Dublin and the importations from the slums of
manufacturing towns in England seldom had a
shilling. The latter were miserable, stunted,
woebegone creatures, with a mischievous cast
of countenance not usual with the Americans.
Now and then the police discovered pikes, swords,
belts, revolvers, and rifles — never many together
—hidden behind shutters, between beds and
mattresses, or under the flooring. Secret
information had led the detectives to their hiding-
places, and it was surmised by many that the
information was given by the leaders of the plot
themselves. They knew that every seizure
would be magnified tenfold, and made notorious
through the public press. Thus the discontented
and seditious would believe that the
conspirators were at work, and preparing for a
rise. The majority, however, believed that
Fenianism was merely a gigantic swindle,
intended to procure money for the leaders. From
the first, the authorities, especially those
connected with the military service, thought
differently. The public did not know what
information or proof the government might possess;
but while all was in profound peace around
them, they saw the government urgently pressing
forward military preparations, as if a
formidable foe were at hand. All were puzzled,
and not a few blamed the authorities for
creating alarm in the minds of women or
timid persons by vain and unnecessary
precautions.

Such was the state of things when I left
Dublin, and it did seem strange to me that, if
danger were really imminent, "leave" should
have been freely given. In my retreat I
heard of the fiasco at Cahirciveen, and the
curious movement on Chester; but my newspaper
was always three days late, and was read, I verily
believe, by every person in the village before it
was allowed to come to me. There were Fenians,
as I afterwards found, in my neighbourhood, and
accident taught me that the maid-servant in my
lodgings was enlisted in the plot. A secluded
glen some distance from my home was a favourite
haunt of mine, but I found that whenever I
strolled out in that direction, she placed a candle
in an upper room, the window of which could
be seen from the glen. I noticed the light,
but did not discover that it was a signal until
informed by the constabulary on the night
before I left.

I was sitting at breakfast on the morning of
the 5th of March, wondering whether all my
friends had forgotten me, seeing that I received
no letters, when a jaunting-car was driven up
before my window, and a boy handed me a
telegram. It was very brief, containing an
order for my instant return to Dublin and my
post. I felt that "something was up," and,
telling the carman to wait, made my hurried
preparations. While I was wrapping a rug
about my legs, the servant-girl, looking
piercingly at me, inquired: "Have they kept their
word?" As I hesitated, not knowing what
answer to give, she inquired again: "Are the boys
up in Dublin? They said they would rise today."
"Indeed?" said I. "You know much
more than I do." As I dashed down the road
leading to the station, I noticed that a loose pile
of straw at the head of the glen had been fired,
and now sent up into the clear air a rolling
column of white smoke. In ten minutes
similar smoke signals were seen on seven
hillocks stretching round and past the glen,
and then I believed that there really was
"something up."

I travelled to town by the Great Southern
and Western Railway in a third-class carriage.
I wished to hear the talk of the country people.
I counted nine young athletic fellows in the
carriage; they were all singularly silent. We
took in few additional passengers until the train
reached successively Straffan, Celbridge, Lucan,
and Cloudalkin. At the last two places passengers
became so numerous that accommodation
could not be provided for them. There was
evidently an understanding between many of the
young peasants and two American Celts who
got in at Celbridge. The moment these men
entered, every pipe was put out. They had
with them a stout deal box about twenty
inches long and sixteen deep, braced at
the corners with iron, and evidently of great
weight.

There was no confusion or crowding at the
terminus. I noticed that three men stepped out
from among the carriages and cabs, and
addressed a very brief sentence to the two
Americans who had travelled with us. The
young men regularly "fell in" and marched rather
than walked down the quays. Suddenly they
broke up into twos and threes, and disappeared
rapidly up the lanes leading to Thomas and
James-street. Three hours afterwards, I
recognised five of them at Tallaght.

Coming down the north side of the quays, here
and there scarcely seen — for the gas was
peculiarly dim — I saw policemen wearing swords
standing in sixes together with their backs
against shop shutters. They looked like a
black wall. Further on, a group of boys,
youths, and men would be formed around
one person in the centre, and, after receiving
brief directions from him, also broke up into
twos and threes and passed rapidly down the
quay.

I saw one group in process of formation. A
man stood motionless in the centre of the pathway,
near Arran Quay Chapel. He beat the pavement
with his iron-shod heel, as if to warm his
feet. Almost immediately, were heard at a
distance similar triple heatings of the feet, and in an
incredibly short time a group of at least thirty
formed in a circle, witli their faces turned
towards an individual in the centre — to break up
in twos or threes almost as soon as formed. I
counted thirty-one of these groups from the
railway terminus to Sackville-sireet. But here
there was a continuous stream of men and
boys passing rapidly over Carlisle Bridge. For
the most part they were the gamins of
the city — horse-holders, sweepers of shop
doors, ragged nondescripts, pickpockets. Pale-