Chris Thile - Sweet Afton by Robert Burns

A beautiful rendition. The Scottish influence on Dundalk in County Louth is shown by the cigarette brand 'Sweet Afton' which was manufactured there for many years, and the packaging and advertising for which has images of Robert Burns. Some of this is in display in Dundalk County Museum. Burns' sister Agnes lived there, and her cottage still stands at Stephenstown Pond.

Robert Boyle - a biography (1914)

I came across this book the other day, available on Archive.org here. It was written by Edinburgh author Flora Masson (1857-1937) who also wrote biographies of English writer Charles Lamb, of her friend Florence Nightingale, and the Bronte family, as well as guides to London, Edinburgh and Aberdeen.

Boyle (1566 - 1643) was the 1st Earl of Cork, and Lord Treasurer of Ireland. He has a lengthy entry on Wikipedia here. This excerpt comes from page 300 of Masson's book:

'... Another proclamation in London, but this time of an Anglo-Dutch Prince, and a Princess who was not only the daughter of James II but the granddaughter of Hyde, Earl of Clarendon. Another bloody rebellion in Ireland, another chapter of massacre and terrorism ; but this time it was Ulster, and the Ulster Scots, who were fighting for Protestantism. Robert Boyle and Lady Ranelagh, growing old in the house in the Mall — two children of the great Elizabethan Puritan Earl of Cork — had watched Munster pass again into the hands of the Catholic Irish ; but they lived just long enough to see William and Mary Sovereigns of England, and to have the tidings of the Siege of Londonderry and the Battle of the  Boyne ...'

The context is stereotypical, but here is the term 'Ulster Scots' being used by an Edinburgh writer in 1914.

A letter from Robert Burns, 9th December 1789

To Robert Graham Esq. of Fintry

'... Forgive me, Sir, for the stupid length of this epistle. I pray Heaven it may find you in a humour to read The Belfast New Almanac ...'

Scottish? British? Burns and Bruce

The repetitive old debate is back on again this week - was Robert Burns a Unionist or a Nationalist? I have mentioned it here before.

Like haggis with chilli flakes it has all been given a bit of extra spice this year with the forthcoming Scottish referendum - would Robert Burns vote 'yes' for Independence from Britain, or 'no' and remain in the United Kingdom? Even academics are weighing in on the debate, which seems to be getting pretty nasty.

The referendum has been timed to coincide with the 700th anniversary of King Robert the Bruce's victory over the English at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. Even the commemoration of this event - a huge battle re-enactment and a multi-million pound visitor centre at Bannockburn on the outskirts of Stirling, costing about £20 per person to attend - has been drawn into controversy as Stirling City Council have booked a completely free of charge British Armed Forces Day event for the very same weekend, and the two events may now be marketed together. There is a view that this has been done deliberately, to diminish the likely nationalist sentiment at Bannockburn.

As ever, history is not that simple. There is a view that the Bruce masterplan was to ultimately take control of all of what today we call Great Britain and also Ireland. I'll post a bit about this soon.

If that is what Bruce was at, then of course he (and his brother Edward) failed. But nearly 300 years later it was Robert the Bruce's successor, King James VI of Scotland, who succeeded in this mission. In July 1603 he was crowned as King of England and Ireland as well as Scotland. James created the United Kingdom. And a few years later, the disgruntled Englishman Guy Fawkes famously attempted, in his own words, 'to blow the Scots back to Scotland'.

Ambitious Scots were the first Unionists. James did what Bruce had failed to do. Historical events and commemorations do not easily fit onto today's simplistic political debates - and that applies in Northern Ireland just as much as Scotland.

Fragments

A lot of the time I find that cultural items which once were treasured here, have over time been discarded, thrown away, left to deteriorate - even quietly sold off out the back door - and then they turn up on the other side of the world, or have been found languishing in a store, or hanging in obscurity on a wall. And relationships which should be in place, aren't. When the fragments are reassembled and restored, when new connections are made between people, powerful things happen. Exciting times.

