THE WOMAN OF THE HOUSE (In memory of his grandmother Lucy Mary Ormsby whose home was in the west of Ireland 1873-1958). On a patrician evening in Ireland I was born in the guest-room: she delivered me. May I deliver her from the cold hand Where now she lies, with a brief elegy? It was her house where we spent holidays, With candles to bed, and ghostly stories: In the lake of her heart we were islands Where the wild asses galloped in the wind. Her mind was a vague and log-warmed yarn Spun between sleep and acts of kindliness: She fed our feelings as dew feeds the grass On April nights, and our mornings were green: And those happy days, when in spite of rain We'd motor west where the salmon-boats tossed, She would sketch on the pier among the pots Waves in a sunset, or the rising moon. Indian-meal porridge and brown soda-bread, Boiled eggs and buttermilk, honey from gorse, Far more than we wanted she always offered In a heart-surfeit; she ate little herself. Mistress of mossy acres and unpaid rent, She crossed the walls on foot to feed the sick: Though frugal cousins frowned on all she spent People had faith in her healing talent. She bandaged the wounds that poverty caused In the house that famine labourers built, Gave her hands to cure impossible wrong In a useless way, and was loved for it. Hers were the fruits of a family tree: A china clock, the Church's calendar, Gardeners polite, governesses plenty, And incomes waiting to be married for. How the feckless fun would flicker her face Reading our future by cards at the fire, Rings and elopements, love-letters, old lace, A signet of jokes to seal our desire. "It was sad about Maud, poor Maud!" she'd sigh, To think of a friend she lured and teased Till she married the butler. "Starved to death, No service either by padre or priest." Cholera raged in the Residency; "They kept my uncle alive on port." Which saved him to slaughter a few sepoys And retire to Galway in search of sport. The pistol that lost an ancestor's duel, The hoof of the horse that carried him home To be stretched on chairs in the drawing-room, Hung by the Rangoon prints and the Crimean medal. Lever and Lover, Somerville and Ross Have fed the same worm as Blackstone and Gibbon, The mildew has spotted "Clarissa"'s spine And soiled the "Despatches of Wellington." Beside her bed lay an old Bible that Her Colonel Rector husband used to read, And a new "Writers' and Artists' Year-book" To bring a never-printed girlhood back. The undeveloped thoughts died in her head, But from her heart, through the people she loved Images spread, and intuitions lived, More than the mere sense of what she said. At last, her warmth made ashes of the trees Ancestors planted, and she was removed To hospital to die there, certified. Her house, but not her kindness, has found heirs. Compulsory comforts penned her limping soul: With all she uttered they smiled and agreed. When she summoned the chauffeur, no one obeyed, But a chrome hearse was ready for nightfall. "Order the car for nine o'clock tonight! I must get back, get back. They're expecting me. I'll bring the spiced beef and the nuts and fruit. Come home and I'll brew you lime-flower tea!" "The house in flames and nothing is insured! Send for the doctor, let the horses go. The dogs are barking again. Has the cow Calved in the night? What is that great singed bird?" "I don't know who you are, but you've kind eyes. My children are abroad and I'm alone. They left me in this gaol. You all tell lies. You're not my people. My people have gone." Now she's spent everything: the golden waste Is washed away, silent her heart's hammer. The children overseas no longer need her, They are like aftergrass to her harvest. People she loved were those who worked the land Whom the land satisfied more than wisdom: They've gone, a tractor ploughs where horses strained. Sometimes sheep occupy their roofless room. Through our inheritance all things have come, The form, the means, all by our family: The good of being alive was given through them, We ourselves limit that legacy. The bards in their beds once beat our ballads Under leaky thatch listening to sea-birds, But she in the long ascendancy of rain Served biscuits on a tray with ginger wine. Time can never relax like this again, She in her phaeton looking for folk-lore, He writing sermons in the library Till lunch, then fishing all the afternoon. On a wet winter evening in Ireland I let go her hand, and we buried her In the family earth beside her husband Only to think of her, now warms my mind. -- Richard Murphy

I am searching for Beegan's and Doran's who came to the US around 1850'ish. I beleive that the Beegan's came from Armagh and that the Doran's came from Fermanagh. Names that I have are Frank Beegan and wife Mary Ann Doran. The Doran's that I have from the 1860 census in New York are John and Michael and Bridget and Ellen. I think that Ellen and John could be husband and wife!

