More Extraordinary Ordinary Women

We launched Karen Minihan’s new book, More Extraordinary Ordinary Women, on St Brigid’s Day. The date was apt – Brigid was a woman venerated in her time, who founded the ecclesiastical city of Kildare and ruled benevolently over a vast monastic empire, but still lost out as Patron Saint of Ireland to a man. However, we now have a brand new public holiday in her honour and I think all the women in this book would be pleased about that.

Here are May and Tess Buckley from Gortbreac in Castlehaven, who get a chapter each in this book, with their brother. They showed remarkable courage and resourcefulness – they also happen to be directly related to Ellen Buckley, O’Donovan Rossa’s second wife.

This is a follow-up to Karen’s first book, Extraordinary, Ordinarily Women, and I can’t emphasise enough the importance of the work that she has done with these two books. She has brought the lives of strong courageous women out of the shadows, and challenged the prevailing narrative that elevated the role of the male volunteers and members of the IRA over the parts played by everyone else. It’s not an exaggeration to say that women’s stories were more than neglected but that they were actively suppressed.

Tess Buckley’s telescope – she used it to identify any approaching military or police movements from afar

When the Military Service Pensions were established in 1924, women were explicitly excluded. Ten years later they were included in Military Service Pension Act 1934, which established five grades of service – A B C D and E, but relegated women to grades D or E. To get a D pension you had to be a Member of the headquarters staff or executive of Cumann na mBan OR in command of one hundred members or more. To get an E pension you had to prove you were in active service. They didn’t make it easy – requests for more information, for verification and letters of support – it often got so wearying that the women stopped pushing or said simply they had nothing more to add.

This is Mary Anne O’Sullivan of Bere Island on her wedding day. The situation on Bere Island was very difficult due to the presence of a British Army Camp (there until 1937) and Mary Anne showed great courage and presence of mind in hiding an escaped IRA prisoner

Many of them never spoke about their experiences, which made Karen’s research all the more daunting. This generation is only now discovering what their grandmothers and great-aunts did, sometimes by perusing the Pension files, or by discovering old documents in attics. Four of the stories in this book involve sisters – in Molly Walsh’s story Karen notes:

Molly did not speak of her experiences during this time to the generations that followed, she only spoke to her own siblings, sometimes they would go into a separate room to talk.

One of Molly’s great friends was Dorothy Stopford Price (above), who came from a landed Protestant family but spent time in Kilbritain teaching first aid at first and then as the community doctor and as medical officer to the local IRA Brigade. As an aside, although Dorothy pioneered the treatment and vaccination for TB in Ireland (below), all you ever hear about is the role played by a man, Noel Brown.

You have to read the book yourself to see how daring, brave and well-organised these women were, but I do want to tell you something of the story of Kathleen O’Connell of Ballydehob, who lived in a house two doors down from Working Artists’ Studio where we launched the book. She was an incredible woman – here are just some of her accomplishments, taken from Karen’s book.

In the Nominal Rolls of Cumann na mBan she is recorded as Captain of the Ballydehob branch and, by 1921, she was the Treasurer of Schull District Council (including Ballydehob), which had 114 members. What is also apparent is that she was trusted with possessing and delivering the secret, important information that the dispatches contained. And, of course, it meant that she put her own safety at risk. There is also a record of Kathleen being involved in setting up four or five “hospitals” in her area.

There was raid after raid.

During a Black and Tan raid on the town which occurred immediately after the vols. had been here (the house was reported) I had a large quantity of ammunition got by the volunteers in some raids on ex-policemen’s houses and elsewhere which was left to me to dump but I hadn’t got time…I got it out of the house by putting it in a large hand-basket and covering it with cabbage & bread. I went more or less in disguise wearing a shawl & long skirt, to get out of town to the dump, or safety somewhere, I had to ask the sentry for permission to get through… 

The village of Ballydehob was surrounded. She was sent by the sentry to the officer in charge and she managed to convince him to let her through …as I said I wanted to take bread home to children; all this time I had the basket of ammunition and some literature. I went about a mile with it. She had two loaded revolvers, a holster and some clips of bullets; and the consequences of being caught were stark: They would have shot me probably if they had discovered it.

I took part in an ambush which was laid at Barry’s Mill. Took out food a couple of times during the day alone, in Wood’s commandeered horse & trap, also took dispatches which arrived while they were there

She also scouted for the Volunteers that day, travelling back and forth to the mill. 

On the last trip I went out there, alarm was given of the approach of the enemy. I could not then get back. Commandant Lehane gave me his 45 revolver and I remained their with the others for a considerable time, until it was reported the military had gone some other way. . . 

17 lorries and private car with a ‘lady searcher’ arrived around this time in Ballydehob in order to search her and her home. She had been anticipating the visit – “I had everything dumped but the dispatch. It was in my pocket. I ate it.”

