Inverbrena 2004

A Note on “Inverbrena”

The name first appears in the Annals of the Four Masters as ‘Inver Brena’ – the mouth of the Bren river and identifies the narrow neck of water through which the tide rushes into Loch Cuan.

Chairman’s Note.

Dear Readers and friends of the Inverbrena History Group, I feel privileged to address you as Chairman even though I have just joined the society. I wish to pay tribute to Willie Crea for his years of stirling service as Chairman since we first began. He is still with us as an active member, giving us of his wit, humour and advice.

We are an enthusiastic collection of individuals, all interested in the history of our local area. Memories, recollections and long lost facts come to the fore at all our meetings and these form the basis for our magazine which has gone into its eighth year. We are pleased to have been short listed from a large entry in a Northern Ireland Publication Resource competition run by the Linnenhall Library. Our annual publications will be preserved in the national archives for future generations. Hopefully you, of this generation, will find our magazine equally interesting for your children. Your help in gathering a collection of local photographs of people, places and stories is invaluable to us now. Please consider joining our group.

The members and myself regret the passing of a village stalwart, Paddy Corrigan.

Fortunately we were able to note some of his memories in time to preserve them for the future. Our sincere sympathy goes to his sister Peggy and his extended family.

Bobby Magee.

“For the olden memories fast are flying from us, Oh! That some kind hand would come And bind them in a garland e’re the present hardens And the past grows cold and dumb.”

Anon.

Cover pic: Old aerial picture of Strangford, taken in 1920’s. * Note: retaining wall for the ‘Green’ not yet built.

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Contents A History of The Wychcraft Class..........................Bobby Magee

page 3

The Quayles of Castletown...................................Ronnie Buchanan

page 12

The Tower Houses of Lecale.................................Eamon McMullan

page 14

Paddy Corrigan talks to Willie Crea......................Willie Crea

page 21

The Cobblers of Strangford..................................Paddy Corrigan

page 23

Home Words........................................................Isobel Magee

page 24

The Raholp Revenant..........................................May McMullan

page 41

The First Ordination in Kilclief............................Peig Denvir

page 43

Tribute to Nurse Nan McManus..........................Peig Denvir

page 46

Michael McLaverty...............................................Ronnie Buchanan

page 48

Life Around The Slip and Along The Shore...........Eamon McMullan

page 50

The Potato Trade in Strangford in the Late 40s......Isobel Magee

page 55

The Calf Path (collected)......................................George McKibbin

page 60

The Strangford Presbyterian Church.....................George A. McKibbin

page 61

Come Back Old Scenes........................................Anon

page 65

Inverbrena Local History Group...........................Members

page 66

Plum Pudding 1940......................................................................................... page 67 Notes.............................................................................................................. page 68

Acknowledgments The editor wishes to thank: All members of our group who compiled or submitted the articles for this issue.

Colin & Damian McKee and staff at Flixx Graphics for their forbearance and helpfulness at all times.

Down County Council Community Relations Section for their financial conbribution.

P.D. 2

Inverbrena Local History Group Magazine 2004

Recollections of Sailboat Racing in Strangford

by Bobby Magee

Part 2- A History of the Wychcraft Class In the winter of 1956/57 a search and debate to find a new class of boat to supplement the traditional punts was underway in Strangford.The young sailors who started crewing in the punts in the early 1950’s had completed their apprenticeship in various trades and wished to own their own boats.

Numerous enquiries were undertaken and many replies and recommendations received.

Visits were arranged to Killyleagh to view and access the International Lightning Class that was established in the Club - some of this Class were owned and constructed by former classmates from Downpatrick Technical School.

Adverts in yachting magazines brought replies from the National Flying Fifteen Association, the Yachting World 14’ Dayboat, the Redwing Association from Devon amongst others. Senan Sharvin recommended the 14’Waterwag, a long established class from Dun Laoghaire and said he could obtain plans. The 17’ Dublin Bay Mermaid was also talked about as being a suitable boat for racing on the river.

This was the period of the dinghy ownership boom when lightweight marine plywood boats exploded on the scene, such as the GP14 and the Enterprise. These designs were considered but discarded on the grounds of safety as they were prone to capsizing, which in these waters could very easily lead to tragedy because of the strong tides and whirlpools. We could not compromise on safety.

The limited woodworking skills within the group were another factor, and that was at the forefront of the thinking. In conclusion it was thought that a clinker built boat was beyond our capability. This ruled out several of the otherwise suitable designs.

However, after all the considerations the best solution was found in Strangford itself.

Leslie Peto had served as an Engineer in the Naval Air Sea Rescue fleet, which was based in Portaferry. His adventures in his off duty time took him to Strangford where he met and married a Strangford girl, Betty McKeown. When the hostilities of World War 2 ended the family moved to his home on the South Coast of England where he became one of the leading developers of the commercial caravan sites with a design called The Petone. By the mid 1950’s failing health dictated the family return to the peace and quiet of Strangford and “semi retirement” Leslie Peto was not a man to sit with his feet up. He soon constructed a modern workshop on the former site of his father-in-law’s abattoir.

He was the supreme craftsman working with wood, metal or any other material.

Leslie then turned his creative mind to building a boat. During his Naval Service he was impressed by the Royal Navy 14’ (or Admiralty) dinghy and obtained a set of plans.

The Royal Navy 14’ (or Admiralty) dinghy was clinker built but Les chose to use the strip plank method of construction. Work on the project continued mostly behind closed doors. When the hull was near completion he required some welding done on the fittings so he made the acquaintance of Kevin Polly, a local motor mechanic and Sailing Club member. On examination of the new hull Kevin was highly impressed and in conversation told Les that the Club was looking for a new design and his craft was just what was needed. Les promised he would help in the building of a fleet. He had already agreed to build one for Alan McDowell.

Kevin told his brother Malachy of the situation and he in turn relayed the news to myself.

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A visit to the workshop was arranged and we were also suitably impressed with what we saw and gave great consideration to the proposals.

The Ballyholme Insect Class is also based on the Admiralty dinghy so a visit to Bangor confirmed our assessment of the design. Senan Sharvin also visited the boat shed and said that the design was nearly identical to the Waterwag.The opinion of John Fitzsimmons, who sailed these dinghies at Plymouth and other ports when he served in the Royal Navy, was sought and he gave a very positive approval.

Malachy Polly and myself then made the decision to proceed and build one each.

The first requirement was to find a suitable workshop and we were very fortunate to be granted a section of the barn in Quayle’s yard, which had been purchased by the Polly family for their block making and building contracts headquarters.

The project was started on Easter Saturday 1957 with the building of the jig. The first keel was laid on Easter Tuesday and work on the frame etc, quickly followed. There were plenty of willing helpers including brothers Kevin Polly, Joe Polly, Harry Magee, Hugh Magee, and Pat Magee with Godfrey Curran, Dermot Boden and Willie Shields weighing in also. Willie was an important member of the team for his woodworking skills were called upon for the awkward joints and very much appreciated. We also had frequent inspections by Johnny Travers.

Kevin Polly manufactured all the metal fittings including the centreboard and rudder blade in Messer’s Elliott’s garage under the direction of Donald Elliott and their team produced high-class accessories, some of which are still in service.

The total cost of the first self-built boats was approximately £120.00. No one remembers the asking price of the boats produced commercially by Les Peto other than it would be negotiable.

Soon after the work was started on our boats, interest spread and Willie John Mullan, Bill Swail and Dessie Swail decided to build one in partnership. Leslie Peto said he would build one in addition to Alan McDowell’s boat and offer it for sale; Dr Paddy Moore purchased this boat.

Portaferry then got into the act when John Murray came over and saw the work in progress and decided to proceed and build one. This decision was quickly followed by Gerry Smyth and so another addition to the fleet was made.

Tommy Hanna then started to construct one side by side with the Mullan and Swail boat. Work on these boats was carried out in Tommy Dougherty’s loft in John’s Lane.

Donald Elliott commissioned Nicky Curran to build his boat and James O’Neill and family commenced the construction of their craft. Nicky McMullan, of the Hawaiian Band fame, came over to Strangford and made an offer to Tommy Hanna, which could not be refused, and so a boat that was started in Strangford was finished in Portaferry.

A friend of Frankie McKeown (Les Peto’s brother in law) constructed one in Belfast in a warehouse on Ormeau Ave. In all in the first year twelve boats were finished.The No. 13 was started in the Ards (the man’s name escapes me) but I think it was never finished and I have never seen any record of her existence.

The overall length of the boats was 14’ with a beam of 5’4”. The minimum weight was to be 395 lbs with all the fixed metal work in situ. The minimum number of crew was 2 persons for racing.

Mr Peto’s own boat, No1 “First Witch”, was launched in the summer of 1957. Pat Swail sailed her in the Handicap Class at the Regattas and won the Dinghy Handicap at Whiterock.

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In order to help the budding boat builders, especially those with limited woodworking skills, Les Peto devised a method of construction using 12 planks a side instead of the 24 strip planks he used for the first boat. This method called for 12 stringers to be let into the frames forming a mould or skeleton with the planking bevelled and butted and then glued and screwed to the stringers.This gave the boats a threepenny bit or umbrella effect. A variation to the Royal Navy 14’ (or Admiralty) dinghy plans included fitting a marine plywood deck which in later years proved a Godsend seeing the amount of water diverted back into the river and not into the bilges.

The rig adopted was the current Royal Navy 14’ dinghy plan and was Gunter rig of some 120 sq ft in total. The sails were Egyptian Cotton and were made at Wroxham in Norfolk by Jeckells and Sons. This sail plan was designed by Uffa Fox the celebrated Yacht designer and helmsman for the Duke of Edinburgh. With the Gunter rig the Wychcraft were to share some features with the punts although the Wychcraft sported a foresail or jib.

The boats were well under construction and had not yet got a class name. A meeting was called and it was agreed that Les Peto should do the honours. His choice was “Wychcraft” which, if I remember correctly, was called after a River near his home in Sussex. The Class has from time to time been called “Witchcraft or “Wytchcraft” but Les explained to me that it was Wych as in the Wych Elm tree.

A Wychcraft Owners Association was formed and a comprehensive set of rules was agreed. These were considered necessary to maintain the One Design concept of the Class. Sail numbers were allocated as the keels were laid unlike the punts, which had even numbers for Strangford and odd numbers for Portaferry.

The boats were named and are listed on next page “Accase” was the name chosen by Dr Moore for his boat and he explained the reason: if there was a call for his services in his off duty hours his family could reply truthfully that he was out on “a case”. Nevertheless if he was urgently required in an emergency during racing he arranged that one gun be fired and he would return to shore immediately.

When the boats were completed and ready for launching in the Spring of 1958 they were blessed by Father Crossan who said it was the first time he was asked to perform the ceremony and found a special blessing and prayers especially for boats.

My mother asked me to promise not to go out in the boat on Whit Sunday and I have kept that promise to this day;­this is a local superstition practised by families associated with the sea.

The big day arrived, Easter Sunday 1958 was the launch day. George McDonnell had arranged moorings for us.We went to Mass at 8.00am to enable us to get the boats down to the slip during 10.00am Mass to reduce the number of spectators and critics in case our efforts to keep water out were unsuccessful with the resulting embarrassment. But we need not have worried, as the boats were quite watertight. Unfortunately the wind increased during the morning to near gale force and we were not able to have a trial sail until the conditions improved a couple of days later, this was a disappointment but we made up for it afterwards.

Building the boats was a labour of love. I met Dermot Boden recently and he reminded me of the enjoyment (and sometimes frustrations) we got from the long hours during 1957/58 at the building and finishing our part of the fleet.

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Wychcraft Dinghy Class Boats and Owners NO.

NAME

ORIGINAL OWNER

OTHER OWNERS

BUILDER

CONSTRUCTION

1

First Witch

A.P Grant

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

2

St Joan

Les Peto, C Pinkerton A Murray Alan Mcdowell H Dougherty

T Mcalinden

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

3

Accase

Dr. Moore, S O'neill

D Elliott

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

4

Sceptre

M Polly

M Curran, B Magee

M Polly

Plank Carvel

5

Anne

B Magee

Plank Carvel

6

Patricia

D Swail, W Swail W.J. Mullan

B Magee M Polly D Swail

Plank Carvel

7

Mary

J Murray

J Murray

Plank Carvel

8

Activ 2

D Elliott

N Curran

Plank Carvel

9

Master McGrath

G Smyth, R Herron

W.S Brownlow

G Smyth

Plank Carvel

10

Dair

N Mcmullan J Watson

E Elliott, N Mcmullan D Brown, A Hudson

T Hanna

Plank Carvel

11

Cathy

J O'neill

J O'neill

Plank Carvel

Mr Faulkner

Mr Faulkner

Plank Carvel

T Connor

Plank Carvel

J Polly

Plank Carvel

A Finney

Plank Carvel

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

12

P Campbell B O'Neill

13

NO RECORD

14

Kia - Ora

T Connor

15

Skylark

J&W Polly

16

Wayward Wind

A Finney

17

Obeah

O Curran, J Fitzsimmons

18

Kurrajong

D & J Murphy

T Hanna

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

19

Annette

F Howard

D Hinds, D Rodgers

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

20

A Napier

Brian Faulkner

Les Peto

Plank Carvel

21

J Melia

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

22

J.W. Pooler

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

W Hawthorne, R Dunn

E Whiteside, H Taylor

23 24

Branta

Mrs Harrison

D Erskine, J Mcgouran H Taylor

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

25

Temple

Dr Glass

C Glass, J Mcgouran

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

26

Kilrow

F Mckeown

T O'Neill, M Mcconville P Curran, G Sampson

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

27

Witch Of Endor

Baroness De Ros

L Swail

Les Peto

Strip Carvel

28

Urgent Call

Dr Moore

M Hayes, H Press

Les Peto

Cold Moulded

8

Bernadette

J Murray

J Murray

Strip Carvel

40

Niagaree-Ann

T & L Lawson

Les Peto

Moulded Plywood

43

Paula Jan

P Mullan, D Sullivan

Les Peto

Moulded Plywood

44

Cee-Jay

D Gillespie

Les Peto

Moulded Plywood

45

Zeda

N Watson

Les Peto

Moulded Plywood

A Johnston

Les Peto

Moulded Plywood

50

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First Wychcraft Race 1958

The first race of the newly formed Wychcraft Class took place on Saturday 26th April 1958. Eight boats started and was won by “First Witch” helmed by John Fitzsimmons with Bill Swail second in “Patricia” and “Anne” with Joe Polly and Bobby Magee on board coming third. The presentation of prizes was made at a supper in the Cuan Hall.

The Club Commodore and distinguished guests paid tributes to Les Peto for the assistance and advice he gave so freely to the novice boat builders. The contribution to sailing in Strangford Lough made by Les Peto cannot adequately be described by mere words.

Weekly points racing commenced on the first Saturday in May 1958 and continued throughout the season except when a regatta was held in the Lough on Saturdays.When the racing started Dr. and Mrs. Moore presented a perpetual cup for the winner of the series.

Tuesday nights were for the budding helmsmen described as novices or amateur. These races were highly competitive and sailed to the limit of the Rules with many an hour spent in the Protest Committee room After the race the winning helmsman had to buy “Coke” for the fleet in Johnny Polly’s shop.

Pat Breen who had won the Cuan Cup outright with his punt the “New Design”, donated the trophy as a perpetual prize for the winner of the series.

The 1958 regatta fixtures started with Strangford regatta and the crews, families and supporters felt a lot of disappointment on both sides of the river when the Officer of the Day decided to set a course for the Wychcraft Class on the Lough Course and not the Ferry Course. Portaferry Regatta Committee did not make the same mistake and held an excellent race in full view of spectators on both sides.

The Brown family kindly presented a perpetual cup for the winner of the annual event.

Portaferry Regatta Committee also organised a weekly series of races on Thursday nights and the Class very much appreciated their commitment, especially from Andy Mawhinney, Ernest Elliott and Willie Kearney.

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Wychcraft Class boats “Anne” No.5, “Kia-Ora” No.14, “Patricia” No.6 and “St. Joan” No.2 on a beat down the tide to the Blackboat Bay mark in 1961

The success of the Wychcraft Class during 1958 prompted new owners to the fleet.

