{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_11260/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_11260","id":"gutenberg_11260","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11260","summary":null,"tags":["Ballads, English -- Ireland -- Texts","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's History","English poetry -- Irish authors","Folk songs, English -- Ireland -- Texts","Folklore -- Ireland","Ireland -- Poetry"],"text":"THE KILTARTAN HISTORY BOOK.\n\nBY LADY GREGORY.\n\n\nILLUSTRATED\n\nBY ROBERT GREGORY\n\n\n\n_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_\n\nSeven Short Plays\n\nCuchulain of Muirthemne\n\nGods and Fighting Men\n\nPoets and Dreamers\n\nA Book of Saints and Wonders\n\n\n\nDEDICATED AND RECOMMENDED TO THE HISTORY CLASSES IN THE NEW UNIVERSITY\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  The Ancient Times\n  Goban, the Builder\n  A Witty Wife\n  An Advice She Gave\n  Shortening the Road\n  The Goban's Secret\n  The Scotch Rogue\n  The Danes\n  The Battle of Clontarf\n  The English\n  The Queen of Breffny\n  King Henry VIII.\n  Elizabeth\n  Her Death\n  The Trace of Cromwell\n  Cromwell's Law\n  Cromwell in Connacht\n  A Worse than Cromwell\n  The Battle of Aughrim\n  The Stuarts\n  Another Story\n  Patrick Sarsfield\n  Queen Anne\n  Carolan's Song\n  'Ninety-Eight\n  Denis Browne\n  The Union\n  Robert Emmet\n  O'Connell's Birth\n  The Tinker\n  A Present\n  His Strategy\n  The Man was Going to be Hanged\n  The Cup of the Sassanach\n  The Thousand Fishers\n  What the Old Women Saw\n  O'Connell's Hat\n  The Change He Made\n  The Man He Brought to Justice\n  The Binding\n  His Monument\n  A Praise Made for Daniel O'Connell by Old Women and They Begging\n    at the Door\n  Richard Shiel\n  The Tithe War\n  The Fight at Carrickshock\n  The Big Wind\n  The Famine\n  The Cholera\n  A Long Remembering\n  The Terry Alts\n  The '48 Time\n  A Thing Mitchell Said\n  The Fenian Rising\n  A Great Wonder\n  Another Wonder\n  Father Mathew\n  The War of the Crimea\n  Garibaldi\n  The Buonapartes\n  The Zulu War\n  The Young Napoleon\n  Parnell\n  Mr. Gladstone\n  Queen Victoria's Religion\n  Her Wisdom\n  War and Misery\n  The Present King\n  The Old Age Pension\n  Another Thought\n  A Prophecy\n\nNOTES\n\n\n\n\nTHE KILTARTAN HISTORY BOOK\n\n\nTHE ANCIENT TIMES\n\n\"As to the old history of Ireland, the first man ever died in Ireland\nwas Partholan, and he is buried, and his greyhound along with him, at\nsome place in Kerry. The Nemidians came after that and stopped for a\nwhile, and then they all died of some disease. And then the Firbolgs\ncame, the best men that ever were in Ireland, and they had no law but\nlove, and there was never such peace and plenty in Ireland. What\nreligion had they? None at all. And there was a low-sized race came that\nworked the land of Ireland a long time; they had their time like the\nothers. Many would tell you Grania slept under the cromlechs, but I\ndon't believe that, and she a king's daughter. And I don't believe she\nwas handsome either. If she was, why would she have run away? In the old\ntime the people had no envy, and they would be writing down the stories\nand the songs for one another. But they are too venemous now to do that.\nAnd as to the people in the towns, they don't care for such things now,\nthey are too corrupted with drink.\"\n\n\nGOBAN, THE BUILDER\n\n\"The Goban was the master of sixteen trades. There was no beating him;\nhe had got the gift. He went one time to Quin Abbey when it was\nbuilding, looking for a job, and the men were going to their dinner, and\nhe had poor clothes, and they began to jibe at him, and the foreman said\n'Make now a cat-and-nine-tails while we are at our dinner, if you are\nany good.' And he took the chisel and cut it in the rough in the stone,\na cat with nine tails coming from it, and there it was complete when\nthey came out from their dinner. There was no beating him. He learned no\ntrade, but he was master of sixteen. That is the way, a man that has the\ngift will get more out of his own brain than another will get through\nlearning. There is many a man without learning will get the better of a\ncollege-bred man, and will have better words too. Those that make\ninventions in these days have the gift, such a man now as Edison, with\nall he has got out of electricity.\"\n\n\nA WITTY WIFE\n\n\"The Goban Saor was a mason and a smith, and he could do all things, and\nhe was very witty. He was going from home one time and he said to the\nwife 'If it is a daughter you have this time I'll kill you when I come\nback'; for up to that time he had no sons, but only daughters. And it\nwas a daughter she had; but a neighbouring woman had a son at the same\ntime, and they made an exchange to save the life of the Goban's wife.\nBut when the boy began to grow up he had no wit, and the Goban knew by\nthat he was no son of his. That is the reason he wanted a witty wife\nfor him. So there came a girl to the house one day, and the Goban Saor\nbade her look round at all that was in the room, and he said 'Do you\nthink a couple could get a living out of this?' 'They could not,' she\nsaid. So he said she wouldn't do, and he sent her away. Another girl\ncame another day, and he bade her take notice of all that was in the\nhouse, and he said 'Do you think could a couple knock a living out of\nthis?' 'They could if they stopped in it,' she said. So he said that\ngirl would do. Then he asked her could she bring a sheepskin to the\nmarket and bring back the price of it, and the skin itself as well. She\nsaid she could, and she went to the market, and there she pulled off the\nwool and sold it and brought back the price and the skin as well. Then\nhe asked could she go to the market and not be dressed or undressed. And\nshe went having only one shoe and one stocking on her, so she was\nneither dressed or undressed. Then he sent her to walk neither on the\nroad or off the road, and she walked on the path beside it. So he said\nthen she would do as a wife for his son.\"\n\n\nAN ADVICE SHE GAVE\n\n\"One time some great king or lord sent for the Goban to build a\n_caislean_ for him, and the son's wife said to him before he went 'Be\nalways great with the women of the house, and always have a comrade\namong them.' So when the Goban went there he coaxed one of the women the\nsame as if he was not married. And when the castle was near built, the\nwoman told him the lord was going to play him a trick, and to kill him\nor shut him up when he had the castle made, the way he would not build\none for any-other lord that was as good. And as she said, the lord came\nand bade the Goban to make a cat and two-tails, for no one could make\nthat but himself, and it was meaning to kill him on it he was. And the\nGoban said he would do that when he had finished the castle, but he\ncould not finish it without some tool he had left at home. And they must\nsend the lord's son for it--- for he said it would not be given to any\nother one. So the son was sent, and the Goban sent a message to the\ndaughter-in-law that the tool he was wanting was called 'When you open\nit shut it.' And she was surprised, for there was no such tool in the\nhouse; but she guessed by the message what she had to do, and there was\na big chest in the house and she set it open. 'Come now,' she said to\nthe young man,' look in the chest and find it for yourself.' And when he\nlooked in she gave him a push forward, and in he went, and she shut the\nlid on him. She wrote a letter to the lord then, saying he would not get\nhis son back till he had sent her own two men, and they were sent back\nto her.\"\n\n\nSHORTENING THE ROAD\n\n\"Himself and his son were walking the road together one day, and the\nGoban said to the son 'Shorten the road for me.' So the son began to\nwalk fast, thinking that would do it, but the Goban sent him back home\nwhen he didn't understand what to do. The next day they were walking\nagain, and the Goban said again to shorten the road for him, and this\ntime he began to run, and the Goban sent him home again. When he went in\nand told the wife he was sent home the second time, she began to think,\nand she said, 'When he bids you shorten the road, it is that he wants\nyou to be telling him stories.' For that is what the Goban meant, but it\ntook the daughter-in-law to understand it. And it is what I was saying\nto that other woman, that if one of ourselves was making a journey, if\nwe had another along with us, it would not seem to be one half as long\nas if we would be alone. And if that is so with us, it is much more with\na stranger, and so I went up the hill with you to shorten the road,\ntelling you that story.