John Silk and Bridget Molloy
John Silk
Birth: 12 Dec 1835, Beech Hill, Co Galway, Ireland
Father: Michael Silk (~1810-)
Mother: Bridget Ward
Death: 12 Mar 1883, Beech Hill, Co Galway, Ireland
Spouse: Bridget Molloy
Birth: 1839, Co. Galway, Ireland
Marriage: bef 1858, Galway, Ireland
Death: 30 Jul 1916, San Francisco, CA
Children: Mary Agnes (1858-1932) Bridget (Delia) (1868-1942)
John (1859-) Annie Josephine (1871-1954)
Patrick Joseph (1861-1903) Michael William (1872-1960)
James Joseph (1865-1934) Catherine Frances (1875-1952)
Margaret (1867-1867)
The Silks are part of the MacNamara Clan. The original name in Gaelic was O Sioda, which means silk. The name may have originated from the silk trade, but the legend is that two MacNamara brothers became known as Sioda because of their silky hair. In most of Ireland, the name was anglicized as Sheedy, but, in East Galway, it was translated instead of anglicized. Consequently, the Silk name is uncommon elsewhere but is fairly common in the East Galway area. There was even a Silk who worked on the construction of the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock.
Our Silk family was from the townland of Beech Hill (formerly known as Oughterclooney). Beech Hill is about ten miles east of Athenry and five miles west of Kilconnell. In size, it is about 580 acres of undulating grassland, with a few small hills that were planted with Beech trees. Roughly 140 acres of the townland are covered by bog. The River Raford meanders through the estate and there is a small, three arch bridge called Gortmore Bridge which was built in the mid-1700s. A manor house was built in the mid- to late-18th century for the Cullen family, and, by 1814, Beech Hill House was the residence of Bernard Mahon who had inherited it from his mother. The estate of his son James Cullen Mahon was offered for sale in the Encumbered Estates court in July 1851 and was bought by Edward Cripps-Villiers. Cripps-Villiers would have been the Silk’s landlord. Beech Hill House is now in ruins.
Our great-great-grandfather was one of two John Silks born in Bullaun/Grange Parish in the decade of the 1830s. The first was the son of Owen Silk and Bridget Cannon (or Connell), born 1831, and the second was the son of Michael Silk and Bridget Ward who as born on December 12, 1835. He was baptized at New Inn, Clonfert Parish, two days later. His godparents were James and Mary Higgins. Given that the first had a son named Owen (the last Silk to live in Beech Hill) and the other had a son named Michael, our John Silk is most likely to be the son of Michael Silk and Bridget Ward.
According to Griffith’s Valuation, our likely three-times-great grandfather Michael was a small farmer in Skehannagh South, the next townland east of Beech Hill. In 1857, Michael was renting 26 acres of land, twice as much as any of his neighbors. John (son of Michael) Silk had a sister named Mary who was born in 1831 and who was married to a Richard Mullin. John also had a younger brother named Michael (b. 1839) who married Bridget Cannon and whose daughter Delia and son Patrick Francis later came to San Francisco. This Delia married John J Cummings at St. Paul’s Church in San Francisco in 1899. Patrick F was a driver and brewer for the Mission Brewing Company. He never married and died on June 1, 1921.
Birth: 12 Dec 1835, Beech Hill, Co Galway, Ireland
Father: Michael Silk (~1810-)
Mother: Bridget Ward
Death: 12 Mar 1883, Beech Hill, Co Galway, Ireland
Spouse: Bridget Molloy
Birth: 1839, Co. Galway, Ireland
Marriage: bef 1858, Galway, Ireland
Death: 30 Jul 1916, San Francisco, CA
Children: Mary Agnes (1858-1932) Bridget (Delia) (1868-1942)
John (1859-) Annie Josephine (1871-1954)
Patrick Joseph (1861-1903) Michael William (1872-1960)
James Joseph (1865-1934) Catherine Frances (1875-1952)
Margaret (1867-1867)
The Silks are part of the MacNamara Clan. The original name in Gaelic was O Sioda, which means silk. The name may have originated from the silk trade, but the legend is that two MacNamara brothers became known as Sioda because of their silky hair. In most of Ireland, the name was anglicized as Sheedy, but, in East Galway, it was translated instead of anglicized. Consequently, the Silk name is uncommon elsewhere but is fairly common in the East Galway area. There was even a Silk who worked on the construction of the Shrine of Our Lady of Knock.
Our Silk family was from the townland of Beech Hill (formerly known as Oughterclooney). Beech Hill is about ten miles east of Athenry and five miles west of Kilconnell. In size, it is about 580 acres of undulating grassland, with a few small hills that were planted with Beech trees. Roughly 140 acres of the townland are covered by bog. The River Raford meanders through the estate and there is a small, three arch bridge called Gortmore Bridge which was built in the mid-1700s. A manor house was built in the mid- to late-18th century for the Cullen family, and, by 1814, Beech Hill House was the residence of Bernard Mahon who had inherited it from his mother. The estate of his son James Cullen Mahon was offered for sale in the Encumbered Estates court in July 1851 and was bought by Edward Cripps-Villiers. Cripps-Villiers would have been the Silk’s landlord. Beech Hill House is now in ruins.
Our great-great-grandfather was one of two John Silks born in Bullaun/Grange Parish in the decade of the 1830s. The first was the son of Owen Silk and Bridget Cannon (or Connell), born 1831, and the second was the son of Michael Silk and Bridget Ward who as born on December 12, 1835. He was baptized at New Inn, Clonfert Parish, two days later. His godparents were James and Mary Higgins. Given that the first had a son named Owen (the last Silk to live in Beech Hill) and the other had a son named Michael, our John Silk is most likely to be the son of Michael Silk and Bridget Ward.
