In the evidence adduced at the Cork Summer Assizes of 1867, on the trials of persons charged with participation in the Fenian rising of March 5th, the name of Captain Mackay frequently turned up. The captain, it would appear, was a person of influence and importance in the insurrectionary army. He had taken part in many councils of the Fenian leaders, he was trusted implicitly by his political friends, and much deference was paid to his opinion. But more than all this, he had taken the field on the night of the rising, led his men gallantly to the attack of Ballyknockane police barrack, and, to the-great horror of all loyal subjects, committed the enormous offence of capturing it. This, and the similar successes achieved by Lennon at Stepaside and Glencullen, county Wicklow, were some of the incidents of the attempted rebellion which most annoyed the government, who well knew the influence which such events, occurring at the outset of a revolutionary movement, are apt to exercise on the popular mind. Captain Mackay, therefore, was badly "wanted" by the authorities after the Fenian rising; there was any money to be given for information concerning the whereabouts of Captain Mackay, but it came not. Every loyal-minded policeman in Cork county, and in all the other Irish counties, and every detective, and every spy, and every traitor in the pay of the government, kept a sharp look out for the audacious Captain Mackay, who had compelled the garrison of one of her Majesty's police barracks to surrender to him, and hand him up their arms in the quietest and most polite manner imaginable; but they saw him not, or if they saw, they did not recognise him.
So month after month rolled on, and no trace of Captain Mackay could be had. The vigilant guardians and servants of English law in Ireland, then began to think he must have managed to get clear out of the country, and rather expected that the next thing they would hear of him would be that he was organizing and lecturing amongst the Irish enemies of England in the United States. There, however, they were quite mistaken, as they soon found out to their very great vexation and alarm.
On the 27th day of December, 1867, there was strange news in Cork, and strange news all over the country, for the telegraph wires spread it in every direction. The news was that on the previous evening a party of Fenians had entered the Martello tower at Foaty, on the north side of the Cork river, made prisoners of the gunners who were in charge, and had then taken possession of, and borne away all the arms and ammunition they could find in the place! Startling news this was undoubtedly. Loyal men stopped each other in the streets, and asked if anything like it had ever been heard of. They wanted to know if things were not coming to a pretty pass, and did not hesitate to say they would feel greatly obliged to anyone who could answer for them the question "What next?" For this sack of the Martello tower was not the first successful raid for arms which the Fenians had made in that neighbourhood. About a month before—on the night of November 28th—they had contrived to get into the shop of Mr. Richardson, gunmaker, Patrick-street, and abstract from the premises no fewer than 120 revolvers and eight Snider rifles, accomplishing the feat so skilfully, that no trace either of the weapons or the depredators had since been discovered. This was what might be called a smart stroke of work, but it shrunk into insignificance compared with the audacious act of plundering one of her Majesty's fortified stations.
The details of the affair, which were soon known, were received by the public with mingled feelings of amusement and amazement. The Fenian party, it was learned, had got into the tower by the usual means of entrance—a step-ladder, reaching to the door, which is situate at some height from the ground. One party of the invaders remained in the apartment just inside the entrance door, while another numbering five persons, proceeded to an inner room, where they found two of the gunners, with their families, just in the act of sitting down to tea. In an instant revolvers were placed at the heads of the men, who were told not to stir on peril of their lives. At the same time assurances were given to them, and to the affrighted women, that if they only kept quiet and complied with the demands of the party no harm whatever should befal them. The garrison saw that resistance was useless, and promptly acceded to those terms. The invaders then asked for and got the keys of the magazine, which they handed out to their friends, who forthwith set to work to remove the ammunition which they found stored in the vaults. They seized about 300 lbs. of gunpowder, made up in 8 lb. cartridges, a quantity of fuses, and other military stores, and then proceeded to search the entire building for arms. Of these, however, they found very little—nothing more than the rifles and sword bayonets of the two or three men who constituted the garrison, a circumstance which seemed to occasion them much disappointment. They were particularly earnest and pressing in their inquiries for hand-grenades, a species of missile which they had supposed was always kept "in stock" in such places. They could scarcely believe that there were none to be had. Some charges of grape-shot which they laid hands on might be, they thought, the sort of weapon they were in quest of, and they proceeded to dissect and analyse one of them. Grape-shot, we may explain to the unlearned in these matters, is "an assemblage, in the form of a cylindrical column, of nine balls resting on a circular plate, through which passes a pin serving as an axis. The balls are contained in a strong canvas bag, and are bound together on the exterior of the latter by a cord disposed about the column in the manner of a net." This was not the sort of thing the Fenian party wanted; grape-shot could be of no use to them, for the Fenian organization, to its great sorrow, was possessed of no artillery; they resolved, therefore, to leave those ingeniously-constructed packages behind them, and to retire with the more serviceable spoils they had gathered. While the search was proceeding, the Fenian sentries, with revolvers ready in their hands, stood guard over the gunners, and prevented anyone—young or old—from quitting the room. They spoke kindly to all however, chatted with the women, and won the affectionate regards of the youngsters by distributing money among them. One of these strange visitors became so familiar as to tell one of the women that if she wished to know who he was, his name was Captain Mac—a piece of information which did not strike her at the time as being of any peculiar value. When the party had got their booty safely removed from the building, this chivalrous captain and his four assistant sentries prepared to leave; they cautioned the gunners, of whom there were three at this time in the building—one having entered while the search was proceeding—against quitting the fort till morning, stating that men would be on the watch outside to shoot them if they should attempt it. So much being said and done, they bade a polite good evening to her Majesty's gunners and their interesting families, and withdrew.
