A DIGRESSION--T.D. SULLIVAN--A NATIONAL ANTHEM--THE EMERALD
MINSTRELS--"THE SPIRIT OF THE NATION."
If it were for nothing else, it will be sufficient fame for T.D.
Sullivan for all time that he is the author of "God Save Ireland." He
had no idea himself, as he used to tell me, that the anthem would have
been taken up so instantaneously and enthusiastically as it was.
A National Anthem can never be made to order. It must grow spontaneously
out of some stirring incident of the hour. Never in those days were our
people so deeply moved as by the Manchester Martyrdom. There is no
grander episode in all Irish history. The song of "God Save Ireland,"
embodying the cry raised by Edward O'Meagher Condon, and taken up by his
doomed companions in the dock, so expressed the feelings of all hearts
that it was at once accepted by Irishmen the world over as the National
Anthem.
I sympathise with the ground taken up by our friends of the Gaelic
League that a National Anthem should be in the national tongue. That
objection has to some extent been met by the very fine translation of
"God Save Ireland" into Gaelic by Daniel Lynch. This appeared in one of
my publications, and is the version now frequently sung at Irish
patriotic gatherings.
With regard to the objection that the air--"Tramp, tramp, the boys are
marching"--to which T.D. wrote the song is of American origin, I was
under the impression that Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore, the famous
Irish-American bandmaster, was the composer of it, and that, therefore,
we could claim the air of "God Save Ireland" as being Irish as well as
the words. To place the matter beyond doubt, Gilmore himself being dead,
I wrote to his daughter, Mary Sarsfield Gilmore, a distinguished
poetical contributor to the "Irish World," to ascertain the facts. I got
from her a most interesting reply, in which she said, "I am more than
sorry to disappoint you by my answer, but my father was _not_ the
composer of the air you mention."
I have heard it suggested that McCann's famous war song "O'Donnell
Aboo!" should be adopted as our National Anthem instead of "God Save
Ireland," and I have heard of it being given as a _finale_ at Gaelic
League concerts.
Without doubt it is a fine song, and the air to which it is generally
sung is a noble one. A distinguished Irish poet tells me he is of
opinion that "what will be universally taken up as the Irish National
Anthem has never yet been written." My friend may be right, but let us
see what claim "O'Donnell Aboo!'"--song or air--has upon us for adoption
as our National Anthem.
To do this I must go back in my narrative to the time when I made the
acquaintance of Mr. Michael Joseph McCann, its author. This was a few
years before "God Save Ireland" was written, and over twenty years after
"O'Donnell Aboo!" appeared in the "Nation."
A party of young Irishmen from Liverpool engaged the Rotunda, Dublin,
for a week. They called themselves the "Emerald Minstrels," and gave an
entertainment--"Terence's Fireside; or the Irish Peasant at Home." I was
one of the minstrels. The entertainment consisted of Irish national
songs and harmonized choruses, interspersed with stories such as might
be told around an Irish fireside. There was a sketch at the finish,
winding up with a jig.
At my suggestion, one of the pieces in our programme was "O'Donnell
Aboo!" which first appeared in the "Nation" of January 28th, 1843, under
the title of "The Clan-Connell War Song--A.D. 1597," the air to which it
was to be sung being given as "Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu," This was the
name of the boat song commencing "Hail to the Chief," from Sir Walter
Scott's poem of "The Lady of the Lake." This was published in 1810, and
set to music for three voices soon afterwards by Count Joseph Mazzinghi,
a distinguished composer of Italian extraction, born in London.
As "Roderigh Vich Alpine" was the air given by Mr. McCann himself as
that to which his song was to be sung, we, of course, used Mazzinghi's
music in our entertainment.
One night--I think it was our first--at the close of our entertainment
in Dublin, a gentleman came behind to see us. It was Mr. McCann. He was
pleased, he said, we were singing his song, but would like us to use an
air to which it was being sung in Ireland, and which _he had put to it
himself_. He also told us he had made some alterations in the _words_ of
the song, and was good enough to write into my "Spirit of the Nation"
the changes he had made. This copy is the original folio edition, with
music, published in 1845. It was presented to me by the members of St.
