Well here it is Labour Day weekend. Someone seems to have flipped the weather switch along with the turn of the calendar to September. It's not nearly so hot and the nights are quite chilly. This is my perfect weather and I hope it lasts.
My duties on the ladies golf executive at Hylands have taken over much of my free time. I'm enjoying it a lot but not getting any genealogy time at all. Next weekend is the conference for my family history association. I had signed up for the two days - Saturday and Sunday - but now my duties will keep me busy on Sunday at the Williams Cup competition at Hylands.
On Thursday evening I, along with many conference attendees, will go to a reception at the Irish embassy. This was a huge success at the conference I missed in 2013 so I'm really looking forward to it. I suspect that I'll need to haul a dress out of the back of the closet.
On Friday I will pick up one of the featured speakers at the airport, which is just minutes from my place, and take him to his hotel. The following Monday we will reverse that route. I'll miss his talk on Sunday so perhaps can persuade him to fill me in a little on the way to the airport.
One reason I'd like to hear it is that it deals with little known sources for Irish research and my plans for the winter in Ireland are making slow progress. If he can point me in some new directions I'll be all ears.
The weather is perfect this weekend and I have a game scheduled for Monday morning. Deep down I just know that I'll be off to the course either today or tomorrow as well.
In a short time I'm off to the post office to mail my passport application, including my current almost-expired passport. It's supposed to take less than 2 weeks so we'll see. In the meantime I can't make any last minute trips to Ogdensburg, NY as my ID will be in the hands of the Feds.
I'm also posting a little package of my favourite children's books to Mairead (Byrne) Parsons at the Rocktavern, Co. Wexford. Her third child is expected in a few weeks. Michael is now in first grade and Tom is off to play school. I think that will give Mairead upwards of three weeks of quiet days until the bump becomes the baby.
Having said very little, it's time to get on with the day and accomplish something. A walk to the post office will start me off and I'll just let the day unfold.
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Sunday August 14, 2016
I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post. Well here I am - wandering again. This post is coming from near Edmundston, New Brunswick. I've lost an hour but from the look of this hotel room I've actually gone back several decades. I made the booking on Trivago for the Rose Motel. The name alone should have given me a good clue and in fact it did. However, for some reason everything is very expensive here so I took the cheapest option. And, you get what you pay for. Even if you pay too much.
I had a bedspread similar to these in the early 70s. I think these have been around that long too. Good thing I prefer a shower to a bath - the tub is so short I could never unbend my knees if I managed to get in at all. Ah well, it seems quite clean and there is wifi. I was first offered a room "at the back overlooking the river". Well, being alone I prefer a "room at the front". When I asked about wifi and found out that the original room didn't have it, I said that was not acceptable. Hence, this room. It's only one night and I anticipate surviving.
This journey to the Halifax area to visit with high school friends began somewhat later than I had planned but there's really no rush to the trip. At 9:30 I departed my place and arrived here about 6 pm which instantly became 7 pm as I'm now in the Atlantic time zone.
The drive from Ottawa to Montreal was uneventful. Following carefully the instructions to get to Route 30 and avoid going through Montreal, I just sailed along, stopping only to pay the toll. It's well worth the $2.50 to NOT visit the city. Anyway I was so enjoying the road that I missed the exit for Highway 20, but I'm ahead of myself.
My pursuit in genealogy is pretty much restricted to my Irish ancestors. The French line is well known and I found it already completed, rather than having to figure it all out myself. Verification of records has proven that the original research was excellent. I did sort through it for a few generations and discovered an Irish woman who had married a French Canadian man. Bridget Loughnane married Jean Baptiste Hebert at Ste Martine, Quebec which is quite close to Montreal. Well, to my surprise the first exit off Route 30 was to Ste Martine. I didn't take it but at least I know where to go if I decide to explore that area. Bridget married, had a son, and died a year later at a very young age. My memory did not store the particulars but we're talking about 1834 ish. My best guess is that she died in childbirth with a second child, but there's nothing to support my theory other than it was very common.
Anyway I sailed by Ste Martine and the next exit was for St Constant - another place notable in my French line. A few more familiar places followed. What is a bit annoying about all this is I lived in that general area for 7 years, 1974 - 1981, long before I started to do genealogy. If only I had known at the time. Of course I've made a mental note that a two hour drive could net me a lot of tombstone photos but the trip remains unplanned.
So, merrily I went down the highway listening to music and enjoying the limited traffic and great speed at which one could progress. Oops - just roared past the exit to Highway 20 towards Quebec City which was a milestone on the journey. I figured (wrongly) that another opportunity to exit would come along. Hah! So, I asked the GPS for assistance and she directed me to St Marc sur Richelieu where I enjoyed the drive through farmland and past Les Trois Tilleuls, a restaurant that I'd once visited about 35 years ago. Eventually I got to Beloeil and a ramp to the 20. I was once again on track.
At this point I set the GPS to my ultimate destination which is outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia. All was well as I noted the route she/it? had planned. There was an exit just at Quebec City, or more precisely Levis, as I was on the south shore. Naturally I turned as directed, completely forgetting that the correct route took me via Riviere-du-Loup a couple more hours ahead. Just as I took the prescribed exit the GPS screen momentarily went black but then came back on. Hint number 1 that all was not well.
Still, I decided to keep driving along the route waiting for the GPS to respond. Suddenly there was a message on screen that it could not calculate the route. What??? I continued to follow route 73 for a bit when I realized it was taking me to Maine. Nice state, but not the route I wanted. Sigh!
So I found the map of Quebec and verified that indeed I needed to go as far as Riviere-du-loup before heading south into New Brunswick. I tried to reset the GPS which now said that it was 8590 KMs to my destination. What??? It's really about 500 kms. I turned the GPS off and on. Same thing. Plus it said it could not calculate the route. It had the right address but still said I had 8500+ kms to go. This was nuts.
