Kingsland National School (N.S.)
Kingsland National School (N.S.)
Kingsland, Co Roscommon, its people past and present
Kingsland National School 1924
Front: B. T. Beirne, B. King, Margaret Mulrooney, Kathleen Harrington, Aggie Brady, Maisie Harrington, B. Naughton, Delia Beirne, Mae Harrington, Nora Keaveney.
2nd: Kate Jordan, Elizabeth Brady, Kathleen J. Keaveney, Ellen M. Keaveney, Lily O’Connor, Mary Kate Healy, Mamie Beirne, Maureen Hanberry.
3rd: Attracta Beirne, Bab Harrington, Bridgid Healy, Kathleen Mulrooney, Nellie Kennedy, Nora Kate Beirne, Winnine Kate Brennan, Bridie Mcloughlin.
Back: Lily Connaughton, Rita Hely, Molly Harrington, Patricia Hanberry, Winnie J. Connaughton, Kathleen Kivlehan, Winnie Roddy, Ciss Henehan, Brigid Callaghan, Winnie Hanberry.
There were some people in the photograph that we could not identify
The Reunion Committee
Back Row. L. to R.: John C. Harrington, Ann Harrington, Charles Warde, Marian Callaghan, Eamon Cummins.
Front Row. L. to R.: Mary Grady, Mary Harrington, Deirdre Harrington, Freda Forde
Inserts: Sheila McDemott and Terence Harrington. Photo: S. Ryan.
In publishing this journal, we do not set out to give the full and definitive history of Kingsland. This indeed would be impossible, since history is a continuum where the past shapes and merges into the present, and the present moulds and influences the future. No, we simply wish to refresh the minds of our older past pupils and take them down the road of nostalgia so they may reflect with pleasure on the many innocent childish incidents of their school days. For the younger generation and for those to come, we hope this magazine will prove to be a source of encouragement and of some enlightenment. By recalling the history of Kingsland and by recounting the achievements of some of its past pupils we hope to instil in the young a greater sense of pride in their little “Country School”. If we achieve these objectives, then our efforts will have been well worthwhile
We are especially proud of the hundreds of boys and girls, who either through choice or out of necessity, went to live their lives in foreign lands. We wish all our past pupils a very happy and enjoyable Kingsland Reunion. We remember the many hundreds who have passed on and commend their worthy souls to the loving care of the Eternal Father. We would like to thank the advertisers, the people who kindly done research for us to make this book possible. To all those who contributed photos. To the Roscommon Herald Staff for all their help and encouragement. Last but not least to everybody who helped in any way.
Thank you.
Kingsland National School (Kingsland N.S.) Reunion Committee.
Frank Harrington
Kingsland School by Frank Harrington
Kingsland school can mean so many different things to so many different people depending on the generation they’re sprung from, but also on many other things as well. For me as a four-year-old, coaxed and cajoled with many promises of the good life in store for me when I started school, it might have been fairyland, so well had my mentors done their work. When the great day finally came for me to take my first steps along the educational road and I crossed the threshold of the huge grey building on top of Kingsland hill, as so many had done before, it surely was something else. My childhood mind was in turmoil.
The school and the whole idea of it filled me with dread, and fears and fantasies surfaced as never before in my young life, but I had no choice. I was compelled to grapple with them and put them to flight. It was my first real test - the fledgling was out of the nest. Could it fly? Of course, it flew and so did we all into the widening consciousness of our growing years and the deepening appreciation of what school was all about. And with the passage of time, and, for me, the hindsight of half a century and more, Kingsland school, our childhood academy, is seen in a much broader perspective. To the adult mind, it is simplistic to see it as just a building that gave rise to butterflies in our tummies, in any case, it has occupied three different buildings since its establishment close to a hundred and fifty years ago. Each of these developed its own personality as it were, in keeping with time, its teachers and its pupils. So, what is it then, essentially and fundamentally, and where is the common ground for the estimated 4,000 people, covering six generations who have passed through its doors in the momentous century and half of Irish life.
