By John Fitzgerald
(Part three)
(Carmel Kealy’s recollections of life in early 20th century Callan provide a fascinating insight for people of present and future generations. Part one and two can be read on the Observer website.)
Trades and crafts flourished in Callan. Carmel admired even as a youngster the skilled woodcarving evident in the porch and confessionals of the Parish Church and parts of the Convent Chapel. The Holdens were (and still are) great carpenters in the area and the Clooneys excelled as freehand sign writers and decorators.
Callan basked in the glory of Edward O’ Shea’s achievements as a sculptor. He won numerous medals for his work, both in Ireland and overseas, when his acclaimed sculptures were exhibited. His Celtic Crosses were hailed as masterpieces.
Towards the end of the nineteenth century, O’ Shea moved his business to Kilkenny, though he maintained his monumental works in Callan. He sculpted using the world-renowned black marble and also blue limestone, deriving waterpower from the river Nore. He ran quarries at Bonnet’s Rath, Holden’s Rath, and Ballydonnel.
Pat Molloy, father of the legendary Paddy Molloy, served his time to Edward O’ Shea, opening his yard in West Street near the ruin of Skerries Castle.
The scarcity of water in Callan in the first quarter of the century made life difficult for townspeople-sewerage pipes too were almost non-existent. But Carmel Kealy found joy in adversity, trekking to the Abbey Well along with hundreds of other locals to fetch buckets or cans of pure, sparkling water. Every night, long lines of people queued at the Blessed Well for their next day’s water supply.
There was a town pump in Green Street, close to the site of the present-day Allied Irish Bank, though the craic was mightier, it seems, in the abbey meadow. With so much human activity around the well, it proved a popular meeting place.
Carmel recalls: “We loved to exchange news there. And there was often music in the evenings. Boys and girls sat around the walls singing. Some people brought accordions and played them. Budgie Corcoran sang his heart out, and the whole town could hear him. People opened their windows to listen.”
Budgie kept a horse called White Roll in shopkeeper Frank Moore’s field. He reminded locals of the Lone Ranger as he mounted his stallion and rode through the Callan countryside, whistling an old prairie tune or crooning a Western melody.
Sometimes, he would close his eyes for a second or two while galloping down Green Street on a Fair Day, and imagine himself riding into Dodge City to face the toughest outlaws and save the pretty gals from a “whippin’ and a whoppin.’”
The wall of the old abbey in the meadow created an echo, so that the musical voices were amplified, and the river carried their songs for miles. People in Kells could hear them.
Other singers in the meadow included Jim Landy and Patty Walsh, boot makers in the town. Paddy Walsh of Green Lane and his brother Jack made the odd appearance, as did Mick Kealy and “Cycler” Corcoran. Joe Funchion, brother of publican Paddy Funchion, was noted for his renditions of ‘Mollie Bawn’ and ‘Nellie Dene.’
“There were some beautiful singers in Callan then. There still are”, Carmel reflected,
“ I remember when I came to Callan first as a child, going down to the river with my aunt to lift water for the cows. We heard the singers. Their voices floated up the river in the twilight. I will never forget how beautiful those voices were, and the lovely songs I heard that evening.”
There were some characters that stood out in Carmel’s memory. Bill Murphy, for example, who earned a crust by standing guard over a farmer’s horse while the man did his business or had a drink; He might have to stand for hours in the same spot, often in the freezing cold, and he never got more than sixpence.
(To be continued)
