Showing posts with label Trade unions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trade unions. Show all posts

03 September 2025

The future of sculptures
by Epstein and Meadows
seems unclear as the TUC
sells off Congress House

Congress House on Great Russell Street, London, built in 1958, is being dold by the TUC (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Patrick Comerford

The future of two famous and favourite sculptures in Bloomsbury seems uncertain as the TUC (Trades Union Congress) moved to the final stages of selling off Congress House on Great Russell Street, close to the British Museum.

The TUC agreed last year to sell off Congress House after reports showed major work was needed if the building it was to keep up with environmental standards. The TUC is looking for a new modern home for the trade union movement.

The TUC appointed Newmark (formerly Gerard Eve) to manage the sale and a competitive tender process. Congress House was viewed 100 times and 10 bids from prospective buyers were narrowed down to three bids before he TUC has agreed on 28 June to prepare heads of agreement for a sale.

Already the basement and other storage spaces have been cleared, significant documents have been transferred to the TUC archives at Warwick, and a project is in hand to preserve the history of Congress House.

The sale of Congress House, a Grade II listed building with ca 138,000 sq ft across six floors, has also meant the closure of Congress Centre, a well-known London venue, on 4 July and redundancy negotiations with many staff members.

‘The Spirit of Brotherhood’ by Bernard Meadows at Congress House in London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Congress House has been the TUC headquarters since 1958, and Congress Centre appeared in popular television shows such as Killing Eve and Netflix’s The Crown.

David du Roi Aberdeen won an architectural competition to design the new TUC headquarters in Great Russell Street in 1948. Staff began to move into the offices in 1956. Congress House was officially opened on 27 March 1958 along with the unveiling of a giant pietà-style statue of a woman cradling her dead son. Carved in situ in the internal courtyard by Sir Jacob Epstein, it was commissioned as a memorial to trade unionists who had died in the two world wars.

Epstein had previously cast a bronze portrait of the TUC General Secretary Ernest Bevin, commissioned in 1943. Although he was invited by the TUC General Secretary to enter the competition he refused. But he agreed to take on a paid commission, and argued that he should be paid for his labour.

The Pietà sculpture by Jacob Epstein at Congress House (Photograph: Matt Brown / Wikipedia / CCL 2.0)

The scale of the installation means the final piece looks very different from the original model. It was described in a contemporary TUC internal document as ‘a memorial for the dead and an act of faith for the living’.

The front of the building is dominated by ‘The Spirit of Brotherhood’, a bronze sculpture by Bernard Meadows representing the spirit of trade unionism with the strong helping the weak. It was cast section by section by skilled craftsmen. It shows two semi-clad male figures, one standing over the other; one figure is sitting helpless on the ground while the other is stretching out to help him.

Bernard Meadows (1915-2005) was associated at an different stages in his career with Henry Moore, and was also part of the Geometry of Fear school, a loose-knit group of sculptors whose prominence was established at the 1952 Venice Biennale.

Meadows was born in Norwich in 1915, and educated at the City of Norwich School. After training as an accountant, he attended Norwich School of Art and in 1936 became Henry Moore's first assistant at his studio in Kent, and took part in the first Surrealist exhibition in London that year. He moved to Chalk Farm on 1937, assisting Moore in his studio at Hampstead, and he studied at the Royal College of Art and at the Courtauld Institute.

At the outbreak of World War II, Meadows registered as a conscientious objector. But when Nazi Germany invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, he withdrew his objection and was called up to the Royal Air Force.

After World War II, he returned to Moore’s studio and helped him with his marble sculpture ‘Three Standing Figures’ (1947) and his bronze ‘Family Group’ (1949). He found acclaims with an elm figure exhibited in the open air sculpture exhibition at Battersea Park in 1951, alongside the Festival of Britain, which went to the Tate Gallery.

Meadows exhibited in the British Pavilion at the Venice Biennale a year later, with Anthony Caro, Lynn Chadwick and Eduardo Paolozzi. Their angular styles, contrasted with the rounded work of Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth gave them the name of the ‘Geometry of Fear.’ His edgy pieces often based on animals and seemingly carved from shrapnel could imply Cold War menace.

His first solo exhibition was at Gimpel Fils in 1957, with four more in the decade to 1967, and he also exhibited at the Venice Biennale in 1964.

Meadows was a Professor of Sculpture at the Royal College of Art for 20 years, from 1960 to 1980. He returned to assist Henry Moore again at Perry Green, Hertfordshire, from 1977, after Moore’s health started to fail. After Moore died in 1986, he became an acting director of the Henry Moore Foundation. He died in London in 2005.

‘The Spirit of Brotherhood’ by Bernard Meadows at Congress House represents the spirit of trade unionism with the strong helping the weak (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Congress House was one of the earliest post-war buildings in Britain to be listed at Grade II*, in 1988. The design by the London-born architect David Du Roi Aberdeen was chosen because it was explicitly modern. He employed real craftsmen who had a great passion for their work and used eclectic materials. All the labourers and craftsmen on site had to be a member of a trade union to work there.

Congress House is a significant post-war building in Bloomsbury and one of the great physical testaments of the British labour movement. It was designed to be light and airy and very different from the pre-war 1930s architecture found in many public buildings.

The building was 14 years in the making, its existence mandated by a resolution passed in 1944 calling for a new centre of the organised workforce, a proud space that could not only honour the ‘supreme sacrifice’ trade unionists had made ‘in the successful prosecution of the war to overthrow the yoke of Nazi domination and the annihilation of the Nazi creed’, but also to encourage cultural development, training and participation among working people.

Its curved glass, lightness and open space resembles many of Le Corbusier’s unrealised design sketches. The wood was donated by fraternal unions from across the globe, while the street facings were shaped from Cornwall granite slabs as a gesture of solidarity with Cornish communities confronting souring economic prospects.

Much of the wood for the panelling was donated from trade unions and labour movements around the world, while the Cornish granite was sourced from a variety of quarries in order to help relieve unemployment in those areas.

All the construction work was completed and overseen by union members: even the Royal Horse Guards who were invited to perform a fanfare at the formal opening were made members of the Musicians’ Union for the occasion.

The end of Congress House is seen by many as a symbolic moment of selling off the family silver at a time where many unions are struggling to maintain relevance and the leading structures of the trade union movement seem to be losing their sense of direction.

The existence of the building was purely determined by union workers democratically mandating it, physically constructing it, aesthetically shaping it, and appealing to union workers from across the world for assistance in its realisation. Now it may soon fall into the hands of private developers, and no-one seems to be expressing concern for the future of the works by Epstein and Meadows.

What is the future for ‘The Spirit of Brotherhood’ by Bernard Meadows at Congress House? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

24 July 2025

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2025:
76, Thursday 24 July 2025

Looking with eyes and listening with ears … street art in Rathmines, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church and this week began with the Fifth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity V, 20 July 2025).

Before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.

