I have previously referred to a Black Sheep in the family, in the form of an abusive priest of the worst kind. I am pleased to be able to introduce the antithesis of the abuser, the holiest man in my Family Tree, none other than Father Matthew O’Rourke, my first cousin once removed.

Matthew was born on 7^th November 1918 in the Bronx district of New York City. He was the middle child of five O’Rourke siblings born to one of my grandfather Ned Neary’s sisters (Margaret) who had emigrated from the Sligo farmstead to New York in 1905. In the Bronx, Margaret married her brother-in-law, John O’Rourke, a Leitrim native and a fully-qualified and respected Civil Engineer who worked on many important NY infrastructure projects.

Margaret Neary’s first child, a daughter called Mary, died before the age of two when Margaret was six months pregnant with her second child. The new baby would have started to console John & Maggie O’Rourke over their sad loss, as this child was also a daughter, honourably christened as Margaret Mary in September 1916. The new baby developed into a strong, bright and independent young lady. By 1938, Margaret Mary had breezed through college studies and went in search of a career having been awarded a Major in the field of Chemistry. In 1940, Margaret Mary would have witnessed her younger brother Matthew leaving college with his own BA degree and then attending St Joseph’s Seminary to study to enter the priesthood. Matthew’s life choices must have influenced his older sister because in 1949 Margaret Mary gave up her well-paid employment and became a nun in the Order of the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament. In fact, Margaret Mary lived her own long and holy life as she too devoted herself to God, becoming a Catholic teacher of native Najavo Indians in Arizona before eventually retiring to her convent in Pennsylvania. Margaret Mary died on 7^th November 2008 in the convent hospital, aged 92, an event which upset Fr Matthew … for he was still going strong, and it was his birthday and he related the news of Margaret Mary’s death to me with much sadness in his voice.

During his seminary studies, Matthew was sent in 1944 to work in the poorest black communities of the Southern US states. He spent about a year in these communities, and what he saw was to inspire the majority of his adult life. Matt was fully ordained as a Josephite priest on 10^th June 1947 after completing his ecumenical studies in Washington DC. He was awarded his first ministry as an associate pastor in a mixed race city center parish of New Orleans, and here he was horrified to experience segregated white and black RC mass services. Worse still, the local white kids received a decent education at small publicly-funded schools, but the black children got no formal education at all.

Fr Matt had a vision of opening the deep South’s first mixed race Catholic High School, and so he attended night classes at the local New Orleans university for 5 years graduating with yet another degree; this time a Masters in Education. During this period, Matt became an active campaigner in the burgeoning civil rights movement of the time, trying to gain equality for black Americans. Traditional white supremacists sneered at the Catholic Church’s involvement, and several senior priests were arrested on trumped-up civil disturbance charges. Looking back, Fr Matt wrote:

“Discrimination because of race was almost total. Segregation was everywhere — in the schools, in public transportation, in the stores, in banks, in restaurants, at lunch counters, in the movie theaters, in the parks and swimming pools. Worst of all, there was de facto segregation in the southern churches.”

During these mature student days, Fr Matt eventually assumed full authority over the Raymond Parish of New Orleans. At the time of becoming PP, his city center Catholic Church was still holding one Sunday mass for the white congregation, and then a separate service for the black parishioners, mainly because the influential local white politicians demanded that segregation must be upheld in all public places. Fr Matt announced one week after taking control that there would be just one combined mass service under his ministry, in future. The New Orleans white so-called Christians were up in arms. Fr Matt told them to accept the way forward, or to go and find a different religion. The whites reluctantly accepted Fr Matt’s decision, and crowded into all the pews up front, with the blacks having to stand at the back. Fr Matt wasn’t finished. During his first combined mass sermon, he asked the black senior citizens to walk up the aisle, and he instructed the white families to shuffle around and find seats for their elderly fellow-parishioners. The “change” in local society had started.

