Knocknashee ‘Hill of the Fairies’ is one of Ireland’s largest Bronze Age fortified hilltop forts stretching 700×320 meters across this table-top mountain plateau. Being one of Ireland’s seven most sacred hills ‘Knocknashee’ is a sacred site for Fairies & for those of us who worship or believe in them. Its name comes from the Irish words “knock” (cnoc) meaning “hill” and “shee” (Sidhe) meaning “fairy”. If there is anywhere in Ireland to possibly sight fairies, then this is your best location to explore.
It consists of 2 large stone cairns (tombs) which date back 5000 years & the remains of up to 60 circular stone houses dating back 3000 years old (zoom into this photo to see all these circular house remains) There is also a large stone wall surrounding the entire enclosure. It is rumoured that some people lived on top of this hill until relatively lately. The last of their houses were demolished on the ‘Night of the Big Wind’ of 1839, when a storm with wind speeds of around 115 mph ruined most of Ireland & literally blew those modern dwellings clean off this plateau top
Can you just imagine how it was possibly living inside one of these small stone huts on top of this mountain next to these tombs thousands of years ago! My brain wanders just trying to even understand it all? Some folk may easily laugh at the idea of Fairies & Spirits etc but one thing for sure….. Our ancestors were no fools & were very intelligent people. You can clearly see this by the stunning monuments they left behind that still have us gazing in awe today. They certainly didn’t go through this type of effort in construction, worship & ritual for thousands of years ‘simply on a whim’. There are more to these sacred areas that meets the eye & I hope that someday soon the answers will be revealed.
I wanted to research what the Province of Ulster was like just before the Plantation. This would give me an insight into the population density, economic activity and politics of the region the Scots-Irish were about to enter. I came across this wonderful article published around 8 years ago in History Ireland Magazine.
One of Ireland’s most important parliaments was held in Dublin in 1541. This declared Henry VIII to be ‘king of Ireland’ and made all Irishmen, whatever their origin, Gaelic or Norman, his subjects with equal rights under common law. It enacted the ‘surrender and regrant’ legislation and, while English was the official language, much of the proceedings was translated into Irish for the benefit of the many attendees who knew no English. Among them was the lord of Clandeboye, whose name we do not know. It is not unreasonable, however, to assume that this was Brian Faghartach, eldest son of Niall Óg (d. 1537), and he may also have participated in ‘surrender and regrant’ agreements in the early 1540s. Whether he did or not, in 1548 he was assassinated by Shane O’Neill, then a twenty-year-old about to make a name for himself in Ulster.
Over the next nineteen years Shane established himself as a supremo in Ulster and controlled Clandeboye as one of his urriaght (subsidiary) territories. This was not simple, as he had to cope with the Scots, incursions into his territory by forces from Dublin and the English garrison at Carrickfergus, which appears to have been completely re-Anglicised by the mid-1560s when controlled by William Piers. Piers established relationships with Owen McHugh in south Clandeboye and Brian McPhelim in north Clandeboye, both getting large sums for cooperation. It is likely that both became inter alia ‘intelligence agents’ on Piers’s behalf and perhaps had a role in the ultimate destruction of Shane O’Neill, both at Farsetmore (see HI 19.3, May/June 2011, pp 16–21), where Shane’s defeat cost him some 2,000 men, and ultimately at the hands of the McDonnells, who hacked him to death in 1567. Shane had become a major liability to the governments in both London and Dublin and Sir Henry Sidney, the lord deputy, took all necessary measures to get rid of him. During the fifteen-month period up to September 1567 Piers was paid £3,589 and Owen McHugh and Brian McPhelim £626, huge sums disbursed by the Dublin treasury. Brian McPhelim O’Neill was knighted, presumably for his role in helping to get rid of Shane, but a further consequence of the campaign was the destruction of the agricultural economy around Carrickfergus. According to Rowland White of Lecale, Co. Down, an Old English correspondent with the government, writing in 1569, before the English garrisoning of Carrickfergus (in the 1560s) there were 500 or 600 ploughlands under grain within ten miles of the town, but afterwards only five or six. This destruction was wrought by the soldiers of Carrickfergus. The results of the war against Shane were confirmed by the Dublin parliament of 1570, where he was attainted, his lands confiscated to the Crown and east Ulster divided into the shires of Antrim and Down. While Sir Brian McPhelim was still regarded as chief of Clandeboye, neither he nor any other Clandeboye got a title to their lands. This parliament also marked the de facto end of the medieval earldom of Ulster.
