The Autobiography [orig. 1896] (Belfast: White Row Press 1996), extracts.

EDUCATION: ‘Ireland about this period was in a most sad and pitiful state with respect to education, or rather the want of it. Education was utterly disregarded by the successive administrations of the day; the unfortunate people, consequently, had no schools to which they could send their children. It was this condition of education in the north which occasioned so many poor scholars to be sent south, especially to Kerry.’ (Ibid., p.23.)

‘Although the state of education was, at the period of which I write, very low, and knowledge scanty among the people, yet it is surprising what a number of books, pamphlets and odd volumes, many of these works of fiction, I found among them. If you examined the number of Catholic families in the parish, you would find that one half of them could not read, yet several of these utterly illiterate persons had many of the works I have alluded to, most carefully laid up, under the hope that some young relation might be able to read them. I remember two, bywhich I was much struck - The Life of Edward Lord Herbert, and Defoe’s History of the Devil.’ (Ibid., p.73.)

IRISH MARRIAGES: ‘there is not a country in Europe where so many rash and unreflecting marriages are made as in Ireland; the habit has been a curse of the country. The youngsters manage their "runaways" in the following manner; they first determine upon "running away" which is only another phrase for getting married: the lover selects the [19] house of some relation or friend of his own, and after having given notice to that friend or relation of his intention, and having gained his assent, he informs the friend of the night when he and his sweetheart will come to their house as a "running away couple"; and in order that they may not be without the means of celebrating the event with a due convivial spirit, he generally places a gallon of unchristened whisky in their hands. The night of their arrival at the house of that friend or relation is of course a jolly one. On the next morning the friend or relation goes to their respective families and discusses the fact of their "runaway". The girl is then brought to her family and remains there until the marriage takes place.’ (Life of Carleton, ed. O’Donoghue, 1896, Vol. I, p.94; Autobiography, White Row Press 1996, p.86; quoted in Patrick Sheeran, The Novels of Liam O’Flaherty, Dublin: Wolfhound Press 1976, p.19.)

‘[...] I have two observations to make on this, or rather two facts to state in connection with it; the one is, no human being ever heard of a runaway taking place except at night; the other is, that if the families of the young couple cannot, or will not, come to terms - as in the case of social factions sometimes happens - and that the marriage is absolutely broken off, no Irishman living would every think of marrying the girl afterwards’.

Speaks of ‘a fact brought to light which accounts for the single blessedness to which the female [...] is uniformly condemned in such a case.’ (p.87.)

LOUGH DERG PILGRIMAGE: Carleton calls his story “The Lough Derg Pilgrim” ‘probably one of the most extraordinary productions that every appeared in any literature. And further: ‘It resembles a coloured photograph more than anything else. There is not a fact or incident or a single penal step of duty - and God knows there is many a penal step to be taken there - which is not detailed with the minuteness of the strictest truth and authenticity. There is not even an exaggeration of any kind in my account of it. [...] The Hon. Charles Gavan Duffy, now in Australia, made a pilgrimage there, long subsequent to mine, and he assured me that the truth and extrordinary accuracy of my description of it surprised him nore than anything he had ever read.

It was that pilgrimage and the reflections occasioned by it, added to a riper knowledge and a maturer judgement, that detached me from the Roman Catholic Church, many of whose doctrines, when I became a thinking man, I could not force my judgement to believe. Still, although I conscientiously left the hurch, neither my heart nor my affectiosn were ever estranged from the Catholic people, or even from their priesthood.’ [Mentions Dr. McNally and Dr. Murray as particular friends]. (The Life of William Carleton, ed. D. J. O’Donoghue, Vol. 1, NY 1979 [Garland facs of 1896 Edn.], p.102[f.]; Autobiography, MacGibbon & Kee edn., 1968, p.91[?]; Autobiography, Belfast: White Row Press 1996, p.91-92).

ADMIRABLE “CHARACTERS”: ‘God help us! How many admirable and original characters are there in life of whom the world neither has nor knows anything - men whom to examine would present a profound and interesting study to him who wishes to become thoroughly acquainted with human nature. They pass away, however, like the phantoms of a dream, and leave no memory or impression behind them. Qui caveat sano vate!’ (p.141.)

TELLING TALES: ‘[...] The neighbouring families began almost to quarrel as to which of them should receive me. The only equivalent I could bestow was the narrative of the old classical legends, which I transmogrified and changed into an incredible variety of shapes. I would have given them Irish legends, and sometimes did, but then the Irish legends did not show the “larnin”.

I made one discovery, while leading this extraordinary kind of life, and that was the power of my own invention. It did not [146] indeed strike me very forcibly then, but since that time I have reflected on it with something like wonder. Finding that it would not do to go over the same ground so often, I took to inventing original narratives, and was surprised at the facility with which I succeeded. This new discovery was as great an amusement to myself as it was to my audience. I used to compose these fictions in the course of the day, while walking about, and recite them at the fireside in the evening. I was beginning to enjoy a certain degree of local fame, which constituted me a treasure to whatever neighbourhood I stopped in. The number of people who came to hear me in the evening was surprising, as were the distances they came from. In fact I became a regular improvisatore, and was the subject of many a wondering conversation among the people. I had lost all hope in life, and took it for granted that I was then in the highest position which I should ever reach. I had no motive of action, and avoided looking into the distance before me - a distance which to me was a perfect blank.’ (p.146-47.)

THE ORANGE ORDER: ‘Merciful God! In what a frightful condition was the country at that time. I speak now of the North of Ireland. It was then, indeed, the seat of Orange ascendancy and irresponsible power. To find a justice of the peace not an Orangeman would have been an impossibility. The grand jury room was little less than an Orange lodge. There was then no law against an Orangeman, and no law for a Papist. I am now writing not only that which is well known to be historical truth, but that which I have witnessed with my own eyes.’ (1996 Edn., p.37.)

THE RIBBONMEN: ‘The reader will observe that there was a vagueness and a want of object in this ridiculous oath [given earlier in full] which gave conclusive evidence that it must have proceeded from a very ignorant source. I subsequently made inquiries into its origin, but could never ascertain the name of any man possessed of the slightest claim to respectability in connection with it. It originated with, and was confined to, the very lowest dregs of the people. That some scheming vagabonds must have been at the head of it, or the bottom of it is evident enough. Money was subscribed for fictitious objects, but where it went to no one could tell. In the county Louth it was set going by an Orangeman called Gubby (evidently an assumed name), and I think it was afterwards discovered that he was a native of Middleton, in that part of the county Tyrone which projects into the county of Armagh. This discovery, however, was made too late - for he had left the country.

l am not a friend to any of these secret societies, because they were nothing but curses to the country. The Orange system is a curse to the country, and will be so as long as it exists. It is now comparatively harmless, but at the period of which I write it was in the very height of its ascendancy, and seemed to live only as if its great object were to trample upon “Popery”. The truth, however, is, if there can be an apology for Ribbonism, that it was nothing more nor less than a reactive principle against Orangeism, of whose outrages it was the result. In my works I have depicted both systems to the marrow, without either favour or affection, as the phrase has it. I never entertained any ill feeling against the people on either side; it is their accursed systems which I detest.’ (1996 Edn., p.80.)