\"\n\n\nTHE GOBAN'S SECRET\n\n\"The Goban and his son were seven years building the castle, and they\nnever said a word all that time. And at the end of seven years the son\nwas at the top, and he said 'I hear a cow lowing.' And the Goban said\nthen 'Make all strong below you, for the work is done,' and they went\nhome. The Goban never told the secret of his building, and when he was\non the bed dying they wanted to get it from him, and they went in and\nsaid 'Claregalway Castle is after falling in the night.' And the Goban\nsaid 'How can that be when I put a stone in and a stone out and a stone\nacross.' So then they knew the way he built so well.\"\n\n\nTHE SCOTCH ROGUE\n\n\"One time he was on the road going to the town, and there was a Scotch\nrogue on the road that was always trying what could he pick off others,\nand he saw the Connemara man--that was the Goban--had a nice cravat, and\nhe thought he would get a hold of that. So he began talking with him,\nand he was boasting of all the money he had, and the Goban said whatever\nit was he had three times as much as it, and he with only thirty pounds\nin the world. And the Scotch rogue thought he would get some of it from\nhim, and he said he would go to a house in the town, and he gave him\nsome food and some drink there, and the Goban said he would do the same\nfor him on the morrow. So then the Goban went out to three houses, and\nin each of them he left ten pounds of his thirty pounds, and he told the\npeople in every house what they had to do, and that when he would strike\nthe table with his hat three times they would bring out the money. So\nthen he asked the Scotch rogue into the first house, and ordered every\nsort of food and drink, ten pounds worth in all. And when they had used\nall they could of it, he struck with his hat on the table, and the man\nof the house brought out the ten pounds, and the Goban said 'Keep that\nto pay what I owe you.' The second day he did the same thing in another\nhouse. And in the third house they went to he ordered ten pounds worth\nof food and drink in the same way. And when the time came to pay, he\nstruck the table with the hat, and there was the money in the hand of\nthe man of the house before them. 'That's a good little caubeen,' said\nthe Scotch rogue, 'when striking it on the table makes all that money\nappear.' 'It is a wishing hat,' said the Goban; 'anything I wish for I\ncan get as long as I have that.' 'Would you sell it?' said the Scotch\nrogue. 'I would not,' said the Goban. 'I have another at home, but I\nwouldn't sell one or the other.' 'You may as well sell it, so long as\nyou have another at home,' said the Scotch rogue. 'What will you give\nfor it?' says the Goban. 'Will you give three hundred pounds for it?' 'I\nwill give that,' says the Scotch rogue, 'when it will bring me all the\nwealth I wish for.' So he went out and brought the three hundred pound,\nand gave it to the Goban, and he got the caubeen and went away with it,\nand it not worth three halfpence. There was no beating the Goban.\nWherever he got it, he had got the gift.\"\n\n\nTHE DANES\n\n\"The reason of the wisps and the fires on Saint John's Eve is that one\ntime long ago the Danes came and took the country and conquered it, and\nthey put a soldier to mind every house through the whole country. And at\nlast the people made up their mind that on one night they would kill its\nsoldiers. So they did as they said, and there wasn't one left, and that\nis why they light the wisps ever since. It was Brian Boroihme was the\nfirst to light them. There was not much of an army left to the Danes\nthat time, for he made a great scatter of them. A great man he was, and\nhis own son was as good, that is Murrough. It was the wife brought him\nto his end, Gormleith. She was for war, and he was all for peace. And he\ngot to be very pious, too pious, and old and she got tired of that.\"\n\n\nTHE BATTLE OF CLONTARF\n\n\"Clontarf was on the head of a game of chess. The generals of the Danes\nwere beaten at it, and they were vexed; and Cennedigh was killed on a\nhill near Fermoy. He put the Holy Gospels in his breast as a protection,\nbut he was struck through them with a reeking dagger. It was Brodar,\nthat the Brodericks are descended from, that put a dagger through\nBrian's heart, and he attending to his prayers. What the Danes left in\nIreland were hens and weasels. And when the cock crows in the morning\nthe country people will always say 'It is for Denmark they are crowing.\nCrowing they are to be back in Denmark.'\"\n\n\nTHE ENGLISH\n\n\"It was a long time after that, the Pope encouraged King Henry to take\nIreland. It was for a protection he did it, Henry being of his own\nreligion, and he fearing the Druids or the Danes might invade Ireland.\"\n\n\nTHE QUEEN OF BREFFNY\n\n\"Dervorgilla was a red-haired woman, and it was she put the great curse\non Ireland, bringing in the English through MacMurrough, that she went\nto from O'Rourke. It was to Henry the Second MacMurrough went, and he\nsent Strongbow, and they stopped in Ireland ever since. But who knows\nbut another race might be worse, such as the Spaniards that were\nscattered along the whole coast of Connacht at the time of the Armada.\nAnd the laws are good enough. I heard it said the English will be dug\nout of their graves one day for the sake of their law. As to\nDervorgilla, she was not brought away by force, she went to MacMurrough\nherself. For there are men in the world that have a coaxing way, and\nsometimes women are weak.\"\n\n\nKING HENRY VIII.\n\n\"Henry the Eighth was crying and roaring and leaping out of the bed for\nthree days and nights before his death. And he died cursing his\nchildren, and he that had eight millions when he came to the Throne,\ncoining leather money at the end.\"\n\n\nELIZABETH\n\n\"Queen Elizabeth was awful. Beyond everything she was. When she came to\nthe turn she dyed her hair red, and whatever man she had to do with, she\nsent him to the block in the morning, that he would be able to tell\nnothing. She had an awful temper. She would throw a knife from the table\nat the waiting ladies, and if anything vexed her she would maybe work\nupon the floor. A thousand dresses she left after her. Very\nsuperstitious she was. Sure after her death they found a card, the ace\nof hearts, nailed to her chair under the seat. She thought she would\nnever die while she had it there. And she bought a bracelet from an old\nwoman out in Wales that was over a hundred years. It was superstition\nmade her do that, and they found it after her death tied about her\nneck.\"\n\n\nHER DEATH\n\n\"It was a town called Calais brought her to her death, and she lay\nchained on the floor three days and three nights. The Archbishop was\ntrying to urge her to eat, but she said 'You would not ask me to do it\nif you knew the way I am,' for nobody could see the chains. After her\ndeath they waked her for six days in Whitehall, and there were six\nladies sitting beside the body every night. Three coffins were about\nit, the one nearest the body of lead, and then a wooden one, and a\nleaden one on the outside. And every night there came from them a great\nbellow. And the last night there came a bellow that broke the three\ncoffins open, and tore the velvet, and there came out a stench that\nkilled the most of the ladies and a million of the people of London with\nthe plague. Queen Victoria was more honourable than that. It would be\nhard to beat Queen Elizabeth.\"\n\n\nTHE TRACE OF CROMWELL\n\n\"I'll tell you now about the trace of Cromwell. There was a young lady\nwas married to a gentleman, and she died with her first baby, and she\nwas brought away into a forth by the fairies, the good people, as I\nsuppose. She used to be sitting on the side of it combing her hair, and\nthree times her husband saw her there, but he had not the courage to go\nand to bring her away. But there was a man of the name of Howley living\nnear the forth, and he went out with his gun one day and he saw her\nbeside the forth, and he brought her away to his house, and a young baby\nsprang between them at the end of a year. One day the husband was out\nshooting and he came in upon Howley's land, and when young Howley heard\nthe shooting he rose up and went out and he bade the gentleman to stop,\nfor this was his land. So he stopped, and he said he was weary and\nthirsty, and he asked could he rest in the house. So young Howley said\nas long as he asked pardon he had leave to use what he liked. So he came\nin the house and he sat at the table, and he put his two eyes through\nthe young lady. 'If I didn't see her dead and buried,' he said, 'I'd say\nthat to be my own wife.' 'Oh!' said she, 'so I am your wife, and you are\nbadly worthy of me, and you have the worst courage ever I knew, that you\nwould not come and bring me away out of the forth as young Howley had\nthe courage to bring me,' she said. So then he asked young Howley would\nhe give him back his wife. 