In 1950, Fr Matt presided over the building of a new Josephite catholic parish high school. He was appointed the first-ever principal of St Augustine’s in 1951, and served in this role for a decade. Fr Matt invited the “excluded” local black children to attend his school, again to the alarm of much wealthier white families. Even the uneducated black kids were disinclined to join academic classes, so Matt recruited top sports coaches and encouraged the reluctant scholars to venture through the school gates and form initially all-black sports teams. A major turning point came when Matt arranged end-of-term challenge matches in football and basketball, whites v blacks. The whites scoffed but were forced to eat their words when the “Negro teams” trounced their new schoolmates at everything, including track and field events.

Soon after, Matt organized sports tournaments with neighboring schools. Most were unwilling to permit games with St Augustine’s mixed race athletes, but St Augustine’s teams invariably won the scaled-down competitions – and so each exclusive whites-only school lined up to attempt to beat the New Orleans champions from St Augustine’s; a mixed bunch of intelligent liberal white boys and promising muscular black athletes. Integration had been commenced forever, unwittingly in the eyes of white bigots. Of course, Fr Matt was soon able to tell his black sports stars that they had to join the academic classes if they wanted to remain on the sports teams.

Matthew’s foresight and determination was soon recognized by his superiors. He eventually rose through the ranks of Josephite society, and became Director of Education during the turbulent 1960’s decade. Fr Matt now had the power and ability to mould the curriculums and entrance policies of every Christian school or college across America. Today, many black Louisiana politicians, business leaders and sports celebrities pay homage to Fr Matt (fondly nicknamed “The Chief”) and their all-round education at St Augustine’s during the 1950’s and in subsequent years. In truth, most African American students in the USA, past and present, should thank my Irish American first cousin for his relentless courage in gaining equal access to educational institutions for all races – something which is now taken for granted.

Fr Matt visited his mother’s Irish hometown of Tubbercurry on several occasions, and composed his own hand-written version of a Family Tree after seeking out and interviewing relatives. About 10 years ago, I was privileged to be personally introduced to Fr Matt by a new-found NYC-based cousin, as Matt served in his last SSJ role as the Rector of St Joseph Manor in Baltimore, a retirement home for ailing priests from the 1990’s onward. He graciously sent me his detailed O’Rourke Family Tree, and I was therefore able to vastly expand my Neary Family Tree. I reciprocated his kindness by retrieving several Irish vital records featuring his father and uncles, and their forefathers, which Matt had never been able to locate. He said that I had made him a “very happy and contented old man” as he prepared to meet his Maker.

Shortly after his sister Margaret Mary died in Nov 2008, Matt took a heavy fall and broke his hip in seven places and fractured his femur. He was now aged 90 and even his nursing staff felt that the much-loved Fr Matthew would never recover from this devastating accident – but he did. Eventually confined to a wheelchair, Matt was able to communicate with me in Ireland via the phone and with his regular letters and blessings. Remarkably, Fr Matt had become fully computer-literate in old age, and he even sent me the odd e-mail as a disabled nonagenarian to advise me of the births of new family tree members across the world.

The renowned published author, civil rights pioneer and former School Principal and President, with the film star good looks, the Very Reverend Father Matthew Joseph O’Rourke, SSJ, passed away peacefully on 9^th March 2012 at St Joseph Manor. He was buried on 14^th November at the New Cathedral Cemetery in Baltimore.

Last photo: Fr Matt, The Chief (1918-2012) RIP

Apart from my grandfather Ned being (in)famous for funding Ireland’s longest ever pub crawl, I have only managed to pick up one or two other snippets of information about his life in south Sligo prior to his lifelong relocation to the windy moors of east Lancashire.

I am proud to say that one particular field in all of Sligo is still referred to as Ned’s Field. It’s a grand field, leading uphill to an ancient ring fort. It was sold to good neighbours called O’Hara in the 1930’s in order to finance the family’s “emigration” to the Promised Land of booming Lancs (just before WW2 broke out). I like to walk up Ned’s Field. It’s a pity that Ned’s cottage is no more – but Uncle John Neary’s place, right next-door still remains, and was occupied by John until very recently.

