The Mammoth Book of Unsolved Crimes

“People who like legal mysteries and the arts of the literary detective”-the phrase is Andrew Lang’s-can hardly fail to appreciate the Kirwan case. It presents a puzzle sufficiently perplexing to intrigue even a blasé taste, and to stimulate the Sherlockian spirit that sleeps in the bosom of the most blameless of Watsons. It is, in the first place, a trial for murder quite out of the common run. The circumstances of the crime, if crime in fact there was, were at the time unprecedented: the drowning of a wife by her husband; and they remained unparalleled in our annals until the revelations made upon a trial in 1915, when one Mr Smith was found to have eclipsed the achievement of his forerunner of the fifties by drowning no less than three wives in succession. But the quantitative element apart, the earlier case is much the more interesting and instructive. Smith was a mere mechanic, ingenious if you will, and clever at his job; a capable craftsman enough, but lacking imagination and the sense of style. Instead of making his first success a stepping stone to higher things, he was so stupid as to stereotype his method. Further, none but his counsel, ex officio, was ever known to doubt his guilt, whereas many have maintained the innocence of his predecessor. The staging, too, of the respective tragedies differed markedly in scenic effectiveness. Smith’s theatre was the domestic bathroom of drab lodgings in mean streets; Kirwan’s, a desolate island of the sea. As to motive, Smith was but a footpad, murdering for money; Kirwan’s act, if he indeed committed it, was of the passionate cast so tenderly regarded by the law-courts of France.

The astute reader will notice that I have safeguarded myself from pronouncing upon Mr Kirwan’s guilt. It was an Irish case, vehemently discussed; and although the passage of some seventy years ought to have cooled the ashes of that old controversy, I am not going to take any risks. Convicted by a Dublin jury, with the approval of two eminent judges of the Irish bench, the prisoner after a three days’ trial was duly sentenced to death. The tide of public opinion, which had set strongly against the accused man from the start, then turned in his favour, and as the result of much popular agitation the question was begged in the usual British fashion-how we love a compromise!-the extreme penalty was remitted, and the convict was sent to Spike Island for life. All of which pleased nobody and left the subject in dispute precisely where it was before.

Personally, in the matter of alleged judicial errors I am rather sceptical. Miscarriages of justice have, of course, from time to time occurred, owing to the fallibility of the human agents, but this danger is now discounted by the opportunity provided for review by a competent tribunal. It may be that a Court of Criminal Appeal, had such been available, might on the merits have reversed the jury’s finding. Certainly, it was a narrow case; the evidence was purely circumstantial and called for very nice and cautious estimation; had the trial happened to be held in Scotland, our national via media of Not Proven would probably have been followed. In hearing, reading, or writing about these cases I always feel how much there is behind the scenes that one ought to know in order to arrive at a fully informed judgment; how much that, by reason of sundry rules of the game played by counsel with the prisoner’s life for stake, is never allowed to come out in court. Thus in the present instance we know next to nothing of the personality of the man, upon which the solution of the problem so largely depends, or apart from the evidence of a single quarrel are we told anything of his usual relations with his wife. The second “Mrs Kirwan” is not produced, and on the important question as to the lawful wife’s knowledge of her rival’s claims, or even of her existence, we have no information beyond the opposed statements of the contending counsel. Relatives and family friends could have dispelled these doubts and also have settled the vital matter of the dead lady’s general health and habits: the Crown representing her as a perfectly sound, healthy woman; the defence, as an epileptic. Again, she is alleged at once to have been a strong and daring swimmer, and not to have been able to swim a stroke! Upon these and many other points the state of the proof is disappointingly nebulous. The medical evidence, too, is unsatisfactory and inconclusive. The conditions were plainly unfavourable, but surely nowadays science should be equal to giving a more decisive answer. What weighs most with me is the conduct of Mr Kirwan himself, in the brief glimpses we get of him on the island and after his return to Howth. And those dreadful screams, heard over the water by the five witnesses, re-echo across the years today in a very ugly and suggestive manner for such as have ears to hear.

A mile off the harbour of Howth, in County Dublin, lies the little island with the picturesque name: Ireland’s Eye. Visitors to that agreeable watering place are in the habit of taking a boat to the romantic and rocky isle, lying so invitingly in view out in the sea, for purposes “not unconnected”, as the newspapers say, with picnics. A ruined chapel of St Nessan, a Martello tower, a fine stretch of beach, a beautiful and extensive prospect: these form the chief attractions. Upon the seaward side a narrow creek or gully, called the Long Hole, will claim our special attention later. Altogether it is a pleasant spot in which to while away the hours of a summer day, and the last place one would associate with a treacherous and cruel crime.

At ten a.m. on Monday, 6th September, 1852, two persons embarked at the harbour in the boat of a local fisherman named Patrick Nangle. They had with them a bag and a hand-basket, their object being to spend the day upon the island, as they had already done on two or three former occasions. The stout, dark man of about five-and-thirty was Mr William Burke Kirwan, an artist; the handsome, well-made woman of thirty was his wife, Maria Louisa Kirwan; the bag contained the materials of his art, together with the bathing costume, cap, and bath sheet of his spouse, a constant and enthusiastic bather; the basket held provision for an exiguous al fresco meal. Married for twelve years and without a family, the Kirwans lived at No. 11 Upper Merrion Street, Dublin. They were then staying in summer lodging at Howth, where they had been for some six weeks; and as they were to return to Dublin on the morrow, this was their last excursion.

A commonplace couple enough, one would say; and yet Mr Kirwan’s domestic habits present on closer acquaintance certain singular features. Though then on holiday, it was his custom, in his landlady’s phrase, to “sleep out” three times a week, going on these occasions to Dublin and returning to Howth next day. Such periodic abstentions from the family bosom were not, as one might suppose, due to the exigencies of his profession as an anatomical draughtsman and furnisher of coloured maps in the city. No; during the whole period of his married life Mr Kirwan had been leading what is figuratively termed a double life. He kept a mistress, one Teresa Kenny, by whom he had no fewer than seven children, and he maintained his Hagar and her brood in a house in Sandymount, a suburb of Dublin, provided her with a servant, and endowed her with the style and title of “Mrs Kirwan”. To what extent his legitimate lady was aware of this redundant ménage, and if she knew of it, how she viewed the pluralistic peculiarities of her lord, there is no proof. Upon this point the prosecuting counsel thus addressed the jury:

“It so happened, or was so managed, that neither Maria Kirwan nor Teresa Kenny had either of them the least notion or idea of each other’s existence until a comparatively recent period… These facts, gentlemen, will appear in the evidence; nay, more, with such consummate art was this system of double deception carried on, that it was only within the last six months that either of these two women became aware of the fact that each had a rival in the prisoner’s affections.”

Not only did these facts not appear in the evidence, but counsel for the defence in his speech declared:

“The connection alluded to was not a new one; his wife knew of it and forgave it, and she and her husband were reconciled.”

Here, again, no evidence is produced in support of this statement, and we must choose between the ipse dixit of learned counsel on each side of the bar. Whether or not an attractive young wife would be likely to acquiesce in such an arrangement is for the reader to judge, according to his experience of human nature.

