After the seizure of the Fenian newspaper, the Irish People, in the summer of 1865, the British Government made great efforts to capture a number of the leading members of the “brotherhood,” which had caused them so much trouble in Ireland. Among those who were thus “wanted,” there was nobody whose presence in a court of justice was felt to be more desirable than Mr. James Stephens, alias Power, the chief centre, and indeed, prime mover of Fenianism. The available detective force of the three kingdoms were in active pursuit, and spies and informers were being anxiously interrogated concerning the antecedents and personal habits of their enterprising enemy. Wonderful were the tales told to the authorities of this Mr. Stephens. He had for years, ever since 1848, it was said, been carefully educating the Irish peasantry in the art and mystery of treason, having travelled for the purpose in all sorts of disguises through every town and hamlet of the country. At one time he would be met with in the dress of a parish priest; then he would hobble past police barracks on crutches; again, he would assume the character of a rollicking farm servant on his way to a country fair, and so on, ad infinitum. Whether all or any of these tales were true or not, it is certain that, by some means or other, the organization which the Government was determined to put down was not only widely spread but continually increasing, and had members in every corner of the land; and although the police felt quite certain that James Stephens had not left the country or ceased from his labours, he somehow or other did for months manage to baffle his innumerable pursuers.

The Government knew the man’s history. He had been connected with the abortive attempts at insurrection with Smith O’Brien in 1848; was present at the “battle” in the cabbage garden, and had escaped to the Continent, where he had for a year or two made a precarious living as a teacher of English and drawing. In Paris he had, with two friends, John O’Mahoney and Michael Doheny, invented and drawn up the plans for the conspiracy of which the world has since heard so much. The organization was to be called the “Fenian Brotherhood,” after the Fenians, a semi-mystical body of militia, celebrated for its deeds of chivalry and prowess in ancient Irish history. Among other modest achievements set down to the credit of these old warriors, in ballads still sung in the wilds of Connemara and Mayo, it is recorded that each of them singly was in the habit of conquering any nine men who had the temerity to engage with him in mortal combat; in fact, it appears not to have been allowed by the rules of the order for a private in that distinguished corps to fight less than nine ordinary mortals, save under exceptionally provoking circumstances. In fixing upon the title, “Fenian,” therefore, the conspirators showed an intimate knowledge of the weakness of thousands of their poorer fellow-countrymen, who are to this day as proud of the doings of the old Fenian heroes, as English schoolboys are of the self-reliance and wonderful performances of Robinson Crusoe.

The cleverest part of the programme, however, was that by which it was determined to carry on the organization simultaneously in Ireland and America. Two of the sedition farmers were to proceed to the United States, and one to his native land; so that as fast as the treason plants were sufficiently grown in the one country to bear transplantation to the soil of the other, an experienced nurseryman might be on the spot to receive them. Of course, the post of honour and danger being the Irish one, there was a friendly contest in which each of the conspirators endeavoured to secure it for himself. Each urged his claims, but as no one would yield to the others, it was decided to toss for it with a golden coin, for in such a sacred cause it was unanimously agreed that neither silver or bronze was pure enough for use. This decision caused some little delay, owing to the fact that among the three original members of the brotherhood there did not happen to be as much as five and fourpence; and as there is no French gold coin of less value, the settlement of the momentous question was deferred. Mr. Stephens soon after this obtaining some money from one of his pupils, won the toss, and after seeing his friends off for New York, went to Ireland, where, obtaining a living, first in a situation as teacher, and afterwards as a commercial traveller, he devoted himself to his enterprise with a zeal and devotion which as loyal citizens we must regret were not applied in a worthier cause.

Among his other studies, Mr. Stephens had with much foresight included the internal economy of the gaols of his native land. It was said, and probably with some truth, that under various pretences he had made himself tolerably well acquainted with the arrangements for the detention of prisoners in most of the leading strongholds of the country. He had evidently become imbued with the belief that the battle of Irish liberty would have to be fought out in Her Majesty’s gaols, and the sequel has proved the soundness of his conclusion. This was the man whom the Government was so desirous of capturing all through the summer and autumn of 1865.

