such a deed could be done? For the reason that incredulity had been
so strong before, wild, haggard horror now sat on every countenance,
and froze the life-blood in every heart. Irishmen had lain quiescent,
persuaded that in this seventh decade of the nineteenth century, some
humanizing influences would be found to sway that power that in the
past, at least, had ever been so merciless to Irish victims. But now!
Alas!--

In that dreadful hour the gulf between the two nations seemed widened
and deepened, until it gaped and yawned wide, deep, and dark as hell
itself. There was a scowl on every brow. Men went about--sullen,
moody, silent, morose--with clenched teeth and darkened faces,
terrible passions raging in their bosoms. For all knew that the
sacrifice of those three Irish patriots was a cold-blooded and
cowardly act of English policy, more than a judicial proceeding--an
act of English panic, cowardice, hate, and terror. All knew that
Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien would never have been hanged on the
evidence of those forsworn witnesses, and on the verdict of that jury
whose perjury or blunder was openly confessed and proclaimed, but for
the political aspirations and designs of which the rescue was judged
to be an illustration. Had their offence been non-political, they
would not have been held a day on such a verdict. They were put
to death for their political opinions. They were put to death for
political reasons. Their execution was meant to strike terror into
Irishmen daring to mutter of liberty. Had they been Americans, like
Shore, they would have been respited; but as they were Irishmen, they
were immolated.

The full story of how those patriots met their fate at the last
reached Ireland two days afterwards, and intensified a thousandfold