Common Ground
And, of course, common ground is there in abundance. For all of us between the ages of 4 and 13 (give or take), Kingsland school was to be about twenty five percent of our lives. Together with family and community, it would, in these crucial formative years, constitute the three most powerful and dominant influences which would mould and shape the adult people we would become. And for every boy and girl that has emerged or will emerge in the future, from that school, whatever its location, exactly the same thing can be said.
As four-year-olds, we’d naturally already be familiar and feel at home with the family, even the extended one. Aunts, uncles, cousins etc., would have crossed our path and we’d have adjusted to them. So, we were ready for the next step to widen the experience and add another increment of growth. That step had to be school: The wider community was the challenge here but specifically, our peer group and contemporaries. We had to meet these, assess them, and let them grow into us. For the next several years, these youngsters, essentially so like ourselves, growing step by step with us, physically and emotionally, caught up in the same environmental mix of joys and sorrows, action and inaction, worktime, playtime, laughter and tears, fantasies and fears would be our real teachers. In turn, we would be theirs. We’d quarrel and fight with them, laugh with them and make fun of them, play games, form close friendships, envy them, love them, hate them even sometimes. Through it all, we’d learn what society was all about, what good neighbourliness meant and how, as individuals, we must dovetail with others. By the time we emerged at the other end at 14 years of age, a lot of corners would be nicely rounded with the shape and form of the future adult becoming quite clear in outline. Overall there was the dawning realisation of something greater than ourselves - than our world. There was much talk of Supreme Being. He was God the Creator, the Omnipotent One, the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega. This consciousness of the Divinity would deepen and strengthen and remain with the vast majority for the rest of our lives. Here, indeed, is common ground for all pupils of Kingsland N.S., past and present, regardless of where it might be located or housed. Here is the shared experience, set in the heart of rural Ireland and it binds us together as few other things can. It gives us, too, that sense of belonging and keeps us in touch with our complex and intertwined roots intricately laced and interlaced down the generations and the centuries of time.
Origins
So, it is only natural that, just as we treasure and dwell on any information in regard to our family and community heritage, we are likewise drawn, with some nostalgia, into the old school, and its background. One hesitates a little to put a date on its origins because in doing so, one ignores the fact that, in all likelihood, the first permanent, housed school was proceeded by one or more hedge schools in the parish. Therein lies the real roots of Kingsland school Unfortunately, any factual information in regard to them now, almost certainly, irretrievably lost but as we push back the frontiers of time in the remembrance of things past, let us pray in silent and prayerful tribute to those who have gone before and their years of struggle in their efforts to cross the threshold of literacy and master the three R's. In those days, that was as far as the educational vision went, or more correctly perhaps, needed to go. There was no technological revolution to cope with and life was relatively simple in all its dimensions. Nor was that vision to change much during the whole of the 1800's and certainly it hadn't changed when the hedge school was swept aside by a country wide, educational revolution brought about by the Westminster Education Act of 1832 and the establishment of the Board of Education. O'Connell's Catholic Emancipation Act in 1829 had finally put paid to the penal laws and re-opened, for the downtrodden masses of the population, the prospect of progressive improvement in lifestyles and expectations. And what masses of people there were at the time when the awesome population explosion of the period from c. 1700 to 1847 was at its peak. In that period the population of Ireland shot up from around 1.5 million to 8 million, virtually all on the strength of the humble "Spud", and its one variety "Lumper". That is just by the way, of course, but it gives some background to the scale of the problem facing an impoverished country at the time, in the educational field alone.
Board of Education
This education al revolution filtered through to the parish of Breedogue (or as it may have been then known, Kilnamanagh) during the 1840's. Callow school proceeded Kingsland by a few years for reasons unknown, but Kingsland followed in due course and opened in August 1848.
