chuir na Sasanaigh an toir air ab ea anRianach. Ba thogha saighdiura e.Throid se le hais an tSairsealaigh le linnUigear Luirnni. Nuair a bhriseadh ar naGaeil sa deireadh, Mach, nior lean sePddraig Sdirseal agus na sluaite eile chunna Fraince. D'fhan se sa bhaile, e fos ara choirnead, ar ndoigh, oir bhi anaimhde ar a thoir i gconai. Lean se leisag baint riar a choda amach mar ropaire,direach mar an rinne Gal/oping O'Hoganagus go leor eile. Ropaire cinealta a bhiann. Ni dhearna se aon chreach riamhar na Gaeil na ar dhaoine bochta cumaGaeil no Gaill iad - in ionad san is amhlaidhgur chabhraigh se go fial leo gommlC. Ach thug se faoi shliocht nabplanndoid, lucht na maoine agus anrachmais, ads agus aris eile agus is iomaimallacht a chuir siad air. Rinneadh feallair, faraoir, sa deireadh. Gaol le is fein ashanntaigh an t-airgead fola (£200) abhi a thairiscint ag na hUdarais ghallda,thainig se ar an Rianach agus e ina chodladhgm mharaigh se go cladhartha e.Ni raibh moran thar 30 bliain saraitheag Eamon bocht airnsir a bhciis.Maireann cuirnhne Eamoinn Vi Riainsan amhran fior-alainn ud "Eamon a'Chnoic". Ce go bhfuilidh ann a gceapanngurbhe Eamon fein a chum ant-amhrcin, Mach rinne se no si go rimhaithe. Ta "Eamon a' Chnoic" archeann de sheoda ar litriochta:Ce he sin amuigh a bhfuil faobhar ar aghuthAg reabadh mo dhoras dunta?Mise Eamon a' Chnoic atd bdite fuair/liucho shiorshiUl sleibhte a's gleannta.A lao dhil 's a chuid, cad a dheanfainnseduit Muna gcuirfinn ort beinn dem'ghilna,'S go bhfuil pudar to tiubh dd shiorsheideadhleat,'S go mbeimis araon muctha.A chumann 's a shearc, raghaimidne sealFa choillte na measa gcumhra,Mar a bhfaighimid an breac 's an Ion ar aneadAn fia 'gus an poc ag buireach;Na heinini binne ar gheigini a' seinm,Is an cuaichin ar bhdrr an iilir ghlais;Go brach brach ni thiocfaidh an bas inarngoirelIar na coille cumhra.GALLOPING O'HOGANFear eile a sheas an fod in einneachtle Padraig Sdirseal aimsir CFear eile a sheas an fod in einneachtle Padraig Sairseal airnsir Chogaidh anDa Ri na an te eachtach ud a bhfuil aainm saite go daingean i mbealoideasagus i sheanchas Cho. Thiobraid Arann,Galloping O'Hogan. B'as tuaisceart anchontae don bganach agus beidhcuimhne go deo ar an gcaoi arthreoraigh se an Sliirsealach agus achomradaithe go Beal Atha an Fhaoitighmar ar scrios siad stor lonchogaidh AirmLiam. Mar adeir Denis A. McCarthy:And Galloping O'Hogan, Ireland's fieryheartedson,Twas he by many a highway led us confidentlyon.Nuair a d'irnigh an Sairsealach agus achuid saighdiuid chun na Fraince,d'fhan an tbganach sa bhaile d'aonghnochun an choimhlint a choinneail ar siulin eadan na nGall. Rinne se iad achreachadh agus a chrci aris eile. Agusnior eirigh leis na Sasanaigh riamh e ach 10 I.Teresa Bray ton, an bhean cheirniuilGhaelach ud a chum "The Old BogRoad" agus amhrciin agus danta ailleeile, sCrlobh si roinnt vearsai briomhairefaoi Galloping O'Hogan:Hear you these ghostly hoof-beats ringDown the valley and up the height -Is it for Sarsfield or the kingGalloping Hogan rides tonightYzCraven JaHear you these ghostly hoof-beats ringDown the valley and up the height -Is it for Sarsfield or the kingGalloping Hogan rides tonight?Craven James is ashes and dust,Throne forgotten and dreams laid by;Sarsfield, keeper of Erin's trust,Lies in a grave under Belgium 's sky.Heavy the cloud over Limerick town,Broken the walls once scarred by war,Jacobite sword and Williamite crown,One with yesterday's causes are;But with thundering hoof-beats fierceand fleet,Night by night till the edge of dawn,By lonely valley and hill retreatGalloping Hogan still rides on.The Wild Get!se - God