In Dublin's fair city
It is a bright and sunny day, warm, with a breeze blowing soft clouds along the sky. Following the Liffey, to the west, sits the grand expanse of Phoenix Park. The grass is long with the height of summer, and the park is abuzz with picnics, games of cricket, and squeals of childhood memories being made at the zoo.
The whole of the city feels lively and with a sense of celebration. This is the weekend of the All Ireland Championship finals, a weekend where the hurling season comes to an end. The city is striped – yellow and blue for Tipperary, yellow and black for Kilkenny. Pubs are decorated with coloured balloons and striped jerseys wind their way around town, spilling out of pubs, galleries, and cooking shops.
But here in Phoenix Park, it is quieter as the grass rustles and a rush of traffic hums in the background. As the afternoon extends, a short walk is made back across the river and up to Inchicore Road.
Here stands Kilmainham Gaol. The site is steeped in the history of Irish independence and standing proud and tall despite prior years of neglect.
The tour guide weaves the history of the site with the history of modern Ireland. From poverty and prison reform in the 1700s to the 1803 rebellion, and on to the Great Hunger. While poverty and famine raged outside, and a law against begging was put in place, the prison became crowded as the basic human needs of four walls, a roof, and a guaranteed meal-a-day drew many in.
As the history is told, the rebel spirit sings louder, from the Easter Uprising, to the War of Independence, and on to the Civil War. The 1916 Rebellion was the main reason the grey stone gaol is known by name. It was here that the executioner sounded the death knell for the leaders and, many believe, consequently sounded the death knell to Britain’s centuries-long stronghold on the island.
The tour ends in a pebble-lined courtyard, with a small cross at each end. It was here that the leaders of 1916 faced the firing squad. One cross for all but one, and one for James Connolly, ill and nearing death yet tied to a chair so the executioners could end his life and, with it, they believed, the uprising.
Six years later the Irish Free State was declared.
With almost a century passed, and the relationship between the UK and Ireland increasingly present in the media, Kilmainham’s history only feels all the more timely, relevant, and important.
"There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them."
The Naked City, 1948