We have just arrived in Banbury, where we will be saying farewell to my other second cousin Ray, his wife Trish and daughter Tracey with a night out at the pub. John has disappeared down to the village, since although he was here for nine days, he didn't so much as see the caravan park, let alone the village of Great Bourton - a lovely place - because he was so ill. He did see the inside of the local hospital for two days.
We spent yesterday with my newfound second cousin Linda (nee Tucker) and her family - the whole 10 of them, including her son and family who flew in from Qatar on Friday. Again, as it was in early May, we had a most enjoyable day. It was really sad to say goodbye to Linda, although she and her husband Peter are planning a trip to Australia in 2010. Peter is kindly driving up to Hammersmith with two of our bags on Thursday, so we don't have to lug them on the train from Derby to St Pancras. A real blessing.
Prior to arriving in Horsham on Saturday, we spent Friday evening at Ange and Paul's place in Totton, a suburb of Southampton, because their respective mothers wanted to meet us. What a laugh we all had. The two mothers have wicked senses of humour.
Did I tell you about Paul and Ange's car? Paul has an even higher level of spinal cord injury than John, and Ange was finding it very difficult to lift Paul (who is about a foot taller than John) in and out of her station waggon. So they decided to seek a vehicle through Motability, an organisation that provides (for a cost) vehicles for people with a physical disability. The deal is - you put up a deposit of 6000 pounds, and forfeit your 100 pounds a fortnight mobility allowance (which Paul is eligible for through Social Security) for five years. For that, they lease you a vehicle for the five years and pay all maintenance costs and road taxes. It's a great way to be independent, although of course it is often difficult finding the deposit of 6000 pounds. Paul and Ange took delivery three weeks ago of a Peugot, and find it marvellous. So easy for Ange to get Paul in and out. Did I tell you she provided a taxi service for John to go into Southampton and to their house and back for the evening. Much easier than trying to park this big motor.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Back to Southampton and the New Forest
We are spending four nights at Ower, a district just off the M27 (and don't we know it, with the traffic noise!). The site is well located for our purposes though - just 5-10 minutes from Totten where Ange and Paul live, and on the edge of the New Forest and seven miles from Fordingbridge.
After gathering our energy, Ange came round to the campsite on Wednesday, bringing her new Motorbility Peugeot (more about that later) and drove us both to the Old Cemetery at Southampton Common. This is where many of my ancestors are buried, including three generations of Tuckers. I found my grandfather Sydney George Tucker's grave (1919, aged 36) and the pot of chrysanthums, sadly full of weeds now that my cousin Linda had placed on the grave in February last year.
It was a bit tricky finding the graves, since being summer, there were many blackberries and other weeds to fight our way through. We couldn't find the other two graves, those of my great grandfather and great great grandfather, although Linda did last year, and sent us photos.
It was serendipitous though, because after we'd given up looking for the graves, Ange suddenly saw a grave of George Henry Rose, and said - isn't he one of yours? Indeed he was - another great great grandfather. I might have mentioned once that Ange is my 4th cousin, and his wife Hannah, also inscribed was her gggreat aunt! So how about that. Of course we had to get a photo of the two of us, and here it is.
That evening, we met up with yet another John Moxon, of Southampton - no relation that we can figure out - but he belongs to the Moxon Society and his passion - like John's - is VWs, so John had already contacted him a couple of years ago intrigued by the co-incidence of names. He and his wife Jacqui were great company. The two John Moxons posed in front of the other John's Karmen Ghia. Our John can only wish!
Yesterday (Thursday), Ange and her husband Paul arrived mid morning and we set off in convoy across the New Forest (avoiding the cows, calves, ponies and foals on the road) to Fordingbridge, where yet another of my great great grandmothers, Sophia Jefferis was born in 1836. Her mother's surname was Tiller, and some of them still live around there. We had lunch in a pub, after checking out the old church and taking lots of photos of the village, then visited a museum, entirely run by volunteers (aren't they all!).
I then wanted to visit Rockbourne, where a ggg grandmother - Hannah Isacc - was born. The lanes were very narrow between Fordingbridge and Rockbourne, and we held our breath in case a bus came, but none did.
Rockbourne is home to a Roman Villa, so we visited that and it was most interesting. Many of the mosaic floors can still be seen. It was discovered in 1942 when a farmer ploughed up a large shell which couldn't possibly come from there, and referred his find to a local real estate agent and antiquarian who of course purchased the land, which any good real estate agent would do!
