iercely, and, as the
following incident will show, while the mania lasted even the police
were not entirely free from it.

The site of the noble Gothic edifice, Holy Cross Church, Great Crosshall
Street, Liverpool, was, at this time, occupied by a ramshackle place
made into a temporary chapel out of a number of old houses. It was so
constructed that from any part you could see the altar, if you could not
always hear Mass.

This was not, however, an unusual thing in Liverpool in the old days,
particularly in the Famine years, when our panic-stricken people came
into Liverpool like the wreck of a routed army.

The chief feature of the old Holy Cross Chapel was a long narrow flight
of stairs, leading from Standish Street, the side street off Great
Crosshall Street, up to a higher part of the building which served the
purpose of a gallery.

The famous Dr. Cahill came to Holy Cross to preach, and every part of
the building was crowded to suffocation. In the middle of the sermon an
alarm was raised of a broken beam or something of the kind, and the
people commenced to rush down the narrow stairs in a state of panic.

Such of them as could crush their way out, instead of being assisted,
were set upon and assaulted with their batons by several policemen, who
were in the street outside. So great was the indignation in the town,
that a public inquiry was held, and it was proved that the police not
only brutally struck men, women and children, but even a blind man who
was trying to grope his way out. They also used foul expressions about
"Popery" and the "bloody Papists," and it was afterwards proved that
these very men had themselves raised the alarm, apparently to get an
excuse for breaking the heads of the unfortunate people. An honest
police official, whose duty it afterwards became to make a report of
what had occurred, came upon the scene, and did what he could to stop
the brutality.

When Dowling, the head constable, came to the police office next
morning, and saw the official report in the book kept for the purpose,
he caused the leaf containing it to be torn out, and another report by
one Sergeant Tomlinson to be substituted for it. Mr. Mansfield, the
stipendiary magistrate, who conducted the inquiry, denounced Dowling and
Tomlinson for what he called "the disgraceful and discreditable
suppression of the report which," he added, "was no doubt true. He had
never heard of more disgraceful proceedings in his life."