2 March 2023 - Flipbook - Page 60
60
FARMWEEK
JANUARY 28 2021
HORSEWEEK
Philip’s pony express adventure
PHOTO SHOOT: Left,
Wendy (9), Philip (11),
Michael (12), Anne
(13) and Terry (13)
posed for pictures
on a bridge over the
Liffey. (FW04-512NN)
PHILIP Swann (aka Swanny) from Crumlin,
Co. Antrim is a well-known face in eventing
and hunting circles and he has run many
successful charity shows over the years.
What people probably don’t know is that he
has a rather interesting horsey background
and experienced many pony adventures
along the way... Perhaps the most exciting of
which was participating in a ‘pony express’
all the way from Dublin to Belfast! Philip
writes:
MADAM,
My name is Philip Swann and I was born in
September 1949 in Bruslee near Ballyclare.
When I was six, we moved to Templepatrick
and, shortly after that my father, Emile bought
three ponies and a horse in Donegal and
brought them home and that was the start of
the Templepatrick Riding School!
It proved very popular, so more and more
ponies and horses were bought and new
stables were built. On a Saturday, there
would have been between 30 and 40 children
up riding and helping out with the ponies.
During the week, it was mainly adults and,
on a Sunday, mostly families. Dr Bill from
Templepatrick was the main man, who sorted
out any injuries.
From as far back as I can remember, we
were always doing stunts with the horses and
ponies, so I never thought much about it. I
think it was a reporter/ photographer from the
Belfast Telegraph called Stanley Matchet, who
would phone Emile and ask him to do various
stunts with the ponies in Belfast, so he could
get a story for the paper. It could have been
anything from a bus strike to a ship yard
strike or a postal strike - all Stanley wanted
was a picture and a story! In later years, Eddie
McIlwaine took over and would ask for some
stunt or other, which we would gladly do.
We helped to advertise big pictures for the
Ritz Cinema - Ben Hurr, Oklahoma and loads
of other western shows were always on the
go. At Christmas time, we would have taken
Santa (on a horse-drawn at-bed cart with a
pony escort) to Robb’s department store in
Belfast and on Christmas morning, we visited
Muckamore Abbey and brought the ponies
up to the ward windows, so the children and
adults could see them. At these stunts, we
were all in fancy dress costumes and had
to ride the ponies into Belfast and, after it
was over, ride them back home again. The
‘troubles’ put an end to this practice, but it
was great fun and we got free tickets to the
cinema and to see Santa in Robb’s.
Three stunts, which really stick in my mind
were being on stage in the Empire Theatre with
the late James Young, when we (my brother
Terry, sister Wendy and I) were playing a
circus troop, which was an introduction to
one of Jimmy’s monologues about a circus
trick rider. I was the clown trick rider; Terry
was the mounted ring master and Wendy was
riding the beautiful palomino pony. The other
two stunts were long distance rides - one from
Cork to Ballyclare and the other was a ride
from Dublin to Belfast, which was the rst
long ride.
Terry, Wendy, myself and two other children
from the riding school, Anne Austin and
Michael Black, were told to start practising
riding in formation for a stunt which was
coming up. It was all ‘hush hush’ and was
quite strange, because the Swanns at that time
were not known for rehearsing or practising...
and to be truthful, still aren’t! But practise
we did, with Terry taking point, Wendy and
I riding abreast, then Anne and Michael. We
rode in single le, formed into ve abreast,
wheeled to the left in formation, mounted and
dismounted to Terry’s command until we had
it down to a tee.
PONY EXPRESS
At last we were told what was going to
happen. We were going to do a pony express
ride with a letter from the Lord Mayor of
Dublin to the Lord Mayor of Belfast and to
deliver it to him at the Lord Mayor’s Show on
the Saturday. We would be riding throughout
the night and taking it in turns to carry the
letter, like a relay race. As you can imagine, we
were all excited and couldn’t wait.
Emile and Roy Hamilton would drive the exWD Royal Navy petrol Bedford lorry, which
had been converted into a horse lorry of
sorts to carry the ponies. Antrim man Dennis
Young drove an old J2 van (I think that was
the type of van), with Laura, our mother. Her
duties were to look after us, make the grub
THANK YOU LETTER:
Right, Philip received
a letter of thanks and
good wishes from the
Lord Mayor of Dublin.