So a long but happy day. Ange and Paul are great company. We will put some photos on the blog of course.
Later today we are going to Ange and Paul's for tea and meeting both their mothers. One is my dad's third cousin. (Don't you just love these relationships?) You need a genealogy software program to work them out.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
National Trust treasures
For the past three days, we have been to three National Trust properties, where being a "carer" has been useful, for reduced fees. In fact John got in free at Bath as well as me.
We told you about going to Lacock Abbey on Sunday. On Monday (yesterday) we caught the train from Chippenham to Bath and return (again, no dramas), and spent a few hours walking around this small city and viewing the Roman Baths and having a leisurely lunch in the park. John preferred York as a city - he found Bath just too touristy (and of course we added to it). I didn't mind because I was really, really impressed with the Roman Baths. We couldn't go to much of it, which was why we both got in for free. However, we could look down on the baths and it really is amazing to think that Jane Austen saw the same view. I would have liked to have followed Jane's footsteps around Bath, but we didn't have the time. It's the sort of place you can spend a week of course.
After filling up with groceries at Melksham, we drove to Trowbridge, where we had arranged to meet John's VERY distant cousin Ed Moxon (I think they share an ancestor in 1717). Ed is the project manager (voluntary) for the DNA project of the Moxon Society. After John had his DNA tested (on 43 markers on the Y chromosome, so only male Moxons can be tested), Ed found that John's DNA matched that of others (including himself) who were decended from John Moxon/Moakson born 1717 in Silkstone, Yorkshire.
Ed is a Lieutenant Colonel (at 45) in the British Army, posted to Salisbury and has some interesting observations about Iraq, to which we wouldn't disagree.
So last night, having enjoyed yet another delightful Indian meal, we drove home in the dark for the very first time. That is hard to do at the moment, because it doesn't get dark until nearly 10 pm. It's great.
The Wiltshire Family History Centre (Records Office) opens Tuesday-Saturday only, and is based in Chippenham, north of our campsite. So we spent the morning there, looking for our Tucker ancestors' wills. I was really pleased to find two wills and an application for guardianship for my direct ancestors who had been left parentless before the age of 21.
The building is new - purpose built - so it is very efficiently laid out and of course fully wheelchair acessible. We were most impressed.
We ate our lunch in the van in the carpark and then travelled south to a campsite at Ower, just north of Southampton, where I want to see my dear friend and distant cousin Ange again.
But on the way, we stopped at Stonehenge, which I'd never managed to visit on my previous three trips. It was well worth the visit. Like the Roman Baths, the National Trust gives headphones so we could listen to a full description. For once, we heard a number of Australian accents. Including a family from Blacktown. Mostly, our trip has been to places that are not the must sees for Australians in a hurry.
John reckons that the mystical powers of Stonehenge don't work - he still can't walk!
We told you about going to Lacock Abbey on Sunday. On Monday (yesterday) we caught the train from Chippenham to Bath and return (again, no dramas), and spent a few hours walking around this small city and viewing the Roman Baths and having a leisurely lunch in the park. John preferred York as a city - he found Bath just too touristy (and of course we added to it). I didn't mind because I was really, really impressed with the Roman Baths. We couldn't go to much of it, which was why we both got in for free. However, we could look down on the baths and it really is amazing to think that Jane Austen saw the same view. I would have liked to have followed Jane's footsteps around Bath, but we didn't have the time. It's the sort of place you can spend a week of course.
After filling up with groceries at Melksham, we drove to Trowbridge, where we had arranged to meet John's VERY distant cousin Ed Moxon (I think they share an ancestor in 1717). Ed is the project manager (voluntary) for the DNA project of the Moxon Society. After John had his DNA tested (on 43 markers on the Y chromosome, so only male Moxons can be tested), Ed found that John's DNA matched that of others (including himself) who were decended from John Moxon/Moakson born 1717 in Silkstone, Yorkshire.
Ed is a Lieutenant Colonel (at 45) in the British Army, posted to Salisbury and has some interesting observations about Iraq, to which we wouldn't disagree.
So last night, having enjoyed yet another delightful Indian meal, we drove home in the dark for the very first time. That is hard to do at the moment, because it doesn't get dark until nearly 10 pm. It's great.
The Wiltshire Family History Centre (Records Office) opens Tuesday-Saturday only, and is based in Chippenham, north of our campsite. So we spent the morning there, looking for our Tucker ancestors' wills. I was really pleased to find two wills and an application for guardianship for my direct ancestors who had been left parentless before the age of 21.