Despite the famous dictum of Mr Justice Stephen in the Maybrick case, adultery of itself is not necessarily an incitement to murder. If it were so, I am afraid our criminal courts would be sadly congested and the hangman would be worked to death. The domestic atmosphere of the Kirwan home, however, is unusually dense, and does need more light than the trial affords. As we shall find, the husband had been heard of late to beat and abuse his wife, and even to threaten her life, acts which exceed the customary amenities of the married state. But more of this later: we are keeping our pleasure-seekers waiting.

They landed below the Martello tower at the north-west corner of the isle, and the boatman was instructed to return for them at eight o’clock-a long day, and a late hour for the autumn season; the sun set that evening at six thirty-six. At noon Nangle’s boat came again to the island, bringing over another family party, who remained there till four o’clock. During the day these people saw the Kirwans, singly and together, at various times and places, but did not speak to them. When leaving in the afternoon for Howth one of the party, observing that the lady looked intently after the boat, called to her did she wish to go ashore; but she answered no, the men were to come back for her at eight. So for the next four hours this man and woman remained alone together upon the isle. What passed between them can never be known; no human eye could see how they employed their time, nor watch the act which certainly brought about the violent death of one of them. But human ears, by a strange chance, heard something of that un-witnessed tragedy. The shadows lengthened, the daylight waned, there was a heavy shower about six o’clock, and still silence brooded over the island, wrapped in the gathering dusk. At seven o’clock a fishing boat, making for Howth harbour, passed Ireland’s Eye to the west of the isle, within ten perches of the Martello tower. She was a hooker of thirty-eight tons, with a crew of nine men, of whom one only was then on deck: the steersman, Thomas Larkin. It was “between day and dark”. As the boat glided by before a light north-west breeze-the night was quiet and there was no sea-Larkin was startled by a loud scream, “a great screech”, from the direction of the Eye. No one was visible on the shore, though there was light enough in the sky for him to have seen anyone there. In five or six minutes, during which the boat increased her distance, he heard a second scream, but lower; and two minutes afterwards, more faintly, a third. The boat was by then half way to the harbour. The cries were like those of a person in distress; he mentioned the matter at the time to his mates, who being below heard nothing. Night had fallen when they reached Howth.

Other four people on the mainland severally heard these cries. Alicia Abernethy lived at Howth, near the harbour. Her house was directly opposite the Long Hole, a mile off across the water. That evening she called upon her next-door neighbour to ask the time, and was told it was five minutes past seven. She returned, and while leaning over her garden wall, looking towards the Long Hole on the Eye-“it was between the two lights” and she could just see the island-she heard “a dreadful screech, as of a person in agony and pain”. She then heard another, not so loud, and next a weaker one. The cries, she thought, were those of a woman. She told her family about them that night. Catherine Flood, employed in a house on the quay of Howth, was standing at the hall door at five or six minutes past seven, when she heard “great screams” from Ireland’s Eye. The first was the loudest-“a very wild scream”; the last was cut off in the middle. There was a minute or two between them. John Barrett, from the door of his house at the east pier, heard about seven o’clock “screeches abreast the harbour”. Going over to the pier, he heard two or three more; they declined in loudness and seemed to come from Ireland’s Eye. Hugh Campbell, “between day and dark”, was leaning over the quay wall, when he heard from the direction of the island three cries, “resembling the calling of a person for assistance”; some three minutes elapsed between the cries, which became successively weaker. Half an hour later he saw Nangle’s boat leave the harbour and go over to the island. [20] He had often before heard voices from the Eye.

These five persons were all reputable folk of the place, credible witnesses, whose testimony cross-examination failed to shake. So we have the fact clearly proved that about seven o’clock that night there rang out upon that little isle three lamentable screams of terror and distress, so piercing as to be audible a mile off upon the mainland. Yet Mr Kirwan, rendered deaf by anxiety for, or indifference to the fate of his vanished wife, or wholly engrossed with his sketch-book in making the most of the failing light, as appears, heard nothing.

At twenty minutes to eight o’clock Patrick Nangle, and his cousin Michael, accompanied by other two men, left Howth harbour as arranged to bring back the pleasure-seekers. The boat reached the island about eight o’clock, and landed close to the tower. It was then getting very dark and they saw nothing of their party; but on their calling out, the voice of Mr Kirwan replied: “Nangle, come up for the bag.” Patrick went ashore; he found Mr Kirwan standing by himself on the bank and received from him his bag and sketch-book. Patrick, taking these down to the boat, met Michael going up, who, seeing Mr Kirwan coming towards the boat and finding he was alone, at once exclaimed, “Where is the mistress?”

“I have not seen her for the last hour and a half,” was the reply.

“Sir,” said Michael, “you should have had the mistress here, and not have to be looking for her at this hour of the night; what way did she go?”

“She went that way,” said Mr Kirwan, pointing in the direction of the Long Hole. “I was sketching at the time. She left me after the last shower. She did not like to bathe where I told her to bathe, because there was a bad smell there.” Michael and Mr Kirwan then went to look for her along the strand, Patrick going back to the boat. “Maria, why don’t you answer?” called her husband. “The boat is waiting.” Michael too kept calling “Mrs Kirwan!” but there was no response. Their search included the Long Hole, so far as the state of the tide permitted, and while there Michael could hear Patrick hailing from beside the tower. [21] Returning, they found he had been equally unsuccessful. “This is a fine job,” said Michael, “to be here at this hour of the night! Where are we to find this woman? Let us leave the other two men in the boat and we will go round again; if Mrs Kirwan comes in the meantime, they can go on the top of the bank and hail us.” The three then started to retrace their steps. Descending the rocks into the Long Hole Mr Kirwan stumbled and fell. At that instant Patrick Nangle cried out that he saw “something white” below.

The Long Hole is an inlet, some 360 feet in length, narrow at the entrance and wider towards the head, enclosed by steep banks and frowned upon by cliffs. From low to high-water mark the distance is 163 feet. This area is divided into two channels by a large rock in the middle, 22 feet high, on which the tide rises on the landward side about a foot at high water. The surrounding strand is of coarse gravel, interspersed with lesser rocks, and 12 feet above low-water mark a low barrier of these stretches across the channel, here 28 feet in breadth. Just within this barrier, at the base of the southeastern side of the gully, is a small rock, 3 feet long and 12 inches high, upon which was found the body of the dead lady.

