Category Archives: History

Letter describes ‘extraordinarily beautiful’ Achill Island in summer 1923

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(Of all the correspondence that I have ever read in various archives, few match the letter below for its lovely descriptions of the west of Ireland. This post was origionally published in July 2024. MH)

Chester A. Arthur III, grandson of the late 19th century U.S. president, and his wife, Charlotte, lived in Ireland for several years beginning in 1922.[1]The couple married in June 1922 in England, then honeymooned and settled in Ireland. The also traveled to other parts of Europe and back to the United States. Chester was bisexual, including affairs … Continue reading Chester supported anti-treaty republicans in the Irish Civil War. He wrote letters to the editor and longer pieces about Ireland for U.S. newspapers.

The American couple befriended Irish nationalists Darryl and Millie Figgis. The Irish couple in 1913 had bought a small house and some land at Pullagh, Achill Island, in County Mayo, a place to escape the noise and grime of Dublin. That became more true during the ensuing decade of revolutionary violence. The Arthurs arrived as the Figgis’ guests in July 1923. Chester, then 22, described their “cozy little cottage by the broad Atlantic” in a letter to his mother.[2]From the large collection of Arthur family papers at the Library of Congress.

Lightly edited selections of his descriptions begin below the photo:

Achillbeg, Achill Island                                                                                                                                         Fáilte Ireland

“Although there is not a tree within miles, the huge cliffs, the golden beach, the heather purple hills and the turquoise green sea make this place one of the most extraordinarily beautiful I have ever seen. And here of course is the real Gaeltacht, the real Ireland unanglicized and pagan. Each family builds and repairs their own stone whitewashed walls and their own barley thatch. They are self-supporting, their clothes are hand-made from the sheep’s back to their own; they cure their own hams, grind their own oatmeal, brew their own poteen, and catch and dry their own fish.

“Irish of course is the language spoken and sung in plaintive harmony. The men wear short white jackets and big black hats; sometimes the sweater underneath is blue and sometimes burned orange (both dyes are taken from the sea). Their trousers are of the thick homespun which in England is only worn by gentlemen. The women sit behind them sidewise on the horse’s rump when they go to Mass. Their skirts are usually brilliant red, their bodices either green, blue or purple; the shawls over their heads are always black. They have very wide high cheekbones, rather delicately chiseled straight noses, and straight black or red hair. Their long eyes are almost always very beautiful, every color that the sea takes on incites moods. If they do not know you they are very shy, but after the ice is broken, they prove very witty and amusing.

“A cèilidh[3]A social gathering with singing, dancing, and storytelling. was gotten up in our honor. The Figgis’ are very popular here. Almost the whole village crowds into a small cabin and after a few songs the four most enterprising young men get out in the middle and beckon the four belles for the square dance. They clog and whirl themselves a space in the crowd, which packs up against the walls. The room gets very hot, the clean healthy sweat from the dancers fill the air with a primitive very stimulating aroma. Eyes begin to gleam; queer little stifled cries burst from the boys as they stomp and whirl around and around their partners, who turn and turn and command respect with their eyes, yet invite and call with every essence of their bodies. And all the time the fiddle is scraping away music thousands of years old, rhythm inconceivably quick and throbbing, yet in minor key, and with a queer bagpipe drone making almost a syncopation of discord; the very heart of the stranger beats in time to the little lame boy’s fiddling.

“Now as I write, I gaze out of the little deep set window across the boggy headland, where the old women are gathering peat, across the sea, which like a great cruel gray cat lies between the violet mountains, and purrs as its sleep. The wind is keening the drowned fishermen whom the grey cat has struck with his claws. And every now and then the wind dies down, in a flash of sunshine, the cat opens his long green eyes and looks at me; but always dozes off to sleep again.

