Founded on Fear Page 5

  When they had left I noticed Mother was crying. She always cried when there was no food, but we had enough to last two days. Mick had brought home a stone of flour and tea and sugar. Joe had bought a few stones of potatoes with the money he made from collecting bottles, jam jars and rabbit skins. Mother looked at me and said, ‘they are coming to bring ye away on Monday’. It had been completely forgotten about, at least no one ever mentioned it. I was hoping, said Mother, that we could be all together at Christmas. We have been promised a goose. I had a letter from Mr Costello saying he was thankful for the work Dad had done, and would bring the goose on Christmas Eve. Last Christmas was the worst ever. We had nothing except the can of flour which Mother borrowed from Mrs Cosgrove. Mother went early next morning and asked the Parish Priest if we could be allowed to remain at home for Christmas. The P.P. promised to do his best. On the following Monday a Civic Guard called and said that we would not be taken away for another month. The time now seemed to fly, the days came and went like minutes. The goose did arrive on Christmas Eve. We got £3 from the States. My Mother, Jack and I went to the village, with the donkey and cart. We bought more groceries than I had ever seen before, in addition to a double supply of tea, sugar, bread, flour, butter and jam. We also bought cutlery. We got cups and saucers and nine mugs. Jack reminded Mother that as we would be leaving home soon, we didn’t need so many mugs. That made Mother cry which spoiled everything. On the way home we met many friends, including Mrs Linard, Mrs White and Kate Tulley. Mrs Linard invited Jack and I to call before we left home.

  When we turned off the main road to go down the boreen, the cart wheels got stuck in the mud, it was always bad this time of the year, and we had to get off the cart and lift it bodily out of some of the deep holes. We were an hour late getting home. When Mother mentioned the condition of the boreen to Dad he promised to repair it immediately after the New Year. He then went on to explain in detail to the two neighbours the way in which he planned to carry out the repairs. First of all the boreen would have to be cleaned, all the mud would be shovelled away, and then the holes filled with small stones from the quarry. As the boreen was two hundred yards long, about twenty tons of coarse sand was needed. Dad knew where he could buy coarse sand at one shilling and six pence a ton.

  I am sure Dad really intended to carry out the work. I think he believed what he said, but he just couldn’t tackle anything at home. I have seen a concrete floor he made for Beck White, a new door for James Spellman and a wooden gate for the Dillons. He cured Nolan’s cow when she broke a leg. When Mitchell’s horse fell into a bog hole the whole village turned out to give a hand, but after many unsuccessful attempts, my father who was asleep by the fire, when told about the trouble didn’t even wait to put on his coat. He done the job in one hour, the horse was in perfect health when released. It was common knowledge that Dad was the best judge of cattle or horses in the district. Only a few months ago Paddy Linard asked Dad to go to town with him, as he wanted to buy two young pigs.

  The kitchen was now full of smoke, it was difficult to recognise anyone. We were sitting on small stools which James and Paddy had made by simply getting a very straight branch of a tree and cutting it into short blocks about nine inches long. Paddy Linard told Mother it was dangerous to sit on the damp floor, and it would spoil our new clothes. We were now having tea with plenty of bread and jam. Mother said we could have as much sugar as we wanted, it was good to drink tea from a new mug with a handle. The other day I burned my fingers when holding the jam-jar of tea. The following day was Christmas. We were up earlier than usual because it was fine and warm. I liked fine weather because I could wander through the fields. Jack and I would go to Tulley’s to see the foal and the lambs, old Pat Tully never set the dog after us, as did the Cartys.

  Mother said she would cook the dinner outside to-day because she was sick of that dark smoky hole. Mick said he would knock a big hole in the wall after Christmas, right next to where Dad usually sits, so that he would have to do something about the windows. When we arrived home, dinner was ready to serve. I found it difficult to use the knife and fork for the first time, so I just ate with my fingers. The goose was boiled with onions, and the soup, which was served in mugs, was delicious. It was by far the best meal we ever had, and I can never remember eating so much. After dinner, Dad prayed out loud and thanked God for everything he had sent us. He asked God to be merciful and kind to his children in their new Catholic home.

