Voices of Irish Tinkers -- "We're queer ways travelling people. One night we'll stay and one night we'll not and we'll have the whole camp gone up and thrown into a cart, cocks and roosters and goats and all the crockery and the kettle bar and all your belongings heaped together in a heap on the back of the cart..." "I see no harm in it letting the children do for themselves with a little bit of education, but if it's all the same to you, they gets a fair amount of that at home with all they have to do -- shouting for the horses in the morning and calling for the dogs in the field and they do know how to tie a rope to more than a little dog, and how to skin a cat; they knows how to catch a fish in the river with a piece of grass, how to throw a whistling sound to the colt, a whistling coat to the foxes and how to take chicken from the jaws of a stoat, and 'tis no mean education they gets out of the hammering of tin and the hammering of their mother's voice on their little animal ears." "Besides it do be peaceful on the road. I get a queer feeling when I do hear the goats scratching on the bark of the trees and they hop around in the branches and they rock the caravan of an evening and I lean out and tell them get off heifer, get off rooster, get off, get off, and don't be rocking the old caravan. The wind does have the best job in doing that. There's no need for you to scratch me ears out with your midnight goings on." "If you ask: What's the time? do you have the time? people do be vexed and they stare at you with their calculations as if you were riding about in a painted dream on the old horse and cart. We have black teeth but we dream just the same as the people that live in houses. Just to be born on the side of the road is to go down in disrespect. " -- Excerpts, "Irish Tinkers," Martina O'Fearadhaigh & Janine Wiedel

IRISH CONFLICT -- Seamus Heaney, born in Derry in 1939, a Catholic wrote: "Religion's never mentioned here," of course. "You know them by their eyes," and hold your tongue. "One side's as bad as the other," never worse. Christ, it's near time that some small leak was sprung In the great dykes the Dutchman made To dam the dangerous tide that followed Seamus. Yet for all this art and sedentary trade I am incapable. The famous Northern reticence, the tight gag of place And times; yes, yes. Of the "wee six" I sing Where to be saved you only must save face And whatever you say, you say nothing." There is a marvelous photo of three generations of the same family (surname not given) showing off their Lambeg drums in Ballymena in the early 1980s in "The Irish Century, A Photographic History of the Last Hundred Years," Michael MacCarthy Morrogh , pub. 1998. If this sounds like it might have been your Orange Order family, you might want to chase down a copy of the book. The fringed sashes indicate to which lodge of the Order they belong. Orange parades used to be tolerated by most Catholics, even enjoyed as something to brighten the often dull Ulster summers. But after 1970 they became unloved symbols of oppression. Broadly expressed, unionists believed their duty was to protect the British heritage in north-east Ireland and that had to mean no concessions to the Catholic minority . Should they let slip their vigilance, and allow Catholic nationalists power in whatever sphere, then the state could be threatened. Hence the emotive slogans from the 17th century and later: "No Surrender!" "Not an Inch!" "Ulster is British!" "No Pope Here." (Spotted on a wall in Belfast in 1976, that last cry had an additional graffito below it: "Lucky Old Pope!") It was assumed, with some justification, that most Catholics were nationalists; and also, with less justification, that none of them could be trusted with positions of responsibility. Hence the discrimination against the minority. In part this came about from a genuine dislike and fear of Catholicism from the Northern Protestants, many of them Presbyterians and traditionally hostile to Romish customs. A BBC interviewer in 1970: "What ! do you have against Roman Catholics?" Belfast Protestant, "Are you daft? Why their religion, of course." But the usual line was that the Catholics were consitutionally disloyal and hence traitors to the state. "Catholics were out to destory Ulster with all their might and power," said Sir Basil Brooke in 1933. He went on to advise giving employment only to Protestants." "I feel I can speak freely on this subject as I have not had a Roman Catholic about my own place... I would appeal to loyalists therefore, wherever possible, to employ good Protestant lads and lassies." Discimination undoubtedly operated, but in a far more mild and covert way than racial legislation in other countries. Comparisons with apartheid are inappropriate. Many Catholics, however, did find themselves disadvantaged at a local level. No surprise then that housing and jobs tended to go to the Protestants. Besides some local government jobs, Catholics quickly learnt there was little point in ap! plying for work with some private businesses, even giant concerns such as Short Brothers (the aircraft manufacturers in Belfast, at the forefront of technology having built the world's first jet), or Harland and Wolff, the Belfast shipbuilders who built the "Titanic." Those who did get posts found promotion hard or impossible. Denis Donoghue writes about his father, a sergeant in the RUC (Royal Ulster Constabulary) between the wars, who could not be promoted. "He was not a Protestant, therefore he was not a Unionist, therefore he was not a member of the Loyal Order of Orangement..." Donaghue also claims that, as a boy living in Warrenport, in Northern Ireland, he was able to spot a Protestant at a hundred yards. "In the North a Protestant walks with an air of possession and authority, regardless of his social class. He walks as if he owns the place, which indeed he does." Seamus Heaney wrote: "Smoke-signals are loud-mouthed compared with us: Manoeuvrings to find out name and school, Subtle discrimination by addresses With hardly an exception to the rule That Norman, Ken and Sidney signalled Prod And Seamus (calle me Sean) was sure-fire Pape. O land of password, handgrip, wink and nod, Of open minds as open as a trap...: A factor for change was the growth of the Catholic middle class, or at least those who had taken advantage of the educational opportunities since the Butler Act of 1944. Many who were at university in the 1960s looked about them and instead of treating discrimination simply as the way things were, as their parents might have done, determined to alter matters. In this they were encouraged by the mood amongst young people in the West during that decade, especially the Civil Rights campaign in America. The example had proved that peaceful agitation, protest marches, civil disobedience and the like could destory an old repressive system. Suddenly unionist policies which in previous decades might have been swallowed were no longer accepted with resignation by the minority. Things got totally out of hand... Painful images of war -- A young boy wearing an IRA beret stands guard by the open coffin of Jospeh McGann a top IRA man reported by his own to have killed 15 British soldiers. In 1972 he failed to stop at a checkpoint and died as he had lived. For a whole generation of children the Emergency had been their only experience of life. Ethnic cleansing, with Catholic families burnt or frightened out of their home by Protestant neighbours. It estimated that 60,000 were forced out of their homes between 1969 and 1972, some 80 percent of them Catholics. Protestants have been subjected to the same treatment. There is no originality in tribal warfare! .

