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PHAUDHBIG CBOHOOBE.
"We quote . the following .characteristic • ef
fusion from an old ntimberof the Dublin
Univenity Magazine. A contributor to that
able periodical remarks that the author,
Michael Finiey, " was in hie day perhaps
-the mopt noted [song-maker of his country;
$01 as genius it never withont its eccentricities,
Finiey had his peculiarities, and among
these perhaps the most amusing was his
xooted aversion to pen, ink, and paper, in
•perfect independence: of wliioh all his compositions
were completed. It is impossible
to describe the jealousy with which he regarded
the presence of writing materials of
any kind, and his ever wakeful fears lest
•ome literary pirate should transfer his oral
poetry to paper—fears which were not
altogether without warrant, inasmuch as
the xecitation and singing of these original
pieces were to him a source of wealth and
importance. Finiey Ms now been dead
many years, and his fame has not prospered
by the tactics which he pursued, for his renutation,
so far from being magnified, has
been wholly obliterated by the mists of ob-
Bourity. With no small difficulty and no
inconsiderable manceuvring, I succeeded in
procuring, at an expense of trouble and conscience
which you will no doubt think but
poorly rewarded, an accurate ' report' of one
of his most popular recitations. It celebrates
one of the most daring exploits of the once
amous Phaudhrig Crohoore (in prosaic
nglish, Patrick Connor). I have witnessed
powerful effects produced upon large assemblies
by Finley'g recitation of this poem,
•which he was wont, upon pressing invitation,
to deliver at weddings, wakes, and the like;
of course the power of the narrative was
greatly enhanced by the fact, that many of
his auditors had seen and well knew the
ohief aotors in the drama."
Oh, Phaudhrig Crohoore was the broth of a
boy,
And he stood six feet eight,
And his arm was as round as another man's
thigh;
'Tis Phaudhrig was great—
And his hair was as black as the shadows of
night,
And hung over the scare left by many a
fight;
And his voice, like the thunder, was deep,
ethrong, and loud,
And his eye like the lightnin 1 , from under
the cloud.
And all the girls liked him, for he could
. spake civil
And sweet when he ohose it, for he was the
divil.
An' there wasn't a girl, from thirty-five
undher,
Divil a matter how crass, but he could come
round her.
But of all the sweet gills that smiled on him,
but one
Was the girl of his heart, an' he loved her
alone.
An' warm as the sun, as the rook firm" an'
sure,
Was the love of the heart of Phaudhrig
Crohoore,
An' he'd die for one Bmile from his Kathleen
O'Brien,
For his love, like his hatred, was sthrong as
the lion.
But Michael O'Qanlon loved Kathleen as
well
Aa he hated Crohoore, an' that same was
hell.
But O'Brien liked Aim, for they were the
same parties,
The 'O'Briens, O'Hanlons, an' Murphys, and
Cartys—
An' they all went together, an' hated Crohoore,
For it's many's the batin' he gave them before;
And O'Hanlon made up to O'Brien, an' says
he, *
I'll marry your daughter if you'll give her
to me—
And the match was made up, an' when
Shrovetide came on,
The company assimbled three hundred if
one;
There was all the O'Hanlons. an' Murphys'
an' Cartys,
'
An' the young boys an' girls av all o' them
parties.
Aa* the O'Briens, av coorse, gathered strong
on ttyit day, °
An' the pipers an' fiddlers were tearin*
away.;
There was roarin', an' jumpin'.an' iiecin'
166
an'
flinging
'
An' jokin', an' blessin', an' kissin' an'
Bingin',
An' they wor all. laughin'—why not to be
• sure ?—
How O'Hanlon came inside of Phaudhrie
Crohoore.
An' they all talked, and laughed the length
of the table,
Atin' and dhrinJrin* all the while they were
able,.
And with piping an* fiddlin', an'roarin* like
tundher,
Tour head you'd think fairly was splittin'
asundher;
And the priest called out " Silenoe, ye black-
" . jguardB agin,"
An'fie' topk up his prayer-book, just goin' to
, begin;
An'toy ail held their tongues from their
, :; .funmn'-to' bawlin',
^nt you'd notice the smallest pin
An' the pries t was just beginnin' toread. wfai*
fr r tto"door. r ' , , :
016
^^Vioh^ ^ and w TOlbd
. . . . . . --r »- P'-'ttifT!
