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Emyvale The And Now
The following cutting from the Northern Standard
of 21st April 1961, and printed here with their
permission, was sent to me by Ms. A. O’Hagan and
we think that some of the older generation from
around Emyvale will find it interesting but the
younger generation should be interested too and
compare then with now.
Emyvale Then and Now.
The returned exile might be surprised on entering
Emyvale from the Monaghan Road. The old stone
bridge, which weathered the storms and floods of
centuries, has been replaced by an up-to-date
metal one. Some might have nostalgic memories as
the old Bridge was a meeting place for ‘the boys’ of
the village. Here they were wont to plan different
kinds of activities, some good and some not so
good.
The top of the bridge was flat and made an
excellent seat. It was a kind of forum for the older
members of the community. One old man usually
started off “I was reading in the paper etc” and the
subject was thrown open for discussion. Going ‘up
the town’, Scarna or Sgairbh Na Geaorach, to give
it its full ancient name, presents a very different
picture to that seen at the beginning of the century.
Many fine houses have been built and pretty
bungalows take the place of the old thatched
houses. These were mostly one-storey high with
small windows. Some had a half-door over which
the inmates could lean and watch the world go by.
There was often a stone outside the door and a
very comfortable seat it was on a Summer’s
evening.
To return to the present. A bus now runs daily
between Emyvale and Monaghan. In the old days
the jaunting cars went to Monaghan very Monday.
They were simply loaded down with passengers
and baskets of eggs and butter. The jaunting car
reminds me of my first entry into Emyvale. I would
be about nine years old and a most terrifying
experience it was sitting on that jaunting car from
Glasslough to Emyvale, holding on to the ‘dicky’ for
dear life and expecting to be thrown onto the road
every minute.
Frank the Baron’s Hill stands sentinel on the east
side of the town. It was the scene of many a
bonfire in the days of yore. By the way, Frank the
Baron, whose real name was McKenna, claimed
that his great great grandfather was a baron on the
Leslie estate. There were many interesting
characters in Emyvale 50 or 60 years ago. Margaret
the apple woman lived in a little house almost
opposite to where the present Town Hall now
stands.
She attended fairs and markets with a great basket
of gooseberries or apples. She kept a basket of
gooseberries near the door and one could get a
half-pint tinful for a half-penny. Running to the
pump for a can of water meant good measure.
Nearby live Ned the showmaker. He always dressed
up on Sunday, white waist-coat, soft hat tilted over
one eye and boots polished to perfection. Paddy the
creel maker lived further up. He had been in
Glasgow in his youth and ‘wrought’ at the Town
head. Paddy never married and for this reason. He
couldn’t thole the smell of bacon much less the
taste. He was afraid if he brought in a wife she
might start to fry bacon and that would be the end
of Paddy’s peaceful existence.
But the most outstanding character was Alec – he
did odd jobs about the town. One side line was
bisom making. He’d start off about five o’clock on a
Summer’s morning. Out over Curthein, which
always gave him an appetite, so he said, and on to
the mountains. Here he would gather a great load
of heather, get it on to his back and start for home,
a distance of four or five miles. He’d stop to rest at
several houses and was always welcome, as he was
considered the best storyteller in the country. Back
in Scarna he’s start to make the bisoms. On Monday
he’s take a load on his back, and walk to
Monaghan, a distance of six miles. Here he’d sell
the bisoms for a penny or twopence each.
Alec’s house was a rendezvous for all interested in
the art of storytelling. One night a crowd gathered
in and one man told about a wonderful fish he
caught in Lough Neagh. I don’t remember how long
it was but it was beyond anything ever heard of.
“Ah” says Alec, “that’s nothing. I mind one time I
went out to Emy Loch to fish. I threw out the line
and waited. It wasn’t very long till I got a bite and
I pulled in but begob I was nearly pulled off my
feet into the water. I managed at last to get the
fish out, and a powerful one it was. Me wee terrier
was running round the fish and if it didn’t open its
big mouth and swallowed her.
“ Well a while after I went down to Emy to try me
luck again. I threw in the line, got a bite and then
the tussle began. The big fish pulled me up and
down the bank but I hung on and at last got it out
of the water. Then I out with me knife and ripped it
up the middle. Out jumped the terrier and three
pups and do you know what I’m going to tell you, if
it hadn’t been for the mother the pups would have
ate me”.
