Chapter VIII: Part 8

There was only one thing about which he had frequently to remonstrate with me, and that was my expenditure. Many a lecture did I receive from him on the subject of money spending. It was not, of course, his fault, but rather that of the system. Indeed, so kind and friendly was he that he at times advanced me money for which he himself had to wait for repayment for some time, if indeed he ever got all of it back, which I very much doubt. Of course I could not help spending the money. I tried to be as sparing as possible, and, whenever I could, debited my expenses to those other undertakings which I allied with my Secret Service work. But it was not always possible to pursue such an economic course, and in very many instances where Mr. Anderson could not pay, I had to pay myself. I occupied a certain position; I had to live up to that position. The expenditure of money amongst the Irish patriotic class was an absolute necessity for my purpose, and consequently I could never put any money by, but rather lived up to, if not, indeed, at times beyond every penny of my income.

On this question of Secret Service money I could say much. The miserable pittance doled out for the purpose of fighting such an enemy as the Clan-na-Gael becomes perfectly ludicrous in the light of such facts as I have quoted in connection with the monetary side of the Dynamite Campaign. Gallaher, as I have said, had no less than £1400 on his person when arrested in 1883; while, coming down to a later date, Moroney, when despatched from New York in 1887, in connection with the second stage of the Jubilee explosion plot, carried with him some £1200. How on earth can the English police and their assistants in the Secret Service hope to grapple with such heavily financed plots as this, on the miserable sums granted by Parliament for the purpose? There are, I believe, some thirty men charged with the special duty of circumventing political crime in London. All praise and honour to them for the work they have done, and the sincerest of congratulations to Chief-Inspector Littlechild, who so ably conducted the arrests of all the principals of the latter-day dynamite plots. But these policemen have succeeded more by chance than anything else; events have played into their hands, and, clever men that they are, they have been sufficiently capable to take advantage of the little that came to their knowledge, and from small clues to work out great things.

Some day, however, a big thing will happen, about which there will be no leakage beforehand, and then the affrighted and indignant British citizen will turn on his faithful band of thirty and rant and rave at them for their want of capacity and performance. The fault will be the want of a perfect system of Secret Service, properly financed. If plots are to be discovered in time—and already there are some whisperings of coming danger—they can only be discovered through information coming from those associated with them. As I have shown, the men engaged in them are very highly paid. If it is to be made worth their while to speak, then the price offered by the British Government must be higher than that of the other paymasters. There is no use in thinking that mere tools like Callan and Harkins—the men now in prison in connection with the Jubilee Explosion Plot—would be of any service. These men know nothing. It is the Millens and the Moroneys of the conspiracy who should be in Government pay, and they have no mean price. Imagine offering either of these men a retainer of £20 a month with a very odd cheque for expenses thrown in! The idea is ridiculous. I have heard it urged that the thought of Secret Service is repugnant to the British heart, wherein are instilled the purest principles of freedom. The argument has sounded strange in my ears when I remembered that London, as somebody has said, is the cesspool of Europe, the shelter of the worst ruffians of every country and clime. America is called the Land of the Free, but she could give England points in the working of the Secret Service, for there there is no stinting of men or money.

LIV.

This, then, is my story; and in it must be found the justification, if such be needed, for the part I have played. I have no apology to make for my twenty and odd years’ work in the Secret Service. I took up that work from a conscientious motive, and in a conscientious spirit I pursued it to the end. I have in no sense been an informer, as the phrase is understood. I allied myself with Fenianism in order to defeat it; I never turned from feelings of greed or gain on the men with whom I at first worked in sympathy. I never had any sympathy with Irish Revolutionists. Quite the opposite. Nor have I been an _agent provocateur_. Although I always voted for politic reasons on the side of the majority, even to the joining in the vote which meant dynamite, on no single occasion was I instrumental in bringing an individual to the commission of crime. True, I had to take many oaths. But what of that? By the taking of them I have saved many lives. Which counts the weightiest in the balance of life? And who is it that sneers at me for my conduct in this regard? An honest man’s criticism I can accept; but for the judgment of these double-oathed gentlemen who, having first taken the Fenian oath, then rushed to Westminster to swear allegiance to the Crown and Constitution they had aforetime sworn to destroy, I have nothing but contempt and derision. Away with such rubbish and cant as they indulge in to the regions where common-sense finds no place.

I said I have saved lives by my action as a Government agent. I hope I shall have done more by my appearance in the witness-box. To me no more satisfactory result could attend my disclosures than the realisation by the poor deluded Irish in the States of the way in which they have been tricked and humbugged in the past years. For these poor weak people, animated by the purest, if the most mistaken of patriotic motives, who give their little all in the hope and trust that the day will come in their lives when Ireland will be a land flowing with milk and honey, I have the deepest and the most sincere sympathy. To know these people, to come into contact with them, and to discuss with them the eternal subject of Irish nationality, is to respect their honesty of purpose, no matter how much we feel called upon to condemn their methods of procedure. But, for the blatant loud-voiced agitator, always bellowing forth his patriotic principles, while secretly filling his pockets with the bribe or the consequences of his theft, there can be no other feeling but that of undisguised loathing.