I re-set the thing for Riviere-du-Loup and continued on my way - still on Route 20. Eventually the signs indicated that I was properly on track for New Brunswick so I was happy. I stopped for a break and once again entered my ultimate destination. This time the dumb machine gave up its obstinate position that it was thousands of kms away and got it right. Ta-da.
By about 6 pm I really was tired of being in the car so I took the exit for the motel I had booked just before leaving home this morning. I had not been able to program that into the GPS - stupid dumb piece of technology. I stopped for gas and the attendant (yes an attendant who actually pumped the gas for me) gave me directions. They were wrong. I think this place is in a time warp. I'm not quite in Edmundston, I'm in St Jacques which is just outside the city. I paid for the gas and followed the directions which took me to the Ritz Motel. As it happens it was really only marginally nicer than the Rose Motel. Deciding to follow the main street of St Jacques a little farther in the way I had first taken, I eventually found the Rose, and here I am.
The motel owner gave me directions to Station 127 - although she said Station 126 - which is a restaurant a few kms away. It was very nice and I enjoyed my grilled salmon and a glass of wine. Now, I'm settled in my modest accommodations and just catching up with my online life before settling in with my book and then hopefully an early and sound sleep. Tomorrow I think I'll drive a bit before stopping somewhere for breakfast.
This time tomorrow I expect to be relaxing with Sharon and Bob Power at their cottage outside of Halifax. Not sure when the next episode from the Wandering Genealogist will materialize.
For now, Good Night.
I didn't realize it had been so long since my last post. Well here I am - wandering again. This post is coming from near Edmundston, New Brunswick. I've lost an hour but from the look of this hotel room I've actually gone back several decades. I made the booking on Trivago for the Rose Motel. The name alone should have given me a good clue and in fact it did. However, for some reason everything is very expensive here so I took the cheapest option. And, you get what you pay for. Even if you pay too much.
I had a bedspread similar to these in the early 70s. I think these have been around that long too. Good thing I prefer a shower to a bath - the tub is so short I could never unbend my knees if I managed to get in at all. Ah well, it seems quite clean and there is wifi. I was first offered a room "at the back overlooking the river". Well, being alone I prefer a "room at the front". When I asked about wifi and found out that the original room didn't have it, I said that was not acceptable. Hence, this room. It's only one night and I anticipate surviving.
This journey to the Halifax area to visit with high school friends began somewhat later than I had planned but there's really no rush to the trip. At 9:30 I departed my place and arrived here about 6 pm which instantly became 7 pm as I'm now in the Atlantic time zone.
The drive from Ottawa to Montreal was uneventful. Following carefully the instructions to get to Route 30 and avoid going through Montreal, I just sailed along, stopping only to pay the toll. It's well worth the $2.50 to NOT visit the city. Anyway I was so enjoying the road that I missed the exit for Highway 20, but I'm ahead of myself.
My pursuit in genealogy is pretty much restricted to my Irish ancestors. The French line is well known and I found it already completed, rather than having to figure it all out myself. Verification of records has proven that the original research was excellent. I did sort through it for a few generations and discovered an Irish woman who had married a French Canadian man. Bridget Loughnane married Jean Baptiste Hebert at Ste Martine, Quebec which is quite close to Montreal. Well, to my surprise the first exit off Route 30 was to Ste Martine. I didn't take it but at least I know where to go if I decide to explore that area. Bridget married, had a son, and died a year later at a very young age. My memory did not store the particulars but we're talking about 1834 ish. My best guess is that she died in childbirth with a second child, but there's nothing to support my theory other than it was very common.
Anyway I sailed by Ste Martine and the next exit was for St Constant - another place notable in my French line. A few more familiar places followed. What is a bit annoying about all this is I lived in that general area for 7 years, 1974 - 1981, long before I started to do genealogy. If only I had known at the time. Of course I've made a mental note that a two hour drive could net me a lot of tombstone photos but the trip remains unplanned.
So, merrily I went down the highway listening to music and enjoying the limited traffic and great speed at which one could progress. Oops - just roared past the exit to Highway 20 towards Quebec City which was a milestone on the journey. I figured (wrongly) that another opportunity to exit would come along. Hah! So, I asked the GPS for assistance and she directed me to St Marc sur Richelieu where I enjoyed the drive through farmland and past Les Trois Tilleuls, a restaurant that I'd once visited about 35 years ago. Eventually I got to Beloeil and a ramp to the 20. I was once again on track.
At this point I set the GPS to my ultimate destination which is outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia. All was well as I noted the route she/it? had planned. There was an exit just at Quebec City, or more precisely Levis, as I was on the south shore. Naturally I turned as directed, completely forgetting that the correct route took me via Riviere-du-Loup a couple more hours ahead. Just as I took the prescribed exit the GPS screen momentarily went black but then came back on. Hint number 1 that all was not well.
Still, I decided to keep driving along the route waiting for the GPS to respond. Suddenly there was a message on screen that it could not calculate the route. What??? I continued to follow route 73 for a bit when I realized it was taking me to Maine. Nice state, but not the route I wanted. Sigh!
So I found the map of Quebec and verified that indeed I needed to go as far as Riviere-du-loup before heading south into New Brunswick. I tried to reset the GPS which now said that it was 8590 KMs to my destination. What??? It's really about 500 kms. I turned the GPS off and on. Same thing. Plus it said it could not calculate the route. It had the right address but still said I had 8500+ kms to go. This was nuts.
I re-set the thing for Riviere-du-Loup and continued on my way - still on Route 20. Eventually the signs indicated that I was properly on track for New Brunswick so I was happy. I stopped for a break and once again entered my ultimate destination. This time the dumb machine gave up its obstinate position that it was thousands of kms away and got it right. Ta-da.
