Mysterious Mussenden

Most Saturday nights when I was growing up, we had our dinner in The Wellington House in Dromore. More commonly known as McFadden's, it was the place to get good food. (Incidentally, it's now up for sale, if you'd like to invest in Dromore). In the back lounge, there were a series of pictures of famous places in Northern Ireland - far away, exotic places I only knew through the picture in McFadden's - Carrickfergus Castle, Derry's walls, and there might have been others. The one that really stood out, though, was the Mussenden Temple.

Many's a time I looked at the picture, wondering about the strange shaped building on the cliff edge, having never seen it in the flesh. I didn't even know where it was, or how you could get to it. All I knew was what I saw in the picture.

The Mussenden Temple stands on the cliff edge of the Downhill Demesne, the palace, now ruined, built by Frederick Augustus Hervey, 4th Earl of Bristol and the Bishop of Derry. The Temple itself was intended to be a library, named after his niece, Frideswide Bruce, who married Daniel Mussenden. Completed in 1783, and now in the hands of the National Trust, Mussenden Temple continues to inspire visitors - visible from all around, and also providing amazing views - it's well worth a visit.

Here are a selection of photos I've taken featuring the temple in some shape or form.

Dramatic clifftop location.

Looking out through the window onto Downhill Beach.

The train track from Coleraine to Londonderry runs beneath Mussenden Temple.

Watching over Castlerock Beach.

The door is open.

As seen from Downhill Beach.

Golden hour.

Train approaching.

Train entering the tunnel.

Push the button - forced perspective!
Mysterious Mussenden has me mesmerised!

The March of Progress, Google Maps Style

A wee while ago, I was arranging to meet up with a friend for a chat. We wondered where would be convenient to meet, and Costa at Holywood Exchange was suggested. Not knowing there was a Costa at Holywood Exchange (beside Ikea in Belfast), I took to technology to discover where it was. Google Maps is always my friend, and especially their amazing Streetview function. You get to see what places look like before you go there, so you know what to look out for, or which lane to be in.

While perusing Streetview on Google Maps, I discovered that their images, built up over several years have provided a glimpse into the development of the Holywood Exchange retail park, and the building of the Costa coffee shop. Three images, side by side, on one roundabout show the absence, construction, and finished article.

Here's the first, from May 2010.

The site is just waste ground, with the hint of what may be coming, the fence securing the site.

Fast forward to June 2012.

The steelwork of the building is now in place, but there's no hint of any coffee aroma yet - apart from the workmens' flasks.

Finally, we have the most recent image, from April 2015.

Costa is open for business, the building complete and full of customers.

Now, it may well be that I'm the only person on the planet who thinks this is interesting or amazing. I'm fully prepared for that! But isn't technology amazing, to show how one little site in the corner of a carpark has been developed, coming along in stages, progress being made, and only really properly seen in hindsight.

That's one of the reasons I (try to) keep a journal. Little markers along the way, charting moments of growth and progress, giving me the opportunity to look back, to see where I've come from, to celebrate what God is doing. The wasteland is showing signs of life. A new building is emerging - not a coffee emporium, but the temple of the living God as we living stones are built together. That's much more exciting than an espresso or a latte.

Book Reviews: The Day of the Jack Russell and Dr Yes

I've previously written about how much I enjoy Colin Bateman's books. Over the course of the summer, I read another couple of his, both from the Mystery Man series. The (fictional) owner of the (real life) No Alibis bookshop in Belfast doesn't just sell crime fiction, he also stars in it. Buoyed by his first successful mystery solved, and with a blossoming relationship with the jewellery shop assistant from across the road, and plagued by his mother, the stories continue to entertain as weird stuff happens and crimes are solved.

The Day of the Jack Russell (a title based on The Day of the Jackal) centres around the death and kidnapping of the Chief Constable's Jack Russell dog. What is its real significance in a world where grafitti artists are murdered and M15 seem to be involved? It's a rip-roaring tale that will make you bark with laughter. Seriously!

