The assessment of the contribution of Garrett Hugh FitzGerald to the search for an antidote to potato blight, as put forward by Mr T. P. O’Neill in his article on the scientific investigation of the potato failure of 1845—6, needs to be revised, if only to do justice to Robert Kane.

FitzGerald wrote to a local newspaper on 9 March 1846, suggesting, as a result of experiments he had made in search of a cure for potato blight, that seed potatoes should be steeped before planting in a solution of bluestone (copper sulphate). In February and March of the same year he wrote two letters on the subject to the chief secretary for Ireland. These letters were forwarded for consideration to the relief commission, of which Robert Kane was the scientific member.

In early August 1910 readers of Reynolds’s Newspaper, a radical weekly journal noted as much for its detailed coverage of divorce court proceedings as for its political radicalism (and in 1911 one of the ‘immoral’ English Sunday papers targeted by Irish ‘vigilance committees’), may have perused the weekly political column written by T.P. O’Connor. ‘T.P.’, the M.P. for Liverpool Scotland, was anything but a disinterested columnist, and with John Redmond, John Dillon and Joseph Devlin formed the inner leadership of the Irish Parliamentary Party and Ireland’s nationalist movement.

Throughout the political crisis of early 1910 O’Connor had been the main London-based conduit for communications between the Irish Party and Asquith’s cabinet, and in particular Lloyd George and the Liberal chief whip, the Master of Elibank. The outcome of the January 1910 general election, which had given the balance of power in the House of Commons to the Irish nationalists, and John Redmond’s use of that power to force Asquith to act to end the veto powers of the House of Lords over parliamentary legislation, had enhanced both Redmond’s status in Ireland and the importance of home rule as an issue that had to be resolved.

When the prince of Wales formally opened the new Northern Ireland Parliament Buildings at Stormont on 16 November 1932, it brought to an end over ten years of controversy, delay, confusion, and wrangling over both finance and design. Although approval to build a new parliament house and administrative offices was given in the autumn of 1922, and preliminary work began on the site in 1923, the above-ground foundation stone was not laid until 1928, and the departmental offices were not occupied until April 1931. There is an extensive literature which stresses the political significance of the architecture of civic and public buildings such as parliament houses, law-courts, government offices and even theatres. Other writers have noted the linkages between architecture, empire, nationalism and state formation. Thomas Metcalf commented that distinctive architectural forms ‘sought to manifest the ideals of imperialism’ and were designed to enhance ‘the hold of Empire over ruler and ruled alike’. For architects such as Herbert Baker, classical design, with its monumentality and ideals of law, order and government, was the only architectural form appropriate for the representation of empire. This was an architecture which gave a ‘visible shape to the new imperialism of the turn of the twentieth century’.

The study of history at both national and local levels featured prominently among the intellectual activities of early modern Europeans. The desire to know more of their own countries (as evidenced by the growth of mapmaking) and the use of history as a political tool both played important parts in the emergence of the past as a vital force in the present. The same was true of early modern Ireland. Settlers coming to a new environment looked to the past both as a way of understanding their new home, and as a way of legitimising current political realities. Sir James Perrott noted in the introduction to his Chronicle of Ireland ‘the use of reading histories is twofold: either private for a man’s particular knowledge and information, or public for the application of it to the service of the state’ Thus Sir John Davies’s treatise on the Discovery of the true causes why Ireland was never entirely subdued was as much a justification of existing royal policy in Ireland as an explanation of Irish history Each, for his own reasons, was looking to the past to explain the present.

The United States census of 1910 revealed that there were four and a half million people in the United States who had beenborn in Ireland, or who had at least one Irish-born parent. The figures did not reveal that many other Americans identified themselves with Ireland, the country of their grandparents, or even of their great-grandparents, and it was not unusual for Irish-American leaders at that time to claim the support of fifteen or twenty million fellow Irish-Americans. A great many of these had, indeed, managed to retain a sense of Irish identity and this was in part because they, or their forebears, had largely settled together in Irish ghettos in large cities. In addition they had been forced inwards to their Irish community for support when persecuted by the ‘ Know-nothings ’ and other nativist groups in the nineteenth century. This Irish subculture in which they lived was cultivated by three groups of fellow Irish-Americans who had an interest in promoting an Irish-American community, the better to control and command the Irish-Americans themselves; the Roman Catholic Church, which was very much an Irish Catholic Church in America, the Irish political bosses, interested in political power rather than Ireland, who had risen to power in the Democratic party by their ability to control the Irish vote, and a third group which utilized the audience they both nurtured, the Irish nationalists. The skill with which these nationalists mobilized Irish-Americans in support of Ireland’s claim to independence added an important dimension to the British government’s Irish problem for it became a problem for successive American governments too. As long as Ireland remained tied to England there were in America men and women prepared to emulate John Mitchel who had declared, when he first landed in New York in November 1853, that he intended to make use of the freedom guaranteed him in America to stimulate the movement for Irish independence. It is the object of this paper to review, albeit briefly and incompletely, the significance of the activities of these Irish-American nationalists in the struggle for Irish freedom and in the development of Anglo-American relations during the period from the Boer war, which began in October 1899, to the Anglo-Irish treaty of December 1921.

