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BreakingNews.ie
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- BreakingNews.ie
Eva Gore-Booth: The overlooked sister of Constance Markievicz
Constance Markievicz, also known as Countess Markievicz, has been solidified as an extremely important figure in Irish history. An Irish revolutionary nationalist politician, suffragist, and socialist, Markievicz was the first woman elected to the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Advertisement She was a founding member of Fianna Éireann, Cumann na mBan, and the Irish Citizen Army. She also took part in the Easter Rising in 1916, and sexism worked in her favour as she was spared execution just for being a woman. She is well-known to most Irish people, and is seen as a leading figure in the fight for Irish independence and social reform. Constance's younger sister Eva Gore-Booth is not half as well-known as her. But her achievements are impressive too. The EPIC Irish Emigration Museum said Gore-Booth is "an icon of suffrage, trade unionism, nationalism and LGBTQ+ defiance". Advertisement So, who was Eva Gore-Booth? Compared to Constance, who is reported to have been wiley, strong-willed and vocal, Eva was quieter, graceful, and empathetic. According to their governess, Eva was 'always so delicate' and often let her older sister overshadow her. EPIC said Gore-Booth was by no means a passive person, despite not minding blending quietly into the background. "She was deeply passionate, a fact that is probably most evident in her poetry and she was a fierce campaigner for women's rights, worker's rights and animal rights throughout her life." Advertisement Gore-Booth is said to have fell in love with folk-telling and Irish lore, and became a poet when Constance left for France to study art. "Eva herself travelled, although her home was still in Sligo," EPIC said. "That was until she met English suffragist and social justice campaigner Esther Roper. Whilst travelling in 1896, Gore-Booth fell ill and moved to Bordighera in Italy to recover. "It was here that she met Esther Roper, who was also recovering from an illness. The two fell hopelessly in love." Advertisement This is where Gore-Booth's status as an icon of LGBTQ+ defiance starts. In a time where being gay was a punishable crime, Eva Gore-Booth and Esther Roper defied societal norms by being openly devoted to each other. "Gore-Booth returned to Sligo and Roper to Manchester in 1897. They were barely apart for a few months when Gore-Booth uprooted her aristocratic life to live in Manchester with Roper," EPIC said. The museum said Gore-Booth's queer relationship had no effect on her relationship with Constance. Advertisement Eva and Constance. Photo: Lissadell House "Constance was very fond of Roper too, writing that 'Esther is wonderful, and the more one knowns her, the more one loves her'. "Roper and Gore-Booth came from completely different worlds. Roper's parents were working-class Irish immigrants, her father was a factory hand who moved to England during the industrial revolution. "Roper was a highly intelligent child and became the first woman to graduate from the University of Manchester. "Her compassion for working class women and her activism for the causes of suffrage and labour rights further inspired Gore-Booth to become involved in those social causes herself." Women's suffrage, Irish independence, and death During her brief return to Sligo, Eva Gore-Booth called the first women's suffrage meeting in a local hall in December 1896. Though the meeting was scoffed at by new outlets at the time, EPIC said Eva was far from deterred from supporting the cause of suffrage. An article in Vanity Fair stated how the 'three pretty daughters of Sir Henry Gore-Booth are creating a little excitement… supported by a few devoted yokels', never anticipating how the Gore-Booth sisters would create much more than a 'little excitement' in society. "Esther Roper lit the fire in Eva Gore-Booth that ignited a life-long devotion to social causes. Eva's poetry is often politically charged, poems like The Anti-Suffragist being a short but particularly scathing commentary on those who turn a blind-eye to injustice," EPIC said. "Though Eva was living abroad, she never forgot her ties to the Ireland, being outspoken in favour of Irish Independence. "When Constance Markeivicz was captured in 1916, Gore-Booth and Roper smuggled themselves into a Dublin on lock-down to visit her in Kilmainham Gaol. "Following her release from Aylesbury Prison, the couple met her and brought her back to their London home at 33 Fitzroy Square, which became known as a hub of Irish Nationalism in London." In the 1920s, it was found that Eva Gore-Booth had terminal colon cancer. She begged Roper to keep it from Constance and it was Roper's brother and Roper herself that cared for Eva in her final days. "She passed in 1926, the news coming as a shock to Constance, who was too bereft to attend the funeral," EPIC said. "She herself died a year later in 1927, arguably of a broken heart, though not before writing in a letter to a friend that she was 'so glad that Eva and [Esther] were together. So thankful that her love was with Eva until the end'. "Esther Roper died in 1938 and is buried with Eva Gore-Booth in London. The inscription on their headstone is 'Life with Love is God'."
