Bray Railway Station Murals

In a recent post I gave some examples of public art which can be seen on the railway station at Bray, Co Wicklow. I think this subject deserves a more comprehensive airing, so here we go! Just to recap, murals were originally painted here by Jay Roche and John Carter, who won a competition in 1987. Over the years the paintings deteriorated, and were replaced by the same team – assisted by Anthony Kelly and Eileen Maguire – with a very fine set of tiled murals. I’m recording the rest of these in this post, as I am so impressed by the overall work.

Each panel represents a decade in the line’s history. You’ll have to decide for yourselves which decade is which . . .

If only that newspaper headline was really true!

From Wiki Commons 2007: A Panel for Every Decade since 1850s in Bray Railway Station. These are the painted murals.

(Above) some of the painted murals in a fairly advanced state of decay: probably early 2000s. The tiled murals are loosely based on the subjects of the originals, but the artists have respected the variations that the change of medium calls out for:

I mentioned – in Taking Notes – that Brunel was responsible for the line that runs through Bray. Here he is, standing on Bray Station:

And here (above) – also one of the tiled murals on Bray Station – is a portrait of William Dargan. As you can see – considered ‘Father of the Irish Railways’ – Dargan lived from 1799 to 1867. He engineered over 1300 km of railways in Ireland. Working firstly in the UK he was an assistant to Thomas Telford, and oversaw the construction of roads and canals in the Midlands. He returned to Ireland in the 1820s and took an interest in promoting railways here. The first public commuter railway system in Ireland was designed and built by Dargan: it opened in 1834 and ran between Dublin and Kingstown, now Dún Laoghaire. The line as built was ‘standard gauge’ (ie 1,453mm between rails). This was converted to the ‘Irish standard’ of 1,600mm in 1857. The line extended south to Bray in 1854, and to Greystones the following year.

Isambard Kingdom Brunel, an engineer of Britain’s Great Western Railway, informed the Dublin and Kingstown Railway board that he was planning to build a line into South Wales and start a new sea route from Fishguard to Rosslare. He suggested a joint venture for a line from Wexford to Dublin. A coastal route from Bray (rather than inland) was chosen specifically because it would be scenically attractive for travellers. This led to engineering difficulties including tunnels and retaining structures which are still evolving to this day.

Brunel’s vision of a line going from the capital to Wexford and linking with a service of Irish Sea ferries has been fully realised, and is taken for granted. Let’s hope that this line is maintained and continues on far into the future.

I hope you have noticed how the design of the rolling stock has been changing as we go back through the decades. The representation on these murals is accurate, as far as I can see.

I was sorry to miss the sight of restored steam locomotives and carriages coming through Bray and Greystones on Sunday 24 September this year. Here’s a previous Steam Express visit to Wicklow in 2022 (courtesy Irish Independent):

Here in the West we did have some very singular railway lines – look at these posts: The Great Southern Railway: Headford Junction to Kenmare; Aspects of Baltimore; The Flying Snail and Tracking the Trains. Sadly, it’s no longer possible to travel by train in our region: all lines west of Cork City closed on 31 March 1961. Before that you could get to Skibbereen, Ballydehob, and Schull, Bantry and Baltimore and even, on a little branch line, to Timoleague and Courtmacsherry. Don’t we miss those opportunities?

Leap and its Scarecrows

There’s a village in West Cork called Leap – say “Lepp”. Where does that name come from? As is often the case in Ireland, it all starts with a story . . .

Tradition had it that St Patrick never went west of Leap (in Irish that’s Léim Uí Dhonnabháin, which translates literally as The Leap of O’Donovan), and that’s the sign at the entrance to the village, above. It was St Ciarán of Cape Clear who did all the converting in our part of the world: read about him here. So when The O’Donovan, pursued by British soldiers ‘leaped’ over the deep gorge which you can still see to this day, he was escaping into a much wilder country. The gorge (this is as it looks today – below) divides the West from East Carbery. So difficult was it to pass “beyond the leap” in those old days, that it was said: “beyond the leap, beyond the law”.

Apart from O’Donovans Leap, the village is celebrated today for its associations with Hallowe’en, Ghosts, and Scarecrows. And we are approaching the time of year when these phenomena come to the fore. At the present time, a few shopfronts are being decorated, but there are plenty of Scarecrows waiting in the wings for their moment to arrive!

You can see that Leap – in West Cork – will be worth a visit once the festivities are in full swing: that will be between Monday 23 October and Sunday 5 November this year. Back in 2015 we visited the Leap Scarecrow Festival and wrote this post about it (click here). Interestingly, it became the most popular post we had published up to that time – it’s had around 3,250 views since it first appeared. Have a look at it now – but also remember to go to the village of Leap at the end of this month!

