The Sun.
London, England, 1868-04-24 00:00:00

THE FENIANS AT THE OLD BAILEY.

The Fenian prisoners now at the bar of the Old
Bailey are of widely different-physiognomical types.
Viewed from the bench there is indeed little in
common between the row of faces in the dock oppo-
site save a certain stoicism or hardihood which
contrasts strangely with the miserable appearance
of the abject creature testifying against them.
Mullany, unless appearances belie him, is the most
actually wretched man in court. Ghastly pale, and
with sunken eyes, which look more sunken from
his standing with his back to the light, the
approver, while under cross-examination, seems
to be the hunted man. All present, including
the prisoners, seem to listen to him with lofty
contempt. None is so poor as to render him
anything but scorn at the whining plea that his
duty to his young family made him a traitor,
and had kept him from accompanying the barrel-
firing party to Clerkenwell, though he subscribed
for the purchase of powder, and was cognisant of
the entire scheme. The prisoner Barrett smiles,
and Ann Justice laughs outright. While pressed
home by the various counsel for the prisoners,
Mullany's long nervous fingers close half convul-
sively round the brass knobs of the rail before
him ; he MOVe4 restlessly from foot to foot ;
his voice is so low and husky that he is fre-
quently reproved for not 6, speaking up," while
his tongue rolls and lips quiver, as if the one
clove to his mouth, and the other were parched
and dry to a degtee which inakQs free speech im-
possible. Every eye is on him, and as he stammers
out his answers and explanations in a broad
Irish accent, he strives to avoiJ looking at the
dock, as if the sight of his late comrades and vic-
tims were unbearable ; yet now and again he glances
there as if fascination overcame and conquered
shame and self-contempt. But for his prtsut de-
gradation and distress he would pass for a good-
looking man of 30, of slim figure, and whose Shak-
spere collar, gay neckcloth, and shabby genteel
cloth garments seem to verify his statement that he
earned £5 a week in good times, but had been out
of luck lately through the tailors' strike. All this
time William Desmond, said to be one of the
ruling spirits who planned the outrage, sits in
front of his fellow-prisoners, with his face in

profile, sternly gazing on the witness, writing
little notes from time to time to his attorney be-
low, and receiving and tearing up the brief
answers of the latter. An unusually large and
heavy beard, sandy in hue, and extending broadly
over chest and shoulders, a regular nose, keen grey
eyes, :which dart their penetrating glances from
beneath bushy, overhanging brows ; a broad, well-
shaped forehead ; short, dark brown hair ; a
thoughtful, intelligent face ; florid complexion, a
generally respectable exterior, and an air of con-
fident and unceasing watchfulness make this Des-
mond the most striking figure in the dock. A pro-
fessional lecturer, the crack orator of a debating
club, a shrewd dogmatic expounder of half-truths
arid crotchets to uneducated companions, are all
phases of character to which his appearance and
demeanour would fit in. The man next him, his
namesake, but, as is easy to see no relation,
Timothy D..striond (said to have been drunk at the
time of the outrage, and to have disobeyed the
orders of the first Desmond by not sleeping for an
hour) is his antithesis in every particular. He is
thin in person and shabby in dress. A cadaverous,
uneasy face ; thin, weak beard and whiskers ; dark,
curly hair, and a restless, hungry, fretful, dan-
gerous look, which accords fully with his frequent
change of posture and fidgetty uplifting of hands
and arms ; his demeanour is the more striking
from the calm repose of the right-hand neighbour
we have described, and the sodden, callous in-
difference of the prisoner English on his left. This
man is the oldest and most repulsive-looking of
the party. Ile is credited with the speech, "
! We'll burn the whole of London ; and
that will be more diabolical !" O'Keeffe, who
comes next in order from left to right, is com-
paratively characterless—little weak and straggling
hair on chin and cheeks, a wavering mouth par-
tially open, and an aspect of stolid, unintelligent
endurance, brightened by fitful, half-formed
smiles when Mullany is made more than usually
uncomfortable, are the points in which he differs
chiefly from Barrett or Jackson, who sits be-
tween him and Ann Justice. The man last
named (who is accused of having actually fired the
barrel) is better dressed than the rest, and of an
obviously higher station. Under other circum-
stances you would admire his look of determination
and frank courage. A bright, resolute eye, quiet
in marking the slightest and most trivial incident
in court; a confident, brisk bearing ; manly, regu-
lar features ; a short, crisp beard, thick hair, and a
muscular, compact figure, show him to be the
sisal, as William Desmond is the mental, superior
of all the people accused. He, too, writes frequent
notes to his attorney, and often smiles contemptu-
ously at Mullany's statements and admissions, but
in an Offhand, dashing way, as if a mere informer
were really too s•nall a subject for serious indig-
nation. Ann Justice (who had interviews with
Burke and Casey in prison, and is charged
with having acted as go-between between them
and their would-be deliverers), in a coarse
woollen shawl, pinned closely to the throat,
as if to conceal an insufficiency of under gar-
ments, and with bold dark gleaming eyes which
rove unabashed about the court, is evidently ex-
pecting friends. Whenever a door opens or the
least movement is made by officials or barristers,
this woman's eye is there. She examines every face
and looks round and round,
quickly and suspiciously,
finally bending her body back to obtain a good up-
ward gaze at the sitters in the gallery behind and
above the dock. Inquisitive, expectant, and, if her
situation were less critical with what one would call
a sense of humour, she looks about and around her
with unaffected interest. The coarse woodcut
sold in the streets is wonderfully like, and her
good-looking, common face is that of hundreds of
women to be seen at court-entries and gin-shop
doors in the poor neighbourhoods of hidden London.
Her look of restless cunning is brought into re-
lief by the stolid, immovable features of the female
turnkey sitting behind her, who might be a mask
of wood in blue ribands and a bonnet. Ann Justice
drinks greedily of the water brought her, turning
round, as if in politeness to the Judge, while doing
so. The bold respectability in black behind the
male prisoners is the turnkey, and looks every inch
a vestryman ; while the city police-officers are plen-
tifully distributed about and around the dock,
bringing into still stronger contrast the character-
istics These remain unaltered
of ~the accused.
during our stay, and without building up a theory
or deducing a single inference from what we saw,
we give the foregoing as a tolerably faithful picture
of the Fenians in the dock.—Express.