Nostalgia for piking fools

I Love 1798 (RTE 1, Monday)

I Love 1798 (RTE 1, Monday)

Was it really so long ago? Well, yes it was. Two hundred and three years, to be precise. But we still all remember pitchcapping, mass executions, redcoat atrocities, public floggings and invasions by the French. I Love 1798 on RTE 1 (based on recent nostalgia shows on BBC 2 remembering the 1970s and 1980s) certainly conjured up some fascinating words and images, not least from the world of fashion. How did anyone ever wear those big boots and funny wigs!!

Most of the people interviewed on the show (all of whom were at least 210 years old) reminisced fondly about 1798 trivia. Phelim Conlon, a barrel maker from New Ross, remembered handling a pike for the first time at the battle of Vinegar Hill. The pike was to 1798 what the Gameboy was to 1989. The first one I had was very makeshift. But you absolutely had to have one, or you'd feel really left out.

I remember absolutely begging my Dad to buy me one for Christmas. One of my friends at school had a really great looking one made out of steel, but the one I had was really cheap. Then one day, the word was that there was a battle at Vinegar Hill. I remember assembling with my little pike, and hoping that none of the other fellas would laugh at me. But the main thing about it was that it really worked. I took out six or seven people with it!

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Sean Dolan, a village idiot from Wexford town, remembered being taken prisoner by the British, and tortured in the main street of the town. I knew there was going to be trouble, because the British were in a very, very bad mood! They grabbed me and then, of course, I saw that they were going to stick a pitch cap on me, and I though uh-oh, here goes! They put some boiling tar into a little cap, and stuck it onto my head. The pain!! It was really, really sore. But it was just incredibly fashionable, and everyone had it done at the time. It would be a bit like having a little pin in your nose the way kids have today.

One of the icons of the day was Napper Tandy. Lilian Russell, a peasant girl in Kildare, remembered: "Nearly every teenage girl's bedroom had a picture of Napper Tandy stuck on it. He was the Ronan Keating of the day. I suppose you could say the United Irishmen were the equivalent of Westlife. But of course, they didn't make CDs or appear on Top Of The Pops. Some girls were big fans of Wolfe Tone, and others were fans of Napper. It was a bit like Bros versus Brother Beyond. I much preferred Napper. He was gorgeous!"

Next week's show looks at 1886. No doubt there will be much talk of land agitation and Home Rule acts.

Excellent news on my fundraising campaign to set up a Tribunal to publicly name the members of the cast of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat who burned down my house in 1975. I have received my first contribution, from reader Des Farrell. It is not a massive amount (one penny), but I think it is only right to keep everything above board, and to publicly declare it here as a contribution to my fund.

Mr Farrell did not ask me for any favour in return, and I expect the favour anybody would expect for a penny would be miniscule; perhaps feeding his dog, or advising him on holiday destinations. However, if Mr Farrell did approach me with such suggestions, I would quite properly turn him down, so as not to compromise my integrity.

It is shameful to see the shenanigans of certain politicians in this country who seem so easily corrupted, and as I know that many young and impressionable people read this column, I think I should set an example of goodness, grace and serenity.

People who know me always say that I remind them very much of Joan of Arc, and I think this is an accurate appraisal, despite the fact that I never actually met the saintly French soldier/lady. A friend of mine has suggested that should my fund top the million pound mark (and with Mr Farrell's contribution, I think I am well on the way to that figure), then I should consider using any excess funds to erect a statue of myself in the Phoenix Park. This might seem a bit egotistical, but if a statue of me would have the effect of inspiring the nation in a Jack Charlton-type way, then it would be a selfish act on my part to dismiss the suggestion out of hand. In the meantime, I shall await further contributions.

Cheques made out to cash are preferable.

Arthur Mathews's comic novel, Well Remembered Days, is published by Macmillan