I'm on the theme of the Hunger Strike, so I'm going to go with it. As stated in my post for Back Home in Derry, Irish prisoners in HM Prison Maze staged a Hunger Strike in 1981 demanding political prisoner status from the British government, then headed by Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher.
The British government had previously revoked the "Special Category Status" for paramilitary prisoners in 1976, instead treating them as general prisoners. The prisoners retaliated with a Hunger Strike. In total, ten men died during the strike before it was called off.
The Hunger Strikers' demands were five-fold:
1) The right not to wear a prison uniform
2) The right not to do prison work
3) The right of free association with other prisoners, and to organise educational and recreational pursuits
4) The right to one visit, one letter and one parcel per week
5) Full restoration of remission lost through the protest
Several tribute songs have been written for the men who died during the Hunger Strike. Below is Andy Craig's, "You Stand Accused of Murder," a poignant indictment of Prime Minister Thatcher.
You Stand Accused of Murder
The mists of time will honour this, the year of ‘81
When ten brave gallant Irishmen, a hunger-strike begun,
You might as well have shot them like the men of Easter week,
You knew they wouldn’t bend their knee, you knew they wouldn’t break
Chorus:
You stand accused of murder their blood is on your hands,
Of Francis Hughes, Ray McCreesh, Joe McDonnell, Bobby Sands,
Martin Hurson, Kevin Lynch, Thomas McElwee,
Mickey Divine, Patsy O’Hara and Keiron Doherty.
Time will never sanctify the reasons why,
In prison cells, in lonely hells our hunger-strikers died
Show me an English man who’d starve until he died,
But Irishmen have done it with honour and with pride.
Chorus
800 years is far too long the time has come to leave,
You’ve butchered and you’ve plundered, you’ve murdered and deceived,
But we promise we will never give up our human rights
To defend the men of ’81 in their final lonely fight.
Chorus
31 January 2008
Back Home in Derry
"Back Home in Derry" was originally penned as a poem by Bobby Sands. Sands was the leader of the 1981 Hunger Strikers who died in HM Prison Maze ("Long Kesh") in Kilburn, Northern Ireland. He was imprisoned for the possession of firearms. Sands and the other Hunger Strike prisoners were seeking status as political prisoners, and he and the others went on a hunger strike until that status was recognized. While in prison, Sands was elected to the Parliament of the United Kingdom. After 66 days of starvation, Sands died. Nine other Hunger Strikers followed suit.
The song itself depicts the way in which many criminals in Ireland were handled by the British in the nineteenth century. Botany Bay -- located in Sydney, Australia -- was a British prison colony for Irish criminals. As depicted in Sands' poem, there were significant hardships on the long trip from the UK to Australia, and many prisoners did not survive the journey. Those that did faced the brutal southern Australia climate.
Bobby Sands' poem was adapted to the music of Gordon Lightfoot's, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald."
Back Home in Derry
In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried.
In the rusty iron chains we sighed for our wains
As our good wives we left in sorrow.
As the mainsails unfurled our curses we hurled
On the English and thoughts of tomorrow.
Chorus:
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell.
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelights.
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time.
Endless night without dawning.
Chorus
Van Dieman's land is a hell for a man
To live out his life in slavery.
When the climate is raw and the gun makes the law.
Neither wind nor rain cares for bravery.
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended me bond
And comrades' ghosts are behind me.
A rebel I came and I'll die the same.
On the cold winds of night you will find me
Chorus
The song itself depicts the way in which many criminals in Ireland were handled by the British in the nineteenth century. Botany Bay -- located in Sydney, Australia -- was a British prison colony for Irish criminals. As depicted in Sands' poem, there were significant hardships on the long trip from the UK to Australia, and many prisoners did not survive the journey. Those that did faced the brutal southern Australia climate.
Bobby Sands' poem was adapted to the music of Gordon Lightfoot's, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald."
Back Home in Derry
In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried.
In the rusty iron chains we sighed for our wains
As our good wives we left in sorrow.
