QUERY: Has anyone taken the ferry across the Irish Sea, or Aer Lingus or Ryanair flights from Dublin to Liverpool's John Lennon airport and back? If so, what were your experiences? Did you have problems with seasickness rough sea?) and length of crossing, flight cancellations, transportation to/from airports, finding decent accommodations? Hope to visit Liverpool (where dad was born in 1903) on my summer 2006 trip to Ireland. Since likely a two-day stay in Liverpool, will probably get around by bus or taxi. Will likely save seeing rest of England for another trip. Thank you! Jean

SNIPPET: "At this period of my life I was rather vain, and very fond of fine clothes: indeed my greatest expense was the decoration of my precious person. I wore every evening, full dress embroidered coats, either gold, silver or silk. I wore two watches (as was the custom of the country) and a diamond ring on each of my little fingers..." Words of some young dandy of a nobleman? No, an Irish singer, Michael KELLY, one of the company engaged in 1784 to provide a season of Italian opera in Vienna. The principals, it seems, were accorded a proper respect. As well as receiving handsome fees, KELLY was provided with an elegantly furnished apartment, breakfast - 'with every delicacy of the season' - and an after perfomance supper, not to mention fuel, wax candles, and a carriage to take him to and from the theatre. When he was not performing, he'd often go to one of the taverns in the Prater, which was, as he tells us, frequented by people of all ranks, who would enjoy eating, drinking, dancing, music, and 'every description of merriment.' Young Michael KELLY clearly led a hectic social life. The British ambassador entertained him, as did many of the music-loving Austrian nobility. He was even given the occasional kind word by the EMPEROR, JOSEPH II, who according to KELLY was passionately fond of music and came to the opera almost every night. KELLY's first appearance in Vienna was in an opera by PAISIELLO, in which, though only 22, he played the part of an old man with great success. KELLY was also in works by the aged GLUCK, he sang in operas by SALIERI, and the two men got on well together, even making the odd excursion to the Prater, where once they were having a picnic and discussing music and they had to flee from an inquisitive wild boar. KELLY also spent some days in HAYDN's house on the splendid estate of Prince ESTERHAZY, where he was most hospitably entertained But what he called 'one of the greatest gratifications of my musical life' was being invited to a musical evening, where he met MOZART. MOZART, then 29, took a liking to KELLY and asked him often to his house, where they would drink punch and play billiards -- MOZART invariably won. KELLY, who had ambitions to be a composer, even ventured to show his new friend some of his airs, and sought his advice as to further lessons. He seemed naively pleased by MOZART's response. '...Now that your profession on the stage must, and ought, to occupy all your attention, it would be an unwise measure to enter into a dry study ... Nature has made you a melodist, and you would only disturb and perplex yourself ... should there be errors in what you write, you will find hundreds of musicians, in all parts of the world, capable of correcting them; therefore ! do not disturb your natural gift.' Surely a tactful comment, but, as KELLY said, MOZART was kind-hearted. He even arranged one of KELLY's airs as a vocal trio (K. 532), which much pleased the melodist. In later years, when KELLY was deeply involved in running Drury Lane Theatre and King's Theatre in London, and often singing as well, he was credited with the composition of numerous operas. He apparently took earlier advice from MOZART to 'keep to the melodies,' employing other musicians to do the rest. But whatever his ability as a composer, KELLY was said to be unique among 'playactor singers' in having a true tenor voice. It must have been good or MOZART would not have given him the parts of Don Curzio and Don Basilio in the premiere of his new opera, 'The Marriage of Figaro,' that took place in Vienna on 1 May 1786 in the presence of the Emperor. Of that occasion KELLY remarked: "It was allowed that never was opera stronger cast. I have seen it performed at different periods in other countries, and well too, but no more to compare with its original performance than light is to darkness. All the original performers had the advantage of the instruction of the composer, who transfused into their minds his inspired meaning. I never shall forget his little animated countenance, when lighted up with the glowing rays of genius -- it is impossible to describe it, as it would be to paint sunbeams." An enormous success, KELLY thought the audience would never stop applauding and calling for MOZART. The following year Michael KELLY decided to leave Vienna, travelling with his friends Nancy and Stephen STORACE, who had engagements in London. He was briefly back in Dublin in June, where he sang the part of Lionel in Charles DIBDIN's opera 'Lionel and Clarissa," in Smock Alley Theatre. It was in that theatre he had made his stage debut ten years earlier, and it was in that theatre he would sing for the last time, in 1811. KELLY died in 1826, having lived to see the success of his entertaining "Reminiscences." A new edition was published by the Oxford University Press in 1975, helpfully annotated by Roger FISKE. FISK quotes Sir Walter SCOTT as saying of KELLY: "Being born an Irishman, he has some of the reckless humour of his country, with a large share of its good nature." Both of these qualities are present in his memoirs, which give a vivid picture of life in music and theatre at the turn of the 18th century. -- Excerpts, "Venetia O'SULLIVAN, "Ireland of the Welcomes" magazine pub. in Dublin (Sept-Oct 1991)

This is one of my favorites...thanks to George at the Irish Heritage Newsletter. Shepherd's Pie 450g of minced beef 1 tablespoon of olive oil 2 medium sized chopped onions 75g chopped carrots 1 teaspoon of thyme 1 tablespoon of chopped parsley 1 tablespoon of plain flour 275ml of beef stock 1 tablespoon of tomato puree Salt and pepper 900g of potatoes 50g of butter Method 1. Heat the olive oil and fry the onions for about 5 minutes and then add the chopped carrots and continue frying for an additional 5 minutes. Then remove the vegetables from the frying pan. 2. Increase the heat on the frying pan and cook the beef in batches and afterwards season with salt and pepper and add the vegetables along with thyme and parsley. 3. Stir in the flour and gradually add the beef stock to the mixture. Then add the tomato puree and reduce the heat and allow mixture to cook for 30 minutes. 4. Peel and boil the potatoes and sprinkle with salt. After about 25 minutes the potatoes should be ready and at this point mash them and add butter. 5. When the meat is ready put it into a baking dish and spread the mashed potato on top. Now bake for a further 25 minutes until golden and crispy on top. -- Pat Connors, Sacramento CA http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

