An old saying has it that commercial dynasties rarely survive the third generation. The first establishes the business, the second builds it up, and the third, educated and moneyed, lets it all slip away. The Findlaters were an exception to this rule. John took over from his uncle, the founder Alexander, and saw that all his sons had a first class education, two graduating with honours in Logic and Ethics from Trinity, others gaining degrees in law, medicine and engineering.
Willie
Of John’s six sons, only two— Adam and Willie—joined the business. Adam, as was the destiny of the first-born, assumed the business mantle from his father, but given a free choice might well have followed a career in politics. Of the others, we have seen that Herbert became a solicitor, and was killed at Gallipoli in 1915; Charles, who became an engineer, also joined up, and was killed on the Somme in 1916. Alex became a medical doctor, was also at Gallipoli and settled to a practice in Edgware, then a village outside London.
American John
The second son, John, born in 1858, went to the United States, like so many Irishmen—Protestant and Catholic—to earn a living. In fact contrary to the received wisdom, the ‘bulk of the Irish ethnic group in the United States at present is, and probably always has been, Protestant.’* John was born in Dublin in 1858, educated at High School like his brothers and attended a school in North Wales. He then studied for some years on the Continent, in Germany, Holland and France. He must have acquired good knowledge of the wine trade although he
* Donald Harman Akenson ‘Irish Migration to North America 1800-1920’ pp 111-112 in Andy Bielenberg The Irish Diaspora London: Longman 2000: ‘The Protestant proportion of Irish persons in the United States was 58.6 per cent of those professing Christianity’.
John who emigrated to Texas in 1883
never practised as such. In 1883, he set off for Texas. In 1884, no doubt with family money, he went into the cattle business at South Mulberry Creek in Tom Green County near Sterling City. His ranch comprised some 15,000 acres, on which he had a large herd of cattle. In addition he transported windmills, pipefittings and towers, largely for the benefit of neighbours, and was instrumental in the installation of water supply systems on a number of ranches.
In 1887 John returned to Dublin, and became engaged to Helen Corscaden, daughter of James and Frances Corscaden, a shipbroker in Londonderry. The marriage took place at All Souls, Langham Place, London on 10 December 1888, a month after the birth of Frank, the first of their four sons. This was the third Findlater/Corscaden marriage. John’s finances evidently did not prosper for Adam wrote to him in 1891 about some money invested in the Texas property: ‘The whole object in having the amount in AF & Co’s name was that if at any time if you were not making money it preserved the property against any of your creditors—think over this point, and put it into your own name if you think it advisable or advantageous to yourself to do so. My Dear John, Your affectionate brother, A. S. Findlater.’ (Endearingly, a scribbled postscript notes: ‘Confound the above formal business— I will try tomorrow Sunday to write to you—yours in an infernal hurry.’) John and Helen’s son James was also born in London in 1890, and their next two children, Mart 1892 and Jack 1894, were born in San Angelo. Sadly, Helen died after the birth of Jack. Shortly afterwards John returned to Dublin with the four children, including Jack in arms, to see the family and, well perhaps, find a new wife. And so he did, by luck or possibly by family arrangement. His brother’s wife’s sister, Edith, said ‘Yes’ and, in 1895, with husband John and his four sons, returned to a new life in San Angelo.
Selling the ranch, John established the Findlater Hardware Company in San Angelo, Texas in 1895, which was at one time reputed to be the largest hardware business mid-point between Fort Worth and El Paso, towns 600 miles apart. It was sole agent for Samson windmills, Buckeye Mowers, New Casaday Sulky plows and cultivators, Studebaker wagons, Crescent bicycles, St Louis welldrilling machinery and a variety of other ancillary equipment. It sounds tremendous but profitability was slow to materialise.
The newly established business did not diminish his interest in oil exploration, always with the hope of big riches. In 1900 he took a drilling lease on 100,000 acres but was short on success and he looked for more funds from Dublin; his father replied sternly: ‘I must ask you in future not to draw on me under any circumstances, as it places me in a very unpleasant position, since they [Findlaters] have become a public body. With very kind regards to all, my Dear John, Your affectionate Father, signed J. Findlater.’
And so the letters back to Dublin continued, success being always just around the corner. In 1934 he was still trying: ‘drilled a new well Jan. & Feb. hoping for a big return, 5 or 600 Brls. But only realised 100, however that will help us out considerably, as we have been paying off all the debts of the company and will soon be receiving a monthly dividend, i.e. if I can continue meeting the quarterly interest payments on $14,000 I borrowed to pay on my stock a few years ago.’
Sometimes there is a nice little touch, such as the postscript to a letter of 18 May 1921: ‘Would it be asking you too much to purchase for me a dozen really first class large tooth brushes out of the funds I have over there? It is impossible to get any here that the bristles do not come out of.’*
John had a daughter Mary (1895) and a son Stevenson (1899) with his second wife Edith. It is said that John was one of the most outstanding men of his day in San Angelo; certainly the hardware business flourished for over seventy years. After John died in 1935, at the age of seventy-seven, the business was continued until 1968 by his sons Frank and Mart. Descendants of John, Helen and Edith still live happily in San Angelo and in various parts of the States.
Dr Alex
As we have seen, he was with 1st London Mounted Brigade Field Ambulance, Royal Army Medical Corps, from its formation and served with them from August 1914 to February 1917 in Egypt, Gallipoli and Salonika in east Greece which was occupied by French and British troops in November 1915.
His obituary records that he was frank and outspoken, but none the less ready with a kindly word and was a friend of those in need. A man of very generous nature, he was never deaf to a deserving appeal and he did a lot of good work of which few people knew.
He was a huntsman and a steeplechaser of some renown, A hard rider, he was always happy with a horse of spirit and it was common to see him astride a horse
* Readers will remember John’s father’s regular purchase of toothbrushes in the 1850s, two for himself and one for his wife.
Lucie, who married Willie in 1891
Willie in Nice in 1890
rearing up on its hind legs in the High Street. At one time he drove an Irish jaunting car, and in the winter he drove a one-horse sleigh when the roads were at all suitable. For some years he captained Kingsbury Polo Club, being well mounted on Roulette and on Pride of Kildare. He died in 1931. His daughter Helen was my godmother.
Grandfather Willie
The next of John’s sons to go into the business was my grandfather Willie, born in 1867, twelve years after his brother Adam. He was the fourth of John and Mary’s six sons. Like his brothers he went to the High School and then to Trinity College where he graduated in Logic and Ethics with a Gold Medal. In his youth he was dashing and debonair but soon knuckled down to the business where his brother Adam was Managing Director and his father Chairman.
Willie married Lucie Heinekey on 4 May 1891. She was the daughter of G. M. Heinekey, a wine merchant with branches in London and Sackville Street, Dublin. It was her sister Edith who, in 1895, became the second wife of Willie’s elder brother John and settled in America. Yet another Heinekey sister, Dolly, married English wine merchant, W. Chartres Cock thus forging a lasting relationship with the family in Dublin. Four generations of the Cock family traded as Cock Russell & Co. in London.
Willie and Lucie had five children. The eldest, Marjorie, born in 1892, married Edmund Mitchell, second cousin of the Dublin wine merchant family. He joined Findlaters and was assistant Managing Director from 1919. The younger daughters, Doris, born 1895 and Sheila, born 1902, are the subject of Chapter 12. The elder boy Desmond was born in 1898 and died in 1900, and Dermot, the
youngest in the family (my father), was born in 1905 and is the subject of Chapters 13, 14 and 15.
Many years later, on the Silver Jubilee of his becoming Managing Director, Willie reminisced about his earliest days in the firm, the late 1880s:
An old style employee—Mr T. Mooney (Rathmines branch 1859-1913)
The key to Findlaters’ success was an absolute commitment to quality in all product areas of our business, and a very high level of service. The knowledge and dedication of the staff made an enormous contribution. In May 1913, one of the oldest employees, Mr T. Mooney, completed 54 years’ service with the firm. Based in Rathmines, he was respected for his extreme punctuality and regularity— claiming never to have missed a single day’s work, or failed to turn up on time. Questioned on his retirement by the Freeman’s Journal, he attributed this to his habit of attending early Mass in Rathmines Church, close by. This finished just in time to allow him to arrive at the store at eight o’clock. ‘And did you never miss a day in the whole 54 years?’ Mr Mooney was asked. ‘Never,’ he replied. ‘I have always enjoyed perfect health, and was not ill even for a day since I began business life.’ In the press picture he looks a fine man: three piece suit, long frock coat, high collared shirt and waistcoat, polished leather shoes, watch chain, neat trim beard and white moustache.
‘I suppose, Mr Mooney, Rathmines has changed greatly within your memory?’ ‘It has, indeed; it is a different town now altogether. In 1859 there were only a couple of shops in Rathmines besides ours. There was a wide space opposite Findlaters, and a semi-circular range of cottages stood where the Belfast Bank is now; the pump that supplied Rathmines with water stood there too; that was before the Waterworks system was working. Along Rathgar road was green fields and open country, and Rathgar Chapel was not built then; the district was in Rathmines Parish.’
1902: Crackers were a large and important part of Findlater’s Christmas business. Orders were placed with the manufacturers in January and delivered in November.
The bus tragedy:
There was a service of buses running between Rathmines and the city. In 61 a dreadful tragedy happened at Portobello Bridge. There was only a light wooden hoarding where the stone parapet of the bridge is now. The horses attached to a bus got restive on the bridge, and backed the conveyance against the hoarding, which gave way at once, and horses, bus-driver, conductor, and passengers went over into the canal basin. They might have been rescued, but in the confusion the sluice gates were opened, and an avalanche of water poured in on the unfortunate men; six passengers were drowned like rats in a trap, but the driver and conductor escaped. The accident happened at night, and next morning thousands of people came out from the city to view the scene.
The first twenty years of Willie’s business career, from 1890 to 1910, were prosperous and exciting for the Dublin business and professional class, a significant part of Findlaters’ clientele. (Though by no means the whole—to sell all cuts of bacon for example needs all classes of people, and teas and other products covered the full price range.) Census returns showed that this group represented about a quarter of the population of the Dublin area, living mainly in the selfgoverning townships of Rathmines, Pembroke, Monkstown, Kingstown and, on the northside, Clontarf and Drumcondra. In 1900, just eight months before her death, Queen Victoria paid her last visit to Ireland where it was estimated that one million people were in Dublin on that day. And the following year the last of the thousand horses that pulled the Dublin horse-trams gave way to electric trams. In 1907, on the eve of King Edward’s visit, the Irish Crown Jewels were suddenly found to be missing, a still unsolved theft.
By the beginning of the new century, Findlaters was a strong and profitable business, with sales of £133,949 [just €16m] a year, and profits of £10,400 [€1.27m]. It was diversified, with interests in groceries, beer, whiskey, wine and hotels; it also owned the leading social and fashion magazine of the day The Lady of the House. The magazine’s promotional material described it as:
Written by Gentlewomen for Gentlewomen, exquisitely illustrated, and published on the 15th of each month. Sold everywhere. One penny. Post free for one year, two shillings. Each issue contains the current fashions, finely illustrated by leading French artists; Portraits of Leaders of Society; Interviews; an instalment of a novel by a popular writer; Articles on various charities, household matters, health and the toilet; Delineations and Portraits of our Readers’ faces; gossip, valuable prizes, etc. Non-sectarian and non-political.