Am forwarding this very useful information on Irish Civil Registration: See Query below ----- Original Message ----- From: <enalibof@netscape.net> To: <IRELAND-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Wednesday, June 05, 2002 12:02 PM Subject: RE: [IRELAND] John Bergin and daughters Mary and Annie Have you searched the Civil and church records for marriages and births? Registration of non-Catholic marriages began in 1845 in Ireland. Registration of births, marriages and deaths, regardless of religion, began January 1, 1864. Certificates for births, marriages and deaths for all of Ireland until 1922 and for the Republic since 1922 are housed in Dublin. Belfast has the records for Northern Ireland from 1922 to present in addition to the all Ireland records from 1864-1922. Ellen > > > "Peter Byford" <peter-byford@ntlworld.com> wrote: > > >Hi, > > > >I have asked for information before. This time there may be a little more > >information. > > > >It is possible that John Bergin (born 1830-50) was married to Margaret > >Brien, possibly in Ballysaggarts or Kilkenny. Their children included Mary, > >Annie and possibly Matthew who emigrated to Canada. > > > >Any information about these people would be gratefully received. > > > >Cheers, > > > >please respond to pgb@bcs.org.uk > >researching > >BYFORD - Yorkshire and Samuel of 1750s > >BERGIN - Kilkenny, Ballysaggarts, Ireland > >FINCH - East London > >HARRIS - Henry of Shepherds Bush > >HOLMAN - Sussex,Kent,Surrey,Colorado > >HOUSE - Dorset > >PIPE -Suffolk > >READ - Somerset , Bath > >SCOTCHER - Essex > >YOXALL - Cheshire > >

Researching the family of Matthew MCCOY born abt 1789 in Ireland, married Isabelle THOMPSON b. 4 May 1806 in Ireland, immigrated to the US before 1831 to Commerce Twp, Oakland Co, Michigan. Children: Robert, Joh, Jane, Matthew Nancy, Mary and Thomas Henry. I do not know the parents of either of these 2 people.-- Barbara Lewis

This courtesy message is being sent my friends and the contacts in my address book. It is to notify you that I have installed a SPAM | BAR Anti Spam filter, on my incoming mail. As long as you write to me using this particular address, your messages will come straight through to my mail inbox. If, however, at any time you should write to me using a different email address to this one, the SPAM | BAR program will reply to you asking you to confirm you are a real person.

