What was life in Ireland like for my ancestor? Why Did they Choose to Leave?

Céad Míle Fáilte – and welcome to your Letter from Ireland. Life in Ireland is showing its gentler side, with lovely days of sunshine and cool weather across the first week of February here in County Cork. How are things in your part of the world today?

I’m sipping on a cup of Maher’s coffee as I write, and I hope you’ll join me with whatever you fancy as we start into today’s letter.

Today, I want to share a fascinating conversation I recently had with one of our Green Room members, Colleen, about her family’s roots in County Limerick. I share the conversation below and I hope it illustrates how piecing together historical records, local knowledge, and understanding of the times can bring our ancestors’ lives into vivid focus – including why they might choose to leave Ireland even if things were apparently not so bad.

What was life in Ireland like for my ancestor? Why Did they Choose to Leave?

In the 1850s, Colleen’s great-great-grandfather made the momentous decision to leave his 80-acre leasehold near Askeaton – prime limestone farming land – and start anew in Detroit, Michigan, USA. This story weaves together many threads familiar to Irish emigrant tales: the aftermath of the Great Hunger, the lure of land ownership in America, and the complex system of tenant farming that shaped rural Ireland.

But what makes this story particularly special is how it captures the dramatic contrast between a young boy’s life on an Irish farm – carrying water from the well, helping with the harvest, and living by candlelight – and his later experiences clearing virgin forest in Detroit. It’s a reminder of the extraordinary adaptability of our ancestors and the courage it took to build new lives across the ocean.

Let’s dive into her story…

Colleen: Thanks for all of your advice.  However I find that is hard for me to understand what Ireland was really like at the time of my ancestors. My great grandfather helped his father to clear and farm land in near Detroit. I have articles on the type of equipment they used, what an 8 year old boy probably did on the farm, how many years it would take to clear the land of trees, etc.  

I would like to know more about his young life in Ireland. His father leased 80 acres of land outside Askeaton. The farm land must have been good by looking at Griffith’s Valuation of the 1850s – and also because the same people they left it to are still there farming the same land.

Mike: You know, Colleen, when we look at life in Ireland during this period, your family’s connection to Askeaton tells us something interesting, that 80-acre leasehold your great-great-grandfather had was quite substantial for the time. Also, the limestone soil there is some of the best in Limerick – perfect for both grazing and tillage farming.

Colleen: That’s fascinating, Mike. So what would daily life in Ireland have been like for my great-grandfather as an 8-year-old boy there? It must have been so different from his later life clearing land in Detroit.

Mike: Ah, now there’s a story worth telling! He may have had some schooling during his time, but mostly your young great-grandfather’s days would have followed the daily and monthly rhythms of the farming calendar.

Picture him driving cattle to pasture in the morning, gathering eggs from the hens, and helping with the oat and barley harvest when the time came. One of his daily (many times a day) tasks would’ve been carrying water from the well – there was no indoor plumbing in those days!

Colleen: Did they have to cut their own turf for heating and cooking? What about lighting in the evenings?

Mike: Most families either cut their own turf from the bog or bartered for it. Your ancestors probably used rush lights – rushes dipped in animal fat – and tallow candles for light. The hearth would have been the heart of the home, providing both warmth and light. Much different from the oil lamps they’d later use in Detroit!

Colleen: OK. But what still puzzles me is why they decided to leave life in Ireland in 1854. They’d survived the Famine, had a good piece of land… why risk everything with five children in tow?

Mike: You know, life in Ireland at that time was complex – it wasn’t just one thing. For example, a cholera epidemic in 1853-54 had everyone scared, and word may have come from your great-great-grandfather’s brother in Canada about the possibility of owning land outright. They might also have felt that a Great Hunger could have returned at any time. However, a big part of the motivation to leave was certainly word coming back from family and neighbours who had made the move.

Colleen: Did they just walk away from the land lease then?

Mike: Not likely! In those days, there was a practice called “tenant right” – technically illegal but widely accepted. They probably sold their interest in the improvements they’d made to the land along with the lease. That often explains why you see the same family still farming a piece of land today that they held as tenants in the 1800s. These aspects of life in Ireland – the complex relationship with land, the community practices, the unwritten rules – they all shaped our ancestors’ experiences.

Colleen: Sometimes I wish I had a time machine, Mike. I’d love to sit down with my great-great-grandmother – imagine the stories she could tell about raising 11 children and living to 86!

Mike: Sure wouldn’t it be grand to hear how your great-great-grandfather compared life in Ireland to building a new world across the ocean? But you know what? Through available records and understanding the history of the time, we’re getting real glimpses into their world and their thinking at the time. Every connected document tells us a bit more about their story – and every conversation like ours stokes our curiosity and imaginations to find out even more.

I look forward to your sharing your discoveries and continuing the conversation as we go forward.

That’s it for this week. How about the rest of our readers? Do feel free to share your own family stories or questions in the comments below.

Slán for now,
Mike