Welcome (Céad Míle Fáilte!) to Small-leaved Shamrock

Monday, June 9, 2008

The Small-leaved Shamrock summer reading challenge!

Ireland has a long tradition of literature, both in the Irish and English languages. In fact, after Greek and Latin, the Irish language itself has the oldest literature in Europe. The land is known for both its ancient bards and its more modern poetry and epic works of fiction. Today there are also innumerable non-fiction books touching on subjects related to Irish history and culture.

In the hope that you have some time on your hands this summer to do a little reading, here is a challenge for you:

Read a book of Irish fiction, a selection of Irish poetry or a work of non-fiction about Irish history and/or culture, and share it with us for the 7th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture. Submissions are due Friday, July 25. The carnival will be published Monday, July 28. (This is a slight change from the original deadline.)
If you don't have a blog of your own, read along with us and share your "book reviews" by leaving a comment here.

Hope you'll join us! Better get off to the bookstore or the library and make your summer reading selections right away!

Speaking of reading, if you haven't yet done so check out the 6th edition of the carnival: The many faces of Irish identity. Scroll down to the end to find a summary of the carnival's previous editions. Happy reading!

The many faces of Irish identity

Beyond wearing green on St. Patrick's Day...

Beyond appreciating the sound of your Irish surname as it rolls off of your tongue (or wishing that you had one)...

What does "being Irish" mean to you?

That was the question posed to the contributors of this, the 6th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture.

The answer: many things to many people.

Here are the responses of this edition's contributors, a group that includes a wide range of people: a well-traveled citizen of Ireland, a Pennsylvania town's "unofficial ambassador" for its Irish heritage, a few descendants of proud Irish grandmothers, some family historians who have just begun to learn about their Irish ancestry, and others.

You may find yourself pondering your own answer to the question as you read the responses of our contributors.

What does it mean to be Irish?

"Stubborn tenacity, undaunting hope and joy in the very simple things in life"

To be born Irish (in my experience, at least) is to be born into the family of a proud people. Whether born on Irish soil or born the child of Irish-American immigrants, the various generations on the Irish side of my family tree faced challenges, sufferings and sometimes almost insurmountable odds. Leaving Ireland did not free them from their struggles, but brought new trials along with new opportunities. In my post here at Small-leaved Shamrock entitled To be born Irish, I share my memories of time spent at my grandparents' home as a young girl and my understanding of the mixed feelings that they may have had about their Irish heritage. For an understanding of "the unmistakable tug of remembrance" of Ireland shared by those whose "roots have grown in her rich soil", see my post entitled "Are you ancestoring, dear?" over at A light that shines again.

"Pride in my ancestors for what they overcame"

Bill West (in New England) summed up his response to this edition's question with a simple title that tells it all: PRIDE. His post gives us a little background on the first Irishman on the Boston police force (way back in 1851) and the man's personal encounter with the reality of the "No Irish Need Apply" attitude. Bill goes on to share the story of his own great-grandfather's Irish-American success story in Boston and articulates his personal pride in his Irish heritage. He also expresses his own feelings about the echoes of history that he sees in the current debates on modern immigration issues and the American trend toward identifying individuals as "hyphenated Americans".

"It is often the exile who knows patriotism best"

Loretta Murphy of The Creek answers the question Do You Know What it Means to be Irish? in several ways. First, she tells us a little bit about her hometown of Girardville, Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. Resident population with known Irish heritage: 28.5%. Loretta gives us a short list of what "being Irish" doesn't mean before sharing a poem that she wrote a few years ago after a trip to Ireland. As she states in the introduction to her poem, "it is often the exile who knows patriotism the best". (Not to mention the exile's great-grandchildren.) For more from Loretta on Girardville's population of Irish-Americans, along with a list of the American communities with the most Irish background today, see The Girardville Irish.

"A pot of shamrocks" and "a golden thread connecting generations"

Often told about her grandmother's "100% Irish" heritage, Elizabeth O'Neal of Little Bytes of Life did the math on her own Irish pedigree. Read To Be 100% Irish to learn how her Irish ancestry figures into her family tree. Although it includes only sparse family information, Elizabeth feels that the knowledge that she has about her own Irish heritage is "a golden thread connecting generations". Elizabeth also shares the beautiful story of her grandmother's pot of green shamrocks and how they kept a little bit of Ireland alive for her in her own yard, though far from the Emerald Isle.

"The map of Ireland is on your face"

It seems that Irish grandmothers often deserve the credit for successfully passing down a love for Ireland within the hearts of their grandchildren. Like Elizabeth's grandmother, Janice's wanted to be sure that her granddaughter knew that she was Irish and felt pride in her Irish roots. Janice Brown shares What My Irish Heritage Means to Me and gives us a little glimpse into the life of "Gram", who has a special place in Janice's heart and may find one in yours as well.

Janice also gives us a little American history lesson - from a different perspective than American students may receive in school. Want to know the impact that the Irish had on the settlement of New Hampshire, the American Revolution, the Declaration of Independence, and the Civil War? Read Janice's The Patriotic New Hampshire Men from the "Old Sod" to learn more.

