Potheen

Images of Ireland Past

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  1. The Drink

Unfortunately Ireland and the Irish have a reputation for taking strong drink, but it is over exaggerated. The following is a “Photo History” Ireland’s long association with alcohol of all sorts.

  • pugh kelly of 1 eden villas glassthule
Outside the Pub.

There was the legal enjoyment that occurred inside the pubs after the drink had arrived and the most popular drink was always the “Stout”, made by Arthur Guinness and Co.

  • Scanned by: Retouched by: DT- AN QC’d by: DT- KM GRADE : – B
Inside the Pub
A Drop of the black stuff

Then there is the illegal side – The Poteen, Mountain Dew, The Cratur, Moonshine, and a host of other names that give the illicit stills production a title.

The Stills of Ireland
A Shebeen (Illegal Drinking Den)

Poteen

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A poem by “Barney Maglone” aka Robert Arthur Wilson (1820-75)

Of all the navygations
That ever left the shore
I tell this mortal nation
‘Tis potheen I adore.
I have the tender crathur
All in her punchy dhress
And when she’s mother-naked
I love her none the less.
If she had but a night-dhress
Of Shugar on her skin,
I’m not the boy that would refuse
To take the swate one in.
Well I mind the lively night
Her mother, Sall, lay in;
How did I press the babe
Between my nose and chin.
An’ if she was ould as
Methoosalem’s first hat,
I’d love her as the crame’s loved by
That sleekit bastem, the cat.
If mighty Dutheronomy
That hayro of renown,
Likewise July-us Saizer
That won the British Crown –
If Hector an’ bowld Vaynus,
With Lusy-an the ass,
Also Neb-you-codnazzur,
So mighty at the grass –
Were all with Martin Luther,
With Gladstone, and with Lowe,
I’d box them left and right afore
I’d let my charmer go.
It’s thrue she has been thricky,
As Irish maids do be;
An’ I must own that sometimes
She’s played a prank on me.
She rowled me in the soft mud
One night she got me down,
When I was just meanderin’
About a mile from town.
She gave my eyes a paintin’
And gave my nose a swell,
Another winther’s evenin’
When huggin’ her too well.
But all these lovin’ capers
I aisily forgive
An’ if she knocks my branes out,
I’ll love her while I live.
I’d face the French and Prooshans’
An’ the Permissive Bill,
Afore, I’d lose my darlin’
The daughter of the still!

End