Ireland's Darkest Secret; The Mother and Baby Home Scandal

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” — Matthew 19:14

In 2013, Irish historian Catherine Corless obtained the death certificates for 796 children who had died in the Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home between the years 1925 and 1961. She found only two corresponding burial records.

Her discovery and subsequent research put the tranquil market town of Tuam, County Galway at the centre of an investigation that took five years and spanned 18 institutions that were once designated as Mother and Baby Homes. On January 12th 2020, a 2865 page document finally revealed the true extent of the trauma inflicted on these extremely vulnerable women and children at the hands of the State and the Church Of Ireland.

Despite the outward appearance of Mother and Baby Homes across Ireland as a place of refuge for unwed women and their children, pious morality warped these institutions into incredibly harsh and cruel environments for the residents.

The report documents the appalling conditions faced by the occupants of the homes — from malnutrition and unsanitary environments to unpaid labour and emotional abuse.

It also documents the shockingly high infant mortality rates within these institutions and the disparity between the number of ‘illegitimate’ infant deaths and those of ‘legitimate’ children.

We see that these women and children were not only treated atrociously but that illegitimate babies born into these homes faced a significantly higher risk of death. In the years 1945 to 1946 the mortality rate for illegitimate infants within Mother and Baby Homes reached twice the national average.

On March 3rd 2017 it was announced that multiple human remains had been found during an investigative excavation at the Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home in Tuam. Forensic testing confirmed that the deceased had died during the time that the site was operational as a Mother and Baby Home, and not during the building’s previous roles as a workhouse or military barracks.

The remains were found within an underground structure that appeared to be a septic tank.

No tolerance and no sympathy

Since Ireland became an independent state in 1922 — then known as the Irish Free State — there was an impetus to establish a staunch, traditionally moral society. At this time attitudes towards conventional standards were changing across the world, largely thanks to post-WWI economic prosperity. Ireland’s response to these changes can be seen in subsequent legislation that prohibited divorce, contraception, and blasphemy — along with widely employed censorship laws. Homosexuality and abortion remained illegal under prevailing 19th-century laws.

These laws were supported by a heavy Catholic presence within Ireland that condemned the evil modern world, and the sexual liberation that accompanied it. All Irish women faced discrimination and few choices during this time, but single pregnant women faced the harshest criticisms and treatment. These women were viewed as immoral, dirty, and sinful — a stain on good Catholic society.

An estimated 56,000 women passed through 18 institutions between 1922 and 1998, ranging in age from 12 to 45. Some of them had been raped, some had mental health problems, and some were intellectually disabled. Some feared their families ever finding out and entered the homes to protect their secret. Most of the women were simply young, unmarried, and with families who had cast them out. Many of them were destitute. All of them had nowhere else to turn.

The stigma attached to unmarried pregnancy was so great it led some women to infanticide, at times assisted by family members, in order to disguise an illegitimate birth. There was no tolerance and no sympathy for women who found themselves in this position, and the report contains many accounts of the social shame and hostility that faced these women and their babies.

A picture emerges from the many witness statements of a society that held devout moral propriety above all else and was willing to denounce and debase children in the name of faith. Illegitimate offspring were labelled as Devil’s children and the spawn of Satan, publicly shamed and alienated.

They were treated in death as they were in life; without respect, without care, and without dignity.

The clergy and the various Holy Orders that managed the homes were complicit in encouraging families to turn away pregnant unwed relatives, stigmatise the mothers and children, and fostering a culture of secrecy around the issue to protect the family from shame. The influence of Catholic morality resonated throughout the fabric of Irish society at this time.

The consequence of this influence can be seen in the many pages of this tragic report. There are multiple accounts of child malnourishment, neglect, accidental death, improper medical care, and Dickensian environments. The illegitimate children inside these homes were treated as a sub-species by the holy sisters charged with their care. As stated in the report; ‘In the years before 1960 mother and baby homes did not save the lives of ‘illegitimate’ children; in fact, they appear to have significantly reduced their prospects of survival.’

This callous disregard for the child residents continued after they were dead.

Hospital records show that bodies of illegitimate children below the age of one were allotted neither coffin nor plot for burial, but were placed within the coffins of deceased adult patients or amputated limbs. Some of them were simply interred into unmarked graves on the grounds of homes or hospitals. They were treated in death as they were in life; without respect, without care, and without dignity.

In 2010, the remains of over 200 infants were found in an unmarked pauper’s grave, believed to be the children who died while resident at Bethany Home, Dublin. At least 1,024 children died at Sean Ross Abbey during its time as a Mother and Baby Home from 1932 to 1970 — so far the remains of 42 infants have been found during a forensic archaeological investigation of the site in 2019.

The people of Tuam, Galway are still waiting for an excavation to take place to reveal the number of children that were denied respectful burial by the Congregation of the Sisters of Bon Secours.

At the mercy of the system

For the children that did survive, and the women who were now tarnished within their communities as immoral, the report contains many accounts of their lives beyond the Mother and Baby Homes.

The primary mission of the homes was to promote reform among the women that found themselves at the mercy of the system. It was believed that a woman who found herself in this position would turn to a life of prostitution, which would produce further illegitimate children. The goal was to prevent these women from repeating their mistakes.

According to witness statements within the report, the pregnant women were treated like animals and regularly subject to emotional or physical abuse. They were taunted, verbally abused, left to bleed on hospital beds while the Sisters attended married women, and tied down during labour. One woman stated that a nun had sat on her chest to help her push the baby out. Another woman was badly cut and then stitched up with half of the afterbirth still inside her. It seems the prevalent method of reform was shame and mistreatment.

