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Updated: May 25, 2025
Soon the terrible band loomed up over the hill which bounded the view, when lo! the dreaded enemies were seen to be only a party of negroes, who had been working in the coal mines in the mountains somewhere. Some of Mitchel's men had destroyed the works, and the contrabands were brought here for safe keeping.
Everyone stood agape, saying the bishops must win in the end. An indiscretion on Ned's part gave them the victory. In a moment of excitement he was unwise enough to quote John Mitchel's words "that the Irish would be free long ago only for their damned souls."
Stopping once more to cut wires and tear up the track, we felt a thrill of exhilaration to which we had long been strangers. The track was now clear before us to Chattanooga; and even west of that city we had good reason to believe that we should find no other train in the way till we had reached Mitchel's lines.
Without wasting any time in talking, the three men hurried to the road that would take them past the Union lines and into the enemy country. A few minutes later a Sentry challenged them. Wilson produced his pass, the Sentry nodded and they went forward. As they pressed on across the strip of country between the Northern and Southern pickets, General Mitchel's army of ten thousand men broke camp.
It was generally understood, on the day before the trial, that the idea of a rescue was abandoned; and the trial commenced amidst gloomy presentiments and blighted hopes. After hours of quibbling and legal fencing, a jury was selected, by the crown, to convict. From the moment they went through the blasphemous process of swearing to give a true verdict, John Mitchel's fate was sealed.
And as our leak required less attention whilst the present easy weather continued, we sent our boats, with as many men as we could spare, to Captain Mitchel's assistance.
He was about twenty miles from Chattanooga he knew that from studying the map at Marietta. Mitchel's lines lay to the west, probably fifty miles away. To the north lay the flooded Tennessee River, which he would have to cross. And as for himself, he was shirtless and grimy with soot; he was almost without food, and dead tired.
Timmins, just as if she had been an Irish Attorney-General, and they so many Catholics on Mr. Mitchel's jury. Mrs. Fitzroy insisted that the party should be of her very best company. Funnyman, the great wit, was asked, because of his jokes; and Mrs. Butt, on whom he practises; and Potter, who is asked because everybody else asks him; and Mr.
Yes; and in such light we turn to read what Ruskin called the greatest inscription ever written, that which Herodotus tells us was raised over the Spartans, who fell at Thermopylæ, and which Mitchel's biographer quotes as most fitting to epitomise Mitchel's life: "Stranger, tell thou the Lacedemonians that we are lying here, having obeyed their words."
For this reason the history of their failure is brighter in literature than the tale of O'Connell's triumphs. To read Duffy's "Young Ireland" and Mitchel's "Jail Journal", with draughts from the Spirit of the Nation. is to relive the period. Without the Young Irelanders, Irish Nationalism might not have survived the Famine. Mitchel, as open advocate of physical force, became father to Fenianism.
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