• 40cm x 30cm  Enniscrone Co Sligo William Butler Yeats(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) Irish poet, dramatist, prose writer and one of the foremost figures of 20th-century literature. A pillar of the Irish literary establishment, he helped to found the Abbey Theatre, and in his later years served two terms as a Senator of the Irish Free State. He was a driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival along with Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn and others. Yeats was born in Sandymount, Ireland, and educated there and in London. He was a Protestant and member of the Anglo-Irish community. He spent childhood holidays in County Sligo and studied poetry from an early age, when he became fascinated by Irish legends and the occult. These topics feature in the first phase of his work, which lasted roughly until the turn of the 20th century. His earliest volume of verse was published in 1889, and its slow-paced and lyrical poems display debts to Edmund Spenser, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and the poets of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. From 1900, his poetry grew more physical and realistic. He largely renounced the transcendental beliefs of his youth, though he remained preoccupied with physical and spiritual masks, as well as with cyclical theories of life. In 1923, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature.
  • Framed photo of an iconic moment as the Beatles arrive in Dublin,pistured outside the old Dublin Airport Terminal in 47cm x 60cm  Dublin

    November 7, 1963, one of the wildest phenomenons of the 20th century hit Dublin.... a Liverpudlian revolution named The Beatles!

    All these years later, according to The Irish Times, a plaque will be placed at the site of the event, the Adelphi Cinema on Middle Abbey Street in Dublin. The tribute honors a world-changing British rock and roll group who the columnist Quidnunc in the Times described as “four hairy youngsters. [They] appeared onstage to be greeted with shrieks and whistles. Three of them walloped electric guitars which appeared to be amplified to the decibel limit, the fourth walloped a set of drums. “They all opened their mouths and made noises that sounded to me like: ‘Mew; Me-oh, me-ooh, me-ooh-ooh!’” The Beatles had come to town for two sold-out shows at the Adelphi. Ireland would never be quite the same again Fifteen days later JFK would be assassinated.  The old innocent age drew to a close. The newspapers all reported on a strange phenomenon called Beatlemania.  “It’s happening everywhere,” declared the Daily Mirrorworriedly. What was significant was that it was young girls who were screaming their heads off, crying, scratching to get near and touch the Beatles.   Female sexuality was a completely new phenomenon in Holy Catholic Ireland, and their honors the bishops were not long in weighing in What happened in Dublin was a riot. The 3,000 pumped up crowd for the first show came streaming out only to run full tilt into the 3,000-second show patrons. Neither crowd gave way, and pushing and shoving ensued.  Then it turned nasty. A commotion described as a riot took place. The Times lead ran"
    “Many arrested as city crowds run riot.”“Cars were overturned in Abbey Street and O’Connell Street, at least 50 people were treated for minor injuries, while three people were taken to hospital with fractured legs and arms.”
    A young man was also hospitalized after being stabbed. Two hundred police and three fire brigades arrived.  Buses and taxis were halted in the melee. Only the ringing of the fire bells seemed to settle down the crowd, but soon more crowds arrived and fights began anew. “One group of youths pushed a parked car into half a dozen policemen who were trying to get them out of the street,” reported the Times. “St John’s Ambulance men treated men and women on the footpaths while the crowds swirled around them.”
    The Beatles did not hang around.  John, Paul, George, and Ringo escaped in a newspaper van to the nearby Gresham Hotel. Later, two of them went to Drumcondra to see relatives, the Times reported. The Times’ reviewer at the gig could hear nothing but the sound of “ecstatic, joyful, hysteric, demented” screams from Dublin teenagers.  He wrote:
    “A pity, this, because the Beatles, in spite of their theatrical gimmicks, their long locks, and ‘with-it’ suits, have a great act…God knows, Dublin has never seen anything like the Beatles.”
    Indeed they had not. Nor would they ever see their likes again. Despite their multiple Irish connections, the four lads would never be back, and more’s the pity.
  • 25cm x 35cm Limerick The Irish National Land League  was an Irish political organisation of the late 19th century which sought to help poor tenant farmers. Its primary aim was to abolish landlordism in Ireland and enable tenant farmers to own the land they worked on. The period of the Land League's agitation is known as the Land War. Historian R. F. Foster argues that in the countryside the Land League "reinforced the politicization of rural Catholic nationalist Ireland, partly by defining that identity against urbanization, landlordism, Englishness and—implicitly—Protestantism."Foster adds that about a third of the activists were Catholic priests, and Archbishop Thomas Croke was one of its most influential champions.

    Background

    Following the founding meeting of the Mayo Tenants Defence Association in Castlebar, County Mayo on 26 October 1878 the demand for The Land of Ireland for the people of Ireland was reported in the Connaught Telegraph 2 November 1878. The first of many "monster meetings" of tenant farmers was held in Irishtown near Claremorris on 20 April 1879, with an estimated turnout of 15,000 to 20,000 people. This meeting was addressed by James Daly (who presided), John O'Connor Power, John Ferguson, Thomas Brennan, and J. J. Louden. The Connaught Telegraph's report of the meeting in its edition of 26 April 1879 began:
    Since the days of O'Connell a larger public demonstration has not been witnessed than that of Sunday last. About 1 o'clock the monster procession started from Claremorris, headed by several thousand men on foot – the men of each district wearing a laural leaf or green ribbon in hat or coat to distinguish the several contingents. At 11 o'clock a monster contingent of tenant-farmers on horseback drew up in front of Hughes's hotel, showing discipline and order that a cavalry regiment might feel proud of. They were led on in sections, each having a marshal who kept his troops well in hand. Messrs. P.W. Nally, J.W. Nally, H. French, and M. Griffin, wearing green and gold sashes, led on their different sections, who rode two deep, occupying, at least, over an Irish mile of the road. Next followed a train of carriages, brakes, cares, etc. led on by Mr. Martin Hughes, the spirited hotel proprietor, driving a pair of rare black ponies to a phæton, taking Messrs. J.J. Louden and J. Daly. Next came Messrs. O'Connor, J. Ferguson, and Thomas Brennan in a covered carriage, followed by at least 500 vehicles from the neighbouring towns. On passing through Ballindine the sight was truly imposing, the endless train directing its course to Irishtown – a neat little hamlet on the boundaries of Mayo, Roscommon, and Galway.
    Evolving out of this a number of local land league organisations were set up to work against the excessive rents being demanded by landlords throughout Ireland, but especially in Mayo and surrounding counties. From 1874 agricultural prices in Europe had dropped, followed by some bad harvests due to wet weather during the Long Depression. The effect by 1878 was that many Irish farmers were unable to pay the rents that they had agreed, particularly in the poorer and wetter parts of Connacht. The localised 1879 Famine added to the misery. Unlike many other parts of Europe, the Irish land tenure system was inflexible in times of economic hardship.