Failed colonisation schemes
While east Ulster was now pacified, the English in London attempted to benefit from it. Queen Elizabeth therefore approved colonisation plans for both north Down and the Ards on the one hand and all south Antrim on the other. Sir Thomas Smith, her former secretary of state, was awarded north Down and the Ards, while the earl of Essex was awarded the whole of County Antrim except for the Route and the Glynns (Glens), i.e the southern half of County Antrim. From the queen’s point of view, the most salient feature of both of these plans was that they were to be completely financed by the promoters and were ultimately to yield her an income for no investment on her part. These grants were made over the head of the lord deputy, Sidney. Both colonisation attempts failed through incompetence of different sorts. Sir Thomas Smith, underestimating what was involved, advertised in London for colonists to participate in his venture. When Sir Brian McPhelim O’Neill of Clandeboye heard of this, that—despite his fulsome cooperation in the war against Shane—his land was now to be taken from him and given to Smith, he immediately set about destroying any infrastructure that might be used by Smith to garrison troops. He therefore destroyed all the monastic buildings in north Down and the Ards, including those at Newtown (Ards), Bangor, Movilla, Comber and Grey Abbey. It is not clear whether this involved displacement of tenantry. These churls (labourers) were thought by the English to be cooperative, hard-working and productive if only they could rid themselves of their over-exploitative Gaelic landlords. The main promoter of the colony on the ground was Sir Thomas Smith’s son. The venture came to an end in 1573 when he was killed by one of his Irish servants, his body boiled and fed to dogs.
In the case of Essex, the earl appears to have been inveigled into the venture by those at court who wanted rid of him. He invested a large fortune, mortgaging thirteen of his English manors and getting a loan of £10,000 at 10% interest from the queen. His was a very bloody venture. During his time in Ireland many Scots were killed, the notorious massacre at Rathlin Island was perpetrated by Norris and Drake, and he destroyed much of north Clandeboye. According to himself, in a letter to the queen in July 1575, he ‘left all the county desolate and without people’. Neil McBrian’s ‘people [he had succeeded Sir Brian McPhelim] were few, his cattle less [and] his husbandmen were starved, dead or run out of the country’. Perhaps Essex’s worst atrocity occurred at the Christmas feast at Belfast in 1574 given by Sir Brian McPhelim, when Essex—according to himself, suspecting treachery—had all 200 participants, of whatever age or sex, killed. The Four Masters claim that this massacre was gratuitous murder without cause. Sir Brian himself, his wife and his brother Rory Óg were arrested, brought to Dublin and executed. Essex achieved nothing by his exploits in Antrim. In 1576 he fell ill of dysentery in Dublin, where he died. Sidney visited Ulster later that year. He claimed that Carrickfergus was much decayed and impoverished, the inhabitants fled, not about six householders of any countenance remaining, and Clandeboye was ‘utterly disinhabited’. Such were the results of the first attempts to colonise the new counties of Antrim and Down. The main English participants incurred great loss of money and some loss of life.
