UPON BEING SELF-HOODWINKED


This essay pivots on the origin of a popular folk song written in 1835 called “Kathleen Mavourneen.”  Like many Irish people and the world at large, I had long assumed that “Kathleen Mavourneen” was the epitome of Irish folk music.  The word “mavourneen” is an ancient Gaelic word for “my darling.”  The name Kathleen is a long-established female Irish name.  So I was proceeding under the assumption that Kathleen Mavourneen is about as Irish as a song could be.
The trouble started when I attempted to lift a line from “Kathleen Mavourneen.”  Facts are facts.  I have no trouble when it comes to the prose department.  But when it comes to poetry, I am a complete strike-out.  Even worse are those cases in which the poetry is set to music.  I haven’t the faintest clue as to setting a poem to music.
And so it was that I set out to unravel the mystery of a line from “Kathleen Mavourneen.”  I believe the line in question happens in the second verse.  Here is the line that set off this story about being self-mystified: “The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking.”  As a straight factual matter, I am completely unable to write poetry such as the story of the lark in the morning.  All things considered, I think it is fair to say that I am not a poet.  Prose gives me no problem at all, but poetry is more than I can handle.
For years, I have been singing and humming and buying records of the song “Kathleen Mavourneen”, including the reference to the “lark in the morning.”  Finally, at this late stage in my life, I looked into who wrote the music and the words to that wonderful song.  I hoped that the author would be someone named O’Flaherty or Dennis Sullivan or some such Irish person.  But as it turns out, the music to “Kathleen Mavourneen” was written by a fellow named Frederick Crouch.  According to Crouch, he opened the mail one day in 1835 to discover a poem called “Kathleen Mavourneen.”  And so he set to work to provide the music for these wonderful words.
The words were sent to Crouch by Mrs. Julia Crawford.  About the only saving grace is that her maiden name was Cavan, which of course is a county in Ireland.  So perhaps she had some Irishness in her background.  There is a debate at this late date that the lyrics were provided by a woman named Marion Crawford.  Time has passed and at this date, I am unable to determine with finality, the identity of the lyric writer.  But I assume that either Marion or Julia wrote the lyrics to Kathleen Mavourneen.  Further study of this debate might turn up the idea that Marion and Julia are the same person, but I cannot state this at this time.  So let us put this matter to rest with the thought that the lyrics to Kathleen Mavourneen were written by a woman named Mrs. Crawford.
The point that I must make clear is that the both the music and the words came from English authors. Specifically they did not come from Irish authors.  How such a situation exists baffles me to this day… But nonetheless the words and the music are supplied by English authors.  And so it is that 165 years later, this essay was produced in the title of “Upon Being Self-Hoodwinked.”
We know very little about Mrs. Crawford except her maiden name was Cavan and she was English who used the British postal system to send the words to Crouch.  There is no record that Mrs. Crawford ever was in the Emerald Isle.
Now as for Crouch, he was a colorful and prolific character.  He was born in 1803 and lived for more than 80 years.  During his lifetime Crouch, the composer, managed to acquire five wives.  The indications are that he was not a bigamist but rather he acquired the wives one at a time.  That is only the beginning.  Along with the five wives, the biographers say, Crouch fathered 27 children.  In those days it must have been that composing music was a lucrative profession to support such a family.
Composer Crouch, we now learn, lived in England until around 1850, at which time he set sail for America and wound up in California.  So in sum and substance the composer and the lyricist for “Kathleen Mavourneen” apparently never set a foot on Irish soil.  How the two of them could have produced a beautiful Irish folk song is beyond me.  But boys and girls, if we like it or not, these are the facts.
Both Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Crawford were not Irish but rather they came from England which had had its foot on Ireland’s neck for 850 years.  And so it is that I have enjoyed the words and the lyrics to “Kathleen Mavourneen” for more years than I can remember.  But I must conclude, as the title to this essay states, that your Uncle Ezra was self-hoodwinked.  If all of the self-hoodwinked mysteries turn out as well as the story about “Kathleen Mavourneen” we should have more of them.
Always remember as you go forward to ponder this beautiful song, how did composer Crouch find time to father 27 children?  And none of them were produced from a union of Mrs. Crawford and composer Crouch.  From this time forward, I will think about those 27 children instead of enjoying the music to “Kathleen Mavourneen.”
 
E. E. CARR
April 28, 2011
Essay 547
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Kevin’s commentary: Read more of Pop’s thoughts on this song and its background here. Also, I wonder if my grandfather struggles with poetry because he doesn’t read enough of it. Poetry is, after all, usually fictional or at least not literally true or directly informative in the way that Pop would prefer to have his literature. It’s possible that he writes it off in the same way he writes off fiction. I am surprised that his English-major daughter has not chastised him on such a practice, if it were the case, in the many years since her graduation.

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