On our first evening, we had just enough time to poke around St. Stephen's Green, which is a gorgeous 19th-century park in and of its own right...
Superintendent's lodge.
...but is also one of the central (Dublin) locations for the 1916 Easter Rising. The Easter Rising was one of the pivotal moments in modern Irish history: a proclamation of a free Irish republic and an armed insurrection by various Irish republican groups, intended to end British rule of Ireland and to establish an independent nation. The Rising, which lasted six days, was a military failure for the out-manned and out-gunned Irish, resulting in the execution of 15 republican leaders, the arrest of some 3,500 people, and the destruction to rubble of various parts of central Dublin; but the bravery and sacrifice of the Rising participants and the severity of the British reaction swung the tide of public opinion, previously strongly anti-rebellion, towards favoring full Irish independence from Britain. (It also bore negative consequences; the Easter Rising preceded not one but two Irish wars and helped to grow the discord between nationalists and unionists.)
At St. Stephen's Green, there's an Easter Rising path around the park, posted with signage describing what happened and where. One stop is the statue of Lord Ardilaun behind which the Irish Volunteers took cover as they waited to retreat from the park into the Royal College of Surgeons, across the street. The Irish fighters would sprint for it when the British ceased firing their Lewis machine gun to reload it.
There are still bullet holes in the facade of the Royal College of Surgeons.
From the park, we headed to find dinner on Camden Street (so bustling! such diversity of food!) at a Syrian restaurant, Damascus Gate. (I know, I know, weird choice, but I figured we'd have enough fish and chips/pub food on our travels that it might be a good idea to start with something totally different. Plus, I loooooove mezze-style sharing and Levantine cuisine, and since I was the cruise director here, Syrian food. Yum.) Everything we had was delicious--especially the baba ganoush, hands-down the best I've ever had--and the service the most friendly ever.
Day two began with a tour of Kilmainham Gaol, another Dublin landmark that essentially encapsulates the modern Irish struggle for independence. Built in 1796, the prison originally held smalltime prisoners awaiting deportation to Australia; ironically enough, during the Famine, it became something of a refuge for the poor, as they could at least have shelter and food if they were in prison. (The cells were originally designed for a single occupant, but during the Famine, there were 5 or more people in each one.) More famously, however, the prison came to be known as the place where political prisoners were sent; leaders of anti-British rebellions in 1798, 1803, 1848, and 1867 were sent here, as were those arrested after the Easter Rising, and it became the site of execution for most of those. Afterwards, Irish Republican Army members captured during the War of Independence (1919-1921) and Republicans captured by pro-treaty forces during the Civil War (1922-1924) were also kept here. The prison closed in 1924 and fell into disrepair, but in 1960, a group of veterans, mostly having fought between 1916 and 1924, volunteered to help restore the prison as a monument to Irish nationalism and the events and people that helped create the republic. (Cleverly enough, some of the funding used to help restore the place was raised by renting it out as a movie set. The labor, however, was primarily volunteer. For 26-plus years.)
Original main entrance with hanging balcony over the door. (As in, whence they'd execute prisoners by hanging, before the long-drop system was invented.)
Oldest part of the jail, from the late 18th century.
Oldest part of the jail, with a quote from Padraig Pearse, one of the Easter Rising leaders, inscribed by an unknown prisoner: "Beware the risen people, that have harried and held, ye that have bullied and bribed."
Newer wing of the jail, built in the 1850s with a panopticon--that iron platform in the middle that gave guards a view of the entire space. (I found this wing strikingly and oddly pretty, for a prison.)
Lots of famous political prisoners passed through here. Eamon de Valera, held here after the Easter Rising, eventually became the first prime minister and, later, president of the upstart Irish republic. (There's a lot, lot more, and more complexity, to his story, but you can find that for yourselves. He also, incidentally, officially reopened the prison as a museum and tourist attraction in 1966.)
The former stonebreaker's yard, where the Easter Rising leaders were executed.
Plaque with their names.
In the museum, an original 1916 proclamation. The text on these gives me goosebumps and makes me want to join the rebellion.