‘Seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand’ (Matthew 13: 8) … street art in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2025)

Matthew 13: 10-17 (NRSVA):

10 Then the disciples came and asked him, ‘Why do you speak to them in parables?’ 11 He answered, ‘To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. 12 For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 13 The reason I speak to them in parables is that “seeing they do not perceive, and hearing they do not listen, nor do they understand.” 14 With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah that says:

“You will indeed listen, but never understand,
and you will indeed look, but never perceive.
15 For this people’s heart has grown dull,
and their ears are hard of hearing,
and they have shut their eyes;
so that they might not look with their eyes,
and listen with their ears,
and understand with their heart and turn –
and I would heal them.”

16 But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. 17 Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.’

‘They … listen with their ears, and understand with their heart and turn’ (Matthew 13: 15) … ‘Reflections of Bedford’, a sculpture by Rick Kirby on Silver Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

This morning’s reflection:

In the Gospel reading at the Eucharist yesterday (Matthew 13: 1-9), the quotation from Jesus began and ended with the word ‘Listen.’ In this morning’s reading, he speaks about those who seeing but do not perceive, who hearing but do not listen or understand.

Today’s reading continues from the Parables of the Kingdom and forms an interlude between the parable of the sower and its interpretation. Jesus is asked by the disciples why he speaks to the people in parables.

There seems to be an implication that Jesus is speaking clearly to his disciples, who are insiders, but in riddles to the people because they are outsiders. But this also seem to contradict the purpose of speaking in parables, which is to use helpful and familiar images to lead people to a better understanding of a deeper message. Indeed, the parable of the sower is a good example.

Perhaps once again we are dealing with the difference between ‘insiders’ and ‘outsiders’. The ‘insiders’ are those who give Jesus a ready hearing. Naturally, they are more open to hearing about the ‘mysteries’ of the Kingdom and to assimilating what they hear. The ‘outsiders’, on the other hand, are precisely so because they have closed minds and are not ready to listen.

Speaking of the ‘insiders’, Jesus says: ‘For to those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance, but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away’ (verse 12). Those who have opened themselves to the Word of God will find themselves evermore enriched.

But le those who have not even begun to accept the Word will end up in an even worse predicament than the one they are in now, for they look but do not see, they listen but do not hear or understand (verse 13).

This happens, not because the parables are difficult, but because the hearers are not prepared to listen.

Jesus then quotes from the Prophet Isaiah (9: 13), who might better understood as speaking in an audibly sarcastic tone:

“You will indeed listen, but never understand,
and you will indeed look, but never perceive.
15 For this people’s heart has grown dull,
and their ears are hard of hearing,
and they have shut their eyes;
so that they might not look with their eyes,
and listen with their ears,
and understand with their heart and turn –
and I would heal them.”

I find it disturbing when I realise someone is talking at me rather than to ne, and certainly not talking with me. In a similar way it is disturbing to realise someone hears me, but is not actually listening to me.

At one stage during tense trade union negotiations many years ago, the employer’s representative responded to my presentation, saying: ‘I hear what you are saying.’

I retorted: ‘Yes, but does it just go in one ear and out the other?’

I asked for an adjournment, and from the union side we said we would return to the talks when he indicated he would not only listen to us, but engage with us and comit his side to meaningful discussions. We waited outside for 10 or 15 minutes, and felt we truly were outsiders. We were about to leave the building when we were called back inside. He had heard, and he had listened, and instead of talking to and and at us, he began to talk with us. Confidence was restored, and we soon reached a settlement.

If we are prepared to see and to listen acitvely and to be fully engaged, both actions can make radical changes in our lives, in our attitudes, in our values and priorities, in our relationships. But too many people remain effectively blind and deaf.

‘Lord God, we pray for the House of the Epiphany, bless its mission in training clergy and laity’ (USPG Prayer Diary, 24 July 2025) … the House of the Epiphany, Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 24 July 2025):

The theme this week (20 to 26 July) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Diversity in Sarawak’ (pp 20-21). I introduced this theme on Sunday with reflections from Sarawak and the Diocese of Kuching.

The USPG prayer diary today (Thursday 24 July 2025) invites us to pray:

Lord God, we pray for the House of the Epiphany, bless its mission in training clergy and laity. We pray too for diocesan schools, including Saint Thomas’s and Saint Mary’s in Kuching.

The Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
by whose Spirit the whole body of the Church
is governed and sanctified:
hear our prayer which we offer for all your faithful people,
that in their vocation and ministry
they may serve you in holiness and truth
to the glory of your name;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

Grant, O Lord, we beseech you,
that the course of this world may be so peaceably ordered
by your governance,
that your Church may joyfully serve you in all godly quietness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Additional Collect:

Almighty God,
send down upon your Church
the riches of your Spirit,
and kindle in all who minister the gospel
your countless gifts of grace;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect on the Eve of James:

Merciful God,
whose holy apostle Saint James,
leaving his father and all that he had,
was obedient to the calling of your Son Jesus Christ
and followed him even to death:
help us, forsaking the false attractions of the world,
to be ready at all times to answer your call without delay;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Yesterday’s reflection

Continued tomorrow

‘Lord God, we pray for … diocesan schools, including Saint Thomas’s and Saint Mary’s in Kuching’ (USPG Prayer Diary, 24 July 2025) … Saint Mary’s School, Kuching (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

28 December 2024

Coming to terms with
memories of my father,
Stephen Comerford,
20 years after he died

Stephen Edward Comerford (1918-2004) died 20 years ago in December 2004 (Photograph: Comerford family collection)

Patrick Comerford

When death comes at Christmas-tide to a family it has a searing impact that can never be erased or forgotten. The death of my eldest brother, Stephen Comerford, at the age of 24, 54 years ago, just a week before Christmas on 18 December 1970, had an emotional impact on my parents that I can never forget. They had celebated their 25th wedding anniversary just three months earlier.

Steve’s death came just four days after my father’s 52nd birthday, which may have compounded my parents’ grief.

This week has also marked the 20th anniversary of the death of my father, Stephen Edward Comerford (1918-2004), who died shortly after Christmas 20 years ago.

My father was born on 14 December 1918 at 7 Swanville Place, Rathmines, a neat end-of-terrace house off Lower Rathmines Road, behind the Stella Cinema and close to Leinster Square, Leinster Road and Rathmines Town Hall.

Stephen was the youngest in a large family, with a half-sister and two half-brothers (one already deceased) and two older brothers and an older sister. He was named Stephen both because he was born so close to Christmas Day and Saint Stephen’s Day (26 September) and also after his father, Stephen Edward Comerford (1867-1921).

Stephen Edward Comerford was born on 14 December 1918 at 7 Swanville Terrace, Rathmines (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

My grandfather was also born close to Christmas Day and Saint Stephen’s Day, on 28 December 1867, at 7 Redmond’s Hill, between Camden Street, Wexford Street and Aungier Street, Dublin, and he was baptised soon after in Saint Andrew’s Church. Later, he lived on Upper Beechwood Avenue and at Old Mountpleasant in Ranelagh, before moving to Rathmines.

