History of Newry Workhouse: Wm Alexander Davis

Work house Building

No relief from poverty in Ireland existed before the 1840s, when 106 Poor Law Unions were established throughout Ireland. Newry Union, one of the largest and covering an area roughly equivalent to that of Newry and Mourne Council, provided indoor relief for 1,000 paupers. The Clerk of the Union and the Master who worked under him were expected to minimise the charge on the rates by making conditions within as harsh and uninviting as possible. The evicted, orphans, the homeless, the ill and infirm and the handicapped who reluctantly became inmates might, if they were fortunate, find in the Union’s medical officer a sympathetic advocate and friend. It rarely happened.

William Alexander Davis was the first medical officer appointed to serve in Newry Union Workhouse, newly opened in 1841. In addition to his poorly-rewarded duties there, he served as doctor to the townspeople. He resided in the town centre, first at 4 Sugar Island and later at Barrack Street. A member of the Church of Ireland community (he is buried in the COI cemetery) he was acclaimed and highly respected by everyone, regardless of religion.  A very moving tribute was paid on his demise by the then Editor of the Newry Reporter (see NR 13 Nov 1877).

Although medical officers in many other Unions disdained their charges and spent as little time as possible in the Workhouse, Davis from the outset distinguished himself as a very able, dedicated and committed champion of the poor.  The Minutes of the Boards of Guardians, especially for the first decade of their existence while famine raged and while he first served in this post, are interspersed with his anxious but strongly argued solicitations on the part of the pauper inmates.  He had no power to demand the minimal requirements he considered necessary for the inmates’ needs and indeed for their very survival.  Although the Board of Guardians was strongly opposed to recommendations that required increased spending, Davis nevertheless fearlessly argued their case, and not only in his primary medical field but he demanded also better food, clothing and other facilities for those in his care.

While carrying out his Workhouse duties he contracted a serious infectious disease, but he insisted that at the earliest opportunity he return to minister to the paupers.  He served a further twenty-eight years as Workhouse doctor, enhancing his reputation as chief spokesman of the voiceless and dispossessed. It is a measure of the huge esteem in which he was held that even the parsimonious Board, ever the object of his unceasing demands on behalf of the poor, paid tribute to his dedication, acclaiming

‘..we have never heard a complaint against him for neglect of duty, but know him to be a favourite with the paupers for his kind humour and attentive conduct..’

We believe that Davis, in his own way and time, did as much for the poor, dispossessed and destitute of South Armagh, Newry and Mourne as in the early twentieth century, that other great Irishman of Newry roots, Big Jim Larkin, did for the working class people of these islands.

Since Davis’s term of office coincided with the most terrible period of Ireland’s history, the Great Famine, when up to a million died of disease and starvation, his labours on behalf of the poor and homeless of Newry and district were both timely and vital, and should never be forgotten.

He continued to serve throughout the traumatic post-Famine, land-clearance and mass emigration (much of it ‘forced’) period.

It is the strong opinion of the Newry Journal that our new Social Security Office ought to be named and dedicated in his honour.

 

{P.S. This didn’t happen.  Phoenix House being preferred. ]

 

“Workhouse Nurse” is here …

History of Newry Workhouse : Part 1

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NEWRY WORKHOUSE IN THE CONTEXT OF POOR RELIEF IN IRELAND AND ENGLAND

By

John McCullagh B.A.  B.Sc.



This present work argues the thesis that similar nineteenth and twentieth century Poor Law provisions were much more stringently applied in Ireland than in England.

To set this in context we must first compare earlier poor law provision in England and Wales with that in Ireland.

1. England

In England  pauperism and vagrancy worried government authorities for two centuries before a Workhouse network was established over these islands in the mid-nineteenth century.  The first Poor Law dates to 1601 in Elizabeth ‘s reign.  The 1722 Workhouse Act in England extended an earlier system under parochial authority centred on towns.  Churchwardens and overseers offered admittance and people who declined to enter the workhouse could be refused relief.  This became the Workhouse Test of the next two centuries and the rationale behind the refusal of ‘outdoor relief’.  Sometimes the workhouse’s operation was let to a contractor whose increased stringency of administration led to a substantial reduction in the poor-rates, but as Archdeacon Cunningham said, ‘at what expense of suffering we’ll never know’.  The same holds true of the 1820s Southwell parish system administered by George Nicholls – for his efforts, soon to be raised to the status of Poor Law Commissioner.