Tommy Connor built No.14 in Tommy Dougherty’s loft with help from Eamon Swail, Tommy Dougherty etc. Johnny and Willie Polly started No15 with the same helpers, who had built Nos 4 and 5. Mr Finney the woodwork teacher at Killyleagh Technical School crafted No.16 in the woodwork classroom in the school. Many requests for complete boats were made to Les Peto and with his improving health commenced to build the Wychcraft full time. Oliver Curran and John Fitzsimmons purchased No.17 with the painting just to be done. Dr Murphy obtained No.18 for his family. Mrs Howard bought No.19 as a retirement present for her husband Frank, No. 20 was the last of the wide planked boats and Alex Napier was the owner.The next six boats were of the strip plank method similar to No.1, three of these craft went to customers outside Strangford. Mrs Harrison who was a friend of Miss Ellie Pyper, a granddaughter of an old Strangford resident Joe Robinson, bought No.24. No.26 was built for Frankie McKeown, No.27 was the purchase of the Baroness de Ros and was numbered out of sequence; it should have been 25 but her Ladyship requested No.27, as she was the 27th to hold the title.

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Racing during the transitional period of change from Gunter to Bermudian rig in 1964.

“Anne” No.5, “Sceptre” No.4 and “Mary” No.7 are fitted out with the new Bermudian Terylene sails with “Skylark” No.15, “Annette” No.19 and “Dair” No.10 using the original Gunter rig cotton sails

A meeting in Strangford Sailing Club on 18th October 1961 was called to clarify important issues. Some owners had questioned that the boats from No.21 onwards had deviated from the original design and were in fact basic alterations.After much discussion an amicable agreement was found.The Class was divided into two divisions namely the Mark 1 or one design Wychcraft and the Mark 2 or restricted Wychcraft. The Mark 1 boats were confined to No.1 to No.20 and used the original Gunter rig and sails. The Mark 2 Wychcraft division was for hulls with sails and rigs, which could not be accepted within the rigid specifications of rig, and sail of the Mark 1 section. In later years the strip built hulls were adopted by the mark 1 Class.

The last Wychcraft to be built was “ Bernadette” by the Murray Family from Portaferry in 19 91. They constructed a superb strip plank boat and the quality of the finish achieved prompted one of the crew of one of the original boats to call her “The Floating Piano” In the early 1960’s great advances in sailcloth material saw an increased use of terylene sails by most classes. A meeting of the Mark 1 owners agreed to allow terylene sails made to the same dimensions as the original cotton sails from April 1964. It was also agreed to permit the use of a Bermudian mast or if preferred continue with the Gunter rig.

In the first year 4 suits of new sails at a cost of £29 7s 6d were ordered from W.G. Lucas& Sons of Portsmouth England who were appointed as sole supplier to the Mark 1 division. All four boats changed to Bermudian rig and despite some problems with low budget masts the changeover was very successful. All the remaining local boats

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converted to Bermudian rig and Terylene sails in 1965/66 and adopted an inclined W as the Class insignia By 1963 Les Peto had moved on to the second series of Wychcraft although, built to the same overall design, he adopted multi diagonal plywood construction for the hull. No.25 was built with 3 skins but all subsequent boats were double diagonal similar to the early Flying Fifteens. To enable easy release of the hull from the mould a slight alteration to the original design was necessary and so the distinctive tumble home of the top planks was changed to a more upright arrangement.

The Sail Training Centre at Killyleagh purchased most of these boats; some found a home at the QuoileYacht Club. Six boats remained in the locality and these were owned by Dr Moore, Trevor and Lenny Lawson, David Sullivan/Paddy Mullan, Norman Watson, Chris Gillespie and Alfie Johnston.The boats from No.21 onward were supplied with a reduced rig, Les Peto adopted a Bermudian sail plan similar to the Enterprise Class, and Tedfords of Donegal Quay Belfast manufactured these sails, which were to become the standard arrangement for the Mark 2 division.

The mid 1960’s was a boom time for Wychcraft racing? It was not unusual for twenty plus boats to be racing in 2 divisions three nights a week.The Mark 1 with their modernised rig gave a high standard of racing and over the years every boat had its share of success.

The highly tuned craft and high standard of helmsmanship were extremely competitive in Handicap races such as the Bar Buoy Race and Dundrum Regatta.

The presentation of prizes for the Wychcraft Class at a dance in the Cuan Hall in 1959 Back Row - L to R:W.J. Mullan,T. Morris, H. Murnin, Dr. Moore,T. McKeating, Fr. McLean,T. Connor, Fr. Donnelly, J. Polly.

Middle Row: E. Polly, F. Moore.

Front Row - L to R: J. Polly, B. Magee, D. Swail, M. Polly, J. O’Neill

The lightweight moulded plywood boats dominated the Mark 2 Class; their ability to plane (sailing above displacement speed) was a distinct advantage.

The Wychcraft were welcomed at the annual Regattas of all the Clubs of Strangford Lough and at Dundrum and Newcastle. The Class hired George McDonnell’s standby ferryboat and headed off to Whiterock, Kircubbin, Killyleagh and the Quoile with up to a dozen Wychcraft in tow.

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Towards the end of the 1960’s interest in the Wychcraft waned, some owners sold their boats and moved to the International Flying Fifteen Class. Another blow to the Class was the arrival of the much needed car ferry. The traditional moorings were lost and movement in the Harbour restricted. It was at this time Strangford Sailing Club decided to move their base to Castleward.The move was very successful but somehow racing for the Wychcraft was never the same as on the Ferry Course and the fleet further declined.

In 1983 the remaining owners celebrated the silver jubilee of the launching of the Class.

Eight boats were gathered and took part in events throughout the season including weekly points racing series and races for schoolchildren, a Bar Buoy race in aid of the RNLI, a change of owners race and a reunion race of original 1958 owners with their boats where possible. A Championship weekend and a race starting in Strangford Harbour (the first since 1972) were also part of the festivities. These celebrations sparked off a partial revival of the Class with the refurbishment of the hulls and the purchase of new sails made this time by McWilliams at Whiterock and costing £230.00. Weekly racing inevitably faded away but the Wychcraft continued to patronise the Regattas.

Les Peto and family decided to return to his native Sussex in 1969 and as a thank you and as a farewell present he had the pleasure of seeing 25 Wychcraft assembled at Strangford Sailing Club to pay tribute to a good friend. Sadly Leslie Peto passed away in the early 1990’s at his home in England.

Right from the start the Wychcraft was more than a racing boat. It was one of the very few that was a true general-purpose dinghy. When rowed or fitted with an outboard motor they were used for fishing, family picnics, generally pottering about, and emergency ferryboats or just to enjoy the carefree pleasure of sailing.

The Class was a good boat to learn to sail in as the Sail Training Centre at Killyleagh discovered and purchased several boats for this purpose. Graduates from the local racing scene went on to become winners at the Irish and Northern Ireland Flying Fifteen Championships while others became leaders in the offshore cruisers racing circuit.

To my knowledge there are eight or possibly nine Wychcraft in existence but some have not been in the water for several years. Racing only takes place at the Regattas but the turn out has been disappointing. Two of the boats built in 1958 are still in original ownership, namely No.7 Mary, John Murray and No.5 Anne, Bobby Magee and it is their desire that they will be afloat to celebrate the golden jubilee of their launch in 2008.

Tommy Connor’s boat “Kia-Ora” No.14, makes its way to the Slip for launching in 1959 with help from the younger residents of Strangford and crew Eammon Swail.

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The Quayles of Castletown Ronald Buchanan

The name Quayle (sometimes spelt Quail) was once familiar in Strangford, with families of that name working as ferrymen, merchants and publicans over several generations.

The name is less common outside our district, but is familiar in the Isle of Man where several families of Quayle played a prominent part in the Island’s history, especially in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. One such person was George Quayle, born in 1751 in Castletown, then the chief town in the Island and a port, situated on the southeastern coast. George was a merchant and ship-owner, a member of the House of Keys (the Manx Parliament) for 51 years, co-founder of the Island’s first bank, and an officer in the defence forces established at the time of the Napoleonic Wars. He died in 1835, a respected member of the community, a lively man with an inventive mind which won him a gold medal of the Royal Society of Arts. He travelled widely on the continent, and knew the Irish Sea intimately. Today George is remembered in Castletown for one particular reason: as designer and builder of what is now probably the oldest yacht in Britain, built in 1789 and still housed in the boathouse built for her on the quay beside George’s house, Bridge House. The boathouse is now the home of the Manx Nautical Museum, established in 1951 The yacht, which he named Peggy, is officially described as a schooner-rigged vessel, 26 ft. long with a beam of nearly 8 ft. She is clinker built, of pine with ribs and floor of oak, has a transom, and unusually for her time, a drop-keel. She had a gaff rigged mainsail, and a gaff foresail and jib. Her masts and spars survive, but sadly her oars were casualties of the second-world war, burnt for firewood by an American serviceman on the look-out for cheap fuel! In keeping with the dangerous years in which she sailed – French and American privateers were active in the Irish Sea – Peggy was licensed by the Admiralty to carry armaments:”six small swivel guns and six fowling pieces”. In fact she was equipped with eight tiny cannon, each 1 ft. long and ranged along her sides, and two slightly longer guns mounted as stern chasers. At sea she must have looked quite formidable!

Unfortunately there are no surviving records of her voyages or of the cargoes she carried during her thirty or forty years of service. One passage of note took her to Cumbria, where she was hauled overland from the Solway coast to Lake Windermere to take part in a regatta: apparently she won easily and in some style. She must have sailed to England quite frequently, and probably to Ireland, most likely to the County Down coast. The Quayle’s had other vessels engaged in the Irish Sea trade: two others were built in the same year as Peggy. Obviously she was too small to carry much cargo, but she was fast and seaworthy, and one wonders if at times she might have been engaged in less legitimate trade. Smuggling of wines and spirits, of tobacco and silks was common at that time, for the Isle of Man levied its own customs and there was a major export in such luxury goods to England, Scotland and Ireland, involving many otherwise respectable citizens.

For whatever reason, Peggy ceased trading on George’s death: the gateway that led from the harbour to her private quay and boathouse was walled off, and for well over a century she lay undisturbed, neglected and largely forgotten by George’s family, who continued 12

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to live in the substantial house alongside. Eventually the property was sold; ten years later Peggy and her boathouse were donated to the Manx Museum, then under the direction of Ulsterman Basil Megaw.

I am not sure if the Strangford Quayles were related in any way to George of Castletown: as merchants and traders they may well have been and almost certainly their ancestors came from the Isle of Man. The story of Peggy I find fascinating and I think it has a message for us. In Strangford we too have a long sea-faring tradition, and although we don’t have a vessel as old as Peggy we do have many objects relating to the seamen and ships of earlier days which deserve to be remembered. The Manx Nautical Museum is housed in a three story building which has the boathouse in the basement, an exhibition of photographs, models and gear relating to the fishing industry in the middle rooms, and at the top of the house a sail makers loft with all the tools of the trade.The building is one of a row of dwellings and former warehouses which face each other across the narrow harbour, overshadowed by the formidable bulk of Castle Rushen, mediaeval fortress of the Manx kings and one-time seat of government. In many ways Castletown is a little like Strangford: our surviving warehouses on the old quay are now dwellings, but we do have a castle, much smaller and modest compared with Castle Rushen. In the early 1990s the castle housed a very successful exhibition of photographs and objects relating to our history, including some on loan from Down County Museum. The Sailing Club also held a fine exhibition in the Inverbrena Centre to celebrate its first half century and our Chairman’s article in this number shows that there is plenty of material for a permanent exhibition on leisure sailing as well as on the sea trade which was the mainstay of village life over so many centuries. For many years Strangford Castle has stood empty, unused and rarely visited, except by the occasional tourist. Shouldn’t it be used to tell the story of Strangford and the part played by its people in the maritime history of the Irish Sea ?

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The Tower Houses Of Lecale On the European mainland, the area just west of the River Seine is known as Normandy, conquered in the heyday of the Viking expansion.

These Viking or Northmen or Normans were a warlike and aggressive race and their progeny was no less so as is borne out by the events of 1066 – Hastings and all that.

The gradual take-over of the island of Britain by these land hungry adventurers at a time when ‘might was right’ and the king ruled by ‘divine right’, was really a masterstroke but without a master plan. It was a case of every man for himself, what he could grab and hold was his. Those knights who happened to go into Wales were no different and Quoile Richard Fitzgilbert de Clare, Earl of Pembroke was typical of the type. He was a physical strong and fearless warrior, very experienced in the arts of war, having been in constant battle with the Welsh Celts whose lands he had taken.

In Ireland, Dermot McMurrough, king of Leinster had a problem. He had backed McLaughlin for High King of Ireland, while his neighbour O’Rourke of Brefine, had backed O’Connor of Connaught. Bad blood therefore existed between these two minor kings mostly concerning women, I might add, but which I won’t dwell upon. In any case McMurrough was ousted and took ship for England to seek help from Henry II. Henry directed him to some of his bothersome knights, in particular the Earl of Pembroke whose lands he, Henry, had just confiscated. And so it was that Dermot and the Earl of Pembroke’s paths crossed and led to the Norman invasion of Ireland.

To encourage Richard to help him, Dermot promised to give him the hand of his own daughter, Aoife, in marriage, plus he gave his pledge that Richard would inherit his kingdom. Strongbow, for that was Richard’s nickname, as they say ‘fell on his feet’ and so after the defeat of O’Rourke at Baginbun, Strongbow, a widower of 55, married Aoife and became Dermot’s heir. The old rhyming couplet sums it up: ‘At the creek of Baginbun Ireland was lost and won’

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The first major step in the Norman conquest was the landing at Bannow, County Wexford, in 1169 of Robert Fitzstephen and a force of three to four hundred men, quickly followed by Maur ice de Pendergast, with two hundred more.

These forces, combined with McMurrough’s own army of five hundred, made up a sizeable band of about one thousand. Included were the armoured knights,Welsh archers and Flemish foot soldiers and among those knights was one, John de Courcy, an ambitious and land-hungry individual, out to carve a minor kingdom in this wild unruly land of Ireland. Eventually he would zero in on Ulster as his chosen corner and so enter into our lives. Strongbow himself did not land in Ireland until August 1170, at Passage. East.

More or less just in time for Strangford Dermot McMurrough to marry off his daughter Aoife and then, in 1171, to die at Ferns of leprosy (in the Annals of the Four Masters it said ‘he became putrid while still alive’). His kingdom then passed, as promised, to Richard Fitzgilbert his new son-in-law and Strongbow was in power.

Meanwhile Henry II was keeping a beady eye on his ambitious countrymen and becoming somewhat alarmed at the possibility of a rival Norman state evolving at his back door. He quickly made plans to forestall such an event and so in October 1171 with a fleet of two hundred and fifty to four hundred ships, reports vary, Henry himself landed at Crook in County Waterford. The Norman knights all submitted to him and, surprisingly, a large number of the Irish chieftains. I suppose these petty kings believed that discretion was the better part of valour and submission to Henry was the best way for them to hold what they had conquered. Henry only stayed in Ireland for six months – long enough to defuse the situation and seed the country with his own men like Hugh de Lacy. Strongbow died in 1176 and the gradual onset of age and infirmity cleared out the upper echelon of the original Norman invaders until, in about 1190, new blood was at the helm.

John de Courcy not content with how things were and still with a strong desire to fulfil

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his ambitions, set out from Dublin in January 1177 and in three days was in control of Downpatrick, having taken McDunlevy, the local chieftain, completely by surprise. Reportedly his force consisted of twenty two mounted knights and three hundred mixed foot and archers. How he defeated McDunlevy, who re-took Downpatrick for a short spell, with such a small force is a mystery. McDunlevy with ten thousand on one occasion and fifteen thousand on another to be defeated by a force of less than four hundred just boggles my mind.

