Whether you are climbing your family tree or interested in social history, local place names or folklore we welcome you to Glenmore-History.com and hope that you enjoy your visit.
L A T E S T P O S T S
From Danny’s Files: Rev. Fr. John Fitzpatrick (c. 1758-1835) P.P. of Slieverue-Glenmore
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The Tragic Death of John Millea (1870-1935) of Treanaree, Slieverue
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Family Tree Workshop 2026 Photos & Forms
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More Glenmore Photos: From the Eamon Jones Collection
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Family Tree Workshop & Upcoming Lecture
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From Glenmore to Ontario, Canada: Maurice Denn (1825-1873)
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From Danny’s Files: The 1985 Interview of Dinny Murphy (1901-1986) of Milltown, Glenmore
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Marking Founder’s Birthday: Tracing Your Family Tree Workshop
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Kate Raftice née Gahan (1854-1925) of Rochestown, Glenmore
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South Kilkenny Historical Society 2026
[Updated] A Deadly Sunday Outing on the River Barrow: James Cassin, of Carrigcloney, Glenmore (c. 1868-1907)
Last summer when we were discussing the disappearance of Peter Forristal in 1916, Danny Dowling spoke about how Forristal and other young men who lived near the River Barrow often rowed across the River Barrow on Sundays to drink in a pub in Ballykelly. Glenmore was a dry parish where no alcohol was legally sold. For many living along the River Barrow the nearest pub was across the river in Wexford.
In about 1870 the then parish priest forced all three pubs in Glenmore Village to close. A pub on the edge of the parish, the Shanty, lost its license shortly after the railway was built in 1904. Glenmore Parish Priest, Father Phelan was instrumental in that pub losing its license. After the pubs in and near Glenmore parish closed Glenmore remained a dry parish until 1963. Danny noted that the failure to allow a pub to operate in Glenmore parish sometimes led to tragedy as Glenmore people travelled to have a couple of pints. Today, we are going to highlight a 1907 tragedy that resulted in the death of a Carrigcloney, Glenmore man.
James Cassin, a married labourer, living in Carrigcloney, Glenmore drowned on the 15th of September 1907 in the River Barrow near Rochestown, Glenmore. The New Ross Standard on Friday the 20th of September published details concerning his death and inquest. The following information was gleaned from this article.
On Sunday the 15th of September 1907 James Cashen (sic) drowned leaving a wife and six children. It was reported that Cassin was employed in Cody’s, brickyards of Glenmore. Although the newspaper reported that the drowning took place at the “Blackrock” on the Wexford shore about midway between Aylwardstown and Rochestown, as reported in a previous blog post, the Blackrock Quay, of Rochestown, is where the ferry for the Ida steamship picked up Kilkenny passengers (see, https://glenmore-history.com/the-ida/).
It also was reported that some Rosbercon chaps were on the river in a “freakish, unreliable cot,” which they abandoned on the Carrigcloney bank of the river. They took a prong and left the cot on the river bank. Cassin, Tom Kelly and Michael Power went to the river and when they discovered that the prong was missing they got into the “freakish” cot and rowed to Ballinlaw. Ballinlaw is on the Kilkenny side of the river south of Carrigcloney. However, given other statements in the newspaper, it is likely that the three men rowed across the river, visited a Wexford pub, and while rowing back across the river the cot capsized.
A “girl” named Hannah Holden, of Fisherstown hillside of Co. Wexford heard the cries of two men clinging to the half sunken cot. She never saw the third man in the river. Hannah Holden ran “for all she was worth to the nearest house, that of James Kinsella, the only man who happened to be about for miles around. Kinsella, a delicate little man, who has to exist on a small out-door relief pittance barely sufficient to keep body and soul together, turned out to the rescue, trying to feel as brave as a lion, though inwardly quaking for fear of being unable to save his poor fellow-mortals from an awful death”
Kinsella and Hannah shouted words of encouragement to the two men. There was no boat in the slip, so Kinsella, Hannah and a young boy dragged a boat from a yard and across forty feet of deep mud to launch it into the river. It was recorded that Kinsella was so overcome with fear of being too late, that he could not “bear to look on the wretched strugglers, whose strength was fast ebbing, as evidenced by the weakening of their terrified appeals.” When the prong was afloat Kinsella took the oars and the young boy acted as his guide. “While he sculled to the wreck near the middle of the river…with great expertness as a river-man, Kinsella got his boat stern on to the drowning men, so as to avoid a second, capsize, and hauled the two exhausted men into the prong.” It was noted that this rescue was not the first time Kinsella saved lives on the river. “Brave Kinsella is sorely grieved that he was not about in time to save all three.”
Cassin’s body was found on Monday evening and the inquest was held on Tuesday afternoon. The South Kilkenny Coroner, Dr. Walsh of Graiguenamanagh held the inquest which returned a verdict of accidental suffocation. The inquest learned that the three men had three pints of beer taken, and “it is some consolation for the poor widow to know that the lost husband was quite sober when death overtook him.” It was reported that the cot was a featherweight racing skiff brought down river that day by three young lads from the New Ross area named Dooley, Fitzgerald and Kavanagh. Cassin could not swim and being unable to grasp the upturned cot, he “could make no fight for life.” It was revealed that Kelly and Power could swim, but they were handicapped by their clothes and boots. They spent nearly an hour hanging on “for dear life” to the cot before Kinsella rescued them.
Lastly, it was reported that the remains of poor Cassin were laid to rest in the Glenmore graveyard on Tuesday evening. He was a son of Andrew Cassin, of Kilmacow, and a relative of the Cashens of Listerlin. His funeral was reported as being one of the largest funeral gatherings ever assembled in Glenmore. Although it was reported that he worked in the brickyards, it also stated that the deceased was esteemed and one of the best and most conscientious farm workers in South Kilkenny.
The Munster Express (“Boating Fatality on the River Barrow,” 21 Sept. 1907) and Kilkenny People (“Young Man Drowned, Heroism of a Young Lady,” 21 Sept. 1907) also reported the drowning, but both credited a Miss Costelloe of hearing the cries of all three men and rowing to them. Miss Costelloe was able to save two of the men but they watched in horror as Cassin sank from sight. No mention is made of James Kinsella or the young boy. The name of the deceased was incorrectly listed as John Cashen rather than James Cassin.
