The Life and Times of Mary Ann McCracken, 1770–1866. Mary McNeill
and their reactionary influence still dominated the Irish Parliament in Dublin. The election of 1790 was in full swing, and in County Antrim the contest was a trial of strength between the independent candidates sponsored by the merchants and the freeholders, and the representatives of the party in power. Every vote would be needed. Francis was infirm and suffering greatly from his leg, but, he who had never “shunned fatigue”, gathered up his ebbing strength and, in spite of all “obstructions”, had himself transported from Randalstown to the polling booth at Antrim town, every jolt on the rough road inflicting still more pain. When his astonished grandson from Belfast met him and exclaimed in amazement “What brought you here, Sir?”, the characteristic answer was instantly forthcoming: “The good of my country.”12 The Independent candidates, the Hon. John O’Neill and the Hon. Hercules Rowley, were triumphant by a small majority [in the county of Down the election was still more momentous. There, after a terrific struggle, one of the seats was wrenched from the clutches of the wealthy and powerful Downshire family, by Robert Stewart, a handsome lad of barely twenty-one. When, in the following January, the newly elected Parliament assembled it included also another young man – Capt. Arthur Wellesley. Eight years later John O’Neill was to meet his death in tragic circumstances in Antrim town, while the other two were well on their way to the fame that awaited them as Viscount Castlereagh and the Duke of Wellington respectively], but within three weeks, on June 10th 1790, Francis Joy died.
By a curious coincidence the brief paragraph in the Belfast News-Letter modestly announcing the death of its founder, is immediately followed by a more lengthy notice of the death of Dr. Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia, – two men whose sympathies in their separate spheres were closely akin.
His remains were brought back to the town that owed him so much, and Francis Joy lies buried where once was the graveyard of the Parish of Belfast.
It is not without significance that the story of the Antrim election was remembered and recorded by his granddaughter Mary Ann McCracken.
CHAPTER 2
HENRY AND ROBERT JOY
1720–1785
The first authentic glimpse of Francis Joy’s sons is found in a letter from Henry to Robert, written in 1745 from Carrickfergus. The Young Pretender had lately raised his forces in Scotland and there were rumours of an attempted invasion of the Antrim coast. As in previous warnings of danger, hundreds of stalwart young men from the neighbouring counties rushed to augment the garrison at Carrickfergus, at that time a place of far greater strategic importance than Belfast, making “a handsome appearance, and going through their exercise with great regularity and exactness”1 when they were reviewed by the Earl of Antrim, Lord Lieutenant of the county. Henry Joy was one of these, and, full of importance and excitement, he wrote to his brother on October 30th, less than six weeks after Charles Edward’s victory at Preston Pans:
Dear Bro.
We are sent down here to keep Garrison, how long we are to remain I cannot tell… I dont believe this place was better garrisoned these many years. The reasons of our coming here you will find in our Paper enclosed. There is no getting furloes and I dont know how we’ll get our business managed and my Father begs you may come down – there are four out of our house viz. Father, I, Michael and Billy Dunn, and the other people have published two papers and design to continue it, but meet with no manner of encouragement, I believe they’ll be obliged to drop it. You must excuse my seldom writing, we are so prodigiously hurried and in continual alarms.
Yours in great haste,
Henry Joy.2
The rival publication was almost certainly the short-lived Belfast Courant,3 and there is more than a suggestion of professional rivalry in its appearance. The Courant was started in 1745, printed by John Magee on paper manufactured by James Blow, both men being already well-established printers in Belfast. Probably they resented the intrusion into their domain of the enterprising lawyer, and determined to retaliate. However, their effort met with little success and continued for only one year.
Brother Robert was in Dublin. Perhaps he was visiting Mr. Slator and his famous paper mills at Saggart and Clondalkin; perhaps, too, he had been one of the vast number who during two days had filed past the coffin of the great Dean of St. Patrick’s, for Jonathan Swift4 had died just one week before the letter from Henry was written – Jonathan, who fifty years earlier, as the young prebend at Kilroot, had made his way so many times along the shore of the lough to Belfast in his ardent wooing of Jane Waring, his Varina.
Be all that as it may, the volunteering episode at Carrickfergus was to have its later far-reaching repercussions.
When their father moved from Belfast, Henry and Robert were twenty-five and twenty-three respectively. Henry took over the notary’s office, and both brothers were responsible for editing and printing the News-Letter. The following years were predominantly a time of happy family life. Of Henry’s wife, Barbara Dunbar, we know little, while the following note from Robert to his fiancée – and second cousin – Grizell Rainey of Magherafelt, suggests that he had had to be a patient and considerate wooer:
My dear Miss Grizzey,
Mr. Rankin has consented to oblige me, provided it be done with secrecy.
And by this time I hope there remains nothing to protract any longer the happy crisis – But that you may not be in any degree disconcerted, I shall not set out till Thursday; when I hope to see you: and shall order it so as our Boy and horse will be with us the next day at Noon – Meantime (as we’ll depend on the Portmantua from Antrim) his carriage may be ready
I am, my Dearest
Yrs. most affectionately
Robert Joy.5
Belfast
Nov. 24. 1751.
The Rev. John Rankin was the recently ordained minister of the new Presbyterian congregation in Antrim. His insistence on secrecy is an interesting reminder that at that date, and until 1847, marriages solemnized by Presbyterian clergymen were illegal. “Miss Grizzey” was greatly admired and loved by all her friends, she and Robert were to be very happy and in the eleven years of their short married life they had six children, but only two of them reached maturity.
Meanwhile the firm of Henry & Robert Joy extended its connections. A considerable amount of printing and publishing other than the News-Letter was undertaken, and it is still possible to pick up books with its imprint. In 1767 the site at Cromac, then outside the confines of Belfast, was acquired on which the Joy paper mill was to be built.
The News-Letters of the period form a fascinating commentary on the growing Belfast. As well as carefully written editorials and occasionally an article in lighter vein, the paper carried detailed reports of proceedings in the Dublin and London Parliaments, news from Europe, Asia and the New World, descriptions of social functions at the Court of George III, and a little legitimate gossip about London society in general. Shipping intelligence was of the greatest importance, and the arrival of vessels in the port of Belfast, and the cargoes they carried were carefully reported: sugar, rice, mahogany and molasses from the West Indies; brandies, wines, fruits and spices from France, Spain and Portugal; timber from Memel and other Baltic ports; as well as the more general trade with London, Liverpool and Scotland. All these imports came in exchange for the salted meat and fish, hides, butter, tallow and linen, produced throughout the province, truly the beginning of Belfast’s seaborne trade. Merchants and shopkeepers in their turn used the paper to advertise their wares – whalebone for stays, hams and cheeses in great variety, velvets and velveteens, serges and sateens, silks and satins – and we read names so soon to become notable in the history of the town: Mr. Getty and his timber, teas and wines; Mr. Neilson and his drapery; Mr. Cunningham displaying all the riches of the West Indies; Mr. Emerson his tobacco and snuff, and so on. There were announcements, too, of local social events, – the coteries in Belfast, the coteries in Ballymena, Dromore and elsewhere, not to speak of cock fights and travelling menageries with their attendant shows. Mr. McGrath the dancing master from Dublin notified the public of his return to town for some weeks, as did the dentist who, also for a few weeks, would be found – strangely enough – at the