Chapter 3 — Ferryhouse

Introduction

A report has been compiled by Mr Ciaran Fahy, consulting engineer, on the physical surroundings of Ferryhouse, with particular reference to the buildings. A copy of this report is appended to this chapter.

As can be seen from the following charts, there were between 150 and 200 boys in Ferryhouse until the 1970s. In January 1885, a Certificate was granted for the School to receive 150 boys and, in 1944, this Certificate was increased to 200. The numbers in Ferryhouse ranged from 189 boys in 1940, increasing to a high of 205 in 1960. This number decreased to 160 in 1970, but it was still a high number of boys. Thereafter, the numbers began to gradually decline. Up until the 1980s, the numbers were far in excess of the certified number.

Numbers in other schools began dropping from the 1950s onwards, but Ferryhouse continued to be at or near its capacity, largely because it took children from other schools. Upton closed following a major fire in 1966, and 28 boys were transferred to Ferryhouse. The chart below shows the breakdown of numbers of residents throughout the years:

Year	Certification number	Type of admissions
1884	licence for 150 children	Committed
1900	155 children	Committed
1910	154 children	Committed
1920	127 children	Committed
1930	193 children	Committed and voluntary
1940	189 children	Committed and voluntary
1950	182 children	Committed and voluntary
1960	205	Committed and voluntary
1970	160	Committed and voluntary
1994	140	Committed and voluntary
1995	80	Committed and voluntary
1996	56	Committed and voluntary
2004	36	Committed and voluntary

The boys were aged between nine and 16 years.

On first entering the School, several complainants described being over-awed by the numbers. One witness, who went there in the late 1940s, described his first day as follows: Oh, it was frightening, to see them big doors open. I was introduced to the Rector at the time ... who was a very nice man, he was, very pleasant. I was taken into a room. I was given some bread and cocoa, a change of clothes ... Then you could say I was thrown out into the yard with the other boys, really frightening ... I have never seen so many boys in my life. I thought – well, I should imagine you would expect about 50 or 60 like that was in [the convent] but when you see about 200, oh dear.

A resident who was in Ferryhouse in the 1940s described his first day as fearful. His mother had recently died and five of the large family were sent to Ferryhouse. He recalled: When I arrived, we were brought in a front door and then you came through a kind of a cloister and you came out a door and there was a clock over the door – now you didn’t see that until you came back in – and I seen this massive amount of boys. There was about 200 boys there at my time when I arrived there. There was a massive amount of boys, all ages, running, and shouting. It drove the fear of God in you and that’s the truth. We kind of cuddled together, the five of us.

Another witness, in Ferryhouse in the late 1960s, also stressed the frightening impact of so many boys together at one time. On recalling his first day: We were escorted up to a laundry house and, if I am not mistaken, the laundry house would have been underneath the main stairs or somewhere in that area of the main building of Ferryhouse before you go out to the yard from the Rector’s office. There was a little laundry room there which Br Leone1 was running and there he handed you out whatever clothing or blankets, I can’t remember what it was. I remember the smell of the laundry room. That is all I remember of it. When I walked out the door that day and seen so many boys running around, I think it was the first and last time I actually had a good cry because I knew where I was. I didn’t know there was no come back, but I knew that was the first time I actually said to myself I really missed my mother. I realised I was after being taken away.

Another witness described a similar routine at mealtime: You lined up every morning for your meals ... the small guys up the front and the bigger lads at the back. It would be like an army ... you would go in and line up. There was 11 at each table and you had a leader at the top of the table, he was responsible for cutting the horrible block of margarine that each one got a square of.

By the 1960s, the nineteenth-century buildings were becoming dilapidated and outmoded. A surprise inspection by the Department of Education of Ferryhouse, on 21st July 1966, referred to outmoded methods of housing children. Dr Lysaght, the Medical Inspector, described ‘a depressing air of mass communal living’ due to the large size of the dormitories and the large number of beds. His report, which is dealt with below, recommended that the dormitories should be broken into smaller units, and the Department responded by sanctioning six new prefabs for the School. These changes prefaced the huge rebuilding programme undertaken a decade later.

After the School was rebuilt, some complainants described their first impression as favourable. A resident who went there in the late 1980s, after Ferryhouse had been rebuilt, said: The first day we went down I was with the police and they were showing us around. They brought us out in the building first, they showed us where we would be just so we would settle in. Then they brought us all around the buildings, telling us what buildings was which and then brought us out to the back where there was a kind of farm, just showing us where the animals were and saying if we wanted we could help out with the animals and all. Looking around it was real nice, I thought it was going to be nicer than when I was in Michael’s beforehand, because I was in St. Michael’s for three weeks before going down. I was thinking it was real open, not closed doors everywhere. I thought it was a real nice place and I thought it would be okay.

Later he added: The first few weeks it was more or less the same like, everybody was okay. Then I think the first time I got hit was when I was in a fight with one of the lads, we had a disagreement.

The conditions within Ferryhouse, and its atmosphere, were vividly described by some of the former and current members of the Rosminian Order. One priest, Fr Antonio,2 who was there in the late 1960s and 1970s, described the grim conditions that he found prior to the rebuilding of the School. He told the Investigation Committee: Things were very Dickensian in the place at the time in 1967/68 ... Things were very, very bad at that time. My first vision of the dormitory were all these beds in the big dormitory, full stretched up the whole way, and all the wet beds on one side of the dormitory which was a very Dickensian situation and a cruel situation at that time. One of the earliest memories I would have had going in there was a place at the end of the stairs and a young 12 year old would be in charge of the laundry and he would go in and take out all these shirts and bring them out and put them on the beds. A tall fella could have a shirt down to his navel and another fella could have his shirt down to his ankles. ... Some of the saddest memories I would have is of the boys who wet their bed bringing out their sheets to laundry in the morning because there was only one woman in the laundry and they used to have to bring them out.

With small variations, the daily timetable for the boys and staff in Ferryhouse followed the activity pattern set out below:

Time	Activity for boys	Duty for staff
6.30		Rise/ prepare breakfast etc
7.30		Mass
8.00	Boys called/ Wash and dress	Raise boys Supervise
8.30	Mass then breakfast/ polishing boots and clothing inspection etc	Supervise
9.00	School/ Workshops/technical classes Mondays and Wednesdays	Return to dorms to check all is clean
11.30	Playtime	Supervise
12.00 to 12.45	Catechism
12.45 to 1.00	Playtime	Supervise
1.00	Dinner/play	Supervise
2.30	Workshops
3.00	Band until 4.45 for players
5.00	Play	Supervise
5.30	School
7.45	Supper/Play	Supervise
9.00	Bed	Supervise until night watchman arrives/ on call

In earlier years, the boys started earlier, but shifts in the time scale did not alter the basic routine.

For this daily routine to run on time, the boys had to be drilled with near military precision. As one priest, Fr Ludano,3 who stayed at the School in the late 1940s and early 1950s, put it: Probably even at that time I considered it harsh ... well, there was a lot of regimentation, some of which I didn’t think was necessary. It was run almost on army lines, which I think was unnecessary.