Kieran’s Our City, Our Town Column,

Cork Independent, 14 January 2010

In the Footsteps of St. Finbarre (Part 196)

Words of Stone

St John the Baptist in Ovens is not the first church that I have wandered up during the off peak mid afternoon silence in such buildings. I tend to search for clues, memories, looking for plaques and searching for stained glass windows of St Finbarre and his memory in the River Lee valley’s churches. I seem to continue to train my eye in looking for the smaller details of the human experience in the Irish landscape.

 According to Samuel Lewis’s Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (1840s), St John the Baptist Church, Ovens was built in 1835. He described it as ‘handsome’ edifice of hewn limestone in the mixed Gothic and Grecian styles of architecture with well lit tall round headed windows. Its plan is typical of other church structures of its day. Indeed, in the wider context, in 1829 the Catholic Emancipation Act gave much more freedom to Catholics and that strengthened the composition of the church. Hence, new churches such as Ovens were built in Ireland to cope with the expanding congregations. However, these new churches soon became symbols or markers of religious and political change within their respective area and era of origin.

Local history work by Fr. James Tobin in the 1970s, a curate of Ovens, wrote that the church of St John the Baptist became the parish church of the Union of Ovens. In addition, records reveal that in the sacristy of the church at one time was a library of ancient tomes or stones but that history is now lost. There was a school also on the site. It was replaced in 1939 by a new building across the road.

Examining the structure reveals more insights into the ideas that brought it into being. In the architecture itself, the human story of harnessing the Irish landscape is told. I think it was the imposing limestone of St John the Baptist Church that first struck my attention. The district of Ovens, as noted in previous articles, was once known for its caves and mysterious caverns beneath the ground. From this landscape the rock was broken up, taken up and re-imagined as a type of sacred place by the local priest and architect. The excavated stone was carved as blocks for the new church by stone masons but interestingly its foundations still cling to the bedrock from which it comes from. The exterior and interior beauty and aesthetics of church depended on contemporary technology, politics and money. The architect is also entrusted to map a religious journey for the pilgrim. The finished product reveals the talent and ambition of the architect and the community involved in constructing it. Both translated imagined ideas into something physical and something poetic through iconography.

I sat in one of the pews in St. John the Baptist, the light streaming through a stained glass window of the ‘Lamb of God’. At the base is inscribed the name Daniel Walter Murphy, born Muloughroe RIP, 1823 and his Mary A. Bowen, his wife, born Passage, Cork 1823, RIP. A second stained glass window of Mary, Mother of Christ, is inscribed William Bowen Murphy, born Mullaghroe, died Boston. USA, RIP, The inscriptions do not say anymore but do invite the viewer to remember the patron.  Through my actions, I perform what the memorial wants me to do. Memorials such as these tend to indirectly highlight the remembered in a high social standing stressing their personal qualities, goodness and piety.

I remember several years ago cutting out an image in the local newspaper of the crucifixion scene in the stained glass windows of Our Lady of Lourdes, Church in Ballinlough, Cork City and remarking on its power to set the imagination running and in recent years marvelling at the dove scene, the Holy Spirit in the choir area of the North Cathedral. Both are pure artistic genius. Standing in St John the Baptist, looking at the stained glass windows, I note in my notebook that even the past was a colourful and imaginative place, where remembering someone or an event was something to cherish. Every place also tends to have a memory, which emanates through some memorial revealing the human experience with its range of emotions – sadness, love that someone wished to record. Every place seems to have a story to tell of survival, struggle and transformation.

Many Irish churches tend to be visited for their sanctity more so for their art and architecture. However, all have an enormous array of expressive meanings waiting to be unlocked. These meanings depend on the viewer’s background, interest and expertise. St. John’s the Baptist has a sense of form, space, light and shade, solidity and weight. The interior, which was revamped in recent times, is built to welcome. It is a monument in its day and seems to give order to that world on reflection and to the present. However, I have to say for me, churches like St. John the Baptist are treasure troves of ideas about the importance of human ideas and how they transform and mark the chaotic world around us.

To be continued…

Captions:

522a. Stained glass window at St John the Baptist Church, Ovens (pictures: Kieran McCarthy)

522b. Exterior of St John the Baptist Church, Ovens

 I stumbled across the following image of the ship Innisfallen passing Blackrock Castle in the1950s in a postcard sale in the Imperial Hotel last Saturday – a great image.

