Numbers of people, again, like Mr. Davitt or Mr. Hennessy, drop the O and Mac which properly belong to their names; others, without actually changing them, metamorphose their names, as we have seen, into every possible form. I was told in America that the first Chauncey who ever came out there was an O'Shaughnessy, who went to, I think, Maryland, in the middle of the last century, and who had twelve sons, who called themselves Chauncey, and from whom most of or all the Chaunceys in America are descended. I know people who have translated their names within the last ten years. This vile habit is going on with almost unabated vigour, and n.o.body has ever raised a protest against it. Out of the many hundreds of O'Byrnes--offshoots of the great Wicklow chieftains--in the city of New York, only four have retained that name; all the rest have taken the Scotch name of Burns. I have this information from two of the remaining four, both friends of my own, and both splendid Gaelic scholars, though from opposite ends of Ireland, Donegal and Waterford. Of two brothers of whom I was lately told, though I do not know them personally, one is an O'Gara, and still condescends to remain connected with the patron of the Four Masters and a thousand years of a glorious past, whilst the other (through some etymological confusion with the word Caraim, which means "I love") calls himself Mr. Love! Another brother remains a Brehony, thus showing his descent from one of the very highest and most honourable t.i.tles in Ireland--a Brehon, law-giver and poet; the other brother is John Judge. In fact, hundreds of thousands of Irishmen prefer to drop their honourable Milesian names, and call themselves Groggins or Duggan, or Higgins or Guthry, or any other beastly name, in preference to the surnames of warriors, saints, and poets; and the melancholy part of it is, that not one single word of warning or remonstrance has been raised, as far as I am aware, against this colossal cringing either by the Irish public press or public men.

With our Irish Christian names the case is nearly as bad. Where are now all the fine old Irish Christian names of both men and women which were in vogue even a hundred years ago? They have been discarded as unclean things, not because they were ugly in themselves or inharmonious, but simply because they were not English. No man is now christened by a Gaelic name, "nor no woman neither." Such common Irish Christian names as Conn, Cairbre, Farfeasa, Teig, Diarmuid, Kian, Cuan, Ae, Art, Mahon, Eochaidh, Fearflatha, Cathan, Rory, Coll, Lochlainn, Cathal, Lughaidh, Turlough, eamon, Randal, Niall, Sorley, and Conor, are now extinct or nearly so.

Donough and Murrough survive in the O'Brien family. Angus, Ma.n.u.s, Fergal, and Felim are now hardly known. The man whom you call Diarmuid when you speak Irish, a low, pernicious, un-Irish, detestable custom, begot by slavery, propagated by cringing, and fostered by flunkeyism, forces you to call Jeremiah when you speak English, or as a concession, Darby. In like manner, the indigenous Teig is West-Britonised into Thaddeus or Thady, for no earthly reason than that both begin with a T. Donough is Denis, Cahal is Charles, Murtagh and Murough are Mortimer, Domhnall is Daniel, Partholan, the name of the earliest coloniser of Ireland, is Bartholomew or Batty,[21] Eoghan (Owen) is frequently Eugene, and our own O'Curry, though he plucked up courage to prefix the O to his name in later life, never discarded the Eugene, which, however, is far from being a monstrosity like most of our West-Britonised names; Felim is Felix, Finghin (Finneen) is Florence, Conor is Corney, Turlough is Terence, eamon is Edmond or Neddy, and so on. In fact, of the great wealth of Gaelic Christian names in use a century or two ago, only Owen, Brian, Cormac, and Patrick seem to have survived in general use.

