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There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.This is a great photo taken during the legendary celebrations which took place after that epic victory .Taken around a piano in the famous Ted's Bar & Nightclub in O'Connell St Limerick,it features Greg Barrett on the keyboard while Brendan Foley(father of the late, much lamented Anthony ),Colm Tucker & Tony Ward join in the sing song. 30cm x 39cm Limerick City There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
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Vintage J.J.Corry's Finest Matured Irish Whiskey Framed Advert 27cm x 35cm Corofin Co Clare
Kilrush,Co Clare was synonymous in the 1800s with a renowned whiskey bonder called J.J. Corry. J.J. was an innovator and a man before his time. His little shop at 63 Henry St. Kilrush was a key part of the local community and the only place where you could buy J.J.'s pride whiskey, "Corry's Special Malt." It was available by the glass for 3 pennies or by the jar.
J.J Corry : A Man Before His Time
J.J. was a true entrepreneur and innovator, born on a farm close to our brand home. Because he was not the first born son he was forced to make this own way in the world. We know that he dabbled in auctioneering before he set up his shop in 1890. Once he acquired the premises, and, after marrying the girl from the pub next door, he immediately set about developing his own brand. The town of Kilrush was a busy international port in the 1890s and J.J. would have purchased goods from all over the world directly from the ships’ Captains fresh from their travels. He sold tea from India, Rum from the Caribbean, Wine from France and Port from Portugal in addition to musical instruments, guns, ammunition and bicycles. As well as a pillar of the community, J.J. was also a true renaissance man and an early adopter of technology. As the social secretary of the town cycling club he even went as far as inventing his own bicycle, ‘The Gael’, after which we named our first whiskey. Most of all, J.J. was known for his hospitality and of course, his whiskey.
What is Irish Whiskey Bonding?
There was a time when every town in Ireland had its own particular flavour of whiskey. The Golden Age of Irish Whiskey (the late 19th century) saw hundreds of distilleries operating on the Island of Ireland. Most did not have their own brands of whiskey at that time, rather the distilleries simply made their whiskey and sold it wholesale to the Bonders. Bonders would have been jacks of all trades, the publicans, grocers, mercantile owners. They would travel to their local distillery with the empty barrels they’d have from their pub trade, fill them up with new make spirit and then cart them home and store them for ageing and blending. This business model was extremely accessible as there was no expense in building or running a distillery, which meant that there were Whiskey Bonders in every town across Ireland. Because so much of whiskey's flavour comes from the barrel in which it is aged in and from the climate where that barrel is stored, this meant that there was huge variety of regional flavours within Irish Whiskey. The Irish Whiskey industry collapsed in the early 1900's and with it came the closure of all but 4 distilleries in Ireland. Those distilleries since bought by multinational organisations have made almost all the Irish Whiskey produced ever since. They created individual whiskey brands and turned off the tap to Grocers thereby shutting down the practice of Whiskey Bonding.
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Vintage print of the legendary Jameson Bow St distillery in the heart of Dublin. 27cm x 34cm Bray Co Wicklow John Jameson was originally a lawyer from Alloa in Scotland before he founded his eponymous distillery in Dublin in 1780.Prevoius to this he had made the wise move of marrying Margaret Haig (1753–1815) in 1768,one of the simple reasons being Margaret was the eldest daughter of John Haig, the famous whisky distiller in Scotland. John and Margaret had eight sons and eight daughters, a family of 16 children. Portraits of the couple by Sir Henry Raeburn are on display in the National Gallery of Ireland. John Jameson joined the Convivial Lodge No. 202, of the Dublin Freemasons on the 24th June 1774 and in 1780, Irish whiskey distillation began at Bow Street. In 1805, he was joined by his son John Jameson II who took over the family business that year and for the next 41 years, John Jameson II built up the business before handing over to his son John Jameson the 3rd in 1851. In 1901, the Company was formally incorporated as John Jameson and Son Ltd. Four of John Jameson’s sons followed his footsteps in distilling in Ireland, John Jameson II (1773 – 1851) at Bow Street, William and James Jameson at Marrowbone Lane in Dublin (where they partnered their Stein relations, calling their business Jameson and Stein, before settling on William Jameson & Co.). The fourth of Jameson's sons, Andrew, who had a small distillery at Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford, was the grandfather of Guglielmo Marconi, inventor of wireless telegraphy. Marconi’s mother was Annie Jameson, Andrew’s daughter. John Jameson’s eldest son, Robert took over his father’s legal business in Alloa. The Jamesons became the most important distilling family in Ireland, despite rivalry between the Bow Street and Marrowbone Lane distilleries. By the turn of the 19th century, it was the second largest producer in Ireland and one of the largest in the world, producing 1,000,000 gallons annually. Dublin at the time was the centre of world whiskey production. It was the second most popular spirit in the world after rum and internationally Jameson had by 1805 become the world's number one whiskey. Today, Jameson is the world's third largest single-distillery whiskey. Historical events, for a time, set the company back. The temperance movement in Ireland had an enormous impact domestically but the two key events that affected Jameson were the Irish War of Independence and subsequent trade war with the British which denied Jameson the export markets of the Commonwealth, and shortly thereafter, the introduction of prohibition in the United States. While Scottish brands could easily slip across the Canada–US border, Jameson was excluded from its biggest market for many years. The introduction of column stills by the Scottish blenders in the mid-19th-century enabled increased production that the Irish, still making labour-intensive single pot still whiskey, could not compete with. There was a legal enquiry somewhere in 1908 to deal with the trade definition of whiskey. The Scottish producers won within some jurisdictions, and blends became recognised in the law of that jurisdiction as whiskey. The Irish in general, and Jameson in particular, continued with the traditional pot still production process for many years.In 1966 John Jameson merged with Cork Distillers and John Powers to form the Irish Distillers Group. In 1976, the Dublin whiskey distilleries of Jameson in Bow Street and in John's Lane were closed following the opening of a New Midleton Distillery by Irish Distillers outside Cork. The Midleton Distillery now produces much of the Irish whiskey sold in Ireland under the Jameson, Midleton, Powers, Redbreast, Spot and Paddy labels. The new facility adjoins the Old Midleton Distillery, the original home of the Paddy label, which is now home to the Jameson Experience Visitor Centre and the Irish Whiskey Academy. The Jameson brand was acquired by the French drinks conglomerate Pernod Ricard in 1988, when it bought Irish Distillers. The old Jameson Distillery in Bow Street near Smithfield in Dublin now serves as a museum which offers tours and tastings. The distillery, which is historical in nature and no longer produces whiskey on site, went through a $12.6 million renovation that was concluded in March 2016, and is now a focal part of Ireland's strategy to raise the number of whiskey tourists, which stood at 600,000 in 2017.Bow Street also now has a fully functioning Maturation Warehouse within its walls since the 2016 renovation. It is here that Jameson 18 Bow Street is finished before being bottled at Cask Strength. In 2008, The Local, an Irish pub in Minneapolis, sold 671 cases of Jameson (22 bottles a day),making it the largest server of Jameson's in the world – a title it maintained for four consecutive years.
