Children of the Night

I've been trying to teach children all my life and have enjoyed the experience-by and large. I have to say that the vast majority of them were really top class humans but there was the odd son of a gun along the way. Many of the"son-of-a-gun" fraternity were just poor little devils who had been neglected,physically or emotionally in their youth and never really had a chance in life.
Before the days of "political correctness" an old teacher said,referring to one of these types "His GRANDPARENTS should never have met"

The song "Children of the Night" was written with a particular child in mind but it applies to a whole host of other unfortunates who were bedevilled by bad parenting and faulty DNA.
God protect us all from adversity.

I think the phrase "Children of the Night" was in Dracula or some such story.
The song is on our(Fartulla) best-selling C.D."Life Lines" and is freely(almost) available on Google Play.
Have at it


Children of the Night


Waves rippled through the corn, on the instant he was born
And blinding, blaring, rainsqualls lashed the night
The rivers all ran deep,made the footless boulders leap
And lightning lit the rocks with ribs of light

Chorus

The children of the night are hid
By day in silent places
Alert and ever watchful
With mute averted faces
Through the streets a shadow creeping,
A dark cloud hovers near
It is fear,my night time children,it is fear


His mother's screams of pain echoed in his infant brain
And hate filled up his childs world from the start
All through those early years he remembers only tears
And lying alone for long hours in the dark


His teachers tried to compensate,but by now it was too late
By the age of twelve he was vulgar and obscene
Shoplifting,robbing cars,drinking cider sneaked from bars
Trying to show his buddies he was mean


He finally ran away from home and started out alone
To the city to find others of his kind
Joined the Children of the Night, all of boyhood dreams took flight
An empty shell is all thats left behind.

Introduction to the Old Folker

I'm Tony Holleran. I've been involved in the music scene in the Midlands of Ireland for the past 40 years. The idea of the Blog is to share musical memories, stories and songs.
I was born near Clonbur Co.Galway,but have spent my whole life living in Co.Offaly,where I've been involved in musical activities non stop right up to the present moment.Dominic Madden and myself have played under the name "Fartulla" for the past twenty-five years but nowadays we confine ourselves to Monday night in the Brewery Tap ,Tullamore and occasional nights with friends.We have recorded a few songs and they are available on Google Play.

Valentine O'Hara

Tom Madden,a native of Tullamore,spent most of his life singing and playing guitar and 5-string banjo in the folk clubs of England and America.Tom,a fine singer and musician,was the envy of all the nine-to-five "would be" folkers around the Tullamore area. His trips home were awaited with great anticipation-he always came up with a few gems.He was our main source of new songs.

In October of 1975 tom came on a visit. There was a session of music in Joe Lee's Lounge and as usual Tom delivered the goods.He sang "Alan Tyne o' Harrow". It was a smasher and before the week was out Iwas singing it with great enthusiasm.
At that time James and Liz McCardle,used to spend time in various libraries seeking out tunes and songs. James came across three or four songs about Valentine O'Hara and sent me a copy of this Irish version which he figured was probably the original.I've sung the song as Valentine O'Hara ever since.
Steve Turner sang Valentine on his excellent L.P. "Out Stack"and in the liner notes he says the song was known as Alan Tyne of Yarrow or Harrow but he said the Joyce collection had two song about the bold Val.

Tom Madden still sings the original version and has lately recorded it on a new C.D. called "Ship to Shore".
After the death of Frank Harte there was a T.V. snip of him sitting under a canal bridge singing "Valentine"


Valentine O'Hara


I am a gallant highwayman called Valentine O'Hara
I come of poor but honest folk nigh to the Hill of Tara
For getting a maid with child for England I sailed over
I left my parents and became a wild and daring rover

Straight to London I did sail where I became a soldier
Resolved to fight Brittania's foes,not Hector great was bolder
They sent me to a foreign land where cannons loud did rattle
And believe me boys I do not boast how I behaved in battle


