Teepee Valley Campsite, Markethill, County Armagh, Ulster

           

You would think that by now we would be more wary of weekday openings especially now the peak of the holiday season is over. I had a full day planned for the day, the activities taking account of the  weather forecast; a city and two National Trust properties should more than fill the day and well please us. But over breakfast I checked our National Trust directory and found that both Ardress House and The Argory were not open during the first and middle part of the week. So I cast my net a little wider and The Chauffeur agreed we should visit the heritage attractions before proceeding in to the county town of Armagh.

We headed firstly into our local village, Markethill, a surprisingly populous and busy centre. With a population of less than two thousand, it fills up three times a week with punters coming for the livestock market, and even more so once a year during the summer for the world’s largest Lambeg drumming contest. A Lambeg drum is a large Irish drum beaten with Malacca canes and is played in the Unionist and Orange Order parades; another antagonistic festival. We called into the excellent supermarket in the village, inspected the wares to find them a little pricey and settled for the day’s newspaper.

Ten or so kilometres north-west we found ourselves in apple growing country, an agricultural activity that had been going on around Loughgall for many centuries. Apparently William of Orange sent his cider maker in advance to make cider to quench the troop’s thirst before the Battle of the Boyne and legend has it that St Patrick swung by here as well. Certainly today we saw acres upon acres of apple trees, most heavily laden with ripe or almost ripe fruit, and alas, thousands upon thousands of windfall apples lying upon the ground. But in truth I was surprised that there had not been greater devastation wrought by the storm of last week; we had seen uprooted trees and broken branches as we drove up through the county. 

Soon the brown tourist signs directed us to the site of the Battle of the Diamond which took place in 1795. This was a skirmish between the Protestant Peep O’Day boys and the Catholic Defenders, a culmination of a long running dispute about control of the local linen trade. The Protestants came off best with their opponents losing thirty of their number. The glory of the victory gave rise to the Orange Order  and the first Orange Lodge march took place the following year, and as we well know, have continued on through the centuries.

Almost across the road from the battle is a farmhouse owned by the Winter family, advertised as Dan Winter’s Cottage, where we hoped to learn more about the battle, the life of the people here at the time and the Order. We arrived a few minutes early, and sat outside until several minutes after 10.30 am. Entering the property, farm dogs barked and we caught sight of a farm worker fussing about his business up the other end of the yard, but no sign of attention for the visiting tourist. We hung about for some time, finally returning to the car without satisfaction and no better informed.

Instead we headed south on through the apple orchards to Armagh, and found a park beneath St Patrick’s Church of Ireland Cathedral, before heading down into the Market Street. While the rain stayed away until we arrived home, the wind was so very cold. We did not even attempt to call in to the Anglican Cathedral, this high on the hill central to the town; we had already read there was a fee involved and you know what we think about this.

The Mall, a tree lined long narrow park running north south below the retail area, is quite charming, lined with handsome Georgian house designed by Armagh born architect Francis Johnston, who worked mainly for Archbishop Robinson, of whom we were to learn more later.

The Armagh County Museum is situated in a former schoolhouse on the east side of The Mall and is quite delightful. Opened in 1937, it was the first county museum in Ireland and I am sure than many of the interpretative cards date from that time. However while there is little modern about the curatorship of this museum, it is concise and held our attention for some time.

One of the exhibitions was all about the railway which no longer passes through Armagh, recounting Ireland’s worst railway disaster which took place in 1889 close to the city. The accident was the result of a collision between a special Sunday excursion on the way to Warrenpoint (passed through yesterday) and the oncoming passenger train bound for Newry. Over one thousand people were packed into thirteen carriages, all locked tight to prevent non-ticket holders getting onto the train.

On a steep hill outside Armagh, the train stalled, so the decision was made to divide the train into two, leave the second half chocked and waiting for the engine to come back for it. So off the first part went chuffing up the hill without hindrance. Alas the waiting carriages rolled backwards gathering speed as it went and collided with the oncoming train. Eighty nine people were killed and over four hundred suffered terrible injuries; indeed a terrible disaster which is well memorialised here.

