neighbourhood as—a juryman! People who had
a cause in court used to bribe him to be on the
jury, and if he were satisfied with the amount,
he, possibly, also bribed the summoning officer.
He then always either tired out, or bullied,
or over-persuaded, his fellow- jurors. When
the officers went to his house, accompanied
by several magistrates, they found him at
home. He made no attempt to escape, but
treated the charge lightly. One of the magistrates
advised him to give orders about his
farm, as he would be away a long time.

"Sure it will not be more than a couple of
days, at furthest," said he.

"It will be more than two days, or two weeks,
or two years," said the magistrate.

Malachi shrugged his shoulders, ordered his
nag to be saddled, and he cut a long willow
switch for the purpose of urging on his horse.
He did not seem to attend to anything passing
round him, but rode on in silence, with the end
of this rod in his mouth. He continued to bite
it, and when he and his escort arrived at Macroom,
a distance of only three miles, the willow
switch was bitten to within an inch of the end.
He had been considering. He offered to turn
informer if he might be assured of the three
hundred pounds offered for reward. His offer
was accepted, and Malachi Duggan stated that
on the night in question fourteen men, under
his orders, assembled and went in a body to
attack Codrum, with the intention of plundering
whatever they could carry off, but without
any design to harm Colonel Hutchinson.
Colonel Hutchinson was sitting up reading as
usual, and, on hearing the noise of the window
smashed and the shutter broken in, he immediately
came down stairs to see what was the
matter. He found the hall filled with men,
some of whom were armed; amongst them he
saw his own gamekeeper, named MacCarthy,
and incautiously exclaimed:

"Are you here, MacCarthy?"

Malachi Duggan, the captain of the gang, at
once called out:

"MacCarthy, do your duty."

The gamekeeper raised his gun and fired.
Colonel Hutchinson fell dead. The sight of his
dead body struck them with panic, and they
hastily left the house, taking nothing with them.
Malachi Duggan gave the names of all the men
who had been with him. The magistrates and
gentry immediately began a strict search, but the
criminals, as soon as it was rumoured that Malachi
had turned Informer, took to the hills and concealed
themselves—all the country people of
course assisting and aiding them. The county of
Cork was at that period under martial law, and the
Cork yeomanry were a formidable body. They
were determined that the murderers of Colonel
Hutchinson should not escape, and they hunted
down all the peasants suspected of giving them
shelter. One day they were on the track of
some of the murderers; but the inhabitants of
a mountain hamlet had aided their escape.
Prompt measures were taken on the spot. The
cabins were searched; every article of furniture
was dragged out, piled in a heap, and
then set on fire; the wretched owners standing
round, not daring to say a word. One of the
soldiers, separated from the ranks, searching an
outhouse, found a feather-bed carefully concealed.
He was dragging this poor bed to share
the fate of the rest, when the captain, a man
of humanity, cried out:

"No, gentlemen; these wretched people have
suffered enough: let us leave them at least this
bed."

As he spoke, a ball whizzed past, grazing his
ear. Turning round, a puff of white smoke was
seen over the brow of a hill behind them. Immediately,
he and two other gentlemen galloped
to the spot, feeling sure they had come upon
the criminals. They, however, found only two
peasants, who had no connexion with Duggan
or his gang. They belonged to the village,
and, exasperated at seeing the destruction
of their goods, had fired the shot. They
were immediately seized, and dragged to the
prison of Macroom. They were tried, not for
firing on the yeomanry, but for helping and
hiding the murderers, and they were condemned
to be transported. Their trial and sentence
made a great sensation. When they were on
board the hulks, all their relations and friends
came in a body to the court-house, and offered,
if these two men were restored to their families,
that the whole country should join to hunt
down the murderers and give them up to justice.
After some consideration this offer was
accepted.

The men were pardoned, sent back to their
homes, and the people of the county began to
keep their word. The murderers now led the
lives of hunted wolves, and endured fearful
hardships. Winter was approaching, and they
did not dare to enter a cabin; every one was
against them. Two contrived to escape to
America; but the others wandered about
amongst the mountains of Glenfesk, hiding under
rocks, not daring to kindle a fire. At length
the people pretended to become friendly to
them: some villagers invited them to come to
a supper in a barn, where they declared they
would be safe. The men, more than half-famished,
came down from the mountains, but
refused to enter any building, lest they should
be surprised; they sat down on the ground
and began to eat voraciously. The peasants fell
upon them, disarmed them, and gave them up
to justice. The trial came on. Malachi Duggan
swore to them all, gave a circumstantial account
of the murder, and seemed utterly callous
to his own infamy. One of the men was
his own cousin, named John Duggan, a stonemason.
This man was not destitute of the
family cunning; he declared that Colonel
Hutchinson had not been shot at all; that if
the body could be seen, it would be found that
the wound had been made by a sharp instrument,
and that the end of his chisel would fit
the wound; therefore, all that Malachi swore
about discharging the gun was a lie. This
circumstantial statement rather shook the jury.