Morning Mists

The Sun burning its way through the Mists in Mystical St Mullins South County Carlow

Holiday in Ireland

 

Submitted Sunday Independent

It’s a Great Little Country -Experience It No 25

Just messing about on the river

I was one of that gang that spent the whole year planning the summer holiday out of Ireland guaranteed sunshine, late nights, the wild life. Year after year we headed off to Spain or France never giving Ireland a thought as the idea of spending two weeks freezing on a beach with ham sandwiches was just not going to happen. My parents loved to go for the Sunday drive to Bray or up the Dublin Mountains with the flask and the sandwiches we were piled into the Volkswagen Beetle, no question of opting out and then down came the rain.

Then I discovered down river canoeing and did the same with my kids as my Dad did with us “We are going canoeing “but unlike me they took to it like ducks to water .Ireland opened up for us we went down some amazing rivers got a look into the old wealth of Ireland from the river side, camped, stayed in B&B’s, visited villages that we never knew existed. We had the gear on wet suits and shower cover, all our clothes were sealed in a barrel and so were the Hamlet cigars and the grub. In the early days we listened to the weather forecast until we learned that it didn’t matter as it seldom rains in Ireland for very long and we were well protected. Our favourite run was down The Barrow river to St Mullins which has a tow path used by the draught horse to pull the river barges in times gone by. We met fisher men and farmer’s, walkers and cyclists all dying for a chat, “Where did you start out? Where are you going?” none of them had ever been down the river and you could see the wonder, the dream in their eyes yes one day I will get in a canoe. The Barrow river tow path from Graiguenamanagh to St Mullins is one of the Wonders of the World passing through lush green farmland, water thundering over weirs, Herons squealing past and all for free. Passing by lime kilns, locks, weirs and arriving in a land that was ravaged by the Vikings and there still sits proudly on the top of the Hill a Norman Motte and Baily. This is a cyclists and walker’s paradise off road cutting through stunning scenery. Now I think we as a Nation have embraced the wonderful country that we have and the little gems which have for so many years been neglected and turned into backwaters. It is great to see all the Mums and Dads arriving at The Mullicháin Café glowing from their day by the river and the kids full of stories about their adventure, Bicycles line the walls, dogs lapping from water bowels Ahh! But still wanting to know” Is there Wi-FI here?”

 

Martin O’Brien

St Mullins Co Carlow

Review of the Mullichain Cafe

Review of The Mullichain Cafe via mobile

Magical  Tom F

The leprechaun is said to be a solitary creature, whose principal occupation is making and mending shoes, and who enjoys practical jokes and banter. According to William Butler Yeats, the great wealth of these fairies comes from the "treasure-crocks, buried of old in war-time", which they have uncovered (at the end of an elusive rainbow) and appropriated. Over the years leprechauns have evolved and adapted with variations founds in different parts of Ireland. One of the most significant evolutionary presence in Ireland is the infamous MULLICHAIN still a practical joker, still mischievous and still dressed in green (albeit polo shirts) and can be found settled in The picturesque village of St Mullins County Carlow. They no longer make shoes but welcome the weary travelers and walkers to their den now commonly referred to as the MULLICHAIN CAFE. Disguised within the walls of an old mill serving great food with a loud Mullichain welcome. The Chief of the legendary Mullichains Martin O’Brien and the Mullichain clan of Emer and Mark occupy this great establishment amongst antiquities from the fabled Mullichain clan. The menu contains good food with weird names, the Glynn, The Drummond, the Newtown named after the many Mullichain outposts dotted through the Barrow Vally. 

Inside filled with laughter and banter as the Chief Of the Mullichains entertains the unwitting guests as they sip great coffee, Barry’s Tea or fine Wine. A sublime experience. Outside one will hear the singing birds with at times a sound of what appears more fitting to the Jurassic era. Some Say it just a heron but no. It’s far more than a big grey bird it’s the chant of the Mullichain warrior. The MULLICHAIN CAFE - not an experience it’s an adventure. Visit it

First Daffs 2021

First Daffs up Down on the Quay St Mullins South County Carlow R95XY93 

Ireland's Crazy Horse

 

Ireland’s Crazy Horse   No 24

Art MacMorrough

Crazy Horse was the chieftain that killed General Custard at the battle of Little Big Horn, another guy fighting for his homelands.

Art kept the English out of his territory and like Crazy Horse at the Battle of little big Horn he out foxed his enemy the invading English.The native Irish began to regain some of their former territories from the English in the 14^th century this was primarily due to Art Mac Morrough Kavanagh(1357-1417), who became King of Leinster in 1377.  Art claimed to be a direct descendent of Diarmaid Mac Morrough(Who brought the Normans into Ireland) through some illegitimate son and therefore his right  to the kinship of  the Leinster .No DNA then.!

