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| McColgan Farmhouse |
In the late 1800’s, two brothers and
their respective families lived and worked two side-by-side farms on the Isle
of Doagh, County Donegal, Ireland.
One brother’s name was John McColgan and the
other’s name was Edward McColgan.
John and his wife Grace had fourteen
children. They lived in the “larger”
farmhouse which was also the house where the two brothers had been born and
raised. Edward and his wife Bridget acquired the land
next to this original homestead and had eight children of their own. In
late 1898, Edward contracted consumption, a contagious disease that reached epidemic
levels in Ireland and Britain at that time.
Today, the disease is known as tuberculosis. Sadly, his wife Bridget soon contracted the disease
as well. They died within a month of each
other in the winter of 1899.
Four of
their daughters and one son, ages 10, 14, 16, 19 and 21 were orphaned. Their two oldest daughters had emigrated to
Boston years earlier, when they had turned eighteen. Their son Michael Joseph (my grandfather)
had also emigrated one year earlier.
There was discussion of the siblings staying in Ireland under the supervision of their aunt and
uncle next door, but with fourteen children of their own, John and Grace were likely
unable to support five more. Hence in 1900, the
five siblings travelled together to Boston and settled in with their older siblings. The younger daughters moved in with their older
sisters, each of whom were married at that point. One daughter enrolled in nursing school at
Massachusetts General Hospital.
As for the property owned by
Edward and Bridget, it was sold to a cousin who continued to farm the fields
but let the house fall to ruin.
The original
farmhouse still stands and is in good condition. In fact, it was getting a new thatched
roof during our visit.
If you
Watch The Video, it is the neat little white farmhouse with the red doors.
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| Donegal Homestead |
Maybe you can imagine the feeling
I had as I stood on the cart path just above the two homesteads, one farmhouse
still standing and the other, barely recognizable ruins. I had a tingly feeling to think that this was
the land of my ancestors, where they lived, worked and died. The sheep and cattle were probably of the same
lineage through the years. Why, even the wild
raspberries I sampled were probably the same as those eaten by the family. Spirits of the past!
This visit and paint-out may have been the most gratifying of
all. I’m hoping the deep rich crimson darks and vivid green lights of the land shine through.
