Hello faithful readers
The wifi connection from the main house to this cottage must have been damaged in the storm and I have to run the laptop off my phone, which will eat up data. So, I'll save my posts until I'm once again on real wifi.
I'll try to find a location today to login.
Ann
Mostly genealogy-related. You have been warned.
This afternoon Jim and I drove to Ashdown Park Hotel in Gorey, Co. Wexford, to meet with Brendan Byrne. He is a close Y-DNA match to Jim and to my brother Tom. The connection is too distant to discover with autosomal DNA.
It was a great meeting, with Jim and Brendan sharing stories that they had heard, about where their Byrne ancestors were from. Nothing really seemed to match. The problem with Y-DNA is that it doesn't change much down the generations. So it's hard to pinpoint the relationships. We're going to have a look at each other's trees and continue to dig to see what might be uncovered. Finding records before 1800 requires a great deal of luck.
The photo of the three of us just won't load, so just picture three incredibly good-looking humans in this space.
En route to Gorey, we encountered literally hundreds of cars, some even vintage, heading from Enniscorthy to unknown parts. It was a rally of some sort for fundraising. That's all I managed to retain from the explanation.
Coming back, we were on the final bit of road near Coolruss. This is a VERY narrow road with barely room to pass. Happily, we were at one of the few places where it was wide enough for one car to pull to the side. Jim did so quickly as a large black sedan came roaring at us at a speed much too fast for the conditions. He sped by and didn't even stop. We paused for a bit before finishing the journey. There was no time to get the registration or even notice what make of car it was. I usually drive that area in second gear because it's twisty and did I mention VERY NARROW? It ended happily with not even a scratch and we won't dwell on what might have been.
Once again I was invited to dinner and enjoyed every mouthful - as usual. The apple crumble made for a very tasty ending.
Back at my cottage I put a load of laundry in the washer and tried to get on the internet. Nothing worked, so I went back to Coolruss to get a signal and answer some emails.
I'm staying here at the Lodge at Raheengraney House, until Oct 12 and then will head directly to Dublin airport, drop the car and hope against hope that I'm able to get a seat on the flight home. I've let my WestJet fairy godmother look after bookings. All fingers and toes crossed.
Be warned - this post is all about genealogy - just sign off now. I won't be offended. In fact, I won't even know if you got this far.
Athy was on the program and the 45 minute drive was uneventful. Finding parking was a challenge. Eventually I found a spot, and after some wriggling back and forth, I was parked and set out for Emily Square mere metres away. I was met with this sight.
There I met Keith Langton, and over lunch at the Town Cafe, we discussed Fennell and Whelan contacts. We were soon to meet Ger Gibson, whose maternal line were Whelans, blacksmiths in Barrowhouse. And those Whelans are potentially my Whelans too.
We drove to Barrowhouse and St Mary's church and graveyard where we met John Langton and Ger Gibson. Here's Ger by the churchyard gate, made by his ancestor - one of the Whelan blacksmiths.
In the graveyard we visited a Fennell grave that was quite modern when compared to those around it. I'd seen it and photographed it in 2017, and was grateful for the information inscribed thereon. But I never paid attention to the grave immediately beside it. A large table tomb had a difficult-to-read inscription that we finally decoded.
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| This tomb was erected by Nicholas Fennell of Mount Brook, in memory of his mother Elizabeth Fennell, who died Dec. ??? 1831 or maybe 1861, aged 67 years. |
Now at first when we had only made out Nicholas Fennell and 1831 I thought we'd found the grave of my 4x great grandfather. But we continued to read and now there's another puzzle. Mount Brook is the right location for our Fennells. But was Nicholas the grandson of the other Nicholas and was Elizabeth Fennell her maiden or married name? Solving this is my next project.
Just a few steps away, Keith noted a headstone for Daniel J. Whelan and the dates indicate that he could have been the brother of Bridget Whelan Fennell. There was a Daniel Whelan as witness at her wedding. Add that to the todo list as well.
