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Francis
O'Neill 1848-1936
The curious journey, detailed below, of Francis O'Neill from a West
Cork farm to occupying the office of Chicago Chief of Police, is in
itself the stuff books in the mould of Jack London are made of. But it
was the tunes and songs picked up from his parents and visiting
musicians at the family home in West Cork that were to form the basis
of one of the most remarkable collections of Irish music, published in
the early years of the last century.
The Music of Ireland (1903), was compiled and edited
in Chicago by O’Neill (1848-1936), who resigned from the
city’s police force in 1905 following a distinguished career.
His grandfather, O’Mahony Mor, or as he was generally called
“The Cianach Mor - his clan title - kept open house in the
glens of West Cork, not far from Castle Donovan, for the rambling
musicians of his time. It was to be expected, wrote O’Neill,
in Irish Folk Music (1910), “that my
mother - God rest her soul - would memorise much of the Folk Music of
Munster and naturally transmit it orally by her lilting and singing to
her children." His father also sang from his large repertoire of songs
in Irish and English.
That O’Neill collected and published 1,850 pieces is all the
more remarkable because he was unable to write music. Back in West Cork
he had learned the rudiments of the flute from Timothy Downing,
“a gentleman farmer in Tralibane, our townland.”
However, within the ranks of the Chicago police force he found one
Sergeant James O’Neill who was to be his transcriber and able
assistant. James, who hailed from Co Down, was unrelated to Francis. He
was, however, a trained violinist. And although the two men lived 20
miles apart, James regularly crossed Chicago, committing to paper tunes
as Francis recalled them. On one occasion, it is said, 12 tunes were
recorded at a sitting.
At that time Chicago was home to numerous Irish traditional singers and
musicians. A keen listener, Francis O’Neill came to the
realisation that the many songs and tunes he had heard from his parents
and others in West Cork were unknown in Chicago.
Initially his intention was to preserve those tunes of his earlier life
in West Cork, adding tunes he learnt after emigrating. The Chicago
musicians became interested in his project and were keen to have their
favourite tunes included in his collection.
The renowned Irish collector and writer Breandán Breathnach
takes up the story: “James O’Neill’s
method of working was to note the tune down in pencil from the playing,
singing, lilting, whistling or humming of the contributor, then to play
it back whereupon it was accepted or corrected as the case might be.
“All tunes considered worthy of preservation were later
copied in ink into books classified for convenience. Step by step with
this transcribing went the scrutinising of old printed and manuscript
collections and the copying of any tunes found therein which were
thought to be worthy of wider circulation.”
Breathnach continues: “The appointment of a committee of
musicians to assist in the selection and revision of the vast amount of
material assembled suggested itself. Early and McFadden, Delaney,
Cronin and Ennis, outstanding musicians then resident in Chicago,
agreed to co-operate in that work and they came together for the
purpose in James O’Neill’s house.
“James played from his manuscripts but scarcely a tune was
considered to be satisfactory in all respects. Changes were suggested
and opposed and arguments waged until the more modest members fell into
silence and one opinionated and domineering member had the field to
himself. The one meeting of the committee was sufficient to prove the
idea was unworkable and the two O’Neills were left to soldier
for themselves”.
With over 2,000 pieces now assembled, O’Neill became anxious
to have the collection published. He also decided to broaden its
popularity to include well-known tunes and songs, thus the inclusion of
several of Thomas Moore’s melodies and works by the composer
Balfe.
O’Neill’s book was widely welcomed by musicians and
critics. But back in Cork Father Edward Gaynor (1850-1936) was on his
case. Fr Gaynor, renowned for his choir in his Sunday’s Well
church, accused O’Neill of pirating airs from Moore, Petrie,
Joyce and others and including airs “which were not Irish
music at all.” It was difficult to repudiate Fr
Gaynor’s claims, as he failed to come up with many sources.