    League founded

    National Land League plaque Imperial Hotel in Castlebar
    The Irish National Land League was founded at the Imperial Hotel in Castlebar, the County town of Mayo, on 21 October 1879. At that meeting Charles Stewart Parnell was elected president of the league. Andrew Kettle, Michael Davitt and Thomas Brennan were appointed as honorary secretaries. This united practically all the different strands of land agitation and tenant rights movements under a single organisation. The two aims of the Land League, as stated in the resolutions adopted in the meeting, were:
    ..."first, to bring about a reduction of rack-rents; second, to facilitate the obtaining of the ownership of the soil by the occupiers". That the object of the League can be best attained by promoting organisation among the tenant-farmers; by defending those who may be threatened with eviction for refusing to pay unjust rents; by facilitating the working of the Bright clauses of the Irish Land Act during the winter; and by obtaining such reforms in the laws relating to land as will enable every tenant to become owner of his holding by paying a fair rent for a limited number of years".
    Charles Stewart Parnell, John Dillon, Michael Davitt, and others then went to the United States to raise funds for the League with spectacular results. Branches were also set up in Scotland, where the Crofters Party imitated the League and secured a reforming Act in 1886. The government had introduced the first Land Act in 1870, which proved largely ineffective. It was followed by the marginally more effective Land Acts of 1880 and 1881. These established a Land Commission that started to reduce some rents. Parnell together with all of his party lieutenants, including Father Eugene Sheehyknown as "the Land League priest", went into a bitter verbal offensive and were imprisoned in October 1881 under the Irish Coercion Act in Kilmainham Jail for "sabotaging the Land Act", from where the No-Rent Manifesto was issued, calling for a national tenant farmer rent strike until "constitutional liberties" were restored and the prisoners freed. It had a modest success In Ireland, and mobilized financial and political support from the Irish Diaspora. Although the League discouraged violence, agrarian crimes increased widely. Typically a rent strike would be followed by eviction by the police and the bailiffs. Tenants who continued to pay the rent would be subject to a boycott, or as it was contemporaneously described in the US press, an "excommunication" by local League members.Where cases went to court, witnesses would change their stories, resulting in an unworkable legal system. This in turn led on to stronger criminal laws being passed that were described by the League as "Coercion Acts". The bitterness that developed helped Parnell later in his Home Rule campaign. Davitt's views as seen in his famous slogan: "The land of Ireland for the people of Ireland" was aimed at strengthening the hold on the land by the peasant Irish at the expense of the alien landowners.Parnell aimed to harness the emotive element, but he and his party were strictly constitutional. He envisioned tenant farmers as potential freeholders of the land they had rented. In the Encyclopedia Britannica, the League is considered part of the progressive "rise of fenianism".

    In the United States

    The Land League had an equivalent organization in the United States, which raised hundreds of thousands of dollars both for famine relief and also for political action.The Clan na Gael attempted to infiltrate the Land League, with limited success.

    Land war

    William Gladstone under pressure of Land League. Caricature circa 1880s.
    From 1879 to 1882, the "Land War" in pursuance of the "Three Fs" (Fair Rent, Fixity of Tenure and Free Sale) first demanded by the Tenant Right League in 1850, was fought in earnest. The League organised resistance to evictions, reductions in rents and aided the work of relief agencies. Landlords' attempts to evict tenants led to violence, but the Land League denounced excessive violence and destruction.
    Irish land League poster dating from the 1880s
    Withholding of rent led on to evictions until "Ashbourne's Act" in 1885 made it unprofitable for most landlords to evict.By then agricultural prices had made a recovery, and rents had been fixed and could be reviewed downwards, but tenants found that holding out communally was the best option. Critics noted that the poorer sub-tenants were still expected to pay their rents to tenant farmers. The widespread upheavals and extensive evictions were accompanied by several years of bad weather and poor harvests, when the tenant farmers who were unable to pay the full arrears of rents resorted to a rent strike. A renewed Land War was waged under the Plan of Campaign from 1886 up until 1892 during which the League decided on a fair rent and then encouraged its members to offer this rent to the landlords. If this was refused, then the rent would be paid by tenants to the League and the landlord would not receive any money until he accepted a discount. The first target, ironically, was a member of the Catholic clergy, Canon Ulick Burke of Knock, who was eventually induced to reduce his rents by 25%. Many landlords resisted these tactics, often violently and there were deaths on either side of the dispute. The Royal Irish Constabulary, the national police force, largely made up of Irishmen, were charged with upholding the law and protecting both landlord and tenant against violence. Originally, the movement cut across some sectarian boundaries, with some meetings held in Orange halls in Ulster, but the tenancy system in effect there Ulster Custom was quite different and fairer to tenants and support drifted away. As a result of the Land War, the Irish National Land League was suppressed by the authorities. In October 1882, as its successor Parnell founded the Irish National League to campaign on broader issues including Home Rule.Many of the Scottish members formed the Scottish Land Restoration League. In 1881, the League started publishing United Ireland a weekly newspaper edited by William O'Brien, which continued until 1898.

