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Gay Old Ireland - Whats the Story

  • 12-03-2011 10:02am
    #1
    Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭


    I have been wondering about this for some time, a modern standard or so we are told of assessing how progressive a society is its treatment and acceptence of minorities.

    Occassionally, you get books on it Brian Lacey's "Terrible Queer Ireland" has everyone gay from St Patrick to Patrick Pearse.

    http://hnn.us/roundup/entries/61344.html

    The evidence presented is often at best tenuous and according to one poster I asked is a " So & so (name) he's gay" and so on.

    For reasons that are obvious I dont think there should be any reference to Patrick Pearses sexuality here . The standard argument is based around a poem " The Little Lad of Tricks" and some historians even say he had "Aspergers" http://www.independent.ie/national-news/rebel-pearse-was-no-gay-blade-but-had-autistic-temperment-128853.html. So no Pearse please and if you want a "Pearse is Gay Thread" start your own.

    I am not gay and asked the mods had it been discussed here and was told not in detail. Part of the reason I have an interest is that a few months ago , I made a comment on a post on another forum on a social issue commenting that LGBT rights were absent .

    Now I do lore & footnotes - so how I operate is to look up and read up and post what I find if interesting, storiies, trials , crime reports etc . So I am starting it with a clean sheet and anyone who has info just post it.

    That way we will get a feel for how LGBT co-existed within society in Irish history.


«1

Comments

  • Closed Accounts Posts: 1,260 ✭✭✭PatsytheNazi


    CDfm wrote: »
    I have been wondering about this for some time, a modern standard or so we are told of assessing how progressive a society is its treatment and acceptence of minorities.

    Occassionally, you get books on it Brian Lacey's "Terrible Queer Ireland" has everyone gay from St Patrick to Patrick Pearse.

    http://hnn.us/roundup/entries/61344.html

    The evidence presented is often at best tenuous and according to one poster I asked is a " So & so (name) he's gay" and so on.

    For reasons that are obvious I dont think there should be any reference to Patrick Pearses sexuality here . The standard argument is based around a poem " The Little Lad of Tricks" and some historians even say he had "Aspergers" http://www.independent.ie/national-news/rebel-pearse-was-no-gay-blade-but-had-autistic-temperment-128853.html. So no Pearse please and if you want a "Pearse is Gay Thread" start your own.

    I am not gay and asked the mods had it been discussed here and was told not in detail. Part of the reason I have an interest is that a few months ago , I made a comment on a post on another forum on a social issue commenting that LGBT rights were absent .

    Now I do lore & footnotes - so how I operate is to look up and read up and post what I find if interesting, storiies, trials , crime reports etc . So I am starting it with a clean sheet and anyone who has info just post it.

    That way we will get a feel for how LGBT co-existed within society in Irish history.
    Well if as you say a how progressive a society is its treatment and acceptence of minorities, are you raising some sort of issue that gay rights weren't included in the 1916 Proclaimation or the earlier writings or speeches of say, Tone, Emmet etc :D ?

    Yes indeed, Irish nationalism and the 1916 Rising should once again be condemned for not mentioning these issues and others such as genetic engineering, artifcal intelligence and space travel etc as they should have forseen all these developments :rolleyes: Unlike documents which have included gay rights such as the America Declaration of Independence, the French Revoulotion, Magna Carta etc :rolleyes:


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Homosexuality- sodomy as a crime was introduced into Ireland by this guy - John Atherton and he was also executed for buggery with his steward John Child - I wonded did the medievals do jokes like " being with childe".

    atherton_j.jpg

    [FONT=Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][SIZE=+1]Atherton, John (1598-1640) [/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] [/FONT] [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif] [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]In 1640, John Atherton, Bishop of Waterford and Lismore, was hanged in Ireland for sodomy<a href="/glossary.php?word=sodomy&part=" target="_blank">sodomy</a> under a law that he had helped to institute. The sensational Atherton case was frequently cited in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as warning of the fate of men who engaged in same-sex sexual relations.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Born near Bridgewater in Somersetshire, England in 1598, Atherton came from a prosperous family and received an education at Oxford University. Sometime in his youth, possibly while at Oxford, he engaged in sexual relations with another man. It is not known how long this relationship continued or whether he habitually pursued sexual contact with other men. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif] Sponsor Message.
    <img src="http://b.scorecardresearch.com/p?c1=2&c2=6035232&c3=&c4=&c5=&c6=&c15=&cj=1" /> <a href="http://www.quantcast.com/p-85pvd3d23u7MU" target="_blank"><img src="http://pixel.quantserve.com/pixel/p-85pvd3d23u7MU.gif" style="display: none;" border="0" height="1" width="1" alt="Quantcast"/></a>
    adlog.php?bannerid=238&clientid=272&zoneid=26&source=&block=0&capping=0&cb=a25e1b5a2e95a97d69a4a33f738305ee
    [/FONT][FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Atherton entered the service of the Church of England, presumably shortly after leaving Oxford. Around 1620, he took a wife and began a family.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]It is not clear why Atherton left England for Ireland in 1634, though he had possibly earned a reputation as a libertine that may have played a factor in the move. One anonymous contemporary, in a rhyming pamphlet published after Atherton's death, charged that the cleric had fled after committing numerous offenses, including incest with the sister of his wife. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Atherton later confessed to a series of sins, including reading "naughty" books, viewing immodest pictures, frequenting plays, drunkenness, and neglect of the Ten Commandments. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Under the patronage of Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Atherton was appointed Lord Bishop of Waterford and Lismore in 1636.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]As the Bishop of Waterford and Lismore, Atherton successfully campaigned for the passage of an act that instituted the death penalty for the vice of buggery<a href="/glossary.php?word=buggery&part=" target="_blank">buggery</a>. In 1640, he became one of the first men accused under this statute. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]A lawyer named Butler, involved in a dispute with the bishop over the ownership of some land at Killoges, near Waterford, made a complaint to Parliament in which he accused Atherton of committing buggery with his steward and tithe proctor John Childe. The bishop strongly denied this specific charge, but Childe confessed. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Atherton's fellow clerics rallied around him, partly to avoid the disgrace to the Church that a conviction would bring, but to no avail. He was convicted. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Court spectators hailed the verdict of guilty, and Atherton was nearly murdered on his way from the courtroom to the prison in Cork. He did not strenuously protest his conviction, seeing God's hand in it. He also confessed to having committed unspecified heinous sins that, if publicly known, would increase the scandal surrounding him.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]On the morning of his execution, Atherton declared himself unworthy of the Communion of the Dead, though he had written his wife that he expected to see her in Heaven. As he prepared for transport, the bishop sought to have his arms pinioned to his sides with a black ribbon, but the sheriff insisted on using the cheap cord typically reserved for common criminals. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Atherton was hanged on Gallows Green on December 5, 1640. At ten o'clock that night, he was buried in a far corner of the yard at Christ Church in a place where some rubbish used to be cast and where no one else lay. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]His partner in sodomy, Childe, was hanged at Bandon Bridge in March 1641. [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]In Stuart England, the case of John Atherton became a topic of sermons and moral writings that denounced same-sex relations. Later, English gay men, notably William Beckford, subsequently collected these accounts as evidence of the existence of other men attracted to their own sex and as reminders of the viciousness of English attitudes toward same-sex sexual relations.[/FONT]


    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]http://www.glbtq.com/social-sciences/atherton_j,zoom.html
    [/FONT]

    His real problem had been getting involved in a land dispute with a lawyer named Butler.

    Butler was friendly with Richard Boyle - Ist Earl of Cork - a money grabbing guy who took over Walter Raleighs Irish Estates .

    The Bishop was enforcing the churches ownership of property so the dispute and allegations had political motives as well. Plantation of Munster and all that.

    So did prosecutions begin with the English and how did the Brehon Irish view it ?


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 16,165 ✭✭✭✭brianthebard


    Well if as you say a how progressive a society is its treatment and acceptence of minorities, are you raising some sort of issue that gay rights weren't included in the 1916 Proclaimation or the earlier writings or speeches of say, Tone, Emmet etc :D ?

    Yes indeed, Irish nationalism and the 1916 Rising should once again be condemned for not mentioning these issues and others such as genetic engineering, artifcal intelligence and space travel etc as they should have forseen all these developments :rolleyes: Unlike documents which have included gay rights such as the America Declaration of Independence, the French Revoulotion, Magna Carta etc :rolleyes:

    No need for that schtick there was no condemnation of Irish nationalism.

    The point is society now judges its progressiveness on minorities, but that wasn't always the case and so we need to read between the lines of history to find information about people who were trying to stay hidden to some extent.

    In addition through different periods sexuality have been judged differently, at certain times it would not have been much of a problem for one person to have a wife and a girlfriend and homosexual relations.

    Abraham Lincoln is 'supposed' to have been gay based on the letters he sent to a friend, although I'm not sure there is anything conclusive. But even if he were he would not have thought of himself or identified himself as gay in the way we do in society today.

    I think it would be odd if Casement restricted his homosexuality to foreign men, so what did he do to hide it when back in Britain? Presumably he had to because homosexuality was illegal (one of the reasons people think the black diaries were forged). Did his colleagues in the Rising know he was gay?


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Lynch_Print_%282%29.JPG

    The name Butler crops up again. In 1780 - Lady Eleanor Butler & friend fecked off to Wales as Eleanors mother had tried to force her into a convent.
    They claimed they were seeking a better way of life, devotion to an ideal but with hindsight we can see Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby were probably just devoted to each other. This 18th century couple found each other in Ireland where they lived in the comfort and privilege provided by their wealthy families.
    Miss Butler was particularly well read for the day, she could speak numerous languages. Nearly forty years old and still unwed she had the prospect of a life in the convent hanging over her, as her mother wished. At this time of course the correct ambition for a 'proper' lady was a good marriage and children. Sarah was in her mid twenties but could already see Eleanor's woes as a portent of things to come for her too. To add to her distress, Sarah lived with an uncle, his 'busy hands' being the final straw. The two women planned an escape and in Spring 1778 they eloped.
    The families quickly discovered their disappearance was more than met the eye and set about tracking them down, no doubt in utter secrecy. It's thought the two women tried to hide-out in a hunting lodge or retreat. Whatever, they didn't get far and were brought back to face the music. Remember, they were only going against their families' wishes, even by the standards of the 1700's they had not actually broken any laws, they hadn't done anything illegal at all.
    Now with their intentions known to all, both families did their best to persuade the women to leave well alone, to get on with life in a 'proper' manner. In retrospect, Eleanor's family were more than capable of bundling her away to some distant shore but they didn't. Perhaps in the end they took some pity on her or feared the scandal would go public, don't underestimate the fear of shame! Whatever, eventually Eleanor and Sarah were allowed, begrudgingly, to go their own way.
    The women left Ireland in search of the perfect place to settle in England but on a tour of Wales come to Llangollen and there found their dream. Built of local stone, rough hewn walls and roof a delightful cottage hidden in the beautiful Welsh countryside, “Plas Newydd” lay waiting for them. Here they stayed, renting the cottage along with four acres surrounding for the princely sum of £22 per year, or there about. Probably quite expensive for the day since to the locals 'The Ladies' must have seemed well to-do. In fact, we know they were not, Eleanor kept an excellent record of their accounts. Both women had a little money from their families but not enough to keep them in the style to which they were accustomed. Friends and well wishers provided for them too. They struggled to get by on many occasions but still kept a household of a gardener, footman and a maid each! For high born ladies this must have been the minimum, below which lay poverty!
    Over the years they improved their home and created a way of life peculiarly their own. They became more and more reclusive, hiding from strangers when the fancy took them. Avid readers, their library improved to become one of the best in the area and their home was fitted in good taste throughout.

    The two women planned each day in minuscule detail to make real the perfect life they'd dreamed of years earlier, in Ireland.

    The locals dubbed them “The Ladies”. Eventually their notoriety spread far beyond Llangollen. We can only imagine how unusual this must have seemed to Georgian society.
    When word of their idyllic lifestyle spread many could hardly believe it, wishing to see for themselves they were prepared to travel across the country to Llangollen. Amongst this number were some impressive personalities of the day including the Duke of Wellington and William Wordsworth! Newspapers carried reports of the women further widening their notoriety until eventually they came to the attention of Queen Charlotte. She was so impressed with their achievement they were granted a pension, remaining on the civil list the rest of their lives.
    “The Ladies of Llangollen” are long gone now but the cottage is still there even though its past seems to have been largely forgotten. Eleanor's home in Ireland is a preserved site but for other historical reasons, you can see more of Kilkenny Castle by searching any of the main search engines. Eleanor and Sarah ended their lives in Wales, contented and happy. The families they ran from in Ireland eventually came to terms with the 'wayward' daughters and acknowledged their achievement.


    http://www.famouswelsh.com/13_Articles/Ladies-of-Llangollen/Ladies-of-Llangollen.shtml

    Ponsonby was related to the writer Caroline Lamb and they were viewed with some curiosity.

    plas.jpg

    Their home in Wales is now a museum


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Well if as you say a how progressive a society is its treatment and acceptence of minorities, are you raising some sort of issue that gay rights weren't included in the 1916 Proclaimation or the earlier writings or speeches of say, Tone, Emmet etc :D ?

    I am not raising any issue. I raised the issue in other fora first in the context of gender debates on the basis that on social issues LGBT are often excluded or airbrushed out. I even got a few "you are gay" pm's for doing so . :D

    So there is no agenda on the 1916 leaders - it is just I dont want it to be a Dudley-Edwards style debate. But the enforcement of homosexuality laws in the Irish Free state would interest me as would the later decriminalisation of homosexuality.

    I also would like to see is lifestyles and contributions to art science etc by of the LGBT in Ireland . Factual & not lazy.


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  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    I have been studying Gaelic Ireland for some years now and one of the things that is apparent is the lack of attention paid to the social mores of that society.
    I suspect that the reason for this is that Gaelic Ireland simply does not conform to the Nationalist - Catholic historical tradition so beloved of many of our founding fathers.

    All of the evidence shows that Gaelic Ireland was secular in nature- divorce was common place, it was sexually permissive, had no concept of illegitimacy and allowed women a far greater level of freedom than other European societies.

    As Gaelic Ireland did not use primogeniture (this was imposed along with Common Law) there was not the same imperative on controlling sexuality.
    A woman's virginity was not an issue. Mother's 'named' the father of their child - I have yet to find an instance where the 'named' father denied it - even when it was extremely unlikely he was the father. The prime example of this was Con Bacach Ua Neill's acceptance of the then 12 year old Matthew as his son - and declaration of Matthew as his heir (Con had accepted primogeniture when he became the first earl of Tyrone) - this was one of the issues that Shane Ua Neill was protesting. This of course makes it very likely that Hugh O Neill was not biologically of the Uí Neill at all.

    In studying the legal texts (I would recommend Fergus Kelly's Guide to Early Irish Law) it is apparent that the 'Brehon' law was a comprehensive legal code which considered all aspects of daily life- yet, to date the only mention I have found of homosexuality is that a woman could divorce her husband if he was unable to sexually satisfy her because of being impotent or homosexual. There were also some clauses about levels of compensation which depended on whether the man was aware of his homosexuality prior to marriage. That's pretty much it.



    This means we can extrapolate a few things about Gaelic society-

    There existed enough people who were recognised as homosexual for the law code to refer to them.

    It was not 'illegal'- the law here was concerned with the sexual rights of the wives. There appear to have been no other legal repercussions.

    Women's sexual needs were recognised.

    I have yet to find any mention of lesbianism - however, given the reference to male homosexuality referred to above that could be because women didn't have the same 'getting it up' issues.

    A very strong case can be made that Gaelic Ireland was not concerned with policing people's sexual activity but rather sought to ensure that any children who were the result were protected and cared for - so there are extensive provisions which outline the rights of children who were conceived as a result of sex with people with mental health problems, disabilities or other forms of coercion or 'incapacitation' at the time of conception such as rape or intoxication.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 3,578 ✭✭✭jonniebgood1


    How about some 'English immorality versus Irish Morality'.
    151349.jpg


    151350.jpg


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 3,578 ✭✭✭jonniebgood1


    Comparison of the coverage in Irish newspapers of the Dublin castle scandal with the trials of Oscar Wilde are interesting. They pit on one hand the British elite and the other an Irish figure in the same role with different views on similar purported crimes.
    Dublin Castle scandal of 1884. Because public discourses around homosexuality had been so very different in this case, it is illuminating to contrast Irish media coverage of the earlier scandal with that of the Wilde trials. In May 1884 The Irish nationalist politician William O’Brien publicly alleged same-sex activities involving Dublin Castle administrators and officers of his newspaper United Ireland. O’Brien’s allegations came from what H. Montgomery Hyde describes as ‘the widespread belief that homosexual ‘vice’ was rampant in official circles in Ireland.’[4] According to historian Leon O’Broin,



    gly reports had been in circulation for some time about the sexual perversions of some of the headquarter officers in Dublin Castle. The Nationalist members of parliament attacked Spenser and Trevelyan and imputed them with the misdeeds of their employees. Tim Healy, with typical sarcasm, alleged that Spencer’s services to the state had well entitled him to promotion and suggested that he should become the duke of Sodom and Gomorrah.[5]



    This rumour and indirect reporting came to a head when, in a series of events that would be uncannily repeated during the Wilde trials, O’Brien used his newspaper to make allegations, particularly about Gustavus Cornwall, the secretary of the General Post Office. As if anticipating Wilde’s action against Queensberry, Cornwall sued O’Brien for libel, and the trial opened on 2nd July 1884. Extensive evidence was brought against Cornwell and others; not only was O’Brien cleared of libel, but Cornwall and seven other men were now under police surveillance. Subsequently, they were all arrested and tried on 5th August 1884 in Green Street courthouse in Dublin on charges relating to indecency and sodomy. During this second trial, other gay men were called as witnesses against Cornwall, but as they were in danger of losing their own jobs, they were reluctant to give evidence against him. In his memoirs, the profoundly homophobic O’Brien characterizes this reluctance as ‘one of those sudden gusts of infantile fretfulness which are apt to sweep over persons of their peculiar mentality…[when]… the three essential witnesses refused to be examined.’[6] ‘Providentially,’ he further observed, ‘the cowardice of persons thus diseased is commonly as abject as their depravity.’[7]



    By the end of 1884, the trials finally concluded, with a number of the men found guilty and sentenced to hard labour and penal servitude. The central protagonist, Cornwall, was acquitted and, due to retire anyway, he resigned his post in Dublin Castle. According to O’Broin, however, ‘Cornwall lost his post office job for having, as a Dublin wag put it, tampered with Her Majesty’s males.’[8] In relation to the Wilde trials, most noteworthy is that the publicity around the Dublin Castle trials provoked widespread Irish media condemnation of homosexuality. All Irish papers distanced themselves from what they chose to see as a foreign vice, using this condemnation for purpose of nationalist rhetoric. In the United Ireland in 7th June 1884, O’Brien wrote of the defendants’ homosexuality as ‘the system of depravity unsurpassed in the history of human crime’ and compared it with ‘the comparatively venial crimes (as far as human society is concerned) of the Moonlighters and Invincibles.’[9] Other accounts stressed the un-Irishness of those accused: The Evening Telegraph’s attacked Cornwall for ‘contaminating the running stream of Irish moral purity by stirring up the sink of pollution implanted by foreign hands in its very edges,’[10] while the Dundalk Democrat’s noted sodomy as ‘a crime that was unmentionable and happily is unknown and was previously unheard of by ninety-nine out of every hundred of the people in this country.’[11]



    In the light of Irish media accounts of the Dublin Castle scandal, the response to Wilde’s arrest and trial is striking in some Irish newspapers. Irish newspapers, again obliged to confront the dangerous topic of homosexuality, elided the issue by concentrating on Irish nationalist outrage at British legal injustice. Now that an Irishman was at the centre of the scandal and not a collection of hated Dublin Castle administrators, the discourse around homosexuality became much less direct, more circumspect than that appearing in the British press.



    Linked to this circumspection in the Irish media at the time was a tendency within later Irish sources to interpret Wilde’s behaviour in the courtroom of the Old Bailey as heroic and politicised. In other words, Wilde’s defence against the charge of homosexuality and gross indecency was later claimed for the tradition of Irish Republican defiance in the face of British injustice. In particular, when, during the trial, Wilde was asked to define the exact nature of ‘the love that dare not speak its name’, a coded poem about homosexuality by Lord Alfred Douglas, his response would be seen as one of the great Irish anti-imperialist speeches from the dock. Seamus Heaney, for example, asserted a full century after Wilde’s ordeal that ‘during his trials in 1895, Wilde had been magnificent in the dock and conducted himself with as much dramatic style as any Irish patriot ever did’.[12] In truth, Wilde wasn’t exactly being truthful and certainly not being patriotic when he denied the sexual element in the love that dare not speak its name, but his declaration broke the wall of public silence around homosexuality when he dared to bring it to a point of public utterance.[13] His homosexual love did have to speak its name when the law demanded an answer, however partial his answer. The simple fact that he made such a profession of ennobling same sex love is in itself precisely the factor that provoked public disturbance and debate. The vital importance here is the implication of Wilde’s articulation of the homoerotic for Irish public discourse. Martyrs and figures of political rebellion are often constructed retrospectively and this was the case with Wilde in Ireland.
    http://www.oscholars.com/TO/Appendix/Library/walshe.htm


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    800px-Gundagai_cemetery_Moonlight_headstone.jpg



    In 1880 an Irishman went to the gallows wearing a ring made of his dead friend James Nesbitt's hair.

    He asked that the might be buried together which finally happened 120 or so years later..

    He is a near contemporary of Oscar Wildes a fraudster who reputedly trained as an engineer in London.Variously he was a lay preacher, surveyor, fraudster, convict, escaped prisoner, Bushranger, hanged prisoner.

    He was tough.

    Scott, Andrew George [Captain Moonlite] (1842 - 1880)

    Alternative Names:Moonlite, CaptainBirth:1842, Rathfryland, Down, IrelandDeath:20 January 1880, Darlinghurst, New South Wales, AustraliaCultural Heritage: Religious Influence: Occupation:


    A060107.jpg Andrew George Scott [Captain Moonlite] (1842 - 1880), by unknown engraver, 1879, courtesy of La Trobe Picture Collection, State Library of Victoria. IAN28/11/79/180. .
    Image Details

    SCOTT, ANDREW GEORGE (1842-1880), bushranger, self-styled 'CAPTAIN MOONLITE', was born at Rathfriland, County Down, Ireland, and baptized on 5 July 1842, son of Thomas Scott, Anglican clergyman, and his wife Bessie, née Jeffares. Young Scott was described as 'dark, handsome, active and full of high spirits', but was known for impulsive acts of mischievous violence. He may have studied engineering in London, and legend has it that he served with Garibaldi in Italy in 1860.
    On 22 November 1861 Scott, his parents and brother Thomas arrived at Auckland, New Zealand, in the Black Eagle. A fellow-passenger remembered him as 'very gentlemanly and high-spirited'. His father took charge of Christ Church, Coromandel, and his brother was ordained priest; Andrew taught school for a while but in February 1864 was commissioned in the Waikato Militia; later he transferred to the Auckland Volunteer Engineers Corps. On 6 November 1867 he was refused a post of inspector or sub-inspector in the armed constabulary, although he had been endorsed by prominent members of the Auckland community as 'a gentleman well suited for an office of command'.
    Within a few months Scott had arrived in Australia, possibly first in Sydney. About April 1868 he went to Melbourne, met Bishop Perry and in July was appointed stipendiary lay reader of the Church of Holy Trinity, Bacchus Marsh. In November he advertised that he intended to set up as a consultant surveyor and engineer in addition to his clerical duties. However in March 1869 he was sent as lay reader to Egerton near Ballarat, where he made friends with James Simpson, the local schoolmaster, and L. J. Bruun, agent for the town's branch of the London Chartered Bank. As Bruun was returning to the bank late on 8 May, Scott, disguised in mask and cloak, attacked him and forced him to hand over the contents of the safe. He made Bruun write a note certifying his resistance to the robbery; Scott signed it himself with the deliberately mis-spelt 'Captain Moonlite'. Both Bruun and Simpson were charged with robbery but were acquitted; Scott soon left for Sydney.
    For some months he lived off the proceeds of the crime, but towards the end of 1870 he began passing valueless cheques. In November he fraudulently bought the yacht, Why-Not, arranged for a skipper and a 'young lady' to accompany him, but was arrested by water police as he tried to leave for Fiji. On 20 December he was given twelve months in Maitland gaol, some of which he spent in Parramatta Lunatic Asylum, feigning madness. While he was in prison Bruun and his friends had detectives set on his trail, and when he was released in April 1872 he was charged with the Egerton gold robbery. While on remand he escaped from Ballarat gaol but was soon recaptured, and on 24 July he appeared before Judge Barry. Scott conducted most of his own defence, cross-examined Bruun for seven hours with 'shrewd and pertinacious questions' and amused the crowd with his facetious remarks. He received ten years hard labour and one year for escaping.
    Scott was a recalcitrant and violent prisoner in Pentridge gaol. Released in March 1879, for a while he was a speaker at open-air meetings on prison reform and kindred subjects, but on 18 November with a small band he held up Wantabadgery sheep station near Wagga Wagga for two days. He used the two children of the near-by hotelkeeper as hostages, separating them by force from their parents. Two of the gang (one a boy of 15) and one trooper were killed when the police attacked the homestead. Scott and three others were found guilty of murder and he and one of his accomplices were hanged on 20 January 1880.

    Postscipt

    Captain Moonlite

    Broadcast 6.30pm on 14/06/2004
    One hour before bushranger Andrew Scott, (Captain Moonlite) was hung on January 20th, 1880, he asked that he be laid to rest beside the grave of gang member and best mate, James Nesbitt. This wish was not to be granted until more than one hundred years later when a couple of local women became interested in Scott’s letters, and the possibility of a gay relationship between the outlaws.
    GEORGE NEGUS: G'day. Another interesting week ahead, starting with our Monday historical look at things, which tonight takes a quite personal turn with a very leading question - what happens when our individual history, as it were, runs out? And later we'll hear about some pretty elaborate funeral customs. But first, remember Captain Moonlite, the bushranger? Well, apparently the not-always-good Captain's heart's desire was to lie beside his best mate for eternity. Strange but true.

    SAM ASIMUS: His last words were, "I ask that my body be given to my friends. I want to be buried in Gundagai." And I thought, "Why hasn't he?"

    PATRICK SULLIVAN, EDITOR 'GUNDAGAI INDEPENDENT': It was a very romantic thing to do. I think that Sam and Christine actually were having some kind of an imaginary love affair with him by the time he was dug up and brought back.