War amongst the Gaelic Irish
A period of relative peace followed in Clandeboye between the Irish and the English. This was not the case among the Irish themselves. In promoting Neill McBrian Ertagh, Essex ignored the claims of other contenders for the lordship. These included Sir Brian McPhelim’s son and brother as well as Con McNeill, Niall McBrian Ertagh’s uncle. A tentative division of the lordship was made in 1584 under the auspices of Lord Deputy Perrott. Con was to have south Clandeboye, while the north was to be divided between Shane, son of Sir Brian McPhelim, and Hugh Oge, son of his brother, also Hugh. This arrangement led to the killing of Hugh Oge in 1586. North Clandeboye was bitterly disputed between the sons of the brothers Sir Brian and Hugh McPhelim, causing ‘great dissension between them, and great slaughter often by both parties committed’. Eventually Shane was allotted the castle at Belfast and three parts of lower Clandeboye and followers, while Neill was allotted one quarter of the territory and followers and the castle at Edenduffcarrick on the shores of Lough Neagh. Henceforth Clandeboye would be held by the descendants of these two men. All these settlements were authorised by the English.These arrangements might have held if the English had been able to protect and defend them against the ambitions of Hugh O’Neill, earl of Tyrone. Because they couldn’t, O’Neill was able to establish his supremacy and during the Nine Years War sent his nephew, Brian MacArt, to organise and control Clandeboye military contingents to fight on his side. These were relatively small, perhaps because the Clandeboye population had not fully recovered from the devastation unleashed by Essex and Smith’s attemped plantations. No great battles were fought in Antrim and Down during this war. The war there consisted of small local engagements, none of which was decisive. To the English Clandeboye was more of a nuisance than a threat. This was to change once Sir Arthur Chichester was appointed governor of Carrickfergus. He determined to finish Clandeboye. He quickly overran north Clandeboye and got some of its Irish lords on the English side.
Famine and massacre as tactics of war
Chichester believed in famine as the main method of defeating the Gaelic Irish. Mountjoy agreed, and after the victory at Kinsale in 1601 both set about burning and killing in Ulster, destroying crops and animals as well as men, women and children without scruple. While Chichester is infamous for his trips across Lough Neagh, burning and killing, he confined most of his activities to Antrim and Down. This succeeded in destroying Clandeboye as a safe haven and a supply base for Tyrone. Apart from winning the war, Chichester had another and more personal motivation. Managing his estate and inheritances in Devon had left him virtually bankrupt and he saw the prospect of land confiscated in Ireland after the war as a means of restoring his fortunes. He coveted the lands of Clandeboye. To acquire these he took the Carrickfergus governorship with a hand-picked staff of English officers from backgrounds and circumstances similar to his own, second sons with limited if any prospects in England but who could make fortunes from land confiscated in Ulster.Chichester and his cohorts set about their task with a determined, ruthless mercilessness. Letters written by Chichester himself, confirmed by the accounts of Fynes Morrison, Mountjoy’s secretary, show what unremitting devastation was inflicted without compunction for age or sex. The standard histories of the period tell of cannibalism, corpses green-mouthed from eating grass, and dead bodies piled by the roadsides. There was so much killing of churls that even Mountjoy found the excesses distasteful. Chichester left lower Clandeboye, i.e. the southern half of modern County Antrim, utterly devastated and depopulated. North Down was not destroyed to the same extent. When its lord, Con O’Neill, saw that Tyrone’s cause was lost, he immediately surrendered to the queen and was confirmed in his lands as an encouragement to others to do likewise. He returned to Castlereagh to find most of his lands, though not all, devastated like those of Antrim but was able to save what remained of his tenantry from further burning and slaughter by Chichester’s flying columns.
Dividing the spoils
Once the war was over it was time to divide the spoils. Inquisitions were held in 1605 in Antrim and Down to assess exactly what was available for distribution among the victors. The Antrim inquisition found, according to Belfast antiquarian F.J. Bigger: ‘… in lower Clanaboy [sic] there were twenty-one sub-territories containing vast tracts of the finest lands in Ulster, and inhabited by a very numerous population, but Chichester left it desolate’. These lands were distributed among Chichester and his followers, although the remaining few loyal Gaelic nobles got generous estates. The story of Con O’Neill and how he lost two thirds of his estates to Hamilton and Montgomery in upper Clandeboye (north Down) is well known. These latter expelled their remaining Gaelic tenants to the Dufferin barony.Scottish immigrants began arriving at Donaghadee from May 1606 to take up new tenancies first in Down and later in Antrim. They found no resistance. There was nobody left to offer it. By now James VI of Scotland had become James I of England. Thus started the peopling of these parts with inhabitants who then and subsequently were to be described as ‘British’. HI Tom Murphy is a retired internal auditor. Article based on his MA thesis, ‘Clandeboye: its rise and decline c. 1350–1606’.