"To never forget the ancestral homeland"

Barbara Joly of Our Carroll Family Genealogy is a fourth-generation Irish-American living in France. In a way, her family has come full circle with her residency in Europe, although she has not yet visited Ireland. Barbara tells us the story of another part of her family who made the circle from Philadelphia back to Ireland and then again back to Philadelphia. The story of Mary Hansen's illness and then her recovery at the hands of family back in Ireland portrays Barbara's love for the stories of our Irish heritage, which she encourages us all to never be ashamed of or forget.

"I may never be able to feel what it means to be Irish"

It was only a few years ago that Tim Agazio, who grew up with a strong Italian-American identity, had any clue that he had Irish heritage. His discovery of his great-great-grandfather's birth in Dublin in the early 19th-century was a surprise to him, and changed his notions about his roots. As Tim shares in his post My Irish Heritage, very little obvious clues to that side of his family's heritage were passed down in the family except perhaps his family's Catholic faith. Read more about his surprise at discovering his Irish roots on his blog Genealogy Reviews Online.

"My sojourn into my Irish history has just begun"

Based on genealogical research thus far, footnoteMaven has found strong ties to Ireland, yet no definitive proof that she herself shares Irish roots. Were her ancestors just passing through Ireland from Scotland (for a century or so) before moving on to America? Read the story of the Campbell clan, and the couple who left Ireland for America circa 1790: "...a new start and a new life for them both; a life from which they would never return to County Tyrone." As their descendant, footnoteMaven is quite far removed from her Irish roots, if indeed she has any. We'll have to stay tuned as she works through her research plan to determine the truth about her possible Irish heritage.

"You can take me out of the country but you can't take the country out of me"

Born and raised in Ireland, Colm Doyle is currently residing in Estonia - his fifth country of residence. As a frequent traveler, he has looked at his Irish nationality from both the inside and the outside. In his post entitled What does it mean to be Irish he shares his perspective on his Irish identity and his thoughts on the complexities that surround the ideas that others have of "Irishness". Colm bemoans the fact that many are "perfectly comfortable in their Irishness sans the Irish language" and makes the realization that "...in essence identity is a personal matter and shouldn't be mixed up in borders, politics or passports." Read more of his thoughts on his own Irish identity at his blog Corcaighist: Musings from the Cork Republic.

As Colm stated in his post, "...at the end of the day there is no one or right way to define Irishness or test someone's Irishness. Afterall a sense of national identity is not a nationality." As we've seen by the response to this edition's question, those that feel a connection to Ireland do so on many different levels and many different ways.

I hope that you've enjoyed joining our various contributors as they've pondered the question of their own connection to Ireland and its culture and heritage.

If you liked what you read, you might enjoy the "back issues" of our Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture.

Thanks for reading this, the 6th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture. Please plan to join us for the upcoming 7th edition. See The Small-leaved Shamrock summer reading challenge! for the details. (Warning: there's homework involved!)

Thanks to Jordan McClements for the use of the beautiful photographs of the Rock of Cashel, County Tipperary, Ireland.

Shamrocks courtesy of Karen's Whimsy.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Happy Anniversary, Small-leaved Shamrock!

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my series of family history blogs.

Small-leaved Shamrock, 100 Years in America and A light that shines again are one year old!

I had known that it was coming, but yesterday in the midst of busy daily activities, it slipped my mind that the one-year mark had arrived. Somehow my inattention to the date seems very appropriate. One of the joys of writing and publishing via blog is just how beautifully that it has allowed me to fit in writing on subjects that I enjoy within the confines of a busy life. Daily life continues to keep up its busy pace around me, yet ideas flow and when I find a quiet moment, I make a short visit to the computer to log my thoughts and to eventually share them with readers like you.

The year has flown, yet somehow I can't imagine life now now without sharing a part of my world and my family history with family, friends and other readers via blog. It has been a tremendously rewarding experience to have this avenue to share information and stories that I have been collecting for many years, and at the same time to find that in the sharing I am inspired to learn more.

In celebration of this one year anniversary of my entry into the world of the weblog, I've done a little counting. Here's the tally thus far:

Small-leaved Shamrock - 116 posts
100 Years in America - 112 posts
A light that shines again - 77 posts

Grand total - 305 posts for my first year of blogging!

This number does not include mention of innumerable drafts that I have started and not quite finished yet. Nor does it really mean too much in the way of importance. What is significant to me is that I've written about things that are meaningful and interesting to me in the realm of my personal family history. I hope that you'll agree and that you've enjoyed sharing a little bit in the story of my family and my Irish, Hungarian and Croatian heritage. If so, please continue the journey along with me as reader as I begin my second year publishing via the web.

Below are a couple dozen highlights from Small-leaved Shamrock over the past year. If you're just being introduced to Small-leaved Shamrock, these are some of my favorite posts and might be good starting places for you to begin reading. If you joined me fairly recently, you might enjoy going back to read some of the oldies but goodies.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture, which was born here at Small-leaved Shamrock. Thus far the carnival has seen five editions. The sixth will be published here next week on June 9.

Topics have covered "all things Irish". The carnivals have been a wonderful collection of various writers from an interesting assortment of blogs sharing their stories and feelings about Ireland and the Irish. Following is a summary of the various editions of the carnival so far:
Thanks to all of you who have been contributing writers to the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture thus far. I look forward to more good reading material from you in the year to come!