    Outcomes

    Within decades of the league's foundation, through the efforts of William O'Brien and George Wyndham (a descendant of Lord Edward FitzGerald), the 1902 Land Conference produced the Land Purchase (Ireland) Act 1903 which allowed Irish tenant farmers to buy out their freeholds with UK government loans over 68 years through the Land Commission (an arrangement that has never been possible in Britain itself). For agricultural labourers, D.D. Sheehanand the Irish Land and Labour Association secured their demands from the Liberal government elected in 1905 to pass the Labourers (Ireland) Act 1906, and the Labourers (Ireland) Act 1911, which paid County Councils to build over 40,000 new rural cottages, each on an acre of land. By 1914, 75% of occupiers were buying out their landlords, mostly under the two Acts. In all, under the pre-UK Land Acts over 316,000 tenants purchased their holdings amounting to 15 million acres (61,000 km2) out of a total of 20 million acres (81,000 km2) in the country. Sometimes the holdings were described as "uneconomic", but the overall sense of social justice was manifest. The major land reforms came when Parliament passed laws in 1870, 1881, 1903 and 1909 that enabled most tenant farmers to purchase their lands, and lowered the rents of the others. From 1870 and as a result of the Land War agitations and the Plan of Campaign of the 1880s, various British governments introduced a series of Irish Land Acts. William O'Brien played a leading role in the 1902 Land Conference to pave the way for the most advanced social legislation in Ireland since the Union, the Wyndham Land Purchase Act of 1903. This Act set the conditions for the break-up of large estates and gradually devolved to rural landholders, and tenants' ownership of the lands. It effectively ended the era of the absentee landlord, finally resolving the Irish Land Question.
  • Gerry ‘Ginger' McLoughlin – better known as ‘Locky' in his native Limerick - was instrumental in winning the 1982 Triple Crown, Ireland's first since 1949. Below, ‘Locky' tells of his flirtation with the priesthood, Limerick's rugby rivalries and great players, his call-up to international rugby and the fateful tour to apartheid South Africa which impacted on his teaching career By Dave McMahon   There are few contenders for the most memorable Irish try of the last 50 years. A generation who remember the days of black and white television will cite Pat Casey's ‘criss-cross' try against England at Twickenham in 1964 when Mike Gibson's searing break gave Jerry Walsh the opportunity to deliver the decisive reverse pass. Gordon Hamilton's superb burst to score in the Lansdowne Road corner against Australia in the 1991 World Cup ranks high in the list – a try that rarely gets the credit it deserves because of Michael Lynagh's instant riposte. Nearer the present day, the delayed October Six-Nations game against England in 2001 saw Keith Wood score one of the great forwards inspired try's against the auld enemy at Lansdowne Road.  A try, indeed, which gave purists as much pleasure as any, with the pack orchestrating the score with military precision. The line-out throw from Wood; Galwey's clean take; Foley's magical hands; Eric Miller doing just enough to create the running channel; Wood's powerful burst through Neil Back's tackle for the touchdown. And then, you had Locky's try against England at Twickenham in the Triple Crown winning year of 1982 – a different class! In recalling 1982, it's Gerry McLoughlin's try that represents the defining moment of Ireland's first Triple Crown winning year since 1949.  Ollie Campbell's touchline conversion of McLoughlin's try (pictured left) helped Ireland to a 16-15 victory and an ultimately successful Triple Crown decider against Scotland two weeks later.  Three generations of Irish rugby heroes had come and gone without Triple Crown success – McBride, Kiernan, Dawson, O'Reilly, Gibson, and Goodall.  Gerry McLoughlin's try helped create history, and he isn't slow to trumpet his role in '82.“At the time, I was misquoted as saying I dragged the Irish pack over the line with me.In fact, I dragged the entire Irish and English forwards across the line that day! Also, I never got the credit for creating the free which led to my try.  As Steve Smith was about to put-in at an English scrum, I whispered to Ciaran Fitzgerald that I intended to pull the scrum, which I did successfully with the result that Smith was penalised for crooked-in.  After the free was taken, I took over.” It was a tremendous year for McLoughlin during a rugby career which had its share of heartbreak as well as some glorious highs. “As a young man, I dabbled with hurling and gaelic football as a full-back or full-forward with St. Patrick's CBS. I had no great skill at either code; I simply mullocked and laid into guys. My destiny was certainly never to be a skillful All-Ireland winning hurler with Limerick. Rugby was always going to be my game. “Brian O'Brien got three Irish caps in 1968 and I regarded him as a hero, so it was always on that I should join Shannon, while my late father, Mick, had won Transfield Cup medals with the parish side.  Joining Shannon at 16, my bulk and size immediately saw me go into the front-row where I had Michael Noel Ryan, who had captained the first-ever Shannon team to win the Munster Senior Cup, as a sound mentor. “Frankly, at the time, I didn't plan on a rugby career as I had other designs on my life.  As soon as I entered Sexton Street CBS, my admiration for the role that the Christian Brothers played in Irish society saw me develop a vocation to become a Christian Brother. I spent a 3 year novitiate between Carriglea Park in Dun Laoghaire and St. Helens in Booterstown and was within 3 weeks of taking my vows of poverty, chastity and obedience before deciding that I wanted to opt out. “Had I taken the vows, I would have entered a world where there was no television, no newspapers and would not be able to take holidays or see my family for the best part of five years.  That's the way it was in those days. I was at a young impressionable age and, in the end, I got stage fright and returned to Sexton Street as a pupil. “At 18, I was in the Shannon senior-cup team and I knew that I had some ability. After Sexton Street, I went to UCG to do my BA and that gave me the opportunity of further developing my rugby skills as I joined Ciaran Fitzgerald in the Colleges senior front-row.  I won a handful of senior caps with Connacht who were not very successful at the time.  The highlight of my Connacht career came when we ended a near 10-year losing run by beating, believe it or not, Spain by 7-3 in 1973.  I played with some decent players in my days with Connacht, Mick Molloy and Leo Galvin were often in the second-row, while Mick Casserly was probably the best wing-forward never to be capped by Ireland.” After graduating from UCG, and the successful completion of a teacher-training degree with UCC, McLoughlin returned to his alma mater Sexton Street CBS as an Economics teacher in 1973 – and to the front-row in a Shannon senior-team that was about to make it's mark on the Irish rugby scene. “In those days, the rivalry between Limerick clubs was intense.  Young Munster was a proud working-class club that commanded tremendous support and playing against them, especially in Greenfields, was often tougher than the Cardiff Arms Park.  Reputations counted for nothing.  You ignored hamstrings, cuts, strains and blood – you earned respect against them.” “Of course, Garryowen set the standard with their huge number of Munster Cup victories.  In my time, they had a great full-back in Larry Moloney.  Just four caps with Ireland was no reward for his ability. Despite spending 13 years of my life in Wales, the edge between Shannon and Garryowen is deeply engrained in my brain. Time hasn't diminished that rivalry. “People speak of Limerick rugby and the syndrome of doctor and docker playing side by side.  That was certainly the case with Garryowen.  Mick Lucey and Len Harty were doctors who played in the light blues three-quarter line in the late 60's. Then, you often had Dr. Jim Molloy playing in the Garryowen pack alongside Tom Carroll who was a Limerick docker. To this day, I maintain that Carroll was both the toughest and technically most proficient prop-forward I ever encountered.  Tom was not much more than 13 stone, yet I never got the better of him. “In my early days with Shannon, we hardly rated on the rugby map.  Teams like Trinity and Wanderers didn't want games against us. Garryowen were the standard bearers in Limerick and our aim was to become as good as them.  After I returned from UCG in 1973, Shannon, with Brian O'Brien pulling the strings, had begun to assemble a powerful team.  Brendan Foley was a fine second-row and an inspirational captain.  Colm Tucker was the best ball-carrying wing-forward I ever played with.  Colm was good enough to play in two tests for the Lions against South Africa in 1980, yet he was only capped on three occasions by Ireland.  That was an absolute joke. “You would go a long way before finding better club forwards than my brother Mick, Eddie Price, Johnny Barry and Noel Ryan.  Later, Niall O'Donovan came through as an outstanding number eight.  Noel Ryan,  indeed, was such a good loose-head prop that I played all my games for Shannon and, subsequently, Ireland at tight-head, while my entire career with Munster, and a handful of games with the Lions in 1983, was in the loose-head position.  Playing on either side of the scrum never presented problems as the emphasis in training with Shannon was always on having a powerful scrummage as a starting-point.” Just six months after representing Connacht against Spain, McLoughlin won his first Munster ‘cap' in a fiery encounter against Argentina at Thomond Park. That was the start of a long interprovincial career which lasted from 1983 to 1987. An ever-present in the Munster team, the breakthrough to International level proved daunting and is the source of fiery comment from McLoughlin. “As I was a regular with Munster, I was asked to submit a CV by the IRFU to facilitate any calling to International level. I did all the right things.  I deducted a year from my age with the result that my birth date changed from 11 June 1951 to 11 June 1952. I added a half-inch to my height to make sure that I came in as a sturdy six footer.  I weighed 13 stone, 11 ounces those days and I remember sticking 7 pounds of lead into my jockstrap at a formal weigh-in to hit the 14 stone, 4 ounce mark. Still, the call to international representation was light years away. Ciaran Fitzgerald knew my correct age, but kept it quiet for years before revealing all to the IRFU one evening when he had a few too many. At that stage, it didn't matter. “The selection system was just a joke with two Leinster, two Ulster and a solitary Munster selector, with Connacht having no representation at all. To this day, I often wonder how Ciaran Fitzgerald was ever capped.  I played some fine rugby for Munster over many years, yet I never came close to making the International scene and I doubt that I would have were it not for Munster beating the All Blacks in 1978.  The selectors found it impossible to ignore us after that. I was also very lucky that Brian O'Brien eventually came through as an Irish selector.  For years, he kept me in a ‘job', and I kept him in a ‘job'.” Munster's victory over New Zealand remains the most emotional game of McLoughlin's career.  “It wasn't a fluke by any means as that was a superb Munster team.  For starters, the usual Cork/Limerick selectorial carve-up didn't apply as twelve of the Munster team picked themselves.  We had leaders and quality players all over the field.  Wardie (Tony Ward) was under pressure all day, but still managed to kick brilliantly for position; Canniffe gave him a great service; Dennison and Barrett never stopped tackling; Larry Moloney was himself at full-back; Andy Haden might have won the line-out battle, but we matched the All Blacks forwards everywhere else; in the end, we fully deserved our 12-0 victory. “After that success over New Zealand, I was totally focused on making the step up to International level. I was often asked for tips by budding prop-forwards, but I never revealed anything useful in case the younger man got better than me.  You spend all your career striving to get to the top and the last thing you wanted was someone to get ahead of you in the race.  I had to be both dedicated and selfish.” Just three months after beating New Zealand and a successful final-trial outing with the probables, McLoughlin made his international debut against France. He may have been listed as ‘G.A.J. McLoughlin' on the match programme, but Limerick rugby followers still called him ‘Locky' – one of their own!  Woe betide the fate of any Dublin hack that resorted to ‘Ginger'. Nearly 30 years after his International debut, he is still ‘Locky' in Limerick, but the metropolitan media continually refer to him as ‘Ginger'. But what's in a name? Some 10 years ago an almost fatal blow was struck against the ‘Locky' constituency. With the future of Connacht rugby under threat, a protest march to IRFU headquarters at Lansdowne Road was made.  Remembering his youthful days in UCG and that famous victory over Spain, Gerry McLoughlin was at the forefront of the parade with a banner which read “Ginger supports Connacht rugby”.  Locky or Ginger? Take your pick. If the Triple Crown and Munster's victory over the All Blacks were career highlights, McLoughlin's decision to tour South Africa with Ireland in 1981 cast a long shadow over his life. “I was teaching in Sexton Street at the time and initially got approval from the school to travel.  However, just a week before we were due to depart, a change of management took place within the school and my permission to travel was withdrawn.  It left me with a very difficult decision to make.  I was married with a young family, but I dearly wanted to represent my country.  Also, I felt that South Africa were making advances on apartheid.  Errol Tobias, in fact, became the first non-white player to wear the Springboks jersey in a full-international against Ireland.  In the end, I resigned my teaching position and travelled with Ireland.” In rugby terms, McLoughlin's decision to travel was justified as he regained his Irish place and played in both tests. However, it was altogether different on a personal level. “On my return from South Africa, I was advised that I had a solid legal case against my former employers in Sexton Street but I decided against taking any action as I had a great love of the Christian Brothers and had witnessed the benefits which their dedication gave to generations of children.  They were put under severe pressure at the time as apartheid was a political and social time-bomb.” McLoughlin is far less forgiving when it came to the IRFU post-South Africa. “I wrote to every school in the country and couldn't get an interview, never mind get a job. The IRFU had plenty of people in positions of power, but the support from that quarter was nil. Ray McLoughlin (no relation) and Mick Molloy did offer considerable help at the time. Other than that, I was largely left to fend for myself.” From a remove of nearly 30 years, McLoughlin is philosophical. “It was my decision to travel to South Africa – I had to accept the consequences.” A part-time job teaching in the Municipal Institute of Technology followed, but that was never going to be enough to support a young family.  The painful decision to emigrate to Wales was taken, after recession forced McLoughlin to close his pub – aptly named The Triple Crown – which he owned for five years. “In all, I spent 13 years in Wales, teaching in Gilfach Goch near Pontypridd during the day and running a pub in the evenings before deciding to return to Ireland.  At the moment, my daughter Orla, who is getting married next August, is based in Limerick, while my three sons, Cian, Fionn and Emmet are in Wales where they spent so much of their youth.” Nowadays, living in Garryowen in the shade of St. John's Cathedral, Gerry McLoughlin enjoys a contented social and political life. “I was elected to the Limerick City Council as an Independent in 2004, before subsequently joining the Labour party.  I had always admired the social vision of the late Jim Kemmy, so the move to Labour was a natural progression for me. “On a professional level, I'm energised by the day job as a social needs assistant at St. Mary's Boys School in the heart of the parish.  I'm a lifetime non-smoker and I haven't touched alcohol in the last 14 years. I have a hectic political schedule, but I also find plenty of time to engage in worthwhile community work. “Recently, we formed an under 13/14 girls soccer club in Garryowen and I'm involved as Treasurer.  Also, I coach St. Mary's under-age teens in rugby on Sunday mornings, while I have a similar role in soccer coaching with Star Rovers youngsters. Nowadays, my ambition is to give every child the opportunity to kick a ball.” The man who once propped against the famous Pontypool front-row confesses to a surprising social outlet: “I had a knee replacement operation in 2004 and that gave me the freedom to enjoy ballroom dancing on at least three evenings a week. It's wonderful for social relaxation”. Gerry McLoughlin has few, if any, regrets about his rugby career. “In the current era, I might have won 50 instead of 18 caps, but I have the memory of never losing in an Irish jersey at Lansdowne Road and I wouldn't change the Triple Crown success or beating the All Blacks for anything. Would I do things differently? Possibly.  I might have deducted two years from my age if I was starting all over again!”
  • 30cm x 30cmJohn Charlton OBE (8 May 1935 – 10 July 2020) was an English footballer and manager who played as a defender. He was part of the England team that won the 1966 World Cup and managed the Republic of Ireland national team from 1986 to 1996 achieving two World Cup and one European Championship appearances. He spent his entire club career with Leeds United from 1950 to 1973, helping the club to the Second Division title (1963–64), First Division title (1968–69), FA Cup (1972), League Cup (1968), Charity Shield (1969), Inter-Cities Fairs Cup (1968 and 1971), as well as one other promotion from the Second Division (1955–56) and five second-place finishes in the First Division, two FA Cup final defeats and one Inter-Cities Fairs Cup final defeat. His 629 league and 762 total competitive appearances are club records. He was the elder brother of former Manchester United forward Bobby Charlton, who was also a teammate in England's World Cup final victory. In 2006, Leeds United supporters voted Charlton into the club's greatest XI.[4]