THE BANSHEE Green, in the wizard arms Of the foam-bearded Atlantic, An isle of old enchantment, A melancholy isle, Enchanted and dreaming lies; And there, by Shannon's flowing, In the moonlight, spectre-thin, The spectre Erin sits. An aged desolation, She sits by old Shannon's flowing, A mother of many children, Of children exiled and dead, In her home, with bent head, homeless, Clasping her knees she sits, Keening, keening! And at her knee the fairy-grass Trembles on dun and barrow; Around the foot of her ancient crosses The grave-grass shakes and the nettle swings; In haunted glens the meadow-sweet Flings to the night wind Her mystic mournful perfume; The sad spearmint by holy wells Breathes melancholy balm. Sometimes she lifts her head, With blue eyes tearless, And gazes athwart the reek of night Upon things long past, Upon things to come. And sometimes, when the moon Brings tempest upon the deep, And roused Atlantic thunders from his caverns in the west, The wolfhound at her feet Springs up with a mighty bay, And chords of mystery sound from the wild harp at her side, Strung from the heart of poets; And she flies on the wings of tempest With grey hair streaming: A meteor of evil omen, The spectre of hope forlorn, Keening, keening! She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver On the gusts of night: O'er the four waters she keens -- over Moyle she keens, O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow, And the Ocean of Columbus. And the Fianna hear, and the ghosts of her cloudy hovering heroes; And the swan, Fianoula, wails o'er the waters of Inisfail, Chanting her song of destiny, The rune of the weaving Fates. And the nations hear in the void and quaking time of night, Sad unto dawning, dirges, Solem dirges, And snatches of bardic song; Their souls quake in the void and quaking time of night, And they dream of the weird of kings, And tyrannies moulting, sick In the dreadful wind of change. Wail no more, lonely one, mother of exiles, wail no more, Banshee of the world -- no more! Thy sorrows are the world's, thou art no more alone; Thy wrongs, the world's. -- John Todhunter (1839-1916)

BIO: Kate Murphy was just one of thousands of visitors to attend the 1897 Irish Fair at the Grand Central Palace in Manhattan. For several weeks people from all over the metropolitan region had come to see the handsome displays that the Irish societies had assembled in an attempt to present in capsule form something of Ireland's rich cultural heritage. One exhibit in particular, though, seemed to attract most of the attention. Irish soil, directly imported from the old country, had been laid out in sections, one for each of Ireland's 32 counties, to allow fairgoers to symbolically "set foot" in Ireland. In an age when relatively few Irish immigrants ever journeyed home again to see the old country, stepping on even a small piece of Ireland took on an almost mystical significance for many, particularly the elderly Irish immigrants who anxiously sought out the counties of their birth. Eighty-year-old Kate Murphy, overcome by the emotion of the experience of stepping once again upon the ground of her native County Fermanagh, knelt down in prayer, oblivious to the crowds and the newspaper reports around her. The flash of photographers' equipment surprised and startled this "simple-hearted creature" to such an extent that the light stunned her into awestruck silence as if it had been some sort of sign from heaven. Only reluctantly did she leave the exhibit, clinging all the time to the fence surrounding it, and looking back as if bidding a long farewell. A lingering homesickness was something that many immigrants would carry with them all their lives, but it was rarely so publicly and poignantly expressed as in the case of Kate Murphy. The Irish societies' exhibits at the Irish Fair were calculated to take a nostalgic look back at the Ireland the immigrants had left behind, and like their memories, it was a curious mixture of real and fanciful notions. But immigration in the 19th century was cruel in its finality, and faced with little chance of ever returning to Ireland, the Irish in America created the organizations that would try to create, in a small way, a surrogate Ireland in America. -- Excerpt, John T. Ridge, "The Irish in America," M. Coffey & T. Golway