This is the house – the colourful one on the right in this picture – in which Kathleen O’Connell lived in Ballydehob

Kathleen was ruined financially by all her support for the cause. Letters of support for her pension application were fulsome in praise of her work and her commitment. She was awarded a grade E pension in 1939. She died, here in 1945, aged 50. She had not married and had  no children, and all memory of her gradually disappeared from Ballydehob. When Karen went looking for the house she had lived in, it seemed nobody could remember the heroic Kathleen O’Connell who had once lived here.

Another view of the house in Ballydehob, from Google Maps. There should be a plaque!

However dangerous Cumman na mBan activities were during the War of Independence, those dangers tripled during the Civil war, as did the horrors of families ripped apart. Cumman na mBan took an anti-treaty stance, and where they now supported all the efforts of the anti-treaty side, the pro-treaty fighters knew all their secrets, their hiding places and their habits. They had to be, therefore triply ingenious – and they were!

Another reason why now was an apt time to Karen to release this book is that we are facing an upcoming referendum. In the 1937 Constitution, heavily influenced by the Catholic Church – Archbishop McQuaid (above with deValera) submitted multiple comments and suggestions for amendments – DeValera and his government included this provision:

ARTICLE 41:2: In particular, the State recognises that by her life within the home, woman gives to the State a support without which the common good cannot be achieved.

This felt like a deep betrayal to many women of Ireland, who had rallied to the cause taking as their inspiration the words of the 1916 Proclamation, which said: The Republic guarantees religious and civil liberty, equal rights and equal opportunities to all its citizens, and declares its resolve to pursue the happiness and prosperity of the whole nation and of all its parts, cherishing all the children of the nation equally.

The cover of Dublin Opinion in June 1937. Queen Maeve and Grainne Mhaol are poking the sleeping deValera, who has the Constitution, Bunreacht na hÉireann, under his pillow

The upcoming referendum asks us to vote to remove the wording of Article 41:2. It’s 2024 – 100 years since these extraordinary ordinary women were playing their part in the founding of the state, only to be banished to a life within the home.

I like to think that Kathleen O’Connell, Lizzie Murphy, Tess and May Buckley, Molly Walsh and Dorothy Stopford Price, and all the other Extraordinary Women, are up there in heaven, chatting to one another over pots of tea, and casting a protective eye over the campaign to remove article 41. When it’s voted out, I see them nodding their heads and saying at least all our work wasn’t in vain.

I was honoured to be asked to launch the book!

Let’s all get out and vote for this constitutional amendment! It’s the best way we can honour the work that these extraordinary women did. That – and buy Karen’s book! It’s available in bookstores in West Cork or by contacting the author.

Christmas Cribs Revisited

This is a re-working of a post from way back in 2013. I had moved back to Ireland not long before and I was still noticing everything that was novel to me after spending most of my adult life in Canada. I hardly notice the cribs now: after so many years back, they have become as familiar as the rocks and gorse that surround us. So here, slightly edited and with some newer photographs, is that post I wrote when I was still in the throes of rediscovering my heritage.

In this part of Ireland putting up a nativity scene (like the one in Bantry town square, above) at Christmas time is as natural as breathing. Known as cribs, they appear everywhere at the beginning of December. Every Irish home has one, perhaps passed down through the generations, and they come out from the attic storage boxes along with the decorations to be displayed in a window or on a mantlepiece or hall table. Even for families that consider themselves non-religious, the crib is an essential part of getting a house ready for Christmas. There’s one for every nook or sideboard and one for every budget.

One for every budget

Large cribs are erected in town squares and in churches. Although bigger nativity scenes like these are usually locked for security and contain the complete assemblage, sometimes the figures in a church crib will be inserted slowly, one a day, in little ceremonies involving children. Traditionally, the baby Jesus, was not placed in the manger until Christmas Eve. The crib below was spied in Cork Airport.

But take a closer look – the baby Jesus isn’t there yet – obviously the airport folk are sticking to tradition.

Live cribs, where the nativity figures and animals are real, are often mounted as fundraisers. We attended one in Skibbereen where our entry ticket came with a carrot for the donkey. The animals were live, but Mary, Joseph and the baby were mannequins, explained by the attendants as due to the difficulty of keeping Mary off her mobile.

Here and there you can spot cribs in private gardens. I love this one (above) with it’s cheerful addition of Santa and his reindeer. There is even, in Dublin, the Moving Crib – an institution that generations of Irish children will remember and which is still going strong 60 years after it was first introduced as a Christmas exhibit in a church basement. Take a look at this RTÉ segment about it in 1963 – it will transport you back to the innocence of childhood wonder.

Rosie's Pub in Ballydehob

Many businesses clear their window displays to feature the crib at Christmas – along with Santa, reindeer and the usual holly and candles. Shops, hairdressers, garages, pubs: it’s universal and it’s all a reminder that Ireland, which now prides itself on its multi-cultural and pluralistic society, still cherishes the old Catholic customs.

Outside the Catholic Church in Schull

A striking aspect of Irish cribs, such as the one in Schull above, is their conventional character: lifelike (and sometimes life-sized) representation is the norm. Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds and kings, the cow and the donkey are all instantly recognisable and similar, as if stamped out by the same crib-figure factory in Italy.