“Many parts of Ireland are surprisingly sparsely populated. Although once you arrive on this little peninsula in west Donegal, all becomes as evident as the nose on your face. It isn’t unusual to find a single cottage surrounded by 10 acres of land or more & there are more sheep on these slopes than there are inhabitants. I can’t help but envy & wish health to whoever lives in this stunning little cottage, happily & safely away from it all until this storm has passed…..
At first glimpse this photo may appear peaceful. Although if you can gauge from those nearing clouds in the distance, this was not quite the case. During the tail end of a recent storm that struck our shores, I remember fighting winds to stand in one spot long enough to capture this scene! Overhead clouds were blowing across the sky so fast allowing patches of stunning light to break through momentarily, followed by deep shadows that blanketed the entire landscape.
Cold & continually wiping rain off my lens every few seconds, I waited in hope for another opening to allow some light through to illuminate this little cottage. Not a moment too soon! The light vibrantly shone down & I pressed the shutter button one last time. Within seconds the light dwindled & heavy showers pelted down on me! I ran back to my car like a soaked squirrel with a nut! I loved every moment “
Leave your comments below. More of Gareth’s wonderful & inspiring work can be found on his website at: https://garethwray.com/
Inez McCormack (1943-2013) was a Irish trade union leader and human rights activist. Born Inez Murphy into an Ulster Protestant family in Cultra, County Down, she once recalled; “recalled: “I was a puzzled young Prod – until I was 17 I hadn’t knowingly met a Catholic. I was a young Protestant girl who didn’t understand that there were grave issues of inequality, injustice and division in our society.”
“Calls To Distant Places” is set in Belfast, Ireland. Peter Jordan is an Irish short story writer who spends his time between Belfast & Donegal. His latest collection of short stories, also titled “Calls To Distant Places” was recently published in Ireland. He has won the Bare Fiction prize, placed second in the Fish, and was shortlisted for the both the Bridport & Bath Short Fiction and Flash Fiction prizes.
Peter has kindly agreed to share another story with our American readers to help us all get through the Coronavirus lockdown. Please leave your thoughts in the comment section below. Enjoy.
Calls To Distant Places
It was two in the morning. When I got out of the taxi I saw my neighbor Joe across
the street standing at his front gate. I hadn’t spoken to him in months. His wife had
cancer and my wife had just had a baby.
– Hi Joe, I said.
He motioned to me.
– What’s up? I said.
– It’s Bruno.
Bruno was Joe’s Golden Retriever.
– I came downstairs for a cigarette, it must have been his heart, he’s been on
I didn’t know what to say.
– I need to get him in the boot of the car. I don’t want Grace to see him. She’s
been through enough already.
We walked together up the slope of the driveway to the house. He opened the
car boot and lifted out his fishing gear. There was a chill and I could see my own
Joe came out of the garage with black bin liners and arranged them carefully
along the bottom of the boot. When he had finished, I followed him into the house. I
hadn’t been in the house since last summer. When we walked inside, I could smell
synthetic air freshener.
In the living room, the dog was lying on a throw on the sofa.
Joe had really let the place go: on one of the seats, beside the television, was
a pile of old magazines and newspapers. There were ashes and white tissues in the
grate and on the hearth.
Joe got on his knees and cradled Bruno’s head and I tried to lift his hind legs.
He was still warm. Then Joe said: Wait. And he placed the throw over him, and we
lifted him off the sofa in that manner. We carried him carefully through each doorway
to the outside and placed him in the boot of the car. Then Joe bent down and kissed
him on the forehead before finally closing the boot. I patted Joe on the shoulder and
we both went back inside.
In the kitchen he reached up above the grill, opened a cupboard and took out
a bottle of Jameson.
Then he nodded towards the sink. Help yourself to a glass, he said.