The Lady of the House was first published in 1890, just at the time Willie was entering the business. The renewed agreement between Wilson Hartnell, the publishers, and Findlaters in 1909 stated that Findlaters would have ten pages of advertisements in four of the monthly issues and eight pages of advertisements in the eight monthly issues, and also two pages in the special Horse Show issue and eight pages in the special Christmas season issue. Findlaters were to purchase three thousand copies monthly at sixpence per dozen copies, probably for dis-
The 10s per lb in 1823 was a slight exaggeration, 8s was more or less the top price. That is the equivalent to paying £20 lb today. However there was tea available by 1830 at 3s lb equivalent to £17.80 per kilo. In the year 2000 a kilo of Lyons Tea would cost just £6.60.
tribution to our account customers. Hartnell, who referred to himself in the journal as the ‘Conductor’, undertook that the literary tone and character of the periodical and the printing paper and illustrations would be of a style and character not inferior to that of the issues of the twelve months preceding the agreement. It had a sister publication in Findlater’s Ladies’ Housekeeping Diary, from which I have already quoted.
A vivid idea of the style and scale of Findlater’s business at this time can be gleaned from the numerous catalogues of prices we produced (many of which were included in The Lady of the House). These were extensive and thorough— a typical offering, dated April 1909, runs to 56 pages. The various branches of the business are listed on the first page. The head office was at No. 29-32 Upper Sackville Street (now O’Connell Street), with a bonded stores to the rear, cellars extending out under O’Connell Street and a beer bottling hall and in Thomas Street there was a cake factory. There were twelve branches, three in central Dublin, and one each in Rathmines, Sandymount, Kingstown, Blackrock, Dalkey, Bray, Howth and Foxrock. Telephone numbers often indicate early adoption—1 Blackrock, 5 Howth, 9 Foxrock, 13 Dalkey, 19 Bray, 23 Kingstown, 32 Ballsbridge for Sandymount and 50 Rathmines.
Pride of place in the catalogue is taken by the wine department. However, noting that ‘whiskey is, to a great extent, taking the place of wine on the tables of the upper classes’, wines are introduced somewhat tentatively. The section is headed by the reassuring words of the famous food scientist Baron Liebig: ‘as a gentle corrective and tonic compensation to restore the equilibrium of the constitution; as a safeguard against organic disturbance; as a soothing refreshment where vitality is feeling exhausted; and as a means of giving energy and strength when man has to struggle against the various ills that flesh is heir to—wine cannot be surpassed by any product of Nature or Art.’
Many of the pages of the catalogue devoted to wine set out to establish that wine is good for you. Port, we are told, was once thought of as the cause of gout, but doctors now ‘recommend it as antidote to that distressing remedy’, and of course ‘thousands who are reduced in vitality and resort to drugs will find renewed strength and life’ in Findlater’s Invalid Port (36s per dozen). ‘Burgundy’, says one Dr Druitt, is ‘a most powerful agent in diseases of the nervous system’, and he adds ‘what Bordeaux is to the blood, Burgundy is to the nerves.’ Moselles ‘are recommended by the medical profession as preventatives against gout and stone’.
History does not relate what happened to the Stillorgan Omnibus Company
Fashion from The Lady of the House May 1891
If we can deduce something of our ancestors’ drinking habits by the number of lines stocked, by far the most popular tipples were whiskey (14 Irish, 9 Scotch) and champagne, the staple of the dining table. Twenty-eight vintage and 9 nonvintage brands are offered, including such famous names as Clicquot, Ayala, Charles Heidsieck, Moët et Chandon, Mumm, Roederer and Pol Roger. Prices of the vintage wines vary from 53s per dozen (Viardot Freres) to the seven-year-old Mumm Cordon Rouge at 125s per dozen.
Some Wine prices from the 1909 List Price per dozen*
Clarets
Château Lafite 1896 _____________________________42s
Léoville Barton _________________________________30s
Montrose ______________________________________30s
Duhart-Milon ___________________________________20s
Burgundy
Clos de Vougeot ________________________________48s
Aloxe-Corton ___________________________________42s
Beaune________________________________________30s
Fleurie ________________________________________18s
White wines
Very Superior Sauternes ________________________30s
Chablis_______________________________________24s
White Hocks
Johannesberg __________________________________72s
Marcobrunn ____________________________________48s
Oppenheim_____________________________________15s
Bocksteiner ___________________________________42s
Berncastler ___________________________________36s
* 20s (£1) is equal to
€120 in 2013, so the Château Lâfite cost the equivalent
of €250 a case, or €20.80 a bottle. In 1908 we listed
Ch. Langoa
Barton at 24s, Leoville
Lascases at 30s, Gruard-Larose
at 36s and Mouton
Rothschild at 36s (vintages not stated). [s =
shillings. 20 in a £].
20,000 copies is a good circulation even today
The catalogue boasts that ‘few merchants in Ireland hold as large a stock of whiskey as we do, all of which has been stored by ourselves since it was distilled.’ The merchant’s practice was to buy over-proof whiskey in casks from the distillers, and store it in bond (i.e. before excise duty was paid) for the requisite number of years. Pure water was then added to bring the strength down to 25 per cent under proof. It was then despatched in five or ten gallon earthenware jars to the trade or bottled for the consumer. A typical price was that of our famous A1 brand at 21s per gallon, or in bottles (43s per dozen—about £12 a bottle in current terms).
Wine types were much less varied than today, though fortified wines were more in evidence. There were 11 different ports, 20 sherries, 15 Marsalas and 7 Madeiras. By contrast there were only 9 Burgundies—including a sparkling red at 59s per dozen—eight clarets and three Sauternes. Some of the text suggests that the firm felt that an educative role was appropriate: claret, we said (in contrast to fortified wines) ‘is by nature and vinofacture, a wine totally different from all others and is as much a child of nature as they are children of art; their process of production is long and arduous while that of claret is so simple that it really make itself.’ Another page of the catalogue says that this applies to Burgundy as well. Noting a trend towards increased consumption of ‘white wine’, six still and two sparkling hocks are offered, and four still and four sparkling Moselles. Hogsheads could be bottled and laid down in Findlater’s own bins and drawn off as required.
Tea was always an important part of the tea, wine and spirit merchants’ business and had been a core activity of the firm since the 1830s. We offered Indian, Ceylonese and China tea (‘as recommended by physicians’). Since the 1880s we packed Findlater’s Pure Indian teas in silver foil bags with coloured wrappings to identify the different blends. In 1909 Pink was the most expensive, at 3s 4d per pound, followed by Green at 3s, Salmon at 2s 8d, Blue at 2s 4d, Yellow at 2s, and a variety of other blends down to the daunting ‘Strong Tea’ at 1s 2d. Other blends were described as ‘useful blend’, ‘strong flavouring and wonderful value’, ‘the best value that can be bought in tea at the price’, ‘wonderfully fine tea at a moderate price’, ‘The Tea our reputation has been built on’, ‘our special five o’clock tea’, ‘the tea of luxury’ and finally ‘connoisseur’s tea’.
It is often said that Irish cooking was quite limited in those days (and perhaps the popularity of ready-made sauces such as ‘Dargai Dash’ is corroborative evidence), yet our 1909 list shows a surprising range of quality foods available: for instance, almonds (seven lines), anchovies, bottled apricots, 66 named brands of biscuit (including three brands of Bath Oliver), caviar, eight types of chutney, two full pages of cakes, sweets and chocolates, crystallised fruits, curried lobster, choice dessert figs, Heinz Specialities (including stuffed olives, evaporated horseradish, and tomato ketchup at 71/2d per 8 oz bottle), a wide range of tinned or bottled fruits, fish and vegetables, hominy grits, macaroni (and, as it happens, no other pasta), olive oil (specially imported by Findlater’s from Leghorn), paté de foie gras, soups at 91/2 or 101/2d per tin (grouse, game, mock turtle, hare,
1907
1908
1910
Wine and grocery list
Wine List covers
julienne, and, at 1s per tin, the expensive Heinz tomato), spices, sardines (nine varieties), tinned shrimps and bottled truffles—the choice is wider than in many modern supermarkets.
The list also includes a comprehensive range of purely domestic purchases such as boot polish, candles, dog biscuits (6 brands), eau de cologne, furniture polish, ink, lavender water, patent sardine knives and (an unexpected touch) special housemaids’ gloves.
As well as these goods, there was the provision counter, which sold ham, bacon, butter, eggs, sausages, black and white puddings, brawn beef and cheese—varieties named included cream, Cheddar, Gloucester, stilton, gruyère, parmesan, camembert and Dutch.*
Not all of these goods would have been available at every branch, though horsedrawn deliveries were available (three times a day from each branch, or so the list says) with a weekly schedule of deliveries from head office covering the city and outlying areas as far as Leixlip, Oldtown, Saggart, Celbridge, Dunboyne, Tara and Dunshaughlin. After the First World War, the Trojan vans started to replace horse-drawn deliveries. Ned Kelly, an engineer who in the 1920s worked with Ashenhurst & Williams, the Leyland agents, who supplied and serviced the Findlater vans, remembers the vans well:
The Trojan was ahead of its time. You had to be a bit of an engineer to drive it. The engine was under the driver’s seat. The fly wheel was literally under where you sat. It was connected to the engine by a series of springs. And, God bless, if ever a spring broke it would tear the backside off the driver. The front of the Trojan was empty. The engine was transverse. Epicycle gearbox. The chain went down to the back axle. No differential on the back axle.
If you wanted to turn in the roadway you were advised to go around the block. The
*The tradition of
abundance of stock was celebrated by P.O.P. in
Dublin Ditties Dublin: Cahills 1930
FINDLATERS
Would you buy a Turkey?
Would you buy a Ham?
A Goose, a Leg of Mutton,
Or, perchance a Pot of Jam?
Go you to Findlaters, for Findlater’s everywhere,
For Groceries there’s no one with Findlater to
compare.
Would you buy sweet Raisins,
Sultanas, Candied Peel?
Fruits both fresh and crystallised,
To grace a Christmas meal?
Go you to Findlaters, for Findlaters you can’t
beat,
For anything you’d like to drink and everything
you’d eat.
Would you stock your cellar
With choicest wines of France?
Buy your Christmas Crackers
For dinner or for dance?
Go you to Findlaters, where you’re sure of what
you get,
Go you to Findlaters–and you’ll go again I bet.
1903: Coffee, like tea, was an integral part of the tea, wine and spirit merchant’s business. In 1830 good Jamaica coffee retailed from 1s 2d to 1s 8d lb (equivalent to £2.82 per 250g). Unusually this commodity is actually dearer today than in 1830. Instant coffee first appeared on our list in 1934. Maxwell House at 3s 9d lb is equivalent to €6.15 per 200g—not much different from today’s price of €5.70. Nescafé was first listed in 1953 at 4s 6d, size not stated.
Joe McAuley, who worked in the company for 54 years, driving a Trojan van (July 1924)
two wheels would travel at the same speed—solid tyres. One day one of your drivers was late returning from his delivery run. When he finally got back he was questioned on what delayed him. His excuse was that the solid tyres of the Trojan van got caught in the tram lines and he had to stay that way until he arrived at the tram sheds in Phibsboro before he could free himself! The extension system and the ignition was on the running board. They were very good. Did not have to carry a spare wheel but we were often called out to repair the rubber on the solid tyre–quite a job.
A large proportion of business was done on account. On entering a typical store, such as that at Bray, the customer stepped between the arms of a long Ushaped counter stretching to the back of the shop. Immediately to the left was the confectionery counter with fresh cakes, sweets and Jacobs biscuits under glass lids, then came the provisions areas—eggs, butter, cheese, chickens and bacon, in that order. At the very bottom of the U would be the fruit and vegetables, behind which was the cash desk, manager’s office and storage areas. Then came the wines, spirits and beer counter, and finally, immediately on the right inside the entrance, the general grocery department. In the 1960s, to increase trade, I tried to reverse the grocery and wines departments, and moved the wines next to the window in the Bray shop. The power of the Church, in the form of the Protestant vicar, Rev. Billy Rooke, caused the decision to be rescinded.
