The Neills were no exceptions among shipowners in suffering depletion of their fleet through the risks of rock and storm. The Triton, Alma and White Star were lost far from home as we have seen, but the dangers of the local coast equalled most foreign shores; the average number of wrecks on the Down coastline alone was ten per annum in the 1870s. A high proportion of the Belfast collier fleet ended their careers by being total losses on this trade. Two captain-owners from John Neill's close-knit Belfast dockland locality lost their vessels around this time, Edward McSherry of Earl Street, whose Thomas ended up in Cloughey Bay, and York Street man James Magee in the Peruvian, a wreck in Loch Ryan. Now and again whole crews vanished, such as the men from the schooner Goldfinder, overloaded and missing between Ayr and Belfast in November 1875, or even of the brand-new steamer Bowfell, Troon for Belfast, a mystery loss seven years later.
The Neill connection had an excellent record as far as loss of life was concerned, though when the Bangor partnership's schooner Gratitude was driven before a force ten northerly on her passage from Ayr on 13 August 1874, Captain Cowan and his crew were fortunate to escape. Making Bangor harbour was an impossibility for the little vessel, just 46 tons, and she fetched up on the South Briggs Reef, off Orlock. A party of coastguards from Groomsport were swiftly on the scene with their rocket apparatus, hoping to rig a breeches buoy, but the range was too great, and the crew, trusting their lives to the schooner's tiny boat, made the land safely. Such accidents were accepted as routine much in the way, it seems, that society today takes road accidents for granted, and Captain Cowan continued to serve in Neill vessels, later skippering the Slaney.
Vital to their basic needs as the schooners were, the Neill brothers were now looking to higher things. It was shortly after this that the trio made their boldest move to date and ordered the first vessel ever to have been specifically built for the family. She was not to be another wooden collier, though; Charles, James and John went to the top of the sailing ship market - a barque able to carry over 1300 tons of grain, to be built of iron at the Queen's Island, Belfast, shipyard of Harland and Wolff.
By 1876, when the yard received this order, ship number 116, Edward Harland and G. W. Wolff had surmounted the difficulties consequent upon competing with cross-channel yards closer to vital raw materials. Two pupils of the original firm, Walter H. Wilson and W. J. Pirrie (later Lord Pirrie) had recently become partners, and the yard's enduring reputation for splendid workmanship was spreading. Many of the plans of their products survive, but, unfortunately, those of No; 116 do not appear to be among them. However, her price has withstood time - £13,820, a deal on which Harland and Wolff made a profit of almost £1,000.
The River Lagan, as she was aptly named, was completed in June 1877, at an interesting time in shipbuilding history. Steel had not yet begun to be used in construction, and iron and wood sailing ships were holding their own against steamers. Steam power did change the world's merchant fleets, but very slowly, and it was only the invention of the high-pressure triple expansion engine and the use of the best steel for its boilers that finally made economic cargo carrying by steamers a reality. So the River Lagan, which was first registered at Belfast Custom House on 13 August 1877, took her place as one of 155 new British iron sailing vessels classed that year by Lloyd's Register of British and Foreign Shipping. The chief shareholders were the Charles and James partnership with 28 each, while John's investment of 8 made up the legal 64 shares total. James Neill was designated managing owner.
According to the immaculate copper-plate handwriting of her registry document, the River Lagan was a three-masted iron barque of 851 net registered tons, 199 feet in length by 32 in the beam and with a depth of hold of 19.5 feet. The crew were housed forward in the fo'c'stle, the cook in the deck house that included the galley, and the master, first mate, second mate, steward and boy apprentices in cabins aft under the raised quarter deck. Once past the building stage, a fair amount of material survives on the River Lagan, from the important practical fact that she required relatively little ballast to handle well when empty, to the more picturesque details of comfort id the master's quarters, which included in their furnishings a marble topped sideboard and two settees upholstered in velvet! Her inventory also names protective firearms, two muskets and two pairs of pistols, for piracy was still a threat in Far Eastern waters, and it was to these parts that she was bound. Before 1880, when 'Lloyd's Weekly Shipping Index' began publication, it is difficult to trace ships' movements, but we know from the striking painting mentioned at the outset of this history that the barque was in Hong Kong in 1878, and the following year saw her again in these distant waters, for she arrived in Hamburg on 10 November 1879 from Bassein in Burma. Thereafter, to follow her global wanderings is easy and deeply fascinating.
