CHAPTER XIV.

TERRY DRISCOLL'S FICTION--BRIDGET LAFFAN--SAILORS--FISHER.

I shall now revert to magisterial reminiscences, and notice an anecdote originally published in the _Warder_ newspaper, as a portion of a letter signed "Terry Driscoll," which was the _nom de plume_ of a well-known facetious and imaginative contributor named Jackson. It purports to be a report of observations addressed by me to a female who was repeatedly charged with being "drunk and disorderly." It states that Mr. Porter said to the delinquent that her frequent intoxication was always accompanied with indecent language and personal violence, so as to render her a public nuisance and a plague to the police. He then adjudged her, in default of solvent security for her good behaviour, to be committed for one calendar month, which time should be sufficient to bring her to a proper state of reflection on the past, and a disposition to reform her habits, and to curse Whiskey. To this she is represented to have replied, "That she had no fault to find with Whiskey, nor would she ever curse it, but from the bottom of her heart she could wish _bad lack to Porter_." To this anecdote several English periodicals have afforded extensive publicity, and I have merely to say that it is altogether a fiction.

BRIDGET LAFFAN.

There is, I believe, still living in Dublin, a woman named Bridget Laffan. I would readily wager that since 1841 she has been the subject of more than two thousand committals, in which drunkenness, violence, abusive language, indecent expressions or behaviour, and occasional mendicancy, constituted the offences. Shortly before I retired, she was brought before me charged with intoxication, and with three distinct assaults; one being on a constable in the execution of his duty. I told her, the cases having been fully proved, that on each of the assaults she should go to prison, with hard labor, for two months, which would relieve the public and the police for the next half year from one who had become an intolerable pest and disgrace to the community. When I directed her to be removed, she exclaimed that "she had not been allowed to say a word for herself." I then said that she was at liberty to speak, if it occurred to her that there was any favorable circumstances in her case either as a defence or mitigation. Her reply was short and peculiarly argumentative.

"It's an unrasonable thing to sind me to Grangegorman for six months, and to call me a pest and disgrace to the 'varsal world. If it wasn't for me and the likes of me, that gets a bit disorderly whin we have a drop, and kicks up ructions now and then, there ud be very little call for polis magistrates and polismen, or such varmint. It's creatures like me that's yer best friends, and keeps the bread in yer mouths, and all we get for it is jailing and impudence."

SAILORS.

During the considerable time in which I discharged magisterial duties at the Head Office and also at Kingstown, I cannot recollect that more than five or six charges were preferred before me against sailors. When the Ajax was stationed at the latter place one of the crew stole some clothes and other articles from several of his shipmates. The thief was detected on shore with some of the property in his possession, and was summarily convicted before me, and imprisoned, with hard labor, for six months. I notice this case on account of the discontent which, I was credibly informed, the treatment of the delinquent produced amongst the crew. It is generally believed that the abolition of corporal punishment was anxiously desired by our sailors; but in reference to the instance of thieving which was disposed of by me, it was regarded on board the ship as almost tantamount to the forgiveness of the delinquent. The opinion was most freely expressed that the fellow should have been sent on board, tried by court-martial, and _flogged_. It was the only offence of a mean and disgraceful nature that I ever knew to be charged against a blue-jacket.

About twenty years have elapsed since "La Hogue" frigate came into Kingstown. One of the crew, as fine-looking a young man as ever I saw, came on shore and indulged too freely in strong potations. It required two or three constables to effect his capture and lodgment in the station-house. Next morning he was brought up before me, and the circumstances of his intoxication and resistance were in course of statement by one of his captors, who occupied the witness box, whilst the prisoner stood directly opposite to the bench, with the ship's corporal, who had been sent ashore to look after him, standing close beside him. I said to the sailor, "If you wish to put any question to the constable, you are at liberty to do so, and if you feel disposed to say anything for yourself, I am ready and willing to hear you." He stood silent and downcast, when the ship's corporal nudged him and said quite aloud, "Speak up for yourself like a man, the magistrate is a good gentleman, and is ready to hear you." The prisoner replied in a desponding, but perfectly audible tone, "It's no use, that fellow (pointing to the policeman) will swear anything, and the old chap will believe him." There was loud and general laughter at the estimate formed by the tar of the constable and of the magistrate. I discharged him, without prejudice to informations and a warrant, and told the ship's corporal that the warrant should not be sent on board. I consequently restricted the sailor to remain in his vessel during her stay at Kingstown, which was for about another week.

From the same ship a sailor came ashore attired in his best clothes, and with seven pounds in his pocket. He was decoyed into a disreputable place, where, by the administration of whiskey and snuff, he was rendered insensible. A detective observed a woman leaving the house, and carrying a bundle. He allowed her to proceed to the railway terminus, at the entrance of which he arrested her. The bundle contained the seaman's clothes, and the female searcher got a five pound note and two sovereigns secreted in the culprit's _chignon_. The police did not inform the sailor of the clothes and money having been found. They dressed him in some old ill-fitting habiliments, and he looked most lubberly in his attire, and also deeply dejected at the supposed loss of his clothes and cash. His sadness was at once dissipated by the contents of the bundle being produced, and the banknote and sovereigns completed the restoration of his spirits. There was, however, one small article missing, and in reference to it he made an earnest request of me, and accompanied it with _an alluring offer_, in the following terms:--

"Your honor, my clothes are all here and my money is safe too. I only miss a little blue hankercher with white spots, I had it from mother when we last parted; and it's dog's usage I'll get from her if I haven't it at our next meeting. If you send out a smart chap or two in search of it, I think it will be easily got, and if it is, I'm d----d but I'll stand anything that you and your people choose to call for, all round."

