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| Subject | | ask a question |
| Sender | ginsoakedboy |
| Created | 23.05.2005 11:56 |
After much intensive research ( two minutes on google),
I came up with this
One of Ireland's most popular songs was written by
William Pembroke Mulchinock who fell in love with one
Mary O'Connor, a maid in service to his parents. Fact
or fiction, the following account, which was compiled
from various sources, tells of an unrequited romance
between a wealthy Protestant lad and a poor Catholic
colleen.
At 17, Mary was a dark-haired beauty with large,
lustrous eyes. When William's sister took him to see
her children in the nursery, he saw Mary for the first
time - and was totally smitten. From then on, he sought
out every opportunity to be with her and eventually,
they fell in love. She was especially taken by the
lovely poem he had written, just for her:
The pale moon was rising above the green mountains,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
When I strayed with my love by the pure crystal fountain,
That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,
And Mary all smiling was listening to me;
The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding,
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
Though lovely and fair as the Rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
William spent many evenings in Mary's parents' house
where he was well liked. As might be expected, his
family disapproved. Ignoring the wishes and opinions of
his parents, he asked Mary to marry him. She declined
because even though she loved him, she was afraid that
such a marriage would end in disaster.
Not long after, Dan O'Connell held a tremendous meeting
in Denny street on the very doorstep of the County
Club. The long monopoly by the Denny's of the
parliamentary Borough of Tralee was at last being
challenged by O'Connell for the forthcoming election.
Maurice O'Connell, Dan's son, was to contest the seat.
Tens of thousands came from all parts of Kerry and
beyond, some in marching order with many here and there
brandishing a pike or rusty sword; Mulchinock was
leader of one the Repealer contingents.
On this evening as Mulchinock passed, one of the
Repealers shouted at a little man called Leggett,
'Leggett, will you be Pope's Legate?' Pope was a
leading Repealer of the time who came from Causeway,
and was popularly known as Pope o' the Causeway.'
Leggett, whose patience was well-nigh exhausted, made a
run at his tormentor with a pike. To defend himself,
his tormenter made a thrust at Leggett with a rusty
sword and mortally wounded him.
Mulchinock saw what happened but did not realize its
gravity. He was more than astonished however, when
Captain Fairfield with some of the dragoons approached
him later and warned him that if Leggett died he,
Mulchinock, would be held responsible.
After the meeting, William went home where he met Mary
and produced an engagement ring; this time, she
overcame her fears and accepted his proposal. At that
moment, William's best friend, Bob Blenerhasset burst
in and told him Leggett was dead and the dragoons were
coming to arrest him. Bob gave William his horse and a
hundred gold sovereigns and told him to ride to Barrow
Harbour. There was a ship getting ready to set sail
which would remove him from the danger of arrest -
unjustified as it was.
Mulchinock took Mary in his arms to kiss her good bye.
"Good bye, my own," he said, "and don't grieve: I'll be
back soon." Tears welled up in her eyes but she kept
brave to the last. Not a flickering of an eyelid did
she betray her breaking heart. With that Bob rushed in
to hasten William's departure because two dragoons were
coming up the lane. William fled.
Eventually, he made his way to India where he worked as
a war correspondent. The British were having a
difficult time, but amid all the shot and shell and
blinding heat, he would often imagine a soft June day
in Ireland - lush June of the roses. And the fuchsia,
too. It came always about St. John's day, the buds
bobbing up and down against their background of dark
green - fairy bells with their exquisite purple chiming
for far, faraway things such as the bonfires of St.
John's eve:
"With how much glee in sweet Tralee
Ere yet, our joys were blighted,
With mirth and song when June came on
Our bonfires once we lighted."
Meanwhile, back on the battlefields of India, an
attempt was made to bring in the wounded and collect
and bury the dead; William recognized a fellow Tralee
man among the fallen - a Lieutenant Collis. William
requested an interview with the Commander-in-Chief,
known as 'Old Gough'. He wanted to ask the commander's
permission to take possession of the young lieutenant's
personal belongings so that he could return them to his
family, if and when William went back to Tralee.
