Saturday, August 29, 2015

Flags and other images of 1916

Cumann na mBan was formed in early 1914 as a women’s auxiliary of the Irish Volunteers, which became the Irish Republican Army (IRA) in 1919 and the war for independence. Cumann na mBan continued then and after the civil war as part of the IRA.











The Irish Citizen Army was formed during the Dublin lockout in late 1913 to protect workers from the police. It joined with the Irish Volunteers (formed earlier in 1913) for the 1916 uprising.



The Irish Republic flag was raised over the General Post Office on August 24, Easter Monday, 1916.


Monday, August 24, 2015

MARCACH: horseman; EACH: horse

Each, g. eich, pl. id., eacha and eachra(idh, coll.), m., a horse, a steed; e. Spáinneach, a variety of short horse; e. riata, a trained or coach horse; e. uisce, a water-horse, a mythical inhabitant of lakes (Con., Don.); e. réais, a race-horse; e. cóimhlionga, id., al. a dromedary; e. sléibhe, See under earc [a species of lizard found on moors; al. a term of reproach for a person]; d’e., on horseback. See under cor [cór capall, a troop of horses]; sluagh laighean idir cois agus e., the Leinster forces both mounted and foot; cóiste sé n-e., a coach and six; e. gan srian, an unbridled horse, fig. of fruitless effort; fir na n-e., the horsemen; ar muin an eich, on horseback; mara gcuiridh tú uait na h-eacha tá fút cuirfidh siad earóg ort, if you do not give over the capers you will rue it.

Eachach, -aighe, a., abounding in horses

Eachaidhe, g. id., m., a horseman, a jockey.

Eachaire, g. id., pl. -rí, m., a stable- or horse-boy.

Eachán, -áin, pl. id., m., a reel to wind yarn (O’R.).

Eachan, -ain, m., wind, storm; e. gaoithe., a whirlwind.

Eachanach, -aighe, a., stormy, windy.

Eachlach, -igh, pl. id., m., a horseman, a courier, a cavalryman, hence a messenger, one to tell the tale (after a battle); e. úsláir, a domestic servant; bain-e., a woman courier.

Eachlais, -e, -í, f., a lazy woman; a slattern (used also of a man).

Eachlann, -ainne, -anna, f., a stable; smt. g. -ainn, m..

Eachlsc, -aisce, -a, f., a rod, a whip, a horse-lash; eachlarca ban sídhe, fairy women’s whips, a plant name; al. eachlairc; each-fhlearc (Aur.).

Eachlascaim, --ascadh, v. tr., I horsehwip, I lash.

Each-liaigh, m., a veterinary surgeon.

Each-luath, a., of the swift steeds; an epithet of a prince, warrior, etc.

Eachmaire, g. id., pl. -rí, m., a stallion.

Eachmairt, -e, f., desire of copulation in horses; act of copulation; faoi e., said of a mare in season.

Eachrach, a., handy. See acrach. [Acrach, -aighe, a., convenient, useful, obliging, civil; bean a., a concubine; beidh t’anam-sa go hacrach ar theintibh ceap, your soul will be conveniently settled in the fires (P. F.).]

Eachrach, -aighe, a., abounding in horses, “horsey”; is e. srianta iad, they are well equipped with horses and bridles; e. éideach, mounted and mailed.

Eachraidh, -e, pl. id., m. and f. (coll.), steeds, horses, cavalry; e. ’charlaibh, a team of horses; e ghruagach, a stud of horses with flowing manes; an e. sídhe, the fairy horsemen; smt. eachra, eachradh.

Eachraidhe, pl., accoutrements for a horse as in ploughing, etc.; an bhfuil na he. go léir agat? have you all the accoutrements? (S. O’L.).

Eachraidheas, -dhis, m., harness, etc. U.).

Eachrais, -e, f., a way a road; a passage; a sally; e. con agus giollaí an dúna, a passage for the hounds and servants of the fortress.

Marc, g. mairc, pl. id. and -a, m., a horse; ar muin mairc a chéile, huddled together, in a state of entanglement or disorder.

Marcach, -aigh, pl. id. and -aighe, m., a horseman, a rider, a knight, a noble; a little grain growing by the side or root of a grain of corn; mac uicht, mac ochta (uchta), id.; (Mac Uchta is the appropriate name of a hill near Errigal); m. duana reachaire ghabhas dán, a rider of verse, i.e., a reciter of a poem; m. trúpa, a trooper.