All Made Up

On St Patrick's Day of 2006 I (then the fairly new Chair of the Ulster-Scots Agency) was invited to give a 20 minute talk at the IFEA (International Festivals and Events Association - website here) Conference which was being held at Belfast Waterfront Hall. It was quite a coup for a major annual business conference event to be held here, and the foyer of the venue was full of international visitors. I slipped through the crowd unnoticed, got my Powerpoint presentation to the technical people, tested that it was working, and then headed out to queue at the tea and coffee table. There was a sizeable crowd gathering, none of whom had ever set eyes on me before, and as I stood in line I overheard a conversation about myself. It went along the lines of:

'So who's on next?'

'Ulster-Scots'

'What's that?'

'Oh, that's the Protestants here pretending they have a culture. You're in for a laugh'.

Guffaws.


Undeterred, I took to the stage with those pompous, arrogant and ignorant tones still ringing in my ears. I gave my presentation on the impending 400th anniversary of the Hamilton & Montgomery Settlement of 1606, our close proximity to Scotland (Belfast is closer to Scotland than to the Republic of Ireland), drew parallels with the Jamestown Settlement of Virginia in 1607, outlined the events, projects and activities which were planned for the commemoration, and made suggestions as to how it could become an annual event.

Mr Pompous and his guffawing mates did not come to speak to me at the end - but a number of international visitors did, speaking warmly of the similarity of experience with their own nations, especially seafaring ones, where migration and movement is acknowledged and understood.

I think - I hope - we have come a long way since 2006. The Waterfront Hall is, next weekend, the venue of a major Burns Night celebration, I think the second or third consecutive time it's been held there, having been at the Ulster Hall before that. Tickets are on sale here. But of course there are still a good few ignorant morons to contend with though - people with little knowledge or understanding, but huge opinions.

Real words

'... I was rapt in the discovery that "thole" and "snash" were real words, and that I might use them in future without shamefacedness ... the Gaelic Revival has repopulated the other three provinces, and then glens and mountains of Ulster, with fairies and leprechauns whose airy tongues syllable a new language that is also old.

But round about my part of the world we still people the dark hours with material and Gothic shapes, and call, in his own speech, on the great enchanter, Robert Burns ...'

 - from An Ulster Childhood by Lynn Doyle (1921), from the chapter entitled 'Burns in Ulster'.

Logan Braes - Robert Burns

The Logan Water runs through the hills in between Muirkirk, Strathaven and Lesmahagow. It's a rural and remote spot - when this was written in the early 1700s it must have been even more so. Burns wrote the adaptation below. A stirring and emotive account of a young wife and mother wishing for her conscripted husband to return.


O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide, 
That day I was my Willie's bride, 
And years sin syne hae o'er us run, 
Like Logan to the simmer sun: 
But now thy flowery banks appear 
Like drumlie Winter, dark and drear, 
While my dear lad maun face his faes, 
Far, far frae me and Logan braes. 

Again the merry month of May 
Has made our hills and valleys gay; 
The birds rejoice in leafy bowers, 
The bees hum round the breathing flowers; 
Blythe Morning lifts his rosy eye, 
And Evening's tears are tears o' joy: 
My soul, delightless a' surveys, 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush, 
Amang her nestlings sits the thrush: 
Her faithfu' mate will share her toil, 
Or wi' his song her cares beguile; 
But I wi' my sweet nurslings here, 
Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer, 
Pass widow'd nights and joyless days, 
While Willie's far frae Logan braes. 

O wae be to you, Men o' State, 
That brethren rouse to deadly hate! 
As ye make mony a fond heart mourn, 
Sae may it on your heads return! 
How can your flinty hearts enjoy 
The widow's tear, the orphan's cry? 
But soon may peace bring happy days, 
And Willie hame to Logan braes!

Shared Past

There is a lot of talk in Northern Ireland about a 'shared future'. The trouble with this term is that its repeated usage implies that there was never a shared past. Which there was, on many levels. I am often reminded of George Orwell's 1984, where the Ministry of Truth tells the population that they have always been at war with their latest enemy - '...Oceania was at war with Eurasia; therefore Oceania had always been at war with Eurasia...'. Some people need to tell us this, in order to sustain their own present-day support base.

