Reclaiming an Irish Way of St James

This
weeks blog marks a new departure, which is appropriate as we enter a new year.
 I’ve asked a number of people to contribute a piece of writing on the
harbour, and these will feature on the last Friday of each coming month.
Today’s piece first featured in History Ireland this year and was written by a
neighbor of mine, Damien McLellan.  The article explores the historical and present day evidence that points to the harbours past prominence in medieval pilgrimage.  
Every
year for the past 16 years I have walked one of the many medieval pilgrim roads
in France and Spain that lead to Santiago de Compostella in the far north
western corner of Spain. I usually travelled by Irish Ferries to France and
then by train or bus to continue on the Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle in
France or the Camino in Spain. But last year, following an invitation from the Gaultier
Historical Society
 to include in my talk a local connection to
the pilgrimage, I walked from my own front door in Faithlegg, Co Waterford, to
take the much shorter and cheaper (€2) ferry from Passage East to Ballyhack in
Co Wexford. To my great delight, not long after starting up the hill from
Ballyhack, I realised I was walking on an Irish Way of St James, on what I now
believe is the medieval route that Irish pilgrims would have taken travelling
from St James Gate in Dublin to Waterford or returning to Dublin and the
eastern half of the country. This article offers the reasons why I came to that
realisation and all the information you need to make the same journey, whether
on foot or by armchair.
Tomb of James Rice in Waterford’s protestant cathedral
Waterford
Estuary was the arrival and departure point on many significant occasions in
Irish history. It was here at Crooke, near Passage East, on St Bartholomew’s
Eve, August 23rd 1170 that Richard Fitzgilbert de Clare, better
known to us as Strongbow, arrived to complete the Norman
invasion. Later that same year something happened in the English county of Kent
that is not normally seen as relevant to Irish history but I believe is very
much so. On a bitterly cold 29th of December, Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, was
brutally murdered in his own cathedral by four knights acting, so they assumed,
on behalf of King Henry 11, then ruler of England, Normandy,
Brittany, Anjou, Aquitaine and much of Wales. Thomas had been the King’s
closest friend but had infuriated Henry on becoming Archbishop by, among other
things, refusing to hand over to the crown for punishment churchmen accused of
sexually assaulting and murdering subjects. When he became Archbishop, Thomas
was expected to abolish this canon law practice but he refused to. According to
tradition, a hot headed and exasperated Henry had declaimed after perhaps too
much wine, “Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?” and the loyal knights
left France immediately for England.
Pope Alexander 111 demanded that the knights
atone for this sacrilegious atrocity by making pilgrimage to Rome or Santiago
de Compostella. Jerusalem was not an option as it was then under Muslim
control. In the following year, at the Council of Argentan in July, Henry was relieved
of making a penitential crusade to the Holy Land until he had secured control
of Ireland. Ireland had its own troublesome priests and Rome was anxious to
bring them into line. Henry was in no hurry to return to London either.
Pilgrims were already thronging to Canterbury in huge numbers attracted by the
miracles being attributed to Thomas the Martyr. Henry’s head was being called
for and his crown was in peril.
On
October 17th 1171 the bows of Henry’s 400 ships crunched up
onto the safe sandy beaches at Crooke and Passage East. The ships are
said to have carried 500 knights, 4000 men at arms and archers, and thousands
