The final part of a three-part series on Seán Ó Coileáin.
O’Coileáin was definitely in Myross when he wrote ‘An Buachaill Bán’. The first two lines describe perfectly the view from the height of Sliabh na nGar – the view of Castlehaven harbour, the wooded slope of the Lackareagh down to the water’s edge, with Rahine Castle, the League and Reen peninsula, and across the inlet Castletownshend village on the hillside.
‘Maidin læ ghil fá dhuille criant ghlais / Daire im aonar cois imeall trá’
(One bright morning under the green foliage / Alone by the ocean’s edge)
‘An Buachaill Ban’ is an Aisling poem of high quality. The word Aisling means a dream or vision. The vision the poet always sees is the spirit of Ireland as a majestic, radiant, beautiful maiden. Séan O Coileáin describes her appearance ‘í bhfis trém néallaibh do dhearcas spéirbhean’ – (in a vision I saw a beautiful maiden). From Aodhagán Ó Rathaille on, the spéirbhean (literally sky-woman) mourns the condition of Ireland and looks forward to the return of the Jacobites. The Irish people had no leader in the 18th century. After Sarsfield there was no leader in whom they could place their hopes until the rise of O’Connell – ‘a wilderness of more than a hundred years’. In this despair, the only banner that promised another fight, and a reversal of their misfortune was the return of the Stuarts. In the ‘Aisling’ poems, Ireland’s woes are detailed – her princes (Red Hugh, Eoghan Rua O’Néill, Sarsfield etc) are all dead, her castles broken, her land in the possession of foreigners, her children scattered across the sea. ‘This Jacobite Aisling is quite typical of that genre; indeed, it is one of the most perfect, if in these we look for music and decoration’ wrote Corkery. This is a translation of the first verse from ‘The Hidden Ireland’ (pp 299/300) translated by Éireannach.
‘With crimson gleaming the dawn rose, beaming / On branching oaks nigh the golden shore, / Above me rustled their leaves, and dreaming, / Methought a nymph rose the blue waves o’er; /
Her brow was brighter than stars that light our / Dim, dewy earth ere the summer dawn, / But she spoke in mourning; “my heart of sorrow / Ne’er brings a morrow, mo Bhuachaill Bán”.
The ‘Battle of Ross’ is a long poem, which tells of a clash between local Orangemen, who paraded through the town of Rosscarbery on July 12, 1798, commemorating King William’s victory at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, with local Catholics.
‘July the twelfth in Ancient Ross / There was a furious battle / Where many an Amazonian lass / Made Irish bullets rattle.’
O’Coileáin was friendly with Colonel Townsend of Castletownsend demesne. On one occasion Ó Coileáin was arrested for running a school, which was prohibited by law to Catholics. He wrote a letter in verse to Colonel Townsend who had him released. In ‘Sweet Castletownshend Demense’ he extols the beauty of the village and in particular Townsend’s Demense. This is the first verse:
‘You gently sweet muses assist me, / And join in the sweet vocal air, / In praise of that sweet habitation / Where nature its beauties display. / I’ve roamed through all parts of this nation / I’ve travelled from Paris to Spain, / Yet I’ve found none so truly delightful / As Sweet Castletownshend Demense.’
Many of his sayings and exploits were kept alive in the oral folklore of the area. One Sunday morning in Stookeen Church, there happened to be in the congregation, a wandering beggar man, nicknamed Sciúirdín, and his little dog, Beití (Betty). During mass the little dog barked. The priest was very angry but said nothing. When mass was over the priest met Sciúirdín who was chatting with others near the gate. Béiti barked again. The priest caught the little dog and threw her against the wall, killing her. Sciúrdín was very upset but was afraid to say anything. Séan Máistir was among the crowd who witnessed what happened. He walked over to where Beití lay dead and composed a quatrain, the last line of which is: ‘Is ní bás gan sagart fuair madra Sciúirdín’. (And it wasn’t death without a priest that Sciúirdín’s dog received).