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Superb vintage poster advertising the famous WW1 era music hall song of 'Its a long long way to Tipperary". 60cm x 45cm London United Kingdom Long Way to Tipperary" (or "It's a Long, Long Way to Tipperary") is a British music hall song first performed in 1912 by Jack Judge, and written by Judge and Harry Williams though authorship of the song has long been disputed. It was recorded in 1914 by Irish tenor John McCormack. It became popular as a marching song among soldiers in the First World War and is remembered as a song of that war. Welcoming signs in the referenced county of Tipperary, Ireland, humorously declare, "You've come a long long way..." in reference to the song.
Authorship
Jack Judge's parents were Irish, and his grandparents came from Tipperary. Judge met Harry Williams (Henry James Williams, 23 September 1873 – 21 February 1924) in Oldbury, Worcestershire at the Malt Shovel public house, where Williams's brother Ben was the licensee. Williams was severely disabled, having fallen down cellar steps as a child and badly broken both legs. He had developed a talent for writing verse and songs, and played the piano and mandolin, often in public. Judge and Williams began a long-term writing partnership that resulted in 32 music hall songs published by Bert Feldman. Many of the songs were composed by Williams and Judge at Williams's home, The Plough Inn (later renamed The Tipperary Inn), in Balsall Common. Because Judge could not read or write music, Williams taught them to Judge by ear. Judge was a popular semi-professional performer in music halls. In January 1912, he was performing at the Grand Theatre in Stalybridge, and accepted a 5-shilling bet that he could compose and sing a new song by the next night. The following evening, 31 January, Judge performed "It's a Long Way to Tipperary" for the first time, and it immediately became a great success. The song was originally written and performed as a sentimental ballad, to be enjoyed by Irish expatriates living in London.Judge sold the rights to the song to Bert Feldman in London, who agreed to publish it and other songs written by Judge with Williams. Feldman published the song as "It's a Long, Long Way to Tipperary" in October 1912, and promoted it as a march.Dispute
Feldman paid royalties to both Judge and Williams, but after Williams' death in 1924, Judge claimed sole credit for writing the song, saying that he had agreed to Williams being co-credited as recompense for a debt that Judge owed. However, Williams' family showed that the tune and most of the lyrics to the song already existed in the form of a manuscript, "It's A Long Way to Connemara", co-written by Williams and Judge back in 1909, and Judge had used this, just changing some words, including changing "Connemara" to "Tipperary" Judge said: "I was the sole composer of 'Tipperary', and all other songs published in our names jointly. They were all 95% my work, as Mr Williams made only slight alterations to the work he wrote down from my singing the compositions. He would write it down on music-lined paper and play it back, then I'd work on the music a little more ... I have sworn affidavits in my possession by Bert Feldman, the late Harry Williams and myself confirming that I am the composer ...". In a 1933 interview, he added: "The words and music of the song were written in the Newmarket Tavern, Corporation Street, Stalybridge on 31st January 1912, during my engagement at the Grand Theatre after a bet had been made that a song could not be written and sung the next evening ... Harry was very good to me and used to assist me financially, and I made a promise to him that if I ever wrote a song and published it, I would put his name on the copies and share the proceeds with him. Not only did I generously fulfil that promise, but I placed his name with mine on many more of my own published contributions. During Mr Williams' lifetime (as far as I know) he never claimed to be the writer of the song ...". Williams's family campaigned in 2012 to have Harry Williams officially re-credited with the song, and shared their archives with the Imperial War Museums. The family estate still receives royalties from the song.Other claims
In 1917, Alice Smyth Burton Jay sued song publishers Chappell & Co. for $100,000, alleging she wrote the tune in 1908 for a song played at the Alaska–Yukon–Pacific Exposition promoting the Washington apple industry. The chorus began "I'm on my way to Yakima". The court appointed Victor Herbert to act as expert advisor and dismissed the suit in 1920, since the authors of "Tipperary" had never been to Seattle and Victor Herbert testified the two songs were not similar enough to suggest plagiarism.Content
The song was originally written as a lament from an Irish worker in London, missing his homeland, before it became a popular soldiers' marching song. One of the most popular hits of the time, the song is atypical in that it is not a warlike song that incites the soldiers to glorious deeds. Popular songs in previous wars (such as the Boer Wars) frequently did this. In the First World War, however, the most popular songs, like this one and "Keep the Home Fires Burning", concentrated on the longing for home.Reception
Feldman persuaded Florrie Forde to perform the song in 1913, but she disliked it and dropped it from her act. However, it became widely known. During the First World War, Daily Mailcorrespondent George Curnock saw the Irish regiment the Connaught Rangers singing this song as they marched through Boulogne on 13 August 1914, and reported it on 18 August 1914. The song was quickly picked up by other units of the British Army. In November 1914, it was recorded by Irish tenor John McCormack, which helped its worldwide popularity. Other popular versions in the USA in 1915 were by the American Quartet, Prince's Orchestra, and Albert Farrington. The popularity of the song among soldiers, despite (or because of) its irreverent and non-military theme, was noted at the time, and was contrasted with the military and patriotic songs favoured by enemy troops. Commentators considered that the song's appeal revealed characteristically British qualities of being cheerful in the face of hardship. The Times suggested that "'Tipperary' may be less dignified, but it, and whatever else our soldiers may choose to sing will be dignified by their bravery, their gay patience, and their long suffering kindness... We would rather have their deeds than all the German songs in the world."Later performances