First-time mothers who survived may find themselves able to return to the family home but were expected to give up their child. As most of these women were poor, and the putative fathers generally refused to acknowledge the pregnancy, acquiring money to secure rehoming for the child was rare.

One woman stated that a nun had sat on her chest to help her push the baby out. Another woman was badly cut and then stitched up with half of the afterbirth still inside her.

Prior to 1954, adoption was not legal and children were fostered to local families in a process known as boarding out. Children were often sent to live with families who would use them as free labour, and found themselves subject to isolation and persecution. They were dressed differently from other children, called ‘bastard’, and regularly shamed. Although there are some accounts of children that found caring foster families, they were generally shunned and viewed as burdensome even when the family was receiving payment for their care.

In some cases the child’s father could be persuaded, usually by a member of the clergy, to provide money for the fostering, in others the child’s maternal family covered the cost. Often it was the mother who was expected to pay for the child’s upkeep with the foster family. The Church and State had a few solutions for the women in this position if they were unable to find work — they could provide unpaid labour for the workhouse, or they could join one of the many institutions known as the Magdalene Laundries.

These large commercial laundries, operated by the Church across Ireland, offered ‘fallen women’ the opportunity to keep their child, or children, out of the workhouse in exchange for labour. The institutions housed various types of women that the Church and State wished to segregate from good, Catholic people. Women who engaged in prostitution or promiscuity, who had illegitimate children, who had been cast out by their families, or who were themselves illegitimate. The women were not paid, mothers were not allowed to have their children with them, and once admitted they were unable to leave.

Being the only option left to provide a life for their child, or a punishment for sinful repeat offenders, these laundries became the final, gruelling destination for approximately 30,000 Irish women.

Buried in shame and secrecy

Catherine Corless, the woman who sparked the investigation with her unrelenting desire to uncover the truth about the Bon Secours Mother and Baby Home, has faced criticism and backlash over the years. She has been told to leave the matter alone, that she should end her research and let the bodies of the children remain where they are — buried in shame and secrecy. When her findings appeared in the national media, she was informed that she had upset the older religious members of the Bon Secours Holy Order and that her information was untrue.

Even though the Republic of Ireland has seen a swathe of legal changes in recent years that have brought the country in line with most of Europe, a heavy Catholic presence remains within the attitudes of the nation — especially within the more rural areas. There is a reluctance to directly point a finger at the Holy Orders who managed these institutions and demand answers, and a sense of reverence surrounding the clergy remains. Despite this report being the sixth investigation into allegations of abuse and mistreatment perpetrated by religious figures and holy orders since 2005, there is unwillingness to cast blame upon the Church.

Apologies have been made by the Taoiseach, Micheál Martin, and the leader of the Catholic Church in Ireland, Eamon Martin, but no criminal investigations have been launched, and the church has not been asked to contribute to the state-run redress scheme.

There are calls for church assets to be seized, and for further forensic inspections to take place at other Mother and Baby Homes, along with hospitals that were also run by Holy Orders. Most importantly, people are waiting for the septic tank at the Bon Secours site to be excavated, and the remains to be investigated and provided with proper, dignified burial.

The story of these lost children of Ireland must be told, the cruelty they faced and the disregard for their lives must be remembered.

For 76 years, these institutions operated as part of a larger system that was designed, and permitted, to punish and isolate ‘bad’ women and illegitimate children from the rest of society. For 76 years these women and children were silenced by the system, and even now there are people who would have them remain that way. Out of fear of shame, or fear of upsetting the Church, some people would rather let this story of mistreatment and injustice remain buried.

Divorce, gay marriage and abortion may now be legal, but there are communities that retain ideas and behaviours of 20th century Ireland. Around 15 years ago, an uncle on my dad’s side passed away in rural County Carlow. He was in his late 40’s and his family informed us that it had been an accidental death. We later found out he had committed suicide. The sense of shame felt by his family had driven them to lie about his death.

Shame is a prevailing theme within the dozens of witness statements from both parent and child survivors of the institutions. Used as a weapon in families, schools, churches, and social groups — shame was employed liberally throughout Ireland for decades and it lingers still.

While the Church was responsible for directly running the homes, the State was responsible for adequate funding, inspection and regulation. What is important now is that the Irish government does everything it can to make amends for the crimes that were allowed to be committed. Every person who wishes to trace relatives who were lost to this system should be provided with the ability to do so. A good starting place would be a public database containing all available records associated with the Mother and Baby Homes.

No expense should be spared when it comes to forensic archaeological investigation, excavation, analysis, DNA testing, and respectful reinternment of all remains. New lines of inquiry that examine allegations of illegal child trafficking, other Mother and Baby Homes in the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, and all Holy Orders involved with social welfare programmes need to be opened.

Above all, the world should know the truth about the 113,000 women and children who suffered horrific treatment at the hands of the Church, the State, and society. The story of the lost children of Ireland and their mothers must be told. The cruelty they faced and the disregard for their lives must be remembered. For those who are gone, we must be their voice and continue to demand answers until there are no more questions.

“The shame was not theirs — it was ours. It was our shame that we did not show them the respect and compassion which we as a country owed them. It remains our shame.” — Micheál Martin, Taoiseach, January 13th 2020

Unless a source is linked, the information provided is taken from the Mother and Baby Homes Commission of Investigation Final Report, 30 October 2020.