Irish Times
14-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
What did you do if you were young, Irish and idealistic 60 years ago? You joined the missions
A cartoonish version of Irish history portrays priests and nuns as conservative, and the general public as relatively liberal or progressive. But then how do you explain Br Kevin Crowley (90), the Franciscan friar who was remembered at his funeral as a 'tireless advocate' for the most vulnerable in society? Or how do you explain Sr Mary Kileen, a fearless campaigner for children's right in Kenya who features in a new RTÉ documentary series, The Last Irish Missionaries? Becoming a missionary doesn't sound very woke. But it was the sort of thing you did if you were young, Irish and idealistic 60-plus years ago. At the age of 16, Killeen was set to get married to a farmer with 'a lovely tractor, a lovely house', she explains to presenter Dearbhail McDonald in the series. 'It could have been a beautiful life ... He became the richest man in that district.' Instead Killeen went back to school, trained as a teacher and joined the Sisters of Mercy. She has spent her life since working for neglected children in Nairobi, helping to establish a string of schools while also blowing the whistle on cases of clerical child sex abuse. The first major wave of Irish Catholic missionaries a century ago were largely focused on 'saving souls' but gradually they moved into education, healthcare and social justice. Evangelisation is a dirty word today. But for many Irish missionaries, it meant demonstrating in practical ways what it meant to be Christian. By the time of Vatican II in the 1960s, the Irish missionary credo was that of Francis of Assisi: 'Preach the Gospel everywhere, and if necessary use words.' The influence of Irish missionaries could be seen in Ireland's official aid programme as well as the founding of agencies such as Trócaire, Goal and Concern. The latter was started by Spiritan priests Fr Jack and Aengus Finucane. Bob Geldof , who went to a Spiritan-run school, became friends with the Finucanes, as did Bono . The U2 singer said Jack Finucane 'turned my life upside down' when he met the priest on a trip to Ethiopia shortly after the Live Aid concert in July 1985; the visit 'began my life as an activist', Bono later said. Bob Geldof with Bono and other performers at the Live Aid concert in July 1985 at Wembley Stadium in London. Photograph: BBC/Brook Lapping/Mirrorpix via Getty It is worth remembering these positive influences at a time when basic human values are under attack. The Trump administration is dismantling the US Agency for International Development under the pretext of combating 'liberal' ideology and reducing wasteful spending. A study in the Lancet last month estimated the agency's closure could result in more than 14 million additional deaths by 2030. 'If this isn't murder, I don't know what is,' Bono said in a message to USAid staff on their last day of work. 'It's not left-wing rhetoric to feed the hungry, heal the sick.' [ Spiritans' promise of redress must be 'substantiated by actions', says abuse survivors group Opens in new window ] Within Trump's political movement, only the Maga ideology is tolerated – everyone else is an extremist, corrupting the minds of Americans. You may think Pope Leo XIV is a reasonable sort of chap – he worked with the poor in Peru for more than a decade, and has urged people to ' to be missionaries ... of true love for a suffering world'. But, no, according to social media activist and Trump loyalist Laura Loomer, the new pope is 'a total Marxist like Pope Francis'. Evangelising on diversity, equity and inclusion has become particularly fraught in the US, with a purge ongoing in education. Last month University of Virginia president James E Ryan was forced out of his job due to an 'overt commitment to social equity'. Jim Bacon, a conservative commentator who led the charge against Ryan, explained: 'Pursuing social justice, as opposed to focusing on the core mission, means that instead of educating kids, he's indoctrinating them.' Away from the divisive rhetoric of US politics, we in Ireland have our own reconciliation to make with agents of 'indoctrination'. There is a live debate about whether to overhaul school patronage. About 90 per cent of primary schools and half of secondary schools have a Catholic patron. Is it time to run them from the door? [ Churches are half-empty. So why does the Catholic Church still control so many of our primary schools? Opens in new window ] One possible solution is for Catholic schools to evangelise but not indoctrinate. In other words, all the St Marys and St Patricks would retain their Catholic identities – and demonstrate their Christian ethos through the good example of the school community. But crucially, faith formation, and especially sacramental preparation, would take place outside the school gates. This would be a win-win. It would end the anomaly of the State paying teachers' salaries to instruct pupils in Catholic Church teaching. But it would allow Catholic patrons to remain in place – and to evangelise, in the best missionary tradition, by modelling what it is to live a Christian life. [ A teacher writes: Sacramental preparation should not be a school responsibility Opens in new window ] The Kenyan environmentalist Wangari Maathai , who in 2004 became the first African woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize, was taught by Loreto sisters – they had set up a school in Limuru in the 1930s for girls who would otherwise go without an education. Maathai credited a Kilkenny woman, Sr Colombiere Kelly, with giving her both a love of science and a sense of social responsibility. Kelly died in 2021 in Nairobi aged 101. 'After my education by the nuns,' Maathai later wrote, 'I emerged as a person who believed that society is inherently good and that people generally act for the best.' If that's evangelisation, let's have some more. * The Last Irish Missionaries is broadcast on RTÉ One tonight at 9.35pm, with the second episode next Monday.
