I was delighted to hear from the remarkable Ruth Riddick in New York about an equally remarkable exhibition at the Irish Consulate in New York which she is involved with – “An Gorta Mór – Ireland’s Great Hunger” which is based on the collection at Connecticut’s Quinnipiac University.
Ireland’s Great Famine or The Great Hunger, as it is more commonly referred to today, ranks among the worst tragedies in the sweep of human history. Between 1845 and 1850, approximately 1.5 million Irish men, women and children died of starvation or related diseases. By 1855, more than two million more fled Ireland to avoid a similar fate. This decimation of her population makes Ireland’s Great Hunger both the worst chapter in the country’s history, and arguably, the single worst catastrophe in 19th century Europe.
The President of Ireland, Professor Mary McAleese opening the exhibition in New York
As for New York based Ruth who is providing communications services to the project she is one of life’s polymaths who has forged a career in the States providing consultancy in communications, advocacy, management and training as well as continuing her writing. She is special friend from the old days and she is known in Ireland as a leading feminist (a label she would never use herself). Ruth was a leading advocate for women’s rights and a rational humane approach to social problems at a time when they were both sorely needed in Ireland and when it took real personal courage to campaign on these issues. But there is much more to the talented Ms. Riddick than that as a perusal of her web site reveals;
As for the exhibition your thinking about the Irish famine will be irrevocably changed. Even the word “famine” in no longer used; the period is now known, inter alia, as the “starvation.” When I read the background on the Quinnipiac site I certainly learnt more than I did at school and it changed my view about the nature of the Famine. It is great with the developments in the North that the Irish-American perspective has moved on from the freeze frame it was in for so many years - I remember the old joke about there are only two political issues in Boston - "Trieste is Italian and Ireland must be united!"
Eviction of an Irish family by landlords during the famine
The Great Hunger irrevocably changed Ireland – its population was virtually halved, the dominance of the Gaelic language as the spoken language of the people was destroyed and the effects of the Irish Diaspora on Ireland and on the countries where the pitiful emigrants from starvation went to are felt to this day. It also reinforced the conviction that Irish people must take control of their own destiny and not be beholden to a foreign power.
As for the thrust of the exhibition to correct historical misapprehensions the President of Quinnipiac University writes;
“An Gorta Mór, The Great Hunger, is an attempt to set the record straight. For more than 150 years, the catastrophe that depopulated Ireland has been referred to as the Irish Potato Famine—as if a crop, and not a nation’s people, were the victims. Rather than an act of nature, The Great Hunger was the result of centuries of institutionalized oppression and callous disregard for human life. This unprecedented exhibition presents one of the world’s most extensive collections of art and literature portraying the tragedy and suffering in Ireland at that time. The authors, artists, writers and local voices whose work is collected in this exhibition stand together to bear witness to this crime against humanity.
It is critical that the Great Hunger be remembered accurately. In the 150-plus years since the Great Hunger, this tragedy has been downplayed and frequently distorted by Anglo historians and sympathizers. Too often it has been described as a disaster caused by the bad luck of a naturally occurring potato blight. British authorities, then responsible for ruling all of Ireland, were quick to agree, and thus took no responsibility for this epic disaster that claimed the lives of 1.5 million Irish people. Thanks to recent historians, such as Christine Kinealy, we now know that more than adequate food existed in Ireland; food exports from the country actually increased during the famine years. If only British authorities had possessed the will and compassion to deliver this food to the starving Irish. But British Government indifference resulted in the worst calamity ever to befall Ireland. It was not until 1997, 150 years after Black ‘47 that a British prime minister, Tony Blair, acknowledged that the British bore some responsibility for this terrible tragedy.
Irish-Americans must continue to publicly document this worst tragedy and human rights abuse in Ireland’s history—and to question those who even today seek to obscure the real causes of this human disaster.”
John L. Lahey, Ph.D. President, Quinnipiac University Vice Chairman, New York St. Patrick’s Day Parade Committee
Curated by producer Turlough McConnell, from the collection at Connecticut’s Quinnipiac University, the exhibition features art work by such major Irish sculptors as John Behan and Eamonn O’Doherty, as well as paintings, lithographs, photographs and etchings by other contemporary artists, and a fascinating selection of rare books and maps dating from the famine years and earlier.
Eamonn O’Doherty's marquette for a Famine Memorial
Quinnipiac University is a private, coeducational, non-sectarian institution located 90 minutes north of New York City and two hours south of Boston. Quinnipiac comprises schools of business, communications, education, health sciences, and law, and a College of Arts and Sciences.
Commentary on wall panels comes from important historians from both sides of the Atlantic, and is decidedly revisionist. It is right that the revision of the incorrect history of the Great Hunger is led from America as even during it Americans looked upon it as an avoidable human tragedy and identified with the people of Ireland many who ended up seeking refuge there after harrowing voyages in “Coffin Ships” where the bodies of those who died were thrown overboard.
The disproprtionate effect of the famine on the West of Ireland can be seen from this map
The Rev. John Hughes, D.D., Bishop of New York speaking from the Broadway Tabernacle on March 20th, 1847 gave a lecture on the Irish Famine and immigrations and in his speech said,
“The year 1847 will be rendered memorable in the future annals of civilization, by two events; the one immediately preceding and giving occasion to the other, namely, Irish famine, and American sympathy and succour.”
The exhibition is open to the public weekdays through September 3rd from 12 Noon to 2PM at the Consulate of Ireland, 345 Park Avenue (17th Floor), New York, between 51st and 52nd Street. (Entrance also at 345 Lexington Avenue, near 6, E & M subway.)
Photo ID required for building access. Call ahead to confirm hours, (212) 319-2555 .
The killers of Ekram Haque; Leon Elcock and Hamza Lyzai and their victim in hospital
There is widespread disbelief and anger in the UK about the message given to society by the sentences passed on three London teenagers who attacked a man leaving a mosque with his three year old daughter. It was called a “happy slapping” attack and resulted in the death of the pensioner who was attacked “for fun.” Local MP Sadiq Khan has described the sentences as “truly shocking”, a sentiment which is widely felt.
Shocking footage shows a man dying in the street after a “happy slapping” attack as his bewildered granddaughter stands by his side. CCTV footage released today shows 67-year-old Ekram Haque lying flat on his back as his hooded attackers aged 14 and 15 flee. They ran up behind and felled him with a powerful blow for the fun of it. Ekram Haque, a retired care worker, was standing outside the local mosque in Tooting in August last year. He had been there to pray because it was the Holy month of Ramadan. Hospital doctors turned his life support machine off a week later.
