Let us see what became of the Expedition. This was, of course, what has
since become a matter of history--the secret despatch from New York of
the brigantine "Erin's Hope," having on board several Irish-American
officers, 5,000 stand of arms, three pieces of field artillery, and
200,000 cartridges. About the middle of May the vessel arrived in Irish
waters, agents going aboard at various points off the coast, including
Sligo Bay, which she reached on the 20th of May, 1867. By that time it
was found that the chances of another Rising were but slender, and the
"Erin's Hope" returned to America with her cargo, entirely unmolested
by the British cruisers, which were plentiful enough around the Irish
coast.

The expedition certainly proved that sufficient weapons to commence an
insurrection with could be thrown into Ireland, providing there was the
necessary co-operation at the time and places required.

I have often thought since of what became of those present in Owen
McGrady's beer house the night we met there to prepare for the reception
of the "Erin's Hope."

The arrest and rescue of Kelly and Deasy, two of these, in the following
September, and the fate of their gallant rescuers, formed the most
striking and startling chapter of Irish history during the nineteenth
century.

That such a scheme as the rescue of the two Fenian chiefs should be
successfully carried out, not in Ireland amid sympathisers, but in the
heart of a great English city, surrounded by a hostile population,
showed unexpected capacity and daring on the part of the revolutionary
organisation, and produced consternation in the British Government.