‘We have to preserve our past’
The Magpie Collection, raising money for Debra Ireland, is opento the public from Friday-Sunday, August 27-29
The Magpie Collection is how owner John Clancy titles the exhibition open to the public for viewing for the first time this weekend. It’s a good name, reflecting that popularly held, if unfounded, trait of magpies to hoard things that once belonged to others.
Everywhere you look there are things. Lots and lots of things. Everything and anything. All old things, many from Virginia.
An iron wheel that once worked the old pump at Town Square is stood against a wall, there’s an enormous set of scales for weighing coal nearby, an old Raleigh partners a Rudge bike, there’s a boulder called ‘the auction stone’ upon which the McKenna & Farrell auctioneers stood to take bids on fair days, there’s a lethal looking implement that turns out to be a turnip slicer, and there’s a dinky little cart looking like something from a Noddy and Big Ears book.
“It’s a fire brigade handcart - that, believe it or not, is what they had on the night of the convent fire,” says John Clancy, jolting us out of the realms of quirky curios and into sobering local history. The 1943 tragedy at St Joseph’s Orphanage in Cavan claimed 36 lives, and those fighting the blaze were seemingly unequipped to do anything to lessen that number. “That was more or less what they had, a couple of rolls of hoses.
“The fire service really was only formed after that fire, definitely in Cavan. There were very few fire brigades nationally anyway. On the night of the fire, there came a fire brigade from Dundalk, on bad twisty roads. So you can imagine the fire was very well advanced at that stage.”
As a fireman for the last three decades, John has a particular interest in such artefacts. A Landrover used as a sort of prototype fire engine awaits restoration, its lustre almost extinguished by mildew. In more pristine condition is the Wexford-made trailer that would have been hitched onto the back of the Landrover, to lug a Coventry Climax engine, hoses, and suctions.
The question on the Celt’s lips of whether John’s still an active fireman is made redundant when his mobile goes off: ‘Nee-naw Nee-naw’ it wails the ringtone, and he’s informed of a nearby oil spill.
After inspecting an array of well worn farm tools, we come across a splendid tractor, dating from 1953 – a diesel Ferguson 20. Affectionately known by farmers as a Grey Mare, this one was owned by a farmer from nearby Cross.
“It was so popular, especially in Cavan, because it could go in anywhere – into a field the same area that would let in an ass and cart, its predecessor.”
There’s life in the old mare yet it seems.
“Even though it’s restored it’s still doing a bit of work. It has to bring the turf home every year,” he says. “It’s done Mizen to Malin, Spiddal to Cooley, so it’s done the length and breadth of Ireland, runs abroad, everything.”
What’s all this collecting about?
“My father [Tommy Clancy] collected a few bits and pieces, but he never had the disease as bad as me. And it really is a disease, collecting. Everyone has an addiction of some sort – it might be alcohol, drugs or whatever, I suppose this is my addiction. I just love it.
“I am collecting and exhibiting since the end of the ‘80s, early ‘90s I got into it more seriously exhibiting at vintage rallies,” he says.
The friendships built and shared passion may be the real attraction. He waxes lyrical about the local Windmill Vintage Club formed 2011, describing it as a “small but a great club” that raises huge sums of money for charity, and compares the Irish Vintage Engine and Tractor Association (IVETA) of which he is a former president to a “big family”.
What does Tina make of all this collecting?
“I think she’s given up trying to get any kind of treatment for me at this stage. I’m a lost cause.”
He laughingly recalls his son Ivan coming home from a trip to a vintage show declaring to Tina: ‘Daddy’s bought more junk!’
Thoughts the interview was winding up are soon dispelled as John walks us around the side of the house to where the garage door opens to reveal, well, even more things. Things absolutely everywhere. So many things it’s hard at first for the mind to recalibrate and untangle what these things are. Old Testament style ledgers, tools of blacksmiths, cobblers, and saddlers, churns, barrels, whiskey jars, pots and pans, a yolk to peel apples, washboards and mangles, a bronze age spear dug from a bog in Lislea, hand-written accounts by the old IRA, receipts and invoices from every store, a photo of the ‘ferry’ at Lough Ramor’s shore, Church of Ireland minutes from 1708, even St Mary’s baptismal font gate. Okay so the collection may not have much in the way of rhyme, but for John there’s certainly reason.
“I had a history teacher years ago in school, Fr Dan Gallogly and he used to say, ‘To know where you’re going, you need to know where you’re coming from’. We have to preserve our past.”
One piece of heritage he’s eager to preserve is a bugle made of copper and brass.
“This is one of the older items,” he says, explaining a Fenian band from Virginia set aside their disdain for Daniel O’Connell to play at the Liberator’s ‘monster meeting’ at the Hill of Tara in the1840s.
“This is the last surviving instrument from that Fenian band,” John says proudly. “It was played by my great-great-great-grandfather, a man called Pat McCabe.”
He agrees it’s amongst the most precious items of his collection.
“It is miracle it’s survived this long,” he marvels.
The reason for this first display is cause for another jolt. It’s free into the Magpie Collection, but they welcome any donation for Debra Ireland, a charity that helps families of people with epidermolysis bullosa (EB). This severe condition is also known as butterfly skin, because the person’s skin is as fragile as a butterfly’s wing.
John and Tina were in the process of adopting their daughter Kathleena from China in 2018 when they were told she had EB.
“We knew nothing about EB, we knew nothing about Debra Ireland,” recalls John.
“The Chinese will send all medical records, everything and anything, the last thing you actually see is a picture of the child. You have agreed to take the child before you actually see her face. It makes sense because if you seen her you’d fall in love with her and that’s it. But they want to make sure you could handle everything beforehand.”
Completely unaware of the rare genetic condition entailed, they were unsure they had the skillset to ‘handle’ this. That’s where Debra Ireland stepped in.
“Within a couple of days they had us matched up with parents of children who had EB, and had a similar version of EB as Kathleena has. For a small organisation they are absolutely brilliant.”
Before John and Tina went to China to meet Kathleena, Debra got supplies from Crumlin Hospital to bring along.
Three years later and the only obvious sign of Kathleena’s EB is strapping on her left leg, and more coverings on her joints. Dressed in a flamboyant costume, she’s full of chat, and well able to clamber up onto Ferguson 20 for a photo.
“She’s lucky, she’s starting school next week at Cross National School,” John cheerfully reports.
As such John and Tina are very grateful for support from Debra Ireland.
“That’s why we’re doing it.
“We said we’d open it up for free and if anyone feels that it’s worth anything they can throw something into a bucket and whatever’s raised will go to Debra Ireland.”
The Magpie Collection is located at the home of John Clancy and Tina Tully, Lisnabuntry, Virginia, A82 DR94. It is open from Friday, August 27, from 4-8pm; Saturday, August 28, from Noon to 6pm; and Sunday, August 29, from Noon to 5pm.