A Tender Named America by Senan Molony

[Jan C. Nielsen]

I came across this traditional Irish song. Please forgive the translation.

Rising Of The Moon

Come on tell me Sean O’Farrell tell me why you hurry so,
Hush me vocal, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
Aye they’re orders from the Captain get you ready quick and soon,
For the pikes must be together by the risin’ of the Moon.

By the risin’ of the Moon, by the risin’ of the Moon,
For the pikes must be together by the risin’ of the Moon.

And then tell me Sean O’Farrell where the gatherin’ is to be,
In the old stop by the river, right where Mo met you and me,
One more worth a signal talkin’ this a left a marchin’ tune,
With your pike upon your shoulder by the risin’ of the Moon.

By the risin’ of the Moon, by the risin’ of the Moon
With your pike upon your shoulder, by the risin’ of the Moon.

Out of many mudwall cabin eyes er watchin’ through the night,
Many a man we heard was grubbin’ for the comin’ mornin’ light,
Burn is ramblin long the valley like the banshee’s long lit crew.
And a thousand pikes were flashin’ by the risin’ of the Moon.

By the risin’ of the Moon, by the risin’ of the Moon,
And a thousand pikes were flashin’by the risin’ of the Moon.

There’s a sign sayin' a river that a mass of men were seen,
Far above their shining weapons come the rue for love of free,
Death to every foe and traitor for explain the marchin’ too,
And her army boys her freedom tis the risin’ the Moon.

Tis the risin’ of the Moon, tis the risin’ of the Moon,
And her army boys her freedom, tis the risin’ of the Moon.

Tis the risin’ of the Moon, tis the risin’ of the Moon,
And her army boys her freedom tis the risin’ of the Moon.

 

[Inger Sheil]

Ah, this has to be one of the songs from when we rose in 1798!

A bad influence, the Irish...we had a Vinegar Hill in Australia, too

Emmet's final speech before his execution for his part in the 1803 rising ('Let no man write my epitaph...') was apparently one of those studied by young Abraham Lincoln.

And there's even a Titanic connection - Robert Emmet might not have gone down with the Titanic, but his picture did.

 

[Senan Molony]

Interesting translation there Jan. Yeah, this is a song of '98...

I find that second line translation interesting:
"Hush me vocal,"

The original line is
"Hush me buachall,"

Buachall is the Irish language word for "boy."
So it's hush me boy, and *his* cheeks were all a-glow.

I'll hush my vocalling now. No more warbling from me until maybe the St Patrick's Day gig in South Carolina...

 

[Senan Molony]

From the Cork Examiner, January 6, 1913. p. 6.

CLYDE SHIPPING CO

RETIREMENT OF CAPTAIN TOBIN (OF THE "AMERICA")

Queenstown, Sunday.

Captain James Tobin, Commodore Captain of the Clyde Shipping Co's fleet at Queenstown has retired after what has been in the fullest sense of the term a strenuous life at sea, and no man could possibly retire from command with a more satisfactory and successful record that to which Captain Tobin can lay claim.
He has been over 40 years commanding vessels at Queenstown, and during that period has had many voyages way from our port.
For the past 27 years he has been in the employ of the Clyde Shipping Co., and in that capacity, as well as while employed with the old Queentown Towing Co., he has won fame for himself by his exceptionally skilful handling of the vessels under his command.
Anyone who knows Cork harbour and what intercepting liners in bad weather means will marvel at the success that has followed Captain Tobin's handling of his tender and his freedom from accident in all those years past.
Many in Queenstown can recount stories of many a desperate struggle with the elements on the tender America with James Tobin in command and strangers who have come amongst us from other shipping ports from time to time have often paid generous tribute to Captain Tobin's superb handling of his tender, very often when it seemed as if nothing would save her from being seriously disabled while getting alongside or holding on to the liners while gale and sea rendered every moment of struggle desperate.
The natural pride which Captain Tobin took in our port, and his desire to prove that it had no equal as a highway for transatlantic liners, were such that he always felt personally glad at being instrumental, as he frequently was, in preventing the big liners from passing our harbour without landing mails and passengers.
I've often watched him in the height of a storm, while his tender was roped on to one of the monster passenger ships, and but for his unerring judgment in the directions he gave, many an accident would probably be reported against him.
The strain to which his lifework subjected him must have been awful, and it told somewhat on his once robust frame, for though he risked much, he never forgot for an instant what his duties were to his employers, and faithful and much respected employee that he has been, he kept his duty to the Clyde Shipping Co. ever prominently before him, and though his courage was wonderful, he never for an instant alllowed it to bear the impress of bad judgment.
He knew exactly what he and his ship were capable of accomplishing, and beyond that no power could make him go. It is often said, and I believe in perfect truth, that Queenstown has never had a man in command who could intercept a liner or handle a vessel in bad weather with such skill as Capt. Tobin, and knowing every current as he does, and with that lynx-eye that was his, he seemed to know by a glance wen a storm was in store or about to blow out.
His knowledge and experience were valuable assets to the entire shipping interests of the port. The countless thousands who have been carried by his tender on part of the way to or from America owe him much for his safe guidance, and the humblest exile was as much a consideration with him as the wealthiest of magnates.
The evolution of shipping durring his active career has been astonishing, and it was all the same to him, for with the biggest of the leviathans as well as the smallest, he by his magnificent judgment was equal to every demand and thus he contributed in no small way to the great good name which our port is credited with amongst all shipping authorities.
The news of his retirement marks the severance of a man of commanding worth - one who has served every interest he represented, or for which he was responsible, with a devotion that no man could improve on, and hence the sincerely expressed hope that his well deserved rest may be extended over many years.