As I walked towards the sink, I kicked a bowl of dried dog food. It was half
empty. And I cursed.
– Sorry about the mess, said Joe.
I lifted a glass and rinsed it under the hot tap, running my fingers inside and
along the rim to clean it.
I’d been drinking beer all night and I wasn’t ready for the whiskey. It tasted
earthy. It would take a bit of getting used to. I patted my pockets for my cigarettes,
stood up and offered one to Joe.
– I’m just going to check on Grace, he said. I’m not smoking in the house
I heard his weight on the stairs as I patted every pocket for my lighter. When I
found it, I stepped outside on to the patio. The intruder light came on immediately.
I remembered last summer. We had only just moved in. Joe had called at the
door to introduce himself. He had caught two sea trout: a cock and a hen. The male
fish was around four pounds, the female a pound lighter.
He brought me over a generous cut from each fish. My wife, Anna, said she
couldn’t eat them after having just seen them whole. I wrapped them in tinfoil and
cooked them in the oven with just a little olive oil, salt and pepper. They didn’t taste
like farmed fish. These fish, you could taste the river in them.
Anna said we should invite Joe and Grace over for a drink. They both came
over with wine and beer. And, when the sun moved behind our house, we all carried
our drinks across the street to Joe and Grace’s. I remembered Grace carrying her
sandals in one hand and a wine glass in the other.
They were both older than us by twenty years but there was a bond. Grace
really hit it off with Anna. I think in many ways they were very similar — they had a
lot in common.
Joe had said he would take me fly-fishing He gave me a cork-handled
beginner’s rod, showed me how to cast. I had been practicing with that rod; casting
from my patio until I could land the fly on my compost bin. The fishing season had
come and gone — I’d paid £120 for a fishing license — and I hadn’t got to fish.
Joe stepped outside. The intruder light came back on.
– She’s sleeping, he said.
I offered him a cigarette and he accepted. Stood there in a white short-
sleeved shirt he didn’t seem to notice the cold.
– How’s Anna?
– She’s good, I said. Anna’s good.
– And the baby?
– The baby’s good.
– A good sleeper?
I nodded. The truth is I was sleeping in the spare room. I felt like Anna and I
were drifting apart since the baby had come along.
– My son left before you moved in, said Joe. He’s an accountant, lives in
He drained the glass.
– I might visit when things settle down here.
He went back inside for the bottle and, when he came back outside, he asked:
Have you changed a nappy yet?
– Not yet, I said.
– I never changed a single nappy. Grace did it all.
Then he drained the glass, looked up at the sky.
– It’s my turn now, he said.
I lifted the glass, but I didn’t drink from it.
– Joe, I said. I gotta go.
I offered him my hand. He shook it.
– Tell Anna I said hello, he said, and say hi to the baby.
Then he walked me through the house. On the front porch he hugged me, and
he didn’t let go.
– I’m sorry about the fishing, he said.
“Who Won the Donkey Derby?” by Peter Jordan. Peter is an Irish short story writer who spends his time between Belfast & Donegal. His latest collection of short stories titled “Calls To Distant Places” was recently published in Ireland. He has won the Bare Fiction prize, placed second in the Fish, and was shortlisted for the both the Bridport & Bath Short Fiction and Flash Fiction prizes.
He has kindly agreed to share a tale with readers in the US to help us all get through the Coronavirus lockdown. “Who Won the Donkey Derby” is set in Donegal in Ireland’s north west. Leave your review in the comment section below. Enjoy.
Who won the Donkey Derby?
I open the door of the bar and stop momentarily to allow my eyes to adjust to the change in light. There are only two small windows, and they’re low set, so that even early in the day it’s dim inside.
Biddy Barr, the owner, sits behind the counter on a stool. The bar was once the living room and back room of her family house.
There’s only one other punter. He sits on a stool at the far end of the counter; his back to the television and the fire, with two pints of Smithwick’s in front of him.
It’s early. Already, he looks drunk.
– Who won the Donkey Derby? he says, to no one in particular.
The small red tractor outside, with the hand-painted number plate and the cushion inside the plastic Centra carrier bag on the seat, is his.
