A morning in Kilkenny, with lost music from Byzantium and poetry by Yeats

Aghia Sophia … the interior of the great basilica of Byzantium

Patrick Comerford

I am in Kilkenny this morning [15 August 2015] for a lecture by Alexander Lingas on ‘The Lost Music of Byzantium’. The lecture in the Parade Tower is part of the programme of this year’s Kilkenny Arts Festival. As this year marks the 150th anniversary of the birth of WB Yeats, the ideas for the lecture as inspired, in part, by Yeats’ great poem, ‘Sailing to Byzantium,’ and is one two talks exploring visions of the great city.

In this morning’s lecture, Alexander Lingas uncovers the lost traditions of Byzantine music. When Constantinople fell to the Ottomans in 1453, sacred Byzantine chant was almost lost and forgotten in the West.

Lingas is the founder and Artistic Director of Cappella Romana, an ensemble celebrated for its recordings of this repertoire. He promises to take us in search of the sacred music that was heard in Aghia Sophia, the great church built by the Emperor Justinian in the same century in which Saint Canice founded his monastic settlement at Kilkenny.

The last Divine Liturgy was served in Aghia Sophía (Άγια Σοφία) in Constantinople on Tuesday 29 May 1453. But it was disrupted by the Ottoman slaughter of all who were present in the Great Church that day.

Aghia Sophia was the cathedral of Constantinople until it was captured and desecrated by the Ottomans in 1453. It was then turned into a mosque and became a museum in 1935. Since then, all worship, Christian or Muslim, has been prohibited there.

There are many Greek legends about the Fall of Constantinople. It was said there was a total lunar eclipse on 22 May 1453, and that it was seen as a harbinger of the fall of the city. Four days later, the whole city was covered in a thick fog, which is unusual at this time of the year in the Eastern Mediterranean. When the fog lifted that evening, a strange light was seen above the dome of Aghia Sophia, and from the city walls lights were seen far out to the West, behind the camp of the besieging Turks.

Some people who saw it interpreted the light around the dome as a sign of the Holy Spirit departing from Aghia Sophia.

According to tradition, the Divine Liturgy in Aghia Sophia on Tuesday 29 May 1453 was being served by two priests, one Orthodox and one Roman Catholic, as Constantinople fell to the besieging Muslim forces. When the Ottoman invaders approached the altar, the south wall of the church is said to have opened at the touch of an angel and at his direction the priests miraculously passed through the wall, with the Holy Gifts in their hands. The door that had appeared in the solid wall closed behind the priests and reportedly will not appear again, nor will it opened again, until the interrupted Divine Liturgy can be resumed. It is said that when that day comes, the priests will re-enter through the same doorway through which they disappeared.

A similar legend says that when the Ottomans entered the city, an angel rescued the last emperor, Constantine XI Palaeologus, turned him into marble and placed him in a cave under the earth near the Golden Gate. There he awaits being brought to life again.

Inside Aghia Sophia … the Liturgy of Saint John John Chrysostom became the liturgical norm in the Church of Aghia Sophia in Constantinople

The fall of Constantinople and the legends that have grown up about it provide many of the images in the anonymous Greek poem, ‘The Last Mass in Santa Sophia’:

Σημαίνει ὁ Θιόϛ, σημαίνει ἡ γῆ, σημαίνουν τὰ ἐπουράνια,
σημαίνει κ’ ἡ Ἁγιὰ Σοφιά, τὸ μέγα μοναστήρι,
μὲ τετρακόσια σήμαντρα κ’ ἑξηνταδυὸ καμπάνεϛ,
κάθε καμπάνα καὶ παπάϛ, κάθε παπὰϛ καὶ διάκοϛ.

Ψάλλει ζερβὰ ὁ βασιλιάϛ, δεξιὰ ὁ πατριάρχηϛ,
κι’ ἀπ’ τὴν πολλὴ τὴν ψαλμουδιὰ ἐσειόντανε οἱ κολόνεϛ.
Νὰ μποῦνε στὸ χερουβικὸ καὶ νά ’βγη ὁ βασιλέαϛ,
φωνή τούς ήρθε έξ ουρανου κι απ ̓ αρχαγγέλου στόμα:

«Παψετε το Χερουβικο κι’ ας χαμηλωσουν τ ̓ αγια,
παπάδεϛ πάρτε τὰ γιερά, καὶ σεῖϛ κεριὰ σβηστῆτε,
γιατὶ εἶναι θέλημα Θεοῦ ἡ Πόλη νὰ τουρκέψῃ.