Nor have our female names fared one bit better; we have discarded them even more ruthlessly than those of our men. Surely Sadhbh (Sive) is a prettier name than Sabina or Sibby, and Nora than Onny, Honny, or Honour (so translated simply because Nora sounds like _onoir_, the Irish for "honour"); surely Una is prettier than Winny, which it becomes when West-Britonised. Meve, the great name of the Queen of Connacht who led the famous cattle spoiling of Cuailgne, celebrated in the greatest Irish epic, is at least as pretty as Maud, which it becomes when Anglicised, and Eibhlin (Eileen) is prettier than Ellen or Elinor. Aoife (Eefy), Sighle (Sheela), Moirin (Moreen), Nuala and Fionnuala (Finnoola), are all beautiful names which were in use until quite recently. Maurya and Anya are still common, but are not indigenous Irish names at all, so that I do not mind their rejection, whilst three other very common ones, Suraha, Shinead, and Shuwaun, sound so bad in English that I do not very much regret their being translated into Sarah, Jane, and Joan respectively; but I must put in a plea for the retention of such beautiful words as Eefee, Oona, Eileen, Meve, Sive, and Nuala. Of all the beautiful Christian names of women which were in use a century or two ago Brighid (Breed), under the ugly form of Bridget, or still worse, of Biddy, and Eiblin under the form of Eveleen, and perhaps Norah, seem to be the only survivals, and they are becoming rarer. I _do_ think that the time has now come to make a vigorous protest against this continued West-Britonising of ourselves, and that our people ought to have a word in season addressed to them by their leaders which will stop them from translating their Milesian surnames into hideous Saxon, and help to introduce Irish instead of English Christian names. As long as the Irish nation goes on as it is doing I cannot have much hope of its ultimately taking its place amongst the nations of the earth, for if it does, it will have proceeded upon different lines from every other nationality that G.o.d ever created. I hope that we shall never be satisfied either as individuals or as a society as long as the Brehonys call themselves Judges, the Clan Govern call themselves Smiths, and the O'Reardons Salmons, as long as our boys are called Dan and Jeremiah instead of Donal and Diarmuid, and our girls Honny, Winny, and Ellen instead of Nora, Una, and Eileen.

Our topographical nomenclature too--as we may now be prepared to expect--has been also shamefully corrupted to suit English ears; but unfortunately the difficulties attendant upon a realteration of our place-names to their proper forms are very great, nor do I mean to go into this question now, for it is one so long and so difficult that it would require a lecture, or rather a series of lectures to itself. Suffice it to say, that many of the best-known names in our history and annals have become almost wholly unrecognisable, through the ignorant West-Britonising of them. The unfortunate natives of the eighteenth century allowed all kinds of havoc to be played with even their best-known names. For example the river Feoir they allowed to be turned permanently into the Nore, which happened this way. Some Englishman, asking the name of the river, was told that it was _An Fheoir_, p.r.o.nounced In n'yore, because the F when preceded by the definite article _an_ is not sounded, so that in his ignorance he mistook the word Feoir for Neoir, and the name has been thus perpetuated. In the same way the great Connacht lake, Loch Corrib, is really Loch Orrib, or rather Loch Orbsen, some Englishman having mistaken the C at the end of loch for the beginning of the next word. Sometimes the Ordnance Survey people make a rough guess at the Irish name and jot down certain English letters almost on chance. Sometimes again they make an Irish word resemble an English one, as in the celebrated Tailtin in Meath, where the great gathering of the nation was held, and, which, to make sure that no national memories should stick to it, has been West-Britonised Telltown.[22] On the whole, our place names have been treated with about the same respect as if they were the names of a savage tribe which had never before been reduced to writing, and with about the same intelligence and contempt as vulgar English squatters treat the topographical nomenclature of the Red Indians. These things are now to a certain extent stereotyped, and are difficult at this hour to change, especially where Irish names have been translated into English, like Swinford and Strokestown, or ignored as in Charleville or Midleton. But though it would take the strength and goodwill of an united nation to put our topographical nomenclature on a rational basis like that of Wales and the Scotch Highlands, there is one thing which our Society can do, and that is to insist upon p.r.o.nouncing our Irish names properly. Why will a certain cla.s.s of people insist upon getting as far away from the p.r.o.nunciation of the natives as possible? I remember a Galway gentleman pulling me up severely for speaking of Athenree. "It's not Athenree," he said, "it's called Athenrye." Yet in saying this he simply went out of his way to misp.r.o.nounce the historic name, which means the "King's ford," and which all the natives call -_ree_, not -_rye_.[23] Another instance out of many thousands is my own market town, Ballagh-a-derreen, literally, "the way of the oak-wood." Ballach is the same word as in the phrase _f.a.g a' bealach_, "clear the way," and "derreen" is the diminutive of Derry, an oak-wood. Yet the more "civilised" of the population, perhaps one in fifty, offend one's ears with the frightful jargon Balla-had-her-een. Thus Lord Iveagh (Ee-vah) becomes Lord Ivy, and Seana-guala, the old sholder, becomes Shanagolden, and leads you to expect a mine, or at least a furze-covered hill.

