The’Buckeen’ Daly’s wake & funeral were a triumph. His widow is delighted. Everyone is looking forward to Saturday’s fair where the final part of the funeral celebrations will play out. ‘Mouldy’ Farrell has challenged the Tiernan’s to a fight and they have accepted #FactionFight
‘Mouldy’ has sent his three sons to round up the cousins, in-laws, friends, clients who he had dug graves for, and everyone who loves fighting; the message “Be at the green for twelve, bring a stick’. #FactionFight
There is a suspicious silence from the Tiernan’s side. Indeed they seem to have gone missing. The Farrells are increasingly confident “they are not called the ‘cowardly Tiernan’s’ for nothing” smirks Mouldy Farrell #FactionFight
As Saturday approaches, there isn’t a branch left on a tree. Bottles of ‘medicine’ (aka poteen) have been stored in strategic places. The police have been placed on high alert and still no Tiernan’s #FactionFight
On Saturday morning the village is buzzing. Cattle stroll down the street waiting to be sold (or bought), a few pigs are in the back of a cart with similar expectations. Sheep seem to be everywhere. Huxters, chancers, tricksters on the lookout for the gullible #FactionFight
The pubs and whisky tents are filling up - it is half nine in the morning. The lad from the funeral has found his tin whistle and gives a few shrill blasts. A poet - revered in Irish society - is ignored. The country people are enjoying the morning #FactionFight
Some lads start set dancing on the road “yis were at the ‘medicine’ lads”. The parish priest - fresh from his funerary truimph against the keening women, walks solemnly up and down the street guarding against scandal. #FactionFight
The ‘Pinkeen’ Gorman is dressed in his good funeral suit and is looking gorgeous. There seems to be a lot of police around. The police sergeant has his best uniform on, while the local magistrate has established a pop-up court in Mulligans pub. No Tiernan’s yet #FactionFight
There’s music and craic, horses being sold and cows and sheep - business is brisk. There’s no sign of the owner of the pigs- someone said he is in Mulligans. There’s a great cheer from the east side of the village. It’s the ‘Mouldy’ Farrells men about 200 of them #FactionFight
Led by a drummer, the ‘Mouldy’ is in battle dress. A nice new waistcoat, knee length breeches, hobnailed boots and a hat stuffed with straw. In his hand the famous shelliligh ‘Bas gan Sagart’ - ‘Death without a priest’. “Long life to ya Mouldy”. #FactionFight
The head at once to the whisky tents. Fighting talk fills the air. Loud, incoherent curses and frightful oaths. Phrases that are difficult to understand are heard like “wallop the head off him” and “skull like an eggshell” “Van Demensland” are heard #FactionFight
The sound of whistles from the west. The Tiernan’s - about 200 of them. Dressed in thier brand new torn vests - “here comes the Shanavest Tiernan’s” said someone “Yahoo” yells ould Tiernan waving the blanket over his head. A gesture calculated to infuriate Mouldy #FactiinFiggt
“Bad luck to ya Tiernan” roars Mouldy as he jumps from the crowd. Some of them pretend to hold him back. He strides up and down in front of his men - he’s a mighty sight - muscles and veins bulging ‘Bas gan Sagart’ waving above his head, his coat trailing behind him #FactionFight
It is clear that the Tiernan’s had been at the ‘medicine’ too. “Remember 39” yells Tiernan referring to the Night of the Big Wind when Mouldy’s father’s blanket got blown into Tiernan’s yard. “Who’s man enough to take me jacket” roars Mouldy #FactionFight
Ould Tiernan steps from the ranks of the Shanavests. Mouldy steps forward “Bas gan Sagart” whirling threateningly. The crowd inhale deeply when Tiernan produces his own shillileigh, the awful and fatal “Brown Mouse”. The circle rack other cautiously #FactionFight
The sergeant, the magistrate, the Borekeen and the parish priest take their seats on the platform specially erected for the occasion. The keening women, sensing some extra business sit on the steps. The strongboys are conspicuously absent #FactionFight
At last Mouldy and ould Tiernan exchange a couple of stinging blows. This is the signal for both sides to pile in. The ‘Pinkeen’ Gorman has had four glasses of ‘medicine’. He seems a bit distracted - perhaps in love. Oblivious, he wanders carelessly towards the green #FactioFight
It was just at that moment 200 Farrells thunder across the green. It was just at thstmoment that 200 Tiernan’s thunder towards them. The ‘Pinkeen’ looks up .. too late.. The last thing Pinkeen remembers when he wakes up four days later is the sound of horses hooves #FactionFight
The sergeant gives the nod. Two dozen police rush in and grab Mouldy and haul him off before anyone knows what has happened. All hell breaks loose. Lads jump into the river, some lads have lept over the wall. Everyone is rushing about hitting the nearest thing #FactionFight
The day was long remembered. Mouldy was ‘transported’ to Australia. Pinkeen made a full recovery. The keening women were disappointed. The Borekeen sacked his strongboys and hired some Tiernan’s. A hugely successful day. The pigs remained unsold #FactionFight
Join me here tomorrow night for more folklore from 19th century Ireland #IrishFolklore
