The Sun.
London, England, 1867-11-27 00:00:00


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PRICY 4d.
STAMPED sd.

IIIEL.IND.

DUBLIN, Nov. 26.
The Fenian executions are still a fruitful topic of
discussion in the journ•►ls. In most of the organs
which profes3Radical principles they are condemned
in strong terms. The Evening Post, for ex•unple,
compares the treatmentof Ireland to that of Poland.

The Freeman's Journal con►pares Allen and his coin:
panions to Algernon Sydney a►nd fiord Win Russell.
The Cork Examiner says the Irish people will be-
lieve that three Of their fellow country►►►en " were
offered up on the scaffold as a sacriiiee to the spirit
of hatred and brutal revenge ;" and adds, " we, at
least, shall not persuade them to accept injustice
as one of the inevitable decrees of Providence."
The reckless perseverance with which a portion of
the press endeavours to embitter their national pre-
judices and represent the executions as a cruel and
unjustifiable tragedy may produce a crop of future
mischief. In admirable contrast with the tone of
such journals is an article in the Northern Whig,
which enforces with ability and earnestness the true
moral to be drawn from the scene of Saturday. The
Whig observes :—" A stripling of 19 and two other
Fenians have died for Kelly and Deasy, and, of
course, much Kelly and Deasy care. Stephens is in
Paris, avowing himself with suspicious ostentation
to be in great poverty, and borrowing money from
his friends to pay even the expenses of the advertise-
ments he issues for pupils as a teacher of English.
Kelly and Deasy are skulking in places best known
to themselves, evidently not disposed to run the
slightest risk. The challenge had been openly given
for this Fenian organisation if it possessed any vita-
lity worthy of acknowledgment by its enemies to
show itself. It slunk away to its fitting home,
the slums of Salford, Manchester, and Liver-
pool, and allowed the wretched dupes to die
the felon's death. It is capable of midnight
assa,sination, of the most atrocious threats, and
the vilest bombast. When, however, it is re-
solutely confronted, whether it be by a dozen Irish
policemen, or openly braved, as on Saturday morn-
ing at Manchester, by all that can stir the blood, it,
like the bully and coward it is, thinks nothing of its
solemn pledges, and is only anxious to save its own
skin. Compare this conduct with that of Garibaldi
and his volunteers near Rome. And yet we have
read in Irish organs, which abuse the liberty of the
press, and are themselves a proof that never before
did a Government tolerate so much, that Garibaldi,
for whom the whole Italian people have such a pas-
sionate veneration, is a mere filibuster, while Kelly
and Deasy are heroes ! • • • • .
This is not a time for sentimentalising on the un-
timely end of these three young men. It is not a
time for disgraceful threats of vengeance, such as
we see with regret some organs that we refrain from
naming have not hesitated to circulate and make
their own in leading articles. We believe that this
Fenian spirit would nearly disappear if part of the
Catholic press in Ireland, in professing to condemn
it, would not sympathise with it, and really trade
upon it. This is, however, openly and shamelessly
done. It is no glorious task thus to encourage,
while pretending to gently rebuke, a movement
which is known to be utterly hopeless, and which
has just sent three victims to the scaffold, and is
filling our prisons with misguided and desperate
men. It is no very glorious thing for editors and
proprietors of certai❑ newspapers to turn even Bri-
tish freedom against itself while writing against
oppression ; and to seek cunningly to graze the edge
of treason while carefully avoiding to incur its penal-
ties. The British people have no wish to maintain
any Irish abuses ; even the organs who tell their
readers the contrary know their assertions to be
false."

