Today we have a quest post from my friend Suzanne who lives in Northern Ireland. We started chatting a little over two years ago through RootsChat and found out we had a lot in common! Outside of Family History we are both avid readers and knitters.
She's helped me tremedously with my Irish Ancestors! Just before Christmas I asked Suzanne if she would be interested in writing up a guest post about Researching in Northern Ireland..
Without further ado...
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At the age of 29, a long term health condition forced me to “slow down” and take life at a much easier pace than I had previously done before. Family History was not an obvious hobby to take up at my age, as in the past I had quietly chuckled at those who were genealogy enthusiasts, secretly thinking it was a bit dull and boring and “only for old folks and Americans”. My mother had begged me for years to look into her tree, but I simply was too busy with a hectic social life and work and just wasn’t really interested.
Until one day, five years ago I was browsing the net. I came across a website containing birth death and marriage transcriptions for my county. I suddenly thought about my mum’s eternal request and her mother’s name popped into my head. Now, I thought, I bet there’s no way on earth she’ll be found here…… so I typed in the name and….. I got the shock of my life when her name appeared in the results. It was the only result, so I knew it was her. In a trice I had bought the record and I’ll never ever forget that thrill of excitement I felt when I read the information! That was me- hooked on the spot and still hooked five years later!
From there, things progressed quite quickly. As most genealogists are aware, a tree with Irish ancestors is not easy to research! Our precious records were mostly burned in a fire in Dublin in 1922- including most census information. The first complete surviving census was taken in 1901. 1911 also survives today in its entirety. Aside from that, the most valuable resources are Birth Death and Marriage records, The Griffiths Valuation, Street Directories, and Wills and of course parish records, where they exist.
Civil registration of Non-Catholic marriages began in 1845, whereas all births, deaths and marriages were required to be registered from 1864 onwards. Of course, it was several years before this law was properly observed by all. So, whilst it is a great place to starts looking for that elusive Irish ancestor, sadly not all such events were registered with the authorities. For example, the deaths of my great great great grandparents Arthur and Maria Magee do not appear to be registered, even though I am certain they died after 1864.
The most useful resource to anyone researching in Northern Ireland, is the Public Records Office of Northern Ireland. The website contains various resources such as The Ulster Covenant, which is a list of names of those who signed Carson’s petition against Home Rule in 1912. It also has a wealth of information contained in searchable Street Directories, as well as the newly launched digitised images of wills in the Wills Calendar section. Note that the actual PRONI building (which holds the microfiche copies of old Parish Registers) is currently closed as it has relocated to the prestigious and more accessible location of the new Titanic Quarter in Belfast.
The Griffiths Valuation was the first full scale valuation of property in Ireland, carried out by Richard Griffiths and published between 1847 and 1864. It is one of the most important pre-civil registration resources as it lists the names of every head of household. It can be found here: Griffith's Valuation
In the five years of researching my family tree on both my mother’s and father’s side, I feel like I have been on a journey round the world with them! On my mother’s side they originated from lowland Scotland, then to County Tyrone and then, in the 1860’s they came to Belfast to find work in the rapidly expanding city. The women mainly worked in the mills and factories whilst the men worked in foundries or laboured at the shipyards.
On my father’s side, his grandfather’s entire family immigrated to Australia, leaving him behind. That was one of the most exciting discoveries, tracing their family from deepest darkest County Fermanagh all the way to Yan Yean, Victoria, Australia! In both families there have been joys and tragedies, scandals and secrets. The most wonderful part of researching your family tree is that it will never be finished, and there is always another elusive ancestor out there just waiting to be found.
Thank you so much Suzanne!
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Monday, November 15, 2010
Military Monday - Guest Post with Matt Reay
Not long ago I did an interview with Matt Reay, a fellow family history buff. We met quite a while ago now in a Genealogy chatroom. He's a very talented writer and is passionate about his family history.
He was nice enough to do a guest post today for Military Monday!
Enjoy!!
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Hello, all!
Firstly, I would like to say thank you to Aislynn for asking me to put up a guest post on this, the most interesting and homely of blogs on genealogy I have seen. It’s a privilege to be able to contribute to such a thing, so cheers, Ais!
I have chosen to write about Remembrance as a theme for this post, on “Military Monday”. Also, it is rather timely I think, so the two merge rather well.
As nations all around the world come together in unity to remember those who gave their lives in field of battle, we remember how much of a crucial role military plays in our family trees, too. Almost without exception, especially for those living in the United Kingdom as I do, or France, Germany, Canada and the United States, at some point a story will be told or a discovery made involving a letter or a photograph concerning a relative who fought or joined the services perhaps as a career choice. Whether we see it as good or not, the military has been and remains an area of genealogy we expect to approach at some stage in researching.
Researching a military ancestor is personally one of the most rewarding and interesting parts of genealogy. I am a military boffin myself and I ‘m always wanting to find out more about the different battles and conditions of the wars that tore such a hole into my family. It’s not as long ago as one might think, if you consider that only three generations separate us now, from them, then. Service records and medals make the research worth all of the waiting and anticipation, regardless of how long it takes to manifest.
But at the same time, war is something you never hope to encounter in your own family. You expect it, but hope there will be damage limitation in the field of the unknown. There can be no more destructive event than war. What we see, particularly in the two World Wars, is an entire generation of young men bearing arms in the pursuit of the protection of freedom, with casualties that number more than the people we cross in the street in our entire lifetime. It’s important we remember not only there stories but their sacrifice. It takes great courage for anybody to lay down their life for their family and friends.
