Irish surnames weren’t chosen. They were inherited long before birth — and they told the world exactly where you stood.Long before much of Europe had fixed family names, Ireland was already encoding kinship, obligation, protection, and memory into language itself.This episode looks at how Irish surnames actually worked, why they appeared so early, and how conquest and bureaucracy broke their grammar.It’s not a lesson in genealogy — it’s an attempt to relearn how to read a system that once held Irish society together.

This episode of The History and Heritage Podcast examines the Irish surname Leahy, along with variants such as Lahey and Leahey. Although often treated as a single family name, Leahy derives from two distinct Gaelic lineages with different meanings, social roles, and regional histories. The episode explores how anglicisation, regional pronunciation, and administrative record-keeping caused separate families to be recorded under the same spellings. A grounded exploration of language, identity, and the hidden complexity behind a familiar Irish name.

“Certavi et vici — I have fought and I have conquered.” Few family mottos carry as much lived experience as the Flanagan line. From the medieval chiefs of Roscommon to Olympic champions, artists, priests, soldiers, and reformers, the Flanagans have spent centuries turning struggle into purpose. This episode explores• the origins of the Flanagan name,• the meaning of the motto Certavi et vici,• their roots in Roscommon,• and the extraordinary people who carried that spirit into the modern world — including athletes, artists, priests, and even a Pearl Harbor survivor. A story of grit, stewardship, faith, and the quiet power of Irish resilience.

Surname Series: O’Dwyer (Ó Dubhuir)From the rugged slopes of Kilnamanagh to the courts of Europe, the battlefields of the 17th century, and the sporting arenas of today, the O’Dwyer story is one of resilience, identity, and reinvention. This episode explores their ancient Laigin roots, the stronghold they built in Tipperary, their resistance against Norman and Tudor pressure, the dramatic capture of the Rock of Cashel, and the upheaval that followed Cromwell’s conquest. Forced abroad, many became leaders in foreign armies and courts — while others rose in America and Australia through public service, law, and community leadership. The legacy continues today through figures like Mick O’Dwyer, Orla O’Dwyer, Joseph O’Dwyer, and Gráinne O’Dwyer, each carrying the same drive into sport, science, and culture. A story of perseverance, faith, and the enduring strength of one Irish name.

In this episode of The History and Heritage Podcast, we turn to one of Ireland’s most compelling medieval saints: St Malachy of Armagh (1094–1148) — reformer, peace-weaver, and one of the key figures who helped shape the Irish Church at a turning point in our island’s story. From his childhood in Armagh to his tireless work restoring discipline, rebuilding churches, and healing political rivalries, Malachy emerges as a man of deep faith and sharper courage. His friendship with St Bernard of Clairvaux, his reform of monastic life, and his final pilgrimage to France all unfold here with the rich historical context that defined his world. This episode marks the final instalment in the Four Patrons Series, bringing the journey full circle as we explore the lives, legacies, and spiritual imprint of the saints at the heart of Irish identity. If you enjoy immersive storytelling, human-centred history, and a quiet thread of hope running through each tale, this episode is for you.

Saint Jarlath of Tuam rarely makes the headlines of Irish history — yet without him, the spiritual map of Ireland would look very different. A monk trained by the disciples of Patrick.A teacher who shaped Brendan the Navigator.A founder who built where a wheel broke — and changed a landscape forever. Tuam did not begin as a town. It began as a sign. In this episode, we uncover the story of a saint who didn’t seek fame, power, or glory — but whose quiet legacy still echoes through Ireland’s faith, identity, and memory. Who was Jarlath?Why did Brendan send him wandering in old age?And what does it mean when a broken wheel becomes destiny? Press play — and rediscover a forgotten founder. —Hosted by Liam BlakeThe History & Heritage Podcast

The twelfth century was a time of upheaval — kings at war, monasteries in reform, and a young Ireland caught between worlds.From this storm rose one man: Lorcán Ua Tuathail — Saint Laurence O’Toole.A prince taken hostage.A monk who fed the hungry with the gold from his own altars.A bishop who stood between Norman swords and his people — and stopped a massacre by the sheer power of faith. This episode follows Laurence’s life from the glens of Wicklow to the councils of kings, and from Glendalough’s still waters to his final moments in Normandy. It’s a story of courage and conviction, of holiness lived through hardship, and of a man who proved that faith isn’t retreat from history — it’s redemption through it. Join Liam Blake on The History and Heritage Podcast as we rediscover the life and legacy of the saint who became the conscience of a nation.