In the provinces the news of the executions
called forth no public manifestations such as had
bedn apprehended. The utmost tranquillity pre-
vailed everywhere, and in a few places was there
any noticeable expression of feeling. The only
locality where anything which could be called a
demonstration was made was the city of Cork.
It was, however, peaceable. The military had been
confined to barracks in readiness to act if required,
and armed patrols of police paraded the streets on
Saturday and Sunday nights, but remarkable quiet-
ness prevailed. The shops were half closed when the
intelligence arrived. On Sunday in most of the Ro-
man Catholic churches of the city, and also in
Queenstown, and in different parts of the county of
Cork, special reference was •made to the executed
Fenians in the prayers for the departed, and the
congregations, it is said, were deeply affected. At
the entrance-gates of several of the chapels were
placards with a deep mourning border, with the
words, " Of your charity pray for the repose of the
murdered patriots, Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin.
God save Ireland !" It does not appear that any at-
tempt was made from without or from within the
sacred edifices to disturb. this edifying document.
On Sunday numbers of young men of the city,
chiefly of the artisan class, wore crape hatbands and
green rosettes. Some well-dressed women also dis-
played mourning rosettes, and several vessels in the
river had their flags at half-mast. In some instances
funeral processions were formed. Biographical
sketches of Allen and O'Brien are given in the Cork
papers. W. P. Allen was born in 1848, in a village
near the town of Tipperary, and when about three
years old his parentsremoved to Bandon. His father
was a Protestant, and was keeper of the Bridewell.
He was educated in a school under the superintend-
ence of the lion. Mr. Bernard, now Bishopof Tuatn,
but his mother being a Catholic he became at an
early age imbued with her religious principles, and
about four years ago, when some Roman Catholic
missionaries visited the town, he openly conformed
to their church, and since then, it is stated, he has
been a strict and exemplary Catholic. His sister,
who lives in Cork, followed his example ; but his
four brothers remain Protestants. He was bound
apprentice to a respectable carpenter and timber
merchant in Bandon, and afterwards was induced
by some relatives to go to Manchester, where he con-
tinued to reside until the murder of Brett. Michael
O'Brien, alias Gould, was born near Ballymacoda, in
the county of Cork, where Crawley, another Fenian,
who was shot in an encounter with the military, re-
sided. He served an apprenticeship in the drapery
establishment of Messrs. Arnott and Grant, of Cork.
He afterwards spent some time in another firm, and
ultimately emigrated to America, where he had a
number of friends, some of them in prosperous cir-
cumstances. When the civil war broke out he joined
the Northern army and served in several campaigns.
At its close he wont to Liverpool and was soon after-
wards arrested on a charge of complicity with the
Fenian conspiracy. He escaped, however, on that
occasion, unfortunately for himself, and then re-
moved to Cork, where he got employment. Here his
Fenian principles became more fully developed, and
he took an active part in the treasonable organisa-
tion. On Shrove Tuesday night, when the rising
was made, he disappeared, and was not again heard
of until the rescue of Kelly and Deasy. He is sup-
posed to have been the fourth person in the party
with M'Clure, Kelly, and Crawley, in the collision
with the military on the 18th of September iu Kil-
clooney-wood. He looked so quiet and gentle that
he was called by the soubriquet of " Father Mike."
His friends are consoled with the assurance
that ‘4 Michael O'Brien died as he lived—a brave
Christian gentleman."

An application was made yesterday in the Court.
of Queen's Bench to admit Wm. J. Nagle, one of
the Fenian prisoners reserved for trial at the Sligo
Assizes, to bail, chiefly on the ground of ill health.
Since his arrest the Summer Assizes have been held,
and two commissions. At the last commission he
was assured that he would be arraigned after " Ge-
neral" Warren, but ultimately the trial was post-
poned. Mr. heron, Q.C., who applied on his be-
half, read an affidavit by Mr. 'Thornhill, a physician
to the prison, and Dr. Banks, stating that he was in
delicate health, and that further protracted wane-

e

THE FATAL FIRE AT DIIDDLEWICII.

