Church Records Tell All

 

(...but sometimes you need to read between the lines).

It was an entry from the baptismal register of the Catholic parish of Kilcummin which caught my eye. Scanning the records from the mid-1800s for signs of my father-in-law's Falvey family, I noticed the entry for a woman named Maria Falvey. It wasn't so much her name which made me pause, however, but the words above that mention which told me there had to be a story hidden in there somewhere.

The entry was for the baptism of a child born in October of 1854. Starting out in the usual Latin, the priest noted that he had baptized a child named John, but in the place of the usual "filius legitimus" or its typical shorthand abbreviation, the entry specifically emphasized the underlined status as illegitimate. And yet, there was the father's name. Whether he had claimed that responsibility and owned up to that son, or whether everyone in that small townland of Knockauncore would have known anyhow, I can't be sure.

What the entry showed was that, married or not, John's parents were John Kerin and Maria Falvey. Alongside that notation, the sole name designated as the child's sponsor was a woman named Anna Fleming. While Irish baptismal records for that time period toward the later years of the Irish famine sometimes only included one godparent due to the devastation of that era, the naming of one godparent was also a typical statement for children born out of wedlock.

My first wonder, given the same townland as my father-in-law's Falvey family, was whether Anna Fleming was one and the same as the mother of Gobnait Falvey and her siblings—and, possibly, also my father-in-law's great-grandmother Johanna Falvey. In that case, this godmother for baby John Kerin—if, indeed, he was permitted to take his father's surname—would also have been his maternal grandmother, if his mother Maria were Anna Fleming Falvey's daughter.

It was quite possible that that was who this Anna Fleming was. First, Catholic records of that time period and location mentioned all women by their maiden name. Secondly, I had found an entry in Griffith's Valuation for that townland which mentioned a woman named Anne Falvey which, lacking a name of her husband, most likely indicated a widow for that tax record. Since Griffith's Valuation for County Kerry was completed about that same time—July of the previous year—it told me that Anna Fleming of the baptismal mention could likely have been the widow Falvey.

I noted that baptism in my growing list of all baptisms in Kilcummin parish which included a Falvey surname for one of the parents. While the baptismal record was not shy in telling all about the child's legal standing at birth, there was still much to read between the lines as to the identity of his mother Maria—likely Mary—and her connection to the rest of the extended Falvey family recorded in that church parish.

Continuing my line-by-line search through the parish's records, I advanced through the pages to another entry containing that same surname, Falvey. This one, in April of 1866, was for Hanora, a daughter of Daniel Cullinane (entered, according to the priest's handwriting, as Callinan). The child's mother—thankfully entered in Latin as a version closest to her Irish name, rather than some traditional substitutes—was Gubbonetta Falvey. And the godmother was listed as Maria Falvey.

According to some sources, Irish tradition had it that the godparents named at a child's baptism were to be siblings or in-laws of either parent. While that tradition was not as closely adhered to beyond the famine years, there was a good possibility that with this one line of the church record, we can claim this Maria to be sister of Gobnait Falvey and daughter of Patrick Falvey and Anna Fleming. 

There was one other detail which I had missed in my original discovery of the entry for the Cullinane daughter. On returning to this record, having by then noted the earlier entry for the illegitimate birth of Maria's son, I noticed the other person named as godparent for Hanora Cullinane: John Kerin.

Whether John Kerin and Maria Falvey, as parents of their baby John in 1854, had subsequently decided to marry, I can't yet say. I haven't yet made it to the parish's marriage records—if, indeed, they are still even in existence. But reading between the lines, I can't imagine Maria's sister naming the both of them as godparents if the two of them weren't on good terms. Reading between the lines, I'd say John Kerin and Maria Falvey, at some point, had married—and possibly had more children after that point.

Continuing my line by line search through the parish records may reveal that I now have one more family to follow among the Falvey descendants, but that discovery would only have come by reading between the lines, even given an organization which took a "tell all" approach to the records they kept.

The Tedium of Line by Line

 

There is something about reading, line by line, through those Irish baptismal records in the Catholic parish of Kilcummin that makes me want to transcribe the whole lot, enter it into a spreadsheet, and feed that record into AI for analysis. As I scroll through the decades, the surnames from the 1830s give way to an entirely different set—of strangers?—but then, given another ten years, morph back to the same Falveys, Flemings, and Cullinanes I've been seeking.

As tedious as the project has been this month, I haven't yet given up on reading, page by page, through the records. I'm still looking for any entries mentioning the surname Falvey in this County Kerry parish, but by now, I've made it to the end of 1858. 

Now that the Falvey surname has reappeared in the record, it is mostly on account of Gobnait, the possible sister of Johanna Falvey, my father-in-law's great-grandmother. Knowing the variations ascribed to her given name—Abby and Debora have also appeared—I can't be confident that I've found the right relative, but the same husband's name seems to pair with hers, no matter what she was called.

