Killorglin’s River of Memories by Killorglin Archive

KILLORGLIN’S RIVER OF MEMORIES BLÚIRÍNÍ ÓN LEAMHANN LITERARY FRAGMENTS FROM THE LAUNE

Published by

KILLORGLIN ARCHIVE SOCIETY

Editors TOM DOYLE, TERENCE HOULIHAN, STEPHEN THOMPSON

This book is dedicated to PATRICK ‘PATO’ ROCHFORD President of Killorglin Archive Society

The Society wishes to honour the memory of those Founder Members who are no longer with us: Patrick “Patsy” Cronin Liam Crowley Canon Michael Fleming Joseph A. O’Dwyer

Nollaig 2020

FOREWORD What you see here before you is an eclectic gathering of histories, stories, poems and accounts from the Killorglin and Mid-Kerry area. Killorglin Archive Society was established in 2012 by a group of enthusiastic volunteers who have a shared interest in the preservation of the oral, written and photographic heritage of Killorglin Parish, under the banner: “Preserving the Past for the Future” This book, published under the auspices of the Society and edited by Stephen Thompson, with his co-editors Tom Doyle and Terence Houlihan, admirably meets these objectives. We learn about the influence of geography on the development of the area, the human story behind landmarks in the town. Different sectors of social and economic life add depth and understanding to the picture of the Killorglin area as we know it today. Apart from the stories about people who stayed in the locality, we read about those who had to leave the area, sometimes never to return, sometimes just to return for a flying visit. We read about the heartache and loneliness they left behind. The writers have made clear how the Killorglin area developed through the enterprising and forward spirit of its community, whether in education, farming, business or sports. Above all, the writers demonstrate a heartfelt sense of place, and pride in their locality. I would like to thank all those who contributed to this interesting collection of articles which help to carry the reader into the atmosphere of Killorglin’s past while creating an understanding of its present. I am sure that it will give the reader a lot of pleasure, and to paraphrase a well-known saying “there seems to be something for everybody in the audience”. This book is a must read for everybody who treasures our past and heritage; and gives a lovely introduction to ‘Living History’ for our young people. Finally, as Chairperson of our Society, I invite our readers – both at home and abroad – to send photographs, stories and memories about Killorglin to us, which we can place on our website for everybody to view. Our contact details are shown below: Email: killorglinarchivesociety@gmail.com Facebook: facebook.com/killorglin.archives/info Website: killorglinarchives.com John J. O’Connor, Chairperson

INTRODUCTION This collection of articles draws on a wide range of experiences and perspectives on events that helped Killorglin define itself. The focus is on the twentieth century, with equal emphasis given to the decades since the 1960s. This latter period – which saw immense social and economic change and development – is often overlooked because it is seen to be too recent to merit ‘historical’ investigation. All the writers bring a unique and personal insight into the events they describe. They recount their involvement in, and reflection on, community-based groups and organisations in Killorglin. Encompassing social, educational and cultural history in a wide variety of articles, the contributors look at sport and recreation (Greyhound Racing, Dooks Golf Club and Laune Mountaineering Club), as well as a neglected playwright and how the First World War and the Irish Civil War made their impacts on Killorglin’s collective memory. The various chapters are interspersed with evocative pieces from local poets and writers – again showing the depth of literary talent in the parish. The editors wish to convey their grateful thanks to all the authors who generously contributed articles and poems for this volume. It was with great sadness that we learned of the untimely passing of Kevin Griffin. He gave us the wonderfully descriptive account of his schooldays and of his career as a teacher in the “Carnegie” and the ISK. May he Rest in Peace. The editors wish to acknowledge the support and encouragement received from our fellow members of Killorglin Archive Society. Front cover design courtesy of Murphy Print and Graphic Design Ltd., Killarney. Present-day photograph on front cover, and photograph on end cover, courtesy of Michael Kenny (mgkphoto.com). Thanks are also due to Liam FitzGerald, who helped with the online publication of this book.

Editors: Tom Doyle, Terence Houlihan, Stephen Thompson December 2020

TABLE of CONTENTS TITLE

AUTHOR

PAGE

River of Memories

Patrick O’Sullivan

King Puck Lives Forever

Conor Browne

Máirín Cregan: Author and Playwright

Fiona Brennan

A Christmas Tale

Noreen Ahern

Anyone Here For There?

Thomas O’Sullivan

The First Day of Summer

John Melia

Killorglin’s WW1 Servicemen

Stephen Thompson

The Circus

Patrick ‘Pa’ Houlihan

Ceárd Scoil – Chill Orglan

Austin O’Reilly

Oulagh Bog

Eamonn “Edso” Crowley

My Life Growing Up with the Greyhounds

Patrick “Chub” O’Connor

The Road to Lower Reen

Kathleen Harris

The American Letter

Denis Doyle

Killorglin’s Greatest Historian

Tom Doyle

The Girl in the Red Coat

Ann Robinson

The Fishery Polkas

Thomas O’Sullivan

My Farming Times

Patrick O’Neill

101

Farewell to the Old Oisín Cinema

Peter Joy

119

A Celebration of the Calendar Year in Killorglin

Michael Houlihan

122

Sisters Forever

Eileen McGillycuddy

128

The “Sale” of Dooks Golf Course

Declan Mangan

129

The Miller of the Laune

The Kerry Sentinel

136

The Dream that became a School

Kevin Griffin

139

Rules & Regulations of the Carnegie Library

Carrie Griffin

146

Laune Mountaineering Club: The Early Years

Stephen Thompson

147

The Bridge

Barry Harman

156

The Battle for Killorglin

Tom Doyle

157

RIVER OF MEMORIES Patrick O’Sullivan Rivers are something of a paradox. They are a constant in the landscape, yet they are constantly changing and evolving, as if they are forever redefining, reimagining themselves and their lives. Maybe this is why we identify with them, why we are drawn to them because we know that they too have lives of their own. In ancient Greek philosophy, rivers were symbols of flux and change. A favourite maxim was: “You can’t step into the same river twice”. In other words, the river will have changed by the time you step into it a second time. The poet Shelley, meanwhile, saw rivers as a metaphor for unity, not just the bringing together of rills and streams and sources, but the long journey for the ultimate union with the ocean. Lebor Gahbála Érenn, the Book of Invasions, not only gives a list of the early mythical invaders of Ireland, it also describes the creation, the coming into existence of rivers, lakes and mountains. At the time of the second invasion led by Partholón, for instance, we are told that three lakes and nine rivers had already formed. The river Laune: Abhainn na Leamhna. The name in Irish has a lyrical ring to it that evokes something of the grace and splendour of the river itself. It is no great wonder then that the Laune, like so many of its counterparts, has its place in early Irish myth and legend. The poet Forgoll and the King of Ulster, Mongán, got into a dispute over the resting place of one of their heroes, the poet threatening to sing spells “upon their waters, so that fish should not be caught in their river mouths”. Mongán, however, sent for Caoilte, one of the great warriors of the Fianna, to resolve the dispute, and so it wasn’t long till Caoilte began his journey in the far south. “I hear his feet in the Laune, in Lough Leane, in the Morning Star river, between the Uí Fidgente and the Arada, in the Súir, in the Echuir, in the Barrow, in the Liffey, in the Boyne, in the Tuarthésc, in Carlingford Lough, in the Nid, in the Newry river and in the Larne”. Caoilte, a giant of a man, was a great runner, the text presenting him as covering the entire sweep of the country from the Laune to the Larne to settle the point at issue in the King’s favour. Meanwhile, in Toraíocht Diarmuid agus Gráinne, the lovers Diarmuid and Gráinne: under the protection of Aonghus Óg, travelled south and west till they came to the River Laune, “then as now a great river for salmon”, but known as Garbh Abha na Fianna, the rough river of champions. According to one version of the story, Diarmuid caught a salmon in the river and cooked it on a spit. Then he and Gráinne went across to the other side of the river to eat it there, as their protector Aonghus had bidden them to do. They stayed a while by the Laune before travelling southwards to the River Caragh: the plain between both rivers known as the Grey Bog of Findliath. According to King’s History of Kerry, the Laune derives its name from the elm tree, An Leamhán, draining Lough Leane from Dunloe to Killorglin, past Beaufort and Ballymalis, and is famous for its salmon fishery. King also says that the river Leven in Scotland was named after it by the Dal n-Ariada of Lough Leane who settled there. The Laune is approximately 14 miles (23 kilometres) long and carries most of the rainfall from the MacGillycuddy Reeks, Na Cruacha Dubha, Ireland’s highest mountain range. Many streams on the south side of the Reeks drain into the Upper Lake before filtering down to Lough Leane. There is reference to a Viking force being

defeated on the banks of the Laune in 915AD, a reference that conjures up images of the Vikings’ iconic long boats streaming into the estuary, only to be rebuffed by the defenders of the place at the time. One of the most celebrated books on Irish rivers was published in 1903. The publishers, however, regretted the fact that publication of The Salmon Rivers of Ireland by Augustas Grimble had been delayed because fire had destroyed the sheets, type and blocks on the eve of publication. Grimble describes the Laune as a rapid running stream, ideal for the rod, “for its large lake reservoirs keep it in good angling ply from ten to twenty days after a flood and while its waters are rarely so dirty as to be unfishable, it rushes through a wild stretch so destitute of trees as to make casting delightfully easy”. According to Grimble there were upwards of sixty named casts, among them Columns, Bridge Stream, Castle Pool, Castle Point, Border’s Inch, Collinanodes, Breen’s Stream, Strand Pool and Annadale. The river opened for nets from the 17th of January to the 31st of July, the rods beginning on the 1st of February and ending on the 31st of October. A vintage map of the Laune (see overleaf) gives the names of the draft net fishing pools, names that are in their way like passports to a bygone era when fishing was a way of life, and much of the talk was of tides and currents and boats. The names of the fishing pools include: Poulfatt, Loughnane (Locháin na Muice), Poulflugh, Pouldubh, Farrancloghny, Gortnaloga and Clounmurray (Cluain Mhuire). A notable omission from the map is the fabled fishing pool of Máthaireach on that part of the river behind Steelroe. The antiquity of the map can be gauged from the fact that it makes reference to the House at Ballykissane, 1685 and to Blennerhassett’s Weir, 1730. It also gives details of the grants of fishing rights by the Stuart Kings to local landlords; those edged in brown included in the Conway Grant, those edged in red in the Godfrey Grant and those edged in yellow in the Fitzgerald Grant. That these grants were greatly valued by their recipients is illustrated in the mention of various lawsuits – Blennerhassett v Drew 1685; Godfrey v Blennerhassett 1730; Blennerhassett v Godfrey 1732.

Map of the Laune showing some of the most celebrated fishing pools on the river. Photograph courtesy of Billy Dodd and Patrick Griffin, Killorglin.

The story of Pouldubh (Blackpool) is an interesting one. The Priory or Abbey of Killagha was founded and endowed by the Norman knight Geoffrey de Maurisco in the reign of King John. The Priory’s vast wealth and possessions included the fishing rights at Pouldubh, where the lands of Callinafercy West face those of Ballymacprior across the Laune. The monks retained these rights until the dissolution of the Priory in 1573, after which they were granted, along with all the Priory’s other lands and properties, to the Earl of Desmond. The Desmond Rebellion saw the rights change hands again, when they were leased to Captain Thomas Spring. It was not until the 1660s that all the Priory’s property, including the fishing rights at Pouldubh, was confirmed in the name of the adventurer John Godfrey. Over a hundred years later, in 1796, Thomas Mullins of Burnham sold lands at Farrancloghny and the fishery attached to Sir John Godfrey, adding further to the Godfrey family’s fishing rights on the river. The Knights of Kerry also had free fishing on the Laune at Gortaharig adjacent to Clash Island. It was in the year 1849 that a partnership of salmon buyers was established at the Fishery, Killorglin. The partnership comprised Samuel Keays of Cork city, G. Ronayne of Youghal and William Dodd of Killorglin. They traded as K.R.D., these initials stamped on the wooden boxes in which the Laune salmon were exported all over the world. The scale of the salmon fishery on the Laune in the late nineteenth century can be gauged from the fact that, in the twenty years from 1872 to 1892, the Killorglin nets caught an average of 8,500 fish per year, as against an average of 1,300 by the Killarney nets in the same period. According to the book published in 1903, there were only twelve to fifteen boats fishing the Laune around 1870; but the number had increased dramatically to somewhere between seventy and eighty “all fishing with draft nets, drawing them to the shore, or onto the sandbanks bared by the falling tide”. This figure of seventy to eighty seems inordinately high, but clearly includes both the Killorglin and Killarney fisheries in the total.

Licences for boats cost ÂŁ3 at the time and Grimble argued for a limit to be placed on the number of licences issued. There were three hatcheries on the Laune in the early years of the twentieth century, by far the largest owned by Power and Dodd at Killorglin, a second at Muckross, kept by the Conservators, and a third at Killarney House. An illustration in the book of 1903 shows Inspector J. Hensey weighing and marking salmon at the Killorglin Fishery, the timber boxes with the iconic K.R.D. logo, and the handsome cobbled yard also in view. My grandfatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s boat was one of those fishing in Pouldubh at the turn of the last century. His name was John D. Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan: he and his wife Catherine rearing their family in a small two-roomed thatched cottage on the very edge of the river. The crew at that time included some of their sons, my uncles, some of whom later emigrated to America. The blessing of the boats was one of the long-established rituals of old, and no boat ever took to the water without a bottle of holy water on board. Sometimes I picture my grandmother standing before the door of the cottage, looking upstream towards Pouldubh: the salmon, like living silver, quivering in the nets when the men made their hauls again. The little thatched house was a great meeting place for the fishermen and their friends, the river and the sun still throwing reflections on the walls on long hot summer days. When this happens, I begin to think that if I stand quietly enough and listen closely enough, I may hear the lilting sounds of fiddle and melodeon, just as they were heard when the fishermen gathered there of old.

Photograph courtesy of Daniel Kearn, New York

The fishermen of The Cliff had transferred to the river Maine by the 1960s, but we still drew the salmon by donkey and cart to the Fishery office in Killorglin, just as my grandmother had done all those years earlier. I was always intrigued when the salmon were weighed in the scales by Michael Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan of Sunhill, the fish instantly put into wooden boxes and covered with ice, ready for transport to different parts of Ireland as well as abroad. I remember Michael speaking to customers on the telephone, the latter one of the old-fashioned models that had to be cranked by the handle to get through to the operator in the exchange. The catches on the Laune in the Sixties rivalled those of the early years of the century: Daniel Garvey and his crew catching over eighty salmon in a single haul, a record later beaten by Thady Clifford when almost twice that number were caught. The fishing families of the time included those of Clifford and Garvey, McKenna, Mangan, Ferris, Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan, Guerin, Murphy, Griffin and Linehan. When we went to the office, we regularly met many of those involved in the fishing, among them Brendan Mangan the net maker, and Michael McKenna, who had the job of transporting the fish from the fishing grounds to the office. Saturday was pay day, when the pink dockets issued during the week were totted up and the monies paid out, less any charges or expenses incurred along the way. I remember waiting in the cobbled yard with my mother as Henry Dodd put the final touches to the accounts in his office, the willow trees fringing the tide, where they made reflections of their own on sunny days.

Newspaper cutting courtesy of the Pa Houlihan collection

My father had a song about fishing on the Laune in the old days. It was called “The Dawning of the Day” and not only made reference to the bailiffs of the time, but also to the boats lying at anchor in the early morning: “We’ll fish to Knightly’s Island, And from that down to the quay, And our boats will be at anchor At the dawning of the day.” My aunts Kathy and Margaret regularly sang the song for visitors, while my aunt Nora rejoiced on hearing it again when she came home on holidays from America in the 1960s. An old source makes reference to “access at Pallas to the icehouse on the Laune”, the name Pallas no longer remembered locally. The icehouse was already a memory when I was young, but had in its heyday been accessed through the old sandstone cliff at the back of the bailiff’s cabin: the latter a stone construction on the strand not far from Pouldubh, which allowed the water keepers to keep a watchful eye on things whenever it suited them. There were two icehouses near Farrantoureen Lake. These were dug twenty-five feet into the ground, stone lined and thatched. The remains of the icehouse on the Laune stood at the edge of Langford’s field overlooking the river, but a recent cliff fall means that access through the cliff is no longer possible. The ice for the Farrantoureen icehouse was taken from the lake in hard winters, but whether the ice for the icehouse on the Laune came from the lake or the river itself is debatable. As Patrick Houlihan puts it so eloquently in one of his articles: “The icehouses were in their time a testament to what nature and need achieved when they worked together”. Inevitably, when ice came to be produced artificially, the icehouses became obsolete and fell into disrepair. In the early 1800s the British government was looking for alternative sources of hemp to make sail cloth for its navy, when the threat of a French invasion seemed very real. In 1811-1812 Alexander Nimmo surveyed and mapped over 76,000 acres of land on the Iveragh Peninsula, 17,000 acres of which was on the seashore area of the rivers Laune and Maine, and Castlemaine Harbour. This led to the construction of earthen banks along the Laune and Maine, which became the responsibility of the Board of Works after the foundation of the Free State. My father and many of his friends, who spent their time fishing in the summer months, were employed by the Board in the maintenance of the banks in the autumn and wintertime. As time went on, the banks were strengthened by the addition of large boulders and concrete. Such developments were prompted by the great flood of 1951, when the river burst its banks on St. Stephen’s night. The event left such an indelible mark on the folk memory of the place that for decades afterwards many events were still dated in relation to the flood: how many years they happened before or after it, for instance. The road at The Cliff was so completely flooded, for instance, that a boat travelled up and down it ferrying stranded families to safety. One of the rescuers told me of how they had difficulty in getting one old lady to leave her thatched house, for all that was troubling her, he said, were her fine spools of wool bobbing around in the water. Animals were drowned in the flood, but thankfully no human lives were lost. Another memorable event of the night was that a motorcar, one of the very few in the area, was forced to make its way down the narrow boreen because the road was impassable. A group coming home from the dance in Killorglin remembered coming on the flood at Clooncarraig, grateful as they were for a lift from a passing lorry driver who told them to “jump in at the back”.

When Amairgin, the poet of the Tuatha Dé Danann, first set foot on Irish soil he identified himself with many aspects of the landscape, among them the salmon in the rivers. It is no great wonder then that the story of the wild Atlantic salmon has long been central to the narrative of the Laune, and of so many rivers like it. Everyone knows how the salmon return to spawn in their native rivers: the various names for the salmon in its different life stages illustrative of its place in natural history. These names include fry, parr, smolt, grilse or peal, and maybe the best known of all, the spring salmon. After they spawn in shallow gravel beds, the salmon are exhausted and most of the males die. Some of the females survive, however, dropping back to the sea, where they feed and grow bigger, ready to return the following year to spawn once more. When I was growing up, most school children would have considered themselves very, very lucky to have a florin – a two shillings piece – in their pocket; a coin bearing a handsome motif of a salmon, another reminder of the fish’s place in the history and culture of the country. Our Irish reader in Callinafercy National School was called Geataí an Eolas, the Gates of Knowledge, and had a piece about Fionn and the Bradán Feasa, the Salmon of Knowledge. My father said that the river and the fishing were in his blood, sentiments that came back to me when I read the work of American poet, Langston Hughes: “I’ve known rivers ancient as the world, and older than the flow of human blood in human veins”. If rivers are part of the physical landscape, then they are also part of the emotional landscape of the heart, so that it was no great wonder I suppose that I came to write my own short story “The Magic Salmon of the Laune”. The story, which was published in The Kingdom in 2009, tells of a little girl’s bond with her grandfather, and of their encounter with the magical, mythical Bradán Samhlaíochta, the Salmon of Imagining. The windows in my grandparents’ cottage may have been diminutive by today’s standards, but in many senses they were the windows of wonder, looking out as they did on the river all year long. The Laune would not have been the Laune without the splendour of the swans, the age-old music of their wings part of the pageantry of the place for generations. My grandmother sometimes spoke of the family walking up the strand to first Mass in Killorglin, the swans and the rhythmic beat of their wings fresh in her memory still. These were the familiar Mute swans, of course, but the river also plays host to Whooper swans in winter, their bugling calls wonderfully wild and emotive when they go past overhead. Known in Irish as An Eala Ghlórach, they are thought to have been the inspiration for the talking, singing swans in The Children of Lir. They are distinguished from the Mute swans not only by their yellow, black-tipped bills, but also by the more erect carriage of the neck. An old lady in Milltown had memories of coming to my grandparents’ house for tea in summertime, the high tide brimming on the stones below, the Mute swans like legends going by on the wing. It was like going to the seaside, she said, the Laune so beautiful it might have been a picture in a storybook. In those days too, a herd of Kerry cows, sleek, diminutive, graceful, came down to the river to drink on long hot summer days: their dark flanks like silk in the sun, the old house white as a fairytale resplendent above them, the neatly made rick of turf nearby. I still remember the grey, misty winter’s day many years ago, when I saw a bolt of electric blue sweep low over the water. This was my first encounter with a kingfisher, one of the most beautiful and iconic of all river birds: the orange-red under parts and mainly blue upper parts setting it apart at once. Old Victorian bird books refer to the kingfisher as the Halcyon, giving rise to “halcyon days”. The old sandstone cliffs that flank the estuary meanwhile welcome nesting sand martins in summer: the birds

birds easily identified in flight by their sandy brown upper parts and white under parts with a brown breast band. Sadly, their numbers have shown a dramatic decline in recent years. It is the loveliest thing to see a grey heron fishing in some long-legged pool on a summer’s day, its wings cleverly fanned to form an umbrella so that it can see any sudden quiver or flash of light in the water below. In recent years, the herons have been joined by their relatives, the little egrets, the latter’s dazzling white plumage and yellow feet making them a wonderful addition to the river. There are plenty of shelduck and mallards too, the former among the most stunning of all river fowl, celebrated as they are for their bottle-green head, orange chest band and blood red bill. Nor would the river be the same without the plaintive cries of the curlew, its familiar call heard far and away along the line of the estuary, and always taken as a token of impending rain. Lapwings too are part of the river scene in winter, their haunting “peewit” calls with a romance all of their own. A few years ago, a glossy ibis turned up in Callinafercy and was regularly seen on the estuary. Sometimes when I saw it there, I wondered what the fishermen of old, the fishermen of Pouldubh, would have made of it, but I like to think that they would have been glad of it too. Seen at a distance, the bird looked like a black curlew, but closer views revealed the iridescent sheen of its wings. My friend Frank Molloy of Abbeylands was the first to photograph it in Callinafercy, and it was only later that we discovered that the ibis was seen as the bringer of good fortune in Egyptian culture. The Laune also welcomes otters and seals and, if the old folk stories are to be believed, the occasional mermaid too.

Glossy Ibis seen on the estuary of the Laune a few years ago. Photograph courtesy of Frank Molloy.

The reeds along the river were used for generations in the thatching of houses; my grandfather John D., a thatcher as well as a fisherman, not only thatched houses in Callinafercy, but also much further afield. When I was young my uncle Donal still thatched the boathouse, the swallows nesting under the thatch and the sedge warblers calling in the reeds beyond. Nor can I forget the lovely sound of the church bell pealing over the river, the sound sometimes softened, sometimes enhanced depending on the level of the tide, but still with a magic all of its own.

The writer’s grandfather, the latter with two of his neighbours fishing for salmon in Pouldubh ca. 1920. Photograph courtesy of Ann Sullivan, Florida.

If the river and its environs are rich in wildlife, then the river has yielded other treasures too, among them the Laune Crozier which was found in the year 1867, and which is dated to the third quarter of the eleventh century. An article in the Journal of the Cork Historical and Archaeological Society, published in 1899, tells how in the summer of 1867 Denis O’Sullivan, a fisherman in the employment of Sir Maurice O’Connell, Lakeview, was fishing for salmon in the Laune from the lake to Beaufort Bridge. The summer had been dry and warm, so that the river was remarkably low and clear. The fisherman, spotting something that lay still at the bottom of one of the deepest pools, fished it out with his gaff. The crozier was soon brought to Dr. Moriarty, the Bishop of Kerry, who paid the bearer, the brother of the finder, the sum of £18 for it: O’Sullivan’s brother saying it was far and away the best salmon he had ever landed. Soon after the crozier was exhibited in London in the South Kensington Museum (now the Victoria and Albert). This was in the year 1868 but it was a further four years before it went on display in Dublin. It became part of the collection of the National Museum, Dublin in 1921. The magnificence of the crozier can be gauged from the fact that the metal fittings are made of silver, rather than the more typical copper alloy. It is thought that it may have originally belonged to Inisfallen or Aghadoe and, according to the experts, it serves to illustrate the wealth and craftsmanship available to the Eoghánacht Loch Léin, the rulers of the place at the time. A further illustration of this is the fact that all of the filigree panels on the crozier have a gold sheet backing, while the motif of the human head on the crook looks down on a central garnet, the latter set in gold wire that is beaded and plaited.

The two bridges on the Laune at Killorglin, the County Bridge and the Railway Bridge, were built in 1885. A postcard of the County Bridge from the 1960s shows two great swathes of Purple Loosestrife growing in the river, a vibrant splash of colour that can still be seen in parts today. Kingcups still flourish on the upper reaches of the strand in early summer, while meadows of Sea Aster, purple and yellow, appear later in the season. An Edwardian railway guide describes the magnificent viaduct at Killorglin “where we cross the Laune wending its way from the lakes to Dingle Bay”. It recommends the tourist to take note of the ruins of an old Knight’s Templar Castle “which serve to remind us of the town’s historic past”. The most famous pier on the Laune is that at Ballykissane. A newspaper report of the 1850s refers to the huge number of vessels that had cast anchor there. Many had come from Southern Europe with foodstuffs, while more had come from England with supplies for the Killarney Railway line. The arrival of the railways, however, meant a decline in water transport, a trend further encouraged by the formation of sandbanks in Castlemaine Harbour, which made entry into the estuary of the Laune much more difficult. Those who lost their lives off Ballykissane in April 1916 were the first casualties of the Rising. They were Donal Sheehan, Charles Monahan and Cornelius Keating, their courage and self-sacrifice cherished and honoured in various centenary ceremonies at the pier in 2016. If the river offered sustenance and livelihood in the form of fishing, then it also offered colour and excitement on the day of the regatta. A visitor to Callinafercy in the 1850s describes some of the locals running onto the riverbank and cheering their favourites in a boat race. A newspaper report from the turn of the last century meanwhile gives an account of a boat race between the fishermen of the Cliff, Callinafercy and Steelroe: the Callinafercy crew in a boat called The Blackbird, the men of Steelroe in The Laune Ranger. Interestingly, the race to Cloon was held very late in the year when the fishing season was well and truly over. Callinafercy Rowing Club has held its annual regatta off Ballykissane Pier since the early 1970s, the seine boat race very much the blueribbon event of the big day. Happily the rowing clubs at Killorglin and Callinafercy have gone from strength to strength in recent years, maintaining a tradition that goes back generations.

The river changes with the seasons. There are times in summer when it takes on the character of molten glass, gentle and viscous and soft. Then the brimming tide gluts a myriad of creeks and channels, the shifting green of the reeds dabbled here and there: the sun brushing the surface of the water with orange and flame and gold vermilion. It is a different story in winter, though, when the river, swollen with recent rains, sweeps and surges brown with flood: its progress so urgent, so insistent it is as if it can hardly wait to get to the sea. A recent environmental report spoke of “a world drowning in plastic”, the amount of plastic getting into our rivers and seas giving rise to great concern. The report had images, disturbing images, of a swan settling on her eggs, the latter resting on bits of plastic in the nest. Salmon catches have shown a marked decline in recent years, so that the draft net season now begins in mid-May and ends on July 31st. Apart from the negative impact of plastics, there are other forms of river pollution too, of course, which is why it behoves us all to play our part in respecting the river’s integrity, and keeping it clean into the future. Mar a deir an seanfhocal: “Ní neart go cur le chéile”.

Beautiful black cows Come to the river, Where legend and beauty and blessings abound. Above them the old house, White as a fairytale, Thatched with the reeds, Like the feathers of birds. The palace of poets, wordsmiths and dreamers, Shaping the world in story and song, Making their hauls in tides of imagining: Silver the fishes that run in the sun.

About the Author Patrick O’Sullivan has an Honours Degree in History and Latin from U.C.C. He was a winner at Writers Week in the late 1980s, while an extract from his work was featured on Higher Level Leaving Certificate Art in 2015. He has had a memoir “I heard the wild birds sing” and “A Country Diary” published by Anvil Books. His children’s book “A Girl and a Dolphin” was published by Wolfhound Press. He has contributed to various magazines over the years.

King Puck Lives Forever Conor Browne Seated on your lofty throne High above the slanted pew, Royal as any King yet known And quite Nobler than a few. You look upon a lively town Who drink with speed and measure, Where craic flows freely as the Laune To help ease this great endeavour. Crowds amble through your bustling ways Where old ghosts once strode, And talk about the bygone days When travellers filled your roads. I make my way to happy friends Where songs drift upon on the air, And when I’m old and near my end I will always find them there. From my glass dark porter flows I drink long and deep with pleasure, For Kings may come and Kings may go But King Puck lives forever.

About the Author Conor Browne is a member of the KFEST and Biddy’s Day committees. In 2015 he compiled “The Puck Poets” – a collection of poetry and song about and by the people of Killorglin and the surrounding townlands.

MÁIRÍN CREGAN – Author and Playwright. Dr. Fiona Brennan (This essay is dedicated to the memory of Seamus O Riain).

The invitation to participate in the Easter Rising Centenary Commemorative Programme of Events in 2016 met with an extraordinarily unprecedented nationwide response. The resultant momentum ensured the completion of adept and innovative projects, as well as the reinterpretation of less tangible, associated themes. The reappraisal of women’s active political involvement during the Rising, and its aftermath, is one of its most enduring legacies. One such female activist was Killorglinborn Máirín Cregan. Mary Ellen Cregan, (March 27th 1891- November 9th 1975), was the second of four daughters born to Ellen O’Shea, formerly of Langford Street, and Morgan Cregan, a stonemason who was originally from Newcastlewest, Co. Limerick. Máirín grew up in a household that espoused fervent support of the revivalist movement. Avid discussions regarding Irish culture, its influences, and dynamic organisations like the Gaelic League, inspired Cregan’s love of the Irish language. Determined to become a more proficient Irish speaker, she sought extra tutoring during her school holidays. On completing her second level education at the St. Louis Convent, Carrickmacross, she went on to teach at the Bridigine School, Co. Kilkenny between 1911 and 1914, at a time when no formal teacher training was required. A naturally-gifted musician and singer, Máirín moved to Dublin in 1914 to study at the Leinster School of Music and secured a teaching position at the St. Louis High School, Rathmines. By frequenting nationalist gatherings and various other events, she became close friends with members of a prominent nationalist family, the Ryans of Co. Wexford: sisters Min, Kit and Phyllisi and their brother James – the medical officer at the GPO during the Rising – whom Máirín would later marry. Attending céilidhe, plays at the Abbey Theatre and such like, she describes her “active association with the National Movement…before the Rising” and her singing performances at numerous fundraising concerts in venues across Dublin in her later statement to the Bureau of Military History.ii On Sunday nights Cregan and other young nationalists socialised at the Ryan’s home on Ranelagh Road, as well as the homes of senior activists including that of

Sean MacDiarmada, during which the young Kerry woman’s calm demeanour caught his attention. Her witness statement to the Military Bureau in 1950 details her involvement in Easter Week 1916. As instructed by MacDiarmada, she travelled by train to Tralee on Holy Thursday “with automatics and ammunition” hidden in a violin case. She also carried written instructions on how to operate the wireless technology that was to be used to make contact with the Aud, which was due to dock at Fenit Harbour and unload its cargo of ammunition and weapons.iii When Máirín had attended to everything in Tralee, and as instructed, she travelled home to Killorglin on Good Friday when she heard about the drowning tragedy at Ballykissane Pier. Three Irish Volunteers, the first fatalities of the Easter Rising, Con Keating, Daniel Sheehan and Charlie Monahan were drowned when the car they were in went off the pier.iv Arriving on the scene with her sister, Cregan assisted the sole survivor, the driver Tommy McInerney, and took him to a safe house.v She eventually managed to make the gruelling return journey to Dublin and, not unlike others involved in political activities, was duly dismissed from her teaching post, but eventually managed to secure a new position at Ballyshannon and later at Portstewart. Máirín married James Ryan in July 1919 and the couple moved to Wexford where Ryan had established a medical practice in 1917.vi Standing as a Sinn Féin candidate for Co. Wexford, he was elected to the First Dáil in January 1919. During the War of Independence the couple endured regular raids by British soldiers on their home. When James was arrested and interned at Spike Island between September 1920 and August 1921, Máirín remained a member of Cumann na mBan and a Sinn Féin activist. She was subsequently arrested and imprisoned for a brief time in February 1921, after which she went on the run. Opposed to the Treaty and interned by the Free State Government from 1922, James spent time at Mountjoy Jail, at the Curragh camps and in Tintown, where, on October 18th 1923, he went on hunger strike, which lasted for thirty-six days. He was re-elected as Sinn Féin T.D. for Wexford during his internment. After 1925, the Ryans moved to Co. Wicklow and settled at Kindlestown House, Delgany, where they raised their young children, Eoin, Nuala, and Seamus. James, a founder member of Fianna Fáil, went on to enjoy a prestigious political career and served as minister in a number of government departments, until his retirement in 1965. It was in Wicklow that Cregan began her writing. Her first children’s novel, Old John (1936), won her international acclaim, as did her second, Rathina (1942).vii Old John originated in the stories Cregan told her children who, “night after night” – as the book’s dedication clarifies – begged her to tell them “more about Old John”. The novel’s Co. Kerry folk influences are clearly identifiable as are additional European folktale motifs. The novel is based on the story of a shoemaker, Old John, who lives on the edge of a wood with a dog, a goat, and a little red hen. With the arrival of a white cat, Báinín, who is really a fairy doctor who has been transformed by Gruaga, a wicked dwarf, all types of adventures ensue. Eventually, the spell on Báinín is broken and, with the aid of a pair of magic boots, Gruaga is prevented from coming near the household. However, by now Báinín feels so at home with Old John that she joins the family permanently. Thus, the story concludes with Gruaga’s demise. Initially published in the USA, where it was particularly successful, it was subsequently translated into several languages. Each international edition includes a glossary to explain the Irish words and HibernoEnglish phrases. Although its 1938 Irish language edition, Sean Eoin, illustrated by Jack B. Yeats,viii became a more popular choice amongst Irish audiences, the English version was eventually approved as a story reader by the Department of Education. Published both in New York and London, her second novel, Rathina, illustrates the idyllic childhood of the Donovan family living in Rathina on the outskirts of Dublin. 21

Said to be loosely based on the family’s own home of Kindlestown House, the story’s central character is the eldest child, Eileen, whose obsession with horses finds her attempting, in secret, to train one. Written with an American audience in mind, the storyline illustrates a picturesque, unspoiled Ireland. The reader duly encounters charming aspects of a well-to-do Irish family’s life: high teas, a kindly, elderly nurse, fox hunts and such like. Curiously, these pastoral themes appear somewhat at odds with Cregan’s political leanings and, at some level, demonstrate a disregard for the realities of class division, child poverty and neglect in 1940s’ Ireland. Nonetheless, in 1943, Rathina won Cregan the prestigious Downey Award for the Best Children’s Fiction Book in the Catholic Tradition, although its religious categorisation is believed to have caused the author some concern. In 2015, I presented a lecture Kerry Women Playwrights: A Forgotten Literary Legacy as part of a series on Kerry’s forgotten women writers, which was hosted by the Kerry Women Writers’ Network.ix Introducing a prestigious group of four writers, including Cregan, I confirmed that she had actually been writing for theatre long before her success as a children’s author. The disregard for Cregan’s work as a dramatist is a significant misnomer when undertaking any analysis of her writing career, particularly considering her two-act play Hunger Strike, which is set during the Civil War. Cregan was one of at least four Kerry women dramatists whose playwriting espouses significant political themes. The first of those dramatists was the fervent nationalist and Redmondite, Lady Edith Gordon (1871-1945),x formerly of Árd na Sídhe, Caragh Lake. Although better known, perhaps, for her 1934 memoir, The Winds of Time, a decade previously she had been writing about the revolutionary period in her play, Troubled Times. She obviously had high hopes for its production and submitted it to the Abbey Theatre in 1924. Rejected by the Abbey directors, a copy of the playscript has not been discovered to date. The dramatic canon of the Caherciveen-born Abbey playwright Pauline Maguire (19201994) – one of the few female playwrights whose work was produced by the Abbey Theatre during the 1950s – deals with contentious themes of modernisation and industrialisation, land division, the work of the Land Commission and subsequent development of Irish agriculture. During the same period, Bridget Boland (1913-1988), daughter of the former M.P. for Kerry, John Pius Boland, enjoyed international fame as a screenwriter and playwright.xi Although born in London – and based there for most of her life – she declared: “Although I hold a British passport, I am in fact Irish, and the daughter of an Irish politician at that[,]…”.xii Boasting a substantial canon of work, Boland deals with a post-World War Two Britain and in so doing developed ambitious and exciting dramatic methods.xiii As well as these four Kerry women playwrights, there are a multitude of writers whose drama has been forgotten about, many of whom learned their craft by means of involvement in the amateur dramatic movement. xiv From the 1920s onwards, the nationwide advancement of amateur dramatic activity was crucial to social life as well as to the development of Irish theatre. Communities the length and breadth of the country were alive to the sounds of dramatic activity and with the eventual establishment of a significant number of competitive festivals throughout the country, which significantly increased dramatic ambitions. For example, the Kerry Drama Festival, founded by Josephine Albericci in Killarney in 1943, xv hosted formidable groups such as the Iveronian Players, Caherciveen (founded 1929), Killarney Players (founded 1939), and the Listowel Drama Group (founded 1944), and many others. The All-Ireland Drama Festival was subsequently founded in 1953.

Such was the importance of the amateur movement that on the publication of Cregan’s two-act play Hunger Strike in 1933,xvi an Irish Press reviewer predicted that amateur groups would be rushing to secure the performance rights. Surprisingly, no stage production has been identified to date, although it was produced for radio (2RN) in 1936. In November 2016, the Killorglin History and Folklore Society hosted the Máirín Cregan Remembered event to mark the 125th anniversary of her birth. xvii The programme included a rehearsed reading of Hunger Strike, which was performed by members of Dóchas Drama Group, Killarney.xviii (A special radio programme on Cregan was produced subsequently on Radio Kerry in 2017). Special guest of honour was Máirín and James’ youngest son, Séamus Ó Ríain, who had travelled with other family members to attend the event. An emotional night, Seamus spoke eloquently of his mother and recalled family holidays in Kerry. He duly acknowledged his delight and gratitude to the Society for hosting the event in her hometown. Speaking with me afterwards, he was overcome by the fact that his mother’s play had, at long last, been given due recognition.