Dr Yes moves the story on to the dodgy world of plastic surgery, disappearances and murders. Is it all really as glamorous as it seems? Is beauty only skin deep? What lies beneath? The plot unravels like the bandages from a face lift, to reveal a glorious end result, with a few twists and turns along the way.

Both novels are written from the point of view of Mystery Man himself, with all the wry observations, cutting wit and weird personality quirks that brings (for example, working his way through the Starbucks menu item by item). They're a gift for Northern Irish people, with a very distinctive Ulster humour, but being recommended by the Richard and Judy book club, seem to make the transition to wider British culture. Expect lots of puns and jokes along the way.

If you fancy a chuckle, and want something a wee bit different to the standard crime novel, give these a go - but start with Mystery Man, the first in the series. These will make better sense in that order! The Day of the Jack Russelland Dr. Yesare both available for Kindle from Amazon.

Book Review: Mystery Man

You're probably fed up hearing of the latest Colin Bateman book I've read. This is the last one for a wee while! Bateman's books fall into several different categories. There are the stand alone novels which deal with a character and then finish, often catastrophically. There are the Dan Starkey novels, following the actions and inactions of Belfast's worst journalist. There are the Murphy's Law books (which I haven't started yet), which were turned into a TV series. And there's the Mystery Man series, partly based on the real life No Alibis bookshop on Botanic Avenue.

The first in the series, appropriately entitled Mystery Man, follows the owner of a failing bookshop, who, through a series of strange occurrences becomes a private investigator. The first case, involving a stolen pair of expensive leather trousers, soon develops into a much more sinister turn of events, with, as you've come to expect from Bateman's books, a murder or two.

The book is a romp through the world of book publishers, Nazi secrets, dancing and serial killers, with lots of black humour and laugh out loud moments as the jokes, puns, and accidents roll in thick and fast. If you've loved anything by Bateman, this will be no exception, and will spur you to continue onto the next in the series. Mystery Man is available from Amazonand for Kindle.

Book Review: Mohammed Maguire

It's Christmas Eve, the shops are just about to close in Belfast City Centre. Four men are precariously perched on the balcony of toy shop: an RUC officer, the store's Santa, the shop manager, and the main protagonist, Mohammed Maguire. The whole book unfolds over the course of a few hours, as the men veer nearer or further from the edge, sharing their sorrows, while the life story of the curiously named Mohammed Maguire is told.

The son of an international terrorist relationship, Mohammed's dad is an Egyptian militant, while his mum is from the Falls Road and a staunch member of the IRA. While on a Libyan training camp, Mohammed's parents are killed, leaving him an orphan. There then follows, in true Colin Bateman style, a quirky and unusual story with Northern Ireland's recent history as the backdrop. Mohammed Maguire is presented as the hero at the centre of an alternative history, where as a young boy arrested and interned because of his infamous family, he begins the refusal to wear prison clothes, simply because it doesn't fit him. From there, the prisons dispute escalates as those in authority misunderstand his simple request for uniform that will fit.

It's an interesting and imaginative tale that provides fewer laughs than some of Bateman's other books. But be ready for the twist at the very end. Mohammed Maguire is available from Amazonand for Kindle.

Book Review: Shooting Sean

Regular readers of the blog will have discovered by now that I'm slowly working my way through Colin Bateman's back catalogue, having been introduced to his writing by a friend and former colleague. Shooting Sean is the fourth Dan Starkey book, following on from Divorcing Jack, Of Wee Sweetie Mice and Men, and Turbulent Priests.

In the latest novel, we pick up where we left off. Starkey, a journalist and author gets caught up in the excitement and danger surrounding the shooting of a new film in Dublin. It's an expose of a gangland criminal and terrorist in Belfast, who isn't very happy. Starkey's job is to research and write a book based on the director and star of the film, a local Irish actor who has made it big in Hollywood.

Spoiler: Starkey's wife and her son are kidnapped by the terrorist - to be released on the condition that Starkey shoots (the double meaning becomes clear) Sean O'Toole. The stakes are high, the puns come thick and fast, the action shifts from Dublin to Amsterdam to Cannes. Another clever book from Bateman. There's lots of tension as Starkey debates whether he should attempt to kill O'Toole - especially since his wife and adopted son are held hostage.