BIO: When the Queen Mother died peacefully in her sleep at age 101 on the afternoon of March 30th, with her daughter Queen Elizabeth by her bedside, the Royal Family lost its matriarch. British people waited in their thousands to pay their respects to the woman who had been their Queen for 16 years and whose coffin was lying in state in Westminster Hall. For the older generations, this was a way of communing with their past. For the younger generations it was an opportunity to find a new, fresh interest in history. Her great-grandsons, William and Harry, recalled her mischevious sense of humour. "She loved a good laugh, even if the joke was about her," said Prince William. "Anything that was meant to be formal and went wrong she enjoyed..." When lovely little Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was born on August 4, 1900 at Glamis Castle in Scotland, the Wright brothers were only dreaming of manned flight; space travel existed only in the pages of Jules Verne's science fiction; even television and radio did not yet exist. The motorcar was a novelty for the rich and the legal speed limit on Britain's roads was a leisurely two miles an hour. Diseases, which modern medicine had virtually eradicated in the developed world, could still threaten epidemic at the start of the 20th century and social security, unemployment benefit had yet to be constructed. Women, and the majority of men, did not yet have the right to vote, "democracy" was a very different concept and reality, as was the world inhabited by those who could still be termed "the ruling classes." The upheavals of the 20th century wiped out the monarchs of Eastern, Central and Southern Europe. To the north and west of the old world they fared better and it was there, ! that the beautiful Scots lass could work her magic, an inspirational role she created when royalty becomes a synonym for caring and concern for others, generosity of spirit. Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon was the product of a solid and loving family environment, not always the case among aristocratic families, in which her personal qualities could grow. Her parents, the Earl and Countess of Strathmore, were a remarkable couple who believed in active parenthood when many of their social class seeemed intent only on getting their children out of the way, leaving them to the brought up by nannies and governesses, and packed off to boarding school at the earliest age allowed. Elizabeth was the ninth of ten children. The Strathmores were described as a close-knit, pious Scots clan, deeply loving and loyal to each other, deeply religious, and they benefited enormously from having parents who were also friends and advisors. The Strathmores belonged to a tradition of public service ! in return for privilege. The family home, Glamis Castle, was converted into a hospital for wounded soldiers in the First World War. The Strathmores were not protected from the horrors of war, and the family saw three of Elizabeth's brothers in uniform. By 1915 Fergus was dead and Michael had been severely wounded. Elizabeth joined her mother and sisters' work in the hospital's nursing and organisation. She became the hospital's social worker and was soon a favourite with the 1,500 wounded men who had been sent to Glamis to recover. The soldiers remembered her as the high-spirited, fun-loving, very beautiful youngster who did acrobatic tricks on the bicycle to amuse them, playing billards with them, often beat them at card games, played popular songs on the piano and wrote letters home on their behalf. For many, the Queen Mother was a "pastel dream," smiling and waving graciously as her birthdays mounted - for the Prince of Wales, she was "the most magical grandmother you could have. "I know what my darling grandmother meant to so many other people. She literally enriched their lives and she was the original life enhancer, whether publicly or privately, whoever she was with. And, in many ways, she became an institution in her own right; a presence in the nation and in other realms and territories beyond these shores. At once indomitable, somehow timeless, able to span the generations; wise, loving, and an utterly irresistible mischieviousness of spirit. An immensely strong character, combined with a unique natural grace, and an infectious optimism about life itself. Above all, she understood the British character and her heart belonged to this ancient land and it's equally indomitable and humorous inhabitants, whom she served with panache, style and unswerving dignity for nearly 80 years. I know, too, what she meant to my whole family, particularly the Queen, to whom she was such a stalwart and sensitive support when my grandfather died, when he wa! s only two and a half years older than I am now. For me, she meant everything and I had dreaded, dreaded this moment along with, I know, countless others. Somehow, I never thought it would come. She seemed gloriously unstoppable and, since I was a child, I adored her. Her houses were always filled with an atmosphere of fun, laughter and affection, and I learnt so much from her of immense value to my life. Apart from anything else, whe wrote such sparklingly wonderful letters and her turn of phrase could be utterly memorable. Above all, she saw the funny side of life and we laughed until we cried -- oh, how I shall miss her laugh and wonderful wisdom born of so much experience and an innate sensitivity to life. She was quite simply the most magical grandmother you could possibly have, and I was utterly devoted to her. Her departure has left an irreplaceable chasm in countless lives but, thank God, we are all the richer for the sheer joy of her presence and everything ! she stood for."

Can anyone help with records from 1700's in Londonderry Ireland? Matthew BUSBY Sr came from there to America sometime after 1770. Do not have any information before that time. cj http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BENHAM/