2. Ireland

No poor law provision at government level existed in Ireland before 1838 and little enough at parish level.  Ireland of the eighteenth century was labouring under the Penal Laws which systematically suppressed the Catholic faith and that great majority of Ireland ‘s people who practiced it.  Land was seized and redistributed to English government favourites and soldiers who had served to suppress the Irish people.  The fraction of Irish land held by the Irish fell as shown in the table below :

Irish land ownership

1603

1641

1688

1703

1778

% held by Irish

90%

60%

20%

15%

5%

Towards the century’s end the Penal Laws began to be somewhat relaxed.  By a Relief Act of 1782 Catholics were again permitted to buy land, but the percentage held by them was little altered by the mid-nineteenth century.  The greater part of Irish land was owned by absentees whose affairs were administered by agents.  It was their job – and most went about it with crusading fervour – to maximise the rents that could be extracted from these lands.  The Irish became largely tenant farmers, or landless cottiers squatting on land offering their labour as part payment of rent.

As population increased, peasant tenants had no alternative but to sub-divide their small plots, using the best parcel of land on which to grow the ‘rent crop’ and surviving on what was left, growing whatever crop might give the maximum nutritional yield.  This was the potato, reputedly introduced to Europe from America by Walter Raleigh a century and a half before.  With little rotation of crops or access to manure to increase yield, it was merely a matter of time before disaster struck.

There were many years of potato crop failure before the mid-nineteenth century, but the English government took little notice and few measures to avert the inevitable.

On the other hand, they removed whatever small protection had been offered to native Irish industry by the short-lived Dublin Parliament of the previous century.  In 1824 the last tariffs that had protected Irish manufacturers were removed.  There were natural and innovative advances that favoured the larger island and further caused the partial collapse of Irish manufacture.  For example, English supplies of coal and iron allowed the building of steam-powered factories, manufacturing cotton and woollen cloth that could be supplied to the Irish market at cheaper than home-made produce.  This was encouraged despite the Union, theoretically putting the islands on equal standing.

New steam ships permitting the export of live cattle to England adversely affected Ireland ‘s meat processing industry.  Many Irish factories closed down and ‘cottage industry’, where people once earned a little from spinning or weaving at home, became obsolete.  All this dramatically increased the numbers of very poor in Ireland.

The 1836 Royal Enquiry into Irish poverty – ordered by Government and designed as a preamble to the introduction of the Workhouse system to Ireland – found that there were no jobs for the ‘able-bodied’ poor to take, and recommended public works relief schemes in place of Workhouses designed to deter the work-shy.  These recommendations were ignored.

Because of all this many people – including the present author – indict the Government for culpability over the Great Famine’s effects.  The blight virus that devastated the potato crop would always have brought great hardship and hunger, even in England had similar circumstances prevailed there.   But few now (or then) doubt that the Imperial Government would never have allowed famine – with consequent mass deaths through starvation and disease –  to reign as a result.   Most assuredly the English government would have halted (or severely limited) the export of the other products of English farms and diverted the bulk towards the relief of the worst distress. Such a solution in Ireland would have saved hundreds of thousands of lives. Though technically (under the 1801 Act of Union) at one and equal with England, this solution for Ireland was callously rejected  (see later).

England : Earlier population increase and workhouse and ‘outdoor’ relief

The huge growth in population of both islands was a not insignificant factor in the spread of great poverty.  The population of England and Wales almost trebled from five to thirteen millions between 1700 and 1831.  By 1901 it more than doubled again to twenty-nine millions.  Demographic shifts have complex causes that in general are poorly understood.  Still we believe in regard to that population increase that a significant decline in mortality rates – possibly due to improved public hygiene and diet – was largely responsible.

