IT is several years now since we had a Farmers Show in Newport. Show Day was enjoyed by everybody, not just those whose livelihood was in farming. Town dwellers, visitors from abroad home on holidays, tourists who came to see a bit of 'Irish' life, grandfathers and grandmothers -all agreed that it was a splendid occasion.
The Quay was an ideal place to hold the show. "Macra na Feirme" a body of young stalwarts who were ready and willing to tackle any task, worked very hard and turned a hand to whatever job big or small, that came along - erecting stalls, arranging this and that, till everything was ready for "The Day." They were led by their energetic and very capable secretary, who took it all in his stride, any difficulty that cropped up he got round it. As they said "and if he couldn't get round it, he walked through it."
At any time, the Quay is a very pleasant place to visit. Down by Newport River, there is green grass to walk on, a roadway under the trees of the Grove that surrounds Newport House, low garden-wails in front of the houses owned by the people who are so fortunate to live there. Nobody seemed to mind if people sat n their low walls to rest their feet and have a little gossip or just to enjoy the sunshine.
Even if Show Day turned wet, or stormy or both, one could always find shelter not too far away. Of course, there was always Sister Brigid's Tea Rooms, which meant lovely hot tea, homemade scones and a warm welcome from the good Sisters of St. Lucy, who are still going strong.
The real business of the day was where the men, fathers and sons were lined up, fussing over their animals which were all haltered and brushed (and sometimes brilliantined) from head to hoof, cows, bulls, calves, sheep, pigs and most certainly dogs -all fifty seven different varieties of them, also groomed and shampooed fore and aft for the Big Day. (Whisper it, but many a busy housewife discovered when she set about her own bit of titivation for the Show (if she got time!) that her best comb had disappeared off her dressing- table). Without a by-your-leave, "someone" had pinched the comb to tease the knots out of the cow's tailor "do-up" the pony's mane. Because of the day that was in it, poor Mamma couldn't make a fuss about a mere comb. Animals before Humans on Show Day.
Some housewives brought fowl to the Show, hens, ducks and geese got a day out too. Their owners chief concern was to make sure that none of the feathered ones could flyaway. Hens and cocks might take off and flutter into the Grove, never to be seen again, or the ducks and geese sure would enjoy a swim down the Newport River, given half a chance off with the current down with ebbing tide they would go ...we all know what is said about ducks and water; that goes for geese also.
Then there were the ladies who were more interested in the culinary department of the Show. Hadn't they spent weeks laying in extra supplies of the ingredients for making rich fruit cakes, swiss rolls, genoa sponges, marble cakes, tarts, scones. ..that is enough to be going on with, maybe! Each lady knew which of these concoctions she was best at making, the cakes, the tarts, the scones, maybe the whole lot. With silver cups and lots of cash why not? Besides, weren't those nice pots of homemade jam in the kitchen press, blackcurrant, gooseberry and so forth, all ready and waiting?
Of course, if the first attempt at the cake was not a success, she made a "repeat", swiss rolls that wouldn't roll, sponges that didn't rise high enough or not at all, such disasters were always possible because things had to be just perfect for the Show. Had she just been slapping up something nice for the family tea, those disasters rarely happened. "Repeats" were the only remedy. There is, by the way, a sad tale of the misguided young man who asked his "best girl" -"How many of those did you make before you got a right one?" The look he got left him a bit shrivelled and that was the end of his romance with her!
Many visitors to the Show were very impressed by the selection of produce on the various stalls. A Frenchman was heard to remark on the beauty of the vegetables and flowers, which he said equalled, even surpassed, those he had seen on the market stalls of Paris. Praise indeed. Any competitor who overheard this remark felt quite consoled even if he or she won nothing.
Being primarily a farmers show, judges arrived to pick the winners among the bulls, cows, sheep, horses, bonhams and the rest. Before these wise men arrived the owners of the \;arious animals strolled about, chatting casually with neighbours and doing a little amateur judging, sorting out the likely winners ("off-hand like") just for amusement and a laugh to pass the time. But when the official judges came on the scene all that "nonsense" ceased abruptly. A hush fell upon the audience. This was serious. Probing and pinching each animal in turn the judges walked in front of, or behind the exhibits. The looker-on, not involved in all this, might feel that those wise, knowledgeable judges were making the most of their moments of power. When they were ready and no sooner, they would give the signal for the chosen winners, Hereford, Angus or whatever, to be led by its halter to one side. Nothing as important as choosing winners at Newport (or any other) show was done hurriedly or casually, of course!
When the judge gave the signal, a resounding slap on the rump of the cow, or bull or whatever was led aside to have the "Red Rosette" First Prize, Newport Show tied to its halter. Thus the judging followed on through each group.
Then there were the dogs, all fifty seven different varieties of dogs, also brushed and groomed fore and aft, even to a higher degree than the cattle. Shep or Lassie had to look well-cared for on show day. He or she might chase the postman any other day but not on show day.
While all this important business was going on in the animal section, a nice lady or gentleman who "knew his (or her) onions" would be studying the exotic blooms elsewhere on the Quay, searching for a few winners among the jam-jars, not for homemade jam, but the "Best Collection of Wild Flowers." Then the plates of eggs, Best Plate of Duck Eggs had to be studied. The choice of the Judges here, though in a slightly less dramatic atmosphere than down there where the cattle section was meant quite a substantial bit of pocket money for some lucky boy or girl.
When it came to the end of the show, the boys and girls would look forward to a hunk of show fruit cake, sponge sandwich, swiss roll etc. and no questions asked whether those goodies had won a prize or not. The judges, the real ones, were hard at work while mother or auntie or someone poured out cups of tea for the hungry family at home after a great day at Newport Young Farmers Show.
Those were the days.