and this is not about a Derby County player inebriated after a successful cup final.
I am making best guess that this is a ram. The face is definitely more mouse like but given a choice of bull, goat, ram or wildebeest, I’ll stick with ram.
Yet again, a word in Irish brings joy.
I had never stopped to think that there might be a word for rustled cattle, stolen cows, plundered bovine. My geographical and timeline placings did not put me near cattle, or plundering forays.
This morning, reading an email with latest blog post from West Cork History introduced me to Lisheenacreagh – Lisín na Creiche – Little Fort of the Cattle Spoil. The word ‘spoil’ had me intrigued.
Logainm has the spelling as Lisheennacreagh and a suggested history of ‘little fort of the prey or plunders’. WestCorkHistory has details of house being burned down in War of Independence.
‘Creach’ has now entered my vocabulary of Irish words. I cannot see it getting an outing in a sentence too often.
No photograph of a sign today – but will go looking on my next trip to West Cork if a townland plaque does exist for the safe house for the stolen cattle.
The photograph above was taken on 12th June from my car stuck in traffic on the bridge.
I was absolutely amazed at the branding applied to the limestone columns of such a historic and prominent building.
The photograph below was taken less than 24 hours later.
I don’t know whether someone from Cork City Council had a word; or, if Eventbrite themselves decided that it probably wasn’t the brightest of ideas; or, even if someone removed without Eventbrite knowledge.
I do know that, to me, the building looks must better with limestone columns rather than orange columns.
I spotted some street art on Reed’s Square a short while back.
It definitely brought a smile to this reader – and a quick visit to YouTube to listen to the entire once again.
The web revealed that it was voted saddest song of all times – lies, damned lies and statistics methinks.
Quite a few blog posts hereabouts have been accompanied by the expression that ‘it is a bad day when one does not learn something new’.
Last week, I learned something completely new. Upto then, I would have thought that it could not have been true. It was so ‘not a bad day’.
Those of you who regularly pass by these pages are probably aware of my interest in Commonwealth War Graves – the inscriptions; the dates; the distances travelled; the alias; the location; and, the neighbours in the graveyard.
I had understood that such headstones were erected to those who had died in the World Wars or slightly after as a consequence of action in a World War.
This is an expression not exclusive to the Republican side – as I would have thought.
A few months back, work brought me up a few floors and next to what has been a feature in the city skyline for years – a feature that held little attraction to my eye.
Up close, I did like the impact.
I remain unconvinced with regard to the attractiveness of the distant view but it did pique a curiosity with regard to detailing in concrete – a curiosity that was stoked further on our recent trip to Holland.
So no signs today – just some lumps of concrete, for a change
And if you have not figured out the building in Cork, here are the views from the very top
Regular visitors hereabouts will be aware of my attraction for ironwork and metalwork, and particularly old cast metalwork – be it envious of a hopper; the attraction of a forge; the detail in a gutter bracket; a wheelguard calling out to be touched; a graveyard memorial; or even just a kerb.
I own up and admit to being a sucker for a nice piece of metal, or stone, or carving.
I approached this graveyard memorial from the back. It was definitely interesting looking, demanding further inspection. It did not disappoint.
Often the word ‘Erected’ can be seen engraved on headstones. The unique style of this memorial did suggest that Daniel Courtney himself both made and erected the memorial to his wife and son.
The Irish harp and the dates around 1916 added to intrigue.
This was another from my visit to Kilmurry Cemetery in Passage West that went on the TO FIND OUT MORE list – surviving there for only a very short while, compliments of the internet.
The 1901 census confirms that Daniel Courtney was a blacksmith and lived with his wife, Kate, and his 4 year old son, James in 95 Hibernian Buildings in Cork city, an area known as Jewtown. The 1911 Census still has the three in the same house but records that there was a second child, who no longer survived.
To me, that only adds to the power and symbolism of the memorial.
The census records the son as James – so like Thomas Curtin, the name was changed to the Irish version.
The website, History of Na Fianna Éireann, has a photograph of Seamus Courtney who was born in 1897; who became Officer Commanding of Na Fianna in Munster in 1915; who spent three months in Cork Gaol in 1917; who was co-opted by Tómas MacCurtain and Terence MacSwiney onto Battalion Council of Irish Volunteers; and, who died at his aunt’s house in Ballymacelligott in 1918.
The Bureau of Military History witness statement of Commandant P.J. Murphy records that the funeral of Seamus Courtney in Passage West involved firing three volleys of shots, the first time since Easter 1916 that firearms were publicly used.