Down the Elbe to Cuxhaven she was towed on 16 January 1880 and embarked on another 12,000 mile voyage to Yokohama in Japan. On 24 February Captain Quinn hailed another. vessel they fell in company with 300 miles east of Brazil, and the two exchanged names and voyages, which the other vessel reported to Lloyd's on arrival in the U. K. - a contemporaty practice - but nothing more was heard of the River Lagan until the telegraph message that she had arrived in Yokohama, 159 days out.
She spent July and August around the Japanese coast, calling at Kobe, Yloilo and Hiogo, before sailing for Manila in the Philippines, thence 66 days across the Pacific to San Francisco. In this rumbustious sea port Captain Quinn loaded grain for Liverpool and sailed on 4 January 1881. On 30 May, 146 days out, the River Lagan entered the Mersey..
In command, as he had been since the maiden voyage, was the young Carrickfergus man William Quinn, 34, with his townsman David Jack, aged 27, as first mate. The relative youth of these men gives the lie to the stereotype of sailing ship officers as ancient and grizzled sea dogs. Young or old, though, they were men of exceptional talent~ to take a ship literally round the world by studied use of wind and tide, negotiate with consuls and agents and stow cargoes in remote countries; and deal with every kind of shipboard incident. A modern British deep-sea tramp has an elaborate back-up system at home - owners' offices with telex machines, word processors, Reuters money market directories, personnel officers, superintendent engineers ready to jet out to the ship if mechanical trouble is serious but the River Lagan had no kind of equivalent to these. James Neill, at home in Sandy Row, heard not a word from his barque for months on end, during which time Captain Quinn, and his successors, were in sole charge. An immensely responsible job, indeed, but for many men obviously a preferable alternative to shore life. In a society rigid in its class structure, to become a sea captain was a rare means of bettering oneself, and with a monthly wage of £10, it was a chance for a thrifty man to save a little money. Beyond this, though, seafaring was an exciting opportunity. Who else ever reached Burma, or Japan, or the Philippine Islands - or had any idea what life and customs there were like? Vessels lingered in port much longer then, and for the crew, initially at least in their careers, the sights and pleasures and pitfalls of a foreign port were a stimulating adventure. The appalling hardship of seafaring life is never far away, in the Neill saga or any other, but doubtless for many the short horizons of life ashore were claustrophobic and unsettling.
The River Lagan's circumnavigation of the globe netted a profit of £1859 divided proportionately among the three shareholders. That this is the only such figure surviving for her is attributable to the fact that the summer of 1881 was a period of intense legal activity for James and Charles Neill; their partnership known as Robert Neill and Sons was in the process of being dissolved with much attendant paperwork. The precise reasons for the split are now lost, but it seems not to have been an amicable parting. James, who had been living with Charles and Olivia in Sandy Row, had married again, this time another of the Campbell girls of Ballygrainey, Mary Bella. Charles and Olivia then bought property in Quay Place - now Crosbie Street ~ and set up home there.
Every item that was held jointly, whether a schooner or settee, was valued and eventually an effort was made to divide all the property in halves of equal value. Even then, disputes persisted over the ownership of a steam winch lying in York Street foundry, and the ownership of shares in the Belfast, Holywood and Bangor Railway, and the Newtownards Gas Company, arbitration not settling these until May 1884. The partnership had been officially dissolved on 30 July 1881.
It is the division of the houses and land that had been jointly held which is perhaps most interesting, as it established for the future the pattern of life and trade of the two sides of the family that had now become clearly apparent. James Neill received Nos. 5-7 Sandy Row and the limekilns, a house in Ballymagee Street, and 40-50 acres of land inside the Bangor boundary. Charles Neill gained Nos. 1-6 Quay Place, the terrace known as Tower Buildings at the foot of Victoria Road, two houses in Gray's Hill, 14 acres of farmland adjoining the Belfast Road and, in Newtownards, the coal shed and a weigh bridge at the Railway Station.
The division of the shipping fleet was a less clear-cut business as brother John Neill in Belfast held shares in many of them, and Captain Nicholson owned eight in the Caroline, and it was not until 1882 that the vessels were allocated as follows: Slaney, Just, Mary Jane and River Lagan (after two attempted sales) to James Neill; Camel and Louisa to Charles; Caroline, Cambridge and Timandra to John.
