There is much I could say, yet a man in my position cannot
help speaking. There are a thousand and one points affecting
me here, affecting my character as a man, affecting my life
and well-being, and he would be a hard-hearted man who could
blame me for speaking in strong terms. I feel that I have
within me the seeds of a disease that will soon put me into
an early grave, and I have within my breast the seeds of a
disease which will never allow me to see the expiration of my
imprisonment. It is, my lord, a disease, and I hope you will
allow me to speak on this subject, which has resulted from
the treatment I have been subjected to. I will pass over it as
rapidly as I can, because it is a nasty subject--Kilmainham.
But the treatment that I have received at Kilmainham--I will
not particularize any man, or the conduct of any man--has
been most severe, most harsh, not fit for a beast, much less
a human being. I was brought to Kilmainham, so far as I know,
without any warrant from the Lord Lieutenant. I was brought on
a charge the most visionary and airy. No man knew what I was.
No one could tell me or specify to me the charge on which I
was detained. I asked the magistrates at Dungarvan to advise
me of these charges. They would not tell me. At last I drove
them into such a corner as I might call it, that one of them
rose up and said, with much force, "You are a Fenian." Now, my
lords, that is a very accommodating word. If a man only breaks
a window now he is a Fenian. If I could bring, or if I had
only the means of bringing, witnesses from America, I would
have established my innocence here without a probability of
doubt. I would have brought a host of witnesses to prove that
Costello was not the centre of a circle in 1866. I would
have brought a host of witnesses to prove that he was not