'I will give her,' he said, 'but you never\nwill get the child.' So the child was reared, and when he was grown he\nwent travelling up to Dublin. And he was at a hunt, and he lost the top\nof his boot, and he went into a shoemaker's shop and he gave him half a\nsovereign for nothing but to put the tip on the boot, for he saw he was\npoor and had a big family. And more than that, when he was going away he\ntook out three sovereigns and gave them to the blacksmith, and he looked\nat one of the little chaps, and he said 'That one will be in command of\nthe whole of England.' 'Oh, that cannot be,' said the blacksmith, 'where\nI am poor and have not the means to do anything for him.' 'It will be as\nI tell you,' said he, 'and write me out now a docket,' he said, 'that\nif ever that youngster will come to command Ireland, he will give me a\nfree leg.' So the docket was made out, and he brought it away with him.\nAnd sure enough, the shoemaker's son listed, and was put at the head of\nsoldiers, and got the command of England, and came with his soldiers to\nput down Ireland. And Howley saw them coming and he tied his\nhandkerchief to the top of his stick, and when Cromwell saw that, he\nhalted the army, 'For there is some poor man in distress,' he said. Then\nHowley showed him the docket his father had written. 'I will do some\ngood thing for you on account of that,' said Cromwell; 'and go now to\nthe top of that high cliff,' he said, 'and I'll give as much land as you\ncan see from it.' And so he did give it to him. It was no wonder Howley\nto have known the shoemaker's son would be in command and all would\nhappen him, because of his mother that got knowledge in the years she\nwas in the forth. That is the trace of Cromwell. I heard it at a wake,\nand I would believe it, and if I had time to put my mind to it, and if I\nwas not on the road from Loughrea to Ballyvaughan, I could give you the\nfoundations of it better.\"\n\n\nCROMWELL'S LAW\n\n\"I'll tell you about Cromwell and the White Friars. There was a White\nFriar at that time was known to have knowledge, and Cromwell sent word\nto him to come see him. It was of a Saturday he did that, of an Easter\nSaturday, but the Friar never came. On the Sunday Cromwell sent for him\nagain, and he didn't come. And on the Monday he sent for him the third\ntime, and he did come. 'Why is it you did not come to me when I sent\nbefore?' said Cromwell. 'I'll tell you that,' said the White Friar. 'I\ndidn't come on Saturday,' he said, 'because your passion was on you. And\nI didn't come on the Sunday,' he said, 'because your passion was not\ngone down enough, and I thought you would not give me my steps. But I\ncame to-day,' he said, 'because your passion is cool.' When Cromwell\nheard his answer, 'That is true,' he said, 'and tell me how long my law\nwill last in Ireland.' 'It will last,' says the White Friar, 'till\nyesterday will come (that was Easter Sunday) the same day as our Lady\nDay.' Cromwell was satisfied then, and he gave him a free leg, and he\nwent away. And so that law did last till now, and it's well it did, for\nwithout that law in the country you wouldn't be safe walking the road\nhaving so much as the price of a pint of porter in your pocket.\"\n\n\nCROMWELL IN CONNACHT\n\n\"Cromwell cleared the road before him. If any great man stood against\nhim he would pull down his castle the same as he pulled down that\ncastle of your own, Ballinamantane, that is down the road. He never got\nmore than two hours sleep or three, or at the most four, but starting up\nfearing his life would be peppered. There was a word he sounded out to\nthe Catholics, 'To hell or Connacht,' and the reason he did that was\nthat Connacht was burned bare, and he that thought to pass the winter\nthere would get no lodging at all. Himself and his men travelled it, and\nthey never met with anything that had human breath put in it by God till\nthey came to Breffny, and they saw smoke from a chimney, and they\nsurrounded the house and went into it. And what they saw was a skeleton\nover the fire roasting, and the people of the house picking flesh off it\nwith the bits of a hook. And when they saw that, they left them there.\nIt was a Clare man that burned Connacht so bare; he was worse than\nCromwell, and he made a great slaughter in the house of God at Clonmel.\nThe people have it against his family yet, and against the whole County\nof Clare.\"\n\n\nA WORSE THAN CROMWELL\n\n\"Cromwell was very bad, but the drink is worse. For a good many that\nCromwell killed should go to heaven, but those that are drunken never\nsee heaven. And as to drink, a man that takes the first glass is as\nquiet and as merry as a pet lamb; and after the second glass he is as\nknacky as a monkey; and after the third glass he is as ready for battle\nas a lion; and after the fourth glass he is like a swine as he is. 'I am\nthirsty' [IRISH: Ta Tart Orm], that was one of our Lord's seven words on\nthe Cross, where he was dry. And a man far off would have given him\ndrink; but there was a drunkard at the foot of the Cross, and he\nprevented him.\"\n\n\nTHE BATTLE OF AUGHRIM\n\n\"That was a great slaughter at Aughrim. St. Ruth wanted to do all\nhimself, he being a foreigner. He gave no plan of the battle to\nSarsfield, but a written command to stop where he was, and Sarsfield\nknew no more than yourself or myself in the evening before it happened.\nIt was Colonel Merell's wife bade him not go to the battle, where she\nknew it would go bad with him through a dream. But he said that meant\nthat he would be crowned, and he went out and was killed. That is what\nthe poem says:\n\n  If Caesar listened to Calpurnia's dream\n  He had not been by Pompey's statue slain.\n\nAll great men gave attention to dreams, though the Church is against\nthem now. It is written in Scripture that Joseph gave attention to his\ndream. But Colonel Merell did not, and so he went to his death. Aughrim\nwould have been won if it wasn't for the drink. There was too much of it\ngiven to the Irish soldiers that day--drink and spies and traitors.\nThe English never won a battle in Ireland in fair fight, but getting\nspies and setting the people against one another. I saw where Aughrim\nwas fought, and I turned aside from the road to see the tree where St\nRuth was killed. The half of it is gone like snuff. That was spies too,\na Colonel's daughter that told the English in what place St. Ruth would\nbe washing himself at six o'clock in the morning. And it was there he\nwas shot by one O'Donnell, an Englishman. He shot him from six miles\noff. The Danes were dancing in the raths around Aughrim the night after\nthe battle. Their ancestors were driven out of Ireland before; and they\nwere glad when they saw those that had put them out put out themselves,\nand every one of them skivered.\"\n\n[ILLUSTRATION: WILLIAM III]\n\n\nTHE STUARTS\n\n\"As to the Stuarts, there are no songs about them and no praises in the\nWest, whatever there may be in the South. Why would there, and they\nrunning away and leaving the country the way they did? And what good did\nthey ever do it? James the Second was a coward. Why didn't he go into\nthe thick of the battle like the Prince of Orange? He stopped on a hill\nthree miles away, and rode off to Dublin, bringing the best of his\ntroops with him. There was a lady walking in the street at Dublin when\nhe got there, and he told her the battle was lost, and she said 'Faith\nyou made good haste; you made no delay on the road.' So he said no more\nafter that. The people liked James well enough before he ran; they\ndidn't like him after that.\"\n\n\nANOTHER STORY\n\n\"Seumus Salach, Dirty James, it is he brought all down. At the time of\nthe battle there was one of his men said, 'I have my eye cocked, and all\nthe nations will be done away with,' and he pointing his cannon. 'Oh!'\nsaid James, 'Don't make a widow of my daughter.' If he didn't say that,\nthe English would have been beat. It was a very poor thing for him to\ndo.\"\n\n\nPATRICK SARSFIELD\n\n\"Sarsfield was a great general the time he turned the shoes on his\nhorse. The English it was were pursuing him, and he got off and changed\nthe shoes the way when they saw the tracks they would think he went\nanother road. That was a great plan. He got to Limerick then, and he\nkilled thousands of the English. He was a great general.\"\n\n\nQUEEN ANNE\n\n\"The Georges were fair; they left all to the Government; but Anne was\nvery bad and a tyrant. She tyrannised over the Irish. She died\nbroken-hearted with all the bad things that were going on about her. For\nQueen Anne was very wicked; oh, very wicked, indeed!\"\n\n\nCAROLAN'S SONG\n\n\"Carolan that could play the fiddle and the harp used to be going about\nwith Cahil-a-Corba, that was a tambourine man. But they got tired of one\nanother and parted, and Carolan went to the house of the King of Mayo,\nand he stopped there, and the King asked him to stop for his lifetime.