Adventures in Ireland: A Reflection on Heritage

     

Newgrange Neolithic Site, Ireland dated to 3,200 BCE.  Built by Stone Age farmers.  It is often called a passage tomb, but it is believed to have been temple.  It is aligned to the rising sun of the winter solstice.  During 6 days over the winter solstice, sunlight streams in through the passage down to the center chamber.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

Newgrange Neolithic Site, Ireland. Photo by April Lynn Downey.

   In ancient Norse society, Norsemen were only considered Vikings when they went on an adventure far enough from home that it required more than one shift at the ores. These adventures were called Viks. Once a Viking returned home again, they were no longer Vikings, but regular Norse farmers, craftsmen, and the like.

     After my child, Kason, and I flew across the Atlantic from Maryland to Ireland, we drove across the country and back again, nearly 800 miles. I could have used a second shift ‘at the ores’, but alas, Kason being not quite yet 14, I navigated alone. It was quite an adventure, full of peril and anxiety (oh my, the roads!), beauty and wonders. We saw castles and rivers, mountains and seasides, and a people whose cheeks flushed on chilly days the same way my beautiful, blue eyed child’s did.  Kason seemed at home in every way and loved the cool air and clouded sun. On the blustery, misty beach of Dunbur Lower, Kason said they could stay there forever.

Dunbur Lower in Ireland, on the coast of Muir Eireann.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

Blarney Castle, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

    Our adventure was exhilarating, but I cannot seem to go anywhere without being plagued by insatiable curiosity and a touch of existential, pensive overthinking. Amidst the great castles and fortresses and ballooning stone arches of the cathedrals, we learned about the long history of invasion and oppression the Irish people had endured. For hundreds of years, the Irish were bombarded with invaders from England, Scandinavia, and northern continental Europe. These invaders not only conquered the Irish but also fought amongst themselves on the lush Irish landscape.

     On our second to last day in Ireland, we drove from Limerick to Doolin on the western coast and boarded a ferry. We crossed 6 miles of the northern Atlantic to Inis Oirr (or, Inisheer), the smallest of the Aran Islands. The rainy day grew stormy, making our exploration of the island wet, cold, and shorter than we originally planned, but it was still a fantastic journey. We hired a driver to take us to the ancient sites around the island. He explained to us that the stone walls that made the grid-like pattern across the island were created hundreds of years ago. When people first settled on the island, there was no soil and the island was almost entirely rock. They used the loose rocks to create the walls and then donkeys would bring up sand and seaweed from the beaches to create 4-5” of growing medium on the bedrock. This shallow “soil” was just enough to grow grass for the farm animals. On a hill above the man-made pastures, the 14th century O’Brien’s Castle (Caisleán Uí Bhríain) loomed over the island, once a stronghold of the O’Brien clan who was hired by Galway to help keep pirates from sacking the shipping routes. St. Cavan’s Church (Teampall Caomhán), believed to be from about the 10th century, appears to be slowly sinking into the ground from centuries of windswept sand piling up around it.

The rock walled pastures of Inis Oirr, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

O’Brien’s Castle (Caisleán Uí Bhríain) on Inis Oirr, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

10th Century St. Cavan’s Church (Teampall Caomhán) on Inis Oirr, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

    When our tour of the ancient ruins was complete, we hunkered down with the rest of the wet tourists in the pub and had pork chops with peppered gravy. My Ancestry.com DNA results arrived in my email during lunch. I was excited to see what the results were so over a pint of beer I eagerly signed into my account. They were a bit surprising and showed that I was 47% England, Wales, & Northwestern Europe and 27% Germanic Europe. I had done a previous test comparing my DNA to current populations (through ConnectMyDNA) which had shown that I match most with people now living in Ireland. England didn’t even make the list of the 25 countries cited in the results, but my ancestry test showed that I was only 13% Irish. I was puzzled for a moment and then realized how the pieces may fall together.

    I was one of the invaders.

    I had said it only jokingly at first. However, although that statement is perhaps a bit heavy handed (after all I would only be a descendent, a several hundred years later), the results did seem to hint in that direction. Questions about heritage and legacy bubbled up and I wondered: at what point does the history of our distant ancestors cease to be significant to us, as far as the sense of identity? Three generations ago? Ten? Never, perhaps?

The stormy coast of Inis Oirr, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

     On the way back to the mainland from Inis Oirr, I pondered these questions. The storm had intensified and made for a turbulent return trip. Kason hid beneath their poncho as the waves splashed the windows. Although the storm made me slightly nervous, I wasn't very afraid. I felt I was born to be on the water. As we approached the Cliffs of Moher, the sea settled a bit, but the boat was still rocking as I headed out to the deck to view the cliffs. The fresh water of the sky and the salty water of the sea fell on my face, feeling natural and familiar. Was it Viking blood that had called me to the water my whole life?