The tide was out. She lay upon her back, the head hanging down over the edge against the barrier rock, the arms extended, the knees bent, and the feet in a shallow pool. Her wet bathing dress was gathered up about her armpits, leaving the whole body exposed, and beneath her was a wet bathing sheet, upon which she partly lay. Her bathing cap was missing-it was found a fortnight later at high-water mark, the strings tied in a tight knot-but she wore bathing boots; seaweed and gravel were entangled in her hair. The body was still quite warm and flexible. The mouth was frothing; there was blood upon the face, blood upon the breasts, and blood was flowing from the ears and from other parts. Patrick, for decency, adjusted the bathing dress, straightened the arms and legs, and tied the sheet twice about her at the neck and knees, all before Michael and Mr Kirwan, who had been searching the other side of the cove, came up. “Mr Kirwan said ‘Oh, Maria, Maria!’ ” and told the men to look for her clothes: “we would get them there on the rock”-pointing to the high centre rock before mentioned. Patrick went up and searched as directed, but could find nothing. Mr Kirwan then went up himself, and coming back in a few minutes with a shawl and “something white” in his hand, bade Patrick go up again, which the latter did. This time he at once found the clothes in a place where he had already looked without result: “I had searched the very same place before and did not find them.” The shawl was then wrapped about the head; what the “something white” was we shall see in the sequel. Patrick next proposed that the boat be brought round for the body, so he and Michael left accordingly. Mr Kirwan refused to go, and threw himself upon the corpse. It was now about nine o’clock and it took them an hour to fetch the boat; when they reached the Long Hole they found Mr Kirwan just as they had left him, “lying with his face on the breast of the body”. The remains, wrapped in a sail, were carried to the boat by one of the men, who got wet up to the knees during the operation, but none of the others got wet, nor according to them did Mr Kirwan, who took no part.

Arrived at Howth the body of Mrs Kirwan was taken on a dray to her lodgings and laid on the floor of her room. Mrs Campbell, the landlady, was short-sighted and much upset: she did not examine it closely; but she saw that Mr Kirwan’s legs were wet, and she helped him to change his stockings. Other three women in the house that night proved that his boots, stockings, drawers and trousers were wet, and that as he sat on a chair by the kitchen fire drying them, water dripped from him on to the door. These dames-one, Mrs Lacy, was a sick-nurse of forty years’ standing-were ordered by him to wash the body. When they pointed out to him that the police would not allow it to be touched until an inquest was held, the bereaved husband made this remarkable retort: “I don’t care a damn for the police; the body must be washed!” So washed it accordingly was, and laid out as for burial before it was seen by a medical man. Whatever the propriety and whatever the motive of Mr Kirwan’s action there is no doubt that it resulted in the loss of very valuable evidence. The washing was done by Anne Lacy and Catherine M’Garr, one taking the right, the other the left side, while Mary Robinson held a candle. The account given by these women of the appearances noted by them is of the last importance. There was a large quantity of blood on the sail where the lower part of the body had lain. The body was quite limber.

“The face was covered with blood; the blood came from a cut about the eyes, and on the cheek and forehead; the ears were also loaded with blood, which was still running from the inside of them; I sponged and washed the ears, but the blood continued flowing afterwards for nearly half an hour; I had to put a flannel petticoat to prevent it flowing down.”

There was a cut on the right breast, which bled freely, and a discharge of blood, which was not natural, from another part. The right side of the body was black from shoulders to feet. The lips were much swollen, the eyes “as red as blood”, the neck was slightly twisted. The body was healthy looking and finely formed: “she was a beautiful creature”. Thus Mrs Lacy, whose long experience gives weight to her testimony. Mrs M’Garr noticed wounds about the eyes, “as if torn”. The nose was “crooked”, the lips swelled and covered with slime, blood flowed from the ears, the left breast, and from another part. Mary Robinson observed that the eyes were bloodshot and the ears bleeding. These details, though repellent, are essential to a determination of how this lady came by her death.

Between one and two o’clock on the following day, Tuesday, 7 September, by order of the Coroner the body was professionally examined. Of distinguished members of the faculty there was then, as now, no lack in County Dublin, and it seems unfortunate that the duty was entrusted to a medical student named Hamilton, who stated his qualifications as “having been attending lectures during the last six years”. He made what he himself describes as “a superficial examination”, the result of which will presently appear, and having no reason to suspect foul play, he assumed it to be a case of simple drowning and reported accordingly. The inquiry opened later in the afternoon before Mr Coroner Davis, the authorities having apparently no suspicion that the death was other than fortuitous. The Nangle cousins were examined. “Mr Kirwan took an active part in the investigation,” said the Coroner at the subsequent trial; “I remember his interrupting one of the witnesses who was giving his testimony; I do not remember what he said to him; I believe the witness in question was one of the Nangles.” Now, as appears from the evidence of Patrick Nangle at the trial, just as he was beginning to tell the Coroner about the sheet and the finding of the clothes, he was interrupted by Mr Kirwan and was “put back”, another witness being called. Thus as to these most material facts he “was not allowed to speak”. The evidence of Mr Kirwan was as follows:

“I am an artist, residing at No. 11 Upper Merrion Street, Dublin. The deceased lady, Maria Kirwan, was my wife; I was married to her about nine or ten years. I have been living with Mrs Kirwan in Howth for five or six weeks. I was in the habit of going over to Ireland’s Eye as an artist. Mrs Kirwan used to accompany me; she was very fond of bathing, and while I would be sketching she would amuse herself roaming about or bathing. Yesterday we went over as usual. She bathed at the Martello tower on going over, but could not stay long in the water as the boatmen were to bring another party to the island. She left me in the latter part of the day, about six o’clock, to bathe again. She told me she would walk round the hill after bathing and meet me at the boat. I did not see her alive afterwards, and only found the body as described by the sailors.”

It will be observed that no mention was made by Mr Kirwan of the three screams, and that he did not allege, as was later done in his behalf, that his wife was subject to epilepsy. The five witnesses who heard the cries had not then come forward. Neither the landlady nor the women who washed the corpse were examined. Upon these insufficient premises the jury founded a verdict of accidental death. Unfortunately for the ends of justice, a grave was chosen in the wettest part of the cemetery at Glasnevin, the remains of Mrs Kirwan were buried there, and the affair seemed in a fair way to be forgotten.

If Mr Kirwan was innocent of his wife’s death he was curiously unlucky in his reputation. The fact that he had a mistress with seven children became generally known and raised a strong prejudice against him in the public mind. He was even said to have committed bigamy with her, but the woman, as appears, was merely a chronic concubine. One Mrs Byrne, his next-door neighbour in Dublin, did not scruple to promulgate his guilt. Indeed, this lady had foretold the event: “Kirwan had taken his wife to some strange place to destroy her”; and being but human, she was naturally gratified by the fulfilment of her prophecy. She further alleged that “Bloody Billy”, as she impolitely termed him, had murdered her own husband. Two other charges of murder were also brought against Mr Kirwan in the Dublin Press. It was there stated:

1.

That in 1837, he, Kirwan, burglariously entered Bowyer’s house in Mountjoy Street, and carried away Bowyer’s property, which he converted to his own use; and that for this offence he was tried before the Recorder, and only escaped upon a point of law.

2.

That having thus obtained possession of Bowyer’s property he murdered him.

3.

That in order to keep Mrs Bowyer quiet, he paid her an annuity of forty pounds a year, blood money.

Whatever be the truth as to these allegations, it is plain that Mrs Bowyer, like Father Paul of the Bab Ballads, did such things “singularly cheap”. The other charge of murder related to his brother-in-law, Mr Crowe. “That Kirwan murdered him, according to the statement of the parties preferring the charges, was beyond all doubt, because he accompanied him to Liverpool, and Crowe was not heard of since.”

