BIO: Liam NEESON, born circa 1942, is a native of Ballymena, Co. Armagh. Standing at 6 ft. 4 in., his physical stature mirrors a career of greatness with his acting excellence. Neeson originally came to Hollywood on a whirlwind tour, spending the first few weeks on a couch at his agent's home, vowing that if he didn't make it before his money ran out, it was back to his old haunts in London. Neeson got enough work to stretch both his dollar and his stay - playing a mute street urchin accused of murder in "Suspect" (1987), and as the disfigured scientist bent on revenge in "Darkman" (1990). By the time the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences nominated him for best actor in the haunting "Schindler's List," Neeson's financial worries were squarely behind him. Since playing Oscar Schindler, Neeson has had his pick of film roles and has continued to work behind the scenes for peace in Ireland, which has been extremely important to him. Among those roles closest ! to his heart was "Michael COLLINS," Neil Jordan's 1996 historical account of the Irish revolutionary and IRA founder. Current projects in 1998 were to include playing Oscar WILDE in "The Judas Kiss" on Broadway, and a coveted role in George Lucas's "Star Wars" sequel. One of Neeson's latest movies was the film adaptation of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables." In 1998, Neeson was a resident of Manhattan with his actress-wife Natasha Richardson. The handsome actor has been active in Irish charity circles, notably as a spokesman for the events of the American Ireland Fund. -- Excerpt, "The World of Hibernia" Summer 1998

BIO: Liam NEESON, born circa 1942, is a native of Ballymena, Co. Armagh. Standing at 6 ft. 4 in., his physical stature mirrors a career of greatness with his acting excellence. Neeson originally came to Hollywood on a whirlwind tour, spending the first few weeks on a couch at his agent's home, vowing that if he didn't make it before his money ran out, it was back to his old haunts in London. Neeson got enough work to stretch both his dollar and his stay - playing a mute street urchin accused of murder in "Suspect" (1987), and as the disfigured scientist bent on revenge in "Darkman" (1990). By the time the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences nominated him for best actor in the haunting "Schindler's List," Neeson's financial worries were squarely behind him. Since playing Oscar Schindler, Neeson has had his pick of film roles and has continued to work behind the scenes for peace in Ireland, which has been extremely important to him. Among those roles closest ! to his heart was "Michael COLLINS," Neil Jordan's 1996 historical account of the Irish revolutionary and IRA founder. Current projects in 1998 were to include playing Oscar WILDE in "The Judas Kiss" on Broadway, and a coveted role in George Lucas's "Star Wars" sequel. One of Neeson's latest movies was the film adaptation of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables." In 1998, Neeson was a resident of Manhattan with his actress-wife Natasha Richardson. The handsome actor has been active in Irish charity circles, notably as a spokesman for the events of the American Ireland Fund. -- Excerpt, "The World of Hibernia" Summer 1998

BIO: John Augustin DALY ( 1839-99) was one of America's most successful and influential theater managers and dramatists. Born in Plymouth, North Carolina, he moved to NYC in the 1850s and worked as a drama critic for several New York newspapers. Drawing on his knowledge of several languages, he translated and adapted many plays from French and German. His debut as manager came in 1867 with the production of the melodrama "Under the Gaslight." Success in that and other ventures allowed him to open his first theater in 1869. When it burned down, he established a new one named Daly's Theatre. Daly earned critical and popular praise for his noted productions of Shakespearean comedies and other original works of serious drama. Augustin Daly continued to write and at the time of his death he had written more than 90 plays. It should be noted that the celebrated Irish-born actress under Daly's tutelage, Ada REHAN, had actually been born with the surname CREHAN. Ada (1850-1916), who emigrated to New York took the stage name of Rehan only as the result of a printing error in her debut performance in Newark, NJ. A Shakespearean actress who worked with Augustin DALY's New York theater company from 1879 to 1899, she was the company's leading woman and performed memorable comedic roles in addition to successful serious performances. Her last performance was a benefit in the New York Met in 1905

