Dromcollogher, a quaint village nestled in County Limerick, holds a significant place in Ireland’s cultural history, largely thanks to the renowned troubadour Percy French. During a memorable sojourn in Dromcollogher, French was so captivated by its charm that he captured the essence of the village in a lively ballad that bears its name.
However, the tribute was somewhat of a double-edged sword, manifesting the proud local’s tendency to champion his hometown to the exclusion of other places in conversation.
A classic verse of French’s song begins: “I was over in London quite lately,/I gave King Edward a call;/Says the butler, ‘He’s out, he isn’t about/An’ I don’t see his hat in the hall;…/Apartments like these are not what one sees/In your country every day.”
In his endeavor to showcase Dromcollogher, Percy French stopped short of providing any directional guidance. This omission might be fortunate, considering his notorious navigational advice regarding Ballyjamesduff, suggesting that a returning Paddy Reilly simply “turn to the left at the bridge of Finea.”
In actuality, should you mistakenly turn left at the Bridge of Finnea, you’d unwittingly find yourself heading towards one of the two lakes that border the bridge. Consequently, when searching for Ballyjamesduff, you might reconsider your starting point entirely.
My own expedition to Dromcollogher earlier this week necessitated the use of GPS technology. However, relying on it proved to be another misstep. The directions were sound until I reached Newcastle West, where I was instructed to turn left, only to discover later that the route should have been a straight shot forward all along.
Instead, the GPS rerouted me, leading to an unintended five-turn detour that provided a scenic, albeit convoluted, tour of the picturesque east Limerick countryside.
The final suggested turn directed me down what clearly appeared to be a private lane, prompting me to disregard the GPS until the voice commanded: “Return to the route!” Heeding the instruction, I followed the path, which notably led me directly into a farmyard.
I encountered similar challenges while searching for Dromcollogher in newspaper archives. The obstacles presented themselves in the form of diverse spelling variations—including the one used by Percy French. The prefix “Drom” itself is contested, as some argue instead for “Drum.”
Once settled on the prefix, the suffixes branch out into a myriad of options, from “Collogher” to “Coliher.” In an archive as rigidly meticulous as The Irish Times, which offers no leeway for spelling discrepancies, one could easily start to question the very existence of the village.
Nonetheless, I eventually arrived: both in the tangible world and through the database. Interestingly, Dromcollogher existed long before French’s famous song, with its roots tracing back to medieval times and an early mention in the Book of Leinster, dated 1160.
Aside from its lyrical tribute, Dromcollogher has numerous historical claims to fame, including pioneering the co-operative movement in Ireland through its local creamery established in 1889, a significant success story for both pre-and post-independence Ireland.
Yet, there exists a more somber chapter in the village’s history: the tragic cinema fire that marked the Free State’s first major disaster, thrusting the town into darker notoriety.
This haunting event is commemorated at the local Catholic Church, St Bartholomew’s, which features a mass grave adorned with a Celtic cross, listing the names of the 48 victims, alongside modern glass panels that depict scenes from this tragic history.
The fire’s origins trace back to a local entrepreneur named William “Babe” Ford, whose ambition led to a tragic and catastrophic result. Having befriended a projectionist from a closed Cork cinema, he borrowed the flammable nitrate reels under dubious pretenses, disguising their absence by leaving behind empty tin cans.
The ignition of the fire was fueled further by a candle that toppled onto the highly combustible nitrate film. Set in an upper-level barn with only a single entrance accessed via a precarious ladder, this setup was inherently hazardous.
Approximately 150 people had gathered to view the film False Alarm followed by the feature presentation, The Decoy, having paid as much as ninepence for entry.
In a frantic escape attempt, some local ex-IRA men recalled that bars on a window had previously been sawn through for their own hasty retreats; now they took advantage of the bent bars to help others escape.
However, as chaos ensued, an individual became stuck, effectively blocking the escape route for everyone behind them.
The tragic death toll of this disaster would equate to a similar tragedy in Dublin 55 years later, yet in 1926, in the small village of Dromcollogher, it represented a staggering one-tenth of the entire population, with many of the deceased being young children.
Even decades later, a relief fund continued to distribute payments until 1958, while the local residents also rallied to purchase the long-abandoned site of the fire.
By 1953, this site was transformed into one of Dromcollogher’s distinctive and charming features: a circular Memorial Library with a flat roof that stands as a testament to resilience and remembrance in the community.
**Interview: Discovering Dromcollogher with Local Historian, Mary O’Sullivan**
**Editor:** Welcome, Mary! Dromcollogher is such a fascinating village with a rich cultural and historical backdrop. Can you share why Percy French felt so inspired to write a ballad about it?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** Thank you for having me! Percy French was truly captivated by Dromcollogher’s charm and community spirit during his visit. His ballad reflects not just the beauty of the village, but also a sense of pride among locals—an appreciation for their roots. However, it did make for some competitive banter, as many locals tend to favor Dromcollogher over other places, thanks to French’s lyrics.
**Editor:** I understand his song has a humorous take on travel and navigation as well, particularly concerning his directions. Could you elaborate on that?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** Absolutely! French had a knack for weaving humor into his work. While he vividly depicted London and its elite, he seemed to neglect providing practical guidance for getting to other destinations, like Ballyjamesduff. His whimsical directional advice often led to more confusion than clarity, which is a quick reminder of how even the best intentions can lead to a few misadventures!
**Editor:** You mentioned your own experience trying to find Dromcollogher—what challenges did you face?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** My journey revealed just how tricky navigating to Dromcollogher can be! I relied heavily on GPS, but ended up on detours and private lanes, leading straight into a farmyard. It was comical in hindsight, but it highlighted how vital accurate directions can be—or at least, a good map!
**Editor:** Speaking of maps and names, Dromcollogher has several spelling variations that complicate research. What can you tell us about this?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** That’s quite a challenge! The prefix “Drom” or “Drum” can lead to discrepancies, and the suffix can vary quite a bit too—everything from “Collogher” to “Coliher.” It makes historical research a puzzle, especially in strict archives where spelling matters. But despite these hurdles, we eventually found meaningful connections to the village’s past.
**Editor:** Dromcollogher has a deep history beyond Percy French. Can you share some key historical events associated with the village?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** Definitely! Dromcollogher has roots tracing back to medieval times, with mentions in ancient texts like the Book of Leinster. It’s also notable for being the birthplace of the co-operative movement in Ireland with its local creamery from 1889. However, the village is also marked by sorrow, especially due to the tragic cinema fire in 1920 that claimed 48 lives. This event deeply affected the community and is commemorated at St Bartholomew’s Church.
**Editor:** That’s both inspiring and somber. Where can locals and visitors learn more about these stories today?
**Mary O’Sullivan:** There are wonderful local initiatives, including guided tours and historical exhibitions at the church. Additionally, the community is welcoming and always eager to share their history, making Dromcollogher a delightful place for anyone interested in both its triumphs and trials.
**Editor:** Thank you, Mary! We appreciate your insights into this charming village that has shaped Ireland’s cultural landscape.
**Mary O’Sullivan:** My pleasure! Dromcollogher truly has stories to tell—both in song and in history.