Most of the assistants were male, though women typically looked after confectionery, cheese and butter and eggs. On the grocery side were a couple of light chairs, so that the shopper could sit while giving her order, resting her handbag on the special shelf provided.
Although the firm employed almost four hundred people at this time, all the buying, price setting, employment of staff, rates of pay, promotion and property matters were dealt with by the Boss, Mr Willie. By the time the First World War broke out in 1914 Ireland had become surprisingly dependent on overseas sources for food, and the German submarine blockade, which started early in 1917, demonstrated how far this process had evolved. An interview with Willie appeared in The Lady of the House of October 1917. As ‘the largest distributors of food products in Ireland’ Findlater’s was very conscious of the ‘food difficulties which confront the Irish housekeeper under present conditions’ and in particular the difficulty in obtaining good quality butter. He explained:
Danish butter at the port of arrival in England is fifteen pounds per hundred weight, or two shillings and eightpence farthing per lb. This very day the Food Controller has lessened what was practically a protective duty on Danish butter by advancing the controlled price of Irish creamery butter to eleven pounds, four shillings per hundredweight, and this has raised the price twopence per pound. The Irish creameries are still dissatisfied, and not without reason, for they consider that the controlled price should be raised to twelve pounds sixteen shillings per hundredweight, thus putting Irish butter on something like a fair basis with Danish butter in the British market. The controlled prices have left the creameries with a distinct grievance, and they have not been putting butter on the market with any freedom during the past few weeks. Hence the extreme shortage and the price. In the London market there has been nothing except a small supply of Irish and a little English for the past few weeks.
The interviewer then inquired whether the shortage would continue, especially during the winter.
‘I don’t wish to take too gloomy a view,’ replied WF, ‘but for the next three months the butter supply will, no doubt, be scanty enough and the price a rising one. Later on, things may improve. Colonial supplies— cold storage butter from New Zealand, Australia and Canada will begin coming in at the close of this month— October. New Zealand butter is a really fine well-flavoured article, a good second to Irish creamery butter, which, to my mind, has a delightfully fresh taste, not equalled by the product of any other country. Then there are Australian and Canadian butters about equal in merit, but a second to the product of New Zealand. This will shortly be available.’
Sandymount branch (on the Green) dressed to impress, before the First World War
The interviewer then inquired what was the general attitude of the public towards butter substitutes observing that the price of butter was 2s 6d per lb, and that of margarine 1s 3d, or just one-half to which WF replied
Ireland now is going straight ahead in the production of fine brands of margarine. Messrs Dowdall, O’Mahoney & Co. of Cork, are producing two really splendid qualities and other Cork and Waterford firms, are sending out fine qualities, which are being well received. These brands are amongst the finest butter substitutes in the market, and are of excellent flavour, and made from pure, clean, wholesome ingredients.
The interviewer proceeded to inquire about the prospects for ‘the other furnishings of our breakfast tables—bacon and eggs?’ Willie gave graphic examples of the price inflation that occurred in the last two years of the war.
‘Black enough’, replied WF. ‘Bacon has reached unheard-of figures. As with butter, which, in the 1870s, was one shilling a pound, is now two shillings and sixpence, so the ninepenny bacon of the seventies now costs two shillings and fourpence for the best cuts. All Irish meats are very scarce, and the would-be buyer of twenty-four middles of bacon in a week is oftentimes lucky to secure four.’
And Irish hams for Christmas?
Irish ham will, I fear, be both scarce and high-priced next Christmas, but the Canadian imports may bring us some comfort by relieving the shortage and placing ham on our tables at something approaching reasonable price. A specially appointed Purchasing Executive is working in Canada on behalf of all the Allied Countries purchasing meats and fats—bacon, ham, butter, lard and cheese—so that control will start in the Colonies where the meats and fats are raised.
The discussion then moved on to eggs, and WF explained that
the supply is altogether inadequate. Poultry-breeders, cottagers and people who ‘keep fowl’ are killing their hens for table use, and so the egg-producing capacity is growing less and less. The high prices of poultry and chicken feed are the cause of this. Long ago we grew great quantities of wheat in Ireland, and Ireland was a large exporter of wheat and flour. There were a multitude of mills scattered up and down throughout Ireland, the residuals from these mills gave the cheapest and best of feeding stuffs for pigs and poultry. Those were the days ‘when every rood of earth maintained its man’. Since then we have become accustomed to depend on foreign countries for the bulk of our food, and now we see the result. Now the first demand upon the meagre supply is, of course, the needs of our vast army of wounded men and the enormous number of sick. There are no Danish eggs, and the foreign lands which helped out the demand of Great Britain either cannot or will not send us supplies.
Clubs of all sorts were a good source of business
He continued:
In Ireland we are ultra fastidious about butter, bacon, eggs, and much else that is eatable. Ireland is a great producing country, the quality of our production is first class, and we have all got so accustomed to really first-rate food that we have become hypercritical and will consider no other. Hence, the very cheap eggs, such as Siberian eggs, used to come into Great Britain in quantities, but nobody in Ireland wanted these ‘ancient lays of the East’, and they never reached these shores. Nearly every source of British supply is now closed, and the Irish egg, always highly popular in Great Britain, has now a hundred hands held out to grasp it, and the price is increasing alarmingly.
The reporter then inquired about egg substitutes:
‘There is no replacement for the boiled egg or the poached or fried eggs,’ explained WF, ‘but for puddings, custards and cakes, and indeed for a dish of scrambled eggs, excellent dried eggs are to be had in cartons the equivalent of 12 eggs for 1s 6d or of 24 eggs for 3s 0d. These newly laid eggs, taken from the shell and dried, are free from preservatives, of excellent colour and flavour, and are guaranteed pure. Then there are the liquid eggs in tins with screw tops, each tin containing one dozen eggs, price eighteen pence. These have for years been well known in the confectionery trade, but are now being introduced for domestic use. They are fresh eggs canned during the plentiful periods of the year.
British soldiers in suspicious mood searching for arms amongst the cabbages. (Hogan)
And cheese?
In Ireland, cheese has never been anything like so popular as it is in Great Britain. Why this should be so I confess I do not understand. It is equal in food value to nearly thrice its weight of prime beef. The price of cheese has not been so much affected, for the controlled price of sound Colonial cheese is now one shilling and fourpence, and fourpence more buys prime English Cheddar. One little hint—a scrap of good cheese makes war bread easily assimilated, and that is a point worth remembering.
Pre-war claret at pre-war prices for Christmas 1924 (The Irish Times, 24 December 1924)
1903: A 1 lb jar of strawberry jam was 7d in 1903, equivalent to £2.09 for the standard modern 340g jar which today would cost around £1.50. From 1904 to 1968 Findlater’s jams were supplied by Lamb Bros, who had fruit farms in Rathfarnham, Churchtown, Donabate and in County Kildare.
best lubricant I ever tried. I may say that many other Dublin business houses have recognised the merit of this dinner hour closing operation, and have adopted the system.
Willie was fully aware that the staff were vital to the success of the firm: in 1919 he announced a system of adding profit bonuses to the wages and salaries throughout the year rather than as a lump sum at the end of the year. In announcing this change he was conscious that ‘the successes of the last two years’ were going to be hard to repeat in the troubled post-war conditions: ‘It will need a strenuous effort on the part of each of us. Everyone of us can do something to help—by a little bit of extra enthusiasm, a bit more care in getting up orders and a little extra attention to customers and their wants—some saving of waste and a kindly working together of the staff amongst themselves.’
A month or two later he was able to announce that the Board had agreed to pay the staff a ‘Peace Bonus’, from the good profits generated in the last years of the war.
From 1909 to 1917 the average profits dropped to £7,700, but lifted again to just over £11,000 [around €560,000] from 1918 to 1920.
The Irish Investors’ Guardian in July 1911 commented: ‘The accounts reflect an improvement in both earnings and financial position after all the outgoings (interest, depreciation, reserves, bad debt provisions). Net profits were £ 5,781 [€636,000], an increase of £2,614 [€294,000].’ And the following year profits were reported at £6,393 [€696,000]. In 1914 the Board announced a further reduction in the share capital by reducing the 11,000 preference shares of £5 each to the same number of £3 shares and further scaling down the existing £2 ordinary shares to £1 each. In other words, since the flotation of the company fifteen years previously, the preference capital had been reduced by £22,000 and the ordinary, in the hands of the vendors, by £44,000. The net profit for 1913/4 was reported at £6,557 [€708,000], which after debenture interest, left a carry forward of £3,097 [€229,000].
To conclude this section on a good note the Investors’ Guardian in 1918 said that there was reason to be pleased. The actual profits of £12,465 [€715,000] showed an increase of £3,855 [€159,000] subject to income tax of £1,669 [€95,000] and commented ‘the financial position of the company was never stronger and the increased balance forward will help the Board to face the future difficulties of successful trading with at least equanimity.’
When Willie succeeded his brother Adam as Managing Director in 1911, he was dealt a tough hand. He had to navigate the company through a great deal of change, both political and social. Head office in Sackville Street often had a front seat in events between the Easter Rising in 1916 and the Civil War which only came to an end in May 1923. The most spectacular incidents were the Rising itself, during which, as we have seen, Willie personally protected the stock
against looters with his blunderbuss, and the troubles of 1920, which spread across the country. Elizabeth Fingall sets the scene well:
All through 1920 things in Ireland were getting steadily worse. There had been shootings of policemen, village bonfires night after night as the police barracks were burnt, tragic fires, involving sometimes loss of life. Presently the British Government made one of the worst mistakes they had ever made. Unable to combat the campaign of assassination with their ordinary forces, they decided to fight their opponents with their own weapons. If they could not find an assassin and get a jury to convict and execute him, they would employ men who would take the law into their own hands, without trial. They increased the numbers of the Royal Irish Constabulary with new recruits, many ex-soldiers fresh from the battlefields—and some ex-convicts fresh from gaol. The supply of green cloth being limited, these appeared half in their old khaki and half in RIC uniform, and were christened after a famous old pack of hounds, the Black and Tans.
In addition, a new force was formed, called the Auxiliaries. These were mostly exofficers, many of them shell-shocked. They had little or no discipline, being all of equal rank. Some were Irishmen, wanting any job after the War, and little knowing what they were going to be asked to do. They were assigned to barracks through-out the country. Their barracks were fortified with steel shutters and barbed-wire entanglements. No social life was possible and they drank a lot. They spent their days in the barracks with occasional lorry drives at break-neck speed through the country, leaving terror and destruction behind them.
If a policeman had been shot, it was the signal for a reprisal, and a reprisal could mean the burning of a village. Very often the inhabitants had very little to do with the first outrage. Then, as reprisal, the neighbouring big house would be burnt down and so it went on.1
Nevertheless, the city was taken by surprise when the Assistant Under- Secretary in Dublin Castle ordered the military to carry out an armed raid starting at 1.30 in the morning on Findlater’s, for reasons which were never made clear. The Freeman’s Journal of Tuesday 16 March 1920 takes up the story:
The military left Messrs Findlater’s stores at 3.20 last evening, after being on the premises since 1.30 on that morning. The premises searched included bonded warehouses, stores, and residential dwellings on which some of the employees live. The soldiers first entered the main building and detained Mr J. Byrne, a traveller for the firm, and the following assistants:–Messrs J. Broderick, John Kennedy, J. Kelly, J. Murray . . . The bonded stores extend underneath the premises for a considerable distance. The military, who were armed with pick-axes and crowbars, paid special attention to the stores, where packing cases, crates, barrels, floors, etc., were minutely examined. The flooring, it is stated, was dug up.
