The candle had by this time been quenched in the struggling, and the gaol and streets thoroughly alarmed, so that the assailants, fearing to injure one another, and deeming that their intended victim was really dispatched, retreated from the prison, leaving Fitzgerald, though wounded, once more in security.
In consequence of this outrage, his trial was postponed for two months, and the government ordered his assailants to be prosecuted, but on trial they were acquitted. Fitzgerald himself was tried the same day (June 8, 1786), the chief witnesses against him being his own man, Andrew Craig, and Andrew Gallagher, the latter of whom deposed that when he, Hipson, and MacDonnell, were confined in Fitzgerald’s house, there was a pane broken in the window, and ‘At day he saw a number of men regularly drawn up, to the number of twenty or thirty. He saw Andrew Craig and James Foy settling them. Mr. Fitzgerald and Mr. Brecknock came to the flag of the hall-door; through the broken pane he heard them conversing; they spoke in French for some time, and afterwards in English, but he could not hear what they said, but the names of himself, MacDonnell, and Hipson were severally mentioned. He heard at that time nothing more than their names. Mr. Fitzgerald called over James Foy and Andrew Craig, who were settling the guard, and ordered them to move a little higher, about ten or twelve yards above the house. There was some other conversation which he did not hear. As soon as the guard were settled, Mr. Fitzgerald gave them—Foy and Craig—orders “If they saw any rescue, or colour of a rescue, be sure they shot the prisoners, and take care of them.”
‘When these orders were given, Mr. Fitzgerald said to Mr. Brecknock,
‘“Ha! we shall soon get rid of them now.”
‘Mr. Brecknock replied: “Oh, then we shall be easy indeed.”
‘After the guard was settled, Mr. Fitzgerald called back Andrew Craig, and when Craig came within ten yards of him, he, Mr. Fitzgerald, said,
‘“Andrew, be sure you kill them. Do not let one of the villains escape.”
‘Andrew answered: “Oh, never fear, please your honour.”’
At his trial he had a bitter enemy both in the judge, Yelverton, and the prosecuting counsel, Fitzgibbon. Nor could he reckon the high sheriff, Denis Browne, among his friends, so that it was scarcely possible that it should have but one issue, and the jury returned a verdict of guilty against both him and Brecknock, and the judge sentenced them to immediate execution. Fitzgerald begged for a little delay, so that he might settle his worldly affairs; it was denied him, and, at six in the evening, he walked forth to his doom. Brecknock had already suffered. Fitzgerald dreaded the scene of the scaffold and the journey thither along the high road, in a cart, and asked, as a last favour from the sheriff, to be allowed to walk and go by a by-way. It was granted, and he went to his doom preceded by the hangman, who wore a large mask. He walked very fast, and was dressed in a ragged coat of the Castletown hunt, a dirty flannel waistcoat and drawers, both of which were without buttons, brown worsted or yarn stockings, a pair of coarse shoes without buckles, and an old round hat, tied round with a pack-thread band.
When he jumped off the ladder the rope broke, although he was but a slightly-built man and a light weight, and he had to wait until another, and a stronger, one was procured. After forty minutes’ hanging his body was cut down, and was waked by the light of a few candles in a barn at Turlough; it was interred, the next morning, in the family tomb, situated in a ruined chapel adjoining a round tower, but his remains were disturbed some years afterwards at the burial of his brother in the same tomb. He was thirty-eight years of age.