Cemeteries

History of Faith, Sacrifice, and Community in Lurgan

Beneath the quiet soil of the Dougher Cemetery in Lurgan lies a vibrant tapestry of human history—a sacred ground where secret prayers offered in the pelting rain gave way to revolution, scholarly discoveries, Italian artistry, and heroic sacrifices on distant battlefields. To wander through its gates is to trace the deep, resilient roots of Lurgan’s past.

Part I: The Secret Mass and the Birth of a Parish

Long before Catholic Emancipation arrived in 1829, practising the faith was a quiet, dangerous endeavour. When the Parish of Shankill separated from Seagoe in 1788, Father John O’Kelly from Mayobridge was appointed its first administrator (later becoming Chancellor of the diocese in 1802). In those early, restrictive days, Father Kelly gathered his flock wherever shelter could be found.

His earliest Masses were celebrated in a crude wooden shed known as a “Bohog” on Mistress John McConville’s land in Tannaghmore North—a spot used secretly for worship since the dark days of Oliver Cromwell. Locals found deep, poetic comfort in these humble surroundings, taking solace in the idea that during their hardest trials, they found succour in a place so like the stable of the infant Jesus. Around 1788–1789, Mass was also quietly celebrated nearby in the home of Edward Magennis near Church Place.

The Cold Day at the Mill

The path toward a permanent home for Lurgan’s Catholics changed on a bitterly cold, rain-soaked day on the Feast of the Epiphany in 1800. William Brownlow, the local landlord, was riding past the “Mass Garden” at Tannaghmore North with his young niece. Watching men, women, and children kneeling devoutly in the pelting rain, the moved young lady asked who they were. Upon learning they were local Catholics attending Mass, she begged her uncle to give them a shelter where they could worship and be instructed in peace.

Perhaps moved by regret over the harsh treatment and expulsions his Catholic tenants had suffered five years earlier in 1795, Brownlow obliged. He presented Father William O’Brien with a disused sawmill warehouse along the Dougher River—a stream named from the Gaelic Dubhchar, meaning “Dark Cairn,” akin to the ancient passage tomb of Dowth at Brú na Bóinne. By 1822, parishioners had eagerly repaired and converted the shed into the Dougher Catholic Chapel.

From Humble Chapel to Schoolroom

Father O’Brien, who began the parish’s first registration of Catholic baptisms and succeeded Father O’Kelly as Parish Priest, approached Lord Charles Brownlow in 1827 to acquire the remainder of the site for the Dougher Cemetery. In 1829—the year of Catholic Emancipation—Father O’Brien requested further land in the townland of Derry (now North Street) to build a proper, larger church.

When the new Saint Peter’s Chapel opened in 1833, the humble Dougher Chapel was converted into a Catholic Boys’ School. Attached to the wall just behind the left-hand gatepost today, a small memorial honours Eugene Mackenna (died March 13, 1868), the beloved first teacher who dedicated his life to educating the town’s youth. Subsequent masters included John Morgan, William Cullen, F. McCarthy, and J. McConville.

Tragically, among the trainee teachers was 17-year-old James Garland Junior, who died in 1858. The Garland name looms large in local history; Garland Avenue in Lurgan sits on land once farmed by the family. During the 1798 Rebellion, James Junior’s great-grandfather was executed by hanging from one of his own trees for United Irish activity.

To Mark the Altar

In the centre of the graveyard, a magnificent Penal Cross stands where the original Altar of the Dougher Chapel once rested. Consecrated in June 1877 following a mission by the Passionist Fathers, it bears silent witness alongside a Latin marble plaque inside Saint Peter’s Chapel (“Fideles hujus Paroeciae Missam sub divo per breve tempus in molendino desueto in loco Dougher”), commemorating the faithful who worshipped in the old disused mill.

Part II: Stories Written in Stone

A walk along the winding paths of the Dougher reveals the remarkable, often heartbreaking lives of the families resting here.

