Here is a page about Ringmoylan, a quay on the south side of the estuary.
We are informed that Maurice O’Connell Esq, MP for Clare, has proceeded to Scotland on a matrimonial excursion. Our correspondent states that on Saturday morning the Member for Clare induced Miss Scott to leave her father’s residence at Cahircon and proceed with him to Gretna Green. The Lady is young, handsome, and an heiress.
Wexford Conservative 3 October 1832
A letter has just arrived in town from a friend of the member for Clare, which states that, on Saturday morning, a Miss Scott eloped from Cahir Con (between Knock and Kildysart), with Maurice O’Connell, MP. They crossed the Shannon in a pleasure-boat, and landed at Shanagolden, county of Limerick. From thence they proceeded in a chaise through Limerick. Their route will probably be through Waterford to Bristol, and thence northward to Gretna Green. Miss Scott has, or will have, it is said, £20,000.
Spectator 6 October 1832 citing “Dublin Paper”
It’s not safe to believe conservative papers.
At Tralee, by special licence, by the Very Rev Dr McEnery, and afterwards at Kenmare, by the Rev William Godfrey, Rector of that parish, Maurice O’Connell, MP for the County of Clare, to Mary Frances, only daughter of Bindon Scott Esq of Caheracon in that County.
Limerick Chronicle 3 October 1832
Who said Cahircon was boring?
Mind you, Mary Frances may have inherited less than she expected. Perhaps if her father had spent less on the house of the dead, he might not have ended up as the only Shannon Estuary landlord unable to pay his debt to the Shannon Commissioners. His estate was offered for sale in the Encumbered Estates court in 1854.
The Western Mail & South Wales News of 19 April 1929 had an article by M Franklin Thomas about “Ireland’s Big Engineering Scheme”. The article was illustrated with a map and three photographs were reproduced on the newspaper’s “picture page”. It had a couple of interesting points about the headrace and tailrace considered as navigations; I can’t recall seeing these points made elsewhere.
This [headrace] canal is level, but a flow of about 3½ miles per hour will be maintained owing to the water released through the turbines and navigation locks.
I don’t recall seeing a figure for the current. I presume that that is with three turbines running flat out.
There is an interesting account of the laying of the concrete apron that protects the banks against the “wave action set up by navigation, and the flow of the stream, wind, &c”. And the lock was to have an “ingenious arrangement by which the entering streams of water neutralise each other’s effect”.
Mr Thomas says
The tail race is one mile and a half long, cut from the solid blue limestone, and one of the most interesting points was the method adopted to permit barges to ascend the tail race against the enormous scour from the turbine discharges.
A special navigation channel is cut from the locks to a point some 200 yards below the outfall, and the bed of the tail race rises 20ft in the mile and a half, so that the depth of water will be 35ft at the outfall from the turbines and 15ft at the junction with the Shannon.
This will give a cushioning effect, and the rate of flow will be thus reduced to enable barges to navigate upstream. A bend is also provided where the special navigation channel joins the tail race and the rate of flow is estimated to be the same as that of the head race — 1.5 metres per second, or about 3½ miles per hour.
I would be glad to hear from anyone who can cast further light on this, and especially on whether the rising bed does have the intended effect.
You’ve always wondered what it sounds like, haven’t you?
You can hear it, and many other canal sounds, on Rob St John’s “ambient sound portrait” from the Leeds & Liverpool Canal here.
Take five minutes off from work and listen to the canal.
h/t our Yorkshire correspondent
September 17, 1846 — The Amateur Band of St Peter’s, who deserve so much from the inhabitants of Athlone for the many opportunities they seize upon, to amuse them, having provided — on a large scale — for themselves and guests a sumptuous and plentiful feast, with the necessary teetotal drinks, sailed up the lake on last Sunday in the Cupid Steamer. The day was beautiful and inviting and the placid stream of the noble Shannon — as if in harmony with the circumstance — opening wide its expansive bosom to receive them, displayed in gorgeous grandeur, the verdant beauties of its multitudinous islands and grove-covered promontories of its indented coasts.