According to Griffith’s Valuation, our likely three-times-great grandfather Michael was a small farmer in Skehannagh South, the next townland east of Beech Hill. In 1857, Michael was renting 26 acres of land, twice as much as any of his neighbors. John (son of Michael) Silk had a sister named Mary who was born in 1831 and who was married to a Richard Mullin. John also had a younger brother named Michael (b. 1839) who married Bridget Cannon and whose daughter Delia and son Patrick Francis later came to San Francisco. This Delia married John J Cummings at St. Paul’s Church in San Francisco in 1899. Patrick F was a driver and brewer for the Mission Brewing Company. He never married and died on June 1, 1921.
John’s home at the time of his death was likely at the east end of Beech Hill, nestled between a bend in the Raford River and the boundary with Skehannagh South where his parents lived. His house would have been one of dozens of thatched, stone cottages in the area. Most cottages would have been a rectangle of ten by twenty feet at most. The single room would be split in half by a dresser coming out from the wall—and maybe a short partition opposite—to separate the bedroom from the kitchen. There would be two beds, one for all the children and one for the adults. A chicken coop would have been kept in the kitchen near the smoldering turf fire. The family of eleven would have spent much of a wet winter’s day all together in the kitchen. The cows and dogs would be allowed in the house at night for increased warmth. On the Silk’s small farm, the light soil would have been used to raise potatoes, corn, and flax.
Four facts are known for certain about our John Silk. The first is that he married Bridget Molloy about 1857. Second, they had nine children: Mary (born 1858), John (1859), Patrick (1861), James (1865), Margaret (1867), Delia (1868), Annie (1871), Michael (1872) and Katie (1876). All were born in Beech Hill and baptized in Bullaun Parish except for Margaret, who was born in Skehannagh. Margaret died in childhood and John’s fate is unknown, but he probably also died in childhood since the other seven all immigrated to San Francisco and he did not.
Third, he was a “herd” in Beech Hill. In Ireland at the time, there were three classes of peasantry: farmers, farm laborers, and herds. Farmers were essentially share-croppers. According to Roger Richards, an agricultural expert who had investigated working conditions of employees on English farms, “most farm workers were in a pitiable state – only fitfully-employed, malnourished, and living in tumbledown hovels.” The herds “did not match this pattern; or indeed any pattern known, since they formed a class quite distinct from any employed in any of the English districts visited, neither shepherds nor bailiffs, and yet a compound of both.” A substantial indication of difference in status between herds and ordinary laborers was provided by Samuel Clark, who found in a Roscommon marriage register of 1864-1880, that 70% of herds’ daughters married farmers’ sons, while only 8% of laborers’ daughters married into farming families.
Roger Richards elaborated as follows:
They are generally paid by ‘freedoms,’ the freedom consisting of so many ‘collops.’ A collop, the right to keep at the expense of the employer, and running among his cattle:- one cow and one calf, or one mare and one foal (up to November); or three yearling calves; or four ewes with lambs; or six dry sheep. The cash equivalent of a collop is generally given as £5 or £6 according to the quality of the land.
This system of remuneration and the working conditions was rooted in the Brehon Laws from long before the Norman Invasion. An entry of 1741 in the diary of a farmer near Ennis, Co. Clare, set down the responsibilities of herd and employer in respect of fairs, fences, and saving hay on the one hand, and the provision of necessary supports and freedoms on the other:
1st [May 1741] Friday. I agreed with John Higgins as a herd. He is obliged to herd Carhubranagh, Lurgo, Knockfluck and that part of Feninah held by Andrew Flanagan if I do not set it. He is also to save the hay of the meadows at Carhubranagh, Feninah, and Lurgo, with only the help of 6 men. I am obliged to give him horses to turn home hay and also to make it into a reek. He is also to leave my bounds in the same condition he gets them and to go or send the cattle in his care to fair or market. He’s to get Thomas Connor’s sheaf and Teige Connell’s and the sheaf of Thomas Connor’s soil that was tilled by Thomas Haly and to have the freedom of five collops.
"The status of the herds was not secure, though. Many employers regarded the freedoms as anachronistic and wished to replace them with wages. For the tenant farmers’ leagues like the United Irish League (established 1898), the grazing economy which gave herds their livelihoods was immoral because its origins were in earlier clearances, and it was anti-social because it deprived farmer families of land in overpopulated areas."
Aware of this opposition, west of Ireland herds established representative bodies (leagues, associations, and unions) to protect and advance their interests as well. There was a major crisis in 1882 in nearby Roscommon where the herds went on strike. Some landlords imposed evictions and brought in scab labor from Armagh. The strike was ultimately settled in early 1883, and a lasting agreement was forged, but not before a fair amount of violence and intimidation occurred. Almost ten years later, Wilson Fox noted that an agreement dating from 1883 was still observed, more or less, notwithstanding the dissolution of the Roscommon Herds’ Association. Upon agreement being reached, he reported:
"The herds’ league and the masters’ defense fund immediately ceased to exist, and it is satisfactory to be able to say that any friction which existed at the time of the strike has long ago died away. A large employer of labor who took an active part in obtaining the settlement said to me, ‘We are just as good friends as ever,’ and a herd who belonged to the league said, ‘Masters and men are very friendly now."
But the concern had spread to East Galway and, in June of 1882, a large meeting was planned in Bullaun, with other meetings to follow.
