Laurence M. Geary

(Dept of History, Australian Nat. University)
In Cork Hist, & Arch, Jn., xciii, no.252 (1988), pp 93-103.
Reproduced by kind permission of Cork Hist., & Arch., Society.

INTRODUCTION
John Mandeville was born at Carrick-on-Suir on 24 June 1849. He was a freeholder, farming 100 Irish acres at Clonkilla, about a mile outside Mitchelstown, County Cork. Mandeville was a nephew of John O'Mahony, the noted Fenian leader, and a confidant and friend of William O'Brien, the sitting nationalist member for North-East Cork. He was chairman of the Mitchelstown board of guardians and a director of the Fermoy and Mitchelstown Light Railway Company. He was, in addition, the leader of the Plan of Campaign on the Countess of Kingston's heavily mortgaged 25,000 acre estate.

The Kingston tenants adopted the Plan on 11 December 1886.¹ By mid-January 1887, writs and civil bill decrees had been served on a large number of them. Circumstances led to the postponement of evictions for several months, but by the beginning of August 1887 the situation had become critical. On 9 and 11 August, William O'Brien and John Mandeville urged the Kingston tenants to resist any attempts by the sheriff and the bailiffs to evict them from their homes. O'Brien told them that they would be 'justified before God and man in resisting this outrage and defending [their] homes against these assassins'. He urged his Mitchelstown listeners to set the estate in a blaze about Lady Kingston's ears should she proceed with evictions.² A less trenchant Mandeville encouraged a similar resistance:
Now I ask every man who has a house to defend to get his house in order; at all events, not to be caught by the false prophets who say evictions will not take place. Remember what I tell you . . . Evictions will take place if they see that there is a way for evictions to be carried on, and the only way to prevent them is for you to be prepared to defend your homes.

By focusing attention on the Kingston estate, Mandeville and O'Brien succeeded in having the evictions postponed but, in doing so, they became the first victims of the Criminal Law and Procedure (Ireland) Act, 1887, which had become law on 19 July. They were summoned to appear before the magistrates at Mitchelstown on 9 September 1887 on a charge of inciting to resist evictions.

Their failure to attend resulted in warrants being issued against them. The fugitives were duly arrested and brought to trial at Mitchelstown in late September. Mandeville was sentenced to two months imprisonment and O'Brien to three, sentences which were upheld on appeal at Middleton on 31 October. The prisoners were immediately taken to Cork county gaol from where, early on the morning of 2 November, they were transferred to Tullamore.

Mandeville and O'Brien regarded themselves as political prisoners and refused to comply with certain prison regulations which they considered degrading. They were punished repeatedly as a result, Mandeville on no fewer than seven occasions. Irish nationalists and English liberals blamed his death, some six months after his release, on his prison treatment, an accusation which counsel for the Irish General Prisons Board was at pains to rebut during the course of the inquest. The jury members were in no doubt. On 28 July 1888, after an eleven day inquiry, they took a mere thirty-five minutes to return their verdict:

We find that John Mandeville died on 8 July of diffuse cellular inflammation of the throat as defined by the doctors, brought about by the brutal and unjustifiable treatment he received in Tullamore gaol.⁴

John Mandeville and Mary O'Geran were married in 1880. After his death, she returned to live in her father's house where she remained until her own death in 1935. Mary's account of her husband's prison treatment, which was written in 1888, is based on John's recollections, as well as her own, on newspaper reports and on a personal diary which she kept intermittently between 24 November and 31 December 1887. The original is in the William O'Brien Papers, University College, Cork. For the sake of clarity I have indicated certain omissions. Otherwise, I have thought it advisable not to alter the spelling, punctuation or sense of the text. The transcript appears by kind permission of the librarian, University College, Cork.

