Hornpipe Magazine, Irish Culture abstracts, Vol. 3.

Volume 3, Issue 6

Who shot Michael Collins?

This hero of modern Irish history was shot to death at the height of his career by assailants unknown. This made him a legendary martyr of the fight for freedom and 2002 is the anniversary of his assassination.

It has been eighty years since Irish patriot and hero Michael Collins was shot dead in an ambush in his home county of Cork. The assassination cast a pale of the new Irish Free State that was then in a civil war. The murder brought peace but at what price? Were Ireland's further troubles, right up today, exacerbated by this single act? No one can say but there are plenty of historians and scholars with opinions.

Additionally, there remains a complete official mystery around the identity of the actual killer or killers. It is fairly well accepted that Collins' death was an act of his political rivals but like the Kennedy assassination, theories about the actual gunmen range from betrayal by his bodyguards to a lone gunman on a nearby hill to a British conspiracy.

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Volume 3, Issue 6

How did St. Valentine come to rest at a Dublin church?
By Dermot O'Gara

Just about everybody knows that St. Valentine is the patron saint of lovers. You may also know that he was a priest in Rome in the third century. And, if you're really on top of your game, you may even know that he died in jail, but you probably didn't know that his final resting place is Dublin.

In fact, the priests of the Carmelite Order have been looking after his remains in their priory in Whitefriar Street just off Aungier Street in Dublin, for more than 160 years.

We have a good deal of information about St. Valentine, but separating the fact from the legend is a bit like trying to separate a teenage couple at a school dance.

St. Valentine was martyred in 269 AD, supposedly for marrying couples against the wishes of Emperor Claudius II who felt that single men made better soldiers. Legend would have it that he died for his faith on February 14th of that year, and that this is why we celebrate on that day.

It is more likely, however, that the fact that we celebrate St. Valentine's Day at this time of year has more to do with the ancient Roman spring fertility festival of Lupercalia. Like many other pagan holidays this festival was Christianized in 498 AD when Pope Gelasius decreed that February 14th would be St. Valentine's Day.

But how did a Roman Martyr, who had never even set foot in what was later to become an island of saints and scholars, end up in a Dublin church?

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Volume 3, Issue 5

Good will towards men - all men

At worst, global events will make these holidays bleak for those peoples who celebrate Christmas. At best, those same events will remind us of what we need to focus on. In a world where the maniacal whimsy of one person can snuff out thousands of lives in an instant we need to frequently tell those we love how much we care.

For Americans, the bonhommie of holiday air travel will be replaced with stressful hours wondering if the man-men, to whom Christmas is an infidel rite, will use that time to strike again. This fear will be shared by other Christian nations whose airlines are as vulnerable as our own.

Much anticipated Christmas mail will be looked upon with a tinge of suspicion s a result of evil minds using the mails - albeit unsuccessfully - to try spreading sickness to the population.

Despite all this, most of us have so much to be thankful for in our world. Home, family, friends, work, play, music, dance and the continuity of each day. Even with these disruptions to our peace of mind we still need to be thinking about and praying for peace on earth.

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Volume 3, Issue 5

The songs of Aran: Stronghold of Celtic culture

The dawning of a new millennium has forever thrust the global community into an age of technology, the ramifications of which we are yet to see. Yet with all the technical resources at our finger tips, cultural identity remains the crux of the human experience - a yearning for belonging. Though it be dulled by distractions of life, we irrevocably seek our identity.

Ragus, yet another of the Irish culture exports, now in its third year, captures the Gaelic world like no other show. Make no mistake that the dance and music are genuine as other shows, perhaps even more, because the show is based upon the music and lifestyle of the Aran Islands.

Located at the mouth of Galway Bay in the west of Ireland, the group of thee small islands, totaling about 18 square miles, includes Inishmore (or Aranmore), Inishmaan, and Inisheer. Their historical importance is that they contain impressive prehistoric and early Christian forts, and are among the few areas that Irish is spoken exclusively. The Aran people lead a life completely isolated from the rest of the Irish people. It is not easy to get to and from the islands back to the mainland, as the ferry sails according to the tides and is subject to the weather, thus somewhat preserving the Irish identity, even with the onslaught of visitors today.

