Screenshot 2019-02-24 at 11.11.47

Routemap from

Route video from Relive based on data from Runkeeper exported via Strava

    He sat near them at the table and asked where his father and mother were. One answered:
—Goneboro toboro lookboro atboro aboro houseboro.
    Still another removal! A boy named Fallon in Belvedere had often asked him with a silly laugh why they moved so often. A frown of scorn darkened quickly his forehead as he heard again the silly laugh of the questioner.
    He asked:
—Why are we on the move again if it’s a fair question?
    The same sister answered:
—Becauseboro theboro landboro lordboro willboro putboro usboro outboro.

James Joyce. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 143).

James Joyce was born in Dublin on February 2nd 1882. He lived in 14 houses with his family before he left Ireland for the continent of Europe in December 1902, returning briefly due to the illness and the subsequent death of his mother. He left Ireland permanently in October 1904 with Nora Barnacle.

This blog post looks at each of these 14 houses, as I cycle to all of them in the chronological order in which James Joyce and his parents and siblings lived, and in some cases died, in them.

Joyce referenced his families houses throughout his works, notably as places in which Stephen Dedalus grows up in a Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, but also in Ulysses as places in which Bloom, Molly and other characters live, work and wander around in.

The Joyce family moved house regularly and they became accustomed to being moved on from house to house, hence the last line in the quote from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, above, which forms the backdrop of this blog post.

Joyce makes fun of the moving between the various houses in Finnegans Wake in a passage about Shawn delivering a letter. In the passage, quoted below, he writes of the difficulties of delivering the letter and lists many of the houses that he lived in,

    Letter, carried of Shaun, son of Hek, written of Shem, brother of Shaun, uttered for Alp, mother of Shem, for Hek, father of Shaun. Initialled. Gee. Gone. 29 Hardware Saint. Lendet till Laonum. Baile-Atha-Cliath. 31 Jan. 1132 A.D. Here Commerces Enville. Tried Apposite House. 13 Fitzgibbets. Loco. Dangerous. Tax 9d. B.L. Guineys, esqueer. L.B. Not known at 1132 a. 12 Norse Richmound. Nave unlodgeable. Loved noa’s dress. Sinned, Jetty Pierrse. Noon sick parson. 92 Windsewer. Ave. No such no. Vale. Finn’s Hot. Exbelled from 1014 d. Pulldown. Fearview. Opened by Miss Take. 965 nighumpledan sextiffits. Shout at Site. Roofloss. Fit Dunlop and Be Satisfied. Mr. Domnall O’Domnally. Q.V. 8 Royal Terrors. None so strait. Shutter up. Dining with the Danes. Removed to Philip’s Burke. At sea. D.E.D. Place scent on. Clontalk. Father Jacob, Rice Factor. 3 Castlewoos. P.V. Arrusted. J.P. Converted to Hospitalism. Ere the March past or Civilisation. Once Bank of Ireland’s. Return to City Arms. 2 Milchbroke. Wrongly spilled. Traumcon-draws. Now Bunk of England’s. Drowned in the Laffey. Here. The Reverest Adam Foundlitter. Shown geshotten. 7 Streetpetres. Since Cabranke. Seized of the Crownd. Well, Sir Arthur. Buy Patersen’s Matches. Unto his promisk hands. Blown up last Lemmas by Orchid Lodge. Search Unclaimed Male. House Condamned by Ediles. Back in Few Minutes. Closet for Repeers. 60 Shellburn. Key at Kate’s. Kiss. Isaac’s Butt, Poor Man. Dalicious arson. Caught. Missing. Justiciated. Kainly forewarred. Abraham Badly’s King, Park Bogey. Salved. All reddy berried. Hollow and eavy. Desert it. Overwayed. Understrumped. Back to the P.O. Kaer of. Ownes owe M.O. Too Let. To Be Soiled. Cohabited by Unfortunates. Lost all Licence. His Bouf Toe is Frozen Over. X, Y and Z, Ltd, Destinied Tears. A.B, ab, Sender. Boston (Mass). 31 Jun. 13, 12. P.D. Razed. Lawyered. Vacant. Mined. Here’s the Bayleaffs. Step out to Hall out of that, Ereweaker, with your Bloody Big Bristol. Bung. Stop. Bung. Stop. Cumm Bumm. Stop. Came Baked to Auld Aireen. Stop.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420, 421).

In this passage, at least eight of the houses the Joyce family lived in are mentioned, mostly in the chronological sequence of when they lived in them.

29 Hardware Saint,

13 Fitzgibbets,

12 Norse Richmound,

92 Windsewer. Ave.,

8 Royal Terrors,

3 Castlewoos,

2 Milchbroke. 

7 Streetpetres

60 Shellburn.

He also mentioned some of the areas that they are located in,

Traumcon-draws, Fearview, Philip’s Burke, Clontalk, Cabranke. He also references 60 Shelbourne Road as 60 Shellburn, which is where James Joyce moved to when he left the family home in Cabra for good.

The James Joyce Digital Archive indicates that this section with Joyce’s former addresses was inserted into the transition proofs of Finnegans Wake sometime in February or March 1928. They largely went from appearance in the transition proofs to the published work without any amendments with the exception of minor spelling changes. You can see the insertions by comparing these two transition proofs here and here.

Joyce’s sister Eileen and her children visited the Joyce family in Paris in late February and early March of 1928 before returning to Dublin. Perhaps their visit and the associated recollections influenced his decision to insert the letter with the Dublin addresses into the text.

In Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. Edited by Richard Ellmann, there is a list of the addresses that James Joyce lived in. In the opening paragraph, Ellman concedes that,

The following list is fairly accurate, though some of the dates and places cannot be proved, and a few are conjectural.

Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. Edited by Richard Ellmann (p. lv).

The houses listed in Ireland prior to Joyce’s leaving for the Continent of Europe in 1904 are;

41 Brighton Square West, Rathgar

23 Castlewood Avenue, Rathmines

1 Martello Terrace, Strand, Bray 

‘Leoville’, 23 Carysfort Avenue, Blackrock

14 Fitzgibbon Street, Dublin

29 Hardwicke Street, Dublin

2 Millbourne Avenue, Drumcondra

17 North Richmond Street, Dublin

29 Windsor Avenue, Fairview

Convent Avenue, Fairview

13 Richmond Avenue, Fairview

8 Royal Terrace, Fairview

32 Glengariff Parade

7 St Peter’s Terrace, Phibsborough (Cabra)

The list compiled by Ellmann also includes references to trips Joyce made to Cork, Glasgow, London and Mullingar, as well as the time he spent in Clongowes Wood College. I am concerned mainly with the 14 houses that Joyce lived in with his parents.

Ellmann also lists:

60 Shelbourne Road, Dublin (a furnished room)

With James H. Cousins, 35 Strand Road, Sandymount

With his uncle William Murray, 103 North Strand Road, Sandymount

With Oliver St. John Gogarty, The Tower, Sandycove

Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. Edited by Richard Ellmann (p. lvi).

These residences are not as central to this blog post, but we do pass all of them on the main part of this blog, the Joycycle, excepting the fact that the North Strand Road is not in Sandymount.

It is quite difficult to establish exactly where the Joyce family lived, particularly when they lived in and around the area of Fairview, but there is agreement and easily identifiable sources to verify James Joyce’s houses in his first and last years in Dublin. Much of these come from letters he wrote or from a list of houses he said that he lived in, as well as from the works themselves.

As well as the list above in Finnegans Wake, Joyce had his secretary Paul Léon write from Paris to Constantine Curran in Dublin on June 2nd 1937, with a list of addresses for Joyce’s biographer Herbert Gorman. The list is as follows,

41 Brighton Square Rathgar

3 or 6 Castlewood avenue Rathmines

1 Martello Terrace, Bray Co. Wicklow

Leoville Carysfort avenue Black Rock

29 Hardwick street Dublin

12 North Richmond street Dublin

2 Millburne Avenue Drumcondra

29 Windsor avenue Fairview

8 Royal Terrace Philippburgh avenue Fairview

12(?) Glengarriff Parade

7 St Peter’s Terrace Cabra

Martello Tower, Sandycove

60 Shelbourne road Dublin (lodgings)

There are some houses that are usually included by Joyce’s biographers that are missing from this list, notably the houses in Fitzgibbon Street, Convent Avenue and Richmond Avenue.

In his book My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years, Stanislaus Joyce writes,

    In Dublin the steps of our rapid downhill progress, amid the clamour of dunning creditors on the doorstep and threatening landlords, were marked by our numerous changes of address. I have before me a list of nine addresses in about eleven years, though I cannot be sure of the order. 

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 50).

The addresses he lists in order that he describes them in the book are,

Fitzgibbon Street, off Mountjoy Square

Millbourne Lane, Drumcondra

North Richmond Street

Windsor Terrace, Fairview

8 Royal Terrace

32 Glengarrif Parade

7 St. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra

Stanislaus remembers nine addresses but lists only seven. It is uncertain what the other two were, perhaps houses that he lived in after James left Cabra, or perhaps Convent Lane and Richmond Avenue, which do not feature in James Joyce’s list and for which there are no direct entries in Thom’s Directories. These addresses are listed in Richard Ellmann’s biography of James Joyce so perhaps Stanislaus told him about them in their meetings of 1953 and 1954.

In 1898 they were in a two-story, rather pleasant house at 29 Windsor Avenue in Fairview, where they remained at least until May 1899; they then moved in temporarily with a family named Hughes in a house in Convent Avenue; they had part of a larger house at 13 Richmond Avenue, in Fairview, in late 1899, and were still there in April 1900; their next move, in May, was to an attached house in 8 Royal Terrace Fairview.

Richard Ellmann,  James Joyce: New and Revised Edition. (p. 68).

Whatever the case, the stays in Convent and Richmond Avenues were short and are not remembered by James Joyce himself. Additionally, they are not explicitly referred to in the published works.


When Joyce left the family home in Cabra, he immediately crossed back over the River Liffey to the southside of Dublin to 60 Shelbourne Road. In this blog post, I stop at the last house that he lived in with his family and in particular his mother May, which was 7 St. Peter’s Terrace. On the rare occasions that he returned to Dublin, he stayed briefly with his father in St. Peter’s Road as well as in Fontenoy Street and with his Aunt Josephine on the North Strand as well as friends in Dromard Terrace formerly Strand Road in Sandymount, and famously the tower in Sandycove.  Previously I created a blog post where I ran between the two houses in Cabra and Shelbourne Road, without passing a pub, Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub, which you can read here.


Joyce was born into relative prosperity in the Dublin suburb of Rathgar in 1882, moved nearby to Rathmines in 1884, before moving some 20 kilometres south to Bray in County Wicklow, in 1887, at the age of 5. As the family prosperity declined, they headed north from Bray, into numerous houses in Dublin, before eventually settling in Cabra on the northern edge of Dublin city.

The decline in the family prosperity as they moved northwards is described by Ken Monaghan, James Joyce’s first cousin,

The story of the Dublin Joyce family is an unfortunate one mainly because of my grandfather’s spendthrift habits and excessive liking for the products of Arthur Guinness and John Jameson. The family was dragged from comfortable middle-class circumstances on the fashionable south side of the city to the very unfashionable north inner city and to conditions of extreme poverty and destitution.

Ken Monaghan. Joyce’s Dublin Family (p. 22).

   Jack Joyce was 43 when the move across the river took place. He always saw himself as the victim of circumstances, beset by enemies. He was never again to hold down full-time employment, There was occasional work from solicitors or accountants but otherwise the only money coming into the house was his small pension, most of which disappeared down his own throat in the form of alcoholic liquor.

Ken Monaghan. Joyce’s Dublin Family (p. 30).

Just as James Joyce was called Jim, to his family, John Joyce was known as Jack, such substitutions being common in Ireland.

Route Notes

Usually, in this blog site, I create a run around a theme that emerges from Joyce’s life and his writing. In this instance, in order to travel around all of the houses that Joyce lived in before he left Dublin, a distance of some 65km or so, too far for me to run, a different form of transport is needed, and as noted in Ulysses, 

What facilities of transit were desirable?

When citybound frequent connection by train or tram from their respective intermediate station or terminal. When countrybound velocipedes, a chainless freewheel roadster cycle with side basketcar attached

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 587).

I was countrybound, at least in part, So I planned a cycle route, without the side basketcar. I would make a Joyce cycle, or as I like to call it, a Joycycle.

Initial Route Map from Google Maps

Initial Route Map from Google Maps: Shortest Sequential Distance

I initially based the route on the houses and the order in which they are listed in Letters of James Joyce, Volume Two, Vivien Igoe’s book, James Joyce’s Houses & Nora Barnacle’s Galway as well as Roger Norburn’s A James Joyce Chronology. I have taken the dates listed in this blog post from Norburn’s book. Where there is an occasional conflict between the books, I note this in the text.

I tried to verify the addresses from original sources myself. I cross checked as many of the references as possible in Thom’s Directories from 1846 to 2012, almost all of which are available in the Dublin City Library & Archive on Pearse Street. Thom’s Directories are an almanac that includes a street directory for Dublin City and County together with the names of the principal residents of each property. I traced John Stanislaus Joyce through the directories in the late ninteenth and early twentieth centuries to track the Joyce family movements.

As well as Thom’s, I delved into the Census of 1901 and 1911, both of which are available online here. I then went to the Valuation Office in The Irish Life Centre on Abbey Street and then out to UCD to the Special Collections section of the James Joyce Library and the UCD Richview Library to look at their collection of maps. I also went to the libraries in Trinity College Dublin.

In the introduction to each of the houses, I have listed the valuation of the houses in 1904 to try and give a comparative figure between all of the properties. You can see how the valuation generally goes down as the Joyce family move from house to house.

In this blog, I typically curate a route around points of interest that I find in the writings of Joyce. In this instance, it is more straightforward as each of the points on the route are determined by where he lived. In the city, I tried to take the direct point to point shortest routes. In the case of the journey between Castlewood Avenue and Bray, Bray to Blackrock and Blackrock to Hardwicke Street, I planned routes that were visually attractive and that I thought Joyce might possibly have used, rather than by the wider and newer dual carriageways. As well as visiting all of the houses Joyce lived in with his family in sequence, I also designed into the route a cycle past all of the other houses he stayed in Dublin, prior to his departure to the continent, and past a number of other interesting Joyce related places. The shortest route, according to Google in 57.6km. The final route we travelled was 63.54km and took 3 hr 53m according to Runkeeper.

Prior to doing the cycle, I went to all of the houses to take the various photographs as well as getting a feeling for the areas that the houses are in. When I took the pictures on the southside it was relatively sunny, particularly when I went out to Bray, and when I went to the northside it was dull and overcast. So I returned to all of the houses to try and get photographs showing them at their best and taken in favourable weather. This gives a particular impression of the properties, in some cases glamming them up, but at least it is for the most part, consistent.

By way of comparison if you look at Bruce Bidwell and Linda Heffer’s book from 1981, The Joycean Way: A Topographic Guide to ‘Dubliners’ & ‘A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man’, you will see some very grim photographs of Dublin and several of the houses including Leoville (p. 21) and 29 Windsor Avenue (p. 44). Chester Anderson took a particularly grim photograph of 29 Windsor Avenue (p.23), in his book, James Joyce and his World, published in 1967.

Printed in black and white, and seemingly taken on dull days, the unpainted plaster facades photographed in the early 1980’s, by Bidwell and Heffer and the 1960’s by Anderson, long before any economic uplifts in Ireland, point more directly to what the houses may have been like in Joyce’s time.

I returned to many of the properties after the cycle, thinking about this blog post. By way of example, spending hours trying to figure out where 13 Richmond Avenue is today. You can find out below.

The names of the houses and their addresses have sometimes changed, and on occasion have been demolished. I note these in the text that follows. In each of the house locations, I have included the Eircode, Ireland’s recently introduced postal code system, as a means of finding them. If you click on this link  you can access the address and map location on the Eircode system. Just pop in the relevant Eircode and it will take you to the relevant point on the map. The Eircodes also work in Google Maps.

I have also included a reference for the what3words address, a system that is both internationally recognised and extremely easy to use. What3words divide the world into 3m x 3m squares and give each square a set of unique identifying three English words. I think Joyce might have liked this system. The combination of words is random but in the reference to 32 Glengarriff Parade, it is strangely apt. One of the last and least salubrious of the Joyce family houses has a what3words reference of trades.villa.noble.

On the cycle, I was accompanied by Con Kennedy.

James Joyce’s Family Houses


House 1: 41 Brighton Square

House 1: 41 Brighton Square, Rathgar, Dublin. 2nd February 1882 – Spring 1884

Present Address: 41 Brighton Square, Dublin 6.

Eircode: D06 T9N3 

what3words: risks.hook.even

1904 Valuation: 28l.

James Joyce was born on 2nd February 1882, in the house on Brighton Square, which as most commentators observe, is actually a triangle. The house was relatively new when the Joyces moved in, with Brighton Square established as a trust the year before, in 1891. James Joyce wasn’t actually born in Dublin City. In 1892 Brighton Square was in County Dublin, rather than the City. This was the case with most of the houses the Joyce family were born and lived in.

In Thom’s Directory of 1882, when he is first recorded in Brighton Square, John Joyce appears as Joyce, John esq. col.-gens office. He also makes an appearance in the category Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders as Joyce, John Stanislaus, 41 Brighton square, w. Rathgar. He holds station in Thom’s Directory of 1883 and 1884. In Thom’s Directory of 1885, he has left Brighton Square.

It should be noted that Thom’s Directory for each particular year gives details for the preceding year as it was published in January of each year, with the information frozen in October of the preceding year. So if you want information on Dublin in 1904, the Thom’s Directory to consult is the 1905 edition.

Joyce references Brighton Square in his work as he does most of the houses in which he lived. In the episode Penelope in Ulysses, Molly Bloom thinks of her early encounters with Poldy,

the very 1st opportunity he got a chance in Brighton square running into my bedroom pretending the ink got on his hands

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 634).

When James Joyce was 2 years old he underwent the first of his numerous moves, setting a pattern that would continue until his death in Zurich in 1941. In this, his first move, he travelled a short distance, 1.8km northeast to 23 Castlewood Avenue in Rathmines. In John Stanislaus Joyce, Wyse Jackson and Costello (p. 126) say that the reason the Joyce Family moved was one of size, as Brighton Square was becoming cramped.

Between the first floor windows, you can see a plaque announcing this house as the birthplace of James Joyce. After a quick selfie with the house and plaque in the background, our journey begins and Con and I start the short cycle to Joyce’s second home.

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House 2: 23 Castlewood Avenue.

House 2: 23 Castlewood Avenue, Rathmines, Dublin. Spring 1884 – Spring 1887

Present Address: 23 Castlewood Avenue, Dublin 6.

Eircode: D06 F8X2

what3words: turned.united.ants

1904 Valuation: 28l.

You can see in the picture above that the house at Castlewood Avenue is substantially larger than 41 Brighton Square, being double fronted and two storeys over basement.

Castlewood Avenue is in Rathmines and it was in this house that Joyce’s brother Stanislaus was born. A pattern was set. For the Joyces, there were to be a lot of houses, and a lot of children.

In Thom’s Directory of 1885, 1886 and 1887, Joyce, John esq. is listed as residing at 23 Castlewood Avenue, Rathmines. His occupation, previously given as the col-gens office is not listed, perhaps the first sign of trouble ahead, but he is still to be found in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders section.

In Thom’s Directory of 1888, the house at 23 Castlewood Avenue is occupied by a Patrick Carew. Joyce, John esq. of 23 Castlewood Avenue drops out of Thom’s Directory. Joyce, John esq. is listed as 17 Richmond street, north, and 42 Sackville street, upper. This John Joyce remains in Richmond Street north for many years, causing confusion for people like me, tracing the Joyce family, as well as various landlords searching for John Stanislaus Joyce, ever elusive father of James.

Castlewood Avenue, being a relatively short distance from Brighton Square, allowed the Joyce family to stay in the social structures they were accustomed to, particularly the close family connections of Joyce’s mother May. The next house in Bray was some 20km away, to the southeast on the coast, perhaps deliberately chosen by John Joyce to keep his wife’s relatives away.

In Thom’s Directory of 1888, 1 Martello-Terrace, Strand, Bray is listed as vacant. It was soon to be filled.

The house at Castlewood Avenue is referenced in the list in Finnegans Wake, though like many of the houses Joyce gets the number wrong, understandable given the age he was when lived in the house,

3 Castlewoos. P.V. Arrusted. J.P. Converted to Hospitalism.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

This house is listed for rental online for €6,000 per month and if you are feeling flush, or just curious you can see the listing here. There is a plaque, which is to the right of the front door. It features in the listing, noting that James Joyce wrote his first words in this house. As it lists his age as being between 2 and 5 years old they are perhaps not as meaningful as the words he wrote in the coming years. We cycle by with the house on our right and onwards towards Bray.

I chose to cycle along the coast to Bray, enjoying the scenery and fresh air. On this leg, we passed two places that Joyce stayed in. First, we cycled to Dromard Terrace, formerly Seafort Avenue West, just off Sandymount Green, where Joyce spent the famous night of 16 June 1904, the day on which Ulysses is set. From here we cycled along the coast through Blackrock Park, where Stephen runs in A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man, before cycling along the coast to where Ulysses opens with the Stately, plump Buck Mulligan on the stairhead in the Martello Tower in Sandycove, now the James Joyce Tower and Museum. Joyce stayed here for a week in September 1904. For some reason Oliver St. John Gogarty thinks it was longer. In, It Isn’t This Time Of Year At All! he writes,

    We lived there for two years, greatly to the anxious relief of our parents. Joyce had a job at an adjoining school. I had some reading to do for my medical degree. When the weather was warm we sun-bathed on the roof, moving around the raised sentry platform with the sun and out of the wind. In the evenings we would visit the Arch, kept by watery-eyed Murray, soon to become a widower, or go into the Ship in Abbey Street in the city to meet Vincent Cosgrove or ‘Citizen ‘ Elwood, our friends from the Aula Maxima.

Oliver St. John Gogarty, It Isn’t This Time Of Year At All! (p. 69).

Perhaps living with Joyce for a week seemed like two years, but, by turning him into Buck Mulligan, Joyce made St. John Gogarty immortal.

Leaving Sandycove behind, we keep to the coast, cycling up the Vico Road, choosing it for its associations with Finnegans Wake. 

    As I went for walks with Joyce in the afternoons I attempted to make landings on and explorations of the territory that was looming before us. Joyce suggested I should read Vico. But had Vico been translated into a language I could read? Yes, Michelet had translated him into French. That was not too easy for me either, and I decided I could get enough knowledge of Vico to pass by reading the article about him in the Encyclopaedia Brittanica. Meanwhile I could talk about him on our promenades.
    “He was one of those round-headed Neapolitan men,” Joyce told me. I forget whom he mentioned as another of them. He told me of Vico’s theory of the cycles in history. These historical cycles connected in some way with the Vico Road that follows the bend of Dublin Bay between Dalkey and Killiney — in Joyce’s mind they did anyway.

Padraic and Mary Column, Our Friend James Joyce (p. 122).

Giambattista Vico was born in Naples and this view south to Bray Head is often compared to the view of the Bay of Naples. The view is beautiful, but not so easy to enjoy when you are cycling uphill into a strong south easterly wind. Once you crest the hill and cycle under the archway at Killiney Hill, it’s pretty much downhill all the way to Bray.


House 3: 1 Martello Terrace, Bray. The house is on the far right of the picture.

House 3: 1, Martello Terrace, Bray, County Wicklow. Spring 1887 – Late 1891  

Present Address: 1, Martello Terrace, Strand Road, Bray, County Wicklow.

Eircode: A98 P661

what3words: curated.universe.device

1904 Valuation: 32l.

The house at Bray was beside the sea, close enough that on occasion the sea water rose to the level of the front door. It is located at the end of the long seafront, perfect for promenading and for John Stanislaus Joyce, the proximity to the Boat Club was ideal.

In Thom’s Directory of 1888, there is no mention of the Joyce family in 1 Martello Terrace which is listed as vacant. A Vance, James esq. is listed in 2 Martello Terrace. The Vance’s are mentioned in A Portrait as an Artist as a Young Man as living in number 7.

In Thom’s Directory of 1889, there is still no sign of the Joyce family, though Vance, James esq. is now at number 4 and Vance, Mrs. is at number 8. There is no listing in the 1890 Thom’s Directory for John Joyce at 1 Martello Terrace either. Mr. and Mrs. Wiseheart are listed at 23 Castlewood Avenue. Where is John Joyce?

I am not the only person wondering where the Joyces are. Patricia Hutchins in her wonderful book, James Joyce’s Dublin, thinks (p. 23) that they left Castlewood Avenue for an untraced house before they got to Bray. If they did, nobody seems to remember it.

Eventually, John Joyce appears in Thom’s Directories of 1891 and 1892, where Joyce, John S. esq. is listed as living at 1 Martello Terrace in Bray. Perhaps Thom’s, like myself did not quite know where he had been for the last few years. Joyce, John S. esq. of 1 Martello Terrace, Bray has also finally made it back to the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants, and Traders section of Thom’s Directories for 1891 and 1892

James Joyce remembered Bray well and was later to send his daughter Lucia there to stay with her cousins in 1935. Bray features in both Stephen Hero and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man with the life and events surrounding the young Stephen described. In Stephen Hero, Stephen Daedalus refers to his childhood in Bray in the house where he had a nurse.

—I don’t believe, for example, that Jesus was the only man that ever had pure auburn hair.
—Nor that he was the only man that was exactly six feet high, neither more nor less.
—Well, you believe that. I heard you tell that years ago to our nurse in Bray — do you remember nurse Sarah?
—Mrs. Daedalus defended the tradition in a half-hearted way.
—That is what they say.
—O, they say! They say a great deal.
—But you need not believe that if you don’t want to.
—Thanks very much.
—All you are asked to believe in is the word of God. Think of the beautiful teachings of Our Lord. Think of your own life when you believed in those teachings. Weren’t you better and happier then?
—It was good for me at the time, perhaps, but it is quite useless for me now.

James Joyce, Stephen Hero (p. 134).

His stay in Bray was to prove useful to him, but the stay was again a short one. Late in 1891, the Joyce family began their relentless move northwards, stopping first at the edge of Blackrock village, 13.2km north from Bray.

We have a coffee and a crepe on the Bray seafront, fuelling up for the cycle back northwards. Much as there is a cyclical attraction in returning via the Vico Road, there is a long way to go and we cycle the less visually appealing route through Deansgrange, more in keeping with the Joyce family’s downbeat journey north.


House 4. Leoville. 23 Carysfort Avenue.

House 4: “Leoville”, 23 Carysfort Avenue, Blackrock, Dublin. Late 1891 – Late 1892

Present Address: “Leoville”, 23 Carysfort Avenue, Blackrock, Dublin.

Eircode: A94 D407

what3words: parks.modern.rocket

1904 Valuation: 30l.

There is some disagreement about the dates that the Joyce family lived in Leoville. They may have moved in late 1891 or early 1892 and leaving possibly late in 1892 or in early 1893. Either way, the stay in Blackrock was memorable but brief.

Gordon Bowker in James Joyce: A Biography says of the house at Blackrock,

The new house was even more impressive than the last, sustaining the myth of a man continuing to prosper.

Gordon Bowker, James Joyce: A Biography (p. 39,40).

I can’t quite agree. Located inland, and with two rather than three stories, it looks to me to be a literal, few steps down. The Valuation Office seems to agree. the house at Bray being valued at 32l the highest valuation of any of the Joyce houses with Leoville valued at 30l.

In Thom’s Directory of 1891, 23 Carysfort Avenue is listed as vacant. In Thom’s Directory of 1892, John Joyce outdoes himself. He is listed in Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders twice. As Joyce, John, esq. 1 Martello Terrace Bray as well as Joyce, J, esq. Leoville, Carysfort, Blackrock. He really was a man about town.

In the County Dublin section of Thom’s Directory of 1892, he also appears twice. Joyce, John S. esq. is listed as living at 1 Martello Terrace in Bray. The listing for 23 Carysfort Avenue is Leoville—Joyce, —, esq. He has made it, but his first name has not

A Joyce, Miss, appears at 1 Martello Terrace, Kingstown, in addition to the Joyce, John esq. who is still at 17 Richmond street, north. Confusion could easily ensue.

In Thom’s Directory of 1893, you might expect John Joyce’s first name to appear in the listing for 23 Carysfort Avenue. Instead, the house name has been dropped and the listing simply says. Joyce, —, esq. But the good news for him is that he is still listed as Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders under his full name and address, Joyce, J. esq., Leoville, Carysfort avenue, Blackrock.

Although his stay in the house at Blackrock was short, it was important as Joyce first started writing essays in this house,

    I believe his first essays to write were made here at Leoville, Blackrock.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 45).

However positive his beginning to write was, Leoville was the last house on the southside of Dublin, with the family prosperity ebbing away. Stanislaus writes about why they left Blackrock,

    Unfortunately there was a boy in my class who lived at Blackrock and came into school by train. He informed our classmates that my father had run away from Blackrock becuase he had gone bankrupt. I considered myself in duty bound to call him a liar (though I knew I was) and to challenge to fight me after school.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 53).

James Joyce writes of Blackrock extensively in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Chapter II opens with Stephen Dedalus living in Blackrock. It is from here that he goes running in the nearby park. You can read my blog post, Stephen’s run round the park about it here.

   During the first part of summer in Blackrock uncle Charles was Stephen’s constant companion. Uncle Charles was a hale old man with a well tanned skin, rugged features and white side whiskers. On week days he did messages between the house in Carysfort Avenue and those shops in the main street of the town with which the family dealt.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 52).

Leoville the name of the house at 23 Carysfort Avenue was the name used by Joyce as the residence of Mrs. Sinico who appears in both Dubliners and Ulysses, though he moves Leoville to Sydney Parade Avenue in Ballsbridge.

The eastern end of Carysfort Avenue was much changed when the Blackrock Bypass was created in the 1980s and the adjoining property to the east of Leoville was demolished to make way for the road.  Leoville has since been subdivided into apartments. The Eircode reference above is for Apartment 1.

Leoville was to be the last house on the southside of Dublin that the Joyce family lived in, as from here they travelled to the northside of the city. The move is recreated in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, complete with the upset that Stephen’s mother displays,

    Two great yellow caravans had halted one morning before the door and men had come tramping into the house to dismantle it. The furniture had been hustled out through the front garden which was strewn with wisps of straw and rope ends and into the huge vans at the gate. When all had been safely stowed the vans had set off noisily down the avenue: and from the window of the railway carriage, in which he had sat with his redeyed mother, Stephen had seen them lumbering heavily along the Merrion Road.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 57).

Joyce wrote happily of his time in Blackrock, the running in the park, the walks with Uncle Charles, all of this was to change with the move north. The physical distance was relatively short at 10.1km, the mental distance was to be much greater.

Stephen travels to Dublin on the train, whilst we cycle in along the Merrion Road, thankfully not lumbering heavily, the crepes from Bray fuelling our cycle. At Ballsbridge we turn down Shelbourne Road, passing 60 Shelbourne Road where Joyce moved to after he left the family home in Cabra in 1904, renting the large room on the first floor at the front. You can read my blog post, running between the two houses without passing a pub, Good puzzle would be Cross Dublin without passing a pub, here.

Oliver St. John Gogarty, describes Shelbourne Road thus,

It is a quiet road. The only traffic consists of the usual milk cart with its ‘gradual’ horse, a laundry ‘float’ or two and, now and then, the Sanitary Corporation’s scavenging cart full of liquid mud.  

Oliver St. John Gogarty, Intimations (p. 39).

It is no longer a quiet road, being a main commuter route in and out of Dublin. We pass 60 Shelbourne Road and cycle into town along Pearse Street, around College Green. We pass over the River Liffey on O’Connell Bridge, just as the Gabriel and Greta Conroy do in The Dead. We don’t stop in the Gresham Hotel, continuing around Parnell Square before we cycle past Belvedere College as we make our way north to Hardwicke Street.


House 5: Hardwicke Street looking towards St. George’s Church

House 5: 29 Hardwicke Street, Dublin. Late 1892 – Late 1892

Present Address: Demolished in 1954.

Eircode: D01 KT98

what3words: dairy.crowd.lazy

1904 Valuation: 23l.

Having made the significant crossing of the River Liffey, the Joyce family stayed for a short period in a boarding house in Hardwicke Street.

The Trades Section of the 1893 edition of Thom’s Directory lists only two Boarding Houses in Dublin, one in Rutland Square, now Parnell Square, and one in Amiens Street. No Boarding Houses are listed in Hardwicke Street. There are no Hotels and Proprietors listed on Hardwicke Street either.

In the 1893 Dublin Street Directory section for Hardwicke Street, there are 48 properties listed. Numbers 10, 17, 23, 24, 25, 30, 40, 41, 38 are listed as tenements and 22 and 46 are described as vacant. The number of tenements and vacant properties gives a direct impression of what the street was like in 1892. A Mrs Gaynor is listed as being the resident on number 29. She is also listed there in the 1892 and 1894 Thom’s Directories and perhaps she was a landlady of sorts.

John Joyce does not appear in Thom’s Directory for Hardwicke Street, indicating the short length of time the family stayed here and their sub-tenancy.


Ordnance Survey Map from 1888 – 1913 showing Hardwicke Street

The boarding house where the Joyce family stayed in 1892, and most of the northern end of Hardwicke Street, has been demolished. In its place is are blocks of Dublin City Council flats. I have given an Eircode close to where the boarding house was located. 29 was at the top of the street on the northwestern side.  It would have been on the left-hand side in the picture above. The boarding house was close to St. George’s Church, and you can see the flats and the Church in the image above.

Nighttown was less than 1km away. Heighho, heighho.

The boarding house in Hardwicke Street is the setting for the story in Dubliners

Mrs Mooney, who had taken what remained of her money out of the butcher business and set up a boarding house in Hardwicke Street, was a big imposing woman. Her house had a floating population made up of tourists from Liverpool and the Isle of Man and occasionally artistes from the music halls. Its resident population was made up of clerks from the city. She governed her house cunningly and firmly, knew when to give credit, when to be stern and when to let things pass. All the resident young men spoke of her as The Madam.

James Joyce, The Boarding HouseDubliners (p. 49, 50).

This boarding house is the first of the nine houses Stanislaus remembers as the family moved back into the city,

    According to my reckoning we moved up to Dublin in 1893. For the first months of our stay in lodgings there was no question of our attending school. We had a long vacation which my brother enjoyed exploring Dublin, with me at his heels.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 51).

Gordon Bowker writes of the move to the northside of Dublin,

  Even in this precarious situation, John still harboured hopes of betterment. Aided by his loan from Dodd, in the summer of 1893, he again moved his family, first, to a gloomy house at 29 Hardwicke street, then to a far grander, four-storey end-of-terrace property at 12 Fitzgibbon Street close to Mountjoy Square. It was a bigger house than any they had occupied before, with three drawing rooms and seven bedrooms. But the north side of the Liffey was an area in decline; and this apparent advancement did not betoken any sudden improvement in his finances but rather the grand, almost final, flourish of a man teetering on the edge of a social abyss.

Gordon Bowker, James Joyce; A Biography (p. 41).

Like many of Joyce’s inner Dublin residences, Hardwicke Street crops up in Finnegans Wake,

29 Hardware Saint. Lendet till Laonum. Baile-Atha-Cliath.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

The family were now northsiders as Joyce’s friend Padraic Colum writes,

James Joyce lived on the north side of Dublin —north of the river, that is. In a city so small, this fact would not appear to have much significance. But in Dublin opinion it had: the north side was a little less and the south side a little more bourgeois. Though his family had lived in various neighbourhoods, at the time of our meeting, Joyce was a north-side man, as was Mr. Bloom. For the few years I had been in the city I had lived on the south side, and Joyce to me was a man from another town.

Padraic and Mary Column, Our Friend James Joyce (p. 17)

Dillon Cosgrove in the preface to his 1909 book, North Dublin City and Environs writes,

There seems to be reason to say something about the north side of the City of Dublin, as that district has hitherto been somewhat neglected. In Gilbert’s otherwise excellent three-volume History of the City of Dublin it is altogether ignored.

Dillon Cosgrove, North Dublin City and Environs (p. 9)

Joyce was to write extensively about the north side of Dublin in this period and to include Dillon Cosgrave’s brother Vincent, who he first met in Belvedere, appearing as Lynch in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses.

The Joyce family stayed a short time in the boarding house, possibly they moved there at short notice after an enforced move from Blackrock. When they left in 1892 they moved a short distance away, just 650m, to Fitzgibbon Street. Dillon Cosgrave (p.46) says that Hardwicke Street was the first home of the Jesuits in Dublin. Joyce was in good company.

We cycle along Mountjoy Square on our cycle, noting the difference between the open space at Bray and the dense urban streets and park that characterise this area.

Photo 24-03-2019, 16 29 50

House 6: 14 Fitzbibbon Street.

House 6: 14 Fitzgibbon Street, Dublin. Late 1892 – Autumn 1894

Present Address: 34 Fitzgibbon Street, Dublin 1.

Eircode: D01 F2W7

what3words: trap.animal.audit

1904 Valuation: 25l.

Fitzgibbon Street runs northeast from Mountjoy Square to the North Circular Road. It has been renumbered and the house that the Joyce family lived in is now number 34. Street names and house numbers in Dublin have often been changed and several houses have been demolished or altered, making the task of identifying them difficult. Fitzgibbon Street is the first of the renumbered Joyce houses.

All of the houses on the southside of Dublin have plaques with a reference to James Joyce having lived there. This house, the first on the northside of Dublin, as with all of the houses on the northside, with the exception of the last house at St. Peter’s Road, does not.

Joyce, John S. esq. is listed as living at 14 Fitzgibbon Street in Thom’s Directory of 1894. In 1893 Frank Madden esq. is residing and it is vacant in 1895. John Joyce is also listed in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Trades of 1894. In 1895 he loses his spot in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Trades section.