The increase of population led to a greater demand for food, and prices rose while wages remained stationary.  Uncertain employment conditions and widespread distress of the working classes led to Gilbert’s Act 1782.  Under this, Justices of the Peace paid Guardians to give poor relief in amalgamated parishes. Guardians were expected to find suitable work for the able-bodied and they were empowered to supplement wages so earned from the poor fund.  Justices and Guardians were authorised to grant outdoor relief.  Only the aged, sick, infirm and pauper children were to be sent to the workhouse.

In effect outdoor relief in England became available from then.  The Act was widely adopted. T he ‘principle’ of no outdoor relief to the able-bodied had been breached.

The distress of the labouring classes in England continued and intensified.  In 1795 at Speedhamland in Berkshire the local Justices, though resolving it inexpedient to make a general assessment of wages under the Statute of Artificers [in other words, to state that a higher and fairer wage should be paid to labourers] still exhorted farmers to pay higher wages.  However under their powers they did grant allowances to supplement the wages of the needy poor.  The amount of the allowance was to vary with the price of bread and the size of the labourer’s family. I t was, in other words, means-tested.

A few months later an Act of Parliament extended this power to Justices all over England and Wales.  This allowance system remained the outstanding feature of Poor Law administration for the next forty years.  Outdoor relief was sometimes granted in the larger island without labour being required.  Rarely, direct labour was provided by parish authorities and less frequently, some wealthy ratepayers would each employ a number of paupers at settled rates of wages.

The allowance system granted instant relief to the poorest in danger of starvation.  This was vital at a time when England was waging a long war with Napoleonic France.

In time however the ruling classes came to rue the practical abolition of the Workhouse Test, the widespread granting of outdoor relief, the granting of relief to those in work in aid of wages, and the extensive discretionary powers granted to magistrates at local relief level.  These were the areas the government especially wanted addressed in the revised Poor Law Act of 1834.

It was felt that under the allowance system, labourers had ceased to look upon the receipt of poor relief as a stigma but more as a right.  The poorest, it was believed, were encouraged by it to enter into early and improvident marriages, secure in the knowledge that their children would be supported by the parish.  Many thought, with Thomas Malthus (chief architect with Adam Smith of the doctrine of political economy and the economics of laisser-faire that inspired British politicians and governments of the time) that poverty was a result of population increase.  Indolence, drunkenness and other vices were believed to be encouraged by relief measures.


Ireland: greater population density, more distress but less poor relief

The latter vices were freely and frequently attributed to the Irish poor although no Poor Law or state relief of any kind had applied here before 1838 – so that these assumed vices could not be the result of over-indulgence of government in the relief of Irish distress.  Ireland ‘s population also experienced a huge increase up until the mid-nineteenth century, returned at over eight millions in the 1841 Census.

Some commentators speculated that this constituted merely a conservative estimate; that the enumerators, especially in the congested western seaboard districts were unlikely to have diligently visited every isolated hillside cabin.  Yet in sharp contrast with England and Wales – with which, by a combination of bribery, corruption and repression it had been united since 1801 – Ireland ‘s population declined steeply in the later nineteenth century almost halving by its end.

The major cause of Ireland ‘s population decline was the Great Famine – which was no famine in the dictionary sense since only a single crop, the potato, failed.  This affected the survival only of the poorest of society and touched others mainly through the transmission from the poorest of disease, the cause of most deaths.  Yet economic circumstances beyond their control had forced some 30% of the population into that category. This was the figure of the government’s own Royal Commission Report of 1836.

One and a half million people were lost to the Irish nation in five years through disease, starvation and emigration.  Under the Act already alluded to they were technically citizens equal under the law with all other Britons of the most extensive and most prosperous Empire that the world had ever seen.  There were sporadic but recurrent potato failures before and after ‘The Famine’ which caused great suffering and hunger.  The ultimate cause was the iniquitous economic system imposed on Ireland.  This was underscored by landlord-favouring laws and policies designed to ‘clear’ estates at the Irish ratepayers’ expense.  A post-Famine ‘clearing’ of ‘congested districts’ brought in its wake a deep loss of faith in landholding, leading to a century-long flight from the land.

It was most unfortunate that our population was at its highest when this disaster struck (blight was, decades later, identified as a viral disease).  It could be argued however that it was fortuitous that circumstances in England at the time required a major revision of Poor Law provisions. T hough these provisions were intended to be more draconian than before, and to severely restrict those applying for relief by making the internal regime of the Workhouse as disagreeable as possible, the effect was to provide a central depot where all could apply for such relief. They also caused the government to have representatives on the ground who could less easily ignore the extremes of famine and distress.