By about 6 pm I really was tired of being in the car so I took the exit for the motel I had booked just before leaving home this morning. I had not been able to program that into the GPS - stupid dumb piece of technology. I stopped for gas and the attendant (yes an attendant who actually pumped the gas for me) gave me directions. They were wrong. I think this place is in a time warp. I'm not quite in Edmundston, I'm in St Jacques which is just outside the city. I paid for the gas and followed the directions which took me to the Ritz Motel. As it happens it was really only marginally nicer than the Rose Motel. Deciding to follow the main street of St Jacques a little farther in the way I had first taken, I eventually found the Rose, and here I am.
The motel owner gave me directions to Station 127 - although she said Station 126 - which is a restaurant a few kms away. It was very nice and I enjoyed my grilled salmon and a glass of wine. Now, I'm settled in my modest accommodations and just catching up with my online life before settling in with my book and then hopefully an early and sound sleep. Tomorrow I think I'll drive a bit before stopping somewhere for breakfast.
This time tomorrow I expect to be relaxing with Sharon and Bob Power at their cottage outside of Halifax. Not sure when the next episode from the Wandering Genealogist will materialize.
For now, Good Night.
Friday, July 8, 2016
Friday July 8, 2016
It's overcast and I hope it rains. This will of course spoil my golf game but I'll sacrifice for the sake of some moisture for the soil.
Of course I have been immersing myself in the depths of newspapers.com and I must say I'm getting my money's worth. I think there must be better ways to search and as usual, not everything that is in the articles can actually be found in a search. Sometimes there are teasers and I can't get to the depth that I want. For example, there was a brief article that my great-grandfather, who was an alderman in Ottawa at that time, was bereaved. His older brother John who had moved to California, had died in an accident. No further information was available at that moment. Well, I don't know if further information was ever published but I certainly can't find it.
There are many newspapers in the database but I can't find one for Riverside, CA. I'm sure that the local newspaper would have covered an accidental death. John McGrath was a prominent builder whose arts and crafts style homes still look as good as the day he built them. I'm considering an appeal to the Southern California Genealogy Society to see if anyone there has access to a Riverside newspaper for the appropriate time period.
Now that it seems likely that there will be a visit next summer from our California connection, I think that I'll have to make a greater effort to find more McGraths in the Ottawa area. Party time! I will of course have my scanner on hand in hopes that people bring along family pictures - labelled!
Some days I'm torn between doing something useful - like housework - and digging deeper into the family roots. There are lots of resources that put context around the lives of our ancestors and it's interesting to think about what life was like for them. I sure wish they'd had cameras and a penchant for using them. With the paucity of photos my guess is that friends took pictures and gave copies to my rellies. I suppose that a huge bounty of pictures would just mean more work dealing with them. Imagine what future generations are going to think with all the digital images we have now.
Well, on with the day. I have to accomplish something!
It's overcast and I hope it rains. This will of course spoil my golf game but I'll sacrifice for the sake of some moisture for the soil.
Of course I have been immersing myself in the depths of newspapers.com and I must say I'm getting my money's worth. I think there must be better ways to search and as usual, not everything that is in the articles can actually be found in a search. Sometimes there are teasers and I can't get to the depth that I want. For example, there was a brief article that my great-grandfather, who was an alderman in Ottawa at that time, was bereaved. His older brother John who had moved to California, had died in an accident. No further information was available at that moment. Well, I don't know if further information was ever published but I certainly can't find it.
There are many newspapers in the database but I can't find one for Riverside, CA. I'm sure that the local newspaper would have covered an accidental death. John McGrath was a prominent builder whose arts and crafts style homes still look as good as the day he built them. I'm considering an appeal to the Southern California Genealogy Society to see if anyone there has access to a Riverside newspaper for the appropriate time period.
Now that it seems likely that there will be a visit next summer from our California connection, I think that I'll have to make a greater effort to find more McGraths in the Ottawa area. Party time! I will of course have my scanner on hand in hopes that people bring along family pictures - labelled!
Some days I'm torn between doing something useful - like housework - and digging deeper into the family roots. There are lots of resources that put context around the lives of our ancestors and it's interesting to think about what life was like for them. I sure wish they'd had cameras and a penchant for using them. With the paucity of photos my guess is that friends took pictures and gave copies to my rellies. I suppose that a huge bounty of pictures would just mean more work dealing with them. Imagine what future generations are going to think with all the digital images we have now.
Well, on with the day. I have to accomplish something!
Thursday, July 7, 2016
Thursday July 7, 2016
Eureka!
I had signed up for a two week free trial of newspapers.com and forgot to cancel. So, I'm stuck with the subscription. Well it has turned out to be a little goldmine of information. A couple of mysteries already solved.
I guess that "back in the day" pretty much everything made the news. The cities were small and everyone seems to have known everyone else. I'd been spending a little time on the McGrath line as I've been trying to write my grandmother's story. Her name was Agnes McGrath and she kept that until she married. Then she became "Mrs Harry Sunderland". I'm so glad we've moved beyond having your identity depend on your spouse.
Even when she was young she led a pretty anonymous life. Her father was a city alderman for many years and he made the news a lot - mostly for pretty mundane things. The big story was the drowning of Aggie's two brothers, Frank and Allen along with Gordie Belot, the fiance of her sister Elena. Aggie was interviewed by the newspaper as she was the one who had found their boat floating upside down. Their parents were in Montreal at the time and came home by train when they got the news. That must have been a very difficult journey.
The Ottawa Journal of the time gave it extensive coverage and it seems to have been the beginning of a series of family losses. This was the greatest blow and severely affected the health of both parents. They died within four years of this loss. Aggie also lost her husband within a year of losing both parents.
But I digress. Some of the McGraths emigrated to Riverside California. They were a mysterious lot to me but Aggie kept up a correspondence with her cousin Kate who was the oldest of the children who set out for California with her parents. Kate's father John was a master carpenter. He apparently made his fortune building crates for the citrus industry. Later he was known as a master carpenter who built a number of beautiful homes in the arts and crafts style. The family home was built in 1911 and is still in perfect condition. It is a lovely home by any definition.