Many's the battle I've been in ,in Holland and French Flanders
I always fought with a courage keen ,led on by brave commanders
Then a cruel ensign caught me out and I was flogged and carted
Cruel the usage they gave me and so I soon deserted


Straight for England I did sail as fast as winds could heave me
Resolved that of my liberty there could no man deprive me
I slept in the fields at night ,by all my friends forsaken
I couldn't walk the roads by day in case I might be taken


But I being of a courage keen and likewise able-bodied
I robbed Lord Lowens on the King's highway with my pistols heavy loaded
I slapped my pistols to his breast which made his heart a-quiver
Five hundred pounds in ready gold he did to me deliver


With part of my new store of gold I bought a famous gelding
That could leap over a five bar gate ,I bought him from Ned Fielding
Lord Arkinstone,in his coach ,I robbed near Covent Gardens
And two hours later ,that same night,I robbed the Earl of Warren


One night at Tarnum Green,I robbed the revenue collector
And what I got from him I gave to a widow to protect her
I always robbed the rich and great, to rob the poor I scorned
But now in iron chains I'm bound,in doom I now lie bourned


For it's now to Newgate I'm confined and by the law convicted
To hang on Tyburn Tree's my fate at which I'm much afrighted
Farewell my friends and countrymen and my native Hill of Tara
Kind providence may test the soul of Valentine O'Hara.

Tullamore Song

Some people from Scotland were in the Brewery Tap,Tullamore on last Monday night. They work for the new "Tullamore Dew" whiskey company. One of them asked if there was such a thing as a Tullamore song,so Dominic Madden duly obliged.

This same question was asked many years ago by P.J.Grennan.Nobody could think of a local song so Dominic decided to write one.

The song was first aired in the Mallett Tavern and I must say it has stood the test of time very well. The "life lines"of our country run through Tullamore.This song remembers fondly the Tullamore our emigrant sons still recall with great affection.Dominic recorded this song on our C.D. ,"Life Lines" under our group name "Fartulla" and it is available on Google Play.


Tullamore


From the Slieve Blooms to the Shannon lies a timeless rugged land
Six thousand years of growing through nature's guiding hand
Between rolling hills of heather and golden fields of corn
Lies Tullamore,so peaceful,the town where I was born.


Oh and I miss you,I miss you
I need a calm amid the storm
I want to be where I was born
I miss you.


Through poverty,plague and famine this small town did survive
With penal laws and battles came a will to stay alive
And when great fire brought disaster one hundred houses were burned down
Then like the Phoenix from the ashes rose a proud and prosperous town


From the top of Charleville castle where as a boy I etched my name
I could trace the Esker Riada,ice age hills of world-wide fsme
Then the steeple draws me closerI can hear the church bells chime
As I watch the river meanderI'm taken back to another time


On my way from school I hurried past the jail and Acre's Hall
The haunted house in Earl Street where I heard the banshee call
And the trees that gave me shelteroften heard young lovers talk
Making plans about their future as they strolled on Bachelor's Walk


The Grand Canal,a lifeline,barges hauling up and down
And the busy railway station our country's veins run through our town
But as I look out of my window on this busy Boston street
I recall our old thatched cabin where Collier's Stream and Clonminch meet

The trip to Cooleycall

There are few placenames that have a more poetic ring than Cooleycall. Cooleycall is near Bridgetown,Co. Wexford and it boasts a recording studio. What a setting for a nice relaxed afternoon of music.

In or around 1983 Phil Murphy dropped me a line saying he had booked Cooleycall for a recording session.He said he would come to Athlone for a rehearsal as he had a whistler who wanted me to back a tune on the tape.

Bhi go maith agus ni raibh go holc,they duly arrived and I was introduced to Sean White.
After the tea and biscuit I said "Well, get your instrument and we'll make a start". They looked at me in amazement. Of course I had assumed that by "whistler"they meant-tin whistle player-. What a shock! NO! Sean White was the all-Ireland whistling champion,as in whistling with his mouth/lips. You could have knocked me down with a feather.
The problem with whistling a tune was that it was in a slightly different key each time-so-a nightmare for a not-so -hot guitarist.