TEXT

Soon after I parted from my husband at Middleton, he & Mr. O'Brien were placed in a brougham & driven to Cork guarded by hussars. On their arrival there, they were not placed in the regular prison cells that night, but what are called probationary cells, & got bread & milk for their supper. The next day (November 1st) the Dr ordered John a flannel as he had forgotten his own in the hurry of starting for Middleton on the previous day. That night the deputy govenor & a party of warders entered John's cell & removed his clothes which were under him in bed and left a prison suit which had been made expressily for him, as they were none large enough to fit him. He contented himself on this occasion with a verbal protest, as he told Mr. OBrien he intended doing, though he was resolved neither to associate with criminals nor to clean out his cell, both of which resolutions he subsequently carried out. John did not sleep that night, in the disturbance at Middleton, he pushed back from Mr. OBrien, a detective who always follows Captain Plunkett, the man jumped upon John's foot, bursting the boot and breaking his toe, which pained him much in Cork, but doubly so at Tullamore owing to the frost. John never told the Dr when in prison of his toe; nor did he blame the man, saying to me that he looked upon it, just as he would, upon a blow received in a boxing match. I only mention it to show how patient John naturally was & that he never complained except when as, he himself thought, he was being savagely ill-treated.

About three o'clock pm ⁵ the deputy governor returned to his cell & desired him to get up adding 'we have brought you back your own clothes Mr. Mandeville'. He put them on & was brought on the corridor where he met Mr. OBrien it was bitterly cold & dark, they each got a mug of tea & some white bread. John told me devoted tea-drinker as he was (he took it four times a day) it was so horrible he could not swallow it neither could he eat his bread. They were then placed in a brougham & driven to the railway station where there was a special train in readiness to convey them to Tullamore, they & their guard of police under the command of a D. Inspector got into a first class carriage Mr. OBrien and John being in the centre. The cold was so intense that his teeth were chattering & felt it the more severely, as he had not been allowed to bring his flannels with him from Cork. The blinds were drawn down in the carriage, but OBrien said they were being taken to Tullamore which was one of the worst prisons in Ireland John replied he thought it very probable, as there they would be entirely among strangers, totally indifferent to them, & to what might befal them while in prison.

On their arrival at Tullamore, they were driven from the station to the jail & it cheered my husband greatly to see there a district inspector whom he had known at Mitchelstown & who had always had permission to shoot & fish at Clonkilla; he at once spoke to John in a very friendly manner. On entering their cells the Doctor ⁶ came to inspect them & said 'You need not be afraid, we are very kind to our prisoners at Tullamore.' John laughed & replied, 'Then you are greatly wronged for you have got the D-S bad name here.'

The next day he told the govenor, that he objected, as he was only a political prisoner, & not a criminal, to associate with convicts, to clean out his cell, or to wear prison clothes; to this the latter made no response; but he & Mr. OBrien were allowed to exercise together.

On November 4 Captain Fetherstonhaugh went to Dublin and returned next day on November 5th John was reported to him by the chief warder ⁷ for refusing to wear prison dress & was sentenced to twenty-four hours bread & water; the allowance of bread being one lb of brown bread in 24 hours, the supply of cold water as John always laughingly remarked unlimited. The result of this treatment on John & Mr. OBrien was that they both got an attack of diarrhoea; the latter was so weak that he fainted in his cell & had subsequently to be removed to hospital.

I cannot conceive how any doctor could allow this cold diet in severe winter weather, unless the object was, permanently to destroy his health. John was confined in a flagged cell & whether it was this or the damp air of Tullamore that caused it but his throat became very sore & he was placed under medical care. 'While under treatment he was sent for by the governor on November 14th & sentenced to three days' bread & water for again refusing to don prison garb. His surprise and indignation was great, he was so totally unfit for it and he expressed this feeling to the govenor who replied 'What can I do, Mr. Mandeville the doctor has certified you as fit for punishment'. 'I was so disgusted with the Dr,' continued John, that I said to the governor, 'Is it that fellow, why his greatest enemy could not desire worse than that he should take one of his own prescriptions; the result would be that the next thing we should hear of would be a coroner's inquest on his body.' At this Captain Featherstonhaugh smiled, & John was removed to his own cell to undergo the sentence; I quote here his own description of his sufferings in a letter written but never forwarded to Mr. Hallifax until after his death. 'After being fourteen hours on punishment dietary I got a violent attack of diarrhoea, I complained to the doctor that day. Yet as some prison test unnecessary to mention, did not satisfy him I was kept on punishment for thirty hours longer; on this occasion I remained twenty-four hours without taking any food, as the dry bread hurt my throat, & I feared to use water to moisten the food, knowing from former experience its effects . . . ' 'However I got so very ill & weak & the prison physician's test having been satisfied I was allowed off all punishment on the evening of the third day and put under medical treatment.'

