Offaly and the Battle of Gettysburg. Michael Bennett, James Campbell and the Edenderry connection. By Kevin Guing

Was it chance and circumstances that led fourteen Offaly men to be present in early July 1863 on the fields, hills, and laneways of Gettysburg in what was, and still is to this day, the single most important battle in American history?

Chance:  the absence of any cause of events that can be predicted, understood, or controlled

Circumstances:  a condition, fact, or event accompanying, conditioning, or determining another

On reading any account of the single most pivotal battle in American History it quickly becomes obvious to even those with zero knowledge of battlefield tactics and military history that the main factors that decided the final outcome came about as a result of chance and circumstances, good and bad luck, decisions that only after the dust settled on the fields of Pennsylvania in early July 1863 were deemed correct and, fatally, one single decision made by a seemingly invincible General Robert E. Lee that doomed his Confederate Army to defeat and almost by accident won a victory for a Union Army commanded by a seemingly hesitant General George Meade. The margin of victory for the Union army, in the opinion of most military historians, was so tight that small and snap decisions were the deciding factor and not brilliant military tactics.  It seems that in the late evening of the 3^rd of July 1863 it was chance and circumstances that had played the most important role in the outcome of the battle.

Captain Michael Hoy from Daingean. American Civil War Hero & Pioneer lawman. By Danny Leavy

 Michael Hoy was born in Daingean county Offaly in the year 1834 to William Hoy and Rosanna Concasey. His father died when he was a young boy. In 1853 he emigrated with his mother, brother William, and two sisters Rosanna and Elizabeth, settling in Brooklyn. His older brothers Joseph and John, along with another sister Mary had gone to America a few years before. Michael Hoy learned the stone cutters trade in Brooklyn. In 1854 the family moved to Cooperstown, New York, which is two hundred miles north of the city. Young Hoy worked in his trade for one more year before returning to Brooklyn. In 1857 he went to Minnesota, settling in the town of Saint Anthony. At this time Saint Anthony had a few scattered houses on the east bank of the Mississippi river. He followed his trade and the same year of his arrival he cut stone for the building of the State University.

The Law of the Innocents, Birr 697 AD. By Jim Houlihan

           In a time of war in eastern Europe and the coming to an end of the Decade of Centenaries period in Ireland, 1912–23 with the cessation of the civil war, here we today publish the second of two blogs on the protection of innocent people in times of strife. The article is by Jim Houlihan and on Monday 25 Sept. Dr Houlihan will give a lecture on Adomnán’s Law of the Innocents-Birr 697 AD. at Offaly History Centre, Bury Quay, Tullamore (and online) at 8 p.m. More details of his talk and online booking for Zoom see our FB post @offalyhistory. Our thanks to John Dolan for the first article and to Jim Houlihan for this article and his forthcoming talk.

Early in the summer of the year 697, probably in May, a great assembly of kings, bishops and abbots, along with their followers and servants, took place in Birr. It was a joint meeting of kings (rígdál) and of church leaders (synod). They came together to proclaim a law for the protection of women, children, clerics and other people who did not bear arms, in times of conflict. The law was called Cáin Adomnáin or the ‘Law of the Innocents’ (Lex Innocentium) and later referred to in a poem as the ‘Great Law of Bir

Father Anthony Grogan of Mucklagh, Tullamore, Ireland and Ellis Island. “First look for the Statue of Liberty, then look for Father Grogan.” By Danny Leavy. A contribution to the Decade of Centenaries

Father Grogan was born on June 14^th, 1873, in Brocca, Screggan County in Offaly. His parents were Joseph Grogan and Mary Molloy. He received his early education at Mucklagh National School, Saint Columbus School, Tullamore and Saint Finian’s College Navan. At the solicitation of his uncle, the Reverend, Anthony J. Molloy of the New York Archdiocese, came to the United States and was admitted to Saint Joseph Seminary then located in Troy, New York. He continued his studies there and at the new St. John’s Seminary in Dunwoody, where he was ordained on May 27^th, 1899. He celebrated his first mass at Saint Peter’s church in Yonkers, NY, where his uncle was the Past

His first assignment was to Rosendale, NY for one year. He was transferred to the Mission of Our Lady of the Rosary, where he remained uninterruptedly serving as assistant until 1922.

Offaly evacuated, not a British policeman or soldier now in the county. Tullamore R.I.C. barracks occupied by I.R.A., troops march in with fixed bayonets, headed by St. Enda’s pipers. 7 March 1922. An Offaly History contribution to the Decade of Centenaries.

