Storied Homes of Ulster – Orangefield House

The following is part of a series of articles which appeared in the Belfast Telegraph in 1953 under the pen name 'Fina'.

 

Orangefield House

The demesne has gone and mansion is lost

BELFAST, like all great cities, has crept ever outward, urbanising the surrounding pastureland, using stream and river for its own purpose, until now one must seek for those landmarks that were outstanding features little more than a century past.

When, in 1823, Atkinson described Orangefield, the seat of Hugh Crawford, a proprietor of the Belfast Bank, he said that this estate was “a more extensive feature of the Belfast neighbourhood than any of those on the Downpatrick road.”

Then, the handsome square house stood on a richly planted demesne of 200 acres, and a corn and flour mill added greatly to the wealth of the owner and to the welfare of the tenants.

The trees in the demesne were for the most part oak and ash, either fully grown or “far advanced to maturity,” some of them planted no doubt by Thomas Bateson who left Lancashire in the 17th century and came to Orangefield.

The uniformly laid surface of the land was in those days considered a defect, but the extensive views of the Belfast mountains, the hills of Castlereagh and the church of Knock and Breda compensated for this fault.

The fault became a virtue later when the level land was covered with neat and pleasant houses. To-day the extensive demesne is so intersected by parks and avenues that it is difficult to find the “excellent mansion” of which Atkinson wrote.

The mansion, though in good repair, is no longer the spruce dwelling house that it was, and the oak and the ash have long since gone. Only here and there are to be seen the stumps of the great trees beside a sturdy remnant of the wall which once enclosed the demesne.

For a long time Orangefield was deserted and then a group of enterprising businessmen saw its possibilities. It is now the headquarters for several manufacturing concerns. The windows are stacked high with boxed goods and all day vans come and go in the driveway.

Here in this place that once saw a most leisurely manner of living, workpeople are busy preparing and canning food-stuffs, and, since Orangefield House is in the centre of a most populous neighbourhood, it is never difficult to find extra hands. Even the old stables and coach-houses have been re-built and utilised, and a modern, hygienic canning plant has been installed where once the horses rested.

FINA.

Next week – Brownlow House, Lurgan.


Belfast Telegraph, 16 December 1953.

Storied Homes of Ulster – Corry's Crescent

The following is part of a series of articles which appeared in the Belfast Telegraph in 1953 under the pen name 'Fina'.

 

Corry's Crescent

Conceived on lines of Georgian graciousness

WALKING along University Road, with public and private transport perpetually roaring past and crowds of workers, shoppers and University students hurrying on their way, it seems scarcely possible that little more than a hundred years have lapsed since a certain section of the public complained that Queen's had been built too far out in the country.

There is a map of 1848 that shows Queen's and Corry’s Crescent surrounded by open fields, and from this map one can get a clear mental picture of the beautiful square that Robert Carry visualised.

Only the Upper and Lower Crescents of the square he planned were completed, and those who built here later lacked his ideals of beauty.

The Upper Crescent, with its graceful sweeping curve and fine proportions, was completed first, somewhere about 1848, and from the Belfast Directory of 1852 we learn that four new houses in the Lower Crescent were then finished and occupied.

The dignified houses that make up these fine terraces were planned during the middle years of Victoria's reign, when pomposity rampaged in English architecture

Fortunately, Georgian graciousness lingered in Belfast, and here, in Corry’s Crescent is none of the Neo-Gothic influence that characterised new buildings in England at this time, when the spread of education and increased wealth from expanding manufacturing power had given a varied and solid culture to a new middle class.

The terrace where Robert Corry spent much of his life was doubtless the culmination of all he had dreamt during the weary months that followed the accident in which be fractured both his legs.

Looking through the Belfast directories for the years between the Great Exhibition and the Prince Consort's death, one gets a picture of Belfast life in the Crescents. For obvious reasons the Crescents were favoured places of residence for the professors from Queen's. Merchants and manufacturers who wished to live in rural surroundings yet needed to be within easy reach of the city found the neighbourhood a happy choice.

The directory of 1856 tells us that the fortunate occupant of No. 9, Lower Crescent, was a “gentleman.” One wonders if he found the Ladies Seminary run by his next-door-neighbour Miss Black, too noisy for his name had disappeared by 1860.

Merchants, manufacturers, lawyer, parsons, professors, and increasingly, Corry's timber merchants and shipowners, inhabited the terraces, so that, to-day as in the map of 1848, we refer to this place as “Corry's Crescent,” not Upper and Lower Crescent as the directories and nameplates indicate.

FINA.

Next week – Orangefield


Belfast Telegraph, 9 December 1853

The Story of the Ghost of John Greg

And how it gave a Belfast church its pulpit

JOHN GREG, who lived at Ballysillan in 1783, was a great land-grabber in his day. Any tenantry residing around Belfast had their lands taken from them — virtually over their heads.

So pernicious was he in this respect that agrarian trouble became very prevalent and was somewhat difficult to curb by the authorities. It is said that his spirit was unable to rest when he died in 1784.

Some friends appealed to Rev. William Bristow, M.A., vicar and sovereign of Belfast., 1772-1808, to see if he could help in any way. For some unknown reason Mr. Bristow was unable to stay the ghost of John. After many attempts, which ended in failure, he called to his assistance Rev. Hugh O'Donnell, first parish priest of Belfast.

To make a long story short, the efforts of the Rev. Hugh were said at the time to have been successful, though we are not told how, and the spirit of John was at peace.

Mr. Bristow was so grateful for this act of kindness that, when the first chapel was opened in Chapel Lane on May 30, 1784, he presented a pulpit to it. The chapel was opened in great style. The Belfast Volunteer Company, under Captain Waddell Cunningham, attended the ceremony in full dress.

As Rev. Hugh O'Donnell passed through their ranks to celebrate the first Mass, the Protestant Volunteer Company presented arms. The scene was marked for its enthusiasm and perfect good feeling. The congregation returned their most grateful thanks “to the Inhabitants at large for their generously enabling them to erect a handsome edifice for the celebration of divine worship."

It is worthy of note that Rev. Hugh O'Donnell was the first parish priest in Belfast to perform his duties publicly. The distinguished Volunteer Company endeavoured in every way to promote a feeling of freedom in religious matters. One of their resolutions was that "as Christians and as Protestants they rejoiced in the relaxation of the penal laws against their Catholic fellow subjects.”

The Volunteers agitated for "Reform in the Representation of the People." The committee dealing with the matter was composed of the Hon. Colonel Rowley (chairman), the Rt. Hon. John O'Neill, Capt. Black, Colonel Sharman, Capt. Bryson, Mr. Thompson, and Lieut. Moore.

They unanimously resolved on June 9, 1783, "that at an era so honourable to the spirit, wisdom and loyalty of Ireland, more equal representation of the people in Parliament deserves the deliberate attention of every Irishman, as that alone which can perpetuate to future ages the inestimable possession of a free constitution." This was probably passed as an expression of indignation in connection with the Carrickfergus election.

Waddell Cunningham,
First President of
Belfast Chamber of Commerce

CUNNINGHAM was elected member of Parliament for that town by a large majority, but a petition was presented by Joseph Hewitt (the defeated candidate), in which he said the voters were "drunk." Hewitt later became M.P. for Belfast through the efforts of Lord Donegall. Elections of candidates were usually connived at by means of bribery and corruption, irrespective as to the wishes of the people.

WADDELL Cunningham was a distinguished personality at the time. He was first president of the Belfast Chamber of Commerce, founded in 1783, and opened Cunningham's Bank in 1786 (according to Benn). At a meeting of the citizens of Belfast the following resolution was passed, "That the most sincere thanks of this assembly be given to Waddell Cunningham for his patriotic and unremitting exertions in favour of his country's rights."

Dr. A. G. Malcolm thus described him, "full of honours both as a public and private man." Cunningham died December 15, 1797, and was interred in Knockbreda Churchyard, where many of Belfast's distinguished rest.

Rev. Hugh O'Donnell was educated by his father — a man of culture. He died at the age of 75 years, and was buried in Glenarm, Co. Antrim, after ministering to his congregation for 44 years.

The epitaph on his tombstone reads –
    "Closed is the hand that often gave relief
     And cold the Heart that beat to each mans grief"

Would that we could all have our lives thus described!

W. C.

 

This article appeared in the Belfast Telegraph, 6 August 1937.

Belfast in the 1830s...

In the Belfast Telegraph of 14 July 1980, a letter appeared castigating columnist Billy Simpson for an article he had recently written for his weekly column in which he outlined an imaginary visit by a country boy to the Belfast of the 1830s. Between them, they do give a brief but interesting insight into the place and characters of the time. Here is that letter with the original article below...

Belfast in the 1830s

I AM a great admirer of your columnist Billy Simpson. His weekly article is one of the highlights of the Telegraph. His humour is always original, droll, spontaneous and funny. But on reading his article on Belfast in the 1830s, there are so many vague generalities in it, which are open to question, that I have reached the conclusion that Billy has added a subtle touch of his humour — that he is pulling our legs and laughing at us for treating him seriously.