Early recording star Billy Murray, with the American Quartet, sang "It's A Long Way To Tipperary" as a straightforward march, complete with brass, drums and cymbals, with a quick bar of "Rule, Britannia!" thrown into the instrumental interlude between the first and second verse-chorus combination. The song was featured as one of the songs in the 1951 film On Moonlight Bay, the 1960s stage musical and film Oh! What a Lovely War and the 1970 musical Darling Lili, sung by Julie Andrews. It was also sung by the prisoners of war in Jean Renoir's film La Grande Illusion (1937) and as background music in The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming (1966). It is also the second part (the other two being Hanging on the Old Barbed Wire and Mademoiselle from Armentières) of the regimental march of Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. Mystery Science Theater 3000 used it twice, sung by Crow T. Robot in Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996), then sung again for the final television episode. It is also sung by British soldiers in the film The Travelling Players (1975) directed by Theo Angelopoulos, and by Czechoslovak soldiers in the movie Černí baroni (1992). The song is often cited when documentary footage of the First World War is presented. One example of its use is in the annual television special It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966). Snoopy—who fancies himself as a First World War flying ace—dances to a medley of First World War-era songs played by Schroeder. This song is included, and at that point Snoopy falls into a left-right-left marching pace. Schroeder also played this song in Snoopy, Come Home (1972) at Snoopy's send-off party. Also, Snoopy was seen singing the song out loud in a series of strips about his going to the 1968 Winter Olympics. In another strip, Snoopy is walking so long a distance to Tipperary that he lies down exhausted and notes, "They're right, it is a long way to Tipperary." On a different occasion, Snoopy walks along and begins to sing the song, only to meet a sign that reads, "Tipperary: One Block." In a Sunday strip wherein Snoopy, in his World War I fantasy state, walks into Marcie's home, thinking it a French café, and falls asleep after drinking all her root beer, she rousts him awake by loudly singing the song. It is also featured in For Me and My Gal (1942) starring Judy Garland and Gene Kelly and Gallipoli (1981) starring Mel Gibson. The cast of The Mary Tyler Moore Show march off screen singing the song at the conclusion of the series’ final episode, after news anchor Ted Baxter (played by Ted Knight) had inexplicably recited some of the lyrics on that evening's news broadcast. It was sung by the crew of U-96 in Wolfgang Petersen's 1981 film Das Boot (that particular arrangement was performed by the Red Army Choir). Morale is boosted in the submarine when the German crew sings the song as they begin patrolling in the North Atlantic Ocean. The crew sings it a second time as they cruise toward home port after near disaster. When the hellship SS Lisbon Maru was sinking, the Royal Artillery POWS trapped in the vessel are reported to have sung this song. Survivors of the sinking of HMS Tipperary in the Battle of Jutland (1916) were identified by their rescuers on HMS Sparrowhawk because they were singing "It's a Long Way to Tipperary" in their lifeboat. In Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie (1996), based on the popular cable series Mystery Science Theater 3000, robot character Crow T. Robot sings a version of the song while wearing a World War I British Army helmet, and declaring "We must confound Gerry (the Germans) at every turn!"Lyrics
Up to mighty London Came an Irishman one day. As the streets are paved with gold Sure, everyone was gay, Singing songs of Piccadilly, Strand and Leicester Square, Till Paddy got excited, Then he shouted to them there: Chorus It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go. It's a long way to Tipperary, To the sweetest girl I know! Goodbye, Piccadilly, Farewell, Leicester Square! It's a long long way to Tipperary, But my heart's right there. Paddy wrote a letter To his Irish Molly-O, Saying, "Should you not receive it, Write and let me know!" "If I make mistakes in spelling, Molly, dear," said he, "Remember, it's the pen that's bad, Don't lay the blame on me!" Chorus Molly wrote a neat reply To Irish Paddy-O, Saying "Mike Maloney Wants to marry me, and so Leave the Strand and Piccadilly Or you'll be to blame, For love has fairly drove me silly: Hoping you're the same!" ChorusAn alternative bawdy concluding chorus:That's the wrong way to tickle Mary, That's the wrong way to kiss. Don't you know that over here, lad They like it best like this. Hoo-ray pour les français, Farewell Angleterre. We didn't know how to tickle Mary, But we learnt how over there. -
Magnificent and rare limited edition print of advert promoting Hurling-Irelands national game (By the legendary GAA Journalist Carbery) and Guinness with the legendary Limerick hurler Mick Mackey to the fore in the sketched advertisement.To the left of the image is the hand written note- "Our man Mackey drinks Guinness". 70cm x 55cm Dromcollogher Co Limerick PD Mehigan (aka Carbery) was a singular individual, a prominent figure in the first five decades of the history of the Irish Free State. His interests and achievements are extensive and fascinating. In the summer of 1926, Irish people’s experience of sport was turned on its head. The turning began when PS O’Hegarty, the man who ran the Department of Posts and Telegraphs and who founded an Irish state radio service — 2RN — met Mehigan, then the leading GAA journalist in the country, and made him a proposition. The story of what happened between the two men was later told by Mehigan: “In his blunt, direct way, he (O’Hegarty) slung the question at me: ‘Mehigan, will you help us by giving a running commentary — describe the match as you see it — from the Hogan Stand?’” Mehigan agreed he would, indeed, broadcast a match, with live commentary, on 2RN.That match was the 1926 All-Ireland hurling semi-final, in which Kilkenny beat Galway 6-2 to 5-1.The first volume of the annual proved such a success it was continued until he died in 1965.
