Ratepayers’ Cultural Safety Briefing for the Maryland USA Mission (St Patrick’s Weekend Edition).
Tipperary ratepayers warmly welcome news of the proposed Maryland excursion by the CEO of Tipperary County Council, Ms Sinead Carr, along with the Cathaoirleach, Cllr Mr John Carroll and Mr Anthony Fitzgerald (Head of Enterprise and Economic Development and Tourism), latter a brave initiative in international relations, and an even braver initiative in free expensing, courtesy of Tipperary taxpayers.
However, before anyone is released into the wilds of a round of St Patrick’s weekend receptions, it is essential the travelling party completes the Maryland Compulsory Heritage Module, because nothing says “strategic engagement in quantum technologies” like being caught flat-footed on a 19th-century poem in front of a room of people who can quote it at you.
Module 1: Barbara Frietchie (1766 – 1862), [Fritchie, Fritchie-ish, depending on who’s correcting you].
All delegates must demonstrate a working knowledge of the famous Frederick legend in which an elderly woman allegedly waves the Union flag, while Stonewall Jackson passes through, and he, like a well-trained character in a civic morale story, obligingly delivers the appropriate line on cue.
Warning, this is not optional. In Maryland, this is basically local scripture, and you will be judged accordingly.
Module 2: Stonewall Jackson, not just a beard, a brand.
You don’t have to agree with the legend, but you must be able to nod thoughtfully, while someone says “Of course you know the story…” and you respond like a person who has absolutely not spent the flight learning it from a laminated handout.
Module 3: Frederick’s “Shared Heritage”.
Delegates are reminded that Frederick’s history has more edge than a brochure. For example, your hosts may be vaguely aware of the 1781 treason case in Frederick, (Mr Caroll please note), involving British loyalists, including Mr John Caspar Fritchie (Barbara’s father-in-law), convicted in a plot involving British prisoners and a rendezvous with Cornwallis in Virginia, resulting in their nasty executions two months later.
This is the part of “people-to-people ties” that rarely makes the PowerPoint, but it does wonders for small talk, if the canapés are slow coming out of the kitchen.
Assessment:
A short oral exam may occur at any point, possibly mid-toast, possibly in front of cameras. Passing grade requires:
- Correct pronunciation of “Frietchie/Fritchie” without looking panicked.
- Ability to smile as if you’ve always loved American Civil War folklore.
- The restraint not to say “Sure we’ve our own rebels at home” (referring to ‘People Before Profit’ and ‘Sinn Féin’), unless you enjoy diplomatic incidents.
Anyway, thank God, we are getting some return on our Property Taxes and it’s so comforting, because for a moment there I worried our money was being used efficiently. Now, with the bar so low (it’s basically underground), yet we are still managing to trip over it. Absolutely, nothing says ‘value for money’ like spotting that single working streetlight and the knowing that the Thurles potholes are really just a normal street feature.
Finally, ratepayers would like to reassure this delegation, that if you accidentally confuse Barbara Frietchie with any other historic flag-waver, don’t worry, the room will correct you instantly, with great enthusiasm, at full volume, and for free.
Safe travels. Spend wisely. Reports of any major successes in tourism, business, of course will be required. Oh and for the love of God, do your homework.
Now, to add some educational context; read the poem by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807 – 1892) latter published in October 1863.
Barbara Frietchie.
Up from the meadows rich with corn, clear in the cool September morn,
The clustered spires of Frederick stand green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep apple and peach-tree fruited deep,
Fair as a garden of the Lord to the eyes of the famished rebel horde,
On that pleasant morn of the early fall when Lee marched over the mountain wall,
Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot, into Frederick town.
Forty flags with their silver stars, forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind, the sun of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick town, she took up the flag the men hauled down;
In her attic window the staff she set to show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat left and right he glanced: the old flag met his sight.
“Halt!”, the dust-brown ranks stood fast, “Fire!”, out blazed the rifle-blast.
It shivered the window, pane and sash, it rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill, and shook it forth with a royal will.
“Shoot, if you must, this old grey head, but spare your country’s flag,” she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, over the face of the leader came.
The nobler nature within him stirred, to life at that woman’s deed and word.
“Who touches a hair of yon grey head dies like a dog! March on!” he said.
All day long through Frederick street, sounded the tread of marching feet,
All day long that free flag tossed over the heads of the rebel host.
Ever its torn folds rose and fell, on the loyal winds that loved it well,
And through the hill-gaps sunset light shone over it with a warm good-night.
Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er, and the Rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honour to her, and let a tear fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.
Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave, flag of Freedom and Union, wave,
Peace and order and beauty draw round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down on thy stars below in Frederick town!
End
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