John was the oldest of 11 children and one of his brothers followed him. I had found the baptism of Michael but then he seemed to disappear. It seems that he followed John to California following a bout of typhoid. I guess I'll have to see what I can find about typhoid in Ottawa in the late 19th century. He had not really recovered when he traveled cross-border and cross-country. My guess is that he went by train, but who knows?
Anyway, in the Ottawa Journal of January 24th 1893, was a short article saying that Michael had died 21 months after arriving in California. His occupation was given as 'stair builder'. I suppose that fit very well with his brother's work. Michael was only 34 years old. Of course all this happened between censuses and little other information has come to light.
When I was in California visiting descendants of John McGrath, we went to Evergreen cemetery in Riverside. We found the graves of John and his wife Johanna and nearby was one for Michael. I had thought it was possibly John's brother but had no documentation. Now we know.
What is still a mystery is that the name of a little girl named Annie is also on Michael's stone. Michael was not married and had never had children. John had no child named Annie. This is another path to go down some day.
Another article appeared in the Ottawa Journal when John passed away in Riverside. Apparently his death was as a result of an accident. Something else to investigate. So far I have not found any newspapers from Riverside but one day the answer will turn up. Perhaps there was a later article in the Ottawa paper. This one had shown up as related to Alderman E.P. McGrath. I guess it's good to be prominent. Details as I find them.
It's brutally hot these days so I will likely stay indoors and keep digging for information. More to follow.
Eureka!
I had signed up for a two week free trial of newspapers.com and forgot to cancel. So, I'm stuck with the subscription. Well it has turned out to be a little goldmine of information. A couple of mysteries already solved.
I guess that "back in the day" pretty much everything made the news. The cities were small and everyone seems to have known everyone else. I'd been spending a little time on the McGrath line as I've been trying to write my grandmother's story. Her name was Agnes McGrath and she kept that until she married. Then she became "Mrs Harry Sunderland". I'm so glad we've moved beyond having your identity depend on your spouse.
Even when she was young she led a pretty anonymous life. Her father was a city alderman for many years and he made the news a lot - mostly for pretty mundane things. The big story was the drowning of Aggie's two brothers, Frank and Allen along with Gordie Belot, the fiance of her sister Elena. Aggie was interviewed by the newspaper as she was the one who had found their boat floating upside down. Their parents were in Montreal at the time and came home by train when they got the news. That must have been a very difficult journey.
The Ottawa Journal of the time gave it extensive coverage and it seems to have been the beginning of a series of family losses. This was the greatest blow and severely affected the health of both parents. They died within four years of this loss. Aggie also lost her husband within a year of losing both parents.
But I digress. Some of the McGraths emigrated to Riverside California. They were a mysterious lot to me but Aggie kept up a correspondence with her cousin Kate who was the oldest of the children who set out for California with her parents. Kate's father John was a master carpenter. He apparently made his fortune building crates for the citrus industry. Later he was known as a master carpenter who built a number of beautiful homes in the arts and crafts style. The family home was built in 1911 and is still in perfect condition. It is a lovely home by any definition.
John was the oldest of 11 children and one of his brothers followed him. I had found the baptism of Michael but then he seemed to disappear. It seems that he followed John to California following a bout of typhoid. I guess I'll have to see what I can find about typhoid in Ottawa in the late 19th century. He had not really recovered when he traveled cross-border and cross-country. My guess is that he went by train, but who knows?
Anyway, in the Ottawa Journal of January 24th 1893, was a short article saying that Michael had died 21 months after arriving in California. His occupation was given as 'stair builder'. I suppose that fit very well with his brother's work. Michael was only 34 years old. Of course all this happened between censuses and little other information has come to light.
When I was in California visiting descendants of John McGrath, we went to Evergreen cemetery in Riverside. We found the graves of John and his wife Johanna and nearby was one for Michael. I had thought it was possibly John's brother but had no documentation. Now we know.
What is still a mystery is that the name of a little girl named Annie is also on Michael's stone. Michael was not married and had never had children. John had no child named Annie. This is another path to go down some day.
Another article appeared in the Ottawa Journal when John passed away in Riverside. Apparently his death was as a result of an accident. Something else to investigate. So far I have not found any newspapers from Riverside but one day the answer will turn up. Perhaps there was a later article in the Ottawa paper. This one had shown up as related to Alderman E.P. McGrath. I guess it's good to be prominent. Details as I find them.
It's brutally hot these days so I will likely stay indoors and keep digging for information. More to follow.
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Wednesday, June 29 2016
It has been an interesting few days in genealogy-land. I'm preparing for my long visit to Ireland next winter and working on a research plan to get the most out of visits to the National Library of Ireland and the Archives, Manuscript library and other sites.
To decide what to include on the list of goals I allowed myself some diversions from the direct family lines for a while. Sometimes you have to go sideways to go forward. I know that many of the families who lived near Arthur and Eliza Byrne in Throoptown, Ontario had the same names as families who surrounded the Byrnes in Coolross, before they emigrated. How did they all choose the same area to settle? Were some families here first? Were some here from the time of the building of the Rideau Canal?
I might not find the answers to those questions - I'm easily distracted and diverted. You'd only have to take a look at my pile of papers and files to know that I've sometimes, well maybe often, gone off madly in all directions.
For a while - well a couple of hours - I was looking in the Gehan/Gahan connection. One of Arthur's children, Arthur Jr, married Eliza Gahan. After raising their family in Canada, and having the senior Arthur and Eliza living with them, they sold their land and moved to Ogdensburg, NY. It's just across the St Lawrence River which divides Ontario Canada from New York State. The borders were very porous back in the late 19th century. There was work to be had working on the Great Lake steamers and other working boats and Arthur Jr answered the siren call, as did many of his siblings and extended family.