Before Patrick, before Armagh or Clonmacnoise, there was Ailbe of Emly — Ireland’s forgotten first bishop. Legend says he was cast out as a child and suckled by a she-wolf in the forests of Tipperary. But when he grew, he sought wisdom beyond the sea — trained in Wales, ordained in Rome, and returned to the Irish plains to kindle a light that would never go out. From Emly, the earliest centre of Christian learning in Munster, he taught kings, converted pagans, and set down the first Irish monastic rules. In Wales, his memory lived on under another name — St Elvis, said to have baptised St David himself. This episode follows the historical and legendary threads of Ailbe’s life: From early references in the Martyrology of Tallaght and Annals of Inisfallen, to his enduring veneration in Cashel and the strange echo of his name across the sea. It’s a story of the earliest Irish Christianity — a world of wolves, wells, and whispered prayers — where holiness felt close to the wild earth itself. And whether you believe or not, Ailbe’s tale challenges the modern listener:Could faith still be something fierce, free, and deeply rooted — like Ireland once was?

From the Gaelic “Ó Maoilriain” of medieval Tipperary to the emigrant Ryans who crossed oceans with little more than their faith and their name, this episode traces one of Ireland’s most enduring surnames. Through true stories of ordinary men and women — a famine-era schoolmaster, a soldier far from home, a nurse in 1918 — we explore what it means to carry a name through centuries of change. Featuring people and reflections on identity, belonging, and endurance, this is the story of how one Irish name became a living heritage. Listen now on Podbean or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow @liamblakepodcaster on Instagram for more history and heritage stories.

Join Liam Blake of the History and Heritage Podcast on a journey through one of Ireland’s most storied surnames — Blake — where faith, conquest, and endurance intertwine. From the martyred monk Bláthmac on Iona’s altar to the Norman knight Richard Caddell, “le Blak,” who forged a lineage of Galway merchants, bishops, and exiles, this episode traces a thousand years of courage and conviction. Discover how the Blakes became part of Ireland’s very soul — from castle walls along the Corrib to the dreamers and soldiers who carried their name across oceans. Two nations, one name, bound by faith and fortitude. Virtus sola nobilitas — virtue alone ennobles.

The Murphy Surname — a concise, source-driven exploration of Ireland’s most common name. In this episode we trace Ó Murchadha/Mac Murchaidh from its early medieval roots in Leinster and the Uí Cheinnselaig, through Dermot MacMurrough and the Norman era, the penal and famine centuries, the 1798 rebellions, and the global diaspora that carried Murphy to the Americas, Australia and beyond. Along the way we explain the name’s meaning (“sea warrior”), its multiple independent origins across Ireland, key demographic milestones, cultural touchstones (including Murphy’s Law), and notable bearers who shaped modern history and culture. Follow History and Heritage for sourced episodes that connect places, people and identity.

From the coral shores of the Pacific to the red dust of Queensland, this episode traces two places linked by memory — the Irish habit of naming new worlds after home. We begin on New Ireland in Papua New Guinea — once called Latangai, later Nova Hibernia and Neumecklenburg. Beneath each name lies a story of power, endurance, and 30,000 years of unbroken tradition. Then to Tyrconnell in Queensland — a Donegal name carried across oceans, first for a pastoral station, later a gold mine with Australia’s oldest working stamper battery. Together, these stories reveal how Irish names travelled the world — comforting the displaced, yet erasing older voices. New Ireland and Tyrconnell are not just places, but echoes of empire, memory, and belonging. Join Liam Blake for a journey across continents, languages, and centuries — a reflection on how names remember, how they wound, and how, sometimes, they outlive the people who gave them.

From the banks of the Shannon to the streets of Syracuse, two places carry Irish names that tell stories of power, pride, and defiance. In Athlone, we trace the word from its origins in Ireland — a fortress town divided by the River Shannon and scarred by siege — through the lofty halls of Kensington Palace, where Alexander Cambridge styled himself Earl of Athlone, and on to the Cape Flats of South Africa, where the name was stamped onto a township marked by apartheid, protest, and resilience. One name, three worlds: imperial dignity, colonial exile, and Irish memory. Then we move to Tipperary Hill in Syracuse, New York, where Irish canal diggers and their families built a community on grit, Mass, and music. Here, even a traffic light became a battleground. When the city dared put British red above Irish green, local boys took up their slingshots and hurled stones until the order was reversed. Green still shines above red today — a glowing symbol of identity, humour, and the stubborn pride of Irish America. These are stories of how names travel, collide, and transform — carrying Ireland far beyond its shores.

