A poem purportedly composed by James Kerrigan in Carbon County Prison,
but most accounts of Kerrigan say he was illiterate.
Anyway, for your perusal:
Gentleman, I’m that squealer they talk so much about,
You all know the reason of that I have no doubt;
If not, I will tell you as near as I can,
For I’m a bold American, and my name is Kerrigan.
I fought for my country, as you will plainly see,
And I always did my duty when I met General Lee;
And many is the time I saw that old gent flee.
So did many of my comrades, who marched alongside of me.
And when the war was over I returned home safe again,
I married and settled down in a wise and good way,
Then Carroll, Donohue and Campbell did lead me astray.
And it’s them that I may thank for where I am today.
On the 1st of September, in eighteen seventy five,
As I was on my way from work at Carroll’s I did arrive.
To take my beer, as usual, but not to get a fill.
When Carroll said to Kerrigan, hear are men for Summit hill.
I said, why Carroll, I’ve got to work, with them I cannot go.
Kerrigan, you know better, and that this is not so.
At last I gave consent, went and fixed myself in style
To take to Summit Hill Edward Kelley and Mike Doyle.
We arrived at Campbell’s about half past nine or ten,
When Cambell he accompanied us from there to Summit Hill,
Saying, Hugh, here are the men we talked about, and now they left their home.
For to satisfy some of us they came to kill John P. Jones.
Hugh got the pistol ready to see if they were free,
Then he handed one to Doyle and another to Kelley and me,
Saying, take these, boys, we’ll make things all right,
And try and get it done against to-morrow night.
On Thursday we had seen Jones, but this deed we did not want to do,
For it was hard for any one to have the like done.
But Campbell he insisted, and next morning we went,
And did that awful deed for which we now repent.
We three were arrested that day about noon,
Two of us, then were just in our bloom,
And Kelly he was, I think, something over nineteen.
And was led astray, it is thought, by a man named Jerry Kane.
When Doyle he was tried I saw it was no use
For me to hold my tongue, so, you see I let it loose;
I told the whole story from beginning to end,
And I think since I’ve told it the county is on a mend.
I had one to help me, who was both good and true
To his religion, his country, likewise some of you,
His name is James McParlan, he’s a credit to all men,
To his religion, his country, and all law abiding Irishmen.
That society is a disgrace to Irishmen, and that you all do know,
Outside of the coal region I think it is not so,
For they tend to there duty, the church they do supply
With all that is wanting, and have it’s blessings when they do die.
But it’s not so in the coal region, for they got the church’s curse.
And were excommunicated, which still make it worse.
They wanted to be admitted into the church you know,
By them notorious criminals, Tom Fisher and Kehoe.
Kehoe and Tom Fisher were county delegates,
For Schuylkill and Carbon, but now they have pale hate,
For crime that they encourged, and sent men to do,
And now they would squeal on them, but their squealing will not do.
I think I will lay down my pen, when I say a word to ye,
That’s to quit drinking liquor and keeping company,
For if you don’t you will it rue until the day you die,
So Kerrigan, now, with a glad heart says, to you all good bye.