Of the move to Fitzgibbon Street, James Joyce’s first cousin, Ken Monaghan writes,

    The Joyce family’s destination was a cold, empty house at 14 Fitzgibbon Street, beside Mountjoy Square, right in the heart of what was set to become James Joyce’s Dublin. Over the next twelve years, the family lived a nomadic existence, moving from house to house basically whenever the rent fell due. The moves often took place in the middle of the night so as to avoid the landlord.

Ken Monaghan. Joyce’s Dublin Family (p.30).

Joyce writes of the bleakness of the unfurnished room of this house in Ulysses where Stephen thinks,

of his father, Simon Dedalus, in an unfurnished room of his first residence in Dublin, number thirteen Fitzgibbon street

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 547).

When you travel around the Joyce houses they all look to be of a vaguely similar size, but it is just a front. As the family moved, their possessions dwindling whilst their number grew, the house fronts were literal facades.

With a bare interior, the house at Fitzgibbon Street is not described in any detail in Joyce’s writings. But the sensations of the new city life that it affords, are. Life was now to take place largely outside of the home.

The sudden flight from the comfort and revery of Blackrock, the passage through the gloomy foggy city, the thought of the bare cheerless house in which they were now to live made his heart heavy: and again an intuition, a foreknowledge of the future came to him. He understood also why the servants had often whispered together in the hall and why his father had often stood on the hearthrug with his back to the fire, talking loudly to uncle Charles who urged him to sit down and eat his dinner.
—There’s a crack of the whip left in me yet, Stephen, old chap, said Mr Dedalus, poking at the dull fire with fierce energy. We’re not dead yet, sonny. No, by the Lord Jesus (God forgive me) not half dead.
    Dublin was a new and complex sensation. Uncle Charles had grown so witless that he could no longer be sent out on errands and the disorder in settling in the new house left Stephen freer than he had been in Blackrock. In the beginning he contented himself with circling timidly round the neighbouring square or, at most, going half way down one of the side streets but when he had made a skeleton map of the city in his mind he followed boldly one of its central lines until he reached the customhouse. He passed unchallenged among the docks and along the quays wondering at the multitude of corks that lay bobbing on the surface of the water in a thick yellow scum, at the crowds of quay porters and the rumbling carts and the illdressed bearded policeman. 

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 57, 58).

In Finnegans Wake, Joyce himself best describes the area and is succinct about the house and environs,

13 Fitzgibbets. Loco. Dangerous.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

In autumn 1894 the Joyce family moved again, this time 1.8km north to 2 Millbourne Avenue.

We cycle down the short hill that is Fitzgibbon Street, along Jones Road past Croke Park, along Clonliffe Road and out across the Tolka River for the first time.


Millbourne Avenue. The Joyce family lived at the end on the right.


House 7: 2 Millbourne Avenue. The house has been demolished and replaced with apartments.

House 7: 2 Millbourne Avenue, Drumcondra, Dublin. Autumn 1894 – Spring 1896

Present Address: Demolished. Now James Joyce Court, Millbourne Avenue, Dublin 9.

Eircode: D09 F8X3

what3words: goad.tribal.cubs

1904 Valuation: 17l. (estimated)

This house at Millbourne Avenue was located just north of the River Tolka in Drumcondra, itself flowing west to east, to the north of Fitzgibbon Street. It was at the end of a lane, just south of St. Patrick’s Training College.

Stanislaus Joyce describes the house and its environs,

    Our new house was a small semi-detached villa at Drumcondra on the outskirts of Dublin. I liked it because it was almost in the country at the foot of a low hill, and just near it were fields with a weir into the Tolka and woods where my school-friends and I could trespass at pleasure. Our neighbours in Millbourne Lane, except in the other half of the villa were farm-hands and navvies who lived in dilapidated cottages.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 54)

screenshot 2019-01-13 18.31.59

Ordnance Survey Map from 1888 – 1913 showing Millbourne Avenue

In the 1895 Thom’s Directory Joyce, Mr. John is listed in the County Dublin Directory living at 2 Millbourne Villas on Millbourne Avenue. He seems to have been demoted to being a Mr. rather than an esq. and does not appear in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Trades section in 1895 or 1896.

James McKiernan is listed as living in Millbourne Villas in 1894. In 1895 when the Joyce family arrives it is split into numbers 1 and 2. In 1896 it reverts back to one house occupied by James McKiernan.

In Thom’s Directory of 1897, Mr. Harry Hilton is living at 1 Millbourne Villas. In 1898 the Villas become listed separately as Holywell-Villas, under Goosegreen-avenue. St. Catherine’s Well is shown on the Ordnance Survey map of the period, presumably influencing the name of Hollywell Cottage and Holywell-Villas. This naming and location in Thom’s Directories continue until 1912 when they are once again listed under Millbourne-avenue, together with the beginnings of the new College View Terrace, which appropriately is a newly constructed terrace facing directly onto the lands of St. Patrick’s Training College, now a campus of Dublin City University. Sometime in 1959 or 1960 Holywell Villas lose their name and simply become two houses on Millbourne Lane, the name Stanislaus used for Millbourne Avenue. Dillon Cosgrave (p.40) calls it Milibourne Avenue, formerly Mill Lane. Thom’s Directory of 1860 refers to it as Millburne-avenue.

There is no valuation given for the villas In Thom’s Directory of 1904. In 1920 they have a valuation of £17 each. They remained at this valuation into 2007, the rates payable based on the valuation of the property multiplied by a changing multiplier each year. So it is reasonable to value the house at £17 in 2004. Either way, it shows a decline in the valuation from the previous properties the Joyce family lived in.

The house in Millbourne Avenue is included in the list in Finnegans Wake, as is Drumcondra,

2 Milchbroke. Wrongly spilled. Traumcon-draws.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420)

Joyce describes the area in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,

    He crossed the bridge over the stream of the Tolka and turned his eyes coldly for an instant towards the faded blue shrine of the Blessed Virgin which stood fowlwise on a pole in the middle of a hamshaped encampment of poor cottages. Then, bending to the left, he followed the lane which led up to his house. The faint sour stink of rotted cabbages came towards him from the kitchen gardens on the rising ground above the river. He smiled to think that it was this disorder, the misrule and confusion of his father’s house and the stagnation of vegetable life, which was to win the day in his soul. Then a short laugh broke from his lips as he thought of that solitary farmhand in the kitchen gardens behind their house whom they had nicknamed the man with the hat. A second laugh, taking rise from the first after a pause, broke from him involuntarily as he thought of how the man with the hat worked, considering in turn the four points of the sky and then regretfully plunging his spade in the earth.
He pushed open the latchless door of the porch and passed through the naked hallway into the kitchen. A group of his brothers and sisters was sitting round the table. Tea was nearly over and only the last of the second watered tea remained in the bottoms of the small glass jars and jampots which did service for teacups. Discarded crusts and lumps of sugared bread, turned brown by the tea which had been poured over them, lay scattered on the table. Little wells of tea lay here and there on the board, and a knife with a broken ivory handle was stuck through the pith of a ravaged turnover.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 142).

Drumcondra is mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Stephen meets Heron, Boland and Nash on the Drumcondra Road and ends up fighting with them on the adjacent Clonliffe Road about who is the greatest poet, Tennyson or Byron. Stephen is hit with, of all things, a long cabbage stump.

Not only does Stephen fall out with his classmates about poets, but he also discovers that in Drumcondra they speak a different language to his Dean of Studies who talks about a funnel, which Stephen calls a tundish.

—To return to the lamp, he said, the feeding of it is also a nice problem. You must choose the pure oil and you must be careful when you pour it in not to overflow it, not to pour in more than the funnel can hold.
—What funnel? asked Stephen.
—The funnel through which you pour the oil into your lamp.
—That? said Stephen. Is that called a funnel? Is it not a tundish?
—What is a tundish?
—That. The… the funnel.
—Is that called a tundish in Ireland? asked the dean. I never heard the word in my life.
—It is called a tundish in Lower Drumcondra, said Stephen, laughing, where they speak the best English.
—A tundish, said the dean reflectively. That is a most interesting word. I must look that word up. Upon my word I must.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 165).

Stanislaus Joyce confirms that Stephen Dedalus’s tussle with his classmates is based on a real fight that his older brother had,

    Even my brother, in spite of his poise and unruffled temper as a boy, could not escape the aggressive jealousy of his companions. The discussion about Byron and heresy and the tussle with three of his classmates in A Portrait of the Artist is neither invented nor exaggerated. He must have been thrown heavily against barbed wire, for my mother had to mend rips in his clothes so that he could go to school the following morning. It was one of the unpleasant memories of Millbourne Lane.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 55).

Stanislaus wasn’t above fighting with the neighbours either,

Our neighbours in Millbourne Lane, except in the other half of the villa, were farm-hands and navvies who lived in dilapidated cottages. Though there were certainly no signs of wealth about the children of our family, the infant proletarians from the cottages were unfriendly, and displayed their hostility by name-calling in chorus and stone-throwing. It was quite unprovoked, due solely to that innate animosity, observable everywhere in the lower classes, to anybody who is not quite yet so lousy as they are. Our house was well down the lane and we had to run the gauntlet of the unwashed every evening coming home from school. In the end I had a fight with one of the most active of the cat-callers a little red-headed rough-neck, who rejoiced in the sobriquet of Pisser Duffy. It was late in the afternoon, and the loungers from the cottages, and even the women, stood around without interfering. In the imaginary portrait for which I served as model,  ‘A Painful Case’, my brother has given me the name of Duffy.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 54).

What with Stanislaus fighting again, this time with small locals, I find it amusing that the what3words reference is goad.tribal.cubs. This is not the last time that I find enjoyment in the chance happenings of words.

A look at the 1901 census, which you can see here, shows that the labourer M. Duffy lived with his family at 18 Melbourne Avenue, Drumcondra. A son, P. Duffy is also listed. When Stanislaus Joyce lived in Millbourne Avenue he was aged about ten or eleven.  But as the P. Duffy listed was 6 in 1901, he would have been a newborn when Stanislaus lived there. Something isn’t adding up.

Millbourne Avenue is the area most changed since Joyce lived there. New housing estates have replaced the farms and farmland and little remains of the infrastructure of Joyce’s time there. 2 Millbourne Avenue was demolished in 1998 and apartments called James Joyce Court constructed in its place. I have given the Eircode for the site. Millbourne Avenue may not have been of great value to Joyce, but like with many of his former homes, he gave value to it.

In spring 1896 the family away from the cabbage smelling avenue and moved south into the city, 2.1 km to 13 North Richmond Street.

We head back the way we came, heading south on Jones Road before turning east and cycling along the North Circular Road to North Richmond Street, passing the O’Connells Schools that Joyce attended briefly, as we do.

fullsizerender 13

House 8: 13 North Richmond Street, with the red door.

House 8: 13 North Richmond Street, Dublin. Spring 1896 – Late 1896

Present Address: 13 Richmond Street North, Dublin 1

Eircode: D01 V1K2

what3words: sample.rushed.moment

1904 Valuation: 19l.

The move to North Richmond Street brought the Joyce family closer to town. North Richmond Street is just off the North Circular Road. At the junction with the North Circular Road is the Christian Brothers School that Joyce attended briefly, as did Oliver St. John Gogarty, albeit some four years ahead of James Joyce.

I pass through North Richmond Street on the Dubliners 21k He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly, which you can read here. I also write about it in Brown Imperturbable Faces, which you can read here.

Many biographers list James Joyce as living at 17 Richmond Street, but a completely different family of Joyce’s lived there. James Joyce’s family are never listed as living at an address in North Richmond Street in Thom’s Directories.

John Wyse Jackson and Peter Costello explain,

A cursory glance at the Dublin street directories gives the impression that the family lived here for several years but confusingly another quite unrelated John Joyce (whose grave can be found in Glasnevin) also lived in the street, at No. 17. John Stanislaus Joyce’s stay would be so brief that Thom’s does not mention him there at all.

John Wyse Jackson and Peter Costello, John Stanislaus Joyce  (p. 198).

Thom’s Directories show that in 1888 a John Joyce esq. is listed at this address for the first time whilst also listed at 42 Sackville Street. He is continuously listed at this address until 1900 when a Mrs. Joyce is listed. The Glasnevin Cemetery records show that this John Joyce died on January 29th 1899 of intestinal cancer. Oddly listed as single, perhaps the Mrs. Joyce who takes his place at 17 North Richmond Street was not his wife. Mrs. Joyce is last listed here in 1904. In any event, this John Joyce was not John Stanislaus Joyce, tempting as it is to think he lived a double life.

George A. Mitchell esq. is listed as living in 12 Richmond Street North in Thom’s Directory in 1895 through 1898. So it is unlikely the Joyce’s lived there. Much more likely they lived in Number 13 as it is listed as vacant in 1896 and 1897. 

North Richmond Street features throughout Joyce’s writings with mentions in most of his major works. Some examples follow,

Stephen was therefore very much surprised one evening as he was walking past the Christian Brothers’ School in North Richmond St to feel his arm seized from behind and to hear a voice say somewhat blatantly:
—Hello, Daedalus, old man, is that you?

James Joyce. Stephen Hero (p. 70).

North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.

James Joyce. Araby, Dubliners (Page 20).

Father Conmee sees the boys crossing to the Christian Brothers School in the Wandering Rocks episode of Ulysses, 

    A band of satchelled schoolboys crossed from Richmond street. All raised
untidy caps. Father Conmee greeted them more than once benignly. Christian
brother boys.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 181).

Also in Ulysses, Stephen thinks of,

of his mother Mary, wife of Simon Dedalus, in the kitchen of number twelve North Richmond street

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 547).

12 Norse Richmound. Nave unlodgeable.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

It is not clear why Mary Dedalus is in number twelve North Richmond street, rather than thirteen, and in the list in Finnegans Wake, the house is also listed as number 12. Most likely Joyce has misremembered the number. Joyce was in good company, Ellmann and others say the Joyce family moved to 17 North Richmond Street (p. 42).

It seems unusual that North Richmond Street is so influential in Joyce’s work, as he stayed there for such a short time, yet several of the stories in Dubliners spring from here.

Late in 1896, the family were on the move again, this time 2.0km northeast to Windsor Avenue, back across the River Tolka.

We cycle east on the North Circular Road, passing 17 and 21 Richmond Place where Joyce stayed on one of his infrequent visits back to Dublin, in 1912. We zigzag through the streets on the north inner city, making our way down Charleville Mall, where Fr. Conmee sees the barge in Ulysses and the boys meet up in An Encounter in Dubliners. We head off as they do travelling north on the North Strand Road. Joyce stayed with his Aunt Josephine in 1904 at 103 North Strand Road, which is here rather than in Sandymount. I cycle past knowing I will return to this particular house in a forthcoming blog post.


House 9: 29 Windsor Avenue. 29 is the house with the red door.

House 9: 29 Windsor Avenue, Fairview, Dublin. Late 1896 – May 1899

Present Address: 29 Windsor Avenue, Dublin 3.

Eircode: D03 R6H3

what3words: prices.guises.guards

1904 Valuation: 17l.

Windsor Avenue is the first of four houses that Joyce lived in from 1896 when he was 14, to 1901 when he was 19, that are all in close proximity to each other, all just to the north of the River Tolka.

Richard Ellmann describes the four,

In 1898 they were in a two-story, rather pleasant house at 29 Windsor Avenue in Fairview, where they remained at least until May 1899; then they moved in temporarily with a family named Hughes in a house in Convent Avenue; they had part of a larger house in Richmond Avenue, in late 1899, and were still there in April 1900; their next move, in May, was to an attached house at 8 Royal Terrace, Fairview.

Richard Ellmann, James Joyce (p. 68).

Like North Richmond Street, Joyce’s last house, Windsor Avenue was originally a cul-de-sac but was extended northwards to new housing built by Dublin Corporation in the late 1920s.

Having eluded them in 1896 and 1897, Thom’s Directories of 1898, 1899 and 1900 list a Joyce, Mr. John as being at 29 Windsor-Avenue off Fairview Strand, Clontarf and Dollymount. He is not listed in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Trades sections in these years. He also appears listed at this address in the Valuation Office records.

The house at 29 Windsor Avenue becomes 92 Windsewer Avenue in the list in Finnegans Wake,

92 Windsewer. Ave. No such no. Vale. Finn’s Hot.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

The smell obviously got to Joyce. The area is much changed from Joyce’s time there, in particular with the creation of Fairview Park from the exposed and pungent mudflats of the Tolka Estuary, which features in the rivers in Finnegans Wake as follows,

Only for my short Brittas bed made’s as snug as it smells it’s out I’d lep and off with me to the slobs della Tolka or the plage au Clontarf to feale the gay aire of my salt troublin bay and the race of the saywint up me ambushure.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 201).

Windsor Avenue was close to the Sewage Tanks and Chemical Manure Works at Ballybough and Annesley Bridges, as well as the mouth of the River Tolka and the mud flats of Fairview. No wonder Joyce referred to it as Windsewer Avenue. Joyce wrote a lot about the smells of Dublin, saying to his friend Arthur Power,

What is the first thing that you notice about a country when you arrive in it? Its odour, which is the gauge of its civilisation, and it is that odour which percolates into its literature.

Arthur Power. Conversations with Joyce (p. 117).

I have written a blog post about the smells of Dublin, Pprrpffrrppffff, which you can read here.

If you want to stay in a Joyce house you can rent the house at Castlewood Avenue and 29 Windsor Avenue is sometimes available to stay in as an Airbnb rental. Airbnb rentals are paid in advance, so someone has learned from John Joyce’s rental shenanigans. You can see the AirBNB link here. It is listed as James Joyce’s Childhood Home, so why not put up a plaque? Pubs never mentioned by Joyce do, so why not homeowners?

In May 1899 the family moved again, this time, 1.0km west to Convent Avenue.

As we cycle along Windsor Terrace it strikes me how many of the houses John Stanislaus Joyce chose to live in were on the edges of Dublin, perhaps he loved the countryside and wanted to be near it, or perhaps he wanted to keep away from people, landlords, in-laws and their ilk.

We cycle westwards on Fairview Strand passing the Jewish Burial Ground and as we head onto the Richmond Road.

IMG_6189 copy 2

House 10: Convent Avenue

House 10: Convent Avenue, Fairview, Dublin. May 1899 – Autumn 1899 

Present Address: 223 Richmond Road, Dublin 3.

Eircode: D03 H523

what3words: digit.cigar.hobby

1904 Valuation: l.

The house that Joyce lived in on Convent Avenue is hard to identify. It pops up in Richard Ellmann’s biography in a very simple, non-descriptive entry as quoted in relation to the four houses in Fairview above. It also appears in the list of addresses in Letters of James Joyce, Volume Two where it simply says,

1899 Convent Avenue, Fairview

Richard Ellmann, Letters of James Joyce, Volume Two (p. lv).

It is not mentioned by Stanislaus or James Joyce anywhere that I can find. Stanislaus leaves one house out in his descriptions so perhaps this is the one. Tracking it down is difficult.  Joyce’s friend Constantine Curran mentions John Joyce’s domestic movements in Fairview in James Joyce Remembered, published in 1968,

He passed from lodging to lodging, paying no bills, and dragging after him in his flight his hapless family. This was the position when Joyce was at college. One story I had of a time when they were at Fairview lodging with a frenchman called Bosinnet. The father and he collaborated in non-payment of rent but when forced to leave a house after some months Bosinnet, posing as landlord, would recommend Joyce senior as a most desirable, punctually paying tenant and John Stanislaus would enter into possession of the new premises with Bosinnet as his lodger and so on alternately.

C. P. Curran. James Joyce Remembered (p. 69).

This paragraph seems to morph into John Wyse Jackson and Peter Costello, John Stanislaus Joyce (P. 221), writing about Convent Avenue in 1997.

     John Stanislaus seemed to be trying to live in every house in north Dublin: Convent Avenue lasted only about six months. Presumably the reason they had to leave was the usual one: the rent was not being paid. John may have persuaded the landlord (who was, it seems, a Frenchman named Bosinnet) to issue receipts, However. One way or another, he secured 13 Richmond Avenue, around the corner.

We will come to Richmond Avenue next but in the meantime, there is Convent Avenue to be discovered.

In the 1900 Thom’s Directory there are only 3 houses, as well as the St. Vincent’s Lunatic Asylum listed on Convent Avenue. John Joyce does not appear in any of the houses and presumably and hopefully not, in the asylum.

Christopher Fox is listed as living at No. 1 Convent Avenue from 1898 through 1904. John Dowling, cab and car owner is listed at No. 2 Convent Avenue for the same period. So it is unlikely the Joyce’s lived at number 1 or number 2 Convent Avenue.

Mr. James Murphy is last listed at No. 3 in Thom’s Directory in 1900. This means that there was a change of resident between 1899 and 1900, the period in which the Joyce Family is said to have stayed in Convent Avenue. In Thom’s Directory of 1901 new residents are listed at Number 3,  Mr. John McKay and Mr. T.P. Turkington. It could be that the Joyce family popped into 3 Convent Avenue between the tenancies of Mr. Murphy and Mr. McKay and Torkington.

As well as new residents the house has a new name, Rose Cottage. Rose Cottage was the name of the Joyce family home in Fermoy County Cork, where the father of John Stanislaus Joyce was born in 1827 and was subsequently the name of the house in Anglesea Street, the Cork City home of John Stanislaus Joyce.

Rose Cottage is at the end of Convent Avenue, to the west at the entrance gates of the Convent. Vivien Igoe thinks it likely that the house that the Joyce’s lived in, is the house on the corner with Richmond Road, for which the present address is 223 Richmond Road. If this is indeed the house that Joyce lived in, then technically the address is not on Convent Avenue at all, though the present front door is. Either way, it is not Rose Cottage.

Wyse Jackson and Costello in John Stanislaus Joyce are of the view that John Stanislaus Joyce (p. 216) worked at Thom’s Directory in and around 1898. If this is the case then perhaps he kept his name and address out of it and away from his creditors.

The reference to the French landlord Bosinnet is mysterious. I can find no reference to a Bosinnet in Thom’s Directories. Neither can I find one in the Census of 1901 and 1911 or records in the valuation office. I tried Griffiths Valuation online with a variety of spelling of Bosinnet for listings in Dublin City and Dublin County, to no avail. Perhaps Curran has misremembered or misspelt the name. The activities Bosinnet is credited with sound like those of the Ulsterman Hughes, who pops up at the next address. There was a Bonass family living in Richmond Road and perhaps this is the family that Curran was thinking of. The name is of French Hugenot origin. Henry Bonass was Chief Law Agent since 1896 and would have been known to John Stanislaus

Maybe none of this matters as in any event, at best the family stay in Convent Lane was short, and Joyce has not included it in his list of houses sent to Constantine Curran in 1937.

If I wanted to clutch at some straws I could posit that the house at Convent Lane is among all of those listed in the section above from Finnegans Wake. Joyce lists most of the houses from his time on the northside of Dublin in the list so it seems plausible he would have included Convent Lane and this is possibly a reference to the house at Convent Lane,

Converted to Hospitalism.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

Convent Lane leads to Saint Vincent’s Hospital, formerly St. Vincent’s Lunatic Asylum (Female). The Hospital website, here, states that in former years it was the home of the Grose family. Perhaps Joyce knew of the conversion from a house to the hospital and this is what he means by Converted to Hospitalism. Neither Roland McHugh’s Annotations to Finnegans Wake or have any detail on this phrase and I think I am stretching in positing this theory. It is from the grounds of this Saint Vincent’s Hospital that the mad nun is heard screeching in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

Perhaps the Joyces never lived on Convent Avenue, but to quote an old cliché; absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

Let’s assume they lived on Convent Avenue and there is more research to be done to find the exact detils. If so, in the autumn of 1899, the Joyce’s moved for the tenth time, to 13 Richmond Avenue, some 250m away, their shortest move to date. I have spent a long time researching Convent Lane, without definitive conclusions, so I am glad to move on, as I am sure, are you.

Con and I cycle up and down Convent Avenue, before turning back onto Richmond Road to go to the next street to the east, Richmond Avenue.


House 11: 13 Richmond Avenue. It is now 10 Richmond Avenue and is the white house set back from the Avenue.

Screenshot 2019-03-10 20.03.30

House 11: Aerial view of Houses 10, 8a and 8 Richmond Avenue from Apple Maps.

House 11: 13 Richmond Avenue, Fairview, Dublin. Autumn 1899 – May 1900

Present Address: 10 Richmond Avenue, Dublin 3.

Eircode: D03 X6V6

what3words: mini.crop.guess

1904 Valuation: 28l.

I thought my research on Convent Lane was convoluted but finding the house on Richmond Avenue was by far the hardest task, taking months, whilst the overall cycle itself took hours. The avenue is straight, but my research journey took many twists and turns. I ended up down several rabbit holes that I was not anticipating. Whilst Joyce’s residential history is mostly well known, with Richmond Avenue there was a lot to discover.

Joyce lived at 13 Richmond Avenue. As it happens the Joyce family also lived at 13 North Richmond Street. Neither address brought them much luck.

Richmond Avenue does not appear in the list in Finnegans Wake, nor does it appear in the list of addresses given by Paul León to Constantine Curran in his letter of June 2nd 1937. Although Joyce may have forgotten his time here, he wrote from 13 Richmond Avenue Fairview to William Archer on 28 April 1900, thanking him for his kindness in relation to correspondences with the playwright Henrik Ibsen.

Knowing that James Joyce definitely lived here and knowing the address was hugely helpful.

Stanislaus does not name the house or the address, but he does describe the house,

    By the time my brother was inscribed as a matriculation student of the Royal University of Ireland, at University College, an affiliated Jesuit institution, we had moved again to a house with many spacious rooms, gates, and a garden, or rather a neglected field, large enough for me and my school-friends to play football in, five or six to a side. It was a ramshackle building in bad repair, but I should have been glad if we could have stayed there. My father entered as lodger, occupying about half the house, while a big, lumbering Ulsterman occupied the other half with his wife and child. The relaxing Dublin climate must have sapped the native energy of this man from Belfast, for he was as improvident as my father himself, so that our residence together, though quite amicable, was brief; poverty and a ruthless landlord put an abrupt end to this attempt at house-sharing under a slightly faded orange and green flag.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 93).

R. E Hughes esq. is listed at 13  Richmond Avenue in Thom’s Directory of 1898, 1899 and 1900, the property is listed as vacant in 1897 and 1901. Hughes must be the lumbering Ulsterman that Stanislaus describes. The Joyce and Hughes families must have got on as they moved together to the next property, the short distance to the north in Royal Terrace, where they can be found in the Census of 1901.

The census of 1901 lists the west side of the Richmond Avenue as being in Drumcondra and the east side in Clontart West. The house numbers changed dramatically over the years and I had to track Thom’s Directory from 1846 to 2012, as well as the earlier Almanack’s from 1800 and Pettigrew & Oulton’s Dublin Almanac’s from 1834 to 1846 to try and find out where the 13 Richmond Avenue of 1899 was located in 2019.

The Valuations Office has books of records for Dublin. In the Drumcondra 1895-1902 Book 1, Richmond Avenue (West Side) is listed as being in the Townland of Richmond, in the Barony of Coolock, in the Parish of Clonturk, in the Union of North Dublin and lastly in the Electoral Division of Drumcondra. It all reminds me of Stephen’s address in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, 

Stephen Dedalus
Class of Elements
Clongowes Wood College
County Kildare
The World
The Universe

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 13).

At 28l, number 13 had the highest valuation for a house on the street, so that was a significant clue as to its size.

Michael Butler is listed at this address in Thom’s Directory immediately after R.E. Hughes left, occupying it until Thom’s Directory of 1913 when William Clarke, Building Contractor moved in. Clarke occupied it until 1952, including when it changed from number 13 to number 10 when the entire avenue was renumbered when it was incorporated into Dublin City. In Thom’s Directory of 1952 lists a change to Hodgins Limited Building contractor.

Despite the fact that most commentators state that the house Joyce lived in on Richmond Avenue has been destroyed, number 10 Richmond Avenue is still there and this house was formerly number 13 Richmond Avenue. Interestingly very late in the writing of this blog post, I read Patricia Hutchins, James Joyce’s Dublin, which was published in 1950. Like me, she seems to be a great fan of reading Thom’s Directories and she is also of the view that Joyce lived in what is now 10 Richmond Avenue.

   Although the family were also at 32 Glengarriff Parade during this period the house described in such detail in Stephen Hero, was probably 10 Richmond Avenue. At the time there were six acres of grounds; woods through which a stream ran, and one of Joyce’s sisters can remember running about there.

Patricia Hutchins, James Joyce’s Dublin (p. 62).

The property has been remodelled, but much of it still stands, including the main central section of the house at number 10. 8a used to more or less mirror number 8. There is a reprofiled roof with an attic roof and the facade has recently been altered, even since the Google Street images were taken. If you look at both Google Earth and Google Street View you can look at the property in three dimensions. You can do likewise with Apple Maps. Like much of the avenue the property is not in great shape. You can see it on Google Maps here.

Unlike North Richmond Street, I cannot find any direct reference to Richmond Avenue in Joyce’s writing. I thought it would appear in the list in Finnegans Wake, but if it is in there I cannot identify it. The stays at Convent Lane and Richmond Avenue were brief and forgotten by Joyce. Presumably, this is why they do not appear in his writing in any meaningful way.

Joyce was not the only interesting person to have lived on Richmond Avenue as I found out when I went through over a century of Thom’s Directories.

Edward Hely lived at 11 Richmond Avenue and is listed in Thom’s Directories of 1852 to 1859. He was part of the Hely Stationers, immortalised in Ulysses. The Company still exists, though on the Greenhills Road in Walkinstown. Joyce has Leopold Bloom staring work in Wisdom Hely’s, in Dame Street, the year he married Molly Bloom, getting laid off from there as well as all the other places as Molly states,

every time were just getting on right something happens and he puts his big foot in it in Thoms and Helys and Mr Cuffes and Drimmies either hes going to be run into prison over his old lottery tickets that was to be all our salvations or he goes and gives impudence well have him coming home with the sack soon

James Joyce. Ulysses (p. 635).

James Joyce moved to 13 Richmond Avenue in 1899. Some years earlier, on the 18th July 1874, Charles William St.John Burgess was born in the same house. Like Joyce, he went on to study in Belvedere College and the Medical School in Cecilia Street, where owing to his families financial details he withdrew from his studies, as his biographer Fergus O’Farrell notes,

    Charles left Belvedere in 1890 and, according to Tomás Ó Dochartaigh, enrolled in a pre-medical course in Cecila Street where he obtained a 1.1. in his first year. However, it seems that, due to his family’s ongoing financial difficulties, he terminated his education and began working with Hayes and Finch, an English-owned company that dealt in religious goods.

Fergus O’Farrell. Cathal Brugha (p. 8).

Few people know who Charles William St.John Burgess was. In 1908 he changed his name to Cathal Brugha and joined the Irish Republican Brotherhood. Cathal Brugha was to die in the Civil War on July 7th 1922, a few months after Ulysses was published. The lives of James Joyce and Cathal Brugha almost intersect, just like the streets named after them in the north inner city.

Joyce didn’t stay long at Richmond Avenue. In May 1900 at the age of 18, he moved with his family some 180m north, through the laneway to Royal Terrace, bringing the Hughes family with him. You can walk, or wheel a bicycle through as I do. As we do we pass 31 Richmond Avenue on our left.

I thought I had left Richmond Avenue behind but as I read Thom’s Directories the list of interesting people who lived and stayed in this house, formerly 10 Richmond Avenue increased. The connections between these two houses at 10 and 13 Richmond Avenue, the people who lived in them, their roles in creating the modern Irish State is fascinating.

It was from this house at 10 Richmond Avenue that Thomas Clarke left, travelling in the opposite direction that I am travelling, towards the GPO in O’Connell Street to take part in the Easter Rising in 1916. He was never to return to this, his family home.

In October 1914 he sold the Amiens Street shop and moved his family to Richmond Avenue in the middle-class inner suburb of Fairview. There he rented the street’s most desirable residence, a detached double-fronted early nineteenth-century house that was spacious and comfortable with rooms to spare and a garden where Tom could relax and take breakfast.

Michael T. Foy, Tom Clarke: The True Leader of the Easter Rising. (p.146).

    The Richmond Avenue house also accommodated Kathleen’s only brother, 24-year-old Ned Daly.

Michael T. Foy, Tom Clarke: The True Leader of the Easter Rising. (p.147).

Tom Clarke and his brother in law Ned Daly, the brother of his wife, Kathleen Clarke, both residents of 10 Richmond Avenue, were executed after the Easter Rising. They were the oldest and youngest of the rebels to be executed. It is possible that Joyce knew of Thomas Clarke. In A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man he writes,

The Irish fellows in Clarke’s gave them all a feed last night. They all ate curry.

James Joyce. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 185).

This passage refers to students celebrating their exams. Chester Anderson in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: Text, Criticism, and Notes, (p. 482, 535) spoke with Alf MacLochlainn, Keeper of Manuscripts in the National Library of Ireland in the summer of 1964, who suggested that this quote might refer to meetings in Tom Clarke’s shop in Great Britain Street. This seems possible but unlikely. Clarke did not return from America until 1908 when he opened his first shop at 55 Amiens Street on the 14th February, opening another at 75a Parnell Street, formerly Great Britain Street, a year later. As Joyce left Ireland in 1904 it is unlikely he ever met Clarke.

Thom’s Directory lists T.J. Clarke at 10 Richmond Avenue in 1916. William A. Mambrum is listed in Thom’s Directory at 10 Richmond Avenue in 1917 and 1918. He is also listed in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders section but no information is given as to what he which of these he might be.

In 1919 when house number 10 has changed to 31 Richmond Avenue, P.S. Hegarty is listed as the resident in Thom’s Directory. The P.S. Hegarty listed is, in fact, P.S. O’Hegarty, who was commonly known as Sarsfield. He was a classmate of Terence McSwiney, in the North Monastery in Cork. He moved to Dublin and like Thomas Clarke, he managed a shop, The Irish Bookshop at 45 Dawson Street.

Tom Clarke in a letter to his wife Kathleen on April 11th 1908, described O’Hegarty,

O’Hegarty you will best know as “Sarsfield” who wrote for the Republic and sometimes for the old United Irishman — the most dilapidated and careless-looking fellow you’d see — never dream there was anything in him.

Gerard MacAtasney, Tom Clarke: Life, Liberty, Revolution (p. 221).

O’Hegarty wrote the introduction to Tom Clarke’s Glimpses of an Irish Felon’s Prison Life. P. S. O’Hegarty is listed at 31 Richmond Avenue for a single year. In 1920 Thom’s Directory lists Mrs. T. J. Clarke, Tom Clarke’s widow at 31 Richmond Avenue and she remains listed here until Thom’s Directory of 1928 when the property is listed as let in flats. Kathleen Clarke welcomed many patriots to the house.

    On the morning of 18 September 1915, Seán MacDermott was due for release from Mountjoy Prison. A number of friends collected outside the prison gate to greet him. Tom and I were there, and took him home to Richmond Avenue. It was a glorious sunny morning, so we had breakfast in the garden, a thing Tom loved. Basking in the sunshine, Sean was thrilled with his freedom, the song of the birds, the peace of the garden and the beauty of the morning. 

Kathleen Clarke, Revolutionary Woman (p. 82).

In 1918 Kathleen Clarke was arrested in Richmond Avenue by two G-Men and was taken to Holloway Prison where she spent time with Constance Markievicz and Maud Gonne MacBride. Kathleen Clarke and Constance Markievicz made a very unlikely and decidedly odd couple in prison. In her biography Revolutionary Woman, Kathleen Clarke describes their relationship,

    When Madame Markievicz did talk to me in those early days, I sensed a certain amount of patronage in her tone and manner, and that I was not prepared to take from anybody. It appeared to worry her that such an insignificant person as myself was put in prison with her. Again and again she said to me, ‘Why on earth did they arrest such a quiet, insignificant person as you are?

Kathleen Clarke, Revolutionary Woman (p. 209).

The trio were joined in prison by Hanna Sheehy-Skeffington, a childhood friend of James Joyce and widow of his University friend Francis Sheehy-Skeffington who was murdered by a British Officer during the rising.  Hanna’s sister Mary married another University friend of Joyce’s Tom Kettle, who was killed in France in the Great War.

When Constance Markievicz was released, she picked up living with Kathleen Clarke in Richmond Avenue as she had in prison,

She engaged a maid for me, and lived in my home until my return from Limerick. Then she told me she would like to stay on with me, and I agreed. 

Kathleen Clarke, Revolutionary Woman (p. 221, 222).

In 1918 Countess Markievicz was to be the first woman to be elected to the House of Commons and Kathleen Clake was to become the first female Lord Mayor of Dublin in June 1939. Joyce had several connections with Lord Mayors of Irish cities.

Joyce wrote a poem about the Lord Mayor of Cork, Terence MacSwiney, The Right Heart in the Wrong Place, on a postcard to his brother Stanislaus on 27th August 1920, when MacSwiney was in the latter stages of his hunger strike,

The Right Heart in the Wrong Place

Of spinach and gammon
Bull’s full to the crupper,
White lice and black famine
Are the mayor of Cork’s supper
But the pride of Old Ireland
Must be damnably humbled
If a Joyce is found cleaning
The boots of a Rumbold


Letters of James Joyce Volume Three. Edited by Richard Ellmann (p.16).

Terence James MacSwiney on the baptismal register, but Terry always to his friends and to Cork generally, was born in Cork City on March 28th, 1879, and was baptized at the Church of SS, Peter and Paul.

P.S. O’Hegarty, A Short Memoir of Terence MacSwiney (p. 3).

The church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, where Terence MacSwiney was baptised is located just off and to the north of Patrick’s Street in the centre of Cork City and is where James Joyce’s paternal grandparents, James Augustine Joyce and Ellen O’Connell, were married on February 28th, 1848. You can read my blog post about Joyce and his Cork heritage, Stephen was once again seated beside his father, here.