Between 1801 and 1921 Ireland in common with the rest of the British Isles was represented in the house of commons at Westminster. During this time the basis of the Irish representation underwent considerable change both in relation to the number of Irish M.P.s, electors and population and in comparison with the number of M.P.s, electors and population for Great Britain. The purpose of this article ir, by means of statistical tables, to analyse the Irish electorate between 1868 and 1915 and in particular to show the effect of the electoral reforms of 1868 and 1884–5. The electorate of Ireland will be viewed not only in the context of the separate Irish constituencies and the proportion of electors to adult males and population in each but also in the context of the whole of the British Isles and the total number of electors and population with the proportion of electors to population in each country. As well the average number of electors and population per M.P. for the different countries will be shown.

For over ten years (June 1895–January 1906) a conservative and unionist government was in office, and, except for the minor devolution crisis of 1904-5, Irish home rule was not a serious issue at Westminster. In Ulster it was a period of relative quiet, undisturbed by the agitation and riots that had attended the home rule bills of 1886 and 1893. After 1886 conservatives and liberal unionists were united electorally and supported unionist parliamentary candidates, though they retained formally separate organisations; liberal home rulers were politically unimportant for most of the period, though they contested seats in Londonderry, Antrim and Tyrone.

In the absence of an immediate external threat dissent grew among those not committed to nationalism. T. W. Russell, M.P. for South Tyrone, found himself increasingly at variance with his leaders over the claims of tenant farmers and stood as an independent unionist in 1906; he was later to become a home rule liberal. At the Belfast municipal elections of 1897 the labour movement of the city returned six candidates, and during the following decade contested the North Belfast parliamentary seat in three successive years. A serious and embarrassing challenge to the leadership of Ulster unionism and the Orange Order was offered by the electoral success in 1902 of T. H. Sloan, a shipyard worker and master of an Orange lodge, and by the formation of the Independent Orange Order in the following year. Sloan, who held his South Belfast seat until 1910, contended that official unionist and Orange leaders disregarded working-class interests and were too ready to yield to catholic and nationalist pressure. The radicalism of the new order was strengthened by one of its officers, Robert Lindsay Crawford, who wished it to follow his own evolution towards liberal nationalism. It is the purpose of this paper to trace the origin and growth of the Independent Orange Order, its rôle in the general election of 1906 and the revival of Ulster liberalism, and its relationship with the Belfast labour movement.

For social reformers in nineteenth-century Ireland, science had an important role to play in national development. Non-denominational or secular education was targeted by the government as a possible panacea for the Irish problem, submerging sectarian and political differences. In order to promote this secular ethos, the government established agencies such as the Board of National Education (B.N.E.) in 1831 and the Queen’s Colleges of Belfast, Cork and Galway in 1845. Science seemed to be an area of discourse particularly appropriate to the promotion of economic prosperity and social harmony through the common cause of education. The rhetoric of cultural transcendence was long associated with the advancement of science — from the Royal Society of London (1660) to the British Association for the Advancement of Science (1831) — and took root in nineteenth-century Ireland.

Historians of any pre-industrial society, such as early seventeenth-century Ireland, must devote the bulk of their energies to the study of the rural world. Rural society, however, cannot be studied in isolation without a serious distortion of the reality of the social structure, since the urban element, although subsidiary, was nevertheless an important feature of pre-industrial society. There are, however, considerable problems in studying urban history in early modern Ulster since the sources can only be described as meagre. The basic sources used by many English early modern urban historians, the corporation records, are missing for all but a few Ulster towns. Only Belfast and Carrickfergus have corporation books for the pre-1641 period. The dearth of other important sources, such as freemen's rolls, means that areas of human activity such as the occupational structure of Ulster towns cannot be demonstrated with the accuracy that English early modern historians have been able to attain. Nor will it be possible to chart the detail of the day-to-day administrative or political structures of towns. Topics such as local elections, the minutiae of poor relief, and law and order must remain relatively shadowy This is not to argue that the history of the Ulster town cannot be written. The work of R. J. Hunter has demonstrated that it is possible by using fragments of central government and local records not only to reconstruct the administrative context of the establishment of towns but also to discover the social, economic, and political structures of individual towns. Ulster towns are among the better documented principal towns in Ireland for the early modern period. The interest of central government in the development of the plantation produced a number of surveys which shed considerable light on urban development. Indeed two of the principal towns in Ulster, Coleraine and Derry, are well documented because of the disputes which surrounded the activities of their developers, the Irish Society, and a rival planter, Sir Thomas Phillips. Ulster also provides an important case study in urbanisation since it contained an older pre-seventeenth-century urban network which was expanded and developed as part of both the informal colonisation and the more formal plantation scheme in Ulster. It is the aim of this paper to examine the development of this new urban network.