give their spiritspeacel -Long have lowered their dauntless crest,But the noblest of all the Rapparees,Galloping Hogan takes no rest ;Where Shannon tosses its surging tides,And Keeper Mountain stands dark andgrim,Adown the centuries still he rides,Guarding the land that was life to him.There is chance enough through eternityFor a man to be taking his easeful fill ,But no rest will be for this RappareeWhile his struggling country needs himstill ;It was here he battled and here he diedAnd here he'll be when the last trumpblows,Galloping Hogan, the true and triedWho never went back on his friends -or foes.So, neither for Sarsfied nor the king,Down the valley and up the height,Galloping Hogan's hoof-beats ring,'Tis only for Erin he rides tonight,Keeping the souls of her sons awake,Holding the pass till a nearing dawnSees the last of her fetters break,Galloping Hogan still rides on.AN BHANTlARNA IVEAGHAch ma bhi corrlaoch ar nos anbganaigh fos ag seasamh an fhoid ineadan na nGall ag tus an 18u cheid, niamhlaidh a bhi an sceal sa tir td cheile.I gCo . Thiobraid Aeann, ach go hairithe,ait a bhi na peindlithe i bhfeidhm gohuile agus go hiomlan, bhi na daoine asciurseail de 10 . a's d'oiche. Bhi nasagairt ar a gcoimead, iad ag maireachtailfaoi cheilt , sealgairi Shasana ar adtoir i gconai, an tAifreann a cheiliuradhfaoi bhun na gcarraigreacha in aiteannaiargulta. Ba bhocht agus babhaolach an saol e do na sagairt. Achbhi corrdhaoine gustalacha fos sa tir abhi sasta teacht i gcabhair orthu agus ansean-chreideamh a choinneail slansabhailte. Duine de na daoine seo ab eaan Bhantiama Iv eagh , a bhi ar cheannde na mna b'uaisle agus ba naofa amhair ri.amh i gCo . Thiobraid Arann.Biodh gur rugadh an bhean seo i gCo .an Gaillimhe agus gur chaith si treimhsei gCuige Uladh, is i gCilI Chais faoi bhunShliabh na mBan a chaith si formh6rmor a saoil. Mairead de Bllrca b'ainmdf,b'inion 1 leis an [arIa Chlann Riocaird,agus rugadh i in 1665 . Phos siBrian Mac Aonghusa, an chead Bhlo-34
TEARS FOR A KINGThe method of driving pit poniesunderground has to be adapted to theconstriction of space and other prevailingconditions. The driver sat, it couldalmost be called 'half-riding', sideways,with one cheek of his backside on thelimbers and with his body stretched outover the animal's back, so that he couldguide it, talk to it and, at any time, beready to leap off, if the wheels of thetub got off the rails after hitting a stoneperhaps. All of this had to be done atthe same time as cross-girders wereguarded against from skinning every'knuckle' of the vertabrae down thedriver's own back as he was borne,naked to the waist, swiftly along mereinches below the roof.Punch struck out powerfully withhis hooves seeking purchase on thesleepers, muscles rippling, collarcreaking as the leather draughts tookthe strain.. His shoes struck. sparks outof the stone floor as he lurchedirresistably forward - and this despitethree full tubs behind him. After awhile the wild career slowed to a powerful,steady pull against the gradient. Atlast he stopped, . shaking and bathed insweat, foam dripping from his mouth.That was the moment of triumphfor my father. The house was won andhis fame as a breaker of horses was ashigh as it could ever be. But all he feltwas sadness. This barbarous, devilishlife which had compelled him who lovedhorses to break the spirit of this king ofits kind was more a cause of grief to himthan exultation. He laid his head on theanimal's neck and his shoulders shook asthe hot tears came and carved whitestreaks down the glistening coaldust onhis face.32
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