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St Johnston & Carrigans

The Tragedy of Dunmore

You feeling hearted people,
I hope you’ll lend an ear,
And listen to these mournful lines,
I hope to let you hear,
Concerning this cruel crime
That came close to our door.
Three victims they lay side by side,
In the townland of Dunmore.

Their young son, being an invalid
And was their only heir,
He was carried out into the lawn,
Placed on a stretcher there,
His nurses left him happily,
Then turned inside to dine
For they little knew the murder plans,
Lay in his mother's mind.

Oh, if he had known when he came out,
Upon that fateful day,
That his mother would steal in behind,
And take his life away.
And when she done that cruel deed,
She could not bear the pain,
So she placed the rifle to her head,
And quickly pierced her brain.

His poor old father being innocent
Of the happenings of the day,
Came across the garden
And down to where he lay,
When he saw the blood stains on his cheeks,
He was stunned to the ground,
Then for his assistance he did call,
And his nurse came running down.

Come here he cried, come here at once,
And you see what is wrong
T’was there she calmly told him
That his little son was gone.
He filled with sorrow to his heart
Then quickly turned away
To Newton for the doctor,
By motor took his way.

His true love being out for a walk
Just came in at this time
She missed him from the garden
Then dread thoughts came to her mind
And as she entered in the hall
Sad news did meet her there

As she wrang her hands with fainting lips
Her sparkling eyes did stare.

How could I live without him,
Or next what shall I do?
Then she boldly walked into his room
And the rifle bolt she drew.
She placed it to her slender waist,
Then death came with a start.
She lay there bleeding by him,
For she loved him in her heart.

Oh Monday was their wedding day,
That she was to be his bride,
But the change came quickly to an end
From the church to the graveside.
You may go tell your highest age
But the world won’t overrun,
When the hour is timed - no one can tell,
When the tide doth take a turn.

The people of the village
And its country all around
Stood silent in the churchyard
And each one bore a frown,
To see the decent Colonel
With grief sunk in implore
As the corpses came slowly one by one
From their long home in Dunmore.


Composed by:
Moses Wray
Co. Donegal

24th Sept. 1938

Three Victims:
Mrs. McClintock.
William George McClintock (Son)
Helen MacWorth (Bride to be)

The nurse who was brought to the scene was Nurse Crumlish, a midwife who had been delivering a child that day in the village.  They initially thought William George had died of a brain haemorrhage. 


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