In Ballydehob

As I considered this, a memory stirred and I went hunting on the internet for more information. In 1964 a new church was built at Dublin Airport. Named, suitably, Our Lady Queen of Heaven it was a beautiful piece of mid-century modern architecture designed by an Irish architect, Andrew Devane, who had studied under Frank Lloyd Wright. For Christmas 1966 a new crib was installed, designed by Dublin artist Fergus O’Farrell. Consisting of minimalist, highly stylised all white figures it created a sensation at the time. I am going on my memory in describing them, as the only image I can find in the internet is impossible to make out. My father, who worked at the airport and who was very proud of the church, brought us to see the crib that Christmas.

Alas, it was all too much for the Archbishop of Dublin, the famous John Charles McQuaid (that’s him, above with President Éamon De Valera – together keeping Ireland devout). Decreeing that it was beneath the level of human dignity and that its presence was an offence against Canon Law, he ordered it removed. This sentiment was echoed in the Irish parliament (Dáil Éireann) by the Minister for Public Works of the day, Oliver Flanagan. He said: A crib in modern design was erected at Dublin Airport last winter. The Archbishop of Dublin ordered it to be removed. The images could be described as anything but the kind of images one associates with the Christmas crib. We must have modern art. We must have proper designs for memorials and statues in keeping with the present and the past. Monuments commemorating the past must resemble the past.

I can’t imagine this happening today in Ireland and perhaps there are now many modern and unique cribs around the country. But I certainly haven’t found any so far in West Cork.

But we have moved on! Here’s Fr Buckley, Schull parish priest, and Rev Steve McCann, Ballydehob Church of Ireland Minister, jointly blessing the crib and turning on the Christmas lights in 2017.

Christmas Cribs

Bantry Town Square

Bantry Town Square

In this part of Ireland putting up a nativity scene at Christmas time is as natural as breathing. Known as cribs, they appear everywhere at the beginning of December. Every Irish home has one, perhaps passed down through the generations, and they come out from the attic storage boxes along with the decorations to be displayed in a window or on a mantlepiece or hall table. Even for families that consider themselves non-religious, the crib is an essential part of getting a house ready for Christmas.

One for every budget

One for every budget

Large cribs are erected in town squares and in churches. Sometimes the figures in a church crib will be inserted slowly, one a day, in little ceremonies involving children. Traditionally, the baby Jesus, was not placed in the manger until Christmas Eve. Live cribs, where the nativity figures and animals are alive, are often mounted as fundraisers. I wrote about the Skibbereen one last year. There is even, in Dublin, the Moving Crib – an institution that generations of Irish children will remember and which is still going strong almost 60 years after it was first introduced as a Christmas wonder in a church basement.

Rosie's Pub in Ballydehob

Rosie’s Pub in Ballydehob

Many businesses clear their window displays to feature the crib at Christmas – along with Santa, reindeer and the usual holly and candles. Shops, hairdressers, garages, pubs: it’s universal and it’s all a reminder that Ireland, which now prides itself on its multi-cultural and pluralistic society, is still at heart a traditional Catholic country.

Outside the Catholic Church in Schull

Outside the Catholic Church in Schull

A striking aspect of Irish cribs is their conventional character: lifelike (and sometimes life-sized) representation is the norm. Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds and kings, the cow and the donkey are all instantly recognisable and similar, as if stamped out by the same crib-figure factory in Italy.

In Ballydehob

In Ballydehob

John Charles McQuaid and Eamon DeValera - together keeping Ireland devout

John Charles McQuaid and Eamon DeValera – together keeping Ireland devout*

As I considered this, a memory stirred and I went hunting on the internet for more information. In 1964 a new church was built at Dublin Airport. Named, suitably, “Our Lady Queen of Heaven” it was a beautiful piece of mid-century modern architecture designed by an Irish architect, Andrew Devane, who had studied under Frank Lloyd Wright. For Christmas 1966 a new crib was installed. Consisting of minimalist, highly stylised all white figures (I am going by memory here – I can’t find any pictures of it on the internet) it created a sensation at the time. My father, who worked at the airport and who was very proud of the church, brought us to see it. Alas, it was all too much for the Archbishop of Dublin, the famous John Charles McQuaid. Decreeing that it was “beneath the level of human dignity” and that its presence was an offence against Canon Law, he ordered it removed. This sentiment was echoed in the Irish parliament (Dáil Éireann) by the Minister for Public Works of the day, Oliver Flanagan. He said: A crib in modern design was erected at Dublin Airport last winter. The Archbishop of Dublin ordered it to be removed. The images could be described as anything but the kind of images one associates with the Christmas crib. We must have modern art. We must have proper designs for memorials and statues in keeping with the present and the past. Monuments commemorating the past must resemble the past.

I can’t imagine this happening today in Ireland and perhaps there are now many modern and unique cribs around the country. But I certainly haven’t found any so far in West Cork.

How's this for a modern crib?

How’s this for a modern crib?

*From the Irish Independent Website