Anyway, here is a lighter example of a 'shared past'. The Newtownards Chronicle for 26 December 1936 has a brilliant story of (what I suspect was) cross-community co-operation:

Entitled 'Poteen in the Ards: Portavogie Man Charged', it is a long account of a trial at Greyabbey Petty Sessions where a potato farmer called William Piper from Portavogie got three months jail for having a large supply of poteen (illicit home-brewed alcohol) and a loaded 422 revolver and 81 rounds. Piper (its fair to guess he was a Protestant) claimed he'd been given the drink by a man called Samuel Doherty from Ballygelagh (its fair to guess he might not have been a Protestant), and that the gun had been brought from America by his uncle 40 years earlier, as a present for their father. Willam Piper said he'd been training his wife to shoot it as they kept 'a good deal of money in the house.'

Sergeant B McFetridge said he raided the place on 16 November, and found a 10 glass bottle of poteen in the dining room, two more bottles with about 3 glasses each still in them, and an empty bottle on the scullery floor. Piper then dashed for the cattle shed where the Sergeant found him, between two cattle, with a large stone jar of the stuff wedged between his knees, trying to get the cork out. 29 empty bottles were also found.

Doherty had a track record for distilling his own stuff, and had been raided himself on 13 November. Doherty told the magistrate that he'd arrived at Piper's with 'a wheen of bottles of poteen'; and that Piper used to shoot the revolver at the pig-house door in the farm yard. Doherty also then squealed that Piper had a double barrelled shotgun as well, but had a licence for it. Full of wit and banter throughout the detailed report, Doherty then went on the claim that all of the bottles were only for lemonade and that they couldn't make him confess to any charge.

Piper got three months hard labour. The article went on to say that a neighbour of Samuel Doherty's, possibly a cousin, William Murphy of Ballycran, was also charged with 'having in his possession spirits for which duty had not been paid', which amounted to 3 bottles found in his house, 4 bottles hidden in a haystack, and 1 hidden in the hedge. Murphy's wife confessed that they'd had 2 more bottles which they used at their daughter's wedding. The bottles matched the ones Doherty had supplied to Piper.


I'm sure my grandfather would have known, or at least known of, these men!

Duck Dynasty - the Ulster-Scots connection continues

Pictured here is Duck Dynasty's Willie Robertson... just before Christmas I had the privilege of taking part in the unveiling event for the Ulster History Circle's Blue Plaque to Ulster-Scots poet, novelist, story collector and newspaper man Wesley Greenhill Lyttle, in Bangor, County Down, at the original site of his newspaper offices. Following this I have been re-reading his 1886 novel Sons of the Sod (set in Carrowdore, where my mother's family are all from) and also his 1880 collection of humourous short stories, Robin's Readings. On page 27 of Robins Readings, Lyttle introduces a new character called... 'Wully Rabertson'. With all of the duck and pheasant hunters I know, as well as anglers (both freshwater and sea), I think the Ards Peninsula could be the venue for a special overseas edition of Duck Dynasty right here in Northern Ireland, overlooking the west coast of Scotland - a transatlantic Scotch-Irish kinsfolk extravaganza.

"The South's Scots-Irish Strike Again" - Duck Dynasty in the Washington Times

Richard G Williams Jr. of the Old Virginia Blog published the above-titled article a few days ago, based on one which appeared in the Washington Times on Boxing Day (see here). We love Duck Dynasty in our family, as do my brother's family, and many of our friends and neighbours as well. I put a short clip on the blog here back in March 2013. Since then the Robertson family of West Monroe, Louisiana, have more or less filled our Sky+ box (for U.S. readers, that's TiVo) and episodes are watched many times over.

I have not heard or read the Robertsons claim to be of Scots-Irish/Scotch-Irish descent, but a number of commentators say they are. Phil Robertson's autobiography says that his grandfather was Judge Euan Robertson of Vivian, Louisiana.

In an episode we watched recently, Jase Robertson confronted his posh neighbours (who objected to him burning the piles of dry leaves he'd raked up in his garden) by quoting the US Constitution and said that if his inalienable rights were to be suppressed he would have to move to "Scotland or China" - maybe the comment was about distance rather than places where pyrotechnic freedom would be assured.