Dr. Fiona Brennan (second from right) with members of the O Riain family, pictured at the Killorglin commemorative event November 2016. From left: Sarah Spain (nee Ni Riain), Seamus O Riain, Helen Ni Riain. Completed less than a decade after the end of the Civil War, and dedicated to her husband James, the two-act drama, Hunger Strike is a sharply crafted play that introduces themes such as the Catholic Church’s rejection of such hunger strikes as suicide. The play’s female protagonist is Nano Grady, whose husband Ned is in prison and, at the play’s opening, has been on hunger strike for twenty-five days. Despite much opposition from his relatives, Nano fully supports Ned’s actions and his belief in the cause, which he discusses in his letters to her: “…don’t allow any intercessions on my behalf…It is not hard to die, but it would be very hard to face the world after a situation of that kind. I feel confident that if you get an inkling of any such thing is likely to happen you will do your best to stop it.” The dramatic action elucidates the reality of the strikers’ lofty moral objectives and the dilemmas facing women like Nano. Cregan is acutely aware of the Catholic Church’s condemnation of these strikers’ actions as nothing more than suicide. As Ned writes: “The priests accuse us of suicide, the 23

doctors tell us we may die any minute, our hearts being weak, and they refuse now to treat us at all unless we take food first.” Ned’s Aunt Julia blames everything on Nano’s foolishness: “What put the “kybosh” on her [Nano] altogether was joining the Cumann na mBan.” Demanding that Nano write to Ned, encouraging him to give up the strike, Julia declares that, “He’ll think different when he has to face the Almighty.” She goads Nano by describing Ned’s deterioration, his ravings, and wild imaginings that Nano is having an affair, even before he dies. As Nano laments, “Nobody in the world can ever be half as cruel to you as your own relations.” Nano remains steadfast and knows Ned “…feels he is justified, and he knows that I feel the same [,]…If he’s a dying man he’ll be let [sic] in peace.” As the hunger strike reaches day forty-one she remains steadfast and, although distressed at the thoughts of their young children growing up without their father, she “…wants to see his dying made as easy as possible for him…because he has deliberately and desperately taken up this last weapon…even if it kills the two of us.” However, at the play’s denouement a telegram arrives with news that Ned and the men have triumphed and the strike is officially over. On its publication, Hunger Strike was lauded by numerous critics. In February 1933, the Kerryman newspaper recorded that the play “…embraced all the patriot suffering of Irish womanhood and that it is remarkably free of bitterness.” A Sunday Independent reviewer claimed “new ground is broken” and applauded Cregan who “has risen splendidly on this occasion.” The following month, the Derry Journal stated that Cregan had established herself as a pioneer amongst playwrights in placing due prominence on Irish women’s involvement in the struggle for Irish freedom.xix Cregan submitted the play to her publishers, MacMillan, in 1932, but its rejection by the Abbey Theatre in March 1931 confirms an earlier, albeit approximate completion date. Although she had already received the standard Abbey Theatre rejection notice, intriguingly, Lady Gregory, one of the theatre’s founders and directors, sought to justify the decision by writing to Cregan the following July. She explains how a play’s rejection is based on its potential lack of appeal; that a play “…has to find its immediate appeal – and to the whole audience.”xx In a society still fractured by atrocities inflicted upon communities during the Civil War, a production of Hunger Strike might have sparked religious and political controversy, which would explain the Abbey’s cautionary approach to any politically-themed plays submitted. In November 1933, Patrick Keohane of M.H. Gill & Son Publishers writes to Cregan and echoes similar sentiments regarding the play’s lack of production: “…it is too true…we are too close up to the realities as well, in every sense of the word.”xxi Yet the play did attract interest elsewhere. In August 1933, Paul Vincent Carroll, one of Ireland’s most prestigious writers at the time,xxii sought to option it for production, as did film-maker and playwright, Mary Manning.xxiii Writing to Cregan in September, Manning is very enthusiastic and gives assurances to produce the play much sooner than Carroll, who was, she said, much too busy with his own work. Giving a commitment to securing “…a first rate cast…”, interestingly, Manning sought the performance rights on behalf of the Irish Women Workers’ Union’s Dramatic Societyand explains her plans to enter the production in Dublin’s Father Mathew Feis. In a final letter, however, Manning expresses her disappointment at what seems to indicate Cregan’s final refusal. Published in the Capuchin Annual in 1940,xxiv Cregan’s one-act drama, Curlew’s Call, is based on the theme of emigration and set in the south west coast of Ireland during the 1920s. Mary Riordan is about to move to the States to live with her daughters Bridgie and Nora who are long settled there. Bridgie has come home to accompany her mother back to the States. Pregnant with her first child, Nora has remained in the States but has asked Bridgie that they bring back dilisk (a type of seaweed) to try and

quell her present cravings. Mary duly goes out on a neighbour’s boat to gather some and, while manoeuvring the boat into a difficult cove, a curlew’s screeching lament signals a warning. Tragedy strikes; the boat capsizes and Mary is drowned. The play concludes with Bridgie’s lament: “The very birds had to come down out of the sky to whip her out of my hands. What had they all against her?” The play’s message is clear: despite the new ways and lauded life in the States, humanity is still frail and remains at the mercy of the natural world. Cregan also submitted this play to the Abbey Theatre in 1939 and while evidence in the Abbey Theatre Collection indicates its consideration by the directors, unfortunately, the play was never produced. (see Abbey Theatre Minute Books, 1939).xxv Máirín Cregan’s papers were gifted to the National Library of Ireland by her daughter, the late Mrs. Nuala Colgan, in 2002, and the collection comprises editorial correspondence, various contracts and royalty statements, manuscripts, typescripts of her books, and various radio scripts including one for children, Seamus and the Robber. There are a number of typescripts of unpublished works for children, including the story, I am a Cake, which was rejected by both her UK and American publishers, but broadcast by BBC Radio. I was intrigued to discover an incomplete draft manuscript based on the life of one of the four Kerry poets, Eoin Rua Ó Súilleabháin. It identifies Cregan’s attempt to move away from realism per se. In the draft script, written specifically for television, Cregan indicates the need for “full orchestra flair” to facilitate the play’s movement and dance. Based in part on themes of folklore, its action varies significantly between reality and fantasy.xxvi In June 2018, K-Fest, Killorglin’s contemporary arts festival, scheduled a forum to discuss Ireland’s forgotten female writers. xxvii Reflecting on Kerry’s forgotten women playwrights, including Cregan, I suggested that, “Any dismissal of women’s writing serves only to skew records and avoids necessary discussion and research.” There is a multitude of forgotten histories deserving of recognition, and Máirín Cregan is just one of Kerry’s unsung heroes and heroines, whose position in Irish literature and contribution to Irish theatre history are deserving of recognition, discussion and indepth critical analysis. There is one particular letter in the Máirín Cregan Collection, written to the author in May 1936 in response to the 2RN radio production of Hunger Strike aired that same month. Its author is Tomás Ó Maoláin: “As one who participated in that forty-one days fast in Mountjoy Jail I can assure you that the dramatic atmosphere which you were so successful in creating was true to life and gave me a tremendous thrill. My father, who listened in with me and who went through all the torture of mind so well portrayed by Nano, was very much affected by the realism of the production.”xxviii Fittingly, and as part of its Decade of Centenaries’ Programme for 2021-2023, the Killorglin Archive Society is spearheading a production of Cregan’s play, Hunger Strike, which will premiere in November 2021, on the 130th anniversary of her birth. Cregan’s contribution to Irish theatre and literature will be celebrated with the play’s contemporary interpretation and vibrant production in the town of her birth.

ENDNOTES Min married Richard Mulcahy, (she was previously engaged to Sean Mac Diarmada), and was a founder member of Cumann na mBan, while Kit married Sean T. O’Kelly. 1

Bureau of Military History, 1913-1921. Statement by Witness. Document No. W.S. 416. Witness Mrs. James Ryan (Máirín Cregan). Statement dated July 1950. Accessed online. <https://www.bureauofmilitaryhistory.ie> 1

Ibid.

1They

were on their way to Caherciveen to seize the wireless station at Valentia Island to send a series of false signals and divert the Royal Navy’s attention away from the efforts to land the ship, the Aud, which was carrying weapons for the Irish Volunteers. 1Her

witness statement to the Military Bureau reads: “At about ten o’clock on Good Friday evening as I was preparing for bed, news spread through the town of Killorglin that a car had gone over Ballykissane Quay.” With her sister she made her way down to the pier and spoke to the only survivor, the driver Tommy McInerney. To avoid his arrest, Cregan assisted him by hiding his weapon and getting him “…to a house in Killorglin.” 1Following

the surrender of the Easter Rising revolutionaries, Ryan was imprisoned in Stafford Jail in England and subsequently at Frongoch, Wales. He was released in August 1916. Old John was published by The Macmillan Company, New York. Its Irish language version, Sean Eoin, was published in 1938. Rathina was published by The MacMillan Company, New York, 1942; Allen and Unwin, London, 1944. 1

Yeats’s Man on the Flying Horse, (1938), a pen, ink and watercolour illustration, was created especially for the publication. A handwritten note from Yeats to Cregan can be found in the Cregan Collection, NLI. 1

This lecture was delivered at Killarney Library, April 16th 2015 and subsequently at the Seanchaí Literary Centre, Listowel the following October. 1

Sinn Féin supporter all her adult life, Gordon discusses her nationalist tendencies in her biography The Winds of Time (published J. Murray, London, 1934). A member of the Munster Women’s Franchise League, which distributed aid and food to nationalist prisoners, she was a well-known landscape designer and Árd na Sídhe was one of her best loved restoration projects. In 1935, following her divorce, she moved to Lismore where she lived until her death in 1945. In her memoir, At My Mother’s Knee, published by The Bodley Head Ltd, London, 1978, Boland fondly recalls the summers spent with the family in Derrynane. An internationally-renowned screenwriter, her film adaptations include Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace and James Maxwell Anderson’s 1948 play, Anne of a Thousand Days, which won her an Academy Award for Best Screenplay in 1970. 1

Quoted Hayman, R. “Bridget Boland”. See K.A. Berney, Ed. Contemporary British Dramatists. Published by Gale Research Co., Detroit, 1994, pp.81-3. 1

For example, her 1948 play Cockpit is a remarkable site-specific play. Set during the Second World War, the action takes place in a grand 19th century theatre in a provincial German city and is being used by British troops as a temporary transit camp for refugees from across Europe. 1

Cregan, Maguire, Boland and Albericci have all been the subjects of Saturday Supplement Programmes broadcast on Radio Kerry: Cregan (Broadcast April 8th, 2017); Maguire (Broadcast September 3rd, 2017); Boland (Broadcast August 11th, 2018); Albericci (Broadcast 13 January 2018). See www.radiokerry.ie regarding the availability of podcasts. 1

Albericci was particularly interested in the concept of cultural tourism, which influenced her decision to found the drama festival. A talented director, in 1946 she was offered a position by Abbey Theatre Artistic Director, Ria Mooney, to assist at the Abbey School of Acting. Albericci went on to produce many plays for various companies including the Olympia and Gaiety Theatres. 1

Hunger Strike. Published by M.H. Gill, Dublin, 1933. All quotations are taken from this edition.

Máirín Cregan Remembered. C.Y.M.S. Hall, Killorglin. November 25th, 2016. The event was presented by the Killorglin History and Folklore Society. 1

This reading was originally performed during the Research of Amateur Performance and Private Theatricals’ Organisation (RAPPT), International Conference, which I coordinated in July 2016, and was hosted by the Dept. of Drama and Theatre Studies, University College Cork. 1

For all newspaper articles quoted from throughout this essay, please refer to the Máirín Cregan Manuscript Collection, National Library of Ireland (NLI): MS46797/1. 1

See MS50423/1(2), NLI, Dublin.

All letters quoted/referenced are held in the Máirín Cregan Manuscript Collection, MS 50423/1 and MS50423/2, NLI, Dublin. 1

Paul Vincent Carroll’s first play was produced by the Abbey Theatre in 1931.

A prolific playwright and novelist, one of her earliest plays, Youth's the Season?, was produced by the Gate Theatre. She was a staunch supporter of young Irish writers and one of only a few women filmmakers during Ireland’s two waves of silent film production. 1

1Curlew’s

Call. Capuchin Annual, 1940, pp. 177-187.

The Minute Books, (up to 1939), digitised collection, are available online: see https://www.nuigalway.ie/abbeytheatreminutebooks/ 1

See Máirín Cregan Collection, NLI, MS 46795/2-5.

1Dis-Miss:

2018. 1

An Exploration of Women Erased from Literary History. K-Fest, C.Y.M.S. Hall, June 2nd,

See Máirín Cregan Collection NLI, MS50423/1.

About the Author Dr. Fiona Brennan, Theatre Historian and Archivist, is author of George Fitzmaurice “Wild in His Own Way”: Biography of an Abbey Playwright with an introduction by Fintan O’Toole (Carysfort Press, 2005). She is editing a critical edition of Terence MacSwiney’s Collected Plays, forthcoming in 2021. Current research projects include the history of the Irish amateur dramatic movement. Fiona is a committee member of Killorglin Archive Society.

A Christmas Tale Noreen Ahern Introduction ‘A Christmas Tale’ is based on my memories of Christmas after my eldest sibling Bridie had gone to America aged sixteen; and the loneliness felt by our parents – particularly at Christmas. Despite their sadness, every effort was made to celebrate Christmas. This was surpassed nearly beyond words on Bridie’s first return five years later after her graduation as a nurse in Hartford, Connecticut. Two sisters and younger brother arrive home from college on the shortest day of the year To their house of simple contents fresh and clean and smell of new distemper paint, an earthy green. Holly branches cut two weeks ago to protect the berries from birds and cold hang today over picture of the Sacred Heart and rest on middle window’s sash The only seasonal symbol visible from the road. Red lemonade, rich fruit brack and bottled stout Tin of biscuits, from the U.S.A. the children thought amid the provisions in the cart that are brought home from the town on Christmas Eve The humble donkey still playing his essential part. Scooped out turnips holding the pound weight candles of red or white Their lights turning rooms into a strange unknown place Unrecognisable to a child At the edge of night. Trip to local post office in the dark Where like shepherds we huddled around the black receiver And waited with thumping hearts for the phone’s ring To hear her voice, the eldest one who left at age sixteen. No skype computer to help us picture her from head to toe as she fervently sought news from home. At the end each one felt we should have remembered to tell her more. Continued overleaf

The six cows called by name and patted on their expanding widths their large nostrils giving out a warm stream when they got their daily ration of boiling water mixed with bran to nourish them for the impending births. And in Nineteen Sixtysix the children danced beneath the morning sky with joyous hearts When we saw the bright chain of aeroplane smoke coming from afar and as welcome today as Bethlehem’s star. Our mother cried and our father turned to hide his tears. All six siblings under their roof again for the first time in the past five years. The annual turkey feast accompanied with the lingering smell of potatoes, onions and mixed herbs wafted through the house till night where even now it has the power to close the eyes and unite us under heaven’s light. Oh magical times they were despite scarcity and familiar difficulties remembered now in a world devoid of such simplicities.

About the Author. Noreen Ahern has always lived and worked in her native Caragh Lake. She retired some years ago from Primary School Teaching. Her love of writing poetry came to fruition in earnest since her retirement. As well as looking after her rescue pony Maggie and dog Molly, she gives some of her time as a volunteer driver with Killorglin Social Services and is delighted with the new friends she has made both at the centre in Killorglin and on her visits to homes. Her Gaelainn is very close to her heart and she has set up two Ciorcal Cainte in the midKerry area “chun an teanga a chur chun chinn i measc spóirt agus craic”. Ceann amháin i dtig tabhairne Ó Grádys agus ceann sa Red Fox Inn. Her three poetry collections published to date have raised many thousands of Euros for charities in Kerry.

‘ANYONE HERE FOR THERE?’ Thomas O’Sullivan A compendium of anecdotes and boyhood recollections of the Last Train from Farranfore to Valentia.

Rare photograph laying the line in 1884, including Denis O’Sullivan of Callinafercy … of the prominent railway family in Milltown. Saturday, January 30th, 1960. Some years ago I was invited to partake in a pub quiz, just to make up the numbers. I obliged, though not having anything like an ‘encyclopaedic’ mind of the facts and figures and the like. I was told, just sit there and enjoy the pint and make up the requisite four … ‘silent partner’, mar a déarfa. Fair enough! In the sixth round the question was asked … “To the nearest year when did the Last Train leave Killorglin Station?” … With that, I mobilized myself into action and interjected confidently … in tandem with the Angelus bell of the Church of St. James, Saturday night on the 30th of January 1960. A bad pint they assumed, nevertheless they accepted my answer as they tired of their guesswork. When the round’s results were checked and collated, that very answer received an extra point, and I was immediately inducted into the team as a valued participant. *The title of this essay comes from a train conductor on the GS&WR line. As all stations were in close

proximity on the downtrain … Molahiffe, Castlemaine … he would skip along the corridor shouting … anyone here for there !!! … I could well imagine on the uptrain that he might reverse his call to … anyone there for here !!!

Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky … on a trip all of 40 miles, about two hours duration through the most spectacular vistas and varied terrain of sea, mountain and bog in western Europe. This we’ll take on the Kerry Bogie, the J15, which was a specially designed railway engine to run on the Iveragh line of the Great Southern & Western Railway, the gateway to Iveragh. Farranfore dared to dream … a dream of 80 miles of steel and a hundred thousand wooden sleepers to the most westerly railhead, beginning in 1882 and fully realized in 1893. From here, we will re-enact this most wondrous journey down these tracks through the ‘halts’ and stations to the buffer-stop at Renard in Iveragh … the end of the world of trains. ‘I’m waiting for the slow train, the slow train to the sea.’ A traveller was known to remark at Farranfore … Molahiffe … first stop, place of the Great Fair, in fact the second biggest fair in Ireland in its day. On the night of the Last Train’s penultimate stop, the locals with great enthusiasm turned out with turf-torches ablaze, much to the conductor’s annoyance as they drifted perilously close to the Metro Vick’s diesel tanks which could have caused a major disaster on the night. Castlemaine, where Castle Magne once spanned the river Maine, divided the lands of Desmond and MacCarthy Mór and birthplace of one, Jack Duggan, the Wild Colonial Boy of Australia’s sunny shores. Of course no railway essay would be complete without the infamous ‘runaway train’ and this was realized in Castlemaine. The fool-proof signalling system failed and one of the carriages had broken loose in a shunting operation and proceeded from Farranfore, hurdling toward Castlemaine aided by a stiff easterly wind. As it approached Castlemaine, stationmaster Paddy Crowe risked jumping aboard the speeding carriage from the platform and manually applied the brakes as it was making for Rathpook station. Milltown Halt, a station noted for its fine floral displays. Into the west, past the Augustinian Abbey de Bello Loco of the ‘beautiful place’, coasting along the ‘meandersome’ Maine river under the Hills of Kilderry. The O’Connor-Conway brothers saw their opportunity to bring the turf home by rail one year. They had access to an empty goods carriage at Milltown as the family had been employed in the GS&W Railway and their mother Kathleen O’Connor was in fact the only female station mistress in the country and held that post with her daughter Philomena. Trains didn’t run on Sundays at this time so these fine strapping, hardy men that they were, pushed the rail cart along toward Killorglin and on to Caragh Lake. There they filled up their reek of seasoned turf and pushed it back home to Rathpook to their ‘home fires’, compliments of GS&W Railway. Killorglin looms ahead … the Fair of Puck carrying the dealers, drovers and jobbers rattling over the River Laune with its superstructure of girders known as ‘bow and string’ and speed restrictions all of 5 miles per hour. There is the story of an agitated gentleman who was running late, inquired of the Killorglin station porter about the speed of the train … ‘Sir, replied the porter Only last week a man from Cromane leaned out the window of the train to kiss his wife goodbye and sure ‘twas the station master at Milltown that got the kiss!’ When the demise of the railway was beginning to hit home, a deputation from Killorglin met with Todd Andrews, then Chairman of CIE, to plead their case with him. At these formidable buildings, a cool and collected Andrews listened intently and put a final nail in the coffin of the GS&W Railway by asking of them informally … ‘Well now gentlemen, by the way, how did ye travel up this morning?’ … they answered, ‘By car Minister ! … That’s it gentlemen, ye have yer answer !!!’.

Onwards, and still maintaining a westerly direction to traverse the boglands of mystical Caragh Lake, perhaps to disembark and stay the night or go fowling on the moors for woodcock and snipe. A story from Caragh Lake, a busy little station where the goods were loaded onto donkey and carts to deliver to the ‘big houses’ such as Árd na Sidhe, Ripley and the Caragh Great Southern Hotel. However, one morning there wasn’t a donkey to be seen around the station which bemused the officials around the Hotel. The linesmen then went to push one of the goods carriages from the sidings to attach to the end of the evening train. Having found it unusually weighty, they looked inside to find up to 15 donkeys and the ‘prime boys’ had a sticker on the side of the carriage which read … Mallow Racecourse. Dooks station and a short amble to its 9 Hole Links Golf Course, passing a plethora of railway crossings … Muingaphuca, Quaybawn, Curraheen and Gortnagree, names that roll off the tongue in tandem with the rhythm of our Steam Bogie. One day a countrywoman brought a live goose on board the train in a nice cosy wickerwork basket and a blanket atop to keep her warm. This was strictly forbidden by the authorities, but with great skill of the plámás, she made her case … ‘It is how she is like myself. She is pining for company. That is why I am bringing her to my sister’s place. She will have friends and be happy there!!!’. The railway attendant saw the human side of her story and let her stay on board. You are so far above and the sea so far below, it is like you’d be travelling the sky. And it has a kind of rhythm, a music all of its own. We passed woods and bogs and wild places, the birds singing and the rivers singing. It was when we came on to Caragh that the driver pulled the whistle and made it sound. It was magic but then it made me lonely again. It made me think of your going. A Glenbeigh man writing to his daughter in London. Glenbeigh up ahead and Rossbeigh by the sea, dusk falling, reflections on carriage windows alight with tilly-lamps and with Diarmaid and Gráinne cavorting on the Behy Hills. The train also played its part in the field of education. Two sisters cycled five miles to Glenbeigh Station, boarded the train to Milltown, past the patiently waiting stationmaster, walking up a mile to the Presentation Convent School, Milltown and made the return trip that evening. Tim Moroney of Reen, Killorglin told me that he walked the track of three miles and back to Milltown Monastery for one school term. Climbing the steep gradients of Mountain Stage, gathering speed toward the hill of Drung and the driver using all his skill applying the brakes to navigate the spectacular Gleesk Viaduct … crowning architectural glory of the GS&WR of eleven spans, 940 feet wide at a height of 70 feet lording over Loch na dTrí gCaol. A lady that travelled regularly via Mountain Stage to visit relatives told me that the train needed to gain speed and power to reach the steep incline near Drung Hill. As the wheels began to skid on the tracks, they actually had to disembark momentarily to pluck the dry bracken in order to stoke the fire of the wailing engine. Then into the jet-blackness of the mountainside, clickity-clack from six-eight to four-four time, reverberating inside the Tunnels cut out of the mountainside. One day a train driver stopped the train midway on the Viaduct to allow a tourist to take a photo which was absolutely forbidden by order of the authorities. That official was relieved of his post that very day for his act of charity. A glorious panorama, the Dingle Peninsula with its mountains silhouetted against the evening sky and Dingle Bay far below as at 10 miles an hour we crept along a narrow shelf cut into the mountainside … A travel writer’s account of his train ride at Mountain Stage.

Kells, next stop, had a story about a farm, adjacent to the railway, which had the customary ‘railway field’. A girl was playing there with her younger siblings, and in order to pacify her baby brother she placed him in between the sleepers. Later on that evening, on hearing the train whistle up from Cahersiveen, she rushed to collect the sleeping child to go home. High jinks by the children living near the railway included putting an old penny, ‘an pingin’, on the tracks to flatten it beyond recognition; and also another trick was rubbing soap on the track so that the train wheels would skid. ‘pingin’ the hen and her clutch, crushed under hiss and steel, from mint condition forged and defaced, legal tender or no ? But Nora will be the judge of that, trade her for a ‘gobstopper’ or a ‘thrupenny candy lump’ … a golden egg, and treble my chances on the Iron Horse. Onwards then to Cahersiveen, the ‘town that climbs the mountain’ past Carhan of the Liberator, who actually donated £20 toward the GS&WR … to reach land’s end at Renard, the most westerly railhead in Europe, the first train arriving there on September 12th, 1893. Renard … Land’s End overlooking Valentia Harbour had its brush with royalty when in August 1897, the Duke and Duchess of York travelled to Renard from Killarney and took the ferry to Valentia to visit the Knight of Kerry. In 1910, that Duke was to become King George V of England. A carriage was parked up at Renard one night when a big storm from the west propelled it all the way up to Cahersiveen Station much to everybody’s amazement. Work began on the GS&W on July 1st1882, built with a baronial guarantee meaning that the company didn’t have to provide the entire cost. The railway eventually replaced the Bianconi mode of transport, the side-saddle car. The contract given was to S.G. Frazer and progress was slow at first due to inclement weather. In 1885 the first 12 miles opened and the train with the driver named Dalton chugged proudly into Killorglin to loud cheers by townspeople amid local dignitaries. Mr. Faulkner was in charge when work commenced on the line from Glenbeigh to Valentia in 1888. These were the steepest gradients and most spectacular engineering works of any railway in Europe for its time, and there was a great need for skilled stonemasons and steel erectors. However, it was his great fortune that coincidentally there was a ready supply of labour. On that year the Valentia Slate Quarry closed, and it was said that 300 willing souls marched through Cahersiveen carrying a ‘black flag’ as a cry to the Board of Guardians that they would be willing to work on the line. He subsequently enlisted 1,300 skilled and unskilled men and 200 horses. The working day was from 7 am – 5 pm, and the pay was a half crown per day. The lake sheltered under the cloak of the hills, six miles long and around its coast are things of beauty … green mosses, dark broom and heather clad hills with rowan trees interspersed throughout. The mountains are glistening with silver threads, small streams that hurry to see themselves reflected on the sea … A Victorian writer smitten by the spectacular vistas of the train ride.

The comings and goings of thousands over 75 years was the more poignant for those who emigrated to far flung shores from Queenstown, Cork … sad partings at the platforms catching the last sight of the train as it disappeared out of sight on the horizon. Many never to return but to send money home for the next generation to leave … conveyor belt of emigration. There was a story told of a Tomáisín Connor from Shanahill in the parish of Keel who was in love with Maureen Griffin. When Maureen’s sisters went to America they sent over the fare so that she would join them as was the case. The customary American Wake ensued, and Maureen left for Queenstown. Tomáisín was devastated and broken hearted and was known to drown his sorrows much of the time in Boolteens. He had a few fields down at Roscullen Island, east of Inch which he tended lovingly… making ‘creabhars’ of hay to feed his few cattle. Roscullen was on the Maine estuary right across from Kilderry Hill. The Killorglin train would approach Kilderry wood like clockwork, clattering along heading for Milltown with a pall of smoke, steam-whistling as it went within earshot of Tomaisín. Of course he had it in for that train for taking his Maureen and to vent his frustration he’d run down, three-pronged pike in hand, throwing it spear-like toward Kilderry shouting … ‘anam an diabhal you dirty ould smokey hole, you left me without Maureen and by the way you’re going you won’t leave any of the women in the parish of Keel’. They’d take up a railway, but they’d never dream of taking up a road! Con Houlihan, Evening Press 1970s. I travelled to Wexford with my mother, Mary B. Kelly, a native of the ‘model county’ from Doonooney, Adamstown, Maigh Áirní of St. Abbán, when I was three years of age. We boarded the train at Milltown Halt and on the steam train, a J-15, in 1956 just before the changeover to diesel. I probably slept most of the time, but I distinctly remember stopping at Mallow station, going downtown and being fitted for a new pair of shoes. They were of the Start-Rite variety that had a perforated floral design stitched on the uppers, all to impress my Wexford cousins. The rest of the expedition I remember as being inundated with multiple stops, changes and delays … Limerick Junction, Waterford, New Ross and finally in the dead of night being picked up by my uncle Tom Kelly in his Ford Prefect at Wellington Bridge in Wexford and ushered to the homestead at Doonooney … stuff of great adventure.

Photo taken at the Last Train, January 30th, 1960 … Bro. Nicholas O’Sullivan, Philomena O’Connor, Michael Sugrue & his granddaughter Marie Sugrue.

Michael Sugrue of 85 years was at Milltown Station that Saturday night, 30th January 1960 and was also a passenger on the First Train from Milltown in 1887. Michael was the first passenger to whom a ticket was issued at Milltown Station when the line opened in 1887. This is his account given to Andreas Ó’ Geallachóir of Radio Éireann on the night of the Last Train. … ‘One hundred Monastery boys were given a half day for the occasion. We marched with our teachers, Brothers Brendan Costello, Alphonsus O’Connell and Malachai Mc Sweeney to the station and boarded the train about one in the afternoon. The stationmaster, a Mister Grace, dressed for the occasion in a frock coat and gold-braided cap, checked the doors for our safety and the Guard waved the green flag. The driver on the footplate sounded the whistle, steam blew furiously from the copper safety valves as the carriages pulled out from the station. A flurry of sheep scattered in all directions and the greatest thrill of all was when the train steamed over the majestic steel bridge before rattling across the points to Killorglin station. The monks treated us to the trip on the first train and we all returned home on foot. I’m now the only living member of the schoolboys who went on the train that day’. Michael also had the story from his backroom of memory … that as the train curled its way over the steep Mountain Stage all of 140 feet above the roaring waters of Dingle Bay, thinking that the train would topple over, the frightened passengers rushed to the other side of the carriage to keep it in balance. There was another man there on the night who was on the first train and his name was Bro. Nicholas O’Sullivan, a retired Presentation Brother from Milltown. He vividly remembered the excitement, the cheering crowds and the long line of donkeys and carts. He takes up the story … ‘I was brought by my father as a child from our home in Lissivane to see the first train. An elderly woman from the locality was also driven in a donkey and cart by her son to the station. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity that a horse could run that did not require hay or oats. They had just arrived as the majestic monster was pulling out of the platform. She was so overcome that she turned to her son and said take me home till I die. And true to her word she went to Heaven a week or so later’.

On the night in question I remember hearing that a ‘man from the wireless’ was on the train and recorded Dan ‘The Bandon’ O’ Shea, a local bard giving a rendition of ‘Oft in the Stilly Night’ as the train trundled into Milltown Halt … big news!!!. Mary Saunders of Ballydarrig also saw the first and the last train from her railway cottage at Ballydarrig near Mountain Stage. On the Saturday evening of January 30th, 1960, my father ‘Totty’ O’Sullivan, sensing that history was in the making, took all five of us on the train to Killorglin Station. The tickets were purchased at the station from Mrs. O’Connor and we boarded the train on that evening’s historic excursion to Killorglin. There we waited for what seemed like an eternity for the train to return from Valentia Harbour. My recollections were of a deep melancholy and a palpable grief that night on the train at Killorglin and Milltown stations. Souvenir hunters in hurried desperation started to unhook the handles, clasps and leather ties as the train approached its final stops with driver Con O’Connor and William Hogan at the helm. As we passed the rail crossings that night I got the sense of families such as the Knightlys, Hurleys and O’Connors, all ‘railway people’ standing at their respective crossings, hand in hand realizing what dictated diurnal rhythms and routines of breakfast and dinner times, the opening and closing of the gates with their livelihoods passing before their very eyes for the last time into that January night. The short blasts of the whistle, and the detonating of the ‘fog signals’, gave the night an eerie atmosphere echoing through the gloom and darkness. I heard from a Cahersiveen man that there was an ulterior motive in closing down the line. A report was cobbled together to downgrade the infrastructure, lines, gates, cottages and crossings to giving an impression that the whole GS&WR project wasn’t viable with vested interests in steel in connection to Lane Foundries Dublin. A rumour gathered momentum in the 1980s that a Scandinavian billionaire was buying up land around Farranfore and Molahiffe with the intention of rebuilding the rail line to Valentia … wishful thinking, in the hope of the railway returning. But presently, a greenway cycle track is being constructed from Glenbeigh to Cahersiveen that will give people today a flavour of what the passengers on the GS&W Railway experienced of yesteryear. A poignant article in the Journal of the Irish Railway Record Society written by a J.P. O’Dea recounts his experience on the last down-train and up-train on 30th of January 1960. On arriving at Farranfore on that cold January morning he was received by one of the attendants thus … ‘Stay in the warmth and travel in the Bogey Van, you might get a nap on the mail bags … it’s the best we can do’ … the essence of railway hospitality. In return J.P. was at hand to help the attendant with trans-ship goods and with the shunting, to be rewarded with the cupán tae and bread and butter sandwiches in the guard’s van. With subsequent bouts of drowsiness and waking up with the brakes being suddenly applied because of straying sheep on the track – with some rich invective issued by the driver – on the approach to Gleesk Viaduct he arrived at the Railway Hotel in Cahersiveen at 11.15am for some toast and more tea. Then, an about turn to board the train after a brief last visit to Renard and back up the line for the final time. Farranfore Funeral was daubed on the back of the brake van and somebody else wrote Farranfore Flyer on the front of the Metro Vick C 201. The obituary notice that was posted and stuck on the window of the Midland Great Wheeler Carriage No. 157M read … In memory of the late C.I.E. who died January 30th, 1960 between Farranfore and Valentia. Great-grandson of the old GS&WR who faithfully served South Kerry since September 12th, 1893.

Sporting life in Kerry was associated with the Ghost Train to Dublin on the eve of the many All Irelands … none other than the drawn game with Roscommon when Paddy Burke of Milltown played for Kerry and a jam-packed train headed for Croke Park. So three cheers for our forward, young Burke from Milltown. Penned the Ghost Train, as it came up from Iveragh in the darkness with candles lighting inside the windows giving it a spectral presence winding its way through the landscape. In fact a mascot in the form of a Puck goat was carried along on one such ‘ghost train’ to empower the Kerry team with the essence of ‘Lugh’. On one occasion on the ghost train from Cahersiveen, refreshment in the form of loose porter was prepared in an old drum that had a residue of petrol. No doubt the porter was imbibed on the trip and nobody suffered unduly or complained of a bad pint either. Hear the whistle whimper lonely O’er the dead leaves of the years, As the Ghost Train races Swiftly thro the night.

Sigerson Clifford

There were a few derailments down through the years, disasters being averted and thankfully no fatalities as the safety record on the line was second to none due to the state-of-the-art signalling system and also the professionalism of what were known as the milesmen who maintained the track and line. Each group consisting of a ganger and four workmen who had the responsibility for the upkeep of four and a half miles of track. They were known as the permanent way gangs. Commercial life of the train painted the picture of the drover, dealer and jobber at Puck Fair. Trains of all descriptions ran … Cattle and Goods, Cromane Mussels, Laune Salmon and priority given to the trains with fresh mackerel from Cahersiveen. There were the turf trains of wartime where the bogs were cut three times to heat the cities of Cork and Dublin via Chub O’Connor’s turf agency in Killorglin; Excursion Sea-Breeze Specials to Rossbeigh by the Sea and Army Trains to the artillery ranges in Glenbeigh. The train also figured prominently in the War of Independence and the Civil War and had a few Mail Train robberies ala Jesse and the James Gang, Kerry style! The old railway train is now past and gone, But in pleasant memories it still lingers on, And on gusty nights when clouds hang low, Its ghost still thunders as its whistle blows … The closing of the branch line of the railway created a cultural, social and commercial void in the Iveragh peninsula, the plaintive whistles and comforting rhythms of raw steel on track silenced, the vision of the men in black peaky caps standing on the footplates of the steam engines gone forever. They say that the Banshee follows the O’s and the Mac’s but on that night she gave her wistful cry for the Metro Vick. … like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death …

To this day, one can feel a fondness and an attachment toward the GS&W Railway. If only … If only ! you still hear resonating in the folk memory of Iveragh where now the cattle are free to roam and happily graze on the ‘long acre’ of the Iron Horse along what was known as … the permanent way. While walking along the Old Metal Bridge River Walk in Killorglin I sometimes get the sensation of that headwind of the Metro Vick on my face on its way from Stealroe. I make the calculation as to how many times it had traversed and occupied that very space in its lifetime of 75 years and now, I feel that it is quite entitled to own that space on the bridge-span over the River Laune. This completes this ‘compendium of anecdotes’ … though I’m sure volumes could fill shelves with stories and tales of this monumental engineering and iconic cultural and commercial phenomenon on the peninsula of Iveragh … I conclude with a fitting tribute penned by Denis Sugrue of Milltown.

The Lonely Bridge Long, long ago before the age of speed I set my pillars firmly on the ground, To carry to the land of Iveragh, the Farranfore-Valentia train Across the hills, past mountain, bog and cairn. Thrush, goldfinch, linnet, chorusing their overture to spring The symphony of birds in summer song Are memories of happy years between the rugged hills, As gaily swept the little train along. The billowed smoke ascending o’er the hills to form a crest, The iron wheels making music sweet to me. Now, silence reigns, the train has reached its journey’s end. The wild birds are my only company. The warbler’s notes are now a dirge, the trees droop mournfully, The robin’s song now a lament, My night descends, the sun shone so brightly long ago, Has set behind the hills … my day is spent.

Totty Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan and his son Michael at Killorglin station â&#x20AC;Ś Last Train.

My last-train ticket issued in Milltown, 30th January 1960.

Buiochas … Patrick O’Sullivan formerly of Coom, Letter, Cahersiveen who published the definitive two volumes … Farranfore to Valentia Harbour Railway/ Patrick V. O’Sullivan/J.P.O’Dea/Cois Leahmna/Denis Sugrue/Pa Houlihan and Roisín Looney. Quotations … T.S. Eliot, A.L.Tennyson.

About the Author Thomas O’Sullivan, Alohart, Beaufort, Killarney, Kerry. Multi-instrumentalist musician. 'Seacht slí na seachtaine' ... cultural maps and walking trails ... Milltown/Killorglin and Beaufort. 'Archaeorglan' ... ogham studies and permanent exhibition on Boyles in Langford Street re Farrantoreen stone. 'Four quadrant festivals' ... imbolc/bealtaine/lughnasa and samhain in Killorglin. 'Legends and lore of the MacGillicuddy Reeks ... Kerry Dreamtime' ... published 2019.

The First Day of Summer John Melia The first day of summer is a poem I wrote in 2009. Privileged to live in a home with a mature back garden within Killorglin, I quickly grew to appreciate the beauty of nature at our doorstep. Spending much of my time living in our back kitchen/living room, I found myself getting immense pleasure following the daily activities of the variety of inhabitants who seem to feel so at home amidst the grass, shrubs and trees that grow there. Blue skies provide a unique ceiling, Above the scorching sun is reeling. The freshness the morning radiates, Magnifies the summer it permeates. Dew on the grass seems out of place, All remnants of winter now but a trace. Wildlife is beginning to make itself felt, Natureâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s way of displaying all its wealth. Lustrous yellow buttercups lie in dispersed groups, Akin to an army colonising with squadrons of troops. Outflanked by daisies as white as a dove, The innocence and joy of friendship and love. Smaller insects in a trance like state, Soak up the nectar at a frantic rate, Butterflies display their colourful wings, Soaring eloquently as the church bell rings. Brilliant looking in orange and green, Bestowing a wondrous sight to be seen. A blackbird is basking in the heat, Using the stone border as her seat. A ladybird crawls out of flower pots, Red backed and adorned with black spots. Reflecting the sun with its shiny coat, Easily explaining why people dote. A black and white cat is on the lawn. She has been following its movement since dawn, Ensuring maximum heat from the sun, Her eyes on watch for creatures on the run. Continued on next page

Noble evergreen trees gaze down, I wonder sometimes do they frown, On those little creatures who are all at play, Since the early dawning of the day. At ten past ten two tall men appear, Suddenly all the animals run in fear. Their peace and quiet have been disrupted. By unaware humans who have interrupted. A beautiful moment comes to an end. Maybe next year we can make amend.