Growing

The dirty evil-smelling Belfast, with its ignorance, darkness and harlotry, was — if it existed at all — only a tiny part of the growing town. Years before that, Michael Atkins — proprietor of the Rosemary Street Theatre — described Belfast as the Athens of the North! Not only did he bring the greatest actress of that time, Mrs. Sarah Siddons, to his Rosemary Street Theatre but, shortly before 1830, he brought her back to the Theatre Royal.

The only Belfast women that Billy could find in 1830 were painted prostitutes plying their trade everywhere. But the town had also ladies like Mrs. McTier and I think Billy should consult her many letters that are still preserved. Mary Anne McCracken, a saintly woman, lived in Rosemary Street in 1830, and many of the things she wrote are still with us.

He did not mention the practical Christian work that Mary Ann McCracken and other women from the First, Second and Third Presbyterian congregations in Rosemary street — did in Clifton House, then as now, the home of the Belfast Charitable Society.

Festivals

It amazes me that Billy did not direct the country boy to one of the many Harpers' festivals held in Waring Street, or to one of the two theatres in Smithfield, where there also circuses, fun fairs and singing public houses. S. M. Elliott, a Ballymacarrett writer of the last century, records that at night there was a gay Bohemian atmosphere in Smithfield Square.

Presbyterianism in Belfast in 1830 is summed up by Billy in a narrow-minded quotation from a dim-witted devine who was opposed to railways operating on Sunday. But this gives a false, and indeed an offensive, picture of Presbyterians then in the 1830s, they were doing much to educate children in Belfast, they were concerned with morals, with the teaching of the Scriptures and many of them tried sincerely to be practical Christians.

As well as this they were only 30 years away from the finest hour in their history. In 1798, hundreds of Belfast Presbyterians fought and many died to try and establish more liberty and better justice for all in this country.

People were better educated in 1830 than Billy Simpson suggests. The National Schools had not arrived but there were many church schools. There was a Society for Promoting Knowledge that still lives in the Lurenhall Library. There were also public schools some of which still survive. Does Billy not know how Academy Street got its name?

I think he should visit the old and historic First Presbyterian Church in Rosemary Street some time. It has been then since the mid 18th century. In it there are memorials to many Belfast folk who lived in our town around 1830. If he studies the inscriptions on some of them, I feel sure he will realise that, in his article he has been unfair and ungenerous to his ancestors.

LOUIS GILBERT, Islandmagee.

---

Here is Billy Simpson's original article from the Belfast Telegraph, 18 June 1980.

Billy Simpson goes back in time to 1830 and tells of the sights and sounds a spirited country boy would have met on his first visit to the city.

ONE HUNDRED and fifty years ago, before the great famine and the industrial revolution combined to create the urban explosion just a few years on, the "city" of Belfast had a population of around 30,000.

The small farm was still the backbone of the economy and provided the livelihood for most people whether squire, tenant farmer or labourer. Around 30 pc of all families still lived in one-room cottages.

There were no railways, although construction of a line between Belfast and Lisburn had already begun. Roads were narrow, rough dirt tracks. The well-to-do could travel by stagecoach. The poor walked. Although indeed few people travelled more than a few miles from their home throughout their lives.

Places that could not be reached on foot, and returned from on the same day, were not likely to be visited by the rural citizen. It was a darker world by night, brightened only by the candle or oil lamp.

A handful of gas lamps had begun to appear along the cobbled streets of Belfast, but if an aircraft could have flown over the Ireland of the 1830s at night the pilot could have been unaware that there was land below at all. The forest of jewelled lights we see today from the air did not exist.

Few people could reed or write. The National schools had yet to be set up although there were some schools in existence teaching the children of the poor their letters and numbers

Laws were harsh. Theft of a shawl could lead to seven years deportation to Australia. Assaulting a man to steal sixpence could lead to the gallows. The wounds of the '98 rising were still fresh. Sectarianism reared its head at times and in the interests of peace the Government had on occasion to ban Orange marches.

Robbers and footpads stalked the highways and travellers armed themselves as well as finances allowed. For the well-to-do there was the pistol and sword. For the coachman, a blunderbus — and for the poor man, a stout staff or club sufficed.

It was the age before petrochemicals changed forever the taste of the air we breath. The world did not smell any better, but it was different. There area little plumbing. The larger towns held some water supplies in dams but spring water or the village pump was the only source of drinking water available to most people.

A spirited country lad who managed to gather together a few shillings would inevitably be tempted to make the long journey to the city, his curiosity aroused by tales of gigantic buildings and ships with masts taller than a high hill. Of mills powered by steam engines. Of shops and stalls filled with an endless variety of mysterious things. Of the Glasgow steamer that brought secondhand clothes twice a week to the markets for sale. Of women who painted their faces like the wild Indians of the Americas. Of rogues and dandies and golden carriages.

Before leaving home he would breakfast on thick porridge washed down by sweetmilk. Tea was an unheard of luxury indulged in only by the rich since it cost between three shillings and 12 shillings a pound and had to be brought from the Orient

His mother would wrap a soda for him to take to eat on the way and warn him not to talk to strangers or drink city water which could be poisonous to a lad raised on clean spring water. His father would smile and warn him to stay away from the wild city woman and keep his money close to his skin where be could always feel it.

The lad would perhaps walk some miles, get a lift part of the way on a passing farm cart and finally reach the hills above the city where he would catch his first sight of the blue ocean and the clutter of streets hugging the river and the lough shone partly hidden in a haze of chimney smoke.

Walking down through the outskirts he would meet more and more people; and probably make the countryman's common error of trying to have a friendly word for each of them, only giving up when the numbers grew too many, and his "That's a brave day" greeting was ignored too often, or when he was frightened off by the rapid jabber of an alien scent that left him baffled.

Nearer the centre of town he would possibly be overpowered by the evil smells of the place. And would once or twice have had to step smartly to avoid being doused by slops thrown from an upstairs window into the street. The noises and the constant shouting would unnerve him. The clattering wagons on the cobbles and the neighing of hundreds of horses.

When he got to the wide avenue of Hercules Street (now Royal Avenue) the air would be rancid. It was a street of butchers and fishmongers. The entrails and waste of a thousand dead animals would lie behind the shops in steaming piles. Flies hovered over the piles like clouds and some crawling through the eye sockets of decaying skulls.

Escaping from the jostle and the throat-clutching aromas of the street of butchers, he might wander to the docks to breath fresher air from the sea.

Here the jostle would be almost as bad. Tail sailing ships from exotic ports would be in the process of being loaded or unloaded. Piles of tanned cowhides would sit high on the wharf waiting for export as chests of tea, coffee and tobacco were lowered ashore in nets by a crane mast.

The city men working the docks seemed incredibly small and frail for such heavy work, belying the wiry toughness under the dirty shirts.

A more rugged breed seemed the sailormen on the decks. Some, he would note, wore rings in their ears and, more shocking still, some were not even white men.

It was here that he met the painted women he heard of. One or two smiled and jabbered at him in their incredibly fast speech that continued to mystify him but the implication of the invitation was difficult to misunderstand in any language and he hurried off red-faced, automatically checking that his money was still there.

On a quieter street he noticed for the first time the lamp at the roadside. He want over and sniffed the strange odour and decided that they were unhealthy things and destined eventually to poison the inhabitants. At the same time he wished it was dark so that he could see one lit up.

Back on the wider avenues the market stallholders were shouting their wares. The odd drunken scut staggered out of an ale house and wandered off talking to himself.

There was a crowd at a corner surrounding a hell-fire Presbyterian preacher calling the Lord's wrath to descend on the Ulster Railway Company for planning to run trains on a Sunday when the new steam engine began operating between Lisburn and Belfast next year.

"I would rather join a company for theft and murder than the Ulster Railway Company because its business is sending souls to hell at the rate of sixpence apiece. Every sound of a railway whistle is answered by a shout in hell," he bellowed.

Some of tha crowd shouted "Hallelujah." Some of them shouted other things. A man with ale on his breath started shoving and a scuffle developed until someone shouted "It's the Peelers." The young man hadn't seen a Peeler before and stayed where he was while part of the crowd disappeared.

The constable was a tail, serious-faced individual in a blue frock coat with bright buttons. Closer to, the youth realised it was the tall hat that made him seem larger than he was. The constable walked through the throng in the firm and obviously correct, belief that his mere presence would quieten tempers.

Admiring his strut, the young man thought such a personage would be a highly decorative addition to his neighbouring village and regretted that the local folk had voted against having Peelers in the area since it would reflect on the honesty of the people of the district.

Back in the markets the hawkers, peddlers, water carriers, fish merchants, egg wives and wagoners kept up their cries and the young man struggled through the crowds to enter an ale house where he paid his 2d for a jug of Kane's Beer, brewed nearby in North Street.

Here he would over hear yarns of varying degrees of veracity. A sailorman might tell of seeing a sea serpent two miles long from bow to stern and someone recently back from America would tell of a newly-invented cart that loaded itself with scoops attached to the wheels. "It can do the work of 20 men and will take all our jobs if we allow them in here."

Another man complained about the new gas lamps being against nature since God had specifically made an endless supply of whales in the sea to provide oil for lamps.

Outside again the young man wandered through the streets for hours. Tay Lane, Clabber Lones, Cripple Row, Leggs Lane and through the rich Georgian street called Linenhall (now Donegall Place).