Is there a mailing list that directly deals with the county of Armagh? I know that it is in Northren Ireland, but I would like more informaition on it! THanks kindly, liz

Anthony Raftery was a half-blind poet and the woman in the untitle, translated poem is Mary Hynes. Mary is said to have been a real woman who always wore white and was so fair that people would come from all parts of Ireland just to get a glimpse of her. Mary "died young before the famine from fever," around 1839. Going to Mass by the will of God, The day came wet and the wind rose; I met Mary Hynes at the cross of Kiltartan, And I fell in love with her then and there. I spoke to her kind and mannerly, As by report was her own way; And she said, "Raftery, my mind is easy, You can come to-day to Ballylee." When I heard her offer I did not linger, When her talk went to my heart my heart rose. We had only to go across the three fields, We had daylight with us to Ballylee. The table was laid with glasses and a quart measure, She had fair hair, and she was sitting beside me; And she said, "Drink, Raftery, and a hundred welcomes, There is a strong cellar in Ballylee." O star of light and O sun in harvest, O amber hair, O my share of the world, Will you come with me upon Sunday Till we agree together before all the people? I would not grudge you a song every Sunday evening, Punch on the table, or wine if you would drink it, But, O king of Glory, dry the roads before me Till I find the way to Ballylee. There is sweet air on the side of the hill When you are looking down upon Ballylee; When you are walking in the valley picking nuts and blackberries, There is music of the birds in it and music of the Sidhe. What is the worth of greatness till you have the light Of the flower of the branch that is by your side? There is no god to deny it or to try and hide it, She is the sun in the heavens who wounded my heart. There was no part of Ireland I did not travel, >From the rivers to the tops of the mountains, To the edge of Lough Greine whose mouth is hidden, And I saw no beauty but was behind hers. Her face was shining, and her brows were shining too; Her face was like herself, her mouth pleasant and sweet. She is the pride, and I give her the branch, She is the shining flower of Ballylee. It is Mary Hynes, the calm and easy woman, Has beauty in her mind and in her face. If a hundred clerks were gathered together, They could not write down a half of her ways. -- Anthony Raftery (c. 1784-1835)

Wondering if anybody can recall seeing handheld scanner for sale recently aand if anybody knows if they are of use for our interests Regards Noel

Hi all, Anymore FREE look ups anyone? If I didn't answer your request then you were accidently deleted in the shuffle. Just resend it. If you don't have all the info, send me what you do have and I'll see what I can do. If it's too much then I'll let you know. Please read carefully... 1. Everyone alive, in the US by June 1st, 1880 is indexed. 2. You do not need an exact year of birth, the search allows for a 5 year difference either way. The year of birth could be different with each census. It is hardly ever accurate! The closer the better. 3. You do not have to tell me this but sometimes it lowers the hits if you don't have much info. What is the race? Black, White, Mulatto, Native American or Mexican? 4. Oklahoma Territory is not in the census. 5. Again...unless it's uncommon, I need a first and last name. 6. If you don't have much info then you can try giving me the names of a spouse and/or children that I might find on the 1880 census living with the person you're looking for. What you'll receive from me... 1. The name of the head of household and everyone living in it. 2. The relationship of everyone to the head of household. If the relationship is listed as other, then they are not related. 3. The age, race and sex of everyone. 4. The occupation of everyone. 5. The birth place of everyone and their parents. 6. Microfilm info. There is no limit on how many look ups you can request, I only ask that you limit it to 2 surnames per email. My website is coming back to life slowly but surely. You can check it out now or you can try agin in a day or 2 if it doesn't work. http://members.aol.com/ella12866/index.html Take care, Ella

Hello Liz, There is an Armagh City which is situated in Armagh county. You may wish to do a search using www.google.com. There are many websites to choose from. Good Irish luck to you, indeed. Regards. Joan. >From: Craig and Liz <amoseley@shaw.ca> >To: IrelandGenWeb-L@rootsweb.com >Subject: [IGW] where is ARMAH? >Date: Tue, 25 Jun 2002 09:46:21 -0700 > > Please, could someone tell me where Armah is? Is it the same as Armagh? I >am looking for information on a Francis Beegan who was born there in about >1832. THanks kindly, liz _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx

A CHRISTMAS CHILDHOOD One side of the potato-pits was white with frost - How wonderful that was, how wonderful! And when we put our ears to the paling-post The music that came out was magical. The light between the ricks of hay and straw Was a hole in Heaven's gable. An apple tree With its December-glinting fruit we saw - O you, Eve, were the world that tempted me To eat the knowledge that grew in clay And death the germ within it! Now and then I can remember something of the gay Garden that was childhood's. Again The tracks of cattle to the drinking-place, A green stone lying sideways in a ditch Or any common sight the transfigured face Of a beauty that the world did not touch. My father played the melodion Outside at our gate; There were stars in the morning east And they danced to his music. Across the wild bogs his melodion called To Lennons and Callans. As I pulled on my trousers in a hurry I knew some strange thing had happened. Outside in the cow-house my mother Made the music of milking; The light of her stable-lamp was a star And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle. A water-hen screeched in the bog, Mass-going feet Crunched the wafer-ice on the pot-holes, Somebody wistfully twisted the bellows wheel. My child poet picked out the letters On the grey stone, In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland, The winking glitter of a frosty dawn. Cassiopeia was over Cassidy's hanging hill, I looked and three whin bushes road across The horizon -- The Three Wise Kings. An old man passing said: "Can't he make it talk" -- The melodion. I hid in the doorway And tightened the belt of my box-pleated coat. I nicked six nicks on the door-post With my penknife's big blade -- There was a little one for cutting tobacco. And I was six Christmases of age. My father played the melodion, My mother milked the cows, And I had a prayer like a white rose pinned On the Virgin Mary's blouse. -- Patrick Kavanagh

Castlebar, Co. Mayo (1837) -- "It was market day at Castlebar when I arrived there, and I strolled for a couple of hours among the market people. Great numbers of women, holding a hank or two of yarn of their own spinning, stood in the streets and offered their trifling commodities for sale. Very few of those whom I addressed could speak English; but some of the men about, seeing the disadvantages under which I laboured, very obligingly stepped forward, and offered assistance as interpreters. This sort of politenes is common to the Irish. I ascertained that the women could not earn by spinning more than a penny or twopence a day, and hundreds of them attended the market whose earnings for the whole week did not exceed sixpence or ninepence; yet nothwithstanding this inadequate reward of long and hard labour, their honest countenances wore the habitual impress of cheerfulness and perfect good humour. Scarcely any of the women had shoes, and I felt considerable alarm wh! ile threading my way through a dense crowd, lest I should step upon their feet." -- Jonathan Binns, "Miseries and Beauties of Ireland," 1837

Co. Antrim (1829) -- "The town of Carrickfergus, at present, has a much better appearance than at any former period, and extends along the northern shore of that bay to which it gives name, nearly a mile. Within the walls the streets are generally narrow, and are called by the following names: High-street, Castle-street, West-street, North-street, Cheston's-street, or Butcher-row, Essex-street, Lancaster-street, Antrim-street, alias Gaol-lane, Church-lane, Back-lane, Governor's-place, and Joymount-court. The houses are built either of stone or brick, mostly of the former, and commonly slated; many of the best houses have been built within the last thirty years. A few still present an antique appearance: the greater part of these are bulilt in frames of oak, in that manner formerly called "Cadge-work." Some of them had originally windows that projected several feet into the adjoining street. That part of the town lying without the walls is called the Irish and Scotch quarters. The latter is on the east of the town, and its streets and rows are distinguished by the following names: Joymount-bank, Scotch-quarter, and the Green, alias Green-street. This quarter takes its name from a colony of fishers who arrived from Argyle and Gallowayshire, chiefly during the persecution in Scotland, about 1665; their descendants still retain their original calling. It is believed that the Irish quarter had its origin soon after. In November, 1678, we find the Duke of Ormond, then lord lieutenant of Ireland, and council, by their proclamation, ordering all Roman Catholics to remove without the walls of forts, cities and corporate towns; a few years after which we find the name Irish quarter noticed on our records, instead of that of West Suburb. The streets of this quarter are called Irish quarter south and west; their west ends are joined by a street called Brewery-lane, or Davy's street. A few houses a short distance from those places are dignified with names of Pound-lane and Tea-lane." -- Samuel McSkimin, "History of Carrickfergus, " 1829. .