While the operations proceeded no persons but police or military were allowed to enter the premises. Large crowds congregated in the vicinity during the day waiting on the chance that the soldiers might come on so that they might observe what, if any, was the result of the prolonged visit.
Freeman’s Journal, 16 March 1920
A rumour that the military were about to leave the premises caused a flutter of excitement amongst the crowds that had assembled in the lane, and the police began to push them back. An altercation between the constables and some members of the crowd resulted in two women being arrested and conveyed to Store street Police Station.
Both women are of the respectable working class and the action of the police was unfavourably commented on. The crowd made a hostile demonstration, and the police drew their revolvers to prevent any attempt being made to rescue the prisoners. The military motor lorry shortly before 3.20 pm left Findlater place and were then driven off amidst a storm of groans and hisses.
Mr William Findlater, managing director of the firm, declined to make any statement when approached by a Freeman’s Journal representative. He apparently knew nothing of the cause of the raid. Mr Findlater is well known in Dublin business circles. He is a Conservative with broadly tolerant views, but takes no active part in politics.
The Freeman’s Journal was baffled as to why Findlaters should have been raided in this way, and certainly did not approve. WHOSE TURN NEXT? ARMED RAIDS OF WELL-KNOWN DUBLIN BUSINESS HOUSES, ran its headlines, and the paper declared that ‘ the latest stunt is not only a mystery, but is rapidly becoming to every citizen the gravest of menaces . . . the result is that when the rattle of a military lorry is heard after midnight, no man, however clear his conscience may be of offence against the Executive, can be sure that the next minute his door may not be smashed in by rifle butts and he himself dragged off to swell the list of victims’.2
The Dublin Chamber and the Treaty
Like many of his fellow businessmen, Willie took an active part at that time in the Dublin Chamber of Commerce. In the heated political atmosphere of the time, it was difficult for the Protestant voice to be raised in any but a few constituencies, so the Chamber of Commerce made a convenient arena. These were important times for the Chamber which national politicians used as a sounding board for moderate unionist opinion. In fact in 1921, Éamon de Valera, having been invited to meet Prime Minister Lloyd George, sought ‘the views of a certain section of our people of whom you are the representatives’ and on 4 July, in the Mansion House, met with Sir Robert Woods, Sir Maurice Dockrell, Andrew Jameson, Lord Midleton and Sir James Craig.
During the Treaty negotiations in 1921Willie was a member of the Council of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce that urged Éamon de Valera and Arthur Griffith to accept the Treaty in December 1921. He served on various committees, including Trade and Commerce, Law, Parliamentary, Municipal, House and Finance and Education. The secretary of the Irish Industrial Development Association summed up the views of the businessmen in the Chamber in the final paragraph of his excellent analysis of Irish trade and industry published in 1920:
We have in Ireland all the resources necessary to build up a thriving community: endless proof is available of the ability of Irishmen to cope successfully with economic problems; our workpeople are comparable with those of any other nation, both in regard to skill and intelligence; all that we lack to enable us to take our proper place among the prosperous nations of the world is the power to determine our own economic policy. Until that right is granted us it is unfair to place the blame for her present industrial condition at Ireland’s door.3
On 25 January 1922 it is recorded in their minutes that the Chamber had approved the following statement of its views on Condition 5 of the Treaty:
Briefly stated, this condition offers Ireland complete control of finance and taxation, modified by the provision that free trade without any restrictions should be maintained in perpetuity between Great Britain and Ireland. There is no reason to doubt that Irish businessmen engaged in established industries or business, being able to hold their own, would depreciate any discrimination in their favour against British competition, or any measures calculated to interfere with the flow of trade between the two countries, but it is apparent that there are weighty reasons why Condition No 5 should not be accepted on behalf of Ireland.
An Irish Parliament, under this condition, would find it impossible to follow the example of the Parliament at Westminster in passing an act for safeguarding of new or struggling industries which might become a great national asset. Ireland would also be bound, in advance, to a British trade policy without regard to its adaptability to the circumstances or conditions of the country. This Council would urge that in view of the need for exhaustive and patient inquiry before the vast interests involved can be wisely dealt with, the framing of the commercial treaty between the two countries
should be postponed until a political settlement is reached, and that Condition No 5 should be eliminated from the conditions which it sought to impose as preliminary to the settlement.
Condition 5 was omitted from the agreement subsequently reached by the conference in December.4 The Treaty that established the Irish Free State was signed by the British and Irish representatives on 6 December 1921, and ratified by Dáil Éireann a month later. The majority of Irish people ultimately confirmed it at the ballot box. However, the anti-Treaty faction, those that did not agree to the exclusion of six northern counties from Dublin jurisdiction, led by Éamon de Valera, walked out on 10 January 1922.
The Dublin Chamber of Commerce had met on 30 December 1921, those present being Andrew Jameson (distilling)5, in the Chair; William Hewat (Heitons coal and steel); James Shanks (sanitary engineering); E. H. Andrews (tea, wine, spirit and provision merchants): Richard Booth (engineering works); Sir Maurice Dockrell (builders’ providers and timber merchants); William Findlater; John Good (master builder); John Hollwey (ship broker); George Jacob (biscuit manufacturing); Patrick Leonard (sales master and auctioneer); S. W. Maddock (secretary Mount Jerome cemetery); Harry Millar* (wholesale tea, wine and spirit merchants) Laurence Martin (timber importers); Sir James Percy (publisher); William Wallace (coal distributors); John Wallis (carrier and steam packet agent) and Alderman J. Hubbard Clarke, High Sheriff for the City of Dublin. Apologies were received from David Barry (British & Irish Steam Packet Co.); William Crowe (timber, slate and tiles merchants); Sir W. J. Goulding Bart (fertilisers); W. Lombard Murphy MD, Sir Horace Plunkett and L. C. Cuffe (cattle salesmen and auctioneers).
The meeting was called to consider what action the Chamber should take in the present crisis. After a very full discussion it was decided that a resolution in favour of the ratification of the Peace Treaty should be passed by the Council, and published in the press on the following day. The Secretary was instructed to send copies to the press, de Valera, Arthur Griffith, and the Speaker of Dáil Éireann:
The Council of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce, realising the extreme gravity of the issues now awaiting decisions by the responsible representatives of the Irish People and the acute anxiety prevailing in the Country lest a conflict of opinion amongst the representatives may defeat the hopes of peace, cannot maintain silence in a situation so pregnant with danger to the vast interests of the whole community.
The Council also recognises its obligation to the great business community which looks to it for a frank and emphatic declaration to all concerned that a recurrence of the disastrous conditions which threatened to overturn the whole structure of the
* Harry Millar was a director of the Bank of Ireland from 1923 and Governor 1930-1932; and first chairman of the Wine & Spirit Association. He played rugby for Ireland 1904-1905. Adam Millar & Co was founded by his grandfather Adam. Harry’s grandson David is a director of Findlater Wine Merchants.
Country’s industry and trade would bring ruin to its prospect of National progress.
The Council therefore declares that rejection of the Peace Treaty, and a return to chaos and civil war with its untold miseries, as an alternative to acceptance is unthinkable.
The Council further records its opinion that the reconstruction of Ireland by her own people is made possible by the terms of the treaty, and most earnestly hopes that the body of Irishmen entrusted with its fate will secure its final ratification.6
Disturbed times provide troubled waters for all sorts of predators. In January 1922, the Metropolitan Police Office handed a memo to the firm stating that: ‘there are at present gangs of armed robbers operating in Dublin. They are well informed as to the habits and movements of their victims and are no doubt assisted in some cases by confederates in the employment of such victims’. The memo was particularly concerned with the transit of large sums of money. It advised that a certain number of employees should be armed and that the arms should be carried ‘on person’ ready for instant use; that an armed guard should be placed in position covering the interior of the building where he would not be observed by raiders and from where he could shoot in security; and that ‘a powerful electric alarm be fitted to sound outside the building which can be set in motion to ring continuously by the pressure of hand or foot, such as is now fitted to the Bank of Ireland and the Belfast Bank in College Green’.7 I very much doubt that Willie took the advice to arm any of his staff, either in head office or any of the branches.
The Civil War
On 13/14 April the anti-Treaty forces, the Irregulars, took over the Four Courts as their headquarters and refused to recognise the authority of the Provisional Government, headed by Michael Collins who held the legitimate seat of power. During the subsequent months the Irregulars raided private premises and the plundering of property became a frequent occurrence throughout the city. Oliver St J. Gogarty, surgeon, wit, writer and senator (1922-1936) wrote: ‘I could never countenance this euphemism, Irregulars. They were mostly town riffraff misled, or country dupes and discontents whom de Valera aroused when he found that his methods had landed him in a minority.’8
On 29 April 1922, a fortnight after anti-Treaty forces had seized the Four Courts, a meeting was called at short notice to consider the present dangerous condition of the country as it affects Trade and Commerce. It was resolved that the Chamber:
representing a large portion of the manufacturing and trading interests of Ireland, views with deep concern, the present want of security for life and property in our city and country. It calls upon all who are responsible for good government in Ireland to provide at the earliest possible moment such conditions of security and tranquillity as will permit of Irishmen living their lives in peace and quietness, and developing to the utmost the resources of their native land’. The secretary was instructed to send copies to the Peace Conference at the Mansion House, the Provisional Government and Dáil Éireann.
Éamon de Valera addressing a crowd outside Findlaters at the top of O’Connell Street, a customary place for political rallies (EMI-Pathé)
The kidnapping of Michael Collins’ assistant chief of staff, Lieutenant-General O’Connell, by anti-Treaty forces was the signal for the civil war to hot up. On Tuesday 27 June 1922 the Provisional Government under Michael Collins issued the following public statement, which with its support for normal business and economic activity must have been welcome to the businessmen of the Chamber:
Since the close of the General Election, at which the will of the people of Ireland was ascertained, further grave acts against the security of person and property have been committed in Dublin and in some other parts of Ireland by persons pretending to act with authority.
It is the duty of the Government, to which the people have entrusted their defence and the conduct of their affairs, to protect and secure all law-respecting citizens without distinction, and that duty the Government will resolutely perform.
Yesterday one of the principal garages in the metropolis was raided and plundered under the pretext of a Belfast boycott. No such boycott has any legal existence, and, if it had, it could not authorise or condone the action of irresponsible persons in seizing private property.
Later in the same evening Lieutenant-General O’Connell, Assistant Chief of Staff, was seized by some of the persons responsible for the plundering of the garage, and is still held in their hands. Outrages such as these against the nation and the Government must cease at once, and cease forever.
For some months past all classes of business in Ireland have suffered severely through the feeling of insecurity engendered by reckless and wicked acts, which have tarnished the reputation of Ireland abroad.
Upper O’Connell Street after the Civil War (1922). Findlaters is behind the left hand lamp post. (Hogan)
As one disastrous consequence, unemployment and distress are prevalent in the country, at a time when, but for such acts, Ireland would be humming with prosperity.