1. The Tragic Cost of the Great War: The McCann Family

Just past the Victoria Street gate lies the grave of Private Joseph McCann. Before enlisting, Joseph was a young linen weaver at 12 Shankill Street Place. While serving in World War I, he was exposed to continuous 185-decibel bombardments from modern artillery. The shockwaves severely damaged his inner ears—a condition poorly understood at the time, when suffering soldiers were frequently misdiagnosed as “malingerers.” Delayed and substandard medical treatment allowed the inner-ear disease to become fatal, and Joseph died at home on October 9, 1917, aged just 24.

His family’s sacrifice echoed across the globe:

• His 20-year-old brother, Private Michael McCann, was killed in action in France six months earlier, on April 11, 1917.
• His brother-in-law, Private Hugh Patrick Mulholland, died in Egypt in August 1915 from wounds sustained at Gallipoli.
• Later, their relative Ned “Piccolo” McCann would proudly play both the American and Irish National Anthems at the opening of Davitt Park.

2. Rebellion Across the Street: Edward Costello and the 1916 Rising

Further along lies the Costello family plot of Silverwood. Among them is remembered Edward Joseph Costello, a 27-year-old clerk at Johnston and Allen’s Linen Manufacturers on Victoria Street—located directly opposite the Dougher.

In a striking historical irony, Edward’s employer, William Allen, was a prominent leader heavily involved in forming and training the Ulster Volunteer Force. Edward, however, was a committed nationalist. After marrying his wife Annie and living at 3 Castle Lane, he moved to Dublin in 1914 for work, finding employment as a pawnbroker’s assistant and joining James Connolly’s Irish Citizen Army.

During the Easter Rising of April 1916, Edward took up arms and received a fatal gunshot wound to the head on Church Street on April 25. He holds the solemn distinction of being the only volunteer from the six northern counties killed in the 1916 Rising. His widow Annie returned to Lurgan to raise their children, eventually passing away in 1959.

3. A Life of Service Cut Short: Sister Rose McGibbon

Born at 40 North Street to a musical family who performed as “The Dandy Players”—and whose father David conducted the Lurgan Musical and Dramatic Society—Rose Ann McGibbon (affectionately known as “Cis”) chose a life of military nursing.

Enlisting in June 1915 with Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service, Sister Rose sailed for Egypt aboard the Royal Mail Ship Aquitania. She served tirelessly in Suez at the 18th Stationary Hospital and 21st General Hospital. After suffering an emergency appendicitis operation compounded by influenza, she developed severe glycosuria (a diabetes-related condition) and was invalided home in December 1918.

Engaged to a doctor and preparing items for her wedding trunk, Rose’s health suddenly failed. She passed away at home on March 6, 1919, aged 34. Today, her service is permanently honoured on the Roll of Honour tablet beside the Five Sisters Window in York Minster, as well as a memorial plate in Saint Anne’s Cathedral, Belfast.

4. The Champion of the Poor: Dean Michael McConville

Marked by a tall Celtic Cross, the grave of Very Reverend Dean Michael McConville sits above the very orphans he devoted his life to serving. Born in Ardarragh in the dark famine year of 1847, Dean McConville spent nearly 47 years ministering to Lurgan.

Appalled by the plight of neglected youth, he raised funds across Ireland and Scotland to build an orphanage and a Girls’ Industrial School. In 1905, he purchased the “Irishtown” estate in Cornakinegar, transforming it into a Boys’ Industrial School (later known as Saint Michael’s). A fierce patriot, he also presided over local anti-conscription rallies alongside Member of Parliament Richard McGhee during the 1918 General Strike.

When he passed away in February 1925, his parishioners cherished his memory so deeply that they erected a magnificent marble High Altar, sanctuary mosaics, and Communion rails in Saint Peter’s to honour his Golden Jubilee and the local war dead.