In speaking to me in that perfect confidence which existed between us John gave me a pathetic description of his own sufferings during those weary hours. A fellow political prisoner who was engaged in sack-making (A Tang ⁸ prisoner John called him) gave him a rope which he tied round his waist; & as the pangs of hunger grew worse, he tightened the rope. The plank bed is removed from a prisoner's cell, when he is on bread & water so that hard as it is he cannot rest upon it, but John became so weak & exhausted that he threw himself down on the flagged floor and his mind wandered; he fancied he was a boy once more lying in the heather on the side of Sliebhnamon Mountain, he heard music & thought he was assisting at the crucifixion & then that faded away & there were voices in the air around him & he thought I was lying dead beside him 'I can never suffer more than I did then Mary', continued John, 'always feeling with my hand for your cold face, heart-broken with grief, never able to touch you, though I knew you were close beside me & then suddenly I regained consciousness & knowing what had happened to me, I knelt down & I prayed to God that he would rather let me die than go mad.' John complained bitterly to me that though Dr Moorhead ⁹ (JP for the King's County) called attention to how seriously ill he was, Dr Ridley seemed anxious to prove how much punishment he could make him stand. At last he perceived he could bear no more. (My husband thought himself he was dying & said that at last the doctor seemed very frightened at his condition) and took him off punishment diet 'but he was such a curious man' continued John, 'I never could understand him, though he was so uneasy about my health, that after this he visited me twice a day for some time, ordered medicine for my diarrhoea & a gargle for my throat which was very painful; he never made the slightest change in my food, except substituting white bread for brown & though knowing the exhausted state I was in & the disease from which I suffered he never ordered me as much as a cup of milk. The first day after this that I went out to exercise I was so weak that when I had taken a couple of rounds of the ring, I asked permission to retire to my cell; & for fully a week I spent the greater part of the time lying on the plank bed too exhausted to move'. One little incident in connection with this punishment I think does equal credit to both friends. Canon McAlroy ¹⁰ told Mr. OBrien who was in hospital that John was on bread & water; the former immediately refused to take the hospital fare & returned to the ordinary prison food saying whenever John was punished he would do the same. The result was that he became quite ill & John on hearing it implored of Canon McAlroy the govenor and warders never to let Mr. OBrien know. Consequently the latter was completely ignorant as to his prison treatment. John remarked to me 'What was the use of two of us suffering; I know for my part I would as willingly do OBrien's punishment for him as I would yours if you were in prison with me. It was a great comfort to me to feel that neither you, my poor mother, or OBrien knew what I was enduring, though I never complained no official at Tullamore can ever say I whined; they always told me I was the jolliest prisoner who entered that jail. I never objected to food or otherwise always saying one dish of prison food was as good as another; except when I felt my future health has been wantonly injured (there is no doubt, they made a dead set on me at Tullamore) not for my own sake, a man can die but once, but for your sake knowing that to you & my own family my life was of consequence.

November 24th. The most miserable day, I have ever spent so filled with indignation anxiety on John's behalf. On Tuesday night seven warders entered his cell, while he was asleep, seized him, tore off his clothes & left him in a state of perfect nudity. A convict suit of blue was then thrust into his cell. John asked the governor who was standing by if he expected to live without clothes until as 'You have clothes,' he replied pointing to the prison garb, John said he would never put them on; they then left his cell. Dr Moorhead who visited the prison during the day found John with nothing on but a sheet & quilt, his feet bare on a flagged floor walking up & down in a frightfully excited state I cannot bear to think of his sufferings; the cold & frost is so intense here, that though I have a fire in my bedroom day & night I cannot sleep, what must it be in a gloomy prison cell? I know too that John will be very anxious about me, lest I may fret so I have written to *Canon McAlroy & Mr. Egan begging of them to tell John, that he is not to think of me, but to do exactly what he thinks best but that as far as I am concerned I hoped he would never either put on the garb of a convict or associate with thieves.