Speaking of carnivals, the Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories edited by Thomas MacEntee inspired me last December to write my largest number of articles in any one month. Prompted by various holiday themes, I wrote ten articles on Irish traditions of the Christmas season here at Small-leaved Shamrock (not including a number at my other two blogs), for a grand total of 19 posts that month on this blog. (No wonder I never finished my Christmas cards last year!)

Inspired to celebrate some Irish traditions yourself and to dig further into your own Irish family history? You might enjoy reading a couple of my contributions to our 2nd carnival edition on Irish research:
If you make any exciting discoveries, please share them with me. I always love to hear about long-lost family history that has been newly rediscovered and can then be passed on down through the generations. Who knows? Maybe you'll be inspired to start writing your own family history blog!

Once again as I celebrate my one year blogging anniversary, I send a special thank-you to you, my readers, and particularly to those of you that have taken the time to send comments or emails. Thanks for reading and I look forward to continuing this journey with you for another year.

For more highlights from the world of Lisa's blogs, you might enjoy reading Happy Anniversary, 100 Years in America! and Happy Anniversary, A light that shines again!

Sunday, June 1, 2008

To be born Irish

We made frequent visits to my grandparents' houses when I was a child. Both of their homes were special places, with different types of things to see and touch, different cousins and aunts and uncles to meet there, and different wonderful places in which to play "hide and go seek".

At the home of my grandparents with Irish heritage, I don't remember much talk of the Irish or Ireland. But just as I learned later in life how very Hungarian my Hungarian grandmother was, so it took me reaching adulthood to realize the true Irish character of my other pair of grandparents.

Oh, I knew that they were Irish. With the prevalence of St. Patrick's Day celebrations each year at school, I had asked early whether or not I had any Irish in me. Each year I wore my green and proudly replied (in response to would-be pinchers) that "Yes!" I was "half Irish", thank-you!

Yet, somehow, the pride in our Irish heritage never seemed to be something that was passed down from my grandparents' generation, yet was something that my generation and the previous generation had insisted upon, possibly thanks to the modern American popularity of celebrating St. Patrick's Day as it rolled around each year.

It may have been that my grandparents were just too close generationally-speaking to those family members who had suffered somehow for being Irish.

The poor Irish coal miner who may have died in the mines, the Irish railroad engineer not always supported by the company he worked his life to serve, the immigrant Irish laborer and his wife who had survived the famine as children and never wanted to return to Ireland again...

These were my grandparents' grandparents - they knew them and they had seen some of the hardship of their lives. It wasn't always so good to be Irish. That may be why they had mixed feelings about talking too much with their own grandchildren about what it meant to be Irish. It was sometimes too painful.

My grandfather went on to graduate from Harvard business school and made a career for himself as a retail marketing executive. The grandson of two poor Irish immigrant laborers, he was the first to get a college education and the first to truly break out of the cycle of near-poverty and manual labor that had been the reality of so many generations before him.

When I wear my green today, particularly on St. Patrick's Day each year, I feel pride in my grandfather's accomplishments and in the accomplishments of those before him. The perseverance they each showed against almost insurmountable odds, the strength they exhibited by having to face situations and suffering that should not be required of a human being, this is what it means to me to be Irish.

My hope is that I have inherited at least a small portion of their stubborn tenacity, their undaunting hope and the joy in the very simple things in life that got them through the obstacles that they faced because God had ordained that they were to be born Irish.

Monday, May 26, 2008

A little Memorial Day history lesson

Ever wonder how Memorial Day got its start?

Originally observed as Decoration Day every May 30 by the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) following the Civil War, it was later renamed Memorial Day. Decoration Day was originally intended for soldiers to decorate the graves of their comrades who had died during "the Great Rebellion".

For more on the history of this holiday, see the United States Department of Veteran Affairs' webpage entitled Memorial Day Background or the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers' Office of History's webpage on the origins of Memorial Day, which includes some vintage photographs.

You might also enjoy reading Janice Brown's little history lesson on Decoration Day over at Cow Hampshire.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Two weeks left for you to ponder "Irishness"

As of today you had only one week left to make your submission to the "What does it mean to be Irish?" edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture. Now, make that two weeks!

Something has come up that will make it very difficult for Small-leaved Shamrock to publish the carnival on the date originally intended, so the new deadline is Friday, June 6. The 6th edition of the carnival will now be published on Monday, June 9, a week later than originally scheduled.

That gives you one extra week to ponder the question "What does it mean to be Irish?". So pull out your green, fly your tricolour, and make room for the bard in you as you put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and tell us your feelings about the Emerald Isle and its heritage and culture. Submit your article here. Looking forward to hearing your story!

Friday, May 16, 2008

"Twenty-thousand letters by the men who wore the blue"

Bell Irvin Wiley wrote in the introduction to his book Life of Billy Yank: The Common Soldier of the Union, that:

Twenty-eight years ago, when I had completed research for The Life of Billy Yank, I estimated that I had read twenty thousand letters by the men who wore the blue. These personal documents, along with the ten thousand Confederate letters that I had examined while preparing The Life of Johnny Reb (plus several hundred diaries of participants on both sides), while admittedly a small sampling, afford a more intimate and revealing insight into the mind and character of the American masses than any body of material treating of any other period in the nation's history.
Wiley's book, a departure from many written treatments of the Civil War detailing battle after battle and focusing on generals and strategies, instead looks at the experience of the common Union soldier: his purpose, his struggles and his day to day life in the field.

