Researching Parish Records in the National Library

My research is getting past the scope of Ireland's civil registers. The next step is parish records, and one place to peruse them is the National Library. This post is mainly to let you know what the experience is like.

As preparation, I wrote down what I knew about certain individuals, and what questions I now wanted to tackle. That set of questions led to making a list of church records I wanted to see. In some cases, they were events for which I already had seen the civil record, and my hope was that the church record would contain some additional information; in other cases, I was hoping to locate a church record for an event for which no civil record existed. My target list had 20 items on it, including some events of which I had some good knowledge, and some which amounted to a trawl.

The National Library gives us an online index of what church records it has on microfilm, and checking that index knocked out some of the items on my wishlist -- there is no point looking for what is not there. I also made note of the index numbers of the microfilms I wanted. At this point I should mention that the library offers a genealogy advisory service, which is free and for which no appointment is necessary. It struck me that if I could not make an appointment, there might be a delay in getting service, so I decided to be in a position to operate as much as I could without seeking assistance.

Equipped with my list of questions, microfilm reference numbers, and notebook and pens, I betook myself to the National Library on Kildare Street. Through the main door, and the Genealogy Research Room is clearly signposted, up a short flight of stairs. When I started up the stairs, the desk porter called me back and instructed me to deposit my bag in a locker -- so don't go there with bulky files that you want to use on site. In the research room, I felt some vindication: the advisor there had just been collared by three American visitors who seemed set to engage him for some time. On looking around, what I needed seemed straightforward enough: the microfilms are stored in cabinets, clearly marked with index numbers, and are on open access, and all I needed to do was open the appropriate drawer and take out the box containing the film I wanted. The microfilm readers are in a nearby room. If you have not used one before, and need advice on how they work, I am sure that you can enlist the help of somebody who is using one (remember, though, that it is a library and some people do not like to be interrupted, so try to judge who seems approachable).

And then away you go.

I found copies of varying quality, which is only to be expected with records that are over 100 years old. Handwriting style also varied greatly, with some scripts being quite difficult to read (I was lucky, in that all the records in which I was interested, with one marginal exception, were quite legible). The layout of records in the latter part of the nineteenth century was somewhat standardised; earlier records seem less so, and generally contain less information. As I worked, I managed to answer some of my questions, failed to answer some others, and discovered that yet others were redundant (why look for a birth record for somebody in Parish A when you unexpectedly learn that she actually came from Parish Z?).

So how productive was my visit? First, I found it tremenduously interesting and enjoyable. Judged functionally, it was also highly productive. It would be awkward, and redundant, to describe for you all that I learned in my four-hour visit. As a crude indicator, I can tell you that I have managed to discover the names of four great-great-grandparents that I had not already known (count one as a half-point, because I had counted it as a possible, but am now sure of it). And I have generated some more questions, which will be the basis of a further visit.