Tuesday 13 November 2012

Bernard McGuire's Bergonzi


In November 2010 our youngest daughter Sarah announced she would like to learn how to play the fiddle and commenced classes in Boyle.  To our delight she took to the lessons with enthusiasm and what’s more was enthralled by traditional Irish music.  More lessons were sought and there were murmurings of her making good progress.

Bernard (Centre) John Touhey, Kilkenny Piper (Left)
 with Harry Bradley Flautest (Right) The chanter was made
by John from wood sourced by Bernard & presented to Harry
at our house February 2016
Our good friend, Bernard McGuire is a native of South Sligo and he and my father Peter Burke were near neighbours.  Apart from the fact that Bernard is our friend, he has been our family doctor for thirty years and has seen three generations of our family through many trials and tribulations. 
Peter and Bernard spent many happy hours arguing and debating the style, quality, pace and interpretation of musicianship in South Sligo.  Peter developed cancer and during the final years of his illness, he always looked forward to seeing Bernard because he knew that despite whatever professional ministrations would be undertaken, the musical debate would provide an entertaining distraction. 
Peter died in 2007 and when Bernard saw and heard Sarah playing the fiddle, he determined that he would get a fiddle for Sarah.

Sarah playing 'Uncle' Paddy McGuires
 Fiddle in  May 2014
As far as Bernard was concerned, the fiddle must have a connection to South Sligo and in this way, the old connection of the families would continue.  Bernard had several uncles but two of them, Jimmy and Paddy, were both fiddle players and long deceased.  Both men had resided in England. Some years previously a new patient came to his surgery Bernard threw the chat on him regarding his life in England.  This patient was John P. Carty, a native of Trenagry, Ballinameen and a keen traditional musician.  It transpired that not only did John P. know of Bernard’s uncles, his uncle Paddy McGuire had organised a gig for John P. in England many years ago.

John P. had passed his music on to his sons, John and James.  John lives in the old home place in Ballinameen and enjoys an international reputation as a fiddle player.  James resides in London and is a renowned flute player.  To Sarah, John was her neighbour, father to Maggie and James and provider of the lift to school in the morning.  John spent many mornings highly amused by Sarah’s latest discovery of virtuoso traditional fiddle players.  With the awed tone of a recent convert, one morning Sarah announced she had found the greatest fiddle player in the world; Kevin Burke, and asked John had he ever heard of him to which he responded with the word, ‘traitor’.  Little did Sarah know that Kevin and John were not only colleagues but that Kevin was in John’s house that morning!

A year later, John Carty had noted that Sarah was making some progress on the fiddle and by then, Sarah had realized that John was a virtuoso and was mortified at her ignorance.  John invited Sarah to bring her fiddle to the house and gently pointed out a couple of technical points to improve her playing. 

In the spring of 2012, Bernard attended a family funeral in England and put out the word that he wanted Jimmy or Paddy’s fiddles if no one in the family was using them.  Five fiddles arrived in the post over the following weeks four of which appeared to be in reasonable condition.  The fifth fiddle was dilapidated, had been bought second hand many years ago, and the intrepid Bernard decided he would keep this fiddle and attempt restoration.  Another of Bernard’s’ many talents was wood turning.  He had successfully made himself a set of pipes and was in the process of making a concertina. 

Having removed the top plate of the fiddle the Bergonzi name and the year was branded on the base.  Having searched the internet, Bernard insisted that we go to visit Kevin Sykes a Luthier, based in Ballyvarry, Co. Mayo early on a Sunday morning.   Kevin must have been quite bemused to receive such at call so early on a Sunday but with grace and some inquisitiveness invited us to his office.  Kevin was professional and reluctant to say more than that the wood, patina and scale of the instrument were beautiful. 

Three other fiddles were given to Kevin Sykes for refurbishment.  Sarah was given a Strad copy which belonged to Paddy McGuire.   Roisin O’Donnell-Bradley, eldest daughter of the infectious Belfast Flute player, Harry Bradley now residing in our next townland, Knockarush, got the ¾ fiddle which belonged to Rosemary McGuire’s family and the third was kept at as a practice fiddle.  A fourth fiddle also a Strad copy, was given to John Carty, this belonged to Jimmy McGuire. 

