THE KILLARNEY FOLK
The people who dwell on the shores of these lovely lakes are a
handsome race, tall and finely formed, with clear-cut features and
dark and most expressive eyes, often of the Irish grey or deep violet,
with long black lashes. Pencilled eyebrows and abundance of dark-brown
hair usually accompany these, and that clear complexion which the
moist western breezes confer. They love music and dancing, the "boys
and girls," who, meeting on a roadside, only require a merry tune to
"foot it away" and forget their cares.
But with all their lightheartedness their standard of duty is very
high, and family ties are sacred. Seldom, if ever, is infidelity known
among the married, and a certain honour is given to the head of the
poorest household. Husband and wife each has a distinct place, which
neither would dream of usurping, the husband having the chief, of
course. In one case, however, and that a very important one to an
Irishman, right of precedence is universally granted to the wife. This
is when it happens that she is by birth of a superior tribe to her
husband. "I am a MacCarthy; my husband is only a so-and-so," she will
say proudly.
There are many "shealings" around and on the sides of the mountains,
where the "mountainy men," as they are called, cultivate patches of
land with a success due to their patient industry. They have hens, a
few goats, and perhaps some lean mountain sheep, and all these are
liable to visitations from the eagles when rearing their young. Often,
too, they have one or two cows of the Kerry breed, which find sweet
pickings among the rocks, and give more milk on the scant herbage than
the sleek and well-favoured kine of richer counties. This breed is
small, with long horns and wild, handsome heads.
Simple-hearted, generous and faithful are these men and women, with a
dignified courtesy of manner which tells of the Eastern strain in
their blood. Their courtesy and good manners are, indeed, very
charming. For instance, you may have been out all day with a man, and
when you reach his home he will step in first, and, turning, offer you
his hand and bid you welcome, as though it were the first time he had
met you that day. He welcomes you, and then you will be placed in the
seat of honour, and refreshments brought you, the refusal of which
would be an insult.
The love of classical learning among the peasantry was great. It
continues still, though the classics are not cultivated in this
practical age as in the days when they were taught by travelling
scholars at the hedge schools. All the old writers on Killarney
mention their wonder at meeting poorly-clad men and boys able to
converse fluently in Latin, and studying the best Latin, and even
Greek, authors. The power of reading Homer in the original was greatly
coveted, and often attained. The magic of their surroundings may have
had much to do with kindling the peasant's imagination to passionate
interest in a dead language.
The first distinct mention of the sea-coast adjoining Killarney occurs
in the works of Ptolemy, who wrote in the second century. He speaks
of the river of Kenmare under the title of Iernus, while again it is
called Fluctus Desmonda, or the River of Desmond. At this Iernus of
Ptolemy is placed by ancient authors the landing of several Milesian
colonists, and though Irish history before the Christian era is
chiefly traditional, there seems some foundation for this.
If we believe the bards and seers, the Milesian immigration was the
fifth which came to colonize Hibernia out of the overflowing tribes of
Asia. Of the fourth, the Tuatha de Danans, they tell a curious tale.
These colonizers are depicted as accomplished sooth-sayers and
necromancers who came out of Greece. They could quell storms, cure
diseases, work in metals, foretell future events, and, by their
supernatural powers as well as by virtue of the Lia Fail, or Stone of
Destiny, they subdued the Firbolgs, who had preceded them, and
exercised sovereignty, till they in turn were displaced by the Gaelic
or fifth immigration.
Sometimes these called themselves Gael, from an ancestor; sometimes
Milesians, from Milesius, projector of the immigration; sometimes
Scota, from his wife. They came from Spain, and all their magical arts
did not save the Tuatha from defeat. "In vain they surrounded
themselves and their coveted island with magic-made tempest and
terrors; in vain they reduced it in size so as to be almost invisible
from sea. Amergin, one of the sons of Milesius, was a Druid skilled in
all the arts of the East, and, led by him, his brothers countermined
the magicians and beat them with their own weapons."
Among the mountains of South Kerry the peasants point out a stone
where Queen Scota, daughter of Pharaoh of Egypt, and wife of Milesius
of Spain, is believed to lie buried. She was killed in battle three
days after landing with her sons on this coast. Upon the flat of the
stone is an Ogham inscription, which reads, "Leacht Scoihin" ("The
grave mound of Scota"). Ogham experts think this inscription a
forgery, but the old tradition makes it at least probable that within
sound of the thunder of the Atlantic, far from her own people, lies
the daughter of the Pharaohs.
From an antiquarian point of view Kerry is one of the most interesting
places in the British Isles, and very rich in relics of the past. An
archæological society has been formed, which is endeavouring to rescue
the relics and monuments from neglect and decay. Killarney has been
found a singularly promising field to explore, though much has
perished.
The Celtic nature is curiously complex, and those who do not
themselves possess it find it hard to understand. It has one quality
in which no other race has ever equalled it, and that is a marvellous
power of absorbing alien nationalities to itself, so that, while
conquered, it yet conquers. It is a matter of current knowledge that
the English became more Irish than the Irish themselves. They
intermarried with the families of native chiefs, gave their children
to be nursed by Irish foster-mothers, spoke the Irish tongue, espoused
the Irish interests. Had this power of amalgamation been encouraged,
and not sternly repressed by the English Government, there was a
period when it might have changed completely the destiny of Ireland;
but it was not to be.
There is an interesting poem by an Irishman, "The Geraldines," from
which I quote one verse:
"These Geraldines! these Geraldines! not long our air they breathed,
Not long they fed on venison in Irish water seethed,
Not often had their children been by Irish mothers nursed,
When from their full and genial hearts an Irish feeling burst.
The English monarchs strove in vain, by law, and force, and bribe,
To win from Irish thoughts and ways this more than Irish tribe;
For still they cling to fosterage, to _breitheamh_, cloak, and bard;
What King dare say to Geraldine, 'Your Irish wife discard'?"