The Widow and Children
The 1901 Census for Carrigcloney, Glenmore provides that James Cassin (aged 33) was married to Ellen (aged 22) and their eldest child James was a year old and their second son John was three months old. A marriage record was then found for James Cassin and Ellen Malone. The couple married on the 13th of September 1899 in Piltown. James was listed as a labourer the son of James Cassin, also a labourer. It appears that the New Ross Standard erroneously listed his father as Andrew Cassin. The bride Ellen Malone, was listed as a farmer in Garryduff and she was the daughter of John Malone, farmer. The following birth certs were located for the six children of the couple all born at Carrigcloney, Glenmore: [1] James Cassin was born on the 23rd of December 1899; [2] John Cassin was born on the 15th December 1900; [3] Michael Cassin was born on the 14th of August 1904; [located by Adam Cashin] [4] Margaret Cassin was born on the 1st of April 1902; [5] Mary Cassin was born on the 7th May 1903; [6] Anastatia Cassin was born 15 November 1906 and [7] Ellen Cassin was born on the 22nd of February 1908 five months after her father’s death.
[UPDATED] The Cassin family could not be located in 1911 Census for Carrigcloney, Glenmore. However, Adam Cashin located the family in the 1911 Census living in Cappagh, Glenmore. Ellen Cashin (sic) was a widow, aged 32. The following children are living with their mother: John, aged 11; Michael, aged 6; Statia, aged 4 and Ellie aged 3. A nine year old named Margaret Cassin was found living as a boarder in the home of Johanna Devine a 60 year old widow, farmer in Old Court, Templeorum, Kilkenny. A ten year old James Cassin was living in Tullagher, Listerlin, Kilkenny in the home of Ellen Cassin a 68 year old widow. James is listed as an undefined “relative.” Also present in the house are Ellen’s sons Michael and Thomas Cassin, aged 40 and 36 respectively. Michael and Thomas Cassin are boot and shoe makers.
[UPDATED] The Cassin headstone was located in Glenmore cemetery. The inscription is as follows:
In loving memory of James Cassin Glenmore Died 9th Sept 1907 Aged 39 yrs His wife Ellen Died 31st July 1963 Aged 85 yrs Their son John Died 7th Nov 1943 Aged 41 yrs Their daughters Margaret Died 2nd Jan 1926 Aged 24 yrs Ellen McBride Died 2nd Sept 1976 Aged 68 yrs Anastasia Doyle Died 1st Oct 1996 Aged 90 yrs
[UPDATED] The death cert for Ellen Cassin née Malone (c. 1879-1963) provides that she was still living in Cappagh, Glenmore when she died in 1963 at the age of 84. Her daughter, Ellen McBride was present when she died.
The Rescuers: James Kinsella (c. 1843-1909) & Hannah Howlen (c. 1879- )
In the 1901 Census of Fishertown, Wexford, James Kinsella, was 43 years old, and employed as a fisherman. The bachelor was living with his 70 year old widowed mother Anne Kinsella. Both James and his mother could not be located in the 1911 census. James Kinsella died on the 10th of March 1909 at the age of 56. His death cert notes that he died of heart disease and had been suffering with it for 3 years. Thus, in September 1907, when he saved the two men clinging to the capsized cot, James Kinsella was suffering from heart disease that caused his death 18 months later.
In the 1901 Census of Fishertown there is no Hannah Holden or a Costelloe family. In the house listed next to the Kinsella home was the Howlen family. Hannah Howlen, aged 22, was the daughter of Michael Howlen, aged 62 and his wife Catherine aged 63. Also in the home were Hannah’s two brothers John (aged 28) and Michael (aged 24). All three men were fishermen. We believe that Hannah Howlen was “the girl” that raised the alarm and helped Kinsella launch the rescue boat.
The Rescued Men: Tom Kelly & Michael Power
In the 1901 Census two Michael Powers were located in Glenmore. The one closest to the river was Michael Power of Rochestown, an agricultural labourer, aged 25, married to Kate Power, aged 25. The couple had two children John, aged 1 year and Patrick, aged 1 month.
In the 1901 Census there were also two Thomas Kelly’s in Glenmore. Both lived near the river, however one was 70. Therefore we believe that Thomas Kelly of Griguenakill, aged 20, a railway labourer, in 1901 may have been one of the rescued men. Thomas was the son of Catherine Kelly, aged 53 in 1901. Also present in the home was her 54 year old brother Michael Breen, a farm labourer.
The 1899 Double Drowning at Rochestown Point
Eight years prior to Cassin drowning two men drowned in the River Barrow also returning on a Sunday from a visit to a pub. In 1899 two men were also rescued while clinging to a capsized boat and ironically their name was Kelly. The 1899 double drowning may be found at https://glenmore-history.com/a-double-drowning-at-rochestown-point-in-1899/ .
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh
First Anniversary
It is hard to believe, but today is the first anniversary of the first post of Glenmore-History.com. The first post on 3 November 2019 was “Introducing the Glenmore Historian: Danny Dowling.” https://glenmore-history.com/introducing-the-glenmore-historian-danny-dowling/
Last week I asked Danny if he would like to send a message to his readers on this First Anniversary. Danny thought for a few minutes and said that he enjoys hearing from the readers all over the world who are from Glenmore or have Glenmore connections. He would like to encourage everyone to speak to and write down for their younger family members their experiences and anything they know or heard about their ancestors.
When we started last year, we had no way of knowing that a pandemic would impact on the world and close local libraries and the National Archives. Notwithstanding challenges we were able to publish 70 posts on a variety of subjects and on the website add pages dedicated to family information, obituaries, Irish words and field names, useful links and our biggest project was the recording of all inscriptions on over 500 headstones in Glenmore cemetery. Additionally guest lecturers shared their work for us to publish.
We hope that you have found the posts and pages interesting to date. In the coming year in addition to weekly posts we hope to record more headstone inscriptions and more information on Glenmore’s past and people. If you have any information, wrote an article or come across an article, or have an idea for an article we would appreciate you sending it to us at glenmore.history@gmail.com.
Thanks to everyone who helped and contributed to the success of Glenmore-History.com.
