The trade of Dublin is comprised of twenty-five corporations, or guilds, each independent of the other, and represented, as in London, by a common council. Every one of these comprised its masters, journeymen, and apprentices;—and each guild had a patron saint, or protector, whose image or emblem was on all great occasions dressed up in appropriate habiliments.
For this procession every member of the twenty-five corporations prepared as for a jubilee. Small funds only were collected, and each individual gladly bore his extra charges—the masters and journeymen being desirous of outvying one another, and conceiving that the gayer they appeared on that great day, the more consideration would they be entitled to throughout the ensuing three years! Of course, therefore, such as could afford it spared no expense: they borrowed the finest horses and trappings which could be procured; the masters rode—the journeymen walked, and were succeeded by the apprentices.
Every corporation had an immense carriage, with a great platform and high canopy,—the whole radiant with gilding, ribbons, and draperies, and drawn by six or eight horses equally decked and caparisoned—their colours and flags flying in all directions. On these platforms, which were fitted up as workshops, were the implements of the respective trades; and expert hands were actually at work during the entire perambulation, which generally lasted eight or nine hours!—The procession indeed took two hours to pass. The narrow-weavers wove ribbons which they threw to the spectators:—the others tossed into the air small patterns of the fabric they worked upon: the printers were employed in striking off innumerable hand-bills, with songs, and odes to the lord mayor, the lady mayoress, &c.
But the smiths’ part of the spectacle was the most gaudy: they had their forge in full work, and were attended by a very high phaeton adorned in every way they could think of—the horses covered with flowers, gilt stars, and coloured streamers. In this phaeton sat the most beautiful woman they could possibly procure, as wife to their patron, Vulcan. It is unnecessary to describe her dress: suffice it to say, it approached that of a Venus as nearly as decency would permit: a blue scarf, covered with silver doves, was used at her discretion, and four or five little Cupids, apparently naked, with goose wings stuck to their shoulders, (aiming with bows and arrows at the ladies in the windows,) played at her feet.—On one side rode, on the largest horse which could be provided, a huge fellow, representing Vulcan, dressed cap-à-pie in coal-black armour, and flourishing an immense smith’s sledge-hammer as if it had been a light toy!—On the other side pranced his rival, Mars, on a tawdry-caparisoned charger, in shining armour (with an immensity of feathers and horse-hair), and brandishing a two-edged glittering sword six or eight feet long—Venus meantime seeming to pay much more attention to her gallant than to her husband. Behind the phaeton rode Argus, with an immense peacock’s tail; whilst numerous other gods and goddesses, saints, devils, satyrs, &c. were distributed in the procession, on carriages painted with clouds for the gods, and blue flames for the devil!
The skinners and tanners seemed to undergo no slight penance—a considerable number of these artisans being dressed up close in sheep and goat skins of different colours. The representatives of the butchers were enveloped in hides, with towering horns, and rode along brandishing knives, marrowbones, and cleavers!—a most formidable-looking corporation! The apothecaries made up and distributed pills and boluses on their platform, which was furnished with numerous metal pestles and mortars, so contrived and tuned as to sound, in the grinding, like bells ringing some popular air.—Each corporation had its appropriate band and colours; perfect order was maintained; and so proud was the Dublin mob of what they called their fringes,[[47]] that on this peculiar occasion they managed to behave with great decorum and propriety.
[47]. Franchises.
But the crowd seemed always in the most anxious expectation to see the tailors, who were certainly the favourites. The master-tailors usually borrowed the best horses from their gentlemen customers; and as they were not accustomed to horseback, the scene was certainly highly ludicrous. A tailor on a spirited horse has ever been esteemed a curiosity; but a troop of a hundred and fifty or two hundred tailors, all decked with ribbons and lace and every species of finery, on horses equally adorned, presented a spectacle outvying description! Their great difficulty in keeping their seats was extremely amusing.—But when the beast was too obstreperous, a couple of tawdry apprentices led him:—this precaution, however, did not prevent occasional misadventures. The journeymen and apprentices walked—except that number of workmen on the platform. St. Crispin with his last, St. Andrew with his cross, and St. Luke with his gridiron, were all included in the show; as were the city officers in their full robes and paraphernalia. The guild of merchants, being under the especial patronage of the Holy Trinity, could not, with all their ingenuity, find out any unprofane emblem, except a shamrock, of huge dimensions! the three distinct leaves whereof are on one stalk. This, by the way, offered St. Patrick means of explaining the Trinity, and thereby of converting the Irish to Christianity; and hence the shamrock became the national emblem of Ireland. The merchants had also a large ship on wheels, drawn and manned by real sailors.
This singular procession I twice witnessed: it has since been abolished, after having worked well, and done no harm, from the days of the very first lord mayor of Dublin. The city authorities, however, began at length to think venison and claret would be better things for the same expense; and so it was decided that the money should remain in the purse of the corporation, and a wretched substitute for the old ceremony was arranged. The lord mayor and sheriffs, with some dozen of dirty constables, now perambulate these bounds in privacy and silence;—thus defeating, in my mind, the very intention of their charter, and taking away a triennial prospective object of great attraction and pride to the inhabitants of the metropolis of Ireland, for the sole purpose of gratifying the sensual appetites of a city aristocracy, who court satiety and indigestion at the expense of their humbler brethren.