the determined opinions that they held on this point, one of which is related in Hardiman’s “History of Galway,” to the effect that it was ordered, in 1518, “that none of the inhabitants should admit any of the Burkes, McWilliams, Kellys, or any other of their sept into their houses, and that neither O’ nor Mac shoulde strutte ne swagger through the streetes of Gallway.” It is a fact that the following singular inscription was formerly to be seen over the west gate:
“From the ferocious O'Flaherties,
Good Lord, deliver us.”
And in one of their bye-laws, of the date of 1518, we find it enacted that, “If any man should bring any Irishman to brage or boote upon the towne, to forfeit 12d.” From this exclusive system it naturally followed that the Galwegians formed a tolerably happy and contented community, neither marrying nor giving in marriage save with their own people, and keeping up a constant succession of their own name, to inherit their riches and honours from father to son. From its excellent situation as a trading port, Galway was particularly famous for its commercial intercourse with Spain, which year after year furnished not only many a good cellar of luscious Andalusian wine, but also Spanish visitors, often of the fair sex, who mingled their blood in marriage with that of the sturdy Galway merchant, and introduced those peculiarities of feature, dress, and architecture for which the town was so celebrated. With all the advantages derived from this rapid tide of civilisation, it soon extended in size and importance; and a map, of the time of Charles II., of which there are only two copies extant, gives an interesting account of the topography of the city, and of the enthusiastic feeling with which it was regarded by the inhabitants.
Not content with marking all the boundaries, streets, and buildings, the compilers formed a margin of Latin mottoes, emblematic of the glories of Galway, and wound up by the following modest description:
Rome boasts seven hills, the Nile its seven-fold stream,
Around the pole seven radiant planets gleam;
Galway, Conachian Rome, twice equals these;
She boasts twice seven illustrious families.
Twice seven high towers defend her lofty walls,
And polished marble decks her splendid halls.
Twice seven her massive gates, o’er which arise
Twice seven strong castles towering to the skies.
Twice seven her bridges, thro’ whose arches flow
The silvery tides majestically slow.
Her ample church with twice seven altars flames,
Our heavenly patron every altar claims;
While twice seven convents pious anthems raise
(Seven for each sex) to sound Jehovah’s praise.
Whatever we must allow for the pardonable exaggerations in this account, there is no doubt that Galway was singularly a-head of its time, and was moreover sharply looked after by its governors and mayors, in respect to public morals. Indeed, some of the laws might be quoted with great advantage, and applied to other towns, not only in Ireland, but in England.
To ensure commercial honesty the following law—date 1538—speaks well for the merchants: “That any person of this towne, that shall make any bargayn or contract in Spayne, Franch, or any other lands, for wyne, salt, yernes, or any other kind of wares, shall, afore he put the said shop or wares in booke or custome, fynde to the mayor and officers of this towne sufficient and substantiall surties that he or they shall wel and truly contente and pay the stranger of his payment, for the discharge and credit of the town and inhabitaunts thereof.”
Neither was the Board of Health and public morals neglected, as we find “that thaguavite that is soulde in town oughte rather to be called aqua-mortis, to poyson the people than comforte them in any good sorte, and in like manner all their bedere; and all wherein officers in reformynge the same, have nede to be more vigilante and inquisitive than they be.”
The female population was also carefully looked to, and in a manner that I fear few corporations would venture to act upon in the present day, and least of all with the fair Irish ladies, viz.: “That no woman shall were no gorgiouse aparell, but as becometh them to do, accordinge to ther callinge, and in espetiall they shall all together foregoe the wearing of any hatts or cappes otherwise collored than blacke, and upon them they shall weare no costlie hatt bands or cap bands of gold treede; the mayorasses only excepted.” The reader will notice here the precaution taken by the mayors, who passed this law, in avoiding home discussions by the saving clause, “the mayorasses only excepted!”
In the long list of mayors of Galway we find the same family often occupying the civic seat of honour for many years in succession; and in no case is this more evident than in the family of Lynch, who flourished from the thirteenth to the seventeenth century, with amazing regularity. It appears that eighty-four Lynches filled the office of mayor, without a break, for a period of 169 years. Touching this family, and the manner in which the laws were administered by its members, a singular legend is still told, which to disbelieve in were rank heresy. In 1493, the mayor’s seat was occupied by James Lynch Fitz-Stephen, who had done much towards promoting commercial intercourse with Spain, and to that end had even undertaken a journey himself to Cadiz, where he was received by Señor Gomez with every hospitality and mark of distinction. That he might in some degree show his sense of gratitude for all the kindness thus lavished upon him, he asked and obtained permission to take back the Spaniard’s favourite son, promising him safe conduct and parental care. The merchant arrived safely with his young charge in Galway, and introduced him into the bosom of his family, where he soon became a favourite, from his beauty and his winning manners.
The worthy mayor had an only son, unfortunately addicted to wild courses, but who had formed an attachment to a fair Galway lady—an attachment which the father fondly hoped might wean his heir from loose companions. And so might it have been, had not foul jealousy seized the unfortunate swain, who saw, or fancied he saw, his inamorata beam too lovingly on the handsome Spaniard. He watched him out of the