BY JOHN FITZGERALD
(Part two)
At Callan Court Judge Pat Cody’s expression changed from one of treasonable contentment to a deep frown when two teenagers appeared before him accused of stealing hay from a barn in Bolton.
He sentenced them to fourteen days each and a “severe whipping”. The judge took a serious view of the offence, he said, as hay was a precious commodity and essential to the livelihood of the farmer, a Mr. Glendon.
A man who worked for a Mr. Howard of West Street was charged with stealing sheep from Robert Cahill of Cappahenry. Howard owned fields opposite Cahill’s quarry that in later years passed to the ownership of Jimmy Carroll.
Three sheep, two of them in lamb, disappeared from Cahill’s farm. They were taken to a derelict house in Newmarket Lane and killed there by the culprit.
To alert the public to this offence, a local man referred to as “Billy the Loader” was given the task of walking through the streets ringing a bell and declaring that a crime had been committed.
“All good citizens, hear ye,” he hollered, “Three fine sheep have been stolen from a gentleman farmer of Cappahenry. Be vigilant and notify the police if ye have knowledge of this dreadful deed.”
The Town Commission employed Billy as night watchman and bell-ringer. There was no local radio in those days.
The sheep stealer was spotted at four o’ clock one morning trudging along the Kilkenny road with the skins of three sheep slung over his back. This aroused the suspicion of a courting couple who reported him to the police.
The man was identified and police conducted a search of the empty house. There they found the sheep carcasses hidden under the hearthstone of the kitchen. Robert Cahill was asked to identify the sheep. He confirmed they were his.
On ascertaining that the mutton was in excellent condition, he had it cut up and donated to needy people in the town. The culprit received a two-year sentence for his crime. The judge said he would have imposed a tougher sentence but for an obvious drink problem that had led to the “wretched man’s downfall”.
In a case involving weights and measures, the local Head Constable informed the court that a Callan publican had indulged in “the vicious practise of striking his measures with a shillelagh”, thereby causing false or misleading readings.
The policeman had found a one gallon container on the premises that was so battered it could contain less than seven pints of locally brewed beer. The brewery was at Currens of Ivy Lodge in West Street.
The publican’s defence was to blame Billy the Loader for “knocking spots off the container” when he brought it to the courthouse for analysis. That was another job assigned to the town’s fulltime night watchman and bell-ringer: collecting weights and measures for testing.
On the positive side, the police could be generous in their praise of upstanding citizens. The Head Constable was asked by the judge for his opinion of a Miss Mary Slattery, who had applied for the transfer to herself of the license of a pub owned by Tom Larkin of Green Street.
The policeman described Ms. Slattery as “a highly respectable young person, very good-looking, and a fine specimen of a village belle.” After looking her up and down, the judge agreed with this assessment of the woman and granted her the pub license.
At another hearing, the Constable lavished praise on a Bridge Street shopkeeper for his “honesty in dealing with his customers irrespective of their creed or class.”
He was alluding to John Kennedy, great-grandfather of Mona Callanan of the hotel in Green Street (later Mrs. Feore of Carlow)