The Cliffs of Moher, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

     Before coming to Ireland and later the Americas, did my ancestry from “England, Wales, & Northwestern Europe” come from Vikings who contended with the kings of England during the Viking age, called Danelaw? Or, perhaps my lineage descends more from the Romans who overran Britannia? Or, from the Germanic Angles, Saxons, and Jutes who came after the Romans. Or was it from the ‘original’ Celtic tribes? Unfortunately, Ancestry.com’s support center was unable to answer this question for me. My studies have always focused primarily on ancient history in the Mediterranean and Near East, so exploring my heritage has opened up new fields of history to me as I am starting to explore Medieval European history. However, early English history is as complex as Ireland’s; I do not feel any closer to resolving ‘where I come from’.

King John's Castle, Limerick, Ireland.  King John was the inspiration for the king in the Robin Hood story.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

     Before leaving on this trip, I had been creating a family tree through Ancestry.com and came to discover that, much to my surprise, my family had been from my home state of Pennsylvania for about 250 years on both sides of the family (perhaps longer). On my father’s side, not only were they from Pennsylvania in general, but specifically from my very small hometown of Manheim and a few of the surrounding towns. Does this mean I am “Pennsylvanian”? Does the melting pot of early American history constitute its own separate culture? Two hundred and fifty years seems like a fairly significant heritage.

A covered bridge in Manheim, Pennsylvania. Originally built in 1847 a few miles away, it was moved to Manheim in 1971.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

    So far, I’ve only been able to trace two ancestors back to the Old World; one was from Ireland and the other from Switzerland. Interestingly, my Swiss ancestor Hans Brubaker bought the land that was my neighborhood growing up. It had been called Grenage but it was changed to Mastersonville. I was born where my first American ancestors laid their roots.

An old map of Mastersonville in Manheim, Pennsylvania.  My maiden name of Gibble is found in several places on this map, along with other surnames that continue to be prolific in the area.  Source unknown. 

     I had heard someone say once - when referring to culture - that everyone deserved to have an identity and to be proud of it, but we should also have a space for welcoming and hospitality. Cultural identity should distinguish but not divide. Over the years, I have thought about my cultural and ethnic identity quite a bit. I often wondered where I landed and if, as a “mutt”, could I just choose out of the many heritages that made up my family? Could I choose to identify as either English or Irish? Am I simply “American”? Would Pennsylvanian be more accurate, since Amish Country often does seem to have a culture unique from other areas? A northern European migrant? A paleolithic Near Eastern Homo Sapian (that moved into Europe between 35,000-10,000 BCE)? What about that touch of Susquehannock Native American said to be on my mom’s side? Or all the German surnames names that pepper my family tree? I was always told we were Dutch, German, Swiss, and Irish, but the story now seems much more complicated than that.  

Kason in front of Ducketts Grove House, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

     I may never track down my exact lineage. And I may come to find that it does not matter much either. However, this journey has led me to feel more connected to my Pennsylvanian roots like never before, as the generations on my family tree continue to spread back further into Pennsylvania’s history. But that is not the whole story nor the end, as my adventures and those of my children may lead down paths to lands further away than Maryland. We find ourselves called back to the Old World or to move on to new places previously unseen by our DNA. If that is the case, we will bring with us our story and absorb that of those around us. My ancestors boarded ships and crossed the seas to new lands, undoubtedly more than once, to continue their story, carrying the blood of their ancestors, the culture of their family, and the hope of the future.

The Rock of Cashel, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

The Rock of Cashel, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

The Rock of Cashel, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey.

Wicklow Mountains, Ireland.  Photo by April Lynn Downey

The passage entry at Newgrange, with Neolithic carvings including the triskelon (left).  We were told on the tour that the meaning of the carvings was unknown.  However, I already had the triskelon tattooed on my arm as it is often said this symbol means 'progress' and 'moving forward' (right).  Photos by April Lynn Downey.

To learn more about Pennsylvania Dutch immigrants, click here

REFERENCES:

• Brubaker, Henry S.  “The Brubaker Genealogy.”  Mount Joy Bulletin.  1912.
• Dougherty, Martin J.  “Norse Myths: Viking Legends of Heroes and Gods.”  Amber Books, Ltd.  2017.
• “England, Wales & Northwestern Europe.”  Ancestry.com.  https://www.ancestry.com/dna/origins/462DFFC0-7E67-4AC9-A14A-3FD15B91E936/ethnicity/AngloSaxon/history.
• “Inisheer – Aran Islands.” http://aranislands.galway-ireland.ie/inisheer.htm
• "Newgrange - World Heritage Site."  https://www.newgrange.com/
• Schrover, Marlou.  “The History of International Migration.”  Universiteit Leiden.  2008. http://www.let.leidenuniv.nl/history/migration/chapter111.html
• “St. Cavan’s Church.” https://visitgalway.ie/st-cavans-church/