PRISONER—You instructed the jury, at the same time, that the fact of my holding the position of a colonel in '63 was sufficient corroboration of the evidence that I belonged to it in 1867.
THE CHIEF BARON—I told the jury that holding the rank of colonel was evidence for their consideration, upon which to determine whether you previously belonged to the Fenian confederacy. I told them they were at liberty to consider whether you would have got that rank if you then joined for the first time.
PRISONER—Precisely the same thing, but in different phraseology. Am I to understand that I have not liberty to address the court as to why sentence should not be pronounced upon me?
THE CHIEF BARON—You are not so to consider. You are at liberty to address the court, but you are not at liberty to comment upon the evidence to show that the verdict was wrong.
PRISONER—What can I speak on? To what can I speak, if not to something connected with my case? I am not here to refer to a church matter or any political question.
THE CHIEF BARON—I have informed you what we are bound to rule.
PRISONER—Then I state, my lord, that as an American citizen, I protest against the whole jurisdiction of this court, from the commencement of my arraignment down to the end of my trial. I protest against being brought here forcibly, and against my being convicted on the evidence of a man whom you yourselves designated a man of the most odious character. You instructed the jury pointedly on one occasion, and subsequently you said that no respectable jury could act on his evidence, and that it was a calamity for any government, to have to resort to the evidence of such a man. I do not wish to say anything disrespectful to this eourt, but I think I may say that if I stand here as a convicted felon, the privilege should be accorded to me that has been accorded to every other person who stood here before me in a similar position. There is a portion of the trial to which I particularly wish to refer. That is, in reference to the oath which it was stated the pilot was forced to take on board the vessel. Much importance was attached to this matter, and therefore I wish to ask you and others in this court to look and to inquire if there is any man here who could suppose that I am scoundrel enough and ignorant enough to take an ignorant man, put a pistol to his face, and force him to take an oath I ask you, in the first place, not to believe that I am such a scoundrel, and in the second that I am not such an idiot. If I were at this moment going to my grave, I could say that I never saw that man Gallagher till I saw him in Kilmainham prison. These men, although they have been, day after day, studying lessons under able masters, contradicted each other on the trial, and have been perjuring themselves. Gallagher, in his evidence, swore that his first and second informations were false, and that he knew them to be false. It is contrary to all precedent to convict a man on the evidence of a witness who admits that he swore what was false. In America I have seen judges, hundreds of times, sentencing men who were taken off the table, put into the dock, and sent to prison. In this case, this poor, ignorant man was brought into Kilmainham gaol on the 1st of July. He knew my name, heard it called several times, knew of the act of which I was suspected, and, on the 2nd of August he was taken away. On the 12th of October he is brought back, and out of a party of forty or fifty he identifies only three. If that man came on board the vessel, he did so in his ordinary capacity as a pilot. He did his duty, got his pay, and left. His subsequent evidence was additions. With respect to the vessel, I submit that there was not a shadow of evidence to prove that there was any intention of a hostile landing, and that the evidence as to the identity of the vessel would not stand for a moment where either law or justice would be regarded. Now, as to the Flying Dutchman which it is said appeared on the coast of Sligo and on the coast of Dungarvan, in Gallagher's information nothing is said about the dimensions of the vessel. Neither length, breadth, or tonnage is given, but in making his second information he revised the first.
The prisoner then proceeded to argue that there was nothing to show that the vessel which had appeared in Sligo harbour was the same with that which had appeared off Dungarvan, except the testimony of the informer, Buckley, of which there was no corroboration. He also denied the truth of Corydon's evidence, in several particulars, and then went on to say—
As to the position in which I am now placed by British law, I have to repeat that I am an American citizen, and owe allegiance to the government of the United States. I am a soldier, and have belonged to the National Militia of America. Now, if war had broken out between the two countries, and that I had been taken prisoner, the English government, according to English law, would hold me guilty of high treason. I would not be treated as an ordinary prisoner of war, but would be liable to be strung up at the yard arm. See then the position of England towards the United States. The Crown should not be in such haste to act thus. It was hardly a judicious policy. Andrew Johnson was the grandson of an Irishman; Mr. Seward was the son of an Irishwoman; General Jackson was the son of an Irishman; General Washington and Benjamin Franklin lived and died British subjects, if this law be correct. There is another point to which I wish to refer—it is to the manner in which my government has acted in this matter—
THE CHIEF BARON—We cannot allow you to enter into remarks on the conduct of any government. We have simply to sit here to administer the law which we are called upon to discharge.