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Volume 3, Issue 5

12 days of Christmas

Practicing one's Roman Catholic faith, in public or private, in Ireland could, for a couple of centuries, not only get you imprisoned, it could get you hanged. ... In those times, a Roman Catholic priest found in Ireland was summarily executed along with all that aided or abetted his work to keep the faith alive. This religious tyranny presented a challenge of how to pass the tenets of the faith along to children without having catechism books for the youngsters to study and memorize.

One ingenious solution was adapting the traditional English Yule song "The Twelve Days of Christmas" into a catechism to allow young Catholics to learn the beliefs of their faith. Using the lyrics of the song to portray certain objects of Roman Catholic faith was especially clever and safe and ensured that Irish youngsters weren't being caught with Catholic writings.

Gifts alluded to in the song are, in fact, representations of Catholic beliefs while "true love" of this song is an allusion to God and the "me" was every baptized Roman Catholic. Here is a breakdown of the allegories used in the song in those times.

A Partridge in a pear tree = Jesus Christ
Two turtle doves = The Old and New Testaments
Three French hens = Faith, Hope and Charity
Four calling birds = the four Gospels
Five golden rings = the first five books of the Old Testament
Six geese a-laying = six days of creation
Seven swans a swimming = the seven Sacraments
Eight maids a milking = the eight Beatitudes
Nine ladies dancing = the nine classifications of angels
Ten lords a-leaping = The Ten Commandments
Eleven pipers piping = The eleven faithful apostles
Twelve drummers drumming = the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle's Creed

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Volume 3, Issue 5

Christmas Recipes
Kevin Danaher, The Year in Ireland. The Mercier Press, Cork, 1972

Irish Christmas Cake

Ingredients:

1 lb citron
1/2 lb candied orange and lemon peel, combined
1/2 lb dates
1/2 lb glace cherries
3 3/4 cup raisins
1 lb almonds and pecans, combined, coarsely chopped
3/4 cup brandy
1 lb brown sugar
1 lb butter, softened
15 egg yolks, beaten until thick
4 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1 tbsp cinnamon
1 tbsp cloves
1 tbsp allspice
1 tbsp nutmeg
1 1/2 tsp mace
15 egg whites, beaten until stiff

Instructions:

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Almond paste

Ingredients:

3 (9 0z) cans almond paste

Instructions:

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Royal icing

Ingredients:

Ingredients
2 egg whites
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 lb confectioners' sugar

Instructions:

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Volume 3, Issue 5

Hunting the Wren
by Pat O'Reilly

Christmas Day is one of only two days in the year when all pubs in Ireland are closed, the other being Friday before Easter (Good Friday). Christmas Day is a family day and most people stay at home, or visit friends and relatives. The following day, everything comes alive again. The 26th December, St. Stephen's Day, is known in some parts of the country as "The Wren Day" because of the tradition of Wren Hunting". In the area where I grew up, on the borders of counties Longord, Leitrim and Cavan, "Wren Hunting" is still very much alive. When we were kids, the Wren Day was one of the highlights of our year and latter half of Christmas Day would be spent practicing and getting ready, with great anticipation, for the following day.

When the day arrived, we would dress up in all sorts of guises and head off around the countryside, visiting neighbor's houses to sing a song, play a tune or dance a step and then rattle our "wren box" to collect whatever money the occupants were prepared to contribute. While it is an important part of the tradition that wren boys' faces are covered, we knew that in some houses we would get more money if they recognized us, so we wouldn't resist too much when they tried to lift our face masks to figure out who we were....

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Volume 3, Issue 5

Seamus Heaney: Nobel Poet for an Island of Poetry
by James "Seamus" McAuley

Seamus Heaney comes from a family farm near Derry city, or "Londonderry" as it was called by settlers sent there from London after King James I "awarded" title to that piece of territory to the Corporation of London during the Plantation of Ulster in the seventeenth century. That's another story, but one that has some relevance to the Seamus Heaney story.

Being of Catholic nationalist background, he was educated in Catholic schools in Derry - he attended the same school that Nobel Peace Prize winner, John Hume, went to - before going to Queen's University in Belfast, where he also taught for several years. In Belfast, he was associated with a group of young writers who have earned the province of Ulster the reputation of having more poets per square inch than any other piece of land in the English-speaking world.