Nicholas's Boys' Guild, Liverpool. I have that book still, and value it
all the more as containing the handwriting of the distinguished poet. (I
should say, however, that most of my friends do not consider the
alterations in the song to be improvements.)
The measure and style of "O'Donnell Aboo!" were evidently imitated from
Sir Walter Scott's boat song. Besides this strong resemblance, there is
the fact that Mr. McCann gave as the air to which his song was to be
sung, "Roderigh Vich Alpine," part of the burden of Sir Walter's song.
But not only is there a resemblance in the words and general style, but
in the music. Indeed, it seems to me that most of the fine air of
"O'Donnell Aboo!" as it is now sung is based on Mazzinghi's
music--either that for the first, second, or bass voice, or upon the
concerted part for the three voices at the end of each verse.
Another fact is worthy of mention. Since meeting Mr. McCann I have often
noticed in Irish papers that when the air, as adapted by him, was played
at national gatherings, it was often given by the name of Scott's song
and Mazzinghi's composition. And when Mr. Parnell was in the height of
his popularity and attended demonstrations in Ireland, the air used to
be played as being applicable to the Irish leader, and given in some
papers as "Hail to the Chief," while others described the same air as
"O'Donnell Aboo!"
But if we cannot claim as an original Irish air McCann's song as it is
now sung, the same critical examination which brings out its resemblance
to Mazzinghi's music, also shows that the Italian composer most probably
got his inspiration from the music of the Irish or Scottish Gaels, as
being most suitable for his theme. So that, perhaps, we may take the
same pride in the present air as our island mother might in some of her
children who had been on the _shaughraun_ for a time, but had again come
back to the "old sod."
It may be that even before the era of Irish independence some inspired
poet may write, to some old or new Irish melody, a song which, by its
transcendent merits, may spring at once into the first place. But until
that happens, or till "we've made our isle a nation free and grand" I
think we may very well rest content with "God Save Ireland."
It has been suggested to me that it might form an interesting portion of
these recollections if I were to give some account of how we came to
start the "Emerald Minstrels," and what we did while that company was in
existence. I may say without hesitation that we got our inspiration from
the teaching of Young Ireland and the "Spirit of the Nation." We called
our entertainment "Terence's Fireside; or The Irish Peasant at Home."
We had most of us been boys in the old Copperas Hill school, then in the
Young Men's Guild connected with the church, and some of us members of
the choir. At the Guild meetings on Sunday nights, the chaplain, Father
Nugent, an Irishman, but, like most of ourselves, born out of his own
country, used to delight in teaching us elocution, and encouraging us to
write essays, besides putting other means of culture in our way.
After a time he founded an educational establishment, the Catholic
Institute, where, when he left Copperas Hill, many of us followed him
and joined the evening classes. About this good priest I shall have more
to say in this narrative, and, though he was no politician, I don't
think any man ever did so much to elevate the condition of the Irish
people of his native town, and make them both respectable--in the best
sense--and respected, as Father Nugent.
We started the "Emerald Minstrels" at a time when there was a lull in
Irish politics; our objects being the cultivation of Irish music, poetry
and the drama; Irish literature generally, Irish pastimes and customs;
and, above all, Irish Nationality.
Father Nugent's training from the time we were young boys had been
invaluable. We numbered ten, the most brilliant member of our body, and
the one who did most in organising our entertainments, being John
Francis McArdle. Besides our main objects, already stated, we considered
we were doing good work by elevating the tastes of our people, who had,
through sheer good nature, so long tolerated an objectionable class of
so-called Irish songs, as well as the still more objectionable "Stage
Irishman."
Some items from the programme will give an idea of our entertainment. We
opened with a prologue, originally written by myself, but re-cast and
very much improved by John McArdle. I may say that we two often did a
considerable amount of journalistic work in that way in after years. I
can just remember a little of the prologue. These were the opening
lines:--
Sons of green Erin, we greet you this night!
And you, too, her daughters--how welcome the sight!
We come here before you, a minstrel band,
To carol the lays of our native land.
There was one particularly daring couplet in it, the contribution of
John McArdle:--
In your own Irish way give us one hearty cheer.
Just to show us at once that you welcome us here.