A street crier for the Dublin stagecoach company shouted the virtues of this wonderful mode of transport guaranteed to get to Dublin in just 14 hours — and for the ridiculously cheap price of only £1 16s 3d.

The young man wondered who on God's earth had £1 16s 3d. to spend on anything — never mind throwing it away on a tedious journey to another city. Having seen one city he had begun to appreciate the virtues of the farm.

By nightfall he would stand for some time watching the gas lamps being lit before finding lodgings for the night and a warm supper. He would not buy anything until he was starting home tomorrow. A few small shillings would be easier to guard from suspicious looking strangers than the few gifts he would purchase.

Free Tram Rides

“The Belfast Corporation voted themselves free ‘passes’ on the new city tramways, on 1st January, 1905.” — City Press.

If you want gear, then never fear
   To grab and gather pelf;
But mind the penny, one or many,
   The pound will mind itself.

Our Councilmen of six times ten,
   The trustees of the people,
All sworn to ward our gold, and guard
   The town from sewer to steeple,

Have bought in fine the tramway line.
   And all its skinny horses;
And ere they die may 'lectrify
   The company’s old hearses.

But first they’ve tried and ’lectrified
   The people of the city
By issuing “pass” to every ass
   In office or committee.

Poor men may toil, and women moil.
   Their rags and hunger hiding,
While paying for each councillor
   On plush and velvet riding.

Our people work like Jap or Turk
   For barely food and clothing;
They’re so oppress’t they can’t protest,
   Nor show their silent loathing

For belted knights and baronites,
   And merchant princes many.
Who take their tram nor care a d------
   Who pays their wretched penny.

They’ll pay no more, nor go footsore,
   But show their “pass” and snigger,
And tax the poor, and crowd the car.
   And grin like any nigger!

The horses cheap can hardly creep
   Around from streets to stations.
Yet councillors now load the cars
   With their huge corporations.

No doubt they’re great and much elate,
   But then it’s hardly funny
That they should be so deuced free
   With other people’s money!

Great City Fathers! one soon gathers
   How stupid you must think us,
That we should vote and never note
   The way you all can blink us.

But are you not the meanest lot
   That ever ruled a city,
To tax the poor and load the car
   With neither shame nor pity?

From Antrim Idylls and other Poems 

by W Clarke Robinson (published 1907).

Image: Belfast City Tramways Horsecar No 23 taken in 1905 (after the corporation take-over). The car is still in the livery of the Belfast Street Tramways Company. From the National Tramway Museum.

A Case of Local History

Neill's Hill Station and surrounding area. OSNI Historic Third Edition Map 1900-1907.

When looking into the history of a local area information can be found in some unexpected places.

As an example I present the case of Boyd v. Keenan in 1908.

This case, covered in the court reports of the major newspapers, was a suit for the recovery of moneys relating to the maintenance of a road, but in doing so, however, it gives some insight into the area around Neill's Hill and the transcript below is that from the Irish News, 20th May 1908.

Neill's Hill was a railway halt on the Belfast and Co. Down Railway which ran from Comber to Belfast. Situated in the townland of Ballycloghan it served the nearby village of Ballyhackamore.

The contemporary map above shows the station and surrounding area, and would indicate that the sandpits mentioned were situated between the station and the Knock River at Clara Park. The area now known as Sandhill Gardens and Sandhill Parade.

BOYD V. KEENAN.

This was a civil bill action in which Henry Boyd, William Sinclair Boyd, and Robert Boyd, of 93 Ann Street, agents, sued Jacob Walter Keenan, 36 Corporation Street, shipbroker, to recover the sum of £45 9s 6d, money paid, laid out, and expended by the plaintiffs for the use of the defendant, at the request of the defendant, under an agreement dated 16th February, 1897. The case was tried before a jury.

Mr. T. J. Campbell (instructed by Messrs. Joseph Donnelly & Co.) was for the plaintiffs, and Mr. A. J. Lewis defended.

Mr. Campbell said they sought to recover £45 9s 6d, money actually paid for the benefit of the defendant under an agreement dated February 16th, 1897, and under which agreement plaintiffs were bound to keep a road in proper repair. The road was used by defendant in connection with an excavation of sand near Neill’s Hill Station. Defendant, who was a shipbroker, started business in the sand line in 1905, and he used the road to cart the sand from the place where it was procured. In the year 1897 the road in question was merely a private way, but since defendant began to dig and cart sand it had been used more than formerly. Heavy loads of sand were daily carted over the road, which was in constant need of repair. These repairs had been done by the plaintiffs, who now sought to recover for work extending over a period of twenty months.

Mr. Henry Seaver. C. E., deposed that the road was a little over three hundred yards in length, and led from Neill's Hill Station to some villas. Witness also deposed to the contract which was entered into in 1897 relative to the repair of the road being carried out by plaintiffs, and added that in 1905 defendant developed some sand pits which led to heavier traffic passing over the road than previously. The plaintiffs did not use the road themselves. Witness described the effect of heavy traffic passing over the road, and said more frequent repairs were necessitated. He supervised the work, which was done at the lowest possible cost.

Cross-examined by Mr. Lewis, witness said the cost of repair was not excessive, considering the amount of traffic passing over the road, which was constructed in the first instance for light traffic. He admitted the centre of the road was higher than the footpaths on either side.

Evidence was also given by Mr. Francis Quinn, who made the road, to the effect that the expenditure on the road was fair and reasonable. He also deposed to the agreement between Mr. Thomas Tier, who formerly owned the road, and plaintiffs.

James Shaw was also examined, and this closed plaintiffs' case.

THE DEFENCE.

Mr. Lewis, opening the case for the defence, said he and others were growing old in this litigation, about which there was one peculiar circumstance. It was that at no time had they seen any of the plaintiffs in the witness-box. Keenan was a man who began as a common soldier. He saved sufficient money to buy a little property, and he had his little all in that property at Neill's Hill. Originally the lease was granted by the representatives of Sir Thomas M'Clure to a man named Tier, who was bound by covenant to erect certain houses on the land. The ground, however, turned out to be of such formation that it was necessary to level it, and finally he sold to Keenan for £2,000. Keenan developed the property more rapidly than his predecessor, and began to export sand, which evidently the plaintiffs did not like. Continuing, Mr. Lewis said the matter would turn upon the construction of an agreement entered into between Tier and the plaintiffs, and he submitted that the proper interpretation of that agreement was that the plaintiffs should provide the materials necessary for the repair of the road, and that Tier or Tier's successors should provide the necessary labour. Mr. Lewis then read numerous correspondence bearing on the subject, and, continuing, said the case was like the story of the boy and the frog — it was fun to Boyds, but death to Keenan, and he submitted that there was not fair dealing.

Defendant, examined, said in 1905 he purchased Tier's interests in the estate. He developed sandpits in order to prepare the land for buildings, and plaintiffs also had sandpits in the neighbourhood. He alleged the plaintiffs first resisted his right to the road. In the terms of the agreement referred to, he applied to plaintiffs to supply him with gravel for repairs to the road, and they wrote telling him to take what gravel he required. He added that he was always anxious for an amicable settlement, and was still willing to pay his proportionate share of the cost of repair.

Cross-examined, witness said the plaintiffs wrote him to the effect that gravel was too soft, and that macadam should be used for repairs. He admitted his liability to pay a fair and reasonable price for the maintenance of the road, but he contended the account rendered was excessive.

Mr. Allan B. Stokes, C.E., was also examined. He was of opinion the road was not being kept in proper condition. The gravel to be found on the estate was suitable for repair work.

Mr. Robert A. Boyd corroborated the last witness as to the view that the road was not kept in proper repair. A sum of £10 8s would keep the road in repair for a year.

Benjamin Stafford, contractor, estimated bis price for adequate repairs for a year at £14.

His Honour having summed up, the jury retired to consider their verdict.

The jury found for plaintiffs in the sum of £31 1s, and His Honour granted a decree accordingly.

Irish News, 20th May 1908

Griffith's Valuation map

In this earlier map created for the Griffiths Valuation, Neill's Hill Station is indicated as a crossing although not named (the station being erected and opened in March 1890). The land there being leased from the Belfast and Co. Down Railway by Robert Boyd – although one would suspect it was not the same Robert Boyd named in the suit. The area at that time being largely undeveloped and Cadgers Loaney which became the Sandown Road.

Robert is also recorded as the leaser of section 6 in the adjacent townland of Ballyhackamore through which the railway continued.

Fifty Years of the General Assembly – A Reminiscence in 1917 (pt 2)

By “THE MAN IN THE STREET.”

II

Last week I attempted an outline of some of the changes in Ulster Presbyterian life and outlook during the last half-century as they presented themselves to my memory and observation. But in the matter of change Ulster, or Ireland, did not stand alone, for every nation in the world has changed in the time, and some of them almost beyond recognition. The last half-century has been a period not alone of change, but of revolution, in Church and State, in life and thought, in literature, science, and art, and in ideas, religious, political, and social. Old things in many cases, if not in all, have passed away, and are become new. And the greatest change of all is passing before our eyes, the full results of which only future generations will be able to estimate and realise. If our own Church has changed in some of its outward forms and ceremonies, it remains the same still in all essentials, holding to the same truths, aiming at the same objects, and making for the same great ends. Some tell us that the Church has broadened, as the poet has told us that the thoughts of men are widening with the process of the suns. And that is possibly true. But, as one of the old school, but I hope not unsympathetic with modern ideas, I can only say that I am doubtful if we have in the present day, especially on the part of the young, as much earnest loyalty to the Church its ideals as existed in my younger days. But I must resume.