I shall not give any more examples of deliberate carelessness, inept.i.tude, and West-Britonising in our Irish topography, for the instances may be numbered by thousands and thousands. I hope and trust that where it may be done without any great inconvenience a native Irish Government will be induced to provide for the restoration of our place-names on something like a rational basis.

Our music, too, has become Anglicised to an alarming extent. Not only has the national instrument, the harp--which efforts are now being made to revive in the Highlands--become extinct, but even the Irish pipes are threatened with the same fate. In place of the pipers and fiddlers who, even twenty years ago, were comparatively common, we are now in many places menaced by the German band and the barrel organ. Something should be done to keep the native pipes and the native airs amongst us still. If Ireland loses her music she loses what is, after her Gaelic language and literature, her most valuable and most characteristic possession. And she is rapidly losing it. A few years ago all our travelling fiddlers and pipers could play the old airs which were then constantly called for, the _Cuis d'a pleidh_, _Drinaun Dunn_, _Roseen Dubh_, _Gamhan Geal Ban_, _Eileen-a-roon_, _Shawn O'Dwyer in Glanna_, and the rest, whether gay or plaintive, which have for so many centuries entranced the Gael. But now English music-hall ballads and Scotch songs have gained an enormous place in the repertoire of the wandering minstrel, and the minstrels themselves are becoming fewer and fewer, and I fear worse and worse. It is difficult to find a remedy for this. I am afraid in this practical age to go so far as to advocate the establishment in Cork or Galway of a small inst.i.tution in which young and promising pipers might be trained to play all the Irish airs and sent forth to delight our population; for I shall be told that this is not a matter for even an Irish Government to stir in, though it is certain that many a Government has lavished money on schemes less pleasant and less useful. For the present, then, I must be content with hoping that the revival of our Irish music may go hand in hand with the revival of Irish ideas and Celtic modes of thought which our Society is seeking to bring about, and that people may be brought to love the purity of _Siubhail Siubhail_, or the fun of the _Moddereen Ruadh_ in preference to "Get Your Hair Cut," or "Over the Garden Wall," or, even if it is not asking too much, of "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay."

Our games, too, were in a most grievous condition until the brave and patriotic men who started the Gaelic Athletic a.s.sociation took in hand their revival. I confess that the instantaneous and extraordinary success which attended their efforts when working upon national lines has filled me with more hope for the future of Ireland than everything else put together. I consider the work of the a.s.sociation in reviving our ancient national game of +caman+, or hurling, and Gaelic football, has done more for Ireland than all the speeches of politicians for the last five years.

And it is not alone that that splendid a.s.sociation revived for a time with vigour our national sports, but it revived also our national recollections, and the names of the various clubs through the country have perpetuated the memory of the great and good men and martyrs of Ireland.

