27. The Last of the Gleemen

© Robbie O’Connell 1985 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

I first encountered the much cherished name “Zozimus” in the late 1960s when Ireland’s national television station, then known as Teilifís Éireann, had a folk music program called “As Zozimus Says.” Later on, I came across the story, The Last Gleeman, in the W.B. Yeats book, Mythologies. It recounted a tale about the famous Dublin street performer, Michael J. Moran, better known as Zozimus, a nickname that came from one of his popular biblical tales about a certain Bishop Zozimus.

He was born in Faddle Alley in the Liberties of Dublin in 1794. The smallpox he contracted at an early age, left him blind for life. Possibly due to that affliction, he developed a prodigious memory and made his living as a gleeman or street performer, entertaining audiences for decades with his poems, songs and stories. He was the nineteenth century equivalent of a late night talk show host who used irreverent humor to pillory the establishment of the day. He was beloved by the people of Dublin and his songs and stories became part of the folklore of the city.

Several of his songs have survived, the best known probably being “The Finding of Moses,” in which that biblical event is hilariously relocated to a Dublin locale. I will forever associate it with the singing of the great Frank Harte who popularized it in the 1960s. Another song, “St. Patrick Was A Gentleman,” was recorded by Christy Moore, early in his legendary career. “The Twangman,” often associated with The Dubliners, is also attributed to him. There is some speculation that “The Night Before Larry Was Stretched” was also written by Zozimus although that might be a stretch too far.

He eventually became so famous that people began to impersonate him, much to his chagrin as that kind of competition drastically reduced his income. W. B. Yeats tells of Moran’s encounter with one such imposter who competed with him on a wager. That incident is also the theme of my song. The lyrics of the chorus are the actual words he would recite to gather an audience at one of his favourite performance spots such as the Essex Bridge across the Liffey. When he died in 1846, his funeral was said to be the largest ever seen in Dublin. He was buried in Glasnevin Cemetery where his grave, near Daniel O’Connell’s, remained unmarked for over a hundred years until the folk group The Dublin City Ramblers kindly erected a tombstone in his memory.

The recording used here is from my 1989 album, Love of the Land.

Lyrics:

THE LAST OF THE GLEEMEN

© Robbie O’Connell 1985 Slievenamon Music (BMI)¹

He would stand everyday on the bridge 
With a crowd hanging on every word 
And he'd weave a spell with his stories of old 
And the news of the day that he'd heard 
He would tell any tale they would ask 
Though he'd told them for thousands before 
And then someone would pass 'round the hat 
And he'd sing while they waited for more:

Chorus:
Gather 'round me boys, gather 'round, 
And hear what I have to say 
Before ould Sally brings to me 
Some bread and a jug of tae.

But one day as he came near the bridge 
He could hear his own song in the air 
And a story being told in his very own words 
As he stood there in wonder and fear 
Then in anger he called to the crowd 
Have you no souls at all to be saved! 
That impostor he said, should be thrown off the bridge 
For it's more than a blind man can bear."

The impostor he paid him no mind
As he passed his hat 'round once again
Then he took the old man by the hand
Saying a wager he'd won with his friends
Then a pardon he begged for the jest
All the money he then handed o'er
And he slipped away into the crowd
As the old man, he started once more

Now Dublin's seen many a change 
Since wheels rattled on cobblestones 
And the day of the horse and the pony are gone 
There's no time to stop anymore 
But today if you walk on that bridge 
You can see where he once sang his song 
He was the last of the gleemen of old 
And the name Zozimus still lives on.

1. FROM THE LINER NOTES of Love of the Land:
Michael Moran, a.k.a. Zosimus, lived between 1794 and 1846. Struck blind at age two, he made use of his razor sharp wit and unfailing memory to delight the citizens of Dublin with songs, stories, and political satire. The incident in this song is recounted by W. B. Yeats in his “Mythologies.” Many of Moran’s songs are still heard in Ireland.
Robbie O’Connell—Vocal and Guitar
Roxanne O’Connell—Harmony Vocal
Mick Moloney—Harmony Vocal
Eileen Ivers—Fiddle
Recorded at Wellspring Sound Studio, 960 Beacon Street, Newton, Massachusetts
Engineer, Eric Kilburn • Additional engineering, Cyril Lance
Produced by Robbie O’Connell