    SAM ASIMUS: It was just basically granting someone's wish and the wish of someone whom I believed was executed unfairly and unjustly. It was righting a wrong for me. Captain Moonlite was Andrew George Scott. He came to Australia in 1868. He actually started as a lay preacher at Bacchus Marsh, a Victorian town. I think it was very much to his liking. He could ride horses and engage in pistol shooting. And by all accounts, he was very charismatic. He was good-looking - intense blue eyes, that wonderful Irish brogue.

    PATRICK SULLIVAN: He was allegedly very articulate, very intelligent, well-educated. It's hard to imagine how a bloke with his background could have become a criminal.

    SAM ASIMUS: The bank at Mount Egerton was robbed one night. Hardly anyone saw anything. The bank manager was later charged, but he was acquitted. Years later, Scott was charged. He was found with the gold in his possession. He pleaded that he was not guilty. He paid a terrible price for it. He was sent to Pentridge. James Nesbitt was in Pentridge at the same time for theft, and they formed a very close friendship. He was his dearest, truest friend. He wrote to Nesbitt's mother and said, "We have a pure, real, true friendship." I believe he was his soul mate.

    PATRICK SULLIVAN: Moonlite did refer to Nesbitt in terms that would suggest perhaps he was gay. But then, on the other hand, if Moonlite was gay, why did he use as his alibi for the Mount Egerton bank robbery the fact that, he claimed, he was with a woman.

    SAM ASIMUS: He got out of prison early, after serving 7-odd years of a 10-year sentence, for good behaviour. He linked up with James Nesbitt, starting what he hoped would be a new career in lecturing on prison reform, something he felt very passionately about. But the authorities shut him down. He had too much to tell. He realised he had to get out of Victoria, get away from the persecution. So he linked up with a group of other young men. They actually walked into NSW, where they were hoping for better times. Unfortunately, NSW was gripped in a terrible drought and unemployment was very high. Luck was against them, really. They'd heard of Wantabadgery station, renowned for its hospitality. They were hoping to get food, shelter, perhaps work. Unbeknown to them, it had changed hands. They were turned away. It was absolutely the last straw. I think that they had pinned all their hopes on finding food and shelter there, and something snapped. They came back the next morning, held up the station. Rumours reached
    the police in Wagga Wagga that the Kelly Gang had invaded. Over a period of three days, they took 35 people hostage. He treated the women with respect, though some of the men he roughed up. None of the men were shot. He could have. I think in the circumstances, he was probably quite restrained. The police turned up the next morning. Four constables only were sent. Short gunfight. Police fled.

    FOOTAGE OF SAM ASIMUS AT RUINS OF BUILDING

    This is all that's left of McGlede's hut. This is where the final shoot-out took place between Moonlite, his mates and the police, heavily reinforced after they left Wantabadgery station. It was a scene of great excitement and confusion. It was here that James Nesbitt, the youngest bushranger, Augustus Wernicke, and Constable Bowen were all shot dead. Scott and the surviving gang members were tried in Gundagai and in Darlinghurst, charged with the murder of Constable Bowen. Scott represented himself, and how hard must have that been, two of his friends just freshly buried in Gundagai Cemetery, one his dearest friend. There were times when they said he was so emotional that he had to stop and collect himself. He denied that he fired the shot that killed Constable Bowen.

    CAPTAIN MOONLITE: "Though not guilty of the blood of anybody, I am ready to suffer for their sakes and answer for breaking the laws of the country."

    SAM ASIMUS: He was sentenced to hang. He used his time in the condemned cells. He wrote volumes - absolute volumes. Letters - letters to so many people. I think he was really, in his mind, trying to square up all his debts, make his final goodbyes. And his letters were all about justice and friendship. They were what moved me in the end, his letters.

    CAPTAIN MOONLITE: "I am to die on the 20th instant, and hope that I may rest with my friend. The only thing I long for is the certainty that I may share his grave."

    SAM ASIMUS: He was actually hanged on 20 January 1880 at Darlinghurst Court. After that, he was taken...to what is now Rookwood Cemetery and buried in the Anglican part of the cemetery, and there he lay for 107 years...before his last wish was granted. He's buried in Gundagai Cemetery. He is within a few metres of James Nesbitt and Augustus Wernicke. Constable Bowen is not too far away - far enough away to be separate - so that they are all laid to rest in the same place.

    GEORGE NEGUS: Quite a tale, and beautifully reconstructed by Kerry Staight and our mates in the GNT Adelaide bureau. Captain Moonlite finally buried with his best mate, James. Sam, by the way, and others chipped in something like six grand to make the Captain's final wish a reality.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Then we have the Gore-Booth Girls, Willie Yeats wrote about them.

    Eva Gore-Booth , unlike her sister Countess Markiewicz , she was a pacifist. She was also politically active, trade unionist and a lesbian.

    Her long term partner was a lady named Esther Roper.

    She campaigned for votes were women, was an anti-death penalty campaigner and was a supporter of Roger Casements.

    Her family accepted their relationship as healthy for Eva.

    Here is a bio - she was politically active and in demand as a speaker and juggled her public life with her private life without causing hassle.



    Eva Gore-Booth

    August 11, 2009 by Sarah Irving

    Born to an upper-class Irish family, Eva Gore-Booth became a leading campaigner for trade union rights, votes for women and Irish independence in the first three decades of the 20th century.
    Eva was born in Lissadell,County Sligo in May 1870 into a prominent Anglo-Irish family, the Gore-Booths. She enjoyed a conventional upper-class upbringing but from an early age was entranced by nature and by the delights of novels and poetry. The poet William Yeats was an occasional visitor to the great house and after the deaths of both Eva and her sister Constance Markiewicz wrote a bitter-sweet poem in their memory, whose opening lines recalled those long-ago visits:
    The light of evening, Lissadell,
    Great windows open to the south,
    Two girls in silk kimonos, both
    Beautiful, one a gazelle.

    The turning point in Eva’s life came in 1896 when she was in Bordighera, Italy. Here she met Esther Roper from Manchester, sent there to rest by friends who feared for her health through overwork. Ester told Eva of her work campaigning for trade union organisation amongst women and for women’s right to vote and the two women became friends, for life as it turned out. Eva decided to leave her comfortable home and way of life in Ireland and move to Manchester to help Esther in her work , sharing her house at 83 Heald Place, Rusholme
    Trade Unionism
    Within months of her move to Manchester Eva was addressing branches of the local Independent Labour Party and Women’s Co-operative Guild on the necessity of women’s suffrage and was soon recognised as an activist in her own right. In June 1900 she was appointed joint organising secretary of the Manchester, Salford and District Women’s Trade Union Council. Eva worked alongside the other worker Sarah Dickenson in their offices at 9 Albert Square. Sarah later remembered Eva thus in a letter to Esther:
    “I met her first at your office when she came to Manchester, and my first impression of her was her charming and interesting personality. When I knew her better I found how very genuine she was in all her dealings and discovered all the beautiful traits in her character. The friendly way that she treated all the women trade unionists endeared her to them. If she was approached for advice or help she never failed. She is remembered by thousands of working women in Manchester for her untiring efforts to improve their industrial conditions, for awakening and educating their sense of political freedom, and for social intercourse.”
    The Trades Council had been established at a meeting in the Lord Mayor’s Parlour in the Town Hall in February 1895 by a group of men and women mainly connected with the Liberal party, with the aim of assisting women workers to organise and lobby for the improvement of working conditions.
    Over the next few years both women worked very hard to encourage women to set up and join unions. It was rarely an easy task. A section in the 1903 Trades Council report described the problems:
    “For however severely trade grievances may be felt, the first steps in organisation are always difficult. The timidity of inexperience is hard to overcome, and people naturally fear to jeopardise their week’s earnings. Innumerable meetings are held by the Council, sometimes so small that they are not in themselves worth recording and much personal canvassing and persuasion has to be used before a sufficient number of workers can be gathered together and enough enthusiasm aroused to induce an adequate number of more progressive to take up the responsible positions of officers, committee and collectors.”
    One of the difficulties they encountered in getting women to go to meetings was solved by starting a Tea Fund in 1902 to buy tea, sugar, milk and cake:
    “It was found that the tea was a great convenience, as many of the women live in outlying districts, they are naturally anxious to hurry home to tea when their work is over and it is both inconvenient and expensive for them to come back to meetings in the evening. We are glad to say that the tea had good results in introducing a social element that promoted good fellowship and a friendly spirit among the members, and the attendance has largely increased.”
    The most successful women’s union established by Eva and Sarah was the Salford and District Association of Power Loom Weavers, set up in April 1902. As well as trade unionism the women workers were also interested in politics and the suffrage campaign, sending a resolution just weeks after their establishment to a meeting at the Free Trade Hall called to protest against the imposition of a corn tax. The women’s resolution not only protested against the tax and the fact that it would fall most heavily on women “the worst paid workers in the country” but also objected to the fact that their exclusion from the franchise prevented them “from making an effective protest at the Ballot Box”. Nellie Keenan was the first Treasurer of the union and later became Secretary.
    Eva was in demand as a speaker, addressing the May Day demonstration in Gorton Park in May 1902 and a meeting in the Secular Hall, Rusholme later that same month on “The Industrial Position of Women”. In 1903 Eva became the WTUC representative on the Education Committee of the City Council and was later appointed onto the Technical Instruction Committee.
    Christabel Pankhurst became friends with Eva and Esther in 1901 and was swiftly drawn into their activities, joining Eva’s poetry circle at the University Settlement, going on the Women’s Trade Union Council, speaking at a number of meetings on the suffrage question and accompanying the two women on holiday to Venice. Her sister Sylvia recalled that at this time Christabel adored Eva “and when Eva suffered from neuralgia, as often happened, she would sit with her for hours, massaging her head. To all of us at home, this seemed remarkable indeed, for Christabel had never been willing to act as the nurse to any other human being”. At Esther’s suggestion Christabel began studying law at the University of Manchester, graduating in 1906 with first class honours. According to Sylvia, Mrs Pankhurst was quite jealous of the time that Christabel spent with Esther and Eva.
    In 1904 Eva and Sarah resigned from their posts with the Women’s Trades Union Council in protest at its refusal to support the campaign for women’s suffrage. The issue had been raised by Christabel Pankhurst, who called for the Council to adopt women’s suffrage as a fourth aim. This was rejected by a large majority on the Council on the grounds that “its special work, for which alone its subscribers’ money was asked, was the organisation of women’s labour, and that the advocacy of Women’s Suffrage, however desirable in itself, was outside its scope as a body”. By now passionately committed to the suffrage campaign Eva and Sarah felt that they had no other option but to resign their jobs with the Trades Council.
    They did not abandon their work on unionising women workers, however, but immediately set up a new organisation – the Manchester & Salford Women Trades & Labour Council – in September 1904 with Eva and Sarah as Joint Secretaries and with offices at 5 John Dalton Street. According to Esther the next ten years “were full to overflowing with organisation, writing, speaking at large gathering in all parts of England, deputations to Cabinet Ministers and to Members of Parliament. To this was added a new activity, when well-meant and ill-meant efforts were made to restrict women’s labour in various fields. On different occasions, women pit-brow workers, barmaids, women acrobats and gymnasts, and women florists were successfully organized in their own defence.”
    Many of the trade unions that the two women had helped to set up withdrew from the Council in their support along with their two thousand members, including the power loom weavers, tailoresses, bookbinders and others. They continued their hard work and by 1907 Sarah Dickenson was able to tell a conference of women workers in Manchester that they now had four thousand affiliated members. Nellie Keenan acted as Treasurer of the new body, which no longer had access to the wealthy Liberal sympathisers of before. Instead they received contributions from local labour and socialist organisations including the Manchester branch of the National Union of Clerks, the Women’s Co-operative Guild, the National Clarion Cycling Club and the Nelson Labour Representation Committee (Eva’s brother Josslyn Gore-Booth contributed a much needed sum of five pounds each year).
    Their success enabled them to start a quarterly newspaper called The Women’s Labour News which gave a full account of all the industrial and political activities of the women’s trade unions. In her editorial in the first issue Eva wrote thus.
    “Many are the difficult questions connected with labour, many are the misunderstandings and confusions, many are the obscure corners of the industrial world, and many are the wrongs done in the darkness. Those who are working for the betterment of political and industrial conditions of women have great need of fellowship, of coherency and fee discussion, and the ventilation of pressing grievances. The aim of this little paper is to light a few street lamps here and there in the darkest ways, to let us at all events see one another’s faces and recognise our comrades, and work together with strong, organised and enlightened effort for the uplighting of those who suffer most under the present political and industrial system.”
    An important campaign waged by Eva and Esther was in defence of women’s right to work. Many men (and some women) – including some leading trade unionists and socialists – believed in the notion that men should be paid enough to support a wife and family, and that in an ideal society married women would not have to work. When David Shackleton, , Secretary of the Darwen weavers, publicly supported this view, Eva wrote a pamphlet entitled Women’s Right to Work, which pointed out how he represented 74,000 married women workers in the cotton industry. When there were an attempt to prevent bar-maids from working Eva and Esther used the occasion of a by-election in Manchester in which Winston Churchill was standing to raise the issue. Eva’s sister Constance came over from Ireland and attracted publicity in a characteristic manner, as the Manchester Guardian reported in April 1908:
    “A coach of the olden times was driven about Manchester yesterday to advertise the political agitation on behalf of the barmaids. It was drawn by four white horses, and the ‘whip’ was the Countess Markievicz, sister of Eva Gore-Booth. In all parts of the city the coach and its passengers excited general interest, and in the North-West division especially, the cause of the barmaids was made known not only by demonstration, but by speeches and personal interviews and distribution of literature.”
    Eva and Esther also campaigned over the working conditions of other women workers, such as florists’ assistants and the pit-brow women, who worked on the surface at the head of mines in Lancashire sorting the coal. They wore a distinctive working garb of wide trousers and headscarves and wielded shovels with great manual dexterity. In 1911, when parliament threatened to ban women from the work, Eva and Esther organised protest meetings in Wigan and Manchester and made sure that the pit-brow women were on the platform.
    Literature and Education
    Somehow Eva found time in her busy life to write poetry and plays and a number of collections of her work were published during the lifetime. Some of her poems were set to music by her friend Max Mayer, a Manchester composer, while two others – The Triumph of Maeve and Forth They Went – were set to music after her death by the composer Edgar Bainton. Her work was also included in a collection made by her friend AE in 1904 called New Songs, appearing alongside poems Padraic Colum, Alice Milligan and others. Her interest in literature and poetry led Eva to become involved in the University Settlement, based in Ancoats Hall, Every Street, where Esther was already on the Committee. The Settlement had been founded in 1895, inspired by the work of Toynbee Hall in the East End of London, with the aim of bringing culture into the bleak industrial district of Ancoats. Eva passed on her love of literature to local working class women and after her death one of them Louisa Smith lovingly recalled those classes:
    “We were a class of about sixteen girls. I think we were all machinists and we were rough…..We called ourselves the Elizabethan Society because we had no scenery: as we said among ourselves, we had no assets, but we enjoyed every minute of the rehearsals. We were very raw material but keen on acting; she showed such patience and love that we would do anything to please her and she got the best out of us. After rehearsals we would give a show of our own, an imitation of what we had seen or imagined. If any of us were feeling seedy or worried about business or home she could always see, and showed such an understanding sympathy that we came away feeling we had a real friend. I remember one of the girls was very delicate and truly not really fit to fight the battles of life, and Miss Gore-Booth cared for her and sent her little delicacies, and took her to her own doctor, and in a hundred and one ways she cared for us We thought she was a being from another world. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say we worshipped her, but she never knew it, she was so utterly selfless….She took us on picnics, and they seemed to be different picnics from any I had ever been to, so jolly and free, no restraint about them. She was also very keen on women’s rights and trade unions. She persuaded me to join…She was always sympathetic with the downtrodden, and worked and lectured might and main, interviewing Members of Parliament, etc., on their behalf till conditions were mended. She was very frail and delicate herself, but full of pluck and determination, and would stand up for people she knew to be unjustly treated, even though the world was against them, and with all so sweet and gentle that one could not help loving her.”
    In November 1902 a well-attended meeting of theTailoresses Union was held in the Shamrock Hall, Rochdale Road (lent by the United Irish League) where the entertainment was provided by the Elizabethan Society and a Miss Dora Villey, who played the piano for dancing. Eva also ran a fortnightly Sunday morning reading class for a number of years at 78 Canning Street for the Ancoats Brotherhood, an educational organisation which for many years held lectures, music evenings, art appreciation and literature classes and much else in the New Islington Hall, Ancoats.
    The Suffrage Campaign
    In Lancashire many women worked in the cotton industry and were members of the weavers unions (though despite the fact the majority of the members were women, the officers of the union were always men). Able to earn their own living in the great weaving sheds of the north, these women provided a solid base of support for campaigns to give them political as well as industrial rights. Esther and other women political campaigners such as Sarah Reddish, Selina Cooper and Sarah Dickenson saw the vital importance of linking the struggles for women’s right to vote with the struggle for better working and social conditions, of convincing working class women that the vote was not an end in itself but a means to an end.
    On 1st May 1900 they launched a petition at the May Day meeting in Blackburn, asking women textile workers to sign, and then sent out organisers to contact every group of women workers they could find in every town in Lancashire. Accompanied by fifteen women cotton workers the petition was finally presented to parliament on 19th March 1901 with nearly 30,000 signatures. The following year the women presented another petition from Yorkshire and Cheshire and in the summer of 1903 the suffrage campaigners set up the Lancashire and Cheshire Women Textile and Other Workers’ Representation Committee (LCWTOWRC) with an office at 5 John Dalton Street (where they were joined a year later by the secessionist Women’s Trades and Labour Council). Bertha Mason wrote of their efforts thus:
    “It was the appearance on the scene of action of this new and important force (women textile workers) , the organizing of which was carried out by Miss Esther Roper, Miss Gore-Booth, and Miss Reddish, herself at one time a textile worker, which was chiefly responsible for the wonderful revival of interest in the question of the enfranchisement of women which marked the early years of 1900. There can be no doubt that this active and enthusiastic demand on the part of great army of women who earn their bread by ‘the sweat of their brow’, and not merely their own bread but in many cases the bread of relatives dependent on them, made a deep impression on Parliament, and caused many who had hitherto treated the agitation as an ‘impracticable fad’ and ‘the fantastic crochet’ of a few rich and well-to-do women, to inquire seriously into the why and wherefore of the movement.”
    The manifesto of the LCWTOWR, published in July 1904, explicitly linked class and suffrage and noted the way that the male labour movement had formed the Labour Representation Committee to secure a political voice, leading to the conclusion that women should do the same.
    “Fellow Workers – During the last few years the need of political power for the defence of the workers has been felt by every section of the labour world. Among the men the growing sense of of the importance of this question has resulted in the formation of the Labour Representation Committee with the object of gaining direct Parliamentary Representation for the already enfranchised working men. Meanwhile the position of the disenfranchised working women, who are by their voteless condition shut out from all political influence, is becoming daily more precarious. They cannot hope to hold their own in industrial matters, where their interests may clash with those of their enfranchised fellow-workers or employers.
    The one all-absorbing and vital political question for labouring women is to force an entrance into the ranks of responsible citizens, in whose hands lie the solution of the problems which are at present convulsing the industrial world.
    In view of the complicated state of modern politics, and the mass of conflicting interests, the conclusion has been forced on those of the textile workers who have been working unceasingly in past years to secure the vote for women, that what is urgently needed is that they should send their own nominee to the House of Commons, pledged to work in season and out of season to secure the enfranchisement of the women workers of the country……What Lancashire and Cheshire women think today England will do to-morrow.”

    The women extended the campaign, speaking to local trade union branches, helping to establish local suffrage societies and getting support from the Labour Representation Committees. Almost all their efforts were now directed towards working class women. As Eva wrote in her contribution to a book on suffrage, “Surely the working women of England have paid the price of political emancipation over and over again! It is no mere insignificant statistical fact that that these millions of workers live laborious days of poverty-stricken and upright independence, and produce by their labour so large a proportion of the material wealth of the country. Here is a force that must in the end be reckoned with.”
    Another tactic adopted by the women was to make suffrage an issue in parliamentary elections where Labour candidates were standing. In the summer of 1902 David Shackleton stood for parliament in a by-election at Clitheroe. Eva wrote to the Manchester Guardian, pointing out that women weavers were paying into a fund to support their MP (MPs received no payment at this time) and yet had no vote themselves. The women organised a number of successful meetings during the campaign. This tactic was repeated in the campaign to support the Labour candidate Thorley Smith in Wigan in 1906 and many women went to the town to speak. He came second to the Tory candidate. In January 1910 the committee ran a campaign during the general election in Rossendale, but with much less success.
    After 1904 Christabel moved away from Eva and Esther, engaging in increasingly bitter attacks on the Labour party for its slowness in supporting the demands of women. Instead she moved towards the Women’s Social Political and Union, a small grouping of ILP women that had been established at a meeting in Mrs Pankhurst house in Nelson Street, Chorlton-on-Medlock (now the Pankhurst Centre) on 10th October 1903. Few took much notice of the WSPU until 13th October 1905 when Christabel and a mill girl named Annie Kenney attended a meeting at the Free Trade Hall to be addressed by Winston Churchill MP and Sir Edward Grey MP, two prominent members of the Liberal Party and future Cabinet members. At the end of the meeting Christabel and Annie jumped up and shouted ‘Will the Liberal Government give votes to women?’ whilst unfurling a banner inscribed “Votes for Women”. After being hustled out Christabel got them both arrested by spitting at a policeman and they spent in a week in Strangeways.
    The WSPU seized on the incident, organising a protest meetings in Stevenson Square and rallying support from the ILP and other socialist organisations. A large crowd of friends and supporters greeted the two women on their release, including Esther and Eva who presented Christabel with flowers and also added their names to the list of sponsors for a protest meeting to be held the following evening, ironically, at the Free Trade Hall. Christabel and Annie spoke as did Keir Hardie, who moved a motion condemning the behaviour of the Liberal party at the meeting the previous week. Eva seconded the motion. It was perhaps the last time that Eva agreed with Christabel’s actions. A few weeks later she caught hold of Teresa Billington, a leading member of WSPU, after a meeting and urged her to tell Christabel not to vary her defence from one meeting to another. “….she cannot fit her explanation to her audience. She either deliberately invited imprisonment or she was a victim; she either spat at the policeman or she did not. She can’t tell one tale in Manchester and another in Oldham”.
    In May 1906 Eva, alongside Sarah Dickenson, Margaret Ashton, Emmeline Pankhurst and other women prominent in the suffrage movement, was one of delegation which met the new Liberal Prime Minister Campbell-Bannerman. In her speech Eva stressed the economic contribution of women on behalf of the fifty working women who had come to London with them from Lancashire:
    “The number of women who are engaged at this time in producing the wealth of this country is double the population of Ireland. It is very large number. These women are all labouring under the gross disability and industrial disadvantage of an absolute want of political power. Every day we live this becomes a more grave disadvantage, because industrial questions are becoming political questions which are being fought out in Parliament. The vast number of women workers have their point of view and their interest to be considered; but those interests are not considered and the whole effect of their crushing exclusion is to react on the question of their wages. I am a trade union secretary in Manchester, and know from personal experience what women’s wages are and the sort of money they get for their work. Six or seven shillings a week is not a sufficient sum of money to live on. This not the rate of wages that could be possibly be enforced upon the enfranchised citizens of a free country. We feel, and I think women in other classes, who are working, also feel that our industrial status is being brought down. It results from the fact that we have no political power. That is the lesson which the working women of Lancashire have learned, and that is the thought they want to bring before you and want you to consider.”
    To the bitter disappointment of the women Campbell-Bannerman refused to move on the issue and in response the WSPU adopted increasingly militant tactics, beginning with attempts to ‘rush’ Parliament, chaining themselves to railings, smashing windows and eventually even committing arson, burning postboxes and even churches. The ‘suffragettes’ as they had now became known were often brutally treated by the police on demonstrations and when they were imprisoned went on hunger-strike. The prison authorities, backed by the Home Secretary, retaliated by force-feeding them, a shocking and violent physical assault which sometimes damaged the health of women and led to wide-spread criticism of the government by many who were not sympathetic to the tactics of the WSPU.
    The northern suffragists felt alienated by the WSPU campaign and continued to work steadily away at their campaign amongst working class women, gathering increased support and eventually winning over the Labour party to their position. In contrast the WSPU severed its links with the Socialist movement, lost all interest in serious organizing amongst working-class women, and indeed Sylvia Pankhurst was disowned by her mother and sister for continuing to work and organise amongst working class women in the East End.
    The dismay of the northern suffragists at the tactics of the WSPU were set out by Eva in a letter to Mrs Fawcett, the most prominent constitutional campaigner, in the autumn of 1906:
    “There is no class in the community who has such good reasons for objecting and does so strongly object to shrieking and throwing yourself on the floor and struggling and kicking as the average working woman, whose dignity is very real to them. We feel we must tell you this as we are in great difficulties because our members in all parts of the country are so outraged at the idea of taking part in such proceedings that everywhere for the first time they are shrinking from public demonstrations. It is not the fact of demonstration or even the violence offered to them, it is being mixed up with and held accountable as a class for educated and upper class women, who kick, shriek, bite and spit. As far as importance in the eyes of the Government goes where shall we be if the working women do not support us?”
    In June 1908 Eva, her sister Constance, Esther and Sarah Reddish went down to London for a large rally organised by the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies. Eva told the crowd of several thousand in Trafalgar Square that five million women were working in Britain who were not paid properly for the work that they did, many receiving half the male wage. Constance got the crowd cheering by declaring that “they cannot abolish woman, take away her occupation, and let her starve…We are told that the bar is a bad place for women, but the Thames Embankment is far worse”.
    After Manchester
    In her memoir Esther Roper records that in 1913 “illness, caused by the climate of Lancashire, made it impossible for us to live there any longer, and reluctantly we left our many friends and went south, though we came back constantly for work”. Not just the soot-filled damp air but surely years of long hours, travel and snatched meals must have taken its toll on the health of both women. In London they took up residence in Hampstead at 14 Frognal Gardens. There was to be no peaceful retirement for Eva and Esther for they were soon caught up in the enormity of the First World War and then the bloody events of the Easter Rising and its aftermath
    When the war broke out they opposed it as pacifists as did many of their suffragist and socialist friends, some of whom were active in organisations such the No Conscription Fellowship and Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom. Eva wrote a short story called The Tribunal (which was printed as a leaflet) in which she dramatises the experience of conscientious objectors when arguing for their beliefs before hostile magistrates. In 1915 the two women joined the Womens’ Peace crusade and travelled the country speaking in support of a negotiated peace to end the war. These were very brave actions given the climate of jingoism and anti-German hysteria whipped up by the government and the “patriotic” press.
    Constance had followed a very different political path to Eva, joining Sinn Fein in 1908 and setting up the Fianna na hEireann in 1909 as an Irish alternative to the pro-Imperialist Boy Scouts recently established by Baden-Powell. She was an expert shot who in turn taught her young men how to shoot and many of them later took part in the Easter Rising. During the 1913 Dublin Lockout Constance ran soup kitchens to help feed thousands of strikers. During the Rising in 1916 Constance was second in command at St Stephen’s Green and was sentenced to death, though it was commuted to life imprisonment. Eva was granted permission to see her and crossed to Dublin with Esther. On the day they landed they saw newspaper placards announcing the execution that morning of James Connolly. They had been warned not to tell Constance but she guessed from their faces. Writing in Socialist Review a few weeks later Eva said that the rebellion has been a blow to all those who had hoped for a lessening of the hostility between England and Ireland:
    “But the severity with which the rebellion was crushed was, many of us believe, a far worse blow. England had her opportunity, an opportunity of treating the Irish rising as De Wet’s rising was treated in South Africa. The rising was crushed, her enemies were at her feet. What a glorious opportunity for killing with clemency the old tradition of hatred and the memory pf the atrocities of ’98 that have festered so long in the imaginations of the Irish people. By some malign fate, as ever England showed her hardest side in her dealings with Ireland. Those irresponsible and extraneous shootings and horrors which seem to be inseparable from the advance of a conquering army were not enough. Fourteen deliberate executions of men widely known and admired were carried out under heart-rending circumstances. And thus Ireland’s old tradition of defiance and hatred gets a new lease of life….”
    Constance was moved without warning to England but Esther, usually the more down-to-earth one, had a premonition one late afternoon and they set off to meet the Irish Mail, where Eva found Constance being escorted under armed guard to Aylesbury Gaol. They wrote to each other daily and the letters that survived were eventually published. Constance was let out of prison under an amnesty declared by the British government in June 1917 and returned to Ireland where she became even more involved what was now an Irish revolution. She was the first woman elected to British parliament in December 1918, but along with the rest of Sinn Fein did not go to London to take her seat, sitting in the Dail in Dublin instead. Constance was made Minister for Labour in the revolutionary government.
    Eva also gave support to Roger Casement who was tried for treason for his part in the Rising, attending court every day and trying in vain, along with others, to prevent his execution which took place on 3rd August 1916. Many of her poems written at this time reflected the sorrow she and others were suffering in the wake of the Rising and the executions and repression that followed and were published in 1918 under the title Broken Glory, dedicated to Roger Casemnet. In “Easter Week” she wrote thus:
    Grief for the noble dead
    Of one who did not share their strife
    And mourned that any blood was shed
    Yet felt the broken glory of their state
    Their strange heroic questioning of Fate
    Ribbon with gold the rags of this our life.