John’s cottage and his auld Raleigh bike

Prior to the departure of my Neary ancestors, a few memories remain, recalled by folk old enough to remember. For instance, old “uncle” John James Neary (2nd or 3rd cousin) born in 1924 laughs when he tells me how Ned saved on the regular cottage heating fuel of turf sods cut from the local bog (and dried and turned for weeks on end). Uncle John can recall going into Ned’s cottage and witnessing him burning a fallen tree trunk which was so lengthy that one end was on the fire whilst the slimmer end was poking out of the cottage door and into the “street” (as John describes a single track lane used by just two inter-related farming families). This tree trunk would burn away for a week or so, and would be shunted up to the fire by a few inches when necessary. Talk about domestic health & safety! These cottages had thatched roofs made of dried straw or rushes. Very flammable substances. A spark could have set the whole place alight – but it never seemed to happen. The Neary family would sleep through the night with their own form of central heating. The fires in south Sligo never went out, 24/7.

John also told me that “Kit” (Kate) Stenson, aka grandma [1852-1944], was always in her bed in the “top room” when he was brave enough to venture into Ned’s shack. The “top room” was the only separate bedroom in a traditional Irish cottage. The other 10 or 12 or 14 younger occupants (plus sow) lived in the same cramped space, maybe separated by thin cloth sheets hung from the rafters at bedtime. John told me that Kit was very kind to the young kids. She would put down her clay pipe and reach under her bedclothes and produce the equivalent of sweets or toffees for the modern child. John loved his childhood treats.

My dad’s best school friend pal in the 1930’s was Eddie or Ned Moran. This man is still living, but sadly he is now inflicted with total blindness. His memories are vivid. He tells me of rushing home from school with my dad (both bare-footed) with the intention of riding Ned Neary’s donkeys bareback, up on Ned’s Field. Worryingly he says that “Ned’s asses” were so thin that they would “split you in two”.

Ned Moran was also there when my Neary clan pulled out of the “street” and never returned. Apparently my dad shouted from the cart that he would see Eddie next summer. The two school friends never saw each other again. Unbeknownst to them, a simmering Neary feud about a trespassing sow or a wandering cock determined that Ned Neary’s family would never again set foot on their home sod [until I instigated a truce 70 years later]. Details to follow.

Eddie Moran said that he was brave as he waved my father off to England. He kept smiling and laughing, as instructed. His mother (Annie Gilmartin) had told him to be strong. Then Eddie brought a tear to my eye as he explained that he cried all the way home across the field, after Ned Neary’s ox-cart had departed for the railway station. His best mate, John Thomas Neary, never saw or contacted Eddie Moran again – but Eddie remembers him with fondness, and chuckles away at his memories of Ned’s Field, eighty years ago..

                     Down Survey Map

We don’t mind if we couldn’t spell, or use proper grammar. We could talk. We did talk (in our own language).

And we told tales, and if the townsfolk didn’t like it, so what? We looked after our own; yes, our own asses. I am proud to be a Claddagh Ass. We survived, and we watched them come and go. Where are they now – those that mocked? In the New York smog, or Boston slums; or drinking dewdrops from the mountain, and eating salmon from the Fiddann? We wish them well. They probably wish they never kicked a Claddagh ass.

Old Clada asses are older than ye think

       Not a lot of people know that.

I wondered what Lisa Marie was doing strolling down the lane.

(she’s the daughter of the King and former wife of the Prince of Pop, so that must make her a princess, I suppose)

The reverend James Neligan (1752-1833), who was the Rector of Kilmactigue from 1802 until his death, has left us a most interesting insight into the lifestyle of this once densely populated Parish in the south-west of County Sligo. In his dual role as vicar and magistrate, he was well-placed not only to observe but also to comment on the manners and customs of his fellow parishioners, the majority of whom were Roman Catholics. His relationship with his co-religious was such that on occasion he rented the local chapel for the use of his small flock.  In his obituary in ‘Saunders News Letter’ he is referred to as a “scholar, poet and gentleman”.

