by Patrick J (Paddy) Heneghan
George Knowling of Water Street, Waterford City, who died by drowning in 1876, was my great-grandfather. My mother was Elizabeth Foley of Tralee, eldest daughter of Martha Knowling of Waterford City, who was one of the five children of George Knowling.
The name Knowling has disappeared in Ireland, the subsequent generations of this George I now write of having adapted to the very common Irish name Nolan. My grandmother Martha Foley (née Martha Knowling) married John J. Foley of Tralee under the name Martha Nolan. The place of her former childhood residence - Water Street - in Waterford was over time cleared and the street no longer exists. Her sister, whom we called Aunt Ciss, married Johnnie White and they lived in St Alphonus Road, Waterford, with their two children Laurence (Sonny) and Eileen (Eily). All of those mentoned in this paragraph are now deceased.
My grandmother Foley never spoke about the death of her father, but I picked up the broad details of the story of his drowning during regular visits to Tralee during my childhood. The family tale was a smooth story with no loose ends, and left nothing unexplained. It turned out to be an impressionistic picture of the original historic and indeed heroic event. It went as follows:
George Knowling with two companions went out in a rowboat on the river Suir. A sudden gust of wind overturned the boat and the three were left in the water hanging on to the side of the boat. George Knowling was the only one of the three who could swim, and he was able to help in getting one of the party to the quayside. He then swam back to rescue the other. He reached the boat as it was being carried seawards with the current. The boat drifted away and no trace was ever found afterwards of the two men. It was assumed that George was just too exhausted to get himself and his companion back to shore. That was the extent of the story as it came down to us children
I make a slight but relevant digression here. Some years ago I bought a book written by a history professor named White from a Boston University. His mother was a lady from a place called Aghnagran, near Listowel, in County Kerry. This lady grew up on a somewhat impoverished farm from which her father had emigrated to Chicago, leaving his wife and family in Ireland. This daughter in her late teens joined her father in Chicago, and during the course of the Second World War got work with an airline company in Chicago. She met and married an officer named White of the United States air force, and their her son, the professor referred to, heard many stories from his mother about her family back home in Ireland. After his mother’s death the professor eventually, out of professional as well as personal curiosity, decided to visit Ireland to see the scenes of his mother’s early adventures and to check out with his relatives the accuracy of his mother’s stories. He received a very warm from his many Irish relatives. On his return to the Boston the professor wrote a book about his visit to Aghnagran and concluded that oral tradition does not like complications, and that tales of events, over time, such as those he heard from his mother, become moulded and simplified, and sometimes can be quite inaccurate as to the facts. Oral tradition, he wrote, does not like complicated speculation.
In my efforts to discover further the details of my great-grandfather’s death, I wrote to the central Library in Waterford. In reply I was told that the library could not trace any record of the drowning event, but they supplied me with an account of the work of a noted George Nolan, builder, who, they speculated, could have been a relative. I got no further in my own researches until the press account of the inquest turned up. A copy of the text follows:
From The Waterford Daily Mail, March 20, 1876. Report of Inquest
DEATH BY DROWNING – LOSS OF THREE LIVES
One of the most distressing accidents which has occurred for a long series of years took place about six o’clock last Saturday evening. Four young men, named McClelland, Nolan, Condon, and Ronayne had put out in a boat for the purpose of exercise prior to a regatta which it was contemplated holding in a short time. The three first-named were employees of Mr J P Graves’ sawmill, McClelland, who was a native of Scotland and a married man, being foreman sawyer. Ronayne was a very young man and was unmarried. His widowed mother keeps a public house in Manor-street, and the deceased was an only son. He had only about a month previously terminated his apprenticeship as an engine-fitter at the engine works of the Waterford and Limerick Railway.
Nolan leaves a wife and five children to be provided for. He had been an enthusiastic admirer of aquatic sports, and was considered an experienced amateur. The boat, which had been only a short time purchased, was the joint property of the ill-fated young men who lost their lives out of her. She was fitted with a sail, and to this circumstance was attributed the untimely fate which overtook the occupants.
It will be remembered that the entire of Saturday was remarkable as being windy, squalls occurring at intervals; and it was owing to a sudden gust, which burst upon them with the violence of a hurricane, and with the rapidity of lightening, that the boat was capsized, and its occupants precipitated into the water. The gale had sprung up while they were in the act of tacking from north to south, they having been ashore a short time previously and having determined to run for Woodlands adjoining the demesne of Faithlegg when the boat upset.
Condon struck out for the Waterford shore, and succeeded in safely reaching Woodlands, and on coming to land he was observed to sit upon a large stone while he endeavoured to ascertain what had become of his comrades.
McClelland had made for the opposite direction and had succeeded in making the shore but there he was shortly after discovered with his topcoat covering his head and face downward with arms outstretched, as if in the act of swimming. It was on the grounds of Mr. P. Anderson, Glasshouse, that the unfortunate young man was lying, and that gentleman had him removed to his house, where all the means which humanity could suggest to restore animation was freely applied, but without avail: the Suir’s cold tide had extinguished the vital spark, and his two comrades had found a resting place beneath its turgid waters.