About the Author John Melia lives in a bungalow at the entrance to Iveragh Park in Killorglin. He is fifty-nine years of age and has lived in Killorglin for most of his life. John is married to Monica who is also from the town. He is very happy to be living in such a peaceful and beautiful part of the world; and is very aware of passing what we have here on to future generations in as unspoilt a condition as possible. It has inspired him to start to write down some of his feelings over the years on how our locality has nurtured him. He has also been an active member of Tidy Towns for a number of years and sees it as doing his bit to show his appreciation.

KILLORGLIN’S GREAT WAR SERVICEMEN Stephen Thompson This article is an excerpt from the author’s book “Killorglin’s Great War Servicemen” published in 2018. An online version of the book can be found on the Killorglin Archives Society’s website “killorglinarchives.com”. Killorglin, Co. Kerry, as with other communities throughout the length and breadth of the island of Ireland – both Nationalist and Unionist – made a very substantial contribution to the Allied Cause during the First World War. While the main element was the voluntary enlistment of men in the armed services, farmers and farm workers provided food for the fighting forces and fodder for the horses – which were required for transport and gun hauling. Also, women were engaged in gathering sphagnum moss for the treatment of wounds. This article focuses on the men from Killorglin Parish who served in the armed forces during the conflict. It is structured in three parts: Brief statistical treatment Biographical and service notes on three soldiers Excerpts from a diary kept by an officer on the front line in Africa

Plaque unveiled at Library Place, Killorglin on the centenary of the declaration of war.

Killorglin’s Recruitment – a Global Parish While the majority of “Killorglin” men enlisted in the British Armed Forces, a large number joined up in several other countries across the globe, reflecting the high level of emigration around the turn of the century – as can be seen in Table 1 below. At the time of writing, the author has identified 161 Killorglin men who served in the War, by using the following criteria: having been born in the parish, worked/lived in the parish, or lived in the parish after the War. This figure includes the 47 men who lost their lives during the conflict. Killorglin’s men saw active service on the Western Front (France and Belgium), in Gallipoli, the Balkans, Egypt, Palestine, Mesopotamia (modern-day Iraq), India, German East Africa (modern-day Tanzania) and at sea. Some served on the Home Fronts in Ireland, Britain, Canada and the United States. Table 1: Distribution of enlistment by country and/or service. Geographic Location

Great Britain and Ireland

Service / Force

Total

British Army

Royal Navy

Royal Flying Corps

Mercantile Marine

Sub-total

Australian Imperial Force

New Zealand Expeditionary Force

South African Army

Sub-total

161

Canadian Expeditionary British Force Commonwealth Indian Army

United States Army United States United States Navy of America Sub-total Total

Fatalities

Table 2: Distribution of enlistment within the British Army Regiments Nationality Regiments

Irish

British

Regiment

Total

Fatalities

Royal Munster Fusiliers

Irish Guards

Prince of Wales Leinster Regiment

Royal Irish Regiment

Royal Dublin Fusiliers

Royal Irish Fusiliers

Sub-total

11British Regiments

Sub-total

Total

Table 3: Theatre of Fatal Action and Nationality of Regiment / Service Theatre

Total

Nationality of Regiment / Service Irish

British

Aust.

Can.

Western Front

Gallipoli

Naval

Africa

USA 2

Indian

Bands of Brothers Four Killorglin families each sent three sons to the War: Dodd, Joseph Francis *

Duffy, Hugh

Dodd, John O’Connell

Duffy, Michael

Dodd, Walter de Courcy

Duffy, Patrick

Doyle. Denis

Flynn, James

Doyle. Martin

Flynn, John

Doyle, Patrick

Flynn, Patrick

Pairs of Brothers Butler, Maurice F

O’Reilly, Michael

Butler, William

O’Reilly, James Francis

Clifford, Daniel

Reilly, Patrick

Clifford, Timothy

Reilly, Peter

Dillon, Edward

Sheather, Charles Thomas DSM

Dillon, Jeremiah

Sheather, Walter Henry

Myles Johnston

Warner, Henry

Phillip Johnston

Warner, William Carter

*Note: Fatalities in red

The Dillon Brothers: A Special Note Edward and Jeremiah Dillon, from Rangue in Killorglin, Privates in the Australian Imperial Force (AIF), were killed side-by-side on 15th August 1916 at Pozieres during the Battle of the Somme. The very sad circumstances of their deaths were described in an AIF witness statement: “Edward was wounded by a shrapnel bullet immediately on climbing out of his trench and his brother Jeremiah went out to bring him in, when a shell exploded and killed both of them”.

BIOGRAPHICAL AND SERVICE NOTES ON THREE SOLDIERS PATRICK GUIHAN Patrick, born 10th February 1880, was the eldest son of Bartholomew and Johanna Guihan, of Meanus, Killorglin. He emigrated to New Zealand in 1910, where he worked as a teamster on a sheep station near Canterbury, South Island. In February 1917 he enlisted in the New Zealand Expeditionary Force. Rank: Private. Service No.: 51158. Patrick embarked for the Front with 26th Reinforcements F Company on 09th June 1917 from Wellington, New Zealand on board the ‘Willochra’ bound for Devonport, England. He was transferred to the Western Front in September 1917, and was attached to the No. 2 N.Z. Light Trench Mortar Battery, 2nd Battalion, Canterbury Regiment, N.Z.E.F. He was killed in action on Sunday, 21st July 1918, during the Allied advance in the Bapaume / Rossignol Wood area, near Arras on the Somme. His headstone is located in Gommecourt Wood New Cemetery, Foncquevillers. Patrick Guihan was an uncle of the late Timothy (Chub) O’Connor TD. 99 years later, in 2017, his grandniece Rita Thompson (O’Connor) placed a stone from the Guihan homestead on Patrick’s headstone (Note the New Zealand phonetic version of his surname).

Extract from Field Service Report for Patrick Geehan 51158 NZEF Personnel File for Patrick Geehan, 1917 [AABK 18805 W5539/14 0043897]. Archives New Zealand Te Rua Mahara o te KÄ wanatanga. https:/www.archway.archives.govt.nz/ViewFullItem.do?code=16785370&digital=yesLicensed under CC by 3.0.

Killorglin, in Co. Kerry, is famous for its traditional Puck Fair held on August 10-12 every year. A wild mountain goat (Puck) is crowned King of the Fair and placed atop a high stand in the centre of town. A statue of a goat stands proudly at the entrance to the town. By coincidence, a statue of a tahr (a goat-like mammal) has been erected at Lake Pukaki, close to where Patrick Geehan worked before enlisting.

King Puck statue, Killorglin

Tahr statue Lake Pukaki

Courtesy of MGK Photography,

Courtesy of Ms Claire Lanyon

Killorglin

JOHN (JACK) GALVIN The author wishes to thank James Galvin (nephew) and Micheal Sugrue for the information in this note.

John (Jack) Galvin’s Great War Medals Name: John (Jack) Galvin Date / Place of Birth: 22nd April 1894 at Garrahadoo, Killorglin Parents: Patrick and Catherine Galvin (nee Costello) Service: 1st Battalion Irish Guards and Royal Engineers Rank: Private Jack signed up to join the British Army on 11th February 1913, in Killorglin. It was still peacetime and eighteen months before the start of World War One, or the Great War as it was also known at the time. He had worked as a labourer for a local farmer, Florence Doherty of Ardmoniel, Killorglin. Jack had signed up for ‘short service’ which was three years with the Regiment (Colours) followed by nine years in the Reserves. Although the Recruiting Officers were from the Royal Munster Fusiliers, Jack signed up for the Irish Guards as a Private with the Regimental number 4367. He travelled to England in February 1913 for training at the centre in Caterham, Surrey, from which he was posted to his battalion, 1st Battalion Irish Guards at Wellington Barracks, London.

World War 1 started on 28th July 1914, when Austria – Hungary invaded Serbia. On 3rd August 1914 Germany invaded Belgium. Next day, Britain declared war on Germany in defence of Belgium and the Irish Guards received orders to mobilise for war. On 12th August 1914 they departed Southampton and next day arrived in Le Havre, France. On 14th August 1914 they were entrained at Le Havre and travelled north to the Front. Jack’s Casualty Form shows that he suffered bayonet wounds to his thigh, hip and side in the Battle of the Marne, just a few weeks after arriving in France. He also received a gunshot wound to the chest in action at Givenchy in the Battle of Neuve Chapelle, on 12th March 1915, and was admitted to station hospital. Jack was returned to Britain and admitted, on 3rd April 1915, to the 2nd Northern General Hospital in Leeds, Yorks. He was formally discharged from the Irish Guards on 16th June 1915, as he was considered medically unfit for war service. He had served 2 years and 126 days in the Irish Guards. There is little apart from the foregoing in Jack’s file to indicate where he was on any particular date or the conditions he experienced. However, most of that time was spent in the trenches of Northern France until injury forced his return to Britain. The experiences of the Irish Guards in WW1 have been expertly documented by Rudyard Kipling, the author and poet, in his book ‘The Irish Guards in the Great War’. Indications would suggest that Jack returned to Killorglin about 20th June 1915 to recover from his injuries. A report in The Kerryman newspaper, dated 15th April 1916, tells of Jack’s involvement in the rescue from drowning of two girls at Farrantoreen Lake, Killorglin on the 9th April. He was awarded a Bronze Medal by the Royal Humane Society for his bravery. Under conscription regulations introduced by the British Government in 1916, Jack, although having been previously discharged as medically unfit, was deemed fit on reexamination for other forms of work to help the war effort. From summer 1916 to February 1917 he worked in the munitions factory at East Riggs, Scotland. On 27th February 1917 he was recalled to the army and considered fit for service abroad but not for fighting in the battlefield. He was assigned to the Royal Engineers, Road Construction Company and arrived in Le Havre, France on 17th March 1917, St. Patrick’s Day. No information is presently available about Jack’s deployment in France. The Royal Engineers’ records were lost or are in very poor condition due to fire / water damage following bombing of the War Office’s Record Store in London in September 1940. On 9th August 1918 Jack was hospitalised having suffered a gunshot wound to his left arm while not on duty. He was transferred, on 23rd August 1918, to Fulham Military Hospital, London. It is unclear how long he was a patient in the hospital. Jack was formally discharged from the Army on 22nd November 1918, and is believed to have returned to his family home in Killorglin in time for Christmas 1918. He was awarded three British Campaign Medals, namely the 1914 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal. His respite from war was short lived as the Irish War of Independence began in January 1919. Jack is reported to have been an early recruit and held the rank of Captain.

Jack died on 30th September 1922 during the Irish Civil War. He had been taken prisoner by Free State forces in Killorglin during a Republican attack, on 28th September 1922, on the military outposts in the town. A column escorting the Republican prisoners from Killorglin to Tralee stopped at Ballyseedy, where Jack’s captors took him aside and shot him several times. His body was found next day, on 30th September 1922, inside the graveyard wall close to Ballyseedy Cross. The official version of this event was that the escorting troops were attacked by Republicans and that he was killed in the ensuing firefight. Jack is buried in the Galvin family grave at Dromavalla, Killorglin.

JOHN O’CONNELL DODD The author wishes to thank Billy Dodd (nephew) and Graham McKechnie (BBC Radio Northampton) for the information in this Note.

Dr. William and Ellen Dodd lived in Ballymacprior House, Killorglin, where they raised a family of eighteen children. Three of their sons, all officers, enlisted and lost their lives in the War. 2nd Lt. Francis Joseph Dodd, 7th Battn. Royal Dublin Fusiliers. Died in October 1918 as a result of gas poisoning. Lt. John O’Connell Dodd, 2nd Battn. Royal Munster Fusiliers. Killed in Action November 1918. Lt. Walter de Courcy Dodd, 11th Squadron, Royal Flying Corps. Killed in Action October 1917.

"Lieutenant J O'C Dodd...Late Capt. London Irish Football Club." Of all the words that John Dodd's grieving mother could have selected to have on her son's headstone, these are the ones she chose. This is how she wanted him to be remembered. It is unique and it is extraordinary. If you walk around the cemeteries of the Western Front you will see thousands of different phrases of grief and memorial to the men who fell. Some call upon God to look after the fallen soldier. Some choose to remind the world that he was a cherished father, son or brother. And some are achingly painful: simple yet heart-rending expressions of loss. But for the Dodd family, they wanted John to be remembered for captaining this special rugby club. His captaincy of the Exiles was, for his family then – and it remains today – the central feature of his all-too-brief life. It defined who he was. John O’Connell Dodd was a member of London Irish for almost all of his adult life. He was born in Kerry in August 1883, the son of a Killorglin doctor and one of eighteen children. He moved to London as a young man, finding work as a clerk in a legal office. Like many other young Irishmen (and two of his brothers), the newly-formed London Irish RFC became the centre of his social and sporting life. Early club records are sketchy, but Dodd, who played as a forward, appears in a second team photo as early as 1904, as a 21-year-old. Four years later he was playing regularly for the 1st XV and by 1910 he was the club captain. For rugby players in 1914 it was an instinctive duty to join up and to fight and serve alongside their own. Dodd returned to Killorglin to join the 8th Battalion, the Royal Munster Fusiliers (largely drawn from Kerry men). He enlisted as a sergeant but was soon promoted, receiving his commission in June 1915. Six months later the battalion of young Irish volunteers headed to the Western Front. John Dodd’s first few months in France were spent on the monotonous yet dangerous routine of going in and out of the line around Loos. He wrote to his brother Maurice that, “during the time I was there we had no fighting whatsoever. Nothing on a large scale came off and we were not fortunate enough to be on the spot where any of the small fights took place”. In May 1916, while burying a fellow officer, Dodd himself was hit – wounded in the left shoulder, as he says, by “a bit of shrapnel...which left rather a big hole”. He was shipped back to England, to hospital in Winchester, before going home to Ireland to recover (and to write letters to his commanding officer, begging to be allowed to return to his battalion). Dodd was given his wish and rejoined the fray later in 1916, but it wasn’t the Western Front for him. Instead he was posted to the 6th Battalion and headed out to Palestine to fight under Lord Allenby. He spent a year in the Middle East – at Christmas 1917 he wrote to Maurice once more, “We are having a good time here now hunting the Turks. We were indirectly concerned in the fall of Jerusalem yesterday as we were doing an attack on the flank of it”. Dodd returned to the Western Front in early 1918, initially training American soldiers who had recently joined the War, before joining the 2nd Battalion, the Royal Munster Fusiliers.

The final weeks of the First World War were as bloody as any which had preceded it. The German Army was beginning to collapse, but warfare had become much more open as the Allies were in pursuit of their prey further and further east. There was talk of an armistice, but the fighting continued. On 7th November Dodd and his men came under shell-fire. In the stark words of the battalion war diary, “At 07.00 Lt. Dodd, commanding B Company, was killed whilst transferring his men to trenches from billets owing to the increased shelling”. Four days later the War was over. The men of the battalion were devastated to lose Dodd. He was loved by his soldiers. Letters home to the Dodd family tell of how the locals promised to tend to the grave of this “fervent Catholic and loyal Irishman” in peacetime. Captain Livingston was with Dodd when he was killed and wrote back to his mother: “I have myself lost a brother and many good friends, but nothing has affected me so much as the death of your gallant son. He had come through so much that we never thought he would be killed. His honest, kind-hearted, unselfish character, you know better than I. On the night before his death, although himself worn out with four nights and three days of marching and fighting he insisted on doing my job because he thought I was more exhausted than he. Ireland can ill afford to lose such a man."

London Irish RFC 1910. John O’Connell Dodd Captain (with ball)

WRITING FROM THE FRONTLINE POWER, RAPHAEL JOSEPH The author wishes to thank Raphael Joseph Powerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s family for permission to use excerpts from the diary. Raphael Joseph Power kept a diary during his command of a platoon in an Indian regiment in German East Africa. The diary was returned to his parents following his death in action. Brief biographical notes and selected pages of the diary are shown below.

Raphael Joseph Power was educated at Ampleforth College, Yorkshire, from where he was commissioned as Second Lieutenant in the 46th and then the 33rd Punjabi Regiments in the Indian Army. He left England in 1915 and was initially based in Quetta (modern day Pakistan). Following a stint in Aden, his regiment was transferred to German East Africa in early May 1917 where they took part in the campaign against the German General Von Lettow-Vorbeck. While there, he kept a diary that graphically described the struggles of the military effort in a very unhealthy climate. He was killed in action at Narangombe on 19th July 1917, aged 20. He was buried in Dar Es Salaam War Cemetery in Tanzania.

About the Author Stephen Thompson was born in London and moved to Co. Cork when young. He was educated at Crosshaven National School and Bandon Grammar School. He studied chemistry and chemical engineering at the Sharman Crawford Technical Institute, Cork (precursor of the Cork Institute of Technology), and at the University of Aston in Birmingham. His career was as a chemist in both the polymer and pharmaceutical industries. Stephen married Rita (Chub) O’Connor and moved to her hometown of Killorglin – thus qualifying for “blow-in” status! A member of Killorglin Archive Society since 2012, Stephen’s main reading interest is history in general, and the First World War in particular. He has conducted extensive research about the men from Killorglin Parish who enlisted in the Allied Forces during the Great War, culminating in the publication of a book “Killorglin’s Great War Servicemen” in 2018 – copies of which were donated to local secondary schools and libraries. He has also contributed articles to the Royal Munster Fusiliers Association Journal The Bengal Tiger and the Western Front Association (Irish Branch) online journal Distant Thunder.

The Circus

Patrick ‘Pa’ Houlihan The golden days of the horse-drawn circus in Ireland were between the two World Wars 1918-1939. Easter Monday each year was the start of the seven-month touring season. For weeks beforehand every shop window in town, every hoarding and vacant shed had proclaimed its coming. Long multicoloured posters, flamboyant in design and wording, revealed that the cream of five continents had been engaged to provide an ‘unsurpassed, unrivalled, colossal, breathtaking daredevil show’. There would be bareback riders, tightrope walkers, trapeze artists, jugglers, sword-swallowers and strong men. And of course clowns, clowns, clowns – they were always billed like that as you could never have too much of a good thing. The very names of those wonderful people conjured up strange romantic places from over the hills and far away. Came the great day. For once we boys had not to be roused from our beds. We were up at cockcrow and out on the approach road watching and waiting. Then there was a shout as the first caravans and wagons came into view, each drawn by three piebald horses, while others ran freely behind. This was heaven itself approaching on creaking wheels – a moving feast of entertainment. With polished brasses and their neat curtained windows winking in the morning sun, the circus caravans moved into the Fair Field, their brightly painted and artistic sides holding promise of great things to come. Then began the work of a new day. Grooms unharnessed the horses and clouds of steam rose from their bodies after the lively twelve-mile trek. Tent men unfolded and spread the canvas, stakes were driven into the firm ground, the king-pole strode against the sky, and the big top soon rose in all its billowing glory. One moment there was a vacant field, the next a village had arisen almost in the twinkling of an eye. Wide-eyed we watched the jigsaw take shape as a small forest of timber poles, each fitted with an iron spike, were pushed under the canvas and the tiers of seating were erected. The women folk were busy about their duties – for even the gods it seemed must hang out washing. Late midday brought the procession – a pleasant and colourful feature of the old-time circus. With a broadside of brass, the uniformed musicians played the traditional tunes of the sawdust ring, leading the parade. Clowns and stilt-walkers competed for attention. Ladies, all sequins and plumes astride their steeds, passed by. Cowboys, straps and spurs well-polished, kept a tight rein as they waltzed past a back-firing Model-T. There were Shetland ponies with bouncing monkeys on their backs, giant elephants and such a sequence of delights that not even the meanest parent would deny the matinee money to the children. Onto the show itself. The ten-piece silver band opened the programme with a rousing overture, the well-known tune called ‘Entry of the Gladiators’ or perhaps the ‘Posthorn Gallop’. Then the endless cracking of the Ringmaster’s whip, the waltzing ponies, the beautiful young lady on the trapeze, the pranks of the clowns, the horse that could count, the acrobatics on the horizontal bars, the contortionist and a host of other delights. We agreed that the posters had understated the programme. Now that memory takes a hand, it is plain they did. For the evening show the naphtha flares were lighted while townspeople and their countryfolk cycled from the four corners of the parish, strode to the ticket wagon and entered the Big Top, that temple of eternal joy. Next morning only a trampled ring on the green was left to tell that romance had been here.

The golden days of the horse drawn circus have long passed. Only the wonderful memories remain for old time fans.

About the Author The late Patrick ‘Pa’ Houlihan was a very well-known local historian. He served as Killorglin correspondent for “The Kingdom” newspaper for twelve years, and also contributed to several local history journals. In 1997 he published his best-selling book “Cast a Laune shadow – Reminiscences of Life in Killorglin”. As well as a lifelong involvement with Puck Fair, Pa was also historian with the Irish Circus Fans’ Association. He ran a small museum from his home featuring exhibits, photographs and memorabilia of old Killorglin, Puck Fair and the Irish circus tradition.

Ceárd Scoil – Chill Orglan Killorglin Technical School/Community College: A History 1930 – 2005

Austin O’Reilly, B.Comm., H.Dip.Ed. The passing of the Vocational Act of 1930 marked a new era in education. In that year Mr David Quinlan was appointed Chief Executive Officer (C.E.O.) under the newly formed Kerry Vocational Education Committee (K.V.E.C.). Technical Schools were to be established throughout the country. By 1938 there were sixty-four such schools throughout the country. County Kerry, under its new Committee and C.E.O., was among the first to become beneficiaries of Vocational Education classes. Under the Act these new Technical Schools were intended in the first place for young people who had completed their course at primary school and attained the age of 14 and did not wish to pursue purely academic education. In the second place these schools were intended for adults who would attend evening classes where they would receive special instructions which became known as Adult Education Classes or Night Classes. As well as hobby-type classes there were others of a more serious nature such as the Social Science Diploma which was delivered in conjunction with the Adult Education Department of University College Cork. Technical schools were to be co-educational and non-denominational schools catering for boys and girls. EXPLORATORY VISIT TO THE CARNEGIE LIBRARY At a meeting of the County Kerry Vocational Education Committee held on Thursday, 12th February 1931 at the Courthouse, Tralee, the members of Kerry V.E.C. discussed an item placed on the agenda by its new C.E.O., Mr. Quinlan, pertaining to the provision of accommodation and equipment for classes in the major centres of County Kerry, among which was Killorglin. These were centres which at the time did not have the benefit of Technical or Continuation subjects. The V.E.C. members agreed to provide the necessary accommodation and equipment. Mr Quinlan, C.E.O., visited Killorglin and had discussions with the local committee of the Carnegie Library and with Mr. John (Jacko) O’Dwyer, Headmaster of the Intermediate Secondary School which was based in the library. Following these discussions Mr Quinlan’s recommendations to Kerry V.E.C. were: • • • •

To use one room downstairs and 2 rooms upstairs in the Carnegie Library To take the rooms on a yearly tenancy That the Committee agree to partition some rooms That the existing toilet facilities be made available for the students who attend the Vocational Committee’s classes in the Carnegie Library

FIRST APPOINTMENTS First Headmaster. The V.E.C. then advertised a permanent whole-time teaching position in Irish and general subjects. There were 32 applicants. In 1931 Mr Maurice (Mossie) Roche, B.A., H. Dip. Ed., was the successful applicant and was appointed on an annual salary of £120, plus a cost-of-living bonus, and travelling expenses when compelled to travel on the Committee’s business. Mr Roche not alone became the first

teacher of vocational education in Killorglin but also the first Headmaster of the school, a position he held from 1931 until 1975. He started and taught the first classes in the Mill in Lower Bridge Street in Irish and general subjects. New Teachers. In September 1931 Mr Denis Kidney was appointed Manual Instructor and Miss Kathleen O’Neill (wife of Tod Mulvihill of Mulvihill’s Pharmacy) was appointed Domestic Economy Instructress. Vocational Classes were then moved from the Mill to the Carnegie Library and there they remained until June 1933. First Enrolment. The school, in accordance with the Vocational Act, offered both Day and Evening Classes to the community. The first enrolments included: § DAY CLASSES: 18 boys and 27 girls (45) § EVENING CLASSES: 50 gentlemen and 62 ladies LOCAL SUBCOMMITTEE On the November 1931 County Kerry V.E.C. decided to set up a local sub-committee in Killorglin. Appointees were: • Rev. W. Keane P.P. Killorglin • Miss U. McColum, Principal, Girls National School, Killorglin • Mr M. O’Donoghue, Principal, Boys National School, Killorglin • Mr Gerard Foley, farmer • Mr D. Dwyer and • Mr John (Jacko) O’Dwyer, Principal, Intermediate Secondary School 19th

At a Kerry V.E.C. meeting held in the Courthouse, Killorglin on the 12th July 1932, the C.E.O. Mr Quinlan read a letter from the Killorglin sub-committee which requested: 1. The establishing of Agricultural and Horticultural classes in Killorglin 2. The purchase of a site for a new Technical School in Killorglin 3. Floorcoverings for the upper rooms in the Carnegie Library to minimise noise from footfall on the bare wooden floors 4. The appointment of Mr. Michael Doyle as caretaker for a salary of £1.00 per week NEW TECHNICAL SCHOOL The committee agreed to purchase a site on Langford Street for the building of a new Technical School from Mr. W. (Billo) O’Brien (Grandfather of Dr. Donal Mangan, B.Eng.) for the sum of £150.00. The new school was designed by Mr. J. Boyd-Barrett, Architect, in co-operation with Mr John Gallivan of Killarney. It was to be a threeroomed school but, on appeal to the Department, a four-roomed school was sanctioned and designed. Iveragh Road. In 1933 the Technical School classes were moved from the Carnegie Library to a property on the Iveragh road rented from Mr. Daniel Lyons for the weekly rent of 35/- (£1.15s). Vocational School classes remained in Iveragh Road until the new Technical School was built in 1936. The contract for building the new Technical School was awarded on tender to my uncle, Edward (Eddie) O’Sullivan for the price of £3,000. New Staff and Changes. In the 1930s the school programme consisted of Domestic Science, Woodwork, Rural Science and general subjects. The first Rural Science Teacher was Mr James A. Mangan who was replaced by Mr John (Sean) Callanan, B.Ag.Sc. in 1940. In 1949 a Commercial Course was added to the school programme. In the same year Mr. David Quinlan retired and was succeeded by Mr Seamus McDwyer, B.Ag.Sc. who became the second Chief Executive Officer to County Kerry V.E.C. In 1951 Miss

Catherine O’Shea was appointed teacher of commercial subjects. This appointment introduced subjects such as Shorthand (Gregg), Typewriting, Book-keeping and Commerce to the school programme. Girls with qualifications in these subjects now had a wide range of career choices in business available to them. In October 1953 Mrs. Ann O’Shea (Billy O’Shea’s Grandmother) was appointed teacher of English and Mathematics and Miss N. Sugrue became the new Domestic Science teacher. This innovation in technical education was much appreciated by its pupils. Tuition Fees for the School Year of 1939/1940 were as follows: • • •

DAY SCHOOL Students 5/- (five shillings) EVENING CLASS Students (each subject) 2/6 (two shilling and six pence) Day School Students’ contribution to Games Fund 2/- (two shillings)

Killorglin Technical School, Langford Street, under construction Note: My uncle Eddie O’Sullivan told me that “the corner stones used came from Tralee Jail and had to be re-dressed as the jail’s inmates had etched their names on them”. When the building was damaged by fire, they were sold, as architectural salvage, to the Fossa GAA Club and then used in the building of the gateway pillars of their pitch. (opposite to entrance of the Castleross Hotel).

KILLORGLIN TECHNICAL SCHOOL EXPANSION In September 1954 Killorglin Vocational School expected an enrolment of 115 pupils for day classes with a waiting list for its first-year course and the commercial secretarial programme. The Headmaster, Mr Roche, wrote to the C.E.O. outlining the need for more classrooms to accommodate these rapidly expanding numbers, and for Metalwork to be provided to meet a growing demand. County Kerry V.E.C., at a meeting in September, agreed to support his proposals and a successful case was made to the Department for an appropriate extension.

First Extension. Tenders were invited for the contract to build the extension and Broderick Brothers from Asdee, County Limerick were awarded the contract at a cost of £10,020-14-00. Work was completed for the school year 1958/1959. Metalwork was introduced to the curriculum and the first permanent wholetime metalwork teacher, Mr Michael Moore, was appointed. By 1961 the number of pupils attending classes was 142, (58 boys & 86 girls) with 68 adults attending night classes. Numbers continued to grow. In 1966, Mr Patrick (Patsy) Joy succeeded the first caretaker, Mr Patrick (Paty) Foley who retired. Prefabricated Accommodation. At this time, due to shortage of accommodation, the school garden store became a temporary classroom. Numbers continued to grow and three cedarwood system-built units were erected. They consisted of 4 general classrooms with storage (rooms 9 & 10, 11 & 12) and a fully equipped science laboratory (room 13). New Campus. A ten-acre future campus was purchased from Mr Tom Mangan. FREE EDUCATION Donogh O’Malley T.D. Speech. On 7th July 1966 a major change came to Irish Education when Donogh O’Malley T.D., was appointed Minister for Education. On 10th September, at a dinner of the National Union of Journalists in the Royal Hotel Dun Laoghaire, he announced plans for Free Secondary Education including assistance toward the cost of books and transport. He pointed out that “Every year some 17,000 of our Irish children finish their primary school course and do not receive any further education. This is a dark stain on our national conscience”. The Intermediate and Leaving Certificates were from now going to be made available to all post-primary students. This would give them opportunities to access third level education and universities. It would mean “in future, no boy or girl in this State will be deprived of full educational opportunity – from primary to university level – by reason of the fact that their parents cannot afford to pay for it”. Free Education. On 10th September 1966 Minister O’Malley commenced the introduction of free education for all Vocational and Secondary Schools pupils. It included school transport and a book scheme. This had an immediate impact on school numbers and changed the future of Irish Education. Enrolments took off and zoomed as can be seen from the chart below. As a consequence, there was going to be a shortage of accommodation all over the country. This was resolved with the introduction of a variety of prefabricated classroomsThe last type to be introduced were mobile units. Chart illustrating growth in student numbers from 1931 to 1982 500

440

400

332

300 200 100

1931

1941

102

142

0 1951

1961

No of Students

1971

1982

TRANSITION TO EQUAL EDUCATION OPPORTUNITY Intermediate and Leaving Certificate Programmes. In 1966/67 the Intermediate (at the end of third year) and Leaving Certificate Examinations (at the end of fifth year) were made available to all pupils attending Vocational Schools. Many new subjects were added to the Curriculum and in 1969 the boys and girls in Killorglin Vocational School sat their Intermediate Certificate Examination with great success. This was an important milestone for vocational school pupils and gave them equal opportunity with secondary school pupils for the first time. However, the Leaving Certificate Programme was not offered until the following academic year of 1970/71. New Staff. Many new teachers were appointed, enabling more subjects to be offered on the Intermediate and Leaving Certificate Programmes at ordinary and honours level including Irish, English, Mathematics, French, Economics, Accountancy, Home Economics, Biology, Physics & Chemistry, History, Geography, Art, Technical Drawing, Building Construction and Engineering. Career Guidance and Religious Instruction were an important part of the curriculum. A NEW DAWN FOR VOCATIONAL STUDENTS Growth in Third Level Institutions. With the introduction of Regional Technological Colleges, The National Institute of Higher Education in Limerick (N.I.H.E., now University of Limerick), Dublin Institute of Technology and of course the existing Universities, new opportunities were open to our students. Third level qualifications were available at Certificate (two years), Diploma (three years) and Degree level (four years or five with the Diploma route). To financially support the students of these third level programmes, a series of means-tested grants were provided. Kerry Vocational Education Committee administered the grants for Certificate and Diploma courses, and Kerry County Council the grants for Degree courses. Killorglin students grasped the new opportunities open to them with enthusiasm. Now they sought the careers which came with qualifications in certificate, diploma and degrees courses. With a good standard of Leaving Certificate, banking, nursing, civil service and other careers were open to them. At that time student nurses, once accepted, did their training and qualified through their hospital. COMMUNITY SCHOOL Note: In the early 1970s the Department of Education listed Killorglin/Mid Kerry as a location for one of the proposed Community Schools. A meeting of the relevant parties was convened by the Department of Education and held in the Billiard Room of the C.Y.M.S. Hall Killorglin. In attendance were two Representatives of the Department of Education, County Kerry Vocational Education Committee including Mr Seamus McDwyer, C.E.O., Mr Joseph A. Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Dwyer, Headmaster of the Intermediate School, Killorglin, Mr Gabriel Gallagher, Vice Principal, Presentation Secondary School, Milltown, Mr Maurice Roche, Headmaster, Killorglin Vocational School and Austin Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Reilly, Vice-Principal, Killorglin Vocational School. Both secondary schools rejected the idea emphatically and that was the end of that as the co-operation of all postprimary schools in the catchment area was a precondition of establishing a Community School. First Move to the New Campus. In 1973, extra accommodation was needed. The problem was that there was no more room on, or access to, the existing campus and so the Secretarial and Business Department had to be moved to a corner of the 10 acres which had been purchased from Mr. Tom Mangan. A mobile prefab consisting of two classrooms (rooms 22 & 23), an office and toilet block provided the required accommodation. These were the first buildings to be placed on the new campus and they

were the last of the prefabs to be introduced before the new school was built. At that time a store was made available to house building construction projects which were the practical part of the Leaving Certificate subject. New Headmaster. In 1975 Mr Maurice Roche retired and Austin O’Reilly succeeded him as Principal. Mr Sean Falvey was appointed Vice Principal. Expansion of the Mangan Campus. An additional five acres adjoining the existing site was purchased from Mr Henry Dodd. This increased the area of the campus for a future new school to 15 acres. NEW SCHOOL Architects. We immediately pushed to have a new school approved for the Mangan/Dodd campus and permission to go ahead was granted by the Department. O’Sullivan Campbell, Architects Tralee were appointed to head the design team. They finalised the building plans and Kerry V.E.C. invited suitable contractors to tender. There was one drawback in that we had to opt for either a Building Construction room or a Metalwork room. Taking everything into consideration, including costs, the latter was the choice. Signing the Contract. In November 1976 the contract for the new Vocational School in Killorglin was signed between Kerry Vocational Committee and Keel Construction Ltd., Tralee. The contract price was £742,327 and the new school was to be completed within two years from the date of commencement. Present at the signing were: § § § § §

Mr Jack Lawlor, Chairman Kerry V.E.C., Seamus McDwyer, C.E.O., Mr Ned O’Shea (former pupil) and Mr Sean Clifford both of Keel Construction ltd., Mr Paddy O’Sullivan, Architect, Mr N. Hill, TB Kennedy & Partners, Quantity Surveyors and Mr Austin O’Reilly, Principal, Killorglin Vocational School.

The old School and prefabs continued to serve for the next number of years. Learning Support. On the introduction of Learning Support Programmes by the Department of Education, a dedicated unit was erected on the last available space in the old campus. The contractor was Mr Robert Gamble. This new learning support programme was spearheaded by Miss Eleanor Burgess and she named her new department “Iona”. New Secretary. In 1977 Miss Bernie O’Connor (R.I.P.) was appointed secretary of the school. This was the first time the school had secretarial assistance. A small room was added on to a corridor of the original 1936 building to accommodate an office. Setting the Foundation Stone. Eventually, Keel Construction received approval to commence the building. Mr James Casey of Causeway was appointed clerk of works and, on 19th December 1980, Mr Maurice Roche set the Foundation stone. Goodbye to the Old School. In mid-September 1982 all classes were moved to the new Vocational School, four months ahead of the official completion date. This splendid new school had a range of facilities and equipment equal to the best that could be found anywhere, allowing for a full range of practical and academic subjects. With good timetabling in accordance with their ability, students would now be given the opportunity to choose ordinary or higher level in each discipline. The introduction of computer applications to timetabling by Mr Tom Curran and I greatly facilitated the subject levels and option choices for students. Proper choices, as advised by subject and career teachers, would encourage students to work to their strengths and aptitude. Student numbers enrolled for day classes in 1982 reached 440.

Official Opening. On 29th March 1983 the new school was officially opened by Mr Donal Creed, T.D., Junior Minister for Education and solemnly blessed by Most Rev. Dr. Kevin MacNamara, Bishop of Kerry and Right Rev. W.N.F. Empey, Bishop of Limerick, Ardfert & Aghadoe. A programme of entertainment in music and song was provided by the pupils in the new general-purpose area, with a reception afterwards in the Aghadoe Heights Hotel.

New Community College Opening 1983: Austin O’Reilly, Principal, (centre) with all staff and students.

Name Change. In 1984 the name of the school was changed to Killorglin Community College in keeping with the enhanced facilities, a comprehensive range of subjects and new concepts in education, a title that more accurately represented the school and its ethos. Later an elected Students Council and a school Board of Management representing K.V.E.C. members, parents and students, with the principal as secretary, were established. This put the partners in the heart of the school community. Around this time, we built a Construction Studies room onto the back of the new schoolIt turned out to be a great room and much appreciated by the construction teachers. In 1984, on the retirement of Mr Seamus McDwyer, Mr John Falvey became Chief Executive Officer to County Kerry V.E.C. New Junior and Leaving Certificate. The first Junior Certificate syllabus was introduced in 1989 and examined in 1992. It replaced both the Group and the Intermediate Certificates. Up until this change our pupils sat both the Group and Intermediate Certificate examinations which were now discontinued. The Group Certificate had served our pupils well even though the opportunities it offered leaned toward practical and manual careers. It helped many past pupils with entrepreneurial skill to prosper, such as Ned O’Shea, Dan Tim O’Sullivan, Donal Kearns, Mossie O’Sullivan, Gene Mangan, Coleman Cronin, Myles Coffey (later Building Construction Teacher) and others too many to mention.

COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY INTERNATIONAL TELESERVICES COURSE

On Friday, 27th March 1998 the Minister for Justice, Mr John O’Donoghue T.D. officially opened a new £85,000 Multi-media and Language Laboratory. Mr. Brian McCarthy, Chairman of Fexco, was guest speaker. Only 20 schools in Ireland received this stateof-the-art facility with approval to conduct an International Teleservices Course. An integral part of this programme was student placement in France. We were now well equipped to compete in the era of new technology as we had also acquired a further fully equipped computer room for secretarial students. SCHOOL INTEGRATION PROJECT (SIP) 2000 – 2002 In 1999 we applied to become a member of the School Integration Project. This innovative project was intended to place pupils and teachers at the cutting edge of international technology. As one of the initial five schools in the country selected, Killorglin Community College was honoured and privileged to play its role in pioneering this initiative in computer technology. The school’s co-ordinator was Ms Margaret Griffin. SIP was part of the Government’s IT 2000 initiative which involved a public investment of £40 million. The project would target action on classroom resources and infrastructure; teacher skills development and support; policy and research. The benefit to our school was the addition of a state-of-the-art technology room and enhanced teaching resources. The Five Pioneering Schools Selected: o o o o o

Killorglin Community College St Benildus Stillorgan, Dublin St Michael’s Holy Faith, Finglas, Dublin Mayfield Community College, Cork Confey College, Leixlip

Ø Ø Ø Ø

Overseen by Adrienne Web, SIP National Project Officer & Mr Seamus Knox Sponsored by Intel New computer room – 30 Dell PCs and server Margaret Griffin, Co-ordinator

To facilitate the SIP programme, the secretarial computer laboratory was moved to a more suitable room. The school now had three fully equipped computer laboratories which provided expertise in technology not alone for the staff and students, but also to the broader community. An example was the medical profession who ran a computer training course for its doctors under the tutelage of Dr Hill, M.D. of Milltown. These facilities made a comprehensive response to the training needs of Mid-Kerry’s adult population in Information Technology. There was such an insatiable demand for technology that the computer laboratories operated day and evening with all classes being run twice and fully booked for several years. We were one of the first schools using ICT as a teaching resource and matching future job opportunities with technology in education.