When these provisions were made applicable to Ireland those material effects came into operation at exactly the neediest time in Irish history.  Many thousands of Irish people survived because some relief was available at Workhouses.

On the other hand, ‘Irish’ landlords deliberately used their existence, and the fact that they were financed from local rates, to evict tenants and cottiers, and they were not discouraged from this policy by the English government.

In Ireland, unlike in England , relief could only be provided within the confines of the workhouse, no provision being made for outdoor relief.   This proviso originally applied, under the 1834 Poor Law, to England too, but it was quickly breached there, though no parallel emergency prevailed. 

The direction was clearly breached in Ireland during the Great Hunger, an [undeclared] emergency for which the Poor Law could not prescribe. This precedent was increasingly followed in the next decades as the disproportionately high cost of indoor as opposed to outdoor relief became clear (see below). In Ireland there was no right to relief – it was discretionary and dependent on the availability of workhouse places.   The distinction was doubly unfair where only 7.8% of the Irish population lived in towns, compared with 44% in England:  there was no alternative work possibilities in rural Ireland.   If a workhouse was full, there was no obligation to provide alternative relief.  The Irish Poor Law was deliberately designed to be more stringent than its English counterpart.

Faced with the enormity of Famine conditions, the government did, under its Poor Relief (Extension) Act of June 1847, authorise Boards of Guardians to give outdoor relief in Ireland to the disabled and unfit, to widows with two or more legitimate children and even to the able-bodied if the workhouse was already full.  Relief could only last two months and was in kind.

Yet by July 1849 there were 221,583 people in Irish Workhouses compared with 784,367 who were getting outdoor relief.  This number tapered off as conditions improved, but the ‘principle’ [of no outdoor relief’ in Ireland] had been breached.

In that year too the British Government made ratepayers in the more prosperous east and north liable through the rates for the destitute west.  Newry Board of Guardians in a resolution, objected to this ‘rate in aid’ in the following terms;

‘that holding Ireland to be an integral part of the United Kingdom, and that Ulster [ it also applied to Leinster] has no relations with Connacht which are not equally shared by any other division of the British Empire, we repudiate the separating principle upon which the proposition of the government proceeds.’  Though endorsed by other Unions, the plea was ignored. 

British government views on Irish Poor Relief before the Poor Law Amendment Act 1838

If one is to go by the words of the architects of the system in Ireland, the supposed primary motive – relief of destitution – was not uppermost in their minds.  Among the first three Poor Law Commissioners in England and Wales was George Nicholls.  He had been chosen as one of England ‘s first Poor Law Commissioners precisely because of the strict regime he had inaugurated as overseer of Southwell parish.  This had resulted in a substantial reduction in poor expenditure and the secret of his success was attributed to his determined attempts to end ‘outdoor relief’.

When the 1836 report of the Irish Commission of Inquiry into poverty advocated work creation schemes instead of a parallel workhouse system, the British government sent Nicholls over to Ireland to come up with the ‘right’ answer.  He did, supported by George Cornwall Lewis who had been an assistant to the Irish Royal Commission. Lewis felt its chief merit to be that

by forcing the impoverished peasantry off their holdings and into the workhouse for relief, the landlords could consolidate the tiny holdings and create a class of capitalist cultivators’ .

As it happened, they found pasture more remunerative than cultivation and much less costly in labour terms.  Landlords (mostly English and absentee) had found an ideal route to divest themselves of their poor tenants at the Irish ratepayers’ expense.  That this soon became the norm was anything but incidental, as this table abstracted from the Censuses shows.

Size of land holdings in Ireland 1841 and 1851

Acres

1841

1851

1-5

310,436

88,083

5-15

252,799

191,083

15-30

79,342

141,311

>30

48,625

149,090

The trend continued and accelerated in subsequent decades, aided by the Encumbered Estates Act 1849 which facilitated this process for ‘Irish’ landlords, who were heavily represented in the Westminster Parliament.

