How I Came to Write the Dragon Books

Rev. J. Davison Cowan was the rector of a small church in Ireland. He died over a century before I was born. Yet this man changed my life. He wrote a history of what he called "An Ancient Irish Parish." A copy of this book with its faded green binding was part of my father's library no matter where we lived. When I was quite young, I became aware that this book mentioned my grandfather, something I thought was quite special. But it was only after I was grown and became fascinated with family history that I paid attention to something else Rev. Cowan mentioned in his book. On page 328, he mentioned that a James Harshaw of Ringbane "kept a diary for many years." Without Rev. Cowan's book, I would never have known that the diaries existed.

The full account of how I discovered the location of the diaries and learned about how perilously close to destruction they had come is told in the introduction of Dueling Dragons. Suffice to record here, I was able to get the diaries, read them with great interest, and finally ensure that they were preserved on microfilm for future generations. Then, I took them back to Ireland and donated them to the Public Record Office of Northern Ireland where proper preservation techniques would preserve the originals diaries as well. A photo of the presentation of the diaries appears below.

James Harshaw included many references to his sister's son, John Martin. Rev. Cowan had mentioned in his book that John was a prominent Irish leader. "With his political views we are wholly in disagreement, but recognise nevertheless, that he was honest (though mistaken) in his convictions." Who was this man who might be related to me? What did he contribute to Irish history? Clearly his opinions were rejected by Rev. Cowan, and I suspected most of his neighbors as well.

Hungry to learn more about John and his uncle James Harshaw, I began to search for a more complete story of these two men. Fortunately, a widely circulated newspaper for the nearby town of Newry existed and was available on microfilm in London. I bought a second hand microfilm reader, and began to order reels of Irish newspapers, year by year, beginning in 1828 and extending till 1875. The editor at the time was George Henderson, a very skilled writer with very strongly held political opinions. His political beliefs were totally contrary to either James or John. I needed to understand George in order to properly understand the turmoil of mid nineteenth century Ireland.

In 1992, my husband and I were taking our first trip to Ireland to visit the places my family had come from. The first part of our vacation was spent in County Cavan where my mother's parents were born. Then we were scheduled to travel to Belfast to research in PRONI, the Public Record Office of Northern Ireland. During that transition day, we had time to hunt for the place in County Armagh where my particular branch of the Harshaw family came from. After failing to find any sign of the family, we headed for Belfast. However, we had time to stop in the little town of Poyntzpass where I knew someone with the Harshaw name currently lived.

That proved to be another disappointment as well. No one was home to answer my knock. I was turning away when a car pulled up in front of the house. An older man got out and asked if he could help me. I pulled out a picture of my great grandfather by way of introduction and showed it to him. "Ah, I know," he replied.

Hugh Harshaw invited us into his house for tea. He explained that he had a copy of a small pamphlet my grandfather had written about his father who emigrated to America. Then he went to a shelf an pulled out another book, another copy of Rev. Cowen"s book, and turned to the page about James Harshaw's diaries. "This is my great grandfather. He said that he and his brother James had hunted all their lives for the diaries, without success. I was so honored to be the person who was able to tell Hugh the news. "I know where the diaries are." When I saw the look on his face, I knew that I would do everything I could to get those diaries back to Ireland, so Hugh and his brothers could sit by their fires and finally read them.