O’Callanan family genealogy

The O’Callanans of Desmond are of the race of Eoghan Mór, and are to be distinguished from the O’Callanans of Connacht, who are of a totally different race, descended from a chieftain of the Siol-Murray. The Momonian or Munster O’Callanans were hereditary physicians to the MacCarthy Reaghs, Princes of Carbery; from whom they obtained extensive lands in consideration of their services. Their ruined castles still stand in mournful silence, to the east of Clonakilty; and their lands held by people, aliens alike in language and in race, to the tribesmen of South Cork. Of this sept Albert Henry Callanan, Esq., M.D., of Cork, was the chief representative. We learn that, in 1887, the principal members of this ancient family were:

Mr. Daniel O’Callanan, Ballinoroher, Clonakilty.

Mr. James O’Callanan, Ballymacowen, Clonakilty.

Mr. James O’Callanan, Dunowen, Clonakilty.

Mr. John O’Callanan, Gurranecore, Clonakilty.

Mr. Thomas O’Callanan, Brownstown, Clonakilty.

Mr. Timothy O’Callanan, Lackanalocha, Clonakilty.

Jeremiah J. O’Callanan, the Munster poet, was a member of this family; his name is still revered by the people of Desmond. He was born in Cork, in the year 1795: and, from his birth, he was, through the piety of his parents, intended for the priesthood. During his youth he displayed—

At school he was a clever boy, gifted with a wondrous memory, but not otherwise distinguished. His preparatory classical studies were completed between the schools of Mr. O’Sullivan, of Cork, and Dr. Harrington, at Cove (now “Queenstown”); and he entered Maynooth College for the rhetoric class at the age of seventeen.

Finding he had no vocation for the priesthood, he left Maynooth in the summer of 1818, determined not to return. To please his parents he returned to the college, but, on consulting two eminent clergymen, he finally gave up the idea of becoming a priest.

Some time after, he entered Trinity College as a medical student, remained in it two years, paid the fees for the lectures, but it is generally believed he never attended one. He returned to Cork aimless and unfixed. We find him next contributing articles to Blackwood; he projected a volume of poems; struck out the outline of stories—some in prose, others in verse—on the traditions, history and scenery of Ireland; he lived chiefly with his sister, but often went on a series of visits amongst his friends; and frequently he was to be seen amidst the glens and mountains of West Cork.

Like ourself and others whose pedigrees are given in Vol. I. of this Edition, necessity compelled Mr. O’Callanan to enter the teaching profession; from which he repeatedly attempted to escape, but without effect; he was doomed to end his life as a tutor. As such, he had for some time an engagement with Dr. Maginn, the father of the celebrated Maginn; and subsequently with Mr. Lynch, at the Everton school. He died at Lisbon, in September, 1829; and about that time some of his poems were published in Cork. In his early death, literature lost one of its ablest contributors. When at home he loved to wander amongst the people, gleaning the wild legends of the past, and the relics of song still preserved amongst them. Had he lived, he would, like Scott, have embodied and illustrated these; created for his country a minstrelsy, and proved himself the bard of Irish chivalry, and a lyrist of the highest order.

In Lisbon, on Christmas Eve, in 1827, he wrote: “This night twelve-month I was in Clonakilty with dear friends; this night I am alone in a land of strangers; but if, as I purpose, please God, I seek to be alone with God, I shall be happy anywhere:

“Beneath the sun of Portugal, where golden Tais shines,

I sat upon the hill that crowns the Valley of the Vines;

A breeze came coolly from the north, like an angel’s passing wing,

And gently touching it awaked sad memory’s sleeping string;

I thought upon my friends and home, and on my father dear,

And from my heart there came a sigh, and to mine eye a tear,

… and I thought how happy I should be

Were I upon the Virgin’s Bank[1] that looks across the sea.”

Mr. O’Callanan’s poems, were, in 1861, published in Cork by Mr. Daniel Mulcahy, Patrick street. The volume being now out of print, we give a few of his effusions, merely as samples of what we have lost:

SPANISH WAR-SONG.

I.

Ye sons of old Iberia, brave Spaniards, up, arise,

Along your hills, like distant rills, the voice of battle flies;

Once more, with threats of tyranny, come on the hosts of France;

Ye men of Spain, awake again, to Freedom’s fight advance.

II.

Like snow upon your mountains, they gather from afar,

To launch upon your olive fields the avalanche of war;

Above the dark’ning Pyrenees their cloud of battle flies,

To burst in thunder on your plains; brave Spaniards, up, arise.

III.

O sons of Viriatus, Hispania’s boast and pride,

Who long withstood, in fields of blood, the Roman’s battle-tide;

Arise again to match his deeds, and kindle at his name,

And let its light thro’ Freedom’s flight, still guide you on to fame.

IV.

Descendants of those heroes, in Roman song renown’d,

Whose glorious strife for Liberty with deathless name was crown’d,

Come down again, unconquer’d men, like Biscay’s ocean roar,

And show yourselves the Cantabers your fathers were of yore.

V.

Saguntum’s tale of wonder shines bright upon your page,

And old Numantia’s story shall live thro’ every age;

Her children sang their farewell song, their own lov’d homes they fir’d,

And in the blaze, ’mid Freedom’s rays, all gloriously expir’d.

VI.

Long, long each Spanish father his kindling boys shall tell,

How gallantly Gerona fought, how Saragoza fell;

Long, long, above the waves of time those deathless names shall be

A beacon light to all who fight for home or liberty.

VII.

Oh, offspring of that hero by Spanish hearts adored,

Who on the proud Morescoe bands his mountain vengeance poured,

Once more to waste your lovely fields come on the hordes of France;

Descendants of Pelayo to Freedom’s fight advance.

Notes

[1] Virgin’s Bank: A high bank, breasting the Atlantic, to the south of Clonakilty, of which a curious tradition is related by the peasantry of that neighbourhood.