The Government is determined that the country shall no longer be held up from the pursuit of its normal life and the re-establishment of its free national institutions. It calls, therefore, on the citizens to co-operate actively with it in the measures it is taking to ensure the public safety and to secure Ireland for the Irish people.9
Actions quickly followed words. Early on Wednesday morning, 28 June, parties of National (Government) troops were on the streets, stopping vehicles and pedestrians and searching them for arms. Snipers were also active in many parts of the city and several business premises and hotels were reported to have been seized and barricaded by the Irregulars. The business life of the city came to a standstill, shops and offices closed up, and, except for the bravely curious, the citizens beat a hasty retreat to their homes. Barricades were also erected across the main thoroughfares and strongly guarded by National troops, and pedestrians as they passed were subject to a careful search.
The Four Courts were shelled, and eventually blown up by the Irregulars inside. The fall of their headquarters, did not, however, mean that the final defeat of the Irregulars had come, for desperate fighting was at this time being waged in other parts of the city, principally in a wide area just north of Nelson’s Pillar in O’Connell street.
The fighting continued on and off all day on Sunday 2 July. The official report issued on this evening stated: ‘National forces are now carrying out a big concerted movement round the O’Connell Street area, which is the stronghold of the Irregulars. From early evening they are closing in and drawing a cordon round O’Connell Street, Marlborough Street, and Gardiner Street.’10
A fresh attack on the occupied premises in O’Connell Street was launched on Monday afternoon, the heavy guns again being brought into play here. Further
successes quickly followed for the National arms, several of the remaining positions held by the Irregulars being captured, including the Gresham Hotel and the YMCA premises opposite, and it was officially reported that a large number of prisoners were secured, many of whom were trying to get away with their arms and ammunition.
Some time about noon on Wednesday 5 July a fire broke out in the neighbourhood of the Hammam Hotel and another building. The firing continued with increased force, and amid the din the Fire Brigade, in charge of Captain Myers,* dashed up to subdue the outbreak, which by this time seemed to have involved the entire buildings. Soon after the arrival of the firemen the front walls of the Hammam collapsed with a loud crash, accompanied by blinding volumes of dense black smoke. Undaunted by the magnitude of its task, the Fire Brigade got to work strenuously, and its efforts were mainly directed to preventing the fire from spreading in a northern direction towards Findlaters where large quantities of over proof whiskey were stored in bond underground. A terrific explosion was next heard near the Gresham Hotel, and was followed by a deafening roar of machine guns. The Gresham Hotel was still standing, but later on it, too, became involved and was quickly a mass of flames. The white flag was displayed at 7.30 p.m. from the Granville Hotel and some twenty Irregulars marched out and surrendered.
Thus ended a week of terror and destruction that was equalled only by the Rising of Easter, 1916. The loss of lives in the case of the military totalled 19 dead and 122 wounded, and of civilians over 50 dead and 200 wounded.† The value of the destroyed property, which included some twenty of the finest buildings in the city, is estimated at £3m-£4m, while, besides the many ruined homes, the damage resulted in the disemployment of several hundred men and women.11 My father told me that the Pro-Cathedral and Findlater’s bonded warehouse were the nearest buildings to Nelson Pillar that remained standing, thanks to the efficiency of the Dublin Fire Brigade. Willie Findlater on that occasion, it was reported, made a presentation to the Captain of the Fire Brigade as a tribute to the valour and the efficiency of his staff. However I was told that Grandfather swore under his breath that all the other traders got a new building and he did not!
The Findlater Minute Book entry of 28 June 1922 records: ‘Owing to the Disturbances, our premises in Sackville Street were closed from 30th June to 9th July and were partially burned. The opposing forces were in turn in occupation of the premises. Considerable looting was done at a number of our premises.’ Findlaters put in a claim for compensation for losses occasioned by commandeering, looting, fire, loss of rents and trade to the Corporation amounting to £14,800 or more than £1/2m in modern terms,
The claim was of course long, and immensely detailed, and included:
* Great-uncle of the celebrated Irish Times journalist.
Every drop of wine was imported in cask and bottled and labelled by Findlaters. Label design was worked out between the Boss and the printer and this continued right up to the end of my father’s custodianship of the company.
Claim | |
Amount £ | Yr 2013 equivalent |
Sackville
Street: Damage to Motor Cars and Horse Vans by reckless use of–and, subsequently by being put into Street Barricades, or employed at unlawful work by Irregulars–as per Statement attached |
|
£276 |
[€16,000] |
Looted by
Irregulars–Contents of Postal Clerk’s Desk |
|
£19 16s |
[€1,176] |
To large
shell lock on Stable entrance gates destroyed by Irregulars during occupation of premises |
|
£10.15s 6d |
[€636] |
Dorset
Street: Goods lost–stolen–or destroyed by Irregulars’ Raid |
|
£349.16.3 |
[€21,000] |
Consequential loss of trading profits estimated for the period the premises were in occupation by Irregulars 30.6.22 to 6.7.22 and for the two weeks immediately ensuing a shortage in output £5,611 and Gross Profit on this @ 18 per cent |
|
£1009 19s 7d |
[€32,000] |
Claims for
Goods commandeered, or looted, by Irregular Forces, on and after April 20th 1922, for which the signature of the raiders was obtained at our branches at: 67 South Great George’s Street; 9 Leinster Street; 30 Upper Baggot Street, 35 Castle Street Dalkey; 84/85 Lower George’s Street Kingstown; Harbour Road Howth; Station Road Foxrock; 72 Thomas Street; Main Street, Malahide. |
|
£302 10s 8d |
[€17,500] |
Findlater’s stand at the RDS, 1910
There was also a
claim relating to the Free State Army’s
occupation of the Royal Hotel, Bray. They
took possession of the entire hotel on 4
July 1922 and kept it till 27 October 1922.*
Then the new Civic Guards (later called the
Garda
Siochána) took over part of the
premises and handed back the remainder. They
remained in possession until 24 March 1923.
During these occupations considerable damage
was done to the premises and to the
furniture. Our claim amounted to £1,235 4s
9d [€71,500]. The Board of Works said that
they would only allow £487 0s 1d [€29,000].
There were seven pages of counsel’s opinion.
As to the main claim, Findlater’s eventually
settled for a mix of compensation, including
the purchase by the corporation of various
premises in Findlater Place permitting the
creation of Cathal
Brugha Street. Cathal
Brugha was shot by Free State soldiers
based in Findlaters buildings. (John
Pinkman In the Legion of the
Vanguard Cork: Mercier 2001 pp
127‒142)
No doubt there was a certain amount of gamesmanship in putting in these claims—for instance, though it is true that gross profit reached 17.6 per cent in 1918, that figure was never repeated before or since. On the other hand there were incidents that could hardly be claimed for, as Johnny McDermott in Baggot Street branch remembered:
In the winter of 1923 there was a civil war on here—the Irregulars and the Free Staters. The Manager was up in an office and he was dead drunk. ‘Go down and see what all that commotion is about.’ I ran down to the window and there were six guards outside with bicycles and they were after putting a brick through the Christmas window and they were loading turkeys and hams and everything into sacks—it was nothing but lootin’ and robbin’. And I ran after this guard and I said: ‘The Manager up here wants to know what all this thing is about.’ He put his hand in his trench coat pocket, his green trench coat pocket and brought out a gun, held it up to my head.
* Marie Lock told me her mother, Ellen Phelan, was housekeeper in the hotel for twelve years around this time. ‘When the Black and Tans used to force their way into the hotel she used to take their guns. She held strict morals in the hotel and placed a Sacred Heart picture on the stairway which was there for years after she left to get married.’
1903: Note the wide spread of prices between ‘Good and Strong’ at the equivalent of £5.99 per lb and ‘Pink Wrapper’ at £13.20 per lb.
‘Go back, or I’ll blow your head off ’. I was only a kid in short trousers and worn rubber shoes. I remember the Manager got fluthered that evening and he says at five to six: ‘Go and get me Silver, the cab man.’ He stood up at Baggot Street Bridge, and Silver would be waiting—a white horse, a hard hat and a cab. When he seen me appearing and he’d be arising and he’d be down quick, quick, quick into the cellar to get his tumbler of whiskey. ‘And that’s the God’s truth.’
The civil war rumbled on for the whole of 1922, and into 1923. As late as 29 January 1923 Horace Plunkett’s house in Foxrock was burned by irregulars, in pursuit of a policy of harassing those appointed as Senators. On 31 January 1923 the Chamber’s report read:
The formidable attack on the Provisional Government, initiated earlier in the year, is maintained with unabated virulence, and its authors, to serve their manifest purpose, are leaving untried no device likely to embarrass commercial effort and enterprise. The effect of the frequent robberies under arms and illegal seizures of goods has been that, in many districts, trade is restricted within the narrowest limits . . . The Free State Government and Parliament established under a Constitution of their own framing have accepted a heavy obligation in the task of restoring order to a country sorely harassed. Their successful discharge of the task, in which they are now effecting progress, will nowhere be applauded more heartily than in the Chamber.
Luckily for the country, the Civil War was now in its last stages, and on 24 May 1923 de Valera ordered his supporters to lay down their arms.
Managing the bank manager
During the troubled years 1921-1923 the average profit fell to £5,200 [under €318,000]. This trend was identical to that of Arnotts, the department store in Henry Street. From 1924 to 1939 Findlater’s profits seesawed along, providing a good service, giving sound employment and keeping the shareholders modestly rewarded. The graph of Arnott’s sales for the period showed the same flat performance.
This moderate financial performance, admittedly in difficult circumstances, alerted the banks. On 4 January 1924 the Royal Bank wrote pointing out that the overdraft, which had been £5,000 in 1914, was now upwards of £50,000. The account had been in credit during 1917/18. (The consumer price index, having shot up from 100 in 1914 to over 200 in 1919, fell between 1925 and 1933 from 190 to 151 and only rose modestly to 178 by 1939.) It was noted that this large overdraft had been a temporary accommodation, and had not been repaid as agreed. Willie replied slightly evasively, aware that outside forces were pushing his requirements up rather than down. He pointed out that his sales in 1914 had been less than a quarter of his present turnover, and in fact his overdraft had been as high as £70,000 and had come down. He described trade credit as very tight, and duty payments as heavy; another factor he cited was the loss of trade caused by the destruction of part of the Sackville Street premises during the Troubles, for which he expected a ‘fair compensation’ within the month. Turning
on the charm, he thanked the directors and the bank officials for their consideration and courtesy, and sought an extension until the end of his financial year.
The bank replied ten days later, asking that the overdraft be reduced by £2,500 [€159,000] before I April, and by a further £2,500 a month thereafter. Willie agreed to abide by this schedule as far as possible, but noted that such a curtailment of the firm’s credit would seriously hinder the financing of the business and perhaps injure the firm’s earning power. In the event he did manage to hold the overdraft below £50,000, but it was not until 1942, in the middle of another war, that the account was in credit again.
In 1919 the firm was alerted to the fact that a very well-presented gentleman was calling on various suppliers in London, claiming to be from ‘Findlater, of Dublin’. He called for instance on Tom Smith & Co. Ltd., the world renowned Christmas cracker manufacturers, as they wrote:
A tall, well-dressed gentleman, grey hairdo, with a grey moustache, called to our office at 9.20 a.m. this morning, giving the name of ‘Findlater, of Dublin’, without presenting a card, and asked to look at our London Directory, which was readily handed over; he then asked if we had any Toffee to sell, and on seeing a sample in the Showroom, requested to take it away, but it was explained this would be no credit to us or him, as probably it was very stale, and not intended for tasting purposes, which seemed to upset the gentleman, who made out that we were very discourteous.
More understandably, at Benedictine he tried to get a free sample:
He requested that he might take away with him a bottle of Benedictine. This, owing to our Wholesale Licence, could not be supplied, and he accordingly went away without the bottle.