Μὸν στεῖλτε λόγο στὴ Φραγγιά, νά ’ρθουνε τρία καράβια,
τό ’να νὰ πάρῃ τὸ σταυρὸ καὶ τἄλλο τὸ βαγγέλιο,
τὸ τρίτο τὸ καλλίτερο, τὴν ἅγια τράπεζά μαϛ,
μὴ μᾶϛ τὴν πάρουν τὰ σκυλιὰ καὶ μᾶϛ τὴ μαγαρίσουν.»

Ἡ Δέσποινα ταράχτηκε καὶ δάκρυσαν οἱ εἰκόνεϛ.
«Σώπασε κυρὰ Δέσποινα καὶ μὴ πολυδακρύζειϛ,
πάλι μὲ χρόνια μὲ καιρούϛ, πάλι δικά σαϛ εἶναι.»

God rings the bells, the earth rings the bells, the sky rings the bells,
and Santa Sophia, the great church, rings the bells:
four hundred sounding-boards and sixty-two bells,
a priest for each bell and a deacon for each priest.

To the left the Emperor was chanting, to the right the Patriarch,
and from the volume of the chant, the pillars were shaking.
As they were about to sing the hymn of the Cherubim,
and the Emperor was about to appear,
A voice came to them from heaven, from the mouth of the Archangel:

‘Stop the Cherubic hymn, and let the holy elements bow in mourning.
The priests must take the sacred vessels away,
and you candles must be extinguished,
for it is the will of God that the City fall to the Turks.

‘But send a message to the West, asking for three ships to come,
one to take the Cross away, another the Holy Bible,
the third, the best of the three, our Holy Altar,
lest the dogs seize it from us and defile it.’

The Virgin was distressed, and the holy icons wept.
‘Hush, Lady, do not weep so profusely;
‘After years and after centuries they will be yours again.’

The beautiful interior of the Church of Aghia Sophia in Thessaloniki ... its design is a replica of the great Aghia Sopha in Byzantium (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2011)

The references in the poem to the numbers of tocsins, bells, high priests, priests, and deacons do not reflect historic reality. On the other hand, the Greek in this poem, interestingly, has just one word to express the phrase “fall to the Turks” – τουρκέψῃ (turkepsi!).

The poem achieved great popularity during the Greek War of Independence and may have been the most popular demotic song among Greek-speakers in the 19th and early 20th century.

The song became the anthem of the so-called Megali Idea (Μεγάλη Ιδέα), and its emotional themes were echoed in influential literary circles. Nikos Kazantzakis made it the climax of his play Constantine Palaeologus, which he wrote in 1944 while Greece was under Nazi occupation.

The play concludes with the two last lines from another version of the poem:

«Σώπασε, κυρα Δέσποινα, μὴν κλαῖς καὶ μὴ δακρύζεις·
πάλι μὲ χρόνους, μὲ καιρούς, πάλι δικιὰ μας θά ’ναι!»

‘Hush, Lady, do not weep so profusely;
‘After years and after centuries they will be yours again.’

The reference to the Virgin Mary at the end of the poem as Κυρά Δέσποινα is interesting today as 15 August is the Feast of the Dormition in the East (Greek: Κοίμησις Θεοτόκου, Koímēsis Theotokos), or the Assumption in the West, and today is the name day for Greek women with the names Maria and Despoina.

«Σώπασε, κυρα Δέσποινα, μὴν κλαῖς καὶ μὴ δακρύζεις· πάλι μὲ χρόνους, μὲ καιρούς, πάλι δικιὰ μας θά ’ναι!» ... An icon of the Dormition

A stroll in evening sunshine on the West Pier in Howth

Evening lights above Sutton seen from the end of the West Pier in Howth this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

I think Howth is the most unpronounceable place name for many English speakers … a bit like people from Dublin find it difficult when they are in Wexford to pronounce the names of places such as Taghmon, Oulart and the Faythe.