Hi C. J. Do you know about the "Londonderry Journal" newspaper? (See query below) -- The secret to successful genealogy is to find out as much as you can about your families from the known places they lived. Collect documents (with the help of the USA county historical society, for example, in exchange for a contribution to their society) and find and interview your living relatives for pieces of the puzzle. One of the best resources can be old circa 1900 USA county marriage applications (not certificate!) as these often include information on the parents of the bride & groom. Land records often give the last place lived. Look at microfilmed old censuses from the known places they lived. Subscribe to the periodicals put out by the county historical society and also read old history books. Keep digging -- Serendipity is alive & well! I just got lucky here in the USA finding an English cousin who had gone to Wales by contacting the school on the Internet that I felt he might have attended in his village in England. Lo and behold, not only was my query passed around the school, but it ended up in the hands of the author of a book about that area. Turns out the author went to school with my cousin, knew him and his family very well, and even had photographed his wedding! Today's mail brought me a copy of the author's book and slipped inside was a large wedding photo taken by him showing the entire wedding party standing in front of a church. There were several members of my father's family who I had never seen before, and I was thrilled! You just never know when a lead will pan out, don't get discouraged. I have been looking for this elderly cousin for 4 years on the Internet - he doesn't have a computer! Andrew Morris has a website with much early Irish data. Cyndi's List at www.cyndislist.com/ is a wonderful resource. So are Google searches if you put in enough keywords to modify searches. Some of these searches you can put a plus sign in front of a modifying word so that anything that comes up has to contain both words. The "Londonderry Journal" newspaper published by George Douglas and various partners began publishing news items from the major cities in Ireland including Londonderry on June 3, 1772. While I don't recall the author's name, I found a very interesting book in my genealogy library published circa 1980s-90s with fascinating excerpts from same. Especially useful to discover announcements of ship sailings, ports involved and captains. Perhaps you can locate a copy, it would have the words "Londonderry Journal" in the title. Check out your genealogy library for various books on Northern Ireland and immigration from Londonderry. Look for a set of books by Mr. Filby, who painstakingly transcribed data from hundreds of passenger lists from worldwide emigrants to the USA and Canada over a wide range of years ending early 1900s. John Grenham's fine book, "Tracing Your Irish Ancestors," (1999 ed.) lists resources for each Irish county with full explanations. The 1999 edition includes information on what is available on microfilm at your local LDS (Mormon) Family History Center. Just a few -- There are census substitutes Protestant Householders in 1740 and 1766 from particular locations in Co. Londonderry. There are records of Catholic migrants from Ulster to Co. Mayo in 1796. There are 1796 Spinning-Wheel Premium Lists (names & parishes of those granted spinning-wheels by the government on the basis of areas planted with flax, comprising, in the case of Co. Londonderry, over 8,000 names). There are 1797-1804 Yeomanry muster rolls. 1808-13 Freeholder lists. 1813 Freeholders (A-L). 1820s/30s Tithe Books. 1829 Census of Protestants, Chapel of the Woods parish. 1832 Voters List, Londonderry City. There is a book by Brian Mitchell in your genealogy library called "Irish Emigration Lists, 1833-39" pub. Baltimore in 1989 that lists emigrants from Co. Londonderry. Griffith's Valuation took place in Co. Londonderry in 1858/9 and is on CD. There is an 1868 Voters List for Londonderry City, in PRONI D.1935/6. There is an All-Ireland Census for 1901 and 1911. These are just some of the resources available. LDS has civil registration of marriages, births mid 1860s-70s. The National Library of Ireland (Dublin) has directories with info. on Co. Derry including : 1820 J. Pigot "Commerical Directory of Ireland" 1824 Pigot & Co. "City of Dublin and Hibernian Prov. Directory" 1835 William Matier, "Belfast Directory" 1842 Mathew Martin, "Belfast Directory" 1846 Slater's "National Commerical Directory of Ireland." 1852 James A. Henderson, "Belfast and Province of Ulster Directory," (issued also in 1854, 1856, 1861, 1863, 1865, 1868, 1870, 1877, 1880, 1884, 1887, 1890, 1894, 1900). 1856 Slater's "Royal National Commerical Directory of Ireland." 1865 - R. Wynne, "Business Directory of Belfast." 1870 - Slater's "Directory of Ireland." 1881 - Slater's "Royal National Commercial Directory of Ireland." 1887 - "Derry Almanac." 1894 - Slater's "Royal Commerical Directory of Ireland" Check and see if they are on microfilm at your local LDS FHC. ----- Original Message ----- From: <GenealogyJane@aol.com> To: <IrelandGenWeb-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Saturday, June 01, 2002 2:38 PM Subject: [IGW] Londonderry > > Can anyone help with records from 1700's in Londonderry Ireland? Matthew > BUSBY Sr came from there to America sometime after 1770. Do not have any > information before that time. > cj > http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BENHAM/ >

I need an accredited researcher in Dublin. Is there one on this list or can someone recommend one? Thank you. ô¿ô An Okie in Texas..... Still shaking the family tree and dodging the nuts after 20+ years! Can a first, second or third cousin, once removed, return?

