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more potato famine songs

mg 22 May 10 - 04:50 PM
*#1 PEASANT* 23 May 10 - 03:43 PM
mg 23 May 10 - 03:54 PM
mg 23 May 10 - 03:55 PM
Pierre Le Chapeau 23 May 10 - 05:39 PM
Suegorgeous 23 May 10 - 09:21 PM
Beer 23 May 10 - 09:37 PM
mg 23 May 10 - 11:05 PM
GUEST,Fantum 24 May 10 - 08:30 AM
GUEST,mark gregory 24 May 10 - 08:58 AM
Herga Kitty 24 May 10 - 07:10 PM
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Subject: more potato famine songs
From: mg
Date: 22 May 10 - 04:50 PM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-NoGdnHfl0&feature=related
The Dunes
By Shane MacGowan (1995)


When I watched at the age of four
in Eighteen Forty Seven
the mounds they built upon the shore.
They seemed to point to heaven

But the wind and the rain they have worked away.
Now the dunes are uneven
and the children kick the sand around
and the bones they are revealed then

My brothers and sisters died.
My mother only four and twenty
and I alone survived to see
the potatoes grow in plenty

While the fiddler played we drank poitin
and ate the last of the berries.
Then knelt and said the rosary
round the mounds of dead we'd buried

I saw dark shadows rise up from the sand
and dance all around the dunes
and they danced the rattling dance of the dead
to a set of mournful tunes

Lyrics Part 3.
They stole our grain as we died in pain
to put upon their tables.
The dying covered the dead with sand
and danced while they were able

While the fiddler played we drank poitin
and ate the last of the berries.
Then knelt and said the rosary
round the mounds of dead we'd buried

I saw dark shadows rise up from the sand
and dance all around the dunes
and they danced the rattling dance of the dead
to a set of mournful tunes

Lyrics Part 4
A crack of lightening split the sky.
The rain on the dunes it poured.
I left them lying where I shot them down
the bailiff and the landlord.
Then I went for a drink in Westport.
I walked today on the cold grey shore
where I watched when I was much younger
while they built the dunes upon the sand
for the dead from the Great Hunger


Well it is not copying right for me.. I will have to google the lyrics. It has been a long time since I went wow when hearing a song but today I just did.

I shall also include my tribute to Nora Garvey of Dunquin..most likely a relative of mine..mentioned by Peig Sayers in one of her books as being the most beautiful girl in Dunquin..daughter of Michael Garvey..don't know if her name was Nora but it was one of the top names of the area. mg

The pride of Dunquin Brod Dun Chaoin

Once we had fish that swam to our shore
Once we had flax and potatoes galore
And the kindest of neighbors our kith and our kin
Such as young Nora Garvey the pride of Dunquin

She made the fine butter and spun the fine wool
Ah those were the days when our bellies were full
The likes of her beauty we will not see again
Sweet Nora Garvey the pride of DUnquin

We prayed that Lord Ventry would build us a boat
So strong and substantial to keep us afloat
We would sail to a port where they let Irish in'
Twould have saved Nora Garvey the pride of Dunquin

But the boat was not built and the ship did not sail
And we watched our young Nora grow feeble and pale
Our fine strapping maiden grew famished and thin
Farewell Nora Garvey the pride of Dunquin

In St. Catherine's churchyard we said prayers for her soul
Not a man had the strength for to dig her a hole
There's a new celtic cross where a rock cairn had been
Rest in peace Nora Garvey the pride of Dunquin


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: *#1 PEASANT*
Date: 23 May 10 - 03:43 PM

Czech out my Potato Famines for a section with songs in it....
http://mysite.verizon.net/cbladey/patat/PotatCom.html

Potato famine pages


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: mg
Date: 23 May 10 - 03:54 PM

awesome. I shall read more of it later..

I saw that there is a march for those who died in the famine sheds of Quebec. I have a song about that too..Gross Isle but it is a bit gruesome so I won't post it but if anyone wants the words --tune I don't have yet..you can PM me.

I realize we are breaking a taboo by talking about this but I also think we must. mg


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: mg
Date: 23 May 10 - 03:55 PM

A friend named O'Shea said that the Se's, O'Sheas etc. were the seal people. Have others heard this for a particular family? mg


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: Pierre Le Chapeau
Date: 23 May 10 - 05:39 PM

I had a Potato Plant
Which got the blight.
It had the blight both day and night?
I have never seen such a terrible sight?
Has a potato with the Blight.

The Spuds "all went Black and fell to bits:"
They were no good to Adults or kids'.
"Which ever way you ate them they gave you the Shits"
You can Die from Potato Blight..
Thank you
Regards Pierre
Gardeners Tip.
'Do not eat Green Potatoes"


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: Suegorgeous
Date: 23 May 10 - 09:21 PM

Kilkelly, Ireland
(Peter Jones)

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 60, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara's so good
as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England,
the house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
a third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell
are going to be married in June.
Your mother says not to work on the railroad
and be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John
Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children,
may they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I suppose that he never will learn.
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of
and now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her
and now she's got six of her own.
You say you found work, but you don't say
what kind or when you will be coming home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
that your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
with money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people
are selling at any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John
I guess that I must be close on to eighty,
it's thirty years since you're gone.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I'm still living out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house
and Brigid's daughters have grown.
Thank you for sending your family picture,
they're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
what joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John
I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner to tell you that father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
and healthy right down to the end.
Ah, you should have seen him play with
the grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
down at Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
considering his life was so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
he called for you in the end.
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,
we'd all love to see you again


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: Beer
Date: 23 May 10 - 09:37 PM

This Song by Brendan Nolan is about an Island just before Quebec city where immigrants were processed. Much like Ellis Isle.
Beer (adrien)





Far From Their Home (A Song of Grosse Isle)


Over a million people left Ireland during the so-called famine. Many left one hell only to have it substituted for another. The island of Grosse Isle in the St. Laurence near Quebec city was a quarantine station which saw its resources stretched to the limit during the years of 1846 and '47. To the thousands who are buried there, R.I.P.