James Neill decided to carry on the business name Robert Neill and Sons, and today's firm - a limited company since 1908 - derives directly from this 1881 rearrangement. The present Charles Neill Ltd., again, dates from the same origin. Naturally, it is irresistible to ask what strengths the company might have attained had not the split occurred, but no answers can be more than hypothetical. As household coal merchants, there was a good but never a huge business in North Down, and of course very little industry to supply. A firm foothold in expanding Belfast would have been needed quickly if the Neills were going to aspire to the size of, say, the Kelly firm. As shipowners now in the deep-sea trades, it was one thing to run a single barque, quite another to build up a fleet resistant to the pattern of boom and slump in world commerce and which could be replaced by steam to remain competitive. A few, and only a few, small family firms achieved this.
Vital to their basic needs as the schooners were, the Neill brothers were now looking to higher things. It was shortly after this that the trio made their boldest move to date and ordered the first vessel ever to have been specifically built for the family. She was not to be another wooden collier, though; Charles, James and John went to the top of the sailing ship market - a barque able to carry over 1300 tons of grain, to be built of iron at the Queen's Island, Belfast, shipyard of Harland and Wolff.
By 1876, when the yard received this order, ship number 116, Edward Harland and G. W. Wolff had surmounted the difficulties consequent upon competing with cross-channel yards closer to vital raw materials. Two pupils of the original firm, Walter H. Wilson and W. J. Pirrie (later Lord Pirrie) had recently become partners, and the yard's enduring reputation for splendid workmanship was spreading. Many of the plans of their products survive, but, unfortunately, those of No; 116 do not appear to be among them. However, her price has withstood time - £13,820, a deal on which Harland and Wolff made a profit of almost £1,000.
The River Lagan, as she was aptly named, was completed in June 1877, at an interesting time in shipbuilding history. Steel had not yet begun to be used in construction, and iron and wood sailing ships were holding their own against steamers. Steam power did change the world's merchant fleets, but very slowly, and it was only the invention of the high-pressure triple expansion engine and the use of the best steel for its boilers that finally made economic cargo carrying by steamers a reality. So the River Lagan, which was first registered at Belfast Custom House on 13 August 1877, took her place as one of 155 new British iron sailing vessels classed that year by Lloyd's Register of British and Foreign Shipping. The chief shareholders were the Charles and James partnership with 28 each, while John's investment of 8 made up the legal 64 shares total. James Neill was designated managing owner.
According to the immaculate copper-plate handwriting of her registry document, the River Lagan was a three-masted iron barque of 851 net registered tons, 199 feet in length by 32 in the beam and with a depth of hold of 19.5 feet. The crew were housed forward in the fo'c'stle, the cook in the deck house that included the galley, and the master, first mate, second mate, steward and boy apprentices in cabins aft under the raised quarter deck. Once past the building stage, a fair amount of material survives on the River Lagan, from the important practical fact that she required relatively little ballast to handle well when empty, to the more picturesque details of comfort id the master's quarters, which included in their furnishings a marble topped sideboard and two settees upholstered in velvet! Her inventory also names protective firearms, two muskets and two pairs of pistols, for piracy was still a threat in Far Eastern waters, and it was to these parts that she was bound. Before 1880, when 'Lloyd's Weekly Shipping Index' began publication, it is difficult to trace ships' movements, but we know from the striking painting mentioned at the outset of this history that the barque was in Hong Kong in 1878, and the following year saw her again in these distant waters, for she arrived in Hamburg on 10 November 1879 from Bassein in Burma. Thereafter, to follow her global wanderings is easy and deeply fascinating.
Down the Elbe to Cuxhaven she was towed on 16 January 1880 and embarked on another 12,000 mile voyage to Yokohama in Japan. On 24 February Captain Quinn hailed another. vessel they fell in company with 300 miles east of Brazil, and the two exchanged names and voyages, which the other vessel reported to Lloyd's on arrival in the U. K. - a contemporaty practice - but nothing more was heard of the River Lagan until the telegraph message that she had arrived in Yokohama, 159 days out.
She spent July and August around the Japanese coast, calling at Kobe, Yloilo and Hiogo, before sailing for Manila in the Philippines, thence 66 days across the Pacific to San Francisco. In this rumbustious sea port Captain Quinn loaded grain for Liverpool and sailed on 4 January 1881. On 30 May, 146 days out, the River Lagan entered the Mersey..