 “ The parish of Kilmactigue, which has a rectory and vicarage, is situated in the barony of Liney, county of Sligo, and diocese of Achonry.  It is six miles in length by four in breadth; bounded on the east and south by the parish of Achonry; on the north and west by those of Killasser and Attymass.  A long range of mountains passes through it, most of which is pasturable; it also contains large tracts of wet bog. No woods are to be met within the parish; although in former ages a great part of it must have been covered with timber.

The number of families – by a return made last year by the priest – amounts to twelve hundred Roman Catholic families, to which may be added to the ten Protestant families, four of which have come lately to the parish. The number of houses is stated to be eleven hundred and fifty, to which are to be added those of the Protestant part of the population; in many of these there are two families living together.  Many of these families keep a servant boy or girl, and sometimes both, for three, six or nine months in the year, to assist them in their work.  It is computed that there are on average five children in each family, or rather a house, which however must be a rather large a computation, as many are old people, and many newly married.  The proportion of males and females is nearly equal.  They are mostly poor, maintaining themselves on small portions of land, for which they generally pay a very high price.  There are not thirty families in the parish who pay any of the public taxes included under the hearth and window duty, they are notwithstanding, tolerably healthy, though confined to poor diet, such as potatoes, with milk and eggs occasionally. The population, as well as the prices of provisions, must  have increased very much within the last forty years, as that time Archdeacon Hutchinson,  who was the incumbent, could set the thythes (both rectorial and vicorial) for only £85 per annum, which now exceed £400.

Early marriages is perhaps the principle cause of the great increase in the population.  The young women are generally married from the age of fifteen to twenty, and the men from twenty and upwards.  The portion usually given, is from ten pounds to fifty with the girls, and the young man has generally a smallholding of land, with perhaps a few cattle, to begin the world with. A few instances may occur where one hundred pounds may have been given as a portion with a bride, but such may indeed be called a ‘rava avis’. These marriages are contracted in most instances, without any regard to love, affection, or any of the finer feelings, and are concluded between the friends of the young people, without any reference to their choice or judgement; and it frequently happens, that the bride is dragged to the hymeneal altar, bathed in tears, and compelled to take a companion for life, who is chosen by her parents from prudential motives.  The chief time for marriages is from Christmas until Lent, being the season of the year when people have the most leisure for settling such business.

 When the parents of a young man think it is time for him to take a wife, they consider what young woman in the neighbourhood will be likely to answer the purpose, and having determined on one, the party goes to make the match, as they term it, which is done by sitting up the whole night, talking over the terms, drinking whiskey and smoking tobacco.  The match being concluded, the day is appointed for the marriage, at which time the parties assemble at the abode of the woman, where the priest attends and a plentiful dinner or supper is prepared for the occasion, at which a large number of the friends are entertained, and the abundance of whiskey distributed amongst them; perhaps ten gallons, or more, the price of a middling cow; this, with the accompaniment of a piper, enables them to pass the night in the utmost of festivity. Dancing makes a considerable part of the entertainment, and is considered as a necessary accompaniment amongst them; and hundreds who have never learned the alphabet, or spoken a word of English, have regularly attended the dancing schools, and, at no small expense, become adept in that science.  Singing the old Irish songs makes also a principal part of their entertainment, which they execute with great correctness, as many of them have sweet and melodious voices, well adapted to these melancholy and plaintive strains. Things go on very well in the beginning of the night.

 As long as the reverend pastor holds the chair, he keeps them to regularity and good order; but afterwards the scene changes, and exhibits chaos of tumult, vociferation and drunkenness.  Perhaps three musicians may be  found playing to as many as sets of dancers, a dozen men and women singing as many different songs, and other groups employed in altercation and quarreling. Thus two or three days and nights are spent, before the parties disperse’ and it frequently happens that there is as much money lavished on the entertainment as would amount to half the fortune of the bride.  Such however is the custom of the country, and such the pride and spirit of the people, that they would lay out their last shilling to furnish the feast rather that be thought singular or churlish.