My grandfather was in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers during World War I, but was sent home in May 1916 – in the days immediately after the Easter Rising in Dublin – after contracting malaria in Thessaloniki. That malaria eventually killed him, and he died shortly after my father’s second birthday, on 21 January 1921.

My father grew up without any real memories of his own father, and spent his childhood years first in Rathmines and then in Ashdale Park, Terenure. As he was growing up, he was close to both his mother’s family, the Lynders family in Portrane, north Co Dublin, and to his Comerford cousins in the Clanbrassil Street and ‘Little Jerusalem’ area of Dublin, between Clanbrassil Street and Camden Street.

2 Old Mountpleasant, Ranelagh, where my grandfather lived before moving to Rathmines (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

He went to school in Dublin, and throughout his childhood days was familiar with the narrow streets of ‘Little Jerusalem’. There his childhood friends included the Levitas brothers, who lived on Longwood Avenue and Warren Street in Portobello, and whose family attended the Lennox Street synagogue, one of the many small synagogues in the area.

One Saturday evening in the mid-1920s, the synagogue almost went up in smoke. It was not, however, attempted arson. Four boys had been anxious to bring the Sabbath to a speedy conclusion in order to resume playing on the street. So they came back into the synagogue to hastily say the final prayers, and accidentally knocked over a candle that set a cloth alight. Fortunately, it was quickly extinguished. The ‘culprits’ were three brothers – Max, Maurice and Sol Levitas – and Chaim Herzog. The Levitas brothers later became heroes of the Battle of Cable Street in the East End of London in 1936; the fourth boy was Chaim Herzog – the Chief Rabbi’s son and a future President of Israel.

Other childhood and school friends and contemporaries who he shared memories of with me included Dr Kevin O’Flanagan (191-2006) who played both rugby and soccer for Ireland, Johnny Carey (1919-1995), also an Irish international footballer, the actor Jack MacGowran (1918-1973), the writer Cornelius Ryan (1920-1974), former Taoiseach Liam Cosgrave (1920-2017), and the RAF flying ace and war hero Paddy Finnucane (1920-1942).

During those schooldays, my father also travelled by boat to Italy, in what turned out to be a lengthy odyssey for the Boy Scouts he was part of, and in adulthood he continued to recall how the ship had passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and stopped off in Spain.

When he left school, he began a career in the insurance sector with the London and Lancashire, first working as an insurance clerk at the London and Lancashire office on College Green, Dublin. In those years immediately prior to the outbreak of World War II, he also become actively involved in An Óige, the Irish Youth Hostel Association, founded in 1931 by Thekla Beere, Shane Bodkin and Terry Trench.

The founders of An Óige were inspired by the success of the Youth Hostel Association in England, founded the previous year, and the Jugendherbergen in Germany, and were motivated by inter-war efforts to promote peace among young people on these islands and in Germany. My father had a particular interest in An Óige’s early youth hostels at Lough Dan, near Roundwood, and in Glencree, Co Wicklow. He was also a keen rugby player.

At the outbreak of World War II, the 11 Cavalry Squadron LDF (Local Defence Forces), later the 11 Cavalry (FCA) Regiment, was formed, with Captain JN Farrell forming a Cyclist Squadron based in McKee Barracks with of cyclists from Dublin clubs. Shortly after, my father joinned the 42nd (An Oige) Cyclist Squadron when it was formed. It was led by Aidan Pender, later editor of the Evening Herald and the Irish Independent, and alongside my father the other members included his childhood friend George Kerr, a journalist and later assistant news editor of the Irish Press, Brendan O’Shea, Sean O’Briain, Jim Dillon and Stan O’Grady.

Some of these men had been friends and neighbours since schooldays, many remained lifelong friends, and George Kerr became my ‘uncle’ and ‘foster father’. Their regimental symbol was Pegasus, and a Pegasus trophy remained on my father’s sideboard for many years.

At the end of World War II, all members of the LDF became the new Forsa Cosanta Aituil (FCA), and the new 11 Cyclist Regiment was renamed the 11 Cavalry Regiment FCA. Many of the 11 Cyclists were commissioned almost immediately, and the FCA was integrated into the regular army structures. Stephen was promoted but turned down the offer of a full-time army commission, and continued to work in the insurance sector. In the days immediately after the war, he and my mother Ellen (Murphy), a civil servant from Millstreet, Co Cork, were married in Blackrock, Co Dublin, on 8 September 1945. They had met while she was staying in a bed-sit in the home of his half-brother Arthur Comerford on Rathgar Road.

They first lived on Putland Road, Bray, but spent much of their life in houses on Lower Kimmage Road in Harold’s Cross, and in Rathfarnham Wood, and were the parents of six children. At one time in 1950, he drove to Rome with a group of friends – I think they included George Kerr, his first cousin Patrick ‘Sonny’ Linders, and (perhaps), his brother-in-law Michael Murphy – stopping along the way in Paris, Milan, Bologna and Florence.

Back in Dublin, he continued to work with London and Lancashire, specialising in fire insurance, and becoming an insurance surveyor. London and Lancashire merged in 1960 with Royal Insurance, Britain’s largest insurance group, which became a takeover by Royal Insurance in 1962, and now part of Royal Sun Alliance. His work took him throughout Ireland and regularly to London and Liverpool.

He was also an active trade unionist, becoming a branch chair in the Guild of Insurance Officials (GIO), a union founded in 1919 – both his father and grandfather before him had also been active trade unionists. The union affiliated to the Trades Union Congress (TUC) and the Confederation of Insurance Trade Unions, and became the Union of Insurance Staffs in 1969. The following year, it merged with the Association of Scientific, Technical and Management Staffs (ASTMS), and after various mergers and amalgamations was absorbed into Unite.

His colleagues when he was a union activist in the 1960s included Noel Harris, who was also active in the Irish Anti-Apartheid Movement and who died in 2014; and Clive Jenkins (1926-1999), who once described his recreation in Who’s Who as ‘organising the middle classes’ and who was instrumental in getting Neil Kinnock nominated to the leadership of the Labour Party.

There were union conferences in seaside towns like Scarborough, Blackpool, Skegnesss or Brighton, and on one union or business trip to England he brought me back my first transistor radio so I could listen to Radio Caroline and Radio Luxembourg. Little could I, his union colleagues or his friends have imagined how my father’s political views would take a different direction in his later years.

He took advantage of his office locations on College Green and Dame Street to give the children in his family prime viewing positions for the Saint Patrick’s Day Parade in Dublin. Family holidays during summer months involved what seemed like long weeks in Kilcoole, Bettystown and Termonfeckin, on the east coast and close to golf courses – rugby had given way to a passion for golf, and he was active in the Castle Golf Club in Rathfarnham, where he seemed to spend much of his weekends and where he always seemed to win a turkey each Christmas.

My brother Steve and I joked that he had chosen to send us to school in Gormanston in the hope that as adults we would play golf with him – neither of us did. He tried to encourage me to play rugby, and I have memories of him teaching me to row on Lough Ramor in Virginia in 1967. That summer he listened with pride to broadcasts during the Six-Day War featuring his childhood friend Chaim Herzog, who was just two months older than him.