OTHER PROGRAMMES Alternative Vocational Programmes to the normal day courses of Intermediate and Leaving Certificate were also offered: • Pre-employment with work experience, job placement and enterprise as part of the course • The Senior Certificate Vocational Preparation & Training Programme (Alternative to the Leaving Certificate). Work experience and enterprise were a key element of the programme • LCVP - Leaving Certificate Vocational Programme (another Senior Cycle Programme designed to give a strong vocational dimension to the Leaving Certificate). It allowed for self-directed learning, innovation and enterprise • PLCs - Post Leaving Certificate Courses: International Teleservices Level III; Hotel Catering & Tourism, Level 11; Business & Information Technology Level II & Child Care NCVA Level II. The latter PLC courses are now known as Level Five (equivalent to the Leaving Certificate) which allow successful students to move on to Level Six. ADULT EDUCATION (Life-Long Learning): From the beginning learning opportunities were offered to the community of the Killorglin catchment area and beyond. Examples of the Night Classes Offered: Ø Arts & Crafts: Pottery, Art Appreciation, Drawing, Still Life working with oils, watercolours, acrylics & pastels Ø Life Skills: Parenting, Cookery at various levels, Dressmaking, Interior Design, Floral Arrangements, Photography, Gardening, Cookery including classes in conjunction with the Meat Marketing Board (Irish Livestock & Meat Board CBF), and with Bord Iascaigh Mhara (B.I.M.), Ballroom Dancing, Photography, Choral Music Ø Practical Classes: Woodwork, Welding, Motor car maintenance, Tractor maintenance, Building your own home Ø Modern Languages: Irish, French, Spanish, German Ø Business & Computing: Typewriting, Computer Technology for Beginners, Intermediate and Advanced; ECDL - European Computer Driving Licence in Computer Technology, Computerised Accounts, Start your own business Ø Health & Leisure: Keep Fit Classes, First Aid, Yoga Ø Special Courses: Social Science Diploma in conjunction with University College Cork (this two-year Diploma course involved Public Administration, Social Science, Psychology, Philosophy and Economics) BACK TO EDUCATION INITIATIVE - BTEI v Two-year part-time programme 2002-2004 leading to qualifications. Overseen by Shivaun Shanahan, Kerry Education Services v Adults – some were early school leavers who wanted to get a further education qualification v Participating adults completed the course and graduated with a Business Studies Secretarial qualification v Margaret Griffin, Co-ordinator and Tutor. It was the first course of its kind in Kerry

EXTRA-CURRICULAR ACTIVITY County Scheme. From the 1950s on Killorglin Vocational School was one of eleven vocational schools in County Kerry. The Kerry V.E.C. schools were Tralee, Causeway, Listowel, Castleisland, Dingle, Killarney, Rathmore, Kenmare, Waterville, Caherciveen and Killorglin. This allowed for inter-school team competitions in many and various activities such as: football, soccer, hurling and camogie, athletics, cross-country running, debating and others which instilled a great spirit of comradery and competition between schools. A committee of the county schools’ games teachers was formed and named Coisde na gGluichí na gCeard Scoileannna. I was very active at county level and held the position of chairman and secretary of the Coisde consecutively for about twenty years.

Kerry Schools cross-country champions 1977 with teachers Peter Gill and Tim Doona

Each year a County Kerry Vocational Schools track and field championship was held and rotated from school to school. In the late 60s it was our turn to host the event. Up to this time girls’ events constituted an ‘egg and spoon’ race and ‘sixty-yard dash’. We changed this. For the first time that Killorglin ran the County Games a full range of track and field events for girls at junior, intermediate and senior level was held. There was a most generous contribution of prizes for the girls’ events by Mr Peter Wenzel which greatly added to its success.

ACHIEVEMENTS Activities were a large part of the in-house programme for both boys and girls. We promoted football, hurling, basketball, athletics, cross-country running, debating, public speaking, music, choir art, music, drama, school concerts and international school travel. Annual Home Garden competition under Mr George Dennis. Piano lessons examined by the Victoria College of Music, London Mrs Anne Hanbidge etc. Aer Lingus Young Scientist Exhibition (National Category winner- biology section) RTE’s Best of Irish - national winner BIM National Fish Cookery – national winner Junior Technologist of the Year – national winner, Robert O’Reilly. All-Ireland Vocational School Championship U-16 Champions 1990 captained by Mike Hassett and coached by Mr Jimmy Foley and Mr Donal Brosnan. The Hassett brothers honed their football skills on the Mangan/Dodd campus and their first AllIreland Vocational Championship medals were a forerunner of their future success. All Ireland Senior Football Medal Holders Jerry Riordan, Glenbeigh, Tom Prendergast, Keel, (Texaco Footballer of the Year in 1970), Jimmy Lucey (RIP) & Noel Lucey both of Caragh Lake, Mike Hassett of Caragh Lake who captained Kerry to the Church & General National Football League title and captained the Munster Senior Football Championship to the League title, both in 1997. His brother, Liam Hassett, captained the Kerry Senior Football Team to win the AllIreland Championship in 1997. Liam won All-Ireland U-21 Medals in 1995 & 1996 as captain in both years.

Michael O’Shea, overall winner of the BIM national fish cookery competition 1974, with fellow students and Vice-Principal Austin O’Reilly, home economics teacher Eleanor Burgess and Principal Mossie Roche.

School Grounds and Building. Because of the large campus we were able to facilitate many local organisations with use of the school grounds and pitches for sports and training events: Community Games; Gaelic Football Clubs; Soccer Club; Rugby Club; Kerry Pony Show; FCA for their field days and others. The school facilities were used by the ICA and Rás Tailteann, and for Post-Communion receptions for parents and the communion children. There was always one requirement – the relevant club or body would have to have insurance cover which indemnified Kerry V.E.C.’s insurance. COMMUNITY PROJECTS The school played a major role in many community projects undertaken in Mid-Kerry. Killorglin Sports and Leisure Centre (providing the land, administration, accommodation and organisation – Contractor, Mr Jerry Griffin, Gurrane, Cappanalea Outdoor Education Centre (now the National Centre for Outdoor Education & Training) – providing the initial building design, drawings, specifications and quantities (Mr John Bambury, Building Construction teacher), managing and supervising the site development and building work-in-progress payments (contractor, Mr Jerry Griffin, Gurrane). Approved payments were made through Kerry VEC by Mr Seamus McDwyer and his administrative staff (Mr Liam Moriarty and Mr John Ashe). Cospoir Conference. Securing for Killorglin, organising and hosting the COSPOIR Conference on Long Distance Walking Routes which was the precursor to establishing The Kerry Way. Chaired by Eamonn Doherty, Assistant Garda Commissioner and Mr Ronnie Delaney, Olympic Gold Medal 1956. Entertainment was provided by voluntary local talent. First Community Play Group. Establishing Killorglin’s first Community Play Group in the Sports and Leisure Complex. This was the forerunner to the very successful Scamps and Scholars preschool for which the College also provided the site on our Campus with the approval of Kerry VEC and its C.E.O. Dr Barney O’Reilly.

In 2005, I (Austin O’Reilly) retired after 7 years as Vice Principal and 30 years as Headmaster. Mr Eric Brick was appointed as my successor and Mr Donal O’Reilly as Vice Principal. Killorglin Community College is now a proactive and vibrant modern school, caring for its pupils both individually and collectively. It strives to provide a supportive and nurturing environment with high quality all-inclusive education which had its humble beginnings in the Vocational Act of 1930.

Senior class of Killorglin Vocational School 1954 Front (L to R): Gerry O’Riordan, Brendan Barrett, Ned Shea, Myles Coffey, Noel Foley Back (L to R): Donal Lyons, Jimmy Gill, Eddie Langford, Coleman Cronin, Anthony Barrett, Mossie O’Sullivan, Donal Kearns, Gene Mangan About the Author Born and raised in Langford Street, Killorglin, County Kerry, Austin O’Reilly received his primary education in the local Scoil Mhuire. From there he attended the Intermediate School for three years before moving on to Rockwell College, County Tipperary where he completed his secondary school education. He went on to work for the next two years with Mr Donal Prendiville MRCVS. The next career phase was a brief four-month stint in the offices of the Liebherr Crane Co., Killarney before going to University College Cork to study commerce. On qualifying with a Batchelor of Commerce degree, he took summer courses in shorthand and typewriting at the College of Commerce in Cork City. In 1963, Austin was appointed to his first teaching position in Ferbane, County Offaly. A short time later a suitable vacancy became available in Dingle and this opportunity brought him back to Kerry. After four years in Dingle, he was transferred to Killorglin Vocational School. In 1969 he achieved the Higher Diploma in Education following a further course of study in UCC. He soon became Vice Principal and, seven years later in 1975, on Mr Roche’s retirement, the Principal. His interests were games of all descriptions: basketball, hurling, Gaelic football, snooker, swimming and golf. He is greatly interested in local and Roman history and enjoys travel. Austin always enjoyed school life and was privileged to have had such a long teaching career. Forty-two years with great teachers and great pupils - what more could one ask for?

Oulagh Bog Eamonn “Edso” Crowley 2005

Turf cutting has endured for centuries as a necessity for survival. However, climate change has heralded the death knell of this way of life. This poem evokes a disappearing culture, to the sound of modernity. Up on Oulagh bog the turf is stooked On a summery July evening. All about Nature’s beauty lays out A peaceful heavenly scene. A hazy curtain hangs from the Reeks As overhead cloud clusters Slowly slip along under blue skies, And unseen birds sing out evensong. The turf cutters move along the bank Leaving pointed stooks secure in their wake. There is an unhurried pace to the work, A job well done, midst Nature’s bounty. Cutting and saving the turf is a tradition, A part of our ancient culture Where the ‘Meitheall’ meant that The neighbour ‘never died a Winter yet’. I gaze around and see Mikey Connor’s Kerry cattle grazing on the cutaway. And on the car radio, Kerry 97FM Is playing an Irish Country Song.

About the Author Eamonn ‘Edso’ Crowley is a well-known activist and volunteer with many local organisations over the years. He has been known to give a “rocán” of a song on occasion!! UP THE PUCK WITH THE TAIL UP

The Day in the Bog 1995 L. to R.: Pat Rochford, Mike Perry, Jim Burns Photograph by kind permission of Riona McMonagle.

MY LIFE GROWING UP WITH THE GREYHOUNDS Patrick “Chub” O’Connor I am just writing a synopsis about the famous breed of greyhounds, known world-wide as the “Spanish” breed, that were owned by my late father Timothy “Chub” O’Connor TD, MCC. He was a member of the Council of Europe in the 1960s, where he became a member of the Arch Chamber of Commerce in Frankfort in Germany – which meant that he had an open door to meet Ministers there, and also industrialists who wanted to set up businesses and factories in Ireland. But this story is about his famous greyhounds, so I will get back to that. He owned a few greyhounds in the 1940s, namely Travelling Rum in May 1944, Maglass Treasure 1947/1948, Kilgarvan Boy 1947; and three bitches, namely Pearse Street Dolly (January 1946), Bathing Beauty (August 1945) and Fianna Bride (February 1945). I don’t have a lot of information on these greyhounds except that I have their racing cards. Then sometime in 1945/46 my father “Chub” went to a greyhound sale with his nextdoor neighbour Mr Ted Mangan who was the owner and landlord of the public house in Iveragh Road known as “The Bakery”, and of the house next door where we lived and rented from him. He was the captain of the local rugby team in the 1930s. “Chub” was a member of that team in 1931, as was his first cousin Frank Paul McCarthy who died in a tragic accident just a few short years later. Ted’s son was the famous cyclist Gene Mangan who won the Rás Tailteann in 1955, amongst a lot of other road and track races. At the auction Ted bought a dog named Bobby White Socks – for how much I don’t know, and I don’t know his future history either. “Chub” bought a greyhound bitch named Cordal Moonlight, originally from the Castleisland area, for 55 guineas. This bitch became the dam (mother) to the famous “Spanish” breed of greyhounds. Now at this point I will have to explain where the “Spanish” prefix came from. “Chub” went to the Irish Coursing Club on Davis Road in Clonmel in 1947 to have his greyhounds registered, as he was the owner of the first litter of pups from Cordal Moonlight and a famous coursing and racing dog named Shaggy Lad who had made a great name for himself on both track and field. This litter was whelped in 1947, and included three dogs and one bitch and, as I said they had to be named and registered. So he gave several prefixes such as, possibly, “Killorglin”, “Puck Fair”, “Meanus” (where he himself was reared), “Kingdom” or “Kerry” – only to find that all of those and several others were already taken. So finally, in frustration, he was looking around their office and he noticed a cardboard box on a shelf, and printed on it was “Spanish Marmalade”. So he asked if the prefix “Spanish” was in use anywhere in Ireland and, when told that it wasn’t, he immediately settled on that – and that is how the famous “Spanish” breed came into being. The first litter as I said had three dogs and one bitch and were born on Joy’s farm in Ardraw near Meanus outside Killorglin. This farm was owned by David Joy and his brothers William and Robert and their sister Betty. “Chub” was a close friend of the Joys as he was reared only two miles away at Meanus.

The Joy brothers agreed to rear the litter on their farm at Ardraw, and for this he agreed to give them one of the dogs. It didn’t cost a lot to rear them on the farm as they ate more or less the same type of food as the farm animals, and they had the run of the fields for exercise etc. So the Joys reared the litter until they were about 12-16 months old. As I said he gave one of the dogs to the Joys, and they picked out the one they wanted, and it was registered in David Joy’s name as Ardraw Moonlight. The other three pups were named as Spanish Lad, Spanish Emperor and the bitch was named Spanish Treasure. Now they all had great careers but the most famous of them all was Spanish Lad, or “The Lad” as my father “Chub” was inclined to call him, so I will just tell you the story of Spanish Lad. If you want to know the history of the others you will have to wait for the book about my father’s life, which I am writing and hope to have published next year 2021. “Chub” sent Spanish Lad to Tralee to Mr Tim “Tadgh” Drummond who lived at the top of the Rock at No. 1 Urban Terrace, very close to the Greyhound Track. Spanish Lad was entered in a solo sprint race on 2/8/1948 and clocked 17.65 seconds for 315 yards on the old grass track. Following that he won a series of races, all in Tralee, as listed below: 525 yards race in 31.20 seconds on 9/8/1948 550 yards race in 31.80 seconds on 13/8/1948 550 yards race in 32.30 seconds on 27/8/1948 525 yards race in 30.40 seconds on 8/9/1948 525 yards race in 30.35 seconds on 14/9/1948 525 yards race in 30.40 seconds on 28/9/1948 The reason why I am giving all of these details is just to show how he was progressing into a seasoned winner. He was next entered in two 500-yard races in Harold’s Cross in Dublin. On 30/9/1948 he clocked 29.04, and again on 5/10/1948 when he clocked 28.45 seconds. Then on 5/3/1949 in a 550-yard race at Shelbourne Park in Dublin he ran in an almost track record time of 31.30 seconds. Then back in Tralee on 11/3/1949 he came first in a 525-yard hurdle race in a time of 31.78 seconds. Spanish Lad, and his brothers Spanish Emperor and Ardraw Moonlight and his sister Spanish Treasure, had also been coursing at several meetings – like Reen Park in Killorglin, Caherciveen and Duagh, and also on the preserves at The Kerries and Knockanish Open coursing meeting. Now back to the track. In July “Chub” entered three dogs for the Irish Greyhound Derby of 1949 in Harold’s Cross, and this is what happened. The dogs were Spanish Lad, Spanish Emperor and Spanish Port [I don’t have much information about this dog, except that he had the “Spanish” name]. In the first round in Heat 8 Spanish Lad won in 29.75 – flashing out of the box in a new track record time 0.03 seconds faster than the previous best held by Village Major. Spanish Port finished fifth in the same heat and didn’t qualify. In the previous heat (No. 7) the 10/1 chance Spanish Emperor was beaten 3 lengths by Labrais Bella in a time of 29.92. In the second round Spanish Lad was brilliant in beating Labrais Bella by a length in 29.88 with Jackie’s Gift in third place. The other two races were won by Friends Everywhere 78

(30.35 seconds) and The Tivoli (30.40), and Spanish Emperor came in third in this race. Friends Everywhere was the overall hot favourite for the Derby title but had been beaten into second by Jackie’s Gift in the first round in 30.15, and Jackie’s Gift had qualified in third place in the second round won by Spanish Lad. Three days later the semifinals were run off and both were sensational. In the first semifinal the odds-on favourite Labrais Bella missed his break and never counted as Friends Everywhere led all the way and won by six lengths in 29.74 – clipping 0.01 seconds off Spanish Lad’s track record in the first round. Merry Courier and Spanish Emperor also made the final. In the second semifinal Spanish Lad missed his customary flying break and never got a clear run. However, along with Rushtown News he made up a lot of ground and the pair of them passed Ballylanigan Blackout, but Rushtown News won by two lengths in 30.43. The “Lad” was on offer at 4/6. Now the scene was set for the final a week later. Friends Everywhere was drawn in Trap Six – from where he had set the track record in the semifinal. Spanish Lad was housed in Trap Four, known as the “coffin”, but he flew out from No. 4 and raced to the first bend alongside Friends Everywhere who met trouble there and the race was over as Spanish Lad went on to win the race by two lengths in a time of 29.87, and half a length from Merry Courier and Rushtown News, with Spanish Emperor in 4th or 5th place. The 1949 Irish Derby Trophy was going home to the “Spanish Kennels” in Killorglin from Harold’s Cross in Dublin to great celebrations, crowds on the street, torchlight procession and bonfires etc. In a report in The Greyhound Review on Spanish Lad’s win in the 1949 Derby, Michael Fortune wrote: ‘O’Connor had refused an offer of £3,000 for the which on final night was winning his fifteenth race in twenty outings. The 550-yard record holder in Cork with a time of 31.00. he had also run in the Irish Cup, going out in the first round, but winning four rounds of the Irish Purse at the same coursing meeting at Clounanna.’

Presentation of the 1949 Irish Greyhound Derby Cup, won by Spanish Lad. L. to R.: Tadgh Drummond (trainer), Monnie Reilly, John Francis Riordan (Manager, Harold’s Cross Greyhound Stadium), Timothy “Chub” O’Connor (owner) As mentioned already, Spanish Lad was also coursing at that time, and in reference to that I have records of our greyhounds competing in several of these meetings. For instance. The “Lad” went to the last four (semifinal) in the Iveragh Cup at Reen Park, Killorglin on 28/10/1948; and Spanish Emperor went to the final of the NB Trial Stake on the same day. Also, on Wednesday 10/11/1948, Spanish Emperor was beaten in the second round of The Kerries Stake by the eventual finalist at the Open Coursing meeting held at The Preserves at The Kerries and Knockanish yearly meeting, and Spanish Treasure won the NB bitch trial stake on the same day. Now here I should mention that in March 1948 the bitch Cordal Moonlight had another litter of pups, this time off a dog called Rebel Abbey. This litter included the dogs Spanish Chestnut, Spanish Figtree, Spanish Monarch, Tim’s Abbey and the bitch

Spanish Moonlight– and possibly Spanish Port (already mentioned in the Derby report”, Spanish Slip and Spanish Dancer. I have no more information on the last three dogs, except that they had the “Spanish” prefix. The reason I have mentioned the above here is that some of those dogs will be mentioned in upcoming races – in particular Spanish Chestnut and Spanish Figtree. Then on 29/8/1949 Spanish Lad ran in the first round of the Laurels at Cork track, with his half-brother Spanish Chestnut – aged 18 months – also being entered. He won his first round in a time of 28.53 for 500 yards with Spanish Chestnut coming in second, 4 lengths behind. And so to the semifinal on 3/9/1949, which saw Spanish Chestnut winning his heat in a time of 28.70, and Spanish Lad winning his heat in a time of 28.80. On to the final a week later, which saw Spanish Chestnut winning from Trap 2 in a time of 28.55, with Spanish Lad coming in second. The “Lad” was hot favourite at even money or less, and the “Chestnut” was at 10/1. The Cork crowd were always convinced that we had the race fixed some way, but how could you fix a race for two dogs to come in first and second. Anyway, “Chub” had £50 bet on Spanish Lad to win, and the most he had on the “Chestnut” would have been £5 and possibly £1 each way. I do know that Paddy Fitzpatrick from Railway Terrace – who reared and minded Spanish Chestnut from a pup – had a £1 bet on him which was nearly half a week’s wages at the time. But he won at 10/1 so this and his £1 back was £11, which was a good month’s wage at the time. Spanish Chestnut won the Trophy and First Prize of £400 and Spanish Lad came second and won £150, so everyone came home happy that night. I should mention here that Spanish Chestnut won the Laurels again the following year for twoin-a-row in a time of 28.80 for 500 yards.

Presentation of the 1949 Irish Laurels Cup, won by Spanish Chestnut. L to R: Paddy FitzPatrick (trainer of winner); Centre: Timothy “Chub” O’Connor (owner of winner and second); Patrick O’Connor (age 7) with Spanish Chestnut; Tadgh Drummond (trainer) with second Spanish Lad.

Presentation of the 1950 Irish Laurels Cup, won by Spanish Chestnut. From Left: Stevie Corkery, Paddy FitzPatrick (trainer), Stevie Foley and Patrick O’Connor (age 8) – receiving the trophy on behalf of his father.

Now to get back to Spanish Lad. As I said, he had already won the Derby back in July/August. Then on 7/10/1949 he travelled to Cork to the old Greyhound Track near Victoria Cross on the Western Road – which is no longer there as the new modern track is at Curraheen – to run in a 550-yard race. The Cork track was going through a great period then and used to have big crowds on Mondays and Wednesdays and be thronged on Saturdays. 1949 will be remembered for the emergence of Tim O’Connor of Killorglin. I think the race is best described by the famous Con Houlihan – who was born and reared not far from the “Chub” O’Connor “kingdom’ – who recalled the launching of Spanish Lad in The Irish Greyhound Review thus: “The Spanish Invasion I was up at the track early on Wednesday evening, minding my own business – in simple language keeping two ears to the ground – and I met Jackie Hourigan, the well-known Tralee hackney man who was up on business. He had driven up Tim O’Connor (or “Chub” as he was better known), and a big red fawn dog (Spanish Lad’s racing weight was 84lbs always). Out like a rocket And Jackie told me quietly and in language that Damon Runyon would appreciate that if fitness meant anything they would not lose. And so I consulted my business partner and we put together five whole pounds – an

enormous sum for us and for the time – and put it on the nose of Spanish Lad. Kerry dogs were always suspect in Cork, and with good reason, but we got 3/1. There was a mint of money on the favourite, a dog owned by that great sporting family the Buckleys of Donoughmore. It was the biggest bet of my young life, and the few minutes that remained until the hare came round seemed an age. I was down at the first bend watching my dog in the number one trap and, when the doors flew open, he came out as if from a catapult. At the bend he was three lengths clear of everything and, despite his size, he was grazing the rails. “Chub” is Launched And the further that 550 race went, the more he went ahead. I said to myself ‘this is surely a record’, and so it was. The time went up – and showed that Spanish Lad had clocked 31.00 seconds and smashed the track record. He was a marvelous dog – a first-class performer on track, park coursing and open coursing, and he launched “Chub” O’Connor on a great odyssey. And his debut on that intimate track on the Western Road in Cork’s Fair City was a night that I am unlikely to forget.” That was great praise indeed from Con who I used to know later on the rugby field in the 1960s. I was playing with Killarney at the time and he was playing with the Castleisland team. We would talk sometimes after the match, and when he found out that I was “Chub’s” son he told me all about that night. That track record was never beaten on the old grass track on the Western Road; the newer sand track at the Curraheen Park is at least 1-2 seconds faster than the grass tracks. He also broke the track record for the 525-yard hurdle race in Tralee. He ran that race in 30.55 when the previous record of 30.90, put up by “Dreaming Melody” had lasted since the early 1930s. Spanish Lad then went back to coursing. He had coursed on 24/11/1948 in the Irish Cup at Clounanna near Adare in Limerick where he lost in the first round of the Cup – but qualified for the Purse where he won four rounds but was beaten in the semifinal by the eventual winner. On 30/11/1949 he won the Kerries Cup at the meeting at the Kerries and Knockanish Open Coursing outside Tralee. In order to enter a dog at a lot of these coursing meetings you had to be a member of the Club. So in this case Spanish Lad was nominated by Denis Casey of Knockanish who got the Cup for the year and “Chub” received the prizemoney of £50. His trainer was Mr Tadgh Drummond of Urban Terrance in Rock Street, Tralee. Open coursing was a good bit different from park coursing as it was run on the home ground of the hare, in wild open country where the hare knew all of the safe places where he could hide and escape from the dogs by dodging down a gullet or jumping over a wall or lying down in the reeds and “blinking” the dogs – who hunted and chased by sight rather than scent so, if they couldn’t see the hare (or “Puss” as he was known), the dog would stop chasing and the hare would escape. The winner was usually the dog that got up to turn the hare first or maybe kill the hare, which was very seldom unless there was something wrong with him; and if the man who left them off (known as the slipper) saw that he wouldn’t release or “slip” the dogs.

A report in the Sunday Chronicle of 11/12/1949, when talking about the National Open Coursing Meeting at Newbridge says that ‘old timers’, who consider park coursing a travesty of the traditional form of the sport, will be there in strength to support what one of them has called “fresh air” coursing’. A report in the Cork Examiner on News and Sports of 29/12/1949 is headed ‘Another triumph for Spanish Lad A brilliant display in the Kingdom Cup.’ ‘Another large crowd was present at the concluding stage of the County Kerry Coursing Club meeting at Ballybeggan Park, Tralee, yesterday when, despite heavy rain splendid sport was had behind strong running hares. Spanish Lad, owned and nominated by Mr. Tim O’Connor MCC, Killorglin, won the Kingdom Cup in independent style defeating Captain’s Farewell, nominated by Mrs. H. O’Connor, Rock Street, Tralee, in the final.' Spanish Lad had beaten Dark Prancer in the first round leading by one length to turn the hare first; and then went on to beat Moira’s Patsy in the second round by four lengths to the hare. In the third round Spanish Lad beat Little Breeze by a bare length to the turn and outpaced Little Breeze for a couple of turns and then legged his game. Incidentally, Little Breeze was nominated by Mr Sonny Champ, also from Killorglin. Spanish Lad then went on to beat Orphan Duke in the semifinal for the first turn by three lengths and scored twice before the hare was killed. In the meantime, Captain’s Farewell got a bye in the first round and, having won his second round against The Leonard, he beat Dunboy Philip in the third round by one length and beat Pursued in the semifinal by two lengths. And then to the final, where the report says as follows: ‘To a good slip Captain’s Farewell showed slightly in front to half-way where Spanish Lad challenged to be about a length ahead at the turn. Sharp exchanges followed, but when the Killorglin dog killed he was a good winner.’ In the ante post long odds Captain’s Farewell was favourite at 3/1, while Spanish Lad was 14/1. He won the First Prize of £300 and Cup. Then he went to the third round of the Munster Cup at the Newcastlewest coursing meeting on the 5th/6th January 1950, where he lost in the semifinal. Spanish Lad was then was entered in the famous Waterloo Cup at Altcar which is on the outskirts of Southport in Lancashire, close to Aintree near to Liverpool. The Waterloo Cup was established in 1836 at the Waterloo Hotel in Liverpool and was an open coursing meeting held at Altcar as I said. The most famous Irish winner was Master McGrath, who won it on three occasions in four years (1868, 1869 & 1871). In the 1870 running of the competition he plunged into the river Alt and was nearly drowned – he was saved by a quick-thinking spectator who pulled him out. There was another dog named Fullerton who won it on four years running (1889-1892). There have been as many as seventeen Irish winners of the Waterloo Cup from 1836 until 2004, when it was closed down. The last winner was an Irish dog named Why You Monty. In that final year the British Government passed an anti-blood sports law, and the coursing was closed down at Altcar and elsewhere. On that last year there were approximately 175-200 hares killed in all of Ireland and England. When Altcar was

sold to local landowners there were 3,500 beautiful wild hares shot there in 2005. In Altcar the coursing club always protected the wild hares, as they needed them for the Waterloo Cup once a year. The anti-blood sports group should have insisted on Altcar becoming a wildlife reserve but, once they got their way in getting the law passed, they had no further interest in protecting the wild hares. If they ever get the same law passed here in Ireland, the same thing will happen. Now to get back to Spanish Lad and his entry in the Waterloo Cup. He left Ireland from Collinstown Airport in Dublin on the 6th of February 1950 with his owner Timothy “Chub” O’Connor, his trainer Mr Tim (Tadgh) Drummond, Ernie Evans of the Towers Hotel, Glenbeigh and Rory O’Connor, the trainer of another famous dog Osprey Hawk who had won major honours previously.

Spanish Lad, with, (from left) Timothy O’Connor (owner), Ernie Evans, Tadgh Drummond (trainer) and Rory O’Connor, before leaving Dublin Airport for the 1950 Waterloo Cup meeting

Unfortunately Spanish Lad in his very first course at the Waterloo Cup ran against a greyhound named Mad Raider. They met what reporters and spectators called a demon hare, a big large game that brought them all over the countryside, sometimes out of view of the crowd of spectators in the longest course of the day. The hare ran the dogs to a standstill and, when the trainer Tadgh Drummond picked up Spanish Lad he could hardly stand up. Although he came out for his second course, he couldn’t do himself justice and was beaten easily by Dutton Rapide. I read somewhere that most of the dogs that won the Waterloo Cup over the years were what they called “quitters”. In other words dogs that would run up fast and win the first three or four turns and then give up. I don’t know if this was true or not, and I am not using it as an excuse for Spanish Lad’s loss in the race, but he was very game dog who would never give up unless the hare escaped, or he killed him.

A report in The Coursing and Racing Calendar of Saturday February 11th, 1950 said: ‘After the first two rounds of the Waterloo Cup at Altcar on Wednesday direct Irish interest had vanished. Only Spanish Lad and Silent Rival had survivor to the second round. But the gruelling course against Mr T. Harte’s nomination Mad Raider – the longest in the first round – ruined the hope of Mr P. McAlinden’s nomination Spanish Lad; and he was easily beaten by Dutton Rapide in the second round. The Waterloo Cup that year, 1950, was finally won outright by a dog named “Roving Minstrel.’ Another report at the same time, which is headed “Waterloo Cup: Spanish Lad defeated”, said: ‘The defeat of Mr T. O’Connor’s Spanish Lad in the second round of the Waterloo Cup at Altcar, Liverpool, on Wednesday caused a certain amount of disappointment not alone in Killorglin and all over Kerry, but throughout the thirty-two counties of Ireland, where the dog had become a national favourite amongst the greyhound fraternity all over the country. In a report Mr T. F. Powell said that: ‘I rate Spanish Lad “The Dog of the Century” for the following reasons. Imagine this dog after a long track season in which he annexed the coveted Irish Derby Cup, second to his half-brother Spanish Chestnut in the Laurels final in Cork, came back to base in Tralee having broken six Irish track records, goes out and wins the Kerries and Knockanish Open Coursing Cup, and now crowns it all winning the valuable Kingdom Cup in Tralee, that is my idea of a genuine all-round, stout hearted greyhound’ Great praise indeed from a local newspaper pundit at the time. If Spanish Lad at that stage and time could have won the Waterloo Cup, it would have been the crowning glory of his famous career. Spanish Lad had many more wins in the 1950 season and was retired to stud. He produced a lot of good racing dogs and bitches, but none as good as himself. I will be telling a lot more about his exploits and unfortunate death, and about a famous court case brought against my father “Chub” concerning Spanish Lad – which he won. I will be telling all in the upcoming book about “Chub’s” life which I hope to publish in 2021. Spanish Lad was the dog that the famous song was written about by Con and Patsy Corkery from Tullig. I received the words of the song from Mrs. Betty Corkery (nee Murphy) from Banshagh in Killorglin who was married to Con Corkery. The song was very well composed and written, and I am very grateful to Betty for keeping it for all of these years.

SPANISH CHESTNUT and SPANISH LAD In Dublin’s Fair City that’s built on the Liffey One evening in August in nineteen forty-nine A stout-hearted greyhound came up from Killorglin To prove that the stars of the Kingdom still shine. This free-breeded dog from the Green Hills of Kerry The cream of old Ireland, likewise England’s best. Likewise the Laune Rangers who still produce champions Who sweep all before them when put to the test. This dog Spanish Lad, he has now made grand history By winning the Derby at famed Harold’s Cross. He broke from his box like a snipe in the moorland And surged on ahead like the breakers at Ross. And first o’er the win line he shot like an arrow The Champion of Ireland with four lengths to spare. And then by the Leeside he met his half-brother To the young Spanish Chestnut he gave right of way. They raced neck and neck with the field far behind them And the Chestnut came first for the Laurel and Cup. Spanish Lad seemed to say as he fondly gazed round him Congratulate my half-brother, my own mother’s pup. Success to his owner, the gallant Chub Connor May more prizes be his day by day. Success to the Trainers, Pat Fitz and Tadgh Drummond Who proved themselves capable men every way. Sweep on Cordal Moonlight, be proud of your offspring Be proud of the Derby, the Laurel and Cups. Let the men of the Kingdom and all gallant Sportsmen Admire and salute you and your gallant Pups. I remember going to Munster Finals in Fitzgerald Stadium in Killarney during the 1950s and 60s watching the famous Mick O’Connell and others where the song used to be sold on penny ballad sheets and sometimes sung by the likes of the Furey Brothers’ father who strolled the terraces playing his banjo and singing at halftime. I must say that I went to a lot of coursing meetings as a young person of six or seven years up until my teenage years. I was at coursing meetings as far afield as Clonakilty in Cork, Adare in Limerick and Clonmel in Tipperary. I went all over Kerry in places like The Kerries outside Tralee, Abbeydorney, Duagh, Listowel, Ballyheigue, Caherciveen, Killorglin and Killarney. In Killarney coursing was held on the 4th & 5th of January at the Western Demesne by kind permission of the Earl of Kenmare. The main event was the Bunrower Stake for all-aged greyhounds for the Arbutus Cup.

In Killorglin the coursing was held at Reen Park which was a 500 to 600-yard stretch in front of the Harris household at Reen, where soup and sandwiches etc. were provided on the 27th & 28th of October each year. All of the locals helped out in the management and training and feeding of the hares etc.; and also the setting up of the field fencing etc. and the building of the escape where the hares were for a week or so until they were left off free again – mostly back to where they were caught, of course. They would lose about 5 or 10% of hares each year but many of them would have died in the wild anyway but everyone always cheered for the hare to get away into the escape, shouting “Hull, Hull” or “Go on Puss (as they were known)”, we never wanted them to be killed. There was another meeting in Killorglin each year involving dogs. This was the annual Drag Hunt, held in front of the hill at Laharn. Beagles, mostly owned by the local butchers, would follow by scent the course where a person would have dragged a ball of meat on a rope through wild ground, bushes, rushes, water, drains etc., and the dog who followed the trail and came in the fastest time was the winner. The bookies would be on the side of the hill with their boards, standing on their stools shouting out the odds for famous dogs like Champion and The Armoured Car from Cork and Joker, a famous beagle from South Kerry which won it more than once over the years. The drag hunts are still held in parts of Cork and in South Kerry. The excitement at these yearly meetings was similar to a Mid-Kerry final at the Track. We used to look forward to these events for months ahead, like Puck Fair or Christmas or St. Patrick’s Day. Remember that was no TV at that time, or indeed mobile ‘phones etc. People were lucky to have one call box in the town in front of the Post Office on Iveragh Road and of course the local cinema, the Oisin, also on Iveragh Road. The meeting in Reen was the most famous coursing meeting each year for me and other young people from the town, like Eric and Trevor Champ who went with their father Sonny Champ, and Steven Clifford who went with his father Eddie Clifford; and from Reen near the field Mossie Riordan with his father Timmy, and Cathal and Michael Foley with their father James. A lot of other people in the town and nearby like Joe O’Shea, Donal Prendeville, Mick Scanlon, Tom and Christy MacGillycuddy, Seamus and Timmy Quirke from Listry, Philip, Kevin and Mike Murphy from Lismacfinnan, the Johnsons and Foleys from Dungeel, the Joys from Bansagh and Jamsie Lyne from Ballymalis used to attend the same meeting. The last-named bred and reared the famous long-distance greyhound Rocking Ship who I will write about elsewhere in my book. I must say that everything I have written here are the memories of a small child, a teenager and a young man, so if they are incorrect or if anyone takes offence I apologise.

The “missing name” in the front row is that of James Foley, Reen.

Note: The following poem “The Road to Lower Reen” was written by Kathleen Harris, whose family owned the field which was used for the coursing meetings. About the Author Patrick O’Connor was born at No. 30 Laune View in 1941. He was educated at Killorglin National School, the Intermediate School Killorglin (The “Carnegie”) and Rockwell College. On finishing school, he came home to work with his father in the family firm in Clooncarraig. The family had moved in 1943 from Laune View to a house on Iveragh Road beside the old Oisín cinema and dance hall, where they lived until 1958 when they moved to “Sevenoaks” near the Creamery. Patrick later returned to Laune View, where he now resides in No. 22. Patrick was a member of Laune Rangers in the late 1950s and played a little at underage. But then he joined Killarney Rugby Club and was banned by the GAA. He rejoined Laune Rangers in the late 1960s and is still a member. He played basketball with Killorglin Celtic in the 1950s and 60s, and also with the local FCA basketball team. He was a member of Dooks Golf Club during 1965-1976 and 1983-2016. Patrick was Club Captain in 2001 – the year of the foot-andmouth epidemic and the World Trade Centre (9/11) attack. But the club continued to develop the club and the course. He has always loved his local area by the famous river Laune, and he has a great sense of place and pride in same.

Please see overleaf the biographical note about the composers of the “Spanish” poem.

Note on the Authors of the Song â&#x20AC;&#x153;Spanish Chestnut and Spanish Ladâ&#x20AC;? Con and Patsy Corkery were born and raised on the Holly Bush Road, Tulligbeg. They went to Douglas National School. In their early years they sold turf to make a living, and then went into the plastering business and writing songs. In 1956 they moved to Coventry. After a couple of years they moved to London and started their plastering business. Con returned home in the early 1970s and worked in the building of the Klinge pharmaceutical factory. He subsequently worked in the warehouse at Klinge until his retirement in 1992. Con sadly passed away in 1999 at age 64. Patsy continued plastering until he passed away in 1980 at age 52. May they Rest in Peace.

The Road to Lower Reen Kathleen Harris There is a branch on the way People call it a byway, but to me It is always a winding Boreen No path ever trod is as pretty As my way, When winding my steps to my home in Lower Reen. In the Spring of the year when gay Flowers are in blossom And nature is clothed in purest of green Or when the leaves sear and winds Come to toss them There is no place on earth like the Road to Lower Reen Sure I love every yard from the cross To the lime kiln Every branch on the way, every briar And I ask one reward on this earth While thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s time still, To live all my life on the road To Lower Reen. About the Author Kathleen Harris is 97 years young. She was born and reared along with her eleven siblings in Reen. Kathleen and her brother were the only two to remain on the farm to eke out a living where she still resides today in her little cottage where music and song are the mainstay of her day. Thankfully she can still belt out a song or two herself, the Dubliners being her favourites.