“The wind is never still here. Sometimes it only moans and cries a drone to the seagulls’ piping; but then at other times it rises with the force of a hundred djinns (In Arabian and Muslim mythology, an intelligent spirit of lower rank than the angels) and carries away the roof of the houses however securely they are tied it to the imp-headed beams sticking out from the walls near the top. And then the people pray, some to God the Father, and some to Manannán,[4]Celtic sea god. and some to both—it is all the same, for they will have in any case to rob the cow of her barley straw, and weave a new thatch, and try some new device to keep it on. But sometimes the winds work under the slates of the new British built houses, and slates go flying over the bog and over the grey cliffs into the sea; then what glee among the natives that the newfangled roofs are really no better than the roof their fathers taught them to make, only when they do fly off  they cost twice as much and take twice as long to repair. …

“A fisherman was drowned the other day. The sea was dragged with grappling hooks, prayers were offered up for the recovery of the body for burial in holy ground. All Christian means having failed, the dead man’s coat was sent for. After it had been blessed by the priest, an incantation was whispered over it preserved from Druid days, and then it was taken out and thrown into the sea. The swift current bore it along until suddenly it seemed to resist the force of the current and rested still. The sea was dragged and just under the coat the man’s body was found, and great thanks were given up to God.

“… The lad[5]Presumably, D. Figgis. and I go on expeditions up the mountains and fishing on the sea. We swim twice a day, so we don’t care that there are no bathtubs. Charlotte and Mrs. Figgis accompany us whenever they can and keep each other company except at mealtime when they marvel at the quantity we eat. No life could be healthier than this, certainly. We are so tired at ten o’clock that we go to bed and right to sleep though it is still very light.

“I am certainly going to have a cottage on this wild west coast of Ireland to which I can go in retreat from the roiling of the great world. Everything here is primitive and oh so restful and refreshing after New York and Dublin. Real communism exists as a matter of course here, for the people love each other. Love and hard work and a close touch with nature, what more ennobling can be found in life?”

Not long after their visit to Achill Island, Chester and Charlotte Arthur witnessed the August 1923 arrest of Éamon de Valera at a campaign event at Ennis, County Clare. Within the next two years Millie and Darryl Figgis each committed suicide. The Arthurs divorced in 1932.

Keem Beach, Achill Island.                                                                                                                                  Fáilte Ireland

References

References
↑1 The couple married in June 1922 in England, then honeymooned and settled in Ireland. The also traveled to other parts of Europe and back to the United States. Chester was bisexual, including affairs with Irish republicans. See Maurice J. Casey’s, “A Queer Migrant in the Irish Civil War.”
↑2 From the large collection of Arthur family papers at the Library of Congress.
↑3 A social gathering with singing, dancing, and storytelling.
↑4 Celtic sea god.
↑5 Presumably, D. Figgis.

Guest post: Mayo wins All-Ireland; ends 75-year curse

(Regular readers of this blog will be aware of my ancestral roots in County Kerry. So it is in the spirit of good sportsmanship and friendship that I am delighted to publish this guest post by County Mayo historian Daniel Carey. MH) 

It’s an Irish sporting story that’s been heard round the world. Former US President Joe Biden has sent his congratulations. The New York Times has written in depth about it. And a lot of people who thought Mayo was only a thick, creamy sauce now know it’s also the home of the All-Ireland Gaelic football champions.

Daniel Carey, left, and Eamonn McConnon of DCU Research enjoy a post-match drink.

Mayo’s victory in the final against defending champions Kerry (who were seeking a record fortieth title) marked the end of a long wait. This title, Mayo’s fourth, came 75 years since their last success in the premier competition for Gaelic football. Since 1951, when they last triumphed, Mayo have been to the All-Ireland final eleven times, and came up short every time. Until 2026.