I speak of what I know from personal experience, when I say there is no greater fraud in this nineteenth century of ours than the modern Irish patriotic agitator in America. Gold is his god, his patriotic principles—save the mark!—his breviary and his beads, holding aloft which he stands at the corner of the market-place so that he may be seen of all men, and paid tribute to by some. By jobbery, trickery, treachery, and delusion of the meanest and most despicable type he works his way along, rising higher and higher in the ranks of his fellow-conspirators, till at last, in the position of responsibility and power, he sells the votes he can command, and pockets the funds over which he has control. Brave and blustering in speech, he advocates, in the safety of his American city, three thousand miles from the seat of danger, the most desperate of enterprises; and without the slightest pang of compunction or twinge of conscience he rushes his poor dupes across the water to their fate on the scaffold or the living death of penal servitude; while his lips unctuously mumble of the righteousness of their beloved cause, and his whisky-laden breath blasphemously calls for the blessings of Heaven upon the foul enterprise.

It has been in fighting such scoundrels as these that I have spent the last quarter of a century. From them I would fain deliver their poor dupes ere I completely efface myself from Irish affairs. I have no stronger, no sincerer wish than to see an end put once for all to the delusion which is practised upon thousands of poor Irishmen throughout the States by the men of whom I have written. With the rank and file it has assuredly been a case of “theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.” I hope it may not be so in the future. I trust that what I have penned, and what the sad murder of Cronin has writ large upon the page of history, may not be without its effect; and that to-day men may pause ere they continue in such a way as I have pictured, the mere tools of an unscrupulous faction, the miserable dupes of a reckless and improvident executive. Gallahers, Dalys, and Mackay Lomasneys there always will be—men inspired with fanatical hatred of all things English, and ready at all times to risk freedom and life in working out their designs; but, apart from them, there are thousands whose criminality reaches no further point than the paying of those subscriptions so frequently and so persistently demanded.

With such men I hope these words of mine will have weight; and if, awakening to a true sense of their situation, and realising that their combination and support help not Ireland but Ireland’s professional mendicants, they turn to a better path, and a clearer and more honest view of Irish matters as they really are, then shall I feel that I have not struggled or written in vain.

APPENDIX.

I.

THE STORY OF THE JUBILEE PLOT.

Fully two months before the celebration of the Queen’s Jubilee in London, reliable intelligence reached the Scotland Yard authorities that a gang of skilful and unscrupulous conspirators in America were devising a plan for carrying out acts of murder and destruction in London. The names of the principal persons engaged for this purpose were known to the police, and the individuals were closely watched even during their voyage across the Atlantic. The headquarters of the organisation were established in Paris, and both there and in Boulogne their movements were under strict observation. The direction of the conspiracy rested with General Millen, a well-known Fenian agent, who, finding the police espionage unbearable, had latterly kept out of England. Had he returned, he would have been immediately arrested. Last Saturday he left Amsterdam for New York, being watched by English detectives down to the time of the vessel sailing. After the Jubilee celebration, some of the gang crossed the Channel and came to London, their plans previous to the Jubilee celebration having been disconcerted. The most prominent of the arrivals in London was the man Melville, said to be the shrewdest of the whole gang. The police do not believe that those conspirators were in communication with O’Donovan Rossa, or acting with his cognisance. Cohen’s presence in London was known to the police some time prior to his death. There was only one of the gang of whose presence they were not aware. Strangely enough, the police were on their way to arrest the deceased [Cohen] at the moment of his death, and had they been twenty minutes earlier they would have captured the unknown individual who left the death chamber just previously.

The man Melville came to London as an agent of Millen, and took modest lodgings in Gladstone Street, but at the time was deficient in funds. The police, however, watched him closely, and found that on two occasions he called on Mr. Joseph Nolan, M.P., at the House of Commons. He had for his companion the man Harkins, and both of them were seen in company with the dead man Cohen, upon whom an inquest was held yesterday [26th October 1887]. The police suspicions of Melville’s business were confirmed. His assertion, that he represented Mr. Philips, of Philadelphia, proved entirely false. Afterwards Melville went to Paris, and there met a man named Dennehy, who, with a man named Maloney, sailed for America on August 17. Dennehy is a member of the Clan-na-Gael, and his address is known to the police. Melville then returned to London and stayed at the Hotel Métropole with a Miss Kennedy, of 53 Charles Street, Boston, with whom he travelled through Ireland, and afterwards to Paris, where he called upon General Millen at the Hôtel du Palais, and was also seen in a cab with a man remarkably like the deceased man Cohen, who was absent from his lodgings about five weeks ago. He sailed for America from Havre on September 17, and on reaching New York, his companion, Miss Kennedy, was arrested for smuggling a large quantity of valuable goods. Melville’s hurried departure upset the plans of the Clan-na-Gael, and closely following this Cohen died. Harkins admitted yesterday that he called at the House of Commons with Melville, and that he had written for money to Burchall. Melville’s address in America is known to the police—viz., Mr. J. J. Moroney, 925 Tenth Avenue, New York.—_Daily Press_, 28th October 1887.