The fourth fact about our John is that he died on March 12, 1883. He was only 52 years old. One branch of the family had been told that he was shot down in the road one night coming home from an “organizing meeting.” As good as the story is, though, in 2019, Kevin received a death record from the East Galway Family History Society showing that John had died of heart disease and had been under care for six months. (Kevin’s wise-ass son said, “That’s what East Galway WANTS you to think!”)
Even less in known about Bridget Molloy’s life in Ireland than about John’s. She was born to Thomas Molloy (or Mulloy) and Mary Walters (or Qualters), but we do not know what parish or townland. Her death certificate says she was born in 1839, but the only baptismal record of a Bridget Molloy in the area was a daughter of Thomas and Mary Mulloy of Knockanrams, Moycullen, just west of Galway City, in 1837. The year 1839 saw the worst hurricane to ever hit Ireland and it caused tremendous devastation. January 5th was known as the Night of the Big Wind. According to the Dublin Evening Post,
It has been, we repeat, the most awful calamity with which a people were afflicted. As far as Ireland is concerned, loss of life seems to have been surprisingly low — there must have been very many narrow escapes. It is hard to arrive at firm figures for deaths during and after the storm. Some attempt was made at the time to estimate casualties. We have seen the loss of life put down at 400. This, we should suppose, includes those who perished at sea on the coast of Great Britain and Ireland. For in this Island, it will be found, we hope, that not more than forty or fifty have fallen victims in that terrible night.
Many farmers were badly hit and their crops were destroyed alongside damage to livestock. Houses and out-buildings suffered damage too when roof tiles and windows were broken or ripped apart. In County Galway, uprooted trees rolled along the road. The River Shannon burst its banks and little could be heard over the din of the high winds. Neighbors crawled on their hands and knees to find safety, and in Castebar, Mayo, the wind was so strong that 'it knocked the roof off the corpse-house'. Many thought that the strong winds heralded the end of the world, foretold in superstition to happen on Oíche Nollaig na mBan (‘Women’s Christmas’) – the Feast of the Epiphany on 6th January. Bridget’s family lived through this disaster—her mother likely pregnant with her at the time.
Bridget had a brother named William who came to America in 1870, initially to Boston where he was naturalized in 1871 and then on to San Francisco before 1880. William and his wife Hannah were godparents to John and Bridget’s first son, John. Bridget and John’s oldest children, Patrick and Mary, immigrated to San Francisco in 1881 and lived with their aunt and uncle for a time.
In 1884, Bridget decided to immigrate to America. The decision was motivated by two facts. The first was John’s death. With Jim to run the farm and to herd the animals, they could have stayed, but the climate was clearly inhospitable. The second fact was that, in October of 1883, Bridget became a grandmother for the first time, but her new granddaughter was in America. The desire to be with her daughter and help rear the next generation would have been difficult to overcome if John had been alive. Without John, the decision must have seemed clear. Bridget would live to hold all of her 33 grandchildren over the next 30 years.
Four facts are known for certain about our John Silk. The first is that he married Bridget Molloy about 1857. Second, they had nine children: Mary (born 1858), John (1859), Patrick (1861), James (1865), Margaret (1867), Delia (1868), Annie (1871), Michael (1872) and Katie (1876). All were born in Beech Hill and baptized in Bullaun Parish except for Margaret, who was born in Skehannagh. Margaret died in childhood and John’s fate is unknown, but he probably also died in childhood since the other seven all immigrated to San Francisco and he did not.
Third, he was a “herd” in Beech Hill. In Ireland at the time, there were three classes of peasantry: farmers, farm laborers, and herds. Farmers were essentially share-croppers. According to Roger Richards, an agricultural expert who had investigated working conditions of employees on English farms, “most farm workers were in a pitiable state – only fitfully-employed, malnourished, and living in tumbledown hovels.” The herds “did not match this pattern; or indeed any pattern known, since they formed a class quite distinct from any employed in any of the English districts visited, neither shepherds nor bailiffs, and yet a compound of both.” A substantial indication of difference in status between herds and ordinary laborers was provided by Samuel Clark, who found in a Roscommon marriage register of 1864-1880, that 70% of herds’ daughters married farmers’ sons, while only 8% of laborers’ daughters married into farming families.
Roger Richards elaborated as follows:
They are generally paid by ‘freedoms,’ the freedom consisting of so many ‘collops.’ A collop, the right to keep at the expense of the employer, and running among his cattle:- one cow and one calf, or one mare and one foal (up to November); or three yearling calves; or four ewes with lambs; or six dry sheep. The cash equivalent of a collop is generally given as £5 or £6 according to the quality of the land.
This system of remuneration and the working conditions was rooted in the Brehon Laws from long before the Norman Invasion. An entry of 1741 in the diary of a farmer near Ennis, Co. Clare, set down the responsibilities of herd and employer in respect of fairs, fences, and saving hay on the one hand, and the provision of necessary supports and freedoms on the other:
1st [May 1741] Friday. I agreed with John Higgins as a herd. He is obliged to herd Carhubranagh, Lurgo, Knockfluck and that part of Feninah held by Andrew Flanagan if I do not set it. He is also to save the hay of the meadows at Carhubranagh, Feninah, and Lurgo, with only the help of 6 men. I am obliged to give him horses to turn home hay and also to make it into a reek. He is also to leave my bounds in the same condition he gets them and to go or send the cattle in his care to fair or market. He’s to get Thomas Connor’s sheaf and Teige Connell’s and the sheaf of Thomas Connor’s soil that was tilled by Thomas Haly and to have the freedom of five collops.
