Trevor Laffan: 'Our grandparents sparked holy wrath in their dance hall days'

I would love an opportunity for a chat with my grandparents.

They’re all long dead now so that’s not going to happen, but if it was possible, I would have some questions for them about their behaviour in their teenage years. It seems to me they’d have some explaining to do.

I would never have described my grandparents as hellraisers. I knew my father’s father quite well. He lived in Midleton, and he was a big man with a full head of white hair. My grandmother was a small woman, and I always thought both of them were quiet souls.

I didn’t get to know them until they were older, so I have no idea what they were like as youngsters, but now I’m suspicious.

If the bishops of Ireland are to be believed, the youth of the day back in the 1920s were a wild bunch.

In 1924, in the run up to Lent, The Freeman’s Journal published some of the Lenten Pastoral messages from the bishops.

They had a common theme, warning parents against questionable amusements which menace the morals of young people.

They had a thing about dance halls and cinemas too, which they suggested were responsible for all sorts of evil doings.

Most Rev. Dr Morrisroe, Bishop of Achonry in the west of Ireland, wrote: “In the wake of recent events there has come unhappily, a lamentable loosening of the bonds of parental control.

“Boys and girls, these days long before manhood or girlhood is reached, ignore all forms of authority, respecting the advice of neither parent ‘nor pastor’.

“Apparently, they come to and fro in the home at any hour of the day or night that suits them. In general, they seem to do, not what pleases their parents, but what is agreeable to themselves.

“This is not as it used to be and is much to be regretted.”

When it came to public dancing, the bishop also had some serious concerns. “The amusements in which young people of both sexes indulge sometimes are of the most questionable character. This is what frequently happens. A few boys come for the use of a school room to hold a dance or rather an orgy. If the school is refused, the doors are promptly broken open.

“Then, under no control whatsoever except such as may be exercised by the lock-breakers, the fun goes on fast and furiously to the small hours of the morning.

“Intoxicants are often introduced to kill any vestige of the moral sense. The possibilities for evil offered in such situations are evident. “

His Eminence Cardinal Logue, Primate of All Ireland in his pastoral letter, had a serious warning for parents too. “If those who are charged with the care of the young permit their boys and girls to be exposed to this corrupting influence, to frequent those dangerous places, to be out late at night, or all night, to go and return without proper guardianship, Almighty God will hold them responsible for the consequences.”

Emphasising the necessity of self-control and of penance, Most Rev. Dr Hoare, Bishop of Ardagh and Clonmacnoise, took a tough stance and declared that there ought to be no amusements during Lent. “We should have nothing to do with any amusement that is indecent or leads to indecency. I would say to you. Beware of the dance.”

Bishop Hoare missed the old days. “In former times, dances were held it one’s own house, with the neighbours and parents assisting. Now they are held in the Public Hall, without supervision. I have no hesitation in saying that these pastimes are a disgrace to our religion and to our civilisation.”

He regretted that the dances were not clean, healthy, traditional Irish dances.

“They are,” he said, “importations from the vilest dens of London, Paris and New York, direct and unmistakable incitements to evil thoughts, evil desires, and the grossest acts of impurity.”

Most Rev. Dr Gilmartin, Archbishop of Tuam, worried about young people “in particular those silly girls who make toys of themselves to amuse boys, and who in defiance of their parents’ commands remain out after dark in dangerous surroundings.”

He had a solution though. “Not only the girls but the boys should be always home in time for the family Rosary. And it is a very cold house in which the father, mother, children and household do not all join together every night at a fixed hour in laying this crown of roses at the feet of God’s mother.”

Dance halls weren’t the only places where our grandparents went astray. Cinemas were also to be avoided.

Most Rev. Dr McKenna, Bishop of Clogher, impressed upon parents the great importance of safeguarding their children from threats to the purity and innocence of their souls.

“It is not easy,” he said, “to safeguard them in the cinema. It is not always angels that appear on the screen, nor is the conduct there always angelic.

“There is urgent need for the most rigorous censorship of pictures to which children are admitted.”

This attitude of the clergy towards dances won’t surprise many of our older readers, but will sound completely alien to younger people. Yet, it’s not that long ago that slow dances, or ‘clingers’ as we called them, were closely monitored by adults.

In the early 1970s, we had regular ‘club nights’ in our local tennis club as young teenagers. We basically got together, had soft drinks and played music on an old record player. All completely innocent.

Later in the evening, we would finish off with a dance, which was usually supervised by adults who would walk among us, particularly for the slow sets.

I can remember being cautioned on a number of occasions for getting too close to my partner during the slow dances.

I blame my grandparents for my outrageous behaviour.