There is also much about the linen industry which monopolised the economy, for centuries in fact, beginning with cottage industry before moving into the towns and cities where large factories were set up. Records from as far back as 1430 mention linen production, and by the late 17^th century, the linen trade of Ireland was encouraged at the expense of the woollen business, to the great hardship of the country as a whole. Of course the last century brought new synthetic materials and cheaper mechanised ways of producing other fabric, even if not as exquisite as that produced in Armagh during the 18^th and 19^th centuries. This too is all part of the history of hardship endured by the folk who inhabit this island.

As we emerged from the upper floor of the museum, the other galleries currently undergoing set up of new exhibitions, we were accosted by the volunteer behind the desk, a most unlikely looking chap, a ruffian in fact, but a man of great passion for and knowledge of his county’s history. He told us how Armagh is like Rome, built on seven hills, a fact I have yet to verify. He told us too about the wonderful Archbishop Robinson, who unlike many of his ilk, spent his income on the people of the parish rather than squirreling his wealth away.

I was curious about this great benefactor of Armagh and later learned the following: that he was born Richard Robinson in 1708 and in 1777 created 1^st Baron Rokeby. Brought up and educated in England, he first came to Ireland in 1751 as chaplain to the Duke of Dorset.

Six years before entering the Peerage of Ireland, he founded the Amagh Public Library, three years later the County Infirmary, then six years after that donated land for the erection of the new prison. In 1790 he founded the Armagh Observatory as part of his plan for a university in Armagh however he died four years later without realising that dream. Apparently he left money for establishment of the university; however this has never come to fruition even after all these years. Instead Coleraine was given that privilege in 1968 much to the consternation of the likes of our scruffy informer.

Interestingly Google reported that Robert Walpole called Robinson “a proud but superficial man” and John Wesley accused him of being more interested in buildings than in the care of souls. It is curious as to how people are remembered after they have died.

Another of the buildings Robinson left for perpetuity, or at least until it crumbles to the ground, is the Archbishop’s Palace located on three hundred acres of parkland on the southern edge of the city, and the primary residence of the Anglican or Church of Ireland Archbishops of Armagh for over two hundred years. Since 1975 the Palace has been headquarters of the Armagh City and District Council and according to our guide book is open for guided tours. This is not strictly true as we were to find out for ourselves.

We returned to the car and drove to the Demesne Palace gardens, up past the friary ruins and parked within view of the grand house. A charming young woman met us at the door and indicated that we were welcome to make our way around the hall, stairwell and passages to view the paintings, but not to venture into any of the rooms. So we did as we were told and enjoyed the current exhibition of local artist J B Vallely, whose work we absolutely loved. Back in the foyer, the receptionist took us into the Armstrong Room, the Lord Mayor’s Parlour, formally the dining room of the Palace. It is a lovely room where the Lord Mayor, currently Julie Flaherty, meets and greets special people or holds mayoral gatherings, fit for any fine home. 

We checked out the stables which now house the registrar of birth, death and marriages and a restaurant. Out in the garden amongst the chestnuts where we spotted the first conkers of the season and two busy grey squirrels, is a sensory garden that has seen better days. The pond and fountain have not seen water for a while; perhaps the earlier drought conditions were cause to close it all down and no one has got around to restoring everything to order.

Back on the north side of the city we called up to the St Patrick’s Catholic Cathedral, this also situated on top of a hill, almost in competition with the Church of Ireland. It is a stately building with the most stunning interior.

Construction began in 1840 after the Catholic Emancipation, and continued on right through to 1904. In more recent years restoration work has taken place, but the basic structure has remained unchanged. Many archbishops held office during construction, and many died according to the list within the church. We were very impressed with the intricate mosaic tiling work throughout. I was also very pleased to learn that building work was suspended during the Famine years and funds were diverted to fund relief, a story at odds with most practice of the time.

On our way home we detoured up to the Seagahan Dam where we found the reservoir here also short of water. Most searches for statistics about this just turned up information on the brown trout with which it is well stocked, although I do worry about their reduced habitat.

As we turned away from Markethill toward our campsite, I remarked that we had been lucky with the weather, jinxing the status quo; drizzly rain commenced. However the weather forecast for the coming days is looking pretty good; we just need to stay well wrapped up.