"The status of the herds was not secure, though. Many employers regarded the freedoms as anachronistic and wished to replace them with wages. For the tenant farmers’ leagues like the United Irish League (established 1898), the grazing economy which gave herds their livelihoods was immoral because its origins were in earlier clearances, and it was anti-social because it deprived farmer families of land in overpopulated areas."
Aware of this opposition, west of Ireland herds established representative bodies (leagues, associations, and unions) to protect and advance their interests as well. There was a major crisis in 1882 in nearby Roscommon where the herds went on strike. Some landlords imposed evictions and brought in scab labor from Armagh. The strike was ultimately settled in early 1883, and a lasting agreement was forged, but not before a fair amount of violence and intimidation occurred. Almost ten years later, Wilson Fox noted that an agreement dating from 1883 was still observed, more or less, notwithstanding the dissolution of the Roscommon Herds’ Association. Upon agreement being reached, he reported:
"The herds’ league and the masters’ defense fund immediately ceased to exist, and it is satisfactory to be able to say that any friction which existed at the time of the strike has long ago died away. A large employer of labor who took an active part in obtaining the settlement said to me, ‘We are just as good friends as ever,’ and a herd who belonged to the league said, ‘Masters and men are very friendly now."
But the concern had spread to East Galway and, in June of 1882, a large meeting was planned in Bullaun, with other meetings to follow.
The fourth fact about our John is that he died on March 12, 1883. He was only 52 years old. One branch of the family had been told that he was shot down in the road one night coming home from an “organizing meeting.” As good as the story is, though, in 2019, Kevin received a death record from the East Galway Family History Society showing that John had died of heart disease and had been under care for six months. (Kevin’s wise-ass son said, “That’s what East Galway WANTS you to think!”)
Even less in known about Bridget Molloy’s life in Ireland than about John’s. She was born to Thomas Molloy (or Mulloy) and Mary Walters (or Qualters), but we do not know what parish or townland. Her death certificate says she was born in 1839, but the only baptismal record of a Bridget Molloy in the area was a daughter of Thomas and Mary Mulloy of Knockanrams, Moycullen, just west of Galway City, in 1837. The year 1839 saw the worst hurricane to ever hit Ireland and it caused tremendous devastation. January 5th was known as the Night of the Big Wind. According to the Dublin Evening Post,
It has been, we repeat, the most awful calamity with which a people were afflicted. As far as Ireland is concerned, loss of life seems to have been surprisingly low — there must have been very many narrow escapes. It is hard to arrive at firm figures for deaths during and after the storm. Some attempt was made at the time to estimate casualties. We have seen the loss of life put down at 400. This, we should suppose, includes those who perished at sea on the coast of Great Britain and Ireland. For in this Island, it will be found, we hope, that not more than forty or fifty have fallen victims in that terrible night.
Many farmers were badly hit and their crops were destroyed alongside damage to livestock. Houses and out-buildings suffered damage too when roof tiles and windows were broken or ripped apart. In County Galway, uprooted trees rolled along the road. The River Shannon burst its banks and little could be heard over the din of the high winds. Neighbors crawled on their hands and knees to find safety, and in Castebar, Mayo, the wind was so strong that 'it knocked the roof off the corpse-house'. Many thought that the strong winds heralded the end of the world, foretold in superstition to happen on Oíche Nollaig na mBan (‘Women’s Christmas’) – the Feast of the Epiphany on 6th January. Bridget’s family lived through this disaster—her mother likely pregnant with her at the time.
Bridget had a brother named William who came to America in 1870, initially to Boston where he was naturalized in 1871 and then on to San Francisco before 1880. William and his wife Hannah were godparents to John and Bridget’s first son, John. Bridget and John’s oldest children, Patrick and Mary, immigrated to San Francisco in 1881 and lived with their aunt and uncle for a time.
In 1884, Bridget decided to immigrate to America. The decision was motivated by two facts. The first was John’s death. With Jim to run the farm and to herd the animals, they could have stayed, but the climate was clearly inhospitable. The second fact was that, in October of 1883, Bridget became a grandmother for the first time, but her new granddaughter was in America. The desire to be with her daughter and help rear the next generation would have been difficult to overcome if John had been alive. Without John, the decision must have seemed clear. Bridget would live to hold all of her 33 grandchildren over the next 30 years.
In mid-July, 1884, Bridget and her five younger children—James (age 20), Delia (16), Annie (11), Michael (10), and Kate (8)—boarded the SS (steamship) Austrian. The Austrian was a ship in the Allan Line, a part of the Montreal Ocean Streamship Company. It had been built in Glasgow and launched in 1867. Not a new ship, it was about half way through its life expectancy, and it would be scrapped in 1903. In the early 1880s, the Austrian ran from Glasgow to Londonderry to Galway to Boston and on to Halifax.
Four years earlier, the Austrian had served as a famine ship. Another round of potato blight had occurred in 1878-79 and people in West Galway were in dire straights. The Austrian was hired by the Liverpool Relief Organization and the Catholic Colonization Bureau of St. Paul to take 37 families (a total of 338 people) from Galway to Boston. From there they would board a train and be transported to Graceville, Minnesota, where they were to be settled on land grants from the Church, but employed at sharply depressed wages. Their story was chronicled by Bridget Connelly, a descendant of those destitute transportees, in a Forgetting Ireland in 2003.