The  Irish Poor Law system proved to be totally inadequate to the required relief of the Irish people.  However it is frightening to contemplate what might have been the further extent of the horror had not the Workhouse system been in force when the blight struck the potato crop so completely and for so many years in succession.

That there was no famine is attested to by our own John Mitchell who wrote [Jail Journal] that through these years, long lines of heavily-laden food carts wound their way continuously to Irish ports for export to England.  Poor starving peasants had to watch this source of their relief, the fruits of their own labour, pass by unhindered.

‘Cowering wretches, almost naked in the savage weather, prowling in turnip fields endeavouring to dig up abandoned roots… little children… their limbs fleshless, their bodies half naked, their faces bloated yet wrinkled and of a pale greenish hue – children who could never, oh it was so plain, grow up to be men and women.’


THE context OF THE ENGLISH Poor Law Amendment Act 1834

The nineteenth century saw the first large-scale growth of English towns, which trebled or quadrupled in size while the population doubled. It was the first Industrial Revolution. Mass production in the new factories of English towns offered consumer products but more vitally, remunerative work which attracted people off the land.

Yet many who arrived in these English towns and cities could find no work and paupers and beggars on the streets became a major problem.  It was this that goaded the powers-that-be into action.  Some were poor Irish migrants.  The middle classes, landowners and factory owners, businessmen and men of property, ratepayers all, were concerned also at the heightened risk to them and to their families of epidemics of diseases that knew no class boundaries.  Collectively they had little concern in relation to poverty that did not affect them and which they attributed to sloth and moral degeneracy among the lower orders.  Most of all they feared increased criminality and mob rule from the throngs filing into towns in search of work or of relief from distress.

Naturally they strongly objected when the Government prescribed that relief would be a burden on local ratepayers rather than on the central exchequer. Thereafter their every endeavour was to minimise the cost to themselves by ensuring that the Workhouse regime would be so harsh as to deter all but those in direst need from applying for shelter or of remaining for any but the shortest possible period.

This was the thinking behind – and when its provisions became manifest – the reality of the Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834.  The English government was determined that it would apply also to Ireland for historically she had indeed more reason to fear mob rule in Ireland.  Also she did not want Ireland ‘s poorest migrating to England.  She would not contemplate the alternative suggestion of her appointed Commissioners that expensive public works schemes were required in Ireland, to be funded from the Exchequer to provide paid work for Ireland ‘s multitude of unemployed paupers.

Although general and non-prescriptive in its clauses, this Act (and its 1838 Irish counterpart) was radical in its effects. Though this present work deals mainly with its direct and immediate effects, it is possible that its indirect effects were more far-reaching and long lasting.  A not insignificant part of nineteenth century emigration from Ireland to the United States, England and Australia was of peasants, cottiers and paupers driven off the land by unscrupulous landlords.  Many spent some time in the Workhouse before emigration.

All of this was considered then (and ever since by conservative and revisionist historians) as an unavoidable natural consequence of the laisser-faire economic system. The descendents of these reluctant emigrants have ever since constituted a large part of worldwide Irish Republican militancy – financing, fortifying and inspiring the ‘armed force’ militants at home.

…   here is Part 2

 

1916 Shipping Disaster

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The fateful year of 1916 will long be remembered in world history. The Great War – the war to end wars – exacted a terrible toll in young men’s lives, especially at the Somme in France where in one day alone, 1 July, 19,000 young British troops – many of them, indeed, Irish (no part of Ireland was free then), some from Ulster and many from other parts of Ireland – perished in a fruitless attempt to relieve the French.



Read more1916 Shipping Disaster

John Mitchel of Newry

John Mitchel

John Mitchel (1815-1875) was a Young Irelander leader and perhaps the most esteemed republican to come from Newry. He was born in County Derry near the town of Dungiven on November 3 1815.
His father was a Presbyterian Minister and was called to serve in Newry.  The family moved to Drumalane House.

Young John went to the school of Dr Henderson in Hill Street along with his life-time friend and soon to be relation John Martin, another Newry republican hero of Presbyterian stock.  In the mid 1830s Mitchel graduated from Trinity College Dublin and was sent to Derry to work in the law office of his uncle.

