The Catalpa Rescue

1. Centuries of Oppression Fuel Fenianism

For we, friends, have been under the English boot for over six centuries!

Deep historical roots. The Fenian movement, a fervent Irish nationalist organization, emerged from centuries of British subjugation and repeated failed rebellions. From Henry II's invasion in 1171 to Oliver Cromwell's brutal campaigns and the Penal Laws, Irish identity was forged in resistance. The 1798 rebellion, led by Wolfe Tone, though crushed, solidified the dream of an independent Irish Republic.

Famine's devastating impact. The Great Famine of the 1840s, exacerbated by British policies that prioritized food exports over Irish survival, killed over a million people and fueled an "inveterate hatred" towards the English. This tragedy radicalized a new generation, including future Fenian leaders like John Devoy, who vowed revenge for the suffering inflicted upon their homeland. The famine underscored the belief that only complete independence could save Ireland.

Rise of secret societies. Recognizing that traditional uprisings were insufficient, James Stephens founded the Irish Republican Brotherhood (IRB) in 1858, a highly secretive military organization. Operating on a cell-based system, the IRB aimed to infiltrate all levels of Irish society, including the British Army, preparing for a decisive "Rising" to finally expel the English. This clandestine structure was designed to protect against informers and premature actions.

2. Infiltration and Betrayal Undermine the Rising

Just how long can they possibly last, when it will only take one of the men they have approached to inform their superiors, who themselves cannot have failed to notice the increasing identification of the Irish soldiers with the Irish, not the British, cause?

Fenian military recruitment. The IRB, under John Devoy's charismatic leadership, successfully recruited thousands of Irish soldiers within British Army regiments stationed in Ireland. These soldiers, often driven by poverty to enlist, secretly pledged allegiance to the Fenian cause, planning to turn their weapons against their British commanders when the signal for the Rising came. Key figures like John Boyle O'Reilly, Martin Hogan, and Thomas Hassett became vital recruiters within their units.

Informers' devastating impact. Despite meticulous secrecy, British intelligence successfully infiltrated the Fenian ranks with spies like Pierce Nagle and Constable Thomas Talbot. These informers provided crucial intelligence, leading to the seizure of the Fenian newspaper, The Irish People, and the mass arrest of hundreds of Fenian leaders and soldiers in late 1865 and early 1866. The arrests crippled the movement, preventing the planned Rising from gaining momentum.

Courts-martial and harsh sentences. The arrested Fenian soldiers faced swift and brutal courts-martial, often based on the testimony of their former comrades-turned-informers. Charged with "mutinous conduct" and "treasonable conspiracy," many received life sentences of penal servitude. These sentences, though often commuted from death, meant banishment to the furthest reaches of the British Empire, primarily the remote penal colony of Western Australia.

3. James Stephens' Daring Prison Escape

‘Stephens has escaped! Stephens has escaped!’

The "Chief Organizer" captured. James Stephens, the enigmatic "Provisional Dictator" of the Irish Republic, was the British authorities' prime target. After months of eluding capture, he was finally arrested in Dublin in November 1865, a significant blow to the Fenian movement. His defiant refusal to acknowledge British law during his committal hearing further cemented his legendary status among Irish patriots.

Breslin's ingenious plan. John Breslin, a hospital steward at Richmond Bridewell Prison, orchestrated Stephens' audacious escape. Using duplicate keys provided by a sympathetic night-watchman, Breslin navigated the prison's secure corridors, leading Stephens over an 18-foot wall into the waiting arms of John Devoy and other Fenians. The escape was meticulously planned, relying on Breslin's calm demeanor and intimate knowledge of the prison's layout.

A morale-boosting triumph. Stephens' escape, widely reported and celebrated, became a powerful symbol of Fenian defiance and capability. It humiliated the British authorities and galvanized Irish nationalist sentiment both at home and abroad. Though Stephens later left for America, his dramatic liberation proved that even the most secure British prisons were not impenetrable to determined Irish rebels.

4. Fremantle: A Living Tomb for Patriots

‘You are beginning a new era of servitude, in many respects, perhaps, different to that which you were heretofore accustomed but let me impress upon you not to be deluded by false notions of expecting better treatment . . .’

The "Hougoumont" voyage. In October 1867, 62 Fenian political prisoners, including military men like John Boyle O'Reilly, Martin Hogan, and James Wilson, were transported to Western Australia aboard the Hougoumont. The three-month voyage was a "floating hell," characterized by cramped, unsanitary conditions, brutal floggings of common criminals, and the constant clanking of chains. The Fenians, however, maintained their morale through shared camaraderie, concerts, and even a handwritten newspaper, The Wild Goose.

Fremantle Prison's harsh reality. Upon arrival in January 1868, the Fenians faced Fremantle Prison, a formidable limestone monolith built by convicts. Superintendent Joseph Doonan's chilling welcome speech emphasized the futility of escape, describing the surrounding landscape as "the most cruel country God ever turned over to the devil." The prisoners endured a brutal daily routine of hard labor, meager rations, and constant surveillance, designed to break their spirit.