Peter Paul McSwiney, who owned Clerys Department Store, was Lord Mayor of Dublin. He was a relative of Daniel O’Connell’s and was a first cousin of John Stanislas Joyce mother, Ellen O’Connell. Clerys is on O’Connell Street and is mentioned in Ulysses. Joyce was also a good friend in University with George Clancy, later the Mayor of Limerick who was murdered by the Auxiliaries in 1921. He forms the basis of the character Davin in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. John Stanislaus was friendly with Tim Harrington, another Corkman who was Lord Mayor of Dublin between 1901 and 1904, and who wrote a letter of introduction for James Joyce for his travels in Europe. In return finds him a position in Ulysses.

When Terence MacSwiney died, Oliver St. John Gogarty organised his death mask.

On the night of October 25th, 1920, Gogarty woke Albert Power, the sculptor, out of bed and made him catch the early boat to London, to sculpt MacSwiney’s death-mask. Gogarty paid fro both the journey and the execution of the mask.

Ulick O’Connor, Oliver St John Gogarty (p.168)

P.S. O’Hegarty wrote the short memoir of his friend Terence MacSwiney in 1920 and it was first published in 1922, the same year as Ulysses. As well as his connections to O’Hegarty who lived in 10 Richmond Avenue, Terence MacSwiney had connections to Cathal Brugha who was born in 13 Richmond Avenue.

Terence MacSwiney was a friend of Cathal Brugha’s and wrote to him on the 30th September 1920,

    Ah Cathal, the pain of Easter Week is properly dead at last.
    I wish I could say all that’s in my heart to thank you for your beautiful letters. God guard and preserve you for the future. God bless you again and again and God give you and yours long years of happiness under the glorious Republic.
    With all a comrade’s love, God bless you.

Dave Hannigan, Terence MacSwiney: The Hunger Strike that rocked an Empire (p. 166)

Not only were Terence MacSwiney and Cathal Brugha friends and comrades, their children, Maire MacSwiney and Ruairí Brugha married each other in Cork in July 1945.

It turns out there was a lot more in Mac Swiney’s friend, P.S. O’Hegarty, than Tom Clarke supposed, for as well as a biography of MacSwiney he also wrote one of the first favourable reviews of Ulysses in Ireland. The review was published in The Separatist in September 1922. O’Hegarty also admired Yeats, and his daughter Gráinne Ni hEigeartaigh married Yeats son, Michael. P.S. O’Hegarty did not just review Joyce’s Ulysses, he supported it,

He hailed Joyce’s Ulysses an instant masterpiece in defiance of the literary authorities who denounced it as immoral. Indeed, it must have been galling for a lover of great literature and an avid collector of books such as O’Hegarty to witness how Joyce felt unable to attend a literary conference in Dublin for fear of assassination. O’Hegarty supplied copies of the book during the 1930s to the publisher Quentin Keynes In America where it was banned and remained so until the 1950s.

Kieron Curtis, P.S. O’Hegarty (1879-1955): Sinn Féin Fenian. (p,55).

I quote part of the review here,

    I make the assertion, after reading this, that Mr Joyce loves Ireland, especially Dublin. I do not mean that it does it politically, or in any “wrap-the-green-flag” sense. But Ireland is all through him, and in him, and of him; and Dublin, its streets and its buildings and its people, he loves with the wholehearted affection of the artist. They are to him life and love and material. Every street in Dublin he knows and remembers, and every house, and every building, highways and byeways, palaces and hovels. He may live out of Dublin, but he will never get away from it.

P.S. O’Hegarty, The Separatist (p. 4).

I have copied out the review in full and if you would like to read it you can click here.

As well as the patriots listed above in connection with Richmond Avenue, James Joyce had well-known connections to Arthur Griffith, founder of Sinn Féin. I had not realised Joyce’s connections to numerous patriots all trying to create a new Ireland. Joyce chose an alternative path, one that I hope to return to.

Dublin was a small town and it seems that everyone knew everyone. For the moment we cycle on trying to find what edge of Dublin the city the elusive John Stanislaus Joyce has hidden away in.



House 12: 8 Royal Terrace

House 12: 8 Royal Terrace, Fairview, Dublin. May 1900 – Late 1901

Present Address: 8 Inverness Road, Dublin 3.

Eircode: D03 WC60

what3words: dome.aside.tend

1904 Valuation: 19l.

The Joyce and Hughes families moved to 8 Royal Terrace in May 1900. The Terrace was renamed Inverness Road after the Joyce family left. Names of roads and streets in Dublin and the changes, particularly after 1916 are complicated.

There is no reference to Inverness Road in the 1903 Thom’s Directory. In 1904 the former Rutland-place, Houses 1-8, become Inverness Road numbers 17-24, which are listed as a subset of Royal Terrace. In the 1917 Thom’s Directory houses 1-24 are all listed as Royal Terrace, Inverness Road. 1947 is the first year that Inverness Road appears as a full listing in Thom’s Directory, in the intervening years a search for Inverness Road will state, see Royal Terrace.

Joyce, John, Mr. 8 Royal-terrace, Off Philipsburgh avenue, Clontarf and Dollymount portion of Fairview is listed in the 1901 Thom’s Directory.

Mrs. Annie Talbot is listed at 8 Royal Terrace in Thom’s Directory 1900. The property is listed as vacant in Thom’s Directory 1902. Once again the Joyce stay was short, but memorable.

Having not been listed in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders section for the last six years Joyce, John Mr. reappears at 8 Royal-terrace for the next four, 1901, 1902, 1903 and 1904.

Joyce references the house at Royal Terrace in Finnegans Wake,

8 Royal Terrors. None so strait. Shutter up.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

This quote from the list in Finnegans Wake is straightforward as is the reference to Shutter up, which as well as referencing the process of leaving each house, references the incident mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, with the woman screeching behind the wall in the land behind Royal Terrace. He loved a good pun did Joyce.

    The lane behind the terrace was waterlogged and as he went down it slowly, choosing his steps amid heaps of wet rubbish, he heard a mad nun screeching in the nuns’ madhouse beyond the wall:
—Jesus! O Jesus! Jesus!

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 153).

The Joyce family stayed the night of Sunday 31st March 1901. You can see the census details on the National Archives website here. The ages of the children, the oldest being James at 19, are listed as 19, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, and 9. Not listed are May Joyce’s first born and two miscarriages. The list of children and short timespan between their births gives some idea of the physical strain that would have affected May Joyce’s body, never mind the mental anguish of providing for all of ten children in diminished circumstances.

As well as all of the Joyce’s, Robert E. Hughes, previously of Richmond Avenue. and his wife Rebecca E. Hughes and daughter Gertrude E. Hughes are also listed as living in the house at 8 Royal Terrace. You can see the details here. Who knows what the middle initial E. stood for, but they were all listed as Episcopalians.

There are a few interesting things to note on the census form. James and Stanislaus are listed as being the only members of the family able to speak Irish. Only the last child, Mabel was born in the City of Dublin, giving a direct indication of how John Stanislaus liked to live on the edge of town.

Soon the family were on the move again. Stanislaus describes the process,

    During this time, we had moved once more. My father’s method, whenever a landlord could not put up with him any longer and wanted to get rid of him, was to go to the landlord and say that it would be impossible for him with his rent in arrears to find a new house, and that it was indispensable that he should be able to show the receipts for the last few months’ rent of the house he was living in. Then the landlord, to get a bad tenant off his hands, would give him receipts for the unpaid rent of a few months, and with these my father would be able to inveigle some other landlord into letting him a house. In these auspicious circumstances we moved into a smaller house in a poorer neighbourhood.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 121, 122).

The next move took the Joyce family quite a distance from the cluster of houses by the Tolka, this time 2.5 km to the west, beside the Royal Canal.


House 13: 32 Glengarriff Parade.

House 13: 32 Glengarriff Parade, Dublin. Late 1901 – October 1902

Present Address: 10 Glengarriff Parade, Dublin 7.

Eircode: D07 NW82

what3words: trades.villa.noble

1904 Valuation: 14l.

Glengarriff Parade is a narrow street running east-west from the North Circular Road to the Royal Canal. It backs onto Mountjoy Prison. As Stanislaus Joyce wrote,

    Glengariff Parade was in a depressing neighbourhood.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 123).

Joyce, Mr. John is listed as living at Glengariff-parade in the Thom’s Directory of 1903. He is really spreading himself around as he is also listed at 8 Royal Terrace and 7 St. Peter’s Terrace. He is never listed in the Nobility, Gentry Merchants and Traders section at this address.

When Joyce lived in Glengarriff Parade the house was number 32. The street was renumbered and the house is now number 10. Karl Whitney writes amusingly about the renumbering in the Chapter James Joyce Lived Here in his entertaining book, Hidden City: Adventures and Explorations in Dublin. He travels to all of the same houses, but by public transport instead of by bicycle. Not only does the number on the house change but the spelling of Glengarriff varies, with different numbers of the letters r and f used by different people, including me.

I am again amused by the what3words reference, trades.villa.noble, the story of the Joyce moves in three simple words.

    Brief as our residence at each of our numerous addresses was, it was still long enough in most cases to be marked by a death in our family. At Millbourne Lane the boy Frederick died in the first weeks of his infancy. At Windsor Avenue another male infant came stillborn into the world, and while downstairs my father was, as usual, assuring the sober friend who had brought him home for the occasion, ‘By God, he’s not dead yet’, upstairs his last-born child was dead already. But at least these infants may be supposed not to have suffered. At Glengariff Parade, the youngest surviving son, Georgie, so named because he was born on the fourth of July, died of peritonitis following typhoid fever, in his fourteenth year, at the age when life, whatever it may be, is sweet to all.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 133).

James Joyce’s young brother George died in the house at Glengarriff Parade on 3rd May 1902, at the age of 14. In Stephen Hero, the death is fictionalised as that of Stephen Daedalus’s young sister Isabel. Joyce also wrote some epiphanies in relation to George, but this house is largely ignored in his published works. You can read about the epiphanies on the James Joyce Centre website, here.

  Stephen was present in the room when his sister died. As soon as her mother had been alarmed the priest was sent for. He was a diminutive man who carried his head mostly on his right shoulder and spoke in a lisping voice which was not very easily heard. He heard the girl’s confession and went away saying “Leave it to God: He knows best: leave it to God.”

James Joyce, Stephen Hero (p. 164).

The death of George does not get dramatised in any of Joyce’s major published works and the house is not named in the list in Finnegans Wake.  Perhaps it was too traumatic for Joyce to recreate the scene and his memories of the house were not happy ones. George died of peritonitis, which Joyce himself was later to die from. Tragic as the death of his brother George was in this house, his mother May was to die in the next, his last one.

In October 1902, James Joyce made this last house move with his family, moving 800m due west to 7 St. Peter’s Terrace.


House 14: 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace, Cabra.


House 14: 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace, Cabra. Note the only plaque on the Joyce northside houses.

House 14: 7 St. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra, Dublin. October 1902 – December 1902

Present Address: 5 St. Peter’s Road, Dublin 7.

Eircode: D07 YK49

what3words: bugs.wings.stick

1904 Valuation: 20l.

This was the last Joyce Family home that James Joyce lived in.

As Stanislaus Joyce says,

    Still another flitting, not the last, but the last that Jim took part in, deposited us at 7 St. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra—which in Irish means something like barren or blighted land.

Stanislaus Joyce, My Brother’s Keeper, James Joyce’s Early Years. (p. 140).

This is also the last house that we cycle to, though we still have to cycle home. A hundred yards to the north is Dalymount Park, home of Bohemians Football Club. I am feeling pleased about the length of our cycle before I realise that Oliver St. John Gogarty would cycle to here from school at Clongowes Wood, play a game of football and cycle back again. It is about the same distance overall, but he cycled on an old bicycle and played the game of football in between.

Joyce, Mr John is listed in the residential section of the street directory at 7 St. Peter’s terrace, Off Cabra-road, Phibsborough in the 1903, 1904 and 1905 Thom’s Directories.

In the 1904 Thom’s Directory, Joyce, John, Mr. is again listed twice in the Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders, in both 7 St. Peter’s ter. Phibsborough and 8 Royal terrace, Clontarf. In 1905 the last time he appears in this section it is at his house at 7 St. Peter’s Terrace.

The house number has been changed as has the name of the road. Joyce and others referred to the house as being in Cabra, today it would more commonly be referred to as being in Phibsborough. After James left, John Joyce remained with the dwindling family members for a few years before moving on.

In the 1911 Census of Ireland, John Stanislaus Joyce, Civil Service Pensioner is listed as living in 20 Sackville Place with his daughters Florence and Mabel Anna, boarding in a house with 12 others. You can see the return here.

James Joyce left for France from this house in December 1902, returning when his mother became ill. He returned to Saint Peter’s Terrace in April 1903 before leaving in December 1903 for 60 Shelbourne Road on the south side of the city. He lived in a succession of houses for brief periods before leaving permanently for the Continent with Nora Barnacle in October 1904.

It was not a happy home as never cheerful Stanislaus Joyce writes,

I call 7 S. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra, ‘Bleak House’.

Stanislaus Joyce, The Complete Diary of Stanislaus Joyce (p.39).

Joyce mentions the house in his list in Finnegans Wake and also in Ulysses,

7 Streetpetres. Since Cabranke.

James Joyce. Finnegans Wake (p. 420).

In Ulysses, Stephen thinks of,

of his sister Dilly (Delia) in his father’s house in Cabra.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 548).

This is the third family member that Stephen has thought of in houses that James Joyce lived in, each one kneeling and kindling fires for him.

Despite the increasing poverty of life as he and his family made their way to Cabra, it was the source of one of his great poems, written before he left Ireland in 1904.

He travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they know,
He drives his beasts above Cabra.

The voice tells them home is warm.
They moo and make brute music with their hoofs.
He drives them with a flowering branch before him,
Smoke pluming their foreheads.

Boor, bond of the herd,
Tonight stretch full by the fire!
I bleed by the black stream
For my torn bough!

Dublin, 1904

James Joyce. Poems and Shorter Writings (Page 51).

Travelling to each of these houses in succession, the decline in the Joyce family standing is quite evident. Much of the references above relate to Stephen Dedalus and the poverty of his surroundings together with biographical commentaries from Joyce family members about the decline in circumstances. It is one thing to read it, quite another to experience it as we have on our cycle.

The houses his family lived in meant a great deal to Joyce. He mentions the ones he lived in, but he also references others such as Ontario Terrace overlooking the Grand Canal where his parents lived and his mother gave birth for the first time.  He brings the experiences of his houses and their environs with him, in the way he carried the family portraits with him as he travelled through Europe, accompanied as he was by his ever-present piece of Ireland, Nora Barnacle.

Much as James Joyce described the reality of his residential experiences in Dublin he leaves it to Bloom in Ulysses to expound and idealise the family home,

In what ultimate ambition had all concurrent and consecutive ambitions now coalesced?

Not to inherit by right of primogeniture, gavelkind or borough English, or possess in perpetuity an extensive demesne of a sufficient number of acres, roods and perches, statute land measure (valuation £42), of grazing turbary surrounding a baronial hall with gatelodge and carriage drive nor, on the other hand, a terracehouse or semidetached villa, described as Rus in Urbe or Qui si sana, but to purchase by private treaty in fee simple a thatched bungalowshaped 2 storey dwellinghouse of southerly aspect, surmounted by vane and lightning conductor, connected with the earth, with porch covered by parasitic plants (ivy or Virginia creeper), halldoor, olive green, with smart carriage finish and neat doorbrasses, stucco front with gilt tracery at eaves and gable, rising, if possible, upon a gentle eminence with agreeable prospect from balcony with stone pillar parapet over unoccupied and unoccupyable interjacent pastures and standing in 5 or 6 acres of its own ground, at such a distance from the nearest public thoroughfare as to render its houselights visible at night above and through a quickset hornbeam hedge of topiary cutting, situate at a given point not less than 1 statute mile from the periphery of the metropolis, within a time limit of not more than 15 minutes from tram or train line (e.g., Dundrum, south, or Sutton, north, both localities equally reported by trial to resemble the terrestrial poles in being favourable climates for phthisical subjects), the premises to be held under feefarm grant, lease 999 years, the messuage to consist of 1 drawingroom with baywindow (2 lancets), thermometer affixed, 1 sittingroom, 4 bedrooms, 2 servants’ rooms, tiled kitchen with close range and scullery, lounge hall fitted with linen wallpresses, fumed oak sectional bookcase containing the Encyclopaedia Britannica and New Century Dictionary, transverse obsolete medieval and oriental weapons, dinner gong, alabaster lamp, bowl pendant, vulcanite automatic telephone receiver with adjacent directory, handtufted Axminster carpet with cream ground and trellis border, loo table with pillar and claw legs, hearth with massive firebrasses and ormolu mantel chronometer clock, guaranteed timekeeper with cathedral chime, barometer with hygrographic chart, comfortable lounge settees and corner fitments, upholstered in ruby plush with good springing and sunk centre, three banner Japanese screen and cuspidors (club style, rich winecoloured leather, gloss renewable with a minimum of labour by use of linseed oil and vinegar) and pyramidically prismatic central chandelier lustre, bentwood perch with fingertame parrot (expurgated language), embossed mural paper at 10/- per dozen with transverse swags of carmine floral design and top crown frieze, staircase, three continuous flights at successive right angles, of varnished cleargrained oak, treads and risers, newel, balusters and handrail, with steppedup panel dado, dressed with camphorated wax: bathroom, hot and cold supply, reclining and shower: water closet on mezzanine provided with opaque singlepane oblong window, tipup seat, bracket lamp, brass tierod and brace, armrests, footstool and artistic oleograph on inner face of door: ditto, plain: servants’ apartments with separate sanitary and hygienic necessaries for cook, general and betweenmaid (salary, rising by biennial unearned increments of £2, with comprehensive fidelity insurance, annual bonus (£1) and retiring allowance (based on the 65 system) after 30 years’ service), pantry, buttery, larder, refrigerator, outoffices, coal and wood cellarage with winebin (still and sparkling vintages) for distinguished guests, if entertained to dinner (evening dress), carbon monoxide gas supply throughout.

What additional attractions might the grounds contain?

As addenda, a tennis and fives court, a shrubbery, a glass summerhouse with tropical palms, equipped in the best botanical manner, a rockery with waterspray, a beehive arranged on humane principles, oval flowerbeds in rectangular grassplots set with eccentric ellipses of scarlet and chrome tulips, blue scillas, crocuses, polyanthus, sweet William, sweet pea, lily of the valley (bulbs obtainable from sir James W. Mackey (Limited) wholesale and retail seed and bulb merchants and nurserymen, agents for chemical manures, 23 Sackville street, upper), an orchard, kitchen garden and vinery protected against illegal trespassers by glasstopped mural enclosures, a lumbershed with padlock for various inventoried implements.


Eeltraps, lobsterpots, fishingrods, hatchet, steelyard, grindstone, clodcrusher, swatheturner, carriagesack, telescope ladder, 10 tooth rake, washing clogs, haytedder, tumbling rake, billhook, paintpot, brush, hoe and so on.

What improvements might be subsequently introduced?

A rabbitry and fowlrun, a dovecote, a botanical conservatory, 2 hammocks (lady’s and gentleman’s), a sundial shaded and sheltered by laburnum or lilac trees, an exotically harmonically accorded Japanese tinkle gatebell affixed to left lateral gatepost, a capacious waterbutt, a lawnmower with side delivery and grassbox, a lawnsprinkler with hydraulic hose.

What facilities of transit were desirable?

When citybound frequent connection by train or tram from their respective intermediate station or terminal. When countrybound velocipedes, a chainless freewheel roadster cycle with side basketcar attached, or draught conveyance, a donkey with wicker trap or smart phaeton with good working solidungular cob (roan gelding, 14 h).

What might be the name of this erigible or erected residence?

Bloom Cottage. Saint Leopold’s. Flowerville.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 585-587).

In April 1904, eight months after the death of his Mother May, James Joyce left the depleted Joyce family home for good. He returned for brief periods to stay with his father, notably in Fontenoy Street, but he was never again to live in the family home. He had made a new family with Nora Barnacle, and the continent of Europe was where they would live.

References Cited

Anderson, C.G. (1967) James Joyce and his World. London, United Kingdom: Thames & Hudson.

Bidwell, B. and Heffer, L. (1981) The Joycean Way: A Topographic Guide to ‘Dubliners’ & ‘A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man’. Dublin, Ireland: Wolfhound Press.

Bowker, G. (2012) James Joyce: A Biography. London, United Kingdom: Phoenix.

Clarke, K. (2008) Revolutionary Woman. Edited by Helen LittonDublin, Ireland: O’Brien Press.

Cosgrave, D. (2005) North Dublin, City and Environs. Dublin, Ireland: Nonsuch Publishing.

Costello, P. and Jackson, J.W. (1998) John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father. London, United Kingdom: Fourth Estate.

Colum, M. and Colum, P. (1959) Our Friend  James Joyce. London, United Kingdom: Victor Gollancz Limited.

Curran, C.P. (1968) James Joyce Remembered. London: Oxford University Press.

Curtis, K. (2010) P.S. O’Hegarty (1879-1955): Sinn Féin Fenian. London, United Kingdom: Anthem Press.

Ellmann, R. (1983) James Joyce: New and Revised Edition. New York, United States: Oxford University Press.

Foy, M.T. (2014) Tom Clarke: The True Leader of the Easter Rising. Dublin, Ireland: The History Press Ireland.

Hannigan, D. (2010) Terence MacSwiney: The Hunger Strike that rocked an Empire. Dublin, Ireland: O’Brien Press.

Hutchins, P. (1950) James Joyce’s Dublin. London, United Kingdom: The Grey Walls Press.

Igoe, V. (2006) James Joyce’s Dublin Houses and Nora Barnacle’s Galway. Dublin, Ireland: Lilliput Press.

Joyce, J. (1957) Letters of James Joyce Volume One. Edited by Stuart Gilbert. London, England: Faber & Faber.

Joyce, J. (1963) Stephen Hero. Edited by John J. Slocum and Herbert Cahoon. Introduction by Theodore Spencer edn. New York, United States: New Directions Publishing.

Joyce, J. (1966) Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. Edited by Richard Ellmann. London, England: Faber and Faber.

Joyce, J. (1966) Letters of James Joyce Volume Three. Edited by Richard Ellmann. London, England: Faber and Faber.

Joyce, J. (1975) Finnegans Wake. London, United Kingdom: Faber and Faber.

Joyce, J. (1977) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: Text, Criticism, and Notes. Edited by Chester G. Anderson. Middlesex, United Kingdom: Penguin Books.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2006) Dubliners, Authoritative Text, Contexts, Criticism. Edited by Margot Norris, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts Criticism. Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Joyce, S. (1994) The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce. Edited by George H. Healey. Dublin, Ireland: Anna Livia Press.

Joyce, S. (2003) My Brother’s Keeper: James Joyce’s Early Years. Edited by Richard Ellmann. Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States: Da Capo Press.

MacAtasney, G. (2013) Tom Clarke: Life, Liberty, Revolution. Kildare, Ireland: Merrion

McHugh, R. (2016) Annotations to Finnegans Wake: Fourth Edition. Baltimore, Maryland, United States: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Monaghan, K. (2005) Joyce’s Dublin Family. Dublin: The James Joyce Centre.

Naughton, L. (2016) Markievicz: A Most Outrageous Rebel. Kildare, Ireland: Merrion Press.

Norburn, R. (2004) A James Joyce Chronology. London, United Kingdom: Palgrave Macmillan.

O’Connor, U. (2000) Oliver St John Gogarty. Dublin, Ireland: O’Brien Press Ltd.

O’Farrell, F. (2018) Cathal Brugha. Dublin, Ireland: University College Press.

O’Hegarty, P.S. (1922) The Separatist: September 2nd 1922. Dublin

O’Hegarty, P.S. (2015) A Short Memoir of Terence MacSwiney. South Yarra, Victoria, Australia: Leopold Publishing.

Power, A. (1999) Conversations with James Joyce. Foreword by David Norris edn. Dublin, Ireland: The Lilliput Press.

St. John Gogarty, O. (1983) It isn’t this time of year at all! London, United Kingdom. Sphere Books Ltd.

St. John Gogarty, O. (1985) Intimations: Remembrances of Irishmen and Irish Life. London, United Kingdom. Sphere Books Ltd.

Whitney, K. (2014) Hidden City: Adventures and Explorations in Dublin. Dublin, Ireland: Penguin Ireland.

General Bibliography

Byrne, J.F. (1953) Silent Years: An Autobiography with Memoirs of James Joyce and Our Ireland. New York, United States: Farrar, Strauss and Young.

Costello, P. and Farmar, T. (1992) The Very Heart of the City: the Story of Denis Guiney & Clerys. Dublin, Ireland: Clery and Co (1941).

Igoe, V. (2016) The Real People of Joyce’s Ulysses: A Biographical Guide. Dublin, Ireland: University College Dublin Press.

Jordan, A.J. (n.d.) Arthur Griffith with James Joyce & WB Yeats: Liberating Ireland. Dublin, Ireland: Westport Books.

MacSwiney Brugha, M. (2006) History’s Daughter: A Memoir from the only child of Terence MacSwiney. Dublin, Ireland: O’Brien Press.

McCready, C.T. (1987) Dublin Street Names: Dates and Explained. Dublin, Ireland. Carraig Books.

The Dublin Almanac and General Register of Ireland  (1834-1846) Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Pettigrew & Oulton.

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1846-2012) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1904. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited).

There is a more extended bibliography of background material here.

Online References


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology / Technological University Dublin repository Arrowhere.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper


Eugene Roche and the staff at The Special Collections, James Joyce Library, University College Dublin, Belfield, Dublin 4.

The Berkely Library, The Library of Trinity College Dublin, Dublin 2.

Department of Early Printed Books and Special Collections, The Old Library, Trinity College Dublin, Dublin 2.

Richview Library, Richview, University College Dublin, Belfield, Dublin 4.

The staff at The Valuation Office, Abbey Street Lower, Dublin 1, Ireland.

On the cycle: Con Kennedy

For the bicycle: Paul Sexton

The following is a review of Ulysses, written by P.S. O’Hegarty and published in the newspaper, The Separatist. I transcribed the review from an original in the Trinity College rare Manuscript collection.

This blog post forms an appendix to the much longer post about James Joyce’s Houses, Why are we on the move again if it’s a fair question? that you can read here.

The Separatist, September 2nd, 1922


 Mr. Joyce’s Ulysses.

 Ulysses, by James Joyce. Paris 1922. Out of print.

When, having finished the last of the 732 big quarto pages which make up this book, I closed it and began to reflect on it, my reflections were many and mixed. There was in the first place delight at a great many things in the book, its uncannily intimate portrayals of character, that superb description of the funeral of Mr. Patrick Dignan, the whole panorama of Dublin and of Dublin people: and there was in the second place a certain amount of nausea at the unnecessarily prominent display accorded to expressions of the kind of that one which appears on the first page of the Portrait of the Artist, and there was in the third place a feeling of bewilderment at much of Mr. Joyce’s method in this book, at the amount it requires of his reader. But allowing for all that, the one impression which overtopped all was this, that whatever is to be said in dispraise of certain things in the book, whatever blame it may get because of its more-than-frankness, whatever outrages it commits on the somewhat staid sheath within which, up to now, English fiction has functioned, however disagreeable a taste might be left in the mind’s mouth, it has got to be admitted that here is a big book, perhaps the biggest book that’s ever been done in English in the form of fiction. Mr. Joyce has taken English language and has used as never before was used, and used it triumphantly; he has massed it and manoeuvred it as one masses men at army manoeuvres, and done it successfully. He has taken the old decorous, staid, old English prose, broken it up completely and remoulded it into a thing which is continental rather than English. He’s put into Ulysses not a story merely, but an epoch, the comedy and tragedy of many lives, and of the people of his own generation.

I make the assertion, after reading this, that Mr Joyce loves Ireland, especially Dublin. I do not mean that it does it politically, or in any “wrap-the-green-flag” sense. But Ireland is all through him, and in him, and of him; and Dublin, its streets and its buildings and its people, he loves with the whole-hearted affection of the artist. They are to him life and love and material. Every street in Dublin he knows and remembers, and every house, and every building, highways and byeways, palaces and hovels. He may live out of Dublin, but he will never get away from it.

When one considers the frankness, the exploration of all the depths, which is the foundation of this book, one has to ask oneself this question: Is it necessary? Could the book have been done, and could it have been as big as it is, without that? That is the test. And the answer to that is very clear. It could not. It is one of the triumphs of the book that has made artistic material out of the commonest vulgarities. One can point to many places where the frankness might be softened or omitted, but one has to admit that, on the whole, it is justified, and that the two triumphs of the book, the absolutely perfect portrayal of Leopold Bloom and Marion Bloom, would be impossible without it. At the end of the book one knows those two through and through. They are familiar figures, figures who become at once classic. The last chapter in the book, a chapter of 42 pages, wherein Mrs. Bloom’s thoughts of a night are set down, just as they come, without punctuation of any kind, without any trimming, with all the inconsequence in incompleteness with which thoughts come, seems to me to be the achievement of a master, one of the really big things in modern literature. It is disagreeable, if you will, but it gets there. It reveals in that short space, the whole life and character, mind and thought, development and future, of Mrs. Bloom. There is nothing like it in literature.

Ireland at present will probably not love Mr Joyce. But Mr Joyce has done her honour. No Englishman could have written this book, even if one had the wit to conceive the plan of it. Ireland, Dublin, is all over it, its idiom, its people, its streets, and its ways, its atmosphere, and its intellectual daring. Wilde, Shaw, Moore, Synge, Joyce! Could a country produce five artists of this calibre, with certain common intellectual abilities, if these did not really represent the mind of the country? Mr. Joyce, at any rate, has arrived. Like Arnold Bennett painter in “The Great Adventure,” he is entitled to the title of Master.

P.S. O’H.


Department of Early Printed Books and Special Collections, The Old Library, Trinity College Dublin, Dublin 2.


Hedigans: The Brian Boru

Hedigans, The Brian Boru

Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub. Save it they can’t.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 48).

James Joyce was fond of pubs, as was his father John Stanislaus, who drank the family inheritance away in them. His mother was no stranger to them either, having been born the daughter of a publican in the Eagle House Tavern in Terenure, formerly Roundtown, on the southern edge of Dublin.

Leopold Bloom posed his famous puzzle about crossing Dublin without passing a pub in the novel Ulysses, as he wandered out to buy a kidney for his breakfast on the morning of the 16th June 1904.

In May 2016 I worked out a route across Dublin without passing a pub. You can see the original blog post here. In late 2017, I started working out if you could cross Dublin by passing all of the pubs in Dublin that are mentioned in Ulysses and that still exist. This took rather longer than I expected. In large part, this is because lots of places we now routinely call pubs had different and more complex classifications in 1904.

Thom’s Directories classify Dublin. Amongst other things, Thom’s Directories list businesses, street addresses, nobility and gentry in Dublin on an annual basis. The introduction to my 1903 copy states:

Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the year 1903. Comprising British Foreign and Colonial Directories, Parliamentary Directory, Peerage, Baronetage and Knightage Directory, Naval and Military Directory, Statistics of Great Britain and Ireland. Government Offices’ Directory, University, Scientific and Medical Directory, Law Directory, Ecclesiastical Directory, Banking Directory, Postal Directory, County and Borough Directory, Lieutenancy and Magistracy of Ireland. Post Office Dublin City and County Directory.

We know that James Joyce used a copy of Thom’s Directory from 1904. This lists the following classifications of licensed premises where you could purchase alcohol:

Dining Rooms (see also Refreshment Rooms)

Grocers, &c. (See also Wine & Spirit Merchants)

Hotels and Proprietors

Refreshment Rooms (see also Dining Rooms)

Spirit Dealers (See also Wine and Spirit Merchants)

Taverns and Inns

Vintners and Publicans (See also Wine and Spirit Merchants, and Taverns.)

Wine and Spirit Merchants (See also Spirit and Tea Dealers and Vintners.)

These are the simple classifications. In The Story of the Irish Pub, Cian Molloy highlights the many different types of licensed premises in addition to the Spirit Grocer’s licence.

   Other valid licences in 1890 were a beer off-licence, a beer dealer’s licence, a spirit grocer’s off-licence, a spirit dealer’s licence, a methylated spirits licence, a shopkeeper’s wine off-licence, a wine dealer’s licence, a refreshment house wine and sweets on-licence, a sweet dealer’s off-licence, a theatre licence and a packet-boat licence.

Cian Molloy, The Story of the Irish Pub (p. 61).

Groceries were sold alongside alcohol, and it is difficult to separate out what we would know as a pub from a grocery shop. In Have ye no homes to go to? The history of the Irish Pub, Kevin Martin outlines how the mix of the grocery and the pub led to social problems.

In his 1902 paper presented to the Irish Temperance Society on ‘Licensing and Public-House Reform in Ireland’, William Lawson identified the problem of groceries mixed with draper’s shops, with licences to sell alcohol, as a particular social evil. In Dublin, 90 per cent of the trade was mixed in this way, which he felt allowed women to put drink on the grocery accounts and put families in debt. This type of pub – a spirit grocer – has played a significant role in the history of licensed premises in Ireland, and continues to be a design motif in new Irish pubs.

Kevin Martin, Have ye no homes to go to? The history of the Irish Pub (p. 83).

In Ulysses, various premises and proprietors are mentioned, and these are listed under several of the different classifications in Thom’s. By way of example, people drink in The Ormond which is listed under Hotels and Proprietors. We know that Mulligans of Poolbeg Street is a pub that has changed little over the years and features in the Dubliners short story Counterparts. It is categorised under Grocers, &c. in Thom’s Directory. Grocers &c. sounds like the most loosely defined of pubs, whereas we know Mulligans is the most definitive of pubs. The difficulty of definition is written about in Mulligan’s, Grand Old Pub of Poolbeg Street by Declan Dunne.

The nature and business carried on in previous times on the premises that Mulligan’s occupies is difficult to establish. It is described as a spirit grocer from its establishment in 1782 right up to the 1960’s. These traders were forbidden to allow alcohol to be consumed on the premises but were allowed to sell it.

Declan Dunne, Mulligan’s, Grand Old Pub of Poolbeg Street (p. 13).

We know from Counterparts that alcohol was served and consumed on the premises in the early 1900’s. As Dunne notes,

The term spirit grocer, then, has to be treated carefully. It is used in the text but it is important to bear in mind that while Mulligan’s was a spirit grocer by name, it was, at least from the 1860’s onwards, a pub by nature.

Declan Dunne, Mulligan’s, Grand Old Pub of Poolbeg Street (p. 13).

Alfred Millar interviewed by Kevin C. Kearns highlights another difficulty of judging what a premises was by its licence type,

“I started in the trade at 15 in the Red Bank restaurant on D’Olier Street. It was a public house and a restaurant.”

Kevin C. Kearns, Dublin Pub Life & Lore, an Oral History. (p. 155).

Pub Names

Joyce names actual Dublin streets, buildings and businesses throughout his works. When he wrote the later works of Ulysses and Finnegans Wake, he had been in exile for a long period and had more freedom to name real people and places. This was not always the case. He began to write Dubliners in July 1904 in Dublin. He had arguments with the proposed publisher George Roberts about using real names of pubs and publicans. On 23 August 1912 he wrote to his brother Stanislaus to outline his defence to Roberts for naming the pubs,

ii) Public houses are mentioned in four stories out of 15. In 3 of these stories the names are fictitious. In the 4th the names are real because the persons walk from place to place (Counterparts)

iii) Nothing happens in the public houses. People drink.

iv) I offered to take a car and go with Roberts, proofs in hand, to the 3 or 4 publicans really named and to the secretary of the railway co. He refused.

v) I said the publicans would be glad of the advertisement.

vi) I said that I would put in fictitious names for the few real ones but added that by so doing the selling value in Dublin of the book would go down.

James Joyce, Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. (p. 312).

It is interesting that Joyce wants to name the real pubs that people walk between, the journey being significant, and that he wanted to ground the story in the reality of place. So also, do I.


Having made some ground rules for my Cross Dublin Without Passing a Pub run, I do the same here.

Rule One: Make the run relevant

The first rule is that the route has to have some relevance to the writings of James Joyce, and or his actual life in Dublin. This rule pretty much defines all the runs in these blog posts.

In my Cross Dublin Without Passing a Pub, I decided to try to find a route from 5 St.Peter’s Road in Cabra, the Joyce family home on 1904, on the north-west side of the city to 60 Shelbourne Road, on the south-east side. We know that this is the journey that Joyce made when he moved out of the family home. For this run, I picked the pub closest to Cabra and the one closest to Shelbourne Road as the start and finishing points, so as to align with the start and finish points of the previous run and also align the run with a journey James Joyce made. In this case, the pubs are The Brian Boru in Glasnevin and The Oarsman in Ringsend.

Rule Two: What is a pub?

I decided that any licensed premises named in Ulysses that you can still buy a drink in would constitute a pub for the purposes of this blog post. Some are bars in hotels, like The Shelbourne, and some are more like coffee houses, such as the Eccles Townhouse, but I figured if you could freely walk in and buy a pint of Guinness in them, then they could be included.

Rule Three: Pass all of the Pub’s that are still pub’s

There are too many pubs to drink in all of them and then run across the City, even if for sanity and stability’s sake you only drank water. A few are abroad, one or two are not identifiable and at least one mentioned is as far south as Blackrock. So I excluded any pubs, not in Dublin City. I limited the run to those pubs still trading as pubs while trying to pass as many other former pubs as possible.

Rule Four: Try to limit the length to 21k

This blog is named after the half marathon distance. I try to keep any long runs to c.21km. This lead to a lot of editing of this running route. But that is half the fun. I kept the run to every pub I can find in Ulysses that is still trading, and that, plus some road closures on the day, pushed the run to c.22k.

