A clergy and a city under fire

LOCAL HISTORY:NEVER, EVER JUDGE a book by its cover. That is the best advice to give anyone with an interest in books, whether in reading or reviewing them. The Archbishops, Bishops and Priests Who Served in the Archdiocese of Dublin in the 17th Century, by J Anthony Gaughan (Kingdom Books, €15), is just 83 pages long (two are blank at the end, presumably for notes) and with its unwieldy title it might look like an unpromising little book. Instead it is full of richness and reward and will be invaluable for anyone researching the Dublin dioceses or parishes, as it brings together for the first time a list of clergy and bishops working in the archdioceses in the 17th century.

As Prof Eamon Duffy, fellow of Magdalene College, Cambridge, notes in his introduction to the book, the first instalment of the survey appears at a time when the confidence of Irish Catholics in their priests has been shaken by scandal, and when the clergy themselves have been subject to a barrage of often hostile scrutiny and comment. “So a project to trace the history of the clergy is both courageous and salutary. A people ill at ease with their own past, or anxious to forget it, are a people in trouble.”

I admit to knowing little or nothing about the burning of Cork in December 1920 by the Black and Tans until I took up Cork's St Patrick Street: A History, by Antoin O'Callaghan (the Collins Press, €29.99). The book also features concise histories of local institutions, such as the Cork Examinernewspaper (now the Irish Examiner) and the cinemas, for example, which were such a feature of life in the city. Atmospheric and generous photography adds enormously to the book.

THERE IS MUCH enjoyment to be had in the newly published booklets in the Maynooth Local History series. The six to hand are The Donegal Plantation and the Tír Chonail Irish, 1610-1710; The Famine Clearance in Toomevara, Co Tipperary; The Death of Fr John Walsh at Kilgraney: Community Tensions in pre-Famine Carlow; The Shaws of Terenure: A 19th-century Dublin Merchant Family; The Kimmage Garrison 1916: Making Billy-can Bombs at Larkfield;and The Bombing of Dolphin's Barn, Dublin 1941.

Published by Four Courts Press, these are short paperbacks of about 64 pages each; €9.95 per volume. They are the fruits of the research of students in the MA in local history at Maynooth, and each is a gem of conciseness and colour. As the series editor, Prof Raymond Gillespie, says in his introduction, the books range widely over the local experience of the Irish past, from the world of the dispossessed in 17th-century Donegal, or the political activists of Kimmage in 1916 to those who suffered in a different sort of war as their houses were bombed on South Circular Road in 1941.

“Understanding the assumptions, often unspoken, around which these local societies operated is the key to re-creating the world of the Irish past,” says Prof Gillespie. These studies, he adds, are at the forefront of Irish historical research and represent some of the most innovative and exciting work being undertaken in Irish history today

THE SISTERS OF MERCY arrived in Belfast from Dublin in 1854 at a time when, in the wake of the devastating Famine, the town's industrial growth was beginning to present the range of social problems that would become all too common. The problems are outlined in Ulster Women: A Short History 1840-1940, by Micheael Sheane (Arthur Stockwell, £7.99) and The Call of the North: A History of the Sisters of Mercy, Down and Connor Diocese,by Marie Duddy (Ulster Historical Foundation, £19.99).

Urbanisation was rife in Belfast at the time – the population had grown from 20,000 in 1800 to what was becoming a figure of 349,000 by 1900. Marie Duddy’s book is very detailed and thorough, as befits a work by an archivist of the order. It is a practical and workmanlike book chronicling the difficulties and triumphs of more than 100 years of intense effort and the problems of some of the sisters who provided it. It is perhaps too detailed for the general reader, but anyone who has an interest in the women and in the strictures of religious life will find its account of the provision of missing social services and the foundation of institutions such as the Mater Infirmorum hospital fascinating

Michael Sheane’s book is less detailed, but it covers a lot of ground. It reviews the main developments in women’s lives in the North in the 100 years to 1940. It looks first at developments in home-working, an important factor in how women’s working lives developed. Then there is a chapter on education and the work carried out by Belfast Ladies’ Institute. This is followed by a look at political ambition, largely seen from the Young Ireland movement. It’s an intelligent approach that results in a well-organised book.

Though he comes across as a very difficult personality, there is no denying that A Melancholy Truth: The Travels and Travails of Fr Charles Bourke, 1765–1820, by Fr Brendan Hoban (published by Banley House, €25), is of enormous interest. Fr Bourke, an ancestor of former president Mary Robinson, believed he was always right. He ended up being, according to himself, excommunicated. The book ranges from Salamanca, in Spain, where Bourke was educated, to Baton Rouge, in Louisiana, where he travelled after his ordination, to Killala, in Co Mayo, where he became involved in efforts to block the appointment of a Tuam priest, Peter Waldron, as bishop. Based on contemporary correspondence and journals, the book reads more like an adventure story than a dry history book.

Noeleen Dowling is a freelance journalist and local historian