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh
James “Jim the Weaver” Walsh (1870- c. 1960) of Glenmore Village: Looking Back
Sixty-one years ago today an article appeared in the Kilkenny People entitled “Glenmore Man Looks Back” written by Peter Roughhan. This 1959 article is packed full of interesting details and names of Glenmore people including early football players and brick makers. Special thanks to Glenmore-History.com reader Kelvin Johnson Treacy who found the article and sent it on so we could share it. At the end of the article information that Danny Dowling collected over the years concerning the Weaver Walsh family is provided.
GLENMORE MAN LOOKS BACK—Often it makes me wonder if one old custom, or pastime, if you like to call it, is dead and gone in the country, for you never hear anyone using the word “cuardeact” now at all, and you scarcely ever hear anyone saying in the heel of the evening, “I’m going ‘cuardeact’ for an hour or two.” Well, I know one place around here where you needn’t wait for the heel of the evening to go and have a chat; you need only ramble into Jim Walsh’s beyond in Glenmore any time of the day and you can sit and listen to Jim ‘until the cows come home, and the last thing he’ll tell you is “don’t be long before you come again.”
When I first heard about Jim Walsh and where I could find him, it put me in mind of the story we used to hear about the lad who was going to New York to a sister of his, and his mother kept reminding of where she lived, “in the first house on the left as you go in,” Well, that’s where I happened to find Jim over in Glenmore — in the first house on the left as I went in! Honest to Goodness, I thought I went to the wrong house for I never expected him to have his coat off, and his sleeves rolled up, chopping up a skeagh tree for firing.
“Hold on a minute ’till I put this hatchet away, I don’t like leaving sharp tools lying about the place, and we’ll sit up in the haggard and have a nice quiet chat for ourselves.” And upon my word, a nice quiet chat it was. I could sit and listen to him all day, and so could anyone that’s fond of a bit of ” cuardeact.” Well, now, no one can tell a fellow’s life story better than himself, but Jim Walsh caps ’em all, for his memory can nearly take him back to the day he was born, and that was November 21, 1870.
“Aye, please God, I’ll be 89 on my next birthday, and there’s plenty of work in me yet.” And, I couldn’t say “no” to that, for he looks as fresh and healthy as a lad half his age, and still able to shave himself. “I worked hard ever since I was a lad,” says he to me, “and thank God, I never had much sickness in my life. Now would you believe it, I was born in this house where I’m living, and my father lived in the same house since he was a lad. God be good to him, Pat Walsh, he was one of the old Glenmore weavers, and my mother was Mary Haberlin of Rochestown, her father was Johnnie Haberlin, the blacksmith.”
MASTER CURRAN
IT was a Father Edward Walsh that baptised me, and Johnnie Cody and Bridget Hanrahan from the village here who stood for me. God be good to them all, sure they’re dead years and years. And so is my old schoolmaster — Master Curran — a great man to handle children, and he turned out some great scholars in the village here.”
Like a lot of the lads in Jim’s young days, he left school early. ” Aye,” says he, ” I was only nine when I had to turn out to work, and the first job I ever got was over at Denis Maher’s of Ballyvarring, I was put minding cows for a bob a week. I was living over there at the farm, and they looked after me in great style. We had plenty of good, wholesome food to eat, oaten stirabout for breakfast, no tea in those days at all, spuds and bacon for our dinner, but Friday was a devil of a day, we used to get red herrings, and then we got spuds and plenty butter, and new milk in the evening”
“I stayed there for about two years, and I can remember the boss going into Waterford one day and bringing me back a pair of boots. Sure I never wore a boot in my life ’till then, always went barefooted, and when I got them on my feet, I couldn’t walk at all in them. I used to come home every Saturday night with my bob to my mother, and as soon as I got out on the road with the new boots on I took ’em off and slung ’em around my neck and trotted the whole of the five miles home. If I kept the boots on, I wouldn’t be home yet!
They nearly made a cripple of me. I got used to ’em, but it took a long time, they were like ton weights on my feet.”
When Jim said good-bye to cowminding, he took to brickmaking in the brickyard beyond at Pill. “My father was working there” says he to me, “and he managed to get me a job over there with him. The bricks were baked in what we called clamps, and there were ten arches in each clamp, and anything between three and four thousand bricks in an arch. We used to set the fires with about five hundredweight of Welsh coal, and a bed of furze, get that going in the evening after sealing up the clamp with blue mud, and then we had to look after the fires all-night until about four in the morning. We’d draw the bricks our about dinner time, and then the whole gamut had to start again.”
MADE BY HAND
“All the bricks were made by hand. We used what they called a breastboard, and ’twas a good lad who could make about twenty bricks in half an hour. Oh, there was a great gang of lads working down there at Pill in my Days, I can remember the most of ’em; Dick Rockett of Slieverue; Dan Cody of Carrickcroney; Tom and Bill Forristal of Ballyverneen; Robin Irish of Ballinalammy; Dick Hennessey of Moulerstown; George Young; Paddy Doherty; Ned and Mick Phelan of Bigwood; Pat Murphy of Killivory, and Mickey Power of Carrickcroney.”
“I couldn’t say which of ’em dug up a full branch of deer’s antlers down below in the clay pit one day, and another of the lads came across a boar’s tusk about half-a-foot long. You’d never know what you might dig up in old places like that, but we never came across any gold at all.”
“The wages in those days making bricks wasn’t too bad. On piecework a good lad could earn about thirty shillings, but you had to keep hard at it all day to earn that. It used to be a long day working from seven in the morn ’till six in the evening, still, we were all happy down there. At dinnertime we used to have many a great hunt doing tricks and giving out riddles to good eight miles from here each other. My father was a great hand at some of the questions. I remember one day, some lad asked him how many pounds in a million farthings, and he gave him the right answer in less than no time.” Jim’s memory, of course, couldn’t go back to the time in Glenmore when the weaving was done there, but he was able to tell me a lot about what he used to hear from his father who worked at the trade. They spun for blankets and sheets in the ould days, and right opposite his door he pointed out to me the spot where the old weaving sheds stood. All the spinning of flax was done there, even for bags and sacks of all sizes.”
“This village was a lively spot in my young days,” he told me, ” we had a couple of tailors working here, and one or two shoemakers as well, there was a lot of firkin making in the village too. I often walked to the sally bogs in Kilfane to cut sallies, and the firkins were made in Furlong’s yard, but that trade is gone out now, you never hear of ’em using a butter firkin now at all.”
