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Henry Jones (1721–1744–1770)
- Cork University Press
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HENRY JONES (1721–1744–1770) Henry Jones was born near Drogheda and trained as a bricklayer. He began writing poems and was introduced to Lord Chesterfield, Lord Lieutenant at the time. Chesterfield gave Jones considerable support in Dublin and, later, in London where his Poems on Several Occasions (London and Dublin 1749) was very successful, as was his play, The Earl of Essex. Jones eventually took to drink and died in poverty. Earlier in the century, in 1705, the distinction between Irishmen who grew peas and beans (i.e. the planters whose farms were on rich soil) and those who grew potatoes (i.e. the native Irish, banished to farming on poor land in hilly regions) had been clarified in Seán Ó Neachtain’s poem ‘Cath Nearna Chroise Brighde’, ‘The Battle of Bearna Chroise Bridhde’.1 On a fine Crop of Peas being spoil’d by a Storm WHEN Morrice views his prostrate Peas, By raging Whirlwinds spread, He wrings his Hands, and in amaze He sadly shakes his Head. Is this the Fruit of my fond Toil, My Joy, my Pride, my Chear! Shall one tempestuous Hour thus spoil The Labours of a Year! Oh! what avails, that Day by Day I nurs’d the thriving Crop, 10 And settl’d with my Foot the Clay, And rear’d the social Prop! Ambition’s Pride had spur’d me on All Gard’ners to excell; I often call’d them one by one, And boastingly would tell, 228 The poem tells of a faction fight between the growers of peas and the growers of potatoes 1 that probably took place in County Wicklow in 1705. See Nicholas Williams’s edition of the poem in Zeitschrift für Celtische Philologie 38 (1981), 269–337. 229 Henry Jones How I prepared the furrow’d Ground, And how the Grain did sow, Then challenged all the Country round For such an early Blow.2 20 How did their Bloom my Wishes raise! What Hopes did they afford, To earn my honour’d Master’s Praise, And crown his chearful Board! Poor Morrice, wrapt in sad Surprize, Demands in sober Mood, Should Storms molest a Man so wise, A Man so just and good? Ah! Morrice, cease thy fruitless Moan, Nor at Misfortunes spurn, 30 Misfortune’s not thy Lot alone; Each Neighbour hath his Turn. Thy prostrate Peas, which low recline Beneath the Frowns of Fate, May teach much wiser Heads than thine Their own uncertain State. The sprightly Youth in Beauty’s Prime, The lovely Nymph so gay, Oft Victims fall to early Time, And in their Bloom decay. 40 In vain th’indulgent Father’s Care, In vain wise Precepts form: They droop, like Peas, in tainted Air, Or perish in a Storm. Blossom, flowering. 2 ...