The Route

It took a long time to figure out the route. Obviously, you have to read or listen to Ulysses, or in my case both. Ulysses Annotated by Don Gifford and Robert J. Seidman is another essential read, as it lists the addresses of most of the pubs in the text and gives brief notes. A lot of time was spent reading Thom’s directories of 1903 and 1904. I then travelled around Dublin identifying where the original pubs were and what the present use is. In the case of Davy Byrne’s this is quite easy, some like Crimmins, now The Malt House are a little more difficult to identify.

Not all of the pubs mentioned have continuously traded as pubs since Ulysses was written. Davy Byrne’s has had the same name since 1904 but has changed ownership and interior. The Bleeding Horse has changed names a few times, and Mary Mac’s, part of Alexander Keyes pub was a travel agent when I was in college.

Route Notes

It was very common for names of streets and house numbers to be changed in Dublin. I have noted some in the text. In the route descriptions and the list of pubs, I give the present name, the former name as mentioned in Ulysses, the listing in Thom’s and the present address.

I have used various Thom’s directories for historical information. Generally, I use the Thom’s directory of 1904, because we know Joyce used it and the Thom’s of 1903, because I own a copy, and have it on hand. All of the directories are available to read in the Dublin City Library and Archive, 138-144 Pearse Street, Dublin 2. D02 HE37.

In the descriptions below I have made reference to present day and historical Ordnance Survey digital maps available on and I have referred to the Historic Map 25 inch set from 1888 – 1913, which shows the layout of the city that most closely matches the layout of 16th June 1904. Google Street View and Apple Maps are useful tools.

I quote a passage or passages from Ulysses for each pub mentioned. Sometimes its short and sometimes I like the passage so much that I quote at length. I also give brief directional notes.

As part of the process and solely in the interests of research, I also visited each of the pubs still in existence to have a drink. Someone had to. I make occasional notes in the text about the pubs. I made several other trips to take photographs.

Right, enough of the research. Now for the running. Off we go.

The start of the pub run:

Pub One: Brian Boroimhe House

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Ryan, J. M., Prospect terrace, Glasnevin.

Present Use: Hedigans, The Brian Boru. 5 Prospect Avenue, Glasnevin, Dublin 9.

Mac Maloney says this pub has been in the ownership of the Hedigan family since 1904 (p.125), the year in which Ulysses is set. Popular after funerals due to its proximity to Glasnevin Cemetery, Paddy Dignam’s funeral cortège passes it, Joyce referring to it in its Irish Language title.

They drove on past Brian Boroimhe House. Near it now.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 82).

The pub is commonly known as Hedigan’s after the proprietor. Most of the pubs in Dublin and in this blog are named after the proprietor, rather than by a descriptive name.

Kevin Martin explains why.

  It became a legal requirement to display the proprietor’s name over the front door of the premises after legislation was passed in 1872. The legacy of this law is often cited as one of the unique features of an Irish pub. Often, a public house operates under a long-obsolete family name – a signature feature in the boom of ‘Irish Pubs’ outside Ireland. This change in legislation limited the previous inventive array of names in Dublin, The Sots Hole in Essex Street, The Wandering Jew in Castle Street, Three Candlesticks in King Street, House of Blazes in Aston Quay, The Blue Leg in High Street, The Holy Lamb in Cornmarket and the Golden Sugar Loaf in Abbey Street are all long defunct. Some pubs, such as The Bleeding Horse and The Brazen Head, kept both the family name and the original title.

Kevin Martin, Have ye no homes to go to? The history of the Irish Pub (p. 39).

I will pass both the Brazen Head and the Bleeding Horse, mentioned in the list above, on this run. The other pub names no longer exist. I head off from the Brian Boru, running directly south on Phibsborough Road.

Just over Cross Gunn’s Bridge, I cross the route of my previous blog post on pubs, Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub, which you can read, here.

Pub Two: Dunphy’s. 

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Doyle, John 160 & 161 Phibsborough road.

Vintners and Publicans: Doyle, John, 160 Phibsborough road.
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Doyle, John, 160 Phibsborough road.
Present Use: John Doyle, 160 Phibsborough Road, Phibsborough, Dublin 7.

Doyle’s is situated on what is now known as Doyle’s corner in Phibsborough, it used to be Dunphy’s corner and also Dunphy’s pub, which is how Joyce refers to it.

—And Martin Cunningham said, we wouldn’t have scenes like that when the hearse capsized round Dunphy’s and upset the coffin on to the road.
—That was terrible, Mr Power’s shocked face said, and the corpse fell about the road. Terrible! 
—First round Dunphy’s, Mr Dedalus said, nodding. Gordon Bennett cup.
—Praises be to God! Martin Cunningham said piously.
    Bom! Upset. A coffin bumped out onto the road. Burst open. Paddy Dignam shot out and rolling over stiff in the dust in a brown habit too large for him. Red face: grey now. Mouth fallen open. Asking what’s up now. Quite right to close it. Looks horrid open. Then the insides decompose quickly. Much better to close up all the orifices. Yes, also. With wax. The sphincter loose. Seal up all.
—Dunphy’s, Mr Power announced as the carriage turned right.
    Dunphy’s corner. Mourning coaches drawn up, drowning their grief. A pause by the wayside. Tiptop position for a pub. Expect we’ll pull up here on the way back to drink his health. Pass round the consolation. Elixir of life.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 81).

At the time of the run, in March 2018, the pub was undergoing another refurbishment, but I doubt the name or use will change. Bloom thinks it’s a great location for a pub and it is, even if the pub, before its current refurbishment, wasn’t. I turn the corner at Doyle’s and head east on the North Circular Road in the opposite direction to the passage of Paddy Dignam’s funeral cortège, the route of which features in my blog post At Walking Pace, which you can read, here.

Pub Three: McAuley’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: McAuley, Thos. 39 Dorset street, lower.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: McAulay, Thomas, 39 Dorset street, lr.
Present Use: The Big Tree, 33-40 Lower Dorset Street, Ballybough, Dublin 1.

Bloom is still obsessing about the location of pub’s when we pass our next pub, Mc Auley’s.

For instance McAuley’s down there: n.g. as position. Of course if they ran a tramline along the North Circular from the cattlemarket to the quays value would go up like a shot.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 47).

McAuley’s also features in the story Grace in Dubliners. Now called The Big Tree, it opens on irregular hours, principally around events in nearby Croke Park. A sign in the window says it opens for all matches and concerts. Perhaps Bloom was right, perhaps it is in a poor position, otherwise it would be open every day. It was the only pub closed every night I went there for my research. I don’t imagine I missed much.

I turn at McAuley’s and head southwest on from Dorset Street Lower, towards Dorset Street Upper.

Pub Four: Cassidy’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: Dorset-street Upper.
71 Cassidy, James M., g
rocer, tea, wine and spirit dealer—  ‘Dorset House’. 
Present Use: Kavanagh’s The Temple. 71 Upper Dorset Street, Dublin 1.

A bent hag crossed from Cassidy’s, clutching a naggin bottle by the neck.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 50).

Cassidy’s is now Kavanagh’s The Temple, and the bent hag is crossing over Dorset Street from Cassidy’s towards Larry O’Rourke’s, directly opposite, which is mentioned several times in Ulysses.

Pub Five: Larry O’Rourke’s.

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: Dorset-street Upper.
72 and 73 O’Rourke, Laur. g
rocer, and wine merchant, Eccles -st.
Present Use: Kavanagh’s The Temple. 71 Upper Dorset Street, Dublin 1.


The Eccles Townhouse. Formerly Larry O’Rourke’s

Larry O’Rourke’s has had several name changes, the last two being to the Aurora Gastropub and now it is the Eccles Townhouse, which is more like a bistro than a pub, with an atmosphere to match. It still serves a pint of Guinness so I can regard it as a pub. It features in Ulysses when Bloom enters the novel, and both the pub and Larry O’Rourke are mentioned several times throughout in relation to Bloom, Blazes Boylan, and Molly. O’Rourke’s is just a few doors down from the Bloom’s house at 7 Eccles Street.

    He approached Larry O’Rourke’s. From the cellar grating floated up the flabby gush of porter. Through the open doorway the bar squirted out whiffs of ginger, tea dust, biscuitmush. Good house, however: just the end of the city traffic.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 47).

With regard to these last three pubs, Bloom thinks Doyle’s is in a tiptop position, McAuley’s is in a not good position, and Larry O’Rourke’s is good, just at the end of the city traffic. Although I have run these pubs in sequence, Bloom’s thoughts on pub locations occur in separate chapters. It shows a consistency in the things Bloom thinks about, and obviously Joyce is aware of, in his native city. It also shows how creating a run can bring together thoughts and aspects of Dublin, scattered throughout the novel but rearranged in a different moving sequence in a way that a linear reading of Ulysses cannot.

Here are a few more quotes regarding O’Rourke’s and other characters in Ulysses, the onelegged sailor, Blazes Boylan, Molly Bloom and O’Rourke’s;

    A onelegged sailor crutched himself round MacConnell’s corner, skirting Rabaiotti’s icecream car, and jerked himself up Eccles street. Towards Larry O’Rourke, in shirtsleeves in his doorway, he growled unamiably:
—For England ….

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 185).

    By Larry O’Rourke’s, by Larry, bold Larry O’, Boylan swayed and Boylan turned.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 231).

my belly is a bit too big Ill have to knock off the stout at dinner or am I getting too fond of it the last they sent from ORourkes was as flat as a pancake he makes his money easy Larry

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 618).

I continue southwest on Dorset Street before turning southeast onto North Frederick Street, then downhill to Parnell Street east onto O’Connell, formerly Sackville, Street.

The Two Gallants came down here in Dubliners coming like my fellow runners and me, from a pub in Dorset StreetLenehan and Corley both reappear separately in Ulysses and later in this blog post.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Findlater, Alex & Co. ltd., 30 & 31 Sackville street, upper.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Findlater, Alexander & Co. (ltd.), 30 Sackville street, upper.
Present Use: Holiday Inn Express Hotel, 28-32 O’Connell Street Upper, Dublin 1. 

    Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the county Leitrim, rinsing empties and old man in the cellar. Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons. Then think of the competition. General thirst. Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub. Save it they can’t.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 48).

Bloom is musing again.

In the Little Review serialised edition of Ulysses, the passage above is significantly different and reads,

    Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the country eitrim, rinsing empties in the cellar. Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as publicans. Then think of the competition. Save it they can’t.

James Joyce, The Little ReviewUlysses” (p. 53).

Joyce clearly replaced the word publicans with Adam Findlaters and Dan Tallons, presumably to give them the additional status of magnates and politicians. Oddly the sentence about the puzzle is left out in the earlier version, but the Save it they can’t text is left in. Perhaps it was a printer’s error, or maybe Joyce is referring to the redheaded curates blossoming out. The sentence works either way.

I often assume some errors come from the fact that the book was initially typeset in France where English is at best, a second language, but the Little Review was printed in the United States, so errors like “country eitrim” instead of County Leitrim seem less understandable.

Findlater’s occupied nearly an entire block of Sackville Street, Now O’Connell Street, upper. There is an excellent website with details of the Findlater family and their history and business interests, here. There is a picture of the premises in 1923, here.

You could get a drink in the Holiday Inn that now occupies the site, but as the building has been entirely reconstructed, I have disregarded it.

I turn and head north-east, running briefly along Cathal Brugha Street, before turning south-east down Marlborough Street.

I pass the Pro-Cathedral and turn west along Cathedral Street heading for Brannigans.

Pub Six: Brannigans

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Nagle, Jas Joseph, 9 Cathedral street.

Spirit Dealers: Nagle, James J. and Co. 9 Cathedral street.
Present Use: Brannigans, 9 Cathedral Street, Dublin 1.

Pub Seven: Madigans

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Nagle, Jas Joseph. Nagle, & Co. 25 Earl street, north.

Wine and Spirit Dealers: Nagle, J. & Co. 25 Earl street, north
Present Use: Madigans, 25 North Earl Street, Dublin 1.

    Subsequently being not quite so down in the mouth after the two and six he got informed Stephen about a fellow by the name of Bags Comisky that he said Stephen knew well out of Fullam’s the shipchandler’s, bookkeeper there that used to be often round in Nagle’s back with O’Mara and a little chap with a stutter the name of Tighe. Anyhow he was lagged the night before last and fined ten bob for a drunk and disorderly and refusing to go with the constable.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 505).

The Nagle brothers Acky and Joe are mentioned in Ulysses. Joe Nagle owned pubs at 9 Cathedral Street and at 25 North Earl Street, and we pass them both in short sequence. It happens a few times on the run that I pass two pubs owned by the same publican that have the same name and that it cannot clearly be identified which one Joyce was referring to in Ulysses. In each case, I pass both.

Passing Brannigan’s I head to O’Connell Street, turning south for a block before I turn east on North Earl Street. I pass a statue of James Joyce along the way, somewhat haphazardly positioned. On the southern side of North Earl Street, across from Madigan’s is a vacant unit, formerly Meagher’s where Bloom played the role of the moneylender.

According to Christine Casey, Madigans (p. 232) was rebuilt in 1917-1919. Most of the buildings in this part of Dublin were destroyed in the rising of 1916.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Meagher, Philip, 4 North Earl street.

Taverns and Inns: Meagher, Philip, 4 Earl street, north.
Present Use: Awaiting redevelopment. 4 North Earl Street Dublin 1.

    Mr Bloom stood in his way.
—If you want to draw the cashier is just going to lunch, he said, pointing backward with his thumb.
—Did you? Hynes asked.
—Mm, Mr Bloom said. Look sharp and you’ll catch him.
—Thanks, old man, Hynes said. I’ll tap him too.
    He hurried eagerly on towards the Freeman’s Journal office.
    Three bob I lent him in Meagher’s. Three weeks. Third hint.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 99).

    O by the by that lotion. I knew there was something on my mind. Never went back and the soap not paid. Dislike carrying bottles like that hag this morning. Hynes might have paid me that three shillings. I could mention Meagher’s just to remind him. Still if he works that paragraph. Two and nine. Bad opinion of me he’ll have. Call tomorrow. How much do I owe you? Three and nine? Two and nine, sir. Ah. Might stop him giving credit another time. Lose your customers that way. Pubs do. Fellows run up a bill on the slate and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 307).

Bloom is still interested in pub economics.

I continue down North Earl Street and into Talbot Street.


Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: W. — Mabbot Street.
62 O’Beirne Bros. tea and wine merchants.
Present Use: Colvill House, Offices, Dublin 1.

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: W. — Talbot Street.
26 O’Beirne, Bros., family grocers and wine merchants.
Present Use: Colvill House, Offices, Dublin 1.

(A sinister figure leans on plaited legs against O’Beirne’s wall, a visage unknown, injected with dark mercury. From under a wideleaved sombrero the figure regards him with evil eye.)

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 356).

O’Beirne’s and Cormack’s were diagonally opposite each other at the entrance to Nighttown on Mabbot, now James Joyce, Street.

Publican Eugene O’Reilly is interviewed in Dublin Pub Life & Lore, an Oral History. 

“Anyhow I bought my first public house after I left McGill’s. I bought it from an old fella called Byrne. It was on the corner of Talbot Street and Corporation Street. This old fella was eight-something and it was a rough place and he was doing nothing in business…Now the pub was only a few hundred yards down from the Monto. It had a reputation for brothels…They were called kips…Back then droves and droves of these men were coming back from the war and all these unemployed men would be hanging outside my door there, standing around. ‘Corner boys’, we called them. They were all back over from England. These corner boys, they wouldn’t look well and they were a deterrent to trade.”

Kevin C. Kearns, Dublin Pub Life & Lore, an Oral History. (p. 160, 161)

The pub purchased is likely O’Beirne’s, as Corporation Street in 1904 was known as Mabbot Street, and is now James Joyce Street. It is interesting that Joyce has people hanging around on opposite corners, and they linger there for a long time, well past the war. Places get reputations and customs, and they can take a long time to change.

I turn the corner, heading a short distance north-east on James Joyce Street, before turning southeast on Foley, formerly Montgomery Street. At this point, I am heading for the greatest concentration of Joyce pubs in Ulysses, all mentioned in sequence as Stephen and Bloom pass them, and all still in existence as pubs. This says something about the area and the lack of change along Amiens Street, at the edge of the city centre.

Pub Eight: Cormack’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Cormack, Thomas, 74 Talbot street.
Present Use: 74 Talbot Public House. 74 Talbot Street, Dublin 1.

(He stands at Cormack’s corner, watching.)

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 355).

Cormack’s is now the Seventy Four, Talbot. I have lingered here, but pleasantly, inside in the Seventy Four. I can’t hang around watching this time.

Pub Nine: Dan Bergin’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Bergin, Daniel L., 46 Amiens street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Bergin, Daniel L., 46 Amiens street.
Present Use: Lloyd’s Public House. 46 Amiens Street, Dublin 1.

Accordingly after a few such preliminaries as brushing, in spite of his having forgotten to take up his rather soapsuddy handkerchief after it had done yeoman service in the shaving line, they both walked together along Beaver street or, more properly, lane as far as the farrier’s and the distinctly fetid atmosphere of the livery stables at the corner of Montgomery street where they made tracks to the left from thence debouching into Amiens street round by the corner of Dan Bergin’s.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 501).

Dan Bergin had two pubs, and each was mentioned separately. In addition to 46 Amiens Street, he had a pub at 17 North Strand Road, which Fr. Conmee passes in the episode Wandering Rocks. The area was bombed during the emergency in 1941. You can see and read about the damage, here.

What remained of Dan Bergin’s at 17 North Strand after the Luftwaffe left, was demolished. The site is now a local health centre. It is one of the places of Ulysses pubs that I do not pass on this run, though I do pass it on the Dubliners run that you can read about, here.

    Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin’s publichouse against the window of which two unlabouring men lounged. They saluted him and were saluted.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 182).

Pub Ten: Mullet’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Mullet, John, 45 Amiens street.
Present Use: Mullet’s Public House. 45 Amiens Street, Dublin 1.

Pub Eleven: The Signal House

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: W. — Amiens Street.
36 Hayden, Thos. F. family grocer and spirits merchant—The Signal House, and Great Northern tea and malt stores.
Present Use: J&M Cleary. 36 Amiens Street, Dublin 1.


J & M Cleary, formerly The Signal House

We are back with Bloom and Stephen, heading south along the western edge of Amiens Street. Next door to Lloyd’s is Mullet’s. The pub still has the same name as in Ulysses, though it changed a few times over the intervening years.

So, bevelling around by Mullet’s and the Signal House which they shortly reached, they proceeded perforce in the direction of Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom being handicapped by the circumstance that one of the back buttons of his trousers had, to vary the time-honoured adage, gone the way of all buttons though, entering thoroughly into the spirit of the thing, he heroically made light of the mischance.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 501, 502).

Mentioned in the quote above, Cleary’s is one of the pubs which has an interior probably little changed since Ulysses was written and is tucked in below the Loopline Railway bridge. If you want to really know Dublin pubs, you must visit Cleary’s.

Pub Twelve: The North Star

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: North Star, 26 to 30 Amiens street, J.C. Malone.
Present Use: The North Star Hotel. 26-30 Amiens Street, Dublin 1.

But as he confidently anticipated there was not a sign of a Jehu plying for hire anywhere to be seen except a fourwheeler, probably engaged by some fellows inside on the spree, outside the North Star hotel and there was no symptom of its budging a quarter of an inch when Mr Bloom, who was anything but a professional whistler, endeavoured to hail it by emitting a kind of whistle, holding his arms arched over his head, twice.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 501).

It’s late, and the streets are deserted as Bloom and Stephen move towards the River Liffey. The taxi rank mentioned in the novel has now moved from outside the North Star Hotel to across the street alongside Amiens Street Train station.

The North Star has undergone an extensive refurbishment recently and has moved upmarket. I continue southwards, crossing the bottom of Talbot Street.

Pub Thirteen: The Dock Tavern

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Taverns and Inns: Dock, 1 Store street, Edward Hall.
Present Use: The Brew Dock, 1 Store Street, Dublin 1.

They passed the main entrance of the Great Northern railway station, the starting point for Belfast, where of course all traffic was suspended at that late hour and passing the backdoor of the morgue (a not very enticing locality, not to say gruesome to a degree, more especially at night) ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in due course turned into Store street, famous for its C division police station.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 502).

Joyce describes the area as a not very enticing locality. He is right, and like his description of the dull inelegance of Capel street in Dubliners, it seems to me that some parts of cities do not change much, as evidenced by Capel Street and this part of the Dublin. Like Bloom and Stephen, I also pass the entrance to what is now Connolly Station on my way to the Dock Tavern. I turn right at the corner, heading along Store Street.

The back entrance to the morgue and the police station on Store Street are both still there, and I pass both, heading for Lower Abbey Street.

The Crown and Anchor

Post Office Annual Directory 1832 Listing
Hotels and Taverns: Crown & Anchor Tavern, 42 low. Abbey street.

And there sits uncle Chubb or Tomkin, as the case might be, the publican of the Crown and Anchor, in shirtsleeves, eating rumpsteak and onions.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 510).

The mention of the Crown and Anchor in Ulysses seems to refer to a prototypical pub in England. However, there was a Crown and Anchor pub in Dublin as listed in The Post Office Directory of 1832 (Appendix p. 84), at 42 Lower Abbey Street.

Joyce had an extensive knowledge of Dublin, and it may be that he had this pub in mind. The quote is from the Eumaeus episode of Ulysses where Bloom and Stephen are talking to the sailor, D B Murphy in the Cabman’s shelter by the Loopline Bridge, which is only a couple of hundred metres from the location of the real Crown and Anchor.

There was also a dice game called Crown and Anchor, popular with sailors, which is mentioned in the Circe episode.

The crowd bawls of dicers, crown and anchor players, thimbleriggers, broadsmen.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 467).

In Dublin, pubs are typically named and called after proprietors. There are a few pubs with descriptive names such as The Brazen Head, and there are very few with traditional names popular in England. This was not the case before 1872. In the 1850’s Dublin, there were two Prince of Wales pubs, as well as a Cock and Bull Inn.

Heading west on Lower Abbey Street I turn towards the Liffey Quays on Marlborough Street. At the Quays I turn right and head west on Eden Quay.

Mooneys sur mer

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: W. — Eden Quay.
3 Gerald Mooney, wine & spirit mer.
Present Use: The Carlyle Club Townhouse. Private Members Club, 3 Eden Quay, Dublin 1.

—I see, he said. I didn’t recognise him for the moment. I hear he is keeping very select company. Have you seen him lately?
    He had.
—I quaffed the nectarbowl with him this very day, said Lenehan. In Mooney’s en ville and in Mooney’s sur mer.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 216).

Gerald Mooney had two pubs in very close proximity, one on Middle Abbey Street and one on Eden Quay alongside the River Liffey. Lenehan has been to both with Stephen and in his usual manner has a jokey way of differentiating between the two locations.

Mooney’s sur mer overlooked the River Liffey and is now the Carlyle Club. You could probably get a drink in the Carlyle Club, in much the same way as you could in Bella Cohen’s in Nighttown, but I will disregard it.

I turn right and head north on the back lane that is Harbour Court, running under Wynn’s Hotel and onto Lower Abbey Street.

Pub Fourteen: Wynn’s Hotel

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Hotels and Proprietors: Commercial and Family (late Wynn’s) 35 and 36 Abbey street, lower.

Hotels and Proprietors: Wynn’s (now Murphy’s) 35, 36 and 37 Abbey street, lower.
Present Use: Wynn’s Hotel, 35-37 Lower Abbey Street, Dublin 1.


Wynn’s Hotel

Wynn’s, as the name suggests is a Hotel, but I have included all Hotels in my general descriptor of pubs. It’s a nice place for a quiet drink, popular with people coming to Dublin from the country.

Like many buildings in this area of the city, Wynn’s Hotel suffered significant damage in the 1916 rising. You can see a description and a picture of the original hotel on the Archiseek website, here.

an invitation to supper at Wynn’s (Murphy’s) Hotel, 35, 36 and 37 Lower Abbey street

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 605).

On the other side of Lower Abbey Street is The Ship.

The Ship

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Dining Rooms: Ship, 5 Abbey street, lower.

Grocers, &c.: Connery, W. and E., 5 Lower Abbey Street

Hotels and Proprietors: Ship, 5 Abbey street, lower.
Taverns and Inns: Ship, 5 Abbey street, lower. W. & E. Connery
Present Use: Ladbrookes Betting Shop, 5 Lower Abbey Street, Dublin 1.

The Ship is the first pub mentioned in Ulysses. It appears several times, in connection with Buck Mulligan, described by the name of its proprietor, Connery on one occasion.

—That fellow I was with in the Ship last night, said Buck Mulligan says you have g.p.i. He’s up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman. General paralysis of the insane!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 6).

—The Ship, Buck Mulligan cried. Half twelve.
—Good, Stephen said.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 19).

Have you drunk the four quid? The aunt is going to call your insubstantial father. Telegram! Malachi Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street. O, you peerless mummer! O, you priestified Kinchite!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 164).

    Joyfully he thrust message and envelope into a pocket but keened in a querulous brogue:
—It’s what I’m telling you, mister honey, it’s queer and sick we were, Haines and myself, the time himself brought it in. ‘Twas murmur we did for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I’m thinking, and he limp with leching. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery’s sitting civil waiting for pints apiece.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 164).

No doubt Joyce picked the Ship deliberately as the first pub as the journey of Telemachus begins, but he got the address incorrect as the Ship was at number 5, rather than number 6, Lower Abbey Street.

I previously wrote a blog post called He’s up in Dottyville with Conolly Norman that you can read here.

Mooney’s en ville

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Mooney and Co. (ltd.), 1 Abbey st. lower.
Present Use: Permanent TSB, 1 Abbey Street Lower, Dublin 1.

    I have money.
—Gentlemen, Stephen said. As the next motion on the agenda paper may I suggest that the house do now adjourn?
—You take my breath away. It is not perchance a French compliment? Mr O’Madden Burke asked. ‘Tis the hour, methinks, when the winejug, metaphorically speaking, is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry.
—That it be and is hereby resolutely resolved. All that are in favour say ay, Lenehan announced. The contrary no. I declare it carried. To which particular boosingshed …? My casting vote is: Mooney’s!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 118).

This will be Stephen’s first drink of the day. It will be far from his last.

I keep heading west across O’Connell Street.

Pub Fifteen: The Oval

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Egan, John, and Co., 78 Abbey street middle.

Present Use: The Oval. 78 Middle Abbey Street, Dublin 1.

jj21k TheOval

The Oval

—What’s that? Myles Crawford said with a start. Where are the other two gone?
—Who? the professor said, turning. They’ve gone round to the Oval for a drink. Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall. Came over last night.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 107).

The Oval has been trading on the site since 1822, although it was rebuilt after heavy damage sustained in 1916. There is a good article on the history of The Oval on its website, here. There is a great picture inside of the rebuilt pub standing along amongst vacant sites taken in the early 1920’s.

I continue on Middle Abbey Street, heading west.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Manning, T.J. 41 Abbey street, up. and 18 Liffey street, lower.

Vintners and Publicans: Manning, T.J. 41 Abbey street, upper, 18 Liffey street, lr.
Present Use: The Bagel Bar, 41 Upper Abbey Street, Dublin 1.

That horsepoliceman the day Joe Chamberlain was given his degree in Trinity he got a run for his money. My word he did! His horse’s hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street. Lucky I had the presence of mind to dive into Manning’s or I was souped. He did come a wallop, by George. Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 133).

Bloom has a lucky escape by diving into Manning’s, which is now a Bagel Bar. I head towards Little Britain Street, going north on Jervis Street, across Wolfe Tone Square, west on Mary’s Street and North on Capel Street.

Barney Kiernan’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Kiernan and Co., 8, 9 and 10 Britain street, little.

Wine and Spirit Merchant’s: Kiernan & Co., 8, 9 and 10 Britain st., lit.
Present Use: Vacant. Awaiting redevelopment.

    Done anyhow. Postal order, stamp. Postoffice lower down. Walk now. Enough. Barney Kiernan’s I promised to meet them. Dislike that job.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 230).

    A most interesting discussion took place in the ancient hall of Brian O’Ciarnain’s in Sraid na Bretaine Bheag under the auspices of Sluagh na b-Eireann, on the revival of ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and ancient Ireland, for the development of the race.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 260).

Barney Kiernan’s is the site of some of the best dialogue in Joyce’s writing. Joyce also refers to it by its name in the Irish language, Brian O’Ciarnain’s, the second pub after the Brian Boroimhe, where he does so. In the earlier Little Review Ulysses, it is simply O’Kiernan’s.

    A most interesting discussion took place in the ancient hall of the O’Kiernan’s under the auspices of Sluagh na b-Eireann, on the revival of ancient Gaelic sports and the importance of physical culture, as understood in ancient Greece and ancient Rome and ancient Ireland, for the development of the race.

James Joyce, The Little Review “Ulysses” (p.274).

I have passed here before in the blog post, I’ve a thirst on me I wouldn’t sell for half a crown, which you can read, here.

Barney Kiernan’s is one of the most interesting pubs in Ulysses but has not been a pub for a long time. I turn south on Little Green Street.


Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: N.—Green -street Little
4 and 5 Donohue and Smyth, grocers, tea, wine and spirit merchants. Donohue, John, Smyth, Peter.
Present Use: Noor & Madina Asian Foods Limited, 4-5 Little Green Street, Dublin 7.

    When, lo, there came about them all a great brightness and they beheld the chariot wherein He stood ascend to heaven. And they beheld Him in the chariot, clothed upon in the glory of the brightness, having raiment as of the sun, fair as the moon and terrible that for awe they durst not look upon Him. And there came a voice out of heaven, calling: Elijah! Elijah! And He answered with a main cry: Abba! Adonai! And they beheld Him even Him, ben Bloom Elijah, amid clouds of angels ascend to the glory of the brightness at an angle of fortyfive degrees over Donohue’s in Little Green street like a shot off a shovel.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 282, 283).

A chariot would indeed be handy, but no luck. I turn and head east on Mary’s Abbey.

James and Charles Kennedy

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Kennedy, James and Chas, 150 Capel st.

Present Use: Brother Hubbard’s Café, 31-32, Saint Mary’s Abbey, Dublin 7. Now redeveloped. 

    The reverend Hugh C. Love walked from the old chapterhouse of saint Mary’s abbey past James and Charles Kennedy’s, rectifiers, attended by Geraldines tall and personable, towards the Thosel beyond the ford of hurdles.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 201).

I turn and head south on Capel Street, before turning to head west along Ormond Quay when I reach the River Liffey.

At this point, I cross the route of a previous blog post about the smells of Dublin, Pprrpffrrppffff, which you can read, here.

The Ormond

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Ormond, 8 Up. Ormond Quay, Mrs. De Massey.
Present Use: Awaiting redevelopment.

—Mr Boylan! Hello! That gentleman from Sport was in looking for you. Mr Lenehan, yes. He said he’ll be in the Ormond at four. No, sir. Yes, sir. I’ll ring them up after five.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 189).

    Scaring eavesdropping boots croppy bootsboy Bloom in the Ormond hallway heard the growls and roars of bravo, fat backslapping, their boots all treading, boots not the boots the boy. General chorus off for a swill to wash it down. Glad I avoided.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 235).

Like Barney Kiernan’s the Ormond Hotel is semi-derelict, but like Kiernan’s, it is central to the novel in a way that many of the other pubs with only brief mentions are not. I try to include all the pubs that have dialogue or events taking place within them on this run, even if they have been redeveloped. Along Amiens Street, all of the pubs mentioned in Ulysses survive, but I have now passed several that have not.

I run along the quays heading west. I head north through Smithfield and up Manor and Prussia Streets as I head on my way to the City Arms Hotel.

I pass the corner of Arbour Hill, where the Cyclops episode opensthe point of a previous blog post, Alice the Elephant and the Fox and the Chicken that you can read about, here.

Pub Sixteen: City Arms Hotel

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: City Arms, 51 Prussia st., Miss O’Dowd.
Present Use: Clarke’s City Arms, 55 Prussia Street, Dublin 7.


Clarke’s City Arms

The City Arms Hotel is mentioned many times in Ulysses. Formerly the Dublin residence of the Jameson Family, the City Arms Hotel was an early residence for Leopold and Molly Bloom. Jameson’s, a whiskey, is mentioned, and drunk, on two occasions in Ulysses.

In curating this run, I have had to make a number of choices. I decided to include all place names in Ulysses that you can get a drink in, even if drinking is not mentioned. The City Arms Hotel is a good example of the choices made. Alcohol is not mentioned in relation to the City Arms Hotel, and at first glance, Clarke’s City Arms pub seems not to be integral to the house. However, if you go into the pub, and it is well worth going into, you can see that it extends at the back under the original house. It also appears on the Ordnance Survey Maps of the early eighteenth century.

—That will do , Mr Deasy said briskly. I wrote last night to Mr Field, M.P. There is a meeting of the cattletraders’ association today at the City Arms hotel. I asked him to lay my letter before the meeting. You see if you can get it into your two papers. What are they?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 29).

Hate people all round you. City Arms hotel table d’hôte she called it. Soup, joint and sweet. Never know whose thoughts you’re chewing.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 140).

The fat heap he married is a nice old phenomenon with a back on her like a ballalley. Time they were stopping up in the City Arms pisser Burke told me there was an old one there with a cracked loodheramaun of a nephew and Bloom trying to get the soft side of her doing the mollycoddle playing bézique to come in for a bit of the wampum in her will and not eating meat of a Friday because the old one was always thumping her craw and taking the lout out for a walk.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 251).

* Yes because he never did a thing like that before as ask to get his breakfast in bed with a couple of eggs since the City Arms hotel when he used to be pretending to be laid up with a sick voice doing his highness to make himself interesting to that of faggot Mrs Riordan that he thought he had a great leg of

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 608).

I dont know who he is with that other beauty Burke out of the City Arms hotel was there spying around as usual on the slip always where he wasnt wanted if there was a row on youd vomit a better face there was no love lost between us

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 629).

The City Arms Hotel and the next pub, Mr Crimmins are both quite far apart and on the edges of Dublin City in 1904. To get to the next pub, I head a short distance south on Prussia Street, southwest on Saint Joseph’s Street, south on Aughrim Street, west on Halliday Road, through Tobar Court, and down through Arbour Hill to the River Liffey. I cross the Liffey and head of Steeven’s Lane, at the top of which is The Malt House.

I cross the River Liffey. I have been to the northeast and northwest and now head to the southwest and southeast of Dublin. Joyce used all of the city for Ulysses, with the pubs distributed throughout.

Pub Seventeen: The Malt House

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Crimmins, W. C., 27 & 28 James’s street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Crimmins, W. C., 27 and 28 James’s street.
Present Use: The Malt House Public House. James’s Street, Dublin 8.

    From the sundial towards James’s gate walked Mr Kernan, pleased with the order he had booked for Pulbrook Robertson, boldly along James’s street, past Shackleton’s offices. Got around him all right. How do you do Mr Crimmins? First rate sir. I was afraid you might be up in your other establishment in Pimlico. How are things going? Just keeping alive. Lovely weather we’re having, Yes, indeed. Good for the country. Those farmers are always grumbling, I’ll just take a thimbleful of your best gin, Mr Crimmins. A small gin, sir. Yes, sir.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 196).

The Malt House is just to the west of Saint James’s Gate, the home of the Guinness Brewery, which is located on both sides of the road. On a run around the drinking establishments of Dublin, it’s good to pass the main brewery, having just come from the house of main whiskey distilling family. Guinness’s is mentioned several times in Ulysses.

I head south on Bridgefoot Street before travelling east on Oliver Bond Street. This street did not exist in Dublin in 1904, and I run through the site of the former Anchor Brewery the second largest brewery in Dublin, demolished in the 1930’s. To the south is the former Power’s Distillery.  I turn downhill and head north on Bridge Street Lower.

Pub Eighteen: The Brazen Head

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Brazen Head, 20 Bridge Street, lower.
Present Use: The Brazen Head, 20 Bridge Street Lower, Dublin 8.

    Corley at the first go-off was inclined to suspect it was something to do with Stephen being fired out of his digs for bringing in a bloody tart off the street. There was a dosshouse in Marlborough street, Mrs Maloney’s, but it was only a tanner touch and full of undesirables but McConachie told him you get a decent enough do in the Brazen Head over in Winetavern street (which was distantly suggestive to the person addressed of friar Bacon) for a bob. He was starving too though he hadn’t said a word about it.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 504, 505).

—Yes, that’s the best, he assured Stephen to whom for the matter of that Brazen Head or him or anywhere else was all more or less.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 538).

The address as described is incorrect as The Brazen Head is on Bridge Street, rather than Winetavern Street. Perhaps Joyce intends the character, McConachie, to make the error. I feel I made an error when I went to drink in the pub. Overpriced and overrated. I won’t be back.

From the Brazen Head, I head east along the quays, past Winetavern Street into Exchange Street Lower and onto Essex Gate.

Pub Nineteen: Kavanagh’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Kavanagh, James, 27 Parliament street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Kavanagh, James, 27 Parliament street.
Present Use: The Turks Head Public House, 27 Parliament Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2. 

    They went down Parliament street.
—There’s Jimmy Henry, Mr Power said, just heading for Kavanagh’s.
—Righto, Martin Cunningham said. Here goes.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 202).

Beyond Lundy Foot’s from the shaded door of Kavanagh’s winerooms John Wyse Nolan smiled with unseen coldness towards the lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of Ireland.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 208).

Kavanagh’s is much changed. Now the Turk’s Head, it has an interior dominated by bright mosaics.

I cross Parliament Street and head down East Essex Street. I am back running through the city centre, and locations and references become more dense. I am glad I am not running through Temple Bar late on a Friday night, as I would struggle to make it through the crowds, who can barely walk.

Pub Twenty: The Clarence

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Clarence Commercial Hotel (ltd.) 6 Wellington quay.
Present Use: The Clarence Hotel. 6 Wellington Quay, Dublin 2.