There are lots of things to love about Duck Dynasty. Maybe some folk watch to feel superior and to laugh at the (multi-millionaire) redneck country folk with their rural ways which blend camouflage print and Jesus. But I think to really get the genius of Duck Dynasty, you have to be from the country yourself. My parents' generation was one without running water in the house, when the pig killer came round to slaughter one of your own animals in your own yard, when people ate what they could grow or barter, when family stuck together and worked together and fought together.

In our own context, Ulster-Scots heritage makes far more sense to country folk than it does to city dwellers. There are of course very important echoes in the city - and Ulster-Scots industry, entrepreneurial flair and philanthropy largely built Belfast and Londonderry anyway, never mind the market towns and villages across Ulster, and further south to the likes of Dundalk - but Ulster-Scots heritage is still best found among what W.G. Lyttle described in his intro to Humorous Readings by Robin (1880) as '... plain country workin men ...'.  And anyway, his alter-ego - Rabin Gordon of fictional Ballycuddy, shown below - looks like a Robertson himself.



Here are the Robertsons, intimately filmed as part of the 'I Am Second' project

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Seth Lakeman - Portrait of My Wife

Ballyhalbert and Portavogie, April 1797

On the run-in to what became the 1798 Rebellion, this account was published in The Northern Star in the 3-7 April 1797 edition:

'... in searching for arms in the Ards, on Friday, March 10, the soldiers sliced down a whole cheese and carried it off together with several articles both of provisions and apperall, at Mr Brown's (Portavogie). In the townland of Ballyhalbert, they tossed about three stacks of grain, belonging to Wm M'Whorter, and committed several other outrages. Almost every night since, an Ensign G- and Mr. P. G., seemingly intoxicated, accompanied by a few armed ruffians (not the military) paraded the town and country, to the terror of peaceable well-disposed people.

Widows, orphans, poor lonely women, and all others in unprotected circumstances, are the chief objects of their military vigilance and prowess. When their private orgies prevent their personal exertions, their emissaries rally forth in arms; scour the country at all hours of the night, force poor people from their beds, demand spirits or whatever else they choose, which, having devoured, they make off. If complaint is uttered they present cards or notes which they say contain orders from the aforesaid gentlemen for their proceedings.

On such occasions Master John H-, son to a gauger, is Captain Commandant, and Master John B-, son to the church clerk, Adjutant. It is expected that a sense of the meritorious exploits of the latter will recommend his father and family to the notice of the parish of Portaferry at next vestry. The Commissioners of Revenue will certainly promote the former. Any of the others whether higher or lower may be presented with more prominent features to the public, if their further merits call for notice. Let them be thankful at present ...'

An 1850s Massachussetts clock, via the Isle of Man, to the Ards

Above: Peel Harbour, 1893 // An old clock which was owned by my grandparents, and previous generations, has surfaced. The sellers label is from Joseph Clucas, Clock & Watch Maker, Peel (in the Isle of Man). Some Googling shows that his shop existed from 1850-1860, in Crown Street just off the main seafront beside Peel Castle and St Patrick's Isle. Peel is on the west coast of the Isle of Man, with many connections to east County Down over the centuries. Nearby Clucas' shop was a building called Thompson's House (see here).

According to a huge label inside, it was made by Jerome & Co, New Haven. Massachussetts. Again some Googling shows that the company went bankrupt in 1856, from a peak production level of 440,000 clocks per year. Their clocks are easily available on etc.

So, the story probably is that, in the early 1850s, some fisherman from the Ards was over in Peel and came home with a posh imported American gift for the wife. Pics to follow.

When the Orange Lodge protected the local Priest (part 2)

Here is the full story as told in Betsy Gray and the Hearts of Down (first published in 1896):

'... THE TOWN of Lisburn not only supplied the noble and generous hearted General who commanded the troops of the United Irishmen, but it also played an important part in the short but sanguinary struggle. During the winter of 1797, a shuttle-maker who lived in an entry off High Street, Belfast, worked eighteen hours of the twenty-four in making pike-heads and handles. He and very many similar experts were, however, outdone by a Lisburn white smith, who, during the winter of 1797 and spring of 1798, forged upwards of 500 pikes without leaving undone any of his ordinary work.

