The Dock and the Scaffold | Page 9

whose fate this narrative
is closely connected, and whose names are destined to be long
remembered in Ireland. They have won for themselves, by their
courage, constancy, and patriotism, a fame that will never die; and
through all future time they will rank beside the dauntless spirits that in
days of darkness and disaster perished for the sacred cause of Ireland.
Great men, learned men, prominent men they were not--they were poor,
they were humble, they were unknown; they had no claim to the
reputation of the warrior, the scholar, or the statesman; but they
laboured, as they believed, for the redemption of their country from
bondage; they risked their lives in a chivalrous attempt to rescue from
captivity two men whom they regarded as innocent patriots, and when
the forfeit was claimed, they bore themselves with the unwavering
courage and single-heartedness of Christian heroes. Their short and

simple annals are easily written, but their names are graven on the Irish
heart, and their names and actions will be cherished in Ireland when the
monumental piles that mark the resting-places of the wealthy and the
proud have returned, like the bodies laid beneath them, to dust.
William Philip Allen was born near the town of Tipperary, in April,
1848. Before he was quite three years old his parents removed to
Bandon, County Cork, where the father, who professed the Protestant
religion, received the appointment of bridewell-keeper. As young Allen
grew up, he evinced a remarkable aptitude for the acquirement of
knowledge, and his studious habits were well known to his playmates
and companions. He was a regular attendant at the local training-school
for the education of teachers for the Protestant schools of the parish, but
he also received instruction at the morning and evening schools
conducted under Catholic auspices, in the same town. He was not a
wild boy, but he was quick and impulsive,--ready to resent a wrong, but
equally ready to forgive one; and his natural independence of spirit and
manly disposition rendered him a favourite with all his acquaintances.
The influence and example of his father did not prevent him from
casting a wistful eye towards the ancient faith. His mother, a good
pious Catholic, whose warmest aspiration was to see her children in the
fold of the true church, encouraged this disposition by all the means in
her power, and the result of her pious care shortly became apparent. A
mission, opened in the town by some Catholic order of priests,
completed the good work, which the prayers and the example of an
affectionate mother had commenced; and young Allen, after regularly
attending the religious services and exercises of the mission, became so
much Impressed with the truth of the lectures and sermons he had
listened to, that he formally renounced the alien religion, and was
received by the respected parish priest of the town into the bosom of
the Catholic Church. His only sister followed his example, while his
brothers, four in number, remained in the Protestant communion. The
subject of our sketch was apprenticed to a respectable master carpenter
and timber merchant in Bandon, but circumstances highly creditable to
the young convert induced the severance of the connection before his
period of apprenticeship was expired, and we next find him working at
his trade in Cork, where he remained for some six months, after which

he returned to Bandon. He next crossed over to Manchester, at the
request of some near relatives living there. Subsequently he spent a few
weeks in Dublin, where he worked as builder's clerk; and finally he
revisited Manchester, where he had made himself numerous friends. It
was in the summer of '67 that Allen last journeyed to Manchester. He
was then little more than nineteen years old, but there is reason to
believe that he had long before become connected with the Fenian
conspiracy. In his ardent temperament the seeds of patriotism took deep
and firm root, and the dangers of the enterprise to which the Fenians
were committed served only to give it a fresh claim upon his
enthusiastic nature. When Colonel Kelly quitted Dublin, and took up
his quarters in Manchester, Allen was one of his most trusted and
intimate associates; and when the prison door grated behind the Fenian
leader, it was Allen who roused his countrymen to the task of effecting
his liberation. Allen had by this time grown into a comely young man
of prepossessing appearance; he was a little over the middle height,
well shaped, without presenting the appearance of unusual strength, and
was always seen neatly and respectably dressed. His face was pale, and
wore a thoughtful expression, his features, when in repose, wearing an
appearance of pensiveness approaching to melancholy. His eyes were
small, the eyelids slightly marked; a mass of dark hair