    Called up to the England team days before his 30th birthday, Charlton went on to score six goals in 35 international games and to appear in two World Cups and one European Championship. He played in the World Cup final victory over West Germany in 1966, and also helped England to finish third in Euro 1968 and to win four British Home Championship tournaments. He was named FWA Footballer of the Year in 1967.

    After retiring as a player he worked as a manager, and led Middlesbrough to the Second Division title in 1973–74, winning the Manager of the Year award in his first season as a manager. He kept Boro as a stable top-flight club before he resigned in April 1977. He took charge of Sheffield Wednesday in October 1977, and led the club to promotion out of the Third Division in 1979–80. He left the Owls in May 1983, and went on to serve Middlesbrough as caretaker-manager at the end of the 1983–84 season. He worked as Newcastle United manager for the 1984–85 season. He took charge of the Republic of Ireland national team in February 1986, and led them to their first World Cup in 1990, where they reached the quarter-finals. He also led the nation to successful qualification to Euro 1988 and the 1994 World Cup. He resigned in January 1996 and went into retirement. He was married to Pat Kemp and they had three children.

    Ireland manager Jack Charlton and assistant Maurice Setters after the loss to Italy in the quarter-finals of the 1990 World Cup. Photo: Billy Stickland/Inpho

    Ireland manager Jack Charlton and assistant Maurice Setters after the loss to Italy in the quarter-finals of the 1990 World Cup

     

    Charlton is introduced to the crowd before the the friendly between Ireland and England in 2015. Photo: Donall Farmer/Inpho

  • 30cm x 30cm
    John Charlton OBE (8 May 1935 – 10 July 2020) was an English footballer and manager who played as a defender. He was part of the England team that won the 1966 World Cup and managed the Republic of Ireland national team from 1986 to 1996 achieving two World Cup and one European Championship appearances. He spent his entire club career with Leeds United from 1950 to 1973, helping the club to the Second Division title (1963–64), First Division title (1968–69), FA Cup (1972), League Cup (1968), Charity Shield (1969), Inter-Cities Fairs Cup (1968 and 1971), as well as one other promotion from the Second Division (1955–56) and five second-place finishes in the First Division, two FA Cup final defeats and one Inter-Cities Fairs Cup final defeat. His 629 league and 762 total competitive appearances are club records. He was the elder brother of former Manchester United forward Bobby Charlton, who was also a teammate in England's World Cup final victory. In 2006, Leeds United supporters voted Charlton into the club's greatest XI.[4]

    Called up to the England team days before his 30th birthday, Charlton went on to score six goals in 35 international games and to appear in two World Cups and one European Championship. He played in the World Cup final victory over West Germany in 1966, and also helped England to finish third in Euro 1968 and to win four British Home Championship tournaments. He was named FWA Footballer of the Year in 1967.

