Andrew Doherty

21/10/201606/12/2018

Imagine arts festival walk 2016 – A big River

As part of this years Imagine Arts Festival, Deena and I were asked to lead a walk in our local community on a theme reflecting our heritage and arts. To do this we thought about the many songs, stories, poetry and prose that surround our area and reflect our rich maritime heritage. So the walk that departs this morning from Faithlegg Church at 11am is a walk that celebrates the big river, or more accurately rivers ( Barrow, Nore and Suir), that inspire and continually enrich our lives.

Our history stretches long back into antiquity. Gael, Viking, Norman and English have entered the harbour here and used it as a route to open up the entire country. When Ptolmy drew a map of the known world in 2 AD he included Ireland, and a River Birgos, long considered the Barrow. The parish of Faithlegg itself was gifted to a Bristol merchant named Aylward following the entry of King Henry II through Waterford this past week in 1171. Those Bristol men played a significant role in the development of the port, as did the Norman knights and religious orders that followed.

The Aylwards managed to weather many political storms until the arrival of Cromwell put and end to their reign of the area, when it passed to the Bolton family. The last Bolton, Cornelius left us Faithlegg House which he sold to the catholic Powers in 1816. We have the powers to thank for the modern church. Throughout these times Waterford continued to trade and prosper.

Accessed from;
http://www.libraryireland.com/articles/WaterfordQuayDPJ1-23/index.php

A sense of where the area was at is reflected in this piece from a man we have heard from before on the blog. Arthur Young, and his Tour in Ireland 1776-79 from which we take the following:

“The number of people who go as passengers in the Newfoundland ships is amazing; from 60-80 ships and from 3000 to 5000 persons annually. They come from most parts of Ireland; from Cork Kerry etc. Experienced men will get £18 to £25 for the season, from March to November; a man who never went will have £5 to £7 and his passage, and others rise to £20, the passage out they get but pay home £2. An industrious man in a year will will bring home £12 to £16 with him, and some more. A great point for them is to be able to carry all their slops (work clothes)for everything there is extremely dear, 100 or 200% dearer than they can get them at home. They are not allowed to take out any woollen goods but for their own use. The ships go loaded with porrk, beef, butter, and some salt, and bring home passengers, or get freights when they can; sometimes rum.

The Waterford pork comes principally from the barony of Iverk in Kilkenny, where they fatten great numbers of hogs; for many weeks together they kill here 3000 to 4000 a week, the price 50s. to £4 each; goers chiefly to Newfoundland. There is a foundry at Waterford for pots, kettles, weights and all common utensils; and a manufactory of anvils to anchors etc., which employs 40 hands. There are two sugar houses, and many salt-houses…

There is a fishery upon the coast for a great variety of fish, herrings, particularly at the mouth of Waterford Harbour…There are some premium boats here…

The butter trade of Waterford has increased greatly for seven years past; it comes from Waterford principally , but much from Carlow…the slaughter trade has increased…Eighty ships of sail now belonging to the port, twenty years ago not thirty…

The finest object is the quay, which is unrivaled by any I have seen…”

So Waterford as a city and the rivers that formed her harbour were a busy and prosperous place at this point, and it would continue to flourish long into the following century. But a variety of circumstances began to undermine that prosperity and I’m probably guilty of a lot of nostalgia in what I write when I reflect weekly on where we are now, not just as a city, or a port but also our once rich fisheries. When ever I hear the Jimmy Nail song Big River, it stops me in my tracks as I listen to his elegy for the hard work and vitality that was the River Tyne and its heavy industry. I don’t get any sense of what the future of the Tyne is in it however (lyrics here). But I do get a sense of a future in our rivers.

Faithlegg Churches 13th & 19th C

Our walk this morning is not meant to be nostalgic. It’s meant to communicate the rich history and heritage imbued in the buildings, pathways and vistas that surround us. Its meant to explore what they once meant and what the yet might become. It is story, song, poetry and prose of a past, a present and hopefully a future.

The walk is free and booking is via the Imagine Arts Festival Office at 083 313 3273 or email imaginefest@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.

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and history but the daily happenings in our beautiful harbour:

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14/10/201612/07/2023

Henry II lands at Crooke

This coming week will see another significant historic anniversary. For on the 16th of October 1171 Henry II launched his fleet which beached on the 17th at Crooke in Waterford Haven as the harbour was then known. As he stepped ashore he became the first foreign king to do so and it represented the loss of our country’s sovereignty which would endure for 750 years.