THE AMERICAN LETTER Denis Doyle RIP An extract from a Killorglin community newsletter of December 1971 – a tale of emigration and social history. The author was Denis Doyle RIP, a native of Ballymacprior, Killorglin. Denis was a founder member of Killorglin History & Folklore Society, and a contributor to their Journal “Cois Leamhna” published in 1984.

Christmas changing, yet changeless ‘Several years ago I spoke to a man who had returned, on holiday, after over fifty years in America. His hair was white as snow, the skin on his face was like drab yellow paper, and his tall figure was gaunt and fleshless. In his blue eyes alone was there any hint of the magnificence, vigour and beauty that once was his. One could believe that this man had done well in the U.S.A., and indeed, like most Americans, he was not reluctant to talk about his successes there. However, any opinions one might have formed about him simply vanished when, overcome by deep emotion, he described a Christmas Eve homecoming long, long ago after he had spent nine months “on hire” on a north Kerry farm. He had finished his tasks early and, having received the balance of his payment from the farmer, had set off with a featherlight heart, taking the high mountain road through Gleann Sgoitín. He claimed that he had run as much as he had walked in his wild urge to get home as soon as possible. He had arrived at his poor thatched home west of Killorglin about an hour after dark. At exactly the same moment, his father, who had spent the day “grubbing furze” at some farm east of Killorglin, also arrived back after a five-mile walk.

The living room of the cabin had been whitewashed, a Christmas candle was lighting and the special Christmas “luxury” purchases were everywhere to be seen. The woman of the house had discarded her sack apron for a new one of “butchers blue”. She welcomed her husband and son with wild cries as she waved a letter in her hand; and her numerous younger children provided an accompaniment with a rising hum that sounded like a muted version of a war cry of their distant ancestors. The dollar-lined letter the mother held in her hand had come from the eldest of the family, a girl, who had crossed the Atlantic the year before. It is perhaps difficult to imagine the sheer joy of that moment without the experience of the effects of grinding poverty with its haunting fears of want, of destitution and starvation itself – destitution and starvation not only for one’s self, but also for the helpless ones dependent on one. In a home where all such trials and fears have been all too real, the return of the father and son with their slender earnings, coupled with the arrival of a magnificent contribution from the good girl in America, effect a liberation from an almost intolerable burden and aid the fulfillment of love and loyalty which is so much part of Christmas itself. It was not a wonder that the memory of that Christmas Eve should have stamped itself on the mind of the Irish-American. The “American Letter” was a source of much comfort and joy in poverty-stricken days of the past. The number of Irish who crossed the Atlantic in the second half of the nineteenth century reached the massive figure of four million. In most cases those Irish emigrants left little behind in the material sense, just cabins of mud and straw, but a vast amount in love and loyalty. They nourished those with a constant stream of teardamp letters, and always there were dollars ‘inside’. Only the good Lord knows how much their hands accomplished to succour the loved ones behind – aged and helpless parents, equally helpless young brothers and sisters. The “American Letter” was something of a gilt-edged security. Even hard-headed shopkeepers gave credit on strength of it. The letters came in a constant stream all year round, but at Christmas they came in a flood. Those were golden letters in days when there were no “dole” or social service handouts, or even (before 1910) any old-age pensions. There was nothing, in fact, except the few potatoes and heads of cabbage won from coarse and ill-fertilised soil and, of course, the shillings exchanged for sweat by the larger scale farmers who, let it be said, were themselves equally subject to the savage pressures of the times. The part played by the “American Letter” in making the Christmas of the past can hardly be overestimated. The not so poor, as well as the poor, depended to some extent on overseas contribution for the little extra needed to meet the requirements of the occasion. But the help from faithful friends abroad was as much a part of the spiritual being of Christmas as it was an essential material contribution. For Christmas was, and is, and must of necessity continue to be a festival of love. Such love begins, as love should, at home, and proceeds outward to the more immediate, and eventually extends to all. Many complain that Christmas has lost its essential Christmas spirit. True it is being affected by the artificial modern industrial world with its plastic roses and machinemade precious stones. But one cannot reproduce the magic of the Christmas candle lighting up in the whitewashed living room of a cabin of other days, or the candlelight from a thousand little windows shining like stars on the dark world outside. The modern night is ablaze with electric light and the powerful headlamps of motorcars travelling up and down every lane in the land.’

Killorglin’s Greatest Historian (In Memory of Denis Doyle)

Tom Doyle (Nephew)* Death crept by the gable and lurked At the windowsill Then paused, knowing its visit was unexpected, Within he slept, oblivious to the ebbing of The sands of life. The visitor came, conquered and left without a word. Death, like life, was a solitary interlude. Three days he laid in the bosom of his bed We knew nothing of his passing ‘til a caller found him dead. Fifty-nine years of life ended in one sixteenth of a second. We mourn for his passing as his life was dedicated To our past. On paper with ink and pen he told us of events, happenings The great and little things that make us what we are. In that way he loved us all though told it to no one. Alone he worked the farm and wished no one any harm We tried to share his life such attempts caused him alarm. A life of contemplation I feel he must have had Like the hermit monks of old or the scholars of a bygone age. Wresting with dates, the lives of peasants, the death of Kings Such were the yarn he used to weave the tapestry Of knowledge. “His” tapestry it is our task to preserve this heirloom Only if this is done will Denny rest in his tomb!

See “About the Author” overleaf

About the Author Tom Doyle was born in Killorglin in 1960. He was educated in Scoil Mhuire National School, the Intermediate School Killorglin and N.I.H.E (now University of Limerick). Studying History and Politics, he was awarded a Bronze Medal for Exceptional Achievement on graduation in 1982. A member of the Killorglin History and Folklore Society since the 1980s, Tom joined the Killorglin Archive Society in 2013. His employment experience extends from the Iveragh Peninsula Archaeology Survey to the corridors of Leinster House at Dáil Éireann. As well as contributing to the histories of Dooks and Killarney Golf Clubs for their centenary publications, he has written for historical periodicals from time to time. He has written three books ‘The Civil War in Kerry’ (2008), ‘The Summer Campaign in Kerry’ (2010) and ‘The Ballykissane Tragedy: Good Friday 1916’ (2016). He was involved in the ‘Lammas 400’ Memorial Project in 2013, marking four centuries since the granting of the patent to hold a Fair in August in Killorglin, which we now celebrate as Puck Fair. He has also contributed a chapter on the Ballykissane Tragedy in the County Kerry Commemorative book “Kerry 1916: History and Legacy”. Tom Doyle now lives and works in Cork City. However, he remains a regular visitor to his hometown of Killorglin.

The Girl in the Red Coat Memories of my time at Callinafercy National School. Ann Robinson

Callinafercy National School (established 1888, photo 2005) Courtesy of the National Inventory of Architectural Heritage.

This is really my mother’s story, but she has left me to do the telling. Many years ago, on one of our annual holidays to Kerry, this time with my mother (Bridie Keane of Dungeel, in Killorglin parish) and my young daughters, we were driving from Killorglin to Inch for a day on the beach. On the way we saw a sign for Callinafercy, and Mum mentioned that this was where she went to school. The girls in the back of the car asked if they could see where Nana went to school. My mother hesitated to answer, but by this time I had turned the car around and soon we were heading down a dark narrow road, under a canopy of overhanging trees. It took a little searching, but eventually we came across the school building. Callinafercy National School was sadly looking much more forlorn and derelict than in my mother’s day. It would have been well over seventy years since she had spent some of her most formative years there. As we stood outside, looking around, my mother described the two classrooms in the school. The front door was long since gone. Peering tentatively inside, we could see the floor had also fallen into huge disrepair, and there were many holes in the roof. There was little, if any, of the furnishings left. One thing my mother pointed out, still to be seen in the porch, was the row of hooks where the children hung their coats – the boys on one side and girls on the other. This is where the memories hang. On one of those hooks my mother hung her red coat on her first day at school. This is her story …

“I was born in 1927 and started school after the Easter holidays in 1932. I have vivid memories of my first day at school. I had just come to live with my aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Dan Keane, on their farm at the Abbeylands, near Milltown. They had four children of their own, three boys and a girl called Bridie Mai. I was also called Bridie. To differentiate between us I was known as Bridie Tom, after my father, and she was Bridie Dan, after her father. Her mother, my aunt, was one of the three teachers at Callinafercy school. Jamsie Lamb was the head teacher and taught the older children in one room. The other classroom was shared by my aunt who taught the reception class, and Mrs Lamb who taught children in the middle age group. “I was never sure as to how it came to be that I had left my own home in Dungeel and was sent to live with my aunt. I think it may have had something to do with the decline in numbers of children attending school. Callinafercy school was dropping to an unacceptable number of pupils to warrant three teachers. All the time I attended that school there were three teachers but, soon after I left, Mrs Lamb went to teach at the juniors’ school in Killorglin. My aunt remained at Callinafercy school until she retired. “On my first day at school I wore a red coat and black patent shoes. The coat was made of red flannel and was made by my grandmother, Mrs Dan Moriarty, who lived at Dromin (also in the parish of Killorglin). At that time all the children from the Abbeylands travelled to school on a donkey and cart. The donkey was very docile and was called Tom Hurley. We used to let him graze in the field at Maggie Shea’s shop, which was near the school. “On that first day I can remember sitting on the back of the donkey and cart with my red coat and shiny shoes, feeling very apprehensive and shy. Paddy Burke, who was also on the cart, was older than me and began to tease me, taking off my shiny shoes. I was very distressed and by the time he eventually gave them back to me we were arriving at school, and I was fighting hard to swallow the lump in my throat and to hold back the tears. “The more fortunate children came to school with a bottle of milk and a small package of bread and butter to have for lunch. In the winter the milk was put in front of the turf fire to warm. After I had been at school a while, it was my job to get water. My aunt would then boil the kettle and make a gallon of cocoa and to which the milk we brought was added. “One of the days that stands out in my mind was when the school inspector came. In Mr Lamb’s classroom there was a large map of Ireland on the wall. The inspector asked the class to show him on the map the highest mountains in Ireland. John Sullivan’s hand shot up and he said “Sir, if you step outside with me, I’ll show you exactly where they are”, pointing to the MacGillycuddy Reeks. MacGillycuddy Reeks from the homestead in Dungeel (Ann Robinson)

“Another visitor to be feared was a certain parish priest whose demeanour frightened the life out of the children. He would come before the Confirmations were to take place, in order to examine the children on religious knowledge. This particular time the question that was put to the class was “was faith alone necessary for salvation?” No child knew the answer and, as I looked down, I saw a puddle appear on the floor trickling slowly towards the priest’s club foot: for some poor child the fear had been too much. The answer he gave us was “faith alone without good works is dead as the body is without the soul”. Some of the older boys who, on getting the Confirmation “slap on the cheek”, would be raring to go, to leave their short school days behind them and go out into the world of work. “We were taught to speak Irish in school. One girl, who I believe had come from England to live with her grandmother, found this was an arduous task. Her grandmother, meeting her from school one day, asked how she had got on at school. She replied “alright, except that she could not be doing with the ‘cad é sin?’ (what is that?)”. “I struggled at school with reading, and only in later years I came to realise that I was dyslexic, a term that would not have been recognised or used in those days. There were no books in my own home at Dungeel, but at my aunt’s house there was a daily paper and books to read. In the evening, after the chores were done, I would sit and persevere with the task of trying to understand the words in front of me. On leaving school I passed my matriculation exams, which were in Irish, so those evenings of sitting by the fire and struggling with the reading paid off!” These are just a few of the memories my Mum shared with us the day we passed by Callinafercy school. I can see in my mind’s eye the small determined black-haired girl, with the red coat and shiny black shoes, and wonder on which hook did she hang her coat? As I sit with her now, frail and white-haired, with still a glint in her eye, I’m sure she has a few more memories yet to share but “sin scéal eile” (that’s another story)!

About the Author Ann Robinson is a retired district nurse, based in Lancaster, UK, who visits Ireland on a regular basis. Ann’s love for the country began during her summer holidays spent on her grandparents' farm in Dungeel. Ann has a special interest in Irish literature and poetry, and since her retirement has been fortunate to have more time in Ireland, enjoying walking in the hills of Kerry.

The Fishery Polkas

Thomas Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan

About the Music The Fishery pub and restaurant was famous for what was penned “The Irish Nights” in the 1990s and catered for thousands of visitors from all over the world – with dinner, drinks and ably entertained in music, song, stories and dance by the Fishery house band. These Fishery Polkas were inspired by that time.

About the Composer Thomas O’Sullivan, Alohart, Beaufort, Killarney, Kerry. Multi-instrumentalist musician. 'Seacht slí na seachtaine' ... cultural maps and walking trails ... Milltown/Killorglin and Beaufort. 'Archaeorglan' ... ogham studies and permanent exhibition on Boyles in Langford Street re Farrantoreen stone. 'Four quadrant festivals' ... imbolc/bealtaine/lughnasa and samhain in Killorglin. 'Legends and lore of the MacGillicuddy Reeks ... Kerry Dreamtime' ... published 2019.

100

MY FARMING LIFE Patrick O’Neill The year 1932 was an eventful one for our country, mainly due to three reasons. Firstly we had the holding of an International Eucharistic Congress in Dublin, secondly we had Fianna Fáil going into Government for the first time. The third – maybe not so well known – the birth of one Patrick O’Neill, son of James and Abbie O’Neill, the eldest of a family of four, brother Jimmy and sisters Mary and Eileen. Growing up on a small – 20 acre – farm in Mount Lyne, half a mile from Killorglin town at the top of the hill. I attended the local National School, Scoil Mhuire, which wasn’t far away. I remember my teachers, the first of whom was one Michael O’Donoghue. He struck me as an oldish man – maybe he was only doing relief work. In any case Bean Uí Conaill taught me mostly while in the infant classes. When I moved into first and second classes I was taught by Mr Liam McSweeney, who was in poor health and we had relief teachers coming in. Then on to Mr Liam Foley, who taught me in third and fourth classes, and finally to Mr Michael O’Donoghue in 5th and 6th classes. After leaving the National School my brother Jimmy and I enrolled in the Killorglin Technical School, Langford Street, better known in those days as “The Tech”. These schools provided study of both academic and practical subjects; Woodwork, Mechanical Drawing and Design, Rural Science, Maths, Bookkeeping, English, Irish and Domestic Economy, and were a relatively new concept in post primary education, around here anyway. The Killorglin school was built in 1936, and offered a two-year course leading to the Group Cert., which in turn opened the way to a range of apprenticeships to various trades.

The house where I was born in Mountlyne, Killorglin

101

My formal schooling over, it was now down to taking on responsibility for running the farm and giving some respite to my hard-pressed mother, who had borne the awesome responsibility of rearing a young family and keeping the farm going, since my father had died six years previously. She was to be assisted along the way by my uncle John O’Neill, who stayed with us through thick and thin. Mick Brennan, Gurrane, Francie Hartnett, Laharn and Jimmy and Matt Murphy, Beaufort, were the others who helped to keep the show on the road, and should be remembered for that. As well, as with most farming families of that time, we children were required to help out especially at busy times like the haymaking. I remember as a child of four or five “volunteering” to go with my father out to pick stones from what would be a meadow. First on the list was the saving of the hay. Here are some “Memories from the Meadow”; Standing in the field as a child, watching the mowing machine, pulled by a pair of horses, cutting the hay stroke by stroke, and suddenly seeing the corncrake, leading her brood of chicks out of the uncut meadow and into the safety of the cover of the fence, and so to live and grow another year. The cut hay would then be left to lie for a day to wilt and then turned and left for another day when it would be turned again or made into small cocks and left for another day or two before being put into “wynds”- large cocks – tied down and left for a few weeks to mature. The “day of the wynds” was an occasion for “all hands on deck”. As we worked, we would sometimes be treated to a fly past of the wild geese in perfect V formation, cackling happily as they flew towards the mountains in the evening. The swallows too could be observed flying about, sometimes high, a sign of good weather, sometimes low, a sign of rain coming. After a few weeks the hay would be taken in to the haggard and stacked in a reek or shed to await the coming winter when it would provide fodder for the farm animals, together with some roots like mangolds and turnips and some crushed oats. This saving of the hay usually took three weeks in our farm, assuming good weather, and the weather wasn’t always good. An extreme case would be the year 1946 when we had hay lying on the ground for three weeks before it was fit to put into wynds, owing to the wet weather. Conversely, we had an occasional long dry summer as well as poor growth, leaving us with a shortage of winter feed. A new development was entering the picture at this time also with the appearance of the baling machine, and many farmers took to having their hay baled, as it saved time. This was all to change in the late sixties with the advent of silage making. We made our first silage in 1968, done in two days with better quality feed produced and not so dependent on the variable Irish weather. Next on the list was the harvesting of the corn, in our case oats and wheat, usually done in late July or August by reaper and binder. However, if it was lodged – broken down – it was back to the old-fashioned way of the scythe and hand binding of the sheaves. The stooks – ten to fifteen sheaves put standing against each other – would be left in the fields for a few weeks before being drawn in to the haggard and stacked, to await the coming of the threshing machine, which would separate the grain from the straw, the straw to be used as bedding for the animals and the grain as part of their winter feed. This was a big event in the farmer’s year, involving the coming together (meitheal) of the neighbours – nine or ten – to help out. It had something of a social aspect as well, and refreshments would be served. Eventually the combine harvester would come and cut and thresh the corn as it lay growing in the field, a major change in Irish farming.

102

Time then for the digging of the spuds, usually done in October, as well as the pulling of the mangolds. These would be pitted and covered with earth to prevent damage from winter frosts. Turnips would be left in the ground until required as they weren’t affected by the frost. Some ploughing would be done at this time also for the following year’s crops, but this was done mainly in the new year. I recall a time when our own ploughing was being done, of taking tea out to the ploughman in the field, and how he would invite me to handle the plough and walk in the furrow as it turned the sod. After a while he would hand me the reins to guide the horses. I felt out of my depth here, but he was there to reassure me especially when it came to negotiating the headlands. And the seagulls would come, shrieking with delight at the feast of worms revealed by the upturned sod, and then, unable to take any more and scarcely able to fly, they would rest awhile on the ploughed ground before all flying off together. When it came to planting/sowing first down would be the corn, oats and barley mainly around here, to be followed by the root crops – potatoes, mangolds, turnips in March/April. And so, broadly speaking, that was the pattern of tillage farming practiced around these parts for much of my lifetime and a generation beyond, a time to sow and a time to reap. Nowadays there is neither sowing nor reaping, as little or no tillage is being done in this part of the country anyway, so I never got a chance to practice my “skills” as a ploughman. We sold our horse in or around 1968, the age of the tractor was beginning to dawn on Irish farms, though we never got one ourselves. As a matter of interest, my uncle told me that flax was grown on our farm at one time, as it was on many farms in Kerry. It was during the First World War when extra demand was created in the linen industry in Northern Ireland, as it was used in the manufacture of wings for planes. A large shed, known as the flax shed, was erected in Stephens’ yard – later Boyles’ – in Langford Street at that time.

L-R, Pat, his sister Mary, Jimmy Murphy (Beaufort) seated, his brother, Jimmy and mother Abbie cutting the corn in August 1949.

103

The system of farming we operated, like most farms at that time, was known as mixed farming – some tillage, as already outlined – and which became compulsory during the Second World War – and some cattle rearing. Sheep farming went on, mainly in mountain areas, and some farmers kept pigs. The cow however was, and has long been at the centre, occupying a unique place in Irish history. A farmer’s status was defined more by the number of cows one had rather than the number of acres. O Woman of Three Cows, agraw!, Don’t let your tongue thus rattle! O don’t be saucy, don't’ be stiff, because you may have cattle. I have seen – and here’s my hand to you, I only say what’s true – A many a one with twice your stock not half as proud as you. (From the poem “The Woman of Three Cows”).

The farmyard in winter.

I myself had a distant relative who was known as “Peig na mBó”. A farmer who lived west of Killorglin was questioned one time as to how many cows he could keep – his answer was that he had “grass for one and water for a hundred!”. And so dairying became the dominant enterprise in Irish agriculture, particularly in the poorer areas of the South, with the milk churned into butter in the dash churns which, when combined with milk and potatoes, formed the basic diet of the Irish people. Surplus butter was sold to merchants’ agents or local shops, and made its way onto the English and Continental markets through the world-famous Cork butter market, bringing in some badly needed money to the country and its farmers. Indeed Ireland was credited with being the world’s dominant exporter of butter in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Surplus milk was sold locally.

104

The scene was changing however and the foreign market for Irish butter was declining, due to competition from Holland, Denmark and France who had a higher quality product. A major development at this time was the invention of the mechanical cream separator in1879. This was to lead to the establishment of the creamery system, where the farmers brought their milk for separation – the cream was taken out – and they brought home the skim or separated milk to be fed to farm animals. In later years, when the Dairy Disposal Company (DDC) took over, it changed the system, whereby creamery groupings would be formed, comprising a central creamery with butter making facilities and a number of auxiliary or branch creameries who would supply the cream. For instance in Mid-Kerry there were originally eleven branches with a central creamery in Dicksgrove in Currow village. The creamery system was slow to take off due to a lack of support from farmers and opposition from the Cork butter merchants, and real progress was not made until the 1890s. A number of privately owned creameries were established in the early 1880s, mainly in Limerick and South Tipperary. In Kerry creameries were springing up, co-ops in North Kerry and privately owned creameries in the South, owned by butter traders and private investors, with their centrifugal separators. Killorglin’s old creamery was most likely set up at around this time, sometime between 1900 and 1910, located off the Annadale Road, behind the Old Mill. The face of Irish agriculture was changed forever by one man’s vision, perseverance and passion for the rights of Irish farmers, to control their own enterprises and their own economic destiny. Sir Horace Plunkett was a most unlikely revolutionary. A leading member of the Anglo-Irish aristocracy, a member of the British Parliament (from Dublin), a Protestant and a Unionist, he nevertheless became imbued with the values of the co-operative movement. Observing the condition of the Irish Dairy industry in the 1890s, Plunkett saw the demand and prices for Irish butter continuing their decline in the face of superior Danish production. He judged the formation and development of farmers’ Co-Operatives in the dairy sector to be an essential component of the modernisation and development of a successful farmer-controlled industry. Arising from that he went on, with the help of R. A. Anderson, George Russell and others, to travel the country addressing farmer meetings, planting the seeds of co-operation and meeting much hostile opposition in the process. Nevertheless, they persevered, and the cooperative movement continued to grow, particularly in the dairy sector. By the turn of the century there were 840 co-operative societies, including 350 creameries. There came into being at this time – 1894 – also a coordinating body, the Irish Agricultural Organisation Society, IAOS, which would play a critical role in the development and later survival of the Irish co-operative movement; and also play an important role in the formation and development of Kerry Co-operative Creameries Ltd. some years later. The IAOS was later renamed the Irish Co-Operative Society (ICOS), to reflect changes in the Irish economy. A period of great prosperity descended on the country during the First World War and some years afterwards, when markets for certain agricultural products opened up. However in the 1920s these markets went into decline and creameries and co-ops began to fail. There were too many competing for a limited milk pool, and they were paying a poor price for milk – 6d a gallon (£:s:d) in 1928.

105

In order to save the industry from collapse and the ruin of Irish farmers, the Irish Free State government stepped in and by Act of Parliament set up the Dairy Disposal Company (DDC) in 1927, the first of the semi-state companies in the country. Its remit was to save the Irish dairy industry from extinction. It would do this through rationalisation and reorganisation; and would acquire private creameries and other agri-businesses and transfer them to co-operative societies, though some producers refused to join co-ops and those remained in DDC ownership until Kerry Co-Op took over. The DDC would expand its own role far beyond what was originally intended. It moved into Kerry in late 1928 and purchased Dennehy’s and Watson’s creameries in Farranfore in Mid-Kerry and made them into one group, with a central creamery in Dicksgrove. This group was later divided into two in 1934, with a new central creamery in Castlemaine and branch creameries in Ballyfinane, Ballyhar, Firies, Killorglin and Listry. Dicksgrove group retained its branches at Gortatlea, Kilcummin, Scartaglin and Tubbermaine. It is notable that Mid-Kerry’s only Co-Operative Society – Milltown and Ballyhar – sold to the DDC in 1929, and its Ballyhar and Listry creameries became auxiliaries of the new Mid-Kerry DDC group. The DDC lasted fifty years and was responsible for the erection of many creameries, including five in Mid-Kerry – Beaufort, Kilgobnet, Glenbeigh, Castlemaine (1934) and the new one in Killorglin in the 1950s – and an improvement in the milk price. It introduced “the travelling creamery” as well – vehicles which travelled out to remote areas and separated the milk there and then. With the Mid-Kerry area serviced, the DDC now turned its attention to South Kerry, which at that time – 1934 – had no creameries. In 1937 the Caherciveen Group was established, to be followed by Kenmare and Waterville. Together with Ardfert (1929), Listowel (1929), Dingle (1934), Castlemaine (1934) and Dicksgrove (1934), it now operated eight central creameries together with their auxiliaries, covering the whole county, and paving the way for the setting up of Kerry Co-Operative Creamery many years later. I first took the milk from our six cows to the local creamery, by donkey and car, during the school holidays as a child in the early 1940s. The creamery manager was Michael O’Sullivan, father to Kathleen Shannon, Noreen Griffin, Sean O’Sullivan, Eileen Hollingsworth and deceased Michael O’Sullivan and Patricia Ryle. The machinery was steam driven and in charge of that was one Tom Hurley, assisted by his son-in-law Jimmy Harmon. Butter maker was Mary McCarthy, although butter wasn’t being made there in my time as it had transferred to the new central creamery in Castlemaine. Sometimes we would have to wait awhile, until the pressure in the boiler was sufficient to work the machinery and so a queue would form, extending out on to the Annadale Road. We got the skim milk to take home with us – cold – as there was no pasteurising in those days. This would be fed to farm animals, and some people would use it for home baking. With regard to price, a Department of Agriculture Report issued in 1963 puts the price of milk per gallon in 1961 at between 17.93 pence and 22.39 pence and averaged 19.62 pence (decimal currency). The value of the skim returned to the farmer was put at 2.6 pence per gallon. Bord Bainne was set up at this time also to market dairy products and achieved considerable success abroad with its Kerrygold brand of butter, under the management of Tony O’Reilly.

106

A new creamery for Killorglin had long been talked about to replace the antiquated structure we had. It finally came in 1953, a fine new structure adjacent to Dromavalla graveyard, with modern machinery and stainless steel pipes. The first manager was Derry Burke, who served there for many years. Some others that I recall who worked there were Jimmy Harmon, Mick Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Riordan, Tom Dowd and Dem Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Sullivan at different times. The milk was pasteurised and we got back hot skim to bring home and feed to calves and pigs. The cream went to the central creamery in Castlemaine for churning into butter. There were hundreds of suppliers attending the new creamery, many with small herds of three or four cows, and the 10- or 20-gallon tank, delivered in many cases by donkey and cart, was a common sight on the roads here in those days. Long queues would build up occasionally outside the creamery, stretching out the Tralee road. In warm weather the milk would sometimes turn sour. I remember one time Jimmy Harmon having to dismantle the separator as it had become clogged up, this leading to further delays. A second intake point was later opened which speeded up the operation. A store was built on at the back also, from which animal feed stuffs were dispensed as were fertilisers from the creamery yard, both of which could be purchased through deferred payments. Later on, when Kerry Co-Operative Creameries was established, and separation of the milk ceased, storage tanks were set up to hold the milk until the tankers came to take it to Listowel for conversion into casein and other products. A new butter making plant was installed there and went into production in 1979.

Killorglin Creamery at Dromavalla, 1960s.

107

Little did we think at the time that a day would come when this creamery would cease to function. The newly established Kerry Co-Operative Creameries were introducing a system in branch creameries whereby the milk, instead of being taken in at the creamery, was transferred directly to the tanker lorries for delivery to Listowel. In time, bulk collection at the farm gate would follow. This involved the farmer installing a refrigerated bulk tank to hold two day’s milk supply, and the tanker lorry would come every second day and take it directly to Listowel. This bypassing of the creamery was a major change and met with considerable resistance from farmers, who for generations had taken their milk to their local creamery, something which had a social dimension as well. It was all done as a cost cutting measure –efficiency was now the name of the game. And so it came in the 1970s. Kerry Group plc There are few, if any, events which have influenced my life as a dairy farmer more than the founding of Kerry Group, originally Kerry Co-operative Creameries Ltd., in Listowel in 1972. Even though I wasn’t fully aware of the broader picture at the time, it was becoming ever clearer to more and more farmers that what we needed in Kerry was a farmer-controlled factory that would process the whole milk into products other than butter, and so give us a better price than we were currently getting. Maybe some farmers as well were eyeing what was happening across the border in Cork, Limerick and Clare, and how the Coops there were paying a higher price for manufacturing milk. It should be acknowledged that we had the Fry-Cadbury processing plant in Rathmore, contributing greatly to the local economy but taking relatively little milk from the county as a whole. It wasn’t though as if nothing had been happening in Kerry along those lines. In north Kerry, going back ten years, moves were being made to have a milk processing facility established in the area. These were led by one Edmond (Eddie) Hayes, a native of Kilflynn in North Kerry. Eddie Hayes was a man of great vision and he saw clearly how much Kerry needed such a facility. He was also a man of great determination and perseverance, and he needed these qualities, otherwise he would surely have given up the effort long before. Chairman of the local co-operative in Abbeydorney, he saw at first-hand what was required to improve the lot of the farmer suppliers. Possessed of great leadership qualities, he was able to bring people with him. Many meetings were held both locally and nationally and many trips to Dublin, and many returns empty handed. However the efforts continued, resulting in the formation of the North Kerry Milk Products NKMP, to be chaired by Frank Wall, a Director of Bord Bainne. If a factory was to be built a site would obviously have to be secured. This was eventually done with the purchase of a 22-acre site from Listowel Racecourse Company by the banks of the river Feale. A breakthrough came eventually in 1970 with the arrival in Ireland of representatives of the Erie Casein Company from Erie, Illinois, USA. Husband and wife, they were looking for a supply of casein for the family business back home. Casein is a protein extract of milk used in the food business, but also in the manufacture of buttons, combs and billiard balls.

108

The Americans entered into discussions with North Kerry Milk Products about the building of a factory. The discussions went well, both sides seemed anxious to reach agreement. Erie would take a 15% stake in the venture. Meanwhile the building of the factory proceeded and a tight schedule of May 1972, later changed to the 1st June, was set for the start of production. Now the important matter of appointment of a manager had to be considered. The position was widely advertised, and interviews were held. All the applicants were highly qualified, but there was general agreement that one stood out from the pack, by name Denis Brosnan, a native of Kilflynn, from farming stock and neighbour of Eddie Hayes. He was 27 years of age and had already made a name for himself working for Golden Vale. He would one day lead Kerry to a key place in world food production. Production officially began at the new factory on 12th June 1972, although it wasn’t complete. The peak milk production season was at hand and it was crucial that the milk be taken in. There were problems at the beginning due to the hasty start but, with the extraordinary dedication of the staff, these were eventually overcome. But even while that was being done the next phase of development was being planned, and a milk powder plant was installed in 1973. But a much bigger plan was also under discussion, namely Brosnan’s proposal to take over the assets of the Dairy Disposal Company in Kerry, and amalgamate them into a county-wide co-operative to be known as Kerry Cooperative Creameries Ltd. The proposal was discussed and explained to farmers around the County, and was voted on and accepted overwhelmingly. They would purchase a £1 share for every 41 gallons of milk supplied. Minister for Agriculture, Mark Clinton, announced in October 1973 that the assets of the DDC would be transferred to Kerry on 1st January 1974 for a sum of £1,150,000. This was a major development for the dairy farmers of Kerry and brought us into the Big League, comprising Golden Vale, Mitchelstown, Ballyclough, Waterford and Avonmore co-operative creameries. It was also the start of a long and difficult journey that would eventually take Kerry Co-Operative Creameries, later Kerry Group PLC (1986), to world leadership in the food business. The nature of that business would change with the acquisition of the Denny bacon factory in Tralee in 1982, which saw Kerry diversify out of milk for the first time. This was a decision forced upon Kerry as a result of a declining milk supply, due mainly to farmers having to dispose of many of their cows under the disease eradication schemes operated by the government. It would lead in time as well to Kerry stretching its wings into the wider world and in particular its acquisition of Beatreme Food Ingredients in America in 1988, to be followed by many more, even down to the present day. A major change to the Kerry / Erie agreement was to take place at this time also, in that Kerry wanted to market its own products in North America, rather than just supplying it to Erie, as was the case up to now. It was acknowledged that but for Erie’s participation there might not be a Kerry Co-operative at all. While it was acknowledged also that the agreement worked well for both sides, Kerry now wished to strike out on its own in the marketplace as more than just a supplier to Erie. Erie on the other hand were happy with the agreement negotiated in 1971. Eventually an agreement was reached, and Kerry bought out Erie’s interest with effect from 1st January 1984. Denis Brosnan paid tribute to Ardia and David Reisenbigler for not standing in the way of Kerry’s plans, in spite of some disappointment on their part at the turn of events.

109

With regard to the changeover from a Co-op to a Public Liability Company (PLC), this came about with the realisation by management that if Kerry were to expand into new food technologies at home and abroad, it would need considerable financial resources not available at present. After much discussion and planning, it was decided to go the PLC route. This was unprecedented. Kerry were entering uncharted waters here, but decided nevertheless to press ahead. Just like in the campaign for the Co-op, meetings were held with farmers around the County, and Kerry management explained the whole plan. It was approved at a Special General Meeting in February; and the offering of 10,350,000 shares in July 1986 was over-subscribed. At a price of 35p per share the issue raised £3.6 million. And so what was predicted by some to be the downfall of Kerry turned out instead to be a master stroke, to be copied in time by many others. Kerry Group was born. Our membership of the European Economic Community. Ireland joined the European Economic Community on the 1st January 1973, having been signed in by Jack Lynch, An Taoiseach, and having voted overwhelmingly the previous year in favour of membership. Membership of the EEC would be for me a close second in importance to the advent of Kerry Group, in particular through its Common Agricultural Policy (CAP). This is described in EU literature as follows; “the countries of the European Union – frequently faced with shortages of various categories of food – recognised that the security of food supply was an important priority. Through the CAP, they created a strategy to make food available for EU consumers at affordable prices, while at the same time ensuring that farmers got a fair return for their efforts”. Milk price per gallon to suppliers in 1978 was 53.53p (decimal currency). It would later rise to over £1 a gallon. The EEC as well would open up a huge internal market for our agricultural products, and no longer would we be dependent on the UK only. We farmers, for our part, responded by increasing production – more and better cows, improved grazing (paddock grazing), silage, healthier animals. The government of the day was backing the effort as well by provision of a good advisory service; grants under the Farm Modernisation Scheme were available for improvements to land, farm buildings and purchase of machinery. And it produced results, to such an extent that markets couldn’t be found for it all, resulting in butter mountains and milk lakes. EU literature describes the situation thus; “increased competition from other countries throughout the world and a downturn in international markets has meant that, in recent years, a substantial proportion of our dairy produce has been ending up in intervention stockpiles. The cost of the CAP has gone up, but farmers’ incomes have not benefited”. This led to the introduction of quotas in 1992. Under the guidance of Commissioner Ray MacSharry, the guaranteed prices which had encouraged higher production were reduced and some land was taken out of production. Consumers benefitted because of lower prices, while farmers received direct payments to compensate for the drop in their income. It should be noted here that the EEC changed its name to the European Union with the signing of the Treaty on European Union in Maastricht 7th February 1992. It should be mentioned here as well that the influence of the EU in Ireland, and its benefits, has ranged far and wide through its funding schemes and programmes in Ireland, agriculture being only one part of the economy to reap the benefits.

110

Last tillage on the O'Neill farm. Patrick Joy is harrowing the land for the of wheat with Molly the horse, 1968.

Rural Electrification. Another major event to influence my life in farming was the Rural Electrification Scheme, which came to Killorglin in the mid 1950s. Nationally the scheme began in 1946 in North Co. Dublin and ended in the late 1970s in the Black Valley in Kerry. The Kerry rollout began in December 1947 in Ballymacelligott, and ended in Tuosist in September 1964. Its coming transformed country life and brought it in line with town living in many respects. Its immediate effect was felt in the house – the electric light, power socket to plug in an electric kettle, iron, heater, radio and vacuum cleaner. From there it spread outwards to the farmyard, its chief use being to power our first milking machine in 1974. Also water pumps, power tools, electric fence, milk cooler and many more uses were to be found for it on Irish farms. For instance, where would we be without it for the milking of a hundred cows? Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say the coming of rural electrification revolutionised country life in Ireland. It was an enormous task, one which required the synchronised management of a vast number of people and materials all over Ireland, even into the remotest valleys. It involved the erection of a million poles, the digging for which was done by pick, shovel and crowbar, as well as 75,000 miles of line. Let’s recall the words of Dr Thomas McLaughlin, first managing Director of the ESB; “The people of our remote villages must have the comforts which villagers in other lands enjoy. Electricity, the great key to the economic uplift of the country, must be provided on a national scale, cheap and abundant”. Perhaps it is something we take for granted, except when we don’t have it, like some places in the recent storms.

111

My uncle John O'Neill with shovel.

The Cattle Mart. I stood many days on the streets of Killorglin town “minding” the cattle at the fair. We had brought them in to meet the buyers and hoping to get a good price. There would be a fair once a month – some would attract a bigger turnout than others, like the Pattern in February, the 19th May, Puck Fair, and the 18th November. Sheep fairs would be held in September/October and into November, as well as an odd pig fair. Eventually, and as time went on, it came to my lot as the seller to bargain with the buyer to get the best price possible for my animals, and this wasn’t always easy. Consider the situation – a seller who like myself, might attend two or three fairs in the year, would be left with a poor knowledge of the value of one’s animals, which could fluctuate over time, and so maybe not get the best price possible. But that was all set to change with the coming of the cattle marts. A meeting was held in the CYMS hall way back in the 1950s, which I attended. Its purpose was to consider the setting up of a cattle mart in Killorglin. It was addressed by a Mr. Dick Langford, Callinafercy, an IAOS organiser, who outlined the advantages of such a move. His proposition was however rejected by the meeting, a decision no doubt influenced by presence of a substantial number of cattle dealers and jobbers. Some may have thought as well that it would interfere with Ireland’s oldest fair – Puck Fair. Its rejection would be a major loss to Killorglin. A meeting was subsequently held in Milltown/Listry and the people there accepted the mart. And so Mid-Kerry Co-op Livestock Mart was opened for business on 25th May 1959, and I’ve done most of my cattle transactions there ever since. I must say I found it very satisfactory. After having my animals taken in, and knowing they would be safe and looked after, I was free to go to the sales area where, under a roof and seated, I could watch other animals being sold, with a number of bidders, and so when it came time for me to go to the seller’s box I would be better informed as to what my own animals were worth, and this without third party involvement. And if I wasn’t satisfied with the price offered, I could withdraw my animals from the sale. The buying and selling of cattle is done mostly through the marts today.

