Irish Roots »

  • Lovely, Gnarly Nitty-Gritty Dublin Records

    May 11, 2015 @ 10:58 am | by John Grenham

    For anyone interested in researching Dublin ancestors, Dublin City Library and Archive has long been a logical starting-point. Their digital version of the city voters’ lists between 1938 and 1964, four million imaged, searchable and browseable records, has been a staple of research since it was first unveiled in the Pearse St Reading Room in 2006. One of the very few truly sequential Irish sources, it allows researchers to follow any family year- by-year through the streets of the capital over three decades – especially useful for adoptees trying to trace birth families.

    Since 2006, a series of smaller (but still very useful) digitised material has also appeared in the Reading Room and on a directory of Dublin graveyards, 14,000 transcripts of commemorative plaques around the city, ancient freemen and early municipal electors.

    All of these, including the giant collection of 20th-century electoral records, have now been brought together and made searchable online from a single starting point, (Full disclosure: I was involved in coding the new site.)

    Apart from the existing material, there is plenty new: complete burial registers for three Dublin City Council cemeteries, Clontarf, Drimnagh and Finglas; a composite directory of the city between 1647 and 1706, put together from four separate sources; and a now-complete run of municipal electoral lists between 1908 and 1915, adding almost 150,000 new records.

    The addition of the electors’ lists covering 1913 and 1914 is especially welcome. DCLA doesn’t have these years, and the National Archives very generously gave them copies to fill the gap, a wonderful example of joined-up, public service collaboration. They are the working records used by the courts for voter registration, and are very different to the official lists already online, full of scribbled crossings-out, marginalia, objections – lovely, gnarly nitty-gritty stuff.

    My only complaint is that DCLA hasn’t made enough fuss about the new site. There should be marching bands, fire-eaters, dancing in the streets.

  • 90 per cent squint-free!

    May 4, 2015 @ 9:07 am | by John Grenham

    I recently had a hands-on trial of the prototype of the promised National Library of Ireland Roman Catholic parish register microfilm website. It was extraordinary.

    The Library’s official line sensibly underplays expectations, presenting the project as a form of outreach that merely expands access to the NLI microfilm room onto the web. And it certainly does that. Page-images from the microfilms leap to the screen at the click of a button (at least with a decent broadband connection), all instantly scrollable, zoomable, printable, adjustable.

    But the site has the potential to be much more than the sum of these parts. The navigation by map and parish-name is utterly intuitive, permitting Ireland-wide overviews, easy movement between adjoining parishes and a comprehensive search of variant parish names. And the way the microfilms have been imaged allows you to skip directly to a particular month in any register. If you want to start looking at Kilfenora baptisms for 1840, you can go straight to the page image where January 1840 begins: 90 per cent squint-free.

    Opposition to the project still exists, with some heritage centres lobbying local TDs to jog the Minister’s elbow. Understandable, up to a point. There is no doubt that the project will have an impact on the centres’ income from their transcript-only site, or that some centres are storehouses of invaluable local knowledge which it would be a shame to lose. But the new site will also be a wonderful opportunity for them. One of the first things I did was to find a transcript on rootsireland and go to the corresponding microfilm page. It was a revelation: seeing the actual entry had an immediate punch, a vivid immediacy that was much greater than the transcript. But finding the entry in the first place was only possible with the transcript.

    Marry the two – it’s not rocket science – and the centres would have a world-beater.

  • Catherine Murphy for Taoiseach

    April 27, 2015 @ 10:43 am | by John Grenham

    Just before Christmas 2013, the Oireachtas Joint Committee on the Environment, Culture and the Gaeltacht held a series of public hearings on maximising our cultural and genealogical heritage. Its report was finally published at the start of this month ( ).

    Catherine Murphy TD, prime mover behind the hearings and the author of the report, was only given authority to act on behalf of the committee (as “rapporteur”) in January of this year. Hence the delay. But it was well worth waiting for. Anyone with even the remotest interest in Irish genealogy should read it.

    The original hearings canvassed the widest possible range of views and for its summary of these alone the report is essential reading, giving a superb bird’s-eye snapshot of the multitude of competing agendas in play. The overview of record-sources is also an eye-opener, shedding light on areas I was hazy about myself, in particular Land Registry records.

