A sad story from the Cork Examiner, 1st June 1865 (courtesy of Ireland Old News), recounting a scandal which must have shocked the Galway town of Ballinasloe:-
“BALLINASLOE, SUNDAY, NINE o’CLOCK, P.M.—The Master, Mr. David Breen and Miss Duane, the school mistress, were arrested about three hours ago for the murder of the infant found in the privy of the workhouse on Wednesday last. It appears that on the night of Thursday, the day the inquest was held, the master revealed to his wife the startling fact that he had carried on an illicit intercourse with Miss Duane for some time, and the result of her becoming pregnant by him. He made a similar confession to the Rev. John Cotton Walker, rector of the parish, observing that his conscience would not let him be at ease.
Intimation being given to John M. Hatchell, Esq., R.M., both he and Miss Duane were arrested by Head-Constable Ellis about six o’clock, and brought to the police barracks. Mr. Breen not only admits the criminal intercourse with the wretched woman but that he was aware of her pregnancy ; that in March last she went to Dublin for the purpose of being privately confined, but that, on her return, she wrote him a note, stating she destroyed the child before she went, and told him where she put it, wanting him to have the privy cleared in a few days after, which he declined doing, nor would he think of doing so, only the manure was required for the farm. The wretched woman has, as yet, made no confession of her guilt. I understand a full inquiry will be held to-morrow. The greatest sensation prevailed through every part of the town on hearing of the arrest of the parties.”
Despite his protestations, Mr Breen doesn’t seem so innocent. Funny how, even though told that his baby was lying dead in the privy, he never went to look for it and his conscience only started to trouble him after the body was found by someone else. Ballinasloe was not exactly lucky in its Workhouse Masters; see here for an account of a further troublesome one twenty years later. For some reason this history doesn’t refer to the earlier scandal.
More on infanticide in 19th century Ireland, and among Irish women in Australia (among whom, interestingly, the rate of infanticide was higher than in the case of women of other ethnic origin) here and here.
Perhaps the most famous case of infanticide in literature is Gretchen, in Goethe’s Faust.
In real ife, Goethe was a close advisor and friend to the Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach. Capital punishment for infanticide was common in those days, and the Duke was increasingly uncomfortable with these executions. In the case of Johanna Hoehn, in 1783, he put to his advisors the question of eliminating the death penalty for this crime.
Goethe…despite his sympathetic portrayal of Gretchen…cast the deciding vote to retain the death penalty and thus for Johanna Hoehn’s execution.
http://www.executedtoday.com/2010/11/28/1783-johanna-catharina-hohn-goethe-infanticide/
Very interesting! My knowledge of Goethe is, ahem, sadly lacking. Will read that link.
The English novelist George Eliot also wrote about infanticide in Adam Bede. I think it was quite prevalent in Victorian Ireland, at least in rural areas.
Lots of dead babies’ bodies in 19th century news reports though not that many prosecutions (I think the establishment turned a blind eye, one would like to think out of compassion, but probably just laziness; true compassion would involve giving these women some practical help). It’s part of that many-chequered tapestry that is The Irish And Sex.
Infanticide came up most recently in the 1980s in the notorious Kerry Babies case… google it!
Am I right in thinking that only the Church of Ireland had an office called Rector?
I don’t think there’s anything peculiarly Irish about this, and certainly dead babies that no-one bothered about much were common enough in victorian England. Many of these came from a characteristic industry called baby-farming, that will probably be revived by the current welfare “reforms”.
On the other hand, it seems infanticide was so common in 18thC Scotland that a woman known to have been pregnant was assumed guilty unless she could produce a baby or an explanation. That’s the premise of The Heart of Midlothian.
The history of baby-farming is heartbreaking; in so many cases the babies were disposed of by the carers to whom they were given. There is a very good biography of a woman called Amelia Dyer who ‘specialised’ (if you can call it that) in this horrible horrible thing.
Infanticide out of desperation by a woman who has just given birth is one thing, infanticide for commercial gain quite another. Even the non-murderous baby farmers still fed the kids on gin to keep them quiet…
I feel so sorry for the mothers, many of whom looked in vain for the babies they were told had been adopted. Amelia Dyer’s mistake was to take in the baby of a governess who had become pregnant by the son of the house – he subsequently married her after she had given birth and given up the child, and the two of them came looking for their baby back and didn’t stop looking. Good for them.
I forgot about Effie Deans! Very harsh. And yet in 19th century Scotland a murderess like Madeline Smith could get off with a verdict of ‘not proven’…