A friend drew my attention to that strange horticultural work, the Crampton Monument, at the junction of Pearse street, D'Olier street, and College street.
"That's an ancient landmark," he said.
I did not think that Crampton was terribly ancient, and said so.
"That," said my friend, "is the site of the Danish long stone or stane. The sea used to come up to what is now the end of College street, and a stone on the beach where Crampton's monument now stands was known to the Danes - or, rather, to the Vikings - for our historians have messed up Danes and Norwegians shamefully, and really the Danes had very little intercourse with Dublin."
He went on to lecture me upon Dublin under the Vikings, of the great market on the quays of the town, possibly the greatest Viking market of the west, and of the trading that went on there - honey, malt, and slaves passing in return for furs, whale oil, butter, cheese, dried fish, and coarse woollens.
Speaking almost as though he had lived in those days he told me how this "stane" was known a few centuries ago as "the long stone over against the College", and how the remains of what appeared to be a Viking funeral were dug up there. He would have talked about old Dublin for hours had I not torn myself away.
The amusing part of it is that he was a real son of the North with a Shankill road accent and equally pronounced views. But the fascination of Dublin wins its way into the thoughts of thousands who were born far from its boundaries.
The Irish Times,
January 27th, 1939.