Analysis: A campaign by the Catholic Church to bring in a licensing system for dancing saw the enactment of the Public Dance Halls Act in 1935
1935 saw the Italian invasion of Abyssinia (modern-day Ethiopia), the anti-Semitic Nuremberg Laws in Germany, and a so-called "Trial of the Century", in which Richard Hauptmann (dubbed "the most hated man in the world") was found guilty of the abduction and murder of the Lindbergh baby, Charles Jr, in the United States.
But when an editorial in the Catholic newspaper The Standard wrote about "a source of evil of the first magnitude", it was not discussing Mussolini, Hitler or Hauptmann. It was, rather, referring to the humble Irish dance hall. These ballrooms of romance, the editorial writer claimed, have done "more than any other single agency to demoralise the countryside".
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From RTÉ Documentary On One, Down With Jazz revisits the anti-jazz campaign of the 1930s which called on the Government to close the dance halls and ban all foreign dances in Ireland (first broadcast 1997)
The editorial, written in August 1935, noted the passage some six months earlier of the Public Dance Halls Act (1935), which replaced the 1890 Public Health Act, whose enforcement The Standard condemned as "irregular and lax". This new piece of legislation, which still remains on the Irish statue book 90 years on, was the culmination of a long campaign by the Catholic Church to introduce a licensing system for dancing in Ireland.
Much of this crusade played out in The Standard. That 1935 editorial approvingly observed that the legislation gave district justices the power "to restore order where chaos reigned", and to "win back the fair name of Ireland for chivalry and purity". The judges could, the editorial writer said, remove "gross abuses", minimise dangers and protect the unwary.
"No one wants to deprive our young men and young women of the pleasure of the dance, which makes such universal appeal; but no one wants to lead them into temptation in ill-regulated halls," the editorial concluded.
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From RTÉ Radio 1's Morning Ireland, Sean McDermott from Glenfarne Community Development on the 90th birthday celebrations of the famed Rainbow Ballroom of Romance in Co Leitrim
The idea that "no one wants to deprive our young men and young women of the pleasure of the dance" would have come as a surprise to those closely reading The Standard. Its editorial page, letters page and news pages were full of condemnatory statements about dance halls.
Pseudonymous letters to the editor were a frequent source of "moral panic" in The Standard, which was published weekly between 1928 and 1978. As early as June 1928, a letter from 'Paterfamilias, Clonmel’, complained that dance halls had "sprung up like mushrooms in all our country villages", most of them "built by private individuals as money-making concerns" with "very little supervision". A letter from ‘Pioneer, Dublin’, argued that "the dance evil" was "worse than bad literature" (or evil literature, as ‘immoral’ material imported from Britain was dubbed).
Members of the Irish hierarchy often devoted part of their Lenten pastoral letters to the topic. In February 1929, the Bishop of Achonry, Patrick Morrisroe, referred to dance halls as an incitement to immoral conduct. He worried about "the possibilities arising from promiscuous mingling of the sexes under conditions so favourable for the machinations of wily corrupters from far and near".
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From RTÉ Archives, Anne Marie Smyth reports for RTÉ News on the reopening of the Ierne Ballroom on Dublin's Parnell Street in 2007
Clerical comment on dance halls came in the district courts too. In February 1931, a priest in Dundalk expressed strong opposition to the granting of a licence for a dance hall, and spoke of "the grave evils arising very largely from dancing". The following September, the parish priest of Duagh in Co. Kerry said at Listowel District Court that dance halls should be "closed down altogether".
Clerical appeals to alter the operating hours, dates and regulations of dances also occurred at courts in Kilkenny and Athenry. Such statements often led to modifications in the dance hall’s terms and conditions, though judges’ rulings often did not go far enough for the priests.
In February 1931, Garda Commissioner Eoin O’Duffy was interviewed by The Standard. The future leader of the Blueshirts (and, briefly, Fine Gael) advocated "an effective system of licensing" of dance halls, which would "enable the authorities to exercise supervision in regard to such matters as the character of the applicant, the nature of the structure, hours of dancing, and the conduct of the ball." A licensing system was a key part of the Public Dance Halls Act.
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From RTÉ Archives, Ireland's Eye reports on German typographer Gerd Fleischmann's exhibition of dance hall posters at the Douglas Hyde Gallery in Dublin in 1982
In some places (including Cashel, Co Tipperary, which was said to have gone ‘dance mad’), the clergy played a key role in the implementation of the legislation. In November 1935, the Dean of Cashel, Monsignor Innocent Ryan, submitted a report of the five-person committee which he chaired examining the question of dancing regulations. Two other parochial clergy were also on the committee, as were two members of Cashel Urban District Council.
"The suggested regulations permit only Irish dances and those that are Irish by immemorial usage, whatever their origin, such as Sets, Quadrilles, Lancers and the Polka," The Standard writer explained. "Jass [Jazz] and ‘slow motion’ dances are not to be allowed. Indelicacy in women’s dress is to be reproved by the persons in charge, extravagance in dress is to be discouraged, and all women dancers are recommended to use Irish-made materials."
Cashel in Co Tipperary was said to have gone 'dance mad'
Churchmen in various parts of the country reacted differently to the new regulations. In the diocese of Waterford and Lismore, an agreement was reached between the local bishop and dance-hall proprietors. Not content to leave things to the discretion of a judge, Bishop Patrick Finegan of Kilmore issued a strict order – enforced by the Cavan County Board of the Ancient Order of Hibernians – allowing none of his people to attend dances after 11 o’clock at night.
Given the nature and length of the clerical campaign to introduce the legislation, it’s striking to see how unchanged the terms of the dance-hall debate was 30 years later. By 1965, in a newspaper by then renamed the Catholic Standard, a "40-year-old Irish girl" (as she was described) warned the "mothers of Ireland" that "those lovely sons of yours, those house angels, may be dance hall devils, ravening wolves from whom no girl is safe.". An 18-year-old sought advice on "the correct attitude to have towards dancing", and asked how to enjoy oneself "without sinning". And that year finished with a column suggesting that there were no devils to be found at a céilí for lovers of Irish dancing.
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