Nothing has since been seen of the bodies of Ronayne and Nolan, though constant grappling is taking place in the river. The recovered body was placed in an outhouse belonging to Mr. Anderson, and remained there pending an inquest which was held on Monday by Mr. T. Izod, Coroner for the Co. Kilkenny, when a verdict in accordance with the facts stated was returned by the jury. END
The name Knowling has disappeared in Ireland, the subsequent generations of this George I now write of having adapted to the very common Irish name Nolan. My grandmother Martha Foley (née Martha Knowling) married John J. Foley of Tralee under the name Martha Nolan. The place of her former childhood residence - Water Street - in Waterford was over time cleared and the street no longer exists. Her sister, whom we called Aunt Ciss, married Johnnie White and they lived in St Alphonus Road, Waterford, with their two children Laurence (Sonny) and Eileen (Eily). All of those mentoned in this paragraph are now deceased.
My grandmother Foley never spoke about the death of her father, but I picked up the broad details of the story of his drowning during regular visits to Tralee during my childhood. The family tale was a smooth story with no loose ends, and left nothing unexplained. It turned out to be an impressionistic picture of the original historic and indeed heroic event. It went as follows:
George Knowling with two companions went out in a rowboat on the river Suir. A sudden gust of wind overturned the boat and the three were left in the water hanging on to the side of the boat. George Knowling was the only one of the three who could swim, and he was able to help in getting one of the party to the quayside. He then swam back to rescue the other. He reached the boat as it was being carried seawards with the current. The boat drifted away and no trace was ever found afterwards of the two men. It was assumed that George was just too exhausted to get himself and his companion back to shore. That was the extent of the story as it came down to us children
I make a slight but relevant digression here. Some years ago I bought a book written by a history professor named White from a Boston University. His mother was a lady from a place called Aghnagran, near Listowel, in County Kerry. This lady grew up on a somewhat impoverished farm from which her father had emigrated to Chicago, leaving his wife and family in Ireland. This daughter in her late teens joined her father in Chicago, and during the course of the Second World War got work with an airline company in Chicago. She met and married an officer named White of the United States air force, and their her son, the professor referred to, heard many stories from his mother about her family back home in Ireland. After his mother’s death the professor eventually, out of professional as well as personal curiosity, decided to visit Ireland to see the scenes of his mother’s early adventures and to check out with his relatives the accuracy of his mother’s stories. He received a very warm from his many Irish relatives. On his return to the Boston the professor wrote a book about his visit to Aghnagran and concluded that oral tradition does not like complications, and that tales of events, over time, such as those he heard from his mother, become moulded and simplified, and sometimes can be quite inaccurate as to the facts. Oral tradition, he wrote, does not like complicated speculation.
In my efforts to discover further the details of my great-grandfather’s death, I wrote to the central Library in Waterford. In reply I was told that the library could not trace any record of the drowning event, but they supplied me with an account of the work of a noted George Nolan, builder, who, they speculated, could have been a relative. I got no further in my own researches until the press account of the inquest turned up. A copy of the text follows:
From The Waterford Daily Mail, March 20, 1876. Report of Inquest
DEATH BY DROWNING – LOSS OF THREE LIVES
One of the most distressing accidents which has occurred for a long series of years took place about six o’clock last Saturday evening. Four young men, named McClelland, Nolan, Condon, and Ronayne had put out in a boat for the purpose of exercise prior to a regatta which it was contemplated holding in a short time. The three first-named were employees of Mr J P Graves’ sawmill, McClelland, who was a native of Scotland and a married man, being foreman sawyer. Ronayne was a very young man and was unmarried. His widowed mother keeps a public house in Manor-street, and the deceased was an only son. He had only about a month previously terminated his apprenticeship as an engine-fitter at the engine works of the Waterford and Limerick Railway.
Nolan leaves a wife and five children to be provided for. He had been an enthusiastic admirer of aquatic sports, and was considered an experienced amateur. The boat, which had been only a short time purchased, was the joint property of the ill-fated young men who lost their lives out of her. She was fitted with a sail, and to this circumstance was attributed the untimely fate which overtook the occupants.
It will be remembered that the entire of Saturday was remarkable as being windy, squalls occurring at intervals; and it was owing to a sudden gust, which burst upon them with the violence of a hurricane, and with the rapidity of lightening, that the boat was capsized, and its occupants precipitated into the water. The gale had sprung up while they were in the act of tacking from north to south, they having been ashore a short time previously and having determined to run for Woodlands adjoining the demesne of Faithlegg when the boat upset.
Condon struck out for the Waterford shore, and succeeded in safely reaching Woodlands, and on coming to land he was observed to sit upon a large stone while he endeavoured to ascertain what had become of his comrades.
McClelland had made for the opposite direction and had succeeded in making the shore but there he was shortly after discovered with his topcoat covering his head and face downward with arms outstretched, as if in the act of swimming. It was on the grounds of Mr. P. Anderson, Glasshouse, that the unfortunate young man was lying, and that gentleman had him removed to his house, where all the means which humanity could suggest to restore animation was freely applied, but without avail: the Suir’s cold tide had extinguished the vital spark, and his two comrades had found a resting place beneath its turgid waters.
Nothing has since been seen of the bodies of Ronayne and Nolan, though constant grappling is taking place in the river. The recovered body was placed in an outhouse belonging to Mr. Anderson, and remained there pending an inquest which was held on Monday by Mr. T. Izod, Coroner for the Co. Kilkenny, when a verdict in accordance with the facts stated was returned by the jury. END