St Michael

For a part of my life I lived in the west of Cornwall, looking out over St Michael’s Mount (above). Back in the 5th century, the Archangel himself appeared to fishermen on that rock. Legend has it that the Mount was constructed by giants and, also, King Arthur battled and defeated a giant there. As you all know, we have just passed Michaelmas – the day of the saint – September 29th.

There is another ‘St Michael’s Mount’ on the coast of Brittany: Mont St Michel (above, from an old lantern slide). I have mixed memories of that place, having gone there on a school trip when I was twelve: I had all my hard-saved pocket money stolen from me in one of the little winding lanes that goes up to the summit. Michael is the patron saint of high places, so expect to find him on pinnacles.

This St Michael’s church is certainly in a high place. It’s at Hammerfest in Norway, and has the distinction of being geographically the highest church in the world! (image by Manxruler)

I asked Finola if there was very much in the way of St Michael imagery in Irish stained glass. There’s a fair bit: on the left, above, is a Watsons of Youghal image of the Archangel in his role as weigher of souls. He stands at the gates of Heaven waiting for you on Judgment Day with his scales in his hand. Often, beside him, angels hold up two books: the smaller one records the names of the blessed, while the larger book is a list of the damned… On the right is our friend George Walsh’s depiction of Michael defeating Satan, who here takes the form of an impressive dragon.

This St Michael is very local to us: it’s in Teampall Church at Toormore, and is by Clokey of Belfast (Finola’s photo). Look carefully and you’ll see the Saint pinning down the fire-breathing Devil.

Also in my distant youth I was an ephemeral chaser of ley-lines: I have since thought better of it, but the idea of a straight line starting in Ireland and connecting seven St Michael sites while traversing Europe and Greece was attractive, and fleetingly convincing. Of course, there are many more Michael sites scattered around the Christian world which don’t fall anywhere near this line.

. . . As with other ley lines, no scientific evidence indicates that the alignment was planned and meaningful, making the claim pseudoscientific, but commonly reported at these sites. Physicist Luca Amendola noted that the deviation of these sites from the loxodrome that allegedly connects them ranges between 14 km and 42 km. According to legend the Sacred Line of Saint Michael the Archangel represents the blow the Saint inflicted the Devil, sending him to hell. Some also say that it is a reminder from Saint Michael that the faithful are expected to be righteous, walking the straight path . . .

Wikipedia

It’s nice to see that the phenomenon starts (or finishes) at Skellig Micheal, off the coast of Kerry (pic below courtesy of OPW):

Here’s an interesting view of the three somewhat feminine Archangels painted by Francesco Botticini in 1470. Michael is on the left. With them is Tobias who, in the popular Biblical tale, overcomes obstacles as he and his heavenly guardians set out to discover a cure for his father Tobit’s blindness. They are successful, for Tobias returns with a cure for his father as well as a wife!

I couldn’t resist this wonderful image of a St Michael’s site (from Wikipedia). It is the tenth-century Sacra di San Michele on Mount Pirchiriano in Italy. It also happens to be on the Saint’s ley-line!

I’ll finish this little review of St Michael where I started – off the coast of Cornwall. This 1920s postcard of the Mount, from a painting by A R Quinton, sums up the romantic image which I still carry from my days lived on that coast.

Taking Notes

Regular readers will know that I am always on the lookout, in Ireland, for signs of all kinds. They may be humorous, informative or historical – like the one above. This is on the railway station in Bray, County Wicklow. Back in 1987 a competition to design painted murals to enhance the station platforms was won by Jay Roche and John Carter, who produced 19 panels to illustrate the railway through its history.

As you can see from this picture of Bray Station taken yesterday, the panels certainly brighten up this much-used civic concourse.

. . . Each panel is like a window into the past that tells a story about the people, dress or time of the mural. One mural signifying the 1920s, makes reference to a man in a Black and Tan uniform.  On the website Mural to Mosaic, which chronicles the progress of the project, the artists state they are trying to show that dramatic events were unfolding around that significant time in Irish history . . .


The Daily Edge Newsletter 2012

You’ll have noticed that the panels are now made of mosaic. The painted originals suffered from wear and deterioration and the same artists, assisted by Anthony Kelly and Eileen Maguire, have in recent times transformed all of them into the new medium. I think the result of the earlier concept and its newer manifestation are excellent, and provide a great visual diversion for anyone waiting for a train or a Dart (Dublin Area Rapid Transport). In fact, it’s worth missing a train in order to fully appreciate the artwork!