His name’s Magill, Ger Magill.
He drives that small red tractor into town like you’d take your car, and he owns farmland up at Quigley’s Point. But he doesn’t farm the land — something happened to him when he was a child. He drinks.
Biddy gets up off her stool.
– A pint of Heineken, is it?
– Yes, please.
I lean forward and watch her pouring. As I lean over the counter, I can see into the kitchen. It’s like the kitchen of any house in the town. There’s a combined food and water bowl for her cat on the linoleum floor.
– Who won the Donkey Derby? says Ger Magill.
– What’s it like out? asks Biddy.
I have to think. I look down at the counter.
– It’s dry, I say, finally.
She raises her chin.
– That’s a blessing.
Biddy isn’t one for conversation. She isn’t one for anything really, but there are no snide remarks if you suddenly show up after months spent drinking up the town.
I take a gulp of Heineken and pull a face.
– Do ya want a wee splash of lemonade?
I blow out. And nod.
Biddy unscrews the lid on a glass bottle of brown lemonade that sits in amongst the other glass bottles of cordial on a circular tray. And she pours a splash of brown lemonade into what remains of the white head of the Heineken.
It goes down a bit easier with the hint of lemonade. I finish it quickly. Then I let out a sigh.
Biddy takes the empty glass from my hand and angles it under the pump. With Biddy you only have to tip your empty glass forward and she’ll rise from her stool, take the glass from your hand, and refill it.
– Who won the Donkey Derby? says Ger Magill.
I stare in his direction, then at the television behind him, but I can’t decipher a thing.
When Biddy sets the second pint in front of me it looks much better than the first.
– D’ya want another wee splash of lemonade?
– No thanks, I’ll just go with it.
– Right you are.
This one goes down easier.
When I’m on my third pint, Ger Magill gets up off his stool and walks slowly, in a stoop, from the far end of the bar to where I’m sitting.
He looks directly at me.
– D’ya hear me… who won the Donkey Derby?
I don’t know the man. I mean, I know of him. I know his father was a drunk, and a mean bastard. And I’ve been stuck behind that red tractor often enough.
I nearly called this blog post “Who were the Scots-Irish?” But “were” is past tense, and the Scots-Irish of America are not a historical footnote, they live and breathe here in the United States today. The problem is, many are simply not aware of their Scots-Irish roots.
Scottish Lowland Roots:
The Scots-Irish began their journey to America from the Lowlands of Scotland. The Scottish Lowlands is an area from the Clyde in the East across to the Firth of Forth in the West, and everything south, all the way to the English border. The Scots-Irish are primarily, but not exclusively, Presbyterian. They first arrived in Ulster (in the Northern part of Ireland) in 1604. They lived in Ireland for approximately 100 years before the beginning of the Great Migration to the American Colonies in 1718. That is not to say all the Scots-Irish migrated “en masse” to North America. To the contrary there are approximately 800,000 Protestants still resident in Ulster, many of whom are Scots-Irish Presbyterians, while others are of English, Welsh or even French Huguenot heritage. At this point I would like to note that the Scots-Irish living in Ulster today use the term “Ulster-Scots” rather than Scots-Irish. As the term Scots-Irish is used exclusively in America, and as we are in the United States, I will use the term Scots-Irish in this blog.
There were three waves of Scottish migration to Ireland in the early part of the 17th Century. The first Scottish settlement came in 1604 to 1605. Influential Irish landowner Randal MacDonnell, in a deal with King James 6th of Scotland (who also became King James the 1st of England), was granted extensive additional land in North Antrim. This land grant of “The Route” was agreed providing Randal MacDonnell settled the new lands with Scottish Protestants. An agreement was made which may have increased MacDonnell’s holdings in the area up to 300,000 acres. This deal was unusual at the time as Randall MacDonnell was a Catholic, there was even a chapel in his residence at Dunluce Castle. However, MacDonnell acquired the land and therefore more wealth, while James (now King of both Scotland and England) increased the Protestant population of Ulster, Protestants being considered more loyal to the crown than the native Irish. So both these powerful men were happy with the arrangement and the ensuing plantation.
