commander-in-chief, for the instant intervention of the military, had
any disturbances taken place. The troops were confined to barracks
since Saturday evening; they were kept in readiness to march at a
moment's notice; the horses of the cavalry were saddled all day long,
and those of the artillery were in harness. A battery of guns was in
the rere yard of the Four Courts, and mounted orderlies were
stationed at arranged points so as to convey orders to the different
barracks as speedily as possible. But, thanks to Providence, all
passed off quietly; the people seemed to feel the responsibility of
their position, and accordingly not even an angry word was to be
heard throughout the vast assemblage that for hours surged through
the highways of the city.

The _Ulster Observer_, in the course of a beautiful and sympathetic
article, touched on the great theme as follows:--

The main incidents of the singular and impressive event are worthy of
reflection. On a cold December morning, wet and dreary as any morning
in December might be, vast crowds assembled in the heart of Dublin to
follow to consecrated ground the empty hearses which bore the names
of the Irishmen whom England doomed to the gallows as murderers. The
air was piercingly chill, the rain poured down in torrents, the
streets were almost impassable from the accumulated pools of mingled
water and mud, yet 80,000 people braved the inclemency of the
weather, and unfalteringly carried out the programme so fervently
adopted. Amongst the vast multitude there were not only stalwart men,
capable of facing the difficulties of the day, but old men, who
struggled through and defied them; and, strangest of all, 'young
ladies, clothed in silk and velvet,' and women with tender children
by their sides, all of whom continued to the last to form a part of