A barrage of arrows followed by a phalanx of armoured knights on hor seback, followed by well-seasoned Flemish foot soldiers was no doubt a new way of battle Jordans for the 1170’s, but a fiftyto-one advantage, it still beggars belief? In any case de Courcy solidified his hold on Downpatrick and, soon after, all of Ulster. McDunlevy kept hounding him and, on one occasion, when de Courcy was returning from a cattle raid in County Louth, ambushed him at the ford on the Clanrye river near Newry. The bold John just escaped back to Downpatrick by the skin of his teeth. In the meantime power struggles were going on between Henry II and his relatives in France. De Courcy, unfortunately, backed the wrong horse, throwing in his lot with Prince Arthur of Brittany. Henry then proclaimed John a traitor and ordered Hugh de Lacy to arrest the culprit. De Courcy offered to settle the matter by single combat but the wily de Lacy declined the invitation. Later, by devious methods. he took poor old John prisoner while he was doing penance at the Abbey on Good Friday 1204 and sent him ignominiously in chains to London where Henry had him incarcerated in the Tower. De Courcy had married Affric, daughter of the king of Man who tried to arrange his release but alas in vain. However John’s days of glory were not yet over. A dispute arose between Henry and Philip of France. A settlement by single combat between the kings’ champions was arranged, no fear of the kings themselves endangering their lives. Henry released John on condition that he would represent him on the field. The French champion refused combat. Philip had heard of de Courcy’s prowess and desired to see an example. The Earl of Ulster, de Courcy, split a steel helmet in two with one mighty blow and no one but he could remove the sword 16

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from the wooden support beneath, so deep was it buried. As a result Henry freed John and granted him and his successors the right to remain covered in the presence of royalty – a right that the Lords of Kinsale still retain. De Courcy passed away peacefully in France in 1210.

When de Courcy left Dublin on that January day in 1177 it is said he had with him twenty two knights and three hundred men at arms and archers. I could find none of them named but it is commonly accepted that the names of Savage, Jordan, Walsh, de Audley, Russell, and all those with the prefix ‘Fitz’ must have been numbered among those knights and foot soldiers. One of the most prolific of these, without a doubt, was the Fitzsimons clan – but more on that later.

Some of these families, who became in time ‘more Irish Walshes Town than the Irish themselves’ have been in the Lecale and Ards area of County Down for over eight hundred years – an amazing span of time. More than can be said of the name of poor old John de Courcy.

It is said that a curse was laid on him for his part in the destruction of the Monastic site of Lismore which foretold that his name would die out. However, as I was saying, those who obviously prospered, laid down strong roots and, as the 12th century became the 13th and the 13th became the 14th, these descendants of the Norman invaders may still have been referred to as ‘English’ by the ordinary run-of-the-mill Irish. They became the new aristocracy of the region and from time to time would have had to defend their sphere of influence against a constantly reviving Celtic population, who felt resentful of these interlopers. Powerful kings and princes could have built great castles and keeps but interest in Ireland had waned and a cheaper type of stronghold had to suffice. And so in the early part of the 15th century the ‘Tower House’ became the new defended dwelling of the day with all mod-cons, inside toilets, the lot! An added incentive of a £10 subsidy gave encouragement to those who wished to build a fortified dwelling. Consequently these Tower Houses became known as ‘£10 Castles’. One of these Tower Houses, on the Quoile estuary, is located at Walshestown. It is of the 16th century, and was in use up to the first half of the 19th century. It was built with its walls slightly inclined inwards.

This increased its ability to withstand the rigors of time, wind and weather and a portion of its bawn, with firing slits, still exists. With Walsh (or Welsh) as the townland name, it

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is possible that the house was the property of a family by that same name.

A man by the name of de Audley was sent over by Henry II while Strongbow and de Courcy were fighting in France for their Regent.

He was Henry’s man and kept an eye on things for the king. Obviously he came north with de Courcy and his name, slightly altered, is remembered in the Tower House at Audleystown. Built on a south facing rock face and viewed from the Black Causeway it is an attractive and well positioned fortification.

Slightly earlier than the Quoile and Walshestown, it has an extensive bawn.

Audleys Thomas Henry Sharvin a native of Strangford, once had land taken around the ‘Castle’ and grazed cattle there. On one occasion he went round to check the animals and one of them greeted him with mournful moos from the top parapet. It had started up the circular stairs, been unable to turn, and kept on going. Don’t ask me how they got it down, I don’t know.

Strangford Castle was reported as ruinous in 1540 and was a less sophisticated structure than the aforementioned houses, having no circular stairwell. I therefore assume that access to the upper floors was by ladder or a wooden staircase. Quoile Castle, a contemporary structure to Strangford and the second of two on the Quoile estuary, was built in the 16th century probably, by the West family. A headstone to John West stands in Saul graveyard and a wall tablet in the Church records ‘John West, son of John West, born at Quoile Castle 1727, died 1787’. An interesting hoard of coins was found in the upper stories of Quoile Castle. They were of Elizabethan origin.

Ardglass had no less than five Tower Houses. Material to rebuild these buildings was dispatched from Drogheda in 1539 which means that they were in situ before that.

Jordan’s Castle was the most advanced of the five and overlooked the harbour in the town. Known sometimes as Bigger’s Castle, it was repaired by that gentleman and was a museum in my young days (cira 1940).

But the earliest datable Tower House in Ireland is the one at Kilclief. It is reputed to have been built as a residence for Bishop John Sely between 1413 and 1441. He was created Bishop in 1413 but the sly old dog was using his housekeeper, one Latetia Thom, a married woman, as a concubine. He was defrocked and deprived of his living 18

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in 1441 – five hundred and fifty years before Bishop Casey was ever heard of.

Does the world change?

- not one bit of it!! The mod-cons of Kilclief were quite impressive, a latrine on the first, second and third floor plus a slop chute on the second floor where the cooking was obviously done. The latrines served a secondary purpose because the ammonia rising from the midden killed the lice.

The people who lived in the 15th century were really and truly lousy, literally so.

And so to rid themselves of their parasites they hung their clothes over the cesspit.

What a ‘ponging’ lot they must have been, (no such thing as ‘Sure’ then). So Kilclief you can see that ‘Castro de Kylcleth’ was a lousy den of iniquity in those far-off distant days.

Fifty or so years later, 1601 this Tower House was garrisoned by Nicholas Fitzsymons and ten soldiers who, it appears, lived there through the rebellion year of 1641. Around 1645 Captain Adair, a Captain in Col. John Hamilton’s regiment, then stationed at Ardglass, was in the habit of visiting the Castle of Kilclief. Nicholas, having a beautiful wife called Anne, seemed to be the attraction that drew him. Adair, in his “cups”, boasted that the first blood ever he shed of the Irish was by killing a young child, somewhere near Islandmagee. He was chasing a woman with a child on her back and swinging his sword he sliced the child’s head off (causing the head to bounce like a ball).

Adair’s servant also said that he received ‘a shilling for every person he killed of the Irish’.

All this information was attested to by Anne Fitzsymons in a presentment to the courts in 1653 during an investigation into the 1641 insurrection and also in statements by Nicholas Fitzsymons and Brian Kelly of Kilclief. It is claimed that this same Adair was the captain whose men drove the unfortunate Irish of Islandmagee over the cliffs at The Gobbins. What a lovely man to have visiting your house and billeted in your district!

Phelomy Smith (Ballyculter) gave testimony at that same time regarding a sixty year old Redmond Ffitzsimons. It appears Redmond had fled out of Lecale during the insurrection and gone to Kinlerty and desired now to return home. Arrangements were made to get him a pass from Lord Clandeboy in Killyleagh and with this he came to Strangford. Unfortunately he was met by a Scottish soldier,Thomas Dickson, to whom

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he showed his pass but was nonetheless cut down and killed by Dickson and his body buried at Mullaghbane, (White Hills), near Ballynarry. Dickson and a fellow soldier by the name of Jordy Worke also killed Owen Starkey. The place where both murders took place is still called ‘the Murder Bog’. The reason I mention this last episode was the inclusion of yet another of the Fitzymons name being involved, leading me to the last part of my epistle.

The association of the Norman name Fitzsimons (variously spelt) with the townland of Kilclief in general, and the building, known locally as Kilclief Castle in particular, has existed for over 800 years. The townland got its name from the ‘Church of the Wattles’.

Now it is not clear if the Church was of wattle and daub construction or perhaps had a screen of wattles dividing the sanctuary from the congregation but in any case Kilclief was an important ecclesiastical site from early Christian times. Referred in the Book of Leinster (1150 A.D.) and in earlier annals around 935 A.D. when the stone Church was burned by the Vikings (son of Barath). The Vikings raided again in 1001, this time Sitric, out of Dublin was the perpetrator. When the Normans arrived in 1178 de Courcy cleverly parcelled out the land to the Church to avoid unrest among the local people.

One of the main families who emerged at this time was of the ‘Fitzsymons’ name and a possible residence is at what is now called The Mount. Strangely enough the cottage beside that mount was a Fitzsymons homestead in 1950 and for all I know may still be.

Nicholas seems to be a name that comes down through the ages with the Fitzsymons family. In O’Laverty’s History of Down and Connor the name crops up time and time again and it is truly amazing to hear it to this very day within the boundaries of Kilclief parish. In my own memory I have heard the nicknames, John of the Gap, Pushie,Willie Luke, the Big Six Footer (from Tullafoyle) all to distinguish one Fitzsymons from the other.

And that reminds me of the story about Hitler. The war was not going well with him and he called in his chief spy. Says he, ‘I want you to fly over to Ireland to Kilclief, you’ll know it, its beside Cairnashoke School. I want you to land on the banks of Killard and I want you to make contact with our man in Ireland. His name is Nicky Fitzsymons – the password this week is ‘the brown cow is in the green field’. Away goes your man and on a Monday morning at eight o’clock he lands at Killard, makes his way to the road where he meets a farmer with a horse and cart. ‘Could you tell me’, says he,‘where Nicky Fitzsymons lives?’ Well, says the farmer ‘which Nicky do you want,’ there’s Nicky the milkman, or Nicky the postman, or Nicky the joiner – as a matter of fact my own name is Nicky Fitzsymons’. The German says ‘the brown cow is in the green field’.

‘Oho, begod, it’s Nicky the Spy you’re looking for, he lives down near Kerrsbridge at Cairnashoke’.

To this day the Fitzsymons name is still plentiful in the Kilclief area, well respected and prosperous. I suppose you could say that they are the Normans who became ‘more Irish than the Irish themselves’.

Thanks and appreciation to Ronnie Buchanan and George Rice for their invaluable help and advice.

E.J.M.

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Paddy Corrigan Talks to Willie Crea.

“Willie, if I told you all I knew about Strangford; it would fill a book”. Here, his eyes glinting mischievously, he would pause; I suppose to allow me to get worked up to expect something really spicey; then he would continue. “But I would have to leave the country and that would be too big a price to pay”. That finished he would go on to tell me some other item of great interest but no revelations!

This time he went on to tell me about the origins and background of the two luxurious ferries plying regularly across the Lough laden with vehicles and people.

It all began in the reign of James the first in the sixteenth century when he granted a charter to a group of Portaferry and Strangford businessmen to run a cattle boat across the lough.

We can only go back now to the 1920’s for that’s the limit of Paddy’s memory.

Then, the people involved were: Major Head, Ephraigm Brown, R.F. Greer, T. Faloona, Ronald Mason and Thomas Tumelty.

The boat, then in use, was sixty years old and had cost sixty pounds. It was 32 feet long and could carry ten cattle. It was towed by a motor vessel.

Now why the priority for cattle? Cattle were big business then for beef animals reared and fattened on the rich Ard’s farms had to be brought to Downpatrick to be sold and then loaded onto the railway wagons (B.C.D.R.) for Belfast where they were reloaded onto the Liverpool boat for the lucrative markets there and Birkenhead.

To get to the barge at Portaferry, the animals were walked many miles on the Ard’s roads to the slip, loaded over the side of the vessel and then towed across by the motor vessel.

On crossing the lough the barge was beached at the water’s edge on the first field past Ferry quarter, which was an official lairage for this purpose, rented from the land-owner by the council. The animals were then walked to Downpatrick.

The barge was not solely confined to cattle for now there were a couple of cars in Strangford and the courageous owners occasionally made the journey across the water.

The car was pushed up two planks on the side of the barge, then onto two more planks across the gunwales and secured with ropes. This “car ferry” was little used because of the risks involved.

The barge was crewed by two men, each were paid ten pounds a year and assisted, when necessary, by two other men, each retained by twenty five shillings a year.

There was no fixed time for crossings or fixed charges; seemingly these were at the “discretion of the crew”. There was however, in those seemingly uneventful days, a regular and glamorous passenger on the barge. This “icon” of masculinity was the huge Clydesdale stallion, called “Cowden’s Castle”, which stood at stud in Downpatrick every Saturday all springtime.

This majestic animal was owned by Brian McNabb, who farmed about two miles beyond Windmill Hill on the Ards.

The animal was beautifully tuned out by McNabb’s groom, Jimmy Magee, who decorated him for every week’s journey, with mane and tail festooned with multicoloured ribbons etc.

Brian walked the horse from his farm to Portaferry, unto the barge, crossed the lough to Strangford; walked to Downpatrick; stood in Acton’s yard all day and received the visiting mares from all over East Down; walked back to Strangford in the evening, crossed the lough and walked home.

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Leading the animal was a hazardous operation in itself for he was well fed and high spirited, he was heavy and had large feet, and so there was always the danger of being trampled on.

We must conclude that McNabb and his horse were very tired and that both had earned their money.

During the war years the barge continued to run but on a very reduced scale for there was a reduction in livestock and crop production was a compulsory priority.

Lorries were now available making direct journeys to Belfast. Brian McNabb’s stallion was also in little demand for Ferguson and Ford tractors were replacing those lovely beasts of burden.

After the war one of the Normandy landing crafts was obtained by a private entrepreneur in Portaferry, which replaced the barge and the towing vessel. The long serving barge lay unused and eventually rotted away.

The landing craft was a small vessel, capable of carrying three cars and merchandise.

Very few animals now were brought by ferry, and any that were, had to haltered and hand held.

The craft was quite an innovation but had not the success anticipated. Maintenance was a problem, for we must remember that this craft was designed and built for one journey across the Channel to Normandy. There were buoyancy tanks down each side which had to be carefully and equally pressurised.

One of the pumps for this pressuring was known to be malfunctioning and the craft became unbalanced – a serious defect. This unbalance was kept under control by adjusting the load on the craft to make it float evenly. This system worked well under normal conditions but unfortunately on one crossing from Portaferry with a heavy laden lorry and a hand held cow on board, a very strong current was encountered off the Salt Pans.

This was too much for the craft and it overturned and quickly sank. Nothing could be done and sadly the man and the cow both perished but the other crew members were saved.

So ended the landing craft venture and the crossings of heavy vehicles and animals.

The normal ferry boat service continued as usual with passenger traffic only.

So when we see these large modern vessels with scores of passengers, cars, lorries and buses, we should remember the pioneers, their successes and failures.

Paddy dictated the last of this ferryboat saga to me as he sat in a wheelchair in St. John’s Care Centre waiting to go home for as he said to me “I’ve some things to sort out”.

But friend Paddy never saw Strangford again for his condition deteriorated and he was admitted to the Downe again and a few days later the wheel of life completed it’s full circle and Paddy was gone. He had “left the country”, and with him went “all the things he knew about Strangford”.

I was saddened but considered myself privileged and fortunate to have known Paddy so well all his life and especially in his later years when he was so willing and so generous in imparting his wide knowledge of the village.

I tried to encourage him to write all these things down himself but he never did so and every Sunday morning when I was going down for the paper, he was waiting for me; sometimes complaining that I was late (tongue in cheek), and I would hear these priceless stories. Then I would hurry home and scribble them down – not trusting memory!

The next Sunday there would be something new and maybe a correction or an addition to the previous week and so on.

We are all grateful to him for his voluminous contribution to the history of Strangford.

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The Cobblers of Strangford.

Recalled by the Late Paddy Corrigan.

During the late thirties, early forties; a period of mass unemployment, low wages and no welfare support; families with young children had difficulties in making “ends meet”.

This situation opened up a small business in repairing footwear. Children’s and adult’s shoes were all leather and often not very good quality. Soles wore out very quickly and there was no option but repair.

Strangford district had the same problem as everywhere else and first in the shoe business was Hughie McGreevy who lived in a small house on the corner where Duffy’s shop now stands.

He had no experience of shoe repairing but taught himself on other people’s footwear and learnt quickly. There was no capital to buy leather so he had to improvise. One way in which he got material was waste leather from Quayle’s farmyard in the village.

The stables had a saddelry where the leather harness was repaired and there were always pieces of leather left over. He salvaged these remnants, and, with more pieces from other stables in the district, he was in business.

With these pieces of leather he repaired shoes and his services were in great demand.