I am looking forward to reading more of Wiley's insights into the life of the Union soldier. And who knows, maybe I can start working my way through some of those twenty-thousand letters in my spare time...

Thanks to Jennifer of Rainy Day Genealogy Readings for suggesting Wiley's Life of Billy Yank in her post How Did That Civil War Soldier Really Die?

Saturday, May 10, 2008

A modern poet looks back at the Civil War

Daniel Nathan Terry recently took a trip back into the world of the Civil War with soldiers and photographers, both real and imagined. His resulting book of poetry, entitled Capturing the Dead, has won the 2007 Stevens Poetry Manuscript Competition amidst high praise from the National Federation of State Poetry Societies.

The organization's April 2008 issue of Strophes announced Terry's win and described the nature of his work of poetry focusing on the Civil War:

[Capturing the Dead] is a sequence of dramatic lyrics in the imagined voices of Civil War soldiers and photographers, primarily that of a fictional war photographer named Noah Williams...

[Contest judge Jeff] Gundy has high praise for the manuscript he selected as winner of the 2007 Stevens Competition: “Among a very strong set of manuscripts, Capturing the Dead stood out for the clarity of its focus, the precision of its language, and the depth and subtlety of its emotional resonance.” He expresses great admiration for Terry’s “ability to create individual characters,” noting that figures both historical and invented, both obscure and famous, “take on weight and solidity, captured in words that emulate the precision of film.” Even more than this vividness, he admires the poems’ avoidance of claims of absolute truth, their “acute recognition of human subjectivity.” He sees Terry’s Capturing the Dead as belonging in the company of “other great sets of war poems from the last two centuries”: From Whitman’s Drum-Taps to Andrew Hudgins’ After the Lost War. Terry’s poems, he sums up, “offer both fidelity to history and relevance to our own predicament. They have much to teach us.”

Terry's poetry manuscript was chosen out of 201 submissions from both the U.S. and abroad. He is currently enrolled in the M.F.A. program at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. His book will be published by the National Federation of State Poetry Societies' Press and will be available for purchase in June 2008.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

The 1892 Pottsville train explosion: How & why?

After reading about the work of steam engine firemen and engineers, I really enjoyed my recent ride as a passenger on a vintage train and my discussion with its engineer. One thing that I don't want to come close to experiencing, however, is the type of steam engine explosion that took the life of my great-great-grandfather William Cowhey. In fact, just reading about it is difficult enough. The newspaper accounts of the accident show what a sudden and extremely powerful explosion it was. I can't help but wonder about just what would cause an accident of this magnitude.

Now thanks to Ronald Bailey I have an insight into what might have caused that accident on the railroad back in 1892. Ronald Bailey is the President of the Railroad Museum of Pennsylvania Advisory Council, an avid railroad historian, and a licensed steam locomotive engineer. He was able to provide me with an understanding of the technicalities of an explosion such as the one that Engine No. 563 experienced.

Here is his technical explanation of the workings of a pre-1900 steam engine and the possible causes of the type of explosion that killed William Cowhey and the rest of the crew and passengers of Engine No. 563:

A locomotive boiler explosion is usually caused by one of two factors - a defect in the boiler shell or the crew allowing the level of the water in the boiler to drop below the crown sheet of the firebox. In the 19th-century locomotive boilers were commonly made of cast iron rather than steel because steel was far more brittle. Cast iron was stronger than steel and more pliable without tearing. Unfortunately, cast iron could contain unseen inclusions and defects that could cause a failure. As metallurgical techniques improved better types of steel were developed and by the 1890’s almost all locomotive boilers were constructed using steel. Boiler defects were rarely the cause of a boiler explosion in locomotives built after 1900.

A locomotive boiler consists of a cylindrical boiler shell, fabricated of thick cast iron or steel. The boiler shell is thick enough to be able to resist the force of the steam, which, depending upon the locomotive, varied from 125 to 300 pounds per square inch. In 1892 a common boiler pressure was 160 to 180 pounds per square inch, and shell of the boiler was built to safely contain at least twice that pressure.

The steam in a boiler is produced by boiling water. The water is boiled by heat from a fire of wood, coal or oil. The fire is contained in a rectangular box that is placed inside the boiler at the back of the locomotive. To create additional heating surfaces a series of tubes or flues extend from the front of the firebox through the cylinder of the boiler to the front. The hot gasses from the fire are carried through the flues to be exhausted up the stack. The heat of the fire is conducted through the sheets that form the firebox and through the flues into the water, boiling the water and making steam. Most of the heat from the fire passes through the firebox sheets into the water.

This, however, created a problem. To be an effective conductor of the heat, which was necessary to boil the water, the firebox sheets needed to be as thin as possible. This made the sheets of the firebox too thin to be able to able resist being crushed by the tremendous pressure of the steam in the boiler. The solution was to use the strength of the much thicker outside sheets of the boiler shell to support the firebox. This was done by connecting the firebox sheets and the boiler shell with steel bolts, called staybolts. The staybolts conveyed the strength of the boiler shell to the firebox, preventing it from being crushed by the steam pressure. A space was left between the boiler shell and the firebox sheets, through which the staybolts passed, that was filled with water.