At Cinzano Ltd. he had more luck:
He certainly conveyed to us by his conversation and bearing, also his knowledge of the trade, that he was the senior of your firm. He said he had seen our wine advertised considerably and as he happened to be in London that day (the following day going to the Waddon Chase Hunt meeting) asked to taste our wine. He expressed his appreciation of the wine and we informed him that up to the present and as ‘Cinzano, Brut’ Sparkling Wine had only been placed on the market such a short time, we had confined our sphere of activities to London and the big hotel concerns, but that we were anxious to send a traveller to Ireland or to make some arrangements by which we could be represented in that country. We must admit that he did not appear to have called in solely for a drink as by his method of tasting it was evident that he knew something about wine.
Perhaps he just enjoyed the imposture, for he also called on Oxo, Heinz and Escoffier who sold a range of fine sauces.
Findlater’s of course issued a disclaimer, on 20 December 1919, which alerted our suppliers:
Having just received letters from two London Firms reporting the call on them within the past few days of a gentleman giving the name ‘Findlater of Dublin’ (without presenting a card), we think common courtesy on our part—not to say common sense—demands that we should write you a line of warning on the subject.
The individual in question is not known to us, and there certainly is no one in England at present authorised by us to use our name or obtain favours or personal attentions of any kind.
Eleven years later the mysterious imposter reappeared at Campbell Soups in London:
This man was in his late sixties or early seventies. His height was about five feet eight. He guessed my riding weight at eleven stone and said that he rode at ten stone, which would seem correct to me because he was the slender, athletic type. He was neatly dressed and wore a small but valuable fox headscarf pin, painted, under glass, which only a man thoroughly interested in hunting would affect. He mentioned by name, and I could see must have personally met, a number of Americans of my acquaintance who have hunted in Ireland. He also talked interestingly about the Masters and Packs in both England and Ireland when he found that I was interested. There was very little discussion about Campbell’s Soups except with the young man in the office of our Sales Agents, but he did say that his son expected to visit London shortly and he would give him the facts. There was no indication then or later of an ulterior object in his visit. He did not ask for money.
We never found out who the imposter was—and the mystery remains unsolved.
Memories of old Findlaters
Despite his somewhat authoritarian appearance in later years, Willie was fondly remembered by Linda Browne, who was Dermot’s secretary for many years.* During the late 1930s Willie
used to visit the O’Connell Street premises on a regular basis. He appeared to be a very strict and severe man on the surface, but when I got to know him better I found him kind and human. An example of this occurred one day when I was taking dictation from him. He asked me if I smoked. In trepidation I admitted that I did. Instead of telling me off, he turned around to his desk behind him and took a fistful of cigarettes from a box and gave them to me! [She added] In the basement of the shop was a staff cafe which was very good value. It needed to be with the very low wages paid!
My mother-in-law arrived from Kerry, a widow with her three sons, one Saturday afternoon in 1922. She came down to the village to go to the bank beside Findlaters. It was closed of course after 3 pm. Mr Vaughan, Manager of Findlaters, was standing at
* Linda Browne (née Canning) wrote this on 23 September 1986.
1910: Cakes were made fresh daily in our bakery in Thomas Street and this continued until the early 1950s.
the door of the shop, saw her distress and asked if he could help. She told him her predicament and he said: ‘Come in, order what you want and I will have them sent right away.’ She said: ‘But you don’t even know my name!’ Mr Vaughan said: ‘I know that when the bank opens on Monday you will get your cheque book and money and will come in to me and open your account.’ He had a very big smile on a very red face—a big, kindly man.
When I got married I also dealt there. When children arrived he could hardly wait till they sat up in the pram so that he could give them those bright pink biscuits. In those days tins were outside the mahogany counter. He was a very fair and just man, good humoured, but woe betide when orders went wrong or were late. Those responsible got the roar of his booming voice. There was such a day when I happened to be in the shop. You know, there was such a silence after he spoke. There was a large packet of matches on the counter, part of an order, and as it was the nearest thing to him he picked it up and slammed it down with such force it burst into flames. There was not a sound except the crackling of the matches as each box burst into flames. My small daughter thought she was at a party and gurgled away in her pram. That was the only human voice. Suddenly the door opened. In came a lady who sniffed and said in a high pitched voice: ‘Something burning?’ The shop came alive then. Everyone tried to look the other way!
Those were very happy days. We thought that the big clock that was such a part of Blackrock would be left there, but no, it was taken away with every sign of the shop. I remember the overhead money rail that so delighted my children. Even to this day they tell their children about the man that used to give them biscuits.
There was tall Mr Long at the bacon counter and short Mr Long at the provisions. Those are the only names that I recall just now, but I must say that all the staff were always polite and courteous at all times—no matter what size of order given. I am going back to June 1938 when I got married. Going down to Findlaters as a married woman twenty-one years of age, feeling so very important.
My family dealt with Mr Galloway in your Dalkey branch many years ago. I remember being sent down at the age of ten with a small basket on my arm and with a note for some butter or sugar which was weighed into brown paper bags.
The
atmosphere and
style of the
shops remained
much the same
from the late
19th century
to the 1950s.
Rosalind
Matthews of
Killiney has
happy memories
of the
Kingstown (Dún
Laoghaire)
shop in the
1930s and
1940s.
We were a big family and money was always scarce. Every week I walked up to the central confectionery counter on my own, feeling very important, whilst my mother was elsewhere in the shop, and with my precious one penny pocket money I would buy a cream bun. That memory still gives me joy.
Mabel Hanlon, a dark haired beauty, worked at the fruit and veg. behind the confectionery counter, and every week she would slip me a banana, then an apple, when war made the former scarce. I loved Mabel but used to worry lest she would get the sack for stealing on my behalf. Bacon and dairy produce were all sold on the counter at the left hand side of the shop as you went in its central doors. I always felt very irri-
tated with my mother as she never gave me enough time to get my fill of the slicer at work. I can still hear the ‘whrr whrr’ noise it made, going forwards and backwards at every cut.
But best by far was the butter lady. I used to wish she would run out of supplies and have to open a new box for my maximum pleasure! The butter rested on cold marble. Then with her ridged wooden pats taken from the water jug she would lop off lumps and cleverly carry each between the pats and place them on the scales until the required weight was reached–or exceeded. This on/off job was fascinating. When the desired poundage was reached, she would slap-bang it repeatedly into a respectable shape. There was no doubt in my mind: I was going to be a butter lady when I grew up!
The counter that I least liked was the groceries (tea, sugar etc.) on the right. This was very dull and seemed without action, apart from weighing. Here was where my mother spent the most time every Thursday, placing her order. She would sit on the high stool provided for customers and the assistant seemed just too grovelly–‘Yes Mrs Hanaghan’, ‘Certainly Mrs Hanaghan’, ‘Whichever you like, Mrs Hanaghan’. He had no time for me! But once the boring order was written in his book and the carbon paper moved under the next free page—then came the climax. Always I told her to give more money than was needed so the assistant would both load and unload the cash, and I would watch the coin-box zoom overhead twice on its wire, up to and back from the raised cash desk at the back of the shop. Never once did your man offer me the chance to pull the leather starter strap! So what if food was a bit dearer in Findlaters? Wasn’t it worth it, to see this wonderful contraption work? Good as the train set I never had.
The big Findlater clock was the heart of the town, as the Pillar was to the city. Kingstown then seemed full of deeply shrouded black-clad nuns, women in black shawls and barefoot children running on the cold, wet, wintry pavements. I still regard myself privileged to be fortunate enough to have always had shoes on my feet! My mother was a great manager of money. She would separate her cash each week into little piles and place them on the mantelpiece: so much for the bread man, milkman, cobbler and so on.
But the story doesn’t quite end there. For next day came the horse drawn delivery. Far more exciting than a motorised van. Mind you, Findlaters didn’t keep the horse and bridle etc. in such good nick as the coalmen did. But I can still see the writing on the cart. Part of the fun was watching the horse to see would his bodily functions take place. These both disgusted and fascinated me at one and the same time. But the driver was no fun, unlike the bread man, he never gave us a ride. Anyway, his cart seat wasn’t half as high as J. M. & O’B!*
Of course the view from the inside was different, as Johnny McDermott, who started as a delivery boy, told my sister Suzanne:
I used to collect a few orders from Northumberland Road, in between even as a messenger boy … The German Consulate, 58 Northumberland Road, the Argentine
*Johnston Mooney and O’Brien’s bread-vans.
Consulate at 54 Northumberland Road and an alcoholic lady in No. 50—tragic about her. A Miss Nugent in No. 62, a magnificent house—two or three maids and all that. But the alcoholic lady—a quart of whiskey every second day (a broken romance, I believe). She had a separate wine account. Her father used to be at the window watching. I used to have to go down and to try and sneak the quart to the cook—the cook was ‘in the know’ too—and 50 Gold Flake every day. Then maybe for a few weeks she would change onto bottles of sherry—two or three bottles a day–Alfino.
This particular morning I had the basket full, that height, and I struggled out. Mr Edmund Mitchell came up the floor, a big tall man—he was in the First World War, he was a major, he was a director. Anyway, I was nearly killed lifting the basket. ‘Put down that basket’, he says. ‘Take out all that stuff ’. He had seen the quart of whiskey in it for a start—it was on the top. ‘Take all them parcels out,’ he says. ‘Take everything out on the floor.’ I remember he put on glasses, looked at everything, seen everything invoiced. ‘Put them back now,’ he says. So, I put them back—I had to. The basket was very, very heavy. ‘That’s a bit heavy for you,’ he says. Your dad walked over to the counter. ‘Somebody up there give this lad a help with the basket.’ Your dad was only just coming into the firm then.
Williams, the Manager, was a slave driver. He was there to make the branch pay and, by God, he did. But he says to me, ‘You’re going out on the road now’, and he brings down an old bicycle from where he lived with double handlebars and all, an old antique, and he gives it to me. I was too small to ride it, it was too high, and I used to have to stand on the pedals, but he sent me out. And I thought, that’s handy, there were only about a dozen accounts to call on. My mother (we were very poor) got a provident cheque from Sloan’s of Parliament Street and got me a suit of long trousers and a pair of shoes to make me look respectable calling on houses. I was out for about four months and Williams comes down to me—I was afraid of my life of him—and he says ‘Do you ever look for new custom?’ Oh, he was a slave driver, but he trained me well. I looked at him in amazement because I’d no experience, you see. ‘I want you to get new business. Get it around.’ I was desperate for business. I called at a Dr Jackson at 8 Upper Fitzwilliam Street and the receptionist there says to me, ‘Yes, I can get you a couple of orders if you give me a kiss.’ I was so innocent. I didn’t know what she was talking about–that’s the God’s truth. So, to cut a long story short, she got me Pringle and O’Grady and Fegan. I never looked back. I started canvassing like nobody’s business. Whenever I seen furniture arriving I went into the house.
As a matter of fact, I got so much money that I got married on my Christmas boxes. I canvassed the Holy Faith Convent who used to buy cases of oranges, a couple of hams, cases of apples, 1/2 dozen milk fed chickens, maybe a couple of hens—all at retail price. The nuns used to have a cook, Molly was her name, and wanted a nice box of chocolates. The nuns didn’t look for anything. A van load of stuff used to go down. I’d a job getting a big box of chocolates out of Williams. It should have been a wholesale order instead of retail. I canvassed St Andrew’s College—retail. It should have been a wholesale order, 30 lbs of sausages at a time. Then Gateaux Swiss Rolls— we became the agents for that. Two dozen Swiss Rolls at the weekend, a cwt of sugar.