At 319 by 38.5 feet and 2,458 tons, the Austrian was about the length and two-thirds the width of a football field. It had steam power amidships, but it still carried three sails to conserve fuel when the weather was right. Ships of similar size could carry as many as 500 passengers. This trip was far from full, so there would have been plenty of room to spread out. Of the 134 passengers in steerage, just over half were Irish immigrants. The rest were Scottish, with a half dozen Germans who had switched ships in Glasgow. On steamships, the term "steerage" was used for any part of a ship allotted to those passengers who traveled at the cheapest rate, usually the lower decks in the ship, in large common areas. This was as opposed to “saloon class” where passengers had individual staterooms. In the United States Passenger act of 1882 the definition of "steerage passengers" is quite clearly defined as:
The expression "steerage passenger" means all passengers except cabin passengers, and persons shall not be deemed cabin passengers unless the space allotted to their exclusive use is in the proportion of at least thirty-six clear superficial feet to each passenger.
Though certainly not luxurious, steerage class was not what it had been in the time of the “coffin ships” that brought desperate Famine refugees to America. No one died on this journey of the Austrian. The steerage passengers were carried upon the same deck as the saloon class. Unlike years before, the steerage entrances were permanent and not through hatchways, the latter being used only for light and ventilation in addition to that obtained through the portholes. The steerage was warmed by steam.
The steerage accommodation was in three sections. Forward was where all the single men traveled, and Jim traveled there, separate from Bridget and his siblings. Next was occupied by married couples and families. There was a saloon accommodation and engine space between the men and the married couples. The single women were still further aft, and they had their quarters entirely to themselves. As they were in the charge of experienced matrons and a fully qualified surgeon, they were thoroughly well cared for in every respect. A hospital replete with every requirement was provided for every section and in addition there were two sections on deck for infectious cases. The steerage berths were of canvas hammocks. When not in use, the berths could be compactly stowed away. The space vacated became available for tables and seats during the day. Steerage was also provided with a pantry, from which the emigrants could be supplied with tea and coffee made on the same principal as in the saloon, and, for the women who wanted to make their own, there was an ample supply for teapots and hot water. The main deck, fore and aft, formed a promenade and recreation for the steerage passengers, while the saloon passengers had a special separate deck amidships. No mixing of classes was allowed. There were no dining rooms, and meals were brought from the galley to be served on long tables in the common space allotted to the passengers in each compartment. Newer ships had separate lavatories, with an ample water supply kept in constant circulation by pump.
The trip from Galway to Boston would have taken about five days. The Silks arrived in Boston on July 21, 1884. From there, they then took the train cross-country to San Francisco. They would have ridden in a 60-70 foot-long Pullman car, with pull-down sleeping berths and steam heating. Being mid-summer, they would not have needed the heat. The fanciest cars would have been finished with black walnut woodwork with inlay, framed mirrors between the windows, French plush upholstery, polished brass fixtures, good beds, ample bedding, and deep pile carpeting. The Silks’ car would have been less ornate but still probably more posh than the cottage in which they had lived in Galway. The cost was $125 per person—that would be over $3000 today. And there were six of them! Four years later, the opening of a second transcontinental railway through Arizona to LA caused the price to drop to $25.
The train-leg of the journey took seven days with a layover in the Midwest. In contrast to the five days aboard ship where the only vista was of water, the train trip would have had ever-changing scenery. The family would have boarded a train in Boston and traveled through the farmlands of upstate New York and Ohio—reminiscent of the farms of East Galway, but less green and on a far larger scale—to Chicago, the biggest city they would have ever seen. From there, the train went through yet more farmland in Iowa to Omaha where it joined the Central Pacific Railroad. To quote Bridget Connelly,
Four years earlier, the Austrian had served as a famine ship. Another round of potato blight had occurred in 1878-79 and people in West Galway were in dire straights. The Austrian was hired by the Liverpool Relief Organization and the Catholic Colonization Bureau of St. Paul to take 37 families (a total of 338 people) from Galway to Boston. From there they would board a train and be transported to Graceville, Minnesota, where they were to be settled on land grants from the Church, but employed at sharply depressed wages. Their story was chronicled by Bridget Connelly, a descendant of those destitute transportees, in a Forgetting Ireland in 2003.
At 319 by 38.5 feet and 2,458 tons, the Austrian was about the length and two-thirds the width of a football field. It had steam power amidships, but it still carried three sails to conserve fuel when the weather was right. Ships of similar size could carry as many as 500 passengers. This trip was far from full, so there would have been plenty of room to spread out. Of the 134 passengers in steerage, just over half were Irish immigrants. The rest were Scottish, with a half dozen Germans who had switched ships in Glasgow. On steamships, the term "steerage" was used for any part of a ship allotted to those passengers who traveled at the cheapest rate, usually the lower decks in the ship, in large common areas. This was as opposed to “saloon class” where passengers had individual staterooms. In the United States Passenger act of 1882 the definition of "steerage passengers" is quite clearly defined as:
The expression "steerage passenger" means all passengers except cabin passengers, and persons shall not be deemed cabin passengers unless the space allotted to their exclusive use is in the proportion of at least thirty-six clear superficial feet to each passenger.
Though certainly not luxurious, steerage class was not what it had been in the time of the “coffin ships” that brought desperate Famine refugees to America. No one died on this journey of the Austrian. The steerage passengers were carried upon the same deck as the saloon class. Unlike years before, the steerage entrances were permanent and not through hatchways, the latter being used only for light and ventilation in addition to that obtained through the portholes. The steerage was warmed by steam.