Towards the end of July, 1865, a gentleman, named Herbert, with his wife and daughter, went to reside in a handsome residence, called Fairfield House, at the corner of Newbridge Avenue, Sandy Mount, Dublin. The arrival of the family was hailed with much satisfaction among the tradesmen of the neighbourhood; for the new comers evidently had not only expensive tastes, but what was more important, plenty of money to gratify them. Mr. and Mrs. Herbert laid out considerable sums, not only in the embellishment and furnishing of Fairfield House, but in the adornment of the grounds which were rather extensive; and although it was observed that they kept very little company, yet, as they always paid punctually for what they had, they soon became much respected in the neighbourhood. The gentleman seldom went out and was therefore but little known; but Mrs. Herbert, from her kindly manner and frequent purchases, was a general favourite with the shopkeepers. So this quiet household pursued the even tenor of its way until one dark winter’s morning, when an accident happened to them, which as it has an immediate bearing upon our narrative, we shall now relate.

Between five and six o’clock, on the 11th of November, a body of about thirty well-armed policemen surrounded Mr. and Mrs. Herbert’s premises, and three inspectors with cocked pistols in their hands scaled the wall and effected an entrance. Of course, the peaceable inhabitants of the house were all wrapped in slumber, from which Mr. Herbert was rudely awakened by a loud knocking at his bedroom door.

“Who is there, and what is the matter?” were the questions which that gentleman naturally put to his disturbers, who, commencing to break in the door, replied as follows:

“Come, Mr. Stephens, open the door, we know you, and resistance is perfectly useless.” To which summons Mr. Herbert, alias Power, alias Stephens, responded by opening the door and letting his captors in. One of the inspectors stayed with Mr. Stephens while he dressed, and the others searched the house, where, in an adjoining bedroom they found two gentlemen in bed together, and one lying on a mattress on the floor. These were Messrs. Brophy, Duffy, and Kickham, who were immediately arrested upon the same charge as Stephens. In the other parts of the house provisions enough to last the inmates six months, a quantity of arms, and nearly £2000 in gold and cheques were found; one draft recently received from New York being drawn in favour of a “Mr. Hooper,” for no less a sum than £1525 8s. 6d.

Mrs. Stephens had been tracked by female detectives during one of her numerous shopping excursions, and thus the discovery of her husband’s whereabouts had been effected. Without the least trouble the whole party were conveyed to a police court, and after several preliminary examinations were committed to Richmond Bridewell, to take their trial before a Special Commission convened by Government for the purpose.

It was observed that Mr. Stephens bore himself with great composure during his examination. Upon being called upon to make a defence, he handed in a written protest as follows:

“I deliberately and conscientiously repudiate the existence of British law in Ireland. I despise and defy any punishment it may inflict upon me.

(Signed)
“James Stephens.”

During the proceedings his cool and even defiant manner were calculated to impress the by-standers with the belief that he was an attorney watching a case, rather than a prisoner expecting the loss of his liberty, and perhaps life. He seemed fully conscious of the goodness of his cause and his superior ability, and appeared to feel a sovereign contempt for “the other side.” He is described as being a “smart” looking man, very neatly dressed, rather below the middle stature, with smooth cheeks, a fair complexion, a fine large auburn beard, and hair of light brown colour curling round the back of the head, the front and top of which was entirely bald, and showed a very good development of the intellectual and moral faculties, “firmness” being remarkably large. The eyes small, lively, and restless. Temperament evidently sanguine and nervous, indicating quickness of perception, energy, and determination. He spoke fluently and correctly, with a slight Yankee accent (acquired during his frequent visits to America which he had made to report progress to his friends there). His manners were described as being gentlemanly, savouring of a certain degree of abruptness and impatience. This is the description which by general testimony applied to one who was certainly the ablest man ever before the public in connection with the Fenian conspiracy. As we have said before, the prisoners were kept for safety in the Richmond Bridewell, one of the strongest prisons in Ireland.