The building is new - purpose built - so it is very efficiently laid out and of course fully wheelchair acessible. We were most impressed.
We ate our lunch in the van in the carpark and then travelled south to a campsite at Ower, just north of Southampton, where I want to see my dear friend and distant cousin Ange again.
But on the way, we stopped at Stonehenge, which I'd never managed to visit on my previous three trips. It was well worth the visit. Like the Roman Baths, the National Trust gives headphones so we could listen to a full description. For once, we heard a number of Australian accents. Including a family from Blacktown. Mostly, our trip has been to places that are not the must sees for Australians in a hurry.
John reckons that the mystical powers of Stonehenge don't work - he still can't walk!
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Photo requests from our readers!
John Lee and Julie & Ian asked to see photos of inside the motor home, and Hazel and Peter both asked for some photos of pubs, so we have put together two albums on both those topics. You can check them out by clicking the link to our photo gallery in the links section above this blog.
We didn't get to Bath today - maybe tomorrow. However, we walked down to the village of Lacock. What a gem. It is the setting for many films - including the Mayor of Casterbridge, Emma, Pride and Prejudice and yes, even the first two Harry Potter movies.
The Harry Potter movies were partly filmed in the cloisters of the Lacock Abbey, and that kept all the kids happy whilst touring this National Trust site. It was most interesting, and in the early 1800s was the ancestral home of William Henry Fox Talbot, the father of photography. What an interesting and bright lad he was. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society at the ripe old age of 33, a member of Parliament, a founder of the Royal Horticultural Society and an inventor to boot. Some people are definitely at the head of the queue when God handed out talent and silver spoons.
We didn't get to Bath today - maybe tomorrow. However, we walked down to the village of Lacock. What a gem. It is the setting for many films - including the Mayor of Casterbridge, Emma, Pride and Prejudice and yes, even the first two Harry Potter movies.
The Harry Potter movies were partly filmed in the cloisters of the Lacock Abbey, and that kept all the kids happy whilst touring this National Trust site. It was most interesting, and in the early 1800s was the ancestral home of William Henry Fox Talbot, the father of photography. What an interesting and bright lad he was. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society at the ripe old age of 33, a member of Parliament, a founder of the Royal Horticultural Society and an inventor to boot. Some people are definitely at the head of the queue when God handed out talent and silver spoons.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Cardiff - a surprising city
We've just spent three VERY pleasant days in Cardiff, visiting a good friend John Hyde, who lives in Sydney but has been working for the Welsh Assembly Government (WAG) for 12 months, writing a housing strategy. It was great to catch up with him.
And somehow, not even knowing where in Cardiff he lived, the caravan park we chose was just two blocks from his home! So he was able to visit as soon as we arrived and was a great host. We went to his local pub for tea on Wednesday evening. The drinks cost more than the dinner!
I'd never thought of Cardiff as a tourist must, but I've changed my mind completely. It's a lovely city. We were able to walk through a vast 300 acre park which had belonged to the Bute family, which made its fortune from coal. (I can't help thinking though of all those eight year olds down the pits in those days). The Bute family had bought Cardiff Castle and later generations gave the property to the people of Cardiff. We had a most pleasurable lunch in the castle grounds, on a very pleasant sunny day.
After lunch I went off shopping and to the hairdressers whilst the lads went sightseeing down to the Cardiff Bay. They toured the new Millenium Centre, which is Cardiff's version of the Sydney Opera House. They had two guides who were intrigued to hear about the problems with acoustics and access at our opera house.
Afterwards, I caught a train to the Bay and we went to a wonderful Indian restaurant. The food lived up to its reputation. We were careful to not order too much, but we still couldn't eat it all.
The long day's journey from Ireland on the Wednesday had taken its toll on John (and on me too) so John had a day in bed to rest his legs which keep swelling up. My bones were aching from lots of driving and walking so I did no more than walk into town to check out accomodation on the internet at the library. An hour's browsing was free. Some places charge, but not Cardiff. Fortunately I now have broadband back again on the laptop, having paid another month's subscription.
For those interested, a "3" modem cost us 69 pounds, and on top of that we paid ten pound a month, which for us heavy users wasn't quite enough, and I kept having problems. I have now upgraded to a 15 pound plan (for a month). It is good for travellers. You just stick the modem into the USB drive, having made sure you put the chip in correctly! That was also a problem at one stage. Vouchers for the modem (or internet phone) can be purchased just about anywhere, such as TESCO supermarkets.
