Blog Posts - Reading the Signs

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Pink Jobs & Blue Jobs in Castletown

31/3/2017

It was from my sister that I learned of the expressions, ‘pink jobs’ and ‘blue jobs’.

I am not sure of what colour was attributed to the tasks that were shared between her and my brother-in-law, but ‘blue jobs’ were his alone and they included (or more correctly ‘include’) grass cutting; putting out the bins, and potato sowing.

We were in Castletownbere this evening for the removal of Mr. McCarthy.

The shopfront reminded me of Clones.

I smiled, thinking that the Beara division of responsibilities coloured household blue and children pink.

From Kilmalkader to Grafton Street

30/3/2017

A short while back, a blog post arrived in my inbox containing a lead photograph of the boat above and I immediately recognised it as being from a headstone at Kilmalkader in Corca Dhuibhne – the two blogs earlier this week, prompted a third.

The carving is on a beautiful and unusual headstone at the bottom of the cemetery, looking out to sea. The wording engraved is a simple message that Dr. Paddy Moriarty, who ministered to the peninsula for 30 years, died on 31 May, 1944.

My interpretation of the boat was escapism, Jonny Baker’s was returning to a safe harbour – there are probably many other interpretations. The engraving was memorable to more than us.

And that was where the blog would have finished until I went searching for more information on Dr Moriarty and, unless there were two Dr. Paddy Moriarty’s on the Dingle peninsula in the 1940’s, the headstone story weaves through Patrick Kavanagh, Raglan Road, a Fianna Fáil minister, and on to Dido.

‘On Raglan Road of an autumn day I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue’

Raglan Road - Patrick Kavanagh

Dido wrote Grafton Street in memory of her father, who was a nephew of Hilda Moriarty – O’Malley, the dark haired beauty that snared Patrick Kavanagh. The Irish Times said that as ‘a young girl, Dido was obsessed with great-aunt Hilda, the tales of her beauty and her role in Raglan Road’, and that she sung Raglan Road to her father as he was dying.

Hilda Moriarty was a student at U.C.D when Patrick Kavanagh spotted her on Raglan Road – the poem, and song followed. In 1947, she married Donogh O’Malley who went on to be Minister for Education and introduced free post-primary education for all.

In U.C.D., future President, Paddy Hillery, was a classmate. Richard Harris was a friend.

It was Autumn 1944 when Patrick Kavanagh spotted Hilda Moriarty and was smitten. He followed her home to Dingle peninsula, uninvited, that Christmas.

If there was indeed only one Dr Paddy Moriarty, that was the Christmas period that he died, aged 51.

A lovely headstone now has a story attached to it in my head.

‘Hilda was the daughter of Dr Paddy Moriarty who worked as a GP in Dingle, County Kerry. Fellow Kerryman, Con Houlihan, describes Paddy Moriarty as ‘a good doctor and a brave man’. Stormy seas would not deter him from visiting sick patients on the Blaskets or Valentia Island.’

Gary Culliton - Irish Medical Times

‘When Hilda went home to Dingle for Christmas in 1944, Kavanagh followed her. There was no invitation to the Moriarty home, of course. A middle-aged, out of-work journalist and ex-small farmer was not the kind of husband Dr paddy Moriarty envisaged for his beautiful daughter. Kavanagh put up at Kruger Kavanagh’s guesthouse in Dunquin and defrayed his expenses by publishing an article on “My Christmas in Kerry” in the Irish Press.”

Liam Cheasty

Legless

29/3/2017

This was the image that awaited us as we came up Patrick’s St towards the Winthrop St junction at lunchtime on Monday.

The probable, and most boring, explanation is that just having purchased new footwear, a decision was made to ditch the old, rather than bring home.

But such an explanation would not provide distraction time, time to allow the mind to wander, to escape for some chill-out time.

Maybe enough was enough, and walking barefoot was the first step in rebelling against the norms and expectation of society – that quote eventually wore down the mental block providing resistance, the time had arrived when the life would be lived, not chosen.

Maybe, a dare or a bet to act out the Mikel Murfi role had become less fun as sobriety returned in the early hours.

Maybe some escapade the night before resulted in lost or damaged shoes. These boots borrowed, (or retrieved from a recycle bin), until the shoe shop was reached.

This morning’s tweet from the Irish Aesthete demanded that the rambles through my mind become fully formed in the shape of this blog post.