Marcach, -aighe, a., abounding in steeds; al. -mharceach in compd.; ban-mh., female (of horses; Contr.).

Marcachas, -ais, m., horsemanship, riding; do mh. fá gcamallaibh i gcasc chiartha, your gloomy faring in a dark coffin (Br.).

Marcaidhe, g. id., pl. -dhthe, m., a horseman, a rider.

Marcaidheacht, -a, f., act of riding; horsemanship; a ride, a lift, cavalry; dá chéad ar m., two hundred horse (F.F.); fuair sé m., he got a ride on a horse, a drive on a car, etc.; m. ar ghabhar, a ride on a goat; ag m. ar an gcadán, crossing the sea, al. being transported.

Marcán, -áin, pl. id., m., a horseman (Don. Q. L.).

Marc-fhlaith, m., a cavalier.

Marclach, -aigh, m., a cavalcade, a wedding party mounted (Or.); al. a horse-load; a rider, a cavalry-man; al. márclach, málcrach, ⁊c.

Marclann, -ainne, -a, f., a stable.

Marclannach, -aigh, pl. id., m., a groom; an hostler (O’N.).

Marcradh, -aidhe, f., horses, steeds, cavalry.

Marc-shluagha, a., a cavalcade; coll.. horsemen, riders, cavalry.

Marc-shluaghach, a., belonging to cavalry.

Marchuighim, vl. marcaidheacht, v. intr., I ride on horseback, drive on a car, etc., with ar; m. ar each, I ride a horse; smt. without ar.

—Foclóir Gaedhilge agus Béarla, 1927, by Patrick Dinneen

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Monbiot: Chasing “the center” is hopeless politics

George Monbiot writes:

... To imagine that Labour could overcome such odds [to win the 2020 general election] by becoming bland, blurred and craven is to succumb to thinking that is simultaneously magical and despairing. Such dreamers argue that Labour has to recapture the middle ground. But there is no such place; no fixed political geography. The middle ground is a magic mountain that retreats as you approach. The more you chase it from the left, the further to the right it moves.

As the social philosopher Karl Polanyi pointed out towards the end of the second world war, when politics offers little choice and little prospect of solving their problems, people seek extreme solutions. Labour’s inability to provide a loud and proud alternative to Conservative policies explains why so much of its base switched to Ukip at the last election. Corbyn’s political clarity explains why the same people are flocking back to him.

Are they returning because he has tailored his policies to appeal to the hard right? Certainly not. They are returning because he stands for something, something that could help them, something that was not devised by a row of spadbot mannikins in suits, consulting their clipboards on Douglas Alexander’s sofa.

Nothing was more politically inept than Labour’s attempt before the election to win back Ukip supporters by hardening its stance on immigration. Why vote for the echo when you can vote for the shout? What is attractive about a party prepared to abandon its core values for the prospect of electoral gain? What is inspiring about a party that grovels, offering itself as a political doormat for any powerful interest or passing fad to wipe its feet on?

In an openDemocracy article, Ian Sinclair compares Labour’s attempts to stop Corbyn with those by the Tories in 1974-75 to stop Margaret Thatcher. Divisive, hated by the press, seen by her own party as an extremist, she was widely dismissed as unelectable. The Tory establishment, convinced that the party could win only from the centre, did everything it could to stop her. ...

The Labour mainstream likes to pretend that Blair’s only breach of faith was the Iraq war. The marketisation of the NHS, the private finance initiative, the criminalisation of peaceful protest, collusion in the kidnap and torture of dissidents from other nations, the collapse of social housing – I could fill this page with a list of such capitulations to greed and tyranny. Blair’s purges, stripping all but courtiers from the lists of potential candidates, explain why the party now struggles to find anyone under 50 who looks like a leader.

The capitulations continued under Ed Miliband, who allowed the Conservative obsession with the deficit and austerity to frame Labour politics. As Paul Krugman explains, austerity is a con that does nothing but harm to the wealth of this nation. It has been discredited everywhere else: only in Britain do we cling to the myth. Yet Miliband walked willingly into the trap. His manifesto promised to “cut the deficit every year” and to adopt such cruel Tory policies as the household benefits cap.