    After retiring as a player he worked as a manager, and led Middlesbrough to the Second Division title in 1973–74, winning the Manager of the Year award in his first season as a manager. He kept Boro as a stable top-flight club before he resigned in April 1977. He took charge of Sheffield Wednesday in October 1977, and led the club to promotion out of the Third Division in 1979–80. He left the Owls in May 1983, and went on to serve Middlesbrough as caretaker-manager at the end of the 1983–84 season. He worked as Newcastle United manager for the 1984–85 season. He took charge of the Republic of Ireland national team in February 1986, and led them to their first World Cup in 1990, where they reached the quarter-finals. He also led the nation to successful qualification to Euro 1988 and the 1994 World Cup. He resigned in January 1996 and went into retirement. He was married to Pat Kemp and they had three children.

    Ireland manager Jack Charlton and assistant Maurice Setters after the loss to Italy in the quarter-finals of the 1990 World Cup. Photo: Billy Stickland/Inpho

    Ireland manager Jack Charlton and assistant Maurice Setters after the loss to Italy in the quarter-finals of the 1990 World Cup

     

    Charlton is introduced to the crowd before the the friendly between Ireland and England in 2015. Photo: Donall Farmer/Inpho

  • 40cm x 37cm Michael Collins (16 October 1890 – 22 August 1922) was an Irish revolutionary, soldier and politician who was a leading figure in the early-20th century struggle for Irish independence.During the War of Independence he was Director of Intelligence of the Irish Republican Army (IRA) and a government minister of the self-declared Irish Republic. He was then Chairman of the Provisional Government of the Irish Free State from January 1922 and commander-in-chief of the National Army from July until his death in an ambush in August 1922, during the Civil War. Collins was born in Woodfield, County Cork, the youngest of eight children. He moved to London in 1906 to become a clerk in the Post Office Savings Bank at Blythe House. He was a member of the London GAA, through which he became associated with the Irish Republican Brotherhood and the Gaelic League. He returned to Ireland in January 1916 and fought in the Easter Rising. He was taken prisoner and held in the Frongoch internment camp as a prisoner of war, but he was released in December 1916. Collins subsequently rose through the ranks of the Irish Volunteers and Sinn Féin. He was elected as a Teachta Dála for South Cork in December 1918. Sinn Féin's elected members formed an Irish parliament, the First Dáil, in January 1919 and declared the independence of the Irish Republic. Collins was appointed Minister for Finance. In the ensuing War of Independence, he was Director of Organisation and Adjutant General for the Irish Volunteers, and Director of Intelligence of the IRA. He gained fame as a guerrilla warfare strategist, planning many successful attacks on British forces together with 'the Squad', such as the "Bloody Sunday" assassinations of key British intelligence agents in November 1920. After the July 1921 ceasefire, Collins was one of five plenipotentiaries sent by the Dáil cabinet at the request of Éamon de Valera, to negotiate peace terms in London. The resulting Anglo-Irish Treaty, signed in December 1921, would establish the Irish Free State but depended on an oath of allegiance to the Crown. This was the clause in the treaty de Valera and other republican leaders found hardest to accept. Collins viewed the treaty as offering "the freedom to achieve freedom", and helped persuade a majority of the Dáil to ratify the treaty. A provisional government was formed under his chairmanship in early 1922. During this time he secretly provided support for an IRA offensive in Northern Ireland. It was soon disrupted by the Irish Civil War, in which Collins was commander-in-chief of the National Army. He was shot and killed in an ambush by anti-Treaty forces on 22 August 1922
  • 48cm x 38cm The Shelbourne Hotel is a historic hotel in Dublin, Ireland, situated in a landmark building on the north side of St Stephen's Green. Currently owned by Kennedy Wilsonand operated by Marriott International, the hotel has 265 rooms in total and reopened in March 2007 after undergoing an eighteen-month refurbishment.

    History

    The Shelbourne Hotel was founded in 1824 by Martin Burke, a native of Tipperary, when he acquired three adjoining townhousesoverlooking Stephen's Green, Europe's largest garden square. Burke named his grand new hotel The Shelbourne, after William Petty, 2nd Earl of Shelburne. William Makepeace Thackeray was an early guest, staying in 1842 and including a piece about the Shelbourne in The Irish Sketch-Book (1843). In the early 1900s, Alois Hitler jr., the elder half-brother of Adolf Hitler, worked in the hotel while in Dublin. During the 1916 Easter Rising the hotel was occupied by 40 British troops under Captain Andrews to counter the Irish Citizen Armyand Irish Volunteer forces, commanded by Michael Mallin, who had occupied Stephen's Green. In 1922, the Constitution of the Irish Free State was drafted in room 112, now known as The Constitution Room. The facade was refurbished in 2016, winning an award from the Irish Georgian Society. In December 2018 UEFA's executive committee made the draw for the 2019 UEFA Nations League Finals in the hotel.

    Statues

    A major redesign by John McCurdy was completed in 1867, with the Foundry of Val d'Osne casting the four external caryatid style torchère statues. These were based on two repeated beaux-arts neoclassical models originally sculpted by the prolific French sculptor Mathurin Moreau entitled Égyptienne – the two female Ancient Egyptianfigures flanking either side of the front door, and Négresse – the two female ancient Kushite (Nubian)figures flanking either corner of the main building. All four statues are wearing gold coloured anklets, and are draped, with jewellery picked out in gilt while supporting a torch with a frosted glass flambeau shade.All four statues are on a circular base with a further square metal plinth with cartouches to the angles indicating royal descent. In feint writing at the front of the circular base of all four statues can be seen the name of the foundry which produced the statues Val d'Osne. Of the several other examples of the castings, the most notable can be seen in the porch of the hôtel de ville (town hall) in the French town of Remiremont as well as outside the mausoleum of the architect Temple Hoyne Buellin Denver, Colorado and in the Jardins do Palácio de Cristal in Porto.In all three cases the door is flanked either side by one Égyptienne and one Négresse statue indicating parity. In July 2020, the statues at the front of the building were removed by management as a precautionary response to the toppling and removal of statues following the murder of George Floyd and Black Lives Matter protests. This move resulted from the belief that either two or all four of the statues represented Nubian slaves shown in manacles. Both histories of the hotel, that of 1951 by Elizabeth Bowen and that of 1999 by Michael O'Sullivan, state that two of the statues represent slaves or servants, with Bowen stating "on each stands a female statue, Nubian in aspect, holding a torch shaped lamp". Kyle Leyden, an art historian at the Courtauld Institute, argued that none of the statues are of the established "Nubian slave" type, and that all four figures wear ankletsindicating aristocratic status, rather than shackles.After an examination by Paula Murphy, an art historian at University College Dublin, concluded that the statues were not representations of slaves, it was announced that they would be restored to their plinths.After being cleaned, they were reinstalled on the night of 14 December. In James Joyce's Ulysses, Leopold Bloom remembers the Shelbourne as where "Mrs Miriam Dandrade", a "Divorced Spanish American" sold him "her old wraps and black underclothes  
  • 68cm x 46cm
    The biggest cliché in the collecting world is the “discovery” of a previously unknown cache of stuff that’s been hidden away for years until one day, much to everyone’s amazement, the treasure trove is unearthed and the collecting landscape is changed forever. As a corollary to this hoary trope, if you are in the right place at the right time, you can get in on the action before the word gets out.

    “Some of the canvases were 80 years old, dating from 1930.”