Then a fellah on the provision counter after the war couldn’t sell all the rough ends
of bacon. He was on to me about the bacon. At that time it was only nice pieces of bacon and ham people were looking for—not the rough ends, the collar, the jowls and all that. He had me pestered so much that I got cracking. I seen the matron of the Molyneux Home for the Blind first. That was a retail order that should have been a wholesale one. There was only one wholesale order that I canvassed and that was Baggot Street Hospital. But that was not the only wholesale order we had. Now, St Andrew’s College, St Conleth’s College, Church House, Holy Faith, Molyneux Home for the Blind. I used to call there once a week for a van load of stuff and I got an order for the rough bacon that they used to buy. St Andrew’s College was the same, 1/2 cwt rough bacon. At times the stock was enormous. One of the clerks of the office came to me and said ‘there is a letter of congratulations about the business on the provisions counter—marvellous percentage on the stock.’ I was getting retail prices which should have been wholesale.
Then Williams went back on the ledgers over the years, bad accounts. And he’d have a list every evening. ‘I want you to go out and get some of that money back.’ Some of the accounts were due in from the early 20s. I cleared a heck of a lot. You see, I was afraid of him. ‘Now, what money did you get in this evening?’ I’d have my receipt book with me you see. We kept expanding, expanding, expanding and I got out to Stillorgan Road then. Hume Dudgeon of Merville, Walsh’s of Belfield, O’Toole of Oldtown House, Stephenson of Cranford, University College, Cranford where all the luxury offices are now. I got them all. We had three horse vans. That was the secret of it you see—the deliveries.
I’d be out at half eight or quarter past eight in the morning, over across Baggot Street Bridge. The cook, there’d be a cook and maybe two maids and maybe a receptionist and all where the doctors had their waiting rooms, and they’d be delighted when I’d get over their lists ‘cos they’d have their orders over for lunch. At that time I’d be back at the shop at maybe half past nine in the morning with a book of orders and Micky McDonald would be waiting in the back. Orders that I collected the day before were delivered to Stillorgan that morning. A big box of potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, carrots—the whole lot.
Although the atmosphere of the business was much the same as it had been when he started so many years before, there were of course changes, some of which Willie remembered during the speech he gave while celebrating his silver jubilee as Managing Director.
During my time with the Firm eight more branches were opened. Personally I trust that we won’t open too many more for some time as I would never like the Firm to get into the position of what is called ‘Chain Stores’. We ought to be satisfied with what we are doing and to improve on this. But, of course, nobody can tell what is for us in the future.
Of course a great number of changes have taken place in my time. Perhaps the chief one is the employment of girls. It was quite an event when, many years ago, two girls were employed by my brother, Mr Adam as he was called, to attend behind the confectionery counter. Now I think we have more girls than boys, and they have bright
Always a winner!
ened up our establishments very suitably.
In the old time all our young men lived in; the hours of work were much longer. All our Staff were expected to be good boys and go to church regularly, and not to smoke. Also, the old partners did not encourage them to get married. We were, to a great extent, a happy family and knew each one of our staff personally, and their family history. When boys went away to the States or the Colonies, my father used to keep in touch with them and write to them and send them papers regularly. I trust we are still a happy family. I can assure you your Directors have constant thought for your welfare.
Willie’s clubs, associations and directorships
In his young days Willie was an active and successful rugby football player and was President of Monkstown Football Club (founded 1883) in 1888/92 and again in 1898/1900 and one of his brothers was Captain four times. Willie was also a founder member of Dublin Swimming Club, the first and oldest swimming club in Leinster. In 1897 he was President of the Irish Amateur Swimming Association, the second Leinster man to be so honoured. His term of office was perpetuated by the Findlater Cup which he donated for the Men’s 440 Yards (now 400 metres) Freestyle Championship of Ireland, and the third oldest of the trophies competed for annually.
He
was
also a founder
member of Rosslare
Golf Club
in 1905 (see
the club's
history by Tom
Williams) and
was a member
of Portmarnock
Golf Club.
One of Willie’s main social achievements was the founding of the Dublin Rotary Club in 1911.* He was credited with being the first man in Europe to join the movement, which had its origins in the United States. The Dublin branch’s
* Rotary is a world-wide, non-sectarian charitable society of businessmen and women and professional people. Its main business is to meet for a monthly lunch where there is usually a guest speaker.
first Hon. Secretary was William A. McConnell and J. H. Fleming was first President. In 1913 Willie helped in the formation of the British Association of Rotary Clubs, and for 1913/14 he became the first Rotary International Director representing Great Britain and Ireland, when he was at the same time the third President of the Dublin Club. In 1914/15 he was Vice-President of the British Association of Rotary Clubs.
Willie was proud of his very early membership status, and was not pleased when one rather too enthusiastic Rotary Secretary renumbered all members alphabetically and he was thus no longer Rotarian No.3! However he was fondly remembered for his term in office in Dublin as T. A. Grehan recalled:
The helm of our affairs was taken over by the breeziest of skippers, William Findlater . . . during his reign we revelled in a beanfeast of Findlater philosophy, unorthodox a good deal of it, but alluring all of it. Among Findlater’s distinction—he has quite a number about which he does not speak—was that of almost stunning Sir Harry Lauder* in a five minute speech full of cunning humour and delightfully itching sarcasm when seconding a vote of thanks to the great Scotsman, who happened to be our guest here some years ago. Before he took the chair we knew that Findlater would be worthwhile, he certainly was.12
His bonhomie and social skills were appreciated by his colleagues, and at the early age of thirty he became President of the Dublin Family Grocers’ and Purveyors’ Association. The trade magazine The Grocer wrote:
The business of the eminent Dublin firm of Alex. Findlater & Co. is one of the most extensive in the city, and the subject of our portrait, though one of the youngest members of the firm, is regarded as one of the best experts in all matters relating to the grocery and wine trades. In the latter respect he is facile princeps, and the extensive cellars of the firm, which are entirely under his management, are one of the features of Dublin commercial life. Mr Findlater is only thirty years of age, and as he is possessed of great business capacity, as well as with a desire to promote the interests of the Association of which he is now president, the best results may be expected to follow his election.
The paper went on to report that Willie had made an excellent impression at the conference in Cardiff the previous year, exhibiting an intimate knowledge of matters connected with the combined trades. The (British Isles wide) Federation was invited to Dublin for the meeting in 1898, so it was a special compliment that he should have been chosen to be President in such a responsible year.
Although Willie did not follow his brother Adam on to the political stage, he had numerous interests and commitments outside the business. He was Chairman of Jury’s Hotel, a director of Bolands, Thomas Hanlon and Co., the Blackrock Promenade Pier and Bath Co., the Trawling and Pure Ice Co., Central Meat Products; he was the second Chairman of the Empire Theatre Belfast and
* Sir Harry Lauder was a well-known Scottish comic singer; he appeared regularly in the Findlater theatres (see Chapter 14).
a partner in the Olympia Theatre. He was on the Council of the Industrial Development Association and ‘he showed a deep and practical interest in the encouragement of Irish manufactured goods, indeed it may be said that his company was a permanent exhibition of goods of home production’. In 1933 Findlaters published an Irish price list, with eighteen pages devoted entirely to goods of Irish manufacture—until two pages of wines and spirits were slipped in at the end. He was actively interested in the Royal Hospital for Incurables, a member of the managing committee for many years, and Chairman of the Board of the Incorporated Skin and Cancer Hospital.
Protestant
businessmen in
Irish politics
in the 1920s
It has been
said (by my
cousin Brian
Inglis for
example) that
after 1922 the
Protestant
community
tried to
ignore the new
state and
remained, in
his words,
West Britons.*
This was
certainly not
true for the
majority of
the Protestant
business
community. In
the 1923
general
election the
Dublin Chamber
of Commerce
put forward
five
candidates to
represent the
Dublin
business
interests.13
Among these
was William
Hewat,
chairman of
Heitons, who
was President
of the Chamber
of Commerce in
1922, and was
elected to the
Dáil for North
Dublin. He was
treated in the
Dáil as the
spokesman for
business,
finance and
commerce
interests.14
Another was John Good who was returned to the Dáil for South County Dublin in 1923. He was President of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce in 1920, a unionist candidate pre-Treaty (1918) who now described himself as ‘a businessman and not in any sense a politician’. He was instrumental in getting Trinity to introduce a degree in Commerce (1925) and in 1930 headed a deputation to the Department of Education to discuss the provision of the Vocational Education Bill. In his will in 1941 he left £5,000 [€240,000] to the Trinity College School of Commerce.15
James Douglas (1887-1954), a Dublin businessman and a Quaker, played a unique, behind the scenes, part in the early days of the new state. During the Civil War he and Senator Andrew Jameson were asked by de Valera to act as an intermediaries to try and find an agreed settlement. After the Treaty Collins asked him to become secretary of the committee established to draft the first Irish Constitution in 1922. He declined but agreed to serve on the committee which came up with three possible drafts within a mat-
* The thrust of Brian Inglis’s West Briton was that the Protestant community remained at heart part of the British Empire. ‘They read The Times at breakfast, revered the Royal family, detested the Sinn Féin rebels as murderers and gunmen, and regarded the 1921 Treaty as the great betrayal.’ This may have been the way for ladies at home, the retired and the widowed, but not for the business community.
ter of three months. Douglas was elected to the first Senate of the Free State and served in that body with distinction for thirty years 1922-36, 1938-43 and 1944-54. His son Harold Douglas succeeded him in the senate. Their business was a large drapery company in Wexford Street, Dublin and an electrical business in Dawson Street.16
Andrew Jameson, head of the distillery (1905-41) and President of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce for 1921-22, was much involved in the Home Rule negotiations to achieve a better deal for the Southern unionists.17 He was one of a handful of prominent Protestant leaders, like Adam in the previous decade, who were keen on bridging the gap between nationalists and unionists and enthusiastic that unionists should play a part in the public life of the new state.18 After independence he continued to play a prominent role in the Chamber and was a member of the Senate from 1922 to 1936, and was one time Governor of the Bank of Ireland.
Bryan Cooper, a friend of Willie’s in Rotary, was another important voice, though not from the business community. He was head of the Sligo landed family and had served with distinction in the First World War. He was elected Unionist MP for South County Dublin in 1910, the constituency in which Adam had caused Walter Long so much stress in the 1906 election. In 1919 he was Press Censor in Ireland. After independence Bryan was again returned to the Dáil and held his seat from 1923 to 1930, representing South County Dublin, first as an Independent to 1927 and then for Cumann na nGaedheal.
Sir Maurice Dockrell (1850-1929) head of the builders providers and timber merchants’ firm bearing his name, and a noted unionist, was prominent in the affairs of the city in Adam’s time, and sat on various committees with him. This family, more than any other in public affairs, bridged the unionist/nationalist changeover. In 1902 the Hibernian Bank, on whose board William Martin Murphy sat, had a representative of the Dockrell family. Louis Cullen comments: ‘The Dockrell link with the nationalist circle around the Hibernian Bank may explain how the family came to play such an active role in the public life of the state after 1922.’19 Henry Dockrell (1880- 1955), his son, was President of the Dublin Chamber of Commerce in 1933 and Maurice Dockrell (1908-86), his grandson, was prominent in business and politics in the post-1945 era and Lord Mayor of Dublin in 1960-61.