“I often walked from here to Coolroe bogs with my father to foot sod turf. We thought nothing of walking nine or ten miles to work then, but when I was over in England at the time of the first war, I thought I was in heaven when I used to get on a bus or a tram to go to work. Aye, I remember the time I was in a shell factory in Sheffield, and we earned great money there too. But I must tell you a good story about that factory. ‘Twas in winter time, and we couldn’t stir for snow, ’twas about four feet thick on the roads, and this Saturday night I couldn’t get back to my lodgings, so I went into a pub, and had a couple of hours there with the boys, back into the factory with me, and got into one of the furnaces where I was nice and warm. They used to let the furnaces cool down every Saturday. ‘Twas the luck of God that I had my billycan with me that night. I woke up the next morn, and I was just after stepping out of the furnace when who should walk up behind me but one of the bosses.” “Now then, Walsh,” says he to me, “what are you doing in there?” “Oh, I was only climbing jn to get my billycan out, I left it in there last night when I was finished working,” says I to him, and he believed me. “If it wasn’t for that billycan. I’d be sacked on the spot. In any case, I didn’t stay long in Sheffield after that, I went to Birmingham, and had a grand job helping a couple of fitters for a few months, I got tired of England and came back home, and got a job on the Co. Council.”
STONE-BREAKING
Well, Jim’s time on the ‘ county’ must have been nearly half his lifetime — a good forty years or so. “You know Jim Robinson, don’t you,” says he to me, “well, the man who had his job then as road surveyor was a man named Bowers, and ’twas he set me on first, and put me stonebreaking over on the side of the road near Carriganurra for fourteen bob a week. I was on that job for a long time, and then I was sent over to the quarries in Christendom to work. I used to walk there, and back every day a good eight miles from here. I went scraping the roads over at The Rower as well, and that was a good ten miles. I did every kind of a job on the roads, cleaning out ditches, cutting gullies, and the last bit of work I did on the ‘county’ was to clean out a drain beyond at the Skough bridge, and I was eighty-one years and one month then. That’s nearly nine years ago, and I had to retire then, even though I was still able to do a good day’s work. I saw some great times on the ‘ county,’ but I can tell you ’twas a devil during the last war to be out on the roads all day without a smoke of a pipe, but, I made my own tobacco, Peter, I used to dry the skin, of a furze bush, and fill my pipe with that, and I didn’t feel so bad at all, I had something to pull at anyway.”
In Jim’s spotless little kitchen he showed me a few old heirlooms, which he thought the world of. “Just look at that clock” he says to me, “do you know that ’tis hanging there for the last seventy years, and ’tis one of the first two clocks — eight-day ones — that came into Glenmore, and before my father bought that clock, he had a wall-wagger that he bought from a travelling German watchmaker for four shillings. There’s a dresser there and as ould as I am, I never remember it to be made, for ’tis over a 100 years ‘ould, and that glass press was made before I was born by a man named Sullivan over in Kearney Bay.” I couldn’t make anything like a good guess at the age of a three-legged skillet, that Jim thought the world of. Honestly, it could either be 40 or 4,000 years old. You don’t see many skillets now, butJim’s is still in good condition. Well, no chat with an old Glenmore man would ever finish without something said about football, and Jim’s not the only one who likes to rake up all the great men who used to kick for the village years ago.
We had some of the best in the country here in Glenmore,” he told me, “lads like Dick Delahunty of Aylwardstown; Ned Hartley of Weatherstown; Ned Roche of Coolnaleen; Jack Morrissey of Aylwardstown; Jack Grant of Ballinahara; Peter Flannery of Ballyhobuck; Jack Power of Robinstown; Andy Freyne of Kilbride; the two Briens from Carriganurra, John and Tom; Dick and Larry Curran from The Rower, they were sons, of old schoolmaster Curran, two great men no doubt, and two powerful lads, Pat and Dick Reddy from Kilbride. I was about 17 or 18 years of age when I saw them play in a match over in Ross, and they fisted the ball from one goal to the other. It never touched the ground, and nearly everyone of them had a clout at it, and then they scored! Sure the men in those days would walk ten or twelve miles on a Sunday to kick a football, and walk it back home again, and think nothing of it, and be up the morn after at cock-crow to do a hard day’s work. But the lads today don’t eat oaten porridge that we used to be reared on. ‘Tis all tea today, but, still, Peter, we’ll have a cup before you go,” and we did, and a good cup it was.
Well, before I leave Jim Walsh, I must say that he is one of the most interesting chaps you could have a chat with, God bless him, he is wonderful for his eighty-nine years, as happy as the day is long, and sure, we all wish him many more long years with us. God be with you, Jim, and ’twas great to sit above in your haggard, and listen to you talking about ould times.
_____
Thanks to the details in the article it was easy to locate the birth records for Jim Walsh. James Walsh was born on the 21st of November 1870 the son of Patrick Walsh, weaver, of Graiguenakill and Mary Walsh née Haberlin. He was baptized at Glenmore and his Godparents were John Cody & Bridget Hanrahan. He was the second son and one of six siblings (two boys and four girls).
His parents were married on the 16th of February 1863 at Glenmore. Witnesses to the marriage were Michael Walsh and Catherine Bolger. Mary Habberlan (sic) was baptized on the 25th of July 1845 at Rochestown and was the daughter of John Habberlan (sic) and Margaret Mackey. No birth cert could be located in the Glenmore Parish records for Patrick Walsh. According to Danny Dowling, Patrick’s father, Old Jack “the Weaver” Walsh came from the Campile are of Co. Wexford to work in Gaffney’s linen mill. The birth of Patrick’s children reveals that he worked as a weaver and sometimes as a labourer.
