A child's eye view

The Great Famine, though devastating to all areas, caused the most suffering in particular areas. This map shows the areas that were hit the worst.



Being a child, or a parent of a child, in the time of the Great Famine had to be almost unbearable at times. Of course, many of them died. Those that survived suffered through days and nights of hunger pains and illness caused by malnutrition.

The following poem, by Amelia Blanford Edwards, gives us a child's-eye-view of these difficult days:

Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother

Give me three grains of corn, Mother,
Only three grains of corn;
It will keep the little life I have
Till the coming of the morn.
I am dying of hunger and cold, Mother,
Dying of hunger and cold;
And half the agony of such a death
My lips have never told.
It has gnawed at my heart like a wolf, Mother,
A wolf that is fierce for blood;
All the live long day, and the night beside,
Gnawing for lack of food.
I dreamed of bread in my sleep, Mother,
And the sight was heaven to see;
I awoke with an eager famishing lip,
But you had no bread for me.
How could I look to you, Mother,
How could I look to you
For bread to give your starving boy,
When you were starving too?
For I read the famine in your cheek,
And in your eyes so wild
And I felt it in your bony hand,
As you laid it on your child.
The Queen has lands and gold, Mother,
The Queen has lands and gold,
While you are forced to your empty breast
A skeleton babe to hold-
A babe that is dying of want, Mother,
As I am dying now.
With a ghastly look in its sunken eye,
And famine upon its brow.
What has poor Ireland done,Mother,
What has poor Ireland done,
That the world looks on, and sees us starve,
Perishing one by one?
Do the men of England care not, Mother,
The great men and the high
For the suffering sons of Erins Isle,
Whether they live or die?
There are many a brave heart here, Mother,
Dying of want and cold,
While only across the channel, Mother,
Are many that roll in gold.
There are rich and proud men there, Mother,
With wondrous wealth to view,
And the bread that they fling to their dogs tonight
Would give life to me and you.
Come nearer to my side, Mother,
Come nearer to my side,
And hold me fondly, as you held
My father when he died;
Quick, for I can not see you, Mother,
My breath is almost gone;
Mother! dear Mother! ere I die,
Give me three grains of corn.

"Never."

I took a nice trip to Scotland years ago. My friend and I traveled with large backpacks on our backs, took trains and stayed in youth hostels along the way. It was a memorable trip for many reasons, not the least of which was the beautiful Scottish scenery that surrounded us wherever we went.

My most striking memory of the trip was how awestruck I was by the fact that everything was so green - in shades so vivid that they seemed to be unreal. It was a beautiful place and I'd love to mingle with the friendly people and the Highland cows again sometime.

I've always imagined Ireland to be even more beautiful than the Scotland that I knew then. Photography of Ireland (in several volumes that rest on my bookshelves) certainly assures me that it will be. Quaint Irish villages with little thatch-roofed homes, green fields as far as the eye can see, cliff views of the ocean that defy the imagination. I would love to take a long, leisurely trip to the land of my heritage. I even daydream sometimes of living there for a year or so. I had often been saddened to think that my great-great-grandparents, Patrick Tierney and his wife Catherine (Kennedy) Tierney had been forced to leave such a beautiful land. Both had left after spending their childhoods during the famine years.

Imagine my interest when I discovered a letter a couple of years ago written in 1985 by my Great Aunt Mary (McCue) Primiano. Her letter, addressed to my grandparents, described a recent trip she had taken to Ireland by way of France & England.

Of specific interest to me was her description of a short conversation that she had once with her grandmother, "Gran", Catherine (Kennedy) Tierney. It reminded me that the land of Ireland not only has its beauty but a harshness that has made its people strong over the generations.

"We took an overnight trip on the Irish Sea last year. Talk about being a bad sailor. I can get queezy on a ferry and the storm on the Irish Sea darn near did me in.

"I remember asking Gran one time if she ever wanted to go back to Ireland. She laughed and said, 'Never.' After that trip I can now understand why."

Now I know what "Gran", who died on February 4, 1934 in her mid-eighties, would have said if given the chance to go back.