It is only on such occasions as weddings and christenings and at Easter and Christmas, that they afford themselves any sort of animal food. Potatoes furnish the standing dish three times a day throughout the year, except that in summer, when they begin to grow scarce, those who can save a part of their oats from the landlord’s rent, make little meal, which they use either for bread or to make gruel, which they make with their potatoes.

 Although almost every family has one cow, and many of them more than one, yet their pasture is so bad, and their winter feeding so scarce and indifferent, that they have very little milk at any time; but for the winter and spring months scarcely any, particularly if their cows are in calf.  Those who have even one cow put by all the sweet milk for the churning, and use none but the buttermilk; by so doing, they make half a hundred weight of butter in the season, and perhaps more, which they will sell at Sligo, where it is brings from £5 10s to £6 10s. per cwt. and which enables them to pay their rent. They have a good many fowl, and plenty of eggs, which the women sell to procure the price of tobacco, (a luxury to which they are immoderately attached), and such is their infatuation, that, notwithstanding their poverty and nakedness, each family will expend from 10d to 1s 8d per week on that abominable weed, where it is used by the man and wife; for although they could buy as many salt herrings for that money, as would afford them nearly every dinner every day along with their potatoes, they prefer eating them dry, to the want of their beloved tobacco.

The understanding of the inhabitants of this parish, though uncultivated, is acute; they are generally hospitable, complaisant and honest.  The Irish language is universally spoken, but few of them can speak English.

A great number of Saint’s days are observed, which, however, are spent in idleness and drinking, to the great injury of the people, both as morals and industry.

The Lady Days are observed with the most scrupulous attention, that is to say, so far as abstaining from all kind of daily labour, or following trade or calling, although their sanctity does not operate on their minds so as to induce them to refrain from sports and pastimes, cursing or swearing, or frequenting tippling houses, and drinking to excess. At the same time it is not unusual to see then actively employed on Sundays at their usual labour, without seeming to think that they are transgressing a positive command of God, or doing an act either sinful or indecent.  With an equal strictness they observe the fast from flesh meat on Fridays, and during Lent; although if an opportunity offers, they would not scruple to get drunk at these times. On making enquiry from some of the more decent of them, why they acted thus and why they transgressed the positive commands of God, with so little feeling, while they obeyed the ordinances of mere men with such exact devotion, the writer was informed, that their church, which taught them to do so, was infallible, and that it was their duty to obey its decrees.

To the fondness they have for observing holidays, may be added another propensity highly injurious, that of attending at the fairs and markets in their neighborhood, although they have no business to transact there.  From these they seldom return without laying out some part of their small means for whiskey, which often produces rioting and fighting; this is followed by a further loss of time, and waste of money, in going to the Magistrates to obtain justice, and from thence to the Sessions to prosecute their suits. Often indeed they settle their disputes at home, by reference or by arbitration, and the same ingredient which originally produced the quarrel, and marked their heads with bleeding scars, becomes the means of adjusting the dispute; for the compromise is never entered upon but where whiskey can be procured, and here the parties are well fined, by paying for the liquor employed in treating the Brehons, (for thus the arbitrators are called in Irish) and the friends and witnesses who attend at the reference. 

Another source of idleness amongst them, is the constant attendance given at the wakes and funerals of their neighbours; the neglect of which would be considered as a crime of the blacked dye, and an offence not to be forgiven.

It is also a custom amongst them, that when any person dies in a village, all work and labour is totally suspended by all those living in the village, or within a short distance of it, until after the interment; the intermediate space is usually employed in visiting the house where the corpse is exposed, smoking tobacco, or entertaining themselves with certain plays or tricks, which are practiced by the young folks, (some of which are particularly expert in performing these) and which enable them to pass away the long night in the greatest mirth and hilarity; so that a person unacquainted with their customs, passing by, or visiting the house, would be led to believe that they were assembled for the purpose of celebrating a marriage, or commemorating some joyful event rather than condoling with the disconsolate friends of the deceased.  Among the more wealthy people, victuals are provided for those who come to the wake from a distance, and also a due proportion of whiskey and abundance of tobacco and pipes; some of which is also brought to the burying place, with which they regale themselves while the ceremony is being preformed.

