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Its editor was Peter Finnerty, born of humble parentage at Loughrea, afterwards a famous parliamentary reporter for the London Morning Chronicle, and its most famous contributor was Dr. William Drennan, the poet, who first called Ireland "the Emerald Isle."
"That is not the man," said Mary Drennan. "Look again," said Chalmers. "Make no mistake." She turned to him and spoke calmly, quietly: "I am quite certain. That is not the man." "Damn!" said Chalmers. "The girl has failed us, after all. Take him away, sergeant!" Denis Ryan had covered his face with his hands when Mary spoke.
The men knew the locality in which they lived and knew the houses where there were arms. Sporting guns in many houses, revolvers in some, rifles in one or two. "There's a service rifle in Drennan's," said Murnihan, "that belonged to that nephew of his that was out in France, fighting for the English, and there's a double-barrelled shotgun there, too." "Drennan is no friend of ours," said a man.
And even if she did recognise one of them she'd be afraid to speak. In the state this country's in everyone is afraid to speak." "The girl won't be afraid," said Chalmers. "I know her father, and I knew her mother that's dead, and I know the girl. There never was a Drennan yet that was afraid to speak, I've sent the sergeant to fetch her.
He turned over the unknown Drennan in his mind. Was it because he was a good priest that the men liked him, or because they had discovered the man in the parson? The waiter brought in the breakfast porridge, fish, toast, and the rest and they fell to, a running fire of comments going on all the time. Donovan had had Japanese marmalade somewhere, and thought it better than this.
"Clear out of this, all of you!" he said, "And get home as quick as you can. Go across the fields, not by the roads!" The men stole out of the house. Only Denis and Murnihan were left, and Mary Drennan, and the dead woman. Murnihan took Denis by the arm and dragged him towards the door. Denis shook him off. He turned to where Mary kneeled on the ground.
She flung her arms up, half turned, and then collapsed, all crumpled up, to the ground. Mary Drennan sprang forward and bent over her. There was dead silence in the room. The men stood horror-stricken, mute, helpless. They had intended God knows what. To fight for liberty! To establish an Irish Republic! To prove themselves brave patriots! They had not intended this.
In '94, Archibald Hamilton Rowan, one of the purest and most chivalrous characters of any age, was convicted, by a packed jury, of circulating the famous "Universal Emancipation" address of his friend, Dr. William Drennan, the poet-politician of the party.
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