I made NO progress at all other than to find a few records supporting what I already knew of the Gahans. So, I moved on to the Thorpes. Two Byrne sisters married two Thorpe brothers. One couple remained in Ontario and the other moved to Monroe County, New York. Their family had come from Croneyhorn townland, Hot Pot Lane to be specific (yes, that's really the name). Gabriel Thorpe, father of these boys, had married Nancy (Ann) Byrne in the Tomacork Parish, County Wicklow. So far no indication of a connection with our Byrne family.
I pored over records of the Thorpes and found a few more names and parts of more recent generations. That was on Saturday.
Sunday brought an unexpected email from a man on the Isle of Wight. He had found an old book that had been presented to a Catherine Thorpe as a prize for diving in 1908. It appears to have been affiliated with a school in Chelsea, England. Being curious he googled her name and came upon a link to the item I had written about our Byrne folks in Throoptown. Down the list of descendants were some Thorpes. My email address had been attached to the article so he wrote.
I had not thought about the Thorpes in months and the day after I start looking into them, this email pops into my inbox. As it turns out, I can't seem to find any connection to Thorpes in England, although it is an English name. Maybe our Thorpes descended from the English who pretty much took over Ireland so long ago. Maybe they just left England and settled in Ireland for their own reasons.
Well I decided to do some investigating as my previous days' record searching had led me to some Thorpes who remained in Canada - descendants of Henry Thorpe and Margaret Byrne. I began to wonder if there were any Thorpes still around that area.
I went online to Canada411.ca which is the best source of phone numbers for Canadians who have landlines. Lo and behold there was one Thorpe in Prescott and about half a dozen in Brockville. I called the one in Prescott but he was sick in hospital and his wife didn't really seem up to a great deal of conversation so I just wished him well.
The first name in Brockville was my next target. There I got a warm welcome and the next day, Tuesday by now, I drove to Brockville as previously planned, to do a little more searching - but not for Thorpes. I diverted to the home of the Thorpes I had spoken with but it doesn't seem like we are related after all. Their ancestor had arrived in Canada decades before ours, and he was Protestant. He did have an interesting life though. I left what I knew of my Thorpes with this family.
Now I have to gather the courage to call some of the other Thorpes. It's a bit hazardous and can upset people. Cold calls are usually from telemarketers and I'm anything but. Tomorrow I might venture into the phone realm again - but I'll prepare a better introduction.
The reason for my trip to Brockville was to search for information on the Fennells and Fitzpatricks. I have managed to locate the Fennell ancestors in the townlands of Barrowhouse and Monebrock in County Kildare. The Fitzpatricks were according to family information, from County Cavan. Patrick was my great great grandfather. His obituary stated that he had come from County Cavan, first to Bytown which is now Ottawa. Subsequently he arrived and settled in Brockville. I guess Annie Fennell caught his eye because they married in 1852 and became pillars of the farming and church community.
The record of their marriage is in the family bible, held by cousin Mike Whitten in Northern Ontario. It simply gives November 1852 as the date. No parents names are listed. Without the names of Patrick's parents, and no mention of a townland or even a parish, in Ireland there is little hope of finding the right folks. Maybe we are related to some Fitzpatricks who are still there, but unless some obscure source of information comes to light, I'll probably never find out.
There was no mention in the newspaper of that month and year. Land records don't have Patrick's name which means that in 1861 when the agricultural census included concession and lot numbers, he was just renting. Without knowing the concession it would take an incredible length of time to pore through all of the land record books to see if he ever bought any land.
He did however, leave a will which was probated. A copy of that will is in the land office. To see it means another trip to Brockville. Who knows what I might learn there - perhaps the location of his land. Most wills don't mention parents of the adult deceased but maybe in a couple of weeks I'll have some time on my hands and desire to incur temporary vision issues by poring over that microfilm.
I think I'll leave the Thorpes and Gahans alone for the time being. I know where to go in Ireland to find the home place of the Fennells. That's one more ancestral family about whom there is probably more information to be found.
My brick walls in Ireland, beyond the Fitzpatricks, are now down to the McGraths of Kilkenny, the Loughnanes of Tipperary, the Walsh and Macdonald families of who knows where. Then there are the Mahers and the Kanes. And oh yes, the "other" McGraths. The Kehoes keep peeking out here and there but I have no idea if I'm being teased or there might be someone behind a glass of Guinness who knows something of the Kehoe heritage and is willing to chat.
For now I'll drift off with visions of evenings in a pub somewhere in rural Ireland when the ghosts of my ancestors all arrive with stories to tell.
It has been an interesting few days in genealogy-land. I'm preparing for my long visit to Ireland next winter and working on a research plan to get the most out of visits to the National Library of Ireland and the Archives, Manuscript library and other sites.
To decide what to include on the list of goals I allowed myself some diversions from the direct family lines for a while. Sometimes you have to go sideways to go forward. I know that many of the families who lived near Arthur and Eliza Byrne in Throoptown, Ontario had the same names as families who surrounded the Byrnes in Coolross, before they emigrated. How did they all choose the same area to settle? Were some families here first? Were some here from the time of the building of the Rideau Canal?
I might not find the answers to those questions - I'm easily distracted and diverted. You'd only have to take a look at my pile of papers and files to know that I've sometimes, well maybe often, gone off madly in all directions.
For a while - well a couple of hours - I was looking in the Gehan/Gahan connection. One of Arthur's children, Arthur Jr, married Eliza Gahan. After raising their family in Canada, and having the senior Arthur and Eliza living with them, they sold their land and moved to Ogdensburg, NY. It's just across the St Lawrence River which divides Ontario Canada from New York State. The borders were very porous back in the late 19th century. There was work to be had working on the Great Lake steamers and other working boats and Arthur Jr answered the siren call, as did many of his siblings and extended family.