It was about this time that he met and married Jenny Verner of Newry, the daughter of a ship’s Captain. They remained happily together (when not separated by enforced exile) until John’s death, thirty eight years later. In 1840 John Mitchel was sworn in as Attorney at Law. His church minister father died the same year. John and Jenny moved to the Banbridge area where he worked as a partner in the firm of Frazers. Mitchel worked hard at his legal practice, gaining a high reputation from all communities.

Our country was reeling from the punitive fiscal, trading, economic and financial measures introduced by the Imperial Government under the Act of Union designed to permit unfair advantage to England over Ireland in these areas. Organised resistance had been dealt a fatal blow by the massacres ordered in the previous generation against the United Irishmen and their supporters of the 1798 Rebellion. Few were prepared to raise a voice in protest.

John Mitchel entered the political arena when he began writing for the Young Irelander newspaper ‘The Nation’.  In 1846 he replaced Thomas Davis – that other great resistance hero – as leader writer for the paper  and the tone became immediately much more belligerent.  For the following two years leading up to the 1848 uprising, Mitchel wrote nearly all the paper’s political articles, invoking the hatred, wrath and finally reaction of the government while becoming the darling of the republican movement throughout the country. These writings reveal Mitchel’s writings at their best, surpassing even those of his illustrious predecessor.

The famine conditions of the 1840s had a profound effect upon him. The sight of his fellow countrymen sunk in the horrors of starvation, extreme deprivation or forced into impecunious exile left an indelible mark upon him. Travelling in Galway, he observed scenes that, he acknowledged, would never leave the memory of any observer. He wrote of

‘Cowering wretches, almost naked in the savage weather, prowling through turnip fields, endeavouring to grub up roots which had been left, but running to hide as a mail coach rolled by; very large fields where small farms had been consolidated, showing dark bars of fresh mould running through them where ditches had been levelled …. …sometimes I could see in front of the cottages, little children leaning against a fence when the sun shone out – for they could not stand – their limbs fleshless, their bodies half naked, their eyes bloated and yet wrinkled and of a palish green hue – children who would never, it was too plain, grow up to be men and women.’

Again in Jail Journal, he wrote …

Our footfalls rouse two lean dogs that run from us with doleful howling, and we know by the felon-gleam in their wolfish eyes how they have lived after their masters have died.  ..these people were our hosts two years ago.. they shrank and withered together until their voices dwindled to a rueful gibbering and they hardly knew one another’s faces, but their horrid eyes scowled on each other with a cannibal glare.  We know the whole story – the father was on a ‘public work’ and earned the sixth part of what would have maintained his family which was not always paid to him.  But still it kept them half alive for three months so that instead of dying in December, they died in March.  And who can tell the agony of those three months? … five children all dead weeks ago and flung coffinless into shallow graves – in the frenzy of their despair they would rend one another for the last morsel in that house of doom; and at last, in misty dreams of drivelling idiocy, they die utter strangers.’

John Mitchel, Jail Journal, 1854.

Mitchel called for violent, direct, military action to be instigated to drive the English out of Ireland. His open advocacy of armed rebellion was not supported by his more cautious, constitutionally minded colleagues so Mitchel left ‘The Nation’ early in 1848 and established his own radical newspaper ‘The United Irishman’. Through this he called for the overthrow of the landlord system and the establishment of an Irish Republic.

Three and a half months after its first publication, Mitchel was arrested by a frightened and uneasy government. It rushed through a special law at Westminster designed to deal specifically with him. This was the Treason Felony Act. John Mitchel was convicted by a packed jury and sentenced to fourteen years transportation. Without him the Irish rebels, weakened by three years of famine were unable to spark support from the defeated and disillusioned people and the Irish Rebellion of 1848 was the least successful of all those rebellions that swept Europe in that fateful year.

Mitchel was first exiled to Bermuda. A year later he was moved to Cape Colony and finally to Van Dieman’s Land (Tasmania) where he lived under parole, until he escaped to America five years later. He was well received by Irish exile in New York where he again established a successful paper ‘The Citizen’.  Unfortunately in the American Civil War of the mid-sixties, Mitchel supported the Confederacy and the cause of slavery.