Out on the Connemara coast, this “pig-marsh between two seas” has seen it all: Cromwellian land seizures, famine, emigration, crumbling piers, half-built roads, and the stubborn survival of the Irish language. Along the way, it caught the eye of a French novelist, inspired one of the great mapmakers of the west, and in 2005 had its dignity restored when the Irish form, Muiceanach idir Dhá Sháile, was made official once again. This episode explores how a tiny townland became a symbol of endurance, identity, and the power of names to carry history itself.

“People cling to their ancient names.” When John O’Donovan wrote those words in 1837, he had just walked the roads of Longford, listening to locals insist that their town was not just Edgeworthstown, the name imposed by a planter family, but Mostrim — Meathas Troim — the fertile ridge, the frontier of the elder tree. In this episode of The History and Heritage Podcast, Liam Blake explores the long, layered story of a town with two souls. From its Gaelic beginnings under the O’Farrells, through the arrival of the Edgeworth family in the 1580s, to the turbulence of rebellion, famine, and emigration, this is a history that mirrors Ireland itself. We meet Maria Edgeworth, the novelist whose Castle Rackrent shaped English literature, and Henry Essex Edgeworth, who whispered the last words to Louis XVI at the guillotine. We walk the market square where jewellery was sold to fund the town’s market house, and the railway station where generations said farewell. We stop at the grave of Isola Wilde, Oscar Wilde’s sister, whose tragic death here inspired one of his most poignant poems. And we trace the tug-of-war between the names Edgeworthstown and Mostrim, from nationalist revival to modern-day GAA pride. Two names, one town — a story of belonging, identity, and resilience.

One name, two very different stories. In County Cork, Charleville was born of Restoration politics — a plantation town tied to kings, conflict, and commerce, later reshaped by faith, fairs, and remarkable people whose voices echoed across the world. In County Offaly, Charleville Castle rose as a Gothic masterpiece — the dream of an ambitious heir, scarred by fire, neglect, and tragedy, yet revived by love, legend, and even ghosts. This episode of The History and Heritage Podcast explores both Charlevilles: one a bustling market town in the Golden Vale, the other a haunted castle of spires and shadows. Together, they remind us how names can carry centuries of ambition, resilience, and memory — stories of power and ruin, saints and spectres, still written into the Irish landscape today.

He was hunted by the Gestapo, with a bounty on his head. Yet Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty—an Irish priest from Killarney—saved over 6,500 Allied prisoners, Jews, and civilians in Nazi-occupied Rome. Known as the “Scarlet Pimpernel of the Vatican,” O’Flaherty built a vast escape network under the eyes of the Gestapo, using disguises, safe houses, and sheer courage to defy fascism. This episode of the History and Heritage Podcast tells his remarkable story—from his early life in Kerry, through his rise in the Vatican, to his wartime heroics and quiet postwar years. It’s a story of faith, defiance, and moral courage, summed up in his enduring motto: “God has no country.”

From the hunting fields of County Limerick to the tidal shores of Connemara, two rare survivors of Ireland’s past take centre stage. In the final episode of the Native Breeds series, I explore the history and heritage of the Kerry Beagle — a deep-chested scent hound with roots in Celtic hunting traditions — and the Cladoir Sheep, a small coastal breed once thought extinct but rediscovered grazing on seaweed in the west. Their stories stretch from medieval hunting laws to famine-era survival, from 19th-century agricultural reports to 21st-century DNA conservation projects. Both came close to vanishing. Both endured because someone cared enough to keep them alive. 🎧 Listen in for a journey through hunts, coastlines, folklore, and the people who refused to let these breeds disappear.

Native Breed Series – The Irish Honeybee “If the bee disappeared off the face of the Earth, man would only have four years left to live.” Ireland’s dark honeybee, Apis mellifera mellifera, has been part of this island’s story for 5,000 years: shaping laws, folklore, farming, and faith — before disease, imports, and neglect nearly erased it. This week, Liam Blake tells its story: from Neolithic settlers and medieval hive laws, to rural “bee lore” and the modern DNA rescue mission keeping this native pollinator alive.

🐐 Native Breed Series – The Old Irish Goat “The goat was the poor man’s cow.” This week, we’re telling the story of Ireland’s only native goat — a five-thousand-year survivor that gave milk to the poor, parchment to monks, and placenames to our maps, before almost vanishing in the 20th century. Join me, Liam Blake, as I trace its journey from Neolithic farms to nineteenth-century goat droves, to a modern DNA rescue mission on a Mayo hillside. This is history that eats gorse for breakfast. 🎧 Listen now on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.