Danny Boy (4 page)

The daughter singing to dear old Dad doesn't work on several levels. Not only is there the problem of her addressing him by his first name in the song, but the likelihood of him outliving her and returning to her grave
gives the song a less romantic and more maudlin tone that works against the author's language elsewhere. More plausible, perhaps, is the sister singing to her brother. But siblings in the Emerald Isle would not likely address each other in such formal or poetic tones.

And so we arrive at another thus far, the girlfriend. Now, if Danny were heading off across the briny during The Great Hunger of the 1840s, bound for America, 'tis unlikely that he would ever return. 'Twas said a gray-headed Irishman was a rare species as death visited most of them within fifteen years of arrival on the golden shores of Amerikay. And on further examination, destination America is a dubious assumption, 'cos it's pipes that are doing the calling. I assume that they are not the mere traditional non-militaristic elbow pipes (Uileann pipes) because you can't march about with these protuberances strapped to body and elbow. Furthermore, Pan pipes were not common to the area. The land described is inhospitable and intolerable, all mountains and glens, so that if the reason for leaving was economic, our man Danny would have brought the missus along for the crossing, as was often the case with family emigration from Ireland. So, that casts the wife scenario in suspicion.

Now we are left with the Ma and the Da, which
may prove the most likely of choices. Grand Irish tenors such as John McCormack were so convincing in their performances of “Danny Boy” that audiences were convinced the song was that of a father to a son. Aside from the paternal address (“Danny Boy”), there's a clear indication that Danny may be considerably younger than the narrator. For instance, it's assumed that when Danny returns, the narrator will likely be dead. Furthermore, the line, “It's you, it's you must go and I must bide” is consistent with a father's lament that he himself could not answer the call to battle, and that his son instead must heed the call of the pipes. But then, “Danny Boy” is entreated to return when the summer is in the meadow or when the valley is buried under snow, because he or she who was left behind will not have stirred.

So while the father as narrator is credible, one must question the prodigious affection he shows toward his son. Despite the effectiveness of the song when sung by a male, it is still hard to imagine an Irish father grasping for such sentimental and romantic words as established in the second verse, bidding Danny to “bend and tell me that you love me, And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!”

Again, entirely within the realm of possibility,
and a case made all the more powerful under the spell of the Irish tenors. But as we've already established, the influence of Frederick Weatherly's mother on his writing is formidable, and from the evidence, it appears Weatherly wrote the lyrics as if his mother were the narrator. He then attempted to neutralize the gender-specific language, crafting a song more suitable for both sexes.

Weatherly's lyrics also hint at the time, place, and setting of the song, as well as some background on the parties involved. In the second verse there are the lines, “Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying and kneel and say an Ave there for me.” Note that the lines don't ask for a prayer, but an Ave, which is the clue to the religion of the folks in this miniature saga of goodbye, death, and return. An “Ave” usually precedes “Maria” (as written by Gounod) and the woman Maria is the mother of Jesus, to whom any average Church of Rome adherents have more than a passing devotion. The conclusion: all of the participants in this epic, above and below ground, are of the Catholic faith.

Most ghost stories concern spirits haunting a particular spot where a violent act occurred, such as murder, battle, or suicide. Shakespeare's plays are replete with such ghosts, as in
Hamlet
and
Macbeth
. Sometimes in a story
of unrequited love, a grief-stricken maiden will weep for the return of a lover, even though he may be dead. Buried, the deceased is stretched out in a posture of waiting in hopes of a warmer, sweeter grave, if such a thing is possible with decay and decomposition. Some revisionists, perhaps disturbed by Weatherly's morbidity, have tried to change the original words from “And all my grave shall warmer, sweeter be” to “And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be.” Indeed, there are many recordings with the softer, more romantic phrasing of “Danny Boy.” However, we will entertain facts and flights of fancy, but no changes in the original text.

So despite all the analysis and assumptions, the song has all the remnants of a mystery, although perfectly pieced together so as to seize the hearts of so many, and yet so cryptically phrased as to preserve it as a secret.

 

W
hat is it about Derry or Londonderry to put an air to? The town maintains historic political implications, even the name itself. (Protestant loyalists call it Londonderry, Catholic nationalists call it Derry.) Our Londonderry or Derry is a city in the province of Ulster, located in the northernmost part of Ireland. The whole country is divided into four provinces, the aforementioned Ulster to the north, Leinster in the east, Connaught to the west, and Munster to the south. These provinces, in turn, are divided into counties, thirty-two in all, of which six are part of Ulster and under British rule. Long ago, the rebellious Northern Irish resisted British rule, provoking fears of a revolution. After an abortive and prolonged war on the invaders, the O'Neills and the O'Donnells were defeated and went off into exile in Italy and Spain. Their lands were confiscated and given to Scots Presbyterians who, it was assumed, were better farmers than the natives. The Irish retreated to the hills and mountains and in
furious raging raids, they attempted to kill off the usurpers, much the same as the Indians did in America. 'Twas thus they gained a reputation for savagery and later, terrorism.