Many years before the rebellion of 1798 the Presbyterians of Lisburn had proposed to build a new house of worship. Lord Hertford gave them a handsome site, and subscriptions were collected towards defraying the cost of erection. Amongst the contributors were the Rev. Father Magee - the parish priest - and several members of his congregation. Father Magee gave £10, and the donation was very much prized by the Presbyterians. He was exceedingly popular, and, when any works of benevolence were to be performed, he was always beside the Rev. Dr. Cupples, Protestant rector of the parish, and the Rev. Andrew Craig, Presbyterian minister.*

There was wonderful excitement in Lisburn and its neighbourhood on the night of the 12th of June, 1798. A report had been circulated that. Harry Monro and a large body of his men would that night descend upon the town and destroy it by fire. Soldiers, horse and foot, paraded the streets in large numbers; the inhabitants were ordered to close their doors and put out their lights after eight o'clock, and every measure was taken to prevent a military surprise.

In a house in Market Square sat an Orange Lodge. At a late hour one of the members of this Lodge looked out of the door and saw the parish priest making his way homewards. The Orangeman was a member of the Rev. Craig's Church, and he had a kindly feeling towards Father Magee, because he remembered his kindness. Stepping up to the clergyman, he said -

"You are out very late, sir, in such troublous times."

"I am, indeed, my friend," replied the old gentleman. "I have been out on a sick call."

"It is a mile to your house, and you can hardly get there in safety," said the Orangeman; "our lodge is now sitting, come in for a moment and we'll see about guarding you home."

The priest entered the lodgeroom, where he was hospitably received, and, having remained there for some time, he was escorted home by four of the members...'


*Rev Andrew Craig is another man with a fascinating story. That's a story for another day.

...................................................................................


Here is a fuller account by Hugh McCall, again from this website:


'... Priest Magee.
Reference has been made to the kindly spirit that had prevailed in early times between the people of this town and the clergy of all sects. The Rev. John Magee, who had been curate of the chapel from 1762, and parish priest from 1770, was very popular. When the Presbyterian meeting-house in Market Square was in course of erection, he handed ten pounds to the building fund committee as his own and that of a few of his people's contribution towards the good work. Like the Rev. Edward Kelly, P.P., who has held that position in Lisburn more than one quarter of a century, and while zealously attending the duties connected with the creed of his fathers, never interfered with the private opinions of those of other denominations. Priest Magee delighted in cultivating social harmony with all around him, and by his own followers he was held in special veneration. He took much interest in the Volunteer movement, and, when leisure permitted, was among the spectators who usually assembled in large numbers to witness the parades of the local troops, as the men met for military exercise on Gough's Hill, now a portion of the Wallace Park. And at the tables of Poyntz Stewart, Commander of the True Blues; Thomas Ward, Captain of the artillery; as well as those of other Volunteer officers, Priest Magee was ever a welcome guest. With the popular rector of Lisburn and the Presbyterian minister, he lived on terms of the utmost friendliness. Among the many unwritten histories of the Irish Insurrection, the following incident, as taken by the narrator from the lips of one of the Orangemen who took part in it, will be read with some interest.

The Priest and the Orangemen.
An Orange Lodge was sitting in the front room of a house in Cross Row. Two members of the lodge who had come downstairs to look on the stirring scenes on the street were at the door, and while standing there they recognised the parish priest passing along on the opposite side. Both these Orangemen were well-known to Mr. Magee, and immediately on seeing that gentleman they rushed across the roadway, and, after apologising for stopping him, they added that such was the state of the town, and the excitement of party spirit, it would be very dangerous for him to attempt making his way home, "Gentleman," said the venerable clergyman, "I have been out attending a sick call; one of my people, who lives at Plantation, became suddenly ill, and I have got so far on my return. It is exceedingly kind of you to give me the information about the unsettled state of affairs, but I hope to get on my way without molestation."