A judge ordered that the boys, previously granted anonymity because of their age, be named and shamed. Leon Elcock and Hamza Lyzai struck as Mr Haque waited with three-year-old Marian outside the Idara-e-Jafferiya mosque in Church Lane, Tooting, last August 2009.
Ekram Haque and his grand-daughter Marian
In the film she is seen playing at a railing under his watchful eye when the thugs, who had filmed previous attacks on a mobile phone, attack. The girl goes to his side, falls to her knees, her hand pushed out across his chest towards his face as if pleading with her grandfather to get up and show he is all right. A man in white robes, believed to be Mr Haque's son Arfan, rushes out of the mosque and takes the little girl inside before phoning for help. Elcock was on bail for an attack on an elderly Asian couple at the time.
Judge Martin Stephens told them: “You committed a series of very serious, cowardly, deeply unpleasant offences against elderly and vulnerable men and women. The attacks were entirely gratuitous and done without thought for your victims. Some of the attacks carried out on earlier occasions, although not of the same seriousness, were filmed by you as part of what you saw as fun. As a result of your so-called bit of fun, Mr Haque was deprived of a full and content life and his family were deprived of a devoted, inspiring and beloved father and a grandfather.” Three teenagers were originally charged with the murder of Mr Haque but lawyers accepted pleas to lesser offences after consulting the victim's family. Elcock, now 16, and Lyzai, 15, both from Tooting, pleaded guilty to manslaughter. Elcock was sentenced to four and a half years and Lyzai to three and a half. With time served already, Elcock could be free in 18 months while Lyzai could be out in just over a year. The charge against a third defendant, who was 14, will lie on the file. He was sentenced to six months detention for two other attacks.
The judge said his powers of sentence in relation to the assaults were “very limited” because of the defendants' ages. He lifted restrictions on naming Elcock and Lyzai as a warning to others “who may be tempted to indulge in such appalling behaviour”. Outside the Old Bailey, Arfan Haque was furious that Elcock had been let out on bail after a previous attack, saying: “The Crown Prosecution Service needs to buck up their ideas, because they are being bailed and just walking free. My father is dead, it's just a disgrace.”
Lawyers for the “happy slap” gang claimed they were simply bored teenagers craving entertainment. Oliver Blunt QC told the court: “They are young, bored, listless youths who sought entertainment in this extremely unpleasant and distorted fashion.” Throughout the Old Bailey case the three defendants did not show a flicker of remorse, sitting impassively as they watched the sickening violence on CCTV film. Leon Elcock, the oldest of the three and the gang leader, was said to recruit his “foot soldiers” with the same ruthless intimidation he showed his victims. He shares a council house in Tooting with his mother and five siblings. A serial truant after being suspended from school for assaulting a teacher, he is suspected of committing several robberies. Hamza Lyzai is Ugandan-born. Neighbours claim he was transformed from a polite boy into a killer when he joined the gang.
The youngest defendant, who was not named, photographed the gang's attacks. All the “happy slap” clips recovered by police were found on his mobile. A teacher told police she found him watching internet clips of elderly people being happy slapped and he was “laughing hysterically.”
Can anyone actually explain why these loathsome individuals were given such lenient sentences? Reading the Home Office guidance would suggest anyone aged over 10 but under the age of 18 can be given "Detention for life" for manslaughter. So how exactly does a pitiful 3 and a half years come into play? And if the judge is in fact constrained by the system then the system needs changing. A man has lost his life, a family had theirs irreversibly blighted and the perpetrators will be back on the streets laughing about it in a year and carrying on their trend of violent crime on their next unfortunate victim.
It is difficult to see how the sentences meet the needs of retribution and rehabilitation. Is anybody in any doubt how these totally unrepentant feral teenagers will behave on the streets of London when they are released in just over a year’s time? It is even more difficult to imagine how the family of Ekram Haque will be able to explain to his grand daughter Marian when she is older that her beloved grandfathers life counted for so little in the eyes of the justice system. All of our lives have been devalued by this lenient sentencing which says you can cause somebody’s death for “fun”, record and leer at the scene on your mobile phone and get away with murder with only minor inconvenience in your own life. These shocking sentences which do not address the need for retribution and rehabilitation cannot be allowed to stand.
"O'Donoghue's Opera" is a unique and hilarious film starring Ronnie Drew and his band of bohemian merrymakers who include 'The Dubliners' and other favourite Irish musicians of the time like the McKenna’s and Johnny Moynihan. Made in 1965, Ireland's first musical was never completed due to financial difficulties and remained unseen until veteran filmmaker Tom Hayes brought the out-takes to Sé Merry Doyle who painstakingly restored the gem and launched it at the 1998 Dublin Film Festival. Based on the ballad 'The Night That Larry Was Stretched', sung by a young Johnny Moynihan, Ronnie Drew finds himself caught in a hangman's noose as a reward for his dubious career as "the best burglar in all Ireland". The film which is tongue-in-cheek (all the way) has the flavour of an Irish Spaghetti Western and captures the spirit of Dublin camaraderie like no other work before or since. The Guinness, the music, the wit and the grit, its all there in abundance. It says it all, when we see Ronnie fully decked-out in his stripy burglar outfit, trying to evade the law by disguising himself with a pioneer pin.
Ronnie Drew
O'Donoghue's Opera is an Irish film starring Ronnie Drew and his bandmates in The Dubliners. The film is a mock opera, based on the ballad "The Night Before Larry Was Stretched". It was shot in 1965, but was left uncompleted after the film's production ran into financial difficulties. In 1996 filmmaker Sé Merry Doyle oversaw its restoration, and it was first shown at the Dublin Film Festival in the late 1990s.- Wikipedia
The movie “O'Donoghue's Opera” on Google video; approx 37 minutes
“The Night Before Larry Was Stretched” is an Irish execution ballad written in the Newgate cant. The ballad is estimated to have been written around 1816. Will (Hurlfoot) Maher, a shoemaker from Waterford, wrote the song, though Dr. Robert Burrowes, the Dean of St. Finbar’s Cork, to whom it has been so often attributed, certainly did not. The Newgate cant in which the song was penned was a short-lived colloquial slang of 19th century Dublin. "This is only one of a group of execution songs written in Newgate Cant or slang style somewhere around 1780s, others being 'The Kilmainham Minuet', 'Luke Caffrey's Ghost' and 'Larry's Ghost' which, as promised in the seventh verse, comes in a sheet to sweet Molly."