Had mine been the task to speak these lines, I must inevitably have
failed to get the required response, but in the mouth of the regular
reciter they never once missed fire. This was Mr. Barry Aylmer. He
afterwards adopted the stage as a profession, and became recognised as a
very fine actor, chiefly in Irish parts, as might be expected. He also
travelled with a very successful entertainment of his own, and it is but
a short time since he informed me that he spoke our identical "Emerald
Minstrel" prologue in New York and other cities in America, adapting it,
of course, to the circumstances of the occasion. I found that during the
many years which had elapsed since I had previously seen him until I met
him again quite recently he had been a great traveller, not only in this
country and America, but also in South Africa and Australia.
We had a number of harmonized choruses, including several of Moore's
melodies, Banim's "Soggarth Aroon," "Native Music," by Lover; McCann's
"O'Donnell Aboo!" and others. "Killarney," words by Falconer, music by
Balfe, was sung by James McArdle, who had a fine tenor voice. Richard
Campbell was our principal humorous singer. He used chiefly to give
selections from Lover's songs, and one song written for him by John
McArdle, "Pat Delany's Christenin'."
John had an instinctive grasp of stage effect. A hint of the
possibilities of an idea was enough for him. On my return from the
Curragh I told him of how I had heard the militia men and soldiers
singing the "Shan Van Vocht" on the road. He decided that this should be
our _finale_, the climax of the first part of our minstrel
entertainment.
We had a drop scene representing the Lower Lake of Killarney. When it
was raised it disclosed the interior of the living room of a comfortable
Irish homestead, with the large projecting open chimney, the turf fire
on the hearth, and the usual pious and patriotic pictures proper to such
an interior--Terence's Fireside.
Ours was a very self-contained company. Each had some special line as
singer, musician, elocutionist, story teller or dancer.
John Clarke was our chief actor. He excelled in "character parts," and,
when well "made up" as an old man made a capital "Terence" in the first
part of the entertainment, besides giving a fine rendering of Lefanu's
"Shemus O'Brien" between the parts.
In the miscellaneous part there was a rattling Irish jig by Joseph Ward
and Barry Aylmer. The latter, being of somewhat slight figure and a
good-looking youth, made a bouncing Irish colleen. These two made a
point of studying from nature, not only in their dancing, but in their
acting and singing, so that their performances were always true to life,
without an atom of exaggeration. They were always received with great
enthusiasm, particularly by the old people, who seemed transported back,
as by the touch of a magic wand, to the scenes of their youth.
We finished the evening with a sketch, written by John McArdle, called
"Phil Foley's Frolics"--he was fond of alliteration. Noticing that
Joseph Ward had made a special study of the comfortable old Irish
_vanithee_, and had many of her quaint and humorous sayings, he added to
the characters a special part for him--"Mrs. Casey,"--to which he did
full justice. Indeed, so incessant was the laughter that followed each
sally, that he and Barry Aylmer, who was the Phil Foley, sometimes found
it difficult to get the words of the dialogue in between. We had
another sketch, "Pat Houlahan's Ghost," which used to go very well.
The first part of the entertainment, showing old Terence in the chimney
corner and the others singing songs and telling stories, almost
necessitated our sitting around in a semi-circular formation. This gave
us much the appearance of a nigger troupe. To depart from this somewhat,
we occasionally introduced a trifling plot. We made it that one of the
sons of the house entered while the family were engaged in their usual
avocations, having unexpectedly returned from America. Then came the
affectionate family greeting, and the bringing in of the friends and
neighbours, who formed a group sitting around the turf fire, making a
merry night of it.
The services of the "Emerald Minstrels" were in great demand, and were
always cheerfully given for Catholic, National and charitable objects.
While our own people mostly furnished our audiences, our entertainment
was appreciated by the general public. The best proof of this was that
Mr. Calderwood, Secretary of the Concert Hall, Lord Nelson Street, gave
us several engagements for the "Saturday Evening Concerts," in which,
from time to time, Samuel Lover, Henry Russell, The English Glee and
Madrigal Union, and other well-known popular entertainers, appeared. Mr.
Calderwood told us he was well pleased to have in the town a company
like ours, upon whom he could always rely for a successful
entertainment.