My Irish great-grandfather, who came from County Cavan, wasn't a convict but he was a (self) exile to Australia. After a bad experience in the "Land War", he left Ireland (via England) on a sailing ship in his early 20s in 1882. Never went back. Became a successful manager of a butter factory, member of a local hibernian association and a horse racing club, married and had eight children. Is obliquely mentioned in the vaguely autobiographical book, "I can jump puddles" by Allan Marshall. Died in a country town in southwest Victoria in 1943.
Lyrics My name is James O'Donnell, In iron and chains I'm bound. In exile from my native land, As a traitor to the crown. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. I was born into the Dublin streets, A native wild and free. When I was young I'd sport and run By the Coombe and liberties. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. And all were poor, we did endure The worst of old John Bull. The depravations of our lot, We swore we'd pay in full. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. So I joined the brave militia men And assembled in a band. We marched on, the fight to win, And free our native land. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. We fought hard and we fought long, But outnumbered five to one. We were hunted through the lanes and streets, Killed with pikes and guns. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. Some were hung, on the gibbet spun, Woeful was their fate. I was taken to Kilmainham Gaol My sentence to await. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. The jury found me guilty, I stood my crime to pay. The Judge called out from the dock, You're bound for Botany Bay. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. I saw my aged father Trembling at the bar. Likewise I saw my mother Tearing her white hair. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. I was put on board a vessel, Moored at Customs House Quay. The sailors stood around and jeered, "No more this land you'll see." Oh son, oh son, you're days are done, You're bound for Botany Bay I watched old Eireann fade from view, And tears did fill my eyes. That verdant land I'll see no more, Until the day I die. Oh son, oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. My Name is James O'Donnell, In iron and chains I'm bound. In exile from my native land, A traitor to the crown. Oh son oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay. Oh son oh son, where are you gone, You're bound for Botany Bay.
I am french and I don't understand everything but I love this song and this singer (I discorvered him in Stromness while orkney festival ) Great, great, great......If someone could explain me this song , please do !
European colonization of Australia started with England sending there convicts here (Australia). A person could be sent to Australia for theft of food. Most were poor and illiterate, victims of the Poor Laws and social conditions in Georgian England, taken from there family's and life in England and sent to Botany Bay (Sydney).
One can only realy dislike this, if politics and borders have become more important than Tunes and Storys. Listen again and rethink, I beg you. These 7 dislikes truly wrench my heart.
Look at the history of most Irish songs they are pure rip offs of English folk songs, like this 🤦♂️ and then claim them as their originals. Quite fascinating actually. And I’m from New Zealand. So much for your ‘proud’ identity
What a strange comment, Connor. Folk music is always based on something that came earlier; people and nations in close contact borrow, "steal" and adapt music from each other -- which is a GOOD thing. And it's called "folk music" if we don't know the author. But this is not a folk song. Doyle himself explains that he set his text to the tune of an existing folk song, "Whitby Town" about an English boy (actually the song is called Whitby Lad, I gather). And why cannot people be proud of things that are worth being proud of? Like this fine song. Or when a group of people overcomes hardships and oppression.
Wouldn't be surprised if your name was a "ripoff" of Ó'Colmáin, the interaction went and goes both ways. Look at the amount of English modern music icons, who have Irish blood-The Smiths, Oasis, The Beatles, Johnny Rotten, David Bowie, Dexy's Midnight Runners, Elvis Costello, Kate Bush and many more. Not to mention politics, the "Tories" being nothing but Irish outlaws.