Kimainham Gaol, Dublin
A French translation of the song called ' La mort de Socrate' was written by Francis Sylvester Mahony, better known as “Father Prout” for Froser’s Magazine and is also collected in 'Musa Pedestris, Three Centuries of Canting Songs and Slang Rhymes [1536―1896]', collected and annotated by John S. Farmer. In 'Ballads from the Pubs of Ireland', p. 29, James N. Healy attributes the song to a William Maher, (Hurlfoot Bill), but doesn't note when Maher lived. However, the song is attributed to a 'Curren' in 'The Universal Songster', 1828, possibly being J. Philpot Curran or J. W. Curren.
The song provides the narrative basis for the film 'O’Donoghue’s Opera' which was filmed in 1965 with members of The Dubliners with 'The Night Before Larry was Stretched' performed by Johnny Moynihan. Elvis Costello recorded the song on 1996's 'Common Ground — Voices Of Modern Irish Music'. The film and ballad is based on the strange but true premise that in Dublin jails the tradition grew up of the family and friends being allowed to wake the deceased when he was still alive (!) the night before the hanging as they would not receive the body afterwards as condemned prisoners were buried in quicklime pits in the prison grounds. This may seem strange today and it was a courtesy only extended to “Common Criminals” (Not murderers or political prisoners) at a time in the Georgian era when over 200 crimes, mainly against property, attracted the death penalty. Similarly families were allowed to bring food into prisons otherwise the prisoner would starve. Finally the hangman would be paid to get the prisoner drunk so he wouldn’t show fear on the scaffold.
I The night before Larry was stretched, The boys they all paid him a visit A bit in their sacks too they fetched They sweated their duds till they riz it For Larry was always the lad, When a friend was condemn’d to the squeezer, He’d sweat all the togs that he had Just to help the poor boy to a sneezer - And moisten his gob ’fore he died.
II The boys they came crowding in fast; They drew their stools close round about him, Six glims round his trap-case were placed For he couldn’t be well waked without ’em, When ax’d if he was fit to die, Without having duly repented? Says Larry, ‘That’s all in my eye, And all by the clargy invented, - To make a fat bit for themselves.
III ‘’I'm sorry dear Larry’, says I, ‘For to see you here in such trouble, And your life’s cheerful noggin run dry, And yourself going off like its bubble!’ ‘Hauld your tongue in that matter,’ says he; ‘For the neckcloth I don’t care a button, And by this time tomorrow you’ll see Your Larry will be dead as mutton: - And all 'cos his courage was good’
The Dubliners
IV "And then I'll be cut up like a pie, And me nob from me body be parted." "You're in the wrong box, then", says I, "For blast me if they're so hard-hearted. A chalk on the back of your neck Is all that Jack Ketch dares to give you; So mind not such trifles a feck, Sure why should the likes of them grieve you? - And now boys, come tip us the deck."
V Then the cards being called for, they play’d, Till Larry found one of them cheated; A dart at his napper he made The lad being easily heated, ‘So ye chates me bekase I’m in grief! O! is that, by the Hokey, the rason? Soon I’ll give you to know you d—d thief! That you’re cracking your jokes out of sason, - And scuttle your nob with my fist’.
VI Then the clergy came in with his book He spoke him so smooth and so civil; Larry tipp’d him a Kilmainham look, And pitch’d his big wig to the divil. Then raising a little his head, To get a sweet drop of the bottle, And pitiful sighing he said, ‘O! the hemp will be soon round my throttle, - And choke my poor windpipe to death!’
VII So mournful these last words he spoke, We all vented our tears in a shower; For my part, I thought my heart broke To see him cut down like a flower! On his travels we watch’d him next day, O, the throttler I thought I could kill him! But Larry not one word did say, Nor chang’d till he came to King William; - Then, musha, his colour turned white.
VIII When he came to the nubbing-cheat, He was tack’d up so neat and so pretty; The rambler jugg’d off from his feet, And he died with his face to the city. He kick’d too, but that was all pride, For soon you might see ’twas all over; And as soon as the noose was untied, Then at darkey we waked him in clover, - And sent him to take a ground-sweat.
This is a moving and sentimental ballad in 9/8 time about a lad who is about to be hung. They really did put your coffin (trap case) in your cell and let your friends in to wake you on the night before the hanging in Dublin around 1816. Glims are candles.
"Jack Ketch" was the generic name for the hangman, as "Chips" was for a ship's carpenter and so on; the original Jack Ketch was "the common executioner 1663(?)-1686. He became notorious on account of his barbarity at the executions of William Lord Russell and others." A "Kilmainham look" may be something like a Ringsend tango or a Ringsend uppercut (a kick in the groin) - or perhaps not. Kilmainham was the county jail in former times, and later was the scene of the execution of the leaders of the 1916 Rising. Larry may have been confined in Kilmainham or in the Green Street prison, the "new" Newgate which replaced the old Newgate in the 1770s. Kilmainham is remembered in another prison ballad called "The Kilmainham Minit", i.e., "minuet", the dance of the hanged man.
“He came to King William;” - This was an equestrian statue of King William of Orange, erected in 1701 at College Green in Dublin. Always controversial, it was repeatedly daubed, defaced and blown up; in 1929 it was blown up for the last time, and later broken up for smelting. Presumably the bold Larry was important enough to be hanged in the large public space of College Green rather than at the prison itself (Maurice Craig's book on Dublin - whence the information in this paragraph - included an old photo of Newgate, showing the hanging-apparatus over the main door, "as in most Irish gaols")
Few publicans in London can compare with Gerry O’Brien, colourful landlord of The Churchill Arms, who this weekend celebrates 25 years at the award-winning Kensington Church Street pub. I’ve a soft spot for Gerry as he hails from the County Clare and if I described him as a Mad Irishman he would take it as a compliment for he is a true eccentric and has made the Churchill Arms into something rare in London a brewery owned tenanted boozer with real character where people literally come from miles around to visit.
Churchill memorabilia in the bar
Now generally I am of the illiberal opinion that a brewery owned pub should be a capital offence negating a right to trial before execution. However the Brewery in question Fuller, Smith and Turner is one of the last traditional brewers based at the famous Chiswick Brewery in West London with family members still involved in running it and producing a proper range of real ales for which the name of their flagship ale, “London Pride” speaks for itself. Since taking over this typical London boozer 25 years ago Gerry has infused it with both his wacky contents and his unique personality and gained something of a cult following in the process.