He charged a very small fee for his work for money was scarce.

When he retired, and it was not on his “fortune”, he was succeeded by a small man, John McCann, who was deformed and had a wooden leg necessitating the use of a stick.

He operated from Drumroe, which is about three miles from Strangford, and children from the village walked to Drumroe with their worn shoes and left them with him and walked back to Strangford – many in their bare feet, and returned a week or so later to collect them and of course pay. Payment was usually a shilling.

John was a kind pleasant man, fond of children and delighted in giving his customers a penny ‘change’ for spending.

Consequently, he was very popular with his customers and did much business.

Business now thriving he was able to buy new leather; but to do so he had to walk to Strangford with his disability; take the boat to Portaferry and buy his leather from Stewart’s general stores.

This operation took almost all day but life was much slower and time more plentiful.

Some years later Johnny Boden, with more experience in the art from working in a shoemakers shop in Belfast, came to live in the village and started full time business in Castle Street.

He did not find leather supplies easy to get and he had to ride a racing type bicycle to Belfast, purchase his sheet of leather; tie it on his back and cycle back to Strangford.

This was a day’s work lost and he had to work overtime to satisfy waiting customers; some not too well pleased at the delay.

After a few years, because I suppose of small profits, he had to call it a day and diversified into a tea room for the locals and the occasional visitor.

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‘Home Words’

by Isobel Magee

Introduction In our last Inverbrena History Book 2003 we quoted articles from Home Words, a little booklet found in the roof space of the late John Orr Ballyculter – year 1877.

In this Magazine 2004 we print some of the articles of the year 1878.

I also note that the little booklets, Home Words, were bound into a volume and would afford pleasure and interest in future years to refer to past history.

Who would have thought that they would make reading for the generation of Ballyculter in 2004.

I.M. Home Words February 1878 Reports of the Inspection of Ballyculter and Killough Schools by the Diocesan Inspector of Religious Education.

Ballyculter School Patron,Viscount Bangor Patroness,Viscountess Bangor Manager, Hon. Somerset Ward Teachers, Mr and Mrs Ludgate Report:Senior Division I – answered remarkably well in all subjects, and shows a great improvement since last year. The answering in Holy Scripture was very good and the Formularies were very well prepared.

Senior Division II – The Senior Course was rather too difficult for these children, though one of them Lizzie Orr, answered uncommonly well. It might have been better to have classed them as Juniors.

Junior Division I – Some children in this class answered very well in Scripture. The Psalms were generally well repeated, and also the Collects and Catechism.

Junior Division II – Said the Psalms, Creed, and Commandments, well and answered elementary Scripture Questions.

Infants in general answered fairly.

Killough School Patron,Viscount Bangor Manager, Rev. J. O’Flaherty Teachers, Mr and Mrs Finley Report:The general answering of this School is in every respect most satisfactory.

Senior Division I – Answered very well in Holy Scripture, and the Scripture Repetition, Articles, and Catechism were said very accurately.

Senior Division II – With a few exceptions, also answered remarkably well in all subjects.

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Junior Division said the Psalms and Catechism very well, and some of them answered very fairly in Scripture. Next year this will probably be a very good class.

Infants had learned the Psalms, Creed and the Ten Commandments very well.

Names of Children Passed in Order of Merit Ballyculter Senior Division I 1. John Ludgate Thomas Ludgate 2. Johnston Hughes Francis Wylie 3. Andrew McGhie 4. Wm McGhie (Castlemahon) 5. Francis Torney 6. Louisa Thompson 7. Jane Ludgate Mary Orr II 1.

2.

3.

Lissie Orr Alexander Stewart George Torney Lizzie Skilling

Junior Division I 1. Samuel Lawson 2. Henry Wylie 3. Annie Wylie 4. Robert Bowden II 1.

2.

3.

4.

Jane McGhie Ellen McGhie Thomas Newell Sarah Ringland Thomas Torney Eliza Bowden Emma Torney Eliza Cochrane Maria Skilling

Killough Senior Division I 1. Arthur McConisky 2. Thomas Gilchrist 3. Maria Hamilton 4. Elizabeth Christie 5. Robert Martin Sen.

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6. Sarah Blakely 7. Wm. Hawthorne II 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

Robert McClinchy Annie Montgomery Mary Gilchrist Alexander McComisky Maggie Farell Sarah Hawthorne Jane Hamilton Richard Law William Hughes Robert Cochrane Sen.

Junior Division I 1. Ellen Campbell Robert Cochrane, Jun. 2. Louisa Finlay Annie Davidson Agnes Straney Susan Harris Mary Cochrane Elizabeth Munce Robert Martin Jun. Samuel Law Meta Munce Robert Shankey Letter We have much pleasure in publishing with the Reports, the following letter, received by the Manager of Ballyculter School from the Rev. W.S. Darley who conducted the recent examinations. We congratulate the Teachers and children on the result, and trust they will continue to merit the approval of the Inspector.

Belfast, January 4, 1878 My Dear Captain Ward:In sending you the Reports of the late examinations in Religious Knowledge held in Lord Bangor’s Schools at Ballyculter and Killough, with a remittance of the Results Fees awarded to the Teachers by the Diocesan Board of Education, I cannot allow the opportunity to pass without expressing my gratification at the very efficient state in which I found both schools.

The details of the answering in each Division being contained in the Reports I need only say the general Religious Knowledge of the children can bear the most favourable comparison with that of any other Schools I have met with in the Diocese, and the orderly behaviour of the children is all that can be desired. This is highly creditable to 26

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your energetic Teachers, Mr Ludgate and Mr Finlay who seem to devote much attention to their duties.

Since my former visit the improvements in the Ballyculter School House have been carried out in the most admirable manner, and have added very much to the convenience and comfort of both Teachers and children. The lofty roof securing good ventilation, the handsome pitch-pine wainscoting the new desks constructed after the most approved pattern, the convenient lavatories, all combine to give the School-rooms an air of brightness, comfort and cheerfulness, which must have a most beneficial effect upon the minds of the children, and when outdoor alterations are completed the School will have a most attractive appearance.

In these improvements Lord Bangor has shown not only great liberality but much wisdom, as nothing tends more to raise the tone of the children by giving them ideas of refinement and order, than providing them with bright and cheerful School accommodation where they can be practically taught the valuable lesson that “Cleanliness is next to Godliness” which will add so much to the comfort of their homes in after life.

Altogether, considering the increased opportunities now afforded for both Secular and Religious Instruction, I look very hopefully upon Lord Bangor Schools at Ballyculter and Killough, which will no doubt, more than ever be found a blessing to the locality, and become instrumental in training the rising generation in knowledge, good for “the life that now is and that which is to come”.

Believe me, dear Captain Ward, Very truly yours, William S. Darley.

It is hoped that by this time the bound volumes of Home Words have been received and we feel certain that none of their recipients will be disappointed in the appearance they present. We look forward to having, at the end of the year, a much more considerable number to send for this purpose, as now that the means of binding and the style of such are known, we trust many of our subscribers (in this and other parishes) will carefully preserve their monthly copies. The neater the latter are kept, the less they are damaged, so much the nicer will the year’s Volume be; and it would, doubtless, afford pleasure and interest from time to time to the readers of our “Homes”, to be able in future days to refer to our past local history.

The account of Strangford Lough (which limited space prevents our continuing this month) will be resumed as usual in the March Number.

Christian Progress “Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. And all things are of God” – 2 Cor v:17,18 Last month we entered on a New Year, a season most suitable for prayerful and earnest thought. What progress have we made since the beginning of the year which has lately passed away? Let us look at the matter from a Christian point of view; and in the first place, with regard to our earthly callings and pursuits.

Our management of the lawful business of this life has often more influence than we suppose in commending, or otherwise, our religion to the world around us. Take for example, the case of the farmer; he may be diligent in his attendance on the means of grace, he may make a high profession of Christianity, yet, if he neglects his lawful calling,

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if he allows his farm to be overrun with weeds, if he is careless and indolent in his daily work, he is not doing his duty in that state in which it has pleased God to place him; and in this respect he is not glorifying God nor commending His religion to others.

The Christian farmer should be the best farmer in the district; the Christian labourer, the most honest workman; the Christian housewife should be noted for the cleanliness and tidiness of her house and children, and for the punctual and regular attendance of the latter at school; the Christian shopkeeper for his moderate charges and the quality of his goods.

If Christians would thus act in their respective callings, the world would be compelled to admit that Christianity is no mere assent to certain dogmas, but that it is a living power, increasing the comfort and happiness in this life of those who embrace it faithfully.

Is it so with us? Is our religion thus practically manifested? If not, let us bury the old ways with the old year; let us be up and doing; let old things pass away, and all things become new; resolving, with God’s help, that no slur shall be cast on our religion by our conduct, and that, if it please God to spare us to the close of the present year, we may be able to record some improvement in this respect.

But, while we thus urge the necessity of showing that religion tends to make us more diligent and useful in our various spheres of work, let us not fall into the fatal error of supposing for one moment that activity and diligence in our earthly work will make us Christians, or be of any account whatever in the matter of our acceptance with God. Salvation is of grace, - entirely of grace; “the free gift” of a God of love; “not of works, lest any man should boast”; offered to all who come trusting only in the atonement made by the death of His dear Son. Do we possess this inestimable treasure? Is this salvation ours? Have we accepted that which God so freely offers to each of us? If not, how long do we intend to continue without it? Is it wise to remain for another year in that state of condemnation in which we have passed so many previous ones? Shall we presume on God’s infinite longsuffering and suppose that because He has borne so patiently with us for such a length of time, judgement will never reach us?

Oh! Let us be wise, while there is time; before it is too late. Eternity is approaching; the door of mercy will then be closed forever; Jesus is waiting to receive us. Let us in simple childlike faith surrender ourselves to Him; and being thus brought into union with Him, become possessed of that eternal life which He alone can give. Why should we hesitate? What has the world to offer us in comparison with this? If we now come to a solemn decision on this most important matter, and begin the year with Him, we shall be able to say with truth, in the words of St Paul which stand at the head of this paper: “Old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new, And all things are of God.” S.R.W.

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‘Home Words’ March 1878 The March booklet refers to Castleward Library. It would have been interesting to know what sort of reading the Library had to offer. The articles say “to improve and cultivate the mind and intellect”.

Castleward Lending Library.

A short notice relative to the above must not be inserted, to inform those of Lord Bangor’s tenantry who have been in the habit of receiving books from this library that it is still (notwithstanding absence from home) conducted on the same principle as hitherto.

Books can, as usual, be exchanged on Wednesdays and Saturdays from 10 to 11 am at Castleward, and it is hoped that the young people who frequently come on those days will not now cease doing so, nor lose the advantages offered to them.

We should be glad, on our return, to find, by our library list, that the same names are therin often recorded. It is most satisfactory to observe that useful and instructive books have been, during the past year, really appreciated, a preference shown for such, and a welcome granted to them in many of the homes in our parish. A thirst for knowledge is a hopeful sign, it indicates a “seeking for more than what is already possessed,” and we ask our young friends to ever look for such (whether religious or secular) from sound and wholesome sources, and not to waste the valuable moments in profitless reading. We always endeavour to furnish our library with books calculated to improve and cultivate the mind and intellect, and invite our readers to continue to peruse them with a steady aim and purpose.

Furness Abbey Furness is the name given to that irregularly shaped district of Lancashire which is separated from the rest of the country by an arm of the Irish Sea. In this district, about seven centuries since, was built the Abbey of Furness; in subsequent ages it rose high in rank and power, and the ruins of its architectural splendour are to this day entitled to a prominent place among the relics of antiquity in England. The Abbey lies near Dalton-on-Furness on the banks of a riverlet in a narrow and fertile vale.

It was founded A.D. 1127 by Stephen, the Earl of Morton and Bulloin, afterwards King of England, for Cistercian Monks who were brought over originally from Savigny in Normandy. It was endowed with rich domains, the foundation being afterwards confirmed and secured by the charters of twelve successive monarchs.

The Abbot of Furness was invested with extraordinary privileges, and exercised jurisdiction over the whole district.

The situation of the Abbey being formidable by nature, gave something of a warlike consequence to the monks, they erected a watchtower on the summit of a commanding hill, which commences its rise near the walls of the monastery, looking over Low Furness, and the arm of the sea immediately beneath it; thus they were enabled to prevent surprise by alarming the adjacent coast with signals on the approach of an enemy. The Abbey was dedicated to St. Mary, and its monks for some time conformed to the regulations of their order wearing the habit of grey. The entrance to these romantic ruins is through a light pointed arch; they are of Norman and Early English character. The church is 287 feet in length, and the walls are in some places 54 feet high, and 5 feet thick. The

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windows and arches are upon a scale of unusual loftiness. The east window was filled with glass which has been removed and preserved in Bowness Church, Westmoreland.

The Abbey of Furness must in its pristine perfection have been one of the most extensive and important monastic establishments in the kingdom. The St. Cistercian Order, which was a branch of the Benedictine, the most ancient of all the monastic orders, and closely related to Inch Abbey near Downpatrick.

Lines on Furness Abbey (written in 1864) Oh, summer night! “the lovely lady moon” In silver majesty is rising high, And o’er the Abbey’s mouldering cloister spreads The growing darkness of the twilight sky.

The grass is waving in deserted aisles.

And o’er the pile spreads ruin and decay.

Each crumbling arch, and each neglected tower Tells of a glory that has passed away!

Where once the sweet notes of the vesper hymn Rose from the fervent lips of white-robed choir, Where cowled priest his benediction gave To humble peasant and to kneeling friar.

Silent and lonely spread the dark gray walls, No sound is heard except the owl’s hoarse cry, And ivy covers with her loving arms, The mournful relics of the days gone by.

Burst is the yoke that held the land enslaved.

To power of princes and to churchman’s might.

But e’en as over this desolation spreads The increasing radiance of the queen of night.

Fair as in yonder days, when erst she shone Upon those walls by gray Cistercians trod.

So, mid the fall of nations and of man, Unchanged, though brightening, holds the truth of God! A.H. April 1878 To Him That Overcometh – Rev ii7 Stop! Think! Resolve! Act! A Farmer taking a walk one day through his farm came to an old fence which separated two small fields. He stopped and began to think whether it would not be for his advantage to remove it. He examined it closely and found that he had been suffering a loss of crop from the vermin it harboured, a loss of land from the ground it occupied, and a loss of time in cultivating the small fields on each side of it. He thus made a calculation of the expense he would have to incur in taking it away; he found it would require both time and hard work for it contained old tough thorns which probably were deeply rooted in the soil; but, having considered the question of profit and loss, he came to the conclusion 30

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that the balance was on the side of the farmer, and so he resolved to level it; but that was not sufficient; the resolution, however good would not have removed the fence; it was necessary to act upon it, so he at once set to work to carry it out.

The farmer took another walk through his farm and stopped at a spot in one of his fields where there had been a considerable loss of wheat the previous year, and on thinking the matter over, he found that the heavy rain, after seed-time, remained on the surface of the land, and caused the seed to perish.

His mind being now directed towards improvement, he determined that this should not be the case another year, if he was able to prevent it; so he examined the ground carefully to ascertain whether there was sufficient fall in the water, and having satisfied himself on that point, he resolved to make some drains, being fully convinced that he would be amply repaid for the necessary outlay by the increased value of his crops; he therefore at once proceeded to act by engaging men to perform the work.

We may take the foregoing as illustration of what our Lord requires us to do with the spiritual farm which He has committed to each of us to cultivate, and which He commands us to occupy and improve till he comes S.R.W. (Luke xix18) (Hon. Somerset Ward)

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Health: Its use and abuse Home Words April 1878.

The all-importance of Health is a subject which we feel certain none of our readers will for a moment gainsay; nor, we trust, will they refuse to grant attention to that which is so conducive to happiness and prosperity in life. Space is too limited to offer in one article, all the hints we should like to give regarding health, but we hope before long to insert some “Sanitary Rules,” which, framed by an able authority on this matter, may prove of much value to those who will not only read and appreciate, but steadily follow them in every sense of the word. Many aches and ills (and the trials consequent upon such) can be avoided by proper care and consideration. Not merely the lesser sicknesses, but the greater ones, which are termed diseases, could in many cases be warded off by anticipation and precaution and it must be added, by a right use of common sense. Many miseries, many troubles are caused by neglect on our part, by a total disregard of the ordinary every day lessons which are intended for each one of us to learn; that unless when wilfully blinded, we cannot fail to perceive. Amongst such may be classed – light, fresh air, cleanliness, food and drink, exercise, warmth and rest. These cannot now be enlarged upon, but perhaps some of our friends will reflect on each separately, and come to a reasonable conclusion that all ought to be carefully heeded.