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Stunning original oil painting depicting two iconic Limerick landmarks,King Johns Castle & The Treaty Stone.The artists signature is difficult to decipher but this is still an exquisite piece of art. 56cm x 50cm Clarenbridge Co Galway King John's Castle (Irish: Caisleán Luimnigh) is a 13th-century castle located on King's Island in Limerick, Ireland, next to the River Shannon.Although the site dates back to 922 when the Vikings lived on the Island, the castle itself was built on the orders of King John in 1200. One of the best preserved Norman castles in Europe, the walls, towers and fortifications remain today and are visitor attractions. The remains of a Viking settlement were uncovered during archaeological excavations at the site in 1900.The Treaty Stone is the rock that the Treaty of Limerick was signed in 1691, marking the surrender of the city to William of Orange.Limerick is known as the Treaty City, so called after the Treaty of Limerick signed on the 3rd of October 1691 after the war between William III of England (known as William of Orange) and his Father in Law King James II. Limericks role in the successful accession of William of Orange and his wife Mary Stuart, daughter of King James II to the throne of England cannot be understated. The Treaty, according to tradition was signed on a stone in the sight of both armies at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge on the 3rd of October 1691. The stone was for some years resting on the ground opposite its present location, where the old Ennis mail coach left to travel from the Clare end of Thomond Bridge, through Cratloe woods en route to Ennis. The Treaty stone of Limerick has rested on a plinth since 1865, at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge. The pedestal was erected in May 1865 by John Richard Tinsley, mayor of the city.
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Superbly framed portrait of JFK Such was the love and affection for President John F Kennedy in the country of his ancestors, that numerous Irish homes, businesses and pubs displayed photographs, portraits and other memorabilia relating to the Kennedy and Fitzgerald families, who hailed largely from Wexford and Limerick 57cm x 47 cm Dromkeen Co Limerick
55 years ago, President John F. Kennedy visited Ireland, his ancestral home, assuming that his family had mostly come from County Wexford, but new research shows us that JFK had links to many other Irish counties as well.
The President’s family tree, however, indicates that he has the most links to County Limerick, but also has connections to Limerick, Clare, Cork, and Fermanagh as research from Ancestry.com shed light onRussell James, a spokesperson for Ancestry Ireland, commented on how there is a great deal of discussion and research still ongoing about JFK’s roots to Ireland. “President John F. Kennedy’s family history has been a much-discussed topic over the years with his Irish roots being something that was extremely important to him. Traditionally JFK’s heritage has been closely linked with Wexford but we’re delighted to find records on Ancestry which show he had strong links to other counties across Ireland,” James said. “These findings will hopefully allow other counties across Ireland to further celebrate the life of the former American President, on the 55th anniversary of his visit to Ireland.” Limerick, as opposed to Wexford, had the most number of Kennedy’s great-grandparents, with three in total from his mother’s side: Mary Ann Fitzgerald, Michael Hannon, and Thomas Fitzgerald. The Fitzgeralds had come from a small town called Bruff in the eastern part of Limerick, but Hannon had come from Lough Gur. His great-grandfather, Thomas Fitzgerald, emigrated to the United States in the midst of the Irish famine of 1848 and eventually settled in Boston, Massachusetts. His Wexford connection is not as strong, given that only two of his great-grandparents came from the county. They were Patrick Kennedy of Dunganstown and Bridget Murphy from Owenduff. Patrick, when he arrived in the U.S in April 1849, was found to be a minor as shown on his American naturalization papers and had become a citizen three years later. He worked as a cooper in Boston until he died almost 10 years later in 1858. JFK had visited Dunganstown because his relatives had shared the Kennedy name there, but ultimately his roots lie deeper in Limerick through his mother’s side. The rest of his great-grandparents are from all over Ireland, with James Hickey from Newcastle-upon-Fergus, County Clare, Margaret M. Field from Rosscarbery, Cork, and Rosa Anna Cox from Tomregan in Fermanagh. Every one of them, though, had eventually emigrated and settled in Massachusetts. On Wednesday, June 26, 1963, Kennedy had arrived in Ireland, but on the second day, he made the journey to his ancestral home in Wexford, where he spent time with his relatives there and gave speeches in the surrounding area. While there, America’s first Irish Catholic President took a trip to Dunganstown, Wexford, where he met his extended family at the Kennedy homestead. It was there he made a toast to “all those Kennedys who went and all those Kennedys who stayed.” The homestead, now a visitor center, is where his great-grandfather lived and is still maintained by the current-day Kennedy family. This land itself was included in a land survey of Wexford in 1853, which shows that John Kennedy, JFK’s two-times great uncle, occupied the property described as having a ‘house, offices, and land’. -