of horses. On the following day, the feast of St Luke, Henry 11 advanced on
Waterford and set about bringing the Normans, the Irish and the remaining
Norsemen into submission to the crown of England. Before leaving for Dublin he
founded a church dedicated to St Thomas the Martyr outside the walls of
Waterford. The church no longer exists but Thomas Hill still leads towards the
site from O’Connell Street in the city centre.
Frances Jobson map of  1591 depicting the temple of St James, Ballyhack
In
the following year, 1172, at Avranches, Henry was given absolution for his part
in the murder of Thomas a Becket but his penance was to provide for the
maintenance of 200 Knights Templars in the Holy Land and
to undertake a crusade, either to the Holy Land or to Compostella. Fearing that
his avaricious sons (especially the future Kings John and Richard the
Lionheart) would usurp his crown while abroad and knowing that funding 200
knights would bankrupt the kingdom, Henry offered instead strategically
important tracts of lands in Waterford to the Knights Templars, including
control of the lucrative ferry rights between Passage East and Ballyhack in Co.
Wexford. In return, they provided sanctuary and protection to travellers,
especially pilgrims.
The
first recorded pilgrimage to Santiago took place in AD 951 and was led by Godescalc,
the Bishop of Le Puy,
 a town in the Auverne region of France.
Among the millions of pilgrims who descended on Santiago during the next few
hundred years were the Irish pilgrims who were identified by the scallop shells
and bone relics recovered with their remains in the 1986 archaeological excavations in Tuam and
in 1996 in Mullingar.
The
pilgrimage experienced a significant lull because of the Black Death in 1347-1349 and the 100
Years War 
between England and France which ended in 1453. There
then immediately followed a long pent-up resurgence of pilgrims making their
way to Santiago, a hundred years more of pilgrimage which ended with the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the Wars of Religion.
Before
I began to look at the Irish dimension I had assumed that only wealthy people,
such as James Rice, mayor of Waterford and wine merchant,
could afford to make the journey by sea, as he did twice, in 1473 and 1483. But
also in 1473, the Mary London, a ship carrying 400 Irish
pilgrims returning from Santiago to Waterford was captured by pirates but
released, minus their belongings, one would assume, at Youghal. In May 1456, an
English pilgrim, William Wey counted 84 ships, many of them from Ireland,
moored in Corunna, the port an easy week’s walk to
Santiago. The authority on this issue, Roger Stalley, estimated that perhaps
5000 pilgrims arrived within the space of a few days and that in this peak
period, two million pilgrims were on the move. This would mean that a
remarkable number of Irish pilgrims were returning to the ports of Dublin,
Drogheda, Galway, Dingle, New Ross and Waterford. I set myself the task of
answering my own question: how would pilgrims who had travelled from St James
Gate in Dublin return there from Waterford?
I
was assuming that the majority of pilgrims were without the funds to purchase
direct passage to Corunna and would walk overland from Dublin to Waterford or
New Ross and then by sea to France to continue overland across the Pyrenees to
Santiago. The motivation for the pilgrimage for many was to save their souls
from eternal damnation and the devout pilgrims understood that the journey
should be a penance and an ordeal, not that a sea voyage across the Bay of
Biscay in those days would be a picnic. They would also know, by word of mouth,
that abbeys would provide a chain of accommodation, food and medical care from
the coast of France to Santiago, free of charge, providing they were genuine
pilgrims.