THE PRISONER—I wish simply to call your attention to one point. On the 3rd of August I wrote to my government—
THE CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to refer to that.
THE PRISONER—The President of the United States, on a report submitted to him—
THE CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to proceed with any reference to what has been done by any government. We have nothing to do with the conduct of any government We are only here to administer the law which we are sworn to administer.
THE PRISONER—I was simply going to state that while the vile officials of your government—.
THE CHIEF BARON—We have nothing to do with the conduct of any government. We are here to dispense justice according to law, and whatever the officials of our government or of the American government have done cannot have the slightest influence upon our judgment. It can neither affect us favourably or unfavourably to the prisoner or to the Crown. We stand indifferently between both.
THE PRISONER—I beg simply to call your lordship's attention to the correspondence—
THE CHIEF BARON—We cannot allow you to do so. We cannot allow you to refer to the correspondence between the officials of one government and the officials of another.
THE PRISONER—If America does not resent England's conduct towards me, and protect that allegiance to her government which I proudly own is the only allegiance I ever acknowledged, I shall call on thirteen millions of Irishmen—
THE CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to use the position in which you stand there as the arena for those observations.
PRISONER—I must then state, in conclusion, that while I protest against the jurisdiction, I am confident that the position which I take will be sustained. I know that the verdict of the jury will be reversed, and while returning you, my lord, thanks for your kindness during the trial, I must say you have taken from me the privilege I am entitled to get. I am sure that I shall live longer than the British Constitution.
AUGUSTINE E. COSTELLO.
After the verdict had been returned against Colonel Warren, Augustine E. Costello was put on his trial, charged with the same offence—that of having formed cne of the invading party who landed from the "Erin's Hope," in the neighbourhood of Dungarvan. He, too, was an adopted citizen of the United States, and he declared that he was anxious to follow the course that had been taken by his friend, Colonel Warren, in reference to his trial; but, deferring to the strongly-expressed wish of his counsel, he would leave his case in their hands. An able defence was made for him by Messrs. Heron and Molloy, Q.C., instructed by Mr. Scallan, Solicitor; but it was all in vain. When he was called on to say why sentence should not be pronounced on him, he delivered the following address in a loud tone of voice, his fresh young face glowing with emotion as he spoke, and his manner showing deep excitement, but withal a fearless and noble spirit:—
In answer to the question put to me by the Clerk of the Court, I will speak a few words. I don't intend to say much, and I will trespass on foibidden ground but as little as possible. I am perfectly satisfied that there has not been one fact established or proved that would justify a conscientious and impartial jury in finding me guilty of treason-felony. There is an extreme paucity of evidence against me;—that everyone who has been here while this case has been proceeded with will admit frankly and candidly. We need no stronger proof of this fact than that the first jury that was empanelled to try me had, after a long and patient hearing of the case, to be discharged without having found me guilty of treason-felony. Ah! there were a few honest men on that jury. They knew that Augustine E. Costello was not guilty of the crime trumped up against him. They knew I was not guilty. Mr. Anderson, sitting there, knows that I am not a felon, but that I am an honest man; that as such I stand here in this dock, where Robert Emmett stood, where Robert Emmett spoke from; and the actions and the words of that Emmett have immortalized him, and he now lies embalmed in the hearts of the world.
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to proceed in that strain.
COSTELLO—I can say to those assembled here, and who are now listening to me, that I stand here, branded, as I am, a felon, but with a clear conscience. No one can point the finger of scorn against me, and say I have sold my brother and committed perjury. Can every man in this court house lay his hand on his heart and say the same? Answer me, Mr. Anderson. Answer me, Governor Price.
The LORD CHIEF BARON—You are again transgressing. You had better stop for a moment or two; you seem to be excited.
