Harold’s Cross-Ancient and Modern

Harold’s Cross-Ancient and Modern

9 Oct 1927

At a single bound one horse village of Harold’s Cross the so-called has sprung into fame and the limelight. The dog controversy has centred the attention of John Citizen on the historic neighbourhood. And soon it would seem, the People’s Park—still called “The Green” by the “rude forefathers” and their children will separate thousands of 100 per cent, live racing enthusiasts from thousands of other good folk who sleep peacefully beneath the elms and yew trees in the nearby cemetery. Be that as it may, however, Harold’s Cross has a past – and a good one.

Situated right athwart the’ Pass from Dublin Castle to the Marches beyond the Pale, the villagers of old glimpsed day-by-day colourful pagentry mixed with stark realitv.

To Meet the Warlike 0 Byrnes.

There hardby the Green in days gone by fierce Norman warriors clattered with poised lance or dangling sword hastening mayhap to repel some fresh incursion or attack from their inveterate and wily foes the O’Byrnes and O’Tooles; returning later with grim blood-stained head on lance, or corpse on bier, as evidence of success or failure in the wild foray.

There too, many an English Knight at Arms or humble “soldier” got his first—and very often his last glimpse of tho rich wide-spreading Vale of Dublin, which stretched in pleasant prospect to the foot of the Blue Hills beyond.

Here also, in the year of Our Lord 1253, many a hefty “Harlonian” toiled at the making of tho City Watercourse, which meandering through the village under the name of the Poddle, formerly supplied the citizens with water.

The Trooper’s Loss.

A few years ago an extremely rare and unique Scottish halfcrown, issued in the year 1605, was found in the vicinity, it’s existence would seem to prove that at least one of King James the First’s soldiers suffered a serious personal loss.

Still later and prior to the troubled times of ’96 two patriot Irishmen —one of deathless fame— made Mount Jerome House (tho present residence of Sir Simon Maddock) their rendezvous, and there planned and discussed together the liberation of Ireland. John Keogh of the United Irishmen was one; peerless, hapless Wolfe Tone the other.

Another few years pass the gentle though Warlike Robert Emmett might e descried pacing slowly through the village towards Rathfarnham, deeply thoughtful the while of his project for Ireland’s – freedom, and which ended alas in his capture at Harold’s Cross by the minions of the notorious Major Sirr and his subsequent execution in Thomas Street.

Other incidents we glean from history’s pages. There on the Green in former clays stood the grim gallows from which many a malefactor danced a double-jig in a suspended staff.’ Of more pleasant memory is the ribboneiecked Maypole round which in the “Merry Month” the lads and lasses of the village tripped gaily to tho tune of some olden folk song.

Scarce “twenty paces from the main entrance to the contentious do” racing track farmers from the wilds of Glassamueky Brakes, Glenasmole, and Tallaght made merry with the locals in the tavern known as the “Royal Oak”, The Cat and Bagpipes” and “The Cherry Tree” taverns were also renowned for their “hospitality.” ‘No longer children will fear and dread rush past the dark by-way known as Hell’s Lane. The “Buggy Barracks” now renovated and modernised, still gives the local wit occasion for quip or jest.

But the days of the locally raised infantry detachment—the fearsome, awe inspiring Uppercross Fusiliers are gone for ever. Yet amid tho bustle of-the busy world a certain quaintness, aloofness, or quietiness — call it what you will —pervades the district, notwithstanding the march of time with its noisy amenities and improvements.

As I write the w-hole question is more or less in the air. Even so, and whatever the result of the controversy may be, it is well to remember that ” down through the grey centuries many an erstwhile, honest, upright, blue-eyed, tin-whiskered son of Harold’s Cross took the bit (or sup) between his teeth and went—to the Dogs!

Tully say_=—”Only those who have been in exile can realise the passionate longing for home news that trouble’s every traeller who, like myself, has been for a long time awav from the Old Country. The great event or the week for me “is the “Bilati Dak” (English mail), and the fortunate recipient of a home newspaper is envied by all the ranks.

“My battalion (the 1st, Battalion of the Rifle Brigade) is stationed at Londi-Kotal. one of the important_strategic points in the main defensive system by which India is protected from invasion and also from the raids and depreciations of tho warlike’ tribes on tho North-West Frontier. *

Though I am on foreign service, the heart is always turned to Ireland. I can honestly- s«y the only paperI am interested in is the Irish Weekly Independent.

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