  Early one morning about two weeks later a loud knock came to the door. It was the Civic Guards. They waited outside, until we had breakfast. I remember well, my Mother washing my face with the dishrag, and telling me not to be lonely. She was saying between sobs that we were going to nice Christian people, she promised to write often and would send us a homemade cake with raisins and currants. She would be able to come and see us perhaps in a year, if God wills it. We were now ready to go, that is six of us. My two eldest brothers and sister as well as the baby remained at home. We were now going up the boreen. I could hear the screams of Mother and Dad. Something dreadful had now happened. Mother was running to try and catch up with us when she stumbled and fell to the ground. Mother had been bad on her legs since baby was born. She was now being assisted to her feet by a kindly policeman. We had now reached the police car, which was an old Ford. It was parked on the main road as the boreen was too narrow. The distance to Ballinasloe was four and a half miles. We sat on the policemen’s knees.

  We were served with tea on arrival at the barracks, and then Joe was sent across the road to buy sweets. I wondered why everyone had cried because to me, it was all so exciting, something quite new, an adventure. We were now having great fun, the guards were marching us up and down the barracks. I wondered then why people should be afraid of the police. I thought they were so good and kind. Dinner was now being served by a kindly middle-aged lady.

  After dinner we were given more sweets, and a lady now arrived to take us to Galway. It was the same person who first came to our house several months before. We were now all lined up in the barracks, the guards and the cook were saying goodbye. Four, that is Joe, Paddy, Jack and I went to the station, Larry and Martin were too young to go to the Christian Brothers, so they remained in the barracks overnight, and were taken to the nuns’ convent at Kilkenny the following day. The journey to Galway was not unpleasant. I remember Joe who was then thirteen years old, asking the lady who was our escort, how she could write a letter with the rocking of the train.

  My thoughts now went back to what my Mother had said to me one evening when we were alone. She talked about her own home life in Roscommon before the match was made. This seemed very strange to me, because I could not think of her being anywhere else. I had imagined her to have been always in the village of Cappagh with Dad. Mother told me how when she was about twenty-four years old, her father brought her to the October fair at Ballinasloe and in the presence of a man called a matchmaker an agreement was reached to the effect that she would marry a man called James Tyrrell on a certain date. Mother explained to me what it was like, coming to Cappagh, after leaving a good home. Her house was of two stories and whitewashed. She had twenty acres of good land, in front of the house was a beautiful garden, with apple trees, there was a spring well less than a hundred yards from her back door. In Cappagh we had to travel over a mile for water.

  I no longer felt any love for my Father. I never spoke to him again unless it was necessary. From then onwards I thought of him as the man who hurt Mother, the man who brought my Mother from a beautiful home to a filthy stable. I thought of Dad as an irresponsible person, who ruined Mother’s life and changed her from a beautiful girl into a crippled old woman.

  The train had now reached Galway station and we were taken in charge by a Christian Brother called Dooley.

  2

  First Year at School

  We are now on our way to Clifden by train. Brother Dooley is talking to Joe, he is friendly and asking a lot of questions about our ho
me and parents, have we ever been to school? What standards were we in, our age, etc. I notice his hands, they are blue, he is probably cold. Every time I look at Brother Dooley he seems to be looking at me, so I just look away or look on the floor. He now takes off his hat and places it on the seat, he is very bald, I never seen anyone without a single hair on his head before. Brother Dooley now speaks to Jack and I. He said he is happy because we are so young there will be plenty of time for us to go to school, and learn a trade. It’s a pity he said, that Joe can only spend a year at school. He would then go to the baker’s shop.

