full of black gowns and law-books, barefooted
suttlers tramping behind with stores of wine
and groceries. A mile or so from the town, the
gentlemen of the grand jury came riding out to
vociferously welcome the new-comers. But in
'28 the barristers stole down in the mail one by
one, and the picturesqueuess of the old entry
had all disappeared.

The principal trial of the assize of 1828 was
that of the assassins of Daniel Mara, a man who
had been condemned to death by the secret
societies that were then, and still are, the curse
of Ireland, for having brought to justice the
murderer of a land-agent named Chadwick. The
details of this first crime must be given before
the trial of Mara's assassins can be thoroughly
understood.

Mr. Chadwick was the collector of rents or
steward for an influential family who had
property near the old abbey of Holy Cross. He
was not peculiarly hard or rigorous with, the
smaller holders, nor was he a bad-hearted man;
but he was overbearing and contemptuous to
the peasantry, and used to tell them boastingly
that be "fattened upon their curses." The
country-people, while brooding over their hatred
for this man, used to craftily reply on such
occasions, that " his honour was mighty
pleasant; and sure his honour, God bless him,
was always fond of his joke." The poor
oppressed people had acquired the Indian's craft
and the Indian's unrelenting thirst for revenge.
At last Chadwick, who feared nothing, carried
his repressions to too daring a pitch. He
began building a police-barrack at Rath
Common, that was to be a sort of outlying fort to
repress the insolence and turbulence of the
disaffected people. The secret tribunal of the
Tipperary village then resolved that he should die.
A reckless, handsome lad, named Patrick Grace,
offered himself as the executioner, and was
accepted. Relying on the universal sympathy,
the lad came to Rath Common, in open day, on
the public road, and close to the barrack, where
passengers were perpetually passing, lie shot
Mr. Chadwick dead, and left him weltering
in his blood. This murder spread dismay and
horror throughout Ireland, showing as it did
the daring ferocity of the secret tribunals and
the sympathy shown their agents by the great
mass of the peasantry. All this time Grace
remained bold and careless, conscious of the
sure secresy and power of the confederacy to
which he belonged, and whose murderous work
he had done. But he miscalculated, for a
worthy man, named Mara, who saw the shot fired,
and who stood near Chadwick at the time, gave
immediate information, and Grace was at once
arrested and tried at the Clonmel summer
assizes of 1827. Grace behaved in a fearless
way at his trial, and when he was sentenced
to death declared that before a year had gone
by he should have vengeance in the grave.
His kinsmen had, no doubt, promised him that
miserable satisfaction. The gibbet for Grace
was erected close to the abbey of Holy Cross,
and near the scene of the murder. Patrick was
escorted to the last scene of his short life by a
body of troops, and fifteen thousand awe-struck
people assembled round the scaffold. To the
surprise and disappointment of the peasantry,
their martyr, though showing no fear of death,
expressed himself contrite, and implored the
spectators to take warning by his example. While
the body of the poor lad still swung in the air,
his gloves were handed by one of his relations as
a keepsake to an old man, a friend of Patrick's,
named John Russell, who, drawing them on,
swore at the same time that he would never take
them off " till Paddy Grace was revenged."

Philip Mara, knowing his life would certainly
be taken, was sent out of Tipperary by the
government; but the peasantry, true Arabs in
revenge, then resolved to exterminate his
kindred. His three brothers, all masons working
at the new barrack, were doomed to death.
The whole peasantry of Rath Common joined in
the cruel league. No man, woman, or child
who looked them in the face for weeks, but
knew that they were shortly to be killed. On
the 1st of October, 1827, the three brothers
struck work about five o'clock, and descended
from the scaffold to return homeward.
Suddenly eight men rushed upon them, and fired a
volley. The guns were old, and the volley did
not take effect. Two of the brothers and an
apprentice escaped in different directions, but
Daniel Mara, the third brother, lost his presence
of mind, and ran for shelter into the house of a
poor widow. He was hotly pursued. One
murderer got in after him through a small
window; the seven others burst open the door, and
savagely put him to a cruel death. This crime
caused a greater sensation than even the deatli
of Chadwick, and struck a deep terror through
the length and breadth of Ireland. The government
instantly offered a reward of two thousand
pounds for the assassins; but of the
hundreds of accomplices none would betray the
eight murderers.

At last, through the personal exertions on
the spot of Mr. Doherty, the solicitor-general,
a highway robber named Fitzgerald, who was
cast for death in the Clonmel jail, offered to
furnish evidence to government if his own life
was saved. Two men, named Patrick Lacy and
John Walsh, were at once arrested, and on the
31st of March, 1828, tried at the Clonmel
assizes for the murder of Daniel Mara.

The trial excited tremendous interest. Half
the gentry of Tipperary thronged the court.
A great crowd of peasantry gathered round the
dock, and among them were dispersed a number
of policemen, whose dark-green uniforms, high
shakos, and keen glittering bayonets contrasted
with the ragged grey frieze coats and cudgels
of the country people. The governor of the
jail stood on the witness-table, conspicuous with
his ponderous keys. Mr. Justice Moor, in his
red robes lined with black, looked grave as
Rhadamanthus; and beside him sat the Earl of
Kingston, whose dark and massive countenance
and wild shaggy hair made him as conspicuous
as the judge himself.

The prisoners, careless of the evidence of a
mere " stag" or informer, always regarded by