St Patrick’s Day is approaching – a day of shamrocks and swigging – all in ardent celebration and memory of Armagh’s world famous patron Saint.
Many moons ago – 267 years to be precise – St Patrick’s Day in Armagh was a contentious day. It either remained a day of celebration or it passed as one in mourning.
It was the day that marked the execution of one of South Armagh’s most infamous “outlaws”, Seamus MacMurphy – and all for the sin of “stealing a sheep”.
MacMurphy’s tale is almost Shakespearean. If it’s to be believed, the man – regarded as “one of the handsomest men of his day” – was sent to his death, by none other than the scorned love of his life, for the price of fifty pounds and the sweet taste of revenge.
Details of the story lay within Volume One of the ‘Armachiana‘ – a collection of unpublished writings by the first curator of Armagh County Museum, TGF Paterson.
Paterson – who appeared to have been relatively fond of MacMurphy – regarded him as certainly “much more interesting” than the more commonly known outlaw, Count Redmond O’Hanlon.
It’s pages describe Seamus to have been born to an “old Irish family” within the Creggan Parish of South Armagh. His ancestors are said to be among the earliest Chieftains of the Fews.
After having originally settled near Minterburn, on the outskirts of Caledon, the MacMurphys were “pushed” into the Fews by the O’Neill clan of Tyrone at the end of the 13th century where they eventually settled having secured a relative stronghold in the area.
Seamus was born in 1720 and, as he grew, he became enmeshed in the world of criminality. By today’s standards he would most likely be viewed as somewhat of a petty criminal engaging regularly in the theft of stock and “raiding travellers”. Regardless, he and others like him, were a nuisance to the community and their crimes were taken extremely seriously.
Yet, he was a rebel with a heart. Beyond his life of crime, MacMurphy was a wordsmith with Paterson holding him in high esteem as a “poet of no mean order”.
While his poetry may be his most redeeming quality, he had his flaws. Paterson explains that he had “two besetting sins, drinkings and promiscuous love-making” – and both would be his downfall.
We know today that rarely did anything good come from frequenting a shebeen (an often illicit public house for the sale of unlicenced alcohol) but in MacMurphy’s day these were often the meeting spots of the unruly – useful in the planning of illegal activity.
A shebeen was also the place where the rogue came to meet his femme fatale in the daughter of its owner – the “handsome” Molly.
Molly’s father – a man known locally as “Paddy of the Mountain” – owned the Flagstaff Shebeen. One of his lieutenants by the name of Art Fearon also had his eye on young Molly and, with the intention of marrying the woman, is said to have encouraged her to turn against the man who really held her heart – MacMurphy.
As a handsome man himself and with a reputation of promiscuity – it wasn’t hard to convince Molly that MacMurphy had been unfaithful to her.
His illegal activity had put a price of fifty pounds on his head, which was price enough for Paddy of the Mountain.
With a gentle nudge from Art, Paddy wanted MacMurphy turned in for the “blood money” and the scorned Molly, equally, wanted her pound of flesh.
Together the trio devised a plan to incapacitate MacMuprhy by imbibing him with enough of his first love that he would be powerless to their whims.
Once sufficiently marinated, they would then transport him to the authorities in Armagh where he would be incarcerated.
Their plan went off without a hitch and Paterson said that when MacMurphy awoke on the morning of his capture he found himself “under heavy guard”.
While he undoubtedly committed many a crime, the one he was ultimately charged with was for “stealing a sheep” – a crime Paterson notes as being punishable by death at that time.
He was sentenced to hang on St Patrick’s Day 1758. The Armachiana explains that the event saw crowds descend “armed with staves”.
On the day, MacMurphy was paraded through Market Street, Castle Street and Irish Street before making his final ascent onto Gallows Hill.
Notably, Paterson said that he “met his death without fear, forgiving all who had wronged him” including his beloved Molly.
His body “swung in the breeze for three days” before being removed to be waked and “keened” at his mother’s barn in Carnally. He was subsequently buried in Creggan.
But, the story does not end with MacMurphy’s death.
Paddy who had instigated the man’s arrest came to collect his share of the reward. Tradition states that authorities were so “disgusted with his behaviour” that they paid him the reward in copper coins which were handed to him in a bag.
There were no banks to lodge the coins and so Paddy had to make his journey from Armagh to Flagstaff on foot bearing this heavy load.
In fear of being “molested” (attacked) by those who also believed he had wronged MacMurphy he travelled by night and hid by day.
It’s said that he was in sight of his home when he finally collapsed and died.
Molly was left alone to lament her own part in her lover’s death while mourning the additional loss of her father.
It is alleged that folk continued to taunt her for days, weeks and months with MacMurphy’s final ‘prison poem’, so much so, that she eventually succumbed to the torture – taking her own life – by drowning.