Market house lane is still to be seen round from the
Post Office. In days gone by a Fair was held in
Scarna but there was so much fighting and
brawling it was discontinued. I cannot vouch for
the truth of this story. There was a very old house
where the dispensary now stands. It belonged to
the Neills. The last owner told me the following
story. Two brothers and a sister of the Neill family
were living there in the early part of the last
century. They were in the habit of sitting up very
late. One night a knock came to the door. John, the
elder brother, opened it and there stood a traveller.
He asked if he might come in and wait for the stage
coach which passed through the town early in the
morning. John said “Surely” and soon the man was
sitting at the fire warming himself. He was badly in
need of food and rest and Margaret, the sister,
gave him some supper. As he ate, he said he was a
priest. The Neills took his word for it and they
made up a bed for him by the fire. When their guest
was asleep the Neills noticed his boots were badly
worn and as they were shoemakers they fell to and
soled them. Margaret washed and mended his
socks, which he had hung up to dry. When the
priest awoke in the morning he was more than
grateful and went on his way refreshed and rested.
The Glasslough road brings memories of Spring
time when the ditches were covered with
primroses. I still recall the thrill of finding a robin’s
nest in a bush hear the river.
In Summer the wild rose ran riot and the sweet-
scented woodbine was a delight especially after
rain fell.
The great attraction for children was the broad
river. In Summer it was almost dried up, and easily
crossed. The girls spent happy hours making
houses under the hawthorn bushes while the boys
went further up the river to try their luck at fishing
for sticklebacks. There was a wishing stone on the
far side of the river. The girls usually paid it a visit.
The procedure was – kiss the stone and make a
secret wish. The number of wishes was restricted
to three.
The ‘Wood’ is a short distance from the town and a
very beautiful spot it is in Summer time. It once
formed part of the Anketell estate. The river flows
through from the Bragan Mountains on to the town
on its way to the Blackwater. The ladies bathing
pool is still to be seen. A great tree overshadows
the river here and it certainly was an ideal place to
bathe in on a hot Summer day.
Half way between the wood and the town, at a fork
in the road, there stood an old house at the
beginning of the century. The Ogilvey family lived
here. It was the wash-house for the Anketells. The
old tubs were unearthed when the present owner
was rebuilding.
The Anketells have long since disappeared. The
estate, like so many more, has been divided up
among the tenants.
Yes, Emyvale, or Scarnageera, has certainly
changed since the day, when a beggar, who had
not fared very well in the town, looked back as he
crossed the bridge and exclaimed:
“Oh Emyvale , sweet Emyvale, if you were as free
from sin as you are from male (meal), you’d be the
happy Emyvale.”
Signed by A. Perrett.
It would be great if anyone could add to what is
written here by giving more information on the
families mentioned and site of the washhouse,
some info on A. Perrett, etc. etc. Let us know if you
can give us any more info and thanks to Angela for
sending me this.
There has been quite a response from emyvale.net
readers to this article and at the bottom of the
page we will include interesting additional
information - scroll down to read the added stories.
Additional information:
From Gerard and Patrick McKenna, via Joe Fields:
Francis ‘Baron’ Mc Kenna, Derrygasson, mentioned in the
article, was born abt 1827 and died there in 1899. He was
married to Catherine Mc Kenna born abt 1824 and died in
1904. Francis and Catherine had two daughters Bridget
‘Baron’ Mc Kenna b.1859 and Mary ‘Baron’ Mc Kenna
b.1861. Bridget married Bernard Gormley of the Gate
House, Cormeen on the Rossmore estate in Corracrin in
1880, and, Mary married Felix Fields of Mullaloughan in
1890. Descendants of the Fields family still live in
Derrygasson. Also, in the article Francis claimed that his
great great grandfather was a baron on the Leslie estate.
According to the Public Record Office Northern Ireland, on
the 7th of July 1733 an Edward Mc Kenna of Kilfahavon,
Co. Monaghan surrendered his lease of lands in Emy to
Robert Leslie of Castle Leslie.