For the establishment of any school at the time, the initiative had to come from the people, led, invariably, by the priest of the parish. In Breedogue, at the time, was one Fr. Michael Dillon and on his shoulders fell the burden of organisation and establishment. There was no committee. Once established, the procedure was to apply for grants undervarious headings to the Board of Education and subsequently, after inspection, and assuming that everything was found to be in order, the school was registered by the Board and grants paid. One of the conditions was that school would have no connection with religious houses and the other principal one was that the patron would be responsible for fitting out the school and maintaining it in good condition. It would appear that the patron in this case was Stafford King Harman, and, reading between the few lines that appear in the archives, the most likely scenario appears to be that Fr. Dillon and the landlord put their heads together and came up with the building that remains to this day, and is now a slated barn at the bottom of Kingsland hill adjacent to the old Post Office, run by the Drury family during the first half of this century. It appears from the archives that one John Naughton, as tenant of Stafford King Harman, had authority to sublease the building, which he did, to the Board of Education, but only after it was fitted out as a school. The landlord, apparently, was generous in the matter of outfitting and funding was not required from parishioners.
The First Building
The 1848/49 report to the Board of Education states that it was built of stone, had a thatched roof and was in good condition. It consisted of one room measuring 36' x 12' x 8'. The furniture was all new, there were 6 benches and seats measuring 8' long and 20' of other seats. The highest of the benches were 2'9" and the lowest 2'6". Wire nails were provided from which to suspend the writing tablets. There were windows, described in the archives as "lights", three at the front, measuring 2'4" x 1'7" and two at the back measuring 1'6" x 1'5". The accommodation was considered adequate for 90 pupils. This then was the "locally established" school opened in 1848. After the official' inspect ion and favourable report to the Board of Education, it was duly registered by the Board on July 5th, 1849. This made it eligible to receive books for 100 pupils and grants towards teachers’ salaries together with other minor payments. John Naughton, the lessor of the building, was appointed teacher on the recommendation of Fr. Dillon and for the first two years until 1850, he was the only teacher for the reason that the average number of girls attending did not warrant the appointment of a work mistress, as the term was.
Staffing
John Naughton must have enjoyed considerable local standing at the time. A man of about 30 years of age, Fr. Dillon was able to vouch for his character and ability. He had no training as a teacher, of course, nor had anybody else at the time, so it must have been very much a trial and error situation. The fact is, nevertheless, that John Naughton served for 29 years until 1878 when he retired due to ill health. He started at a salary of £10 a year which had risen to £30 when he retired. His retiring gratuity amounted to roughly three years salary or £90. It is recorded that he had a family of five daughters and four sons and was attended by Dr. Gillespie, Frenchpark during his last illness. His teaching career was unblemished except for one minor reprimand. Books were supplied for 100 pupils. They are listed as Baxter's Arithmetic, Murray's English Grammar, Murray's Spelling Book and O'Reilly's Catechism. Irish books are not mentioned and this, perhaps, is not surprising given the attitude of the colonial government, at the time, to the language and also the fact that the people themselves had begun to realise that the way to whatever progress could be made in their material affairs was, almost exclusively, through the use of English. It can be said that, just about the time the school was established, the Irish language as the spoken tongue, was well and truly on the slippery slope. Religious instruction was given every Friday between 2.00 p.m. and 4.00 p.m.
Progress
From 1850 on, the school appears to have made rapid progress. On May 1st, 1850, a Bridget Sharkey was appointed work mistress at a salary of £6 per year. In September 1851 a Pat Murrin was appointed monitor at £8 per year. After three years’ service Miss Sharkey resigned and a Bridget Drury was appointed at £8 per year. In the same year, 1853, a clock was purchased for the princely sum of £1.12s.5d, the equivalent of two months’ salary for the headmaster. In 1854, Fr. Dillon became quite ill and was unable to continue in charge. He was replaced by the P.P., Fr. M. McDonagh. Pupils generally paid fees at the time and these were, per quarter, one shilling (5p), one and sixpence (7½p), two shillings (10p) or two and six (12.5p), depending, presumably on ability to pay. There was provision for 20 free places. In this context, Fr. Dillon's reply to a Board of Education questionnaire, when he was applying for registration of the school is interesting. One of the questions was how many well-to-do families there were in the parish at the time. His reply was "none - they are all poor, very poor, very ignorant but very willing to learn". His figure for the population of the parish at the time was 3,000. He must have been quite a man, quite a priest. His compassion comes through from the archives and perhaps, well it might, given the dire plight of the population in the devastating and traumatic famine period of 1845-49. It is perhaps a period best passed over, for now, except to pause and wonder how anybody in the aftermath of that holocaust could find the inspiration, the courage and the determination to light a candle, rather than curse the darkness. And yet there were such people and Fr. Dillon was one of them. He was a true shepherd of his flock and the 1848 school might be said to be the candle he lit. Ar dheis De go raigh a anam.