The known children of Paddy “The Weaver” Walsh and his wife Mary Walsh née Haberlin include:
[1] Anastatia Walsh was born on the 4th of December 1863. Godparents: Martin Kelly & Ellen Bulger. [2] Alice “Ally” Walsh was born and baptized on the 20th of July 1866. Godparents: James Kelly & Bridget Ennett. The child’s grandfather, John Walsh of Gregnakill (sic) registered this birth. The father’s occupation was listed as weaver. [3] John Walsh was born on the 30th of April 1869 and baptized on the 2nd of May 1869. Godparents: Columb Halley & Mary Maher. At the civil registration Patrick Walsh was listed as a labourer. Margaret Wallace, nurse was present at birth and registered it on the 6th of May 1869. [4] James was born in 1870. [5] Margaret Walshe born 20 Nov. 1874, baptized the following day. Godparents James Murphy & Catherine Walsh. Civil registers records father’s occupation as weaver, and Catherine Butler was present at birth and registered it on 1 Dec. 1874. [6] Mary Walshe was born 18 Aug. 1878, and baptized the following day. Godparents: William Walsh & Catherine Dunne. Mary’s birth was registered by her father on the 17th of August and he recorded his occupation as farm labourer.
“The Weaver” Walsh family lived in the first house on the left on the Churns hill road when entering the Village. In the featured photo the darker house on the left of the three attached houses is the former home of “The Weaver Walsh” family. For a rough drawing of the Village see, Glenmore Village in the 1930’s https://glenmore-history.com/glenmore-village-in-the-1930s/. Although Jim Walsh did not mention his wife or children we believe that he did marry and did have at least one child Walter Walsh and also raised a couple of step-daughters.
Unfortunately, the public death register ends in 1966. Only one James Walsh died over the age of 89 died between 1959-1966. As lively as James Walsh appeared to be when interviewed on 31 October 1959 it is difficult to believe that he died in less than a year. A 90 year old James Walsh died in the Waterford hospital in January 1960. His address was recorded as 41 Costello Place, Waterford and the Munster Express of 5 February 1960 provided that the deceased who died on that date had a son and daughters. Unfortunately, the names of the son and daughters is not provided. This James Walsh was buried in Ramsgrange, Co Wexford.
We hope that someone can provide the missing information concerning the colourful James “the Weaver” Walsh.
Special thanks to Jacqueline Walsh for the old photo of the Churns hill road in the Village of Glenmore. The photo was taken before the 1960’s when the Glenmore Pub opened. The old Village pump can be seen in the photo now where the pub is located.
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh
The Phantom Coach of Glenmore: Inspiration for a Kitty the Hare Tale?
Over the years Danny Dowling recorded the sightings of various Glenmore ghosts. Ghosts of soldiers and others, haunted houses, haunted lanes and fields were commonly experienced around the parish, but there were several sightings of a more unusual apparition, a coach drawn by four big black horses, a headless coachman with two gentry ghosts in the coach. This unusual apparition became known as the Phantom Coach. The Phantom Coach was often encountered in the Carrigcloney and Kilivory areas particularly near the old Kilivory grave yard where it was often said to travel through ditches and fields following a road or lane that no longer existed. Locals believed a sighting of the Phantom Coach was a warning of a forthcoming death.
In June 1977, Nicholas Forristal (1888-1979) of the Mill, Graiguenakill, Glenmore related that Nicky Denn and Jamsey Grant “whilst driving cows on a summer evening, both saw the famous phantom coach come thundering down Ballyverneen Lane, across Main Road and cross Pill and marshes and up Carrigcloney Hill.” (Daniel Dowling, Notebook 5, p. 30).
Nicky Forristal went on to state that Nicky Denn died in the Union Hospital in New Ross in 1922/23. Nicky Denn was about 65 years of age when he died. He was born in Mullinahone, Glenmore and his father was Maurice Denn. Nicky Denn worked for about 20 years with Tommy Forristal, of Ballyverneen, Glenmore. The death registry supports that Nicky Forristal had an excellent memory. Nicholas Denn, of Ballyverneen, died on the 7th of March 1923 in the Auxiliary Hospital, New Ross at the age of 65 from pneumonia. It is recorded that he worked as a labourer. Thus Nicky Denn was born around 1858.
In the adjacent parish of Rosbercon, Thomas Victor O’Donovan Power was born in 1860. Power became a well known writer and died a decade after Nicky Denn in 1933. When Danny Dowling was a boy in the 1930’s the old people of Jamestown, Glenmore told Danny that Power would often call to various houses in Jamestown to visit and he sat with the family at their fireside where stories, particularly ghost stories, were shared. For further inspiration Power often prevailed on Jamestown locals, who played instruments, to meet him after dark in the Ballygurrim graveyard or raths. Power would stretch out on the ground and ask his Jamestown companion to play music while he encouraged ghosts or supernatural beings such as pookahs, fairies and banshees, to speak to his imagination.
Power wrote a number of supernatural short stories in serial publications like Ireland’s Own and later Our Boys. Long after his death Power’s short stories were re-printed for new generations of children. Power’s best known character was “Kitty the Hare: The Famous Travelling Woman of Ireland.” According to Stephanie Rains, of Maynooth University, (https://irishmediahistory.com/tag/kitty-the-hare/) Kitty the Hare was introduced in 1914 in Ireland’s Own and later her tales appeared in Our Boys commencing in 1924. Ireland’s Own is still being published today. Our Boys was a publication that was run by the Christian Brothers as an Irish Catholic alternative to the English Boys’ Own publication. The mission of Our Boys in the beginning was to provide acceptable role models for Irish boys to counterbalance the influence of metropolitan and the glamorisation of the British empire. Our Boys “…encapsulate[d] the spirit of pastoral romanticism which permeated the early years of the Free State. This series [Kitty the Hare] went on to become a highlight of the magazine for the next 65 years though Power died in 1929.” (Flanagan, Irish Times, 2014, available at https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/heritage/an-irishman-s-diary-on-our-boys-1.1863585 0.).
Although there is confusion concerning when Power died, T. Victor O’Donovan Power is buried in Shanbogh graveyard and his marker records his death as occurring on the 30th of December 1933. Obituaries for Power appeared in the New Ross Standard on the 5th of January 1934 noting that his father was Michael Power, and the Waterford Standard on the 6th provided the following information:
WELL-KNOWN WRITER’S DEATH. The death has occurred of Mr. T. Victor O’Donovan-Power, of Chilcomb [House], New Ross, the well-known Irish writer and play-wright. For the past 50 years he was a frequent contributor to magazines, periodicals, and the weekly Press, and he was the author of a number of books. Amongst his plays were “The Peril of Shelia” and “The Banshee’s Cry.” His writings portrayed Irish rural life in a delightfully true-to-life manner. Mr. Power was a gifted musician. He had been ill only a short time.