Yet, there have been no other sitings for Falvey family members—with one exception. That entry, one which possibly would be accompanied by a sad story if only I could find a way to confirm it, is one I need to pause and record in these chronicles of Falveys. Whether it leads to a future DNA connection, or even a confirmation that my research is on the right track, I can't yet be sure. But I want to note it while it is fresh on my mind.

With that, tomorrow we'll look into what can be found—spoiler: not much—on a woman in the 1850s named Mary Falvey.

Catching up with Cousin Bait Messages

 

One of the indispensable aspects of researching our genealogy is the access we gain through using online services. Whether for building a family tree or puzzling over DNA matches, most services offer some way for us to directly contact those distant cousins who also are pursuing the same ancestors. Think of this messaging service as a form of "cousin bait."

While I try to connect with key researchers chasing my surnames, it is so easy for those messages on, say, Ancestry or 23andMe to get lost in the translation. Just this week, I was elated to receive a note from someone I had contacted nearly a year ago who, oops, just realized that I had written. What a gift to have received the reply, complete with photographs and a brief biography of each of the ancestors in question! I can certainly say this was one response which was worth the wait.

I realize there are many ways in which messages to researchers may not reach the person intended. Many such messaging systems depend on the subscriber keeping their (hidden) email address up to date. If a subscriber doesn't note their address change, that person won't receive my message, but the host service certainly can't do much about it.

Another reason why messages don't arrive may be because the person no longer maintains a subscription. Thankfully, in one recent case of someone with a lapsed subscription, Ancestry actually followed through and sent the message anyway. I know I'm leaving myself open to spam, but I always include my personal email address in my messages, and thankfully this recipient spotted that in my message and was able to directly contact me, despite no longer being a subscriber. 

Granted, some messages to fellow researchers, if actually answered, yield very little information. That is certainly the luck of the draw. In this week's case, I benefitted from the details I learned from this distant cousin's response. For that, I'm grateful. Each of us knows a little more about our close family from personal experience than others, such as distant cousins, would be able to know. Details gleaned from personal letters, or notes on the back of photographs are gems only close family might have—if, that is, their children and grandchildren didn't indiscriminately toss all those "old papers" and memorabilia.

Those are the details that we might only find if we reach out and connect through messages to our distant relatives whom we stumble upon while using an online genealogy service. Sure, there are many messages which remain unanswered, but it's worth it to go through the effort anyway. I do it in hopes of finding the one who knows the answers that I couldn't have found any other way.

A Little Genealogy R & R

 

Since I'm traveling this weekend, I thought it would be the perfect time to take some genealogy R&R. Not that I'm taking a vacation from genealogy, as for the most part, I find building trees to be relaxing. But the tedium of grinding through page after page of handwritten baptismal records from nearly two hundred years ago has worn me down. I need a change of pace.

Tucked away in my computer's tabs is a history, a to-do list of incomplete research projects spun off from prior months' Twelve Most Wanted goals. One project which has been sitting idle since I researched my mother-in-law's fourth great-grandfather Lyman Jackson back in April was building out the branch of all his descendants. With thirteen children who apparently all lived to adulthood, as you can imagine, that branch has included multiple lines of descent.

Best intentions were to continue that work behind the scenes as I wrote posts for subsequent featured ancestors. But when the search for answers for those hard-to-find Irish documents for my father-in-law's line took up all my time, that behind the scenes work shrunk and shriveled until, instead of growing, it withered on that Jackson family branch.

Rather than a tedious process, I've always found building the American branches on the family tree to be rather relaxing. Over this weekend, a little rest and relaxation break with the Jacksons may be just what I need to span the time before I can return home and tackle my father-in-law's hopelessly hidden Irish roots once again.

Circling Back to D N A

 

Not finding any further documentation for the family of Patrick Falvey in County Kerry, the supposed Irish patriarch for my father-in-law's great-grandmother Johanna Falvey Kelly, I decided it might be time to circle back to those DNA test results once again. Of course, I'll still be searching the baptismal records of the Kilcummin Catholic parish, page by page, but one thing I noticed in that process caused me to spin off toward another focus: those local surnames.

The original couple I've been seeking to verify through documentation has been Patrick Falvey and his wife, Anna Fleming. Since the first Falvey baptismal record I found was dated in 1830, my page-by-page tour through the church records began from that point. Entry after entry, I noticed lots of Flemings, but not many Falveys. There were, of course, other common surnames liberally scattered through the records, such as Sullivan.

Seeing that, my first question was whether Falvey was a surname of someone who married into the Fleming family from another townland. Where were all the other Falveys? After all, according to some records, Falveys were plentiful in County Kerry. What I should have also wondered, however, was whether there was any way to connect the many Fleming family members I was spotting in those baptismal records to Patrick Falvey's wife.

