Oh! It was Blarney
I came from across the Irish Sea in 1953, to land in Dunleary, on a visit to Ireland wanting to see for myself what makes the Irish tick and see why they have attained such heights away from their homeland. Not only have they gained stature in the political world but also in medicine, art, music, engineering, science and other fields. I came so I might understand the Irish people better.
My introduction to Blarney was a visit to the famed castle. The place is simply enchanting! The ‘Old Ruin’, half covered with ivy and bits of green velvety moss is wrapped in beauty and romance. As I climbed the narrow stairs to the turret where the ‘Blarney Stone’ is embedded, I tried to imagine the castle in the days of the McCarthy of Muskerry, circa fourteen hundred.
Of course, I did the ‘kissing act’ and as I was trying to rise from my supine position, a merry, blue-eyed lad was saying, “Tis said, and I believe it, that your wish does not come true unless, when you arise, you kiss the first Irishman you see – and I am Irish.” (This is Cork dialect). What would you have done if you had wanted your wish to come true?
But Blarney has more than the Castle. Adjacent to it is the magnificent Rock Close. We would like to think it has been there since time immemorial. Forgotten passageways and tunnels in its dark recesses probably lead to the mystery-shrouded, bottomless Blarney Lake. Is a great treasure hidden in its deep waters? What tense dramas were enacted in days long past? Here, too, Druids of old may have reigned. They practised the art of healing with mistletoe. This plant was endowed with magic power. Using a golden sword and enacting a great ceremony full of symbolism, the Druids sough this rare gift. When a spray was found, the air was rent with a shout of “all heal”. Great oaks can still be seen near the Rock Close. The mistletoe being a parasite flourished on the oak. Perhaps these very oaks have sprung from the ancient ones. Nearby Yews and Ilexes, green and vigorous date from early times. Even today one’s imagination makes way for the weaving of fantastic tales full of superstition, fancy or reality. Who knows where fact begins and fancy ends? Here is a spot where dwell intriguing elves, fairies, ’Little People’ and Leprechauns.
About one mile from Blarney is a charming Country Inn – St. Ann’s Hydro. Here I stayed for a few days and learned much. I met a distinguished lady from Dublin who was also a guest who had guessed this was my first visit to Ireland. “Did I see The Book of Kells?” I had just been to Dublin but had not seen this rare treasure. She informed me that this book is a Latin copy in vellum of the Four Gospels done in manuscript by monks of the Early Era. “Would I like to know about 6th century schools?” I was eager to learn. She said, “Students lived in simple houses and when their teacher came out, they would gather about him. From the time of St. Patrick, Ireland became the most learned place in Europe – The Island of Saints and Scholars.” I was fascinated. How little I knew. Here was set the model for our present universities.
Then one evening we all went to a social gathering in the grounds of the Hotel. After the usual pleasantry, the conversation turned to topics of Irish history, that any visitor would certainly find interesting. Did I know that Sir Walter Raleigh was given 42.000 acres of land near here, (Cork and Waterford) and that Edmund Spenser had 12,000 acres right in Cork proper? The followed bits and pieces of heart-rending tales, describing a time when the Irish were exposed to all sorts of Penal Laws and hardships. They were depressed by poverty and scourged by pestilence and disease. Those who had the means fled. This appalling state continued from year to year. During the time of Queen Elizabeth of England, Ireland was probably at its lowest ebb. Men, women and children perished by the thousands. Many fled to the bogs to eke out a scanty existence.
Under Cromwell (about 1650) came death and starvation and conditions were even more desperate. For the Irish it was ‘to hell or to Connaught’. People who would not follow the imposed laws were forbidden to teach or send their children to school. Later there came into being the ‘Hedge Schools’ where children were taught in barns or hidden cottages with someone posted as ‘lookout’. Hedge Schools still existed in the early 19th century and produced many brilliant scholars. No clergy were permitted by law but some remained in disguise or in hiding moving about secretly from place to place. No land could be purchased and a valuable horse could be taken by a planter for 30 shillings, no matter how much it was worth. I could hardly bear to hear any more. A fellow guest handed me a book by Edmund Spenser and opening it, I read just one paragraph:
“From woods and glynnes came forth on hands, for the legges could not beare them, the wretched people and if they found a patch of water-cress or shamrock, there they flocked as if to a feast.”
At this point I was truly weighed down with man’s inhumanity to man. I must have looked tragic because someone said: “I’ll bet you don’t know what an ‘undertaker’ is.” Of course I knew, – but I was wrong. Land confiscated in Ireland was given to foreign adventurers and these men were known as ‘undertakers.’ They seem to be well named. Is it not a miracle that the entire people did not perish?
This excerpt was taken from an article by Betty Zino Hirsch and published in The Blarney Magazine in 1953. She was a resident of New York and a teacher in Greenacres School in Scarsdale, New York. She was a frequent contributor to The Schools Arts Magazine and the New York State Education Journal. She was a visitor to Blarney in 1953 and stayed at St. Ann’s Hydro.