On the outside, the Churchill is festooned with hanging baskets and window boxes, which regularly scoop up any flower awards going. On the inside, the pub is crammed full of dangling chamber pots, a collection of exotic butterflies, mementos of Winston Churchill and more hanging baskets. Oh and I forgot to mention Gerry’s collection of old radios “wirelesses” which I gave up counting after twenty. On the significant days in Gerry’s calendar — sporting events, St Patrick’s Day, any anniversary remotely connected to Churchill — the interior is further enlivened with all the balloons available in London in the appropriate colours. In case that was not enough, the host regularly makes his way tirelessly around the premises, sometimes with a fake Guinness glass to tip over the unwary. Favoured guests are tooted from the premises with an old car horn.
The irrepressible Gerry O'Brien, Landlord of the Churchill Arms
Now Gerry is having a big party at the Churchill to celebrate his 25 years, having turned what was a dull old boozer into a cornucopia of nutty passions. Not the least of these is his devotion to Thai food, of which his pub was the first purveyor in London. “We can shift some beer with this stuff,” he remembers thinking. There are few regrets but the smoking ban saddened him: “I miss the time of smoking — not cigarettes, but giving a light to a lady or seeing someone light up a pipe.”
The conservatory eating area
The Churchill Arms is, without doubt, one of the best and most famous pubs in the UK. You won't find a warmer welcome anywhere else. 'London in Bloom' winner two years in a row and from spring it is easy to see why - the flowers and baskets literally tumble off the outside of the pub. The food on offer is Thai but you can also enjoy a selection of English classics, the Sunday roasts are also very popular. Events are the speciality here - 'Churchill Night' (30th Nov) is a must, as are the patron saint days. Indeed Gerry must be the only Irishman to throw a birthday party for Churchill and patrons return the compliment by turning up on the day in boiler suits and ARP helmets. St George’s day, uniquely in London, gets the full Paddy’s Day treatment for Gerry is nothing if not inclusive. This is one London pub you will want to come back to again and again.
St George being saluted by the Churchill arms on the 23rd April, St George's Day
Many years ago Gerry roofed over the back courtyard of the Churchill Arms and franchised out the catering to a Thai family and introduced Thai food to London Pubs. For over 15 years, the highly skilled chefs at the Churchill Arms Thai Kitchen have been preparing authentic regional dishes. From the soft and mild tasting noodles "Pad Siew" to the very hot jungle paste curry of "Kaeng Par". Family recipes handed down through generations are served in the wonderful butterfly-themed conservatory. So come and meet Gerry, Powe, Tai and Po for a real taste of Thailand. This is not the Thai banquet food you get served in restaurants but hearty Thai country food served in an ample portion with an equally ample portion of perfect Thai sticky rice. It is for people who enjoy strong flavours and are hungry – not using food as a fashion statement!
Real Thai food!
Kensington Church Street where the Churchill Arms is situated meanders from High Street Kensington to Notting Hill which is the end where you’ll find the Churchill Arms. It is one of London’s more interesting streets being lined with antique shops and with the block of flats where TS Elliot lived and where his widow, Valerie, still does. Even in such august surroundings the Churchill Arms stands out in every way and either with friends or groups I’ve never failed to enjoy being there for good food and drink but above all for that something you can’t easily define real atmosphere. On a more practical note there is no where else in Kensington you can buy a pint of real ale to wash down real food and still have change from a tenner. So here’s wishing Gerry O’Brien from the County Clare slán agus beannacht leat for the next 25 years.
Churchill Arms 119 Kensington Church Street London W8 7LN
Ian Tomlinson being treated by Paramedics - Scotland Yard wrongly claimed on their website that police were pelted with rocks and glass as he was being treated - They later took down the claim
There is outrage in the UK that yet again there is one law for the public and another law for the police. An official decision to bring no charges against the policeman who struck Ian Tomlinson minutes before he died at the G20 protests came under intense scrutiny as it emerged that the Independent Police Complaints Commission had backed a prosecution for manslaughter.
Yesterday on the 22nd July, on the fifth anniversary of the shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes at Stockwell Tube station, the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) presented their report into the death of Ian Tomlinson, the newspaper seller killed in the City of London as he tried to make his way home past the police during the G20 protests on 1 April 2009.
Ian Tomlinson (1961/62 – 1 April 2009) was a British newspaper vendor who died in the City of London, London's financial district, during the 2009 G-20 London summit protests on his way home from work. A first post-mortem indicated that he had suffered a heart attack because of coronary artery disease, and had died of natural causes.
Ian Tomlinson walking past the police before he was struck
His death became controversial a week later when The Guardian Newspaper obtained video footage, taken by an investment fund manager from New York, showing that Tomlinson, who was not a protester, had been struck on the leg from behind by a police officer wielding a baton, then pushed to the ground by the same officer. The footage showed no provocation on Tomlinson's part, who at the time was walking along with his hands in his pockets. Dressed in a bright yellow reflective jacket, black uniform and helmet, Pc Harwood’s identity number was covered up and he had a scarf across the lower part of his face.
Let us now pause and toy with a remarkable statistic. Despite over 1,000 people dying in police custody or due to police action since the late 1960s if the police officer who the DPP said had assaulted Ian Tomlinson was charged with manslaughter it would have been the first time this has ever happened in Britain. Ask yourself the simple question - what is the statistical possibility that these over 1,000 human beings who died in police custody or as a result of police action were all killed lawfully? They include Blair Peach killed (according to the police’s own investigation) by a TSG member at an anti-racism demonstration in 1979, Jean Charles de Menezes shot with 3 bullets in the brain 5 years ago, Sean Rigg and Joy Gardiner who died in police stations and Harry Stanley, 46, from Hackney, east London, was shot in the head and the hand by the Met officers in 1999 carrying a chair leg in a plastic bag which the two officers thought was a sawn-off shot gun.
Ian Tomlinson being helped by a member of the public just after he was assaulted by PC Simon Harwood circled in the background. Police initially claimed they went to his assistance when he became ill and they had no previous contact with him
Keir Starmer, the director of public prosecutions, acknowledged there was evidence that the officer, named as PC Simon Harwood, assaulted Tomlinson minutes before he died. But he said there was no realistic prospect of conviction because of "sharp disagreements" between pathologists. He said the police officer captured on film striking Ian Tomlinson during the G20 protests in London will not face criminal charges over his death because of conflicting opinions about the cause of death. Dr Freddy Patel conducted the first post-mortem on Mr Tomlinson's body and ruled he had died of a heart attack. That was contradicted by two subsequent post-mortems, which both found that the 47-year-old died of internal bleeding caused by a blow to the abdomen.
The Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) also said it could not bring an assault charge because such a charge must be brought within six months, and it had taken 11 months to reach a decision. A charge of misconduct in public office was also considered, but rejected. But a direct challenge to the CPS also emerged tonight from Dr Nat Cary, the second forensic pathologist who examined Tomlinson's body. He told the Guardian prosecutors made a factual error in dismissing a charge of actual bodily harm. He said his report contained clear evidence that Tomlinson suffered injuries sufficient to support a charge of ABH. But the CPS dismissed the injuries as "relatively minor" and thus not enough to support a charge of ABH in its written reasons given to the family.
Cary, speaking for the first time about the case, told the Guardian: "I'm quite happy to challenge that. No the injuries were not relatively minor. It is a flawed approach. He sustained quite a large area of bruising. Such injuries are consistent with a baton strike, which could amount to ABH. It's extraordinary. If that's not ABH I would like to know what is."
The CPS said Patel's findings would provide a jury with enough reasonable doubt that the attack by the officer contributed to the death, and as a result they would acquit. By coincidence Patel today faced a disciplinary hearing at the General Medical Council for allegedly conducting four other autopsies incompetently. He could be struck off and the Home Office has suspended him from its approved list.
A police cordon during the G20 summit protests. Thousands of protesters had been "kettled" by cordons as Tomlinson was trying to make his way home.
But another entirely strange aspect of this tragic case emerged today. Pc Simon Harwood, 43, retired from the Met a decade ago on ill health grounds while facing a misconduct hearing for an alleged road rage incident. The officer was working for the Met during the 1990s when he was accused of a road rage incident while off duty, but retired on health grounds. He then rejoined the force as a civilian computer worker, before moving to Surrey Police as a Pc after passing a medical and vetting process, during which it is understood that he made a full disclosure of his background. He moved back to the Met in November 2004 and later given a place in the force's controversial Territorial Support Group (TSG) unit. The TSG are referred to by other police officers by their nickname “The Filth” as they have a fearsome reputation as “hardmen” even within the police service and officers who have “aggression issues” are often taken off front line policing and assigned to the TSG. One commentator asked why PC Harwood was facilitated in rejoining the service, a very good question which deserves a very good answer. Was he a brother Mason, perhaps?
Let us think how it would have happened if it was the other way around? If a police officer had been assaulted by a protestor and died minutes later. Would there have been “mistakes” in collecting evidence which meant charges were time expired? Would they have waited 16 months to decide not to prosecute? The police are paid from our taxes to protect us not to kill us. They must operate with our consent and within the Law and they must be held accountable.
The DPP decision in the Ian Tomlinson case is a whitewash which destroys confidence in the police and in the Rule of Law. No matter how much the Police talk about a new era of policing and enshrining the right to protest, the establishment has once again have allowed police officers to kill an innocent man.
The Guardian obtained this footage of Ian Tomlinson at a G20 protest in London shortly before he died. It shows Tomlinson, who was not part of the demonstration, being assaulted from behind and pushed to the ground by baton-wielding police.
Baggot Street Bridge with Parsons bookshop in the background on the Grand Canal, Dublin
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue; I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way, And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Raglan Road - Patrick Kavanagh 1946
People make big cities their own and give them a human scale and personal reference points by dividing them into villages. There is an urban village, which you will not see on maps of Dublin, known as Baggotonia, that village of lanes and gardens from the Grand Canal to Ballsbridge. Basically, the old Pembroke Township developed by the Pembroke’s (Earls of Wilton and Pembroke) Irish agents the Herbert’s from 1820 to 1838, just at the end of the Georgian and the beginnings of the Victorian age. This chronology ignores one of the more interesting British monarchs, William IV who reigned from 1830 to 1837. His reign saw several reforms: the poor law was updated, child labour restricted, slavery abolished in nearly all the British Empire, and the Reform Act in 1832 refashioned the British electoral system. There is a particular Irish interest for he had 10 children with the Irish actress Dorothea Bland (known as Mrs Jordan) but on his death his niece Princess Victoria of Kent became Queen as he had no legitimate heirs and his eldest son became Earl of Munster, his other offspring taking the surname FitzClarence and receiving titles. The British Prime Minister, David Cameron, is a direct descendant of their sixth child, Elizabeth FitzClarence. On his accession in 1830 as was the custom an election was called and Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington lost his position as Prime Minister.
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Waterloo Road, Dublin
Arthur Wellesley was Irish, the son of Lord Mornington, a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin and he had been an MP in the Irish Parliament which was abolished by the Act of Union in 1800. Two Irishmen called Wellesley were responsible for setting the course of British history in the 19th Century. Arthur by defeating Napoleon Bonaparte in 1815 at Waterloo and his elder brother Richard who established the rule of the British Crown in India and was later British Foreign Secretary and Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. The Duke of Wellington was not entirely proud of his native land for when asked did he consider himself Irish he spat in reply “My good man, because Jesus was born in a stable does not make him a horse!” Nevertheless this member of the Protestant Ascendancy and hugely reactionary Tory Prime Minister was widely commemorated in Ireland not least by the huge Wellington Memorial in the Phoenix Park. And when the Pembroke estate came to layout its land south of the Grand Canal at its heart were five imposing roads commemorating the “Iron Duke” lined with large houses which unlike their Georgian predecessors were set back from the road which with their great granite steps to their Piano Nobile gave them an imposing presence. The first great avenue was called Waterloo Road, the second Wellington Road after our local hero and the three off that were called Elgin, Clyde and Raglan after his commanders at Waterloo.
