Granny Bridget was just twenty years of age when she gave birth to her first child Mary and her only child by her husband Patrick Garvey. The child was registered and baptised Mary Elizabeth Catherine, though she became known as Maisie. At her baptism in the Cathedral her sponsors were Henry McCullagh and Bridget O'Brien, her great-aunt. Bridget O'Brien was then thirty one years old,
single and the proprietor of the boarding house at 22 North Street where the infant's aunt Susan still lived. I have remarked on Henry McCullagh already. Possibly he came to Newry since the Census of 1901 (explaining his absence from that registry in Newry) and had taken up residence in the North Street boarding house of Bridget O'Brien. Had he become a friend he could have been asked to accompany her as a second sponsor for her great-niece. Remember the apparent absence of close family support at Bridget and Patrick's wedding in 1901.
I repeat that it appears very likely (though I have failed to find written evidence) that the child's father Patrick Garvey died - of toxic poisoning - subsequent to a wasp sting - while Maisie was still very young. She would never have remembered her natural father.
When some five years later her mother gave birth to her second daughter, the position of the young girl would have been considered paramount.
Maisie was eight years old when my uncle Frank was born in November 1910. However she was not immediately to enjoy the company of a new child in the home because Frank was dispatched to live with relatives in Mill Street. Soon he was returned to his mother and Maisie had a young brother to play with. Within a year another boy, my father Patrick, was born and two further years later in 1914 Dolly was born. Mary was now of an age to be of positive assistance to her mother with the new baby.
43 Monaghan Street must have been a very busy and crowded house by then. Bridget depended on boarders for her livelihood but her latitude for taking in new guests was diminishing. However, more children required more income and she continued to take on new guests up to a maximum of four or five. Peter Quinn's wife had died in 1 Upper Edward Street and he gave up that house to come and board with granny. He worked as a baker in Willis' just to the rear of the house at that time. I believe he summoned Patrick McCullagh his friend from Ardboe to Newry to board in the same house and work also as a baker in Willis'. Other more casual boarders came and went. Among these was Paddy Carragher from Crossmaglen. Later, in the fifties he married and settled in Iveagh Crescent in Rooney's Meadow, just opposite us at Slieve Gullion Road. Another boarder was a Mr McCullough, a Protestant man who later lived in the aluminium bungalows at Clanrye Avenue. Bridget was also providing meals for casual callers, mainly South Armagh farmers in town on agricultural business.
She probably referred potential boarders to her aunt Bridget O'Brien across the road when she herself had all she could keep. The arrangement was probably reciprocal.
During the First World War years Maisie, now in her teens, helped her mother to manage the house. Her stepfather Patrick McCullagh was the only father she had ever known. He worked hard as a baker. In 1917 he contracted tuberculosis, the disease that continued to blight the lives of the poor of Ireland causing 63% of all deaths. Damp, overcrowded conditions propagated it. Patrick suffered for three years, finally succumbing in June 1920.
Granny Bridget's task became harder. Maisie helped to care for her younger brothers and sister, then aged ten, eight and six. She was eighteen. Soon afterwards Maisie met a young man from 7 High Street. Joseph Vickers was born in 1897, the second child of Sarah and Joseph Vickers. The father Joseph was a barber and an immigrant from Bolton in Lancashire. Maisie and Joseph married on 22 September 1924. Maisie was twenty-two and her groom was twenty-seven. The marriage certificate specifically states that the groom's father Joseph was “living”. No such remark appends the name of the bride's father Patrick Garvey, who was described as a “labourer” - although we recall he had been a butcher. Maisie herself is not ascribed any occupation under the heading “Profession” though she would never have known idleness at 43 Monaghan Street. Joseph, like his father, was a barber. At the time of the wedding Joseph 4 other children were Maggie (29) and James (25).
Bridget provided well for her daughter and son-in-law, providing the house opposite but one for a home and place of business for them. (From the time of the marriage to her death in 1922 Bridget O'Brien – her aunt and long-time guardian – now ailing and elderly, likely moved into her niece's home to allow this arrangement.
