When I was growing up in Churchfield, seventy years ago, I can remember hearing that the fair day was 29th June the pattern day of St. Peter and Paul was once held on the lake shore there - where we often played when we were children. It was many years later when I was settled down here that I learned it was only held there once ever and there was a sad story about it.
When the mass evictions took place here in 1860 a man named Pat Boyle or Padraig O' Baoill as he was better known, was among the victims. This man had a pub near the grand gate here in Tourmakeady. He managed to eke out a living for himself and his wife and family from the proceeds of his little business, but like many more he had to take to the hills or the roads and try to survive. We all know how the great patriot Fr. Lavelle succeeded in resettling a lot of those unfortunate people. Pat Boyle and another Boyle family and four Lally families were resettled in Churchfield on lands the Church had owned for hundreds of years previously. They got small holdings, but adequate at the time. Pat Boyle and his friends built his house close to the road where the new graveyard is now and started up his little pub there.
The pattern day was drawing near. It was the most enjoyable day of the year for young and old at that time and the fair was always held in the fairgreen in the centre of Tourmakeady and on the roads stretching at least half a mile in opposite directions. The whole area was thronged with sheep and cattle and amusements of every kind. At the time Fr. Lavelle and Plunkett (the landlord) were at loggerheads over the evictions. The priest supported his flock in every way religiously or otherwise. Now he saw an opportunity to help Pat Boyle and the Churchfield people. He appealed to his congregation from the altar to hold the fair on the shore in Churchfield. It was an ideal place and it would give a little support to their friends there. The people responded with enthusiasm and made plans and organised in the best way they knew.
The old people said the day dawned bright and beautiful, Lough Mask must have been wearing its crown of glory. The crystal clear water shimmering in the sunlight as it reflected the clouds and its islands in the depth of its horizon. The shore with its lovely white sands stretching out to the nearest islands. The whole place a panorama of beauty just as it is today. The whin bushes were few and far between.
The location was just right, unlimited space for man and beast.
Now all the roads and boreens were leading to Churchfield. People coming in boats from Clonbur to Kilbride to celebrate Peter and Paul's day - Aonach an tSleibhne as it was known to a lot of Irish speaking people. The jobbers had no difficulty getting there or neither had the trick of the loops or the musicians. Billy Bacach was there with his pipes. There was dancing and singing and romance in the air.
The cheap jacks with their new and second hand clothes created a lot of fun and laughter as they told their jokes and praised their garments. They were comedians in their own right and very clever salesmen. Even the swing boats were there, or so I was told. Money was very scarce but still people must have had a few pennies to spend. Pat Boyle must have made a few shillings as when people bought or sold livestock they generally went to the pub to seal the deal and have a drink. The people were meeting friends and relations they hadn't seen for a long time, exchanging news and family affairs. Young and old enjoying the singing and the ballads and the gaiety.
Evening was drawing near and also there was a cloud on the horizon. It was the era of the faction rights in Ireland. The ash plants were produced. The best man from one area would challenge and fight the best man from another area. It was supposed to be a fair fight and the different teams would shake hands at the end of the day.
Lo and behold there was a terrible accident. A man got killed. Everything cam to a stand still. Shock and silence all round. Some gathered around and started to say the rosary. The priest arrived and administered the last rites and prayed with the people. The dead man was taken to his home to be waked and mourned. The crowd were soon winding their way home, tired and shocked. Such a tragic ending to a lovely day. Soon the shore was quiet and not a soul in sight.
It was the one and only 29th June held in Churchfield