Kilkelly, Ireland a song of the Irish emigrant

Sceala Philosopher Location: NYC

Kilkelly in Irish, Cill Cheallaigh is a village in Kilmovee parish in the County of Mayo, Ireland. It is just south of Knock International Airport, lying between the Airport and the town of Knock itself. The village is right along the N17, a major road running between Galway and Sligo. Kilkelly is a small village, notable due to the song "Kilkelly, Ireland", written by an American who discovered a series of letters to his Irish immigrant ancestor by that ancestor's father, written by a schoolmaster in Kilkelly.
The story of the song of the Irish emigrant
'Kilkelly, Ireland' Michael Commins of The Western People. December 2002
The diary of Pat McNamara, the schoolmaster
One hundred years ago on the 17th December, 1902 Pat McNamara, the schoolmaster so fondly commemorated in the beautiful and touching ballad 'Kilkelly Ireland', died in Orlar near Kilmovee and close to the Roscommon border in this part of East Mayo.
Pat taught in Tavrane school and walked the four miles to and from the school throughout his long years in the profession. Born on the 6th March, 1830, he married Catherine Finan from Loughglynn and they raised a family of nine children, five sons and four daughters.

One of the family, Jim was to continue the teaching tradition and with his wife Annie (nee O'Grady) later taught for many years in Tavrane school. Indeed the McNamara association with this school was maintained right into the 1960s.
Pat McNamara, the schoolmaster in the song, was grandfather of Hugh Flatley who now resides in Tubbercurry and formerly of Aughadeffin, Kilmovee. A diary maintained by Pat has been in Hugh's possession for many years as well as a number of photos, documents and others items that throw an amazing light on the social life of a rural community over a century ago.

Few people were able to read in many parts of rural Ireland back then. Literary people like the local school master were in demand to render a host of services such as writing letters to family members of neighbours and friends away in America or England. Neighbours would come to the schoolmaster or priest and convey to them what they wanted to say in the letters.
It was clear that Pat McNamara provided a fine service for the people of the area. Back in the 1970s or early 1980s, Peter Jones, an Amercian born composer whose great grandfather was John Coyne from the general Kilkelly area, found a batch of old letters tied together in a box in the attic of his parents home in America.
These letters had all been posted in Kilkelly and as he poured through them he was overcome with the emotion which re-united him in an extra ordinary way with the land of his forebearers.
The end result of Peter's deliberations was “Kilkelly, Ireland, “the poignant story of a father who sees his sons emigrate from Mayo to America, never to return. But the words of friendship he so lovingly dispatched, with the help of Pat McNamara his friend, convey so much beauty and hidden heartache that they stand out in the classic mould.

The words in the song are taken directly from Mr Coyne's letters as dictated to Pat McNamara and thus carry a powerful resonance which cannot fail to touch the psyche of people raised here in the rural West.
A whole history of a family is unfurled before our eyes... and the song finishes with remarkbly touching lines of the brother at home finally taking over the father's duties in writing to the'lad' in America- “And its funny the way he kept talkin' about you, he called for you at the end”.

Reading Pat McNamara's diary is like unearthing a gem. It is a treasure and records the day to day events in the fields and the countryside. The writing is small but remarkably clear and well preserved through the ages.
Though they are a number of diary entries for August and September, 1879, there is no mention at any stage of the apparition some miles away in the village of Knock. Instead, like so much of the diary, matters are all relating to the land. The entry for August 14th, 1879 notes- “Bid Glavey footing turf”.
On June 17th, 1880, we find the following detail: “John Coyne's cart and Pat Morley's ass drawing turf. Paid John Coyne 2/-.”
So detailed are some of the entries that over a six day period in late August, 1880, he notes the amount of stooks of oats he cut each day, coming to a grand total of 195 at the end of his labours on September 1st.
1880 September 30: Kitty Wier, Mary Coyne, Nelly Keane, Mary Duffy ( Harry), Biddy Mc - spinning wool, finished about 5o'c. October 16- John Glavey (Owen), Owen Cafferky, Pat Harkeson, Mick Tarpey, Sonny Tarpey, Biddy Harrington, Pat Hopkins, Thomas Boyle, Pat Duffy, Mick Coyne, Sonny Connolly, Bid Glavey commenced digging potatoes.
On July 21st 1883, Harry Henry's horse and cart was drawing turf and he was paid 3/-. James Feeney, Mary Callaghan and Winnie Callaghan were reeking and filling turf on the road. “Owen Cafferkey attending at reek. Thomas Sharkey, mare and cart from 3o'c till night. Paid 3/-. Thady Glavey, assisted at reek in the evening.”