SNIPPET: Dublin-born William Butler YEATS (1868-1939), the celebrated poet and author, winner of the coveted Nobel Prize for Literature, was only one member of the talented YEATS family who had roots in Cos. Dublin and Sligo and London. William's daughter, Anne (b. 1919), is a contemporary artist and early member of the Irish Exhibition of Living Art, who was still living and working in Dublin in 1999. In 1996, she generously presented the Jack B. Yeats Archive to the National Gallery of Ireland, which included her uncle's sketchbooks and library, papers and working records taken from his studio - all extraordinary treasures. William Butler YEATS' talented father, John Butler ("J.B.Y") YEATS (1839-1922), started as a pen-and-ink draughtsman, covering pages with tiny, exquisite drawings of characters he saw or from his imagination. He turned them to charcoal and gouache, and finally to oil, and past the age of 50, he modernized his method and created some of the most wonderful portrait images in Irish art, haunting likenesses of the leading figures in the cultural Ireland of his day. His wife was Susan Mary POLLEXFEN, one of a mercantile family from Sligo. John spent much of his time as portrait painter and illustrator in Dublin and London; between 1909 and 1922 he lived in New York where he devoted much of his life to writing and defining his ultimate self-portrait. Two of their children died young - Robert ("Bobbie") Corbet YEATS (1870-1873), and Jane Grace YEATS (1875-1876). William's sisters Susan Mary "Lily" YEATS (1866-1949) and Elizabeth "Lolly" Corbet YEATS (1868-1940) were co-founders of printing presses, the Dun Emer Industries and Cuala Industries in Dublin. Lily, an original decorative fabric artist, trained under the renowned socialist-poet and artist William MORRIS. She also made embroidered pictures, some designed by her sister. Elizabeth as a printer and designer, in addition to being a significant watercolorist. She also wrote and published four brushwork manuals, and taught art to budding young students. One of her most famous pupils was Irish artist Mainie JELLET.. William's brother, John ("Jack") Butler YEATS (1871-1957), was a prolific artist who once said that he never painted a picture with "a thought of Sligo" in it, where he spent many happy summers with his maternal grandparents. The first decade of Jack's career after boyhood in Sligo was spent as a successful black-and-white illustrator and creator of cartoons, working as a visual journalist in the days before cameras were widely used. He loved sports, as can be seen in the most popular of his paintings, "The Liffey Swim." He and his family never forgot the visits with his POLLEXFEN relatives to Hazelwood Racecourse in Sligo: "The crowds, the smell of bruised grass, the thud of the horses over the jumps," one of his sisters dreamily described it. Jack is described as a quiet, modest man, very gentle and particularly likeable, in comparison with his more renowned and lofty poet brother. Jack said that the painter captures a particular moment, in a particular place, at a partic! ular time. Early on he dedicated himself to watercolor, painting into maturity his chosen subject - Irish life - and maintaining a tremendous energy in his work. Before that he had spent the 1890s in London, where he married an artist, Mary Cottenham WHITE, in 1894. The couple had no children. Jack continued making cartoons throughout his life, signing them with the pseudonym "W. Bird." He also continued to illustrate for such diverse authors as his brother, and John Millington SYNGE, Patricia LYNCH, and Seamus O'KELLY - always getting to the core of each writer's message with memorable imagery. A coveted artist, Jack's painting, "Oh Had I the Wings of a Swallow," most recently sold for 800,000 pounds, and in March of 1999 a museum was dedicated in his honor in Dublin. -- Excerpts, "World of Hibernia" magazine, and "The Yeats Reader."

SNIPPET: Per Joost AUGUSTEIJN, Lecturer in European History, Leiden University -- "Patrick PEARSE was an educationalist, writer, and revolutionary. Although best known as leader of the rising of 1916, PEARSE's nationalism was initially more cultural than political. He became involved with the Gaelic League as a teenager and edited their journal, 'An Claidheamh Soluis,' from 1903-1909. He also lectured in Irish at University College, Dublin. Influenced by continental practices in bilingual education he founded St Enda's in 1908, a bilingual secondary school which fostered all things Irish. Initially a supporter of home rule he became convinced that Britain would never voluntarily grant Ireland autonomy when faced with unionist opposition and began to favour the use of force. He was involved in setting up the Irish Volunteers and became their director of operations. He joined the Irish Republican Brotherhood and was co-opted onto the supreme council and the secret military council. His graveside oration at O'Donovan ROSSA's funeral in 1915, ended with the much quoted line, 'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace,' was influential in the build-up to the rising. He became commander-in-chief of the volunteers during the rising and president of the Provisional Government. As such he signed the unconditional surrender, and was subsequently court-martialled and executed. PEARSE wrote extensively in Irish and English. In his writing he described bloodshed as a cleansing and sanctifying thing, and stated that a blood sacrifice was needed to awaken the Irish nation. In his eyes slavery was more horrible than bloodshed. This thinking has often been described as unbalanced or even insane, but is now also seen as a tactical response to the realization that a successful rising was unlikely." The following poem was written at his mother's request, just before he and his brother went out to fight in the rising of 1916.. THE MOTHER I do not grudge them; Lord, I do not grudge My two strong songs that I have seen go out To break their strength and die, they and a few, In bloody protest for a glorious thing. They shall be spoken of among their people, The generations shall remember them, And called them blessed; But I will speak their names to my own heart In the long nights; The little names that were familiar once Round my dead hearth. Lord, thou art hard on mothers: We suffer in their coming and their going; And tho' I grudge them not, I weary, weary Of the long sorrow -- And yet I have my joy: My sons were faithful, and they fought. It was Padraig PEARSE who said: "We have the strength and the peace of mind of those who never compromise."