THOMAS CALLAN, 46, labourer, and Michael Harkins, 30, grocer, were placed upon their trial at the Central Criminal Court, London, on February 1, 1888, upon an indictment of various counts, charging them with maliciously conspiring with Joseph Melville and Joseph Cohen, and other persons, to cause, by an explosive substance, an explosion in the United Kingdom of a nature likely to endanger life, and to cause serious injury to property, and with having in their possession and under their control an explosive substance with intent by means thereof to endanger life and cause serious injury to property within the United Kingdom, and with having in their possession and under their control an explosive substance in such circumstances as to give rise to a reasonable suspicion that they did not have it in their possession and under their control for a lawful object.

The prisoners were found guilty, and each sentenced to fifteen years’ penal servitude.

* * * * *

The SELECT COMMITTEE appointed to consider the regulations applicable to the admission of strangers to the HOUSE OF COMMONS met again on Thursday, the 19th inst., Viscount EBRINGTON presiding.

Mr. JAMES MONRO, Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, examined by the Chairman, said:—Melville’s real name is Moroney, of Philadelphia, New York, and a member of the Clan-na-Gael. He was sent over here in pursuance of instructions, and for the purpose of committing an outrage in the Jubilee week. He came over with Callan and Harkins in the steamer _City of Chester_. They did not arrive in England until June 21. They had missed the previous steamer, all the berths being engaged, and they did not arrive until the Monday. They came at once here, only to find that General F. F. Millen had been rendered powerless by the operations of the police. Melville was the man who was chief in giving them dynamite, in enabling them to get it in here. and in giving them instructions how to dispose of it. The dynamite was brought over by other persons to Melville—two men, and also a person of the name of Callan, and another man, I believe. The other man we have not been able to get hold of. But Melville and this fifth man arrived on May 15; so that when Melville and his associates came on June 5, Callan was here to meet them.

The House of Commons was one point in these dynamite operations. One of these men was sent down on two occasions to Windsor Castle to “prospect” the State apartments, taking with him a watch for the purpose of finding out how long it would take him to effect his purpose and get away. On both occasions the State apartments were closed. He did not go back again, because I suppose he thought he would be identified. General Millen was a man known twenty years ago in Fenian matters. He was connected with the Fenians in 1867. He was what was called a military member of the Clan-na-Gael, and he was sent over to this country on a secret mission in 1879. He reported his progress to his associates under the name of Robinson.

He was in communication with Melville. That is to say, he met Melville on one occasion in Paris, not in this country. He met Melville in Paris in September 1887. Melville was sent over. He left in April and arrived in France about the end of April. He was in England before that. He left this country in January 1887, and went to America. He left America and arrived in this country in April. I forget the exact date.

General Millen had no home in England, but he had relatives—his daughters, living in London for a certain time. On August 4, Melville and Harkins came to the House of Commons, and sent up their cards, or rather, Mr. Melville sent up his card to Mr. Joseph Nolan. Mr. Nolan came out to them and saw them in the central lobby. After a little conversation they went away. On the 5th of August the visit was repeated by the same two men. They sent up their card to Mr. Joseph Nolan. Mr. Nolan came out and disappeared with them; by that I mean the police did not follow them. He took them, it is believed, to the gallery. Now it is known that he did so, as the entry in the Strangers’ Gallery book shows. They were not seen to leave that night by the ordinary entrance. They were for some time on the terrace.

They must have gone down with a member?—They were accompanied by Mr. Joseph Nolan.

About how long did they remain?—About twenty minutes or half an hour, as far as I can remember. They were under observation by my men; they were seen by the House of Commons police. They were under observation outside.

At that time were you aware of any business in which they were engaged in this country?—We had not identified Harkins at that time, but I knew Melville was a dangerous character. On his visit here my information was that he might be looked for in the House of Commons. That information was received in connection with his relation with Millen. He was met in Paris afterwards, and Melville was actually in Paris in the month of July, but I am not prepared to say he met Millen then, but they were connected. There was another man in Paris in regard to whose movements I was apprised in connection with Millen’s relations in Ireland; and it is also a fact that General Millen was in communication with Mr. Joseph Nolan by means of letters conveyed by Millen’s daughters, who were then in London and under observation. One of these letters so conveyed was a letter of introduction to Melville.

Was that prior to the visit to the House of Commons?—That was prior to the visit; that was on the 14th of July, on which date Millen’s daughters visited the House of Commons. They saw Mr. Joseph Nolan and repeated the visit on the 15th. Millen is their real name. They had been living here for some time before that.

THE HOME SECRETARY.—Did they visit the House on that occasion, or did they remain in the central hall?—Witness: On the first occasion they were taken by Mr. J. Nolan to the Ladies’ Gallery, and on the second occasion they were taken by Mr. Nolan to the bar of the House of Lords, and after they left they were accompanied by Mr. Nolan some little up the street on both days.

They did not go over the House of Commons?—I cannot say they did. They then left for Paris, where Millen then was, and, as I said before, on the 4th of August Melville then appeared.