Art was credited as the man that gave most trouble during the reign of Richard II (from 1377 to 1399) . He married the daughter of Maurice Fitzgerald fourth Earl of Kildare; where- upon the English authorities seized the lady’s vast estates, in as much as she had violated the Statute of Kilkenny by marrying a Mere Irishman. In addition to this, his black rent-eighty marks a year-was for some reason stopped, soon after the accession of Richard II. (Black rent, rent paid by the English to the local King for land they occupied) Exasperated by these proceedings, he devastated and burned many districts in the counties of Wexford, Kilkenny, Carlow, and Kildare; till the Dublin council were at last forced to pay him his Black rent, no messing with this lad.

Meantime Ireland had been going from bad to worse; the Irish kicking back all over the place and at last the king Richard II resolved to come over himself with an overwhelming- force, hoping thereby to overawe the whole country into submission. He made great preparations for this expedition; and on the 2nd of October, 1394, attended by many of the English nobles, he landed at Waterford with an army of 34,000 men, the largest force ever yet brought to the shores of Ireland this guy wasn’t taking any chances with the mad Irish.

As soon as Mac Morrough heard of this, far from showing any signs of fear, he swept down on New Ross, then a flourishing English settlement strongly walled, burned the town, and brought away a vast quantity of booty.  When the king and his army marched north from Waterford to Dublin, he harassed them on the way after his usual fashion, attacking them from the woods and bogs killing the poor auld Kings soldiers in great numbers.

The Irish chiefs however saw that submission was inevitable as they did not have the armies of the English and they were not a united force. At a place called Ballygorry, near Carlow, Mowbray Earl of Nottingham received the submission of several of the southern chiefs amongst them MacMorrough, (The most dreaded of all)

In a letter to the Duke of York, the English Regent King Richard II describes the Irish people as of three classes-Irish savages or enemies; Irish rebels (Colonists in rebellion); and English subjects;

But this magnificent and expensive expedition produced no useful result whatever. As for the sub- mission and reconciliation of the Irish Chiefs, it was all pure sham. They did not look upon King Richard as their lawful sovereign he was another chancer king from across the water and as to the promises, since they had been extorted by force, they did not consider themselves bound to keep them.

Art was poisoned 1417 at New Ross. He was buried at St. Mullins, South County Carlow; you can visit his tombstone at the rear of the Abbeys

Author Martin O’Brien

The Mullichain Cafe Gang

Himalayan Balsam St Mullins

 

Himalayan Balsam on The Barrow River No 23

Himalayan Balsam! Ok! Ok! it’s an invasive species but sure what isn’t these days between Asian clams in the river Barrow and Japanese knot weed up the road, Grey squirrels in Bahana Wood, bussard’s in the sky and this last couple of years we hear the mating Tap Tap of the Woody Wood pecker. As the name suggests Himalayan Balsam comes from Himalayas and was brought into the country in the 1830s. Many of these plants like Rhododendron were brought into the wealthy estates to adorn their private gardens and have since gone wild, like the natives. Who brought in the Rabbits was it those dastardly Normans? and the grey squirrel they say he was brought into Ireland as present in for a Big house wedding in County Longford. As far back as 1789 the British were bringing plants back from the South Pacific on ships like the Bounty captained by William Bligh, he got his come uppance when the crew mutinied. The crew of the Bounty threw all his breadfruit plants over board and went off into the sunset with their women from Tahiti.

St Mullins is a very international spot buried in the Mystical Barrow River Valley. When you walk up river in the summer in St Mullins there is a beautiful display of pink flowers adding great colour which is just stunning and it’s been there as long as anyone can remember .The wise men say it arrived in Ireland in 1830’s .The Locals say it arrived with wheat from Manitoba and Saskatchewan in Canada when Odlum’s the millers were importing grain, but does  it really matter .It has all kind of names Himalayan Balsam, Indian Balsam, Jumping Jack ,Policeman’s Helmet and of course the botanical name” Impatiens Glandulifera” and it has a second or is it third cousin called Busy Lissie, everyone is related around here.

Now the Himalayan Balsam is loved by the Bee keepers because it flowers late and is a wonderful source of nectar for the bees allowing them to make a very rich honey. It is wonderful to watch the Bees moving from plant to plant oblivious that anyone is watching.

The flowers can be used in salads as an edible flower decoration and frozen in ice cubes for summer drinks giving great colour and the hollow stalks can be used as straws, now there is one for saving the environment no more plastic and definitely biodegradable. We have become accustomed to buying everything in the supermarket and our knowledge of the food and plants around us is fast disappearing.

