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THE PERIPATETIC GENEALOGIST IN ULSTER
Patrick Campbell, Montreal - Member A 0392
In the summer of 1990, while planning a business trip to England, it occurred to
me to ask my travel agent how much extra it would cost to include Ireland in my
tour, and, because my work was in Yorkshire, it appeared that there would be
almost no additional fare to achieve a lifelong wish, and walk the streets of my
forefathers.
In July, then, I flew to Heathrow, and on to Manchester, and then by car to
Yorkshire to attend to business. On the way back, however, instead of flying
south from Manchester as usual, I loaded my bags and found myself heading out
across Birkenhead and Liverpool Bay, northwest across the Irish Sea. It was a
gloriously clear day, and, before long, we passed over the Isle of Man and onto
the Irish coast close to Downpatrick. Soon we were circling down over Lough
Neagh to land at Aldergrove.
Having some travel experience, I collected my bags and, passport in hand, headed
for Customs and Immigration, only to find myself walking out the front door of
the airport. This was my first Irish surprise, for Northern Ireland, or Ulster
if you prefer, is simply part of the United Kingdom, as is Scotland and Wales,
with no special customs or other checks, and no more than the usual security
checks one would expect on a flight from Mirabel to Moose Jaw.
Returning to the airport, I enquired for local transportation, for my goal was
Bangor, in County Down, where my grandfather was born, and at least two previous
generations. It seems a bus was available for immediate departure to Belfast,
and I was told to alight at a particular stop, close to where the river Lagan
runs into the harbour. Here a few steps took me to a train, and I was soon
heading back eastward along the southern shore of Belfast Lough, past the large
Harland & Wolff shipyard, past the Belfast Harbour Airport, and past a plant
with a large Bombardier sign to remind me of Montreal, for this was the old
Short Brother & Harland plant now taken over by Bombardier. During the war,
Short Brothers, claimed to be the oldest aircraft company in the world, moved
out of their Rochester, Kent, plant and moved here to build their stately
Sunderland flying boats for Coastal Command.
The train trundled on along the coast, with the wide expanse of the Lough on our
left. Here the great convoys of World War I and II used to assemble to commence
their dangerous return journey across the Atlantic. Soon we had passed Holywood
and Helen’s Bay, and wound our way into the main station of Bangor, for it was
a
journey of little more than 12 statute miles.
On alighting at the station, enquiry showed that the travel information bureau
was just down Main Street, right on the waterfront. These offices are found
throughout the British Isles, and are generally marked with a lowercase letter
“i” in white on a field of blue. They are nearly always open, inevitably
polite
and helpful, and are well equipped with local literature and good advice. My
baggage was, of course, loaded on one of those invaluable little two-wheeled
trolleys, so I was able to walk along the waterfront to the bed and breakfast
recommended by the office.
This bed and breakfast is truly one of the best organized systems you will ever
find. The staff ask what you want, and what you want to pay, and I found myself
in a pleasant house on the seashore, with a nice view from my room, clean and
comfortable, and a full “English breakfast” included at a total of about $35
per
night. With the wonderful “pub lunches” available in most of Britain, or
perhaps
by purchasing a few of your own supplies for a picnic lunch, this leaves only
one restaurant meal a day, so costs are very reasonable indeed.
The next morning was time to start work, for I had planned well in advance. All
my records were summarized and photocopied (never carry originals), and I had
photocopy maps of Bangor, one of the 1831 Ordnance Survey, one of the 1901
survey, and one modern 1:50,000 scale map (one inch on the map equals 50,000
inches on the ground, or 1¼ inches on the map equals a mile). In my case this
was Sheet 15 of the Ordnance Survey of Northern Ireland covering Belfast and
County Down. In the Tourist Information I also picked up current large-scale
local street maps and a number of little “walking tour” leaflets.
Now, back to Bangor. My first plan was, literally, to walk the streets known to
my forebears, but it soon became apparent that things had changed. The beautiful
harbour had been mostly filled in to form a marina and various quays for
commercial use, and the street names had been changed in many cases. What my
maps showed as Sandy Row and Kinnegar Street were now called Queen’s Parade,
Ballymagee Street was now High Street, Corporation Street and Fisher’s Row
were
now Victoria Street, Souter’s Row is now King Street. It is essential,
however,
to know the old names, because they are the street names used in deeds and
records. Having tramped the streets for a day or two, they soon became familiar,
and my visits included all the bookstores, antique stores, and several of the
pubs for a nice half-pint of bitter, for walking is uncommonly thirsty work.
Bangor has, of course, all the usual local sights, historic places, famous sons
(and daughters), a fine library, and other items of interest, but the intention
of this article is to give general, rather than particular, information. You
must substitute your own hereditary location.
