THE GARDEN OF MARTYRS, by Michael C. White, St. Martin’s Press, New York, 2004, 359 pages, $24.95.

Americans have always mistrusted – hated is probably a more accurate word – certain groups of foreigners. In New England in 1805, much of that fear and loathing was directed at Irish Catholics, who were only just beginning to trickle into Boston.

“They were considered little more than vermin, carriers of disease. They were thought to be ignorant and lazy and licentious. They were thought to be overly fond of their drink, everyone knew, and when drunk they became violent and wild, little better than animals. They had large families they couldn’t feed or clothe adequately, or raise to be law-abiding citizens,” writes Michael C. White of the prevailing attitudes of the time in his latest novel.

Two of these unlucky fellows were Dominic Daley and James Halligan. They stood accused of robbing and brutally murdering a young farmer, Marcus Lyons, on the Boston Post Road in Wilbraham, Mass.

White, an accomplished novelist, authentically recaptures this true story of how Daley, a husband and father, and Halligan were railroaded through the legal system in what would be considered a travesty of justice today. The book is a long, dreary march to the gallows, yet another sad, sorry example of how the nation’s justice system often fails to serve the accused when prejudice serves on the jury. Daley and Halligan were the Sacco and Vanzetti of their era and the results of that tale and others quite similar have been told many times.

The trouble with books like this is that we know the end before we start reading. The author has to work some magic to keep us interested in his story. Unfortunately, Daley and Halligan are rather predictable characters. Daley is a stalwart and caring family man, if not very bright; Halligan is an intelligent reprobate running from the events of his misspent youth. These are not particularly interesting characters, although Halligan occasionally rises to the occasion with his mental jousting with the Catholic priest who comes to care for them.

It is that priest, Jean Cheverus, however, who sparks the book to life. Much of the novel is seen through his eyes and it is he who the reader comes to care most about. Cheverus is fighting his own battle for redemption, having fled France during the Terror, which counted many priests among its victims. Cheverus will be recognized by readers of Maine history. Destined to be the first Bishop of Boston, he is the same man who spent part of his early career in Maine ministering to the state’s Catholics, white and Indian.

Cheverus’ struggle to save the souls of the accused murderers parallels his own struggle to overcome the guilt he still feels for having fled the Convent of Carmes in 1792, when a massacre of priests took place. He experiences recurrent visions of this bloody affair. Cheverus’ timidity and uncertainty in the face of danger endear him to the reader. He rises above these traits to become the book’s unlikely hero.

White has created two other characters that kept my attention as well. One was the alcoholic lawyer, Francis Blake, who was assigned to defend Daley and Halligan just a couple of days before the trial. He is talented and courageous, but the odds stacked against him are overwhelming.

The other character of interest is James Sullivan, another historical figure with Maine connections. Born in Berwick, Sullivan was an Irish Protestant because his family had renounced its faith after arriving in the New World. Sullivan is still known in Maine for having written a classic history of the region long before it was a state. Sullivan, portrayed as an avowed Catholic hater, had clashed with Cheverus once before, having him jailed on charges of marrying a couple in Newcastle without legal authority. He lost the case thanks to Cheverus’ skilled attorney.

By the time of the novel, Sullivan was Massachusetts’ politically ambitious attorney general. He was aiming to be governor and it was in his best interest to see that the two reviled Irishmen were convicted and executed. Indeed, Sullivan had his way, and eventually was elected governor.

This book is not beach reading. It will make any American with a conscience intensely uncomfortable. The reader may find himself skimming through the text looking for some faint gleam of hope that Daley and Halligan at least have a fighting chance to avoid the gallows. Throughout, however, all is gloom. Only Father Cheverus seems to overcome his own problems doing battle in this cauldron of ethnic and religious hatred.

At the end we are told that in 1984 Gov. Michael Dukakis pardoned Daley and Halligan, stating a miscarriage of justice had occurred. A monument acknowledging the fact sits on the small hill in Northampton where they were hung. It won’t seem quite enough to anyone who reads this novel.

Wayne E. Reilly can be reached at wreilly@bangordailynews.net.