A summary conviction, with six months' imprisonment, of the woman with whom the clothes and money were detected, terminated the proceeding. The kerchief was not sought for, and we had "all round" to content ourselves without the proffered libations.

FISHER.

One of the most extraordinary characters of the many who came under my frequent magisterial notice, was a man named Fisher. He was the most inveterate and incorrigible drunkard that was to be found in Dublin, perhaps I might truly say, in the Empire. He had been educated, as I heard, in Stockholm, and acquired a proficiency in several European languages. He had also considerable classical attainments. His intemperance had ruined his commercial interests, and precluded his employment by others, even in very subordinate capacities. Occasionally he would be taken and kept almost as a prisoner in the concerns of an extensive timber merchant, arranging with the Norwegian or Danish people engaged in the delivery of cargoes. A suit of clothes and a pound or two would be thus acquired, but in a few minutes after his liberation he would assuredly be found in street or lane, hall or entry, dead drunk. He was never violent, abusive, blasphemous, or indecent, and as his senses returned, he became courteous and submissive. By the police he was generally pitied, and when a constable was obliged to state that he found "Mr. Fisher" drunk on a thoroughfare, he almost invariably added that he was _very quiet_. The magistrates were not severe on the wretched creature, and in general, the ruling in reference to him was deferred until the close of their sitting (four o'clock), and then the charge sheet was marked, "Dismissed with a caution." If there happened to be a paucity of cases, we were not disinclined to allow Fisher to address the bench, and state the grounds on which he expected or solicited exemption from punishment. He never "worshipped" us, but invariably named the magistrate, with the prefix of "My dear." I recollect a short speech having been made by him before myself, which excited my surprise and admiration from its purity of diction and the combination of interesting ideas it evinced. The charge against him was "Drunk on a public thoroughfare," and the constable stated that he found Mr. Fisher lying on the steps of a hall door in Peter Street, fast asleep, and having been aroused, he was very drunk, but perfectly quiet.

"My dear Mr. Porter," said the prisoner, "I acknowledge and regret my lapse from propriety--

'Facilis descensus Averni.'

I have, however, been severely punished. I reclined on the steps where your constable found me, and immediately I sank into a slumber which, had it lasted for ever, would have afforded me a blissful immortality. Sweet visions of the past, retrospections of youthful joys, untainted by the errors and cares of the present, monopolised my imagination. A mother's lips were pressed to mine. A father's smile gladdened my heart. I had clasped a sister's hand, and a brother's arm encircled my neck. The home of my childhood arose before me, and the garden, with which my earliest recollections were associated, appeared in luxuriant, vernal beauty. The strong hand of your officer, firmly but not rudely applied, dispelled the delightful scene in which I was entranced, and recalled me to the sad reality of captivity and degradation. Have I not already suffered enough to justify the clemency which I implore?" The wretched man was cautioned and discharged.

Having been brought before me on four successive mornings, I told him that I would not permit his coming so frequently, and that I adjudged him to pay a shilling, or to be confined for twenty-four hours. Thereupon he replied, "I regret, my dear Mr. Porter, that on this occasion you do not manifest your usual equanimity. I acknowledge my fault, but I am not worse to-day than I was yesterday or any of the previous days. Moreover, I must respectfully submit that you are greatly mistaken in your remarks as to my _coming_ so often. I never _came_ before you or any magistrate. I was always _brought_. If the police will leave me as they find me, I shall never complain of their want of attention, nor shall I ever intrude on your presence. Strike off that paltry shilling, and let me depart once more." I told the constable to remove the prisoner, upon which he exclaimed, "If you are obdurate, and insist on marking a penalty, put five shillings on the sheet. It will look more respectable, and there is just the same chance of its payment."

Fisher continued a hopeless, persistent drunkard. With natural talents of no mean order, and with educational acquirements from which great and varied advantages might be expected, he lived despised and ridiculed, and afforded to those under whose occasional observation he came, a melancholy but certain proof that when a man's habits render him his own enemy, he becomes incapable of deriving any benefit from the friendship of others. On a winter's night in, I believe, 1856, Fisher betook himself to a limekiln in Luke Street. He lay down too near the edge and fell asleep, never to awake again in this world. Suffocated by the fumes of the kiln, his corpse, after an inquest and verdict of "accidental death," was consigned to a pauper's coffin, and was ultimately made a subject for anatomical demonstration. His fate was truly melancholy, but some salutary reflections may be derived from contemplating the final consequences of habitual and unrestrained intemperance.