The added problem, however, is that the fire in a firebox burns at a temperature between 1,800 and 2,600 degrees Fahrenheit. This is hot enough to melt steel. In fact the only thing that keeps the fire from destroying the firebox of a steam locomotive is that the firebox is surrounded on all sides, except the bottom, by water, which absorbs the heat in the process of boiling and making steam.

Boilers were fitted with “try cocks” (three valves stack one on top of the other) that an engineer could use to check the level of the water. Most locomotives were also fitted with water glasses that displayed the water level.

As long as the water in the boiler was kept at a level that completely covered the firebox, everything worked fine. If, however, the water level was allowed to drop below the top of the firebox, which was called the crown sheet, the metal of the crown sheet would be subjected to the intense heat of the fire without any water to absorb the heat. This could cause the metal of the crown sheet to soften and begin to melt. As the metal softened the steam pressure could force the crown sheet to pull out of the thread of the staybolts. Without the support of the boiler shell through the staybolts, the crown sheet would deform and at some point of stress would crack or tear. This would suddenly create an opening that would allow all the steam and boiling water in the boiler to exhaust to the atmosphere. The almost instantaneous expansion of the steam from 150 to 180 pounds per square inch of atmospheric pressure produced a terrific force, which was usually violent enough to rip the firebox sheets and tear the entire locomotive boiler off of the locomotive frames. The effect was pretty much like a rocket taking off and exploding. Boilers were sometimes hurled hundreds of feet away.

Ronald Bailey goes on to extrapolate possible specific causes for the explosion of Engine No. 563 on November 14, 1892:

So what caused low water condition that created the boiler explosion that killed your great-grandfather?

The article from the New York Times says that Engineer Allison had just brought in a heavy train. It is possible that Allison had engaged in a dangerous practice used by some engineers of deliberately allowing the water level to drop to the bottom of the water glass (which was still a couple of inches above the crown sheet) in order to have more space in the boiler to generate steam to supply the engine when it was working hard. It may be that he miscalculated and allowed the crown sheet to become exposed to the fire without a covering of water.

It may also be that the locomotive boiler was foaming without the crew knowing it. The steam that is produced by a locomotive boiler is not recycled but is exhausted up the stack in order to produce a partial vacuum that would draw the hot gasses from the firebox through the boiler flues. Unfortunately, water is never pure, and it contains solids and sediments that are left behind as the water turns to steam. These materials can concentrate over time as more water is added to the boiler and then boiled away. The solids can collect on top of the water forming a film. As the water boils, the steam bubbles are trapped by the film, creating foam that can make it appear that the water level is higher than it really is. If the boiler was foaming, the crew might not have had any warning that the water level was dangerously low.

The article suggests that the steam pressure was low and that they stopped to build up the pressure. When the throttle was closed, the water level dropped, either because Engineer Allison had allowed it to be low or because the water was foaming, exposing the crown sheet, and setting off an explosion.

The article notes that the “blower” had been turned on. The blower on a steam locomotive is a valve that controls a jet of steam that is piped on the side of the steam nozzle directly under the stack. When the locomotive is not moving and there is no exhaust from the cylinders to create a partial vacuum, the blower can be opened to produce an artificial draft, thus drawing oxygen into the fire. The blower had no connection to the boiler exploding.

The following image shows the remains of a locomotive boiler that exploded on the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad in 1947—a larger and much more modern locomotive than the locomotive from 1892. You can see in the photograph the curved boiler shell, the flat sheets of the firebox, the staybolts that connected the firebox sheets to the boiler shell, and how the steel plates had been ripped apart by the force of the explosion.


A boiler explosion can be powerful enough to rip through steel plates, half an inch thick or more. An explosion can be so violent and so powerful as to rip a boiler off of a locomotive frame, and literally hurl the wreckage of the boiler through the air like a missile.

In the accompanying photograph, the remains of a locomotive after a boiler explosion are visible. The boiler has been torn from the locomotive frame, thrown through the air, and has landed upside down in a nearby field. The rear of the boiler, with the remains of the firebox, is on the left. The smoke box has been deformed and flattened. Strips of lagging are visible where the sheet metal jacketing has been torn loose.


Ronald Bailey currently works a couple of days a month as a steam engineer and fireman. As he states, his "top priority is always to keep the water level up".

After reading his thorough explanation of the ins and outs of steam engine operation and the risk of explosions, I can certainly see why. It may have been an oversight of this type that took the lives of William Cowhey and the other railroaders that night back in 1892.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

"Along the iron veins..."

Along the iron veins that traverse the frame of our country, beat and flow the fiery pulses of its exertion, hotter and faster every hour. All vitality is concentrated through those throbbing arteries into the central cities; the country is passed over like a green sea by narrow bridges, and we are thrown back in continually closer crowds on the city gates.

~ John Ruskin, 1819-1900

Recently my family and I took an enjoyable trip on one of America's many tourist railroads. We boarded the train and immediately felt as if we'd stepped back in time to the days when the railroad was king. The passenger cars were vintage and had such a nostalgic feel to them. Although we didn't walk into it, we enjoyed a peek into the caboose which trailed behind us on our daylong trip. Our conductor was a gentleman who loved to tell stories. He shared many of them as he spoke about the flora, fauna and history of the areas that we were passing by on our rail journey. He also told us about the history of the railroad, and the very train that we were riding that day.