Hello Listers, I'm looking for any information or leads on an Oliver CALDWELL, born 1725 in Ireland and married 1) Ann Caldwell. With Ann he had two sons John & Joseph. I believe Ann to be Oliver's cousin. I believe at least Joseph was born in Ireland. Oliver married 2) Isabella Cook 2 Apr 1783 in Campbell Co, VA. I'm not sure if Ann died in Ireland or USA. Information shows they immigrated to USA in 1751. Oliver was a tanner by trade. His sons belonged to a Methodist church in Kentucky were they settled. Laura Lamb llamb@evansville.net

I am new to this list & have never searched records in Ireland before. I am looking for any information I can find on an ADAM BRYSON B 1798, somewhere in Ireland. He married a JANE STUART/STEWART, born 1803, County of ANTRIM. They were married 1825, BALLYMENA,IRELAND. Any leads or suggestions will be greatly appreciated. Regards Jim Galley,Parry Sound,Ontario,Canada.

BIO: Remarkable Anne SULLIVAN was to give Helen Keller her cheerful spirit and perseverance as well as teaching her Braille and guiding her to understandable speech. (See Ms. Keller's letter below). Their relationship is explored in the extraordinary film, "The Miracle Worker." Afflicted with poor sight herself, teacher Anne Sullivan (1866-1936), daughter of immigrants from Co. Limerick, arrived from Boston to meet the extremely wild and unruly 7-year-old Helen Adams Keller (1880-1968) to help her conquer her physical handicaps. A serious illness, which was diagnosed as brain fever, had destroyed Helen's sight and hearing before she was two, leaving the beautiful little girl unable to communicate with others. (Helen was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama). Anne Sullivan was able to make contact with the girl's mind through the sense of touch. She worked out an alphabet of sorts by which she spelled out words on Helen's hand. Gradually, the child was able to connect words! with objects. Helen also "listened" to others speak by putting her middle finger on the speaker's nose, forefinger on the lips, and thumb on the larynx. Helen learned to speak herself and by the time she was 16, she could speak well enough to go to preparatory school and to Radcliffe college, from which she was graduated in 1904 with honors. Anne Sullivan stayed with Helen through these years, interpreting lectures and class discussions to her. The two women remained companions even after Sullivan married John A. MACY. When Anne died, Mary Agnes "Polly" THOMSON (1885-1950), who had been Miss Keller's secretary, took her place. After college, Helen Keller became concerned with the conditions of the blind and deaf-blind and became active on the staffs of the American Foundation for the Blind and of the American Foundation for Overseas Blind. She appeared before legislatures, gave lectures, and wrote books (including autobiographies) and articles and traveled to 25 countries promoting better conditions for the handicapped. During WWII, Helen worked for soldiers who had been blinded in the war and received many honors from governments all over the world. Helen wrote a letter to an acquaintance in November of 1935 describing her meetings with two renowned operatic tenors - John McCORMACK (1884-1945), and Enrico CARUSO (1873-1921) and "hearing" them sing by feeling the vibrations of their voices. Excerpts from letter -- "Once we happened to be at the hotel where McCormack was staying. His publicity man arranged to have him sing "My Wild Irish Rose" for me. A number of the singer's friends and ours were gathered in the sitting-room for the performance. I was all expectation and excitement. My fingers were on his lips, but no sound came from them for several seconds. Then he cried, "I can't, I can't" his tears wet my hand, and turning away he ran into his bedroom. I loved him for that tenderness which seemed to me the flower of the Irish heart. How different Caruso was when we met under similar circumstances! ... When I entered his room, Caruso was being shaved. A pretty girl was manicuring his nails... "Ah! you have! come," Caruso said, and seized my two hands and clapped them on his great chest, which was bare, and with almost terrifying intensity burst into Samson's lament over his blindness. I never dreamed that a human chest could expand as his did, nor that a throat could emit such a volume of sound. ....To come back to "My Wild Irish Rose," I love it because I remember my teacher as a wild Irish rose when she came to me. It is no hyperbole to say that when I touched that rose, happiness skipped to my side. The wild-rose tells a wondrous story in my life of growth and beauty. Its perfume is the fragrance of God's Goodness and of a Love that passeth knowledge... Helen"