    But at the heart of the report are its 37 recommendations and these will rightly be the focus of most attention. If they have a flaw, it is that some try too hard to accommodate the conflicting approaches the committee heard. It is difficult, for example, to see how No 2, the recommendation to establish “a national diaspora and genealogy centre which acts as a central information point” squares with No 8, which urges the maintenance and improvement of local research facilities.

    This is hairsplitting, however. The overall goal urged in the report is no less than the establishment of Ireland as a European centre of genealogical excellence, and its recommendations are models of clarity and sanity in the service of that aim: “ The majority of our genealogical records are public goods and public access is the desired goal”; “ It is vital that the General Register Office accepts that one of its core functions is the facilitation of genealogical research”; “The system must be designed with the end user in mind.”

    The real question, of course, is whether any of the recommendations will be implemented.

    Catherine Murphy for Taoiseach?

  • Return of the Civil Registration Kid

    April 20, 2015 @ 9:13 am | by John Grenham has recently re-launched new versions of the civil registration indexes removed with unseemly haste 10 months ago: birth indexes now up to 1913, marriages to 1938 and deaths to 1963.

    The good news is that access remains completely free, everything is easily browsable, and entries after 1900 contain significantly more information than the copies already available from the Mormons on (and FindMyPast and Ancestry). Birth index entries from 1900 now record the mother’s maiden name, making it possible to reconstruct families with some degree of probability, as is already the case on FamilySearch from 1928. And the marriage indexes supply the spouse’s name and exact dates starting in 1903, removing uncertainty from existing index searches between 1903 and 1938. Two hurrahs, so far.

    However, my initial searches immediately turned up gaps, entries listed in the FamilySearch index that simply don’t come up on IrishGenealogy.

    Counting gift horses’ teeth heads my list of hobbies, so I set about cross-checking record numbers in the two versions.

    Looking at the record-counts for all three events in three well-separated registration districts every year between 1880 and 1913 made a number of patterns very clear. First, only 27 out of the 306 counts were identical. Remember, these are supposed to be transcripts of the same records: less than 10 per cent of the tallies actually match. In the vast majority of cases, the Mormon transcript includes more than IrishGenealogy. For births, this came to more than 2000 records, almost 4 per cent of the total over these 34 years. Some of this may be due to flaws in the FamilySearch version – the Mormons regularly transcribe things more than once (they seem to have particularly relished some of the 1880s death indexes, which they transcribed twice, in toto).

    But many of these discrepancies are transcription omissions. Which is why having two copies is so important – it’s extremely unlikely both sets commit the same errors. And having two sets is what also makes it possible to see the flaws in each. A salutary exercise, if a little hair-raising.

    I’ll be sweating both sets for all they’re worth, but only in full-body sceptic’s armour and supping with a long spoon.

    [The data used for this piece is at It would be great to see the whole record-set properly mapped like this.]

  • The Other Clare Roots

    April 15, 2015 @ 9:55 am | by John Grenham

    Local societies are the lifeblood of genealogy. The missionary (and occasionally messianic) zeal with which they transcribe, organise, publish, and educate helped to create the public demand that has driven many improvements in access to Irish records over recent years. They are also one of the strongest bastions of volunteering, doggedly non-commercial and steeped in the ethos of mutual self-help. In other words, very nice people, only some of whom are ex-hippies.

    The single most active local society in Ireland is probably Clare Roots (, based in Ennis. Just nine years old, it has a superb track record in organising conferences, digitising records and publishing – among its publications are already gravestone transcripts, mortuary cards, parish records, and (in collaboration with the hyper-energetic online local history section of Clare County Library – see a complete index to biographical notices in the Clare Champion 1935-1985.

    A good example of their sheer industry is the “’My People, My Place & My Heritage” project. This takes individual areas of Ennis town and brings together in a single book every conceivable record for the area: property records, school photographs, oral history, Urban District Council minutes, newspaper reports and much more. The end result restores and preserves entire lost dimensions of these places. So far, the project has published individual books on Summerhill, Abbey St, O’Connell Street, Steele’s Terrace and Cusack Road. The detail, and ambition, is astonishing.

    On a recent visit, the society asked me to help publicise their latest venture, a continuation of the Clare Champion transcription project over the earlier 33 years from 1903 to 1935. They need volunteers – see – and I couldn’t say no. Their chairman awed me into compliance by mentioning in passing that he now had more than 80,000 individuals in his family tree. I didn’t have the nerve to tell him about my own piddling 600.