The heroic garrison did not venture out immediately after they had been relieved of the presence of the Fenian party; but finding that a few charges of powder were still stowed away in a corner of the fort, they hurried with them to the top of the building and commenced to blaze away from the big gun which was there in situ. This performance they meant as a signal of distress; but though the sounds were heard and the flashes seen far and wide, no one divined the object of what appeared to be nothing more than an oddly-timed bit of artillery practice. Next morning the whole story was in every one's mouth. Vast was the amusement which it afforded to the Corkonians generally, and many were the encomiums which they passed on the dashing Irish-Americans and smart youths of Cork's own town who had accomplished so daring and clever a feat. Proportionally great was the irritation felt by the sprinkling of loyalists and by the paid servants of the crown in that quarter. One hope at all events the latter party had, that the leader in the adventure would soon be "in the hands of justice," and one comforting assurance, that never again would the Fenians be able to replenish their armoury in so easy and so unlawful a manner.
Four days afterwards there was another "sensation" in Cork. The Fenian collectors of arms had made another haul! And this time their mode of action surpassed all their previous performances in coolness and daring. At nine o'clock in the morning, on the 30th of December, eight men, who had assumed no disguise, suddenly entered the shop of Mr. Henry Allport, gunmaker, of Patrick-street, and producing revolvers from their pockets, covered him and his two assistants, telling then at the same time that if they ventured to stir, or raise any outcry, they were dead men. While the shopmen remained thus bound to silence, five of the party proceeded to collect all the rifles and revolvers in the establishment, and place them in a canvas sack which had been brought for the purpose. This sack, into which a few guns and seventy-two splendid revolvers of the newest construction had been put, was then carried off by two men, who, having transferred the contents to the safe-keeping of some confederates, returned with it very quickly to receive and bear away a large quantity of revolver cartridges which had been found in the shop. This second "loot" having been effected, the guards who stood over Mr. Allport and his men, lowered their weapons, and after cautioning all three not to dare to follow them, quitted the shop in a leisurely manner, and disappeared down one of the by-streets. As soon as he was able to collect his scattered wits, Mr. Allport rushed to the nearest police station, and gave information of what had occurred. The police hastened to the scene of this daring exploit, but of course "the birds were flown," and no one could say whither.
Needless to say how this occurrence intensified the perplexity and the rage of the government party in all parts of the country. There was surely some fierce swearing in Dublin Castle on the day that news arrived, and perhaps many a passionate query blurted out as to whether police, detectives, magistrates, and all in that southern district were not secretly in league with the rebels. In fact, a surmise actually got into the papers that the proprietors of the gunshops knew more about the disappearance of the arms, and were less aggrieved by the "seizure" than they cared to acknowledge. However this might be, the popular party enjoyed the whole thing immensely, laughed over it heartily, and expressed in strong terms their admiration of the skill and daring displayed by the operators. The following squib, which appeared in the Nation at the time, over the initials "T.D.S.," affords an indication of the feelings excited among Irish nationalists by those extraordinary occurrences:—
THE CORK MEN AND NEW YORK MEN
Oh, the gallant Cork men, Mixed with New York men, I'm sure their equals they can't be found, For persevering In deeds of daring, They set men staring the world around. No spies can match them, No sentries watch them, No specials catch them or mar their play, While the clever Cork men And cute New York men Work new surprises by night and day.
Sedate and steady, Calm, quick, and ready, They boldly enter, and make no din. Where'er such trifles As Snider rifles And bright six-shooters are stored within. The Queen's round towers Can't baulk their powers, Off go the weapons by sea and shore, To where the Cork men And smart New York men Are daily piling their precious store.