I shall trespass no longer upon the patience for which I am grateful;-one word only, and I have done. And that is, once more, earnestly and solemnly to conjure you to reflect, that the fact-I mean the fact of guilt or innocence, which must be the foundation of this bill,-is not now, after the death of the party, capable of being tried, consistently with the liberty of a free people, or the unalterable rules of eternal justice.

And as to the forfeiture and the ignominy which it enacts, that only can be punishment which lights upon guilt; and that can be only vengeance which breaks upon INNOCENCE!!

33*

SPEECH OF MR. CURRAN

IN BEHALF OF

MR. JOHN HEVEY, (PLAINTIFF,)

ON AN ACTION FOR AN ASSAULT, AND FALSE IMPRISONMENT

CHARLES HENRY SIRR, Esq. (DEFENDANT.)

COURT OF KING'S BENCH, MONDAY, MAY 17th, 1802.

MR. CURRAN then stated the case for the plaintiff, in substance nearly to the following effect:

He began by telling the jury, it was the most extraordinary action he had ever met with. It must have proceeded from the most unexampled impudence in the plaintiff, if he has brought it wantonly, or the most unparalleled miscreancy in the defendant, if it shall appear supported by proof. And the event must stamp the most condign and indelible disgrace on the guilty defendant, unless an unworthy verdict should shift the scandal upon another quarter. On the record, the action, he said, appeared short and simple; it was an action of trespass, vi et armis, for an assault, battery, and false imprisonment. But the facts that led to it, that explain its nature, and its enormity, and of course, that should measure the damages, were neither short nor simple; the novelty of them might surprise, the atrocity must shock their feelings, if they had feelings to be shocked :--but, he said, he did not mean to address himself to any of their proud feelings of liberty; the season for that was past. There was, indeed, he said, a time, when, in addressing a jury upon very inferior violations of human rights, he had felt his bosom glow and swell with the noble and elevating consciousness of being a free-man, speaking to free-men, and in a free country; where, if he was not

able to communicate the generous flame to their bosoms, he was not at least so cold as not to catch it from them. But that was

a sympathy, which he was not now so foolish as to affect, either to inspire or to participate. He would not insult them by the bitter mockery of such an affectation; buried as they were, he did not wish to conjure up the shades of departed freedom to flutter round their tomb, to haunt or to reproach them. Where freedom is no more, it is a mischievous profanation to use her language; because it tends to deceive the man who is no longer free, upon the most important of all points, that is, the nature of the situation to which he is reduced; and to make him confound the licentiousness of words with the real possession of freedom. He meant not therefore, he said, to call for a haughty verdict, that might humble the insolence of oppression, or assert the fancied rights of independence. Far from it; he only asked for such a verdict, as might make some reparation for the most extreme and unmerited suffering, and might also tend to some probable mitigation of the public and general destiny. For this purpose, he said, he must carry back their attention to the melancholy period of 1798. It was at that sad crisis, that the defendant, from an obscure individual, started into notice and consequence. It is in the hot-bed of public calamity, that such portentous and inauspicious products are accelerated without being matured. From being a town-major, a name scarcely legible in the list of public incumbrances, he became at once invested with all the real powers of the most absolute authority. The life and the liberty of every man seemed to be given up to his disposal. With this gentleman's extraordinary elevation began the story of the sufferings and ruin of the plaintiff.

It seems, a man of the name of M'Guire was prosecuted for some offence against the state. Mr. Hevey, the plaintiff, by accident was in court; he was then a citizen of wealth and credit, a brewer in the first line of that business. Unfortunately for him, he had heretofore employed the witness for the prosecution, and found him a man of infamous character. Unfortunately for himself he mentioned this circumstance in court. The counsel for the prisoner insisted on his being sworn; he was so. The jury were convinced, that no credit was due to the witness for the crown, and the prisoner was accordingly acquitted. In a day or two after, Major Sirr met the plaintiff in the street, asked