    Note: the society shares a name, but little else, with the Corofin commercial genealogy centre. Yin and yang, so to speak.

  • The fine-scale genetic structure of the British population?

    April 7, 2015 @ 9:31 am | by John Grenham

    A recent study in Nature maps very fine regional variations in genetic make-up in the UK by applying more powerful statistical methods to whole-genome data originally acquired as part of a large-scale medical study (see for the full article).

    The results are very interesting indeed. Seventeen distinct groups emerged, each with an unambiguous regional connection. There is no single “Celtic” group. Rather, distinct clusters of common descent are clear across Cornwall and Devon, Western Scotland and (Northern) Ireland with, intriguingly, two very different groups appearing to populate North and South Wales. It’s even possible to make out a genetic reflection of the traditional link between the Fermanagh/ Tyrone area and the borders of England and Scotland.

    The statistical methods used are highly sophisticated and persuasive. Most persuasive of all is the fact that these geographical groupings emerged from a blind analysis, with no pre-sorting into the areas where the samples were taken. There is no doubt that studies like this will be highly important evidence for pre-historic migrations, though the caveat remains that any DNA study is a snapshot of the present. Inferences about past migrations can only ever be extrapolation, and the present is rarely an accurate guide to the past.

    Another reason for caution in this particular case is the size of the data. These consist of samples taken from just 2,039 individuals in the UK, statistically modelled against 6,209 individuals from across mainland Europe. However sophisticated the analysis, this sample population is so small that even a handful of genealogical outliers could well be skewing the results.

    And some place called “Eire” is excluded from the study, on the basis that that initial analysis provided too much evidence of shared Irish ancestry with the UK, because “Eire acts as a source and a sink for ancestry from the UK”, perhaps reflecting millennia of two-way migration. Or shared ancestral populations. Or maybe both: “Which severely complicates interpretation of estimated ancestry profiles.”

    Well, yes. Welcome to the severely complicated real world.

  • Healing the extended family

    March 30, 2015 @ 1:25 pm | by John Grenham

    One of the strongest drivers of genealogical research is the feeling of bringing back into the light individuals who have been forgotten or deliberately written out of official history. That sense of righting historic family wrongs is powerful and addictive.

    Here are two stories that will illustrate why.

    In one family, the 1911 census listed a 16-year-old son of the family who appeared nowhere in family stories. It turned out he had enlisted in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers in 1915, and somehow survived Ypres, gas attacks and three solid years on the Western Front. But the Ireland he came back to in 1919 had changed completely. His family, now staunch Republicans, refused to have anything to do with him and he moved to England, breaking off all contact. Three generations later, his English grandchildren were tracked down and reintroduced to the wider family.

    In another family, the only surviving photograph of one set of great-grandparents had a bizarre flaw. Where the great-grandmother’s face should have been, there was only a blank disk. Someone had very deliberately cut her from the picture. For years, the family wondered what it was she had done to deserve such obliteration. Then a genealogist sifting through a deceased second cousin’s attic for records of family history came across a locket and realized the photo it contained was the missing face.

    Far from trying to eradicate her memory, one of her children had taken the piece of the picture to remember her by. And now her face was restored to the photo and became visible for the first time to her descendants.

    Those of us who give genealogical advice sometimes joke that the job is equal parts genealogy and psychotherapy. But the healing provided by family restorations like these is genuine and serious.

  • Godzilla next door

    March 23, 2015 @ 10:44 am | by John Grenham

    When Godzilla moves in next door, some nervousness is understandable. So the recent news that is looking to employ professional genealogists in Dublin has caused some very reasonable twitchiness among Irish professionals. American big business has a long history of competing independent Mom-and-Pop outfits into the ground, assimilating them and replacing them with corporate replicants. Is that what’s going to happen to Irish genealogy?

    Having looked at the ads, and at the very high quality of the genealogists already employed by Ancestry, I don’t think so. Dublin is Ancestry’s international HQ, in charge of operations outside the US. So these Dublin-based researchers may well be in charge of German or Swedish or (how delicious) English research projects. It can only be a good thing if we have to lift our noses out of our own parish registers and see how genealogy works elsewhere. Though I can’t say I know many Irish genealogists with fluent Swedish.

