The Wearing of the Green | Page 8

Larkin were condemned to death as political
offenders, some of the highest and the noblest in the land warned the
government to pause before the extreme penalty pronounced on the
condemned men would be carried into effect, but all remonstrance was
in vain, and on last Saturday fortnight, three comparatively unknown
men in their death passed into the ranks of heroes and martyrs, because
it was believed, and believed generally, that their lives were sacrificed
to expediency, and not to satisfy justice. The spot where Robert Emmet
closed his young life on a bloody scaffold was yesterday regarded by
thousands upon thousands of his countrymen and women as a holy
place, and all looked upon his fate as similar to that of the three men
whose memory they had assembled to honour, and whose death they
pronounced to be unjust. It would be hard to give a just conception of

the scene here, as the procession advanced and divided, as it were, into
two great channels, owing to the breaking up of the streetway. On the
advance of the cortege reaching the top of Bridgefoot-street every head
was uncovered, and nothing was to be heard but the measured tread of
the vast mass, but as if by some secret and uncontrollable impulse a
mighty, ringing, and enthusiastic cheer, broke from the moving throng
as the angle of the footway at the eastern end of St. Catherine's church,
where the scaffold on which Emmet was executed stood, was passed. In
that cheer there appeared to be no fiction, as it evidently came straight
from the hearts of thousands, who waved their hats and handkerchiefs,
as did also the groups that clustered in the windows of the houses in the
neighbourhood. As the procession moved on from every part of it the
cheers rose again and again, men holding up their children, and
pointing out the place where one who loved Ireland, "not wisely but too
well," rendered up his life. When the hearse with white plumes came up
bearing on the side draperies the words "William P. Allen," all the
enthusiasm and excitement ceased, and along the lines of spectators
prayers for the repose of the soul of the departed man passed from
mouth to mouth; and a sense of deep sadness seemed to settle down on
the swaying multitude as the procession rolled along on its way. After
this hearse came large numbers of females walking on bravely,
apparently heedless of the muddy streets and the unceasing rain that
came down without a moment's intermission. When the second hearse,
bearing white plumes and the name of "Michael O'Brien" on the side
pendants, came up, again all heads were uncovered, and prayers recited
by the people for the everlasting rest of the departed. Still onward
rolled the mighty mass, young and old, and in the entire assemblage
was not to be observed a single person under the influence of drink, or
requiring the slightest interference on the part of the police, whose
exertions were altogether confined to keeping the general thoroughfare
clear of obstruction. Indeed, justly speaking, the people required no
supervision, as they seemed to feel that they had a solemn duty to
discharge. Fathers were to be seen bearing in their arms children
dressed in white and decorated with green ribbons, and here, as
elsewhere, was observed unmistakable evidence of the deep sympathy
of the people with the executed men. This was, perhaps, more
strikingly illustrated as the third hearse, with sable plumes, came up

bearing at either side the name of "Michael Larkin;" prayers for his
soul's welfare were mingled with expressions of commiseration for his
widow and children. At the entrance to Cornmarket, where the
streetway narrows, the crushing became very great, but still the
procession kept its onward course. On passing the shop of Hayburne,
who, it will be remembered, was convicted of being connected with the
Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession
uncovered and cheered. In the house of Roantree, in High-street, who
was also convicted of treason-felony, a harp was displayed in one of the
drawingroom windows by a lady dressed in deep mourning, and the
procession loudly cheered as it passed on its route.
Standing at the corner of Christchurch-place, a fine view could be had
of the procession as it approached Winetavern-street from High-street.
The compact mass moved on at a regular pace, while from the windows
on either side of the streets the well-dressed citizens, who preferred to
witness the demonstration from an elevated position rather than
undergo the fatigues and unpleasantness of a walk through the city in
such weather, eagerly watched the approach of the procession. Under
the guidance of the horsemen and those whose wands showed it was
their duty to marshal the immense throng, the