Resilience and despair. Despite the dehumanizing conditions, many Fenians, particularly the military men, maintained their patriotic fervor. However, the physical and psychological toll was immense. John Boyle O'Reilly attempted suicide after learning of his mother's death, highlighting the profound despair that could grip even the most resilient. The prison was indeed a "living tomb," where the "canker worm of care enters the very soul."

5. John Boyle O'Reilly's Audacious Escape

‘Australia! The ship! Another chance for the old dreams; and the wild thought was wilder than ever, and not half so stealthy.’

A poet's determination. John Boyle O'Reilly, a poet and journalist, was transferred to a road gang near Bunbury, 100 miles south of Fremantle. Despite the harsh conditions, he cultivated relationships with local Aboriginal people, learning bushcraft, and with sympathetic Irish settlers and Father Patrick McCabe. After his suicide attempt, he resolved to escape, viewing it as his only path to true freedom.

Father McCabe's crucial role. Father Patrick McCabe, a roving Catholic priest, became O'Reilly's confidant and orchestrator of his escape. He connected O'Reilly with local sympathizers like James Maguire and William Moriarty, who provided horses, a hidden dory, and crucial intelligence about American whaling ships. McCabe's network demonstrated the deep-seated Irish solidarity within the colony.

The Gazelle rendezvous. After two failed attempts to intercept the Vigilant, O'Reilly finally rendezvoused with the American whaler Gazelle, captained by David R. Gifford, with Henry Hathaway as Third Mate. Hathaway, a brave and honorable man, became O'Reilly's staunch ally, even hiding him from British authorities on Rodrigues Island by faking his death. O'Reilly's escape was a testament to individual courage and the power of a dedicated support network.

6. John Devoy's Unwavering Commitment to Rescue

‘But, my dear friend,’ he intones with enormous gravity, ‘it is not my hard fate I deplore, for I willingly bear it for the cause of dear old Ireland, but I must feel sad at the thought of being forgotten, and neglected by those more fortunate companions in enterprise who have succeeded in eluding the grasp of the oppressor . . .’

Released but not forgotten. John Devoy, released from English prison in 1871, received a hero's welcome in America. Despite the fractured state of the Fenian movement, he remained committed to the cause of Irish independence. He was particularly haunted by the fate of the Fenian soldiers still imprisoned in Fremantle, feeling a personal responsibility for their plight due to his role in their recruitment.

A voice from the tomb. Devoy received smuggled letters from Fremantle, most notably from Martin Hogan and James Wilson, pleading for rescue and describing their "living tomb." Wilson's poignant letter, read aloud by Devoy at a Clan-na-Gael convention in Baltimore, galvanized support for a rescue mission. The emotional appeal resonated deeply, reminding Irish-Americans of their duty to their suffering brethren.

Fundraising and planning. The Clan-na-Gael, a secretive Irish-American organization, committed to raising funds for the "Rescue Fund." Devoy, leading the committee, sought advice from John Boyle O'Reilly, who strongly advocated for using a New Bedford whaler. Despite economic hardship and initial apathy, the letters from Fremantle spurred donations, including a significant personal sacrifice from James Reynolds, who mortgaged his home to provide initial capital.

7. The Catalpa: A Symbol of Hope

‘[None] of these three men had, so far as we knew,’ Devoy would recount, ‘a drop of Irish blood in his veins, but they undertook the work they were asked to perform as readily as if they had been sworn Fenians.’

Selecting the right vessel. Following O'Reilly's advice, Devoy and his committee focused on acquiring a New Bedford whaler. Henry Hathaway, O'Reilly's rescuer, recommended Captain George S. Anthony, a recently retired whaler with no Irish blood but immense courage and integrity. Anthony, despite personal risks and family concerns, agreed to lead the daring mission, seeing it as a fight for justice.

Acquisition and refitting. In March 1875, the Catalpa, a 200-ton bark, was purchased for $5,500 (funded by James Reynolds' mortgage) and extensively refitted for an 18-month whaling voyage. This dual purpose—whaling and rescue—was crucial for allaying suspicion. Anthony meticulously oversaw the installation of whaling gear, extra supplies, and even secret compartments, preparing the ship for its extraordinary mission.

A secret mission begins. On April 29, 1875, the Catalpa set sail from New Bedford. Only Captain Anthony, First Mate Samuel Smith (who was informed mid-voyage), and the Clan-na-Gael's representative, Denis Duggan, knew the true purpose of the voyage. The crew believed they were on a standard whaling expedition, a deception vital for the mission's secrecy and success. Anthony faced immense pressure, knowing the fate of the Fenians rested on his shoulders.

8. Breslin's Meticulous Ground Operation

‘I asked no questions,’ Foley will later recount, ‘and [Breslin] told me nothing which I had not a right to know.’

The man on the ground. John Breslin, the mastermind behind James Stephens' escape, was chosen to lead the ground operation in Western Australia. Traveling under the alias "James Collins," a wealthy American investor, he arrived in Fremantle in November 1875 with Thomas Desmond ("Thomas Johnson"). Breslin's cover allowed him to move freely, gather intelligence, and establish crucial contacts within the tightly controlled penal colony.