This morning, John Hyde came around to wave us goodbye, and we set off for Trowbridge in Wiltshire. Another genealogy enthusiast from Hampshire had informed me about an open day being held by the Wiltshire Family History Society at the civic hall. The drive across was an easy one, straight down the motor way, and we arrived in time to meet my internet contact, Rodney and to spend three hours browsing and researching. I am now a proud member of the Wiltshire Family History Society and the Hampshire Genealogical Society. It was a great opportunity to gain advice and to look at microfiche of village baptisms and burials for areas of interest.
We also booked into a caravan park in Lacock, a village between Chippenham (where the Wiltshire Record Office is located) and Trowbridge. The village - which we haven't seen as yet - is the backdrop for many a movie including the Jane Austen films. So that is a must. We are also only 14 miles from Bath, so our plan tomorrow is to catch a train from Chippenham to Bath. We'll see if it can be done!
Till then. Only 14 more days and we'll be on the plane home. We'll have a new neighbour by then. Carmel and Ray at number 30 are expecting a second bubba this week, so we are sending them special thoughts this week.
And somehow, not even knowing where in Cardiff he lived, the caravan park we chose was just two blocks from his home! So he was able to visit as soon as we arrived and was a great host. We went to his local pub for tea on Wednesday evening. The drinks cost more than the dinner!
I'd never thought of Cardiff as a tourist must, but I've changed my mind completely. It's a lovely city. We were able to walk through a vast 300 acre park which had belonged to the Bute family, which made its fortune from coal. (I can't help thinking though of all those eight year olds down the pits in those days). The Bute family had bought Cardiff Castle and later generations gave the property to the people of Cardiff. We had a most pleasurable lunch in the castle grounds, on a very pleasant sunny day.
After lunch I went off shopping and to the hairdressers whilst the lads went sightseeing down to the Cardiff Bay. They toured the new Millenium Centre, which is Cardiff's version of the Sydney Opera House. They had two guides who were intrigued to hear about the problems with acoustics and access at our opera house.
Afterwards, I caught a train to the Bay and we went to a wonderful Indian restaurant. The food lived up to its reputation. We were careful to not order too much, but we still couldn't eat it all.
The long day's journey from Ireland on the Wednesday had taken its toll on John (and on me too) so John had a day in bed to rest his legs which keep swelling up. My bones were aching from lots of driving and walking so I did no more than walk into town to check out accomodation on the internet at the library. An hour's browsing was free. Some places charge, but not Cardiff. Fortunately I now have broadband back again on the laptop, having paid another month's subscription.
For those interested, a "3" modem cost us 69 pounds, and on top of that we paid ten pound a month, which for us heavy users wasn't quite enough, and I kept having problems. I have now upgraded to a 15 pound plan (for a month). It is good for travellers. You just stick the modem into the USB drive, having made sure you put the chip in correctly! That was also a problem at one stage. Vouchers for the modem (or internet phone) can be purchased just about anywhere, such as TESCO supermarkets.
This morning, John Hyde came around to wave us goodbye, and we set off for Trowbridge in Wiltshire. Another genealogy enthusiast from Hampshire had informed me about an open day being held by the Wiltshire Family History Society at the civic hall. The drive across was an easy one, straight down the motor way, and we arrived in time to meet my internet contact, Rodney and to spend three hours browsing and researching. I am now a proud member of the Wiltshire Family History Society and the Hampshire Genealogical Society. It was a great opportunity to gain advice and to look at microfiche of village baptisms and burials for areas of interest.
We also booked into a caravan park in Lacock, a village between Chippenham (where the Wiltshire Record Office is located) and Trowbridge. The village - which we haven't seen as yet - is the backdrop for many a movie including the Jane Austen films. So that is a must. We are also only 14 miles from Bath, so our plan tomorrow is to catch a train from Chippenham to Bath. We'll see if it can be done!
Till then. Only 14 more days and we'll be on the plane home. We'll have a new neighbour by then. Carmel and Ray at number 30 are expecting a second bubba this week, so we are sending them special thoughts this week.
Friday, June 20, 2008
More about Ireland
Our last blog mentioned our dash to Cork to obtain more gas, and so far it hasn't run out again and we are back in the UK where the gas fittings aren't a problem and we can simply exchange bottles. So be warned if you ever take a caravan or camper to Ireland!
After a night in Cork, we decided to go back north to Corrofin, because we simply hadn't finished exploring and photographing it. They were surprised to see us back. But we are glad we did, because after chatting to a couple of locals, we wrote two letters to members of the Fitzpatrick family to whom we think John is related.