Part III: Local Legends, Unexpected Tragedies, and Cultural Pioneers

The Murtagh Family: Scholars, Publicans, and Heartbreak

Located just behind Dean McConville’s grave is the Murtagh vault. Harry Murtagh and his Castle Lane pub (immortalised in Blighty McManus’s local song “Tawney Wine”) raised a family of remarkable contrast.

Father Jack Murtagh, Society of African Missions

Ordained in 1937, Father Jack studied in Rome, served as a headmaster in Egypt, and survived the disruptions of the 1956 Suez War while leading Saint George’s College in Cairo. A brilliant linguist and Egyptologist fluent in Coptic and Arabic, he was granted rare permission to celebrate Mass in the Coptic Rite. Before leaving Egypt, he researched 7th-century Coptic monastic roots, later identifying ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic influences at Camlin near Belfast International Airport.

Lost Names, Charity Graves, and the Language of the Soul

Restoring an ancient graveyard is an act of resurrection. During restoration work in the Dougher, a buried headstone was uncovered from deep beneath the turf, revealing only a single carved name—”Bridget”—hewn into a rich red marble reminiscent of the imperial crypt of Saint Helena in Rome. Who Bridget was remains a mystery, but her monument still catches the light along the railway bank.

A few steps away stands a puzzle written in stone: the grave of Charles Faloon, who died on March 25, 1786, at just 25 years old. The conundrum is that he was buried 14 years before the Dougher grounds were ever gifted to the Catholic people by William Brownlow in 1800. The simple explanation is that Charles Faloon was originally buried in nearby Shankill graveyard, and his headstone was relocated here decades later by his family. Known for their deep involvement with the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul, the Faloon family used this plot as a charity grave. Buried alongside Charles Faloon are young Charles McCrory (aged 17), Terance McCrory (aged 13), and up to thirteen unnamed paupers—given a dignified final resting place by a family who refused to let the poor die forgotten.

Nearby, another headstone stands strangely turned facing the wall. This is the memorial to John Faloon (died October 17, 1859), an earthenware dealer whose wife Margaret was a famous benefactor for Saint Peter’s and Saint Vincent de Paul—the very same family that moved Charles Faloon’s headstone from Shankill to cover the pauper graves in the Dougher.

Near the ancient boundary lies the grave of Father Andrew Lowry. Born in Clonduff in 1851, he belonged to an extraordinary family that gave six children to the Church—including his brothers, Father John and Father Joseph, and three sisters who entered the Poor Clares Convent in Newry. Ordained in 1876 at Maynooth, Father Lowry brought to every parish he served not only a devotion to the Gospel, but a passionate crusade to preserve the Irish language.

In December 1901, while serving as pastor in Mayobridge, Father Lowry rallied 300 parishioners to form a branch of the Gaelic League (Conradh na Gaeilge). Addressing the crowds, he declared that a nation’s language is its very soul, warning that a conqueror always seeks to destroy the speech of the vanquished to enforce a foreign yoke. He championed Irish as an imperishable national weapon against “soulless” cultural assimilation. When Father Lowry transferred to Lurgan in 1907—where he ministered until his death in 1929—he carried that fiery love for Irish history and language with him, cementing his reputation as a priest who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his people “for God and Ireland.”

Bequests, Dancers, and the Tragedy of Springhill

Moving closer to the railway line, we find the grave of Henry Toner. A humble man from Kinnegoe, Henry left an extraordinary will that altered the educational landscape of Lurgan, leaving his farm, livestock, and savings directly to Dean McConville to benefit the Lurgan Industrial School and Orphanage. Henry’s generosity ensured generations of destitute boys received shelter and education—a lineage that lives on today in the modern campus of Saint Ronan’s College.

Along Shore Road, everyone knew Ala Brady—a beloved local character and devoted gentleman whose physical limitations never diminished his radiant charisma. Ala went to Mass every single morning of his life, ultimately passing away peacefully in the pews of Saint Peter’s during morning service.