THE SMALL TOWNS OF IRELAND O my small town of Ireland, the raindrops caress you, The sun sparkles bright on your field and your Square As here on your bridge I salute you and bless you, Your murmuring waters and turf-scented air. -- John Betjeman (pronounced BET jeh man) was born in London in 1906 and one of England's best-selling poets. His poetry is neither light nor completely serious. His best-known poems poke gentle fun at English pecularities, as in "In Westminster Abbey" - "Think of what our Nation stands for, Books from Boots' and country lanes, Free speech, free passes, class distinction, Democracy and proper drains." Occasionally, when dealing with relgion or the prospect of death, Betjeman shows himself more serious and compassionate. His collected poems were published in 1958. "Summoned By Bells" (1960) is his verse autobiography. An expert on architecture, Betjeman also wrote widely on that subject.

Hi Liz, You might want to see what a surname book has to say about your interesting Beegan surname, could help pin it down, but I think you are likely looking for Armagh Town in Co. Armagh. Other possibilities could include Armoy Town in Co. Antrim, Omagh in Co. Tyrone, and Arm in Co. Roscommon -- but my money would be on Armagh Town. You can find out more about these placenames (civil parishes, etc.) at IreAtlas: http://www.seanruad.com/ Jean ----- Original Message ----- > From: "Craig and Liz" <amoseley@shaw.ca> > To: <IrelandGenWeb-L@rootsweb.com> > Sent: Tuesday, June 25, 2002 9:46 AM > Subject: [IGW] where is ARMAH? > > > > Please, could someone tell me where Armah is? Is it the same as Armagh? I > am looking for information on a Francis Beegan who was born there in about > 1832. THanks kindly, liz >

Please, could someone tell me where Armah is? Is it the same as Armagh? I am looking for information on a Francis Beegan who was born there in about 1832. THanks kindly, liz

I have several lines all over Ireland: 1). James C. Ward was born 1840, got married to Elizabeth Hanlon 4/26/1865 in Collinstown, Westmeath. His parents were Hugh Ward and Elizabeth Carroll. Her parents were Edward and Catherine Hanlon. I have their marriage record, but nothing before that. I know James had a brother Michael and Elizabeth a sister Catherine. 2). Robert Davis was born in Donegal 4/27/1865 to Andrew Davis and Ann Bustard. They were married Mar.22 1856 at the Donegal Registry Office. They were both from the parish of Drumholm, he from Moyne, she from Ballykillowen. His father was John, her's was William. It was unknown in our family that Robert was not Catholic (his parents being born in the registry office seems to point to that. So, I would be particularly interested in any info about that. Thanks for any help or insight anyone might provide!

I am searching for information/connection on my ancestors who immigrated from Ireland, some migrated to Wales (Rhymney and Tredegar areas) and then to the Luzerne/Lackawanna Counties areas of North East PA. Many settled in the Old Forge, Minooka, Taylor areas of Scranton. PA. My GERRITY/GERAGHTY lines appear to have moved back and forth to Wisconsin, Carbondale and Scranton. My SULLIVAN line settled in the Taylor and Scranton area however many of the children were females and I am having troubles locating the SULLIVAN ladies as they married and moved away. SULLIVAN line were primarily miners while the GERRITY line were primarily railroaders. Patrick SULLIVAN married Ellen CUMMINGS 1863 in Bedwelty, Wales. The earliest members of the CUMMINGS branch were of Irish descent but born in Wales. Herewith are some of the surnames I am trying to research that started in and around Luzerne and Lackawanna Co. BLACK, BOLIVER, COLEMAN, CORBETT, COSTELLO, CROWE, CUMMINGS, DANTE, DAVIS, FALDUTO, FEENEY, FELTON, FORKIN, GABRIEL, GALLAGHER, GERRITY, GERAGHTY, GLYNN, GRIFFIN, GORMAN, JENKINS, JENNINGS, HART, LABER, LAFFEY, LAYDEN, LAVELLE, LYNCH, MC GREEVY, SHEA, SHIELDS, STAFFORD, STANTON, STEINHAUSER, SULLIVAN, TOMASETTI, WALTON, WEISS. Please contact me at Walton J. Sullivan at wsullivw@aol.com Paternal - SULLIVAN, COLEMAN, CUMMINGS, O'BRIEN, BARRY, BOLD, BLACK, BREE, CAFFREY, CAVENEY, CONE, CORBETT, CROWE, DISKIN, DONEGAN, FARRELL, FEE, FLAHERTY, FORKIN, GABRIEL, GORMAN, GERRITY, HART, HEALEY, HOLFORD, JENKINS, JENNINGS, KEARNEY, KENNEDY, LAW, LAWLER, LYNCH, MAHADY, MC ALOON, MC GREEVEY, O'CONNOR, O'MARA, O'MALLEY, ORMSBY, PHILBIN, ROLAND, SHEA, SHIELDS, SOUTHARD, STAFFORD, STANTON, STEINHAUSER, WALTON, WEISS, PA- Dunmore, Old Forge, Minooka, Taylor, Scranton, Hawley, Mt. Pleasant, Lacyville, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh; NY-Kingston, Rondout, Yonkers, Amsterdam: NJ-Union City, Jersey City, North Bergen http://www.familytreemaker.com/users/s/u/l/Walton--J-Sullivan/index.html http://worldconnect.rootsweb.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?db=wsullivw http://www.gencircles.com/users/wsullivw/1

