The Wearing of the Green | Page 7

at
the Esplanade and at King's-bridge, were crowded with spectators.
About one o'clock the head of the procession, which had been
compressed into a dense mass in Stevens'-lane, burst like confined
water when relieved of restraint, on entering James's-street, where
every window and doorstep was crowded. Along the lines of footway
extending at either side from the old fountain up to James's-gate, were

literally tented over with umbrellas of every hue and shade, held up as
protection against the cold rain that fell in drizzling showers and made
the streetway on which the vast numbers stood ankle deep in the slushy
mud. The music of the "Dead March in Saul," heard in the distance,
caused the people to break from the lines in which they had partially
stood awaiting the arrival of the procession, which now, for the first
time, began to assume its full proportions. As it moved along the quays
at the north side of the river, every street, bridge, and laneway served to
obstruct to a considerable extent its progress and its order, owing to
interruption from carriage traffic and from the crowds that poured into
it and swelled it in its onward course. In the vast multitudes that lined
this great western artery of the city, the greatest order and propriety
were observed, and all seemed to be impressed with the one solemn and
all-pervading idea that they were assembled to express their deep
sympathy with the fate of three men whom they believed had been
condemned and had suffered death unjustly. Even amongst the young
there was not to be recognised the slightest approach to levity, and the
old characteristics of a great Irish gathering were not to be perceived
anywhere. The wrong, whether real or imaginary, done to Allen,
O'Brien, and Larkin, made their memory sacred with the thousands that
stood for hours in the December wet and cold of yesterday, to testify by
their presence their feelings and their sympathies. The horsemen
wearing green rosettes, trimmed with crape, who rode in advance of the
procession, kept back the crowds at either side that encroached on the
space in the centre of the street required for the vast coming mass to
move through. On it came, the advance with measured tread, to the
music of the band in front, and notwithstanding the mire which had to
be waded through, the line went on at quiet pace, and with admirable
order, but there was no effort at anything like semi-military swagger or
pompous demonstration. Every window along the route of the
procession was fully occupied by male and female spectators, all
wearing green ribbons and crape, and in front of several of the houses
black drapery was suspended. The tide of men, women, and children
continued to roll on in the drenching rain, but nearly all the fair
processionists carried umbrellas. It was not till the head of the vast
moving throng had reached James's-gate that anything like a just
conception could be formed of its magnitude, as it was only now that it

was beginning to get into regular shape and find room to extend itself.
The persons whose duty it was to keep the several parts of the
procession well together had no easy part to play, as the line had to be
repeatedly broken to permit the ordinary carriage traffic of the streets to
go on with as little delay as possible. The cortege at this point looked
grand and solemn in the extreme because of its vastness, and also
because of all present appearing to be impressed with the one idea. The
gloomy, wet, and cheerless weather was quite in keeping with the
funeral march of 35,000 people. The bands were placed at such proper
distances that the playing of one did not interfere with the other. After
passing James's-gate the band in front ceased to perform, and on
passing the house 151 Thomas-street every head was uncovered in
honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally
wounded by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the
second floor of that house. Such was the length of the procession, that
an hour had elapsed from the time its head entered James's-street before
the first hearse turned the corner of Stevens'-lane. In the neighbourhood
of St. Catherine's church a vast crowd of spectators had settled down,
and every available elevation was taken possession of. At this point a
large portion of the streetway was broken up for the purpose of laying
down water-pipes, and on the lifting-crane and the heaps of earth the
people wedged and packed themselves, which showed at once that this
was a great centre of attraction--and it was, for here was executed the
young and enthusiastic Robert Emmet sixty-four years ago. When
Allen, O'Brien, and