Stirring
Tales From Dunfanaghy Long Ago and The
The
area has as stated, a tradition for story telling, many with numerous
overtones, others dealing with more tragic circumstances. It would be impossible to recount either of
these in a full chronological way so the following incidences are given in a
random fashion.
Stewarts
of Ards
The
landlords, as a race, have been quite rightly condemned for some of their
actions. However they also did many good
things, and in Doe, the Stewarts were responsible for building Lime Kilns,
Scutch Mills, the Corcreggan Mills for grinding meal and the Market House in
Dunfanaghy, thus establishing a market place for produce in 1844.
Lady
Mary, daughter of the Marquis of
James
Collins
James
Collins, the cowman had a cow, which he called Lady Mary. The family feared that Lady Mary Stewart
would hear of this, as inevitably she did.
They were pleasantly surprised when Lady Mary paid them a visit to see
the cow, being highly delighted that the Collins children had thought so highly
of her as to name their favourite cow after her.
The
same James Collins, who then lived in Row’s Road, Ards, was involved in Ghost
Story of Doe castle. There, people
reported seeing a ghost in a field off the road at night. Collins, unlike others, decided to
investigate and one night when the ghost appeared, he jumped over a high wall,
ran up a field and caught the ghost. The
ghost was a woman who used to wrap herself up in white sheets to scare people
away while her sons would steal turnips!
Red
Connor
There
was the sadder tale of a Horn Head Rustler called Conchubhair Rua, Red
Connor. He carried out cattle raids as
far south as the
Wilkinson of Ballymore
During
the times of the Penal laws a priest was being chased by the redcoats. He sought refuge with a Protestant family in
Ballymore, called Wilkinson. Wilkinson
had him in a loft. He put him in a
barrel which was used for storing oatmeal and which had a stone cover. The house was searched and one of the
redcoats actually put his hand on the stone covering but did not remove it. When the priest emerged, after the soldiers
had gone, he gave Wilkinson his blessing and told him his people would never be
in want.
As
long as that family was extant, they never were. Old John Wilkinson a descendant of the above
used to say that he had plenty of money.
“It’s the priests I have to thank for it,” he would say.
Why
the tithes were never again collected in Doe.
In
the late 1830’s the payment of tithes to the established church was much
resented. Here in Doe it was decided to
banish the collector from the area. In
preparation the farmers took all their animals to the hills and prepared to
resist the seizures of grain. At a place
called Lurgamhullaign just off the present
Meanwhile,
Neddy and some of his colleagues from the upper end of the Parish were arrested
and taken to Dunfanaghy and remanded to Lifford. They were shackled together on a frosty night
and made to walk the whole way.
Gallagher was sentenced to five years imprisonment. His wife walked to Lifford to visit him, a
distance of over 30 miles.
After
six months the prisoners were released, probably because o f the conciliation
that had continued on a higher level.
Niall Mac Giolla Bhride wrote a poem entitled “Charlie of Feymore”:
“And
when the daring Doe men to Dunfanaghy did go,
To
drive the tithe collector
The
soldiers stood with bayonets screwed but through the ranks they tore,
And
foremost in the fight that day was Charlie of Feymore”.
Big
Neddy Gallagher
Big
Neddy Gallagher, after his release had the audacity to apply to Stuart for a
farm when the latter decided to break up the estate into holdings, converting
it from a sheep ranch to tenant farming.
Stuart looked at him in some amazement, walked the length of the hall,
looked at him again and said, “Yes, I’ll give you a farm. It’s men like you that I need to break in the
mountains.” That’s how Big Neddy
Gallagher transferred from Casey to Horn Head.
Charlie
of Feymore
Charlie
Collins of Feymore was a famous man in the parish because of his many feats; he
once rescued one of the Stewarts of Ards from drowning. Niall Mac Giolla Bhride wrote:
When
Mr Stewart’s pleasure boat in the bay did capsize
A
crowd assembled on the beach attracted by the cries,
None
ventured to the rescue on the bombast beaten shore,
Till
bounding over field and fence came Charlie of Feymore,
And
as he ran his clothes he cast about on every side,
And
with a prayer upon his lips he plunged into the tide.
Pale
death was grimly waiting on the breakers of Tramore,
When
the boat was overtaken by Charlie of Feymore.”
And
in another part of the poem it says about Charlie:
“When
he a smuggler hot pursued was hemmed on every side,
Before
him lay the ocean road extending far and wide,
He
plunged into the foaming tide, the poteen jar he bore,
From
Creevy to
Neil and Johnny Coll
In
the 1870’s an Irish dancing school was held in a barn near Faugher House, there
Robbie Algeo of Rockhill was one of the pupils and became a well-known step
dancer. He died in 1949 in his 92nd
year.
The
dancing master of the school was Neill Coll of Derryhorril, the fee was 1/- a
week, 6d for girls and all paid half a penny a week for candles. On Saturday nights the class would take the
form of a coill mhor and the Duck Street Boys from Cashelmore would attend.
There
was the case of the boy, unwilling to pay 1/- who tried to learn the steps by
peeping through the keyhole! Neill Coll also taught dancing in Derryhorrill and
Horn Head and some of the steps he taught still survive. His hornpipes and jigs had 12 stops, one of
them called “The Crabs Walk”, another “The Pigeons wing”, still others,
“The
Buachaill Forward”, “The J.C.of the hornpipe” and “Twisting Forward”.
Robbie
was still able to execute the steps into his 80’s.
Neill
Coll had a son called Johnny who was a noted fiddler and he taught the fiddle
to many of the young men in the parish.