Greetings of the day to all of you. This one has been collecting dust again. So, I thought now is the time to bring it back to life again. Do hope that SKS can help me with this little predicament that I am in at the moment. On the 1851 Channel Islands census index there is an Ann Haywood, age 62, born in U.S.A. She is living with her unmarried daughter Sarah, age 24, b. Ireland and unmarried son Thomas, age 22, b. England. On the 1861 Channel Islands census index Ann is living with another daughter, son-in-law and family and is listed as a widow. The daughter that Ann is living with is called Aley Alice Winnett Buttery (nee Heywood), age 37, and is listed as b. Ireland. Notice the difference in surname spelling. Would SKS have any information on Aley and Sarah during their time living in Ireland and also on Ann's husband? I have a suspicion that the name Aley is another form of Alice. As Aley was my g.grandmother, I would like to get a copy of her birth certificate. Needless to say I would appreciate knowing where she was born. Many thanks in appreciation. Regards. Joan. _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx

Hi. I am trying to find info. on my ancestor Celia Melay. I believe she was born abt. 1871 in Waterford Ireland. Her parents were James Melay and Ellen Welch. On her marriage record she is listed as "Bridget Maley". Every other record lists her maiden name as "Melay". She emigrated to Boston some time before she got married in 1892. My mother believes that she emigrated as a young woman by herself, not as a child with her family. I have had great difficulty finding any record of her in Waterford. Can anyone help?

Could anyone please help with a possible site/sites where I could search for Irish Births, Marriages & Deaths. I am trying to find a marriage date for my grandparents as well as a birth date for both. All I know is the year they were born.. I would really like to avoid the added charge of a search if I can look for myself. Smiles and best wishes from June Western Australia Searching for Whitfield, Rooke, Howlett, Brown, Bell, Williams, McMillan,Geoffrey,Haynes,Kinder I use for research Cunderdin-Meckering A Wheatlands History Book written by Joseph Placid Stokes British Vital Records Index 2 www.cunderdin.20m.com

Hello everyone! My website finally has my family info on it. Just click on the surnames there and you will be taken to the proper page. Also, I added many many more links, and guess what. They're organized! http://members.aol.com/ella12866/index.html I'm willing to do look ups in the 1880 US census. In order to be able to answer everyone's requests in a timely and organized manner, please follow these guidelines. Otherwise I may not be able to handle your request. First and foremost, email me privately off of the list with "1880 Census Look-up" in the subject of your email if you don't want my response posted to the list. Particularly since I click on the reply button out of habit. Unless the name is very uncommon, please supply the following.. 1. A first and last name. In other words, "Please give me all the SMITHs in New York" is something I can't help you with. 2. The state that the person was born in. 3. The state and possibly the city where the person would have been enumerated in 1880. In other words, "Please look up all John SMITHs. I don't know what state you would find him in." is something else I can't help you with. 3. An approximate year of birth. The more precise the better. The census index allows for up to a 5 year difference. Good luck, Ella Surnames I am researching are: COLEMAN, HARLING and EAVES from Lancashire, England to Phila.,PA KIRCHER, WEIKEL and RITTER/RUTTER from Germany BAIRD and JORDAN from Ireland CRISTALDI from Italy Any variations? That's ok. I've seen a few. Other names in my family are... CRUMLEY, HARVEY, MARKER, STEIN, STOLLEY, TITTERMARY... I piece together the past so my children won't be as confused as I am.

THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart's core. -- William Butler Yeats