FAIRY SONG from The Land Of Heart's Desire The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart And the lonely of heart is withered away, While the faeries dance in a place apart, Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, Tossing their milk-white arms in the air; For they hear the wind laugh, and murmur and sing Of a land where even the old are fair, And even the wise are merry of tongue; But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, "When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, The lonely of heart is withered away!" -- William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

BIO: In 1891 an Irish-language enthusiastic and poet named Douglas HYDE visited NY's Gaelic societies. Impressed with their effective promotion of Irish language and culture, he returned to Ireland and in 1893 helped establish the Gaelic League and served as its first president. It was dedicated to not simply to preserving the Irish language, but to reestablishing it as a living language, both spoken and written. By 1903 there were 500 League branches established in Ireland. They held Irish-language classes, performances and events. In 1899 it led the fight to block the removal of Irish from the curriculum at Trinity College in Dublin. Ten years later it succeeded in making Irish a compulsory subject at the National University of Ireland. Many prominent writers were profoundly influenced by this language movement, such as William Butler YEATS. Initially the League was nonpolitical and enjoyed support from Protestants and unionists. But as the nationalist movement i! ntensified, the political undertones of the language movement became clearer in the early 20th century as the nationalist movement intensified. The fact that one of the primary founders of the League, Eoin MacNEILL, would later become commander-in-chief of the Irish Volunteers illustrated the strong connection between cultural and political nationalism. By 1915 IRB influence in the Gaelic League was significant and many members participated in the East Rising of 1916. The British government outlawed the organization in 1919. Douglas HYDE stressed the importance of the Irish language: "In order to de-Anglicize ourselves, we must at once arrest the decay of the language. We must bring pressure upon our politicians not to snuff it out by their racist discouragement merely because they do not themselves understand it. We must arouse some spark of patriotic inspiration among the peasantry who still use the language, and put an end to that shameful state of feeling -- a thousand-tongued reproach to our leaders and statesmen - which makes young man and women blush and hang their heads when overhead speaking their own language!" Excerpt, "1001 Things Everyone Should know about the Irish American History," Edward T. O'Donnell (2002).

Snippet -- One Irishman who almost played a pivotal role in the American Revolution was Sgt. Thomas HICKEY. In the summer of 1776, as the British prepared to invade New York, Hickey hatched a plot to assassinate General George Washington. His motivation seems to have been sheer practicality. He correctly believed that Washington's army in NY would be swept aside by the far superior British forces, but incorrectly believed that the war would end soon thereafter. When the plot was exposed, Hickey was arrested along with another soldier, Private Michael LYNCH. Lynch was acquitted, but Hickey was convicted of mutiny and sedition and hanged on the Bowery Road before a crowd of thousands.

WISHES FOR WILLIAM These things I wish you for our friendship's sake -- A sunburnt thatch, a door to face the sun At westering, the noise of homing rooks; A kind, old lazy chair, a courtly cat To rub against your knees; Shelves of well-chosen books; I wish you these. I wish you friends whose wisdom makes them kind, Well-leisured friends to share your evening's peace, Friends who can season knowledge with a laugh; A hedge of lavender, a patch of thyme, With sage and marjoram and rosemary, A damask rosebush and a hive of bees, And cabbages that hold the morning dew, A blackbird in the orchard boughs - all these, And -- God bless you. Children, no matter whose, to watch for you With flower faces at your garden gate, And one to watch the clock with eager eyes, Saying: "He's late -- he's late." -- Winifred M. Letts (born 1882)

