2 TribuneReview
24/08/08
DAVID KENNY’S ERINDIPITY
Greatest Dubliner To Have
A Bridge Named After Him
DUBLIN. My Dublin. The mention of
her name fills the mind’s nose with
the hoppy perfume of brewing
Guinness as it sashays along her
quays. And the eggy whang of the
Liffey as the barometer raises its
glass to smelly summertime.
Cockles, mussels, smoky pubs,
tripe, coddle, boxty, the Rare Ould
Times – “anyone for de last of de
Cheeky Charlies, MISSUS?!!!”.
Too late, they’re all gone.
Sadly, this was brought home to us
last week with the news of two
calamities: the death of the great
Ronnie Drew and the possibility that
O’Connell Bridge is falling down.
Ronnie was one of the last
survivors of Old Dubbellin, where
poets and poseurs slurped treacly
pints in Baggot Street’s pubs.
To mark his passing, we offer a
miscellany celebrating some of
Dublin’s forgotten ‘characters’,
culminating in a visit to a lesser-
known bridge.
King Sitric
Viking king, Sitric, was the first
recorded Dublin character. He made
this official by minting the first coins
in Ireland in 997AD, featuring his
name and the word ‘Dyflin’ (Dublin).
Remember how Brian Boru was
killed by Sitric’s men as they fled
Ireland at the Battle of Clontarf?
Here’s a bit of myth-straightening:
the defeated Danes didn’t flee. Like a
true Dub, Sitric stood his ground and
remained King of Dublin until 1036
when he retired to a monastery.
Munsterman Boru, by the way, was
both Sitric’s stepdad and his father-
in-law (don’t ask). While he is
commemorated by a brand of vodka,
Sitric has a fish restaurant named
after him in Howth – where Dubliner
Barney McKenna lives.
‘Howth’, by the by, is the Viking
word for ‘head’, so “how’s it going,
Howth? Knowwharrimean?”
While Sitric was a Dublin king, the
following was a king from Dublin . . .
Lambert Simnel – worst Dublin
character for invading England
You know how Dublin characters are
always invading your space in the
pub? Lambert Simnel (c 1475 -
1525) went a step further – he
invaded another country’s space.
Lambert was crowned King of
England in Dublin in May 1487,
during that country’s ‘War of
the Roses’ and then rounded up
an army of Dubs to invade
Britain. That’s right: an army of
Dubs once invaded England –
and not just for Cheltenham.
Lambert’s 8,000-strong force
started hostilities on 4 June, 1487,
probably after a few scoops and
roaring “c’mere ’til we burst youse”.
After initial victories, they were
massacred at Stoke Fields on 16 June:
coincidentally, Bloomsday, only with
less pretence and a lot more innards.
King Henry later “pardoned”
Lambert and gave him a job in his
kitchen. He is now remembered as
either the Worst Dublin King of
England or the Most Overqualified
Pot-walloper Ever
Matt Talbot
Talbot (1856 to 1925) was an alcoholic
Dub who was a regular character in
the city’s pubs until he foreswore the
booze in 1884 and became a devout
Catholic. When he died, he was
discovered to be wearing heavy
chains around his body as penance.
He remains the only Dublin
character ever to wander the city
permanently chained, but not locked.
Russell Crowe
The hatred between Paddy
Kavanagh and Brendan
Behan is legendary. Behan
was lucky that actor Russell
Crowe wasn’t hanging
around Dublin in the
’60s. In 2000 Crowe
revealed himself to
be a Kavanagh
fanatic when he
rushed to his
defence at the
Bafta awards.
During a lengthy
speech, Russ
quoted from
the poet’s
‘Sanctity’, only
to find out
Hairy bowsies: later it had been edited out. He went
fellow Dubs, baloobas and reportedly attacked the
Ronnie Drew and producer responsible, kicking chairs,
John Lennon. cursing and declaring he would
Below, Russell “never work in Hollywood”.