Set Back
From 1854 onwards until its closure in 1877, there is nothing further in the archives relating to the first school. In April of that year it was struck off the register by the Board of Education because of its condition and the extent of the deterioration had had set in. An additional blow, at the same time, was the ill health of John Naughton and his imminent retirement (1878). One can only deduce that the school closed because the new school, this time on the top of Kingsland Hill didn't open until 1883. Curiously enough, this gap in continuity ties in with the local tradition in the parish that there was, at one point, a school run by a Ms. Murray and it seems a fair bet that the Po in t School opened when the first Kingsland closed. The proof of this theory might be the listing of Ms. Murray's name as a member of the staff of Kingsland school, but there is no, record of that in the archives. So, there's no certainty but, nevertheless, if, in fact, such a transfer did occur, it must be seen as logical and enterprising on the part of Ms. Murray.
Second Building
The new two roomed school on the top of the hill opened on August 13th, 1883. It was built by local subscriptions and the two names associated with the plot of ground, as per the archives, are one Matt Flanagan and the landlord, Stafford King Harman. A Fr. Luke Carlos was now the curate. The plot comprised 1 rood, 25 square perches. The building erected thereon is described in some detail in the archives but there is nothing particularly noteworthy about it except that it was so much more spacious than the previous one much better catered for in regard to window space for daylight access.
New Staff
The first principal was John Forde, a young man of 25 who came from Cloontagid N.S., Co. Longford. He was joined by Bridget Higgins, 39 years, who came from Callow N.S., Ellen Flynn, 22 years, from Bella N.S., and Pat Cregg, 19 years, who had also served in Callow N.S., as monitor. Fees varied form sixpence (old) 3p, to two shillings and sixpence (12.5p), per quarter. On October 6th, 1883, the year of opening, there were 140 on the roll and a daily average attendance of 110.
John Forde apparently finished in 1909 for reasons unknown and was replaced by Patrick Kelly. From that time on almost, this second school is in living memory. It cannot, therefore, have the same aura of mystique surrounding it as the first. After Fr. Carlos, the next curator or, perhaps, second next was Fr. Roddy and again, in this area, we are virtually into living memory. Master Kelly retired in 1949 and this second school closed in December 1960 to be replaced by the present building, opened in January 1961, this time by Fr. J. Kerrigan. The site for the new school was donated by Mr. Joe Mahon, Kingsland. Big Changes Oddly enough, just as the first school in 1848 was part of an educational revolution, this third school more or less coincided with another immense change, namely the introduction of free secondary education in the sixties. That, too, was a giant step forward, so great that it must rank second only to the independence movement among the positive events that did most to change the face of Ireland during this century. Unfortunately, there is also the negative side, the single factor in Irish life that comes close to outweighing the other two. That can be the ongoing haemorrhage of emigration, the draining away of the life blood of a people who were once, and still are, no more or no less than the salt of the earth. The west of Ireland was in _ grave crisis a hundred and fifty years ago when Fr. Dillon lit his candle and so many others like him, lit theirs. When he did, the darkness began to lift. The crisis today is no less severe, as rural populations dwindle and begin to reach the point of no return. Perhaps the newly established Western Board with the Government and E.U. backing is the beacon of the future. As Shakespeare put it "It is a consummation devoutly to be wished".
As a final word in regard to the old school, it's interesting to speculate how the c.4,000 who passed through might have been affected by, or involved in, Irish and world events in their time.