Daniel Courtney died a few years later in 1921, shortly after the truce following the War of Independence.
It is somewhat disappointing to this observer that his name is remembered in stone and not in the medium of metal with which he worked and with which, I presume, he himself remembered his own family with the pike, a symbol of Irish uprising for centuries; the harp of the Irish Volunteers and the sunburst of Fianna Eireann
Pauline Murphy had an article in The Cork Advertiser which provided more information on Seamus Courtney
Yet another headstone that intrigued with its story – a headstone that shouted out to be place on the TO FIND OUT MORE list.
This headstone is located in Old Kilmurry Cemetery near Passage West. It is not my first blog post from my one visit – and will not be the last.
I did wonder when reading if ‘murder’ was only in the mind and opinion of the grieving brother who erected the headstone to Timothy Connell.
The web quickly led to HistoryIreland which educated that Captain William Stewart did kill Timothy Connell and six others .
However, the court held it was not murder – ‘not guilty, having committed the act while labouring under mental derangement.”
Captain James Gould Raynes, Francis Sullivan, John Keating, James Murley, James Cramer, William Swanson and stableman, Timothy Connell were bound and tied to the floor and attacked with crowbar and then an ax - but they were not legally murdered on board the Mary Russell.
I think I am with Patrick Connell and his use of language.
UPDATE – 2018.10.29
Thanks to Louvain Rees on Twitter, I read a very interesting article on the BBC News website on Murder Stones – headstones where the deceased has been murdered and the headstone contains details.
It makes reference to a book edited by Dr Jan Bondeson which featured a number of Murder Stones.
I sense that this may make an appearance on my bookshelf at some stage…..
Driving down Patrick’s Hill this morning, I spotted a Union Jack flying on Brown Thomas building which was a pile of stones of the former Cash’s in 1920.
City Hall had two Union Jack flags – on the new Civic Offices, and on the City Hall rebuilt in 1932 following the Burning of Cork.
Last week, I was chatting with MOC about the measures being put in place for the visit of Charles and Camilla today to Cork.
He mentioned that when Queen Elizabeth visited a few years back, he saw a Union Jack flying over City Hall. He said that it was not flying there for long as less than an hour later he looked and it was not there – he wondered if the memories of Tomás MacCurtain and Terence MacSwiney tugged at someone’s conscience.
There were no such tuggings this morning – nearly 100 years on, it is now ok to fly the Union Jack.
A warm sunny Monday morning had me walking up Anglesea Street.
I spotted something never seen before with these eyes – paintings standing against the railings of the Model School/Courthouse.
They appeared to be unattended. They did not appear to be for sale – more for taking to a good home. Maybe the artist was travelling and could not take all work. Maybe a studio needed a clearout.
Maybe, the artist, Sophia Felumaz was just having a bit of fun.
My meetings went on quite a bit and I did not return via Anglesea Street so can only hope that they found a home, and not a skip
Maybe ‘a’ scarpered at the last emergency and was unable to be reinstated with’a’, ‘r’ and ‘e’.
Or maybe not…….
To lose a child must be so so tough.
Could you contemplate what it might be like to lose two children?
Now contemplate three children dying.
Now, if your three children died within 8 weeks…..
Last Tuesday week brought me to Passage West to commiserate at a funeral. Emotions were still too raw to sit through the memorial service so I headed homeward on a road not travelled before. I spotted Old Kilmurry Cemetery which called out to offer a few minutes chill-out time.
It was the overwriting on R.I.P of the name Josephine Devereux which caused me to pause and read, but then I saw that six months before she died, her three children, Mary, Eddie & Frank all died within 8 weeks – aged for 4 to 6.
It is now on my mental To Do List to investigate as to TB or other disease outbreak in 1943 that might have claimed four lives so quickly.
In the meantime, it will remain on my brain as a story so so sad.
It may be 75 years ago but that does not reduce the tragedy.
Blogs I Read & Links
Thought & Comment
For the Fainthearted
Bock The Robber
140 characters is usually enough
That’s How The Light Gets In
Tea and a Peach
Buildings & Things Past
Come Here To Me
Pilgrimage in Medieval Ireland
The Irish Aesthete
Ireland in History Day By Day
Buildings of Ireland
Irish War Memorials
The Standing Stone
Time Travel Ireland
Stair na hÉireann
Wide & Convenient Streets
The Irish Story
Our City, Our Town
West Cork History
Cork’s War of Independence
Cork Historical Records
Rebel Cork’s Fighting Story
40 Shades of Life in Cork