In the 1840’s, Ireland was struck by a terrible blight, causing the potato crop to fail. The resultant famine drove a multitude to leave their homelands to seek pastures new, thus continuing the centuries old tradition of Celtic migration. Some thirty years later, Ireland was showing signs of recovery. This was dependent upon continued migration to keep the population within ‘manageable’ size. This was ensured by the passing of legislation such as the ‘Land Law’, which left many tenants evicted from their homes. About this time the Pickett, Pope, Moriarty and Pearce families (the latter ones being my maternal ancestors) began their exodus from the counties of Kerry, Waterford and Tipperary, their home for hundreds of years and set sail for a new life elsewhere. Most of the Picketts made their way to the young and vibrant country of America. Great-grandfather Pickett was supposed to join them, but upon arriving in England decided to take a look at what London would have to offer. He liked what he saw and never moved on. Since then, to the best of my knowledge, no member of the Pickett family had ever returned to the Emerald Isle. Some of the Popes, Pearces and Moriartys had returned to visit, some making their homes there once again, but for some reason the Picketts had never felt the need to see the old country again. So 130 years of absence was ended when I made the short trip over the Irish Sea to Dublin. Dublin, founded by the Vikings around a thousand years ago, consists of far more than the regular crowd over for the rugby international ever see, i.e. the airport, hotel, Landsdowne Road stadium and the floor of the car park where they pass out drunkenly soon afterwards. There are still remnants of structures built by the Norman invaders of the 12th century, but Dublin’s architecture originates mainly from the 18th and 19th Centuries, giving the City a unique Anglo-Irish flavour. In terms of size it is something of a microcosm, with around one million people housed in an area which from the business districts to the suburbs can be covered in around fifteen minutes brisk walk. 
As part of the concerted effort by the Irish government, the Irish language has undergone a revival in recent years, with a fair proportion of the population now bi-lingual. As part of this programme of saving the national tongue, road signs are shown in both English and Irish, which take a little getting used to. No visit to the Dublin would be complete without seeing the Book of Kells. Around 1,200 years old, the Book is a richly illuminated manuscript of the four gospels of the New Testament, it is housed at Trinity College library along with some one and a half million other volumes. Just around the corner from Trinity College is the Museum of Ireland, where I was proud to discover that Moriarty, one of the ancestral names on my mother’s side, is one of the oldest names of Ireland and has it’s own family crest. While the history, art and cultural side of Dublin are vastly important and should not be overlooked, the social heart of the city is its pubs. Friendly, warm with perfectly kept stout (beer is available for the heathen), the pub is just the place if you are heading out for a quick drink before heading elsewhere, settling in for the evening or wish to hear a variety of music. 
Equally notable is the friendliness of the people. It never seems to be a hassle for anyone to stop and help. When I was out taking photographs (at Seven o’clock one Sunday morning!), there were no end of suggestions from passers-by as to where I could find interesting things to snap, such as the statue of Molly Malone, made famous by the song of the same name. The next objective is to visit Kerry, Tipperary and Waterford to find the ancestral homes of my family, but this trip left me with a strong feeling for my roots and the urge to return, hopefully before another 130 years go by! Back to Bob's index... |
© 1998 Bob Pickett