The Donnelly Massacre

Continued from last week
Jim Donnelly, his wife Johannah, their seven sons and one daughter, lived in Lucan, Ont. in the mid-19th century. They lived on the Roman Line, a road so called because the inhabitants were Roman Catholics from Ireland.
After Jim had worked his land for several years, Patrick Farrell obtained one half of his farm. Jim and Farrell, never on the friendliest of terms, were now blood enemies. On June 27, 1857, Jim killed Farrell in a fight at a logging bee. Jim was tried, found guilty and sentenced to seven years in Kingston Penitentiary.
After serving his sentence, he returned to find that his resourceful wife had not only maintained their farm, but had brought up their handsome brood to be as rough and tough as their father.
After Jim's return, every mishap that befell those who had testified at his trial seven years earlier was laid at the feet of the Donnelly family. The boys could scrap like hellions and there is no record of them ever losing a fight.
The Donnellys prospered. In the 1860s, they went into the stagecoach business. Will and young Jim discovered they had a knack for business.
From all reports, their small line was the cleanest, most efficient of any in service in the area. Their competition, old Bob Hawkshaw, planned to retire. Will and Jim offered to purchase his line, but Hawkshaw sold out to John Flannigan. Big John was well liked and was confident that customers would patronize his stagecoach line rather than the Donnellys'. He was right.
Then, as if willed by the Devil himself, strange and unusual misfortunes befell Flannigan's stagecoach line. One day an axle broke, shaking up the passengers, severely damaging the coach and injuring a horse. Accident, maybe. Sabotage, possibly. One of Flannigan's barns burned to the ground.
Five days later, another Flannigan barn inexplicably caught fire. A stagecoach was burned beyond repair, but eight horses were rescued from the blazing building. It is even reported that on one occasion Flannigan found his horses with their tongues cut out.
Flannigan was understandably incensed at the Donnellys. Together with 17 men, who believed that the Donnellys had gone too far, he advanced toward the Donnelly farm. Will and James were preparing the stagecoach for the run to London. The unruly mob stopped in front of the Donnelly barn. Jim, Sr. and all seven sons looked at the mob and rolled up their sleeves.
Jim, Sr. spoke first, "You gentlemen seem to be looking for trouble. If so, the boys and I will be pleased to oblige you.''
Flannigan hesitated at the cockiness of Jim Donnelly. That hesitation was to cost him dearly. The eight Donnellys tore into the 18-member mob. Several witnesses observed the Donnelly boys as they clubbed and punched until their enemies lay on the ground or took flight. It was all over in 10 minutes, but the scene of the fearless family fighting against better than two-to-one odds remained indelibly etched in the minds of the witnesses, who never tired of telling the story of the epic battle.
To gain some perspective into the terror that was the Donnelly family, one has only to scan the criminal charges placed against them in the first three months of 1876. It is an impressive list of 33 charges, including assault, arson, wounding, robbing and shooting with intent.
Like all pioneer families, the Donnellys had their share of personal tragedies. Jim, Jr., is reported to have died of pneumonia.
Like everything about the Donnellys, his death is shrouded in mystery. Some say he was shot to death and the shooting was kept secret by the family.
Whatever the truth, he lies today in the country graveyard beside St. Patrick's Church. Later, brother Michael was stabbed to death in a barroom brawl. He is buried beside his older brother.
The feuds continued, fiercer and crueller than before. Word of the acts of terrorism and the law's inability to cope with the Black Donnellys slowly trickled to the outside world. Inside the tight pocket of pioneer Canada, desperate men had had enough. If the law couldn't tame the Donnellys, they would mete out their own brand of justice.
Jim Carroll was the catalyst required to ignite the local citizenry into action. Jim was born in the area, but had moved to the U.S., returning in 1878, at age 26. He was quickly made aware of the scourge known as the Black Donnellys. Big Jim let it be known that he had no fear of the Donnellys.
Robert Donnelly was hustled off to Kingston Penitentiary for taking a pot shot at Const. Sam Everett. Everett was given a severe thrashing soon after Robert's conviction. He couldn't or wouldn't identify his attackers and, soon after, resigned his position.