112

With reference to Dick Langford above – it should be acknowledged that he was an outstanding promoter of many things agricultural. As advisor to the Irish Agricultural Organisation Society (IAOS), he travelled around the country promoting Co-Operative Societies and the federation of numbers of Co-Operative Societies for joint industries – chocolate crumb, milk powder, cheese manufacture and so on. He travelled abroad also for IAOS on such matters as cattle, pigs, silage etc. owing to his vast knowledge of these things he was much sought after for consultation. But he will be remembered above all in Milltown and the wider Mid-Kerry area for the establishment of the Mart, with help from Fr. McCluskey CC and others. Should we in Killorglin also remember him as the man who gave us the first shot at having the Mart here? Writing about fairs, marts and cattle prices, I believe mention should be made of what has become known as the Economic War with Britain 1932-1938. Without going into the details of what was involved here, but rather on its effects, it was a catastrophic time for Irish farming, depending as it was on the British market for its exports, and in particular for its agricultural exports. To give an example; in 1929 exports of cattle, mainly to Britain, were 775,000, and by 1934 that figure had dropped to a little over 500,000. A farmer would get ten shillings for a calf – the price of its hide. This drop in agricultural earnings had a knock-on effect on other sections of the population as well, leading to a situation of dire poverty and deprivation. The Dairy Cow, Veterinary Services, Animal Health and Welfare. I bought a purebred Friesian cow from the Linehan herd of Gortatlea in the late 1960s and paid £96 for same, which was considered an astronomical figure at the time, the normal run of price would hover around the £65 mark. I must say though that I consider it one of the best investments I ever made in a farm animal. She lived to the age of thirteen years, had a calf each year and yielded 1,000 gallons of milk a year. As well, she produced a number of heifer calves which went on to join the herd. Up till that time our cows consisted of the Shorthorn breed, who were classed as dual purpose, that is to say producers of both milk and beef. Their milk yields however would be considered low in to-day’s world, hovering around the 500-gallon mark. And so the era of the Friesian was about to take off, slowly at first, but spurred on by our entry into the EEC (1973) and the advent of Artificial Insemination (A.I.). I must have been about twelve years of age before I heard of the word mastitis – the old breeds didn’t suffer from it to my knowledge, but later high yielding cows like the Friesian did. Other diseases were making themselves felt also – brucellosis, a highly contagious condition which can lead to abortion in cows and lead to undulant fever in humans. As well, our membership of the EEC was placing an obligation on us to clear our herds of this serious infection, which was high in Kerry. In fact, Kerry was chosen as a pilot area in the eradication campaign which eventually led to our brucellosis-free status. The eradication of Bovine TB from the national herd was receiving much attention around this time as well. Initial tests in Kerry on 28.10.1961 showed a high incidence of the disease at 34% in cows. Nationally there were various schemes in operation aimed at cutting down the incidence of the disease, and so lead to its eventual eradication. So far, and after many years and much expenditure, that hasn’t yet happened.

113

Many times in my life in farming I have witnessed our cows on hot summer days galloping across our fields, gadding, and jumping over fences with their tails in the air, until they arrived at the farmyard, where they would have to be tied up in the house for the rest of the day, with the consequent loss of milk yield. What, you may wonder would, cause them to do such a thing, and risk injuring themselves. What but to try and get away from the notorious warble fly, the female of whom would lay her eggs on the hairs of their legs and feet. After a few days these eggs would turn into maggots and bore into the animals’ skin and travel through the body, emerging beneath the animal’s back from December onwards, giving rise to little lumps. They would eventually bore through and fall to the ground, where they would turn into flies and continue the cycle once more. In 1963 the government of the day decided that our country would be better off without this destructive pest and initiated an intensive voluntary campaign to get rid of them. This was continued in 1964 with a good response and 2,100,000 cattle were treated with the new organophosphorus dressing, carried out by staff from the AI Stations. Subsequently the government issued The Warble Fly Order 1971, which provided that in future all cattle offered for sale must be accompanied by official warble treatment certificates, or other documents, as prescribed in the Order. In other words treatment was now compulsory. It would continue for a few more years until the warble fly was no more, one of the best developments in my life in farming. I was 17 years of age before we got our first vet in Killorglin, Donal Prendiville, who came to us from Castleisland in 1949. He went on to give many years of devoted service to the farming community, and in particular people like myself who were engaged in dairy farming. So how did generations of farmers manage before the vets came? For one thing, the animals in those days were more robust, weren’t high yielders so weren’t so prone to stress-related ailments like today’s animals. And then there were some knowledgeable men in most communities who could deal with basic situations like taking the afterbirth from calved cows. In my own case I can remember a vet coming once from Killarney to see a sick horse. Artificial Insemination (AI) I remember as a child accompanying my father as he brought a cow to the bull, a journey of about two miles. Subsequently the bull moved nearer home and eventually was replaced altogether for many farmers by Artificial Insemination. This was a system whereby semen from the best bulls in the country was made available to farmers. For dairy farmers like myself, our focus would be mainly on the Friesians. These bulls would be progeny tested, meaning the evaluation of a bull’s breeding merit, based on the records of a sample of his offspring. This is regarded as the most accurate measure of a bull’s worth and would lead in turn to greatly increased yields in the dairy herd. They would also improve the physical makeup of the animals. The A.I. service commenced in Kerry in 1951 and was operated at that time by the Dairy Disposal Company and was based in Castleisland. To use the service, a farmer would simply leave a message at his local creamery and the inseminator would call out later. The first inseminator for this area was the late Tom Doyle (father of the well-known historian of the same name from Upper Bridge Street). His yellow Volkswagen car, with the words “Castleisland CBC” printed on the sides, was a common sight on the roads around here in the 1950s as he travelled from farm to farm. Over the years it became widespread – figures published show that in 1971 eighty-five per cent of all calves born in Kerry, both Beef and Dairy, were bred from A.I. bulls. The number of bulls of the various breeds standing at Castleisland Station in 1972 was as follows:

114

Beef breeds; Hereford 9. Charollais 2, Aberdeen Angus 6, Simental 3. Dual Purpose; Friesian18, Kerry 3, Shorthorn 7, Jersey 1. Some of the Friesian bulls standing at Castleisland A.I. station, which I used were possessed of exotic names such as Doreward Myra’s Parader 2nd, Eynsford Cloadema, Hunday Fantasy, Toftlodge Theo Supreme.

My nephew John O'Neill hugging donkey (Jedsie). He was a son of my brother Jimmy.

Grassland Management According to a report published by Kerry Committee of Agriculture in 1973, 94 per cent of the total arable land in Kerry was devoted to grassland. Memory tells me that grazing land in our farm didn’t get any artificial fertiliser, that was the way in many farms at the time, it was taken that the grass would keep growing naturally. Crops would be fertilised with potato manure and the meadows would get something also. It wasn’t until later in life that I was given to understand that all land needs to be fertilised on a regular basis, if it is to produce to its full potential. Soil testing was coming in at this time also, this would give an accurate indication of the soil requirement, and so avoid over- or under-use of fertiliser or lime. Grants were available also for land reclamation. Reseeding of old pastures was also being recommended, with a view to increasing grass yield. Pasture management also has an important role to play. It was the practice at the time to let cattle wander over the fields in an uncontrolled way. My first experience of controlled grazing happened around 1960 with the use of the electric fence – a single strand of wire through which an electric shock pulsed. In the beginning the animals passed through it, but they soon learned to keep away. The idea was to give a portion of a field to the animals and, when grazed, to move the wire forward. This was later replaced with paddock grazing where the farm would be divided into plots of equal size, again using the electric fence, and the animals would spend twenty-four or thirty-six hours in each paddock, the idea being to have fresh grazing as much as possible. A portion of the farm would have to

115

be set aside for winter fodder – silage – in my case there would be two cuts, one in the end of May and the other in August. A farm roadway would be laid, this to keep traffic of animals and machinery off the grass. There is a disused lime kiln on my farm. These lime kilns were once commonplace in Ireland in the 18th,19th and 20th centuries, and continued in use in some places until the 1940s. I don't remember ours in use. These kilns, square in shape, were built of stone or brick, bonded with 'daub' or lime mortar, and consisted of a circular burning chamber in the centre. In our case this measured about eight feet across and about ten feet deep, with an opening at the bottom called an eye. An iron grate would be laid over the eye for the burning process. The lime to be burned would first have to be broken down by hammer into pieces about the size of a man's fist, before being transported by horse and cart from the quarry to the kiln. First into the chamber would a layer of combustible material-coal timber or turf. Then a layer of the broken lime stones and so on until the chamber was full, with alternate layers of lime and fire material. The fire would then be lit from the bottom and would burn for four days reaching a temperature of 900 degrees C and would make powder of the lime stones. When the process was complete the powdered lime could be extracted from the eye of the kiln. The lime was used mainly on the land to sweeten it and lighten heavy clay soils, but it had other uses as well, like whitewashing dwelling houses or outhouses, as a disinfectant, or prevention of disease in apple trees. Education. Education in its many forms would play a major role in the development of Irish farming at this time. The Winter Farm School was a new concept in farmer education, when it was introduced to Kerry in 1959/60. It was designed for young people about to set out on a life in farming and who would be taking over the home farm eventually. It was promoted by the Kerry Committee of Agriculture. These schools were held two days a week in the afternoon, for approximately six weeks before Christmas and six weeks after over a two year period, and were highly recommended by the committee. The first two, Listowel and Killorglin, were held in 1959/60, in conjunction with Kerry Vocational Education Committee, in whose schools they were held at that time. In the winters of 1965/’66/’67 RTE transmitted their Telefis Feirme Programmes, that were devised to educate the viewers on various matters to do with agriculture. Group discussion would take place after the broadcast. The late Sean Callanan, teacher, arranged for the broadcast and discussion groups to be held in the old tech in Killorglin. Certificates would be presented to all those who completed the programme by Head of Agricultural Programmes, RTE, Justin Keating, who later went on to become a Government Minister. Sean Callanan would also organise lectures and the showing of films dealing with farming topics. One that I remember had to do with the new Ferguson tractor complete with its three-point linkage and hydraulic lift. The importance of the wife’s role in family farm life was recognised also at that time, by the introduction of the Farm Home Management (FHM) Advisory Service in 1963. Its function was to look at the problems of farming through the eyes of the farmer’s wife. The Farm Home Advisory Service was introduced to Kerry in 1965. In addition, the informal educational programmes carried out by voluntary rural organisations played a very important role in the education of young farmers. Macra na Feirme was founded in 1944 for educational, cultural and social activity in the agricultural community. Muintir na Tire was founded by the late Canon Hayes in 1937 for the improvement of the cultural, social and economic phases of parish life.

116

Macra na Tuaithe is a national Youth Organisation (12-17 years) to provide an out-ofschool programme of recreation and education for its members. The farming organisations, though not strictly educational, had an important role to play also. The Irish Creamery Milk Suppliers Association (ICMSA) started in 1950. The National Farmers’ Association – later Irish Farmers Association (IFA) – campaigned for rights of farmers. As well, the Irish Agricultural Organisation Society (IAOS) devoted itself to market development for agricultural products. The Agricultural Advisory Service, operated by the County Agricultural Committee, had a major influence on my life as a farmer. These advisers, dedicated people, would come to my farm on many occasions, to offer on the spot advice on various developments that were taking place there at the time. They would also arrange visits to other farms to see developments going on there. In time they would arrange visits to my farm to see what was happening there also. All these educational services had a major influence on the development of Irish farming and helped us to be ready for our membership of the EEC. As well, Kerry Co-op had set up its Farm Services Department under the management of Kerry footballer Tim “Tiger” Lyons. Its role was to help farmers to modernise and upgrade their farm facilities, improve milk quality and increase productivity. With regard to milk quality, this was becoming increasingly important on account of our entry to the EEC. Accordingly, a joint effort was made by the County Agricultural Advisory Service and Kerrykreem to bring about an improvement in this area. With that end in view, a milk quality scheme was introduced, and a bonus would be offered to milk suppliers who passed the “Methylene Blue” test. After a period of great prosperity, the Irish dairy industry was now entering a period of retrenchment. As already mentioned, farmers were forced to dispose of many of their animals under the disease eradication schemes. This, coming on top of the quota restrictions imposed by the EEC, was having a severe impact on their incomes. This led to a dramatic reduction in the number of suppliers from 7,300 in 1978 to 5,800 in 1982 and was unfair in the sense that the quota figure was based on the 1983 supply – which was itself low. The number of suppliers would never again return to the 1978 figure. But there were many reasons for this. Good jobs were available to a well-educated population, and the many small holders were either letting their land or adopting other farming enterprises, or simply did not want to be tied down to a twice-daily milking regime. For instance, in my own surrounding area there are now five milk suppliers where once there were forty.

117

First silage-1968. My Brother-in-Law Michael Griffin with pike, Eta (my wife), Jimmy and Mary Hannon (children) with their mother, my sister Eileen. I should now mention my wife Eta, who joined the team in 1961, and who came from a

farming background herself. We worked side by side until we retired from farming in or about the year 2000. The story outlined here covers the major events that defined that life, from the set patterns of my childhood to the rapid changes that occurred later. The coming together of our entry to the EEC and the formation of Kerry Co-op, around the same time, were the main drivers of that great change. Acknowledgements In the writing of this story I had recourse to two publications, namely: Irish Agriculture Nationalised by Michael O’Fathartaigh and The Kerry Way by James J. Kennelly. I wish to record my appreciation for the help given. Patrick O’Neill

About the Author Some biographical information is given in the text – primarily in the opening and closing sections. A list of organisations with which Patrick was involved in during his life follows: Member of The Pioneer Total Abstinence Association, devoted to promotion of moderation in the consumption of alcoholic drink. A member of the Laune Pipe Band. Member of the FCA-Forsa Cosanta Aitiul. Member of Killorglin Cumann of Fianna Fail. Wrote a short history of the Party to mark its 70th anniversary. Member of St. Joseph's Young Priests' Society, devoted to promotion of vocations to the Priesthood and Religious Life. Member of the CYMS committee. Involved in the first remodelling of the Hall and promotion of dances. Member of Killorglin Community Council, promoting local development.

118

FAREWELL TO THE OLD OISÍN 1938-1999 Peter Joy 2005 1 In the year nineteen and thirty-eight Men were busy on the Boggy Road. They were building a palace of escape For all who bore a heavy load Of hardship and misery. No work and on the dole, They were times that really tried A lot of people’s souls. 2 We came from humble dwellings To escape the toils of day To be soothed with the balm dispensed By that great Wizard “Duffy” Shea. When Shinner* from his cubicle Lit up the silvery screen. On a wooden plank for fourpence We sat and shaped our dreams. 3 That plank was a magic carpet Which brought us to distant climes. Far away from the rain on the Boggy Road We forgot about Hard Times. From Kansas to the Emerald City We danced on highways of yellow bricks. While on a trip to Casablanca We made a point to stop at Rick’s. “Everybody stops at Rick’s” “Here’s looking at you, Kid”. 4 We were transported by James A. Fitzpatrick To many a tropical paradise. Carmen Miranda with her fruity hat Sang her famous “Yi-Yi-Yi-Yis”. Gracie Fields sang us songs of hope Like “Let the World Go By”. They helped us through the hard times And filled our hearts with joy. Continued overleaf

119

5 Charley Chan and Mr. Moto Solved a thousand crimes. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson They always did likewise. Old Judge Hardy counselled Andy On the rights and wrongs. George Formby with his ukulele Sang for us his happy songs. 6 We were there the night that Cagney cried While going to the electric chair. Fr. Pat O’Brien was by his side Reciting the final prayer. Along the death row cell block You couldn’t hear a moan. In his cell a black man sang “Coming for to carry me home”. 7 We rode the range with Roy Rogers, Gene Autry and Buck Jones. We followed bouncing balls with songs That we whistled on our way home. We feasted in Sherwood Forest With Robin Hood and his Merry Men. We thought that we would never see A hungry day again. 8 From the many, many exiles Who wandered far away, We owe a long-belated thanks To Patrick “Duffy” Shea (RIP). For the space on that magic carpet When we left our wee abodes And showing us wonders of the world Far beyond the Boggy Road. 9 Now I’m told that on that hallowed spot They’re going to build a bank Where Jesse James once robbed them all Along with his brother Frank. Well, Duffy and the great old stars Like the Oisín have all passed on. But the memories that they left us Will forever linger on and on and on. *Michael “Shinner” Carroll, projectionist at the old Oisín

120

About the Author Peter Joy was born in Killorglin in 1928. His father was Paddy Joy, a blacksmith in the Fair Field. Peter emigrated to England in 1949, where he spent a few years. He then went to the USA, where he remained for the rest of his life. His heart never left his homeland and his native place. He penned many poems and songs down through the years; the most famous of which is our anthem “The Wild Flower of the Laune”. He returned home to Killorglin often over the years to renew his acquaintances with close friends. Peter lived in Providence, Rhode Island, where he became very well known. He had a band with his brother Pat and Hugh O’Neill of Caragh Lake; and they travelled widely up and down the East coast of the USA. He had his own radio programme in Rhode Island for a long number of years. Peter married and raised his family in America. He passed away in Florida in 2010.

View of Iveragh Road showing the “Old Oisín” Cinema, taken from the Railway station.

121

A Celebration of the Calendar Year in Killorglin Michael Houlihan If one were to ask which particular branch of folk tradition most widely reveals the panorama of the whole, the answer would undoubtedly be calendar custom. Calendar custom is deeply influenced by environment, by climate, by the fertility of the soil, by the proximity of such geographical features as the sea, rivers, lakes, mountains, and moors. It is intimately connected with the daily and yearly routine of work. It is associated with travel and trade. It bears upon the social traditions of the community and upon the individual lives of the community’s members. It embodies devotional and religious practices, divination, healing, mythology, and magic. It abounds in explanatory tale and legend, historical allusion, and pious parable, and includes all manner of amusements, sports, and pastimes.”

Kevin Danaher, The Year in Ireland, 1972 We have, it seems, been measuring time for thousands of years in Kerry. Ancient field monuments, stone circles and alignments spread across the county and on into west Cork give witness to our ancestors’ preoccupation with marking the year’s passing. In the most rudimentary of ways, the mathematicians and astronomers of the Neolithic Age were plotting the skies. In our current era however, the once indomitable folk calendar with all its rich traditions and practices has been faltering. Customs, both formal and informal, are being forgotten or ignored. The reason for this may be ‘modernization’. While it may be unavoidable, it is happening very quickly. Calendar customs help build the structure of the year and keep us reminded of where we are in the solar cycle. Original calendar events were constructed around the seasons in the pre-Christian past. When weather and crop yield directly determined the fortunes and welfare of people over the winter months, calendar ceremonies buoyed the farmer in his work of sowing, reaping and harvesting. The native Celts had their own calendar long before the European one took precedence. Several remaining customs reflect this. The Irish, for example, always began their religious festivals at sunset on the eve of the feast day (they counted nights, not days and connected to both moon and sun cycles). When Christianity arrived in the fifth century, it began to absorb the existing Irish calendar customs into its own festivals. In time, the Church became arbiter of the calendar year, setting religious events on key dates. The mediaeval Christian calendar was densely packed with saints’ days and New Testament remembrances. They were only trimmed after the Reformation. A major wobble occurred in late 1751 when the English administration in Ireland reluctantly decided to follow the rest of Europe and replace the Julian calendar with Pope Gregory’s model. Consequently, the adjusted 1752 calendar lost about 11 days. The old harvest god Lugh had his feast day bounced from the first to the 11th of August. Hence, the modern Puck Fair dates. There are still many religious feast days in the year. We will set them aside here except where they have a social or community dimension. We will also follow the European rather than the Celtic year in our brief look at Killorglin’s calendar customs. Some of the listed days have now faded, while others are more prominent in other parts of the county. Let’s start with January 1st – New Year’s Day.

122

Jan 1st – New Year’s Day: New Year’s Day tends to be one of the great anti-climactic days of the year. Do you remember the damp squib that was the Millennium New Year in 2000? They can keep the next one. Most people are burnt out and flat broke by New Year’s Day. They have been out revelling the evening before and, for the remainder of the first day, they don’t want to know anything more about the year. They tend to stay indoors in case they meet anyone loud and boisterous. By evening, they are just about ready for ‘the hair of the dog’. One of the few remaining local customs, much diminished, is for young girls to visit Rossbeigh beach. Here the Tonn Toime, the waves created by Oisín and Niamh’s horse as it sped the lovers across the waters to Tír na nÓg, can be seen. If a girl yearning for love casts a wish-stone into the frothing waters on this day, she will get to meet her suitor within twelve months. Jan 6th – Epiphany/Nollaig na mBan: Epiphany or the Feast of the Three Kings was once a significant religious day. It continues in importance in parts of Europe where it is the day for exchanging gifts. In the Eastern Church, it is considered the day of Christ’s nativity. Known in Kerry as Nollaig na mBan or Women’s Christmas, it is the traditional day when women, who are the architects of (Big) Christmas, are allowed a day off. For the duration, the hapless men take over home duties. The festival is again growing in significance and celebration throughout Ireland. Feb 1st – Lá le Bríde/Imbolc: This is the second of the Celtic quarter days and the first day of the Celtic spring. The festival is dedicated to Brigit, the 6th century patron of Ireland, who is said to have displaced Brigid, the pagan goddess. (This is not at all certain, as the saint seems to precede the goddess in the literature). The day is also called Imbolc or ‘im bolg’ (in the stomach or womb) signifying the lactating ewes due to lamb shortly. Brigit is thought of as the keeper of the hearth, with folk prayers offered to her when securing the fire. Honey, milk and oatcakes were the traditional foods of the day. There is still a lot of energy and veneration in this festival locally. An effigy of the saint, the Brídeóg, is paraded around the community by the ‘Biddy Boys’, generally dressed in white with elaborate straw hats, so every home receives the blessings of the saint. The tradition is especially strong in the Reeks area, including Kilgobnet and Glencar. Here locals have celebrated the festival for untold generations.

Feb 2nd – Candlemas: The day celebrates both the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple and the Purification of the Virgin Mary. People would bring candles to church to be blessed and then take them home for special occasions. It is associated in Ireland with Brigid’s Day, as another translation of Imbolc is ‘im fholc’ – washing, cleansing or possibly purification. Feb 14th – Valentine’s Day: This is a spring festival, originating in Rome in the third century. Valentine has several nominations as to who was the original saint. He has always been associated with romance with, oddly, Cupid the old Roman god of love keeping him company. A day for roses, wine, candlelit dinners and cringe-inducing greeting cards – you know the routine.

123

March 17th – Lá le Padraig: The feast day of our national saint, where culture, nationalism and religion meet. Patrick was a 5th century missionary from the east coast of Romano-Britain. He is commemorated as the first to spread the Christian faith throughout Ireland, which he achieved without striking a blow. We still have some of his historical writings in his Confessio. A wonderful protection prayer called The Deer’s Cry, with lots of pre-Christian imagery is also credited to Patrick. He is strongly associated with the shamrock and the colour green, which Irishmen have worn with pride and distinction on many foreign battlefields. There were, for example, the green uniformed Irish soldiers in the Napoleonic wars and the San Patricio battalion in the Mexican–American War of 1846–48.

Shrove Tuesday – Skelligs Day: This is the Tuesday before the start of Lent. I mention it here because there was a much-localised custom until recent years called Skelligs Day. Here schoolboys would chase the girls and attempt to ‘kidnap’ them. This children’s game is based on the refusal of the Irish Church to accept the Roman ecclesiastical calendar in 664AD. Consequently, Lent started later in Ireland, including at the Celtic monastery on Skellig Michael. There was a universal ban on marriage during Lent, however a determined suitor could take his bride-to-be to Sceilg and be married there before the Irish Lent commenced. Considering that the last monks left the Skellig in the thirteenth century, this south Kerry custom must be of great antiquity. I do not know if there are any vestiges of the custom remaining. I hope so. April 1st- April Fool’s Day: An internationally observed day when hoaxes and practical jokes are played by the public on each other, in the best of good humour. May 1st – Bealtaine: The third of the Celtic quarter days. It is a day closely aligned with the seasons and agriculture. ‘Thugamar féin an samhradh linn’ – we welcome summer and have many traditions to ensure good fortune, particularly in dairy and animal husbandry. Individuals hang greenery on the front door or over the milking parlour. The tradition of placing a ‘Maybush’ outside the house is still widely practiced, particularly in the southeast and in the midlands. In Killorglin, it was not uncommon to see a branch of sycamore or whitethorn pinned to front doors until recent years. May also sees an explosion of glorious white blossoms on the Sceach Geal, the whitethorn bush. This tree is strongly associated with the Sidhe, the fairy folk and is rarely disturbed. The indoor May altar was a feature of homes, kept supplied with fresh wildflowers for the month by the children.

124

June 23rd – Midsummer Eve/St. John’s Eve: Now best known as Bonfire night, it marks the ancient celebration of the summer solstice. Once a pastoral gathering to acknowledge the role of the sun in creating the harvest, it is now dedicated to John the Baptist. In Kerry, it was associated with the Munster goddess Áine. It appears to have long ended in Killorglin but is still popular on the Dingle peninsula. Bonfire night continues to be huge in many parts of the country but unusually not Dublin, (they try burning that city down at Halloween!). This perhaps indicates its country roots.

August 1st – Lughnasadh: The fourth and last of the Celtic quarter days. The month was a time of celebration, especially when the Irish people depended so heavily on the potato. The hungry period before harvest was forgotten as the early potatoes were dug and consumed. The month is named after Lugh, the harvest god and an important personage in the Celtic pantheon. Visits to hills and the picking of bilberries (fraughans) were key aspects of the tradition. A fraughan cake was baked to celebrate the day. Drung Hill, west of Glenbeigh is an old Lughnasa site. Due to a calendar change in Ireland in 1751, ‘Lewy’s Day’ moved to the 11th of the month. It is still celebrated in Killorglin with King Puck. 29th September – Michaelmas: Michaelmas or Saint Michael’s Day was once very important in the rural calendar. The day was dedicated to Michael the Archangel and considered a day of festivity. It remains strong in the Ballinskelligs area, with visits and mass at St. Michaels Well, once venerated by the Skellig monks. Michael is the soldier-general of Christ and the one who overcame demons. A dinner of ‘Michaelmas goose’ was the centrepiece of the day.

1st November – Samhain/All Souls/Halloween: Samhain, also All Saints Day, is the first of the quarter days in the Celtic calendar and the beginning of the Celtic Year. There is a crowded schedule in the early days of the Irish winter. In the past, the Celts lit the first fires of winter on the Hill of Ward/Tlachgtha at Samhain. Torchbearers then relayed the flame across the land, passing it from one lighted brand to another. Before perfecting harvest techniques and the storage of grass (hay) over winter, surplus animals were slaughtered at Samhain amid great feasting. Irish people firmly believed that the dead visited on Samhain night. In modern times, there was a tradition of placing a candle in the window to guide spirits home, leaving out three glasses of freshly collected spring water for them.

125

This belief in the thinning of the veil between living and dead led to the now popular Halloween. Not long ago in Killorglin, the night was celebrated as ‘Snap-apple Night’, mostly based in the home. An bairín breach/the barmbrack or the ‘speckled loaf’, containing oodles of dried autumn fruits, is still a favourite.

10th November – Martinmas Eve: The old Roman soldier Saint Martin of Tours was an icon for many in Ireland and still is across Europe. On the eve of his feast day, people would sacrifice a small animal or farm bird at the threshold of the home (cos amuigh agus cos eile istigh) and spill its blood at the four corners of the house for protection. It’s a strange custom to modern eyes. Like all old customs however, there was nothing gratuitous about it. Once common in Ireland, the last remnants were to be seen in Clare about 20 years ago. December 25th- Nollaig/Christmas: A festival still going strong. Placed a few days after the winter solstice, it was formalised by the Council of Tours in 567AD. At first, it was a predominantly religious feast day in Ireland and later a secular festival, probably made popular by the Anglo-Normans in the thirteenth century. Most of our Killorglin traditions – eating salted fish on Christmas Eve, decorating the byre with foliage, placing a large slow-burning block of timber at the back of the hearth – have been lost over the years. The one still just about hanging on is ‘the great candle of Christmas’ or ‘Coinneal Mór na Nollag’. The single lighted candle in the window, inviting those passing to partake of Kerry hospitality on Christmas Eve is still observed. December 26th – Lá le Stiofán/Lá an Dreoilín: Saint Stephen, for whom the day is named, was the first Christian martyr. Folklore has it that, when hiding from the Romans, he was betrayed by the chirping of a wren. A second and equally engaging story is that the wren became the ‘King of the Birds’ by using his wits. He won a contest as the greatest flyer of all the birds by sneaking a ride in the tail feathers of the eagle. When the eagle flew highest and could fly no higher, the wren emerged and flew above him, making him champion. Either way, the wren, amongst the smallest of our birds, has been paying the price for his fame over countless generations – hunted, killed and brought on display in a holly bush by the ‘Wrenboys’. Some folklorists assert that the wren tradition is a means of honouring nature at winter’s heart, in the form of the diminutive wren-king. The wren tradition is genuinely ancient, genuinely our own. It is sad to see us losing it. To the west, the Cahirciveen beagles can be heard baying in the hills around Foilmore on this day, as the traditional drag hunt takes place.

126

Our generation, for all kinds of reasons, is failing to pass on the rich traditions of our own place to the young. I would make a plea for their continuance, if only in tribute to those who maintained the customs for us. These folkways are an essential part of who we are. A glance at the folk calendar shows how many we have already lost or are on the point of losing. What is certain is that once they are gone, they can never be retrieved. We barely have time. About the Author Michael Houlihan is a Killorglin native, now living in County Clare. He remains active as a member of Killorglin History and Folklore Society and the Brigit’s Day Organising Committee. With a career in pharmaceuticals, he has pursued other interests including a Diploma in Archaeology and an MA in Local History. He wrote his first book ‘The History and Traditions of Puck Fair in 1999. Since then he has also published ‘The Holy Wells of County Clare’ (2015), ‘The Sacred Trees of County Clare’ (2016), ‘An Nollaig, An Irish Christmas Reader’ (2017) and ‘In Search of the Dreamtime in County Clare’ (2018). He now works seasonally with the Heritage Service in Clare and continues to write, mostly on Irish folklore.

127

Sisters Forever Eileen McGillycuddy We looked for you in the windows high As we stood in the street that night. The bar was closed, the door was shut The town was still with fright. That was the news in the early morn When the men saw the smoke and the flame. They tried their best but you were already at rest In that pub where the sign held your name. The songs and the stories of the men from Glencar Who stood shoulder to shoulder in the lovely old bar. There was music and song in the parlour upstairs Which was used by the singers who came to the fairs. Tom O’Shea told the stories like a good seanachai And Edso sang sweetly of Mother Mo Chroí. The accordion was played by our own Brendan Breen While Michael Aherne played the banjo so keen. In the house of O’Shea, written over the door We remember the nights with music galore. Where Rhetta and Ann served drinks with a smile To people and friends who stopped by for a while. God called you away on the first day of June Sisters forever but gone far too soon. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust And to go when God calls, we surely must. Always remembered by your Langford Street friends. About the Author Eileen was born in Waterville in 1937. She had 4 brothers and 2 sisters. Her father was Garda Peter Gill, from Inismor, Aran Island. Co. Galway; and her mother was a Fitzgerald from Clahane, Brandon. They walked to school when young, a mile and a half trek, and got their lunch in school. Mick Dwyer always walked with them. Her father got a transfer to Killorglin and spent the next 20 years on duty there. Eileen, aged 19 years, married Christy McGillycuddy and worked the shop in the Square, with his Mother and Father She sold tea and sugar, ladies shoes and men’s boots and Wellington’s. They had 10 children – 7 daughters and 3 boys. She now lives in a private house with 9 of her children living very near to her, and counts herself “a lucky Grannie”! Eileen is a very active member of Women 2000 (formerly the ICA) and of Killorglin Active Retirement Association.

128

THE ‘SALE’ OF DOOKS GOLF CLUB 1963-1965 Declan Mangan Golf has been played in Scotland for over 250 years. The game was brought to Ireland by the Military in 1883, and the first golf club was formed in the Curragh. The Royal Horse Artillery came to Glenbeigh in the late 1880s and used the excellent sand dunes and beach to practice their artillery skills. Some of them must have been golfers because they ‘discovered’ the natural facilities for playing the game of golf, and the first ball was hit in 1889 – making Dooks one of the ten oldest golf clubs in Ireland. In 1895 a special ‘halt’ was put on the railway line near Glenbeigh, and Dooks Station soon became a mecca for golfers from all over Munster who wanted to sample the wonderful golf amenity at Dooks. Special golf matches were arranged with Cork Golf Club, which was founded in 1888. This strong bond still exists between the two clubs. The Caragh and Dooks Golf Club (later called Glenbeigh, Caragh and Dooks, then Dooks and Caragh Golf Club and, finally, Dooks Golf Club) was played on land leased from the Beresford McGregor Estate. The 99-year lease was due to expire in 1964 and, to their shock and dismay, the members learned that the owners wished to sell the land. It was rumoured that a hotel group was interested in turning the public amenity of Dooks into a private golf course and beach. The members started a national campaign to fight the sale, and hereunder is an account of the saga as described in the Club’s “DOOKS: 100 Years of Golf” booklet, published to mark the Club’s Centenary in 1989. The author wishes to acknowledge the help that Gearoid O’Sullivan, Sheila Burke and others gave in putting the original booklet together.

The Sale of Dooks Saga – 1963 First mention of the takeover saga, which was to occupy national headlines for the next two years, was at the committee meeting of 14th June 1963. The Captain (and acting Hon. Sec.) Michael Heron read a letter from the agents for the Beresford McGregor Estate asking that arrangements be made to hand over possession of Dooks. Mr. Tadgh O’Reilly (former Hon. Sec.) gave some information on what happened about the original 99-year lease. He said that the lease had been drawn up but had not been signed by the lessors, M/S Beresford & McGregor. For that reason he had refused to pay the agreed rent of £30. On a committee decision, he had lodged same in his name and in the name of Mr. Browne, Solicitor, to a suspense account for a number of years. Mr. O’Reilly also pointed out that there were no leases or agreements (written) prior to 1950, when the first lease of 7 years was signed. Mr. Downing (Club Solicitor) stated that the position was serious. Mr. Downing took with him the letter of the agent and the copy of the agreement, and was instructed to seek renewal of the lease and, failing that, what price they would sell the club for. This meeting also decided to conduct a vigorous publicity campaign on behalf of the club.

129

As part of this campaign, letters were sent to various public figures, State agencies etc. a deputation consisting of J. A. O’Dwyer, C. A. Foley, Henry Dodd, M. Hernon, Maurice Roche, Mr. Downing and Dr. W. O’Sullivan (Killarney and an honorary life member of Dooks) was appointed to meet with Bord Failte on July 2nd, 1963. This deputation was very favourably received by Bord Failte. PRESS CONFERENCE On the 24/6/63 the committee met in the clubhouse in Killarney and the President, Mr. J. P. O’Shea asked for consideration of the letter received from the agents giving Dooks Golf Club notice to hand over possession. A press conference was arranged for Killarney Golf Club on 27/6/63 at which all the daily and weekly papers were represented. Mr. M. Roche, PRO, gave a history of the Club since it was established in 1889. Dr. W. O’Sullivan said that never since the time of the famine had Absentee Landlordism evidenced itself so much, as in the case of Dooks GC who had been in occupation for 75 years and now, without option of making an offer for the property, have got an order to quit. Other speakers spoke in the same vein and the press representatives assured the Club of their wholehearted support in their fight against this injustice.

Press conference in Dooks 27th July 1963. The “Save Dooks” campaign is launched Newspaper cutting courtesy of The Pa Houlihan Collection

130

PUBLIC MEETING The next step in the campaign was a public meeting held in Dooks on 1/7/63. Mr. Roche stated that the objects of the meeting were: (a) To ascertain the feelings of the local residents and the general public about the order to quit (b) To discuss any suggested means of fighting for the just rights of the Golf Club, the lessees of the local and adjoining fishery and the local lessee of the Golf Links grazing (c) To investigate any possible help, financial or otherwise, which might be expected from the locality in the event of the Club getting an opportunity to purchase the property Among the speakers was Col. J. Hanafin, the oldest resident, who stated that. as a boy of 14 years of age, he played golf in Dooks in 1896. He pleaded at all costs to retain the facility as a source of pleasure and enjoyment for the local people as well as the many tourists who play there. Mr. Joseph Conway (local farmer) voiced a contrary opinion, but Major Gooding (local resident), Ernie Evans (Towers Hotel), Ted Clifford (Chairman, Killarney UDC), Dr. W. O’Sullivan, Mr. W. Condon (Provincial Bank and former Captain) and Mr. T. (Chub) O’Connor TD all spoke in support of the Club. A major concern was that the identity of the group involved in the takeover was unknown. Popular opinion was that a continental hoteling concern wished to turn the public amenity of Dooks into a private golf course and beach, but this was never confirmed. The overall mood of the meeting was that every effort would be made to ensure that the magnificent facility of Dooks would not be lost to the members. Over the next few months the ‘takeover’ was the main topic of meetings, but other business went on as usual – Dr. W. O’Sullivan established a new course record of 65, Paud Roche was employed to keep the Greens in proper condition at a weekly wage of £2.10.0 and Telefis Eireann indicated that they would be sending a unit to Dooks on 10/8/63. Telefis did turn up and we were all as proud as punch seeing ourselves in the background as Maurice Roche told the nation of the precarious position of our beloved Dooks. To raise money for the new “Fighting Fund”, Development Bonds at £5 per unit were offered to members and the general public. By the end of the year, over £2,500 had been collected. Things were looking good. At the AGM of 31/1/64, Tadgh O’Reilly, long-time Hon. Sec. was made an Honorary Life Member, Henry Dodd was elected Captain and Family Membership was increased to £8.8.0. At a subsequent meeting it was decided to make an offer of £4,500 for the property. Much of the business of the next few months dealt with the Development Bonds and the proposed purchase of the property. An Exhibition fourball was arranged for Dooks with well-known professionals Christy Green and Nicky Lynch, and Killarney internationals Dr. W. O’Sullivan and Michael Guerin. (These arrangements were made at the meeting of 10/9/64, and I note that the following handicap adjustments were made at the same meeting: Tadgh O’Reilly 11 to 9, Declan Mangan 20 to 18, Brendan Mangan 10 and the evergreen Jimmy O’Donoghue 7. It was nice to be mentioned in the same dispatches as those distinguished golfers!).

131

An historic special general meeting was held on 25/9/64. Those present were: J. P. O’Shea (President), H. Dodd (Captain), Dr. W. O’Sullivan, Dr. J. Dixon, Col. Hanafin, Mrs. P. McIntosh, C. A. Foley, P. J. Foley, J. Mangan, Dec. Mangan, T. O’Reilly, B. O’Reilly, J. Roche, E. Evans, J. A. O’Dwyer, J. O’Donoghue, M. Hernon and M. Roche (PRO).

Public Meeting in Dooks July 1963. “Public Opinion” sides with Dooks. M. Roche, Dr. W. O’Sullivan, J. P. O’Shea, Chub O’Connor TD, M. Hernon

132

Dooks on Telefis Eireann 1963. Dr. W. O’Sullivan, P. Roche, John O’Donoghue (RTE), Col. Hanafin, M. Roche.

PROPOSAL TO PURCHASE M. Roche read a letter from the club’s solicitors re purchase price, and Dr. W. O’Sullivan added that Bord Failte had agreed to pay the difference between the Club offer and the purchase price. It was formally proposed “that Mr. Downing negotiate with Mr. Browne (solicitor) for the purchase of the property inclusive of the present clubhouse site and the field in front of either side of the entrance drive to the entrance gates, and to the seafront on the West and North-West sides”. This was carried unanimously. At last the wheels were beginning to turn. AGM 1965 The AGM of the 17/2/65 has particular significance for me. J. B. Prendiville was elected Captain and yours truly was voted in as Hon. Sec. I little realized what I was letting myself in for but, deeming it to be a singular honour, I gladly accepted the position. Life has never been the same since. As the new Captain J. B. Prendiville was resident in Dublin, the new Chairman, C. A. Foley was very active in the important months that lay ahead. At our first committee meeting we received detailed instructions, by letter, from the Captain, and the following decisions were made:

133

(a) improve drainage (b) new Clubhouse – proposed sites to be sent to Bord Failte (c) greens to be measured and sprayed (d) for the first time ever Dooks were to purchase a motor mower for the greens (price £86.10.0) (e) gang mower to be priced (f) greens committee and handicap committee to be elected (g) wines committee scrapped (h) Hon. Sec. to take fortnightly stock of bar (i) barmaid’s hours drawn up (j) fees for the year were settled (k) new greenkeeper to be appointed What a schedule!