Infiltrating the network. Breslin quickly connected with sympathetic Irish settlers and ticket-of-leave Fenians, most notably William Foley, who had been released on medical grounds. Foley, still loyal to the cause, became Breslin's primary link to the imprisoned Fenians and even identified Irish Catholic warders who might be sympathetic. Breslin also cultivated a relationship with Elizabeth McCann, a local teacher, who bravely smuggled messages and money into the prison.

Intelligence gathering and planning. Breslin meticulously studied Fremantle Prison's operations, even receiving a personal tour from Superintendent Joseph Doonan, who unwittingly revealed security weaknesses and the authorities' overconfidence. Breslin and Desmond reconnoitered the escape route to Rockingham Beach, identifying the ideal rendezvous point and planning for contingencies, including cutting telegraph wires and securing escape vehicles.

9. The Daring Breakout and High-Stakes Chase

‘Shove off, men!’ Captain Anthony yells. ‘Shove off!’

The escape is set. After months of meticulous planning and agonizing delays (due to the British gunboat HMS Conflict and a severe gale), the escape was set for Easter Monday, April 17, 1876. The date coincided with the Perth Regatta, drawing away key authorities and military personnel. John Walsh and Dennis McCarthy cut telegraph wires, isolating Fremantle from outside communication.

The prison breakout. The six Fenians (Martin Hogan, Thomas Darragh, Robert Cranston, Michael Harrington, Thomas Hassett, and James Wilson) executed their escape from various work details around Fremantle Prison. Cranston, using a forged pass, led Wilson and Harrington away, while Hogan, Darragh, and Hassett slipped away from their respective tasks. Their coordinated movements, aided by sympathetic warders and their own ingenuity, allowed them to evade immediate detection.

The dash to Rockingham. John Breslin and Thomas Desmond waited with two traps (carriages) near the prison, picking up the six Fenians. John King provided a crucial rear-guard. The escapees, now armed with revolvers and rifles, raced the 20 miles to Rockingham Beach. Captain Anthony, who had landed his whaleboat the previous night, waited anxiously, having endured a perilous journey through treacherous reefs and a stormy night.

10. Defiance on the High Seas

‘That’s the American flag. I am on the high seas. My flag protects me. If you fire on this ship you fire on the American flag.’

Rendezvous and pursuit. The whaleboat, heavily laden with 16 men, including the six Fenians, Breslin, Desmond, King, and Brennan, finally reached Captain Anthony at Rockingham Beach. As they shoved off, Constable John McKenna and Aboriginal trackers arrived on the beach, realizing the escape. The police boat and the commissioned steamer Georgette (carrying Major Finnerty, Superintendent Stone, and armed Military Pensioners) were immediately dispatched in pursuit.

The chase and confrontation. A desperate race ensued across the Indian Ocean. The Georgette located the Catalpa and demanded the surrender of the Fenians. Captain Anthony, asserting American sovereignty in international waters (13 miles offshore), refused. The Georgette fired a warning shot across the Catalpa's bow, and Major Finnerty threatened to blow out the whaler's masts.

American flag stands firm. Captain Anthony, with Breslin's counsel, stood defiant. He raised the American flag, declaring that firing on his ship would be an act of war against the United States. The Catalpa's crew, now aware of the mission, armed themselves with blubber spades and grindstones, ready to resist any boarding attempt. Superintendent Stone, recognizing the international implications, ordered Finnerty to stand down, and the Georgette eventually retreated, leaving the Catalpa to sail to freedom.

11. A Hero's Welcome and Lasting Legacy

‘The rescue of the political prisoners proves that the Irishmen who talk least can do most. It proves also that distrust is not chronic in the Irish people – that they can stake great issues on the faith of single men – when they have selected them for their capacity and intelligence instead of their braggadocio.’

Triumphant return. After a long and perilous journey across the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, the Catalpa arrived in New York Harbor in August 1876. The six Fenians received a hero's welcome, met by thousands of ecstatic Irish-Americans, including John Devoy and John Boyle O'Reilly. The rescue was celebrated with parades, banquets, and widespread media coverage, becoming a powerful symbol of Irish defiance and American support for liberty.

A blow for Irish independence. The Catalpa Rescue was a monumental propaganda victory for the Fenian movement. It demonstrated the unwavering commitment of the Irish diaspora and humiliated the British Empire on a global stage. John Boyle O'Reilly, now a prominent journalist, lauded the rescue as proof that "Irishmen who talk least can do most," highlighting the meticulous planning and courage involved.

Enduring impact. The rescue solidified the legacies of its key figures: Captain George S. Anthony, John Breslin, and John Devoy. It inspired future generations of Irish nationalists, contributing to the momentum that eventually led to the Easter Rising of 1916 and, ultimately, Irish independence. The Catalpa flag, presented by Anthony to the Clan-na-Gael, became a cherished relic, symbolizing the enduring bond between Irish freedom and American ideals.

Last updated: August 1, 2025