As interest grows in one of Belfast’s most famous sons it’s time for a statue of Henry Joy in the heart of Belfast argues Sean Napier.
“Every monument we raise reflects our values, our fears, and our hopes. It’s a mirror of who we are at our best, and who we aspire to be.”
— Maya Angelou
Statues of bronze and stone and memorials serve as touchstones for history, values, and identity, are supposed to remind us of our shared heritage and aspirations. They act as conduits for past memories that move through time and want to project a positive raison d’etre into the future if it survives modernity. They can offer hope and sadness at the same time. It’s not always about great people, awesome victories and accomplishments but also great sacrifice, pain and sorrow even failure.
Ireland has had its fair share of this down the years….as G.K Chesterson observes in his poem about idealised exploits…
“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad,For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.”
Sculptor Auguste Rodin believed that statues are more than just art; they are a reflection of life, the past and the emotions that the artist brings into form. Erecting a statue captures a moment, person, an idea for eternity, preserving it for future generations.
I was at the Lyric Theatre production of ‘A Christmas Carol’ in December, where one steps into the world of the Charles Dickens timeless classic, which was joyously reimagined for the stage by local writer Marie Jones. In the opening scenes, Jones evokes the memories of Henry Joy and Mary Ann McCracken as well as William Drennan to set the scene of Belfast in bygone days of old.
Those names have great currency in Belfast to this day (if you know your history) and how these Belfastians played a central part in the enlightened Unitedirish days of the town in the 1790’s and beyond.
Their names have always been mentioned in whispered breaths down the centuries across Ulster, never forgotten, always omnipresent, timeless heroes. Rebels with a cause. Scratch the rough surface of Belfast and you will always find them there. Jones knows her local audience well.
Henry Joy McCracken was the fifth of six children born to Captain John McCracken, a Belfast industrialist, and his wife Ann Joy, a daughter of the founder of the Belfast News Letter. Harry (as he was called by his family) was born on 31 August 1767 and raised in the Presbyterian faith. The family later moved to Rosemary Lane (now Street).
Henry took an interest in the cotton and textile business in which his father was partner and at the age of 22 he was appointed manager of Joy, McCabe and McCracken.
As an employer he showed himself to be fair and to be concerned about the welfare of the working poor. It was a concern which he shared with his favourite sister Mary Ann and they both established the first co-educational Integrated Sunday School in Belfast in 1788, to teach reading and writing to the children of the city’s poor. Because it was open to all denominations it drew the wrath of the sectarian bigots in the city. The Anglican vicar of Belfast, and later Belfast High Sheriff, William Bristow, along with several women with “rods in their hands as badges of authority” forced its premature closure.(There wouldn’t be another until 1981)
The family flaunted the convention of the time and employed Catholics in their home. The family was renowned for social occasions as many future members of the UnitedIrish were their guests.
Later after Henry Joy’s execution, Mary Ann would take care of his six-year-old illegitimate daughter Maria Bodle (McCracken) into adulthood bringing her up in the Catholic faith of her family, a very uncommon thing to do in those days but that’s the brilliance of Mary Ann McCrackens character who in her own right deserved a statue in front of Belfast City Hall in 2024 for her social activism. A truly remarkable woman with her like-minded brother Harry.
It was in 1791 Henry Joy joined the first Society of United Irishmen in Belfast in the Crown Tavern down Crown Entry. In 1796 he was imprisoned for over a year in Kilmainham Gaol, Dublin. When the insurrection broke out in June 1798, McCracken was made general of the forces mustered at Donegore, which then attacked Antrim town. They were defeated by government troops. After a month on the run McCracken was captured near Carrickfergus while trying to escape to America.
Henry Joy was tried at the Assembly Rooms in Belfast (a building now under threat from terminal neglect, disintegration and developers).
According to Henry Joy’s final letter, he had
“… been ignominiously condemned to die at five o’clock this afternoon on the testimony of two witnesses who knew me not and have no knowledge of me in any way.”