This is a great resource (the FHL books online), and reminds me of another similar initiative from Google to get books online, which has been I the press a lot lately. This week Google Print announced its first release of "public domain" non-copyright material, through its partnership with numerous libraries. I used the search on their site on Wednesday, and found a wealth of interesting books. The full text is searchable. I've found books related to surnames and local histories in the counties I am researching. Because of the copyright protection issue, most of the books are a bit on the old side, which for us genealogists, is great. http://print.google.com/ There is still some controversy over Google's plans to offer copyrighted material. For the time being, if your search pulls up a copyrighted book, you will be shown a snippet, and directed to where you can find the book at a library or for purchase. Kathy Nemaric Orlando, FL

With thanks to John and Nancy on the Stow/Stowe-L list and Warren Wetmore on the Haviland-L list, I am repeating this with their permission. FHL Books Online at BYU The following is an article about online books that I just received. The message is incredibly cool! You can go to the Brigham Young University website http://www.lib.byu.edu/ and do searches of over 5000 books which the Family History Library has put online.* ... the LDS Family History Library has announced that it has begun the process of digitizing and making available on the Internet all of the Family History books in their collection. These are primarily books in the "929.273Series" that are currently housed on the first floor of the Family History Library (previously housed on the fourth floor of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building). At the present time (September 2005), about 5000 books have been digitized and are available, and they have announced that they are adding about 100 titles a week to the on-line collection. Copyright issues are playing a role in determining the order in which they progress through this task; books out of copyright are being done first. As these Family History books are digitized and placed on-line, an entry is being placed in the Family History Library on-line catalog with a hyperlink to the digitized image. By going to the FHL On-Line Catalog, you can search for a specific name, find a book that has been indexed using the name, and view it on-line, flipping through the pages as separate "pdf" images, much the same as if you were on the first floor of the Family History Library. = Of course, the indexing that is available through the FHL Catalog is only as good as the human indexers made it; typically they only include the "top" 4 to 6 names that appear in each book in their indexing efforts. But there is even better news! The digitized images of these Family History books are actually being stored on the electronic servers at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.= By going directly to the BYU web site to view the images, there are several additional possibilities that provide genealogists functionality that they have never had before. You are now able to do full-text searches on each book, and on every digitized book in the collection. Now you can locate the small two-paragraph entry on Grandpa Ebenezer McGarrah that is buried in one of the Family History books that you would have otherwise never thought to look at before. This can open up a huge new possibility for extending lines, getting past brick walls, and uncovering new relatives!= How to Find The Digitized Images? Go to the web site of the Harold B. Lee Library at BYU at http://www.lib.byu.edu/ on their home page, follow the links "Find Other Materials/Electronic/On Line Collections at BYU". Click on the "Text Collections" tab and select the "Family History Archive" from the list of collections that are displayed. You would then normally want to use the "Search All" feature with the "Search Full Text" box checked, although the "Advanced Search" will allow very high-powered searches that will allow certain phrases to be searched for and other words to be used to exclude potential hits. As you make selections from the "hits" that are displayed, you will need to use the "Click Here to View Item" button near the top of the screen to display the actual image of the page. You can page through the entire document using the index displayed on the left side of the screen. Each page may be printed after being viewed. One interesting sidelight is, when you are at the first web page for the Family History Archive (the page that lets you begin a search), click on the "Browse the Collection" button. This will display every Family History book that has been digitized and is available in the collection. You can scroll through this list much the same as if you were walking up and down the stacks at the library. At the top of the first page of the search results, it displays the number of hits, which (in this case) is the number of books in the collection. If you keep track of this number, you can get a pretty good idea of how fast they are adding titles to the collection as you revisit the web site from time to time. I think you will want to visit this site often as the collection grows!" -- Pat Connors, Sacramento CA http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

Belfast Telegraph May 15 1916: RANK AND FILE LOSSES IN DUBLIN: A further batch of Dublin casualties is issued containing ten names of killed and 56 wounded. Amongst them are the following:- KILLED. Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers: - Knox, 27861, F.W. (Wicklow) Royal Irish Rifles:- Coyle, 6427, Co. Q.M. Sergt. J (Middlesborough); Duggan, 5470, C. (Belfast Enlt); Holohan, 8874, T. (Waterford); M‘Clelland, 7610, A.(Down). WOUNDED: Royal Inniskilling Fusliers:- Ferguson, 17803, H(Belfast); Foley, 9823, ? (Cork) Gerrard, 27512, F. (Navan); M’Alonen, 10519, Sgt. J(Belfast); Royal Irish Rifles:- Atkins, 5341, M.(Kilkenny); Cleyland, 7371, W.D.(Belfast); Cunningham, 5415, J.(Youghal); Doyle, 5247, L. (Dublin); Gould, 1802, S. (Manchester); Graham, 3383, A.(Manchester); Irvine, 7512, G. (Newry); Mangan, 7885, Cpl. J.(Dublin) Patton, 5344, S.(Ballymoney); O’Reilly, 5592, E. (Stillorgan); Smyth, 5762, W.(Carrick-on-Shannon); Taylor, 8380, Co. Sgt.Major,W.H (Athlone); Wilson, 5493, C, (Waterford). Royal Irish Fusiliers:- Beatty, 20652, R.(Killigar, Co.Leitrim); Burnison(?), 23825, J.(Lurgan); Carroll, 1126, E.(Manchester); Clarke, 23439(23459?)J. (Newbliss); Padmore, 13649, Lance-Cpl, B.(Saltley); Somerville, 22839, G (Lurgan). Royal Dublin Fusiliers:- Smyth, 24943, R (Dromore, Co Down) MORE NORTHERN DEPORTEES: DUBLIN, Sunday:- A list of 203 prisoners removed from Richmond Barracks, Dublin, and lodged in Stafford Detention Barracks was issued this afternoon. The list includes the names of the following:- J.O’Kane, 4 Divis Drive, Falls Road, Belfast. B. M’Mackin, Belfast. P. Nash, 52 Gibson Street, Belfast. T. Sharley, 7 Dublin Street, Dundalk. J. Barrett, 13 Dublin Street, Dundalk. P. Halpin, Burns Row, Dundalk. M. Kavanagh, Castle Conor, Co. Sligo. T. Clear, 57 Agincourt Avenue, Belfast. J. Barnes, St. James’ Park, Falls Road, Belfast. M. Carolan, 80 Chief Street, Belfast. P. Casey, Castletown Road, Dundalk. J.J. Walter, Maxwell Terrace, Dundalk. H. Osborne 69 Smithfield, Belfast. --------------------------------- Yahoo! FareChase - Search multiple travel sites in one click.

