An Illustrated History of Ireland from AD 400 to 1800 — Themes and Context

A Nun's Historical Vocation

Cusack's preface is unusually personal for a history. She thanks the clergy for promoting the work and notes that 'several of the English Catholic bishops have not been less kind and earnest in their commendations.' This clerical endorsement is not merely ornamental; it signals that the history was written from within a Catholic institutional perspective, and that its rapid success was seen as a rebuttal to accusations that Irish ecclesiastics neglected literature. The dedication to a judge and an abbess further underscores the blend of legal and religious authority that Cusack invokes.

The author's own voice emerges in her critique of English policy. When describing the 1536 Parliament, she writes that 'the men permitted to vote in Ireland according to royal directions' had already been cowed by a 'martial circuit.' Her phrasing—'a triumph obtained at the expense of truth'—is characteristic of her moralizing tone, which treats historical events as matters of eternal verity rather than mere political maneuvering.

Coercion and Parliamentary Maneuver

The excerpt on Henry VIII's Reformation is the most detailed in the supplied text. Cusack reproduces Sir John Davies's account of the 'martial circuit' and the acts that declared the king Supreme Head of the Church of Ireland, prohibited appeals to Rome, and suppressed monasteries. She then juxtaposes this official narrative with evidence of resistance: the clergy's proctors were so 'forward and obstinate' that Lords Grey and Brabazon wrote to Cromwell suggesting they be removed from Parliament. 'The means were easily found—the proctors were forbidden to vote,' Cusack notes dryly.

She reinforces her argument with a popular rhyme about the Franciscan friar Forrest, who was executed for denying the king's supremacy: 'Forrest, the fryar, / That obstinate lyar, / That wilfully will be dead.' The rhyme's crude doggerel contrasts with the legal language of the statutes, highlighting what Cusack sees as the gap between official justifications and brutal reality. She observes that neither king nor Parliament explained 'in what part of the Gospel the keys of the kingdom of heaven had been given to a temporal prince.'

Illustrations as Historical Argument

The list of full-page illustrations provides a visual index of Cusack's emphases. Subjects range from 'St. Patrick Going to Tara' and 'King Brian Boroimhe Killed by the Viking' to 'Massacre at Drogheda,' 'Ireton Condemning the Bishop of Limerick,' and 'O'Connell Refusing to Take the Oath.' The sequence moves from early Christian Ireland through Viking invasions, Norman conquest, and English atrocities, ending with nineteenth-century political figures. Notably, 'The Emigrants' Farewell' appears first, framing the entire history as a story of displacement.

Henry Doyle's illustrations are not merely decorative; they are integral to the work's argument. By including scenes of martyrdom and resistance—such as the bishop condemned by Ireton—Cusack visually reinforces her textual narrative of Irish suffering under English rule. The final illustration, 'Ireland and America,' suggests a transatlantic dimension to the story, linking Irish history to emigration and diaspora.

Cusack's history is best approached as a document of its time: a Catholic religious's attempt to reclaim Irish history from Protestant and English narratives. Readers should note that the preface's triumphal tone—boasting of 2,000 copies sold in three months—is itself a historical artifact, revealing the political and ecclesiastical pressures that shaped the work. The excerpts show a writer who is unafraid to call out what she sees as false witness, but who also relies on the authority of bishops and the approval of the Catholic press. For a full understanding, compare Cusack's account of the Reformation with contemporary Protestant histories to see how the same events could be narrated from opposing confessional positions.

Rain fell against the window while I turned pages of Cusack’s history, feeling her quiet fury at coerced reformations. That unease lingered, and later, almost by accident, I found myself reading History of the Franks — Story, Setting & Ideas, another tale of faith entangled with power, told in a different voice entirely. The afternoon dissolved into that older, stranger world.