Contents
Foreword
1
1 The
Case of Tanistry 5
2 An
Empty Dish 21
3 The
Office of the Chief Herald 41
4 The
Mac Carthy Mór 57
5 Cashel
of the Kings 73
6 The
Italian Verdicts 87
7 The
Cyber-Kingdom of Desmond 103
8
Exposure 121
9 More
Questionable Chiefs 139
10
Freedom of Information 159
11
Epilogue 181
Appendix
1 Succession to the Title of Mac Carthy Mór 201
Appendix
2 A Register of Irish Chiefs 207
Appendix
3 Irish Heraldic Officials 217
Appendix
4 Glossary 219
Sources
221
Index
241
Illustrations between pages 138 and 139
Although a few voices have been raised in
opposition, Terence
MacCarthy is finally about to be recognised as a chief . . .
There was at least one individual who was concerned
over the prospect of Terence MacCarthy securing recognition as a chief
from the Office of the Chief Herald, namely, the author Valerie Bary,
who resides in County Kerry. Mrs Bary wrote to Chief Herald Begley
outlining her objections, but this correspondence is no longer extant
in the Office. However, copies of other letters in the writer’s
possession confirm the fact of Mrs Bary’s intervention. Thus as
early as September 1982 she replied to a letter sent by Terence
MacCarthy stating that she was ‘rather appalled by it’, and
advising him that he could not call himself Mac Carthy Mór
without presenting proof of descent. In April 1991 Mrs Bary wrote
as follows to another correspondent:
We are challenging not only Terence,
but Samuel Trant McCarthy’s right to claim the title of MacCarthy
Mór. Data have been sent to the Chief Herald and I have been
given other authorities to appeal to if we make no headway there.
Perhaps at least partly because he was now being accepted by people in
high places, Mrs Bary’s opposition could safely be ignored by
Chief Herald Begley, and MacCarthy’s wait for recognition was
about to come to an end. In addition, the heraldic expert Gerard Crotty
was an important adviser and liaison with the Office of the Chief
Herald during the process of gaining recognition, and his advocacy must
have helped MacCarthy’s cause. By late October 1991 it was clear
that the process of granting recognition was in its final stages, as
MacCarthy was making corrections to a draft pedigree sent to him by
Deputy Chief Herald Fergus Gillespie. MacCarthy insisted that his
grandfather succeeded Samuel Trant McCarthy as Mac Carthy Mór in
1927, and that after his grandfather’s death in 1947 his father
had been chief until 1980, when MacCarthy himself had succeeded.
Reinforcing the point, MacCarthy declared, ‘If I did not insist
on these particular amendments the pedigree would be a published libel
against my father and grandfather, both of whom used the title’.
There was one other delicate matter requiring adjustment, namely,
MacCarthy’s place of residence: ‘I do not wish to be
described as “of Belfast” as I am ONLY of “Tangier in
the Kingdom of Morocco”. Belfast has such a notorious name I do
not want it spoiling my pedigree!’.
The Office of the Chief Herald finally produced for
MacCarthy on 28 January 1992 a certificate of his recognition by
courtesy as Mac Carthy Mór, which took the form of a document
headed with his title and arms, followed by a pedigree commencing with
Oengus, King of Munster who died about 490 AD, and concluding with
Terence himself. Nothing if not obliging, the Office of the Chief
Herald decided not to spoil the effect by including the dread name of
Belfast, stating only that Terence was ‘resident in Tangier,
Kingdom of Morocco’. The document was completed with the
signatures of both Chief Herald Begley and Deputy Chief Herald
Gillespie, and the official seal of the Office of the Chief Herald.
On 16 June 1999
the author issues a report exposing the falsity of MacCarthy's claim to
chiefship . . .
The Sunday Times
has a track record of publishing pieces relating to genealogy, covering
for example the controversy over the sale of feudal titles in England.
It was decided therefore to bring the story to the attention of the
Irish Office of this newspaper first, and a copy of the completed
MacCarthy report was duly posted off. The newspaper reacted with a
speed which frankly surprised me, and I was telephoned by the
journalist John Burns within a day. Burns indicated that he was already
well acquainted with the facts of the MacCarthy case, and confirmed my
view that serious irregularities were involved. Burns also stated that
it was planned to publish an article on the subject in the next edition
of the newspaper, and that as well as speaking to Chief Herald O
Donoghue, he was endeavouring to contact MacCarthy.