Peter O’Neill-Crowley d. 1867.03.31

28/3/2017

On Sunday, I received a text about events in Ballymacoda at 7.30p.m. on Friday next, 31st March, to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the death of Peter O’Neill-Crowley in Kilclooney Wood.

There is to be a commemoration at the grave followed by a display of information in the parish hall.

Then this morning’s Irish Examiner had further details of the Peter O’Neill-Crowley Commemoration Weekend including a talk at 5.30 at County Hall on Thursday and commemoration at Kilclooney on Sunday.

I first heard of Peter O’Neill-Crowley only a few years back when I read the name of the bridge near Victoria Cross.

Where Bridges Stand by Antóin O’Callaghan advises that the construction of the bridge commenced in 1820; it was named the George IV Bridge; in 1907 Cork Corporation agreed to change name; but, this change did not happen for a few years. The plaque on the bridge says 1911.

Since first spotting the name on the bridge, his name has appeared on a few plaques and memorials that I have seen.

With the 150th anniversary of his death coming up, I thought it appropriate to the plaques together.

Strike

28/3/2017

Discussion a short while ago prompted by Cork Bus Station where the bus areas are full of parked cars and a camper van to dispense drinks to strikers……

Can striking employees enter the employer’s premises and park their cars when on strike?

Can they enter to use the toilet facilities?

Does the insurance cover of the employer extend to private vehicles?

Should the picket be outside the premises? Or can it walk through the premises?

Is the bus lane public thoroughfare or private/semi-private premises?

We didn’t know the answers but expected that they could only do so with permission and then debated as to whether granting such permission would be good or bad for industrial relations.

We did not agree on that either.

So I thought that I’d throw it out to the internet world…..

Section 8 of the Industrial Relations Act, 1990 defines a strike as ‘a cessation of work by any number or body of workers acting in combination or a concerted refusal or a refusal under a common understanding of any number of workers to continue to work for their employer done as a means of compelling their employer, or to aid other workers in compelling their employer, to accept or not to accept terms or conditions of or affecting employment.’

Remembering Thomas Russell

27/3/2017

When looking back through my photographs from Kilmalkader Cemetery for the dramatic masks, I saw that on this day 99 years ago Thomas Russell died. It demanded some web searching.

There is some confusion as to the date of death - Wikipedia says his death was 18th March, 1918; BMH record says 24th March. Both differ from the headstone saying 27th March. He is mentioned in The Clare War Dead by Tom Burnell.

He was teaching Irish at the Sinn Féin Club at Carrigaholt, Co. Clare. He was stabbed and died later that night.

A new name committed to the memory bank.

On 24th March 1918, the usual weekly meeting of the Carrigaholt Sinn Fein Club was in progress. I was there and I was standing at the door. About noon, a knock came to the door which I opened. A British military officer was outside along with some soldiers carrying fixed bayonets. He asked me if I was in charge and I said "Yes". He then inquired if Michael Keane was inside. I again said "Yes". He then asked for Keane who went out to him. The officer then said to me: "You must clear this hall". I asked him what he meant by this action and said that this was a meeting of the Sinn Fein Club which we had a perfect right to hold, that we had been holding meetings Sunday without interference. He thereupon shouted an order to his men to charge and, simultaneously, soldiers with fixed bayonets burst in through the door and formed up into a square in the centre of the room. A military sergeant gave orders to clear the room.

Some of the members got out by the back door. I was still at the front door trying to keep it open as the soldiers had begun to lunge with their bayonets and our people began to stampede. I next felt a bayonet stab in the back which caused me to let go the door, and in a rush out of the building the crowd swept me out into the street. Outside, I heard that Dr. Studdart was in Behan's Hotel and went up to see him. I found him attending to Thomas Russell, a Kerryman who was employed by the Gaelic League as an Irish teacher. Russell had been severely wounded by a bayonet thrust while at the Sinn Fein meeting. Dr. Studdert treated my wound and also those of two others who also had been bayoneted. Russell was -10-S removed to Kilrush Hospital the following morning but died that night. He was buried in Kerry.

BMH Statement of Eamonn Fennell

A Dramatic Headstone

27/3/2017

This morning, I spotted a retweet mentioning that it was #WorldTheatreDay. It included the image of two masks which reminded me of a headstone in Kilmalkader.

A bright lovely Sunday morning last April, this headstone did cause me to pause and wonder, and smile.

I have not seen the masks on a headstone before or since.

It has proved memorable.