You can choose, if you wish, to believe that this clapped-out, alienating politics – compounded by such gobsmacking acts of cowardice as the failure to oppose the welfare bill – can capture the mood of the nation, reverse Labour’s decline and secure an extra hundred seats. But please stop calling yourself a realist.

Rebuilding a political movement means espousing what is desirable, then finding ways to make it feasible. The hopeless realists propose the opposite. They assemble a threadbare list of policies they consider feasible, then seek to persuade us that this package is desirable. If they retain core values, they’ve become so muddled by tacking and triangulation as to be almost indecipherable.

... the longer Labour keeps repeating the same mistakes – reinforcing the values it should be contesting – the further to the right it will push the nation, and the more remote its chances of election will become. The task is to rebuild the party’s values, reclaim the democratic debate, pull the centre back towards the left and change ... the soul of the nation.

Because Labour’s immediate prospects are so remote, regardless of who wins this contest, the successful candidate is likely to be a caretaker, a curator of the future. His or her task must be to breathe life back into politics, to recharge democracy with choice, to ignite the hope that will make Labour electable again. Only one candidate proposes to do that.

Thursday, August 06, 2015

CUIR: put, send

Cuirim, vl. cur (smt. cuir), v. tr. and intr., I put, place, fix, set; plant, sow, bury; shed; send; cause or arrange (to have done, get done); chuir sé a chor i dtalamh, he got a good foothold, took up a firm attitude; cuirfir-se Tadhg, you will outlive (lit. bury) T.; c. péire bróg dá ndéanamh dam féin, I get a pair of boots made for myself: c. biadh dá thabhairt dhó, I have him served with food; chireas mo bhláth, I have wasted my substance; is olc a chireas mo chlann inghean (mo chuid airgid), I have ill-disposed of my daughters (my money); chuiris é! well placed (or put), often iron.; with nouns: c fuil, allus, fearthainn, sneachta, sioc, cloichshneachta, cfudh, faobhar, lorg, boladh, geall, cath, a n-ár, I bleed, perspire, rain, snow, freeze, hail, shoe a horse, sharpen, track, scent, wager, do battle, slaughter them; c. bun, I inquire, find out (Con.) with adverbs: c. a-bhaile, amach, suas, síos, isteach, I send or drive home (as an argument), eject or put forth, set up or build, pull down (al. anuas acc. to context) or set down (in writing or argument) or lay down (as law) I stave or push in or insert; c. suas baidhte, I bait a line; c. suas le, I tolerate; c. suas ar, I prevent; c. duine amach ar chluiche, I defeat a person at a game (Con.); with prepositions: c. le, I send by, charge or impute to, unite, add to, exaggerate, prop up, co-operate with, contend with, place against, abandon to, send to (a trade or profession); c. le dochtúireacht é, I send him to become a doctor; c. taca le, I place a prop against; c. cúl le, I contradict, turn my back on; ní ’gá chur leis é, not charging him with it; with ar: c. ar, I impose as an injunction on, ascribe to, accost, challenge, play on, overbear, interrupt, annoy (gnly., c. isteach ar); c. ort! I challenge you! leigim leat! done! cuireann mo chroidhe orm, my heart gives me trouble; with ar and noun: c. ar bun, siubhal, snámh, cíos, cáirde, ath-lá, crith, neamh-nídh, aghaidh, &c., &c., I establish, set going, launch, let (a house), postpone, id., set atremble, abolish, forward, etc., etc.: with noun and ar: c. (an) dligheadh, lorg, fios, comaoin, eagla, misneach, éagcóir, leigheas, cathughadh, moill, geara, &c., &c., ar, I proceed against, send in search of send for, benefit or oblige, fighten, encourage, wrong, cure or treat, challenge or tempt, delay, enjoin upon, etc. etc.; chuir sé nósa agus