As the mainsails unfurled our curses we hurled
On the English and thoughts of tomorrow.
Chorus:
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
Oh I wish I was back home in Derry.
I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell.
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelights.
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time.
Endless night without dawning.
Chorus
Van Dieman's land is a hell for a man
To live out his life in slavery.
When the climate is raw and the gun makes the law.
Neither wind nor rain cares for bravery.
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended me bond
And comrades' ghosts are behind me.
A rebel I came and I'll die the same.
On the cold winds of night you will find me
Chorus
30 January 2008
Danny Boy
It would be hard to make a website about Irish music without including this piece. Admittedly, this song is more popular among Irish-Americans than those living in Ireland, but it is nonetheless one of the most famous and popular Irish songs.
The meaning of this song is somewhat disputed, but it is often interpreted as a message of a parent to a child leaving home to head off to war. The song lyrics were written by Frederick Weatherly, an English lawyer who never set foot in Ireland, in 1910. His lyrics were set to the Irish song, "Londonderry Air" in 1913. Despite that no one knows for sure what Mr. Weatherly was writing about when he penned these now-famous lyrics, the ballad has become synonymous with Ireland.
Danny Boy
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
The meaning of this song is somewhat disputed, but it is often interpreted as a message of a parent to a child leaving home to head off to war. The song lyrics were written by Frederick Weatherly, an English lawyer who never set foot in Ireland, in 1910. His lyrics were set to the Irish song, "Londonderry Air" in 1913. Despite that no one knows for sure what Mr. Weatherly was writing about when he penned these now-famous lyrics, the ballad has become synonymous with Ireland.
Danny Boy
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
"The Troubles" is a term used to refer to a period of violence in Northern Ireland involving several political factions. To greatly oversimplify the 30-year period, it was defined by a struggle between the predominantly Catholic nationalists, who sought unification with the Republic of Ireland, and the predominantly Protestant unionists, who wanted to remain part of the United Kingdom.
On 30 January 1972, 26 civil rights protesters in Derry were shot by members of the British Parachute Regimen. Thirteen of those protesters died immediately, with an additional casualty succumbing four months later from complications of injuries sustained that day. Six of the 14 slain were minors, and five of the 14 were shot from behind. Multiple eyewitnesses reported that the protesters were unarmed.
In the years following this event, several Irish military groups, including the provisional IRA, mounted an armed campaign against the British forces in Northern Ireland. This campaign formally ended with the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 (also known as "The Belfast Agreement" and "The Stormont Agreement").
John Lennon, who in addition to being the lead singer of the British rock group "The Beatles" was also the child of Irish parents, penned the song, "Sunday Bloody Sunday" to commemorate the tragic event.
Warning: Some offensive language in embedded video.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well it was Sunday bloody Sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the Free Derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Chorus:
Sunday bloody Sunday
Bloody Sunday's the day!
Sunday bloody Sunday
Bloody Sunday's the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that it's a lie
You're really a minority
On this sweet Emerald Isle
When Stormont bans our marches
They've got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
It's those mothers' turn to burn!
Chorus
You Anglo pigs and Scotties
Sent to colonize the North
You wave your bloody Union Jack
And you know what it's worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep Ireland for the Irish
Put the English back to sea!
Chorus
Well, it's always bloody Sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep the Falls Road free forever
From the bloody English hands
Repatriate to Britain
All of you who call it home
Leave Ireland to the Irish
Not for London or for Rome!
Chorus
On 30 January 1972, 26 civil rights protesters in Derry were shot by members of the British Parachute Regimen. Thirteen of those protesters died immediately, with an additional casualty succumbing four months later from complications of injuries sustained that day. Six of the 14 slain were minors, and five of the 14 were shot from behind. Multiple eyewitnesses reported that the protesters were unarmed.
In the years following this event, several Irish military groups, including the provisional IRA, mounted an armed campaign against the British forces in Northern Ireland. This campaign formally ended with the Good Friday Agreement of 1998 (also known as "The Belfast Agreement" and "The Stormont Agreement").