There are many intriguing political, religious and entrepreneurial reasons for the Norman invasion of Ireland that began in 1169 on the invitation of an Irish chieftain; Dermot McMurrough. The upshot of it all was the arrival of Henry II, then king of England, Wales and northern France as a means of cementing his authority and control over his new dominion. We would do well to also remember he had papal authority for his conquest in his back pocket!

Arrival of King Henry II in Waterford James William Edmund Doyle (1864)

It is speculated that 400 ships* were required to carry the king’s invaders, estimated at 4000**. Apart from the vista this number of ships must have been created in the harbour, it is fascinating to consider the logistics. 500 knights were said to be among them. That would mean at least 500 horses (although it seems knights took at least two horses along, and then more for carrying, drawing carts etc). The horses were transported which would have been beached and unloaded via the stern. It’s likely that the capacity of the time was between 12-30 horses per ship called Taride. There were the much-feared archers and foot soldiers also. Along with attendants, cooks, religious, servants and hangers-on. I found this account to the invasion plan for the battle of Agincourt, which although two centuries later gives some sense of the headaches of organising such a campaign.

Horses and men being transported on the Bayeux Tapestry
via http://cruisereader.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bayeux-Landing.jpg

The Pipe Rolls help provide an insight into the scale and costs associated with it. This included the hire of ships; pay of masters, seamen, and artificers; payments for horses and their passage; and other provisions and implements such as; hogs, wheat, oats, beans, cheese, supplies of axes, hand-mills (presumably for milling the wheat) and ovens for baking their bread. Implements included pre-fabricated wooden towers for assembling atop mottes, bridges for fording streams and spades, pick-axes, and nails to do the building work.

A rainy Passage East strand at high tide yesterday

Although the landscape at Passage East / Crooke has changed over the centuries, it’s most likely that a beach similar to what now exists, if less vast, was on hand. It’s said that the whole landing took the day and that they camped overnight before departing for the city the following day. In my own opinion, the route they took must have been through Faithlegg, based on the local placename, Strongbow Bridge, which is on the main Cheekpoint Waterford road, just before Jack Meades, at the junction with Carraiglea. Based on this I’d speculate (see map) Henry and his entourage came via Knockroe (A) or Kill St Nicholas(B) (and possibly both) and via Strongbows Bridge (C) in Carraiglea and on past Jack Meades and into Waterford. The present main road from Passage is marked in red and was a later construction

Some of the possible routes are marked in blue.

Henry arrived at the gates of Waterford on the Feast of St Luke, 18th October. From there he took the subjugation of the Norman mercenaries, who had managed to sweep the Irish from power in the SE, and Irish chiefs led by Dermot McCarthy, prince of Desmond. Before leaving Waterford he dedicated a new church on the western side of the city to Thomas a Becket (on Thomas’ Hill) which will be subject to an article in the forthcoming History Ireland magazine by my good friend Damien McLellan. Henry left from Wexford on Easter Monday 1172, never to return. But many followed in his wake. A topic I’ve covered previously in my piece A harbour fit for a King

* I’ve also seen a smaller figure of 240 mentioned but most sources quote 400. I’ve read no analysis of the figures.
** Again 4,000 troops is mentioned as a minimum in almost every account. Some add 500 knights to it, others add attendants, squires etc. It’s possible the 4,000 actually covers the entire entourage including ships captains and crews, which would diminish the actual invasion force considerably.

Byrne. N. The Irish Crusade. 2007. Linden. Dublin
Power. P.C> History of Waterford. City & County. 1990. Mercier Press. Dublin

07/10/201606/12/2018

By Hook or by Crooke

Any walk we ever do that includes the Minaun and its stunning views, invariable leads to a mention of Oliver Cromwell and his vow to take Ireland by Hook or by Crooke. Looking out the harbour we have the Hook peninsula in Co Wexford on the left and Crooke below Passage East Co Waterford on our right. I’m regularly challenged by well informed walkers who opine that of course Cromwell was not the originator of the phrase at all. The fact is there are many different origin accounts, but not much agreement.

The popular view from the Minaun, from a point that some call Cromwells Rock

For example during the week I had a half hour to kill in Dungarvan and whilst in the local studies section read(1) that it was the invasion of Stronbow that created it. The story, which is accurate in geographical terms, states that when he came to invade in August of 1170 he had to choose from meeting his pals already encamped at Baginbun, on the Hook Peninsula, or to actually land (which he did of course) at Crooke. Yet another say it was a phrase coined by the Normans to illustrate that the two most acceptable landing points were via the land mark of the Hook or Crookhaven in Cork harbour.