BIO: "For me this was the moment of a lifetime, the end of a long search for our lost family in Ireland and with the touch of our hands, the old clan connection was retied He was the last living Devlin male from our family in Ireland and I was the last living Devlin male of purely Irish heritage in America," wrote Richard E. Devlin in a piece in "Irish Roots" magazine #3 (1999). I was able only to go so far with resources in America, but when I turned to the Ulster Historical Foundation and the Public Record Office in Belfast and the Irish World Heritage Center in Dungannon, matters began to fall into place quickly. After years of fierce fighting against the English, Hugh O'Neill, chieftain of the Tyrone clans, know as the Red Hand of Ulster, and next to him, young Rory O'Donnell, chief of the Donegal clans, were the last two Irish chieftains in possession of their hereditary lands. Their fleeing into exile on a legendary voyage known as the "Flight of the Earls" was one of the darkest moments in the long history of Irish resistance to English domination. Left behind to face the fury of the English were the smaller clans that were allied with the O'Neills and one of the most prominent of these were the O'Devlins. Nearly 400 years later, on a sunny day in April in the green hilly country of south Tyrone, I knocked on the door of a small pensioner's cottage in the village of Galbally, just to the west of the market town of Dungannon." (A lady up at the market next to the church had directed him to her door). She looked at me closely and with a small smile on her face said, "Well I guess I should know about the Devlins, my mother married George Devlin." I could hardly believe what my ears had just heard. After searching for hours in countless visits to libraries, federal archives and two trips the Mormon FHC in Utah, probing endlessly the fading memories of the remaining older family members, which had provided tantalizing clues, here in front of me was a sprightly, somewhat pixie-like old woman dressed neatly in a navy blue skirt and a matching cardigan sweater telling me that her mother's second marriage was to a man name George Devlin, the grandson of the brother of my gggrandfat! her! Her name was Susan Duggan (a Donnelly by birth) and she was 80 years old, mother of eight, grandmother of 32, born in the townland of Altaglushin. They had lived on a farm next to the Devlins all of their lives. She took my wife and I up to the nearby Galbally Church known to the locals as Cross and into the small cemetery around it and showed us George Devlin's gravesite (her stepfather), then lead us round to the southerly side and pointed out the main Devlin gravesite with its stone surround and two high Celtic crosses. Scraping away the mosses and lichens on the base of the largest cross revealed the grand old names in my family - John, James, Francis, and John Francis. For me, who had just lost my brother in Massachusetts, John Francis Devlin, this was more than a little overwhelming. In the distance...was Crocknavarac, the Hill of Tombs, the burial place of the old clans in the dark period. It was a very powerful moment. We went across the countryside to ! the townland of Altaglushin, a place not easily found by a stranger, directly to a hillside overlooking the old Devlin lands described in the 1851 Griffith's Valuation as "Francis, James and John, tenants; one lot of 137 acres, house, offices and land." She pointed out the busy farm house and outbuildings on the hilltop as the last remaining Devlin house on that tract, now belonging to the Nugent family, and places in the lower fields where other Devlin cottages had been in years gone by. One belonged to Ellen Devlin who had told the future in tea leaves, one belonging to Paddy and Charlie Devlin, well-known as ballad singers who could "sing from dark to daybreak without singing the same song twice." Susan said, "Now let's go and see George Devlin, he lives nearby." Off we went over the bogs and heathery moor, ending up in a small farmyard with a tiny cottage and a few small barns, near the village of Carrickmore. I tapped on the door and when an elderly but sturdy-looking man opened it, I knew at a glance that he was of our family. I took his hand and for me this was the moment of a lifetime." Excerpts -- Full article and photo of George Devlin (82) from Carrickmore, and Dick Devlin from Kingston, NH, USA can be found in that issue.

THE LOVE-TALKER I met the Love-Talker one eve in the glen, He was handsomer than any of our handsome young men, His eyes were blacker than the sloe, his voice sweeter far Than the crooning of old Kevin's pipes beyond in Coolnagar. I was bound for the milking with a heart fair and free -- My grief! my grief! that bitter hour drained the life from me; I thought him human lover, though his lips on mine were cold, And the breath of death blew keen on me within his hold. I know not what way he came, no shadow fell behind, But all the sighing rushes swayed beneath a fairy wind; The thrush ceased its singing, a mist crept about, We two clung together -- the world shut out. Beyond the ghostly mist I could hear my cattle low, The little cow from Ballina, clean as driven snow, The dun cow from Kerry, the roan from Inisheer, Oh, pitiful their calling -- and his whispers in my ear! His eyes were a fire; his words were a snare; I cried my mother's name, but no help was there; I made the blessed Sign -- then he gave a dreary moan, A wisp of cloud went floating by, and I stood alone. Running ever thro' my head is an old-time ruine -- "Who meets the Love-Talker must weave her shroud soon." My mother's face is furrowed with the salt tears that fall, But the kind eyes of my father are the saddest sight of all. I have spun the fleecy lint and now my wheel is still, The linen length is woven for my shroud fine and chill, I shall stretch me on the bed where a happy maid I lay -- Pray for the soul of Maire Og at dawning of the day! -- Ethna Carbery (1866-1902)

