Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
the hotel, holding up at arm's length a letter to attract my
notice--which it did to my two detectives walking along a short distance
behind him, on the hotel side of the street, with noses elevated and
eyes peering everywhere.
"'Well,' I thought, 'this is getting to be hot, and it is time for me to
leave Cork.' I was now fully aroused to a sense of my danger. No one
happening to be in the commercial room for the moment, I left my hat on
the sofa, and wearing the Scotch cap, slipped downstairs just as they
were past the hotel, following them until I came to where the cab was
waiting with my luggage. I ordered the driver to take me to a canal-boat
wharf, where I dismissed him; then, with bag in hand, I walked across
the canal bridge, stopped in a small shop and hired a smaller boy to go
for a jaunting car, and a few minutes later I was rolling to the
northward.
"On the road I threw some small coins to poor-looking people, who then,
as now, comprised among their numbers the most honest patriots and the
truest-hearted sons of Erin.
"Seeing me throwing the pence to the poor folk, cabby took it into his
head that I must be a priest--a good criterion of the estimation in
which the benevolence of the fathers is held by their own people. And I
may here remark that all the Catholic priests I have known, occupying
the post of chaplain, were without exception faithful and entirely
devoted to the duties of their holy calling. I had no intention of
traveling as a priest, and when I told the driver as much he would not
believe it, but insisted that I was really a priest traveling incognito;
therefore, when we stopped at a small wayside tavern, about twelve miles
from Cork and two to Fermoy, he privately informed the mistress that I
was a priest who did not want the fact to become known. Accordingly the
good woman treated me with marked attention during my short stay. It was
then nearly sunset, and as I did not wish the cabman to get back to Cork
until late at night, I kept him eating and drinking until dark, when I
paid the bill and started him homeward, uproariously rejoicing. I then
started for Fermoy station, about two miles distant, taking the hostler
along to carry my bag. When within half a mile of the village I let him
return. While passing through the village I went into a shop and
purchased a different Scotch cap, the 'Glengarry.'
"Arriving at the station, I noticed a man near the ticket office who
appeared to be watching those who were purchasing tickets. This made me
change my plan--instead of taking a ticket to Dublin, I bought one for
Lismore, the end of the road in the opposite direction. The exclamation,
'Well, are you going to stay all night?' was the first intimation I had
of our arrival at that place. I rubbed my sleepy eyes, and saw with
dismay that all the passengers were gone and one of the porters was
putting out the lights. At the platform I found a cab, and by 9 p.m. I
was at the Lismore House. After eating supper I entered the sitting
room, finding a single occupant whom I took to be a lawyer, and judging
by his conversation and manner, in the light of later events, I do not
doubt that he surmised who I was. He was reading a newspaper, which he
once or twice offered to me; but, not dreaming of the interesting nature
of its contents, I declined to take it from him. About 10 o'clock the
gentleman retired, leaving his paper on the table. I carelessly picked
it up, and the first thing that caught my eyes was a displayed heading
in large type, offering L5,000 reward for my arrest.
"A thunderbolt, indeed! For a few minutes I stared at the paper in blank
dismay. It was fortunate for my temporary safety that there were no
witnesses present. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'this is a predicament!
How did they obtain any clue to me? I thought we had covered up the
whole affair so deep in mystery that not a clue to our personality could
ever be obtained!'
"I sat for an hour alone in this Lismore Hotel, utterly dumfounded,
bewildered, paralyzed. I had experienced some shocks, some 'take-downs,'
in my time, but never one to compare with this.
"Arousing myself from a state of mental stupefaction hitherto unknown, I
began to realize the necessity of immediate action if I wished to avoid
falling into the merciless jaws of the British lion. I put the paper
into the fire, and retired to the room allotted to me.
"Before daylight in the morning I had decided upon the first step, and
as the lawyer had asked me if I intended to remain over Sunday, I
resolved to be as far away as possible before he was out of bed. While
it was yet dark in the house, I left my bag in the bedroom and crept
gently down the stairs to the basement, where the porter-hostler was
sleeping in a box of rags. I suppose the poor wretch had not long
finished his multifarious duties, for I could arouse him only to a state
of semi-consciousness, and could get no information from him. I then
went up to the front door, carefully turned the key and stepped out on
the piazza which ran along the front of the hotel. Another shock was in
store for me. A man posted on the other side of the street was watching
the hotel!
"It was now quite light, and I sauntered carelessly up the street,
apparently taking no notice of the man over the way, and endeavoring to
show by my actions that I was out for an airing before breakfast.