We will never know for certain if the Phantom Coach of Glenmore parish influenced Power, but a ghostly coach featured in a Kitty the Hare story he wrote. RTE as part of its Twenty Minute Tales series featured Kitty the Hare telling the story of the headless Aughaderry coach on Halloween in 1974. It has been digitalised, so turn down the lights and enjoy an old fashion short ghost story without special effects told by Kitty the Hare at https://www.rte.ie/archives/2019/1001/1079397-the-headless-coach-of-aughaderry/
The feature photo above are headstones in the Shanbogh graveyard taken in September 2020.
Web page update–Some headstone inscriptions from Shanbogh graveyard may be found by clicking on the Roots button on the home page.
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh
Mary Malone (c. 1841- ) A Poignant Letter Home to Glenmore in 1877
Last week we featured the letter written by Edmund Hartley ( 1836-1915) published in the New Ross Standard regarding his trip to Ireland in the summer of 1913. Edmund Hartley was accompanied home to Ireland by two priests, his son, Monsgr. James J. Hartley and his nephew, Father James E. Hartley. Monsgr. Hartley was the President of St. Bernard’s Seminary, Rochester, New York. Hoping that Monsgr. Hartley may have had records or photos of the trip we were disappointed to find that St. Bernard’s Seminary closed in the 1980’s. However, when we checked with the Archives of the Diocese of Rochester New York, Sister Connie Derby, Director of the Archives, located and copied a notebook kept by Monsgr. Hartley of the 1913 trip. Also found in the archive was a transcription of a letter written by a cousin of Monsgr. Hartley, Miss Mary Malone. Sister Connie also graciously forwarded good quality photos of Monsgr. and Father Hartley.
It is not known how Mary Malone’s letter came into Monsgr. Hartley’s possession and ultimately ended up in the archive. It is surmised that it was kept, hopefully cherished by her brother who received it in Glenmore in 1877, and when Monsgr. Hartley brought his father home to Glenmore in 1913 he was given the letter written 26 years earlier. The transcription with spelling errors and little punctuation is copied below as it was provided to us by Sister Connie. For such a short letter it is very poignant.
Mary Malone, Fairport, New York, to her brother, Glenmore, Co. Waterford, 24 January 1877
24 January 1877 Fearport January the 24, 1877 My Dear Brother I take the opportunity of writing to you I hope you will forgive me for not writing to you be fore this but I was tost about I left my first place that I was in 2 years and a half I am now living near my aunt I have not but 1 Dolard aweek this winter this is a verry severe winter in america. I got a letter from home about two weeks after I got yours letter they told me it was better for him to go now than any other time but he is a grate loss to my Father and mother it is they feel his loss but they tells me that they are not bad off
[page 2]
That you dont forget them may the Lord spare you your health I do not get to healp them much my wages is so little and I am not cap[a]ble of earning big wages like other girls who can cook and [do] the large washings and fine ironings I cannot do this you know I was not brought [up] to anny such thing I was sent away frum my Mother when young to the farmers to work out in the fields and I never got much in sight about house keeping or to be handy to sew but I don’t have is anny one to blame for that but my Sellf I never tried to lerren I must onely do the best I can now I am verry lonseom and down harted I wish my Sister Margaret was here if ever I can bring here out if times will get better I will try and do my best for her
[page 3]
Dear brother I would wish verry much is you would send me your picture and I will send you mine I never had anny of my pictures taken since I came to america My aunt and cussins are all well and my cussin James Hartley is getting elong splended with his studies he expe[c]ts to be dordained in about 1 year and a half from now. You asked me could I reed your writting I could with out anny troble I hope you will write to me soon again I have no more to say at preasant from your affectionate Sister Mary Malone
Unfortunately the name of Mary Malone’s brother is not revealed in the letter. The only clues are that he lived in Glenmore, she lived in Freeport, New York, she had a sister named Margaret and cousin James Hartley who was to be ordained in 1878. It appears that Mary Malone may have emmigrated about 1875 as she was in her first place for 2 ½ years. Monsgr Hartley was not ordained until 1885, but the fact that the letter ended up in his possession suggests that Mary was related although the closeness of the kinship is not apparent.
Given the fact that Mary makes no reference to a husband or children it is assumed that Mary Malone was her maiden name. The 1880 Federal Census of Rochester, Monroe County, New York reveals that there was a Mary Maloney (sic) living in a boarding house on South St. Paul Street. She was born about 1842 and worked as a servant. It is not known whether Mary Malone remained in New York or returned to Ireland. No further obvious census records were found in New York state. In Monsgr. Hartley’s travel journal one evening while in the Glenmore area the men had “supper” with Mary Malone. It is not known if the 1913 referenced Mary Malone was the same woman that wrote the letter home to Glenmore in 1877.
The Glenmore Parish records reveal that there were a number of Mary Malones born in the early 1840’s from Rochestown to Weatherstown. There is no obvious match of a Malone married to a Hartley or Kennedy (maiden name of Edmund Hartley’s mother). Also, there were much fewer baptismal records for a Margaret Malone. The best fit so far is the Michael Malone family of Weatherstown, Glenmore. Michael Malone and his wife, Catherine née Burke had a daughter Mary who was baptized on the 10th of November 1841. Their daughter Ellen was baptized on the 27th of July 1839 and their daughter Catherine was baptized on the 1st of June 1849. However, no sons were discovered in the parish records for this union.
Perhaps a reader who descends from Mary and/or Margaret Malone can point us in the right direction.
As soon as we can transcribe the travel notebook kept by Monsgr. Hartley we will publish excerpts particularly the notes from their time in Glenmore. Monsgr. Hartley throughout his journal refers to his elderly father affectionately as Pa.
Special thanks to Sister Connie for all her help this week copying and sending on information and photos. The featured image is entitled Irish Immigration from Queenstown (Cobh, Cork) (1874 from the Miram & Ira D. Wallach Collection, Digital Public Library of America
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Ireland is again in lock down due to COVID 19. We shall attempt to provide more posts as we did last lock down. If anyone has a subject or idea, or has an article for our guest author page please contact us at glenmore.history@gmail.com.