The Nangles and the nurses talked of the amount of blood they had seen about the body, and the report spread that the deceased had been done to death with a sword cane. Then Mrs Kirwan had been a Catholic and her husband was a Protestant, facts which in Ireland are still of more than spiritual import, and belief in Mr Kirwan’s guilt or innocence became largely a matter of faith. Finally, the authorities realized that the case was one which called for further investigation, so the body was ordered to be exhumed. On 6 October-thirty-one days after death-Dr George Hatchell, assisted by Dr Tighe, made a post-mortem examination, the results of which will presently appear. The coffin was found to be lying in two and a half feet of water, due to the dampness of the soil. Following upon the doctors’ report Mr Kirwan was apprehended on a charge of murder. The warrant was executed at his own house in Dublin, where the police found Miss Kenny and her young brood installed in the dead wife’s room.

The trial, originally fixed for November, was at the instance of the accused postponed, and did not open till Wednesday, 8 December 1852, when it took place before a Commission of Oyer and Terminer held at Green Street, Dublin, the presiding Judges being the Hon. Philip C. Crampton and the Right Hon. Richard W. Greene. John George Smyly, QC, Edmund Hayes, QC, and John Pennefather conducted the prosecution; Isaac Butt, QC, Walter Burke, QC, William W. Brereton, QC, and John A. Curran appeared for the defence. The charge against the accused was that on 6 September, at Ireland’s Eye in the county of Dublin, he “did wilfully, feloniously, and of his malice prepense kill and murder one Maria Louisa Kirwan”, to which he pleaded “Not Guilty”. Mr Smyly, in the absence of the Attorney-General, having opened the case for the Crown, proceeded to call witnesses in support of the indictment.

The first was Alfred Jones, surveyor, who had prepared plans of the locus and made certain calculations and measurements at the Long Hole. The place where the clothes were found was about the middle of the central rock, 5 ft 6 in. above the strand, and at high tide 1 ft 6 in. out of the water. On 6 September it was high water at three-thirty p.m., and at that hour there would be 7 ft of water over the “body” rock; at six-thirty 2 ft 6 in.; at seven, 1 ft 9 in.; at seven-fifteen, 1 ft 4½ in.; at seven-thirty, 1 ft; at eight, 3 in.; and at nine-thirty the tide would be 2 ft below the “body” rock. The distance from the Martello Tower to the Long Hole was 835 yds; from where Mr Kirwan was standing when the boat arrived, 792 yds. Cross-examined by Mr Butt, a person about to bathe might step down to the strand from the rock where the clothes were found.

Mrs Margaret Campbell told how the Kirwans came to her as lodgers in June, and of Mr Kirwan’s habit of absenting himself three nights a week. During the first month of their stay she noticed quarreling between them more than once.

“I heard angry words from Mr Kirwan to his wife. I heard him say he would make her stop there; I heard him miscall her; I heard him call her a strumpet. I heard him say ‘I’ll finish you!’ I do not think they had been a month with me at that time. On the same evening I heard her say to him, ‘Let me alone, let me alone!’ Next morning I heard her say to him she was black from the usage she had got the preceeding night-across her thighs.”

Witness heard a rush in their room, and “thought he beat her”. There was no one else in the house at the time except Anne Hanna, who was with witness in the kitchen. Mrs Kirwan used to bathe every day at the ladies’ bathing place. She was in good health all the time she was at Howth. On the Thursday and Friday before her death she and her husband spent the day on Ireland’s Eye, returning home about nine o’clock. Mrs Campbell then described the bringing back of the body, and the condition of Mr Kirwan’s nether garments, as before narrated. Cross-examined by Mr Butt, she had heard them quarrelling at different times; it was on the first occasion that she heard the threatening language; subsequently “they had an odd word now and again”; he never used violence but the once. She had heard Mrs Kirwan’s mother, Mrs Crowe, caution her not to be too venturesome in bathing.

Anne Hanna, who washed for Mrs Kirwan, corroborated as regards the first quarrel. She heard the furniture being knocked about, and a man’s voice say: “I’ll end you, I’ll end you!”

Patrick Nangle described the happenings on the island, with which we are already acquainted. When he recovered the sail in which the body had been wrapped, he found a great deal of blood on it: “I had to scrub it with a broom.” Cross-examined by Mr Brereton, he was sure the body was not stiff when found; none of the limbs was stiff. There were several scratches about the eyes. The mouth was frothing. Blood flowed from the lower part of the body. The scratches could not have been caused by crabs; there were no crabs where the body lay. Mr Kirwan did not say, when he (witness) saw him on the bank, that his wife must be in the boat. There was no swell that night to bruise the body. The injuries could not have occurred by scraping on the gravel. The sheet was under the body when he found it; he saw no shawl until he came back with the boat. He did not care how dark it was: he had searched the rock and found nothing, where, after Mr Kirwan had gone up, he found the clothes. He demanded and got two pounds for his trouble that night. No one could have been on the island after four o’clock without his knowledge. Mr Kirwan could not have got wet in the pool where the feet lay: there was not enough water in it.

Michael Nangle gave his version of the facts, which, with one exception, tallied with that given by Patrick. He had never before heard of ladies bathing at the Long Hole; the rocks were sharp and dangerous. He looked for the clothes along the strand; Patrick searched the rock. Mr Kirwan came down “bringing down something white in his hand like a sheet, and also a shawl”. Witness did not see the body closely till the next day; he only saw the face, on which were cuts or scratches. Mr Kirwan did not get wet while in their company. The water in the Long Hole was as smooth as in a well. During their search Mr Kirwan seemed “uneasy”-which, in any view, is not surprising.

Michael differed from Patrick only in that he thought the sheet was brought down from the rock by Mr Kirwan, whereas Patrick was positive that the sheet was beneath the body when discovered, that it was wet, and that he tied it twice about the body before Michael and Mr Kirwan came up. It was dark at the time; Patrick, who examined and handled the body, is more likely to be right than Michael, who did neither. The significance of the wetness of the sheet, as sworn to by Patrick, appears to have been overlooked: however dark it was, that is a matter on which he could not well be mistaken, and had Mrs Kirwan left the sheet with her clothes upon the rock, it would like them have been dry, for they were found above high-water mark. What, then, was the “something white” selected by Mr Kirwan from his wife’s clothes? Most probably, her chemise; for though we have an inventory of all the garments removed from the rock, there is no word of a chemise, which, as we shall find, was missing, while that she wore one will hardly be disputed.

Thomas Giles, one of the boatmen, corroborated the Nangles to the extent of his knowledge, and Arthur Brew, of the picnic party, told what he had seen of the Kirwans when on the island. Then followed the five witnesses who heard the cries. Mr Butt worked hard to bring out minor discrepancies in their statements, such as, for instance, the number of minutes that elapsed between the several screams, and so forth; but upon the cardinal points that each did hear about seven o’clock three distinct screams, decreasing in volume, coming from Ireland’s Eye, their testimony was unscathed.

The next group of witnesses was the women who had washed and laid out the corpse, and who now deposed to the condition in which they found it as before described. They stuck gallantly to their guns, and Mr Butt failed to impair the value of their evidence. Mrs Lacy, the dame of forty years’ practical experience, maintained in cross-examination: “There was nothing like the bite of a crab on the body.” The hearing was then adjourned.