A portion of the gaol was selected which could not be approached without passing through a number of doors composed of iron, and double locked. The cell occupied by Stephens was in the corridor leading to the eastern wing of the building, and adjoining the chapel where he was in the habit of attending mass. His cell door was composed of strong hammered iron, and secured, by a massive stock-lock and a huge padlock, to a staple and thick swinging bar. The corridor on which the cell door opened was guarded by another ponderous iron door of great strength and thickness, and also double locked. But these were only the commencement of the obstacles which would prevent escape by the doors, and escape from the windows was absolutely impossible. No persons were permitted to see the Fenian prisoners save the officials of the prison and the prisoners’ legal advisers; and it is stated that Stephens only saw a legal gentlemen once, and that for a short time since his committal. The instructions of the governor of the gaol to the officials under his command were most stringent, and were apparently most strictly carried out; and with the view of having a sufficient force on the premises, in case it should be required, some of the metropolitan police were kept constantly on duty in one of the outer corridors of the prison. All communications to the prisoners were opened and read before they were delivered, and also all letters written from them to their acquaintance.

Every article of food, clothing, etc., brought in was closely scrutinized, and in fact, everything which foresight and precaution could suggest was adopted, and a perfect control kept over any communication with the prisoners’ friends outside.

At ten o’clock on a certain Thursday night, when the warders made their last rounds, the cell in which James Stephens was confined was locked. The keys had been at five o’clock duly handed over to the governor, who had had them deposited in their proper order in the case in his office.

The watchman for the night was Daniel Byrne, who went on duty at ten o’clock; and nothing occurred to disturb the ordinary routine of the prison until a quarter to four the following morning, when Byrne gave an alarm that he had discovered two tables placed one above the other, near the south-western wall adjoining the governor’s garden. Mr. Philpots, the deputy-governor and manager, and the gate warder, went quickly to the place and found the two tables to be as Byrne had described them. These tables belonged to the lunatic dining-hall and had to be brought a long distance; but strange to say, there were no footprints on the upper table, which there would have been if it had been stood upon by any person who had walked through the open passages which were muddy, as torrents of rain were falling. The wall bore no marks whatever of persons having escaped by climbing over it. The night was particularly dark and tempestuous.

When the governor and his assistants went to the section of the prison in which Stephens had been confined, they found the doors of the corridor open and also the door of his cell. His bed looked as if he had not recently slept in it, and as if he had only rolled himself up in a railway rug (found on the floor), and had waited for his deliverance.

A master key, quite bright, as if only recently made, was found in the lock of the corridor door.

Byrne was accused of being an accomplice; and he certainly was a very unfit person for so responsible a trust, seeing that he had been one of the Irish legion at Castelfidardo, and was believed to be a captain in the Fenian conspiracy. The patronage of the gaol appeared to be vested in a body closely connected with the Dublin corporation. It is further alleged that there were only three policemen employed in the prison, and that while the barracks of Dublin were full of troops, there was no guard to protect a building in which so many prisoners charged with such serious offences were confined. There was a theory, which however was not believed by the police, that Stephens was conveyed at once on board a Cunard steamer, on his way to America, to relate to his brethren there an account of the most brilliant achievement of the militant branch of the order resident in Ireland.

As may be imagined, the escape caused immense excitement all over the three kingdoms. Indignant leading articles appeared in the chief English newspapers, blaming the police, Government, and everybody concerned in what was felt to be a most disastrous business.

The Lord Lieutenant immediately caused the following proclamation to be issued.

“A PROCLAMATION.”

“Wodehouse.

“Whereas, James Stephens, has been an acting member of a treasonable conspiracy against the Queen’s authority in Ireland, and has this morning escaped from the Richmond prison:

“Now, we being determined to bring the said James Stephens to justice, do hereby offer a reward of £1000 to any person or persons who shall give such information as shall lead to the arrest of the said James Stephens.

“And we do hereby offer a further reward of £300 to any person or persons who shall give such information as shall lead to the arrest of any one whomsoever who has knowingly harboured, or received, or concealed, or assisted, or aided in any way whatsoever in his escape from arrest the said James Stephens.

“And we do also hereby offer a free pardon, in addition to the above-mentioned reward, to any person or persons concerned in the escape of the said James Stephens, who shall give such information as shall lead to his arrest as aforesaid.

“Given at Her Majesty’s Castle of Dublin, this 24th day of November, 1865.

“By his Excellency’s command,
“Thomas A. Larcom.”