BIO: Walt Whitman (1819-1892) born in West Hills, Long Island, NY, and grew up in Brooklyn. He was an American poet who sang the praises of the United States and democracy, and received literary acclaim from English writers long before American critics recognized him as a great poet. Whitman's love of America grew from his faith that Americans might reach new wordly and spiritual heights. He wrote: "The chief reason for the being of the United States of America is to bring about the common good will of all mankind, the solidarity of the world." Although he had only a few years of formal schooling, he took a series of jobs - reporter, editor, printer, schoolteacher, carpenter. As a preface to his collection of poems, "Leaves of Grass," he wrote: "The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem." "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking" tells of a little boy observing a mockingbird. The bird is mourning its mate, which was lost in a storm at sea. The ! bird's song teaches the boy the meaning of death and makes him decide to become a poet. The theme of the poem is that death is part of the cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth. Whitman wrote "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd" on the death of Abraham Lincoln. Whitman said that each spring the blooming lilac would remind him not only of the death of Lincoln, but also of the eternal return to life. He felt that poets eventually would lead men's souls back to God. Whitman worked as a printer and journalist in the NYC area. He wrote articles on political questions, civic affairs, and the arts. He loved mixing in crowds and attended debates, the theater, concerts, lectures, and political meetings. He often rode on stagecoaches and ferries just to talk with the drivers, boatmen, and passengers. He enjoyed a picnic as much as an opera. During the Civil War, Whitman was a volunteer assistant in the military hospitals in Washington, D. C. After the war he worked in several governmental departments until he suffered a stroke in 1873. He spent the rest of his life in Camden, NJ, where he continued to write poems and articles. He entertained such visitors as Oscar Wilde and Thomas Eakins, until his death in 1892. While I am personally not sure what his connection (if any) might be to Ireland, I thought that because he resided in NY, and in the wake of 09/11, I would post three poems of hope. UNSEEN BUDS Unseen buds, infinite, hidden well, Under the snow and ice, under the darkness, in every square or cubic inch, Germinal, exquisite, in delicate lace, microscopic, unborn, Like babes in wombs, latent, folded, compact, sleeping; Billions of billions, and trillons of trillons of them waiting, Urging slowly, surely forward, forming endless, And waiting ever more, forever more behind. MIRACLES Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring! These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place. To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same. To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim -- the rocks -- the motion of the waves -- the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there? SPARKLES FROM THE WHEEL Where the city's ceaseless crowd moves on the livelong day, Withdrawn I join a group of children watching, I pause aside with them. By the curb towards the edge of the flagging, A knife-grinder works at his wheel sharpening a great knife, Bending over he carefully holds it to the stone, by foot and knee, With measur'd tread he turns rapidly, as he presses with light but firm hand, Forth issue then in copious golden jets. Sparkles from the wheel. The scene and all its belongings, how they seize and affect me, The sad sharp-chinn'd old man with worn clothes and broad shoulder-band of leather, Myself effusing and fluid, a phantom curiously floating, now here absorb'd and arrested, The group, (an unminded point set in a vast surrounding.) The attentive, quiet children, the loud, proud, restive base of the streets, The low hoarse purr of the whirling stone, the light-press'd blade, Diffusing, dropping, sideways-darting, in tiny showers of gold. Sparkles from the wheel.

Just wanted to let everyone know that the new Irish newsletter name has been changed from The Irish Chronicles to: The Irish Eveywhere Newsletter You can still subscribe to this new FREE newsletter on the County Cavan or County Longford webpages. The subscriber information will soon be located on a new page. At that time the Cavan and Longford pages will redirect you to that new url for the newsletter as soon as the initial webpage is completed for The Irish Everywhere. I'm very excitedly looking forward to sending out the first issue on July 1, with a possible teaser mini-newsletter coming out about June 15th. There are some Irish Festivals that I want everyone to know about in case you'll want to attend them, and they will be included in the June 15th mini-issue. I'm planning additional items to be located on The Irish Everywhere webpage, along with the newsletters eventually being placed online for your viewing pleasure. The online versions will not be placed on the page until the following month's newsletter is mailed. So, once we get in full momentum, say, the July 1 newsletter should be setup on the webpage by approximately August 1, when the August issue should be going out. I welcome suggestions for the newsletter or for the webpage. I know that many of you out there are much more accomplished at this type of thing than I, and I'm learning much along the way. To those who have already subscribed, thank you. It is not necessary to resubscribe to the new title. You are on the subscriber list if you have previously subscribed. If you haven't subscribed to the newsletter yet, you can find the subscriber information located at: http://www.irelandgenweb.com/~cavan/cavan.html or http://www.irelandgenweb.com/~longford/longford.html Thank you, and remember, if you are an author, or fancy yourself one, please feel free to submit an article for consideration in upcoming issues. Denise Wells IRL-CAVAN RW mail listowner Editor, The Irish Everywhere Newsletter - subscribe by sending email to CountyCavan@aol.com Cos. Cavan & Longford IrelandGenWeb Project coordinator http://www.irelandgenweb.com

Is there anyone out there who might be able to help me locate an elusive great uncle? If anyone has access to the 1880-81 or 1890-91 Census for Drogheda would you be so kind to see if there is a Charles T. or a Frederick Farley listed? I truly, truly appreciate any information I can get on these two fellows. Michelle Wilson-Vt. USA