He finished the letter by saying,
“…In my fight for reform and redress of evils which constitute a crying shame to any nation and its rulers I have pleaded the cause of the Catholics who are more oppressed than we Dissenters, and I am a true Dissenter and shall die in that simple faith in less than an hour from now. What I have considered as my great mission is drawing to a close, but may the sons of freedom continue the struggle for rights above might.”
The story of young Henry Joy McCracken ends within a hundred metres of where it all began on High Street, Belfast, where he was born. He walked to the gallows accompanied by his sister Mary Ann and his minister, the Rev Sinclaire Kelbourne, guarded by Red Coats, from Artillery Barracks in Telfair Street. He walked through Ann Street to his place of death on that warm summer afternoon to Cornmarket., High street on the 17th of July 1798. As he approached the scaffold, he must have looked up at the severed flyblown heads of his former comrades in arms, Barrister James Dickey, Printer John Storey and Henry Byers, all impaled on spikes in front of the Market House there.
Public executions were always a ritualised procedure that was important for the authorities to make a good show for the audiences gathered. Their message was clear, it was a display of ascendency power and state terror and what happens when you disobey the Crown, you will be ‘launched into eternity’ forever, swinging from a rope, the more gruesome, the better.
His sister Mary Ann McCracken has left us a description of the last few minutes of her beloved brother Henry Joy’s life….
‘About 5 p.m he was ordered to the place of execution, the old market-house, the ground of which had been given to the town by his great-great-grandfather. I took his arm, and we walked together to the place of execution, where I was told it was the Generals orders I should leave..‘
With his death only moments away, a Major Fox tried yet again to have Harry McCracken become an informer, offering exile and money once again, but once again he refused. he would never betray his comrades and the cause of liberty.
…. and John Smith, himself only a boy at the time, recalls Harry’s :
“….calm, serene countenance, on which the prospect of death seems to shed the radiance of glory…….the brave young fellow stood for a moment beneath the gallows, his eyes following the retreating figure of his devoted sister. He then turned his gaze upon the crowd and seemed as if he would address them.
Hoarse orders were given by the officers, the troops moved about, the people murmured, a horrible confusion ensued and in a minute or so the manly, handsome figure on which the impression of nobility was stamped, was dangling at a ropes end. The body was soon cut down and the only favour extended to it was the freedom from mutilation” {beheading}
It was a time when Belfast was experiencing a transformative intellectual and cultural movement, as revolutionary ideas spread first from America and then France. Two revolutions within fifteen years would catalyse great change across Ireland. Wolfe Tone himself commented on these Presbyterians believing that it was they who grasped the nettle of enlightenment thinking first with both hands saying…
‘..the dissenters of the north and more especially of the town of Belfast are from the genius of their religion and from the superior diffusions of political information among them the most sincere and enlightened Republicans……I have already mentioned the early wisdom and virtue of the town of Belfast…’
A proposed Henry Joy statue would be more than just a decorative element in a public place; it would be a powerful symbol and reminder of Ireland’s first democrats, those who brought the ideas of democracy to Ireland. Indeed, Belfast is the birthplace of Irish democracy. Yes, those Belfast radical Presbyterians brought republicanism to this island. It was their creed.
For decades, statues in Belfast reflected a singular narrative, representing the dominant or privileged group in society. This limited perspective, however, failed to honour the diverse and multifaceted nature of our history.
The statues that fill our civic spaces must evolve to be inclusive, reflecting the broad spectrum of identities, experiences and contributions that make up our shared past. Belfast, for years, upheld a particular worldview, often at the expense of the marginalised. From colonial figures to military heroes whose actions may sit uncomfortably with many in our towns and cities around the north. For me, I wouldn’t remove a single one of these statues but I would like to see some ‘parity of esteem’ for others to be there and tell their story also.
