Photo: Rainer Zenz
Wikimedia Commons
(abridged)
Some in the west of Ireland, it is said, will never leave an egg shell open at one end only. They will always thrust a spoon through the lower end. Otherwise some wicked spirit will seize upon the shell and make a boat of it, in which to sail the soul of the careless person to destruction.
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Without fear of contradiction – 1826
Latest English News.
[THE REPRESENTATIVE.]
(abridged)
On Thursday night the Earl of Darnley stated that, “without any fear of contradiction, he could assert the condition of the slave in the West Indies to be by no means so bad as the condition of the peasant in the West of Ireland.”
The Earl is intimately connected with Ireland. He is, in.fact, the owner of 30,000 acres of the land on which about 20,000 of the seven millions are fed. He is one of the few Irish proprietors who constantly reside upon their estates, who are indefatigable in promoting the improvement of their own property, while they humanely adopt every means of ameliorating the condition of their tenantry. He is, one of the few landlords who can speak from personal experience, and does not depend for his information upon the reports of agents and factors.
When his Lordship describes the condition of the Irish as infinitely more wretched than the state of the West India slave, his description is applicable, not, we presume, to his own tenantry, but to the tenants of less considerate landowners, who have deserted their estates.
More power to your elbow – 1922
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(abridged)
Dear Sir,
Quite recently you used the phrase “more power to your elbow.” I wondered did you know the origin of it?
There were ten musical instruments in use among the ancient irish. Of these there were two kinds of bagpipes. The piob mor, or war pipes, referred to in the Brehon Laws of the fifth century, and the Uileann pipes, Shakespeare called them “woolen” which came into general vogue about the year 1760. They were called Uilleann because they were worked by the elbow, hence giving rise to the phrase you used, “more power to your elbow.”
Cathal O’Byrne
Marching in tune – 1868
Wikimedia Commons
Two men, named Thomas Green and Michael Flynn, house painters, were recently arrested on a charge of illegal drilling, near Ennis. At petty sessions evidence was given by the police that on Sunday night May 10th, they met a party of men marching two deep, with a fiddler in front playing a tune.
Such words as ‘forward’, ‘keep the step’, and ‘mind your wheeling at the cross’, were used. One by the name of Hogan appeared to be the captain.
A witness was procured for the defense to prove that the men were merely returning from a dance and had brought a fiddler with them.
The Lost Dragoon – 1830
Wikimedia Commons
The Lost Dragoon (abridged)
It is not generally known, that underneath the walls of Trinity College, Dublin, there is a range of gloomy vaults, in which are entombed many of the illustrious dead of the Irish capital. This cemetery has been shut for many years.
About the time when it began to be disused, a melancholy and affecting circumstance occurred. An officer of the 4th Dragoons, who had enjoyed the affec- tions of a fair Hibernian maid, chanced to be on guard at the Castle. A funeral procession passed him; and seeing that the remains of some person of consequence were about to be consigned to the earth in a private and un ostentatious manner, curiosity prompted him to follow in the melancholy train.
The procession took the direction of the College, and, passing under the archway, arrived at the entrance to the vaults. Here was seen the last of the gallant soldier.
He was, missed from his guard : his place at the mess table (which he used to enliven with his hilarity and good rnmour) remained empty that evening. The follow ing morning his mistress, in the figurative language of the East “dropped the an- chor of hope in a harbour of anxiety” and conjecture was at a stand-still to account for his protracted absence.
Months, a year rolled past, still no tidings of the absentee. At last another funeral winded its way towards the Trinity vaults. The mourners descended into their dark recesses. In passing along one of the sepulchral galleries, their feet crushed the bones of a skeleton. Imagine their astonishment, when they observed beside it a steel casque and rusted sabre. Bones, sword-belt and pouch lay near.
There followed a great deal of speculation as to the identity of the unfortunate individual, who evidently had strayed into the vaults and had lost himself in their gloom, to starve to death. It was eventualy found out to be the young and ill- fated dragoon.
The Boy Chieftain – 1884
excerpt – BRIAN OF MUNSTER: THE BOY CHIEFTAIN
(by E.S.Brooks in St Nicholas)
And with this defiance the boy chieftain and ‘the young champions of the tribe of Cas’ went into the woods and fastnesses of County Clare, and for months kept up a fierce guerilla warfare. The Danish tyrants knew neither peace nor rest from his swift and sudden attacks. Much booty of ‘satins and silken cloths, both scarlet and green, pleasing jewels and saddles beautiful and foreign’ did they lose to this active young chieftain, and much tribute of cows and hogs and other possessions did he force from them. So dauntless an outlaw did he become that his name struck terror from Galway Bay to the banks of the Shannon and Lough Derg to the Burren of Clare.
Shelled by warship – 1916
Wikimedia Commons
ST JOHN’S DAILY STAR 3rd MAY 1916
REBS SHELLED BY WARSHIP
Dublin May 3
The situation in Galway resulting from the Irish revolt has been serious, according to advices just received.