A laneway out of Ballyhack
My
plan that day was to walk from the quay at Ballyhack north
towards New Ross as the crow flies, or as the pilgrim
walks, the easiest and most direct route and to see what I encountered on the
way. I had done some earlier research, looking for a church to start from, a
pilgrim essential. On the current Ordinance Survey map a graveyard is indicated
nearby and Frances Jobson’s 1591 map shows that a church of St James once stood
on that site. This was a very exciting discovery as there are churches
dedicated to St James at Dingle, Drogheda and Dublin, at St James’ Gate, all
known departure points for pilgrims, The churchyard presently looks down on to
Arthur’s Bay but I understand that its earlier name was St James’ Bay. The
returning pilgrim, landing at St James’ Bay would surely give thanks at the
church before continuing up a broad track that today leads to a large open
field where a fair was held every Michaelmas and also on St
James’ Day,
 July 25th. specialising in black
bullocks and hogs. At the top of the hill the pilgrim would see ahead the
Blackstairs Mountain and Mount Leinster and looking back would view Creedon
Head looming left out into Waterford Estuary.
But
if you are following my footsteps, return to the churchyard, walk through it
towards the main gate, and turn right after climbing the style at the gate.
This is the old road which was replaced by the modern road below you, taking
traffic to and from the ferry. On your left you will come to a very old ruined
farmhouse which I mistook first for the church because it is exactly oriented
towards the east. Lying on the ground before this building is a millstone and
if you explore further to your left you will find the protected remains of
where millstones were cut in medieval times from the surface of the outcropping
red sandstone. There must have been accommodation here for the monks from
nearby Nook and perhaps pilgrims waiting for a boat to France or England, with
commanding views up and down the river, might have earned their keep in return
for some manual labour.
Dunbrody Abbey, Co Wexford
Continue
to the end of this road and turn right on to the main road up from Ballyhack.
Soon you will be facing a green lane and you may well imagine you are now
walking a Way of St James. Turn left when it re-joins the main road. Turn left
again when you reach Grange and on your right you will pass a Holy Well. Your
next stop will be Dunbrody Abbey where pilgrims would have
been able to claim hospitality. Continue to head north and you are in Horeswood,
passing another church of St James.
Next
stop, keeping straight on as always, is Burntschool Cross Roads, past standing
stones to Whitechurch, where there is a church, through Ballykelly,
another church, and then the very medieval hamlet of Oldcourt, where there is a
church behind a barn. This number of churches and ancient remains suggests to
me that there are strong reasons to believe this road is a holy way.
It
is now a long slog beside the main road into New Ross and I chose to drive the
next very long section from New Ross to St
Mullins
. The river Barrow is practically a gorge between these
points and there is no river path. At St Mullins among the many ruins you will
find a small chapel dedicated to St James but again no explanation as to why,
although a very popular Pattern Day is held here every year, on July 25th,
the feast-day of St James.
St James cell, St Mullins, Carlow
Below
the medieval ruins the river now has a broad towpath on the right bank facing
north, called ‘the trackline’ by Barrow people but in my opinion it is in fact
the Slighe Chualann, identified by Colm
O’Loughlainn as one of the five ancient roads, the Road of Cuala, “a district
comprising South Co. Dublin and part of Co. Wicklow”. Going north or home as a
pilgrim you will continue alongside the Barrow through Graiguenamanagh to
Leighlinbridge, where you will turn right away from the river and head north
east on the Slighe Cualainn though the possible pilgrim stops of Tullow,
Rathvilly, Baltinglass, Dunlavin, Ballymore Eustace, Kilteel, Rathcoole,
Saggart, and Tallaght.
You
will now be within easy reach of the original starting point at the church of St James in
Dublin 
where pilgrims would certainly have offered prayers of
gratitude to St James for a safe journey home and one made possible by the roads
and facilities on offer all along the way since arriving at St James Bay in
Waterford Harbour.