As we move towards a more inclusive society post-Good Friday Agreement, the way to memorialise our past must change by broadening the representation within our civic spaces. By doing so, we send a message that history is not monolithic and all voices need to be heard.
Every city has its very own historical heroes, some even fictional (like Molly Malone in Dublin, thousands of tourists flock to it for a photo op). In Belfast we have an abundance of real heroes of 1798 not fictional ones. We need to illuminate these overlooked heroes more and remember their struggles and triumphs which can foster a more empathetic society that recognises the humanity in all our citizens.
Henry Joy McCracken was born, lived and was hanged, then eventually buried at High Street at St Georges Church in Belfast where he remains to this day.
Surely Belfast owes one of her greatest sons his place in our hearts once again and let him know we haven’t forgotten him, as we have the Farset River that gave life to the town and its name which now flows silently forgotten and unobtrusive beneath the pavements of High Street to this day.
Again French sculptor Auguste Rodin reflects the importance of such things in history and culture:
“A statue has a life of its own, and the artist must find its hidden life and set it free.”
Let’s bring Henry Joy McCracken back to High Street in bronze and let him be free amongst his people, sending out radical vibes advocating the ideals of equality, liberty, democracy and enlightenment once again to…
…’..unite the whole people of Ireland, to abolish the memory of all past dissensions, and to substitute the common name of Irishman in place of the denominations of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter..”
I’m up for that!
The campaign is up and running
United Irish Historical Society campaign
There is a full official elected committee campaign group up and running, working hard behind the scenes to promote this idea.
It is called the ‘United Irish Historical Society’ and we have already had various meetings as well as one with the Belfast City Council Chief Executive to bring our proposal to the committee/council as mentioned in the Irish News.
We are also launching our first celebratory festival this summer to highlight these superb radical and enlightened Presbyterians of 1798.
So its full steam ahead!
Public historian Sean Napier has worked nationally and locally as a News Editor/Journalist at various media outlets, as well as lecturing in Media Studies at his local college.
He presently runs ‘City Heritage Tours‘ that covers the popular ‘Belfast and Dublin 1798 Walking Tours’ as well as many other new historical city-based tours of interest in Ireland & across Europe.
As interest grows in one of Belfast’s most famous sons it’s time for a statue of Henry Joy in the heart of Belfast argues Sean Napier.
“Every monument we raise reflects our values, our fears, and our hopes. It’s a mirror of who we are at our best, and who we aspire to be.”
— Maya Angelou
Statues of bronze and stone and memorials serve as touchstones for history, values, and identity, are supposed to remind us of our shared heritage and aspirations. They act as conduits for past memories that move through time and want to project a positive raison d’etre into the future if it survives modernity. They can offer hope and sadness at the same time. It’s not always about great people, awesome victories and accomplishments but also great sacrifice, pain and sorrow even failure.
Ireland has had its fair share of this down the years….as G.K Chesterson observes in his poem about idealised exploits…
“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad,For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.”
Sculptor Auguste Rodin believed that statues are more than just art; they are a reflection of life, the past and the emotions that the artist brings into form. Erecting a statue captures a moment, person, an idea for eternity, preserving it for future generations.
I was at the Lyric Theatre production of ‘A Christmas Carol’ in December, where one steps into the world of the Charles Dickens timeless classic, which was joyously reimagined for the stage by local writer Marie Jones. In the opening scenes, Jones evokes the memories of Henry Joy and Mary Ann McCracken as well as William Drennan to set the scene of Belfast in bygone days of old.
Those names have great currency in Belfast to this day (if you know your history) and how these Belfastians played a central part in the enlightened Unitedirish days of the town in the 1790’s and beyond.
Their names have always been mentioned in whispered breaths down the centuries across Ulster, never forgotten, always omnipresent, timeless heroes. Rebels with a cause. Scratch the rough surface of Belfast and you will always find them there. Jones knows her local audience well.