He passed on his enthusiasm for youth hostelling, and I hitch-hiked throughout England Ireland in my late teens. He never managed to persuade me to join the scouts or the FCA, but his GIO was the first union I joined after I left school. I remained an active and committed union member all my working life, in the National Union of Journalists and then the Irish Federation of University Teachers.

Former colleagues told me he paid the price for his union activism when he was denied opportunities for promotion and advancing his career. He was an insurance surveyor with Royal Insurance until he took early retirement at the age of 55 in 1974. But he continued to work as a surveyor with Donal O Buachalla and Company on Merrion Square, Dublin, where he became a director and the company secretary.

Stephen Comerford was a surveyor with Donal O Buachalla and Company on Merrion Square, Dublin, and the company secretary (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

He encouraged me to train as a chartered surveyor – although those hopes produced as much fruit as his hopes that I might play golf with him. My relationship with him as a child and as a teenager were difficult and usually fraught, though perhaps I was less than kind when I wrote about these memories a few years ago.

His boyhood voyage by ship through the Mediterranean may have given him a lifelong love of travel, visiting France, Spain, Portugal, Croatia and the US, though I failed to persuade him to visit Greece with me. He found it difficult to understand why I never continued as a chartered surveyor and instead became a journalist, first with the Wexford People and then with The Irish Times. Although his close friends George Kerr and Aidan Pender and other members of his family were journalists too, he regarded journalism as too ‘arty’. He never acknowledged my successes in The Irish Times, even when I was appointed Foreign Desk Editor, and he would constantly ask when I was ever going to get a ‘real day job’.

In a similar vein, he was critical of my high-profile involvement in the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament in the 1980s, although that may have been where his sympathies lay in the late 1950s or early 1960s. It was hurtful that he never came to my graduations, conferrings or book launches, or to milestone family events. In his final days, there was one glint of acknowledgement when I shared with him my research on Comerford family history and genealogy, and his family gathered to celebrate my parents 50th wedding anniversary in their home in Rathfarnham in 1995.

Many years later, the Royal Insurance building on College Green was acquired by Trinity College Dublin, and in my academic career I had mixed emotions when it came to attending MTh course management meetings in what probably were his offices 40 or 50 years earlier.

Stephen Edward Comerford died suddenly at the age of 86 from a rupture of an abdominal aortic aneurism at his home in Rathfarnham Wood this week 20 years ago, a few days after spending Christmas 2004 in Cork. He is buried in Bohernabreena Cemetery, Co Dublin.

His gravestone says he died on 27 December 2004, but his death notice in The Irish Times says he died on 28 December 2004 – 137 years to the day since the birth of his own father in 1867. He never knew his own father, and 20 years later I wonder whether I really knew him.

My father spent his teenage and early adult years in Ashdale Park, Terenure (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

10 May 2024

Nuffield College and
the embarrassment
of Lord Nuffield’s
lifelong antisemitism

Nuffield College, Oxford, owes its name and endowments to the indistrialist William Morris, Lord Nuffield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

Oxford University is in the process of confronting the legacy it has inherited that are rooted in slavery, racism and colonialism.

The ‘Rhodes Must Fall’ protests have raised questions about the continuing presence of the statue of Cecil Rhodes looking down on the High Street, with many calls for its removal. It has become a focus for public debate on racism and the legacy of colonialism. In response, Oriel College has placed a small notice below his statue on the Rhodes Building, explaining that his statue is controversial and that the college is addressing this.

For three centuries or more, the library at All Souls College was known as Codrington Library. But in 2020, All Souls College decided to stop using that name to make plain its abhorrence of slavery.

Nuffield College is a small postgraduate college specialising in the social sciences (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

However, with the frightening rise in antisemitism, perhaps Nuffield College also needs to critically examine its legacy and the way it continues to honour William Morris (1877-1963), Lord Nuffield, and to address his Nazi sympathies and his vociferous and vile lifelong antisemitism.

Nuffield College is a small postgraduate college, specialising in the social sciences. The new Porters’ Lodge at the large Worcester Street gates and main entrance opened last Friday (3 May). This was the main entrance location planned by the architect Austen Harrison in the original designs for Nuffield College, and the previous entrance at New Road has been closed.

Nuffield College owes its name to its founder, William Richard Morris (1887-1963), first Viscount Nuffield. The college website portrays him as a benevolent industrialist and ‘one of Britain's greatest philanthropists.’ He founded the Nuffield Foundation and the Nuffield Trust and bestowed his largesse on Oxford, giving away millions to worthy causes.

Morris once declared: ‘I can only promise you this, that for the rest of my life I will do my best for mankind.’ But it was a hollow promise, for Morris was a pro-Hitler Nazi sympathiser and was once the leading financier of far-right politics in pre-war Britain, and also an oppressive and cruel employer.

The college website labels him ‘the British Henry Ford.’ The website misses the irony in this, for Henry Ford was a virulent racist and clung to his antisemitic views throughout his life, and used his vast resources and influence in a sustained campaign to spread bigotry and conspiracy thinking. Ford refused to employ Jews in white-collar jobs, and he was a supporter of various antisemitic organisations, including the Ku Klux Klan.

So I find it baffling, to put it mildly, that Nuffield, who was a Nazi sympathiser and an antisemitic racist, is still apparently feted uncritically in Oxford.

Nuffield helped the Radcliffe Hospital to purchase the Radcliffe Observatory site (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Morris always managed to maintain a veneer of social respectably and he became Sir William Morris in 1929 when he was given the title of baronet. But by then his fascist sympathies were known publicly and he played a central role in the growth of fascism in pre-war Britain in the 1930s

He became a bankroller of extremist politics in 1930, when he donated £50,000 – the equivalent of £3 million today – to Oswald Mosley’s New Party, later the British Union of Fascists.

Mosley’s blackshirts wanted a Britain that was exclusively for people of ‘British Birth and Parentage,’ and advocated collaboration with Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany. He described William Morris as his ‘chief backer’. In 1932, Morris gave Mosley another £35,000 – £2 million today – to set up Action, the blackshirt ‘newspaper’.

Action was violently antisemitic, speaking of the ‘filthy, obscene Jewish Communists.’ It wanted to deprive Jews of the vote and advocated ‘holding them under restraint’ to protect native Britons. It claimed Jews controlled the ‘financial democracy’ of the world, oppressed hard-working Britons and stole their money for their own kind. It accused Jews of seeking to ‘destroy Christianity’ while using their control of the media to divert eyes elsewhere.

Action also defended the Nazi treatment of Jews, describing it as ‘mild’ and ‘justified’ and claiming it was far less harsh than the treatment of Catholics in other parts of Europe.

As public opinion turned against fascism, Morris became more subtle in his support for the far-right, and his veneer of social respectability was enhanced in 1934 when he was given a peerage with the title Baron Nuffield.