One day when Séan Maistir was returning from Poll’s Shebeen, obviously intoxicated, he sat on the ditch and tumbled into a lochán (pool) of water, ‘An Lochán Buí (the yellow pool). A woman with little sense happened to be passing and scolded Séan for being drunk and giving bad example. This was his reply:- ‘Fear na meisce síoraí agus bean na buile shíntí / Agus bean na buile / Dá chur i dtuiscint / D’fhear an meisce a droch-phoíntí.
‘The man who is always drunk / And the woman who is half crazy / And the mad woman / Telling the drunken man his bad points.’
Mr. John O’Donovan of Castlehaven N.S. included the following story in the Irish Schools Folklore Collection of 1938, which I have translated as follows:-
A certain problem was presented to learned men in Dublin. Since they could not solve it they sent a scholar to Seán Ó Coileáin. When the scholar reached Union Hall he went in to a public house. The innkeeper was talking to a man who had the appearance of a spailpín (wandering labourer). The man from Dublin asked the innkeeper where Séan Ó Coileáin lived. The spailpín told him that he was living near Ó Coileáin and that he would accompany him to the house. As they proceeded towards the Lackareagh, the scholar outlined the problem to his companion. Nothing further was said until they reached a heap of sand. With the point of a stick, by the light of the moon, the spailpín solved the problem. [mathematical?]
Then it struck the scholar that his companion was no ignorant spailpín but Séan Ó Coileáin himself. And he was right.
In the School Folklore Collection of Union Hall (1938), the Principal, Tomás Ó’Donnabháin, included most of a long poem in English entitled ‘Cuchulainn and Cinnlaoch’ attributed to Séan Máistir. Mr O’Donovan states that his father had many stories about Ó Coileáin and that he knew many of his poems. He mentions one other, ‘Eachtra Chapaill an Chuimín’, which was known in English as ‘The Sorrel Nag’.
Séamus Mac Cártaigh, Principal of Knockskeagh, N.S. Leap, includes a poem attributed to Ó Coileáin, which he transcribed from Tadhg Ó Muirthile, of Kilfadeen, Leap. There is an Irish and English version of the poem, ‘My Sweet Cailín Fionn’ – (My Sweet Fair-haired Girl). It is a lyrical description of a beautiful girl with whom Ó Coileáin fell in love. This is the final verse in English:
‘No black, no brown will please me / Her sorrel will not tease me / There’s no colours there to tease me / But the fair one that’s true. / With her curling locks so amazing / Made thousands stand out gazing / And why shouldn’t I be praising / My sweet Cailín Fionn.’
In his ‘Love-Letter’ to Margaret, full of exaggeration and ‘flowery’ language, the poet seems to set out to dazzle and impress his beloved abstruse. A few lines will suffice.
‘Most adorable Miss Margaret, the super-eminence of your super abundant pulchritude, the bright effulgence and dazzling irradiation of your azure luminaries, together with the sapient sanity and ratiocination of your analogical mind, totally ignified my macerated microcosm…’
The bardic tradition goes back to pre-Christian Celtic Gaul and classical Gaelic poetry continued to be composed up to the middle of the 17th century. The defeat at Kinsale (1601) struck the death knell of the bardic order and ultimately to the almost complete annihilation of Irish tradition, culture and language one rate following centuries, its end hastened more rapidly by the Great Famine of 1845-49. In the old order the Bard or ‘file’ was highly respected, acclaimed and even feared because of their power with words. The Gael loved words. Even today, old men like Neilly Bohane of Dromadoon near Lough Ine, Skibbereen, Jerry O’Mahony of Dooneen, Castlehaven and Paddy Hurley of Kilfadeen, Leap, for example, can recite dozens of poems, mostly in English. Their love of English shines through.
In the folklore of West Cork the poet was attributed with great, even magical power. Both Séan Máistir and Micheál Chormaic Ó Súilleabháin were attributed with the power to banish rats. Micheál Chromic drove them out of Abbeystrewery graveyard, Skibbereen and Séan Máistir banished them from Myross graveyard.
Séan Máistir Ó Coileáin was buried in Rossmore Old Graveyard. A Celtic Cross, now weathered and lichen-covered, was erected over his grave in 1910.