The children can have great fun with the seed pods if they hold them gently and close their hand the warmth of their hand with make them explode great fun and it doesn’t cost a penny. In March the back water is full of Frog spawn turning into tadpoles as the days become warmer in April. Over the summer little frogs can be seen jumping about in the shallow taters behind the Indian Balsam. There are so many birds and animals on the river Barrow for the youngsters to enjoy, water hens and ducks, tree creepers, cormorants, otters they are all there. Amongst the Balsam the Yellow Iris or Flag stand proudly above the Water Lilly’s. Just sit on the bank and be patient, “No programme No agenda, No iPhone.”

The Himalayan Balsam turns St Mullins and the Barrow River into a sea of pink for the summer, its Mystical.

Freney The Robber

FRENEY THE ROBBER NO 22

Just to be clear the idea of a Dick Turpin or a Robin hood or our man Freney being good guys is pure myth. They were scurrilous thief’s that have been glorified in the story books. In the 18th century the only way to get around was on horseback or in your horse drawn carriage. These were dangerous times no mobile phone to call the garda and no patrol cars to track the robbers down and definitely no CCTV .In Ireland many of these highway men were given shelter by the locals as they saw the law men as hench men of the British occupiers .Carlow and Kilkenny had  James Freney the robber who in the end wrote his own book about his escapades .He was born in a place called Ballyduff outside Inistioge where his parents worked on a local landlords estate .He was well educated and given every opportunity by the landlords wife who had a soft spot for him,  but he wasn’t interested. He was a feckless type of character who was into anything but work, gambling horse racing women were his preference. He used the church tower in St Mullins to hide out where he could see the red coats coming from all directions. He ended up getting married to Alice Phelan the house maid from the house where he was reared, was it for love or maybe it was for his wife’s dowery which allowed him to open up his own pub in Waterford. But sure, he couldn’t agree with anyone and as work wasn’t his thing the venture failed.

Freney was now in debt after the pub went bust so he joined up with a well know robber John Reddy of the kelly Mount gang.  Starting his career as a thief and highway man in 1740s, he was infamous for his treat when he stopped a carriage brandishing his pistols “hand over your valuables or I’ll blow your brains out “. now he never carried out his treat and was said to behave as a gentleman in very many ways. His gang of robbers took off into the night breaking into the houses of the wealthy his reign of terror lasted about four or five years. Freney was a clever thief and evaded capture for many years robbing houses, coaches anywhere a bit of wealth was showing Freney sniffed it out. He had the reputation of being a fair man in that he didn’t steal from the poor, just the well healed but sure the poor of Ireland had nothing to steal.It is interesting how these fiends like Freney gained the reputation for being nice to the poor folklore has a lot to answer for. he loved the old estate houses plenty of gold plate and silver. many a time he was chased by the red coats and buried his haul around Brandon hill so he wouldn’t be caught with it. There is a stone chair on the tow path between St Mullins and Graignamanagh where he is reputed to have sat looking up at Brandon trying to remember where he had buried the loot.

 As I mentioned before the church tower in St Mullins was one of Freneys favourite hiding places as he could see all the surrounding lands and make his escape sometimes across the Barrow River he is said to have been gallant towards women and would never rob one. If caught Freney faced the hang man as the British penal laws in Ireland showed no mercy well unless you betrayed your fellow gang members which is what our brave hero did all his pals were hanged, what a pal he was. He survived into old age and was one of the few Irish highwaymen men to avoid the noose. Freney did a deal with the chief justice that allowed him to emigrate, it seems that the authorities were afraid to hang him for fear that he would become a folk hero and incite further local violence.

local land marks with Freneys name attached to them are still there today, Freneys chair Freneys rock, Freneys well and also his autobiography “The life and adventures of Mr James Freney”

BOLD CAPTAIN FRENEY

 One morning as, I being free from care,

I rode abroad to take the air,

'Twas my fortune for to spy

A jolly Quaker riding by;

CHORUS: And it's oh, bold Captain Freney!

Oh, bold Freney, oh!

Said the Quaker—"I'm very glad

That I have met with such a lad;

There is a robber on the way,

Bold Captain Freney, I hear them say."

 "Captain Freney I disregard,

Although about me I carry my charge;*

Because I being so cunning and cute,

It's where I hide it's within my boot."

. Says the Quaker—"It is a friend

His secret unto me would lend;

I'll tell you now where my gold does lie—

I have it sewed beneath my thigh."

As we rode down towards Thomastown,

Bold Freney bid me to 'light down.