The ground floor was equipped as a barber's shop and Joseph's father Joseph at first came to assist him to set up in business. The newlyweds were to have just nine years together. On 7 March 1925 their first child was born and named Bridget Patricia – granny's own first names. [That my eldest sibling should be given exactly these names seventeen years later indicates my granny's influence on both occasions! My mum had to pretend her first-born would be known as Bridget, which of course she never was!]
On 18 January 1927 Patrick Vickers was born. The record shows that on the following day he was christened in the Cathedral. Patrick Joseph Vickers was sponsored by Francis McCullagh and Maggie Vickers (Joseph's sister who at thirty-one was still single).
I wish to diverge a little here to remark that my father Patrick (Church Record D28) and my aunt Dolly (D28) had been baptised into the Roman Catholic Church at Newry Cathedral just a few months prior to this (Oct 1926). The imminent baptism of her grandchildren may have motivated granny Bridget to finally bring Sonny and Dolly to church for this sacrament. Better late than never, as they say, but I have been unable to find a record at any time of my uncle Frank's baptism. That he was at home then (he was very shortly to enlist in the Marines) and was asked to sponsor Paddy Vickers' baptism strongly indicates that he probably had already been baptised as an infant. Christian baptism does not require the presence of a priest. Any Christian can baptise another using water and the set words. But Frank had to be a baptised Christian to fulfill the role.a
Maisie gave birth to a daughter Mary Elizabeth Joan on 18 May 1929. Again the following day was chosen for baptism. Mary E Joan Vickers was sponsored by John Murray and Kathleen Cooney (sic). Eighteen years later this lady would sponsor my baptism. She was Maisie's first cousin, the daughter of Susan.
But this was the end of Maisie's happy years.
In 1933 Joseph Vickers ran out on his wife and three children. He fled to England, possibly to Bolton, Lancashire where his father had come from. His deserted wife Maisie contracted tuberculosis and became bed-ridden. Shortly after that her youngest daughter Joan, while crossing Monaghan Street to a sweet shop to spend the penny someone had given her, was knocked down and fatally injured by McParland's oil delivery van. It wasn't long after this that the child's mother Maisie herself died of consumption. Vickers could not be located to come home for either funeral. I remember being told that some years later uncle Frank spotted Vickers in England but was unable to apprehend or to speak to him.
More tragedy was to follow.
Bridie Vickers was a beautiful and quite exceptional young lady. More than fifty years later my mother remembers her vividly and with enormous attachment. They often groomed each other's hair. She maintained a friendly and cheerful disposition in spite of the heartache that fate had brought her. After my parents' wedding they (Sonny and Eileen) lived for some years at 43 Monaghan Street with granny, Dolly, Paddy, Bridie and the boarders - (Frank was seldom at home any more. His services were required for the war effort). The young Bridie, just a teenager at the time of Sonny and Eileen's wedding, became my mother's friend and helper. My four eldest sisters were born in quick succession and overcrowding became a problem. Though Dolly occasionally objected, Bridie never did. But she, like her mother and so many of her relatives before her, contracted tuberculosis. In the early stages of the disease Bridie was stricken also with appendicitis. There was no alternative to surgery. In her weakened state the post-operative stitches failed to heal and she died - in great pain - shortly after. She was twenty years old. It was Christmas night of 1945, the year peace returned to the world.
Everyone was devastated - not least my mother. But of course the pain of bereavement was greatest for Paddy, her brother. Not yet eighteen years old he had lost his father through desertion, his baby sister in a road traffic accident and his mother and only remaining sister to tuberculosis. I have no words properly to tell of my admiration for this wonderful man who despite all this remained a loving, friendly, caring and outgoing character. He was my father's constant companion and the rock to steady my mother in Sonny's absence. All his life he stood by our family - even while supporting his own family after he married and had children by his sweetheart Bridie Magill. I never remember hearing him complain. He was a baker and worked hard. There was no alternative in those straitened times. He treated Sonny and Frank as brothers and Dolly as a sister, though they were half-uncles and half-aunt. He treated mum as if she were his sister and his friend. Paddy was a friend to all the young McCullaghs. He had a talent for making the dividing years disappear.
