Showing 30 results

Verse by Michael Keating, Dublin:

'When this you see
Remember me
sawing wood

All fates defying
Seriously trying
To escape if I could'

Verse by 'B. J. M. ', Hut 26, Rath Camp:

'Oft as I've lain in my hut at night
And through the roof the rain came pouring
Then I've tucked the clothes around my head
And joined the chorus snoring'

Quote by Sir Walter Scott transcribed by Kieran Temple, Hut 28:

'Breathes there a man with soul so dead
Who ne'er to himself has said
This is my own; my native land'

Verses transcribed Padraic Ó Briain, Rath Camp:

They lost! But O! They conquer
These men who their land would save
A firing party at break of day.
And a tasty quick-lime grave.

But think not of them with scorn
Nor mourn for the cause they died
This death saved Ireland's honour
What mattered all else beside.

We've been told twas a failure by those that ne'er understood
How the new born soul of Erin was baptised in martyrs' blood
And to all who crave for freedom, as the world its
meaning know, I give them this little story
The story of Glorious Easter Week.

Painting of a pair of slippered feet and a cat in front of a fireplace. Entitled 'My thoughts go wandering home. Visions of Comfort' by J. Halpin (Drogheda), Rath Camp.

Signatures of A. Ó Caomhánaigh (Roscommon), Bertie McGetrick (Sligo), Philip Murray (Roscommon), E. Feely (Roscommon), Tom Roddy (Roscommon) and William Kehoe (Dublin).

Verse by Denis (Dinny) Pender, Internee 1076, Hut 26:

'You have asked me to write in your Auts
But I don't know where to begin
For there's nothing original in me
Except for original sin'

Signatures of Cathal O Broin (Dublin) and Frank Bulfin, T.D. (Derrinlough, Birr, Offaly).

Quote transcribed by Seaghan Ó Dulchaointigh, (Crinkle, Birr, Offaly): 'The tongue of the conqueror in the mouths of the conquered is the language of slaves'.

Unsigned watercolour of a burial cross with the inscription:
'In loving memory of Kevin Barry who died for Ireland Nov 2nd 1920'. Also captioned 'memory is the only friend that grieve [sic] can call its own.'

Verse transcribed by T. J. Casey, Hut 28:

'The R.I.C.

Many lands have slaves and traitors who would sell their race for gold
Who would lead the greedy wild beast, on the unprotected fold
But the meanest vilest wretch of all that curse the Earth today
Is the Irish-born slaveling who would fight in England's pay'