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Searc's Web Guide to
19th Century Ireland - John Keegan Casey (1846-1870)
John Keegan Casey was born in Mullingar, County West Meath. In the early 1860's he became a clerk in Dublin where he joined the Fenian movement and contributed numerous popular poems to The Nation. In 1866 he published a poetry collection A Wreath of Shamrocks which contained The Rising of the Moon about the 1798 Rebellion which became a popular Fenian ballad. After the 1867 Fenian Rising Casey was imprisoned in Mountjoy Gaol where he died three years later as a result of brutal treatment he received at the hands of the prison authorities. Dr Robert MacDonnell, the prison doctor, made public Casey's extensive injuries and the Government was forced to hold a Commission of Inquiry. At Casey's funeral 50,000 people marched in solemn procession while a further 100,000 people watched his hearse pass on its way to Glasnevin Cemetery, Dublin.© AD 1798 Air - 'The Wearing of the Green' 'Oh! Then tell me, Shaun O'Ferrell, Tell me why you hurry so?' 'Hush, ma bouchal, hush and listen', And his cheeks were all aglow. 'I hear Orders from the Captain, Get you ready quick and soon, For the pikes must be together At the Risin' of the Moon'. 'Oh! Then tell me, Shaun O'Ferrell, Where the gatherin' is to be?' 'In the ould spot by the river, Right well known to you and me. One word more - for signal-token Whistle up the marchin' tune, With your pike upon your shoulder, By the Risin' of the Moon'. Out from many a mudwall cabin Eyes were watching thro' that night. Many a manly breast was throbbing For the Blessed warning light. Murmurs passed along the valleys Like the banshee's lonely croon, And a thousand blades were flashing At the Risin' of the Moon. There beside the singing river That dark mass of men was seen, Far above the shining weapons Hung their own beloved green. 'Death to ev'ry foe and traitor! Forward! Strike the marchin' time, And hurrah, my boys, for freedom! 'Tis the Risin of the Moon'. Well they fought for poor old Ireland, And full bitter was their fate (Oh! What glorious pride and sorrow Fills the name of ninety-eight). Yet, thank God, e'en still are beating Hearts in manhood's burning noon, Who would follow in their footsteps At the Risin' of the Moon! © Searc's Web Guide 1997-2008 |
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