We decided to turn the bad news about having to go back to Dublin to submit my "new" Canadian passport application (don't ask) into good news by combining it with a trip up north to Cavan, where my grandmother Mary Cate O'Reilly Torrance came from. I have been there a few times before but Richard hasn't. I found an awesome deal at a gorgeous country hotel called Slieve Russell. A two-day "Senior's Getaway" that included two breakfasts and two dinners. Combine that with free train and bus travel, why not? So I called Precious Pets and got Mitzi settled in at the bed & biscuit hotel, and off we went very early this past Monday morning. Arranged to park the car at the train station. Golly I love these online parking apps where you key your license in, the dates you're parking, your payment method and then all you have to do is arrive, find a parking spot and that's it.
Taking the Waterford train was delightful. Modern, clean and very quiet. It's a two-hour ride from Waterford to Dublin. We arrived at 9:00 a.m., quickly found the right bus that dropped us off a five-minute walk from the Canadian Embassy. Buses in Dublin move VERY slowly. We learned on our return trip that the LUAS (Light Rail) is much better. If you are ever visiting Dublin I recommend either the LUAS or simply walking. I find Dublin very walkable.
Still, I arrived at the Embassy at 10:00 a.m. and joy of joys, I was the first one there. It took about 40 minutes to get through the bureaucracy, pay the fee and my Canadian passport should be sent in the mail in about three weeks. I need it to go back to the U.S. as my green card is tied to my Canadian information. Even for a visit.
I was so excited about getting through the passport headache that I took a photo of a canal boat; you can barely see the modern building behind it--the Canadian Embassy is in that building.
After a quick lunch, we walked about 25 minutes to the Busaras (Bus) Station. Thank goodness for rolling weekend cases!! It would have been a painful shlep otherwise. I also need to say a word for the joy of smart phones. Not only did my phone give me the information of when the next bus would be leaving for Cavan but it also is my street GPS tracker. Even Richard with his great sense of direction wouldn't have been able to wind his way through all the streets of Dublin to the Bus Station easily.
The bus ride to Slieve Russell was a little under 2 hours. We had to change at Belturbet, where my grandmother and great grandparents lived over 100 years ago. It isn't a very pretty town and I have never had any luck finding anyone connected to, or with knowledge of, the family. Still this is a photo of the house they were living in when the 1901 and 1911 censuses were taken. Yes, ironic that the pub to the right is called The Yukon Bar. It wouldn't have been called that back then; I think the name is about 21 years old which is when the current owners bought it. I think the name originated because the owner was traveling in Canada and liked the name "Yukon." Or something like that. I have been in the pub many years ago--I think it was a Gay Pride night because I was very definitely not batting on the right side.
My great grandparents lived in that house--they may not even have had the whole house--with six of their children. They had had 11 and 7 survived to adulthood. My grandmother, as the oldest daughter, was not living with them in 1901 even though she would only have been 16. With that many children, the oldest daughter had to go out to work at a young age. I have never been able to find out where she went at first. All I know is that according to the 1911 Canada Census, she said that she came to Canada in 1906. Family lore is that she worked in an aunt's boardinghouse in Quebec City where she met my grandfather. They married in 1910 and shortly moved on to Joliette--grandpa worked for the Grand Trunk Railway--where my mother was born in 1912. Feisty lady that she was, she took my infant mother to Ireland to see the family shortly after Mom was born. As Mom was born in May, they probably sailed in July and returned in November (I know when they returned, not when they left.) Since we barely survive plane travel, I cannot imagine sailing from Quebec to Ireland in 1912 with a small infant. And then back again. Then again my father's mother sailed from Quebec to Liverpool when she was pregnant with a five year old boy in tow! Strong women.
Leaving the past behind, it was a short (thank goodness!) bus ride to Slieve Russell and we were both enchanted by the beautiful hotel and grounds.
The paintings in the foyer reflect the "traditional" Cavan countryside, the kind of country that my ancestors would have been familiar with. I have found records for my Reilly ancestors that show they were farming in Drumrush, about 8 kms from where Slieve Russell is, in the early 1800s. And that is only when the records started, they were here long before that.
The Hotel is so far above what my ancestors would ever have dreamt of. Beautiful decor, comfortable room with enormous bathroom (probably as big as a bedroom in a croft), plentiful food.... We can never understand how our ancestors really lived, only impose our own assumptions on them based on a comparison of how we live now and what we now of what little they had.
