The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-02-08 00:00:00

THE CROPPY'S FINGERS—A TALE OF WHITE-
BOYISM IN IRELAND.
(From the Dublin University Magazine.)
I was one of a party of six, during these fearful scenes,
at the hospitable table of Mr. Hugh Norton, a Doneraile
gentleman, who resided within two miles of the town of
that name. Mr. Norton was a county magistrate—an
efficient but humane one. He sought at all times to draw
the line of demarcation between the agent and the tool, in
the outrages he was required to investigate. He was aware
of the many ignorant peasants who were entrapped into
this evil combination, and held there by the thraldom of
fear ; and he laboured zealously so to protect even the
weakest and meanest, that none might say he had joined
the conspiracy, save of his own free will. But while he
pitied the victim, he was uncompromising in his hostility
to the fomentor of disturbance. With clear-headed dis-
cretion, with untiring vigilance, he tracked out the leader,
and punished him •, and his knowledge was so extensive
and varied, that the guilty in every locality were arrested
almost on the instant of their breaking the law, and oftbn
eyen prior to the commission of their offence. By the
loyal and peaceable he was regarded as a very pillar of
their support • and more than once the Executive had
written to thank him for his exertions. But, on the
other hand, the dislike of the rebellious rose almost to
fiendish malignity. Letters reached him in various
modes, and sometimes by the post itself, declaring to him
that is doom was sealed ; and more than one attempt
made on his life, which was repelled only by his own
calm heroism, proved the intensity of the Whiteboys'
hatred to this firm administrator of the law.
Norton was a brave, but not a rash man. Disdaining
to leave his house for threatening's sake, he removed the
female members of his family to the city of Cork, and
having strengthened his mansion so that it might stand a
siege, and garrisoned it with some of his tenantry on
whom he could rely, he determined to defy his intended
assassins. His friends, in admiration of his heroism,
seldom left him without their protection likewise ; and
his official character bringing him much into contact with
the military, he either dined at the Doneraile mess con-
tinually, or had the officers for his own guests at home.
The dinner party of which I am speaking was of this kind,
being modified by out-of-door events. Unblesssd with
female society, we sat down but half-a-dozen in number,
and of them, four were " men of war." The room itself
showed tokens of the times. The shutters were sheeted
with iron, so as to be ball-proof ; the side-table had pistols
and daggers laid among the rich array of plate ; the
guests, moreover, had come armed to the teeth, and in
this very guise sat down to the cheer laid before them.
The dinrer was plain and good, and the wines excel-
lent ; but good things themselves must come to a close,
and the bringing in of coffee afforded a welcome con-
clusion. Young Harry Melsop, one of the military men,
proposed an adjournment to the porch, for the enjoyment
of cigars, and hummed some fragmentary verses to the
moon, which he declared was looking graciously from
heaven upon us. We agreed ; and mine host, who averred
that he alone was acquainted with the mysteries of the
bars and locks of the hall-door, proceeded, in anticipation
of our going out, to make a free passage for us. We
heard him removing bolt after bolt, and shooting back
manifold locks, until at last he stepped through the
entrance, and trode the gravel outside. Just then came a
thundering explosion, and a yell of pain from the far dis-
tance; and as we tumultuously arose, with no other ex-
pectation than that of finding our murdered friend's re-
mains, his cheersome voice greeted us—
"No harm done. The gun burst, I think, with the
villain."
An unfeigned thanksgiving burst from every lip.
"On my coming outside," Mr. Norton continued,
" the whole lawn looked so peaceful in the moonlight,
that I half forgot the danger of exposing myself unpro-
tected. Something, I thought, soon after stirred in the
midst of the clump of trees yonder; but the underwood is
so thick that I could not tell whether it was not an animal
grazing. I stood, however, marking the place intently,
and in a few seconds a man disguised with a veil of crape
emerged from the thicket, looked at me, hesitated, and
then presented his piece and fired. I could have shot him
before he pulled his trigger, and actually had him covered ;
but his aim was so wild and unsteady, that I knew he
must miss me ; and, unless 1 greatly err, the unfortunate
wretch has had his own punishment. Heard you not his
agonising sreams ?
A very few seconds brought the whole party into the
shrubbery, which we subjected to a close scrutiny. In
the place pointed out by Mr. Norton, we found traces of
the assassin's hiding. The grass was trampled on, and
the bushes had been set aside so as to form a kind of re-
cess ; and there were found, further on, more evident
tokens. We picked up the shattered stock of a blunder-
buss, and fragments of its lock and barrel; a track of gore
led on to a stone fence, over which the fellow had fled,
but the stains suddenly ceased on the other side. As we
were engaged in this exploration, the smart trot of cavalry
was heard; a passing patrol filed into the avenue, and the
officers, and attending magistrate, instantly joined our
small body. They warmly congratulated Norton on..his
escape, adding that the flash had been seen by them from
the top of Scargannon hill, and that they had pushed
on to give assistance as speedily as possible. A scouring
of all the contiguous fields was recommended, as in some
of them the wounded Rockite was in -all probability
hiding ; and a search to be made at the same time of the
suspected houses in the neighbourhood, whither he might
have betaken himself for shelter.