Oh I Phaudrigh Croh6ore'wtii Oral
boy," • -
•"•••nSStgttj
An 1 he stood six 4eet eight,'-^i?;- _
An* his arm was as -round &b Wotherioto's
thigh; ,
'TiB Phaudhrig was great-^.
An' he walked slowly up, watched by many a
bright eye,
As a black cloud moves on through the stars
of the sky,
An' none sthrove to stop him, for Phaudhrig
was great,
Till he stood all alone, just apposit the sate
Where O'Hanlon and Kathleen, his beautiful
bride,
Were sitting so illigant out side by side-
Ac' he gave her one look that her heart
almost broke,
An'he turned to O'Brien, her father, and
spoke;
An' his voioe, like the thtmder, was deep,
sthrong, an' loud,
An' his eye shone like lightnin' from undher
the cloud:—;•
I didn't come here like a tame, crawlin'
mouse,
But I stand like a man in my inimy's bouse:
In the field, on the road, Phaudhrig never
' knew fear
Of his foemen, an' God knows he scorns it
here ;
So lave me at aise for three minutes or four,
To spake to the girl I'll never see more."
An' to Kathleen he turned, and his voice
changed its tone,
For he thought of the days when he called
her his own,
An' his eye blazed like lightnin' from undher
tbe cloud,
On his false-hearted girl, reproachful and
proud,
n' says he, " Kathleen bawn, is it thrue
what I hear,
That you marry of your free choice, without
threat or fear ?
If so, spake the word, and I'll turn and
depart,
Chated once, and once only, by woman's false
heart."
Oh! sorrow and love made the poor girl
dumb,
An' she thried hard to spake, but th^ words
wouldn't come,
For the sound of his voice, as he stood there
fornint her,
Wint could on her heart as the night wind in
winther.
An' the tears in her blae eyes stood tremblin'
to flow,
And pale was her cheek as the moonshine on
snow;
Then the heart of bould Phaudhrig swelled
high in its place,
For he knew, by one look in that beautiful
face,
That though strangers an' foemen their
pledged hands might sever,
Her true heart was his, and his only, for ever.
An' he lifted his voice, like the agle's hoarse
call,
An' says Phaudhrig, " She's mine still, in
. spite of ye all I"
hen up jumped O'Hanlon, an' a tall boy
was he,
n' he looked on bould Phaudhrig as fierce
as could be,
n' says he, "By the hokey, before you go
out,
ould Phaudhrig Crohoore, y8u must fight for
a bout."
'
Then Phaudhrig made answer, " I'll do my
endeavour,"
An' with one blow, he stretched bould
O'Hanlon for ever.
In his arms he took Kathleen, and stepped to
the door;
And he leaped on his horse, and flung her
before:
An' they all were so bother'd that notja man
stirred
Till the galloping hoofs on the pavement were
heard,
Then up they all started, like" bees in the
. swarm,
An' they riz a great shout, like the burst of a
storm,
An' they roared, and they tan, and they
shouted galore;
But Kathleen and Phaudhrig they never saw
more.*
But them days are gone by,' Sn' he is no
more;
An* the green grass is growin' o'er Phaudhrig
Crohoore;
For he couldn't be asy or quiet at all;
As he lived a brave boy, he resolvedso to fall.
And he took a good pike—for Phaudhrig was
And he fought, an' he died, in the year ninetyeight.
And the day that,Crohoore in the green field
was killed,
A sthrong boy was stretched, and a sthrong
heart was stilled.
• It is due to 'the memory of Finiey to say that
the foregoing ballad, though bearing throughout
a strong resemblance to Sir Walter Scott't
Loehinvar," was nevertheless composed lone
before that spirited production had seen the light
In a letter from Caprera, Garibaldi says -
—"In our quarrel with France, we are
standing on a volcano, and I dare not risk
my foot in it. Tou speak of priests! Yesi
before engaging in the straggle, we must
exterminate the priesthopd,' or we are lost."
.The Cork Examinar^aye:—•'"The limerick
Harbour Commissioners have been informed
by the Adrhiralty that their memorial praying
that the portion of the river Shannon
which lies between Beagh Caatle ami Limerick
may be ieurveyed, as the, navigation hag
survey.ihaebeen nptic^/fiitteri^"-- 1 —
a favourable "opportiamty oocura.'"*'
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