I Wandered About Galway, And To My Great Delight Had A Guide To Point
Out What Was Most Worth Looking At.
Of course I heard of the bravery of
the thirteen tribes of Galway, who snapped up Galway from the
O'Flaherties and assimilated themselves to the natives as more Irish
than themselves.
After walking about a little I did notice the arched
gateways and the highly ornamented entrance doors which they concealed.
The first place of interest pointed out to me was Lynch castle. From one
of the windows of this castle Warder Lynch, in 1493, hung his own son.
It is said from this act the name Lynch Law arose. The Lynch family,
originally Lintz, came from Lintz in Austria.
This mayor or Warder Lynch was a wealthy merchant trading with Spain. He
trusted his son to go thither and purchase a cargo of wine. The young
man fell into dissipation, and spent the money, buying the cargo on
credit. The nephew of the Spanish merchant accompanied the ship to
obtain the money, and arrange for further business. The devil tempted
the young Lynch to hide his folly by committing crime. Near the Galway
coast the young Spaniard was thrown overboard. All the friends of the
family and his father received the young merchant after his successful
voyage with great joy. The father consented to his son's marriage with
his early love, the daughter of a neighbor, who gladly consented to
accept the successful young merchant for his son-in-law. All went merry
as a marriage bell. Just before the marriage a confessor was sent for to
a sick seaman, who revealed young Lynch's crime. The Warder of Galway
stood at the bed of this dying man, and heard of the villany of his
beloved son. Young Lynch was arrested, tried, found guilty, and
sentenced. The mother of young Lynch, having exhausted all efforts to
obtain mercy for her son, flew in distraction to the Blake tribe - she
was a Blake - and raised the whole clan for a rescue. When the hour of
execution dawned, the castle was surrounded by the armed clan of the
Blakes, demanding that the prisoner be spared for the honor of the
family. The Warder addressed the crowd, entreating them to submit to the
majesty of the law, but in vain. He led his son - who, when he had borne
the shame, and came to feel the guilt of his deeds, had no desire to
live - up the winding stair in the building to that very arched window
that overlooks the street, and there, to that iron staple that is fixed
in the wall, he hung him with his own hands, after embracing him, in
sight of all the people. The father expected to die by the hands of the
angry crowd below, but they, awed, went home at a dead march. The mother
died of the shock, and the sternly just old man lived on. I looked at
his house in Lombard street.
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