In 1883 Philip Mc Kenna, Drogheda, who claimed descent
from Shane of Drumbanagher, was researching the Mc
Kenna’s and met with Edward Mc Kenna of Dernahinch,
called “The Baron” and took down the following
information:
Edward Mc Kenna of Dernahinch, “The Baron” aged 50 in
’83 | 1833
Son of Edward who died in 1854 aged |
1772
Son of James who died in 1817 aged 86 | 1731
Son of Patrick who lived at Kilfahavon |
1700
Son of Hugh -------------------------------------- | 1670
Son of Denis or Donohoe ---------------------------- |
1640
Son of Emonn or Edmund ------------------------- |
1610
Son of Ross ------------------------------------- | 1580
Son of Sleight Emonn Buidhe --------- | 1550
Edward of Dernahinch b.1833 married Anne Treanor. They
had seven children, Margaret, Edward, Joseph, Catherine,
Sarah, Ellen and Agnes. Margaret married Francis Mc
Cormack, publican, Emyvale and Ellen married Peter Mc
Phillips, Monaghan. (Irish Civil Records)
Other references to the ‘Baron’ Mc Kenna’s: Tithe
Applotment 1826
Patt Mc Kenna (Baron), Derryellen; James Mc Kenna
(Baron) Cavan Cope; Patt Mc Kenna (Baron), Kilfahavon
National Archives Netherlands: Patrick Baron de
MacKenna, Sargent in the Dutch army in 1764 registered
as being from ‘Skaranageragh’ and served in the Dutch
East Indies (Indonesia).
Francois Baron de Mackenna, Officer in the Dutch Military
1765.
Edward Baron de MacKenna, ‘Kilvaleven’ (Kilfahavon?),
married Jacoba Catharina Keijser in Groningen in 1762
and married Adriana van Boxtel in Groningen in 1763. He
was a captain in the Prince of Orange grenadiers and
served in the Dutch East Indies.
Authors: Gerard Mc Kenna, Patrick Mac Cionnaith; Thanks
to Joseph Fields
Packie Hughes: Patrick Phillips better known as Paddy
was born 15/12/1880, learned his trade of
shoemaker/cobbler from his father John, living in a white
washed cottage which is where “Gort an Cobelera” is now
located in the village. In the late 40’s as a young boy
living opposite his home/workplace, I would spend many
evenings in his company, gobsmacked by his stories of
olden times. Relative to your recent extract from the
Northern Standard re. Emyvale, he told me that the ladies
from The Castle, (Anketells) up The Line, would access
the Ladies Pool via an underground tunnel of steps. Not
sure if this is true or not or if others have heard the same
story. Archeologists wanted !?
(Editor: You have brought back memories of those days
when I lived up there beside you and I also used visit
Paddy with his wee teapot light as his only light and his
workplace was also his kitchen and bedroom but his
stories were terrific.)
Patsy Brady: The last lines, quoted from ‘a beggar’,
according to my late father, is by Thomas ‘Dunty’ Kelly, a
well known Monaghan Town Crier and Bell Ringer, who
travelled to all fairs in the region in his day. Another one
one of his sayings re Emyvale went as follows: Oh
Emyvale , sweet Emyvale, Without either Church or
Steeple
In every dour (door) The door there stands a hoor,
Looking out at decent people .
Think he made his way on foot to the fairs , and waited at
the bridge hoping for a lift back to Town , and he usually
composed these pices as he waited on a lift . (Editor: he
was likely one of the men, mostly, who went about living
off hand-outs, and those who gave got a verse praising
their generosity but if refused his poem would criticise in
a very sharp manner.)
Patsy also had further information re. ‘Dunty’ Kelly as
follows:
A well known pub and bike shop combined in Glaslough
St, Monaghan, once ran a poetry competition, with a
bottle of whiskey as first prize. Entrants had to add a
second verse to their first, it went as follows:
In this Bee Hive, We're all alive, Good Whiskey makes us
funny
So if your dry Come in and try The flavour of our Honey.
Dunty Kelly won the whiskey, with this reply:
Oh yes I'm dry I'd love to try The flavour of your Honey
But if I go in The Bee might sting Because I've got no
money .
The name of the pub / bike shop was The Bee Hive, and
the then owner, as far as I recall, was an AJ Murphy. P
Brady.
Editor: thanks to Patsy and Packie for that great
additional info. The site of the ‘Wash-house has been
identified as has the writer of the piece for the Northern
Standard and we will have more on this later.