"We cannot permit you to go alone," replied the younger of the two; "our lodge is sitting in Jemmy Corkin's, the business of the evening has been settled, and if you come over with us we will arrange for your safe convoy home." It was then nearly seven o'clock: all was excitement in the Square, dragoons were dashing furiously round the Market House, and heavy artillery guns had been placed across the head of Bridge Street. After a few moments' hesitation, the priest said he would place himself in the hands of his friends, and on entering the lodge-room the Rev. gentleman was courteously received by the master and members. Having partaken of some refreshments, half-a-dozen stalwart men, well armed, rose and proceeded to escort Mr. Magee to his cottage home, which was situated about a mile distant on the Moira Road. It was nearly midnight when the party arrived at the priest's dwelling. A suitable entertainment followed, during which the hospitable host once again gratefully acknowledged the special attention that had been paid him; and, to the latest period of long life, the old clergyman was wont to relate the romantic story of his having been escorted to his home at Lissue by six Orangemen the night before the Battle of Ballynahinch ...'


...................................................................................

Postscript: In O'Laverty's An Historical Account of the Diocese of Down and Connor, he says that Father Magee was from Corbally in Ballee parish near Downpatrick. During his time as a priest in Lisburn he lived on the Maze Road, and was responsible for building a Catholic church at Chapel Hill in Lisburn in 1786 which was then enlarged in 1841. The tower of the building is recorded as having a plaque which read 'This chapel was built by donations from the people of every religion in the county, to preserve in grateful remembrance such Christian concord this stone is erected'. This was assisted by Dean Stannus, on behalf of the Marquis of Hertford, who gave land and money to the project. In 1792 Magee officiated at a Mass in Lisburn chapel which was attended by 'The Volunteers accompanied by many Protestants'. The Northern Star of 16 May 1797 printed this story: '...Daniel Gillan, Owen McKenna, William McKenna, and Peter McKenna, privates in the Monaghan Militia, who had been tried by a Court Martial in Belfast, were conveyed to Blaris Camp on cars, accompanied by two priests (Rev. John Magee and Rev. Peter Cassidy, C.C.Belfast) and by a strong guard of horse and foot, and shot at two o'clock. They seemed very sensible of the awful change they were about to make ; and at the same time behaved with the greatest firmness, choosing rather to die than turn informers ...' More of this story can be read here - beginning on page 11 with an account of the Portaferry-born informer, Bell Martin.

Hugh McCall of Lisburn (1805-1897); when the Orange Lodge protected the local Priest.

Hugh McCall is one of the many forgotten men of Ulster history. In his day he was a renowned writer, collector of folk stories, founder of a literary society, chronicler of the linen industry, occasional editor of The Banner of Ulster and expert on the 1798 Rebellion. He also took a prominent part in the Burns Centenary commemorations in Belfast in 1859. There is a memorial plaque inside Lisburn Cathedral to him, which reads:

Hugh McCall
1805 – 1897
One who was given to Philanthropy
Justice and Truth
A Journalist without fear
An Accurate historian
A Painstaking Chronicler
This Tablet
Is placed where he worshipped
To his remembrance by his friends
This above all to thine own self be true
And it must follow as the night the day
Thou canst not then be false to any man

I came across his work a few years ago. His grandfather left Argyll for Ulster, around 1714, and came to Donaghadee but then headed into the Lagan Valley area. Hugh was born at Chapel Hill in Lisburn. Joseph Carson of Kilpike regarded McCall as a 'brother poet', and wrote this verse to him:

To Mr. Hugh M'Call, a Brother Poet.

Lord, man, I think it dev'lish queer,
We've bardies been this many a year,
Baith bustling on in life's career,
Unknown to ither,
An' neither wrote ae line to cheer
His rhymin brither.

Had I but known, my cantie blade,
Ye plied sae weel the "rhymin trade,"
I would hae some bit sang convey'd
To thee lang syne,
Ere friendship's lamp was quite decay'd --
Dear light divine!

The dearest blessings o' mankind,
Are no' to rank an, wealth confin'd --
The cottage wight an' labouring hind,
Fu' aft enjoy them,
While lords to mak an riches join'd.
As aft destroy them.

When life's lang toilsome day is o'er,
The question, were ye rich or poor?
Will no be asked, on death's far shore,
To us poor mortals,
Ere mercy opes the narrow door, --
Heaven's shining portals.

