The Mayo ConspiracyPeter Carr
5-4-‘38(1)
In Crossmolina we were brought up,
Six heroes of great fame,
True sons of dear old Granuaile
Who did adore the name,
To join the Fenian Brotherhood,
Bad landlord’s to destroy,
And its now our hearts are breaking,
In the prison of Mountjoy.(2)
There is a great informer,
And Coleman is his name,
A disgrace to all his countrymen,
And his friends they are all the same,
He strained his nerves both night and day,
And was made a public show,
On the swearing of his countrymen,
In the County of Mayo.(3)
The day we stood our trial
It was a mournful sight,

To see the sons of ould Granuaile,
Surrounded left and right,
For the Fenians in the County Cork,
It’s there they did him show,
And they cheered for Crossmolina,
A town in Sweet Mayo.(4)
Bold Mc Cawley appear,
With Daly and the rest,
He told his lordship from the Dock,
For to try and do his best,
For he wished to make a speech,
But Lawson: he said “no”
And they cheered for Crossmolina,
A town in Sweet Mayo.(5)
There is another hero,
And Nally is his name,
Likewise Peter Munnelly,
Is actually the same,
He would not turn informer,
To cause either grief or woe,
Or swear upon his countrymen,
From the County of Mayo.

Who is this Michael Davitt
That caused me all this weal.
They say he is an Irishman
A son of Granuaile
To the tenantry of Ireland
A messenger he sent
Saying, "Are you going to starve yourselves,
And pay this man rack-rent."
II
My agents had some useful men
They called them their land jobbers
They used to take evicted farms
They call them now land grabbers
I wonder are they dead and gone
I know they did some harm
But we cannot live without them now
They always took the farm
III
From that to this I'm in a rage
I don't know what to do
My carriage and pair I had to part
And my London mansion too
I cannot appear in public
I look so wretched and blue

our brave boys did not fail.
Till we showed the scum,
We were the sons of poor old
Granuaile.
(6)If you were to see our Irish
boys,
When the balls began to fly,
They did not discommode us,
Sure they only passed us by,
We fought them on courageously
Of men we had but few,
to see them fall,
you would compare it,
To the plain of Waterloo.
(7)Fifty pounds upon the ground,
They fired at our men,
But fortune well had favoured
us,
They could not pierce our skin.
At our night side we had a
guide,

It was early the next morning, just by the break of day
One hundred strong we marched along without either stop or stay
Each man had a blackthorn stick he brought from Paddy's land
And a hook that shone like polished steel or silver, on his hand
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For three long days we tramped away high wages for to find
And on the following evening we got on the railway line
Some navvies they walked up to us and loudly they did rail
They cursed and damned the Paddies and the sons of Granuaile
__________________
Then up stepped Barney Rielly and says "what do you mean"?
Sure don't we work as well as you and well we have the name
So leave our way without delay or some of you shall fall
For here stands the sons of Irishmen who never feared a brawl"!
__________________
It's those navvies cursed and swore they'd kill us everyone
Make us remember "98" Ballinamuck and Slieve na mBán
Brave Fr. Murphy just and true they cursed his holy name;
Which caused our Irish tempers to bust into a flame
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Then up stepped Barney Rielly and knocked the ganger down
It's then stones and bricks they came in showers from all around
We fought from half-past four until the sun was going to set
Till Rielly cries "my Irish boys, I fear we will be bet"
__________________
"But come with me my countrymen renew the fight once more"
We saw the foes from every side more desperate than before

Local SongsThe Shades of Cloverhill
I
Ye genius of this nation
And ye poets of this globe
I hope you'll pay attention
To those short lines I enfold
Concerning sons to Irish Pat
Who never yet did fail
But will agree in loyalty
Like sons to Granuaile
II
On the 13 of October the year of '43
In a quiet grove where I did rove
Some pleasure for to see
In a quiet shade where I sat down
For to employ my quill
To praise the famous meeting
That was held at Cloverhill
III
This glorious sight did me invite
Its praises to entol
Its lofly plains and meadows green

Ah, you sons of Granuaile
Now to remind you of the Gael,
And to let you see our spirits are not going down
Now my voice I'm going to raise
Just to sing a verse in praise
Of our hurling team, the boys of Adamstown
(II)Ah, yes, thou gallant men
Are on top this year again;
But some ago 'twas rumoured they had given up
Well, sure Father Wheeler said
He would wish they would go ahead
And stick the job until they won the cup.
(III)Well, no sooner said than done,
For the boys 'twas only funm,
And well the priest, too, knew he had a team
Of men that would not fret
Or care a pin what teams they met,
He knew Adamstown would always sweep the green.
(IV)Well, now, just to let you hear
Whom they played and beat this year,
And do not think I want to brush them up,
But I'd like to sing their praise
And wish them long bright happy days
To sing/enjoy (?) the honour of their cup.
(V)Now first the Beachers, dressed in red,
And round Wexford town 'twas said
They would lick and play around young Adamstown
But when they tried, without doubt,
They got hurled inside out,
And that is all the honour they could crown
(VI)Now Wexford next was run (?)
And no doubt a splendid team
Who thought themselves the conquerors of renown;
But they never saw or knew
What good hurlers could do
Till the day they met the boys of Adamstown.
(VII)There was Ballymurn still
Who thought they'd work them down the hill,
If you sift that well you'll find out what I mean
From beyond the water boys
They cut the cawmeens (?) from their eyes
And brought the laurels back to Adamstown again.
(VIII)Well now next a right good team
From this place up here called Caim
They got the greatest licking of them all;
Well they all played their best
'But went down like all the rest
And they're not matches for old Adamstown at all.