Much of the international coverage of Mayo’s triumph has been framed around the ending of a curse to rival that of the Bambino (Babe Ruth and the Boston Red Sox, 1918-2004), or the Chicago Cubs billy goat (1945-2016). In Ireland, the story goes that overly enthusiastic celebrations in the wake of the 1951 success disrupted a funeral in the Mayo town of Foxford, which prompted an enraged priest to announce that Mayo would never win an All-Ireland title while the players involved were still alive. The fact that there is no record of any such funeral taking place, or any account of an alleged curse dating back further than the 1990s, were, of course, mere details. A series of hard-luck stories in finals had made the curse a part of Mayo lore. The last surviving member of the squad died in 2023.

Curse or no curse, Ireland in 1951 was a very different place than today. The major political scandal that year involved the resignation of Minister for Health Noel Browne, whose efforts to introduce free maternity care (the so-called Mother and Child Scheme) faltered in the face of opposition from the Catholic Church hierarchy and the medical establishment and a cabinet happy to have the bishops dictate social policy. Mass attendance (more than 95 percent among Irish Catholics in the early 1950s, according to historian Louise Fuller) was then a rite observed by virtually all match attendees on Sunday morning. Not that there was a shortage of Mayo prayers in 2026: the day of the final coincided with Reek Sunday, an annual day of pilgrimage in which thousands come to Mayo to climb Croagh Patrick, a holy mountain on which Saint Patrick is said to have fasted for forty days on the summit.

Ireland is not only a less religious society three-quarters of a century on, it has also been transformed by technology. Much of Mayo was without electricity in 1951, the rural electrification scheme having only begun in 1946. Running water and indoor toilets were also beyond the reach of many. People sharing accounts of attending the 1951 final describe journeying the width of the country by bicycle. One thing remains the same: though they may train like professionals, then as now the players are amateurs; they receive travelling expenses, but not pay for play.

Unemployment and emigration were facts of life in the impoverished west of Ireland in the mid-twentieth century. The Commission on Emigration and Other Problems report, released in 1954, found that Mayo had experienced net emigration of 52,200 between 1926 and 1951. The destinations may have changed – young adults now head for Dubai or Australia rather than Boston or Cleveland – but Mayo people can still be found all over the world. In his post-match speech, Mayo captain Jack Coyne specifically mentioned those living far from home. “To every young boy and girl across Mayo and our diaspora across the world,” he said, “never stop dreaming, stick your chests out and be proud to be from Mayo.”

There was barely a dry eye in the house as Coyne uttered those words, having moments earlier lifted the Sam Maguire Cup (a trophy named for a Cork-born Irish republican, a replica of the famous Ardagh Chalice). While fans of the losing team generally leave before the formal presentation, most the 83,000-plus crowd remained in situ to watch history being made.

Irish newspapers reported Mayo’s victory in the 2026 All-Ireland Gaelic football final, ending a 75-year “curse” since the county’s last win in 1951.

In the absence of television (which would not arrive in Ireland for another decade), footage of the 1951 final appeared on newsreels. Television was, of course, the medium of choice in 2026 for those watching live, but social media has dominated the dissemination since. Mayo manager Andy Moran, a celebrated former player, himself referenced the two-minute clip of the final stages of the game as heard on the local station, Midwest Radio. Mayo fan Shane Fitzgerald was captured on camera blessing himself, bursting into tears and collapsing to his knees at the final whistle. Congratulatory messages came in to this writer’s phone from all parts of Ireland … and from Indian, Iranian and American friends who have been introduced to the Mayo story and been captivated by it.

The county anthem ‘The Green and Red of Mayo’ (sung by the Saw Doctors, a band from neighbouring County Galway) got not one but two outings over the Croke Park public address system after the final whistle … and has been heard hundreds of time since. Twenty-four hours later, approximately 60,000 people were at MacHale Park, the Mayo stadium in the county town of Castlebar, to welcome home the team (and the Sam Maguire Cup). Joe Biden was referencing the eponymous trophy when he shouted “Mayo for Sam” on a visit to his ancestral home of Ballina in 2023. Three years later – nay, 75 years later – Sam is finally in Mayo. And there’s been no talk about disrupted funerals.