Light is indispensable. Plants become weak and sickly when deprived of its invigorating influence; they cannot live without it, still less could human beings do so, and yet how often this essential property is excluded.

Fresh Air is absolutely necessary; debarred from it, it would be impossible to breathe, and yet, frequently on entering a house we find every door, every window closely shut up. The impure air cannot escape, the pure air cannot come in.

Cleanliness according to the old saying ‘is next to godliness;’ cleanliness in our persons cleanliness in our houses. Unfortunately it is often much talked of, but not put into practice. The great thing is not only to look clean, but to be clean; not to be content with hiding away in corners and cupboards, dirty rubbish, but simply not to possess the latter at all. Have things as plain and unpretending as one likes, in the house, but have them tidy and really fresh and clean. People’s homes, whether rich or poor, are much happier if they attend to things which may seem trifling; but when duly thought over, they will be found quite the contrary.

Food and Drink all will at once say, “of course we must have, or we should die”. But the question now is – What food, what drink? There is a vast difference in quality as well as in quantity in the way these are used, in the mode of cooking in the people to whom they are given. This will be fully treated at a future time.

Exercise is simply invaluable both for mind and body. It stimulates and exhilarates, and tends to make a cheerful and contented disposition. Have plenty to do, and like to do it; whether for business or recreation, the benefit of exercise is great. A lazy and indolent person is generally unhappy and discontented with himself or herself and with the world around. The unspeakable comfort of Warmth none will decline to admit.

How much better is it to use warm and substantial clothing than useless and gaudy finery.

A cheery fire (no matter how small or bare the room it is in may be) on a cold winter’s night, helps to raise the vigour and spirits of the family circle, to banish the cares and toils of the day, and to usher in that welcome visitor.

Rest. The little worries and vexations must be forgotten; labour for the present is ended, and rest which all need, and all must take, can be freely and joyfully indulged in.

Mentally and physically we never could exist if “activity” were not permitted a certain amount of relaxation and repose. The daily occupation consists in manual work, rest is

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needful before another day demands similar duties.

If intellectual pursuits have engaged the mind., equally so is rest called upon to allow the powers of thought freedom, so as to gain renewed strength for increased perseverance in whatever line our vocation may lie.

Possibly these few remarks may tempt some of those who peruse them, to endeavour to “use health without abusing it”, and to look upon it in a serious light.

Should this be the case, we shall indeed be thankful that a subject of so much consequence has excited regards and interest. We also wish to attract notice to a most excellent series of papers, styled Notes on Nursing, for Artizans and Cottages by Mrs Gladstone, which are appearing monthly in the inner sheets of Home Words.

Sanitary Advice Before entering on rules which should be followed for the preservation of health promised in the last number of Home Words, we think it better to give a general idea of the benefits to be derived from using every means to our power of maintaining it at the highest possible standard.

When a person is out of health he is said to be ill or to have some disease. Now disease may be divided into those which are capable of being prevented and those which are not.

Every one of course, is liable to accidents; and no-one can take such care of himself that he will not catch cold and have attacks of bronchitis, inflammation of the lungs, etc. as well as many other diseases, the causes of which cannot be foreseen or guarded against; but by maintaining the health in a good state, when these diseases are acquired, they are much more easily cured, and do not leave behind them those delicate conditions which linger so long and often make convalescence so tedious.

It has been very truly said that the happiness and prosperity of each person depends on good health, and that the well-being of a nation depends on the health of the individuals of which that nation is composed. The Government, seeing the importance of this has made laws which are termed “sanitary”. These laws can be enforced when people omit to take proper precautions.

The article goes on to mention diseases such as: Typhus and typhoid, scarlatina, measles, small-pox, cholera, whooping-cough, diphtheria and erysipelas.

Many of them arise from special causes, which can be guarded against. For instance, typhus fever originates in the overcrowding of people together in ill ventilated dirty dwellings, but when once developed it is capable of being communicated to others.

Typhoid fever is caused by the escape of foul air, contaminated by sewerage gas, or by the use of water rendered impure by containing decomposing animal matter. Some other diseases, such as scarlatina, measles and whooping-cough, always spread by infection and are to be prevented by isolation and careful disinfection.

The chief things to be observed for good health are to breathe pure air, to have a good supply of wholesome water, to preserve perfect cleanliness both inside and outside of houses, to have a sufficient supply of nourishing food, to observe the strictest temperance, and to guard against cold and damp.

First, with regard to fresh air. Pure air is composed of nitrogen and oxygen (and a very small quantity of carbonic acid gas), in the proportion of nearly one-fifth oxygen and four fifths nitrogen.

The oxygen is the constituent that supports animal life (the nitrogen serving to dilute it).

It also supports combustion, and is the source of all vital and of such mechanical powers

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as are produced by heat. The carbonic acid where it exists in any quantity is prejudicial to animal life, and is looked upon as an impurity; but as some of it is essential to the growth of plants the small proportion that exists in pure air must be looked as a natural constituent. Anything that diminishes the quantity of oxygen renders it unsuited for the purposes of healthy respiration, so that each breath we take, and everything that is burned by using some of the oxygen and replacing it by an equal quantity of poisonous carbonic acid gas, tends to make the air impure. Such considerations will we think, convince anyone of the necessity of keeping the air we breathe as pure as possible. The only way to do this is to secure perfect and free ventilation and to remove the causes of impurity, both inside the house and outside from where the air comes.

It is hardly necessary to give further rules for the means of ventilation, as open doors and windows and free admission of sunlight will at once suggest themselves to the mind of any person. Fireplaces are of great use in this respect; and if possible no sleeping room ought to be without one, as the draught up the chimney allows impure air to escape and to be replaced by an equal quantity of air from without.

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From “Home Words� July and August 1878

by Hon. Somerset Ward

Agriculture We must all, I think, admit that, in our district there is much room for agricultural improvement. The majority of our farmers do not possess a large amount of capital; they have not the means of providing the machinery now used on large holdings in England and Scotland, nor are the farms in our country as a general rule suitable for such. We are therefore to a great extent dependent on manual labour. Wages were of late years considerably increased, without a corresponding rise in the value of farm produce; it is therefore of very great importance that every farmer should seriously consider whether he is cultivating his land to the best advantage; in fact, whether he obtains from his farm as much as it is capable of producing.

Any person of ordinary intelligence walking through our fields must be struck with the slovenly and ill-cultivated state of many of the farms. Much of the ploughing consists of turning over the surface to the depth of four or five inches, the subsoil being seldom reached; the fields are not properly cleaned, only half manured, over-cropped, laid down with an indifferent mixture of grass-seeds, and being in poor condition, the result is just what might be expected, viz., a sickly looking stunted crop of corn, potatoes without strength to resist disease, turnips not much larger than good sized apples, and pastures quite bare. We should be very sorry too that this is a description of all our farms; but does it not fairly represent the condition of many of our small holdings? If such is the case, is it any wonder that some of the farmers are in bad circumstances, just able to scrape together sufficient money to pay their rent, provided the season favours them, but pretty nearly ruined if it is unfavourable?

Now the question we wish to put to the occupier of such a holding as we have described is this: Are you content with the system, or want of system, which has hitherto prevailed; or do you wish to improve? We hope that, among some at least, there is a desire for improvement and we shall endeavour to point out how such may be affected. In the first place, do not attempt more than you can do thoroughly with the materials which you possess. A farm of fifteen acres, properly tilled, is far more profitable than one of twice the extent indifferently cultivated; for one-half of the outlay in the shape of rent will produce as valuable a crop. Every acre for which rent is paid should be made to yield a good return. A very little consideration will convince us of the truth of this but we believe that in most cases there will be no necessity for a reduction in the extent of the holding; what is desired may be obtained by an increase of energy on the part of the farmer, and by establishing a proper system of work, thus guarding against waste of time, your farm may be a small one with few hands to work it; make as much of them as you can. In cleaning your land, do not be content with sending a boy to pull weeds here and there, but set all hands to work, and do it thoroughly. When gathered do not empty the weeds, as is to often done into the nearest ditch where they will probably impede the watercourse, but make them into a compost heap, and the following year, when turned over and mixed with lime, they will be converted into valuable manure. Plough your stubbles as soon after harvest as possible; you will then be able to take advantage of any dry weather to gather the couch-grass and other noxious weeks; your land will be clean and ready for potato planting at the proper season; but if ploughing be deferred until

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spring as is frequently the case, your work will be behindhand, and your fields in bad condition for the seed.

Plenty of manure is essential for good farming; it is absolutely necessary that you should restore to the land that which it has given to the crop; manure is to the land that which oats is to your horses; without it your land would starve; half-fed horses will only do half-work, and half-manured land will only yield half a crop and yet we see many small farmers sell their straw, which is the foundation of manure, thus impoverishing their land and consequently themselves also. The straw should all be used on the farm, and a sufficient quantity of turnips grown to feed as many cattle as will consume it. We shall perhaps, at some future time, have a little more to say on this subject.

Comment on July-August article Home Words on Agriculture, by Isobel Magee

The article on Agriculture was written in 1879 by S.R.W. Now that is just 33 years after the famine of 1845. Emigration and deaths left the farming community very low.

Farms were very small 10, 20, 25 acres were most common.

These farms were rented from the landlords as they held the big estates. The three principal ones here were Viscount Bangor, Ballyculter Upper and Lower and part of Killough. Lord De Ross, Strangford Upper and Lower, Killard Upper and Lower and Strangford village. Rev Henry Leslie, Glebe and Charles Leslie Kilclief collected the rents for Ven Arch Deacon Gibbs (these were Church lands). The farmers rented land off these estates (the land was not their own). What often happened was that the tenant was not sure of having the same land year after year. If rent was not paid they were evicted. Hence tentant farmers had no encouragement or interest to keep the land fruitful. So there was a lot of disquiet amongst tentant farmers. This was the case up to the 19th century.

Lord George Wyndham was trying to get an act through Parliament supporting the poorer farmers to purchase their holdings off the Landlords and pay rent twice a year based on the price of land held. He asked them to vote for him to get into Parliament.

They voted for Lord George Wyndham and the act was passed in 1903.

The tentant farmers paid twice a year – May and November till it was paid out. It took about 68 years for Glebe land and Viscount Bangor and Lord De Ross estates a few years later to have theirs paid in full.

This is referred to as the Wyndham Act. The farmers took more interest in their land then and 100 years later all the small farms progressed into bigger farms. The farm horse that ploughed the fields and pulled the machinery has also gone, and it was a good day when the Iron Horse (Tractor) came.

The dog is called man’s best friend, but the same could be said of the horse; he pulled the plough that turned the sod from day-break to dark. Some farmers were good to their horses others gave them less to eat and asked too much of them. So I say it was a good day when the tractor worked the land.

This ends my comment on Agriculture Article in Home Words.

I. M.

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Seed Time

For some time past we have been busily employed in scattering seed over the ground which during the winter months we have been preparing for it. Our farms in this part of the country are small, and we cannot afford to allow any portion of them which can be converted into arable land to be waste. Therefore many of our farmers, at a considerable expenditure of time and labour, have carted soil from the banks of ditches, sides of roads, or where ever else it could be obtained, to cover the hillocks where the land is light and make them capable of yielding some return, the object being to prepare a good seed bed, in order to ensure an autumnal crop. All this requires diligence and hard work; but the farmer does not grudge the labour, for he looks forward to harvest time for repayment.

No farmer will allow his seed to remain uncovered on the ground for a moment longer than he can help. The harrows are set to work immediately, followed by the roller.

Otherwise our friends the rooks would very soon clear the field of the grain and the result would be a sad disappointment. We thankfully acknowledge that it has pleased God to give us a very favourable season for sowing; and having diligently used the means at our disposal we may confidently look to Him to bless our labours with an abundant harvest; but there may be among us a few farmers (very few, it is to be hoped) who have neglected the preparation of their land, who, from indolence during the winter months, have not half cultivated their farms and are now behindhand with their work. Such men, who, though occupiers of farms, do not deserve to be called farmers, cannot possibly expect their land to be productive. The scripture saying may be applied to such, “This we commanded you – that if any would not work neither should he eat” (2 Thess iii,10).

If a man will not exert himself he cannot expect to be successful.

May we not apply similar reasoning to another and more important kind of husbandry?

We are fully alive to the necessity of exertion in earthly matters; but, oh! How often, too often, it is quite the reverse as regards spiritual things! We are not content with acquiring a theoretical knowledge of agriculture, if we were not to put our theory into practice we should soon be ruined. And most assuredly, if we are content only with the theory of religion and neglect the practical part we shall become spiritual bankrupts.

A very earnest sower has been during the last few weeks scattering precious seed broadcast every Sunday morning from the pulpit of our parish church. What has been the result? – a very solemn question for us to put to ourselves. We have been appealed to most earnestly, again and again, to give our hearts to Christ to surrender our wills to His. Have we been as wayside hearers? Has the seed fallen on the surface of hard hearts and been caught away immediately by the great enemy of our souls, “lest we should believe and be saved”? Or has the seed fallen on the rock, making a temporary impression, too soon to disappear and leave the heart harder than ever? Or has the seed fallen among thorns? Have our hearts been so fully occupied with earthly matters, even those connected with our lawful callings, as to leave no room for the good seed of God’s holy word to grow?

Has this been the case with us since the solemn words have reached our earth. May we venture to hope that in the case of some of us the seed has fallen on good ground, not naturally good, but prepared and cultivated by the use of those means of grace which God has placed at our disposal with earnest diligence, watchfulness and preserving prayer that the Lord, by the mighty power of the Holy Spirit, would make our hearts ready for the reception of His blessed word?

Are we daily living in accordance with our profession? If not why, why not? When do we intend really to begin to live for God? We must make a common cement sometime

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or other, or we shall be eternally ruined. Why now now? Will it be more easy next week, next month, or next year?

The Lord Jesus has been knocking very loudly lately at the door of our hearts, seeking admission. Shall we not let Him in, to dwell there and reign there and turn Satan and self out? God grant that we may as we read these words give our hearts to Christ and He will give us the needful strength to enable us to follow Him faithfully.

S.R.W.

On A Summers Evening Sweet is the summer’s eve Calmly and brightly fair; The gently-closing flowerets leave Their perfume on the air; While slowly sinks the sun Far in the crimson west, And the rising moonbeams fall upon A scene of peace and rest.

Whither Away.

Little brook, rushing Over the plain, Dried by the sunlight Swelled by the rain Beaming with gladness Joyous and gay, Tell us, bright streamlet, Whither away?

Now faintly swells the song Of the distant heaving sea; And the flowers’ breath is borne along On wings of melody.

Soft cloudlet, floating O’er the blue sky, Like a fair vision Passing us by, Bright for a moment, Fading with day, Wilt thou not tell us Whither away?

Each dewdrop glances bright In the sun’s departing beam; And the rising stars, with gentle light Look down on the crystal stream.

Then the world is wrapped in sleep And healing slumber brings Peace to the hearts of those that weep From heaven on angel’s wings; And the western breezes heave The darkening wave once more.

Which, soft retiring seems to grieve That the summer’s day is o’er.

A.H.

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Sunbeam o’erspreading All things with light, Fair and unclouded, Beauteous and bright, Thou whose pure radiance Never will stay, Transient as lovely, Whither away?

Spirit immoral Just taking flight To the far regions, Hid from our sight, As thou wouldst dwell in Darkness or day Answer the question Whither away?

A.H.

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I Wound and I Heal (written in 1861).

Art thou bowed down with sorrow; And does thy weary breast Long for the dove’s swift pinions.

To bear thee to thy rest?

Do earthly friends forsake thee And earthly comforts flee?

Listen, thou mourning pilgrim All is not dark for thee.

Why is thy brow o’ershaded And furrowed deep with care?

Is there no balm in Gilead And no physician there?

Is there no voice to cheer thee No heavenly arm to guide?

Will Jesus e’er abandon The soul for whom He died?