Bernard made some other enquiries regarding the Bergonzi.  Bernard had decided that the fiddle, if it was any good, should go to someone who would appreciate it and do it justice musically.  Kevin reflected that the instrument could indeed be restored; but there was no way of knowing if it would suit the recipient as each player formed a different bond with their instrument.  At this stage Bernard knew that Kevin was familiar with John Carty, his work and his instrument preferences.

In all of the years that I have known Bernard, his feisty and brusque manner has successfully hidden his very soft heart and intuition from the general public.  He would not thank me for describing him as a romantic Irishman who has both knowledge and appreciation of history and traditional music.  At the time of writing and throughout this little saga, Bernard has been at war with cancer.  He started out this little journey with the idea of keeping up a connection by way of a gift to my daughter, one which my father would have loved to fulfil had he lived to see her play.

Last Saturday, Sarah and I visited with Bernard, she had learned his two favourite tunes, gave a rendition and took some correction.  When we were leaving he instructed us to bring the untouched Bergonzi to John Carty ‘with his thanks for the great tunes and good wishes for many more’.  Bernard wanted John to have it, as he is both musically and emotionally appreciative of the instrument and the families involved.

So there you have it, this Bergonzi, whether it be a mediocre or phenomenal instrument represents to us the importance of emotional connectivity and appreciation of a musical culture which is primitively embedded in our psyche. 

Bernard’s favourite tunes are Colliers and Miss Monahans reels, I sincerely hope the Bergonzi is up to it.

Tuesday 21 August 2012

Joe Mór MacDonnell Doo Castle's Gregarious Landlord

My paternal ancestors came from Doocastle and Kilaville both of which are in the parish of Kilturra but the former is situated in County Mayo and the latter in County Sligo.  This makes researching both interesting and challenging.  For example, when I discovered the location of the Burke landholding in Doocastle, I also came across some text which refers to the landlord of Doo Castle, Joe Mór McDonnell.  As my family have a strong thread of interest in traditional music I found this piece of research hilarious.  Added to this, my daughter is acquainted with a young piper named  John Touhey who hails from Kilkenny.  In passing I asked him had he ever heard of Piping Joe Mór and to my astonishment he retorted that not only did he hear of him but he had seen his pipes which are on display in the National Museum!  So, we all plan another day out in the autumn to find the  ruins of Doo Castle.  So as I stated above, research is interesting but my modus operadai is like that of a butterfly, I keep stopping on the way when I find another interesting topic

Joe MacDonnell like many impoverished Connacht gentry of his day - ‘as high-spirited and irresponsible as schoolboys’ - Joe Mór refused to let debt cramp his lifestyle. Irish hospitality reigned at Doo Castle, and while local custom demanded that no drink be consumed before dinner, that meal was at 4 p.m. Howver, after dinner, the dining-room door was locked, the key thrown out the window, and the man who could not take his bumper of claret as the decanter went around was forced to drink a pint of salt water. Joe Mór is not likely to have ever suffered this penalty: He was known to drink twenty-one tumblers of punch after dinner - though he was never seen to be drunk, or even under the influence of liquor (McDonnell Bodkin, 7-10)


The precarious state of Joe Mór’s finances is highlighted in the story told of an unfortunate Dublin wine-merchant who supplied a barge load of his best vintages to Doo Castle.  Realising, too late, that he was unlikely to ever see any payment for his wares, he visited Doo Castle with the object of buying back what was left of the cargo in order to sell it and limit his loss. After several days hospitality, the merchant nervously broached the subject, diffidently suggesting that Joe and his guests, from the short shrift that they gave to his best vintages after dinner, would be just as content with whiskey-punch. Not only would punch suffice after dinner, he was told, but it would be much preferred - but Joe, alas, had no ready money to buy the requisite lemons. (McDonnell Bodkin, 8-9).