John Lennon, who in addition to being the lead singer of the British rock group "The Beatles" was also the child of Irish parents, penned the song, "Sunday Bloody Sunday" to commemorate the tragic event.
Warning: Some offensive language in embedded video.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well it was Sunday bloody Sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the Free Derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Chorus:
Sunday bloody Sunday
Bloody Sunday's the day!
Sunday bloody Sunday
Bloody Sunday's the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that it's a lie
You're really a minority
On this sweet Emerald Isle
When Stormont bans our marches
They've got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
It's those mothers' turn to burn!
Chorus
You Anglo pigs and Scotties
Sent to colonize the North
You wave your bloody Union Jack
And you know what it's worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep Ireland for the Irish
Put the English back to sea!
Chorus
Well, it's always bloody Sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep the Falls Road free forever
From the bloody English hands
Repatriate to Britain
All of you who call it home
Leave Ireland to the Irish
Not for London or for Rome!
Chorus
29 January 2008
Come Out Ye Black and Tans
During the Anglo-Irish War (1919-1921), the British government authorized the assembly of paramilitary forces designed to quell the uprising. The more famous of these forces was the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) Reserve Force, more infamously known throughout Ireland as the "Black and Tans" because there was a shortage of police uniforms, and so items of military attire were used as supplements.
The intent of the RIC Reserve Force, established by Winston Churchill, was to target the Irish Republican Army (IRA), the Irish force spearheading the war for independence. However, the RIC Reserve Force became infamous for its repeated attacks on Irish civilians, including the November 21, 1920 "Bloody Sunday" assault at Croke Park in Dublin.
"If a police barracks is burned or if the barracks already occupied is not suitable, then the best house in the locality is to be commandeered, the occupants thrown into the gutter. Let them die there—the more the merrier.
Should the order ("Hands Up") not be immediately obeyed, shoot and shoot with effect. If the persons approaching (a patrol) carry their hands in their pockets, or are in any way suspicious-looking, shoot them down. You may make mistakes occasionally and innocent persons may be shot, but that cannot be helped, and you are bound to get the right parties some time. The more you shoot, the better I will like you, and I assure you no policeman will get into trouble for shooting any man."
-- Lt. Col. Smyth, June 1920
The brutal nature of the Black and Tans led even British citizens to petition for their recall from Ireland. To this day, "Black and Tan" or "Tan" remains a pejorative term for British in Ireland.
Dominic Behan captured the cruel nature of the Tans in his famous Republican song, "Come Out Ye Black and Tans."
Come Out Ye Black and Tans
I was born on a Dublin street
Where the Royal drums do beat
And the loving English feet they walked all over us,
And each and every night
When me da' would come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors out with this chorus:
Chorus:
Oh, come out ye black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.
Come let me hear you tell
How you slandered great Parnell,
When you fought them well and truly persecuted,
Where are the sneers and jeers
That you loudly let us hear
When our leaders of sixteen were executed?
Chorus
Come tell us how you slew
Those Arabs two by two
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely faced one
With your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.
Chorus
The day is coming fast
And the time is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,
And if there be a need
Sure my kids will sing, "Godspeed!"
With a verse or two of Stephen Beehan's chorus!
The intent of the RIC Reserve Force, established by Winston Churchill, was to target the Irish Republican Army (IRA), the Irish force spearheading the war for independence. However, the RIC Reserve Force became infamous for its repeated attacks on Irish civilians, including the November 21, 1920 "Bloody Sunday" assault at Croke Park in Dublin.
"If a police barracks is burned or if the barracks already occupied is not suitable, then the best house in the locality is to be commandeered, the occupants thrown into the gutter. Let them die there—the more the merrier.
Should the order ("Hands Up") not be immediately obeyed, shoot and shoot with effect. If the persons approaching (a patrol) carry their hands in their pockets, or are in any way suspicious-looking, shoot them down. You may make mistakes occasionally and innocent persons may be shot, but that cannot be helped, and you are bound to get the right parties some time. The more you shoot, the better I will like you, and I assure you no policeman will get into trouble for shooting any man."