    Last Years
    By 1920 Eva and Esther’s work during the war and the trauma of the Rising and War of independence had greatly affected their health, with Eva remaining a semi-invalid for the last years of her life. The two women spent much time travelling in Italy. Always inclined to mysticism Eva became very interested in theosophy, though she still followed affairs in Ireland closely. On 1st July 1921 a letter written jointly by Eva and Clare Annesley appeared in the Manchester Guardian, drawing attention to the fact that a man called Patrick Casey had been condemned to death by a military court for possessing arms and 13 rounds of ammunition. They called on the government to intervene. “If there is to be any chance of peace with Ireland all executions must stop”.
    On 10th January 1923 the Manchester Evening Chronicle reported that Eva had refused to do jury service, stating that religion meant to her the determination to avoid punishing or hurting anybody, what ever they might have done. Her pacifist views remained undiminished. “It is absolutely impossible for me to take part in any proceedings which would, under any circumstances, involve me in any share, however small, in inflicting punishment on any human being. For many years I myself have held the opinion that it would be wrong for me to appeal to law for any problem to myself or to take part in passing judgement on anybody else. I, therefore, could not conscientiously sit on a jury.”
    Eva continued to write and publish poetry and took up the study of Greek in the last year of her life. She died at home on 30 June 1926 at her home in Hampstead. Her sister Constance followed her the following year. A complete collection of Eva’s poems, together with a biographical introduction by Esther, was published in 1929 and that same year in June Esther unveiled a beautiful memorial window to Eva in the Round House, Ancoats, sadly long since demolished and the window lost. Esther herself died in April 1938 and was buried in the same grave as Eva in the nearby St John’s churchyard.



    http://radicalmanchester.wordpress.com/2009/08/11/eva-gore-booth/


    I just wondered how many others like Eva were out there and active at that time.


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  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    Somerville, Edith (1858-1949) and Violet Martin (1862-1915)

    'Authors of numerous hunting sketches, short stories, and novels, Edith Somerville and Violet Martin were second cousins and members of the Anglo-Irish ascendancy. Somerville was born May 2, 1858, in Corfu and died October 8, 1949, at Castle Townshend, Ireland. She was raised in her family's West Cork eighteenth-century "big house."

    This upbringing provided material for her writings, most of which she co-authored with her companion Violet Martin, who was born at Ross House, County Galway, on June 11, 1862, and died on December 21, 1915, in the home she shared with Somerville in Drishane, County Cork.

    Sponsor Message.

    The collaborative works of the two women explore, often comically and with particular attention to Irish idiom, relations between the landed classes and the peasantry. A keen huntswoman and suffragist, Somerville was also in later life a close friend of lesbian composer Ethel Smyth.

    Trained as an illustrator, Somerville met Martin in 1886. The encounter was pivotal: As Somerville recalled in Irish Memories (1917), the meeting "proved the hinge of my life, the place where my fate, and hers, turned over. . . ." Somerville's is the language of Romantic Friendship.

    The two women became life and literary partners. Their families were initially shocked by the latter relationship: Writing seemed a vulgar occupation. Although both women took pseudonyms--Martin was "Martin Ross," Somerville was "Guilles Herring"--only Martin's endured.

    The cousins' collaboration yielded a highly successful partnership that lasted nearly three decades and, arguably, even longer. Although Martin died in 1915, Somerville believed that communication with her continued via automatic writing; Somerville's later works were published under both their names.

    Somerville and Ross are best known for Some Experiences of an Irish R.M. (1899), a collection of comic short stories, but the early novel The Real Charlotte (1894) is their most important literary achievement.

    Like the authors themselves, the two principal characters of the novel are cousins; and Charlotte can best be understood in terms of her cousin Francie, her physical, emotional, and economic counterpoint. Where Charlotte is plain and middle-aged, Francie is beautiful and young; where Charlotte is a ruthless schemer, Francie is a good-hearted blunderer; and where Charlotte steadily gains wealth and land, Francie refuses the marriage proposal that would afford her the same.

    In these respects opposites, the women are nonetheless both placed in plots of frustrated desire. Not even Francie's marriage to the man whom Charlotte loves and the latter's consequent attempts to ruin the couple financially can disrupt the powerful kinship between the two women. The romantic aspirations of each are thwarted because the woman lacks either one or both of those conventional ingredients of female mobility, looks and wealth. Charlotte and Francie constitute the real couple of the novel.

    Criticism of The Real Charlotte, perhaps the finest Irish novel of the nineteenth century, includes uneasy speculation concerning the authors' private lives, which serves to discount Somerville and Ross's achievements. The partners have been called "eccentric" and their literary productions "unlikely."

    Although Somerville never spoke of her relationship with Ross as lesbian, her memoirs indicate clearly that it was passionate and primary. To judge from the authors' thirteen published volumes, it was also nourishing.

    Margaret Soenser Breen'


    http://www.glbtq.com/literature/somerville_martin.html


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 45 Mairin1978


    According to Brian Lacey's book, everyone was gay-gay-gay. He does mention that Helena Molony was bisexual, but does not reference any of her lesbian mistresses. We know that her two great heterosexual loves were Bulmer Hobson and Sean Connolly. And she did spend the rest of her days with Evelyn O'Brien, a psychiatrist. Although, it was never confirmed that she and O'Brien had a sexual relationship. It could've been just friendship.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Ireland was/is deeply conservative - in some ways like your American Bible belt from a few years back, the most famous being William of Orange .
    William had several male favourites including a Rotterdam bailiff, Van Zuylen van Nijveld. He granted English titles to two of these alleged lovers, who served him loyally as courtiers: Hans Willem Bentinck, who became Earl of Portland; and Arnold Joost van Keppel, who he made Earl of Albemarle.

    Arnold Joost van Keppel, 1st Earl of Albemarle, and lord of Voorst in Gelderland (c. 1670 - May 30, 1718), son of Oswald van Keppel and his wife Anna Geertruid van Lintello, was born in Holland about 1670. He became page to William of Orange, accompanied him to England in 1688, and became groom of the bedchamber and master of the robes in 1695. On 10 February 1696/7 William made van Keppel earl of Albemarle, Viscount Bury and Baron Ashford.

    In 1700 William gave him lands of enormous extent in Ireland, but parliament obliged the king to cancel this grant, and William then bestowed on him £50,000. The same year he was made a knight of the Garter. Meanwhile he had served both with the English and Dutch troops, was major-general in 1697, colonel of several regiments and governor of 's Hertogenbosch.

    http://www.irelandinformationguide.com/William_III_of_England

    King Billy ‘preferred pink’ to Orange


    2807kingbilly_l_193840t.jpg
    A gay activist claims there is evidence William of Orange had male lovers.










    Monday July 28 2008

    A leading gay rights activist has raised the temperature in the North’s row over homosexuality by claiming there was evidence King William of Orange had male lovers.
    Peter Tatchell highlighted the controversial allegation as evidence of hypocrisy over homosexuality in the North, but was condemned by unionists for setting out to deliberately cause offence.
    The campaigner. who lobbies internationally for full rights for the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community, will tonight deliver the Amnesty International
    Pride Lecture in Belfast. Mr Tatchell’s appearance at Belfast’s week-long gay pride festival comes after senior DUP politician Iris Robinson sparked controversy by branding homosexuality an abomination.
    Mrs Robinson, who is the wife of the Northern Ireland First Minister, Peter Robinson, has condemned all attacks on the gay |community, but Mr Tatchell said: "It is particularly hypocritical for unionist politicians to play the homophobic card when their hero William of Orange had male lovers."
    King William was married, but some academics have raised hackles by pointing to his promotion of young men to high office as evidence of bisexuality.
    A DUP spokesman dismissed the allegation and accused Mr Tatchell of setting out to antagonise.
    "This is the kind of deliberately offensive and provocative comment and shock tactics that he has used in the past," the party spokesman said.


    http://www.herald.ie/national-news/king-billy-lsquopreferred-pinkrsquo-to-orange-1442148.html


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    In the early 70's Ulick O'Connor's biography of Brendan Behan created a bit of controversy about his alleged bi-sexuality




    A cavalier at home in the world


    By Ulick O'Connor

    Sunday November 02 2003

    IN THE summer of 1970 Hamish Hamilton published Ulick O'Connor's biography of Brendan Behan which is still in print over 30 years later (170,000 copies). At the time he was staying in the Savoy hotel, London, paid for by the English newspaper which was serialising the book. JULY 16, 1970 Just as I am leaving the Savoy to go out I am called to the phone. It is my friend Gerry O'Flaherty in Dublin to say that Beatrice Behan has a highly snotty letter in today's Irish Times about the biography. She objects to it mainly on the grounds that I have devoted two pages to homosexual aspects of Brendan's life. It had become quite clear after I began to write the book that Brendan was bisexual. Being in Borstal for three years he had availed himself of whatever sexual cocktail was available. But as he was primarily heterosexual I had felt his proclivities in relation to the male sex should not be overemphasised. However, it would have been against all my ideas of what a biography should be about to have omitted a mention of this side of his character. I had had impeccable sources, I used them and did not overuse them.
    When I get back to the Savoy I call Derek Jameson of the Sunday Mirror, who have bought the serialisation rights to the Behan biography. Derek says he will call back in half an hour. When he does so, there are firm instructions. I'm to get out of the hotel immediately and go back to Dublin and not to answer any questions from the other newspapers. Beatrice's letter will be in tomorrow's English papers. He has spoken to Irene Joseph, my agent, and she has agreed that I won't give any interviews until the book is published.
    At the airport, although the biography shouldn't yet be on sale, I thought I'd have a look on the ever-watchful WH Smith bookshelves. There is Brendan's face looking down at me in the midst of a huge display. I quickly buy a copy and flick through. It occurs to me that Dominic, Brendan's brother, who lives in West Sussex, might not have read it and he may think from all the press goings-on that I've written a pornographic work on his brother. Now that I have the book in my hand it seems essential somehow to get it into Dominic's possession. I go out to the taxi rank and ask a cabman would he take a parcel to Crawley. He charges me £20 but takes the package containing the book and a brief note to Dominic from myself.
    JULY 18, 1970 Back in Dublin. Holy murder has broken loose. Phone is going ding dong. I'm accused of having crucified Brendan. Of course practically nobody has read the book yet. I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow when the Sunday papers appear.
    A nun called Sister Dunne rings. She knew Beatrice well. Says she will talk to her on my behalf. Apropos of what I am not sure. She adds that her father taught James Joyce at school in Belvedere, and that as a teenager Joyce used to be found kneeling in the college chapel with his arms stretched out before the Blessed Sacrament. Whew! John Ryan, patron of the Bailey, writer and artist, one of Behan's closest friends, rings to give sound advice. I go in to meet him and have a drink in the Bailey. He says, "Keep mum and let the storm break." Tells me a marvellous anecdote about Brendan's father-in-law, Cecil Salkeld, which I wish I had known before the book came out. Salkeld is an artist of exceptional talent and a man of letters. He made a decision, however, in 1956 to go to bed, and hasn't got up since. Beatrice's sister Celia and her mother, Florrie, daily cater to the 'invalid's needs. When John went to visit him recently he was delighted to find a live canary perched on Salkeld's bald head. It had obviously acquired the status of a familiar, for when Salkeld turned his face to Ryan the canary shifted itself and dug in its little claws to readjust its stance.
    The BBC were on this evening trying to put words into my mouth about Dominic. Sunday papers' news sour enough. But there is a windfall from the Sunday Times. In Alan Brien's 'People' column he describes how he had talked to Dominic earlier in the week:
    "First reactions from the Behans were unpromising. Brendan's brother, Dominic, for example: 'O'Connor got me on the telephone while he was writing the book and Brendan's supposed homosexuality was one of the questions he apparently wanted answered. From the time he was a child I slept with Brendan, I went to Paris with Brendan, no one was closer to him than me and I've never heard anyone suggest he was a homosexual.' Mr Behan added that if he went to the party on Thursday it would only be 'to take Mr O'Connor by the scruff of the neck and sock him half way round London'. Understandably, the prospect of a confrontation between Mr O'Connor and the Behans has worried Mr Desmond Patrick Michael Gorges, a publicist of the O'Brien Organisation which is organising Thursday's party.
    "'I'm fighting the issue,' Mr Gorges said gloomily. 'I don't want these people here at all, but I presume we're going to get them. Ulick said to me yesterday he had all the addresses and was going ahead with it. I tried to talk to him at the Savoy where he was having lunch with the lady PRO and someone from the newspapers. I heard a voice in the background say, "Tell him I'll ring him back." "Well, I'm going to go to Fortnum and Masons for my booze for the weekend and -- Ulick."
    'As for the party, with the Irish ambassador and half the Guinness tribe there, well, it'll be the wars of Limerick, that's all I can say.'
    And then it came to pass, as temperatures rose, that a special messenger delivered a copy of Mr O'Connor's book to Dominic Behan's home. 'I've been up all night reading it,' Mr Behan said, contritely. 'Speaking for myself personally I think it's a good book, highly objective.'
    "So Thursday may be a mellow one for the Irish in London after all. For, as Mr O'Connor himself said last week: 'The Behan family are highly civilised people.'"


    http://www.independent.ie/national-news/a-cavalier-at-home-in-the-world-496396.html


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    The Origans of Sheila "an effeminate male" and the article touches on homosexuality in Australian penal colonies

    Really though, if there was a slang term for homosexuals in Ireland then it was not exactly hidden
    [SIZE=+2]Who is Sheila?[/SIZE]
    [SIZE=+1]Dymphna Lonergan[/SIZE]


    In 1828 the Sydney newspaper, the Monitor, reported a street fight that had occurred in Sydney on Saint Patrick’s day. The report included the comment that following the fight ‘many a piteous Shela stood wiping the gory locks of her Paddy’. This is the earliest written evidence of the use of the Australian word sheila. The Oxford English Dictionary defines sheila as ‘a young girl or young woman; a girlfriend. Playfully affectionate and predominantly in male use’. The OED also includes the Irish origin of the word:
    It may represent a generic use of the (originally Irish) personal name Sheila, the counterpart of Paddy...in any case, it became assimilated to this at some later stage.
    We can detect some uncertainty in the OED commentary on the word sheila; a sense that some information does not fit, that something is missing. More recently, the author of The Dinkum Dictionary, Susan Butler, is confident that
    ‘Sheila’ was a common female name in Ireland, used alongside the name ‘Paddy’ to represent the archetypal Irish couple. From this early usage (dating from the 1820s in Britain) ‘Sheila’ came to mean any female, whether Irish or not. This British use of ‘sheila’ was then transported to the colonies.[1]
    I suggest that the reason we have such divergent views on the origin of the Australian English word sheila is because of an etymological error made from the beginning. It is surprising that no one, apparently, has questioned these written assertions that the name Sheila is common in Ireland. It is not. Nor has the name Sheila ever been used in the generic sense of a counterpart to Paddy in Ireland. Neither was the name Sheila common in eighteenth century Australia. Between 1788 and 1828 over two thousand female convicts were transported to Australia from Irish ports.[1] The most common name among them was Mary, followed by Ann/e, Catherine, Margaret, Elizabeth, Brigid and Sara. These, of course, are official first names. Many of these women would have used Irish names or diminutives of the English names, such as: M·ire,¡ine, C·it, Kitty, Kathleen, Peg, Maggie, …ilis, BrÌd, Bridie and Biddy. There were no Sheilas on board those convict ships. The Irish language name SÌle is usually translated into English as Julia. There were no Julias on board these convict ships. That the word sheila as a term for a ‘girl’ or ‘girlfriend’ in Australian English is indisputable. That the generic nature of the name derives from the Irish female first name is disputable. If a generic name, a counterpart to Paddy, had existed at that time it would most likely have been the name Biddy, a shortened for of Brigid. This is a name that was used in America in the nineteenth century as a term for an Irish servant (see entry for biddy in the OED). Given this, the question arises as to why the name Sheila became associated with that of an Irishwoman in Australia, and later as a generic term for Australian women? Why did Australian sheila not also surface in Britain or America, places that experienced a greater number of Irish migrants at any time than Australia? These factors cast doubt on the popular belief that Aus. sheila derived from the Irish female name Sheila. The Irish language, not Irish English, provides a more satisfactory explanation for the origin of the Australian word sheila.
    In Ireland, the Irish language word SÌle, which is always written with a capital ‘S’, is used generically in the world of nature and mythology.[1] As applied to humans, however, it is usually a derogatory term, especially when referring to male behaviour. The following are some Irish dictionary definitions:
    SÌle: ‘An effeminate man’. ‘A man too fond of
    female society, a mollycoddle’. ‘He’s around the
    house like an old sheelah’[1]
    Sheela: Used in the South as a reproachful
    name for a boy or man inclined to do work
    or interest himself in affairs properly belonging
    to women. See ‘Molly’.[1]
    SÌle: HomaighnÈasach
    This last dictionary definition translates as ‘homosexual’. It occurs in FoclÛir na CollaÌochta, a recent Irish language dictionary of sexual terminology.[1] The majority of the words in this dictionary do not occur in standard Irish language dictionaries. As the OED suggests, the Australian word sheila is also ‘predominantly in male use’. Furthermore G A Wilkes, in his study of Australian colloquialisms, states that ìno woman would refer to herself as a ‘sheila’î.[1] I suggest that this male connection is where Australian sheila is evocative of the Irish language word SÌle. Both words are also pronounced the same.
    The use of the Australian term sheila by males towards males is not generally mentioned in dictionaries which focus on standard Australian English. Significantly, however, The Penguin Book of Australian Slang[1] records a secondary meaning for sheila as: ‘A man who is weak, effeminate, lacking in bravado’. Here, I suggest, is a connection with the definitions discussed earlier of the Irish word SÌle. It is significant that in Australia the official recognition that sheila may be used by males of males arises in a dictionary of slang words. It is likely that Ausralian sheila was originally a taboo word for a homosexual. In Ireland, the only dictionary to admit to the meaning of ‘homosexual’ for the word SÌle, is that recent dictionaries of sexual terminology, a work that is written entirely in the Irish language. Such words are apparently ‘taboo’ in Ireland today. They are reserved for those who use the Irish language. In this they are out of reach of the majority of the population.
    In his book Iniskillane,[1] a social study of family and community in the West of Ireland, Hugh Brody outlines the divide in the roles of a typical rural Irish husband and his wife in the 1970s. The daily ritual consisted of the wife rising first and preparing breakfast for her husband and the children. The husband then went to work in the fields. The couple never ate together, and in the evenings it was customary for the husband to visit neighbours or have neighbours visit him while his wife continued with the household and family work. Finally the husband went to bed before his wife. Male and female lived separate lives, in effect, due to 'a highly developed division of sexual roles'.[1] We can presume that any noticeable crossing of this divide would have been commented upon, and in the case of a male, through the use of Irish language terminology such as cistineoir, piteog, and SÌle. Diarmaid ” Muirithe in A Dictionary of Anglo-Irish, provides for the word cistineoir the definition: A cotquean. 'A man who spends a lot of time about the house taking an interest in women's work’. For the word piteog he provides the definition:
    An effeminate man. 'A man who prys into things, in
    the household or elsewhere, that are supposedly or
    understood to belong entirely to the sphere of women.
    In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Irish convicts who were transported to Australia would have experienced not only a change in landscape and climate but also a way of life that was new and no doubt alienating. Especially in those early days when there was a shortage of females, and with the nature of a convict's life in the Penal Colony, work such as washing clothes, cooking and cleaning would have fallen to the male. It may be that those who were seen to be doing this work well, or who may have taken undue interest in it would have been ridiculed for demonstrating effeminacy. It may have been in this climate that the term SÌle was applied to males by males. However, given the double use of the word SÌle in Ireland, to denote not just effeminacy but also homosexuality, we must conclude that the surfacing of this Irish word in Australia may have been prompted by stress following undue exposure to this way of life:
    A speaker’s ability to cope with the difficulties
    of language varies according to his state of mind,
    and it is well known that any kind of emotional
    stress, favourable or unfavourable tends to promote
    a reversion to the primary language.[1]
    Many Irish-speaking convicts under the system of transportation to Australia were men from rural areas, brought up with social norms some of which were peculiar to their own small part of the world. Even before arrival in Australia, conditions on board the convict ships necessitated participation in what may have been considered women's work: cooking, cleaning, the washing of clothes and so on. However, convicts were also entering a world in which, according to Robert Hughes, homosexual activity
    was as utterly pervasive in the world of hulks and penal
    settlement as it is in modern penitentiaries.[1]
    Hughes explains further that homosexuality was also the ‘norm’ in Hyde Oark Barracks in Sydney; young boys especially were preyed upon by old lags. It is likely that few of these boys would have had any homosexual experience before they got to Australia. This would have been doubly traumatic for a young rural Irish Catholic boy, who lived in a society where such behaviour was not only condemned by the Church, but also denied emphatically by society. In 1832 The Molesworth Committee received testimony from the Catholic Bishop of Sydney of the extent of Homosexual activity in the Colony, and its effects on the young. The bishop quoted one particular youth as saying: ‘Such things no one knows in Ireland’.[1] In addition, an 1847 report on Norfolk Island noted that
    In general, it was the English who turned to
    sodomy; the Irish Catholic prisoners abjured it.[1]
    Whether for the purpose of condemning the activity or merely talking about it, the Irish-speaking convicts had a word for a person who took part in homosexual activity; he was a SÌle. This was a word that was known and understood among the Irish convicts and could be passed on to others but yet was a secret word and so safe to use even in the hearing of authorities. The circumstances that were favourable to the utterance of and continued use of the Irish language word SÌle in Australia were: the reversal of male/female domestic roles; homosexual activity of a violent nature; and strong religious beliefs.
    The probability that Ir. SÌle meaning ‘Homosexual’ is the origin for Australian sheila is further enhanced when we consider that the word sheila as a generic name for an (Irish) female did not surface in Britain nor in America, countries which experienced far greater numbers of Irish settlers than did Australia. The Australian word sheila is geographical. It reflects the nature of Australian society at that time. Finally the Australian word sheila is a word used almost exclusively by males, is always slightly derogatory when used of females, and, according to The Penguin Book of Australian Slang can also mean
    a man who is weak, effeminate, lacking in bravado
    In the underworld where slang lives, this connotation for Australian sheila more clearly reflects an origin in Ir. SÌle ‘effeminate male’,’ homosexual,’ than the traditionally held origin of the Irish Christian name Sheila. The Irish language may also provide clues as to how the Australian term sheila is primarily applied to females. Most importantly, we must look to the Irish language directly as a possible source for Australian English words of unknown or uncertain origin. For too long the lure of Irish English has masked this other, more potent, source.
    Who Is Sheila?

    [1] The most famous is the SÌle na gCÌoch, (often anglicised as Sheela na Gigs), the name given to grotesque female figures of uncertain origin and purpose that adorn the walls of churches in Ireland, and to a lesser extent those of England and France. In the world of nature there is the SÌle na bPÌce ‘earwig’, literally,’ SÌle of the Forks’, SÌle na bPortach ‘heron’, literally, ‘SÌle of the Bog’ and in the phrase SÌle chaoch a dhÈanamh de dhuine, literally ‘to make a SÌle of someone’, figuratively ‘to make a fool of someone’. Finally, the name SÌle is applied to Ireland herself, in the term SÌle na Geira, the word Geira in this case may be a corruption of gadhar, ‘dog’. The histories surrounding these words and phrases have been lost with the loss of the Irish language.

    http://www.anu.edu.au/andc/ozwords/December%202001/Sheila.html


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    How about some 'English immorality versus Irish Morality'.

