Conference tallis::celt

    Toby,
    
    I work with a bloke here in Dublin who could devote many disk farms to
    his memories of great events. Dermot O'Sullivan is the man. He
    remembers Sarsfield and the Siege of Limerick as if they were
    yesterday. An amazing man is our Dermot :-).
    
    - Joe
    
    P.S. It is a very good idea. 

    
    Clare		Munster Final			1949

    My father is related to S�an Tracy and Dan Breen, those men who started
    the War of Independence. When I was a kid, I used to love to visit and
    old aunt of my fathers in Cashel and listen to the stories about the
    War of Independence and how they hid the flying columns.
    
    I have to go to a weeding now, will add a few others shortly. At long
    last some decent topic, I love memories.
    
    Ren�

    
    I remember a story my mother told me about the "Troubles" - she
    was a young girl at the time. Sinn Fein were running a court
    system in 1919-20 in opposition to the "official" one. In
    Moate (near where she lived) some travelling people were waiting
    for their "trial" when they were joined by another individual
    in fairly untidy dress.
    
    "What're you up for?" was the question they put to the newcomer.
    
    "Blast ye, I'm the judge!" was the reply.
    
    My mother also saw a bit of aviation history because she saw one
    of the great German airships (either the "Graf Zepellin" or the
    "Hindenburg") pass over London when she was there in the '30s.
    At that time she also saw the Jarrow Hunger Marchers arrive
    in London. These were out of work miners from Tyneside who
    marched to London during the Depression in protest at the
    lack of work and assistance. No doubt my mother had seen
    poverty in Ireland, but she said that she was shocked at
    the ragged and impoverished condition of the men.
    
    I really regret that I never sat sat down with a tape recorder
    and recorded both my parents. If anyone has parents with an
    interesting fund of stories, it is really worth the time.
    
    Toby

    
    Pity not to have more remininiscences, however ...
    
    My father did see a very unusual sight, the British fleet steaming
    up Kilary Harbour sometime around 1909 or 1910. Kilary is a fjord
    on the west coast of Ireland, one of the few that could take the
    battleships of the Royal Navy. The occasion was a visit by
    King Edward VII to his Irish subjects, as they were then.
    My dad told me the sight of the battleships manoeuvering in
    such a narrow space was the most impressive he had ever seen. 
    
    Britain's Dreadnought class of battleship was the most advanced
    in the world - the modern equivalent I suppose would be an
    overflight of Stealth bombers. Though my father and most of
    the watchers were confirmed Irish nationalists, Home Rulers or
    Sinn Feiners, they had a grudging respect for British power
    that day. Perhaps that was the intention of the whole 
    exercise - to impress Ireland with Britain's power.
    
    Toby

    
    Both my parents were mature enough to remember the Troubles,
    and both had direct memories of the "Tans".
    
    In Clifden, they shot an innocent man on the street, plundered
    shops and pubs, and set several houses on fire, including that
    of my uncle. On my mother's side, her uncle was in the IRA
    and spent that time "on the run". A cousin (a World War I 
    veteran) had a unique brush with the Tans: seeing that he
    was something of a local hero, a Tan sergeant decided 
    to "sort him out" and loudly proclaimed his intention
    to all and sundry. So my relative approached him on the
    street one day and said: "I'm XXXXXXX, are you looking
    for me?" Like the coward he was, the Tan backed down.
    
    What was odd about this was that neither of my parents
    harboured much bitterness towards the British. It
    was as if the Tans had passed over the country like
    a storm or a disease, deadly but only lasting for a
    while. No, the real bitterness was reserved for the
    Irish, by which I mean the "other side" in the Irish Civil
    War of 1921-22.
    
    Both my parents were proud Free Staters and to them the
    "Irregulars" and later Fianna Fail were anathema. The
    same was true for many on the other side. Even down to
    the 1960s, insults about the Civil War were freely
    exchanged on public bodies [I hasten to add that both my 
    parents possessed too much decorum to indulge in public
    mudslinging - but they did express strong feelings in 
    private!] Perhaps it was the constant electoral battles
    that made the bitterness last, I and others in my
    generation have never understood it.
    
    One theory is that the Irish NEEDED something to quarrel
    over, if the Civil War hadn't happened over the Treaty
    another excuse would have been invented. Didn't Brendan
    Behan say that the first item on the agenda of any new
    Irish society is always "The Split"? 
    
    Professor Joseph Lee recently made a comparison with
    Finland, another newly independent state in the post-1918
    period. Finland had a savage Civil War in the 1918-1919
    timeframe, which led to about 18000 deaths (dwarfing
    the Irish Civil War). Yet by 1938, the old opponents
    were ready to come together in a coalition government.
    Even today, the Irish parties that grew out of the Civil
    War are not fully ready to coalesce, even though they
    pursue identical policies.
    
    The lesson also is that in economic terms, even after
    being defeated in World War II by the USSR, and being
    as remote from the European heartland as Ireland is, with a
    far worse climate, the Finns have put together a far more 
    successful state than Ireland. 
    