Ala was the nephew of Father Alphonsus McMullan, a man whose life read like an adventure novel. Raised in North Street, Alphonsus studied in Waterford, where he developed a passion for drama and traditional Irish step dancing (a skill passed down from his uncle, who had trained Lurgan’s famous McIntyre Dancers). Ordained into foreign missions, Father Alphonsus travelled from Mexico through the United States of America, preparing young American airmen spiritually before they flew into the skies over war-torn Europe. Armed with exceptional financial genius, American bishops tasked him with building parishes across the western frontier. He eventually carved a whole new parish out of the desert forests in Steubenville, Nevada. Living there, Father Alphonsus struck up a close friendship with Steubenville’s most famous native, Dean Martin, and through this showbiz connection, the dancing priest from Lurgan even taught traditional Irish step dancing to Bing Crosby.

Not far from the old entrance stands a tall memorial to the Butler family. Head Constable William Butler, a native of Kilkenny, served 17 years as a respected police officer in Lurgan before retiring. Yet his family tree bears the deep scars of Ireland’s troubled history. On July 9, 1972, during the Troubles in Belfast, British Army snipers opened fire from a timber yard overlooking the Springhill estate. When Father Noel Fitzpatrick ran into the open to administer the Last Rites to the wounded, he was shot dead. Positioned beside him was William Butler’s grandson, 38-year-old father of six Paddy Butler. The same bullet that killed the priest passed through and killed Paddy. When 15-year-old David McCaffery ran out to drag their bodies to safety, he too was shot dead. In a quiet corner of France lies another branch of the same family: Head Constable Butler’s daughter, Sister Mary John Chrysostome Butler, who joined the Congregation of the Sacred Heart of Mary in Béziers in 1876, dying tragically young in 1893 during her religious service.

Poets, Rebel Songs, and the Nemesis of Mobs

Young teacher James Garland Junior’s grandfather was James Garland Senior (circa 1770–1842), a famous hedge schoolmaster, farmer, and self-educated national poet known throughout Ulster as “The Bard of Armagh.” Operating an 8-acre farm in Shankill, Garland wrote anti-Orange ballads and songs of national defiance, enduring constant harassment from local loyalists. His famous works—including “The Banished Defenders” and “The Boys of Blaris Camp”—were sung across Ireland throughout the 19th century.

Garland’s most famous ballad commemorated the tragic execution of four militiamen at Blaris Moor (Lisburn) in May 1797. Identified by an informer as United Irish infiltrators, the two McKenna brothers, Patrick McCarron, and Billy Gillen were marched before their regiment to the tune of the Dead March in Saul, forced to kneel on their own coffins, and executed by firing squad. Garland’s haunting poem—reciting how their father forbade them from informing to save their own lives—became a rallying cry that drove thousands into the United Irishmen rebellion.

A few paces along lies Head Constable Neil McCarron, a Donegal native who joined the Royal Irish Constabulary in 1837. McCarron became legendary in Lurgan as an unyielding defender of justice. On July 12, 1860, when armed Orange mobs launched a violent attack on the Catholic Chapel, wounding locals Charles McCann and Thomas Murphy, McCarron fearlessly arrested and prosecuted the rioters, earning the lasting respect of the nationalist community before his retirement in 1867.

Part IV: Bakeries, Outrages, and Empire

Lurgan was once a town powered by the aroma of fresh bread. The Filbin family operated a famous bakery at Lurgantarry (now the Woodville Arms) and Church Place. Known for their deep charity, their descendants included Professor Marie Filbin, who became a distinguished professor of biology at Hunter College, New York.

Even larger was the Kennedy Bakery dynasty. Starting in the 1780s under John Kennedy on High Street, the business flourished under James Kennedy (1815–1905). The Kennedys were famous for employment quirks like “Slate Men”—freelance local bakers hired to cover shifts, paid directly out of the sick baker’s pocket. An eccentric character named John Faloon lived with the Kennedys, riding through the streets on a carrier bicycle selling fresh baps for a half-penny each—earning him the affectionate nickname “John the Baptist.” In 1919, James’s grandson, J.B. Kennedy, expanded the family legacy by founding the famous J.B. Kennedy Bakery in Belfast.