These roads are the core of Baggotonia which along with the stretch of the Grand Canal bordering it will always be associated with the Poet and Writer, Patrick Kavanagh. It is an area which became known for its bohemian inhabitants including this Sage who lived at one time on Waterloo Road and relished both its village feel and the fact it was only 10 minutes walk home from the centre of Dublin after a night out. Baggotonia has a High Street where its inhabitants meet, talk and replenish themselves, Upper Baggot Street, south of the Grand Canal. Some Dublin geography – the city centre is defined by the arcs of two canals, to the north the Royal Canal which goes from Spencer Dock on the River Liffey at Dublin to the River Shannon at Cloondara in County Longford and to the south the Grand Canal which joins the River Liffey at Grand Canal Dock and continues through to the River Shannon at Shannon Harbour in Co. Offaly with various branches, including a link to the River Barrow waterway at Athy. The centre is then divided into “Northside” which is from the Liffey to the Royal Canal and “Southside” which is from the river to the Grand Canal. In Dublin where a street is divided into “Lower” and “Upper” the “Lower” is the end nearer the Liffey and the “Upper” is the end furthest from the Liffey. Thus you walk over Baggot Street Bridge into Upper Baggot Street into Baggotonia leaving Dublin 2 and entering Dublin 4, the area which houses Embassies, the Royal Dublin Society where the famous Dublin Horse Show is held, leafy Herbert Park, the seaside “village” of Sandymount and the Rugby Stadium at Lansdowne Road.
Upper Baggot Street south of the Grand Canal, the High Street of Baggotonia
Baggot Street Upper has changed since Patrick Kavanagh’s time with the Royal Dublin Hospital now converted to upmarket apartments but still generally has the same mix of pubs, boutiques, coffee bars, restaurants and real shops such as Meagher’s Chemist and Weir’s Hardware store. If one place captured its essence for forty years from 1949 to 1989, Parsons Bookshop was a Dublin literary landmark and meeting place. Situated on the crest of Baggot Street’s Grand Canal Bridge, it defined the Bohemian quarter of writers and artists known as Baggotonia. Owned by May O’Flaherty who was ably assisted by Mary King and three other ladies, Parsons Bookshop played a major role in Ireland’s literary and cultural development. In this affectionate chronicle of a very special establishment, Brendan Lynch describes the Dublin literary and artistic scene from the fifties to the eighties. Parsons was a second home to Brendan Behan and Patrick Kavanagh, and other literary customers included Flann O’Brien, Liam O’Flaherty, Frank O’Connor, Mary Lavin and Seamus Heaney. Artist customers ranged from Louis le Brocquy, Patrick Scott, Patrick Pye, Michael Kane and Brian Bourke to the ultimate Bohemian, Owen Walsh, who occupied a local studio-cum-boudoir for the lifespan of the bookshop. I am the proud owner of his son Ronan Walsh’s 1983 painting “Eugenie on a Bicycle.” Archbishops of various denominations also worshipped at this shrine to literature, while political visitors ranged from senators and government ministers to Taoisigh Garrett Fitzgerald and Jack Lynch.
“Parsons, where one met as many interesting writers on the floor of the shop as on the shelves!” — Mary Lavin.
Lower Baggot Street
Patrick Kavanagh was born on 21 October 1904, in Mucker townland, Inniskeen parish, Co. Monaghan, the son of James Kavanagh, a small farmer with sixteen acres who was also a cobbler, and Bridget Quinn. He attended Kednaminsha National School from 1909 to 1916 and worked on the family farm after leaving school. For twenty years he lived a life as an ordinary young Irish farmer of the period, toiling for pocket money in fields he expected some day to inherit. However, he was often more interested in reading than farming and the farm horse 'Oul Glug' "knew the way home better than he did." Kavanagh began writing verses at a young age. He began submitting poems to local and national newspapers. He became increasingly dissatisfied with life as a small farmer, and in 1938 he left Inniskeen for London and remained there for about five months. In 1939 he finally settled in Dublin.
Kavanagh lived in Pembroke Road., Dublin, close to Raglan Road, from 1946 (the date of the poem) until 1958 and then at 19 Raglan Road itself from 1958 to 1959.
Raglan Road
His earliest poems were printed by the Dundalk Democrat and Weekly Independent, in1928; three more were printed by George Russell (Æ) in The Irish Statesman during 1929-30. In 1931 he walked to Dublin to meet Russell, who introduced him to Frank O'Connor. Ploughman and Other Poems was published by Macmillan in 1936; soon after he moved to London in search of literary work but returned to Ireland when this failed to offer a living. An autobiography, The Green Fool appeared in 1938 but was withdrawn after a libel threat from Oliver Gogarty. A long poem, perhaps his best, The Great Hunger, appeared in the London-based Horizon in 1942; its tragic statement of the mental and sexual frustrations of rural life was recognised as masterly by Frank O'Connor and George Yeats, who issued it in Dublin as a Cuala Press pamphlet; it seems also to have attracted the attention of the police and censors. Another fine long poem, Lough Derg, was written the same year though not published until 1971.
A Soul for Sale (1947) was followed by Tarry Flynn (1948), more realistic than the former autobiography, and called by the author 'not only the best but the only authentic account of life as it was lived in Ireland this century'; it was briefly banned.
Writers on Sandymount Strand; L-R; John Ryan, Anthony Cronin,Flann O'Brien, Patrick Kavanagh
Kavanagh first sang On Raglan Road (in public) sometime between August 1945 and April 1947; when he was employed on the Standard newspaper. Writer Benedict Kiely (1919-2007), then also working for the Standard, recalled Kavanagh walking into the office one day and saying, ‘there, sing that to that [On Raglan Road] to The Dawning of the Day’. The song, often known simply as "Raglan Road," has since been sung by the Dubliners, Van Morrison, Sinéad O'Connor, Dire Straits, Billy Bragg, Roger Daltrey and Loreena McKennitt among others.
Writer Benedict Kiely tells Ciarán Mac Mathúna how he thinks he was the first person to see the words of 'Raglan Road' written out and how Kavanagh asked him if he thought the poem could be sung to the air of 'The Dawning of the Day'. 1st Broadcast: 10 January 1979; Presenter: Ciarán MacMathúna .
Luke Kelly of the Dubliners explains how he met Patrick Kavanagh only once in the Bailey pub in Dublin in 1966. During this encounter Kavanagh told him he had a song for him. The song was 'On Raglan Road'. For many people Luke Kelly's interpretation of 'On Raglan Road' is the definitive one. Luke Kelly performs 'On Raglan Road' accompanied by Al O'Donnell. On Raglan Road’s melody is an almost perfect match for the traditional 18th century air Fáinne Geal an Lae - “the dawning of the day”, translated by Edward Walsh (1805-50),
On a mossy bank I sat me down, this maiden by my side, With gentle words I courted her; I asked her “be my bride”, She said "young man don't bring me shame" and swiftly turned away, And the sun’s first light, pursued her flight at the dawning of the day.