Then we headed to the ruins of the Fennell house, that I had visited in 2017, when led there by Keith's uncle Noel Burke. Almost blown away in the wind, and electrocuted by the wire fence, we persisted and hung around a bit.
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| The doorway was low and wide and an almost invisible electric wire keeps you from getting any closer. |
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| Keith (on right) and John inspect the Fennell table tomb |
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| This is Daniel Whelan's headstone - sadly unreadable in this photo |
Storm Amy raged across the west of Ireland leaving flooding and destruction in its wake. Happily for those of us living or visiting the southeast, there was only heavy rain and high winds. I haven't heard of any damage and driving today from Bunclody to Athy, there was no sign of aftereffects. It was windy though, especially when driving through areas of highway not protected by trees.
I had all my gear in the car, as I'd moved once again. I spent last night in a cosy hotel in Bunclody - Clody Lodge. At first I thought itmight be a Harry Potter experience. The sign on the front of the building clearly says Clody Lodge. But the two doors on the street were not entries to the hotel. Instead I investigated a narrow alley just to the left and spotted a nicely detailed entrance to the hotel. I didn't see the number 9 3/4 though.
There were instructions on how to get in if the reception desk was not staffed. However, Charlie greeted me warmly, showed me how to come and go easily, and offered to help me to my room. I didn't have much baggage and easily managed by myself. I also figured out how to turn on the tv, and enjoyed the last half of an episode of Murder in Provence.
Wondering what the white remote controller in a holder on the wall might be for, it was easily apparent that it controlled the heating, which made the room cosy indeed. I slept in two shifts totalling about 8 hours of actual slumber and finally woke up at 9:22. Checkout time is 11. No time to waste.
The shower was lovely and the heated towel rack was a guilty pleasure. I didn't take the time to blow dry my hair because I spent too long trying to figure out how to insert the coffee pod into the coffee maker. Finally I had to summon Charlie and eventually had a great cup of caffeine to get me going.
We chatted briefly before I left and found out that he has quite an accomplished family, one member of which has happily benefitted from some coincidences. They were not exactly of the same kind as lead me to my Byrnes, but ended just as well.
The weak battery in my car fob is still pulsing enough to open and start the car. Tick off one more day. I did find out how to open the fob to change the battery but will try to make a quick trip to the Audi dealer in Carlow to actually do it, maybe on Tuesday.
Genealogy Alert - you can tune out now if family history doesn't turn your crank.
And then the fun began. I had an uneventful drive to Athy and even managed to find a parking place. Bonus - free parking on Saturday. Shortly afterwards I met Keith and after a quick walk around the museum, featuring Ernest Shackleton. There was a huge investment in the project. In fact, the entire Emily Square is quite spiffed up from my last visit in 2017. We had lunch at the Town Cafe and chatted about the Fennells and Whelans who were my 3x and 4x great grandparents. They are still mostly still hiding in the Genealogy Protection Program, meaning pretty safe from discovery. But I'm on the case!
Following a chat in the cafe with one of the owners, we learned that the usual local historians were not in fact in the pub next door at the moment, so that avenue shut down. BUT, headed out in Keith's car in the direction of Barrowhouse. There was a short detour to Barrack Street where my Whelans lived at the time that Bridget was baptised. It is named for a British Barracks and some of the original walls still remain. What their connection was to those barracks is unknown. Were they the same Whelans found at Barrowhouse, interacting with my Fennells? The blacksmith's family? That remains to be determined.