I made NO progress at all other than to find a few records supporting what I already knew of the Gahans. So, I moved on to the Thorpes. Two Byrne sisters married two Thorpe brothers. One couple remained in Ontario and the other moved to Monroe County, New York. Their family had come from Croneyhorn townland, Hot Pot Lane to be specific (yes, that's really the name). Gabriel Thorpe, father of these boys, had married Nancy (Ann) Byrne in the Tomacork Parish, County Wicklow. So far no indication of a connection with our Byrne family.
I pored over records of the Thorpes and found a few more names and parts of more recent generations. That was on Saturday.
Sunday brought an unexpected email from a man on the Isle of Wight. He had found an old book that had been presented to a Catherine Thorpe as a prize for diving in 1908. It appears to have been affiliated with a school in Chelsea, England. Being curious he googled her name and came upon a link to the item I had written about our Byrne folks in Throoptown. Down the list of descendants were some Thorpes. My email address had been attached to the article so he wrote.
I had not thought about the Thorpes in months and the day after I start looking into them, this email pops into my inbox. As it turns out, I can't seem to find any connection to Thorpes in England, although it is an English name. Maybe our Thorpes descended from the English who pretty much took over Ireland so long ago. Maybe they just left England and settled in Ireland for their own reasons.
Well I decided to do some investigating as my previous days' record searching had led me to some Thorpes who remained in Canada - descendants of Henry Thorpe and Margaret Byrne. I began to wonder if there were any Thorpes still around that area.
I went online to Canada411.ca which is the best source of phone numbers for Canadians who have landlines. Lo and behold there was one Thorpe in Prescott and about half a dozen in Brockville. I called the one in Prescott but he was sick in hospital and his wife didn't really seem up to a great deal of conversation so I just wished him well.
The first name in Brockville was my next target. There I got a warm welcome and the next day, Tuesday by now, I drove to Brockville as previously planned, to do a little more searching - but not for Thorpes. I diverted to the home of the Thorpes I had spoken with but it doesn't seem like we are related after all. Their ancestor had arrived in Canada decades before ours, and he was Protestant. He did have an interesting life though. I left what I knew of my Thorpes with this family.
Now I have to gather the courage to call some of the other Thorpes. It's a bit hazardous and can upset people. Cold calls are usually from telemarketers and I'm anything but. Tomorrow I might venture into the phone realm again - but I'll prepare a better introduction.
The reason for my trip to Brockville was to search for information on the Fennells and Fitzpatricks. I have managed to locate the Fennell ancestors in the townlands of Barrowhouse and Monebrock in County Kildare. The Fitzpatricks were according to family information, from County Cavan. Patrick was my great great grandfather. His obituary stated that he had come from County Cavan, first to Bytown which is now Ottawa. Subsequently he arrived and settled in Brockville. I guess Annie Fennell caught his eye because they married in 1852 and became pillars of the farming and church community.
The record of their marriage is in the family bible, held by cousin Mike Whitten in Northern Ontario. It simply gives November 1852 as the date. No parents names are listed. Without the names of Patrick's parents, and no mention of a townland or even a parish, in Ireland there is little hope of finding the right folks. Maybe we are related to some Fitzpatricks who are still there, but unless some obscure source of information comes to light, I'll probably never find out.
There was no mention in the newspaper of that month and year. Land records don't have Patrick's name which means that in 1861 when the agricultural census included concession and lot numbers, he was just renting. Without knowing the concession it would take an incredible length of time to pore through all of the land record books to see if he ever bought any land.
He did however, leave a will which was probated. A copy of that will is in the land office. To see it means another trip to Brockville. Who knows what I might learn there - perhaps the location of his land. Most wills don't mention parents of the adult deceased but maybe in a couple of weeks I'll have some time on my hands and desire to incur temporary vision issues by poring over that microfilm.
I think I'll leave the Thorpes and Gahans alone for the time being. I know where to go in Ireland to find the home place of the Fennells. That's one more ancestral family about whom there is probably more information to be found.
My brick walls in Ireland, beyond the Fitzpatricks, are now down to the McGraths of Kilkenny, the Loughnanes of Tipperary, the Walsh and Macdonald families of who knows where. Then there are the Mahers and the Kanes. And oh yes, the "other" McGraths. The Kehoes keep peeking out here and there but I have no idea if I'm being teased or there might be someone behind a glass of Guinness who knows something of the Kehoe heritage and is willing to chat.
For now I'll drift off with visions of evenings in a pub somewhere in rural Ireland when the ghosts of my ancestors all arrive with stories to tell.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Tuesday, June 13 2016
Well the past weekend was windy and wet and chilly so staring it off with a Genealogy meeting was perfect. Well, once I got inside after stepping my sandalled foot deep into "Lake Inferior" in the parking lot things were fine. Ugh. It was the AGM but the business portion proceeded quickly and efficiently and we're good to go for another year at BIFHSGO.
The Great Moments presented by four members were wonderful and good motivation to keep on seeking. To that end I spend considerable time online pursuing the Irish connection - notably the Byrnes. At times, like now, I think I could work on genealogy 24/7 and still be constantly busy. As it is, a hobby, it keeps me out of trouble.
In all good faith and based on location, right down to the townland of Coolross and the familiar names I started looking more into the family of Whelans who lived in a now-ruined small stone house in what is now a corn field. It is known as Nanny Whelan's place. I was sure this was a related branch but, not so fast ...
Nanny Whelan, whose real name was Annie, was blind yet she was the guardian and substitute parent for her younger siblings. From what I've heard she did a fine job of carrying out her responsibilities. Anyway her parents were Bridget Byrne and Owen Whelan. Head of the household according to the 1901 census was a Michael Byrne. His age and the location had led me to believe he was the son of Michael Byrne and Cath McGuire. On this basis I had assumed Bridget to have been his sister. Well, I was wrong.