Just outside of the Hotel is a "Secret Garden" which is the beginning of a mile and three quarter walk around the Hotel, the Garden and the gorgeous golf course. We kept saying to each other, as we walked that we were definitely not in Arizona anymore nor could we create anything close to this in Arizona.
When we lived in Winterhaven, Richard used to walk around the golf course in the evening, after the golfers were gone, and look for golf balls. He eventually had over 150. This machine makes life much easier!
The day after our arrival Richard stayed at the Hotel enjoying the comfy sitting areas, the walk, etc., etc., while I took the bus back to Belturbet. I met with a couple of local historians but they could only explain some of the general history of the area (which I already knew) but nothing about my family. I can piece together a kind of narrative of though. My great grandparents lived on the family farm in Drumrush after their marriage in 1882; they had a small croft together with several of the Reilly brothers. After their fifth child was born in 1888, the land was just not enough for them to support themselves. Also, I found a record a few years ago in the Irish Petty Sessions, that noted that my great grandmother had taken a pitchfork to a neighbor over a dispute about land boundaries. Another feisty woman.
So they moved into Belturbet and my great grandfather went from being a farmer to a laborer. They first lived in an apartment in a disused brewery (now gone) and then, by 1901, were living in the house above. Not an easy life. No wonder Grandma burned all letters from Ireland. My mother and aunt may have known something about Grandma's life and their relatives but they never passed it along to my cousin nor I and they died when both of us were in our teens/early 20s.
Back to modern times, I did spend an hour and a half photographing the headstones in Staghall St. Mary's, which would have been the family church
Although I photographed all of the older sections (barring a few that were illegible) I didn't find any headstone that directly relates to my Reillys. There IS one very old one that MIGHT be my great great grandfather's, but I can't say for sure.
I met my genealogist friend, 83-year-old Viola Wiggins, for lunch and she drove me back to the hotel. Vi is a wonderful person, will help anyone who has relatives in Cavan and Fermanagh. I "met" her about 10 years ago on a genealogical group list-serve and have met her in person once before. She is a wild driver, I still remember hanging on for dear life as we careered around the back roads of Fermanagh. Now that I am an Irish driver myself, she doesn't scare me half as much :)
We headed back to Dunmore East on Wednesday, an all-day journey. As I looked at the crowds of people in Dublin, I thought of the slaughter that had taken place in Manchester two days before. So totally heinous. It was a lovely sunny day and people were about their business on Dublin streets, taking the LUAS, buses, the train. It should be a right, to be able to feel safe, but it isn't anymore. And that is so tragically sad.
Taking the Waterford train was delightful. Modern, clean and very quiet. It's a two-hour ride from Waterford to Dublin. We arrived at 9:00 a.m., quickly found the right bus that dropped us off a five-minute walk from the Canadian Embassy. Buses in Dublin move VERY slowly. We learned on our return trip that the LUAS (Light Rail) is much better. If you are ever visiting Dublin I recommend either the LUAS or simply walking. I find Dublin very walkable.
Still, I arrived at the Embassy at 10:00 a.m. and joy of joys, I was the first one there. It took about 40 minutes to get through the bureaucracy, pay the fee and my Canadian passport should be sent in the mail in about three weeks. I need it to go back to the U.S. as my green card is tied to my Canadian information. Even for a visit.
I was so excited about getting through the passport headache that I took a photo of a canal boat; you can barely see the modern building behind it--the Canadian Embassy is in that building.
After a quick lunch, we walked about 25 minutes to the Busaras (Bus) Station. Thank goodness for rolling weekend cases!! It would have been a painful shlep otherwise. I also need to say a word for the joy of smart phones. Not only did my phone give me the information of when the next bus would be leaving for Cavan but it also is my street GPS tracker. Even Richard with his great sense of direction wouldn't have been able to wind his way through all the streets of Dublin to the Bus Station easily.