Oh we left our homes and traveled
Though many not know where we lie
They said 'twas a land of promise
But few saw it with their own eyes
For it's here on this sad lonely island
Where the wind blows cold to the bone
We rest in its soil forgotten
Far away from our home.

On the 14th day of June
Our packet it set sail
Down the eastern coast we wound
Past Wexford and Kinsale
Till sadly the sunset faded
Gently from our eyes
And the lights of the Southwest flickered away
As we said our last goodbye.

Oh it's hard to describe the suffering
As this awful voyage began.
Two weeks out to sea, we had lost 10 or more
As the fever took the strongest of men
And the holds were battened for days on end
To stifle the sickness below
While the waters of the ocean swallowed our dead
Far away from their home.

Our spirits they were weary
As the great broad river began
And a whale rose up from the waters
As we sailed into this new land
With its hillsides that sloped toward the shoreline
And villages cradled within
We prayed these people could pity our plight
And find a new home for our kin.

Within sight of Grosse Isle
We were anchored far off shore
For many more ships lay waiting
And we'd stay maybe five days or more
For the lost ones outnumbered the living
And a terrible sight it was plain
As a packet floated out in the bay
With its human cargo aflame.

And the sheds overflowed with suffering
And their cries pierced the silence at night
And the brave ones who tended these travelers
Some paid with their lives in the fight
I've lost my own on this island
And my candle's near dying away
To have traveled so far on our journey
Humble voyagers together we'll stay.

Je m'appelle Léo Quinn
Mes ancêtres sont ici
Enterrés sur Grosse Isle
Qui fait face à ma ville Montmagny
Mes souvenirs ne sont que des fantômes
Qui survollent et dansent dans le vent
Ils demandent qu'on se souviens d'eux
Même si ce n'est qu'en chantant.

There are no boats tied in the river
And the cross stands gaunt on the hill
No wretched shadows trod from the shore
To the fever sheds now that lie still
Just the white markers guard their memory
No names carved in granite or stone
And the long grass waves to the wind as she blows
O'er these brave ones far from their home.

And the long grass waves to the wind as she blows
O'er these brave ones far from their home.

Translation of French Verse:

My name is Leo Quinn
My ancestors lie here
buried on Grosse Isle
Which faces my town of Montmagny
My memories are ghosts
Who swirl and dance in the wind
They ask that we remember them
Even if only in song

Words and Music by Brendan Nolan
French verse by Maureen Walsh Nolan
© 1992 Brendan Nolan (SOCAN)


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: mg
Date: 23 May 10 - 11:05 PM

I read that what happened to cause the huge lineup is that the winds just pushed the ships across the ocean way faster than normal..these were true coffin ships with terrible disease..Canadian ships were way cheaper, the ones to New Brunswick were for transporting logs and were jerry-rigged for humans and had almost no laws requiring arrangements for waste etc. So they get there, the ships were lined up for miles, they could not unload them, they were filled with dead people, the water was polluted from throwing old mattresses and the dead into the river..

And they threw the living and the dying and the dead into the mud to get them off the ships..many died floundering in the mud. That is what my song is about actually.

Many Quebecois heroes, priests, nuns, people who took in the orphans. How much would we have done, or do we do? mg


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: GUEST,Fantum
Date: 24 May 10 - 08:30 AM

THE FAMINE SONG (Praties They Grow Small)

See Digitrad


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: GUEST,mark gregory
Date: 24 May 10 - 08:58 AM

CITY OF CHICAGO
Barry Moore (Luka Bloom)

http://www.lukabloom.com/lyrics_detail.php?id=330

In the City of Chicago
As the evening shadows fall
There are people dreaming
Of the hills of Donegal

Eighteen forty-seven
Was the year it all began
Deadly pains of hunger
Drove a million from this land
They journeyed not for glory
Their motive wasn't greed
A voyage of survival
Across the stormy sea

To the City of Chicago
As the evening shadows fall
There are people dreaming
Of the hills of Donegal

Some of them knew fortune
Some of them knew fame
More of them knew hardship
They died upon the plains
They spread throughout the nation
They rode the railroad cars
Brought their songs and music
To ease their lonely hearts

To the City of Chicago
As the evening shadows fall
There are people dreaming
Of the hills of Donegal

In the City of Chicago
As the evening shadows fall
There are people dreaming
Of the hills of Donegal

Eighteen forty-seven
Was the year it all began
Deadly pains of hunger
Drove a million from this land


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Subject: RE: more potato famine songs
From: Herga Kitty
Date: 24 May 10 - 07:10 PM

Penni McLaren-Walker's song about the dispossessed cottiers..

Oh the cottiers and their sons, fathers, mothers, wives and daughters are walking to the shore, for there's nothing left on land

And the ones they left behind, with legs too weak to carry, are dying in their thousands for want of England's hand.

And where are the owners, whose backs we all bent?

With nothing to barter, so can't pay our rent.

Lost our living, lost our land, our faith in fellow man

Watch the ragged cottier band walk to shore...

Kitty


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