...continued... Irish Catholic Chronicle And People's News of the Week Dublin, Ireland Saturday, 30 November 1867 NIGHT - THE STREETS There is little to add respecting the prison life of the condemned. Clinging to hope at first, they believed for some days after sentence was passed that they would not be hanged. The assurances which they received from without, however, dispelled this feeling a few days ago, and since Wednesday the men have been fully resigned to their fate. The parting interviews of Allen and Larkin with their friends took place on Friday; and after their final severance from earthly ties, the doomed men devoted themselves with increased fervour to their religious duties. They were locked up at the usual hour - about half-past six o'clock. Strange as it may appear; the three men, standing on the brink of the grave, about to suffer an ignominious death, slept as soundly as had been their wont. At a quarter to five o'clock on Saturday morning, Mr. Holt, the warder in charge, went to their cells and awoke them. The priests in attendance, the Rev. Canon Cantwell and the Rev. Fathers Quick and Gadd, celebrated mass at half-past five, and administered the holy communion. After partaking of the sacred rite, the convicts spent their time in prayer until nearly seven o'clock, when they breakfasted. The last preparations were then begun. At twelve minutes to eight o'clock, the executioner and his assistant, Armstrong, were introduced into the cell in which the convicts were placed, and the process of pinioning their arms was gone through. The priests stood by the side of the unhappy men, administering the consolations of religion, and exhorting them to firmness to meet the last dread ordeal. The convicts at this time manifested a remarkable fortitude. Not one of them flinched in the least. They had severally expressed an intention to address the crowd from the scaffold, but at the urgent entreaty of the priests they abandoned that intention. At a quarter to eight o'clock the interior court of the gaol presented a strange and striking spectacle. Behind the wall in New Bailey-street was erected the long staircase leading to the scaffold, and by the side were platforms for the tise of the military. The fog was so dense that objects could be but faintly distinguished at a distance of thirty yards. Suddenly the worlds of military command were heard and a company of the 72nd Highlanders marched round the Roundhouse and took up a position in line of the foot of the staircase. Simultaneously small detachments of the same regiment ascended to the platform, and crouched there, with their loaded rifles slightly projecting over the prison wall. At almost the same moment the heads of a line of soldiers arose above the parapet of the railway viaduct. A line of warders was formed in the gaol court. The sentries on duty ceased their walk; magistrates and reporters stood aside, and a dead silence prevailed for a few moments, as a signal was given from the corner of the Roundhouse. At three minutes past eight o'clock the solemn voice of a minister repeating the litany of the Roman Catholic Church was heard; and the head of the procession became visible through a thick fog, about thirty yards from the foot of the staircase. The Rev. Cantwell walked first, by the side of Allen. The convict was deadly pale; his eyes wandered alternately from the priest to the individuals standing round and then he uplifted his gaze in a vain endeavour to pierce the dense canopy which hung above him. He walked with a tolerably steady step, and uttered the response, "Lord, have mercy upon us." in a firm voice. As he ascended the staircase he seemed to summon all his courage, and he succeeded so far as to be able to confront the crowd with an unshrinking countenance. Next to him came Larkin, in whose appearance confinement and anxiety of mind had wrought a striking change. He walked with difficulty and required the support of the warders as he mounted the staircase. He seemed to join mechanically in the responses; and as he neared the head of the stirs he gave one hasty glance at the black beams overhead and seemed about to faint. Gould was the last, and he met hi fate firmly. Joining in the responses with a steady voice, and keeping his eyes upward, after one glance at the group assembled below, he mounted the steps without hesitation and took his place upon the drop. ...to be continued... Cathy Joynt Labath Ireland Old News http://www.IrelandOldNews.com/