Eat first. I want. Not yet. At four, she said. Time ever passing. Clockhands turning. On. Where eat? The Clarence, Dolphin. On. For Raoul. Eat. If I net five guineas with those ads. The violet silk petticoats. Not yet. The sweets of sin.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 214).

On. Through Temple Bar, I pass the front of the former Dolphin Hotel as I pass the rear entrance to The Clarence Hotel. They are across the street from each other.

References to the Dolphin are complicated because there were two at opposite ends of the same block, at 45 to 49 East Essex Street and at 9 Sycamore Street, with the same proprietor Michael Nugent. The Dolphin Hotel at 45-48 East Essex Street is now The Family Law Courts. At the opposite end of the block alongside Sycamore Street, is the other, now Bad Bob’s.

The Dolphin

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Dolphin, 45 to 49 Essex street, east and 22 and 23 Crampton court, M. Nugent, Michael (limited).
Present Use: Dublin District Family Law Office, East Essex Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2

Pub Twenty-One: Bad Bob’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Nugent, Michael (ltd.), 34 to 37 Essex st.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Nugent, M. (ltd.) 34 to 37 Essex street, east.
Present Use: Bad Bob’s Public House, 35-37, East Essex Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2

    Going down the path of Sycamore street beside the Empire musichall Lenehan showed McCoy how the whole thing was. One of those manholes like a bloody gaspipe and there was the poor devil stuck down in it, half choked with sewer gas. Down went Tom Rochford anyhow, booky’s vest and all, with the rope round him. And be damned but he got the rope around the poor devil and the two were hauled up.
—The act of a hero, he said.   
At the Dolphin they halted to allow the ambulance car to gallop past them for Jervis street.
—This way, he said walking to the right. I want to pop into Lynam’s to see Sceptre’s starting price. What’s the time by your gold watch and chain?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 191).

On. I run on through Temple Bar.

Pub Twenty-Two:  O’Neill’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: S.—Essex -street East
29 O’Neill, J. J. tea & wine mer.
Present Use: The Norseman, 28E Essex Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2. 

McCoy peered into Marcus Tertius Moses’ sombre office, then at O’Neill’s clock.
—After three, he said. Who’s riding her?
—O’Madden, Lenehan said. And a game filly she is.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 191, 192).

The last two quotes follow on directly. O’Neill’s also features in Dubliners, one of several pubs to do so, and I pass it in the Dubliners run, He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly, which you can read, here.

The clock on O’Neill’s is long gone, but time is pressing, and I continue on.

Bolton’s Westmoreland House

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Bolton, William & Co., 36 Westmoreland street.
Present Use: Redeveloped as The Westin Hotel, College Green, Westmoreland Street, Dublin 2. 

He walked on past Bolton’s Westmoreland House. Tea. Tea. Tea. I forgot to tap Tom Kiernan.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 132).

Although you can get a drink in The Westin Hotel, the site has been comprehensively redeveloped since Bloom passed it. I exclude it from my list. I head straight across Westmoreland Street, and down Fleet Street.

The Star and Garter 

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Star and Garter. 16 D’Olierstreet, John Whelan.
Present Use: House of Colour Creative H
airdressing, 16 D’Olier Street, Dublin 2.

—Good day, sir, Stephen answered blushing. The letter is not mine. Mr Garrett Deasy asked me to…
—O, I know him, Myles Crawford said, and I knew his wife too. The bloodiest old tartar God ever made. By Jesus, she had the foot and mouth disease and no mistake! The night she threw the soup in the waiter’s face in the Star and Garter. Oho!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 109).

The Star and Garter was on the corner of Fleet and D’Olier Streets. I cross and head north towards the Liffey on D’Olier Street.

The Red Bank

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Hotels and Proprietors: Red Bank Restaurant, (Burdon Bindon’s), 19 and 20 D’Olier Street.
Taverns and Inns: Red Bank Restaurant, (ltd.), 19 and 20 D’Olier Street.
Present Use: Ashfield House Hostel, 19-20 D’Olier Street, Dublin 2.

    Plasto’s. Sir Philip Crampton’s memorial fountain bust. Who was he?
—How do you do? Martin Cunningham said, raising his palm to his brow in salute.
—He doesn’t see us, Mr Power said. Yes he does. How do you do?
—Who? Mr Dedalus asked.
—Blazes Boylan, Mr Power said. There he is airing his quiff.
    Just at that moment I was thinking.
    Mr. Dedalus bent across to salute. From the door of the Red Bank the white disc of a straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 76).

I like this quote. The memorial fountain sat at the junction of Great Brunswick, now Pearse, Street and D’Olier Street and was decorated with extravagant tropical leaves. I expect Joyce was aware of this when he wrote of Martin Cunningham raising his palm.

I come to the River Liffey and head east on Burgh Quay.

The Scotch House

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Weir, James & Co. (ltd.) 6 Burgh Quay.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Weir, James & Co. (ltd.) 6 & 7 Burgh Quay.
Present Use: Under redevelopment as offices. 6-7 Burgh Quay, Dublin 2. 

U. p: up. I’ll take my oath that’s Alf Bergan or Richie Goulding. Wrote it for a lark in the Scotch house I bet anything. Round to Menton’s Office. His oyster eyes staring at the postcard. Be a feast for the gods.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 131).

—I know you did, Dilly answered. Were you in the Scotch house now?
—I was not, then, Mr Dedalus said smiling. Was it the little nuns taught you to be so saucy? Here.
    He handed her a shilling.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 195).

Beside the Scotch House is the statue to Constable Patrick Sheahan who died while trying to save a man overcome with sewer gases. You can see the statue, here, and the pub and the statue, here. Joyce mentions the incident with regard to Tom Rochford, and you can read about the events and Tom Rochford, here.

Joyce must have liked the Scotch House. It appears in both Dubliners and Ulysses. If there is one Joyce pub I would want to bring back, this would be it.

I turn north on Hawkins Street, east on Poolbeg Street, south on Townsend Street and the east again on Pearse Street. When I get to Westland Row, I head south.

The Grosvenor

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Grosvenor, 5 Westland row, Mitchell & Co.
Present Use: Site redeveloped as part of Trinity College Dublin.

    Mr Bloom gazed across the road at the outsider drawn up against the door of the Grosvenor. The porter hoisted the valise up on the well. She stood still, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like her, searched his pockets for change. Stylish kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a day like this, looks like blanketcloth. Careless stand of her with her hands in those patch pockets. Like that haughty creature at the polo match. Women all for caste till you touch the spot. Handsome is and handsome does. Reserved about to yield. The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an honourable man. Possess her once take the starch out of her.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 60).

Bloom is watching a woman outside the Grosvenor Hotel. The hotel was located opposite Westland Row, now Pearse Street, station. The hotel was demolished and in its place are modern buildings forming part of Trinity College Dublin.

Pub Twenty-Three: Conway’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Conway, J. & Co., 31 & 32 Westland row.
Present Use: Kennedy’s Public House, 31-32 Westland Row, Dublin 2.


Kennedy’s, formerly Conway’s

—I was with Bob Doran, he’s on one of his periodical bends, and what do you call him Bantam Lyons. Just down there in Conway’s we were.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 60).

    Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom’s arms.

—I’ll risk it, he said. Here, thanks.
    He sped off towards Conway’s corner. God speed scut.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 70)

Bob Doran appears in Dubliners and pops up a few times in Ulysses. He was the punter sloping into the Empire, and he also appears in Barney Kiernan’s.

Kennedy’s was Conway’s in Ulysses. I used to know it as Kenney’s. According to Colm Quilligan in Dublin Literary Pub Crawl (p.98), it is because the “d” fell off the sign sometime around the 1990’s. The new name stuck, at least for people of my vintage.

The location is called Conway’s corner in Ulysses. Many corners in Dublin are named after pubs. Hanlon’s Corner, Leonard’s Corner, and Doyle’s Corner which was Dunphy’s corner in Ulysses. Somehow Conway’s corner has never become Kennedy’s corner.

This is a great pub. I plan to return regularly.

For now, I run eastwards on Fenian Street towards Holles Street.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Burke, John, 17 Holles street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Burke, John, 17 Holles street.
Present Use: Redeveloped as Lolly & Cooks, 18-24, Holles Street, Dublin 2

    Burke’s! outflings my lord Stephen, giving the cry, and a tag and bobtail of all them after, cockerel, jackanapes, welsher, pilldoctor, punctual Bloom at heels with a universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, bilbos, Panama hats and scabbards, Zermatt alpenstocks and what not. A dedale of lusty youth, noble every student there. Nurse Callan taken aback in the hallway cannot stay them nor smiling surgeon coming downstairs with news of placentation ended, a full pound if a milligramme. They hark him on. The door! It is open? Ha! They are out, tumultuously, off for a minute’s race, all bravely legging it, Burke’s of Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal. Dixon follows giving them sharp language but raps out an oath, he too, and on. Bloom stays with nurse a thought to send a kind word to happy mother and nurseling up there.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 345).

Burke’s was on the corner of Denzille, now Fenian Street and Holles Street. I turn the corner and run uphill, heading south on Holles Street and pass the famous maternity Hospital. Stephen and his companions drink in the Hospital, but it’s hardly a pub.

At Holles Street I cross my Dubliners 21kHe went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly, the blog post, which you can read about, here.

I head west on Merrion Square North, Merrion Square West and Merrion Street before turning to head west on Merrion Row and on to Stephen’s Green North.

Pub Twenty-Four: The Shelbourne Hotel

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Shelbourne, 27 to 31 Stephen’s green, north. Jury and Cotton.
Present Use: The Shelbourne Hotel, 27-31 Saint Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2.

FullSizeRender 9

The Shelbourne Hotel

Who is this she was like? O yes! Mrs Miriam Dandrade that sold me her old wraps and black underclothes in the Shelbourne Hotel. Divorced Spanish American. Didn’t take a feather out of her my handling them.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 132).

Ho! Ho! I have to laugh. That secondhand black operatop shift and short trunkleg naughties all split up the stitches at her last rape that Mrs Miriam Dandrade sold you from the Shelbourne hotel, eh?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 437).

The Shelbourne is one of the pubs in Ulysses also mentioned in Dubliners, where it features in the story After the Race. It might have been simpler if Bloom had just bought himself a drink.

I turn north on Kildare Street, before turning and heading westwards on Molesworth Street.


Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: S.—Molesworth-street
10 Doran, Michael, grocer, wine, and spirit merchant.
Present Use: Under redevelopment as offices, 10 Molesworth Street, Dublin 2.

    Walking by Doran’s publichouse he slid his hand between his waistcoat and trousers and, pulling aside his shirt gently, felt a slack fold of his belly. But I know it’s whitey yellow. Want to try in the dark to see.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 149)

This pub is long gone, and the site is being redeveloped again as offices. Bloom feels the slack fold of his belly. As part of this run I have had a drink in each of the pubs, so what I lost in the running training I gained immediately back in the drinking, and I too have a slack fold on my belly.

At the end of Molesworth Street, I head downhill, north on Dawson Street.

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Long, P. J., 52 Dawson street.

Wine and Spirit Merchant’s: Long, P. J., 52 Dawson street.
Present Use: Carluccio’s Restaurant, 
52 Dawson Street, Dublin 2. 

    Tour the south then. What about English wateringplaces?  Brighton, Margate. Piers by moonlight. Her voice floating out. Those lovely seaside girls. Against John Long’s a drowsing loafer lounged in heavy thought, gnawing a crusted knuckle. Handy man wants job. Small wages. Will eat anything.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 148).

I turn and head down Duke Street, heading west.

The Burton

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Hotels and Proprietors: Burton, 18 Duke street.

Refreshment Rooms: Burton, 18 Duke street.C. Gavin.
Taverns and Inns: Burton, The, 18 Duke street.
Present Use: Hayes & Jarvis Travel Agents, 18 Duke Street, Dublin 2.

I pass the Burton at 18 Duke Street, scene of some of the best descriptions in Ulysses, with the diners scaring off Leopold Bloom. They are long but best quoted at length.

     His heart astir he pushed in the door of the Burton restaurant. Stink gripped his trembling breath: pungent meatjuice, slush of greens. See the animals feed.
    Men, men, men.
    Perched on high stools by the bar, hats shoved back, at the tables calling for more bread no charge, swilling, wolfing gobfuls of sloppy food, their eyes bulging, wiping wetted moustaches. A pallid suetfaced young man polished his tumbler knife fork and spoon with his napkin. New set of microbes. A man with an infant’s saucestained napkin tucked round him shovelled gurgling soup down his gullet. A man spitting back on his plate: halfmasticated gristle: gums: no teeth to chewchewchew it. Chump chop from the grill. Bolting to get it over. Sad booser’s eyes. Bitten off more than he can chew. Am I like that? See ourselves as others see us. Hungry man is an angry man. Working tooth and jaw. Don’t! O! A bone! That last pagan king of Ireland Cormac in the schoolpoem choked himself at Sletty southward of the Boyne. Wonder what he was eating. Something galoptious. Saint Patrick converted him to Christianity. Couldn’t swallow it all however.
—Roast beef and cabbage.
—One stew.
    Smells of men. His gorge rose. Spaton sawdust, sweetish warmish cigarettesmoke, reek of plug, spilt beer, men’s beery piss, the stale of ferment.
    His gorge rose.
    Couldn’t eat a morsel here. Fellow sharpening knife and fork to eat all before him, old chap picking his tootles. Slight spasm, full, chewing the cud. Before and after. Grace after meals. Look on this picture then on that. Scoffing up stewgravy with sopping sippets of bread. Lick it off the plate, man! Get out of this.
    He gazed round the stooled and tabled eaters, tightening the wings of his nose.
—Two stouts here.
—One corned and cabbage.
    That fellow ramming a knifeful of cabbage down as if his life depended on it. Good stroke. Give me the fidgets to look. Safer to eat from his three hands. Tear it limb from limb. Second nature to him. Born with a silver knife in his mouth. That’s witty, I think. Or no. Silver means born rich. Born with a knife. But then the allusion is lost.
    An illgirt server gathered sticky clattering plates. Rock, the head bailiff, standing at the bar blew the foamy crown from his tankard. Well up: it splashed yellow near his boot. A diner, knife and fork upright, elbows on table, ready for a second helping stared towards the foodlift across his stained square of newspaper. Other chap telling him something with his mouth full. Sympathetic listener. Table talk. I munched hum un thu Unchster Bunk un Munchday. Ha? Did you, faith?
    Mr Bloom raised two fingers doubtfully to his lips. His eyes said:
—Not here. Don’t see him.
    Out. I hate dirty eaters.
    He backed towards the door. Get a light snack in Davy Byrne’s. Stopgap. Keep me going. Had a good breakfast.
—Roast and mashed here.
—Pint of stout.
    Every fellow for his own, tooth and nail. Gulp. Grub. Gulp. Gobstuff.
    He came out into clearer air and turned back towards Grafton street. Eat or be eaten. Kill! Kill!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 138, 139).

Bloom leaves and travels as I do, the short distance to Davy Byrne’s.

Pub Twenty-Five: Davy Byrne’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Byrne, David, 21 Duke Street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Byrne, David, 21 Duke Street.
Present Use: Davy Byrne’s, 21 Duke Street, Dublin 2.

    He entered Davy Byrne’s. Moral pub. He doesn’t chat. Stands a drink now and then. But in leapyear once in four. Cashed a cheque for me once.
    What will I take now? He drew his watch. Let me see now. Shandygaff?
—Hello, Bloom, Nosey Flynn said from his nook.
—Hello, Flynn.
—How’s things?
—Tiptop … Let me see. I’ll take a glass of burgundy and … let me see.
    Sardines on the shelves. Almost taste them by looking. Sandwich? Ham and his descendants musterred and bred there. Potted meats. What is home without Plumtree’s potted meat? Incomplete. What a stupid ad! Under the obituary notices they stuck it. All up a plumtree. Dignam’s potted meat. Cannibals would with lemon and rice. White missionary too salty. Like pickled pork. Expect the chief consumes the parts of honour. Ought to be tough from exercise. His wives in a row to watch the effect. There was a right royal old nigger. Who ate or something the somethings of the reverend Mr MacTrigger. With it an abode of bliss. Lord knows what concoction. Cauls mouldy tripes windpipes faked and minced up. Puzzle find the meat. Kosher. No meat and milk together. Hygiene that was what they call now. Yom Kippur fast spring cleaning of inside. Peace and war depend on some fellow’s digestion. Religions. Christmas turkeys and geese. Slaughter of innocents. Eat drink and be merry. Then casual wards full after. Heads bandaged. Cheese digests all but itself. Mity cheese.
—Have you a cheese sandwich?
—Yes, sir.
    Like a few olives too if they had them. Italian I prefer. Good glass of burgundy take away that. Lubricate. A nice salad, cool as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. Puts gusto into it. Pure olive oil. Milly served me that cutlet with a sprig of parsley. Take one Spanish onion. God made food, the devil the cooks. Devilled crab.
—Wife well?
—Quite well, thanks… A cheese sandwich, then. Gorgonzola, have you?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 140, 141).

There is more great dialogue happening in Davy Byrne’s, as well as the presence of the regular drinker, Nosey Flynn who was also there sitting in his usual corner as in Dubliners. Bloom sets up Davy Byrne’s for life, by having his Burgundy and Gorgonzola.

Davy Byrne’s is still serving glasses of Burgundy and Gorgonzola sandwiches. The exterior is similar to that of 1904, but the interior has been completely changed.

Oddly, Joyce gets the address wrong in the Ithaca episode in one of Bloom’s lists, placing it at 14 rather than 21. I am not sure why this would be. It cannot be easily explained as the mistake of a character in the novel.

Where had previous intimations of the result, effected or projected, been received by him?

In Bernard Kiernan’s licensed premises 8, 9 and 10 little Britain street: in David Byrne’s licensed premises, 14 Duke street: in O’Connell street lower, outside Graham Lemon’s when a dark man had placed in his hand a throwaway (subsequently thrown away), advertising Elijah, restorer of the church in Zion: 

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 552).

Joyce also refers to O’Connell Street rather than Sackville Street, even if it wasn’t officially renamed that until 1924. Perhaps Bloom’s, or Joyce’s Nationalist sympathies are coming through.

I started this piece on Davy Byrne’s with a passage by Joyce where he describes Davy Byrne’s character. In Kevin C. Kearns, Dublin Pub Life & Lore, an Oral History he interviews Michael Gill who describes Davy Byrne,

“And you take Davy Byrne, a most extraordinary man. Davy held court in his own place. And the story goes that he was making his will and was asked, ‘Did you make all that money filling pints?’ ‘No, not filling them.'”

Kevin C. Kearns, Dublin Pub Life & Lore, an Oral History. (p. 223).

Leaving Davy Byrne and his pub behind, I run on, turning right to head north on Grafton Street. I pass Adam Court, the back entrance to the Empire, now The Porterhouse Central.

Pub Twenty-Six: The Empire

Thom’s 1904 Listings

Dining Rooms: Empire Restaurant, 29 Nassau street.
Refreshment Rooms: Empire Restaurant, 29 Nassau street.
Present Use: The Porterhouse Central, 45-47 Nassau Street, Dublin 2.

Mr Bloom, quickbreathing, slowlier walking passed Adam court.
    With ha quiet keep quiet relief his eyes took note this is the street here middle of the day of Bob Doran’s bottle shoulders. On his annual bend, M’Coy said. They drink in order to say or do something or cherchez la femme. Up in the Coombe with chummies and streetwalkers and then the rest of the year sober as a judge.
Yes. Thought so. Sloping into the Empire. Gone. Plain soda would do him good.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 137).

We meet Bob Doran who appears in three pubs in Ulysses. He was also at Conway’s and in Barney Kiernan’s.

The Empire and now the Porterhouse Central stretch from Nassau Street southwards to the small lane that is Adam Court that runs eastwards off the bottom of Grafton Street. The nightclub, Lillie’s Bordello is located at the end of Adam Court. I talk about this in an earlier blog post, He knew the value of the name, here.

At the bottom of Grafton Street, I turn left and head west on Suffolk Street.

Pub Twenty-Seven: Slattery’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Slattery, Thomas J., 15 Suffolk street.
Present Use: O’Donoghue’s Public House, 15 Suffolk Street, Dublin 2. 

   Goodbye Ireland I’m going to Gort. So I just went round the back of the yard to pumpship and begob (hundred shillings to five) while I was letting off my (Throwaway twenty to) letting off my load gob says I to myself I knew he was uneasy in his (two pints off of Joe and one in Slattery’s off) in his mind to get off the mark to (hundred shillings is five quid) and when they were in the (dark horse) pisser Burke was telling me card party and letting on the child was sick (gob, must have done about a gallon) flabbyarse of a wife speaking down the tube she’s better or she’s (ow!) all a plan so he could vamoose with the pool if he won or (Jesus, full up I was) trading without a licence (ow!) Ireland my nation says he (hoik! phthook!) never be up to those bloody (there’s the last of it) Jerusalem (ah!) cuckoos.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 275).

A contentious selection this. Gifford and Seidman place Slattery’s at 28 Ship Street Great. But there was a Slattery’s at 15 Suffolk Street which seems to me to be a more likely reference. There is only a slight reference to the Slattery’s in the text. There are no pubs left in Great Ship Street, and I prefer to think of the reference as more likely to be this pub, which has been comprehensively redeveloped, as it is much closer to the city centre.

What a brilliant description of that essential aspect of pub life, as the narrator urinates and spits in the back of the yard.


Thom’s 1904 Listing
Refreshment Rooms: Jammet’s Restaurant, 27 St. Andrew st.
Present Use: Now H&M. 27 Saint Andrew’s Street, Dublin 2. 

I run on past the original site of Jammet’s, which is also mentioned in Dubliners as Corless’s.

Why that highclass whore in Jammet’s wore her veil only to her nose. Would you mind please telling me the right time? I’ll tell you the right time up a dark lane.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 304).

I have now passed two former sites of Jammet’s restaurant as it moved from here on Saint Andrew’s Street to Adam Court.

From Suffolk Street, I loop northwards down Church Lane onto College Green and Dame Street, before heading south on Trinity Street and onto Saint Andrew Street, all to pass the locations of some of Stephen’s drinking haunts.

Jury’s Hotel

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Hotels and Proprietors: Commercial and Family, 6 to 8 College green, Henry J. Jury.
Hotels and Proprietors: Jury’s Commercial and Family, 7 & 8 College green, Henry J. Jury.
Present Use: Now Offices under redevelopment.

    The muchtreasured and intricately embroidered ancient Irish facecloth attributed to Solomon of Droma and Manus Tomaltach og MacDonogh, authors of the Book of Ballymote, was then carefully produced and called forth prolonged admiration. No need to dwell on the legendary beauty of the cornerpieces, the acme of art, wherein one can distinctly discern each of the four evangelists in turn presenting to each of the four masters his evangelical symbol, a bogoak sceptre, a North American puma (a far nobler king of beasts than the British article, be it said in passing), a Kerry calf and a golden eagle from Carrantuohill. The scenes depicted on the emunctory field, showing our ancient duns and raths and cromlechs and grianauns and seats of learning and maledictive stones, are as wonderfully beautiful and the pigments as delicate as when the Sligo illuminators gave free rein to their artistic fantasy long long ago in the time of the Barmecides. Glendalough, the lovely lakes of Killarney, the ruins of Clonmacnois, Cong Abbey, Glen Inagh and the Twelve Pins, Ireland’s Eye, the Green Hills of Tallaght, Croagh Patrick, the brewery of Messrs Arthur Guinness, Son and Company (Limited), Lough Neagh’s banks, the vale of Ovoca, Isolde’s tower, the Mapas obelisk, Sir Patrick Dun’s hospital, Cape Clear, the glen of Aherlow, Lynch’s castle, the Scotch house, Rathdown Union Workhouse at Loughlinstown, Tullamore jail, Castleconnel rapids, Kilballymacshonakill, the cross at Monasterboice, Jury’s Hotel, S. Patrick’s Purgatory, the Salmon Leap, Maynooth college refectory, Curley’s hole, the three birthplaces of the first duke of Wellington, the rock of Cashel, the bog of Allen, the Henry Street Warehouse, Fingal’s Cave—all these moving scenes are still there for us today rendered more beautiful still by the waters of sorrow which have passed over them and by the rich incrustations of time.
—Show us over the drink, says I. Which is which?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 272).

This section is from one of the Cyclops episode’s long rambling lists. Amongst all the beauties of the landscape are the Guinness Brewery, The Scotch House and Jury’s Hotel, each of which I have now passed.

I run past the former sites of Jury’s, The Larchet, The Moira and The Bodega. All are close together, and all have been redeveloped.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Dining Rooms: Larchet’s Hotel and restaurant (late Franklin’s, 11 College green).
Hotels and Proprietors: Larchet’s Royal Commercial, 11 College green.
Refreshment Rooms: Larchet’s (late Franklin’s), 11 College green.
Present Use: Under redevelopment


Take a fool’s advice. All is not well. Work it out with the buttend of a pencil, like a good young idiot. Three pounds twelve you got, two notes, one sovereign, two crowns, if youth but knew. Mooney’s en ville, Mooney’s sur mer, the Moira, Larchet’s, Holles street hospital, Burke’s. Eh? I am watching you.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 423).

So it’s not just me looking at who drinks what and where. Here Philip Sober is keeping a close eye on Stephen’s drinking. I have now passed all of Stephen’s watering holes.

The Bodega

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Refreshment Rooms: Bodega, Commercial Buildings.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Bodega Co. The (ltd.) Commercial buildings, Dame street.
Present Use: Under redevelopment, Commercial Buildings, Dame Street, Dublin 2.

    Ben Dollard with a heavy list towards the shopfronts led them forward, his joyful fingers in the air.
—Come along with me to the subsheriff’s office he said. I want to show you the new beauty Rock has for a bailiff. He’s a cross between Lobengula and Lynchehaun. He’s well worth seeing, mind you. Come along. I saw John Henry Menton casually in the Bodega just now and it will cost me a fall if I don’t…Wait awhile…..We’re on the right lay, Bob, believe you me.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 201).

The Moira

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Moira, 15 Trinity street.
Present Use: 15 Trinity Street, Dublin 2. Now Pichet Restaurant.

    His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power’s goodlooking face. Greyish over the ears. Madame: smiling. I smiled back. A smile goes a long way. Only politeness perhaps. Nice fellow. Who knows is that true about the woman he keeps? Not pleasant for the wife. Yet they say, who was it told me, there is no carnal. You would imagine that would get played out pretty quick. Yes, it was Crofton met him one evening bring her a pound of rump steak.  Who was it she was? Barmaid in Jury’s. Or the Moira, was it?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 77).

Bloom is thinking about Mr Power’s adventures.

Pub Twenty-Eight: Ruggy O’Donohue’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: O’Donohue, M., 8 St. Andrew street and 23 Wicklow street.
Present Use:  The International Bar, 23 Wicklow Street, Dublin 2.


The International Bar

    Opposite Ruggy O’Donohue’s Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam, pawing the pound and a half of Mangan’s, late Fehrenbach’s, porksteaks he had been sent for, went along warm Wicklow street, dawdling.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 206).

I would not dawdle again in The International Bar, one of the most disappointing of Dublin pubs.

I run on down Exchequer Street, turning south on Dame Court, through the archway and west on Dame Street, before turning south at South Great George’s Street.


Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c: Andrews & Co., 21 and 22 Dame street.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Andrews & Co., 19 to 22 Dame street.
Present Use: Spar, 19 –  20 Dame Street, Dublin 2.

    He looked at the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Silverpowdered olive trees. Quiet long days: pruning, ripening. Olives are packed in jars, eh? I have a few left from Andrews. Molly spitting them out.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 49).

Andrews was located on the corner of South Great George’s Street, there is a good image of it, here. It sold all sorts of produce. Perhaps not strictly a pub, I mention it in passing.

Running through the city has involved a lot of twists and turns, but I am now on the long straight stretch south along South Great George’s Street, Aungier Street, Redmond’s Hill, Wexford Street, Camden Street and South Richmond Street to the Grand Canal. Lots of different names for one relatively short road.


Thom’s 1904 Listing
Vintners and Publicans: Rowe, A., 2 George’s street, great, south.
Present Use: Vacant site. 2 South Great George’s Street, Dublin 2. 

    He stood at Fleet Street crossing. Luncheon interval. A sixpenny at Rowe’s? Must look up that ad in the national library.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 132).

Rowe’s was situated at the bottom of South Great George’s Street, where there is now a vacant gap site. Like Amiens Street, the pubs that are mentioned in Ulysses along the length of South Great George’s Street, Aungier Street, Redmond’s Hill, Wexford Street and Camden Street Lower and Upper and Richmond Street, apart from this one, mostly remain. This perhaps indicates the difference in land values in the city centre to the outer inner city, as well as the destruction of the north city centre in 1916.

Daniel Tallon’s, 

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: S.—George’s-st. Grt. Sth.
46 Tallon, Daniel, grocer and wine merchant, and 57 Lr. Stephen-st.
Present Use: Dunnes Stores Offices, 46 South Great Georges Street, Dublin 2.

Then, lo and behold, they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 48).

We passed Adam Findlaters on the other side of the city in O’Connell Street. Adam Findlater and Dan Tallon were Dublin stalwarts. Dan Tallon was the Lord Mayor from 1898 – 1900. As Lord Mayor, he laid the foundation stone for the Parnell Monument in 1899, just across from Findlaters on what was then Upper Sackville Street.

Pub Twenty-Nine: Delahunt’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Delahunt, Jos., 92 Camden st. lr.
Present Use: Ryan’s 92 Lower Camden Street, Dublin 2.

Pub Thirty: Delahunt’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Delahunt, Jos., 42 Camden st. lr.
Present Use: Cassidy’s, 42 Lower Camden Street, Dublin 2.

Lenehan linked his arm warmly.
—But wait till I tell you, he said. We had a midnight lunch too after all the jollification and when we sallied forth it was blue o’clock the morning after the night before. Coming home it was a gorgeous winter’s night on the Featherbed Mountain. Bloom and Chris Callinan were on one side of the car and I was with the wife on the other. We started singing glees and duets: Lo, the early beam of morning. She was well primed with a good load of Delahunt’s port under her bellyband. Every jolt the bloody car gave I had her bumping up against me. Hell’s delights! She has a fine pair, God bless her. Like that.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 192, 193)

Lenehan is here walking with M’Coy, and in the next quote, we hear from Corley, who Lenehan walked through Dublin with, in the Two Gallants story in Dubliners. Things haven’t gone well for Corley, he is down on his luck, has fallen out with Lenehan, and after a chance encounter, Stephen ends up lending him a half-crown.

Delahunt’s features as a product rather than a place, but as Joseph Delahunt did own two pubs and they both still exist, I include them.

Pub Thirty-One: The Bleeding Horse

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: S.—Camden-street, Upper.
24 & 25 Ryan, J. & M., family grocers, tea, wine, and spirit merchants.
Present Use: The Bleeding Horse, 24-25 Upper Camden Street, Dublin 2.

—Thanks, Corley answered, you’re a gentleman. I will pay you back one time. Who’s that with you? I saw him a few times in the Bleeding Horse in Camden street with Boylan, the billsticker. You might put in a good word for us to get me taken on there. I’d carry a sandwich board only the girl in the office told me they’re full up for the next three weeks, man. God, you’ve to book ahead, man, you’d think it was for the Carl Rosa. I don’t give a shite anyway so long as I get a job, even as a crossing sweeper.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 505).

Corley sees Stephen with Bloom. Robert Martin Adams in Surface and Symbol: The Consistency of James Joyce’s Ulysses thinks it unlikely that Bloom would have met Boylan in the Bleeding Horse as it was far out of his neighbourhood, and a good deal lower that on the social scale than Barney Kiernan’s (p.205). I can’t entirely agree as the Jewish quarter is very near to the Bleeding Horse, on the south side of the city. Barney Kiernan’s despite being close to the courthouse on Little Green Street on the inner north side, seems no more desirable a location socially.

Perhaps I am judging this too much by a contemporary context.

I run on past The Bleeding House to where South Richmond Street meets the Grand Canal.

Pub Thirty-Two: J. and T. Davy

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Davy, J. and T., 2 Charlemont mall.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Davy, J. and T., 33 Richmond street , south, and 1 Charlemont mall.
Present Use: The Portobello Public House. 33 South Richmond Street, Dublin 2.

The imprevidibility of the future: once in the summer of 1898 he (Bloom) had marked a florin (2/-) with three notches on the milled edge and tendered it in payment of an account due to and received by J. and T. Davy, family grocers, 1 Charlemont Mall, Grand Canal, for circulation on the waters of civic finance, for possible, circuitous or direct, return.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 571).

The bar of the Portobello appears old, but it isn’t, I remember working on it in the 1980’s. I turn east on Charlemont Mall and run alongside the Grand Canal. Then I cross Charlemont Bridge to the other side of the canal before heading south on Upper Leeson Street.

Pub Thirty-Three: Davy’s publichouse.

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Davy, J. and T., 111 Leeson street, upper.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Davy, J. and T., 111 Leeson street, upper.
Present Use: The Leeson Lounge Public House. 148 Leeson Street Upper, Dublin 4.

The Leeson Lounge, formerly J. and T.  Davy’s is mentioned in Ulysses but in different ways in different editions.

—F to P is the route Skin-the-Goat drove the car for an alibi, Inchicore, Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerstown Park, Ranelagh. F.A.B.P. Got that? X is Davy’s publichouse in upper Leeson street.
    The professor came to the inner door.
—Bloom is at the telephone, he said.
—Tell him to go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Davy’s publichouse, see?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 112, 113).

—F to P is the route Skin-the-goat drove the car for an alibi. Inchicore, Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerstown Park, Ranelagh. F.A.B.P. Got that? X is Davy’s publichouse in upper Leeson street.
The professor came to the inner door.
—Bloom is at the telephone, he said.
—Tell him to go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Burke’s public house, see?

James Joyce, Ulysses, The 1922 Text (p. 131, 132).

—F to P is the route Skin-the-goat drove the car for an alibi. Inchicore, Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerstown Park, Ranelagh. F.A.B.P. Got that? X is Burke’s publichouse ‘n Baggot street.
    The professor came to the inner door.
—Bloom is at the telephone, he said.
—Tell him to go to hell, the editor said promptly. X is Burke’s publichouse, see?

James Joyce, The Little Review “Ulysses” (p. 115).

In the first quote from the Gabler edition of Ulysses, the pub where the Invincibles go to is Davy’s in Upper Leeson Street. In the earlier Little Review Ulysses, it is Burke’s of Baggot Street. In Ulysses, The 1922 Text it is a hybrid of both.

It was well-known that the Invincibles went to Davy’s in Leeson Street. It seems likely that the error being made, is being made twice by the editor in The Little Review in calling the pub Burke’s. However, written this way, it could be construed as an error by Joyce. In the 1922 text, the editor’s error and confusion are much more clearcut as he uses two different names for the same place in quick succession, Davy’s and Burke’s. It seems to me that the Gabler edition, in changing the discrepancy in names to having both references listed as Davy’s may be an overcorrection of the text and has hidden Joyce’s intentions.

Argue it amongst yourselves, I’ve got places to go and pubs to see.

It is not just names that change. As it happens, both the name and address of this pub have changed. The address in 1904 for J. and T. Davy’s, was 100 Leeson Street Upper, and is now The Leeson Lounge at number 148. The pub is in the same place, it is the numbering and name that changed.

This is the second pub owned by J & T Davy in quick succession. The family went on to found Davy Stockbrokers, leaving the licensed trade and their pubs behind them. I also leave the Leeson Lounge behind me, running off back to the canal by way of Sussex Terrace and heading east.

The next pub proves slightly difficult and highlights some of the complexities of this run. Tunney’s is mentioned several times in Ulysses. Just as there were several J & T Davy’s, there were two Tunney’s. It is generally assumed that Joyce refers to the one in Ringsend as it is closer to Sandymount where Paddy Dignam lived, but there is a chance that he also meant the one in Haddington Road. After all, it seems he referred to the two separate Dolphins in Essex Street. No matter, I will run past both. I head off along the southern edge of the Grand Canal towards Smyth’s of Haddington Road.

Pub Thirty-Four: Tunney’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Tunney, W.J.,10 Haddington road.
Present Use: Smyth’s Public House, 10 Haddington Road, Dublin 4.

I include Smyth’s pub, but I prefer to think of Tunney’s as the Oarsman rather than Smyth’s. I include the quotes relating to Tunney’s, there, in the last pub on my run, below. As it happens, I like to drink in both Smyth’s and the Oarsman, and I live between the two of them.

I run pass Smyth’s and head on down Haddington Road, turning right on Northumberland Road. At this point, I cross the point where Farrington in Dubliners is nearly home, which you can read about in my blog post Don’t beat me, pa! And I’ll…I’ll say a Hail Mary for you, here.

Pubs can be great fun, but alcohol can also have a downside. When I was researching pubs and pumpingship in Mulligan’s, the last pub that Farrington visited, I saw an advertisement that said A closed door shouldn’t hide domestic violence and that 2 in 5 people in Ireland know someone who has experienced domestic violence. The story Counterparts seems more accurately observed than ever.

Pub Thirty-Five: Keyes

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Keyes, Alexander, 5 and 6 Ball’s Bridge.
Present Use: Paddy Cullen’s and Mary Mac’s Public House, 14 Merrion Road, Ballsbridge, Dublin 4. 

    Mr Bloom admired the caretaker’s prosperous bulk. All want to be on good terms with him. Decent fellow, John O’Connell, real good sort. Keys: like Keyes’s ad: no fear of anyone getting out. No passout checks. Habeas corpus. I must see about that ad after the funeral. Did I write Ballsbridge on the envelope I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 88).

    Hello, placard. Mirus bazaar. His Excellency the lord lieutenant. Sixteenth. Today it is. In aid of funds for Mercer’s hospital. The Messiah was first given for that. Yes. Handel. What about going out there: Ballsbridge. Drop in on Keyes. No use sticking to him like a leech. Wear out my welcome. Sure to know someone on the gate.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 150).

