The true story of the Colleen Bawn

TIMES PAST
With Willie White
BURRANE Cemetery is just outside Kilrush in County Clare. It is here you would have found a headstone in the shape of a cross bearing the inscription: ‘Here lies the Colleen Bawn, murdered on the Shannon, July 14th 1819, RIP’. (This was erected many years after the event.)

As the story travelled, bit by bit the headstone disappeared, chipped away by souvenir hunters. The cross had been originally erected by a Mrs Reeves of Bessborough House, which was close to the graveyard. Local teacher and scholar Peter O’Connell had allowed the Colleen Bawn to be interred in his plot when no-one else offered her a final resting place. Today, a plaque erected by the local community stands over the grave; it is encased to prevent it meeting the same fate as the cross.

There have been many variations of this event detailed in song, story and drama, many based on The Collegians written by Gerald Griffin, who was a young reporter covering the trial of the men accused of the murder. Colleen Bawn became known worldwide as a result of the play of that name by Dion Boucicault. To get this article right, I have used some references from Griffin’s work, but have also travelled back to find the facts as far as possible leading up to the murder of this teenager.

First, we look at the girl who became known as the Colleen Bawn. Her name was Ellen Hanley, born in 1803 in Ballingarry, County Limerick. Her father was a small farmer and tragedy struck early when her mother died with Ellen just six years’ old. The child went to live with her uncle, her mother’s brother John Connery, a shoemaker from Ballycahane near Croom in the same county.

Connery was a middle-aged bachelor and he doted on the child. Shortly after this, her father remarried and contact with Ellie, as she was known, was little or none. Ellen and her uncle could not be classified as rich, but did make ends meet. She had a certain type of beauty and demeanour, with a lovely friendly manner which endeared her to all who knew her.

Across the fields lived the Scanlons, who had arrived in the area a few years before the 1819 horror unfolded. This was a wealthy Protestant family of the landlord class. They had a large but shabby estate, with many acres of under-utilised land, and were well connected. Very aware of their position, they kept their distance from those around them; Mrs Scanlon in particular would avoid any contact with those she considered inferior, which meant about all the neighbouring population.

John Scanlon was a lieutenant in the Royal Marines; he took part in the defeat of Napoleon, was then discharged on half pay and returned to Ireland still only 23 years’ old. With him came 35-year-old Stephen Sullivan, who had served as a private in Scanlon’s command, and who now worked as the officer’s servant.

Stories differ about how Scanlon came in contact with Ellen, now 15 years’ old, but gain her acquaintance he did. He put on a show of class which impressed the young girl, but she insisted on him behaving honourably: she put it to him that if he was sincere, he should take her as his wife. To her proposal he consented, on certain conditions. One was that she would keep the marriage a secret from her uncle, since if word got out it might lead to talk of her being pregnant, which would possibly ruin him.

She foolishly consented and at the agreed time left the love and security of her uncle’s cottage, taking with her £100 in notes and 12 guineas in gold. He then brought her in front of an excommunicated priest, who married them. Scanlon, knowing full well this partnership would not be eternal or anywhere near it, did not realise that in Ireland a marriage in those days was recognised anyway, so he was shocked to learn he was committed and could not get out of the marriage.

A number of things came together that would force Scanlon’s hand: first of all, Ellie’s money did not last very long; he knew she would never be accepted by his parents; plus his sister; who had married a nobleman, informed him she was arranging a meeting with an heiress of beauty and wealth who had a desire to meet him. Now living near Bruff, Co Limerick, Scanlon realised Ellie stood in the way of a comfortable future and, although less than six weeks married, she no longer was of interest so he determined he had to get rid of her.

It is time to mention here that Scanlon had hired a maid called Ellen Walsh and she would be crucial in events which would follow. Of course, we have no record of how Scanlon was planning to carry out his evil deed, but evidence from his trial will give us some detail, so that is where we go next. What follows is taken from the detailed report of the presiding judge, Richard Jebb.

On the evening of 13 July 1813, a small sailing boat stood by the quay at Kilrush; soon after, it was boarded by seven people – five men and two women – and all seemed in good humour as the boat was pushed out into the Shannon. Ellen Walsh had been offered a passage to her home in Glynn by Scanlon, who was the owner. The other lady was 15-year-old Ellen Scanlon, who acted as steersman.

A storm forced a change of plan, with the boat making for Carrig Island where they would spend the night. Next morning after breakfast, Scanlon left the room. Ellen Scanlon was wearing two gold rings one plain and one carved. Her husband’s servant Stephen Sullivan approached her and removed the plain ring; she pleaded for its return, but Sullivan demanded money. He left to meet Scanlon without returning the ring. Soon they prepared to leave. Scanlon suggested that Ellen Walsh remain and he would collect her next morning, however Miss Walsh had overheard words to the effect of getting rid of that girl; she kicked up a fuss, supported by Ellie, and was eventually taken on board and brought to her home. That was the last time Ellie was seen alive.

Next day Ellen Walsh met Scanlon and enquired as to Ellie’s welfare and whereabouts; he replied that he had left her with his sister in Kilkee. Walsh became worried when she noticed Scanlon wearing Ellie’s carved ring and then saw Sullivan’s sister wearing a mantle which Ellie had proudly shown her the previous day. Six or seven weeks later, Ellen Walsh was asked to identify a body that had been taken from the Shannon near Moneypoint.

The body, which had been buried, was exhumed for the purpose. Ellen had one odd feature, a tooth projecting over another for a considerable distance on both sides of her jaw. The man who had buried her, named Driscol, swore the teeth were there at that time, but were now missing. This was the body of Ellen Scanlon (née Hanley).

The coroner’s jury on 10 September found that murder was committed by “John Scanlon or Stephen Sullivan or both” and a murder hunt got underway, but it was November before Scanlon was the first of the two arrested. His trial began on 14 March 1820. He was defended by the leading lawyer of the day, Daniel O’Connell (The Liberator), but the evidence of Miss Walsh, Patrick Connel and John Driscol, who found the body, and the broken-hearted John Connery persuaded the jury.

Scanlon was found guilty and sentenced to death. This was carried out, as was the practice at the time, 48 hours later. He pleaded his innocence even on the scaffold, stating: “When Sullivan is arrested, he will clear my name.”

Soon afterwards, Sullivan was arrested and tried in Limerick. He was also found guilty and sentenced to death, which was executed as in Scanlon’s case within 48 hours. Making his confession, he stated: “My Lord God, I confess to the murder of Ellen Scanlon, but it was her husband’s plan. I took her out in the boat, but seeing her innocence at first could not go through with it. I returned to shore where I was again persuaded by Scanlon to continue the boat trip and I completed the murder and disposed of the body, which was anchored by a large rock which Scanlon had left prepared in the boat.”

Only the killer could describe how the murder was executed, and there is no further evidence recorded from Sullivan. However, describing the state of the body when it was found, Driscol stated “there was a rope around her neck and the arm and thigh were broken”, which suggests she was possibly clubbed to death rather than being shot, as is often suggested as to how she was killed.