Throwback Thursday: Cork pilgrims recall train trips to Knock

STILL we hear more from Throwback Thursday readers about the street photographers of yesteryear.

Siobhan wrote from Douglas to say:

“I’m reading your very interesting article on today’s Echo. I remember well the street photographers. I don’t know if I had my photo taken, but as an only child for eight years, I was always in town with my late mam (RIP). “

Siobhan says she can certainly vouch for the expertise of photographers George and Val Healy, and for the best of reasons.

“They took my wedding photos on April 22, 1957, at the Lough Church, and after in the Imperial Hotel for our ‘wedding breakfast’ as it was then called.

“Canon Fullam married us, and I was warned by him, ‘Do not be late’!” remembers Siobhan.

“The ceremony was at 8 o’clock in the morning on Easter Monday, the 9am and 10am masses were booked by my friend’s first cousin who was an All Ireland step dancer (man) and Betty Horan and Jimmy Murphy, all now gone to God, as is my husband (RIP).

“My mam had our photo on the Echo that Saturday. I still have the album.”

Touchingly, for the couple’s 60th wedding anniversary, their youngest daughter got a replica album made for her parents, and even a faithful copy of the three-tier fruit wedding cake!

“A few of the guests on that happy occasion had attended our original wedding! Ted O’Brien (a famous photographer and my neighbour now) did a fantastic job on the pictures for that event. So I have happy memories of good Cork photographers on both occasions!”

And thank-you for sharing those memories with us, Siobhan. Keep that album safe!

Next, Donal Donovan has written in with some lovely memories of the Youghal train, a topic that is close to the hearts of anybody who travelled up and down to and from those golden sands in the long summers of their childhood.

“During World War II, the destination for us of the annual family holiday was always Youghal. And Youghal was magic.

“For this small boy of those days, the most magical part was the railway station,” adds Donal. “Indeed, it brought about a lifelong interest in railways which has never left me.

“As far as I can remember, the daily was a train in each direction, morning and evening. The trains were drawn by a variety of steam engines and the rolling stock was even more varied, often including a horse box for example.”

Well that’s interesting in itself, Donal, but not surprising really when you think about it, and about the wide use of horses on our streets and in our businesses, as well as the importance of riding horses, and the breeding of race stock.

Horses had to travel too (and even take a therapeutic paddle in the waves, if their trainers thought it a good idea).

As a side note, the passenger steamers sailing down the coast of Cork in the 19th and early 20th century to Bantry and beyond, often carried both carriages and their horses, so that the gentry could disembark and carry on the journey to their country estates in the style to which they were accustomed.

But back to Donal’s memories.

“On arrival in Youghal, the immediate attraction was to watch the engine being uncoupled from the train in order to facilitate its access to the turntable. The driver and fireman were both involved in turning the engine, which then moved to a parallel track before being attached to the other end of the train for the return journey.”

This was a procedure watched by every child in the vicinity and enjoyed to the full, as Donal confirms. 

“The present day diesel sets are no fun!”

He recalls, though, that the turntable was brought into use for one final duty in July, 1985, on the occasion of an excursion organised by the Irish Railway Record Society.

“Motive power for that day was provided by a single cabin diesel engine which had to be turned around,” says Donal, “As a family, we were passengers that day and my 10-year-old son joined many volunteers in assisting the engine’s crew, thus echoing my own experiences of many years earlier!”

Happily, says Donal, the turntable will be restored and incorporated in the proposed greenway which is being developed along the route from Midleton to Youghal.

He has another memory of that day in 1985 which he feels may be of interest.

“The Lord Mayor of Cork, Mr Dan Wallace, accompanied the train as far as Little Island where the mayoral car awaited him so that he could return to Cork for other important commitments.”

“The permanent way was in excellent condition, as there was fairly regular goods traffic, but as one of your correspondents pointed out, any open carriage windows were liable to admit small branches and twigs from trees bordering the line. A small price to pay, though, as I am sure any train enthusiast will agree.”

Reverting to wartime days, says Mr Donovan, “about two days every week, an unscheduled goods train arrived mid-morning, which was a huge bonus for the children watching, as considerable shunting ensued.

“As a terminus, the station was quite extensive and included goods sidings and substantial storage buildings. Also on the side of the main station building there were two platforms specifically for excursion trains which were of course popular during the summer.

“However, some years before final closure, a winter storm deposited huge quantities of sand and debris on this area and it was decided not to embark on a costly clean up so this area fell out of use.”

Excursion trains for the annual Legion of Mary pilgrimage to Knock Shrine seem to have been the only passenger traffic of any significance during the 1980s, Donal adds, “and one of these trains, possibly in 1987 or thereabouts, was the last ever passenger train on the line.”

So ended an era.

But on the topic of pilgrimages to Knock, Katie O’Brien can add a memory too.

“It must have been the late 1950s, and my parents took the whole lot of us (five children in total) all the way up to Knock on the pilgrimage train.

“My father was very big into the Legion of Mary and he declared that it would be a ‘Good Thing’ for us all to go. My mother was up all night making and packing sandwiches and thermos flasks, I remember.

“We got down to Glanmire Station and the crowds pouring on to that train were unbelievable. We were packed in, and couldn’t move once we’d started.

“Now that I think back, it must have been a special routing, because normally it wouldn’t be possible to take the train from Cork to Knock. But for a pilgrimage, I suppose, that was different!”

All she can recall of the place itself, says Katie, was that there were dozens of little tented stalls selling religious souvenirs like medals, rosaries, pictures. 

“And the rain. It didn’t just rain, it sheeted, it poured, it drenched us all and didn’t stop for the entire day.”

It must have been August, because the 18th of that summer month was the date on which the original apparition of the Virgin is said to have appeared back in 1879, but it certainly wasn’t summery August weather that year.

Katie remembers standing miserably on the outskirts of the crowd, hood on her raincoat pulled up, feet squelching in the mud, while far away at the church the sound of Mass being relayed through loudspeakers could faintly be heard.

“I think the worst thing was that we didn’t have a thing to eat there, and you know what kids are like. It was just too wet, there was nowhere to shelter, nowhere to sit down. It wasn’t until we were actually in the train that evening on the way home that we were able to dig into the sandwiches and tea. At least the tea was still fairly hot!

“The Franciscans - or was it the Capuchins, I can’t remember - were patrolling up and down the train leading choruses of prayers, but we were too intent on getting some food into us at last! Gosh, we were grateful when we got home!”

Those pilgrimages to Knock were big business for the trains in the 1940s and ’50s, although those travelling from the furthest rail points, like Bantry, had a long day, sometimes up to 27 hours from leaving home to getting back again. Diesel trains cut the journey by about two hours from about 1956, but it was still a fairly exhausting trip.

A big innovation was radio in the trains, introduced for the 1949 Cork Railway Centenary, which meant that the clergy could preach to the entire travelling crowd, and the faithful could pray in unison. You get something of the same today on flights to Lourdes and Medjugorje.

And to keep on the theme of trains, those rail pilgrims would have had to disembark at somewhere like Ballyhaunis, or Claremorris, from where they boarded buses to take them the final stretch to the shrine.

The buses would then wait on the outskirts of the site until the day was over and they could take their passengers back to the railway station.

One wonders how everybody found the right bus - or did a passenger hoping to get home to Cork find him or herself travelling through the suburbs of Dublin at midnight?

Did you ever go on a pilgrimage to Knock by train? Tell us about it if you did! Or any of your childhood memories.

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