Oh, what a summer, it really was
Glorious days, without any pause
‘Don’t go’, is the cry
But we must say, goodbye
Come back soon, as them is the laws!

Summertime, and the living is....
Oh, what a summer, it really was
Glorious days, without any pause
‘Don’t go’, is the cry
But we must say, goodbye
Come back soon, as them is the laws!

Summertime, and the living is....
Filed under Dublin, dublin bay, Ireland, summertime, Weather
Of all the centenary celebrations in the last few years there was one this year which only became aware recently. That is the closure of Kilmainham Gaol, which for more than a hundred years was a place of dread and death for many Irish men, and women. The place, which was built on Gallows Hill, opened its doors in 1796 at a time of rising political tensions as the energy from the 1789 French Revolution was very much in the air and the authorities decided to take action.
One of the first high-profile prisoners was Henry Joy McCracken who had the door shut behind him on 11 October 1796. Later, in 1803, Robert Emmet was sent to Kilmainham Gaol before his execution on 20 September outside St Catherine’s Church on Thomas Street. His final words, from the gallows, were: ‘ My friends, I die in peace and with sentiments of universal love and kindness towards all men.’
In the following decades many men were sent to Kilmainham for involvement in various attempts at insurrection. Some of these prisoners were later deported to the penal colonies of Australia and Tasmania, many of whom never saw Ireland again.
In October 1881 Charles Stewart Parnell, the leader of the Parliamentary Party, was sent to gaol for opposing the recently enacted Land Act. He was released the following May. After that the gaol was closed and given to the British Army for use as a detention centre.
It would soon be busy with the influx of prisoners after the Easter Rising in 1916. And it was here that the leaders of the failed action were executed in May, before being buried in Arbour Hill. It was used to hold prisoners during the Civil War, with Eamon de Valera being the last man released in 1924. It closed soon afterwards, and it was ironic that when it was refurbished to what we see today the opening ceremony was led by none other than Eamon de Valera, then the President of Ireland.
Filed under Dublin, easter rising 1916, History, Ireland, irish civil war
Theobald Wolfe Tone was born 20 June 1763 in 27 St Bride’s St. near Dublin Castle, and shortly afterwards his family moved to 44 Stafford St. (renamed Wolfe Tone St. in his honour). He was the eldest of sixteen children born to Peter Tone and Margaret Lamport, of which only six of them survived beyond infancy. They were a middle-class protestant family and Peter, who was born in Bodenstown, County Kildare was a successful coachbuilder.
Theobald Wolf Tone
After school he entered Trinity College in 1781, although he had wanted to become a soldier. He was a good student, winning a scholarship (on his graduation in 1786) and medals in the College Historical Society, a noted debating forum that had been founded in 1745 by former student and eminent politician Edmund Burke. In 1785 he and Matilda Witherington eloped and were married on 21 July without her parent’s permission, something that damaged the future relationship with his in-laws. They had four children with none of them living later than 1806. He went to London in 1786 and studied law at Middle Temple, while writing articles and a novel. Returning to Dublin he was called to the Bar in 1789 and practised on the Leinster circuit. However, it was not for him and he said, ‘I soon got sick and weary of the law’. Politics and the world-changing effect of the French Revolution drew him in.
In the early 1790s Tone began writing pamphlets and his An argument on behalf of the Catholics of Ireland, which was published in August 1791, became his most famous effort. This got him noticed, and along with others they formed the United Irishmen on 14 October 1791, which held its first meeting four days later with the declaration ‘AN EQUAL REPRESENTATION OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN PARLIAMENT’.
Tone was captured in October 1798 as he tried to land with French troops and military supplies. He was sentenced to hang for treason, but he died on 19 November from a self-inflected knife wound to his neck. Later, he was buried in Bodenstown graveyard.

