{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_55451/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_55451","id":"gutenberg_55451","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55451","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - British","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ireland -- Periodicals"],"text":"THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.\n\n         NUMBER 48.      SATURDAY, MAY 29, 1841.       VOLUME I.\n\n[Illustration: ORMEAU, COUNTY OF DOWN, THE SEAT OF THE MARQUESS OF\nDONEGAL.]\n\nIn the selection of subjects for illustration in our Journal, there are\nnone which we deem more worthy of attention, or which give us greater\npleasure to notice, than the mansions of our resident nobility and\ngentry; and it is from this feeling chiefly that we have made choice\nof Ormeau, the fine seat of the Marquess of Donegal, as eminently\ndeserving an early place among our topographical notices. Many finer\nplaces may indeed be seen in Ireland, belonging to noblemen, of equal\nor even inferior rank; but there are, unfortunately, few of these in\nwhich the presence of their lordly owners is so permanently to be found\ncementing the various classes of society together by the legitimate bond\nof a common interest, and attracting the respectful attachment of the\noccupiers and workers of the soil by the cheering parental encouragement\nwhich it is the duty of a proprietor to bestow.\n\nOrmeau is situated on the east side of the river Lagan, above a mile\nsouth of Belfast.\n\nThe mansion, which, as our view of it will show, is an extensive pile\nof buildings in the Tudor style of architecture, was originally built\nas a cottage residence in the last century, and has since gradually\napproximated to its present extent and importance, befitting the rank\nof its noble proprietor, by subsequent additions and improvements. It\nhas now several very noble apartments, and an extensive suite of offices\nand bed-rooms; but as an architectural composition, it is defective as a\nwhole, from the want of some grand and elevated feature to give variety\nof form to its general outline, and relieve the monotonous effect of so\nextensive a line of buildings of equal or nearly equal height.\n\nThe original residence of the family was situated in the town of Belfast,\nwhich may be said to have grown around it, and was a very magnificent\ncastellated house, erected in the reign of James I. Its site was that\nnow occupied by the fruit and vegetable markets, and it was surrounded\nby extensive gardens which covered the whole of the ground on which\nDonegal-place and the Linen Hall now stand. Of this noble mansion,\nhowever, there are no vestiges now remaining. It was burnt in the year\n1708, by an accidental fire, caused by the carelessness of a female\nservant, on which occasion three daughters of Arthur, the third Earl of\nDonegal, perished in the flames; and though a portion of the building\nwhich escaped destruction was afterwards occupied for some years, the\nfamily finally removing to their present residence, its preservation was\nno longer necessary.\n\nThe demesne surrounding Ormeau is not of great extent, but the grounds\nare naturally of great pastoral beauty, commanding the most charming\nviews of Belfast Lough and adjacent mountains, and have received all the\nimprovements that could be effected by art, guided by the refined taste\nof its accomplished proprietress.\n\nWe have only to add, that ready access to this beautiful demesne is\nfreely given to all respectable strangers--a privilege of which visitors\nto the Athens of the North should not fail to avail themselves.\n\n                                                                       P.\n\n\n\n\nTHE IRISH SHANAHUS,\n\nBY WILLIAM CARLETON.\n\n\nThe state of Irish society has changed so rapidly within the last\nthirty or forty years, that scarcely any one could believe it possible\nfor the present generation to be looked upon in many things as the\ndescendants of that which has immediately gone before them. The old\narmorial bearings of society which were empanelled upon the ancient\nmanners of our country, now hang like tattered scutcheons over the tombs\nof customs and usages which sleep beneath them; and unless rescued\nfrom the obliterating hand of time, scarcely a vestige of them will be\nleft even to tradition itself. That many gross absurdities have been\nsuperseded by a social condition more enlightened and healthy, is a\nfact which must gratify every one who wishes to see the general masses\nactuated by those principles which follow in the train of knowledge and\ncivilisation. But at the same time it is undeniable that the simplicity\nwhich accompanied those old vestiges of harmless ignorance has departed\nalong with them; and in spite of education and science, we miss the old\nfamiliar individuals who stood forth as the representatives of manners,\nwhose very memory touches the heart and affections more strongly than the\nhard creations of sterner but more salutary truths. For our own part,\nwe have always loved the rich and ruddy twilight of the rustic hearth,\nwhere the capricious tongues of blazing light shoot out from between the\nkindling turf, and dance in vivid reflection in the well-scoured pewter\nand delft as they stand neatly arranged on the kitchen-dresser--loved,\ndid we say? ay, and ever preferred it to philosophy, with all her lights\nand fashion, with all her heartlessness and hypocrisy. For this reason\nit is, that whilst retracing as it were the steps of our early life, and\nbringing back to our memory the acquaintances of our youthful days, we\nfeel our hearts touched with melancholy and sorrow, because we know that\nit is like taking our last farewell of old friends whom we shall never\nsee again, from whom we never experienced any thing but kindness, and\nwhose time-touched faces were never turned upon us but with pleasure, and\namusement, and affection.\n\nIn this paper it is not with the Shanahus whose name and avocations are\nassociated with high and historical dignity, that we have any thing to\ndo. Our sketches do not go very far beyond the manners of our own times;\nby which we mean that we paint or record nothing that is not remembered\nand known by those who are now living. The Shanahus we speak of is the\ndim and diminished reflection of him who filled a distinct calling\nin a period that has long gone by. The regular Shanahus--the herald\nand historian of individual families, the faithful genealogist of his\nlong-descended patron--has not been in existence for at least a century\nand a half, perhaps two. He with whom we have to do is the humble old\nman who, feeling himself gifted with a strong memory for genealogical\nhistory, old family anecdotes, and legendary lore in general, passes a\nhappy life in going from family to family, comfortably dressed and much\nrespected--dropping in of a Saturday night without any previous notice,\nbringing eager curiosity and delight to the youngsters of the house he\nvisits, and filling the sedate ears of the old with tales and legends, in\nwhich, perhaps, individuals of their own name and blood have in former\nages been known to take a remarkable and conspicuous part.\n\nIndeed, there is no country in the world where, from the peculiar\nfeatures of its social and political changes, the chronicles of the\nShanahus would be more likely to produce such a powerful effect as in\nIreland. When we consider that it was once a country of princes and\nchiefs, each of whom was followed and looked up to with such a spirit of\nfeudal enthusiasm and devoted attachment as might naturally be expected\nfrom a people remarkable for the force of their affection and the power\nof imagination, it is not surprising that the man who, in a state of\nsociety which presented to the minds of so many nothing but the records\nof fallen greatness or the decay of powerful names, and the downfall\nof rude barbaric grandeur, together with the ruin of fanes and the\nprostration of religious institutions, each invested with some local or\nnational interest--it is not surprising, we say, that such a man should\nbe welcomed, and listened to, and honoured, with a feeling far surpassing\nthat which was awakened by the idle jingle of a Proven\u00e7al Troubadour, or\nthe gorgeous dreams begotten by Arabian fiction. Neither the transition\nstate of society, however, nor the scanty diffusion of knowledge among\nthe Irish, allowed the Shanahus to produce any permanent impression\nupon the people; and the consequence was, that as the changes of society\nhurried on, he and his audience were carried along with them; his\ntraditionary lore was lost in the ignorance which ever arises when a ban\nhas been placed upon education; and from the recital of the high deeds\nand heroic feats of by-gone days, he sank down into the humble chronicler\nof hoary legends and dim traditions, for such only has he been within the\nmemory of the oldest man living, and as such only do we intend to present\nhim to our readers.