    One other thing this news makes clear is that, like every other area of employment, professional genealogy is now undergoing dramatic change under the twin pressures of technology and the international marketplace. For years, genealogy seemed impossible to industrialise: once past the very early stages of any research project, the sheer bewildering variety of each family’s history made mass production unthinkable. And, it has to be said, many of us believed a nice little cottage industry in a quiet backwater was just the ticket.

    No longer. Any decent computer can now process those bewildering varieties of family history in the blink of an eye. And, as more and more amateur genealogists get their own access to digitised records, they feel (wrongly, but that’s a different issue) less need for professional assistance. High-quality, paid-for research is becoming a luxury, viable only with the kind of international marketing muscle a company like Ancestry can muster.

    If you’re interested, the closing date is next Friday. See

  • Why Irish online genealogy is so peculiar

    March 16, 2015 @ 9:38 pm | by John Grenham

    Researchers accustomed to the way online genealogy works elsewhere in the English-speaking world find the Irish situation strange. Elsewhere, records have usually been digitised by commercial concerns whose aim, naturally enough, is maximum profit for minimum investment. In the US, this has meant being trapped inside the monopoly, with records piled high and transcribed cheap. In Britain, the effective Ancestry/ duopoly provides a choice between two similar corrals.

    What makes Irish online genealogy so distinctive? Compared to the safe walled gardens of our overseas cousins, our records – what we have left – are all over the place: the National Archives, IrishGenealogy,, The Public Record Office of Northern Ireland, and many more.

    Faced with this situation, I’ve seen foreign (and Irish) researchers roll their eyes and mutter about Irish disorganisation and the inevitable civil war that besets every attempt at collective action in Ireland.
    But one other factor is common to most online Irish records: access is free and provided by public service institutions. Contemporary Ireland is a paragon of liberal capitalism, red in tooth and claw. Why should genealogy be such an exception?

    I think a large part of the reason lies in the Good Friday Agreement of 1998. The referendum that followed removed from the constitution the Republic’s territorial claim over Northern Ireland. Part of the text that replaced the claim was the declaration that “the Irish nation cherishes its special affinity with people of Irish ancestry living abroad who share its cultural identity and heritage”. Some people in the Irish public service actually took that seriously and, as the digital revolution dawned over the following decade, saw a very practical way to express that special affinity, by providing free and flexible online access to genealogical records.

    And they’re still doing it. The recent publication of an official diaspora policy ( explicitly embraces the upcoming digitisation of National Library Catholic parish microfilms: Three wholehearted cheers for officialdom.

    And a Happy Paddy’s Day to you, however special your affinity is.

  • Digging the line between them and us

    @ 9:34 pm | by John Grenham

    Digging for Britain is a greatest-hits archaeology compilation on BBC Two and the wonderful BBC Four. Each hour-long programme picks a selection of the most interesting excavations to take place over the past 12 months in each of four regions, three points of the compass over on the neighbouring island, and Northern Ireland. For the NI episode, the show is tactfully retitled Digging for Ireland.

    The first thing to be said is that looking in from the outside would make you weep. The sheer abundance of UK institutional and academic attention paid to archaeology is mind-blowing. The quality of the programmes and the long-term planning they have demanded is mind-blowing. The money devoted to both the archaeology and the programmes is mind-blowing. And the presenter, Prof Alice Roberts, is also . . . very good.

    But watching the last episodes, I noticed some strange pigeon-holing of the people whose remains were being dug up. The builders of the extraordinary 5,000-year- old ritual sites on Orkney, were “our ancestors”. Anglo-Saxon warrior graves hold “our forebears”. Queen Boudicca, though undoubtedly as Celtic as the Scottish Premiership , was somehow “one of us”.

    On the other hand, every mention of Romans, Vikings and Picts was preceded by “the”, casting them as outsiders or invaders who showed up for a few centuries and then buzzed off. This is very strange. Romans or Vikings are orders of magnitude more likely to have contributed genes to Prof Alice than 5,000-year-old Orcadians and there are plenty of non-Boudicaa Celts who are very unwelcome in the British national family tree.

    Where the line runs between “them” and “us” is always a political and cultural choice, but it is rarely as visible as in popular British archaeology. There is plenty of excellent Irish archaeology – have a look at or It would be nice if it got enough popular attention to allow us the luxury of seeing that line so clearly here.

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