Tone’s statue at St Stephen’s Green, Dublin.
Filed under Dublin, History, Ireland, shelbourne hotel
A few verses on the beauty of Dublin Bay in the sunshine – bliss!
*
A stroll by the sea, now there’s a thing
Sounds good to be, and has a nice ring
Fresh wind on my face
Ohh, what a place
Blue sky above, birds on the wing
From Sandycove northwards, Dublin Bay’s a thrill
It’s beauty seductive, my heart to fill
Tangy air to breathe
It’s just what I need
As waves crash on rocks, white foam does spill
Off to the right, is the Martello of Joyce
Beautifully placed, such a wonderful choice
Where Ulysses did start
His famed work-of-art
Bloomsday followed, for which we do rejoice
Filed under Art, Bloomsday, Dublin, dublin bay, Ireland, James Joyce, poetry, sail
Long before it was a café the building at 75 Grafton Street was a school and originally described by its owner Samuel Whyte as a ‘seminary for the institution of youth’. And in its sixty-six-year history it left a profound mark on its students, as well as pushing forward a new style of teaching that was open to both catholic and protestant boys and girls.
Samuel Whyte had an interesting birth, to say the least, as he was born, in 1733, on board a ship as it made its way along the Mersey in stormy weather before docking in Liverpool. His mother sadly died shortly afterwards due to complications of his birth. He was the illegitimate son of Solomon Whyte who died in 1757 leaving Samuel £500 in his will which he used to open his school on the 3rd of April 1758.
Growing up in Dublin he was friendly with his relations, the Sheridan family, where he met and later taught the future playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan the writer of such classics as The Rivals and The School for Scandal. Another pupil who was taught by the Principal of the English Grammar School (his own description) was Thomas Moore, the poet, who was impressed with Whyte’s methods and a curriculum that included astronomy, languages, history, mathematics, literature and oratory. Robert Emmet was another pupil who paid attention in class and absorbed Whyte’s lessons on oratory. This was shown in 1803 when Emmet gave his famous Speech from the Dock in Green Street court-house on 19th September after he had been convicted of high treason. It is considered to be one of the greatest speeches ever made as many anti-colonial groups around the world drew inspiration from it.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
With the introduction of the Act of Union (1800) and the exodus of wealthy families to England the school went into decline. After Whyte died at No. 75 on 11th October 1811 the school was run by his son Edward, before he closed it in 1824.
Today the building is where you will find Bewley’s Oriental Café.
Bloomsday is almost upon us, and Dublin is getting ready for another busy day. There will be celebrations of Joyce’s great book in many places around the city, with readings, lectures, singing and performances on offer. Many visit the James Joyce Museum, in the Martello Tower in Sandycove, as it is the place where Ulysses begins. Joyce’s friend Oliver St. John Gogarty had rented the place for £8 per year and invited him to come and stay. He did, for six days only, but the place left such an impression on him that he set the opening scene of his most famous book on the roof. And, by the way, the view from up there across Dublin Bay is spectacular.
A Few Bloom-ing Lines
The sun is high, on the bright, warm day
Martello busy, crowds moving in sway
Joyce’s words are spoken
Rapt silence unbroken
As salty air tickles, drifting in from the bay
*
‘Twas in the Tower, where it all began
For Mulligan and Dedalus, your only man
Then a walk on the beach
Eternity to reach
On Sandymount Strand, as the bubblin’ tide ran
*
On a sunlit Howth Head, they did caress
Bloom and Molly, in her fine new dress
Then a stroll on the pier
‘Fancy a drink, my dear?’
‘To a gin and tonic, I must say YES!’
Filed under Art, Bloomsday, Dublin, dublin bay, Humour, Ireland, poetry, sail, Sandymount Strand, Weather
Cornelius ‘Connie’ Ryan was born on the 5th June 1920 at 33 Heytesbury Street, Dublin, and went to CBS Synge Street, which was close to his home. He entered the Royal Irish Academy of Music where he studied violin, and graduated in 1936. Always interested in writing he sent plays to various theatres, but without success.
Cornelius Ryan
He moved to London in 1940 and joined the Reuters news agency the following year where he reported on the Blitz. Later, as a war correspondent with the Daily Telegraph he saw action going on fourteen bombing missions with the US Air Force over Germany. After D-Day (6th June 1944) he went with General Patton’s US 3rd Army as it fought its way through France and Germany to the end of the fighting. In the last few months of the global conflict, he went to the Pacific and witnessed the surrender of Japan. While there he opened the Daily Telegraph’s bureau office in Tokyo, before moving to Jerusalem as Middle East bureau chief.
In 1949, after attending the fifth anniversary of the D-Day landings, he began the work that would bring him fame and fortune. Over the next ten years he interviewed soldiers, from both sides, citizens, resistance fighters and wrote his most famous book The Longest Day. It was published to great acclaim in 1959, and was made into a box-office success in 1962 that featured a cast of famous actors and won two Oscars in 1963. The Last Battle (1966), his account of the collapse of Berlin, and A Bridge Too Far (1974) the story of the ill-fated Operation Market Garden, were also well received. Bridge was also made into a movie (1977) and was directed by Richard Attenborough.
He moved to Ridgefield, Connecticut, and was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1970. He was awarded the French Légion d’honneur in 1973, and died in New York on the 23rd November 1974. On his gravestone is one word ‘Reporter’.