Galway In Days Gone By

Children from Claddagh National School taking part in the Corpus Christi Parade in Galway in the 1970s. The parade is pictured emerging from Dominick Street and entering O'Brien's Bridge.
Children from Claddagh National School taking part in the Corpus Christi Parade in Galway in the 1970s. The parade is pictured emerging from Dominick Street and entering O'Brien's Bridge.

1917

‘War bread’ unpopular

At Galway Petty Sessions, Mr. Patk. Lydon, baker, Mary-street, was charged under an Order of the Food Controller for selling newly-baked bread under the Defence of the Realm Regulations which state: “that no bread, which has not been made at least 12 hours, shall be offered or exposed for sale, and if any person, in contravention of this Order, assists in the sale, he is guilty of a summary offence”.

Sergt. Dowie discovered Edward Fitzpatrick delivering bread on 22nd May for Mr. Lydon, which was fresh, contrary to the Order. Mrs. Lydon stated that it was her fault, and that the loaves were baked at 11 o’clock on that day, and it was then 3 o’clock. She further stated that it was impossible to sell stale bread, as the customers did not care for war bread when it was stale.

The defendant stated that the last supply of flour was bad. The Sergeant stated that there were 12 fresh and 12 stale loaves in the cart. Mr. Lydon was dined 5s., and Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was in charge of the delivery, was fined 1s.

Inmates without sugar

At the meeting of the Ballinasloe Guardians, the Master reported that he got no sugar from any contractor for the past fortnight. Dr. Rossiter and himself agreed that it was wasteful to serve cocoa without sugar, whatever they might do as regards milk in the tea.

Mr. Keogh said it was deplorable to have the poor old inmates without sugar in their old age. It was decided to write to the Sugar Commission and Mr. J. Cosgrave, M.P., on the matter.

1942

Tug-of-war with fox

Foxes are causing great havoc among fowl in the Errislannon peninsula, near Clifden. They have become so daring in their onslaughts on fowl yards that they carry out their raids in broad daylight, and the housewives are compelled to “herd” their fowl.

One housewife was actually feeding her hens when a fox came up and grabbed one of them. A tug-o’-war ensued between the woman and the fox, and the hen’s tail came away in the fox’s mouth. Another woman lost fifteen hens and a duck in one raid. Another thought her hens were safe until she got up in the morning to find the roost empty and a tunnel running under one of the walls. The foxes have their dens in a hill nearby.

Clann na Talmhan

During the past twelve months the farmers’ organisation, Clann na Talmhan, has made remarkable strides. It has gained very considerably in membership and has established many branches throughout the West, though it is still stronger in the county of its origin than in any other part of Connacht.

The fourth annual convention of the parent executive which is to be held at Dunmore on Thursday next, should provide great encouragement for the President of the organisation, Mr. Michael Donnellan, and his fellow workers in the county.

The public meeting which is to follow it bids fair, despite transport difficulties, to be the largest held under the auspices of the Clann, despite the fact that it already has many very impressive gatherings to its credit.

These demonstrations of the farmers, gay with bands and banners and vivid with enthusiasm, recall the great hostings of the old days before party strife grew bitter with venom and showed a crop of hatred and distrust throughout the land. Through the farmers’ organisation we yet may regain that halcyon Ireland of an older generation, where, no matter what we had to endure from outside sources, out people were united in their loyalty to each other despite surface differences, a pleasant, kindly race such as the old Gaelic poets loved to portray.

The country has been so long hag-ridden by party politics of the meanest type that its resurrection might be deemed impossible, but we refuse to abandon hope.