It was a special treat for me when the engineer took the time to stop and speak with us. With many years of experience as both fireman and engineer on a steam engine, he was able to tell me firsthand about the type of work that many of my ancestors had done for a living on the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad.

What a comfortable feeling to be carried along as a passenger on a train and watch the world go by out your window. It may be because of the fond memories that I have of childhood rail trips, or because of the knowledge that I have about my family's history with the railroads, but trains have always had a special place in my heart.

You are not the same people who left that station
Or who will arrive at any terminus,
While the narrowing rails slide together behind you.

~ T.S. Eliot, 1888-1965

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Tell your own Irish-American story!

Got a family story to tell, but not sure you can handle keeping up with a blog? Brian Reynolds has begun a website for people just like you. It is a place where you can share your family's stories and memories, or anything of interest related to Irish-American heritage.

The Irish American Story Project can be browsed by date of submission via the archives, or by category. Want to read "coming home" stories? Browse the articles written by a variety of submitters that fit into that theme, or browse through death, education, family, humour, love, travel and more...

Better yet, submit your own! Only one thing I ask: if your story relates to Small-leaved Shamrock families, please allow me to post it here also!

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

What does it mean to be Irish?

As I learned through my experience writing the 5th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture about the Irish language, Ireland and the Irish mean many things to many people.

What does the Emerald Isle and its heritage and culture mean to you? Share with us your stories about Ireland and what it means to be Irish in the upcoming 6th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture. (Note: An Irish pedigree is not required to participate.)


Posts for this edition of the carnival are due Saturday, May 31, Bank Holiday weekend in Ireland. Submit your entries here. The carnival will be posted here at Small-leaved Shamrock on the actual June Bank Holiday, June 2.

Ireland has been known by so many names and means so many different things to different people. You might know it as:
  • Erin
  • The Emerald Isle
  • Hibernia (as the Romans referred to it)
  • The Land of Saints & Scholars
  • The Silk of the Kine
  • The Old Sod
  • The Poor Old Woman

Hope you'll join us to tell about your own personal experience with and understanding of the land so many love so well.

Because "one language is never enough"...

Want a little introduction to the Irish language, Hiberno-English and the Irish "gift of gab"? Stop on over at A light that shines again for A little Irish language, a bit of Blarney.... It's the 5th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture and its not to be missed!


Agree with the Irish phrase Neamhleor atá teanga amháin? (Translation: One language is never enough.) You'll enjoy a tribute to the language of the bards of Ireland and how that language has influenced places and people throughout history - and how it still does today.

What are you waiting for? Be off to your reading! Go n-éirí an bóthar leat!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Ode to Civil War soldiers

On the heels of the poem by Walt Whitman entitled The Artilleryman's Vision, I'd like to share two additional poems from the Civil War era that I came across while reading The Columbia Book of Civil War Poetry: From Whitman to Walcott edited by Richard Marius.

The first, All Quiet along the Potomac Tonight, reminded me of the hand-written description by Thomas Cowey of he and his brother's own time spent at the Potomac River during the year 1861.
All Quiet on the Potomac Tonight
by Thaddeus Oliver

"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
Except now and then a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.

'Tis nothing--a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost--only one of the men---
Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle.

"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents, in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
Or the light of the watch-fires, are gleaming.

A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night-wind
Through the forest leaves slowly is creeping,
While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard--for the army is sleeping.

There is only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle-bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain.

His musket falls slack--his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for his children asleep--
For their mother, may Heaven defend her!

The moon seems to shine as brightly as then,
That night, when the love yet unspoken
Leaped up to his lips, and when low-murmered vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.

Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun close up to its place,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.

He passes the fountain, the blasted
pine-tree, The footstep is lagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Towards the shades of the forest so dreary.

Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it the moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle--ah! Mary, good-bye!
And the life-blood is ebbing and splashing!

All quiet along the potomac to-night,
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead--
The picket's off duty forever!


If my great-great-grandfather had met the same fate as the private in the poem, I would not be here today nor would hundreds of his other descendants.

The second poem, Ode, was first sung while decorating graves of Confederate soldiers in South Carolina in 1867:


Ode
by Henry Timrod

Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,

Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;
Though yet no marble column craves
The pilgrim here to pause.

In seeds of laurel in the earth
The garlands of your fame are sown,
And somewhere, waiting for its birth,
The shaft is in the stone!

Meanwhile, your sisters for the years
Which hold in trust your storied tombs,
Bring all they now can give—tears,
And these memorial blooms.

Small tributes! but your shades will smile
As proudly on these wreaths today,
Than when some cannon-molded pile
Shall overlook this bay.

Stoop, angels, hither from the skies!
There is no holier spot of ground
Than where defeated valor lies,
By mourning beauty crowned!

For more poetry and song lyrics from the Civil War Era, you might enjoy Rick Hearn's Civil War Poetry website.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

One, two...a trí, a ceathair, a cúig!

Count with me:

A haon (uh HAY*N)...
a dó (uh DOH)...
a trí (uh TREE)...
a ceathair (uh KA-hir)...
a cúig (uh KOO-ig)...