*It is but right to state here that Canon McAlroy never conveyed a letter from my husband to me, or from me to him.

November 25th. It seems on yesterday, the governor & the warders came up to John's cell & removing with brute force the sheet and quilt, left him with nothing on but a towel tied round his waist - even this they threatened to remove in ten minutes. Decency compelled him to put on the prison clothes, as he could not remain absolutely naked.

November 27th. The result of the worry & anxiety is that I was ill all yesterday. Mr. Egan wrote such a kind note expressing his own & his wife's sympathy & saying 'notwithstanding the fearful barbarities to which Mr. Mandeville has been subjected, he bears up well'. Heard from Carrick¹¹ Mrs. Mandeville¹² most indignant at John's treatment, Dick says his Grandmother repeats what would I not give to have been there, with a blackthorn for my poor boy to defend himself.

November 29th. John refuses to clean out his cell or associate with criminals; for the former offense he has again been sentenced to 24 hours bread & water though suffering from rheumatism of which he complained to the prison doctor who did not prescribe for him. He is also confined to his cell, which Dr Moorhead says is close, stuffy and offensive-smelling, and in his reports he remarks 'A continuance of such treatment would break down the constitution of the strongest man & would probably develop fever of the most malignant type. In Mr Mandeville's case such a state of things calls for immediate remedy.' Mr Harding and Mr Connolly both visited the prisoners; the former found John swinging his stool round his head; exercising just as he told me he would.

Extracts from John's letter

Dearest Mary
I fear you are fretting about me, though the reality is bad enough. I believe it is in the Doctor's power to mitigate the severities of prison discipline; but the man here is either a cowardly creature afraid to lose his post or he is a sly savage who pretends sympathy with us but acts differently. They have changed some of the Catholic warders & have filled up their places with heretics or unbelievers in the hopes of getting convenient tools -
The Doctor has just been to visit me & says he has been the means of saving me from a lot of punishment etc. Perhaps he has & that I may have wronged him I think he might have put me into hospital. As I live in open defiance of prison rules the governor must punish me when the Dr certifies that I am able to stand it, so that the Medical Officer is the man who is chiefly responsible. I may not be able to write again before Xmas Day as I cannot foresee what changes may take place so Good bye and wishing you many happy Christmases and birthdays.
Yr fond husband
John Mandeville

November 30th. Canon McAlroy wrote me he had been absent from the prison for a days; he said that I could not possibly be prouder of John, than he is of me; that he is now off punishment & he (Canon McAlroy) hope it will never again be inflicted.
Dr Moorhead, found John in his cell, chilled from the effects of the bread and water, *with a distinct tremor in both hands, & that he has now been confined for four days to his cell without either fresh air or exercise

* So much for Dr Barr's¹³ statement that he had none.

December 1st. John has achieved a great triumph one which I know, to his brave spirit, will make up for all his sufferings - the governor has received orders to allow all the political prisoners to exercise by themselves & John got two hours in the open air yesterday

December 4th. I hear John has no more ardent sympathizers than the inhabitants of the Mitchelstown Workhouse & that they have felt his sufferings greatly - though indeed the kindness & sympathy expressed on all sides is wonderful. I am carefully preserving all the letters to show them to John on his release.

On Xmas morning John to his great pleasure received by post an address from the inmates not the officials of the Mitchelstown Workhouse - it was non-political but it told him how rejoiced they were at his liberation & that many was the prayer offered up for their kind and generous Chairman.

December 10th. John still suffering from rheumatism. Our neighbours very kindly assembled at Clonkilla & did all the necessary farm work.

December 13th. John still complains rheumatism & of the efforts made to force him to clean out his cell Dr Moorhead has beer to visit him, only for him Canon McAlroy & Mr. Egan (while the latter was permitted to see the prisoners) he and Mr. OBrien would be perfectly friendless.

December 14th. The newspaper reports say John's appetite is failing & that he is looking very badly.

December 19th. Dr Moorhead looks upon John's treatment as simply barbarous. John has been to Confession and Holy Communion, he said to me on the eve of the Middleton trial, he intended taking advantage of having so much leisure to make a general confession of his whole life.