In the cemetery stands a sombre stone marking one of Lurgan’s darkest days. On August 15, 1879 (Our Lady’s Day), a peaceful, unarmed Catholic procession marching along North Street was set upon by police. Stipendiary Magistrate H.D. Redmond read the Riot Act and ordered officers to open fire into the crowd. A 10-year-old bystander named John Furfey and a 45-year-old crippled weaver named John Smyth were shot dead, while dozens were wounded. The memorial stone in the Dougher pulled no punches, explicitly naming Magistrate Redmond for committing a “Dastardly Outrage” against peaceful citizens.

Among the Commonwealth markers, one striking white marble headstone tells a story of Victorian military disaster. It marks the grave of William Ibbotson (aged 64), formerly of the 16th Regiment of Light Infantry and the Royal North Down Rifles. Ibbotson fought through the First Anglo-Afghan War of 1842, surviving fourteen general engagements during the catastrophic British retreat from Kabul—a disaster where 16,500 soldiers and camp followers were wiped out in the mountain passes, leaving Doctor William Brydon as the legendary lone survivor to reach Jalalabad. Ibbotson survived the horrors of the Khyber Pass, eventually retiring peacefully to Lurgan.

Also nearby are the graves of Laurence J. Murphy, County President of the Ancient Order of Hibernians whose grand Celtic Cross was unveiled in 1921 by West Belfast Member of Parliament “Wee Joe” Devlin; John McNally Justice of the Peace, manager of Lurgan’s first power-loom linen factory; and Guardsman Arthur Lavery, a 26-year-old soldier killed in a lorry accident in Germany on May 5, 1945—just three days before the end of World War II in Europe.

Part V: Transatlantic Machines and The Donnelly Dynasty

Emigration connects the Dougher directly to the rise of modern New York City. A headstone erected in 1871 by Charles Devlin honours his father James back home in Tullyhearn. Leaving Lurgan at age 26, Charles Devlin started as a journeyman baker on Frankfort Street in Manhattan. Through sheer grit and political cunning, he became one of the largest public works contractors in New York, eventually owning 75 full city blocks of Manhattan.

Devlin became a central figure in the powerful Tammany Hall political machine. In 1857, Mayor Fernando Wood appointed Devlin as City Street Commissioner, triggering a massive political feud with the New York State government. The dispute escalated into the famous New York Police Riot of 1857, where rival municipal and state police forces fought a bloody battle on the steps of City Hall—sparking the infamous “Dead Rabbits” gang riots immortalized in the film Gangs of New York. When the notorious William “Boss” Tweed took over Tammany Hall, it was Lurgan-born Charles Devlin who posted the massive financial bonds for Tweed and his inner circle.

Back home, two massive white marble Celtic crosses—crafted by Fitzpatrick’s monumental masons of Glasnevin—mark the resting place of the Donnelly family, the undisputed nationalist leaders of 19th-century Lurgan:

• Andrew Donnelly: One of Lurgan’s earliest railway entrepreneurs. In 1841, when the new Belfast-Dublin railway reached Lurgan, Andrew used it to import fresh bread daily, selling loaves at cost price (a half-penny) as a “loss leader” to help struggling families while drawing customers to his store.
• Arthur Donnelly: Considered the unofficial “mayor” of Catholic Lurgan, Arthur was the town’s first elected Catholic representative in the 1870s.

Part VI: Jim Haughey — Two Wars Against Fascism

Perhaps the most extraordinary military figure buried in the Dougher is Jim Haughey (1919–1943).