One...
two...
three...
four...

...five more days to submit your post for the 5th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture to be hosted by A light that shines again. The theme is Irish Gaelic (or your experience with it, no matter how limited) and the deadline is Sunday, April 27. Hope to see you there!

Numbers one through five in Gaelic (and their accompanying pronunciation guides) are courtesy of The Irish People's Learn Irish Gaelic Lesson 36.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

"Then resumed the chaos louder than ever..."

I often think about the life of my great-great-grandfather and wonder if he told any stories to his family about his time in service of the nation during the "Great Rebellion". Surely he lay awake some nights remembering the trials he faced as a young soldier.

Walt Whitman's poem, The Artilleryman's Vision, describes such a night spent in memory of long-ago days still fresh on a soldier's mind. According to a description of the poem in The Columbia Book of Civil War Poetry: From Whitman to Walcott edited by Richard Marius, "All this is imagined since Whitman never saw combat. But no poem in this collection better expresses the nostalgia for the war once it was over, the remembered excitement that brought thousands of men on both sides together for reunions with their comrades as long as they lived. Probably no better description of combat emerged from the Civil War - certainly not in poetry."

Here Whitman takes us into the mind of a soldier as he remembers the war while his wife and child are sleeping nearby:

The Artilleryman's Vision
by Walt Whitman

While my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long,

And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant midnight passes,

And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my infant,

There in the room as I wake from sleep this vision presses upon me;

The engagement opens there and then in fantasy unreal,

The skirmishers begin, they crawl cautiously ahead, I hear the irregular snap! snap!

I hear the sounds of the different missiles, the short t-h-t! t-h-t! of the rifle-balls,

I see the shells exploding leaving small white clouds, I hear the great shells shrieking as they pass,

The grape like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, (tumultuous now the contest rages,)

All the scenes at the batteries rise in detail before me again,

The crashing and smoking, the pride of the men in their pieces,

The chief-gunner ranges and sights his piece and selects a fuse of the right time,

After firing I see him lean aside and look eagerly off to note the effect;

Elsewhere I hear the cry of a regiment charging, (the young colonel leads himself this time with brandish'd sword,)

I see the gaps cut by the enemy's volleys, (quickly fill'd up, no delay,)

I breathe the suffocating smoke, then the flat clouds hover low concealing all;

Now a strange lull for a few seconds, not a shot fired on either side,

Then resumed the chaos louder than ever, with eager calls and orders of officers,

While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my ears a shout of applause, (some special success,)

And ever the sound of the cannon far or near, (rousing even in dreams a devilish exultation and all the old mad joy in the depths of my soul,)

And ever the hastening of infantry shifting positions, batteries, cavalry, moving hither and thither,

(The falling, dying, I heed not, the wounded dripping and red I heed not, some to the rear are hobbling,)

Grime, heat, rush, aide-de-camps galloping by or on a full run,

With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles, (these in my vision I hear or see,)

And bombs bursting in air, and at night the vari-color'd rockets.
I share this poem to honor the memory of my great-great-grandfather William Cowhey and all fellow soldiers who did their part in the Civil War. It is posted in celebration of today's Poem in Your Pocket Day.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Everybody needs a little elf

I've written previously about leprechauns, but this is the first time I've written about an elf. Let me let you in on a little secret: I love my elf!

I had heard about this little fellow quite a few months ago, but never took the time to get acquainted. You see, I was busy with other things and didn't think I had time to intoduce myself. Now that I have, I see that we should have met much earlier. This little elf saves me time. I don't know what I did without him!

The elf I am speaking of is Library Elf. This "little fellow" is a godsend to someone like me who loves to read. You see, I love my local library and visit often. Not only am I a card-carrying member, but I also carry the local library cards of my children as well as my cards for various other local and not-so-local libraries. It seems I am always finding the need to search for a book that is not at my own neighborhood branch and often not even in my library system. That's why I've accumulated various cards and visited many, many libraries.

Library Elf, helpful little fellow that he is, helps me keep track of my various materials on loan from different libraries by consolidating all the due dates, holds, etc. into one email message sent at whatever intervals I prefer. The message he sends includes links to the libraries' websites for easy renewal and makes it easy on me to remember to turn materials in on time and therefore avoid late fees.

Visits to libraries have become a regular part of my life and that of my family. We frequent our local branch and many of the staff members there have become like family. On trips I often find myself working in a visit to a library. I have even benefitted long-distance from a few libraries, such as the wonderful help I have received from several in towns that hold my ancestors' records. And of course I would be remiss if I forgot to mention the amazing benefit that I've received from my local Family History Center which has brought microfilmed records from the Family History Library within my reach.

If I had to choose a favorite in library-land, however, it would have to be the New York Public Library at 5th Avenue & 42nd Street (particularly its Irma and Paul Milstein Division of United States History, Local History and Genealogy). Who couldn't love a library guarded by Patience and Fortitude?

Now to go check and see if I've gotten today's message from that little elf...
Thanks to Lori Thornton of Smoky Mountain Family Historian for suggesting a post about libraries during this week's celebration of National Library Week.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Things for pockets: maps and poems

As I mentioned over at 100 Years in America, I am a lover of maps. What joy when I found a map representing another of my favorite things: poetry!