Went to see A - she pointed out to me how good comes out of evil, though John suffers so much at Tullamore, yet it has given him time to think of his soul. I agreed with her & said it had done more, for fond as I am of John, I never realized until now, all that he is to me, friend & companion as well as husband.

December 20th. Extracts from John's last letter

Dearest Mary
This paper got soiled as I had to put it in a dirty place in order to keep it safe from the eyes of a warder I have just got the chance of dropping you a line to say I have only five days more to give here. Remember I expect a good long letter from you on Xmas Morning when I get out.

I understand there will be a demonstration here I hope I won't be expected to speak as I feel shy & timid being kept in retreat so long. The priests are very kind & attentive to me. I have been to confession and Holy Communion so that your mother cannot have the satisfaction of saying I did nothing good while I was in prison. I do not think they will put me on any more punishment as it has no effect on me, as far as getting me to do anything which they require. I do not think the govenor is a bad fellow at heart. I do not care about the doctor and have refused to let him examine me or to take any of his prescriptions. I saw QBrien in chapel he looks very badly I got no chance of speaking to him. His sentence expires on January 22nd. There have been no new Crimes Act prisoners sent here; there are nine Westmeath men, besides Hadyn ¹⁴ T D Sullivan,¹⁵ & OBrien I exercise with these, but Hadyn & OBrien are in hospital & T D Sullivan is what is called a first class misdemeanant & has quarters to himself I do not quite know where. I hope all are well, wish everyone a happy Xmas for me. Write & let me know where I am to meet you as well as any local matter that may be useful to me. I have no envelope.
Yr fond husband
John Mandeville.

On yesterday December 20th Mr. Smith RM was brought in to sentence John to 48 hours bread and water in a dark cell. I cannot forget Mr. Arthur O'Connor's description of his seeing one in some English prison & how he thought it would prove fatal to many men s reasons. From November I have not known a happy moment day or night.

December 23rd. Thank God John has only two days to pass at Tullamore; he is now off punishment diet. Mr. Murphy M.P ¹⁶ who saw him while in the punishment cell remarked how blue his lips were. A symptom I don't like.

I have sent off his portmanteau to-day to the care of Canon McAlroy & written him a good long letter. I have one glorious item of news for him - He & Mr. OBrien were sent to prison for advising Lady Kingston's tenants to defend their homes until the Land Act passed, when they could go in to court and would get the 20 per cent reduction they demanded under the Plan of Campaign. They did so & this week a notoriously Conservative Commission have given them 22½ per cent reduction.

John was released unexpectedly on Xmas Eve (evidently with a view to prevent demonstrations along the line) I got a telegram from Portarlington to meet John at Knocklong Station. I started immediately; he had arrived before I reached it but he waited for me.

I was horrified when I saw him, he has grown very thin the hair in the front of his head quite white, though as thick & curly as ever, his lips so blue that I remarked them immediately; he said Mr. Murphy M.P. who visited him a few days before asked him if they were always that color and he replied 'No'.

I never saw anything like the enthusiasm of his reception bonefires all along the mountain side as far as the eye could reach, & every farmhouse we passed (it was quite dark on the home journey) the people came out with lighted candles & cheered. John said to me 'Is it not a great reward for doing one's duty.' When we got to Mitchelstown the crowd was dense, we went direct to Aherne's Hotel, where John addressed them for a few minutes. He said his joy was saddened by the thought of his beloved leader lying in his lonely cell in Tullamore; that he himself was willing if necessary to go to the scaffold to save the Kingston tenants from eviction.

Later on we returned to Clonkilla, John was weary & worn out, but we felt it such great happiness to be together again. Rover came to receive John with a green ribbon tied round his neck.

December 26th. Mr. McCleod, a representative of the Scotch Crofters breakfasted here on Xmas Morning the tremor in John's hands was so great that he could hardly carve. We dined at Broomhill, John could not take any Xmas fare (not even a scrap of pudding for good luck) nothing but a little roast mutton. Was so tired we returned immediately after dinner to Clonkilla. My father thinks John very weak & that if he had got a third month, he would not have lived to come home.

