Excel Spreadsheet of Passengers 1832
This spreadsheet is in the process of being completed and is of passengers on the four ships that left for Philadelphia from Derry in Ireland in the Summer of 1832.
http://londonderry.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/duffytemp11.xlsx
On Sheet One are the basic demographic details; on Sheet Two are details of extended family and population shifts; on Sheet Three are any official records such as census details that have been kept on these persons and any extraneous information.
Sunday 11 November 2012
Waxwings Flew in Philadelphia
Friendly voices, dead and gone,
Singing Star of the County Down
Even the ghosts help raise the barn
There now in my hometown
When out of the massing that bodes in the cold west
Flew a waxwing who froze and died against my breast
And all the while, rain like a weed in the tide,
Swans and lists down on the gossiping lawns
Saying "tsk tsk tsk"
I may have changed, it's hard to gauge
Time won't account for how I've aged
Would I could tie your lying tongue
Who says that leaving keeps you young
To cast myself out over the water
Riven like a wishbone
Not naturally given to roam
I will lay low when I return
And move like a gurney
Whose wheels are squeaking
I laugh when you speak of my pleasure-seeking
Among the tall pines, along the lay-lines
Here where the loon keens
Here where the moon leans
Here where I know my violent love lays
Down in a row of silent, dove-gray days
But time marches on.
Adapted with some slight alterations from poem by Joanna Newsom
Friendly voices, dead and gone,
Singing Star of the County Down
Even the ghosts help raise the barn
There now in my hometown
When out of the massing that bodes in the cold west
Flew a waxwing who froze and died against my breast
And all the while, rain like a weed in the tide,
Swans and lists down on the gossiping lawns
Saying "tsk tsk tsk"
I may have changed, it's hard to gauge
Time won't account for how I've aged
Would I could tie your lying tongue
Who says that leaving keeps you young
To cast myself out over the water
Riven like a wishbone
Not naturally given to roam
I will lay low when I return
And move like a gurney
Whose wheels are squeaking
I laugh when you speak of my pleasure-seeking
Among the tall pines, along the lay-lines
Here where the loon keens
Here where the moon leans
Here where I know my violent love lays
Down in a row of silent, dove-gray days
But time marches on.
Adapted with some slight alterations from poem by Joanna Newsom
This site is for those interested in the fates of passengers from Ireland who boarded the ships in Derry in the Summer of 1832 that were bound for Philadelphia - the John Stamp, the Asia, the Prudence and the Ontario. Some fifty-seven of them are said to have been murdered at Duffy's Cut in West Chester PA while building a railway. The task of this blogsite is to find out their identities and to restore their memories to their families back in Ireland.
Quite apart from exploring the truth of that episode - was it cholera, was it cold-blooded murder?- the stories of the other emigrants, though less dramatic, may be no less poignant. Wait and see.
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