A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes - Everything You've Ever Wanted to Know About Irish History: Fascinating Snippets of Irish History from the Ice Age to the Peace Process

by Jonathan Bardon

Overview

THE ONLY BOOK ON IRISH HISTORY YOU'LL EVER NEED!From invasions to rebellions, heroic martyrs to pragmatic politicians, industrial development to mass emigration, A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes by renowned Irish historian Jonathan Bardon will take you on a sweeping journey through Irish history, getting behind the historical headlines to reveal the lived experience of Irish people.Written in easy-to-read bitesize episodes, Bardon's original and engaging style will make you feel as though you're alongside William Smith O'Brien and his rebels at the Battle of Widow McCormack's Cabbage Patch, traversing the country to banish snakes and convert Celts with St Patrick, and feasting with the Spanish Armada's Captain Francisco de Cuellar and his wild Irish hosts. From taking up arms with the United Irishmen at Vinegar Hill to standing in solidarity with the workers of the Dublin 1916 Lockout, A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes will take you right to the heart of Irish history.Featuring a cast of characters that leap off the page, from the well-known, like the hero of the War of Independence, Michael Collins, to the quirky, such as Susannah Cibber, the first soprano to sing Handel's Messiah, A History of 250 Episodes will thrill, excite and inform you from start to finish. Whether you dip in and out of episodes or devour it from cover to cover, Bardon's must-have book will teach you everything you've ever wanted to know about Irish history and much, much more beyond.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780717157549
Publisher:	Gill Books
Publication date:	10/31/2008
Sold by:	Bookwire
Format:	eBook
Pages:	576
File size:	5 MB

About the Author

Jonathan Bardon is one of Ireland's most eminent historians. A former lecturer in History at Queen's University Belfast, he is also the author of several books now widely acknowledged as classic works of Irish historiography, including A History of Ulster (2001), The Plantation of Ulster (2011) and A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes (2008). In 2002, he was awarded an OBE (Order of the British Empire) for his services to community life in Northern Ireland. His most recent book, Hallelujah, is a fascinating look at the first performance of Handel's Messiah in eighteenth-century Dublin.
Jonathan Bardon is one of Ireland’s most eminent historians. A former lecturer in History at Queen’s University Belfast, he is also the author of several books now widely acknowledged as classic works of Irish historiography, including A History of Ulster (2001), The Plantation of Ulster (2011) and A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes (2008). In 2002, he was awarded an OBE (Order of the British Empire) for his services to community life in Northern Ireland. His most recent book, Hallelujah, is a fascinating look at the first performance of Handel’s Messiah in eighteenth-century Dublin.

Read an Excerpt

Episode 218 Easter Week

During the afternoon of Easter Monday 24 April 1916 a party of Lancers trotted into Dublin’s O’Connell Street to investigate reported disturbances. As they approached the Nelson Pillar, Volunteers in the General Post Office opened fire. Four of the soldiers fell dead. Soon afterwards, Ernie O’Malley, an eighteen-year-old medical student, saw local people looting public houses, while in the middle of O’Connell Street seated on a dead horse was a woman, a shawl around her head, untidy wisps of hair straggled across her dirty face. She swayed slowly, drunk, singing: ‘Boys in khaki, boys in blue, here’s the best of jolly good luck to you.’

Over much of the centre of Dublin insurgents had seized the initiative. Already, however, the crown forces were recovering control. An attack on Dublin Castle, begun by shooting dead an unarmed policeman in cold blood, had failed in spite of the fact that a mere handful of soldiers had been available to defend it. Only two railway stations had been seized, and the Shelbourne Hotel, looming high over St Stephen’s Green, had not been taken. Military barracks ringing the city now filled up with soldiers returning from the races. Troops were brought in from the Curragh Camp in Co. Kildare.

Above all, the people had not risen in support. The poor poured out of the tenements and concentrated their energies on looting the shops. The numbers of Irish Volunteers and Citizen Army men and boys numbered less than two thousand. They had no artillery or machine-guns, and their rifles, for the most part, were antiquated single-shot German Mausers.

South of the city centre, at Boland’s Mills, Commandant Eamon de Valera sent men up to Mount Street Bridge to hold back any approaching troops. Here Michael Malone took command. He ordered houses overlooking the bridge to be barricaded with bicycles, furniture and sacks of flour. On Wednesday morning a column of 2,000 soldiers, most of them recently disembarked Sherwood Foresters, advanced with fixed bayonets from Ballsbridge. With just a few men Malone inflicted devastating fire on the soldiers. Again and again officers with their swords flashing in the sun ordered their men to advance against these hidden snipers. One resident, Mrs Ismena Rohde, witnessed the slaughter: ‘The poor fellows fell in rows without being able to return a shot. It was ghastly for those who saw it.’ An English visitor also left a vivid record:

A poor girl ran out on to the bridge while yet the bullets from rifles and revolvers were flying thickly from both sides. She put up both her hands, and almost instantly the firing ceased… The girl picked up the soldier… It was a throbbing incident that brought tears to the eyes… She pushed an apron down his trousers to staunch the blood. He was shot in the small of the back and in the thigh. He was a Sherwood Forester, and the little girl was crying over him.

The British army deployed the same tactics in the streets as they used on the Western Front—and with similar results. Sustaining around 230 casualties, the Sherwoods eventually prevailed, and Malone was shot dead.

Everywhere the insurgents were on the defensive, sleepless and suffering heavy losses.

The government had proclaimed martial law on Tuesday. On Wednesday a fishery protection vessel, the Helga, steamed up the Liffey to shell rebel positions. Artillery pieces in the grounds of Trinity College proved much more effective. On Thursday their shells fell with increasing intensity on O’Connell Street. Snipers on the roofs and squads equipped with automatic weapons closed in on the insurgents. James Connolly was no longer able to exercise command. Severely wounded, he survived on injections of morphine provided by a captured doctor in the GPO. Michael O’Rahilly, better known as ‘The O’Rahilly’, took over command. Pounded by howitzers firing shrapnel and incendiary shells, much of O’Connell Street became engulfed in a firestorm. The O’Rahilly’s nephew, Dick Humphries, fighting as a Volunteer alongside his uncle, recalled:

Suddenly some oil works near Abbey Street is singed by the conflagration, and immediately a solid sheet of blinding death-white flame rushes hundreds of feet into the air with a thunderous explosion which shakes the walls. It is followed by a heavy bombardment as hundreds of drums explode. The intense light compels one to close the eyes… Millions of sparks are floating in masses for hundreds of yards around O’Connell Street and as a precaution we are ordered to drench the barricades with water again… Crimson-tinged men moved around dazedly. Above it all the sharp crack of rifle fire predominates, while the deadly rattle of the machine-gun sounds like the coughing laughter of jeering spirits.

When during Friday further intensive shelling set the GPO’s roof ablaze, it was clear to all defenders that the end was near.