Kingsland School 1961
| Census: Population 8,180,140 | - | 1841 |
| Famine conditions | - | 1845/48 |
| American Civil War | - | 1861/65 |
| The Fenian Movement | - | 1867 |
| Home Rule Movement | - | 1870 |
| Census: Population 5,412,377 | - | 1871 |
| Land League founded | - | 1879 |
| Ladies Land League launched | - | 1881 |
| Death of Parnell | - | 1891 |
| Census: Population 4,704,750 | ||
| Foundation of Gaelic League | - | 1893 |
| Boer War | - | 1899-1902 |
| Census: Population 4,381,951 (whole country) | 1911 | |
| I.T.G.W.U. Dublin Strike | - | 1913 |
| 1st World War | - | 1914-18 |
| Irish Revolution and the War of Independence | - | 1916-1922 |
| 'Flu' Epidemic - school closed for 7 weeks | - | 1918 |
| Major expansion in Irish | - | 1920-60 |
| Missionary work abroad | ||
| Economic War | - | 1932-37 |
| 2nd World War | - | 1939-45 |
| Fianna Fail out of government after 16 years | - | 1948 |
| Free State becomes Republic of Ireland | - | 1948 |
| Census: Population of Republic 2,818,341 | - | 1961 |
| Population of N. Ireland 1,425,642 | ||
| Total 4,243,983 | ||
| R.T.E. Television | - | |
| Ireland joins the E.E.C. | - | 1972 |
| Link |
Harringtons of Kingsland
John Harrington (Great grandfather)
It was well before the turn of the century that the Harrington name first appeared over the door of the old thatched pub in Kingsland. The pub was previously owned by Molly O’Brien, and I can recall many of the older generations refer to it as “Molly O’Brien’s”.
John Harrington (Great grandfather)
My great grandfather who was also John Harrington, purchased the premises from her in or around 1895 for the sum of £80. It was this man who set about establishing the business on a firm footing that has stood the test of time, making it one of the oldest established licensed premises remaining in family owner ship in the West of Ireland.
My great grandfather’s intention was that his son John Junior would take over the business. But the son had other ideas and wanted to see the world. He emigrated to the USA. My great grandfather then leased back the pub to the O’Briens around 1904. It is said there was no charge involved. On his return in 1912 he found that Molly had married Pat Harrington and they were not in favour of handing back the premises. Long and costly legal proceedings followed with the outcome decided at a circuit court in 1913 in favour of John Junior, my grandfather. The case is entered in the Irish Law Reports of 1913.
With this behind him John Junior received the licence in 1914. He brought with him some ideas from the States and developed the business as a one-stop shop. Apart from the usual groceries, it was possible to buy shirts, trousers, wellingtons, shoes, meals, flour and lamp oil. These items appear on his invoices which are still to be had in houses in the local community.
He married his wife Mae in 1923. My father John Francis was born the following year and another son Christy in 1929. Then, 1930 his wife Mae died.
John Harrington and wife Mae Harrington (née Connor) Grandparents
Royal Daylight Oil Invoice
Sometime after her death a tinker, collecting feathers, called and finding my grandfather a bit under the weather asked, “any feathers?” Not getting a reply, he asked again. This time he got a response, my grandfather grabbed the horse whip and declared, “by God, I’ll give you feathers” as he chased him out and down the road.
The children from the school would come up to the shop known as “Johnnies” for sweets and, believe it or not, cigarettes. These came in packs of five Woodbines. He would give them two on the first impossible to keep track of this. The story goes that some of the cute ones always managed to get three each time. If a child was caught smoking in a National School today there would be a rumpus.
John Junior died in 1937, then his sister aunt Winnie became guardian of John Francis and held the licence from 1937 - 1946. Aunt Winnie, with the help of John F. and her niece Bridie Harrington, had to take the business, which was in decline for the latter years of my grandfather’s life, and build it up again. She worked extremely hard. She got an exemption for an NACA. Sports event in Breedogue in 1944. She was caught for after-hours in 1942. However, the court took a lenient view, and because of her situation she wasn’t prosecuted. Towards the end of her time, she started to bottle her own Guinness. She died in 1946 and my father John F. received the licence.