23cm x 26cm Tulla Co Clare Life in Ireland in 1914 was a very different world . In European terms, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand lit the fuse that plunged the continent into the Great War in August 1914. Women didn’t have the vote and Emily Parkhurst, pioneer of women’s emancipation, was jailed for protesting outside Buckingham Palace, and not for the first time. In Ireland, we still lived under British Rule. Independence was on many people’s minds and life was a struggle. In hurling terms, life and work impacted on training and opportunity. These days, the All-Ireland championship is a sophisticated journey involving coaches, motivators, nutritionists and media appearances. In 1914, it was a different. This was illustrated by Tom McInerney, younger brother of Pat ‘Fowler’ McInerney (1914 medal winner) speaking to Liam Ryan of The Irish Times newspaper on August 28, 1995. Tom spoke of the difficulties his brother encountered before the 1914 final. Apparently, young Pat’s labour was so badly needed on the family farm that his father didn’t want him to play hurling. So, when Pat ‘Fowler’ was called up for All-Ireland pre-match training, he was unable to tell his father. One day after dinner, he left home without telling anyone and joined the team for two weeks collective training. He came home with an All-Ireland medal. The Clare season had begun long before All-Ireland day – October 18, 1914. It began in May of that year with a series of divisional games involving East, South and Mid Clare. These games, the brainchild of Amby Power, were designed to allow the best hurling talent to emerge. And they did, producing much needed young blood, including John Fox, Brendan Considine, Sham Spellissy, Jim Guerin and Fowler McInerney for the senior county side. Clare started with a decisive 7-3 to 4-1 win over a strong Kerry team. Goals were prolific in hurling at this time because of the abundance of first-time ground striking. Clare went on to conquer Limerick, who had earlier beaten Tipperary by 14 points. A delayed Munster final meant that Cork were nominated to represent Munster in the All-Ireland semi-final and they easily overcame the challenge of Galway, but subsequently lost to Clare in the Munster final. In Leinster, an exciting and dashing Laois team became the provincial champions for the first time. Along the way, the Midlanders defeated Wexford, Dublin and All-Ireland champions Kilkenny. Laois were the team who would now meet Clare in the All-Ireland final. On All-Ireland day itself, the Clare team came on to the pitch, accompanied by William Redmond, MP for East Clare. Croke Park was then a smaller venue that had been purchased by the GAA in 1913. The team was greeted by terrific cheering from the estimated attendance of 15,000, who had paid a total of £475 at the gate. Cars were scarce and many people would have travelled to Dublin by train. One of those was Elizabeth Cremins, then an 18-year-old girl from Newmarket-on-Fergus. Speaking me in 1995, when she was then almost 100 years old, she said, “I went to every hurling match, especially when Newmarket were playing. Newmarket and Ennis were great rivals. I knew John Fox, Jim Clancy, Jim Guerin and Rob Doherty. Rob Doherty was very stylish. He used to thrill the crowds when he’d race along the wing. I remember the newspapers describing his dramatic sprints. Newmarket had great hurlers. We went by train from Ballycar to Dublin. Many of us had never been on a train before. Mike, my brother, was with me and I remember him singing The Croppy Boy on the journey. We got out at Kingsbridge, as it was then and we got on the first tram and got off when it stopped. We thought we were in Jones’ Road (Croke Park). In the Clare dressing room before the throw in, then as now, switches were made. Management decided to play Jim Guerin instead of the selected Paddy McDermott. Clare got off to a terrific start building up an interval lead of 10 points, 3-1 to Nil with a goal from Jim Clancy after seven minutes and two from Jim Guerin. Laois, who were never let play with their usual dash, fought back with an early second half goal, but with the Clare backs playing soundly, the forwards went on to score two more goals to leave Clare comfortable winners by 5-1 to 1-0 against a disappointing Laois team. Clare’s win was reported in the following day’s Irish Independent. “They excelled in both science and dash. Not only in attack did they demonstrate marked superiority, but their backs gave a grand display, which was generally admired. The victorious Clare team collected the Great Southern Challenge Cup and the aftermath celebrations took place in Wynne’s Hotel, Lower Abbey Street. They returned home the following day to a hero’s welcome.” To day, the All-Ireland final is an extraordinary spectacle, with attendances of over 82,000 and transmitted to millions of people all over the world. In 1914, the attendance was smaller and word of the Clare win filtered slowly back to the county. But, the honour, pride and sense of achievement were exactly the same. The Team. The Clare senior team of 1914 sported a white jersey with green sash, while Laois togged in amber jerseys with black bars. The Clare senior team was: Pat ‘Fowler’ McInerney (O’Callaghan’s. Mills); John Shalloo (O’Callaghan’s Mills); William ‘Dodger’ Considine (Ennis Dalcassians); Amby Power (Quin), captain; John Fox (Newmarket); Rob Doherty (Newmarket); Joe Power (Quin); Tom McGrath (O’Callaghan’s Mills Mills); Edward ‘Ned’ Grace (O’Callaghan’s Mills); Michael Flanagan (Quin); Brendan Considine (Ennis Dalcassians); Martin ‘Handsome’ Moloney (Ennis Dalcassians); James ‘Sham’ Spellissy (Ennis Dalcassians); Jim Guerin (Newmarket); Jim ‘Bawn’ Clancy (Newmarket). Subs: John ‘Landger’ Rodgers (Tulla); Patrick ‘Bucky’ Moloney (Killanena) both used. Also Paddy Kenny (Ennis Dalcassians) and F. Brady played in the game against Limerick. Paddy McDermott (Whitegate) and Patrick ‘Bucky’ Moloney played in the Munster final. Trainer: Jim O’Hehir. Referee: Mr. John Lawlor (Kilkenny) Juniors make it a double CLARE was the first county to win the senior and junior double in 1914. In the junior championship, the Banner County defeated Kerry, Tipperary, Cork and Laois in the final by 6-5 to 1-1. The final wasn’t played until March 1915. Match reports in the newspapers of the day were short and erratic. Only four of Clare’s six goals were accounted for. Two are credited to Dan Minogue and the other two to Ted Lucid. The junior team that defeated Laois at Croke Park was: – Dan Minogue (captain), James Marrinan, Paddy Gordon, Edward (Ted) Lucid, Jack Spellissy, Michael J. Baker, Tommy Daly (goal), Paddy Quinn, Jim Quinn, Michael Bolton, Dan Flannery, Pat Hannon, Atty Gleeson, Simon Minogue, Dan Crowe. Others to play in the championship included John Cody and Charlie Stewart from Ogonnelloe, Freddie Garrihy, Johnny ‘Joker’ Coote, Paddy Connell, P. Rodgers and others. It is important to note that the Clare junior team that defeated Kerry by 6-1 to 1-1 on 21st June 1914 at the Ennis show grounds bore little resemblance to the team that finally won the championship.