    Here is another version of the story

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    Homosexuality in Post Office History

    Posted on 08/02/2010 by postalheritage| Leave a comment
    To commemorate Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Trans History Month, BPMA Archivist Helen Dafter examines the Post Office’s past attitudes to homosexuality and homosexual employees.
    When thinking of The Royal Mail Archive most people immediately think of stamps, or how letters got from one place to another. It is less common for people to consider how the materials in the archive might reflect wider social history. One aspect of this social history is how the issue of homosexuality was dealt with by the Post Office.
    Conduct of staff and how this may reflect on the image of the Post Office was a matter of concern. This was particularly the case with senior members of staff-whose position would have a more direct impact on the overall reputation of the Post Office. One such was the Prosecution of Gustavus Cornwall, Secretary to the General Post Office in Dublin in the late nineteenth century. In July 1884 Cornwall lodged a libel claim against the publication United Ireland for articles printed in May 1884 implying that he was associated with James Ellis French (head of the Criminal Investigation Department in Dublin Castle), and guilty of the same crimes alleged against Ellis. The pattern of this case was similar to that of the case of Oscar Wilde a decade later.
    0125-IMG-5184.jpgA cartoon about the United Ireland trial captioned "Flogging them to the fight: Earl Spencer having in vain attempted to crush United Ireland himself, by fair means, goads on the foulest scoundrels in the Castle Service, under pain of losing their salaries, to assail the obnoxious newspaper with a legal battering-ram of £40,000 damages".

    Gustavus Cornwall lost his case for libel on 7 July 1884 and was suspended from duty in the Post Office – a suspension which lasted until his compulsory resignation in August 1885. Shortly after the libel action Cornwall was prosecuted for Felony (Sodomy) and conspiracy with Martin Kirwan (of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers) to “procure others to commit diverse lewd and filthy practices”. He was swiftly acquitted on the Felony charge, but the jury was unable to reach a decision on the conspiracy and he was retried and acquitted in October 1884.
    In light of his acquittals Cornwall requested a new trial for the libel case. This was refused in November 1884 and Cornwall appealed. Finally a new trial was granted in May 1885. This trial was only to consider whether the original claims of felony were libellous, it did not address the claims of conspiracy. At this point Cornwall decided that he did not have sufficient funds to pursue a new libel trial and thus failed to take it further.
    0125-Cornwall-depositions.jpgThe copy deposition of the Queen a. Cornwall & Others - Unnatural offenses

    It was decided that given the circumstances it would not be appropriate to allow Cornwall a pension – despite 45 years of employment by the Post Office. He was advised to resign and offered full pay for the period of his suspension up to 31st July 1885. This decision reflects the impact accusations of this nature could have. Although Cornwall was acquitted of all charges, the fact that the initial libel trial had found against him, combined with the fact that the acquittal on the conspiracy charge was due to insufficient evidence, damaged his reputation seriously enough for the Post Office to cease all association with him, lest it also be tarnished.
    Seventy years later the Post Office was still struggling with issues associated with “sexual perversion and indecency”. These issues were wide ranging as outlined in the Ritson Report on Discipline in the Civil Service circa 1955 (POST 122/8049). This report defines sexual offences as “these offences include homosexual offences, indecent assault, indecent exposure, and rape”. Files from this period reflect changing societal attitudes at this time. The shift towards a medical approach to sexual offences begins to emerge, although in correspondence relating to the case of Mr A F Gardner in 1958, a postal employee convicted of “gross indecency and publishing obscene photographs” and sentenced to 18 months imprisonment, states that “there is no evidence that homosexuality is in itself a disease, and a person with homosexual propensities will not necessarily respond to medical or psychiatric treatment” (POST 122/8050). These discussions were occurring against the backdrop of the Report of the Department on Homosexual Offences and Prostitution (Wolfenden Report), published in September 1957 and recommending that homosexual activity, in private, between consenting adults should be decriminalised, and stating that homosexuality should not be regarded as a disease.


    http://postalheritage.wordpress.com/2010/02/08/homosexuality-in-post-office-history


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    For some reason homosexual orgies are part of folklore associated with the Hellfire Club.

    The Hellfire Club

    Known locally as The Devil's Kitchen or simply The Hell-Fire Club it is inextricably linked to the infamous Dublin Hell-Fire Club whose viciousness and arrogance is still remembered and whose history is recounted below.

    The history of Dublin's Hell-Fire Club, Rathfarnham. Overlooking Dublin city from the south west, at an altitude of 383m (1264ft), is a foreboding ruined hunting lodge, marked on Ordnance Survey maps as the 'Hell-Fire Club'. Current urban lore insists on telling us that it was - and still is - a site commonly used for the practice of 'Satanism' and other occult activities, and that the Devil himself made a brief appearance there at some unspecified time in the past. In a story similar to the one attached to Loftus Hall (a haunted house on the Hook Peninsula), a mysterious stranger seeks shelter on a stormy night, and a card game ensues. A member of the household drops a card, and sees that below the table, the otherwise affable and charming visitor has a cloven hoof. His or her screams made the Devil 'aware of her discovery, and he at once vanished in a thunder-clap leaving a brimstone smell behind him'

    At the beginning of the 18th century, a time of sharp contrast between the fabulously wealthy and the destitute, there lived a class of gentry called 'bucks' who spent their lives pursuing enjoyment in a most violent and eccentric manner. Their behaviour was viewed at the time as an insult to the most sacred principals of religion, an affront to Almighty God himself, and corrupting to the minds and morals of young people.

    This life consisted; it is said, of gambling, blaspheming, whoring, drinking, violence and even Satanism. The Dublin Hell-Fire Club was founded by Richard Parsons, 1st Earl of Rosse, and Colonel Jack St Leger. Jack St Leger, as his name suggests, had deep sporting instincts and his country house near Athy in County Kildare was the haunt of the leading gamblers and racing men of the day. Huge amounts of money changed hands at parties here, and vast quantities of liquor were consumed. It was in this atmosphere that the Dublin Hell-Fire Club was borne. Its motto was "do as you will".

    The club had various headquarters around Dublin such as the now demolished Eagle Tavern on Cork Hill. On occasion at the Eagle, members would sit around a circular table upon which was placed a huge punch bowl of scaltheen, a rancid mixture of Irish whiskey and melted butter. After toasting the Devil and drinking to the 'damnation of the Church and its prelates' the bucks would pour scaltheen over a cat, especially obtained for the occasion, and set fire to the poor creature. Once a wretched animal escaped its tormentors and ran flaming into the street. This caused near panic to the public outside the tavern, as the screaming cat blazed by.

    Another favourite meeting place was Daly's Club, College Green. Here the shutters were closed in the morning so that members with hangovers could gamble by candlelight. One gruesome incident occurred when a member, said to be 'Buck' Sheely was caught cheating at cards. A 'court' was convened presided over by 'Buck' English who dressed for the part in the skin, tail and horns of a bull. His verdict was that Sheely was to be hurled through the window of the third floor gaming room. When honour had been satisfied, gambling was resumed. Sheely died in the fall.

    The Hell-Fire Club of Dublin really came into its own, though, when it took over Mountpelier House. According to local legend, an ancient cromlech or cairn erected to the old pagan gods of Ireland had been demolished to make way for the lodge. The house was therefore said to be ill-fated but the legend only enhanced it in the eyes of the club members. Its other attributes of its remoteness well suited the bucks and its commanding view of Dublin had a powerful appeal to their insufferable arrogance. For at least 20 years Mountpelier House flourished as a den of all kinds of vice and blasphemy. It was ruined by the bucks in around 1740.

    The story of the disaster is well known. At this time the 'Principal' of the Hell-Fire club was a man of enormous wealth called Richard Chappell Whaley. A descendant of Oliver Cromwell, Whaley was a tyrant who was feared and hated by the native population. His nickname was 'Burn-Chapel' Whaley because of his fanatical hatred of religion in general and Roman Catholicism in particular. He used to amuse himself on Sundays by riding around the district setting fire to the thatch of Catholic chapels. His pyromania caused the downfall of Mountpelier House.

    After an unfrocked clergyman had performed a Black Mass in one of the two upstairs rooms in Mountpelier House, the ceremony ending in the usual drunken revelry, a footman picking his way through the sprawling bodies spilt some drink on Richard Whaley's coat. Whaley reacted by pouring brandy over the footman and setting him alight. The man fled downstairs clutching at a tapestry hanging by the hall door, trying to douse the flames. Within minutes the whole house was ablaze. Many bucks died, being too drunk and helpless to escape. Whaley managed to leap out of a window along with a few of his more sober companions. Local people watched the blazing pyre convinced that God had taken revenge. Whaley's son, Thomas 'Buck' Whaley was to become, in his short life, the most famous and flamboyant buck of all.

    Born in 1766, it was 'Buck' Whaley who rallied the Hell-Fire club from the low ebb to which it had sunk after the burning of Mountpelier House declaring his intention of 'defying God and man in nightly revels'. Black Masses and homosexual orgies were the principal features of these sessions, though Whaley himself had a mistress whom he kept well away from these meetings.

    'Buck' Whaley initially squandered the fortune he inherited from his father, but then he won an even greater fortune at the gaming tables as well as in some bizarre wagers. In one wager he won £25,000 from the Duke of Leinster by riding to Jerusalem and back within a year. Needless to say, it was not a pious pilgrimage and he later boasted of having 'drunk his way around the Holy Places'. On an another occasion, for a bet of £12,000, he rode a beautiful Arab stallion in a death-defying leap from the drawing room of his father's house on Stephen's Green to the street some 30 feet below. He won his wager but killed the horse.

    Contrition and remorse, however, began to enter into 'Buck' Whaley's mind and so he resolved to seek absolution for his sins. While kneeling in the darkened nave in St Audoen's Church he had a vision of the Devil creeping down the aisle towards him. Seized with terror, Whaley ran from the church and fled Ireland forever.

    He lived the last few years of his life, with his mistress, in a mansion he built on the Isle of Man which is still known today as 'Whaley's Folly'. He died at the age of 34 of sclerosis of the liver. In his memoirs, a repentant 'Buck' Whaley wrote that he felt 'no trifling sensation from the prospect that this simple narrative may persuade the young and inexperienced, if the language of truth has the power of persuasion, that a life of dissipation can produce no enjoyment, and that tumultuous pleasures afford no real happiness.'

    With his death the Dublin Hell-Fire Club ceased to exist.http://www.rockabillyireland.com/forum/index.php?topic=358.0;prev_next=next


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Here is a Chapter from a book called Queer Attachents by one Sally Munt

    The Chapter the Shameful Histories of Edmund Burke,...the Earl of Castlehaven & Diverse Servants - its around 20 pages chock full of scandal

    http://books.google.ie/books?id=P75wzSfVM0cC&pg=PA31&lpg=PA31&dq=irish+homosexual+executions&source=bl&ots=KYKuqkY7e_&sig=7itYtPfIASTfOKQiv7YCINy1-JU&hl=en&ei=Aup8TdbnM8OxhQeH6JDeBg&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=7&ved=0CEAQ6AEwBjgK#v=onepage&q&f=false

    Now it strikes me that there is a huge difference between some characters and events which are the popular depiction and what actually happened.

    The punishment and deaths of Reed & Smith while being piloried was gruesome.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 24,231 ✭✭✭✭ejmaztec


    Some of the gays allegedly had a hand in lifting the Irish Crown Jewels, Ernest Shackleton's brother Francis, for one, and Sir Arthur Vickers for two.:(

    http://www.historyireland.com/volumes/volume9/issue4/features/?id=113584
    Other, largely honorary, office-holders in the Office of Arms were Francis Shackleton (Dublin Herald), Pierce Gun Mahony (Herald), Mr. Horlock (clerk and Cork Herald), and Francis Bennett-Goldney (Mayor of Canterbury and Athlone Pursuivant). Francis Shackleton, brother of Sir Ernest, the famous Irish-born Antarctic explorer, was a close friend of Vicars and lived with him for nearly two and a half years in Dublin. Shackleton was a charismatic figure who ingratiated himself into the higher echelons of society. The king’s brother-in-law, John Campbell, ninth Duke of Argyll, was a close associate. A practising homosexual, Shackleton’s friends were not of the type ‘to inspire confidence among the police or the public’. Mahony was a favoured nephew of Vicars (son of his half-brother). Apart from Vicars himself, nobody did much or accomplished anything, none attended in an orderly way to definite duties, with the exception of the cleaning lady Mrs Farrell who cleaned the offices in the mornings.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    ejmaztec wrote: »
    Some of the gays allegedly had a hand in lifting the Irish Crown Jewels, Ernest Shackleton's brother Francis, for one, and Sir Arthur Vickers for two.:(

    http://www.historyireland.com/volumes/volume9/issue4/features/?id=113584

    I don't imagine it was because they were gay, I imagine it was because they were thieves.

    An unsolved mystery.
    Apart from Vicars himself, nobody did much or accomplished anything, none attended in an orderly way to definite duties, with the exception of the cleaning lady Mrs Farrell who cleaned the offices in the mornings.

    .........Mrs Farrell :eek:


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  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    One thing does strike me.

    Try as I might , I cannot come up with info on the lifestyles of ordinary gay men and women in history or social history.

    Eva Gore-Booth stands out as a fairly rounded and sensible woman.

    How were they treated.

    Socially, how did they adapt. Did it influence career choice.

    In modern times - did they come to Dublin or emigrate.

    What legislation was there and was it enforced. Forced hospitalisations ?

    Was homosexuality treated like a mental illness.

    Were they forced to marry.

    Now I grew up in Cork, and, in the early 80's a guy called Dennehy was elected Lord Mayor. One of the things he did was hold a Civic Reception for his cousin the drag artist Danny LaRue. There was a gay bar called the Blues Bar on the corner of McCurtain St and Patricks Hill. Very prominent.

    Huge coverage in the Cork Examiner.

    I do not know if Cork was more liberal but we were socialised to accept that gay people were different but acceptable.

    There was an Irish language activist friend of my mothers who ran a shop. He was gay but was known for his Irish. The showbands also had there share and someone else in my family did business with a few and sold them instruments and equipment -back in the day.

    So what do we know or do we know anything ?

    Has anyone got any ideas ?


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 5,650 ✭✭✭sensibleken


    I have come accross two examples of homosexuality in early Ireland. Lisa M Bitel makes reference to one Lasbian couple in 'Land of women: Tales of sex and gender from early Ireland' I dont have it in front of me so appologies for not having an original source.

    Adomnán makes reference in his 'Life of St Columba' of a king and his male servant 'for whom he had carnal love' involved in plot an intrigue. However in both cases their sexuality was a passing reference and was not of such concern that it warranted more comment on. Which I think emphasises what was said earlier that the really didnt care too much

    edit to add: alternative title for this thread, 'Sodom and Begorrah!'...sorry.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    I have seen something on Vikings and must have a look .


    edit to add: alternative title for this thread, 'Sodom and Begorrah!'...sorry.
    it could even be a musical :p

    if TG4 ever dub the Carry on Movies ..........


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 24,231 ✭✭✭✭ejmaztec


    CDfm wrote: »
    Were they forced to marry.

    I think that Sir Arthur Vickers had a "lavender marriage" quite late in life, after the publicity surrounding the Crown Jewels incident, so he must have felt that it was the right time to cover his arse as it were. His wife was the daughter of a Yorkshire vicar, and she lived with him in Kerry until the IRA shot him on the lawn outside Kilmorna House in 1921. His widow hopped on a train the next morning, and went back to England, never to return to Ireland.

    The higher the status, the more need for social survival through marriage.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    That is interesting - Brian suggested I looked up Judith Butler who says that a lot of it is airbrushed out of history.


    So you only read about the upper classes.

    Here are extracts from from some British Articles - a bit on the law and punishments and a bit on medicine and treatments.

    I wonder what it was like in Ireland ??

    One obvious flaw with Strangers is that it focuses almost exclusively on the upper echelons, a problem Robb attributes to historical record. It is also unfortunate that the book is tilted more toward gay male life than lesbian life. To read Strangers is to hear a lot about Tchaikovsky, André Gide, Walt Whitman, Henry James, Marcel Proust, and John Maynard Keynes, men of privileged intellect or station, or both, who had access to a larger network of people and whose lives were individually documented.
    In 1533 Henry VIII passed the Buggery Act 1533, a sodomy law which made anal intercourse (as well as bestiality) an offence punishable by hanging, regardless of gender. Even prior to this homosexuals were tortured and killed for religious reasons.[citation needed] In 1861 section 61 of the Offences against the Person Act 1861 removed the death penalty for homosexuality. However, male homosexual acts still remained illegal and were punishable by imprisonment and in 1885 section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885 extended the laws regarding homosexuality to include any kind of sexual activity between males. Lesbians were never acknowledged or targeted by legislation.


    Thats probably why we get the crinimal history as opposed to the social history.But until recently it was , in Britain treated as an illness.
    Introduction

    Religious objections to same sex attraction between men have existed since at least the Middle Ages1 but were first endorsed in law in England in the 1533 Act of Henry VIII, which classified sodomy as an illegal act between man and woman, man and man, or man and beast.2 This law, which was re-enacted in 1563, was the basis for all male homosexual convictions until 1885, when the Criminal Assessment Act extended the legal sanction to any sexual contact between males.2 The end of the 19th century saw the advent of the concept of homosexuality as a pathological medical or psychological condition,36 which legitimised treatments to change it. The social construction of the diagnosis of homosexuality occurred within the context of powerful sociopolitical forces against any variation from the heterosexual norm that prevailed for much of the 20th century.6 Though sexual behaviour in private between adult men was decriminalised in Britain in 1967, treatments to change homosexuals into heterosexuals peaked in the 1960s and early 1970s.7 However, we have little knowledge of the patients who experienced, or the professionals who administered, such treatments. We conducted an oral history study of treatments to change same sex attraction in Britain from 1950 tounderstand why people received treatment, how they experienced it, and how it affected their lives.
    Sodomy was punishable by death in England until 1861. Forty-six people were executed in England alone between 1810 and 1835.

    Strangers builds its case slowly, and the first half of the book almost refutes the author’s thesis. Although Robb credits doctors with giving gays a sense of community, a place to tell their stories, the downside of their diagnoses seems hardly worth it. Many physicians believed that men and women could masturbate themselves into "sexual inversion," as it was then called. The criteria for identifying gays seem even more haphazard. For some reason, the ability to urinate in a straight line was a tell-tale sign. One medical man devised a rather ingenious test. "Throw an object at the lap of a sitting homosexual, said the Berlin doctor Magnus Hirschfeld in 1913, and he will automatically open his legs to catch it. A lesbian, being a natural trouser-wearer, will close her legs."


    For the brother of one participant, there was no life after treatment. He died in hospital due to the side effects of apomorphine. Several sought out further treatment, usually private psychoanalysis; none had further behavioural treatments. Some believed that the treatments had helped themto deal with their sexual feelings but not in the way intended:
    Treatments

    The age at which people received treatment ranged from 13 to 40 years, with most being in their late adolescence and early 20s. Treatments described were mainly administered in NHS hospitals throughout Britain and in one case a military hospital. Those treated privately usually underwent psychoanalysis. The most common treatment (from the early 1960s to early 1970s, with one case in 1980) was behavioural aversion therapy with electric shocks (11 participants). Nausea induced by apomorphine as the aversive stimulus was reported less often (four participants in the early 1960s).
    In electric shock aversion therapy, electrodes were attached to the wrist or lower leg and shocks were administered while the patient watched photographs of men and women in various stages of undress. The aim was to encourage avoidance of the shock by moving to photographs of the opposite sex. It was hoped that arousal to same sex photographs would reduce, while relief arising from shock avoidance would increase, interest in opposite sex images. Some patients reported undergoing detailed examination before treatment, while others were assessed more perfunctorily. Patients would recline on a bed or sit in a chair in a darkened room, either alone or with the professional behind a screen. Each treatment lasted about 30 minutes, with some participants given portable electricshock boxes to use at home while they induced sexual fantasies. Patients receiving apomorphine were often admitted to hospital due to side effects of nausea and dehydration and the need for repeated doses, while those receiving electric shock aversion therapy attended as outpatients for weeks or in some cases up to two years.
    Oestrogen treatment to reduce libido (two participants in the 1950s), psychoanalysis (three private participants and one NHS participant in the 1970s), and religious counselling (two participants in the 1990s) were also reported. Other forms of treatment were electroconvulsive therapy, discussion of the evils of homosexuality, desensitisation of an assumed phobia of the opposite sex, hypnosis, psychodrama, and abreaction. Dating skills were sometimes taught, and occasionally men were encouraged to find a prostitute or female friend with whom to try sexual intercourse.

    http://www.portlandphoenix.com/books/top/documents/03843009.asp

    http://www.bmj.com/content/328/7437/427.full


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    It does seem as if a 'don't ask/don't tell' ethos prevailed. I know in Cork the euphemism often used for men was 'he's very good to his mother.' [Danny le Rue was apparently fabulous to his mother]. For women it was 'ah sure, she/they never married...sigh' - I often wondered about that sigh. It quite often had a wistful quality to it.

    CDfm - I do think you may be on to something when you referred to a liberal attitude prevailing in Cork. I know that when I came out in the early 1980s I never experienced any negative attitudes in Cork - but was frequently subjected to abuse in Dublin. The fact that I did actually come out was, however, unusual for the time. Despite the existence of a 'women's space' in the then newly opened Quay Co-Op - it focused mainly on feminist issues with sexual orientation as a by-line. Most of the women involved were heterosexual and the few who were out tended to be students from outside Cork.

    I know a UCC history graduate started a project collecting 'stories' of being gay in Cork about 3 years ago. He is organising these 'stories' by decade, but one common factor is the relative lack of homophobic outbursts by Cork people. The main attitude seems to have been, and remains, - 'Leave them alone like, they're one of our own!' [i.e. from Cork - which down here trumps everything].

    I also think the amount of innocence regarding sexual matters - the common notion that sex was a marital duty which women endured and certainly didn't enjoy (John B Keane is damning about this issue in the Bodrán Makers) provided protection for lesbians. Many people simply couldn't conceive of 2 women voluntarily doing 'that'. I suspect that being a Catholic country the concept of female virginity and its links with spiritual purity was an added protection. A women could infer she was emulating the Virgin Mary but sadly did not have a vocation so she had no option but to live a sad and lonely life sharing her home with her 'friend' (who, coincidently, was in the same fix) for 'economic' reasons. Women in Protestant countries did not have this handy smoke screen.

    My mother has often spoken of two women she remembers from her childhood in the late 30s/ early 40s who lived together in Pouladouff in Cork- although she can remember a few nods and winks which were quickly shh'd when they came up in conversation, she also remembers them as being very much part of the local community - She is now convinced they were lesbians -I must ask her for more details.

    Little research has been done yet on women who entered religious orders - I know of one who entered a nursing order as soon as she turned 16 in the late 70s. Although discussion of such matters usually descents quickly into childish comments about ' lesbians in nunnerys = child in a candy store' this is to miss the point. The woman I know took the decision because she did not wish to marry and wanted a fulfilling role where she could help people - she kept her vow of celibacy. Ironically, the best means of attaining a degree of independence for women, plus educational opportunities, was via the religious orders.

    CDfm -Sonja Teirnan has done some interesting work which can be accessed on:

    http://nd.academia.edu/SonjaTiernan/ResearchInterests

    Given that Sonja's PhD was on Eva Gore-Booth I am sure there will be many references to her.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    THE OSCHOLARS LIBRARY
    Here is a great essay on Oscar Wilde and his Irishness & Homosexuality.

    The case is of course , politicised , Wilde's mother Jane was "Speranza" wrote poetry for the revolutionary Young Irelanders in 1848 and his prosecutor none other than Edward Carson the Unionist Politician.

    There was also class involved and I once read a comment made to Wilde on the stand that he had only himself to blame- the implication being that if he had stuck to his own class they would not haver testified against him.

    Was Wilde blameless in his own prosecution. No , he wasnt.

    He had pursued a case of Criminal Libel against the Marquess Of Queensbury the only defense open to Queensbury was to prove that the allegations he made against Wilde were true.

    That done. Prosecution was a slam dunk.

    Anyway, the article covers, Shaws, Yeats, Joyce & Behans opinions of him.

    http://www.oscholars.com/TO/Appendix/Library/walshe.htm

    The First Gay Irishman? Ireland and the Wilde Trials.[1]

    Éibhear Walshe

    [This essay first appeared as ‘The First Gay Irishman? Ireland and the Wilde Trials’ in Éire-Ireland - Volume 40:3 & 4, Fómhar/Geimhreadh / Fall/Winter 2005, pp. 38-57; and is here republished by kind permission.]

    To be sure, sexuality is not a fixed entity, either in an individual or in a culture. Nonetheless, a post-modern idea of Wilde (and everything else) as endlessly elusive can obscure the real determinants in cultural change. Twentieth-century uses of Wilde’s name, certainly, have depended on simplifications, mistaken apprehensions and downright falsehoods. However, the point is not Wilde’s true identity but the identity that the trials foisted on him. It was not who he was but who we have made him to be. I want to suggest that there is unfinished business here; that Ireland, as much as England and the United States, might claim the name of Wilde as a gay icon.
    –Alan Sinfield.[2]

    Like Sinfield, my interest is with some ‘unfinished business’ in Irish cultural studies, an examination of how Oscar Wilde’s name and his crime provoked public discourse around homosexuality in modern Irish culture. If perceptions of sexual identity evolve partly through public events, how did Irish media and literary sources configure Wilde’s homosexuality during the 1895 trials and after? As Sinfield suggests, the question is not simply about who Wilde actually was, either sexually or racially, but of what we make him stand for. In this essay I chart the revealing ways in which Wilde’s homosexuality became a contested discourse within twentieth-century Ireland, a discourse that became intertwined with Irish cultural nationalism.

    Foucault has argued that only in the nineteenth century did the homosexual become a type or a personage with a past and a case history. In Ireland, as in other societies towards the end of the nineteenth century, modern ideas of sexual identity began to take shape and draw meaning from visible mainstream cultural events. In analysing how of the idea of the homosexual was formed, Foucault studied the history of the conditions shaping institutional and discursive notions of homosexuality in Europe. I argue that the study of twentieth-century Irish homosexuality formulation must begin with an account of Wilde’s visible presence as sexual other, through the analysis of the strategies of normalization used to police his unnameable sin within Irish media and literary accounts. In any perception of homosexuality in modern Ireland, Oscar Wilde, famous for his writings and notorious for his sexuality, links Irishness and ‘queerness.’

