AROUND THE CAPITAL CITY OF IRELAND
The next morning after breakfast, Mr. O’Neill drove his motor car in
front of the house, and Miss O’Neill, Mike and I joined him for a day
around Dublin.
I took my seat beside Mr. O’Neill, and Mike and Edith sat together in
the rear.
We had a delightful day, and the memory of that trip around this
interesting city will always be one of my happiest memories.
Our first visit was Trinity College, with its campus of 47 acres in
the heart of Dublin. The main building, at the entrance, is a noble
structure. We entered Examination Hall, where many an Irish brain has
been violently cudgelled at examination time. There is a fine portrait
hung on its walls of Queen Elizabeth, who founded Trinity. The chapel
is a modest building. The Library is famed as containing Brian Boru’s
harp. It is said that this harp suggested to Moore his ode on Tara.
Here we also saw the “Book of Kells”, so called because it came from
the Monastery at Kells.
In this book the four gospels are written out with exquisite
penmanship, on leaves embossed with gold, and beautifully illuminated.
We doubt if there is a more beautiful book in the world.
Coming out of Trinity, Mr. O’Neill called our attention to the statues
of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith, which adorn the entrance. These
are two of the most famous of Trinity’s sons.
Opposite the entrance to Trinity is the old Parliament House, in which
in former days the Irish Parliament met. It is now used by the bank of
Ireland. It was in this building that Grattan thundered his anathemas
against the foes of Ireland.
Dublin is a city of monuments. As Mr. O’Neill showed them to us, we
began to have a better appreciation of the number of eminent men whom
Ireland has given to the world.
High above them all, in the centre of the city, is a lofty pillar, 134
feet high, erected to the honor of the great English Admiral, Lord
Nelson. From the base of Nelson’s monument street cars start in all
directions.
Daniel O’Connell’s monument is a fitting tribute to Ireland’s great
Liberator. It is 12 feet high and is surrounded by a number of smaller
figures. There are also statues of the two great Irish Statesmen,
remarkable for their patriotic eloquence, Henry Grattan, and John
Philpot Curran.
Mr. O’Neill also pointed out the statue to Father Mathew, which stands
in a central place. It is a noble work of art, done in marble, and is
worthy of the Apostle of Temperance. Thomas Moore, the gifted poet, has
been honored by his countrymen also, although his poems will keep his
memory green as long as time lasts.
A statue to Charles Stewart Parnell is to be erected Mr. O’Neill told
us. O’Neill has been a great admirer of Parnell, and the tragic close
of his life grieved him much.
We had a delightful time in Phoenix Park. This unrivalled combination
of forest and meadow, flowerbeds and fountains, driveways and lawns,
covers 1700 acres, and is a credit to Ireland.
There is a statue of the Duke of Wellington, Ireland’s foremost
soldier, in Phoenix Park. It is like Washington’s Monument in
Washington, except that it is only one-third as large.
We visited the zoological gardens in the Park. Here we saw a marvelous
collection of all kinds of animals.
As we went through the Monkey house, Mike said to Edith: “In America
some wise men think we sprang from monkeys.”
“The Irish didn’t,” she said gaily, “we never _sprang from anybody_. We
sprang at them.”
As we laughed at her wit, Mike remarked:
“I have always objected to having a monkey tied on to my family tree.”
Mr. O’Neill took us to the Viceregal lodge, which is in Phoenix Park,
where the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland lives in the summer time, and
we had a brief audience with His Excellency. He professed to be much
pleased to see us, and was greatly interested in our aerial exploits in
the Irish atmosphere.
We also visited Dublin Castle, the center of Irish history for
centuries. We saw there the tower in which Robert Emmet and Lord Edward
Fitzgerald were confined, over a century ago, after their ill-fated
rebellions. Oliver Cromwell resided in this castle for a time. William
III. visited it in 1690. The Castle is at present the scene of many
gay social events during the winter months, when the Lord Lieutenant
resides in it.
Stephen’s Green is an aristocratic suburb of twenty-two acres in the
heart of Dublin. It is a big square, surrounded by the mansions of the
rich and titled of Dublin’s citizenship.
We motored also a little to the south of Dublin and visited Clontarf,
where the famous battle was fought on Good Friday in 1014 between
the Irish and the Danes. In this battle Brian Boru was killed. Brian
marched his army that day from Phoenix Park, where he was encamped, and
defeated the Danes, but one of the fleeing Danish generals slew the
aged Brian.
There are two famed Cathedrals in Dublin. St. Patrick’s Cathedral,
where Dean Swift formerly preached, is a fine cruciform church, in the
early pointed style. In it there are monuments to both the Dean and
“Stella” his wife. This Cathedral was founded in 1190 but had varied
experiences in history. It was “restored” in 1865, at a cost of over
$800,000, by Sir Benjamin Guinness.
The Roman Catholic Pro-Cathedral is in Marlborough Street, and is
built in Doric style. The magnificent altar is of white marble. The
music in the services is especially fine.
We planned to leave Dublin the first of the next week and continue our
way southward. We spent a quiet Sunday at “Shaneville” attending divine
services with the O’Neills.
The next morning Edith obtained permission from her father and mother
to take her much anticipated flight over Dublin. The ascent was made
at ten o’clock. Edith was dressed in a neat-fitting white dress, with
white gloves and veil to match, when she appeared on the lawn, ready to
start. She looked so charming as she seated herself in the aeroplane,
that I could not help exclaiming.
“These Irish birds are rare creatures.”
“Watch the Irish dove and the American Eagle soar,” said Mike, as he
started the motor. We waved goodbye as the aeroplane rose in the air,
and disappeared over the trees.
While they were gone Mr. O’Neill took me for a final stroll over his
pleasant grounds.
“I have never visited America,” he told me, “but I am anxious to
cross the Atlantic, and see your marvelous country. America holds the
future.” He expressed high admiration for the leaders in America,
especially President Roosevelt and William Jennings Bryan.
“I met Mr. Bryan a few years ago here in Dublin,” he said. “We were
all delighted with him. He is a great and good man. He told me there
was Irish blood in his veins and he was proud of it.” Mr. O’Neill also
expressed the highest admiration for Abraham Lincoln, and called him a
benefactor to all the world.
I cordially invited him to visit the land of the Stars and Stripes.
In half an hour Edith and Mike returned. Mike circled over the house,
in his usual way before alighting and then made a good landing just
where he had started from.
With her face flushed and happy, Edith stepped lightly to the grass.
“Papa, papa,” she cried, as Mr. O’Neill came forward to greet her, “You
must get an aeroplane.”
“My child,” said her fond parent, “I am afraid this old bird has walked
too long to learn to fly now.”
“What did you see?” I asked.
“O, everything,” she answered, “it was grand. We went away out as far
as the Golf Grounds at Malahide, and all over Phoenix Park. Won’t you
come back again Mr. Connor,” she said, turning to Mike who was standing
beside his airship.
Mike took off his cap and bowed.
“I surely will,” he said so emphatically, that the color came to
Edith’s cheeks.
As I looked at them, already such cordial friends, and realized that
they had never met until a few days before, I said to myself:
“It’s the Irish atmosphere.”