Anyway, we headed to St Mary's church, built in 1831 and to its adjoining graveyard. There I saw for the second time, a Fennell headstone with lots of great information. But it wasn't new to me. What I had not realized on the 2017 visit, was that beside it was another Fennell tombstone of quite huge dimensions. It was erected by Nicholas Fennell in memory of his mother Elizabeth Fennell who died in, well, maybe 1831 or 1861. The carving of the date was kind of ambiguous. Nicholas Fennell was my 4x great grandfather and initially I thought he was the person whose name was carved there and I got quite excited but wondered why his wife's name was missing. Then when we noticed the name of Elizabeth and saw the dates, of course more questions were raised. "My" Nicholas had a grandson Nicholas but he was part of the family that emigrated and ended up in Brockville. So, given the dates, was he a son of Elizabeth Fennell, the daughter of my 4x great grandfather Nicholas? If so, was she a single mother? Or did she marry another Fennell? Add sorting that out to the todo list.
A little farther down was a headstone for a Daniel J. Whelan, potentially the brother of Bridget Whelan of Barrack St, my 3x great grandmother who married Mick Fennell. He was born in 1816 (tick the box as it fits) and died in 1906 (or thereabouts). His name crops up as a witness or sponsor in marriages and baptisms.
Keith and I were joined by his uncle John and a gent named Ger Gibson, whose mother was a Whelan. We might be cousins and that would be fabulous. He recounted a lot of local history and the recorder in my brain only recalls some of it. He's also a musician of some repute. I have his phone number and will get in touch for an email address.
We paid a short visit to the ruin of the Fennell home and Keith got quite a jolt after opening the gate. Literally a jolt. There was an electrified wire guarding the entrance. Yikes. We were able to disengage the wire and stayed away from the wire around the ruins of the house.
All good things come to an end and we parted ways with Ger, and later John after a short drive around the area to see the old Whelan forge. Was that blacksmith one of my Whelans? Could be.
Eventually, Keith drove me back to the parking spot in Athy and we said our good-byes and we'll stay in touch. If I can't find some information he mentioned that is online, he'll either find the link or will send me copies.
The drive back to Co Wicklow was pleasant and was broken by a short stop at the Bunclody SuperValu to pick up more groceries. I think I have enough now to last the week.
The challenge of finding my new digs meant a couple of trips past the gate. Finally using the Eircode, I was directed to the correct lane, and here I am.
It's now time for bed so I'll apologize for the lack of photos. I'll post them tomorrow.
Heavy rain and lots of wind - the story of the day. Here in the southeast there wasn't too much out of the ordinary where I drove. Horror stories are emerging from parts west and northwest. Devastating Storm Amy left her mark.
I checked out of Minmore Mews, had a brief visit to Coolruss, then lunch in Bunclody with friends and checked into the Clody Lodge. It was my lucky parking day. Two cars ahead of me on the street, a vehicle pulled out of a spot handy to the lodge, so I pulled in.
I'm hoping to pull out soon, but am a bit nervous. The battery in the fob that I use to open doors and start the vehicle, is running out of charge. I've emailed Budget but had no reply. There is a "key" and I've googled how to use it. Wish me luck. I am not returning to Dublin airport for a battery. I don't have any idea how to get it out of the fob in any case. And maybe it's not replaceable in a corner store anyway.
Genealogy alert:
I had a conversation with Keith yesterday evening, in preparation for our meeting this morning (I said I was late posting this) and spent considerable time online looking for Whelans. They must also have enrolled in the Genealogy Protection Program because they didn't pop out of the records at all. I might be meeting some of the Whelan descendants who just might be cousins, and fingers crossed that they have information.
After a good night's sleep - in two phases because I just can't sleep through in one go - I'm finishing my coffee and will hit the road. Making the coffee taxed my addled brain but Charlie at the front desk came to my rescue. The pods were here, the water reservoir was filled and I couldn't get the pod to sit nicely in place to make my brew. Charlie to the rescue. I had the right idea, almost, but wasn't sure how hard I needed to press to close the "lid." Even Charlie had to make some adjustments and he assured me that at least 50% of customers have the same issue. Suitably caffeinated, and all packed up, I'm about to consult Ms Google for directions to Athy.
It's a bit overcast with some sun promised for the afternoon. Then again, it's a bit hard to tell from my hotel room window. I have a complete view of the wall of the building beside this one with a glimpse of sky above. There is no rain falling right now. Ah well, the storm has passed and I don't expect any washouts on the road ahead.