THE SHADOW DOLL (This was sent to the bride-to-be in Victorian times, by her dressmaker. It consisted of a porcelain doll, under a dome of glass, modeling the proposed wedding dress.) They stitched blooms from ivory tulle to hem the oyster gleam of the veil. They made hoops for the crinoline. Now, in summary and neatly sewn -- a porcelain bride in an airless glamour -- the shadow doll survives its occasion. Under glass, under wraps, it stays even now, after all, discreet about visits, fevers, quickenings and lusts and just how, when she looked at the shell-tone spray of seed pearls, the bisque features, she could see herself inside it all, holding less than real stephanotis, rose petals, never feeling satin rise and fall with the vows I kept repeating on the night before -- astray among the cards and wedding gifts -- the coffee pots and the clocks and the battered tan case full of cotton lace and tissue paper, pressing down, then pressing down again. And then, locks. -- Ms. Eavan BOLAND, born Dublin, has lived in England and the USA.

The "Erin Go Bragh," (Ireland Forever), was a fully-rigged, three-masted ship owned in Cork by Joshua and Abraham HARGREAVES, built of oak and tamarack, beech and elm. During the 19th century, a total of nine million emigrants spilled out of Europe, sailing from Liverpool to America. Many immigrants from Europe were brought from Hull by rail to Liverpool 100 miles away. It was logical for Irish to aim for Liverpool as their launching pad into the New World as it was a familiar site of work for thousands of Irish farmhands who regularly crossed to Liverpool, seeking work at the end of summer on English farms. Too few opportunities existed at home and the wages in England were better. Many more ships were available in Liverpool with its big, fast vessels and speedy American packet ships. The day of departure, each emigrant had to appear before a medical officer who was paid by the ship owner or charterer one pound for every hundred passengers he gave a very rudimentary examination to, and he would stamp each ticket as proof of inspection. Passengers were entitled to board the ship 24 hours before departure. Leaving Liverpool on March 22, 1851, bound for America (on what proved to be an uneventful trip) was the HARGREAVES' ship, "Erin Go Bragh" and 273 Irish passengers, including several large families, a few spinsters and 50 young, unattached men ready for work. Since the records do not give county of of origin, it is nearly impossible to sort out where the passengers originated from, but I note a 18-year-old laborer with the unusual name of Rose KILFEATHER. Captain Jeremiah CASEY and his crew of 15, plus four teenage apprentices, set a good pace across the Atlantic and reached New York after 32 days at sea on April 23, 1851. Of course many, many voyages of other ships during this time period and earlier were hideous ordeals for the passengers depending on factors such as weather, number of passengers and crew, experience of the crew, condition of the ship, food supplies, time of year, illness on board, etc. By report, a bustling, colorful scene greeted the passengers of the "Erin Go Bragh" on arrival at the South Street Seaport. Captain CASEY used the current to force the ship over to the Manhattan side of the East River. As the ship passed by a cluster of barges, some laboring dock hands looked up and greeted the few passengers on deck who called down below with details of quays turned into market places as fishing smacks disgorged their catches and schooners unloaded fresh fruit onto roughly-made stalls. Women clasped their bonnets against the wind. It was noted that no one was seen fighting over food, there were no beggars but signs of plenty all round. They saw sacks of grain being off-loaded onto barges which disappeared into the city on a network of canals. The steep sloping roofs of tall, square warehouses three stories high looked down on all the activity and many flags of the Stars and Stripes fluttered their welcome to new Americans. Suddenly America, the Land of the Free, lay at the end of the mooring line which was spinning through the air from the hands of the second mate, Eddie McDONNELL. Per reports, a preacher on a box was exalting a small crowd to resist evil and a knot of ships' captains were seen exchanging their news. While some faced their new life alone and unprepared, the lucky ones met families waiting for them on arrival. For aspiring farmers, there had been news of enticing land offers which had been published in emigrant circulars. The official "Colonization Circular," for instance, published each spring in Britain, gave details of farmland for sale in Canada. The circular in 1851 listed several areas where cleared land was available at 5 shillings (US $1.25) an acre stating that "one-fourth of the purchase money will be payable in five years from the date of purchase, the remaining in three equal installments at intervals of two years between each, all with interest". The limit was set at 100 acres but the reasonable terms of such offers indicated the eagerness of the Canadian and American governments at that time to hang onto the Irish emigrants to work the land. In Nova Scotia, land was sold at half that in Canada; if the full amount were paid on purchase, a 100-acre farm could ! be bought for eight pounds 15 shillings, (US $43.75). Although it had no official backing, a booklet entitled "Nine Years in America," was in great demand in Ireland during that time. It was compiled from a series of letters sent from Thomas MOONEY, who had traveled all through America and Canada to his cousin Patrick MOONEY, a farmer in Ireland. The opening words were bound to have appealed to the hard-pressed Irish peasant. "The American farmer never pays any rent, when he takes a farm he buys it forever...two, three or possibly seven years may pass over before he is called upon by the government to pay the purchase money." MOONEY also noted that food in America was only two-thirds of the price in Ireland and public taxes about a quarter; while clothing, fuel and house rent were about equal. He noted that the facility for acquiring housing, lands, and education for children was "a hundred to one greater," and that emigrant passengers had much to look forward to.

Memory of My Father Patrick Kavanagh Every old man I see Reminds me of my father when he had fallen in love with death One time when sheaves were gathered. That man I saw in Gardiner Street Stumble on the kerb was one, He stared at me half-eyed, I might have been his son. And I remember the musician Faltering over his fiddle In Bayswater, London, He too set me the riddle. Every old man I see In October-coloured weather Seems to say to me: 'I was once your father'.

