From an early RNS story–The Roman Catholic archbishop of Dublin, regarded as among the most influential church leaders in England and Ireland, has added his voice to those calling for an urgent inquiry into the discovery of nearly 800 babies and children buried in a septic tank at Tuam, a home for unwed mothers in western Ireland.
The scandal is just the latest among many to come to light involving the suffering of children in Ireland’s history, and it may be among the factors that have contributed to a big fall in church attendance in recent years.
“If a public or state inquiry is not established into outstanding issues of concern surrounding the mother-and-baby homes, then it is important that a social history project be undertaken to get an accurate picture of these homes in our country’s history,” said Archbishop Diarmuid Martin.
Read it all. But please see this important article which came out later: Tuam mother and baby home: the trouble with the septic tank story.
I suppose that in the rush to condemn of the moment any voice calling for hesitation risks sounding uncaring. But I would call for a pause with this story and say that I am surprised, even startled, that it comes from the pen of Ruth Gledhill. I want to point out just three things:
1) the core of the story is from the research of a local historian; not a professional;
2) even that historian says that the dead MAY – I repeat MAY have come from our era – although it is admitted that they may come from the Famine era;
3) the Archbishop of Dublin calls, entirely correctly, for an inquiry, but somehow even this neutral fact is woven into the story to make it seem a lurid confirmation.
It may of course all be true. But we need to wait and see. If you doubt the kind of hatred that it feeds, read the first comment (with its illiterate spelling) in the main story. A reminder too – a few years ago there were similar allegations about a state-run children’s home in Jersey called La Garonne. There was uproar and front page headlines. The grounds were dug up. Nothing was found.
The other feature that puzzles me is the mention of the septic tank. I apologise for focussing on something so upsetting, but it bears thinking about. Is the implication that hundreds of babies and children were disposed of down the toilets? This strains credulity. Or is the explanation that a tank was subsequently dug in what had originally been a graveyard? In which case, it is surprising that there was not a controversy at the time with the remains being disturbed which would have clearly been the case.
Well well well. Here in the Irish press
http://www.irishtimes.com/news/social-affairs/tuam-mother-and-baby-home-the-trouble-with-the-septic-tank-story-1.1823393
we have the local historian denying the most lurid element of the story.
– she did not claim that the children were dumped in a septic tank and it is not clear where this allegation comes from;
– she has the death certificates of 796 children, so that is beyond doubt, but that it averages around 22 a year, during some of which there were epidemics of childhood illnesses in Ireland, and, as the historian admits, Irish infant mortality was much higher than it is today
– also it emerges that during a great deal of the period in question the building was a work house, not a mother and baby home, being the latter only from 1925.
The headlines (as the story makes clear) have screamed around the world. Will this revision of the story make as big an impact? Not a chance. Let us hope that Ruth Gledhill, and the Religion News Service, will include this very significant retraction of elements of the story.
Hi Terry I have been on the road running errands and one of my friends sent me the Irish Times article which is an important piece of a larger narrative (and I have now appended it to the post above). I will be interested to see how this all settles out.
Indeed, prior to penicillin, infant mortality was rampant. It’s arguable that modern medicine coincides with acceptance of artificial birth control for a reason.
For those interested, stories are coming out refuting the propaganda about the Magdalen laundries. Bit I suppose people are always ready to believe the worst.
I have been following this story with dismay and sadness since it first broke in the American press about a week ago. We are in the earliest stage of learning about these homes, and a thorough, professional and impartial investigation will be welcome in establishing the facts.
For many of us, the most disturbing claims asserted so far are these: about 800 children were reported to have died at this facility, but their place of interment is presently unknown for certain. Instead, local lore has indicated a spot that also served as a septic tank, which was discovered to contain (apparently) human remains. People are quite legitimately concerned that the missing human remains may be those remembered to have been seen in such an unworthy place for the burial of any Christian folk, a neglected corner, an unmarked sewer. Or are we to assume that the illegitimate children of these homes were unbaptized (why? how?), and therefore a decent Christian burial was unnecessary for such as these. If you can’t understand why many of us are outraged by the pitiless indignity of these innocents’ disposal — notice I didn’t say “dumping” which seems to offend some people more than the original offense — if you can’t get our outrage, then I can’t possibly help your hard-heartedness.