(Daniel Carey is a postdoctoral researcher at the School of Communications in Dublin City University. His current project, funded by Research Ireland, examines the archives of the Catholic Standard newspaper, published in Ireland between 1928 and 1978. A native of Mayo, he spent 11 years as a print journalist with the Westport-based Mayo News.)

On printing, and reproducing, the 1916 Easter Proclamation

Scituate, Massachusetts, USA, part of the South Shore Irish Heritage Trail. (October 2022)

The three men inside Dublin’s Libery Hall surely heard the church bells tolling on Easter Sunday, even over the cacophany of their printing press. Perhaps the trio reflectively straightened to bless themselves. But they quickly returned to their ink-stained work, laboring from midday Sunday until early Monday morning. Hours later, in front the General Post Office on O’Connell Street, Pádraig Pearse read aloud from a copy of their finished work: the 1916 Easter Proclamation:

“IRISHMEN AND IRISHWOMEN: In the name of God and of the dead generations from which she receives her old tradition of nationhood, Ireland, through us, summons her children to her flag and strikes for her freedom. …”

Before that signal moment, the three workers–printer Christopher Brady, and compositors Michael Malloy and Liam O’Brien–produced the Proclamation in two stages, top and bottom, due to lack of type. The two sections are identifiable by different line spacing. The tempramental rollers of their old Wharfdale Double-Crown printing press meant uneven pressure smudged some letters, while others appeared too faint. See images and videio at this online exhibition from University College Cork.

Copies of the Easter Proclamation proliferated quickly. Fascimiles and newly typeset versions appeared in the American press within days of the British military supressing the uprising. More copies appeared after the execution of the rebel leaders.

From the front page of Fall River (Massachusetts) Daily Globe, May 19, 1916. Press reports as early as May 1, 1916, quoted the Proclamation in full.  

About 60 origional copies of the Declaration are know to have survived from a press run estaimated at no more than 1,000.  That’s 6 percent, 110 years later. As context, there are 26 origional copies of the 1776 Declaration of Independence, known as the Dunlap Broadside, from a press run of 200. That’s 13 percent, 250 years later.

About half the surving origional copies of the Procalamation are held at public institutions in Ireland, including UCC and Trinity College Dublin. But the document has been widely reproduced, including public monuments on both sides of the Atlantic. See top and below.

Dungarvan, County Waterford, Ireland. (June 2026)

Leon Uris’s ‘Trinity’ at 50

I am traveling and working on several projects this summer. New posts will be infrequent. The piece linked below appears in the July/August issue of the Dublin-based History Ireland magazine. MH

American author Leon Uris released his eighth novel, Trinity, shortly before St Patrick’s Day 1976 and the deadliest years of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. In promotional interviews Uris emphasized that readers would ‘better understand the headlines coming out of Ireland today, because the past of Ireland is being constantly repeated’. This was a paraphrase of his novel’s soon-to-be-famous last sentence, that ‘in Ireland there is no future, only the past happening over and over’, which modified a line from Eugene O’Neill’s A Moon for the Misbegotten.

Read ‘When Irish History, And News, Became Best-Selling Fiction’ at History Ireland.

 

TCD offers Davitt exhibit onsite & online through June

Davitt

“Michael Davitt was a prolific writer, keeping diaries of his ideas and impressions while working as a freelance journalist for most of his career. Many of his articles took the form of letters to the press, which were later published as pamphlets. Through his journalism, Davitt practiced a form of activism, using his writing to highlight the struggles of society’s most marginalised and advocate for reforms and support.”

The quote is from the Character is better than wealth: The enduring legacy of Michael Davitt exhibition at Trinity College Dublin. It was curated by Ciara Daly, a project archivist at TCD, which holds some 7,000 items from Davitt’s lifetime, 1846-1906. He visited the United States six times between 1878 and 1901.

