Stereotypes are, we all know, dangerous things that should be avoided. And yet ... I found myself sitting in the chapel of Kilmainham Jail, brought to tears as our guide told us about the night-before-execution wedding of Grace Gifford and Joseph Plunkett, and thinking "damn, these people are just born storytellers."
The jail lies on the western edge of the city, across the Liffey from the vast sprawl of Phoenix Park. Though its thick grey walls and oppressive architecture seem grim by modern standards, the buildings you see today were models of Victorian reform. It’s painful to look into tiny cells, and feel the chill even on a sunny day, and realise this was an improvement on the corrupt, overcrowded past. For people starving to death in famine times, incarceration gave them at least one meal a day and transportation to Australia was at least some chance at a future.
The tales that most people want to hear, however, and the ones that led to the building’s restoration, are those associated with Ireland’s independence. There were five notable rebellions between the late 18th and the early 20th century, and leaders from all were incarcerated here. Many were executed.
There’s a museum full of memorabilia, letters, videos and information boards you can look at before or after your tour, but your journey through the jail itself … which you can only take in the company of a guide … is what brings the history to life. Guides bring you along through stories of individuals, whether unnamed like the five-year-old boy who came in alone and disappeared from records, to the list of famous names that now grace Dublin’s pubs and street signs.
The heroes of the Easter Rising and the yard in which they met their deaths will be the focal point for most visitors, but I found myself captivated by the women. Grace, mentioned above, was a talented artist forging an independent living as a cartoonist long before women were accepted in the field. She was just 27 when her fiancée was condemned; she bought the ring and talked her way into the jail for
Poor Grace returned as a prisoner when she ended up on the wrong side in the civil war, and you can see a mural of the Madonna and child she painted in her cell.
Constance Markievicz is another bold character of her generation, now perhaps best known as the answer to a particularly tricky pub quiz question. The first woman elected to the British parliament, Markievicz, is different from the first to actually take her seat, Nancy Astor. Constance started life as a daughter of the wealthy Anglo-Irish Gore-Booth family, but her politics turned radical and she married a Polish-Ukrainian Count who could fund her activities. She fought alongside the men in the Easter Rebellion and was considered so dangerous she was the only woman put in solidary confinement afterwards. Her sex probably helped her avoid execution; she was given life imprisonment instead, but released in an amnesty in 1917. She went on to be a leading figure in early Irish government.
Grace and Constance are just two of the scores of characters the tour guide brings to life. Idealistic rebels, opportunistic chancers, hardened criminals and the starving stealing to survive all step on stage. The human-driven storytelling elevates something that could be a bewildering foray into dates and historical detail; Irish rebellions were complex, the Anglo-Irish relationship nuanced and the Civil War that followed independence downright byzantine. A different approach could leave your head spinning with dates and details and, and quite possibly, bored.
As a British passport holder I was also rather relieved to find balance in the storytelling. It's easy to spin a cartoonish tale of English baddies and the saintly Irish oppressed, but the narrative is more nuanced here, acknowledging, for example, that crackdowns from London were harder when they were engaged in wars and couldn't risk internal strife, and that the brutal Black and Tans were often traumatized WWI veterans dealing with then-unknown PTSD. The guides aren't dolling out forgiveness, but they are providing context and acknowledging a complicated world.
Kilmainham has another claim to fame as a film set, something that won't surprise you the moment you step into the late-Victorian main hall. The horseshoe-shaped space is known as a panopticon, a place where the guards can see everyone but the inmates are never sure if they're being observed by the guards. Despite its dark purpose, it's actually quite a beautiful building and you're likely to recognise it from its many film appearances. Paddington 2, The Italian Job and the music video for U2's Celebration are amongst the many productions that have contributed to the building's restoration funds.
Visiting a jail might seem like an odd thing to do on holiday but this one packs a triple punch: a fascinating view into Irish history, interesting and starkly beautiful architecture, and a big hit of pop culture by film set. Most of all, however, it's a great place to listen to the Irish spin some fabulous tales about their predecessors.
*The Dublin Writers Museum doesn't use an apostrophe. Honest. I checked. Sadly, the Museum has not re-opened since lockdown. I went in the late ‘90s and enjoyed it, but reports say that the old-style displays and niche subject matter did not appeal to a modern museum audience. There’s another thing to support when I win the lottery.
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