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Superb print depicting the spectacular and historic Rock of Cashel in the heart of Co Tipperary. 25cm x 35cm Killenaule Co Tipperary The Rock of Cashel , also known as Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock, is a historic site located at Cashel, County Tipperary, Ireland
History
According to local legends, the Rock of Cashel originated in the Devil's Bit, a mountain 20 miles (30 km) north of Cashel when St. Patrick banished Satan from a cave, resulting in the Rock's landing in Cashel.[1] Cashel is reputed to be the site of the conversion of the King of Munster by St. Patrick in the 5th century. The Rock of Cashel was the traditional seat of the kings of Munster for several hundred years prior to the Norman invasion. In 1101, the King of Munster, Muirchertach Ua Briain, donated his fortress on the Rock to the Church. The picturesque complex has a character of its own and is one of the most remarkable collections of Celtic art and medieval architecture to be found anywhere in Europe.Few remnants of the early structures survive; the majority of buildings on the current site date from the 12th and 13th centuries.Buildings on the Rock
The oldest and tallest of the buildings is the well preserved round tower (28 metres, or 90 feet), dating from c.1100. Its entrance is 12 feet (3.7 m) from the ground, necessitated by a shallow foundation (about 3 feet) typical of round towers. The tower was built using the dry stone method. Modern conservationists have filled in some of the tower with mortar for safety reasons. Cormac's Chapel, the chapel of King Cormac Mac Carthaigh, was begun in 1127 and consecrated in 1134. It is a sophisticated structure, with vaulted ceilings and wide arches, drawing on contemporary European architecture and infusing unique native elements. The Irish Abbot of Regensburg, Dirmicius of Regensburg, sent two of his carpenters to help in the work and the twin towers on either side of the junction of the nave and chancel are strongly suggestive of their Germanic influence, as this feature is otherwise unknown in Ireland. Other notable features of the building include interior and exterior arcading, a barrel-vaulted roof, a carved tympanum over both doorways, the magnificent north doorway and chancel arch and the oldest stairs in Ireland. It contains one of the best-preserved Irish frescoes from this time period. The Chapel was constructed primarily of sandstone which has become waterlogged over the centuries, significantly damaging the interior frescoes. Restoration and preservation required the chapel be completely enclosed in a rain-proof structure with interior dehumidifiers to dry out the stone. It is now open for limited tours to the public. The Cathedral, built between 1235 and 1270, is an aisleless building of cruciform plan, having a central tower and terminating westwards in a massive residential castle. The Hall of the Vicars Choral was built in the 15th century. The vicars choral were laymen (sometimes minor canons) appointed to assist in chanting the cathedral services. At Cashel, there were originally eight vicars choral with their own seal. This was later reduced to five honorary vicars choral who appointed singing-men as their deputies, a practice which continued until 1836. The restoration of the Hall was undertaken by the Office of Public Works as a project in connection with the European Architectural Heritage Year, 1975. Through it visitors now enter the site. In 1647, during the Irish Confederate Wars, Cashel was sacked by English Parliamentarian troops under Murrough O'Brien, 1st Earl of Inchiquin. The Irish Confederate troops there were massacred, as were the Catholic clergy, including Theobald Stapleton. Inchiquin's troops looted or destroyed many important religious artefacts. In 1749, the main cathedral roof was removed by Arthur Price, the Anglican Archbishop of Cashel.] Today, what remains of the Rock of Cashel has become a tourist attraction. Price's decision to remove the roof on what had been called the jewel among Irish church buildings was criticised before and since. Queen Elizabeth II visited the Rock of Cashel during her 2011 visit to Ireland. The entire plateau on which the buildings and graveyard lie is walled. In the grounds around the buildings an extensive graveyard includes a number of high crosses. Scully's Cross, one of the largest and most famous high crosses here, originally constructed in 1867 to commemorate the Scully family, was destroyed in 1976 when lightning struck a metal rod that ran the length of the cross. The remains of the top of the cross now lie at the base of the cross adjacent to the rock wall.Burials
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Vintage wooden clock from 1995 commissioned to mark Clare's historic All Ireland win in 1995.cm x cm Scarriff Co ClareViewed from a distance of two decades, maybe the most remarkable thing about the hurling summer of 1995 is just how unpromising it was roundly agreed to be at the get-go. The previous year had been airily dismissed as something of a freak – never more freakish than in that harum-scarum end to the All-Ireland final when Offaly overturned Limerick with a quickfire 2-5 in the closing minutes.Put to the pin of their collars, most judges shrugged and presumed the Liam MacCarthy would find his way back around to the blue-bloods in the end – probably to Kilkenny who had just beaten Clare in the National League final, maybe to Tipperary if they got their act together. If there was going to be a yarn, Limerick might provide it. But nobody had an inkling of what was around the corner. Or if they did, they weren’t shouting about it. Nobody was shouting about very much of anything. Hurling was what it was – guarded like the family jewels in certain parts of the land, barely amounting to a rumour in others. Tipp, Kilkenny and Cork had split five of the previous six All-Irelands between them and in a given year, you could just about half-rely on Offaly or Galway to keep them honest. For everyone else, the door looked shut. For all the sweet words and paeans that followed the game around, the championship was reduced each year to four or five games. This was pre-qualifiers, pre-back door of any kind. Galway walked into the All-Ireland semi-final each year and Antrim did the same before providing whoever they met with more or less a bye into the final. The Munster championship had its adherents but they weren’t all just as committed as they let on – when Clare met Cork in Thurles in June 1995, they did so in front of just 14,101 paying guests. The game needed shaking up. If not everyone admitted as much at the time, it didn’t escape the notice of the association’s then general director Liam Mulvihill. In his report to Congress earlier that year, he had scratched an itch that had been bugging him for most of the previous 12 months. The 1994 football championship had been the first to benefit from bringing on a title sponsor in Bank of Ireland and though an equivalent offer had been on the table for the hurling championship, Central Council pushed the plate away. Though the name of the potential sponsor wasn’t explicitly made public, everyone knew it was Guinness. More to the point, everyone knew why Central Council wouldn’t bite. As Mulvihill himself noted in his report to Congress, the offer was declined on the basis that “Central Council did not want an alcoholic drinks company associated with a major GAA competition”. As it turned out, Central Council had been deadlocked on the issue and it was the casting vote of then president Peter Quinn that put the kibosh on a deal with Guinness. Mulvihill’s disappointment was far from hidden, since he saw the wider damage caused by turning up the GAA nose at Guinness’s advances. “The unfortunate aspect of the situation,” he wrote, “is that hurling needs support on the promotion of the game