(FW04-513NN)
and also to rub our bums with ointment and
methylated spirits to stop us getting saddle
sores from the constant riding! Us children
also slept in sleeping bags in this van during
the ride.
Audrey Bruce looked after the ponies
and another man called Eamon something,
who had a wife or girlfriend, drove a red
convertible sports car and he came along
to do any running about during the stunt.
Eamon had a signet ring with a watch in it and
apparently did not to have a belly button (it’s
amazing what sticks in your mind as a child!).
We all saw the ring with the watch, but I can’t
remember about his belly button...
We arrived into Dublin and the rst thing we
did was have a photo shoot. We were all taken
to a bridge over the Liffey and sat on it while
we had our picture taken. Laura was rather
nervous, because Terry and Anne were the
only two with any sense - the rest of us were
a ‘bit witless’ and her only thoughts were that
we would fall into the Liffey!
From there, we went to an aunt and uncle
of Laura’s, where we were fed and then put
to bed for some sleep, because we would be
riding all night and half of the next day, so we
needed a good rest. The girls were put into
one room and the boys into another room,
which had several tailor’s dummies and a
mannequin. Well it wasn’t too long before we
were messing about with the dummies and
having a power of fun and even annoying the
girls. Unfortunately, the fun came to an abrupt
end when Laura came running up the stairs
and read the riot act to us.
Soon, we were all dressed and on our ponies
and riding through Dublin to Mansion House
and the Lord Mayor. We were very smartly
turned out in blue eecy type jumpers
with Templepartick Riding School on the
back, white shirts, red ties with white TRS
embroidered on them, white jodhpurs and
gloves and shiny boots. The ponies were all
well-groomed, feet oiled, manes nicely plaited
and tack polished. New white saddlecloths
with a red border and black TRS in one corner,
we denitely looked and felt the part!
We rode in one, two, two formation until
we arrived at Mansion House. Terry was on
‘Shep’, Anne on ‘The General’, Michael on
‘Polly’, I was on ‘Benny’ and Wendy on ‘Butch’.
On reaching Mansion House, Terry gave
the order and we formed into ve abreast,
wheeled left and came to a halt at the steps
of the building, where the Lord Mayor and
some guests were standing. On command,
we all dismounted, Anne took Terry’s horse
and Terry marched smartly up the steps and
saluted the Mayor and his party. After a brief
introduction, the Mayor handed Terry the
letter, addressed to the Lord Mayor of Belfast.
Terry took the letter, put it into his haversack,
saluted the Mayor and marched back to his
horse.
At this stage, the Mayor came down the
steps and shook hands with all of us and
wished us good (or God) speed. Terry gave
the order and we all mounted our ponies and
gave the Mayor a wave and set off ve abreast
along some main road in Dublin, before going
back to one, two, two formation at the trot.
RTE had a camera van, which took some lm
of us riding through Dublin and the public
were waving and clapping as we rode past - I
remember feeling really happy and important.
It was May 19, 1961. The weather was ne as
we left the city and we were full of beans and
excited at the thought of riding through the
night. Somewhere on the outskirts of Dublin,
we started the relay and the other ponies were
put on the lorry and Wendy set off on her own.
Considering our ages ranged from nine to 13,
it was a big undertaking - although we never
thought about that, we were just having fun!
Emile’s instructions to us were to keep
riding along the main road and if we had to
make a turning, Eamon, in his red sports
car, would be at the junction. There was no
one at the front and no one at the rear with
hazard lights ashing to warn other trafc - I
don’t think hazard lights had been invented
at that time! When darkness fell, Laura had
made up a belt with two bicycle torches tied
to it. Laura had screwed the glass off the rear
light and put an old paper poppy into it and
screwed the glass back on so it would show
red when switched on. However, to save the
batteries, we had to switch the torches on
when we saw a car coming and switch them
off again once the car had passed. I remember
it was a moonlit night and not all that cold,
and I think we changed places every ve or
six miles. Sometimes, if there was a village or
town, Emile would have told ones about what
was happening and a small crowd would have
gathered to watch the changeover and that
was another round of applause.
CUSTOMS
There wasn’t all that much happening when
you were out in the country, we got an odd
wave from someone at the side of the road and
the odd toot of a horn as a car passed. I was
riding my turn, as we came up to the customs
post, both sides of the road were lined with
trees and I felt like a cowboy in a lm and was
playing shooting Indians, who were hiding in
the trees. As I approached the custom hut, the
next thing the door opened and the custom
ofcer walked out onto the middle of the road
and put his hand up for me to stop. Well, ip,
I thought ‘what do I do now?’. “Hello sir”, he
said. “What’s your name and what’s your
business at this late hour?”