The bus ride to Slieve Russell was a little under 2 hours. We had to change at Belturbet, where my grandmother and great grandparents lived over 100 years ago. It isn't a very pretty town and I have never had any luck finding anyone connected to, or with knowledge of, the family. Still this is a photo of the house they were living in when the 1901 and 1911 censuses were taken. Yes, ironic that the pub to the right is called The Yukon Bar. It wouldn't have been called that back then; I think the name is about 21 years old which is when the current owners bought it. I think the name originated because the owner was traveling in Canada and liked the name "Yukon." Or something like that. I have been in the pub many years ago--I think it was a Gay Pride night because I was very definitely not batting on the right side.
My great grandparents lived in that house--they may not even have had the whole house--with six of their children. They had had 11 and 7 survived to adulthood. My grandmother, as the oldest daughter, was not living with them in 1901 even though she would only have been 16. With that many children, the oldest daughter had to go out to work at a young age. I have never been able to find out where she went at first. All I know is that according to the 1911 Canada Census, she said that she came to Canada in 1906. Family lore is that she worked in an aunt's boardinghouse in Quebec City where she met my grandfather. They married in 1910 and shortly moved on to Joliette--grandpa worked for the Grand Trunk Railway--where my mother was born in 1912. Feisty lady that she was, she took my infant mother to Ireland to see the family shortly after Mom was born. As Mom was born in May, they probably sailed in July and returned in November (I know when they returned, not when they left.) Since we barely survive plane travel, I cannot imagine sailing from Quebec to Ireland in 1912 with a small infant. And then back again. Then again my father's mother sailed from Quebec to Liverpool when she was pregnant with a five year old boy in tow! Strong women.
Leaving the past behind, it was a short (thank goodness!) bus ride to Slieve Russell and we were both enchanted by the beautiful hotel and grounds.
The paintings in the foyer reflect the "traditional" Cavan countryside, the kind of country that my ancestors would have been familiar with. I have found records for my Reilly ancestors that show they were farming in Drumrush, about 8 kms from where Slieve Russell is, in the early 1800s. And that is only when the records started, they were here long before that.
The Hotel is so far above what my ancestors would ever have dreamt of. Beautiful decor, comfortable room with enormous bathroom (probably as big as a bedroom in a croft), plentiful food.... We can never understand how our ancestors really lived, only impose our own assumptions on them based on a comparison of how we live now and what we now of what little they had.
The day after our arrival Richard stayed at the Hotel enjoying the comfy sitting areas, the walk, etc., etc., while I took the bus back to Belturbet. I met with a couple of local historians but they could only explain some of the general history of the area (which I already knew) but nothing about my family. I can piece together a kind of narrative of though. My great grandparents lived on the family farm in Drumrush after their marriage in 1882; they had a small croft together with several of the Reilly brothers. After their fifth child was born in 1888, the land was just not enough for them to support themselves. Also, I found a record a few years ago in the Irish Petty Sessions, that noted that my great grandmother had taken a pitchfork to a neighbor over a dispute about land boundaries. Another feisty woman.
So they moved into Belturbet and my great grandfather went from being a farmer to a laborer. They first lived in an apartment in a disused brewery (now gone) and then, by 1901, were living in the house above. Not an easy life. No wonder Grandma burned all letters from Ireland. My mother and aunt may have known something about Grandma's life and their relatives but they never passed it along to my cousin nor I and they died when both of us were in our teens/early 20s.
Back to modern times, I did spend an hour and a half photographing the headstones in Staghall St. Mary's, which would have been the family church
Although I photographed all of the older sections (barring a few that were illegible) I didn't find any headstone that directly relates to my Reillys. There IS one very old one that MIGHT be my great great grandfather's, but I can't say for sure.
I met my genealogist friend, 83-year-old Viola Wiggins, for lunch and she drove me back to the hotel. Vi is a wonderful person, will help anyone who has relatives in Cavan and Fermanagh. I "met" her about 10 years ago on a genealogical group list-serve and have met her in person once before. She is a wild driver, I still remember hanging on for dear life as we careered around the back roads of Fermanagh. Now that I am an Irish driver myself, she doesn't scare me half as much :)
We headed back to Dunmore East on Wednesday, an all-day journey. As I looked at the crowds of people in Dublin, I thought of the slaughter that had taken place in Manchester two days before. So totally heinous. It was a lovely sunny day and people were about their business on Dublin streets, taking the LUAS, buses, the train. It should be a right, to be able to feel safe, but it isn't anymore. And that is so tragically sad.
Comments
Post a Comment