There are mentions of such matters as “filling old streets”, building walls, finishing threshing, spreading manure, rolling the oats, “Pat Morley thatching stacks and barns with Mick Tarpey, Orlar, attending”.
On January 31st, 1891 Pat notes “James Bones splitting bogdeal, 2 whiskey”. And on February 5th, we see “Michael Kenny bought 48 palm plants, finishing planting all 14th February ‘91. In April of that year, Mick Henry “ploughed for potatoes, 35 ridges, headlands and all.”

It appears as if the women did a lot of the work when it came to “turning out” the turf from the bog to the road. There are several pointers to this fact. One such refers to June 25th, 1891: “Mary Brennan, Anne Phillips, Bid Forkin, Margy Hunt, Catherine Cafferky, Catherine Forkin - commenced turning out turf on road”.
On the 17th and 18th June, 1892, there is the following entry: “Mark Lydon built chimney to the back of the kitchen chimney and supplied chimney stones and spud stones. Paid 10/- for doing all.” Pat Morley's ass and cart were easily the most “in-demand” services as noted on several pages of the diary.

1896: April 3rd Bridget Henry- sticking potatoes, April 9th - Mick Henry shook and harrowed oats assisted by John Grennan. April 18th - Shaking special, 3 bags, went to bog, cutting turf, Day wet from 11. April 27th - Rolled oats evening (Mick Henry). May 24th - Ellen Henry drawing out turf. Oct 13th - Finished early, fencing after till night.

The McNamara family resided in Orlar in the home where Mrs Nora Conroy (nee Grennan) lives today. Pat and Catherine McNamara are resting in peace in the Abbey cemetery on the shores of lovely Orlar lake. One hundred years on, we remember them and their generation in a special way this day.

The song Kilkelly Ireland
Kilkelly Ireland, eighteen and sixty, my dear and lovin' son john
Your good friend the Schoolmaster Pat McNamara, so good as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England, the house is so empty and sad,
The crop of potatoes is sorely affected, a third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Bridget and Patrick O'Donnell, are going' to be married in June,
Your mother says not to work on the railroad, and be sure to come on home soon.
Kilkelly Ireland, eighteen and seventy, my dear and lovin' son John
Hello to your misses and to your four children, that they may grow healthy and strong
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble, I suppose he never will learn
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of and now we have nothing to burn.
And Bridget is happy you named the child for her, although she got six of her own
You say you've found work, but you don't say what kind, or when you'll be comin' home.
Kilkelly Ireland, eighteen and eighty, dear Michael and John and sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news that your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly, your brothers and Bridget were there,
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly, remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning with money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people are selling, for any price that they can.

Kilkelly Ireland, eighteen and ninety,my dear and lovin' son John
I suppose that I must be close to eighty, its thirty years since you've gone
Because of all of the money you sent me, Im still living' out of my own
Michael has built himself a fine house, and Bridget's daughters have grown
And thank you for sending' your family picture, they're lovely young women and men
You say you might even come for a visit, what a joy to see you again.
Kilkelly Ireland, eighteen and ninety two, my dear brother John,
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner, to tell you that father has gone.
He was living with Brigid, she said he was cheerful and healthy right down to the end
And you should have seen him play with the grandchildren, of Pat McNamara your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother, down at Kilkelly churchyard
He was a stone and a feisty old man, considering that life is so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talkin' about you, he called for you at the end
And why don't you think about comin' to visit, we'd all love to see you again.

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Kilkelly, Ireland a song of the Irish emigrant

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