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh
Edmund Hartley (1836-1915) Native of Flemingstown, Glenmore: Homecoming 1913
For over 6 decades Danny Dowling corresponded with hundreds of people across the globe who sought information about an ancestor who came from the Glenmore area. One of the queries recorded in Danny’s notebooks is the information he sent to Edmund Hartley Marvin, Sr. concerning his ancestor, Edmund Hartley, of Flemingstown, Glenmore.
Edmund Hartley was baptized on the 12th of April 1836, in Glenmore, he was the son of Edmund Hartley and Mary Hartley née Kennedy of Flemingstown. It is not known what happened to Edmund, Sr. but around 1850 Mary Hartley née Kennedy died and shortly thereafter Edmund and his brothers James (c. 1825-1910); William (1 Jan. 1833 – 7 Aug. 1905); and Philip (c. 1828-7 Dec. 1889) emigrated to the United States. James and William settled in Michigan while Philip and Edmund settled in New York State. According to the 1910 Census, Edmund Hartley married another immigrant Bridget Kelly (1839-1912) in 1858. The couple had eight children and five were living in 1910.
Recently a letter written by Edmund Hartley, regarding his homecoming in 1913 was discovered in the New Ross Standard. Edmund Hartley wrote that he left Ireland in 1852 and returned 61 years later when he spent 5 weeks touring Ireland. It must have been a bittersweet homecoming when he visited Glenmore and only encountered four people who remembered him. This remarkable letter provides an insight into the changes he noted in travel, agriculture and Ireland from his emigration at the end of the famine until his return sixty-one years later. The year following his wife’s death, Edmund Hartley travelled to Europe in 1913 with two priests, his son James J. Hartley and his nephew James E. Hartley.
New Ross Standard—Friday, 14 Nov. 1913–VISIT TO IRELAND.
“During the summer Mr. Edmund Hartley, of Monroe County, New York State, with his son, Very Rev. Dr. Hartley, President of St. Bernard’s College, Rochester, and his nephew, Rev. J. E. Hartley, P.P. Rochester, made a tour to Ireland. Mr. Hartley who is 77 years, and exceedingly brisk and agile for his years, was born in Flemingstown, in the parish of Glenmore. It was his first visit since he left Ireland in 1852. The two priests, who were born in America, enjoyed their stay in the land of their fathers and left full of hope that they would at some time come back again to Erin. Since his return Mr. Hartley has given his experience in the American Press, and his letter is so interesting we reproduce it with pleasure. Mr. Hartley is a near relative of Father Hartley, P.P. Cushinstown, and to all the Hartleys in Glenmore, Co. Kilkenny district.
EDMUND HARTLEY GIVES INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF HIS VISIT.
It was 61 years ago last May since I left Ireland for America. As I was young at the time, I had no notion of going to work, but Intended just to come over for some money; but my relatives got me a job the second day after landing, and I have been pretty busy since, yet I always wanted to pay a visit to the old home, if I got a chance, which happened this summer when my son and nephew were going to Europe. At the time I left Ireland it was the most desolate country in the world, for the famine and fever had carried off a million of the people and another million fled across the ocean from their unhappy land. Of course we took any boat that would carry us: mine was a sailing vessel of eighteen hundred tons that was blown about for fire weeks before we got sight of land, and some days we feared we would be blown to the bottom of the sea. Several died on the voyage and were thrown overboard. We all had to provide our own meals—that is we cooked our own potatoes in a large kettle in the kitchen and ate the bread we brought along with us.
So you can imagine my surprise at the improved conditions of travel when I boarded the steamer Baltic on June 12th. It is over seven hundred feet long, weight about twenty-four thousand tons, and can ride the wares smoothy even a rough sea, and makes nearly four hundred miles a day. The meals are like those served in the finest hotel and each morning there was a newspaper, the ‘Ocean News’ placed near our plate at breakfast, containing several pages of the latest news from all parts of the world. The menu for dinner and the list of steamers that were in communication with our boat that day. One can send a wireless message from any part of the voyage. Several greeted their friends, from mid ocean. When 1,200 miles from shore I sent a message that reached home within five hours the same day. The wireless system is not only a great aid in distress, but also a means of avoiding collision with other boats in a fog. Of course, icebergs have no wireless plant, and the captains now take a southerly route to avoid them. For three days after leaving New York, our boat seemed headed for Spain instead of Great Britain, the captain was so anxious to avoid icebergs.
There was practically no sea sickness on the outward and return trips, and the company did not save anything from passengers missing their meals. Our trip included Ireland, England, northern France and Belgium, all except Ireland, rich and prosperous countries; yes anyone who has visited Ireland will admit that it is one of the most beautiful countries of the world; and we spent five weeks journeying through mountains, valleys, and plains, viewing the ruins of its ancient schools, abbeys, and castles, the famous round towers and Celtic crosses, which it would take too long to describe. It might surprise some to be told that Ireland was once called the land of Saints and Scholars, and her schools in the sixth, seventh and eighth centuries were among the most, celebrated of Europe. Even today she has beautiful churches, well attended by the people and excellent schools and colleges, in spite of all the obstacles placed in the way of religion and education for centuries.
Ireland has few industries except in the province of Ulster and farming is the occupation of the greater part of the people; and the condition of the famers interested me chiefly. So far as I could judge from traveling through twenty of the thirty-two counties of Ireland, the farmers are now in a better condition than ever before. Formerly they had to pay an excessive rent, in some cases greater than the value of the entire crop, and if any improvements were made in land or buildings, the rent would he increased; but now they have to pay only a moderate rent, about one-third of the old rate, and with these moderate payments they can possess the farm as their own, under the conditions of the Land Purchase Acts. Many of the farmers are now free holders and no longer tenants and all the profits of the farm are theirs. The landlords have in many cases consented to sell at least the power parts of their immense estates, yet some are unwilling to sell any part. I saw one estate of fifty square miles and not an acre would the landlord sell. The recent Land Purchase Act has a clause compelling the landlord to sell some portion for the good of the community. The methods of farming have changed altogether in recent years. The potato is no longer the principal crop; for cattle raising and dairying are followed chiefly and only a small part of the farms is under tillage. Considerable oats are raised, but no wheat or barley, though flax is largely cultivated in the northern counties.