Next day, 9 December, began with the evidence of Joseph Sherwood, Sergeant of Constabulary, stationed at Howth. He had seen the face of the body on the night of Mrs Kirwan’s death; it was scratched, there was a cut on the right temple, the mouth was swollen, and the eyes were bloodshot. He noticed that Mr Kirwan’s clothes were wet from the knees downward. Upon arrest of that gentleman at his house in Upper Merrion Street, on 7 October, witness there saw the woman Kenny and her children. He was present when the bathing cap was found at high-water mark in the Long Hole on 11 September; the string was tied in a hard knot. Shouts at Ireland’s Eye were audible at Howth; he himself had heard such on the mainland. Cross-examined by Mr Butt, the bundle of Mrs Kirwan’s clothes did not include a chemise. The clothes were clean and free from bloodstains.

Ann Molloy, the Kirwans’ servant, said she had been with them for twelve months. They had no family. Miss Theresa Kenny was then called, but failed to appear. It would have been interesting to have heard her evidence. William Bridgeford stated that he was the owner of the house in Sandymount occupied by Mr Kirwan who became his tenant in 1848. Witness saw there occasionally a woman whom he understood to be Mr Kirwan’s wife. There were children in the house. He had received notes, presumably on business, from the woman, signed “Teresa”. Catherine Byrne, Mr Kirwan’s servant at his “home from home”, said that a woman lived with him there who was known as “Mrs Kirwan”. They had seven children. A strange lady called once to make some inquiries.

Thomas Alexander Hamilton, the medical student who had seen the body, was next examined. It was, he said, then prepared for burial. He made a superficial examination of the head, but found no fracture. There was a scratch on the right temple, and scratches around the eyes, which were closed; he did not open them; the eyelids were livid. The lobe of one of the ears was cut. There was froth, thin, light, and stationary, upon the mouth. The abdomen was full and firm. He did not examine the body very closely, and saw no blood, or anything else that attracted his attention. Cross-examined, he noticed no marks of violence. He had never before examined the body of a drowned person. He knew nothing at the time to excite suspicion.

Dr George Hatchell, who made the post-mortem examination thirty-one days after death, was next called. He was present at the exhumation. The coffin lay in two and a half feet of water, which had entered it, and the body was to a certain extent macerated. The scalp showed no marks of violence. He found abrasions or scratches about the right eye. The eyes were injected with blood. The lobe of the right ear was wanting. There were no other injuries about the ears that he could observe, decomposition being too far advanced. The lips were swollen and very vascular; the tongue was marked above and below by the teeth. On opening the head, the brain was found to be in a semi-fluid state and of a light pinkish colour. The base of the skull was not fractured. There was nothing remarkable about the trachea or the larynx, and the vertebrae of the neck were not dislocated. On the right breast was a superficial cut or scratch. There was extensive lividity on the right side, due probably to gravitation of the blood. The lower orifices of the body were swollen and their interior very vascular, much more than was usual. The lungs were congested by engorgement of blood; the heart was empty on both sides. He had visited and inspected the locus.

“From the appearances you observe on the body, are you able as a medical man, to form an opinion as to the cause of death and what is that opinion?-I am of opinion that death was caused by asphyxia, or a sudden stopping of respiration. From the congestion in the-, from the engorgement of the lungs, and other circumstances, I should say that in all probability the simple stoppage of respiration must have been combined with pressure of some kind, or constriction, which caused the sudden stoppage. I do not think that simple drowning would produce to the same extent the appearances I saw.”

Cross-examined by Mr Butt, the extreme congestion which he had found could not be produced by drowning alone. He had never seen such engorgement caused by simple drowning. There must have been a struggle for life, whether by herself or with another. There was no internal injury to the ears nor any sign of a sharp instrument having been thrust into the body. Bathing on a full stomach might bring on a fit; but he had never heard of a person who fell in a fit of epilepsy giving more than one scream.

Henry Davis, the Coroner, who held the inquest on Mrs Kirwan, stated what took place at that investigation. Cross-examined, he said that in his opinion the scratches on the body were due to the bites of green crabs. In re-examination, he described Mr Kirwan’s behaviour at the inquiry, as already mentioned. The case for the Crown closed with the reading of Mr Kirwan’s deposition before the Coroner, and Mr Butt addressed the jury for the defence. He began by begging them to dismiss from their minds anything they might have heard out of doors to the prejudice of the accused. The evidence upon which the Crown asked them to conclude that his wife had died by his hands was (1) the appearances of the body, (2) the suspicion against him and the cries from the island, and (3) the stain upon his character as a husband. It was impossible for the prisoner to bring any evidence as to what had happened. He was not a competent witness, and he and his wife were alone upon the island when she met her death. That the cries heard were hers was merely a conjecture; even if they were so, that was consistent with her death in a fit. He asked the jury to disbelieve the evidence of the witnesses who said they heard the cries on the mainland; Larkin’s was the only evidence on which they could rely, but the guilt of the prisoner could not be deduced from it. The cries he heard might have been those of Mr Kirwan, calling for his wife before the boat arrived. If this was a murder, how did he do it? Did he strangle her? Did he go into the water and drown her? If her death was the result of violence and Larkin heard her death cries, how was it that eight minutes elapsed during the first and second? What was a strong woman doing in the meantime? It was a natural supposition that she had been attacked by epilepsy on going into the water with a full stomach after her dinner, and that she shrieked first, revived afterwards, and shrieked again. With regard to the prisoner’s unfortunate connection, that could supply no motive for the crime. It was an old affair; his wife knew of it and forgave him, and it would be monstrous to suppose that because he had been unfaithful to her he was capable of imbruing his hands in her blood. As to the appearances presented by the body, no marks of violence were found; there was no internal injury to the ears or other parts, and drowning in a fit would account for the bleedings and congestion. Dr Hatchell in his report mentioned “strangulation”, but the neck and throat were uninjured. Did he mean by “compression” that she was seized and crushed to death? No force was possible without injury to some vital organ. The cuts and scratches, the Coroner told them, were due to the bites of crabs; or they might have been caused by struggling among the rocks: her hair was full of sand and seaweed. A murderer would not begin by scratching her face, and there were no scratches on his face, such as might have been expected. If he had followed her into the sea and drowned her, his arms and coat would have been wet. He might have got his feet wet in the very pool in which her feet lay. “If he loved his wife, as it seemed evident that he did,” he who flung himself upon the body, and remained so long alone with it, could not be the murderer. [22] As to the position of the sheet and the finding of the clothes, these rested solely on the evidence of Patrick Nangle, to which no weight should be attached; that of Michael Nangle was upon these points to be preferred. This accusation would never have been brought but for the prisoner’s previous character; if they dismissed from their minds that consideration, they should acquit him, and he would leave the court a wiser and a better man.