\nThere came a grand visitor one time, and when he heard Carolan singing\nand playing and his fine pleasant talk, he asked him to go with him on a\nvisit to Dublin. So Carolan went, and he promised the King of Mayo he\nwould come back at the end of a month. But when he was at the\ngentleman's house he liked it so well that he stopped a year with him,\nand it wasn't till the Christmas he came back to Mayo. And when he got\nthere the doors were shut, and the King was at his dinner, and Queen\nMary and the three daughters, and he could see them through the windows.\nBut when the King saw him he said he would not let him in. He was vexed\nwith him and angry he had broken his promise and his oath. So Carolan\nbegan to give out a song he had made about the King of Mayo and all his\nfamily, and he brought Queen Mary into it and the three daughters. Then\nthe Queen asked leave of the King to bring him in, because he made so\ngood a song, but the King would not give in to it. Then Carolan began to\ndraw down the King of Mayo's father and his grandfather into the song.\nAnd Queen Mary asked again for forgiveness for him, and the King gave\nit that time because of the song that had in it the old times, and the\nold generations went through him. But as to Cahil-a-Corba, he went to\nanother gentleman's house and he stopped too long in it and was driven\nout. But he came back, having changed his form, that the gentleman did\nnot know him, and he let him in again, and then he was forgiven.\"\n\n\n'NINETY-EIGHT\n\n\"In the year '98 there were the Yeomanry that were the worst of all. The\ntime Father Murphy was killed there was one of them greased his boots in\nhis heart. There was one of them was called Micky the Devil in Irish; he\nnever went out without the pitchcap and the triangle, and any rebel he\nwould meet he would put gunpowder in his hair and set a light to it. The\nNorth Cork Militia were the worst; there are places in Ireland where you\nwould not get a drink of water if they knew you came from Cork. And it\nwas the very same, the North Cork, that went of their own free will to\nthe Boer war, volunteered, asked to go that is. They had the same sting\nin them always. A great many of them were left dead in that war, and a\ngreat many better men than themselves. There was one battle in that war\nthere was no quarter given, the same as Aughrim; and the English would\nkill the wounded that would be left upon the field of battle. There is\nno Christianity in war.\"\n\n\nDENIS BROWNE\n\n\"There is a tree near Denis Browne's house that used to be used for\nhanging men in the time of '98, he being a great man in that time, and\nHigh Sheriff of Mayo, and it is likely the gentlemen were afeared, and\nthat there was bad work at nights. But one night Denis Browne was lying\nin his bed, and the Lord put it in his mind that there might be false\ninformation given against some that were innocent. So he went out and he\nbrought out one of his horses into the lawn before the house, and he\nshot it dead and left it there. In the morning one of the butlers came\nup to him and said, 'Did you see that one of your horses was shot in the\nnight?' 'How would I see that?' says he, 'and I not rose up or dressed?'\nSo when he went out they showed him the horse, and he bade the men to\nbury it, and it wasn't two hours after before two of them came to him.\n'We can tell you who it was shot the horse,' they said. 'It was such a\none and such a one in the village, that were often heard to speak bad of\nyou. And besides that,' they said, 'we saw them shooting it ourselves.'\nSo the two that gave that false witness were the last two Denis Browne\never hung. He rose out of it after, and washed his hands of it all. And\nhis big house is turned into a convent, and the tree is growing there\nyet. It is in the time of '98 that happened, a hundred years ago.\"\n\n\nTHE UNION\n\n\"As to the Union, it was bought with titles. Look at the Binghams and\nthe rest, they went to bed nothing, and rose up lords in the morning.\nThe day it was passed Lady Castlereagh was in the House of Parliament,\nand she turned three colours, and she said to her husband, 'You have\npassed your treaty, but you have sold your country.' He went and cut his\nthroat after that. And it is what I heard from the old people, there was\nno priest in Ireland but voted for it, the way they would get better\nrights, for it was only among poor persons they were going at that time.\nAnd it was but at the time of the Parliament leaving College Green they\nbegan to wear the Soutane that they wear now. Up to that it was a\nbodycoat they wore and knee-breeches. It was their vote sent the\nParliament to England, and when there is a row between them or that the\npeople are vexed with the priest, you will hear them saying in the house\nin Irish 'Bad luck on them, it was they brought misfortune to Ireland.'\nThey wore the Soutane ever since that time.\"\n\n\nROBERT EMMET\n\n\"The Government had people bribed to swear against Robert Emmet, and the\nsame men said after, they never saw him till he was in the dock. He\nmight have got away but for his attention to that woman. She went away\nafter with a sea captain. There are some say she gave information.\nCurran's daughter she was. But I don't know. He made one request, his\nletters that she wrote to him in the gaol not to be meddled with, but\nthe Government opened them and took the presents she sent in them, and\nwhatever was best of them they kept for themselves. He made the greatest\nspeech from the dock ever was made, and Lord Norbury on the bench,\nchecking and clogging him all the time. Ten hours he was in the dock,\nand they gave him no more than one dish of water all that time; and they\nexecuted him in a hurry, saying it was an attack they feared on the\nprison. There is no one knows where is his grave.\"\n\n\nO'CONNELL'S BIRTH\n\n\"O'Connell was a grand man, and whatever cause he took in hand, it was\nas good as won. But what wonder? He was the gift of God. His father was\na rich man, and one day he was out walking he took notice of a house\nthat was being built. Well, a week later he passed by the same place,\nand he saw the walls of the house were no higher than before. So he\nasked the reason, and he was told it was a priest that was building it,\nand he hadn't the money to go on with. So a few days after he went to\nthe priest's house and he asked was that true, and the priest said it\nwas. 'Would you pay back the money to the man that would lend it to\nyou?' says O'Connell. 'I would,' says the priest. So with that O'Connell\ngave him the money that was wanting--\u00a350--for it was a very grand house.\nWell, after some time the priest came to O'Connell's house, and he found\nonly the wife at home, so says he, 'I have some money that himself lent\nme.' But he had never told the wife of what he had done, so she knew\nnothing about it, and says she, 'Don't be troubling yourself about it,\nhe'll bestow it on you.' 'Well,' says the priest, I'll go away now and\nI'll come back again.' So when O'Connell came, the wife told him all\nthat had happened, and how a priest had come saying he owed him money,\nand how she had said he would bestow it on him. 'Well,' says O'Connell,\n'if you said I would bestow it, I will bestow it.' And so he did. Then\nthe priest said, 'Have you any children?' 'Ne'er a child,' said\nO'Connell. 'Well you will have one,' said he. And that day nine months\ntheir young son was born. So what wonder if he was inspired, being, as\nhe was, the Gift of God.\"\n\n\n[Illustration: O'CONNELL]\n\nTHE TINKER\n\n\"O'Connell was a great man. I never saw him, but I heard of his name.\nOne time I saw his picture in a paper, where they were giving out meal,\nwhere Mrs. Gaynor's is and I kissed the picture of him. They were\nlaughing at me for doing that, but I had heard of his good name. There\nwas some poor man, a tinker, asked help of him one time in Dublin, and\nhe said, 'I will put you in a place where you will get some good thing.'\nSo he brought him to a lodging in a very grand house and put him in it.\nAnd in the morning he began to make saucepans, and he was making them\nthere, and the shopkeeper that owned the house was mad at him to be\ndoing that, and making saucepans in so grand a house, and he wanted to\nget him out of it, and he gave him a good sum of money to go out. He\nwent back and told that to O'Connell, and O'Connell said, 'Didn't I tell\nyou I would put you in the way to get some good thing?'\"\n\n\nA PRESENT\n\n\"There was a gentleman sent him a present one time, and he bade a little\nlad to bring it to him. Shut up in a box it was, and he bade the boy to\ngive it to himself, and not to open the box. So the little lad brought\nit to O'Connell to give it to him. 