Alexander Keyes owned 5 and 6 Ballsbridge. They became Fagan’s after 1904 and at some point in time number 5 became an office and 6 continued as a pub. They are now reunited as Mary Mac’s and Paddy Cullen’s. There is a great picture in Mary Mac’s of Fagan’s pub. You can see it if you go inside. It is at the rear, on the right-hand side. Interestingly it shows the pub with a decorative parapet. The decorative parapet no longer exists, nor did it exist in the early photograph from the National Library Flickr account here. Perhaps the pub was decorated for the Exhibition of 1907. More research.

One more pub to go. I planned to run down along the River Dodder towards Ringsend and the final pub. Due to flooding, the river path was closed, so I ran down Shelbourne Road instead. It has the advantage is that it passes one of Joyce’s residences at 60 Shelbourne Road, but is a much less enjoyable way to finish a long run.

I have now crossed both canals, the River Liffey and the River Dodder, which flows to the last pub in Ringsend.

Pub Thirty-Six: Tunney’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Tunney, W.J., 8 Bridge street, Ringsend.
Present Use: The Oarsman Public House, 8 Bridge Street, Ringsend, Dublin 4. 


The Oarsman, formerly Tunney’s

It was too blooming dull sitting in the parlour with Mrs Stoer and Mrs Quigley and Mrs MacDowell and the blind down and they all at their sniffles and sipping sups of the superior tawny sherry uncle Barney brought from Tunney’s. And they eating crumbs of the cottage fruitcake, jawing the whole blooming time and sighing.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 206).

The last night pa was boossed he was standing on the landing there bawling out for his boots to go out to Tunney’s for to boose more and he looked butty and short in his shirt. Never see him again. Death, that is. Pa is dead. My father is dead.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 207).

and it was Gerty who tacked up on the wall of that place where she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer’s christmas almanac

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 291).

(Mrs Dignam, widow woman, her snubnose and cheeks flushed with deathtalk, tears and Tunney’s tawny sherry, hurries by in her weeds, her bonnet awry, roughing and powdering her cheeks, lips and nose, a pen chivvying her brood of cygnets.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 463).

The quotes above show how intertwined the pub and grocery were. In one instance a bottle of sherry is purchased, in another Paddy Dignam wants to go to Tunney’s to drink, and in another Mr Tunney is described as a grocer.

The end of the run

On a run like this, it is not possible to run by every pub in Dublin mentioned in Ulysses. My original plan was to identify and run by every pub in Dublin still trading that is mentioned in Ulysses, and pass as many others as possible.

I ran past thirty-six pubs still in existence and did some research by visiting all of them in advance. Of these pubs, Delahunts, Nagles and Tunney’s have been included twice, with two different pubs in the same ownership. It is not clear which one Joyce meant.

In a novel as complex and layered with references as Ulysses is, it is always possible that I may have missed some pubs in the text but of those identified, I pass most of them. Of those that are still pubs, I pass all of them, which was the plan.

The ones that I don’t pass and the reasons that I don’t are:

Overseas: The Bar MacMahon, Paris, France

    Patrice, home on furlough, lapped warm milk with me in the bar MacMahon. Son of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 34).

There is a brasserie Mac Mahon at 17 Avenue Mac-Mahon, Paris. According to Robert Martin Adams, in Surface and Symbol, The Consistency of James Joyce’s Ulysses (p.148). Joyce initially used the name Minerva instead of Bar Mac Mahon in early drafts, changing to Bar MacMahon at a later stage. This was possibly because as he got to know Paris better, he may have found a more relevant Irish name.

Overseas: The Buckingham Palace Hotel, London, England

    James Stephens’ idea was the best. He knew them. Circles of ten so that a fellow couldn’t round on more than his own ring. Sinn Fein. Back out you get the knife. Hidden hand. Stay in. The firing squad. Turnkey’s daughter got him out of Richmond, off from Lusk. Putting up in the Buckingham Palace hotel under their very noses. Garibaldi.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 134).

Being overseas, I couldn’t quite run to these two, nor the next three, which are all outside of the City of Dublin.

Outside Dublin: The Queen’s Hotel, Ennis, County Clare

    Martin Cunningham whispered:
—I was in mortal agony with you talking of suicide before Bloom.
—What? Mr Power whispered. How so?
—His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham whispered. Had the Queen’s hotel in Ennis. You heard him say he was going to Clare. Anniversary.
—O God! Mr Power whispered. First I heard of it. Poisoned himself?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 84).

Outside Dublin: Breslin’s Hotel, Bray, County Wicklow

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Station Hotel, Bray (formerly Breslin’s).
Present Use: Redeveloped as The Ocean Bar and Platform Pizza, 7 Strand Road, Bray County 

The second in the coffeeroom of Breslin’s hotel on a rainy Sunday in the January of 1892, in the company of Stephen’s father and Stephen’s granduncle, Stephen being then 5 years older.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 556).

I didn’t think I could make it to Wicklow and Clare on this particular run. Likewise, I did not get to Blackrock to visit Jacob Halliday’s, which is now a retail establishment. Gifford notes that Breslin’s was called the Station Hotel by 1904, presumably Joyce remembers the name from his childhood, part of which he spent in Bray.

Outside Dublin City: Jacob Halliday, County Dublin

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocers, &c.: Halliday, Jacob, 38A, Main st., Blackrock.
Present Use: Thomas, P. Adam Auction Rooms, 38 Main Street, Blackrock, County Dublin. 

the real and personal estate of the late lamented Jacob Halliday, vintner, deceased

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 265).

Uncertain: O’Loughlin’s of Blackpitts

Thom’s 1904 Street Listing
Grocer and Spirit Merchants: O’Loughlin, J., 1 New Row South.
Present Use: Vivid Hair and Beauty, 1 Dean Street, Dublin 8.

Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O’Loughlin’s of Blackpitts

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 39).

I could not find any exact location for O’Loughlin’s. Gifford and Seidman think it was an unlicensed shebeen, in which case it would not be listed in any official directories or records.

The website, James Joyce Online Notes state that it refers to O’Loughlin’s of New Row South, which is an extension of Blackpitts. This seems plausible to me, but it is no longer a pub.

Unknown: The Three Jolly Topers

Gifford and Seidman (p.166) say that this pub is north of Dublin on the River Tolka. They are possibly referring to a pub called The Jolly Toper which was at Cardiffsbridge, near Finglas, and that you can see on the Ordnance Survey online map, here. I could not find any definitive references to the location, or actuality of, the Three Jolly Topers.

There is a traditional musical air called the Three Jolly Topers and you can read about it and hear it, here.

    Poor Mrs Purefoy! Methodist husband. Method in his madness. Saffron bun and milk and soda lunch in the educational dairy. Y. M. C. A. Eating with a stopwatch, thirtytwo chews to the minute. And still his muttonchop whiskers grew. Supposed to be well connected. Theodore’s cousin in Dublin Castle. One tony relative in every family. Hardy annuals he presents her with. Saw him out at the Three Jolly Topers marching along bareheaded and his eldest boy carrying one in a marketnet. The squallers. Poor thing! Then having to give the breast year after year all hours of the night. Selfish those t.t’s are. Dog in the manger. Only one lump of sugar in my tea, if you please.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 132).

It’s not just ladies underwear Bloom thinks about on his meanderings.

Unknown: shebeen in Bride street

Blind to the world up in a shebeen in Bride street after closing time, fornicating with two shawls and a bully on guard, drinking porter out of teacups.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 258).

Bob Doran makes another appearance, here in Bride street. Shebeen’s, being unlicensed pubs, are naturally are hard to trace. Shebeen comes from the Irish word síbin, which means illicit whiskey.

Unknown: Keogh’s

We had to search all of Holles street to find them till the chap in Keogh’s gave us his number. Remember?

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 221).

This quote may not even refer to a pub, and if it does it was possibly near Holles Street, but definitely not in South Anne Street, the site of the well known Kehoe’s pub. I searched all of Holles Street in Thom’s 1904, and there is no reference to a Keogh’s on the street listing. There are some Keogh’s listed as Nobility, Gentry, Merchants and Traders, but none with commercial premises near Holles Street.

Unlikely: Cahill’s

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Grocer’s &c.: Cahill, Timothy, 8 Liffey street, lower.
Present Use: Redeveloped as Spar, 8 Lower Liffey Street, Dublin 1.

From Cahill’s corner the reverend Hugh C. Love, M.A., made obeisance unperceived, mindful of lords deputies whose hands benignant had held of yore rich advowsons.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 207, 208).

Gifford and Seidman (p.285) disagree with Gunn and Hart (p.102) as to the location of Cahill’s. Gifford and Seidman refer to the letterpress printers at 35-36 Strand Street and Gunn and Hart refer to Cahill, Timothy listed as Grocers, &c. at 8 Liffey Street. Both are listed in Thom’s Directory of 1904.

Either way, they are a few doors from each other, but there is only a view of the quays from Timothy Cahill’s. It’s now a Spar convenience store, so I don’t run past it.

Uninteresting or redeveloped locations

I didn’t run past the following, mainly because they have been redeveloped and are uninteresting in themselves. I list them in order that I would have passed them, before editing them out of the run.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Gilbey, W. & A. 46 & 47 Sackville st. up.
Present Use: Offices, 46-47 Upper O’Connell Street, Dublin 1.

On the middle shelf a chipped eggcup containing pepper, a drum of table salt, four conglomerated black olives in oleaginous paper, an empty pot of Plumtree’s potted meat, an oval wicker basket bedded with fibre and containing one Jersey pear, a halfempty bottle of William Gilbey and Co’s white invalid port, half disrobed of its swathe of coralpink tissue paper, a packet of Epps’s soluble cocoa

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 552).

W. and A. Gilbey’s have more licensed listings in Thom’s than any other group. I run by a few on the run. In particular 54 Upper Dorset Street, 90 Talbot Street, 74 South Great George’s Street, none of which are pubs today. The headquarters was at 46 and 47 Sackville Street, now the top of O’Connell Street, which was diagonally across from Findlater’s, across from The Gresham Hotel. Gilbey’s, like Delahunt’s, is noted more for the product than the place, so is not really a pub from Ulysses.

The Arch, Molloy and O’Reilly, 32 Henry Street, Dublin 1. 

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Molloy and O’Reilly, The Arch, Henry street.
Present Use: Vodafone, Mobile Phone Shop, 32 Henry Street, Dublin 1.

What’s wrong with him? He said. He’s dead, he said. And, faith, he filled up. Is it Paddy Dignam? I said. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. I was with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it in the Arch. Yes, he said. He’s gone. He died on Monday, poor fellow. 

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 61).

As far as I can tell the original building had an arch in the front, the clue being in the title, and also in a photo that I saw online somewhere. This is no longer the case, and the building is a Vodafone mobile phone shop. It is on the opposite side of the Spire to North Earl Street that I run down instead.

Dan Bergin’s

Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Bergin, Daniel L., 17 North Strand road.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Bergin, Daniel L., 17 North Strand road.
Present Use: District Health Centre, North Strand Road, Dublin 1.

  Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin’s publichouse against the window of which two unlabouring men lounged. They saluted him and were saluted.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 182).

This site was bombed by the Luftwaffe in 1941, and nothing remains of the original premises. I decided to skip it on this run.

North City Dining Rooms

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: W. —Marlborough-street.
11 The North City Dining Rooms— Miss Kate Collins proprietress.
Present Use: Irish Life Centre, Marlborough Street, Dublin 1.

—They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at the north city diningrooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, proprietress. They purchase four and twenty ripe plums from a girl at the foot of Nelson’s pillar to take off the thirst of the brawn.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 119).

I came close to here, but I could not quite fit it in. Anyway, it was not really a pub and is now part of the redeveloped Irish Life Centre.

The Old Ireland Tavern

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: Old Ireland, 10 North wall quay.
Present Use: Citi, 10 North Wall Quay, Dublin 1.

So similarly he had a very shrewd suspicion that Mr Johnny Lever got rid of some £.s.d. in the course of his perambulations around the docks in the congenial atmosphere of the Old Ireland tavern, come back to Erin and so on.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 525).

The building is long demolished and is now the modern Citi offices. Not an interesting place to run by.


Thom’s 1904 Listings
Grocers, &c.: Crimmins, W. C., 61 Pimlico.

Wine and Spirit Merchants: Crimmins, W. C., 61 Pimlico.
Present Use: Pimlico Tavern, 61 Pimlico, Dublin 8.

How do you do Mr Crimmins? First rate sir. I was afraid you might be up in your other establishment in Pimlico.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 196).

This pub is not far from The Malt House that I drank in, and ran by. Both were owned by Mr Crimmins. The present building has been completely redeveloped, with no trace of the original mentioned in Ulysses. I leave it be.


Thom’s 1904 Listing
Wine and Spirit Merchants: Cantwell & McDonald
Present Use: The Picture Rooms, Photography Studio and Gallery, 12 Wellington Quay, Dublin 2.

By Cantwell’s offices roved Greaseabloom, by Ceppi’s virgins, bright of their oils. 

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 214).

This is on the Liffey Quay’s, near the front entrance to The Clarence Hotel and is no longer a pub.

Power’s, 18 Cope Street, Dublin 2. Now under redevelopment as the Central Plaza.

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: —Cope-street.
18 Power, John T., wholesale spirit merchant.
Present Use: Under redevelopment, 18 Cope Street, Dublin 2.

Jesus, I had to laugh at pisser Burke taking them off chewing the fat. And Bloom with his but don’t you see? and but on the other hand. And sure, more be token, the lout I’m told was in Power’s after, the blender’s, round in Cope street going home footless in a cab five times in the week after drinking his way through all the samples in the bloody establishment. Phenomenon!

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 251).

I edited out the former site of Power’s with the entire street being very different to that of 1904, with the Central Bank Development dominating the southern side. Power’s was a wholesale merchant, so probably not a place you could buy a drink to consume on the premises. Power’s was on the side of the former Central Bank of Ireland.

The Vegetarian

Thom’s 1904 Listing
Hotels and Proprietors: College Hotel and Restaurant, 3 and 4 College street.
Present Use: Redeveloped as The Westin Hotel, College Green, Westmoreland Street, Dublin 2. 

Ian Gunn and Clive Hart are of the view (p.41) that Bloom thinks that A.E. Russell and Lizzie Twigg have come from the College Hotel and Restaurant, The McCaughey Restaurant, Ltd. at 3 and 4 College Street. It has now been absorbed into the Westin Hotel as has almost all of the buildings on that block. I give it a miss.

His eyes followed the high figure in homespun, beard and bicycle, a listening woman at his side. Coming from the vegetarian. Only weggebobbles and fruit. Don’t eat a beefsteak. If you do the eyes of that cow will pursue you through all eternity. They say it’s healthier. Windandwatery though. Tried it. Keep you on the run all day. Bad as a bloater. Dreams all night. Why do they call that thing they gave me nutsteak? Nutarians. Fruitarians. To give you the idea you are eating rumpsteak. Absurd. Salty too. They cook in soda. Keep you sitting by the tap all night.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 136).

Finn’s hotel

Thom’s 1904 Listings, Dublin Street Directory: S.—Leinster-street.
1 and 2 Private hotel and restaurant, Finn, M. and R.
Present Use: Offices, 1-2 South Leinster Street, Dublin 2.

Striding past Finn’s hotel Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stared through a fierce eyeglass across the carriages at the head of Mr M. E. Solomons in the window of the Austro-Hungarian viceconsulate.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 209).

One of the most important Joycean locations is Finn’s Hotel on Nassau Street, where Nora Barnacle was staying when Joyce first met her. The sign for Finn’s Hotel can still be seen, fading on the gable of the former Hotel.

This is an interesting location and will be central to a future run.

So What?

What can we learn from all of this?

Interestingly there are 36 pubs still in existence, almost equally split on the northside and on the southside of Dublin. I think this shows that Joyce had a knowledge of both the north and south sides of the city, having lived on both. Interestingly when he got a chance to move from the family home, he immediately headed south, back across the river Liffey and onwards to continental Europe.

Dublin’s most authentic James Joyce pub

In his book Have ye no homes to go to?: The History of the Irish Pub, Kevin Martin notes that you can buy a James Joyce Irish Pub Award. And you can. It seems you can buy it here for €395.00. But does it have any validity, credibility or authenticity? Hardly. It gets the quote from Ulysses wrong for starters.


What is the most authentic Joyce pub? As part of this blog, I tried to find every pub in Ulysses and create a run past all of the ones that remain in existence as pubs. I also decided to go and have a drink in each one of them, on a different day and before the run took place. Research. Most of them I already had drunk in, some I had worked on, but some were new to me. It meant that preparing for this blog post was a bit of yin and yang, what calories I lost in the run, I gained back in the research.

The most famous pub in Ulysses is probably Davy Byrne’s. It continues with the same name and location as in the novel, albeit with a change of ownership. But importantly the inside has been entirely remodelled. Principally in the early 1940’s and probably to some extent several times since. I know that I worked on a refurbishment in the late 1980’s as I did with The Brian Boru and also The Portobello, all while working with David Crowley Architects.

Many pubs changed names, sometimes several times. O’Neills became Farrington’s and is now The Norseman. It probably had numerous other names over the last century. Some like Mullet’s changed their name, as Mullet’s did to Dooley’s before reverting back to Mullet’s. Many pubs in the north city centre like The Oval were completely rebuilt after 1916.

Does it matter if a pub is just mentioned in passing in Ulysses, does that make it authentic? In one sense, yes, but for me, the most authentic would have to be one in which significant dialogue took place. So Barney Kiernan’s, The Bar in the Ormond Hotel, and Davy Byrne’s would be the strongest candidates. However, the first two are closed awaiting redevelopment, and Davy Byrne’s has been redeveloped so that the inside bears no relationship to the pub frequented by Nosey Flynn in both Ulysses and Dubliners.

The most authentic James Joyce pub is not to be found in Ulysses at all. Instead, you will find it in the story Counterparts in Dubliners. There are great scenes as Farrington admires the English actress and arm wrestles the acrobat Weathers, without success. The pub has the same name, is in the same place, and is little changed over the century, the parlour room where the main action takes place is still in existence in the back of the bar. It is the essential James Joyce Dublin pub, and I ran by it on this run. That it is reputed to sell the best Guinness in all of Dublin is a bonus.

While the pub itself does not appear in Ulysses, its name features in the opening line.

My casting vote is: Mulligans!

References Cited

Adams, R.M. (1967) Surface and Symbol: The Consistency of James Joyce’s Ulysses. New York, United States: Oxford University Press.

Casey, C. (2005) Dublin: The City within the Grand and Royal Canals and the Circular Road, with the Phoenix Park. New Haven, Connecticut, United States: Yale University Press.

Dunne, D. (2015) Mulligan’s: Grand Old Pub of Poolbeg Street. Cork, Ireland: Mercier Press.

Gifford, D. and Seidman, R.J. (2008) Ulysses Annotated: Notes for James Joyce’s Ulysses. 2nd edn. Berkeley, California, United States: University of California Press.

Gunn, I. and Hart, C. (2004) James Joyce’s Dublin: A Topographical Guide to the Dublin of Ulysses. London, United Kingdom: Thames & Hudson.

Joyce, J. (1966) Letters of James Joyce Volume Two. Edited by Richard Ellmann. London, England: Faber and Faber.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2008) Ulysses, The 1922 Text. Edited by Jeri Johnson. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press.

Joyce, J. (2015) The Little Review ‘Ulysses’. Edited by Mark Gaipa, Sean Latham, and Robert Scholes. New Haven, CT, United States: Yale University Press.

Kearns, K.C. (1996) Dublin Pub Life and Lore: An Oral History Dublin, Ireland: Gill & Macmillan.

Martin, K. (2016) Have ye no homes to go to?: The History of the Irish Pub. Cork, Ireland: The Collins Press.

Maloney, M. (2012) The Dublin Pubspotter’s Guide. Dublin, Ireland: A & A. Farmar.

Molloy, C. (2002) The Story of the Irish Pub: An intoxicating history of the licensed trade in Ireland. Dublin, Ireland: The Liffey Press.

Nicholson, R. (2015) The Ulysses Guide. Dublin, Ireland: New Island Books.

Quilligan, C. (2013) Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, 3rd ed. Dublin, Ireland: Writers’ Ireland

The Post Office Annual Directory for 1832. Dublin, Ireland: John S. Folds

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1903) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1904. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited).

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1904) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1905. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited).

General Bibliography

Barich, B. (2009) A Pint of Plain, Tradition: Change and the fate of the Irish Pub. New York, Unites States: Walker Publishing Company Inc.

Malone, A. (2001) Historic Pubs of Dublin. Dublin, Ireland: New Island Books.

McCarthy, J.F. and Rose, D. (1991) Joyce’s Dublin: A Walking Guide to Ulysses. New York, United States: St. Martin’s Press.

Oldenburg, R. (1997) The Great Good Place: Cafés, Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Bars, Hair Salons and other hangouts of a community. Philadelphia, United States: Da Capo Press.

There is a more extended bibliography of background material here

Online References


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrowhere.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper


Helping me out in the Pubs: The two Jolly Brians, Colm, Donal, Emmet, Harry, James, Joe, John, Liam, Michelle, Naomi, Nuada, Pat, Patsy, Paula, Sean.

And on the run: Peter, Paul, and Donal.

10 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount.

    All waited. Then wheels were heard from in front, turning: then nearer: horses’ hoof. A jolt. Their carriage began to move, creaking and swaying. Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. The blinds of the avenue passed and number ten with its craped knocker, door ajar. At walking pace.

James Joyce, The Little Review “Ulysses” (p. 78).


9 Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount.

    All waited. Then wheels were heard from in front, turning: then nearer: horses’ hoof. A jolt. Their carriage began to move, creaking and swaying. Other hoofs and creaking wheels started behind. The blinds of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar. At walking pace.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 72).

Route map from

Route map from

The quotations above from Ulysses refer to the beginning of the funeral procession from Paddy Dignam’s house in Newbridge Avenue, Sandymount, from where it begins to make its way to Glasnevin Cemetery. The two quotes are identical save for the change in house number from number ten to number nine.

The first quote is from the book The Little Review “Ulysses” which gathers together the serialised Chapters of Ulysses from The Little Review. The episode was originally published in The Little Review in September 1918 and episodes were published as a book in 2015. The second, revised quote is from Ulysses as published in 1922.

Episode VI, known as the Hades Chapter was published in The Little Review in September 1918 in the United States. Episodes 1- XIV were published in serial form, but stopped before the book was complete, due to censorship issues. The full address of the house, as opposed to just the number of the house the procession is passing, 9 Newbridge Avenue, does not appear in print until Ulysses was published as a novel in 1922 where the address is listed in the Eumaeus episode towards the end of the book, when Bloom reads it in the obituary section of the Telegraph whilst in the cabman’s shelter near Butt Bridge.

Why did Joyce change the house numbers? In the Thom’s Directory of 1904, which Joyce used as a reference check for places and people listed in Ulysses, the house at 9 Newbridge Avenue is listed as vacant, whereas the house at 10 Newbridge Avenue is occupied by a Mr. P Gorman. Perhaps Joyce simply wanted to use an empty house in case of a law suit over the use of an occupied premises He had had more than enough trouble with Dubliners over similar issues. As the location was to be the scene of the death and removal of the occupant, Paddy Dignam, the issues were perhaps more sensitive than most.


36 Bengal Terrace, formerly 5 Bengal Terrace, Finglas.

This funeral procession begins with house numbers that were changed as Joyce’s writing developed. At the end of the Dignam funeral procession, as Glasnevin Cemetery is reached, a mistaken house location arises.

       Mr. Power pointed.
That is where Childs was murdered, he said. The last house.
—So it is , Mr Dedalus said. A gruesome case. Seymour Bushe got him off.
Murdered his brother. Or so they said.

—The crown had no evidence, Mr Power said.
—Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham added. That’s the maxim of the law. Better for ninety-nine guilty to escape than for one innocent person to be wrongfully condemned.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p.82).

The Childs murder did not take place in the last house, which was number 6 Bengal Terrace. The terrace consists of 6 houses as you can see in the image below. Thomas Childs lived in house number 5, the second last house in the terrace and the second house from the left in the image. Glasnevin Cemetery is immediately to the left of the photograph, adjoining the last house in the terrace. It could be that Joyce is mistaken, or it could be that he wants Simon Dedalus to be mistaken about the location of the Childs murder. Joyce knew Bengal Terrace well, as did his father, John Stanislaus Joyce, the model for Simon Dedalus. James Joyce’s aunt Josephine Giltrap’s family lived there.


Bengal Terrace, Finglas. Image from Apple Maps.

Thomas Childs was murdered on September 2nd 1899. His brother, Samuel Childs was charged with the murder. The Childs case is examined in-depth in Adrian Hardiman’s book, Joyce in Court, James Joyce and the Law.

Hardiman writes about the Giltrap’s.

   Josephine’s father, James Giltrap, a legal cost accountant, provides the first coincidental link between the Joyces and the Childs murder. On 1 September 1899, the day before Thomas Childs was killed, old James died in No.6 Bengal Terrace. His funeral left the house on the Monday and the preparations for it must have taken place over the weekend. The comings and goings of policemen, doctors, relatives and undertakers at No. 5 Bengal Terrace cannot have escaped the attention of mourners for Mr Giltrap, very probably including James Joyce. The inquest on Thomas Childs was opened in 5 Bengal Terrace on the day of Mr Giltrap’s funeral (where the jury viewed the body of Thomas Childs) and actually moved into number 6 to take evidence of a bedridden lady there.

Adrian Hardiman, Joyce in Court (p.155,156)

It seems that Thomas Childs only lived in the house for a year. Thomas Childs is listed as living there in Thom’s Directory 1899, whereas the house is listed as vacant in the Thom’s Directory 1900Thom’s Directory 1898 has a Mr. Edward Kelly living there, as he had done for a number of years.

Joyce changed the house numbers in Newbridge Avenue as the writing of Ulysses moved towards the novel’s  publication. He may have made an error in describing the Child’s house as the last house in Bengal Terrace. But he was not alone. Although Hardiman writes that the Giltrap’s lived in Number 6, Thom’s Directory 1899 lists Thomas Childs as living in Number 5 and a John H. Giltrap as living in number 3 Bengal Terrace, which he had done for a number of years. A Mr. John Hilferty lived at Number 6 Bengal Terrace.

As well as confirming the houses that each of the residents lived in, The Irish Times of Friday September 22 1899, notes a confusion as to the district the murders took place in.

    Mr. Clegg, addressing the magistrate, said that the prisoner, Samuel Childs, was charged with the murder of his own brother under circumstances of extreme and horrifying brutality. The case was known as “The Glasnevin murder” but he believed in fact that the place where the murder occurred was not Glasnevin.

Thom’s Directory lists Bengal Place as being in Finglas, rather than Glasnevin. The terrace was renumbered between 1910 and 1912, with number 5 becoming number 36 and number 6 becoming number 38.

Does any of this matter? Who cares about the names and numbers, people and places, real and imagined? Does it matter whether the murder took place in Finglas or Glasnevin, or that Mr. Giltrap’s first name is given as John and James in different places? Perhaps not. But if your interest is the development of literature, paralleled with the development of a city, then they do. James Joyce’s use of Thom’s Directory is interesting to many scholars, as is his moving of places and events in Dublin to suit his literary needs. In the first case, the moving of house number 10 to house number 9 was probably down to his careful study of Thom’s. In the second case his character’s location of the murder differs from Thom’s and other records such as The Irish Times. Joyce was possibly so familiar with the terrace that he did not check, and Thomas Childs only lived there for a short period of time.

People make mistakes. For the accused, Samuel Childs, mistakes and small details mattered, He was acquitted of the murder of his brother, as acknowledged by Simon Dedalus in Ulysses.

Thomas Childs and James Giltrap lived two doors, and died one day, apart. As they were from different religions they were buried in very different parts of the City.  Vivien Igoe in her book, The Real People of Joyce’s Ulysses notes that James Giltrap died in the Hospice in Harold’s Cross and was moved across the city to be buried in mainly Catholic Prospect Cemetery in Glasnevin, beside his home in Bengal Terrace. James Giltrap, being a Protestant took an almost exactly opposite journey. He died in his home beside Prospect Cemetery, but was buried in Mount Jerome cemetery in Harold’s Cross. The difference between the reality of their two lives, their deaths and their own funeral processions, traversing the River Liffey, in contrast to the fictionalised funeral procession of Paddy Dignam is what I find most interesting.

Route Notes

Most routes in this blogpost involve a lot of advanced planning to create an interesting run and an interesting read. In this case I simply ran the funeral procession route from the Hades episode of Ulysses. It is one of the simplest routes that any of the characters in Ulysses take.

I am always working on a variety of blogposts and as I have developed more of them, they have got more complex both in terms of the running, the research and the writing. In this one picked what I thought was a simple topic of interest and prepared to run.

My original interest and theme was the different house numbers at the start and end of the route, which I think make an interesting counterpoint. As my research developed and the blogpost began to take shape, what became of greater interest was the  story of the closeness of the death, both in time and in space of Thomas Childs and James Giltrap and the difference in their funeral processions.

One interesting aside is that, as noted by Robert Martin Adams in Surface and Symbol, The Consistency of James Joyce’s Ulysses (p.174) Bloom’s client in Ulysses, Alexander Keyes was in reality one of the original jurors on the Childs case.

There are many other events and people that can be linked to this route and episode from Ulysses. I plan to return to it.


Adams, R.M. (1967) Surface and Symbol, The Consistency of James Joyce’s Ulysses, New York, United States: Oxford University Press.

Hardiman, A. (2017). Joyce in Court. 1st ed. London: Head of Zeus.

Gunn, I. and Hart, C. (2004) James Joyce’s Dublin: A Topographical Guide to the Dublin of Ulysses. London, United Kingdom: Thames & Hudson.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2015) The Little Review “Ulysses”. Edited by Mark Gaipa, Sean Latham, and Robert Scholes. New Haven, CT, United States: Yale University Press.

McCarthy, J.F. and Rose, D. (1991) Joyce’s Dublin: A Walking Guide to Ulysses. New York, United States: St. Martin’s Press

Nicholson, R. (2015) The Ulysses Guide. Dublin, Ireland: New Island Books.

Igoe, V. (2016) The Real People of Joyce’s Ulysses: A Biographical Guide. Dublin, Ireland: University College Dublin Press.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper


The Wellington Monument, Phoenix Park

Joyce started writing the short stories in Dubliners in 1904. However publication of Dubliners was protracted, and the collection was eventually published in London on the 15 June 1914.

I had an idea to run through the main locations of all of the stories in Dubliners. I wanted to show how closely knitted together the locations of the stories in Dubliners are, how comprehensively Joyce used the city of Dublin, and how the same locations are continually used, and used again in Joyce’s later works.

Joyce’s official, and first biographer, Herbert S. Gorman in James Joyce: His first forty years writes,

    Before one has read very far in “Dubliners” it becomes evident that these sketches are no more complete in themselves than a few hours of life is complete in itself. The mysterious motivation continues after the period has been put to the last paragraph. In other words, there is no rounded plot, no episode that is stated, developed and brought to a climax with its resultant dénouement. The reader is not through with these characters after they have been quietly snatched from their brief moment in the white light of Joyce’s exposition. They have walked past the window of his observation and merely turned the corner of time into other streets where we may be sure they are still existing, repeating themselves as small minds do, posturing for the contemptuous chuckles of Destiny.

Herbert S. Gorman, James Joyce: His first forty years (Page 46,47)

Like Gorman I feel the characters and places of Dubliners are still existing. Many walk from Dubliners into Ulysses, and in the case of Lenehan and Corley, I expect they are still lingering and loitering in Dublin. I certainly cross their paths often enough on this run.


Like the others runs in these blogposts  I decided to make my own set of rules for the route. I try to keep the rules generally the same between the blogs, varying them occasionally to suit.

Rule One: Relevancy to Dubliners

The first rule is that the route has to have some relevancy to the text of Dubliners. I was never going to be able to run through all of the places mentioned, particularly the outlying areas such as Inchicore, Skerries and Monkstown, so I would have to curate the run. But as the clue is in the title, I kept to the city of Dublin and as closely as possible, to places mentioned in the text of Dubliners.

I had to pick a start and an end point and then link the streets between with a narrative. Joyce wrote extensively about Dublin in all his major works, so if there was nothing mentioned in Dubliners I would select a route option that related to his other works, but mention them only lightly, and in passing. The long quotes below are all from the stories in Dubliners themselves.

Rule Two: Cross Dublin

The second rule is, cross the city, rather than stick to the edges. If there is a river, then cross it. The principal wanderers in Dubliners Lenehan, Corley and Little Chandler, like Stephen in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Stephen and Bloom in Ulysses, all cross the Liffey and so do I, more than once.

Rule Three: Treat all of the routes as in they are happening in the same time period

The run is relatively long. To keep my mind active I decided to run it as if all of the characters from Dubliners were moving through the city in the same place at the same time as me. I thought this approach was a little odd until I read Gorman’s passage above.

Not all of the stories in Dubliners are dated, but some like Araby are based on real events, in this case a bazaar taking place in the Royal Dublin Society in 1894. I typically refer to the city as it existed in 1904, the year Joyce started writing Dubliners, the year he met Nora Barnacle and the year he left Dublin for the Continent of Europe.

The Route

My first plan was to run the stories sequentially, starting with Great Britain Street in The Sisters and finishing on Usher’s Island from The Dead. I generally tried to run past or through the central point of action in a particular story. This is harder to do with a story like After the Race as I couldn’t run around Inchicore and then bob about in a boat in Kingstown Harbour. Most of the stories have a central moment in a particular place and I tried to engage with that.

After a bit of route mapping I abandoned the idea of running the stories sequentially. One of the reasons is the long run out to Sydney Parade train station and back to the centre of Dublin. It’s too long and too boring, both to run, write and to read about. Mixing the stories up adds to the interest.

Don Gifford writes about Dubliners,

The opening stories all involve motion toward the east, toward “exile,” toward some principle that promises at least escape from paralysis if not revitalization. In the balance of the volume eastward motion gives way to an increasing concentration in the centre of Dublin, the centre of paralysis; in the final story “The Dead,” there are glances westward, toward death.

Don Gifford Joyce annotated: Notes for Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Page 26)

I thought the run had a better narrative if I stared in Sydney Parade and then ran towards the city centre, crossing the Liffey a few times and generally heading west. The selected route follows Gifford’s outline, starting in the east, moves in through the south city, moves north as the Joyce family did, circles the north city centre and then heads west to the Phoenix Park. The route, like the book, starts and ends with death.

Most of the places I ran through are mentioned or implied in Dubliners, several are described in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, many occur repeatedly in Ulysses and some feature in Finnegans Wake, most notably The Phoenix Park.

The route crosses the city but does not cross over itself. I designed the route to be balanced and it is divides into four more or less equal parts, the run into the city from Sydney Parade, the run around the south central city, the run around the north central city, followed by the run out of the city.

The run ends as does Dubliners, heading west out of Dublin.

Route Notes

In the route descriptions I have used present day street names. It was very common for names of streets and house numbers to be changed in Dublin. I have noted several in the text.

I have referred to Roger Norburn’s A James Joyce Chronology for key dates.

In the descriptions below I have made reference to present day and historic Ordnance Survey digital maps. They are available on and I have referred to the Historic Map 25 inch set from 1888 – 1913, which shows the layout of the city that most closely matches the layout of when the stories were written.

Nothing compares to going out and seeing the city on foot. I made several preparatory runs, particularly to check road crossings and the end section. I did the actual run early on Sunday morning, starting just after 08:00. This was important as it is a time when the central city streets are relatively empty of pedestrians and traffic, essential for running on the footpaths and crossing key road junctions. I took the photos in advance.


Sydney Parade Train Station


Sydney Parade Dart Station 

I start at Sydney Parade Station which opened in 1835 on the southeast side of the city, and where Mrs. Sinico in the story A Painful Case was fatally injured by a train.

Today at the City of Dublin Hospital the Deputy Coroner (in the absence of Mr. Leverett) held an inquest on the body of Mrs. Emily Sinico, aged forty-three years, who was killed at Sydney Parade Station yesterday evening. The evidence showed that the deceased lady while attempting to cross the line was knocked down by the engine of the ten o’clock slow train from Kingstown, thereby sustaining injuries to the head and right side which led to her death.

James Joyce, A Painful Case, Dubliners (Page 95)

Interestingly Mrs. Sinico lived at Leoville on Sydney Parade. The house and her name are fictitious. Her name is based on Giuseppe Sinico, Joyce’s singing teacher in Trieste in 1905 and Leoville is the name of the house that James Joyce moved into at 23 Carysfort Avenue, Blackrock in 1892. It was his family’s last residence on the southside of the city, before moving north to Hardwicke Street, one of the streets I am headed to.

I have written more about A Painful Case in the blogpost, Now who is that lanky looking galoot over there in the macintosh?, which you can read here.

Ailesbury Road (West)

I run west along Ailesbury Road towards the Merrion Road. Ailesbury Road is not mentioned in Dubliners but emerges briefly in Mr. Bloom’s thoughts in the Lestrygonians episode of Ulysses.

Merrion Road (North West)

Merrion Road is mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when Stephen sees the removal vans heading north from the house in Blackrock, though the location is presumably further south from where I am, at the Merrion Gates. Stephen would most likely have continued his journey into town on the Merrion Road, just as Gabriel and Greta Conroy would have done in the opposite direction, the last time they returned from the Misses Morkan’s annual dance.

I pass the Royal Dublin Society which features prominently in Araby, where the narrator comes to visit the bazaar. There was a real bazaar held here as a benefit for the Jervis Street Hospital on the 14th to the 19th May 1894 and the young James Joyce is known to have attended.  The narrator of the story Araby travels by special train from Amiens Street, through Westland Row station and onto the bazaar pulling up to a temporary platform on the opposite side of Merrion Road.

At Westland Row Station a crowd of people pressed to the carriage doors; but the porters moved them back, saying that it was a special train for the bazaar. I remained alone in the bare carriage. In a few minutes the train drew up beside an improvised wooden platform. I passed out on to the road and saw by the lighted dial of a clock that it was ten minutes to ten. In front of me was a large building which displayed the magical name.

