by Pat Walsh
‘Biting on granite’
Dean D’Alton had his share of supporters on the letters pages. Thomas Concannon of Dorset Street, Dublin, was of the opinion that when the Local Appointments Commissioners came up against such men as Dean D’Alton they were ‘biting on granite’.8
Other scribes joined in the debate with Dr Hennessy. Mr Concannon was of the opinion that Dr Hennessy was ‘windy’. His letter was ‘so well written, even for a doctor, that one instinctively asks – who is backing him?’ He then went on to suggest an answer to his own question. ‘Perhaps Dr Hennessy will be invited to drink the toast to the “Pious, Glorious and Immortal Memory of King Billy”, who saved us from popes and popery. Contrary to what Dr Hennessy says, and speaking with intimate knowledge of the subject, I reiterate that Catholics – I refer more particularly to Irish Catholics – do not get, and they consider it futile to seek, higher official positions in Protestant countries. Let Dr Hennessy produce his facts and avoid generalities. It is not deniable that Catholics do occasionally pick up minor official positions, not much sought for, where the emoluments just about cover the expenses. I see Dr Hennessy is engaged in the export business. If we continue to export our brains (assuming that doctors have brains) and likewise our capital, we shall certainly progress.’9
Dr Hennessy’s correspondence developed into a number of long-running feuds in which he gave as good as he got. Though he was fighting a lonely battle, he was not without his supporters. The Labour Party newspaper, The Watchword, gave him a special commendation. ‘And when the honours are being distributed,’ it wrote, ‘let us not forget Dr Hennessy, who, in spite of some lapses, conducted a vigorous case against big odds in the press.’10
By 19 December the Irish Independent declared that they had received enough correspondence. The letters editor announced, ‘We regret that we cannot allow this controversy to continue indefinitely.’ However, despite declaring the correspondence closed, the Irish Independent continued to receive and publish numerous letters on the developing crisis.
‘The hydra-headed monster of intolerance’
On 6 December 1930 The Connaught Telegraph published an editorial which endeavoured to bring a voice of moderation to an increasingly heated dispute. ‘It would be extremely regrettable,’ it wrote, ‘to have the hydra-headed monster of intolerance showing its ugly form in what is essentially a business matter, but the librarianship is not like any ordinary appointment. In fact it is more in the nature of a teachership, or rather a literary instructor of the people, the most important function of which would be to select reading matter suitable to the national and Catholic needs of the people.’11
The editorial went on to suggest a possible compromise by placing Miss Dunbar Harrison in some other county. ‘Unless this view is taken … bitterness and a very bad taste will remain, and our library will cease to exist after the expiration of the current financial year.’ This argument was impressively moderate compared to the opinions quoted in the same newspaper the following week regarding the influence of a librarian:
A librarian wields large power. He inevitably impresses his private tastes on the selection of books that he handles. His advice is sought by ill-read persons who wish to enlarge their knowledge. If he is inspired by the right ideals, he will encourage the reading of appropriate books. If he is foreign in his ideals, his library will diffuse a foreign influence. If he is not a Catholic, his standards will be different from ours …
We are not a bigoted people. We accord to Protestants a prosperity that is immeasurably beyond their proportionate share of the country’s fortunes, and we do not grudge them their shops, factories and warehouses. They have no cause for complaint. We say, however, that they have no right to occupy places in which they can propagate their doctrines among our people. We will buy our books from a Protestant; we will bank with a Protestant; but we will not let him teach our children … We will not willingly see him furnish the bulk of any Catholic reading matter in books or newspapers. We will not let him undo our censorship and spread in our country the propaganda of foreign vices. In brief, we must control our own system of education and culture. No decent Protestant challenges this reasonable claim.12
If this was the local attitude, conflict with the central government was inevitable.
Notes
1.The Irish Times, 3 December 1930, p.6.
2.The Church of Ireland Gazette, 5 December 1930, p.684.
3.The Irish Times, 6 December 1930, p.6.
4.Irish Independent, 11 December 1930, p.10.
5.Ibid., p.12.
6.Irish Independent, 13 December 1930, p.12.
7.Ibid., 18 December 1930, p.9.
8.Ibid., 13 December 1930, p.12.
9.Mayo News, 27 December 1930, p.6.
10.The Watchword, 3 January 1931, p.1.
11.The Connaught Telegraph, 6 December 1930, p.4.
12.Ibid., 13 December 1930, p.6.
Chapter 3
‘Cesspools of infamy’
While the controversy raged in the letters pages of the newspapers, other political developments were unfolding. At the 6 December meeting of Mayo County Council the councillors approved the findings of the library committee and decided to employ legal counsel to oppose any action the minister might see fit to take to enforce the recommendation of the Local Appointments Commission. On the advice of the county secretary, M.J. Egan, the legal deliberations of the councillors were held in private. As The Connaught Telegraph put it, ‘There was some dissent when the reporters were asked to leave.’ However, undeterred by this journalistic setback, The Connaught Telegraph went on to give a detailed account of what had happened in the private session: ‘The secretary read senior counsel’s opinion, and warned the council as to their liability for costs and expenses in the event of the Department of Local Government taking “mandamus proceedings”.’1
The fundamental question that the councillors had to ask themselves was whether or not they were acting legally? Or at the very least, on a more practical level, if it came to it, could they defend themselves in court?