Joe’s stratagems for outwitting the summons-servers who besieged Doo Castle became legendary. He organised fox-hunts by moonlight, with the participants returning to Doo Castle for a hearty breakfast. Sunday being the only day on which debtors were free from arrest, when Joe found himself being pursued one Saturday evening he promptly went to ground in the hospitable house of the attorney who had taken out the summons against him (McDonnell Bodkin,10-11):

“There he dined, drank punch, played cards and won heavily. But a little after midnight he said to his host, "it’s time for me to be going home. It’s Sunday morning now, and I have already kept that poor fellow of yours too long waiting outside in the cold.” A year as MP for Mayo gave Joe a respite from his creditors. In March 1846 he stood as a Repeal candidate in a by-election caused by the retirement of Richard Blake, MP for Mayo.

His opponent was George Henry Moore (1811-91) of Moore Hall,  Carrahall, co. Mayo, father of the novelist George Moore. An election address by Daniel O’Connell on Joe’s behalf was published on 21 February 1846 and, a week later, O’Connell remitted £250 for his election fund to John MacHale, Archbishop of Tuam. When the result was declared on 2 March, Joe had polled 477 votes against Moore’s 417.

A folklore account of the contest, ‘A Parliamentary Election during the Famine’, was one of the tales James Berry (1842-1914) published in the  Mayo News  between 1910 and 1914 - though Berry’s informants confused the Repeal Movement with that for Catholic Emancipation nearly two decades earlier. The  description of Joe in this account is not very flattering, and the odd spelling of his name, ‘Joe Moore McDonnell’, was probably due to his being confused in popular memory with an earlier MP for Mayo, James Moore O’Donel of Westport, who was killed in a duel in Galway in 1801:

If the Archbishop had searched all Ireland he couldn’t have found a worse candidate that than his nominee, Joe Moore McDonnell of Doocastle, a country squire, who had nothing to recommend him save his drinking proclivities, his vile, immoral, immodest anecdotes, and his colossal stature; but the great Archbishop could find no other candidate, and he was determined to oust James Moore O'Donel at any cost in order to show the Government and the landlords what he could do. Some thought it a rash, forlorn hope, but the Archbishop was dismayed for, like Napoleon, he had a staff of priests around him, generals in fact, who were the bravest of the brave, foremost among them being Father Michael Conway, Father Luke Ryan, and Father Michael Curley who, although small in stature, was surely the Roman of them all.

On one occasion Joe, standing as the champion of the “ould faith” in Mayo, was caught by a horrified supporter eating meat on Friday. Instantly his popularity departed. There was shout of derision when he appeared on a platform. “Give him an egg to take the taste of mate off his mouth!” and an egg whizzed past his ear. ‘Big Joe’ was equal to the occasion. He drew a letter from his pocket.
“Does anyone here,” he roared out in a voice of thunder that dominated the tumult,
“know the handwriting of His Holiness Pope Pius the Ninth?”
There was moment’s pause. No one seemed to know the handwriting of His Holiness. Without waiting for an answer, Joe read the letter at the top of his voice: -

‘MY DEAR JOE,
I am well pleased to hear you are fighting for the old faith down in Mayo. You are neither to fast nor abstain while the good work is in hand.


“With kindest regards for yourself and the boys that are helping you,
I remain,
Yours very sincerely,
POPE Pius IX.

A roar of applause followed the name, and “Big Joe” was once more the popular  hero.  But Joe’s relief from his creditors was to be short-lived. In the general election of 1847, James Moore O'Donel, having this time taken the Repeal Pledge, swept home with 504 votes to Joe Mór McDonnels 53 (Freeman’s Journal, 1 August 1912); he held the seat until 1857 and served as MP again from 1868 to 1870.

 During his year in Parliament, Joe Mór never spoke, but did once attempt to serenade the members (McDonnell Bodkin, 12):
It is said that on one occasion ‘Big Joe” determined to enliven the dull routine of the House of Commons by a spirited tune on his favourite pipes, and with this intent had carried his instrument with him into the front lobby, but was captured by his friends at the door of the legislative chamber.


