| Title: | Coogan, Matthew Sr to Coogan, Patrick, 1854 |
|---|---|
| ID | 6313 |
| Collection | Carlow-Coogan Letters |
| File | coogan/2 |
| Year | 1854 |
| Sender | Coogan, Matthew Sr |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | carpenter/shoemaker |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Ballyloughan, Co.Carlow, Ireland |
| Destination | Harlem, NYC, USA |
| Recipient | Coogan, Patrick |
| Recipient Gender | male |
| Relationship | father-son |
| Source | |
| Archive | |
| Doc. No. | |
| Date | |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | |
| Log | unknown |
| Word Count | 1114 |
| Genre | failed potato crops, local economy, politics, request for assistance, wedding, unemployment |
| Note | |
| Transcript | Ballyloughan April 13, 1851 My dear Pat, It is with feelings of sorrow I am now writing. But yet a gleam of joy must hover round when I hope these my lines will find you and my children in America to enjoy good health, which is a blessing I wish you and them to enjoy. My dear Pat, you must consider my feelings at this time strange when so strong an emotion can confuse them as joy and sorrow, but you will agree with me in opinion when you will hear of my present situation. Fortune seems at present to frown on my industry. But it gives me some consolation when I find in this calamity no personal enmity, for many, thrice many in Ireland in this year is similarly circumstanced. Our potatoes in this season have been more damaged than ever I experienced in any former year. I had a very fair sowing in this year. But alas, all is gone. I am not at this moment possessed of one barrel, leaving one to encounter a heavy task from this forward. Prices is very high. Wheat is 45 shillings per barrel and so in proportion every other grain, Indian meal 14 shillings per barrel, oatmeal 18. The farmers here is all right but the tradesmen is poorly circumstanced. So you must consider my family to be poorly prepared for this as they are not able to labour and tend. We have naught [?] Well this is not all, but now our government has passed a militia bill and has called on Ireland to supply them with 30,000 men as volunteers, I suppose to convey them the next war to the Crimea where, to use the words of General Menchicof, there is burial ground a-plenty for every English and Frenchman which pays their [?] Well [?] this number cannot be found to volunteer. Next comes a bullet and then must I see my dear and hard-earned children swept from my sight to be conveyed to this English or Russian slaughter yard. O may God in his mercy take me out of this life before I shall witness this scene. You have promised to bring me to America, and when James was with you, I then did think all was right. But now I fear all is over. But if my dear little children was safe, anything occurring to me would give me little trouble now. My dear Pat, I hope you will see Biddy and Mary and if the delay would not be long write to James and as my means is at present very limited send me some assistance as soon as you can, for I never before was frightened for my labour is not at all equal to my task. I am surprised to think that Biddy should neglect her child for how she can be so ungrateful never to send the piece of a loaf to her since she landed in America as if I was not already encumbered with a heavy family, and as for Mary I never once heard from her these three years. If this be Irish gratitude I could wish myself a Frenchman. I am informed you and Mary has got married. If so I am quite pleased but think it compliment little enough to hear this from you and her and let me know some of the particulars and whom you joined. I hope you are forward with your house at present, and as you promise to have me with you I am quite desirous to know the particular time and if the delay is long. Sure you will not neglect Hugh and Catherine if you were to leave me to encounter the billeting storm for a few months longer. I will expect your letter as quick as possible and let me know how you will manage this request I make as a delay in any form may be attended with very bad effect and do not neglect calling on Biddy and Mary and send me what ever they can, little or much, as I will be obliged to sell my cow if you neglect me on this point. But if my children could be employed all would be right, but at present we are rather going [?] for the calls [?] of accursed Ireland. I have been in Carlow on yesterday paying the rent, but when in conversation with Mr. Bolton? Butler?, he enquired when I last heard from my children. I had your last letter in my pocket and showed it to him. He said if I was to go to you he will speak to Mr. Brien and get me out if I give up the place to him without injury. So under this circumstance I might not be very heavy on you. But by you paying the passage for the family I will be able to defray the rest of the expense, but I must be on the road ere this will be given. I did expect to go this month and was making a preparation. I had three very fine pigs but the sickness becoming prevailing in the neighborhood, I lost two of them and also I paid George Parker 2 lb. in hand last May for potato ground. Well I declare I never had one barrel in that. So you see this year leaned very heavy on me. I never bought one shilling worth of clothes for myself since James went. Neither do I expect for some time to now. You may judge how it is. Tell Larry Meany what I say to you and I think if he is not generous, at all events he will be just. I hope he will consider his child. For the present I will say no more. Now my dear Patt let me have your earliest reply as I will be hourly on the lookout, and in your letter to James let him know I deserve better of him than to say he never wrote me one line but left me beholding to Edward Byrne of Currenree for his information. Well Providence will do for us all. I fear I have annoyed you too much for the present. But your mother, brothers, and sisters join me in love to you and all my children in America. Adieu for the present. I am, my dear child, your loving father, Mathew Coogan P.S. I must tell you that Peggy buried her youngest son. My dear Pat, also I must tell you the fellowship is gone from the Irish heart. Your nearest friend if he foresaw any distress would desert you if it was your son-in-law. |