Taking the statistics of the General Assembly fifty years ago and now there is much on which we have to congratulate ourselves. We have lost in the interval by emigration and migration that often meant lapsing. The war, too, has removed many thousands of our sons to the war front and many hundreds from the roll of time. But despite all, the records of last Assembly as compared with those of the Assembly of 1867 show a considerable increase in the number of families connected with the Church. — 86,446 as against 81,312. The number of ministers has increased from 598 to 641, while the number of congregations has only increased by two — namely, from 560 to 562. That, of course, is explainable by the fact that in the Regium Donum days any congregation that could raise a stipend of £35 could call a minister and secure the Regium Donum, and ministers in those days were content with very little. The withdrawal of the Regium Donum involved greater demands on the purses of the people, and with it a limitation or amalgamation of congregations, a process that seems to be necessary still. The amount of stipend paid ministers in 1867, as I mentioned last week, was £33,836, divided among 594 ministers. The amount paid by congregations last year was £120,322, among 641 ministers. Of course, the Regium Donum (£40,000) served as a substantial supplement fifty years ago, whereas now the only money the people have not to provide directly is the interest the Regium Donum Commutation Fund produces.

The number of elders that in ’67 was 2,117 was last year 2,319, and the number of stipend-payers has increased from 68,535 to 77,321. There is only falling off in two departments. One is in the number of communicants, which has fallen from 129,320 to 104,306, which is possibly to be in part accounted for by the fact that the youth of the present day do not seem to have been as well trained in their duty, or not as well inclined to perform it, as fifty years ago. The other is in the number of Sabbath-schools, which is noW only 969 as compared with 1,132 in 1867. But the curious fact is that while there is a reduction in the number of schools there is an increase in the number of teachers and scholars, the teachers last year having been 7,661 as against 7,250 in ’67, and the average number of scholars 89,254 as against 57,914.

But the most marked change of all is in the givings of the people. These have gone up leaps and bounds. And this has been most remarkable in the case of missions. The total raised in 1867 for missions was £11,109. Last year it was £35,075, including £15,135 for the Foreign Mission, and a little missionary bird has whispered to me that it will be larger still. The general Sabbath collections have increased almost in the same ratio from £11,721 fifty years ago to £33,959 last year. So that whatever else may be said about the changes either for better or for worse in our Presbyterianism, the Christian grace of giving has been developed to an extent highly creditable to the liberality as well as the loyalty of the people. It shows that the General Assembly represents not only a living but a giving Church. And the most interesting and remarkable fact is that the war, with the many financial burdens it has cast upon the people, has called forth a spirit of liberality that is as refreshing as it is inspiring.

My first regular acquaintance with the General Assembly was made in the year of pace 1867. The meeting took place that year in Dublin, in Rutland Square Church, which had only been opened a very short time, and in all but acoustics was the gem of Irish Presbyterian churches. As to whether it has been equalled or surpassed since I shall be silent. But I may say that as I first surveyed its stately proportions and its fine site could not help feeling that Dublin led in the perfection of the churches up till that time. I have done my best to recall some personal incident in connection with the meeting, but I can remember none save the startling surprise I gave some of my brother reporters on one morning in which the Rev. William M'Clure opened the Assembly by finishing a great many of his sentences sotto voce before he had completed them himself. The reason for that, of course, was that in Derry days I had often listened to Mr. M'Clure’s prayers, and though he did not use my formal ritual, a great many of his petitions, with what I might call reasons annexed, were in the same terms. One of these was an expression of hope that none of his hearers would be among those who after their death would have towering monuments and lying epitaphs telling of virtues they never possessed.

Here let me pause to notice another change the last fifty years have brought about to regard to the General Assembly. In the olden time the local newspapers, outside “The Banner of Ulster,” took comparatively little interest in the General Assembly. The “Northern Whig” was more Unitarian and less orthodox than it is to-day, and the “News Letter” represented the Established Church, which did not look upon the General Assembly or what it represented with much toleration o» admiration. Two, three, or four columns a day were considered sufficient to represent the interest of the papers or their leaders in the reports of the General Assembly. In later years these newspapers vie with each other in showing respect and appreciation for the body, and make special provision for a descriptive or analytical sketch as well, written by their own clerical correspondents. This is satisfactory evidence of the increasing interest in and the influence attaching to the proceedings of the General Assembly. “The Banner of Ulster” fifty years ago was the only local newspaper that had any claim or made any effort to represent Presbyterianism. It is true that paper at the time had somewhat fallen from its high estate, for which, no doubt, lack of capital and lack of enterprise in its proprietors were mainly responsible. When the “Whig” and “News-Letter” developed into daily papers, the old “Banner” remained tri-weekly, and in consequence fell behind in the race. And yet its Editor was one of the most able and rigorous writers of the day, Durham Dunlop, whose brilliancy was only weakened by his tendency to strong writing and a total indifference to the law of libel. It was this characteristic of Mr. Dunlop that led John Rea on one occasion, to tender advice to Mr. S. E. M’Cormick, the managing proprietor, as to the means of increasing its circulation. It was that he should get Durham Dunlop to write a lot of libels, and get “Davy” Dunlop — the David Dunlop a retired minister of strong evangelistic and open-air preaching enthusiasm — to go into the witness-box and swear a lot of lies about the circulation. The possibility of such an action on the part of Mr. Dunlop was, of course, absurd, but respect or reverence for anything or anybody was not one of Mr. Rea’s characteristics, and he believed that the road to newspaper success lay through libels, and especially his own libels. I well remember that after we started “The Ulster Echo” he came to me one day and told me that I had now get the chance of a lifetime — if I would just, without regard to the law of libel, expose all his enemies he would defend me and the paper free of all cost, and the fortunes of both would be made. As events proved, I did not accept the risk, and the paper and myself lost our fortunes.

It was in order to give a more full and complete report of the Assembly that I, with all my youth, inexperience, and nervousness on my head, was sent to Dublin to report this Assembly. My colleagues of the “News-Letter” and “Whig” were both experienced and exceptionally gifted reporters, William Gilliland and T. W. M‘Ninch, the former of whom died only a few years ago after serving for a generation as assistant Editor of the “Daily Telegraph,” and the latter of whom went to an early grave a generation ago. I was fully impressed at once with self-importance and self-insufficiency, and entered on my task with fear and trembling. And I hope I will be excused if I give a brief account of my first baptism into the General Assembly. That body sat, as it does now, from half-past ten to four o’clock, and again from seven to ten or generally eleven. And that for ten days or a fortnight. This Assembly, I think, lasted fourteen days and adjourneyed to Belfast, where it continued for three or four days more. And oratory was more a feature of the Assembly in those days than in these. By oratory I mean elaborately prepared speeches, without which few of the leading spirits came up to the Assembly. We have less of that kind of oratory now and more business and, I will add, with all respect to the memory of the Rev. Robt. Park, who was an excellent officer, a more hustling and business-like clerk, with the result that the Assembly now does as much work and as well in one week as it did in the olden time in a little short of two.

Here was I with this flow of oratory for eight, nine, and sometimes ten hours a day, obliged to produce many columns a day, and have it all written up and sent off each day. I had to listen to what I could and write up a report of one speech while listening to another, and then to fill up the interval of adjournment by writing up. And then when the fathers and brethren adjourned to their hotel to keep on writing up till generally three o’clock in the morning, and then getting called at eight o’clock to get my despatch off by the train. This continuing for nearly a fortnight, with the only interval part of Saturday and Sunday, was, to say the least, trying, so that it is no wonder I remember it.

But I do not mean to suggest that I wrote out all the speeches. In those days, as I have hinted, the members came up well stocked with manuscript speeches, and I got these, the only difficulty being the “cutting down” of the supplied speeches to keep them in some proportion of the unsupplied speeches — a process not always carried out, to the detriment of that balance and proportion which all good reports should have, and I must say then — I would not say a word as to the present — that very often second-rate speeches occupied greater space in the paper than first-rate speeches which the reporter had to manipulate or mangle in his haste or leisure. I have an impression that with this combination I flooded the sub-editor with enough copy to fill two newspapers, and that his task in cutting down was as heavy as mine in writing up. But he was an Edgar and a gentleman, and all he said on my return was that we both had had a very busy Assembly.