The steerage accommodation was in three sections. Forward was where all the single men traveled, and Jim traveled there, separate from Bridget and his siblings. Next was occupied by married couples and families. There was a saloon accommodation and engine space between the men and the married couples. The single women were still further aft, and they had their quarters entirely to themselves. As they were in the charge of experienced matrons and a fully qualified surgeon, they were thoroughly well cared for in every respect. A hospital replete with every requirement was provided for every section and in addition there were two sections on deck for infectious cases. The steerage berths were of canvas hammocks. When not in use, the berths could be compactly stowed away. The space vacated became available for tables and seats during the day. Steerage was also provided with a pantry, from which the emigrants could be supplied with tea and coffee made on the same principal as in the saloon, and, for the women who wanted to make their own, there was an ample supply for teapots and hot water. The main deck, fore and aft, formed a promenade and recreation for the steerage passengers, while the saloon passengers had a special separate deck amidships. No mixing of classes was allowed. There were no dining rooms, and meals were brought from the galley to be served on long tables in the common space allotted to the passengers in each compartment. Newer ships had separate lavatories, with an ample water supply kept in constant circulation by pump.
The trip from Galway to Boston would have taken about five days. The Silks arrived in Boston on July 21, 1884. From there, they then took the train cross-country to San Francisco. They would have ridden in a 60-70 foot-long Pullman car, with pull-down sleeping berths and steam heating. Being mid-summer, they would not have needed the heat. The fanciest cars would have been finished with black walnut woodwork with inlay, framed mirrors between the windows, French plush upholstery, polished brass fixtures, good beds, ample bedding, and deep pile carpeting. The Silks’ car would have been less ornate but still probably more posh than the cottage in which they had lived in Galway. The cost was $125 per person—that would be over $3000 today. And there were six of them! Four years later, the opening of a second transcontinental railway through Arizona to LA caused the price to drop to $25.
The train-leg of the journey took seven days with a layover in the Midwest. In contrast to the five days aboard ship where the only vista was of water, the train trip would have had ever-changing scenery. The family would have boarded a train in Boston and traveled through the farmlands of upstate New York and Ohio—reminiscent of the farms of East Galway, but less green and on a far larger scale—to Chicago, the biggest city they would have ever seen. From there, the train went through yet more farmland in Iowa to Omaha where it joined the Central Pacific Railroad. To quote Bridget Connelly,
"Out the train window, the emigrants see green, flowering prairie that stretches endlessly flat into the encompass of a wide sky, with only a few cumulus clouds interrupting the limpid blueness. On this warm summer day, the newcomers cannot begin to imagine a prairie winter. The rainy bogs and rocky coastline they left behind in Connemara were cool year-round, seldom colder than 45°F, seldom warmer than 70°F.
They see farmers busy gathering one of the finest hay crops ever. They see fields of tall green wheat sheaves ripening in the sunny late June day. In the flat, empty distance of the horizon, there appears a copse of trees lining the banks of pretty twin lakes. "
The Silks would have seen these same sights, though they knew their destination would be very different.
The layover was either in Omaha or Chicago. From Omaha, they crossed the wide, flat plains of Nebraska and Wyoming and climbed the Rockies before crossing the high plains desert of northern Utah to Salt Lake City. After rounding the Great Salt Lake and crossing more desert into Nevada, they would have climbed the Sierras to Donner Pass before beginning the final descent into Sacramento and Oakland. The last piece of the journey was back on water, with the salt smell in their nostrils, only for the 6.5 miles of the San Francisco Bay to the Ferry Building. There, Bridget’s older children, brother (whom she had not seen in 13 years), and granddaughter Carrie would have been waiting for them. The total trip from Beech Hill to San Francisco probably took about three weeks. Now, of course, it can be done in nine hours.
San Francisco must have been amazing and appalling to them. While not the first big city they had seen, having been through Boston and Chicago, this was different. They had only passed through those towns. San Francisco would be their home for the rest of their lives. Gone were the bogs and thatched stone cottages of East Galway. Here were tall buildings of concrete and wood, and churches bigger than any they had ever imagined. There were people everywhere. The port would have been packed with the hustle and bustle of people about their business, and that energy would have continued when they left the Ferry Building and went down Market street to find Patrick and Mary’s homes. Instead of the lowing of cows, bleating of sheep, and the gurgle of the River Raford, a cacophony of horse-drawn wagons, streetcars, and multiple languages and dialects would have assaulted their ears. They would have seen Finns, Russians, Italians, Chinese, and African-Americans for the first time, and the culture clash must have been jarring. It would have gotten more quiet as they traveled out Market Street to the Mission District where Patrick and Mary lived, but the background noise of their lives would have been changed forever.
Whether Bridget and the children initially lived with her brother William or with Patrick or with the Cogans is not known for certain. Bridget was generally not listed in the Langley’s Directory because it usually only listed the head of household and/or other employed male. James was listed at 1428 Mission Street in 1887, which was where Patrick had been listed the three years before. It is likely Bridget and the rest of the children were here with Patrick after they arrived. The Cogans were just a few blocks away on Page Street and had a new child, Bridget’s first grandson John Patrick.
Bridget lived among her different children over the 30 years, moving from one child’s home to another. She most often lived with Jim, especially when they initially came to San Francisco. Michael’s daughter Muriel said that Bridget never lived with them because Michael’s wife was a very private person, but Muriel did remember Bridget, whom she called “Granny,” boiling water to do laundry in their basement. She described Bridget as a sweet, plump, little old lady who wore black and always had hard candies and other little gifts in her pocket for the grandchildren. Patrick’s daughter Catherine remembered Bridget living with them for a time after Patrick died and before Patrick’s wife Ellen died. Bridget’s granddaughter Maude O’Rourke remembered her as a tiny woman with large children.