His career as a teacher continued throughout his writing career, taking him eventually to the campuses of both Harvard and Oxford as a distinguished authority on all things poetic, both its theory and practice, its origins and history. Meanwhile, his poems were earning him a wider and wider readership.

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Volume 3, Issue 5

Christmas Eve 1601: Battle of Kinsale

Through one bad battlefield decision at the Battle of Kinsale, an otherwise anonymous southeastern port town, Ireland's hopes for independence from England were dashed for generations at the close of the Nine Years War.

The Nine Years War was fought because the Irish wanted freedom from English tyranny and the English wanted more land and power in Ireland. At the same time, the Protestant Reformation engendered conflict between Catholics and Protestants and Spain grabbed a chance to undercut England's powers.

The primary heroes of the Nine Years War were Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone, and Hugh O'Donnell, Earl of Tyreconnell. These last two powerful Gaelic chieftans held sway in Ulster, a place where the first English roots of domination were planted. Uprisings in Ulster launched the war and Hugh O'Neill renounced his English title of Earl of Tyronne and became the O'Neill, hereditary title of a clan chief. His victories against English forces drew him many new soldiers and popular support. Simultaneously, "Red" Hugh O'Donnell was hammering the English and captured Sligo Castle.

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Volume 3, Issue 5

TCRG survives world trade center attack

In her own words; LuAnn O'Rourke describes the events of September 11

I woke up Tuesday morning tired from the first class the previous night but glad to be back to my usual routine. I let my hair go with its natural curl that morning so I could sleep an extra half hour until 6:00. On to the 7:17 train with Steve and a kiss goodbye at Grand Central as I made my way through the normal crowd of the subway to the express train down to Fulton Street. I passed St. Paul's and the cemetery like I do every morning, stopped at Fine & Shapiro for my usual cup of coffee and made my way to my office at Empire BlueCross BlueShield on the 30th floor of World Trade One. Like clockwork I was at my desk by 8:10 and sifted through new e-mails and voicemails that came in since the day before. Suddenly I heard a boom and I was thrown from my chair and the building began to shake. I thought to myself, "My God, it's an earthquake; I'm going to die here." I looked out the window of my office to see tons of papers flying in the air. Something hit the building or exploded, maybe a helicopter hit the building? I ran out of my office where everyone gathered and asked, "What was that?" I must have grabbed my cell phone because I tried to call Steve, but to no avail. I remember someone saying to me "stop shaking", and then another voice said,"Let's get out of here." Crazy as it now seems, I ran back to my office to get my bag. When I came back, everyone was gone. I ran toward my boss's office on the west side of the building and everybody had left.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Your right of free speech owes much to Ireland

Recent letters I've received from readers of this publication reminded me of one of the greatest contributions the Irish have made to man's freedoms in the English speaking world - free speech.

The concept of being able to speak your mind at any time any place is uniquely a freedom guaranteed almost exclusively in English speaking nations. It is a relatively new concept, not really cemented in our consciousness until the smoke cleared from the recent unpleasantness between the Crown and the American Colonists. In fact, the Colonists' exercise of free speech was one of the leading causes of the Revolutionary War.

It seems that numerous Colonials were saying aloud that they thought England was taxing them excessively and unfairly; that we needed to be able to run our own affairs, and that King George was mad as a hatter. Only the final item was untrue. George, it seems, had a rare disease that made him behave erratically. Never-the-less, as pertains to George's view of the colonies, the English opposition to the rights of self government and to speak one's mind has lasted into the 21st century resulting in numerous wars in many lands.

