Soloheadbeg is a small townland about two and a half miles from Tipperary town, and less than a mile from the Limerick Junction. The quarry stands on an eminence on a little by-road. Farmhouses and cottages are dotted here and there in the neighbourhood, though there is no village nearer than Donohill, a mile and a half distant. It was in this plain, overshadowed by the gigantic figure of Galteemore away to the south, that Brian Boru and his brother Mahon fought their first great battle with the Danes in 968, when Brian with his gallant army of Tipperary men and Clare men routed the invaders, and never ceased from the pursuit till he reached Limerick twenty miles away and burned the town over their heads. The right wing of his army swept across the hills where the quarry now stands, as the defeated Danes fled to their stronghold. The quarry itself stands on the right, down the little by-road. There is a high ditch on each side of the road by which it is approached from Tipperary, and here and there is the further cover afforded by thick whitethorn bushes. I should explain that what we call a “ditch” in Tipperary is really a bank, or dike. Unfortunately our information regarding the date of the arrival of the explosives was not quite correct. We expected it on January 16th, but it did not come till five days later. During these five days we waited in readiness for the attempt. Our men had left their homes without giving any indication of their plans. After three days I had to send all home except eight. We had neither provisions to feed them nor money to purchase the provisions. And so the nine of us who remained were watching and waiting. The men who were with me were—Sean Treacy, Seumas Robinson, Sean Hogan, Tim Crowe, Patrick O’Dwyer, of Hollyford; Michael Ryan, of Grange (Donohill); Patrick McCormick, and Jack O’Meara, Tipperary. Our chief concern during these days of waiting was to avoid attracting attention. We did not want to be seen by any of the people in the locality. Those were nearly all employed at the quarry, and as the times were then disturbed enough any report that strangers were hanging around the neighbourhood might have completely upset our plans. Every morning before daybreak we went as noiselessly as possible to our hiding place, there to remain under cover, but ever on the alert, while one of our number acted as scout from the by-road to the main road from Tipperary, along which the peelers were bound to approach. There we waited in silence until 2 o’clock in the afternoon, and then we abandoned our position, knowing they would not come later, as they liked to be back in town before darkness set in. We spent the night at my own home, where my mother prepared breakfast each morning about 4 o’clock. On the fifth morning she declared, “If you don’t do something to-day you can get your own breakfast to-morrow.”