Henry Joy McCracken was the fifth of six children born to Captain John McCracken, a Belfast industrialist, and his wife Ann Joy, a daughter of the founder of the Belfast News Letter. Harry (as he was called by his family) was born on 31 August 1767 and raised in the Presbyterian faith. The family later moved to Rosemary Lane (now Street).
Henry took an interest in the cotton and textile business in which his father was partner and at the age of 22 he was appointed manager of Joy, McCabe and McCracken.
As an employer he showed himself to be fair and to be concerned about the welfare of the working poor. It was a concern which he shared with his favourite sister Mary Ann and they both established the first co-educational Integrated Sunday School in Belfast in 1788, to teach reading and writing to the children of the city’s poor. Because it was open to all denominations it drew the wrath of the sectarian bigots in the city. The Anglican vicar of Belfast, and later Belfast High Sheriff, William Bristow, along with several women with “rods in their hands as badges of authority” forced its premature closure.(There wouldn’t be another until 1981)
The family flaunted the convention of the time and employed Catholics in their home. The family was renowned for social occasions as many future members of the UnitedIrish were their guests.
Later after Henry Joy’s execution, Mary Ann would take care of his six-year-old illegitimate daughter Maria Bodle (McCracken) into adulthood bringing her up in the Catholic faith of her family, a very uncommon thing to do in those days but that’s the brilliance of Mary Ann McCrackens character who in her own right deserved a statue in front of Belfast City Hall in 2024 for her social activism. A truly remarkable woman with her like-minded brother Harry.
It was in 1791 Henry Joy joined the first Society of United Irishmen in Belfast in the Crown Tavern down Crown Entry. In 1796 he was imprisoned for over a year in Kilmainham Gaol, Dublin. When the insurrection broke out in June 1798, McCracken was made general of the forces mustered at Donegore, which then attacked Antrim town. They were defeated by government troops. After a month on the run McCracken was captured near Carrickfergus while trying to escape to America.
Henry Joy was tried at the Assembly Rooms in Belfast (a building now under threat from terminal neglect, disintegration and developers).
According to Henry Joy’s final letter, he had
“… been ignominiously condemned to die at five o’clock this afternoon on the testimony of two witnesses who knew me not and have no knowledge of me in any way.”
He finished the letter by saying,
“…In my fight for reform and redress of evils which constitute a crying shame to any nation and its rulers I have pleaded the cause of the Catholics who are more oppressed than we Dissenters, and I am a true Dissenter and shall die in that simple faith in less than an hour from now. What I have considered as my great mission is drawing to a close, but may the sons of freedom continue the struggle for rights above might.”
The story of young Henry Joy McCracken ends within a hundred metres of where it all began on High Street, Belfast, where he was born. He walked to the gallows accompanied by his sister Mary Ann and his minister, the Rev Sinclaire Kelbourne, guarded by Red Coats, from Artillery Barracks in Telfair Street. He walked through Ann Street to his place of death on that warm summer afternoon to Cornmarket., High street on the 17th of July 1798. As he approached the scaffold, he must have looked up at the severed flyblown heads of his former comrades in arms, Barrister James Dickey, Printer John Storey and Henry Byers, all impaled on spikes in front of the Market House there.
Public executions were always a ritualised procedure that was important for the authorities to make a good show for the audiences gathered. Their message was clear, it was a display of ascendency power and state terror and what happens when you disobey the Crown, you will be ‘launched into eternity’ forever, swinging from a rope, the more gruesome, the better.
His sister Mary Ann McCracken has left us a description of the last few minutes of her beloved brother Henry Joy’s life….
‘About 5 p.m he was ordered to the place of execution, the old market-house, the ground of which had been given to the town by his great-great-grandfather. I took his arm, and we walked together to the place of execution, where I was told it was the Generals orders I should leave..‘
With his death only moments away, a Major Fox tried yet again to have Harry McCracken become an informer, offering exile and money once again, but once again he refused. he would never betray his comrades and the cause of liberty.