    Much has been written on British media treatments of the Wilde trials, but little or nothing on the Irish sources. We can, however, observe the formulation of the notion of homosexuality in modern Ireland within the island’s media coverage of the Wilde trials and in subsequent Irish accounts of his life and his sexuality. In this essay, I argue that the local media coverage of the trials drew out an ambivalent and often contradictory contestation around Wilde’s sexual sin from within Irish cultural discourse. The Irish newspapers struck a markedly differing note from that of their British counterparts, and subsequent writers from Ireland, notably G. B. Shaw, William Butler Yeats, James Joyce, Brendan Behan and others ‘nationalized’ Wilde, (a word I borrow from Margot Norris) by claiming him as a figure of affirming dissidence.[3] In this national appropriation of Wilde, these later artists could reconfigure his unsettling sexual sin by seeing it as the causal factor within an episode of anti-imperialist defiance. My argument is that Wilde came to be seen by subsequent Irish writers as a disruptive figure of anti-colonial resistance and this reconstruction, in some ways, mitigated his aberrant homosexuality for those writers and indeed for their society. Even the powerfully homophobic culture that twentieth-century Ireland was to become located strategies by which the unspeakable Oscar could be reclaimed as Wilde, the Irish rebel.

    Ambiguities abound in Wilde’s life and work, not least around his own representations of himself as a sexual being. Nevertheless the useful and incontestable fact remains that in May 1895, an Irishman named himself publicly as a lover of other men, although qualifying this declaration of homosexual identity by claiming that his love for other men had never been expressed sexually. At a critical moment in his trial, Wilde defined the love that dare not speak its name by citing a proud genealogy of same-sex lovers. The significance of Wilde’s speech, in this context, is that for the first time we have a public affirmation of homosexual love from an Irishman.

    More than ten years earlier, a court case in Dublin had also dealt with this forbidden topic, the so-called Dublin Castle scandal of 1884. Because public discourses around homosexuality had been so very different in this case, it is illuminating to contrast Irish media coverage of the earlier scandal with that of the Wilde trials. In May 1884 The Irish nationalist politician William O’Brien publicly alleged same-sex activities involving Dublin Castle administrators and officers of his newspaper United Ireland. O’Brien’s allegations came from what H. Montgomery Hyde describes as ‘the widespread belief that homosexual ‘vice’ was rampant in official circles in Ireland.’[4] According to historian Leon O’Broin,

    gly reports had been in circulation for some time about the sexual perversions of some of the headquarter officers in Dublin Castle. The Nationalist members of parliament attacked Spenser and Trevelyan and imputed them with the misdeeds of their employees. Tim Healy, with typical sarcasm, alleged that Spencer’s services to the state had well entitled him to promotion and suggested that he should become the duke of Sodom and Gomorrah.[5]

    This rumour and indirect reporting came to a head when, in a series of events that would be uncannily repeated during the Wilde trials, O’Brien used his newspaper to make allegations, particularly about Gustavus Cornwall, the secretary of the General Post Office. As if anticipating Wilde’s action against Queensberry, Cornwall sued O’Brien for libel, and the trial opened on 2nd July 1884. Extensive evidence was brought against Cornwell and others; not only was O’Brien cleared of libel, but Cornwall and seven other men were now under police surveillance. Subsequently, they were all arrested and tried on 5th August 1884 in Green Street courthouse in Dublin on charges relating to indecency and sodomy. During this second trial, other gay men were called as witnesses against Cornwall, but as they were in danger of losing their own jobs, they were reluctant to give evidence against him. In his memoirs, the profoundly homophobic O’Brien characterizes this reluctance as ‘one of those sudden gusts of infantile fretfulness which are apt to sweep over persons of their peculiar mentality…[when]… the three essential witnesses refused to be examined.’[6] ‘Providentially,’ he further observed, ‘the cowardice of persons thus diseased is commonly as abject as their depravity.’[7]

    By the end of 1884, the trials finally concluded, with a number of the men found guilty and sentenced to hard labour and penal servitude. The central protagonist, Cornwall, was acquitted and, due to retire anyway, he resigned his post in Dublin Castle. According to O’Broin, however, ‘Cornwall lost his post office job for having, as a Dublin wag put it, tampered with Her Majesty’s males.’[8] In relation to the Wilde trials, most noteworthy is that the publicity around the Dublin Castle trials provoked widespread Irish media condemnation of homosexuality. All Irish papers distanced themselves from what they chose to see as a foreign vice, using this condemnation for purpose of nationalist rhetoric. In the United Ireland in 7th June 1884, O’Brien wrote of the defendants’ homosexuality as ‘the system of depravity unsurpassed in the history of human crime’ and compared it with ‘the comparatively venial crimes (as far as human society is concerned) of the Moonlighters and Invincibles.’[9] Other accounts stressed the un-Irishness of those accused: The Evening Telegraph’s attacked Cornwall for ‘contaminating the running stream of Irish moral purity by stirring up the sink of pollution implanted by foreign hands in its very edges,’[10] while the Dundalk Democrat’s noted sodomy as ‘a crime that was unmentionable and happily is unknown and was previously unheard of by ninety-nine out of every hundred of the people in this country.’[11]

    In the light of Irish media accounts of the Dublin Castle scandal, the response to Wilde’s arrest and trial is striking in some Irish newspapers. Irish newspapers, again obliged to confront the dangerous topic of homosexuality, elided the issue by concentrating on Irish nationalist outrage at British legal injustice. Now that an Irishman was at the centre of the scandal and not a collection of hated Dublin Castle administrators, the discourse around homosexuality became much less direct, more circumspect than that appearing in the British press.

    Linked to this circumspection in the Irish media at the time was a tendency within later Irish sources to interpret Wilde’s behaviour in the courtroom of the Old Bailey as heroic and politicised. In other words, Wilde’s defence against the charge of homosexuality and gross indecency was later claimed for the tradition of Irish Republican defiance in the face of British injustice. In particular, when, during the trial, Wilde was asked to define the exact nature of ‘the love that dare not speak its name’, a coded poem about homosexuality by Lord Alfred Douglas, his response would be seen as one of the great Irish anti-imperialist speeches from the dock. Seamus Heaney, for example, asserted a full century after Wilde’s ordeal that ‘during his trials in 1895, Wilde had been magnificent in the dock and conducted himself with as much dramatic style as any Irish patriot ever did’.[12] In truth, Wilde wasn’t exactly being truthful and certainly not being patriotic when he denied the sexual element in the love that dare not speak its name, but his declaration broke the wall of public silence around homosexuality when he dared to bring it to a point of public utterance.[13] His homosexual love did have to speak its name when the law demanded an answer, however partial his answer. The simple fact that he made such a profession of ennobling same sex love is in itself precisely the factor that provoked public disturbance and debate. The vital importance here is the implication of Wilde’s articulation of the homoerotic for Irish public discourse. Martyrs and figures of political rebellion are often constructed retrospectively and this was the case with Wilde in Ireland. Wilde’s downfall would be read by Shaw, Yeats and others in the light of the literary and political career of his mother, Speranza, a view aligning him with the rhetorical traditions of Irish Republicanism and, indirectly, with the many impassioned speeches made by Irish activists in English courtrooms during the nineteenth century. As I will suggest, these later reading of Wilde the Irish rebel served to mitigate the severity of Irish commentators on his sexuality and thus are linked to the Irish media discretion when reporting directly on his trials.

    THE WILDE TRIALS AND IRELAND

    The three trials of Oscar Wilde in 1895 and the consequent newspaper coverage provide us with a moment of crucial engagement with the question of homosexuality in Ireland. Linda Dowling argues that ‘Wilde’s statement in the trial created a new language of moral legitimacy pointing forward to Anglo-American decriminalisation and, ultimately, a fully developed assertion of homosexual rights.’[14] But did it enable the same language of moral legitimacy for homosexual rights in Ireland? Certainly his disgrace radicalized Wilde’s own sense of his sexuality after his release and subsequent exile in Europe. He wrote to Robert Ross in February 1898, making an implicit link between patriotism and uranian love: ‘A patriot put in prison for loving his country loves his country, and a poet in prison for loving boys loves boys. To have altered my life would have been to have admitted that Uranian love is ignoble. I hold it to be noble – nobler than other forms.’ [15] From the trials onwards, Wilde’s name and his fate elicited very particular perceptions and notions of homosexuality. In Britain, as Ed Cohen and Michael Foldy have shown, the Wilde trials had the effect of drawing out homophobia from the British media.[16] Because of the unmentionable nature of his sexual sin, Wilde’s body became the site for displaced unease. For Cohen

    t is hardly surprising that the newspaper reporting of Wilde’s prosecution conjoined the spectacular and the characterological in order to figure ‘Oscar Wilde’ as embodying a new type of sexual offender. As soon as Wilde himself became the subject of legal scrutiny, it was very clear that it was his body that was at stake in the production of public meaning engendered by the case.[17]

    In the Irish media, these same issues of unease and sexual phobia are evident, as Wilde’s body also becomes a site for contested meaning. But in Ireland this unease becomes ambivalent and is, to some degree, contested and undermined by resentment of British imperialism.

    Until 1895, his Irishness empowered Oscar Wilde as a writer of comedies of manners. Declan Kiberd notes that the ‘ease with which Wilde effected the transition from stage Ireland to stage England was his ultimate comment on the shallowness of such categories…To his mortification and intermittent delight, Wilde found that his English mask was not, by any means a perfect fit.’[18] However, from the outset of the first trial, Wilde’s celebrity was transformed into notoriety by Queensberry’s accusation that he was posing as a ‘somdomite.’ Wilde himself had written in The Soul of Man under Socialism of ‘that monstrous and ignorant thing that is called Public opinion.’[19] Now, this monstrous and ignorant thing moved against Wilde to demonize him as a corruptor of youth and a destroyer of innocence. Foldy shows that ‘the Wilde Trials were unusual in that they provided a single forum and a single frame of reference for all of these otherwise disparate concepts: ‘decadence,’ ‘degeneracy,’ ‘and same sex passion.’’[20] Xenophobia as well as homophobia prompted attacks on Wilde’s decadent foreignness, but his ‘French’ decadence rather than his Irish unruliness fuelled media attacks in Britain. Foldy points out that Wilde

    represented a frightening constellation of threats which conflated all these disparate elements and associations: he represented foreign vice, foreign art and indirectly, the legacy of foreign rulers … thus when the newspapers attacked Wilde and condemned his foreign vice, they were also expressing their xenophobic fear of foreigners and foreign influences, their hatred of a useless and parasitic aristocracy, and their intolerance for useless artists and for anyone who would actively try to subvert the status quo.[21]

    Wilde’s own foreignness as an Irishman was evidently little used by the British media as a weapon to attack his sexual otherness. And only at a late stage of the trials, when conviction seemed imminent, was his Irishness directly referred to in court. [22] At the end of the third trial, Sir Edward Clarke, the defence lawyer, urged the jury to acquit Wilde using the following mitigating plea of his racial otherness. (Clarke apparently felt that he had no other extenuating plea to offer.)

    If upon an examination of the evidence you therefore feel it your duty to say that the charges against the prisoner have not been proved, then I am sure that you will be glad that the brilliant promise which has been clouded by these accusations, and the bright reputation which was so early clouded in the torrent of prejudice which a few weeks ago was sweeping through the press, have been saved by your verdict from absolute ruin: and thus it leaves him, a distinguished man of letters and a brilliant Irishman, to live among us a life of honour and repute and to give in the maturity of his genius gifts to our literature of which he has given only the promise of his early youth. [23]

    Noreen Doody comments that Clarke perhaps appealed ‘to the generally accepted nineteenth-century view of the Irish as less responsible than their English ‘betters.’[24] This late reference to the defendant’s racial identity, however, proved futile, and Clarke failed to develop it further. But, as will become apparent in the last section of this study, subsequent Irish accounts of the trials and of convicted man’s decision to face arrest afterwards seized upon Wilde’s national pride and sense of honour as motivating his behaviour. Irish sources came to lionize Wilde for his racial difference, his Anglo-Irish pride, and old-fashioned chivalry.

    Since Wilde’s third trial in May 1895 dealt most directly with his homosexuality, the coverage of that trial in a range of Irish newspapers, both in the north and south. is illuminating. Major Irish newspapers like The Irish Times carried daily accounts, but most of these reports were discreet, business-like, and impersonal. (Exceptions were accounts in The Irish News and Belfast Morning News on Monday 27th May informing readers that ‘Oscar Wilde, who lived on an extraordinary reputation, has thus disappeared and let us hope the last has been heard of him.’) Irish newspapers were reticent in reporting court proceedings and reluctant to name the defendant’s crime. As Cohen and Foldy have demonstrated, the British media also avoided direct mention of same-sex activities by displacing that unnameable sin onto Wilde’s body. The Irish press, however, maintained a more discreet distance from Wilde’s sin and from his body: on Friday 24th May, The Evening Herald even ran its coverage of the trials under the heading ‘Wilde’s Defence: Accused extremely unwell and talked with concern about his anxiety.’ The Cork Examiner carried short daily notices concerning the trial from Wednesday 22nd May until Monday, 27th May 1895. But in its coverage, the paper tended to pay much more attention to the parallel story of the public fistfight between the Marquis of Queensbury and his son, Lord Douglas of Hawick, a fracas that took place in the course of the trial. On Wednesday 22nd May, the paper made its first reference to the trial by discussing the ‘specific charges’ concerning Wilde’s co-accused, Alfred Taylor: but these charges are unnamed, as is Wilde. More is made of fight between Queensbury and his son, presumably a safer topic in the reporting on Friday 24th May and on Saturday 25th May; however, the paper does finally mention Wilde as ‘betraying tokens of the keenest anxiety’ on the Saturday. Only on Monday 27th May, when Wilde had been sentenced did The Cork Examiner refer directly to ‘immoral practices,’ but with a great deal of sympathy for the ‘ill and anxious’ defendant.

    Such circumspection differs from British coverage. The Belfast Newsletter used the words ‘gross indecency’ about Taylor straight off in Wednesday 22nd May and gave details of the rent boy evidence on Thursday 23rd. But when finally, on Monday May 27th, the newspaper devoted a full length article to the case, it confined itself to talking about ‘certain misdemeanours’ and ‘improper motives.’ This reticence appeared when the English newspapers were far harder on Wilde. For example on 6th April, The Daily Telegraph, the newspaper with the largest circulation in London, reported that ‘[w]e have had enough and more than enough of Mr OSCAR WILDE, who has been the means of inflicting upon public patience during the recent episode as much moral damage of the most offensive and repulsive kind as any individual could well cause.’

    Why were the Irish media so discreet in the coverage of the Wilde trials? Several factors may have accounted for such discretion, one being the republican legacy of his mother, Speranza. More crucially, the political climate in Dublin—with the growing pressure in southern Ireland for political autonomy—may well have muted any condemnation of an Irishman at odds with the British legal and political establishment. In the earlier Dublin Castle Scandal of 1884, the investigation reflected not just homophobic unease with same-sex activities, but the antipathy Irish nationalist politicians felt towards colonial administrators. Although Wilde’s nationality failed to protect him during his trials in London, it may have provided him with some mitigating cover within Irish society in a period of rising nationalism.

    In contrast to the reticence of other Irish newspapers, however, The Freeman’s Journal of Monday May 27th 1895 carried an unusually lengthy discussion of Wilde’s conviction; but even at this very early stage, the Irish commentators clearly found himself in a tricky, often contradictory position. The anonymous journalist, ‘Our Own Correspondent,’ devotes a substantial portion of his general report on London affairs to condemning Wilde. His discussion of the case and the sentencing follows the usual pattern of condemnation: direct mention of Wilde’s homosexuality is avoided and instead the defendant’s body becomes the site upon which the trial’s sexual significance can be inscribed. In Cohen’s words, Oscar Wilde’s body is now ‘a descriptive trope that personalises the criminal proceedings.’[25] The Freeman’s Journal correspondent employs terms familiar in the London press— such as ‘horrid,’ ‘festering corruption,’ and ‘abominations’— to justify the sentence:

    As to the horrid character of Wilde’s crime, it is quite superfluous to add anything to what Judge Wills, who held the scales of justice with scrupulous fairness, said in passing sentence. The remarkable thing is to discover now that Oscar Wilde was a centre of festering corruption seems to have been known in the artistic and theatrical circles in which he moved. But it is satisfactory anyway to feel that even the most brazen effrontery in the pursuit of such abominations does not bring immunity from punishment…It is even said that the police could lay their hands on fifty men well known in society who are equally guilty with him and whose connection with this odious scandal has been notorious for years.[26]

    The correspondent’s view of a queer community hidden within artistic and theatrical circles — of a covert secret society with Wilde at the centre — shifts the perception of homosexuality from individual acts of sexual activity towards the notion, albeit hostile, of a community created around sexual preference. The analysis then moves from a general denunciation of the defendant’s culpability and incorporates two accounts of his public appearances in 1895, one just before the trials— on stage at the first night of An Ideal Husband —and the other at the end of the trials in the dock of the Old Bailey. Here, descriptions of Wilde’s body, his dress, and his demeanour are encoded, through the interpolation of terms such as ‘condescending’ and insolence,’ within the rhetoric of sexual decadence and arrogance; such writing provides the evidence that the defendant was indeed ‘a centre of festering corruption’ and focuses public attention on his body. As Cohen notes, ‘the press corps anticipated the legal attachment of Wilde’s body by confining/ defining him within their interpretative gaze.’[27]

    Some months ago I saw Oscar Wilde at the first night of ‘An Ideal Husband ‘. He was then in the zenith of his fame… Wilde himself was in a stage box, being flattered and lionized by a party of most distinguished persons – men and women- whose praise he condescendingly accepted. He was dressed in a last note of fashion, faultlessly groomed and assuming airs of semi-royal graciousness to an admiring audience…He strutted in from the wings with an air of contemptuous indifference, one hand in his trouser pocket, and opera hat in his other… The object of this ovation responded with a shrug of the shoulders suggesting a feeling of deprecatory boredom. When silence had been restored, he drawled out a few words of studied insolence and retired. [28]

    Then Wilde’s body is reconstructed as in ‘an outing,’ a public exposure of his hidden sexuality. With puritanical glee the writer contrasts Wilde’s bodily frailty and obvious physical strain with his earlier physical arrogance.

    I saw Oscar Wilde on Friday last in the dock of the Old Bailey and a more shocking contrast could not possibly be conceived. The aspect of sleek, well fed luxuriousness had vanished, the cheeks were lined and flabby, and wore a most unearthly colour. His eyes were bloodshot and expressive of the last stage of acute terror. – The eyes of a man who might at any time get a fatal seizure from overstrain. His hair was all in disorder and he crouched into a corner of the dock with his face turned towards the jury and the witness box, his head resting on his hand so that it was almost hid from the public…The general impression he conveyed was of a man filled with a vague hopeless terror, not of one filled with shame at the dreadful ignominy of his position. [29]

    In this shifting representation of Wilde’s physicality that renders him bestial and inhuman, the body becomes the site for displaced horror at an unnamed sexual sin. No longer the arrogant playwright strutting onto the stage, the terrorized defendant now attempts to hide his body from the public gaze, even as he lacks the appropriate shame and penitence before his sexual aberrance. Until this passage, The Freeman’s Journal account follows patterns of representation and condemnation appearing in English versions of the trials. However, as he discusses the judicial proceedings, ‘our own [Irish] correspondent’ raises issues absent from British coverage. Reminding his readers that the jury in the second trial was dismissed because of its failure to reach a unanimous verdict of guilty for Wilde, he recalls that the abrupt ending of that trial led to press speculation that the jury might themselves have been ‘corrupt’ or biased in Wilde’s favour, thus sexually suspect. ‘Our own correspondent’ then reveals his national identity and his nationalist fervor:

    We all know what trial by jury is – in England. It is the palladium of English justice and all the rest of it. It is a peculiarly English institution which the ‘Celtic Fringe’ is quite incapable of appreciating or utilising at its proper value…Mere Irish juries had been accused freely in agrarian or political cases in refusing to place absolute trust in the evidence of policemen or informers but here was a London jury without the suspicion of an Irishman about it accused of being actuated by what among the ‘Celtic Fringe’ would be regarded as an immeasurably baser motive in refusing to find the prisoners guilty. …It is impossible to escape the conclusion that an Old Bailey jury must be very amenable to influences of this kind and that the high-flown eulogies we have been accustomed to from English orators in the House of Commons on the immaculate character of the English juries as compared with Irish are mere pharisaical humbug. [30]

    Cohen argues that Wilde’s identification as a homosexual was produced in reaction to its opposite, the heterosexual: for an identity to take shape, it needed its binary opposite. But in the terms of Irish cultural discourse, Wilde as sexual ‘other’ was made safe within another discourse of oppositional types, Celtic versus British. The sexual ‘type’ of homosexuality invoking Wilde’s guilt and ‘festering corruption,’ is collapsed into an anti-imperialist discourse; thus as the writer moves into a lengthy diatribe against British justice, we lose sight of Wilde’s contaminated body. This contemporary Irish account in The Freeman’s Journal is probably the first to subsume sexuality into the national question. Wilde’s downfall, now building on the appeal of national martyrdom, was to be re-imagined by later Irish writers in the light of their own aesthetic and political purposes

    NATIONALISING WILDE: JOYCE, YEATS, SHAW AND BEHAN.

    This process of ‘nationalizing’ Wilde, claiming him as a figure of transgressive empowerment, continued in the following decades with James Joyce’s March 1909 publication of an article, ‘Oscar Wilde: The Poet of Salome,’ in a Trieste newspaper. Since James Joyce was only thirteen when the trials occurred and eighteen when Wilde died, his view of the earlier writer was constructed at a distance, both temporally and spatially. In the course of his brief essay, written to mark a Trieste performance of Richard Strauss’s opera Salome, Joyce addresses Wilde’s homosexuality directly, with characteristic forthrightness. He opens with a familiar discourse of pseudo-genetic rationalization for Wilde’s sexuality, suggesting an epileptic personality as a causal factor—without supplying any corroborating biographical evidence. Furthermore he cites as ‘a determining factor for [Wilde’s] evolving sexuality,’ or unhappy mania,’ again without evidence, the belief that Speranza wished for a daughter while pregnant with Oscar and then dressed her younger son in skirts (‘dragging’ him to his ruin)’ : ‘There are circumstances regarding the pregnancy of Lady Wilde and the infancy of her son which, in the eyes of some, explain in part the unhappy mania (if it may be called that) that later dragged him to his ruin.’[31]

    However, Joyce more pointedly argues that Wilde destabilized the widespread homosocial structures underpinning Victorian British culture, identifying the homophobic panic that his outing unleashed in the male social structures of his time: ’Anyone who follows closely the life and language of men, whether in soldiers’ barracks or in the great commercial houses, will hesitate to believe that all those who threw stones at Wilde were themselves spotless.’[32] For Joyce, the consequent rage against Wilde in Britain represented the fury of a society engaged in self recognition: ‘What Dorian Gray’s sin was no one says and no one knows? Anyone who has recognised it has committed it.’[33] Because Wilde challenges the hegemony of the British Empire, Joyce begets him, as it were, as a precursor for his own aesthetic of exile, disgrace, and defiance. ‘Here we touch the pulse of Wilde’s art— sin. He deceived himself into believing that he was the bearer of good news of neo-paganism to an enslaved people.’[34] Joyce, therefore, saw Wilde as an exemplar; by refashioning him as a subversive and a rebel, the later self-exiled writer afforded Wilde a counter-tradition of Irish dissent. Joseph Valente argues that the two authors, in Joyce’s view, developed related means of expressing resistance to the constraints of their lives.

    Mediated by his compatriot Wilde, Oxford Hellenism afforded Joyce a script to be performed or mimicked in his youth and a narrative code to be implemented and manipulated in his fictive representations of that youth. It lent the lived and the written story a shared ideological basis, a discourse of individual self-development that could address and resist in concerted fashion, the main intellectual, sexual and aesthetic constraints of Irish catholic life and the political inequalities of British colonial life. [35]

    Two later biographical accounts, both much coloured by the subject’s relationship with the writers in question, further develop the view of Wilde as the Irish subversive. In his 1914 autobiography, W.B. Yeats writes warmly of his relationship with the older writer and acknowledges Wilde’s aesthetic influence and helpful patronage upon his own arrival in London in the late 1880’s. In particular, Yeats describes his visit to Wilde’s house in May 1895, during the third trial, when the young poet was anxious to assist the defendant with letters of support from other Irish writers. Yeats reacted to his fellow Irishman’s disgrace with empathy and support. Although hoping that Wilde was innocent of the charges of sexual immorality, he ‘considered him, essentially, a man of action…and I was certain that, guilty or not guilty, he would prove himself a man.’[36] Because many of his closest friends and associates in London were either homosexual or bisexual, public exposure of Wilde’s same-sex activities failed to alienate Yeats. The poet was concerned, rather, with constructing his friend as the archetype of the Irish tragic artist, the lone figure standing against the commonplace and suffering as a result at the hands of over-sexualized heterosexuals:

    I have never doubted for an instant that he made the right decision, and that he owes to that decision half of his renown…Tragedy awoke another self, the rage and contempt that filled the crowds in the street, and all men and women who had an over-abundant normal sexual instinct. [37]

    Yeats thus problematized the very heterosexuality that constructed Wilde as sexual other. The poet is also the only source for the belief that Lady Wilde urged her son to stay and face prison rather than leave for France. This otherwise unattested story has become part of the Wilde legend: the rebel mother urging her son to live up to the code of Irish republican honour. Yeats writes, ‘I heard later, from whom I forget now, that Lady Wilde had said,’ If you stay, even if you go to prison, you will always be my son, it will make no difference to my affection but if you go, I will never speak to you again… .’[38] Repeatedly, in these Irish accounts of Wilde, Speranza is figured as pivotal in the determinant of Wilde’s sexuality and also as a driving force in his journey towards public disgrace and consequent aesthetic martyrdom, her republicanism compensating for her overwhelming and damaging maternal influence.

    Another Anglo-Irish Protestant writer, George Bernard Shaw, left a very different version of the same events. In 1916 Shaw provided a letter of commentary for his friend Frank Harris’ biography of Wilde, a letter subsequently published as part of Harris’ study. Shaw grew up in Dublin as a contemporary of Wilde’s, and perhaps the two men were rather too close for comfort as Irish writers in London. In any case, Shaw was characteristically sceptical about his co-patriot’s aesthetics and sexuality, although he viewed Wilde’s comedies of manners as part of the tradition of Anglo-Irish dramatic writing in London.[39] As Joseph Bristow points out, Shaw was the first critic to note the connection between Wilde’s Irishness and the subversive subtext of his comedies.[40] When Wilde became the subject of widespread public opprobrium in London, Shaw, like Yeats, supported him and tried to dissuade him from the libel case against Queensbury. But in writing about Wilde’s homosexuality, Shaw displayed ambivalence: a conjunction of supportive broadmindedness, distance, and self-doubt. ‘My impulse to rally to him in this misfortune and my disgust at ‘the Man Wilde’ scurrilities of the newspapers was irresistible.’[41]

    I don’t quite know why, for my toleration of his perversity and recognition of the fact that it does not imply any general depravity or coarseness of character is an acquirement through observation and reflection. I have all the normal repugnance to homosexuality- if it is really normal which nowadays one is sometimes provoked into doubting.[42]

    Unlike Yeats, Shaw distanced himself from Wilde’s homosexuality, although like others, he blamed Speranza for her son’s ‘perversity.’