It is with this sentiment that I wrote the following poem, which I am giving to the subscribers of this blog as the centrepiece of my post. It concerns a group of friends who experience the horrors of war on a battlefield in Belgium in 1917.
Oor War Wi Mick
Wake up in the mornin’ at quarter past five
And ready yourself fae the day
Heavin’ and diggin’ the coal out the ground
With nought but a shilling for pay
Wi mammy and pappy and wee brother Jack
I grew up in Cambuslang town
In from a shift dressed as dark as the day
There’d be tatties and haggis all round
For life was a straight narrow road back then
And I had all my pals around too
In the Old Dog at night with Jack, Billy and Mick
We’d sit down and throw back the brew
Then a call from the foreign green fields of the war
Came swiftly and fell on our ears
A great fight fae freedom the generals proclaimed
A hero and back by the end of the year
I was given a hat and an old British rifle
They measured me up in the tent
In a day I was numbered a soldier fae battle
From mammy and mining I went.
Billy was drafted in second battalion
Whilst Mick, Jack and I went tae third
We left for the continent blank but uplifted
And never shared more than a word
As days went on by I went down in the trenches
Lived life as do rats in the ground
And saw many sons disappear in the mist
As the Highlanders ran up the mounds.
Then over my head came a thick bastard gas
And whistles blew endlessly well
Mick died in my arms as I reached for his gasmask
And the great fight for freedom yellowed to hell.
We buried Mick up on the mound the next day
When the fighting and land had been won
We prayed that his mammy would know in her mind
That his service te Scotland was done.
Oh and when we were told that the guns had gone silent
That this bloody campaign was nae more
We cried for our lives and the buddies we’d lost
Te the mud and the horrors o’ war.
Yet as the years pass we’re still drinking away
Remembering Mick as we do so
For the lives left behind and the family we’ve grown
Owe him more than then they ever will know
We must remember people like these. I think this is an appropriate place to end so I shall do so with these words.
“They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.”
Thank you for reading.
Matt Reay
He was nice enough to do a guest post today for Military Monday!
Enjoy!!
------------------------------------------------------
Hello, all!
Firstly, I would like to say thank you to Aislynn for asking me to put up a guest post on this, the most interesting and homely of blogs on genealogy I have seen. It’s a privilege to be able to contribute to such a thing, so cheers, Ais!
I have chosen to write about Remembrance as a theme for this post, on “Military Monday”. Also, it is rather timely I think, so the two merge rather well.
As nations all around the world come together in unity to remember those who gave their lives in field of battle, we remember how much of a crucial role military plays in our family trees, too. Almost without exception, especially for those living in the United Kingdom as I do, or France, Germany, Canada and the United States, at some point a story will be told or a discovery made involving a letter or a photograph concerning a relative who fought or joined the services perhaps as a career choice. Whether we see it as good or not, the military has been and remains an area of genealogy we expect to approach at some stage in researching.
Researching a military ancestor is personally one of the most rewarding and interesting parts of genealogy. I am a military boffin myself and I ‘m always wanting to find out more about the different battles and conditions of the wars that tore such a hole into my family. It’s not as long ago as one might think, if you consider that only three generations separate us now, from them, then. Service records and medals make the research worth all of the waiting and anticipation, regardless of how long it takes to manifest.
But at the same time, war is something you never hope to encounter in your own family. You expect it, but hope there will be damage limitation in the field of the unknown. There can be no more destructive event than war. What we see, particularly in the two World Wars, is an entire generation of young men bearing arms in the pursuit of the protection of freedom, with casualties that number more than the people we cross in the street in our entire lifetime. It’s important we remember not only there stories but their sacrifice. It takes great courage for anybody to lay down their life for their family and friends.
It is with this sentiment that I wrote the following poem, which I am giving to the subscribers of this blog as the centrepiece of my post. It concerns a group of friends who experience the horrors of war on a battlefield in Belgium in 1917.
Oor War Wi Mick
Wake up in the mornin’ at quarter past five
And ready yourself fae the day
Heavin’ and diggin’ the coal out the ground
With nought but a shilling for pay
Wi mammy and pappy and wee brother Jack
I grew up in Cambuslang town
In from a shift dressed as dark as the day
There’d be tatties and haggis all round
For life was a straight narrow road back then
And I had all my pals around too
In the Old Dog at night with Jack, Billy and Mick
We’d sit down and throw back the brew
Then a call from the foreign green fields of the war
Came swiftly and fell on our ears
A great fight fae freedom the generals proclaimed
A hero and back by the end of the year
I was given a hat and an old British rifle
They measured me up in the tent
In a day I was numbered a soldier fae battle
From mammy and mining I went.
Billy was drafted in second battalion
Whilst Mick, Jack and I went tae third
We left for the continent blank but uplifted
And never shared more than a word
As days went on by I went down in the trenches
Lived life as do rats in the ground
And saw many sons disappear in the mist
As the Highlanders ran up the mounds.
Then over my head came a thick bastard gas
And whistles blew endlessly well
Mick died in my arms as I reached for his gasmask
And the great fight for freedom yellowed to hell.
We buried Mick up on the mound the next day
When the fighting and land had been won
We prayed that his mammy would know in her mind
That his service te Scotland was done.
Oh and when we were told that the guns had gone silent
That this bloody campaign was nae more
We cried for our lives and the buddies we’d lost
Te the mud and the horrors o’ war.
Yet as the years pass we’re still drinking away
Remembering Mick as we do so
For the lives left behind and the family we’ve grown
Owe him more than then they ever will know
We must remember people like these. I think this is an appropriate place to end so I shall do so with these words.
“They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.”
Thank you for reading.
Matt Reay
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