 Interestingly, there seems to many sides to this postcard addressing both the past and present- a reminder of a time of much emigration coupled with the eminent return of the Cork-Swansea Ferry in today’s world. Couple those thoughts with Blackrock Castle and it now an astronomy centre today. So all very interestingly perspectives to think about how things change and how things come back to haunt us.

The 1950s (from the City Library files):

 In the 1950s, the standard of living was poor by European standards and emigration was one of the great scourges of Irish life. Many older Cork people will remember the boatloads of emigrants boarding The Innisfallen at Penrose Quay. So many Corkmen emigrated to work in the Fords factory in Dagenham that it became known as ‘Little Cork’. Many of the Dagenham emigrants returned home every year for their holidays. With their more fashionable clothes and the slight traces of English accents they became known, affectionately, as ‘The Dagenham Yanks’. The most important employers in Cork during this period included Fords, Dunlops, Sunbeam Wolsey, Irish Steel and Verolme Cork Dockyards. Many smaller enterprises engaged in the textile, agricultural processing, chemical and printing industries.

The Innisfallen:

The first Innisfallen (1,400 gross tons) was built in 1896 and served with the City of Cork Steam Packet Company until she became a war causality in 1918. She was built at Newcastle and measured 272 feet long. She served on the Cork Fishguard route.

    After WW1 the company was acquired by the Coast Lines group.  In 1930  a new Innisfallen was launched. She was built in Belfast and was a half sister to the Ulster Monarch. She had diesel engines and had a gross tonnage of 3,019tonnes. At the time she was the only motor passenger vessel running to South Wales and proved very popular with the Cork-Fishguard passengers and in 1938 was the ship that took the last British soldiers based at Spike Island home. By the outbreak of WW2 the Innisfallen was flying the tri-colour and hence was  neutral. Coast Lines had transferred the Cork operations to B&I Line in 1936 but Coast lines (who were anything but neutral) switched the ship to Dublin Liverpool and on December 21st 1940, tragedy again struck. While outbound from Liverpool she struck a magnetic mine off Wirral shore near New Brighton and went down with the loss of 4 lives. Fortunately no passengers were killed and all 157 and the rest of the crew were rescued.

    For many years B&I and its predecessor had used the advertising slogan “Travel the Innisfallen Way” and from 1948 it was again possible when B&I introduced the third Innisfallen. The ship brought a new style and class to the Lee with her dark green hull, cream upper works and green, white, and black funnel along with her new lively made a mockery of the prophecies that D’Innis was too big for the route. She was 3,705 gross tons and 340 feet over all. She had Denny Brown stabilisers also, a great advance on her predecessors. As before, the service from Cork was on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays with returns from Fishguard on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. The ship layed over during the day at Penrose Quay, Cork and Fishguard putting to sea at night. She carried livestock and general cargo in addition to her passengers. In 1953 Coast Lines again decide to change ownership, and D’Innis  transferred to City of Cork Steam Packed Co. She was repainted with a black hull, white superstructure and funnel with black top and she kept the service going until 1967.

    In February 1965 Coast Lines concluded an agreement with the Irish Government which provided for Coast Lines sale of it’s shares in B&I to the Government. Irish interests had been anxious to purchase B&I for many years and the war had proved that an independent nation that was also an island needed some control over shipping. The new ownership made little difference to the Cork-Fishguard service at first at first appart from a slight change in the funnel’s colours. But changes were a coming…

    In 1967, B&I announced that new car ferries were on their way to Cork, and their 3 post-war ships would be disposed of. A new Innisfallen was ordered in Germany and would be a sister to the new Leinster (that was being built at Cork), but more changes came when British Rail gave notice of termination of agreement that allowed Cork ships use Fishguard. Now, B&I proposed a new ferry service to Swansea from Cork. In 1967 the old Innisfallen was sold to Greek interests and, since Penrose Quay was in the city centre and unsuitable for a ferry terminal Cork Harbour Commissioners developed new facilities at Tivoli.

 adapted from http://www.irish-ferries-enthusiasts.com/

For more old postcards of Cork, http://corkheritage.ie/?page_id=1672

For our new Cork-Swansea Ferry!!!, http://www.fastnetline.com/

Kieran’s Our City, Our Town Column,

Cork Independent, 7 January 2010

In the Footsteps of St. Finbarre (Part 195)

Fragments of Memory

There is a tendency at this stage in the Lee Valley to follow the national routeway from Ovens to Bishopstown and into Cork City – to glide into the city via its twentieth century suburbs but there is still so much to comment on. From Farran to Ballincollig, the ridges of the Lee valley provides fantastic views of the surrounding countryside and on my tattered and used ordnance survey map, there are many items, monuments and stories of note to tell of.