The Jan-Feb 2001 issue of "Ireland of the Welcomes," published in Dublin has a charming story with wonderful photos of Stella (Brassill) WEAVER's sentimental trip back to Co. Kerry, Ireland, after an absence of 60 years. She met her cousin Mikey's widow, Mary BRASSILLl, Mary's son Dinny and wife Deirdre and family at Rahela and spent a wonderful afternoon with "pot after pot of tea as brown as bog water," and cobs of Mary's coarse soda bread spread thick with butter and jam. The visit was a very emotionally satisfying one for Stella and son Fran, currently a freelance writer based in Finland. Grey-haired Stella seemed to reflect wistfully on how different life was here in Rahela compared to the hectic existence in Manchester, where she had raised her own family since the 1950s. If only her parents had not been forced by the lack of opportunities in the SW of Ireland to settle permanently in England.... Stella had last come this way in 1939, as a 12-year-old girl evacuated from wartime Liverpool with her mother and sister to her father's former home at Rahela in North Kerry. Although there had been recent changes, Stella was delighted to see that many of the lanes and fields were still bounded by ancient drystone walls or thick fuchsia hedges of crimson flowers, "ripe to be popped open by a new generation of small fingers." Old photos in the article included Stella at age nine with her cousin Kitty, sister Molly, Aunt Lena, Aunt Ruby, her mother Mary, cousins Angela, sisters Pat and Norah behind the house at Rahela. Another was of "Grandfather Tom" with Fran's cousin Danny in Co. Kerry circa 1960. On the straight road to Ballyduff lined by high, dark hedges, the first sight she had recognized was the ancient Round Tower of Rattoo, a slender stone finger pointing up towards heaven from a field of cabbages just off the main road. The only possible entrance appeared to be a narrow window high up in the wall. They took a stroll to look for the house where Fran's "Granddad Tom" was born in 1876. He lived to the age of 92 and somehow managed to keep his rich Kerry accent the whole of his life, although he had left Rahela, and his five brothers and four sisters, to take the King's shilling and travel the world with the British Army in his mid-teens. Fran could still picture the old man with his gnarled walking stick, his pale eyes and trim moustache, sitting in the parlour of the small brick terraced house where he eventually settled, just round the corner from the Liverpool football ground. Stella (Brassill) WEAVER was anxious to see the strand at Kilmore, where the small River Cashen empties itself across the sands into the vast mouth of Shannon. This place held special memories of outings by donkey-cart on warm summer days, sand between the toes and salty, wet hair. They also paid a visit to a "sort of cousin" from some obscure branch of the sprawling family tree, Father Brendan QUILTER, who had spent many years as a priest in Manchester and was apparently the last living link between Stella's family across the water in England and the clans in Ireland. Virtually retired, he spends much of his time in a small cottage behind the dunes at Bann Strand. After lunch they strolled around Ardfert Cathedral, rediscovering amongst the ruins the overgrown graves of Brendan's own grandparents

A Chaide: A special thanks to IH Aideen for bringing Lady Betty to my attention. And what perfect timing for Samhain. George Lady Betty From 1780 to about 1810, the executioner at Roscommon Jail was a cold-blooded, brutal woman. Originally from Kerry, "Lady Betty" and her story have become the stuff of legend in Roscommon and the surrounding area. Her rise to infamy is the stuff Hollywood scripts are made of (back off Spielberg, I have the rights!). She was one of the most bloodthirsty and feared women in all of Irish history (even more than Mary Harney? - ed.). She moved up from Kerry to Roscommon for reasons best known to herself in the late 18th century, and lived in total poverty on the West side of the county. A single mother with a young son, she was (very unusually for the times) literate, and taught her child to read and write. She also taught him that nothing matters in the world but money. When he was old enough, this well educated urchin headed to America to seek his fortune. One night, a few years later, there was a knock on Betty's door, and a well dressed gentleman stood framed against the western weather. He asked for shelter, and, as was traditional, Betty invited him in. Here, there are two versions of the story. One says that she had been systematically butchering guests for years and taking their belongings. The other says that this was her first time performing the grisly deed. Regardless, the tall stranger was soon dispatched, and it was only when leafing through his documents that Betty discovered she had killed her own son, which naturally didn't go down too well. Betty fled in hysterics, and was soon picked up by the local constable. As a murderer, she was tranported to the prison at Roscommon town (now a shopping centre, of all things!) to be hanged. There aren't too many differences in the concept of bureacracy then and now; it got itself tied up in knots as it still tends to (I think civil servants have to take a course in fouling things up horrendously before they're allowed into the job), and there was no hangman avilable to deal with Betty and her fellow homicidal maniacs on the appointed day. As the sherrif himself was preparing to attend to the gruesome task, Betty stepped forward, looked him in the eye, and said "let me free and I'll hang them all!" The rest is, as they say, history. For the best part of the next two decades, Lady Betty as she came to be known, was chief executioner at Roscommon Jail. She lived rent free in a third floor chamber at the prison, and although she was paid no salary she loved her work and never had to worry about food. She had a very public method of haging too; a scaffold was erected right outside her window, and the unfortunate hangee had to crawl out, ready- noosed, and stand there as she pulled a lever, swinging him to kingdom come. She had a nasty habit of leaving the bodies placidly "do the pendulum thing" while she sketched them in charcoal. When she eventually died, in the first decade of the 19th century, her room was decorated with the images of the hundreds of people she had happily sent to their deaths. Thanks to the Irish Heritage Newsletter. -- Pat Connors, currently visiting Sharon Springs, NY http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