    Expounding the startling theory (with no medical evidence) that Wilde’s mother, suffered from gigantism and that her son had inherited her physical abnormality and was thus sexually monstrous, Shaw turned to biological explanations for Wilde’s aberrant sexuality. However such unsubstantiated theorizing— a biological determination viewing the mother as the perverting influence on normative heterosexuality—suggests Shaw’s need to explain away the sexuality that led Wilde to prison. Eventually, however, Shaw falls back on a discourse of Anglo-Irish feudal honour: ‘ I still believe that his fierce Irish pride had something to do with his refusal to run away from the trial.’[43] One of Shaw’s most stubborn, if whimsically expressed, beliefs was in the moral strength and tenacity of the Irish Protestant as compared to his English or American counterparts. With his vindication of his own class, the Irish Protestant Shaw concludes his account of Wilde.

    Given these biographical re-constructions of Wilde the rebel and tenaciously honourable Irishman, later writers, particularly those representing the homoerotic in fiction, would deploy a discourse of colonial resistance. Wilde’s influence on Brendan Behan, for example, can be directly ascertained. Although Behan’s working-class republican background background seems at a great remove from the Wildes of Merrion Square, in De Profundis and ‘The Ballad of Reading Gaol’ Behan found a heady mixture: of the homoerotic, of defiance of British justice, of letters written from English jails, and of powerful courtroom speeches. While Behan was confined in an English Borstal as a member of the IRA, he first became aware of the emblematic and decadent fellow Irishman. In the Borstal library, he met a young man of about nineteen, wearing a rose coloured silk tie, smoking through a cigarette holder, and reading Frank Harris’ Oscar Wilde. Although the fey young man’s revelation of why Wilde had been jailed was intended to shock, Behan responded sharply that ‘every tinker has his own way of dancing’.[44] His biographer, Michael O’Sullivan, also reports that ‘when among friends, he often used to boast drunkenly of his Herod complex, or preference for young boys’.[45] Behan’s 1954 prison play, The Quare Fellow, pays such direct homage to the influence of Wilde, that O’Sullivan remarks on the inevitability that ‘reviewers in Ireland would make a comparison with Wilde’s The Ballad of Reading Gaol,’ noting even that in The Evening Press, ‘Gabriel Fallon found it more profoundly moving and deeply religious than Wilde’s great prison letter’.[46] Wilde became a talisman for Behan, especially in Paris in the late 1940’s, when he was writing homoerotic prose and poetry. A 1949 poem, originally written in Irish, celebrates Wilde on his deathbed in Paris.

    The young prince of sin
    A withered churl
    The gold jewel of lust
    Left far behind him,
    No Pernod to brace him.
    Only holy water,
    The young king of Beauty
    A ravished Narcissus
    As the star of the pure Virgin
    Glows on the water.

    Envoi.

    Delightful the path of sin
    But a holy death’s a habit.
    Good man yourself there, Oscar,
    Every way you had it. [47]


    Such nationalizing continues in contemporary Irish writing and the process of claiming Wilde directly as a gay icon, a figure of empowering queer presence in contemporary Irish writing appears in Colm Tóibín's 2002 Love in a Dark Time: Gay Lives from Wilde to Almodovar. In this collection, a contemporary Irish novelist connects his recognition of himself as a gay man with the reclamation of Wilde: ‘The personal became political because an Irishman in London pushed his luck.[48] Moreover, Tóibín's 2004 novel about Henry James, The Master, the protagonist James—like Wilde an outsider in London, but unlike him, overwhelming careful to conceal his own homosexuality— muses with fascinated distaste on Wilde’s disgrace and imprisonment. Yet again, the discourse of Wilde the Irish rebel is sounded.

    From the moment Henry had first seen him, even when he had met him in Washington in the house of Clover Adams, suggested deep levels and layers of hiddenness… He remembered something vague being told to him about Wilde’s parents, his mother’s madness or her revolutionary spirit, or both, and his father’s philandering or perhaps indeed his revolutionary spirit. Ireland, he supposed, was too small for someone like Wilde, yet he had always carried a threat of Ireland with him.[49]

    To conclude, I would contend that over the past hundred years since the Wilde Trials, Wilde’s homosexuality was subsumed into broader debates and discourses around Irish cultural nationalism. This meant that the unmentionable Wilde became Oscar the Irish rebel and thus, even in such a homophobic culture as 20th Ireland, strategies were located for homosexuality to be rendered comprehensible and even marginally acceptable.

    · Dr Eibhear Walshe is a senior lecturer in the Department of Modern English at University College Cork. His research interests include modern Irish fiction, Munster writing, Irish drama and Irish Lesbian and Gay writing. His biography Kate O’Brien A Writing Life was published by Irish Academic Press in 2006 and he is working on a study of Oscar Wilde and Ireland. His other publications include the edited collections, Ordinary People Dancing: Essays on Kate O’Brien (Cork University Press 1993), Sex, Nation and Dissent, (Cork University Press: 1997) Elizabeth Bowen Remembered (Four Courts Press: 1999) and The Plays of Teresa Deevy (Mellen Press: 2003.) He was the Burns Visiting Professor in Boston College in summer 2006.

    Another little bit of info.

    Wilde's father, Sir William Wilde , lost a costly libel case over the seduction of the daughter of a colleague.

    Wilde's own case case is similar in that he initiated it.

    Some links to Wilde's parents are on my post on his fathers grave in Mount Jerome

    http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showpost.php?p=66808136&postcount=78.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Issac Bickerstaffe - Irish Playwrite 1733-1812 - Wilde wasn't the first Irish playwright with legal problems over homosexuality to die in France in poverty.
    1733-?1812 [var. Bickerstaff]; b. [?26 Sept.] prob. Dublin; son of deputy groom porter; became page to Lord Chesterfield and thereby an ensign in Northumberland Fusiliers at aetat. 12, 1745; served as 2nd Lieut., 1746-55 and 1758-63; produced successful plays between 1756 and 1771 based on Marivaux and other French playwrights; incl. Love in a Village (1762), with music by Thomas Arne, performed 37 times within six months and went into eight edns. in 1763 alone, and frequently restaged thereafter................. fled to France to avoid prosecution for homosexuality, 1771; appealed unsuccessfully to David Garrick for help, 1805; said by Stephen Jones to be still living in France (Biographia Dramatica, 1812) presum. d. in poverty

    http://www.pgil-eirdata.org/html/pgil_datasets/authors/b/Bickerstaffe,I/life.htm


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Lesbian relationships were never illegal or prosecuted.

    When the laws were being updated in the 19th century no-one would explain lesbian sex to Queen Victoria.

    The decriminalisation of homosexuality was all about male same sex relationships.

    Other than the high profile cases - I cant see prosecutions in Ireland. (though I cant imagine a landlord who does not worry about famine worrying about tenants getting prosecuted for homosexuality) .

    Reading up on witch prosecution in Ireland once I saw that in Ireland witch prosecutions were an English protestant import.

    So what actually happened- I cant find any prosecutions ?


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  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Here is another Bishop who had legal problems

    This is an interesting article which also goes thru other details of how the courts operate



    The Bishop of Clogher


    clogher.jpg [FONT=arial,helvetica] In 1822 Percy Jocelyn, Lord Bishop of Clogher, was caught with his trousers down in the company of a mere common soldier. The story really began in 1811, the year after the Vere Street raid. In that year James Byrne, coachman to the Bishop’s brother John, accused the Bishop of committing an unnatural crime. Clogher denied the facts, and prosecuted Byrne for bringing false charges against him. Byrne was tried and convicted, and sentenced to two years in prison, preceded by three floggings. He nearly died as he was severely whipped at cart’s tail through the streets of Dublin on the first two occasions. The third flogging was rescinded when he agreed to withdraw his accusation. The truth of his charge against Clogher did not emerge until eleven years later. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] On the evening of Friday 19 July 1822 John Moverley, a young soldier in the Foot Guards, of slightly effeminate appearance, went to the White Lion public house, St Alban’s Place, Charles Street, Haymarket. He looked into the pub two or three times before entering, then went in and ordered a pint of porter and took it into the back parlour. Shortly afterwards a Bishop arrived, about 58 years old, six feet tall, stout, with powdered hair, sallow complexion and pointed nose, dressed in his clerical garb. He exhibited the same odd pattern of behaviour before ordering a drink and going into the back parlour. The landlord and his son-in-law immediately suspected that an unnatural assignation was taking place on the premises. Together with some other men from the pub, they went around to the back yard, and observed the proceedings through a window, across which the curtain had been only half-drawn. They were shocked by what they saw. They went back into the public rooms and fetched half a dozen witnesses to go round to the yard to see for themselves, while they went to call a watchman. In short order the entire assembly burst into the back parlour, where both offenders had their trousers down round their ankles. One story claimed that the soldier was just on the point of consummating the act of sodomy upon the exposed posterior of the Bishop. But most accounts claimed that the Bishop was buggering the soldier. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] The Bishop and the soldier were immediately dragged through the streets nearly naked. As they passed the gates of Carlton Palace they were severely beaten and had their remaining clothes torn to pieces by the crowd which had gathered. Bleeding from his nose, the Bishop pleaded for mercy, but both men were locked into cells in St James’s watch house in Vine Street. Next morning they were taken to Marlborough Street station, where both men were much distressed and shed tears at their examination. Crowds of people assembled outside, while six or seven witnesses gave their evidence. Clogher refused to reveal his identity, and as a constable moved forward to search him, he took a paper from his pocket and tore it up and threw the fragments into the fireplace. He wrote a note which he asked the constable to deliver to John Waring of 21 Montague Street, Portman Square, with whom he had been staying: “John; – Come to me directly, don’t say who I am, but I am undone. Come instantly, and inquire for a gentleman below stairs, 12 o’clock – I am totally undone. P. C." (for Percy, and Clogher). The officer refused to deliver this, and it was subsequently produced as evidence in court. Clogher prayed on his knees in his cell all night long, crying for mercy. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] At the examination before the magistrate the following day, both men remained silent and were professionally represented. There had been no fire in the grate, and the torn letter was produced: it was addressed to the Bishop from his nephew the Earl of Roden. Clogher demanded the letter as his property; it was handed to him and he tore it into shreds so no fragments could be produced in evidence at any subsequent trial. But finally Clogher had to divulge his name and address in order to get bail. Mr Waring soon appeared, to give one of the two £500 sureties granted for the Bishop (the other surety was given by his grocer, who lived in Montague Street, Montague Square), and Clogher was granted bail of £1,000 and allowed to leave in safety by a back door. Moverley was committed for trial, where he was visited by Lord Sefton, who said “he is a fine soldier-like man and has not the air which these wretches usually have" [F. H. Amphlett Micklewright, ‘The Bishop of Clogher’s Case’, Notes and Queries, vol. 214 (1969), p. 423.]. (Sefton had previously attended the hanging of White and Hepburn in 1811.) Within a few days, two respectable tradesman appeared to stand bail for the soldier and he decamped. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] Tiny notices of the scandal appeared in the Sunday newspapers and during the following week, though the Bishop’s name was suppressed. But by the end of the following week, everyone knew that the principal actor in the affair was the Lord Bishop of Clogher, grandson of the Lord Chancellor of Ireland, brother to the 2nd Earl of Roden, uncle to the 3rd Earl of Roden, and the scandal became the talk of the town. Clogher was noted as a member of the Society for the Suppression of Vice, a revival of the earlier Societies for Reformation of Manners. His hypocrisy did not pass unnoticed by the authors of illustrated broadsides, pamphlets, and even epigrams: [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] The Devil to prove the Church was a farce
    Went out to fish for a Bugger.
    He baited his hook with a Frenchman’s arse
    And pulled up the Bishop of Clogher. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica](The Moverley family were of French origin in so far as they came over with the Norman Conquest. An alternative version of this epigram substituted ‘Soldier’s’ for ‘Frenchman’s’.) [/FONT] [FONT=arial,helvetica] Clergymen who were seen on the streets of London were jeered at by the populace (according to the Archbishop of Canterbury), and most of them fled indoors. The landlord of the White Lion charged a small fee for showing the room where the horrid occurrence had taken place. The Marquis of Hertford contributed £20 towards a public collection for the wrongly accused James Byrne, whose reputation was cleared though he was never formally pardoned. [ The British Library once had the single sheet of the Subscription for James Byrne with a list of subscribers, and a 36-page Sketch of the Life, and Unparalleled Sufferings of James Byrne, late coachman to the Honourable John Jocelyn, brother to . . . the Lord Bishop of Clogher. Together with some observations on the conduct of the Jocelyn family (1822). These were in a collection of documents about Byrne which was destroyed by bombing during World War II, and I have not located copies elsewhere.] [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica]The Clogher scandal probably encouraged many gay men to leave the country, and it led to the suicide of a Cabinet Minister. Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, who was both the Foreign Secretary and Leader of the House of Commons at the time, was visibly overwrought throughout June and July. He forgot appointments and his handwriting became hardly legible. He had an audience with King George IV on 9 August to reveal the fact that he was being blackmailed – had had been caught for picking up a soldier, whom he claimed he had thought was a woman – and to confess that “I am accused of the same crime as the Bishop of Clogher." The King advised him to consult a physician. He went to his country seat in Kent, and on 12 August cut his throat with a pen-knife. Castllereagh’s wife later confessed to the Duke of Wellington that her husband was a man who preferred men. [Montgomery Hyde first revealed that Castlereagh’s suicide had been preceded by blackmail in his book about The Strange Death of Lord Castlereagh (1959), where he also discusses Castlereagh's wife’s statement to the Duke of Wellington; there is a review of more recent research on the Castlereagh affair in Louis Crompton's Byron and Greek Love (1985).] His visible distress caused by being blackmailed during the last few months of his life was fixed upon as an excuse to say he was not in his right mind when he killed himself. His physician declared him insane, a ploy that some people find preferable to accusing someone of homosexuality. It is clear that there was a high-level attempt to cover up both the Clogher and the Castlereagh affairs. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] Needless to say, neither Clogher nor Moverley showed up when the Clerkenwell sessions commenced on 9 September, and it was not long before the Dublin Morning Post reported that Clogher and Moverley had absconded and forfeited their bails. George Dawson, private secretary to the Home Secretary, Robert Peel, believed that “No event in the last century is more to be lamented both on private and public grounds – it will sap the very foundation of society, it will raise up the lower orders against the higher, and in the present temper of the public mind against the Church it will do more to injure the Establishment than all the united efforts of its enemies could have effected in a century." Dawson wrote to the Archbishop of Armargh suggesting that he arrange an “excusable connivance at his escape", and the Archbishop wrote to Lord Roden suggesting that “someone" should tender bail for Moverley for “removing him out of the way". [Matthew Parris, with Nick Angel, “The Crime Not To Be Named: Percy Jocelyn, The Arse Bishop", in Matthew Parris, The Great Unfrocked: Two Thousand Years of Church Scandal (London: Robson Books, 1998), pp. 144, 150. The Church of Ireland refused to let historians examine the correspondence between the Home Office and Archbishop Beresford of Armagh concerning the affair until 1998, when Archbishop Eames, Primate of All Ireland, finally authorized its release to Nick Angel and Matthew Parris.] Lord Sefton provided bail and Moverley disappeared. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] John Moverley’s great-great-great-great nephew Stuart Moverley has researched his family tree, and discovered that John Moverley was born in 1796 in the parish of Bramham, West Riding of Yorkshire, one of eight children of William and Mary Moverley. (This would mean he was 26 years old at the time of the scandal, not 22 as some newspapers suggested.) John Moverley joined the 1st Regiment of Foot Guards (Grenadier Guards) at York on 1 May 1819, when he was described as a “labourer of Bramham", 5 feet 9 inches in height, with dark hair and a light complexion. (One of the newspaper accounts during the scandal described him as of “effeminate appearance".) Records show that he deserted from the 2nd battalion on 7 August 1822, i.e. after being bailed from prison by Lord Sefton. No court martial is recorded in the regimental archive, so presumably he was never caught. Presumably he did not return to his village, nor maintain relations with his family. His father died in 1826, and in his will listed four other sons as beneficiaries, but does not mention John.[Personal communications from Stuart Moverley during 1997 and 1998. The family tree can be seen at Stuart Moverley’s homepage, http://www.btinternet.com/~sfmov.] [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] Clogher, for his part, sailed in a small boat from Ramsgate to Ostend on the very evening he was released from custody. The newspapers railed against the offering of bail to a man who earned at least £20,000 a year and could easily spare the trifling sum of £1,000. The public disaffection would have been even higher had only the Bishop been allowed to escape and the soldier been punished. The Bishop did not disguise his name while in Paris, nor did he change his mode of dress; he was often seen strolling the Boulevards and dining at Very’s the Restaurateurs in the Palais Royale. He was cordially received by French society, and lived in the cottage vacated by the Dublin poet Thomas Moore in 1822. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] A true bill was found against both men in their absence in September. In October the Metropolitan Court of Armagh solemnly stripped the Bishop of his ecclesiastical dignities, but he had already managed to auction off the entire contents of the episcopal palace, leaving it “as a naked ruin", and the revenues to the see had not been stopped in time to prevent him from selling his tithes for a reasonable profit. [The complete record of the proceedings appears as an Appendix to the Annual Register (1822), Chronicle, pp. 425-432. The case is reviewed in the entries for 20 July 1822, p. 126, and 7 August 1822, p. 138. The selling of the tithes is confirmed by Benbow, Crimes of the Clergy, p. 140.] The fate of his “man-mistress", the only servant he had kept with him at the episcopal palace, is not known. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] Mr Parkins, a former sheriff who saw an opportunity to make some money out of the affair, wrote to Byrne and offered his services as treasurer for handling his subscription and arranging collections for him. He paid for Byrne’s passage to London, and offered to buy him a coach and horses. Placards were printed, public dinners were held in aid of the subscription – at one of which William Cobbett the radical reformer and journalist presided – and money was collected in five dozen tin boxes. The celebrated coachman and his wife and daughter lived in the two rooms above Parkins’ stables, and he had unwittingly become a low-paid keeper of Parkins’ livery. Parkins gave Byrne small amounts of money from time to time, but never enough to provide the capital Byrne needed to fulfil his dream of opening a public house. Parkins pocketed a hefty share of the proceeds for his own expenses, and when the day of reckoning came he refused to give Byrne the surplus of the subscription, and turned him out of the house. The unlucky Byrne finally had to prosecute him in 1824, and was awarded damages of £194.4s.4½d. [“Court of King’s Bench, Westminster. Byrne v. Parkins. 16 February 1824", reprinted in the Annual Register (1824), Chronicle, pp. 55-62.] [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] On 19 December 1824 a notice was read aloud to the congregation of Marylebone Church and then posted by the Bailiff, calling upon the Bishop to surrender to the Sheriff of Middlesex to face charges “or you will be outlawed". Despite being a fugitive, after living for some time in Paris, Clogher eventually seems to have returned to Britain, for reasons unknown, and went to Scotland, where he worked for a period as a butler. In an extraordinary obituary published in The Scotsman and reprinted in the Annual Register for December 1843, he is said to have died incognito in Edinburgh in 1843. He apparently lived for a while in Glasgow, then moved to a house in Salisbury Place, Edinburgh, around 1839, where, under the assumed name of Thomas Wilson, “His mode of living was extremely private, scarcely any visitors being known to enter his dwelling; but, it was remarked, that the post occasionally brought him letters sealed with coronets." “He was very anxious to conceal his true name, having it carefully obliterated from his books and articles of furniture. He gave instructions that his burial should be . . . conducted in the most private and plain manner, and at six in the morning." His body was carried to the New Cemetery in a hearse followed by five mourners in a one-horse coach.[Obituary in the Annual Register, December 1843, p. 330.] The register of Burials in the parish of St Cuthbert’s Edinburgh, states: “1843, Sept. 13, Wilson Thomas, Assumed name Hon. Percy Percyln I]sic[/I Bishop of Clogher, age 83, 4 Salisbury Place".[Mickelwright, “The Bishop of Clogher’s Case", p. 428.] (The age given is incorrect; he was born in 1764 and would be about 79.) No Will was found. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] However, his descendant the Hon. James Jocelyn informed me in 1995 that when the Jocelyn family vault at Kilcoo Parish Church in Bryansford, Co. Down was opened for structural repairs to the church, he went inside the vault and discovered that it contained one more coffin than the number of grave markers would indicate, and that the extra coffin was unmarked. He concluded that this was the final resting place of the Bishop of Clogher. James Jocelyn generously transcribed and sent to me a copy of Clogher’s Last Will and Testament, which he had turned up when sorting out the family papers. The Will is dated 19 May 1836, and was signed in the presence of John McCullough, Newtown, John Catherwood, “Muslin Manufacturer, 62 Queen Street, Glasgow", and George Heaseley, Groomport, County Down. Most of his substantial estate of about £5,000 was left to surviving members of his family, but each of his servants was left a full year’s wages, and additional bequests ranging from £100 to £300 were left to several of his favourite servants, and their sons. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica]Clogher left the sum of £2,000 in trust to his one surviving sister Lady Emily Stratton and her son John Stratton, £500 to his niece Mistress Harriet, and another large sum to his nephew Rev. George Stratton. The smaller bequests include £100 “to my former servant John Warren to set him up in some kind of Trade or business", £100 to his wife Mary Warren for her sole and separate use, £100 to their daughter Elizabeth Warren, £50 to their eldest son Leonard John Warren “to set him up in business either as a cabinet maker or in any other line of business he may think most profitable for himself", £100 to any other children of John and Mary Warren living at the time of Clogher’s decease; £100 “to Alexander Murphy my faithful and affectionate Steward"; £100 each to Mistress Anne Collis or Colles and Miss Mary Anne Sempill, presumably servants; £200 to “my valuable and much respected friend" John James Bigger of Dundalk, County Louth, who was one of the trustees of his estate and executors of his will, and £50 to the other trustee/executor William Brownlow Forde of Annahilt, County Down . He hoped that heirlooms would be kept in the family: he left his watch and chain to the Hon. John Jocelyn, son of his brother the Earl of Roden who was now deceased; his sister Lady Charlotte’s writing box to the surviving Countess of Roden; his books to Rev. George Stratton; his silver plate and furniture, his “large lock" and his “Carriage and jaunting car" to relations, and his linen to be divided between his sister and his faithful housekeeper. A small additional Codicil, regarding disposal of linen, is dated 23 May 1836; a second Codicil, dated 28 August 1837, deals with a bond for his sister, and notes that Mrs Colles has “left me and gone to live in Belfast"; the third and last Codicil, dated 1 August 1840, adds another niece Mrs Anne Newson to the bequests, and cancels the bequest that was “left to Leonard Warren Eldest son of John Warren who is now dead by me" (the meaning of this phrase is unclear), and leaves small bequests to other named servants. This last Codicil is witnessed by Goerge Heaseley, Jane Murphy and Eliza Jane Murphy (probably the wife and daughter of his steward Alexander Murphy). [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] Clogher bequeathed “to my good friend and relation The Reverend James Hill Poe of Nenagh in the County of Tipperary the sum of Three hundred pounds late Irish currency as token of Remembrance for all the Kindness and attention which my beloved sisters and myself have uniformly experienced from him for many years past during a period of extreme calamity and misfortune." The most interesting feature of the Will is the following clause: “I desire and request that my remains may be committed to the Grave in the most private manner at a very early hour in the morning and that no Publicity whatsoever may attend my funeral, also that no name be inscribed on my Coffin and my age. And I desire no publication of my death to be inserted in any public paper." [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica]Three Codicils were added, dated 23 May 1836, 28 August 1837, and 1 August 1840. The Probate, granted in the Court of Prerogative in Armagh, Ireland, is dated 14 October 1843. It is not clear exactly where Clogher was living at the time of his Will or its Codicils. Clogher refers to himself in the 1836 Will as ‘late of Bally William in the County of Down’. Two of the witnesses to the Will in 1836 lived in Scotland (i.e. Glasgow, and “Newtown" which I assume is New Town, Edinburgh), but all the witnesses to the last Codicil in 1840 lived in Ireland. In addition, all of Clogher’s legatees and trustees lived in Ireland, and the 1836 Will has a clause leaving £100 to be “divided among the poor householders of Dundalk . . . as a mark of my remembrance", which would imply that Clogher lived in Dundalk, County Louth, which is where his primary trustee and executor lived. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica]William Benbow in Crimes of the Clergy, or The Pillars of Priest-Craft Shaken (1823, p. 44) condemned Clogher as “a deserving ******" for the flames of hell, which may be an early instance of one of the odder terms of abuse applied to homosexuals. Benbow observed that the Bishop’s homosexuality was not a great surprise, for he never engaged in sports while at Trinity College, Dublin. John Brown in his book Historical Gallery of Criminal Portraitures (1823), in a chapter devoted to “the Sufferings of James Byrne, and the Matchless Depravity of Jocelin Percy I]sic[/I, Late Lord Bishop of Clogher", observed that “It has long been understood that the park was a place of nocturnal rendezvous for male prostitutes, who were commonly private soldiers, and that such unnatural wretches as Percy Jocelyn were in the frequent habit of repairing thither to select their mates!" (p. 612). [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] The author of one of the pamphlets about the Bishop of Clogher prefaced his attack with some recent history about London’s gay subculture. He remarked that “the Vere-street gang can never be forgotten . . . who can ever forget the sound pelting that the wretches received", and he lamented that the pillory had been done away with at the time of his writing, 1822 [The Bishop!!, pp. 6-7]. “The crime has considerably increased since its abolition, and it has of late been ascertained that there are various houses in the Metropolis used by such wretches for their nefarious purposes, especially in the neighbourhood of Mary-le-bone." So the molly houses had been moving towards the more fashionable West End, but one gets the impression that they are small back rooms used for private purposes rather than the more sociable taverns of the previous century. Four men were arrested in such a “den" very shortly before the Bishop’s arrest, and another house “was said to be visited and supported some time ago by a nobleman". Apparently the avenues leading to theatres were thronged by gay men, and the galleries were full of well-dressed sodomites looking for simple-minded youths to accost, boys from the country who would have neither the wit nor the rank to press charges. Our pamphleteer observes the class distinctions relative to the prosecution of this offence: men of wealth or distinction are less likely to be charged with the felony; they are charged with the misdemeanour and granted bail; after being released, they either bribe the prosecutors not to press charges, or they forfeit their bail by absconding, and that is the end of it. [/FONT]
    [FONT=arial,helvetica] According to our pamphleteer, reporters are allowed into court when “poverty-struck wretches" are charged, but they are excluded from the court if persons of consequence go to trial [The Bishop!!, pp. 7-9]. However, I don’t think this particular claim is correct; William Jackson, commenting on a case involving a molly publican in 1806, says that “in such cases the judge generally forbids notes to be made" [The New and Complete Newgate Calendar; or Malefactor’s Universal Register (1818), vol. VII, p. 371], and no official notes were taken during the trial of the soldiers White and Hepburn in 1811 (or else they were totally suppressed). All sodomy trials were far more briefly recorded during the early nineteenth century than they had been throughout the eighteenth century up to the 1780s, to the extent that the trial records cease to be useful sources of information about the gay subculture. The men who jumped bail prior to trial were predominantly tradesmen and middle-class shopkeepers. If upper-class men pulled rank or offered bribes to escape public notice, they usually did so before any formal charges were made, for their names are missing from the Sessions Rolls as well as the trial records. [/FONT]

    Here is the link

    http://rictornorton.co.uk/clogher1.htm

    Here is the site link

    http://rictornorton.co.uk/

    I am only really interested in Irish stuff


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    CDfm wrote: »
    Lesbian relationships were never illegal or prosecuted.

