On the Saturday of 30th May, 1835, a brawl ensued at Charlie Boyle’s residence located at the Bridge End of Dungloe. The day was bustling with the excitement of a fair day that had attracted a hefty number of people, approximately 10,000, to this single-street town in Rosses, West Donegal. Most of the hustle and bustle was near the Fair Hill, a few hundred yards to the north of the town. The site was filled with potential purchases of cattle, sheep, donkeys, pigs and horses. Dungloe too was bursting with people attending the fair. A varied mix of respectable and less respectable establishments were littered with attendees, tantalised by the displays of pedlars and showmen, consuming drinks served at both licensed and unlicensed venues.
Charlie Boyle’s establishment, whether legal or otherwise, held a decent reputation. Among the crowd who chose to wet their whistles there that afternoon were two men of the cloth; James McDevitt, the local parish priest known commonly as An Sagart Rua due to the fiery hue of his hair, and James Kilpatrick, the Church of Ireland minister from the adjacent parish of Lettermacaward.
However, these reverends were oblivious to the ruckus that unfolded in the latter part of the day, as they were secluded in a room of their own. The priest, McDevitt, disclaimed any knowledge of the commotion as it began, stating that he had been out of town for Mass and had arrived at Boyle’s only at around 3 pm after having his breakfast at 1 pm. He mentioned that he had consumed a glass of punch and left within half an hour to the street, only returning at about 7 pm when he was leaving, upon Charlie Boyle’s invitation, to have another half glass of punch.
The individuals who were at the centre of the brawl were none other than Andy Boyle and Philemy O’Donnell, related through “friendship”. Boyle was known to be a tough individual, notorious for his pugilism; as one of his kin described him, “a fighting man all his days, a dangerous man in a fair.”
While Philemy was accompanied by his three siblings, a dispute escalated into a violent conflict in the street, between Charlie Boyle’s premises and the barracks. Here, Philemy, Andy, their comrades and affiliates, brandishing rods and cudgels, fiercely assailed each other.
In the vicinity was a petite unit of the Constabulary, including a sergeant and four constables, all armed. Nonetheless, they chose to abstain from intervening in the brawl, allowing Boyle and O’Donnell, each backed by their own factions, to engage in combat.
Many supported and opposed Andy Boyle, according to John Sweeney, the innkeeper’s offspring. However, it appeared he had more adversaries than allies, and was defeated by Philemy.
Around 8 pm, a priest who had been visiting Charlie Boyle, came out to find Andy, shirtless and bloodied, in the street. He saw Andy towards home, accompanying him to a gravel pit a short distance along the Rutland Road, before heading back to town.
The priest, McDevitt, then came across Andy’s son-in-law, Owen Sharkey, also shirtless and wounded, outside Charlie Boyle’s. Tapping him on the shoulder with his whip, McDevitt advised him to return home.
However, the account narrated by the priest differed from that of the Constabulary. According to them, Sharkey had been detained for participating in the fight, and Sergeant William Armstrong was escorting him to the barracks when the priest interfered. A scuffle ensued during which McDevitt managed to seize Armstrong’s carbine, dislodging the bayonet, causing Armstrong to lose his hold on Sharkey, who subsequently disappeared into the crowd. The Constabulary’s version painted the priest as a saviour who assisted a captive escape from the police.
McDevitt later confessed to seizing the carbine and detaching the bayonet. However, he insisted that he did so in self-defence as he alleged the police had assaulted him unprovoked, and he feared that Armstrong intended to impale him with the bayonet.
In the midst of chaos, the local law enforcement tightly held their grip on McDevitt, who was forcefully hauled backwards through an amassed crowd to their station. There, two additional men – namely Daniel O’Donnell and John Boyle – found themselves sharing the uncomfortable circumstance. Following a scuffle in the passageway involving several fair attendees attempting to free McDevitt and the police making efforts to secure him, he stumbled over a bucket, or perhaps was pushed, and crashed onto the hard stone floor of the station.