Or possibly the children had been baptized … In which case, how is their burial in unconsecrated ground, neglected and unvisited for prayerful remembrance, how is that consistent with the canonical stipulations in effect before 1961, traditional Catholic custom, and basic human decency?
[b] Anyone of you who presumes to defend the Tuam convent placing these children’s remains in a septic tank (as certainly appears to have happened), preface all your replies with these words: ” I too, together with my most cherished love ones, will be glad to await Christ’s coming in an unmarked sewage tank : for my “sins” this is all I deserve. ” [/b]
But if not you and your loved ones, why them?
JHP begins by calling for the facts to be investigated but then puts forward as a fact something which has not been established, namely, that infants have been buried in the grounds of the former home. I can only invite him to read the revelatory article in the Irish Times mentioned above. I quote from it:
She [the local historian, Catherine Corless] also discovered that there were no burial records for the children and that they had not been interred in any of the local public cemeteries. In her article she concludes that many of the children were buried in an unofficial graveyard at the rear of the former home.
Now it may be that her deductions are correct: her line of thinking is: (a)there are no burial records saying that the infants were interred in local cemeteries; (b) therefore they must be in the grounds of the home.
But we might also think possible that the local records are incomplete. Or, for that matter, that the infants might have been interred elsewhere. It seems a big deductive leap to say that they must be in corner X of the grounds.
JHP raises important points about canon law and baptism. If the gist of the story is correct, then these would be oamong the many questions that would have to be asked.
It remains a sad, indeed tragic story. I have to say, though, that it raises questions about Irish society – and not just the Church.
I am surprised myself about the Bon Secours sisters not having any records. One of the most shocking things about the Philomena book, which I read, is that records of Sean Ross Abbey did apparently exist but one of the Sisters of the Sacred Hearts (the plural is correct) may have burned them, fearing what might emerge.
JHP mentions outrage. Outrage is a tricky emotion. It links with our deepest intuitions of right and wrong, of the importance of justice, and thus to our very humanity itself. But it can so easily veer into something dangerous, a sense of one’s own righteousness which cannot accept anything that does not fit into its mental picture and attendant emotions. I now realise that, ironically, I have been guilty of outrage myself – my first two entries above testify to that. In a cooler frame of mind I think that the facts still have to be ascertained, and that on both sides of the debate we need to accept this. I accept that if Catherine Corless is correct, then there is much to shock and appal us. She has done some valuable research. But is she correct in her conclusions? That is what needs to be proven.
Again, a claim in the original article now turns out to be less certain. I refer to the claim that the Bon Secours Sisters had no records for admissions at the home. Ireland’s national broadcaster, RTE, quotes the Bon Secours Sisters as saying that they handed over all records to the local authority when the home closed in 1961, and that the records would now be held at the HSE office in Galway.
http://www.rte.ie/news/2014/0606/621906-tuam-mass-grave/
Please notice that in the original post (#6), I was careful not to assign blame to any party. We are just learning about conditions at Tuam and elsewhere; wrongdoing has not been established, and so blame is premature. I don’t think I’m assuming that criminal indifference is an established fact when there is (as yet) only probable cause to investigate. But neither did I leap to defend any party (such as the Irish Church) by assuming this would turn out to be yet another Catholic-bashing story from the biased secular media. However, I do predict that ultimately the terrible conditions in these homes will become documented fact and plenty of blame will be shared by many parties.
For what seems to have happened, I don’t think we can blame the Bon Secours Sisters alone. The nuns seem to have shared the sacrifices and the medical risks of living and working in these homes and they shouldered burdens few others were willing to take up. And I don’t think the Irish Catholic Church should bear exclusive blame either: other countries and other faiths had homes similar to these, although the conditions seem especially miserable in mid-20th century Ireland. And I don’t think the Irish State is only responsible: it struggled in the last century to overcome deep poverty, the effects of war and civil war, and the consequences of long-term colonial exploitation. A fledgling republic, it operated from social attitudes and cultural assumptions it had inherited and which did not serve it well.
Apart from any blame to be assigned, I think that by recovering the sad fate of the Tuam poor, we honor these people — by “re-membering” them we restore them to wholeness and integrity — and that is an important and worthy historical task.