Sometime in the 1850s, Joe lost the battle against his creditors, and was arraigned before the Encumbered Estates Court, the occasion of the much-quoted statement on his assets. He had no male heirs and the estate appears to have been placed in trust for his grand-children.
Joe moved to Dublin, where he lived in Rathmines with a Dr Hughes, to whom he was probably related through his grandfather, Myles McDonnell. He died on 14 January 1872 and was buried in Glasnevin cemetery. Again, according to family tradition, there was not enough money to pay the grave-diggers to fill in the grave, and some labourers from DooCastle, who were returning from England, performed this service out of respect and liking for the big man (McDonnell).
Administration of his estate was granted to Dominic Darcy of Doo Castle; described as the father and guardian of Joe’s grand-children; he was obviously his son-in-law.

The Seán Reid Society Journal. Volume 1. March 1999.

http://www.seanreidsociety.org/SRSJ1/A%20piping%20MP%20Joseph%20Myles%20McDonnell.PDF

A Piping MP: Joseph Myles McDonnell (1796-1872), Doo Castle,
Ballaghadereen, County Mayo.




THE ROAD THROUGH EASTERSNOW


THE ROAD THROUGH EASTERSNOW

If you’re not and Irish music fan Its time you did begin
We’ll take you on through Croghan by the back road from Elphin
We know you’ll like the countryside as further north we go
Our port of call is Dickie’s on the road through Eastersnow.

 CHORUS

You’ll meet Una, Breege and Eileen, that trio they’re so cute
Plus two Pats – no caps or hats
And Charlie on the flute
For music and for talent – sure it is the status quo
You’ll find it all at Dickie’s on the road through Eastersnow


The atmosphere is friendly there, They make you feel at home
You’ll get no better welcome no matter where you roam
With all the friendly faces there – they surely let you know
You’ll get Céad Míle Fáilte on the road through Eastersnow

You’ll meet the finest dancers there to give them all their due
They’ll do the Stack of Barley and they’ll Shoe the Donkey too!
And when you hear the singers there – you know they’re not too slow
They’ll surely rise your spirits on the road through Eastersnow.


Note:  Dickie & Una Beirne own a lovely little pub in the parish of Croghan, Co. Roscommon.  This poem was written by the late Pat Kenny   is dedicated to them and the patrons of ‘Dickie’s’.  

Wednesday 9 May 2012

A spot of mischief and music in Doocastle




Whilst searching for data or any clues about the Burke's and Irwin's of Doocastle/Kilturra, I came across The Memoirs of Arthur O'Neill, a traveling harpist.  To my great amusement, Arthur's account of a 'session' in Irwin's is remarkably like those I remember in our home- only a hundred and fifty years later!


"I next went to Mr. Jones Irwin's of Streamstown, County Sligo. I am totally at a loss how to describe that gentleman's uncommon manner of living at his own house and amongst his tenantry. He had an ample fortune. He was an amateur [and] had four sons and three daughters, who were all such proficients in music that no instrument was unknown to them. There was at one time a meeting in his house of forty-six musicians, who played in the following order.

The three Miss Irwins at the piano3
Arthur O'Neill (myself), harp1
Gentlemen flutes6
Gentlemen violoncellos2
Common pipers10
Gentlemen fiddlers20
Gentlemen clarinets4
Total46

     At the hour this hospitable gentleman's customary meeting was finished, some guests contiguous to their own places went away, but those who lived some miles off remained ; and in order to accommodate them Mr. and Mrs. Irwin lay on chairs that night in the parlour. For my own part I never spent a more agreeable night, either in bed or out of bed."  The Memoirs of Arthur O'Neill (1734-1818) have been dictated ca. 1810 to Thomas Hughes, Bunting's copyist, and compiled from Bunting's mss. by Donal O'Sullivan (who took on division into chapters, chapter summaries, additions [in square brackets] and correct spelling of Irish phrases) 


My paternal great grandfather James Irwin ranked himself as a landholder in 1874 when his daughter Bridget married John Burke (my great Grandfather).