I'll just have to take the trip for her - but I'm sure my stay will be a much more pleasant one than she had.

It's a long way to Tipperary

It was a thrill to get the large envelope in the mail a few years ago from the National Archives in Boston. Inside I expected to find the naturalization application for my great-great-grandfather, Patrick Tierney. I had learned the year that he probably became a U.S. citizen by reading his U.S. census records. Now here were copies of the original documents that had helped to make him a citizen of his new country.

That was exciting enough. Little did I know what information I would find in the application.

I learned (drumroll, please) that Patrick Tierney was originally from County Tipperary, Ireland! Exciting news! After knowing my entire life that I had Irish heritage and being proud of that heritage, finally I knew where one of my ancestors had actually lived in Ireland!

Well, the county, at least.

I know.

It's a large county.

But to be able to look at a map of Ireland and actually zone in on a county and be able to say: "My family lived there!" What joy!

Now if I could only get past the county level and learn the actual town where he lived. Then I can plan my long-awaited trip to Ireland.

A rough start in Ireland

On March 14, 1841 a baby boy named Patrick was born to Michael & Mary (O'Neil) Tierney in County Tipperary, Ireland. Little did this family know what would transpire in their homeland in the near future.

Their lives, which were probably not too easy to begin with, would become tried beyond the imagination.

With the potato being the main food of the rural Irish, the failure of the potato crops in 1845-49 resulted in the disastrous Great Famine. Starvation and famine fever spread through the land; its greatest impact was in those communities on marginal lands. During the last part of the Famine, grain continued to be exported from Ireland to the markets of England, and Indian corn was prohibited by tariffs from entering Ireland (or England).

Government policies were criminally slow to react to the disaster. Workhouses, established under the Poor Law Act of 1838 for the relief of the destitute poor, were overwhelmed. At the height of the Famine, 3,000 per week were dying in the workhouses of Ireland. One million people perished due to the famine and within a decade or two, a further two million emigrated from Ireland.

Tipperary was relatively badly affected by the
Famine. Almost 70,000 people died in the county between 1845 and 1850 particularly in the years 1849 and 1850. The county population fell from
435,000 in 1841, to 331,000 in 1851 and to
249,000 in 1861. The rural population declined by two-thirds in that period and the town population by nearly one-half.

Read more about Tipperary history here.

Living a childhood in this kind of world, it is a miracle that young Patrick Tierney survived and went on to live to age 59, passing away in 1900.

In brief: Summary of the life of Patrick Tierney 1841-1900

The August 7, 1900 edition of the Quincy Daily Ledger newspaper published a City Brevities section. The fourteenth "brevity" down the page is as follows:

J.P. Tiery of Quincy avenue passed away yesterday after an illness of several years. A widow and seven children survive him.

A brevity, to be sure. I was struck with amazement when I read this little obituary.

This was a man (my great-great-grandfather Patrick J. Tierney) who had been born in 1841 in County Tipperary, just prior to the Great Famine in Ireland. He survived and at age 17 immigrated to the United States, married, became a United States citizen at age 35, made a life for himself with various odd jobs, and left seven children.

Most people will never overcome the odds that Patrick Tierney had to overcome in his lifetime. Most people will never need half the courage that he must have had to muster to face each day of his childhood during the Great Hunger, his trip over the ocean to a new land, and his daily work as a laborer, trader, peddler and grocer struggling to make ends meet in Boston's Irish north end during the late 19th-century.

And the newspaper didn't even get his name right.

Source: “City Brevities: J.P. Tiery…,” Quincy Daily Ledger, 7 August 1900, p. 3.

Let's never forget

This famine memorial in Boston, Massachusetts remembers the lives of those who suffered during such a sad time in Irish history and calls us to look toward those in the world today who may be experiencing similar suffering.

This blog is dedicated to the memory of my great-great-grandparents Patrick Tierney of County Tipperary, Ireland and his wife Catherine (Kennedy) Tierney, who survived the Great Famine and came to Boston in search of a better life.

Their humble lives are remembered here with fondness and appreciation. It is our hope that the little that we learn about their lives will strengthen us for our own times.