and charging them secretly with Fenianism. At that time the Habeas Corpus Act was repealed and any one arrested could be kept in prison, without trial, for a period of two years. When a man was tried he felt that he was to face a partisan Judge and a packed jury. I am not going to make the charge that juries were always wilfully packed, but I know that many a jury was afraid to give an accused the benefit of any doubt, because the liberty of each member of that jury was imperilled.
I remember reading of one instance where the accused was so well pleased with the personnel of the jury that he did not challenge any one, but when his counsel whispered that it was strange, he replied, " The jury's all right, but I'd loike to challenge the Judge."
The witnesses were also afraid to testify too strongly in favor of the defendant, for if they did, they might be treated as I heard a witness treated in Cork. Judge Keogh, who had been a Nationalist at one time, but was accused of betraying his fellow Nationalists, listened to a witness who told a very straightforward story, and then advised the Chief of Police to look into the character of the witness, as it was likely he was a Fenian. Of course the witness was arrested.
There is a very good story being retold, but which is actually a true story of those days. A Judge was trying a case where the accused could only understand the Celtic language, and so an interpreter had to be employed. The official interpreter was a good fellow, whose wish was to do justice, but he certainly had leanings towards the defendant.
The accused man was holding a long conversation with the interpreter, and that worthy did not translate the speech to the Court. At last the Judge demanded to know what had been said.
"Nothing, my lord," was the interpreter's unblushing reply.
"How dare you say that when we all heard you talking to him. Come, sir, what was it?"
"My lord, it had nothing to do with the case."
"If you do not tell me what he said I'll commit you for contempt. Now what did he say?"
"Well, my lord, you'll excuse me, but he said, 'Who's that ould woman with the red bed curtains round her sitting up there?'"
Everyone in Court laughed, and the tip-staff did not, for a moment, try to stop the unseemly conduct. The Judge, in his red robes and white wig, colored until his face was brighter than his red robes and asked:
"And what did you say?"
"I said, ' Whisht, ye spalpeen! That's the ould boy that's goin' to hang yez.'"
When a famous Fenian was being tried, he was browbeaten by the Judge until he could stand it no longer, and made retort in epigrammatic language:
"My lord, you can insult me as much as you please, it is for that you are there; but I am charged with the offense of being an Irishman who loves his country, and a renegade's insults flow from my character like water from a duck's back." The Judge was the notorious William Keogh, the friend of Sadlier, and a renegade Nationalist.