In command, as he had been since the maiden voyage, was the young Carrickfergus man William Quinn, 34, with his townsman David Jack, aged 27, as first mate. The relative youth of these men gives the lie to the stereotype of sailing ship officers as ancient and grizzled sea dogs. Young or old, though, they were men of exceptional talent~ to take a ship literally round the world by studied use of wind and tide, negotiate with consuls and agents and stow cargoes in remote countries; and deal with every kind of shipboard incident. A modern British deep-sea tramp has an elaborate back-up system at home - owners' offices with telex machines, word processors, Reuters money market directories, personnel officers, superintendent engineers ready to jet out to the ship if mechanical trouble is serious but the River Lagan had no kind of equivalent to these. James Neill, at home in Sandy Row, heard not a word from his barque for months on end, during which time Captain Quinn, and his successors, were in sole charge. An immensely responsible job, indeed, but for many men obviously a preferable alternative to shore life. In a society rigid in its class structure, to become a sea captain was a rare means of bettering oneself, and with a monthly wage of £10, it was a chance for a thrifty man to save a little money. Beyond this, though, seafaring was an exciting opportunity. Who else ever reached Burma, or Japan, or the Philippine Islands - or had any idea what life and customs there were like? Vessels lingered in port much longer then, and for the crew, initially at least in their careers, the sights and pleasures and pitfalls of a foreign port were a stimulating adventure. The appalling hardship of seafaring life is never far away, in the Neill saga or any other, but doubtless for many the short horizons of life ashore were claustrophobic and unsettling.
The River Lagan's circumnavigation of the globe netted a profit of £1859 divided proportionately among the three shareholders. That this is the only such figure surviving for her is attributable to the fact that the summer of 1881 was a period of intense legal activity for James and Charles Neill; their partnership known as Robert Neill and Sons was in the process of being dissolved with much attendant paperwork. The precise reasons for the split are now lost, but it seems not to have been an amicable parting. James, who had been living with Charles and Olivia in Sandy Row, had married again, this time another of the Campbell girls of Ballygrainey, Mary Bella. Charles and Olivia then bought property in Quay Place - now Crosbie Street ~ and set up home there.
Every item that was held jointly, whether a schooner or settee, was valued and eventually an effort was made to divide all the property in halves of equal value. Even then, disputes persisted over the ownership of a steam winch lying in York Street foundry, and the ownership of shares in the Belfast, Holywood and Bangor Railway, and the Newtownards Gas Company, arbitration not settling these until May 1884. The partnership had been officially dissolved on 30 July 1881.
It is the division of the houses and land that had been jointly held which is perhaps most interesting, as it established for the future the pattern of life and trade of the two sides of the family that had now become clearly apparent. James Neill received Nos. 5-7 Sandy Row and the limekilns, a house in Ballymagee Street, and 40-50 acres of land inside the Bangor boundary. Charles Neill gained Nos. 1-6 Quay Place, the terrace known as Tower Buildings at the foot of Victoria Road, two houses in Gray's Hill, 14 acres of farmland adjoining the Belfast Road and, in Newtownards, the coal shed and a weigh bridge at the Railway Station.
The division of the shipping fleet was a less clear-cut business as brother John Neill in Belfast held shares in many of them, and Captain Nicholson owned eight in the Caroline, and it was not until 1882 that the vessels were allocated as follows: Slaney, Just, Mary Jane and River Lagan (after two attempted sales) to James Neill; Camel and Louisa to Charles; Caroline, Cambridge and Timandra to John.
James Neill decided to carry on the business name Robert Neill and Sons, and today's firm - a limited company since 1908 - derives directly from this 1881 rearrangement. The present Charles Neill Ltd., again, dates from the same origin. Naturally, it is irresistible to ask what strengths the company might have attained had not the split occurred, but no answers can be more than hypothetical. As household coal merchants, there was a good but never a huge business in North Down, and of course very little industry to supply. A firm foothold in expanding Belfast would have been needed quickly if the Neills were going to aspire to the size of, say, the Kelly firm. As shipowners now in the deep-sea trades, it was one thing to run a single barque, quite another to build up a fleet resistant to the pattern of boom and slump in world commerce and which could be replaced by steam to remain competitive. A few, and only a few, small family firms achieved this.