MONTY'S MEMORIES

Part 1. Beginnings

It All Started

It all started at approximately 0815 hours on 26 August 1918, at 25 Stanton Street, Pawcatuck, Connecticut, our home. Pawcatuck is a village within the town of Stonington, Connecticut; the Post Office address is Westerly, Rhode Island. Weighed, as I remember, 8 1/2 pounds, and healthy. The Great War, or World War I, as it came to be known later, was over two months from being over. My father, thirty years old and with a pregnant wife, had never been drafted.

Names

My father's full name was Edward Aloysius Montague, but he did not wish to make me a junior. My middle name is Thomas, after Father Thomas Lawless, my mother's first cousin. Tom was the only priest in the family. He died full of years, in 1988. My mother was Kathryn Elizabeth Holmes. They were married in 1915 at St. Michael's Church in Pawcatuck, where both had been baptized. I was also baptized there. Both parents were later buried from the same church.

Roots

There is some uncertainty as to the MONTAGUE roots. The Lews, older cousins, whose name was originally Lowe, and changed by an immigration official, always said that the name was MACTAGUE, which could have come from MACTAIG, or even MACTADGH. On the other hand, it could be of Norman extraction. There is a record of a Montague coming into Ireland in the twelfth century. In recent years, and in the North today, the appellation "Tague", or "Taig" is a term of opprobrium, meaning Roman Catholic. Therefore the name, which is common in Counties Tyrone and Fermanagh, almost always signifies a Roman Catholic family.

Grandparents

Grandfather John Montague, born in Ireland, came to this country with his mother Susan and brother Peter. Another brother, Michael, died in childhood, and is buried in Ireland. Like so many of the Irish of the times, John was a skilled stonecutter. It came naturally; stones were the only commodity left by the British. I'm not certain where they first settled, but by the late 70's or early 80's they were living around Apponaug, Rhode Island. Susan is buried there somewhere today. As Westerly's major industry was the quarrying of fine granite, there was a demand for men like John. A fair-minded manager at Smith's Granite Quarry (a rarity in those bigoted days) hired John to come to Westerly as a foreman. Most of the workers were Irishmen from Cork and Kerry, and they deeply resented this new boss, who was not only an import, but a Northerner (of Ireland). They contemptuously called him a Far-Downer, a term which puzzled me for years, until an Irish priest pointed out that the name came from "fear", Irish for "man", and that the "Down" represented his "Down North" birthplace. In any case, the manager made it clear that either the work force could accept their new foreman, or "clear their lunchboxes out of there". There was little collective bargaining in those days. And so, up until his untimely death, the Montagues were perhaps better off financially than most of the Irish at the time. Ellen McKeon was born in Charlottestown, Prince Edward Island, one of ten siblings. (See genealogy program) Great-grandfather John (Big Daddy) McKeon came from (uncertain) Newry, in County Armagh. His wife, Catherine (Mo) Harvey also came from there. They married and immigrated to Canada. Like so many of the Irish of the times, I am sure that they left the boat at the first land they saw. Irish immigrants came not so much to get into a new country as to get out of Ireland. My grandmother's birth is recorded in PEI. I mention the previous fact to suggest that it be up to some future genealogist to pin down the birthplaces of John and Catherine. Since I knew neither of them, I do not know whether or not they spoke Irish. It was about that time that the disappearance of Irish was well under way. By the way, Ellen was the only one of my four grandparents not born in Ireland. Maternal grandparents were Mary Lawless (see genealogy program) and Patrick Holmes. Mary was his second wife. The first wife, Maria Flaherty, died, and is buried, I believe, in Amesbury, Massachusetts. There were two children of that union, Mary (Dolly), who married Jack Lynch--one child, Mary-- and James, who died in childhood. I remember Jack very well; he was a janitor at the Westerly Post Office. Jack died in the prime of life, and left Dolly, who was already suffering from arthritis. She eventually became totally helpless, and spent her days in bed. All her joints were immovable, and she could do little more than turn her head, and move her fingers only enough to hold a rosary, which she said constantly. Her daughter Mary, to here credit, devoted her life to the care of her mother. When Dolly finally died, Mary moved away, and I have heard nothing more from her in all these years. Grandmother Lawless died in 1915, and I have no memories of her. My grandfather Patrick, whom I recall as a dignified and dapper gentleman, lived with us until his death in 1927. He worked up to the end, as did most people in those days, as a "loomfixer" at a textile mill in Ashaway. I heard of one incident wherein he was hailed by an acquaintance who called out, "Hey, Pat!" He continued sedately on his way. A friend approached and said to him, "Pat--that man is calling you". "Calling me?", answered Grandfather. "I thought he was calling to a horse!" Ever the model of dignity. Patrick spoke Irish, and tried, I am told, to teach it to my mother, who would have nothing to do with it. Now, struggling with the language myself, I wish I'd paid more attention. Ever the model of dignity. Patrick spoke Irish, and tried, I am told, to teach it to my mother, who would have nothing to do with it. Now, struggling with the language myself, I wish I'd paid more attention. and grandfather, standing up to reach to side curtain, was thrown out, and fractured his skull.

Bothers and Sisters

I had no brothers or sisters. My parents realized they could not hope to do better, and so did not try. In point of fact, my mother had a number of early miscarriages, and it is not for lack of trying that I am an only child. Further, my parents' generation doesn't seem to have been very prolific; I only have three first cousins, plus Mary Lynch, a half-first cousin. But Mary never married, having devoted her life to caring for her mother, and having since disappeared from sight. I have a lot of second cousins, however, and stayed in touch with many of them.

End of Part-1

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