Two witnesses only were called for the defence, Drs Rynd and Adams, who were present in court and had heard the evidence. Dr Rynd said the appearances described pointed to death by asphyxia, or stoppage of the breath and circulation. If caused by external violence there should be manifest marks thereof; there were no such injuries here. All the appearances could be produced by a fit of epilepsy, without any concurring cause. An epileptic might give several screams. Bathing with a full stomach would be apt to cause a fit. Congestion of the brain would account for the bleeding from the ears; general congestion for that from the other organs. Cross-examined by Mr Smyly, witness admitted he never knew of such bleeding in a case of simple drowning. The blood continued fluid in drowned bodies for a considerable time after death. The amount of congestion would depend on the efforts made by the drowning person to save himself. Counsel referred witness to the notorious case of Burke and Hare, where, although no external marks of violence were visible, suffocation was effected; and asked whether a wet sheet held over the mouth would produce the appearances described, without leaving any marks of violence. Dr Rynd admitted that it would do so. He had seen Mrs Kirwan professionally six years before; she appeared to him a fine strong young woman. He had heard, from a person deeply interested in the trial, that her father had died of epilepsy.

Dr Adams concurred generally in the evidence of Dr Rynd, but admitted that it was unusual for an epileptic to scream more than once-“the first scream is the rule”. Cross-examined, a wet cloth over the mouth and nose would produce all the effects of drowning. If a person was held under water it would cause congestion. It all depended upon the mouth and nose being under water. He had never known a case of accidental drowning where similar bleeding from the organs occurred, nor had he ever heard of a case of epilepsy accompanied by such bleedings. Reexamined, pressure applied to the chest would leave some external marks of violence.

“Mr Justice Crampton-Supposing death to have taken place by forcible submersion, or from accidental drowning, would you be able, from the appearances described, to state to which species of death they were attributable?-My Lord, in my opinion, no man living could do so.”

The case for the defence being here closed, Mr Hayes replied on the part of the Crown. He told the jury to disregard the rumours which had been circulated to the prisoner’s prejudice, and defended the prosecution from the animadversions of Mr Butt. Having reviewed the accused’s connection with the woman Kenny, whom he had represented as “Mrs Kirwan”, counsel dealt with the quarrel and the threats against his wife’s life.

“Is it reasonable to suppose that a man had been living with a concubine for ten years, and during all that time gave her his name, while he was beating his legitimate wife at Howth, could entertain connubial affection for the woman he treated so grossly?”

He then described the fatal excursion to the island on 6 September. As to the fact of the three screams, sworn to by five witnesses, there could be no possibility of doubt; that they were the shrieks of epilepsy was an ingenious suggestion, unsupported by proof.

“If there was any evidence that this lady had been previously affected by epilepsy or anything of that kind, there might have been a shadow of ground upon which to found the assertion. As the prisoner has forborne to produce such testimony, it is not too much to infer that there was none to produce; we must take it as proved that the deceased was a perfectly healthy woman.”

Why did Mr Kirwan say nothing about the screams? He must have heard them; he hadn’t seen his wife for an hour; “and yet this affectionate husband is deaf to these dreadful shrieks”. If he knew she were subject to fits he would have run to her assistance but he is found calmly waiting for the boat, and all he says is “Nangle, come up for the bag!” The first mention of the missing lady comes from the boatman, not from the distracted, agonized husband. Two hours after this lady set out to bathe, the search for her is begun in the dark. At first it is fruitless. They would note that Patrick, calling out near the boat, is heard by Michael at the Long Hole. Was it too much to suppose that if the prisoner had been at that part of the island he would hear screams from the Long Hole? The search was renewed, the body was found, and the question now arose, whether, upon all the facts and circumstances of the case, death was caused by accident or by Mr Kirwan. No direct evidence was possible; and it was from circumstantial evidence alone that the jury could arrive at a conclusion. How came that sheet beneath the body? It should have been left high and dry for her use when she came out. The position of the bathing dress, too, was inexplicable. At seven o’clock, if this lady was then bathing, the tide was going out, and there was 1 ft 9 in. of water over the “body” rock, which was 1 ft high. She was an expert swimmer: was it likely that she should be accidentally drowned there?

“Let us suppose her in this water, 2 ft 9 in. deep; let us suppose the prisoner coming into the Hole with the sheet in his hand, after taking it from the place in which it was left, ready to put it over her head; let us suppose she saw his dreadful purpose: can you not then conceive and account for the dreadful shrieks that were heard, when the horrid reality burst upon her mind that on that desolate, lonely island, without a living soul but themselves upon it, he was coming into that Long Hole to perpetrate his dreadful offence? Would not the consequence have been the dreadful shrieks that were heard and sworn to? If he succeeded in putting her under the water, notwithstanding her vain efforts to rise, struggling with all her energy against his greater strength, can you not imagine the fearful, agonizing, and fainter shrieks that men and women from the mainland depose to having heard? That is not a mere imagination; it is a rational deduction from the evidence; and it is for you to say whether, upon all the facts of the case, that might not have occurred, or whether the prisoner lost his wife without any fault of his own.”

As to what happened when the body was found, Patrick Nangle was a better witness than Michael, who on his own showing saw but little of it. If the deceased left her husband about six o’clock, and if he did not see her thereafter, it was very strange that he should be able at once to know where her clothes lay, in a spot to which he pointed and in which Patrick, who was familiar with the place, had failed to find them. The discrepancy between the Nangles with respect to the sheet is reconciled if what Kirwan brought down from the rock in his hand with the shawl was the chemise. That chemise was not forthcoming: it was for the jury to say whether it was not the “something white” to which Michael referred. With regard to the prisoner’s insistence on the washing of the body, he, a gentleman of position and education, was sworn to have said: “I don’t care a damn for the police; the body must be washed,” although he knew his wife had met her death suddenly on a lonely island, and that every circumstance as to the state of the body was most important to the ends of justice. Moreover, he was actually warned of the coming investigation. The women who washed the body were positive that the scratches were not caused by crabs.

“You will ask yourselves, gentlemen, whether or not these scratches have any reference to the time when the horrible sheet was being put over the face of the deceased; whether at that awful moment she might not have put up her hands to try and remove the sheet, and in endeavouring to do so, tore herself in the manner described.”

The bathing cap, found at high-water mark, with the strings tied tight, was also against the supposition of death by epilepsy or accident. Might it not have been torn off in the struggle that took place before the sheet was thrown over her head? Dr Adams, with all his great experience, never knew a case of death from simple drowning or epilepsy in which such bleeding occurred, and yet in the face of that testimony they were asked to say that Mrs Kirwan’s death was accidental! If, apart from the medical evidence, the conduct and demeanour of the prisoner together with the whole facts and circumstances of the case, left no rational doubt of his guilt, it was their duty to find him guilty.

