hands the uncontrolled power of preventing the arrival of a single grain
of corn; and, if so minded, could starve the island in a fortnight,
supposing the people were even able to possess themselves of all the
cattle in the country.

These were some of the considerations which influenced the decision of
Mr. Mitchel's comrades. Whether the opinion were or were not a correct
one, they acted on the conviction that, under all circumstances, any
attempt to rescue him would eventuate in a street row which would entail
not only defeat but disgrace. If they could but persuade themselves that
a blow might be struck, even though defeat and death followed, they most
certainly would have attempted it. It was generally understood, on the
day before the trial, that the idea of a rescue was abandoned; and the
trial commenced amidst gloomy presentiments and blighted hopes. After
hours of quibbling and legal fencing, a jury was selected, by the crown,
to convict. From the moment they went through the blasphemous process of
swearing to give a true verdict, John Mitchel's fate was sealed.

I pass over the details, and come to the last act in the infamous drama,
called his trial.

The following account of the closing scene is not mine. Feeling
inadequate to describe a scene of which even a distant recollection is
exciting, I asked a friend who felt the deepest interest in the trial to
describe it. With what he has written I entirely agree, save one
sentence. He says that it was owing to the action of the council of the
Confederation John Mitchel's personal friends were allowed to be
assaulted, with impunity, by the police. I do not think so. With respect
to the decision of the council, I feel bound to assume my share of its
responsibility, although I yielded to it with the utmost reluctance and
regret:--

On the morning of Saturday, the 27th May, 1849, the court was crowded to
a greater excess than usual, even in those days. About the empty dock
were the personal friends of Mr. Mitchel, those who agreed with him, and
those who did not. A little retired on either side sat John Martin, and
John Kenyon--in front were William H. Mitchel, brother of the prisoner
and his only relative in court, T. Devin Reilly, Thomas F. Meagher, John
B. Dillon, Michael Doheny, Richard O'Gorman, Martin O'Flaherty (Mr.
Mitchel's attorney), Charles O'Hara and others whom we have forgotten.

A little in advance, on the left of the dock, were the stalls reserv