much more than football.” Though it took the point of a bayonet to make them go for it, the GAA submitted in the end and on the day after the league final, a three-year partnership with Guinness was announced. The deal would be worth £1 million a year, with half going to the sport and half going to the competition in the shape of marketing. That last bit was key. Guinness came up with a marketing campaign that fairly scorched across the general consciousness. Billboards screeched out slogans that feel almost corny at this remove but made a huge impact at the same time . This man can level whole counties in one second flat. This man can reach speeds of 100mph. This man can break hearts at 70 yards Of course, all the marketing in the world can only do so much. Without a story to go alongside, the Guinness campaign might be forgotten now – or worse, remembered as an overblown blast of hot air dreamed up in some modish ad agency above in Dublin. Instead, Clare came along and changed everything. In the spring of 1995, Clare were very easy to stereotype. These were the days when the league wrapped around Christmas and in the muck and the cold and the drudgery, Clare had a fierceness to them that took advantage of any opposition that fancied a handy afternoon with the summer well off in the distance. A pain in the neck if you met them on a going day in the league but not to be relied upon on the biggest days. They had a recent, ill-starred record in Munster finals to bear that out. Heavy beatings from Tipp and Limerick in 1993 and ’94 were bad enough on their own; piled on decades of hurt going all the way back to their last title in 1932, they were toxic. On the day before the league final, new manager Ger Loughnane outlined what the coming summer would mean to them. “I’d swap everything for a Munster title. The whole lot. My whole hurling life. These fellas today, they have the chance. They can get out there and realise that this is what it is all about, that this is what you play hurling for. They can build on that and win their Munster title. That means so much to us all. They won’t have to look back and regret.” When Clare promptly lost 2-12 to 0-9 to Kilkenny in that league final, you didn’t have many takers for Loughnane’s assertion that this could be the group to turn everything around. Loughnane had been involved in 12 Munster finals as a player and selector at various levels down the years and he’d lost them all. Big talk was fine and dandy but what was there to believe in? Come the Munster championship, Clare were quietly but firmly dismissed by all and sundry. Cashman’s bookies in Cork priced their championship opener thus: Cork 2/5, Clare 9/4. A bar in Ennis had sent the Clare squad a cheque for £250 so they could have a pre-championship drink together. Anthony Daly took it instead and slapped it down on Clare to win the Munster championship at odds of 7/1. Anyone with half an interest in the game knows the rest. Or at least knows bits and pieces of it. That summer was a blazing one, the hottest for decades, and in the mind’s eye Clare’s summer is a jigsaw of sun-scorched fables and legends. Seanie McMahon and his broken collarbone, playing out the last 15 minutes against Cork at corner-forward. Ollie Baker’s bundled goal to win that game in injury-time. Limerick swept aside in the second half of the Munster final. Bonfires across the county on the Monday night. Galway put to the sword in the All-Ireland semi-final. Offaly just squeezed out in the final. Eamonn Taaffe’s goal, whipped to the net with his only touch of the sliotar all summer. Daly’s 65, Johnny Pilkington’s reply just flicking the post and missing. A first Clare All-Ireland senior title since 1914. It was all just so unlikely. After the Cork game, the cars heading home for Clare were stuck in traffic. A group of Cork teenagers stood at the side of the road as they passed, chanting Tipp, Tipp, Tipp – presuming Clare would meet and be beaten by them next day out. The notion that this was the beginning of a golden era, or that these Claremen were about to popularise the sport as never before, would still have felt ludicrous And yet here they were, All-Ireland champions in a year when hurling caught the wider imagination in a way it rarely had up to that point. The Guinness campaign had made its mark and allied to Clare’s rise, the sport was grabbing people again. Not before time. “The game had gone stale,” wrote Jimmy Barry-Murphy in The Irish Times in the run-up to the final. “This All-Ireland was one that game needed very badly. Interest was waning and this was reflected in the attendances at finals. “There was no comparison to football where the arrival of the Ulster counties as major powers generated enormous interest and a new awareness of the game. Clare have had many setbacks but they have kept battling and are now being rewarded. They have done hurling a great service.” The depth and breadth of that service became more and more apparent as the decade wore on. Attendances at the hurling championship matches ballooned. From an aggregate total of 289,281 in 1994, they rose to 543,335 in 1999. There were plenty of factors, of course – more counties with more hope, more matches with the introduction of the back-door, a growing economy, those Guinness ads. But it was Clare’s summer of 1995 that sparked it all. They weren’t a pebble in a pond that caused a few ripples. They were a boulder that landed from the clear blue sky and left a crater on the landscape. Everything changed after ’95. Not forever, just for a while. But for long enough for the game to stretch itself and grab hold of imaginations outside the usual places of worship. On the Monday night they brought Liam MacCarthy home, one of the towns that got a good rattle was Newmarket-On-Fergus. In the bedlam, the home club put up a stage and stuck any living Newmarket man who ever put on a Clare jersey up there as the backdrop while Daly and Loughnane grabbed the mic out front. One unusual face cloistered at the back of the stage was then Wexford manager Liam Griffin. Of the multitude of stories excavated by Denis Walsh for his towering book Hurling: The Revolution Years, maybe that night in Newmarket captured the giddiness of the time the best. Griffin’s father was from Clare and he’d lived there for a time in his early 20s, long enough to play club hurling and get called up to the Clare under-21s. Thus were his bona fides established for an appearance – however reluctant – up on-stage. Griffin had been in charge of Wexford for a year at that point and their summer had ended with a limp exit against Offaly away back in June. By the skin of his teeth, Griffin had survived an attempted county board putsch in the meantime and was almost certainly the only man alive who thought that the riches showering down upon Clare heads could be Wexford’s 12 months later. “Clare came and I thought, ‘This is fantastic,’” Griffin told Walsh. “I thought, ‘Jesus, the team I have are as good as these,’ and I went through them man for man. There’s no way we’re not as good as these guys. Then Clare won the All-Ireland and I went straight to Clare the following morning because I wanted to see the homecoming and now I understand why. I wanted to drive it into my own psyche.” As the speeches finished and the stage began to clear, Loughnane turned and caught Griffin’s eye. “It could be you next year,” he said. Whether he meant it or not, Griffin’s mind was made up already. He drove home convinced that Wexford could reach out and grab some of that for themselves. The next day he rang around and organised training, 51-and-a-half weeks shy of the 1996 All-Ireland final. In a world of endless trees and branches and roots, it’s obviously simplistic to say that Clare’s All-Ireland begat Wexford’s which begat all the rest of it. But what is inarguable is this – in that sun-drenched summer of 1995, everything felt possible.