Did you follow up this matter by any inquiries of Melville himself?—Melville was traced to his lodgings, and on the 8th of August he was interviewed. After Melville’s interview we interviewed Mr. Joseph Nolan on the 16th of August. He was asked whether Melville had visited him and whether he knew him. Mr. Nolan said Melville was a stranger to him, that he had brought no letter of introduction, that he had mentioned the names of several gentlemen known to him (Mr. Nolan) in America, among them a gentleman named Stack, who had been successful in life and was over in England on a trip; that he (Stack) seemed to be well acquainted with the oil wells and silver mines in the Rocky mountains, that he seemed to be a man well read in history, and altogether was a rather well-informed man; that he had come with this letter of introduction, and that he (Nolan) treated him with the same civility that he would expect in America. We made inquiries, and we came in the Strangers’ Gallery book, upon an entry which we believed to be in Mr. Nolan’s handwriting. We had the handwriting submitted to an expert, and he said it was the same as that on a remittance sent by Mr. Nolan. We had no doubt on the subject, because when Mr. Nolan was examined he said it was in his handwriting. We made inquiry of Mr. Stack, and had him interviewed on the 26th of January this year. He said he did not remember anything in connection with the registry in the book at the gallery in the House of Commons, and did not remember anything about the man Melville. The writing in the book appeared, he said, to be his own, but he was certain he never gave an order to Mr. Joseph Nolan, M.P. and Mr. Nolan knew nothing about his signature. It was an understood thing among the Irish party that everything possible was to be done for Americans who might wish to see the House of Commons, and the consequence was that there was scarcely a day passed without application being made for admission to the House by Americans. This matter would stop that kind of thing. If the Irish members were aware of it they would shun an American as they would poison, and it would be detrimental to the party generally.

By MR. FORREST FULTON.—One of the letters conveyed by the daughter of General Millen to Mr. Joseph Nolan, who was in communication with General Millen, was a letter of introduction of Melville to Mr. Nolan. Millen introduced Melville as a friend.

Is there any statement at all as to what Melville was doing in this country?—No, not so far as I am aware.

THE CHAIRMAN.—I think you spoke of letters passing?—Yes, more than one. This was one of the letters conveyed to Mr. Nolan from General Millen by his daughters.

And these letters passed on various occasions?—Yes, they passed on more than one occasion.

By MR. FULTON.—Mr. Nolan said he knew nothing at all about Melville, and had not received any letter from him?—Yes.

MR. FULTON.—You say you know where the daughters of General Millen reside. Do you know that they were visited by Mr. Nolan at any time?—Not at the period referred to, so far as I know.

On other occasions?—On a previous occasion they were.

When was that?—In January of the previous year; but I had not commenced observations then.

The Committee adjourned till three o’clock in order to give MR. JOSEPH NOLAN, M.P., an opportunity of replying to the evidence of Mr. Monro.

THE CHAIRMAN communicated to Mr. Nolan the statements made by Mr. Monro. Mr. Nolan said he had no wish to go back upon the evidence he had given in Court in connection with the dynamite trial. He had received no introduction of any one from General Millen.

You visited the House with two daughters of General Millen on the 14th or 15th of July, and showed them over the House, and that one of them gave you a letter from her father introducing a man who would come subsequently—a man named Melville. Is it true that the two daughters of General Millen were there on the 14th or 15th of July, and were shown over the House by you?—It is true that I showed two ladies named Millen over the House.

The daughters of General Millen?—I do not know about that.

Were they strangers to you at that time?—One of them was.

One of them you did know?—Yes.

She was the daughter of General Millen?—That I do not know.

Did you meet her in London?—I met her in London, I think, in 1886. She has been living in London.

Did you know General Millen?—I know him by repute.

As what?—As an officer in the Mexican Army, and as correspondent of the _New York Herald_.

Have you ever met him?—Yes.

When?—In 1886.

In England or abroad?—In England.

Was he a stranger to you then?—He was.

Where did you meet him; at a private house?—He called upon me at my own house.

Was that the only occasion on which you ever saw him?—Yes.

MR. LAWSON.—Called upon you doubtless as many Americans do?—Yes.

THE CHAIRMAN.—Is it true that the ladies brought a letter of introduction about Melville?—It is not true.

Or a letter of any kind?—No.

The statement was a letter written by the General?—No; not that I remember; in fact there was no necessity for it, because one of the ladies knew me.

It is said they brought a letter to you at the House introducing Melville to you on a future occasion?—That is not so. One of the ladies said she had not seen her father for years, and she believed he was ill at the time in Europe, and that she intended to call upon him.

Have you had any communication with him?—No.

THE HOME SECRETARY.—Are you aware that Melville and Millen had met each other?—No, and I may say that I had never heard that General Millen had any connection whatever with what is known as the dynamite party. It has been stated, I believe, that he has, but I never heard it previous to the recent case. On the contrary, I heard that General Millen as an Irish officer was clearly opposed to the policy of that party.

THE HOME SECRETARY.—That has nothing to do with it. Did Melville come from America; he had been in London for some months?—I did not know that.

Did Melville speak about Millen?—No.

Were you aware that they were acquainted?—No. I knew a number of Irish Americans who have visited me at the House. They asked for admission, and I have been told that he was among the number. I remember that a policeman or gentleman who said that he belonged to the detective force called upon me in the House, and made inquiry about some one or two men who had visited the House. I told them all I knew at the time.

MR. LAWSON.—It is said you did not acknowledge the handwriting on the Speaker’s Gallery ticket as yours, and you said it was not your handwriting?—I simply said I could not swear to the writing as being mine.

THE HOME SECRETARY.—Have you any doubt about it?—I rather think it was I who wrote it, but I could not positively swear.—_The Times_, 20 April 1888.

II.

THE STORY OF THE CRONIN MURDER.