Here is a great 1798 rebellion story which McCall collected, reproduced here from this website:

'... In these perilous times Mr. McGhee, the Parish Priest, was going out one night to visit a parishioner in Blaris. An Orangeman, who knew the popular priest told him of his great danger owing to the mob on the road, invited him into the house where an Orange Lodge was sitting, where he remained in safety, and was afterwards accompanied by a guard of Orangemen ...'

In Betsy Gray and the Hearts of Down, WG Lyttle recounts that Father Magee and some of his congregation had helped to fundraise for the building of Lisburn Presbyterian Church, giving £10, - '... and the donation was very much prized by the Presbyterians...'.

The loss of stories like these impoverishes the Northern Ireland of today. Men like McCall deserve to be more widely known.

Sounds for a Saturday morning - Willie Watson, Pokey LaFarge and The Cactus Blossoms

Two Holestones - Ulster and Scotland

As far as I am aware, there is only one 'holestone' left in Ireland. It is near Kilbride Presbyterian Church, on the slopes of the Sixmilewater Valley of southern County Antrim (click here).



There is I understand just one more in the British Isles, called the Crouse Marriage Stone or Crow Stone, near Wigtown in Galloway, Scotland (click here).

If anyone can tell me of others, I would appreciate it.

Mandolin tuning - "It's never perfect, but we do the best we can"

When in tune, the sound is wonderful. When even slightly out of tune, it is woeful. As the man below says, "if you've been playing mandolin for 30 years, you spend 15 of those years mandolin tuning and the other 15 years playing out of tune".

Official Tourist Guide to County Down and the Mourne Mountains, 1924

Image above - ©NITB


I picked up a great 89-year-old book for a few pounds recently. It begins with this -

"The delightful air and scenery of the County of Down, and the retention within its boundaries of so many remains from Pre-Christian, Early Christian, and Norman times, and by its people of so many characteristics of speech and manners from Plantation days, make this territory, for the tourist, one of the most interesting in Northern Ireland..."

and goes on:

"... One thing which will be apparent to even an unobservant tourist is the Scottish character of the people over large area; indeed until recent times, when school attendance was enforced, the language of the people in large parts of the north and east was purely lowland Scotch. The reason for this is that among the early acts of James I were the grants of large areas of land to his Scottish favourites, James Hamilton and Hugh Montgomery. Both these adventurous spirits were first knighted, and later both attained the rank of Viscount. Hamilton made his headquarters at Bangor, then a little village on the southern shore of Belfast Lough. Montgomery settled a few miles further south at Newtownards. Both men were followed by a number of their relations from Scotland, and both brought over large numbers of settlers; and all the Ards area, or say the upper half of the county to the eastward, may be said now to be peopled by the descendants of those settlers, who, as stated above, spoke, until very recently, the Scottish tongue of their forefathers ..."

It is always remarkable how mainstream and understood our connections with Scotland were to previous generations. Today you'd be hard pressed to find a history teacher in a secondary or grammar school in the area who could give such a succinct and accurate account. And we wonder why Irish history is sometimes a 'battlefield' - it must be because so few really know it today. It is selectively deployed for devious reasons.

"... GOLFING - County Down is one of the most important centres of the ancient and royal game of golf outside Scotland..."

The descriptions of the towns and villages are packed with references to Hamilton and Montgomery, and an account of the Con O'Neill escape from Carrickfergus is included too - sitting comfortably within information about local landmarks, hotels, and recreation facilities, painting an overall picture of the places. It mentions the Bible texts which Montgomery had carved into the entrance of Newtownards Priory (the originals are long eroded, and the 1988 reproduction did not include the original texts, probably an editorial decision by some anonymous bureaucrat). The insert map as well as the text refer to St Patrick's Well at Templepatrick, south of Donaghadee, where "we get pretty views of the coast and of the Copeland Islands with the Scotch hills beyond".

Bear in mind that this isn't a 400 year old document - this was published just about a decade before my parents were born - and yet popular awareness of the knowledge it contains has been almost completely lost over the past two generations!

As high-level political discussions continue here in Northern Ireland which seek an agreement on 'the past' - the question arises, "What version of the past?". The one which is reduced to nothing but a "them against us" two-tribes political stereotype - or the fuller, more accurate, cultural past from which this generation and the next generation can learn so much?