In 1875 Mitchel returned to Ireland and won a parliamentary seat in Tipperary, under an abstentionist ticket. His health had deteriorated and he was spending much of his days bed-ridden in Dromalane House. He died peacefully on 20 March 1875 and was buried alongside his parent in the Presbyterian Old Meeting House Green in High Street, Newry. His friend (Honest) John Martin caught a chill attending his funeral and himself died a few days later.

Mitchel’s surviving oeuvre – besides his newspaper articles – include ‘Jail Journal’, ‘Last Conquest of Ireland’, ‘Life of Aodh O’Neill’, ‘Crusade of the Period’ and ‘A History of Ireland’.  A statue in tribute stands in St Colman’s Park and many political and Gaelic clubs of the town have adopted his name in honour.

There remain, even in our town those who call themselves Irish, who know this to be a valid record, and still choose to excuse the Imperial Government, to explain the ‘poor’ landlords’ heartlessness, to argue ‘laisser-faire’ economics, to defend the Union, to vilify Mitchel in other fields of thought and endeavour.

In the American Civil War he sympathised with the South, lost two sons in the fighting and was for a short while imprisoned by the victorious Northern forces. He went to Paris where he observed his much-loved daughter Henrietta (Henty) – who had become a Catholic – die while still at school.

Another Young Irelander : John Rea

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John Rea
Born: 1822, Millfield area of Belfast
Died: May 17, 1881 – suicide by gunshot
Father: Francis REA
Mother:
Married: Never married

A man of many parts, he served nine months in Kilmainham Jail in 1848. He defended John Mitchel, acted for the Catholics after “Dolly’s Brae” and defended Michael Davitt in in 1879 in Sligo courthouse.

He once famously referred to himself as, “Her Orthodox Presbyterian Brittannic Majesty’s Orange Fenian Attorney – General for Ulster.”

For quite some time, I didn’t know who this John REA might be and why his photograph was in an album of family photos that centered on the family and friends of the JACKSONs of Urker, Crossmaglen. Fortunately, I posted the photo in my “Mystery Photos” and Mark DOYLE, a doctoral student in Boston who is completing a dissertation on mid-19th Century Belfast History, was generous in sending me more than a dozen pages describing the tempestuous life of John REA. Apparently, the photograph of him is rare.

My guess is that John REA’s defence of John Mitcel and of members of the Irish Land League would have been one of the aspects of his life that endeared him to the JACKSON family and the reason that he was included in their photo album. Daniel Gunn BROWNE (husband of Margaret JACKSON and passionate advocate for tenant farmers) as well as many of the other JACKSONs were noteably active in this movement.

Weekly Northern Whig May 21, 1981

“The tragical end of Mr. John Rea has created a profound sensation in Belfast and in the province of Ulster. He was, perhaps the best-known man in this town, for he has been before the public eye for thirty-four years with hardly an interval, and has always arrested attention by his eccentric personality and his extraordinary actions.

Yet he was a solitary man through life. His great vanity hardly allowed the possibility of companionship; his erratic course in politics still more isolated him; and the very consciousness that he had little work to do in the world, except in the way of attack, made him go much alone. Mr. Rea was a man of great powers, but with the slightest possible ballasting for so strong a brain, and thus his life, judged even from the most lenient standpoint, was a melancholy failure. He might have been a wealthy man, in the exercise of his profession, in a town where many solicitors, as young as himself, have made large fortunes, but, so far as anybody knows, Mr. Rea has died a poor man.

He had no power of concentration upon anything, and the plan of his life was, in many respects, like his speeches, very discursive, and without object. He had a bizarre streak in his intellect, which, along with wonderful powers of wit and sarcasm, made men listen to him for hours with an interest not to be accounted for by the solid results of his interminable talking. Often the zig-zag lightning of his brain upset the gravity of his gravest judges, his sternest critics, and his bitterest enemies, and led many a one to wish that he had had a steadier judgment to control the working of such unique powers.

“Mr. Rea was swept as a young man into the Young Ireland enthusiasm that carried away so many promising young Irishmen five-and-thirty years ago. There was Nationalism in his very blood. His grandfather was a character in his day, and made his mark very visibly felt about Saintfield in 1798. But it would be difficult to say that Mr. Rea had any steadfast appreciation of political principles through life. It would be difficult to say, indeed, what he was in politics. We suspect that his changes of opinion, if indeed he had any opinions, were determined by personal collisions with members of the various parties he supported, who could not get him to work harmoniously with them to any serviceable result.

