"For slavery fled, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew": living in the shadow of Empire

Above: Michael Collins

This is a difficult write on St Patrick’s Day. My Irish forebears are often remembered on this day as happy-go-lucky and always full of cheer. But growing up as I did in an Irish home, there was a deep melancholy present.

My Irish home had deep family roots to the War of Independence in which my Irish forebears fought against the imperial power of England between 1919 and 1921. Yes, that home was in England and so I am a deeply conflicted man, for I also love the land of my birth, England, and the monarchy.

Ever since the Norman times, the English had sent troops to Ireland to subdue and conquer the Irish. It was their first colony. And one sees the depth of my inner conflict as one of those warlords was Oliver Cromwell, a man that I admire in many ways.

And yes, Cromwell’s New Model Army brought Baptists to Ireland who planted some of the oldest churches in that fair land. But oh the horror of Drogheda & Wexford!

I wonder if the failure of the Reformation in Ireland had something to do with the fact that the English, who had the Gospel, bore such a racial prejudice against the Irish.

And so, yes, I grew up with the music of those troubled days like this plaintive rendition of “The Foggy Dew” by the Chieftains and Sinéad O’Connor—https://ca.video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?fr=yhs-sz-030&ei=UTF-8&hsimp=yhs-030&hspart=sz&param1=2457223347&p=Foggy+Dew&type=type80173-3223215848#id=2&vid=befcfe9e13540ae46856aa226bf8ffc5&action=click.

And I know a little of what it is to live in the shadow of Empire and imperial power.