This paper is concerned with the teaching of Irish history in Great Britain, with the students, the teachers and their subject. Each merits a brief mention before any detailed discussion, in order to draw attention to the problems that exist, and to clear up any misunderstanding or ignorance about the task that is to be performed.

In the great controversy between Edmund Burke and Thomas Paine occasioned by the French Revolution, Paine made at least one telling remark in his refutation of Burke’s defence of tradition and usage: he declared that an hereditary monarch was about as sensible as an hereditary mathematician. An hereditary Irish studies student in Great Britain makes about as much sense as both. Much nonsense is talked about the inherited genes of the Irish in Britain, on the assumption that (somehow) an interest in, and ability to comprehend, Irish studies can be transmitted from one generation of Irish immigrants to another. This may be the case; but if it is, it probably takes its rise from social rather than hereditary factors; and it is no more likely to produce an intelligent, perceptive student of Ireland than of France.

There is a sense in which the home rule debates of 1886 were less the climax of than a deviation from the logical and predictable development of Irish politics in the Parnellite period. Had home rule been achieved, no doubt all would have been changed, and an autonomous Irish parliament would have addressed itself enthusiastically to solving the country's social and economic problems. But in the absence of home rule these problems immediately resumed the centre of the stage and the chief of them, the settlement of the land question, became again the crucial issue in Anglo-Irish relations. For some people, indeed, it had remained the crucial issue even during the ‘home rule’ winter of 1885–6, when the position on the Clanricarde estates in Galway, already notoriously bad, perceptibly worsened and when pressure was brought to bear both upon the Irish National League and upon the parliamentary party itself to adopt a more warlike posture towards rack-renting and evicting landlords.

Queer history is still in its infancy in Ireland, with political approaches and the more recent past, and the gay rights movement particularly, providing the primary focus so far. This article takes a different approach by investigating the everyday experiences, identities and policing of men who had sex with men in the early twentieth century. Using two extraordinary case studies from Belfast during the First World War, I explore different lives ― from youth to adulthood, sexual encounter to arrest, and trial to life afterwards. I argue that queer culture in Belfast shared aspects with other western metropolises, particularly in terms of urban cruising, payment for sex and relationships structured by class. Public responses too, from newspaper to courtroom, were articulated through transnational formulations of respectability and masculinity. At the same time, however, Belfast's queer men were shaped by their movement within a peculiarly Irish network of places, both in and beyond the country's borders. Religious and political structures specific to Ulster also affected how such men fared in the legal system and in their lives following their trials. By detailing both the similarities yet divergences of queer experience in Belfast, I thus aim to raise a new agenda for studying male sexuality in the north of Ireland.

Northern Ireland, the United Kingdom’s only self-governing region, recorded year-on- year the worst statistics on health and poverty. However, it was far from certain that the Unionist government in Belfast would enact the kind of sweeping post-war reform that occurred in England and Wales. The raft of legislation governing health and social care introduced in 1948 was, therefore, the product of conditions and circumstances peculiar to Northern Ireland. The government in Belfast needed to overcome the conservative instincts of Ulster Unionism as well as suspicions regarding Clement Attlee’s Labour administration. Although the process was somewhat blighted by sectarianism, the government of Sir Basil Brooke enacted what amounted to a revolution in health and social care provision.

Several writers on Irish population in the pre-famine period have suggested that detailed local studies are urgently needed to supplement the evidence from national data, such as the early census returns or the hearth tax lists, and to assist in clarifying elusive problems such as age of marriage, size of family, death-rate changes etc. It is often asserted, however, that the amount of detailed information relating to specific areas is limited and of poor quality; in particular, contrasts are drawn between the availability and usefulness of parish registers relating to pre-famine Ireland and those available to scholars in England, France and Scandinavia. Pre-famine parochial registers of burials, marriages and baptisms do nonetheless exist, and, although their use poses problems, there are indications that a good deal of useful information may be waiting to be uncovered.

