Tag Archives: Irish Pittsburgh

Detailing Irish prisoners in Western Pennsylvania

In 1917, 220 Irish immigrants were incarcerated for minor offenses at the Allegheny County Workhouse and Inebriate Asylum near Blawnox, Pennsylvania, about 10 miles east of downtown Pittsburgh.

The Irish were 4.5 percent of the 4,826 people taken to the workhouse throughout the year as the United States entered World War I. They probably emigrated from most of the 32 counties of pre-partition Ireland under British rule.

I came across these details while researching a long-deceased Irish-Catholic relation from Kerry who I thought might have spent time in the workhouse. The prisoner turned out to be a black Baptist from Ohio with the same first and last name.

Old postcard image of the Allegheny County Workhouse.

The Irish incarcerated during 1917 were third behind U.S. citizens (74.32 percent) and Austrians (7.56 percent). Strong Irish immigration to Western Pennsylvania in the 19th and early 20th century probably means the U.S. total included a significant number of first generation Irish Americans. Assuming just 10 percent of the U.S.-born prisoners had such heritage, the Irish total would increase to 14 percent of the workhouse population.

That’s more in line with the 12.32 percent of Irish natives incarcerated at the workhouse from the time it opened in 1869, according to the institution’s 1917 annual report.

Men and women who committed more serious crimes were usually sentenced to Western Penitentiary, about 15 miles west of the workhouse along the Allegheny/Ohio rivers. The original “Western Pen” opened in 1826. It was replaced in 1882 by the building now being closed after more than a century. (Allegheny County Workhouse closed in 1971.)

I’ve found only spotty historical records for Western Pen that detail prisoners’ nation of origin. Irish natives averaged 3.5 percent of those incarcerated in 1881, 1884, 1886, 1888, 1890, 1895 and 1896.

Of course, the workhouse and Western Pen statistical reports lack many details, and historical and social context, including the percentages of Irish living in the general population of Pittsburgh and surrounding counties. Other questions: What types of crimes did the Irish commit? How often was their arrest the direct or indirect result of anti-Irish or anti-Catholic prejudice? How many had been criminals in Ireland? What impacts did Irish penetration of law enforcement and the legal system have on criminal justice? How about other upward social mobility for the Irish?

One small detail is available. About 15 percent of all prisoners who entered the workhouse during its first 48 years of operation could not read or write. Among the Irish, illiteracy was nearly 18 percent over the same period. In 1917, however, only 20 native Irish were illiterate, less than 0.5 percent of all those incarcerated.

Here are more general details about the workhouse:

  • In 1917, the average daily population was 843. It cost an average of 74 cents per day to confine each inmate, but earnings from their labor reduced the expense to 19 cents per prisoner per day.
  • Prisoners worked on a 1,100-acre farm, which was expanded in 1917 to help feed the troops in Europe. Inmates also produced brushes, brooms, carpets, chairs, and blacksmithed goods. They provided laundry services and other hired labor.
  • Of the 4,826 people incarcerated during 1917, 92 percent were men, and about 70 percent of the prison population was white. The most common occupation of the prisoners was laborer. There were 26 butchers, 27 bakers and 19 boilermakers … five soldiers, three sailors and three police.
  • The most cited offense was “suspicious person” (1,317), followed by disorderly conduct (977) and vagrancy (736). A total of 602 offences were related to consuming and selling alcohol. The most frequent sentence was 30 days (2,721 prisoners,) while 27 received terms of two years or longer.

See the 1917 statistical report for the Allegheny County Workhouse, with annual updates through 1922. Here are Western Pen reports for 1881 to 1890. Workhouse prisoner names can be searched on Ancestry.com.

Old St. Patrick Church, Pittsburgh

I wrote the post below for the ‘Everyday Soul’ blog of the Franciscan Center in Tampa, Fla. I was on the board of directors when it was published March 17, 2011. The images are from the original 2013 post on this site. MH

This image of the courtyard outside Old St. Patrick’s Church in Pittsburgh is from 2013. A new statue was installed in 2018. See images.

Visiting Sacred Places: Old St. Patrick’s Church

The admonition to “Preach the Gospel at all time; use words when necessary,” is generally attributed to St. Francis, though there is some dispute about this among scholars, which I will not tackle here.

Rather, I want to urge a variation on the theme: “Visit sacred places often; go there when necessary.”

I’m flying home to Pittsburgh on St. Patrick’s Day to visit my family. I hope to wander off on my own for a quick visit to one of my favorite places for spiritual renewal.

Old St. Patrick’s Church, founded in 1808, is the city’s oldest parish. Read about the church’s colorful history, including a priest who ran for president during the Great Depression.