He cannot, will not leave thee; He counts thy every tear; Thy Father only chastens Because thou art so dear; Not e’en a sparrow falleth Unheeded to the ground And to His blood bought people Shall He be faithless found?

All others may forsake thee The dearest earthly friend; But He is ever with thee He loves thee to the end And though thou mayest be lonely, By all around forgot Yet Jesus still shall cheer thee For Jesus leaves thee not.

He knoweth all thine anguish For in this world of woe He bore the heaviest burden That e’er was borne below, A rough and thorny pathway The weary Saviour trod, To give thee consolation, To bring thee nigh to God. Then let in hours of sadness Thy trust be fixed above And rest in all thy sorrow On God’s unchanging love; For oh! There’s One who knoweth Each pang thy heart can feel: A Father’s hand has wounded, And a Brother’s love shall heal!

A.H.

Parish Magazine – Binding “Home Words” We wish to draw attention to the above and remind our readers that the time has arrived for having this years’ numbers of their Magazine bound. They will present the same appearance as last years with bright blue cloth covers, gilt letters, and local parish title, and the charge will remain as before: one shilling only per volume. All subscribers desiring to have their numbers bound are requested to send them, with the money enclosed, to Castle Ward Downpatrick, as soon as possible before the 20th of December.

The twelve monthly numbers must be tied together, and the owners Name and Address distinctly written on the title page, which will be found in the December number, and each volume will be returned when finished.

As the binding has now become tolerably well known in our own and other parishes, we hope that we shall receive considerably more for this purpose for 1878 than we did for 1877.

The neat little book would form a worthy addition to the cottage library and including the local covers (which are bound at the end of each volume), prove, we think, a pleasing yearly record to the inmates of our Homes.

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Prayer – Written in 1859.

Pray ‘mid the storm of sorrow When the billows round thee roll.

Pray that the peace of Jesus May soothe thy weary soul; When all is glad around thee, And heaven is bright above, Pray that thou be not tempted To forget the Lord of love.

In life’s last hour of anguish, When thou near’st the Jordan’s tide, Let thy prayer ascend to heaven, That the Lord may be thy Guide; Cast thy care upon thy Saviour, And He will keep thy ways, Till before the throne of glory Thy prayer is changed to praise.

A.H.

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The Raholp Revenant

by May McMullan (O’Dougain)

‘They say Nicky Torney’s back,’ one of my cousins remarked to me in a matter-of-fact way when I was on one of my occasional visits to my native Lecale. It had been many a long day since I had last heard that remark, but it still had the power to send a shiver down my spine.

Nicky Torney, I should explain, is a ghost. Or an evil spirit. Or even – dare we breathe it – Ould Nick himself. It’s hard to say. But he was once a human being. Or rather an inhuman being. There are still people of the name in the district, who may or may not be related to Nicky. In any case the name is ideal for folklore for, apart altogether from the first name, the surname (from the Irish O Torna) sounds a bit like the Irish for thunder, so noisy and scary, and indeed has been changed to Thunder in other parts of Ireland, though it has always been Torney around Raholp.

It seems the Torneys were a well-to-do family in the 19th century (though dates are not a strong point here) who lived at Raholp, about three miles east of Downpatrick, on the site of the present Slaney Inn. As I heard it, the family had been Catholic, but Nicky had apparently turned away from the older faith, if not indeed from religion of any kind.

He supposedly had a daughter who wished to enter a convent, but Nicky would have none of it. Instead, he imprisoned the poor girl in the house and she finally died of a broken heart.

Eventually Nicky himself died. He was waked with all due ceremony, and everything left in readiness for the funeral next morning, coach and horses and all the trappings.

Early next day, the maid whose job it was to light the fires, set to work as usual, raking out the ashes in the parlour. But what was this? There staring out at her between the bars of the grate was the unmistakable face of her late master, wearing a demoniac grin.

Not a good start to the day.

Later on, when the horse-drawn hearse with the coffin aboard was climbing the hill (gradient 1 in 7) outside the house, who was observed standing at the window watching the funeral (with a satisfied air, it must be said) but the bold Nicky. And that was only the beginning.

From that day on he tormented the whole household. I don’t know that he actually appeared all that often, but he certainly made his presence felt in other ways. A favourite trick of his was to grab at the servant girls in the dark corridors, and knock the trays out of their hands. He gave the family no peace either when they were at their night prayers, with his constant nudging and poking. Once his brother was grooming one of the horses out in the stables. He combed and curried one side of the horse, but when he turned to do the other side, lo and behold hadn’t Nicky already done the other side, and a lovelier job you never saw!

Things finally got so bad that the priest was called in. Indeed, various priests were sent for in an effort to lay the restless spirit. But Nicky just made fun of them, taunting them with their hidden sins and failings, and silencing them with his brilliant repartee.

Eventually a particularly holy priest who had ‘the powers’ was prevailed upon to try his hand, and he succeeded in binding the spirit for seven years under the millstone at Raholp. (The priest’s hair, needless to say, turned as white as the snow, from his struggles with the powers of darkness). And for seven years there was peace and quiet.

But the day the seven years were up, Nicky was back to his old tricks, frightening maid

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servants and breaking glasses as bad as ever. The priest was sent for again, but this time his task was more difficult. This time he had to summon the spirit three times before Nicky answered. Here follows part of the conversation, verbatim, as I heard it (sepulchral tones de rigueur).

‘Where were you the first time I called you?’

‘I was in Hell.’

‘Where were you the second time I called you?’

‘The chains were being loosened off me.’

‘And where were you the third time I called you?’

‘I was here.’

This time Nicky was commanded to go into a bottle in the Red Sea and stay there for a very long time. And that’s where the problem lies, for nobody can now say with certainty just how many years were imposed. It is often said to have been the formulaic nine hundred and ninety-nine, but in any case, the spirit let a shriek on hearing the number, and shouted out ‘Not the nine! Not the nine!’

Some say the priest forgave him the nine; others say he did no such thing. And even if he did, which of the nines was commuted? Every now and then when I was at school, the rumour would start that Nicky Torney was back, and people would begin arguing, and counting, and doing sums. Some maintained that the year 1999 was intended, others that ninety-nine years thence was meant, or ninety years if you subtract the nine. The whole place would be in turmoil. When the Suez crisis was at its height in the fifties the chief concern among Raholp children was what would happen if one of those ships or submarines broke that bottle in the Red Sea and released Nicky Torney.

I asked my cousin what basis he had for saying Nicky was back this time. ‘Well,’ says he, ‘when the barman at the Slaney Inn was coming in with a tray of drinks the other night, something knocked the tray out of his hand. Isn’t that enough for you?’

‘Of course,’ I said, ‘it’s just that I didn’t think the time was up.’ And we started counting.

Same as ever.

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The First Ordination in St. Malachy’s Church, Kilclief.

It is always the aim of our History Group to record important events and occasions in our area, for future generations.

In this year 2004, I think it is appropriate, on the 20th anniversary, we should record a unique day in the life of Kilclief parish when Fr. Sean Gilmore was ordained.

In the past, students to the pr iesthood were ordained in their respective seminar ies with only their immediate families present. Such was the case when Sean’s uncles, Frs. Bob and Charlie Denvir, Fr John Fitzsimons and Fr Hopkins were ordained.

Now for the first time we were privileged to join with the Gilmore family on the occasion of Sean’s Ordination in Kilclief, 17th June 1984.

The joy and expectation of this event was new and exciting. For weeks before, the preparation necessary was the topic of conversation and everyone was willing to take part in whatever was needed. Flowers, choir, bunting, flags, stewarding and catering for the crowds expected, seemed overwhelming but Fr Kelly, P.P. was in control, buzzing around co-ordinating the various groups to make sure everything went well. Sean’s sister, designed and embroidered the special vestments for the ceremony.

Cousins, relatives and friends were returning from near and far for the celebration, anticipation for the re-union etc. was growing as the time approached.

The well known poem “The Priestin’ of Fr John” written on the occasion of the ordination of Fr John Fitzsimons, a native of Strangford, prompted a few local rhymers to mark Fr Sean’s great day in like manner so with affection and not without humour they strung some verses together – with apologies to the author of the former!

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The Preistin’ of Fr. Sean

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They’re priestin’ him next Sunday In the church across the way; An’ the excitement’s somethin’ awful Preparin’ for the day.

On all roads through the parish There’s flags of every sort; From Strangford up to Cargagh – From Kilclief to Bishopscourt.

Father Kelly shows his talent As he buzzes round about – Tellin’ us to fly our flags And get the bunting out.

They’re comin’ from Downpatrick And also from Kilkeel; There’s Bishop Daly with his mitre on The whole way frae Loughguile.

He’s master o’ pomp and ceremony Attendant on the day, Sure we’re all goin’ hither, tither Till our heads are near astray.

A lot o’ clergy will be there, We’ll never see the like!

Canons to the left of us An’ Canons to the right!

The ladies of the Altar Have the chapel bright and clean, With polishers and elbow grease And the help of ‘Mr Sheen’.

They’re on their way from Wexford – The President and the Dean, An’ lots of other clergy That we have never seen.

From steeplejacks to groundsmen, And skills we never knew That Peter, Dick and Jim possessed – Made an ever-ready crew.

Parish Priests and Curates, Some of them brand new And students in the makin’ Who’ll soon be clerics too!

The choir’s been practisin’ Almost every night, And Maureen’s had the devil’s trade To get the Latin right.

Then Uncle Charlie, P.P. – Kilcoo, Who’s trod the path before Will give our Sean a helping hand And re-live his own once more.

Then Angela on the organ, Will pull out all the stops To ensure that on that special day The choir will be tops.

There’s wans comin’ up from Dublin, I declare there’ll be no room F o r t h e y ’r e a r r i v i n ’ i n f r o m Newtownards, Belfast and even Toome.

There’ll be bigger crowds inside the church Than Kilclief has ever seen!

An’ those outside can watch it all On the video machine.

A host of Canadian cousins I hear are flyin’ in, There’s Teresa, Bus and Andrew; Ita, Gregory and Lyn.

Before they even get there It’ll be a sight to see For there’s papal colours flyin’ From every post and tree.

Joseph’s flyin’ oor frae Scotland And James on the London flight; Aine flies from Cardiff – There’ll be quare sore arms that night!!

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So now you’ve made your journey here To show your joy and love, On behalf of all the Gilmores Cead Mile Failte Roaimh.

May all of us remember too The dear ones passed away, We know they’re here in spirit On this very happy day.

And now, for Sean we offer prayers As all of us are wishin’ – That God may bless him in his work And guide him on his mission.

There’s one wee word o’ warnin though May we give you Father Sean, When you hear a childish whistle You’re preachin’ far too long.

So kindly Father Campbell Decided not to tarry For without delay, was heard to say – “That came from Ballynarry”!

Before we leave we give our thanks To those who served the tea; It seemed as much a miracle As that at Galilee.

So when we’ve made our journeys home And the great day’s passed and gone, We’ll all have lovely memories Of the ‘Pr iestin’ of Father Sean’.

For remember Mass in Cargagh One Sunday long ago.

You got tired of the sermon And thought you’d have a “blow”.

References: Father Sean

Father Kelly Maureen Angela Peter Dick Jim Father Charlie Canadian Cousins

Joseph and James

Aine

Son of Alfie Gilmore Maureen, (Denvir), Blackcauswey Road, Drumroe.

Father Michael Kelly, Parish Priest, Kilclief.

Mrs Jim Sharvin, Ballywooden. (Parishoner) Angela Denvir, Ballynarry. (Aunt) Peter Magee, Ballycotton. (Parishoner) Dick Cull, Ballynarry. (Parishoner) Jim McCann, The Roe. (Parishoner) Charlie Denvir, Parish Priest, Kilcoo. (Uncle) Teresa, daughter of Robert John Denvir, formerly from Legnegoppack – and Busher husband.

Ita, daughter of above Robert John Denvir.

Gregory, son of Bridie Denvir who is also a daughter of Robert John Denvir – with his wife Lyn and their son Andrew.

Joseph and James Merrick, sons of Una (Denvir) – Aunt – and the late John Merrick, Portaferry.

Aine Denvir, daughter of Brian (uncle) and wife Peig.

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Tribute to Nurse Nan

Miss Anne McManus of Strangford, Co. Down, Presenting a bouquet to Princess Anne

Nurse McManus, a native of Blacklion, Co. Cavan, came to replace her sister Mary – Mrs Keown – as district and maternity nurse in Strangford in September 1949.

The only mode of transport then for the nurse was the humble bicycle but even though the N.H.S. came on stream in 1948, its full benefits had not really reached our shores as yet. However Nan was provided with a car one week after her arrival. There were only 3 cars and 3 phones in the district at that time. She laughs now as she recalls that once in an emergency she commandeered a contractor, H.J. O’Boyle who was working in the village, to bring her patient to the hospital! The care of her patient was always her first concern, night or day, for she was a “full time” nurse – 24 hours per day.

Nan was highly qualified in general and maternity nursing and her expertise was much valued in the community.

The mothers of our area are forever indebted to her for the special maternity care she gave in home births. Few went into hospital for delivery but felt safe in her capable hands. She and Dr Moore made a first class Primary Care Team. Statistics show that from 1953 – 1972 that Nurse Nan delivered 320 babies. They also show that over this period, the last year registered only 1 delivery. It seems that this era was over.

Her daily rounds embraced the whole community; the infirm, the elderly and the families – Nurse Nan was there for the ‘comings’ and the ‘goings’ and all the ‘in betweens’ wherever she was needed. One could say – ‘From the cradle to the grave’!

In the 2000 issue of our magazine the late Paddy Corrigan relates his memories in his article ‘Funding of Health Care in the 30s and 40s’.

The ‘Queen Alexandra Nursing Society’ benefited from Paddy’s funding. Nurse Nan served this society for many years during her career. In 1972 to mark 21 years service,

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she, with nurses from Great Britain and 3 colleagues from Northern Ireland were invited to a Garden Party in St. James’ Palace in London, to receive her ‘Long Service Award’ from Princess Anne. Nurse Nan was chosen from over 150 nurses to present a bouquet of flowers to the Princess.

Her well-earned retirement was marked by a celebration and presentation in the Lobster Pot in Strangford, when the people she cared for showed their appreciation for her long service on their behalf.

May God bless her abundantly.

Imelda Fitzsimons has written this poem. I think we can all concur with the sentiments in the following poem.

Our Nurse Nan – The District Nurse by Imelda Fitzsimons Leaving home early at light of day Visiting those as she sets on her way, Especially the old and those alone Or that annoying person who kept ringing the phone.

Whether summer or winter, springtime or fall And a smile on her face as she made a call.

Always at the ready for tasks anew; Send for Nurse Nan – she’ll know what to do!

In snow or storms, sunshine or rain Answering the call to those in pain Nurse was seen in uniform of blue Pedalling along to people like you.

Having to risk it in all kinds of weather And, of course, looking as light as a feather.

But duty called and she couldn’t say “No” For we depended on her skill and knowledge, you know.

On the job for quite a long spell But things got better as one could tell.

And everyone knew she would go far With the bike thrown aside when she got the car.

Sometimes when a mother was having a baby Nurse was both midwife and doctor – maybe.

Or attending to someone breathing his last Night was soon morning as many hours passed.

A nurse in the village or outlying town Would normally cover a lot of ground.

As well as all ills known to man There is no one more kind than our own Nurse Nan.

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Michael McLaverty of Killard Ronnie Buchanan

Travel along the Shore Road from Strangford to Kilclief, past the Castle and on the bay, overlooking the Banks and Angus Rock, you’ll see a modest bungalow, built in brick and with a distinctive verandah. Look more closely, and beside the door you’ll notice a circular blue plaque, bearing the name, Michael McLaverty.The plaque is one of a series erected by the Ulster History Circle on buildings associated with distinguished Ulster men and women, and this one at Killard commemorates Michael’s life and work. Here at Killard the family spent its summers, and came to live after Michael retired from school teaching.

The blue plaque was unveiled on Saturday September 11th during a weekend of talks and exhibitions held to mark the centenary of Michael’s birth. A launch was held in the Linenhall Library in Belfast on the previous evening with Dr. Maurice Hayes, introduced

by Deputy Librarian John Killen, as principal guest; he was followed by Michael’s sonin-law, Michael Cregan, who gave the introductory lecture. Next morning speakers included: John Cronin, former Professor of English at Queen’s University, author Eugene McCabe, poet Michael Longley, and Nobel Prize winner, Seamus Heaney. This session was chaired by Dr. Sophie Hillan, editor of several recent editions of Michael’s work.