reachta agus athchóirighthe ar na h-easbhadhaibh, he drew up customs, laws, and reformations to meet these needs; with de, noun and ar: c. d’fhiachaibh, d’ualach, d’oibliogáid, de chúram, de bhreith, de choingheall, &rl., ar, I order, impose as a duty, as an obligation, as a charge, as a judgment or forfeit, condtion on, etc.; with iar (ar), c. ar gchúl, I put back, postpone, neutralise, reduce (as an abscess); withthar, c. tharm, I pass from, ignore, put round me, put over me (of time); cuir do lámh tharm, embrace me; with ó, c. uaim, I put away, give up; chuir sé litir uaidh, he sent a letter; bhi sé ag cur uaidh, he was in a state of terror, relaxing, exuding; c. ó oidhreacht, I disinherit; c. ó chóta, I unfrock; c. ó chion, I seriously injure; c. ó rath, id.; c. ó theist, I put out of court, discredit (F. F.); with ag: c. agam, I emit, utter; chuireadh sé agam, he used to attack me (Con.); chuir sé an madradh agam, he set the dog at me; chuir sé an gadhar liom, id.; with noun: c. liúgh, fead, geoin, scread, &rl, agam, I emit a shout, whistle, yell, scream, etc.; c. as ionad, áit, as a thalamh é, ag a riocht é, I dislocate, displace, evict him, distort it; ná bí ag cur ag dam, do not be upsetting me; cad tá ag cur ag dó? what ails him? with i and noun: c. i n-iúl (umhail), i dtuiscint (dtuigsint) do, I inform; c. i gcéill do, id., al. I pretend to; c. i gcár, I take as an instance; c. igcóir, i bhfearas, i ngléas, i n-oireamhaint, i bhfuirm &rl., I make ready, gear up, etc.; c. i leith, i dtairce, i n-iongantas, i bhfeidhm, i gcontabhairt, i n-éag, i ngníomh, I impute to, store up, wonder at, use or execute (as a decree, etc.), doubt or endanger, extinguish, relinquish (as a habit) practise, carry out; c. i suim, I take notice of; c. i neamh-shuim, I slight, take no notice of; c. i ndímbrígh, id.; c. grian i slánadh fá, I call the sun to witness regarding; c. i bhfaoistin, I tell in confession, confess; c. i gceann, I add to; with noun and i: c. spéis (suim) dúil, cearbh, sonnradh, contabhairt, i, &rl., I take interest in, desire, covet, notice, doubt, etc.; with tré, I mix: c. ola tríd, I mix oil with it; c. tré chéile iad, I confuse or mix them; with , I incite; c. fúm, I settle down, squat; with and noun, I bind, restrain, etc.; c. fá gheasaibh iad, I bind them (with taboos); c. fá smacht iad, I reduce them to discipline; c. duine fá choimirce, I place one nder the protection of; c. fá deara dhó, I compel or order him; c. fá bhreitheamhnas aithrighe, I enjoin as a penance upon; with noun and , I apply (as binding, grease, ointment, motion) to:; with de: c. díom, I disrobe, doff, shed, cease using, hearing, etc., pressed, pass my days; c. an cnoc aníos díom, I go up the hill; cionnas taoi ag cur díot? how are you geting on? cuir díot! give over! be off! bí ag cur díot! be off! bhí sé ag cur alluis um, he was sweating profusely; with um: c umam, I don; cuir umat! dress! c. suas de, I give up or cease; with roimh: c. sómhamI propose for myself, decide, underake, put in front of myself; with chum, I set about: ch. chum bóthair, I set off; c. chum siubhail, I send off or dimsiss; c. chum cíosa, I set at a rent; c. chugham, I appropriate, put in my breast, pocket, etc.; c. siopa chugham, I open a shop; c. buidheach, I please, make thankful (poet.).

—Foclóir Gaedhilge agus Béarla, 1927, by Patrick Dinneen

Also see entry at: Foclóir Gaeilge-Béarla, 1977, by Niall Ó Dónaill, as well as: cuir amach, cuir aníos, cuir anuas, cuir ar, cuir as, cuir chuig, cuir de, cuir do, cuir faoi, cuir i, cuir isteach cuir le, cuir ó, cuir roimh, cuir siar, cuir síos, cuir suas, cuir thar, cuir thart, cuir trí, and cuir um.

Tuesday, August 04, 2015

Mrs. Sheehy Skeffington’s Statement: Her Husband’s Last Hours

The following statement was published by Mrs. Sheehy Skeffington respecting the arrest and shooting of her husband.