It was during the 1940s that the pint went from 7d to 8d and it was a national outcry at such a huge increase by Guinness. To put it into context it would be equal to a 25p increase today. Boyle was the hub of the National backlash, and it organised a committee known as the “Boyle Froth Blowers” which held its first meeting on the courthouse steps. The organisers urged a huge crowd to boycott porter until Guinness dropped the 1d increase. The idea of the boycott was a great success until it was discovered that the same leaders had been seen breaking their own boycott on their way home, from the meeting. This signalled the end of the organisation.
John Francis Harrington in the doorway of Harrington's Pub
My father took over the business in 1946. It was by now well established, and he made it an even greater success. These were the years of the turf cutting in local bogs, Tonroe, Finisclin and Mon-dubh. There was plenty employment with one or two from every house in the community engaged in turf production. The average wage was between £2 .50 and £3 weekly. It was the first time that wages on this scale were paid in this area. With the pint at 8d and great thirsts to be quenched, business was brisk. In 1947 on St. Patrick ‘s Day his takings were almost £50 with ten firkins of porter and 40 dozen bottles sold. Very good by even today’s standards. He expanded the bottling of porter and introduced the bottle of Smithwick’s, a new choice. He had his own name on the labels for the first time.
Guinness bottled by John. F. Harrington
My father had electric light in the bar, driven by a small generator. This engine was maintained by local mechanic Mick Muldoon and Kevin Meehan. This also powered a mechanical brush for washing the bottles which was operated by Jack Kivlehan. Jack could be heard all day talking above the din of the engine. If the engine noise got louder or in frustration, he would raise his voice so as if to hear what he was saying so he could make the proper reply. “Or maybe you couldn’t get a word in edgeways”. Likely and hardly ringing out every couple of minutes. To the stranger it would appear there was a ‘meitheal’ of men at work, but to the local it was just Jack as normal talking to himself. As each bottle was washed, Jack would throw his keen eye on it to make sure it was spotless, before placing it in 12 dozen crates to be stacked and left to dry. The corks were soaked for days before using. These corks were driven into the bottle by a wooden mallet. The excess was cut off to give a neat appearance. Soon after this came the cooking machine and then the metal caps, as used today.
Then came the labelling which was done by dipping each label in milk and fixing it on the bottle. It stuck like glue. As there were only a few radios and no TV, people had to make their own fun. There were many tricks played on poor unsuspecting people in those days. During World War II the Germans had bombed Dublin, a crowd of local lads staked out Matt Beirnes field to prevent them from landing in Kingsland
Harringtons of Kingsland
- continued 1
John Francis Harrington and Harriet Harrington
Stories of Fr. Kilbride running the lads from the toss pit and cart an ass being tackled to a land through a gate and gate hanging on chimney tops, prompted local composer Berney Kivlehan to write the song “The Crossroads Brigade”. There were characters in my childhood, Jack and Berney, to name but two, who were Kingsland’s equivalent of Hollywood’s Laurel and Hardy. In some ways the even outdid them for their acts were so natural off the cuff (so original). We took them for granted and never realised how good they were until their passing.
It was in the 50s that the bona fide system was introduced. Pubs closed at 10.30 p.m. in summer and 10 p.m. in winter and all-day Sunday. The system allowed anyone who lived over three miles from the pub to be served until midnight during the week and from 12 noon to 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. on Sundays.
This resulted in people from Kingsland drinking in Boyle, while people from Boyle, Ballinameen and Frenchpark drank in Kingsland. When a knock came to the door at night, or on a Sunday the publican would ask “who’s there?” The reply was always travellers, whether they were or not or sometimes “Guard on duty”. But when you opened the door, it was usually the locals who rushed in. This reminds me of one night the Garda called. Upon hearing a knock at the door my father asked the usual question and the reply was “Garda on duty “. My father replied “I’ve heard that one before. But they persisted and on opening the door it was the guards for real. In those days the Garda would go to extreme lengths to secure a prosecution against a “found on”. On one occasion the pub was raided, and a man called Gos Forde was found on. His excuse was he was a traveller, but they did not believe him. About a week later two Garda came to measure the distance from the pub to his home. This was done on a hot summer’s day, using chains. By the time they had measured to the beginning of his land they gave up as he had already exceeded the three miles. So Gos Forde’s claim to fame was that he was a traveller in any pub in Ireland.