\n\nThe most accomplished Shanahus of this kind that ever came within our\nobservation, was a man called Tom Grassiey, or Tom the Shoemaker. He was\na very stout well-built man, about fifty years of age, with a round head\nsomewhat bald, and an expansive forehead that argued a considerable reach\nof natural intellect. His knowing organs were large, and projected over a\npair of deep-set lively eyes, that scintillated with strong twinklings of\nhumour. His voice was loud, his enunciation rapid, but distinct; and such\nwas the force and buoyancy of his spirits, added to the vehemence of his\nmanner, that altogether it was impossible to resist him. His laughter was\ninfectious, and so loud that it might be heard of a calm summer evening\nat an incredible distance. Indeed, Tom possessed many qualities that\nrendered him a most agreeable companion: he could sing a good song for\ninstance, dance a hornpipe as well as any dancing-master, and we need not\nsay that he could tell a good story. He could also imitate a Jew\u2019s harp\nor trump upon his lips with his mere fingers in such a manner that the\ndeception was complete; and it was well known that flocks of the country\npeople used to crowd about him for the purpose of hearing his performance\nupon the ivy leaf, which he played upon by putting it in his mouth, and\nuttering a most melodious whistle. Altogether, he was a man of great\nnatural powers, and possessed such a memory as the writer of this never\nknew any human being to be gifted with. He not only remembered everything\nhe saw or was concerned in, but everything he heard also. His language,\nwhen he spoke Irish, was fluent, clear, and sometimes eloquent; but when\nhe had recourse to the English, although his fluency remained, yet it was\nthe fluency of a man who made an indiscriminate use of a vocabulary which\nhe did not understand. His pedantry on this account was highly ludicrous\nand amusing, and his wit and humour surprisingly original and pointed.\nHe had never received any education, and was consequently completely\nilliterate, yet he could repeat every word of Gallagher\u2019s Irish Sermons,\nDonlevy\u2019s Catechism, Think Well On\u2019t, the Seven Champions of Christendom,\nand the substance of Pastorini\u2019s and Kolumb Kill\u2019s Prophecies, all by\nheart. Many a time I have seen him read, as he used to call it, one of Dr\nGallagher\u2019s Sermons out of the skirt of his big-coat; a feat which was\nlooked upon with twice the wonder it would have produced had he merely\nsaid that he repeated it. But to read it out of the skirt of his coat!\nHeavens, how we used to look on with awe and veneration, as Tom, in a\nloud rapid voice, \u201crhymed it out of him,\u201d for such was the term we gave\nto his recital of it! His learning, however, was not confined to mere\nEnglish and Irish, for Tom was also classical in his way, and for want\nof a better substitute it was said could serve mass, which must always\nbe done in Latin. Certain it was that he could repeat the _Deprofundis_,\nand the Seven Penitential Psalms, and the _Dies Ir\u00e6_, in that language.\nWe need scarcely add, that in these learned exhibitions he dealt largely\nin false quantities, and took a course for himself altogether independent\nof syntax and prosody; this, however, was no argument against his natural\ntalents, or the surprising force of his memory.\n\nTom was also an easy and happy _Improviser_ both in prose and poetry;\nhis invention was indeed remarkably fertile, but his genius knew no\nmedium between encomium and satire. He either lashed his friends, for\nthe deuce an enemy he had, with rude and fearful attacks of the latter,\nor gave them, as Pope did to Berkley, every virtue under heaven, and\nindeed a good many more than ever were heard of beyond his own system of\nphilosophy and morals.\n\nTom was a great person for attending wakes and funerals, where he\nwas always a busy man, comforting the afflicted relatives with many\nlearned quotations, repeating _ranns_, or spiritual songs, together\nwith the Deprofundis or Dies Ir\u00e6, over the corpse, directing even the\ndomestic concerns, paying attention to strangers, looking after the\npipes and tobacco, and in fact making himself not only generally useful,\nbut essentially necessary to them, by his happiness of manner, the\ncordiality of his sympathy, and his unextinguishable humour.\n\nAt one time you might see him engaged in leading a Rosary for the\nrepose of the soul of the departed, or singing the Hermit of Killarney,\na religious song, to edify the company; and this duty being over, he\nwould commence a series of comic tales and humorous anecdotes, which he\nnarrated with an ease and spirit that the best of us all might envy. The\nIrish heart passes rapidly from the depths of pathos to the extremes of\nhumour; and as a proof of this, we can assure our readers that we have\nseen the nearest and most afflicted relatives of the deceased carried\naway by uncontrollable laughter at the broad, grotesque, and ludicrous\nforce of his narratives. It was here also that he shone in a character of\nwhich he was very proud, and for the possession of which he was looked\nup to with great respect by the people; we mean that of a polemic, or,\nas it is termed, \u201can arguer of Scripture,\u201d for when a man in the country\nparts of Ireland wins local fame as a controversialist, he is seldom\nmentioned in any other way than as a great arguer of Scripture. To argue\nscripture well, therefore, means the power of subduing one\u2019s antagonist\nin a religious contest. Many challenges of this kind passed between Tom\nand his polemical opponents, in most or all of which he was successful.\nHis memory was infallible, his wit prompt and dexterous, and his humour\neither broad or sarcastic, as he found it convenient to apply it. In\nthese dialectic displays he spared neither logic nor learning: where an\nEnglish quotation failed, he threw in one of Irish; and where that was\nunderstood, he posed them with a Latin one, closing the quotation by\ndesiring them to give a translation of it; if this too were accomplished,\nhe rattled out the five or six first verses of John in Greek, which some\none had taught him; and as this was generally beyond their reading, it\nusually closed the discussion in his favour. Without doubt he possessed\na mind of great natural versatility and power; and as these polemical\nexercitations were principally conducted in wake-houses, it is almost\nneedless to say that the wake at which they expected him was uniformly a\ncrowded one.\n\nTom was very punctual in attending fairs and markets, which he did for\nthe purpose of bringing to the neighbouring farmers a correct account\nof the state of cattle and produce; for such was the honour in which\nhis knowledge and talents were held, that it was expected he should\nknow thoroughly every topic that might happen to be discussed. During\nthe peninsular war he was a perfect oracle, but always maintained that\nBonaparte never would prosper, in consequence of his having imprisoned\nthe Pope. He said emphatically, that he could not be shot unless by a\nconsecrated bullet, and that the said bullet would be consecrated by\nan Irish friar. It was not Bonaparte, he insisted, who was destined to\nliberate Ireland: that could never be effected until the Mill of Louth\nshould be turned three times with human blood, and that could not happen\nuntil a miller with two thumbs on each hand came to be owner of the mill.\nSo it was prophesied by _Beal Dearg_, or the man with the red mouth, that\nIreland would never be free until we first had the Black Militia in our\nown country, and that no rebellion ever was or could be of any use that\ndid not commence in the Valley of the Black Pig, and move upwards from\nthe tail to the head. These were axioms which he laid down with great and\ngrave authority; but on none of his authentic speculations into futurity\ndid he rely with more implicit confidence than the prophecy he generously\nascribed to St Bridget, that George the Fourth would never fill the\nthrone of England.