Kilmainham Tales

Today, 18 September 2021, we held a very small ceremony at the grave of Anne Devlin on the 170th anniversary of her death in 1851, and to remember her and her contribution to the cause of Irish freedom.

This is the sixteenth consecutive year we have held such an event. But the last two years have been very different, due in no small part to the restrictions of imposed by Covid-19. Unable to hold the commemoration tomorrow, we decided instead to lay a some flowers on the grave today and publish some thoughts online instead of our usual practice.

But, to our surprise, several other people also turned up to pay their respects to this brave lady, so we held a brief service.

Our guest speaker was historian and author Gerry Shannon who spoke first, followed by Mícheál Ó Doibhilín, the organiser and initiator of this Cuimhní Anne Devlin remembrance. Then Gerry and Mícheál laid flowers on Anne's grave and some photographs were taken - a small selection of which are reproduced here.

We are so grateful to all who turned up and contributed to a wonderful occasion.

Speaking first, Gerry Shannon said:

"Today, as in many times passed, on the 170th anniversary of her passing, we gather to remember the extraordinary life of Anne Devlin, and her devotion and bravery to the cause of freedom of her country.

Her efforts, and those of her contemporaries, for the cause of Irish freedom continue to inspire us and will always be worthy of celebration and remembrance – even in a limited gathering such as this.

The high republican idealism espoused by the Society of United Irishmen spoke of an Ireland which foresaw an “equal representation of all the people" in a "national government” and ultimately, a fair and just society for all who called Ireland their home.

In remembering Anne, we also pay tribute to those who took part in the United Irishmen’s brave, if doomed, insurrectionary efforts in both 1798 and 1803, the latter of course led by Robert Emmet himself.

Make no mistake, these attempts at the overthrow of British rule by the United Irishmen were in response to the unequal society and divided country the organisation was formed in.

The events of 1798 and 1803 took place within a

world shaped by the machinations of empires and the upheaval of revolutions in France and America.

As we look in hope to possibly the closing months of the current pandemic, which has affected every strata of our society and impacted our entire way of life – it is incumbent on us to not only perhaps pick up the pieces and embark on a renewal of self, but question how we in fact may shape our society, our country, and our world, for the better and the good of all.

One source of inspiration in this can perhaps be found in recalling the ideals and bravery by all who have fought for the cause of Irish freedom in times passed.

In Anne’s life we see such devotion to this cause. Born into the Devlin family in Wicklow in 1780, Anne’s life changed with the outbreak of rebellion in 1798. The insurrection her saw her home raided on many occasions, her father imprisoned, and her cousin Michael Dwyer becoming a great rebel commander whilst on-the-run in the hills of Wicklow. When Robert Emmet began to pick up the pieces of the United Irishman movement in the rebellion’s aftermath, he wished to secure the services of a reliable individual to be his housekeeper at his secret headquarters in Butterfield Lane in Rathfarnham.

Anne’s cousin, Arthur, still close to the republican movement, sent Anne to assist Emmet with anything he needed. As Anne explained to one of her biographers, Brother Luke Cullen: ‘… it is a great mistake to say that I was a hired servant’.

As Emmet began plotting a new rebellion in the months leading to July 1803, Anne told Cullen how she was

trusted in the confidence of Emmet and his lieutenants, she said ‘If I happened to enter on household business to the drawing room, Mr. Emmet… and some others would never break off their discourse, even if on the most dangerous part of their plans… I often overheard them say, ‘Anne is one of ourselves’.

Make no mistake, Anne Devlin was a chief conspirator in the plans for the rebellion of 1803 and recognised as such as by Robert Emmet.

In the disastrous aftermath of the rebellion, Anne would endure the grim torture of a mock hanging in Butterfield Lane, only the beginning of her ordeals In the walls of Kilmainham Gaol, she suffered horrific conditions in solitary confinement and resisted all attempts to break her by the great spy of Dublin Castle, Dr. Edward Trevor. Among the horrors Trevor inflicted on Anne which saw the imprisonment of her entire family, a stay in Kilmainham which resulted in the death of her nine year-old brother, James. It is indeed ironic that Emmet’s rising while only lasting a few hours resulted in this horrific experience for Anne for three years until her release in 1806. Her devotion to Emmet and his cause would of course continue shape the remainder of her life.

With Anne’s anniversary today, one must remark of the extraordinary coincidence of the anniversary of Emmet’s death falling on 20th September. Not even Emmet claimed the fighting that July night in 1803 constituted a truly great effort. But in seeing the type of society he envisaged in his Proclamation of 1803, or the fiery idealism of his Speech from the Dock, we get a sense of this extraordinary individual to whose cause Anne was devoted. Even his alleged words to the crowd gathered on Thomas Street to witness his execution, ‘'My friends, I die in peace and with sentiments of universal love and kindness towards all men’ reveal an extraordinary compassion from one of Ireland’s greatest revolutionaries.

