When I understood that Doneraile Court: The Story of the Lady Freemason was a work of historical fiction, but meticulously researched and based on a true story, I was both surprised and intrigued, having never quite trusted the role of fiction in the acquisition of historical knowledge and understanding. I welcomed the challenge of questioning my own prejudices, and in that process, maybe finding another avenue for exploring aspects of history.
The Lady Freemason is an historical thread well worth pursuing, and Aldworth Foster, as a journalist, navigated her way around all the deadends to weave her research into a fictional account. In her Author’s Note she quotes historical fiction author, Geraldine Brooks: “Historical Fiction is taking the historical record as far as it is known, using that as scaffolding, and then letting imagination build the structure that fills in those things that we can never find out for sure.” This is exactly what Aldworth Foster has done.
The main protagonist / historical figure in Doneraile Court is the seventeen-year-old Elizabeth St Leger, and the events take place in 1712. As well as conveying an accurate depiction of the nuts and bolts management, shall we say, of the traditions and conventions of Freemasonry at that time, Doneraile Court also paints a picture of the social pecking order of society in rural Ireland at that time. 1712 was contemporaneous with the height and worst excesses of the Penal Laws, but in the description of the clandestine Catholic wedding held in the woods of the Protestant St Leger’s estate, the necessity of this secrecy is not put in an historical context for a reader unfamiliar with this period of Irish history. Aldworth Foster does say that the Protestant St Legers’ are breaking the law by attending, but the Penal Laws need to be mentioned by name here, and briefly explained, to put the “law breaking” in context. She does though, place the St Legers’ in the category of New English settlers in the Munster Plantation, who along with their fellow planters have a penchant for large comfortable houses rather than draughty castles.
Let there be no doubt then that Elizabeth St. Leger did exist – her portrait hangs in the museum of the Freemason Lodge on Molesworth Street in Dublin – and that Elizabeth St Leger did become a Freemason in an exclusively male fraternity, was toasted as such by the Cork brethren, and received a full Masonic funeral when she died at the age of eighty. She was buried in St Finbar’s Cathedral where you can still see her commemorative brass plaque.
Elizabeth St Leger’s story is well worth the telling, and in its telling, Aldworth Foster conveys the strict mechanics of freemasonry in very clear prose and accessible language – the room beyond the library that the curious Elizabeth is not allowed to enter, the secrecy, the codes, the oaths, the initiation rituals, the handshakes for different ranks, the pressure on Lord Doneraile to maintain the architecture and choreography of secrecy to preserve his own reputation and that of his family. Indeed, so desperate is Lord Donaraile to run a tight Freemason ship, that he is prepared to risk losing one of his sons by having him partake in the initiation ritual, which involves receiving a small cut with a sharp dagger, not so bad, unless like Lord Doneraille’s son, you have haemophilia, or, as they said in 1712, you are a bleeder. Here we learn about an early 18th century remedy of applying a paste made from sugar (a scarce and expensive food only for the very wealthy) and honey to staunch the bleeding. Tough luck then for the peasant haemophiliacs.
Yes, there may be a bit too much grass brushing ankles or skirts swishing in the wind, but Doneraile Court paints a very accurate picture of aspects of life and expectations for women in Ireland of 1712 – the kind of writing that might encourage younger readers and spark their interest in history – and if a writer can achieve this, they have achieved a lot.
Aldworth Foster describes Doneraile Court as a work of fiction, but as I said earlier, Elizabeth St Leger did exist and she did become a Freemason, as a result, apparently, of surreptitiously witnessing a Masonic initiation ceremony. Indeed, a poster in the museum of the Freemason Lodge on Molesworth Street concludes: “Unfortunately, all too often Masonic fact, on closer examination, becomes historical fiction.” In fairness to Aldworth Foster, she could only make an educated guess about the dramatic events surrounding the incident. She does this extremely well, and again, I think the telling of the tale would appeal greatly to younger readers. This novel would sit very well in the history section of any secondary school library, or in the young adult reader section of the public library. It’s the kind of book that could set a young person on an historical journey, and it could encourage them to perhaps investigate the topic for their Leaving Certificate essay project. Aldworth Foster sets a fine example for them with her extensive bibliographical references and diligent research. Fascinating allusions to everyday objects are also revealing, as, for example, the use of the frayed end of a willow twig to brush one’s teeth. This kind of attention to detail sparks an interest in younger readers.
Story telling is an important vehicle for teaching history to the enquiring young, or indeed to enthusiasts of all ages. Aldworth Foster’s clear prose and accessible language, segues into a history lesson, proving that often, but not always, the meeting of literature and history can be a useful vehicle. In this case it is. You will come away knowing a lot more about the history of freemasonry in early 18th century Ireland.
In conclusion, I recently attended a discussion at the Dublin Festival of History about Professor Dan Stone’s new book, The Holocaust: An Unfinished History. As professor of Modern History at Royal Holloway, University of London, Stone is not dismissive of all historical fiction. When asked by an audience member about the role of fiction in his area of historical interest, Stone replied that he tells his students they should read fiction. “I always read fiction. I think it’s an important way of making sense of the world. And so, as an historian, I am not worried about fiction. I think it does something different from history. People want to read fictionalised accounts of historical phenomena. I think that’s okay.”
Incidentally, Aldworth Foster even incudes a puzzle at the end of the book involving decoding messages from cyphers placed throughout the book; another learning activity to pique the curiosity of younger students in a fun way. As any educational historian will tell you, there is more than one way to learn.
Berni Dwan broadcasts about literature and history on Near FM 90.3. Her most recent BAI-funded projects include:
Hungry Gap, Fat Friars, Food Poverty
Hedge Schools Beyond the Shrubbery
Growing Up Between the Dustjackets
A Fishy Tale of Sound and Fury
Women's History Association of Ireland 