A referral in Ovens Bar leads me to me to Donal O’Flynn, a local historian in the area. A collector of all fragments of memories in this area, he has a strong passion for Ovens and how it came into being. In his collection each townland in Ovens is represented by a folder. Within these are kept documents, pictures, newspaper articles, photographs and ultimately parts of the jigsaw puzzle of how identity was formed in this area. The true life stories within the folders are bound up with many people, families and events that span time. Some of Donal’s folders are full to the brim with notes whilst others are less full with more empty. It is not that some townlands did not have a past; it’s just no one chose to write about the people living in the area over time. In these folders, it’s like the past is awaiting recovery.

However, Donal with or without folders has an immense personal knowledge growing up in nearby Ballygroman. He talks at will about local archaeology, the Cork-Macroom Railway line, local castles, Kilcrea Abbey, famous families and houses. He has a great passion for the War of Independence and the civil war that followed. The body of Michael Collins came through the Ovens area along the local fields. The party was helped by local man Tadgh Halloran.

However, Donal’s work seems to be more than just recovering the facts and figures of the various townlands. It is about recovering the geography, repairing, interpreting, re-interpreting, guarding and re-engaging historical information. Donal is also an avid photographer and he also uses photographs to record and even tell the story. One of the most impressive and photographed monuments in his collection is St Mary’s Church of Ireland in Barnagore townland. This can be viewed at the end of the Ballincollig Bypass, Macroom bound on the left hand side. This was built on the site of a medieval church and by the year 1615, records note that it was in ruins. The Protestant community attained control of the monument and by 1639, it was up and running as a church again. However, by 1699, it was in ruins again. The present structure which served the Athnowen-Kilnaglory Protestant union has been on the ancient site since 1745. The impressive steeple was completed in 1756. The ornate church is now an empty shell but the graveyard is still in use.

A second important church was in Disert Mór, the ‘great hermitage’, in Ballygroman upper. The name of the hermit has not been preserved in tradition. It is said that St Finbarr visited Desertmore in search of relics. There he met according to tradition Fiama, possibly the hermit. St Finbarr and the hermit reputedly became fast friends and walked regularly on Knockaneamealgulla, which overlooks the site from the west i.e. the original site.

Desertmore was mentioned in the list of churches in 1199 and in 1302 was listed as a parish. Before 1437, it was attended to by senior parish priests in the Cork Diocese. After the Reformation, it became a Protestant Church and eventually by 1616 was in ruins. A new church was built on the site in 1815 but this also no longer remains. The original hermitage was reputedly built on a marsh, which still surrounds the mound shaped plateau of Desertmore. It is said that the graveyard at one time covered this plateau, which had been formed in the course of centuries by the piling of grave upon grave. The present graveyard is enclosed within narrow limits. On the ground near the entrance gate of the graveyard is a stone, which is believed to be a ‘cross’ stone. An incision in the stone shows that it supported a timber cross.

Roman Catholic heritage also has a rich narrative in this area in post reformation times. Clinging to Catholic values and according to local lore, Franciscan friars from Kilcrea Abbey celebrated mass at a nearby stream (Clash in Irish). From this event the townland was named Clashanafrinn. The exact site is unknown. The only certain site of a Catholic chapel in the Desertmore-Athenown district is the present day site at Knockanemore, where there were two churches in succession. The first was built soon after 1731 and lasted for a century. It is said to have been a thatched church. In 1731, there was an officiating priest by the name of Teige Mahony but no mass house for either parish was recorded at that time. On the site of the thatched church in Knockanemore a new church was built by Fr Peter McSwiney in 1831 and dedicated to St John the Baptist.