\n\nTom had a good flexible voice, and used to sing the old Irish songs of\nour country with singular pathos and effect. He sang Peggy Slevin, the\nRed-haired Man\u2019s Wife, and Shula Na Guira, with a feeling that early\nimpressed itself upon my heart. Indeed we think that his sweet but\nartless voice still rings in our ears; and whilst we remember the tears\nwhich the enthusiasm of sorrow brought down his cheeks, and the quivering\npause in the fine old melody which marked what he felt, we cannot help\nacknowledging that the memory of these things is mournful, and that the\nhearts of many, in spite of new systems of education and incarcerating\npoor-houses, will yearn after the homely but touching traits which marked\nthe harmless Shanahus, and the times in which he lived. Many a tear has\nhe beguiled us of in our youth when we knew not why we shed them. One of\nthese sacred old airs, especially, we could never resist, \u201cthe Trougha,\u201d\nor \u201cthe Green Woods of _Trough_;\u201d and to this day we remember with a\ntrue and melancholy recollection that whenever Tom happened to be asked\nfor it, we used to slink over to his side and whisper, \u201cTom, don\u2019t sing\n_that_; it makes me sorrowful;\u201d and Tom, who had great goodness of heart,\nhad consideration for the feelings of the boy, and sang some other. But\nnow all these innocent fireside enjoyments are gone, and we will never\nmore have our hearts made glad by the sprightly mirth and rich good\nhumour of the Shanahus, nor ever again pay the artless tribute of our\ntears to his old pathetic songs of sorrow, nor feel our hearts softened\nat the ideal miseries of tale or legend as they proceeded in mournful\nrecitative from his lips. Alas! alas! knowledge may be power, but it is\n_not_ happiness.\n\nSuch is, we fear, an imperfect outline of Tom\u2019s life. It was one of ease\nand comfort, without a care to disturb him, or a passion that was not\ncalmed by the simple but virtuous integrity of his life. His wishes were\nfew, and innocently and easily gratified. The great delight of his soul\nwas not that he should experience kindness at the hands of others, but\nthat he should communicate to them, in the simple vanity of his heart,\nthat degree of amusement and instruction and knowledge which made them\nlook upon him as a wonderful man, gifted with rare endowments; for in\nwhat light was not that man to be looked upon who could trace the old\nnames up to times when they were great, who could climb a genealogical\ntree to the top branch, who could repeat the Seven Penitential Psalms\nin Latin, tell all the old Irish tales and legends of the country, and\nbeat Paddy Crudden the methodist horse-jockey, who had the whole Bible\nby heart, at arguing Scripture? Harmless ambition! humble as it was, and\nlimited in compass, to thee it was all in all; and yet thou wert happy in\nfeeling that it was gratified. This little boon was all thou didst ask\nof life, and it was kindly granted thee. The last night we ever had the\npleasure of being amused by Tom was at a wake in the neighbourhood, for\nit somehow happened that there was seldom either a wake or a dance within\ntwo or three miles of us that we did not attend; and God forgive us,\nwhen old Poll Doolin was on her death-bed, the only care that troubled\nus was an apprehension that she might recover, and thus defraud us of a\nright merry wake! Upon the occasion we allude to, it being known that\nTom Grassiey would be present, of course the house was crowded. And when\nhe did come, and his loud good-humoured voice was heard at the door,\nheavens! how every young heart bounded with glee and delight!\n\nThe first thing he did on entering was to go where the corpse was laid\nout, and in a loud rapid voice repeat the Deprofundis for the repose\nof her soul, after which he sat down and smoked a pipe. Oh, well do I\nremember how the whole house was hushed, for all was expectation and\ninterest as to what he would do or say. At length he spoke--\u201cIs Frank\nMagaveen there?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll\u2019s that left o\u2019 me\u2019s here, Tom.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 if the sweep-chimly-general had his due, Frank, that wouldn\u2019t be\nmuch; and so the longer you can keep him out of that same, the betther\nfor yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cFolly on Tom! you know there\u2019s none of us all able to spake up to _you_,\nsay what you will.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s not so when you\u2019re beside a purty girl, Frank. But sure that\u2019s not\nsurprisin\u2019; you were born wid butther in your mouth, an\u2019 that\u2019s what\nmakes your orations to the fair sect be so soft an\u2019 meltin\u2019, ha, ha, ha!\nWell, Frank, never mind; there\u2019s worse where you\u2019ll go to: keep your own\ncounsel fast: let\u2019s salt your gums, an\u2019 you\u2019ll do yet. Whisht, boys; I\u2019m\ngoin\u2019 to sing a _rann_, an\u2019 afther that Frank an\u2019 I will pick a couple o\u2019\ndozen out o\u2019 yez \u2018to box the Connaughtman.\u2019\u201d Boxing the Connaughtman is\na play or diversion peculiar to wakes; it is grotesquely athletic in its\ncharacter, but full, besides, of comic sentiment and farcical humour.\n\nHe then commenced an Irish rann or song, the substance of which was as\nfollows, according to his own translation:--\n\n\u201cSt Patrick, it seems, was one Sunday morning crossing a mountain on his\nway to a chapel to say mass, and as he was an humble man (coaches wern\u2019t\nthen invented, at any rate) an\u2019 a great pedestrium (pedestrian), he took\nthe shortest cut across the mountain. In one of the lonely glens he met\na herd-caudy, who spent his time in eulogizin\u2019 his masther\u2019s cattle,\naccording to the precepts of them times, which was not by any means so\nlarned an\u2019 primogenitive as now. The countenance of the dog was clear\nan\u2019 extremely sabbathical; every thing was at rest barring the little\nriver before him, an\u2019 indeed one would think that it flowed on with more\ndecency an\u2019 betther behaviour than upon other sympathising occasions.\nThe birds, to be sure, were singin\u2019, but it was aisy to see that they\nchirped out their best notes in honour of the day. \u2018Good morrow on you,\u2019\nsaid St Patrick; \u2018what\u2019s the raison you\u2019re not goin\u2019 to prayers, my fine\nlittle fellow?\u2019\n\n\u2018What\u2019s prayers?\u2019 axed the boy. St Patrick looked at him with a very\npitiful and calamitous expression in his face. \u2018Can you bless yourself?\u2019\nsays he. \u2018No,\u2019 said the boy. \u2018I don\u2019t know what it means?\u2019 \u2018Worse and\nworse,\u2019 thought St Patrick.\n\n\u2018Poor bouchal, it isn\u2019t your fault. An how do you pass your time here?\u2019\n\n\u2018Why, my mate (food) \u2019s brought to me, an\u2019 I do be makin\u2019 kings\u2019 crowns\nout of my rushes, whin I\u2019m not watching the cows an\u2019 sheep.\u2019\n\nSt Patrick sleeked down his head wid great dereliction, an\u2019 said, \u2018Well,\nacushla, you do be operatin\u2019 kings\u2019 crowns, but I tell you you\u2019re born\nto wear a greater one than a king\u2019s, an\u2019 that is a crown of glory. Come\nalong wid me.\u2019\n\n\u2018I can\u2019t lave my cattle,\u2019 said the other, \u2018for fraid they might go\nastray.\u2019\n\n\u2018Right enough.\u2019 replied St Patrick, \u2018but I\u2019ll let you see that they\nwon\u2019t.\u2019 Now, any how St Patrick undherstood cattle irresistibly himself,\nhavin\u2019 been a herd-caudy (boy) in his youth; so he clapped his thumb to\nhis thrapple, an\u2019 gave the Soy-a-loa to the sheep, an\u2019 behould you they\ncame about him wid great relaxation an\u2019 respect. \u2018Keep yourselves sober\nan\u2019 fictitious,\u2019 says he, addressin\u2019 them, \u2018till this boy comes back, an\u2019\ndon\u2019t go beyant your owner\u2019s property; or if you do, it\u2019ll be worse for\nyez. If you regard your health durin\u2019 the approximatin\u2019 season, mind an\u2019\nattend to my words.\u2019\n\nNow, you see, every sheep, while he was spakin\u2019, lifted the right fore\nleg, an\u2019 raised the head a little, an\u2019 behould when he finished, they\nkissed their foot, an\u2019 made him a low bow as a mark of their estimation\nan\u2019 superfluity. He thin clapped his finger an\u2019 thumb in his mouth, gave\na loud whistle, an\u2019 in a periodical time he had all the other cattle on\nthe hill about him, to which he addressed the same ondeniable oration,\nan\u2019 they bowed to him wid the same polite gentility. He then brought the\nlad along wid him, an\u2019 as they made progress in the journey, the little\nfellow says,\n\n\u2018You seem frustrated by the walk, an\u2019 if you\u2019ll let me carry your bundle,\nI\u2019ll feel obliged to you.\u2019\n\n\u2018Do so,\u2019 said the saint; \u2018an\u2019 as it\u2019s rather long, throw the bag that the\nthings are in over your shoulder; you\u2019ll find it the aisiest way to carry\nit.