    Cliché or not, that’s roughly what happened in 2008 when hundreds of artist John Gilroy’s oil-on-canvas paintings started to appear on the market. The canvases had been painted by Gilroy as final proofs for his iconic Guinness beer posters, the most recognized alcoholic-beverage advertisements of the mid-20th century. Before most collectors of advertising art and breweriana knew what had happened, most of the best pieces had been snapped up by a handful of savvy collectors. In fact, the distribution of the canvases into the hands of private collectors was so swift and stealthy that one prominent member of the Guinness family was forced to get their favorite Gilroys on the secondary market.
    One of those early collectors, who wishes to remain anonymous, recalls seeing several canvases for the first time at an antiques show. At first, he thought they were posters since that’s what Guinness collectors have come to expect. But after looking at them more closely, and realizing they were all original paintings, he purchased the lot on the spot. “It was quite exciting to stumble upon what appeared to be the unknown original advertising studies for one of the world’s great brands,” he says. But the casualness of that first encounter would not last, as competition for the newly found canvases ramped up among collectors. Today, the collector describes the scramble for these heretofore-unknown pieces as “a Gilroy art scrum.”
    Among those who were particularly interested in the news of the Gilroy cache was David Hughes, who was a brewer at Guinness for 15 years and has written three books on Guinness advertising art and collectibles, the most recent being “Gilroy Was Good for Guinness,” which reproduces more than 150 of the recently “discovered” paintings. Despite being an expert on the cheery ephemera that was created to sell the dark, bitter stout, Hughes, like a lot of people, only learned of the newly uncovered Gilroy canvases as tantalizing examples from the cache (created for markets as diverse as Russia, Israel, France, and the United States) started to surface in 2008.
    “Within the Guinness archives itself,” Hughes says of the materials kept at the company’s Dublin headquarters, “they’ve got lots of advertising art, watercolors, and sketches of workups towards the final version of the posters. But they never had a single oil painting. Until the paintings started turning up in the United States, where Guinness memorabilia is quite collectible, it wasn’t fully understood that the posters were based on oils. All of the canvases will be in collections within a year,” Hughes adds. For would-be Gilroy collectors, that means the clock is ticking.
    As it turns out, Gilroy’s entire artistic process was a prelude to the oils. “The first thing he’d usually do was a pencil sketch,” says Hughes. “Then he’d paint a watercolor over the top of the pencil sketch to get the color balance right. Once that was settled and all the approvals were in, he’d sit down and paint the oil. The proof version that went to Guinness for approval, it seems, was always an oil painting.”
    Based on what we know of John Gilroy’s work as an artist, that makes sense. For almost half a century, Gilroy was regarded not only as one of England’s premier commercial illustrators, but also as one of its best portraitists. “He painted the Queen three times,” says Hughes, “Lord Mountbatten about four times. In 1942, he did a pencil-and-crayon sketch of Churchill in a London bunker.” According to Hughes, Churchill gave that portrait to Russian leader Joseph Stalin at the Yalta Conference with Franklin Delano Roosevelt, which may mean that somewhere in the bowels of the Kremlin, there’s a portrait of Winnie by the same guy who made a living drawing cartoons of flying toucans balancing pints of Guinness on their beaks.
    For those who collect advertising art and breweriana, Gilroy is revered for the numerous campaigns he conceived as an illustrator for S.H. Benson, the venerable British ad agency, which was founded in 1893. Though most famous for the Guinness toucan, which has been the internationally recognized mascot of Guinness since 1935, Gilroy’s first campaign with S.H. Benson was for a yeast extract called Bovril. “Do you have Bovril in the U.S.?” Hughes asks. “It’s a rather dark, pungent, savory spread that goes on toast or bread. It’s full of vitamins, quite a traditional product. He also did a lot of work on campaigns for Colman’s mustard and Macleans toothpaste.”
    pparently Gilroy’s work caught the eye of Guinness, which wanted something distinctive for its stout. “A black beer is a unique product,” says Hughes. “There weren’t many on the market then, and there are even fewer now. So they wanted their advertising to be well thought of and agreeable to the public.” For example, in the early 1930s, Benson already had an ad featuring a glass of Guinness with a nice foamy head on top. “Gilroy put a smiling face in the foam,” says Hughes. Collectors often refer to this charming drawing as the “anthropomorphic glass.”
    That made the black beer friendly. To ensure that it would be appealing to the common man, Benson launched its “Guinness for Strength” campaign, whose most famous image is the 1934 Gilroy illustration of a muscular workman effortlessly balancing an enormous steel girder on one arm and his head.
    Another early campaign put Guinness beer in the world of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” “Guinness and oysters were a big thing,” says Hughes. In one ad, “Gilroy drew all the oysters from the poem ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ sipping glasses of Guinness.”
    nd then there were the animals, of which the toucan is only the most recognized, and not even the first (that honor goes to a seal). “He had the lion and the ostrich and the bear up the pole,” Hughes says. “There was a whole menagerie of them. The animals kept going for 30 years. It’s probably the longest running campaign in advertising history.”
    Most of Gilroy’s animals lived in a zoo, so a central character of the animal advertisements was a zookeeper, who was a caricature of the artist himself. “That’s what Gilroy looked like,” says Hughes. “Gilroy was a chubby, little man with a little moustache. As a younger man, he drew himself into the advert, and he became the zookeeper.”
    Gilroy’s animals good-naturedly tormented their zookeeper by stealing his precious Guinness: An ostrich swallows his glass pint whole, whose bulging outline can be seen in its slender throat; a seal balances a pint on its nose; a kangaroo swaps her “joey” for the zookeeper’s brown bottle. Often the zookeeper is so taken aback by these circumstances his hat has popped off his head.
    In fact, Gilroy spent a lot of time at the London Zoo to make sure he captured the essence of his animals accurately. “In the archives at Guinness,” says Hughes, “there are a lot of sketches of tortoises, emus, ostriches, and the rest. He perfected the drawing of the animals by going to the zoo, then he adapted them for the adverts.” As a result, a Gilroy bear really looked like a bear, albeit one with a smile on its face.
    During World War II, Gilroy’s Guinness ads managed to keep their sense of humor (eg: two sailors painting the hull of an aircraft carrier, each wishing the other was a Guinness), and in the 1950s and early ’60s, Gilroy’s famous pint-toting toucans flew all over the world for Guinness, in front of the Kremlin as well as Mt. Rushmore, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the Statue of Liberty, although some of these paintings never made it to the campaign stage.
    Gilroy’s work on the Guinness account ended in 1962, and in 1971, Benson was gobbled up by the Madison Avenue advertising firm of Ogilvy & Mather. By then, says Hughes, Gilroy’s work for Guinness was considered the pinnacle of poster design in the U.K., and quite collectible. “The posters were made by a lithographic process. In the 1930s, the canvases were re-created on stone by a print maker, but eventually the paintings were transferred via photolithography onto metal sheets. Some of the biggest posters were made for billboards. Those used 64 different sheets that you’d give to the guy with the bucket of wheat paste and a mop to put up in the right order to create the completed picture.”
    In terms of single-sheet posters, Hughes says the biggest ones were probably 4 by 3 feet. Benson’s had an archive of it all, but “when Benson’s shut down in ’71, when they were taken over, they cleaned out their stockroom of hundreds of posters and gave them to the British Museum and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Today, both have collections of the original posters, including the 64-sheets piled into these packets, which were wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. They’re extremely difficult to handle; you can’t display them, really.”
    At least the paper got a good home. As for the canvases? Well, their history can only be pieced together based on conjecture, but here’s what Hughes thinks he knows.
    Sometime in the 1970s, a single collector whose name remains a mystery appears to have purchased as many as 700 to 900 Gilroy paintings that had been in the archives. “The guy who bought the whole archive was an American millionaire,” Hughes says. “He’s a secretive character who doesn’t want to be identified. I don’t blame him. He doesn’t want any publicity about how he bought the collection or its subsequent sale.”
    air enough. What we do know for sure is that the years were not kind to Gilroy’s canvases while in storage at Benson’s. In fact, it’s believed that more than half of the cache did not survive the decades and were probably destroyed by the mystery collector who bought them because of their extremely deteriorated condition (torn canvases, images blackened by mildew, etc.). After all, when Gilroy’s canvases were put away, no one at Benson’s thought they’d be regarded in the future as masterpieces.
    “A lot of the rolled-up canvases were stuck together,” says Hughes. “Oil takes a long while to dry. Gilroy diluted his oils with what’s called Japan drier, which is a sort of oil thinner that allows you to put the oil on the canvas in a much thinner texture, and then roll them up afterwards. The painted canvas becomes reasonably flexible. The problem is that even with a drier, they still took a long time to dry. And if someone had packed them tightly together and put weight on them, which is what must have happened while the Gilroy paintings were in storage at Benson’s, they’d just stick together. Some of the canvases were 80 years old, dating from 1930.”
    For diehard Guinness-advertising fans, though, it’s not all bad news. After all, almost half of the cache was saved, “and it’s beautiful,” says Hughes. “I’ve just come back from Boston to look at a lot of these canvases out there, and they are superb. The guy who’s selling the canvases I saw had about 40 or 50 with him. They’re absolutely fabulous.”
    Although he has no proof, Hughes believes the person who bought the cache in the 1970s also oversaw its preservation. Importantly to many collectors, all of the Gilroy canvases are in their found condition, stabilized but essentially unchanged. Even areas in the paint that show evidence of rubbing from adjacent canvases remain as they were found. “I think the preservation has been done by the owner,” Hughes says. “I don’t think the dealers did it. It’s my understanding that they were supplied with fully stabilized canvases from the original buyer. It appears that they were shipped from the U.K., so that’s interesting in itself.” Which suggests they never left the United Kingdom after being purchased by the mysterious American millionaire.
    collectors of the approval process at Benson. Gilroy painted his canvases on stretchers, and in the bottom corner of each canvas was a small tag identifying the artist, account code, and action to be taken (“Re-draw,” “Revise,” “Hold,” “Print,” and, during World War II, “Submit to censor”). “They would’ve been shown to Guinness on a wooden stretcher,” Hughes says. “Before they went into storage, somebody removed the stretchers and either laid them flat or rolled them up.”