Permission was gladly granted. The commander then went
on to enquire what a Mulchinock was doing so far from
home. William told Old Gough the story of Leggett and
how William was held responsible for his death. The
commander saw the injustice of it all and since the
Goughs hailed from Limerick, he had some influence and
would see what he could do.
So it was that one afternoon in early spring, in the
year 1849, a distinguished-looking stranger descended
from the mail coach that had just arrived in Tralee.
The coach had deposited William outside The Kings Arms
and he needed to shake off the dust from his long
journey; he entered the hostelry. "Landlord," he called
out.
George Cameron presently appeared to offer his
services. He did not recognize William because he had
only recently taken over the hotel. "How may I serve
you, Sir?" "A cognac, my good man," replied William,
"The old place has not changed much," he added. "You
know this place?", Cameron asked. "I was born in Tralee
and I've come back for a very special purpose. To marry
a girl whose lovely eyes held my soul captive during
many years in India. We pledged that we would be true,
and I know she has been as true to me as I have been to
her." "Indeed," said the landlord, "it must be true
love for it to span the years till now, good Sir, but
now, if you'll please excuse me, I'll have to pull the
curtains across for a few moments as there is a funeral
coming down the road." "A funeral?" asked William.
"Yes, but don't let it disturb you: I'll bring you your
drink and you can sit here." "By all means, landlord,"
said William, "but it seems a bad omen, a funeral on
the day of my return." The landlord soon returned with
the cognac and William gulped deeply; he then went over
to where George Cameron stood observing the funeral
entourage as it passed by. "May she rest in peace"
murmured the landlord. William felt a chill run up his
back and turned to Cameron. "Who is the funeral for?"
"A local girl from down the road." replied Cameron.
William's heart sank but he held himself up and finally
asked the landlord "What was the girls name?" "Mary,
Sir, Mary O'Connor." She was just 29 years old.
There was nothing left for William now but Mary's grave
at Clogherbrien. The neighbors wondered if he would
ever come back to himself: was this to be the end of it
all? Not quite. William's friends saw to it that he was
re-aquainted with a girl he had met years before at the
races in Ballinasloe - Alicia Keogh. They eventually
married and then emigrated to America.
For a while, New York suited William. He and Alicia
started a family and he also began writing again. But,
in the end, his grief over the death of Mary O'Connor
caused the marriage to break up.
William returned to Ireland in 1855 where he sought
solace in alcohol. He never forgot his one true love
and in his misery, one of the last things he penned was
another verse to the poem he had written to Mary so
many years before:
In the far fields of India, 'mid wars dreadful thunders,
Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,
But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder,
I'm lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
William spent the rest of his life in a lodging house
in Ashe Street. On October 13, 1864, at the age of 44,
he died. His last wish was to be buried where he now
lies in Clogherbrien, beside his one true love. . .his
Mary, the Rose Of Tralee.
And when the pale moon rises o'er the green mountain,
And the sun is declining beneath the blue sea,
We dream of those lovers by the pure crystal fountain -
For they live in our hearts in this vale of Tralee.
Note: The melody is attributed to Charles W. Glover (1912).
Today's Rose of Tralee
The town of Tralee in County Kerry, southwest Ireland,
is famous for its annual Rose of Tralee International
Festival which has been going strong for 45 years. Of
course, the centerpiece of this entertainment
extravaganza sponsored by Guinness, is a unique
personality contest that commemorates one of Ireland's
best known love stories, that of Mary O'Connor, the
"Rose of Tralee". Every year, young women from around
the world who are between the ages of 18 and 25 and of
Irish birth or ancestry, compete for the coveted title
of Rose of Tralee.
Competitions are held in a great number of countries.
The winner from each country then travels to Tralee for
the World Final. The competition is not an ordinary
beauty pageant; contestants have to have Irish ancestry
and be able to show some skill reflecting Irish culture
- Irish dancing, singing, playing the harp or fiddle,
and so on; candidates must also demonstrate academic
ability and achievement.
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