Neath the fair hills of Mourne, so wild and so free Just sheltered by mountain and kissed by the sea like an emerald set in Old Ireland's Crown, Newcastle - the gem of Old County Down. Eva Brennan
These lyrics were written by Percy French in 1896. It was written in collaboration with his partner Dr. W. Houston Collisson. French wrote the words one day when the Moutains were visible from the Hill of Howth and sent the lyrics to Collisson on the back of a postcard.
Will the owners of this video please contact me at mourneminers@optonline.net I tried to request credit information but couldn't enter text on your YouTube site.
History
The name of the town derives from a castle (demolished in the 18th century) belonging to the Magennis family which stood at the mouth of the Shimna River.
On 13 January1843, boats from Newcastle and Lower Mourne set out for the usual fishing stations, and were caught in a gale. 76 men perished, 46 of whom were from Newcastle. They left twenty seven widows, one hundred and eighteen children, and twenty one dependents. A Public Subscription was raised and the cottages, known as Widows Row, were built for the widows and dependants. A local song about the disaster says "Newcastle town is one long street entirely stripped of men"
In 1910 Harry Ferguson flew a small plane across Newcastle beach in one of the first engine powered flights by aircraft in Ireland. He completed the flight in an attempt to win a £100 prize offered by the town for the first powered flight along the strand. His first take off ended badly, but according to a modern newspaper report 'He flew a distance of almost three miles along the foreshore at a low altitude varying between fifty and five hundred feet'.
The town's history is poorly recorded and is held mostly by local people and their stories of the past. There are stories of 'The Blue Lady', a woman abandoned by her husband who's ghost still haunts the mountains, and more recently the idea of a wild cat living in the Mournes. Many of the stories although have true origins are only folklore and give many of the towns attractions their names, such as Maggie's Leap being named after a local girl called Maggie, who leapt over the impressive chasm to her death while fleeing soldiers with a basket of eggs. Many other places in the Newcastle area get their names from other sources, 'The Brandy Pad', a popular spot in the mountains is named so because of the illegal brandy smuggling that took place through the area. Another example would be the Bogey Hill just above the harbour at the Southern end of the town, which is named after the carts that carried Mourne granite from the quarry on Thomas' Mountain down to the harbour.
Extended Lyrics Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight, With people here working by day and by night. They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street. At least, when I asked them that's what I was told So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold; But for all that I've found there, I might as well be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea. I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed As to how the fine ladies of London are dressed. Well if you believe me, when asked to a ball They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all. Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not, in thrath Say if they were bound for a ball, or a bath, Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Machree, Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I've seen England's king from the top of a bus And I've never known him, but he means to know us. And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed, Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest. And now that he's visited Erin's green shore We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course Well now he is here at the head of the Force. I met him today, I was crossing the Strand And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand. And there we stood talking of days that are gone While the whole population of London looked on; But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here --- Oh, never you mind --- With beautiful shapes nature never designed. And lovely complexions all roses and cream, But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same That if at those roses you venture to sip The colors might all come away on your lip So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me Where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