There are some brilliant lines along the way. 'The Belfast-Dublin Express has this much in common with the Orient Express: it's a train.' The travel advice continues: 'Amsterdam: canals, tulips, drugs and red lights. There you go. Just saved you five hundred pounds.' There's an interesting take on a collective noun for nuns - a convention! And also some thoughts about journalism and the internet: 'Perhaps journalism was dying in cyberspace.'

Spoiler: The tension is real, with the hostage situation. This is the book that seems to mark a change in Bateman. Previously, everything seemed to turn out for the best (apart from those peripheral characters and their high death rate). But this one changes. Little Stevie doesn't make it. It's all very real, and very unexpected. I was in shock when I read the last couple of chapters.

If you're planning to read it, make sure you've read the others in the series first. Be prepared for the stinger as Starkey shoots Sean, but the shock lies elsewhere. Shooting Sean is available from Amazonand for the Kindle.

The Church of Ireland in the Plantation of Ulster

On Monday I reviewed Jonathan Bardon's book The Plantation of Ulster. The parts of the book that resonated most deeply with me were the repeated concentrations on the role of religion in the colonisation process. So I want to take some time to think about the evidence Bardon presents, and question how we can commit to gospel-centredness over against our traditional role of state enforcer of religion.

The role of the Church of Ireland at that time seemed to be a political one, with it being seen as a tool for the civilising of the crude Irish. The importance of the gospel was lost amidst the political baggage, unfortunately.

Davies and Chichester were also at one in their certainty that the process of anglicisation must include the full introduction of the Protestant religion, ensuring that the established church - the Church of Ireland - was the sole ecclesiastical authority throughout Ireland. (56)

This issues in the proclamation of King James in 1605 aimed at converting the Old English settlers in Ireland from their Catholicism:

Chichester launched a programme of religious persecution on a scale never witnessed before in Ireland. He now rigidly enforced an earlier law which fined ordinary Catholics a shilling for every Sunday they failed to attend a Protestant church... In Drogheda, Chichester personally led the campaign to force Catholics to attend Protestant services. One Catholic gentleman went as far as the church door but would go no further, whereupon Chichester told him, blandly at first, and then savagely, to go in, and... struck him a cruel blow on the head with his stick. Then the macebearer attacked him so savagely that he fell to the ground like a dead man, and the viceroy had him dragged into church, where he lay insensible and gasping all the time of the sermon, and no one dared approach him. (69)

The man died shortly after. It's hardly a seeker sensitive approach, nor even a gospel minded invitation for people to come in. Once the plantation began in earnest, there was some urging of ministers to come to the pagan land:

Art thou a Minister of Gods word? make speede, the harvest is great, but the laborers be fewe: that shalt there see the poore ignorant untaught people worship stones and sticks: thou by carrying millions to heaven, maiest be made an archangell. (144 - from a pamphlet written by Thomas Blennerhasset, an undertaker planting in Lurg and Coolmakernan in County Fermanagh)

Others became Church of Ireland because it was politically convenient to do so:

The turbulent marchlands of England and Scotland [from whence came the Border Rievers] had not been known for their piety. Here families had hardly been touched by the Reformation. Arriving in Ulster in search of land to rent, they quickly found it politic and economically advantageous to be Protestants. Barely aware of Presbyterian or Puritan theology, they conformed to the state-sponsored church. This explains why such a large number of Protestants in Co. Fermanagh became, and remained, members of the Church of Ireland. (148)

While it appears that King James was a gospel man, his advisors were not thus inclined:

In 1604 the English Privy Council informed Adam Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, that King James believed 'true religion is better planted by the word than the sword', but Loftus and Thomas Jones, the Lord Chancellor (who was to succeed Loftus in that post), responded that they were unable to see 'how, without some moderate course of coactions, they can be reclaimed from their idolatry to come to hear the glad tidings of the truth.' In short, 'coaction' (force) might be required to bring about the conversion of natives to the reformed faith.(198)