To-day with the greatest difficulty he wrote to Canon McAlroy, Dr Moorhead & Mr. Egan; his eyes are very sore, he blames the white walls & says Dr Moorhead ordered him colored glasses of course he never got them I have offered to save his eyes by writing a number of notes for him which I did he signing them.

To show the effect of the great strain on his mind, I must state that in writing, he could not put two sentences in connection, and he forgot to spell so simple a word as 'bed' Another little incident will show how thin he had become, we always had great difficulty in getting collars his size, I had ordered some new ones, instead of 18 inch; 17 ½ were sent they were too large & he had to get 17 inch collars. He never again in this life, wore an 18 inch collar which had been his size.

December 31st. To-morrow, the New Year commences God grant it may be a bright & prosperous one for us. I asked John to pray that it may be so; he refused saying, such things should be left in the hands of God, to give or not, as He sees fit; but that he would ask Him to spare me to him, during the coming year.
End of my diary
1888

We were both absent from home during a greater part of January. Sometime I think about the first week or so John & I consulted Dr Aherne of Kilworth about his eyes, the latter making a most careful examination of them. He ordered smoked glasses & said in time they would recover. Dr Ahearne distinctly remembers calling my attention to three facts, viz first the exhausted state of John's constitution & that he had reduced considerably in weight since he had last seen him, just before his imprisonment, secondly that the state of his eyes was entirely caused by weakness; and thirdly that he recommended him abundance of nourishment & to be in the open air as much as possible.

His eyes at the time were so painful, that he could not use them at night; he sat with his back to the reading lamp, shading them with his hand as he could not bear even that faint light; while I read the newspaper aloud.

On January 2lst John went to Tullamore for Mr. OBrien's release; he met him at Canon McAlroy's where they had a long discussion on several subjects amongst other topics introduced was Dr Ridley. Mr. OBrien expressed gratitude for his kindness to him & Mr Hooper ¹⁷ who was then a prisoner at Tullamore John replied that he had not treated him well but that it may [be] wiser for the welfare of others to say nothing about it. John the more willingly consented to this as the night before he left Tullamore Dr Ridley came to his cell and in a very excited state, and said 'it was an unfortunate day for him when OBrien & he came there; to this John replied that they had never asked to be sent to that prison and that if he had treated him fairly as a medical man should, he need fear no one, however as it was now all over, he would refrain from exposing him. When John returned to Clonkilla I was anxious that he should write to the press, stating how he was treated His reply was 'Remember, Mary, he has an innocent wife and children, I will not injure them, though I certainly would not spare him individually.'

A few days after his return John & I went to Mallow to meet Mr. OBrien, who looked very ill. I went on to Cork & left John for the banquet at which he responded - to one of the toasts. On joining me in Cork the next day he said he regretted that he had done so as he had spoken very badly & with difficulty.

On February the 13th the Plan of Campaign on the Kingston Estate ended in victory for the tenants Lady Kingston giving the 20 per cent demanded the shop-keepers got back their houses, all tenants were allowed into the Land Court, & the landlord paid all law costs incurred.

Soon after this at the March Assizes in Cork, the grand jury passed a large sum of money viz £1000, for Leahy the policeman injured on the day of the Mitchelstown meeting Sep 9th 1887. The people of Mitchelstown & the Barony of Condons and Clongibbons were very indignant at having such a tax levied upon them.

At the inquest held on the bodies of those shot, the policemen swore, they fired with intent to kill; & yet no compensation had been accorded to the families of the murdered men.

On April 3rd a meeting was held in Mitchelstown at which Mr. W. OBrien & Mr. T. Healy ¹⁸ were present but John did not speak at it; he simply seconded a vote of thanks to the Chairman.

That day at lunch Mr. W OBrien who sat near me remarked to me, that he feared John had not yet got over the grievous effects of his imprisonment. A week later John Went to Dublin where he met Mr. Michael Davitt, who remarked to him how thin he had become.

During the months of May & June John was not at all well & complained of his throat but gave any assistance in his power to the opposition to the Leahy Blood Tax, as it was called here. But it was nothing like the work during the Plan of Campaign when he had to be out in all weathers day & night, sometimes driving miles, & the ground white with snow.