'Let you open it yourself,' says\nO'Connell. So he opened it, and whatever was in it blew up and made an\nend of the boy, and it would have been the same with O'Connell if he had\nopened it.\"\n\n\nHIS STRATEGY\n\n\"O'Connell was a grand man; the best within the walls of the world. He\nnever led anyone astray. Did you hear that one time he turned the shoes\non his horses? There were bad members following him. I cannot say who\nthey were, for I will not tell what I don't know. He got a smith to turn\nthe shoes, and when they came upon his track, he went east and they went\nwest. Parnell was no bad man, but Dan O'Connell's name went up higher in\npraises.\"\n\n\nTHE MAN WAS GOING TO BE HANGED\n\n\"I saw O'Connell in Galway one time, and I couldn't get anear him. All\nthe nations of the world were gathered there to see him. There were a\ngreat many he hung and a great many he got off from death, the dear man.\nHe went into a town one time, and into a hotel, and he asked for his\ndinner. And he had a frieze dress, for he was very simple, and always a\nclerk along with him. And when the dinner was served to him, 'Is there\nno one here,' says he, 'to sit along with me; for it is seldom I ever\ndined without company.' 'If you think myself good enough to sit with\nyou,' says the man of the hotel, 'I will do it.' So the two of them sat\nto the dinner together, and O'Connell asked was there any news in the\ntown. 'There is,' says the hotel man, 'there is a man to be hung\nto-morrow.' 'Oh, my!' says O'Connell, 'what was it he did to deserve\nthat?' 'Himself and another that had been out fowling,' says he, 'and\nthey came in here and they began to dispute, and the one of them killed\nthe other, and he will be hung to-morrow.' 'He will not,' says\nO'Connell. 'I tell you he will,' says the other, 'for the Judge is come\nto give the sentence.' Well, O'Connell kept to it that he would not, and\nthey made a bet, and the hotel man bet all he had on the man being hung.\nIn the morning O'Connell was in no hurry out of bed, and when the two of\nthem walked into the Court, the Judge was after giving the sentence, and\nthe man was to be hung. '_Maisead_,' says the judge when he saw\nO'Connell, 'I wish you had been here a half an hour ago, where there is\na man going to be hung.' 'He is not,' says O'Connell. 'He is,' says the\njudge. 'If he is,' says O'Connell, 'that one will never let anyone go\nliving out of his hotel, and he making money out of the hanging.' 'What\ndo you mean saying that?' says the judge. Then O'Connell took the\ninstrument out of his pocket where it was written down all the\nhotel-keeper had put on the hanging. And when the judge saw that, he set\nthe man free, and he was not hanged.\"\n\n\nTHE CUP OF THE SASSANACH\n\n\"He was over in England one time, and he was brought to a party, and tea\nwas made ready and cups. And as they were sitting at the table, a\nservant girl that was in it, and that was Irish, came to O'Connell and\nshe said, 'Do you understand Irish?' [IRISH: 'An tuigeann tu Gaedilge,\nO'Connell?' 'Tuigim,'] says he, 'I understand it.' 'Have a care,' says\nshe, 'for there is in your cup what would poison the whole nation!' 'If\nthat is true, girl, you will get a good fortune,' said he. It was in\nIrish they said all that, and the people that were in it had no ears.\nThen O'Connell quenched the candle, and he changed his cup for the cup\nof the man that was next him. And it was not long till the man fell\ndead. They were always trying to kill O'Connell, because he was a good\nman. The Sassanach it was were against him. Terrible wicked they were,\nand God save us, I believe they are every bit as wicked yet!\"\n\n\nTHE THOUSAND FISHERS\n\n\"O'Connell came to Galway one time, and he sent for all the trades to\ncome out with the sign of their trade in their hand, and he would see\nwhich was the best. And there came ten hundred fishers, having all white\nflannel clothes and black hats and white scarves about them, and he gave\nthe sway to them. It wasn't a year after that, the half of them were\nlost, going through the fogs at Newfoundland, where they went for a\nbetter way of living.\"\n\n\nWHAT THE OLD WOMEN SAW\n\n\"The greatest thing I ever saw was O'Connell driving through Gort, very\nplain, and an oiled cap on him, and having only one horse; and there was\nno house in Gort without his picture in it.\" \"O'Connell rode up Crow\nLane and to Church Street on a single horse, and he stopped there and\ntook a view of Gort.\" \"I saw O'Connell after he left Gort going on the\nroad to Kinvara, and seven horses in the coach--they could not get in\nthe eighth. He stopped, and he was talking to Hickman that was with me.\nShiel was in the coach along with him.\"\n\n\nO'CONNELL'S HAT\n\n\"O'Connell wore his hat in the English House of Commons, what no man but\nthe King can do. He wore it for three days because he had a sore head,\nand at the end of that they bade him put it off, and he said he would\nnot, where he had worn it three days.\"\n\n\nTHE CHANGE HE MADE\n\n\"O'Connell was a great councillor. At that time if there was a Catholic,\nno matter how high or great or learned he was, he could not get a place.\nBut if a Protestant came that was a blockhead and ignorant, the place\nwould be open to him. There was a revolution rising because of that, and\nO'Connell brought it into the House of Commons and got it changed. He\nwas the greatest man ever was in Ireland. He was a very clever lawyer;\nhe would win every case, he would put it so strong and clear and clever.\nIf there were fifteen lawyers against him--five and ten--he would win it\nagainst them all, whether the case was bad or good.\"\n\n\nTHE MAN HE BROUGHT TO JUSTICE\n\n\"Corly, that burned his house in Burren, was very bad, and it was\nO'Connell brought him to the gallows. The only case O'Connell lost was\nagainst the Macnamaras, and he told them he would be even with them, and\nso when Corly, that was a friend of theirs, was brought up he kept his\nword. There was no doubt about him burning the house, it was to\nimplicate the Hynes he did it, to lay it on them. There was a girl used\nto go out milking at daybreak, and she awoke, and the moon was shining,\nand she thought it was day, and got up and looked out, and she saw him\ndoing it.\"\n\n\nTHE BINDING\n\n\"O'Connell was a great man, wide big arms he had. It was he left us the\ncheap tea; to cheapen it he did, that was at that time a shilling for\none bare ounce. His heart is in Rome and his body in Glasnevin. A lovely\nman, he would put you on your guard; he was for the country, he was all\nfor Ireland.\"\n\n\nHIS MONUMENT\n\n\"There is a nice monument put up to O'Connell in Ennis, in a corner it\nis of the middle of a street, and himself high up on it, holding a book.\nIt was a poor shoe-maker set that going. I saw him in Gort one time, a\ncoat of O'Connell's he had that he chanced in some place. Only for him\nthere would be no monument; it was he gathered money for it, and there\nwas none would refuse him.\"\n\n\nA PRAISE MADE FOR DANIEL O'CONNELL BY OLD WOMEN AND THEY BEGGING AT THE\nDOOR\n\n\"Dan O'Connell was the best man in the world, and a great man surely;\nand there could not be better than what O'Connell was.\n\n\"It was from him I took the pledge and I a child, and kept it ever\nafter. He would give it to little lads and children, but not to any aged\nperson. Pilot trousers he had and a pilot coat, and a grey and white\nwaistcoat.\n\n\"O'Connell was all for the poor. See what he did at Saint Patrick's\nIsland--he cast out every bad thing and every whole thing, to England\nand to America and to every part. He fought it well for every whole\nbody.\n\n\"A splendid monument there is to him in Ennis, and his fine top coat\nupon him. A lovely man; you'd think he was alive and all, and he having\nhis hat in his hand. Everyone kneels down on the steps of it and says a\nfew prayers and walks away. It is as high as that tree below. If he was\nin Ireland now the pension would go someway right.\n\n\"He was the best and the best to everyone; he got great sway in the town\nof Gort, and in every other place.\n\n\"I suppose he has the same talk always; he is able to do for us now as\nwell as ever he was; surely his mercy and goodness are in the town of\nGort.\n\n\"He did good in the world while he was alive; he was a great man surely;\nthere couldn't be better in this world I believe, or in the next world;\nthere couldn't be better all over the world.\n\n\"He used to go through all nations and to make a fight for the poor; he\ngave them room to live, and used to fight for them too. There is no\ndoubt at all he did help them, he was well able to do it.