But I was young in those days. It was only in youth that reporters err in this matter of conscientious overwork. When they get older they become wiser, and, like the “conscientious objectors” of the present day, keep their sense of duty and service within bounds. But lest I should be supposed to reflect on my brethren of the Press, I may here say that we have most excellent reporters in this day, but they are not expected to do as much work as those of the olden time. Then one reporter was expected to do a whole day’s General Assembly or a whole day’s City Council, whereas the work is now done in relays. But, no doubt, it is much better done, for even reporters can do more careful work by having time to condense their reports, and thus a shorter report now is likely to be more satisfactory than a fuller report in the olden time. I have even heard orators express themselves better satisfied with a condensed report than a full one of their own speech. I may here remark as an aside that orators are the betes noirs of reporters, who often find that they can obtain more reportable matter from the spontaneous speaker than the more elaborate orator. If they do not contain so many finished sentences, they often contain more comprehensible ideas. This may explain why at times orators do not secure as much space in proportion as mere speakers. I remember in my young days a most flamboyant orator who carried everything before him at a debating society. A young friend of mine was in the habit of attending these debates, and always came away with the song that this orator was the hero of the evening. But when he was asked to give an account of what was said he was able to tell something that all the other speakers had said, but not a word or idea could he remember of the pseudo Demosthenes of the occasion.

__________________________________________

My good friend Mr. Thomas Meek, J.P., Moneymore, reminds me that I was in error in stating that Mr. Greer had never been returned for County Derry. He was returned once, and Mr. Meek gives the following explanation, which he says he had been reminded of by an old friend now deceased — “Mr. Greer first contested County Derry in 1852. The second time was a bye-election, in which the voting lasted for two days and ended in nothing owing to a dissolution of Parliament. He was returned at the General Election that followed owing to an incident that had occurred at the previous contest. The Rev. Mr. Gamble, of Castledawson, brought the Liberals from his district together, doing all he could to keep up their courage, as they had to face the landlords and agents, who were taking notes of the voting. The result was he was arrested and imprisoned, but I do not remember the circumstances of his release. This roused the Presbyterian blood, and it had not time to cool till the General Election came, and Mr. Greer was returned. He afterwards contested it for the fourth time, including the two days. The blood had cooled. Some of the leaders had suffered, and others had to think of the last part of the old motto, ‘Our faith and our firesides,’ for there was force in it at that time in a literal sense in connection with the turf bog from which all farmers were supplied with fuel, and the old hearthstone made so comfortable.”

To be continued...


From The Witness, 11th May 1917.

The "Man in the Street" was the pen name of Alexander McMonagle, editor and manager of The Witness and Ulster Echo.

Fifty Years of the (Presbyterian) General Assembly – A Reminiscence in 1917

By “THE MAN IN THE STREET.”

Though I am not wearied in my efforts to recall some of my memories of Belfast life, I am getting afraid my readers may be. At all events change is good for the mind and body, and I have decided to turn my mind into another channel for a time, and return to the old as the spirit moves me. And yet, in some respects, the General Assembly is really a part of Belfast life, for the vast majority of its meetings have been held in the city, and the Assembly Hall now gives it not only a permanent local habitation, but a name. Belfast is to the Irish Presbyterians what Jerusalem was to the Jews of old, the place whither its tribes go up periodically to express and emphasise the concentration of their faith and energies. No doubt the Jews had local synagogues in Jerusalem as well as all over Palestine; but it was the Temple that emphasised and symbolised the unity of faith and worship of all. And in that respect the Assembly Hall may be regarded as the Temple of the Irish Presbyterian Church.

Yet while I am stating that, it is almost ironical that the first General Assembly of the Church that I attended officially was held in Dublin in Rutland Square, as that had only recently been erected, and which remains to this day as a monument to the memory of the founder and an emblem of Presbyterian vitality in the Irish capital. It is true I had been at two Assemblies — one as a child and one as an amateur reporter. As a child, the only memory I have of it is struggling among an interested crowd of adults to get a glimpse of the Moderator in the pulpit. It must have been a fine sermon, if I judge from my memory of the intense interest with which it was listened to by those who could understand it. And I later learned that it was a fine sermon from reading it. And no one who remembers Dr. Goudy or who has heard of him by repute can doubt that it was, for the Moderator was the Rev. Dr. Goudy, of Strabane, and the text was, “Buy the truth, and sell it not.” Dr. Goudy had passed away before I was mature enough to appreciate him; but he was one of the greatest Presbyterians of that generation (and it included Dr. Cooke), and in my humble judgment in every respect one of the finest of any generation. While not associating the Church then or now with politics, I may say that Dr. Goudy was the leader of what was termed the Liberal party in the Assembly, while Dr. Cooke was the leader of the Conservatives; and my juvenile associations and sympathies were with the Liberals, which may, to some extent, account for my appreciation. My second appearance was as a very juvenile reporter sent down from Derry to study, if not to report, the Assembly; but I am afraid both my study and my report were unsatisfactory. The subject under discussion was the supplemental charter, or something like that, in connection with higher education and the relation of the Assembly to it. I listened for a couple of days; but I could no more “get the hang of it” than an American Pressman whom I lately met could get the hang of the Irish question in three days.

I attended all the General Assemblies since save one, so that I think I can claim a record that could not be surpassed by anyone now living. I have learned much of its working and its workers; and I have enjoyed the acquaintance of large numbers who have come and gone since, as of those happily still among us. I have heard most of the great speeches and great speakers of the time, and followed its proceedings each year with more or less interest. What I propose to deal with in my usual loose and unsystematic way are some of the principal features of the Assemblies and with impressions of some of the leaders who took part in the proceedings. To some of these I may have referred in one connection, with another at different times in the past; but I hope I shall be excused for referring to them again in connection with their Assembly life and work. I hope I will not prove tedious, and that my personal impressions and recollections of them will awaken pleasing memories in the old and awaken interest on the part of the young, both of ministers and laity, of some of the departed worthies of the Church.

But first let me say that great changes have come over the Church as well as the country in these fifty years. Though faith and loyalty continue the same in many respects, the old order has changed, and given place to new. Fifty years ago the conditions of Church life, as, indeed, of all life, were different from the present. So far as recognition was concerned, religiously and politically, the Irish Presbyterian Church occupied a subordinate position. It was overshadowed by the Episcopal State Church, with its large endowments and social prestige; and it had no political representation. I well remember the time when Mr. Samuel M'Curdy Greer contested the County Derry as a Presbyterian, with as large a proportion of Presbyterians as at present, he was not returned. And, indeed, in some Episcopal quarters at the time it was regarded as something like impertinence for a Presbyterian to dare even in that way to come between the wind and Episcopal nobility and supremacy. And defeat afterwards awaited him when he contested the city of Derry some years later, where, I must say, some prominent Presbyterians were among his most prominent opponents.

The only place for which a Presbyterian sat at the beginning of the last half-century was in Belfast, where, by an agreement, tacit or otherwise, the representation was divided between a Presbyterian and an Episcopalian, with the preliminary requisite that the Presbyterian should be a Conservative. William Sharman Crawford, the father of tenant-right, was a Presbyterian; but he could not find a seat in Ulster, and it was as the representative of an English constituency he made his first Parliamentary effort on behalf of the cause with which his name has been so honourably and historically associated. In fact, so much social distinction was associated with the State Church that in many cases Presbyterians as they advanced in the world, or wanted to advance in the social world, shook the dust of Presbyterianism from their feet and became Episcopalians. One would not need to go very far to find among the members of the Episcopal Church of to-day men and women whose fathers and grandfathers were Presbyterians in the days of which I am writing. Indeed, it was one of the “gags” of the time that when a Presbyterian mounted a gig — there were no motors in those days — he went to the Episcopal Church. This State connection militated against Presbyterianism in two ways. The social dignity of the Established Church drew away some of the richest members of the Church, and the connection of the Presbyterians with the State through the Regium Donum, which, however, did a great deal for the Church in older times, did not encourage liberal giving in those who remained. In those days £70 was considered a large sum, especially in country districts, and many members, both in town and country, imagined that when a minister was sure of something approaching 30s or 40s a week he should not require much more. For that reason the standard of giving was low, just as the standard of living was, and the amounts paid for stipend or to mission or other collections was small. I am not quite sure that we have risen to the proper ideal yet; but we are getting on and up by degrees; and the time may come when the members of the Church will do their duty to themselves, to the Church, and to the ministry. At the same time, much has been done in that direction, as may be illustrated by the following figures. According to the Minutes of 1867, the total paid to 598 ministers was £33,836, to which must be added the £40,000 of Regium Donum. The Minutes of last year show that the total paid to 641 ministers was £130,322, including the Sustentation Fund and the interest on the Commutation Fund.

Then tenant-right had not been legally recognised, and the tenancies of the farmers were not secure as at present; and the danger of arbitrary periodical raising of the rents or the fear that rent would be raised kept the tenant-farmers, of whom the Church, at any rate in the rural districts, was chiefly composed, in a state of dread as to the future. And it is possible the feeling of that time, reproduced in their descendants, has given to the minds of the farmers a closeness and narrowness of financial outlook when circumstances do not so much demand it. I am bound in fairness to say, however, that in a vast number of cases the farmers of this generation are showing a more independent as well as a more liberal spirit than those of the older generation; and I hope both will continue to increase.