Local administration was no different from any other arm of government; it acted subject to judicial review. As historian Desmond Roche puts it, ‘A local authority must be able to adduce legal authority for its actions. If a local authority purports to do something in exercise of its powers but is acting beyond these powers it is said to be acting ultra vires and can be restrained by the High Court. On the other hand, if it fails to carry out a duty imposed by law, the court may direct it to perform the duty.’2
The High Court could find against the council and issue a prerogative order of mandamus. So, in essence the Department of Local Government was threatening to take the council to court so as to compel it to appoint Miss Dunbar Harrison. In this case there was the added hazard that the government had let it be known that they would hold the councillors personally liable for any costs incurred if the courts found against them.
At the end of the legal arguments the press was recalled. The public session began with Richard Walsh, the Fianna Fáil TD for Mayo South, declaring that his party would not stand for the turning down of Miss Dunbar Harrison on sectarian grounds. He did not object to Miss Dunbar Harrison on the grounds of her religion or the educational establishment from which she had graduated, while not disagreeing with the resolution of the library committee, he totally disagreed with the discussion that had taken place in reference to sectarian bias. P.J. Ruttledge, a Fianna Fáil TD for Mayo North, endorsed his party colleague’s position.
Councillor Munnelly alleged that ‘if Miss Dunbar was not a relative of one of the cabinet ministers she would not be forced upon us.’3
Councillor John Morahan of Fianna Fáil made the point that he was deviating from his own party’s line. He announced that he would vote against Miss Dunbar Harrison on the grounds of religion even at the risk of being expelled from Fianna Fáil, as his duty as an Irishman and a Catholic took precedence over his membership of a politica
l party.4 He went on to argue that ‘the weaker they thought we were in the South, the worse they would treat the Catholics in the North,’ and his view was that ‘they should be given tit for tat … The Catholics of the Free State should make no apology for their religion, or be deluded by any humbug about slavish tolerance having any effect in the North.’
‘Tales of a council chamber’
Councillor Martin O’Donnell, a national-school teacher from Kilmeena, Westport, subsequently wrote to The Connaught Telegraph. ‘The press, wisely or otherwise,’ he said, ‘was excluded from the earlier portion of the discussion, and consequently some interesting opinions, which may, some other day, come to light in “Tales of a Council Chamber” are for the present withheld from the public. I had a resolution on the matter, but, in deference to unity – happy word – withdrew it, and what appeared to me a milk-and-water attitude was taken up, wholly unworthy of the matter in dispute and unworthy of the occasion. Accepting the situation as the lesser of two evils, I refrained from saying a word in the discussion that afterwards followed.’
‘The rack and the gibbet’
He then went on to express a few of the thoughts he would have said at the meeting given half a chance. ‘Even if she were qualified,’ he said, ‘and had qualifications to spare, the unsavoury history of the past would have made her appointment most undesirable and most unsuitable and would be looked upon as a menace by many fathers and mothers of Mayo whose children are catered for from the library.
‘… Trinity College, an Elizabethan institution, founded and maintained as an English outpost in Ireland, to uphold English power, English customs, English culture, and English religion … And as with Trinity, its aims and objectives, so has the whole course of English rule been directed. Time and circumstances guided the means employed. Sometimes the methods employed were brutal, sometimes peaceful; but whether it was the rack and the gibbet of Penal days, or the shooting down of innocent people at Bachelor’s Walk in our own day, or the soup-kitchens of Plunkett, or the meal-tubs of the Rev. Nangle, the object was always the same – the destruction of the Irish nation, the perversion of its people.’5
This was a lot of guilt to lay at the feet of one young librarian.
‘What a tyranny we have in our midst!’ he continued. ‘Was it for this our fathers struggled? And was it for this our boys fought and died? To overthrow a foreign tyranny, only to be followed by a domestic one. Substitution of tyrannies is not the definition of Freedom … with voice and vote I’ll continue to resist, and should the government by their action succeed in killing our library scheme, with regret I’ll follow its hearse and hope and pray for a speedy retribution.’6
Such was the hostility generated by the issue that for a while it was rumoured locally that ‘Miss Dunbar had withdrawn from the position, but no official confirmation could be obtained.’7 This speculation turned out to be unfounded but it is typical of the fevered atmosphere that prevailed at the time. Given the level of controversy stirred up, it would have been little wonder if Miss Dunbar Harrison had thought better of the whole endeavour. But in December 1930 such jobs were not that easy to come by, in Ireland or elsewhere.
Perhaps the government had hoped that the mere threat of legal action would encourage Mayo’s councillors to change their minds. Instead both sides had, if anything, become even more entrenched in their relative positions. Now that the council had refused to back down the ball was back in the minister’s court.