from the Irish Heritage Newsletter. So there you are walking down a lonely Irish road. It's near midnight and the full moon is casting those forever mysterious shadows in front of you. And to top it off it's Samhain. What do you do? Why you learn the below Irish phrases to help you get back to your snug turf fire. Thanks to our very own Bridget Haggerty, you'll never have to worry about those awkward moments when you come face to face with a Pooka or Banshee. For more great articles on Samhain from Bridget. Please go to. http://www.irishcultureandcustoms.com/ Word: Bat Irish: sciathán Pronunciation: shkee-hawn Word: Strange/Weird Irish: ait or aisteach Pronunciation: atch ash-thukh Word: Sinister Irish: drochtuarach Pronunciation: dhrukth-oor-ukh Word: Scare/Scared/Fright/Frightened/ Irish: scanradh/scanraithe Pronunciation: skahn-rah/skahn-rah-heh Word: Haunt/HauntedHaunting Irish: gnáthóg/gnáthaithe/dodhcarmadra Pronunciation: gnaw-hohg/gnaw-ah-heh/dudh-kahr-mah-dhrah Word: Spectre/ Bogeyman Irish: taibhseach or púca Pronunciation: thyev-shukh or pook-ah Word: Spirit Irish: anam Pronunciation: ah-nahm Word: Ghostly/spooky Irish: taibhsiúil Pronunciation: thyev-shool Word: Banshee Irish: bean sí Pronunciation: bahn-shee Word: Scream/shriek Irish: scréach Pronunciation: shkraykh Word: Howl Irish: uaill Pronunciation: oo-il Word: Moon Irish: gealach Pronunciation: gi-ahl-ukh Word: Moonlight Irish: solas gealaí Pronunciation: sol-ahs gi-ah-lee Word: Dark Irish: dorcha Pronunciation: dhur-khah Word: Shadow Irish: scáth or scáil Pronunciation: skaw or skaw-il Word: Midnight Irish: meán-oíche Pronunciation: mi-ahn- ee-heh Word: Tomb Irish: tuama Pronunciation: thoo-mah Word: Grave Irish: uaigh Pronunciation: oo-ig Word: Graveyard Irish: reilg Pronunciation: rell-ig Word: Coffin Irish: cónra Pronunciation: kohn-rah Word: Headstone Irish: cloch chinn Pronunciation: klukh kheen Word: Skeleton Irish: creatlach Pronunciation: krath-lukh Word: Monster Irish: ollphéist Pronunciation: ull-fayshth Word: Nightmare Irish: tromluí Pronunciation: thrum-lee Word: Vampire Irish: deamhan fola Pronunciation: djow-agn fulah Word: Blood Irish: foil Pronunciation: fwill Word: Werewolf Irish: coinríocht Pronunciation: kon-ree-ukth Word: Devil/Demon Irish: deabhal djowl Pronunciation: Death bás baws Word: Terror/Terrifying/Horrifying Irish: uafás/uafásach Pronunciation: oo-faws/oo-faws-ukh Word/Phrase: Spider/ Spider's Web Irish: damhán/damhán alla Pronunciation: dhow-awn ah-lah Word: Supernatural Irish: osnádúrtha Pronunciation: uss-naw-dhoor-hah Phrase: All Soul's Day Irish: Lá na Marbh Pronunciation: law nah mahrv Phrase: Will O' The Wisp Irish: tine ghealáin Pronunciation: tchin-eh yahl-aw-in Phrase: He took fright Irish: Ghlac scáth é Pronunciation: ghlahkh scaw ay Phrase: I'm frightened to death Irish: Tá scanradh m'anam orm Pronunciation: thaw skahn-rah mahn-um urm Phrase: I'm frightened of the dark Irish: Tá eagla orm roimh an ndorchadas Pronunciation: thaw ah-glah urm rev on nur-khah-dhahs Phrase: Shadow of death Irish: Scáil an bháis Pronunciation: skaw-il on wawsh Phrase: This house is haunted Irish: Tá taibhsí sa teach seo Pronunciation: thaw thyev-shee sah chi-okh shuh Phrase: She gave a howl of rage Irish: Lig sí teann feirge Pronunciation: lig she tchahn fer-ih-geh Phrase: He was as white as a sheet Irish: Bhí dath an bháis air Pronunciation: vee dhah on wawsh err -- Pat Connors, currently visiting Sharon Springs, NY http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

thanks to the Irish Heritage Newsletter. The Story Of The Jack-O'Lantern The "Jack-O'-Lantern" originated with Irish folklore. It is said it began with an Irishman named Jack, who was a stingy drunkard. Jack had the misfortune to run into the Devil in a pub. Jack had too much to drink and was about to fall into the Devil's hands, but managed to trick the Devil by offering his soul in exchange for one last drink. The Devil turned himself into a sixpence to pay the bartender, but Jack quickly placed him in his pocket. Because Jack had a silver cross in his pocket, the Devil could not change himself back. Jack would not let the Devil go until he promised not to claim his soul for ten years. The Devil agreed and ten years later Jack came across the Devil while walking on a country road. The Devil wanted to collect, but Jack, thinking quickly, said "I'll go, but before I go, will you get me an apple from that tree?" The Devil, thinking he had nothing to lose, jumped on Jack's shoulders to obtain the apple. Jack pulled out his knife and quickly carved a cross in the trunk of the tree. This left the Devil in the air, unable to obtain Jack or his soul. Jack made him promise to never again ask for his soul. Seeing no way out, the Devil agreed. When Jack finally died years later, he was not admitted to Heaven, because of his life of drinking and being tightfisted and deceitful. When he went to apply for entrance to Hell, the Devil had to turn him away because he agreed never to take Jack's soul. "But where can I go?" asked Jack. "Back where you came from!" replied the Devil. The way back was windy and dark. Jack pleaded with the Devil to at least provide him a light to find his way. The Devil, as a final gesture, threw a live coal at Jack straight from the fire of Hell. To light his way and to keep it from blowing out in the wind, Jack put it in a carved out turnip. Ever since, Jack has been doomed to wander the earth until he can find a final resting place. No one knows for certain if Jack is still roaming the earth ... -- Pat Connors, currently visiting Sharon Springs, NY http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