That area of Ireland produced not only warriors, but bards and poets. It also provided the setting for one of the greatest Irish epics known as the Cattle Raid of Cooley and the death of the mythical hero Cuchulainn. An ancient poem, “Summer is Gone,” sometimes attributed to Finn, and sometimes listed as Anonymous in the ninth century, laments the passing of the summer:

I have tidings for you: the stag bells; winter pours;

summer has gone;

Wind is high and cold; the sun low; its course is short

the sea runs strongly;

Bracken is very red; its shape has been hidden; the call

Of the barnacle-goose has become usual;

Cold has seized the wings of birds; season of ice: these are my tidings
.

Another poem from the same period also associates aging and death with the change of seasons:

[1st verse]

Winter is cold; the wind has risen: the fierce stark-wild

Stag arises; not warm tonight is the unbroken mountain
,

Even though the swift stag be belling
.

[5th verse]

Today I am old and aged: few men do I recognize;

I used to brandish a pointed spear hardily on a morning of truly

cold ice
.

We are left to look not only on the history and birthplace of this melody, but on the inhabitants as well. Despite the second verse's finality, there are numerous songwriters, poets, and patriots who passionately desire to clarify this song by injecting nationalism and militarism with additional verses of “Danny Boy.” I'm indebted to Michael Robinson and his Standing Stones Web site for the following verses, which he says claim no paternity:

Oh Danny Boy, go bravely fight

for freedom

My beloved child I give to Mother

Ireland

For it was she who gave him

unto me

A hundred sons though they be

taken from me

And if for Erin's cause they too must

Die

God's hands will surely guide them

Unto glory

As upon the holy battlefield

They lie
.

At times this will cause eyes to roll skyward and evoke unprintable expletives. A cursory survey of women who are mothers was inconclusive, but hilarious, nonetheless. My poll was not scientific by any means, but the sentiments were clear. To the question “Would you give your son to die for Ireland, or indeed America?” the replies were mixed: “Have you seen a doctor lately?” “I couldn't give him to anyone. He's too rowdy,” “No, he always comes home for dinner,” and so on.

Furthermore, if the mothers ever did manage to bring a hundred sons into the world, they wouldn't mind ninety-seven or so joining the army, provided they avoided an actual war. Unanimously, the mothers were unable to reconcile the words “holy” and “battlefield” and believed it unlikely that God would approve of death in the name of war.

Another verse harkens back to simpler times when gunpowder was unavailable to the revolting peasantry:

But should I live and should you

Die for Ireland

Let not your dying thoughts be

All of me

But breathe a prayer to God for

Our dear Sireland

That He will hear and He will set her

Free

And I will take your place and pike

My dearest

And strike a blow, though weak

That blow may be

To help the cause to which your heart was nearest

and you will rest in Peace until I come for thee

Once more, a warlike parent dispatches a son to spill blood for Ireland. And in the best traditions of martyred motherhood, she enjoins him not to think of her as the blood bubbles around his lips in his last moment of life. Rather, Danny should be praying “for our dear Sireland.” Note the gender change from Mother Ireland to Sireland. Bad poets will sacrifice anything for a rhyme.

Further along in the verse, the bloodlust has over-taken the poor woman as she is ready to whack the nearest
Englishman with a pike. This, despite the fact that the pike is more a spear-like weapon, practical for impaling or penetrating an enemy, but somewhat inept in the whacking department.

As Michael Robinson said, the image of Danny's gray-haired mother in her black-tasseled shawl, tottering off to war with a big pike to turn the red coats into shishkabobs, is fairly ludicrous. Historically, the women did do their part in defending the country, particularly at the Siege of Limerick in 1651, where they threw stones at the Cromwell army. Nearly forty years later in 1689, the Siege of Derry began, and once more the Irish were forced to take sides in the complicated politics and wars of continental Europe. James II, a Catholic, had antagonized the Protestant power elite in Britain by ceding Ireland to his brother-in-law, Tyrconnell, who restored Catholics to full participation. Outraged, the Protestants implored William of Orange to oust Jimmy II and restore Protestant values, and so the war commenced. And where did this war, The Willimaite War as it came to be known, begin? Why, in the land of Danny Boy, of course.

This ancient city of Derry was the site of a monastery founded by the great Irish scholar St. Colmcille around the fifth century. The word
Derry
derives from
the Gaelic word
doire
, which means “oak tree.” The whole of the island of Ireland was covered by oak forests and when a tree grew close to a well, it became a holy place where ribbons and adornments and later on, medals were hung in supplication to the spirits who resided there. In the numerous uprisings and revolutions that occurred after the English pope, Adrian IV, granted dominion over Ireland to Henry II, oak forests provided ideal hiding places for the rebellious Irish engaged in guerilla warfare. But the Brits had a judicious response to the pesky problem of these mighty oaks. They knocked 'em down, an effective tactic of deforestation and defoliation which preceeded the United States's own chemical version, centuries later, in Vietnam. Besides flushing out the mad Irish from their lairs, the English used the oak to build the grand ships of the British navy and to line the interiors of their majestic cathedrals, for the glory of God and the rule of Brittania. Because of the desecration and destruction of the sacred oak tree, Doire has immeasurable significance for the Irish.