He consulted his friend & local physician Dr McCraith ¹⁹ who was for many years a practitioner in Smyrna & he gave him some remedies which he used but the delicacy still continued.

On June 3rd there was a meeting in Cork about the Papal Rescript which John & I attended. I remained in Cork with my Aunt, who remarked to me how weak John looked; that he seemed hardly able to drag his feet I after him; & that he had never recovered the effects of his imprisonment. A few days later I got a telegram from him to come home, I returned at once & on arriving at Clonkilla I asked him had he any particular reason for sending for me; to which he replied 'none except I feel so lonely without you, promise me you will never leave me, even for a day'.

For the first time, since we were married he did not come to the gate to meet me or lift me out saying he was afraid of the rain. Indeed one of the many changes I observed in John from the time he left Tullamore was that he was unable to carry me, saying either you have become very fat or I have become very weak.

June 24th. John went to Balleydine, the last time he ever saw his mother, & he told me on his return of her delight at having him with her. He complained to his brother Frank ²⁰ of not being well, the latter asked him, did I know he was ill, he said no, & that he would not have me made uneasy.

*His birthday, he was born on St John's Day.

June 29th. John drove to Fermoy. I had a violent attack of neuralgia & I remember when he returned the first thing he did was to come to my room, to kiss me & ask me how I was. He said he had brought back with him Mr. Barry of Killavullen, ²¹ who has taken a very prominent part in the resistance to the Blood Tax.

July 1st. John was not at all well, complained of his tooth being very painful.

July 2nd. John remained in bed until late as he still complained of toothache. I brought him up his letters; amongst them was one from Mr. W. O'Brien which pleased him He handed it to me saying (I remember the adjective struck me as peculiar) Is not O'Brien a sweet man? I don't think there is anybody in the world like him' & then pointing to a kind little message to me he continued 'I wonder does he know how much I love you (for I never speak of you) & that just as [I] never could forgive any injury to you, nothing gratifies me like any attention to you. Mr. Condon ²² thoroughly realizes you are my one weak point, & that nothing pleases me so much as his saying I am nearly good enough to be married to you.' It struck me that many men would not be so generous & I kissed him saying 'Well everybody tells me what a devoted husband you are, much too good for me, and I am sure it does not matter in the least, which of us is the better of the two, for you & I are one.

He then went to Fermoy & returned very late & said he had spent the evening with some friends. That he suffered such pain from toothache that he lay on a sofa & pretended to be asleep.

July 3rd. Went to Mitchelstown but returned early, seemed very well & amused himself (he was a capital mimic) entertaining me with a representation of the warder who [had] charge of him at Tullamore

July 4th. John & I dined at my father's. It is one of my greatest comforts to think that he & I had this day of perfect union alone together. I don't think there was a single subject of interest or anybody whom he had ever known of whom John did not speak. Some of his remarks I can never forget 'That many men complained of the ingratitude they experienced, but that he could not, few men had ever received so many acts of kindness as he had, not from Nationalists alone, but even from his political opponents (Conservatives); how he loved Mitchelstown & its people, that it was his home now, dearer even than Carrick, though that was the next beloved spot. What an idealist he was, never satisfied with his own work always thinking he might have done better. He spoke of Tullamore & of Canon McAlroy, & his kindness; & that the one post in the whole world he would like was to be an Inspector of Prisons. I remarked that would be a strange position for one who had been a prisoner himself; he replied 'That is the very reason I would make such a good one Nobody knows where the shoe pinches, but the man who wears it lie alluded to my father saying he was the most upright man he had every known.

July 5th. Complained of toothache & neuralgia; remained in bed until evening, but read his newspaper etc.

Friday. Complained his throat felt sore, thought it was occasioned by his tooth. I remarked, 'How patient you are John, nobody would ever know you were in pain, so different to me when I have neuralgia.' he smiled & said 'Look at the difference between us, you are such a fragile little thing, & I am such a big strong fellow.

Later in the day he drove into Mitchelstown and saw Dr McCraith who told him he ought to be in bed & gave him some medicine which he took.