Irish Times
06-07-2025
- General
- Irish Times
A portrait of Robert Dudley Edwards by his doting granddaughter turns out to be gripping, unconventional and searingly honest
Robert (Robin) Dudley Edwards was a towering presence in Irish academic life for almost half a century in the course of which he helped change the way our history is taught and written. His lasting achievements are embodied in the history archive at UCD and the National Archives , which was established at his urging. Dudley, as almost everybody called him, was a familiar figure to generations of UCD students between the 1950s and the 1980s, and not just those who studied history. His striking, unconventional appearance – white hair sticking up on his balding head – combined with a high-pitched voice, made him an unforgettable character. His reputation was not confined to the university. Dudley was a well-known public figure during his lifetime, writing for newspapers, appearing on television and hobnobbing with successive taoisigh, while pestering them for more funding for the universities. His granddaughter Neasa MacErlean has written a biography of him with the provocative title Telling the Truth is Dangerous: How Robert Dudley Edwards Changed Irish History Forever. READ MORE This biography of an important, larger-than-life figure by a doting granddaughter defies expectations. It is a gripping read as unconventional as Dudley himself, searingly honest in telling the truth, warts and all, about the life of the historian and his family, including the author. Despite a promise to his wife, he started drinking in the late 1940s, and at times his drinking became a public embarrassment As a history student in UCD in the early 1970s, I experienced Dudley's impact on the department he had moulded. There was an excitement about studying history through questioning and debate, by which he had made the history department the most dynamic in the arts faculty. Dudley didn't just engage with the students in lectures or tutorials. He took an active part in the social life of the college. I recall him at the annual student history congresses drinking and dancing away into the small hours, behaving more like an undergraduate than a professor. When Dudley got married, he promised his wife that he would never drink alcohol because of the way her father had behaved violently when drunk. However, he started drinking in the late 1940s, and at times in subsequent decades his drinking became a public embarrassment. Everything about Dudley was unconventional, beginning with his birth in Dublin in 1909. His parents, Walter Edwards, an English man, and Bridget Teresa McInerney, a nurse from Co Clare, met in London. Walter was already married but separated from his wife, and he and Bridget moved to Dublin and set up home. Everybody, including their children, assumed they were married. It was only shortly before his death in 1946 that Walter revealed the secret to his son. History was Dudley's favourite subject from an early age. He took first place in Ireland in the subject in final school exams of 1926 and went on to study history in UCD, achieving a first-class honours degree in 1929. After completing his MA in 1931 he was awarded a scholarship to enable him to study for a doctorate at King's College, London. It was there that he struck up a friendship with fellow student Theodore Moody from Belfast. Dudley was awarded a doctorate in 1933 and published an extensively revised version of his thesis as Church and State in Tudor Ireland in 1935. It was a groundbreaking work. From the beginning Dudley had his heart set on an academic career but despite being elected as a member of the Royal Irish Academy in 1936, a suitable post was hard to find. By that stage he was married to teacher Síle Ní Shuilleabháin who kept bread on the table for her husband and three children, Owen, Mary and Ruth. Dudley kept up his research during these hungry years and also, in partnership with Moody, developed initiatives aimed at raising the standard of Irish historical scholarship, which culminated in the journal Irish Historical Studies, which they jointly edited. He eventually obtained a post as a lecturer in UCD in 1939 and in 1945 was promoted to professor of modern Irish history, a post he occupied until his retirement in 1979. It was from this vantage that he promoted the study of history through careful research in primary sources and a dispassionate presentation of the facts. Through his engagement with leading British historian Herbert Butterfield, he developed close connections between UCD and Peterhouse College, Cambridge. A number of his star pupils including Ronan Fanning, Patrick Cosgrave, James McGuire and his own daughter Ruth, went on to pursue further studies at Cambridge having completed their primary degrees at UCD. At UCD he adopted the Cambridge style of tutorials in which academics met students for discussion and debate on essay topics on a regular basis, apart from the formal lectures. His determination to free the teaching of history from unthinking acceptance of traditional narratives prompted students and historians to examine received wisdom and sources with a critical eye. In time this approach came to be dubbed 'revisionism' and it generated fierce debate among historians. 'Dudley was like no other professor I had ever met,' recalled Art Cosgrove. 