The physique of our youth has been improved in many of our counties; they have been taught self-restraint, and how to obey their captains; they have been, in many places, weaned from standing idle in their own roads or street corners; and not least, they have been introduced to the use of a thoroughly good and Irish garb. Wherever the warm striped green jersey of the Gaelic Athletic a.s.sociation was seen, there Irish manhood and Irish memories were rapidly reviving. There torn collars and ugly neckties hanging awry and far better not there at all, and dirty shirts of bad linen were banished, and our young hurlers were clad like men and Irishmen, and not in the shoddy second-hand suits of Manchester and London shop-boys. Could not this alteration be carried still further? Could we not make that jersey still more popular, and could we not, in places where both garbs are worn, use our influence against English second-hand trousers, generally dirty in front, and hanging in muddy tatters at the heels, and in favour of the cleaner worsted stockings and neat breeches which many of the older generation still wear? Why have we discarded our own comfortable frieze? Why does every man in Connemara wear home-made and home-spun tweed, while in the midland counties we have become too proud for it, though we are not too proud to buy at every fair and market the most incongruous cast-off clothes imported from English cities, and to wear them? Let us, as far as we have any influence, set our faces against this aping of English dress, and encourage our women to spin and our men to wear comfortable frieze suits of their own wool, free from shoddy and humbug. So shall we de-Anglicise Ireland to some purpose, foster a native spirit and a growth of native custom which will form the strongest barrier against English influence and be in the end the surest guarantee of Irish autonomy.

I have now mentioned a few of the princ.i.p.al points on which it would be desirable for us to move, with a view to de-Anglicising ourselves; but perhaps the princ.i.p.al point of all I have taken for granted. That is the necessity for encouraging the use of Anglo-Irish literature instead of English books, especially instead of English periodicals. We must set our face sternly against penny dreadfuls, shilling shockers, and still more, the garbage of vulgar English weeklies like _Bow Bells_ and the _Police Intelligence_. Every house should have a copy of Moore and Davis. In a word, we must strive to cultivate everything that is most racial, most smacking of the soil, most Gaelic, most Irish, because in spite of the little admixture of Saxon blood in the north-east corner, this island _is_ and will _ever_ remain Celtic at the core, far more Celtic than most people imagine, because, as I have shown you, the names of our people are no criterion of their race. On racial lines, then, we shall best develop, following the bent of our own natures; and, in order to do this, we must create a strong feeling against West-Britonism, for it--if we give it the least chance, or show it the smallest quarter--will overwhelm us like a flood, and we shall find ourselves toiling painfully behind the English at each step following the same fashions, only six months behind the English ones; reading the same books, only months behind them: taking up the same fads, after they have become stale _there_, following _them_ in our dress, literature, music, games, and ideas, only a long time after them and a vast way behind. We will become, what, I fear, we are largely at present, a nation of imitators, the j.a.panese of Western Europe, lost to the power of native initiative and alive only to second-hand a.s.similation. I do not think I am overrating this danger. We are probably at once the most a.s.similative and the most sensitive nation in Europe. A lady in Boston said to me that the Irish immigrants had become Americanised on the journey out before ever they landed at Castle Gardens. And when I ventured to regret it, she said, shrewdly, "If they did not at once become Americanised they would not be Irish." I knew fifteen Irish workmen who were working in a haggard in England give up talking Irish amongst themselves because the English farmer laughed at them. And yet O'Connell used to call us the "finest peasantry in Europe." Unfortunately, he took little care that we should remain so. We must teach ourselves to be less sensitive, we must teach ourselves not to be ashamed of ourselves, because the Gaelic people can never produce its best before the world as long as it remains tied to the ap.r.o.n-strings of another race and another island, waiting for _it_ to move before it will venture to take any step itself.

In conclusion, I would earnestly appeal to every one, whether Unionist or Nationalist, who wishes to see the Irish nation produce its best--and surely whatever our politics are we all wish that--to set his face against this constant running to England for our books, literature, music, games, fashions, and ideas. I appeal to every one whatever his politics--for this is no political matter--to do his best to help the Irish race to develop in future upon Irish lines, even at the risk of encouraging national aspirations, because upon Irish lines alone can the Irish race once more become what it was of yore--one of the most original, artistic, literary, and charming peoples of Europe.

Footnotes:

[1] Adam Smith's "Wealth of Nations."

[2] Being the substance of a Lecture delivered at the Opening of the Irish National Literary Society--in Dublin, Sir C. G. Duffy in the chair.

[3] But not now of entire words, as in the _rime riche_ of the French, where _livre_ (book) rhymes with _livre_ (pound). English "perfect" rhyme is an incomplete word-echo, which secures some variety.