  He told us that we may find everything strange for a week or two, we would have to live with very many other lads just like ourselves. We would attend Mass every morning at seven o’clock. Paddy now said we usually went to eleven o’clock mass at home, and added that if we go to seven o’clock we would have to get up in the middle of the night. At this, Brother Dooley laughed. It was good to see him laugh. He was much too sad looking. Perhaps, you went to bed late at home said he. Joe answered we couldn’t go to bed until the neighbours left the kitchen, because we slept on the kitchen floor. Brother Dooley asked what time the neighbours left. Paddy answered and said we didn’t have a clock.

  The train was now slowing down. We had reached Clifden. The place looked strange, at home, the fields were flat but here the land was hilly and there wasn’t much grass. There was a nice man now taking us to a waiting car, it was the same kind of car in which we had travelled to the police station. It must have been late now, but it wasn’t too dark as we travelled along the road we seemed to climb hills all the time and then down the other side. There were mountains all round us, and we could see beautiful streams and waterfalls.

  When I seen the water I felt dry. I asked Brother Dooley if I could have a drink from the waterfall, and he said we would be at Letterfrack in half an hour. It seemed ages before we arrived at the school. We had to stop once because there were goats on the road which reminded me of our own goat at home. I then remembered the time several years before when the goat attacked my young brother. We decided to cut her horns off, we caught her and took her into the kitchen. We all stood around holding the goat while my Mother started cutting the first horn with the saw. What happened now made Mother scream, she cut too near the head and the horn started to bleed. We were all now afraid, and Mother said her prayers.

  The motorcar was now stopped as we had reached the monastery where the Christian Brothers lived. We had tea in the master’s room, and then were taken to the infirmary and given a bath by the nurse. We slept in the infirmary that night and had our breakfast next morning there. There were two big boys ill in bed, one was called John Cane, a shoe maker, and ‘Scykey’. I think ‘Scykey’ was a nickname, and he was suffering from an injured leg.

  Brother Dooley had now arrived and said he would give us a change of clothing. My brothers asked to be allowed to keep their own suits which were quite new. Brother Dooley informed us that it was against the school rules for any boy to keep his own suit, so we had to give up our nice American clothes. We were given suits which we did not like, they were made from very tough material like a blanket.

  We were now taken down a hill towards the school, on our right was the monastery, and next to the monastery, several men were engaged in cutting down trees, where the new chapel was to be built. We continued down, on our left was the glasshouse. Brother Dooley explained that fruit and vegetables grew there all the year round. I was very interested in the green tomatoes which I thought were apples. Sixty yards further we came to the new building, where the electric power house and laundry were, upstairs was the very young children’s dormitory. We now climbed about a dozen steps. This was the terrace. On the left was the water pump, on the right was the bakehouse, next door was the tailor’s shop, next the shoemaker’s, the carpenter’s, the blacksmith’s, the mechanic’s shop. Next was the room where articles were made from plywood and were cut out with a fret saw machine. Next door was the darning and knitting room and the last room was the office where the superior and the office Brother worked. We will turn about to go back down again, on our right is the gymnasium and next-door is the wheelwright’s shop. Another twenty yards now and we are back on the terrace, there is a gate at each end, and steps going down to the yard where the children carry out physical training drill and games. As we stand on the terrace, we can see a hundred and sixty boys, some of them are playing handball, others are playing ‘tig’, but the majority are just standing about, some leaning against the wall.

  Now all at once a Christian Brother comes running out, he is chasing the young children with a very long stick and beating them on the backs of the legs. We can now hear the screams of the little boys, some of them are only six years old. We are now frightened and struck with horror. We looked at Brother Dooley, he explained that the children get lazy and they just stand about or lean against the wall.

  We are now taken down the steps to the yard or playground. I am now very lonely and frightened. Most of the children are terribly pale, and their faces are drawn and haggard. They are not like the children at home in Ahascragh school. They were always happy and smiling. The children of Letterfrack are like old men, most of their eyes are sunk in their heads and are red from crying. Their cheek-bones are sticking out. Joe now said, look at their hands. There was a boy of about my age (eight) the backs of his hands were terribly swollen, they were just a red mass of raw flesh. Brother Dooley explained that it was chilblains, which were caused by the cold, and not taking sufficient exercise.