Jim Larkin is best remembered as the charismatic leader of the workers in the 1913 confrontation with the employers, arising from the Lock-out that had such a devastating effect on the less-well off citizens of the city. Little is known of the stress he caused in Findlaters in 1924. He was in America during the 1916 Rising and the Civil War, and only returned to Dublin in April 1923 having spent some time with Stalin as a Secretary to the Third International in Moscow. On his return to Ireland he led his followers into a split with the ITGWU and on 15 June 1924, with his brother Peter, formed the Workers’ Union of Ireland (WUI). By July the following year Peter Larkin was corresponding with Findlaters on pay issues for the porters and vanmen.
It would appear that Findlaters had established a working relationship with the ITGWU and grievances were dealt with in a business-like manner. However, the clerical and selling staff were represented by the Irish National Union of Vintners, Grocers and Allied Trades, and it was that union that in 1925 initially called a strike in pursuit of a wage claim, which Findlaters had rejected. Among the union’s demands was an insistence that Findlater’s only employ union members. ‘We could not even take on an apprentice—not even the son of one of our own men—unless he enrolled as a member of the union’, Willie protested.
The following week Larkin brought out the WUI members, mostly motormen and porters, in sympathy, informing Willie that ‘The Union has instructed its members to withdraw their labour, until such times as the dispute with the Purveyors’ Assistants is settled and the Police Protection is withdrawn. Yours faithfully, Executive Committee, (Signed) Jim Larkin’.
As usual with any strike Larkin was involved in, feelings quickly ran high. The strike was not solid, for many of the staff decided to stay working. The branches were picketed, and the familiar cat-call of ‘scab’ was heard. On 18 April Jim Larkin wrote in The Irish Worker:
In the Howth branch of Messrs Findlaters, the motor driver, a W.U.I. man, was withdrawn. On Sunday one of the Civic Guards out of the local barracks went into Findlaters and drove the motorvan around the village, delivering the provisions, excusing himself on the grounds that he could not see the people starving. We would suggest that this act of scabbery might merit the attention of the responsible authorities. There should be a limit, even to police scabbery.
The Evening Herald then reported:
Messrs Bewley, wine merchants, Middle Abbey street, lent the services of their lorry and driver, Matthew Murphy, to Messrs Findlaters to take or deliver goods to or from them.
Murphy was on his way home when two men approached him from the opposite side of the street and fell upon him. He was struck a violent blow to the face, followed by another which split the man’s nose and from the injury it could not have been caused by the naked hand.
Murphy fell to the ground, and the other man deliberately kicked him on the head.
Such was the horror caused by this abominable and shocking outrage that everyone in the neighbourhood set upon the two dastards who ran away.20
The above report in the Evening Herald, and the conditions of the strike generally, stimulated many letters to the Editor–with the authors hiding behind more or less fanciful pseudonyms, as was the custom of the day–where those involved described the issues involved.
Sir—I welcome the letter from ‘Pax’ and hope that some one will come forward to settle the dispute without further delay. I am not breaking a secret when I say that the greater number of us assistants that are out on strike, are absolutely sick of the whole affair. Most of us unfortunately realise that the men in control of our Union who are
running this strike are a small body of extremists whose political friends did their utmost to ruin the country and are now engaged in a forlorn attempt to destroy the business of some of the most considerate and best employers in this city.
Many of us had no grievance in any shape or form, and it was only in loyalty to our Union that we came out at the word of command, but now realise our mistake. Some of our best men have gone back to work and forsaken the Union.
‘Footsore’
Sir—‘Footsore’ states that he had no grievance. He had every opportunity at all the general meetings prior to the strike of expressing his opinion and protesting against extreme action. This he did not do. Only one member voted against a strike. His employer settled with his employees, and that member is working.
The writer refers to those people who are fighting us as ‘considerate and good employers’. Some of those good and considerate employers were, prior to the strike, paying girls the princely sum of 10s. per week. I personally know of a girl who, after ten years’ service with the one firm, receives 23s. per week.
S. MacEidnain.
Sir—I would like to ask ‘Footsore’ if he is an assistant, what was his attitude at the general meeting, when a clear and unmistakable ballot vote gave a mandate for the strike. Where, then, does the ‘small band of extremists’ come in? The responsibility for the strike rests on the general consent of the body of assistants.
I doubt if ‘Footsore’ is so blind, granting he is an assistant, as not to know that amongst the assistants comprising the Grocers’ Union there are men of every political shade of opinion and of different religious creeds. The organisation is not an extremist political machine: it is for the safeguard of workers in our trade.
‘Footsore’ is apparently not a follower of his convictions or he would not show such base ingratitude to those ‘most considerate and best employers’ by going on strike. He is free to prove he is one of the ‘best men’ and go back to them.
Banba.
When I entered the company thirty years later, in 1956, the staff spoke in hushed tones of ‘The Strike’. I was put to work with Bryan, the loftsman who, I was told, was the only person re-employed in Findlater’s O’Connell Street after the strike. Actually, records show that Joe McAuley, driver, was also re-employed. Bryan said very little, but busied himself handling the sacks and always had a needle and bodkin to hand to sew up holes made by small vermin overnight!
I learnt of the harrowing story of a family who, not having been re-employed were left destitute as a result of the strike, and had to make their way out of Kingstown (Dún Laoghaire), towards Dublin, with their few possessions on a cart. I was therefore interested to find that Willie had consulted with all the branch managers, who in turn consulted the non-striking staff, on the question of re-employing the strikers. It appears that the non-strikers had been given a hard time by the picketers, and they were in no mood to forgive and forget. Their responses were as follows:
From the Kingstown branch:
In reply to yours of 18th inst., the general feeling here is not favourable to the strikers being taken back, except where an application was made a couple of days after going out. The fact is this staff don’t want to come in contact with them in any way, saying they had no cause to go out. Personally I would not let one striker work again in the firm. They well knew what they were doing and thought they would succeed. Had they done so, no consideration would have been shown to the firm. Yours faithfully,
A. Browne.
From Dalkey:
In reply to yours received this morning. The staff are all of the opinion that under no circumstances should any of them be taken back for two reasons:
First, that they had no real grievance, only an unfair demand
Secondly, at the eve of a holiday to ruin our trade, and which might have resulted in putting them all out of employment.
I remain, Sir, Most respectfully,
Geo. Galloway.
From Thomas Street:
In reply to your letter of 18th inst., my staff are very anxious to return to their work but are too frightened of the Union to apply for re-instatement. I am very anxious in the interest of trade to have them re-engaged as they were a very suitable staff. Yours faithfully,
Denis Daly.
From Rathmines:
As far as I can find out, the Rathmines staff do not like the idea that any of the ‘strikers’ should be taken back, as for two or three days after going out they had every chance of returning to work if they wished, after they knew the position in which they stood. In our Branch the manager went to several of his staff to appeal to them to return but without success. Now when defeat is in sight they want to get back. Your obedient servant,
J Flynn.
From 65 Upper Dorset Street:
I am sorry I cannot let you have the views of my staff regarding those on strike, as they are all on strike.
Two of the girls called in here several times and asked to be taken back. They are not so much to blame as the male members, who went a bit too far, and for whom I have no sympathy. Yours faithfully,
WB.
And from 28-32 Upper Sackville Street:
The feeling seems to be general that no one will work with any of those who went out on Strike on April 6th last., as not only had they no reason to join the ‘Outsiders’ but went further to stimulate a very hostile feeling amongst those ‘Outsiders’ against
the Staff who remained on at their work—this I can personally vouch for—Only in a few cases did I hear any sympathetic reference—viz. to Joe and Lewis McAuleys (motor drivers), Bryan Farrelly (loftsman), William Shields (packer). They remember the concentration of Strikers that took place on the 6th and 7th April outside these premises, and many other days at Opening and Closing time, and that former employees, both from here and Branches, were very active at such times in leading and inciting hostile demonstrations, particularly against our respectable Girl workers.
A few days after the strike, Willie addressed a large assembly of the remaining staff in Clerys Restaurant to ‘discuss matters concerning the business of the firm’. He started with a wry reference to recent events:
It is a gratification to me that we have as large a staff as are present tonight, because within the last ten days, if you had behaved differently to what you have, the number of staff that would be here to meet us would be very small indeed. I must first thank you all for sticking by the old firm and sticking to your work!
This reminds me of the last meeting that we had at Howth some years ago. We talked about the question of Trade Unionism and I told you that it was perfectly at your own option whether you would join or not. I had no objection in any shape or form but on the other hand I told you that I would not join any Trade Federation against you that might dictate to me what I should do under any circumstances, nor would I be bound to any forced lock-out of my staff. (This was being proposed by Maypoles, Liptons, Home and Colonial and Sheppards, prominent retailers of the day).
Most of you have joined the Union which is intimately connected with the licensed trade. For years, you know, the licensed trade has been doing wonderfully well and are able to pay better wages than the average grocer, because of all our expensive deliveries and everything else, we get far less money for what we sell than the licensed trade who hand the goods over the counter.
I would like to remark here that you girls ought to feel a little bit annoyed because you had been considered as 15 per cent or 20 per cent less value than men. My point is that you girls ought to be compensated equally with men, provided you do the same work . . . and you must also consider supply and demand, if there are too many girls and not enough of them get married and taken off the market (laughter) . . .’*
Not many years ago I tried to get my son, now eighteen or nineteen years of age, to make up his mind what he intended to do. His mother naturally thought it would be a good thing to make a gentleman of him (laughter), that it was a good thing to have one gentleman in the family; whether he would go to Oxford or Cambridge, and so on. I thought I would have to put up out of this £400 somehow or other. The boy said that he did not intend to go to a University—first of all because he had no pretence to brains, and he was not going to waste four years at Trinity College or elsewhere.
The real fact is that he has no special desire or taste to go in for any profession. However, he said he would like to come into the business. At that time he was at school, and I wrote him pointing out the difficulties of business. That is to say, with
* Up to the mid-1950s or even later, female employment ceased on marriage.
The presentation of an illuminated address to Willie by the staff congratulating him on his Silver Jubilee as managing director of the company. It stated that ‘the past 23 years have been very trying and difficult for the commercial community, and it is gratifying that the company under your leadership, has been enabled to overcome all obstacles’. In a similar address to John and Adam in 1883 the purpose was to show appreciation of the many acts of kindness which they had lavished on the staff especially those living-in: ‘Our domestic comforts, recreations and amusements have ever had your prompt attention’ and went on to thank them for the billiard table ‘which has given unqualified pleasure’. The picture shows Ruby McConnell who illustrated the Address, Willie, and Leo Whelan RHA who painted the portrait. The staff who contributed to the address were:.
labour and the employment of men or girls or anything else; I also said that Ireland was in a very dangerous condition; that nobody knew how things were going to go; that all our best customers were leaving the country, and that I didn’t see any future in business. I got a letter back from him in which he stated: ‘After all, that Findlater’s did fairly well out of it; that they got a good living, that I had a fair house and not only that, but that it was curious with all my thoughts running that way that I would let my son-in-law, Mr Mitchell, join the business.’ But now, if we have to submit to the rules of the Union, I suppose I cannot bring him into the business without asking permission. I am not, however, worrying about that. I want to get him into the business
and he will come in a year or two because I want to show you that we intend to keep up the continuing of the business . . . this shows that I have no intention of closing it down (applause).
This was the last strike in Findlaters. The son was, of course, Dermot, my father, who joined the company in 1927.
Willie died aged seventy-three on 31 July 1941 at his home, Glensavage in Blackrock, and is buried in Dean’s Grange with his wife Lucie and their elder son Desmond, who had died many years before aged two. My grandmother Lucie died a few months later, on 11 November 1941.
Notes and references