Although Nuffield stopped funding Mosley directly, for many more years he retained his subscription to antisemitic newspapers, including the Duke of Northumberland’s anti-Jewish newspaper The Patriot. He became a leading figure in the Anglo-German Fellowship, was founded in 1935 to enabled aristocrats and bankers to build bridges with Nazi Germany. The guests at their dinners included Nazis such as Heinrich Himmler, Joachim von Ribbentrop and Rudolf Hess, and leading members were guests at the Nuremberg rally in 1936.

Mosley’s blackshirts were actively organising violent attacks on Jews on the streets of London, and this reached a climax with the Battle of Cable Street in the East End of London on 4 October 1936.

Nuffield was a leading advocate of appeasement when he was advanced or promoted in the peerage by Neville Chamberlain in 1938 with the additional title of Viscount Nuffield.

During World War II, Morris was involved in the National Front After Victory, a far-right organisation later known as the National Front. Despite the defeat of the Nazis and Fascists in World War II, Morris clung to his extremist beliefs. He wrote in his diary, ‘It is a well-known fact that every government in my England is Jew controlled regardless of the party in power.’

The Morris Garages site on Longwall Street site was redeveloped in 1980 and is now student accommodation for New College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Admittedly, Morris donated generously to the university, helping to fund Nuffield College, donating generously to Saint Peter’s Hall which became Saint Peter’s College, endowing four medical professorships in the university, setting up the Oxford Medical School, and helping the Radcliffe Hospital to acquire the Radcliffe Observatory site.

But he amassed his wealth through his Oxford factories, where workers endured poor conditions and low wages. When his workers organised against the appalling conditions and low wages in his factories, Morris threatened to fire anyone who joined a union.

The buildings Morris first acquired in Longwall Street back in 1902 became the Oxford Garage and later the Morris Garages in 1910. The Longwall Street site was redeveloped in 1980, retaining the original frontage, and is now used as student accommodation by New College.

However, while the Longwall Street site of the Morris Garage lauds Nuffield’s achievements in the motor industry, I could see nothing referring to his ugly antisemitism, racism and bigotry.

I am not advocating that Nuffield College should change its name. But if Nuffield College or New College wanted to find someone else’s name to highlight and to start to bring some balance into the equation, I would suggest the name of Abe Lazarus (1911-1967), who led the first successful strike in a Morris factory in 1934.

Abraham Lazarus was born in London into a Jewish family. His mother was Irish and spent Abe’s early years nursing him through rheumatic fever. In his teens he became a Communist Party activist, but his trade union activities in Oxford were supported by local Labour Party activists too.

On the eleventh day of the strike at the Morris factories in 1934, the management agreed to raise wages and to recognise the unions. The victory of the striking Morris workers ushered in a wave of left-wing political activism across Oxford in the 1930s. The Labour Party saw a resurgence in Oxford, the Transport and General Workers’ Union saw an increase in members, and the Communist Party gained support among Morris factory workers.

Lazarus also helped to protect Oxford’s Jews from fascist intimidation in 1936 by organising crowds of students and workers to successfully disrupt a visiting Oswald Mosley the British Union of Fascists in Oxford during the ‘Battle of Carfax.’

Lazarus stood many times in the Cowley and Iffley ward in Oxford City Council elections, but was never elected. When he stood in Cowley in 1937, he was on a joint ticket with Frank Pakenham (1905-2001). He came close to winning the seat, and the election launched the political career of the future Lord Longford. Pakenham stood against Quintin Hogg in Oxford in 1945, but lost by almost 3,000 votes. That October, he was made a Labour life peer with the title of Baron Pakenham of Cowley in the City of Oxford. He later succeeded his brother as the Earl of Longford in 1961.

During his final years, Abe Lazarus worked as a librarian at the Bernal Peace Library. The modern office building the Labour Party and the Unite union share in Cowley is named Abe Lazarus House in his honour.

Shabbat Shalom

Would Abe Lazarus (1911-1967) be an appropriate figure to commemorate at Nuffield College? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

01 May 2024

The sculpture of Louis Tikas
in Rethymnon tells a May Day
story from Crete to Colorado

The bust of Louis Tikas (Elias Anastasios Spantidakis) at the entrance to the Marina in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

Patrick Comerford

This is May Day, and in Crete Easter is just days away. And I have a May Day story today from Rethymnon that links Crete, workers’ rights and struggles, and Easter.

The Marina in Rethymnon is lined with a number of impressive, modern sculptures. But in a discreet, shaded corner behind the Delfini building at the entrance to the Marina, almost facing the first apartment where I stayed in Rethymnon in the 1980s, is a bust of Louis Tikas (1884-1914), a trade union organiser who was murdered 110 years ago in the Ludlow Massacre in Colorado in April 1914.

Louis Tikas (Λούης Τίκας) was born Elias Anastasios Spantidakis (Ηλίας Αναστάσιος Σπαντιδάκης) on 13 March 1886 in Loutra, a small hillside village 8 km outside Rethymnon.

When he left Crete for America in 1906, his brother Kostis Spantidakis accompanied Louis to Rethymno by horse, and from there Louis took the boat to Piraeus. On his way home, Kostis was overwhelmed by premonitions of doom and, when he returned home, he told his wife, ‘Argyro, this man will one day either become a great man or he will end up destroying himself (θα φάει το κεφάλι του). And we will lose him.’

When he set foot on Ellis Island, he signed his first papers with a new name. By 1910, he was the part owner of a Greek coffeehouse in Denve,r Colorado, and filed for US citizenship. He then worked for a time as a miner in Colorado’s Northern coalfield, and ended up leading a walk-out by 63 fellow Greeks at the Frederick, Colorado mine.

Tikas was chased from the northern field, and was shot and wounded by Baldwin-Felts detectives as he escaped through the back door of a boarding house in Lafayette, Colorado, in January 1910.

Olive groves in Loutra, above Rethymnon, where Louis Tikas was born Elias Anastasios Spantidakis in 1886 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Due to the immense respect Tikas had gained among the miners, the United Mineworkers’ Union appointed him a union organiser in Trinidad, Colorado. By the end of 1912, he was an organiser for the United Mine Workers of America. By then, he was a good friend of Mother Jones and they worked together in the final months of 1913, when Tikas played a leading role in organising the Colorado miners when they went on strike.

The 14-month strike between September 1913 and December 1914 became known as the Colorado Coalfield War in southern Colorado,. It has been described as ‘the bloodiest civil insurrection in American history since the Civil War.’

Support for the strike was solid among the miners, many of them Greek. When the strike meant the miners and their families could no longer live in the mining company shacks, Tikas was to the forefront in organising camps where they could live.

In all, up to 20,000 strikers were evicted from the company towns that dotted the coal-rich Sangre de Christo region. Tikas and the union raised a number of tent cities, including the Ludlow Colony.

The camps were constantly attacked by the militia and the gunmen hired by the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, owned by John D Rockefeller jr. Tikas helped many miners and their families to escape from the Ludlow camp to the nearby hills. But by then he had become a marked man.

