“I deliberately and conscientiously repudiate the existence of British law in Ireland. I despise and defy any punishment it may inflict upon me.
(Signed)
“James Stephens.”
During the proceedings his cool and even defiant manner were calculated to impress the by-standers with the belief that he was an attorney watching a case, rather than a prisoner expecting the loss of his liberty, and perhaps life. He seemed fully conscious of the goodness of his cause and his superior ability, and appeared to feel a sovereign contempt for “the other side.” He is described as being a “smart” looking man, very neatly dressed, rather below the middle stature, with smooth cheeks, a fair complexion, a fine large auburn beard, and hair of light brown colour curling round the back of the head, the front and top of which was entirely bald, and showed a very good development of the intellectual and moral faculties, “firmness” being remarkably large. The eyes small, lively, and restless. Temperament evidently sanguine and nervous, indicating quickness of perception, energy, and determination. He spoke fluently and correctly, with a slight Yankee accent (acquired during his frequent visits to America which he had made to report progress to his friends there). His manners were described as being gentlemanly, savouring of a certain degree of abruptness and impatience. This is the description which by general testimony applied to one who was certainly the ablest man ever before the public in connection with the Fenian conspiracy. As we have said before, the prisoners were kept for safety in the Richmond Bridewell, one of the strongest prisons in Ireland.
A portion of the gaol was selected which could not be approached without passing through a number of doors composed of iron, and double locked. The cell occupied by Stephens was in the corridor leading to the eastern wing of the building, and adjoining the chapel where he was in the habit of attending mass. His cell door was composed of strong hammered iron, and secured, by a massive stock-lock and a huge padlock, to a staple and thick swinging bar. The corridor on which the cell door opened was guarded by another ponderous iron door of great strength and thickness, and also double locked. But these were only the commencement of the obstacles which would prevent escape by the doors, and escape from the windows was absolutely impossible. No persons were permitted to see the Fenian prisoners save the officials of the prison and the prisoners’ legal advisers; and it is stated that Stephens only saw a legal gentlemen once, and that for a short time since his committal. The instructions of the governor of the gaol to the officials under his command were most stringent, and were apparently most strictly carried out; and with the view of having a sufficient force on the premises, in case it should be required, some of the metropolitan police were kept constantly on duty in one of the outer corridors of the prison. All communications to the prisoners were opened and read before they were delivered, and also all letters written from them to their acquaintance.
Every article of food, clothing, etc., brought in was closely scrutinized, and in fact, everything which foresight and precaution could suggest was adopted, and a perfect control kept over any communication with the prisoners’ friends outside.
At ten o’clock on a certain Thursday night, when the warders made their last rounds, the cell in which James Stephens was confined was locked. The keys had been at five o’clock duly handed over to the governor, who had had them deposited in their proper order in the case in his office.
The watchman for the night was Daniel Byrne, who went on duty at ten o’clock; and nothing occurred to disturb the ordinary routine of the prison until a quarter to four the following morning, when Byrne gave an alarm that he had discovered two tables placed one above the other, near the south-western wall adjoining the governor’s garden. Mr. Philpots, the deputy-governor and manager, and the gate warder, went quickly to the place and found the two tables to be as Byrne had described them. These tables belonged to the lunatic dining-hall and had to be brought a long distance; but strange to say, there were no footprints on the upper table, which there would have been if it had been stood upon by any person who had walked through the open passages which were muddy, as torrents of rain were falling. The wall bore no marks whatever of persons having escaped by climbing over it. The night was particularly dark and tempestuous.
When the governor and his assistants went to the section of the prison in which Stephens had been confined, they found the doors of the corridor open and also the door of his cell. His bed looked as if he had not recently slept in it, and as if he had only rolled himself up in a railway rug (found on the floor), and had waited for his deliverance.
A master key, quite bright, as if only recently made, was found in the lock of the corridor door.
Byrne was accused of being an accomplice; and he certainly was a very unfit person for so responsible a trust, seeing that he had been one of the Irish legion at Castelfidardo, and was believed to be a captain in the Fenian conspiracy. The patronage of the gaol appeared to be vested in a body closely connected with the Dublin corporation. It is further alleged that there were only three policemen employed in the prison, and that while the barracks of Dublin were full of troops, there was no guard to protect a building in which so many prisoners charged with such serious offences were confined. There was a theory, which however was not believed by the police, that Stephens was conveyed at once on board a Cunard steamer, on his way to America, to relate to his brethren there an account of the most brilliant achievement of the militant branch of the order resident in Ireland.