The next day was long and tiring driving. We decided to go to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast. The scenery is quite varied between Corrofin and the west coast. Our photos can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/CliffsOfMoher
Whilst we were looking at a dolmen - an ancient burial site which looks like a smaller stonehenge - we saw a paraplegic dog using a doggy version of a wheelchair. It was so funny. The dog was enjoying itself. There is a photo on the link above.
After that, we travelled to Killaloe, a lovely lakeside town in East Clare and spent Sunday wandering around. We found the street where our George Fitzpatrick owned a house in 1855, and imagined him as a police officer in town. He would not have been popular. It was just after the potato famines and the constabulary were seen as the puppets of the English landlords.
On Sunday afternoon we headed for Limerick where we wanted to visit Galbally, set in a beautiful valley just below Tipperary. We found an old farm where we think John's great grandfather was born. It was totally derelict, and very sad to see. There are still some people with the same name in the village, but two were in a nursing home in a bigger town and the old lady was very suspicious of strangers and even people she'd known for many years, so we didn't want to worry her. I think she was in her nineties. They are the last of the Quaine family so we were told.
And then south though Waterford to the coast, and finally to the ferry on Wednesday morning. We didn't visit the Waterford Crystal Works unfortunately. Just couldn't fit everything in.
We were sorry to leave Ireland. We just loved it. The people were so friendly, the country was astonishly beautiful, the accents were beautiful to listen too and the pace was laid back. But funnily enough it appears to be a much more prosperous country overall than England. I'd been to Ireland for a few days in the early 70s and at that stage it was far from prosperous.
The ferry trip to Pembroke from Rosslare was somewhat more rough, since the weather had turned windy. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the ferry but arrived in plenty of time, only to find they'd waved us nearly onto the wrong ferry! But all was well.
And so to Cardiff. Next post. We are here for three nights.
After a night in Cork, we decided to go back north to Corrofin, because we simply hadn't finished exploring and photographing it. They were surprised to see us back. But we are glad we did, because after chatting to a couple of locals, we wrote two letters to members of the Fitzpatrick family to whom we think John is related.
The next day was long and tiring driving. We decided to go to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast. The scenery is quite varied between Corrofin and the west coast. Our photos can be viewed at http://picasaweb.google.com.au/JohnMoxon1/CliffsOfMoher
Whilst we were looking at a dolmen - an ancient burial site which looks like a smaller stonehenge - we saw a paraplegic dog using a doggy version of a wheelchair. It was so funny. The dog was enjoying itself. There is a photo on the link above.
After that, we travelled to Killaloe, a lovely lakeside town in East Clare and spent Sunday wandering around. We found the street where our George Fitzpatrick owned a house in 1855, and imagined him as a police officer in town. He would not have been popular. It was just after the potato famines and the constabulary were seen as the puppets of the English landlords.
On Sunday afternoon we headed for Limerick where we wanted to visit Galbally, set in a beautiful valley just below Tipperary. We found an old farm where we think John's great grandfather was born. It was totally derelict, and very sad to see. There are still some people with the same name in the village, but two were in a nursing home in a bigger town and the old lady was very suspicious of strangers and even people she'd known for many years, so we didn't want to worry her. I think she was in her nineties. They are the last of the Quaine family so we were told.
And then south though Waterford to the coast, and finally to the ferry on Wednesday morning. We didn't visit the Waterford Crystal Works unfortunately. Just couldn't fit everything in.
We were sorry to leave Ireland. We just loved it. The people were so friendly, the country was astonishly beautiful, the accents were beautiful to listen too and the pace was laid back. But funnily enough it appears to be a much more prosperous country overall than England. I'd been to Ireland for a few days in the early 70s and at that stage it was far from prosperous.
The ferry trip to Pembroke from Rosslare was somewhat more rough, since the weather had turned windy. We had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch the ferry but arrived in plenty of time, only to find they'd waved us nearly onto the wrong ferry! But all was well.
And so to Cardiff. Next post. We are here for three nights.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Finding John's great great grandfather George Fitzpatrick
Well, it's been another one of those weeks. Worn out (me with driving and leap-frogging the wheelchair and John with bouncing up and down over all the bumps with poor suspension and predicting my every move), and yet lots of pleasurable moments as well. The scenery is magnificent. Reminds me of the south coast of NSW, but with lots of ruins thrown in.
