Twenty Years' Recollections of an Irish Police Magistrate. Frank Thorpe Porter
it's likely to end that way," replied the marker, "for he was rather loosely conducted, and now he has but a very short time to make his soul."
His Excellency departed greatly disconcerted; he felt that he had been too hasty in his wager. His thousand guineas appeared to be hopelessly gone, and he could not bear to think how Lord Sydney Osborne would chuckle at a walk over. He dined that day in Stephen's Green with his very intimate friend, Sir Hercules Langrishe, to whom he took an opportunity of communicating his unpleasant predicament. To his great surprise, Sir Hercules did not appear to think that there was much difficulty in the matter, and he even intimated his willingness to back Flood for a hundred or two. "There is no danger," observed the baronet, "of a change of ministry; you will be Lord Lieutenant for some years; so the sooner you give Flood a pardon, and set him to practise for the match, the better chance for your wager."
"Could there be a memorial got up in his favor?" suggested his Excellency.
"It would not be advisable," replied Sir Hercules; "it would make the affair a public topic. No, that would not do; just send over a pardon to-morrow; let Flood come to me. I shall procure liberty for the fellow to practise at the Shelbourne Barracks, and he also can get into the court at the club at early hours, as it is there that the match is to be played."
It was soon known that Flood was saved. The motive was left to public ingenuity to discover, and, consequently, every reason except the true one was assigned. It was supposed by many that he had given some valuable information about a recent mail-coach robbery; but in the meanwhile, he had been made aware of the high opinion entertained of his skill as a racket-player, and the expectations that he would win the match.
Full of gratitude for having been rescued from the gallows, he promised to win, and redeemed his promise. His noble antagonist was an excellent player, but in hand, eye, and agility, the tailor was greatly superior. The nobleman became agitated and lost his temper, which was speedily followed by his money. His aristocratic feelings were not, however, outraged by even a suspicion of the fact, that he was defeated by a little tailor, who, if the law had been permitted to take its course, would have "shuffled off his mortal coil" in front of Newgate; and who had been liberated from the condemned cell only for the purpose of liberating a thousand guineas from the pocket of a duke's brother.
His Excellency gave Flood fifty pounds and some good advice, suggesting a removal from Dublin and even from Ireland; but Flood was for some time unwilling to depart. He remained in a city where he could only be known as "the unhanged one," and where his character could not be retrieved. His trade was useless. He could not obtain any employment. His money was soon exhausted, and he had an insuperable objection to recur to his former habit of taking nocturnal strolls in quest of watches and purses. Unwilling to give the law another lien on his neck, he at length determined to leave Ireland as soon as he could obtain means of crossing the Channel. Mr. Gonne was rather surprised by receiving a visit from him, and still more by the request of a couple of pounds. The indignation of a man who had been robbed of his watch and money exploded at once. He assured Flood of his sincere regret and deep disappointment at the gallows having been shamefully defrauded of its due. He then informed him, in terms more plain than polite, that he could not expect any contribution on the voluntary principle, but that a reasonable expenditure would be willingly incurred to procure a halter, if its application to Flood's neck was guaranteed. The "unhanged one" bore all this very meekly, and said that he had a simple and intelligible proposal to make, namely, that Mr. Gonne should lodge two pounds in the hands of a certain person, on condition that the money should be restored if the watch was not recovered by its owner; but if the article was obtained for Mr. Gonne, Flood was to receive the deposit, to enable him to leave Dublin for ever.
This offer was acceded to, and the cash was lodged with Jack Stevenson of St. Andrew Street. Jack was a man of very extensive connections. He had nephews and nieces in abundance; and whenever any of them wished to retire plate, jewels, or trinkets from the vulgar gaze, Jack, like an affectionate uncle, advanced, and took charge of the valuable articles. He adorned the space between his front windows with the ancient crest of Lombardy, three golden apples; and his transactions with his relatives were of such a particular nature, that they were recorded in duplicate. He had known Flood in his early days, before he had become an adept either in racket-playing or robbing. He consented to hold the money subject to the specified conditions; and then Flood and Gonne proceeded to the last place to which it might be imagined that the steps of the former would be voluntarily directed, namely, to the Police Office, where he had been charged, and from whence he had been committed. There he told Gonne to remain at the exterior door; and as the Office was about to be closed for the day, he desired him to ask the magistrate when he came out, what was the exact time. Gonne complied with this direction, and His Worship readily, but rather too hastily, produced a watch. No sooner was it displayed than its appearance elicited the most disagreeable oath ever sworn before the "worthy justice," for Gonne instantly explained, "By G——! that's my watch."
Gonne obtained his watch, and was with great difficulty persuaded to refrain from bringing the transaction under the notice of the Executive. The system by which the magistrate managed occasionally to possess himself of a valuable watch or some other costly article, consisted in having two or three drawers wherein to keep the property found with highwaymen or thieves. If the prosecutor identified the delinquent, he was then shown the right drawer; but if he could not swear to the depredator, the wrong drawer was opened.
The magistrate to whom this narrative refers, was dismissed in a short time after, for attempting to embezzle fifty pounds. I wish, for the honor of the profession of which I am proud to be a member, to state that he was not a barrister. Flood was afterwards for many years the marker of a racket court at Tottenham Court Road, London. He judiciously and wittily changed his name to Waters.
FOOTNOTE:
[4] The proprietor of this tent was a person named Cheevers. Having received an intimation, a few days before the fair, that the Lord Lieutenant would, with a select party, dine in his tent, he had it constructed with a lofting or first-floor, and a flight of steps, by which the Viceregal party ascended to their repast. On the succeeding days, whilst the fair lasted, the elevated apartment which had been honored by his Excellency was crowded to excess, and Cheevers received an ample remuneration for his very original project.
CHAPTER VIII. THE MAJOR.
I shall now advert to another Police magistrate whose name I need not refrain from mentioning, inasmuch as although his unpopularity was unparalleled, his name has never been associated with any imputation of a dishonourable or debasing tendency, such as was manifested in reference to Gonne's watch. Henry Charles Sirr was for many years Town-Major of Dublin; and through the insurrection of 1798, and during the outbreak of 1803, he was peculiarly energetic and most unscrupulous in the exercise of his powers as a magistrate of Police, in which capacity he continued until his death in 1841. He was detested by all those to whose opinions he was opposed, and whose designs and acts he was engaged in repressing or punishing. He was not respected by those of a contrary tendency; for he unnecessarily and continually engaged personally in enquiries, searches, and arrests, which a proper appreciation of his magisterial position would have induced him to leave to his subordinates. He was accustomed, during the insurrectionary times, to traverse the streets of Dublin or the suburbs, with some special attendants following at a short distance. He carried pistols, and was also provided with a short heavy bludgeon. If a suspicion crossed his mind in reference to any person whom he casually met, his usual practice was to knock the individual down, and then to ascertain if he had secured the right man. He was of considerable although indirect advantage to his colleagues and successor; for, during his official career, the acts of his colleagues, if of an unpopular tendency, were attributed to