SAFE AT LAST At the next meeting, a letter was received from Mr. Downing, stating that agreement had been reached on the draft contract of purchase, and requesting a cheque for £1,750, the amount of the deposit to be forwarded forthwith. It was unanimously agreed to comply with the request and “the Hon. Sec. then made out the cheque for the above amount”. What a thrill! On the 29/3/65, the final chapter of the takeover saga was reached. A letter from Mr. Downing, giving details of the purchase and requesting a cheque for the balance of £5,870.5.6 was read. J. A. O’Dwyer proposed, and J. P. O’Shea seconded that a cheque for that amount should be made out immediately. There was an air of jubilation as I duly made out the cheque and our beloved Dooks was at last our own! Although a purchase price of £7,000 may sound very little today, it is well to bear in mind that Club turnover at the time was a mere £1,000 per annum, so relative to the Club’s present performance we were really being asked to come up with a present-day figure of approximately £1,200,000! Weren’t we brave men? The Contract of Sale was duly produced at the meeting of 2/4/65 and was signed by the Club Trustees. The President, C. A. Foley, proposed a vote of thanks to the Club solicitor Mr. Downing for all the work he had done on our behalf. This was seconded by the Captain, J. B. Prendiville, and was carried unanimously. The rest is history! To help pay for the purchase, the Development Bond Scheme went into full swing. Nearly £4,000 was raised on a 25-year bond (at £5 per unit) repayable in 1989. We are indebted to the many people who supported this scheme. Without their help it would have been impossible to purchase Dooks, and today’s playing membership would not now be enjoying the marvelous amenity we have at our disposal. The remainder of the money came by way of a grant from Bord Failte. J. B. Prendiville used the great influence he enjoyed in our capital city to secure this grant; and on the 29/10/65 he received a special vote of thanks for the part he played in securing this grant.

134

Declan’s postscript Since the land was purchased in 1965, Dooks has grown and grown. The 9 holes were extended by the members themselves, and Dooks became a fine 18-hole links course in 1970. Between 2002 and 2006 the entire links were redesigned by renowned golf architect Mr. Martin Hawtree; and Dooks is now played annually by nearly 10,000 overseas visitors, who delight in playing golf at this ‘hidden gem’. With a membership of over 1,000, the future of Dooks Golf Club looks very bright, and the members appreciate, acknowledge and thank the courage and foresight of the members who fought to ensure that this invaluable amenity remained in the hands of the members. Bail ó Dhia orthu go léir.

About the Author Declan Mangan was born in Killorglin in 1943 and was educated in Killorglin Boys' National School (now Scoil Mhuire), Intermediate School Killorglin and St. Patrick's Teacher Training College, Dublin. He taught in Finglas, Dublin, for just over one year and returned to teach in Scoil Mhuire, Killorglin, 1963-1999. He was Secretary/Manager in Dooks Golf Club from 19992008. From an early age Declan was always interested in the lure of the stage and was a part of the first Killorglin Pantomime in 1958. Since then, he has been involved in all of Killorglin's 57 pantomimes and has been script writer, producer and Dame since 1965. Declan has written over 40 pantomime scripts and also several school plays in Irish, some of which have won prizes at Oireachtas na Gaeilge. He published a book “Dame Declan”, to commemorate the 50th production of the panto in 2013. Declan has spent a lifetime involved in Dooks Golf Club. He was Hon. Sec.in 1965 when the Club purchased the property and was involved in the Club Committee until he became full time Manager in 1999. He is also involved with Puck Fair since he was Chairman in 1964 and again from 1988-2018. He now is Hon. President of Puck Fair Ltd.

135

The Miller of the Laune Taken from The Kerry Sentinel

Saturday Morning, February 1, 1896 OLD KERRY (By Octogenarian) “Is ibhin Laune eir madin coeig, Is ibhin fearin Locha-Lein, Is ibhin fahes Dun-a-loe, ‘S-is ibhin Aghadoe, le grein.” “Sweet is the Laune of a morning misty, And sweet the borders of fair Loch Lein, Sweet (on) the slopes of Dunloe (would a tryst be), And sweet is Aghadoe in the sunlight seen.” ‘This rhyme, familiar to natives of South and West Kerry, sets forth the most delightful spots in that region as four in number, viz. – the Laune, the borders of Loch Leane, Dunloe Lawns and Aghadoe. The enthusiastic bard, in giving the Laune as one of those delightful spots, leaves one free to choose what spot on that river he means, from Beaufort Bridge to Ballymacprior. Some specialist in scenic beauties roamed at one time to find out the spot which deserved the eulogy; and was found adjusting his notes and closing his books at the foot of the Millroad, Killorglin …………..years! aye, years!! ago. The “Millroad” suggests a “Mill” and a “Miller” too, but neither mill nor miller, nor sign nor token thereof, can be found in the place, although in the far back times the mills and the millers of Corkaguiny stood in every sense far behind the mills or millers on the Laune – Killorglin to the fore. The site of the old mill here affords a prospect at sunrise in the month of July or early in August fully justifying the eulogist in the rhyme, if the tide is full at the moment. To one who has seen the place 80 years ago, and knows what is called the present improved condition of the town and district, such improvement does not enhance the scenic beauties. He would rather go back in thought to the mill of that time, to the orchards, the fruit gardens, the fishing cots gliding over the placid river, the song of the troop of girls coming up from the river with full pails well-balanced on their heads, and the “Hurrah!” when a squad of ponies, carrying butter, dashed through the place on their way to Cork. In short, the Octogenarian would prefer “Nature’s dress” in landscape, if not entirely in other matters. The millstream coming from Farrantoreen Lake ran along the road from “Linehan’s”, and under a low arch to cross the road at Tom Jones’ corner – thence down to the cliff called “O’Flynn’s Leap”, from the fact that one O’Flynn jumped down there 10 feet or more – because he couldn’t help it.

136

The little arch was the turning point “from Iveragh to civilization” – in Killorglin phraseology – and the Iveraghans had to pay toll at the corner tavern – John Charley’s. One good fellow from the West – John used to call them all “good fellows from the West”- paid for 20 half pints of whiskey and saw the whole lot drunk without dismounting from his pony. There was, at that time, no road as there is now on either side of the river to Killarney. The way to Killarney, as well as to Tralee, lay across the bridge. At Droumavalla there was a parting – the “Droumavalla Cross” for the road to Tralee as at present; the road to Killarney on the right, away through Anglont, with its splendid orchards and substantial residence of the Foleys, away by Coraballa and Coolbawn of capital loveliness, the residence of the O’Sullivan and so on to Beaufort. All this has been changed: some disappeared; any that exists is lost to view of the travellers by change of routes. It is no wonder that the octogenarian would rather go back to the old times, and so I will ask to be allowed to return to the mill and miller of Killorglin. The miller of my time was gruff when he hadn’t two or three sups of poteen taken, and though he could put his hand on a keg of this at any moment, he would never touch a drop without company. His gruff manner was often intensified by the troops of girls carrying water who sang aloud a song then in vogue “The Cremeenagh Coum”. The millers name was Cremin. He threatened the girls in many ways. He was able, he said, to call out the Elfin forces of “Lismveeleen” close by, who would send the girls bound hand and foot to the “murdering hole” in the old castle, or transform them into wrinkled hags in a jiffy, but that he would continue to bide his time until the coming Christmas, when he would have his revenge. Why did he choose Christmas? Here is the reason – Every house of the great mass of the town’s population had at least a peek of wheat in preparation for Christmas. The peek of wheat was placed in a bag near the fire and had to be turned often in the 24 hours so that a fair share of the heat should be given all round in order to make the grain hard and dry for the mill at Christmas. The preparation of the peek of wheat near the fire was well attended to, especially by the youngsters of the family by whom all preparations for Christmas were looked at as things deserving devout attention. If the wheat wasn’t properly prepared for the mill, the sulks of the miller could scarcely be overcome, and woe to the girl who sang loudly “The Cremeenagh Coum” if her peek of wheat wasn’t in good order and what a calamity if the miller refused to grind!!! The threat of the miller became of serious import and formed matters of discussion at the ‘smithy’ where crowds used assemble in the long nights coming on Christmas. Lots of gorsoons used to gather in to get Christmas knives made. Jack Leary, the foreman journeyman smith, was a man of resources and anecdotes, and he took matters in hand for the singing girls. Jack Leary and the local poet were friends, and the poet, a man as famous in adventure as Jack himself, undertook to sooth down the miller. He procured an old newspaper and cut off a strip resembling one of the ballads of the time and went straight to the mill. The miller was glad to see him coming, opened a keg, and they had a sup or two. Maurice, the poet, then took out his ballad and, as Jack the miller could not read, Maurice had a clear stage. The poet then chanted out in the vernacular the blessings bestowed on Killorglin in having a mill. He ran out on the great fellows who held the post of miller in the place for many a year gone by, conspicuous among them Big Batt Hinley, but not until the advent of Jack Cremin was there ever such flour and cheap whiskey found in Killorglin. He finished the long ballad with a refrain accentuating the praises of “John Cremin, the miller of the Laune”. The girls were instructed to put in another

137

name instead of “The Cremeenagh Coum” in their singing, and all the wheat was found fit for milling at Christmas. The story of poteen whiskey and other contrabands stowed away in recesses in the mill got the wind, and a party of Excise assistants, headed by Frank Rowan, the officer, paid the old mill a visit. They found a little, but the “boys” of the mill road had managed to cheat the good officer of enough to load a dozen ponies.’

Note: ‘Cremin’s Mill’ was situated near to Terence Houlihan’s House; and the stream came over the Iveragh Road, under O’Grady’s/Tobin’s Corner, in front of the CYMS Hall and under the Market Road, hence the name ‘Mill Road’. The old mill stone was in the Priests’ Woods; and a sapling tree grew up through the centre and eventually burst the last remaining part of ‘Cremin’s Mill’.

138

THE DREAM THAT BECAME A SCHOOL The Intermediate School Killorglin from 1959 KEVIN GRIFFIN Douglas National School was my first Alma Mater. School life there was hard, the seats were hard, discipline even harder. Most of the boys came to school barefoot. An anxious mother insisted I wear shoes but, on the way, I would remove them and put them in a field in a rabbit burrow at the roots of a great sycamore tree till evening. Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division tables had to be committed to memory, as had spelling both in English and Irish. There was history too for the senior classes:- the Island of Saints and Scholars, the depredations of the Vikings, the arrival of the Normans, Silken Thomas, Shane O’Neill, the Nine Years War, William of Orange and others. The course of Irish History seemed to have stopped long before 1916, and we learned of the Rising when the teacher gave us a moving, oral account of the story and we saw the pictures of the leaders in the Sunday Press. The Civil War was never mentioned at school, though it was on the lips of many locals who lived through that time. The big green Catechism, as well as the text, had some frightening pictures of the devil getting near to souls whose owners had committed some mortal sin. Venial sins were to be avoided too but wouldn't damn you to eternal suffering, merely a stint in Purgatory. The Ten Commandments had to be memorised with other prayers, now long forgotten. There seemed to be no hope at all for the souls in Limbo, now no longer in existence. One day in the mid-nineteen fifties, we arrived into school to find a door had been opened through to the Holy of Holies, that was the girls’ half of the school and now there were real girls sitting on our seats, – girls with brown and black and fair hair, one in particular had red hair, glasses, a lisp and a great giggle. Soon we regarded the presence of the girls as normal and, when I got to sixth class, there were but two boys and four beautiful princesses who seemed to have come from another world. English soon became a favourite of mine. The New Ireland Reader was full of wonderful stories: Cuchulainn, The Táin, The Fianna and the Red Branch Knights and poems by Thomas Davis, and Aubrey de Vere among others. One story in particular grabbed my attention. I was in fourth class and should have been doing mental arithmetic, but the sixth class were reading “The Pass of Thermopylae” and I was almost in tears at the fate of the brave three hundred Spartans and their king, Leonidas, who took on myriads of the dastardly Persians, led by Darius, before being killed. The covers of our copy books were particularly interesting, carrying the mysterious-looking crests of the four provinces and lists of Irish battles on the back, Clontarf, Kinsale, Benburb, Aughrim. In 1959 I finished my primary education at Douglas National School which, at that time, was a thriving community of up to 120 or so pupils, if my memory serves me. Having done reasonably well in the long-discontinued Primary Certificate Examination, I was sent to the Intermediate School, Killorglin or the Carnegie, so called as it was housed in the hall of the same name, which was built earlier with funds provided by Scottish philanthropist, Andrew Carnegie, who made a fortune in the U.S. in the steel business and used this fortune to fund such buildings in Ireland and elsewhere.

139

I never had any input into the decision that made me a pupil of the I.S.K. It was taken following a short visit to our house by a very youthful Joseph. A. O'Dwyer and, after a brief conversation with my mother, my fate was decided. As a twelve-year-old, I little realised the consequences of that event on a sunny Saturday evening in July 1959. From then on the I.S.K. was an important part of my life and, in truth, continues to be, even after my retirement as a teacher in 2009. Now my mother sprang into action. She called to the house of a distant cousin who, having completed two years at the “Carnegie”, was following the path of so many and seeking her fortune in the U.S.A. My mother arrived back with an oblong leather bag made by the father and son combination of Tim and Gerald Hartnett of Langford Street, and also an imposing selection of books. One especially took my eye, hard-covered, wellSellotaped, with the title of Ceimseata Scoile, a textbook, which, as the name suggests, was in Irish and would, over the next few years, introduce us to geometry and algebra. I can now smile at my reciting Pythagoras’ theorem in Irish. Algebra was strange and confusing, as was maths in general for me, and I never mastered the intricacies of these. By now you will have realised that many subjects were taught through Irish – a fact we regarded as the norm and took it in our stride. Of course there were other Irish books, a grammar, the well-known novel Jimín, and Scéal Séadhna. Geography and History also had their texts in Irish. Imagine learning about Na Barbaraig – the Barbarians – in Irish, the story of the incursions of the Goths, Huns, Vandals and others into the Roman Empire. We soon moved on to the Athbhéocáin and the Arthú Creideamh, the Renaissance and Reformation respectively. My own favourite was Cogadh Comharbacta na Spáinne–the War of the Spanish Succession and the exploits of John Churchill, the first Duke of Marlborough and An Prionnsa Eoin, Prince Eugene of Savoy, commanders of the armies of the alliance against Louis XIV Here was the foundation of a lifelong love of history. Next came a grey-covered book, bearing the title of Longman’s Latin Grammar, Part 1, mind you. Shortly we would be immersed in a totally new world of Latin and things Roman generally. Now, vocabularies had to be learned and declensions (all five) had to be committed to memory, along with conjugations (only four), as well as the many rules that were part of the structure of the language. The rules were not too bad, but it was the exceptions that were the killer. The study of Latin bred in me a love of the Classical World, and I shudder to think how empty my life would be without a knowledge of Roman history, art and architecture, or the poetry – the Odes of Horace, Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Aeneid of Virgil. Then came the English books, in particular a big, red hard-covered one, New Intermediate Poetry, and a green-covered one, New Intermediate Prose, and a reader called The Wind in the Willows. Later would come the bible of good English – Nesfield’s English Grammar, which covered every aspect of the rules of the language. In a short time we knew the difference between “fewer” and “less” – which, by the way, a recent Minister for Education failed to demonstrate. In addition there was a French grammar and any number of Irish and Geography books. At any one time the bags might be stuffed with these and up to ten red-covered copies. The school, itself being in the Carnegie Library, had quite a number of rooms furnished with very large tables, which were originally intended for reading but now were used as desks. There were a number of large presses, with wire in the place of glass. These contained an unimaginable treasure of the best of English Literature and History. Upstairs was a concert hall with a stage. As the school expanded, this space was divided into a number of classrooms. Heating was provided by a series of large fireplaces using turf as fuel.

140

If my memory serves, there were about forty-four others in that first-year class, but many went after first year and a few more after second year. In all, just over twenty stayed on and did the Leaving Certificate Examination. This trend of just spending one or two years at secondary school would soon change drastically. The school building was of imposing grey, not that meant much to us new pupils. In front was green space surrounded with iron railings which are still there. This was the bicycle park, usually full. The bicycles were nearly always parked five deep, always leading to a short-lived mayhem in the evening. Early each May we were required to sit an examination in religion, set by the diocese. We were required to write on a variety of subjects on different aspects of faith. One part had the curious title of Apologetics which covered the sacraments, various prayers and wider implications of the Ten Commandments. The most interesting section was on church history. A number of chapters of the Gospel of Saint Luke had to be committed to memory. These I can recall learning in the church during the long ceremonies of Easter week, the reason being that, as long as it was a religious subject, it was all right. Visits by recruiting priests and nuns were an almost weekly occurrence and were welcomed by us pupils, but not by the teachers. They provided a respite from regular classes and shortly we became expert at delaying tactics to prolong the respite, displaying a lively interest in the particular order and the work they did in the missions. At the end usually we were given forms where we had to state if we had any interest in following a religious life. Often we used the names of fellow pupils who later would be showered with letters and often had direct visits from the priests who were ready, there and then, to whisk them off from the very arms of their parents to a religious establishment. As you may imagine, there were repercussions as a result of this practice. One priest handed us all the picture of an angelic-faced young man, St. Joseph of Cupertino who was, we were told, the patron saint of examination students and would guarantee us success if we visited the church every day and prayed to him for his intercession on our behalf. Much has been spoken and written about teaching methods of the time. Essays in the various languages were a regular requirement and much was learned by heart. The ability to recite passages of poetry and of Shakespeare were essential. This practice is now, to an extent, frowned on. I myself learned great chunks of Hamlet and As You Like It, along with the poetry of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Milton and Yeats, among others. Let me say I never regretted this and indeed, to a certain extent, enjoyed it. Most of what I learned by heart is still with me to this day, and gave me a love of poetry that I never lost and is more powerful now than ever. Having done the Leaving Certificate Examination, I went to University College Cork, and returned as a teacher in 1969 to a school I could barely recognise. When I left, there were four teachers, now there were ten and two more arrived with me. The student body had grown massively in the interval I was away. A revolution had taken place in the meantime. Donogh Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Malley, as Minister for Education, had abolished school fees which, in truth, were very small in the I.S.K. but may have presented difficulties for some families. More importantly, in my opinion, he had also introduced school transport. Up to now, pupils walked or cycled to school in Killorglin from many rural areas. I myself cycled a very modest three miles twice every day. Quite a few came by train from Glenbeigh until that wonderful means of transport was discontinued. Two of my classmates, the only ones from Glencar in the school at my

141

time, as far as I am aware, stayed in a guest house in Killorglin and cycled home after Saturday’s half-day and returned again on the Sunday. But now great numbers of pupils were coming to the school by the soon-to-be familiar yellow buses, coming from all over mid-Kerry. The revolution had begun. I wasn’t totally aware of this at the time, even though I was doing teaching practice in a secondary school in Cork which had a large number of pupils and teachers. This was a frightening but exhilarating experience. I was now at the top of the room, facing the pupils, trying to look in command in a new suit, shirt and tie and a flowing new graduate gown. I had no idea where I was going to be the next year nor indeed was I worried. The O'Malley Revolution ensured there were plenty of jobs and a dearth of teachers. During a short encounter with Mr O’Dwyer one weekend, my future was again decided. I never realised the effects of that casual meeting, suffice it to say I never had any regrets. When I arrived back to the ISK as a teacher, the effects of the changes were evident. New rooms had been pressed into service, new subjects were introduced and the curriculum grew. Central heating had been installed and every year there were new, extra faces in the staff room. Prefabs would soon make their appearance. The person who presided over all this was the towering figure of Joseph A. O’Dwyer. It is hard to imagine how all this would have panned out without his single-mindedness, vision, and determination. Those of us very close to him were in awe of him. He was an enigma, and his vision for his pupils extended far beyond the boundaries of Kerry and, indeed, Ireland. His was a total world-wide view. He set no limits for himself, his pupils or his staff. He demanded the maximum from all, including himself. Total and utter self-belief was his ally in dealing with the bureaucracy he encountered. His code of discipline was hard, and he himself the most self-disciplined of all. He was determined that his pupils would be prepared to take their places anywhere in the world. The famous “seven o’clock” rule ensured the majority of pupils were where they were supposed to be – at home studying after the curfew. The rule was widely supported by parents and was symbolic of his desire that all of the student body maximised their potential. He himself travelled widely and saw it as his sacred, God-given duty to prepare his pupils to take their places in the wider world. Killorglin and its environs owe him a great debt of gratitude. Of course Joe had a formidable deputy in his wife, Bairbre McDowell, herself a teacher of Spanish and French in the school and someone who brought a particular vision to the project, complementing Joe’s plans and bringing her own particular strengths and flair to school life. She was steeped in politics and history due to her family background, and was a wonderful source of anecdotes about political life. Bairbre had lived and studied in Paris, and had an intimate knowledge of Parisians and their foibles, invaluable to us when we began to take groups there on trips. One particularly great feature of school life was the School Tour. Every year there was a tour somewhere, be it in Ireland or, very often, to London. Joe believed and made it the essence of the school ethos and mission statement, that he should give the pupil body as a whole the greatest possible opportunities to broaden its view of the world. These tours took a lot of organising and great credit is due to those teachers who made all the arrangements and went on these trips. Usually it was only for a few days and so were very intense. The desire to squeeze as much as possible into the brief time was paramount and, as a result, they were exhausting but fulfilling for all involved.

142

When the numbers in the school increased, it became necessary to divide the tour into a senior and a junior trip. In 1975 the first trip to Paris took place and soon it became a regular feature. The first time I went on this tour was in 1990 and I was the organiser with great help from my knowledgeable and willing colleagues, especially Bairbre O’Dwyer. That first trip for me was a revelation. Again it was intense because so much had to be covered in a few days: the Louvre, Musee D’Orsee, Versailles, Les Invalides, the George Pompidou Centre, Notre Dame, Conciergerie, Sainte Chapelle, a trip in a Bateau Mouches on the Seine and a walk to Montmartre, as well as the other sites that the city of Paris might suddenly inflict on you. Usually there was a visit to the cinema and to the opera. The Opera, surprisingly, always proved to be a success. The pupils were very taken by the whole experience and to see how Parisians, young and old, enjoyed the ritual would not be forgotten in a hurry. Joe and Bairbre were particularly knowledgeable and the trip was wonderful, enjoyable, educational and exhausting for all. In the early days we usually travelled by ferry but in later years it became possible to fly. The 1994 trip in particular stays in memory. A few days before we were to travel, the tour company informed us of changes, the ferry from Rosslare had problems and a different route was organised. This involved us leaving a day earlier, travelling to Rosslare, getting the ferry to Fishguard where we were met by another bus, driving through Wales and England to Dover. We did stop off in Bath for food and an impromptu visit to the Roman baths. At Dover, we got the ferry to Calais. I can recall standing on the deck with Joe and we both burst out laughing and he uttered his maxim “A traveller has to be satisfied, my Boy”. From Calais a bus took us to Paris and, after a wonderful trip through Northern France, we arrived in Paris after nearly two days travelling. In Paris, it was business as usual and, after the tour there, we got yet another bus to Cherbourg. This gave us the opportunity to stop in Rouen and learn of Joan of Arc. The rest of the journey was equally interesting, through historic Normandy before arriving at Arromanches, the centre of Omaha Beach, where the Americans landed in 1944. Joe was never the person to miss an opportunity and a visit the beach itself and the museum suddenly became possible. We later continued on to Cherbourg, got yet another ferry to Portsmouth, where yet another bus waited to take us to Fishguard. On the way, yet another impromptu visit, this time to Stonehenge: it looked great in the dawn light. Still more drama awaited us, and the bus was detained by the police near Bristol for some vague reason and we arrived in Fishguard just in time to see our ferry picking up speed. No panic, there was another, smaller but faster one in an hour but we had to leave our bus behind; no problem, another would be waiting in Rosslare to take us on the final leg of what was surely an epic. I recall all of us feasting, sometime later that night, on the best that MacDonald’s in Waterford could provide. On trips like this a great rapport would develop between teachers and pupils, and it was a very pleasurable experience. We often got great feedback from the parents and, quite often, they would go to Paris with their son or daughter as a guide who would, invariably, follow the tour as we had done it. By the nineteen eighties, it was clear that the old building was no longer suitable. It was bursting at the seams, with many prefabs. Even the nearby Wesleyan church was used as a classroom. Joe and Bairbre now set to work with typical energy and single mindedness. The present site was acquired, plans were drawn up and the rest is history. The parents’ body supported this project wholeheartedly and helped in every way to bring it to fruition. The present building on Iveragh Road, Killorglin, Kerry,

143

with its magnificent view of the MacGillycuddy Reeks and its magnificent library and new science building, not to forget the sports fields, is a fitting tribute to Joe and his vision.

Winners of Corn An Rúnaí (Munster U19 competition) 1977. BACK ROW. Mike Frank O’Shea, Liam Woods, Michael Johnstone, John G O’Connor, James O’Shea, Michael O’Sullivan, Patrick O’Shea. 2ND ROW. Seamus O’Shea, Mr. Brendan Twomey, Teddy O’Connor, Tony Brennan, John Horgan, Donie O’Sullivan, Sean Griffin, Patrick McSweeney, Padraig Burke, Paudie Healy, Mr. Kevin Griffin (R.I.P) John Costello. FRONT ROW. Gerard O’Shea, John O’Dwyer, Tom O’Connor, Anthony Shannon, Micheal O’Callaghan, Alan Diggin, John O’Connor. Photograph kindly provided by Carrie Griffin, Names kindly provided by John Costello.

144

Photograph taken on the occasion of the visit of President Mary McAleese and Dr. Martin McAleese to the Intermediate School Killorglin on September 24th, 2009 as part of the school’s Centenary Celebrations. Left-to Right: Mr. Mike Dowd, Mrs. Josephine Scanlan (retired teacher), Mr. Kevin Griffin, Mr. Joe A. O’Dwyer, Mr. Brendan Twomey, Mr. Kieran Griffin.

About the Author Kevin Griffin was born in Killorglin, Co. Kerry. He received a BA in English and Latin from UCC in 1968 and went on to complete the Higher Diploma in Education, 1969, returning to Killorglin to take up a teaching position at his former school, the “Carnegie,” now the ISK. He retired in 2009 and has since devoted himself to writing poetry. He was a keen athlete for many years winning, among many other distinctions, an All-Ireland gold medal at 400m over-55, representing his club Iveragh AC. His poems have appeared in magazines and journals not only in Ireland, but also in the US, Canada, Austria, Northern Ireland, England and Cyprus; and he has read his work a number of times on local radio. He was shortlisted for the Phizzfest Poetry Prize in 2011, and for the Fish Prize in 2012. His first collection, Holding Salamanders, was published by New Binary Press in 2019. He passed away while running on 4th October 2020.

145

Rules and Regulations of the Carnegie Library, Killorglin Kindly submitted by the family of Kevin Griffin R. I. P.

146

LAUNE MOUNTAINEERING CLUB The early years

Stephen Thompson The author wishes to thank Sean Ó Súilleabháin and Gearoid O’Sullivan for their invaluable assistance in the preparation of this article. Ireland’s highest mountain range, the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks, dominates the landscape of Mid-Kerry and it was inevitable that Killorglin natives would be drawn to its highest peak, Carrauntoohil. Many began regular climbing in their school days. However, there is no record of an organised body until 1966 when LMC was founded, with a view mainly to feeding volunteers to the Kerry Mountain Rescue Team, founded at the same time. The first club minute book shows that those at the first club meeting (4th May 1966) were Dermot Foley, Bobby O’Reilly, Tom Walshe, Eric Brick, Alexis Condon, Derry O’Brien, Donal O’Brien, Stan Brick, Declan Mangan, Paddy O’Callaghan and Gearoid O’Sullivan. The minutes are reproduced at the end of this article. Others who joined within the first year included Gerald Teahan, Mary (O’Sullivan) Riordan, Maureen O’Mahony, Pat (O’Mahony) O’Donoghue, James Flynn, Catherine (Condon) O’Reilly, Patrick O’Shea and Richard Morrison. Stan Brick and Gearoid O’Sullivan were known to have climbed Carrauntoohil on a few occasions and were among the first contacted following the Easter 1966 accidents. They could be said to have formed the ‘nucleus’ of the club. Sean Ó Súilleabháin returned home in September 1967 with experience of climbing, and leading groups, on the Reeks as well as the Galtees and Wicklow and added to the experience. Gearoid O’Sullivan was attending the Borough Polytechnic in London (now University of the South Bank) in 1966-1968 and gained experience of rock-climbing with the college club and brought ropes, hammers, pitons and carabiners back to LMC. The initial group were joined by others in the next year or two, forming the core group. It was resolved early that enthusiasm for – one might say love of – the Kerry mountains should be channelled into getting to know every valley, esk/gully and peak. Weekly outings fulfilled that, mainly on the local mountains but also those elsewhere in Kerry and beyond. Correct procedure and practices were developed, there being no greater incentive than the lessons learned on the mountain rescue callouts. Climbing and navigation skills were polished up. It could be said that the professionalism of the club was secured when six members enrolled in the first Irish Mountaineer Leadership course (run over 2 years in various parts of the island) and gained certification. Regular camping trips, particularly at Easter, introduced members to the mountains throughout Ireland. In 1970, there were the first forays abroad. Firstly there was a motoring trip to Austria with some climbing. The party included Charlie Curran, Hillary Falvey, Aidan Goggin, Val McCarthy, Mary McCullough, Donie O’Leary, Willie O’Shea, Mary O’Sullivan, Sean Ó Súilleabháin and Don Rohan. Later that year there was a more serious climbing trip to Scotland (Tony O’Shea, Gearoid O’Sullivan, Jack Walsh). Nowadays, foreign trips are a regular feature.

147

Laune Mountaineers on summit of Carrauntoohil 1966. (L to R) Pat Ahern, Eric Brick, James Flynn, Gearoid O’Sullivan, Paddy O’Callaghan, Karl Daly, Sean Ó Súilleabháin.

St. Stephen’s Day 1966; the first of what became an annual event.

148

The club took an interest in the development of adventure sports nationally, particularly when involved in the Cappanalea project. Club members travelled throughout Ireland to try out orienteering as it was being introduced to Ireland. Two, Paddy Cronin and Sean Ó Súilleabháin, drew the first orienteering map, rather crude, for Kerry, a course in Muckross Wood. A club member, Sean Ó Súilleabháin, was elected the founding chairman of the Federation of Mountaineering Clubs of Ireland (FMCI), now Mountaineering Ireland. They were exciting times – gaining new experiences, learning new skills and performing an essential emergency service – and were very fulfilling. All expenses (personal equipment and ‘sustainment’) were borne by the members themselves. In the early days, church gate collections kept the mountain rescue service afloat. A feature of the first 20 years was the degree to which brothers and sisters followed one another into the club, the social element being as appealing as climbing and rescue work. One can think of a number of families – Ahern (Pat, Anne), Brick (Stan, Eric), Cronin of Muckross (Paddy, Donal), Maguire, also Muckross (John, Richard, Billy), O’Connor (Rita, Evelyn), O’Shea of Milltown (Willie, Tony, Gene), Pigott (Paul, Donal, Andrew), O’Sullivan (Gearoid, Mary (Riordan), Sean). Club members assisted Sean Ó Súilleabháin in exploring routes for the Gill & Macmillan Irish Walk Guides (Southwest), first published in 1978 and which went on over a number of editions to sell some 37,000 copies. The Club hosted the 2016 Mountaineering Ireland Autumn Meet to mark 50 years of existence. Mountain Rescue. As mentioned above, the club was formed simultaneously with Kerry Mountain Rescue Association/Team. For many years, the mountain rescue service was based in Killorglin, almost exclusively manned by LMC members. The first MR course (week-long, based in the Climbers Inn, Glencar) was organised in 1972, given by an instructor from a Scottish Centre and attracting personnel from teams throughout Ireland. Ireland’s first customdesigned MR station was built in Killorglin, with LMC members, principally Pat Grandfield and Gearoid O’Sullivan, involved in the detailed construction work. It could be said that this influenced national policy; the first State grant to MR teams was announced by Dick Spring, the Minister invited to perform the opening ceremony, knowing that he couldn’t come ‘with one arm as long as the other. From 1968 to 1977, the club owned an ex-British Army truck, known as ‘the yellow submarine’, that served as club transport but was mainly seen as a mountain rescue vehicle. The MacGillycuddy’s Reeks Ridge Walk. An annual organised event, running the June Holiday weekend, probably from 1972 to 1981, was developed with the other Kerry climbing clubs with a view to introducing climbers from elsewhere to our hills in monitored circumstances. It was also useful training (manning checkpoints, communications, soup kitchen) for mountain rescue. Those manning the start, the checkpoints and the finish (soup kitchen) endured a long day in service! It became a very popular feature of the outdoor calendar, attracting many hundreds of climbers (and some runners) from all of Ireland. Eventually, mainly for environmental reasons (to avoid crowds causing erosion) but also because of the longday commitments, the annual event was dropped, reinforced by the knowledge that most clubs then had qualified and experienced leaders.

149

Reeks Walk 1969. This was the checkout of a Cork man, Commdt. E. Young and two Cork girls. (L to R): Derry O’Brien, Cork entrant, Tim O’Riordan, Gearoid O’Sullivan, Pat Ahern, Sean Ó Súilleabháin, Cork entrant, Commdt. E. Young.

Cappanalea Outdoor Education Centre. At Easter 1969, LMC members were invited to a weekend at the recently opened Tolleymore Outdoor Centre in the Mourne Mountains. They returned with the resolve that the Republic’s education authorities should be persuaded that Mid-Kerry was the natural choice for such a centre. The goodwill and cooperation of the national body AFAS (Association for Adventure Sports) was secured and the search for a suitable site begun. In 1972 we learned that a 55-acre plot in Oulagh was available, the price being £3,000. The club paid the deposit required (£250, proceeds of the success of fancy dress balls) and Killorglin Community Council then took over the project and appointed six trustees to raise the full purchase price and see it through to development. Some years later, the site was sold to the Kerry VEC (Vocational Education Committee), now Kerry ETB (Education & Training Board) for the original purchase price. The money realised was re-invested in the project – bringing a water supply from a nearby lake and laying out camping platforms. Many club members acted as volunteer instructors in the early days, even before any buildings were erected. They also organised a number of national adventure meets, bringing canoeists, climbers and orienteers from throughout Ireland, Later, what could be called meets or publicity days on the site brought people from all over Kerry, thus keeping alive and advancing the project through its long uncertain days. The Centre now is Glencar’s largest employer. Following investment by the Department of Education, it now attracts students (primary, post-primary and third level) from throughout the country (and further afield). In 2019 the Department accredited Cappanalea as The National Centre for Outdoor Education – a fitting tribute to the vision of the founders.

150

The Kerry Way. The Kerry Way national walking trail was the second one developed in the Republic and its beginning (in 1978) had a very Killorglin inspiration. There were three ‘sparks’: (a) an earlier evening course in Killorglin Technical School on local history drew attention to old highways (coaching roads, butter roads) throughout Iveragh, and LMC members who attended realised the potential as well as the argument for conservation; (b) community workers involved in the Ballycastle Lammas Fair visited Killorglin’s Puck Fair and spoke of a trail then being developed at Fair Head (Co. Antrim) and it seemed that Kerry could do better; (c) LMC members had been involved recently in a Kerry Mountain Rescue 4-day operation to find and recover the body of a Dutchman killed on the Reeks and came to the conclusion that a marked low-level trail made sense. Two LMC members (Catherine McMullin representing An Taisce Kerry Association; Sean Ó Súilleabháin representing LMC) led the project initially and that resulted in the foundation of what now could be termed Ireland’s premier walking trail, assisted by members of the other Kerry walking clubs. In 1981-’82, they put the first legs (Killarney to Glenbeigh) into place by installing furniture – stiles (manufactured in community employment workshops) and markers (home-made branding iron used on fencing posts) – having secured the agreement of landowners, readily provided by those who relished the fact that routes of old passed their doors. The opening of that section was in September 1985. The Kerry Way Committee was then formed, involving the original volunteers with statutory bodies and community groups/employment schemes, and the complete circuit of Iveragh (say 180km) was officially opened in September 1989. LMC members still have an interest, even if only in monitoring. It could be said that our project also helped develop national policy. The Wicklow Way then was being put in place by Cospoir (later Sports Council/Sport Ireland) on State forestry land and the Slazenger Estate. The Kerry Way was the first to deal with private landowners (‘small farmers’) and to secure signed agreements. Thanks to the cooperation of Kerry County Council, the Kerry Way was the first to put in place liability insurance to relieve landowners, copied later to set up a national scheme. Later again, club members were involved in promoting what became the Walks Scheme which gives income to landowners.

More photographs overleaf

151

“Yellow Submarine” at the “Climbers’ Inn”, Glencar. On the truck (ex-British Army) L to R: Sean Ó Súilleabháin, Mary O’Sullivan, Dominic Coffey, Johnny Walsh. In front L to R: Rae Kelliher, Evelyn O’Connor, Mary Collins, Gearoid O’Sullivan, Paul Maes (visiting Dutch student), Pat O’Mahony, Willie O’Shea.

. Laune Mountaineering Club members in Gap of Dunloe 1967. L to R: Evelyn O’Connor, Pat O’Mahony, Paul Maes, Willie O’Shea, Mary O’Sullivan, Maureen O’Mahony

152

Minutes of LMC inaugural meeting (page 1 of 3)

153

Minutes of LMC inaugural meeting (page 2 of 3)

154

Minutes of LMC inaugural meeting (page 3 of 3) About the Author Stephen Thompson was born in London and moved to Co. Cork when young. He was educated at Crosshaven National School and Bandon Grammar School. He studied chemistry and chemical engineering at the Sharman Crawford Technical Institute, Cork (precursor of the Cork Institute of Technology), and at the University of Aston in Birmingham. His career was as a chemist in both the polymer and pharmaceutical industries. Stephen married Rita (Chub) O’Connor and moved to her hometown of Killorglin – thus qualifying for “blow-in” status! A member of Killorglin Archive Society since 2012, Stephen’s main reading interest is history in general, and the First World War in particular. He has conducted extensive research about the men from Killorglin Parish who enlisted in the Allied Forces during the Great War, culminating in the publication of a book “Killorglin’s Great War Servicemen” in 2018 – copies of which were donated to local secondary schools and libraries.

155

The Bridge Barry Harmon As I stand upon this bridge that crosses over the river Laune, It was built in eighteen eighty five at the foot of Killorglin town. To the South, we have the majestic Reeks, as they climb into the sky, With Carrantuohill – Ireland’s highest peak, three thousand four fourteen feet high To the North as I watch the river flow to the sea, There’s beauty to my right and left, as far as the eye can see. On the left and on celestial high, our beautiful St. James Church, Built by Fr. Tom Lawlor, and has kept our faith in touch. On my right we have the Fishery, where as a boy I did behold, The many salmon that came through its doors, to be exported throughout the world. Also, there we have Chub’s Quay, where once boats unloaded coal, And now the lovely Rowing Club, where youths pursue their goal. Straight ahead not far below, the metal bridge stands proud, A memory of times gone by when steam trains puffed aloud As I stand upon this bridge, and watch the river flow, I wonder how many have passed this way, Dear God I’ll never know.