Of note is that Armstrong may not have fathomed that his captive was the town’s clergyman at this point, given that donning religious attire was not yet customary for Catholic priests.
In a secure room, McDevitt, who had sustained three head wounds, was placed under keeper. Armstrong let him know that his condition would likely have been improved had he consumed less alcohol and subsequently, allocated a single officer for keeping watch over the imprisoned trio. In conjunction with the remaining three men, he stepped out before the station, warding off an indignant crowd with their bayonets.
The detention of the local priest spurred vexation among the suffer town’s sober population. In light of the impending riot, Charlie Boyle and the priest’s cousin Andy McDevitt approached the station with an appeal to release him. Their efforts were futile as Armstrong sternly warned McDevitt with his bayoneted weapon to maintain his distance, threatening to impale him. Then, Peter Boyle, a local business owner and political spokesperson, was approached for assistance, in hopes he could pacify the escalating situation.
However, before Peter Boyle could make his appearance, calmer minds rose to the occasion. Armstrong released the priest, quite literally showing him the door. At McDevitt’s emergence, a collective of people situated by the station’s entrance and across the roadway greeted him. Assuring them in Irish to return to their homes, McDevitt then departed in the company of Charlie Boyle towards his dwelling near the bridge.
Unfortunately, this state of calm was ephemeral.
When Armstrong had escorted McDevitt toward the exit, he told him, “Get home now, intoxicated swine!” He threatened to bring McDevitt to court on the upcoming Tuesday as the clergyman crossed the street. McDevitt had retorted saying, “You scoundrel, I ought to haul you to court for treating me unjustly”. The police argued that McDevitt had cursed Armstrong and God, allegations which McDevitt vehemently denied. It was also said that McDevitt rallied the mob to “strike them”, which led to the police being showered with stones.
In the midst of this chaos, Constable Michael Keenan tried to disperse the crowd outside the barracks to prevent further incidents. Armstrong reportedly responded, telling Keenan he should be ready to defend himself rather than disperse the crowd.
Suddenly, a stone, stick or lump of grassland was hurled from the direction of Fair Hill hitting the police station. Armstrong commanded his soldiers to open fire. Armstrong was the first one to shoot, aiming downhill towards McDevitt. His bullet penetrated Charlie Boyle’s head, entering below his right earlobe and exiting behind his left ear. Boyle collapsed at the clergyman’s feet, roughly 12 or 13 yards away from Armstrong. He survived for a couple more hours, coherent but silent, before passing around 11 pm.
Word of the murder rapidly circulated throughout the fair. The police took refuge in the barracks and to deter a gathering crowd on the hill behind the building, they fired around 13 or 14 shots.
The town was left reeling after that night.
In the following days, a coroner’s inquest classified Boyle’s death as “deliberate homicide”. The authorities bolstered their presence in the town by deploying additional Constabulary and Revenue Police to preserve peace. Armstrong and his four constables were subsequently arrested and taken to Lifford prison.
Armstrong and his fellow officers faced a murder trial at the Lifford Assizes on the first day of August. Accusations were made that the defence attorneys had purposefully filled the jury with non-Catholics, while additional claims came from the defence that their witness had been threatened. On their journey to Lifford, several people were intercepted by crowds, warning them of traditional punishments for informers, such as having their ears cut off, or ominous threats of never returning home.
Beginning early in the day, the trial witnessed testimony from McDevitt and his congregation, which starkly contradicted the recollections of defence witnesses. Among the disputed details was the extent of stone-throwing while McDevitt was detained and after his release. Defence witnesses recalled an onslaught of stones while several Dungloe residents testified that they saw no such incident.
Conflicting timelines also caused confusion. Whereas some witnesses claimed McDevitt was in custody for 45 minutes, others asserted it was for only 10 minutes.
