The Insurrection in Dublin

The Insurrection in Dublin, by James Stephens

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Title: The Insurrection in Dublin
Author: James Stephens
Release Date: July 9, 2004 [EBook #12871]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Transcriber's note: The spelling inconsistencies of the original are retained in this etext.]
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
POEMS
INSURRECTIONS (Maunsel)
THE HILL OF VISION "
GREEN BRANCHES "
SONGS FROM THE CLAY (Macmillan)
THE ADVENTURES OF SEUMAS BEG "
* * * * *
PROSE
THE CHARWOMANS DAUGHTER (Macmillan)
THE CROCK OF GOLD "
HERE ARE LADIES "
THE DEMI-GODS "
* * * * *

THE INSURRECTION IN DUBLIN
BY JAMES STEPHENS
MAUNSEL & COMPANY, LTD. DUBLIN AND LONDON 1916

CONTENTS
FOREWORD
CHAP.
I. MONDAY
II. TUESDAY
III. WEDNESDAY
IV. THURSDAY
V. FRIDAY
VI. SATURDAY
VII. SUNDAY
VIII. THE INSURRECTION IS OVER
IX. THE VOLUNTEERS
X. SOME OF THE LEADERS
XI. LABOUR AND THE INSURRECTION
XII. THE IRISH QUESTIONS

FOREWORD
The day before the rising was Easter Sunday, and they were crying joyfully in the Churches "Christ has risen." On the following day they were saying in the streets "Ireland has risen." The luck of the moment was with her. The auguries were good, and, notwithstanding all that has succeeded, I do not believe she must take to the earth again, nor be ever again buried. The pages hereafter were written day by day during the Insurrection that followed Holy Week, and, as a hasty impression of a most singular time, the author allows them to stand without any emendation.
The few chapters which make up this book are not a history of the rising. I knew nothing about the rising. I do not know anything about it now, and it may be years before exact information on the subject is available. What I have written is no more than a statement of what passed in one quarter of our city, and a gathering together of the rumour and tension which for nearly two weeks had to serve the Dublin people in lieu of news. It had to serve many Dublin people in place of bread.
To-day, the 8th of May, the book is finished, and, so far as Ireland is immediately concerned, the insurrection is over. Action now lies with England, and on that action depends whether the Irish Insurrection is over or only suppressed.
In their dealings with this country, English Statesmen have seldom shown political imagination; sometimes they have been just, sometimes, and often, unjust. After a certain point I dislike and despise justice. It is an attribute of God, and is adequately managed by Him alone; but between man and man no other ethics save that of kindness can give results. I have not any hope that this ethic will replace that, and I merely mention it in order that the good people who read these words may enjoy the laugh which their digestion needs.
I have faith in man, I have very little faith in States man. But I believe that the world moves, and I believe that the weight of the rolling planet is going to bring freedom to Ireland. Indeed, I name this date as the first day of Irish freedom, and the knowledge forbids me mourn too deeply my friends who are dead.
It may not be worthy of mention, but the truth is, that Ireland is not cowed. She is excited a little. She is gay a little. She was not with the revolution, but in a few months she will be, and her heart which was withering will be warmed by the knowledge that men have thought her worth dying for. She will prepare to make herself worthy of devotion, and that devotion will never fail her. So little does it take to raise our hearts.
Does it avail anything to describe these things to English readers? They have never moved the English mind to anything except impatience, but to-day and at this desperate conjunction they may be less futile than heretofore. England also has grown patriotic, even by necessity. It is necessity alone makes patriots, for in times of peace a patriot is a quack when he is not a shark. Idealism pays in times of peace, it dies in time of war. Our idealists are dead and yours are dying hourly.
The English mind may to-day be enabled to understand what is wrong with us, and why through centuries we have been "disthressful." Let them look at us, I do not say through the fumes that are still rising from our ruined streets, but through the smoke that is rolling from the North Sea to Switzerland, and read in their own