Damien
McLellan is a consultant psychotherapist and also teaches at Carlow College. He
is grateful to his colleague, historian Dr Margaret Murphy, for her generous
assistance in providing crucial research material.
Niall
Byrne K.M. (2008) The Irish Crusade Dublin: Linden Publishing
Billy
Colfer (2004) The Hook Peninsula Cork: Cork University Press
Patrick
C Power (1990) History of Waterford City and County Dublin:
Mercier Press

I’d like to thank Damien for trusting me me to reprint his article here today. I hope to line up other contributions which will go out on the last Friday of each month. For January we will have a memory of Dunmore East in the 1950’s from David O’Carroll, the son of the then harbour master. David’s piece literally takes us back in time, and captures the comings and goings and daily happenings in a busy fishing harbour. For February we will have a piece from my cousin James Doherty on the incidents of 18th C smuggling in Waterford harbour. In it James looks at the evidence from newspaper accounts and other sources which highlight the scale of this once common practice. If you have a piece you would like to submit for consideration, all I ask is that it relates to Waterford harbour, increases the knowledge and appreciation of our rich maritime heritage and is approximately 1200 words long.  Please contact me via russianside@gmail.com

I publish a blog each Friday.  If you like this piece or have an interest in the local history or maritime heritage of Waterford harbour and environs you can email me at russianside@gmail.com to receive the blog every week.
My Facebook and Twitter pages are more contemporary and reflect not just heritage 
and history but the daily happenings in our beautiful harbour:  
F https://www.facebook.com/whtidesntales  T https://twitter.com/tidesntales

An emigrants Christmas wish

To celebrate Christmas this year, I thought I’d bring you the words across the Irish sea, an emigrant’s lament, a cousin of mine from the Russianside, but one of my grandmother’s generation.  Fr Tom Doyle was one of two brothers to enter the priesthood and both spent their years in England and beyond.  This piece was published in the Munster Express in the 1960’s and the clipping was found by a relation of mine recently.
Fr Tom saying mass in the home of his cousin in 1980’s
L-R Jim Duffin RIP, Maura Moran (my maternal Grandmother) RIP, Gerry Murphy, Ella Hallahan RIP
Mary McDernott RIP, Fr Tom RIP, Brian McDermott RIP, Maureen Burke RIP
Memories
T’was Christmas Eve, I stood on Mersey’s Strand
And wished I were back home in Ireland.
Down by the Suir and gazing at the hook
Blinking “welcome home” to Passage and to Crook.
To Cheekpoint and my home of days gone by.
When Christmas really was a feast of joy.
I heard the slough of boots across the pass
That led to Faithlegg Church and Midnight Mass.
The heart greetings “Merry Christmas Pat”
The same to you, may all your pigs grow fat!
And in the morn, the tang of burning peat
Spurred on by turning wheel to cook the meat.
The crowded table on the old stone floor.
The stranger always welcome at the door.
The lamp-lit darkness of the Christmas night.
When tales of ghosts turned many faces white:
The fiddler played, the elders danced with glee.
And Grandpa bounced me on his bony knee!
Those were the days with innocence abroad
And Irishmen knew how to praise the Lord.
I see it all and sigh, and inward’ pray.
God bless the Emerald Isle on Christmas Day
Tom- An Exile
The house described above, is my aunts, Margaret O’Leary. His Grandpa was my own Great Grandfather;  Joseph (called Jose) Doherty of the Russianside who was married to Ellen nee Walsh. They had 9 children; one was my Grandfather, Andy, another, Tom’s mother Ciss. Ciss married a Wexford man named Joseph Doyle and they had 6 children, Tom was one of the youngest, born in 1919.  The family emigrated to Liverpool early on.
Ellen & Jose in the Russianside early 1900’s
Photo courtesy of Sean Doherty

Tom and his older brother Michael, both entered the priesthood, Tom was ordained a priest of the Monfort Fathers in 1948.  Fr Tom arrived  to Cheekpoint every summer for his holidays and offered mass in local homes, and always mass at Faithlegg church and Crooke if required.  I recall one Sunday, when I was serving as an altar boy.  A new PA system had been recently installed, so that the priest didn’t need to strain his voice to be heard. Now Tom had no fear of straining his voice, which boomed out and dominated every conversation. As my Father put it, “you’d hear him in Wexford even if there was a gale from the east”. When Tom started mass that morning even the sleepiest parishioners sat bolt upright under the aural assault. So much so, that during the mass I was called back into the sacristy by the chapel woman at the time, Joan O’Dwyer and told to turn off the PA.