No wonder the gospel has singularly failed to take root in this island! The situation was scarcely likely to improve - the newly appointed Bishop of Derry, Raphoe and Clogher was more concerned with his lands and incomes than with the preaching of the gospel. Similarly, Trinity College Dublin, founded to provide reformed clergy, was sending out on average no more than five graduates per year. The Archdeacon of Clogher in 1622 admitted that 'many of his clergy were "scarce endowed with a mediocrity of learning."' (202)

Tensions between settlers and natives militated against any prospect of mass conversions to the reformed religion among the Gaelic Irish. In any case an alien religion whcih vilified their cherished beliefs and traditions would be preached by men speaking an alien tongue, who often regarded them as pagans, savages and barbarians. Further alienation was brought about by the manner in which the established church imposed its exactions on the native population. Resistance to conversion was strengthened by the eagerness of bishops and clergy of the state church to punish and exploit them through the ecclesiastical courts. (203)

There was another element of sadness in the political machinations, and that centred on the driving out of the Presbyterian clergy. For the first thirty years or so, Presbyterian clergy were welcomed within the Church of Ireland, ministering and preaching the gospel. (Crawford Gribben has written more extensively on this feature of the Church of Ireland at the time). As Bardon writes,

Scottish Presbyterian ministers were readily accepted as parish clergy in Ulster without being forced to subscribe to prescribed liturgy and articles of faith. This explains why there was no serious attempt to set up a presbytery in Ulster until 1642. (203)

But come that fateful time, everything would change.

Wentworth, after denying Catholics the right to public office, now turned on Presbyterians who did not toe the line. Until now the Church of Ireland had tolerated a wide range of Protestant beliefs and practices. This suited Scots very well: most of those settling in Ulster were Presbyterians, who, since they did not yet have their own church here, were content to join the Church of Ireland. And all over Ireland, Protestants in this, the established church, tended to be Puritans, favouring plain forms of worship and dress.
Wentworth was determined to change all that. Bishops using the High Church pomp, ceremony, chanting and liturgy favoured by the King [Charles] replaced the ones that the Irish Protestants prefered. Bramhall... was appointed Bishop of Derry in 1634, and from 1636 he led a court of high commission to supervise diocesan courts and enforce state policy, with the power to confiscate and imprison.

The Presbyterians were driven out, with many fleeing to New England on the Eagle Wing. The Black Oath was the final straw, one of the factors leading to the fall of Charles I and the Civil War, as Clotworthy of Antrim appealed to Parliament on behalf of the Puritans and Presbyterians. But the damage was done, the Church of Ireland was rent asunder, the other Protestants driven out, confirmed by the deprivation of any remaining Presbyterian clergy by Bishop Jeremy Taylor of Down, Connor and Dromore.

It appears that tensions between the churches were magnified in the closing years of the 1600s:

Clergy of the Church of Ireland were particularly alarmed by the influx of Scots immigrants. In several parts of Ulster, Presbyterians formed overwhelming majorities - Jonathan Swift was unhappy at Kilroot not only because he was thwarted in love but also because he had almost no Anglicans living in his parish. Ulster Presbyterians threatened the privileges of the established church and made inroads on Anglican congregations too often neglected by worldly or absentee clergy. (307)

It seems to be a bleak century for the progress of the gospel in Ireland, despite the many opportunities that may have been opened through the plantation. Politics reigned supreme, with the cause of Christ relegated to a minor concern or as a tool to be used to beat and break the natives. While lamenting what has gone before, surely we must heed the warnings and seek to ensure that we are a lively gospel witness, not a tool of government or civil society. An island of lost souls still cries out in need, just as Saint Patrick first heard the call and came to preach Christ crucified. Will we play our part in this, our generation?

