VISITING HOME OF MY IRISH ANCESTORS

The main things that most people want to know about their ancestors and family tree is, where did we come from, and when did we emigrate to the United States. Finding out these answers tells us what nationality, or nationalities that we will take pride in and begin to better understand ourselves. Once we find out where from, who from, and when we got here, we often dream of visiting the places these new-found ancestors came from. For men especially, we think about our direct male, to male line, from which most of us get out surnames. I got to do that very thing, on Saint Patrick’s Day, in the 100th anniversary year of the Irish Republic! How is that for timing?

I was blessed to take my family to the very spot, the little map dot village of Glantane, County Cork, Ireland, where my direct male ancestor, my 8th great-grandfather John Cremin, Sr., left to emigrate in 1677, and in this article, I’m going to share the story with you. I have been doing genealogy for a quite some time, and long ago, I discovered my direct male emigrant ancestor’s story. His name is John Cremin, Sr., and I’ll go ahead and clear up something right off the bat since he has a different surname than I do. In my family tree I have a situation that is extremely common when you start digging into the past. At one point a son was given the maiden surname of his mother, and that surname carries on to me. I must say that we are very, very proud of our Carson surname and of our family. It has been proven without a shadow of a doubt, through DNA, who our direct male line goes through and it is through that research that we were able to trace this line. 

I’ll begin by telling you about my ancestor and then I’ll tell you about his hometown and what you can find there. The surname Cremin, was once O’Cremin, or O’Cruimin which comes from a woman named Cruimin, who was the sister of one of the chieftains of the MacCarthy Clan, who was also the King of Munster, one of the four ancient kingdoms of Ireland. This makes us a sept, or a family that falls under the MacCarthy Clan. The MacCarthy Clan are those who built Blarney Castle, and the Blarney Stone’s Gift of Gab has definitely trickled down through us. In 1677, shortly after Ireland was brutally invaded and occupied by Oliver Cromwell, my emigrant ancestor John Cremin left the little village of Glantane, journeyed to Cork where he boarded a ship called “Croan Maligo”, which translates to “Crowned Evil”. Crowned Evil, how is that for a name of the ship to take you on a two to three-month journey to the unknown? 

John was a teenager and was an indentured servant. I can only imagine the circumstances of his leaving home alone and at a young age. Perhaps he wanted adventure, perhaps he was poor, perhaps he had no reason to stay where he was, perhaps he was running from something, or perhaps, he was indentured at such a young age, and so early in history, because like so many others of the time, he had committed a crime and was being forced into indenture. Many of our ancestors were forced into this situation for the smallest of crimes, especially those that were a threat or a problem for the English rulers. 

We may never know the circumstance of John’s departure but we do know that his indenture was purchased on Taylor Island, in Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay. There is quite a bit that we don’t know about John, but what we do know is that he found success and before his death in 1713, he is listed as owning one hundred acres of land. He was one of the very first to achieve the American dream, and that is something that I am very proud of knowing. The surname eventually became pronounced and spelled “Cremeans”, and that’s what it is today. The family stayed in Maryland and Delaware until the early 1800s, when they moved to Mason County, now West Virginia. By the early 1900s they had moved to Columbus, Ohio and soon the story meets with me. 

My wife locked on our trip to Ireland as a 25th wedding anniversary present and because of COVID it was delayed a year. The delay caused us to decide to take our three children with us and we announced it to them Christmas morning. When I found out that I was going to Ireland the first thing that I thought of was, man I hope we can find a way to go to Glantane. I’m a professional genealogist, and I had been to forty countries all over the world, but never to the land of so many of my ancestors. 

We were in Cork, Ireland for the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade and when it was finished, with the help of my friend Ann Ellard, we locked on a taxi to take us the thirty-minute ride into the country side to Glantane. No one that we talked to, not even our driver, Patrick Moynihan, a local Cork native, had heard of Glantane. Glantane is just a little “T” in the road, with about thirty houses, two churches and of course a pub which is appropriately called, “The Local”. Patrick sped along, enjoyed the craic with us, and stopped a few times for us to see the amazing scenery. I can honestly say; no video or picture can accurately describe the beauty that we saw. Seeing the exact sights that I know my ancestors saw for unknown centuries caused my pulse to race and flood me with emotions. 