Burns’s story appeared in the Irish Edition of
the Sunday Times of 20 June
1999, and a fairly devastating piece of
journalism it turned out to be. Burns reported that in an
‘unprecedented climbdown’, O Donoghue was expected to strip
MacCarthy of recognition within a month. O Donoghue was quoted as
confirming that he had been investigating the case for two years,
following the receipt of Barry Trant McCarthy’s counter-claim to
the chiefship. The article was accompanied by a photograph of O Donoghue
outside the National Library, with another of the present
writer, and a third of MacCarthy with President Mary Robinson and her
husband during their encounter in Cashel in 1996. Burns also revealed
the circumstances in which Terence’s elder brother Anthony
‘Boot’ MacCarthy had died in 1987, and the fact that
Terence’s partner Andrew Davison had been imprisoned for
blackmail.
The Sunday Times
article cited the present writer’s report as well, describing its
author accurately enough as ‘a Wicklow genealogist working
independently of the Chief Herald’. My main conclusions were
reproduced, namely, that MacCarthy’s claim to be a chief was not
proven, that he came of a relatively humble Belfast family with no
proven connection to the MacCarthys of Munster, and that the decision
by a former Chief Herald to recognise him was wrong and should be
rescinded. There were others in the small world of Irish genealogy who
knew all this and more, but the important point is that none were
willing to stick their heads above the parapet and go on the record
with a documented presentation of the facts.
Terence has
'abdicated' as Mac Carthy Mór and retired back to Morocco, where
the late Pete McCarthy pays him a visit . . .
The humorous writer Pete McCarthy’s second
book on things relating to his surname features Terence MacCarthy in a
prominent role [The Road to McCarthy,
Hodder & Stoughton, London 2002, Chapter 4]. Pete has succeeded in
getting closer than most to the now ‘abdicated’ Terence,
tracking him down in Tangier with the assistance of his brothers Conor
and Tommy MacCarthy from Belfast. Pete arrives by appointment to meet
the former chief at his ‘pink-walled villa’ on the
outskirts of the city, and Terence appears to greet him, ‘a
large, rotund man in his forties, smiling and jolly, wearing a
well-pressed V-neck woollie over a collar and tie, fixed with what
looks like a diamond tie pin’. While Conor is now, as we have
seen, ostensibly the new ‘Mac Carthy Mór’, Pete
notices that he and his brother Tommy both defer to Terence. Also
present are Andrew Davison and his mother Betty, introduced by Terence
as his ‘cousins’ before they depart diplomatically for a
dinner appointment. Although clearly not convinced of Terence’s
authenticity, Pete is greatly entertained by his diatribes against
English kings, the Roman Catholic Church and modern Republicans, who
were together allegedly responsible for crushing ‘all that was
indigenous and Gaelic’. As for his own abdication or overthrow,
Terence claims to have been targeted on account of his ‘political
ideas’ and ‘for denouncing the hijack of the Gaelic chiefs
by the heritage and tourism industries’.
Back in Ireland, Pete meets another and unnamed
chief who has been making it his business to expose Terence, and who
hands over a dossier with the mysterious comment: ‘These
documents are not in the public domain. They were secretly photocopied
in Irish government departments. If asked, I will deny they came from
me.’ While we should allow for the licence which the author may
have allowed himself to reconstruct dialogue, it has been demonstrated
in the preceding chapter that official documents relating to Terence
MacCarthy were indeed strategically leaked. Alas, the weighty dossier
of exposure is lost on Pete, as after a few minutes reading about the
Niadh Nask, primogeniture, King Zog of Albania, and so forth, he puts
it to one side, has a whiskey and falls asleep watching television.
Unfortunately, the Mac Carthy
Mór case is not the only irregularity to have occurred in the
Office of the Chief Herald . . .
Again, some of the records which were released under
the Freedom of
Information Act enabled me to see how my criticisms of the handling of
the chiefs and allied scandals were being fielded in official
correspondence. A letter of the Chief Herald dated June 2000 declared
that ‘the allegation that numbers of bogus pedigrees, arms and
titles
have been registered in the Genealogical Office is one which is
routinely made by Sean Murphy and by him alone’, and that
‘no evidence
to support sweeping allegations of this kind has been produced’.
The
first part of this statement was certainly factually correct, for I was
indeed virtually a lone voice, but the assertion that I had produced no
evidence to support my charges required a rebuttal. In the first place,
I put it to the Chief Herald that my documented series of reports on
the Mac Carthy Mór, Maguire and other chiefships alone amply
supported
my charge of multiple false registrations. Taking into consideration
other impostors validated by his Office, such as Andrew Davison and
Thomas Foran, and my case looked stronger still. When one considered as
well the Office’s acceptance of ‘feudal lordships’,
my charges appeared
rather well founded. But that was not the end of the matter, for when
my itemisation of the Office’s rubber stamping of the Duchess of
Braganza’s spurious grants was taken into account, my case was
irrefutable, and the above quoted comments were themselves clearly
shown to be groundless. Furthermore, given that, as the Chief Herald
had earlier put it, I had ‘uncovered only a fraction of what is
there
to be turned up’, who knows what other irregularities remain to
be
discovered.
