Irish Democrat June 1990

~ 5 5
OBITUARY
No path for a
wimp
ABOUT 15 years ago I acquired a radio cassette recorder,
and, living in Lancashire with excellent
RTE reception, made a hobby of recording its best.
On St Patrick's Day 1 recorded the sweet lilting
Irish of a Protestant service from Cork, and Ecumenical
Service, also in Irish, and an Irish Mass from Maynooth.
The chief Maynooth celebrant was the College's President,
Monsignor Tomas O'Fiach.
The Cosgrave coalition was then in office and its most
noteworthy spokesman was Conor Cruise O'Brien, Minister
for Posts and Telegraphs and chief overseer of RTE.
O'Fiach's accent lacked the musicallity of Cork, or indeed,
Belfast, having the harsh edge of South Armagh and North
" Louth.
But to my ears his sermon was music.
He started with the observation that for some fashionable
trendsetters to be Irish and Catholic were causes for shame
and breastbeating.
He spoke of the life of St Patrick.
His discourse was peppered with words such as 'neart'
(strength) and 'croga' (brave) which in Irish have a resonance,
not found in English, which the Greeks called onomatopoeia,
to indicate that to follow St Patrick was no path for a
wimp.
It was not a political sermon, textually, but the Minister
for Posts and Telegraphs, if he heard it, (and he collected
subversive' letters from the newspapers) must have welcomed
it like a Semtex enema.
It surprised and delighted me when O'Fiach was raised to
the See of Patrick. The media 'stick' he got both sides of the
Irish Sea was entirely predictable.
It wasn't till I spoke to a friend from Crossmaglen that I
realised what a really popular man O'Fiach was with the
laity. For all the bunkum about the Irish being priest-ridden,
the most pious Catholics among them can be scathing about
their clergy. And one priest, when I mentioned what a good
press a certain bishop had had, assured me the Diocesan
clergy regarded him as a shit, a verdict he endorsed heartily.
It's been a sad spectacle these past couple of decades to
see Irish men and women, some of real talent and learning,
selling their souls and their country, for a well paid job, or
an approving editorial, in London, Brussels, or - god help us!
- Dublin.
Of those who bucked the trend the outstanding examples
were Tomas O'Fiach and Cearbhaill O'Dalaigh. I believe
both will retain a warm place in Irish hearts when their detractors,
if remembered at all, will have joined the Quislings
of Norway and the collaborators of Vichy France, in the dustbin
of European history.
I had a glimpse of the effect O'Dalaigh had on those who
met him from an Englishwoman who worked as a translator
at the European Court when he was a judge there. She had
no interest in nor knowledge of politics, nor did I mention
O'Dalaigh to her. She said he was a lovely man, well-liked
by all who had dealings with him.
Vet, when he was President of Ireland, a Yahoo of a
Defence Minister call him a 'thundering disgrace' to Irish sol
diers, who, led by their Chief of Staff, applauded the insult.
The key positions in Irish affairs could do with more like
Tomas O'Fiach rind Cearbhaill O'Dalaigh, who brought to
their high offices culture and courtesy, and the character,
when circumstances demanded, to kick against the pricks.
D DONAL KENNEDY
Sean fhocail agus abairti
Le Seamus 0 Cionnfhaoia
1. Ta se chomh gasta leis na beacha: he is as cute as the bees
2. Ni! aon bheann agat air: you need not care how the (storm) of winter
will l.cvj
3. Talamh maith chur, beatha a tiuirt: good land for crop
4. Thug s6 an bhion6g sin as a chabail: he made sudden spring (out
ol his body)
5. Nach grdnna ari bhiuch e ar dhuine uasal mar e?: is that not an evil
quality in a gentleman like him?
6. Bean chabhra: a midwife
7. Nior chuir aon dulne aon spfach orm: no-one annoyed me, interfered
with me
8. Cuir s6 spraoch as: he sneezed (alr,o sprae)
9. Dein taca do: help him in lifting
10. Thug m6 urmhur an lae Inne ins na faillte: I spent the greater part
of yesterday on the cliffs
IRISH DEMOCRAT June 1990 page 6
IRISH SONGS EDITED BY PATHICh
Matt Hyland
There was a lord lived in this town,
Who had a handsome comely daughter,
Was courted by a fair young man,
Who was a servant to her father,
But when her parents came to know,
They vowed they'd make him leave the island,
This lady knew her heart would break,
Had she to part with young Matt Hyland.