1. The Spanish Civil War

Born at 82 Lower North Street just after the Treaty of Versailles was signed, Haughey left for Spain in May 1938 to join the British Battalion of the International Brigades. Promoted to Lieutenant at just 19, he was chosen to carry the Catalan flag across the Ebro River. Though a devout Catholic—naively asking before the Battle of the Ebro if a priest would be available at the front line—his political conviction was absolute.

In late 1938, he was one of eight soldiers holding off a massive fascist assault in the Sierra Caballs mountains. Captured on the final day of the battle, Haughey asked his captors for a priest to make his last confession. Misunderstanding his request as a joke or enraged by their refusal to beg for mercy, the fascist captain bent a Colt .45 over his head, knocking him unconscious. Realizing his sincerity, they spared his life and sent him to the San Pedro de Cardeña concentration camp.

Upon his release, Haughey selflessly swapped identity papers with a Greek-Canadian prisoner, John Kambides, allowing Kambides to remain safely in Europe.

Letter to his Sister Veronica (Vancouver British Columbia, May 25, 1939)

My dear Sister,

You can’t tell how delighted I was to receive your letter this evening. Although it made me kind of homesick, its nice to know that some people at home have not forgotten me…

I arrived in Spain on the 13th of May 1938 and after I had been there for a few weeks I had to go to a hospital with malaria. I had a pretty tough constitution then so I was fully recovered within 20 days. Then I went up to the front. Our battalion went into the line 700 strong, 50 odd returned. We were in the trenches for 63 days without rest. God, Veronica, it was terrible. We had only rifles and machine-guns against hundreds of German and Italian aviation, tanks, artillery and Italian and Moorish troops. In this battle, the battle of the Ebro, Franco had more than 100,000 casualties while we had 40,000. I had umpteen narrow escapes from death which would take too long to describe. I was blown up 4 times, had my shirt and pants ripped to pieces with machine-gun bullets and was lost for three days in no-mans-land without food or water.

On the twenty-fourth of September our company was in a position on the top of a small hill. I was in command of about thirty men, the total remains of two companies. I saw that we were completely surrounded by the enemy, we had only rifles and a few revolvers so we couldn’t put up any resistance. (By the way, I was a confirmed sergeant at this time, and discovered since, that on the day I was captured, my lieutenant’s papers came through. Lieutenant Jim Haughey, how does it look, pretty good, eh? Age doesn’t matter in the trenches.) Well, we were finally captured by this time only 8 of us were left…

In the concentration camp, there were 400 of us in a room which would hold 50 comfortably, no smokes, no books, 1 toilet and one water tap for 400 men, abundance of lice, very little food, beans twice a day. For the last 3 months before we were released we were fed on bread and water, nothing else…

Give my regards to everyone, especially Numbers 82 and 84. I pray for you all every night and ask Mummy to watch over you and take care of you. I hope and trust that you won’t forget me in your prayers.

Your affectionate brother,

Ex-Lieutenant Jim

2. The Second World War and Legacy

After emigrating to Canada, Haughey learned that his father, Merchant Navy Able Seaman James Haughey, had been killed in 1942 when his ship was torpedoed by German submarine U-109.

Jim immediately volunteered for the Royal Canadian Air Force’s 407 “Demon” Squadron, serving as a wireless operator and air gunner on strike missions against German submarines and shipping. On September 12, 1943, after returning from a mission where his Wellington bomber was damaged by an enemy fighter, his plane suffered a catastrophic wing failure on a subsequent flight and burst into flames upon crash landing in North Devon.

He was brought home to Lurgan and laid to rest in the Dougher, where a commemorative stone inscribed with the famous Republican slogan “No Pasarán” (“They Shall Not Pass”) marks his grave today.

Prophetic Poem by Jim Haughey (Printed in the London Times, October 31, 1943)

(Regularly recited over his grave, reflecting on his father’s death at sea and speculating on his own forthcoming death—often compared to Yeats’s “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death”.)

