few Catholics had left Ireland. Besides legal restrictions on their movement, not lifted until 1827, both poverty and an emotional tie to their ancestral land kept most in Ireland. Between 1827 and 1837, 400,000 souls had clambered aboard ships leaving Belfast, Dublin, Sligo, Waterford and Youghal. Those who could afford it headed for America: the less costly option was Canada, whence many planned to walk south. The cheapest option was the ferry fare to mainland Britain. Most Irish Catholics, however, were still in Ireland when disaster struck.
In 1845, an American disease, phytophthora infestans, ‘potato blight’, swept Ireland. Exacerbated by three weeks’ heavy rain at harvest time, it destroyed 30–40 per cent of the crop. The Fear-Gorta stalked the land again, and people were forced to eat the parts of the crop they would otherwise have sold to pay their rent. Connacht, west Munster and rural Ulster were the worst affected, but nowhere was unaffected, and starvation even spread to the towns. If the blight had lessened in 1846, conditions might have eased, but instead it struck even harder, reducing 95 per cent of the year’s crop to rotten slime. The cruellest irony is that people knew that every surviving potato they ate meant one less to plant next year: although the blight eased in 1847, the potato yield was a mere 10 per cent of what it had been in 1844.
The Internet
Computers are readily available in libraries or internet cafés (or friends’ houses!). If you don’t use the Internet already, I would strongly recommend learning from a friend or joining a class, as it will make tracing your Irish roots vastly easier. If you absolutely can’t bear the idea, ask an Internet-savvy friend or relative to do your look-ups for you.
The Internet is a vast, random whirlpool of information. Besides the research sites recommended later on, there are several excellent ones that put like-minded genealogists in touch with each other, such as the British www.genesreunited.com, American www.onegreatfamily.com and www.ancestry.com/uk which is American and British – though there’s much overlap, especially for Ireland. You enter names, dates and places for your family and the sites tell you if anyone else has entered the same ancestors. Equally, when new ancestors join and enter the same relatives, they’ll easily find you. It’s a new method, that really works.
The online route to Wogan’s roots
One Irish trait you’ll encounter often is a love of storytelling. To trace the family tree of Irish broadcaster and disc-jockey Terry Wogan for Family History Monthly I keyed ‘Wogan’ and ‘genealogy’ into an Internet search engine – www.google.com and www.altavista.com are two good ones. I quickly came up with The Wogan Genealogy Site, www.wogan.info, whose webmaster, Ken Wogan, put me in touch with Joanne Hartung, whose sister Nancy Dreicer had traced a link with Terry. Two days after starting, I had an email from Nancy, telling me about her grandfather Thomas Joseph Wogan, who was Terry’s great-uncle. Thomas had migrated from Enniskerry, Co. Wexford, to New York’s Ellis Island on the Lusitania in 1908. ‘He was a charmer’, Nancy wrote, ‘with a Shakespeare quote for any occasion.’ Thomas became the sommelier at the Statler Hilton Hotel, Philadelphia, until one day he vanished. An astonishing two weeks later, Thomas was finally found – in the furthest reaches of the hotel’s wine cellar! It transpired that he had gone down a fortnight earlier for a tipple, but had so many that he’d lost track of time. He left the hotel with no job and, one assumes, a very sore head. That’s typical of the family stories you’ll hear when you ask around – and maybe it betrays my own Irish genes that I’ve retold you the same tale now.
Workhouses
Ireland’s 163 Poor Law Unions, each with its own workhouse, were established to distribute relief to the poor in 1838, uncannily anticipating the Great Famine. Before then, relief had been ‘outdoor’, handed out to people in their own homes, but from 1838, if you wanted help, you had to submit to the appalling conditions of the workhouses.
Workhouses were supposed to be unpleasant enough to discourage all but the genuinely needy. Life for most, however, was so bad that, as one of the Poor Law Commissioners wrote, ‘it must be obvious to anyone conversant with the habits and mode of living of the Irish people that to establish a dietary [system] in the workhouse inferior to the ordinary diet of the poor classes would be difficult, if not, in many cases, impossible.’ Instead, the authorities enforced draconian working regimes lasting 7 am to 8 pm, with card-playing and alcohol banned and most misdemeanours punishable by flogging.
Thanks to the Great Famine, the workhouses were overflowing by autumn 1845. Disease became rife, and the way to the workhouse became known as Cosan na Marbh – ‘the pathway of the dead’. Up to 25 per cent of those admitted died, along with many staff: even Lord Lurgan, chairman of the Lurgan Board of Guardians of the Poor, succumbed to fever in 1847. In 1848, outdoor relief was adopted again, but for many it was far too late.
Workhouse records
The few workhouse records that survive are available on MMF, as catalogued in Ryan (see p. 9) and detailed in D. Lindsay and D. Fitzpatrick, Records of the Irish Famine, a Guide to Local Archives, 1840–55 (Dublin Irish Famine Network, 1993). See also J. O’Connor, The Workhouses of Ireland (Anvil Books, 1995). PRONI has records from 27 Unions, 1838–48; those for Eire are in local archives, with Co. Mayo’s at NLI. Records include birth and death registers, punishment and admission records – the latter stating name, gender, age, marital condition, family relationships, denomination, townland and date of departure (often actually the date of death). See also http://www.askaboutireland.ie/search.do?search_string=workhouses.
For a key to abbreviations used, see p. 9.
The Irish Diaspora
Emaciated, rag-clad and tinged green by starvation, with an average life-expectancy of 19 years, the stark choice faced by many Irish people during the Great Famine in 1845 was migrate, or die. Some 1.5 million people left for America, 340,000 for Canada, 300,000 for mainland Britain and 70,000 for Australia. Large numbers sailed west in ‘coffin ships’, unseaworthy vessels pressed into service by necessity and the owners’ venality. Some ships sank as soon as they had left port and others far out at sea. Passengers typically were unable to afford enough supplies, or had no idea the voyage could take 4–6 weeks, so many starved, and disease was rife.
They left behind a debilitated population, most of whom yearned to escape. Though the exodus slowed after 1855, migration had become a normal expectation. Many left due to terrible weather and crop failures between 1879 and 1888. Uniquely in Europe, Ireland’s population shrunk, from 8 million in 1841 to only 4 million in 1921. By 1891, 43 per cent of living Irish-born people were resident abroad. It is only in the last couple of decades that Ireland’s ‘Tiger’ economy has improved and immigration has started to reverse the trend.
The famine migrants belong to a much broader trend of emigration, due mainly to English interference and economic depression, starting with the Wild Geese (see p. 207) in the 17th century and only effectively ending a few decades ago. The legacy of 400 years’ emigration is that an estimated 70 million people living outside Ireland have Irish roots. Because the famine drove both genders to migrate in equal numbers, fully-Irish communities were established all over the world. Equally, many of the estimated 70 million have some Irish ancestry mixed in with much other blood.
Much depends on perception: descents from downtrodden groups, such as Jews or black slaves, have become marks of proud distinction, to be sought after in otherwise dull family trees. And, far from being synonymous with terrorism, as it was 20 years ago, Irishness has resumed its gorgeous ancient mantle, velvet green shot through with