Stoned in West Cork – Addiction Likely

26/3/2017

First attempt

Realises curves are difficult

Since starting this blog, and probably even before, I have admired the craft of stone carving and lettering, a craft and skill that was much more prominent.

I am more convinced than ever that the machine engraved lettering on headstones and plaques is so lacking in emotion and consideration to those named when weighted against the hand carved– just think of the reaction you might have to a handwritten letter, compared to a typed or automatically signed letter.

I have come across the lettering of renowned experts – SM and KT; an engraver new to me – TG; and, some old engraving, even with some mistakes.

There are those, including Gerry Adams, who get a buzz from hugging a tree, For me, touching some lovely stonework is a pick-me-up. I always have stones in my pockets.

My admiration of those blessed with the craft of lettering heightened significantly on Friday, when 9.00a.m. saw me heading west into Ahakista on a lovely morning.

A day of handcarving followed, as part of the Stone Symposium, under the direction of expert stone carvers. I now so regret not having organised for attending on the three days.

I sweated and ached. My left hand was very stiff – luckily I lift a pint with my right. Two days later, my back is still letting me know that my body is not sculpted for manual work. But my head and my soul were so much improved.

I will be doing more and have already been on the hunt for tools and checked out Tír Chonaill festival at Glencolmkille in June.

I have completed Day 1 – only 6 years and 364 days more to get it right.

UPDATE 2017.03.27

Finola on Roaringwater Journal has some great photos from the weekend at the Stone Symposium - HERE

Letter to Heaven

25/3/2017

In Clooneyquinn, in Co. Roscommon, they have created the impression of a telephone line to heaven.

West Cork, in typical laid-back and chill-out West Cork style, appears to prefer the old snail-mail.

I have seen and photographed many grottos on my travels but this is the first in a post-box. I have also photographed very many postboxes – including quite a number of disused boxes – but this use is a first. As a positive use of old street furniture, it is definitely the best use of a disused postbox that I have seen.

Yesterday was a great day in Ahakista. I spotted this as I left for home – adding to the smile and satisfaction of the day.

A selection of disused/decommissioned postboxes

Cadet Cleve Soady

22/3/2017

A while back, I heard at a talk that Cecil Guthrie was the only Auxiliary buried in Ireland.

Today, after hanging around the courthouse for most of the day, I took some chill-out time, and walked through the cemetery at the former Church of Ireland church over the bridge on the way upto Macroom square.

There I read of Cleve Soady who died of wounds suffered at the Coolavokig Ambush, near Baile Mhuirne, on 25th/26th February, 1921 – one of a few (or three) Auxiliaries buried in Ireland.

I wonder how long it will be before I spot another Auxiliary’s headstone…..

Coolavokig Ambush Memorial

The Lord Is My Shepard

21/3/2017

Sunday afforded me the chill out opportunity to visit St. Colman’s Cemetery in Cobh. My search for the headstone carved and engraved by Seamus Murphy was successful.

I stopped my search as I passed this grave.

I even paused as to how the word was actually spelled. I pondered the second ‘h’ but remained convinced that there was definitely no ‘a’.

Did the engraver, seller, or buyer pause at the spelling?

Was it sold cheaply as seller was aware of how to spell ‘Shepherd’?

Maybe I need to take more chill-out time and let these spelling issues pass me by – although I suspect that is just the way I was made and will not change.

A Swanzy Connection

20/3/2017

Last Saturday, I attended the talk by Dr. Michael Waldon on the current exhibition at the Crawford Art Gallery – Crawford at the Castle. It was very well delivered and full of information.

One of the paintings in the exhibition is by an artist called Mary Swanzy.

When her surname was mentioned, I immediately thought that I had only heard of one other person with that surname – Detective Inspector Oswald Ross Swanzy was believed to have organised the killing of Tomás MacCurtáin on this day, 20th March, in 1920 – his 36th birthday.

Just over a month before, I attended a talk by Vera Ryan, the curator of the ‘Made in Cork’ exhibition . At that exhibition, less than ten paces from where the Mary Swanzy painting now hangs, was a painting of Terence MacSwiney, a friend and successor Lord Mayor to Tomás MacCurtáin – this heightened my curiosity further.

‘Swanzy’ is not a very common name and I wondered as to whether Oswald and Mary were related.

There have been a lot of web-searches over the past two days and I have learned a lot about both.

Terence MacSwiney - Crawford Art Gallery - Nov 2016

Oswald Swanzy

Oswald Ross Swanzy – RIC Officer – is believed to have ordered killing of Lord Mayor, Tomás MacCurtáin.

