I thought that I’d put them together.
1782 – 1808
‘There was a maid
whom Sorrow named his friend,
And she of her
High comrade Sorrow dreaming,
Went walking with slow steps.”
“SARAH CURRAN (1782 – 1808)
Sarah Curran is one of the romantic figures of Irish history.
“Oh! Make her a grave where sunbeams rest
Where they promise a glorious morrow;
They’ll shine o’er her sleep like a smile from the west,
From her own loved island of sorrow.”
Sarah Curran became one of the great romantic figures
of Irish history as a result of Moore’s song “She is far from the Land”.
The daughter of John Philpott Curran, she was born in Newmarket, Co. Cork.
The family moved to Dublin, where Sarah met and fell in love with Robert Emmet.
After Emmet’s rebellion failed, Sarah’s involvement with him became known.
Angry that his daughter had been compromised, Curran refused to act as his
lawyer. After Emmet was executed, Sarah found refuge in the house of
Cooper Penrose, an old friend of her fathers, near Tivoli in Cork.
She married an English army officer called Henry Sturgeon in 1805.
She is buried with her grandmother’s people, the Philpotts,
in the Church of Ireland graveyard in Newmarket.”
“IN THE ROADWAY OPPOSITE THIS TABLE
“ROBERT EMMET WAS BORN IN 1778, IN ST STEPHEN’S GREEN IN DUBLIN, THE SON OF DR ROBERT EMMET AND ELIZABETH MASON, A KERRYWOMAN. HE BECAME A LEADER OF THE UNITED IRISHMEN AND LED AN UNSUCCESSFUL RISING IN DUBLIN IN 1803. ESCAPING TO THE MOUNTAINS, HE RETURNED TO DUBLIN TO TAKE LEAVE OF HIS FIANCEÉ, SARAH CURRAN, AND WAS ARRESTED. HE WAS TRIED AND CONVICTED OF TREASON ON SEPTEMBER 19 1803 AND WAS HANGED ON THE FOLLOWING DAY. AFTER HIS DEATH, HIS HEAD WAS TAKEN TO HAVE A DEATH-MASK MADE AND HIS BODY WAS SMUGGLED OUT OF KILMAINHAM JAIL TO BE BURIED IN KERRY. IT IS BELIEVED THAT HIS BODY WAS LAID TO REST IN THE BACK PORCH OF THE CHURCH IN BLENNERVILLE, WHERE THIS MEMORIAL PARK HAS BEEN ERECTED.”
“ I HAVE BUT ONE REQUEST TO ASK AT MY DEPARTURE FROM THIS WORLD – IT IS THE CHARITY OF IT’S SILENCE! LET NO MAN WRITE MY EPITAPH: FOR AS NO MAN WHO KNOWS MY MOTIVES DARE NOW VINDICATE THEM, LET NOT PREJUDICE OR IGNORANCE ASPERSE THEM. LET THEM AND ME REPOSE IN OBSCURITY AND PEACE, AND MY TOMB REMAIN UNINSCRIBED, UNTIL OTHER TIMES, AND OTHER MEN, CAN DO JUSTICE TO MY CHARACTER: WHEN MY COUNTRY TAKES HER PLACE AMONG THE NATIONS OF THE EARTH, THEN, AND NOT TILL THEN, LET MY EPITAPH BE WRITTEN. I HAVE DONE.”
“HOW PURE THE AIR, WHAT BALM THE BREEZE
HOW DEAR THE NAME TO ME,
HOW PRIZED THE MEMORIES THAT HAUNT
THE BAY OF SWEET TRALEE.
THERE MAY BE RICHER LANDS AFAR,
BEYOND THE MIGHTY SEA,
BUT KERRY HEARTS CAN NE’ER FORGET
THE MOUNTAINS OF TRALEE”