Eventually, the years gave way to a different set of recurring surnames as others faded away in my tour through the Kilcummin baptismal records. By then, I was researching records dated during the famine years, a formidable change agent which understandably could make some family names disappear over broad swaths of the territory. However reasonable my strategy might have seemed when I began it, it was time to reach for another approach.

That's when I went back to those DNA matches descending from unknown Falvey ancestors from County Kerry. There were plenty available to choose from at all the places where my husband has tested. Choosing the best bet of the bunch, I then used Ancestry.com's ThruLines tool combined with the ProTools capability of viewing shared matches, and moved from one confirmed descendant of Patrick Falvey to all the DNA cousins matching that tester.

Bit by bit, I examined each related match, looking for linked—and robust—family trees. Eventually, I landed at two possibilities for further checking, matches who, encouragingly, still live in Ireland. Rather than seeing the Falvey surname featured prominently in those matches' trees, though, I found Flemings. Could it be that I'd find better results following the Flemings than the Falveys? After all, the Kilcummin parish seemed flush with Flemings but barely offering any entries for Falveys.

Following the winding trail from one DNA match to that person's closest cousins, I'll be checking those trees, contacting those matches, and sharing notes. Perhaps there is more to find on that maternal Fleming line than I had originally thought.

The Tedium of Double Checking

 

When a particular ancestor fails to appear in those instant-gratification computerized genealogy searches, what is left to do but go line by line, page by page through the digitized records. At least, we need to look thoroughly where we last saw the family.

So, as I find myself in a tailspin over my father-in-law's Falvey ancestors from County Kerry, I'm not only building those quick-and-dirty trees behind the scenes for DNA matches lacking their own family trees, but I'm also going back and double-checking the records.

In today's case, I took the baptismal records for the Catholic parish of Kilcummin, beginning with the eldest child I could find for Patrick Falvey and Anna Fleming. From that 1830 date, I then went, page by page and noted every single baptism which involved the surname Falvey, whether for the father or the mother. 

I watched, over the years, as the names changed from frequent listings for Fleming family members and that ever-popular Irish surname, Sullivan, to an entirely different set of surnames. By the time I completed the year of 1854, what I saw made me wonder whether those Falveys had died out entirely during the famine years, or possibly all moved away. I wondered, also, if they might merely have moved to a neighboring parish, or made a more permanent move far away from Ireland entirely.

All told, I found eleven entries involving the Falvey surname before I called it quits for the day. I'll continue with the records from 1855 onward tomorrow. But I'll also need to determine where might be the next logical place to look for these Falvey family members. After all, my father-in-law's great-grandmother apparently had siblings left in County Kerry by the time of her own death—if, that is, I can believe what her obituary said.

If Jeremiah was the One

 

We may have found an Irish immigrant from County Kerry named Jeremiah Falvey who shared the same occupation as Gobnait Falvey's son Patrick Cullinane—marble polisher—but that doesn't mean we can stretch possibilities thin enough to support a connection with Gobnait's brother, the one baptized as Demetrius. And yet, another detail draws me to follow what can be found about a Jeremiah naturalized in Boston, Massachusetts.

That detail is the appearance of a Jeremiah Falvey in a family tree linked to a DNA match among my husband's results at Ancestry.com. This match is estimated to be a fourth cousin with a small centiMorgan connection, similar to other Falvey DNA connections of this generational distance I've seen. 

There is, however, one problem with that Jeremiah Falvey connection: the DNA match claims that ancestral line to have lived in Chicopee, Massachusetts, not Boston. The end result is that this pursuit is steering me clear of the Boston Falvey immigrant and towards one of the same name who settled much farther west in the state of Massachusetts. We may, in the end, discover there was no connection between those two Jeremiahs at all, despite both being from the same Irish county.

Furthermore, acting the part of a genealogical Doubting Thomas, I decided to see just how many Irish Catholic church records insisted on shying away from the use of the name Jeremiah, and instead substituting Demetrius, the name given in baptismal records for a son of my father-in-law's proposed Falvey ancestors Patrick and Anna. While a quick and dirty experiment can't explain everything, I figured if that were the tradition for transforming an Irish given name into Latin, there would have been no Catholic records for someone named Jeremiah.

Surprise. That wasn't true. There were several Jeremiahs out there, given under the hand of Irish priests in many Catholic parishes, at least according to this one quick review. There was even a marriage entry for a Jeremias Falvey in our Falveys' home parish in Kilcummin. At least in the later years of the 1800s, folks didn't shy away from using the name Jeremiah in formal records. Rather than truly being Jeremiah, that son's baptismal name Demetrius may well have been literally that: the name of our Patrick and Anna Falvey's son baptized in 1837.

So what about the Jeremiah Falvey who ended up in Massachusetts? Especially considering that he was an ancestor of a DNA match, this will be one line worth following. Building out a tree for this DNA match may point out more details allowing us to see not only how this Jeremiah connects with my father-in-law's Falvey ancestors back in County Kerry, but how his descendants cluster with other DNA matches connected to our direct family line.