Isambard Kingdon Brunel is the engineer credited with planning the line which, in 1844, was intended to be ‘broad gauge’ all the way to Rosslare. Here he is in a Bray station mosaic, above. I’ll return to this railway in a future post as the full story of it is well worth the telling – even though it’s not West Cork (which, of course had its own interesting railway line).

Before leaving behind the railway, here’s a photo of Bray Head (courtesy of Irish Defence Forces) taken after a gorse fire in the summer of 2018. As well as the Bray to Greystones line you can see the outline of the EIRE sign that was put there in ‘the Emergency’: one of over 80 such signs dotted along the coast, it was a warning to aircraft of all persuasions that they were flying over neutral Ireland.

. . . The ‘Éire’ signs were erected around the Irish coastline from the summer of 1943 onwards, a period when overflights of Irish territory and forced landings of belligerent aircraft (mainly Allied) had increased dramatically. In keeping with the De Valera* government’s policy of discreetly co-operating with the Allies, Allied air crews who landed in Ireland were assumed to be ‘non-operational’, and therefore were not detained (a fact that the Germans noted with displeasure). It made more sense to all concerned, however, if such forced landings could be avoided and so the ‘Éire’ signs were erected to ensure that pilots knew that they were flying over Irish territory . . .

Royal Irish Academy Newsletter

*See our header pic for another reference to Dev!

The EIRE sign above is very clearly delineated: it’s on the cliffs at Toe Head, in ‘our’ County Cork.

This Post Office sign has been kept intact, probably for reasons of nostalgia. I’d doubt there are many today who would proudly proclaim that the sale of cigarettes is one of their mainstays.

(Above) – I couldn’t resist the enigma of this signwriting . . .

. . . But I think the one above leaves us in no doubt who it speaks to.

I’d like to understand the meaning of this Irish road name: one AI translator told me it is ‘thought position’, another ‘location avenue’ . . .

No comment on the two signs above. The following, however, provokes some questions – a window on someone’s world?

What world does this gate open up to?

Promises, promises . . . But I think they found it:

A Bantry Yole

The importance of West Cork in world history was emphasised today at the Ballydehob Cruinniú na mBád (Meeting of the Boats). This annual event reminds us how busy our quay was back in the day when all the commerce of the village was based on the tidal waters. Finola wrote about the gathering in 2017. But today – 19 August 2023 – I had my eye out for a very particular vessel: Fionnbara.

There she is – above – leaving Rossbrin Harbour today, bound for Ballydehob. And here she is being launched early this morning, using the boatyard’s lifting gear. Many thanks to Jack O’Keeffe – her Skipper – and Anne O’Keeffe for the great photos.

Above: ‘End of the Irish Invasion’ or ‘The Destruction of the French Armada’ by James Gilray 1797 (courtesy of the British Museum)

The boat is a replica – one of many around the world – of a craft which found its way to the shores of Bere Island – in West Cork – in 1796, after a disastrous escapade by the French navy, under the encouragement of Theobald Wolfe Tone of the Society of United Irishmen. A fleet of 43 vessels carrying 14,000 men headed for Bantry Bay intending to invade Ireland and declare it independent from Britain. Severe storms threw the ships off course and into disarray, and the opportunity was lost. During the chaos one of the French ships – La Résolue – lost her masts in a collision. Lt Proteau was sent in a ‘barge’ to find another ship to tow the frigate to safety, but instead he and his crew were driven ashore and captured. The ‘barge’ was taken as a prize of war and handed to the local Irish militia commander, Richard White of Bantry House. There it remained – gently rotting – for 148 years. In 1944 it was despatched to the National Maritime Museum in Dún Laoghaire and – after conservation – is now displayed at the Collins Barracks Museum. The ‘Bantry Bay Boat’, ‘Bantry Skiff’ or ‘Bantry Yole’, as the unusual craft is variously known, has attracted considerable attention and has inspired many boatbuilders to produce copies.

Below: upper – the Bantry Boat being transported from Bantry Railway Station to Dún Laoghaire in 1944; centre – plans of the original craft drawn by Paul Kerrington in 1977; lower – the original Bantry Bay Boat on display in the Collins Barracks Museum today (courtesy History Ireland – article by Lar Joye July/August 2018)

One of these copies is the Fionbarra, which arrived in Ballydehob today. The original was 11.64 metres long, 2.05 metres in beam, and a very fast boat. It was powered by ten oars or three sails, and could carry around ten passengers as well as the crew.

Ballydehob Bay today, 19th August 2023. The small boats are beginning to approach the old quay. With thanks to Finola for many of these photographs.

Building of the Fionbarra began in Waterford and was transferred to Meitheal Mara, a community boatbuilding venture based in Cork city. Construction was completed in 2008. We really appreciated the work of the team who transported her to West Cork and sailed her up the estuary today.