I discovered Old St. Patrick’s in the mid-1970s. I don’t remember how I came to wander through the opening in the red brick, ivy-covered walls of the Monastery Gardens fronting the church. I found an oasis in the middle of city ward packed with produce warehouses and slashed by railroad sidings.

The garden is divided into lush, grassy quadrants shaded by trees and dotted with evergreens and seasonal flowers. A statue of Ireland’s great patron saint commands the center of the garden from a stone pedestal. The surrounding brick walls contain the Stations of the Cross. In a corner near the front door is a grotto modeled after Lourdes.

It is amazing how quiet and peaceful the garden is in the middle of busy industrial and commercial district.

Inside the church is a replica of the Holy Stairs, which represent the 28 steps between Christ and Pilate in the Passion. They are meant to be ascended prayerfully on one’s knees, a devotional exercise I’ve done on several occasions, though not with every visit.

Replica of the Holy Stairs. “Ascend on knees only.”

The second floor church and sanctuary (reached from side stairs) now hosts only a mid-day Mass twice a week, the neighborhood that once surrounded the church having long since moved away. It is more like a chapel than a church.

It is a joy to partake of the Eucharist with others in this intimate setting, though I am just as grateful for the times I visited alone. This is a place where you just have to light a votive candle. Inside or out, the purpose of the visit is prayer and reflection.

I don’t get to visit Old St. Patrick’s every trip to Pittsburgh, but I put myself there frequently during my meditative time. The church door and garden gate are never locked.

We work and pray to make the Franciscan Center in Tampa “an environment of peace, simplicity and hospitality for all those seeking spiritual renewal.” We invite you to come away and rest awhile.

And Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

Note the green sanctuary lamp (they are usually red) top left and the small harp on left side of the tabernacle.

“Irish Pittsburgh” author Patricia McElligott speaks April 28

Patricia McElligott, who produced Irish Pittsburgh for Arcadia Publishing’s Images of America series, is speaking and showing photos from her book at the Sunday, April 28th meeting of the Catholic Historical Society of Western Pennsylvania.

The event begins 2 p.m. at St. Paul’s Seminary, O’Connor Hall, 2900 Noblestown Road in Crafton.

For those of us far from Western Pennsylvania but with deep Irish and Pittsburgh roots, McElligott has fashioned a must-have pictorial book. As the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette said in its review:

Many of today’s Irish residents can trace their roots to immigrants fleeing the great potato famine of the mid-1800s. They came to work in the iron and steel mills, mines and railroads, while the women toiled as domestic servants in such large numbers that “Bridget the Maid” became a staple on stage and film. The newcomers settled in the Point, the Hill District, Homewood and the North Side. Combatting anti-Irish and anti-Catholic prejudice, they paved the way for their children who went on to dominate politics and the Catholic Church, also rising to the heights of sports, entertainment and business.

My maternal grandfather, Willie Diggin, was among Pittsburgh’s early 20th century Irish immigrants. He left County Kerry and came to the city in May 1913. He did not achieve fame, but nevertheless established a firm foundation in America for his family and subsequent generations.

Starting May 1, I will explore his life in a 12-day series of blog posts titled “Willie’s Emigration Centennial.” I hope you will please give it a read.

image

Her emigration, 100 years ago

One hundred years ago, in mid-September 1912, Honorah Ware boarded the passenger ship S.S. Baltic at Queenstown, Ireland. The 20-year-old farm girl from rural Kilelton townland in northwest Kerry was bound for the American city of Pittsburgh.

Her journey began with a seven-mile trip to the railway station at Listowel. She probably was joined by an 18-year-old girl from nearby Ballylongford who also was bound for relatives in Pittsburgh. The 65-mile trip to Queenstown, now called Cobh, included stops in Tralee, Killarney, Mallow and Cork city.

The young women likely spent a night or two in a boarding house before taking a lighter out to the Baltic anchored in the harbor. Remember, this was five months after the Titanic sank in the icy waters of the north Atlantic. Imagine what must have going through their minds.

The crossing took eight days. Nora and the other passengers were processed at Ellis Island on Sept. 21, 1912. From there she took a 300-mile train trip to Pittsburgh.

Like many young Irish women of the period, Nora spent her early years in America working as a household servant, or domestic. She married a Kerry man in 1924, at age 33, and they had six children, including my mother. In 1959, I became the seventh of Nora’s 12 grandchildren.

Nora died in 1983, shortly after her 93rd birthday. She never lost her Kerry brogue, but she never got back to Ireland, either. I have had the pleasure of walking the north Kerry headlands and Shannon estuary of her birthplace.

At this centennial of her emigration, I honor her memory. God love her.