Johnny seoighe is amongst a unique group of songs that written during the Irish famine (although whether it was a natural famine or a callous attempt of ethnic cleansing is a question that is debated by many serious historians) by somebody who suffered the through that trial of starvation, destitution, and official neglect. Considering his desperation it is amazing that its starving author could actually compose. One would think that being inches away from starving to death, writing songs would be the last thing on his mind.

It has often been remarked that the famine was marked by a deathly silence in the country. - Not an animal or human voice was to be heard and the roads were chocked with the wraith like figures of the destitute; too weak to move or talk. - That silence was manifest in the folklore that survived from the period as well.

The eponymous Johnny Seoighe in the song was the famine relief officer in the area around the small town of Carna in Galway's barren Connemara. The author of the song approached Johnny Seoighe for help, but he was referred to the local workhouse. When he walked to the Workhouse with his family he was told that the Workhouse was full and was told to go to Johnny Seoighe. On the road his entire family died from exhaustion and hunger.
The following translation of an extract from the second verse illustrates this point
"I am scalded, burnt, scoured and flayed,
Sodden and cut with the effort of walking.
Ah but Mister Joyce the workhouse is full,
And they won't accept anybody in any more."

I can only imagine the bitterness and rage this man must have felt and which he directs at the figures of officialdom in this song. The song certainly impresses that seething rage on the listener. It says so much for the author, Tomás Siúnach’s, spirit that he had the energy to compose this acerbic and powerfully angry attack on Johnny Seoighe.

Famine relief work typically involved building stone walls like this around the landlords estates. The pay on such schemes was miserable even by Irish standards where labour cost onle a third the price of labour in England

It was remarked to me once that the Famine killed off the stories because the carriers of the folklore and songs were the poorest classes and these were the ones that died, taking their history with them. I will forever be indebted to the people of Connemara and of course the song's author who have carried this livid testimony of that time.

Words

Is a Johnny Seoighe tuig mo ghlórtha
'S mé ag tíocht le dóchas faoi do dhéin
Mar is tú an réalt eolais is breáichte lóchrann
Os mo chomhair ag teampall Dé
S' tú bláth na hóige is deise glórtha
Dár leag mo shúil air ó rugadh mé
Gus as ucht Chríost tabhair dom relief
Nó go gcaitear oíche Nollag féin

Is an lá arna mhárach sea fuair mé an páipéar
'S nach mé a bhí sásta 's mé gabháil un siúil
Ach ní bhfuair mise freagra ar bith an lá sin
Ach mé féin is mo pháistí bheith amuigh faoin drúcht
Tá mé bruite dóite sciúrtha feannta
Liobraithe gearrtha le neart den tsiúil
Gus a mhister Joyce tá an workhouse lán
is ní ghlacfar ann isteach níos mó

'S nach mór an ghlór é do bhaile Charna
An fhad 's tá an lánúin seo 'dhul thríd
Mar is deise ‘gus is breáichte scéimh na mná
Ná an Morning Star nuair a shoilsíonn sí
Tá an bhanríonn tinn is í go lag ina luí
Deir dochtúirí go bhfaighidh sí bás
Sé fios an údair de réir mar a deir siad liomsa
Ná nach bhfuil sí pósta le mister Joyce