\u2019\n\nWell, the boy adopted this insinivation, an\u2019 they went ambiguously along\ntill they reached the chapel.\n\n\u2018Do you see that house?\u2019 said St Patrick.\n\n\u2018I do,\u2019 said the other; \u2018it has no chimley on it.\u2019\n\n\u2018No,\u2019 said the saint; \u2018it has not; but in that house, Christ, he that\nsaved you, will be present to-day.\u2019 An\u2019 the boy thin shed tears, when\nhe thought of the goodness of Christ in saving one that was a stranger\nto him. So they entered the chapel, an\u2019 the first thing the lad was\nstruck with was the beams of the sun that came in through the windy\nshinin\u2019 beside the altar. Now, he had never seen the like of it in a\nhouse before, an\u2019 thinkin\u2019 it was put there for some use or other in the\nintarior, he threw the wallet, which was like a saddle-bag, across the\nsunbeams, an\u2019 lo an\u2019 behould you the sunbeams supported them, an\u2019 at the\nsame time a loud sweet voice was heard, sayin\u2019, \u2018This is my servant St\nKieran, an\u2019 he\u2019s welcome to the house o\u2019 God!\u2019 St Patrick then tuck him\nan\u2019 instructed him in the various edifications of the larned languages\nuntil he became one of the greatest saints that ever Ireland saw, with\nthe exception an\u2019 liquidation of St Patrick himself.\u201d\n\nSuch is a faint outline of the style and manner peculiar to the\nnarratives of Tom Grassiey. Indeed, it has frequently surprised not only\nus, but all who knew him, to think how and where and when he got together\nsuch an incredible number of hard and difficult words. Be this as it\nmay, one thing was perfectly clear, that they cost him little trouble\nand no study in their application. His pride was to speak as learnedly\nas possible, and of course he imagined that the most successful method\nof doing this was to use as many sesquipedalian expressions as he could\ncrowd into his language, without any regard whatsoever as to their\npropriety.\n\nImmediately after the relation of this legend, he passed at once into\na different spirit. He and Frank Magaveen marshalled their forces, and\nin a few minutes two or three dozen young fellows were hotly engaged in\nthe humorous game of \u201cBoxing the Connaughtman.\u201d Boxing the Connaughtman\nwas followed by \u201cthe Standing Brogue\u201d and \u201cthe Sitting Brogue,\u201d two\nother sports practised only at wakes. And here we may observe generally,\nthat the amusements resorted to on such occasions are never to be found\nelsewhere, but are exclusively peculiar to the house of mourning, where\nthey are benevolently introduced for the purpose of alleviating sorrow.\nHaving gone through a few more such sports, Tom took a seat and addressed\na neighbouring farmer, named Gordon, as follows:--\u201cJack Gordon, do you\nknow the history of your own name and its original fluency?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed no, Tom, I cannot say I do.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, boys, if you derogate your noise a little, I\u2019ll tell you the\norigin of the name of Gordon; it\u2019s a story about ould Oliver Crummle,\nwhose tongue is on the look-out for a drop of wather ever since he went\nto the lower story.\u201d This legend, however, is too long and interesting\nto be related here: we are therefore forced to defer it until another\nopportunity.\n\n\n\n\nSEALS OF IRISH CHIEFS.\n\nBy George Petrie, R.H.A., M.R.I.A.\n\n(Concluded from No. 45.)\n\n\nThe next seal which I have to exhibit, belongs to a chief of another\nand nobler family of Thomond, the O\u2019Briens, kings of the country, and\ndescendants of the celebrated monarch Brian Boru. This seal is also from\nthe collection of the Dean of St Patrick\u2019s, and was purchased a few years\nsince in Roscrea. Its type is unlike the preceding, as, instead of the\narmed warrior, it presents in the field the figure of a griffin.\n\nThe inscription reads, _Sigillum: Brian: I Brian_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nIn the genealogies of this illustrious family, which are remarkable for\ntheir minuteness and historical truth, two or three chiefs bearing the\nChristian name of Brian occur. But from the character of the letters on\nthis seal, I have little hesitation in assigning it to Brian O\u2019Brian,\nwho, according to the Annals of the Four Masters, succeeded to the\nlordship of Thomond in 1343, and was killed in 1350.\n\nThe next seal which I have to exhibit is also from the Dean\u2019s collection,\nand, though of later date, is on many accounts of still higher interest\nthan perhaps either of the preceding. It is the seal of a chief of the\nO\u2019Neills, whose family were for seven hundred years the hereditary\nmonarchs of Ireland.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThis seal was found about ten years since in the vicinity of Magherafelt,\nin the county of Derry, and was purchased by the Dean from a shopkeeper\nin that town some years after. The arms of O\u2019Neill, the bloody hand,\nappear on a shield, and the legend reads, _Sigillum Maurisius_ [Maurisii]\n_ui Neill_. The name Mauritius, which occurs in this inscription, does\nnot occur in the genealogies of the O\u2019Neill family, and is obviously but\na latinised form of the name Murtogh or Muircheartach, which was that of\ntwo or three chiefs of the family; and of these I am inclined to ascribe\nthis seal to Murtogh Roe, or the Red O\u2019Neill, lord of Clanaboy, who,\naccording to the Annals of the Four Masters, died in 1471.\n\nThese are all the seals of Irish princes which have fallen under my\nobservation. But there remain two of equal antiquity, but which belonged\nto persons of inferior rank, which it may interest the Academy to see.\nThe first, which is in my own collection, exhibits the figure of an\nanimal, which I must leave to the zoologists of the Academy to describe,\nwith the legend _Sigillum Mac Craith Mac I Dafid_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe O\u2019Dafys were an ancient family in Thomond, and are still very\nnumerous in the county of Clare.\n\nThe next and last is from the cabinet of the Dean, and is very remarkable\nin having the head of a helmeted warrior cut on a cornelian within the\nlegend, which reads, _Sigillum Brian: O\u2019Harny_.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe O\u2019Harnys are a very ancient and still numerous family in Kerry,\ndescendants of the ancient lords of that country, and remarkable in\nhistory as poets and musicians.\n\nI have only to add, that it will be observed that these seals are all of\na round form, which characterises the seals of secular persons, while\nthose belonging to ecclesiastics were usually oval.\n\n\n\n\nORIGIN AND MEANINGS OF IRISH FAMILY NAMES.\n\nBY JOHN O\u2019DONOVAN.\n\nFourth Article.\n\n\nHaving in the last article spoken of the origin of surnames in Ireland,\nand of the popular errors now prevailing respecting them, I shall next\nproceed to notice certain epithets, sobriquets, &c., by which the Irish\nchieftains and others of inferior rank were distinguished.\n\nBesides the surnames, or hereditary family names, which the Irish people\nassumed from their ancestors, it appears from the authentic annals that\nmost, if not all, of their chieftains had attached to their Christian\nnames, and sometimes to their surnames, certain cognomens by which\nthey were distinguished from each other. These cognomens, or, as they\nmay in many instances be called, sobriquets, were given them from some\nperfection or imperfection of the body, or some disposition or quality\nof the mind, from the place of birth, or the place of fosterage, and\nvery frequently from the place of their deaths. Of the greater number of\nthese cognomens, the pedigree of the regal family of O\u2019Neill furnishes\nexamples, as Niall Roe, _i. e._ Niall the Red, who flourished about the\nyear 1225, so called from his having red hair; Hugh Toinlease (a name\nwhich requires no explanation), who died in 1230; Niall More, _i. e._\nNiall the Great, who died in 1397; Con Bacach, _i. e._ Con the Lame, who\nwas created Earl of Tyrone in 1542. Among the same family we meet Henry\nAvrey, _i. e._ Henry the Contentious, Shane an Dimais, _i. e._ John the\nProud. Of the cognomens derived from the places in which and the families\nby whom they were fostered, the pedigree of the same family affords\nseveral instances, as Turlogh Luineach, so called from his having been\nfostered by O\u2019Luney, chief of Munterluney in Tyrone; Niall Conallach, so\ncalled from his having been fostered by O\u2019Donnell, chief of Tirconnell;\nShane Donnellach, so called from his having been fostered by O\u2019Donnelly\n(An Four Masters, 1531 and 1567); and Felim Devlinach, so called from\nhis foster-father O\u2019Devlin, chief of Munter-Devlin, near Lough Neagh,\nin the present county of Londonderry. Various examples of cognomens\ngiven to chieftains from the place or territory in which they were\nfostered, are to be met with in other families, as, in that of O\u2019Brien,\nDonogh Cair-breach, who was so called from his having been fostered by\nO\u2019Donovan, chief of Carbery Aeva, the ancient name of the plains of the\ncounty of Limerick. In the regal family of Mac Murrough of Leinster,\nDonnell Cavanagh was so called from having been fostered by the Coarb\nof St Cavan, at Kilcavan, near Gorey, in Hy-Dea, in the present county\nof Wexford. This cognomen of Donnell has been adopted for the last two\ncenturies as a surname by his descendants, a thing very unusual among\nIrish families. In the family of Mac Donnell of Scotland, John Cahanach\nwas so called from his having been fostered by O\u2019Cahan or O\u2019Kane, in the\npresent county of Londonderry.