To be continued…

Captions:

521a. Donal O’Flynn, Ovens, with one of his heritage sculptures, December 2009

521b. Church of St John the Baptist, Ovens, December 2009 (pictures: Kieran McCarthy)

 www.corkheritage.ie

I had the pleasure in the last two years of researching the history of the Sunday’s Well Boating and Tennis Club. This book was published last week. Sifting through over 100 years of documents, minute books, photographs and other material, as well as a substantial collection of artefacts, is a time-consuming business requiring almost infinite patience and judgment.

The history of any club is essentially the story of a community coming together to enjoy a favoured pastime, and Sunday’s Well Boating and Tennis Club on the Mardyke in Cork is no different. Inscribed beneath the club’s ornate weather vane, the dates 1899-1999 are an instant reminder of the deep history that surround the club and its place in the social and cultural history on Leeside. The club has faced a myriad of challenges over the years. The knock-on effects of a failing economy in the 1950s, the unlikely role squash played in dragging the club out of financial trouble and the contentious issues of female membership are perhaps the most memorable, but they are by no means exclusive.

Beautifully situated just west of Cork city centre on the banks of the Lee, the club emerged as a by-product of annual boating regattas at the Mardyke. Boating, with a high society classification in the 19th century, was a popular pastime on the river adjacent to Sunday’s Well. Due to limited revenue, boating events such as mini regattas were not organised every year, but the races are remembered for the Chinese lanterns and bunting that illuminated the gardens at the riverbank, as well as the balloon and firework displays at sundown. In 1899, inspired by a successful Sunday’s Well Regatta and Water Carnival held that July, the Sunday’s Well Boating and Tennis Club was founded. It was formed by a number of organisers of the regatta, several of whom were residents in Sunday’s Well.

Very little is known about the construction of the first clubhouse or the first building used. The first edition of its rules and bylaws illustrate that learned legal gentlemen were involved in its formative years. Their vision of high standards in all aspects of the club has been retained through the years, and Sunday’s Well continues to strive towards excellence.

Tennis continues to be the mainstay of the club, but boating, billiards, squash, cricket, bowls, card-playing and fishing, among others, have all had halcyon years throughout the club’s history. Within the premises, each successful sporting season is immortalised in the club’s minute books, perpetual tournament trophies and on the numerous photos that adorn the clubhouse walls. The minute books also give an insight into the significant voluntary input that continues to be a hallmark of the club, detailing the work of the committees that have been key strands in the club’s development. In addition, the reading room’s Rolls of Honour remembers the contribution of the various chairmen and sporting captains. As with any social history, there are countless characters that do not feature on a roll of honour. The early decades of the 20th century saw the club put down roots and consolidate its aims. In this vein, its rules were brought into conformity with the Registration of Clubs (Ireland) Act in 1904.

The upkeep of the grounds was important to the club’s image, and monies from members were pumped into improving the infrastructure of the club, be it purchasing billiard balls, providing electricity or trying to solve the ever-present problem of a collapsing river bank. But while improvements were being made around the clock, time was also ticking for an ageing all-male membership.

During this time, running the club proved a constant struggle; its financial situation gradually worsened while a bank overdraft steadily increased. The Munster and Leinster Bank pressed for a reduction in the overdraft, a request the club couldn’t accommodate while many members were failing to pay their subscriptions on time. Conscious of the unstable state of the Irish economy and its effects at local level, various committees endeavoured to keep subscription fees low. However, these still trebled between 1949 and 1967, and membership predictably nose-dived as a result. The club lost almost a third of its membership in 1963 alone, dropping from 200 to 144.

The club’s very existence was in jeopardy during this uncertain period. But the sanctioning of limited junior and female memberships in the 1960s – the latter proving an extremely thorny issue until it was finally resolved with the advent of full female membership in 1994 – helped stem the financial tide, while new blood galvanised the club socially. However, it was the introduction of squash in the 1970s that set the club back on the path to

success.

Recent years have seen the club take giant strides in improving and modernising its facilities, with a number of keynote developments during the 1990s and 2000s. While the old-age charm of the clubhouse and billiard room remain, they are now complemented by a gym, a conservatory overlooking the river, a refurbished kitchen, a new administration office and committee room, an extended car park and a new roadway entrance.

Lord Mayor of Cork, Cllr Dara Murphy with the book’s creative team, Alan Kelly, Alymer Barrett, Chairman of the Club Michael Buckley, Matt Murphy, Cllr Kieran McCarthy & Leila Cotter