Book Review: The Plantation of Ulster

Ireland has always been a troubled and contested territory - through the arrival of the Gaels, and subsequent risings and rebellions and conflicts and battles and wars. The northern province of Ulster has seen more than its share of violence, and in this new book, Jonathan Bardon seeks to survey the history of the plantations of the 1600s. 'In seeking the origins of Northern Ireland's present discontents, historians and social scientists alike are again and again brought back to the British colonisation of Ulster in the seventeenth century.' It's an important study, all the more so because of the many 'widely held assumptions' which are flawed (or at least in need of refinement).

There is every indication that this volume will become the key text for the student of Irish history, with substantial detail and extensive footnotes, yet it will also be a good, solid introduction for the general reader with an interest in the history of Ulster. The unraveling of the threads of our present situation is clear and draws the reader in as the story unfolds. Indeed, there are many echoes and recognisable features from those days to these which are emphasised by the author.

The story begins in the 1570s with the various failed attempts at plantation on the island of Ireland. Sir Thomas Smith in the Ards and Upper Clandeboye in 1571 which was destroyed by Sir Brian MacPhelimy; another attempt by Walter Devereux; the planting of Laois and Offaly (Queen's and King's Counties); as well as Munster and Monaghan. A portrait of life in Ireland at the time is presented, with the Gaelic customs and rituals. Queen Elizabeth's war on the Irish Gaelic lords is portrayed, including the huge English losses at the Battle of the Yellow Ford near Blackwatertown. Mountjoy, appointed Lord Deputy, continues to wage the war, including the decisive victory at the Battle of Kinsale on Christmas Eve 1601 - probably due to Irish incompetence. The rout was described in the Annals of the Four Masters in the following way: 'manifest was the displeasure of God.'

The news of Kinsale spread rapidly, with word of 'bonfiers' in London to celebrate the victory - the Ulster custom of Eleventh night bonfires has an even earlier pedigree than the Williamite wars. The intrigue surrounding the surrender of O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone to Queen Elizabeth at Mellifont Abbey is ironic. Unknown to him, but known by Mountjoy - the Queen who had died several days earlier.

In further echoes of current disputes, Bardon notes the frustration held by loyal subjects at the English pardon and restoration for rebels such as Tyrone. As Sir John Harrington wrote:

'I had lived... to see that damned rebel Tyrone brought to England, honoured and well liked... How I did labour after that knave's destruction! I adventured perils buy sea and land, was near starving, ate horseflesh in Munster, and all to quell that man, who now smileth in peace at those who did hazard their lives to destroy him: and now doth dare us old commanders with his presence and protection.'

A similar sentiment heard among many of those who kept the peace and fought the terrorists in modern day Ulster, who now see them in government.

Another resounding feature seems to be the incompetency of government and the triumph of shoddy administration and bureaucracy. The frequency of surveys, reports and inquiries, and the underestimation of the scale of plantation and the overestimation of the possibility of success seems to have been adopted by their successors in the Civil Service!

Something that I found fascinating was the fact of the mass movement of peoples which was occurring in the 1600s. Of course there was the movement across the Irish Sea from England and Scotland to Ireland. There was also the beginning of emigration across the Atlantic to America. But perhaps the most interesting was the Scottish migration to Poland in the early 1600s. Could it be that the Polish people we're welcoming to our shores these days are the children of those first migrants? History will never allow simple xenophobia.

As the Plantation begins with the opportunity presented by the Flight of the Earls in 1607, Bardon continues to focus in on the key players, their personalities and purposes. There is also plenty of information about the development of our counties, cities, towns and villages. The local reader will find many of the features of our surroundings very familiar, and often dating from this time of renewal and plantation. The plantation of Londonderry receives special attention, through Sir Cahir O'Doherty's rebellion and the subsequent plantation by the City of London through The Honourable, The Irish Society.

Bardon draws the story of the plantation through the rest of the seventeenth century, with the horrors of the 1641 rebellion and the ensuing 'civil' wars. As the author notes, 'Few periods of Irish history are as confusing as the 1640s' - due to the various factions in Ireland fighting against and combining with each other based on loyalties and alliances with the factions and sides in the English Civil War.

I was also interested in the role of the Church of Ireland during the plantation - but my reflections on that have grown so large that they'll appear in a separate blog post!

