Athenry News & Views Summer 2026

Athenry News & Views

Peter Broderick of Ivymount House, Athenry a farmer and merchant was lodged in Galway Jail on suspicion of promoting boycotting in 1881. In a meticulously kept account of each day from November to March, he recorded the rigours of his arrest and incarceration; his dealings with prison staff, fellow prisoners and visitors, his thoughts on the developing political situation, and details about the gaol. His diary is a revelation of the deprivations of body and mind in prison; the effects of news about life outside on prisoners; the concern shown by newspapers, politicians and friends and a relatively humane regime at Galway Jail. “Christmas wouldn’t be right without a drop of something. Peter ‘attacked number one bottle previously in my box. I boiled a saucepan of water over the gas jet, got sugar and all other essentials for a good tumbler and my efforts were quite successful. I could not but Feel amused even though the gloom and the solitude then around me as I indulged in the illegality of my acts. With ‘United Irishman’ in one hand and John Jameson’s best in the other I thought to drown grief....... Did the drink work wonders? No. “When the heart is full of home associations, full of memories of the past, I find it difficult with even the enticing stimulants in my possession to forget all - the memory of this night twelve months is fresh before me and when I consider the position I feel sad.” From thoughts of home sprung a real and deeper loss: “my wants tended to be at my own fireside by the loving hand of a fond mother. When I miss her sweet face, who was ever beaning with love and smiles, her placid countenance is fresh before my mind as she lay is the sleep of death last summer. Her absence from the Circle of home is sad but I know she has gone to a better world.” That heavy load on his heart - found consolation in the idea flashing across his mind of all the trials, all the bitterness and all the indignities, He whose birth we were on the eve of celebrating had to endure, I had to encounter for our sake.” Pitiful thoughts of old times and all the old scenes of former days vividly arose before his mind as he eventually fell asleep, dozing placidly away when on the midnight air came the glad tidings that the anniversary of the Saviour was at hand. The joy birds were gladly proclaiming the blessed tidings and I fancied at that moment, when their brazen tongues were proclaiming “Peace on Earth to Men of Good Will”, how hard it was for me with the shadow of my prison bars on my ceiling and the general aspect of my abode.” Peter was awake early on Christmas morning and felt glad the blessed day had dawned. At Mass at 8 p.m., read by Father Newell “who preached a rather poor sermon”. Breakfast consisted of “a dry loaf and a sausage” and he gave away to two fellow prisoners - J. Sweeney and P. Tully - portion of turkey received the previous evening. Obviously, from the evidence of the hangovers on St. Stephen’s Day, Peter and his friends had indulged The Broderick Files Part2 By: John Flatley (Connacht Tribune)

considerably in alcohol during Christmas Day. Some had ‘aching heads and sleepy eyed; others were ‘in a bad way and to all appearances no remedy at hand; another’ completely annihilated from an overdose of port. On January 6, 1882, Twelfth Day, the last day of Christmas Peter Broderick mused that Christmas “will be perhaps the most remarkable one in my life …I hope that never again will it be spent under such circumstances - though if need be for the profession of my principle’s, ‘Justice for all”, the sacrifice is ever ready to be made unmindful of consequences.” Arrival at Galway Prison In the darkness that enveloped Galway Jail on the night of Wednesday, November 9. 1881, the gates of that “hospitable mansion’ were thrown open and Peter P. Broderick of Athenry was hurried inside as prisoner, a political suspect, suspected as principal of inciting to boycotting under the Act previously passed that year ‘For the Better Protection of Person and Property in Ireland’. Peter was shopkeeper and farmer. He was hurried in the Governor’s Office where the Warden showed the warrant to the Governor, from the Governor back to the Constable and from the Constable to the Chief Warden. In the office the charge was road, entered in a “huge book’ and a receipt of Broderick’s delivery signed and given to the Constable. In the office with two chief wardens - distinguished by the gold braid on their caps and the glittering crown on their coat collars - as well as a clerk. registered Peter Broderick’s age, complexion, colour of hair, eyes, appearance and all the “hue and cry evidences. His height was measured at five feet eight inches. He handed over his possessions, two one pound notes and a penknife. Chief Warden Number One searched for other possessions but found nothing else. Then followed the lost act in the day’s drama, Peter Broderick being marched from the office to his cell, a trip that took him through the whole house. His first impressions? “The repeated banging of doors, clinking of keys and martial tread of office bearers”. The gas was burning in his cell the bed prepared and he was locked in. Prison Cell He looked around and measured the cell, sixteen feet long by five-and-a-half feet wide. the bed was placed on a kind of camp stool or folding bedstead. It comprised a straw

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