While the Americans may have been a thorn in England's side via pamphleteering and publications by the likes of Ben Franklin and others, the Irish of that time raised the rhetoric of free and freeing speech to a high art. The oratory of Ireland's champions of independence was stirring enough to raise hopeless armed insurrections against English tyranny time and again.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Recipes

Spice beef and cabbage

Ingredients

2 lb (900 kg) spiced beef
1 large onion
1 large carrot
2 sticks of celery
2 bay leaves
2 tsp ground allspice or bouquet garni
1/2 teaspoon of dry mustard
1 large cabbage
Salt and pepper

Instructions

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Irish Potato Soup

Ingredients

2 lb (900g) of Potatoes
1 large onion
2 oz (60g) butter
2 pints (1.2L) vegetable stock
1/2 pint (300 ml) milk
1 tablespoon chives or parsley nutmeg salt and pepper
1 teaspoon of corn-flour

Instructions

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Cape Breton shows their colours
by Seamus Bellamy

A hellish bus ride ends at a heavenly gathering.

I'll tell you all about my trip to the Celtic Colours International Festival in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. It was a wonderful time filled with music and memories to cherish for a lifetime. But first you're going to have to hear about my bus ride from Halifax to Cape Breton. Bloody six hours. It was like punishment for all the misdemeanors I committed in my teens. Six hours of small children bawling. Six hours of the Ben-Gay and buckwheat smell the elderly fella sitting next to me exuded.

It was more like ten hours to the smokers, a desperate log hoping to see that next rest stop or gas station - anyplace for one wee puff to alleviate the pain of unattended addiction. I tried to sleep. I dozed for a spell and awoke in a sweat. I felt crowded and unwanted. It was raining and I knew the other passengers were behind it all. They wanted me miserable, and were conspiring. Smokers, the elderly and children. You can't trust 'em.

Cape Breton, as a rule, is beautiful. In the fall, however, the island takes care to look good for all her callers. The gorgeous green frock she wears in summer gives way to a luscious little red number that drapes her generous curves and valleys and secret places you'll never visit unless you take time to know her.

It was pitch black by the time I got off the bus on the outskirts of my destination, Baddeck, at the heart of the island. Rain fell like daggers from a fifth-story window. It was definitely Cape Breton. Bad weather goes with the island's wholesale beauty.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

In God we trust...United we stand

Because we, as Irish Americans, have known the cold wind of religious intolerance, because we know the recriminations and discriminations (sometimes whispered, sometimes shouted), we want to make a statement of solidarity with the Muslim Community who now are facing a time of great storm.

As we begin to read the names of the dead and missing, especially those names of firemen and police officers, it becomes quite clear that the end tally of Irish American deaths will be significant. Let us pause to say, that every life taken was of equal worth and we express equal remorse, regardless of race, color or creed.

But throughout history, the Irish have known an unequaled amount of sorrow. And it seems that once again our burdens will be a bit heavier than most. We have wailed in private at such nightmarish phantoms as the Irish Famine when our forefathers lost nearly 3 million of their kith and kin to ravenous hunger and disease. Another half-million lost to the cold pawing waves of the merciless North Sea during their treacherous exodus aboard the so aptly nicknamed coffin ships. Another million lost, gone without a trace, maybe to other lands, maybe they changed their names, maybe they died without issue. Whatever their course, these unrecorded, silent, fading faces will be forever among the league of the Irish "missing."

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Friendship of Ireland-Mexico; a story of treason and heroism

While Irish immigrants made great contributions to the growth of the United States from its beginnings, some found themselves abandoning their adopted land and taking up arms against other Americans. A particularly notable episode took place during the middle 1800s war between the US and Mexico.

By the 1840's a significant proportion of enlisted men in the United States Army were Catholic immigrants from Ireland. The Mexican government, aware of prejudice against immigrants to the United States, started a campaign after the Mexican War broke out to win the foreign Catholics to its cause. The Mexicans urged the Irish to throw off the burden of fighting for the "Protestant tyrants" and join the Mexicans in driving the Yankees out of Mexico. Mexican propaganda insinuated that the United States intended to destroy Catholicism in Mexico, and if Catholic soldiers fought on the side of Americans, they would be warring against their own religion.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

THE SEASON OF FESTIVALS: County Clare fest brings Feakle's magic to the world
by Thomas Miner

It could have been any rural community. Very little would distinguish this small village from the Midwestern farmlands of America...with one exception: the music.

Feakle, Co. Clare, is north of Limerick and west of Ennis and home to about 300 people, but come August, the village and the adjacent town of Scariff swell to the thousands. The Feakle International Music Festival is now entering its fourteenth year and features Irish traditional music and the talented Hayes family.