The Cronin murder trial ended yesterday, after prolonged deliberation on the part of the jury, in the conviction of four of the five prisoners arraigned. By the laws of the State of Illinois the jury not only decide the issues of guilty or not guilty, but also award the punishment of the convicts. To this fact is probably due the long delay in the present case in the announcement of the verdict. The jury have acquitted John F. Beggs. They have awarded imprisonment for life to Daniel Coughlin, Martin Burke, and Patrick O’Sullivan, whom they convict of murder; and imprisonment for three years to John Kunze, whose offence is reduced to manslaughter, and whose part in the crime was shown to be of a very minor kind.[7] Now that the case is over, it seems desirable to state in a connected form the theory upon which this remarkable trial was instituted by the State of Illinois.

The prisoners, Daniel Coughlin, Martin Burke, John F. Beggs, Patrick O’Sullivan, and John Kunze, were indicted for the murder of Dr. Patrick Henry Cronin, on May 4, 1889. The case naturally created intense excitement throughout the State, affecting as it did many and complex interests of party, race, and creed. Committees were formed and funds were raised for the prosecution and for the defence, and the prisoners were convicted and acquitted on the platform and in the Press, with that reckless disregard of common decency which disgraces the partisan warfare of America. American judicial proceedings are, however, framed to work in a society which habitually indulges itself in debauches of partisan fury, even while prisoners stand at trial for their lives, and accordingly the most elaborate safeguards are employed to secure the impartiality of the jury. The State and the prisoners exercise the right of challenge both peremptorily and for cause, in a degree undreamt of in this country. Each juror, before he is sworn to try the issues, is subjected to the most merciless examination and cross-examination by counsel for the State and for the prisoners, and challenges “for cause” are allowed on grounds which in English eyes appear ludicrously trivial. The prisoners in the Cronin case were, by law, entitled to twenty peremptory challenges apiece, or, as they combined their challenges, to one hundred peremptory challenges in all, and the State was also entitled to one hundred peremptory challenges. The work of impanelling the jury began on August 30, and ended on October 22. Seven full working weeks were spent in this preliminary labour. No fewer than 1115 unfortunate citizens of Cook County were exposed to the rigid scrutiny of counsel for the State and counsel for the defence. Of these, 927 were “excused,” to use the American euphemism, for cause, while 78 were peremptorily challenged by the State, and 97 were similarly challenged by the defence. Thus the State had 22 challenges unexhausted, and the defence only three when the tale was completed. At last, on October 24, the State’s Attorney “got down to trial” and made his opening speech. The case relied upon and proved by the State depended on the following assertions and inferences.

Dr. Cronin was summoned from his home at half-past seven on the evening of May 4, and never returned. On May 22 his naked body, bearing marks of violence, was found in the catch-basin of a sewer. The theory of the prosecution was that he was murdered in pursuance of a conspiracy, and that the accused, together with other persons not in custody, were members of that conspiracy. The jury by their verdict have declared that Dr. Cronin was so murdered, and that all the prisoners save Beggs did conspire to murder him. This conspiracy arose from a bitter quarrel within the ranks of the United Brotherhood, or Clan-na-Gael. The history of that organisation was sketched by State’s Attorney Longenecker in his opening speech. It was founded in 1869, to “free” Ireland by open warfare. Irishmen joined it from “patriotism,” Irishmen joined it for the purposes of American political warfare, and others “for the sake of the money that was in it.” The organisation grew “until now it stretches from ocean to ocean in our land.” It was organised by districts, each with its District Member and District “Camps.” Each “Camp” had a public name, by which alone it was known to the general public. Thus, “Camp 20,” to which several of the prisoners belonged, was called the “Columbia Club,” and other “Camps” were known as “Literary Clubs,” and so on. Prior to 1881 the organisation was governed by an Executive Body, which was composed of the District Members. In 1879 this Board consisted of fifteen members.

In 1881 a National Convention of the United Brotherhood was held in Chicago. At that Convention the Executive Body was reduced to five members, and Alexander Sullivan, Feeley, and Boland were appointed thereon. These three men constituted a majority of the new Board, and, in the State’s Attorney’s phrase, “took charge” of it. “They then adopted,” he says, “what is called the dynamite policy. They called it ‘active work.’ They adopted a policy to blow up property and individuals, and that policy was adopted immediately after they got possession of the Executive Board of the organisation.” Moreover, this new Executive Body inserted a provision in the oath of the organisation binding all members to obey the Executive Body without question. “If they directed a man to go and kill another man in England it had to be done, and they had no right to question the order.” In 1884 this controlling Board adopted the symbol of the Triangle, and issued orders under that designation. The whole object of this Junta was to steal the funds of the organisation, and the State’s Attorney roundly accuses them of endeavouring to effect this object by acts of well-nigh incredible infamy. They pretended to their organisation that great sums were being expended upon “active work.” To lend colour to this fiction they procured a certain amount of such work to be done. They sent emissaries to this country. But they failed to provide them with the funds indispensable for their personal safety. The men were referred to an agent of the organisation in England, and when they had reached this side of the Atlantic precautions were taken that they should not too speedily return. When the dynamite emissary landed in the United Kingdom, “I say to you,” says the State’s Attorney, “that somebody there made known who the man was, and what he was detailed to do, and he was immediately arrested and thrown into prison. To-day the prison doors in England are locked against twenty or more men who were sent there by that Board.”

