THREE:The Repeal organisation had therefore become exceedingly formidable, and had been rendered still more so by what O'Connell called "the mighty moral miracle of 5,000,000 men pledged against intoxicating liquors." If he had to go to battle, he said, he should have the strong and steady teetotallers with him. The teetotal bands "would play before them, and animate them in the time of peril; their wives and daughters, thanking God for their sobriety, would be praying for their safety; and he told them there was not an army in the world he could not beat with his teetotallers. Yes, teetotalism was the first sure ground on which rested their hope of sweeping away Saxon domination and giving Ireland to the Irish." O'Connell had been in the habit of wearing a crown-like cap, richly ornamented, which had been presented to him at the monster meeting at the Rath of Mullaghmast, in the county Kildare. This symbol of sovereignty had its effect upon the masses, who began to cherish the idea that they might have ere long a king of their own. It was probably with a view to encourage this idea, and to raise their enthusiasm to the highest pitch, that he resolved to hold the last of the series of monster meetings at Clontarf, near Dublin, the scene of King Brian Boru's victory over the Danes. This meeting was to be held on Sunday, the 8th of October, and was to be the most imposing of all the demonstrations. But the Government was at last roused to action, and on the previous day a proclamation was issued by the Lord-Lieutenant in Council, prohibiting the assembly. The proclamation declared that whereas advertisements and placards had been printed and extensively circulated, calling on those who proposed to attend the meeting to come on horseback, to meet and form in procession, and to march in military order and array; and whereas the object of the meeting was to excite discontent and disaffection, hatred and contempt of the Government of the country, and to accomplish alterations in the laws and Constitution of the realm, by intimidation and the demonstration of physical force, tending also to serve the ends of factious and seditious persons, and violate the peace, the meeting was strictly prohibited. It was stated that those attending it should be prosecuted, and that effectual measures should be taken for its dispersion.But whilst England had been thus preparing for the augmentation of the navy, America had been aiming a blow at the efficiency of that navy, which must for years, if successful, have prostrated our whole maritime forces, and exposed our shores to the easiest invasion. This intended blow was nothing less than the destruction of our great naval dockyards and arsenals, and military storehouses, at Portsmouth and Plymouth. The chief agent in this infamous design, if the evidence of a miscreant can be believed, was Silas Deane. On the 7th of December the rope-house of the Royal Dockyard at Portsmouth was found to be on fire. By active exertions it was got under, after it had destroyed that building, and was imagined to be an accident. But on the 15th of January, 1777, one of the officers of the dockyard found a machine and combustibles concealed in the hemp in the hemp-house of the same dockyard. Suspicion now fell on a moody, silent artisan, who, on the day of the fire, had been looking about the dockyard, and who, by some chance, had got locked up in the rope-house the night before. His name was not known, but the[234] fact only that he was a painter, and had been called John the Painter. Government immediately offered a reward of fifty pounds for his apprehension; the same sum, with a strange simplicity, being offered to him if he would surrender himself for examination. Nothing, however, could be learned of him in Portsmouth or the country round; but fresh fires were now breaking out at Plymouth Dockyard and on the quays of Bristol. At Plymouth the fire was instantly checked, and the perpetrator was nearly seized. At Bristol the fire was laid near a narrow, deep creek, crowded with shipping, which was nearly dry at low water, so that it was impossible to get the shipping out. Six or seven warehouses were destroyed, but the shipping escaped. In another house at Bristol combustibles were discovered, and the alarm became general that the American incendiaries, having failed to burn New York, were come to England to burn our dockyards and maritime houses. Fortunately, in the beginning of February, a man was apprehended for the perpetration of a burglary at Odiham, in Hampshire; and, by the activity of Sir John Fielding, the London magistrate, he was identified as John the Painter. When brought before Sir John and other magistrates in town, the man conducted himself with tact and address. Though closely examined and cross-questioned by some of the members of the Privy Council, by Lords of the Admiralty, and other officers of the board, he maintained the scrutiny without betraying any embarrassment, or letting anything escape him that could in any degree incriminate him. A confession was, however, wormed out of him by another painter, named Baldwin. Silas Deane, John the Painter declared, according to Baldwin's evidence, had encouraged him to set fire to the dockyards of Plymouth and Portsmouth, Woolwich and Chatham, as the most effectual means of disabling Great Britain; that he gave him bills to the amount of three hundred pounds on a merchant in London, and promised to reward him according to the amount of service he should do to the American cause. Before his execution he freely admitted the truth of the charges against him. He confessed to having twice attempted to fire the dockyard at Plymouth, and to burning the warehouses at Bristol, having in vain endeavoured to deposit his combustibles on board the ships. He, moreover, stated that he had a recommendation from Silas Deane to Dr. Bancroft, in London, to whom he had declared that he would do all the harm he could to England; that the doctor did not approve of his conduct, but had, at his request, promised not to betray him.