A painting by Julien Dupre.

Offences and thefts from the archives of Black ’47

The following Times Past column by Jonathan Smyth looks at a robbery fended off by a woman with a pitchfork, and other crimes in Black '47.

During the Great Famine crimes were committed verbatim. In truth, motives for these crimes were driven by pure starvation. Hard times can make decent people do strange things. And there is nowt as odd as people, as somebody recently said to me. An unfed family, impoverished, and on the brink of death may not hesitate to steal a goose, or at a push, a cow. But in the eyes of your local magistrate, the law remained the law and when broken it needed a fitting punishment. Some might say it was a sadistic system. That is because it was absolutely cruel. Human rights were an unheard of concept. However, the churches and religious orders did have members who tried to intervene and seek improvements.

Everyday life was a whole different ball game in 19th century Ireland. The judicial system was English-based, and Ireland was under direct rule from London. Strong sentences passed by the courts concerning hardened criminals had justification. But there were vulnerable lawbreakers too, and the sentences passed on them erred on the side of overkill. Stealing a vegetable could earn you a neat one-way passage ticket to Van Diemen’s land or another similar prisoner colony. It was not so much ‘fun in the sun’ as taking part in a chain gang elegy. Like everywhere else in the county, the underbelly of Bailieborough society was an unsettled hotbed of intrigue, and robberies were a common feature of life in Black ’47. Most of the crimes from the Bailieborough district referenced in this week’s column were originally reported by The Anglo-Celt, on July 2, 1847.

First up, we have a young lad called Michael Fee, described by the newspaper as being nothing more than a ‘small boy’. On May 26, 1847, Michael carried out a robbery we are told. But, more than likely the child was put up to it by an adult. The little lad entered John Wright’s house at Candlecreeny and pilfered the homeowner’s pistol. The magistrate presumably peered down at the wee chap, then sentenced him to a month in a jail cell for stealing Wright’s weapon.

The next case involved ‘another little boy’ known as Thomas Martin. The minor pleaded guilty to stealing a horse’s ‘martingale’ on June 11, 1847. The stolen item belonged to Thomas Fitzpatrick from Cootehill. However, the court showed no leniency to Martin. The theft earned the child a full month’s imprisonment with the additional punishment of hard labour. Victorian society believed that extremely hard work would stop criminals returning to their ways when they left prison. The jail birds received a daily go at pointless jobs such as turning a crank wheel thousands of times in a day or turning a giant treadmill by walking on it with their fellow inmates, often for hours at a time.

Next, Mr Parr the well-known ‘Bailieborough publican’ found his earnings to be lower than usual due to the unscrupulous actions of a bartender. Patrick Bannon when questioned, pleaded guilty to the offence. The till in Parr’s bar was missing thirty shillings in silver on May 4, 1847. Elsewhere, Thomas Loraghan reported items stolen on May 20. Two likely lads legged it from Loraghan’s with an iron pot and an anvil. But the law eventually caught up with Pat McGovern and John Corbet. Both received a full six months in prison with hard labour.

Pitchfork in hand

Burglary by petty criminals is unpleasant and in Black ’47 Mr and Mrs James Coffey experienced a visit by a couple of would-be thieves. The court reporter commented that: ‘The prosecutor and his wife deserve great praise for the very courageous and gallant defence which they made against the attack of the prisoners, and others who assisted them, by which they defeated the object of the burglars.’ The prisoners arrested for the crime were John Weldon and John Crawford.

Things took a dramatic turn when the Coffeys heard two men outside their home. Mrs Coffey headed for the only back entrance, which was a window. Armed with a pitchfork she gave hell to the unsuspecting robber. Her husband grabbed a hatchet and confronted the second ruffian at the front door. Neighbours appear to have heard the commotion and came to help. The judge demonstrated his displeasure towards the would-be robbers. He sentenced them each to ‘ten years transportation’. Time spent in a penal colony would certainly knock the edges off them.

On May 17, 1847, John Hickey of Dromud, near Shercock, discovered his goat was missing. A young lad called John Corrigan was indicted for stealing the animal. The solicitor did not have enough evidence. The newspaper reported that, ‘Mr. Benjamin Armstrong, local crown solicitor, made an application to have the prisoner given in charge and acquitted, as he ascertained that he could not support the indictment by legal evidence.’ However, John Corrigan does not seem destined to have gone free. The boy pleaded guilty and when they asked Mr Gallogly to release him, he said he could not. The boy had refused to plead not guilty, said the gaoler.

The jury then acquitted Corrigan. Gallogly then stated that the jury did not believe Corrigan was guilty, which seemed to relieve the gaoler’s conscience. In the end, the last word was left to John Corrigan, who seemed an honest enough person who responded: - ‘Well, then I know better than them, that I am guilty.’

The cases before the court in Bailieborough Quarter Sessions were plentiful that summer. The newspaper noted that ‘the calendar was very heavy’ and included ninety-six crown numbers, voter registrations, and 1,400 civil bills.’

It is important to keep in mind, two lessons. Firstly, that most crimes before the courts that year were conducted by a destitute people. Secondly, you should never cross a woman with a pitchfork.

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