The next trick of the Triangle, to hide their embezzlement of the funds, was to circulate a rumour that English detectives were watching the Order, and to get the biennial Convention postponed upon that plea. A meeting was held of the friends of the Triangle, “and they destroyed every vestige of work they had done. They destroyed their books, and then sent out a circular showing that the Order was indebted to them $13,000, notwithstanding when they took hold of it they had a fund of $250,000 in the treasury.” Naturally these proceedings led to great dissension in the Order, and finally to a split in its ranks. To the quarrel that thus arose, Dr. Cronin, on the theory advanced by the prosecution, and accepted by the jury, owed his death. Cronin from the first protested against the action of the Triangle. In 1885 he was tried for treason to the Order. Alexander Sullivan prosecuted, and the convict Daniel Coughlin sat on the Trial Committee. Cronin was convicted and expelled. Thereupon Cronin joined a new organisation formed by the seceding members of the Order, and no further steps were taken until June 1888. In that month a joint convention of the two factions was held in Chicago with a view to reunion. At that convention Cronin charged the old Triangle, which had then ceased to exist, with misappropriation of the funds of the Order, and with misconduct towards their emissaries to Europe. It was resolved that the charges should be investigated, and a Trial Committee of six, three from each faction, was appointed to try Sullivan, Feeley, and Boland. Of that Trial Committee, Cronin was a member. A memorandum in Cronin’s handwriting, containing the joint findings of Cronin himself, and one P. M‘Cahey, as members of the Trial Committee, and also minutes of the evidence adduced at such trial, were found amongst Cronin’s papers, and proved at the coroner’s inquest. These documents were, of course, inadmissible at the actual trial, according to a well-known technical rule of evidence, but, as they undoubtedly guided the State’s Attorney and his associates in framing the case against the prisoners, and as, moreover, they possess a very special and personal interest for Englishmen, we do not feel constrained to ignore their contents here.

The Trial Committee, it appears, met at Genesee House, Buffalo, on August 20, 1888. Alexander Sullivan objected that “one of the committee was a malignant enemy of his,” and he named Cronin as that enemy. Feeley and Boland joined in Sullivan’s objection, but Cronin denied that he had any personal enmity to Sullivan and the objection was overruled. Boland then charged the notorious John Devoy, who was a friend of Cronin’s, and attended the Trial Committee, presumably in his interest, with being a British spy. Cronin defended Devoy, the committee settled down to work, and the trial proceeded. The minutes of the evidence taken by this committee, and found in Cronin’s own handwriting, form one of the most startling documents ever produced in any Court. Four principal witnesses were examined in support of the charges made against the Triangle of neglecting to supply the emissaries actually engaged in dynamiting with funds, and of neglecting the families of those emissaries who had perished by explosions, or had been sent to penal servitude in this country. The first witness was himself one of the London dynamiters. The last was the widow of Mackey Lomasney, who was blown up while attempting to destroy London Bridge. The names of the male witnesses are not given. The first witness swore that after the Boston Convention of 1884, one Donovan, “who acted as agent for the body,” and “was then in the employ of General Kerwin,” asked him if “he could furnish enough men to accomplish a certain amount of active work.” The witness procured one recruit. Donovan and John J. Moroney paid their steerage passage, and gave them $100 each “to carry on work.” For further funds they were referred to “the agent on the other side.” The two dynamiters crossed to this country, but the funds were not forthcoming. The agent, it is satisfactory to learn, “was sure he had been betrayed by some one,” and it is yet more gratifying to know that he “is now in prison.” The witness then gives the following account of his exploits in this country, and of the base ingratitude of his employers:—

“At the agent’s request, work was delayed six weeks. I at last told him I would do the work. There were four of us.... I finally induced him to give orders to do the work. This was on Thursday. On Saturday we did it. After the work was done I met him the same evening. He remained in capital city seven days afterward. I was so reduced for funds that I prevailed upon him to give me four pounds of the sixteen he had left. On landing in this country had three-and-one-half pounds.... I at once complained to Donovan and Moroney, and through them to the executive, or General Kerwin, of the treatment I had received, and the culpable neglect of the F. C. About the last of February 1885, Donovan furnished me with $10 with which to reach my home.

“_Q._ How many operations did you perform?—_A._ Three. We always bade each other good-bye after each meeting, thinking it might be our last meeting on earth. I have learned that, in order to get back, the other man who went over with me had to sell his clothes to get passage-money. He came with a sprained ankle. In July or August 1885, he received $7 from Moroney.”

Subsequently the witness found that the mother of Cunningham, the dynamiter, was in want. He complained to Moroney and General Kerwin, whereupon Kerwin told him he ought to be expelled. The munificent sum of $100 was finally sent by the “F. C.” (Executive Body) to the mother of their dupe Cunningham, now undergoing in this country the just but awful punishment of penal servitude for life. The witness further ascertained that Mrs. Mackey Lomasney, the widow of Captain Mackey Lomasney, who “was killed in London, and was assured, witness was told, that his family would never want,” was in great distress. The relatives of Dr. Gallagher, another dynamite convict under a life-long sentence, were also in want. A hundred dollars was raised for Mrs. Gallagher. Then comes this terrible statement, a statement which should warn the miserable tools of the Clan-na-Gael what kind of succour they may look for from their chiefs when their “heroism” lands them in the dock. “I requested,” says this same witness, “that the men on trial on the other side should be defended. General Kerwin said that friendless men were better off in such cases.” To the men who have risked their lives at its bidding, the Order, with its ample revenues, grudges the few pounds needed for their legal defence, and coldly abandons them “friendless” to their fate.