In charging the jury, Mr Justice Crampton referred to the mantle of mystery spread over the case, and explained the nature and effect of circumstantial evidence. Having reviewed the undisputed facts, his lordship went through the proof at large. That the parties were not living on good terms as husband and wife was proved by the character and conduct of the prisoner. The testimony of all the medical men was, substantially, that the external injuries could not have been the cause of death. While they found no marks of violence, that did not exclude the mode of destruction suggested by the Crown-the forcible application of the sheet-which the doctors admitted would leave no signs distinguishable from those of drowning. All were agreed that the appearances, external and internal, were consistent with either simple drowning or forcible immersion. Dr Hatchell went further: he thought the congestion greater than could be accounted for by drowning alone. Thus the jury were left by the doctors in a state of much uncertainty. His Lordship then commented on the demeanour of the prisoner on 6 September. The jury would consider whether that was due to genuine grief or was merely affected to avert suspicion. As to the sheet, it was for them to decide which of the Nangles was in error. Both seemed anxious to tell the truth; but it was very dark at the time, a fact which should also be kept in view with reference to the finding of the clothes. Patrick Nangle’s account of his being interrupted by Mr Kirwan at the inquest was corroborated by the Coroner. It was admitted that three cries from Ireland’s Eye were heard that evening about seven o’clock. If the screams heard by Larkin came from the Long Hole they must have come across the island, and consequently must have been heard by the prisoner. The credit of the five witnesses who heard these cries was unimpeached. If they were uttered by the deceased lady, what caused them? Undoubtedly, pressing and imminent danger of some kind. Were they the screams of a person seized by epilepsy, or were they due to pain or fear caused by another? The jury would consider whether the character of the cries was consistent with an attack of epilepsy to a person bathing. They would also consider whether this lady, an experienced bather and an expert swimmer, was swimming in two feet nine inches of water when she was seized with epilepsy and gave the screams described. It was impossible that she herself placed the sheet where it was found, as the rock was then covered by water. How came she upon that rock? Was it probable that the tide threw her on it and left her there? Again, did she ever in her life have an epileptic fit? Suspicion must not be confounded with evidence. But if they could not reconcile these facts with the prisoner’s innocence, they must not pass them over; if, on the other hand, they were not satisfied that Mrs Kirwan’s death was the result of violence, they would acquit him.

At seven o’clock the jury retired to consider their verdict. Returning in forty minutes, they intimated that they could not agree, and the Court adjourned till eleven o’clock. On its reassembling, however, the jury were no further forward, and it was proposed to lock them up all night and to take their verdict in the morning. They asked for a little more time, and wished to hear Dr Adams repeat his testimony, but the judge supposed that gentleman was then fast asleep; he gave them his own recollection of the doctor’s evidence: that death might have been caused by either simple or forcible drowning. The jury then said they were likely to agree, and in fifteen minutes arrived at a verdict of guilty. The Court adjourned.

When the Court met next day to pronounce sentence, Mr Butt moved that certain questions of law be reserved for the decision of the Court of Criminal Appeal, [23] namely, whether the evidence of the prisoner having lived at Sandymount with a woman who called herself “Mrs Kirwan” was admissible: whether the verdict was founded on the testimony of Dr Adams, a witness for the defence; and whether the deposition of the prisoner at the inquest ought to have been admitted? The Court refused the application. Asked what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed against him, the prisoner, “in a firm and perfectly calm voice”, made no fresh statement and merely repeated the facts known to everyone in court. Mr Justice Crampton said:

“I am sorry to interrupt you at this painful moment, but you must be well aware that your counsel entered into all these subjects. It is impossible for me now to go into the evidence.”

His Lordship then pronounced sentence of death, intimating his own concurrence and that of his learned brother in the rightness of the verdict, and pointing out that there was no hope of pardon on this side of the grave. The prisoner, again protesting his innocence, was removed under escort to Kilmainham Jail, and the Court rose.

The Official Report of the trial concludes: “By order of the Executive Government the sentence was commuted to transportation for life.” The result was achieved by the joint endeavours of the Rev. J. A. Malet, who produced a brochure entitled The Kirwan Case, and of J. Knight Boswell, a Dublin solicitor, who published a pamphlet on similar lines. Both tracts give an ex parte review of the evidence and contain a series of declarations by divers persons, more or less relevant to the issue, as to which it may be generally observed that such irresponsible pronouncements, not upon oath, are plainly of less value than statements sworn to in court. I have space but to glance at this new “evidence”.

The Kirwan Case crop includes Mrs Crowe, the mother of Mrs Kirwan, who said she was in constant touch with her daughter and that Mr Kirwan was always a most kind, affectionate husband. She makes no reference to the Sandymount establishment, and as regards her daughter’s health, condescends only upon sleeplessness; she does not mention fits. Her daughter was “very venturesome in the water, going into the deep parts of the sea, and continuing therein for a much longer period than other ladies”. Mrs Bentley said that she knew the deceased intimately. Mrs Kirwan became aware of the Kenny connection within a month of her marriage, and “exhibited no emotion on the subject”. Two years before, she told the declarant that she had a fit in presence of her husband. Two other ladies severally averred that Patrick Nangle had equivocated about the sheet, and had expressed an intention to “pinch” Mr Kirwan at the trial. There follows a certificate by ten Dublin physicians and surgeons, proceeding upon the “sworn testimony annexed”, that the appearances were “quite compatible with death caused by simple drowning or by seizure of a fit in the water”; and that they were “given to understand that Mrs Kirwan’s father died of a fit eight years ago”. [24] The great Dr Taylor wrote on 20 December, 1852, denouncing the verdict: we shall hear his opinion presently. Anne Maher, Kirwan’s servant, said that two years before Mrs Kirwan had a fit in presence of her husband and one Kelly. Arthur Kelly said that he had been Kirwan’s “assistant” for twelve years; he assisted at two fits, one two years ago and another in June last, just before Mrs Kirwan left for Howth. Neither of these declarations were upon oath-Anne Maher could not write. [25] An uncle and a cousin of the deceased said that she often complained of blood to the head and “confusion of ideas”; adding with delightful, if unconscious humour that she spoke in the highest praise of her husband’s conduct and “always appeared in the full and affluent enjoyment of comfort and respectability”. Mr Butt wrote to say that the epileptic theory was not thought of till the second day of the trial, when it was suggested by a medical witness, too late to call evidence in its support-as though he had not had an opportunity of consulting his own client! The remaining volunteers allege that Kirwan had nothing to do with choosing the wet grave, that the Crown expert’s measurements at the Long Hole were defective, that the acoustics of the island were other than as represented, and that Mrs Kirwan once told a servant, with reference to a little boy who came to the house enquiring for “dada”, “that it was Mr Kirwan’s son, and he had two or three more of them”. Here endeth The Kirwan Case.

Islands would seem to have exercised a baleful influence upon Mr Kirwan’s fortunes. Fatal, in any view of his behaviour, were the hours spent by him upon Ireland’s Eye; and now his Excellency the Earl of Eglinton, the Lord Lieutenant, whether dissenting from the verdict, or impressed by these declarations, or yielding merely to popular clamour, commuted the sentence to penal servitude for life, and the convict was immured accordingly on Spike Island in Queenstown harbour.

