Knockbeg In The Nineteen Thirties
by Fr. P.J. Brophy, B.D. President of St. Patrick's
College, Carlow.
(By kind permission of the Editor,
Educational Times)
 When I think of my schooldays at
Knockbeg I remember the chug-chug of the barges on the Barrow, glimpses
of horse-drawn boats, days on the river, swimming in April and May,
secret pleasures of boat trips by night, furtive smokes in the boiler
house.
The first day 1 went to boarding
school my mother drove over the 12 miles from Tullow through Carlow town
and Graiguecullen out to St. Mary's College, Knockbeg, overlooking the
sluggish stream of the Barrow. I can still see the pony and trap
receding in the distance and feel my awareness of the sensation of being
on my own away from home for the first time. Hitherto, my life had been
bounded by the interests of a farm, my imagination stimulated by the
mysteries of secret places in the hedgerows, the stories of neighbours,
the cycle of the seasons and the discovery that the world around me was
real.
The first time I went to Dublin as a
boy I thought that the whole trip was make-believe. I imagined that some
elaborate stage manager had made up all the sets in a hurry. If only I
could touch them I was sure that they would fall away and dissolve into
unreality. I was a confirmed subjectivist without knowing it.
Knockbeg opened up to me a whole new
world of shared pleasures of the imagination. The Rector at the time was
the legendary Athair Peadar Mac Suibhne, a burly cheerful man upon whom
many people allege Barry Fitzgerald modeled his priest's part in "The
Bells of St. Mary's."
Fr. Swayne spoke Irish all the time.
He taught us Irish just by using it around the house. It came so
naturally to him that he communicated his fluency and the ideals of
independent Ireland which went with his championing of the language. He
was the best language teacher I ever knew, because for those who came in
contact with him talking Irish was as natural as breathing. Fr. Swayne
encouraged Gaelic games while actively discouraging foreign games. There
was no compromise.
Hurling and Gaelic football, handball
and rounders were our favourite pastimes. I had no tradition of football
and found myself outside the magic circle of footballers, the heroes of
the house. There were secret recesses in the Old House where cards were
played, pontoon particularly. What to a child's mind were vast sums of
money changed hands. There was tennis, too, and a memory of cricket. We
saw the cricket gear hidden away in presses, and noted the photographs
of cricketers of former times.
There were house stories about Kevin
O'Higgins, Gearoid O Suilleabhain. Highlights of the year were the
reunion meetings, when high fashion came to the college, and we learned
that all the boys had brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers.
We had a stimulating teacher of
English, Sean T. MacGabhann. Johnty we called him, and we loved him. He
told us about the Black and Tans, about his boxing achievements, but
best of all he opened up to us poetry, beauty and the world of
literature. He communicated a love of fine thought and an appreciation
for things well expressed without appearing to teach us. Whatever we
learned from him we learned effortlessly while we considered that we
were being entertained. The pain went out of learning, because we were
led into pleasurable sensations by a man who charmed us as he taught us.
Latin I found to be the most exciting
class. We had a French collection called "Les Latins," an anthology of
Roman literature with notes in French. It was the most interesting book
we had, and the teacher, A. H. O'Sullivan, enthused us. He communicated
something of the distinctive cohesion, pithiness and elegance of the
Latin tongue.
There were three libraries in the
class halls. The senior library was the English hall, a cosy spot, where
I spent the happiest days of my time in Knockbeg. There was a real
library elsewhere, but it was forbidden, and we never seemed to use it.
But we had fine books in the English hall, and the horizons widened over
the years.
Looking back on it now I can say that
Knockbeg introduced me to all kinds of interests and experiences
connected with books. There was no dramatic tradition.
Music was less well catered for. It
seemed to be mainly church music we heard about. Our professor was a
splendid upstanding German, Herr Franz Born, who spoke as if he had
never left his native Prussia. He had a gentle face, but no capacity to
communicate love of his subject. In those days Knockbeg was regarded as
a "minor seminary." This meant no more than that there were boys there
who were thinking about becoming priests. But nobody was committed.
Most
important of school experiences were the friendships made, the escapades
shared, the crossing of the Barrow at Hickson's lock for a quick sally
into Carlow. There were visits to the cinema, occasional debates and, of
course, the excitement of the matches against St. Mel's, Longford,
long-standing rivals. I am grateful for so much. By modern standards a
comparison is pointless. The horizons of the 1930s were limited enough
in rural Ireland. I am grateful to the men who taught me at Knockbeg an
immense amount about life, books, myself. There was comradeship and some
excitement. It made us ready for living
- Source: The Parish
of KILLESHIN, Graiguecullen'. by P.MacSuibhne. 1972.
-
Transcriber:
M. Brennan c2008
An tAthair Peadar Mac Suibhne 1896-1982 -
AN APPRECIATION
Knockbeg Centenary Book (1948)
In the Knockbeg Centenary Book (1948) there are
details of Kildare & Leighlin clergy c.1820. Re William Clowry
(ordained 1816) it says: A tradition that a third Fr. Clowry of this
family had a large share in the building of St. Patrick's Cathedral,
New York, is confirmed by Cardinal Farley's History of the Cathedral,
1908.
Among later subscribers to the Cathedral - consecrated 1879 - is
Rev. William Clowry, 1000 dollars, p. 237. The reredos of the High
Altar was the gift of the clergy of the Archdiocese, including Rev.
William L. Clowry. A photo of him, kindly given by Mrs. O'Donohoe,
Imperial Hotel, Wexford, late of Myshall, is preserved at Knockbeg.
Source: Trevor Clowry and Thanks to Bernie
Deasy for this information.
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