The next witness confirms the above statements as to the conduct of the organisation towards Mrs. Cunningham. In July 1885, he succeeded John Moroney as D. M. (District Member), and in October of that year he “went out as an organiser of the National League in the West.” “I saw General Kerwin and told him that he should send money to Mrs. Cunningham, that the lady was hurt on the subject of being neglected by us. He said he would send it.”

The cross-examination of this witness was directed to show that he entertained animus against Kerwin and Boland for endeavouring to defeat his candidature for the presidency of the National League, which candidature, he alleges, had been officially adopted by the Clan-na-Gael. “The slate,” he says, “was Baldwin, Minton, and Carroll for F. C. (Executive Body), and myself as President of the League.” Boland asked him why he would not take the secretaryship.

The third witness, “a member since the beginning of the old organisation,” knew Mackey Lomasney, and remembers his departure for Europe in August 1884, with his brother Jim, and a third conspirator. The witness describes his efforts to obtain relief from the organisation for Mackey Lomasney’s widow. In 1885 he went to Newhaven and saw Dr. Wallace (who was then “D.”), Condon, and Boland. Boland “denied all responsibility,” and alleged that Mrs. Mackey Lomasney had been supplied with plenty of money. The witness called on Carroll. “He professed utter ignorance of the whole affair. I said, ‘By God, you must see her.’ Carroll offered the witness $100, which he refused. I said, ‘You know how to send this, as you have the others; if you respect the memory of the dead, and the widow and the orphan made so by your act, do your duty by all.’” The witness further states that Mrs. Mackey Lomasney continued to be in a poverty-stricken state, without coal or clothing, until August 1886.

The last witness was Mrs. Susan Mackey Lomasney herself. Upon Alexander Sullivan’s request, made presumably to show his reliance on the bare word of a dynamiter’s wife, she was not sworn. Mrs. Mackey Lomasney stated that her husband went away in August 1884, and that since that date she had received $1000 from the organisation. She called on Alexander Sullivan in 1885, but did not ask for help. In August 1886, she again visited Sullivan, explained to him the state of her affairs, and asked for help. “He asked me for a schedule of my liabilities—$200. He would attend to the matter. He gave me no money, nor offered me any.” Sullivan told the witness not to mention his name to any one. She then called on “James Q.,” who “talked to her about Father Dorney,” but gave her no help. The witness was so poor at this time that she borrowed a dress to visit Sullivan. Several weeks after the witness again called on Sullivan and applied for a loan of $100, which she obtained. That was all she ever got from Sullivan. In cross-examination Mrs. Mackey Lomasney admitted that her husband wrote to her from Europe, saying he had received money from Mr. Sullivan. The witness did not know the amount.

“Here,” say the minutes, “Mr. S. admitted that (Mackey) Lomasney was sent by the organisation.”

The Trial Committee was divided in opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the accused. Four members were for an acquittal. Two, Cronin and M‘Cahey, were for a conviction on the principal charges, and, in particular, on the charges of “scandalous and shameful neglect” of “the family of one who lost his life in the service of this Order,” and on that of issuing a fraudulent financial report and squandering the funds.

Dr. Cronin’s documents illustrate many interesting points. Amongst other things they prove that he, his friends Devoy and M‘Cahey and their faction, are to the full as wicked scoundrels as Sullivan, Feeley, Boland, and the party of the Triangle. The minority report does not condemn the Triangle for dynamiting, but for dishonest dynamiting. It does not reprobate the despatch of miscreants like Mackey Lomasney to work slaughter and destruction in the heart of a great city, but the subsequent neglect of the Order to keep faith with their emissary, by providing for his widow. It acquits the Triangle of wilfully omitting to supply the actual authors of the dynamite explosion with funds to fly from the law, but it severely censures their “agent” for the omission. Both wings of the Clan-na-Gael were engaged in the same devilish plots, and while every one must rejoice that the assassins even of a dynamiter should meet their lawful doom, Cronin merits no more sympathy as an individual than “Captain Mackey” himself. He was brutally murdered, while himself engaged in plotting the wholesale murder of others.