Prior to Cromwell leaving England, the actual invasion plan for Ireland (his “Southern Design”) was to emulate the Normans. However before he departed Milford, intelligence reached him that the Dublin garrison, which was loyal to the parliamentarians, had secured a major victory. Plans were hastily changed, a compliant and secure beachhead was always going to be more welcome than the risk of attack.(2)

accessed from http://all-that-is-interesting.com/five-lesser-known-genocides

The Wexford Waterford campaign was a mixed bag for Cromwell. In late November 1649 Lieutenant General Jones first took Passage East Fort and then turned towards Faithlegg, where after a brief siege the castle fell and the Aylwards were hung from the trees in their own garden. Cromwell was already at Waterford, but there is only the local lore that he came to Faithlegg, to offer terms to Aylward at Faithlegg Castle, and climbed on to the Minaun to view the harbour.

Most online (and written sources) claim that the phrase originated in the feudal times of Norman rule. The vast majority I have read claim that it was a right (Fire Bote) that allowed peasants take firewood from the kings forests. Effectively by using a bill hook, which would only cut small pieces of timber, or by a shepherds crook, ie that they could pull down and take what could be reached with the assistance of this stick.

A less popular account considers it the means of paying taxes, or tithes to the Manor. You could pay through the growing and harvesting of crops or by raising and keeping animals. In either case part of what you reaped with a hook, or made from the animals was forfeit to the manor. As the essence of the phrase is that something will be done by any means necessary I personally lean towards this account. But I don’t have much support in that.

The “scholars” on internet tend to agree that the phrase is an ancient one, and was used commonly by the 14th century as a expression with the same meaning as in modern usage. As a consequence even if Cromwell didn’t coin it to describe his invasion plan it would be a difficult point for anyone to argue that he didn’t employ such a common phrase as an expression of intent. And perhaps, or maybe even, surely, he reflected on the curious geographical similarity once he arrived. I have a great meas on local lore!

(1) Mackey P By Hook or by Crooke; Six touring Routes, Fifty places to see. 1983 Bord Failte
(2) Walton J. On this Day Vol 1. pp100-101. 2013

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30/09/201606/12/2018

John Seymour – Godfather of self sufficency

We celebrated the Waterford Harvest Festival recently which had a significant input from the local Grow it Yourself GIY project. Its a philosophy that I have subscribed to with my wife Deena for many years, and I have my grandmothers generation to thank for that. But another influence was John Seymour (1914-2004) who has been called the “Godfather of Self Sufficiency” and was the author of the “Bible of Self Sufficiency”. What many apparently didn’t know, was that he lived locally here in the harbour.

A one man rowed prong on Ryans Shore

My first introduction to John was as a teenager standing on Cheekpoint Quay with my Father in autumn time. We stood watching as a Prong approached from Great Island. It was skillfully handled and because of such expertise, it gracefully entered the harbour in the village. My father went forward to take the bow line, which was thrown from out of the Prong, and up onto the quay popped an older man, but how old I could not guess. He had a craggy face, tufty white hair with a flat cap covering a balded dome and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“How are you Bob?” was his first words, and although he nodded towards me by way of a hello, he paid no interest in me but continued a wide ranging chat with my father on his spuds, the weather, local fishing and international shipping. I always marveled at my fathers ability to match anyone for discussion on a topic.

Seymour in later years

Born in England into a wealthy family he got a first class education but “turned his back on it” in favor of agriculture. At 20 he emigrated to Africa where he tried his hand at various ventures and served in WWII. He returned to England after the war, but was said to be appalled at how farming was becoming an industrial process and he rebelled against it, turning to writing and journalism to give voice to his opinions. He started a family in the mid fifties and to sustain them, he set up farming again, but on his own terms and under the principals he held dear. The concepts he espoused were articulated in over 40 books during his lifetime, but I think he is probably best known for his book “The Complete book of Self Sufficency” and here’s a you tube review. It’s claimed the book was an influence for the 70’s BBC comedy series called “The good life”

It was the first book of his that I read, and I’ve read a few since. (A full list here) If I was to try and capture the essence of what he had to say it was probably that you need to live in harmony with nature, and turn it to being your ally in the way you work. Something that is as true for fishing as it is for farming. There were some concepts that I didn’t like, for example he seemed to take a hard line with children in the garden, no messing about, which I would find to be essential. But even if you didn’t like the concept, or the have any interest in the practices, the book itself is remarkable for the images and drawings used, and for capturing a way of life that is now almost extinct.

