The Wearing of the Green | Page 4

up Talbot-street. The ranks began to be formed
at eleven o'clock amid a down-pour of cold rain. The mud was deep
and aqueous, and great pools ran through the streets almost level with
the paths. Some of the more prominent of the men, and several of the
committee, rode about directing and organizing the crowd, which
presented a most extraordinary appearance. A couple of thousand
young children stood quietly in the rain and slush for over an hour;
while behind them, in close-packed numbers, were over two thousand
young women. Not the least blame can be attached to those who
managed the affairs of the day, inasmuch as the throng must have far
exceeded even their most sanguine expectations. Every moment some
overwhelming accession rolled down Abbey-street or Eden-quay, and
swelled the already surging multitude waiting for the start. Long before
twelve o'clock, the streets converging on the square were packed with
spectators or intending processionists. Cabs struggled hopelessly to
yield up the large number of highly respectable and well-attired ladies
who had come to walk. Those who had hired vehicles for the day to
join the procession were convinced of the impracticable character of
their intention; and many delicate old men who would not give up the
design, braved the terrors of asthma and bronchitis, and joined the
rain-defying throng. Right across the spacious ground was one
unmoving mass, constantly being enlarged by ever-coming crowds. All
the windows in Beresford-place were filled with spectators, and the rain
and cold seemed to have no saddening effect on the numerous
multitude. The various bands of the trade were being disposed in their
respective positions, and the hearses were a long way off and altogether
in the back-ground, when, at a quarter to twelve, the first rank of men
moved forward. Almost every one had an umbrella, but they were
thoroughly saturated with the never-ceasing down-pour. As the steady,
well-kept, twelve-deep ranks moved slowly out, some ease was given
to those pent up behind; and it was really wonderful to see the facility
with which the people adapted themselves to the orders of their
directors. Every chance of falling in was seized, and soon the
procession was in motion. The first five hundred men were of the
artisan class. They were dressed very respectably, and each man wore

upon his left shoulder a green rosette, and on his left arm a band of
crape. Numbers had hat-bands depending to the shoulder; others had
close crape intertwined carefully with green ribbon around their hats;
and the great majority of the better sort adhered to this plan, which was
executed with a skill unmistakably feminine. Here and there at intervals
a man appeared with a broad green scarf around his shoulders, some
embroidered with shamrocks, and others decorated with harps. There
was not a man throughout the procession but was conspicuous by some
emblem of nationality. Appointed officers walked at the sides with
wands in their hands and gently kept back the curious and interested
crowd whose sympathy was certainly demonstrative. Behind the five
hundred men came a couple of thousand young children. These excited,
perhaps, the most considerable interest amongst the bystanders,
whether sympathetic, neutral, or opposite. Of tender age and innocent
of opinions on any subject, they were being marshalled by their parents
in a demonstration which will probably give a tone to their career
hereafter; and seeds in the juvenile mind ever bear fruit in due season.
The presence of these shivering little ones gave a serious significance
to the procession--they were hostages to the party who had organized
the demonstration. Earnestness must indeed have been strong in the
mind of the parent who directed his little son or daughter to walk in
saturating rain and painful cold through five or six miles of mud and
water, and all this merely to say "I and my children were there." It
portends something more than sentiment. It is national education with a
vengeance. Comment on this remarkable constituent was very frequent
throughout the day, and when toward evening this band of boys sang
out with lusty unanimity a popular Yankee air, spectators were satisfied
of their culture and training. After the children came about one hundred
young women who had been unable to gain their proper position, and
accepted the place which chance assigned them. They were succeeded
by a band dressed very respectably, with crape and green ribbons round
their caps. These were followed by a number of rather elderly men,
probably the parents of the children far ahead. At this portion of the
procession, a mile from the point, they marched four deep, there having
been a gradual decline from the front. Next came the bricklayers' band
all dressed in green caps, a very superior-looking body of men. Then
followed a