Further particulars of the dreadful fire at Mid-
dlewieh, in Cheshire, have reached us. It occurred
in a solitary farmhouse in the neighbourhood of
Nantwieh, occupied by Mr. E. Cooke, a respectable
farmer, his wife, four children, three men servants,
and two women servants. Mrs. Cooke was up late
on Saturday night ironing some lioen, and she l at
the clothes-horse full of clothes before a blazing fire
in the kitchen. A man servant who slept on the
premises came down about 4 o'clock to see what
dine it was, and found the'' 11-use place" in flames.
Ile managed to get to a room Occupied by a set:,
vont maid, whom he awoke. The master, hea,,ing
the al.nan, cattle down the stairs leading to the
~;it-
she❑ from the apartment where he slept, 1)14, ither
from the fret of the smoke overpowering him or
from a thought of those he had left behind, he
rushed back upstairs, and nothing more was
seen of him. Two servant lads escaped,
One of the girls who slept in the same part of the
house as her master and mistress got on the sill of
one of the windows. Mrs. Cooke tried to stop the
girl, exclaiming she would be killed. The girl per—
sisted in jumping out, and so saved her life. The
man-servant, in the meantime, who had first given
the alarm, had procured a ladder, which was placed
against the house. lie endeavoured to get to his
master's room, and broke the window. He heard a,
cry from his mistress, who had a baby in her arr..es ;
but, owing to the flames and smoke, was unable to
render her any assistance. He then set off to Mid-
dlewich for an engine, which was brought as speedily
as possible to the spot; but as the house was one of
the old fashioned thatched buildings built of Wait
and plaster, its destrUction was inevitable. 'file
efforts of the firemen were therefore directed 'to the
preservation of the stacks and outbuildins. The
farm is the property of Sir John Chetwode, tho
owner of extensive property at Whitley, and the
house was one of those old-fashioned timbered erec-
tions which are too common in many parts of
Cheshire. It was a long, rambling edifice, and the
means of ingress and egress were of an exceedingly
limited character. The most painful thing to relate
is that Mr. and Mrs. Cooke, with their four young
children and a nurse-girl, were entirely consumed,
so that only the partial remains of some of them
could be recovered from the ruins. On Monday an
inquest was held by Mr. IV. J. E. Dunstan, the
coroner, and a respectable jury of farmers and a few
gentlemen from Middlewich. The evidence con-
sisted of that of John Roylance, the waggoner of
Mr. Cooke, Ann Davenport, his maid-servant, and
a police-constable. On the Saturday there were
nine persons sleeping in the house. Itoylance said
he awoke in a fright, having been dreaming that he
was killed. On going downstairs about half-past 4
in the morning he heard a crackling noise, and on
banging the door open he saw the house on fire. He
immediately gave the alarm, and on running round
he heard screaming in his master's bedroom. He went
on horseback to Middlewich for the engine. All
that remained of the house was the chimney and
gable end and the kitchen. Ann Davenport's evi-
dence described the position of things on the family
going to bed. She said that she went to bed at 11
o'clock on Saturday night last, leaving Mr. and Mrs.
Cooke in the house-place having their supper.
There was a clothes-maiden in the house-place for
airing the clothes. At nearly 1 o'clock on Sunday
morning her mistress came to her and said, "You
have not gone to sleep !" I said, " Yes, I have been
to sleep, but have wakened." She said, " There is
a clothes-maiden before the fire; you must in the
morning take the maiden and clothes away, and riot
dirty them." Master had put soma wood on the
fire, and had h-ft it a good fire. She awoke not long
before she was called by Royiance, and heard a
crackling, and she thought the lads had kindled the

fire, as they sometimes did. When Roylance
shouted she jumped up, and ran into the master's
room for some matches and wakened him. There
was no smoke or fire there then. All the children
but Ellen -were asleep. Her master and mistress
were awake. Master ran down stairs and opened

the door at the foot of the stairs. The house-place
was then full of flames, which flashed upstairs, and
her master fell backwards. He ran to her mistress