Big Jim Carroll became a Lucan constable with the promise, "I will drive the Donnellys out of Lucan.'' In a way, he did just that.
On the night of Feb. 3, 1880, grim- faced men met at the Cedar Swamp Schoolhouse. They called themselves the Biddulph Vigilance Committee. The stone schoolhouse had been the gathering place for socials and political meetings, but this was different. By lantern light, jugs of whisky were passed from man to man. Although the weather was not overly cold, the whisky was necessary for the task at hand.
Some say there were 31 men in attendance, some say more than 40. It matters little. They walked down the road toward the home of Jim Donnelly. Others joined them en route. Into the Donnelly home they marched. Patrick Grouchy Ryder was among their number. Grouchy's barn had been burned. After many postponements, Johannah and Jim, Sr., were to appear in Granton to answer to the charge of arson the next day.
Farming is a demanding occupation. Chores must be carried out and farm animals must be fed. To that end, the Donnellys had a neighbouring youngster, 11-year-old Johnny O'Connor, sleeping over that night. Johnny was to take care of the animals the next day, while the Donnellys drove to Granton to appear in court. A niece, Bridget, was visiting from Ireland. Tom was at home with his parents.
Const. Jim Carroll led the group. He sighted Tom Donnelly asleep in a tiny bedroom off the kitchen. Big Jim snapped handcuffs on his wrist. Tom awoke with a start and cried out, "What the hell!'' Carroll responded, "You're under arrest.''
The noise woke up Johannah, who in turn woke up her niece Bridget. Jim, Sr., was sleeping with Johnny O'Connor. He pulled on his trousers and joined the rest in the kitchen. He saw his son in handcuffs, "What? Tom, are you handcuffed?'' he asked.
"Yes,'' Tom replied. "He thinks he is smart.'' By candlelight, Jim, Sr., went back to the bedroom for his coat. Johnny O'Connor had been using the elder Donnelly's coat for a pillow. Now he held it out for Jim, who returned to the kitchen.
There, in the eerie glow of the candle, Johnny O'Connor's eyes met Jim Carroll's. Later, Johnny would state there was no way Carroll was unaware of his presence. In light of future events, it is a minor mystery that Johnny O'Connor's life was spared.
Did the men intend only to beat up the Donnelly clan? Bill Ryder, a great-great-great nephew of Grouchy Ryder, says, "I believe the intent was to rough up the Donnellys, but something went wrong and, once started, the mob got out of hand.''
All but one of the inhabitants of the house that night were beaten and clubbed to death. Tom Donnelly fell. So did his parents and so did his cousin Bridget. Johnny O'Connor hid under a bed, where he could see a shovel being brought down time after time on a Donnelly skull.
The house was set ablaze and in moments the mob was gone. Johnny O'Connor escaped from the burning house and ran barefoot to a neighbouring farm. The mob's work wasn't completed. Down the road they marched to the home of Will Donnelly.
It was his brother John who answered the door. Silhouetted in the light of the doorway, he was an easy target. John died moments after being shot.
The mob thought it had killed the hated Will. Now the carnage came to an end. The men dispersed, leaving five members of the one family dead in their wake.
Next day, word of the tragedy spread. Initially, 13 men were held on suspicion. Of these, six were charged with murder - James Carroll, John Kennedy, Martin McLaughlin, Thomas Ryder, James Ryder and John Purtell. The six men were lodged in the jail behind the London courthouse.
On Jan. 24, 1881, Jim Carroll stood trial for the second time for the murder of Johannah Donnelly. This time, he was found not guilty. Because the case against Carroll had been so strong, it was felt that it would be futile to try any of the remaining men.
They were all released from custody.
No one has ever been convicted of the five murders.
In the years that followed the massacre, members of the Vigilance Committee were buried in the little graveyard beside St. Patrick's Church. Ironically, they rest forever beside the Donnelly family, victims of Canada's most infamous crime.