These several expenses, which are deemed to be indispensable, and highly creditable to the deceased and to their friends, together with the fees to be paid to the priest, amounting to eight shillings for each person, and the Masses read for the soul of the departed, to bring him out of purgatory, amount to a considerable sum.  The burial of a wife with all the necessary appendages, may in many cases, amount to half the portion which the husband, wife, or child is spoken of, the complaint does not seem to turn so much on the loss of the person, as on the money it has cost the money for the interment.

Among the genteel and opulent families, besides the usual Masses celebrated for the souls of the departed, there is another, no less strange, but to which an uncommon degree of merit and virtue is ascribed; this they call ‘A Month’s Mind’.  The ceremony is attended by as much of their clergy as they can procure at the house where the person dies; where the forenoon of a certain number of days is dedicated to Masses and prayers, for the liberation of the soul of the deceased from its intermediate prison and to send it to the abodes of the blessed; whilst the afternoons are spent in conviviality and innocent recreation, for the purpose the best meats and drink which the country can afford are procured.

The surest proof of the goodness of a man’s life seems to be the largeness of his funeral; and therefore great care is taken to have the remains numerously attended; so that the hundreds, and sometimes thousands are seen assembled to commit one poor putrifying body to its kindred earth, whilst the air resounds with the melodious voices of a large assemblage of females, notwithstanding the doleful and melancholy cries uttered by them, are totally unconcerned about the deceased, and never sully their cheeks with a falling tear, to denote their grief.  A priest was stationed here lately, who, if he had continued, seemed likely to remove some of their gross prejudices, and some unreasonable practices.  He began by prohibiting the use of this Irish Cry at funerals, as being in itself useless, and only fit for uncivilised society.  Reason and good sense, aided by the authority which the Catholic clergy possess over the minds of the people, produced the desired effect, and put a stop to that practice so long as he continued on the parish; but on his removal, they fell into their old practice as fully as ever, so difficult is it to eradicate prejudice confirmed by long custom.

There are returns available for 26 counties, and some of these returns are incomplete.  It is thought that these figures were compiled by surveyors working for Sir William Petty, Surveyor-General of Ireland, who mapped confiscated lands from 1655 to 1659. The returns indicate the number of people living in each townland, and whether they were native Irish or of English origin. 

Figures for the parish of Kilmacteigue:

Irish                            English                        Total

224                                 6                                  230

Former parish Priest’s Death:

The death took place after a long illness at Árd na Gréine Nursing Home, Enniscrone, of Conor Liam Cawley, retired parish priest of Charlestown. His remains were removed to St James’s Church, Charlestown, and his burial mass took place in church grounds. He is survived by his brothers xxxxxx and xxxxx, his sister xxxxxx, brother-in-law xxxxx and sisters-in-law xxxxxx and xxx, nephews, nieces and friends. The late Conor Cawley was parish priest in Charlestown for a number of years until his illness and retirement. He did much good work in the parish and was hugely involved in the big renovation work of St James’s Church. Sincere sympathies are tendered to the bereaved.

This “man” was a relative of mine. You cannot choose your relatives or ancestors. This bland obituary hides the criminal allegations laid against Fr Cawley long before his death. In Ireland of old, The State and Judiciary were loathe to prosecute the fine, upstanding men who served as Roman Catholic ministers especially if they were “sick”. In the locality, Father Cawley was renowned for his indiscretions, of a sexual nature. Employed as a schoolteacher, alarm bells should have rang out loudly. Nothing was said. As a consequence, Fr Cawley was promoted to Canon, so he continued to enjoy swimming with the nuns and the orphan girls.

Whilst my distant cousin rotted away in Enniscrone, attended to by dedicated nursing staff, one of his victims of childhood abuse could no longer live with the scars of being disbelieved. She committed suicide. Again – nothing was said.

No prosecution was ever forthcoming from the Garda Síochána; the guardians of the proud Irish Republic.