I knew that the town had two churches with cemeteries of their own and like any good genealogist, I wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to see one. Just as we came into town we arrived at one of the churches and made this our first stop. We looked around the amazing cemetery and explored the church yard, taking in the beauty of the sun cracking through the clouds. I know how this sounds, but I really don’t care, it was as if we were being told; welcome home.

Soon we ventured out onto the road where we saw a magnificent stone sign with “Glantane” in gold writing. I couldn’t believe that we were really here! We paused for a few pictures that will forever be treasured by me. From here we went to the next cemetery which was quite large. The headstones were ornate and detailed, not what I was expecting from being in so many small village cemeteries. Celtic Crosses were everywhere and the green rolling hills around it made it one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen. It wasn’t long before we found one, and then another, and another, and still another, we found headstones with our ancestors’ surname! Many of them! These were modern headstones, not ancient ones. Since our ancestor John Cremin, Sr. left this village in 1677, that proves that at least for the last 350 years, we have had family living in this valley. Perhaps, in fact quite likely, we had ancestors living in this same valley countless centuries before. That my friends, is a powerful, sobering thought. I said a prayer, breathed in the air, and had a few minutes of quiet to reflect on the moment. 

Upon leaving the cemetery we took in what few sites there was to see in the tiny village. Right in the center of the “T” in the road is a Celtic Cross monument dedicated to local men, William O’Connell, Edmond Waters, and Michael Kiely, who gave their lives fighting for Ireland’s independence. For several centuries County Cork has been called the “Rebel County” and these local men certainly lived up to that name. May these heroes rest in peace.

Also, in the center of town is a small public well. I couldn’t help but wonder how long this well had been here, and if this well was the reason that this village was here in the first place. Did my ancestors use this well? The thought of that is mind boggling. From here we did what any good Irishmen would do, we headed down to the local pub and like the advertisement said on the front, it was a lovely day for a Guinness.

With it being just a bit before dark on Saint Patrick’s Day, we weren’t sure what we would find inside. The pub was occupied by the owners, a man and woman in their late fifties to early sixties, and three men who were likely in their fifties, and even more likely, from the way they were acting, had been on those stools for quite some time. Everyone was staring at us quite perplexed, so my family took seats at the bar and I stated who we were and what we were doing there. No one seemed impressed with what I had said but one of the men asked what is the surname of my ancestors. When I told him Cremin, one mumbled something and pointed to his friend. I then asked him if his last name was Cremin, which he replied in that very unique Cork accent, “no I’m not a Cremin, I’m a CRIMINAL!” The three men and the husband and wife roared with laughter and I said, “well alright then” and took my seat at the bar. It was evident by the way it was built that the pub was very old. When I asked the owner just how old the building was he didn’t know but said it was over one hundred years old. To me it seemed much older than that but I don’t have experience with time period building styles in Ireland like I do back home.

We toasted to our ancestors and to our success of the day and soon it was time to head back. We took in our last views of this simple, yet to us magical town and loaded up in Patrick’s taxi to head back to Cork. As we left the city limits, I must admit that I was overwhelmed with emotion at what we had just done. Our family held hands as the last light was leaving the then dark green valley of our ancestors. Patrick played traditional Irish songs by the Wolfe Tones all the way back. When we arrived, we paused for a photo with Patrick, the newest adopted member of our Clan.

We had done it. On Saint Patrick’s Day, in the 100th anniversary year of the Irish Republic, no less! What an easy way to remember what day that we did it on. This was without a doubt, one of the most moving, powerful, inspirational, spiritual and emotional things that I have ever done in my life. I have made it my mission to help as many people as I can, honor their ancestors, and that fact that I was able to visit the exact map dot village where my direct male, emigrant ancestor left Ireland from, will forever be fulfilling. So, what do you think? We’d love to hear what you think of this adventure in the comments below and don’t forget to tell us about your emigrant ancestors. Honor them by remembering them and they are never truly gone. Be sure to see the video below of this adventure.

– Col. Russ Carson, Jr, Founder, Family Tree Nuts