Listeners to the evidence began to speculate whether the priest, who had possibly indulged in more drinks than he would acknowledge at the fair, might have stumbled into the tail-end of a stick fight, either ignoring the officers or intentionally intervening in Sharkey’s arrest.
One juror questioned whether the priest was inebriated and defence attorneys inquired if the priest was “in liquor”. They were reassured he was sober.
The jury convened at 11 o’clock and half an hour later, two representatives approached the judge asking if a verdict of “manslaughter but in self-defence” would be accepted. The judge, taken aback, called the jurors back and explained that their proposed verdict was illogical, as it suggested both innocence and guilt in a way he had not seen before.
The jury members returned to their deliberations and just before the stroke of midnight they announced their decision – the four constables were acquitted while Sergeant Armstrong was found guilty of manslaughter. The judge was taken aback by the verdict, expressing his astonishment that a man who was essentially declared innocent half an hour earlier was now found guilty. Nonetheless, he received the verdict.
Armstrong was sentenced to half a year’s hard labour, commencing from his arrest in late May, two days after the incident. It was anticipated that Armstrong would return home by the year-end festivities. The record of the case held at Dublin Castle dubbed it a “Dungloe Disturbance” rather than the “Assassination of Charlie Boyle.” The incident, truthfully, reflected a negative light on Dungloe’s populace, including the clergy. The lenient verdict was uncontested except for the liberal press, however, the O’Connellite Pilot did imply that Armstrong had a history. They inquired whether this was the same William Armstrong who had gravely wounded a man in County Meath by shooting him in the gut on the eve of Christmas. If so, they claimed, he was unsuitable for Constabulary service and should not be permitted to rejoin.
The untimely death of Charlie Boyle transpired during a time of substantial growth in government resources and staff, beginning in the 1820s and persisting past the Great Famine. This era marked the introduction of the Irish Constabulary, National Education, and Workhouses. Numerous public buildings such as schools, workhouses and dispensaries, and smaller courtrooms sprouted up, even in the most secluded areas, populated by individuals paid from public funds.
The circumstances surrounding Boyle’s violent demise cast light on the State’s struggles to expand in the 1830s, hence their significance to historians. A noteworthy addition to the narrative is the destiny of Charlie Boyle’s offspring, Condy, who was a teenager when his father was felled.
Following his father’s murder, Condy ascended to the primary local bailiff position for the Marquess of Conyngham, holder of substantial plots of land in Donegal, Clare, Meath and Kent, England. Although the Marquess, Francis Nathaniel Conyngham, seldom travelled to Donegal, under his ownership, it was said to be home to nearly 40,000 occupants. In his absence, an external agent was entrusted with managing his estate, leaning on local bailiffs like Condy to partition land, settle conflicts, oversee rent collection and evict problematic tenants.
Condy’s father, reputed as an esteemed and influential figure during the homicide proceedings, was assumed to have held certain roles that were then passed onto Condy. Beginning from the mid-1840s, Condy took up a series of lucrative public service positions, usually managing multiple roles concurrently. He functioned as a process server and a cess collector for the Grand Jury, essentially serving as the predecessor of the local County Council. His duties to the State included court crier and interpreter during assizes and quarter sessions. Additionally, he collected poor rates for the Board of Guardians of the Glenties Union, an entity responsible for managing the local workhouse and dispensaries. He also served as its relieving officer and dispensary warden in Dungloe. He was privileged in that the dispensary was situated in one of his sublet locations in Bridge End.
Following in his father’s footsteps, Condy found himself implicated in a local furore. During the 1880s, a faction of shopkeepers, along with knitting and shirt traders, all under the leadership of James Sweeney, took the lead in the Land League, and subsequently the National League in Dungloe. Given the scarcity of money, they decreed that the impoverished could forfeit their rent and instead prioritise paying their shop bills, since these influential leaders claimed to side with the common folk.