According to Maude, Bridget only spoke Gaelic and Maude and her sister Irene felt bad for her that she never really learned English and had trouble communicating. San Francisco was and is a very Irish town, and, at the time, there would have been many Gaelic speakers. The opportunities for a widow to become involved in social groups would have readily existed. Clubs like the Knights of the Red Branch and the Connaught Benevolent Society were mostly male clubs and even their female counterparts were for younger people, but the parents of those younger immigrants would have bonded. Church would have been a place where Bridget could have found other Irish-speaking immigrants, even though she moved around so much that it would have been difficult to establish long-term relationships outside the family. It could have been isolating but need not have been. The City was made of various ethnic enclaves and many native European languages, including Gaelic, would have been spoken on the streets and in shops in the Mission.
At 5:12 on the morning of April 18th, 1906, the people of the City were wakened by a 7.8 earthquake that lasted 42 seconds—quite a long time for an earthquake. Initially, only 134 deaths were reported, but upwards of 3000 deaths actually had occurred, mostly in Chinatown. Despite the length and intensity of the Quake, property damages were limited. The lion’s share of the $400 million in property loss occurred over the next three days due to the Fire.
They see farmers busy gathering one of the finest hay crops ever. They see fields of tall green wheat sheaves ripening in the sunny late June day. In the flat, empty distance of the horizon, there appears a copse of trees lining the banks of pretty twin lakes. "
The Silks would have seen these same sights, though they knew their destination would be very different.
The layover was either in Omaha or Chicago. From Omaha, they crossed the wide, flat plains of Nebraska and Wyoming and climbed the Rockies before crossing the high plains desert of northern Utah to Salt Lake City. After rounding the Great Salt Lake and crossing more desert into Nevada, they would have climbed the Sierras to Donner Pass before beginning the final descent into Sacramento and Oakland. The last piece of the journey was back on water, with the salt smell in their nostrils, only for the 6.5 miles of the San Francisco Bay to the Ferry Building. There, Bridget’s older children, brother (whom she had not seen in 13 years), and granddaughter Carrie would have been waiting for them. The total trip from Beech Hill to San Francisco probably took about three weeks. Now, of course, it can be done in nine hours.
San Francisco must have been amazing and appalling to them. While not the first big city they had seen, having been through Boston and Chicago, this was different. They had only passed through those towns. San Francisco would be their home for the rest of their lives. Gone were the bogs and thatched stone cottages of East Galway. Here were tall buildings of concrete and wood, and churches bigger than any they had ever imagined. There were people everywhere. The port would have been packed with the hustle and bustle of people about their business, and that energy would have continued when they left the Ferry Building and went down Market street to find Patrick and Mary’s homes. Instead of the lowing of cows, bleating of sheep, and the gurgle of the River Raford, a cacophony of horse-drawn wagons, streetcars, and multiple languages and dialects would have assaulted their ears. They would have seen Finns, Russians, Italians, Chinese, and African-Americans for the first time, and the culture clash must have been jarring. It would have gotten more quiet as they traveled out Market Street to the Mission District where Patrick and Mary lived, but the background noise of their lives would have been changed forever.
Whether Bridget and the children initially lived with her brother William or with Patrick or with the Cogans is not known for certain. Bridget was generally not listed in the Langley’s Directory because it usually only listed the head of household and/or other employed male. James was listed at 1428 Mission Street in 1887, which was where Patrick had been listed the three years before. It is likely Bridget and the rest of the children were here with Patrick after they arrived. The Cogans were just a few blocks away on Page Street and had a new child, Bridget’s first grandson John Patrick.
Bridget lived among her different children over the 30 years, moving from one child’s home to another. She most often lived with Jim, especially when they initially came to San Francisco. Michael’s daughter Muriel said that Bridget never lived with them because Michael’s wife was a very private person, but Muriel did remember Bridget, whom she called “Granny,” boiling water to do laundry in their basement. She described Bridget as a sweet, plump, little old lady who wore black and always had hard candies and other little gifts in her pocket for the grandchildren. Patrick’s daughter Catherine remembered Bridget living with them for a time after Patrick died and before Patrick’s wife Ellen died. Bridget’s granddaughter Maude O’Rourke remembered her as a tiny woman with large children.
According to Maude, Bridget only spoke Gaelic and Maude and her sister Irene felt bad for her that she never really learned English and had trouble communicating. San Francisco was and is a very Irish town, and, at the time, there would have been many Gaelic speakers. The opportunities for a widow to become involved in social groups would have readily existed. Clubs like the Knights of the Red Branch and the Connaught Benevolent Society were mostly male clubs and even their female counterparts were for younger people, but the parents of those younger immigrants would have bonded. Church would have been a place where Bridget could have found other Irish-speaking immigrants, even though she moved around so much that it would have been difficult to establish long-term relationships outside the family. It could have been isolating but need not have been. The City was made of various ethnic enclaves and many native European languages, including Gaelic, would have been spoken on the streets and in shops in the Mission.
At 5:12 on the morning of April 18th, 1906, the people of the City were wakened by a 7.8 earthquake that lasted 42 seconds—quite a long time for an earthquake. Initially, only 134 deaths were reported, but upwards of 3000 deaths actually had occurred, mostly in Chinatown. Despite the length and intensity of the Quake, property damages were limited. The lion’s share of the $400 million in property loss occurred over the next three days due to the Fire.
The Great Fire burned for three days, destroying about 2800 acres. The fire started from over 30 sources, including broken gas lines and cook-fires like the famous Ham-and-Eggs Fire. With San Francisco's water pipes shattered by the Quake, little could be done to stop the inferno from incinerating everything in its path.