\"\n\n\nRICHARD SHIEL\n\n\"As to Shiel, he was small, dressed very neat, with knee-breeches and a\nfull vest and a long-skirted coat. He had a long nose, and was not much\nto look at till he began to speak, and then you'd see genius coming out\nfrom him. His voice was shrill, and that spoiled his speech sometimes,\nwhen he would get excited, and would raise it at the end. But\nO'Connell's voice you would hear a mile off, and it sounded as if it was\ncoming through honey,\"\n\n\nTHE TITHE WAR\n\n\"And the Tithes, the tenth of the land that St. Patrick and his Bishops\nhad settled for their own use, it was to Protestants it was given. And\nthere would have been a revolution out of that, but it was done away\nwith, and it is the landlord has to pay it now. The Pope has a great\npower that is beyond all. There is one day and one minute in the year\nhe has that power if it pleases him to use it. At that minute it runs\nthrough all the world, and every priest goes on his knees and the Pope\nhimself is on his knees, and that request cannot be refused, because\nthey are the grand jury of the world before God. A man was talking to me\nabout the burying of the Tithes; up on the top of the Devil's Bit it\nwas, and if you looked around you could see nothing but the police. Then\nthe boys came riding up, and white rods in their hands, and they dug a\ngrave, and the Tithes, some image of them, was buried. It was a wrong\nthing for one religion to be paying for the board of the clergy of\nanother religion.\"\n\n\nTHE FIGHT AT CARRICKSHOCK\n\n\"The Tithe War, that was the time of the fight at Carrickshock. A narrow\npassage that was in it, and the people were holding it against the\npolice that came with the Proctor. There was a Captain defending the\nProctor that had been through the Battle of Waterloo, and it was the\nProctor they fired at, but the Captain fell dead, and fourteen police\nwere killed with him. But the people were beat after, and were brought\ninto court for the trial, and the counsel for the Crown was against\nthem, Dougherty. They were tried in batches, and every batch was\ncondemned, Dougherty speaking out the case against them. But O'Connell,\nthat was at that time at Cork Assizes, heard of it, and he came, and\nwhen he got to the door the pony that brought him dropped dead. He came\nin and he took refreshment--bread and milk--the same as I am after\ntaking now, and he looked up and he said 'That is no law.' Then the\njudge agreed with him, and he got every one of them off after that; but\nonly for him they would swing. The Tithes were bad, a farmer to have\nthree stacks they's take the one of them. And that was the first time of\nthe hurling matches, to gather the people against the Tithes. But there\nwas hurling in the ancient times in Ireland, and out in Greece, and\nplaying at the ball, and that is what is called the Olympian Games.\"\n\n\nTHE BIG WIND\n\n\"As to the Big Wind, I was on my elder sister's back going to a friend\nbeyond, and when I was coming back it was slacked away, and I was\nwondering at the holes in the houses.\" \"I was up to twelve year at the\ntime of the Big Wind that was in '39, and I was over at Roxborough with\nmy father that was clearing timber from the road, and your father came\nout along the road, and he was wild seeing the trees and rocks whipped\nup into the sky the way they were with the wind. But what was that to\nthe bitter time of the Famine that came after?\"\n\n\nTHE FAMINE\n\n\"The Famine; there's a long telling in that, it is a thing will be\nremembered always. That little graveyard above, at that time it was\nfilled full up of bodies; the Union had no way to buy coffins for them.\nThere would be a bag made, and the body put into it, that was all; and\nthe people dying without priest, or bishop, or anything at all. But over\nin Connemara it was the dogs brought the bodies out of the houses, and\nasked no leave.\"\n\n\nTHE CHOLERA\n\n\"The cholera was worse again. It came from foreign, and it lasted a\ncouple of years, till God drove it out of the country. It is often I saw\na man ploughing the garden in the morning till dinner time, and before\nevening he would be dead. It was as if on the wind it came, there was no\nescape from it; on the wind, the same as it would come now and would\ncatch on to pigs. Sheds that would be made out in the haggards to put\nthe sick in, they would turn as black as your coat. There was no one\ncould go near them without he would have a glass of whiskey taken, and\nhe wouldn't like it then.\"\n\n\nA LONG REMEMBERING\n\n\"The longest thing I remember is the time of the sickness, and my father\nthat was making four straw mats for four brothers that died, and that\ncouldn't afford coffins. The bodies were put in the mats and were tied\nup in them. And the second thing I remember is the people digging in the\nstubble after the oats and the wheat; to see would they meet a potato,\nand sometimes they did, for God sent them there.\"\n\n\nTHE TERRY ALTS\n\n\"The Terry Alts were a bad class; everything you had they'd take from\nyou. It was against herding they began to get the land, the same as at\nthe present time. And women they would take; a man maybe that hadn't a\nperch of land would go to a rich farmer's house and bring away his\ndaughter. And I, supposing, to have some spite against you, I'd gather a\nmob and do every bad thing to destroy you. That is the way they were, a\nbad class and doing bad deeds.\"\n\n\nTHE '48 TIME\n\n\"Thomas Davis was a great man where poetry is concerned, and a better\nthan Thomas Moore. All over Ireland his poetry is, and he would have\ndone other things but that he died young. That was the '48 time. The '48\nmen were foolish men; they thought to cope with the English Government.\nThey went to O'Connell to get from him all the money he had gathered,\nfor they had it in their head to use that to make a rise against\nEngland. But when they asked O'Connell for it he told them there was\nnone of it left, not one penny. Buying estates for his children he used\nit, and he said he spent it on a monastery. I don't know was he speaking\ntruth. Mahon made a great speech against him, and it preyed on\nO'Connell, and he left the country and went away and died in some place\ncalled Genoa. He was a very ambitious man, like Napoleon. He got\nEmancipation; but where is the use of that? There's Judge O'Brien, Peter\nthe Packer, was calling out and trying to do away with trial by jury.\nAnd he would not be in his office or in his billet if it wasn't for\nO'Connell. They didn't do much after, where they didn't get the money\nfrom O'Connell. And the night they joined under Smith O'Brien they\nhadn't got their supper. A terrible cold night it was, no one could\nstand against it. Some bishop came from Dublin, and he told them to go\nhome, for how could they reach with their pikes to the English soldiers\nthat had got muskets. The soldiers came, and there was some firing, and\nthey were all scattered. As to Smith O'Brien, there was ten thousand\npounds on his head, and he hid for a while. Then at the last he went\ninto the town of Clonmel, and there was a woman there in the street was\na huckster, and he bade her give him up to the Government, for she would\nnever earn money so easy. But for all she was worth she wouldn't do\nthat. So then he went and gave himself up, and he was sent to Australia,\nand the property was given to his brother.\"\n\n\nA THING MITCHELL SAID\n\n\"Mitchell was kept in Clonmel gaol two years before he was sent to\nAustralia. He was a Protestant, and a very good man. He said in a\nspeech, where was the use of meetings and of talking? It was with the\npoint of their bayonet the English would have to be driven out of\nIreland. It was Mitchell said that.\"\n\n\nTHE FENIAN RISING\n\n\"It was a man from America it came with. There was one Mackie was taken\nin a publichouse in Cork, and there was a policeman killed in the\nstruggle. Judge O'Hagan was the judge when he was in the dock, and he\nsaid, 'Mr. Mackie, I see you are a gentleman and an educated man; and\nI'm sorry,' he said, 'that you did not read Irish history.' Mackie cried\nwhen he heard that, for indeed it was all spies about him, and it was\nthey gave him up.\"\n\n\nA GREAT WONDER\n\n\"The greatest wonder I ever saw was one time near Kinvara at a funeral,\nthere came a car along the road and a lady on it having a plaid cloak,\nas was the fashion then, and a big hat, and she kept her head down and\nnever looked at the funeral at all. I wondered at her when I saw that,\nand I said to my brother it was a strange thing a lady to be coming past\na funeral and not to look on at it at all. And who was on the car but\nO'Gorman Mahon, escaping from the Government, and dressed up as a lady!\nHe drove to Father Arthur's house at Kinvara, and there was a boat\nwaiting, and a cousin of my own in it, to bring him out to a ship, and\nso he made his escape.\"\n\n\nANOTHER WONDER\n\n\"I saw Clerkenwell prison in London broken up in the time of the\nFenians, and every ship and steamer in the whole of the ocean stopped.\nThe prison was burned down, and all the prisoners consumed, and seven\ndoctors' shops along with it.