Thanks again to the Irish Heritage Newsletter. The Samhain Parshell The Parshell is an important Irish craft as it is the cross which keeps the evil spirits away from your door on Samhain (Halloween) and keeps the barn animals safe the year round. While you want to welcome the good spirits that walk the earth at Samhain you want to be sure to guard against the bad spirits or the spirits of you enemies! So get the Parshell made and on your door right away! Materials: 1. Two sticks- 1-2 feet long.about 1/2 inch diameter at most. 2. Tape or string to tie the sticks together. 3. Wheaten straw, similar plant material or paper twist (I use green,purple and tan colored twist). Instructions: 1. Fasten the two sticks together securely at right angles to form a cross.(use tape or string) 2. If using twist -untwist it and flatten it out but not too flat-it should resemble corn stalk/husk. 3. Attach twist or stalks to underside of one of the sticks or if using straw: wedge it under one and over the other stick starting in the center. 4. Moving clockwise weave the twist or straw over one stick and under the next going around the cross. Stop before you get to the ends of the sticks- a few inches of stick should be exposed. 5. If using twist try to use two or three colors attaching one to the next as you go. Now you have your Parshell What do you do with it? On Oct. 31 make the Parshell and place it over the front doorway on the inside. The powers to ward off ill-luck sickness, and witchcraft and evil spirits only lasts one year. You can only make a new one on Oct.31. When you take the old one down you must take care to shout: Fonstarenheehy. Take the old one out and put it in the barn or garage over the car as its power is still good to help the animals and perhaps even protect the car in the new year. Once you get your Parshell up you can carve your turnip head! Source:Kevin Danaher, The Year in Ireland To view photo's of a completed Parshell go to http://www.bcpl.net/~hutmanpr/parshal.html <http://www.bcpl.net/%7Ehutmanpr/parshal.html> -- Pat Connors, currently visiting Sharon Springs, NY http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

Thanks to the Irish Heritage Newsletter.... Recipe for Barmbrack Bread Ná mól an t-arán go mbruithear é. (Don't praise the bread until it is baked) IH member Jean has sent out this recipe and interesting story about Barmbrack Bread Perhaps the most distinctive cake is the Barmbrack. It is the only surviving example of the use of yeast in our traditional cooking. In the earlly days of the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, Lady Gregory would always arrive from Coole Park, her home in County Galway with a barmbrack in her holdall. It was custom for her to preside at tea in the Green Room surrounded by writers and actors; W.B. Yeats, J.M. Synge, Lennox Robinson, Sean O'Casey and a supporting cast that included Barry Fitzgerald, Arthur Shields, Sara Allgood, Maire O'Neill, and a host of others who later went on to make international reputations in the Theatre. This Barmbrack Bread became affectionately known as the Gort Cake. A Barmbrack is a light, yeasty, fruitcake that is always sliced and spread with butter before eating. At Hallow's Eve (October 31) the Barmbrack is baked with a wedding ring wrapped in paper and mixed into the dough. If your slice of Barmbrack contains the wedding ring, you will be engaged before the year is out. BARMBRACK BREAD 4 cups flour. 2 eggs. Well beaten 1/4 teasp. nutmeg. l 1/2 cups sultana raisins. pinch of salt 1cup currants 2 Tablespoon Butter 1/3rd.cup chpped candied peel. 1 cake yeast (3/4 ounce) 2 Tablespoons sugar l 1/4 cups milk. Sift Flour and nutmeg together. Rub butter into the flour. Cream the yeast in a cup with a teaspoon of sugar. Add the rest of the sugar to the flour mixture and mix well.Warm the milk to body temperature. Add tothe liquid yeast and most of the well beaten eggs. Beat the liquid ingredients into the dry ingredients until the batter is stiff but elastic. Fold in the raisins, currants and fruit peel. Turn into an 8 inch x 4 inch deep cake pan so that the dough only fills half the pan. Cover with a cloth and leave to rise for about an hour or until it doubles in size. Brush the top with a little of the beaten eggs to give a glaze. Bake at 400 for approx. 1 hour, or until a skewer pushed into center of cake comes out clean. -- Pat Connors, currently visiting Sharon Springs, NY http://www.connorsgenealogy.com

THE FISHERMAN Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes To a grey place on a hill In grey Connemara clothes At dawn to cast his flies, It's long since I began To call up to the eyes This wise and simple man. All day I'd look in the face What I had hoped 'twould be To write for my own race And the reality; The living men that I hate, The dead man that I loved, The craven man in his seat, The insolent unreproved, And no knave brought to book Who had won a drunken cheer, The witty man and his joke Aimed at the commonest ear, The clever man who cries The catch-cries of the clown, The beating down of the wise And great Art beaten down. Maybe a twelvemonth since Suddenly I began In scorn of this audience, Imagining a man, And his sun-freckled face, And grey Connemara cloth, Climbing up to a place Where stone is dark under froth, And the down-turn of his wrist When the flies drop in the stream; A man who does not exist, A man who is but a dream; And cried, "Before I am old I shall have written him one Poem maybe as cold And passionate as the dawn." -- William Butler Yeats (1916) Note - Connemara is an area in Co. Galway, Connemara cloth is a rough tweed.

REMEMBERING CON MARKIEVICZ Child running wild in woods of Lissadell: Young lady from the Big House, seen In a flowered dress, gathering wild flowers: Ascendancy queen Of hunts, house-parties, practical jokes -- who could foretell (Oh fiery shade, impetuous bone) Where all was regular, self-sufficient, gay Their lovely hoyden lost in a nation's heroine? Laughterless now the sweet demesne, And the gaunt house looks blank on Sligo Bay A nest decayed, an eagle flown. The Paris studio, your playboy Count Were not enough, nor Castle splendour And fame of horsemanship. You were the tinder Waiting a match, a runner tuned for the pistol's sound, Impatient shade, long-suffering bone. In a Balally cottage you found a store Of Sinn Fein papers. You read -- maybe the old sheets can while The time. The flash lights up a whole Ireland which you have never known before, A nest betrayed, its eagles gone. The road to Connolly and Stephen's Green Showed clear. The great heart which defied Irish prejudice, English snipers, died A little not have shared a grave with the fourteen. Oh fiery shade, intransigent bone! And when the Treaty emptied the British jails, A haggard woman returned and Dublin went wild to greet her. But still it was not enough: an iota Of compromise, she cried, and the Cause fails. Nest disarrayed, eagles undone. Fanatic, bad actress, figure of fun -- She was called each. Ever she dreamed, Fought, suffered for a losing side, it seemed (The side which always at last is seen to have won), Oh fiery shade and unvexed bone. Remember a heart impulsive, gay and tender, Still to an ideal Ireland and its real poor alive. When she died in a pauper bed, in love All the poor of Dublin rose to lament her. A nest is made, an eagle flown. -- C. Day-Lewis, late poet laureate of England Note - Lovely Constance Gore-Booth (Countess Markievicz) the eldest daughter of an Anglo-Irish baronet, had been privately educated at Lissadell, the family home in Co. Sligo. She was presented at Court in 1887 and was thoroughly at home in the world of balls. Then in 1900 she married a Polish Count, settled in Dublin in 1903 and began to move towards feminism, socialism and extreme nationalism, much to the distress of early admirers such as Yeats. In the 1916 rising she fought with the Irish Citizen Army and initially was condemned to death. In the 1918 General Election she became the first woman MP but declined to take her seat, in accordance with Sinn Fein policy. Imprisoned again during the war of independence, "the rebel countess" completed her long journey from her background by branding the Anglo-Irish treaty of 1921 a betrayal of republican hopes.