I never saw the lake to such advantage as on that occasion. We had about eighty persons on board, amongst whom were the Rev Mr Philips CC and RW, Mr Keating and family, and other pic-nic parties, with viands and refreshments in abundance. As the steamer made the lake and swept through an Archipelago of islands — namely, Carbery, Kid, the Wren, and Crow Islands, &c, having the wood-embosomed Hare Island, the present insulated residence of my Lord Castlemaine, on the right and the grove-crested cape of the Yeu or, as some call it, the Loo Point on the left — then it was that she breasted the serene bosom of this inland ocean not as Byron says, “walking the waters like a thing of life”, but bounding over its mirrored surface like an impetuous courser she seemed to devour the distance, while she tossed a road of foaming surges from her heels.
On each side appeared emerging from wood and grove beautiful villas and noble ruins, towers and antiquated telegraphs, with their declivous lawns sweeping to the water’s edge. As we passed between Inchmore, Innisbofin, the Nun’s Island, the cultivated and rich callows of the Longford coasts, and Warren’s Point, St John’s and Mount Plunket on the Roscommon side, hill and dale land and water reverbrated with the dulcet tones of our excellent band under their inimitable instructor, Mr Keating, while at intervals the gay and cheerful dance on deck, to the music of the violin, enlivened the enjoyment of the exhilirating prospects that accumulated around us.
One or two objects which I observed, struck me very forcibly, and reminded me of the left-handed, nay, monopolising policy of former days, and the state of vassalage under which we yet groan and which “Ireland for the Irish” would never tolerate. In a beautiful valley, and modestly peeping from the clustering foliage of circumnambient trees and in accommodating contiguity to the “big house” stood the snug and aristocratic church of the minority, styled in legal parlance “the Established”, while at a distance on the bleak hill of Newtown, exposed to wind and weather, a chapel dedicated to the worship of the millions, displayed all the frigid isolation of a step-mother’s care.
We now arrived at Quaker’s Island, and having tacked about, we made for Warren’s Point, on our way home, and went on shore at St John’s Castle. With feelings of deep melancholy mingled with admiration, we viewed the venerable ruins of this once majestic pile (huge masses of which lay scattered here and there), its dismantled bastions, deep fosse, and the roofless walls of its antiquated chapel, while on a neighbouring hill stands the shell of its watch-tower to give timely warning of the approach of the feudal rival who would dare contest sovereignity with its lord. We then warmly and eagerly discussed the viands abundantly spread on the verdant sward at the base of
These ivy crowned turrets, the pride of past ages,
Tho’ mould’ring in ruins still grandeur impart.
After which the merry dance commenced, unconstrained laughter and encouraging shouts accompanying the performers, bringing the memory back to the times of rural felicity; when under the fostering tutelage of a domestic legislature, every family had its own quern to grind its own grain, every peasant could drink his own beer and the daily toil of virtuous industry being over, the children of simplicity, to the sounds of the oaten reed or the violin, or the more national bag-pipes, tripped it gaily on the “light fantastic toe”. And this was the happy and tranquil state of “Old Ireland” before the importation into it of such exotic materials as Sir Walter Raleigh and his rotten potatoes. To return to the ruins. I wish Lever, Carlton, or some one of those compilers of Irish legendary lore, had visited Lough Ree, he would find there more traditionary facts connected with the pristine magnificence of the different localities, than very many of those which have been already noticed in Magazines.
Having embarked once more we soon arrived home, and thus ended to the satisfaction of all parties, one of the most amusing days I, at least, ever spent in my life. To Bernard Mullins Esq, the young men composing the band return their sincere acknowledgements, for his kindness in accommodating them with the Cupid for this very pleasant excursion.
Athlone Sentinel 18 September 1846
Exciting news from the Minister for Fairytales about the Clones Paddling Pool, which is now called the Terminus Project. I see they’re worried about the water supply: not a new problem for water-using structures in that area.
The word “slob” is a provincial term, and applied to banks of mud in the same way that the word “warp” is used to signify similar formations in the River Humber.
Second Report of the Commissioners appointed pursuant to the Act 5 & 6 William IV cap 67 for the improvement of the navigation of the River Shannon; with maps, plans, and estimates HMSO, Dublin 1837
… what this ramp is, or at least what it was originally intended as.And now I know. There will be a special prize, of a blank sheet of A4 paper, for the first person to describe its origins correctly.