We arrived at Cooleycall early on a Saturday morning and Phil Murphy went to the boot of his car and introduced a bottle of whiskey to calm the nerves and start the day on a jolly note. The recording started and things were going well.Phil,John and Pips were very well rehearsed so no problem there. The first track was being played back when someone noticed a strange sound in the mix.Roof windows had been wide open and a bloody crow was picked up by the sensitive microphones.So we had to endure the heat for the rest of the day.

I've just played the tape and it has stood the test of time.
Phil,John and Pips Murphy played mouth organs as only they could do.
Sean Stafford,Pips father in law,played accordion. Sean White whistled.Leo Carthy sang two songsand Pip's wife,Catherine, sang "The Fairy Boy".
Joe Monaghan sang "Gallipoli"and I sang"The Bonny Irish Maid",a song Phil Callery and myself had cobbled together from various sources.I think Phil came up with most of the song.

We played in Loftus Hall that night and drank success to "Traditional Music and Song from South Wexford"
Someone should convert it to C.D. format and re-issue it without delay.


The Bonny Irish Maid


As I roved out one morning fair,so early as I strayed
It being all in the month of June,the birds sang in the shade
The sun shone down right merrily,and the water did gently glide
Where Primroses and Daisies grow down by Blackwater side


I had not gone but half an hour when there by chance I spied
Two lovers talking as they walked down by Blackwater side
And as he embraced her in his arms these words to her he said
When I'm in America I'll be true to my Bonny Irish Maid


Oh when you're in America the Yankee girls you'll find
And you'll have sweethearts of your own, more pleasing to your mind
But do not forget the promises and the vows to me you made
Oh stay at home and do not roam from your Bonny Irish Maid


When I'm in America the Yankee girls I'll see
But they must be very handsome to remind me love of thee
For there's not a flower in yonder grove or a bloom in yonder glade
That can remind me love of you my Bonny Irish Maid



There's manys the foolish youth she said that has gone to a distant shore
Leaving his own true love behind,perhaps to see no more
It's in crossing of the Atlantic's waves sometimes their graves are made
So stay at home and do not roam from your Bonny Irish Maid



And then these sweethearts together so fondly did embrace
Like honey drops upon the dew the tears ran down her face
Saying there's not a day while you're away but I'll visit still these glades
Until you do return again to your Bonny Irish Maid.

The gorgeous City of Mullingar

Colm O'Lochlainn published his book"Irish Street Ballads" in 1939. It was compiled,planned and printed in Fleet St.,Dublin at the sign of the Three Candles. The book became immensely important to the singers of the "folk revival" in the 1960's. There are still gems in that book waiting for their day to come.

In 1965 came book 2."More Irish Street Ballads" and this book also should be on every discerning person's shelf.

In book 2 was the song"In praise of the City of Mullingar". O'Lochlainn writes in his notes"I have known fragments of "Mullingar"since schooldays and my thanks are due to Senator William O'Brien for giving me "Songs and Fables" by Professor W.J.Rankine(Glasgow:Maclehose 1874) wherein this"Ode in praise of the City of Mullingar" appears.
Colm welded the words to the tune of the Irish song,"Preab san Ol",a convivial song by Richard Barrett,the Erris poet.

I completely disremember who sang this song in the "old days" but when in doubt,we'll blame Frank Harte.
I recorded a version in Cha Nicholson's Studio in Athlone in 1984.


