ROSCOMMON AS IT WAS by George N Geraghty
Before his death in 1953, George N. Geraghty wrote extensively about his memories of life in Roscommon Town (and environs) in the early years of the 20th century….the Roscommon People intends to serialise these fascinating memories
The Regatta
The regattas held at Galey Bay on the Shannon those days were swell affairs…the British Military Band from Athlone was there. Two large marquees were erected and refreshments of all sorts served to the elite. I was present at one regatta. Burke’s yacht was competing in a race, young Lawrence Burke was the skipper. I was just a few yards away from his father. I can picture him now looking through his field glasses as his yacht goes by to win the race and then he falls to the ground never to rise again. Dead.
‘Dirty cabins…and new CBS’
Photo courtesy of Albert Siggins/‘They Put The Flag A-Flyin’’ (book)
Well, here I am (above) wandering away from Abbeytown to Galey Bay. I find myself back again where I can see the row of dirty thatched cabins stretching from the parson’s gate to Darby Mannion’s Corner. The landlords of those cabins were the Burkes of The Abbey and Mrs. P. Melia, who owned the Ball Alley and a small thatched public house. As the cabin rent was very small, the landlords declared they could not afford to do any repairs. As a result, the little dwellings became an eyesore and created a very bad impression on any strangers entering Roscommon by train. That is all changed now. And the people of Roscommon ought to be very proud of the Christian Brothers’ new school, erected on the site of those poor cabins. It should not be forgotten that the late Dean Cummins was responsible (indirectly) for this change as he secured the site from Mrs. Melia. And his intention at the time was to have an up to date terrace of houses built there. But fate decreed otherwise, and now it is in good keeping and may God prosper the new CB schools.
Stag Hunts
Opposite the schools stands the Old Infirmary Hospital and Doctor’s residence. Dr. Blakeney was then House Surgeon. He kept the residence in great trim. He loved horses and his wife was one of the finest riders at the Stag Hunts then held in Roscommon. The hunts in those bygone days were great affairs. Up to fifty lovely hunters and a splendid pack of hounds would meet in the courthouse yard. The hounds were kennelled at Carrowroe Park, then owned by the Burkes. A horse van conveying two stags would proceed to Lenabane racecourse. One stag would be released and, as a rule, headed for Cloverhill. The hounds were then brought into the field and immediately took up the scent of the stag, and away went horses, riders and dogs helter-skelter over ditches and stone walls and for dash and courage the Roscommon huntsmen could hold their own.
I well remember how we living in the town would mount the highest parts of the old castle to view the hunt and on one occasion we were amply rewarded for our trouble. The stag turned back and headed for the water in the lough which on this particular day was in full flood from the old castle to Pat Smyth’s house.
The stag plunged into the water and the hounds swam after it. When the hounds got near the stag it lashed out with its hind legs and some of the hounds got it ‘in the neck’. The stag managed to swim ashore and raced up through Michael Hanly’s garden, out through the yard gate, on to the market square and into O’Connor’s boot shop, jumped over the counter into a small storeroom at the back of the shop and there it got protection from Pat Diffley, then in charge of the boot shop. The door was closed and the stag saved for another day.
‘A skull was on the table’
The region from the Railway Bridge to the Infirmary was known as Abbeytown and Abbey Street extended from Darby Mannion’s Corner to the courthouse. From Darby’s Corner to Mrs. Harris Cahill’s had another group of small, thatched houses, in bad repair, on both sides of the street. The site from Edward Curley’s to Mrs. O’Donnell’s was taken over by the new District Council and the present cottages were erected. This was one step in the right direction, but the other side of the street presented a horrible sight – dilapidated hovels. The Masonic Hall dominated this area. It was looked on then as a mystery building, and at the meetings of the members of the Lodge it was understood that ‘Old Nick’ would appear and give instructions to the members present. What I do know is a skull was on the table during the meetings, and that Tommie Robinson, who was caretaker of the Lodge, kept watch on the door leading to the ‘sanctified’ room. He wore an apron with the Masonic sign on it, and a short sword, ready to prevent anyone entering.
Snow melts away, and so did every member of this Freemason Lodge. Not a trace of any of them or any one of the names remains. The same building is now a peaceful dwellinghouse, with happy children romping through the rooms that were supposed to house Old Nick.