    When the laws were being updated in the 19th century no-one would explain lesbian sex to Queen Victoria.

    The decriminalisation of homosexuality was all about male same sex relationships.

    Other than the high profile cases - I cant see prosecutions in Ireland. (though I cant imagine a landlord who does not worry about famine worrying about tenants getting prosecuted for homosexuality) .

    Reading up on witch prosecution in Ireland once I saw that in Ireland witch prosecutions were an English protestant import.

    So what actually happened- I cant find any prosecutions ?


    It's generally acknowledged now that the story re: Victoria and lesbianism is an urban myth. A far more plausible an explanation is that in Victorian times women (with the exception of Victoria herself) simply had so few legal rights and such a slim chance of ever living an independent life that there was no point in anti-Lesbian legislation. Remember, this was a Laissez Faire political system which believed in 'small' government - as women were firmly under the legal control of their nearest male relative the onus would have been on him to police her behaviour. For a woman to gain any measure of independence she would have had to be the widow a man with no close male relatives AND have no sons.

    Re: Witch Trials - there was one:

    Alice Kyteler: Accused Irish Witch
    The Woman At the Center of Ireland’s First Witch Trial (1324-1325)


    Nov 2, 2008 Alanna Muniz


    Witch Shadow - Carlos Paes
    As the first person to be tried for witchcraft in Ireland, Lady Alice Kyteler faced sorcery and heresy charges a century before the start of the European Witch-Hunt.

    Lady Alice Kyteler was one of the richest residents in Kilkenny, Ireland. Descending from a prosperous, merchant family, she had the advantage of accumulating even greater wealth through a succession of four marriages. Her first marriage to wealthy banker and money-lender, William Utlagh, produced a son by the same name. Lady Alice’s son took up his deceased father’s trade, and over time, many local nobles became in debt to both mother and son.

    Witchcraft Accusations
    The strongest antagonism directed at Lady Alice and her son came from the stepchildren of her later marriages. Lady Alice’s first three husbands died, and her fourth husband became ill with a mysterious wasting disease. With family jealousies over money and inheritance playing a motivating role, Lady Alice’s stepchildren and sickly husband began accusing her of poisoning her current husband and bewitching her former husbands to death with black magic potions and powders.

    Bishop of Ossory
    In early 1324, Richard de Ledrede, the Bishop of Ossory, held a formal inquiry into the accusations against Lady Alice. He indicted her, her son William, and their associates on charges of both maleficium (harmful magic) and demon worship. The bishop was convinced Lady Alice was the leader of a band of heretical sorcerers.

    Charges
    Lady Alice and her associates were indicted on seven counts. They were accused of concocting powders and ointments to cause death, illness, love, and hatred. They were said to perform incantations while boiling dead men’s nails, animal entrails, and the brains and swaddling of unbaptized babies in a decapitated robber’s skull.

    They were charged with denying Christ and Christianity, and seeking counsel from and sacrificing to demons during nocturnal meetings. Lady Alice was charged with obtaining her wealth from an incubus demon and of using sorcery to bewitch her husband and stepchildren.

    The Bishop (and her stepchildren seeking inheritance money) tried to discredit Lady Alice from her financial success; the charges the bishop listed clearly stated her wealth came from a demon and diabolical means. Moreover, the witnesses who testified against Lady Alice were many of the nobles who were in debt to her and her son.

    Kilkenny Trial Outcome
    Lady Alice’s wealth and family status became her lifesaving supports. Ledrede failed to have her arrested; she used her own authority to have him arrested for seventeen days. Her son William was arrested for heresy, while her maid Petronilla was burned alive after confessing under torture to heresy and orgies. Lady Alice fled and lived out the rest of her life in England, and ironically, Ledrede later was accused of heresy.


    Lady Alice’s trial was a landmark case in the history of European witchcraft. Her case marked the first time witches were associated with an organized and heretical devil-worshiping sect. In the 14th Century, the educated elite began to merge their learned ideas about demonological heresy with popular beliefs about witchcraft. This merging of beliefs brought together magic and heresy and the idea of organized and conspiring sects of witches worshipping the devil.

    These specific ideological developments that occurred within Kyteler’s trial were some of the necessary prerequisites for the commencement and promulgation of the European Witch trials.



    Read more at Suite101: Alice Kyteler: Accused Irish Witch: The Woman At the Center of Ireland’s First Witch Trial (1324-1325) http://www.suite101.com/content/lady-alice-kyteler-a76332#ixzz1Gdba2CmK


    What this article fails to comment on it that this was Ireland's only witch trial as it caused such a scandal that the Anglo-Irish parliament debated the issue at length and came to the conclusion that there was no such thing as witchcraft - and effectively made witch trials illegal in Ireland.

    In Gaelic Ireland there was no concept of criminal law - all law was 'civil' and based on compensation so witch trials didn't exist.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    The Infamous Dolly Wilde - niece of Oscar and lover of many of the leading lights of the thriving Lesbian scene in Paris in the 20s/30s.

    ATLANTIS RISING

    "I am a darting trout; shifting, glancing & flashing my iridescent tail in a hundred pleasant pools!..."
    –DOLLY WILDE, letter to Natalie Barney


    "She looked, said everyone who knew them both, remarkably like her uncle Oscar. She had the same artfully posed, soft, white hands, the same elongated face, and the same air of indolent melancholy which Aristotle insisted was always the natural accompaniment of wit.

    She spoke remarkably like her uncle too, or, rather, like a brilliantly female version of Oscar – for there was nothing parodically male about Dolly Wilde. And although she would occasionally dress up as her uncle in borrowed, too-tight pants, a great flowing tie and a famously ratty fur coat (perhaps it was Oscar's favorite coat after all, the one Dolly's father Willie was supposed to have pawned when Oscar was imprisoned), she looked most like Oscar Wilde when she was dressed up as herself: a beautiful, dreamy-eyed, paradoxical woman – wonderfully stylish and intermittently unkempt, spiritually illuminated and clearly mondaine. She stares out at us from her few significant photographs with a distinctly contemporary gaze; conscious of the camera, casual about her audience.

    For sixty years she was a delicious rumor: Oscar Wilde's enchanting niece Dorothy, born in 1895, a scant three months after her uncle's notorious trials and shameful imprisonment. In titled, artistic, and carefully closeted circles in Paris and London and Hollywood, stories of the outrageous things Dorothy Ierne Wilde said and did were passed around like canapés at a book launch. Photographed by Cecil Beaton and the Baron de Meyer, adored by the Sitwells, the Cunards, and French Academicians such as Edmond Jaloux, attracting people of taste and talent wherever she went, Dolly Wilde was almost – as her friend Janet Flanner wrote – "like a character out of a book...like someone one had become familiar with by reading, rather than by knowing" – too literary, in short, to be believed.

    Although she could only have been produced by the follies and grandeurs of the 1920s and the 1930s, Dolly Wilde seems sensationally contemporary. Her tastes for cutting edge conversation and "emergency seductions" (as she called the sexual adventures which she applied like unguent to her emotional wounds), for fast cars and foreign films, for experimental literature and alcoholic actresses, are still right-up-to-the minute, and it is too easy to forget that she has been dead – and deader still for being unnoticed – these sixty years.

    Stories of Dolly's life usually start out with stories about other people's lives - her uncle Oscar's fabled conversation, the duchesse de Clermont-Tonnerre's bal masqué, Natalie Clifford Barney's famous salon - because Dolly Wilde always did. She adored listening to people, a trait which everyone said came from her fatal "paresse," her indolence. And while it flattered her friends to have such a brilliant speaker listening so brilliantly to them – for Dolly was surely the world's most active audience – this tendency of hers to delay things was the first drug that imprisoned her early on. Like many fascinating people, Dolly was easily fascinated. Charming herself, she could be charmed into putting off anything, even the narratives she loved so much.

    "Go on," Dolly would say to her friend Victor Cunard, the London Times correspondent to Venice, as he hesitated between the irresistible desire to pour out his secret life to her and the fully justified fear that his secret would be instantly betrayed. "Go on," she would say disarmingly in her "bird-charmer's" voice to the New Yorker magazine writer Janet Flanner who was telling her a particularly violent fairy tale, "but tell it slowly, tell every word so that it will last longer." Dolly Wilde's life was full of such interesting, unfinished, delayed relationships through which she was sometimes tempted to try and fulfill herself.

    Although Dolly often behaved like a luxury item let loose in a lavish era – treating even the maisons de santé where she was regularly disintoxicated like private suites in European spas – her family had undergone a famously public deconstruction. Her mother was left so impoverished that she could not afford to keep her at home; whatever her father possessed in the way of character had dissolved itself in alcohol by the time she was born; her uncle's dirty linen had been washed in every scandal sheet in Europe. Unlike her family, however, Dolly herself kept many secrets, telling – such was the refinement of her indiscretions – only the ones in which she was not involved.

    For someone who loved stories as much as Dolly did - loved telling them, loved hearing them, loved their facts, their fictions, and all their complications - she was strangely silent on the subject of her own childhood. All her life, she avoided talking about her early years, and she resolutely refused to supply herself with a "history." Like most self-created people, she was infinitely more comfortable without the inconvenient explanations supplied by an actual, painful past.

    There was only one anecdote from her childhood that Dolly Wilde ever told, and she only told it once. But with unerring instinct she told it to the best raconteuse in Paris, Bettina Bergery. And Bergery - wife of the French diplomat Gaston Bergery and originally one of the three beautiful Jones girls for whom the phrase "keeping up with the Joneses" had actually been invented – remembered the appalling little vignette for the rest of her life and wrote it down.

    What Dolly told Bettina Bergery was this: when Dolly was very young, she used to like to take lumps of sugar, dip them in her pretty mother Lily's perfume, and eat them."








  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    A contemporary of Dolly was

    Eileen Grey (August 9, 1878 – October 31, 1976)

    Modernist, designer and architect. Grey was one of the trend setters of her day and her work is now enjoying a revival. There is a permanent exhibition dedicated to her at National Museum of Ireland, Collins Barracks.

    Among the exhibits is a photograph of Damia.
    Gray was bisexual. She mixed in the lesbian circles of the time, being associated with Romaine Brooks, Gabrielle Bloch, Loie Fuller, the singer Damia and Natalie Barney. Gray's intermittent relationship with Damia (or Marie-Louise Damien) ended in 1938, after which they never saw each other again, although both lived into their nineties in the same city. Gray also had for some time an intermittent relationship with Jean Badovici, the Romanian architect and writer. He had written about her design work in 1924 and encouraged her interest in architecture. Their romantic involvement ended in 1932.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Bannasidhe wrote: »

    Re: Witch Trials - there was one:

    Alice Kyteler: Accused Irish Witch
    The Woman At the Center of Ireland’s First Witch Trial (1324-1325)


    Kilkenny Trial Outcome
    Lady Alice’s wealth and family status became her lifesaving supports. Ledrede failed to have her arrested; she used her own authority to have him arrested for seventeen days. Her son William was arrested for heresy, while her maid Petronilla was burned alive after confessing under torture to heresy and orgies. Lady Alice fled and lived out the rest of her life in England, and ironically, Ledrede later was accused of heresy.

    These specific ideological developments that occurred within Kyteler’s trial were some of the necessary prerequisites for the commencement and promulgation of the European Witch trials.


    In Gaelic Ireland there was no concept of criminal law - all law was 'civil' and based on compensation so witch trials didn't exist.

    I looked up some Irish Witchcraft around a year ago

    http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?t=2055739655&page=3

    You also had Florence Newton in Youghal - but Alice seemed like an old fashioned bi-sexual money grabbing poison dispensing serial husband killer. :eek:

    You have a point on the independence bit and financial jealousy could have been a reason for her to be denounced. Naked dancing allegations could have been a euphenism . I wonder.

    The two most famous Irish homosexuals of the 20th century were Micheal McLiammoir & Hilton Edwards
    The Boys: A Biography of Micheal MacLiammoir and Hilton Edwards

    Contemporary Review, Jan, 1995 by Richard Whittington-Egan



    My father did not know Lloyd George, but he did know - or thought he did - Micheal MacLiammoir, back in the old days in Dublin. What he did not know was that there wasn't an Irish bone - except for the wish-bone - in MacLiammoir's body; or for that matter anywhere in the body of his ancestry.
    I, as my father's son, knew, and was known to, Micheal, was hand-fed cherries by him at Chez Solange, as, Oscar Wilde left behind in a dressingroom crumple of fine nineteenth-century velvet and linen, his living shade - ill-fitting toupee'd, orange-faced with heavy-handed pancake refurbishment - held court and ate post-performance supper at his favourite London restaurant.


    And never by blink or flicker did that consummate actor, Grand Old Man of the Hibernian Theatre, betray the fact that the greatest role of his life was playing Himself. For the astonishing truth - rarely pure and never simple, as Oscar assayed it - revealed thunderbolt in Mr. Fitz-Simon's sensitively written, outstanding biography, is that Micheal was, like Grey Owl before him, a, literally, self-made man. He was born Alfred Willmore, lived in Purves Road, Kensal Green, and learned the Gaelic at nightschool at Ludgate Circus, long before he had even so much as pointed a toe on the emerald sward. Liam is the Irish form of William. So, Wilimore became, in dog-Erse, Liam moir (for more), with a Mac in front for good measure, and a Micheal for a touch of archangelic luck.
    Further passages in this book of revelations disclose the dubious provenance of Micheal's life-long life-partner, Hilton Robert Hugh ('Bobby') Edwards. His easy assumption of public school blazer and brave tales of 'varsity days at Cambridge matched the imaginings of the transmogrified Alfred. But it is not meet to strike judgemental pose, for, whatever the harmless little vanities of their pretences and pretensions, 'the bhoys' were indeed 'true green' in their dedication to their adopted Mammy country, and their joint contribution to Irish theatrical culture, the Celtic limelight, was as solid and impressive as the Giant's Causeway. The Gate became a floodgate of great classical drama.
    As the years wore on, Alf from Willesden, the charm school graduate professional Irishman, and Bobby from East Finchley, blossomed now into a grandee of the theatre, trotted in tandem, the stages of the world their artificial pearl oyster. The partners, carrying always, Micheal his make-up box and Hilton his little case of remedies for a vade-mecum-full of complaints to which flesh is heir, stepped, ageing, into the 'seventies. They grew cantankerous, occasioning mutual perturbation, accusatory spats - 'Micheal is so insensitive. We went to this viewing, and in the darkness I took my teeth out ... Micheal stubbed out his cigarettes on them!'
    Domestic tensions were unrelieved by the ameliorations of old age. When, following the conferring of an honorary LL.D. of Dublin University upon Micheal, a telephone caller asked: 'Is that Dr. MacLiammoir?' a peeved Hilton replied: 'No, this is Nurse Edwards!'
    During the last fifteen years of his life Micheal had a number of operations on his eyes. At last, virtually blind, he underwent brain surgery, emerging from Mount Carmel Hospital, without wig and make-up, a 'distinguished, white-haired, elderly gentleman'.
    In this last guise, Micheal MacLiammoir died, in 1978, vir varius et multiplex, of whom Tyrone Guthrie, known for his fierce non-partiality to Gaelic Ireland and its appurtenances, had said: 'He's a very nice, good person under all the disguises'.
    Now let his epitaph be written: His life was a brilliant circumlocution. Hilton lingered on alone and lonely in Regency refinement at Harcourt Terrace, their shared Dublin home, for four more desolate years - 'tired of living, and feared of dying' (the quotation is from Jerome Kern's Showboat), crushed beneath a burden of needless guilt by contrite memories of pointless rows and petty spites which had pock-marked their days. The welcome dark visitor arrived one November Thursday in 1982.
    On November 22nd, the bogus bhoys, fake and fraud, weighed down with Erse honours galore, were reunited in the soft earth, bedded, 'Until the day breaks', in the long shadow of the Hill of Howth.
    RICHARD WHITTINGTON-EGAN


    b53b20ad5829fd04_landing

    These two were openly gay.

    Oh, and McLiammoir claimed to have had a relationship with the Blueshirt Leader General Eoin O'Duffy


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Another Irish actor.
    CDfm wrote: »
    His early career was that of an Irish Times cub reporter and he trained as an actor in the Abbey & the Gate.

    I share a birthday with him and he is Willfred Brambell who played Paul McCartneys Grandfather in A Hard Days Night

    lennon460.jpg

    He was also Albert Steptoe

    WILFRID_BRAMBELL_STEPTOE_SON_Photograph.jpg







    A very dapper man he had a difficult relationship with his Steptoe Co Star Harry Corbett who really did not like being famous for that show.


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  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Fans of the original Knight Rider will know this guy but will not be aware that he was from Carrigaline in Cork.
    CDfm wrote: »

    Mulhare had a cult following and also starred in the Ghost & Mrs Muir.

    I included him in the Green & the Greasepaint thread as an actor and Corkman.

    So these guys went on the be very sucessful - I do wonder if there is a Heritage story out there from other careers.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Here is something that is a must read for people looking at the issue taken from
    Modern British and Irish criticism and theory: a critical guide

    By Julian Wolfreys


    There is a chapter on criticism of LGBT studies - again 10 or 20 pages but it gives you a chance to evaluate what you read.

    http://books.google.ie/books?id=G1eR4tAS-SUC&pg=PA151&lpg=PA151&dq=irish+gay+society+history&source=bl&ots=FZ3YlYeCfN&sig=N08hURhRXvknBqb4BLl_EAVEVAs&hl=en&ei=v2KBTdPqAoGZhQfMn9nLBA&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=8&ved=0CEEQ6AEwBzgK#v=onepage&q&f=false

    What got me looking this up was something Marchdub commented on.

    Now people of my grandfathers generation & my grandfather were no more interested in a persons sexual orientation than the man in the moon. Let alone seeing people prosecuted.

    After Irish Independence you had the Civil War, Anglo Irish Trade War, The Emergency (WWII) the TB epidemic, the Polio Epedemic and that brought us to the 1960's.

    I am not saying there was not prejudice but it was not a liberal or open society for anyone really.Judging it by todays standards would be difficult as other issues were of more importance.

    Now it could be that I grew up in a more tolerant house -I do not know - but I doubt it somehow.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 9,850 ✭✭✭cgcsb


    Bannasidhe wrote: »
    It does seem as if a 'don't ask/don't tell' ethos prevailed. I know in Cork the euphemism often used for men was 'he's very good to his mother.' [Danny le Rue was apparently fabulous to his mother]. For women it was 'ah sure, she/they never married...sigh' - I often wondered about that sigh. It quite often had a wistful quality to it.

    CDfm - I do think you may be on to something when you referred to a liberal attitude prevailing in Cork. I know that when I came out in the early 1980s I never experienced any negative attitudes in Cork - but was frequently subjected to abuse in Dublin. The fact that I did actually come out was, however, unusual for the time. Despite the existence of a 'women's space' in the then newly opened Quay Co-Op - it focused mainly on feminist issues with sexual orientation as a by-line. Most of the women involved were heterosexual and the few who were out tended to be students from outside Cork.

    I know a UCC history graduate started a project collecting 'stories' of being gay in Cork about 3 years ago. He is organising these 'stories' by decade, but one common factor is the relative lack of homophobic outbursts by Cork people. The main attitude seems to have been, and remains, - 'Leave them alone like, they're one of our own!' [i.e. from Cork - which down here trumps everything].

    I also think the amount of innocence regarding sexual matters - the common notion that sex was a marital duty which women endured and certainly didn't enjoy (John B Keane is damning about this issue in the Bodrán Makers) provided protection for lesbians. Many people simply couldn't conceive of 2 women voluntarily doing 'that'. I suspect that being a Catholic country the concept of female virginity and its links with spiritual purity was an added protection. A women could infer she was emulating the Virgin Mary but sadly did not have a vocation so she had no option but to live a sad and lonely life sharing her home with her 'friend' (who, coincidently, was in the same fix) for 'economic' reasons. Women in Protestant countries did not have this handy smoke screen.

    My mother has often spoken of two women she remembers from her childhood in the late 30s/ early 40s who lived together in Pouladouff in Cork- although she can remember a few nods and winks which were quickly shh'd when they came up in conversation, she also remembers them as being very much part of the local community - She is now convinced they were lesbians -I must ask her for more details.

    Little research has been done yet on women who entered religious orders - I know of one who entered a nursing order as soon as she turned 16 in the late 70s. Although discussion of such matters usually descents quickly into childish comments about ' lesbians in nunnerys = child in a candy store' this is to miss the point. The woman I know took the decision because she did not wish to marry and wanted a fulfilling role where she could help people - she kept her vow of celibacy. Ironically, the best means of attaining a degree of independence for women, plus educational opportunities, was via the religious orders.

    CDfm -Sonja Teirnan has done some interesting work which can be accessed on:

    http://nd.academia.edu/SonjaTiernan/ResearchInterests

    Given that Sonja's PhD was on Eva Gore-Booth I am sure there will be many references to her.

    Re: Cork being liberal towards the gays. It's actually the only place I've experienced homophobia on a personal level. I got a filthy look from some old man and I was within ear-shot of a: "be Jaysus boi, there's a fierce amount of quaarreees on this bus". Mind you, this was in 2010.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    cgcsb wrote: »
    Re: Cork being liberal towards the gays. It's actually the only place I've experienced homophobia on a personal level. I got a filthy look from some old man and I was within ear-shot of a: "be Jaysus boi, there's a fierce amount of quaarreees on this bus". Mind you, this was in 2010.

    LOL :D

    There's always one.

    I always imagined homophobia as a Dublin thing and that was thru media reports - was there an Irish Culture of Homophobia.

    Are there records of incidents ?


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    CDfm wrote: »
    LOL :D

    There's always one.

    I always imagined homophobia as a Dublin thing and that was thru media reports - was there an Irish Culture of Homophobia.

    Are there records of incidents ?

    I know of several serious incidents in Limerick over the last 20 years. A friend of mine was jumped by a gang of about 6 teenagers a few years ago and they tried to beat the living crap out of her. What they didn't realise was that the entire pack from Munster's women's team were following on behind - lets just say those lads got more than they bargained for!

    Many urban centres now have dedicated Garda Liaison officers for the LGBT community - they would have figures, but to be honest most people don't bother reporting it as the response is usually being told you have to take out a civil action against your abuser.


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  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    So gay bashing exists but is it part of "Irish Culture". Where are attitudes recorded and how do we assess it ? This is a History & Heritage Forum .

    There were gay murders & there was a social scene . What were they.

    You wont have prosecutions but are there records in the press or books to it.

    Was homosexuality discussed in the Dail.

    Sir Roger Casement's body was repatriated and he was held in high esteem by the Irish people and Eamonn Devalera put that in a letter to the British Government.

    So people like Eamonn DeValera & Willie Cosgrave who both were Taoiseach at various times and fought in 1916 would have probably known him or known of his sexuality.

    What were their attitudes and do we know ?

    If we do a cut off point in the mid 80's what was Ireland like?

    Just to set the scene here , in the 1970's 80's RTE had an openly gay TV & Radio presenter Vincent Hanley who died are an Aids related illness and an RTE Set Designer Charles Self was murdered
    [FONT=Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif] [FONT=Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif][SIZE=-1]page: 1 2 3 4 [/SIZE][/FONT] [/FONT] [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif] [/FONT][FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif] [/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Glbtq people were long a largely invisible segment of the population and absent from the public discourse. A rare exception came when the government banned a novel, The Land of Spices (1941), by lesbian writer Kate O'Brien (1897-1974). At issue in the case was the depiction of gay male rather than lesbian desire. O'Brien did write of lesbianism in other works such as her 1958 novel As Music and Splendour.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]In many countries the 1960s were a time of considerable social and political activism, but for gay men and lesbians in Ireland little changed. Emigration, often to England or the United States, was the choice of many glbtq people seeking to escape the homophobia<a href="/glossary.php?word=homophobia&part=" target="_blank">homophobia</a> of Irish society.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]
    <img src="http://b.scorecardresearch.com/p?c1=2&c2=6035232&c3=&c4=&c5=&c6=&c15=&cj=1" /> <a href="http://www.quantcast.com/p-85pvd3d23u7MU" target="_blank"><img src="http://pixel.quantserve.com/pixel/p-85pvd3d23u7MU.gif" style="display: none;" border="0" height="1" width="1" alt="Quantcast"/></a>
    [/FONT][FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Post-Stonewall Organizing[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]A watershed event for the Irish gay rights movement occurred not in the Republic but rather in New York City. The riots at the Stonewall Inn in June 1969 proved the catalyst that led to the formation of gay rights organizations in Ireland. According to activist Kieran Rose, the "gay liberationist values [of American organizations] were to provide the ideological bases of the first generation of Irish gay rights activists."[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Among the earliest of the Irish gay rights groups to achieve a certain visibility and prominence was the Irish Gay Rights Movement (IGRM), founded in Dublin in 1975. In addition to providing social activities for gay men, IGRM had a telephone help-line, a women's group, and a law reform committee. Branches were established in other cities around the Republic including Cork.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]The law reform group had the goal of expunging the repressive 1861 and 1885 statutes from the books. To this end David Norris, an activist and James Joyce scholar, mounted a challenge to the constitutionality of these laws. Begun in 1977, this action initiated an odyssey through the courts of Ireland and Europe.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Faced with financial difficulties and divisions over mission and direction, IRGM disbanded in 1983. Meanwhile other gay and lesbian associations had organized, including the Cork Gay Collective and the Gay Defence Committee, which evolved into the Dublin Lesbian and Gay Men's Collectives (DLGMC).[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Murders of Charles Self and Declan Flynn[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]The Gay Defence Committee formed in response to the actions of the gardaí (police) after the murder of Charles Self, a gay man.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]Self was stabbed to death in his Dublin home on January 20, 1982, perhaps by a man whom he had met in a gay cruising area that night. The gardaí, who had a description and sketch of the suspect, interrogated, photographed, and fingerprinted nearly 1,500 gay men, almost none of whom resembled the man sought. The interrogations often centered on the private lives of the men questioned rather than the solution of the murder.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]The Gay Defence Committee spearheaded the effort to end the harassment. They organized a picket of the main gardaí station on Pearse Street (ironically, named for the writer of homoerotic verse). Support from other civil rights groups--including the Irish Council for Civil Liberties--and media coverage of the gardaí's practices eventually brought a halt to the wholesale interrogations.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]The gardaí never arrested anyone for the murder of Charles Self.[/FONT]
    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]A few months after Self was killed, another man, Declan Flynn, was beaten to death by a homophobic gang of youths in Fairview Park, a gay cruising spot. This time the assailants were brought to trial and found guilty, but the judge suspended the sentence and released the convicts, whereupon they held a "victory march" in Fairview Park. The DLGMC countered with a second march calling for an end to violence inspired by homophobia and violence against women. The march, which had the strong support of feminist groups, drew a large crowd but unfortunately did not lead to any improvement.[/FONT]


    [FONT=Trebuchet MS,Trebuchet,Times,Times New Roman,serif]http://www.glbtq.com/social-sciences/ireland,2.html
    [/FONT]

    Also, did we have prominent gays in media & entertainment, sports and politics.