SNIPPET: The Irish presence in Manchester is older than the 1800s, but it was early 19th century improvements in ships and increasing rivalry between steamship companies which drove down fares and led to a massive jump in the number of Irish migrants living in England. A peak was reached in 1861, when 806,000 people of Irish birth were living in England. Almost half of these lived in Lancashire and Cheshire. The 1851 census shows that 13% of the population of Manchester and Salford was Irish born. Liverpool apart, there was no city in England more Irish. The suffering of the Irish continued in England where the Irish in Manchester faced considerable hostility and hardship. "Little Ireland" came to represent all the evils of a modern industrial society. Despite this they gradually established themselves as a permanent feature of the developing city, while managing to retain their distinctive culture and identity. Many of the most damaging slurs made against them were groundless and despite official endorsement of popular prejudices the potency of these slurs diminished as the turn of the century approached. Those who had arrived in the 1847-51 period, victims of the Great Hunger and its deadly fallout of disease and evictions, were largely rural in origin and totally destitute. Half a million of those coming through Liverpool during this period were paupers who were met with fear and hostility. To meet the needs of this influx, an additional poor rate burden was imposed on householders, causing considerable resentment among the comfortable middle classes. Many indigenous workers saw the Irish as a threat to their wage rates, as it was widely believed that the Irish were prepared to work for less than the going rate. Although typhus was raging in the English cities, there was a popular perception that this was "Irish fever." In 1847, an outbreak of cholera similarly decimated the slum population and fixed in the popular psyche the image of the Irish as the bearers of poverty and death. The concentration of Irish immigrants in certain areas of the city was seen as a sinister development. Nothing did more to fix the nation of the teeming Irish ghetto in the popular mind than "Little Ireland," Manchester. It had a population of 2,000 and was made famous by J. P. KAY's pamphlet, published in 1832, the year of the great cholera epidemic in which he graphically described the part of Manchester inhabited by the Irish: "A portion of low, swampy ground, liable to be frequently inundated, and to constant exhalation, is included between a high bank over which the Oxford Road passes, and a bend of the river Medlock, where its course is impeded by a weir. This unhealthy spot lies so low that t! he chimneys of its houses, some of them three storeys high, are a little above the level of the road. About two hundred of these habitations are crowded together in an extremely narrow space, and are chiefly inhabited by the lowest Irish." He goes on to describe dwellings in which the ceilings are black with cockroaches. Cellars house as many as could find s! pace on the fetid straw which covered the floor. Friedrich ENGELS visited the twelve years later, in 1844, when researching for "Condition of the Working Class in England." He found it no better. "About four thousand human beings, most of them Irish live there. The cottages are old, dirty and of the meanest sort, the streets uneven, fallen into ruts and in parts without drains or pavements; masses of refuse, offal and sickening filth lie among the standing pools in all directions; the atmosphere is poisoned by the effluvia from these and laden and darkened by the smoke of a dozen tall factory chimneys. A horde of ragged women and children swarm about there, as filthy as the swine that thrive upon the garbage heaps and in the puddles...such a hateful and repulsive spectacle as can hardly be equalled." KAY's description of "Little Ireland" so resonated with fear and revulsion that few social commentators could resist its power. It captured the quintessential dread evoked by the alien Irish hordes, who came to embody all the problems of the burgeoning industrial cities. An analysis of court records later, however, while showing a disproportionate number of minor offenses committed by Irish immigrants, did not apply to more serious offenses. There is a lot of evidence to suggest that the strong Irish sense of community posed a number of problems for the Manchester Constabulary. The police were seen as enemies and it was common for those who found themselves in "Little Ireland," or "Angel's Meadow," as it was incongruously named, to be attacked. The Irish had a reputation for resisting arrest, almost as a matter of principle, and would, in the words of one police witness, struggle until the shirt had been torn from their backs. By this time a crowd of locals would have ! gathered and mobilized to act in support of their countrymen. Anti-Irish bigotry and anti-Catholicism were commonplace among all strata of English society. Around the mid-century these prejudices were more frequently expressed in public disorder directed against the Irish community. The restoration of the Catholic hierarchy in England and Wales led to an outpouring of anti-Catholic hysteria and the cry of "No Popery." (In reference to the Pope). Catholic churches in Stockport, a town outside Manchester with a substantial Irish population were destroyed in anti-Catholic rioting. The findings of the 1836 Royal Commission suggests that the Irish were in the forefront of trade union activity and conspicuously active in all the major building disputes in Manchester from 1833 to 1870. The records of the Manchester Bricklayers Labourers' Union confirms this. In 1856, it had 900 members, organized into nine lodges. All the officials were Irish, as were the great majority of members. The Union's activities seem to have been fully integrated into the life of the community, for its trustee and treasurer was Canon TOOLE, parish priest of St. Wilfred's, Hulme, an area to the south of the city centre with a sizeable Irish community. At the end of 1867, an attempt by the Fenians to blow up part of the prison wall in Clerkenwell Jail, London, led to the deaths of innocent people. A newspaper cartoon appeared depicted a demented-looking Irishman lighting a barrel of gunpowder in the midst of women of children. Bottom line - The suffering Irish in England brought with them a strong tradition of cooperation which ultimately gave rise to a culture in which cooperative self-reliance was a significant feature. -- Excerpts, Cork's "Irish Roots" magazine