Irish Government Commission report debunks myths, reveals complex truths about Ireland’s past with regard to Tuam Mother and Baby Home.
Newsroom (03 July 2025, Gaudium Press ) In 2014, a shocking claim reverberated globally: nearly 800 babies were said to have been found in a septic tank at the site of a former mother and baby home in Tuam, County Galway, Ireland. The story, rooted in local historian Catherine Corless’s discovery of 796 death certificates of infants and young children who died at the home between 1925 and 1961, sparked outrage and horror. Many leapt to the conclusion—though not Corless herself—that these children had been callously dumped in a sewage system by the Bon Secours Sisters, who ran the home on behalf of Galway County Council. Now, over a decade later, a state-funded excavation has begun to locate remains, collect DNA, and attempt to identify the deceased by matching samples with living relatives, 14 of whom have provided DNA so far. This complex operation is expected to take two years.
The initial 2014 reports tapped into a deep well of public distrust, particularly toward the Catholic Church and its historical role in Ireland’s mother and baby homes. Sensational narratives flourished, painting the nuns as villains who starved, neglected, or even murdered children before discarding their bodies in an active septic tank. Such depictions dovetailed with modern media portrayals of nuns as gothic, almost monstrous figures, seen in films like The Magdalene Sisters, Philomena, or the recent Small Things Like These. Rarely has a group of women been so demonized in popular culture.
Yet, the truth is more complex. In response to the 2014 uproar, the Irish Government established a Commission of Investigation, which published an extensive report in 2021 on Ireland’s mother and baby homes and county homes—the latter being successors to Dickensian workhouses. The report revealed that high mortality rates in these institutions were not unique to Tuam or to Catholic-run facilities. During the early 20th century, Ireland grappled with extreme poverty, hunger, and limited medical resources. Infant and child mortality was alarmingly high nationwide, exacerbated in overcrowded homes where diseases spread rapidly. Clusters of deaths were common, much like in nursing homes during the Covid-19 pandemic. The Commission found no evidence of deliberate neglect or murder by the nuns; all recorded deaths were attributed to natural causes.
The Tuam home, officially called the Tuam Children’s Home, primarily served unmarried mothers, though about 10% of its residents were married women driven there by destitution. These women had few alternatives for childbirth and childcare. Mother and baby homes were not exclusive to Ireland—similar institutions existed across Britain and elsewhere until the 1970s, and most were not run by the Catholic Church. Today, such homes are obsolete, thanks to social changes, state support for single mothers, and access to abortion.
A critical finding of the Commission’s report, often overlooked, is that the Bon Secours Sisters were not responsible for burials at Tuam. That duty fell to Galway County Council, which owned the home and was legally obligated to record burials—a task it either neglected or whose records were lost. The report suggests that many remains likely lie beneath a memorial garden on the site, marked by a statue of the Virgin Mary, a location long suspected by locals to be a burial ground.
The Commission’s chapter on Tuam includes rare eyewitness accounts from those who lived or worked at the home, which closed in 1961. While some describe harsh, cold conditions, others paint a different picture. Several witnesses spoke fondly of Sr. Hortense, who managed the home for much of its existence. One recalled, “Sister Hortense loved children and helped out with them,” while another described her as having “a heart of gold” and the nuns as “the kindest and dearest” they knew. These accounts challenge the prevailing narrative of cruelty and neglect.
The 2021 report, though comprehensive, has been largely ignored or dismissed by media outlets, which often favor sensationalism over nuance. For those seeking clarity, the report—particularly its chapter on Tuam—is the most reliable source. It underscores the tragedy of the mother and baby homes while dispelling myths of gothic horror. As the excavation proceeds, it may bring closure to families and a chance to separate fact from fiction in this painful chapter of Ireland’s history.
If you are really interested in the issue, then please read the report for yourself. Start with the chapter on Tuam.
- Raju Hasmukh with files from Catholic Herald
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