After leaving Dublin on Saturday, we drove to Hodson Bay near Athlone (a lakeside town) in the very middle of the island. We stayed two nights simply because we were so tired. The caravan park was run by a very old man with severe scoleosis and parkinson's disease and his wife who seemed to be in the first stages of short term memory loss. Like other farmers they turned part of their acreage into a caravan park, and seem to be doing very well. Lots of turnover of vans. But it was very hard for the old man to get around, even though he insisted on showing us everything.
I couldn't help wondering what life on a dairy farm was like 40-50 years ago when he probably started. It was probably tough. Ireland is now very prosperous, and appears much more so that England, where the prosperity is blatant at one end, but people are really struggling at the other end of the scale.
The roads are better than in England as well. Lots of double lane roads, and even the minor roads are better, although still very narrow compared to Australia. But today (Thursday) we've been plagued with tractors ahead of us. Like flies...
John found a large eucalyptus tree growing on the side of the road when he decided to wheel half a mile ahead of me at Hodson Bay. Most surprised. Maybe people slipped a seedling in their pocket when they returned. I just read that a trial conducted in Ireland 30 years ago suggested that 37 species out of 102 eucalypts would be suitable for growing in Ireland. So how about that!
And then to Corrofin where we thought that John's Fitzpatrick side came from. Corrofin is a very small place of the main routes but has a good range of services and a nice caravan park in the centre of the village. We discovered that St Katherine's church (Church of Ireland) is now a Museum and we couldn't get into it because of steps. We found some Fitzpatrick gravestones, and we think they are related but can't be sure. All circumstantial at this stage, with similar family names. Only about 5% of the population was Church of Ireland and many other Fitzpatricks in other places were Catholic of course.
We went to the Corrifin Genealogical Society which is well know, but were extremely disappointed with their services. It would be hard to find a more aggressive woman, who launched straight in to an inquisition without so much as a hello and how are you. Very different from our experience at home with the Heritage Centre and the Mormon's Family History Centre. She was simply hoping to sell us a full research service, and there was no opportunity to do any of our own research there. No computers, no public microfiche - nothing. Just lots of jealously guarded records and paid researchers. She did say however, that the records were available elsewhere.
So the next day we went into Ennis, the County town just 13 kilometres away and our experiences there over two days could not have been more different. The library staff were very pleasant and helpful, and the local history librarian, who occupies an old Manse next door was extremely helpful and full of initiative. He then sent us to the Births, Deaths and Marriages and again, we found an extremely helpful public servant.
We found more Fitzpatrick grave records (but not our George), and then miracle of miracles, we found three death certificates. One was for the William we found in grave yard (we THINK he could have been George's oldest son), one for George himself in 1902 and one for his wife (Ho)Norah Fitzpatrick (1884).
The latter two were most enlightening. George had been a policeman (and we have yet to establish his service record) but it appears he was the Church of Ireland sexton in Corrofin. We knew that he was living aged 87 as a retired widower in the village itself in 1901 (census), but the sad thing is that he died in the workhouse. And that is why we couldn't find him buried in the churchyard where he worked for so many of his later years. Because workhouse residents were buried in the graveyard of the workhouse. That is so sad.
We can imagine - an 87 year old widower living alone - no relatives in the village (the other Fitzpatricks were farmers) - and getting too old to look after himself in his last year of life. No such thing as community services. The only services available were at the workhouse. And in the workhouse, there was no dignity.
Ennis, the County town was a most impressive town. We loved it. Friendly people, a nice pub for lunch, nice old ruins. And one day with great weather, which helps too.
And then to this morning. John said: "I think we have a problem". And sure enough, we were out of gas. We don't think it was filled properly the other day, because it was a different company's gas, and they did say they had trouble.
Apart from Dublin, the only other place to get a refill of Calor gas was in Cork, three hours south. And we had a deadline to get there. Fortunately we rang ahead and found out closing times and exactly where they were. Now filled up, but what a stressful day. We were both so tired.
But after a good three hours sleep, I turned on the computer, and low and behold, we have wireless broadband connection! Hence this blog.
We only have six more nights in Ireland and we're running out of time. We've missed the west coast - we had wanted to go to Dingle Peninsular.
And in spite of Peter's urging, we won't be having a Murphy's or a Guinness. John doesn't drink and I can't stand beer or stout! We've passed plenty of their trucks and pubs though. The only time we go to a pub is for lunch or the occasional tea. They do good lunches.
Till next time. Thanks for the comments on the last blog. There were six!