All in all, this is a brilliant book, fairly presenting the facts of the events surrounding the Ulster Plantation, and allowing the reader to draw the conclusions and trace the effects of those heady days. Having had an interest in Irish history (and even written an overview of Irish history), there was much that was familiar to me - a good reminder of 'old friends'. However there was much that was new to me, with fascinating details and local stories that will stick with me.

I thoroughly recommend this book for anyone who wants to understand Northern Ireland as it stands, and those who wish to get a grasp of the turbulent days of plantation in the north of Ireland. The Plantation of Ulster by Jonathan Bardon is available from Amazon(Kindle).

The Orange Order: Faith Proclaimed or Feet Parading?

The other day, I was in a national shop in a local town. The assistants are always polite, always friendly, mostly chatty. Picking up and scanning the copy of The Irish News I was buying, the lady quickly made a few assumptions and asked me who would win on Sunday. I had to confess that I didn't know what she was talking about. It turns out it was the GAA Football Ulster Final yesterday between Donegal and Monaghan, which was won by Monaghan 0-13 to 0-7, although I couldn't have told you that without looking.

The assumptions were plain and obvious - buy the Irish News, be a Roman Catholic / Nationalist / Republican, and chat about Gaelic Football. It's precisely because those assumptions are in place (similarly, probably with those on the 'other side' who buy the Newsletter) that I wanted to share a couple of articles from The Irish News last week. Many who need to read them would never ever pick up a copy of The Irish News - but perhaps they'll read them here.

They are both by William Scholes, the faith and religion editor, and were published on Thursday 18th and Friday 19th July. First up, 'Faith proclaimed becoming lost to order's feet proclaiming.'

In it, he explores the 'juggernauts of religion, culture and politics' colliding for the Orange Order. Reflecting on the scenes from the Woodvale Road after they were banned from returning along the Crumlin Road past Ardoyne shops, he says, 'Sorting out where it stands on faith would seem to be central to that.' As he declares, 'Something has clearly gone badly wrong for the Orange Order, certainly in Belfast, if feet parading has become more important than faith proclaimed.'

While recognising that Belfast is a case apart, and in other places, such as Fermanagh, the Twelfth is an entirely different kind of a day, it all comes down to identity:

It seems to be a question of identity. If the Christian's identity lies "in Christ", then while flags, parades and other expressions of culture can remain vitally important, they are no all-consuming.

My thought is on how the actions of attacking the police can be a witness to the love of Christ and his concern for the lost.

The second article came a day later, entitled 'Orange Order needs to have critical friends.'

Scholes focuses on the debate in the recalled Stormont Assembly on Tuesday on the parades issue.

There was going to be a showdown. And after a weekend of violence, intemperate words and the usual blame game, this wouldn't just be any old showdown.
It would be Achilles stepping out of his tent on the Plain of Scamander and confronting Hector at the gates of Troy. It would be King Henry V at Agincourt on Saint Crispin's Day.
But in the end, it was more like Noggin the Nog. Or was it Mike the Knight?
Tuesday's debate at the recalled assembly was the build up to the let-down, at least for anyone expecting a full-on blood on the carpet battle..
For anyone who clings to the belief that politics is the answer to our problems, there were glimmers of hope to be discerned.

The end point and conclusion of his opinion piece should provide a plan for the future:

It is highly tempting for the silent majority of the Protestant community - as if it were a homogeneous bloc in the first place - to allow its apathy towards the Orange Order in Belfast to turn into disavowal.
But that would be a mistake. If Orange ears are apparently shut to nationalists, then it is for other Proetstants to help them see another way.
Some might prefer the order to stop paying lip service to a Christianity its actions at Woodvale contradict but as long as being "Christ-centred" is part of its DNA, Church leaders in particular will have a duty to be involved.

Two important articles, albeit almost entirely hidden away from the eyes who most need to see them, because they're appearing in the Irish News. We give thanks for the peaceful parade / protest on Saturday, but the order needs to find a new way forward, sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ with the whole community as a matter of first priority.

Note: Both articles are used with the permission of the author, William Scholes.