I spent a few days in February 2018 reviewing a portion of the Davitt archive, and visiting the Michael Davitt Musuem in Straide, County Mayo, where he was born and buried. The research related to my “Ireland Under Coercion, Revisited” project, mentioned in the previous post. See the posts Meeting Davitt and More Davitt. My piece “1888: An American Journalist In Ireland Meets Michael Davitt & Arthur Balfour” also published on The Irish Story later that year.

Davitt’s grave, Straide, County Mayo, February 2018.

HIATIUS: I am traveling and working on other projects. New posts will be infrequent through the spring and summer. I can be reached via contact form on the “About Me” page. Thanks, MH

An American journalist’s connection to Ireland and Egypt

HIATIUS: I am traveling and working on other projects. New posts will be infrequent through the spring and summer. I can be reached via contact form on the “About Me” page. Thanks, MH

What does a 3,500-year-old Egyptian red granite obelisk in New York City’s Central Park have to do with Ireland or Irish America? Nothing. But there are indirect connections.

Hurlbert

William Henry Hurlbert, a late-nineteenth century editor of the New York World, determined the city should match London’s acquisition of a similar object. His campaign resulted in the June 1880 arrival of the seven-story (69 feet) obelisk, seen below. It was raised in February 1881 on a small hill behind the Metrololitian Museum of Art, which opened about the same time. The MET holds one of the world’s largest Egyptian collections under its roof, in addition to the so-called “Cleopatra’s Needle” in the park.

The link to Ireland comes through Hurlbert, who traveled throughout the island in early 1888. Later that year he published the book, Ireland Under Coercion: The Diary of an American. The conservative Hurlbert was pro-landlord and anti-home rule. Read about his work in my 2018 blog series: “Ireland Under Coercion, Revisited.”

I have visited numerous places in Ireland that Hurlbert described in his book. I was pleased to remember his connection to the obelisk as I walked through Central Park on my way to the American Irish Historical Society. Founded in Boston in 1897 (Hurlbert died two years earlier), the Society since 1940 has been located at 991 Fifth Avenue, directly across from the MET, barely a five-minute walk from the granite tower.

American journalist William Henry Hurlbert led an 1880 campaign to bring this Egyptian obelisk to Central Park in New York City. Eight years later he wrote a book about Ireland.

Ireland’s 1926 census released to the public

HIATIUS: I am traveling and working on other projects. New posts will be infrequent through the spring and summer. Reach me from contact form on the “About Me” page. Thanks, MH

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More than 700,000 digitized pages of 1926 Irish Free State census return sheets have been released by the National Archives of Ireland. The sheets show names and individualized details such as religion, education, and occupation. They are a gold mine for historians and genealogists.

I located my relations in less than a minute. Begin your search here.

January 1926 US newspaper headline over Hearst story about census on both sides of the Irish border.

The 1926 census was the first headcount in Ireland since 1911. The 15-year stretch included the First World War (1914-1918), Irish War of Independence (1919-1921), and Irish Civil War (1922-1923).

“Matters were too disturbed in the country from one end to the other in 1921–the date of the last British census–for such an operation to be possible at all in Ireland,” Hearst’s International News Service explained to American newspaper readers in a January 1926 story. The return of the census signaled “another hopeful sign of the better relations between the long divided sections of Ireland, growing out of the amicable settlement of the boundary dispute, that they can agree to take their censuses on the same day, that is engage in the peaceful pursuit of counting heads instead of breaking them.”[1]”Irish Census To Be Completed Soon”, New Castle (Pa.) News, Jan. 20, 1926, and other papers.

Continue reading →

References

References
↑1 ”Irish Census To Be Completed Soon”, New Castle (Pa.) News, Jan. 20, 1926, and other papers.

Fact-checking St. Patrick’s desnaking of Ireland

Those dang fact-checkers; always deflating a good political talking point or ruining a cherished legend. And so with St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland. An online search of “St. Patrick” and “snakes” today returns this AI overview:

The legend of St. Patrick driving snakes out of Ireland is a popular myth symbolizing his eradication of paganism, not a factual event. Scientifically, snakes never inhabited post-glacial Ireland due to cold temperatures and surrounding oceans. The story first appeared in literature centuries after his life.