Following a tense day of Greek Orthodox Easter festivities, Tikas met Major Pat Hamrock (1860-1939), the leading and Irish-born militia officer, on the morning 20 April 1914 in response to allegations of a man being held against his will in the camp.

During Hamrock’s conversation with Tikas, the Greeks in the camp grew restless. The militia placed machineguns on the hills and Tikas, anticipating trouble, ran back to camp.

But fighting broke out and lasted all day. During the clash, a deserted tent burst into flames and, within a short time, more tents began to burn. At the same time, the militiamen overran and took command of the site. By 7 pm, the camp was aflame.

Tikas remained in the camp the entire day and was there when the fire started. Lieutenant Karl Linderfelt, a rival of Tikas during much of the strike, broke the butt of his gun over Tikas’s head. Tikas was later found shot to death, one bullet through his back, another in his hip, a third glancing off his hip and traveling vertically through his body.

The Ludlow Massacre on 20 April 1914 was the bloodiest event in the strike. During the massacre, 19 people were killed, including two women and 11 children and one National Guardsman. The day Louis Tikas was murdered, 20 April 1914, was ‘Bright Monday’, the day after Greek Orthodox Easter. He was just 28.

By early morning, 21 April1914, a site once covered by hundreds of tents was nothing more than the charred rubble remains of the tents. The bodies of two women and 11 children were found huddled together in a cellar. Five strikers, two other children, and at least four men associated with the militia also died.

Sporadic violence continued for days after, and more people died in battles at a number of coal camps. Federal troops moved into southern Colorado in late April. However, the strike continued until early December, and came to an end without resolution.

The Ludlow Monument, erected by the United Mine Workers of America some years after the massacre, stands near the site to commemorate the dead strikers and their families.

The inscription beneath the statue of Louis Tikas (Elias Anastasios Spantidakis) at the entrance to the Marina in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2024)

But the strikers had not suffered in vain. His memorial in Rethymnon recalls that the heroic death of Louis Tikas, the strike and the violence encouraged state and federal legislators to pass laws ‘protecting the rights, dignity and respect of the working class.’

The young man has become a Greek-American legend and a national labour icon, inspiring songs of defiance, remembrance, and redemption. Both Tikas and Ludlow live on in the songs of Woody Guthrie. The bust of Louis Tikas at the Marina in Rethymnon was a gift ‘to the land of his birth’ from members of the Pancretan Association of America in July 2009.

A statue of Louis Tikas was dedicated at the Miners’ Memorial on Mani Street in Trinidad, Colorado, on 23 June 2018.

A documentary film Palikari – Louis Tikas and the Ludlow Massacre, produced by Lamprini C Thoma and directed by Nichos Ventouras in 2014, tells his story, from Crete to Colorado.


Palikari – Louis Tikas and the Ludlow Massacre

11 April 2023

Bert Comerford (1915-2005),
a Northampton-born
trade unionist in the
boot and shoe industry

The former G Webb & Sons factory in Brockton Street, Northampton … three generations of the Comerford family worked in the shoe industry in Northampton

Patrick Comerford

Herbert (Bert) Comerford (1915-2005) was a leading trade unionist in Britain throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Northampton was the leading city in the shoemaking industry and Bert was the third generation in a family that worked in the shoe and boot industry in Northampton.

Northampton and the county have a long history of shoemaking, dating back to the 12th century, when Northampton was a busy market town with a street of cordwainers or shoemakers. Northampton’s Shoemakers’ Guild was established in 1401.

Thomas Fuller, the Northamptonshire historian and churchman, wrote in 1660 that ‘the town of Northampton may be said to stand chiefly on other men’s legs the most cheapest, if not the best, boots … in England are to be bought in Northampton.’ Daniel Defoe wrote in 1725 of ‘Shoes from Northampton for all, the poorest countrymen and the master.’

Bert Comerford was born in Northampton on 3 November 1915, a son of Herbert Comerford (1886-1970) and Mabel Louisa Lambourne (1891-1982).

It is possible that this branch of the Comerford family may be traced back to Peter Comerford (1720-1773), who was born in Ireland and moved to Brockley Hill, Edgeware, in the mid-18th century.

Bert’s father, Herbert Comerford, was born in Camberwell, London, on 25 June 1886, a son of Joseph Comerford (1852-1897), also a boot maker, and Catherine (Kate) Miller (1853-1915), from Aspley Guise, Bedfordshire, who were married in the East End in Saint James the Great Church, Bethnal Green, on 7 August 1874.

Joseph and Kate Comerford were the parents of two daughters who were born in Hackney: Catherine and Clara Anne (1877-1965), who later married William Muddiman (18878-1942).

Joseph and Kate then moved to Northampton, where a son Joseph Comerford (1878-1958) was born in 1878.

They then seemed to have moved between Northampton and Newington, as Joseph Comerford continued to find work in the show industry, and they were the parents of four more children: Edward William Comerford (1880-1949), born in Newington on 25 May 1880; Thomas James Comerford (1884-1975), born in Northampton on 10 June 1884; Herbert (1886-1970), who was born in Camberwell in 25 June 1886; and Eliza Edith (1888-1933), who was born in Camberwell in 1888 and later married William Beal in Northampton in 1913.

Joseph and Kate Comerford eventually returned to live in Northampton, where they lived at 32 Wellington Street, and they were the parents of four more children: Elizabeth Miller (1890-1967), who was born on 4 August 1890 and married Frederick Stevens; Sarah Victoria (1893-1983) born 29 January 1893 and married William T Hollowell; George Albert Comerford (1895-1897), born 27 May 1897; and Lilly (1898-1899).

Joseph Comerford died in Northampton in 1897, when he was only 45 and his children were still young. His widow Kate later kept a boarding house at 84 Dunster Street, and died in Northampton in October 1915.

Their second son, Herbert Comerford, who was born in Camberwell in 1886, grew up in Alcombe Terrace and Dunster Street in Northampton, and followed his father into the boot-making trade. He married Mabel Louisa Lambourne in Northampton in April 1915.

Their elder son, Herbert Comerford, was born in November 1915. A younger son, Reginald Comerford, was born in Northampton on 10 February 1921.

Herbert, or Bert, Comerford, the future trade union leader, attended Kettering Road Intermediate School, and at the age of 15 followed his father and grandfather into the shoemaking trade. He first became a clicker in the shoemaking industry, working for G Webb & Sons at their factory in Brockton Street, Northampton.

The clickers became known as the elite or the ‘gentlemen’ of shoemakers. Their role involved cutting out the shoe uppers from the precious fine leathers using knives with very curved and sharply pointed blades. This highly skilled role became known as ‘clicking’ as the concentration required to carry out the task required silence – the only noise in the clicking room would be the click-click of blade piercing leather and the wooden cutting block underneath.

Bert married Ella Mary Everitt (1917-2011) in Northampton in January 1940. She was a daughter of George Everitt and Maud EE Bennett of Northampton.