"Kind sir, your breeches you must resign;

Come, quick, strip off, and put on mine,

[CHORUS:] For I am bold Captain Freney," &c.

 Says the Quaker, "I did not think

That you'd play me such a roguish trick

As my breeches I must resign,

I think you are no friend of mine."

 As we rode a little on the way,

We met a tailor dressed most gay;

I boldly bid him for to stand,

Thinking he was some gentleman.

 Upon his pockets I laid hold—

The first thing I got was a purse of gold;

The next thing I found, which did me surprise,

Was a needle, thimble, and chalk likewise.

 "Your dirty trifle I disdain."

With that I returned him his gold again.

"I'll rob no tailor if I can—

I'd rather ten times rob a man."**

 It's time for me to look about;

There's a proclamation just gone out;

There's fifty pounds bid on my head,

To bring me in alive or dead.

Author Unknown

Go on let me in!

I'll be Gooood Please let me in! It was the Other fella!

The Irish Draught Horse 3

The  Irish Draught Horses of St Mullins No 21

The Irish canal transport system depended on the Irish Draught horse to pull large loads of merchandise all across the country. The term “work horse” really did apply to these lad’s with their calm and reliable nature they just plodded along taking on all kinds of tasks. Most small farms had their draught horse as he was a jack of all trades. He pulled the plough through the fields and the hay cocks into the hay barn at harvest. Pulling was his task in life the cart with the family to mass on Sunday and dad to the pub of an evening. They provided manure to help the potatoes grow as that was the stable diet of the Irish peasant and most of the Irish were peasants with the English being the ruling class. 

 In St Mullins and all along the inland water ways he was the king of transport the lad that everyone relied from 1760 on until the arrival of the Bolinder diesel engine 1920 he was the power of river transport.

The Draught horses had their own station and forge in St Mullins and plenty to eat in the surrounding fields they pulled the barges as far as Graiguenamanagh. When there wasn’t a barge coming the other way, they were walked back at a leisurely pace by some young fellow who wasn’t at school. What a wonderful pace of life, a time to dream. 

The Steam tug usually towed three wooden barges up from the port of  Newross to St Mullins and depending on the load one or two horses were hitched up for the tow .There is a wonderful clip from Pathe News on Utube called “Turf cutting Ireland “that shows how the horse leans on the rope attached to the barge and once it’s on the move there is little strain. They also worked the mill farm and provided transport to the nearest village and town making deliveries of flour and feed for farm animals. On one of the uprights in the Mullicháin Café we have saved one of the horse shoes which was found when the Old forge was being renovated and a Mighty foot he had.

Irish Draught Horses were bred as a working horse on Irish farms they were economical, surviving on grass and gorse, and on any boiled turnips, oats and bran left over from cattle feed. Due to the small size of farm holdings in Ireland at the time most farmers could not afford to keep more than one horse and as a result Irish breeder developed an adaptable draught horse capable of carrying out all of the work on the farm as well as being used for riding, hunting and driving. Consequently, the breed developed to be extremely versatile and intelligent with an excellent temperament and willing nature. The breed originated from the Irish Hobby horse, a small ambling horse with many similarities to the primitive Garrano and Sorraia horses of Northern Spain and Portugal. The Irish domesticated the horse as far back as 2000 BC so the archaeologists tell us and sure who are we “mere mortals” to argue.

Their use in the Great War by the British military led to large losses, eight million horses, donkeys and mules died between 1914-1918 and many were Irish. The British made compulsory purchases of Irish draught horse taking so many as to nearly wipe out the breed. The mechanization of the 20th century saw a decline in draught horse’s traditional use as farm and carriage horses and where nearly every farm had its own horse now it is the exception.

I can remember on my uncles Jonnies farm in Ballyknockane near Clonmel sitting on top of the hay cock as it was pulled by Paddy that was their horse across 3 fields to the hay barn where a gang of men forked all the hay up by hand. That was the time when farm workers moved from farm to farm taking in the harvest and sitting down at lunch time to big plates of spuds and hairy bacon. Getting up on Paddy’s back was a great treat for city kids you could fit a gang of kids on his back it was so wide and riding off for miles to the Anner river that’s in Co Tipperary for a swim, no parental supervision great days and still alive to tell the tale  

Mr Steins swept the roads delivered coal to our door and manure for my dad’s roses and spuds. His horse just made his way down the road when Mr Steins gave a whistle, he moved another six feet and when he reached the village of Clondalkin the horse ambled across the road to the horse trough for a drink and when he was ready ambled back into position no traffic to worry about and of course horses had the right of way then.

Would love to a see a revival of the Draught Horse on the farms.