Song of a proud Irishman

My great-great grandfather Patrick Tierney was an Irish laborer who eked out a meager living in the North End of Boston in the late 19th-century. I have often heard of "No Irish Need Apply" signs facing Irish men and women seeking work in the U.S. during that time period and have wondered what types of struggles Patrick faced in his quest to provide for his family.

While thinking of Patrick recently I found the song What Irish Boys Can Do written by William Sutherland and published in 1864. It is one response to the insults that Irishmen received when others "called him green; an Irish bull" and posted "those dirty words: No Irish need apply!"

Here is the full song:

What Irish Boys Can Do
(Answer to: No Irish Need Apply)

They insult an Irishman, and think nought of what they say;
They'll call him green, an Irish bull: it happens every day.
Now to these folks I'll say a word; to sing a song I'll try,
And answer to those dirty words: No Irish need app'y!

So, if you'll give attention, I'll sing my song to you,
And the subject of this song shall be: What Irish boys can do.
If you'd come to Ireland, they'd treat you well, I'm sure;
Pat would share his last potato with the destitute and poor;

If you were sick and weary, and had no place to rest,
The bed you'd get, though poor perhaps, would be Pat's very best.
He'd nurse you, too: he would that, and give you whisky, too;
And you cannot find a nobler act than Irishmen can do.

Did you ever know an Irishman from any danger flinch?
In fighting too he'd rather die than give his foe an inch.
Among the bravest in the world are the sons of Erin's green isle.
Sure, the Iron Duke of Wellington was a native of the soil;

And didn't he badly whip the French on the plains of Waterloo?
Which plainly showed to the whole world what Irishmen can do.
Old Ireland's had her warriors, who fought both true and brave;
Pat's assisted every nation, on the land and on the wave.

And poets, too, she's had: yes, many and many a score;
Where can you find much brighter stars than Lover or Tom Moore?
Old Ireland's had her actors, and authors not a few;
And things of wit and humor the Irish all can do.

Did you ne'er hear tell of Sheridan, or of lamented Catharine Hays!
Did you ne'er see fun in Irish songs, or laugh at Irish plays?
Old Ireland's had her statesmen: their fame the wide world rings!
She's likewise had musicians to tune her old harp' strings!

Not all Irish girls are beautiful, but then they're always true,
And, for faith and generosity, the Irish girls will do.
And then, too, in the present war between the North and South,
Let no dirty slur on Irish ever escape your mouth;

Sure, did you ne'er hear tell of the 69th, who bravely fought at Bull-Run!
And Meagher of the seven days fight that was in front of Richmond,
With General Shields who fought so brave for the flag red, white, and blue?
And anything like a bayonet charge the Irish boys can do.

Then, why slur upon the Irish? Why are they treated so?
What is it you have against them is what I want to know.
Sure, they work for all they get, and that you can't deny!
Then, why insult them with the words: No Irish need apply?

If you want to find their principles, go search the wide world through,
And you'll find all things that's noble the Irish folks can do.


Tommy Makem, a modern day singer-songwriter, wrote his own version of a response to "No Irish Need Apply" back in the 1970's. The lyrics to his song They Told Us No Irish Need Apply can be found on his website Makem.com.

Tommy Makem's song includes mentions of many famous Irish-Americans including politicians, presidents, leaders of the Church and more. My favorite lines in his song are in the seventh verse and celebrate the more common Irishmen, my ancestors:

We're the men who built the railroads,
we're the men who fought the wars
We're the men who manned the police force,
we're the men who drove street cars
We're the men who formed your unions,
we're the men who sang your songs
We're the men who filled your history
and tried to right your wrongs.

For more on the 69th Pennsylvania infantry see my article at Small-leaved Shamrock entitled The fighting Irish in America's Civil War.

For some of the "poets Ireland's had" see "The Wearin' of the Green",
"We searched for birds in every furze...", The dreamer and A child's eye view here at A light that shines again; and The Celtic blessing: food for the soul and On "poor Pat" and his emigration from Ireland over at Small-leaved Shamrock.

You can also find the song What Irish Boys Can Do online at the Library of Congress' American Memory website and at the "Poor Pat Must Emigrate" webpages for the Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

Touching letters from a "strong & feisty" old Irishman to his son

A few decades ago an American named Peter Jones made the discovery of a family treasure in the attic of his parents' home. Tied together in a box was a series of letters sent from the 1860's to 1890's by Jones' great-grandfather, John Coyne of Kilkelly, Ireland, to his son John. John had immigrated to America and the letters from his loving father tell the story of his concern for his son and his family and of the lives of the family that remained behind in Ireland.

Jones, overcome with emotion at this personal glimpse into his great-grandfather's life in Ireland, took the words from the letters and turned them into a song. The result is Kilkelly, a haunting melody that cannot help but tug at the heart of anyone who wonders about their own immigrant ancestor's impact on family at home.

Kilkelly
by Peter Jones
©1983 Green Linnet Music

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 60, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara's
so good as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England,
the house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
a third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell
are going to be married in June.
Your mother says not to work on the railroad
and be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John
Hello to your Mrs. and to your four children,
may they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I guess that he never will learn.
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of
and now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her
and now she's got six of her own.
You say you found work, but you don't say what kind
or when you will be coming home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
that your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
with money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people are selling
at any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John
I guess that I must be close on to eighty,
it's thirty years since you're gone.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I'm still living out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house
and Brigid's daughters have grown.
Thank you for sending your family picture,
they're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
what joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John
I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner to tell you
that father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
and healthy right down to the end.
Ah, you should have seen him play with the grandchildren
of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
considering his life was so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
he called for you in the end.
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,
we'd all love to see you again.

I was happy to read that Peter Jones, the writer of the song and the grandson of the immigrant son that never returned, was able to make a visit to Kilkelly a few years ago. I understand that he was greeted warmly by the village that his grandfather had left almost a century and a half before.

You can read more about the background of the song and the story of Pat MacNamara, the Irish schoolmaster who handwrote the letters for John Coyne, at this Irish Identity webpage. The song was recorded by Moloney, O'Connell & Keane on their album "Kilkelly" in 1988, not to mention a variety of other recording artists' versions. Look for various arrangements of Kilkelly on iTunes.