Ciaran’s Peculier [sic] Blog

I have recently completed a charming book called Cloverhill: A Church of Ireland parish in County Cavan, c. 1720 -2010 written by Dr Jonathan Cherry. This was produced in association with the 150^th anniversary celebrations of the parish church’s consecration.

 Jonathan Cherry is a very good friend of mine. We have much in common. We both attended Cavan’s Royal School where the teachers, not least Douglas Anderson and Ivan Bolton, imparted that spirit of civility, combined with a thirst for knowledge, which has served us both so well. We have both been “doctored” in history. We are both scholars,  motivated by a deep and sincere respect for each other’s work.  What is more we both come from well-respected families in our respective communities.

 Dr Cherry’s book is a history of a small, vibrant and tenacious rural community. He traces its history, using written sources, maps and folklore, as well as less traditional sources. But this is more than just another history book, as Dr Cherry brings the unique perspective of an historical geographer to his task. He tells the story of the locality, but never forgets that its story unfolds in a far wider context.

 Cloverhill was, for over two centuries, synonymous with the local landholding family of the Sandersons. Dr Cherry sympathetically describes their relationship with the community, and what emerges is a picture, not of exploitation, but of co-operation. The Sanderson demesne lands at the centre of the parish were a considerable employer, while the rents collected didn’t feed the gaming habits of some far-off and ambivalent absentee proprietor. Instead they were used by a series of landlords, including the indomitable Mary Ann Sanderson, who was deeply committed to Cloverhill.

 The central aspect of this community is without doubt St John’s parish church. It was built by the aforementioned Mary Ann Sanderson. Like many people I had been misled into thinking that the church had been consecrated in December 1856 by a centenary service reported in the Anglo-Celt in December 1956. The formal consecration took place in 1860. This may help in identifying the architect. Dr Cherry repeats Jeremy Williams’ assertion that one of the Wellands may have been responsible. Why I felt that it was NOT the work of William Hague Jar (1836-99) was that, in 1856 Hague was only twenty years of age and not a qualified architect. If the building work only began say in 1857 or 1858 it Hague might have had a hand in drawing up the plans for his father who built the church, although he was as yet still too young and inexperienced to be credited with the work.

 In an introductory chapter Dr Cherry outlines the various sources he used. He outlines one which is probably the most important, and which is all too easily overlooked: an intimate knowledge of the location.  He writes:

 An often understated but hugely important source in understanding the sense of a place or the place as lived is personal experience. As a native of the area … I have been immersed in the history of the place since an early age. My own personal interest in the evolution of the village and district, coupled with strong familial ties to the area, have been of significant value in charting the history and understanding Cloverhill past and present. Speaking with local people and simply observing change has given me a greater understanding of what Cloverhill means to those who live there.

 This is a local study par excellence. It is of value on many different, though parallel levels, first as a local history, and then as a volume that gives keen and erudite insights into rural and religious history, as well as the history of landscape. All these elements are deftly brought together by Dr Cherry through his engaging and pellucid style.

Readers of my most recent Echo of the Past dealing with the tragic fate of poor Mary Prunty will have seen references to the townland of Ballymacarue. While this is the form used in the reports of the Cavan Weekly News I feel certain this must be the townland of  Ballymackinroe.

Mystery still surrounds the eventual destination of those tanks seized by pirates off Somalia. They originated in the Ukraine, and initial theories that they were meant for some of the battling war-lords of that country were dispelled when the Kenyan government put its hands up.

However, the ship’s manifest has been acquired by the BBC and the buyer was listed thereon simply as GOSS, an acronym widely used and understood as meaning the Government of Southern Sudan. The authorities in Juba might want such hardware if they eventually go solo as an independent republic and break away from Khartoum. They’d find the tanks especially useful if such a divorce was not amicable.The Southern Sudanese deny having any involvement, claiming emphatically that the ship was not heading for Southern Sudan, a plausible enough contention given that Southern Sudan must be 1,500 miles at least from the nearest stretch of coast.  The Kenyans aren’t changing their story either. They insist that GOSS stands for General Ordinance Supplies and Security – yeah!

Confused? I think Planet Parker can shed some light on this tortured situation. Not far from Butlersbridge, Co. Cavan, lies the quiet townland of Derrygoss. One of its residents saw what were advertised as cheap Ukrainian septic tanks dating from the Soviet Era for sale in Buy & Sell.  He sent his cheque to a post office box but never heard anything more, causing him to became, well, worried. It seems that the Ukrainians never had septic tanks to sell in the first place but seeing his order they thought he wantted military tanks. They couldn’t undertsand his handwriting except for the last four letters, which they stuck on the ship’s manifest. The tanks found their way onto a ship sailing along the Somali coast and the rest is, as they say, history.