I last saw my husband on Tuesday evening, April 25, between 5.15 and 5.30 at Westmoreland Chambers. He had called a meeting there to stop looting (see enclosed poster), and was waiting to see if any people would attend same. On that and the previous day he had been active personally, with help from bystanders, at the same work, and had succeeded in stopping some looting by personal efforts and appeals. All this, there is independent evidence to testify. On Monday afternoon outside Dublin Castle an officer was reported bleeding to death in the street, and, the crowd being afraid, owing to the firing, to go to his assistance, my husband himself went, at imminent danger to his life, to drag away the wounded man to a place of safety, to find, however, that by that time the body had been rescued by some soldiers, there being left merely a pool of blood. This incident can also be corroborated.

He stated to me that if none turned up to help on Tuesday at the meeting to prevent looting that he would come home as usual to his house at 11 Grosvenor place. He was afterwards seen by several friends (whose testimony I possess) going home about 6.30. In the neighbourhood of Portobello Bridge he was arrested, unarmed and unresisting. He never carried or possessed any arm of any description, being, as is well known, a pacifist and opposed to the use of physical force.

He was conducted in military custody to Portobello Barracks, wnere he was shot without trial on that night or early on the following morning. No priest was summoned to attend him, no notification was, or has since been, given to me (his wife) or to his family of his death, and no message written before his death has been allowed to reach me.

Repeated inquiries at the barracks and elsewhere have been met with refusal to answer, and when my sisters, Mrs. Kettle and Mrs. Culhane, called at Portobello Barracks on Thursday, April 27, to inquire they were put under temporary arrest.

HOUSE SURROUNDED.

On Friday night, April 28, a large military force surrounded my husband’s house at 11 Grosvenor place, fired without warning on the windows in front, which they burst through without waiting for the door to be opened. They put myself, my son, aged seven, to whom they shouted “Hands up!” and my maid (the sole occupants) under arrest, and remained in the house for over three hours. They found no ammunition of any kind, but burst locks, etc., and took away with them a large number of documents, newspapers, letters, and books, as well as various persona! property, such as linen, tablecloths, trunks, photograph of Mr. Keir Hardie and M. Davitt, a picture of the Kilmainham prisoners of 1882, a green flag, etc. Most of the books taken were German and Irish books (grammars, school texts, etc.) relating to my work as teacher of modern languages and to my husband’s journalistic work. One officer remarked that this was not a “very exciting search.”

On Monday, May 1, during my absence, the soldiers again entered the house and searched it, and took prisoner Margaret Farrelly (the only then occupant), a temporary maid whom I had engaged, my former maid having teen too terrified to stay. She was detained in custody until the following Saturday (May 6) in the Rathmines Police Station, and kept there in custody without the knowledge of her friends, without any charge being made against her. Finally, the authorities in Dublin Castle allowed her to be released, but without apology or compensation.

I demand the fullest inquiry into all the above circumstances, and desire, as my husband’s next-of-kin, to be legally represented at any inquiry that may take place.

(Signed) Hanna Sheehy Skeffington.
May 9. 1915.

PS.—Since the above was written my husband’s body was dug up from Portobello Barracks and transferred to Glasnevin Cemetery, again without my knowledge.

The following are details of his last hours that have reached me through various private sources:

He refused to be blindfolded, and met death with a smile on his lips, saying before he died that the authorities would find out after his death what a mistake they made. He put his hand to his eyes, and the bullet passed through his hand to his brain.

THE POSTER.

The poster referred to above and distributed in the city on Tuesday, April 25, when the police were cleared off the streets, is as follows:—

“When there are no regular police in the streets it becomes the duty of the citizens to police the streets themselves to prevent such spasmodic looting as has taken place.

“Civilians (both men and women) who are willing to co-operate to this end are asked to attend at Westmoreland Chambers (over Eden Bros.) at five o’clock on this (Tuesday) afternoon.

“Francis Sheehy Skeffington.”

Sinn Féin Rebellion Handbook, 1917, Weekly Irish Times
(The report of the Royal Commission of Inquiry, Four Courts, Dublin, Wednesday, 23rd August, to Thursday, 31st August, 1916, into the circumstances connected with the shooting of Francis Sheehy Skeffington, Thomas Dickson, and Patrick J. Maclntyre, on 25th April, 1916, at Portobello Barracks, is reproduced in pages 206-224 of the Handbook.)