The Chief Herald
and the Government decide to abandon the procedure of recognising
chiefs . . .
Subsequent to the withdrawal of recognition from
Terence MacCarthy in 1999, periodic questions by opposition politicians
in the Dáil had kept the chiefs issue in view. Thus in response
to a parliamentary question put by Eamonn Gilmore TD, Minister
O’Donoghue indicated in December 2002 that the Attorney General
had now provided legal advice on the matter of recognising chiefs which
was being considered by the Chief Herald. Responding to a further
question on recognition of chiefs put down by Jimmy Deenihan TD,
Minister O’Donoghue declared in May 2003, ‘I hope to come
to a decision in the matter in the near future’. The evidence of
growing detachment had been plain to see for some time, so there was no
real surprise when it emerged that in line with a recommendation of
Director/Chief Herald O Donoghue and the Council of Trustees of the
National Library, the Government had decided at a Cabinet meeting on 23
July 2003 to sanction the discontinuation of the practice of granting
courtesy recognition to chiefs. A spokesman for Minister
O’Donoghue was quoted as stating that ‘in view of the lack
of legal powers, and as the practice of granting (sic) courtesy
titles has little in common with a modern state, it should be
discontinued’.
In an explanatory letter to the chiefs, sent be it
noted after the public revelation that courtesy recognition was being
discontinued, Director/Chief Herald O Donoghue summarised the advice of
the Office of the Attorney General (current incumbent Rory Brady) as
follows:
There is not, and never was, any
statutory or legal basis for the practice of granting courtesy
recognition as chief of the name; in the absence of an appropriate
basis in law, the practice of granting courtesy recognition should not
be continued by the Genealogical Office; and even if a sound legal
basis for the system existed, it would not be permissible for me [the
Chief Herald] to review and reverse decisions made by a previous Chief
Herald except in particular situations, for example, where decisions
were based on statements or documents which were clearly false or
misleading in material respects.
The
thoroughness of the purge was demonstrated by the subsequent removal of
every one of the banners of chiefs which had been on display in the
Heraldic Museum in Kildare Street.
The author makes
a case for the reintroduction of some system of validating claims to
chiefship . . .
While there should be no question of authentic Irish
chiefs receiving any special privileges, their venerable titles are a
reminder of a lost aristocratic Gaelic world, and a valuable part of
our heritage which should be recognised as such in a cultured Republic.
If MacLysaght’s system of courtesy recognition is to be
reinstated, as the present writer believes it should be, strict and
well defined procedures for making application will have to be put in
place. In short, to be successful, applicants for recognition will have
to demonstrate conclusively that they are the senior, and for the
present at least, male descendants of the last duly inaugurated chief.
Each applicant for courtesy recognition of chiefship proper should be
required to submit a detailed and professionally compiled pedigree in a
specified format, citing documentary sources and indeed appending
copies of same, as well as providing evidence that all reasonable
efforts have been made to trace possibly more senior lines of the
family.
The need for such a system of validation is
demonstrated by a case which has recently come to prominence, namely,
the claim of Tom Sweeney to be The Mac Sweeney Doe. As noted in an
earlier chapter, the scholar John O’Donovan recorded the pedigree
of a claimant to the chiefship in 1835, and it is Sweeney’s case
that he is the senior descendant of that individual. Although the
Office of the Chief Herald is no longer formally involved in
recognising chiefs, Sweeney’s website features supportive pieces
by personnel associated with the Office, namely Deputy Chief Herald
Fergus Gillespie and genealogical consultant Máire MacConghail.
The latter is stated to have been nominated by the Chief Herald to
investigate Sweeney’s case, and extracts from her report are
quoted as effectively validating his claim to chiefship. Yet there are
problems, including the fact that O’Donovan’s pedigree
appears to be a generation short and is not supported by documentation,
matters which it has not proved possible to clarify. It is also
interesting to note that the ‘official’ Sweeney Clan now
ignores Tom Sweeney’s claim, but continues to recognise the
claims of Loughlin Sweeney and Richard Mingo Sweeney to be chiefs of
the Fanad and Banagh branches, and appoints an ‘honorary’
Mac Sweeney Doe.
For reasons already set out, we cannot look to the
Office of the Chief Herald as it stands for any initiative to restore
MacLysaght’s system of courtesy recognition. Perhaps the newly
structured Board of the National Library might be persuaded, with
Government approval, to have a committee revisit the matter of
verifying chiefships in the future. Of course the restoration of the
system of courtesy recognition of chiefs devised by Edward MacLysaght
would require suitable adjustments to take account of modern
conditions, and the full range of options could be considered by such a
committee.
Extracts from pages 63-65, 124-25,
161-62, 177-78, 190-91,
194-95;
footnoted references
and a full sources list are given in the book.