My father was also raided in 1953 with a man called Joe Murray found on. His excuse to the court was “I wasn’t able to run as fast as the others. He was fined 5/shillings. This system proved to be tot ally inoperable.
Soon after this I was able to help with the filling and weighing of sugar and tea. I also filled my first pint at 1 shilling and 1 penny, standing on a cider crate to reach the counter. By the age of ten I was able to let my father go and have his tea in the evening. I would serve the customers who were mostly pensioners, ten-twelve of them would have come in by this time: Pat McDermott, William Knott, Martin King, Joe McGarry, Jack Kivlehan, Berney Kevlehan, Martin McGarry, Sonny McGarry, Tom Shannon, Michael Harrington, Owen Murray, Mick Kelly (Fluter), Hubert Connaughton. On a winters night round an open turf fire I listened to them telling ghost stories and folklore and giving the weather forecast, made from keen observations and a knowledge handed down. Other popular topics were the cattle prices. Then the card game would start at 8 or 9 p.m. It was usually ‘25’ for a penny stake. If you made a mistake, you got a good telling off. It was in this cosy setting I learned the history of the area and the game of ‘25’. You could say the pub was my university of life.
It was not unusual during this period to see a man having his hair cut by Mick Harrington or Mick Shannon in one corner, while Ray Devine was selling calves on the bar floor as the experts judged each calf and found fault. Ray was sure he could satisfy even the hardest to please, by bringing in yet another with all the qualities they looked for and complete the sale. If this was on a Saturday evening a dentist on his way from surgery dropping in for quick one, could be seen performing extractions amid the rest. Soon the word of his service got around and all emergencies for a time gathered on Saturday evenings to have their pain relieved. This all happened as if normal, without an eyelid being batted. The grocery always seemed to be busy and with the drawing of the pension of Friday it was like a market day. First would be the arrival of Johnny Beirne with the hot bread from Egans. The batch loaf and the tea cake were the most popular. The customers never seemed to be in a hurry like today. The same pensioners met every Friday as if by prearranged appointment, so they could exchange news from the different townlands. Mrs. McGlynn engaged in deep conversation on ordering her half oz of snuff, kept a keen eye on the size of the paper bag you were using so she got the full weight. As the old men finished their shopping they retired to the bar to have a half-one first, followed by the usual bottle of porter and the ritual of filling the pipe for that well deserved smoke. It was just like a scene from a post card. These men were the “once a week tippers” in for the shopping: B. Brennan, Mick McKeon, Peter Healy, Mick Kelly (Flute), John Henehan, Ned Garvey, Berney Spellman, Mick McLaughlin, Andy Keavney, Jimmy Harlow, Oddy McHugh, Paddy Connolly. As a result, the drink went to their heads a lot quicker than the night-time regulars. The conversation again was usually about the weather, relations, and of course, who’s who and depending on the season, the work being carried out on the farm. As more of them came in and got merrier they drifted back to their youthful days, The folklore flowed as did the odd difference of opinion. Sometimes voices were raised and even led to arguments on their version of events. By one o’clock, eight - ten would be there and their stories seemed to be from another age.
Kingsland Carnival 1967
Then came the labelling which was done by dipping each label in milk and fixing it on the bottle. It stuck like glue. As there were only a few radios and no TV people had to make their own fun. There were many tricks played on poor unsuspecting people in those days. During World War II the Germans had bombed Dublin, a crowd of local lads staked out Matt Beirnes field to prevent them from landing in Kingsland
Kingsland Carnival 1967
L. to R. Eamonn Cummins , Pauric Murren, Peter Hanberry, John Francis Harrington R.I.P., John Cummins and Peter Hanberry
By John Harrington