Hi list, Was wondering if anyone on the list might have run across the family name of McQUE from County Cavan? Do not know the parents name but I have a daughter (? other children) by the name of Mary McQue. Born probably around 1850/1860. Between that time and about 1870, the family immigrated to Canada, Ontario Province. Have not been able to find any immigration information as of yet, such as, what ship did they cross on. Thanx for any information anybody can provide, no matter how small. Cindy Mississippi Gulf Coast

Conclusion: ...."Comfortably situated during the summer, their situation in winter is most desolate, being secluded from all intercourse with the main, their small boats not being able to live in that most boisterous ocean, the fury of which is such, that we were shown on the high western shore a stone four feet long and three thick every way, which the force of the billows had risen from below (two years ago) and carried to the top of the island a height of at least 100 feet. During this season they live upon dry or salted fish, potatoes, milk and then and now upon a sheep which is killed and divided among them. They are all of the Roman Catholic religion. They appear devout, kneeling or bowing to all places which they hold as sanctified, but superstitious and credulous to the highest degree. On my enquiries how they would do, if a priest was wanting during the winter season for some ceremony, which absolutely required one, our conductor answered me gravely, that in t! hat case any one of them went to the seaside and launched his boat, which as soon as she had touched the water, the sea would become calm, and the wind cease, until the boat had brought the priest to island, back to the main and was returned and hauled on shore, that then the tempest would rage again and continue as violent as before. I was tempted to ask him if this miracle had been done in his time, but reflecting on the mortifcation my question might occasion him, I though it would be ill repaying his trouble and hospitality towars us, so that I did not put my query to him. We observed also to us, that they had neither priest, lawyer or physician, they were devout, just and healthy, of which we were in no doubt; to conclude the characters of the inhabitants, they refuse all payments from their visitors for whatever treatment they have given them and on our landing they were going to kill a sheep to entertain us, our servants and crew, if Mr. Irwin had not prevented them! by showing them our provisions, which were in plenty more than we could consume. To give you a complete idea of the goodness of the heart of those islanders, I shall mention the manner of our departure, which I think is but doing justice to their hospitality and benevolence. Having finished our drawings and observations we adjourned to our eating barn where, amongst the plenty of provisions Coll. Irwin had brought, the good people had added quantity of fresh fish, particularly excellent lobsters; notice was given that after dinner, we should depart, and after our repast, on quitting the barn, we found all the inhabitants children included standing at the door with grief painted in their countenances, we walked slowly to the harbour followed by all; where being arrived Mr. Irwin made them sit on the grass in semi-circular form, and opening a portmanteau distributed presents consisting in ribbons, roll tobacco, and beads; after which his servant broached a small cask of whi! skey, which was served round to the company, who drank to our health wishing us a thousand blessings. The ceremony embracing the females was renewed who returned the compliment with tears in their eyes, and with so much affection, it it seemed as if we were their nearest relations who parted never to return. We shook hands with the men who seemed not less concerned and we walked to the harbour and embarked, whilst the people spread themselves on the piers, uttering blessings, as soon as we unmoored, we saluted them with cheers which were answered from the shore, and both sides continued waving hands until out of sight. There was something so affecting in all this, that for a long time we continued in thoughtful silence, out of which we were roused on entering Sligo Bay, by our vessel striking on a bank, our crew consisting of five men, the Captain included, having found means to broach the whiskey cask unknown to us, the liquor of which operating on their brains, rendered! them unable to do their business. We got out of it however by the help of poles, but running aground afterwards almost every five minutes Coll. Irwin was obliged, as it was already dark and for fear of accidents, to take the helm and steer us for Sligo; which he happily affected, and we arrived there at midnight. We observed during our navigation in the dark that phenomenon often menioned in descriptions of voyages namely the luminous wake of our vessel, and the fiery flashes, occasioned by every stroke of our oars, which are thought to be occasioned by quantities of luminous sea insects . If it is so, Sligo bay abounds with them. I have the honour to be Sir, Your Most obedient and most obliged Servt., Gabriel Beranger, Dublin 26th May 1785, To Coll. Chs. Vallancey." Note, Two individuals - Martin Heraghty (king of the island) and a Mr. Waters, young men in 1900, may well have participated in one of the island's major activities at that time, the making of what the inhabitants called whiskey (never called "poteen" on Inishmurray). In 1946, the machinery necessary for the delicious, illicit liquor came from the copper "worm" to the "flake," a large barrel connected to the worm where it cooled before going through the "tundish" into a keg or cask which, needless to add, it didn't stay long.

