As recent correspondence on this page has shown, the city of Limerick inspires a diversity of reactions in its visitors. This was also the case in previous times, long before Joseph Pulitzer's prize brought renewed notice to the city. Having grown up in Limerick of Belfast parents, I know the city as a home and have an impression of it as a visitor through the eyes of my parents. They liked the city enough to make it their home. Visitors' accounts of my home still fascinate me.
Henry D. Inglis travelled the Ireland in 1834 and recounted his tales in a chronicle of his journey. In Limerick, he found objects of "a deeper, and more melancholy interest" than the sight of the Shannon and the majestic King John's Castle. Visiting more than 40 homes of the poor he wrote: "to the latest hour of my existence, I can never forget the scenes of utter and hopeless wretchedness that presented themselves that day". He continued: "In a cellar which I entered, and which was almost quite dark, and slippery with damp, I found a man sitting on a little sawdust. . . was a living skeleton".
Eve of Famine
Inglis did manage to find a beauty in Limerick at Castleconnell where "the greenest of lawns rise from it, the finest timber fringes it: magnificent mansions tower above their surrounding woods. . .and it so happened, too, that the landscape had all the advantage which alternations of sunshine and shadow could give it".
Later travellers noted a more pleasing, cosmopolitan aspect of Limerick. Asenath Nicholson, touring Ireland on the eve of the Famine, noted the city to be "one of business and beauty". He remarked that "the town did not appear so poverty-stricken as many; people looked intelligent, and the activity reminded me a little of a busy New York." Nicholson regretted leaving the city after his pleasant stay.
An Irish tourist handbook published in 1852 noted that the Shannon was the true glory of Limerick. It was the "king of Irish rivers", as celebrated in the verse of Spenser. According to the handbook, the city resembled "a Flemish town" with "handsome and striking" modern features.
In 1879 William Makepeace Thackeray was convinced he had landed at "a second Liverpool" observing Limerick's tall warehouses and broad quays. He was overcome by the sight of O'Connell Street (formerly King George Street): "The houses are bright red - the street is full and gay, carriages and cars in plenty go jingling by - dragoons in red are every now and then clattering up the street, and as upon every car which passes with ladies in it you are sure to see a pretty one, the great street of Limerick is altogether a very brilliant and animated sight".
Irishtown area
In the Irishtown area of the city Thackeray witnessed a different side of Limerick. "Look out of the nasty streets in to the still more nasty back lanes; there they are, sprawling at every door and court, paddling in every puddle; and in about a fair proportion to every six children an old woman - a very old, blear-eyed, ragged woman - who makes believe to sell something out of a basket, and is perpetually calling upon the name of the Lord." Several of our visitors to Limerick make reference to the beautiful ladies selling lace outside Cruise's Hotel, now the site of the newly developed pedestrian area of the city. Alfred Perceval Graves, son of Bishop of Limerick, witnessed the legendary beauty of Limerick's lasses "counting at one Limerick ball a full score, any one of whom would have been the belle of a London ballroom".
During the First World War British soldiers stationed in Limerick encountered strong opposition from Sinn Fein supporters. Soldiers could only leave their barracks in groups as "they stood a chance of being stoned" if they ventured out alone, according to Capt John Hamilton Maxwell Staniforth of the 7th Leinsters. Staniforth was stationed with the 4th Reserve battalion in April 1917. He often met "brawny young hooligans parading the streets and shouting anti-British or even pro-German slogans".
The Soldier and war-reporter Robert Graves, with the 3rd Royal Welsh battalion in Limerick during the winter of 1918/9, thought the city had the appearance of "a war-ravaged town" with "holes like shell-craters" in the main street and many of the buildings seeming "on point of collapse".
Graves, playing at full-back, still managed to enjoy games of rugby against Limerick City with, of course, the regular match altercations between soldier and Home Ruler.
Nevertheless, even British soldiers found a beauty in Limerick's surrounding countryside. The war poet Siegfried Sassoon found the Ireland he had imagined just outside the city. Exploring the environs of Adare, Sassoon wrote: "Quite unexpectedly I came in sight of a wide shallow river, washing and hastening past the ivied stones of a ruined castle among some ancient trees. The evening light touched it all into romance, and I indulged in ruminations appropriate to the scene."
Sassoon later found himself participating in a fox hunt at Adare. Slightly mystified by the spectacle, he wrote: "Never had I galloped over such richly verdant fields or seen such depth of blue in distant hill. It was difficult to believe that such a thing as `trouble' existed in Ireland."
Drunks in doorways
I know something of Limerick's beauty: playing football late in the evening in the grounds of the university, canoeing down the Mulcair from Annacotty until we met the Shannon, returning from a rugby match at Thomond Park with a painted face and hoarse voice. I also know another beauty: my father retrieving the remains of our burnt-out car from a distant housing estate, the homeless asking passers-by for change, drunks slouched in doorways. Robert Graves, on walking down Limerick's main street in late 1918, noticed a girl rummaging in refuse. He wrote: "I had pictured Ireland exactly so, and felt its charm as dangerous." This charm has experienced an exciting rejuvenation in recent years. Maybe more people should visit the city and experience its charm at first hand, warts and all.