Paschal Mooney (Fianna Fail) | Oireachtas source

That is the basis for and what the Bill is about. It was tabled by the leader of the Fianna Fáil group, Senator Darragh O'Brien, and is supported by Fianna Fáil representatives throughout Dublin, some of whom are on Dublin City Council and here today, and the Save Moore Street campaign. This is living history.

I wish we would take a leaf out of the book of our American cousins when it comes to the preservation of national monuments. If one visits Washington, one will see that it is a living monument. I remember going to the Ford Theatre some years ago, where President Lincoln was assassinated. Not only is it a national monument, but the house across the street from it, to which the President was taken and where he died, is also a national monument. Part of the street is also a national monument.

I had the pleasure of visiting Springfield, Illinois some years ago. Not only has the house in which Abraham Lincoln lived prior to leaving Springfield to become President of the United States been preserved but the entire street from the 1850s has also been preserved. It has been left as it was in the time of President Lincoln, not just his house or those of his neighbours but the entire street and landscape. The vista has been left intact for people like me who want to experience the history of the area and understand what life was like and the environment in which he lived. That is what the Save Moore Street campaign is about, but it also has an added resonance.

We are privileged to have among us the grandson of The O'Rahilly. The O'Rahilly has Leitrim connections outside my town of Drumshanbo; therefore, I have a particular interest in his life. It is important to mention that on 28 April 1916, with the GPO on fire, he volunteered to lead a party of men along a route to Williams and Woods, a factory on Great Britain Street, now Parnell Street. A British machine gun, at the intersection of Great Britain Street and Moore Street, cut him and several of the others down. He slumped into a doorway on Moore Street, wounded and bleeding badly, but on hearing the English marking his position, he made a dash across the road to find shelter in Sackville Lane, now O'Rahilly Parade. He was wounded, from his shoulder to his hip, in sustained fire by the machine gunner. To their eternal shame, for 19 hours the British left him to die. Even when an ambulance driver and his assistant came to remove him, a British officer refused to allow them to do so. In other words, they wanted him to have a painful death, physically and emotionally.

That is just one of many incidents that happened in the area about which we are talking. At 8 p.m. on Friday, 28 April 1916, with the GPO engulfed in flames, the forces of the newly formed Irish Republic retreated from the building and endeavoured to make their way to the Four Courts garrison. They left the GPO by the side entrance on Henry Street and made their way under constant sniper fire to Moore Lane. The following day, on Moore Street, having stayed overnight in the houses about which we are talking, Pádraig Pearse who, through a shattered window, had seen a family while carrying a white flag - innocent civilians - brutally shot down by British forces decided they must surrender. Connolly agreed that the imminent risk that further lives would be sacrificed should not be tolerated. However, the leaders argued, wrangled and pleaded to convince themselves that the fight could be continued. It must have been a terrible time. Seán Mac Diarmada is reported to have said to the volunteers around him who did not wish to surrender that, at worst, the leaders would be executed. Therefore, they were facing their own death. The frail, grey haired 58 year old Fenian Tom Clarke openly wept as the final decision was made to surrender.

The task of conveying the message to the enemy was entrusted to the dauntless Elizabeth O'Farrell. With Captain O'Reilly's handkerchief tied to a piece of stick, she passed through the doorway of 15 Moore Street and bravely walked down the street of the dead. That is what it is called - the street of the dead - the street we are asking to be preserved as a national monument. The British military assisted her over the barricade and conveyed her to Tom Clarke's little shop on Parnell Street. There, General Lowe demanded that within half an hour she return with Pádraig Pearse to the Moore Street barricade, insisting that unconditional surrender was only acceptable to him. At 2.30 p.m. Pádraig Pearse, in his heavy military overcoat and slouched hat, marched towards the barricade, with Elizabeth O'Farrell by his side. The iconic photograph of the handing of the surrender terms to General Lowe does not include her, but in a wonderful documentary on TG4 approximately 18 months ago the photograph was separated by digital means. It is an extraordinary manifestation of what happened that in a sense Elizabeth O'Farrell was written out of history, yet she was was there on that day and part of history. Pádraig Pearse was received by General Lowe, to whom he handed his sword, pistol and ammunition. He also handed him his tin canteen which, I am told, contained two large onions, obviously to sustain him through the week. An old wooden bench was brought out onto the footpath outside Byrne's shop, at the corner of Moore Street Here, Pádraig Pearse stooped and signed the documents of surrender which had been placed on it. Elizabeth O'Farrell agreed to their joint request that she deliver the documents to the various Dublin outposts. Without speaking but with a smile, Pádraig Pearse grasped her hand for the last time.

At Moore Street headquarters the volunteers were stunned to learn the terms of the surrender. Most of them insisted on fighting to the death, but Connolly was adamant that his boys would not be burned to death. The men began to gather on the street, the street we want to preserve. Forming ranks with sloped arms, the first group marched off under Captain O'Reilly, picking up stragglers along the way. Willie Pearse headed the main body, waving his white flag. Close behind walked Tom Clarke, while towards the rear were Seán Mac Diarmada and Joseph Plunkett, supported by his brave comrades, Julia Grennan and Winifred Carney. Leaving 16 Moore Street, the temporary headquarters of the Provisional Government of Ireland, these weary warriors marched to a prison cell or a grave. They were the spark which lit the fuse that will continue to burn until Ireland is united and free.

I am grateful to a website which acknowledges that Shane Mac Thomáis wrote most of this information for a walking tour of Dublin and on the 1916 monuments. The narrative has moved me sufficiently to argue that, irrespective of all the other arguments made in this debate, there is unquestionably no argument to be made against preserving not only the houses but also the entire streetscape of Moore Street for future generations.