COSTELLO—My lord, as you truly remark. I have allowed my feelings to run away with my discretion; but it is hard for a man to stand here, satisfied as I am of innocence, knowing full well that I have committed no wrong; it is hard for a man in the bloom of youth, when the world looks fair and prosperous to him—when all he loves is in that world—it is hard that a man should be torn from it, and incarcerated in a living tomb. My lords, I am an humble individual; I claim no rights but the rights that emanated from a Godhead—the rights that were given to me at the hour of my birth. That right is my inalienable liberty, and that no government, no people, has a right to take from me. I am perfectly satisfied to stand before a British tribunal to answer for acts or words of mine, if I break any of the laws of the country; but, my lords, you must admit that I have transgressed no law. His lordship, Judge Keogh—I must now candidly admit that I have heard a great deal about that gentle nan that was not at all complimentary to him—but I say for myself that his lordship, Judge Keogh has dealt with me in the fairest manner he could have done. I have nothing to say against the administration of the law, as laid down by you; but I say a people who boast of their freedom—hold up their magnanimous doings to the world for approval and praise—I say those people are the veriest slaves in existence to allow laws to exist for a moment which deprive a man of liberty.
The LORD CHIEF BARON—It is impossible for a Court administering the law, to allow you to speak in such terms against such law.
Augustine E. Costello.
COSTELLO—I speak under correction, my lord. You must, if you please, be assured that I do not attribute any wrong to your lordships—far be it from me; I acknowledge and again reiterate that. So far as the law is concerned, I have had a dose that has almost killed me; but if there was a little—a very little—justice mixed in that law, I would not be now addressing your lordships. Of the law I have had sufficient, but I have come to the conclusion that justice is not to be found inside a British courthouse. My lords, I complain, and grievously, of what my friend Colonel Warren and my friend General Halpin complained of—of being tried in this Court as a British subject; and I think your lordships will not reprimand me much for that expression. I left the shores of my native land—Ireland is the land of my birth, and I am proud to own it. I am proud to say that I am an Irishman, but I am also proud and happy to state that I am an adopted citizen of the United States; and while true to the land of my birth, I can never be false to the land of my adoption. That is not an original phrase, but it expresses the idea which I mean to convey. Now, my lords, my learned and very able counsel, who have conducted my case with the greatest ability and zeal, and of whom I cannot speak in terms of sufficient praise, demanded for me a jury half alien. I was refased it. I was born in this country, and I was, while breath remained in my body, a British subject. In God's name—if I may mention His holy name without sufficient reasons—what affection should I have for England? You cannot stamp out the instincts that are in the breast of man—man will be man to the end of time—the very worm you tread upon will turn upon your feet. If I remained in this country till I descended to the grave, I would remain in obscurity and poverty. I left Ireland, not because I disliked the country—I love Ireland as I lovs myself—I left Ireland for the very good and cogent reason that I could not live in Ireland. But why could I not live here? I must not say; that would be trespassing. I must not mention why I was forced to leave Ireland—why I am now placed in this dock. Think you, my lords, that I would injure a living being—that I would, of my own free accord, willingly touch a hair upon the head of any man? No, my lords; far would it be from me; but that government which has left our people in misery—
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to trespass on political grievances.
COSTELLO—I am afraid I am occupying the time of the court too much, but really a man placed in such a position as I now occupy, finds it necessary to make a few observations. I know it savours of a great deal that is bad and foul to be mixed up with Fenian rebels, assassins, and cut-throats. It is very bad; it is not a very good recommendation for a young man. Even were that fact proved home to me—that I were a Fenian—no act of mine has ever thrown dishonour on the name. I know not what Fenian means. I am an Irishman, and that is all-sufficient.
