Michael Bohanan, a native of Gelha (Geeha?), Kinvara, County Galway, who came to this country 21 years ago; he served some time in the late American War; when last heard from he was in St. Louis, Mo, Information concerning him will be received by his brother Stephen Bohanan, Geneva, Ontario County, N.Y.
24th April, 1874
Michael Kelly, a native of the parish of Kinvara, County Galway; father’s name Patrick Kelly and mother’s name Eilen Cavanagh, who sailed from Londonderry seven years ago last March; he worked in the State of New York; he left there and went to Chester county, Pa., and worked there until January 1981 when he went to Philadelphia and enlisted in the navy. Information of him will be received by his brothers, James and Peter Cavanagh, Address James Cavanagh, Millstone Point, Waterbury, Connecticut
The Volume of the Old Year’s ended,
The Volume of the New, begun
To what have all these pages tended?
Mark, what is lost, and what is won.
The opening pages are bright and fair,
Now many a blot appears,
See, here the leaves are bleak and bare,
Further on, they are blurred with tears.
Close the book gently,
Lay it away,
To be opened again,
On the Judgement Day.
Now take the Volume for Sixty-two,
‘Tis all unwritten still,
God grant its blots will be far and few,
Perhaps, ’tis the last we may till.
May each high resolve, each virtuous deed,
Be as picturing’s on the page,
It will bring thee joy, in thy utmost need,
And the sorrows of death assuage.
Anon
During Christmas, placing a light in the window of one’s home is
a tradition in parts of the west of Ireland, including Kinvara. In the old days the cottage door was also left unlocked throughout the night and a member of the family watched in prayer. The tradition arose from the story of the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, following which, Joseph, Mary and Jesus wandered without shelter for fourteen days and nights.
Candles are placed in the windows to mark the event and offer safe refuge.
Kinvara – Politics, as they go, are still matters of conversational interest here. The Sinn Fein movement is mentioned by some with sympathy for motive and contempt for methods and organisation. The rising came as a surprise, if not a shock, to some persons, but there were, or are, scattered sympathisers or objectors to the more drastic of the methods of repression among the middle as well as the working classes. For among those who paid the inevitable penalty of revolt in time or war were some leaders of ripe scholarship and, in other respects, stainless lives; “Poets of the Insurrection” as they were called, whose mistakes of judgment, policy and method are lightly regarded by those of emotional temperament to whom disinterestedness primarily appeals. Discontent now turns on the recent check to Home Rule as expressed in the Government of Ireland Act 1914. There is a feeling that the political system – Union Government – is still the source of any economic maladjustment and that the country will at once flower under the working of autonomy.
the Hon. P.McM.Glynn K.C. Minister for Home and Territories.
This fine verse, which appeared in the “Bulletin” of the 19th ult. was, says the editor, censored while a Labour Government was in power in the Commonwealth. An appeal was made from the Censor to Ministers. Hugh Mahon came into conflict with his colleagues over it; but permission to publish it was still refused.
Ireland – 1916
All I revered was this my Island, she
Whom through the granite years I wept and loved;
All that I wished, to make my Island free
Of blood from mine a universe removed;
To seat here where the younger nations sit,
Her soul stripped clean of ancient sorrowings,
To dream my dream of Brian and the Kings,
To clothe my dream in flesh and worship it.
For this I bound the falcon to my side
In sinless sinning! For these things I died!
Right of the stronger, when the Norman came,
Rogued me and ravished me and buffeted,
Blackened and scotched my heart with steel and flame,
Cinctured with thorns my felon-shaven head.
The needy Frank and Gascon venturer,
Glutted from Senlac, hot for gear and gold,
Parcelled my land in march and baron-hold,
Hoarse-laughing at the comely shame of her,
Tortured but could not tame my plaintless pride.
This I remember, and for this I died!
Bruised and unbroken, swathed in sweat and rags,
Sobbing, yet valiant, shattered but unspent,
Housed in the bogland, hiding in the crags,
Dying a dog’s death, grim and well-content,
My poet soul out-daring dearth and death
Bondman of every motley creed and crew
Drank at the bitter cup of cycles, knew
The “spacious days of great Elizabeth”
If this I should forget, Christ and the Bride
Forget me also! For this, too, I died!
I was the spoil of all the centuries,
And am forgotten. Later wrongs outweigh
Mine, for the grief of men looks overseas,
And Belgium was the spoil of yesterday.
Can Time’s effluxion make injustice just?
Men’s memories are facile to forget
Poland’s Gethsemane and bloody sweat,
And the long grief that stamped my heart to dust!
O age-sought recompense by men denied,
By this I seek you, and for this I died!
Scotland I know, and how her valour’s crown,
Hard-won, scarce-held by scarp and mountain sleep,
Shone on her helm the hardy decades down,
Guarding the freedom that I could not keep;
And by the crown she linked at last with hers,
As by the nationhood I loved as she,
I swore it on my cross-hilt wistfully
My sons should be my land’s real worshippers.
And this my oath, sworn by the Crucified,
I held and hold to – and therefor I died!
Shall mercy spring from dull hearts trebly stoned?
Shall alien blood and alien creed allot
Betrayal where no fealty is owned,
Disloyalty where loyalty is not?
My blood upon the roadway reddens yet,
The iron of the years is in my soul,
The pen of Fate is set upon the scroll, I am what you have made! Can I forget?
These things I cherish; is it marvel, then,
I died for them, as I shall die again!
As will be seen from our advertising columns, Doorus annual sports will be held in Traught on Sunday, July 31. The committee have secured the services of the Athenry Pipers’ Bank. As this is the Band’s first visit to South Galway they are sure of a hearty cead mile failte, both in Dooras and Kinvara. The sports field is in close proximity to the already famous strand of Traught where tourists from all over the West come every summer to enjoy the beautiful scenery and natural bathing facilities offered there. Given a fine day, the public may be assured of enjoying the day’s outing.