The Indians I was trying to shoot a few
minutes earlier faded into the darkness as I
tried to say something. I remember saying to
myself, my name’s Philip Swann but nothing
was coming out from my mouth - it was
probably opening and shutting like a goldsh.
Eventually, after what seemed like minutes,
I told him my name and he smiled and said
he had been waiting for me and reached me
a paper bag before wishing me good luck
and good night. I thanked him and road off
still shaking, but once I looked in the bag
everything changed, as there were Frye’s
Cream chocolate bars, Nestles chocolate,
some sweets and a snake and ladder’s game.
Needless to say, I was given a hand to eat the
chocolate once back at the van!
Somewhere this side of Newry, Emile
discovered we were too far ahead of our target
time and would be in Belfast far too early, so
we stopped in a stable yard and put the ponies
into a stable and the riders had a sleep before
having a slap up breakfast. I don’t know if it
was just a chance meet or more likely that
Emile knew the stable yard owner and had it
arranged with him, but we didn’t care.
Once more we rode in one, two, two
formation through part of the town and then
set off one at a time and the rest of the ponies
were put back on the lorry. I remember I was
riding through Banbridge and rode through
the undercut and under the bridge, even now
if I’m driving through Banbridge, it brings
back memories of that morning!
I don’t really remember riding through
Belfast or where we had to gather for the start
of the Parade, but I remember there were loads
of people and oats and several horse-drawn
carts, drays and at vans. Soon the parade got
underway and we rode ve abreast, Terry’s
horse was a bit excited with the noise of the
bands and was prancing about, so he went
out in front and we rode four abreast and the
crowd were clapping Terry’s horse, thinking it
was supposed to dance to the music!
As we approached the rostrum where the
Mayor and dignitaries were seated, Terry
once again gave the order and we left wheeled
up to the foot of the rostrum and dismounted.
Anne took Terry’s horse and Terry marched
up to the Mayor and saluted him and handed
over the letter from Dublin. Just as the Mayor
was about to say something, my pony, ‘Benny’
stretched himself and started to piddle and
piddle and piddle - he must have been saving
it up for hours! Anyone who has been near a
horse when it’s piddling, especially on tarmac,
will know that it looks like there are gallons
of wee and it is quite pongy... In fact, it’s very
pongy and, on a warm day it’s really pongy.
Onlookers were having a good laugh, as
Terry gave the order to mount and we rode
off to rejoin the parade. Back at the rostrum, I
could see men with brushes trying to clean it
up, but I don’t know what they did about the
smell. We all had a good laugh about it as we
trotted along, waving at the crowd. The next
thing we knew it was all over and we were
back home, as though nothing had happened.
Wendy, my sister, was only nine at the time
and hasn’t a big recollection of the ride,
although some things she does recall. In the
middle of the night, she was riding through a
small town and was a bit disappointed because
no one was standing along the road to give
her a clap and, on another occasion, she was
riding along and the elds on both sides of the
road were covered with electricity pylons and
it scared her, but she has no idea now why it
did at the time. The other thing which sticks
in her memory is everyone laughing at my
pony piddling in front of the Lord Mayor.
WHERE ARE THEY NOW?
Well, time has taken its toll and my mother
and father, Laura and Emile, are both dead,
as is Roy Hamilton. Dennis Young is living in
Templepatrick; Audrey Bruce lives in Australia
and I have no idea about Eamon and his red
sports car. Unfortunately, my brother Terry
was lost in Lough Neigh in July 1963. Wendy
married Robert and lives near Ballyclare. I
married Jean and live on the Randox Road in
Crumlin. Michael Black lived off the Antrim
Road in Belfast and went to BRA. Anne Austin
also lived in Belfast; she went to Princess
Gardens School and she could play the piano.
After writing this, it has given me the urge
to try and get to get in touch with Anne
and Michael, as it will soon be the 60th
anniversary of our ride. Perhaps they might
read this or someone who knows them may
see it and say to them, because the chance of
me nding them on the computer is zilch!
I hope their memories of our pony express
adventure are as fond as mine.
Yours etc,