how he dared to interfere in his business? and swore by God he would teach him how to meddle with "his people." Gentlemen, said Mr. Curran, there are two sorts of prophets: one that derives its source from real or fancied inspiration, and who are sometimes mistaken. But there is another class, who prophesy what they are determined to bring about themselves. Of this second, and by far the most authentic class, was the major; for heaven, you see, has no monopoly of prediction. On the following evening, poor Hevey was dogged in the dark into some lonely alley; there he was seized, he knew not by whom, nor by what authority-and became in a moment, to his family, and his friends, as if he had never been. He was carried away in equal ignorance of his crime, and of his destiny; whether to be tortured, or hanged, or transported. His crime he soon learned; it was the treason which he had committed against the majesty of major Sirr. He was immediately conducted to a new place of imprisonment in the castle-yard, called the provost. Of this mansion of misery, of which you have since heard so much, major Sandys was, and I believe yet is, the keeper: a gentleman of whom I know how dangerous it is to speak; and of whom every prudent man will think and talk with all due reverence. He seemed a twin-star of the defendant-equal in honour, in confidence; equal also (for who could be superior?) in probity and humanity. To this gentleman was my client consigned, and in his custody he remained about seven weeks, unthought of by the world, as if he had never existed. The oblivion of the buried is as profound as the oblivion of the dead; his family may have mourned his absence or his probable death; but why should I mention so paltry a circumstance? The fears, or the sorrows of the wretched give no interruption to the general progress of things. The sun rose and the sun set, just as it did before-the business of the government, the business of the castle, of the feast, or the torture, went on with their usual exactness and tranquillity. At last Mr. Hevey was discovered among the sweepings of the prison; and was at last to be disposed of. He was at last honoured with the personal notice of major Sandys.-" Hevey, (says the major,) I have seen you ride, I think, a smart sort of a mare; you can't use her here; you had better give me an order for her.” The plaintiff, you may well suppose, by this time had a tolerable idea of his situation; he thought he might have much to fear

from a refusal, and something to hope from compliance; at all events, he saw it would be a means of apprizing his family that he was not dead:-he instantly gave the order required. The major graciously accepted it, saying, your courtesy will not cost you much; you are to be sent down to-morrow to Kilkenny to be tried for your life; you will most certainly be hanged; and you can scarcely think that your journey to the other world will be performed on horseback. The humane and honourable major was equally a prophet with his compeer. The plaintiff on the next day took leave of his prison, as he supposed, for the last time, and was sent under a guard to Kilkenny, then the head quarters of sir Charles Asgil, there to be tried by a court-martial for such crime as might chance to be alleged against him. In any other country, the scene that took place on that occasion might excite no little horror and astonishment; but with us, these sensations are become extinguished by frequency of repetition. I am instructed, that a proclamation was sent forth, offering a reward to any man, who would come forward, and give any evidence against the traitor Hevey. An unhappy wretch, who had been shortly before condemned to die, and was then lying ready for execution, was allured by the proposal. His integrity was not firm enough to hesitate long, between the alternative proposed; pardon, favour, and reward, with perjury, on one side; the rope and the gibbet on the other. His loyalty decided the question against his soul. He was examined, and Hevey was appointed by the sentence of a mild, and, no doubt, enlightened court-martial, to take the place of the witness, and succeedea to the vacant halter. Hevey, you may suppose (continued Mr. Curran,) now thought his labours at an end; but he was mistaken his hour was not yet come. You are probably, gentlemen, or you, my lords, are accounting for his escape, by the fortunate recollection of some early circumstances that might have smote upon the sensibility of sir Charles Asgil, and made him believe, that he was in debt to providence for the life of one innocent though convicted victim. But it was not so; his escape was purely accidental. The proceedings upon this trial happened to meet the eye of lord Cornwallis. The freaks of fortune are not always cruel; in the bitterness of her jocularity, you see she can adorn the miscreancy of the slave, in the trappings of power, and rank, and wealth. But her playfulness is not always