Thus he was Young Irelander, Liberal, Cromwellian, and Orange Conservative, by turns, till at last it would be difficult to say that he was anything but a reckless and meaningless critic of everything done in town. His terrible appetite for talk led him to seek election to the public boards, and wherever he succeeded in making an entry there was a virtual end of business. He drove chairmen to despair, and struck round him with a reckless vehemence that often recalled the humours of Donnybrook, for there was wit in all his malice, and to the last he could get a hearing from the working classes of the town, who always had a relish for his plain-speaking and the dash of libel that ran through his public addresses.

“It is very sad to think of the tragical end of such a career. The Coroner’s inquest throws no light upon the cause of his death further than that he perished by his own hand in a fit of insanity. He had been in dull spirits for some weeks back, owing, it is suggested, to his want of success at the Poor-law elections. There always comes a time in the life of such a man as Mr. Rea when disappointments of this sort have a depressing and unhinging effect upon them. The spring and elasticity of life are gone, and strokes that twenty years before would make no impression fall with killing effect.

It is sad, too, to think of the solitariness of his death. Of course, as Voltaire says, every man dies alone; but there seemed to be a special solitude here. There was nobody at hand to attend to his wants or to say a kind word that might have broken the spell of heaviness which brought on the disastrous close.

Belfast will miss John Rea even in the midst of all its gravities and its hurries. He gave a bit of colour to our sober Ulster life, and will be a memorable figure in the future traditions of Belfast.”

Weekly Northern Whig – May 21, 1981

“Reminiscences of Mr. John Rea.” (By one who knew him.)

“…Mr. Rea was a thoroughly good-natured man, as vain or egotistic persons usually are, and made it a point to please his company wherever he was. He had an irrepressible vivacity of talk in private that made him an agreeable companion, but unhappily he carried his public life too much into private society. …

Mr. Rea never married. I once advised him strongly to marry, and he said gravely, ‘Well, I think you are right. I will think about it.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘you have no time to lose. When will you see about it?’ ‘Whenever I can get this Chancery suit settled.’ ‘And how long will that be?’ ‘I think,’ was his reply, with much gravity, ‘if it is properly managed, it might last five hundred years.’

… Everybody remembers his doings in the Belfast Town Council. He had a special antipathy to one gentleman, who had not studied his grammar to advantage in his youth. On one occasion, when this gentleman was discussing some point with vehemence, Mr. Rea rose up and said, ‘Mr. Mayor, I protest.’ ‘What do you protest against?’ ‘I protest against a verb not agreeing with its noun.’

Weekly Northern Whig May 21, 1981
Report of Rea’s death – town’s reaction:

“When the newsvendors commenced to shout the sad occurrence through the streets of Belfast on Tuesday evening there were very large numbers of persons who paid little heed to the noisy youths. The name of the well-known solicitor had in its time been associated with so many extraordinary events, and the newsboys in their desire for sales had been in the habit so frequently of playfully associating it with wondrous performances, that many pedestrians on the thoroughfares little thought that the fatal occurrence which was being bawled forth had really taken place.”

Life and Death of Cyril Wiltshire, Castle Street .. [1]

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Ed and Bria Herron, Newry teachers by profession and, long into their well-deserved retirement teachers still at Newry U3A, are among the most popular and the best-esteemed of that august body of lovely people.  Indeed they continue to this day to invest enormous energy and enthusiasm into their work, so much so that their French classes regularly spill into the corridors of my old Alma Mater.

Their own love story -and life story – I hope will one day soon be told in these pages, for it is truely a remarkable tale.
But first, we are pleased to tell the tale of Bria’s father, Lance Corporal Cyril Elwyn Wiltshire of the Fifth Battalion, Welsh Regiment, who fell at Calvados, France on 21 July 1944 aged just twenty-five years.

Much of this tale is reproduced from his letters and his diaries.  Cyril was of 38 Castle Street Newry.

… more later …