New Jalopy?

I have expressed an interest in the new version of the trusty two-seater sports model I get about in, despite a brief visit to the vet's about a respiratory ailment - viz. the air conditioning.

I've been in touch with a dealership on the Mainland.

I have to confess that I am not hugely impressed with the local Mercedes-Benz dealership in Northern Ireland. I have been in contact with them regularly though they never reciprocate, which comes close to complacency in my book.

What we need in the Province is another Mercedes dealership in competition with the present establishment.

The car I've been eyeing is a red two-seater convertible, automatic of course, with black leather, parking sensors, heated seats, cruise control and so on.

My own jalopy, which has graced the road for 19,000 miles, has all these features.

Chapel Island Pond

 Pond at 11:30

I spent most of the day on Chapel Island, beside Greyabbey, County Down. This little island belongs to the National Trust.

There were about eleven of us today. We drove to a location adjacent to the island, parked the vehicles, and carried our tools and belongings by foot, across the foreshore, to the island.

Alan brought the quad bike.

Our task today was to excavate two ponds, in readiness for sheep-grazing.

 Pond at 17:00

It was mostly sunny and warm, and digging the vegetation out was hard work, though we managed to achieve the task, as can be seen in the pictures I took.

Fodder today for self was corned-beef sandwiches with salad-cream and onion chutney; washed down with a refreshing beaker of Namosa tea.

We disembarked from Chapel Island at about five o'clock.

Bateson Offspring

Further to my curiosity as to the identity of the Bateson children in an oil painting of 1762, the mystery has been solved.

Mr Bateson had five offspring, not one.

THOMAS BATESON (1705-91)  succeeded his father in the Lancashire estates, but disposing soon afterwards of those, he removed to Ulster, and settled at Orangefield House, County Down. 

He wedded, in 1747, Margaret, daughter and co-heiress of of Mr White, of White Hall, County Antrim, and widow of William Hartley Esq, of Dublin; and had issue,

THOMAS, of whom we treat;
RICHARD, who died unmarried in 1783;
WILLIAM, died unmarried;
JANE, who wedded, in 1782, John Dunne Esq, KC, in Ireland;
FRANCES, who married, in 1805, Hans Mark Hamill Esq, of County Down.

Dying in 1791,  Mr Bateson was succeeded by his eldest son, 

THOMAS BATESON (1752-1811), married Elizabeth, daughter of George Lloyd FRS, of Hulme Hall, Lancashire.

Which Batesons?

Photo credit: Ulster Museum

The Family of Thomas Bateson, Esq. (1705–1791) 

I AM curious to know the relationship of the subjects in this painting are, in relation to the Thomas Bateson of 1705-91.

According to my research, he had an only child, Thomas (1752-1811).

  by Strickland Lowry(attributed to) 

Date painted: 1762
Oil on canvas, 163.7 x 264 cm
Collection: National Museums Northern Ireland

This portrait of the Bateson children is both an imposing conversation piece and a fascinating record of the interior of the Bateson home at Orangefield, Co. Down, near Belfast.

Lowry executed the painting with the eye of a reporter, so detailed and accurate are the children’s costumes and the objects in the room.

Originally thought to be by Philip Hussey, the current attribution is based upon documentary evidence of 1828 and 1865, which gives the picture to Lowry.

Furthermore, the children’s large eyes, bland expressions and stiff poses accord with his style.

Lowry, originally from Cumbria, arrived in Ireland around 1762 and worked in the country intermittently until the early 1780s, mainly in the north, though details of his movements are sketchy.

Besides portraits, his output embraced still-life and trompe l’oeil paintings, works which show him to have been a versatile and clever painter.

Killyleagh Sights

I visited Gibb's Island and Killyleagh, in County Down, today.

The tiny island - now virtually a peninsula - is looking well. A large tree has fallen across the path in the wood.

I enjoyed a packed lunch, consisting of corned-beef sandwiches with salad-cream and onion chutney.

At Killyleagh, I ambled up to the parish church (St John the Evangelist), where I strolled round the old graveyard.

A few of the graves date from the late 16th century. There are a few Sloans, though I couldn't see any Sloanes or ancestors of Sir Hans Sloane Bt, the village's most celebrated son.

The Heron mausoleum is the finest in the graveyard.

Near the harbour is a statue in memory of Sir Hans, unveiled in 2002 by Prince Andrew, Baron Killyleagh.

Tonight's Viewing

Timothy Belmont is at home this evening. I shall watch television, viz. Music & Monarchy, presented by Dr David Starkey CBE, on BBC2 HD.

At nine, I will switch to ITV3 and view Poirot, played of course by the inimitable David Suchet CBE.

David Suchet encapulates Hercule Poirot, as the late Jeremy Brett epitomized Sherlock Holmes. Other pretenders are negligible.

I daren't mention it to my relatives, though so-called "reality" shows and populist television in general bore me greatly.

Sorry!

ROBINSON & CLEAVER has opened as a restaurant in central Belfast, at the venerable old department store premises which bore the same name.

I wish them good fortune. Their location is propitious.

I still possess a navy blue polka dot tie, which was purchased at Robinson & Cleaver's, of Belfast and London, in the 1970s.

Thursday Revelry

I was without the two-seater for a fair portion of the day yesterday. It was suffering from a slight ailment concerning the air conditioning. I don't use this much, anyway; however, I left it in a local garage.

It transpires that, having been "gassed", there was some sort of blockage or other in the system.

I spent Thursday afternoon with Her Grace in central Belfast. Another pal joined us later, when we all went for dinner to an Indian restaurant close to Great Victoria Street.

The night was spent in the Europa Hotel.

I had to leave quite early ~ after eight ~ the next morning, due to the necessity of taking the jalopy to the mechanic; thereby missing my dearly beloved full, cooked, Ulster breakfast (that ghastly term "the full Irish" used by some).