That verdict was a surprise to no one. On the day the jury was empanelled, the prisoner and every one else knew what it was to be. It was now his turn to have a word to say for himself, and he spoke, as was his wont, in plain terms, answering thus the question that had been put to him:—
"I have to say that I have been found guilty by a packed jury—by the jury of a partizan sheriff—by a jury not empanelled even according to the law of England. I have been found guilty by a packed jury obtained by a juggle—a jury not empanelled by a sheriff but by a juggler."
This was touching the high sheriff on a tender place, and he immediately called out for the protection of the court. Whereupon Baron Lefroy interposed, and did gravely and deliberately, as is the manner of judges, declare that the imputation which had just been made on the character of that excellent official, the high sheriff, was most "unwarranted and unfounded." He adduced, however, no reason in support of that declaration—not a shadow of proof that the conduct of the aforesaid official was fair or honest—but proceeded to say that the jury had found the prisoner guilty on evidence supplied by his own writings, some of which his lordship, with a proper expression of horror on his countenance, proceeded to read from his notes. In one of the prisoner's publications, he said, there appeared the following passage "There is now growing on the soil of Ireland a wealth of grain, and roots, and cattle, far more than enough to sustain in life and comfort all the inhabitants of the island. That wealth must not leave us another year, not until every grain of it is fought for in every stage, from the tying of the sheaf to the loading of the ship; and the effort necessary to that simple act of self-preservation will at one and the same blow prostrate British dominion and landlordism together." In reference to this piece of writing, and many others of a similar nature, his lordship remarked that no effort had been made to show that the prisoner was not responsible for them; it was only contended that they involved no moral guilt. But the law was to be vindicated; and it now became his duty to pronounce the sentence of the court, which was—that the prisoner be transported beyond the seas for a term of fourteen years. The severity of the sentence occasioned general surprise; a general suspiration and low murmur were heard through the court. Then there was stillness as of death, in the midst of which the tones of John Mitchel's voice rang out clearly, as he said:—
"The law has now done its part, and the Queen of England, her crown and government in Ireland are now secure, pursuant to act of parliament. I have done my part also. Three months ago I promised Lord Clarendon, and his government in this country, that I would provoke him into his courts of justice, as places of this kind are called, and that I would force him publicly and notoriously to pack a jury against me to convict me, or else that I would walk a free man out of this court, and provoke him to a contest in another field. My lord, I knew I was setting my life on that cast, but I knew that in either event the victory should be with me, and it is with me. Neither the jury, nor the judges, nor any other man in this court presumes to imagine that it is a criminal who stands in this dock."
Here there were murmurs of applause, which caused the criers to call out for "Silence!" and the police to look fiercely on the people around them. Mr. Mitchel resumed:—
"I have shown what the law is made of in Ireland. I have shown that her Majesty's government sustains itself in Ireland by packed juries, by partizan judges, by perjured sheriffs."
Baron Lefroy interposed. The court could not sit there to hear the prisoner arraign the jurors, the sheriffs, the courts, and the tenure by which Englands holds this country. Again the prisoner spoke:—
"I have acted all through this business, from the first, under a strong sense of duty. I do not repent anything that I have done, and I believe that the course which I have opened is only commenced. The Roman who saw his hand burning to ashes before the tyrant, promised that three hundred should follow out his enterprise. Can I not promise for one, for two, for three, aye for hundreds?"
As he uttered these words, Mr. Mitchel looked proudly into the faces of the friends near him, and around the court. His words and his glance were immediately responded to by an outburst of passionate voices from all parts of the building, exclaiming—"For me! for me! promise for me, Mitchel! and for me!" And then came a clapping of hands and a stamping of feet, that sounded loud and sharp as a discharge of musketry, followed by a shout like a peal of thunder. John Martin, Thomas Francis Meagher, and Devin Reilly, with other gentlemen who stood close by the dock, reached over it to grasp the hand of the new made felon. The aspect of affairs looked alarming for a moment. The policemen laid violent hands on the persons near them and pulled them about. Mr. Meagher and Mr. Doheny were taken into custody. Baron Lefroy, in a high state of excitement, cried out—"Officer! remove Mr. Mitchel!" and then, with his brother judges, retired hurriedly from the bench. The turnkeys who stood in the dock with Mr. Mitchel motioned to him that he was to move; he took a step or two down the little stairs under the flooring of the court-house, and his friends saw him no more.
He was led through the passages that communicated with the adjoining prison, and ushered into a dark and narrow cell, in which, however, his detention was of but a few hours' duration: At four o'clock in the evening of that day—May 27th, 1848—the prison van, escorted by a large force of mounted police and dragoons, with drawn sabres, drove up to the prison gate. It was opened, and forth walked John Mitchel—in fetters. A heavy chain was attached to his right leg by a shackle at the ankle; the other end was to have been attached to the left leg, but as the jailors had not time to effect the connexion when the order came for the removal of the prisoner, they bade him take it in his hand, and it was in this plight, with a festoon of iron from his hand to his foot, he passed from the prison into the street—repeating mayhap to his own heart, the words uttered by Wolfe Tone in circumstances not dissimilar:—"For the cause which I have embraced, I feel prouder to wear these chains, than if I were decorated with the star and garter of England." Four or five police inspectors assisted him to step into the van, the door was closed after him, the word was given to the escort, and off went the cavalcade at a thundering pace to the North-wall, where a government steamer, the "Shearwater," was lying with her steam up in readiness to receive him. He clambered the side-ladder of the steamer with some assistance; on reaching the deck, the chains tripped him and he fell forward. Scarcely was he on his feet again, when the paddles of the steamer were beating; the water, and the vessel was moving from the shores of that "Isle of Destiny," which he loved so well, and a sight of which has never since gladdened the eyes of John Mitchel.