This article examines how the handling of Irish affairs at the civil-war court was observed, commented upon, and probably influenced, by a man who had been at the heart of Irish government during the previous decade. It argues that the presence of Sir George Radcliffe, arguably Thomas Wentworth, earl of Strafford's closest advisor, at the royalist court in Oxford was significant in a number of respects. His surviving correspondence reveals the extent to which he was able to advise and support the newly-appointed lord lieutenant of Ireland, the marquis of Ormond. His letters also cast light on the politics of the civil-war court, in particular on how he, as an essentially second-level figure, worked flexibly with both secretaries of state. This article argues that Radcliffe's discussions with secretary of state, George Lord Digby, provided an important means by which Strafford's influence could make itself felt at the Oxford court, particularly during the 1644 negotiations with the Confederate commissioners. The pursuit of forceful, contentious policies by the former Irish administration and its contemptuous attitude towards critics, however, ensured that Radcliffe's presence at Oxford was probably unwelcome to many at court and failed to advance his career.

The year 1857 saw the first of the great riot commissions which provided much source material for Belfast history. It should be read as a continuation of the street conflict of that summer. Careful reading shows the skill with which the weak Catholic/Liberal alliance of the city managed the flow of witnesses and the naiveté of the Orange/Protestant lawyers. The Catholic/Liberal side ‘won’ the inquiry, achieving their aim of convincing the Dublin government that the local police force was ineffective if not sectarian and that Orange Order culture and evangelical street preaching was responsible for the disorder. Practical outcomes were limited. Resources were limited due to demands in other parts of Ireland and the process of taking first-class troops from Ireland to deal with the Indian mutiny. Considered in light of theories of ‘civil society’, the court was a means of countering the imperfections of representative government. Considered in the context of Ireland as a whole, events demonstrated the weakness of the Dublin authorities, their ignorance of Belfast and the importance of the resident magistrate. Much was concealed from the inquiry. The following months revealed evidence of an active Ribbon-style organisation, and the animosity of the local police and the constabulary. Attention to working class sectarianism diverted attention from elite failure to manage the class relationships of a fractured civil society.

This article explores the myriad of health hazards and dangers faced by industrial workers in Belfast between 1870 and 1914, as well as the efforts made by reformers and legislators to protect them. The article uses a variety of official sources to demonstrate the varying and distinctly gendered experience of men, women, and children working in the factories, mills, and shipyards of the city, as well as the gendered nature of the legislation put in place in this period. The article argues that the societal norms and expectations that informed legislation contributed to the gender gap that emerged in protective legislation. Female workers were seen in the same category as children and were protected paternalistically by a state still grappling with the changing position of women in an industrialising society, while men were expected to face ‘bravely’ the dangers of industrial work with little or no state intervention.

This article examines the importance of physical culture systems for Irishmen seeking to enter the Royal Irish Constabulary (R.I.C), and those already operating within it, in the period 1900 to 1914. R.I.C. entrance requirements encouraged some men to alter their bodies physically to meet standardised body measurements for police officers. Simultaneously, a growing body of literature urged men to reflect upon their stature and, if found deficient, to undertake courses of physical culture. This situation, it is argued, led to a valorisation of muscularity and strength as foundational to an officer's physical presence and strength of character. To further demonstrate the relationship between physical culture and the R.I.C., the article also examines efforts by members within the force to associate strong bodies with broader masculine identities related to courage, integrity and bravery. The article begins with a brief discussion of the R.I.C., before examining the historiography of Irish masculinity and police masculinities more generally. Next, the article examines the importance of physical culture for those seeking entry into the constabulary, with reference to the Irish Times’s physical culture column, before finally examining the efforts by existing members to strengthen the R.I.C.’s relationship with physical culture. In both instances, involving aspirant and actual members of the R.I.C., the article argues that conceptions of masculinity in the constabulary echoed broader social messages and came to equate strong physiques with wider assumptions about police integrity and character.

This article examines the career of the Irish Presbyterian minister and member of the Westminster parliament, James Little, as a case study of Presbyterian clerical responses to the Second World War in Northern Ireland. Establishing a more detailed narrative of contemporary interpretations of the conflict improves our understanding of the functions of religious institutions during the period. It demonstrates that Presbyterian church leaders were largely enthusiastic supporters of the war, employing theological language while promoting the agenda of unionist politics. By juxtaposing clerical politico-religious support for the war with their commitment to conservative moral standards, the article assesses the strength with which these views were held, thereby adding to our knowledge of Presbyterianism in the 1940s. The article also situates the Northern Ireland Presbyterian view of the war within the context of the United Kingdom.

This article explores the contraception campaigns of Irishwomen United (I.W.U.) and their offshoot, the Contraception Action Programme (CAP), in the Republic of Ireland from 1975 to 1981. It draws on ten oral history interviews with former members of I.W.U. and CAP conducted by the author, in addition to feminist magazines, newspaper sources and the Roisin Conroy/Attic Press archive. For Irish feminists, the issue of class was paramount to their contraception campaigns while, in common with their counterparts in the United States, they were also concerned about the increasing medicalisation of women's bodies and the potential health risks of the contraceptive pill, commonly prescribed as a ‘cycle regulator’ in Ireland. Fundamentally, I.W.U. and CAP members believed in a women's movement that allowed for the equal distribution of sexual knowledge and access to contraception. In this way, they foregrounded the connection between health and economic rights. Through their demonstrations, meetings and service provision, in unconventional spaces such as shops, markets, community centres and caravans, they challenged not only the law, but also the authority of both religious patriarchy and medical expertise in Ireland. Through an exploration of the activities of I.W.U./CAP, this article will contribute to understandings of campaigns around contraception and, with my commitment to profiling the experiences of ‘rank and file’ women, it will highlight class inequalities and concerns surrounding the medicalisation of women's bodies to a larger extent than has been done before. It also seeks to show the importance of informal women's networks in providing access to contraception and information about contraception pre-legalisation. Moreover, the article seeks to further elucidate the contribution of Irish grassroots organisations which have received limited historical attention.

This article examines the sole extant and complete set of signed witness statements for an Irish witchcraft trial. These testimonies were given at Florence Newton's trial for witchcraft at Cork assizes in September 1661, and were signed by the presiding judge, Sir William Aston. The Aston manuscript has been annotated and transcribed in its full, original form for the first time, providing historians with a unique document with which to explore one of the few Irish witchcraft trials. This article also provides suggestions for new ways of looking at the case, and more importantly demonstrates that Newton was not, as once thought, put to death for witchcraft under the 1586 Irish Witchcraft Act but died during her trial. Furthermore, taken in the context of early modern European witchcraft, the case is shown to be an important example of a witch trial occurring in a highly gendered, contested, post-conflict society.