Going up?

Well this is Sheffield - lots of ups and downs. Seems like more UPs but that's not possible. However, this evening I found a flat area. For about 200 yards, as a reward for walking up a 45 degree hill for several minutes, there was a street on which you could actually stand with both feet at the same altitude, no matter which way you turned.

Last part of the walk into town - Sunday evening after arrival; train station at the bottom of the steps

Anyone for the cholera monument?

you have to go up, to later go down, and then up again - repeat repeat

the holly and the ivy

From the hilly area where I've been staying, in a wonderful Victorian house with loads of atmosphere and the highest ceilings I've ever seen, it's about a 20 minute walk into town. There are plenty of modern buildings, as you see, many of which seem to be part of the university. Here and there however, are old spires poking through to remind you that the history of this place is much older than Canada. The spires are a nice contrast to the glass and bricks, and especially to a building I've yet to identify. I can't decide whether it looks more like a modern tea kettle or a giant curling rock with a sort of spout for a handle.  It is situated among so many other buildings I have not had a good angle for a picture. Tomorrow, if the weather is nice, while I'm biding my time before the train to Leeds, I might try to find a good angle. Actually there are four of these "handle tops" on the one building and you might see them in the centre of the picture of the stairs down to the train station (below).

Can you spot any of the church spires? They seem to have disappeared.

Tudor style building is The Howard - a pub where I ate on Monday 

Taken near the archives - that green hill in the distance is where the steps are

going down is easy - in the morning - when you are not tired; try them at 6 pm going the other way!

The pictures I took don't really do this place justice. It seemed wrong somehow to take pictures of the interesting homes along the route that leads me to and from the archives. There are very stately old homes of stone. Whether the stone was always darkish, or became so with the ravages of time, I don't know. Some of these places are very large - and all are behind stone walls. What is it with Britain and Ireland that everyone's land is surrounded by walls? They do make nice backdrops for gardens so maybe that's it - something for ivy, clematis and other plants to grow on might be their purpose.

There are also 'row houses' of various sorts. One string of these homes seemed to be hexagonal, joined on one surface and kind of winding a bit. I can only wonder at the shapes of the rooms inside. I do seem to be passing the most interesting homes when it's too dark to take pictures. In the morning it's all business en route into town. Coming home it's already dark and the winding path through the woods that is so lovely at 9 am, is not where I want to go at 6 when it's dark.

Walking into town this morning - somewhat later than yesterday I must confess - I stopped a couple of times to enjoy the view. I love overlooking the city from the cholera monument and hadn't realized how old the monument itself was. Sadly the signs around it have been vandalized. Here's a link to some info for those so inclined. I personally have never seen a monument to an illness. In all fairness, it is to honour those who died of cholera in 1832.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cholera_Monument_Grounds_and_Clay_Wood

The winding paths provide a nice start to the day and in the morning I do take the route by the monument. This morning I noticed that the abandoned jeans and jacket that were covered with frost yesterday had disappeared. I wonder if the owner returned for them - re-materializing out of the mist perhaps - or if someone had picked them up and disposed of them. I'll never know.

Nearby were some daffodils on the verge of blooming. This is February but it's not Ottawa in February, so daffodils are free to bloom without having to wait until the snow disappears and the ground thaws. There is no snow and the ground is not frozen. Chalk one up for the Brits and their damp weather.



Finally caught up with photos so hope you enjoyed them.


Genealogy alert - you can stop reading now.

The main purpose of my visit to Sheffield was to review manuscripts from the Fitzwilliam Estate, home of Arthur Byrne and family in County Wicklow. Their landlord was a Yorkshire man and his papers are held here. Unfortunately the rental records, which were kept annually, only included the head tenants and not the sub-tenants, among whom Arthur was counted, or rather, ignored.

Plots of land up to several hundred acres, and down to a "cabbin and garden" could be rented from the English landlord of Malton Estate, later known as Coolattin. The leases were held for "lives". Signing the lease included specifying the duration would include the life of a designated, and usually younger, person. They all started on Lady Day, 25 March, and ended usually twenty to thirty years later. Rent was due twice a year and seemed to be fixed for the duration of the lease.

Arthur never climbed the ladder to head tenant, having a lease in his name. Another interesting thing to note is that any time a tenant was Roman Catholic it was noted in the lease. There were not many such notes. There were also not many Byrnes, despite the fact that it is about the most common surname in Wicklow.

While Arthur was living in Coolross/Coolruss, his direct landlord had the surname James. That family had been on the estate for a very long time. There were however, two Byrnes that had leases at Coolruss (sic) - one was Charles Byrne and later a John Byrne acquired a lease on part of the land previously held by Charles. I don't recall if they were related. Are we related to either of them? I don't know. I do know that there was nobody named Charles in our line so that makes him an unlikely ancestor. My own branch from Arthur, did not have any sons named John, but the branch from Michael Byrne - a relative at Coolruss - continues to use the name John.

I made notes and took photos of records which seemed likely to have some relevance to our family history. I have yet to sort them out - that pleasure remains on the agenda once I'm back at Moss Cottage. Even if the internet connection remains troublesome - oh please, don't be troublesome - I can work with these offline.

There is one tantalizing reference to Arthur Byrnes - yes, there was an 's' but I'm not sure it was accurately recorded. The name is never spelt with an 's' in Wicklow. This fellow had built or rather restored/renovated/fixed a house where his mother Mary was living, and was asking compensation from Earl Fitzwilliam. He got half a year's rent free instead. My Arthur would have been only a teenager at the time. Is it likely that, despite him being a carpenter in later years, such a young man would have done that job? Could it have been the father of my guy? What makes it totally questionable is that it was not at Coolross, but a few miles away. But that was the only appearance of the name Arthur.

I did however, find the year in which Mary Abraham signed a lease at Monahullen (insert here your favourite spelling for that townland. The variations are endless). They were the first Abraham family I encountered. For a while I kept thinking I'd found very early records of the Abrahams. However, when I woke up and smelled the coffee, Abraham was a first name, not a surname.

Reading the Memoranda books - about 30 years worth - was interesting. I didn't have time to linger and read all of the entries. I browsed for names of people and townlands and was usually disappointed at the lack of results - i.e. what I was seeking.

So, once back on Irish soil I will have my work cut out to see if anything I found proves to be at all useful. I do know that I'd like to spend more time in England. However, it is very much more expensive here than in Ireland. I have not shopped for anything but meals so can't comment on souvenirs or clothing, but feeding oneself sure eats into the budget - pardon the pun.

Time to call it a day. Next report from Ireland.