‘The minister’s new move’
On 10 December the Irish Independent reported on the ‘minister’s new move’. General Richard Mulcahy had ordered ‘a sworn inquiry to be held by Mr J. McLysaght [sic], inspector, at Castlebar on 17 December, into the discharge of their duties by the Mayo County Council, following their refusal to appoint Miss Letitia Dunbar as librarian for County Mayo.’8
The Irish Independent’s political correspondent was also told that the minister had arrived at his decision after receiving the minutes of the County Council meeting and that he had the full support of the cabinet. The very fact that the spin doctors of their day chose to leak this information to the papers shows the pressure that Cumann na nGaedheal felt they were under. As ever there were rumours of splits within the party. Given the fact that their most senior TD in Mayo, Michael Davis, was known to be unhappy about the developing situation, this was unsurprising. The Irish Times confidently stated that the decision to hold an inquiry was a change of tactics by the government and that initially they had intended on ‘proceeding against the council by way of “mandamus” to enforce the appointment.’9 One can only assume that the government decided against this action based on legal advice that they might not be on strong enough grounds to win the case. And, even if their view prevailed, they would only succeed in making martyrs of the councillors in their home county.
The Irish Times went on to predict, ‘If the inspector finds that the council has neglected to carry out its statutory functions, the sequel may be the suppression of the council and the handing over of its duties to a paid commissioner.’10
It is debatable whether threatening the council with abolition and replacement by a commissioner was politically any more acceptable than taking it to court and personally pursuing the councillors for damages. The most likely explanation for this slight change of tack is that the government decided that this was a simpler course to follow, one over which they would have more control.
The decision to hold a sworn inquiry was conveyed by telegram to the county secretary in Castlebar. The Irish Independent echoed the message in The Irish Times. ‘Western deputies in Leinster House … were now asking whether the minister’s step might mean the abolition of the County Council and the appointment of a commissioner.’11 There is little doubt that this was the message the government wanted to get across, that they were in earnest and that the threat to the existence of the council was serious. The threat of dissolution, rather like being sentenced to be hanged, was designed to focus the minds of the county councillors.
As time went on the rumours grew even wilder. The Irish Independent repeated Councillor Munnelly’s allegation that Miss Dunbar Harrison ‘was a near relative of one of the chief ministers of the state.’12 It is believed that the minister referred to was the Minister for Finance, Ernest Blythe, who was the only Protestant in the cabinet, thus emphasising the sectarian undercurrent that ran through all of the antipathy shown towards Miss Dunbar Harrison.
By this stage the dispute was creating so much turmoil that President Cosgrave decided it was time for him to step into the fray. On 11 December he made a short and carefully worded statement to the Dáil: ‘The qualifications prescribed as essential for the post of county librarian,’ he said, ‘were a good general education and training in or experience of library work. A diploma in library training and practical experience in office organisation were stated to be desirable but not essential. A substantial preference was to be given to qualified candidates with a competent knowledge of Irish. If no such candidate were available for Mayo, the successful candidate would be required to comply with the terms of the Local Offices and Employments (Gaeltacht) Order 1928.’13
This order enabled successful candidates who did not have Irish to be given three years in which to learn the language.
‘There were five posts to be filled,’ President Cosgrave continued. ‘The selection board having interviewed all the candidates reported that only five were fully qualified according to the terms of the advertisement. Two of these had a competent knowledge of Irish; the remaining three had some slight knowledge of the language. Preference having been given, as prescribed, to the two candidates who had a competent knowledge of Irish, the five candidates were placed in order of merit and a choice of the five posts was given to the candidates according to their places. The recommendation of Miss Dunbar for the appointment in Mayo resulted from these arrangements.’
President Cosgrave had detailed briefing papers with background knowledge that
he did not divulge in the Dáil chamber at the time. The five county librarian vacancies to which he referred were located in Carlow, Cavan, Leitrim, Meath and Mayo.
‘Miss Dunbar,’ President Cosgrave continued, ‘had attended a course of library training in the National University, and her library experience was obtained during a training period of one and a quarter years in the libraries of County Dublin and Rathmines. In constituting boards of selection to interview and report upon the merits of candidates for this, as well as other classes of local appointments, the Local Appointments Commissioners take care to ensure that the boards include persons possessing qualifications and experience allied to the post under consideration. In the normal course I do not know, nor does the minister know, the names of the persons who have acted on a selection board. But I called for that information in this case, and am in a position to state that the board consisted of a university professor and three librarians of much experience. As a board for the purposes of the appointments in question I am satisfied that this was a thoroughly competent one.’
In reply to a question regarding allegations of favouritism, President Cosgrave added, ‘I have seen such suggestions in the press reports of speeches made at meetings in Mayo. There is no foundation whatever for these suggestions. The lady in question is not a relation of any minister – even if she were, I should not regard that as a proper ground for rendering her ineligible – but, as it happens, she is not. In regard to the allegations of religious prejudice, I may say that the Local Appointments Commissioners are not in a position to say what the religion of any particular member of a selection board may be. Selection boards are not chosen on that basis. It happens that I am personally aware that every member of this particular board was a Catholic.’14