Kavanagh certainly knew The Dawning of the Day, which had been popularised by McCormack’s 1934 recording, and he himself matched lyric to melody. The structure of both songs is very similar, as is the theme of lost love. Kavanagh also retained the key refrain, “the dawning of the day” which is name checked in the last line. There are also similarities of phrasing: for example; “with gentle words I courted her” is surely echoed in Kavanagh’s “I gave her poems to say”?
Locks on the Grand Canal seen from Baggot Street Bridge
It was first published as a poem in the Irish Press on 3 October 1946 under the title "Dark Haired Miriam Ran Away." Peter Kavanagh, Kavanagh's brother said that "it was written about Patrick's girlfriend Hilda [Moriaty] but to avoid embarrassment he used the name of my girlfriend in the title." Patrick Kavanagh met Hilda Moriarty in 1944. The inspiration for the song, Hilda Moriarty from Dingle, Co. Kerry, was a medical student at University College, Dublin. “On an autumn day” in 1944, Kavanagh noticed her walking to college on Raglan Road, where he was living in lodgings at number 19, while subletting his flat round the corner at 62 Pembroke Road. Though he couldn’t afford to furnish or heat it, Kavanagh had rented the large apartment to impress the family of his then-fiancée, twenty-three-year-old Nola O’Driscoll, a daughter of Michael Collins’ sister Margaret. The engagement didn’t last very long but Nola never married anyone else. Because number 19 was then a boarding house, which imposed tiresome constraints on his independent lifestyle, Kavanagh stayed in the street that he would immortalize for only some six months: though he did move back there again in 1958. Strangely, the present-day tourist wall-plague makes no reference to his residency there in 1944-45, when and where he composed his best known work. The house is part of a substantial red-brick terrace.
Pembroke Road
Most of his earnings came from freelance journalism, which, owing to his abrasive style, did not lend itself to security of employment. Always independent-minded, always confident of his opinions, and never shy of expressing them, Kavanagh rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. As he became better known but no better off, he became embittered almost to the point of paranoia. His financial status was not helped by his complete inability to handle money and, from the late 1940s until his death, his increasing reliance on alcohol.
Patrick Kavanagh
Despite working as a journalist, Kavanagh was not an enthusiast for the genre, writing;
“It is impossible to read the daily press without being diverted from reality. You are full of enthusiasm for the eternal verities - life is worth living, and then out of sinful curiosity you open a newspaper. You are disillusioned and wrecked.”
With his brother Peter and financed by him, Patrick edited a paper, Kavanagh's Weekly, subtitled 'a journal of literature and politics' (13 issues; 12 April-5 July 1952); he contributed most of the articles and poems, usually under pseudonyms. In 1952 a Dublin paper, The Leader, published a profile which depicted him as an alcoholic sponger, and he sued for libel. He was harshly cross-examined by John A. Costello, defending The Leader, when the case came to trial in 1954, and he lost. The following year he was diagnosed with cancer and had a lung removed. My father once met him but in truth it was not too difficult to meet him as he was always being “introduced” in pubs if you looked like you might buy him a drink.
At this low point he experienced a sort of personal and poetic renewal; Recent Poems (1958), (Peter Kavanagh, Hand Press, New York), was followed by Come Dance with Kitty Stobling (London, Longmans, 1960); these contain some of his best known shorter poems. His Collected Poems were published in 1964 by MacGibbon and Kee who also brought out Collected Pruse (1967). Tarry Flynn was dramatised by P.J. O'Connor and produced by the Abbey Theatre in Dublin and in Dundalk in 1967.
Kavanagh did not take kindly to literary rivals and as the star of Brendan Behan began to rise, the relationship between the two writers degenerated into unforgiving hatred, particularly on Kavanagh’s part. For a time, Behan had everything that Kavanagh craved: literary success, money, international fame and women fawning over him. Kavanagh, who considered himself the superior talent, was not amused. Behan, considering himself to be a city slicker, dismissed country people as “culchies”. As far as he was concerned, the sooner “the fu#ker from Mucker” returned to his “stony grey Monaghan hills” the better. Kavanagh, weary of the obvious rhyme since childhood, was not amused. (Mucker means “place of the pigs”). Kavanagh retaliated by refusing to stand for the National Anthem, because, he said, it was written by “Behan’s oul granny”! (It was in fact written by Behan’s uncle Peadar Kearney).
When the two first met, they had been on friendly-enough terms and Behan, a painter by trade, volunteered to decorate Kavanagh’s Pembroke Road apartment. Later, Behan would joke that it was the only flat in Dublin, ankle deep in empty soup tins, old newspapers, beer and whiskey bottles, that you had to wipe your feet after leaving!
Behan and Kavanagh reunited in the Wax Museum Dublin - In reality they were the best of enemies
The enmity between the two men was cemented in 1954, when Kavanagh sued the Leader magazine for a nasty, anonymous article about him, portraying him as an egotistical, drunken loudmouth. He mistakenly suspected the hand of Behan and hoped to collect considerable damages without the case ever coming to court. However, the Leader defended the action: there was a long drawn out trial and appeal, the stress of which impacted negatively on Kavanagh’s health. During the trial, he bitterly denounced Behan. However, the defence produced a copy of his novel Tarry Flynn, inscribed “to my friend Brendan Behan, on the day he painted my flat”. This helped convince the court that Kavanagh was untrustworthy and he lost the case. Although he later won on appeal, no financial compensation was awarded.
Searson’s pub
On 19 October 1959, or in the early hours of the 20th, Kavanagh was involved in a bizarre incident which left him floundering in the Grand Canal. Patrick claimed that it was an “assassination bid”, by gangsters whom he had exposed in a magazine article. Others were inclined to the view that that he had simply fallen in after a session in Searson’s pub at 42 Upper Baggot Street. The bridge wall is solid and fairly high and it’s difficult to imagine how anyone could fall over it. Perhaps he had tried to cross by one the rickety, wooden lock gates or perhaps he was victim of an “ordinary decent” mugging. The mystery deepens considering that both Searson’s and Baggot Lane, where he was then living, are on the same, southern, side of the Canal. It’s possible that after leaving Searson’s, he met friends, crossed the Canal with them, had more drinks and fell, or was thrown in, on his return journey.
Whatever the truth, Behan managed to turn the situation into another joke at Kavanagh’s expense. Denying involvement, he allegedly whispered, “I wish, though, I could lay my hands on the bollix that pulled him out”! For his part, Kavanagh took to describing himself as “the man they couldn’t kill”!