CO. SLIGO: Inishmurray Island lies 4 miles (6 km) of Streedaugh Point. It is a long island, low-lying and bleak. It contains substantial ruins of St. Molaise's monastery, plundered by Vikings in 807. There are memorials, wells, 11 stations dotted around the island which was abandoned in circa 1947-48 when the 50 inhabitants moved to the mainland as population had fallen to the point where there were insufficent able-bodied men to handle the relatively large boats necessary to the island. Each boat carried a bottle of Holy Water on the inner prow, but on putting out to sea the crew and passengers dipped their fingers in the sea and blessed themselves with the sea water. Access to the island apparently includes Mullaghmore and Rosses Point. The early Christian monuments on Inishmurray acted like a magnet on the early "antiquarians" who were beginning to rediscover ancient Ireland's glories in the 18th century. One of these was Gabriel Beranger (c.1730-1817) , who was one of a party of people who landed on the island in 1779. A letter regarding same written by Mr. Beranger to Chas. Vallancey six years later has survived. 26 May, 1785: Sir, According to your desire, here follows the history of my trip to Inishmurray, with the description of that island, its inhabitants and its antiquities. On the 24th of June 1779 we embarked in the Bay of Sligo about 3 o'clock, with Lewis Irwin of Tonregoe Esqr., and as the wind was contrary we were obliged to make several tacks, so that we did not reach the island until nine in the evening. We landed in a small and narrow harbour, the only one in the place where a vessel of the size of ours could ride in safety, having on each side rocks jutting out in the sea, which at first sight I took for the work of men, and though I was assured of the contrary, I cannot but think, considering its regularity, that it is nature improved. The inhabitants seeing us make towards them were collected on the shore and received us with open arms, and being warned by Mr. Irwin to imitate him, we followed his example and embraced the females, who return the civility with as ! much cordiality as if we had been their nearest relations. We were immediately conducted to one of thir houses w(h)ere we stand until a large barn was prepared and some deal tables fixed together on which the cloth was laid and there we went to eat our supper whch consisted in various sorts of fresh fish broiled and plenty of lobsters for des(s)ert. We did not want liquor, Mr. Irwin having provided wine, spirits and porter. Our illumination consisted in four rushes dipped in grease put in as many old Irish wooden candle sticks of above two feet high, intended to serve only on the ground, which not showing light enough when standing on the table, we contrived to fix on stools between us, which with the oddity of our situation, the remarks and the gaiety of the company, made us spend the evening in merriment and satisfaction; after supper we were conducted to another barn where we found clean straws spread on the ground over which four chaff beds were laid, with clean coars! e sheets, on which Mr. Irwin his son, Mr. Bigary (Angelo Maria Bigari, an Italian artist who accompanied the party), and I, laid ourselves down, after which the door was shut and every crevice or opening stopped with straw on the outside by the islanders, to keep out the air. They then returned to the eating barn to finish the remains of our supper with our interpreter, Mr. Irwin's servant and the crew of one barge. We got up at five next morning and walked round the island examining the shore which we performed easily in three-quarters of an hour; we then began our operations by taking the plans of its antiquities, went to breakfast and returned to make the drawings until 3 o'clock. Inishmurray is an island of the Atlantic Ocean situated about nine miles distance west of the shore of the County of Sligo. The western side is bold and rocky and appeared to me on looking down more than a hundred feet above the level of the sea. Some of the rocks projecting like capes are ! perforated in the form of hugh arches through which the sea foams continually, even in the calmest days, and must appear if it could be beheld from below in tempestuous weather most romatic and picturesque; the eastern side has not that grand appearance, as the rock on which the island is composed goes shelving down on that side in almost regular stems to the edge of the water where the little children walk down with ease to wash themselves or to swim. About 130 acres of the surface is covered with a thin soil five or six inches deep, and produces grass enough to feed five cows as many horses and thirty sheep, all the arable produce about twenty barrels of corn, besides potatoes and garden stuff. The colony at that time consisted of forty-five children included, which compose five families inhabiting as many houses. They have besides five large buildings, who serve as barns, stables and stores. The males are all fisherman and they sell their cargoes on the main. They in! termarry among themselves and have inhabited the island in succession these five or six hundred year (as they told us) when they find themselves overstocked they send their children, when able, to the main to provide for themselves, who do not return but on visits to their parents, or to take possession of an inheritance. All of the inhabitants look neat and decent, the men having good coats or jackets, and most of the women wearing cotton or linen gowns, their houses within are clean, and though not overstocked with furniture, the tables, benches and stools are whole and entire and it seemed to me that this people are blessed with all the necessities of life and that their wishes do not extent on the superfluities of it." -- to be continued.

