Dairy of James Burke-Gaffney

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Josephine, as she was then and always will be to my fondest recollections, and I were the guests of the nuns the day we had the happiness to receive our Holy Communions. They dressed her in the garb of a little nun for that event, which may have inspired her young mind to adopt the habit later in life. I can still remember the trouble the sisters were put to in keeping me out of mischief that blessed day and how happy they felt when our Mother called for us in the evening.  In the afternoon we were brought into the mortuary chapel to pray for the souls of the deceased sisters whose coffins were cemented into receptacles in the surrounding walls. In an inquiring frame of mind I lifted a little lid on the altar and discovered the altar stone which I was examining with interest when discovered by the sisters to their horror. I was brought immediately before the chaplain who must have let me off with a very light sentence, as I cannot now remember his reproof for my curiosity.  For the remainder of the day I was put in guard of two sisters to keep me out of mischief. Within the past month my sister Columba has been made Rev. Mother of a new convent opened at Head fort, about ten miles from Tuam where she has been over thirty years. I have not heard from her in her new home.

Next to Josephine was poor Walter who died at a very early age, about 18 years. He gave promise of being the handsomest of the boys singularly graceful and attractive, of most refined mind and manners. I was sincerely attached to him and felt very proud of him whenever he accompanied me at any public gathering. He commenced early to study medicine and had passed his first year in hospital work when stricken typhoid fever attending an old nurse who was in hospital with this disease. His early death affected me extremely, and he died in my arms. I was the one of the family permitted to be near him during his illness, as on the night he first showed symptoms of the disease he had awakened as if disturbed by a nightmare, and came into my bed where I calmed him to sleep. Next morning the doctor declared it was typhoid or more probably typhus fever, and we were quarantined from the rest of the household. He is buried in the cemetery of Boyle, les Rossevinmore, Ireland.

Marguerite was next to Walter. I am now approaching the younger members of the family who have grown up since I left home. She gave promise of being a very fine woman. She was unusually grave and dignified for her years as she was not yet even sweet sixteen when I last saw her; she was even then as tall as any of her sisters, and did not show any of the peculiar Burke characteristics.  I have heard my aunts Margaret and Anne say she bore a most striking resemblance to Father's first wife, Mary 0'Brian. This may have been only imaginary, but she certainly resembled more the Gaffney side of the family than any of the girls.  Brother Tom, who is of an artistic nature, writing me a few years after I left home, said in a recent visit he had paid there that he thought she was the loveliest and most graceful girl he had seen as she glided down to the gate to greet him, she was dressed all in white. All I know about her now is that she is a governess in some family in France. I do not even know her address.  I must have grown out of the recollections of the younger brothers and sisters, and perhaps seem to them as a myth of a brother, as one dead and partly forgotten. Perhaps if we were to meet again the long forgotten associations of early youth might be formed into a warmer friendship if not love.  I cannot picture them in my mind's eye other than the little loved ones left behind. I was then as fond of children as I have been in later years, and I know they were dearly attached to me, as I was more at home than any of my brothers;  I was looked upon and called "The Young Master" by the kindly peasantry of the neighborhood, my brothers being considered visitors only on their annual vacations.  I was called "Sir Galahad" by my sisters on account of my devotion to them, and hence I feel these younger ones loved me as I loved them.

Chapter 12

Next came Anastasia as she was baptised, I believe, but her name was intended to be Austice after her aunt, but I believe there is no Latin equivalent for this -- hence "Anastasia".  She was peculiarly dear to me, I remember, such another little fairy as Monica is now when I left home.  She went out to India to visit John and Jessie, and there met married a young English officer of a regiment stationed there named Alfred Bulkley of a fine old family of wealth of Leicestershire, I believe. They have a large family, I understand. Their eldest son is now in the Indian Army.  Captain Bulkley has retired from the Service, having been wounded in East Africa during the Boer War. They are now temporarily residing in Dublin, where Annie, as we always called her, is having. her children educated, notwithstanding her acquired prejudice against the Irish.  Her faith it seems is still greater than this supposed prejudice as she wishes her children to be educated in a more Catholic atmosphere than in the surroundings of their non-Catholic relatives in England, Bulkley being a Protestant but faithfully having the children brought Catholics. They are a lovely family I learn from the correspondence with my other brothers and sisters who know them. Annie is another of them who never writes to me.

Charles comes next to Annie. He is another physician. Four brothers have studied medicine. There were many doctors on Mothers side. She had an uncle, a brother, nephew  and cousins, all doctors of medicine. Charles of course was also very young when I left home. He was in his second year at St. Jarloth's college in Tuam, Co. Galway when he came to America. He was rather undersized for his age as I remember him and was about the smallest boy then at his college. The great McHale, Archbishop of Tuam, who was a life-long friend of my Father's house, took a great interest in Charles and had him serve his mass every day. His Grace hoped I believe that he might develop a vocation for the priesthood, but Charles preferred to study surgery and entered the Royal College of Surgeons in Dublin at an unusually early age. He took a brilliant course and carried off every honor of his classes. So much had he advanced, he was encouraged to enter for his examination a year ahead of his time by his professors. He passed with such success that he not only carried off the highest honors attainable in the famous college, but he was voted a considerable library of his professional books by the faculty, and was immediately appointed junior demonstrator in Anatomy in his Alma Mater. This was considered unprecedented in the history of the college, which is considered the highest college of surgeons in the British Isles. Students who fail in passing examinations, in this college often go to Edinburgh College pull through there. Hence to be able to attach R.C.S.D. to one's name was considered very honorable.

He sprung into very high reputation soon and his practice became very large, and in addition to his surgery he became very successful as a "coacher" for young men preparing them for examinations. He worked too hard and his health broke down, and was advised to take a complete rest for some months. In the meantime he had married a distant relative of ours, Mary Griffin, and had three or four children born to their union. One of these died and is buried in the family lot at Glasnevin near Dublin where Father and Mother are buried.  To attain this complete rest, he took a voyage in a sailing vessel to Australia. His fame had reached there ahead of him, and on arrival there he was offered and accepted the professorship of surgery in the medical college of Melbourne. The climate agreeing with him and liking the country, he sent for his family, and they have resided there since.

 I have not heard of him for many years. The last letter I had from him was an application for some money he said he needed to help him with his college course.  I sent him a hundred and fifty dollars to him through his brother Tom, thinking it might be more profitably spent for his benefit by Tom, who already had borne the principle expenses of his college course. Tom applied this money to the necessary expenses of his graduation. Charles was so offended that I did not send it direct to him, considering I some doubt of his using it properly -- although being the beneficiary this gift he never wrote to thank me, and this created a breach which has not since been bridged, although I have written him a few letters which he never acknowledged. It is strange that a generous impulse on my part was so little appreciated by him. He, though, was too young when I left home for him to remember me with other than the most abstract feelings of affection.