The prisoner then proceeded to criticise the evidence against him at considerable length. He declared emphatically that one of the documents sworn to be in his handwriting was not written by him. He thus continued:—
Your lordships are well aware that there are many contradictions in the informers' testimony, and now here is a matter which I am going to mention for the first time. Corydon. in his first information at Kilmainham, swears that he never knew me until he saw me at a Fenian pic-nic, and this he modifies afterwards by the remark, that any man would be allowed into these pic-nics on the payment of a certain sum. I did not pay much attention to what the fellow was saying about me, as I thought it did not affect me in the least; but this I can distinctly remember, that Mr. Anderson, jun.—and he is there to say if I am saying anything false—said that the evidence of Corydon did not affect any one of the six prisoners put in this dock but another and myself. It is very strange if that was said by Mr. Anderson. He knew that there was nothing more to be got out of Corydon, the informer—that he had told everything he knew in his information, but on pressure there was found to be a little left in the sponge. They refreshed his memory a little, and he comes to think that he saw Costello at a meeting in 814 Broadway I think he gives it. And here is a singular occurrence—that Devany, who never swore an information against me, comes on the table and swears that he also saw me at 814 Broadway Here is one informer striving to corroborate the other. It is a well-known fact that these informers speak to each other, go over the evidence, and what is more likely thin that they should make their evidence to agree—say, "I will corroborate your story, you corroborate mine." By this means was it that the overt acts of the 5th of March, which took place at Stepaside, Glencullen, and Tallaght, were brought home to Costello—a man who was 4,000 miles away, and living—and I say it on the word of a man, a Christian man—peaceably, not belonging to that confederation. I did not belong to the Fenian Brotherhood for twelve months before I left America, if I did belong to it at any other time, so help me God! God witnesses what I say, and he records my words above. It is a painful position to be placed in. I know I am a little excited. Were I to speak of this matter under other circumstances, I would be more cool and collected. Were I conscious of guilt—did I know that I merited this punishment, I would not speak a word, but say that I deserved and well merited the punishment about to be inflicted upon me. But, my lords, there never was a man convicted in this court more innocent of the charges made against him than Costello. The overt acts committed in the county of Dublin, admitting that the law of England is as it was laid down by your lordship, that a man, a member of this confederacy, if he lived in China, was responsible for the acts of his confederates—admitting that to be law, I am still an innocent man. Admitting and conceding that England has a right to try me as a British subject, I still am an innocent man. Why do I make these assertions? I know full well they cannot have any effect in lessening the term of my sentence. Can I speak for the sake of having an audience here to listen to me? Do I speak for the satisfaction of hearing my own feeble voice? I am not actuated by such motives. I speak because I wish to let you know that I believe myself innocent; and he would be a hard-hearted man, indeed, who would grudge me those few sentences. Now, my lord, I have observed I did not belong to the Fenian confederacy in March of this present year. I did not belong to the Fenian confederacy anterior to the period that Corydon and Devany allege that they saw me act as centre and secretary to Fenian meetings; that, anterior to that period, I never took act or part in the Fenian conspiracy up to the period of my leaving America. Does it do me any good to make these statements? I ask favours, as Halpin said, from no man. I ask nothing but justice—stern justice—even-handed justice. If I am guilty—if I have striven to overthrow the government of this country, if I have striven to revolutionize this country, I consider myself enough of a soldier to bare my breast to the consequences, no matter whether that consequence may reach me on the battle-field or in the cells of Pentonville. I am not afraid of punishment. I have moral courage to bear all that can be heaped upon me in Pentonville, Portland, or Kilmainham, designated by one of us as the modern Bastile. I cannot be worse treated, no matter where you send me to. There never was a more infernal dungeon on God's earth than Kilmainham. It is not much to the point, my lord. I will not say another word about it. I believe I saw in some of the weekly papers that it would be well to appoint a commission to inquire—
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to proceed with that subject.