Fr Tom was the only priest I ever heard called by his first name, something he actively encouraged. He considered Cheekpoint home, and never missed a visit to the Russianside.  One of my fondest memories of him was the summer I was asked to show him round the village, and tell him the names of the people inside and who they were related to. Once I connected it back to my Gran’s era it all fell into place with him, and when the door was opened he was immediately at home, and always welcomed. On the occasions I got inside the threshold, I’d be treated like royalty, even if the occupant would turn their head to me normally.  Fed and watered and occasionally an envelope passed to Tom for prayers, we would saunter on to the next house and my intelligence called for once more. At the end of the visits each day, there was “an economic recompense for my time”, as he put it.
The one thing I never realised until I started to research this piece, and certainly not apparent from the poem above, was that Tom wasn’t actually born in the Russianside at all.  I can only imagine that having been born into the Irish emigrant community of Liverpool, the Christmas traditions must have been ingrained into him from the stories of his mother and his older siblings.  It was obvious to me all those years ago, that he certainly felt like he was coming home each summer.  Fr Tom died on the 10th November 1997 aged 78 and was buried in his communities burial ground at Romsey near Southampton. His obituary has more of his career.
If you like this piece or have an interest in the local history or maritime heritage of Waterford harbour and environs you can email me at tidesntales@gmail.com to receive to your email.
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Remembering the SS Formby and SS Coningbeg

Within two days in December 1917, Waterford experienced its biggest loss of seafaring lives with the sinking of Clyde Shipping’s SS Formby and SS Coningbeg. Of the 83 souls who perished 67 were from Waterford, the harbour and hinterland and the effects were profound.  Because it was wartime, very little was written due to censorship, and many misunderstood the reasons behind it.  But in 1992 a Wexford man, Richard McElwee, committed pen to paper and finally told the full story of the loss.

The SS Formby was built by Caledon SB. & Eng. Co. Ltd., Dundee in 1914 and was considered the flagship of the Clyde shipping company. She was 270 feet long, 1283 tons and had a top speed of 14.5 knots. Although primarily a cattle transport vessel she could accommodate 39 first class and 45 steerage passengers.  
Photo of a ghostlike SS Formby
via Shaun McGuire who had it from a daughter of Thomas Coffey

The SS Coningbeg was originally SS Clodagh built for the Waterford Steamship company by Ailsa shipbuilders in Troon, Scotland, August 1903. When the company was sold to the Clyde in 1912 she was renamed. In 1913 she underwent a total refit. She was also 270 feet long, 1278 tons and capable of a top speed of 16.5 knots. She could carry between 5-600 head of cattle and 86 first class and 74 steerage passengers. 

SS Coningbeg accessed 3/12/16 via
http://www.waterfordtreasures.com/news/bite-size-culture-talks
-the-sinking-of-ss-formby-the-ss-coningbeg

Both ships ran a twice weekly service carrying passengers, livestock, foodstuff and general cargo from Waterford and returning with passengers and general cargo from Liverpool. The trip was 16hrs one way and both ships had a reputation for strict time keeping.  As WWI raged the ships and crews were constantly in danger.  Not alone did they assist the war effort, but the kept both sides of the Irish sea fed, and more importantly for themselves, no doubt, provided food and an income for their own families.  Both ships had had skirmishes with U Boats and one example I found from the Munster Express of Feb 1915 concerned the Irish sea being temporarily closed to shipping due to a U Boat threat. The Coningbeg was confined to Waterford port which caused mayhem as her cargo of cattle had to be unshipped and accommodated elsewhere. Meanwhile the families of the Formby gathered under an increasing cloud, fearful as there were unfounded rumours that she was sunk.  Later that month, the Kerry News ran a story that the Coningbeg failed to put to sea, due to a dispute between the crew and the owners over a war bonus for the risks they were taking.

At 11am on Saturday 15th December the SS Formby slipped her moorings and travelled out the Mersey and into the Irish sea. Aboard were 37 crew and 2 passengers.  She was due into Waterford the following morning, but when she did not arrive there was only minor concern.  As Saturday had progressed a storm of sleet and snow had developed and had become a gale overnight, causing widespread damage.  In Waterford it was presumed the Formby was sheltering and would be in to port later on Sunday. She never arrived.  As the fears grew it was decided to send word to Liverpool to halt the sailing on the Coningbeg.  No telegrams could be sent however, as all the lines were down following the storm.