In 1888, the League placed sanctions on Maurice Boyle, a proprietor of a local hotel, due to him serving the shunned Constabulary of a nearby parish, Gaoth Dobhair. Boyle went on to exacerbate his misstep by successfully applying to become postmaster in Dungloe, after James Sweeney forfeited the position due to political complications.
Charles McGlynn, the parish priest, was an avid backer of the League. Therefore, he facilitated a League post box installation to steer business away from Maurice Boyle, supporting those boycotting him. However, Condy Boyle was resistant to join in the boycott, just like his acquaintance, Charlie Gallagher, who owned a public house at Bridge End. Consequently, the League set a boycott against them both.
Marital strife reached its pinnacle on the Sunday, 23rd of December 1888, when the families of Condy Boyle and Charlie Gallagher, tried to sit at their rented seats during Mass in Dungloe chapel’s gallery, a spot they’d had for the past six years. However, their seats were occupied by a group of 16 local troublemakers, headed by businessman and land protestor, James Sweeney. The chapel’s parish priest, McGlynn, had designated these seats to his political affiliates, leading to a violent altercation. Bloodshed followed, including that of the priest who was target of Mrs Gallagher’s umbrella blows.
Media was soon filled with shocked narratives of such aggression happening at a place of worship with Unionists and Conservatives expressing their disapproval. Nationalists, however, justified the priest’s decision to deny the Boyle and Gallagher families their seats, pointing out with conceit that they were not even parish members, as they hailed from beyond the bridge at the end of the main street, which marked the boundary between two parishes.
This incident held people’s attention until the brutal murder of District Inspector William Martin in February stole the limelight. Martin was killed by the attendees of a Mass in Derrybeg, using fence posts and rocks, when he tried to apprehend James MacFadden, the parish priest of Gaoth Dobhair, for encouraging support for the militant land protestors’ Plan of Campaign. The shock of the Derrybeg incident overshadowed Mrs Gallagher’s attack on a priest with her umbrella in Dungloe chapel.
But the Dungloe incident reveals fascinating insights. The media and public missed the irony of Condy being ostracised for aiding someone who supported the Constabulary that murdered his father. His father’s death, caused by Charlie Boyle, was a distant event and Condy Boyle had become an embodiment of government authority due to his roles as process server, tax collector, court announcer, interpreter, and relief provider. The post of bailiff, which involved overseeing Marquess of Conyngham’s estate, might have helped Condy acquire these roles. However, with landlords’ control gradually declining since his father’s death, it was these public roles that painted the image of Condy in his community’s eyes, rather than his position on the estate.
In 1870, followed by a more impactful period starting from 1881, Westminster enacted a number of land acts. These pieces of legislation amplified the rights of tenants, eventually encouraging landowners to sell their properties with the 1903 Wyndham Land Act. This act, in particular, also provided support for tenants aiming to acquire their own lands. Subsequently, the once formidable landlords, their agents, and bailiffs became a thing of the past. One tenant in Conyngham particularly referred to them as “dog-men and keepers” who oppressed the populace.
In the case of Condy, a long-serving bailiff who passed away at 90 in 1909, he was primarily remembered for his lengthy tenure in his position rather than his various public roles. His death grabbed attention across the nation, appearing in various newspapers with some even headlining his demise as “Three Quarters of a Century a Bailiff”.
However, there was no reference to the factors that presumably led Condy to become a bailiff: his father was fatally shot during a riot incited by a reckless priest’s actions in Dungloe’s Bridge End. This event was triggered by a hasty Constabulary Sergeant.
Kevin Boyle, a descendant of the man killed in the aforementioned 1835 Dungloe incident and a scholar of modern US history at Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois, is scheduled to deliver a lecture on “Donald Trump and the Remaking of United States”. This event will be held at Ionad Theampal Chróine, Dungloe, at 7pm on Saturday, August 31st. He is expected to gain more insights about his ancestors. Boyle will also present a talk on Trump at Charlie Byrne’s Bookshop, Galway, at 6pm on Tuesday, September 3rd. The University of Galway has organised both events.