[4] Sporadic exceptions of course are found in Ovid's occasional leonine lines. It is suggestive that he lived long and died amidst Scythians, from whom the Irish Gael deduce their descent.

[5] _E.g._, in its end-words: _tracht_, _eacht_, _fuacht_, _ruacht_.

[6] These rhymes are more subtly complete than may be supposed, for the chiming syllables are enriched by this, that the preceding consonants =d= and =g= (as "soft"), and =t= and =p= (as "hard"), give cla.s.s-chimes.

Besides this, we have alliteration of two vowels in the first line, and of two consonants in the second.

[7] Hunt, "History of Bristol, 1884."

[8] In the third line, the letters =v= and =r= are in (imperfect) concord.

They belong to the same cla.s.s of "light" consonants, from which it might be inferred that the ancient Irish did not roll the letter _r_.

[9] Thegan; Pithou: Opp. cvii.

[10] Malmesbury is a modification of Mailduff's burg.

[11] _I.e._, Hoved, The Head.

[12] Hr. Sjoden, the eminent Swedish harper, noted several Scandinavian airs but slightly varied from the Irish.

[13] Messrs. Vigfusson and York Powell in "Corpus Poetic.u.m Boreale," &c.

[14] Vigfusson, Prolegomena to Sturlunga Saga.

[15] From the Irish name, Cormac.

[16] Shakespeare mentions an old Irish air, _Cailin og astor_ (in "Henry II.", act iv., sc. 4); the air itself is give in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book, so that Irish music must have been admired at her court. It is curious to see the Irish alliteration still influential in the verses attributed to her:

"The doubt of =f=uture =f=oes exiles my present joy, And =w=it me =w=arns to =s=hun =s=uch =s=nares as threaten mine annoy; For =f=alsehood now doth =f=low and subject =f=aith doth ebb, Which would not be if =r=eason =r=uled or =w=isdom =w=eaved the =w=eb."

It is most interesting to observe that Shakespeare himself employs alliteration in his epitaph, and used it in a manner so closely conforming to the regular Irish system, as to suggest his acquaintance with it, _e.g._:

"Good =f=riend for Jesus' sake =f=orbeare, To =d=ig the =d=ust enclosed here, =B=lesst =b=e he who =s=pares these =s=tones, And cursed =b=e he who moves my =b=ones."

[17] It has been computed that, in the petty princedom of Tyrconnell (now Donegall county nearly) the real estate allocated to maintenance of the _literati_ amounted in value to 2,000 yearly, present currency.

[18] Delivered before the Irish National Literary Society in Dublin, November 25th, 1892.

[19] As an instance of this, I mention the case of a young man I met on the road coming from the fair of Tuam, some ten miles away. I saluted him in Irish, and he answered me in English. "Don't you speak Irish," said I.

"Well, I declare to G.o.d, sir," he said, "my father and mother hasn't a word of English, but still, I don't speak Irish." This was absolutely true for him. There are thousands upon thousands of houses all over Ireland to-day where the old people invariably use Irish in addressing the children, and the children as invariably answer in English, the children understanding Irish but not speaking it, the parents understanding their children's English but unable to use it themselves. In a great many cases, I should almost say most, the children are not conscious of the existence of two languages. I remember asking a gossoon a couple of miles west of Ballaghaderreen in the Co. Mayo, some questions in Irish and he answered them in English. At last I said to him, "_Nach labhrann tu Gaedheilg?_"

(_i.e._, "Don't you speak Irish?") and his answer was, "And isn't it Irish I'm spaking?" "No _a-chuisle_," said I, "it's not Irish you're speaking, but English." "Well then," said he, "that's how I spoke it ever"! He was quite unconscious that I was addressing him in one language and he answering in another. On a different occasion I spoke Irish to a little girl in a house near Kilfree Junction, Co. Sligo, into which I went while waiting for a train. The girl answered me in Irish until her brother came in. "Arrah now, Mary," said he, with what was intended to be a most bitter sneer; "and isn't that a credit to you!" And poor Mary--whom I had with difficulty persuaded to begin--immediately hung her head and changed to English. This is going on from Malin Head to Galway, and from Galway to Waterford, with the exception possibly of a few spots in Donegal and Kerry, where the people are wiser and more national.

