The Deluge in Caherciveen 1924

This song appeared on the front page of the newspaper ‘The Liberator’ on the 23 February 1924. The following words preceded the song:

“To the Editor. Sir, - On the night of Friday, the eighth day of the second month in the year 1924 A.D., a terrible deluge descended on the town of Caherciveen from the rocky mountain of Bin na Ti, (Beenatee) which threw the honest inhabitants into a serious state of alarm and consternation, whilst they were compelled to witness their homes being inundated and their valuable treasures floating on the crests of the angry floods. Unfortunately the scientists are not yet in a position to subdue the elements; they cannot alter or divert the stream of lava which issues unchecked from the volcano, and which spreads death and destruction far and wide. But the scientists have discovered a way where-by they can cope with an unexpected deluge or flood, and that is: proper sewerage and drainage. The town of Caherciveen cannot be said to possess those qualities. The drains are unable to carry any volume of water, and after a slight fall of rain it is quite a common sight to see water-traps choked with mud and refuse and the streets in a state of inundation. The floods come in the front doors of the dwellings and out the back doors, and vice versa. The authorities have been repeatedly warned of this deplorable state of affairs. They still persist in their negligence and incompetence in coping with the situation. They have taken no steps to remedy the grievances; they evidently believe that a pill will cure an earthquake, and some fine morning we will find our little town safely installed in the land of Tir na nÓge, or perhaps in Utopia, safe from the ravages of floods and troubles. The citizens of Caherciveen should not allow their imaginations to run amok. They should realise that they happen to be in a hard world of reality, where there is little time for slumbering. At the present time they can only be compared with dead ducks floating on the rivers of Dreamland, without energy and without feeling. Surely it is now high time that the authorities should realise their responsibilities to the over-taxed ratepayers, who are almost in-undated with taxation. The sidewalks and pavements of this town are a disgrace to any civilised community. It is a great wonder to me why the people should tolerate such nuisances, and tamely submit to shattered feet and sprained ankles. Are we a nation of slaves? Mr. Michael McCarthy, one of the leading merchants of this town, informs me that the level of the public street is inches higher than the level of his pavements, so that the flood when it comes has little difficulty in gaining access to his premises and destroying his property; and then I know other parts of the same locality where the public street is feet below the level of the pavement – a regular Sierra Nevada, but not as picturesque.”

Source: The Liberator (23rd February 1924, p1)

The Deluge

There’s a flood in Barr na Sráide, Silvey Connor raises Cain.

‘Tis coming down like lava, and flooding all the lane.

There’s a flood in Old Market Street, Katie Murphy spells her ruin.

In wrath she grinds her teeth and dashes for her broom.

There’s a flood in stinking Pound Lane, Sure it steals a march.

Tom Murphy shouts “ Be sane”, ‘Twill only scour the arch.

There’s a flood in Main Street, Jim Walsh is at his post.

Every person he meets he greets, “Have you seen the ghost?”.

There’s a flood in Old Road, There’s music in the dell,

There’s excitement in the Four Courts, There’s chaos in Fitz’s Hotel.