'He didn't want agreement. He wanted people to disagree. Naturally he divided opinion both during his lifetime and after his death.' The arch critic of Dudley and Moody was the historian Brendan Bradshaw, who accused them of a chilly indifference to humanity and the rights and wrongs of the actions of significant historical figures. Dudley did actually make moral evaluations of the actions of some historical figures but he was consciously sparing in attributing blame. One way or another the controversy over 'revisionism' helped generate even more interest in Irish history and led to a flowering of research in Irish universities. The National Archives on Bishop Street. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw While Dudley established a vibrant history department, his own productivity in terms of publications was disappointing after his early brilliant work. His main achievements in his later years were the establishment of the UCD Archives Department and his persistence in persuading Garret FitzGerald to set up the National Archives during his time as taoiseach. One of the reasons for Dudley's disappointing work rate in his later career was his heavy drinking. MacErlean does not shy away from dealing with this aspect of his life, which led to some bad behaviour. Neasa MacErlean She also refers to her own troubled childhood. Her mother, Mary, who lived in England, had mental health problems and treated her quite appallingly at times. For her own safety she spent a lot of time with her grandparents in Dublin or with her aunt Ruth and her husband, Patrick Cosgrave, in Cambridge, who gave her the stability she lacked at home. Acknowledgment of Dudley's flaws has not dimmed Neasa's admiration for him and what he achieved. Telling the Truth Is Dangerous: How Robert Dudley Edwards Changed Irish History Forever by Neasa MacErlean is published by Tartaruga Books
Times
04-07-2025
- Politics
- Times
This is what spending the night at Trinity College feels like
As you step through the gates, the clamour of the city slips away behind you. Inside the cobbled quadrangle of Trinity College Dublin, the air feels older, heavier, and the hush has a faintly illicit quality — as though you've wandered into a part of the city where you're not allowed to be, which is, of course, the allure. Each summer Trinity opens its student accommodation to the public, a canny blend of tourist-savvy pragmatism and romantic fantasy. For a night (or several), you can sleep within the same walls as Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett and Bram Stoker. You can walk the same quads once stalked by the revolutionaries Wolfe Tone and Robert Emmet, both famously banished from the university for their radical politics. Founded in 1592 under a royal charter from Queen Elizabeth I, Trinity is Ireland's oldest surviving seat of learning. But its story runs deeper than mortar and manuscript. For centuries, it stood as a symbol of colonial power — a bastion of Protestant ascendancy that excluded Catholics until 1793, when legal reforms lifted the bar on admission. Even then, however, Trinity remained an enclave of elite privilege and exclusivity. The architecture offers a trace of this hauteur. At the heart of the campus stands a statue of George Salmon, a former provost who famously declared that women would be admitted to Trinity 'over my dead body'. As fate would have it, Salmon died in 1904, and women were admitted that year. Despite the grandeur, checking in for the night is a briskly modern, informal affair in a carpeted office just off Trinity's Parliament Square, staffed by unfailingly polite students in blue polo shirts. No need to queue again on your way out — simply leave your key behind. My room was in the Rubrics, the college's oldest building, completed in about 1701 and standing like a red-brick sentry over the cobbles. Inside, it's less Downton Abbey, more out-of-town Ikea — pale woods, clean lines and a minimalist finish that nods to the past without indulging it. Accessibility, as you might expect from an 18th-century building, is limited: no lift, steep stairs and only a handful of ground-floor rooms. The sash windows in the room framed a postcard view of the square below, and although mere steps from the city's main arteries, the night passed in ecclesiastical silence. By day, the campus teems with tour groups and lounging Gen Zs basking in the sun behind the Campanile. The overall effect is oddly cinematic — think Normal People meets Harry Potter, with accents from every corner of the globe. Breakfast is served from 7.30am to 10am downstairs in the college's subterranean canteen — a utilitarian space that contrasts sharply with the splendour above ground, but delivers a solid buffet of hot food, fruit, cereals and pastries. It's certainly not the Hogwarts grand hall, but the buffet is hearty and the coffee strong — enough to set up even the fussiest eaters for a day of exploring Dublin. Trinity's location is, however, its trump card. It sits squarely in the city's cultural and retail core, just a three-minute walk from Grafton Street with its buskers and boutiques, and a stone's throw from some of Dublin's renowned pubs. James Joyce fans will know that the short stroll from Trinity's gates to Grafton Street retraces the author's first meeting with Nora Barnacle in June 1904 — the courtship that inspired Ulysses and Bloomsday. Still, wandering the quad after dusk, I couldn't shake the feeling that the college had more secrets than it let on. As a history lover, I found the official