One hundred years ago, Easter Monday 1916 in case maths is not your strong point, Ireland changed forever. A group of approximately 1,200 Irishmen and women, led by seven leaders, took over various buildings in Dublin city. Outside the GPO they read the Irish Proclamation, flew the tri colour (the flag we still use today) and declared an Irish Republic. So began the Easter Rising as we know it. It led to intense fighting, before the British bombed the city and eventually forced the rebels to surrender. The Rising lasted all of six days. By the time it ended there were 12,000 British soldiers in Dublin. Over 500 dead, most of them civilians killed in the bombings. The leaders were executed over a period of nine days, along with others involved but the tide had turned. Republicanism was on the rise and within three years the first Dáil (Irish government) sat in Ireland, not London.
As a direct result of 1916 I live in an independent country, the Republic of Ireland. Also as a direct result of 1916 the North of Ireland was divided and it was decided that six counties would continue to be ruled by Britain.
1916 was always a part of Irish history that fascinated me. Growing up I had relatives living in the six counties and traveling to visit my grandparents I crossed the border a number of times a year. Despite my parents lack of obvious bias, I admit I had strong republican tendencies, especially in my teens. These feelings have tempered over the years. Since having children of my own, and a semblance of peace in the North, I’ve tried to keep them very much under wraps.
I have been very successful in achieving that, perhaps a little too successful!
As a result my children do not really seem to appreciate our history. They have no clue, no interest and no respect for those men 
and women who effectively set those of us in the 26 counties free. As long as they have Wifi their world is complete. It saddens me hugely. Growing up I knew every rebel song and enjoyed blasting them out on occasions. Some of those songs were from a more recent time, but most were over a hundred years old. They were part of our heritage, a reaction to what had gone on at the time. They were poignant and bias, but singing them gave me a sense of my Irishness and the years of occupation. Ultimately they helped me remember, to never forget.
For my children there is peace. They have no memory of anything else. They will grow up with no animosity towards our neighbours England. I know in my head that is the way it should be, but I can’t help but wish they cared more.
I do have one ace up my sleeve though. I do tend to sing around the house an awful lot (awful is the correct word). Over the years I have made it my mission in life to sing as many rebel songs daily as I can. I am hoping that subconsciously they have assimilated the words and some day will surprise themselves by breaking into song. Perhaps, some day in the future, their children will say, ‘tell us about that song’ and maybe the next generation will be given the chance to appreciate the sacrifice others made so they could be free.
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Padraig Pearse was one of the leaders. He was not a soldier, but a teacher and poet. At his court martial this is part of what he said,
‘I assume that I am speaking to Englishmen who value their freedom, and who profess to be fighting for the freedom of Belgium and Serbia. Believe that we too love freedom and desire it. To us it is more than anything else in the world. If you strike us down now, we shall rise again, and renew the fight. You cannot conquer Ireland; you cannot extinguish the Irish passion for freedom. If our deed has not been sufficient to win freedom, then our children will win it by a better deed.”
On giving the order to condemn him to death, British officer Charles Blackadder said, ‘I have just done one of the hardest tasks I have ever had to do. I have had to condemn to death one of the finest characters I have ever come across. There must be something very wrong in the state of things that makes a man like that a rebel. I don’t wonder that his pupils adored him’.
photo credit: Tricolour – the Irish flag via photopin (license)
My thoughts on a page. 
This was a wonderful read.
Thank you. It’s a busy and special weekend for the Irish.
Yes, I look forward to the parade tomorrow. Are you in Dublin?
No Cork I’m afraid. I’d say it will be amazing.
Thanks also for the reblog.
Reblogged this on writingsofasinglegirl and commented:
This is a lovely read about the 1916 celebrations. I look forward to the parade tomorrow.
i love this piece and i love your rebel-song singing )
You’re lucky you don’t actually hear them. 🙂
Freedom comes with a price but the reward is worth the sacrifice.
It was a huge price, by so many, and this was only the beginning, it led to a Civil war and then the partitioning of the North of Ireland and all those who died in that struggle. We have so much to be grateful for.
Nicely done..Thank you for this….Dave.
Thanks Dave. Glad you enjoyed it.
Sad to read that your children don’t seem to appreciate just how important the Easter Rising was. Perhaps in time they will come to see it as a defining moment in Irish history. Enjoy your celebration and keep on singing!
I hope they do, some day. We all change so much as we grow up, and in time when they have their own children then they may understand.
Reblogged this on Gave the sawdust a shake look what fell out..
Thank you for the reblog C.J.
Happy Easter Tric.
And to you C.J. Enjoy
I’ve read the books, sung the songs, and stood at the door of Kilmainham Gaol on the 90th anniversary of the Rising. I can never get enough of the learning of the men and women.
Yes it’s a fascinating period in history. I thought about you yesterday and today. You’d have really enjoyed the hype.
Yes, I would have. Did I ever tell you this story? The only reason I wanted to stop in Dublin was to go to Kilmainham Gaol. We got there easily enough because it was Easter and NO one was out and about. We parked, saw some Garda, and he told us to go on up to the Gaol. We did. Stood right THERE. Before we know it, vehicles pull up, the Prime Minister (Enda Kenny???) got out and walked RIGHT next to us. Husband walked across the street to take my picture and a female Garda told us to leave. Kind of pissed me off (pardon the cuss there). But we could NOT go in because the PM was there. Those women were not my favorite people that day!!! The ONLY day the place was closed to the public. Broke my heart.
Lovely post. Didn’t know all of this…and I’m glad your blog is where I read it. Also, I agree about how the future generations will never know of the pain our countrymen went through for freedom. It was a huge step in evolution of the world when countries fought to be their own entity and not serve people. India has a huge long documentation of its freedom movement and my grandfather was with the army and I grew up listening to his recollections of how sad the times were. He was one of the few who survived and he mourned for his lost friends till his last breath. I get goosebumps and tears when I hear the National Anthem or other songs that were composed during the struggle but generations after mine will never appreciate ‘freedom’ the same way as we do! Thank you for the lovely post Tric…
The Indian history is a fascinating one too. I’ve very little knowledge or understanding of it, bar the wonderful movie ‘Ghandi’.
You were lucky to have had your grandfather for first hand accounts. Have you written any of them down? Maybe then in years to come the next generation might appreciate them?
That’s a lovely idea Tric! I should put it down on paper so it doesn’t vanish from the face of the earth with me! Have a nice week 🙂