Had I been alive to do so, I feel like I could have been close compatriots with (or at least a major admirer and superfan of) Countess Markievicz, whose story I will tell, a little. She was a fiery suffragist, nationalist/republican revolutionary (fighting at St. Stephen's Green during the Easter Rising), member of several para-military and nationalist groups, and eventual politician, imprisoned at Kilmainham in 1916, escaping execution only because she was female. (And, this was neither her first nor her last jail term.) In 1918, she became the first woman elected to the UK parliament, and was again in prison, this time in London, for republican sentiments and activities the following year, when she was elected to the first parliament of the new Irish Republic. She later became first female cabinet minister in Ireland (second in all of Europe!), fought in the Irish Civil War on the republican side, and died at age 59 in a public hospital after having given away all her wealth to fund various revolutionary activities. Eamon de Valera gave her funeral eulogy.
Cripes, but that woman must have been terrifying and brilliant, and also, she apparently was something of an artist and had a lightning wit and a firm grasp on sarcasm. Above, one of her political cartoons in the museum at Kilmainham, the caption of which reads, "Desperate battle between a small force of the National Army and an overwhelming force of Irregular Newsboys."
Later, spotted in the stairwell at the Bank pub and restaurant near Trinity College, the Countess' advice to women fighting with the Easter Rising rebels in 1916. (I've found a new personal hero.)
I will tell you straight up, a visit to Kilmainham is emotionally overwhelming; as Dad pointed out, the Irish have essentially been fighting for their independence for a thousand years, and their history is both a tragic one and a powerful lesson in how to survive and to create strength, culturally and spiritually. (If the events that took place here don't at least bring a tear to your eye, there's probably something wrong with your cold, hard heart. Have these people suffered.)
But tourists gonna tour...so afterwards, we caught a really nice lunch at the nearby Union 8, then headed back into town to visit the mummies in the basement of St. Michan's church. There are two portions of the crypt that one can enter, as the tunnels down there no longer connect. And getting down there is no picnic: you have to climb through two very small metal doors down some very steep, slippery stone steps, and you're guaranteed to bonk part of yourself on something on the way down. However, it's totally worth the effort.
As best I can tell, these crypts were constructed around 1685. Some of the vaults containing coffins are gated off, and some are open, although you're only allowed to take photos in through all of the doorways.
Apparently, whatever (I guess mysterious...? no one quite seems to be able to pin it down, but probably something to do with limestone) process is mummifying the bodies is also destroying the coffins, so body pieces, on occasion, fall out. As one assumes happened with these skulls just resting on the floor.
Fancy coffins of the Earls of Leinster (...I think).
The famous mummies, most of which (as well as all the coffins) date to between the 17th and 19th centuries. No one really knows much about who these people were, but the one on the far right is just called the "unknown" one; to her left is the "thief," because he's missing a hand and both feet and there's wild speculation that the hand, at least, was cut off as a punishment; to the far left is the "nun"; and--by far the most interesting--in the large coffin in the middle, the "Crusader." Again, it's all wild speculation, but this is the oldest of the mummies--I've read between 650 and 800 years old--and the name is a reference to the positioning of his arms when he was placed in the coffin. Additionally, this guy, in life, was six and a half feet tall--an absolute giant, whenever he was alive, and his legs were broken off and tucked underneath him to get him to fit in this coffin! Insanity.*
Also down here is the death mask of Thobald Wolfe Tone, a leader of the anti-British rebellion in 1798, as well as the tombs of the Sheares brothers, who were hanged, drawn and quartered for participating in that same rebellion. It's also one of the possible sites of the burial of Robert Emmet, who was executed for leading another rebellion in 1803, but that mystery apparently endures. (So many rebellions, so many executions, and then more rebellions. One might get the impression that people desperately want self-determination, or something.)
Our next stop was Christchurch cathedral, surprisingly still open at 6:00-ish at night! So in we went, and it turns out, the-last-hour-before-closing is a great time to visit this place: it was practically empty. What luck.