His later years were to be plagued by ill health and continued financial concerns. In 1955, he survived surgery for lung cancer and had problems with his liver and kidneys as well as thrombosis. He was in debt to just about everyone: publishers (advances didn’t last long), taxman, utility providers, landlord, family and friends. He suffered from insomnia and began to take sleeping pills. He was a lifelong heavy smoker, he had little concept of a healthy diet and he was by now a virtual alcoholic, sneaking bottles of whiskey into pubs to fortify his beer. When he remarked, “not bad stuff at all this beer, it sets up a buzz”, his friends winked knowingly.
Inexorably, Kavanagh became trapped in a vicious circle: the more he drank, the less he worked. The less he worked, the less he earned. The less he earned, the more he worried. The more he worried, the more he drank. He was well aware of his situation, saying: “alcohol is the enemy of creativity”; but he couldn’t break the cycle. The misery of this period was however alleviated by his ever growing literary reputation and by his relationship with Katherine Barry Moloney (1928-89), an aunt of Kevin Barry, whom he had lived with, on and off, for a number of years and who devotedly cared for him. They married on 19 April 1967. Patrick sang On Raglan Road at the reception.
In and out of hospitals, “another of my addictions”, he finally succumbed and died of pneumonia on 30 November 1967. One of his best friends and staunchest supporters, writer, and owner of the Bailey pub, John Ryan (1925-92), summed up his brilliant but chaotic life well.
“Did he not, like the patriarch, show us the Promised Land? And, like the prophet, fail to attain it himself”?
In 2000 the Irish Times surveyed 'the nation's favourite poems' and ten of Kavanagh's poems were in the first fifty. His poem 'Raglan Road', written to be sung, was performed by the folk group, The Dubliners, and remains very popular. The Great Hunger was adapted for the theatre by Tom MacIntyre, and produced in Dublin (Abbey Theatre, 1983).
There is a statue of Kavanagh by Dublin's Grand Canal, inspired by his poem "Lines written on a Seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin." Every 17 March, after the St Patrick's Day parade, a group of Kavanagh's friends gather at the Kavanagh seat on the banks of the Grand Canal at Mespil road in his honour. There is also another, original, seat situated on the South Bank at the Lock Gates close to Baggot Street Bridge (As is well known from his poem and heavy hints to his friends, he wished to be commemorated with a simple canal side seat near the lock gates of Baggot Street Bridge). It was errected by his friends, led by John Ryan and Denis Dwyer, in 1968.
Lines written on a Seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin.
"Erected in Memory of Mrs. Dermot O'Brien” by Patrick Kavanagh
O commemorate me where there is water, Canal water preferably, so stilly Greeny at the heart of summer. Brother Commemorate me thus beautifully. Where by a lock Niagariously roars The falls for those who sit in the tremendous silence Of mid-July. No one will speak in prose Who finds his way to these Parnassian islands. A swan goes by head low with many apologies, Fantastic light looks through the eyes of bridges - And look! a barge comes bringing from Athy And other far-flung towns mythologies. O commemorate me with no hero-courageous Tomb - just a canal-bank seat for the passer-by.
Next to the Ulysses Industry deciphering James Joyce there is an almost equivalent industry deciphering On Raglan Road.
It is not a problem to Dubliners who don’t have difficulty interpreting On Raglan Road. Apart from the obvious, the line "and I not making hay" may refer to his absence from Inniskeen during the autumn haymaking because of his obsession with Hilda Moriarty, or his unemployment in Dublin at the time.
Grafton Street is Dublin's principal shopping street, running from St. Stephen's Green in the south to College Green in the north. In the 1970s Noel Purcell sang "Grafton Street's a wonderland with magic in the air . . .". The street was named after the first Duke of Grafton, who owned land in the area. It was developed from an existing country lane by the Dawson family in 1708, after whom the parallel Dawson Street is named. Street entertainers such as buskers, poets and mime artists commonly perform to the shopping crowds.
Grafton Street, Dublin
However the main thing to remember about Raglan Road is that it is an allegorical tale of unrequited love. Allegory is used often in Irish poetry and song for during British Rule references to Irish Freedom were often coded, but understood by the listener. So a song might refer to “My Dark Rosaleen” meaning Ireland and say “Spanish wine will give you strength” expressing the hope that England’s enemy would help Ireland’s liberation. Allegory exists in many cultures in tales, song and poetry especially to express love, longing and loneliness from the Gaelic, Aishling, a vision represented by young women to the Hindu Maya, an incarnation of the Goddess Devi represented by a pure young girl.
Indeed On Raglan Road probably “works” because it isn’t “joined up” and creates a sense of mystery about what is being sung so that the listener makes the song their own by filling in the gaps. If On Raglan Road was a painting it would certainly be an Impressionistic offering probably with the title “Heartbreak; An Impression.”
Sinéad O'Connor sings On Raglan Road on the Late Late Show Donal Lunny Tribute
On Raglan Road
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue; I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way, And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge, The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay O I loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that's known To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say. With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay - When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his wings at the dawn of day.
In an interview filmed for the documentary 'Gentle Tiger', Hilda Moriarty-O'Malley, who inspired 'On Raglan Road', explains the origins of the poem. Actor John Kavanagh sings an extract from 'On Raglan Road'.
Today, Kavanagh is ranked among the giants of twentieth century Irish literature alongside the likes of Joyce, O’Casey and Yeats. His work, utilising “the language of the people”, is unpretentious but very “real”, characterized by lyricism, seriousness and uncompromising honesty. For Kavanagh, poetry was no mere dilettantish diversion: it was a way of life, profoundly spiritual, almost a form of prayer.
As for his life, often lonely, often unhappy, often unhealthy, often dissolute he anticipated and set his legacy in Baggotonia;
On Pembroke Road look out for my ghost, Dishevelled with shoes untied, Playing through the railings with little children Whose children have long since died
He knew that posterity has no use For anything but the soul, The lines that speak the passionate heart, The spirit that lives alone.
(in public) sometime between August 1945 and April 1947; when he was employed on the Standard newspaper. Writer Benedict Kiely (1919-2007), then also working for the Standard, recalled Kavanagh walking into the office one day and saying, ‘there, sing that to that [On Raglan Road] to The Dawning of the Day’. The song, often known simply as "Raglan Road," has since been sung by the Dubliners, Van Morrison, Sinéad O'Connor, Dire Straits, Billy Bragg, Roger Daltrey and Loreena McKennitt among others.