There are plenty of festivals to entertain yourself with during the summer months in Ireland. Every weekend offers opportunities, but choosing one festival to attend is an exercise in prudence. Nearly all the festivals are worthy of a visit one time or another if for no other reason than to go to the evening ceili. There are workshops by day and sessions by night. For most people, the instrument and the instructor will dictate the festival to attend. It seems everyone in Ireland plays an instrument, sings or dances.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Dublin has assimilated many cultures

A number of Continental cities may lay claim to a longer municipal history than Dublin, but few, aside from Rome or Athens, have sustained centuries of war damage from civil conflict and foreign invasion. Yet, today Dublin is a gem among decrepit European capitols in part due to rebuilding from those countless conflicts as well as the ideas and resources brought there from other lands.

The first recorded reference to habitation at the site of Dublin was a settlement called Elbana noted in the writings of Ptolemy, an Alexandrian geographer of the Second Century A.D.

A recorded military victory by the people of Dubh-linn (Black Pool) over the kingdom of Leinster occurred in 291 AD. Warfare continued to intermittently wrack Baile Atha Cliath, Dublin's official name, for another 1,700 years.

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Volume 3, Issue 4

Poised for 21st century greatness, Dublin reinvents itself

Dublin of the 21st century is postured to be one of the great cities of Europe and possibly the world. For nearly 2,000 years the Irish have thwarted and succumbed to invading forces. Through all the endured turmoil they have distinguished themselves as a resourceful people capable of preserving tradition in their own right - if not on the island itself, in the many countries they have adopted. The wars and foreign invaders transplanting their culture and imposing their law upon the inhabitants of Ireland have all failed to undermine Irish character and resilience, as evidenced in modern Dublin. Home to Trinity College, numerous churches and cathedrals, the Guinness Brewery, the Jameson Distillery, The Band of Ireland, Grafton Street, Temple Bar, and the National Gallery and Museum, Dublin can compare favorably to any of the great cities in terms of tourist attractions. The National Gallery and Museum can be visited without a fee. That in itself is a testament to the richness of appropriation and government service to the common citizens.

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Volume 3, Issue 3

Imagine the anguish of so many Irish escaping the starvation and class tyranny of British rule only to find its replica awaiting them on the pier in America, the land of opportunity.

Millions of Irish, and other immigrants, were manhandled by cruel officials, detained in squalid quarters, forced to alter their family names, scorned for their accents and poor clothing, and finally released onto the streets of New York, Boston, Philadelphia or other eastern cities. And there most of them were destined for even more pestilential living conditions, disease, poverty and the lowest labor for people who were at best tolerant and at worst brutal.

For the Irish, this plight was especially affronting inasmuch as they believed they came to a nation where they shared the language with the inhabitants, but those here did not see it that way. Many Irish, fresh from the boats and with a modicum of education and manners, quickly found employment in the households of the well-to-do as maids and servants.

Looking directly into the clear, innocent, emerald eyes of my wonderful 12-year-old son, I told the one lie that no parent can avoid telling their child - or themselves. "Yes, Wolfe Tone, I'll always be here for you," I said with conviction meant to comfort both of us.

And while we both know it is not true, we both want it to be true. We both want it to be true because we love one another so much. We want it to be true because we know that most of his classmates' fathers are 37, not 57. We want it to be true but we also know the unforgiving nature of time.

Time is a cruel and tyrannical concept man has inflicted on himself to measure his life, work and travels. The measurement of time must have initially been a matter of sleeping and waking, of safety and danger, of hunting and crop planting. It has been for much of man's existence a useful tool for regulating survival. Yet, as we have evolved into what I laughingly refer to as "civilized", time has become the master and we the indentured servants.

The summer school season got off to a flying start here in Ireland on the May bank holiday weekend. One of the first events on the calendar is the festival in the small village of Louisburg, in Co. Mayo, which took place during the first weekend in May. The weather was beautiful and street sessions were in full swing.