    Irelands drag queen from the 1970's was an Englishman Alan Amsby " Mr Pussy "

    amanda-miss-pussy.jpg

    2008-11-alan-amsby-%28mr-pussy%29--paul-ogrady-%28lilly-savage%29.jpg


    There was even a Mr Pussy's Resteraunt run by Bono's older brother Norman
    Big brother
    THE nuances are too fleeting for a photograph to capture, but as soon as he opens his mouth and looks sideways out of his blue eyes it's there in spades.

    "You're very like him, " I can't help saying. "You think so? If I dyed my hair black, " Norman Hewson says, grasping tufts of white hair with a broad grin, "I could have a third stab at life perhaps. Except I can't sing. But then he couldn't either when he started."

    We are sitting in the window of Hewson's Nude restaurant in Dublin. Like an elephant in the smoothie fridge, the subject of Being Bono's Brother has to be faced. Norman Hewson has pointed out (extremely pleasantly) in the run-up to the interview that while he is indeed Bono's brother it is not the only thing he is in life.

    He is a 52-year-old successful restaurateur with an idea that one day may go global, and a kid brother who's more famous than God.

    Hewson is proud of the cafe, with its clever lime green, brushed steel and bare concrete look. When he looks down over the refectory tables towards the busy till he can remember the smoke-filled room of banquettes, the mezzanine floor where the Thursday-night transvestites used to sit, and before that the steak restaurant for which his customers queued down the street.

    The building on Suffolk Street has been his home as a businessman for nearly two decades. First as Dillons Steakhouse in 1986, then on through the lunacy and mayhem that was Mr Pussy's Cafe Delux, finishing with Nude. It is not difficult to see number 21 as a reflection of the city's changing palate. Here it has shifted from coronary-on-a-plate steaks through the best fun (but least lucrative time) of his career with Mr Pussy's to now. Chick pea salads, wheatgrass shots and ambitious plans to take on Michael O'Leary and Ronald McDonald.

    Is it hard not to be wistful for a time when the only shots consumed on the premises had strictly no health-enhancing properties? Not really. The Mr Pussy days . . . "two years of total insanity" . . . nearly killed him.

    Why the heavy toll? "Because I always had somewhere to go after the nightclubs closed.

    I was coming home at seven, eight o'clock in the morning, hammered out of my head. The kids would be getting up going to school and I'd say, 'this has got to stop.' Mr Pussy's was ahead of its time and it was too small and it never made any money. But it was great fun."

    One famous night went down as life's most memorable dinner for a handful of customers.

    As they ate, the door opened and a man walked up through the restaurant to a table at the top with a tiger on a lead. He sat down at the table as if to order and the tiger lay at his feet.

    Forks had frozen midway to mouths as the animal's powerful flanks passed within inches of diners' legs. Then the Chipperfields Circus handler took his animal onto the stage and customers realised it was another Mr Pussy's event.

    His favourite Mr Pussy story centres on the night of the trannies and the dentists. Thursday nights was Name that Tune night MC-ed by Mr Pussy, Alan Amsby. The clientele ranged from the regular group of about eight transsexuals and a group of dentists on a night out.

    One from each group was pulled up as a contestant along with a third punter.

    "It was always cheesy Eurovision hits. I'd be up here running the tunes. The tranny never answered any of the questions, even under prompting from Mr Pussy. At the end of it all one of the guys won and Mr Pussy said to me 'I'm going to go find out why he didn't participate. He knew all the answers. He was here every Thursday. It's the same **** every Thursday.'" Amsby got his answer when the silent tranny told him the dentist was his next-doorneighbour. Underneath the heavy panstick and wig he had been struck dumb with the fear that if he uttered a syllable his neighbour might recognise his voice.

    Dumbstruck trannies were a long way from Craig Gardner, the old Dublin accountancy firm where Hewson started his career, training to be an accountant.

    Somewhere in this dim, distant past his younger brother Paul was plugging away at the band stuff. Being seven years older, Hewson was part-time band driver.

    "In fact, I drove them to the Late Late Show when they were first on it. I think it was myself and Adam Clayton's mother. There were two of us anyway.".
    2005-08-21 12:00:00#
    http://www.tribune.ie/archive/article/2005/aug/21/big-brother/



  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    Anyone interested in looking up historical Dail Debates can do so here

    http://search.gov.ie/sites/debates.oireachtas.ie/?q=homosexuality&x=30&y=11

    Reading Dail Debates is often very mundane and questions are often about reading something into the record but use the search facility.

    But sometimes you hit some real nuggets

    For example , the Charles Self murder was mentioned in debates on DNA testing and the Data Protection Acts in 1988 & 1989 following his murder in 1982.

    http://debates.oireachtas.ie/dail/1990/03/01/00007.asp

    http://debates.oireachtas.ie/seanad/1988/07/06/00005.asp


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 216 ✭✭valen


    Bannasidhe wrote: »
    All of the evidence shows that Gaelic Ireland was secular in nature- divorce was common place, it was sexually permissive, had no concept of illegitimacy and allowed women a far greater level of freedom than other European societies

    You've a strange idea of "far greater freedom"; women had no legal standing, other than to give witness about sexual or paternity. They could own no land, other than that acquired through inheritance - but even then, they couldn't bequeath it to their children; it was considered family land, on loan.

    Women were owned by their parents as children, their husbands in middle life, and their sons in old age. A woman wasn't expected to leave the house; there was no such thing as rape if a woman was in a tavern or in a forest alone.
    A very strong case can be made that Gaelic Ireland was not concerned with policing people's sexual activity but rather sought to ensure that any children who were the result were protected and cared for - so there are extensive provisions which outline the rights of children who were conceived as a result of sex with people with mental health problems, disabilities or other forms of coercion or 'incapacitation' at the time of conception such as rape or intoxication.

    Sounds about right. Most of the laws that did exist were there to enrich the nobility and keep the subsistance-farming peasants in their place. Sexuality just didn't matter enough. Early Irish Satire has lots more detail on the mores of early Ireland. It's as you'd expect.

    John


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    valen wrote: »
    You've a strange idea of "far greater freedom"; women had no legal standing, other than to give witness about sexual or paternity. They could own no land, other than that acquired through inheritance - but even then, they couldn't bequeath it to their children; it was considered family land, on loan.

    Women were owned by their parents as children, their husbands in middle life, and their sons in old age. A woman wasn't expected to leave the house; there was no such thing as rape if a woman was in a tavern or in a forest alone.



    John

    Valen - I don't want to go into too much detail here as it would be off topic but you are mistaken.

    The communal nature of Gaelic landownership meant no individual, regardless of gender, could inherit Clan lands. If land passed into private ownership - usually via being used as security for a mortgage then it was up to the owner to decide to whom to will it to. Women could and did extend mortgages. Women also owned land - as evidenced by Tiobóid na Long á Búrc petitioning for land held by the Uí Máille's of Murrisk which he successfully demonstrated had personally belonged to his grandmother Mairead N Mháille and should therefore have passed to her only child Gráinne.

    Women retained ownership off ALL of their portable property upon marriage - this included Gallowglasses in the instances of Agnes Campbell on her marriage to Turlough Ua Neill and Fionola Inion Dubh Mac Donnall on her marriage to Calbach Ua Donnell. And of course Grainne Ni Mháille personally possessed a fleet of ships.

    If you look at Fergus Kelly's Guide to Early Irish Law you will see there were severe penalties for rape.

    I think you are confusing Gaelic/Brehon law with Common law in which women did have essentially no rights. Women under Common Law also 'lost' ownership of all their property upon marriage.

    I would suggest the works of Donnacha O Corrain - an article on Early Irish marriage can be found at http://www.ucc.ie/celt/marriage_ei.pdf.
    K.W. Nicholls in an essay on Women and Property published in Women in Early Modern Ireland (Eds M Mac Curtain & M O Dowd) demonstrates that women retained their rights into the 17th century.

    Also worth looking at would be the writings of Gillian Kenny, Katherine Simms, Mary McAuliffe and Christine Meeks.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 216 ✭✭valen


    Grace O'Malley's times were hardly 'early Ireland'; most of the Brehon law books were written a thousand years earlier. Those were the laws I'd meant.

    By Grace's day, the English had spent a few hundred years trying to get Irish lords to take English laws, and Ireland had a female queen. Lords frequently chose English or Brehon laws, depending on how they suited them.

    You couldn't inherit 'clan' lands, but you could own lands in your own name - this could be passed on by men, but not by women. Any private land that women inherited returned to being 'clan' lands. When you think of it, this was to avoid women marrying outside the clan, and thus 'losing' land to children of outsiders.

    Early Brehon law had punishment for rape, yes, but I was highlighting that it was not as total as under common law, and had certain notable exceptions - like when out of range of her guardian.

    BTW, by saying women had no legal standing, I'd meant they couldn't make contracts or stand as witnesses, not that they couldn't own property. But it was very difficult to acquire new property without making contracts to exchange cattle etc.

    John


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 9,850 ✭✭✭cgcsb


    CDfm wrote: »
    LOL :D

    There's always one.

    I always imagined homophobia as a Dublin thing and that was thru media reports - was there an Irish Culture of Homophobia.

    Are there records of incidents ?

    homophobia knows no geographical boundary, and Cork certainly isn't an island of sanity on the issue


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    cgcsb wrote: »
    homophobia knows no geographical boundary, and Cork certainly isn't an island of sanity on the issue

    cgcsb - the comment wasn't aimed at you but the old geezer -bang went my theory . Sorry.

    Homosexuality is never ever brought up in Irish history unless its somehow controvercial. Thats why I want to learn a bit more.

    The Self & Flynn murders underline how serious an issue it was even in the 1980's.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 19,218 ✭✭✭✭Bannasidhe


    Letter written by Constance Markievitz which discusses the activities of Dr Kathleen Lynn and her partner Madelaine ffrench- Mullen among other 'fighting' women during 1916.

    Fighting Women
    A memoir by Countess de Markievicz
    (Prison Letters, 1934)

    You ask me to write you an account of my experiences and of the activities of the women of Easter Week. I am afraid that I can only give you a little account of those who were enrolled like me in the Irish Citizen Army, and those who were with me or whom I met during the Week. Some were members of Cuman na-mBan, and others, just women who were ready to die for Ireland.

    My activities were confined to a very limited area. I was mobilised for Liberty Hall and was sent from there via the City Hall to St. Stephen's Green, where I remained.

    On Easter Monday morning there was a great hosting of disciplined and armed men at Liberty Hall.

    Padraic Pearse and James Connolly addressed us and told us that from now the Volunteers and the I.C.A. were not two forces, but the wings of the Irish Republican Army.

    There were a considerable number of I.C.A. women. These were absolutely on the same footing as the men. They took part in all marches, and even in the manoeuvres that lasted all night. Moreover, Connolly made it quite clear to us that unless we took our share in the drudgery of training and preparing, we should not be allowed to take any share at all in the fight. You may judge how fit we were when I tell you that 16 miles was the length of our last route march.

    Connolly had appointed two staff officers - Commandant Mallin and myself I held a commission, giving me the rank of Staff Lieutenant. I was accepted by Tom Clarke and the members of the provisional Government as the second of Connolly's "ghosts." "Ghosts" was the name we gave to those who stood secretly behind the leaders and were entrusted with enough of the plans of the Rising to enable them to carry on that Leader's work should anything happen to himself Commandant Mallin was over me and next in command to Connolly. Dr. Kathleen Lynn was our medical officer, holding the rank of Captain.

    We watched the little bodies of men and women march off; Pearse and Connolly to the G.P:O., Sean Connolly to the City Hall. I went off then with the Doctor in her car. We carried a large store of First Aid necessities and drove off through quiet dusty streets and across the river, reaching the City Hall just at the very moment that Commandant Sean Connolly and his little troop of men and women swung round the corner and he raised his gun and shot the policeman who barred the way. A wild excitement ensued, people running from every side to see what was up. The Doctor got out, and I remember Mrs. Barrett - sister of Sean Connolly - and others helping to carry in the Doctor's bundles. I did not meet Dr. Lynn again until my release, when her car met me and she welcomed me to her house, where she cared for me and fed me up and looked after me till I had recovered from the evil effects of the English prison system.

    When I reported with the car to Commandant Mallin in Stephen's Green, he told me that he must keep me. He said that owing to MacNeill's calling off the Volunteers a lot of the men who should have been under him had had to be distributed round other posts, and that few of those left him were trained to shoot, so I must stay and be ready to take up the work of a sniper. He took me round the Green and showed me how the barricading of the gates and digging trenches had begun, and he left me in charge of this work while he went to superintend the erection of barricades in the streets and arrange other work. About two hours later he definitely promoted me to be his second in command. This work was very exciting when the fighting began. I continued round and round the Green, reporting back if anything was wanted, or tackling any sniper who was particularly objectionable.

    Madeleine ffrench Mullen was in charge of the Red Cross and the commissariat in the Green. Some of the girls had revolivers, and with these they sallied forth and held up bread vans.

    This was necessary because the first prisoner we took was a British officer, and Commandant Mallin treated him as such. He took his parole "as an officer and a gentleman" not to escape, and he left him at large in the Green before the gates were shut. This English gentleman walked around and found out all he could and then "bunked."

    We had a couple of sick men and prisoners in the Band-stand, the Red Cross flag flying to protect them. The English in the Shelbourne turned a machine-gun on to them. A big group of our girls were attending to the sick, making tea for the prisoners or resting themselves. I never saw anything like their courage. Madeleine ffrench Mullen brought them, with the sick and the prisoners, out and into a safer place.

    It was all done slowly and in perfect order. More than one young girl said to me, "What is there to be afraid of? Won't I go straight to heaven if I die for Ireland?" However it was, they came out unscathed from a shower of shrapnel. On Tuesday we began to be short of food. There were no bread carts on the streets. We retired into the College of Surgeons that evening and were joined by some of our men who had been in other places and by quite a large squad of Volunteers, and with this increase in our numbers the problem of food became very serious.

    Nellie Gifford was put in charge of one large classroom with a big grate, but alas, there was nothing to cook. When we were all starving she produced a quantity of oatmeal from somewhere and made pot after pot of the most delicious porridge, which kept us going. But all the same, on Tuesday and Wednesday we absolutely starved. There seemed to be no bread in the town.

    Later on Mary Hyland was given charge of a little kitchen, somewhere down through the houses, near where the Eithne workroom now is.

    We had only one woman casualty - Margaret Skinnader. She, like myself, was in uniform and carried an army rifle. She had enlisted as a private in the I.C.A. She was one of the party who went out to set fire to a house just behind Russell's Hotel. The English opened fire on them from the ground floor of a house just opposite. Poor Freddy Ryan was killed and Margaret was very badly wounded. She owes her life to William Partridge. He carried her away under fire and back to the College. God rest his noble soul. Brilliant orator and Labour leader, comrade and friend of Connolly's, he was content to serve as a private in the I.C.A. He was never strong and the privations he suffered in an English jail left him a dying man.

    Margaret's only regret was her bad luck in being disabled so early in the day (Wednesday of Easter Week) though she must have suffered terribly, but the end was nearer than we thought, for it was only a few days later that we carried her over to Vincent's Hospital, so that she would not fall wounded into the hands of the English.

    The memory of Easter Week with its heroic dead is sacred to us who survived. Many of us could almost wish that we had died in the moment of ecstasy when, with the tri-colour over our heads we went out and proclaimed the Irish Republic, and with guns in our hands tried to establish it.

    We failed, but not until we had seen regiment after regiment run from our few guns. Our effort will inspire the people who come after us, and will give them hope and courage. If we failed to win, so did the English. They slaughtered and imprisoned, only to arouse the nation to a passion of love and loyalty, loyalty to Ireland and hatred of foreign rule. Once they see clearly that the English rule us still, only with a new personnel of traitors and new uniforms, they will finish the work begun by the men and women of Easter Week.



  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    ok - i did not live in Ireland when the laws on homosexuality changed so looking up the Dail Debates interested me and some of the politicians are still around.
    Dáil Éireann - Volume 432 - 23 June, 1993
    Private Members' Business. - Criminal Law (Sexual Offences) Bill, 1993: Second Stage.
    Minister for Justice (Mrs. Geoghegan-Quinn) Máire Geoghegan-Quinn
    Minister for Justice (Mrs. Geoghegan-Quinn): I move, “That the Bill be now read a Second Time.”
    The primary purpose of this Bill, which forms part of a comprehensive programme of reform of the criminal law which I have under way at present, is to decriminalise sexual activity between consenting mature males. The Bill also contains a series of measures designed to protect the vulnerable; and to review and update the law on prostitution and related offences with particular emphasis on sanctions in relation to the clients of prostitutes and those who organise prostitution......................................................................................................We are saying in 1993, over 130 years since that section of criminal law was enacted, that it is time we brought this form of human rights limitation to an end.


    http://historical-debates.oireachtas.ie/D/0432/D.0432.199306230101.html

    The arguments probably reflect society and perceptions people had.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 20,649 ✭✭✭✭CDfm


    An alternative history of Bishop Atherton

    mail_icon.gif
    Peter Marshall explains how a chance reference in an old local history book led him to reconstruct the story of a 17th-century church scandal, and its afterlife in literature, culture and politics.


    Sometimes historical research and writing is a thoroughly methodical business involving the testing of carefully-formulated hypotheses. At other times it feels much more akin to investigative journalism: the historian senses a ‘story’, follows up intriguing leads, and seeks to make connections. Just such a process has led me over the past few years to a preoccupation with the life, and violent death, of John Atherton (b.1598), Protestant bishop of Waterford and Lismore in Ireland. Atherton was hanged in Dublin in December 1640 for the crime of sodomy, making him the only Anglican ‘gay bishop’ ever to pay the ultimate penalty for his orientation.
    The trail leading me to the extraordinary career of Bishop Atherton began with a ghost – not metaphorically, but literally. Some years ago my attention was drawn to a set of papers in the National Archives. This contained the testimony of a group of people from Minehead in Somerset, who in 1637 claimed under oath to have witnessed several apparitions of a recently deceased old lady.

    The lady in question was Susan Leakey, widowed mother of a distressed Mine*head merchant named Alex*ander Leakey. The witnesses included Alexander’s young wife, Elizabeth, who had actually spoken with the ghost during a tense encoun*ter in her bedchamber. Seven*teenth-century ‘ghosts’ were often seen as a way of sorting out disagreements about property and inheri*tance, and on the surface this case seemed to fit the pat*tern. The apparition, so Eliza*beth claimed, had assigned her and her husband owner*ship of a valuable golden chain, currently in the possession of a kinswoman in Barnstaple. There was also something about a secret message to be delivered to Alexander’s sister, Joan Atherton, in Ire*land, which Elizabeth refused to divulge, a detail which seemed inter*esting, but obscure and unfathomable.

    At the time I was col*lecting materials on ghost beliefs in early modern England, and there was much of interest here. Elizabeth reported that Mother Leakey had on her deathbed threatened to return ‘in the devil’s likeness’. She also linked the apparitions with the loss at sea of several of Alexander’s ships. But I was missing something vital, and failing to ask myself an (in hindsight) obvious question. Why were the authorities taking such an interest? The statements were collected by three Justices of the Peace, and sent up to the royal Council in London, where they were carefully scrutin*ized by Charles I’s leading minister, Archbishop William Laud. Neither the state nor Church authorities usually paid much attention to stories about ghosts, unless some crime were being alleged, or the reputation of some great personage was involved.
    In the spring of 2001, while working in the Somer*set Record Office, I hap*pened to pull off the shelves a History of Minehead, pub*lished by a local vicar in 1903. He blithely informed me that what I had assumed to be an obscure nugget of cultural history was in fact ‘the famous Minehead ghost story, immortalized by Sir Walter Scott’. From that point, I became increasingly obsessed with trying to establish how the Minehead ghost had come to the attention of Scot*land’s greatest Romantic novelist, and why the tale was evidently still familiar at the end of Queen Victoria’s reign. What I began to dis*cover was that the depositions from Minehead represented only the tip of an iceberg of rumour and scandal.

    Scott (who referred to the case in his poem Rokeby and in his 1830 Letters on Demon*ology) got his information from a printed source of the early 1700s. From there I worked back to a set of pamph*lets about the case pub*lished in the mid-seven*teenth century, and began to piece together the con*nec*tions between the Leakeys and Bishop Atherton. Atherton was a Somerset clergyman who had married Mother Leakey’s daughter Joan in 1620. In 1630 he took his family to Ireland, where his career was advanced by the Lord Deputy, Sir Thomas Wentworth. Thanks to Wentworth’s good offices the king appointed him bishop of Waterford in 1636 (an event that seems to have been the trigger for Elizabeth Leakey’s visions).

    Atherton’s elevation had nothing to do with spiritual qualities, and everything to do with his abilities as a tough church lawyer. The established Protestant Church of Ireland in the 1630s was in deep crisis. Not only was the great mass of the population, in defiance of the law, still Catholic, but many of the Church’s lands had fallen into the hands of (usually Protestant) lay landowners. The diocese of Waterford was in a partic*ularly impoverished state, and Atherton’s brief was to use the courts aggressively to over*turn leases and return revenues to the Church. In the process he made enemies, not least the great*est landowner in Ireland, Richard Boyle, earl of Cork, who had acquired numerous ecclesiastical estates. Atherton also ant*agonized many Prot*es*tants among the English and Scots settlers. Deputy Wentworth, like Archbishop Laud in Eng*land, was keen to restore ceremony and ritual to Pro*testant services, and Atherton was in the vanguard of this movement. To oppo*nents, this seemed tanta*mount to bringing back ‘popery’. Little wonder then, that, that Laud’s ears should have pricked up when he heard ‘strange news out of Somer*setshire’ about super*natural messages for Bishop Ather*ton, or that he kept Went*worth closely briefed about developments, includ*ing the Justices’ conclusion that it was all an ‘imposture, device and fraud’.

    At the beginning of the 1640s, a wave of Protestant hostility to ‘Laudian’ innov*ations swept across Charles I’s three kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland. The king was forced to summon parliaments in both England and Ireland to raise money to repress Scottish rebellion, and those parliaments them*selves were soon centres of resistance. In June 1640, the Irish opposition in Ireland gained a notable scalp. The parliament in Dublin received a petition from Bishop Atherton’s steward, accusing him of a capital offence – sodomy with the steward himself. Atherton was arrested, and accusations of other acts of sodomy, as well as fornication with single women, and adulteries with married ones, began to pour in. In November, Wentworth himself was put on trial in the House of Lords of the Long Parliament. One of the charges was that he had pro*moted ‘popish and infamous persons, as the Bishop of Waterford and others, to the prime rooms in the Church of Ireland’.

    Atherton was tried and convicted at the end of that month, and hanged in Dub*lin on December 5th. Because the new Lord Deputy had died suddenly two days earlier, a ceremony of ‘deconsecration’ had to be cancelled, and Atherton died wearing his cassock, still fully a bishop. The case caused huge interest for a few weeks, until greater events overtook it: Catholic rebellion in Ire*land in 1641, and Civil War in England the following year.

    But what of the ghost and its message? At this point a whole other dimension of the case began to open itself. A scurrilous pamphlet published a few months after Atherton’s death claimed that he had first fled to Ireland because of ‘incest committed with the sister of his wife’, and that this was the crime the ghost wanted him to repent. This revelation sent me back to the records of the Somerset church courts, which confirm that in 1623 Joan Atherton’s younger sister Susan Leakey had been charged having with sexual relations with her brother-in-law, and that parishioners believed there had been a child.

    There were attempts to keep these skeletons firmly in the cupboard. In 1641, the clergyman who had minis*tered to Atherton in prison, Nicholas Bernard, published a long account entitled The Penitent Death of a Woeful Sinner. Bernard sought to deflect damaging scandal from the Church by stressing Atherton’s remarkable final repentance of all his sins. He made no mention of a ghost, of incest, or even of the crime for which Atherton was convicted, and urged readers to ‘let him die in your thoughts for his life, but let him live in your memories by his penitent death’. The work was reprinted several times in the seventeenth century.

    The ghost, however, made a dramatic comeback. In 1709-10, two London ‘Grub Street’ publishers, Edmund Curll and John Dunton, printed a lurid account of the ghost story, now including, among other colourful details, the claim that Mother Leakey and Atherton had together murdered the illegitimate child, and hidden its body after smoking it in a warming pan, ‘that it might not stink’. The ghost’s message thus concerned infanticide. Their source was a manuscript by a south-western Presbyterian clergy*man, John Quick, who in 1690 had written down what local people were telling him about the case in the 1660s. These new revelations sparked a counter-attack from some ‘high Anglicans’, who interpreted them as an attack on the Church. They began to insist that Atherton had been innocent of all serious charges, and was in fact framed by his enemies, including the earl of Cork. In the eighteenth century, Ather*ton’s memory became something of a political foot*ball between Whigs and Tories, with the latter tending to give him benefit of the doubt (an exception was the Irish-born Jonathan Swift, who wrote scathingly about him in a poem of 1730). In the course of these debates, some new and frankly bizarre allegations emerged, such as that the cause of Atherton’s downfall was ‘the sin of unclean*ness with a cow and other creatures’.


    http://www.historytoday.com/peter-marshall/sex-scandal-and-supernatural


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