The recent death of William (Billy) O'Sullivan has been felt keenly both in Irish historical circles and in the international world of manuscript studies. A Festschrift compiled in his honour in 1998 borrowed a phrase from the biographer of the 17thcentury scholar James Ussher in describing him as "a miracle of learning". While Billy was embarrassed by the comparison, the chronological range of the volume, from the sixth to the 18th centuries, mirrored the astonishing scope of his own expertise.
When he became Keeper of Manuscripts at Trinity College Dublin in 1953, Billy brought to the position a first-class degree in history from TCD, and several years' experience at the Irish Manuscripts Commission, where he had earned a reputation as someone to whom the transcription and editing of even the most awkward manuscripts could safely be assigned. His career at TCD was characterised by high energy, as he strove to remedy the disorder into which the historic collections had fallen. Everything was done at pace. He would rush from one task to the next, and back again, sometimes breaking into a run over short distances.
Billy's was a distinctive personality. He coupled extreme courtesy and helpfulness to researchers, many of whom became personal friends, with impatience towards those in the higher echelons of the college administration who did not share his deep commitment to the welfare of the manuscripts. His memoranda to successive college librarians - composed, one suspects, with half an eye on the historical record - were masterpieces of polemic. When he was told that such venting of his spleen was not acceptable, he replied that he preferred to see his tone as one of righteous indignation.
He had a range of verbal mannerisms, such as "Don't you know?" as a suffix to explanations clearly above the head of the listener, or "I see", delivered with disappointed finality, to denote complete disagreement. Though ever mannerly, he was a master of the mild put-down, such as the rejoinder to a fellow diner in a Chinese restaurant in Belfast who expressed surprise that Billy was not familiar with Chinese menus. "I have eaten Chinese food before, of course," Billy replied, "but only in China." His botanical expedition to China was one of the last holidays he took in the company of his wife, the Irish scholar Ann "Neans" Cronin, before her death in 1984. Neans recalled that at one location their guide advised the party that with luck they might spot a particular botanical rarity. Billy bounded off and soon could be seen waving in the distance and exclaiming, "I found it, I found it!" Since Billy's death, his friends have remarked on how much they will miss not just his company but also the house at Foxrock which he shared with Neans. His garden was the work of an expert botanist. He took pleasure in pointing out unusual varieties of flowers, shrubs, and fruit. Guests at evening meals, which he always called "supper", could expect to be well fed, usually on roasts, supplemented with vegetables from the garden and a generous plateful of well-chosen Irish cheeses, the whole preceded invariably by a very dry sherry and washed down with full-bodied Rioja. It was here, casually attired rather than "dressed for town", as he put it (in town he wore splendid Irish tweed suits, which aroused much admiration), that he seemed most at ease, in rooms decorated with pottery and paintings by his contemporaries such as Nano Reid and Gerard Dillon, and surrounded by his large working library.
When he himself came to dinner, he always arrived precisely on time, bearing a bottle of his favourite Rioja, and a basket filled to the brim with his own flowers (old-fashioned roses in season), bottled fruit, his neighbour's honey (the bees, we were assured, had visited his garden), and sometimes a marrow. He had a great ease in the company of young children, with whom he spoke carefully and seriously.
It was unfortunate that the timing of his death on December 31st deprived most of his friends of the opportunity to pay their respects at his funeral, but many were able to take part in a Mass of thanksgiving for Billy's life in the chapel at Trinity College last Thursday.
B.M.