You may wonder why I have put in a header pic from across the Atlantic? This is to demonstrate the influence that the West Cork ‘Bantry Yole’ has had on the boating community all around the world. Atlantic Challenge International was founded in 1984 as a maritime training trust, and its activities are largely based on replicas of the 1796 Bantry craft. As a consequence there are relatives of the Fionbarra in many countries. I understand that there are currently at least 80 such replicas, spread over four continents, in the present day.

This link gives further information about The Atlantic Challenge

Nelson’s Arch

This is the inlet at Castlehaven, looking towards Castletownshend. It’s a peaceful scene. Finola and I were in the village at the weekend, showing groups around the church and the graveyard: it was a West Cork History Festival event. Very recently, I came across a reference to a structure that used to stand looking over this inlet: it was known as Nelson’s Arch. Here’s a watercolour print dating from the early nineteenth century . . .

It looks like part of a ruined building. In fact, this is how it appeared when built! It’s a folly, but with a purpose. It commemorated the death of Britain’s Admiral Nelson, and the defeat of the French fleet at the Battle of trafalgar in 1805. Dennis Kennedy researched the arch and wrote an article about it for History Ireland, in January 2016. here’s a brief extract:

This arch . . . was the first monument erected anywhere in the world to the victor of Trafalgar, Admiral Lord Nelson. It was completed twenty days after the battle, and less than a week after the first news of it reached these islands. The artist, and the builder, was Captain Joshua Rowley Watson RN, then stationed in Castletownshend as the naval officer in command of a large force of Irish Sea Fencibles defending that section of the west Cork coastline against possible French invasion. On hearing of the victory at Trafalgar and the death of Nelson, Captain Watson designed and built, in one day, the rough stone arch . . .

Dennis kennedy, History Ireland Issue 1, Volume 24

I can’t tell you for sure where this arch was constructed, only that it ‘looked out over the harbour at Castletownshend’. I am speculating that the site was where I have indicated in the above aerial view. My reason for suggesting this is that is an old archaeological record shown on the earliest Ordnance Survey maps states that ‘a structure’ existed at this spot. Evidently a plaque (now lost) was placed on the ‘structure’ setting out its origin:

. . . This arch, the first monument erected to the memory of Nelson after the battle of Trafalgar, was sketched and planned by Captain Joshua Rowley Watson RN, and built by him and twelve hundred of the Sea Fencibles then under his command (assisted by eight masons). It was erected in five hours on the 10th of November 1805 . . .

Dennis kennedy, History Ireland Issue 1, Volume 24

The idea of twelve hundred men – and eight masons – building this structure is hard to ponder. The Battle of Trafalgar took place on 21 October 1805. Subsequently, of course, two further notable monuments to Nelson were erected: the column in Trafalgar Square, London, was completed in 1843 to a design by the architect William Railton at a cost of £47,000. It’s still standing, guarded by its four bronze lions, which were added by Sir Edward Landseer in 1867. Its height (to the tip of Nelson’s hat!) is 51.59 metres. But Dublin City Centre also had a Nelson’s ‘column’:

This structure in today’s O’Connell Street was made by Cork sculptor Thomas Kirk. From its opening on 29 October 1809 the 40.9 metre high Pillar was a popular visitor attraction, as it contained a staircase which could be climbed by the public, and which provided a wide view over the city centre. The London column – built from Dartmoor granite – was never provided with a staircase, but it’s a ‘must-see’ tourist destination. It’s actually the only extant monument to Nelson: having survived the rising on Easter Monday, 24 April 1916 – when the nearby General Post Office was reduced to a burnt-out shell, (below) – Dublin’s Pillar succumbed to an attack – probably by dissident volunteers – on 8 March 1966 . . .

In the early hours of a Tuesday morning, a powerful explosion destroyed the upper portion of the Pillar and brought Nelson’s statue crashing to the ground amid hundreds of tons of rubble. An IRA spokesman denied involvement, stating that they had no interest in demolishing mere symbols of foreign domination: “We are interested in the destruction of the domination itself” (quote from the Irish Independent newspaper). According to Kennedy’s History Ireland article, our Nelson’s Arch at Castletownshend suffered a similar fate only a few days later, in March 1966. There must be many West Cork residents who remember the arch when it stood (and when it fell). I have only managed to find the photograph that Kennedy used in his piece:

Compare this with the watercolour sketch: it obviously survived virtually unchanged during its lifetime of 161 years. To my knowledge no-one has laid claim to destroying the structure. But the motivation – disgruntlement at a brazen symbol of British imperialism – was undoubtedly the same as the Dublin Pillar destruction. If anyone is able to provide further information on the life and death of Nelson’s Arch, Castletownshend, we would be delighted to add it here.