My next objective was to visit Bangor Abbey and its graveyard. When starting my
research, I joined the North of Ireland Family History Society, and subscribed
to their fine journal North Irish Roots. As the Journal was first published in
the spring of 1984, it was not too expensive to obtain a complete set of
journals, and to obtain a copy of the Ulster Historical Foundation’s excellent
book Gravestone Inscriptions, Volume 17, County Down, Barony of Ards. With this
in hand, I worked my way around the churchyard, transcribing every word from
every Campbell tomb, making a little location map, and usually photographing the
stone. During the day I walked over to a local version of a dépanneur and
Castle
and the adjoining Heritage Centre for lunch. It is really essential to have an
occasional change of pace as genealogy is often very tiring work.
The following day was set aside for Belfast, a most interesting city which I
will also desist from describing, except to say that I walked for miles and
found some lovely places. From a genealogical point of view, the highlight was a
visit to the Linen Hall Library (right across from the City Hall). My objective
here was to get access to what is known as “the Griffith’s Valuation Survey”.
On
entering the library, I simply registered, and was taken to a reading room, and
there were the books, original material in manuscript, not blurry photocopies. I
soon found Bangor and made my notes, street by street, of all the Campbells, the
street numbers, the occupier of the house, the lessor, description of property
and taxable value. This wonderful survey was done between 1848 and 1864 and it
makes a fine start for detailed study.
While avoiding making this a guided tour of Belfast, it was interesting to note
that the centre of the city is a sealed zone, with all buses and cars searched
at checkpoints as they enter, an anti-terrorist measure. While walking into one
of the suburbs, in search of a bookstore, I met a patrol of soldiers, strung out
in a line, wide apart, looking about them in all directions as they proceeded,
and very professional indeed; but they have lots of practice, I suppose. The
only other sign of problems was military vehicles that sped through the streets
at intervals, with two soldiers appearing, head-and-shoulders, through the top
of the vehicles, again alert and well armed. This was, of course, in Belfast;
there was no sign at all of such activities in Bangor.
Lunch in Belfast was another “al fresco” affair, with sausage rolls, grapes
and
a can of beer on the lawn outside the City Hall, surrounded by hundreds of
office workers with sandwiches, soaking up the sun, and lots and lots of
pigeons. I had brought photocopies of several scenic photographs from the family
album, probably taken about 1910, and I took a similar photograph standing in
the same spot, some 80 years later, but in colour instead of sepia.
Next day was time to rewalk the streets of Bangor, and photograph the former
residences of Campbells, or, at least, those seven still standing, to add to my
tombstone pictures, and a picture of a chapel in Sandy Row where I again stood
in the same spot as a forebear when he, or she, clicked the shutter.
Perhaps it should be noted at this point that my branch of Campbells had left
Bangor on or about the turn of the century, my grandfather being the last to be
born there. There was therefore no one to visit who was directly related and, of
course, Campbell is an extremely common name, so I had no hopes of picking up
more than general background. Nevertheless, I had the name of one elderly
Campbell, who lived nearby, and I paid a visit only to find that the old
gentleman had recently died, but that his daughter lived very close to where I
was staying, and my informant felt that a visit would be in order. I knocked at
the door and was well received and the hospitality even extended to the offer of
a drop of Irish whiskey, an offer that was accepted with alacrity.
This family took me down to visit another member of the family, and invited me
back to tea. This new informant was most helpful, for, in spite of her 87 years,
she had a prodigious memory, and I was able to rough out a pretty solid family
tree further with some 55 people stretching back well into the 18th century.
With this, my most detailed family tree for Campbells of Bangor, plus my other
research at the Abbey and in Belfast, I was able to construct some 35 tentative
trees, but none, unfortunately, could tie directly to my own branch of the clan.
With the little time left, for I only had about five days available, I spent
an
afternoon out on the Lough fishing for mackerel, for there are boats alongside
the quay offering afternoon fishing trips for adults at a fare of $6.00,
children $4.00. Yes, I did catch a few, as the captain found a nice school for
us, and everyone caught something. Mine were passed on to a fellow fisher who
taught me the technique of jigging for mackerel.
On my last evening I had set up a meeting with the then President of the North
of Ireland Family History Society, Randal Gill, who happens to live in Bangor.
The result was a delightful evening going through his extensive library, and
even locating some information on one of my own tree, a lawyer in Dublin from
1912, and a marriage certificate from 1847. Mr Gill has been combing the
bookshops for years for street guides. These invaluable references are usually
thrown away when they get out of date, but they are wonderful material for
research. His pride and joy was a street guide of Dublin of, I think, 1904. This
is the issue, if I have the date right, that James Joyce took to Paris to use as
his reference source for Ulysses.
Perhaps this little article will encourage others to do the same sort of trip in
your own chosen area. Make your plans carefully, consult your travel agent, go
the bed & breakfast route, carry a little trolley, use your feet and local
transport, seize all opportunities, and enjoy your hobby. Do not expect to
accomplish too much, but enjoy the local colour and talk to the local people and
your time will be well spent.
Editor’s Note :-
[Thankfully ten years have made a big difference to Belfast and Mr Campbell,
were he to visit us again, would not see any sign of the military presence he
noticed in 1991.]
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