Bert was in the British Army during World War II, but he returned to the shoemaking trade in Northampton in 1946. He was a long-term member of the National Union of Boot and Shoe Operatives (NUBSO) when he began working full-time for the union in 1959. In the 1960s, he was living at 10 Lea Road, Northampton.

He became the union’s assistant general officer in 1969. The union merged with other unions in 1970 to form the National Union of the Footwear, Leather and Allied Trades (NUFLAT), and Bert Comerford was elected as its first General President, the leading position in the union. The union sponsored Labour Party candidates in several parliamentary elections.

But the 1970s proved to be a difficult period for the footwear industry in Britain, and when he retired in 1980, Bert described how he regretted leaving while the decline continued. Today, however, Northampton and the county’s shoemaking industry thrives. The town is still recognised across the world for making high-quality men’s footwear which reinterprets classic styles for each new generation of discerning wearers.

Bert Comerford was made an OBE (Officer of the Order of the British Empire) in the 1981 New Year Honours list. In retirement, he served as an honorary member of the Clothing and Footwear Institute. He died in July 2005. His widow Ella died on 28 January 2011.

26 February 2022

My safe castle on High Street
has become a pink house facing
the Opera House in Wexford

The National Opera House (left) and No 18 High Street (the house in pink on the right) in Wexford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Patrick Comerford

It is almost 50 years since I moved to Wexford in 1972 and joined the staff of the People Group of Newspapers as a sub-editor.

At the time, I was trying to complete a BSc in Estate Management at Reading University with the support of Jones Lang Wootton. But I was getting greater satisfaction as a freelance journalist, contributing to the Lichfield Mercury, the Rugeley Mercury, the Tamworth Herald, the Kilkenny People and Horse and Hound, among others.

The Wexford People was the first newspaper to offer me a full-time job, and I worked there for the best part of three years, living first on School Street and then on High Street.

At No 18 High Street, Wexford, I had the whole top floor of the house – all two rooms – to myself (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

Living in a flat at No 18 High Street, Wexford, I had the whole top floor of the house – all two rooms – to myself, making me the envy of many of my former schoolfriends who found themselves in cramped ‘digs’ or squeezed into dingy one-room ‘bedsits.’

Wexford, like Lichfield, felt like home to me. My great-grandfather, James Comerford (1817-1902), and his brothers had lived, at different times, on John Street, which runs parallel to High Street, just a stone’s throw from that small flat, and on my paternal grandmother’s side of the family, my great uncle, John Lynders (1873-1957), had lived on South Main Street earlier in the 20th century.

Wexford was kind to me and warmly welcomed me. I quickly became integrated and assimilated into the life of the town and the county. No 18 faced onto the back entrance to the People workshop, so it seemed like I could roll down the stairs and roll into work each morning, and there was no long trek home after a late evening’s work.

Everything I needed, enjoyed and that could enrich me was within easy reach. Further along High Street at the time was the Theatre Royal, and during the Wexford Festival I often went to sleep to the sound of opera rehearsals. On other nights I fell asleep to the chimes and bells of Rowe Street Church.

Around the corner and down the end of Rowe Street on Main Street was Saint Iberius Church, the Church of Ireland parish church, where Canon Eddie Grant was the Rector, the Tower Bar, where I made many friends from all walks of life, and the Corish Memorial Hall, then the hub of trade union life and the Labour Party.

In White’s coffee shop in the mid-1970s, probably planning a poetry reading in the 1970s

I soon became involved in the Labour Party in the 1973 general election and the local elections the following year, in the trade union movement as a branch secretary in the National Union of Journalists (NUJ), and in church life, including the committee of the YMCA which served effectively as the parish hall, work parties in the Church of Ireland national school, speaking in a Lenten series in Killane and Killegney group of parishes organised by the late Canon Norman Ruddock, and preaching for the first time ever, in the Presbyterian Church on Anne Street and in the Presbyterian Church in Enniscorthy, both on the same Sunday.

I was involved in the arts, including poetry readings, folk sessions and art exhibitions with Billy Roche, later to become Wexford’s celebrated playwright, in the local rugby club, Wexford Wanderers, editing a local monthly, What’s On In Wexford, commissioned by the Junior Chamber, and had pen-and-ink illustrations published in local magazines, including Ireland’s Own.

It was a time to develop and tune my gifts in writing, my appreciation of the arts, and my understanding of the world; it was a time to make lasting friendships; it was a time of growth and maturing, a time to develop and enhance my own values, socially, politically, religiously and spiritually; and it was a time to deepen a sense of identity with the part of Ireland where I had deep family roots.

I was back in Wexford this week, not so much to recover those memories and joys as to say thank you for them and to reaffirm – after half a century – that they are deeply embedded in my self-understanding and my self-awareness.

After lunch in the Ferrycarrig Hotel, looking out onto the estuary of the River Slaney as it flows into the sea at Wexford Harbour, I walked along the Main Street, past the YMCA, the former site of White’s coffee shop, through the Bullring, past Saint Iberius Church, the premises where the Tower Bar and the Corish Memorial Hall once stood, past the former People office, stopping to browse in the book shops, and on down into South Main Street and to the former Dun Mhuire Theatre, once the RIC station where my Great-Uncle John Lynders once lived.

Later in the afternoon, I walked along the Quays and the Crescent, recalling the ‘woodenworks,’ the lost Guillemot and ‘South Station,’ and pennies childishly thrown on the railway line to be squeezed and squashed by trains destined for Rosslare.

The Crescent in Wexford in late February, early Spring sunshine (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

In the side streets and narrow lanes off Main Street, I found the churchyards of the former mediaeval parish churches, Saint Mary’s and Saint Patrick’s, and then I was back into High Street, where I was so happy 50 years ago. It was my own safe castle.

No 18 was sold again some years ago, and has been turned back into a single-unit family home. The house has been ‘prettified’ and painted pink, and now looks charming in the early Spring sunshine of late February.

When I moved to Wexford in the early 1970s, I was told about ‘the narrow streets and proud people.’ The Theatre Royal moved many years ago, and across the narrow street from No 18, the former People printworks have become the National Opera House.

I climbed the stairs to the top floor for afternoon coffee, and soaked in the view from the balcony across the town and the harbour, out to Begerin Island and the Wexford Slobs. From the balcony outside the coffee shop, looking down on the roofs of Wexford, I could see my old office where the People editorial team and sub-editors had worked.

Happy memories were rekindled of old colleagues, including Gerry Breen, who died a few weeks ago, Nicky Furlong and Hilary Murphy who both joined me for dinner in Ferrycarrig during another recent visit to Wexford, Phil Murphy, Tony O’Brien, Frank Murphy, Gene Yore, Johnny Roche and the late Eddie O’Keeffe. There were so many others too.

A painting by Neil Shawcross of the Penguin paperback cover of ‘The Castle’ by Franz Kafka in the National Opera House, Wexford … now part of a tribute to the late Mairead Furlong (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

On the way back down the stairs, my eyes were caught by the collection of paintings by Neil Shawcross of Penguin paperback covers, especially – of course – The Castle by Franz Kafka.

