The good old name of Hayes, in the persons of Thomas and his wife, Bridget, shows up July 25, 1690, when unto them a child was born, named Eliza. This is like some other names mentioned, found now all over the country; in this case, Bridget must be the Eve of the modern Garden of Eden—the Hub—at least so far as the Hayes’ are concerned, for she was the first of the tribe in the Trimountain Paradise. Reilly has two representatives in John and Bridget Rylee, who had born to them on September 10, 1693, a daughter, Hannah. After 1700, Irish names peculiar to the South, as well as the North of Ireland, rapidly appear. In the records of the selectmen of the town of Boston, September 27, 1736, John Savell was required to give a bond for a servant imported from Ireland by Captain Arnold. James Wimble had to do the same for George Lucas’ wife and child from Ireland.
Captain John Carrell—Carroll—ditto, for twelve persons he brought from Ireland in his vessel. Dinish and Honor Cniae—Kenna—and their two boys, were of this number. September 29, Joshua Winslow, Esq., gave a bond for William Steward, wife and two children, imported by Captain Boyd. Steward was a cooper, and in the following November was admitted an inhabitant of the town.
THE IRISH IN AMERICA.[[7]]
BY HERBERT N. CASSON, NEW YORK CITY.
[7]. Published originally in Munsey’s Magazine, New York, April, 1906.
A certain green isle in a northerly sea is the historic home of the Irish people, but the present address of at least two thirds of the scattered race is “United States of America.” Boston, not Belfast nor Dublin, is now the greatest Irish city in the world; and the overwhelming majority of Irishmen who have risen to places of distinction have done so under the Stars and Stripes.
The historian who shall do full justice to the Irish branch of the human family has not yet appeared, either in the United States or elsewhere. Consequently, there are few races, if any, which have been so persistently misunderstood and undervalued. Even in this country, where such a mistake is least excusable, there has been a tendency in some quarters to regard the Irish as merely an element of the rank and file. The truth is that they have contributed their share of leaders and pioneers in almost every line of progress.
At least seven of our presidents have had more or less of Irish blood in their veins. Jackson, Buchanan and Arthur were the sons of Ulster parents; and the first American ancestor of Polk was an Irish immigrant. Monroe and McKinley were more remotely related to the “fighting race.” The latter, it is well known, was fond of saying, “We Irish.” Roosevelt, also, had several Hibernian twigs on his family tree. This, in itself, is an amazing record of Celtic leadership—to have helped to mold the character of seven American presidents out of twenty-five.
In the making of America, the Irish have been structural. No other word represents their influence so well. In the clearing of forests, the digging of canals, the building of railroads, and the extension of commerce, our civilization owes an incalculable debt to Irish hands and Irish heads.
In the traits of our national character, too, we Americans are all more Irish than we realize. Our versatility and buoyancy, our quickness of initiative, our free and unconventional ways, and the sporting instinct that leads us to take chances and beat records, are a few of the evidences of an Irish strain in our blood.