MUTE MOMENTS AT DRUMSNA Swanning up and down The quiet waters Year after year With a regal air Such a habitual pair Wild yet tame Wet yet dry Necks alertly held On high Perfect Parents Permanent Pair Seven cygnets Brown & Grey On turning white they Fly away But the old ones always stay They have an obvious sense Of place In a changing world Why does it feel so good To see them every evening Heading homeward together. "M. R."-- "Leitrim Guardian"

LATE SEPTEMBER Two grey horses in a wet field, All bony legs and raindark hides, Cold grey lake behind, the grey sky above, The very grasses and rushes grey, The bare trees weeping wet bark All wrapped and veiled in timeless rain. I smell the winter coming. -- Nina Havers, "The Leitrim Guardian"

BIO: Robert WATSON, an inveterate hunter, believed that he would be born as a fox in his next reincarnation, so he built for himself a mausoleum containing tunnels in which a fox could safely hide from the hounds and decreed that never again should hunting be permitted on his lands! Larchill farm in Co. Kildare, was transformed in the 18th century where the normal activities of the farm took place in surroundings of classical beauty, and Michael and Louisa DE LAS CASAS, who moved there nearly 10 years ago, have accomplished a small miracle by lovingly bringing the beautiful gardens back to life after a century and a half of neglect. Many lovely color photos of Larchill can be found in the July-August 2002 issue of "Ireland of the Welcomes." In the 18th century a Dublin haberdasher by the name of PRENTICE set to work to transform 65 acres of pasture to a garden of delights at Larchill, embellished with statuary, trees, flower-beds, buildings and even a lake. (The neighboring estate of Dangan, was later to be the birthplace of the Duke of Wellington). Work began at Larchill in the 1740s. The undertaking included many months of digging to make a large lake and a series of canals and garden ornaments on a large scale known as "follies" were built -- temples, fortresses and castles. Groups of trees were carefully planted to frame each particular vista. The fortunes of the PRENTICEs dwindled in the 1760s and thereafter the property was leased. The present house was built in the 1780s and the WATSON family came in 1790. The last of the WATSONs left in the middle of the 19th century and that was the end of the days of the maintenance of the garden. (It is unknown whether the soul of Robert WATSON was indeed bor! n again in the body of a fox.) An old shell tower presents visitors to the farm with a lovely view down to the lake (and away to the tall spire of J. J. McCARTHY 's 1840s Chapel at St. Patrick's College, Maynooth) with its remaining lovely old gold geometric-patterned windows and walls beautifully decorated with a variety of sea-shells. The present owners , the de las Casas, have not only brought their historically-important and charming country residence back to life, and share it with others (daily afternoons/early evening May to September, other times by appointment) but they have filled their huge farmyard with "follies" of their own creation with an interesting collection of rare and exotic animals. Larchill Arcadian Garden Kilcock, Co. Kildare E-mail: delascas@indigo.ie