Now that so many Catholic parish registers are indexed and online, I decided to look up the marriage of Bridget to Owen Whelan. To my surprise, Bridget's father was Moses Byrne of Coolross. Whoa! That changes everything. So I made the appropriate changes in the family tree, disconnecting them from "our" Michael but leaving the Whelan family intact. Moses' wife was Anne James. So - another question has arisen? Was Moses any relation to our Byrnes? Was it a coincidence of geography to be on the same townland? Byrne is the most common surname in Co Wicklow so this is quite likely to be a coincidence. Anne James is almost certainly the daughter of one of the James family who were tenant landlords in the area. Now I wonder if I should bark up that tree too?
Nanny Whelan apparently would often walk over to what is now Jim Byrne's place at Coolross. Oh to be able to chat with these folks for a few hours!
I found Bridget to have had a brother Michael and a sister Catherine. As far as I can tell, neither married. Catherine had an illegitimate daughter, Mary, who also lived with the Whelans. Having visited the ruins of their home I wonder whether they all slept on hooks on the wall. It certainly was not spacious when you think of so many residents.
So - will I find a blood connection to Nanny Whelan? or her father Moses Byrne? I'm guessing not, as the name Moses was never used in my family nor in Jim's. I suppose we can be grateful for that.
Wandering down other avenues on Sunday I had a lovely chat with Mary and Oliver Harte. They are looking forward to my visit next winter and Mary and I will probably have a few little adventures find the various homes that relatives once occupied. Mary told me of her lovely uncle Patrick, a carpenter, who lived at Three Wells in Aughrim.
A little aside here, a home once owned and probably built by Patrick Byrne, at Three Wells in Aughrim is currently owned by a family of O'Byrnes. In recent times the son, also a Patrick, was arrested and charged for shooting his father. Whoa again. Now I'm happy NOT to be related to that bunch.
Meanwhile, back on track. I also called Tom Byrne at the Rocktavern to see if he knew the name of the missing Byrne brother - son of Luke Byrne and Kate Doyle. The youngest of their sons was James, a seventh son. He was always known as 'the doctor'. I had the names of 5 of his brothers but was missing a name. Tom figures it had to have been Luke as the name was used, and is still used, in the family. What turned up in research was a second son named John - brother to Tom's father John. The two Johns were born a year apart in 1891 and 1892. At this moment I don't recall which was which. But was one of these actually a Luke? or was it an infant death and the second John 'reused' the name. This was not uncommon at the time as my grandmother Agnes McGrath was named for an older sister who had died in infancy a couple of years before her birth.
So - just when I think I'm solving a mystery another one begins. I wonder where my next investigations will take me.
Well the past weekend was windy and wet and chilly so staring it off with a Genealogy meeting was perfect. Well, once I got inside after stepping my sandalled foot deep into "Lake Inferior" in the parking lot things were fine. Ugh. It was the AGM but the business portion proceeded quickly and efficiently and we're good to go for another year at BIFHSGO.
The Great Moments presented by four members were wonderful and good motivation to keep on seeking. To that end I spend considerable time online pursuing the Irish connection - notably the Byrnes. At times, like now, I think I could work on genealogy 24/7 and still be constantly busy. As it is, a hobby, it keeps me out of trouble.
In all good faith and based on location, right down to the townland of Coolross and the familiar names I started looking more into the family of Whelans who lived in a now-ruined small stone house in what is now a corn field. It is known as Nanny Whelan's place. I was sure this was a related branch but, not so fast ...
Nanny Whelan, whose real name was Annie, was blind yet she was the guardian and substitute parent for her younger siblings. From what I've heard she did a fine job of carrying out her responsibilities. Anyway her parents were Bridget Byrne and Owen Whelan. Head of the household according to the 1901 census was a Michael Byrne. His age and the location had led me to believe he was the son of Michael Byrne and Cath McGuire. On this basis I had assumed Bridget to have been his sister. Well, I was wrong.
Now that so many Catholic parish registers are indexed and online, I decided to look up the marriage of Bridget to Owen Whelan. To my surprise, Bridget's father was Moses Byrne of Coolross. Whoa! That changes everything. So I made the appropriate changes in the family tree, disconnecting them from "our" Michael but leaving the Whelan family intact. Moses' wife was Anne James. So - another question has arisen? Was Moses any relation to our Byrnes? Was it a coincidence of geography to be on the same townland? Byrne is the most common surname in Co Wicklow so this is quite likely to be a coincidence. Anne James is almost certainly the daughter of one of the James family who were tenant landlords in the area. Now I wonder if I should bark up that tree too?
Nanny Whelan apparently would often walk over to what is now Jim Byrne's place at Coolross. Oh to be able to chat with these folks for a few hours!
I found Bridget to have had a brother Michael and a sister Catherine. As far as I can tell, neither married. Catherine had an illegitimate daughter, Mary, who also lived with the Whelans. Having visited the ruins of their home I wonder whether they all slept on hooks on the wall. It certainly was not spacious when you think of so many residents.
So - will I find a blood connection to Nanny Whelan? or her father Moses Byrne? I'm guessing not, as the name Moses was never used in my family nor in Jim's. I suppose we can be grateful for that.
Wandering down other avenues on Sunday I had a lovely chat with Mary and Oliver Harte. They are looking forward to my visit next winter and Mary and I will probably have a few little adventures find the various homes that relatives once occupied. Mary told me of her lovely uncle Patrick, a carpenter, who lived at Three Wells in Aughrim.
A little aside here, a home once owned and probably built by Patrick Byrne, at Three Wells in Aughrim is currently owned by a family of O'Byrnes. In recent times the son, also a Patrick, was arrested and charged for shooting his father. Whoa again. Now I'm happy NOT to be related to that bunch.