On Saturday July 7th he got very ill we sent for Dr McCraith who immediately called in Dr Oneill ²³ & telegraphed for Dr Cremin ²⁴ Cork - but all in vain he had no strength left, he passed away as peaceably as a little child on Sunday afternoon. From the beginning of his illness to the close he never uttered one impatient word, always a bright smile, & full of thought for others, never thinking of himself; as Dr McCraith said to me half an hour before the end 'I have never had a patient like John, I have never seen anything like his brave patient uncomplaining spirit.

He received Holy Communion two hours before he passed away and prayed with me. And when the end was near, he put his arm round my neck & kissed me saying he was very happy, to give his love to his poor old mother and not to let her fret for him; then he added 'I am praying but I can't speak God be merciful to me a sinner. He held my hand in his & the Crucifix, for one second he looked startled, & then he raised himself slightly & smiled In those present can never forget his look of glorious happiness, he pressed my hand faintly the last expression of his undying love, just laid back his head & was gone to God without a struggle. So calm & peaceful was it, that I did not know it was over, until my father whispered to me to kiss John & come with him.

Thus ended the life of a truly good religious man & the best husband that ever lived.

If anything could console me in my affliction, it was the widespread regret for his untimely end. From every part of the United Kingdom, from the Channel Islands, from distant India, from the Greater Ireland in America, from Australia I have received expressions of the warmest sympathy; not alone from the Irish people, but from hundreds differing from us in race & religion; and to all I return my heart-felt thanks.

NOTES

1. For the agitation on this estate see Laurence M. Geary, 'The land war on the Kingston estate, 1879-1888', MA, UCC, 1979.
2. Cork Examiner, 10, 12 Aug. 1887.
3. State Paper Office, Dublin Castle, Irish Land League and Irish National League Papers, speeches 1879-1888, carton no. 1.
4. H.C. 1888 (373) LXXXIII. 101.Mandeville Inquest. Return to an order of the honourable, the House of Commons, dated 13 August 1888, for copy of transcript of shorthand writer's notes of proceedings.
5. am
6. James Ridley. He committed suicide in his bedroom at the Royal Hotel, Fermoy, on 20 July, the day he was due to give evidence at the Mandeville inquest. A coroner's jury subsequently brought in a verdict of 'temporary insanity produced by the apprehensions of disclosures at the Mitchelstown inquest'.
7. George Bartley.
8. Co. Westmeath.
9. G.F. Moorhead, a member of the King and Queen's College in Ireland and a licentiate of the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland; a nationalist sympathizer.
10. PP, Tullamore.
11. Carrick-on-Suir.
12. Jane, a sister of John Q'Mahony; married James Hackett Mandeville of Ballycurkeen, Co. Tipperary on 21 Nov. 1838; died on 5 June 1893.
13. James Barr, MD, Glasgow University and a licentiate of the College of Surgeons, Edinburgh; born Co. Derry; practised in Liverpool; surgeon to Kirkdale prison; actively involved in Liverpool Tory politics.
14. Luke Patrick Hayden (1850-1897); MP for S. Leitrim 1885-92, S. Roscommon, 1892-7.
15. T.D. Sullivan (1827-1914); MP, 1880-1900; editor of The Nation; imprisoned in Dec. 1887 for publishing reports of suppressed branches of the National League.
16. William Martin Murphy (1844-1919); MP for St Patrick's division, Dublin, November 1885-1892.
17. John Hooper (1846-1897); MP for SE Cork, 1885-May 1889; editor of the Cork Daily Herald; imprisoned for publishing reports of suppressed branches of the NL.
18. T.M. Healy (1855-1931).
19. Edward McCraith, surgeon to the Mitchelstown dispensary and to the constabulary.
20. Frank Hackett Mandeville (1841-1905); MP for Tipperary S., July 1892-1900.
21. Thomas Barry, Ballingurrane, Killavullen, Co. Cork.
22. T.J. Condon, MP, a Clonmel butcher; known as 'The Tipperary Dragoon'.
23. Dr O'Neill of Mitchelstown; MD, Edinburgh University.
24. Patrick J. Cremen, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland