Corvey Poet Author

— The Corvey Poets Project at the University of Nebraska —

British Poetry of the later Eighteenth and Earlier Nineteenth Centuries

Bibliographical and Contextual Apparatus

Bourke, Hannah

O'Donoghue, Prince of Killarney: A Poem. Dublin: William Curry, Jr. and Co., 1830.

Descriptive Essay

I. Characters

O’Donoghue – Prince of Killarney and its surrounding cheifdoms.

Rhinda More – Ormon’s sister and love interest of O’Donoghue; Hengist and M’Arthy More.

Ormon More – Cheif of Dunlo, successor to the kingdom of Killarney.

Hengist (Son of Vosco) – Viking (Ostman) who led a failed attack on Killarney.

M’Arthy More – Member of the rebellious Glin clan who seeks to revenge his father’s imprisonment.

Cathal – Principal bard of Dunloe and Killarney.

Dermod – Jocular inhabitant of Killarney; loves Rosa.

Rosa – Rhinda More’s handmaid.

Aspar – O’Donoghue’s huntsman.

Father John – Monk of St. Tinian’s abbey, protector of Hengist.

St. Aman – Abbot of St. Tinian’s.

Enna – Prophetess and witch.

Sirena – Queen of the Sylphs.

Queen of the Naiads

II. Synopsis (This is a long narrative poem)

Canto I: The Chase

The canto begins with an invocation to the legendary harp of Brian Boru followed by a description of Ross Castle of Killarney, its lake and the surrounding land. We meet O’Donoghue preparing to eat his morning meal, but he is soon interrupted by the blast of a hunting horn signaling that the chase of a stag has begun. O’Donoghue’s excited servants scurry to join in the chase leaving their prince behind. O’Donoghue is frustrated that he has no servants to fetch his horse stabled at a distance down shore on Lake Killarney, when Ormon More and his sister Rhinda appear in a small boat to transport O’Donoghue to his stables. O’Donoghue and his subjects begin the chase of the stag, but Rhinda opts out on the hunt and instead decides to rest under an Ilex sacred to the Druids. The deer proves to be elusive to the hunters, and it is only O’Donoghue and his apparently magical horse that can keep ground in the pursuit. Meanwhile, Rhinda begins to doze under the Ilex and is soon discovered by Cathal. Cathal is now an old man but when he was young, the love of his life, Reda, died in his arms. Cathal was maddened by the incident and spent a number of years roaming as a wild man until the sound of bard’s harp restored his sanity. This incident prompted Cathal to become a poet and musician. Fearing that the sleeping Rhinda might be taken away and forced into marriage by the faeries, Cathal plays a song that wakes Rhinda from her nap. Surprised by the song, Rhinda asks why Cathal had awoken her. Rhinda discredits his reasons for doing so as superstitious and refuses a protective charm that Cathal says will protect her from faerie magic. Cathal, however, persists with his explanation and Rhinda soon accepts a different protective object. The two see O’Donoghue and Ormon More ride across the lake on a boat and join them to travel back to Ross Castle.

Canto II: The Prophecy

Hengist meets Dermod on the shore of the lake, and Hengist asks Dermod to ferry him to Innisfallen, the lake isle holding St. Tinian’s Abbey. They converse while traveling, and Dermod soon learns that his passenger is Hengist, a common enemy to his kingdom. Dermod feels that he can tell Hengist stories or recite him poems that will help Hengist cool his vehemence. Dermod sings the praises of O’Donoghue. The king does not carry any vengeance in his heart, is a masterful poet and holds secret communes with spirits and other worldly creatures (faeries). Hengist relates how he came to Killarney: He and other Ostmen (Vikings) were attempting to raid Killarney. O’Donoghue and the warriors of Killarney, however, successfully repelled the invaders and O’Donoghue had left Hengist for dead after a one on one battle in the invasion. Father John of St. Tinian’s Abbey discovered Hengist and aided in his convalescence. Hengist now wants to exact revenge upon O’Donoghue. Though Hengist tells this directly to Dermod, Dermod says that Hengist has treated him fairly and that Hengist should not worry about his secret becoming known to the king. Hengist retires for the night in his secret abbey cell and awakens the next morning to travel to Ross Castle to carry out his plan of revenge. A boy ferries Hengist to Ross Isle and on the way the see the ancient, gigantic warrior Finn M’Uil. They land on the shore just in time to see Rhinda’s boat capsized by large wave. Hengist swims to save her. In the process, they immediately fall in love with each other. Safely ashore, Hengist reveals who he is to Rhinda, and she nearly faints. Out of consideration for Rhinda, Hengist temporarily delays his plans and flees back to the abbey. Once there, he is discovered by St. Aman, who gives Hengist an ultimatum: convert to Christianity and join the abbey’s brotherhood or be turned into O’Donoghue. While St. Aman is giving Hengist time to think this over, Father John helps him flee the abbey. In his retreat, Hengist encounters the wierd, Enna, who prophesizes about Hengist’s future. She foretells that Hengist will take Rhinda as a bride, but will have to flee forever back to his native land. After his encounter with the wierd, Hengist discovers the dark side of O’Donoghue’s seemingly perfect kingdom: the Prison Isle, where those who have participated in active rebellions against the king are sentenced to torture. A guard sees Hengist and challenges him to a fight in which Hengist disarms the guard. Hengist then tries to provide relief for the prisoner Carol Roe, but Roe refuses any help from a Viking enemy of Killarney.

Canto III: The Feast

The scene changes to a great feast and celebration of O’Donoghue. Everyone is partaking in the merriment except for the rebellious M’Arthy More. M’Arthy is enraged that his father has been sent to the Prison Isle for attempting to violently usurp Killarney’s throne. He tries to kill O’Donoghue, but the king defends himself and spares M’Arthy’s life. O’Donoghue then banishes M’Arthy and his clan to their land; they shall not be free to roam Killarney. Rhinda, betrothed to M’Arthy, but no longer feeling towards him since meeting Hengist, discovers that Hengist has snuck into the festival disguised as a harpist. She faints, and the crowd takes her to the balcony for some cool air. O’Donoghue believes that she fainted due to the incident that transpired between him and M’Arthy and goes to proclaim his love to her. Rhinda refuses, and, though he could force her into the marriage, O’Donoghue nobly accepts her rejection. O’Donoghue leaves and Ormon finds his sister in despair. Rhinda tells Ormon about O’Donoghue’s proposition, and is initially irked at her decision to reject the king. Ormon, however, soon accepts that she has the right to love or not love anyone that she wants to.

Canto IV: The Combat

O’Donoghue has decided to take his life after Rhinda rejected him. He is standing at the edge of a series of lake-side cliffs when a voice taunts him for being a coward for taking his own life instead of dying in combat. O’Donoghue rushes to the source of the voice and discovers a monk. The holy man, however, soon removes his hood and reveals himself as Hengist. The Ostman makes his intentions known to O’Donoghue and draws a sword on the king. O’Donoghue is able to wrestle the sword from Hengist and tells the Viking he has no intention on fighting. Hengist, however, lunges at O’Donoghue, who yet again successfully stops an attack. O’Donoghue then flings Hengist’s sword into the lake and flees. While running, he runs into the beautiful Queen of the Naiads and asks if he can flee with her to her land. As dawn is near, she says that there is no time (she is a creature that cannot be out in the daylight), but she will be back to take prince the next night. O’Donoghue returns to Ross Castle to sleep away the day, anxious for the coming night.

Canto V: The Spell

Rhinda and her handmaid, Rosa, are discussing Rhinda’s love for Hengist and their possible future. Rhinda is afraid that there can be nothing between the Ostman and herself, but Rosa says she knows about a witch, Enna, who can discern the future. The two wait until evening to visit the wierd’s grot. When they arrive, Enna summons the spirit of Odin, who divines Rhinda’s future. Odin states that she is doomed to marry the enemy of her country: Hengist. Rhinda and Rosa then return to Dunlo. O’Donoghue, meanwhile, is awoken by a naiad messenger who tells him that the Queen is waiting for him. While attempting to leave the castle, O’Donoghue is delayed three times by his faithful hunting hound, Sru. Once free of Sru, O’Donoghue proceeds to the lake where a magical boat takes him beneath the waves; he is now in the land of the faeries. The land is paved in jewels and all the creatures are exceedingly beautiful. The Queen of the Naiads escorts O’Donoghue to Sirena, queen of the sylphs. Sirena offers O’Donoghue an immortal life among the faeries if he would drink a special nectar. O’Donoghue raises the chalice to his lips when a sudden, powerful thunder blast forces him to drop the cup. The faeries refill the draught, but upon bringing it to his lips, a voice whispers that he should not. He throws the cup to the ground and demands to know if there are any consequences for drinking the potion. The faeries reassure him it is safe, and on the third try, the angel Uriel descends upon the scene, causing all but O’Donoghue to scatter. Uriel relates that the faeries are really the fallen angels of heaven, and that the draught is cursed. If O’Donoghue were to drink from it, he would never be allowed in the presence of God. Uriel then departs, and the sylphs and naiads admit to their scheme. O’Donoghue, however, would rather join their rank than return to the pain awaiting for him on earth and drinks from the potion.

Canto VI: The Midnight Hour

Aspar encounters Ormon and learns of O’Donoghue’s disappearance to the faerie world. Aspar does not believe Ormon and says that he will search for the monarch himself. While searching, Aspar sees the spirit of O’Donoghue burst from the lake wearing his finest hunting gear. O’Donoghue then pursues a phantom on a hunt. The voice of Cathal then announces the arrival to Ross Castle of Killarney’s new king, Ormon More. Once settled, Ormon relates to Rhinda that his monarchy is in jeopardy. Since O’Donoghue has disappeared, M’Arthy More is no longer compelled by decree to remain an exile and has raised an army to challenge Ormon. Ormon begs his sister to marry M’Arthy, once her betrothed, in order to bring peace to the kingdom, but she steadfastly refuses to do so. Ormon then says that the only hope for victory is from the king of Limerick. Rhinda agrees to meet the king and consider him as a potential spouse. Hengist then arrives disguised as a knight in full armor and informs the party that M’Arthy’s More’s rebellion is more advanced than they believe it to be. Hengist secretly slips a note to Rhinda and departs. Ormon then realizes that he recognizes the knight as Hengisht. After Ormon leaves, Rhinda reads the note, which says that she should not marry the enemy of Killarney and should marry the King of Limerick, if she so desires. Rhinda will not do this.

Canto VII: The Departure

Rhinda determines to flee the kingdom for good. As she is pondering her fate in a meadow, Hengist, who saw her run from Ross Castle, catches up to her. They proclaim their love for each other and decided that they should flee Ireland and be married. Rosa then runs in on the two and relays the news that M’Arthy More ambushed and killed Ormon while the monarch was greeting the arrival of the King of Limerick. With Ormon’s opposition to their marriage now out of the way, the party departs to Innisfallen to wed Hengist and Rhinda. Father John tells them that they must flee quickly in order to avoid St. Aman, who will turn them over to M’Arthy More, the new king of Killarney. Dermod soon appears and offers to take the group by hidden trail away from the abbey. The poem ends with a continuance of the beginning invocation.

III. Background to the poem

O’Donoghue was published in 1830 in Ireland. The Roman Catholic majority of the Ireland was celebrating the Catholic Relief Bill of 1829 and an impending doom was slinking on the horizon that would shrink the population of Ireland by roughly five million inhabitants. O’Donoghue was released into an Ireland full of promise: though the Act of Union some thirty years earlier had all but crushed the Irish hopes of autonomous statehood, a lot of political ground had been made in the years since for the island. The hopes in pre-Union Ireland for autonomy flared to life in the 1798 rebellion. The insurrection was quickly put down by William Pitt, but those lost to the cause quickly became martyrs to many Irish nationals. The Act of Union was signed officially making Ireland part of the United Kingdom of Great Brittan, Scotland and Ireland in 1801, no longer to be its own state under foreign rule. While the idea of a militaristic rebellion became less and less of a possibility as measures like the Act of Union strengthened England’s grip on Ireland, an intellectual rebellion was in full swing. Artists and poets, such as Thomas Moore, were deeply influenced by the tide of Romanticism that was sweeping the Continent and England at the time. Continental Romanticism often favored nationalistic mentalities, especially as the movement took shape in Germany. This nationalism, however, was a movement that was not typically concerned with the customs and national character of the monarchies. For too long these rulers of the state had drifted further away from the nations within those sates – intermarriage between dynasties and a growing world market punctuated the class concerns of the nation, often turning the pool of European sovereigns and controllers of capitol into a homogonous, unified organization concerned with its own agenda.

The Romantic, on the other hand, was often focused on the stubbornly loyal. What looks like a theory of adaptive evolution began to describe the geographical and physical peculiarities that shaped national and cultural characteristics. Due to this intellectual and artistic attention to more microscopic elements of society and efforts of Enlightenment thinkers, the individual and his (not often hers, sadly), rights began to become more important in societal consciousness. The conflict between a growing demand for individual rights and the advancement of the economically elite’s agenda erupted bloodily with the French Revolution. The Irish viewed the French Revolution with many different eyes. Some saw hope that it would muster the support of home grown separatist causes; some feared its trampling of religious and other traditionally rooted social institutions held sacred by many Irish. By 1798, the French had agreed to send an army to support the uprising planned by the United Irishmen. Well into the rebellion, the French had reneged on their commitment.

Before that time the artistic rendering of the Irish individual and protests against British rule were evident in works by poets such as Charlotte Brooke, who “translated” (her affinity to the originals is often called into question) and edited ancient Irish poetry. After the revolution, this attention to what we would today call Romantic causes became even more apparent in the works of the likes of Mary Tighe and Thomas Moore. They carried on rebellious attitudes in their poetry. While Moore was a friend to both English Romantic poets Byron and Shelley, he would differentiate his Irish voice using lyrical patterns well established by Charlotte Brooke, and Tighe would add a very feminist voice to the Romantic character (as opposed to the male dominated English poetry). Maria Edgeworth published Castle Rackrent in 1800, and highlighted the class struggles within Ireland (although often favoring the middle class land owners). An artistic revolution, subtle because of the tight grip of not only the English crown but the English market that could fuel such a revolution, was well in place. By 1830, the British were more informed (that doesn’t necessarily mean perfectly knowledgeable) about their western acquisition of Ireland. This awareness paved the way for figures like Daniel O’Connell and his Repeal movement in the 1820s, which successfully led to the eradication of restrictions placed on Catholics by the 17th and 18th century penal codes. By the 1830s, the Repeal party controlled many seats within Parliament.

This is where Hannah Bourke comes into the picture. The only thing known to this date about the poet is that in 1830 she published O’Donoghue with a second rate Dublin publishing firm. No biographical information about her or the woman she inscribed the book to, Elizabeth Palmer of Ormly Lodge, Surrey, could be found. Bourke does, however, leave clues about her affiliations throughout her footnotes and endnotes to O’Donoghue and the poetic choices that she made. Such a choice was to publish the text in English. This was a move to attract an English, not Irish, speaking audience, and an audience with English backgrounds. This book was also published by Hurst, Chance & Co. in London – a firm well known for their travel, scientific and medical publications. In the notes to the text, she often refers to the customs she is describing as customs of “the Irish lower classes.” Clearly she sees a lot of Irish culture situated in those classes. This is not, however, a condemnation of the culture as I will point out in the introductory considerations below. It is my speculation that, given the works ambiguity towards Christian doctrinal considerations and the mentioned notes, that Hannah Bourke was a member of the Protestant Ascendancy. Her family may have been in Ireland for more than a century by that time, as many ascendancy families were, and may well have been land owners or land lords. Many other poets from Ireland at this time belonged to the same class – they were the class that controlled the middle class in Ireland (though there was a growing Catholic middle class) and had the resources that could provide a lifestyle where one could write a book of poetry. Her mixture of Irish folklore and Western mythology leads me to suspect that she was very well educated, and at times seems like she is going out of her way to prove that she has a strong educational background. There is, however, little more that I can speculate upon with any accuracy. Though I am very familiar with this work now, I still cannot draw a clear portrait of the artist.

IV. Introductory considerations

As I said earlier, I do not believe that Bourke’s comments about the Irish lower classes are meant to deride the culture that they keep alive. In fact, I believe that O’Donoghue displays some very tongue in cheek attitudes towards British rule and Irish nationalism. Whether these displays were intentional or simply part of the cultural zephyr that is artistic production I cannot discern, and do not for the following considerations need to. What is important are the tensions that make the plot of this churn and the possible cultural codifications and significances they may have carried. These tensions allow a number of attentive readings that help to place O’Donoghue within a cultural and artistic dialogue.

Perhaps the most apparent tension in O’Donoghue is that of the conflict between Hengist and O’Donoghue. Hengist came from foreign soil to plunder Ireland (although the Ostmen’s intentions were never specifically detailed within the work, those familiar with the history of the Vikings would have known this is how they fueled their empire). O’Donoghue and his fellow warriors, however, held back the invaders and defeated them. The shame of this defeat and nothing more fuels Hengist’s sense of pride and retribution. In the second canto, Hengist and Dermod enter into a lengthy discussion about O’Donoghue’s virtues as a king. At every moment Hengist is trying to trap Dermod into revealing a malignant aspect of O’Donoghue’s sovereignty. There is seemingly nothing, however, that would indicate that O’Donoghue is anything but the perfect monarch. He is wise, fair, artistic, forgiving, strong and perhaps even magical. Hengist can find no ground on which to call O’Donoghue a bad king and thereby oppose his right to rule.

Hengist’s complaints seem all the more ridiculous because O’Donoghue defended his homeland like any good monarch is expected to do. It was Hengist and his kind, after all, that had blatantly started the hostilities between Killarney and the Ostmen. His motivations seem completely void of any reason beside pride. In this manner he is like a Romantic hero, such as Faust, who longed for the knowledge beyond human reason (a perfectly unreasonable desire), and the place beyond this reason is the raw passion that fuels the character. Bourke, however, never portrays Hengist negatively. Instead, he is always described as dashing and heroic, he attracts all those besides O’Donoghue he encounters to his side. Father John of St. Tinian’s abbey nurses Hengist back to health, Rhinda falls in love with him, and Dermod quickly befriends him. O’Donoghue is surprising because of its utter lack of didacticism.

This conflict, too, can be viewed within a larger context outside of the text. While the character of Hengist cannot align perfectly in this manner, one could easily see him as eponymous with foreign, especially British rule, over Ireland. He is an invader, when the nation tries to defend itself (think the 1798 rebellion here), he becomes irrationally angry at it for doing so. Here Bourke may be trying to critique international tension happening in her contemporary world. Hengist often acts like England did with Ireland, yet he is not portrayed negatively. By this time, as Bourke herself my be evidence of, the English and the Protestant Ascendancy were an ingrained part of life in Ireland. She may have also avoided assigning Hengist negative characteristics in order not to make this international comparison too obvious as to detract an audience. And while these similarities between Hengist and the British do exist, they cannot be perfect parallels because Hengist is, after, a real character within the poem and not simply a characterization. Hengist may not be a cognizant production of the tension between England and Ireland either. He may be representative of other tensions, too.

Bourke here may be using Hengist as a character that pokes at the flaws in Romanticism. The movement, so often concerned with individuality and the passion that drove the individual, like Hengist’s passion, seemed to forget the consequences of leading such a life under that beacon. Everyone in Killarney loves Hengist, and there seems to be very little reason to do so. He is, after all, there to hurt the kingdom of Killarney. This is so apparent that I do not think it was lost on Bourke or her audience. Hengist is portrayed as an individual that propels his sense of self to the realm of overwhelming pride.

The other Romantic hero of the tale, O’Donoghue, certainly has similiar flaws, too. He is a national Romantic figure, one who is the ideal of the national spirit. His land is beautiful and he has perfect knowledge of it. In fact, the word “ideal” or “idealistic” can describe almost every aspect of O’Donoghue’s reign. Like Faust, too, O’Donoghue longs for a world where idealism always works. He would have ideally married Rhinda, but she rejects him. He would have ideally killed Hengist to defend his country, but he survived. Killarney would ideally be free of rebellion, but he has to create a dark and disgusting realm to deal with them. All this chasing after idealism, especially idealism wrapped around issues of sovereignty and the preservation of a nation, lead O’Donoghue to live in the ideal realm of the faeries, but even that is cursed by God.

Bourke may not only been commenting on the situation between England and Ireland and Romantic aesthetics, but there is a lot of indication, too, that she was advocating a strong position for women within the society. Let us not forget Rhinda in all of this. She had the strength and the allowance to choose who she would to love. This is not something too common among 19th century literary figures. Despite her powerful brother’s urgings to marry O’Donoghue and then the King of Limerick, despite her arranged betrothal to M’Arthy More by her dying father, Rhinda rejects them all and chooses the enemy to those she holds dear. Not only does she choose Hengist, but she, unlike the damned spirit of O’Donoghue or the slain Ormon, survives and lives (supposedly) happily ever after. One must also take into account that the rulers of the faerie kingdoms were also women.

O’Donoghue is a surprisingly complex work that stands at many junctures. International politics, intellectual movements and issues of gender equality all combine to produce a very unique aesthetic that straddles not only the lyrical but the satirical and political. This is a work, when taken in a larger extra-textual consideration, that does not come down clearly on the side of artistic and political concerns – something unique to the 19th century. If we look for the complexities within O’Donoghue, we can see, perhaps, an aesthetic of suspicion emerging.