About the Author Barry Harmon was born in Laune View, Killorglin in1952. He loves his town, county and country. Barry enjoys writing poems, short stories and songs. He has written songs about Kerry and Laune Rangers football teams in their victorious years. A book of these songs was published in 1997. Barry is very proud of where he comes from and lives.

156

THE BATTLE FOR KILLORGLIN September 27th, 1922.

Tom Doyle Introduction The Civil War began in Dublin on June 28th, 1922 when the National Army shelled the Four Courts, which had been occupied by an anti-Treaty IRA garrison since 14th April. Fighting continued in the capital – mostly in the O'Connell Street area – for about a week, culminating in the victory of the Provisional Government's forces on 5th July. Following the disbandment of the Royal Irish Constabulary in the spring of 1922, local IRA units assumed responsibility for providing a police service in their local areas. In Kerry all the three IRA Brigade commanders and most of the rank-and-file Republicans from the War of Independence era took an anti-Treaty stance. Listowel was the one exception. There a number of officers and NCOs from the North Kerry Flying Column – Tom Kennelly and Con Brosnan being the most high-profile War of Independence veterans to declare for the Provisional Government – and set up a pro- Treaty military force and recruited 250 men across north Kerry. After the occupation of the Four Courts in mid-April, Kerry No. 1 and No. 2 Brigades IRA considered it expedient to monitor the pro-Treaty garrison in Listowel and sent about 150 troops to the town, establishing outposts opposite – and in direct line of fire – to the pro-Treaty forces. For the next two months Listowel was on tenterhooks as townspeople anticipated a military clash. This finally came on June 30th as news of the hostilities in Dublin reached Listowel. The anti-Treaty forces took the offensive at 8.30am and bitter fighting lasted for a number of hours. Patrick Sheehy, a twenty-year old pro-Treaty soldier, was killed and a number of Republican and National Army troops were wounded before a local seminarian, Fr. George Troy, brokered a ceasefire at 5.00pm. The Republicans took possession of 4 Lewis machine guns, 200 rifles, a large quantity of ammunition, grenades and grenade launchers as well as a lorry and a number of private cars1. Humphrey Murphy, O/C Kerry No.1 Brigade IRA, and Tom Kennelly, Commander of the defeated pro-Treaty garrison, distanced themselves from the Dublin fighting, issuing a joint statement clarifying that as Kerrymen – and former comrades in arms – they didn't want to fight each other in a Civil War. In early July the Republicans who captured Listowel, and a comparable number of troops from the Cork IRA, transferred to Limerick to reinforce the Republican garrison based in the city. Occupying the four army barracks in the city, the Republican force (over 700 strong) virtually encircled the pro-Treaty enclave centred on King's Island. Mostly drawn from the First Western Division – a Clare based unit – under the command of Michael Brennan (400 troops), the force was poorly equipped, and many recent recruits had no combat experience. Brennan organised a truce with General Liam Lynch, his Republican counterpart, and bought time to surreptitiously bring reinforcements into the city from Clare, Galway and – eventually – Dublin. By July 11th Brennan felt he had achieved a balance of forces and commenced offensive actions against the Republicans. Ultimately it was only the arrival of artillery on July 19th that tilted the balance in the Provisional Government’s favour. In a matter of hours an eighteen-pounder field gun virtually demolished the Strand Barracks (on the banks of the Shannon) and by July 21st the Republicans had abandoned and burned their

157

three remaining strongpoints in the city. Regrouping, they concentrated their forces in a triangular salient around Bruff, Bruree and Kilmallock (in east Limerick) where they hoped to halt the National Army’s advance on Cork City, the capital of the – aspirational – Munster Republic. The Coastal landings. Emmet Dalton, though aged only twenty-four, was the government forces most experienced military commander. He served in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, fought at the Battle of the Somme, won the Military Medal and, by the time of his demobilisation from the British army in April, held the rank of Captain. Introduced to Michael Collins by his younger brother Liam, Dalton duly joined the IRA’s Dublin Brigade in 1920 and served in Collins’ Intelligence unit, where both men developed a close rapport and friendship. In July 1922 Dalton persuaded Collins and Richard Mulcahy (Minister for Defence) to consider landing troops on the Cork and Kerry coasts as a way of shortening the war. Dalton estimated these areas would at best be poorly defended. More importantly, the operation would reduce casualty levels in the National Army by avoiding a protracted campaign of attrition as Republican forces defended familiar terrain in their home places as they fought a rearguard action across Munster. Over the night of August 1st/2nd 450 troops from the Dublin Guard regiment under the command of Brigadier Paddy O'Daly boarded the Lady Wicklow bound for Kerry. They carried an armoured car and an eighteen-pounder field gun. Initially the Republicans had mined Fenit pier and placed a garrison of 20 men in the Coast guard station2. Motivated purely to protect their livelihoods, local fishermen and employees of the Harbour Commission disconnected the cable, disabling the mine and in so doing radically altered the course of the Civil War in Kerry. Consequently, the invasion force easily overwhelmed the small garrison at Fenit and headed for Tralee, which was poorly defended. Nevertheless, eight Dublin Guard troops and two Republicans were killed before Brigadier Paddy O'Daly achieved his objective and occupied Ballymullen barracks late on Wednesday, August 2nd, 1922. On Thursday August 3rd a flotilla of small boats crossed the River Shannon from Kilrush in Co. Clare carrying 250 men from the First Western Division commanded by Colonel Michael Hogan. Establishing a small garrison in Tarbert, the First Westerns advanced across north Kerry, encountering little Republican resistance. They established outposts in Ballylongford and Listowel (where many of the earlier recruits rejoined) before progressing to Tralee to bring Brigadier O'Daly up to date on the situation in north Kerry. On 5/6 August the Dublin Guard and the First Westerns took part in a joint operation, capturing both Farranfore and Castleisland, which were of great military / strategic importance in both Kerry’s road and rail networks. On August 8th, as part of the second phase of Emmet Dalton’s plan, around 1,000 troops were landed at Youghal, Passage West and Union Hall in County Cork. The main force – about 600 men – faced stiff resistance in Rochestown as they advanced in Cork city. Nevertheless, the IRA abandoned the southern capital, which was in government hands by 10th August. The next day, August 11th, Brigadier Tom O'Connor left Limerick port bound for his hometown commanding 200 men, where he faced no opposition as the Republicans had abandoned Kenmare. Over August 11/12 Michael Collins made a tour of inspection of Cork and Kerry. Arriving in Tralee on August 12th, he received news of the death of Arthur Griffith and

158

cut his visit short to return to Dublin. Before departing he gave orders to gain as much ground as possible before the Kerry anti-Treaty force abandoned the Limerick 'front' to return to defend their home county. Over the night of August 13th/14th Dublin Guard troops captured Killarney, where Republicans offered no resistance. The same weekend about 60 troops from the First Westerns left Tralee to establish a military garrison in Killorglin. The Killorglin Garrison. Since the spring of 1922, and the disbandment of the RIC, the 6th Battalion, Kerry No.2 Brigade IRA (whose area of jurisdiction ran from Kells to Milltown) were based in Killorglin RIC barracks. When news reached them that a government military force was approaching Killorglin, they detonated a land mine in the Day Room of the barracks. A small group of Republicans, consisting of a Lewis gun crew and a few riflemen, challenged the government force at Kilderry wood on the Killorglin side of Milltown. The unit was too small to successfully halt a 60-man force, and in the process four of the Republicans – and a Lewis gun – were captured. Captain Donal Lehane, born in Cregg, Lahinch, Co Clare on January 25th, 1899 was the Commanding Officer of the Killorglin force. From a farming family, he served in the Mid-Clare Brigade IRA during the War of Independence and took part – along with his older brother Pake – in the Rineen ambush on September 22nd, 1920, during which six RIC officers were killed. In reprisal attacks across west Clare, the Black and Tans killed five civilians and burned sixteen houses and shops3. Among the dead were Donal's father, Daniel (aged 61) and his son Pake (aged 23), Donal’s elder brother, who, following the ambush, took refuge in an attic in a 'safe' house in Lahinch. Identified as the property of a Republican sympathiser, the building was set alight by the Black and Tans. Pake Lehane died in the conflagration. His remains were never recovered4. Donal Lehane chose Morris's Hotel (now the Bianconi Inn) as his Command headquarters. He got permission from Rector George Power to install a machine gun / observation post on the square tower of Saint James's Church of Ireland Church (now Sol y Sombra tapas bar), which could be entered independently of the main church. It was an inspired choice, giving commanding views of both the road and rail approaches to the town, and would prove an invaluable part of the garrison’s defences in late September. About one third of Lehane's force (20 troops) were billeted at Morris's, on the corner of Annadale Road and Lower Bridge Street covering the New Line and the Laune Bridge approach to the town and protecting the rear approaches to the garrson’s outpost in the Carnegie/Secondary school. First Lieutenant O'Callaghan, also from Co. Clare, was based in the RIC Barracks in Upper Bridge Street, which accommodated about 20 troops. Second Lieutenant Dan Corry (aged 20), a native of Loughrea, Co. Galway, in command of 20 troops, was based in the town’s Secondary School (universally known as 'the Carnegie') on Market Street. During the course of the summer troops coming out of both outposts needed to be vigilant as Republican snipers based on Sunhill would open fire on an unwary soldier, a practice so frequent that local people referred to it as 'Mauser Hill’5 after the rifles landed at Howth in 1914 and which Killorglin people assumed were still a staple of IRA weaponry. Within days of arriving in Killorglin the Garrison began to enlist local recruits. Army census, taken over 12th/13th November 1922 noted Jeremiah Clifford, Langford Street (aged 22) joined on August 15th; Sean O'Shea, Mill Road (aged 25) enlisted on August 16th, and Myles McCarthy, Langford Street (aged 22) joined on August 28th 6.

159

All three were members of the 'Kerry Brigade'. Though raw recruits in terms of military skills, their greatest contribution was local knowledge of the geography and topography of Killorglin and its hinterland, which Lehane's men, coming from Clare and Galway, needed to know to be an effective garrison. Sean O'Shea must have impressed his superiors, as by the November Census he had been promoted to Second Lieutenant. By late August the 1st Westerns had about two weeks under their belt in Killorglin. Captain James Burke, from Dunmanway, Co. Cork (aged 27), led a column of about 100 men to the town over the weekend of August 26th/27th to facilitate a rotation of part of the garrison. On August 28th Humphrey Murphy O/C Kerry No. 1 Brigade – a native of Currow – organised an ambush of the Column on their return to Tralee. As the force approached the railway bridge near Castlemaine, Captain Burke – who was on horseback at the head of the Column – was shot dead. A thirty-minute gun battle followed. Some of Burke's troops alleged that Jack Galvin fired the shot(s) that killed their commanding officer. Burke and Colonel Michael Hogan – Commander of the First Westerns – were friends of long standing, and Burke joined the 1st Westerns at Hogan's invitation.

160

Jack Galvin was born into a farming family in Garrahadoo, Killorglin in 1894. He served in the Irish Guards regiment during the First World War. Sustaining multiple bayonet wounds at the Battle of the Marne (1914) and receiving a bullet wound in the chest at the Battle of Neuve Chapelle (1915), he was granted an honourable discharge from the British army on medical grounds in June 1915 and returned to the UK. After a spell in a munitions factory in 1916 – when conscription was introduced in Britain – he joined the Corps of Engineers, serving in France until the spring of 19187. Returning to Kerry, he joined the IRA in 1920, holding the rank of Lieutenant in 6th Battalion, Kerry No. 2 Brigade and took an anti-Treaty stance in 1922. According to pro-Treaty sources Jack Galvin fought on the anti-Treaty side during the fighting in Limerick city in July, where he was taken prisoner8. As the Civil War was scarcely three weeks old in early July, once a Republican handed up his rifle and ammunition and signed a pledge not to take up arms against the Government, he was duly released – as a gesture of magnanimity – and expected to honour the pledge.

Jack Galvin Lieutenant, Anti-Treaty forces Killorglin IRA Captured September 28th, 1922 Killed by Free State troops while being escorted to Tralee

161

The Fall of Kenmare. By the end of August Brigadier Tom O'Connor's force in south Kerry was grossly over stretched. About 120 of his original force were still based in Kenmare, while a further 100 troops were divided between outposts in Waterville and Caherciveen. Their geographic isolation from the rest of the Kerry pro-Treaty forces meant they depended on shipping contacts – mainly from Cork city – for replenishing their supplies of ammunition, food and even paying their wages. In many respects the anti-Treaty forces depended on foraging to keep their army in the field. John Joe Rice, O/C Kerry No. 2 Brigade, realised that the cargoes that the supply ships brought to Kerry could be captured by the Republicans for their own use, and thereby strengthen their campaign and by default undermine their opponents’ cause. On September 9th, commencing at 7.00am, an 87-man force commanded by Rice launched simultaneous attacks on the outposts held by the National Army in Kenmare. Using 'Linking' – tunneling through a row of houses – and rifle grenades, 17 members from the Ballyvourney IRA in County Cork, proficient in their use, assisted Kerry No. 2 Brigade in the assault which had successfully taken the town by 2pm. They captured 110 rifles, 2 Lewis machine guns, 20,000 rounds of ammunition, a sizeable quantity of grenades and some explosives, and took over 100 prisoners. As Rice could not accommodate, feed or guard his captives, they were marched to Kilgarvan where their boots and greatcoats were taken – they were of practical use to the Republicans – and were told (to their great relief) if they continued walking, they would eventually reach Killarney. In a maverick action a small group of Republicans led by Dan Healy and Con Looney entered the O'Connor family home, which even though it was 'de facto' army headquarters had no sentries on guard duty. Brigadier Tom O'Connor (aged 24) and his younger brother John (aged 21) were shot dead. The Republicans blamed Tom O'Connor for bringing government troops to Kerry, which they regarded as an act of betrayal. While many people in Kenmare were shocked by the brutality of the double murder of two unarmed men, at another level there was a local pride in Rice's force’s achievement, even if one didn’t agree with the Republican cause. It is fair to say that without the morale boost of the victory at Kenmare as well as the military supplies gained by the anti-Treaty force, Kerry IRA would not have contemplated an attack on Killorglin. By Civil War standards – and not just in a Kerry context – the Kenmare and Killorglin operations mounted by the anti-Treaty forces were ambitious undertakings both in terms of planning, preparation and the number of men involved in the actions. On Tuesday, September 19th the Killorglin garrison came under sustained rifle fire for a period of over four hours9. Though they didn't realise it at the time, the 'attack' was a reconnaissance exercise on the Republicans’ part, where by observing the patterns of returned fire, they could assess the relative strengths of the three outposts spread throughout the town as well as identifying covert sniping positions dispersed throughout Killorglin. Prelude to the attack. On Sunday September 24th the Republicans sent envoys to Killorglin to inform local residents that at some point during the coming week they would attack the town’s military outposts. They advised people to leave Killorglin for their own safety. While the Republicans’ desire to avoid civilian casualties was commendable, a virtually empty town with most houses unoccupied made their battle plan – in which each street 'camouflaged' an advance and protected their troops – a much more achievable objective.

162

As a market town, most townspeople had relatives spread across the parish and were able to arrange temporary lodgings. Catherine Houlihan (my Grandmother), aged 40, and a widow since June 1921, ran a butcher’s shop at Upper Bridge Street two doors up from Killorglin RIC Barracks. Each July, she and her five daughters ranging in age from eleven to a one-year-old took a week’s holiday in Rossbeigh. They were able to go to the same house that September and, to the little girls’ delight, spend another week in Rossbeigh. Needless to say, there were some townspeople who had no choice and were either unwilling or unable to leave town. They did not see the Republicans’ advice to vacate their homes as a positive gesture. Rather, they viewed their predicament as a forced eviction, at gunpoint. Anticipating an imminent attack, Captain Donal Lehane put his entire garrison on 'Stand to' and set up a number of additional outposts to streamline his defences. O'Shea's public house on Langford Street was mid-way between Morris' hotel (his command headquarters) and O'Callaghan's force in the RIC barracks (now Killorglin Garda station). The small unit based in O'Shea's secured a line of communication between these two outposts and could forestall a Republican advance against either building, if it came from the west of the town. As it turned out, once hostilities began, the Railway Hotel on Iveragh Road was chosen as the Republican forces’ Command Headquarters. The National Army were more than aware of the role the railway network had played in the Republican campaign against the Provisional Government since they first landed in Kerry in early August. If anti-Treaty forces sabotaged the GS&WR signal box during the attack on Killorglin, the entire railway line between Farranfore and Valentia Harbour (a forty-mile rail link) would be decommissioned. To prevent this, Lehane placed a party of three soldiers – with substantial stocks of ammunition – in the signal box. Ironically, they would be in a cockpit of gunfire once the Republicans took over the Railway Hotel late on Tuesday, September 26th, 1922. The former Coastguard Station in Cromane was used as a billet for the many IRA troops who travelled up from south Kerry – Kenmare and Caherciveen – as part of Kerry No.2 and No.3 Brigades’ contribution to the Killorglin operation. The building would also serve as an evacuation post for Republicans wounded during the fighting on September 27th. During Monday and Tuesday, September 25th and 26th, Republican snipers based in Dromavally Cemetery located on high ground (and protected by a high wall) on the opposite bank of the river Laune kept up a steady line of fire on the troops based in the Carnegie (now Tom O'Donnell House), and to a lesser extent Morris' Hotel military outpost. This was possible because the housing estate at Laune View did not exist at this point (it was constructed in the 1930s) and so there was an unrestricted line of fire. The garrison based in the RIC barracks on Upper Bridge Street, and an ancillary outpost Lehane had established in O'Connor's house on Mill Road (to protect the Carnegie outpost from an attack) were also subject to incessant sniping. The Republicans fluctuated the level of fire to give the impression an attack was imminent. This could be described as 'psychological' warfare aimed both at weakening the defenders’ morale and encouraging them to return fire and deplete their ammunition stocks before the actual Battle commenced. On Tuesday, September 26th, the garrison on Upper Bridge Street came under exceptionally heavy fire. This was to conceal the noise made by Republican sappers as they tunnelled between O'Neill's public house and Dodd's shop to facilitate the laying of cables to enable them to detonate a land mine next door to the RIC Barracks, which the Republicans decided would be the prime target of their offensive. It was selected for several reasons. Having occupied the building for over six months, the local IRA had a detailed knowledge of its interior layout. Unlike either

163

the Carnegie or Morris' Hotel, it was easy to access and fire upon from taller buildings in the Square such as Stephensâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Shop, which was higher and directly opposite the barracks on Bridge Street. Under the cover of darkness on Tuesday night, Republicans took up positions close to their intended targets to maximize the element of surprise in their attack.

Key: National Army outposts in red Anti-Treaty HQ (Railway Hotel) in yellow

164

Wednesday, September 27th, 1922 At 6.00am a massive explosion rocked Killorglin as the Republicans detonated a land mine on the top floor of Dodd's, the expectation being that the blast would collapse the wall in the dormitory section of the barrack, burying many of the garrison. The force of the explosion blew Lieutenant O'Callaghan from his bed and shattered many slates on the roof, but the building (constructed circa 1895/96) was far more robust than most of the town’s housing stock. Land mines were the nearest equivalent technology the Republicans had to parallel an artillery strike. The problem was that a wall could redirect the force of the blast, and this is probably why the main damage was inflicted in Dodd's premises rather than the barrack walls. The explosion in Dodd's ushered in coordinated attacks on the town’s remaining outposts. Morris' Hotel (Lehane's Command HQ) came under fire from Republicans based in the upper floors of the mill, a three-story building nearby on Annadale Road. In a lull in the fighting, Donal Lehane and a small number of troops entered the mill without being noticed by the Republicans. Lehane sustained a head wound as he and his men surprised and overpowered the eight Republicans, bringing them back to Morris' as prisoners10. The medic who tended to Lehane's injury (a flesh wound) advised him to get some rest as, in common with most of the garrison, he hadn’t slept for two or three days. The medic was also worried about delayed concussion, but Lehane ignored his medical advice and after the explosion he was anxious to check on his troops in the other outposts. The Killorglin conflict’s only civilian casualty – James Guerin, who was wounded in the groin – may have occurred in crossfire at this point. Born in Langford Street in March 1892 (where his father was a carpenter), James Guerin and his sister Mary worked in O’Regan's butchers shop in Lower Bridge Street11. Early on the morning of the attack he was on his way to check on livestock at the O’Regan farm (now O' Neill’s) on School Road when fighting broke out. James Guerin recovered from his injuries. He died at O'Regan's in Lower Bridge Street (his former employers, where he lived out his retirement) on November 28th, 1962, aged seventy12.

Jim Guerin, Lower Bridge Street. 30-year-old wounded in crossfire

165

The Carnegie garrison came under fire from Republican riflemen based in Dromavally cemetery, and a two-story outbuilding at the back of Griffin's public house (behind Karl Daly's barber’s shop) on Upper Bridge Street. A Lewis machine gun crew – operated by John 'Gilpin' Griffin and Jeremiah 'Romey' Keating from Caherciveen – were based in this outbuilding for some time to provide covering fire as south Kerry IRA men flanked the Fair Field, via Mill Road and Market Street, to get access to the Carnegie as a frontal assault across open ground would have been a suicidal exercise. John Griffin fought with the Royal Munster Fusiliers in World War One and lost an eye during the Gallipoli campaign in Turkey in 1915. He was regarded as an Ace Lewis gunner. The Lewis gun, a light machine gun, was portable (weighing 14 kg/2 stone) and had a 'pan' magazine that could hold 97 rounds. It could fire a single shot or empty the magazine in a single burst. In the hands of an expert the weapon could discharge up to 500 rounds a minute and literally devoured ammunition stocks. The gun needed at least two men to operate effectively; one to shoot and the second to 'feed' and load the pans. While portable, the crew needed to carry a lot of ammunition as – in Killorglin at any rate – they moved location frequently. National Army sources in Killorglin estimated the Republicans had access to at least eight Lewis machineguns in their assault on the town13. Born in Top Street, Caherciveen on December 17th, 1899 (a location immortalised by Sigerson Clifford as 'Barr na Sráide' in a song that has become an Anthem for Iveragh), Jeremiah Francis 'Romey' Keating was the son – and fourth child – of a retired RIC Officer who had served in Counties Limerick and Tyrone during his police career. Jeremiah Keating worked as a motor mechanic and a cab driver at Leslie's garage in Caherciveen14. While engaging Lewis gunfire at troops in the Carnegie outpost, Keating was mortally wounded in the head and removed to Caherciveen, where he died of his injuries on October 3rd. He was twenty-two years old. While the Republicans’ opening salvo in Upper Bridge Street (the landmine) had not gone according to plan, it ushered in a spate of close-quarter fighting that on occasion bordered on the surreal. The Cork Examiner told the story of the Lewis gunner in Killorglin Barracks. A bullet came down the barrel of his gun and exploded a bullet in the magazine, tearing away the soldier’s upper lip and a large portion of the gun15. The shot was probably fired from one of the upper floors of Stephens’ (now Jones’ Eurospar shop) directly across from the barrack and had all the hallmarks of the marksmanship of John 'Gilpin' Griffin; a less skilled sniper would probably have killed the soldier. In another part of the barracks troops observed the head of a pickaxe coming through the brickwork in a chimney. As the hole grew in size, they removed the pins from two hand grenades and lobbed them at the men who were boring through the wall from O'Sullivan's public house (next door to the Garda Station)16. A scouting party (Fianna Eireann), including brothers Eddie and Maurice O'Sullivan of Langford Street, dispatched by Bertie (Sean) Scully of Shanacashel, (a Staff Officer in IRA HQ in the Railway Hotel) to report back on the progress of the attack, were fired upon as they approached the Barrack. Diving to the ground, they noticed the shots came from O'Sullivan’s public house, a Republican post. They were being shot at by their own men17. In lulls between the shooting rival forces were so close to each other that they resorted to shouting like boisterous rival supporters at a football match “Will ye surrender?” In response came the reply “Never. Up Clare”, or “Up the First Westerns”. Captain

166

Lehane, who was in the building at this point during his tour of inspection, probably gave the most realistic response “We'll surrender only when our ammunition is spent”18. At least one fatal shot was fired from the Barrack that day, taking the life of Lieutenant Pat Murphy from Knockaunroe, Dooks, who served in the IRA flying column during the War of Independence. In civilian life he worked as a shop assistant/bookkeeper in Patrick Lane's bakery in Iveragh Road19. He died in the Handball Alley (now Micko's Restaurant) on the Mill Road/School Road corner. He was 23 years old. Around 10am the Republican forces detonated a second land mine in Dodd's. For the second time the Barrack emerged unscathed, to the Republicans’ chagrin and disbelief. By that time Donal Lehane had moved and was based in O'Shea's in Langford Street where the outpost was coming under heavy fire from Republicans ensconced in Evans’ public house (now Moriarty's) directly across the road from O'Shea's. Around 11 o'clock, Lehane came out of O'Shea's. Holding his revolver in his hand, his intention was to encourage his men to advance on the Republican position, though his men pleaded with him not to approach Evans'. Gunfire identified as coming from both a Thompson submachine gun and a Lewis gun tore into the officer, wounding him seven times20. He died within a few minutes. By a poignant coincidence, the previous day, September 26th, was the second anniversary of his father Daniel's death in the family farm in Lahinch in 1920. After Captain Lehane's death, Langford Street folklore has it that a member of the O'Shea family – possibly James M. O'Shea – retrieved his Webley revolver from the laneway where it fell as the officer was shot21. It was a treasured possession of the O'Shea family for generations. In June 2009 it was destroyed following a house fire in the family home in Langford Street that claimed the lives of sisters Rhetta McSweeney and Anne O'Shea. According to contemporary newspaper reports – the Freeman's Journal and the Cork Examiner – Donal Lehane was an inspiration to his men, and a brave and courageous soldier. It could be argued that while all these qualities were true, they were exercised to the point of being reckless. On Captain Lehane's death, his 1st Lieutenant O'Callaghan assumed responsibility as the garrison commander. In order to convey how the Battle for Killorglin was reported in national newspapers within days of its completion, I am quoting a sizeable segment of the Freeman's Journal account of the conflict, as reported on October 4th, 1922. It is fair to point out that all the national press was vociferously anti-Republican. The proprietors of the Freeman's Journal did not forget how the IRA had burned their Dublin headquarters to the ground in the spring of 1922. Much of the Journal's 'copy' is virtually verbatim 'spin' from the army press office – without any attempt to challenge its content or question its journalistic (or factual) accuracy.

167

Account of Battle. The Freemanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Journal newspaper was decidedly biased in favour of the National Army

The account of the death toll inflicted on Republicans as they assaulted the three-man unit based in the GS&WR signal box on Iveragh Road is pure invention bordering on propaganda. Generally, estimates of the size of the Republican forces, and the casualties they suffered at the National Armyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hands, not just in Killorglin, but also throughout Kerry during the nine months of the Civil War are grossly exaggerated and inflated. In the case of the September 9th attack on Kenmare, for example, the army press release estimated a force of 500 Republicans participated in the assault on the town. In fact, the anti-Treaty force numbered 87, a substantially smaller number than the National Army garrison that held Kenmare.

168

The Irish Times newspaper would record Republican losses at Killorglin as 51 dead and 90 wounded22. To put these figures in context, the combined death toll of both belligerent forces (National Army and Republicans) during a week’s fighting in Dublin in July 1922 was forty-five. Around noon the IRA detonated its third landmine in Dodd's, whose structure had been totally weakened (lime plaster crumbles easily) by the two previous blasts. The front and back walls collapsed, and the floors burned out. Bertie Scully, in an interview with Ernie O'Malley thirty years later, considered a much larger quantity of explosives should have been used in the landmine and laid the responsibility for the failure at Sean Hyde’s (First Southern Division, who directed the attack) door23. On the day, Scully advised his superiors that, as the Barracks in Upper Bridge Street was no longer a practical target, it was time to consider scaling down the campaign cutting their losses. The problem was that the Republicans had no prearranged way of calling off the offensive. Bertie Scully suggested to Mary O'Sullivan of Langford Street (aged 20), who worked in McCrohan's pub and bakery in Lower Bridge Street and was a Cumann Na mBan activist since the War of Independence days in Killorglin (1919-20) if she would consider walking through the streets of the town carrying an opened umbrella24. Before setting out, Scully told her that the Republican units would be informed of the signal that the umbrella conveyed – namely, ‘begin withdrawing your forces’. Mary O'Sullivan didn't think the plan would work, adding that she would probably be shot and killed while carrying out the order. An alternative suggestion – ringing the church bell as a way of signalling an evacuation seemed a more practical exit strategy. Arriving at Saint James's Catholic church, the Republicans found the building was closed25. They chose not to force entry even though the bell tower was separate from the main body of the church and would not involve violating the sanctity of a place of worship. Consequently, the Republican offensive continued throughout the afternoon but with diminished intensity. As a sortie returned from an attack on one of the 'Free State' outposts a replacement patrol was not sent out. Eventually, even the troops in the various outposts held by the Government forces noticed this. Late on Wednesday evening a group of soldiers stationed in Upper Bridge Street crawled their way towards the Power House (Killorglin’s electricity generating station) on Mill Road, now the location of the CYMS Hall, fearing the Republicans would sabotage – burn or blow up – the facility as their parting gesture of defiance26. After the fall of Kenmare two-and-a-half weeks previously, the Kenmare troops were redeployed to other garrisons across Kerry. Several were assigned to Killorglin. We know this due to a fatality that occurred in one of the Killorglin outposts on Sunday, September 24th, the day that Republican envoys arrived in the town to inform residents of their intended attack on Killorglin. Private John Looney (aged 22) from Ballybrack – between Castlemaine and Firies – was part of a lineout unloading their weapons as they came off guard duty. A bullet remaining in one of the rifles discharged, killing Looney instantly27. By the very nature of 'barrack room' talk, the soldiers in Killorglin would have been curious about the details of the Kenmare engagement and learned of the fate of the O'Connor brothers. The Clare troops would have seen 'action' in Limerick city in July, so they had their own tales to tell. At another level, some of the Kenmare veterans redeployed to Killorglin would probably have recognised Con Looney, whose life was in danger once it became known he was part of the Kenmare unit sent to Killorglin.

169

The second eldest of six children, Con Looney was born into a small farm at Rossboy, Cappagh, Kenmare on September 21st, 1901. He worked as a stoker/fireman on a railway locomotive operating out of the GS&WR depot in Kenmare and held the rank of Section Commander (NCO) in the Kenmare Battalion28. He was leading troops towards the Carnegie when he was shot near Saint James’ Church corner, hardly a week after he turned twenty-one. In an interview given to Iris an Airm, an 'in house' army newsletter, Dan Corry O/C Carnegie garrison mentioned he was wounded while sniping at a Republican. He did not identify whom he had shot, but circumstantial evidence (and the fact that Corry risked exposure to hostile fire) suggests a 'high profile' individual. His 'target' could have been Con Looney, who was alleged to have been a part of the IRA group that killed the O'Connor brothers in Kenmare. Late in the evening on September 27th, 1922 Father James Nolan, parish priest of Killorglin – without the knowledge of either the garrison or the Republicans – got on his bicycle in the pouring rain and cycled to Ballymullen Barracks, Tralee. Born in Dromtrasna, Castleisland in 1859, Fr. Nolan served as curate in Rathmore and Caherciveen before being appointed parish priest of Killorglin in October 1916. A stern critic of the anti-Treaty IRA’s opposition to the government, he used his pulpit to criticise the Republicans, who on one occasion fired a fusillade of shots outside his house as a warning against further criticism29. Arriving in Ballymullen Barracks, Fr. Nolan informed General W.R.E. Murphy – GOC Kerry Command – of the Republican onslaught on the Killorglin garrison, which was still ongoing. Nolan warned that Killorglin might well 'go under' unless reinforcements were urgently dispatched to the town30. Murphy was shocked by the news and immediately dispatched a number of troops on bicycles as a stop gap measure. It took time to organise a larger force which Murphy led, assisted by Colonel Michael Hogan, 1st Westerns, and included a “Whippet” miniature armoured car named 'Danny Boy'. The relief force took nine hours to reach Killorglin due to trenches being dug in the roads and trees felled to create roadblocks to impede progress. The relief column encountered stiff resistance from Republicans between Castlemaine and Milltown, which lasted over an hour and allowed Republican scouts to travel to Killorglin to warn the remnants of the IRA units still remaining in the town to withdraw before the relief force arrived. As the First Westerns crossed the Laune Bridge, they came under fire from a few Republican snipers based in Lower Bridge Street, who quickly withdrew. The arrival of the relief force around 9am on Thursday, September 28th was greeted by cheering from the troops based in Morris's Hotel, shouting “Up Clare” and “Up the First Westerns”. A group of Republicans, including Jack Galvin, were trapped in Johnson's shop in the Square (4 doors down from “Mac’s Corner” with Langford Street) and were taken prisoner. They had been trying to advance on the machine gun post located in the tower of the Church of Ireland once the IRA decided to shift their main assault from the Barrack after the collapse of Dodd's in Upper Bridge Street. Due to their isolated position, IRA units could not contact them to tell them that the Republican command had decided to abandon the attack on Killorglin and withdraw their forces. Jack Galvin was separated from the other prisoners. Under torture (his arm was broken with the butt of a rifle) troops from the First Westerns claimed he admitted responsibility for the death of Captain James Burke at Castlemaine, a month earlier31.

170

The next day, Friday September 29th, the army convoy carrying Donal Lehane's remains, the garrison’s wounded troops and around 20 Republican prisoners left Killorglin bound for Tralee. At Ballyseedy Cross Jack Galvin was taken from the main convoy – possibly on Colonel Michael Hogan's orders – and shot several times. The official version was that Republicans, in an attempt to rescue the IRA prisoners, opened fire on the convoy and Jack Galvin was killed in crossfire. Jack's father wrote a letter to the Freemans Journal challenging the military’s version of events. To their credit the newspaper published the letter.

The Cork Examiner gave a more even-handed coverage of events than the Freeman’s Journal

171

The September 27th attack on Killorglin was the high watermark of the Republican campaign in Kerry. In the wake of the failure of the operation, anti-Treaty forces would never again attempt an assault on a similar scale in Kerry. Following military setbacks in Kenmare (September 9th) and Tarbert (September 10th), a further defeat in Killorglin would have been a disaster for the government’s military standing in the county. And it would almost certainly have led to a follow up attack on an isolated garrison elsewhere in Kerry. It is unlikely that Father Nolan’s action was decisive in 'saving' the Killorglin garrison, as the Republicans were already winding down their assault as he was cycling to Tralee. Nevertheless, within a month of the attack General W.R.E. Murphy increased the Killorglin garrison from 70 to 120 troops, showing that there was no room for complacency. The Freemans Journal October 4th edition reports the death of a Denis O'Connor – described as a local scout – who was wounded in the battle for the town and died of his injuries. There is no official registration of his death in Killarney Civil Records. Killorglin baptismal records include two Denis O'Connors. One was born in Laharn. His parents were Daniel Connor and Mary Cahillane, and he was baptised on March 4th, 1904. The second was from Dooks Mountain. His parents were Patrick Connor and Catherine Shea, and he was christened on April 30th, 1905. Aged 17 or 18, O'Connor would have been the youngest fatality of the conflict. The events of September 27th, 1922 left an indelible impact on Killorglin town’s political culture. When the Republicans finally chose a democratic path towards political change with the founding of Fianna Fail in 1926, many of the local party activists had been in the IRA, Fianna Eireann or Cumann Na mBan during the Civil War (1922/23). Most interviewees from The War of Independence/Bureau of Military History days state that Republicans had few friends in Killorglin. The town was a bastion for the Irish Parliamentary Party between 1900-1918. As a result of both of these influences the town voted solidly Cumann Na nGaedhael from the 1920s onwards and its successor, Fine Gael, after 1933. John ‘Jack’ Flynn (1894-1968) from Brackhill, Milltown, first elected a Fianna Fail TD in the 1932 General Election, was an officer in the Republican force that attacked the town in 1922. While Jack Flynn had a very successful political career as a Fianna Fail – and later an Independent TD – until the mid-1950s, he didn’t receive a great deal of support in Killorglin town. Denis Daly (1886-1965) of Caherciveen, who was leader of the two-car convoy sent to seize radio equipment to contact the Aud in 1916 (one of the vehicles went off the pier at Ballykissane), stood as a Fianna Fail candidate in the 1933 election. He led the Caherciveen contingent – Kerry No. 3 Brigade – that participated in the Killorglin assault. Daly secured 8,290 votes in 1933 but did not find Dail Eireann a very stimulating working environment. He did not seek re-election in 1936. It was only with the emergence of Timothy ‘Chub' O'Connor as TD for South Kerry in the 1961 By-Election that voters in the town began to give significant support to Fianna Fail.

172

Endnotes. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31

Harrington, Niall C. .Kerry Landings, 1992. Anvil Books p.35. Ibid, p.93. O’Ruairc, Padraig Og. Blood on the Banner. Mercier Press, 2009 pp156 -170. O'Malley, Ernie. The men will talk to me; the Clare Interviews. Mercier Press, 2016 pp 51- 80. Supplementary details; Ennistymon, Civil Registers (deaths) 1920. Thomas Houlihan, Mill Road resident, in conversation with the author, mid-1970s. Army Census, November 12/13 1922. Killorglin garrison. Irish Military Archives website: Cathal Brugha Barracks, Dublin. By November 1922 the First Westerns had been redeployed. By mid-November 120 troops –mostly Dublin Guard troops – were based in Killorglin. Portrait of Jack Galvin, courtesy of his family. Freeman’s Journal, October 4 1922. Cork Examiner, September 23 1922. Freeman’s Journal, October 4 1922. Census of Population, Killorglin 1901 and 1911. Civil Registrars, Killarney (deaths). Killorglin book. Entry no. 84, 1962. Freeman’s Journal, October 4 1922. Pension File: PD 4879. Jeremiah F. Keating. Irish Military Archives website. Cork Examiner, October 6 1922. Cork Examiner, October 6 1922. Author in conversation with Austin O'Reilly, nephew of Eddie & Maurice O'Sullivan. Cork Examiner, October 6 1922. Pension File:PD 8347. Patrick Murphy. Irish Military Archives website. Freeman’s Journal, October 4 1922. Death Register, Killarney Killorglin book Entry No.170. James M. O'Shea (present at death on September 27, 1922) registered the death on October 17, 1922. Irish Times, October 11 1922. O'Malley, Ernie. The men will talk to me; the Kerry Interviews. Mercier Press, 2012 p159. Author in conversation with Austin O'Reilly on reminiscences his mother, Mary O'Sullivan, shared with him on her involvement in Cumann na mBan. O'Malley, opus cit “Kerry Interviews”. Scully interview. Cork Examiner, October 6 1922. Irish Times, September 29 1922. Pension File; PD 5443. Cornelius Looney. Irish Military Archives website. Gordon, Edith. The Winds of Time. London 1934. p218. Murphy, Karl. General WRE Murphy and the Irish Civil War, 1922-23. Unpublished MA Thesis (1994) NUI Maynooth. Freeman’s Journal, October 4 1922 and Scully interview (on torture) O'Malley, Kerry interviews.

173

Photograph kindly provided by Michael Kenny (mgkennyphoto.com)

174