"As I turned the next corner and glanced back, I saw him following. I
noticed a place where jaunting-cars were to be let, but passed on, at
each turn glancing back to see my follower the same distance in the
rear. I now took a circuit around by the hotel, but instead of going in
I hastened and turned the next corner beyond--he, when reaching the
corner near the hotel, not seeing me, doubtless thought I had gone in,
and planted himself in his old position. I thought Lismore to be getting
rather hot, and hastening to the livery stable, found the hostler just
getting up. He informed me that all the horses were engaged for the day
except one, the fastest they had, but as this was engaged for a long
journey on Tuesday, they were letting him have a rest. I said: 'But, my
good fellow, I must have a horse, and at once, with you to drive, and
there will be a half sovereign for a good Irishman, such as I see before
me.' My 'blarney' began to do its work. Scratching his head, he finally
said: 'Well, I will waken up my master, and you can talk with him.' So
he rapped at a window, and soon a night-capped head appeared, and after
some parley the master consented to let me have his equipage. In a few
minutes from the time I had lost sight of my follower we were rattling
out of the town of Lismore at the full speed of a blooded Irish horse. I
had left my bag behind, taking only the Scotch caps and ulster with me
from the hotel. I found, by reference to the small map and railway
guide, that Clonmel was less than thirty miles distant, and connected
with Dublin by a branch line. When I engaged the jaunting-car I had
told the owner that it was uncertain what part of the day I should
require it, and after we were about five miles from Lismore I said to
the driver:
"'You say that you are going to Clonmel on Tuesday for a passenger.
Well, now, as I must go there before I leave this part of the country,
you may as well continue in that direction, and I can return with you on
Tuesday.'
"This pleased him, and we drove on till about noon, when we stopped at a
country grocery about five miles from Clonmel. As we drove up to the
door, the words of an old Irish song went jingling through my brain:
"'At the sign of the bell,
On the road to Clonmel,
Pat Flagherty kept a neat shebeen.'
"The rain poured down in torrents. I gave my driver a lunch of bread and
cheese, which--of course, there--included whisky. I also gave him a
sovereign, telling him to pay his master for the horse-hire and keep the
change for himself; then started him back, brimful of delight and the
'craythur,' receiving his parting salute:
"'Yer 'onor is a jintleman, and no mistake.'
"I arranged with the storekeeper to let a boy take me in his car to
Clonmel.
"The Green Isle! Well, I found out that day what keeps the grass green
in Ireland. My Irish frieze and every thread on me were water-logged,
yet the Irish lad, my driver, took the 'buckets-full' as a matter of
course. Amid this deluge of rain we arrived in Clonmel and stopped at a
'shebeen,' kept by the boy's uncle--driving into the back yard through a
gate in a board fence fifteen feet high, which shut it in from the
street.
"I went into a room in the rear of the sale room, the door of which
stood open so that I could see all that passed within, and, as I stood
drying my clothes by the turf fire, I saw how thirsty souls on the
'ould sod,' evaded the Sunday liquor law. The proprietor stood in the
shop in a position whence he could covertly keep an eye on the policeman
patrolling the street, and as soon as he was out of sight a signal was
given, the backyard gate thrown open, when a dozen men rushed in, and
the gate closed. Coming hilariously through the dwelling into the shop,
these were soon busily drinking their 'potheen.'
"It was now 2 o'clock p.m., the rain had ceased, and starting out, I
walked along a main street until I saw a sign 'cabs to let.' I went into
the house and was shown into an inner room, where the proprietress sat
crooning over a turf fire. She motioned me to a seat beside her, and
when I told her I wished for a conveyance to take me to Cahir, a place
eight miles distant, she asked me several questions, among others, how
long I wished to be gone, and if I were not an American. To all of which
I replied to the following effect: That I was going to visit some
friends who were officers stationed in the fort at Cahir; and as to her
mistaking me for an American, the ancestors of the 'Yankees' went from
about Norfolk County, England, to America, of course, taking the accent
with them, and I being from the former place, (Norfolk) of course had
the same accent.
"This explanation appeared to satisfy the old lady, and she became quite
confidential; and, anxious to remove from my mind any trace of offense
at her unusual questioning, she drew closer to me and said:
"I can see that you are all right; but the fact is that the captain of
police sent an order that I should notify him at once in case any
stranger wished to hire a vehicle, especially if I thought him an
American. But I do not care for the curs; they are nothing but a parcel
of spies and informers in the pay of the English Government; so even if
you were the one they are looking for they will wait a long time for me
to inform them, and you shall have my best horse and a good driver.'
"I heartily thanked the good old Irish lady--for I have found true
ladies and gentlemen among the poor and humble, as well as the wealthy,
especially in Ireland--and in a few minutes I was bowling gayly along
toward Cahir.
"This is a small, ancient, walled garrison town, the nearest railway
station being at Clonmel. This miniature city has been the scene of many
a heart-stirring event in the distant past. Here Cromwell was for a time
held at bay, and his fanatical hordes made their Celtic opponents pay in
blood for their patriotic and desperate defense of their homes and
firesides.
"Driving through the town gate, I saw in the main street a grocery store
with a blind down, and telling the driver to halt there, I paid him and
sent him back. I then went into the grocery, and after taking a lunch of
bread and cheese, continued my walk up the street. I saw a hotel just
ahead, but not wishing to attract attention to my movements, I crossed