In the sketches of her life in the aftermath of her imprisonment, we know Anne Devlin married one William Campbell in 1811 and had four children. It is incredible in all these years after she continued to be tracked by the authorities in Dublin Castle, but as in those awful years in Kilmainham Gaol, she never betrayed anything of Emmet’s rebellion or those who supported him. As she explained to Cullen, ‘I was of the opinion that some of the persons connected with that affair did not choose to acknowledge even a slight acquaintance with me… But they could not take better care of themselves then I did of them while I held the thread of their existence in my fingers.’

It is likely due to the continued interest in her by the authorities, that by her death in 1851, she died in utter poverty and in obscurity in her home in the Liberties; alone and forgotten by Emmet’s supporters.

The great biographer of the United Irishmen, RR Madden, who did so much to bring her story to the world was shocked to find Anne had passed on a returning visit to her home. Mistaking her place of burial in Glasnevin cemetery for a mere pauper’s grave, Madden had Anne’s remains removed from their previous site and brought to this current location. While undoubtedly well intentioned by Madden, his was an enormous mistake and an unnecessary humiliation for a great Irish revolutionary, who had in fact been buried with her husband William. It is right we continue to support the efforts of Cuimhní Anne Devlin in reuniting Anne and her husband together in death; as was her wish and intent.

Madden once wrote, ‘The day will come when the name of Anne Devlin… will be spoken of with feelings of kindness, not unmixed with admiration.’ And as today, as in years past, we will continue to gather by her graveside and remember her story.

But as we remember, we also give thanks to Anne Devlin for her devotion to the ideals of Robert Emmet and her part in the fight for Irish freedom within that extraordinary generation.

Mícheál Ó Doibhilín thanked Gerry Shannon for his excellent words on Anne, and then spoke in response

Of all our Irish heroes, Anne Devlin would be the one most likely to understand the position in which we find ourselves again this year.

From the time she left prison, after almost three years incarcerated in Kilmainham Gaol and Dublin Castle in indescribable conditions, those who knew Anne shunned her for fear of infection. She was now the carrier of that killer disease Erysipelas – so easily transmitted to anyone by touch, and so fatal to many. Thus she would understand the terrible effect of Covid-19 on us, and our fear of it.

But Anne was infected with something even worse than Erysipelas or Covid-19 – something that the authorities feared could spread like wildfire if not controlled, destroying their society. That dread disease was Nationalism, a burning desire to be free, not just as a person but as a nation, free to design and decide our own future and fate, free to call ourselves a nation once again.

Anne had been infected by Robert Emmet, her cousins Michael Dwyer and Arthur Devlin, and that ‘man from God knows where’ Thomas Russell, to name but a few of the most dangerously infectious she had met.

All but Anne had been dealt with – Emmet and Russell were dead, Dwyer and Devlin deported to what was intended to be a living death in Australia.

Only Anne remained – only Anne knew the names of all those she had been in touch with and who now might be also infected – and infectious – fifty people in total.

The contact tracers of Dublin Castle wanted to know who those fifty people were, people who had supported and paid for Emmet’s abortive rebellion, so that they, too, could be ‘sanitised’ and ‘cured’ as Emmet and the others had been.

Fifty people who, if left alone, could infect, undermine and destroy society as Dublin Castle knew and understood it.

So they quarantined Anne, put her in isolation as we do now with our worst infected. They set a uniformed policeman to watch her every move, to note her every contact, to scare off every friend and acquaintance.

We complain about two weeks, but for forty-five years Anne Devlin endured the isolation of this open prison, this denial of friendship and of an ordinary life. She wore the mask of silence bravely, protecting those who refused to protect themselves or her, because she knew her duty to her fellow citizens. Because of her, those fifty carriers of this rabid infection were free to quietly spread it until it erupted again in 1916 and, this time, spread like wildfire over the next five years as Emmet, Russell, Dwyer, Devlin, Pearse and Connolly had hoped until, finally, 26 counties of Ireland were free.

Yes, Anne Devlin would understand our fear in the face of Covid-19 and its variants. She too had suffered social distancing and isolation, supported only by her brave husband William Campbell.

She would know that we will, eventually, defeat this dreaded disease, and life will return to a semblance of normality. Then, we will be free to come back to her graveside and remember her and her brave sacrifice, that we may be free. We will thank her again for our freedom, for her understanding of our plight, and honour her lone bravery.

Next year, hopefully, we will be able to do this, to thank Anne Devlin and her husband William Campbell properly.

Until then, stay safe … and remember Anne Devlin.

We thanks James Langton and Terry Crosbie for the photographic record and other assistance, without which today's event could not have occurred.

Kilmainham Tales - remembering Anne Devlin 2021