Breandán Breathnach suggests that Fr Gaynor was
“continuing his feud” with Father Richard Henebry
(1863-1916), a Gaelic scholar, violinist and acquaintance of Francis
O’Neill, who had published a pamphlet on the subject of Irish
music, also in 1903.
The criticism that some of the airs “were not Irish at
all” was particularly stinging at a time when Irish
nationalists were busy forging an identity for themselves. Yet Killarney,
one of the airs to come under suspicion, was to be recorded by the
piper Patsy Touhey.
Unsually generous in his praise, a curious omission in O'Neill's
writing is any reference to Ryan's Mammoth Collection, 1050
Reels and Jigs , Hornpipes and Clogs, published in 1883.
These were edited and collected by one William Bradbury Ryan of Boston.
O'Neill could not have been unaware of this collection.
Nevertheless, the great debt Irish musicians, particularly in America,
owe to O’Neill is immense. Many of the tunes played today can
be traced back to The Music of Ireland.
O'Neill's Odyssey
BORN on August 28, 1848, at Tralibane, near Bantry in West Cork,
Francis O’Neill was a bright pupil at school. Intended for
the Christian Brothers, he ran away to sea in 1865. First he worked his
passage to Sunderland in the north of England. After working at various
jobs he signed on as a cabin boy for a voyage which took him through
the Mediterranean, the Dardanelles, the Black Sea to the Ukrainian
seaport of Odessa.
He left Liverpool for the USA in July, 1866, on the packet ship Emerald
Isle, arriving in New York five weeks later. It was on board the
Emerald Isle that Francis O’Neill met Anna Rogers. Several
years later they were again to meet, in Missouri, where they were
married.
From New York O’Neill served on the full-rigged ship, the
Minnehaha, bound for Japan. On the return trip they were shipwrecked on
Bakers Island in the mid-Pacific and the crew, according to
O’Neill in Irish Folk Music, led a
Robinson Crusoe-like life before being rescued by the brig, Zoe, manned
by a white captain and a Kanaka crew.
“Rations were necessarily limited, almost to
starvation,” wrote O’Neill. “One of the
Kanakas had a fine flute, one which he played a simple one strain hymn
with conscious pride almost every evening. Of course, this chance to
show what could be done on the instrument was not to be overlooked.
“The result was most gratifying. As in the case of the
Arkansas traveller, there was nothing too good for me. My dusky brother
musician cheerfully shared his “poi” and canned
salmon with me thereafter.”
When they arrived in Hawaii after a voyage of 34 days, all but three of
the castaways were sent to the Marine Hospital. “I was one of
the three robust ones, thanks to my musical friend, and was therefore
sent straight on to San Francisco.
“What became of my wrecked companions was never learned; but
it can be seen how the trivial circumstance of a little musical skill
exercised such an important influence on my future career.”
After a spell herding sheep, O’Neill returned to sea for one
more voyage before settling down. He passed a teacher’s exam
in Missouri and taught there for one winter in 1869 before moving to
Chicago where he was to find work sailing the Great Lakes and later as
a labourer in the rail freight house.
O’Neill was sworn in as a policeman in July 1873. Several
months later he was shot in an encounter with a notorious gangster. The
bullet was lodged too near the spine to be extracted and
O’Neill carried it to the grave. Promotion followed.
Achieving top marks in police exams he worked his way up through the
ranks and was appointed General Superintendent or Chief of Police of
Chicago in 1901.
Over the years the high incidence of Irish musicians within the ranks
of the police force has been commented upon - often accompanied by the
remark that had there been less musicians there might have been less
gangsters abroad. Other police forces also had their difficulty with
gangsters, although their police chiefs never matched
O’Neill’s achievement as a collector of music.
© Ronan Nolan, 2000-07.
Sources:
Francis O’Neill: Collector of Irish Music,
by Breandán Breathnach, published in Dal gCais (1977).
Irish Folk Music, by Francis O’Neill,
(1910).
See also:
A Harvest Saved, Francis O'Neill and Irish Music in Chicago,
1997, Nicholas Carolan. Ossian Publications.