On the first day, the South of Market was engulfed. Jim Silk and the Morans, Delia and the O’Rourkes, Annie and the Conlans, a pregnant Kate and the Leonards, and probably Bridget lived there. The smoke hung as a cloud on the City and got into every nook and cranny. The Mission burned on the second day and stopped just three blocks from where Michael and his family were living. Patrick’s family and the Cogans were safely further south. After three days, the fires were extinguished; some say by a change in wind, others by the Van Ness firewall. Over 250,000 residents—over 60% of the City’s population—became refugees.
When the fire had burned itself out, William Randolph Hearst arrived in what was left of San Francisco and wrote:
"The hills rolled to the seas as bare as when the pioneers landed in '49. But now they are a blackened waste. North to the bay, west to the Mission, nothing but ruins. The wholesale district is destroyed, the manufacturing district (south of Market), the financial district, and the waterfront section -- all destroyed. I will not attempt any description of this scene; I do not believe that any words of mine could convey the slightest comprehension of the wreck and ruin."
Food was in short supply at first. Men scavenged for canned goods in the debris. Drinking water was a precious commodity. Quickly, soup kitchens cropped up amid the ruins. Everyone waited in lines. But even before the fire had burned out, relief funds, rations, and supplies began to flood into San Francisco. Military garrisons from Portland and Seattle sent 900,000 rations. A relief train arrived from Los Angeles. William Randolph Hearst mobilized the resources of his newspapers and dispatched 12 trains full of supplies and rations from New York. Congress appropriated one million dollars, and pledges of money came from cities, towns, and organizations all over the country. $3 million were given directly to destitute refugees to get started again.
Refugees lived in 26 tent camps thrown up in parks and public areas for months. The camps were under the control of the US Army. Golden Gate, Lafayette, and Dolores Parks, as well as the Presidio and Ocean Beach, had tent camps. The Army erected wood cabins on Potrero Hill, Bernal Heights, and elsewhere later in the year as the weather turned colder. Camps had a peak population of about 16,500 and most were moved out of the parks, by decree, by August 1907. Many of the cabins, known as Earthquake Shacks, were sold and moved to empty lots where they still exist. Where all the different parts of the family stayed is unknown, but the Conlans were definitely in Golden Gate Park and the O’Rourkes were likely on Potrero Hill.
Even before the ashes cooled, determination to rebuild was virtually universal. Hearst sounded the call for hope and recovery:
"One must free the mind of the idea that there has been a fire in San Francisco and must realize that there had been a fire of San Francisco. The whole city had gone up in one mighty blaze. The calamity seems overwhelming and yet the people are not overwhelmed. Everything has been destroyed except that indomitable American pluck. In a month, there will be the beginning of a new and splendid city. In three years, it will be built and busy."
Indeed, it was. By 1910, half the Silk children owned a home.
In her 67 years of life, Bridget had seen many hard times, but it is doubtful she ever witnessed the kind of widespread destitution that resulted from the 1906 Earthquake and Fire. Amazingly, she did not lose any children or grandchildren from this event, and life went on. In 1910, she did lose her brother William, who, like his grandniece Catherine Silk Callaghan, had diabetes, had a leg amputated, and died from gangrene after the surgery. That same year, Bridget moved in with Jim again to help raise her granddaughter Catherine who Jim had taken in after the death of Catherine’s mother Ellen. In 1912, Bridget moved out of Jim’s house again, and she was living at 229 - 11th Street with her grandson John Silk.
The next year, her 33rd and last grandchild, Maxine Silk, was born. It was about this time that one of two surviving photos of Bridget was taken. It is on a postcard from her daughter-in-law Marie to her other daughter-in-law, Mary, and it says Granny is holding 6-month-old Jacalyn. Who Jacalyn was is unknown for certain, but is likely that the card is mislabeled and that the baby is Maxine. This (and another postcard) talk about that fact that Bridget was staying with Marie in Boyes Hot Springs, near where her son Michael and granddaughter Carrie had summer homes. It says, “Took Grannie all of the hills today. She never saw such big rocks in her life.”
Bridget seems to have been having some health difficulties. The other card, dated July 10th, says,
Grannie is having the time of her life between here and Carrie’s place. Watching everything. She had a ?ache the 1st week and last week her eyes were paining her and this week burning fire, so she was not very well since she came here. But she feels better today and the weather is lovely—Not too hot.
Bridget was staying at the Cogan house on 23rd Street on July 30, 1916, when she passed away at the age of 77. The cause of death was listed as acute debilitation of the heart and chronic myocarditis. James purchase a family plot in Holy Cross Cemetery near the Mausoleum. She is buried under a large stone cross, which was flanked by two Irish yew trees. (The trees were cut down after 2012.) Jim, his wife Mary, and several of Mary’s Moran relatives joined her there over the years. Her mass card, which was kept in Mary Coogan’s family Bible, was discovered there 99 years later, in 2015.
Bridget seems to have been having some health difficulties. The other card, dated July 10th, says,
Grannie is having the time of her life between here and Carrie’s place. Watching everything. She had a ?ache the 1st week and last week her eyes were paining her and this week burning fire, so she was not very well since she came here. But she feels better today and the weather is lovely—Not too hot.
Bridget was staying at the Cogan house on 23rd Street on July 30, 1916, when she passed away at the age of 77. The cause of death was listed as acute debilitation of the heart and chronic myocarditis. James purchase a family plot in Holy Cross Cemetery near the Mausoleum. She is buried under a large stone cross, which was flanked by two Irish yew trees. (The trees were cut down after 2012.) Jim, his wife Mary, and several of Mary’s Moran relatives joined her there over the years. Her mass card, which was kept in Mary Coogan’s family Bible, was discovered there 99 years later, in 2015.