Participants then travelled by private coach from Belfast to Killard, with a commentary en route from Professor Ronald Buchanan. At Killard, a large gathering of neighbours and friends, politicians, writers and academics watched the unveiling of the plaque by Michael’s daughters, Sheila Cunningham and Maura Cregan; and listened with real pleasure as Seamus Heaney read his poem “an Evening at Killard”, written in 1969 after spending a weekend with the McLaverty family.

From Killard the coach and motor cavalcade moved to Strangford and on to Downpatrick, there to enjoy an exhibition of photographs “Window on Lecale” by Geoff Bocking, held in the new Library gallery. On then to Down Civic Arts Centre to see an exhibition

by Saintfield artist Gary Sloan; entitled “Light in the Fields” it was inspired by Michael’s love of the natural environment. Here a reception was held by Blackstaff Press to mark the publication of an edition of Michael’s collected short stories.

John Killen of the Linenhall Library, Cathy McKim of Down District Council and Sophie Hillan all contributed to the organisation of a notable event which gave particular pleasure to members of the McLaverty family, their friends and guests. Seamus Heaney was especially welcome, not least because he began his teaching career at the school in Belfast of which Michael was headmaster; he remained a life-long friend. For everyone concerned, Killard holds many happy memories; it is a very special place for the McLaverty family and for all those who enjoy the work of one of our finest authors.

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Poetic Words from Maria McManus

Maria McManus was born in Enniskillen and lives in Strangford. Her poems have been published in several recent publications such as Fortnight, The Lonely Poets Guide to Belfast and Alchemy. Most recently she was one of 5 new poets selected for publication by Lagan Press for Poetry Introductions 1, published in 2004. She is married to Kevin Og and has 2 daughters.

Lamb I never was called upon, in the end, to assist birthing sheep. A wee deft hand with the gra for midwifery and vision in the finger-tips could guide an unborn lamb’s dive to the world, nose between forelegs.

My mother would not allow it; something about scrapie, infertility, or me alone in the company of men in the small hours – Today, I reached up into your bunk bed, slid my hand beneath the quilt, and traced the line of your cheek neck and shoulder to waken you for school.

The moment your fingers wrapped round mine I was blessed with other miracles.

Defend That The woman in the white top with the red lilies and the black paint strokes covered all over with sparkling sequins that sent shards of rainbow glitter, splaying into the murky surrounds of the pub, sat reading a menu.

My husband cocked his head in a curt nod leftwards glancing to the Barristers at the next table and said, “Ask them boys, if they could defend that”.

Tobermoney There were blue ‘forget-me-nots’ on the path to the front door that couldn’t be opened because the key broke in the lock.

We took a short-cut through the wood-store, me tripping over logs in high heels and a work-suit.

Quarry tiles and a bike in the bathroom.

The plate with Parnell on the mantle of the kitchenYour dead grandmother’s house, Her red dressing gown dusty on a coat hanger, The dresser with the blue and white plates; wallpaper folding itself off the wall.

Family photographs – ghosts eyed up the newcomer.

Simple blue ‘forget-me-nots’ survive the generations. Facing west.

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Life Around The Slip and Along The Shore (30’s and 40’s)

I suppose my earliest memories of Strangford’s waterfront would start in the mid to late 1930’s. In those days a small beach had been created between what is now the Ferry Terminal and the day dock for the car ferries. Sand had been brought from Kilclief or Killard and gave the impression of a beach because within the Lough no real beaches existed, the inlet having been made in comparatively recent times from a geological point of view. Two bathing huts, male and female, were made from renovating older buildings, the men’s was an old toilet which stood at the extreme end of a little rocky peninsula.

In the late 19th century the local MD and politician, Dr McLoughlin, made quite a fuss about the hygiene of this same convenience, cholera being very much a serious health hazard in those days. Also from the same peninsula jutted the diving board. On the site of the ferry terminal was ‘the green’, an enclosed walled lawn with a summer seat at the high point which was very popular with the village folk and their children on the summer days and evenings.

The ‘Royal Rocks’ was an uneven path along which two or three houses used to stand. It skirted the landward side of the ‘green’ and on the beach end of this path was the ‘ladies’ bathing box’. The’ tooing and froing’ of the ferry boats and the loading and unloading of the odd coaster at the ‘big quay’ gave the impression of business and industry to our otherwise quiet backwater of a village. This impression was further enhanced annually by the local Regatta. The whole bay would be cluttered with punts and yachts of all shapes and sizes. I must interject at this point and say that my memory does not hold one single bad or rainy day – all days were sunny and warm. I wonder is this a personal experience or do I share it with others? In any case as a young boy I loved the summer days spent in such idyllic surroundings.

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As youngsters, we were quite ingenious and were able to arrange our own ‘Regatta’; sailing home made boats on the south side of the ‘slip’. The method of construction was simplicity itself. The main body of the boat was a cork, plenty of those around Sharvin’s or Quaile’s pubs, a matchstick for a mast and the side of a Bo-Peep match box for a square rigged sail. To give stability to the round body of the ‘boat’ a piece of slate was hammered into the bottom as a keel. These craft were raced across the fifteen foot space between the ‘slip’ and ‘the rocks’ or visa versa according to wind direction. Playing ‘pitch and toss’, or ‘cops and robbers’ around the ‘battery’, learning to swim from the ‘rocks’ to the ‘slip’, a distance of about five yards. Jumping off the top of the bathing hut at high tide with Jackie Pollock, Dickie McAfee, or Billy Armstrong, all still give me such a pleasure, even to remember.

Paddy McQuoid, John Breen,Wm. Conway, Pat Curran Jr., John Fitzsimons, Pat Curran, George McDowell, John Hanna, Helen Curran, Ann Sharvin, Harold Curran

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A darker side, however, existed. For inside of myself lurked a bit of a thug – a mini monster, capable of dastardly deeds. A grey loan sentinel that often stood on one leg at the very end of the outfall of the village sewer, with his endless patience, a swift striking fisherman, slow on the wing, so elegant and beautiful to me now, did not strike me as elegant then. After all, the cran – for that is what we called the heron, ate the effluent coming from the sewer, therefore he was a filthy bird – and the stink of he and his kind’s nesting place round in Castleward Bay at the Crans’ Point’, rose to high heaven. Looking back it is easy to see the mistaken, two and three make four, deduction. Fish came to the outfall to feed – the heron ate the fish – a fish diet leads to an equally smelly amount of defecation. However, too late came this enlightenment – for me and my kind, in our youthful cruelty, arrived in mid nesting season with long poles, knocked the young heron from their nests and terrified the adults, doing an unknown amount of damage to the heron population of my beloved Lough back all those years ago. Now no crans nest at the Crans’ Point. What a burden of guilt I carry!

Perhaps my shame shows through in this confession. That speck of cruelty also showed through when we used to catch young eels or what we called ‘Peter Nine Eyes’ and pit them against crabs in glass jars and watch the ensuing struggle. But enough of this self-flagellation because perhaps I am not unique, maybe others have done similar things and don’t admit them.

Round at the ‘wee slip’ lived an old couple from Belfast, Joe and Mary Robinson and their niece Ellie Pyper. They were ‘summer people’ but loved this little retreat, the last house beside the enclosed well at the top of ‘wee slip’. I had somehow inserted myself into their lives, brought them up-to-date with village gossip each time they came for a holiday and best of all had the use of their punt, a big heavy green boat with oars which seemed to me to be fifty feet long. That punt was my means of conveyance on my very first visit to the ‘Island’. Few people in the village ever visited the ‘Island’ and so, in full view of all, the swans would build their nests annually, rear their young and the world could watch the development of the cygnets just as school holidays were starting. Thus the ‘Island’ got its name ‘Swan Island’.

Holiday time brought in the ‘Shows’ with ‘swinging boats’ and ‘chair-o-planes’. As my dad drove down the ‘Chapel Hill’ one early summer day from the school in Kilclief, I saw from the car the ‘swinging boats’ up and all the stalls. I bolted my dinner begged a copper or two and ran down for a swing, full of ‘jizz and vinegar’ as they say. In about two minutes I had sprayed the surrounding crowd with half-digested spuds, gravy and baked beans. Oh the shame of the whole thing, so humiliating for one so full of himself.

And then another time the Circus came to town. ‘We may not be the biggest but we are the best ’proclaimed the posters – ‘Steckles Wonder Circus’ starring ‘Nobby and Bobby’ and ‘Gwen on the high wire’. Gwen and old Mrs Steckle also ran a gambling stall, squares marked out and little chutes to roll pennies down to land on a square and not touch a line won you that number of pennies marked on that square. Little did we know that the squares were exactly the size of a penny and it was well nigh impossible to win. The circus was the proud owner of a real ’gorilla’ – a poor dilapidated chimp of advanced years which was made to walk ‘the high wire’, hauled across with a lead round its neck, a most unsanitary smell emanated from the animal itself and from its cage.

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‘Nobby and Bobby’ were Mr Steckle and his son-in-law, Gwen’s husband. Their big act was juggling buckets. Gwen walked the tightrope, about four feet off the ground – that was the ‘high wire’. She looked for applause each time she made it across with circular motions of alternate hands. But to our untutored eyes at the time, it was a great show.

Bobby then whipped Gwen with a long bull whip which he cracked with all his might before the whipping began. Part of his routine was to extinguish a candle flame with the tip of the whips lash. This was applauded with great enthusiasm by the impressed rustic onlookers. When the circus left town all the kids made whips and the cracking of whips could be heard all over the village for the next fortnight.

We went through a construction stage at one time. Old Siney, the village councillor, was forever hunting us from the Newry Quay for breaking bottles on the old dump wall beside the little beach, the glass would fall on the seaward side creating a really dangerous place for paddlers and bathers. Maybe it was qualms of conscience, I don’t know, but we started to gather the broken glass and stones off the area and even approached the unapproachable old Siney to see if more sand could be brought. War meant little to us, or scarcity of money in the Council coffers but he said he would see what he could do. As a further effort, on the part of the village boys, we decided we would quarry the jagged rocks beside the bathing hut and flatten them off so we could lie there and sunbathe.

All kinds of old bits of iron were put to use as we toiled away at the job – we never did get it finished – perhaps there were a few bad days that summer. In any case the sand never arrived and somehow the green was sold, the diving board broke loose and floated out to sea, the bathing boxes were used as toilets and our self help schemes ceased as we grew into our rebellious teenage years. That was when the ‘pitch and toss’ schools and the poker games in the ‘out of the water’ yachts, hauled up for winter, became our pastime. Dry evenings outdoor ‘pitch and toss’ – wet evenings we loosened the canvas covers over the cockpits of the boats and crawled in and played cards in the lap of luxury in some rich man’s cabin – somehow a very satisfactory experience.

The Lough shore at ‘Cook’s Whins’, ‘Sharvin’s Whins’ and the ‘Black islands’ was a play area for the enjoyment of the village boys. At ‘Cook’s’ we had a pony to ride and feasted on limpets and ‘wiliks’ boiled in a tin of seawater cooked over a driftwood fire.

Sometimes, using the safety pin that otherwise held up someone’s trousers, we picked the meat out of the shell. Hygiene was given very little notice in those days – but none of us died. At ‘Sharvin’s Whins’ Pat Swail docked his punt. Pat fished for lobster in the Lough and along the ‘back shore’. He kept his bait in an old tin barrel in which carbide was sold. Stella Maris Hall, Sharvin’s Shop, Pub and Hall and Kilclief School all used carbide for lighting, the acetylene gas created when water was added to the lumps of carbide gave a very bright flame. The waste product of the human body was often used in an emergency on the carbide lamps which were in common use on bicycles in those days to create enough gas to light the way home from the ‘Pictures’ in Downpatrick.

‘Tail-light Murphy’, the policeman just loved to catch the unwary without a light on their bike.

Further along the shore towards the Lough mouth, Jimmy Taggart had his ‘residence’.

Jimmy’s famous saying was – ‘ough I couldn’t be bothered’. He had been at sea for a short time and was a helper to Mick McConville, the green keeper on the Cuan Golf Links. Jimmy was somehow estranged from his family and built himself a tin hut which contained a bed, that also served as a table. A chair, and everything else hung from nails

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on the wall and roof, all very basic. I must say that James himself, though dishevelled, was as clean as any of the other men who stood and conversed at the Quarry Hill corner into the late evenings. He had the use of a pump in Frank McCausland’s field within a hundred yards of his domicile. His conversation usually described his adventures at sea and the stories inevitably got bigger as the night progressed until one night he told the story which ended ‘and bejasus boys you should see them wemen in Zanzibar’. It’s doubtful if Jimmy was ever outside the Irish Sea. To end this paragraph with a touch of romance. Over the years the village got to know that the bold James had a pen pal, a lady from Strabane. She became impressed by his flow of discourse and beautiful copperplate handwriting but neither of them had ever seen each other or exchanged visits. Locals wondered did the lady realize how Spartan a life he led or how close to the verge of society he lived. It would be nice to think that Jimmy had found female love and companionship in later life. Rumour had it in the village that he was going to go to Strabane and marry but I don’t think he ever did. He took ill while still living in his tin hut and finally died. A quiet living, nice man, whose lifestyle was just that little bit different.

Further along the shore were the Black Islands and when the tide was out we could ‘skinny dip’ or plaster our bodies with the black mud and appear from the road to be clothed. The Islands themselves were loaded with blackberries and were the ideal spot for lying in the sun and listening to the ‘sough’ of the Routen Wheels under the shadow of Bankmore. There used to be a bridge from the Islands to the mainland. It was made from the keel of a wrecked ship and had rails on each side. But even in my day the wood had started to rot and eventually it collapsed or was disposed of for safety reasons and thus the Islands were cut off except at low tide.

Thomas McKeown or maybe John or Frankie, whose dad, Johnny, had a butcher’s shop and did his own slaughtering, once dumped a load of bones over the bridge and for long enough lobsters and cruibens could be caught as they fed on the marrow and bits and pieces.

The nearest proper beach, with sand and a good safe place for swimming, was at Kilclief Castle, and as bicycles were beyond most of our budgets, we seldom made it that far from home. Two and a half miles seemed a long way in those days but every once in a while a gang of us would set off for Kilclief, if it rained we would turn back but sometimes we made it. There we could see ‘Rocking Goose’ very clearly and the outside of the Lough leading to the greater world beyond our ken, a world that most of us in that generation were cast upon to find a living or a career. England claimed the most of us, the Hinds family, Patrick, Peter and Jim, the Hanna family, Harry, John and Gerry. Gerry finally ended up in Australia and myself to America. The McAfees, Jim and Dickie. Leo McCullough (Tush), Paddy McIlmurray, the McKeowns, Jim Sharvin, the Fitzsimmons family, Charlie to the Navy, Paddy (the Texas Kid) to London. Willie Holland, Francie, Dick and Seamus Quail, their cousins Pat, Jim, Dermot and Malachy. What a scattering that generation got. On the other hand there is no doubt that ‘absence does make the heart grow fonder’ and now and then when we meet it’s the reminiscences that we love to indulge in, the fond memories and good times of long ago, in a village that was out of the run of the tide, set aside, an idyllic spot, where we knew and were known by everyone, even the very dogs we knew by name, Snooker Quaile, Corkey Fitzsimmons, Tatters Conway, Puppins Sharvin and Doxie Cooke. No doubt being brought up in this atmosphere instilled a sense of belonging and security that stood by us and gave us the confidence to face the world head on.

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The Potato Trade in Strangford in the late forties.

by Isobel Magee

James Elliots & Co. Ltd. (Office)

Where the new houses have been built between Stella Maris Street and the Shore road is where Elliott’s coal yard was. There was once an office which was the hub of trade, James Elliott & Co. This was taken down to build new houses. Dockets of the seed potato trade referring to 13th December, till 29th December 1948, were found in the old office.

James Elliott and Co. Ltd. Portaferry and Strangford were the only merchants left in the last years of the potato trade 1948 – 55.

I would presume the writer of the dockets and the man in charge would have been Patrick Beattie. Paddy, as he was known, was the man in charge of all the arranging of the potatoes being lifted by lorry, by James Elliott from the farms.