But, not having these problems, I suppose I have to explain why I have often neglected Howth. Perhaps it is because I imagine its beaches are less accessible than those nearer home. Or maybe it’s because Howth is a little off the M50 when thinking of weekend walks on the beach.

However, I was there recently for a reception after a baptism, and there last year for a visit that ended up with a trip to the small island of Ireland’s Eye.

At the end of a busy working week, two of us went out to Howth late this afternoon [14 August 2015] for a late lunch, and it took almost an hour to get there … we could have been in Wexford by then, but it was worth it.

We joined friends and extended family for a late lunch in Beschoff’s on the West Pier, and probably lingered for a little too long. As a vegetarian, I would never have thought of lunch in Beschoff’s, but I was pleasantly surprised by my chickpea and aubergine salad with feta cheese, accompanied by a glass of Pinot Grigio, and followed (of course) with a double espresso.

Strolling along the West Pier in Howth this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Earlier, the West Pier was full of groups of tourists, who sounded preponderantly like Italians. But by the time we had finished our late lunch, the pier was quiet, evening lights were beginning to change the colours in the sky, and the sun was preparing to set behind Sutton and Portmarnock to the west.

After a grey, overcast day, it was delightful to find a glow of warmth in the evening sun as we looked out to Sutton and Portmarnock and north across the seemingly stretch of water separating Howth and tiny Ireland’s Eye.

Looking across to Ireland’s Eye from the West Pier in Howth this evening (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015

An important house in Harold’s Cross remains in a sad state of neglect

No 201 Harold’s Cross Road this week … birthplace of the Quaker abolitionist and philanthropist Richard Allen (1803–1886) (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Patrick Comerford

It is about two years since I promised myself I would return to the Black Apple Café at 206 Harold’s Cross Road and try the lunch menu. On my last visit, I had only a double espresso and a biscuit, but at the time I wished I had arrived in time for lunch.

That opportunity came yesterday afternoon [13 August 2015], when I decided to walk part of the way home after presiding at the mid-day Eucharist in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin.

The last time I was in the Black Apple, I managed to find a table at the window looking out at the main street in Harold’s Cross. But I found a table on the street yesterday so that I could enjoy the afternoon summer sunshine, watching people and traffic passing by.

My hopes and expectations about this café were met as I enjoyed a goat’s cheese salad served with red peppers, sun dried tomatoes, black olives, cashew nuts, sunflower seeds and balsamic dressing.

As I read The Guardian and allowed that double espresso to linger a little longer, I let go of any worries about when the next 49 bus was due. It was difficult not to overhear the chatter at the next table about the best way to get around Rome as a tourist (on foot, of course), and where to find the best coffee shops and pizzeria near the Vatican.

Lunch in the Black Apple Café in Harold’s Cross (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

Later, I decided to cross the road and have another look at the sad and sorry state of No 201 Harold’s Cross Road.

Five months ago, I wrote about the sad neglect and decay of this house, pointing out that this part of local history is in danger of being lost. Countless efforts have been made in recent years to have the complete building classified as a Protected Structure, and to ensure the protection of the railings and plinth wall in front.

Looking at the house from the street, the surviving 18th century features include the blocked front doorcase. But the windows are boarded up and it looks derelict; the front garden is overgrown; and there is sense that the whole site is being neglected. But yesterday afternoon it seemed the only apparent change in the last five months is garish white wash that has been used to cover up graffiti on the walls, but that has simply defaced the attractive symmetry of the red-brick façade.

This is a large red-brick building dating from 1750, and it appears on Rocque’s maps of 1756 and 1760. It was there Quaker abolitionist and philanthropist Richard Allen (1803–1886) was born on 8 January 1803.

The story of the Allen family is told by Clive Allen in his 2007 book

The story of the Allen family is told in detail by Clive Allen in his 2007 book The Allens, Family and Friends, ten generations of Quaker ancestry.

When Richard Allen was born in this house in Harold’s Cross, it was the summer home of his parents, Edward and Ellen Allen. Edward Weston Allen (1765-1848) was a linen merchant and wholesale draper. In 1798, he married Eleanor ‘Ellen’ Barrington (1776-1819), descended from an old Quaker family from Co Wexford.

Edward and Ellen Allen lived at 102 Saint James’s Street, and later at 22 Upper Bridge Street. But in the summer months they lived in this house in Harold’s Cross, which was then a rural area.