    Theories as to why? Its all there somewhere in the way my
    parents cared more about whether De Valera won the election
    than about the economic conditions that were forcing
    tens of thousands into emigration. And my parents could
    be multiplied by a large factor to get the prevailing
    attitudes in the political spectrum.
    
    Toby

    My grandfather and his five brothers from Minane Bridge in Co. Cork
    were all members of the old IRA. Apparently the battalion he was with
    was ambushed by the B&T's - everyone was lined up against the wall to 
    be shot. Then a message came that the city of Cork was burning down.
    The B&T's were so shocked that the IRA managed to get away!
    
    I don't know how true the story is but the family love telling the
    tale. 

    My grandfather was a member of a flying column in Mayo and took part in
    an ambush on the RIC (Royal Irish Constabulary) in Tourmakeady (sp?).
    My father tells the story second hand so I don't quite know how
    accurate it is.
    
    The site selected for the ambush was a steep hill on the road. There
    were to be two lorries carrying arms and guarded by the RIC (I think).
    The guy with the best shot was selected to shoot the driver of the
    leading lorry when it appeared at the top of the hill. The lorry was
    intended to roll down to the bottom of the hill where half the
    volunteers were to shoot everyone in that lorry. The second lorry was
    to be ambushed at the top of the hill by the remaining volunteers and
    no one was to get out alive. 
    
    What happened was something quite different. The "marksman" hit the
    radiator of the first lorry and it stalled at the top of the hill.
    Those at the top handled everyone in the leading lorry, but the
    guys in the following lorry were alerted and got away. They immediately
    alerted the troops in the town and the flying column were surrounded.
    Now the story is that the guy in charge of the volunteers was killed,
    the second in command was wounded leaving Pat Fallon (my grandfather)
    in charge. They really had no chance of escape until the fog appeared
    from the mountains allowing them to leave under its cover. At least
    that's how my father tells it.
    
    Now my grandfather was fiercely anti-treaty but took no part in the
    civil war (I believe it was well under way by the time he was released
    from prison in England for his part in the war of Independence), but he
    was a Fianna Fail supporter later. Since he had not taken part in the
    civil war he was on talking terms with both sides in the thirties. So
    when election time came around, both Fianna Fail and Fine Gael would
    produce a roster of the churches they wanted to hold rallies outside in
    the weeks running up to the election. He would then jiggle around the
    timetables so that they would never clash (because inevitably there
    would be a fight if they did), and hand them back to them modified. 
    
    
    			Daith� Fallon
    

    
    As an anecdote about the Irish in America...
    
    My maternal grandfather landed in Boston from Co. Leitrim around
    1902, married in 1910, and lived in the Back Bay section of the
    city working as an elevator operator in a posh building that
    housed the offices of numerous doctors, lawyers, etc, etc.  
    A job that surely had its ups and downs. 
    
    Anyway, being a country fellow, suspicious of large institutions,
    he never trusted banks and literally stuffed whatever money he 
    saved in the mattress he slept on.  
    
    Ah well, along comes 1929 and the Stock Market crash and the bank
    closings.  All those doctors and lawyers are suddenly left almost
    penniless, unable to pay the rent on their office spaces, etc,
    which really didn't matter because they weren't evicted due to
    the fact that the landlord was destitute as well and relied on
    whatever rents did come in.  
    
    So everybody was flat broke...except me grandfather.  Open rips he
    the mattress  :)  and buys that building, complete with elevator.
    All of a sudden, those doctors and lawyers are paying rent to the 
    HIM and in fact some borrowed quite a bit of money from him, at
    nominal interest of course, enough to buy two houses in the Hillside
    section of Medford, whence he moved around 1935.
    
    

    None of my generation has any memory of my great-grandfather, Michael
    Lane, who came to Arlington, Massachusetts from Innishannon, Co. Cork. 
    We are fortunate, however, that he was a noted citizen in the
    community, providing a reader of old newspapers with a wealth of
    detail.  Here's some of what I've gleaned so far from the public
    record.

                The new chief-of-police, accompanied by Officers
                Shean and Barry and Special Officer Johnson, paid
                his respects to Mr. Geo. Russell, proprietor of
                Russell's Tavern on Saturday evening. They visited
                his place about eight o'clock with a search war-
                rant in their hands and made an inspection of the
                premises in quest of "the ardent." They were suc-
                cessful in finding liquor to the extent of a pint
                or two. . . . On the same day several other places on
                "The Acre" were visited, including Michael Lane's,
                where a pint of questionable liquor was found.

                -Middlesex Townsman, 19 January 1884

                Tuesday evening chief Mead and his assistants made
                another descent on Michael Lane's groggery, and this
                time were highly successful, capturing a quantity of
                whiskey and a lot of porter in bottles.

                -Arlington Advocate, 14 March 1884

                The "highly successful raid" on Michael Lane's
                "groggery," as our esteemed contemporary [Arling-
                ton Advocate] was pleased to put it, wasn't quite
                so successful after all in the eyes of the law and
                Judge Orcutt. A "quantity" of whiskey appears to
                have been a quart, and a "lot" of porter scarcely
                as much. At any rate there was no evidence of sale
                and no more cause for the arrest of Lane than for
                the arrest of hundreds of other men in town who keep
                liquor in their houses for their own use. Lane's
                trial took place Monday, Lawyer Tuttle appearing
                as his counsel; there was no counsel for the pros-
                ecution. Judge Orcutt found no case and discharged
                Lane.