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Vintage distressed John Jameson Whiskey Advert featuring the iconic Barrel Man logo. 27cm x 54cm Bray Co Wicklow John Jameson was originally a lawyer from Alloa in Scotland before he founded his eponymous distillery in Dublin in 1780.Prevoius to this he had made the wise move of marrying Margaret Haig (1753–1815) in 1768,one of the simple reasons being Margaret was the eldest daughter of John Haig, the famous whisky distiller in Scotland. John and Margaret had eight sons and eight daughters, a family of 16 children. Portraits of the couple by Sir Henry Raeburn are on display in the National Gallery of Ireland. John Jameson joined the Convivial Lodge No. 202, of the Dublin Freemasons on the 24th June 1774 and in 1780, Irish whiskey distillation began at Bow Street. In 1805, he was joined by his son John Jameson II who took over the family business that year and for the next 41 years, John Jameson II built up the business before handing over to his son John Jameson the 3rd in 1851. In 1901, the Company was formally incorporated as John Jameson and Son Ltd. Four of John Jameson’s sons followed his footsteps in distilling in Ireland, John Jameson II (1773 – 1851) at Bow Street, William and James Jameson at Marrowbone Lane in Dublin (where they partnered their Stein relations, calling their business Jameson and Stein, before settling on William Jameson & Co.). The fourth of Jameson's sons, Andrew, who had a small distillery at Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford, was the grandfather of Guglielmo Marconi, inventor of wireless telegraphy. Marconi’s mother was Annie Jameson, Andrew’s daughter. John Jameson’s eldest son, Robert took over his father’s legal business in Alloa. The Jamesons became the most important distilling family in Ireland, despite rivalry between the Bow Street and Marrowbone Lane distilleries. By the turn of the 19th century, it was the second largest producer in Ireland and one of the largest in the world, producing 1,000,000 gallons annually. Dublin at the time was the centre of world whiskey production. It was the second most popular spirit in the world after rum and internationally Jameson had by 1805 become the world's number one whiskey. Today, Jameson is the world's third largest single-distillery whiskey. Historical events, for a time, set the company back. The temperance movement in Ireland had an enormous impact domestically but the two key events that affected Jameson were the Irish War of Independence and subsequent trade war with the British which denied Jameson the export markets of the Commonwealth, and shortly thereafter, the introduction of prohibition in the United States. While Scottish brands could easily slip across the Canada–US border, Jameson was excluded from its biggest market for many years. The introduction of column stills by the Scottish blenders in the mid-19th-century enabled increased production that the Irish, still making labour-intensive single pot still whiskey, could not compete with. There was a legal enquiry somewhere in 1908 to deal with the trade definition of whiskey. The Scottish producers won within some jurisdictions, and blends became recognised in the law of that jurisdiction as whiskey. The Irish in general, and Jameson in particular, continued with the traditional pot still production process for many years.In 1966 John Jameson merged with Cork Distillers and John Powers to form the Irish Distillers Group. In 1976, the Dublin whiskey distilleries of Jameson in Bow Street and in John's Lane were closed following the opening of a New Midleton Distillery by Irish Distillers outside Cork. The Midleton Distillery now produces much of the Irish whiskey sold in Ireland under the Jameson, Midleton, Powers, Redbreast, Spot and Paddy labels. The new facility adjoins the Old Midleton Distillery, the original home of the Paddy label, which is now home to the Jameson Experience Visitor Centre and the Irish Whiskey Academy. The Jameson brand was acquired by the French drinks conglomerate Pernod Ricard in 1988, when it bought Irish Distillers. The old Jameson Distillery in Bow Street near Smithfield in Dublin now serves as a museum which offers tours and tastings. The distillery, which is historical in nature and no longer produces whiskey on site, went through a $12.6 million renovation that was concluded in March 2016, and is now a focal part of Ireland's strategy to raise the number of whiskey tourists, which stood at 600,000 in 2017.Bow Street also now has a fully functioning Maturation Warehouse within its walls since the 2016 renovation. It is here that Jameson 18 Bow Street is finished before being bottled at Cask Strength. In 2008, The Local, an Irish pub in Minneapolis, sold 671 cases of Jameson (22 bottles a day),making it the largest server of Jameson's in the world – a title it maintained for four consecutive years.
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Original Lawrence postcard of O'Connell Bridge 18cm x 23cme Lawrence Collection is the single most significant collection in the early development of postcards in Ireland. Named after William Lawrence who opened a photographic studio and fancy goods shop in Sackville Street (now O'Connell Street) in 1865, the venture was well-timed to capitalise on the popularity of the postcard. The Collection eventually comprised 40,000 negatives. Robert French (1841-1917) was employed as chief photographer and he along with others travelled the length of the country over a period of more than 20 years. Killarney was the principal attraction in Kerry and all the beauty spots are well represented. However, the photographs of towns and villages are of most historical interest. In many cases they are the only visual records for the turn of the 19th century. Local people were often included in street scenes and it is clear from their fascination with the process that photography was still very much a novelty.While Lawrence's business flourished for nearly fifty years, it declined in the second decade of the 20th century due to the more widespread availability of photographs and the advent of the "Brownie" camera.
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