On 22 August 1951 Paddy married Bridie Magill (daughter of Thomas Magill, chef) in Newry Cathedral. Bridie was a factory worker from Cowan Street. Father Esler officiated. Their first daughter Marie (Mary Philomena) was born on 27 May 1952. Their only other surviving child, another girl, Joan, was born the following year. Bridie lost the third child she was carrying while Marie and Joan were being minded by us in the Meadow. The family lived in Murphy Crescent. Today Bridie lives in Mourneview Park. Just across the road live her two daughters who married two brothers from the Meadow, Michael and Joe McEvoy. Marie and Micheal have no children. Joan and Joe have five: - Martin P. QUB law graduate and friend of my niece Lorna Fox, Patrick (5) Joanna (13) Maria (12) and Micheal (11).
I was told the following by word of mouth … and have been unable to confirm any of it. It may be apocryphal, but would reflect the known characteristics of those involved.
Sometime later in life, Paddy and Bridie were scanning the Newry Reporter when they came upon a letter bearing the name and address of a Warrenpoint solicitor. He was requesting that any relative of Garvey/Vickers of Monaghan Street make contact.
Paddy was in a quandary. His father had upped and abandoned his young wife and children in the early 30's to return to Bolton, England. When Sonny and/or Frank pursued him he ran off when spotted, and made no further contact. All his life Paddy had kept a photo of his absent father in an inside pocket.
He once showed it to his elder daughter Marie, identifying him as her grandfather. She became upset. No, it's not, she cried. I have only one grandfather and he's called Magill. Paddy folded the photo and put it away.
Marie when born was a ‘blue baby' and was christened Mary Philomena by the attendant midwife (lest she die right away without the sacrament.) She was sickly throughout life, and was addressed by her father as ‘my little Maisie'. That had been the sobriquet given to his mother, first daughter of Granny Bridget Garvey.
At the age of nine, Marie, in company with her younger sister Joan came to stay with us for a few days while her mother was in Daisy Hill Hospital giving birth. Bridie's third child survived just a few days. Sonny taught Marie to ride a bicycle in that short time. He liked to do this with all of us and all neighbour's children.
Still Marie couldn't settle, in spite of the friendship offered to her by all at The Meadow, especially the oldest girls of our family. She ran up the Brickie Loanan to their flat in Murphy Crescent. She banged on the door - and indeed on neighbours' doors without answer. Paddy was at work in McCann's Bakery and Bridie was in hospital. Marie had to be fetched back by some of us.
The story from the solicitor in Warrenpoint was that the aberrant Joseph Vickers had returned and wanted to make peace. He wasn't courageous enough to make the personal contact.
Having deserted his Irish bride, Vickers had remarried in England and had five more children. He had made good in England to the tune of several million. He wanted to make Paddy his chief beneficiary. Paddy refused to have any of it or to meet his father. Joseph returned to England and was not heard of again.
Paddy’s family supported him. But he later told Marie that he was torn. He had wanted to go to Warrenpoint and throw his arms around him. Most of those three days he spent crying in his bedroom.
On 12 July 1987 Paddy Vickers - my father’s life companion, bosom friend to my mother, aid, solace and comfort to us all as children, and one of life’s true gentlemen, passed away. Coming less than two months after our immediate family’s greatest tragedy - the sudden death at the early age of just thirty-five years of my brother Michael - we were unable as a family to properly mark his passing. Daddy’s brother Frank died shortly afterwards - of senile dementia, a dreadful fate for so sharp a man - and was buried in Kilkeel. Again we were still too dazed to do anything but attend his funeral like zombies. Jimmy Daly’s death and burial in Mullaghbawn went totally unmarked by us. If ever there was a terrible year for our family, it was 1987. Frank’s wife Phyllis did not survive long after his death. At Monk’s Hill cemetery in Newry just two plots separate the graves of my brother Michael and Paddy Vickers. Paddy’s grandchildren can turn around half circle and pay tribute to their grandfather Patrick McEvoy whose plot directly faces that of Michael.
Visit, please and say a prayer for the repose of the souls of all these wonderful people.