These latter years were when the Seed Potatoes were being shipped across the water from Belfast Docks to England. The varieties of seed potato grown then in Lecale were Arran Banner, Arran Peak, Ulster Chieftain and Majestic. The size of the seed potatoes were 1 1/4” x 2 1/4” going through seed riddles. The Arran Banner was 2 1/4” x 3”, they were usually going to the Ministry of Food. The months of December and January were the months for shipping seed. It is note worthy that these dockets relate to the month of December 1948. Counted in Tons, 243 for one month; the two months on average gives 486 tons from Lecale. The rest being shipped were ware (eating) potatoes.

The potatoes were not grown to maturity. They were stopped growing by spraying them with a chemical composed of Sodium Chlorate when they were at 1 1/4” x 2 1/4”size.

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This left few ware potatoes and more chats which were discarded to be used as Poultry or Pig feed.

After the haulms or stocks were withered they were harvested, brought into the sheds and put over a potato riddler. The potato riddler was turned by a handle which shook the two riddles placed 2 1/4� size riddle on top, which let the smaller seed size fall down on to the 1 1/4� riddle. Any potatoes going through this were classed as chats, which were collected in baskets on the floor.

The potatoes that were sorted came over the top riddle then into the ware potato bag (these were eating potatoes) and the second riddle took the seed potatoes into the second bag. To keep the potatoes from damage the wire riddles were coated with rubber. The shovel that lifted the potatoes from the clamp to be sorted, had long rods with the top forming into a ball at the end, the shaft was wood. The idea was to keep the shovel flat on the floor when lifting the potatoes on the shovel, so as not to pierce or slice them.

The shovel lifted about a stone of potatoes.

After being sorted from the riddler they had to go down a shute. This was a wooden frame on four legs, higher at the back to give the potatoes a run down, with a stopper at the bag end.

The seed bag of potatoes was put up on the shute, the chipped rough surfaces, bumps, grass damage, or uneven quality were removed.

When the quantity of bags was filled they were weighed on a small weigh bridge with two 56 lb weights (one hundred weight). An empty bag was placed on top of the weights to make nett weight.

Then came the sewing of the bag. These were NI Seed potatoes, so the bag had to be sewed in a special way and sealed, before leaving the farm.

The opening of the bag was folded over and the bag was gathered at both sides to form two hand-grips (or lugs). The needle was a straight steel needle with a flat curve, leading

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to a point. It was called a packing needle. The string they were sewn with was a grey soft string about 36” in length. A green label was put inside of the bag on top of the potatoes before sewing, with the growers name and number written on it.

To sew you started in the middle of the top of the bag by taking a small stitch leaving about 4” hanging loose. The next stitches were half-cross stitch till you came to the lug. The string was wound round the lug tightly then the stitch repeated across again forming a cross-stitch until you came to the other lug and wound round tightly again; stitching cross-stitches back to the middle of the top. A green label with name, address, number of grower on it, was dropped over the needle, a short stitch was taken, two knots were tied by taking the loose end at the start, and remaining string in the needle, then trimmed off to about 4” to secure the seal.

Some areas had a green label, others had white labels and red labels. Certain areas were classed scab areas, so as potatoes would not be planted “labelled as seal” in clean areas.

The bags were packed, usually against a wall on their sides with the lug ends out.

The Ministry inspector came then to pass or reject. You were told to pull out which one he chose, put it over the shute, and perhaps two more bags in similar fashion. If there were any rejects they were turned down and had all to be put over the shute again.

The inspection on the farm was not the only one. They were examined at Belfast docks in a consignment again, and if not suitable, came back to the Merchant.

If they passed the inspection on the farm, they had to be sealed. This was a small round tag about the size of 10p piece, which opened in two rounds, the 4” string was crossed in the middle of one of the halves and the other half clamped down with an instrument for the purpose. The string was cut 1 1/2” from the seal.

The seed potatoes with NI Seed Potatoes stamped on the bags were ready to go via Ulster Transport to Belfast docks, where they were loaded on the boat, and reached the other side at Liverpool, London etc. or wherever. So that is the story of the Irish Seed Potatoes.

Dockets given to me by Eleanor McKibbin.

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List of Lecale farmer’s names who supplied seed potatoes to James Elliott & Co. Ltd. From 13th December 1948 to 30th December 1948.

Arran Peak Jack Crea, Ringawoody, Ardglass.

Bernard Doran, Ballysuggagh, Saul.

Edward Doran, Ballystoks, Downpatrick.

John McGowan, Ballytrustan.

Hugh Murphy, Rathmullan.

Robert Fitzsimons, Drumroe, Ballyculter.

Robert Cochrane, Inch, Downpatrick.

George S. Martin, Bishopscourt.

Gilchrist Bros., Chapeltown.

Dan Sharvin, Kilclief, Strangford.

Edward Doran, Ballysugagh, Saul.

Arthur Watterson, Banaghan, Raholp.

John Thompson, Ballyclander.

R.J. Gill, Bishopscourt.

Smyth Bros., Carricknaboly, Clough.

Ulster Chieftain Robert Singer, Ballyward, Ballywillwill.

Jack McMechan, Ballybranagh, Ballee.

George Press, Portloughan, Raholp.

Majestic Robert Singer, Ballyward, Ballywillwill.

Joseph Curran, Raholp.

Patrick Corrigan, Drumroe.

Shamrock Dawn Gerald Hynds, Rooneystown, Raholp.

Arran Banner Dan Magee, Ballycruttle.

S.J. Coleman, Inch, Downpatrick.

Patrick Ritchie, Mauntain Quarter, Raholp.

Richard Sharvin, Tullyratty, Raholp.

John Press, Audleystown, Strangford.

Bernard Lennon, Raholp, Downpatrick.

Robert Magee, Corbally, Downpatrick.

Mrs Croskery, Ballystokes, Saul.

Joseph Curran, Raholp, Downpatrick.

William Russel, Magharalegan.

Edward Grant, Carricknabb, Clough.

Eddie McIlroy, Quoyle, Downpatrick.

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Shipped from Belfast Steamship Co. Ltd. Donegal Quay, Belfast To: Messrs Hall Miller, Heaverson & Co Ltd Wishbeach Cambridgeshire Messrs J. Sykes & Sons, Corporation St., Preston.

Messrs R.H. Currie Ltd, Molilsham Lodge, Essex.

Messrs T Denne & Sons Ltd, Wye Kent.

Messrs Westgate & Sons Ltd, 37 Abbygate St., Bury St., Edmunds.

Messrs P Platts & Sons, 13-14 Market Place, Doncaster.

Messrs G H Fell & Sons, West St., Boston, Lincolinshire.

Messrs Cyrl Clyton & Co Ltd, Haleys Yard, Leeds.

Messrs George Morell & Sons Ltd, 46 East Parade, Harrogate.

Messrs Albert Chathen, 7 Fox St., Preston.

Messrs J.E. England & Sons, Wellington, Shropshire.

Messrs Jo Johnson & Sons Ltd, Liverpool 3.

Arran Banner must have been mostly grown in Lecale in 1940.

Here is an extract taken from: Potato Growing for Seed Purposes

By W.D. Davidson B.A. B.Sc.

Arran Banner, Raised and introduced by D. Mackelvie, Lamiash, Arran in 1926 and sold at £50 per stone!

It proved a good investment to several growers at this price.

Its price in 1927 was £8 per stone and in 1929 £40 per ton.

In 1930 the price was £3 per ton, owing to general slump in prices, due to the heaviest average yield on record in nearly all potato growing countries.

So from gold dust to pennies. Such is farming life.

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The Calf Path Sam Walter Foss

(First published at the turn of the century).

One day through the primeval wood A calf walked home, as calves should, But made a trail, all bent askew A crooked trail, as all calves do.

Since then two hundred years have fled, And I infer, the calf is dead.

But still he left behind his trail And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day By a lone dog that passed that way And then a wise wether sheep Pursued the trail o’er vale and steep And drew the flock behind him too, As good bell wethers always do.

And from that day, o’er hill and glade, Through those old woods a path was made.

And many men wound in and out And dodged and turned and bent about, And uttered words of righteous wrath Because ‘twas such a crooked path.

But still they followed – do not laugh – The first migrations of that calf.

The forest path became a lane That bent and turned and turned again.

The crooked lane became a road, Where many a poor horse with his load Toiled on beneath the burning sun, And travelled some three miles in one.

And thus a century and half They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years passed on in swiftless fleet; The road became a village street.

And this before men were aware A city’s crowded thoroughfare.

And soon the central street was this Of a renowned metropolis.

And men two centuries and a half, Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout Followed the zig-zag calf about.

And o’er his crooked journey went

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The traffic of a continent.

A hundred thousand men were led, By one calf, near three centuries dead.

They followed still his crooked way, And lost one hundred years a day.

For thus such reverence is lent To well established precedent.

A moral lesson this might teach Were I ordained and called to preach.

For men are prone ‘to go it blind’, Along the calf paths of the mind, And work away from sun to sun To do what other men have done.

They follow in the beaten track And out and in and forth and back, And still a devious course pursue To keep the path that others do.

But how the wise old wood-gods laugh Who saw the first primeval calf.

Ah! Many things this tale might teach, But I am not ordained to preach.

Submitted by George McKibbin.

Inverbrena Local History Group Magazine 2004

The Strangford Presbyterian Church Submitted by George A. McKibbin, Ballyculter.

In the early part of the nineteenth century the Presbyterian families living in the Strangford Village and surrounding district were about 106 in number, many of whom had not been in the habit of attending any place of public worship.

In 1843 the Down Presbytery responded to a request from this group of Presbyterians to organise regular services in the village.

The cause prospered and the congregation was granted official status by the Presbytery on 11th February 1845. The first minister, Thomas Irvine from Clintnagooland near Ballynahinch, received a calling and was ordained on 9th December in the same year.

Up to this time the congregation had no permanent place of worship, but early in 1846 a suitable site was granted by Lord De Ros, at a nominal fee of ten shillings per annum (freehold).

Plans having been drawn up it was agreed to invite Captain Nugent of Castleward to perform the act of laying the foundation stone at a special service to be held on the site on Tuesday 14th July at twelve o’clock, this he very willingly accepted.

A large gathering of people from all denominations were in attendance on this date, the Rev.Thomas Irvine Pastor of the congregation extended a hearty welcome to everyone present including Captain Nugent and Lady Bangor; he then conducted the service of hymn singing and prayer.

At the appointed time Captain Nugent proceeded to the stone, and in the customary manner, deposited a bottle containing a congregational record, the Banner of Ulster,

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McComb’s Almanac, and a number of the current coins of the realm.

Captain Nugent expressed his thanks in a most becoming manner for the honour conferred on Lady Bangor and himself, congratulated the congregation on their happy circumstances, and handed Mr Irvine a very generous donation, also distributing liberally to the workmen.

The meeting then dispersed, evidently delighted with the proceedings of the day. Later that year the Church was opened for public worship by the celebrated cleric, Dr Henry Cooke, whose imposing statue familiarly known as “The Black Man”, stands at the junction of College Square East and Wellington Place, Belfast.

Twenty families were connected with the congregation and the annual stipend paid to the minister was £25 (this was augmented by £75 from a State grant first awarded to Presbyterian ministers in the reign of Charles II and continued for almost two centuries); the average Sunday collection amounted to 1s 3d which was used for the lighting of the meeting house and other necessities.

The Presbytery congratulated the congregation on having erected a comfortable and handsome meeting house, and being able to do so without being burdened with a heavy debt.

One wonders why there were only twenty families connected with the Church in 1848?, perhaps the dire effects of the Great Famine of 1845 – 48 had led to a decrease in the number of Presbyterian families living in the Lecale area.

In the late 1850s a manse was built beside where the Lobster Pot restaurant now stands, for the Rev Thomas Irvine, who had married the daughter of Dr Geo. Finlay a minister of the Down Presbytery in 1848.

The Rev. Robert Allen Beatty of Newcastle held the honour of being the longest serving minister of the congregation’s history. He was ordained on 4th April 1888 and retired after thirty-four years service on 1st May 1923. The Rev J.C.G. Bell, minister of the neighbouring congregation of Ardglass resigned in November 1922 and on the retirement of the Rev Beatty the committee of the General Assembly advised the

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Presbytery to consider the possibility of Ardglass and Strangford being made a joint charge while retaining their individual identity would share the services of a minister, this being agreed to by the two congregations.

The new minister would occupy the Ardglass Manse. In a record dated 2nd May 1873 it is noted that the average weekly attendance was 37, with 33 communicants.

1st Baptism 1st February 1846 Mary Anne Jackson, no parents names given.

1st Marriage 23rd June 1848 Hugh Majilton, married Mary Anne Dick.

Last Baptism 3rd March 1985 Keith Ernest George Waterworth.

In the Church’s history 450 ministers were organised to preach in the Church.

In a very early minute of a committee meeting a complaint was made that the pulpit was too high, it was agreed to have it lowered. On a slate tablet above the entrance door are inscribed the Roman numerals AD.MDCCCXLV1 denoting 1846. Dr Cromie, a former moderator of the General Assembly while preaching at a Harvest Thanksgiving Service in the Church spoke of the special appeal one felt, not only with the beautifully decorated Church, but as one gazed through the windows on the eastern side at the panoramic view of the surrounding countryside around Isle O’Valla, and beyond, to the narrows of Strangford Lough, the Ards Peninsula, and the Bar Mouth entrance and the Irish Sea. With declining numbers in the congregation over a number of years and internal structural damage, it was finally decided to close the Church. The concluding service was held on Sunday 7th December 2003 at 2.00 pm. Two of the oldest surviving members of the congregation are Miss Muriel McKibbin – a lifelong member, now in her 88th year and in Lecale Lodge nursing home in Downpatrick and Mrs Sarah Milligan, a member since 1952 still lives on Downpatrick Road in Strangford. A former minister of the Church from March 1951 to December 1971, the Rev. W.T. Agnew, now in his late 90s is living in Bangor, Co. Down. Sadly, that ‘House of God’ for one hundred and fifty seven years, while it stands empty, is taking its toll from present day vandalism.

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I wish to acknowledge the help I have received from Mrs McMann a former member of the Strangford congregation and also from Mr Alber t Colmer in allowing me to use his photographs. I have provided a postcard photograph of the Church sent to me by Miss Mona Cooper of Ottawa, Canada whose father Fenimore Cooper was also a member of the Strangford congregation before immigrating to Canada around 1907. I would draw the reader’s attention to the photograph on the reverse side of the Church photo where it states by Coon of Moira for J.P. Sweetman, General Merchant, Strangford and printed in Saxony.

The postage 1/2d inland 1d foreign.

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Come back old scenes Come back old scenes in thoughts to me Bring murmers of the deep blue sea.

Bring glimpses of that wooded shore Where joy was mine in days of yore.

For ah tis sweet to live anew Those happy days that lightly flew Before the chill of care or woe Had touched my heart long long ago.

Oh bring them back a little while The song, the dance, the sigh, the smile The opening gleam of new delight, The rosy dream of summer night.

Oh let me hear each silvery tone And clasp each fond hand in my own And feel once more the genial glow, That warmed my heart long long ago.

Oh! Let me see those friends again Now travelled far oer land and main A group as when we laughed and sung In days when they and I were young.

But ah! Tis vain to call to-day On life’s young glories past away My only joy is now to know They blessed my heart long long ago.

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Inverbrena Local History Group Willie Crea Isobel Magee Mena McKeating Edie Hynds Anne Ellis Suzanne Hamill Eamon Seed Brian Fitzsimons George McKibbin Ronnie Buchanan Michael McConville Imelda Fitzsimons Bobby Magee (Chairman) Eamon McMullan (V. Chairman) Eleanor McGurnaghan (Secretary) Leslie McKibbin (Treasurer) Peig Denvir (Editor)

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Plum Pudding 1940 !!

Take 11/2 lbs each of potatoes and carrot boiled and weighed when cold; rub through a colander, or put through a mincing machine; 11/2 lbs each of raisins, currants, flour & suet, 1 lb moist brown sugar, 1 small nutmeg, 1/2 lb

candied peel,

1 lemon (juice & grated rind), 6 tablespoons of treacle.

Mix together and boil for 6 hours.

Boil for another 4 hours before using.

y p ap

H a ve

a H

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s a stm

i r Ch

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