In praise of the City of Mullingar

You may strain your muscles to brag of Brussels ,of London ,Paris or Timbuctoo
Constantinople,or Sebastople,Vienna,Naples or Tonktaboo
Copenhagen,Madrid ,Kilbeggan or the capital of the Rooshian Czar
But they're all inferior to that vast superior and gorgeous City of Mullingar


That fair metropolis,so great and populous adorns the regions of sweet Westmeath
That fertile county which nature's bounty has richly gifted with bog and heath
Them sights so charming where snipes a-swarming attract the sportsmen from near and far;
And whoever wishes may catch fine fishes in deep Lough Owel near Mullingar


I could stray forever by Brosna's river and watch it's waters in their sparkling fall
And the ganders swimming and lightly skimming on the crystal bosom of the Royal Canal
Or on Thursdays wander 'mid pigs so tender and geese and turkeys on many's the car
Exchanging pleasantry with the bold fine peasantry that throng the market of Mullingar


Ye nine,inspire me,and with rapture fire me to sing the buildings both old and new
The majestic courthouse and spacious workhouse,the church and steeple that adorn the view
There's a barracks airy for the Military where the brave repose from the toils of war
Five schools,a nunnery, and a thriving tannery in the gorgeous City of Mullingar


The railway station with admiration I next must mention in terms of praise
Where engines howlin' and trains a-rollin' strike each beholder with a wild amaze
Then there's main street,that broad and clean street with rows of gaslamps that shine afar
I could spake a lecture on the architecture of the gorgeous City of Mullingar


The men of genius,contemporaneous,approach spontaneous this favoured spot
Where good society and great variety of entertainment is still their lot
The surrounding quality,for hospitality and conviviality unequalled are
And from December until November there's still diversion in Mullingar


Now,in conclusion,I make allusion to the beautiful females that here abound
Celestial creatures with lovely features and tapered ankles that skim the ground
But this suspends me,the theme transcends me,my muses powers are too weak by far
It would take Catullus,likewise Tibbulius,to sing the praises of Mullingar

The night of the wedding at Locky McGrath's

John Tiernan was a resident musician in the Jolly Mariner folk club in Athlone for a number of years. He played the concertina and smiled a lot,bringing good cheer to the multitudes. His favourite tune was "The Otter's Holt",which he learned from Charlie Piggott. Charlie played banjo,mandolin with the original De Danann. John did a super job on the tune and I still remember it fondly.

John Tiernan's father-in-law,Jack O'Sullivan,used to visit from time to time and always come with John to the Mariner. He would sing a song or two and enjoyed the music and the general atmosphere of the place. Jack made me a tape in 1981 and on it was the song"Locky McGrath" which I recorded in Midland sound studio in 1984.I think that Cha Nicholson actually sang on the chorus.

Locky McGrath

Oh its all of a song I am now going to prattle
The night I fell in with a gang on the tatter
As sure as my life it was just like a battle
The night of the wedding at Locky McGrath's
Chorus
Arra by God t'was a terrible tear
Me and McGrath,my mother was there
And if I get mixed up in the wheels of a train
I may never go to her wedding again
2
The first thing that came was a big load of peelings
A mighty big stew that was made in the Hie'lands
The look of the stew it hurted our feelings
The night of the wedding at Lock McGrath

There was plenty to eat,there was frostbitten liver
As sure as you're there and sure as you're never
The look of the meat sure it gave us the fever
The night of the wedding at Locky McGrath's
3
There were tinkers and tailors and journeymen nailers
Azzina,Azuna and a bundle of Quakers
The look on their faces near gave us the shakers
The night of the wedding at Locky McGraths

The first to come in was old Mrs.McRussell
She couldn't well sing so she started to whistle
Somebody gave her a kick in the bustle
the night of the wedding at Locky McGrath's
4
And the next to come in was old Paddy O'Hara
He came and he gave us a verse of "Tarrara"
I seen all his bones going out in a barrow
After the wedding at Locky McGrath's

The last to come in was old Paddy McGinty
He stood in the door and he started a shinty
He upped with the poker I'm sure he killed twenty
The night of the wedding at Locky McGrath's

Who knows where the time goes?