The dismantling of the barrack structure of the British military establishment advanced rapidly in the aftermath of the signing of Anglo-Irish Treaty in December 1921. The great exodus in Offaly began in February 1922. The newly issued Offaly Independent (absent since November 1920 due to its destruction by the British military) was now able to report that

11 March 1922 Offaly Independent

, “They are going with a vengeance,” but now it is the army of occupation, not the natives of the country, that is leaving our shores, going while a great sigh of relief goes up, and no pang of regret is felt at the departure of those who held is in bondage for so long. What a change the front of St. Conleth’s School in Daingean now presents from what it did a short time ago. The front gates are now thrown open for the first time in nearly two years, as when the local police barrack was destroyed the splendid group of houses inside the gates of St. Conleth’s School which had been used for the purpose of housing some of the tradesmen employed in the institution were commandeered and used as a barrack for police and Black and Tans until Wednesday of last week when the evacuation took place. From an early hour on that morning the residents of the barracks were astir and it was easy to see that something out of the common was about to take place. Before long it was evident that the long-wished for hour had come and that the Crown forces were about to clear out, bag and baggage. At mid-day lorries arrived from Edenderry carrying the Black and Tans from that district, and all assembled at the Grand Canal Bridge, Daingean for the final parting. Such musical instruments as accordions, mouthorgans, etc., were produced and the disbanded heroes made the welcome ring to the strains of “Come back to Erin” (we hope they won’t). “It’s a long way to Tipperary”, “You’ll Remember Me”, and other items. The townspeople viewed the scene unmoved and the farewells were not returned. On the following day the members of the old R.I.C. force prepared to leave Daingean, and by Friday not a single policeman was to be seen in the place, while a new force guarded the town (OI, 11 2 1922).

Private John Dargin, Tullamore, County Offaly fought at Waterloo. By Stephen Callaghan

208 years ago, the Battle of Waterloo took place in Belgium. The armies under the command of the Duke of Wellington defeated Napoleon, putting an end to the Napoleonic Wars, which had begun in 1803. To mark the victory and acknowledge the men that fought at the battle, a campaign medal was decided upon by the House of Commons. Rather than given for acts of bravery, it was given to all those involved in the campaign. Similarly, other counties in the coalition issued medals of their own, however the medals issued by the British were named to the recipient, making it possible to trace them. In today’s post, we will look at one of these Waterloo medals, which was awarded to Private John Dargin of the 54^th Regiment of Fo

John Dargin was born near the parish of Kilbride or Tullamore. He enlisted in the British Army on 6 May 1812 and was a labourer. Assuming he would have been around 18 years old at the time of his enlistment, this would place his birth around the 1790s.

The Irish Mist Figurine/ Soldier. By John Flanagan

This week we provide an extract from the book to be published in November 2023 on Irish Mist Liqueur, a unique Tullamore-based product for almost forty years. Many homes have the Irish Mist Soldier in pride of place on a dresser so here is some more information about it from John Flanagan, the production manager with Irish Mist for twenty-five years. The book will be published in the autumn. You can email us to reserve a copy for you. No money now thanks. The book has support from Creative Ireland and Offaly County Council.

The Irish Mist ceramic figurine was made by Coronetti, Cunardo, Italy. Each one was individually hand-painted by different artists in the factory. The figurine is a replica of an Irish soldier (officer) in the Austrian army about 1756. The Austrian connection is associated with the founder of the recipe for Irish Mist Liqueur who was Austrian. Irish Mist was known as the Legendary Liqueur.

The Diary of Colour-Serjeant George Calladine, 19th Foot, 1793–1837, and his stay in Tullamore in the 1820s. By Michael Byrne

There are a few surviving published diaries of soldiers who served in the British army in Ireland from the 1700s to the 1900s.[1]  One such is that of colour sergeant Calladine whose account of his time stationed in the Midlands in 1822 (at pp 108-109)  is of interest as to how soldiers were occupied at the time.[2]

George Calladine was born in Wimeswould, Leicester in 1793, the son of a gardener. After his father died, he was apprenticed to a framework knitter, but found the work boring. He joined the Derbyshire militia in 1810, and then the 19th Foot in the regular army. In 1814, his regiment was posted to Ceylon, and helped to put down a rebellion. The 19th Regiment of Foot was sent to Ireland in 1821, where Calladine, by now married, lived with his wife and children in barracks. In 1826, he chose to remain in Ireland as a hospital sergeant, rather than accompany his regiment to the West Indies. He was discharged from the army after twenty-seven years’ service in 1837, with a pension 2s. 1½d. per day. He returned to Derby and became the master of a workhouse. He and his wife had thirteen children, eleven of whom died in infancy. Calladine himself died in 1876, aged 83. In the excerpt below, Calladine discusses some of his courting experiences as his regiment moved from Hull to Westminster to Weedon. While he was unsuccessful, he was not the stereotypical irresponsible soldier seducing any young woman whom he came across. (From Women, Soldiers and the British army, 1700–1880 (London, 2020).