Jean, I have come to look forward to your posts. I was really fascinated by your post regarding the "famine ships", which left Ireland during the potato famine. I was horrified by the conditions that the people had to endure, but endure they did and I am proud of that! It very much tallies with the book, "The Great Hunger" by Cecil Woodham-Smith; a "MUST" read for anyone researching Irish history. Now I wonder if and when conditions began improve. My ggrandparents left Ireland in 1868. Did they find similar conditions when they crossed? Where might I look for such information? I am interested in putting "meat on the bones" of my ancestors and adding a little history to their travels will accomplish some of that. Thank you, Margaret in NV USA

See Query below -- Nee means "born," used to indicate the maiden name of a married woman. Irish left Ireland from ports of Londonderry, Belfast, Newry, Drogheda, New Ross, Wexford, Waterford, Youghal, Cork, Tralee, Kilrush, Limerick, Galway, Westport, Sligo and Donegal, some sailing directly to the USA and Canada, many crossed the usually turbulent Irish sea first to Liverpool. By 1850, the residents of New York were 26% Irish. "In a very short time there was nothing but stillness, a mournful silence in the villages, in the cottages grim poverty and emaciated faces...The tinkers...fled to the cities, the musicians...disappeared and never returned. Many of the residents too made their escape at once, finding employment or early graves elsewhere...There were no more friendly meetings at the neighbors' houses in the afternoons, no gatherings on the hillsides on Sundays, no song, no merry laugh of the maidens. Not only were the human beings silent and lonely, but the brute creation also, for not even the bark of a dog, or the crowing of a cock was to be heard." -- .Hugh DORIAN describing Donegal during the famine. On the first day about the "Washington" 900 passengers lined up on deck to receive their water ration of six pints each, as prescribed by law. Thirty filled up their cans at the barrels when suddenly the ship's mate who was supervising ordered: "That's all, no more." Bewildered, 870 Irish emigrants turned away empty-handed and dry-mouthed until a few hours later when they were again called out for their water allowance. This time, 30 received water before the rest were again turned away and roughly herded back to their steerage accommodation by brutal and abusive mates who kicked and cursed the passangers without provocation. As it turned out, water was not the only commodity in drastic short supply on board the "Washington." She left Liverpool on Oct. 27, 1850, bound for NY on what would become infamous voyage. For, by a stroke a luck, an enterprising passenger, Vere FOSTER, kept a diary of events which he later published on his return to Ireland, provoking a public outcry and debates in Parliament. Vere FOSTER was a rich, well-connected and well-intentioned philanthropist who took a special interest in the plight of the Irish emigrants. He had already helped several reach America by paying their fares. Concerned about bad reports of emigrant travel, he resolved to discover for himself the quality of life aboard a Famine ship. On board the "Washington," he kept a meticulous diary of events. Though FOSTER campaigned valiantly, and took positive steps to reform practices on board emigrant ships, the political and legal climate was unhelpful. Famine emigrants continued to suffer at the hands of corrupts captains, owners or agents. Prosecutions were rare and when made, were often quashed in the absence of evidence. Yet, on returning to Ireland, FOSTER did manage to publish a helpful guidebook for emigrants. Entitled "Work and Wages or The Penny Emigrant's Guide," published London, 1854, it offered many usual tips for surviving on board and on shore. "You have stated that, after getting to sea, the two privies on deck were destroyed?" "Yes...they were put up temporarily...the day before she sailed.." And that there were none below?" "Yes. None below." "What was the remedy?" "There was no remedy..." "In consequence of that there was a very bad smell below?" "You could not stand below." -- Testimony of Mr. Delany FINCH, Minutes of Evidence Taken Before the Select Committee on Emigrant Ships, 1854. "...It may be thought that the immolation of so many wretched starvelings was rather a benefit than a loss to the world. It may be so, Yet -- untutored, degraded, famished and plague-striken as they were; I assert that there was more true heorism, more faith, more forgiveness to their enemies, and submission to the Divine Will, exemplifed in these victims, than could be found in ten times the number of their oppressors. ...Historians and politicans will some day sift and weigh the conflicting narrations and documents in this lamentable year, and pronounce with or without affection, how much is due to the inclemency of heaven, and how much to the cruelty, heartlessness or improvidence of man. The boasted institutions and spirit of the empire are on tirial. They are weighed in the balance. -- Robert WHYTE, "The Ocean Plague, or A Voyage to Quebec in an Irish Emigrant Vessel, Embracing a Quarantine at Gross Isle in 1847, with notes Illustrative of the Ship Pestilence of that Fatal Year," pub. Boston, 1848, Copy in Library of Congress. If any class deserves to be protected and assisted by the government, it is that class who are banished from their native land in search of the bare means of subsistence...The law is bound, at least on the English side...to put an end to that system by which a firm of traders in emigrants purchase of the owners the whole 'tween decks of a ship, and send on board as many wretched people as they can get hold of on any terms they can get, without the smallest reference to the convenience of the steerage...or anything but their own immediate profit..." -- Charles DICKENS, "American Notes." "I was called on deck to smell the land -- and truly the change was very sensible...It was the breath of youth and hope and love." -- Diary of Mary GAPPER. "New York is a very brillant city. To give the bet idea of it I should describe it as something of a fusion between Liverpool and Paris -- crowded quays, long perspectives of vessels and masts, bustling streets, gay shops, tall white houses, and a clear brilliant sky overhead." -- EARL OF CARLISLE, "Travels in America." -- Excerpts, "Paddy's Lament," Thomas & Michael Gallagher & "The Famine Ships," Edward Laxton ---- Original Message ----- From: "Teresa m Bell-Figueroa" <tcm36@juno.com> To: <IRELAND-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Saturday, May 25, 2002 2:48 PM Subject: [IRELAND] Fw: Quann & O'Neill > > Subject: Quann & O'Neill > > Can someone tell me what the nee means before a persons name? > > and > > If anyone left Ireland b/t 1853 - 1858 and headed for America what state > would they of come into first?? And can anyone tell me the process that > they would of gone through to be allowed to leave Ireland to get on a > ship headed for America? > > Thank you, > Teresa > >

