The sadness of saying goodbye

Ireland exhibit recalls the era of emigration

Author: By Richard P. Carpenter, Globe Staff

Date: SUNDAY, October 12, 1997

Page: M9

Section: Travel

But what choice did so many of Ireland's poor have? Their subsistence was tied to the farming and eating of potatoes grown on land owned by strangers. And in 1845, a catastrophic blight struck potato crops all over Ireland -- a blight that for five years would bring starvation, disease, and death. An Gorta Mor -- The Great Hunger -- would also bring massive emigration to North America.

The story of these emigrants, and those who followed in later years, is movingly told in pictures, sounds, words, and artifacts at ``Cobh, The Queenstown Story,'' a permanent exhibition at the restored, and splendidly Victorian, Cobh Railway Station in County Cork. And because Cobh was Ireland's main trans-Atlantic port from the 1800s to the 1950s, the exhibition also tells of other sailings, including those of convict ships to Australia and that of the visiting Titanic.

But the most gripping exhibits concern the Irish emigration to North America. Shortly after entering, you hear the howl of winds and the lashing sounds of rough seas. Emigration ships are shown in models and on film, and you learn about the overcrowded ``coffin ships,'' in which many emigrants drowned, others died aboard ship, and others arrived in North America weakened beyond recovery.

For many, the fear of a watery grave was strong during the four- to six-week voyages. Rations were short and seas were often rough, as a statue of seasick passengers testifies. Yet even under such circumstances, the indomitability of the human spirit shone through. Words from diaries are flashed on a screen, telling how four members of the crew and four passengers formed a musical group. A woman named Bridget reports that there was some courting aboard, ``but in a nice way.''

The emigration hardly ended when the potato blight did. Seeking greater opportunity, more than 2.5 million adults and children left Ireland via Cobh from 1845 to 1960, first on the coffin ships, then on steamers, and finally on ocean liners. They came not only to Ellis Island in New York, but also to Gross Isle near Quebec and settled in British North America, most of which would soon become Canada. That emigration peaked in 1848, and, looking at the photos and illustrations, I couldn't help but ponder how such sailings brought some of my paternal ancestors to Newfoundland, then, two or three generations later, to the United States. As Ireland's former president, Mary Robinson, said at the dedication of the Irish Famine Memorial in Cambridge, Mass., ``We are the survivors of the survivors.''

Exhibits tell of parties held to say farewell to the departing ones -- parties also known as ``American wakes'' because, despite vows to return to Ireland some day, there was a realization that most never would, and many tears were shed by those left waiting at the quay. For many of those who stayed behind, letters sent by their newly American relatives (often with money enclosed) would be all that remained of the relationship.

Life was hard in America for the early immigrants, but as a group, the American Irish eventually succeeded wildly. A chart is studded with names of famous Americans of Irish descent, from Jimmy Cagney to John F. Kennedy. Today, some 44 million Americans can claim Irish ancestry.

Other exhibits tell of ``free'' trips to Australia for Irish convicts, many of them political prisoners. Those sailings began in 1791, and, later, free emigration to Australia was offered to other Irish residents as well.

Cobh, too, is linked to two of history's most famous ships. It was the last port of call for the Titanic, of which it was said, ``God himself could not sink this ship.'' All it took, though, was an iceberg in 1912, with the loss of 1,517 passengers. Among artifacts on display: a mailbag, whose letters suddenly lost much of their importance.

And then there was the Lusitania, the British-registered ship that was sunk by a German U-boat off the Irish coast in 1915, killing more than 1,000 persons, 114 of them American, and preparing the way for US entry into World War I. Slides show crowds cheering as the ship sets off, and newspaper headlines tell of the tragedy that followed. You pick up an old-fashioned telephone and hear recorded voices of older Cobh residents reminiscing: ``Oh, it was sad, you know. . . . I could see the bodies on the stretchers.''

Fascinating facts are sprinkled throughout the exhibition. For instance, you learn why Cobh is ``The Town with Three Names.' Originally, it was called Cove, which has a nautical ring to it. Then in 1849, Queen Victoria stepped ashore, and the town was renamed Queenstown in honor of that visit. But Ireland didn't overly relish keeping the title of a British monarch, so eventually the original name was restored, but with the Gaelic spelling of Cobh. (The pronunciation remains as ``Cove,'' however.) You learn also that up to 300 naval and commercial ships at a time could be seen at anchor off Cobh during the Napoleonic Wars, 1803-1815.

But what will likely linger in your mind long after your visit is the story of the Irish emigrants. A visit to ``Cobh, the Queenstown Story'' will help you to understand why there are so many sad songs about leaving Ireland.

There is daily rail service from Cork to ``The Queenstown Story'' via Fota Island Wildlife Park. The exhibition has full-service restaurants as well as a Blarney Woollen Mills Gift Shop.

For information about Ireland, call the Irish Tourist Board at (212) 418-0800. Or write to the board 757 Third Ave., New York, NY 10017. For direct inquiries, call the Cobh Heritage Centre at 353-21-813595/813591.