Oswald Swanzy was killed leaving church in Lisburn, 22nd August, 1920, by Tomas MacCurtáin’s own gun - a gun held by Tomás MacCurtáin’s granddaughter upto when she donated it to Cork Museum recently.

He was stationed in Carlow R.I.C. Barracks and lived 33 Athy Road, Carlow from 1910 to 1916. The rootsweb directory says he was born 15th July 1881 and baptised on 11th December in Castleblaney.

He is buried in Mount Jerome Cemetery in Dublin as is his father, James (7/9/1849 to 26/2/07) and mother (1855 – 1922). The headstone includes the words ‘who gave his life in the service of his country’.

His parents married in Co. Monaghan in 1877. His father was a solicitor.

His brother, Captain Henry Hubert Swanzy, died of plague when serving in India, aged 28 years on 10th April, 1907. He was born 18th August, 1877.

It appears that the Swanzy had family connections in Belfast, Dublin, Antrim and Monaghan.

They are not listed on the 1901 census online.

Mary Swanzy - Crawford Art Gallery - March 2017

Mary Swanzy

Mary Swanzy was born on 15th February 1882 and died on 7th July, 1978. Her parents were Sir Henry Rosborough Swanzy and Mary Knox (née Denham). Her sister, Clair was six years older. Her other sister was Muriel.

Her first one woman show was in 1913. She continued to paint until her death, aged 96.

She was one of the first Irish abstract painters. Former art critic with the Irish Times, Brian Fallon, believes her to be the best female Irish painter. Elsewhere, I read that she was one of the best artists of her generation.

I learned that her father was an ophthalmic surgeon; wrote 2 books that are still available; was knighted in 1908; and was President of the Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland from 1906 to 1908.

There is a bust of Sir Henry at the Royal Victoria Eye and Ear Hospital in Adelaide Road in Dublin, where Dr. Kathleen Lynn, of 1916 fame, was the first female Doctor.

Connection Made

The R.C.S.I website has a few pages on Sir Henry Swanzy which include that his father was a solicitor, and that the family were descended from Co. Monaghan – a tenuous link to Oswald’s father.

But I had to go back to where I started to get confirmation that Oswald Swanzy and Mary Swanzy, born exactly six months apart, were cousins.

That is one curiosity itch scratched.

If you are interested, details of the Swanzy’s listed in the online census returns are below.

Tomás MacCurtáin bust by Seamus Murphy at Cork City Hall

Dr. Thomas J. Fehily d. 1918.04.13

23/2/2017

Yesterday, I learnt of Thomas Joseph Fehily of Ballineen and was prompted to do some searching.

Some years ago, I came across the treasure trove of a website, Irish War Memorials. It records memorials to those who died in wars – not graves but a memorial to those who died in any war, anywhere, anytime. I have sent on photographs of a few that I have come across on my travels. On my journey home from West Cork yesterday, I came across another.

What do these mean?

15/2/2017

I now recognise many of the things that might be engraved on walls – benchmarks / crow’s feet ; B.O. – Board of Ordnance; and, W.D. – War Department.

These two are on the same wall on Railway Street and are completely new to me.

One is the letter ‘P’ with an upward-pointing arrow.

The other appears to be a ‘W’ or maybe an upside-down benchmark, if the stone was salvaged and re-used from elsewhere.

These are definitely on the ‘To Find Out More’ list – all suggestions welcome

What A Chimney…

6/2/2017

When in Castletownsend photographing the sundial that accompanied Saturday’s blog about that lovely word – Gnomon – I noted the chimney.

I stood in appreciation for a while.

In my working life, I have had to read many construction drawings – just reading, not making.

Since September when I admired the chimney from across the road, I have wondered as to the unfortunate draughtsman who had to represent the chimney in two dimensions from a number of different perspectives,

Maybe this was one of those instances where no design detail was provided, where the designer nodded and yielded to the skill and expertise of the mason/bricklayer.

I have never seen anything like it.

It so goes against what I had understood to be the rules of brickwork and chimneys. To prevent water ingress, surface area should be minimised to one exposed face of the brick. Surfaces where water can lodge should be avoided and not encouraged with shelf effect.
Maybe those rules explain why I have never seen the likes of this before.

I should have knocked on the door to ask as to whether there are leaks around the chimney – but I didn’t.

As good a reason as any for a return visit to Castletownsend.