Edward was a founding member of the Cork Street Fever Hospital, the Dublin Institution, and other charitable foundations. Towards the end of his life, Edward Allen moved to a house named Mountain View near Churchtown, where he died in 1848 at the age of 82. Although he had long stopped attending Quaker meetings and had left the Society of Friends, he was buried in Friends’ Burial Ground in Cork Street, Dublin.

In all, Edward and Ellen Allen had 15 children. Their second son, Richard Allen, was born in the house in Harold’s Cross on 8 January 1803, and like some of his brothers and sisters was educated there privately by a tutor. At the age of 17, he joined the family business in Bridge Street.

Although his father had been asked to leave the Society of Friends, Richard was an active Quaker and in 1828 he married into another Quaker merchant dynasty when married Anne Webb. But they never lived at the house in Harold’s Cross, living instead at Ellis Quay, and later at High Street, Dublin. He also had shops opposite the GPO in Sackville Street (now O’Connell Street), Dublin, and in Patrick Street, Cork.

He was active in the movement for the abolition of slavery, took part in many anti-slavery conferences in London and lobbied parliament for more effective legislation outlawing the slave trade. In 1840, he attended the World’s Anti-Slavery Convention in London, the other Irish delegates including Daniel O’Connell and the historian Richard Robert Madden.

His commitment to the anti-slavery movement became a financial risk to his business, and he also became involved in movements for prison reform and the abolition of the death penalty.

His friends and wider circle included the freed slave Frederick Douglass, the American publisher William Lloyd Garrison, the temperance campaigner Father Theobald Mathew, the Dublin-born philanthropist Dr Barnardo, and the poet and balladeer Thomas Moore.

He later lived at De Vesci Lodge in Monkstown and then at Brooklawn in Blackrock, Co Dublin, where he died in 1886.

But by 1870 the former Allen family home in Harold’s Cross had already become a ‘Female Orphanage’ with a small central path leading to the front door and an extended north range (now No 199) with a Post Office. In 1936, the main building was still marked on maps as an orphanage. By then the north range was rebuilt, but the shop I remember as Healy’s grocery shop is now closed and derelict.

I asked back in 2013 whether we are about to lose another piece of Dublin’s architectural heritage. Nothing has been done since, and the condition of the house continues to deteriorate.

As I said some months ago, Harold’s Cross is a Dublin 6 suburb that has a lot going for it. It has good cafés, an interesting social mix of housing, from artisan cottages at Harold’s Cross Bridge to the elegant Victorian houses and villas on Leinster Road and Kenilworth Square.

People living in Harold’s Cross may bemoan the loss of the Kenilworth Cinema in recent decades, and the fact there is no major supermarket in the area. But the loss of this house would do far greater damage to the heritage and character of Harold’s Cross.

The loss of No 201 Harold’s Cross Road would be a loss to the heritage and character of Harold’s Cross (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2015)

For other postings on the architectural heritage of South Dublin see:

Berwick Hall.
The Bottle Tower, Churchtown.
Brookvale House, Rathfarnham.
Camberley House, Churchtown.
Dartry House, Orwell Park, Rathfarnham.
Ely Arch, Rathfarnham.
Ely House, Nutgrove Avenue, Rathfarnham.
Fernhurst, 14 Orwell Road, Rathgar.
Fortfield House, Hyde Park, Terenure.
No 201 Harold’s Cross Road, the birthplace of Richard Allen.
Homestead, Sandyford Road, Dundrum.
Kilvare House, also known as Cheeverstown House, Templeogue Road.
Knocklyon Castle.
Laurelmere Lodge, Marlay Park.
Marlay Park.
Mountain View House, Beaumont Avenue, Churchtown.
Newbrook House, Taylor’s Lane, Rathfarnham.
Old Bawn House, Tallaght.
Rathfarnham Castle.
Sally Park, Fihouse.
Scholarstown House, Knocklyon.
Silveracre House, off Sarah Curran Avenue, Rathfarnham.
Synge House, Newtwon Villas, Churchtown, and No 4 Orwell Park, Rathgar.
Templeogue House.
Washington House, Butterfield Avenue, Rathfarnham.
Westbourne House, off Rathfarnham Road.