In these old days Presbyterians did not call their places of worship churches, but meeting houses. It was only Episcopalians who went to church, as Roman Catholics and Methodists went to chapel. Presbyterians simply went to meeting. And these meeting places were very dear to them. They were not so imposing as those of the present day. If, in these days, we aim at cathedral style in our architecture, our fathers seemed content with taking barns as their models, for plainness at all events. I have been in my time in many of these old churches, to which the only entrance to the gallery was by stone steps outside. Yet I question if half of us who attend the more modern and stately churches are half as much devoted to the walls, or to the service within the walls, or to the minister, as our fathers were to theirs. And not only so, but our fathers thought less of a walk of two or three, or even four, miles to “meeting” than their sons would do of a walk of half the distance; and while our fathers were glad to wait for two hours and more of a service, the greater part of it a sermon, their sons seem to think half the time enough, and, from their estimate of the minister not by the length, but the brevity of the service. And not only did our fathers enjoy these long services, but after one service they were indulged with an interval of an hour or so, and then returned to a second service. It was generally, however, the old people that remained for the second service; the young people were not supposed to have reached the perfection of a four hours’ service on one Sabbath, The method, however, of dual service was necessary, on account of the great distance travelled. No doubt, many of the farmers had jaunting cars or gigs of their own, and accommodation for these had to be provided near the church. I remember hearing of one case in which the peace of the congregation was disturbed for some time by the fact that the minister thought the congregation had made more costly accommodation for the horses and cars of the members than they had for the minister!

In these old times we sat during the praise and stood during the prayers, and the etiquette or custom was, when we stood, to turn our backs to the minister. I well remember when the Rev. Richard Smyth (afterwards D.D. and M.P. and professor) got up to introduce the “innovation” of standing during the praise and sitting during the prayer. I cannot, of course, remember all he said, and am not sure that I understood it; but the impression left on my mind is that he took a long time to explain it, as if it was such a daring innovation as would call forth all his powers for its justification. We had old and solemn tunes in those days – nothing would merit the term “lilting” which I heard applied by a lover of the old paths to some of the new tunes. We were content with the Psalms of David, with an occasional extension to a paraphrase. We had no hymns and no instruments — we regarded these as Episcopal or Papistical. And though I was never such an ardent adherent to the old use and wont as my friends, Dr. Petticrew, Dr. Corkey, and Dr. George Magill, I must say that the first time I heard of the introduction of a harmonium into public worship I was inclined to ask if I slept or I dreamt or if visions were about.

To be continued...


From The Witness, 4th May 1917.

The "Man in the Street" was the pen name of Alexander McMonagle, editor and manager of The Witness and Ulster Echo.

Fifty Years of Belfast Life (1866-1917) part 42

By “THE MAN IN THE STREET.”

XLII

While I was looking over a file of “The Ulster Echo” for 1892, to refresh my memory regarding the Ulster Convention, the next Belfast incident I desire to recall, a young clerical friend from the country, who had called in, remarked, partly in jest, I think, “We are going to have Home Rule at last.” “Well,” I remarked, “I have heard that at intervals for the last thirty years, and we have not got it yet.” “But it was never on the Statute Book before,” paid my friend. “No doubt,” said I, “but the curious thing is none of those who got it put on the Statute Book would, want it as it is there.”

It is difficult to realise that it is a quarter of a century since the great Ulster Convention of 1892, the greatest Convention ever held in this country, and I would be inclined to say the greatest ever held in any country. The days of the Unionist Government were running out, and there were indications, or at least fears, that the General Election then imminent might result in a triumph for Mr. Gladstone, who, like an old war horse, was still eager for the fray, and determined if he could to take revenge upon the dissenting Liberals and Ulster for having dared to thwart his ambition. In the of spring of the year the Unionist members of Parliament from Ulster met in London and projected a great Convention in the early summer to voice the opinion of the Unionists of Ulster the question of Home Rule. The members sent two of the most prominent men and most pronounced and active Unionist campaigners to sound local feeling on the subject and to explain the purpose and object of the Convention, Colonel Saunderson and Mr. T. W. Russell. No two better or more representative men for the purpose could have been selected. Both were enthusiastic upholders and defenders of the Unionist policy; both were vigorous and slashing orators who did not speak with bated breath about the composition, character, and conduct of the Nationalists of the time. Colonel Saunderson represented the Conservative section of the party, and Mr. T. W. Russell the Liberal section; and both were one in their loyalty to the Union and one in the hate and venom they engendered the breasts of the Nationalists by the boldness and fearlessness of their criticisms. Indeed, I am inclined to think that Mr. Russell was the more hated of the two, and that chiefly because he was the more violent and forceful in his onslaughts. The Colonel, perhaps, used the rapier and Mr. Russell broadsword, but the spirit of both was same.

The first response to the suggestion took the form of a circular convening a meeting in Belfast, signed by four leaders of the time, only one of whom survives. These were Sir Wm. Ewart, Thomas Sinclair, Robert MacGeagh, and R. R. Kane, D.D. In response to that circular a preliminary meeting was held on the 4th April, which resulted in a proposal to hold a Convention in the summer to voice the opinion of Ulster Protestants and Unionists against the policy of a Dublin Parliament. Colonel Saunderson and Mr. Russell both spoke at this meeting, and gave voice to the opinion of the Parliamentary leaders and the Unionists of Ulster. In the light of subsequent developments it may be interesting to quote a few sentences at random from Mr. Russell’s speech which would bear repetition and have application at the present time. He said inter alia — “We protest against the setting up of an Irish Parliament and against being cut off from our inheritance in the Imperial Parliament. If Mr. Gladstone thinks he is going to get rid of the Irish question at Westminster they would tell him that he was launching an unworthy ship, not in fair weather, but in the most howling storm. So far from getting rid of the Irish question, he would have it in an intensified form, and they would have to coerce men who would not be law-breakers, but who were passionately loyal to their country. If the Imperial Parliament cast them off and placed them under the domination of men who for the last thirteen years excited their moral loathing they would not obey them.”

It was first intended to hold the Convention on the first week in June, but as the General Assembly usually met in that week it was put off to the middle of the month, actually the 17th. Accordingly, the interval was spent in the organisation and in preparation for the conference. Every county and every district held its meetings and appointed delegates. The fiery cross spread from one end of the province to the other, and the response was something unparalleled. The daily papers were filled with reports of meetings and the names of delegates, and each county and district vied with the other in the intensity of its enthusiasm and in the selection of the best representatives. But the interest was not limited to Belfast or to Ulster. The British Press was full of it, and the public orators on both sides made it the subject of their text. The “Daily News” and the Radical and Nationalist organs sneered at the movement and sneered at Ulster, just as they do still, but their jeers and taunts only intensified the determination and enthusiasm of the Ulstermen, as they do till this day. Every day brought forth some new support, some new organisation, and as the time approached delegates were announced from England and Scotland and from the South and West of Ireland, and messages of encouragement and support poured in from all parts of the British Empire that respected loyalty and the tradition and spirit of a united kingdom and an inspiring Imperialism.

The work and organisation of many weeks was crowned on the great day; Ulster Day, par excellence, the 17th June. No one who lived through it and was in the centre of its activities, as I was, could forget it. Belfast never saw such a day; and Mr. T. W. Russell, who was one of the most active and delighted spirits of the movement, declared that he had never seen anything approaching yt in his life save the demonstration to Mr. Balfour in Edinburgh on a memorable occasion in that capital. The demonstration to took place on what then was a large unoccupied area, the Plains, immediately behind the Assembly and Queen’s Colleges, and which is vacant no longer. It has shared in the general prosperity of the city, and fine houses and streets now represent what at the time was waste and vacancy. A huge temporary building, with a frontage of about 250 feet and a depth of about 150 feet, was erected, with seating accommodation for many thousands. But huge as the building was, it did not accommodate more than a section of those attending; and three or four other platforms were provided, and meetings held round each. And all crowded with enthusiastic Loyalists wearing the Convention badge. But I question if a tithe of those present heard the speeches. They were demonstrating, and did not require even the most stimulating oratory to fan the flame of their enthusiasm. It was there before, and it remained after. As a triumph of organistion it was most wonderful. There were hundreds of willing stewards, and as far as possible provision was made for all. One feature of the major meeting was that special seats were provided for the delegates from each district, and as they trooped in to their places the cheers made the welkin ring as loud as cheers ever did.

The timber for the building had been provided by six timber merchants, and Mr. R. I. Calwell, who is doing so much volunteer architectural work in connection with the U.V.F. Hospitals of the city, had charge of the erection. Trains conveying delegates from all parts of the province began to arrive early, and followed each other in rapid succession, so that for the entire day the town, and especially the Southern end of it, was one mass of moving men and women, all animated by the one spirit and feeling, and all wearing colours and badges suggestive of the occasion. I may just mention that over three hundred meetings had been held in all parts of the province, and that about twelve thousand delegates were appointed; but it was not twelve thousand men, but twelve times twelve thousand men and women who poured in or through the town on this great day.

Precisely at noon, the Duke of Abercorn who had been selected as president of the meeting, followed by the principal speakers and leaders of the day and the movement, and took their places at the well-decorated platform, the cheering was intense for several minutes; and the hitherto restrained feelings of the vast assemblage broke forth in a burst of enthusiasm that once heard could not be forgotten either in its magnificent impressiveness or suggestiveness. After a special prayer by the Lord Primate, the Right Rev. Dr. Alexander, poet and orator, ecclesiastic and statesman, stately and dignified in appearance and sweet in disposition, the noble words of the first stanzas of the 46th Psalm, were read out by the Rev. Dr. N. M. Brown, Limavady, and sung to a noble and inspiring tune; and as ten thousand voices joined in the singing the effect can be better imagined than described. Strong and spirited and impressive the singing was, and it suggested the faith and hope and confidence the people had in the God of their fathers.