In the other pamphlet, Mr Boswell discusses the controversial points of the case, and publishes among certain statements a declaration by Teresa Kenny. But the second “Mrs Kirwan” is disappointing: she was plainly in no mood for revelations. She very handsomely accepts sole responsibility for the liaison, of which she alleges the wife was all along aware, and says that in 1847 Mr Kirwan urged her to go to her brother in America, a proposition declined by her in the spirit of Ruth’s refusal to forsake Naomi. She was unable to bear witness at the trial, having cut her thumb. Since her protector’s arrest she and her children had suffered much persecution at the hands of the righteous. But what the testimony of Teresa lacks in sensation is amply atoned for by the statement that on 6th September there was upon the island another man, one John Gorman, who avouched “that Kirwan was as innocent of the murder as the child unborn”! Unfortunately, this person, having unbosomed himself to Mr Malet, absconded, alleging, with some show of reason, that “he was afraid of being implicated himself,” and no trace of him could be found. So the pamphlet is not enriched by his declaration which, like “an affidavit from a thunderstorm or a few words on oath from a heavy shower”, desiderated by a certain chancellor, was not forthcoming. Mr Boswell has a stronger hand to play in Dr Taylor. That forensic autocrat had contributed to the medical press an article, reprinted at length in the pamphlet. As this is not a medical journal and not all my readers are medical jurists, I do not propose to accompany Dr Taylor in his pathological excursus. Those professionally interested may read him for themselves. His conclusions are as follows:

“I assert as my opinion, from a full and unbiased examination of the medical evidence in this case, that so far as the appearances of the body are concerned, there is an entire absence of proof that death was the result of violence at the hands of another. Persons while bathing, or exposed to the chance of drowning, are often seized with fits which may prove suddenly fatal, although they may allow of a short struggle; the fit may arise from syncope, apoplexy, or epilepsy. Either of the last conditions would, in my opinion, reconcile all the medical circumstances of this remarkable case.”

While admitting the force of the moral and circumstantial evidence against the accused, Dr Taylor holds that, “looking at the unsatisfactory nature of the medical evidence of violent death, it would certainly have justified a verdict of Not Proven”.

The doctor, however, was not to have it all his own way. There was published by Professor Geoghegan the result of his examination of the same facts, which led him to a very different conclusion. The copy of this pamphlet now before me is interesting as having been presented by the author to Mr Smyly, QC, who conducted the prosecution. Why that learned counsel did not put the Professor in the box is an additional mystery. To me, a layman in such matters, Dr Geoghegan’s arguments upon the medical evidence seem much more cogent and convincing than those of Dr Taylor. His summing up is as follows:

“The preceding considerations, I think, suffice to indicate that the entire series of medical facts leads to the following conclusions:

1.

That the death of Mrs Kirwan was not the result of apoplexy, or of epilepsy, nor yet of epileptic or of suicidal drowning.

2.

That the combined conditions of the body (both external and internal) were incompatible with drowning, unattended by other violence.

3.

That the appearances observed may have been produced by strangulation alone, or combined with compression of the chest, or with partial smothering.

4.

That they are also consistent with a combination of the preceding mixed or simple process of strangulation, with drowning; the submersion not having been continuous from its commencement.”

That Dr Geoghegan was in the better position to form a judgement would appear in the following circumstances: he had been consulted by the Crown at an early stage of the case, had personally inspected the locus, and heard the whole trial, none of which advantages was enjoyed by Dr Taylor. Further, he ascertained from witnesses who had seen the body certain conditions not elicited in evidence. From observations made by him at the Long Hole, Dr Geoghegan believed that the deed was done at the landward side of the “body” rock, in shallow water; the presence of seaweed and gravel in the hair favoured that view, and there would be less chance of detection from wetting of the perpetrator’s clothes. “The arrangement of the deceased’s bathing-dress, and of the sheet beneath her, with the orderly position of the body, seem clearly to show that wherever death may have occurred, the corpse was placed subsequently on the rock.”

Actuated as I always am by a laudable desire to give the reader full value for his money, and believing that the opinion of a modern authority on forensic medicine might prove helpful, I consulted, unprofessionally, my friend Dr Devon, who was so good as to make a careful study of the whole phenomena, and to favour me with his conclusions. Of the competency of Dr Devon to pronounce upon the question, it would be impertinent to speak. His report is too long for quotation here, and I must be content to quote one pregnant paragraph:

“In this case it was suggested that deceased had an apoplectic stroke; but there was no evidence in the brain of any haemorrhage. Syncope was also put forward as a cause of death; but the appearances found pointed to death from asphyxia. Epilepsy was also advanced as a cause, with as little evidence to support it. Granting, however, that deceased fell into the water either from an epileptic or a fainting fit, and there was drowned, how could she have sustained the injuries she had received and be found lying on her back? Had she fallen forward against projecting rocks or stones, might she not have cut her face and breast and bruised her right side? Possibly; but if she fell forward and got injured and drowned, how did she fall backward on a sheet, with her clothes up under her armpits? I am unable to imagine any accidental or suicidal drowning in which the deceased would be found in the position and with the injuries of Mrs Kirwan. And how might it have occurred? If the sheet on which she was found lying had been put round her when she was alive, in some such way as it was put round her dead body before it was removed, she could easily have been submerged in shallow water. If she had been shoved in from behind, the injuries might have been received from the rocks or stones in the bed of the water. There was no evidence of throttling and there were no injuries on her back. The body seems to have been taken to the place in which it was found, and in the process the clothes might have been drawn up to the armpits. It was a simple murder, clumsily carried out. If the body had been left in the water there would have been less room for suspicion, but it is a common thing for people under emotional stress to get exhausted mentally and to behave with a degree of stupidity that is amazing.”

Who shall decide when the doctors disagree? Dr Taylor asks “Whether any amount of moral evidence can compensate for a deficiency of proof of the cause of death?” But though medical opinion be thus divided, some weight must surely attach to other facts and circumstances indicating foul play, hardly to be reconciled with death from natural causes. If so, the secret of the island would seem to be rather an open one after all, and like the song the Syrens sang, not beyond all conjecture.

A quarter of a century after the trial the following paragraph appeared in the Freeman’s Journal (3 February 1879):

AN OLD TRAGEDY REVIVED

More than twenty-five years ago, a man named Kirwan, who lived in Upper Merrion Street, and had official employment as a draughtsman, was convicted in the Courthouse, Green Street, of the murder of his wife at Ireland’s Eye, under circumstances of peculiar atrocity and horror. Sentence of death was pronounced; the gallows was prepared, the hangman retained, and the rope ready for its work; but at the last moment powerful influence of a very special character was successfully exerted, to rescue the culprit from the grasp of the executioner. Kirwan’s death sentence was commuted to penal servitude for life, and after a short stay at Mountjoy Prison he was sent to Spike Island, where he spent nearly twenty-four years as a convict. Last week he was liberated, on condition that he should leave the country, and he has sailed, via Queenstown, for America. One who saw him just before his departure describes him as an aged and very respectable-looking gentleman, white-haired, bent, and feeble, and with nothing in his aspect or manner to suggest that he was guilty of the awful tragedy on Ireland’s Eye.

Some further particulars are furnished by Mr M’Donnell Bodkin, K C, in his recent account of the case, on the authority of the late Dr O’Keeffe, formerly prison doctor at Spike Island, who “accompanied Kirwan when, on his release, as the last prisoner on Spike Island (before it was turned to its present use), he proceeded to Liverpool, whence he sailed to America, with the intention of joining and marrying the mother of his children, whose name figured so prominently at his trial”. A reunion sufficiently remarkable, whatever view you take of the mystery. The local tradition that a venerable and flowing-bearded stranger, who some years afterwards visited Ireland’s Eye and remained wrapped in contemplation of the Long Hole, was Mr Kirwan, surveying the scene of his adventure, may be dismissed as legendary.