\n\nIn the pedigrees of other families, various instances are on record of\ncognomens having been applied by posterity to chieftains from the place\nof their deaths; in the family of O\u2019Neill, for example, Brian Chatha an\nDuin, or \u201cof the battle of Down,\u201d was so called by posterity from his\nhaving been killed in a battle fought at Downpatrick in the year 1260;\nin the family of O\u2019Brien, Conor na Siudaine, from the wood of Suidain in\nBurren, in which he was killed in the year 1267; and in the family of Mac\nCarthy, the celebrated Fineen Reanna Roin, from his having been killed\nat the castle of Rinn Roin in the year 1261, after a brilliant career of\nvictory over the English.\n\nOn this subject of cognomens and sobriquets among the Irish, Sir Henry\nPiers wrote as follows in the year 1682, in a description of the county\nof Westmeath, written in the form of a letter to Anthony Lord Bishop of\nMeath, and published in the first volume of Vallancey\u2019s Collectanea:--\n\n\u201cEvery Irish surname or family name hath either O or Mac prefixed,\nconcerning which I have found some make this observation, but I dare\nnot undertake that it shall hold universally true, that such as have O\nprefixed were of old superior lords or princes, as O\u2019Neal, O\u2019Donnell,\nO\u2019Melaghlin, &c., and such as have Mac were only great men, viz,\nlords, thanes, as Mac Gennis, Mac Loghlin, Mac Doncho, &c. But however\nthis observation [may] hold, it is certain they take much liberty,\nand seem to do it with delight, in giving of nicknames; and if a man\nhave any imperfection or evil habit, he shall be sure to hear of it\nin the nickname. Thus, if he be blind, lame, squint-eyed, grey-eyed,\nbe a stammerer in speech, be left-handed, to be sure he shall have\none of these added to his name; so also from his colour of hair, as\nblack, red, yellow, brown, &c.; and from his age, as young, old; or\nfrom what he addicts himself to, or much delights in, as in draining,\nbuilding, fencing, or the like; so that no man whatever can escape a\nnickname who lives among them, or converseth with them; and sometimes so\nlibidinous are they in this kind of raillery, they will give nicknames\n_per antiphrasim_, or contrariety of speech. Thus a man of excellent\nparts, and beloved of all men, shall be called _grana_, that is, naughty\nor fit to be complained of; if a man have a beautiful countenance or\nlovely eyes, they will call him Cueegh, that is, squint-eyed; if a\ngreat housekeeper, he shall be called Ackerisagh, that is greedy.\u201d\n(_Collectanea_, vol. I. p. 113.)\n\nIn the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when the Irish families\nincreased, and their territories were divided into two and three parts\namong rival chieftains of the same family, each of the chieftains adopted\nsome addition to the family surname for the sake of distinction. Thus,\namong the O\u2019Conors of Connaught we find O\u2019Conor Don, _i. e._ O\u2019Conor the\nbrown-haired, and O\u2019Conor Roe, or the red-haired. This distinction was\nfirst made in the year 1384, when Torlogh Don and Torlogh Roe, who had\nbeen for some time in emulation for the chieftainship of the territory\nof Shilmurry, agreed to have it divided equally between them; on which\noccasion the former was to be called O\u2019Conor Don, and the latter O\u2019Conor\nRoe. (See Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Charles O\u2019Conor). It is\nnow supposed by many of the Irish that the epithet Don postfixed to the\nname of the chief of the O\u2019Conors is a Spanish title! while those who\nare acquainted with the history of the name think that he should reject\nit as being a useless sobriquet, and more particularly now, as there is\nno O\u2019Conor Roe from whom he needs to be distinguished. It is true that\nthe O\u2019Conor Don might now very lawfully be called the O\u2019Conor, as there\nis no O\u2019Conor Roe or O\u2019Conor Sligo, at least none who take the name; but\nas he had borne it before O\u2019Conor Roe disappeared, we would not advise\nit to be rejected for another generation, as we think that an O\u2019Conor\nRoe will in the meantime make his appearance, for we are acquainted with\nan individual of that name who knows his pedigree well, but is not\nsufficiently wealthy to put himself forward as an Irish chieftain.\n\nIn the same province we find the Mac Dermots of Moylurg divided into\nthree distinct families the head of whom was, _par excellence_, styled\nthe Mac Dermot, and the other two who were tributary to him called, the\none Mac Dermot Roe, _i. e._ the Red, and the other Mac Dermot Gall,\nor the Anglicised. In Thomond we find the Mac Namaras split into two\ndistinct families, distinguished by the names of Mac Namara Fin, _i. e._\nthe Fair, and Mac Namara Reagh, or the Swarthy. In Desmond the family\nof Mac Carthy split into three powerful branches, known by the names of\nMac Carthy More or the Great, Mac Carthy Reagh or the Swarthy, and Mac\nCarthy Muscryagh, _i. e._ of Muskerry. Beauford asserts with his usual\nconfidence that Mac Carthy Reagh signifies Mac Carthy the King, but this\nis utterly fallacious, for the epithet, which is anglicised Reagh, is\nwritten _riach_ and _riabhach_, in the original annals of Inisfallen and\nof the Four Masters, and translated _fuscus_ by Philip O\u2019Sullivan Beare\n(who knew the import of it far better than Beauford) in his History of\nthe Irish Catholics published at Lisbon in 1621. The O\u2019Sullivans split\ninto the families of O\u2019Sullivan More and O\u2019Sullivan Beare; the O\u2019Donovans\ninto those of O\u2019Donovan More, O\u2019Donovan Locha Crot, and O\u2019Hea O\u2019Donovan;\nthe O\u2019Kennedys of Ormond into those of O\u2019Kennedy Finn, O\u2019Kennedy Roe, and\nO\u2019Kennedy Don; the O\u2019Farrells of Annally into those of O\u2019Farrell Bane,\n_i. e._ the White, and O\u2019Farrell Boy, or the Yellow, &c., &c.\n\nThe foregoing notices are sufficient to show the nature of the surnames\nin use among the ancient Scotic or Milesian Irish families. It will\nbe now expected that I should say a few words on the effect which the\nAnglo-Norman invasion and the introduction of English laws, language,\nand names, have had in changing or modifying them, and on the other hand\nthe influence which the Irish may have had in changing or modifying the\nEnglish names.\n\nAfter the murder, in 1333, of William de Burgo, third Earl of Ulster\nof that name, and the lessening of the English power which resulted\nfrom it, many if not all of the distinguished Anglo-Norman families\nlocated in Connaught and Munster became hibernicised--_Hibernis ipsis\nHiberniores_--spoke the Irish language, and assumed surnames in imitation\nof the Irish by prefixing Mac (but never O in any instance) to the\nChristian names of their ancestors. Thus the De Burgos in Connaught took\nthe name of Mac William from their ancestor William de Burgo, and were\ndivided into two great branches, called Mac William Oughter and Mac\nWilliam Eighter, _i. e._ Mac William Upper and Mac William Lower, the\nformer located in the county of Galway, and the latter in that of Mayo;\nand from these sprang many offshoots who took other surnames from their\nrespective ancestors, as the Mac Davids of Glinsk, the Mac Philbins of\nDun Mugdord in Mayo, the Mac Shoneens, now Jennings, and the Mac Gibbons,\nnow Fitzgibbons. The Berminghams of Dunmore and Athenry in Connaught,\nand of Offaly in Leinster, took the name of Mac Feoiris, from Pierce,\nthe son of Meyler Bermingham, who was one of the principal heads of that\nfamily in Ireland. The head of the Stauntons in Carra took the name of\nMac Aveely. The chief of the Barretts of Tirawley took the name of Mac\nWattin, and a minor branch of the same family, located in the territory\nof the Two Backs, lying between Lough Con and the river Moy, assumed that\nof Mac Andrew, while the Barretts of Munster took the now very plebeian\nname of Mac Phaudeen, from an ancestor called Paudeen, or Little Patrick.