A few years ago{40 maybe}we in our ignorance smiled at our parents when they said "Make sure you put that radio back on Radio Eireann before you go to bed-we want to hear the news in the morning".
We didn't realize at that time that technology had passed them by. Now my turn has come! I must admit I do not like that feeling but what can one man do?
Who knows where the time goes said dear old Sandy Denny-how right she was.

Some time ago my friend Dominic Madden and I recorded a C.D. of songs we had written. My son persuaded me to put the C.D. on sale on Google Play. So far so good. He did his usual whizzing on the keys and assured me that the deed was done and the C.D. was loaded and ready for action. He then went on his merry way.
On the following day I thought "I must have a look at our C.D. on Google Play" Could I find it? -not a hope. I had to wait until my son's next visit. I explained my predicament and he smiled indulgently(as I myself had done so many years ago). For God's sake "he says"Its so very simple(mutter,mutter,"like yourself")

Step 1. Google play.
Step 2. music
Step 3. Type "Fartulla" in search box
Step 4: Up comes lifelines

Could anything be simpler and here was I wading through mountains of rappers, heavy metallers, teeny boppers, lounge lizards and lowdown jazz rats, when I could have been listening to sweet music ;sweet as the Cuckoo in May. Music mystic and beautiful as the Summer dawn, music to lure the bird from the flock.

The Ship Carpenters Wife -

Someone on "Mudcat" was enquiring about a song about a man who sold his wife (maybe a form of divorce), for the price of a few drinks.

My son Seamus saw the request and we got to talking about the above. I got the song from Frank Harte - The Human Encyclopedia of songs. Frank used to sing a lot of very serious (and very long) songs about Napoleon etc. but he also had a vast store of faintly amusing ditties.

It was decided to go to Norwich Folk Festival one year in the mid 70's. Phil and Dot Callery and Frank Harte went from Dublin. Denis Ryan, Liz and I went from the midlands. Norwich festival was fine but the real highlight for me was an afternoon in some kind of canteen. All the above mentioned were present and so was Nic Jones and Steve Turner.
Great singing ensued.

Nic Jones sang a version of " Last summer I went swimming" (McGarrigles?), Steve Turner I had never heard of but by God he could sing- A powerful and melodious voice- "Barrets Privateers" was a song he lashed out that day. I only found out later that he was a super concertina player.
Frank Harte sang and I taped " The ship Carpenters Wife".

The Ship Carpenters Wife

Come all you young fellows you flourishing folk,
Its truly a fact now i'm going to involk,
Its truly a fact now i'm going to unfold
Its concerning a woman by auction was sold.

A shipscarpenter lived a few miles out of here
And he was rather too fond of the beer
He was hard up for cash and as sure as my life
For Ten Shillings by auction he sold off the wife.

He called for a Salesman who conducted the sale
Up in the High market where he couldn't fail
The auctioneer came with his hammer so smart
And the Carpenters wife she stood up in the cart

She stood there for hours without grumble or groan
Up came a sailor he bid half a crown
He promised to make her a lady so spruce
and he'd feed her well up on cabbage and goose.

Next was a cobbler he gave a loud bawl
Nine shillings I'll give for her muscles and all
Bedamn said the sailor she one out of four
Ten shillings i'll give you and damn the screw more

"Oh thank you, oh thank you" said the bold auctioneer,
"She's going, she's going, is there nobody here
who will bid anymore - I'm afraid its no job
She's going, she's going she's away for ten bob"

He struck down the hammer and concluded the sale
Up came the sailor and paid on the nail.
He shook hands with his Betsy and gave her a smack
And then straight straddle legs he jumped up on her back

He called for a fiddler and fifer to play,
they danced and they sung there until it was day
then Jack to his bed or his hammock did go
And the fiddler and fifer played 'Rosin the bow'.

Now Jack is content with his ten shilling wife
long may they flourish and prosper through life
long may he flourish and prosper through life
The young sailor who bought The Ship Carpenters Wife.