Local history: Streets of Ballyhaunis were in a 'woeful condition’ in the 1890s
By Tom Gillespie
SERGEANT Patrick Lyons, known as ‘The Antiquarian Policeman’, served with the Royal Irish Constabulary from 1886 to 1920.
While stationed in the west of Ireland, he developed a keen interest in documenting the field monuments he noticed on his patrols.
Belmullet-born author Máire Lohan (nee Carroll), while researching for a M.A. in archaeology at UCG, became aware of Lyons' photographic collection and further research resulted in An ‘Antiquarian Craze’ - the life, times and work in archaeology of Patrick Lyons R.I.C., which was published in 2008 by my school pal Eddie Burke of Westport Road, Castlebar, through his company Edmund Burke Publishers.
Lyons was transferred to Ballyhaunis on November 1, 1894, where, according to his service records, he was stationed for the next 18 years.
The woeful condition of Ballyhaunis when Lyons began his work there is graphically illustrated in a letter to the editor of the local paper: “Since the arrival of the rainy season the streets of the town have been sadly neglected.
“Playful attempts have, from week to week, been made to sweep off the mud, or rather to sweep it into small heaps which have lain on, or close to, the channels until added to in successive weeks.
“Then at intervals of from three to four weeks the remains of these mud-mounds have been carted away. The town is reeking with filth, the streets are impassable, the lanes are in a similar way and the yards - indescribable.
“Pass the entrance to one of the latter (of course there are some exceptions) and you may have a liberal education in ‘how to neglect sanitation’. Why allow manure pits at the very back doors of inhabited houses?”
During Lyons’ early years in Ballyhaunis, the necessity for a police presence at three local evictions made newspaper headlines, and, though Lyons is not mentioned by name, it is quite probable that he was present: “Immense crowds of people had assembled on the scene and their attitude certainly seemed to be one of hostility.
“When an entrance had been affected it was found that some of those who had barricaded the windows and doors had obtained access to the roof through the chimney.
“One of the persons on the roof had a military horn upon which he blew repeated calls which had the result of collecting up a few stragglers who were still absent from the scene of operations.” A houseman was noticed careering over the farm. The sheriff mounted a horse and endeavoured to capture him.
“A most exciting and amusing race ensued, and the attempts of the bailiff to secure the horseman created considerable merriment. The chase continued for a considerable time, but notwithstanding the assistance given by the police, the bailiff came off a bad second.”
Lyons was promoted to Sergeant in July 1, 1896. One of the regular duties of a sergeant was attendance at court, principally to bring charges for law-breaking, but also sometimes to give corroborating evidence for the defence.
The Ballyhaunis Petty Sessions were regularly reported in the Western People and Lyons’ presence was first mentioned on August 21, 1897, where he is entitled Inspector of Weights and Measures and prosecuted Patrick Waldron for having in his possession a 1lb weight which was one ounce and 9.5 drachms light.
Lyons next appeared in the following July when he brought a prosecution for drunk and disorderly behaviour and the use of foul language (which he was requested to show in writing to the judge).
During the next 15 years or so, Lyons is reported to have been in attendance at 138 cases: lesser crimes ranged from obstructing the sidewalk, allowing animals to wander on the public roads, selling sheep without a certificate that they had been dipped (in a prosecution Lyons stated that ‘there were close on 450 defaulters in the district’), adulteration of whiskey, and breaches of the licensing laws. More serious crimes include robbery and larceny, cruelty to animals and children, assaults (often while drunk) on civilians and police, and four cases of murder, including one infanticide.
Intemperance was certainly a feature of life in Ballyhaunis while Lyons was stationed there. Over 56 per cent of his court attendances dealt with drink-related cases: 56 charges of drunken and disorderly behaviour often leading to assaults (including four cases of assault on himself) and 22 cases of breaches of the Licensing Act.
A frustrated magistrate commented: “I do not know how this wholesale drunkenness can take place in a little village like Ballyhaunis without the publicans detecting it in some instances.”
The author points out that according to the Census of Ireland 1901, there were 599 inhabited houses and 1,513 out-offices and farmsteadings in Ballyhaunis, with a population of 3,056, of whom 1,490 were males.
One particular event in 1920 must have disturbed Lyons in a very personal way: in what must have seemed like a strange twist of fate the man who replaced him in Ballyhaunis had been shot.
“Sensation prevailed in Ballyhaunis early on Sunday morning when a number of shots rang out in Bridge Street and it was later found that Sergt. Ed Carroll and Const. Ryan, when returning from duty in an outside district, had been fired on, receiving injuries to the legs from shotguns.
“It appears the injured men, who were accompanied by Const. McDaid, surprised a party of men who were carrying out a raid on the excise offices, opposite the post office.
“The police were three times called upon to halt and not complying with the order were fired upon.
“It is said that shots were then exchanged, and a bullet was yesterday found embedded in the hall door of the Railway Hotel. The raiding party decamped immediately. The Sergeant was removed to Dublin for treatment by the 1.45 p.m. train. The constable’s wounds were slight.”