Check out the National Poetry Map at Poets.org and make sure you don't forget to celebrate April (National Poetry Month) in some kind of poetic way.

You might even want to carry a poem in your pocket...

Happy National Poetry Month!

A challenge to all readers who write their own blogs: Share a favorite poem on your blog for Poem in Your Pocket Day, April 17, 2008. I look forward to reading all of your favorites!

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Two weeks left to work on your Irish Gaelic

...in time for the Irish Gaelic edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture, that is!

Do your spring cleaning (glanadh an earraigh) along with us and help us air out a few words and phrases by dusting off your Irish Gaelic dictionary and joining us for the carnival.

It is springtime! The time has come to put away the winter clothes (tá an t-am tagtha éadaí an Gheimhridh a chur ar leataobh) and bring some Irish Gaelic out into the fresh air!

Hope you'll join us for the 5th edition of the Carnival of Irish Heritage & Culture to be posted over at A light that shines again, We will honor the beauty of the Irish language with a focus on Irish Gaelic names and words.
  • Has the charm of the name of a place in Ireland always called to you to visit someday?
  • As a child did you secretly wish you had the Irish name of a great-grandparent instead of the name you were born with?
  • Do you have a story to tell about someone with an Irish surname?
  • Is there an Irish proverb that you have always loved to let slide off of your tongue in its original language?
Join us for the carnival. The only prerequisite is that your post must tie in with our focus on the Irish Gaelic language.

Posts for this edition of the carnival are due April 27. Submit your entries here. The carnival will be posted at A light that shines again on St. Ciarán's Day, April 30. (Well, one of the St. Ciarán's days - there are actually 14 in the calendar of Irish saints. Now there's one popular Irish Gaelic name!)

There is no better way to revive Irish
than for a crowd of people to spread it.
~ Douglas Hyde

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Just where was William Cowhey during the Civil War?

As always with the study of genealogy, one discovery opens up more questions and sets the seeker of family history off in new directions.

It was no different when I received the multi-page file from the National Archives & Records Administration detailing my great-great-grandfather William Cowhey's application for pension for his service during the Civil War.

The file is a fascinating series of affidavits, medical reports, declarations, claims, and other government documents, including a gem handwritten by his brother Thomas detailing a particular war experience that he suffered through with William. Read that story at Crossing the Potomac with William: a soldier's story.

One new piece of information that appears on various documents throughout the pension file had me puzzled initially. I knew from previous research that the two brothers had served together for 3 months during 1861 in Pennsylvania Infantry Company I-16 of Pottsville: from April 26, 1861 to July 30, 1861. Alongside William's service in Company I-16, his additional time in the service of the Union is also mentioned. According to affidavits signed by William and his wife Margaret (Foley) Cowhey and also according to the War Department, William also re-listed and served from January 30, 1862 to January 30, 1865 in Company L-5.

That's a significant time in the service of the Union. Of particular interest to me is the fact that it occurred after the onset of William's rheumatoid arthritis (which, according to his statements in the pension file, had its onset during his first three months of service in 1861).

These facts open up many more questions for me in terms of what type of action William Cowhey saw during the Civil War and what type of life he led, health included.

In my initial search for more information about these additional three years of William's life as a soldier during the Civil War I've received help from Military History Online and its Civil War forums. Thanks to the knowledgeable and generous individuals who read and comment on the forums, I've confirmed that William seems to have served in Company L 5th Artillery, Regular Army. (There is more than one Pennsylvania 5th, you see).

I've also received a brief summary of what type of action William's regiment saw during the course of their three years of service, but have lots more to learn. The history of the U.S. Regular Army Battery L 5th Artillery online at the Civil War Archive doesn't seem to square exactly with the dates listed in the documents that I have indicating William Cowhey's time of service. That and the History of the 5th U.S. Artillery online along with the Civil War Soldiers & Sailors website may provide some clues as to William's life as a soldier from 1862 to 1865, but I have a lot more research to do before I can make sense of it all.

Now, there was no draft back during the time of the Civil War, so William had to have been recruited as a volunteer. Why would a man with rheumatoid arthritis (which presumably was first set off because of his duties as a soldier) offer to enlist again - and how would he serve for three full years?

I was interested to read the suggestions of one commenter on the Civil War forum: "Maybe his arthritis was better, and maybe he had liked his stint in the 13th PA. Possibly he was down on his luck and 'three hots and a cot' sounded good. Maybe he had a friend(s) enlisting in the Regular Army."

There is probably no way for me to learn what William Cowhey's motives were for serving in the Union Army those three additional years. (Unlike William, his brother and fellow-first defender Thomas never re-enlisted.) But just what did William Cowhey experience during the Civil War? Three years fighting for the Union is a long time. With a little more research I hope to find out just where Company L-5 went and what they did during their three-year tour of duty.

Stay tuned for more on the story of my great-great-grandfather William Cowhey, Union soldier...

Source: William Cowhey (Pvt. Co. I, 16th Pa. Inf., Civil War), pension no. S.C. WC 376.459, Case Files of Approved Pension Applications, 1861-1934; Civil War and Later Pension Files; Department of Veterans Affairs, Record Group 15; National Archives, Washington, D.C.

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