Slan
Today was a washout. It's not that it was unproductive, it's that the rain persisted all day long and has intensified now that it's dark. You know how the sound of the rain helps you fall asleep? Imagine how hard it's been to stay awake all day. Well, to be honest there were short breaks. I guess the spout got blocked and then released off and on.
I made the planned phone call to Catherine in Castlecomer. She answered my call – from Galway. Ah, the magic of a mobile phone. Obviously, I didn't go to meet her. We're going to find a date next week. If I'm lucky some secrets from my Kilkenny ancestors might step into the light.
Instead of travelling, I spent much of the day verifying some previous research, accepting information I'd only considered possible in the past, and hoping (in vain) to find more online. And reading.
These photos from today should illustrate my words. There's really not much more to say. It's far too early to go to bed and it would be nice if the rain were to stop, but maybe it could continue when I'm trying to fall asleep. Just saying ...
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No need to wash the car now |
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My view today during a break in the rain I didn't put a foot out the door |
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Straight from the weather network this afternoon, but the weekend is looking good |
Tomorrow I'm moving, for one day, to Clody Lodge in Bunclody before moving into my next cottage, about 3 kms from here on Saturday. I suppose I should start to pack up now although I don't really have much to pack. Perhaps I'll just wait until morning.
And in case you wonder where I've been staying, here is a picture. The skylight you see is just above and beside my bed and the sound of the rain will be my lullaby. The lower level window is the living room and the ground level one is above the kitchen sink. This picture is from the Minmore Mews website and certainly not taken today.
I had an opportunity not to be missed - a game of golf at Coollattin with three people that I didn't know but everyone told me were lovely folks. And they were absolutely right. Especially to put up with my horrible game. Maria had graciously lent me her clubs, bought with the idea of learning the game but as yet never used by her.
The clubs were not at all like my own but the fault certainly didn't lie with the clubs. I did lack accessories so had to buy a hat, ball marker, divot repair tool and, oh yes, some golf balls. Mary E. lent me a glove. The good news is I still have all five balls that I bought. They were "previously loved" balls, in pristine condition. And I played with the same brand as I play with at home. None of this helped my game. But I had a great time. And yes, I returned the glove.
The course was rather muddy due to the heavy rain overnight and I didn't have a towel to clean the clubs or the ball. Was the accumulated mud sufficient to jinx my shots? I think not. One bonus was that when I finally sank a putt, the ball got washed in the base of the cup.
Perhaps I was just distracted by the beautiful surroundings. More likely it was just one of those games.
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Hugh preparing to tee off - Coollattin House in the background |
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Don't be fooled into thinking this was flat - hills to the left and right of the photo In this case the green was downhill all the way from the tee. This was the flat part between hills |
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Kathleen and Anne - who could both drive the ball a mile |
We followed the game with lunch in the clubhouse and interesting conversation. I settled for soup and brown bread because it was after 2 and I was going to Coolruss for dinner. The dinner was excellent. And a bonus was that Maria showed me where I was going wrong in making new Whatsapp connections.
Genealogy alert:
All sorts of good news awaited me in email and messages when I got "home." John O and I discussed potential Kehoe family members last night and after he did some online investigation on my behalf today, we are now pretty sure that we know that Eliza's brothers were Owen and Martin. And I'm pretty certain, given where they lived, that the Kehoe family now living in Corragh is the same family. Alas, despite having previously compared DNA results with this family, we seemed to have no match. But the common ancestor is too far back to show up in such a comparison anyway. More research and documentation will be applied in this direction.
And after an exchange of comments on FB and later in Messenger, with some helpful folks from Co. Kilkenny, I'm going to Castlecomer tomorrow to meet with a woman who might be able to shed some light on my McGrath, Maher, Brennan and Walsh ancestors. It will be fun anyway. And now to bed.