The Neil Shawcross bequest of paintings to the Wexford Festival Trust was in recognition of the contribution to the arts over a lifetime by the late Mairead Furlong. I never got to see Nicky on this visit. But I still felt I could pay tributes to the mentors of half a century ago.

The People titles when I worked in Wexford included the Wexford People, the Enniscorthy Guardian, the New Ross Standard, the Gorey Guardian, the Wicklow People and the Bray People. The skills I learned there have their fruits today in my writings and in my blog postings.

Looking down on my former office in the Wexford People from the balcony at the coffee shop in the National Opera House (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2022)

10 July 2021

The Castletownbere church
linked with miners’ strikes
and the Gaelic revival

Saint Peter’s Church, Castletownbere, Co Cork, built in the 1840s and rebuilt in the early 1860s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)

Patrick Comerford

During our visit to Castletownbere, Co Cork, on last month’s road trip or ‘staycation’ in West Cork and Co Kerry, two of us visited the Church of the Sacred Heart, the Roman Catholic parish church, and Saint Peter's Church, the former Church of Ireland parish church.

Saint Peter’s Church was built in 1841 to replace Killaconenagh Church, which was 2 km outside the town.

Killaconenagh Church had been built in 1812 on the site of an earlier, medieval parish church The early 19th century church was described by Samuel Lewis in his Topographical Dictionary 1837 as ‘a small neat edifice, with a low square tower, towards the erection of which the late Board of First Fruits granted a loan of £500.’

However, it was abandoned within three decades of being built and shortly after Lewis provided his description when Saint Peter’s Church was built in 1841. The new church, on a more convenient site in the centre of the new town, was consecrated in July or August 1841, and was enlarged later and substantially rebuilt ca 1860.

The 1860s Gothic Revival style church incorporates earlier fabric. This was a fine church, exhibiting the high-quality craftsmanship that marks many parish churches in the Church of Ireland built in the 19th century. The coherent Gothic Revival style decorative scheme includes finely carved limestone finials, a bellcote and the window surrounds.

Although we did not get inside the former church during our visit, I understand the timber detailing exhibits sophisticated and highly skilled carpentry.

The features I could appreciate on an all-too-brief afternoon visit include the gabled entrance porch, gabled chancel and a gabled vestry extension, a cut limestone bellcote, pointed arch windows and doors, and carved limestone finials.

The church also had leaded stained-glass windows, timber battened doors, a carved timber king-post roof, a reredos, choir, decorative floor tiles, a carved marble pulpit and a baptism font to interior.

Saint Peter’s Church is now owned by a local community development association (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)

In a recent paper, Dr Miriam Moffitt told the hidden story behind the dismissal of the curate in the parish of Berehaven over 150 years ago.

Two printed addresses offering support for the Revd George Frederick Stoney (1826-1869) were published within the space of 18 months in the Church of Ireland Gazette when he left the parish in March 1868, and a third followed his death in September 1869.

Two addresses presented to George Stoney were published in the Irish Ecclesiastical Gazette (as it was then known) on 23 April 1868, one from a local Roman Catholic curate, while the third address was published on 22 September 1869 from ‘The Loyal Orangemen of Shercock.’

George Stoney was dismissed as the curate in Berehaven in March 1868 and returned to ministry in his former parish in Ballyjamesduff, Co Cavan, until his death 17 months later.

While he was in Beara, Stoney ministered at the chapel-of-ease at Allihies, where the population was mainly mining families from the nearby copper mines. Saint Peter’s Parish Church was in the town of Berehaven, now Castletownbere; Berehaven Miners’ Church, also known as Kilnamanagh Church, was about 18 km further west.

The copper mines at Allihies were owned by Berehaven’s leading landowner, Henry Edmund Lavallin Puxley of Dunboy Castle. The mines, in operation from 1812, attracted an influx of Cornish miners. After a miners’ strike in 1864, changes introduced by a new manager and a sharp fall in the price of copper led to drastic cuts in the workforce.

Although there was an attempt to replace some Irish workers with English workers, most of the miners were Roman Catholics from Beara. There were frequent allegations that better positions were awarded to English workers and that the Irish miners were exploited and living in squalid conditions. In a letter published in the Cork Examiner on 4 March 1868, Stoney detailed the ‘real agonising poverty of the people.’

In a letter in The Nation on 16 May 1868, Stoney was even more direct in his criticism of the mine-owner and his description of the miners’ living conditions. The Rector of Berehaven, the Revd John Halahan (1823-1920), was also Puxley’s father-in-law, and George Stoney was dismissed. Stoney’s entry in the preachers’ book reveals that he was prevented from delivering a farewell sermon.

Halahan had been the curate of Berehaven in 1846-1862, and then Rector in 1862-1918 and was also Dean of Saint Fachtna’s Cathedral, Rosscarbery (1905-1918), a total of 72 years in ministry in Berehaven. He is said to have been the inspiration for the character of Daphne du Maurier’s Hungry Hill. He died in Bantry on 28 September 1920, and was buried in Saint Finian’s Old Burial Ground, North Road, Castletownbere.

Halahan’s predecessor as Rector of Berehaven, the Revd Thomas O’Grady, was a scholarly priest and the father of Standish James O’Grady (1846-1928), author, journalist and historian. O’Grady played a formative role in the Celtic Revival, publishing the tales of Irish mythology, as the History of Ireland: Heroic Period (1878), comparing the Gaelic tradition with the tales of Homeric Greece.

He also worked as a journalist for the Daily Express of Dublin, contributed to James Larkin’s The Irish Worker, and was the editor of the Kilkenny Moderator. In Kilkenny, he was involved with Ellen Odette Cuffe (1857-1933), Countess of Desart, and her brother-in-law, Captain Otway Frederick Seymour Cuffe (1853-1912), a former Mayor of Kilkenny, in the revival of local woollen and woodworking industries.

Standish O’Grady was a paradox for his times, proud of his Gaelic heritage, a champion of aristocratic virtues and an advocate of a revitalised Irish people taking over the British Empire and renaming it the Anglo-Irish Empire.

Lady Gregory, WB Yeats and George William Russell, all associated with the Abbey Theatre, attributed their interest in the Fenian Cycle of Gaelic tradition in part to O’Grady, and this led to him being known as the ‘Father of the Celtic Revival.’

Standish O’Grady’s childhood home, the Glebe, is about 2 km west of Castletownbere near a famine mass grave. His eldest son and biographer, Hugh Art O’Grady, was the editor of the Cork Free Press and later a professor in the Transvaal University College, Pretoria, later the University of Pretoria.

There was a full-time Church of Ireland priest in Castletownbere until shortly after World War II. Saint Peter’s Church is now owned by a local community development association. The Southern Star reported in 2018 that the church had been bought after five years of negotiations.

Saint Peter’s is a listed building, and the churchyard is the only green space in the town, providing a safe place for children to play.

The churchyard is the only green space in the town, providing a safe place for children to play (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2021)