    “As a younger man, he drew himself into the advert, and he became the zookeeper.”

    Without exception, the canvases Hughes has seen, which were photographed exclusively for his book, are in fine shape and retain their mounting holes for the stretchers and Benson agency tags. “The colors are good,” he says. “They haven’t been in sunlight. They’ll keep for years and years and years.” One collector notes that you can even see the ruby highlights in Gilroy’s paintings of glasses of the stout. “When a pint of Guinness is backlit by a very strong light, the liquid has a deep ruby color,” this collector says. “Gilroy was very careful to include this effect when he painted beer in clear pint glasses.”
    Finally, for Guinness, breweriana, and advertising-art collectors, the Gilroy canvases also offer a peek of what might have been. “I would say about half the images were never commercially used, so they are absolutely brand new, never been seen before,” says Hughes. “They’re going to blow people away.” Of particular interest to collectors in the United States are the Gilroy paintings of classic cars that were created for an aborted, early 1950s campaign to coincide with the brewing of Guinness on Long Island.
    Still, it’s the medium that continues to amaze Hughes. “The idea of the canvases, none of us expected that,” he says. “As a Guinness collector, I’ve always collected their adverts, but they’re prints. They never touched Gilroy, he was never anywhere near the printing process. I had acquired a pencil drawing, which I was delighted with. Then these oils started turning up,” he Naturally, Hughes the Guinness scholar has seen a few oils that Hughes the Guinness collector would very much like to own. “If I had a magic wand? Well, I saw one this weekend that I really liked. It’s one of the animal ones. But it’s an animal that was not used commercially. It’s of a rhinoceros sitting on the ground with the zookeeper’s Guinness between his legs. The rhinoceros is looking at the zookeeper, and the zookeeper’s looking around the corner holding his broom. It’s just a great image, and it’s probably the only one of that advert that exists. So if I could wave my magic wand, I think that’s what I’d get. But I’d need $10,000
    With those kinds of prices and that kind of buzz, you might think that whoever is handling the Guinness advertising account today might be tempted to just re-run the campaign. But Hughes is realistic about the likelihood of that. “Advertising moves on,” he says. “Gilroy’s jokey, humorous, cartoon-like poster design is quintessentially 1930s, ’40s, and ’50s. It is a bit quaint, maybe even a little juvenile for today’s audiences. But it’s still amusing. The other day I showed the draft of my book to my mother, who’s 84. She sat in the kitchen, just giggling at the pictures.”
    That sums up Gilroy to Hughes; not that it’s only appealing to people in their 80s, but that his work is ultimately about making people happy, which is why his advertising images connected so honestly with viewers. “Gilroy had a tremendous sense of humor,” Hughes says. “He always saw the funny side of things. He was apparently a chap who, if you were feeling a little down and out, you’d spend a couple of hours with him and he’d just lift your spirits.” You know, in much the same way as a lot of us feel after a nice pint of Guinness.
  • Out of stock
    Beautiful print of three all time great National Hunt Horses : Arkle,Red Rum and Desert Orchid by the artist SL Crawford 60cmx 85cm   Lucan Co Dublin
  • Out of stock
    You'll Never Beat the Irish -Republic of Ireland Autographed Squad Photo circa 1994 en route to the World Cup in USA. Artane   Dublin   70cm x 56cm
    Back in 1986, with Northern Ireland celebrating a second consecutive World Cup qualification, the Republic was the poor relative, in debt, in decline, and with a lot of empty seats and coffers to fill. Step forward Jack Charlton, the nation’s first-ever foreign manager. As Niall Quinn says, “he was big, he was blunt, he was English.” Despite that, Charlton knew he would be accepted very quickly by his new congregation after walking through Dublin’s main thoroughfare in O’Connell Street. “The Irish people are very close in character to the Geordie,” Charlton said. “They are very welcoming to strangers, they’re not false, they like a pint and a laugh and a party.” So began a decade long celebration that lifted the Boys in Green to the top eight teams in the world for one brief but beautiful moment. Charlton had beaten late entrant Bob Paisley, a multiple trophy winner, to the FAI hot seat, and his introduction to the gathered press was a million miles away from the carefully staged managed productions of the modern day. In fact, it almost turned into an impromptu David Haye and Tony Bellew pre-match fight when Charlton challenged hardened journalist and ex-international Eamon Dunphy’s line of questioning. That relationship turned increasingly sour as time went by.

    ‘No nice stuff’

    Shamrock midfielder Pat Byrne recounted to the Irish Times just how unwavering the new manager was about tactics: “He made it very clear that first time on the training ground that ‘we are not going to have any nice stuff here. “It’s going to be very straight; we’re going to play it this way: we’re going to get the ball, we’re going to put it over the full-backs’ head and we’re going to have runners in behind. “We’re going to close everything up and we’re going to turn the whole backline; as soon as they’re turned, we’re on our way.” This was the blueprint – or greenprint – of the Irish national team for the next decade. Former players like Johnny Giles thought this indicated a lack of trust in the ability of players. Charlton saw it as pragmatic. His idea was to keep information and instruction simple.
    There were some aesthetes in the team, most notably an ageing Liam Brady, who were initially unnerved and eventually sidelined by this move away from playing from the back.
    Players such as Brady would send over the free-kicks and corner-kicks that were central to the game plan, while Mick McCarthy could launch a good old long throw into the mixer. Keeper Packie Bonner was told “to kick every ball long, as high as you can into their half of the park.”

    Find Another Irishman

    To make the game work, the new manager needed to find quality players outside of the League of Ireland. “You want me to compete with the best in the World, I’ve got to have the f*****g best in the world. And it’s not here in Ireland that I can find it, I’ve got to go to England to find it.” Players were recruited through notices that were put up around grounds. John Aldridge and Ray Houghton were both gathered from Oxford United. Big Jack’s “Find Another Irishman” policy via the Granny rule was worked to the Mrs Brown bone. After a 1-0 defeat to Wales in his first match in charge, Charlton got to work on qualifying for the 1988 European Championship in West Germany.
    The Republic finished top of their group, ahead of a talented Belgium side who had reached the semi-finals of the ‘86 World Cup. This was Ireland’s first ever appearance at a major championship finals.