During the summer, there are festivals throughout the length and breadth of Ireland. This is a really great way to meet the local people in a friendly, informal environment and to have lots of fun. These events, which are all based around traditional Irish music, song and dance, can have different titles, such as "Summer School," "Music Festival," " Dance Festival," "Eigse," or "Aonach." It is common to name the event after a deceased musician or dancer from the area: "Eigse Mrs. Crotty," "Aonach Paddy O'Brien," "Willie Keane Memorial Weekend," "The Willie Clancy Summer School," or "The Joe Mooney Summer School,"...

The true magic of Ireland is its vibrant color and light. While its ground is mostly solid and its landscapes are breathtaking, the natural hues of Ireland radiating from a spectral wealth of moods of light lend an ethereal air to the place and the look of the people. This is a circumstance that lent itself to Irish painters being among the early and most dedicated students of the Impressionist school of painting.

Impressionist painting, which grew up in France and Belgium, came to the fore as the Realism school reached its zenith toward the middle of the 19th century. The limitations of Realism, including an inability to reach beyond the bounds of common vision, had long chafed on artists whose best work could only parody or pay tribute to discoveries of light, color and shadow that had gone before.

Honoring the masters was a noble pursuit that offered no real satisfaction to a painter interested in art as a form of individual self-expression. And while the term Impressionist describes a style in which the artist portrays his or her visual and emotional view of the subject, it might better have been called the Expressionist school for the basic philosophical drive that motivated the movement.

The George's Qual Spirit Store is on the harbor in Dundalk, about half way between Dublin and Belfast. Dundalk gets its name from the Fort of Dealga, a fort associated with the legendary warrior Cuchulainn. Dundalk is built on the plains of Muirhevna, just below the picturesque Cooley Mountains where, legend has it, the Cattle Raid of Cooley took place. The Dundalk area is steeped in ancient history and folklore. It was once surrounded by the furthest outreaches of the Pale, the boundary created by the English to keep the wild Irish at bay. The remains of fortified manor houses and castles are abundant. Edward the Bruce, brother of the Scottish king, briefly reigned as King of Ireland from Dundalk. His grave can be seen in nearby Faughart. Because of its proximity to the border, Dundalk is often overlooked by visitors, but for those wanting to get off the tourist path paved with Irish kitsch, and made-for-tourists pubs, Dundalk is a gook place to look.

The Spirit Store is about as good as a pub gets. The pub itself has been in near continuous operation for 150 years, and is one of Dundalk's oldest pubs. It was re-opened last year by Dundalk locals Mark Mullholland and Mark Deary. The Marks refurbished and expanded the pub, and in doing so have created a local gathering place where people come together for a variety of social reasons. That is, they have re-captured the essence of the traditional Irish pub.

When you visit New York City, stand on any street corner and look up. If you can pull your eyes away from the bizarre and unusual collection of humanity, you will notice that very little sky is visible because the buildings have obscured it from view. Then move your eyes slowly down the facades of two- and three-floor antebellum walk-ups, warehouses, turn-of-the-century industrial buildings, skyscrapers and an assortment of architectural wonders, and finish with a glance down the canyon of concrete. Each building houses a microcosm of the world. One of those buildings is a slender, five-story townhouse facing the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue.

Little announces the presence of the American-Irish Historical Society other than both the American and Irish flags. The turn-of-the-century building looks dwarfed and squeezed into position by the larger, more contemporary structures that border it on either side. Nonetheless, it is sturdy, spacious and elegantly decorated with mementoes gathered since the Society was founded in 1897.

Despite all the glorious, and accurate, portrayals of the Irish as chief contributors to the United States' vast array of cultural, political and business achievements, there has been and is a dark underbelly to the activities of the Irish in this society.

Film and books regarding the depth of Sicilian control of the American underworld notwithstanding, the Irish created much of what is considered organized crime in this country and maintained it until the Mafia flexed its muscle and the Irish moved into politics.

The Irish introduced gang warfare to our culture almost as soon as the revolutionary era came to a close. By the end of the first quarter of the 19th century, street gangs appeared in predominantly Irish neighborhoods of New York's various boroughs. With names such as the Rabbits and the Five Points Boys, these roving bands of hooligans were largely formed as turf guards for businesses, both legal and illegal, that served, or preyed upon, the residents of the neighborhoods that spawned them.