\nThe De Exeters of Gallen, in Connaught, assumed the surname of Mac Jordan\nfrom Jordan De Exeter, the founder of that family; and the Nangles of the\nsame neighbourhood took that of Mac Costello. Of the Kildare and Desmond\nbranches of the Fitzgeralds there were two Mac Thomases, one in Leinster,\nand the other in the Desies, in the now county of Waterford, in Munster.\nA branch of the Butlers took the name of Mac Pierce, and the Poers, or\nPowers, that of Mac Shere. The Freynes of Ossory took the name of Mac\nRinki, and the Barrys that of Mac Adam. In the present county of Kilkenny\nwere located two families, originally of great distinction, who took\nthe strange name of Gaul, which then signified Englishman, though at an\nearlier period it had been a term applied by the Irish to all foreigners;\nthe one was Stapleton, who was located at Gaulstown, in the parish of\nKilcolumb, barony of Ida, and county of Kilkenny; the other a branch of\nthe Burkes, who obtained extensive estates in that part of Ireland, and\ndwelt at Gaulstown, in the barony of Igrine. The writer, who is the sixth\nin descent from the last head of this family, has many of his family\ndeeds, in which he styles himself sometimes Galle and sometimes Galle\nalias Borke; on his tomb, however, in his family chapel at Gaulskill, he\nis called Walterus De Burgo without the addition of Galle, and is there\nsaid to be descended from the Red Earl of Ulster. His descendants now\nall retain the name of Gaul, as do those of his neighbour Stapleton. The\nFitzsimons, in Westmeath, took the name of Mac Ruddery, and the Wesleys\nthat of Mac Falrene, &c. &c.\n\nEdmund Spenser, secretary to the Lord Arthur Grey (deputy of Ireland\nunder Queen Elizabeth in the year 1580), attempted to prove that many\ndistinguished families then bearing Irish surnames, and accounted of\nIrish origin, were really English. This, however, is undoubtedly false,\nand is a mere invention of the creative fancy of that great poet and\npolitician: but as it has been received as truth by Sir Charles Coote\nand other English writers, we shall show how Spenser deceived himself or\nwas deceived on this point. He instances the following families: 1, The\nMac Mahons of Oriel in Ulster, who, as he states on the authority of the\nreport of some Irishmen, came first to Ireland with Robert de Vere, Earl\nof Oxford, under the name of Fitz-Ursula: 2, The Mac Mahons of the South:\n3, The Mac Sweenys of Munster: 4, The Mac Sheehys of Munster: 5, The\nO\u2019Brins or O\u2019Byrnes of Leinster: 6, The O\u2019Tooles of the same province:\n7, The Cavanaghs: 8, The Mac Namaras of Thomond. But he gives no proof\nfor his assertions but the report of some Irishmen, corroborated by\netymological speculations of his own; and as the report of some unnamed\npersons can have no weight with us when in direct contradiction of the\nauthentic annals of the country, I shall slightly glance at some of\nthe most important of his etymological evidences, and then give my own\nproofs of the contrary. To prove that the Mac Mahons of Oriel are the\nFitz-Ursulas, he says that _Mahon_ signifies _bear_ in Irish, and hence\nthat Mac Mahon is a translation of Fitz-Ursula; but granting that _Mahon_\ndoes mean a _bear_, it does not follow that Mac Mahon is a translation of\nFitz-Ursula. But we have stronger reasons to urge than to prove that this\nis a _non sequitur_, for we have the testimony of the authentic pedigree\nof the Mac Mahons of Oriel, and of the annals of Ulster, that the Mac\nMahons had been located in Oriel and had borne that name long before\nthe English invasion. The Mac Mahons and Mac Namaras of the south are a\nbranch of the Dal-Cais, a great tribe located in Thomond, whose history\nis as certain from the ninth century as that of any people in Europe.\nThe Mac Sweenys and Mac Sheehys of Munster are of Irish origin, but\ntheir ancestors removed to Scotland in the tenth century, or beginning\nof the eleventh, and some of their descendants returned to Ireland in\nthe beginning of the fourteenth century, and were hereditary leaders of\nGallowglasses to many Irish chieftains. To prove that the Byrnes, Tooles,\nand Cavanaghs, are of British origin, he has recourse also to etymology,\nwhich is a great lever in the hand of a historical charlatan, and says,\nin the first place, that _Brin_ in the Welsh language means woody, and\nthat hence the O\u2019Brins or O\u2019Byrnes must be of Welsh origin. But admitting\nthat _Brin_ does in the Welsh language mean woody, what has that to do\nwith O\u2019Brain, the original Irish name of O\u2019Byrne, especially when it can\nbe proved that that surname was called after Bran, king of Leinster, who\nwas usually styled Bran Duv, _i. e._ the Black Raven, from the colour of\nhis hair, and his thirst for prey. Secondly, to prove that O\u2019Toole is a\nWelsh name, he says that _tol_ means hilly in the Welsh language! and so\ndoes _tol_ in Irish bear this meaning. But what, I would ask, has that to\ndo with O\u2019Tuathail, or descendants of Tuathal, the son of Ugaire, from\nwhom this family have taken their surname? The name Tuathal, signifying\n_the lordly_, has no more to do with _tol_, a hill, than it has with the\nEnglish word _tool_, to which it has been anglicised for the last two\ncenturies. Thirdly, to prove that the name Cavanagh is of Welsh origin,\nhe asserts that Kaevan in Welsh signifies _strong_ in English. This may\nbe true; but what has the signification of the Welsh word Kaevan to do\nwith the name of the Mac Murroghs of Leinster, who assumed the cognomen\nof Cavanagh from Donnell Cavanagh, the son of Dermot Mac Murrogh, who had\nhimself received this name from his having been fostered at Kilcavan in\nthe north-east of the present county of Wexford? _Spectatum admissi risum\nteneatis amici?_\n\nThese errors of Spenser have been already exposed by Dr Jeffry Keating, a\nman of learning and undoubted honesty, but of great simplicity, which is\ncharacteristic of the age in which he lived, also by Gratianus Lucius,\nand by the learned Roderic O\u2019Flaherty, who has devoted a chapter of his\nOgygia to prove that Spenser, though a distinguished poet, can have no\nclaim to credit as a historian. Spenser\u2019s purpose in fabricating this\nstory about the Mac Mahons was to hold them up as objects of hatred\nto the Irish and English people, as being descended from the murderer\nof Thomas \u00e0 Becket. He never succeeded, however, in convincing Ever\nMac Cooley, or any other of the rebels of the Farney, that they were\ndescended from the Beares of England! Spenser also asserts that _it was\nsaid_ that most of the surnames ending in _an_, though then considered\nIrish, were in reality English, such as Hernan, Shinan, Mungan, &c. I\ndo not, however, believe a word of this latter assertion of the great\nEnglish poet, but conclude, with the simple and honest Keating, that, \u201cas\nbeing a poet, he gave himself, as was usual with the profession, licence\nto revel in poetic fictions, which he dressed in flowery language to\ndecoy his reader.\u201d For we know that there is not a single instance on\nrecord of any Anglo-Norman family having taken any Irish names except\nsuch as they formed from the names or titles of their own ancestors by\nprefixing Mac, which they considered equivalent to the Norman Fitz, as\nMac Maurice, Mac Gibbon, Mac Gerald, Mac William, which are equivalent\nto Fitz-Maurice, Fitz-Gibbon, Fitz-Gerald, Fitz-William. In this manner,\nhowever, the great Anglo-Norman families of the south and west of\nIreland, who were after all more French and Irish than they were English\n(their ancestors having dwelt scarcely a century in England), nearly all\nhibernicised their names. It seems rather curious that Spenser has not\nfurnished any list of those Anglo-Norman families who really hibernicised\ntheir names, while he was so minute in naming those who were not English,\nbut whom he wished to make appear as such, in order to be enabled to\ncensure them the more harshly for their treasons and rebellions. He\ncontents himself by stating that there were great English families in\nIreland who, he regretted to say, had become Irish in name and feeling.