Melsop was the last lingerer in the grove. He seemed
to quit it with reluctance, and once or twice called the
party back, on the plea that we had not sufficiently ex-
amined all its retirements. At last he expressed himself
satisfied that there was no corner where _further evi,1e,,,00
of the criminal might- 10M-er for. He was lightly
stepping forward from the trees, when-he in that instant
found he trode on something that slipped with his feet.
He stooped, and among the long meadow-grass found—a
portion of a man's left hand ! Begrimed with gunpowder,
and blood, and clay, where the first two fingers and thumb
of a human hand, connected merely by a long strip of
skin. His exclamation drew us all around him ; and once
more we paused, and deliberated on ulterior proceedings.
And here (for I am narrating a true story) the providence
of the Lord in heaven, that we see so constantly displayed
in the detection of every Cain, was abundantly manifested.
Mr. Norton gazed for a while on the gastly relics ; and
then a gleam of discovery crossed his features. He washed
the mutilated fragments in a pool of rain-water, formed
where carts had been crossing, and holding them up in
the silvery light of the moon, exclaimed—
" They are his : they are Hickey's fingers ! "
He bade us examine them carefully. They were portions
of a hand of huge dimensions, and were remarkable for
the bushy patches of red hair growing on the back of the
large middle finger especially. The hand itself must have
received extensive, if not fatal, injury ; and from our
knowledge that it was the left hand, we had important
help towards detection of the criminal. Norton's counte-
nance fell again. He seemed struggling with intense
mental feeling. Doubt or hesitation there was none; but
there was manifested an incredulity—an unwillingness to
believe that which his eyesight proclaimed a fact.
" They are Hickey's," again he repeated, with almost
mechanical precision, "set if his they be, then is there
no faith in human nature."
Hickey was his steward, his valued and trusted humble
friend. He had often entreated his master to be on his
guard : and had proved his fidelity by several times re-
vealing plots of which he had obtained knowledge. He
had lived with him more than twenty years, and during
that whole period had devoted himself exclusively to his
interests ; and now that it should have been he who had
made this murderous attempt, seemed incredible. There
was no reason in the range of possibility for his doing so.
No ; it could not have been he.
But the fingers were in his grasp ; and the red clumps
of hair on them asserted it was none else.
That very day Hickey had given in to his master a pay-
sheet of the labourers, in which were some items disputed
by them. In explaining the accounts, and justifying his
entries, he had held the sheet for nearly half-an-hour in
his left hand; and his master's eye, in traversing the
columns, casually rested on this fist of an Esau, attracted
by its hirsute furnishing. And the wisdom of God, in so
directing him, seemed now apparent ; for a fragment of
that same hand was before him palpably—that hand which
had been raised to shed his blood.
"We must away to my steward's house," at length
said Mr. Norton ; . if the assassin is to be found he is
there. At all events, I shall acquit myself of this harrow-
ing suspicion,"
The men moved in silence, and at the foot of a narrow
boreen, or bridle-path, broke into single files. We reached
the house, and surrounded it.
Our knocking for a time seemed fruitless, and we had
commenced breaking-in the door, when a woman's voice
was heard from within, questioning us as to who we were,
Open th. doer," 41inndereII-2Tir' • M-7-- T tren
flure—
your master."
The fastenings were undone, and the woman, who was
no other than Hickey's wife, dropping a curtsey, apolo-
gised fbr the delay. She averred that her husband and
herself had been asleep, and that they were "afraid of the
Whiteboys to open the door. But that now, shure, all
was right, and his honour was welcome to his own house."
" I must go in and see Hickey," interrupted Mr. Nor-
ton ; " so light a candle, and show me the way to your
room.
The candle was got, after a protracted delay, but had to
be lighted at a neighbouring house, as the fire had dwindled
down into ashes at Hickey s. Taking Melsop and myself
with him, and bidding the rest to be on the alert, Norton
ascended the narrow stairs, to the upper chamber. We
advanced to the bed, in which lay Hickey, apparently
asleep.
" He's waried after the labours of the day, your
honour," exclaimed the woman who had followed us,
" and tis a cruel case to brake his rest ; but ye know
best, I'm sure."
" Silence, woman. Hallo ! Hickey, awaken !!'
The steward turned on his side, yawned, and seemed
puzzled with our presence. But his master straightway
said—

" Come, Hickep, stretch out your hand."
He obeyed, but gave his right hand.
" I want the other ; you cannot hide it."
It had not escaped us from the commencement, that all
this while the apparent slumberer had studiously thrown
into the shadow his left side, and now when he exposed
it, the reason was evident—his left arm was an unsightly
heap of bandages.
" Why, what has happened to you ? You were quite
well at the office to-day," said Mr. Norton.
" After that, sir," replied Hickey, " I went down to
the limestone quarry to see how the men were gettin on,
and not minding myself, a rock fell on my hand and
crushed it ; and when I came home I took to the bed, as
I felt weak with the loss of blood."
The fellow's countenance contradicted each word of the
statement. There was guilt in every line, and shame,
and sorrow; and there was sorrow also in his master's
voice, as he indignantly looked upon the mutilated hand,
saying—
" You have lost some of your fingers—see, I have
found them for you."
* * * * * * * *