But the popular press of a century ago also fact-checked the legend. The clipping below is from the March 17, 1926, edition of the Washington Evening Star. William Montana Mann (1886-1960) was director of the National Zoo from 1925 until 1956. As an entemologist, he specialized in ants, not snakes. William Shepard Walsh (1854–1919) was an American folklorist and author. Walsh died seven years before the Evening Star quoted from his 1897 book, Curiosities of Popular Customs and of rites, ceremonies, observations, and miscellaneous antiquities. See page 790.

Washington Evening Star, March 17, 1926.

The Washington Post of a century ago gave a softer, cartoon treatment to the legend of St. Patrick, sans snakes, in addition to news coverage of the day’s festivities in the US capital. The graphic says Patrick baptized “over 12,000 people.” AI says “over 100,000, up to 130,000.”

Who really knows about such things?

From the archives: ‘Mrs. Brophy’s late husband’

James Brophy. Of Dublin? Or New York?

James Brophy died in Dublin on Feb. 12, 1921, the civilian casualty of a stray bullet in Ireland’s War of Independence. About the same time, an Irish immigrant of the same name disappeared from his family in New York City.

When newspapers America reported the death of Mr. Brophy in Dublin, Mrs. Brophy of New York urged U.S. diplomats and Irish police to investigate the case of her missing husband. The coincidence offers a glimpse of early 20th century Irish lives on both sides of the Atlantic, when handwritten letters crossed each other at sea and personal identification was more vague than today.

I wrote “Mrs. Brophy’s Late Husband” for The Irish Story in December 2016. It offers a unique view of Ireland’s revolutionary period and Irish America from the perspective of people at the edges of history. Such stories “humanize and enrich history by reminding us that the study of the past should include the study of the lives of ordinary people, their attitudes, beliefs, motives, experiences and actions,” Bill McDowell wrote in Historical Research: A Guide for Writers of Dissertations, Theses, Articles and Books.

This story has been a reader favorite in the past. I hope new audiences might enjoy it, too. MH

McEntee comments on House ‘censorship’ allegations

This post has been revised from our live blog of the Feb. 4 “Bridging the Atlantic VII” conference at Georgetown University. MH

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Irish Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade Helen McEntee, TD, has addressed the House Judiciary Report ​report allegations of “harassment” and “censorship” by the EU and Coimisiún na Meán against tech groups to undermine conservative and populist parties.​

McEntee would not take my question about the matter after her keynote speech at Georgetown’s seventh annual “Bridging the Atlantic” conference. Her press counselor did not return an emailed follow up.

McEntee confirmed to the Irish Times that she discussed the issue with US trade ambassador Jamieson Grier. She stressed Ireland’s position that the regulations are designed to protect young people, according to the Times, which quoted her saying:

“I think there are certain elements of this that we don’t agree on. And for me it’s important that we engage on the areas we disagree on. I think what we all agree on is that, irrespective of whether someone is online or offline, they are protected. It’s about engaging and looking at how we can resolve those differences and I certainly think there is a view from the US that perhaps, you know, we could not deregulate. There is an element of red tape that could be removed and Ireland has been very clear that that’s something we want to see happen.”

During her Georgetown speech, McEntee said US challenges to Greenland’s sovereignty are “unacceptable.” Say said that any framing of Ireland having to decide between the US and EU is “rubbish.”

Ireland will hold the presidency of the Council of the European Union in the second half of this year. McEntee says Ireland has a strong committment to international law and believes in the United Nations.

“There is a risk of looking back with rose-tinted glasses to a past that never reallys existed,” McEntee said, echoing earlier conference panelists.

McEntee is a Fine Gael politician from Meath East. She was first elected in 2013, replacing her father in the constituency. She is also Ireland’s Minister of Defense, the first woman to hold the two ministerial roles.