Crowe doing his For this display, we are making him
best ‘Brendan an honorary Dublin character.
Behan’ Neither Crowe nor Behan have
statues (or bridges) named after
them, while Kavanagh has two: on the
Grand Canal and – seriously – at Walt
Disney World.
From a hard-to-handle Crowe we
move to another Bird . . .
The Bird Flanagan
Bird was an infamous practical joker
in the early 20th century. In 1907 he
rode a pony into the foyer of the
Gresham Hotel and asked the head
waiter for a drink.
When he was told it was after
hours, he replied: “It's not for me, it’s
for the horse!” He then jumped his
mount over the bar and leaped back
again, whooping with mirth. The jolly
prankster (gobshite).
This column of The horse still didn’t get a drink.
trivia revels in its
utter, utter Ubi Dwyer
uselessness. Any
unimportant ideas Ubi (Bill) Dwyer was a Dublin
or queries are character who campaigned for the
always welcome legalising of cannabis in the ’70s and
’80s. An anarchic hippy who
dkenny@tribune.ie organised England’s Windsor ‘Free’
www.davekenny.com anti-establishment festivals of the
early ’70s, he was also, oddly, a civil
servant in HM Government’s
Hello to fellow stationary department at the time.
Dub, Agnes Danaher. For a man who worked in
Thanks for the stationary, he was anything but, and
kind words about our when he moved back here in 1975 he
witterings spent most of his time cycling around
on his bike – ‘Senator Sunflower’ –
with a joint in his mitt, planning some
new way to spread the love.
Sunday Tribune
Affable Ubi – who unsuccessfully
ran for local election in 1980 – worked
in the National Rehabilitation
Hospital and, unfortunately, became
a patient there after a near-fatal
accident in the ’90s. He passed away
at the age of 71 in October, 2001.
Ubi was friends with the greatest
rocker ever to have proclaimed his
pride at being a Dubliner . . .
John Lennon
The chief Beatle was intensely aware
of his Irish roots. Not many Dubs
know this but his grandfather, James
Lennon was a wandering minstrel
from Dublin. He emigrated to
Liverpool and married Irishwoman
‘Polly’ Maguire. Their son, Alfred,
carried on the minstrel tradition as
did his son, Beatle John.
Lennon’s Irishness erupted after
Bloody Sunday and he recorded two
fiercely pro-Irish, anti-British songs,
‘The Luck of the Irish’ and ‘Sunday
Bloody Sunday’ in 1972.
Apart from his granddad, Lennon’s
other, previously-mentioned, Dublin
connection was Ubi. The singer
bought an island in Clew Bay, Co
Mayo in 1967 and asked Ubi to help
him turn it into a hippy commune.
True to stoned, hippy form, it never
happened. Maybe someday the locals
will build a bridge across to the island
and name it after Ubi and Lennon.
Speaking of bridges . . .
Greatest Dubliner To Have A
Bridge Named After Him
Here’s a question for any know-all
Dubs reading this: which city river
boasts a bridge dedicated to the
Greatest Dubliner Ever?
The answer is: the Tolka. And who
is the great personage? You’re almost
there if you answered Jonathan Swift.
He was certainly a great Dubliner, but
not The Greatest.
That honour goes to Dubliner Luke
Kelly (below), who is commemorated
at Ballybough, although most Dubs
are unaware of
this.
Here’s a
suggestion: as
O’Connell Bridge
may be in danger
of falling down,
why not hasten
its demise? We
could then rebuild it and rename it.
After all, the city’s most famous
bridge isn’t even named after a Dub –
Daniel O’Connell was from Kerry.
We could call it Ronnie Drew
Bridge. We could even make it
retractable and call it the Ronnie
Draw-Bridge.
Either way, we’d like to think that
Luke and Ronnie are sorting out, over
a few heavenly pints, which of them
was really the greatest Dubliner.
As James Brown said, “take it to
the bridge”, boys.