The 2nd wave came came in 1606 with Hugh Montgomery and James Hamilton. This was a private undertaking by these two prominent Scottish Landowners, whereby they acquired two thirds of the land of native Irish Chieftan Conn O’Neill. This acquisition seems a little opportunistic, if not downright deceitful. But more on this little piece of intrigue in another post. Having acquired the land of Conn O’Neill, Montgomery and Hamilton sent over tenants from their estates in the Scottish Lowlands, places such as Dumfries & Galloway & Ayrshire. They settled primarily the North Down area of Ireland, areas such as Comber, Bangor, Donaghadee, Newtownards and further along the Ards Peninsula. It is thought between 1604 to 1607 around 10,000 Scots migrated to Ulster as part of the MacDonnell, Montgomery & Hamilton enterprises. It is thought the success of these first two plantations influenced King James in his subsequent decision to grant the Charter for the 1607 Jamestown Settlement in Virginia.
Thirdly came the official plantation. King James was enthused by the success of the two previous enterprises, but in 1607 a major event also took place, the Flight of the Earls. This happened in Sept 1607 when the Irish nobility fled from Rathmullan on Lough Foyle to Continental Europe in an attempt to evade persecution, and rally Catholic support for their cause. By 1608 King James of England took the opportunity to seize the large landholdings of these native Irish Cheiftans and settle them with Protestant subjects. The official Plantation of Ulster had begun. Initially King James wanted the Plantation to be available to both English & Scottish Protestant subjects, but for a variety of reasons the Scottish Presbyterians were the great majority of settlers.
The Scots-Irish remained in Ireland for generations, approximately 100 years. They made a living from farming and trading in the growing towns such as Derry / Londonderry and Belfast. They lived through the Irish rising of 1641, the Siege of Derry in 1689 and the Battles of the Boyne, Aughrim and Limerick from 1690 to 1691. They brought with them to Ireland many Scottish customs, speech patterns, architecture etc. But they also adopted many Irish traits during their long soujourn in the Emerald Isle. By 1718 they began to migrate to the New World.
This migration began in earnest in 1718. The Scots-Irish who came to America were almost entirely Presbyterian. At the time in Ireland they were considered “Dissenters”. This meant they were not congregants of the Established Church of England (in Ireland known as the Church of Ireland), with the English monarch as head. Also, because of their “dissenter” status, some of the harsh Penal Laws designed primarily for the native Irish Catholics also applied to the Presbyterians. For example, the Penal Laws meant the Scots-Irish could not be elected to public office & therefore could not effect the laws by which they were governed. They also had to pay “tithes” (taxes) to the Established Church even though they did not worship there. These “tithes” would have been used to pay for the upkeep of the Established Church and not their own Presbyterian churches & preachers. Both the Presbyterians and the Catholics greatly resented this law. In addition, economic circumstances caused rents to rise rapidly during this period while incomes fell. Here I examine in more depth these reasons “Why the Scots-Irish Came to America”. But for now, suffice to say, between 1718 and 1770 there took place a Great Migration of Scots-Irish to the American Colonies. On the eve of the American Revolution in 1775, more than 250,000 Scots-Irish called the New World home. It is said that “one in six” of the Colonists were Scots-Irish.
Their significant role in the ensuing American Revolution cannot be overstated. Indeed, King George of England referred to it as the American Revolution as the “Presbyterian Rebellion”. The Scots-Irish experience at the hands of the English in Ireland was fresh in their minds, stories handed down from father to sons and daughters. By way of example, President Andrew Jackson’s parents had a farm just outside Carrickfergus in Ulster. The family sailed for America around 1765. Andrew Jackson and his two older brothers all fought in the Revolution. Taxation without representation was not going to wash in the New World; the Scots-Irish were angry and would fight for their rights.
The influence of 34.6 million Irish-Americans is felt everyday through every aspect of American life and culture. “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”. JFK. Happy St.Patrick’s Day to all our wonderful customers; could not do it without you.