On Tuesday, April 23rd twelve hundred rebels, approaching from Oranmore were within three miles of Galway when a naval vessel shelled them from Galway Bay compelling them to retire to Moyard Castle.
At Athenry on the following day another naval vessel landed one hundred soldiers who forced other rebels to retire towards the castle.
Encounters resulted in a number of casualties.
1880
MEMPHIS DAILY APPEAL 10TH FEBRUARY, 1880 P 1
A correspondent of the London Standard, travelling in Ireland, narrates an incident which speaks for the hesitancy of the Irish poor to obtrude their misery;
“A starving woman in Galway, after a furtive glance around to see that none who knew her were in sight, told the correspondent that neither she nor her children had eaten food for a day and a half, and she apologetically explained that she only asked for help as his honor was a stranger.”
Legends of the County Clare -1855
Edouard Manet (1832–1883)
Walters Art Museum
LEGENDS OF THE COUNTY’ CLARE (abridged)
About two miles from the village of Corofin,’in the west of Clare, are the ruins of the Castle of Ballyportree. It is a massive square tower surrounded by a wall, at the corners of which are smaller round towers. The outer wall was also surrounded by a ditch. The castle is so intact the lower part is inhabited by a farmer’s family. In some of the upper rooms massive chimneypieces of grey limestone, of a very modern form, still remain. The horizontal portions of the chimneys are ornamented with a quatrefoil ornament engraved within a circle, but there are no dates or armorial bearings.
From the windows of the castle four others are visible, none of them more than two miles from each other; and a very large cromlech is within a few yards of the castle ditch. The following legend is related to the castle;
When the Danes were building the castle they collected workmen from all quarters, and forced them to labour night and day without stopping for rest or food ; and according as any of them fell down from exhaustion, his body was thrown upon the wall, which was built up over him ! When the castle was finished, its inhabitants tyrannised the whole country, until when the Danes were finally expelled from Ireland.
Ballyportree Castle held out to the last, but at length it was taken after a fierce resistance. Only three of the garrison were found alive, a father and his two sons. The infuriated conquerors were about to kill them also, when one proposed their lives should be spared, and a free passage to their own country given them, on condition that they taught the Irishmen how to brew their famous ale from heather. That secret was eagerly coveted by the Irish, and zealously guarded by the Danes.
At first neither promises nor threats had any effect on the prisoners, but at length the elder warrior consented to tell the secret on condition his sons should first be put to death before his eyes. He said he feared if he returned to his own country, they might cause him to be put to death for betraying the secret. Though somewhat surprised at his request, the Irish chieftains immediately complied with it, and the young men were slain. Then the old warrior exclaimed,
‘ Fools ! I saw that your threats and your promises were beginning to influence my sons; for they were but boys, and might have yielded : but now the secret is safe, your threats or your promises have no effect on me ! ‘
Enraged at their disappointment, the Irish soldiers hewed the stern northman in pieces, and the coveted secret is still unrevealed.
In the South of Scotland a legend, almost word for word the same as the above, is told of an old castle there, with the exception that, instead of Danes, the old warrior and his sons are called Picts.
St John’s Day – 1827
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The Monitor 10th December 19 1827
(abridged)
—
On St.John’s Day, about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, a crowd of men, women and children were observed, rushing down Marlborough-street, near to Thomas Church, shouting and yelling, and tossing something in the air, which was sometimes caught by one, and sometimes. by another, and occasionally fell to the earth, where there was a scramble for it, and it was again passed from one to another amidst the most diabolical yells, which on a nearer approach, were distinguished to be ” A witch ! A witch ! Burn the witch ! Drown the witch!”
The said witch proved to be a very decently dressed, dwarfish, deformed female, A young gentleman, apparently about 18, appealed to several well-dressed spectators to aid him in saving the poor woman from being torn to pieces. They, from terror of the mob, declined. He rushed into the midst of the crowd and courageously bore the helpless female under one arm, while with the other made his way through the crowd, who directed their vengeance against him pushing, pulling, and tripping him, and pelting him with mud; and whatever came to their hands.He was soon bedaubed from head to foot.
Making his way down Cumberland street and Mecklenburg street, he appealed to three or four soldiers who were looking on. They directly surrounded him, and two gentlemen then aided him. One of them took one hand, and her rescuer the other of the poor sinking dwarf, and pulled her through the increasing crowd, to the Police-office in Henry-street.
At the Post-Office a few policemen luckily came up, and were compelled to do ample justice with their sticks on the savage crowd, before they got the poor creature into the Police-office. She was not able to speak for some time, from ill-usage and terror, and then returned lively thanks to her deliverers. She gave her name, and said she resided with a relative in Camden-street. She said that though she had been frequently gazed at, so as to distress her feelings, she had never before met with violence.
She was sent home the back way, after some time, with an escort of police.
The Burren and Beyond 