Opinion a handwritten letter and some folksy weather sayings
My last column in this paper was, in a rather meandering way, bemoaning the decline of the hand written letter.
And, lo and behold, what did I receive a few days later? The very thing I had not received from my friendly postie since my beloved grand-aunt died in 2009.
Interestingly, it came from the headquarters of the postal system in Ireland, the GPO in Dublin, a place indelibly linked with our history and heritage that is set to be centre stage at the 1916 commemorations next year.
In beautiful old-style handwriting that wouldn’t have been out of place with the scribes of the last century, Stephen Ferguson from An Post - who I’ve since heard talking eloquently about the GPO’s place in Irish history on the always excellent 'Talking History’ programme on Newstalk, (incidentally presented by Moate man Patrick Geoghegan) - agreed sadly that the handwritten letter is certainly in decline.
But he was keen to bring to my attention a story from the age when everything was handwritten.
What an interesting one it proved, uncovering a personal and intriguing story linking rural Cavan with India’s North Western provinces.
In 2011, an item of rare philatelic (that’s stamp collectors to you and me) importance came up for auction at a Dublin sale. It was a letter bearing two Penny Black stamps and was posted in Dublin on May 8, 1840.
For stamp or history fans this date is exciting; it proves the very first usage of the Penny Black on an Irish letter.
While it is neither very scarce nor valuable, there are few stamps as well known in the public consciousness as the Penny Black.With the classic side profile of Queen Victoria on black paper, it is recognised as the world’s first postage stamp, and its invention is credited with having a massive effect on education and literacy, well beyond the immediate benefit of simplified accounting which it brought to the network of post offices.
Prior to this, postage rates were a cumbersome affair involving the distance the letter would travel, the number of paper sheets, plus bizarrely, they were actually paid by recipient rather than the sender, the cost of which was out of reach to the general populace.
Examining the actual letter itself, though, was just as interesting as the background to postal reforms history and the Penny Black stamp.
It was written by Frederick Fitzpatrick, who was the rector in Shercock, Co. Cavan, and neighbouring parishes throughout his life. An educated man with some stature in the community, he also served as Justice of the Peace for the area - a position that would have ensured he wrote and received many letters during the period.
Indeed, the post was very important to the Fitzpatricks, the commemorative booklet maintains, as over the years it preserved family connections in places well beyond Ireland to Britain, Belgium and as far away as India where a son of his once worked in the East India Company.
On the face of it, the hastily scribbled letter about a legal matter is just a business note but research into its background shows its importance for Irish postal history and gives some interesting windows into the social history of an old family of bygone era to whom the humble letter was a window into the wider world.
Isn’t there a grand stretch in the evening?
Everyone knows we Irish are weather obsessed. I think every person has the guts of a book in them on the topic, but a recent enjoyable reading of the 'Home Farm’ column by John Heslin in this very paper set me thinking about old weather sayings and rhymes.
The county footballer was recounting putting cattle out on a field and later that evening hearing his father proclaim: “The moon is lying on its back, we may have to bring them cattle in”.
And so they did, much to his amazement, the moon lying on its back being a quicker reliable indicator of poor weather than TV’s Martin King forecasts.
Farmers more than anybody are custodians of this type of folklore, being so reliant on what the weather is doing for their everyday survival.
Their acute awareness of nature and subtle daily changes are a joy to chat about, especially the older generation, who are a mine of information for the rest of us who are more used to consulting weather apps for predictors.
Indeed, I think we’re really in danger of losing this treasure trove of knowledge and poetic weather fun in years to come if we don’t pay a bit more heed.
For instance, an old guy I knew at home had a ritual of measuring the location of the sun everyday and he maintained it moved a little everyday, signifying a minute extra a day of daylight going from winter to spring and current conversation starter: “Isn’t there a grand stretch in the evening altogether”.
The same fella also trotted out the oak before ash saying in springtime to quizzical looks from me. For the uninitiated it goes like this: “If the oak goes before the ash, then we’ll only have a splash, if the ash before the oak, then we’ll surely have a soak”?
Basically, the year’s rain depended on the leaf growth of the two trees and if god forbid the ash outdid the oak we were in for a very damp summer.
Too many berries on the trees or coming too early was another indicator of weather Armageddon I often heard a neighbour bemoan many a time, while rain on St Swithin’s Day on July 15 is know to send many a countryman into dark despair, it being a predictor of the 40 days of rain to come.
Do you have any old weather sayings or folklore? We’d love to hear them, call 090 6434322 or email:deirdre.verney@westmeathindependent.ie