Brian Gallagher recalls - "My uncle was 53 when he and the young family emigrated to NY from a hungry mountainside in North Leitrim. He had left it too late. They said that at the foot of the aeroplane steps he stopped and made an attempt to go back. Along with the good navy blue suit, the shirt with detachable collars, the box of collar studs and the pair of light boots, he had packed his fiddle and bow, lovingly wrapped in sheets of newspaper. But he never played it in America and it stayed in a bottom drawer in yellowing sheets of "The Leitrim Observer." His letters were all about home with never a mention of his new life, and always, always he wanted to know what was the price of black cattle in Collooney Fair. On the one occasion he came back, he made his way to the house where my father and he were reared and with a pliers he pulled from the wall the nail on which he used to hang his fiddle. He brought it back to his NY home, hammered it into the wall there and that night, he played "The Boys of Ballisodare" and hung his fiddle on it again. I went back to North Leitrim a few years ago to visit the old house. I had been there once before as a child with my father. Now I carried my own son on my shoulders. Round a bend up a steep lane I suddenly came face to face with an old man coming down. He stopped and looked at me and said, 'Eddie!' 'That was my father name,' I said. 'Well if your father was made young again, that's him walking up the lane.' He spoke in that courtly way you only find in country places and he turned to walk back a bit with me and show me the way . He kept looking at me as if he couldn't believe his eyes. 'Would there be any chance that you would come back and do up the house,' he said, 'I would love to see someone above me on the mountain. There was smoke from all those chimneys,' he said, pointing out the ruined houses on the mountain face. 'I rambled in every one of those houses but they're all gone now.' 'Did you ever think of going away yourself,' I asked. 'I was never further than Collooney Fair,' he said, 'Never further than the fair of Collooney'. 'What about your family,' I said. 'I have a son in Philadelphia,' he said. 'I was out ot see him last year. I have another son in Los Angeles. I went out to see him the year before. It's on the far side of America. The lane's bad but it's dry underfoot. Mind the little fellow.' Gentle regular undulations of the grass were all that marked where my uncle's garden of brown sharp-edged ridges had been. Nettles and brambles were growing up to the open doorway. The boy wrinkled his nose at the smell of the calves in the kitchen. And through the broken window I could still see the nail hole in the wall and the track of the pliers in the flaking pink distemper. When I had seen enough, I turned to go. The old man was waiting for me at the gap in the hedge . He had a paper bag in his hands, and there was something he wanted to say. 'You see, I never cut a sod in America,' he said, 'so it didn't count. It was only socialising. There's some apples for the boy. My two lads always liked them. You were always a fine big man, Eddie,' and he was gone through the gap in the hedge. I didn't know if he was sane or mad. It was an unsettling conversation. In the car, when I opened the bag, the apples had hard cracked skin and black spots from years of neglect, but the flesh inside was sweet and wholesome. As I looked at them, I realized that the old man had not spoken to me at all. He had been talking to a ghost, the ghost of a long-dead neighbour he had met walking up a line in Leitrim." -- Excerpt, "The Leitrim Guardian"

THE EMIGRANT IRISH Like oil lamps, we put them out back -- of our houses, of our minds. We had lights better than, newer than and then a time came, this time and now we need them. Their dread, makeshift example: they would have thrived on our necessities. What they survived we could not even live. By their lights now it is time to imagine how they stood there, what they stood with, that their possessions may become our power: Cardboad. Iron. Their hardships parceled in them. Patience. Fortitude. Long-suffering in the bruise-colored dusk of the New World. And all the old songs. And nothing to lose. -- Ms. Eavan Boland, 1987, "An Origin Like Water: Collected Poems 1967-1987," W W. Norton & Co.