Exhibit at Cobh Heritage Center |
Counties
Tipperary & Cork
Daniel Mullane and Brigid English were
elusive when my daughter and I walked the streets of Clonmel. Looking for
genealogical evidence of their lives there was even more elusive. I was not as
prepared as I should have been.
Back in Dublin, the gentleman at the
National Archives of Ireland suggested I visit the South Tipperary Archives at
Carigeen Business Park in Clonmel. They would have voter’s lists and burial
registers. After much driving around and asking for directions we did find the
archives. However, they are open by appointment only and I was unable to make a
connection with the archivist to make an appointment.
We were there, in the town my family
had lived in for one hundred years but I was not connecting with them.
We drove northwest to Cashel. In the
past I had emailed the Bru Boru Cultural Center at the Rock of Cashel. I knew
they had a wealth of information and decided to visit in person to see what
else I could learn. When we arrived we found a building with a shop for Irish souvenirs.
When I asked about the genealogy center, rather than pointing me to a record
room of some kind, Diedre was sent for. I had emailed her in past years and it
was nice to meet her in person but I soon discovered that, once again, I was
not prepared. The Cultural Center was not a place where patrons can search
records. Diedre said they had nothing more than I already knew about the
Mullanes. She did disappear to see if she could find out where the Mullane tombstone
is located but was unable to find that out.
I was discouraged. I had hoped to see
the tombstone for Daniel Mullane & Brigid English. It was one of my primary
goals for my trip. I’ve seen it in old black and white family movies but I do
not know what cemetery it is in, despite many attempts to find it. Before the
trip I had written to the churches in Clonmel, contacted owners of Clonmel
websites and searched the Family History Library in Salt Lake City for information
on Clonmel cemeteries. I had hoped to visit the stone and leave flowers and a
prayer.
While we were in Cashel my daughter
and I walked up the sizeable hill to see the Rock of Cashel, also known as St.
Patrick’s Rock, once the home of the High Kings of Munster. Most of the
buildings date from the 12th and 13th centuries. It is a spectacular
sight: the massive ruins, the view of the valley below and the enduring Celtic
crosses standing in silent remembrance of days gone by.
There was one more place I wanted to
visit, Cobh, once called Queenstown. Between 1848 and 1950 two and a half
million people emigrated from Ireland through the harbor in Cobh, heading to
Canada, the United States and Australia. My great grandmother, Mary Josephine
Mullane Coyle, was just one of my ancestors who left the green hills of Ireland
from Cobh. She left in May 1885 and sailed for New York City where she would
meet and marry Michael Coyle [who had left from the same harbour several days before her] and raise seven children.
I wanted to see the harbor and visit
the small Heritage Center with its exhibit about emigration. I was expecting a
quiet visit there. It was a good plan. We had not, however, planned on the 100th
anniversary of the sailing of the Titanic. The last port of call for the Titanic
was Cobh and when we arrived a festival was underway. The narrow streets were
lined with parked cars with made driving almost impossible. The parked and
passing cars were so close we had to turn in our side mirrors to avoid hitting
them. The sidewalks were filled with people in Titanic T-shirts or even life
jackets. There was live Celtic music in the waterside park. My daughter managed
to park and we walked back towards the Heritage Center. Each shop window was
decorated with Titanic posters or a clock, walking stick, piece of clothing or
other antique that supposedly had a connection to the Titanic. Lines of
people waited to go in the shops and pubs. We managed to get down the sidewalk
to the Heritage Center. We did see the little exhibit about emigration but with
all the clamour about Titanic it was difficult to get the feeling of a red haired,
18 year old Mary Jo leaving her family behind for an unknown future.
As we left the center, rain poured down and despite our rain gear we were drenched by the time we got back to our little rental car. We put Cobh and the Mullane side of the
family behind us and headed for the Blarney Castle Hotel where we spent a
delightful evening.
Oh Colleen, I can feel your disappointment. But what a day to be in Cobh!
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