On the theory of the State’s Attorney, now endorsed by the verdict of the American jury, it was Cronin’s persistent efforts to have the evidence taken by the Trial Committee published with the report, that sealed his doom. That committee, as has been seen, sat in August 1888. The report did not appear while Cronin lived. But on the day of his murder the Executive Body of the Clan-na-Gael met, and on the next day, or the next day but one, the report was published to the Order. The evidence was not then issued with the report, but a protest from Alexander Sullivan was annexed thereto, in which he charged Cronin as a perjurer, and a traitor to the Irish cause. All the prisoners except Kunze were members of the Clan-na-Gael. All those members belonged to the same “Camp” of the Order, known in the ranks of the Order as “Camp 20,” and in public as the “Columbia Club.” The prisoner, John F. Beggs, was “Senior Guardian” of the “Camp,” and an intimate friend of Alexander Sullivan’s. On February 8, 1889, the “Camp” met, with Beggs in the chair, and from that meeting the prosecution dates the conspiracy to murder Cronin. A member got up and said that they should investigate the affairs of the Triangle, these men who had robbed them of their funds. The prisoner Coughlin and others demanded the speaker’s authority for this statement. He replied that he had heard part of the report of the Trial Committee appointed to try the Triangle read in another “Camp.” That other “Camp” was Dr. Cronin’s. The State alleged that Beggs made a violent speech and declared that he would not have these attacks made upon the Triangle, and that it had to be stopped if it took blood. Coughlin at once moved that a secret committee of three be appointed to investigate. The motion was carried, and the prisoner Beggs, as Senior Guardian, was directed to nominate the committee. All the accused except O’Sullivan and Kunze attended this meeting of “Camp 20.” Two days later Beggs wrote to his superior officer, a man named Spellman, and informed him that “it was charged that the S. G. of the Columbia Club at a recent meeting read to the assembled members the proceedings of the Trial Committee.” On February 17, Spellman disclaimed any jurisdiction “to inflict the penalty” in the case. On February 18, Beggs replied that the matter had to be investigated or there would be trouble. The State’s Attorney argued that this secret committee of three was in fact appointed to try, and did try, the murdered man, and that Spellman’s disclaimer of jurisdiction to inflict “the penalty” proves that Cronin had been convicted and already stood for sentence at the bar of the Order.

On February 19, a man giving the name of Simonds, who is not in custody, took rooms at 117 Clark Street, Chicago, immediately opposite to Dr. Cronin’s office. On the same day he bought some furniture and a carpet. He asked for goods of the cheapest quality, and stated that he required them only for temporary use. He also bought from the same dealers the largest packing trunk they had, a valise, and a trunk strap. He told the shopman that the first strap supplied to him was not large enough, and a larger one was procured. All these articles were put into the rooms at 117 Clark Street.

On March 20, a man, proved to be the convict Martin Burke, hired Carlson cottage, under the name of “Frank Williams,” for one month from Mr. Carlson, who himself lives next door. Burke then went to the prisoner P. O’Sullivan, whose premises immediately adjoin the Carlson cottage, and told O’Sullivan that he had taken it. Burke and another man not in custody next removed all the furniture, the trunk, the valise, and the carpet from 117 Clark Street into the Carlson cottage. This removal took place on the evening of March 20, the day Burke took the cottage.

O’Sullivan is an ice man by trade. On March 29, nine days after the taking of the cottage, O’Sullivan tried to find one Justice Mahoney, to come and make a contract between him and Dr. Cronin. O’Sullivan did not find the justice on March 29, but some time in April they went together to Cronin’s office, and a contract was made between O’Sullivan and Cronin, whereby Cronin agreed to attend to O’Sullivan’s workmen. O’Sullivan then gave Cronin some cards and said, “I may be out of town and my card be presented.” O’Sullivan’s business was not dangerous. No accident had ever occurred amongst his men. Numbers of doctors lived between O’Sullivan’s place of business and Dr. Cronin’s office, which is nearly an hour’s drive from O’Sullivan’s yard. “What,” the State asked, “was the object of this contract, made after the discussion in ‘Camp 20,’ and after Beggs had been directed to appoint the secret committee?”

On April 20, Martin Burke, under the _alias_ of “Frank Williams,” returned to the Carlson cottage and paid a second month’s rent in advance. He had never occupied the cottage. He said his sister was in hospital and could not come to housekeeping. The Carlsons grew uneasy about their tenants. They inquired of their neighbour O’Sullivan about these men, who had taken their house but never moved into it. O’Sullivan said, “You will get your rent; it is all right,” and told them he knew one of their tenants. Shortly before May 4 the convict Coughlin was heard to declare in a “saloon” or public bar that a certain north-side man, a leading Catholic, or a leading Irishman, would soon bite the ground, or to use words of the like effect.

On the evening of May 3 there was a meeting of “Camp 20.” A member asked if the secret committee appointed in February to inquire into the alleged publication of the report of the Triangle Trial Committee in Cronin’s “Camp” had itself reported. The State alleged that Beggs, the Senior Guardian, answered, “That committee is to report to me. The ‘Camp’ has nothing to do with that.”

Between eleven and one o’clock on May 4, the convict Coughlin went to Dinan’s livery stable and ordered a horse and buggy to be ready about seven that evening “for a friend.” Later he telephoned to the convict O’Sullivan to go out. About 7.15 in the evening Coughlin’s friend came and asked for the buggy. The ostler harnessed a white horse. The stranger objected to the colour, but the ostler said it was the only horse he could have. The stranger then drove to Dr. Cronin’s. He reached Cronin’s home about 7.20, gave him one of O’Sullivan’s cards, saying, “O’Sullivan is out of town, and here is his card”—the very words used by O’Sullivan himself when he made his contract with Cronin—and told Cronin that one of O’Sullivan’s men had his leg crushed, and that the doctor was wanted immediately. The doctor took his instruments and some cotton with him and drove hastily off in the buggy. He was never seen alive again.