(Now if Phil would fix the photo thingy, I could post his pickchur)

 

[Senan Molony]

To answer questions about the relative importances of the Titanic disaster versus the Home Rule Bill, these are the side-by-side headline treatments in the Cork Examiner for Tuesday April 16, 1912 as news breaks of the sinking.

These headlines have been pushed together in the image, but each story is given equal prominence, both garnering three full columns of the six-columns of the inside page. Both these headlines are on the same page.

The difference is that the details of the Titanic disaster are meagre, but there are lots of related stories. Meanwhile the Home Rule coverage continues overleaf for a full three pages. Saturation reportage of the issue, in other words.

 

[Encyclopedia Titanica]

Dunno whats wrong with it, seems to work on some topics not others or else purely at random?!

 

[Fiona Nitschke]

It's Senan.

Clearly he's an ET Board Jonah.

I say we throw him over the side. What say you?

 

[Senan Molony]

It's very annoying - but absolutely bloody brilliant when you can embed a picture in the thread without fussing around with links.

Funny, I was able to upload a pic onto my profile immediately afterwards, but I suppose it has the browse prompt inbuilt.

Whatever about Jonah, I have the patience of Job.
Let us know when it seems to be all right again, please Phil.

Maybe you should call up that little mechanic guy who fixed your car.

 

[Encyclopedia Titanica]

He had to take a long holiday in Rio after he refused to pay up to Geoff and Cook's protection racket.

 

[Encyclopedia Titanica]

I'll be talking to Research Machines on Monday, as well as the image problems it seems to be sending up a lot of server errors too.

 

[Senan Molony]

Haven't seen Geoff around lately... did he jump off the poop? And is a shoeless Pat Cook left clinging to only a few clutches of torn chiffon?

 

[Geoff Whitfield]

Hey Molony - Who are you calling a poop! I wasn't really going to jump, I had just noticed a smudge on the name plate and armed with my trusty can of Brasso, had just climbed over to clean it when this smart so and so grabbed me chiffon and scared me witless! Anyway, he hauled me back on the deck, sat on top of me and insisted that I call him Helen! As a result of our encounter I agreed to pose "in me nuddie" for him wearing just this old bit of blue glass heart shaped thing
Anyway, the results are in next month's Playboy
magazine and I'm assured that a staple will cover my modesty. It has been pointed out that there is so much of me that I may well have to spill into April's issue also - as long as it means twice the royalties I don't mind!

Geoff

 

[Senan Molony]

LOL!

 

[Jan C. Nielsen]

Can anyone fill in the blanks for the rest of this song? I can't make it out . . .

At Boolavogue as the sun was setting,
O'er bright May meadows of Shel-ma-lier,
A rebel hand - set the heather blazin'
And brought the neighbors from far and near.

Then Father Murphy from old Kil-cor-mack,
Spurred up the rocks with a warnin' cry,
"Arm" "Arm" he cried,
"For I've come to lead you,
In Ireland's freedom, we fight or die."

He led a sword 'gainst the coming soldiers,
The cowardly yeomen were put to flight,
T'was at the harrow the boys of Wexler,
Showed Barkie's regimen, how men could fight.

Look out coward hirelings,
Of King George of England,
Such every kingdom where be the slave.
For Father Murphy from County Wexler,
Speaks o'er the land, like a mighty wave.

At . . . hill, for the pleasance . . .
A hero slainly, stood by to by,
By the yeos of color
Took Father Murphy and burned his body
Upon the . . . .

God grant you glory,
. . . Father Murphy
and go the . . . to all your men,
But the cause that called you,
May call tomorrow, in another fight,
For the greener . . .!

 

[Henning Pfeifer]

Hi Jan and Senan

great article, great photos! I am sure, Senan, you know the postcard that is to be seen here (95k). I mean the card below:

http://members.tripod.de/hepfm/queens-harb.JPG

Does anyone know which steamer the tenders Ireland (in front) and America are approaching here?


And here, Jan, is the rest of the song you are looking for:

"At Vinegar hill o’er pleasant slaney
Our heroes vainly stood back to back
And the yeos at Tullow took father Murphy
And burned his body on a rack
God grant you glory brave father Murphy
And open heaven to all of your men
The cause that called you may call tommorow
In another fight for the green again

God grant you glory brave father Murphy
And open heaven to all of your men
The cause that called you may call tommorow
In another fight for the green again."

(I found that on a website that does not exist anymore)