James Joyce, Araby, Dubliners (Page 25)

On the screen shot from the Ordnance Survey Map you can see the branch line that ran directly from the main Dublin and Kingstown Railway line direct to the RDS, terminating across the road from the main entrance. You can view the map online here.


The Royal Dublin Society, Ballsbridge

The line ran between what is now the Horse Show House Pub and the side of the AIB Bankcentre. The siding was built in 1893, one year before the Araby bazaar, with a permanent station opening in 1899, remaining in temporary use until 1971 when it was closed permanently.

Ballsbridge (North West)

Traveling northwest I cross the River Dodder at Ballsbridge. Nicholas Ball built the first bridge across the river, giving his name to the bridge and the area. It was widened and improved in 1904.

To the south west of the bridge, where the Herbert Park Hotel is now located, is the site of the Dublin by Lamplight Laundry, which was run by Protestants and is where Maria works in the story Clay.

    After the breakup at home the boys had got her that position in the Dublin by Lamplight laundry, and she liked it. She used to have such a bad opinion of protestants but now she thought they were very nice people, a little quiet and serious, but still very nice people to live with. Then she had her plants in the conservatory and she liked looking after them. She had lovely ferns and waxplants and, whenever anyone came to visit her, she always gave the visitor one or two slips from her conservatory. There was one thing she didn’t like and that was the tracts on the walls; but the matron was such a nice person to deal with, so genteel.

James Joyce, Clay, Dubliners (Page 83,84)

You can see the laundry identified on the Ordnance Survey Map as being a Female Penitentiary, which is probably appropriate.


Thom’s Directory 1904, Dublin by Lamplight

The Lamplight Laundry was set up in 1856, a Protestant institution for penitent females. Its inmates included women who had been working as prostitutes, or who had had children out of wedlock. The laundry employed them to provide services for many households and commercial firms in Dublin; the offices of the charity were at nearby Ballsbridge Terrace, while the location of the old laundry, which closed down in the early twentieth century, was close to the site of the present-day Herbert Park Hotel. 

Hugh Oram. Little Book Of Ballsbridge (Page 65)

Margot Norris, in her footnotes for Dubliners writes that the laundry provided work and a place to live for former and ageing prostitutes (page 82) . Perhaps this is why Joe’s wife is not so nice to Maria and perhaps Joyce is alluding to something when he writes;

Joe often used to say:

—Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother.

James Joyce, Clay, Dubliners (Page 83)

Shelbourne Road (North)

I could follow the Merrion Road into Dublin following the tram route that Maria took to the Pillar and then Drumcondra. Instead I head down Shelbourne Road to pass places travelled by the central character Farrington in Counterparts.

Alphy from Clay may be based on William Murray who lived at 16 Shelbourne Road for a time and was James Joyce’s maternal uncle. Farrington in Counterparts was based in part on William Murray. As always people and places, real and imagined are connected in the writings of Joyce.

We pass one of Joyce’s former residences at 60 Shelbourne Road from where he wrote his first letter to Nora Barnacle on 15th June 1905. This house forms the end point of my Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a Pub blogpost which you can read in detail here.

Just up to the north is the house where Counterparts ends, at 16 Shelbourne Road where William Murray lived for a time. Farrington returns here from his evening of drinking in the city centre, and terrorises his son Tom.

    His tram let him down at Shelbourne Road and he steered his great body along in the shadow of the wall of the barracks. He loathed returning to his home. When he went in by the sidedoor he found the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire nearly out. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 81)

I have written about Counterparts in the blogpost, Don’t beat me Pa! And I’ll…say a Hail Mary for you.which you can read here.

Haddington Road (West)

I run alongside the wall of Beggar’s Bush Barracks mentioned in the quote above and then head west on Haddington Road, in the opposite direction to which Farrington returns home in Counterparts. Joyce writes that Farrington took the Sandymount Tram. The Sandymount Tram went through Ringsend and did not go down Shelbourne Road. Instead it was the Irishtown Tram that crossed Shelbourne Road before heading east to Irishtown itself. I think I need to do another tram based blogpost.

Northumberland Road (North West)

Farrington’s tram took him southwards on Northumberland Road, but it would not be until Ulysses that the Road is specifically mentioned in Joyce’s writings as the Viceregal Cavalcade travels south along it, making its way from the Phoenix Park to the Mirus Bazaar to raise funds for The Mercer’s Hospital. Again this was a real fundraising bazaar and it makes an interesting comparison with the fundraising bazaar in Araby.

Lower Mount Street (North West)

At this point I have passed over the Grand Canal and head into the city centre.

As I run along Lower Mount Street it occurs to me that the street is largely uninteresting, with few interesting buildings or activities. The character of streets typically changes slowly over time. Perhaps the street was always uninteresting and hence why it does not feature in Joyce’s writings.

After I  planned the route and wrote this blogpost, I read John Banville’s book Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir. He seems to have the same view of Lower Mount Street. He talks about Baggotonia, the area around the Grand Canal.

   The boundaries of Baggotonia are mysteriously fluid. For the purposes of brevity, I shall here follow Nancy Mitford’s example and employ the designations ‘B’ and ‘Non-B’ in referring to those things that are authentically Baggotonian and those that are not. Thus both ends of Lower Mount Street are B, but the street itself is decidely Non-B, and wasn’t even when I was young and many of its Georgian houses were still standing. At the eastern end of the thoroughfare are the canal and the leafier lower stretch of Percy Place, while at its western end it runs into Merrion Square; both these extremes are triumphantly B —are, indeed, characteristic examples of Baggotonia Superba. So what is it about the street itself that is Non-B? Even aboriginal sons and daughters of Baggotonia, of whom few, if indeed any, survive, could not tell you that; one just knows.

John Banville, Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir (Page 48)

Merrion Square North (West)

I reach Merrion Square.

At this point Maria’s inbound tram from Ballsbridge to the Pillar passes Farrington’s outbound tram from O’Connell Bridge to Sandymount as Corley and his slavey’s are travelling outbound on the Donnybrook tram.

Though several characters in several stories pass through Merrion Square, including Maria and Farrington, the square is only mentioned in Two Gallants.

But then the Two Gallants go everywhere. There is a good description of their overall route on the Mapping Dubliners Project here. I will cross over and pass along many parts of their route on what is one of the longest rambles in Joyce’s writing.

Holles Street (North)

I turn and head down the hill at Holles Street, passing the Hospital to the right. The Oxen of the Sun episode of Ulysses takes place here.

Denzille Lane (West)

In Ulysses Stephen went down Denzille Lane, the shortest way from Holles Street to Westland Row train station, and I do likewise. Stephen was getting the train to Nighttown, but for me that’s for another run.

North Cumberland Street (North)

I run underneath the platforms at Westland Row, now Pearse Street Station. The station appears in Araby as quoted abovewhere the crowds press the doors above my head, not realising the train is a special going to the bazaar in the RDS.

Pearse Street (East)

I turn east on Pearse Street (formerly Great Brunswick Street) and travel a short distance in the same direction as Paddy Dignam’s funeral cortège in Ulysses as it makes its way to Glasnevin Cemetery.

Magennis Place (North West)

I run down a back lane called Magennis PlaceOn the historic maps it is called Maginness Place. I expect that there is a story as to the change and the swapping of the i and e in the name, but it will have to wait for another day.

Townsend Street (West)

Bloom crosses Townsend Street on his way to examine his letter from Martha Clifford, but I run along it, heading west.

Tara Street (North)

Bloom thinks of having a bath in Tara Street. The public baths were located on the southeast junction with Poolbeg Street, which I now head west on, running towards Mulligan’s pub.

Poolbeg Street (West)

I reach Mulligan’s pub.

Processed with Snapseed.

Mulligan’s Poolbeg Street

    When the Scotch House closed they went round to Mulligan’s. They went into the parlour at the back and O’Halloran ordered small hot specials all round. They were all beginning to feel mellow. Farrington was just standing another round when Weathers came back. Much to Farrington’s relief he drank a glass of bitter this time. Funds were getting low but they had enough to keep them going. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 78)

Mulligan’s is often associated with Ulysses but it only appears in Counterparts in Dubliners. The confusion is added to by the sign, pictured above, that the owners have painted on the wall that refers to Bloomsday.

Corn Exchange Place (North)

Passing Mulligan’s I turn right and go by the site of the former Tivoli Theatre on the corner of Corn Exchange Place and Burgh Quay. Counterparts continues as do I,

Presently two young women with big hats and a young man in a check suit came in and sat at a table close by. Weathers saluted them and told the company that they were out of the Tivoli. Farrington’s eyes wandered at every moment in the direction of one of the young women. There was something striking in her appearance. An immense scarf of peacockblue muslin was wound round her hat and knotted in a great bow under her chin; and she wore bright yellow gloves, reaching to the elbow. Farrington gazed admiringly at the plump arm which she moved very often and with much grace; and when after a little time, she answered his gaze he admired still more her large dark brown eyes. The oblique staring expression in them fascinated him. She glanced at him once or twice and, when the party was leaving the room, she brushed against his chair and said O, pardon! in a London accent. He watched her leave the room in the hope that she would look back at him but he was disappointed. He cursed his want of money and cursed all the rounds he had stood, particularly all the whiskies and Apolinaris which he had stood to Weathers. If there was one thing that he hated it was a sponge. He was so angry that he lost count of the conversation of his friends.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 78,79)

Mulligan’s is the last of the pubs that Farrington visits. He leaves Mulligan’s to go to O’Connell Bridge and get the little Sandymount Tram home. Although it is around the corner, I have a way to go before I cross O’Connell Bridge.

Burgh Quay (West) 

I run onto Burgh Quay and then turn south, passing the former site of the Scotch House, where Farrington also drinks in Counterparts.

Hawkins Street (South)

I run south down Hawkins Street, one of the ugliest in Dublin. I pass the site of the Theatre Royal, mentioned in The Dead, and replaced by some of the most uninspiring architecture in Dublin.

Pearse Street / Great Brunswick Street (East)

I run eastwards out of town against the flow of traffic and Paddy Dignam’s cortège, passing the Police Station on my left and the walls of Trinity College on my right.

I pass the site of the Queens Theatre, the third of the great Dublin theatres, with The Tivoli and the Theatre Royal, all such a short distance from each other, and all gone.

Further up Pearse Street I pass the Antient Concert rooms, now The Academy, where Mrs. Kearney passes some unpleasant evenings in A Mother. 

When Mrs. Kearney arrived with her daughter at the Antient Concert Rooms on Wednesday night she did not like the look of things.

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 119)

   The night of the grand concert came. Mrs. Kearney, with her husband and daughter, arrived at the Antient Concert Rooms three quarters of an hour before the time at which the concert was to begin. By ill luck it was a rainy evening. 

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 121)

The Ancient Concert Rooms are also mentioned in The Dead as Mary Jane gave a pupil’s concert there every year. James Joyce also acted there, his performance reviewed in the Evening Telegraph.

Westland Row (South)

I turn south on Westland Row, passing this time to the front of Westland Row Station where Jimmy and his companions board a train and go to Kingstown in After the Race.

I pass St. Andrews Church and head towards Sweny’s, both so prominently featured in Ulysses. Sweny’s is well worth stopping into, to catch a reading, buy a book, or even a bar of lemon soap.

Merrion Street Lower (South)

I pass the house that Oscar Wilde and his family lived in, on the corner of Merrion Square and Merrion Street Lower, having passed his birthplace nearby on Westland Row. In Ulysses, Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stops outside the house of Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde’s house. A mouthful. I press on.

Merrion Square West (South)

Merrion Square West runs into Merrion Street

Merrion Street (South)

Linehan had arranged to meet Corley at half ten at Merrion Street and when he arrives late in the evening he watches Corley and his slavey. A stalker.

Merrion Row (West)

I turn west and run along the short connecting street toward Stephen’s Green.

St. Stephen’s Green (West)

St. Stephen’s Green is mentioned in several stories in Dubliners, including Two Gallants, and After the Race. In Two Gallants Lenehan passes the Shelbourne Hotel, which I pass and turn down the side of, heading north on Kildare Street.

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Shelbourne Hotel, St. Stephen’s Green

Kildare Street (North)

Lenehan and Corley seem to be all over the city. In Kildare Street they pass a harpist playing in the middle of the road. There were no trams on Kildare Street, but it is hard to imagine how such a scene could take place today on what is such a busy street.

    They walked along Nassau Street and then turned into Kildare Street. Not far from the porch of the club a harpist stood in the roadway, playing to a little ring of listeners. He plucked at the wires heedlessly, glancing quickly from time to time at the face of each newcomer and from time to time, wearily also, at the sky. His harp, too, heedless that her coverings had fallen about her knees, seemed weary alike of the eyes of strangers and of her master’s hands. One hand played in the bass the melody of Silent, O Moyle, while the other hand careered in the treble after each group of notes. The notes of the air sounded deep and full.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 43)

Molesworth Street (West)

I run west along Molesworth Street, passing where Bloom leads the blind stripling across Dawson Street, heading towards South Frederick Street, where I used to live and where I first read Ulysses as an architecture student.

Dawson Street (North)

I run just a short distance down Dawson Street, where the Mr. Henchy has been canvassing in Ivy Day at the Committee Room, turning into Duke Street and missing my chance to see the virgin at Hodges Figgis’ window.

Duke Street (West)

I pass Ulysses Rare Books at 10 Duke Street. Thankfully it is closed as otherwise I may not be able to resist popping in. You shouldn’t.

On Duke Street I pass yet another pub that Farrington had a drink in, in this case, Davy Byrne’s, where Farrington meets Nosey Flynn. Davy Byrne’s is famously written about in Ulysses where Leopold Bloom also meets Nosey Flynn and has a glass of burgundy and a gorgonzola sandwich. I don’t have time for either now, but will return.

You may have the time and can read the history of the Davy Byrne’s pub here

Leaving Davy Byrne’s I have now run past all of Farrington’s pubs. A tram to Shelbourne Road would be quite tempting now.

Grafton Street (North)

Turning into Grafton Street I pass Brown Thomas and Marks and Spencer. Brown Thomas was originally located on the site occupied but Marks and Spencer but has relocated across the road to the former site of Switzers. Brown Thomas was, and is, one of the most expensive shops in Dublin.

Mrs. Kearney bought some lovely blush-pink charmeuse in Brown Thomas’s to let into the front of Kathleen’s dress. It cost a pretty penny; but there are occasions when a little expense is justifiable. 

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 118,119)

Grafton Street has been pedestrianised for many years but in After The Race Rivière, Ségouin, Villona and Jimmy get to drive along it.

The story Grace begins in a pub in a laneway off Grafton Street,

    The three men left the bar and the crowd sifted through the doors in to the laneway. The manager brought the constable to the stairs to inspect the scene of the accident. They agreed that the gentleman must have missed his footing. The customers returned to the counter and a curate set about removing the traces of blood from the floor.
    When they came out into Grafton Street, Mr. Power whistled for an outsider.

James Joyce, Grace, Dubliners (Page 130)

It is not possible to know exactly which pub Joyce refers to in Grace, but I think that it is likely to have been The Empire in Adam Court. It is the only pub on a laneway off Grafton Street and is mentioned in Ulysses as Bob Doran has spent the afternoon there. It is directly opposite Wicklow Street and today is The Porterhouse Central.

Wicklow Street (West)

Ivy Day in the Committee Room begins around the corner in Wicklow Street so I head down here, with Grafton Street at my back. Ivy Day commemorates the death of Charles Stewart Parnell and as Siobhán Doyle mentions in Grave Matters (page 156) it gets its name as mourners at Parnell’s funeral spontaneously took ivy from the walls of Glasnevin Cemetery to put in their buttonholes as a mark of respect.

Andrew Street (North)

Thomas Malone Chandler in A Little Cloud arrives at Corless’s and hesitates before entering. Corless’s was on the corner of Andrew Street and Church Lane. I have written about Corless’s in the blogpost, He knew the value of the name, which you can read here.

Suffolk Street (East)

Suffolk Street gets a brief mention in Ivy Day at The Committee Room. It’s a short street and shortly after running down it, I turn north at the bottom of Grafton Street, not quite making like a bird for Trinity College, but at least I am sure that I know where it is.

Grafton Street (North)

I pass the Provost’s House and outside railings of Trinity College as many of Joyce’s wanderers do. Considering the amount of walking in his Joyce’s works it seems notable that nobody goes into the College, activities inside like the bicycle races and the cricket mentioned only in passing.

Dame Street (East)

In The Dead Patrick Morkan’s horse Johnny was headed, as am I, to the Phoenix Park. Johnny got confused by King Billy’s statue in Dame Street.

—The late lamented Patrick Morkan, our grandfather, that is, explained Gabriel, commonly known in his later years as the old gentleman, was a glue-boiler.
—O, now, Gabriel, said aunt Kate, laughing, he had a starch mill.
—Well, glue or starch, said Gabriel, the old gentleman had a horse by the name of Johnny. And Johnny used to work in the old gentleman’s mill, walking round and round in order to drive the mill. That was all very well; but now comes the tragic part about Johnny. One fine day the old gentleman thought he’d like to drive out with the quality to a military review in the park.
—The Lord have mercy on his soul, said aunt Kate compassionately.
—Amen, said Gabriel. So the old gentleman, as I said, harnessed Johnny and put on his very best tall hat and his very best stock collar and drove out in grand style from his ancestral mansion somewhere near Back Lane, I think.
    Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Malins, at Gabriel’s manner and aunt Kate said:
—O, now, Gabriel, he didn’t live in Back Lane, really. Only the mill was there.
—Out from the mansion of his forefathers, continued Gabriel, he drove with Johnny. And everything went on beautifully until Johnny came in sight of King Billy’s statue: and whether he fell in love with the horse King Billy sits on or whether he thought he was back again in the mill, anyhow he began to walk round the statue.
    Gabriel paced in a circle round the hall in his goloshes amid the laughter of the others.
—Round and round he went, said Gabriel, and the old gentleman, who was a very pompous old gentleman, was highly indignant. Go on, sir! What do you mean, sir? Johnny! Johnny! Most extraordinary conduct! Can’t understand the horse!

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 180, 181)

There is an interesting blogpost on the statue here. I am relieved that the statue is gone lest I get caught up running round and round it.

On the north east side of the street in After The Race Ségouin is about to stop the car.

They drove down Dame Street. The street was busy with unusual traffic, loud with the horns of motorists and the gongs of impatient tramdrivers. Near the Bank Ségouin drew up and Jimmy and his friend alighted. A little knot of people collected on the footpath to pay homage to the snorting motor. The party was to dine together that evening in Ségouin’s hotel and, meanwhile, Jimmy and his friend, who was staying with him, were to go home to dress. The car steered out slowly for Grafton Street while the two young men pushed their way through the knot of gazers. They walked northward with a curious feeling of disappointment in the exercise, while the city hung its pale globes of light above them in a haze of summer evening.

James Joyce, After The Race, Dubliners (Page 35)

Ségouin’s hotel is not named, but I expect it may be The Shelbourne as he drives up Grafton Street towards his hotel for dinner, the five young men stroll along St. Stephen’s Green after their dinner, and Joyce has mentioned, and I have run by The Shelbourne earlier.

Meanwhile our Two Gallants, Corley and Lenehan are also here in Dame Street.

—And where did you pick her up, Corley? he asked.
Corley ran his tongue swiftly along his upper lip.
—One night, man, he said, I was going along Dame Street and I spotted a fine tart under Waterhouse’s clock and said goodnight, you know. So we went for a walk round by the canal and she told me she was a slavey in a house in Baggot Street. I put my arm round her and squeezed her a bit that night. Then next Sunday, man, I met her by appointment. We went out to Donnybrook and I brought her into a field there. She told me she used to go with a dairyman. … It was fine, man. Cigarettes every night she’d bring me and paying the tram out and back. And one night she brought me two bloody fine cigars—O, the real cheese, you know, that the old fellow used to smoke. … I was afraid, man, she’d get in the family way. But she’s up to the dodge.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 39,40)

Just like Corley in Two Gallants, I pass Waterhouse’s ClockThe clock is also mentioned in the Anna Livia Plurabelle episode of Finnegans Wake. You can hear James Joyce reading Anna Livia Plurabelle here.

There is a picture of Waterhouses’s and its clock here.

Parliament Street (North)

I turn north onto Parliament Street with my back to City Hall, in the opposite direction to Lenehan who takes my place on Dame Street.

I pass the Turk’s Head at 27 Parliament Street, noted in Ivy Day at the Committee Room as Kavanagh’s  where Long John Fanning and Father Keon are known to drink. Long John Fanning is still there in Ulysses.

East Essex Street (West)


The Norseman, formerly Farrington’s and O’Neills

I pass the Norseman Pub, formerly Farrington’s and before that O’Neill’s, the first of Farrington’s drinking many stops.

From the street door he walked on furtively on the inner side of the path towards the corner and all at once dived into a doorway. He was now safe in the dark snug of O’Neill’s shop and, filling up the little window that looked into the bar with his inflamed face, the colour of dark wine or dark meat, he called out:
—Here, Pat, give us a g.p., like a good fellow.
    The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man drank it at a gulp and asked for a caraway seed. He put his penny on the counter and, leaving the curate to grope for it in the gloom, retreated out of the snug as furtively as he had entered it.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 72)

I pass Eustace Street on my right, from where Farrington comes from his office for his first drink, a glass of plain porter.

Temple Bar (West)

Later Farrington passes through Temple Bar going quickly as he begins his pub crawl.

    He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly, muttering to himself that they could all go to hell because he was going to have a good night of it. 

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 76)

Fleet Street (East)

I am not sure I am travelling quickly like Farrington but I pass through Fleet Street where he goes to pawn his watch in Terry Kelly’s. Jack Mooney the landlady’s son and hard case also worked in Fleet Street.

Westmoreland Street (North)

I leave the route that Farrington took and head north on Westmoreland Street. Westmoreland Street is a prominent route in the City and is mentioned in Two Gallants, Counterparts and Grace, as well as several times in Ulysses.

Joyce describes the street;

In Westmoreland Street the footpaths were crowded with young men and women returning from business and ragged urchins ran here and there yelling out the names of the evening editions. The man passed through the crowd, looking on the spectacle generally with proud satisfaction and staring masterfully at the office-girls. His head was full of the noises of tram gongs and swishing trolleys and his nose already sniffed the curling fumes of punch.

James Joyce, Counterparts, Dubliners (Page 76)

O’Connell Bridge (North)

Farrington waits sullenfaced faced on the bridge for his outbound tram. I won’t be passing him again. Gabriel Conroy crosses the bridge in the opposite direction and is in much better spirits in The Dead as he heads to the Gresham Hotel for a night with his wife Greta.

O’Connell Street (North)

As they come to start of O’Connell Street they pass the statue of Daniel O’Connell, whitened by the winter snowfall.


Statue od Daniel O’Connell

The horse galloped along wearily under the murky morning sky, dragging his old rattling box after his heels, and Gabriel was again in a cab with her, galloping to catch the boat, galloping to their honeymoon.
    As the cab drove across O’Connell Bridge Miss O’Callaghan said:
—They say you never cross O’Connell Bridge without seeing a white horse.
—I see a white man this time, said Gabriel.
—Where? asked Mr. Bartell D’Arcy.
    Gabriel pointed to the statue, on which lay patches of snow. Then he nodded familiarly to it and waved his hand.
—Goodnight, Dan, he said gaily.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 186,187)

It is sunny as I run by, with Dan’s head whitened by bird shit rather than snowfall.

A short distance further I pass directly in front of the General Post Office so memorably thought of by Mrs. Kearney,

She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed.

James Joyce, A Mother, Dubliners (Page 121)

I pass The Spire, formerly the site of Nelson’s Pillar. It was here that many of the Dublin trams terminated and where Maria in Clay caught the outbound Drumcondra tram. I previously wrote about the trams of Dublin in a blogpost which you can read here. Tramlines, having been taken out of O’Connell Street are now being reinstalled.

I cross the road and make my way to the front of The Gresham Hotel. I am now in the same place where Greta and Gabriel Conroy stood.

    She leaned for a moment on his arm in getting out of the cab and while standing at the curbstone, bidding the others good-night. She leaned lightly on his arm, as lightly as when she had danced with him a few hours before. He had felt proud and happy then, happy that she was his, proud of her grace and wifely carriage. But now, after the kindling again of so many memories, the first touch of her body, musical and strange and perfumed, sent through him a keen pang of lust. Under cover of her silence he pressed her arm closely to his side: and, as they stood at the hotel door, he felt that they had escaped from their lives and duties, escaped from home and friends and run away together with wild and radiant hearts to a new adventure.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 187)

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The Gresham Hotel, O’Connell Street

Physically The Dead and Dubliners end in The Gresham Hotel, but spiritually they end in the west, and it is west that I am ultimately heading. There is a way to go yet and I run on.

Cathal Brugha Street (East)

I travel down Cathal Brugha Street, formerly Findlater Place before turning into Marlborough Street.

Marlborough Street (South)

Marlborough Street is dominated by the Pro-Cathedral. Mr. Kearney and his family attend the Pro-Cathedral on special Sundays and it is in the Pro-Cathedral on Marlborough Street that Mrs. Mooney goes to pray, though probably not for her tenant Bob Doran, who could have used the prayers.

It was seventeen minutes past eleven: she would have lots of time to have the matter out with Mr. Doran and then catch short twelve at Marlborough Street.

James Joyce, The Boarding House, Dubliners (Page 52)

North Earl Street (West)

I turn into the very short North Earl Street, where Corley saw his slavey, in close proximity to Nighttown, Dublin’s red light district immortalised in the Circe episode of Ulysses.

—She was… a bit of all right, he said regretfully.
    He was silent again. Then he added:
—She’s on the turf now. I saw her driving down Earl Street one night with two fellows with her on a car.
—I suppose that’s your doing, said Lenehan.
—There was others at her before me, said Corley philosophically.

James Joyce, Two Gallants, Dubliners (Page 42)

North Earl Street, being opposite the Pillar was located at the major junction for north and southbound trams and it is here that Maria in Clay buys mixed penny cakes in Downes cakeshop, though she refrains from buying their plum cake as it does not have enough almond icing. No matter, she bought it elsewhere and then left it behind her on the outbound tram.

I pass the oddly placed James Joyce statue before turning south on O’Connell Street.

O’Connell Street (South)

I travel south on the other side of Daniel O’Connell’s statue, making my way towards the River Liffey.

Eden Quay (East)

I turn east on Eden Quay heading out of the city to Dublin Bay passing Mooney’s Sur Mer mentioned in Ulysses.

Custom House Quay (East)

There are great scenes around the Custom House in Ulysses as Bloom and Stephen end their evening at the cabman’s shelter, meeting the alleged Skin The Goat Fitzharris, passing the stone minding Gumley and even meeting that ever present Dubliner Corley, in and around the Custom House.

The quays do not feature much in Dubliners. People cross the River, but few walk up and down it, a pattern which continues today.

North Wall (East)

I head down North Wall where in the story Eveline, the character in the title of the story cannot get on the boat to emigrate to Argentina with Frank.

    She stood among the swaying crowd in the station at the North Wall. He held her hand and she knew that he was speaking to her, saying something about the passage over and over again. The station was full of soldiers with brown baggages. Through the wide doors of the sheds she caught a glimpse of the black mass of the boat lying in beside the quay wall, with illumined portholes. She answered nothing. She felt her cheek pale and cold and out of a maze of distress, she prayed to God to direct her, to show her what was her duty. The boat blew a long mournful whistle into the mist. If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with Frank, steaming towards Buenos Ayres. Their passage had been booked. Could she still draw back after all he had done for her? Her distress awoke a nausea in her body and she kept moving her lips in silent fervent prayer.
—A bell clanged upon her heart. She felt him seize her hand:
    All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing.
    No! No! No! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish!
—Eveline! Evvy!
    He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on but he still called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal. Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.

James Joyce, Eveline, Dubliners (Page 31,32)

Perhaps if her surname was Barnacle Eveline would have stuck with Frank as Joyce’s father commented on Nora. Nora Barnacle and James Joyce emigrated from Ireland from this point in 1904.Joyce had already had the narrator of an encounter state,

    I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

James Joyce, An Encounter, Dubliners (Page 13)

New Wapping Street (North)

Most of the city on this run has a similar layout and architecture to when Joyce wrote Dubliners.The Docklands are much changed with much of the original streetscape obliterated with modern commercial buildings.

Mayor Street Upper (West)

Mayor Street was previously disjointed, broken by the railway lines, which no longer reach the quays at this point.

Spencer Dock (West)

The new Spencer Dock roadway links the previously separated Manor Street Lower and Manor Street Upper and I run along it, crossing over the Royal Canal.

Guild Street (North)

I ran along Guild Street on my Ulysses 21k and I decide to run off and go up Sherriff Street Lower, a welcome return to the original architecture and a cobbled street. The cobbles, last felt in East Essex Street and Temple Bar are uncomfortable to run on, so I move to the pavement.

Sheriff Street Lower (West)

I run along Sherriff Street Lower, to pass under the platforms at Connolly, formerly Amiens Street Station where the narrator of Araby gets on the train that takes him to the RDS. We have now passed the platform he ended his journey on, passed under the one he started and also under the one he stopped at in Westland Row. I now run towards where he began his journey in North Richmond Street.

Amiens Street (North)

I pass several pubs mentioned in Ulysses and head north out of the city. I been in some and have plans to return to all of them for a leisurely drink.

North Strand Road (North East)

The run takes me to the Five Lamps where I head north east out of the city. At this point I join Fr. Conmee from Ulysses as he heads out of town, stepping onto an outbound tram at Newcomen Bridge and pass Stephen Dedalus heading into his lectures in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.

Charleville Mall (North West)

Joyce describes the Charleville Mall and Newcomen Bridge in An Encounter where the narrator skips school, meeting his friend Mahony at Newcomen Bridge for an adventure in Ringsend.

    That night I slept badly. In the morning I was firstcomer to the bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank. It was a mild sunny morning in the first week of June. I sat up on the coping of the bridge admiring my frail canvas shoes which I had diligently pipeclayed overnight and watching the docile horses pulling a tramload of business people up the hill. All the branches of the tall trees which lined the mall were gay with little light green leaves and the sunlight slanted through them on to the water. The granite stone of the bridge was beginning to be warm and I began to pat it with my hands in time to an air in my head. I was very happy.

James Joyce, An Encounter , Dubliners (Page 14)

I previously wrote a small blogpost about An Encounter, Swaddlers! Swaddlers! which you can read here.

Dunne Street (South West)

Joyce writes that the narrator of An Encounter lives nearby, possibly in North Richmond Street where Joyce lived and the next story Araby begins. I head there by means of the back lanes which any mitching boys would have used.

North William Street (North West)

I pass the dominant Saint Agatha’s Roman Catholic on Dunne Street before turning up the narrow North William Street, into Richmond Cottages. Of all the places in Dublin that I have run on in these blogs, it is this street that seems the least changed from Joyce’s time.

Richmond Cottages North (North West)

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Richmond Cottages

The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses where we ran the gantlet of the rough tribes from the cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness. 

James Joyce, Araby , Dubliners (Page 21)

Luckily I don’t meet any rough tribes from the cottages as I run through the Cottages to North Richmond Street.

Richmond Street North (South)

North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers’ School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.

James Joyce, Araby , Dubliners (Page 20)

Joyce does not describe the architecture of Dublin in any detail, rather building up the city though the people, their wanderings and encounters. The passage describing North Richmond Street is one of the most descriptive. The house at the blind end of the street is still there and I run southwards with my back to it, passing the Christian Brothers on my right.

I have written about Araby in the blogpost, Brown Imperturbable Faces, which you can read here.

North Circular Road (North West)

I now cross paths with Fr. Conmee who is walking in the opposite direction to me as he tries to catch a tram out of the city.

Charles Street Great (West)

I continue to run in the opposite direction to Fr. Conmee in Ulysses. I wonder why some of the streets like this one are so wide, when the carriages that traveled along were so narrow. Time for more research.

Mountjoy Square East  (North West)

I run towards Gardiner Street Church, which Fr. Conmee left on his way to Marino. This section also forms part of my crossing Dublin without passing a pub blogpost.

Mountjoy Square North (South West)

I turn south west and leave the pub puzzle route.

Gardiner Street Upper (North East)

Grace which started near Grafton Street ends here in the Jesuit Church of Saint Francis Xavier in Gardiner Street Upper, where the hapless Tom Kernan is hustled to a retreat, the same church that Joe Dillon’s parents attend eight o’clock mass every morning in An Encounter.

    The transept of the Jesuit Church in Gardiner Street was almost full; and still at every moment gentlemen entered from the side door and, directed by the lay brother, walked on tiptoe along the aisles until they found seating accommodation. The gentlemen were all well dressed and orderly. The light of the lamps of the church fell upon an assembly of black clothes and white collars, relieved here and there by tweeds, on dark mottled pillars of green marble and on lugubrious canvasses. The gentlemen sat in the benches, having hitched their trousers slightly above their knees and laid their hats in security. They sat well back and gazed formally at the distant speck of red light which was suspended before the high altar.

James Joyce, Grace, Dubliners (Page 149)

Dorset Street (South West)

Lenehan has been talking in a pub in Dorset Street all afternoon. Exactly which pub is not mentioned. It could have been Larry O’Rourke’s or M’Auley’s which are both mentioned in Ulysses. Larry O’ Rourke’s is closest to Rutland Square and seems more likely.

M’Auley’s at 39 Dorset Street Lower is where the men gather before accompanying Mr. Kernan to the retreat in Grace. M’Auley’s still exists and has traded for many years as The Big Tree.

As I turn into Hardwicke Place, Larry O’Rouke’s at 74 Dorset Street Upper is on the opposite corner, trading now as The Eccles Townhouse.

Hardwicke Place (South)

I am going faster than a relaxed walking pace and cross the circus before George’s church diametrically, the chord in any circle being less than the arc which it subtends.

Hardwicke Street (South West))

On to Hardwicke Street and home to the landlady, Mrs. Mooney and the luckless tenant, Bob Doran in The Boarding House. Mrs. Mooney’s daughter, Polly has been secretly meeting  Bob Doran on the third landing.

Polly knew that she was being watched, but still her mother’s persistent silence could not be misunderstood. There had been no open complicity between mother and daughter, no open understanding but, though people in the house began to talk of the affair, still Mrs. Mooney did not intervene. Polly began to grow a little strange in her manner and the young man was evidently perturbed. At last, when she judged it to be the right moment, Mrs. Mooney intervened. She dealt with moral problems as a cleaver deals with meat: and in this case she had made up her mind.

James Joyce, The Boarding House, Dubliners (Page 51)

Bob Doran appears again in Ulysses spending his day on a bender.

Joyce lived briefly in 29 Hardwicke Street in 1893, the first place he lived on the north side of the city as the family moved from relative prosperity on the southside, into poverty on the inner northside of Dublin.

North Frederick Street (South East)

I get some relief as I head downhill on North Frederick Street.

Parnell Square (South East) 

Rutland Square, now Parnell Square, is where the two gallants, Lenehan and Corley first appear. Linehan has been drinking in Dorset Street and the companions set off on long rambles across Dublin on many of the streets I have already run along and across.

Parnell Street (South West)

As I turn into Parnell Street I pass the Rotunda where Mr. Duffy first met Mrs. Sinico, and in a short time I will pass where he last met her in the Phoenix Park.

I started my run with Mrs. Sinico at Sydney Parade. Joyce begins Dubliners with The Sisters which has Great Britain Street, now Parnell Street as its central point of action. I say action but the stories are defined by the stasis of Dublin. Dubliners opens,

There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: I am not long for this world, and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis

James Joyce, Sisters, Dubliners (Page 3)

Paralysis and death open the stories and these themes run through.

King’s Inn Street (North West)

I run North along King’s Inn Street past the Williams and Woods building, confectioners mentioned in Ulysses. From here I can see the King’s Inns at the end of Henrietta Street where Little Chandler works and from where he leaves to meet Ignatius Gallaher in Corless’s

Bolton Street (South West)

I reach Bolton Street and head southwest as Little Chandler must have done when he came down Henrietta Street on his way to Capel Street.

Capel Street (South)

    Little Chandler quickened his pace. For the first time in his life he felt himself superior to the people he passed. For the first time his soul revolted against the dull inelegance of Capel Street. 

James Joyce, A Little Cloud , Dubliners (Page 59)

I don’t quicken my pace but I reflect on this sentence, which allied to my studies in the School of Architecture in Bolton Street, got me started on this journey of reading writing and ruminating about the works of James Joyce.

Grattan Bridge (South)

Grattan Bridge Looking East

Little Chandler crosses the Liffey and I take the same course. I run over what is commonly called Capel Street Bridge, Little Chandler crossed Grattan Bridge and Bloom and Blazes Boylan cross Essex Bridge, and they are all the same bridge.

In Two Gallants Lenehan also travels south on Capel Street and crosses the bridge as he makes his way towards City Hall and he lingers nearby in the Ormond Hotel in Ulysses. There is no getting away from him and Corley.

Essex Quay (West)

Whereas Little Chandler and Lenehan head east into the centre of the city, I head west along the quays. It is a largely uninspiring run, even in the early morning when there is little traffic about.

Wood Quay (West)

In a previous blogpost, Pprrpffrrppffff, I wrote about the smells of Dublin. You can read about it here.

Merchant’s Quay (West)

I cross the junction with Winetavern Street, on the corner of which stood Gabriel and Gretta Conroy, Miss O’Callaghan and Bartell D’Arcy as they waited for a cab to take them home after the annual dance of the Misses Morkan.

I riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, where Julia Morkan was the leading Soprano and where Finnegans Wake opens.

Usher’s Quay (West)

Usher’s Quay is dull and uninteresting, something to be passed through and endured at the end of a long run, or probably even a short stroll.