—she got up and clasped hold of him. She took up
the baby and put it down again. Witness ran into
the room, and after some time succeeded in open-
ing the window. Her mistress got hold of her leg
just as she was going to jump out. Oilier, on the
outside, had brought a ladder, which she got partly
on and jumped down. She asked her mistress to
jump down, but she said she could not, and went
back to the children. She never saw her mistress
or the children again. Her master put his head
through the window as if for fresh air, and then
went back. Fire-engines arrived from Middlewich.
She was naked, and ran to the chapel-house
(Venables) very soon after her master had gone from
the window. The baby's name was Mary, and. was
born in May. Ellen was seven years old, Sophia
was four years, and Edward two. Her master was
40 years of age, and his wife Elizabeth about 36
years old. The nurse-girl, Elizabeth Shaw, was the
daughter of Edward Shaw, a labourer, in the
Potteries; she slept in the room witness did ; she
was part asleep; witness shook her, but could not
• awaken her ; witness could not speak to her, her
breath was stopped ; she was suffocating; she was
12 years old last Jane. All these seven persons
were suffocated and dead before the house fell in.
There was not a fire that night in the master's bed
room. The parents and children slept in two beds
in the same room. Where the remains of the mas-
ter and mistress were found upon the ground was
exactly under where their bed would be. There
was an iron guard before the fire, between the fire
and the clothes-maiden. It was a thatched house,
with a great deal of wood about it. She heard the
master say twice, " The Lord have mercy upon
us." Thomas Hardern, police canstable, said when
he arrived before the engines the chamber flooring
had fallen in. Eventually the whole house came
down, except the two chimneys and part of the
milkhouse. He found the burnt remains of a
body, apparently of a grown-up man. By them
lay the remains of a smaller body, which he be-
lieved to have been Mrs. Cooke's remains. On mov-
ing these he found the wedding ring produced.
About a yard from them were the remains of a
child. The feathers of a pillow or bed lay under-
neath them, and a piece of a bed-post. He found
a piece of a shin or thigh on the ground, which was
under where the girl Shaw had been sleeping. All
the remains found were burnt almost to tinder, and
so as to be impossible to be recognised except as to
sizes. The coroner then addressed the jury, re-
marking that of all the awful occurrences which
had taken place in their experience probably none
bad equalled in painful interest the one constituting
the subject of the present inquiry, and he then said
there was no evidence to show how the fire origi-
nated. The jury returned the following verdict :
1 hat the seven deceased persons met with their
death from suffocation from the flames and smoke
arising from the house taking fire. As to the cause
of the fire the jury have no evidence to show."

GUILD COURT.. By George Mac Donald, M.A.
3 vole.—"'Guild Court' is a clever, interesting, and most
graceful work, revealing in an eminent degree those gifts
to the possession of which Mr. Mac Donald owes his re-
putation. It is in many respects the best, and in all re-
spects the most characteristic he has yet written. It has
a clear stream of poetry, powerful interest, exquisite work-
manship, and a strongly urged moral. Its characters are
skilfully depicted and developed, and its plot is cleverly
evolved. When we say that it is Mr. Mac Donald's mas-
terpiece, we say that it is one of the best works of modern
fiction."—Sunday Times.

THE LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE OF THOMAS
SLINGSBY DVNCOMBE, late M.P. for Fiusbury. By his Son.
2 vols.—" These volumes contain much racy anecdote, and
some startling disclosures which will ruffle politicians.
Duncombe was at the same time a darling of Mayfair, a
leader of fashion, a man of many pleasures, and a hard-
working member of Parliament, who delighted to be called
a Tribune of the People. Fe A' men of his time were of
greater mark amongst the notabilities of London than this
patrician radical, who was Count D'O►ssay's Dear Tommy,'
and Finsbury's Honest Tom Duucombe.' Mr. Dun-
combe's singular carer is ably handled by his only child.
lie tells us much that the world did not know concerning
his remarkable sire."--Atknoutii.

m9),kivould bo injurious to him. The Attorney-Ge-
neral and Solicitor-General opposed the motion, and
the Court reserved judgment until to-day.