After leaving Dublin on Saturday, we drove to Hodson Bay near Athlone (a lakeside town) in the very middle of the island. We stayed two nights simply because we were so tired. The caravan park was run by a very old man with severe scoleosis and parkinson's disease and his wife who seemed to be in the first stages of short term memory loss. Like other farmers they turned part of their acreage into a caravan park, and seem to be doing very well. Lots of turnover of vans. But it was very hard for the old man to get around, even though he insisted on showing us everything.
I couldn't help wondering what life on a dairy farm was like 40-50 years ago when he probably started. It was probably tough. Ireland is now very prosperous, and appears much more so that England, where the prosperity is blatant at one end, but people are really struggling at the other end of the scale.
The roads are better than in England as well. Lots of double lane roads, and even the minor roads are better, although still very narrow compared to Australia. But today (Thursday) we've been plagued with tractors ahead of us. Like flies...
John found a large eucalyptus tree growing on the side of the road when he decided to wheel half a mile ahead of me at Hodson Bay. Most surprised. Maybe people slipped a seedling in their pocket when they returned. I just read that a trial conducted in Ireland 30 years ago suggested that 37 species out of 102 eucalypts would be suitable for growing in Ireland. So how about that!
And then to Corrofin where we thought that John's Fitzpatrick side came from. Corrofin is a very small place of the main routes but has a good range of services and a nice caravan park in the centre of the village. We discovered that St Katherine's church (Church of Ireland) is now a Museum and we couldn't get into it because of steps. We found some Fitzpatrick gravestones, and we think they are related but can't be sure. All circumstantial at this stage, with similar family names. Only about 5% of the population was Church of Ireland and many other Fitzpatricks in other places were Catholic of course.
We went to the Corrifin Genealogical Society which is well know, but were extremely disappointed with their services. It would be hard to find a more aggressive woman, who launched straight in to an inquisition without so much as a hello and how are you. Very different from our experience at home with the Heritage Centre and the Mormon's Family History Centre. She was simply hoping to sell us a full research service, and there was no opportunity to do any of our own research there. No computers, no public microfiche - nothing. Just lots of jealously guarded records and paid researchers. She did say however, that the records were available elsewhere.
So the next day we went into Ennis, the County town just 13 kilometres away and our experiences there over two days could not have been more different. The library staff were very pleasant and helpful, and the local history librarian, who occupies an old Manse next door was extremely helpful and full of initiative. He then sent us to the Births, Deaths and Marriages and again, we found an extremely helpful public servant.
We found more Fitzpatrick grave records (but not our George), and then miracle of miracles, we found three death certificates. One was for the William we found in grave yard (we THINK he could have been George's oldest son), one for George himself in 1902 and one for his wife (Ho)Norah Fitzpatrick (1884).
The latter two were most enlightening. George had been a policeman (and we have yet to establish his service record) but it appears he was the Church of Ireland sexton in Corrofin. We knew that he was living aged 87 as a retired widower in the village itself in 1901 (census), but the sad thing is that he died in the workhouse. And that is why we couldn't find him buried in the churchyard where he worked for so many of his later years. Because workhouse residents were buried in the graveyard of the workhouse. That is so sad.
We can imagine - an 87 year old widower living alone - no relatives in the village (the other Fitzpatricks were farmers) - and getting too old to look after himself in his last year of life. No such thing as community services. The only services available were at the workhouse. And in the workhouse, there was no dignity.
Ennis, the County town was a most impressive town. We loved it. Friendly people, a nice pub for lunch, nice old ruins. And one day with great weather, which helps too.
And then to this morning. John said: "I think we have a problem". And sure enough, we were out of gas. We don't think it was filled properly the other day, because it was a different company's gas, and they did say they had trouble.
Apart from Dublin, the only other place to get a refill of Calor gas was in Cork, three hours south. And we had a deadline to get there. Fortunately we rang ahead and found out closing times and exactly where they were. Now filled up, but what a stressful day. We were both so tired.
But after a good three hours sleep, I turned on the computer, and low and behold, we have wireless broadband connection! Hence this blog.
We only have six more nights in Ireland and we're running out of time. We've missed the west coast - we had wanted to go to Dingle Peninsular.
And in spite of Peter's urging, we won't be having a Murphy's or a Guinness. John doesn't drink and I can't stand beer or stout! We've passed plenty of their trucks and pubs though. The only time we go to a pub is for lunch or the occasional tea. They do good lunches.