                -Middlesex Townsman, 22 March 1884

                Michael Lane paid $3 and costs in court this week
                for assault and battery. His wife was arrested for
                rum selling, but although a credible witness testi-
                fied to repeated purchases, Judge Orcutt discharged
                her because she and her husband swore that they
                had not sold any. We wonder that there are not more
                punishments for contempt of court.

                -Arlington Advocate, 25 April 1884

                The police news of the week is Robert McDonald fined
                $10 and costs for an assault on John Maloney of
                Lexington; Michael Lane fined $10 and costs (and
                bonds of $100 to keep peace) for assault on his
                wife. Michael is now boarding with Capt. Fiske, at
                East Cambridge [Jail].

                -Arlington Advocate, 20 June 1884

                Michael Lane was fined $10 and costs in court this
                week, for disturbing the peace.

                -Arlington Advocate, 16 October 1885

                Michael Lane went to Cambridge on Monday, charged
                with disturbing the peace the day previous. He
                was fined $3 and costs, in default of which he was
                committed to the House of Correction.

                -Arlington Advocate, 23 April 1886

                Michael Lane and Martin Hines, complained of for
                disturbing the peace, had their cases continued
                until next Monday.

                -Arlington Advocate, 10 September 1886

                Michael Lane and Daniel [sic] Hines were before the
                court for sentence this week and were fined $12 and
                costs each. The latter paid and the former went to
                jail in default of bonds to prosecute his appeal.

                -Arlington Advocate, 17 September 1886

                A correspondent wants "the policemen to call around
                on Sunday, on North Union and Decatur streets and
                shut up those two rum holes for one Sunday at least
                and stop so much fighting and drinking as we have
                here. We never have a policeman around when the
                fighting is going on. I wish the selectmen would
                have them do their duty in those two cases and let
                us have one Sunday in peace."

                 . . .

                Michael Lane got sick of being in jail and on Tues-
                day last appeared in court with a request to be
                allowed to withdraw his appeal and take sentence,
                but the judge would not grant his request, so he
                will have to wait until the November session of the
                court.

                -Arlington Advocate, 24 September 1886

    
    My sister is the one in our family who has searched the archives,
    and has come up with some examples of Joyce hospitality in years 
    gone by: 
    
    Two English travellers were entertained by the head of the Joyce
    clan by the banks of Lough Corrib in the 1750s. They feasted well
    and an enormous punch bowl was produced, from which everyone
    supped and got very drunk. To the amazement of the travellers,
    the same punchbowl was refilled the next morning, and the day
    was spent in more revelry. A pretty girl sang some Irish
    songs, and the travellers were told they could enjoy "her
    favours" above the waist only - liberties below the waist
    were not to be tolerated. Realising that their host had 
    similar plans for the following day, the guests rose 
    early and made their escape by boat. Mr Joyce appeared just
    as the boat was putting out into Lough Corrib, and roundly
    abused the travellers as "milksops" for not having the stamina
    for another day of his hospitality.
    
    A second traveller encountered the clan "chief" in Leenane in
    the 1830s - he recorded that Mr Joyce had to be approached "in
    the manner of a Polynesian chieftain" and that one had to begin
    by expressing regret that the Joyce family had fallen from the
    high station it once held. This gentleman was taken in and
    entertained by Joyce, however it can't been that comfortable
    as he (perhaps unfairly) compared it with some of the inns he 
    had boarded in on his tour. 
    
    Toby

    
    More highways and byways of family reminiscence ...
    
    My mother's uncle served in the British Army in World War I,
    came home and joined the IRA. Given that he better training
    and experience than anyone else, he became second-in-command
    of the IRA in the Longford-Westmeath area, his boss being
    Sean McKeown, the famous "Blacksmith of Ballinalee". 
    
    After the Treaty, he followed Collins (like McKeown) and 
    according to my mother led the Irish National Army troops
    that took over Athlone Barracks (now Custume Barracks)
    from the British. Later he became a Free State senator.
    
    My father sometimes visited Athlone on business, and
    on one occasion had this man pointed out as "the fellow
    who taught Sean McKeown everything". He didn't realise 
    that later he was going to marry the man's niece.
    
    One story my mother told was about her uncle's
    service with the Irish Division in the Suvla Bay landings
    during the Gallipoli campaign (1915). Home on leave, he was pressed 
    to come to a dance in aid of recruitment, to which he grudgingly 
    assented. Probably disillusion with the war was setting in but 
    hadn't hardened. Later he was again pressed to give a speech 
    about his experiences, but resisted as long as he could. Finally, 
    heartily sick and annoyed at the whole proceedings, he announced:
    
    
    
    "It's simple - we went into Suvla Bay, and the Turks 
     bet us to hell out of it again!"