The lord discoursed with his dear wife fair,
One night alone in their bed-chamber,
"Matt Hyland I will send afar,
I fear my child doth stand in danger."
This lady gay in ambush lay,
While deep depressed she lay repining,
"My father I will him deceive,
Won't I protect my own Matt Hyland."
Straightway off to her love she went.
And ordered him for to awaked,
Saying "arise my dear and go your way,
For this night you will be taken,
Last night i hc^rd my father say,
In spite of fate he would transport you,
So arise my dear and leave this place,
For you know well I do adore you."
"Oh must I go away?" he said,
"Oh must I go without my wages,
Without a shilling in my purse,
Just like a poor forlorn stranger?"
"Here's fifty shillings in bright gold,
Ain't that far more than my father owes you?
So arise my dear and go your way,
For I wish to God I'd gone before you."
'Twas on a bank they both sat down,
Just for the space of on half-hour,
And not a word did either speak,
But down their cheeks the tears did pour,
She laid her head upon his breast,
Around his neck her arms entwined them
"No lord nor duke nor earl I'll wed,
I'll wait for you, my own Matt Hyland."
The lord surveyed his daughter's plight,
One night alone as she lay crying,
"I will give you leave to bring him back,
Since there's no one you style above him."
She wrote a letter then in haste,
For him her heart was still repining,
She brought him back, to the church they wen
And she made a lord of young Matt Hyland.
The Old Bog Road
My feet are here on Broadway
This blessed harvest morn,
But oh, the ache thaf s in my heart
For the spot where I was born.
My weary hands are blistered
Through toil in cold and heat
But oh, to swing a scythe again
Through a field of Irish wheat.
Had I the chance to wander back
Or own a king's abode
Ifs soon I'd see the hawthorn tree
By the Old Bog Road.
When I was young and restless
My mind was ill at ease
Through dreaming of America
And the gold beyond the seas.
Oh sorrow take their money!
'Tis hard to find the same
And whafs the world to any man
Where no one speaks his name?
I've had my day and here I am
A-building bricks per load
A long three thousand miles away
From the Old Bog Road.
My mother died last springtime
When Ireland's fields are green
And the neighbours said her waking
Was the finest ever seen.
Snowdrops and primroses
Piled up beside her bed
And Ferns church was crowded
When the funeral Mass was said -
And here was I on Broadway
A-building bricks per load
When they carried out her coffin
Down the Old Bog Road.
**-. »
Ah, life's a weary puzzle
Past finding our by man
I'll take each day for what it's worth
And do the best I can;
Since no one cares a rush for me
What point is there to moan?
I'll go my way and draw my pay
And smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must bear its grief.
Though heavy be the load.
So God be with you Ireland
And the Old Bog Road.
Thank You Ma'am Says Dan
"What brought you into my house,
To my house, to my house,
What brought you into my house?"
Said the mistress unto Dan.
"I came here to court your daughter, ma'am,
I thought it no great harm, ma'am."
"Oh, Dan, me dear, you're welcome here."
"Thank you ma'am," says Dan.
"How came you to know my daughter,
Mv daughter, my daughter,
How came you to know my daughter?"
Said the mistress unto Dan.
"going to the well for water, ma'am,
To raise the can 1 taught her ma'am."
"Oh, Dan, 'tis you're the handy man."
"Thank you ma'am," says Dan.
"She's a bonny girl, your daughter,
Your daughter, your daughter,
She's a bonny girl, your daughter,
And I like her well," said Dan
"She's a girl that's fit for any man
And has a gradh for you, dear Dan.
Oh, Dan, me dear, you're welcome here."
"Thank you ma'am," says Dan.
"Oh you can have my daughter,
My daughter, my daughter,
yes you can have my daughter."
Says the mistress unto Dan.
"But when you take my daughter, Dan,
Of course, you'll take me also, Dan,
oh, Dan, me dear, you're welcome here,"
"Thank you, ma'am," says Dan.
This couple, they got married,
Got married, got married,
This couple, they got married,
Miss Elizabeth and Dan.
And now he keeps her mother,
And her father and her brother and,
"Oh, Dan, 'tis you're the lucky man,"
"Go to Hell," says Dan.
BOOK S /'AGE
CONOR FOLEY previews ITV's four-hour epic on the 'shoot-to-kill' affair
HOOT TO KILL is a four
1 hour epic reconstruction of
k the six killings in Armagh in
11982 that Stalker was sent to
f
investigate,andtheconspiricy
of lies he came up against. It
inishes With his removal from the
inquiry just as it reached its climax.