I think that it will come, somewhen, somewhere

In shattering crash, or roaring sheet of flame;

In the green-blanket sea, choking for air,

Amid the bubbles transient as my name.

Sometimes a second’s throw decides the game,

Winner takes all, and there is no re-play,

Indifferent earth and sky breathe on the same,

I scatter my last chips, and go my way.

The years I might have had I throw away;

They only lead to winter’s barren pain.

Their loss must bring no tears from those who stay,

For Spring, however spent, comes not again.

When peace descends once more like gentle rain,

Mention my name in passing, if you must,

As one who knew the terms – slay or be slain,

And thought the bargain was both good and just.

New Stories, Expansion, and Parish Registers

Part I: The Donnelly Dynasty and Modern Music

Building upon the legacy of the Donnelly family in 19th-century Lurgan:

• Arthur Donnelly’s Court Case: In the 1870s, when an armed loyalist mob attacked his home, Arthur took up arms and successfully defended his family. Arrested for gun offences, he famously beat the charges in a celebrated court case (“The Trials of Arthur Donnelly”), later retold with great humour by his grandson, High Court Judge Sir Donnell Deeny.
• Emile Piché Donnelly: Upon her death in April 1959, she bequeathed the land of the Lurgan Celtic football ground and greyhound track to Shankill Parish, enabling the construction of Saint Paul’s Chapel.

A Cultural Legacy: From Kennedy’s Bakery to U2

The family’s creative legacy extended directly into modern popular culture through Michael Deeny. After qualifying as a chartered accountant and working for Kennedy’s Bakeries, Michael switched to the music business, becoming the legendary manager of the Irish folk-rock band Horslips.

Known as “the godfather of Irish music,” Deeny mentored a young Paul McGuinness and taught him the fundamentals of band management. In their autobiography U2 by U2, Bono acknowledged Deeny’s foundational role in their global success, writing that Michael Deeny “really taught Paul McGuinness all he ever knew.”

Part II: The Last Note — The Coast of Malabar

At the end of the cemetery path stands a thick marble column topped with a carved angel marking the grave of James Darragh. For generations, traditional singers in the pub sessions of Lurgan sang a haunting, bittersweet ballad about a local boy who left his home for distant seas—”The Coast of Malabar” (originally “The Maid of Malabar”), later popularized worldwide by The Chieftains and Ry Cooder.

The lyrics were written by Frederic Weatherly (who also penned “Danny Boy”). After James Darragh’s death, New York newspapers sensationalized his life story; Weatherly read the news reports and wrote the song depicting a sailor’s longing for a dark-eyed maiden on the Indian coast:

And my thoughts keep ever turning

To that far-off distant shore

And the dark eyed girl who loved me

But I’ll see her never more

Oh fare thee well, my little dark eyed queen

Fare thee well, my Indian star

In my heart you’ll live forever

On the coast of Malabar

Part III: Early Burial Registers of the Dougher Cemetery (1880–1881)

Between the winter of 1880 and the spring of 1881, the gates of the Dougher Cemetery opened to receive these early souls drawn from across Lurgan—from Queen Street and Waring Street to the outlying townlands of Kilmore and Ballinamoney.

Burials of December 1880

Burials of January – March 1881

A Snapshot of Time

These records highlight the sheer scope of human history captured within just a few months of parish records—from 11-year-old Catherine of Kilmore to 90-year-old Sarah O’Neill of Drumnakerne, born in the late 18th century, who lived through nearly a century of monumental social and industrial shift in Lurgan.

By 1937, with the ancient Dougher Cemetery rapidly running out of space, Saint Colman’s Cemetery—named after one of the patron saints of the diocese—was established as Lurgan’s new sanctuary of rest. On May 31, 1937, Bridie Berwick became the very first person laid to rest within its grounds.

The cemetery expanded significantly over the following decades, with an active extension project now underway to provide a sacred resting place for future generations of Lurgan’s sons and daughters.

Jim Conway