Eight hundred children puncture the pomp as turbans go to their heads

They gave her the mother of all Hail Marys, chanting her name repeatedly and cheering her on like a pop star or footballer. All traces of stuffiness went out the window as an army of 800 children took over Dublin Castle for the inauguration.

It wasn't quite a "musical wonderland for children", but it was certainly a breath of fresh air amid the pomp and protocol of the ceremony.

For hours before the proceedings began, children from all 32 counties had lined up patiently behind the crash barriers around the Upper Castle Yard.

Then, as the dignitaries arrived, the children responded according to a simple formula: one cheer for a limousine, two for a stretch limo, and three for a stretch limo bearing anyone with a turban.

Gerry Adams, Mary O'Rourke and John Bruton scored highly on the cheerometer, but Charles Haughey went relatively unnoticed. The former Taoiseach told RTE he was one of the first politicians to launch Mary McAleese on a political career.

Mary Robinson arrived to the shout of "Up Mayo!" and there was a special cheer for David Norris when he pedalled in.

Mo Mowlam distinguished herself by being the only guest to come and talk to the children, though Gerry Adams seemed to be heading in their direction until he was ambushed by the media.

"They're just checking his invitation," cracked Denis Browne from Causeway Comprehensive school in Co Kerry, as Adams stalled with Martin McGuinness and Caomhghin O Caolain in the centre of the yard.

Fourteen-year-old Denis is a Labour supporter - Dick Spring, he's sound out! - but even he joined in the chant of "We want Mary" as noon approached.

Finally, at 11.52 a.m., the President-elect's Rolls-Royce pulled in, preceded by an escort of Army motorcycle outriders. She emerged from the car to chants of "Mary! Mary! Mary!" before disappearing inside for the serious business.

For an hour, the children amused themselves as children do. They looked at television coverage of the ceremony - a little - and horsed about with balloons - a lot.

But everyone was back in place in good time for the re-emergence of the newly inaugurated President. There were times when the cheering threatened to drown out the marching commands of the chief marshal to the guard of honour.

Then it was time for the rush to the barricades as the President toured the yard to shake hands with the children. Little Eimear Lowe, of Woodbrook national school in Carrick-on-Shannon, Co Leitrim - the alma mater of President McAleese's father - presented her with a bouquet and wished her well in a poem she read out in Irish.

Clockwise, the President worked the crowd in canvassing mode, meeting the outstretched limbs with both hands and a friendly Northern greeting: "Och, how are you doin?"; "Keep the faith"; "God bless".

The children responded with giggles, smiles, even tears. Catherine McConnell and Claire Campbell from Termonfeckin national school in Co Louth - "Dustin country" - told me the day was a "miracle to last the rest of our lives".

Twelve-year-old Taxiya Shidaad, from the Muslim school in Clonskeagh, Dublin, punched the air after she got to shake the President's hand. Taxiya, whose Dublin accent belies the fact that she is from Somalia, says she hopes the President will be able to grant her her one wish, to become an Irish citizen.

Her friend Zarah Shah thought the occasion was "very enjoyable, especially the limousines". But her favourite politicians was Ruairi Quinn, because he had opened her father's restaurant.

By now, Mrs McAleese was with old friends from her former school, St Dominic's high school on the Falls Road in Belfast.

Then, the circle of the yard completed, she returned to the saluting point, from where she departed in the Rolls for Aras an Uachtarain.

For the President, there was lunch in the Park; for the children, chips in the castle. Even this army marches on its stomach.