For two decades Colman O'Mahony has been researching Cork's history from 1753 to the modern era. The result is a hardback volume that makes fascinating and grim reading. Modern Cork has its problems; the ancient city did, too.
Sources of the research for his latest book - he has already published The Maritime Gateway to Cork - included the files of old Cork newspapers, including the Cork Examiner and the long defunct Cork Constitution.
Mr O'Mahony unsuccessfully sought grant assistance for his research, and therefore the book is published in a limited edition of 300 copies at a pre-publication price of £20. The author is a member of the Cork Historical and Archaeological Society.
The book, In the Shadows, explores poverty in Cork; typhus and cholera epidemics; the Great Famine; executions at Gallows Green; the ill-treatment of animals; the city's slums; and subjects as diverse as worm-infestation in the citizenry.
In all, it amounts to a re-creation of times past, evoking the old city, its daily life, its trouble and strife. That life was not easy then is more than adequately demonstrated.
Of particular interest is the chapter on executions. The hangman, it seems, would snap your neck in those days without dwelling too much on the issue.
Crimes that would cost a life then would hardly do so today. Examples: "William Barry, Gallows Green on October 27th, 1786, for having robbed John Aherne's house at Castlemartyr. At the gallows, he confessed his guilt, reprobated the bad company he associated with, and died with the greatest resignation and composure in the 31st year of his age.
"Robert Bible, at Gallows Green on May 13th, 1780, for holding an illegal possession at Kilrush in this county. He acknowledged keeping the possession but denied ever having committed any of the felonies attributed to him, such as levelling houses, stealing sheep, butter, etc. He was dressed in a most becoming manner, in a new suit of black clothes and black gloves, behaved very pious and was thoroughly resigned to his unhappy fate.
"Mary Bradeen, at Gallows Green, on April 5th, 1740, for the theft of linen; Daniel Breen, at Churchtown, on February 24th, 1822, for burning Churchtown Barracks and the murder of a policeman."
Gallows Green was a busy place. One Michael Connell had a date with fate there on September 24th, 1785, for the rape of Catherine Brien in the city jail.
"A scheme was laid by a number of horrid villains about 12 o'clock on Monday, September 5th, against this unhappy girl, not about 17-years-old; and to carry this diabolical purpose into execution, had her called from the female apartment in the gaol, called the nunnery, on a pretence that she was wanted at the lower hatch.
"The innocent creature, not having eaten anything since the day before, went eagerly down in hope some person was bringing her food. But finding her disappointment, was returning with depressed spirits to her room when she was seized by the delinquents in the lobby, forced into their apartment by dragging her along the floor, and, oh horrid to relate, Long and Connell there defiled her."
The rape victim later made a new life in Australia "with every advantage of recommendatory letters and certificates."
Found guilty of abduction in September 1829, Denis Walsh (36), prayed on the gallows platform. The weather was bad and only a small crowd had turned up - mainly his relatives - to collect and bury the body.
"After a short time in prayer, the platform gave way and he was launched into eternity. This was the first occasion for the service of the lately appointed executioner, and he seemed to acquit himself very adroitly."
After the execution, Daly's body was taken back to his native Glanworth, in Co Cork. "His relatives had determined, through a spirit of revenge, to deposit the corpse at the door of the prosecutrix", which caused a fracas. A local man was shot in the confusion.
Mr Colman describes how cholera appeared in Belfast on March 5th, 1832, and within a month had come to Cork.
On April 12th, an 11-year-old girl from the Paul Street area got the disease and was dead in 12 hours. The book tells us that once the disease manifested itself, there were vile consequences.
"The intervening hours were a trauma, not only for the victim, but also for those who witnessed the torment. The sufferer's blood fluid gushed forth at the cataclysmic rate of a litre an hour . . . there followed in kaleidoscopic succession, nausea; tormenting thirst; asphyxia; cramp; searing abdominal pain; and kidney failure, with attendant uraemic poisoning. The ordeal was made all the more agonising because the intellect remained unimpaired to the end."
A week after the arrival of cholera, 85 cases had been confirmed and 35 died.