Derry City has a history as one of the most attacked and besieged cities. Though the area was occupied for several thousands of years, it was not until the summer of 1600 that the foundation stones for the modern
city were laid by a force commanded by Sir Henry Docwra. The following is an excerpt from
The History of Ulster
by Jonathan Bardon from the Narration of Sir Henry Docwra:

O
N THE
22
ND OF
M
AY WEE PUT THE
A
RMY IN ORDER TO MARCHE, & LEAVING
C
APTAIN
L
ANCELLOTT
A
TFORD AT
C
ULMORE WITH
600
MEN, TO MAKE UP THE WORKES, WEE WENT TO THE
D
ERRY
4
MYLES OF UPON THE
R
IVER SIDE, A PLACE IN MAN NER OF AN
I
LAND
C
OMPREHENDING WITHIN IT
40
ACRES OF
G
ROUND, WHEREIN WERE THE
R
UINES OF AN OLD
A
BBAY, OF A
B
ISHOPP'S HOUSES, OF TWO CHURCHES, & AT OF THE ENDS OF IT AN OLD
C
ASTLE, THE
R
IVER CALLED LOUGHFOYLE ENCOMPASSING IT ALL ON ONE SIDE, & A BOGG MOST COMMONLIE WETT, & NOT EASILIE PASSABLE EXCEPT IN TWO OR THREE PLACES DIVIDING IT FROM THE MAINE LAND
.

T
HIS PEECE OF
G
ROUND WE POSSEST OUR SELVES OF WITHOUT
R
ESISTAUNCE, & JUDGING IT A FITT PLACE TO MAKE OUR MAINE PLANTATION IN, BEING SOME WHAT HIE, & THEREFORE DRY, & HELATHIE TO DWELL UPON, ATT THAT END WHERE THE OLD
C
ASTLE
STOOD, BEING CLOSER TO THE WATER SIDE
, I
PRESENTLIE RESOLVED TO RAISE A FFORTE TO KEEP OUR STOORE OF
M
UNITION & VICTUELLS IN, & IN THE OTHER A LITTLE ABOVE WHERE THE WALLS OF AN OLD
C
ATHEDRAL CHURCH WERE YET STANDING TO EVERT ANOTHER FOR OUR FUTURE SAFETIE & RETREATE UNTO UPON ALL OCCASSIONS
.

James II, whose daughter Mary was married to his enemy, William of Orange, ordered the Protestant soldiers out of Derry, replacing them with a Catholic regiment. The town's leading citizens fervently discussed whether to comply with this edict. A fearful Bishop Hopkins advised that surrender would be the best course, a notion backed by a trembling bunch of city fathers. However, an intrepid lot of apprentice boys, thirteen in all, stole the keys of the gates from the guards and raised the main drawbridge. They locked the gates with yells of no surrender on their lips and commenced a way of life, that in a sense, has lasted to this very day. Every year, on the nearest Saturday to August 12th, thousands of men of all ages, calling themselves Apprentice Boys, commemorate the original thirteen boys with flags flying, drums beating, bellowing “No surrender!” They march in the low-lying vicinity of the
Catholic area, and from the walls they throw pennies at the papists, a gesture of supreme contempt aimed at the cowering minority. Then it's off to the pubs to sing the battle songs and hymns of old and propose mad toasts, the more traditional one:

Here's to the glorious immortal and pious memory

of King William,

who saved us from knaves and knavery, slaves and slavery,

rogues and roguery, brass money and wooden shoes!

If any man will not rise to this toast
,

may he be slammed, crammed, and jammed

into the great gun of Athlone

and may that gun be fired into the pope's belly

and may the pope be fired into the devil's belly

and the devil fired into the deepest, darkest pits of hell
,

and may the gates of hell be slammed shut and locked

and the key be kept for all eternity

in the pocket of an Orangeman

and here's a fart for the Bishop of Cork
.

Although knowing it would be difficult to top a fart for the Bishop of Cork, the Catholics managed a response of their own:

Do not speak of your

Protestant minister

Or your church without morals or faith

For the foundation stones

Of your temple

Are the balls of Henry

the Eighth

In the three hundred plus years since the Siege of Derry, emotions blaze up as if it were yesterday.

The people of Derry suffered dreadful privations. The constant bombardment brought buildings down on top of the women and children sheltering there. Here was the last fortified city in Europe enduring the last great siege of the British Empire. Involved in the struggle was the Pope James II, Leopold I of Austria, Maxmillian of Bavaria, Louis XIV of France, and any other available monarch with an unemployed army. Did the Irish Protestants or Catholics know that they were miserable, disposable pawns in an international quarrel among foreign kings? Not bloody likely. Just mention God, country, and principle, and it's no bother exciting people about preserving what never was.

This Siege of Derry dragged on for four months; the number of people who died from warfare and starvation
cannot be counted, only estimated. According to Jonathan Borden in his “History of Ulster,” there were seven thousand soldiers defending the city and as many as thirty thousand civilians clambering for safety. The soldiers were commanded by a Major Henry Baker and a Church of Ireland rector named George Walker, which causes one to wonder if he has a descendant who is a sitting president of the U.S.A.