Meanwhile, back on track. I also called Tom Byrne at the Rocktavern to see if he knew the name of the missing Byrne brother - son of Luke Byrne and Kate Doyle. The youngest of their sons was James, a seventh son. He was always known as 'the doctor'. I had the names of 5 of his brothers but was missing a name. Tom figures it had to have been Luke as the name was used, and is still used, in the family. What turned up in research was a second son named John - brother to Tom's father John. The two Johns were born a year apart in 1891 and 1892. At this moment I don't recall which was which. But was one of these actually a Luke? or was it an infant death and the second John 'reused' the name. This was not uncommon at the time as my grandmother Agnes McGrath was named for an older sister who had died in infancy a couple of years before her birth.
So - just when I think I'm solving a mystery another one begins. I wonder where my next investigations will take me.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Sunday June 5, 2016
Finally some rain. The area is almost in a drought and the farmers must have been getting worried. It looks quite socked in and hopefully will be an all-day soaking rain. This means there should be no excuses for the indoor activities that are screaming to be done. Well of course there's laundry and cleaning, but I'm thinking more along the lines of scanning photos and working on the story of Aggie.
The main focus of my time in Ireland next Winter will be the Byrne heritage, although I have several other Irish lines to pursue - Fennell, Fitzpatrick, Brennan, McGrath and Loughnane in particular. Then if I get bored I can move on to Walsh, Mcdonald, Maher, Kane/Keane/Cain ...
To this end I had written (emailed) to the Archives in Sheffield England which holds the largest collection of Fitzwilliam records and manuscripts. Their holdings include rental records for every year as far back as the mid 18th century. I'm hoping to find clues to when Arthur Byrne started renting there and possibly who his father was. In parallel, I'm looking into the ancestors and descendants of Michael Byrne whose descendants still live at Coolross. My working theory is the Arthur and Michael were brothers.
Well the query brought an answer. There is a wealth of documentation to be pored through. Thinking that paying a researcher might be less expensive and more productive than doing it myself, I asked for a quote. Yikes! Cost is 13.50 GBP per half hour. It can take half an hour just to browse through a manuscript to find one name, even knowing the name and location you are seeking. The report that is produced is merely a recounting of what was found. If you want a digital image of the page the cost is 15 GBP. Holy smokes!
If you go in person to search, and they are open Saturday, Monday and Tuesday only, there is no cost to do your own research and you can take digital images of what you find, also at no cost. Hmmm - I'm now re-thinking the possibility of finding a suitable flight on Ryanair from Dublin to Leeds-Bradford on a Friday and returning the following Tuesday night or Wednesday. The air fare is quite cheap if booked far enough in advance, bus fare from the airport to Sheffield is cheap and I'll seek reasonably priced accommodations. It will probably work out to be less expensive and will give me another peek at the area my maternal grandfather came from.
I still have not figured out when exactly to leave for Ireland but I think it will be soon after Christmas with a return in mid to late April. That should allow for a little break in Portugal for the Genealogy in the Sun conference in Albufeira at the end of March. I'll probably stick around for a bit afterwards and do a bit more sightseeing and enjoy the sun. It won't be hot but pleasantly mild will do nicely for looking around. If I'm feeling a bit richer maybe I'll go as far as Barcelona.
So, now that the day is fully underway it's about time I made myself some breakfast and enjoyed a cup of coffee. I'll ponder my options and must include some laundry and perhaps force myself to do some vacuuming while the clothes are getting clean. After that - the siren call of genealogy will be answered.
Finally some rain. The area is almost in a drought and the farmers must have been getting worried. It looks quite socked in and hopefully will be an all-day soaking rain. This means there should be no excuses for the indoor activities that are screaming to be done. Well of course there's laundry and cleaning, but I'm thinking more along the lines of scanning photos and working on the story of Aggie.
The main focus of my time in Ireland next Winter will be the Byrne heritage, although I have several other Irish lines to pursue - Fennell, Fitzpatrick, Brennan, McGrath and Loughnane in particular. Then if I get bored I can move on to Walsh, Mcdonald, Maher, Kane/Keane/Cain ...
To this end I had written (emailed) to the Archives in Sheffield England which holds the largest collection of Fitzwilliam records and manuscripts. Their holdings include rental records for every year as far back as the mid 18th century. I'm hoping to find clues to when Arthur Byrne started renting there and possibly who his father was. In parallel, I'm looking into the ancestors and descendants of Michael Byrne whose descendants still live at Coolross. My working theory is the Arthur and Michael were brothers.
Well the query brought an answer. There is a wealth of documentation to be pored through. Thinking that paying a researcher might be less expensive and more productive than doing it myself, I asked for a quote. Yikes! Cost is 13.50 GBP per half hour. It can take half an hour just to browse through a manuscript to find one name, even knowing the name and location you are seeking. The report that is produced is merely a recounting of what was found. If you want a digital image of the page the cost is 15 GBP. Holy smokes!
If you go in person to search, and they are open Saturday, Monday and Tuesday only, there is no cost to do your own research and you can take digital images of what you find, also at no cost. Hmmm - I'm now re-thinking the possibility of finding a suitable flight on Ryanair from Dublin to Leeds-Bradford on a Friday and returning the following Tuesday night or Wednesday. The air fare is quite cheap if booked far enough in advance, bus fare from the airport to Sheffield is cheap and I'll seek reasonably priced accommodations. It will probably work out to be less expensive and will give me another peek at the area my maternal grandfather came from.
I still have not figured out when exactly to leave for Ireland but I think it will be soon after Christmas with a return in mid to late April. That should allow for a little break in Portugal for the Genealogy in the Sun conference in Albufeira at the end of March. I'll probably stick around for a bit afterwards and do a bit more sightseeing and enjoy the sun. It won't be hot but pleasantly mild will do nicely for looking around. If I'm feeling a bit richer maybe I'll go as far as Barcelona.
So, now that the day is fully underway it's about time I made myself some breakfast and enjoyed a cup of coffee. I'll ponder my options and must include some laundry and perhaps force myself to do some vacuuming while the clothes are getting clean. After that - the siren call of genealogy will be answered.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)