Calladine was in Clare Castle, County Clare in 1828 ­ – a poor miserable place about a mile from Ennis and where two of his children died (see A tale of Old Clare per Google).

Calladine spoke well of Tullamore  town but described the barracks as old.  The barracks had been built in 1716 (located where the garda station is now located and the streets around) and survived until destroyed by the Republican IRA departing from Tullamore on 20 July 1922 during the course of the Civil War. Now read the diary extract:

V.S. Pritchett on disturbed Ireland during the Civil War. A visit in 1923 reporting for the Christian Science Monitor and in 1966 for Dublin: A Portrait (1967). A contribution from Offaly History to the Decade of Centenaries.

In Midnight Oil (London, 1971) V.S. Pritchett (1900-97) describes how The Christian Science Monitor sent him to Ireland early in 1923 to write about the Irish Civil War. The Anglo-Irish treaty had been signed, the Irish politicians split, and the two parties were killing each other. When Pritchett arrived the siege of the Four Courts in Dublin was well over and the fighting was drifting away to the south and west. In fact there was not much more than three months left before the Republicans decided to dump arms

On a misleadingly sunny day on the first of February 1923, I took the train from London to Holyhead. In a heavy leather suitcase I carried a volume of Yeats’s poems, an anthology of Irish poetry, Boyd’s Irish Literary Renaissance, Synge’s Plays, and a fanatical book called Priests and People in Ireland by McCabe [McCarthy, 1864–1926, published in 1902], lent to me by a malign Irish stationer in Streatham who told me I would get on all right in Ireland so long as I did not talk religion or politics to anyone and kept the book out of sight. Unknown to myself I was headed for the seventeenth century.

The Irish Sea was calm—thank God—and I saw at last that unearthly sight of the Dublin mountains rising with beautiful false innocence in their violets, greens, and golden rust of grasses and bracken from the sea, with heavy rain clouds leaning like a huge umbrella over the northern end of them. My breath went thin: I was feeling again the first symptoms of my liability to spells. I remember wondering, as young men do, whether somewhere in this city was walking a girl with whom I would fall in love: the harbours of Denmark gave way to Dublin Bay and the Wicklow Hills. The French had planted a little of their sense of limits and reason in me, but already I could feel these vanishing.

Clara and Ballycumber men among twenty that went over the wall at Mountjoy in 1919. By Pat McLoughlin. A contribution to the Decade of Centenaries

On the 29^th March 1919, 20 IRA Volunteers escaped from Mountjoy jail in broad day light.  This escape was planned by Michael Collins on the outside and Piaras Béaslaí on the inside.  A prison strike had been taking place in the jail in support of four prisoners who were not being afforded political status.  In the lead up to the escape this strike was halted because the escape plan had a better chance of success with a quieter atmosphere in the prison.

The plan was to get Piaras Béaslaí and JJ Murphy both MPs and Padraig Fleming a volunteer from the Swan, Co. Laois out, followed by the four prisoners not being afforded political status.  A list of men with long sentences was created and it was decided that men serving short sentences or who had sentences close to completion would not escape.  Padraig Fleming had conducted an extraordinary fight for treatment as a political prisoner in Maryborough (Portlaoise) jail, enduring hunger strike, torture and physical mistreatment for months.  In Mountjoy he was the Officer Commanding the political prisoners.

The escape was planned for 3 p.m. on Saturday March 29^th.  On the previous Monday the four prisoners being denied political status broke away from the warders in charge of them and led them on a big chase around the field before being recaptured.  As a result, they were kept in a metal cage for exercise and guarded by no less than eleven warders.  If these precautions were continued their chances of escape were slight, while the presence of so many warders also presented a serious obstacle to the escape plan.  On Fleming’s orders the four prisoners caused no more problems for the warders and the prison authorities were lulled into a false sense of security.