\nThe manner in which he states this fact is worthy of consideration, and I\nshall therefore insert his very words here as they appear in the Dublin\nedition:--\u201cOther great houses there bee of the English in Ireland, which\nthorough licentious conversing with the Irish or marrying or fostering\nwith them, or lacke of meet nurture [_i. e._ education or rearing],\nor such other unhappy occasions, have degendred from their auncient\ndignities, and are now growne \u2018_as Irish as O\u2019Hanlon\u2019s breech_,\u2019 as the\nproverbe there is.\u201d\n\nSir Henry Piers of Tristernagh, in the county of Westmeath, complains of\nthe same custom among the families of English descent, in about a century\nafter Spenser\u2019s period.\n\n\u201cIn the next place, I rank the degeneracy of many English families as\na great hindrance of the reducing this people to civility, occasioned\nnot only by fostering, that is, having their children nursed and bred\nduring their tender years by the Irish, but much more by marriages\nwith them, by means whereof our English in too many great families\nbecame in a few generations one both in manners and interest with the\nIrish, insomuch as many of them have not doubted [_i. e._ hesitated]\nto assume even Irish names and appellations: instances whereof are but\ntoo many even to this day: thus a Bermingham is called by them Mac\nYoris, Fitz-Simmons, Mac Kuddery [_recte_ Mac-Ruddery], Wesley [_i. e._\nWellesley], Mac Falrene, &c., and from men thus metamorphosed what could\nbe expected?\u201d--_Collectanea_, vol. I. p. 105.\n\nOn the other hand, the Irish families who lived within the English\npale and in its vicinity gradually conformed to the English customs,\nand assumed English surnames; and their doing so was deemed to be of\nsuch political importance that it was thought worthy the consideration\nof parliament: accordingly it was enacted by the statute of 5 Edward\nIV (1465), that every Irishman dwelling within the English pale, then\ncomprising the counties of Dublin, Meath, Louth, and Kildare, should take\nan English surname. This act is so curious as illustrating the history of\nIrish family names, that it demands insertion in this place.\n\n\u201cAn act, that the Irish men dwelling in the counties of Dublin, Myeth,\nUriell, and Kildare, shall goe apparelled like English men, and weare\ntheire beards after the English maner, sweare allegeance, and take\nEnglish surname.\u201d--_Rot. Parl. ca. 16._\n\n\u201cAt the request of the Commons it is ordeyned and established by\nauthority of the said parliament, that every Irish man that dwells\nbetwixt or amongst Englishmen in the county of Dublin, Myeth, Uriell,\nand Kildare, shall goe like to one Englishman in apparell, and shaveing\noff his beard above the mouth, and shal be within one yeare sworne the\nliege man of the king in the hands of the lieutenant or deputy, or such\nas he will assigne to receive this oath for the multitude that is to be\nsworne, and shall take to him an English surname of one towne, as Sutton,\nChester, Trym, Skryne, Corke, Kinsale; or colour, as white, blacke,\nbrowne; or arte or science, as smith or carpenter; or office, as cooke,\nbutler; and that he and his issue shall use this name under payne of\nforfeyting of his goods yearely till the premises be done, to be levied\ntwo times by the yeare to the king\u2019s warres, according to the discretion\nof the lieutenant of the king or his deputy.\u201d--5 _Edward_ IV. cap. 3.\n\n\u201cIn obedience to this law,\u201d observes Harris, in his additions to Ware,\n\u201cthe Shanachs took the name of Foxes, the Mac Gabhans of Smiths, Geals of\nWhites, the Branachs of Walshes, and many others; the said words being\nonly literal translations from the Irish into the English language.\u201d\nHarris, however, I may remark, is very much mistaken when he supposes\nthat the Branachs (Brea\u1e6bnai\u0121, _i. e._ _Britones_) of the English pale in\nIreland are an Irish family, or that any ancient Irish family had borne\nthat name before the Anglo-Norman and Welsh families settled in Ireland\ntowards the latter end of the twelfth century; and he is also wrong in\nassuming that the Irish word for _Geal_, white, was by itself ever used\nas the name of any family in Ireland. In the other two instances he is\ncorrect; for the head of the O\u2019Caharnys of Teffia, who was usually styled\nthe Shinnagh, translated his name into Fox, and the Mac-an-Gowans and\nO\u2019Gowans translated their name into Smith.\n\nThe importance thus attached by this act to the bearing of an English\nsurname soon induced many of the less distinguished Irish families of the\nEnglish pale and its vicinity to translate or disguise their Irish names,\nso as to make them appear English ones, as Mac Intire to Carpenter,\nMac Spallane to Spenser, Mac Cogry to L\u2019Estrange, &c.; but the more\ndistinguished families of the pale and its vicinity, as Mac Murrogh,\nO\u2019Brennan, O\u2019Kayly, and others, retained with pride their original Irish\nnames unaltered; for while they could look back with pride on a long line\nof ancestors, they could not bear the idea of being considered as the\ndescendants of tradesmen and petty artizans, a feeling which prevails at\nthe present day, and will prevail for ever; for though a man has himself\nsunk into poverty, he still feels a pride in believing that he is of\nrespectable origin. It is certain, however, that the translation and\nassimilation of Irish surnames to English ones was carried to a great\nextent in the vicinity of Dublin and throughout Leinster; and hence it\nmay at this day be safely concluded that many families bearing English\nsurnames throughout the English pale are undoubtedly of Milesian or\nDanish origin.\n\nIt appears, however that this statute had not the intended effect; for,\nabout a century after its having passed, we find Spenser recommending a\nrenewal of it, inasmuch as the Irish had then become as Irish as ever.\nHis words on this point are highly interesting, as throwing great light\non the history of Irish surnames towards the close of the sixteenth\ncentury, and we shall therefore lay them before the reader:--\n\n\u201cMoreover, for the better breaking of these heads _and_ [of?] septs which\n(I told you) was one of the greatest strengthes of the Irish, methinkes\nit should be very well to renewe that ould statute which was made in the\nreigne of Edward the Fourth in Ireland, by which it was commanded, that\nwhereas all men used to be called by the name of their septs, according\nto the severall nations, and had no surnames at all, that from henceforth\neach one should take upon himself a severall surname, either of his trade\nand faculty, or of some quality of his body or minde, or of the place\nwhere he dwels, so as every one should be distinguished from the other,\nor from the most part, whereby they shall not only not depend upon the\nhead of their sept, as now they do, but also in time learne quite to\nforget his [their] Irish nation. And herewithal would I also wish all the\nO\u2019s and the Mac\u2019s which the heads of septs have taken to their names,\nto be utterly forbidden and extinguished. For, that the same being an\nordinance (as some say) first made by O\u2019Brien for the strengthening of\nthe Irish, the abrogating thereof will as much enfeeble them.\u201d\n\nTowards the close of the next century we find Sir Henry Piers of\nTristernagh, in his account of the county of Westmeath, rejoicing that\nthe less distinguished Irish families were beginning to take English\nsurnames:--\n\n\u201cThese, I suppose, may be reckoned among the causes of the slow progress\nthis nation hath made towards civility and accommodation to our English\nlaws and customs; yet these notwithstanding, this people, especially\nin this and the adjoining counties, are in our days become more polite\nand civil [civilized] than in former ages, and some very forward to\naccommodate themselves to the English modes, particularly in their habit,\nlanguage, and surnames, which _by all manner of ways they strive to make\nEnglish or English like_; this I speak _of the inferior rank of them_.\nThus you have Mac Gowan surname himself Smith; Mac Killy, Cock; Mac\nSpallane, Spenser; Mac Kegry, L\u2019Estrange, &c., herein making small amends\nfor our degenerate English before spoken of.\u201d\n\nBut I have exceeded the space which the Journal allows for this article,\nand I must defer the remainder to a future number, promising the reader\nthat I shall make every effort to bring the subject of Irish surnames to\na conclusion in two additional articles.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nARISTOCRATIC TRAVELLING.--Mr Theobald was at that instant speaking to\nLord Bolsover. \u201cListen,\u201d said the Earl of Rochdale to Arlington, \u201cand\nyou will hear some of the uses and advantages of travel.