…. and John Smith, himself only a boy at the time, recalls Harry’s :
“….calm, serene countenance, on which the prospect of death seems to shed the radiance of glory…….the brave young fellow stood for a moment beneath the gallows, his eyes following the retreating figure of his devoted sister. He then turned his gaze upon the crowd and seemed as if he would address them.
Hoarse orders were given by the officers, the troops moved about, the people murmured, a horrible confusion ensued and in a minute or so the manly, handsome figure on which the impression of nobility was stamped, was dangling at a ropes end. The body was soon cut down and the only favour extended to it was the freedom from mutilation” {beheading}
It was a time when Belfast was experiencing a transformative intellectual and cultural movement, as revolutionary ideas spread first from America and then France. Two revolutions within fifteen years would catalyse great change across Ireland. Wolfe Tone himself commented on these Presbyterians believing that it was they who grasped the nettle of enlightenment thinking first with both hands saying…
‘..the dissenters of the north and more especially of the town of Belfast are from the genius of their religion and from the superior diffusions of political information among them the most sincere and enlightened Republicans……I have already mentioned the early wisdom and virtue of the town of Belfast…’
A proposed Henry Joy statue would be more than just a decorative element in a public place; it would be a powerful symbol and reminder of Ireland’s first democrats, those who brought the ideas of democracy to Ireland. Indeed, Belfast is the birthplace of Irish democracy. Yes, those Belfast radical Presbyterians brought republicanism to this island. It was their creed.
For decades, statues in Belfast reflected a singular narrative, representing the dominant or privileged group in society. This limited perspective, however, failed to honour the diverse and multifaceted nature of our history.
The statues that fill our civic spaces must evolve to be inclusive, reflecting the broad spectrum of identities, experiences and contributions that make up our shared past. Belfast, for years, upheld a particular worldview, often at the expense of the marginalised. From colonial figures to military heroes whose actions may sit uncomfortably with many in our towns and cities around the north. For me, I wouldn’t remove a single one of these statues but I would like to see some ‘parity of esteem’ for others to be there and tell their story also.
As we move towards a more inclusive society post-Good Friday Agreement, the way to memorialise our past must change by broadening the representation within our civic spaces. By doing so, we send a message that history is not monolithic and all voices need to be heard.
Every city has its very own historical heroes, some even fictional (like Molly Malone in Dublin, thousands of tourists flock to it for a photo op). In Belfast we have an abundance of real heroes of 1798 not fictional ones. We need to illuminate these overlooked heroes more and remember their struggles and triumphs which can foster a more empathetic society that recognises the humanity in all our citizens.
Henry Joy McCracken was born, lived and was hanged, then eventually buried at High Street at St Georges Church in Belfast where he remains to this day.
Surely Belfast owes one of her greatest sons his place in our hearts once again and let him know we haven’t forgotten him, as we have the Farset River that gave life to the town and its name which now flows silently forgotten and unobtrusive beneath the pavements of High Street to this day.
Again French sculptor Auguste Rodin reflects the importance of such things in history and culture:
“A statue has a life of its own, and the artist must find its hidden life and set it free.”
Let’s bring Henry Joy McCracken back to High Street in bronze and let him be free amongst his people, sending out radical vibes advocating the ideals of equality, liberty, democracy and enlightenment once again to…
…’..unite the whole people of Ireland, to abolish the memory of all past dissensions, and to substitute the common name of Irishman in place of the denominations of Protestant, Catholic and Dissenter..”
I’m up for that!
The campaign is up and running
Public historian Sean Napier has worked nationally and locally as a News Editor/Journalist at various media outlets, as well as lecturing in Media Studies at his local college.
He presently runs ‘City Heritage Tours‘ that covers the popular ‘Belfast and Dublin 1798 Walking Tours’ as well as many other new historical city-based tours of interest in Ireland & across Europe.