-- Lt. Col. Smyth, June 1920
The brutal nature of the Black and Tans led even British citizens to petition for their recall from Ireland. To this day, "Black and Tan" or "Tan" remains a pejorative term for British in Ireland.
Dominic Behan captured the cruel nature of the Tans in his famous Republican song, "Come Out Ye Black and Tans."
Come Out Ye Black and Tans
I was born on a Dublin street
Where the Royal drums do beat
And the loving English feet they walked all over us,
And each and every night
When me da' would come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors out with this chorus:
Chorus:
Oh, come out ye black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.
Come let me hear you tell
How you slandered great Parnell,
When you fought them well and truly persecuted,
Where are the sneers and jeers
That you loudly let us hear
When our leaders of sixteen were executed?
Chorus
Come tell us how you slew
Those Arabs two by two
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely faced one
With your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.
Chorus
The day is coming fast
And the time is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,
And if there be a need
Sure my kids will sing, "Godspeed!"
With a verse or two of Stephen Beehan's chorus!
Welcome (Let the People Sing)
I was not born in Ireland, nor did I grow up there. I am "Irish-American," a term often met with skepticism by citizens of the Republic. The fact of the matter is, most Irish-Americans do not know Irish history very well, if at all. While my maternal ancestors came from County Dublin, and my paternal ones from County Clare, I was not taught Irish history as a child.
It wasn't until I enrolled at Notre Dame and was exposed to Irish music that I became interested in the history of Ireland. Something about the passion in that music ignited my interest, and I began a journey of self-education about the history of my ancestors.
It's been years since that initial discovery, but I am still learning. That's part of what this is about -- much can be learned about a country by knowing the history of its music. There is no country where this is truer than Ireland. So, as the song goes, let the people sing ...
Let the People Sing
For those who are in love
There's a song that's warm and tender.
For those who are oppressed
In song you can protest.
So liberate your minds
And give your soul expression.
Open up your hearts,
I'll sing for you this song.
Chorus:
Let the people sing their stories and their songs
And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy
So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land
Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free
Those songs of yours and of mine
It was back in ancient times,
The bard would tell his stories
Of the heroes, of the villain,
Of the chieftains in the glen.
Through Elizabethian time
And Cromwellian war and fury
Put our pipers to the sword,
Killed our harpers and our bards.
Chorus
Ireland, land of song,
Your music lives forever
In its valleys, in its mountains,
In its hills and in its glens.
Our music did survive
Through famine and oppression.
To the generations gone,
I'll sing for you this song.
It wasn't until I enrolled at Notre Dame and was exposed to Irish music that I became interested in the history of Ireland. Something about the passion in that music ignited my interest, and I began a journey of self-education about the history of my ancestors.
It's been years since that initial discovery, but I am still learning. That's part of what this is about -- much can be learned about a country by knowing the history of its music. There is no country where this is truer than Ireland. So, as the song goes, let the people sing ...
Let the People Sing
For those who are in love
There's a song that's warm and tender.
For those who are oppressed
In song you can protest.
So liberate your minds
And give your soul expression.
Open up your hearts,
I'll sing for you this song.
Chorus:
Let the people sing their stories and their songs
And the music of their native land
Their lullabies and battlecries and songs of hope and joy
So join us hand in hand
All across this ancient land
Throughout the test of time
It was music that kept their spirits free
Those songs of yours and of mine
It was back in ancient times,
The bard would tell his stories
Of the heroes, of the villain,
Of the chieftains in the glen.
Through Elizabethian time
And Cromwellian war and fury
Put our pipers to the sword,
Killed our harpers and our bards.
Chorus
Ireland, land of song,
Your music lives forever
In its valleys, in its mountains,
In its hills and in its glens.
Our music did survive
Through famine and oppression.
To the generations gone,
I'll sing for you this song.
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