\"\n\n\nFATHER MATHEW\n\n\"Father Mathew was a great man, plump and red in the face. There\ncouldn't be better than what he was. I knew one Kane in Gort he gave a\nmedal to, and he kept it seventy years. Kane was a great totaller, and\nhe wouldn't drink so much as water out of a glass, but out of a cup; the\nglass might have been used for porter at some time. He lost the medal,\nand was in a great way about it, but he found it five years after in a\ndung-heap. A great totaller he was. Them that took the medal from Father\nMathew and that kept it, at their death they would be buried by men\ndressed in white clothes.\"\n\n\nTHE WAR OF THE CRIMEA\n\n\"My husband was in the war of the Crimea. It is terrible the hardships\nhe went through, to be two months without going into a house, under the\nsnow in trenches. And no food to get, maybe a biscuit in the day. And\nthere was enough food there, he said, to feed all Ireland; but bad\nmanagement, they could not get it. Coffee they would be given, and they\nwould be cutting a green bramble to strive to make a fire to boil it.\nThe dead would be buried every morning; a big hole would be dug, and the\nbodies thrown in, and lime upon them; and some of the bodies would be\nliving when they were buried. My husband used to try to revive them if\nhe saw there was life in them, but other lads wouldn't care--just to put\nthem down and have done. And they were allowed to take nothing--money,\ngold watches, and the like, all thrown in the ground. Sure they did not\ncare much about such things, they might be lying in the same place\nthemselves to-morrow. But the soldiers would take the money sometimes\nand put it in their stocking and tie the stocking below the ankle and\nbelow the knee. But if the officer knew that, they would be\ncourtmartialed and punished. He got two medals--one from the English and\none from the Emperor of Turkey. Fighting for the Queen, and bad pay she\ngave him. He never knew what was the war for, unless it might be for\ndiminishing the population. We saw in the paper a few years ago there\nwas a great deal of money collected for soldiers that had gone through\nhardship in the war, and we wrote to the War Office asking some of it\nfor him. But they wrote back that there were so many young men crippled\nin the Boer war there was nothing to be spared for the old. My husband\nused to be saying the Queen cared nothing for the army, but that the\nKing, even before he was King, was better to it. But I'm thinking from\nthis out the King will get very few from Ireland for his army.\"\n\n[Illustration: W.E. GLADSTONE]\n\n\nGARIBALDI\n\n\"There was one of my brothers died at Lyons in France. He had a place in\nGuinness's brewery, and earning \u00a33 10s. a week, and it was the time\nGaribaldi, you might have heard of, was out fighting. There came a ship\nto Dublin from France, calling for soldiers, and he threw up his place,\nand there were many others threw up their place, and they went off,\neleven hundred of them, in the French ship, to go fighting for their\nreligion, and a hundred of them never came back. When they landed in\nFrance they were made much of and velvet carpets spread before them. But\nthe war was near over then, and when it had ended they were forgotten,\nand nothing done for them, and he was in poverty at Lyons and died. It\nwas the nuns there wrote a letter in French telling that to my mother.\"\n\"And Napoleon the Third fought for the Pope in the time of Garibaldi. A\ngreat many Irishmen went out at that time, and the half of them never\ncame back. I met with one of them that was in Russell's flour stores,\nand he said he would never go out again if there were two hundred Popes.\nBad treatment they got--black bread, and the troops in the Vatican well\nfed; and it wasn't long till Victor Emanuel's troops made a breach in\nthe wall.\"\n\n\nTHE BUONAPARTES\n\n\"Napoleon the Third was not much. He died in England, and was buried in\na country church-yard much the same as Kiltartan. But Napoleon the First\nwas a great man; it was given out of him there never would be so great a\nman again. But he hadn't much education, and his penmanship was bad.\nEvery great man gave in to superstition. He gave into it when he went to\nask the gipsy woman to divine, and she told him his fate. Through fire\nand a rock she said that he would fall. I suppose the rock was St.\nHelena, and the fire was the fire of Waterloo. Napoleon was the terror\nof England, and he would have beat the English at Waterloo but for\ntreachery, the treachery of Grouchy. It was, maybe, not his fault he was\ntreacherous, he might be the same as Judas, that had his treachery\nsettled for him four thousand years before his birth. There was a curse\non Napoleon the Third because of what Napoleon the First had done\nagainst the Church. He took Malta one time and landed there, and by\ntreachery with the knights he robbed a church that was on the shore, and\ncarried away the golden gates. In an ironclad he put them that was\nbelonging to the English, and they sank that very day, and were never\ngot up after, unless it might be by divers. And two Popes he brought\ninto exile. But he was the friend of Ireland, and when he was dying he\nsaid that. His heart was smashed, he said, with all the ruling Princes\nthat went against him; and if he had made an attack on Ireland, he said,\ninstead of going to Moscow the time he did, he would have brought\nEngland low. And the Prince Imperial was trapped. It was the English\nbrought him out to the war, and that made the nations go against him,\nand it was an English officer led him into the trap the way he never\nwould come to the Throne.\"\n\n[Illustration: LOUIS NAPOLEON]\n\n\nTHE ZULU WAR\n\n\"I was in the army the time of the Zulu war. Great hardship we got in it\nand plenty of starvation. It was the Dutch called in the English to help\nthem against the Zulus, that were tricky rogues, and would do no work\nbut to be driving the cattle off the fields. A pound of raw flour we\nwould be given out at seven o'clock in the morning, and some would try\nto make a cake, and some would put it in a pot with water and be\nstirring it, and it might be eleven o'clock before you would get what\nyou could eat, and not a bit of meat maybe for two days.\"\n\n\nTHE YOUNG NAPOLEON\n\n\"There was a young Napoleon there, the grandson of Napoleon the First,\nthat was a great man indeed. I was in the island where he was interred;\nit is a grand place, and what is not natural in those parts, there are\ntwo blackthorn bushes growing in it where you go into the place he was\nburied. And as to that great Napoleon, the fear of him itself was enough\nto kill people. If he was living till now it is hard to say what way\nwould the world be. It is likely there'd be no English left in it, and\nit would be all France. The young Napoleon was at the Zulu war was as\nfine a young man as you'd wish to lay an eye on; six feet four, and\nshaped to match. As to his death, there was things might have been\nbrought to light, but the enquiry was stopped. There was seven of them\nwent out together, and he was found after, lying dead in the ground, and\nhis top coat spread over him. There came a shower of hailstones that\nwere as large as the top of your finger, and as square as diamonds, and\nthat would enter into your skull. They made out it was to save himself\nfrom them that he lay down. But why didn't they lift him in the saddle\nand bring him along with them? And the bullet was taken out of his head\nwas the same every bit as our bullets; and where would a Zulu get a\nbullet like that? Very queer it was, and a great deal of talk about it,\nand in my opinion he was done away with because the English saw the\ngrandfather in him, and thought he would do away with themselves in the\ntime to come. Sure if he spoke to one of them, he would begin to shake\nbefore him, officers the same as men. We had often to be laughing seeing\nthat.\"\n\n\nPARNELL\n\n\"Parnell was a very good man, and a just man, and if he had lived to\nnow, Ireland would be different to what it is. The only thing ever could\nbe said against him was the influence he had with that woman. And how do\nwe know but that was a thing appointed for him by God? Parnell had a\nback to him, but O'Connell stood alone. He fought a good war in the\nHouse of Commons. Parnell did a great deal, getting the land. I often\nheard he didn't die at all--it was very quick for him to go. I often\nwondered there were no people smart enough to dig up the coffin and to\nsee what is in it, at night they could do that. No one knows in what\nsoil Robert Emmet was buried, but he was made an end of sure enough.\nParnell went through Gort one day, and he called it the fag-end of\nIreland, just as Lady Morgan called the North the Athens of Ireland.