John came to Kilowen, on the River Barrow (which is just above Great Island on the Wexford side) in 1981 and there he set up another smallholding from where he ran courses and basically lived the good life. He continued to write and make appearances (for example Michael Bance from Woodstwon did a number of pieces with him for Nationwide). But he is perhaps best known at this time for his court appearance with the “Arthurstown Seven”

In 1999, in a direct action response to the growing of genetically modified sugar beet in Wexford, John led a protest against a Monsanto product being trialed in fields near to his home. It was the first of a number of actions. When challenged in court he shrugged his shoulders, tilted his head and quipped – “t’was the fairy’s your honour”. Somehow, I don’t think I’d get away with that defense.

My knowledge of him, his books and the events with Monsanto was yet to come. As we walked to the top of the quay, Seymour headed towards the Suir Inn for a pint and I think he was disappointed we couldn’t join him. Once alone I asked my father the inevitable question, to which my father simply replied “a Brit living the good life”. On further prying they had met whilst sinking a weir up the Barrow and Seymour had rowed across to ask about the process. Walking home that evening what I had yet to realise was that by Seymours terms, we were already living the good life. In many ways including growing our own potatoes and veg, catching and eating our own fish, able to freely gather driftwood to keep the home fires burning.

I would come to live through times that would see that all turned on its head. When as a country we would know the price of everything and the value of nothing. I can only speculate that Seymore came here because he could sense that the life he thought possible, still existed in Waterford harbour. In fighting Monsanto he showed his resolve to try and protect his adopted country. Too bad, those who were born and reared here could not have done likewise.

If you have yet to read Seymour here’s a lovely flavor of his work, titled the Age of Healing
http://thehessiansack.blogspot.ie/2012/06/age-of-healing-by-john-seymour.html

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and history but the daily happenings in our beautiful harbour:

F https://www.facebook.com/whtidesntales T https://twitter.com/tidesntales

23/09/201606/12/2018

The emigrants return – Condon Family reunion, Cheekpoint 2016

Last weekend there was a homecoming of sorts to Cheekpoint. Members of the extended Condon family, the offspring of Mary Doherty and Larry Condon who married in the first
decade of the last century, had a gathering in the village. I was asked to come to one event and lead a
walk onto the Minaun and to the old school house. It
culminated in a party on Cheekpoint Green where Mary was born and
it was a weekend the village will surely remember for many years to come.

My Father Bob, in the 1950’s. The Doherty homestead is on the
green surrounded by a low whitewashed wall

Mary Doherty was one of 10 children (that I know of)
born to Bill Doherty and Bridget (nee Heffernan) on the Green in
Cheekpoint. She worked as a ladies maid in
Faithlegg House for many a year, and it was this that probably gave her the
love she had of company and entertaining visitors to her home. Larry was from the Old Road, his home now
demolished was close to Cassin’s. His parents were James and Ellen. Larry
was a sailor who originally went to sea before the mast, and stories about his
exploits were legion. One I told on
the day went as follows.

Larry, middle row on left, circa 1930’s
Photo: Anthony Rogers

Paddy (Batty, I believe) Doherty went to sea, and he
travelled to Wales and wound up in Newport or Cardiff going agent to agent
looking for a berth. At the end of a
disappointing day he washed up in a café where he had only the money for a cup
of tea. As he went to find a seat he was
hailed by a sea captain who asked where he came from. “Waterford Sir” Paddy replied. “City or County” he was asked. “Cheekpoint, Sir” he replied. “Do you know Larry Condon?” was the next
question. “I do of course” “Are you looking for a berth?, sit down here, ye need look no further” came the welcome response.

As a young sailor the now Captain, was part of a crew on an Atlantic run.
In a ferocious storm the spar on the main mast broke away, but remained
connected to the ship via some of the rigging.
Pitching and rolling in heavy seas, every time the ship healed to port
the spar careered into the starboard and with each impact the timbers weakened. The captain and crew looked on
helplessly. To climb the rigging in such
seas was madness, and yet unless the spar was cut away, it would breach the
side and in the conditions they wouldn’t remain afloat. Suddenly Larry ran for’ad and leaped from the ship onto the rigging and slid down along it to the
tangled spar.

While Larry hacked away at the ropes with his knife, he watched for
the crashing waves and the inevitable collision against the ships side. With each impact he had to cease work and
grasp the spar with both hands. Several
times his ship mates thought he was crushed, or washed away, but each time he
emerged, his determination showing no ceasing.
Finally the ropes were cut away, but as the spar was swept astern, with
it went Larry into the depths of the surging Atlantic. As he disappeared astern a length of ships rope, thrown by the captain, landed atop of him. Miraculously he managed to catch it and hold it, and with it the
crew hauled their saviour aboard.