Usher’s Island (West)

To the north of the middle of Usher’s Island is the bombastic design of the James Joyce bridge, designed by Santiago Calatrava. It strikes me that it is an overblown solution to a simple problem. I am not alone in my view. Christine Casey in her book The Buildings of Ireland; Dublin (page 696) writes, It is a very large statement for this cramped and and modest site. Joyce might well have approved!

The house on Usher’s Island rivals 7 Eccles Street as the most famous house in Joyce’s writing. Joyce describes it as dark and gaunt, and it is here that Gabriel Conroy makes his timeless speech,

—Ladies and gentlemen.
    A new generation is growing up in our midst, a generation actuated by new ideas and new principles. It is serious and enthusiastic for these new ideas and its enthusiasm, even when it is misdirected, is, I believe, in the main sincere. But we are living in a sceptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thoughttormented age: and sometimes I fear that this new generation, educated or hypereducated as it is, will lack those qualities of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humour which belonged to an older day. Listening tonight to the names of all those great singers of the past it seemed to me, I must confess, that we were living in a less spacious age. Those days might, without exaggeration, be called spacious days: and if they are gone beyond recall let us hope, at least, that in gatherings such as this we shall still speak of them with pride and affection, still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let die.
—Hear, hear! said Mr. Browne loudly.
—But yet,continued Gabriel, his voice falling into a softer inflection, there are always in gatherings such as this sadder thoughts that will recur to our minds: thoughts of the past, of youth, of changes, of absent faces that we miss here tonight. Our path through life is strewn with many such sad memories: and were we to brood upon them always we could not find the heart to go on bravely with our work among the living. We have all of us living duties and living affections which claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours.
    Therefore, I will not linger on the past. I will not let any gloomy moralising intrude upon us here tonight. Here we are gathered together for a brief moment from the bustle and rush of our everyday routine. We are met here as friends, in the spirit of good fellowship, as colleagues also, to a certain extent, in the true spirit of camaraderie, and as the guests of—what shall I call them?—the Three Graces of the Dublin musical world.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 177,178)

Gabriel Conroy looks out the window,

Gabriel’s warm trembling fingers tapped the cold pane of the window. How cool it must be outside! How pleasant it would be to walk out alone, first along by the river and then through the park! 

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 166)

So I do, I run along the River and into the Park, leaving The Dead and Dubliners and enjoying the river and Park.

Victoria Quay (West)

I run along Victoria Quay at the northern end of the Guinness St. James’s Gate brewery. The Guinness family and their famous product are mentioned in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Ulysses and Finnegans Wake and despite a lot of alcohol consumption in Dubliners the name Guinness does not appear.

In a previous blogpost, Ghinees hies good for you, I wrote about the smells of Dublin. You can read about it here.

King’s Bridge (North)

I pass Hueston, formerly Kingsbridge Station and run over the bridge from which it originally took its name. The run started at Sydney Parade, the opening railway station in the story  A Painful Case and it is apt that it ends near the station mentioned at the close of that story. Death appears at the opening of Dubliners and of the collection ends with The Dead, but it is at the end of A Painful Case where it is so keenly felt.

Beyond the river he saw a goods train winding out of Kingsbridge Station, like a worm with a fiery head winding through the darkness, obstinately and laboriously. It passed slowly out of sight but still he heard in his ears the laborious drone of the engine reiterating the syllables of her name.
    He turned back the way he had come, the rhythm of the engine pounding in his ears. He began to doubt the reality of what memory told him. He halted under a tree and allowed the rhythm to die away. He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

James Joyce, A Painful Case, Dubliners (Page 98,99)

Parkgate Street (West)

I now am running towards the Phoenix Park, close to where the little cakeshop near the Parkgate would have been and in which where Mr. Duffy and Mrs. Sinico had their last meeting. William O’Connor confectioner and caterer had premises at 32 and 40 Parkgate Street North, and this may be the location of the little cakeshop Joyce had in mind.

Chesterfield Avenue (North West)

Chesterfield avenue rises up into the Park and I run up the hill before turning left to my finish at the Wellington Monument. A hill at the end of a run is never easy, but I expect a much larger one on my next planned run, the Finnegans Wake 21k.

Wellington Monument: End

The run ends at the Wellington Monument, towards the west where Gabriel’s thoughts lie.

The snow would be lying on the branches of the trees and forming a bright cap on the top of the Wellington monument.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 166, 167)

The last story in Dubliners ends,

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce, The Dead, Dubliners (Page 194)

As Gabriel contemplates making the long journey westward, mine ends.

Running Notes

I planned a run that was 21.1 km long which is a half marathon. I used a map planner and you can see the details here. I planned a few different approaches to the monument in case my actual run was too short or too long. Once in the park I ran directly to the monument across the grass. My GPS indicated I had run 21.1km when I reached the Wellington Monument, and I ran around it to take it all in.

References cited

Banville, J. (2016) Time Pieces: A Dublin Memoir. Photographs by Paul Joyce. Dublin, Ireland: Hachette Books Ireland.

Casey, C. (2005) Dublin: The City within the Grand and Royal Canals and the Circular Road, with the Phoenix Park. New Haven, Connecticut, United States: Yale University Press.

Gifford, D. (1982) Joyce Annotated: Notes for Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged. 2nd edn. Berkeley, California, United States: University of California Press.

Griffith, L.M. and Wallace, C. (eds.) (2016) Grave Matters: Death and Dying in Dublin, 1500 to the Present. Dublin, Ireland: Four Courts Press.Joyce, J. (1986)

Ulysses: Corrected texts (ed. Gabler, H.W., with Steppe, W. and Melchior, C., Afterword Groden, M.) First Vintage Books Edition, New York, USA.

Joyce, J. (2006) Dubliners, Authoritative Text, Contexts, Criticism. Edited by Margot Norris, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Oram, H. (2014) The Little Book of Ballsbridge. Luton, United Kingdom: The History Press.


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrow, here


With thanks to Paul Sweeney for being the rabbit in the run.

and to my friend John Morkan, forever in the west.

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper



The Quadrangle at University College Cork


Cork Route on

   Stephen was once again seated beside his father in the corner of a railway carriage at Kingsbridge. He was travelling with his father by the night mail to Cork. As the train steamed out of the station he recalled his childish wonder of years before and every event of his first day in Clongowes. But he felt no wonder now. He saw the darkening lands slipping away past him, the silent telegraph poles passing his window swiftly every four seconds, the little glimmering stations, manned by a few silent sentries, flung by the mail behind her and twinkling for a moment in the darkness like fiery grains flung backwards by a runner.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 76)

James Joyce is famous for writing about Dublin. What is less well-known is his paternal ancestry in the county and city of Cork. His father, John Stanislaus Joyce was born in Cork in 1849 and father and son went together to the southern capital in 1893 for the sale of family property. James Joyce fictionalises the journey in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man when the young Stephen Dedalus visits Cork with his father Simon, making the journey south on the train from Kingsbridge, now Hueston Station.

John Stanislaus Joyce was an only child and on his birthday at the age of 21 on the 4th of July 1870, he inherited £1000 and properties with an annual rental income of £325.When his mother died in 1881, the year before James Joyce was born, John Stanislaus inherited property in Cork city with an annual rent of some £500 per year, the key part of which was on White Street, just to the south of the southern channel of the River Lee.

John Stanislaus Joyce was commonly known as Jack, just as his son James was commonly called Jim. His grandson Ken Monaghan writes.

Jack’s father James (another James) had married Ellen O’Connell who was the daughter of a wealthy Cork businessman and the young couple lived in a nice house in a fashionable suburb of the city. Jack was to be their only child and as such he was spoiled and cosseted and brought up to believe that the O’Connell-Joyces, as they called themselves, were special and that the male members of the family were gentlemen and should always behave as such. The latter idea appealed to young Jack since his concept of a gentleman was someone who would never have to work for a living. Jack Joyce throughout his life did his best to live up to this ideal.

Ken Monaghan Joyce’s Dublin Family (p.23,24)

His son Stanislaus described him, Pappie is the only child of an only child (his father) and therefore the spoiled son of a spoiled son, the spendthrift son of a spendthrift.

Stanislaus Joyce, The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce (p.5)

John Stanislaus left Cork for Dublin as a prosperous single man in the mid 1870’s. This all changed when he got there. His financial decline began in Dublin but it was largely influenced by events that took place in Cork.

Route Notes

Just as the Joyce’s and the Daedalus’s did, I took the train to Cork from Dublin, in my case from Hueston Station and in theirs, Kingsbridge. I passed through Port Laoise, then called Maryborough and arrived in Cork at Kent Station, formerly Glanmire Road Station. The journey was largely the same but all of the names have changed since the foundation of the Irish State.

Joyce wrote about his experiences of visiting Cork in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and he also wrote of travelling south by train in Ulysses where the train carrying Molly and Leopold Bloom is mentioned passing through Maryborough on its way to Mallow.

   At Maryborough he fell asleep. When he awoke the train had passed out of Mallow and his father was stretched asleep on the other seat. The cold light of the dawn lay over the country, over the unpeopled fields and the closed cottages. 

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 76)

Stephen fell asleep in Maryborough, the same place that Bloom buys some soup.

…something always happens with him the time going to the Mallow concert at Maryborough ordering boiling soup for the two of us then the bell rang out he walks down the platform with the soup splashing about taking spoonfuls of it hadnt he the nerve and the waiter after him making a holy show of us screeching and confusion for the engine to start but he wouldnt pay till he finished it the two gentlemen in the 3rd class carriage said he was quite right so he was too hes so pigheaded sometimes when he gets a thing into his head a good job he was able to open the carriage door with his knife or theyd have taken us on to Cork I suppose that was done out of revenge on him…

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 616)

Joyce last visited Cork on December 12th 1909 when he was setting up cinemas in Ireland, the first being the Volta Cinema in Mary Street, Dublin. Once again he went by train from Kingsbridge, returning to Dublin late on the same evening. His biographer Richard Ellmann notes that Joyce wrote to his brother Stanislaus “For five rainy dreary hours we were mooning around Cork.” Ellmann (p.302)

Unlike Joyce I arrive in Cork on a beautiful sunny evening.

The Start: Kent Station

The run begins at the entrance to Kent Station.


Kent Station, Cork

Lower Glanmire Road (West)

I am running, but Stephen and his father took a jingle, a horse drawn carriage, on their trip into the city. Interestingly the Joyce family were in the jingle business, John Stanislaus’s father, also named James Joyce, was the Inspector of Hackney Coaches in the city.

MacCurtain Street (West)

Lower Glanmire Road runs into MacCurtain Street. In Joyce’s time these were King’s Terrace and King Street and a tramline ran down the centre of the street. There is a great photo of King Street from c.1900 online here

Bridge Street (South)

I head south and cross the River Lee for the first time on this journey across Cork. In crossing Dublin I crossed the river Liffey once, but the centre of Cork is an island and I will cross the River Lee four times on this run.

Local historian Tom Spalding writes

Cork is unusual for an Irish city in having been largely developed on a series of Dutch-style reclaimed islands, or ‘polders’. Low-lying marshy areas were raised above the high-tide level using rubble and whatever else could be acquired. These islands were separated by estuarine channels ‘over which (were) small drawbridges, somewhat like those in Holland.’ Some of these could be raised to allow shipping to pass, as at the end of Drawbridge St., where a lifting bridge crossed over the branch of the Lee which ran down present-day Patrick’s St.

Tom Spalding, Layers: The Design, History and Meaning of Public Street Signage in Cork and other Irish Cities (p.22)

Saint Patrick’s Street (South)

All the maps and signs refer to Saint Patrick’s Street, but I have only ever heard it referred to locally as Patrick’s Street.

Stephen and his father Simon stayed at the Victoria Hotel, which is mid-way along Patrick Street on the southern side. Once a fine city centre hotel, it was put up for sale in 2014. You can see details of the proposed sale here

Simon Dedalus sings this to his son, Stephen Dedalus in the Hotel.

‘Tis youth and folly
Makes young men marry,
So here, my love, I’ll
No longer stay.
What can’t be cured, sure,
Must be injured, sure,
So I’ll go to

My love she’s handsome,
My love she’s boney:
She’s like good whisky
When it is new;
But when ’tis old
And growing cold
It fades and dies like
The mountain dew.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man  (p. 77)

Wyse Jackson and Costello, in their biography John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father (p.218) note that it was one of John Stanislaus’s favourite songs.

At the other end of the block Stephen and his father drank coffee in Newcombe’s coffeehouse.

   They had set out early in the morning from Newcombe’s coffeehouse, where Mr Dedalus’s cup had rattled noisily against its saucer, and Stephen had tried to cover that shameful sign of his father’s drinking bout of the night before by moving his chair and coughing.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man  (p. 82)

Newcombe’s coffee-house from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is almost certainly Newsom’s, which was located a few doors down from the Victoria Hotel at 41 Patrick Street. There are posters from Newsom’s Cafe de Paris from 1883 to view online hereYou can see Newsom’s Coffee House and the Victoria Hotel from the Lawrence Collection on here.

Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Place (North)

I crossed the street and went along Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Place. The church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul dominates the view and is where according To Richard Ellmann (p.13), James Joyce’s paternal grandparents, James Augustine Joyce and Ellen O’Connell, were married on February 28th 1848.

The church has an interesting website and is unusual as it has both external and internal Google Street View images. You can access them on the church website here.


Saint Peter and Saint Paul’s Catholic Church

Paul Street (West) Grand Parade (South) South Mall (East) 

I continue through the centre of Cork City, making my way towards the site of Joyce’s grandparents house. The Grand Parade was originally a water way, filled in in the latter half of the 18th century.

Parliament Street and Parliament Bridge (South)

I cross the River Lee for the second time over what was the most easterly fixed bridge on southern channel of the River Lee. Spalding notes that the names of Parliament Bridge and Street date from the 1760’s as Parliament provided the capital cost of the infrastructure (p.100).

George’s Quay (East)


Cork Historic Map 25 inch (1888-1913)

The route heads east along the riverbank getting closer to the area that the Joyce family lived and owned property in. Ellmann (p.38) lists sales in 1893 of ground and buildings to the rear of South Terrace, a coach house and stable in Stable Lane, ground and buildings at 7 and 8 Anglesea Street and premises in White Street.

You can see the area on 1888-1913 Ordnance Survey maps on here

Copley Street (East) Anglesea Street (South) South Terrace (West)

The run continues along Copley Street, passing around Anglesea Street and South Terrace. Rose Cottage, the Joyce family home was located at the junction of Anglesea Street and Copley Street. Simon Daedalus tells Stephen about getting caught smoking around the corner of South Terrace.

I’m talking to you as a friend, Stephen. I don’t believe in playing the stern father. I don’t believe a son should be afraid of his father. No, I treat you as your grandfather treated me when I was a young chap. We were more like brothers than father and son. I’ll never forget the first day he caught me smoking. I was standing at the end of the South Terrace one day with some maneens like myself and sure we thought we were grand fellows because we had pipes stuck in the corners of our mouths. Suddenly the governor passed. He didn’t say a word, or stop even. But the next day, Sunday, we were out for a walk together and when we were coming home he took out his cigar case and said: By the bye, Simon, I didn’t know you smoked: or something like that. —Of course I tried to carry it off as best I could. If you want a good smoke, he said, try one of these cigars. An American captain made me a present of them last night in Queenstown.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 80)

After I first published this blogpost a comment was posted by about the plaque in the ground outside 20 Anglesea Street.

The plaque reads:

James Augustine Joyce 1827 – 1866 (Grandfather of James Joyce 1882-1941) Resided in this house. James A Joyce was an Officer of the Cork Corporation by whom this plaque was provided 1984.

In the biography of John Stanislaus Joyce, the missing link between the two James Joyce’s mentioned on the plaque. Wyse Jackson and Costello, in John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father say that the Joyce house stood in its own grounds where Copley Street ran into Anglesea Street (page 24). This would seem to be on the opposite side of the street to the plaque.

White Street (South)

It is on this street that John Stanislaus Joyce most significant Cork property was located.

Douglas Street (West) and Abbey Street (West)

I chose to run along Douglas Street, passing the Presentation Convent where John Stanislaus made his First Holy Communion.

South Great Bridge and South Main Street (North)

The run heads north back across the River Lee and past the Beamish and Crawford Brewery. Guinness is much mentioned in the writings of James Joyce, and despite the fact that Simon and Stephen go from bar to bar after their property is sold, whether Simon drank Beamish and Crawford stout goes unmentioned.

Liberty Street, Sheares Street, Dyke Street (West)

These streets all mark the start of the road west out of the city centre towards the Mardyke. It is a popular walk to this day with the sun setting in the west at the end of the Mardyke.

Sheares Street was named after Henry and John Sheares, United Irishmen, executed in 1798. They are remembered in Ulysses.

   And the citizen and Bloom having an argument about the point, the brothers Sheares and Wolfe Tone beyond on Arbour Hill and Robert Emmet and die for your country, the Tommy Moore touch about Sara Curran and she’s far from the land. 

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 251)

Mardyke Walk (West)

  The leaves of the trees along the Mardyke were astir and whispering in the sunlight. A team of cricketers passed, agile young men in flannels and blazers, one of them carrying the long green wicket-bag…Stephen walked on at his father’s side, listening to stories he had heard before, hearing again the names of the scattered and dead revellers who had been the companions of his father’s youth.

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 79)

Great Western Road (East)

This road takes back to the east and towards the entrance to University College Cork, formerly Queen’s College.

Stephen’s father Simon studied at Queen’s College and he takes Stephen there as he is reminiscing about his time in Cork. As with much of their trip to Cork, it mirrors real events as John Stanislaus Joyce entered Queen’s College as a medical student in 1867.

I enter UCC as a runner, crossing the River Lee for the fourth and last time.

The Finish: The Quadrangle UCC

On the desk before him he read the word Foetus cut several times in the dark stained wood. The sudden legend startled his blood: he seemed to feel the absent students of the college about him and to shrink from their company. A vision of their life, which his father’s words had been powerless to evoke, sprang up before him out of the word cut in the desk. A broad-shouldered student with a moustache was cutting in the letters with a jackknife, seriously. 

James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (p. 78)

The run ends in the Quadrangle. Unsurprisingly I did not find the word Foetus carved anywhere in UCC. However there is a very interesting exhibition of Ogham stones in the cloisters. More meanings carved into objects a long time ago.

Route Planning

I know Cork reasonably well, but not well enough to run around not without some pre-planning. Like all the runs, I was looking for content in Joyce’s family biography, writings in the texts and also visual interest. Staring at the train station and ending at the Quadrangle in UCC took me along the city and across the Lee a number of times, and I freely passed a lot of pubs.

I guessed the route was about 7km but decided to use Google Maps to check. It gave a distance of 7.52km. The actual route I ran was 7.77km, though I did do a complete run around the quadrangle. Next time I may take a trip across the Lee and up to Sunday’s Well which is also mentioned in the texts.


Google Maps Cork Run

I also used Apple Maps to look over the route and look for visual cues so I would know when to turn down a street.


Apple Maps Cork City Centre

References cited

Costello, P. and Jackson, J.W. (1998) John Stanislaus Joyce: The Voluminous Life and Genius of James Joyce’s Father. London, United Kingdom: Fourth Estate.

Ellmann, R. (1983) James Joyce: New and Revised Edition. New York, United States: Oxford University Press.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts Criticism. Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Joyce, S. (1994) The Complete Dublin Diary of Stanislaus Joyce. Edited by George H. Healey. Dublin, Ireland: Anna Livia Press.

Monaghan, K. (2005) Joyce’s Dublin Family. Dublin: The James Joyce Centre.

Spalding, T. (2013) Layers: The Design, History and Meaning of Public Street Signage in Cork and other Irish Cities. Foreward by Phil Baines edn. Dublin, Ireland: Associated Editions. Accessed 25 May 2016 Accessed 25 May 2016,567855,571556,11,9. Accessed 19th June 2016


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrowhere


Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper


Thanks to Tom Spalding for all his Cork related advice. Thanks also to the reader Frank for his comments regarding the plaque in the ground outside 20 Anglesea Street.



5 St. Peter’s Road, formerly 7 St. Peter’s Terrace, Cabra


Pub Puzzle Route Map on

Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub. Save it they can’t.

James Joyce, Ulysses (p. 48).

Leopold Bloom posed his famous puzzle in the novel Ulysses as he wandered out to buy a kidney for his breakfast on the 16th June 1904.

Can you cross Dublin without passing a pub? Can you cross it now? Could you cross it in 1904?

In June 2011 Computer Programmer Rory McCann used computers to solve the puzzle. He plotted the locations of the existing public houses and he used algorithms to avoid them. To solve the puzzle, he set rules, and you can read about his solution here.


I decided to solve the same puzzle, but choosing a journey that Joyce or Leopold Bloom would likely have made and using my own set of rules.

Rule One: Relevancy

The first rule is that the route has to have some relevancy to the writings of James Joyce, and or his actual life in Dublin. This rule pretty much defines all the runs in these blog posts.

I very quickly decided to try to find a route from 5 St.Peter’s Road in Cabra, the Joyce family home on 1904, on the north-west side of the city to 60 Shelbourne Road on the south-east side. I am interested in the Joyce family’s financial decline and its associations with their moving steadily northward through Dublin. As soon as he got a chance, James Joyce moved directly south from the family home to Shelbourne Road.

Rule Two: Cross Dublin

The second rule is that you actually have to cross Dublin. Skirting the edges of the city is not good enough. Starting outside the city and passing through the centre is ideal.

It would be relatively simple to skirt the city, keeping to the canal or city edges. I decided to run through it. This presents problems as the centre of Dublin has a lot of pubs.

Rule Three: Don’t Pass a Pub

The most fundamental of rules. Passing a pub would be defined as passing by an entrance door to a public house, either on the same side, or on the opposite side of the street.

I decided that although Hotels, Wine Bars and Off Licences are places you can get a drink, they do not count as they are not public houses. I decided to try to avoid them anyway.

Armed with a set off rules I began my game.

The Solution

The general solution did not take long to figure out. The details did. I made a lot of trial runs and some walks, and at least one false start. I discovered pubs along the way, all of which had to be avoided and led to some contortions of the route, but the route is largely linear and directly links the two points. Bloom undergoes a lot more diverse wanderings and covers more distance on the 16th June 1904.

In devising the route the first thing to avoid is nearly all corners. To paraphrase an old joke, Why did Ireland never win the World Cup? Because every time they got a corner they opened a pub. You cannot avoid all corners, but you can avoid large junctions such as the main one in Phibsborough.

Route Notes

In the route descriptions I have used present day street names. It was very common for names of streets and house numbers to be changed in Dublin. I have noted several in the text.

I have used various Thom’s directories for historical information. Thom’s produce an almanac every year with information on residents and businesses in Dublin, amongst other facts. Generally I used the Thom’s of 1905, as its publication date is December 31st 1904, and its contents reflect locations in 1904. The directories are available to read in the Dublin City Library and Archive, 138-144 Pearse Street, Dublin 2. D02 HE37.

I have referred to Roger Norburn’s A James Joyce Chronology for key dates.

In the descriptions below I have made reference to present day and historic Ordnance Survey digital maps on and I have referred to the Historic Map 25 inch set from 1888 – 1913, which show the layout of the city that most closely matches the layout of 16th June 1904. Google Street View and Apple Maps are useful tools.

Nothing compares to going out and seeing the city on foot.

County Dublin

In 1904, addresses in Phibsborough are listed in the County Dublin Directory. The 1908 directory notes that Phibsborough has been amalgamated with the City of Dublin and in 1909 the streets of Phibsborough are listed in the City of Dublin Street Directory.

So the run begins outside of Dublin, as defined in 1904.

You can see the present day map of the area on here

You can see the Historic Map 25 inch (1888-1913) map on here

The Start: 5 Saint Peter’s Road, formerly 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace Cabra (North)

The Joyce family moved to 7 St. Peter’s Terrace Cabra on October 24th 1902. Norburn (p. 12)

Thom’s directory of 1903 (p.1738), 1904 (p.743) and 1905 (p.1799) list a John Joyce, James’s father as living at 7 St. Peter’s Terrace Cabra.

In the 1906 edition of Thom’s there is no St. Peter’s Terrace, as it appears to have been amalgamated into the listing for St. Peter’s Road. And there is no John Joyce living on the road.

We depart, as did James Joyce, in our case heading north.

Shandon Street (North) and Shandon Park (West)

Neither Shandon Street nor Shandon Park appear in the 1904 and 1905 editions of Thom’s and were most likely open fields. The first houses of Shandon Road can be seen in the 25 inch Ordnance Survey Map (1888 – 1913), with the first listings beginning in Thom’s of 1915.

The open land is probably the location where “He drives his beasts above Cabra” from the poem Tilly is set. You can see a blog post about the poem here.


1888-2013 Map showing open fields north of St. Peter’s Terrace


Present day may showing developed lands north of St. Peter’s Road

The Royal Canal Towpath (East)

A short distance to the north of Shandon Park is the Royal Canal Towpath, accessed through a laneway and a small park.

The Royal Canal Towpath to Royal Canal Bank (East)

The route goes east along the Royal Canal partly because it is pleasant but also to avoid Smith’s pub on Phibsborough Road. The surroundings are little changed from 1904.

It crosses Phibsborough Road at Cross Gunn’s Bridge, crossing Paddy Dignam’s funeral route, close to its end at Glasnevin Cemetery.

Royal Canal Bank to the North Circular Road (South)

There is a major change when Royal Canal Bank turns south. The canal has been filled in and is now a road. Bloom would have had to cross  the canal at Blacquiere Bridge on the North Circular Road. So the route follows the line of the former canal before turning east on North Circular Road.

North Circular Road (East)

This is a busy road with commercial activity and it may be that there was a pub in this location in 1904. Thom’s of 1904 lists a butcher a chemist and a draper amongst others, but as far as I can see, no public house (p.1606).

Much of the layout of roads is the same as in 1904 and the route passes the rear of the original Mater Hospital. Bloom could have easily come this way from his house on nearby Eccles Street.

Glengarriff Parade (North)

The route turns into Glengarriff Parade, passing close to another of Joyce’s residences, 32 Glengarriff Parade. Just as 7 Saint Peter’s Terrace became 5 Saint Peter’s Road. 32 Glengarriff Parade is now 10 Glengarriff Parade. The route passes both houses.

Karl Whitney writes amusingly about this and all of Joyce’s Dublin residences in his book Hidden Dublin, Adventures and Explorations in Dublin.

Inisfallen Parade (East)

Inisfallen Parade is a long straight road that runs down to Dorset Street. Thom’s has little to say about it. 89 small houses (p.1568).

Belvidere Road  and Belvedere Place (South East)

Crossing Dorset Street you continue along Belvidere Road. The more common Dublin spelling is Belvedere. The Ordnance Survey have Belvidere Road leading to Belvidere Place on both the modern and historical mapping, whereas Google Maps have Belvidere Road leading to Belvedere Place, as do the street signs. Apple Maps have Belvedere Road leading to Belvedere Place. Thom’s lists Belvidere-place and Belvidere-Road. Things get more confusing as gaelige, where Belvedere is spelt Belbidír, Belvidír and Belbhidir as you can see in the photographs below.

It’s not just Finnegans Wake that plays with language.




Time to move on.

Joyce went to the nearby Belvedere College and does not mention Belvedere Road or Belvedere Place in his texts. But it is known that he did visit the house of David Sheehy M.P., whose wife approaches the very reverend John Conmee S. J. on Mountjoy Square in the Wandering Rocks episode of Ulysses (p.180)David Sheedy and a Miss Sheedy, elocutionist, are listed in Thom’s as living in the house at 2 Belvidere-Place (p.1470).

Mountjoy Square East (South East)

The route passes the junction of Mountjoy Square East with Fitzgibbon Street, where Joyce lived in 14 Fitzgibbon Street, now number 34, and past the site of the postbox that Fr. Conmee gets Master Brunny Lynam to post the letter into in Ulysses (p.181). The postbox is no longer there. The postbox is listed as a Pillar Letter-Box in Thom’s (p.1470), and it can be seen as a dot on the ordnance survey map of the time.

Vivien Igoe in James Joyce’s Dublin Houses & Nora Barnacle’s Galway (p.50,51) writes of the meeting between Fr. Conmee and John Joyce on the corner of the square, leading to Joyce studying in Belvedere College without having to pay fees.

The meeting is fictionalised in A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man (p.62)

—I walked bang into him, said Mr Dedalus for the fourth time, just at the corner of the square.
—Then I suppose, said Mrs Dedalus, he will be able to arrange it. I mean about Belvedere.
—Of course he will, said Mr Dedalus. Don’t I tell you he’s provincial of the order now?
—I never liked the idea of sending him to the christian brothers myself, said Mrs Dedalus.
—Christian brothers be damned! said Mr Dedalus. Is it with Paddy Stink and Mickey Mud? No, let him stick to the jesuits in God’s name since he began with them. They’ll be of service to him in after years. Those are the fellows that can get you a position.
—And they’re a very rich order, aren’t they, Simon?
—Rather. They live well, I tell you. You saw their table at Clongowes. Fed up, by God, like gamecocks.

Mountjoy Square South and Greville Street (South West)

As the route moves into Greville Street it crosses over the route that Bloom and Stephen Daedalus traveled on their way northwards to 7 Eccles Street after their trip to the cabmans shelter in the Eumaeus episode of Ulysses.

Thom’s lists D’Oli, Eugene Jermon, family grocer and wine merchant (p.1558) as being located on the corner of Hill Street and Greville Street, but again, not necessarily a public house and not listed separately as such in Thom’s.

Hill Street and Cumberland Street North (South East)

In Hill Street the run passes the tower of Little St. George’s, the bells from which were moved from Hill Street to the new St. George’s in Hardwick Place.

The bells are heard pealing repeatedly Heigho, heigho, in Ulysses. They are heard by Bloom in the morning and by Stephen Daedalus and Bloom on the doorstep of 7 Eccles Street (p.578) when they return after their adventures in Nighttown, where the bells form one of the characters in the Circe episode (p.384).

Hill Street

Little St. George’s, Hill Street

We cross Parnell Street, which in 1904 was Great Britain Street North and go directly into North Cumberland Street.

There are no pubs on these corners today, nor as far as I can see in Thom’s, in 1904.

Sean McDermott Street Upper (North East)

Sean Mac Dermott Street was originally Upper Gloucester Street, renamed like many streets after Irish patriots. The route heads north east again along the street, before crossing Gardiner Street and continuing to Gloucester Place Lower.

Gloucester Place Lower (South East)

The route is now in one of the areas of the city that has most changed the most since Joyce’s time in Dublin. We are in the former Nighttown, prominently featured in the Circe episode of Ulysses. A haven of brothels and slums, largely obliterated, replaced by Corporation houses and offices.

Railway Street (South West)

Railway Street was originally Tyrone Street Lower, where Bella Cohen the brothel keeper lived at number 82. She lived at the eastern side of Tyrone Street Lower, towards Buckingham Street. We head in the opposite direction towards Mabbot Lane.

If we continued straight on we would be in James Joyce Street, formerly Mabbot Street.

Mabbot Lane and Moland Place (South East)

The centre of Dublin is a concentration of pubs, so to avoid many of them the route goes down Mabbot Lane going by a series of lanes towards the back of the Custom House. Thom’s lists carriage builders and stores as the laneway’s main uses in 1904 (p.1585).

Moland Place is not listed separately in Thom’s, but the intersection with Talbot street is. there were no pubs here in 1904. It is at the southern end of Moland Place that the route comes closest to a pub. It runs down the side of one, but the gable end of the pub has no entrance or windows onto Moland Place.

Frenchman’s Lane (South West)

This lane takes the route back to Gardiner Street, passing under the Loopline Railway Bridge for the first time. Thom’s lists Frenchman’s Lane as being free of Public Houses, though a wine bar has recently opened up, a few evenings a week.

Beresford Place (South)

The route goes south and to the western side of the Customs House, passing where Stephen and Bloom begin their walk back to 7 Eccles Street, passing Gumley minding stones for the Corporation in Ulysses (p. 112, 539).

Custom House Quay (East)

We pass under a different section of the Loopline Bridge passing the former site of the cabman’s shelter from the Eumaeus episode of Ulysses.

In Joyce’s time the Loopline Bridge was the most easterly bridge on the River Liffey with downstream crossings happening by Ferry. Bridge crossings with concentrated footfalls attract even more pubs and it is necessary to run east along the front of the Custom House and cross by the Matt Talbot bridge to avoid them.

Matt Talbot Bridge (South)

Up until this point the route layout has been on roads and paths that existed in 1904. But we now cross over a new bridge. This proves that this route could not have been used by Bloom in 1904.

We cross over Anna Livia Plurabelle.

City Quay and Sir John Rogerson’s Quay (East)

The new development at City Quay has changed much of the street layout and the route has to go along the quays to avoid pubs placed in and around it.

    *By lorries along sir John Rogerson’s quay Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask’s the linseed crusher, the postal telegraph office. Could have given that address too. And past the sailors’ home. He turned from the morning noises of the quayside and walked through Lime street. Ulysses (p.58)

Lime Street (South)

As Bloom turns southwards from the quays into Lime Street, so do we.

Hanover Street East (East)

Bloom goes west at this point, but we go east, heading towards Ringsend Village.

Macken Street (South)

We turn south into Macken Street, formerly Great Clarence Street.

Pearse Street and Ringsend Road (East)

We turn eastwards along Pearse Street, formerly Great Brunswick Street, heading to Ringsend, in the opposite direction to Paddy Dignam’s funeral procession in Ulysses.

Fitzwilliam Quay (South)

Thom’s lists Ringsend (p.1833) as being in the County Dublin Directory, so having crossed over the bridge we have finally crossed Dublin.

The route turns south just before Tunney’s pub, now the Oarsman, in Ringsend Village. Tunney’s is mentioned several times in Ulysses, as a grocer’s frequented by Gerty  MacDowell (p.291) and a pub favoured by Paddy Dignam (p.207).

The route passes the field where the boys have An Encounter in Dubliners and past the plaque on the wall commemorating the Swan River, mentioned in Finnegans Wake. You can read more about this section in a previous blog post here

Newbridge Avenue and Lansdowne Road (West)

At this point the route is close to where Paddy Dignam’s funeral departed for Glasnevin, from 8 Newbridge Avenue, which is a short distance to the east. We go in the opposite direction along Lansdowne Road.

We are now back in the city with Shelbourne Road and Lansdowne Road listed as such in Thom’s.

The end: Shelbourne Road (North)

The last turn is north onto Shelbourne Road, finishing shortly thereafter, to the endpoint at number 60, identified, as is the house on St. Peter’s Terrace, with a commemorative plaque.

Joyce rented a room from a Mrs. McKernan where he lived here from April to August 1904, departing to stay briefly at 35 Strand Road (Norburn p.20) on the night of 16th June 1904, the day on which Ulysses is set.

The Problem with the Solution

The solution only works in the present day. Whilst it generally follows a route available in 1904, it crosses a bridge that was not in existence and passes some locations where pubs were almost certainly present at that time.

The route does not pass any present day pubs, but it does pass a wine bar. The wine bar only opens three nights a week and is hardly a public house. Anyway it’s my game, and to an extent, these are my rules.

The 1904 Solution

I have not solved the puzzle for the time in which it was set, 1904. It can possibly be solved for 1904, but not by using this route. The following establishments were located along the route and are listed in the 1905 Thom’s Directory.

“Fogarty, P., grocer, tea, wine and spirit merchant” at number 35 Hill Street (p.1550).

McEvoy, Michael, wine merchant and bonder of whiskey” at number 13, North Gloucester Street (p.1551).

Smyth, Patrick, grocer and spirit merchant” at number 24 City Quay.(p.1499)

But are they public houses? Thom’s lists the following categories of alcohol vendors separately:

Spirit Dealers

Taverns and Inns

Vintners and Publicans

Wine and Spirit Merchants

It is difficult to know the exact difference between all of the categories. But Davy Byrne’s, perhaps the most famous Public House in Ulysses is listed as David Byrne, a wine and spirit merchant under the listing for Duke Street (p.1526) . He also appears in the wine and spirit dealers lists. So a wine and spirit dealer can be a public house.

P. Fogarty of Hill Street and Smyth of City Quay do not appear in any of the alcohol vendor categories. But Michael McEvoy of North Gloucester Street appears as a wine merchant and bonder of whiskey. His premises are located on a corner and it was probably a busy public house.


Thom’s 1904 Vintners and Publicans List

Some of these obstacles can be overcome by minor route changes. The puzzle will not be solved until you can prove that Dublin could be crossed without passing a pub in 1904, something that is the subject of my further research. My initial conclusions are that Bloom was probably right, you couldn’t cross Dublin without passing a pub.

But as has been noted, why bother? A simple solution to cross Dublin without passing a pub is simply to go into all of them.

References cited

Igoe, V. (2006) James Joyce’s Dublin Houses and Nora Barnacle’s Galway. Dublin, Ireland: Lilliput Press.

Joyce, J. (1998) Ulysses. Edited by Hans Walter Gabler, Wolfhard Steppe, and Claus Melchior. Afterword by Michael Gordon edn. New York, United States: Vintage Books.

Joyce, J. (2007) A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts Criticism. Edited by John Paul Riquelme, Hans Walter Gabler, and Walter Hettche. New York, United States: Norton, W. W. & Company.

Norburn, R. (2004) A James Joyce Chronology. London, United Kingdom: Palgrave Macmillan.

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1902) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1903. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1903) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1904. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Thom’s & Co. (Limited) (1904) Thom’s Official Directory of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland for the Year 1905. Dublin, Ireland: Alex. Thom’s & Co. (Limited)

Whitney, K. (2014) Hidden City: Adventures and Explorations in Dublin. Dublin, Ireland: Penguin Ireland. Accessed May 16th, 2016,578432,756724,0,10. Accessed May 16th, 2016


There is a longer bibliography of background material here


You can see more on my research output on the Dublin Institute of Technology repository Arrowhere

Click here to see the route details on Runkeeper

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