The name Thomas William Allies is, as this book's blurb concedes, one that is ‘now almost forgotten’. Yet, as the author, Michael Trott, ably illustrates, it is one that those of us who share an interest in nineteenth-century ecclesiastical affairs might do well to remember. A historian of some prominence (he was best known for his eight-volume The formation of Christendom), Allies was also a prominent figure within the Oxford Movement, developing an important relationship with John Henry Newman. His conversion to Catholicism in 1850 was a source of some public debate: he was regularly ‘castigated in the press as a Puseyite conspirator bent on subverting Protestant England’. Thereafter, he became an important player in the movement for Catholic mass education.

After Eton and Oxford, Allies spent time on the Continent, studying and writing poetry, for which he achieved some acclaim. Having experienced a ‘conversion of the heart’ (p. 23.), he opted to follow his father's example, being ordained priest in the Church of England in 1836. His formative theological leanings had been Evangelical, but it was the lure of Tractarianism that transformed Allies's life and career. In 1844, as a young chaplain to the bishop of London, his Sermons on the Epistles and Romans and others was published, a work ‘indebted to Newman's Lectures on justification’ (p. 47). Chapters ii and iii – ‘The Tractarian whirlwind’ and ‘The Church of England is not in schism’ – provide a fascinating overview of not only the subject's spiritual journey (including his very public spats with Bishops Blomfield and Wilberforce), but also through the use of his diaries, offer an important perspective on the history of the Tractarian Movement. From his parish at Launton, Allies spent much time amongst important figures in Tractarian circles, developing close friendships with the likes of Newman and Pusey.

Chapter iv – ‘Crossing the Tiber’ – is one that will no doubt interest many readers, narrating Allies's reception into the Catholic Church, which occurred (later than that of many of his more well-known contemporaries) in 1850. His theological publications on the matter had made him widely known by this point, resulting in his conversion becoming a source of great public debate, celebrated by some, and lamented by others. Charles Dickens, for example, called it the final unmasking of a traitor. When he converted to Catholicism, Allies was only thirty-seven, with a flourishing career seemingly still ahead of him. Yet his reception into the Catholic Church ultimately resulted in his academic profile diminishing, leading to a great deal of personal insecurity, Allies inhabiting ‘an unfamiliar, occasionally hostile, new land’ (p. 380.)

His involvement in the establishment of the Catholic University of Ireland (he had been appointed professor of history, but only delivered a single lecture) provided some succour though. It was for him a prompt to thrust himself into the burgeoning Catholic elementary education movement. In 1853 he was appointed secretary of the Catholic Poor-School committee, acting as the Catholic bishops’ channel of communication with the government on the matter of state funding for church schools. In total he spent nearly four decades of his life in the role, helping to foster healthy working relations with successive governments, and ensuring that the educational needs of the rapidly expanding Catholic population could be met.

This work does not merely present a well-written historical narrative, but also offers at times touching, very personal and significant insights into the life of this important, ‘now almost forgotten’ figure. Trott tells us that Allies's death in 1903 ‘attracted little attention; there were few left to mourn, he had outlived most of his contemporaries’ (p. 384), an admission that in many ways sums up the personal trials and tribulations that he endured, especially since converting. Reflecting in 1899 on the path that he had followed, Allies remarked that: ‘I frankly gave up all my chance in life by becoming a Roman Catholic’ (p. 383).