\u201d Arlington\naccordingly directed his attention to the speakers. \u201cI will just tell\nyou what I did,\u201d said Mr Theobald. \u201cBrussels, Frankfort, Berlin, Vienna,\nMunich, Milan, Naples, and Paris, and all that in two months. No man\nhas ever done it in less.\u201d \u201cThat\u2019s a fast thing; but I think I could\nhave done it,\u201d said Lord Bolsover, \u201cwith a good courier. I had a fellow\nonce who could ride a hundred miles a-day for a fortnight.\u201d \u201cI came from\nVienna to Calais,\u201d said young Leighton, \u201cin less time than the government\ncourier. No other Englishman ever did that.\u201d \u201cHem! I am not sure of\nthat,\u201d said Lord Bolsover. \u201cBut I\u2019ll just tell you what I have done: from\nRome to Naples in nineteen hours; a fact, upon my honour; and from Naples\nto Paris in six days.\u201d \u201cPartly by sea?\u201d interrogated Leighton. \u201cNo! all\nby land,\u201d replied Lord Bolsover, with a look of proud satisfaction.\n\u201cI\u2019ll just tell you what I did,\u201d Mr Leighton chimed in again, \u201cand I\nthink it is a good plan--it shows what one _can_ do. I went straight on\nend, as fast as I could, to what was to be the end of my journey. This\nwas Sicily. So straight away I went there at the devil\u2019s own rate, and\nnever stopped anywhere by the way; changed horses at Rome and all those\nplaces, and landed in safety in----I forget exactly how long from the\ntime of starting, but I have got it down to an odd minute. As for the\nplaces I left behind, I saw them all on my way back, except the Rhine,\nand I steamed down that in the night-time.\u201d \u201cI have travelled a good deal\nby night,\u201d said Theobald. \u201cWith a _dormeuse_ and travelling lamp I think\nit is pleasant, and a good plan of getting on.\u201d \u201cAnd you can honestly\nsay, I suppose,\u201d said Denbigh, \u201cthat you have slept successfully through\nas much fine country as any man living?\u201d \u201cOh, I did see the country,\u201d\nreplied Theobald, \u201cthat is, all that was worth seeing. My courier knew\nall about that, and used to stop and waken me whenever we came to\nanything remarkable. Gad! I have reason to remember it, too, for I caught\nan infernal bad cold one night when I turned out by lamp-light to look\nat a waterfall. I never looked at another.\u201d There was a pause in the\nconversation, and the group moved onwards to another room.--_Arlington, a\nTale, by the Hon. Mr Lister._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTruth will never be palatable to those who are determined not to\nrelinquish error, but can never give offence to the honest and\nwell-meaning; for the plain-dealing remonstrances of a friend differ as\nwidely from the rancour of an enemy as the friendly probe of a physician\nfrom the dagger of an assassin.--_E. W. Montague._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPARENTAL DUTIES.--Bring thy children up in learning and obedience, yet\nwithout outward austerity. Praise them openly, reprehend them secretly.\nGive them good countenance and convenient maintenance, otherwise thy\nlife will seem their bondage, and what portion thou shalt leave them at\nthy death they will thank death for it, and not thee. And I am persuaded\nthat the foolish cockering of some parents, and the overstern carriage\nof others, cause more men and women to take ill courses than their own\nvicious inclinations. Marry thy daughters in time, lest they marry\nthemselves; and train not up thy sons in the wars, for he that sets up\nhis rest to live by that profession can hardly be an honest man or a good\nChristian; besides, it is a science no longer in request than use, for\nsoldiers in peace are like chimneys in summer.--_Lord Burleigh\u2019s Maxims._\n\n\n\n\nHALF AN HOUR IN IRELAND.\n\n(_From Charles O\u2019Malley._)\n\n\nWhen the Bermuda transport sailed from Portsmouth for Lisbon, I happened\nto make one of some four hundred interesting individuals, who, before\nthey became food for powder, were destined to try their constitutions on\npickled pork. The second day after our sailing, the winds became adverse;\nit blew a hurricane from every corner of the compass but the one it\nought; and the good ship, that should have been standing straight for the\nBay of Biscay, was scudding away with a double-reefed topsail towards\nthe coast of Labrador. For six days we experienced every sea-man\u0153uvre\nthat usually preludes a shipwreck; and at length, when, what from sea\nsickness and fear, we had become utterly indifferent to the result, the\nstorm abated, the sea went down, and we found ourselves lying comfortably\nin the harbour of Cork, we had a strange suspicion on our minds that the\nfrightful scenes of the past week had been nothing but a dream.\n\n\u201cCome, Mr Medlicot,\u201d said the skipper to me, \u201cwe shall be here for\na couple of days to refit; had you not better go ashore and see the\ncountry?\u201d\n\nI sprung to my legs with delight; visions of cowslips, larks, daisies,\nand mutton chops, floated before my excited imagination, and in ten\nminutes I found myself standing at that pleasant little inn at Cove,\nwhich, opposite Spike Island, rejoices in the name of the Goat and\nGarters.\n\n\u201cBreakfast, waiter,\u201d said I; \u201ca beefsteak--fresh beef, mark ye; fresh\neggs, bread, milk, and butter, all fresh.\u201d No more hard tack, thought I,\nno salt butter, but a genuine land breakfast.\n\n\u201cUp stairs, No. 4, sir,\u201d said the waiter, as he flourished a dirty\nnapkin, indicating the way.\n\nUp stairs I went, and in due time the appetizing little _dejeune_ made\nits appearance. Never did a miser\u2019s eye revel over his broad acres with\nmore complacent enjoyment than did mine skim over the mutton and the\nmuffin, the teapot, the trout, and the devilled kidney, so invitingly\nspread out before me. Yes, thought I, as I smacked my lips, this is the\nreward of virtue; pickled pork is a probationary state that admirably\nfits us for future enjoyments. I arranged my napkin upon my knee, I\nseized my knife and fork, and proceeded with most critical acumen to\nbisect a beefsteak. Scarcely, however, had I touched it, when with a loud\ncrash the plate smashed beneath it, and the gravy ran piteously across\nthe cloth. Before I had time to account for the phenomenon, the door\nopened hastily, and the waiter rushed into the room, his face redolent\nwith smiles, while he rubbed his hands in an ecstacy of delight.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s all over, sir;\u201d said he, \u201cglory be to God, it\u2019s all done.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s over? what\u2019s done?\u201d said I with impatience.\n\n\u201cM\u2019Mahon is satisfied,\u201d replied he, \u201cand so is the other gentleman.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho and what the devil do you mean?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s over, sir, I say,\u201d replied the waiter again; \u201che fired in the air.\u201d\n\n\u201cFired in the air,\u201d said I. \u201cDid they fight in the room below stairs?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir,\u201d said the waiter with a benign smile.\n\n\u201cThat will do,\u201d said I, as seizing my hat I rushed out of the house, and\nhurrying to the beach took a boat for the ship. Exactly half an hour had\nelapsed since my landing, but even those short thirty minutes had fully\nas many reasons, that although there may be few more amusing, there are\nsome safer places to live in than the green island.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAll men are masked; the world is one universal disguise, each individual\nendeavouring to fathom his neighbour\u2019s intentions, at the same time\nwishing to hide his own, and, above all, striving to secure a reputable\ncharacter rather by words than deeds.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPersons who are always innocently cheerful and good-humoured are very\nuseful in the world; they maintain peace and happiness, and spread a\nthankful temper amongst all who live around them.--_Miss Talbot._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, at\n    the Office of the General Advertiser, No. 6, Church Lane,\n    College Green, Dublin.--Agents:--R. GROOMBRIDGE, Panyer Alley,\n    Paternoster Row, London; SIMMS and DINHAM, Exchange Street,\n    Manchester; C. DAVIES, North John Street, Liverpool; JOHN\n    MENZIES, Prince\u2019s Street, Edinburgh; and DAVID ROBERTSON,\n    Trongate, Glasgow.","title":"The Irish Penny Journal, Vol. 1 No. 48, May 29, 1841","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":11537}