National symbols have long been the subject of political controversy in Ireland and remain so today. Although arguments about symbols are now more common in Northern Ireland than in the Irish Republic, the early years of the Irish Free State saw vigorous discussions about the appropriateness of the new state’s symbols. One such debate broke out in 1929, following a dispute between the Free State government and Trinity College, Dublin, over which anthem should be played for the Governor-General. At the time this dispute was described by one political commentator as ‘one of those political storms in a tea-cup in which we delight’, and now, from a distance of almost seventy years, it is perhaps even harder to understand how such passions were roused over a seemingly minor incident. Even teacup storms can provide valuable insights, however, if historians can learn to read the tea-leaves.

One way of studying national anthems is to analyse their texts and compare them with those of other nations in order to obtain ‘an unique view into the polity, its self-conception or self-image, and ultimately, its deepest political aspirations, experiences, goals, and values’. Such an approach, however, takes an ahistorical and essentialist view of the nation or state and loses sight of political divisions within the nation. National anthems must be seen in their historical context: the circumstances of their creation and adoption must be examined, as must the ways in which the meanings attached to them change over time. They often emerge out of political conflict and can become the focus of conflict once again as new political forces come to the fore. Despite the claims of governments and nationalist ideologues, the selection of a national anthem is not a simple expression of ‘national will’.

Between 13 and 15 August 1969 communal violence in Belfast saw seven people killed and over 400 treated for injuries. Nearly 2,000 families were forced from their homes. British troops were deployed on the streets to prevent further violence, events usually seen as the starting point of the modern Irish Troubles. In 1972 the Sunday Times Insight Team's Ulster set the tone for commentary on the role of the I.R.A. during this period. It claimed that the organisation had been ‘largely an irrelevance’ in Belfast during August 1969 and as a result ‘I.R.A. – I Ran Away was scrawled derisively over the walls of the Catholic Ghettos’. Conor Cruise O'Brien soon asserted in States of Ireland that when violence erupted ‘the I.R.A. had very few weapons and very few people trained and ready to use them. Their prestige in the Ghettos went sharply down. People wrote on walls I.R.A. I Ran Away.’ Echoing these statements twentythree years later Tim Pat Coogan in his book The Troubles stated that ‘the I.R.A. posed very little threat to anyone during those days. So little that the disgusted inhabitants of the area, used to regarding the I.R.A. in the traditional role of “the defenders” wrote up the letters I.R.A. on gable walls as Irish Ran Away.' Similar assertions are found in a wide variety of the literature, both popular and academic, dealing with the outbreak of the Troubles.

John Toland was one of the most remarkable of Swift’s Irish contemporaries. He was a man of many parts and extraordinary versatility: a linguist with some claims to scholarship, a political propagandist and a speculative-thinker. At the same time, he was brash and indiscreet, with the result that he fell out with one patron after another and was forced to make a precarious living as a Grub Street hack. But his writings influenced later generations, were translated into French and German, and gave him an international reputation as one of the forerunners of the age of reason.

The two ‘great unknowns’ of Irish migration history, women and Protestants, have received deserved attention in the decade or so since Donald Akenson first drew attention to them as lacunae in an otherwise growing field of scholarly concern. A review of the literature, however, demonstrates that Irish women have benefited more than Protestants from recent research. Despite pioneering efforts, much of the work on the non-Catholic dimension tends to be general or indicative in approach, with little of the depth and range now associated with Irish women’s experiences of migration.

This article explores the comparative history of land agitation and how it evolved and intersected with nationalism and socialism in Finland and Ireland between the Irish Land War and the Finnish Civil War of 1918. Drawing on current scholarship as well as contemporary newspapers and official records, the article shows that an organised land movement developed later and was markedly less violent in Finland than in Ireland. Moreover, while in Ireland the association of landlordism with British rule helped to fuse the land movement with nationalist mobilisation during the Land War, in Finland the tie between the land movement and nationalism remained weak. This was a consequence of Finnish nationalists’ strong affiliation with landowning farmers, which hindered their success in mobilising tenant farmers and agricultural workers. Consequently, the Finnish countryside witnessed a remarkable rise in the socialist movement in the early 1900s. The socialist leanings of the Finnish land movement were greatly influenced by the Russian revolutions, whereas in Ireland militant Fenianism, often emanating from Irish America, affected land agitation more than socialism. As to transnational exchanges, the article also indicates the influence of Irish rural unrest and the related land acts on Finnish public debates and legislation.