brother-in-law, telling Jane that, despite suffering poor health, Edward was scrupulous in economising the mission’s funds, seeking few comforts for himself.
In a remarkable coincidence, Jane Franklin’s group arrived in Achill just days after a triumphal visit to the island by John MacHale, his first as archbishop. What might the adventurer Lady Jane have made of the robed prelate, had they come to face-to-face, with their diametrically opposed nineteenth-century outlooks?
Dressed in episcopal robes, the archbishop had led a procession of thirteen priests, followed by an enthusiastic crowd waving banners emblazoned with ‘Down the Schematics’. He officiated in a splendid spectacle at a high mass in nearby Dookinella within sight of leaping Atlantic waves in an atmosphere of near hysteria.In an impressive display in the presence of their archbishop, a succession of priests addressed the crowd and denounced the colony, calling on the people to have no interaction of any sort with the Achill Mission: ‘neither borrowing nor lending, neither buying nor selling’. In a theatrical gesture that matched the striking location, a solemn curse was invoked on those who dared violate the mandate of not associating with the colony.
Soon after the episcopal visit, the Connaught Telegraph predicted the imminent demise of the Achill Mission: ‘in six months more, within the tenantless walls of the colony will be heard only the shrill whistle of the whirlwind, or the night-screech of the owl – the buildings shall stand as a lasting record of the folly and hypocrisy of their architects’.3 The prediction proved to be a delusion, while the archbishop’s visit certainly presented an image of the fiery antagonism between John MacHale and Edward Nangle and their respective belief systems.
***
Jane Franklin believed passionately in personal improvement and in the power of education and it was this aspect of Edward Nangle’s ministry that interested her most. Some months earlier, on 23 December 1834, the first Achill Mission school had opened at Slievemore village on the western flank of the mountain in a three-roomed building. Within a couple of months there were three more mission schools at Dugort, Cashel and Keel and, quickly realising the threat which these posed, the island’s parish priest Michael Connolly responded by opening three competing schools in early 1835. From a situation where there was little or no education infrastructure on the island, there were now a plethora of opposing schools.
Given that the modern Irish state has struggled to deal with issues of pluralism and multi-denominational expectations in its education system to the present day, it is intriguing to reflect on how an ambitious non-denominational primary school system became embroiled in a sectarian battle for souls in 1830s Achill.
It was just a few years since the Chief Secretary of Ireland, Edward Stanley, set out the bones of his new non-denominational state-supported universal system of elementary education for Ireland in his 1831 ‘Stanley Letter’ after decades of debate and controversy.4 Under the new system, designed to unite children of different creeds, no religious iconography would be allowed in the schools and religious instruction would take place either before or after school hours. In practice, the demarcation between general instruction and religious instruction became blurred. The schools operated under the direction of the National Board and received financial assistance, supplemented by local resources, for school buildings, teacher salaries, school books and equipment. In a reflection of the cultural imperialist policies of the time, all teaching would be through the medium of English while school texts were centrally produced. It was a revolutionary experiment in state education and secularity.
Edward Nangle and John MacHale initially opposed the national system, both arguing that secular and religious education were inseparable and should be controlled by the respective denominations. For his part, Edward railed against a scheme which, he held, aimed to ‘withhold the knowledge of God’s word from the children of Ireland’.5 He would reject the national scheme and, instead, put scripture teaching at the heart of his mission schools and operate them through privately raised funding without government support.
John MacHale was hostile to the state scheme from the beginning, opposing it on the grounds that it would be non-denominational, that the Irish language would be non-compulsory and that school texts would be British in character. However, the pragmatic archbishop, faced with the threat posed by the Achill Mission, saw an opportunity to secure state funding to establish competing island schools under the influence of his local clergy. The battle for the hearts of the Achill children was in full swing.
Jane Franklin was appalled that the national system of education, from which so much had been expected, was failing so dismally in its objectives. How could it possibly be a proper use of the national scheme to support the MacHale schools in Achill? She found it unacceptable that the National Board was providing the opportunity and means for the Catholic clergy to establish rival Achill schools which were now threatening the viability of those operated by the Achill Mission. In her view, a scheme established on a non-denominational basis had, in fact, ‘widened the separation between the catholic and protestant population’.6
Edward Nangle was rankled at the manner in which MacHale and his priests were using the national education system and took his complaints repeatedly to the National Board, complaining that the Achill schools were adhering neither to the principles nor the regulations of the national programme. His most serious objections were made against James O’Donnell, master of Dugort national school in close proximity to the colony who, he protested, had provocatively carried a flag in a welcoming procession for John MacHale. This clearly contravened the National Board policy that school masters should refrain from any activities detrimental to carrying out a common system of education. Edward had an additional grievance: that the same teacher, James O’Donnell, had, ‘with a knife in his hand threatened to take the head of one of the children attending a school under [mission] patronage’.
The National Board, through its secretary Thomas F. Kelly, took a benign view of the school master’s conduct, maintaining that ‘these are allegations of what passed amongst unlettered men, and amongst angry men’,7 and that the charges, while unwelcome, did not warrant the teacher’s dismissal.
Sometime after this dispute, Edward was called to give evidence before a parliamentary select committee of the Lords and Commons which was examining the new Irish education system, and his testimony provides a compelling and direct account of his mission’s goals and mode of operation in its early years.
Was it true, Edward was asked, that the conversion of the people of Achill was his main objective in coming to the island?
‘Most decidedly. I desired to be an instrument in the hands of God. It was perfectly understood; we never made any secret of our object.’
But did he have other objectives in Achill, like improving the destitute conditions of the people?
‘Certainly; we considered the reclaiming of them from the errors of Popery as the main object of the greatest importance, and the other as subservient to it.’
Were there any schools in Achill before the mission schools?
‘There was no school except one; a pay school attended by very few children, I understand.’
Why did he consider that the establishment of national schools by the priests would have a negative effect on the mission schools?
‘When the priest established another school then it became an act of more daring rebellion against his authority to pass by that school and to come to ours.’
Did he always address the people in the Irish language?
‘Not on all occasions; I did occasionally.’
How many families were there on the Achill Mission grounds?
‘There