\"\n\n\nMR. GLADSTONE\n\n\"Gladstone had the name of being the greatest statesman of England, and\nhe wasn't much after all. At the time of his death he had it on his mind\nthat it was he threw the first stone at Parnell, and he confessed that,\nand was very sorry for it. But sure there is no one can stand all\nthrough. Look at Solomon that had ten hundred wives, and some of them\nthe finest of women, and that spent all the money laid up by Father\nDavid. And Gladstone encouraged Garibaldi the time he attacked the\nVatican, and gave him arms, Parnell charged him with that one time in\nthe House of Commons, and said he had the documents, and he hadn't a\nword to say. But he was sorry at Parnell's death, and what was the use\nof that when they had his heart broke? Parnell did a great deal for the\nIrish, and they didn't care after; they are the most displeasing people\nGod ever made, unless it might be the ancient Jews.\"\n\n\nQUEEN VICTORIA'S RELIGION\n\n\"Queen Victoria was loyal and true to the Pope; that is what I was told,\nand so is Edward the Seventh loyal and true, but he has got something\ncontrary in his body. It is when she was a girl she put on clothes like\nyour own--lady's clothes--and she went to the Pope. Did she turn\nCatholic? She'd be beheaded if she did; the Government would behead her;\nit is the Government has power in England.\"\n\n\nHER WISDOM\n\n\"As to the last Queen, we thought her bad when we had her, but now we\nthink her good. She was a hard woman, and she did nothing for Ireland in\nthe bad years; but I'll give you the reason she had for that. She had it\nin her mind always to keep Ireland low, it being the place she mostly\ngot her soldiers. That might not be good for Ireland, but it was good\nfor her own benefit. The time the lads have not a bit to eat, that is\nthe time they will go soldiering.\"\n\n\nWAR AND MISERY\n\n\"There was war and misery going on all through Victoria's reign. It was\nthe Boer war killed her, she being aged, and seeing all her men going\nout, and able to do nothing. Ten to one they were against the Boers.\nThat is what killed her. It is a great tribute to the war it did that.\"\n\n\nTHE PRESENT KING\n\n\"The present King is very good. He is a gentleman very fond of visiting,\nand well pleased with every class of people he will meet.\"\n\n\nTHE OLD AGE PENSIONS\n\n\"The old age pension is very good, and as to taxes, them can't pay it\nthat hasn't it. It is since the Boer War there is coin sent back from\nAfrica every week that is dug from the goldpits out there. That is what\nthe English wanted the time they went to war; they want to close up the\nminerals for themselves. If it wasn't for the war, that pension would\nnever be given to Ireland. They'd have been driven home by the Boers if\nit wasn't for the Irish that were in the front of every battle. And the\nIrish held out better too, they can starve better than the rest, there\nis more bearing in them. It wasn't till all the Irish were killed that\nthe English took to bribing. Bribed Botha they did with a bag of gold.\nFor all the generals in England that are any good are Irish. Buller was\nthe last they had, and he died. They can find no good generals at all in\nEngland, unless they might get them very young.\"\n\n\nANOTHER THOUGHT\n\n\"It was old money was in the Treasury idle, and the King and Queen\ngetting old wanted to distribute it in the country it was taken from.\nBut some say it was money belonging to captains and big men that died in\nthe war and left no will after them. Anyway it is likely it will not\nhold; and it is known that a great many of those that get it die very\nsoon.\"\n\n\nA PROPHECY\n\n\"It is likely there will be a war at the end of the two thousand, that\nwas always foretold. And I hear the English are making ships that will\ndive the same as diving ducks under the water. But as to the Irish\nAmericans, they would sweep the entire world; and England is afraid of\nAmerica, it being a neighbour.\"\n\n\nNOTES\n\nI have given this book its name because it is at my own door, in the\nBarony of Kiltartan, I have heard a great number of the stories from\nbeggars, pipers, travelling men, and such pleasant company. But others I\nhave heard in the Workhouse, or to the north of Galway Bay, in\nConnemara, or on its southern coast, in Burren. I might, perhaps, better\nhave called the little book Myths in the Making.\n\nA sociable people given to conversation and belief; no books in the\nhouse, no history taught in the schools; it is likely that must have\nbeen the way of it in old Greece, when the king of highly civilised\nCrete was turned by tradition into a murderous tyrant owning a monster\nand a labyrinth. It was the way of it in old France too, one thinks,\nwhen Charlemagne's height grew to eight feet, and his years were counted\nby centuries: \"He is three hundred years old, and when will he weary of\nwar?\" Anyhow, it has been the way of modern Ireland--the Ireland I\nknow--and when I hear myth turned into history, or history into myth, I\nsee in our stonebreakers and cattle drivers Greek husbandmen or ancient\nvinedressers of the Loire.\n\nI noticed some time ago, when listening to many legends of the Fianna,\nthat is about Finn, their leader, the most exaggerated of the tales have\ngathered; and I believe the reason is that he, being the greatest of the\n\"Big Men,\" the heroic race, has been most often in the mouths of the\npeople. They have talked of him by their fire-sides for two thousand\nyears or so; at first earlier myths gathered around him, and then from\ntime to time any unusual feats of skill or cunning shown off on one or\nanother countryside, till many of the stories make him at the last\ngrotesque, little more than a clown. So in Bible History, while lesser\nkings keep their dignity, great Solomon's wit is outwitted by the\nriddles of some countryman; and Lucifer himself, known in Kiltartan as\n\"the proudest of the angels, thinking himself equal with God,\" has been\nseen in Sligo rolling down a road in the form of the _Irish Times_. The\ngods of ancient Ireland have not escaped. Mananaan, Son of the Sea,\nRider of the Horses of the Sea, was turned long ago into a juggler doing\ntricks, and was hunted in the shape of a hare. Brigit, the \"Fiery\nArrow,\" the nurse of poets, later a saint and the Foster-mother of\nChrist, does her healing of the poor in the blessed wells of to-day as\n\"a very civil little fish, very pleasant, wagging its tail.\"\n\nGiobniu, the divine smith of the old times, made a new sword and a new\nspear for every one that was broken in the great battle between the gods\nand the mis-shapen Fomor. \"No spearpoint that is made by my hand,\" he\nsaid, \"will ever miss its mark; no man it touches will ever taste life\nagain.\" It was his father who, with a cast of a hatchet, could stop the\ninflowing of the tide; and it was he himself whose ale gave lasting\nyouth: \"No sickness or wasting ever comes on those who drink at\nGiobniu's Feast.\" Later he became a saint, a master builder, builder of\na house \"more shining than a garden; with its stars, with its sun, with\nits moon.\" To-day he is known as the builder of the round towers of the\nearly Christian centuries, and of the square castles of the\nAnglo-Normans. And the stories I have given of him, called as he now is,\n\"the Goban Saor,\" show that he has fallen still farther in legend from\nhis high origin.\n\nAs to O'Connell, perhaps because his name, like that of Finn and the\nGoban, is much in the mouths of the people, there is something of the\nabsurd already coming into his legend. The stories of him show more than\nany others how swiftly myths and traditions already in the air may\ngather around a memory much loved and much spoken of. He died only sixty\nyears ago, and many who have seen and heard him are still living; and\nyet he has already been given a miraculous birth, and the power of a\nsaint is on its way to him. I have charged my son, and should I live\ntill he comes to sensible years, I will charge my grandson, to keep\ntheir ears open to the growth of legend about him who was once my\nhusband's friendly enemy, and afterwards his honoured friend.\n\nI do not take the credit or the discredit of the opinions given by the\nvarious speakers, nor do I go bail for the facts; I do but record what\nis already in \"the Book of the People.\" The history of England and\nIreland was shut out of the schools and it became a passion. As to why\nit was shut out, well, I heard someone whisper \"Eugene Aram hid the body\naway, being no way anxious his scholars should get a sight of it.\" But\nthis also was said in the barony of Kiltartan.\n\nThe illustrations are drawn from some delft figures, ornaments in a\nKiltartan house.\n\n\nA. GREGORY.\n\nCOOLE PARK, _November_, 1909.","title":"The Kiltartan History Book","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":13641}