When he died some of his past pupils bought him a wreath to place on his
grave in Doe.
Andrew
MacIntyre another noted fiddler and the poet already mentioned paid a poetic
tribute to him which is attached to the wreath.
It went
“Here’s
from one who strove to drink
From
the sweet founds you shed
With
tender care this votive verse
On
thy lone grave is laid
But
if midst all through cold neglect
Remembrance
should pall,
I
weave this chapel to enshrine
Your
memory, Johnny Coll.”
Sam Moffitt
Another
character in the parish was Sam Moffit of Ballymore, a man with a keen sense of
humour, a good reciter and fiddler. The
stories of Sam are legend. On one
occasion Andrew MacIntyre and his brother Johnny had quarried a huge flat stone
in Ballymore and carted it to the house, placing it at the entrance with
crowbars and branches used as rollers.
They were having some difficulty getting it into place when Sam came up the
lane in his horse and cart and started talking to the 2 brothers who were
toiling mightily with the rock.
Eventually exasperated, Johnny said to Sam “It’s a wonder you wouldn’t
get down off that there cart and give us a hand”, to which Sam in his famous
slow drawl replied, “I will not Johnny – I believe in leaving this world the
way I found it.” Sam was way before his
time in advocating conversation.
Once someone said to Sam, “Wouldn’t it be
a terrible thing to be hanged in the wrong?”
Sam replied, “Wouldn’t it be far worse to
be hanged in the right.”
The kind of remark for which he became
famous.
He
wrote a poem called “The hunting of a Deer”, a theme he used to include many of
his neighbours and friends and imitating their sayings and habits. It was very long, very funny and probably not
a little hurtful because in later years he was reluctant to recite it. It began:
“It happened on a summer’s day,
I think it was the month of May,
Some brave men, as you shall hear,
Were bound for Ards to the deer.”
He was also the first man to wheel a turf
barrow to the top of
He once left a drill of potatoes up the
middle of one of his fields and told people that he didn’t dig it so that
people would talk about it and he added that if he did that they were leaving
others alone.
Sam
in his youth was a fine looking man and he was a member of the R.T.C. for a
number of years. He was chosen as a
member of the Guard of Honour for Queen
He
did a lot of raking particularly at night.
When people told him he was calling too late he would quote Thomas
Moore:
“They
say the best way to lengthen your day is to steal a few hours from the night,
my dear.”
Anton
Mac A Bhaird
Anton
Mac A Bhaird of Crucknafafarragh was another man of great wit and a way with
words in both languages. He once told
the story of a widow woman who was once brought before the republican courts
for some kind of debt. One of the judges
was a local priest. As Anton put it
later, “There she was a poor widow woman, and there was the priest instead of
trying to help her he was helping to try her”.
He
once said he would believe in the
Rabbit Knowe
Corn
Harmless
pranks were carried out all the time by the younger men of the parish, one of
them, during one moonlit harvest night in September. A group of men spotted that the
Weddings
Weddings
in the 1880’s were big events and included a whole day of drinking, eating,
sports, horse riding, singing and dancing.
One wedding, for instance, in Muroe had all these events and to which
several of the people from Balltmoe-Faugher locality were invited.
On
that day when the celebrations were over, Tesha Collins of Ballymore was
acclaimed the best singer. Dominic
O’Donnell the best step dancer and Alex Moffitt best horseman.
Charlie
Collins was brother of James Collins, the cowman already referred to in these
notes, and great grandfather of Mary Ellen Collins. Mc Bride of Feymore still resides in the
homeplace.1886.
Susie
Shields lived 90 years ago. She lived in a cave at Breaghy, today called
Susie’s cave, on the farm of Stanley Stewart.
It was said that she lived there in a spirit of Penance but she was
prevailed upon by the priest to leave when neighbours built her a house at Parkmore. There are still some remains at the
house.
There
was a Donald Shields in Breaghy, probably a relation of Susie’s, living in the
vicinity of the Coll Farm. On one
occasion he had gone to
Neill Mc Bride
Neill
Mc Bride or Niall Mac Giolla Bhride as he is now best known lived in the town
Charlie of Feymore
By
Neill Mc Bride
Of
Two inches more than 50 was he measured round the chest.
Being tall and straight and fleet by foot, they called him
Charlie Mor
In fact a modern Finn Mc Cool was Charlie of Feymore
And yet
he was of manners mild and spirit light and free.
With
features comely as a child, a sunny heart had he.
And no
one lighter led the dance from Muckish to the shore.
The
soul of mirth and music sweet was Charlie of Feymore
When Mr Stewart’s pleasure boat did in the bay capsize,
A crowd assembled on the beach attracted by the cries.
None ventured to the rescue from that tempest beaten
shore,
Till bounding over field and fence came Charlie of
Feymore,
And as he ran his clothes he cast about on every side,
And with a prayer upon his lips he plunged into the tide.
Pale death was grimly waiting on the breakers of Tramore,
When the boat was overtaken by Charlie of Feymore.
And when his lordship’s butler his challenge sent around,
To leap a gate and lay a bet of one and seven pounds,
There stood the gate with pointed spikes, full six feet
high and more,
But the first and last to jump the gate was Charlie of
Feymore
And when the daring Doe men to Dunfanaghy did go,
To drive the debt collector, Moore, forever out of Doe,
The police stood by with bayonets, but through their ranks
he tore,
For foremost in the fight that day was Charlie of Feymore.
When he a smuggler hot pursued was hemmed on every side,
Before him lay the ocean road extending far and wide,
He plunged into the foaming tide, the poteen jar he bore,
From Creevy to