“God is our refuge and our strength,
In straits a present aid,”

was the keynote of the Psalm, the keynote of the song, the keynote of the praise and the prayer. There were nearly a hundred newspaper reporters from all parts of the kingdom present, and some of them, who had much experience of such proceedings, told me at the time that they had never heard anything more striking and impressive than the singing of that Psalm and the scene and the spirit of the occasion.

The Duke of Abercorn, the second Duke, and father of the present Duke, delivered a fine address, the keynote of which was, “We will not have Home Rule.” The phrase caught on, and was often used in the way of ridicule by opponents, who declared we would have to have it. That is now a quarter of a century ago, and we have not got it yet; and by a curious coincidence, while in Dublin the other day, I noticed on the contents board of one of the rabid Nationalist or Sinn Fein papers — I hardly know which it was, the words, “We will not have Home Rule,” put forward not by a Unionist, but by a rebel paper, and not put forward by way of ridicule, but as a serious statement.

The following were the resolutions passed at the time:— “That this Convention, consisting of 11,879 delegates, representing the Unionists of every creed, class, and party throughout Ulster, appointed at public meetings held in every electoral division of the province, hereby solemnly resolves and declares — That we express the devoted loyalty of Ulster Unionists to the Crown and Constitution of the United Kingdom; that we avow our fixed resolve to retain unchanged our present position as an integral portion of the United Kingdom, and protest in the most unequivocal mann ] against the passage of any measure that would rob us of our inheritance in the Imperial Parliament, under the protection of which our capital has been invested and our homes and rights safeguarded; that we record our determination to have nothing to do with a Parliament certain to be controlled by men responsible for the crime and outrage of the Land League, the dishonesty of the Plan of Campaign, and the cruelties of boycotting, many of whom have shown themselves the ready instruments of clerical domination; that we declare to the people of Great Britain our conviction that the attempt to set up such a Parliament in Ireland will inevitably result in disorder, violence, and bloodshed such as have not been experienced in this century, and announce our resolve to take no part in the election or proceedings of such a Parliament, the authority of which, should it ever be constituted, we shall be forced to repudiate; that we protest against this great question, which involves our lives, property, and civil rights, being treated as a mere side issue in the impending electoral struggle; that we appeal to those of our fellow-countrymen who have hitherto been in favour of a separate Parliament to abandon a demand which hopelessly divides Irishmen, and to unite with us under the Imperial Legislation in developing the resources and furthering the beat interests of our common country.”

These resolutions were on similiar lines to those that might he passed to-day, for the cry of “No Home Rule for Ulster” is as strong as it ever was, though in their loyal desire to assist the Government out of a difficulty Ulster Unionists have expressed a regretful willingness to limit their exclusion to the six Plantation counties.

It would be interesting to recall the names of the principal speakers, the majority of whom have passed away, but some are still with us and still honoured, as they were then. At the principal meeting the speakers were Sir W. Q. Ewart, Mr. Thomas Sinclair {afterwards Right Hon.), Rev. Oliver M‘Cutcheon, President Methodist College; Mr. Thomas Andrews (afterwards Right Hon.), Rev. James Cregan (Congregational), Rev. Dr. R. J. Lynd, the Rev. Dr. Kane, Mr. J. F. Shillington (of Musgrave & Co., Ltd.), Mr. E. T. Herdman, Sion Mills; Mr. John D. Dunville, Mr. W. J. Doloughan, a Down tenant farmer; Dr. Ussher (Baptist), Captain Sharman-Crawford, and Sir Daniel Dixon (Lord Mayor of Belfast). At No. 1 platform the Lord Mayor presided, and among the speakers were Mr. J. N. Richardson, Mr. T. W. Russell, M.P.; Lord Frederick Hamilton, Captain (afterwards Colonel) M'Calmont, and the Rev. W. J. M'Caughan; No. 2 platform — Mr. Wm. Johnston, M.P.; the Dean of Connor (Seaver), Mr. T. Lea, M.P.; Rev. J. J. M'Clure (now of Capetown), Mr. J. A. Rentoul, M.P.; Mr. J. Walker Craig (now Recorder of Belfast), and Mr. John Ross (now Mr. Justice Ross); No. 3 platform — Mr. Jas. Musgrave, D.L.; Mr. Arnold-Forster (Unionist candidate for West Belfast), Lord Rossmore, Mr. G. W. Wolff, M.P.; Colonel Waring, Mr. W. B. Macartney (now Governor of Tasmania).

The demonstration was not only unique in its local and representative character, but in the extent of the sympathy extended to it by Unionists from all parts of the kingdom. Many of these organisations sent representatives, and over one hundred sent telegrams of good wishes. All classes were represented not only at the meetings, but on the platform, where great peers, great landlords, great commercial and industrial magnates, ministers of all denominations, and representatives of the farming and working classes met, all animated by the same spirit and stimulated by the same determination. The effect in Belfast and the province generally was immense; but the effect throughout the kingdom was, if possible, greater. The Press of the kingdom was represented by nearly one hundred journalists, and some of them by the ablest member's of their staff. The papers had all descriptions and articles, so that for a week at any rate Ulster may be said to have held the field; and I am proud to say that the majority of the journals that stood up for Ulster stand up for it still, and that their comments on the situation to-day are on similar lines to those of twenty-five years ago, with this difference, that the events of the interval have emphasised all their arguments.

The Convention marked an epoch in Ulster, and the spirit and determination it expressed holds good to-day. The mere fact that the Ulster Unionists have assented as a compromise to accept the exclusion of six counties does not militate against the old declaration of hostility to Home Rule for any part of Ireland. They are still opposed to that, and believe that it would produce evils even greater than some they feared at that time. The hostility to Home Rule that then found its first great expression still remains. So that whatever changes may have come over the spirit of others, Ulster Unionists still remain as strong opponents of the principle as ever, and on the merits, or rather demerits, of Home Rule the reasons for hostility are even stronger.



From The Witness, 27th April 1917.

The "Man in the Street" was the pen name of Alexander McMonagle, editor and manager of The Witness and Ulster Echo.

Fifty Years of Belfast Life (1866-1917) part 41

By “THE MAN IN THE STREET.”

XLI

If the riots of ’86 were a revelation of savagery and brutality on the part of the people and, I will add, of many of the police, the Riots Commission that inquired into them was a revelation of partiality and whitewashing of one section of the population on the part of the majority of the Commission. If the riots had, as I fear they had, both a religious and a political basis, the Commission had a religious and political bias. The riots had broken out while Mr. Gladstone was in office and Mr. Morley was Chief Secretary for Ireland, and were chiefly the outcome of their policy. But they continued at intervals during the general election that followed his defeat, and after Lord Salisbury had come into office, with Sir Michael Hicks Beach as his Irish Secretary, and the Government had trouble in the South as well as in Belfast. In fact, moonlighting and murder were the order of the night and day. But Mr. Sexton was then member for West Belfast, and he kept hammering away at Belfast as if it were the one black spot in Ireland, and his clamouring resulted in the appointment of a Commission, the Government of that day, as, indeed, all Governments since, finding it safer to placate the Nationalists and silence their clamourings by yielding to them. The Commission at first consisted of Mr. Justice Day, an Irish Roman Catholic Judge, and Mr. Richard Adams, an Irish Roman Catholic barrister. Nationalist, and ex-leader-writer for the “Freeman’s Journal” at a time when it represented something of party and power in the country, and a couple of cyphers. I use the word cyphers not in any disrespect to themselves, but in regard to their comparative helplessness in a legal inquiry of which these legal gentlemen figured. They were General Bulwer and Mr. F. Le Poer Trench, Q.C. After a time Mr. M‘Hardy, Chief Constable of Lancashire, who had police experience in that county, and a character for capacity and impartiality, was added to the Commission. From the composition of the Commission, or rather from the character of its head and its right hand, the Protestants had little hope of justice or fair play from it, but they gave a sigh of relief when they heard that one strong and independent man had been appointed upon it. And I may just say that the one strong, independent mail refused to sign the report of the other Commissioners and issued an independent one of his own. But of that anon. The secretary of the Commission was a Roman Catholic barrister from the Munster Circuit.