McEntee said she met earlier today with members of Congress from both US parties on a variety of issues. Despite challenges to the US-Irish relationship, “more unites us than divides us,” she said.

New staff being added to Irish embassies in DC and throughout the US. “The St. Patrick’s Day program this year will be the most ambitious ever,” McEntee said.

“What once felt settled is being fundamentally tested,” she said. “I don’t take lightly the scale of what is going on around us. But our relationship will get us through any challenges.”

(An earlier version of this post incorrectly stated that Ireland would chair the UN Security Council later this year. That has been corrected to presidency of the Council of the European Union.)

Irish Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade Helen McEntee, TD.

***

Here is some of my live coverage from the conference panels.

Carolyn Gallagher and Kimberly Cowell-Meyers, both of American University, discuss Building a Green Wall: Irish America’s Resurgence Post-Brexit. Their 2025 book explores how Irish American interested lobbied to stop a hard border on the island of Ireland resulting from Brexit. Mary Murphy of Boston College says Sinn Fein’s efforts for united Ireland face strong headwinds in the US. Things are much different today compared to the Northern Ireland peace process of the 1990s or the post-Brexit border issue. … Ireland as a small state is also loosing agency on other issues in the disrupted international order, she said.

“The New Worlds of 21st Century Irish-America’ panel, left to right: moderator Liam Kennedy (University College Dublin); Carolyn Gallagher (American University); Kimberly Cowell-Meyers (American University); and Mary Murphy (Boston College).

***

Discussing United Irishmen and Young Ireland impacts in Ireland and the USA. … Many Irish in America was said to be members of radical and revolutionary groups in Ireland … but they really weren’t, Anbinder says.

The 1912 US election resulted in 43 Irish American congressmen, four Irish American US senators, four Irish American governors, and one Irish American president (Woodrow Wilson), according to Meagher. Only two of the congressmen were native born Irishmen, the rest were second generation Irish Americans. All were generally wary of getting involved in Irish politics. “Tammy Hall doesn’t pay a lot of attention to Irish nationalism,” Meagher said. That changed after the 1916 Rising.

Revolutionary Routes Across the Atlantic: 1776 and Beyond panel: left to right: Moderator Tyler Anbinder (George Washington University); Tim Meagher (Catholic University); Hannah Nolan (University of Maryland); and Chris Morash (Embassy of Ireland).

***

Cian T. McMahon, University of Nevada, Las Vegas, historian noted that most scholarship of the Irish in America is focused on the 19th and 20th century, not the 18th century. New York University historian Marion Casey said Ulster Scots were not the only Irish in colonial America, as typically portrayed. Members of British Army in the colonies included Irish from across the island. The US also was a convict dumping ground for the empire. “The 18th century cannot be pigeon holed as one thing,” Casey said.

McMahon said historians should focus on “stories,” plural, not a single “story” of the Irish in America. “I don’t think that’s what happening on the America 250 website,” he said, which is focused on “our American story,” singular. He said the US commemoration should not be about one national ideal, but a set of debates about multiple ideals.

“America250: American Lives, Irish Legacies” panel, left to right: Cian T. McMahon (University of Nevada, Las Vegas); Marion Casey (New York University); Darragh Gannon (Georgetown University); and moderator Caitríona Perry (BBC News).

***

In opening remarks, Cóilín Parsons, director of Georgetown’s Global Irish Studies program, noted this year’s conference will focus on the past more than contemporary issues. He acknowledged the US-Irish (and EU) relationship is currently “under duress.” That’s all the more reason for an honest exploration of the foundations of the relationship beyond “some gauzy dream of friendship.”

***

I’m at Georgetown University’s “Bridging the Atlantic VII” conference in Washinton, DC. This year’s event will explore 250 years of US-Irish relations. I am live blogging the event throughout the day. Email subscribers should check the website to see the updates. Here’s our coverage of last year’s event.