campus tour a touch too tidy. Yes, it covers the essentials — the Long Room, the Book of Kells, a look inside the Museum Building and an impressive roll call of alumni, but it largely sidesteps the stranger, darker stories. Take Edward Ford, for instance, a fellow of the college who met his end in the Rubrics, just two doors down from my room, in 1734. Annoyed by a group of students carousing outside his quarters, he reportedly demanded quiet — at which point they fired a musket through his door, fatally injuring the infamous disciplinarian. The tale is well documented but conspicuously absent from the official script. Perhaps it has been scrubbed to avoid alarming more delicate guests — but for lovers of dark tourism or true crime, it's a chilling reminder of how thin the walls of history really are. Would I stay a week? Unlikely. The magic lies in the brevity — and in the quiet sense of trespass. One night is enough to flirt with one's long-lost student self, to soak in the scholarly hush of cloisters and centuries-old setting. It's not luxurious. It's not flashy. But it is quietly profound — like bedding down inside the mind of the city itself, all faded grandeur, fierce intellect and ghosts who never quite left. Details Trinity College Dublin offers summer accommodation until August 30, room-only from €91 a night;
BBC News
02-07-2025
- Entertainment
- BBC News
Black history and legacy in Irish history explored in new exhibit
A new exhibition is showcasing the stories of black people who helped shape Irish society throughout Heritage NI: Hidden History aims to highlight the impact of several individuals whose contributions may have gone largely traces black history in Ireland as far back as the Viking and Roman eras, through to the presence of African American GIs stationed across the island of Ireland during World War Two and highlights black victims of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Among those featured are Rachael Baptiste, a trailblazing singer who broke barriers in Irish music, and Dr Raphael Armattoe, a Nobel Prize–nominated scientist. The exhibit, which opened in Londonderry's central library this week, aims to "challenge conventional narratives" and bring what are described as "long-neglected stories" into the public Naomi Green, who is the lead researcher for the project, said took several years to bring to fruition. "It's called hidden history for a reason," Dr Green told BBC Radio Foyle's North West Today programme. "I think a lot of people don't fully understand the complexity of our history here and that it is a little bit more than just the Orange and Green. "I mean, everyone has a story, but I think so much of our history - especially our local history - has maybe been focussed on the two dominant communities here, which is of course part of our history, but these people [in the exhibition] are also part of our history. "Also, when people talk about black history, they tend to think of America, they think of Rosa Parks and perhaps individuals who are more internationally famous, but these individuals in this project have shaped our stories in different and often subtle ways. "I think it's just fantastic to name them and also celebrate them." Dr Green said one person who particularly stood out for her when compiling the project was singer Nina Clinton, who was part of the Fisk Jubilee Singers, a group composed of formerly enslaved men and women from Fisk Jubilee University in Tennessee."Nina wrote some of the most beautiful handwritten letters home to her mother," Dr Green said. "Her granddaughter still has those letters to this day, and I was able to connect with her, and she was able to share those letters, including one that was written in Belfast. "To hear her voice as an 18-year-old woman coming to Belfast, experiencing the factories and people here, was just beautiful." 'Black history is also Irish history' Chantelle Lunt, a support researcher on the project, said the aim was to showcase people who are deserving of recognition and to challenge people's preconceptions of what black history actually said a lot of black history was focussed around the transatlantic slave economy, but there was much more to it - especially in places like Ireland."It is really important, especially during times like the ones we are in now, when there is often a prominent anti-migrant narrative and some people speak as if migration and diversity is something that is completely new," she said. "A project like this is vital in highlighting not only the complexities of black history and the fact that it predates the transatlantic slave economy, but also in showcasing black innovators who helped pass on scientific and mathematical knowledge," Ms Lunt said."It shows the contributions of black people to communities - such as many being drafted in during Commonwealth war efforts - as well as the influence of civil rights activism on local black people, particularly around abolition."It's so important to highlight these stories and show that black history is also Irish history." Mutwakil Bella, who is originally from Eritrea in east Africa and now lives in the north west, was at the launch."It is lovely to be here because I am an asylum seeker, so I can understand and relate to some of the people showcased in a way," he said. The interactive museum exhibition, which uses QR codes, will be in Derry for another month before moving to Strabane, Coleraine, Dungiven and then Belfast.