  We were reminded that we may be the same unless we played and ran about. We now came to a boy of nine years, he was leaning against the wall, they called him ‘Caleba’ he was holding his hands loosely in front of the body, he was apparently asleep. There was another boy, beating him with a stick, to try and keep him awake. A boy now came running past us, he was about ten years old. He had very fair hair and was wearing glasses as he was almost blind, he was being chased by the same Christian Brother we seen earlier, beating the children. We were told his name was Brother Walsh, he was hitting the fair haired boy across the back and the legs with a heavy stick. Brother Dooley told us that this boy had a lazy mind and it was hoped that the beating would make him think like normal children.

  Brother Walsh now blew his whistle, and we all lined up, in what was called divisions. I was put with the second youngest division or number thirteen table in the Refectory (Dining Room). We were now marched off to school. Jack and I were put in the infants, as we had not been to school very much at home. Paddy was in second standard and Joe in third. Brother Walsh was in charge of our school, that is infants, first and second standards. Mr McAntaggart, the band-master, taught the infants, Brother Walsh the first and second.

  The infants had no desks, but would stand around the blackboard, we were given a slate and slate pencil. It was the custom not to punish children the first day. McAntaggart was himself an ex-industrial school inmate from Artane. He did not beat the children very severely but slapped them on the hands with the drumstick, after every subject, or in the case of sums, after each sum, if the answer was incorrect. I had not been very long in the school, probably a few weeks, when Brother Kelly came into the classrooms, and told McAntaggart that in future the infants should use the bandroom as there was a fire there (Brother Kelly was then the office Brother).

  After school we had lunch at about one o’clock, lunch consisted of a bowl of soup and two potatoes, the following day, we had a small slice of meat, two potatoes and a spoonful of peas or cabbage. Some days we also got half a slice of bread. After lunch unless we were detailed for washing up, we had half an hour’s recreation. At two o’clock boys went to their respective workshops or farms, the very young children would be under Mr Griffin, or work in the darning and knitting room. Mr Griffin taught us to tease the hair or fibre which went into the mattresses. This fibre came to us in ropes and had to be loosened up bit by bit with the fingers. This work was normally done in the
Gymnasium, when the hair fibre was well teased it was then put into sacks and delivered to the tailor’s shop, where mattresses were made.

  Boys left the workshop at five o’clock for one hour recreation, and school again from six until seven. We then had supper, which consisted of a mug of cocoa (unsweetened) and one and a half slices of bread and margarine. After supper we played for half an hour and then went to the schoolroom to say the Rosary. We were in bed by eight thirty. The following morning, we were called at six a.m. We went to the washroom where soap and water was provided. After having washed we were lined up to be inspected. Those who did not wash their head, face, neck and arms correctly, were beaten on the hands by Brother Walsh, who was in charge of St Michael’s Dormitory. We then got dressed and paraded downstairs in the school, to say our morning prayers, before going to the chapel to Mass. After Mass we were marched to the yard, and sometimes would do drill. At other times, we were allowed to play until eight o’clock, when we would have breakfast of cocoa and one and a half slices of brown or white bread.

  On Sunday we got tea with sugar. Sunday was a day devoted almost entirely to religious education or prayers, except for two hours in the afternoon, when we went to the football field to play football. As there was no school in the normal sense, on Sundays, we were not beaten as much as on weekdays, except by Brother Walsh who would sneak out of his room which was at the end of St Michael’s Dormitory. He would listen, or look through the key hole, and anyone who was talking or out of bed was taken away, and beaten naked. About ten or fifteen boys were picked out each Sunday, at about 6.30 a.m. The reason why some of the children were awake was because we normally got up at 6 a.m. during the week. Brother Walsh normally used a leather strap, but on Sunday he preferred a stick and heavy cane.