Parts of this building date to 1172 (although, of course, it's been restored many times through the centuries). The excellent underground crypt, of which I somehow did not get any particularly full photos, dates to 1188, and makes this the oldest building in Dublin.
Naaaaaave.
Original column capital from the 12th century.
Effigy of Strongbow, real name Richard de Clare, second earl of Pembroke, who, in the late 12th century, almost single-handedly opened the door to English rule in Ireland. (This is [possibly] neither his actual tomb, nor his real effigy--the latter is a replacement for the original, which was some 400-ish years older and destroyed after the roof of the cathedral collapsed during a fire in 1562.)
Reliquary of the heart of St. Laurence O'Toole, Dublin's patron saint who died in France in 1180. So naturally they brought his heart here.
Day two began at Trinity College for something I never tire of seeing, and which I knew my Dad would love: the Book of Kells. Naturally, you can't take photos of the book itself, but the exhibition leading up to it is pretty great, if always horrifically packed with tourists. Eh, at least we got to skip the line for tickets. (People, when possible, with maybe the exception of the royal palace in Madrid, always buy your tickets to big tourist draws in advance online. I cannot even tell you how many hours and how much irritation it's saved us on our travels.)
From a 13th-century Bible, a margin illustration illustration from a passage in Deuteronomy (25:9, to be specific) about a man refusing to marry his brother's widow. This is how she gets to denounce him: by taking his shoe and spitting in his face. Haaaaah. I have no idea why that's the particular passage someone chose to illustrate here, but it's awesome.
The magnificent Long Room of the Trinity College library, from 1860. (Interesting tidbit: this library is the largest in Ireland, probably because of its "legal deposit" status--that is, every publisher in both the UK and Ireland must send to this library a print copy of everything they publish, and it's been that way since 1801.)
On display in the Long Room is "Brian Boru's harp", the oldest surviving of its kind and the model for the insignia of Ireland. Because it probably dates to somewhere in the 14th or 15th century, it couldn't have belonged to Brian Boru, the High King of Ireland in the early 11th century, but it makes for a good story.
Another original 1916 proclamation. (I remember seeing this the very first time I was in Ireland, in 2000. It sticks with you.)
Um...I don't know about you, but my university looked nothing like this.
Following lunch at the fancy-looking Bank...
...we headed to St. Patrick's Cathedral. On display there are a number of decaying regimental flags commemorating the Irish who died in the service of the British Army. These are from all over the world, and the oldest date to the mid-19th century.
St. Patrick's is also the burial place of Jonathan Swift...
...and several artifacts from his life are also on display here.
I love that they collect for the organ fund in a Guinness barrel.
Nave.
Parts of this place date to 1220! (Again...with many, many restorations over the years.)
After St. Patrick's, we found a pub around the corner in which to watch whatever rugby match was on the telly (I want to say it involved South Africa...?), then headed to a fabulous dinner at the rather wonderful Vintage Cocktail Club. Mike insisted we have dinner there, and I was dubious, but man, was he right on this one! Between the four of us, we shared some shrimp wontons; fried Brie; crispy pork belly; mushrooms on toast (with the most decadent white wine/cream/butter, gravy-like sauce); tomato salad with goat cheese; and the best roasted veggies I've ever had (most likely because they were roasted in butter, which you could taste). As the name of the place would imply, their cocktails were nothing to sneeze at, either; my favorite was the Condor & Curly Sue, with gin, apple, rhubarb, vanilla, and soda. Holy wow. (It also helped that the waitress seemed bent on giving my Dad a hard time, which was hilarious, as was she, in general.)
After dinner, we took a quick stroll through Temple Bar, because we were there and it's entertaining even with the throngs, and then we called it a night, 'cause the next day it was time to pack up and head westward.
Next up: Galway and environs. And birdies. But probably not for months and months, because people, we're going to Japan tomorrow. I can't even.
*Also! In February, someone stole two skulls from this vault, one being the Crusader's, and damaged some of the other remains. No idea how, but the police tracked down the culprit, and everything was repaired by the National Museum of Ireland and returned to the vaults at the beginning of July. Just in time for our visit.
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