The firsthalf is being screened on the
ITV network on Sunday 3 June with
the second half being shown the following
night.
It is beautifully filmed and well
acted and directed. Panoramic and
slow paced if allows the real drama
of the events to unfold in a compelling
fashion. It underlines how much
material there would be for some really
good Irish war films if companies
had the guts to make them.
Despite its name, Shoot To Kill does
not place the Armagh killings in their
political perspective. There is very
little background information about
the conflict or even mention of the
other executions which took place
during the same period, the three
incidents are portrayed as botched
revenge for the death of three RUC
men blown up by the IRA in the area.
Nevertheless, the implication of the
film is that shoot to kill is a standard
xjlicy in the province, condoned at
he most senior levels so long as the
murders are not too blatant. When.
John Hermon, convincingly portrayed
by TP McKenna, hears of the
lirst killing for instance, he immediately
tells his press officer to stress
he fictitious injury suffered by an
3UC man—Hie CID officer who appears
at the scene of the killing is
similarly compliant in not interviewing
any of the RUC unit until they
li&ve had a chance to make up their
story about a non-existent road
block. Quite clearly the only reason
why these particular executions became
the subject of an inquiry was
because firstlythey were "cock-ups"
within the RUCs own terms of reference,
secondly they came so close
together and thirdly the lies came out
in a courtroom. .
There are some brilliantly subtle
touches, like the servility of a gardai
officer who accidentally holds up an
v
under cover RUC unit making a
cross-border incursion. A quote
from Chief Inspector Flanagan, who
organised both the murders and the
cover-up, to one of his subordinates
that "the Official Secrets Act requires
you say what I tell you to say" is only
equalled by Pat Finucane's sardonic
Pyella Ignota
deserve.
Kevin Barry and his Time, Donal O'Donovan, Glendale What stands out clearly is the careless unconcern
Publications £7.95 paperback
of leaders who sent out a civilian lad to fight
against professional killers, and gave him no better
weapon than a gun which was out of action. His
38 Mauser automatic was made in 1915 and was
THIS BOOK was written by a nephew of Kevin numbered RJR 995 KN2. And it was useless for
Barry, and as a member of the family he had anything. When you read the story for yourselves,
access to the clan lore and the relevant documents
forthis work. He also had great help from British on a plate, by his very own people, for
you will see that young Barry was handed to the
the research already done by Mr ODonovan Senior
who had once written an unpublished book The book contains transcripts of telegrams ex-
whom he had dedicated himself.
about Kevin,
changed, messages sent, words from the exchanges
at the trial. It is obvious that Kevin was to
the introduction by Tim Pat Coogan is in itself
worth reading. He describes Bany's death as a be executed anyway, evidence or no evidence.
media event, and leads us to think of how our The hypocrisy and double standard of the highest
martyrs today tend to be hidden away in disgrace, authorities come out in the clear, lite British used
or their bodies reviled and desecrated.
the very same tactic that they still use wherever
The narrative proper is also very readable and they are. They treated the War of Liberation as a
immediately gripping It is, however unemotional criminal episode, and the Irish soldiers as murderers.
Which is ironical coming frompeople who
and objective, very low-key, with no dramatic effects.
There is a very little touch of hero worship, exterminated whole races and even carried away
maybe, which is refreshing in these days of herohatred.
The imperial arrogance and immorality is always
the bones to Britain.
Aflsinsta "idrop of blazing Dublin, we see the there. Young Barry was not shot as a soldier but
sacrificial i es, larger than life, their actions hanged as a criminal, although he was a prisoner
tremendous* but the rhetoric subdued- They were of war. Barry's nobility is manifest throughout, in
rtvwe of whom the land was not worthy. They his calm acceptance of his fete. He adjured his
represent a yesterday which today may not sister, Kathy, to make sure that there would be no
comment to Stalker that the rightto
silence has not been taken away yet.
Subsequent events give added.significance
to the venom with which an
RUC officer screams at Stalker for
having that conversation.
Stalker and his deputy, who acted
as the film's consultant, are the only
two people whose characters are
treated in any depth but the film is
less guilty of using "the natives" as a
backdrop for an English/American
hero than most of those currently circulating
about Vietnam or Central
America.
Instead they are portrayed as incredulous
outsiders gradually realising
what a corrupt, sectarian cess-pit
they have wandered into. "They're
out of control" says Stalker.as he realises
that the CID man who investigated
the killings had himself
ordered the doctoring of evidence
and Judge Gibson commends an
RUC unit for bringing three unarmed
men "to the final court of justice".