Mary and Larry set up home at number 3 the cottages (in the
past some called it the street) Indeed
it’s worth recalling that the six cottages that run down to the village quay
would probably not be even there if it were not for the couple. When Mary was to be married she went to her
employer and asked if he would build them a house which they would then repay
via a weekly rent. Pat Power, the then
landlord at Faithlegg agreed. Land
belonging to Larry at the cross roads was earmarked, but on work commencing,
several others approached the landlord with a similar request. He went back to Mary to explain, and told her
that to accommodate everyone, he would build a line of houses, but that she
could have the first choice. As far as I’m aware they had 6 children. 2 girls, Eily and Bessie and 4 boys; Liam, Larry, Jimmy and Christy.

The six cottages, probably the 40’s or 50’s

Eily and Bessie lived locally. Larry died aboard ship in the Indian Ocean in 1950. Jimmy, who anyone in the area will know was a crewman on our beloved Portlairge, also went to sea. Jimmy was passing through the Panama Canal one day when he spotted his fathers ship coming against him. He sang out to inquire if Larry Condon was aboard, that it was his son was asking. A deckhand was seen running and moments later his father arrived at the ships side. They had a brief chat to catch up, both walking towards the stern no doubt, to maintain this fleeting encounter. They hadn’t seen each other in two years, and it would be another year before they actually met each other in Cheekpoint.

Eily (left) and Bessie (Rt) with Kathy Barry in the centre
early 1990’s on a Thursday Club outing to Mellery
Photo: Bridget Power

The most poignant story I heard at the weekend was the
leaving of their son Christy and family in 1955. The 50’s were a hungry and bleak time
nationally (I heard it called locally the black decade, a recent book called it the lost decade). Economic stagnation and loss of confidence was everywhere in De Va Lara’s Ireland and in Cheekpoint even the
fish seemed to have abandoned us.
Without fish the only option in the climate was a long absences away at
sea or emigration. Christy chose the
boat to England, but he left his wife May and the children (I believe it was eight
children at the time) at home.

Christy was set up in the job by his brother Laim. Liam had come in from a cold, wet and fruitless night of fishing with my grandfather in 1946 and spotted an advertisement in a local paper for a new engineering firm British Timken in Northampton. He was interviewed in a hotel in Waterford and was given the job on the spot, He was foreman by the fifties and he helped Christy find his feet in the same company, and with the job he kept the family fed and earned enough to put a deposit on a home.

In the summer of 1955 he returned and the family readied
themselves for the journey. They were
living at the time where the cottage bistro is now situated. The children were all part of the community,
went to school, to mass, played on the village green, swam off the quay. Steps of stairs, they were part of the
vitality of the community. The decision to
leave was a huge wrench. But as big as
it was for the family, it’s often those that are left behind that perhaps feel it more.

Christy in later years, chatting to Jim Doherty on left and
big Patsy Doherty on right. Photo: Anthony Rogers

The evening they sailed down from Waterford on the Great
Western the village turned out to wave them away. Fires were lit from the Rookery to the Mount
and the Rogers family (Eily was married at that stage to John Joe Rogers) lit a fire at Passage
East. Tom Sullivan told me that he was a
deckhand on her that evening, and he overheard one person saying that if only
she would sink now passing the village, the children could swim ashore, and
never have to leave.

The Great Western, inbound to Waterford from the
Russianside 1950’s

I think the extended Condon family were a little surprised
by the welcome they got to Cheekpoint last weekend. Ben Power had up his welcome to Cheekpoint
banner. William Doherty had the village
festooned in bunting. The Development
Group had the green cut, Clem Jacob had a fine marquee to protect them from
the rain and Eamon Duffin with his wife Diane, and son Jim was on hand to provide the music. The sun shone, the tide came in and Cheekpoint looked at its
best. I didn’t manage to count the crowd
there on Saturday, but it was as good a crowd as at any village fun day. The only shame was that so many who would have
loved it, could not have come as they’re gone to their eternal rest.

a small section of the gathering 17/9/2016

I’ve written before about the scourge of emigration as it visited the Moran family, but I reflected there that it was those who were left
behind to carry on, who seem to feel the pain of it more. In speaking with the Condon family the sense
I got was that although they missed, and often returned to Cheekpoint, that the
move to England provided opportunities that Ireland at the time never could. Christy and May wanted nothing but to provide
the best for their children. As a
country we’d do well to remember that with all those who have come to Ireland
in the last number of years, searching for the very same.

My thanks to Larry Condon, Pat Condon and Anthony Rogers and his sister Rosalind in compiling this article. All errors & omissions are my own.

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