[20] The following are a few instances out of hundreds of the monstrous transmographying of Gaelic names into English. The Gillespies (Giolla-Easbuig, _i.e._, Bishop's servant) are Archbolds or Bishops. The Mackays (Mac Aodha, _i.e._, son of Ae or Hugh) are Hughes. The Mac Reevys or Mac Culreevys (Mac Cuil-Riabhaigh, _i.e._, son of the grey poll) are Grays. The Mac Eochagains instead of being all Gahagans or Geoghegans have--some of them--deformed their name into the monstrosity of Goggin.

The Mac Feeachrys (Mac Fhiachraidh) are Vickors or even Hunters. The Mac Feehalys are often Fieldings. Mac Gilleesa (Mac Giolla Iosa, _i.e._, sons of Jesus' devotee) are either Gillespie or Giles. The Mac Gillamurrys (Mac Giolla-Mhuire, _i.e._, son of the Virgin's devotee) is often made Marmion, sometimes more correctly Macilmurray or Mac Ilmurry. Mac Gillamerry (Mac Giolla Meidhre, _i.e._, son of the servant of merriment) is Anglicised Merryman. Mac Gillaree (Mac Giolla-righ, _i.e._, son of the king's servant) is very often made King, but sometimes pretty correctly Mac Gilroy or Mac Ilroy--thus the Connemara people have made Kingston of the village of Ballyconry, because the _ry_ or _righ_ means a king. The Mac Irs, sons of Ir, earliest coloniser of Ireland, have, by some confusion with _geirr_, the genitive of _gearr_, "short," become Shorts or Shortalls, but sometimes, less corruptly, Kerrs. The honourable name of Mac Rannell (Mac Raghnaill) is now seldom met with in any other form than that of Reynolds. The Mac Sorarans (Mac Samhradhain, the clan or tribe name of the Mac Gaurans or Mac Governs) have become Somers, through some fancied etymology with the word _samhradh_. The Mac Sorleys (Mac Samharlaigh) are often Shirleys. The honourable and poetic race of Mac-an-bhairds (sons of the bard) are now Wards to a man. The Mac-intleevys (Mac an tsleibhe, _i.e._, sons of the mountain) are Levys or Dunlevys. The Macintaggarts (Mac an tsagairt, _i.e._, son of the priest) are now Priestmans, or occasionally, I do not know why, Segraves. The Macgintys (Mac an tsaoi, _i.e._, son of the sage) are very often n.o.bles.

The Macinteers (Mac an tsaoir, _i.e._, son of the carpenter) instead of being made MacIntyre as the Scots always have it, are in Ireland Carpenters or Wrights, or--because _saor_ means "free" as well as Carpenter--Frees and Freemans. Many of the O'Hagans (O h-Aodhgain) are now f.a.gans, and even d.i.c.kens's f.a.gan the Jew has not put a stop to the hideous transformation. The O'Hillans (Mac Ui Iollain, _i.e._, sons of Illan, a great name in Irish romance) have become Hylands or Whelans. It would be tedious to go through all the well-known names that immediately occur to one as thus suffering; suffice it to say, that the O'Heas became Hayses, the O'Queenahans, Mosses, Mossmans, and Kinahans, the O'Longans Longs, the O'Naghtens Nortons, the O'Reardons Salmons, the O'Shanahans Foxes, and so on _ad infinitum_.

[21] It is questionable, however, whether Partholan as a modern Christian name is not itself an Irishised form of Bartholomew.

[22] For more information about Tailtin, see an article by me incorporated in the "Rules of the Gaelic Athletic a.s.sociation," recently published.

[23] In Irish it is Beul-ath-an-righ contracted into B'l'ath'n-righ, p.r.o.nounced _Blawn-ree_.

UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON

THE PATRIOT PARLIAMENT

Of 1689, with its Statutes, Rites, and Proceedings.

By THOMAS DAVIS.