The Commission commenced its sittings on 4th October. Its members had attended some time before, but as rioting was still going on it was thought advisable to postpone the inquiry till the restoration of peace. There was a large Bar. Mr. James H. Campbell, the present Lord Chief Justice, then without silk, and Dr. Hans M'Mordie appeared for the Loyalist Defence Association; Mr. James Orr, Q.C., the present Co. Court Judge of Down, for the Town Council; Mr. T. L. O’Shaughnessy and Mr. J. B. M’Hugh for the Nationalists; Mr. Isaac Weir, Q.C., afterwards County Court Judge, for the Orange Institution; Mr. J. J. Shaw for an independent  local ratepayer (advised by Mr. J. C. White). I should mention that the Nationalists, though Mr. Sexton, member for West Belfast, who was much in evidence at this time, made a feint of pretesting against Mr. Justice Day as the head of the Commission. And of this I am sure, that if the Nationalists had any doubts about the Judge;s partiality towards and consideration for the Nationalists, or, at any rate, the Roman Catholics, they were removed before the days of the Commission were far spent. All that was known of Mr. Justice Day was that he was a strong Judge and a strong Roman Catholic; and if the object of a strong Judge was to get his own way, and the duty of a Roman Catholic to do the best fior his Church, Mr. Justice Day was a very strong Judge indeed. The other legal Commissioner wa Mr. Richard Adams, whom I knew intimatley in my Dublin days, and who was one of the best humorists that Ireland produced. He had been a leader writer for the “Freeman,” and was brilliant at that; but his love of humour and jest was even greater than his love of law or learning, though he had high claims to both. I am sure his presence on this Commission was one of the greatest jokes of his life, and no man enjoyed the humour of it better than he. Though I doubt if he held any strong convictions on politics or anything else, he knew better than most men how to play the game of politics, and he played it well. I often smiled at the twinkle of his eye as he relieved himself of some grave comment of humorous joke during the proceedings/ If Mr. Justice Day was a devotee, Mr. Adams was anything but that; and I am sure he must often have smiled at his superior’s religious gravity. But he knew well how to play up him, and he did. The other members of Commission were Protestants; but they were not Protestants after the assertive and aggressive manner of the chief, and did not use Protestant spectacles as often as he used Roman Catholic spectacles.

When the Commission opened, he laid down the rule that the Commission, would recognise no parties or individuals before them. When the various counsel put in a claim to be heard, including Mr. O’Shaughnessy, who said he represented the Roman Catholic bishop, which he, perhaps thought would have a mollifying effect, the President gave them very short shrift; and at the end of a short argument they all retired save Mr. Weir, who represented the police. This action of the President created dissatisfaction on all sides, and strong representations were made to the Chief Secretary, with the result that in a few days the counsel were allowed to appear, but were received anything but graciously by the President, at any rate so far as they represented the Protestants.

The inquiry last nearly three weeks, and over one hundred witnesses were examined, including police officers and men, military officers, magistrates — stipendiary and local, the Mayor (Sir E. J. Harland), and the Town Clerk (Mr. Samuel Black), and all sorts of men; and some who were victims of attack, and some who were responsible for attacks — but, of course, in the execution of their duty. It transpired during the inquiry that three or four hundred policemen and a large number of soldiers and civilians were injured and several deaths, and that the value of property destroyed was about £290,000. It transpired certainly that there was a limitless destroying of property; that stoning and looting, rioting and shooting were general, and in all cases reckless by the people, and in many cases reckless by the police. It transpired that there was a great want of leadership among the authorities, and that the Resident Magistrates blamed the local magistrates, and the local magistrates blamed the Resident Magistrates. But it is only fair to say that so far as the R.M.'s were concerned, most of the criticism was directed against Colonel Forbes, the Protestant magistrate, and not Mr. M'Carthy, the Resident Magistrate. Though Colonel Forbes was offensive in his evidence with regard both to magistrates and Protestant clergymen, he was specially so in regard to the Rev. Hugh Hanna; but in justice to the clergyman I must say he gave as good as he got. Not a little of the evidence was directed against Dr. Hanna and Dr. Kane, and some of the police witnesses even went so far as to make insinuations against the Rev. Dr. Johnston, who had interfered in the interest of peace. To anyone who remembers Dr. Johnston the baselessness of such an insinuation is obvious; but I only mention it to show the trend of some of the official evidence at the time. There were three Protestant, or, as they were termed, Orange leaders who came in for much criticism. These were the Rev. Dr. Hanna, the Rev. Dr. Kane, and Mr. Cobain, M.P. As regards the last named, I will only say that I thought very little either of his character or judgment at the time, and much less since, and I had no sympathy at the time with much that he said and did. With regard to Dr. Hanna and Dr. Kane, they belonged to the militant school of ecclesiastics — Sir Andrew Reid, the Inspector-General, or some one at the time, represented Dr. Hanna as a combination of Julius Caesar and the Apostle Paul — and it is quite possible they may not on all points have exhibited Christian meekness or a disposition to turn the other cheek on account of the treatment they had seen meted out to Protestants by many of the police. As I indicated previously, I did not adopt the cry of “Morley’s murderers” as applicable to the police, or adopt the suggestion that they had been sent from the South on Mr Morley’s order to shoot down the Protestants of Belfast. I had no doubt personally at the time that such a statement was both improbable and untrue, and did not need the official denial of Sir Andrew Reid, the Inspector-General, who, however, made it at the inquiry to confirm my belief. But, as a matter of fact, and no doubt of necessity, a good many Southern police were sent into Belfast. And when they came, they did not hesitate to shoot. In his evidence at the Commission the Rev. Dr. Johnston swore that he had seen half a dozen of them, who had been doing considerable sniping before, keep on firing along a street and at houses after everyone had fled from the street.

My own idea of their action, founded on my Southern experience of the opinion that in my time there prevailed in the South about the Orangemen of the North and among the classes from which police would have been selected. The popular idea then was that the Orangemen of the North were huge giants, who went up and down stoning or bludgeoning every Roman Catholic that came into their path. And when these sons of the South got to Belfast, and the chance of giving the Orangemen something in return, they did not hesitate to make the beet of the opportunity. And much of it may have been due to panic as well as the lack of co-ordination that existed among the authorities, for at times, from all I heard before and from all I heard at the inquiry, it was difficult to know with whom the authority rested. While I believe there was a little of both considerations I have mentioned as influencing individuals or squads, I did not, and could not, believe that their action was as bad as it was represented at the time, and that if there was panic on the part of some police, there was also panic on the part of some of the people. I have had intimate association with the police North and South for nearly half a century, and whether from the North or South I am bound to confess that they have, in the main, done their duty to Crown and country with great courage and impartiality, and under great stress and difficulty and danger. And while, perhaps, I could not agree with all the official white-washing they received from the Commission, I am confident that in the general they may not have acted as outrageously as the Protestants at the time thought. But I would be a traitor to truth if I did not say that many of them acted rudely and roughly, and even outrageously. The feeling against them, as was proved at the inquiry, was very strong; and I have no doubt that that feeling did much to prolong the riots and add to the bitterness on the part of the populace as well as the police. There was one striking incident of this. At one time the feeling on the Shankill Road was almost uncontrollable, and it was against the police and not against the military, or, to be more strictly accurate, against the Southern police; and the Rev. Dr. Johnston made an earnest authorities to withdraw the police from the road altogether. This was done for several days, and the military were left in charge and I must admit that, though the riots did not end, the fury of them lessened far the time.

The Commissioners’ report was published in January of ’87 — the Commission sat in October, ’86. It created a good deal of stir and a good deal of interest and a good deal of ridicule. When the great Dr. Johnson was replying in the House of Commons he said he took care that the Whig dogs would not have the best of it. The Commission, in their report, took care that the Protestant dogs would not have the best of it. At any rate that is the impression I retain of it. The Nationalists and their priests were largely represented as innocent and pacific lambs, and the Protestants, lay and clerical, as something, quite different. One of the pointed references is that while twenty-eight Roman Catholic public-houses were wrecked, only two Protestant public-houses were wrecked, by way of suggesting the moderation of the Roman Catholic rioters as compared with the Protestants. But as a matter of fact, I question if there were twenty-eight public-houses in the entire area or even in the entire area owned by Protestants, so that the small number of such houses wrecked did not suggest a sparing of Protestant by Roman Catholic and a systematic attack of Roman Catholics by Protestants. And I suspect love of loot and liquor had much to do with the destruction of these houses. The Commissioners made many suggestions as to the police and the magistrates; but I cannot say how many of them were carried out. So far as the constabulary are concerned, they are still under a Commissioner, but there has been no conflict worthy the name between them and the public since. There was a time when many of us thought the police might have done more than they did at the early stage of the labour troubles; but at that time politics came in, and the the police had to act under orders. Neither is there any change in the magistracy. We have still two Resident Magistrates, and any number of borough magistrates; in fact, they seem almost to be without limit. It was alleged by Colonel Forbes during the Commission that the magistrates attended cases of party, and acted in the interest of the party, with a special shot at the Protestant magistrates. I do not know how far that has changed since. But I have heard again and again that whether magistrates attend now in the interests of party they sometimes attend in the interests of publicans, so that it is almost as difficult for the police to get convictions against a publican as it would be to get the National Anthem sung at a Nationalist meeting. However, for my part I am done with ’86 and its riots, and hope done with rioting for ever so far as Belfast is concerned. Its one object now is to get on with the war and work for the war, and its object in the past has been to get on with industry and unity in the only sense in which both are possible. I only recall these memories as a matter of history, and in one respect a painful history, but one suggestiveness of a partisanship which, under certain auspices, has never changed.



To be continued...


From The Witness, 20th April 1917.

The "Man in the Street" was the pen name of Alexander McMonagle, editor and manager of The Witness and Ulster Echo.