Till next time. Thanks for the comments on the last blog. There were six!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Rush, near Dublin
Hello friends.
You might have noticed that we've now put a link to our photos above these blogs to make it easier for you to check out our latest photos.
I'm writing this with the beach at our front door (the driver's seat) at a little town just over an hour's bus journey to Dublin. We spent the day there yesterday, and saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College, and the Long Room, the magnificent old library with many many 14th-15th century manuscripts.
We had lunch at a pub in O'Connell Street (their George Street) and wandered around the old town. Dublin now has a huge spire, 3 metres in diameter at the bottom, and almost needle sharp at the top. It is 120 metres high. It replaces the Nelson Column which was blown up in 1966. Wonder why?
Funny thing, we were told yesterday that the Irish don't go to Spain for the sun, because that's where the English go. Some Scots chuckled when I repeated that yesterday. The Irish prefer Greece apparently.
We'd been told that all the buses in Dublin were wheelchair accessible. But guess what? That's right - the bus we aimed to catch wasn't. So we waited another hour for a bus, and luckily both it and the return bus were OK. John got his hair cut in the meantime. What a shock. He got a number 2 (I generally give him a number 3) and if you'd seen him before, after 8 weeks without a cut, most of you wouldn't have recognised him.
Since our arrival on Tuesday, by Irish Ferries, the weather hasn't been kind to us, although brighter yesterday, and good this morning (Saturday). Hope it stays that way.
We are camped next to some very friendly Aussies from Woodford - our first Aussies. There are many Dutch, Germans, a smattering of English here. In England it was many more English at the caravan parks - most of whom had close relatives in Australia.
The Irish accent is gorgeous. There are many young women with dark brown (almost black) hair with pale complexions and blue eyes. A very nice combination of features. Not as many red heads as I expected.
We've had trouble obtaining gas. The fittings in Ireland are different (no one warned us) and we spent all day Wednesday looking for gas. There are only two places in Ireland which refill it now. One in Dublin, the other in Cork! And the one in Dublin is only open for 2.5 hours in the morning! We ended up getting some 60 kms north, strictly not allowed! But they felt sorry for us.
We are off to Athlone in the middle of the country now. Just an overnight stop on our way to Corrofin in County Clare where we think John's Fitzpatrick gg grandfather is buried.
You might have noticed that we've now put a link to our photos above these blogs to make it easier for you to check out our latest photos.
I'm writing this with the beach at our front door (the driver's seat) at a little town just over an hour's bus journey to Dublin. We spent the day there yesterday, and saw the Book of Kells at Trinity College, and the Long Room, the magnificent old library with many many 14th-15th century manuscripts.
We had lunch at a pub in O'Connell Street (their George Street) and wandered around the old town. Dublin now has a huge spire, 3 metres in diameter at the bottom, and almost needle sharp at the top. It is 120 metres high. It replaces the Nelson Column which was blown up in 1966. Wonder why?
Funny thing, we were told yesterday that the Irish don't go to Spain for the sun, because that's where the English go. Some Scots chuckled when I repeated that yesterday. The Irish prefer Greece apparently.
We'd been told that all the buses in Dublin were wheelchair accessible. But guess what? That's right - the bus we aimed to catch wasn't. So we waited another hour for a bus, and luckily both it and the return bus were OK. John got his hair cut in the meantime. What a shock. He got a number 2 (I generally give him a number 3) and if you'd seen him before, after 8 weeks without a cut, most of you wouldn't have recognised him.
Since our arrival on Tuesday, by Irish Ferries, the weather hasn't been kind to us, although brighter yesterday, and good this morning (Saturday). Hope it stays that way.
We are camped next to some very friendly Aussies from Woodford - our first Aussies. There are many Dutch, Germans, a smattering of English here. In England it was many more English at the caravan parks - most of whom had close relatives in Australia.
The Irish accent is gorgeous. There are many young women with dark brown (almost black) hair with pale complexions and blue eyes. A very nice combination of features. Not as many red heads as I expected.
We've had trouble obtaining gas. The fittings in Ireland are different (no one warned us) and we spent all day Wednesday looking for gas. There are only two places in Ireland which refill it now. One in Dublin, the other in Cork! And the one in Dublin is only open for 2.5 hours in the morning! We ended up getting some 60 kms north, strictly not allowed! But they felt sorry for us.
We are off to Athlone in the middle of the country now. Just an overnight stop on our way to Corrofin in County Clare where we think John's Fitzpatrick gg grandfather is buried.
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