The best American implements are used on the larger farms. I attended several fairs and noticed that cattle and farm produce brought higher prices than here in Monroe county. As the Irish soil is rich and the sesame so mild that cattle can graze nearly all through the year the farmer there have an advantage over us, yet I prefer farming near Fairport. Many of the Irish prefer a change of work too, and emigrate to the States or Canada, and the wages in Ireland will hardly coax them back. Yet when Home Rule is granted them next year, there may be greater inducements to keep the young people from emigrating. It is a pity that so many homes have been cleared away to make grazing land, the cattle taking the place of the people.
In my own county of Kilkenny the population had not decreased so much as elsewhere, yet many houses I know have disappeared. The large round stones the strong men used to toss were in the same place near the churchyard where I saw them over 60 years ago; but I met only four person who knew me in boyhood, though several of the younger people proved to be my own relatives. Some were clergyman, others school teachers, or else rich farmers, and although they had become rich they were glad to see me.
I have been asked if I kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland. I climbed up the Blarney Castle, which is nearly five hundred years old, but as part of the floor is fallen away just near the famous stone, I just bent over and struck the stone with my blackthorn stick and kissed it, and if I did not get the full gift of blarney, still I may have enough to last the rest of my life.
I stood on the famous battlefield of Clontarf and the Boyne and near Waterloo, but I think more of having stood at the graves of O’Connell and Parnell in Glasnevin Cemetery and of Gladstone in Westminster Abbey.
The great cathedrals, museums, picture galleries and colleges are the first objects visited by the tourists, and we saw as many as would take day to describe. The most interesting were the cathedrals in Queenstown, Killarney, Thurles, Armagh, Condon, Brussels and Paris, the Tower of London, British Museum and National Gallery, the Louvre in Paris, the Palace of the French King at Versailles and their tombs at St. Denis. We visited the International Exposition at Ghent, the greatest exposition ever held in Europe. All kinds of manufacture were there, but the flying machines interested me most.
The weather was cool all through the trip of nine weeks, and we were surprised to read accounts of the warm weather in the United States. Edmund Hartley”
The Travellers
Edmund Hartley (1836-1915) Native of Flemingstown, Glenmore
Two years after his homecoming Edmund Hartley was tragically killed on his farm in New York State. The Syracuse Herald (New York) of the 14th of April 1915) published an article, “Aged Father of Prelate Killed by R., S.& E. Car,” detailing the tragic demise of Edmund as follows:
Fairport, April 14—Edmund Hartley was struck and instantly killed by a local car on the Rochester, Syracuse and Eastern Trolley road at Hartley’s private crossing a few feet north of Stop 15 shortly before 2 o’clock yesterday afternoon. The car was the local one here at 1:50 p.m. and was in charge of Motorman Frank Emmes of Syracuse. Mr. Hartley, who is 79 years old leaves three sons, the Rev. Monsignor J.J. Hartley, head of St. Bernard’s seminary; William who lives on the farm just south of Fairport, and Philip of this village; two daughters, Mrs. M Marvin of Adrian, Michigan and Margaret, who lives on the farm. To view Edmund’s grave marker see, https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/103632748/edmund-hartley .
Rev. Monsignor James J. Hartley (1860-1943)
James J. Hartley was ordained in 1885 by Bishop Bernard J. McQuaid the first Bishop of Rochester, New York. Bishop McQuaid sent the young priest to Europe, instructing him to visit the great university, reap the benefits of travel and increase his knowledge of the subjects he would teach. Much of his time abroad was spent in Louvain and Rome. In 1894, McQuaid founded St. Bernard’s Seminary and James J. Hartley was appointed Proctor. In 1907, Pope Pius X conferred a degree of Doctor of Divinity on James J. Hartley. (Democrat and Chronicle of Rochester, New York, Sunday, 24 March 1907)
Although his father in his 1913 letter did not provide the name of the relative that found him a job within days of his arrival in the US, the Democrat & Chronicle 1907 article states that “Dr. Hartley is a cousin of Bishop James J. Hartley” (1858-1944) of Columbus, Ohio who was bishop of Columbus from 1904-1944.
The Right Reverend Monsignor James J. Hartley, D.D. prothonotary apostolic and rector-emeritus of St. Bernard’s Seminary died on 11 December 1943 at the age of 83. (The Ithaca Journal (New York) 13 Dec. 1943).
Rev. James E. Hartley (1852-1920)
James E. Hartley was born the 14th of October 1852 in Fairport, Monroe County, New York the son of Philip Hartley (c. 1828-1889) a native of Flemingstown, Glenmore. James E. Hartley was ordained a priest the 21st of December 1878. After ordination he severed as an administrator of St. Mary’s of Ithaca and Our Lady of Victory, Rochester. He was appointed rector of the parish of Palmyra in August 1893 where he remained until he suffered a stroke on the 18th of March 1920 and died in the rectory of St. Anne’s on the 29th. He was survived by two sisters: Mrs. Hanna Curran and Mrs. Mary A. Coffey.
The Cousin—Bishop James J. Hartley (1858-1944)
Bishop James J. Hartley of Columbus, Ohio (June 26, 1858 – January 12, 1944) fourth bishop of Columbus served from his consecration in 1904 until his death in 1944. According to the Diocese of Columbus website Bishop Hartley was born at Davenport, Iowa the eldest child of Edward Hartley and Catherine McManus. His parents were married at St. Patrick’s in Columbus, Ohio in 1858, moved to Davenport and returned to Columbus. After his return to Columbus, Ohio, Edward Hartley (1828-1910) kept a saloon on West Maple St. and the family lived upstairs. He was also a Columbus policeman for several years. See, http://www.colsdioc.org/AboutUs/TheBishopsofColumbus/tabid/276/Default.aspx .
Bishop Hartley’s father, Edward (1828-1910), according to the 1900 census came to the US in 1838. It is believed that Edward Hartley was a native of Weatherstown, Glenmore. It was reported in the 1900 census that he was born in Ireland in March 1828. Because of his son’s position in the church, Edward’s death in Columbus, Franklin County, Ohio was widely reported in newspapers in November 1910.
Special thanks to Jane Marvin Dempsey for graciously allowing us to use her photo of her great-grandfather Edmund Hartley (1836-1915) which is the featured photo above.
Dr. Kathleen Moore Walsh