Having sat out the storm in Liverpool, the Coningbeg set sail for Waterford Monday 17th December at 1pm.  Oblivious to the concerns in Waterford she departed with a crew of 40 and 4 passengers. When she failed to arrive pandamonium esued.  Family, relatives, neighbours and friends gathered at the Clyde company offices for any scrap of news.  Over Christmas the vigil continued but on Thursday 27th December the company felt obliged to write to each family confirming everyones worst fears, that they could no longer hold any hopes for their loved ones return.

Of the ships no trace was reported, and although locally it was considered to be too much of a coincidence that two fine ships would both disappear within two days of each other, except there was hostile involvement. A special appeal fund was created to fundraise and provide for the seamen’s families until such time as they could qualify for the Board of Trade War Loss Pension (1920 in some cases). The appeal fund was still in use in 1927.

In time the body of the Formby stewardess Annie O’Callaghan would wash ashore in Wales, the only body to be recovered apparently (or at least positively identified).  The remains of two lifeboats and a nameplate of the Formby also.  (I read a newspaper report of a nameplate of a nameplate of the Coningbeg washing up too, but could not find any evidence of it.) But it would be the publication of Ernest Hashagens war diary which would finally confirm the fate of both ships, blasted from the Irish sea without any warning, or chance to get to their lifeboats*, by the U Boat U-62.

Down the years many still held that the ships were lost in a terrific storm. But on the 75 anniversary Richard McElwee published his account of “The last voyages of the Waterford Steamers“.  The book which goes into significant details into the sinkings and included excerpts from Hashagens memoirs makes for chilling reading.  But it also served to remind the public of the service these sailors gave to the city, country and the war effort of WWI. 

In remembering them, it possibly also led to the significant memorial, now situated on the quay of Waterford (above) which lists all the names (as does the link here written by a fellow Cheekpoint man) and was unveiled by the then president of Ireland Mary Robinson in February 1997. They are also remembered on the Tower Hill Memorial in London to merchant seamen, the Dunmore East memorial wall to Waterford seafarers and the more recent memorial wall in Dungarvan to those who died in WW I.  But I imagine, they are remembered no where more often than in the hearts of their own families and particularly at this time of year.

If you would like to hear the story here’s a fine audio piece from the BBC on the sinkings and aftermath narrated by Julian Walton

* It should be said that each ship had a gun aboard with two Royal Navy Gunners apiece.  Had the U Boat surfaced and gave an opportunity to evacuate the ship, there was also a risk of being fired on, rammed or being outrun.  On the other hand, and perhaps more dangerously, it could have been a Q ship

I publish a blog each Friday.  If you like this piece or have an interest in the local history or maritime heritage of Waterford harbour and environs you can email me at russianside@gmail.com to receive the blog every week.
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Tides’n’tales walk via Mark Power Waterford Epic Locations

I publish a blog each Friday.  If you like this piece or have an interest in the local history or maritime heritage of Waterford harbour and environs you can email me at russianside@gmail.com to receive the blog every week.
My Facebook and Twitter pages are more contemporary and reflect not just heritage 
and history but the daily happenings in our beautiful harbour:  
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The construction of Dunmore Pier

In 1824 Rev Richard Hopkins Ryland published The history, topography and antiquities of the County and City of Waterford.  The Dungarvan native and amateur historian had set out to challenge “the incorrect ideas and false representations of flying travellers and tourists”1.  As part of his research he visited the port of Dunmore as it was being transformed under the watchful eye of the great engineer Alexander Nimmo. What follows is his description of the construction.