    Beating England

    City and town streets were deserted for matches as the tournament got off to the best possible start against England. Nobody does spontaneous parties like the Irish. The winning goal pretty much summed up Eire’s raison d’etre, as described by UEFA: “Kevin Moran took a free-kick and hit it long, Ireland’s main mode of attack. “The ball fell to Tony Galvin, who hooked in a cross that Kenny Sansom inadvertently ballooned up in the air. John Aldridge headed it to Liverpool FC club-mate Ray Houghton, whose own header looped beyond Peter Shilton.” It was like the international version of Liverpool v Wimbledon in the FA Cup final that year. While England staggered to defeat against the USSR and Holland, the Irish matched both teams stride for stride. Houghton described the 1-1 draw against the Soviets as “one of the best performances I’ve ever been involved in with Jack’s teams”.
    The Netherlands eventually broke Irish hearts with what Charlton described as “the greatest fluke of the year” when Wim Kieft headed in a bizarre 82nd-minute winner that was almost Irish in its conception.

    Italia 90

    Even so, Ireland had arrived with a bang. And if Euro 88 was the start of the journey, Italia 90 was the zenith. The qualification group to make it to their first World Cup was straightforward enough, but their defensive resilience proved decisive as they conceded in only one match – the loss against Spain  – while John Aldridge and self-confessed “fake Irishman” Tony Cascarino did the business at the other end. As the team landed in Sardinia, drawn yet again against England for the first match, Larry Mullen from U2 had produced a cracker of a team song called: “Put ‘em Under Pressure”, that topped the Irish charts for 13 weeks. It wasn’t exactly “World in Motion”, but it was a great soundtrack to the joyous march of Jackie’s army. Their modus operandi was to “inflict our game on other people”.
    Ultimately, the music and their fans were a damn sight more appealing than their football. But who cared if they could stay around a bit longer for another Guinness? The England match was a bit of a non-event on the pitch, as Kevin Sheedy cancelled out Gary Lineker’s early goal, and it was followed by another flat performance in a goalless draw against Egypt. Dunphy was openly critical of Charlton’s long-ball tactics, suggesting that “the style of the play didn’t reflect the quality of the players in the side.” That simmering feud continued as the manager refused to take questions from the writer whom he later described as a “bitter little man”. A 1-1 draw with the Dutch meant both teams had identical records as all three of Holland, England and Ireland progressed, with the Irish benefiting from the drawing of lots to qualify as group runners-up After three drab stalemates, the party only truly began in Genoa against Romania in the last 16 – after another goalless game, Bonner saved Romania’s fifth penalty, leaving David O’Leary to take the decisive kick. RTE commentator George Hamilton uttered the most important seven words Irish fans remember: “A nation holds its breath… We’re there!” How ironic that the hero was O’Leary, another more football-minded defender that was often overlooked by Charlton. O’Leary recalled: “There were about 20,000 brilliant Irish supporters behind the goal. They were so still and the eruption of green afterwards when the ball hit the net was absolutely amazing. It’s a fantastic memory.”

    Meeting the Pope

    Things were about to get more surreal as Charlton had promised an audience with the Pope should his team make it to the last eight. Perhaps Pope John Paul II, a goalkeeper in his youth, sought out Bonner about goal-line interventions rather than divine ones, but Ireland’s quarter-final against Italy in Rome was not tinged with any luck for the Celtic keeper, who could only parry Roberto Donadoni’s shot into the path of Golden Boot winner Toto Schillaci. It was a gallant defeat. Skipper Andy Townsend recalled: “As we are all gathering up our bags, Jack turned round to Packie and said: ‘By the way, the f****** Pope would have saved that!’ Ireland’s propensity to draw a large proportion of games (30 out of 93 under Charlton) cost them dearly in the 1992 Euro qualifying group as only eight teams could qualify for Sweden. They finished behind Graham Taylor’s stodgy England team, despite drawing home and away against them. However, the Republic were reaching a new peak, with a young Roy Keane and Denis Irwin introduced to the team. “The worst thing about missing out on Euro 92 was that Denmark won it. It should have been Ireland.” recalled a frustrated manager.

    USA 94

    In his final match as manager of Northern Ireland, Billy Bingham had the chance to prevent the South reaching the Stateside World Cup in ‘94. Bingham inflamed the occasion by branding their players “a bunch of mercenaries”, declaring his intention to “stuff the Republic”. So hostile was the atmosphere that Pompey midfielder Alan McLoughlin later declared that the “safest place to be was on the pitch”. The match finished 1-1 which was enough for the Green Army to secure a front row seat for Diana Ross’s open-goal miss. Charlton confronted Bingham immediately after the match and said: “Up yours too” – although he later apologised. In the USA, the party started early in New York as Italy were beaten in the Big Apple by a Houghton strike. Patrick Barclay summed it up best in The Observer: “Ireland’s blanket defence rendered vain all the creative endeavours of Roberto Baggio, who adorned this marvellous occasion but was not allowed to influence it because for 90 mins Jack Charlton’s sweat-soaked soldiers stayed about as close as ranks can get.” Unfortunately, Ireland’s performances tailed off dramatically for the remainder of the tournament. Such draining tactics were hard to administer in the humidity of Orlando, and the manager was banned from the touchline for venting his fury at officials over the lack of water for his troops against Mexico. After squeezing through the group following a goalless draw with Norway, the Green bus ran out of fuel against the Dutch in the last 16.

    Beginning of the end

    The mid-90s were the beginning of the end for JC’s JCB formation. The Irish finished second in Euro 96 qualifying, just pipping Northern Ireland for a play-off place. Lying in wait, yet again, were their old adversaries, Holland. While the Dutch were winning their last three qualifiers without conceding a goal, the Republic had stumbled through their last five matches, drawing in Liechtenstein and losing 3-1 home and away to Austria and 3-0 to group winners Portugal Anfield was the “neutral” venue for the play-off and the stadium was the backdrop to a pretty decent cover version of Fields of Athenry that evening. Unfortunately, injuries to crucial players like Roy Keane and Steve Staunton stymied the tactics as Charlton packed the midfield with defenders. It didn’t work. The Dutch were comfortable 2-0 winners as a teenage Patrick Kluivert exposed the limitations of the press and punt tactics. The headline in the Irish Times was Ninety Minutes Chasing Shadows. “In my heart of hearts, I knew I’d wrung as much as I could out of the squad I’d got – that some of my older players had given me all they had to give,” Charlton said. Big Jack’s signing-off got the send-off it deserved with rousing renditions of You’ll Never Walk Alone. Ultimately, Charlton, who was made an honorary Irishman, had good memories and very few regrets: “I can’t remember losing with Ireland. All I can recall are victories, celebrations and getting the right results against all the odds.” It is sometimes opined in retrospect that the Republic could have done better with the quality of players at their disposal. They only won one of nine World Cup matches, scoring just four goals. After USA’ 94, Dunphy said: “The minority who know their football well enough to distinguish between fact and fantasy have long since decided that even though the show is great, the football of the Charlton era has been, too often, lousy.” But would liberation have taken away the organisational pragmatism that was central to the Green Wall being breached just 41 times in 93 games? After all, this was a team that also beat Brazil at home and Germany in Hannover. Niall Quinn said: “We were happy as we were – beautiful, skilled losers.” Big Jack made them coarse but clinical winners on the pitch and a lot happier off it. 11 of Jack Charlton’s best quotes: ‘Can we go now please? I’d like a beer’  
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