"These people are more li)tir death
squads from a Banana Republic"
concludes the Manchester police
man only to have the words thrown
back at him when Flanagan taunts
them that the inquiry team's office
has been bugged fromthe start.
The RUC's growing confidence
comes fromthe knowledge that Stalker
is being set up through their contacts
across die water which results
in his suspension and removal from
the inquiry. His subsequent fate, and
those of the other main characters,
are summarised in brief texts before
the finalcredits. Notable exceptions
are Michael Tighe, Eugene Toman,
Sean Burns, Gervais McKerr, Roddy
Carroll and Seamus Grew, six dead
men who who have been joined by
many others since then.
So don't stop being angry when the
film ends.
• ••
appeal. He also sealed his own fate by .fefiisutg to
give any information tohis interrogators. The contrast
is great between his magnanimity and the
peevish, stupid vindictiveness of the British. He
was reluctant to complain of the ill-treatment he
had received in the interrogation and gave bare
details in an understated way. It was clear to all
who saw him that his arm was in a sling, but the
authorities were livid with anger that a legal figure
drew attention to the feet.
This work contains many ballads and poems
written about Barry and his death, which was
highly memorable amdng patriot deaths. He was
pre-eminent as a martyr because many families
were so grateful to him for not breaking under
interrogation. Also there may have been understandable
remorse Oat he had been so easily and
with such insouciance, thrown to the wolves.
The toneof the narrative is so calm and restrained
that it acts as an anaesthesia against the full horror
of the events. The official reassurance was that the
death was instantaneous, but who believes the
voice of obsessive executioners? This is an inspiring
episode in the history of Ireland, and the
author deserves our gratitude for getting it into
print before the revisionists get a chance to destroy
this heroic figure as they have done so many
others. This book is to be had at the Four Provinces
Bookshop and it is the read of a lifetime!
Chronicle of
constant
Constance
Doris Daly
Constance Markievicz • an
Independent Life, Anne Haverty,
Pandora Press £7.95
THIS BIOGRAPHY, published
1988, of the Countess Msrklevlcz
brings a new dimension to
the life and times of Constance
Georglna Gore-Booth and
brings up the major figures of
her day Into a bas-relief on
backdrop of luminaries who so
Influenced and shaped her
extraordinary life and Indeed
helped shape the events on Europe's
mainland and Its Islands
at the turn of the century, events
that have not yet been resolved!
Constance wae born In the shadow
of Buckingham Palace into
an Irish aristocratic family on her
father's side, and related to Lord
Scarborough on her mother's
side, on February 4th 1868. She
was reared In Idyllic splendour
St Llssadel Court, County SHgo
within the sight of magical Ben
Bulban and the volatile Atlantic
Ocean, the natural kingdom of
King Lyr: an indication of her
natural development?
She died penniless In a public
ward of Sir John Dunne's Hospital,
OubHn on July ISth 1827, her
daughter Maeve by her aids.
The Free State Government refused
to allow her mortal remains
to lie In State at the
Mansion House so she lay instead
in the Rotunda Clnemecum-dancehall
for two days and
nights guarded by her own boys
of Flanna nah Elreann aa they
people of Dublin, vety particularly
the poor, paid their reapectato
this the greatest of Irish heroines.
Authoress Anne Haverty faithfully
chronicles this amazing life
with a clarity gleaned from meticulous
research and an absolute
understanding of the setting
and the political Jasues of Marklevlcz's
lifetime. But to find the
real Maridevicz one has to be
detective and aage and shrewdly
sift between the Nnes to evaluate
Constance the Art Student, the
wife of an Impoverished Polish
count, the traunatiaed postpuerpal
mother, the revolutionary,
the crack ahot In the Citizen
Army, leader of Fianna nah-
Elreann (Boy's Brigade), the
playwright, poet, actreee, the
soldier at aims, the Committee
Q A M l a H a l ||, . — -a n , - ., , H y
socialist, me prisoner, me poetrcian,
the first woman In Europe
Minister of State, the beloved
step-mother and most amazing
of all that of Roman Catholic
Convert!
Ma Haverty leaves no stone unturned
and even consults the
rish Astrological Society for a
Natal Horoecope of Markievicz.
I warmly recommend thle book
and Indeed suggest further reedng
of Curloua Journey by Kenneth
Griffith and Tim O'Grady
and avallabls only from Four
Provlncss Bookshop for ths
special price of £5.
I It t 8 M DIM 0 C It A T 4 * a S 1 8 8 8 f a ft S