Steam paddle packets Meteor and Royal Sovereign which operated
on the Dunmore service in the 1820s
Maritime Museum, Greenwich via Roger Antell 

“Nearly at the entrance of the harbour is the village of Dunmore, formerly a place of resort for fishermen, but now a delightful and fashionable watering place…Dunmore has latterly been much enlarged; it is now a post town and a station for the packets which carry the mails between England the south of Ireland. {I’ve written previously about the earlier Waterford service} By an act passed in the 58th year of Geo III cap.72 the limits of the harbour of Dunmore are defined to be ‘from Shannoon Point otherwise called Black Nobb, to Ardnamult Point’ This act also regulates the duties to be charged on vessels arriving at, or sailing from, the harbour: it also authorises the appointment of a harbour master…

The pier of Dunmore is situated on the southern shore of the bay of Waterford, where the haven joins the Atlantic Ocean.  The harbour for the packets is formed under Dunmore head by the projection of a mole, which is carried a considerable distance to the sea.  The object being to reduce the fury of the waves, which, when impelled by the south and west winds, dash against the coast with inconceivable violence, a mole, supported by an immense breakwater, was commenced from a little within the head of Dunmore.  By vast exertions, and by procuring rocks of great size, the mole was extended 800 feet into the sea, which, at the place where the breakwater is formed, is from four, five to six fathoms deep.  The mole is raised on an inclined surface between forty and fifty feet above low water mark, roofed or paved with great masses of stone, embedded in a species of mortar which becomes hard under water; the inclination is such to allow the fury of of the waves to expend itself before reaching the parapet, which surmounts the whole, at an elevation of seventy feet perpendicular above the foundation.  The pier and quay for the shipping are erected inside the mole, and present a most beautiful specimen of masonry.  This pier, or quay, is 600 feet in length: the depth of low water at the entrance is twenty five feet, and at the innermost part eighteen feet.  The greatest part of this noble quay under low water has been built by means of a diving bell, of which useful machines there are two here, on very improved principals.

Under the superintendence of skillful engineers, the workmen (untaught peasants) soon learned to move rocks with admirable dexterity: few of these were less than five or six tons weight, and some exceed ten tons.  Those immense mountain masses, torn from the solid rock, were transported with apparent ease, on inclined planes and iron railways, to the place where they were squared with the greatest exactness: they were then disposed in their places, accurately fitted and joined together without the clumsy iron bolts and bands, which are at the same time laborious and expensive…


Steam packets sail every day between Waterford and Milford and afford a cheap and expeditious conveyance: the passage is usually effected in about 9 hours.  The time occupied in conveying the mail between London and Waterford rarely exceeds eight and forty hours*.  On the arrival of the packet at Dunmore, in the evening, a well appointed mail coach is to convey the passengers to Waterford; and from thence coaches proceed to Dublin and Cork, where they arrive the following morning.

*The Cinderella, the first vessel of this description on this part of the coast, performed the passage in a little better than seven hours. She left Milford at half past nine in the morning of the 16th April, and arrived at Dunmore a quarter before five the same evening. The usual hour of arrival is between seven and eight; but it is expected that when the arrangements are completed, the packets will arrive three or four hours earlier. The packets do not leave Dunmore now until twelve o’clock at night.          [Rylands endnote]

The results of the building work described can still be appreciated today, and it’s certain that the Reverend had first hand accounts with both his eyes and ears and from the engineers employed in the construction.  It was a pity he gave no mention to the construction of the lighthouse, which leads me to think he visited Dunmore a few years before the book was published.  The mails continued to arrive and depart at Dunmore until 1835.  But with the coming of steam power and the ability to bend the winds and tides to the will of the ships, the packet moved to Waterford city.

1 short biographical account via Fewer.T.N. Waterford People. A biographical Dictionary.  2004.  Ballylough Books. Waterford

The extract above was sourced from Ryland.R.H. The history, topography and antiquities of the County and City of Waterford. 1982. Welbrook Press. Kilkenny pp239-243.  Thanks to Damien McLellan for the loan of his copy.

I publish a blog each Friday.  If you like this piece or have an interest in the local history or maritime heritage of Waterford harbour and environs you can email me at russianside@gmail.com to receive the blog every week.
My Facebook and Twitter pages are more contemporary and reflect not just heritage 
and history but the daily happenings in our beautiful harbour:  
F https://www.facebook.com/whtidesntales  T https://twitter.com/tidesntales