COSTELLO—I will not say another word. I will conclude now. There is much I could say, yet a man in my position cannot help speaking. There are a thousand and one points affecting me here, affecting my character as a man, affecting my life and well-being, and he would be a hard-hearted man who could blame me for speaking in strong terms. I feel that I have within me the seeds of a disease that will soon put me into an early grave, and I have within my breast the seeds of a disease which will never allow me to see the expiration of my imprisonment. It is, my lord, a disease, and I hope you will allow me to speak on this subject, which has resulted from the treatment I have been subjected to. I will pass over it as rapidly as I can, because it is a nasty subject—Kilmainham. But the treatment that I have received at Kilmainham—I will not particularize any man, or the conduct of any man—has been most severe, most harsh, not fit for a beast, much less a human being. I was brought to Kilmainham, so far as I know, without any warrant from the Lord Lieutenant. I was brought on a charge the most visionary and airy. No man knew what I was. No one could tell me or specify to me the charge on which I was detained. I asked the magistrates at Dungarvan to advise me of these charges. They would not tell me. At last I drove them into such a corner as I might call it, that one of them rose up and said, with much force, "You are a Fenian." Now, my lords, that is a very accommodating word. If a man only breaks a window now he is a Fenian. If I could bring, or if I had only the means of bringing, witnesses from America, I would have established my innocence here without a probability of doubt. I would have brought a host of witnesses to prove that Costello was not the centre of a circle in 1866. I would have brought a host of witnesses to prove that he was not the secretary of a circle—never in all his life. My lords, I speak calmly, and weigh well, and understand every word that I say. If I speak wrong, time will bring the truth to the surface, and I would sooner have fifteen years added to my sentence than that any man might say I spoke from this dock, which I regard as a holy place, where stood those whom I revere as much as I do any of our saints—
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot suffer you to proceed thus.
COSTELLO—I would not speak one word from this dock which I knew to be other than truth. I admit there is a great deal of suspicion, but beyond that there are no facts proved to bring home the charge against me. What I have stated are facts, every one of them. Now, my lords, is it any wonder that I should speak at random and appear a little bit excited. I am not excited in the least. I would be excited in a degree were I expressing myself on any ordinary topic to any ordinary audience. It is my manner, your lordships will admit, and you have instructed the jury not to find me guilty, but to discharge me from the dock, if they were not positive that I was a Fenian on the 5th March. I believe these are the instructions that his lordship, Justice Keogh, gave to the jury—if I were not a Fenian on the 5th March, I was entitled to an acquittal. Well I was not a Fenian at that time. I say so as I have to answer to God. Now, to conclude. I have not said much about being an American citizen. For why? I am not permitted to speak on that subject. Now, as Colonel Warren remarked, if I am not an American citizen, I am not to be held responsible, but to the American Government. I did not press myself on that government. They extended to me those rights and those privileges; they said to me, "Come forward, young man; enrol yourself under our banner, under our flag; we extend to you our rights and privileges—we admit you to the franchise." I came not before I was asked. The invitation was extended to me. I had no love then, and never will have, towards England, and I accepted the invitation. I did forswear allegiance to all foreign potentates, and more particularly I forswore all allegiance to the Crown of Great Britain. Your lordships say that the law of the land rules that I had no right to do anything of the kind. That is a question for the governments to settle. America is guilty of a great fraud if I am in the wrong.
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to proceed in that line of argument.
COSTELLO—I will take up no more of your time. If I am still a British subject, America is guilty.
The LORD CHIEF BARON—I cannot allow you to refer either to the American people or to the American government.
COSTELLO—Would you allow me to state they enticed me from my allegiance to England; therefore she (America) is guilty of high treason?
The LORD CHIEF BARON—We cannot allow you to speak on that subject.
COSTELLO—I will conclude, then. I have nothing to say further than to thank your lordships for the latitude you have given me in these few remarks, and also to thank your lordships for your kindness during my trial. I know you have done me every justice; you did not strain the law against me; you did everything that was consistent with your duty to do, and I have nothing to complain of there. I must again thank my learned and able counsel for the able, zealous, and eloquent manner in which they defended me. I am at a loss for words to express the gratitude I owe to each and every one of those gentlemen who have so ably conducted my case. Now, my lords, I will receive that sentence which is impending. I am prepared for the worst. I am prepared to be torn from my friends, from my relations, from my home. I am prepared to spend the bloom of my youth in a tomb more dark and horrible than the tomb wherein the dead rest. But there is one consolation that I will bring into exile, if I may so call that house of misery—a clear conscience, a heart whose still small voice tells me that I have done no wrong to upbraid myself with. This is the consolation that I have,—that my conscience is clear. I know it appears somewhat egotistical for me to speak thus, but it is a source of consolation for me that I have nothing to upbraid myself with, and I will now say in conclusion, that if my sufferings can ameliorate the wrongs or the sufferings of Ireland. I am willing to be offered up as a sacrifice for the good of old Erin.