THE LEPRAHAUN In a shady nook one moonlit night, A leprahaun I spied In scarlet coat and cap of green, A cruiskeen by his side. 'Twas tick, tack, tick, his hammer went, Upon a weeny shoe, And I laughed to think of a purse of gold, But the fairy was laughing too. With tip-toe step and beating heart, Quite softly I drew nigh. There was mischief in his merry face, A twinkle in his eye; He hammered and sang with tiny voice, And sipped the mountain dew; Oh! I laughed to think he was caught at last, But the fairy was laughing too. As quick as thought I grasped the elf, "Your fairy purse," I cried. "My purse?" said he, "'tis in her hand, That lady by your side." I turned to look, the elf was off, And what was I to do? Oh! I laughed to think what a fool I'd been, And, the fairy was laughing too. -- Robert Dwyer Joyce (1830-1883)

RUBBER LEGS But then I mind Keenan and this man Brian McAleer, there was a big barn dance in it one night and the thing got going that good and Brian came out of the kitchen Och, he was going on maybe seventy years of age at the time. but a light, thin man, you know, and always in good spirit. Great singer too. And him and Keenan hit the floor for a reel. Well, if you seen them two men dancing, boy, they were dancing from when they were young fellows, you know, in their youth, and still this was a great meeting for them to meet again two old men, you know, they'd been dancing whenever they were young fellows. I'll tell you what they done too and they sung together and they herded, and there was no ditches and no fences about and if you went out and herded your cattle the whole day and him and Brian was raised together. That was Keenan's farm there and McAleer's farm was here and the two men herding on the one mountain together and they sung together the whole day and exchanged songs. And Brian and him going out that night on the floor and if you seen them boys, you would just think their legs was rubber. I could mind Brian McAleer, you want to see that man and him over eighty, and the thin light legs of him, and I can see him yet. And Keenan was down below, and Keenan was a small man, a small tight wee man, sort of wee pernickety man, you know, and he was down there dancing. And Keenan and McAleer was up and then they would change places. Well, you want to see McAleer; you'd think the legs was rubber, for a man like that, no pains nor arthritis nor rheumatism nor damn what else. He was quivering and carrying on with his feet and Keenan was down below and Keenan was putting in nice fancy steps, you know. Ah Jesus, you want to see them two men dancing, you could have played for them for a week. -- John Loughran

THE FIDDLER OF DOONEY When I play on my fiddle in Dooney Folk dance like a wave of the sea; My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet, My brother in Mocharabuiee. I passed my brother and cousin: They read in their books of prayer; I read in my book of songs I bought at the Sligo fair. When we come at the end of time To Peter sitting in state, He will smile on the three old spirits, But call me first through the gate; For the good are always the merry, Save by an evil chance, And the merry love the fiddle, And the merry love to dance: And when the folk there spy me, They will all come up to me, With "Here is the fiddler of Dooney!" And dance like a wave of the sea. -- William Butler Yeats (1865-1939), from "The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats," Macmillan & Co., London.

Joan, many thanks for your info re the black and the tans. You mention that there is a Belfast City Mailing list, would you happen to know the address for this list.? Many thanks Sharron --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.361 / Virus Database: 199 - Release Date: 5/7/02