‘A dense mass of people… many disgusting... some very drunk and very pugilistic… others used ugly “cuss words” and sang nasty songs… crush and confusion... a crawling baby spluttering about in the mud… nearby, its drunken parents…’ That’s August Bank Holiday 1891 for you, as swarms of day trippers returned to Cork on special excursion trains, after attending the Monkstown Regatta (Skibbereen Eagle, 8 August 1891). This weekend, another bank holiday beckons in Ireland – the sixth of ten public holidays these days, now that St Brigid’s Day has been added.

Bank holidays were the brainchild of banker-turned-politician, John Lubbock, Liberal MP for Maidstone, Kent, who kept a pet wasp and tried training his poodle to read. From years of personal experience, Lubbock knew how hard bank employees worked and wanted to reward them with a day of what he called ‘repose and recreation’. Seeing as friends and relations would get the same day off, they could ‘enjoy their holiday together’. Cynics claimed that Lubbock, a cricket fanatic, deliberately chose the bank holiday dates to fall on days when village cricket matches were played in
Kent.

The Bank Holidays Act, 1871, added four non-working days to people’s lives: Easter Monday, Whit Monday, the first Monday in August, and St Stephen’s Day. For anyone with a nasty invoice to pay, the holiday was a bonus, since bills due on a bank holiday need not be settled until the following day. Bank clerks greeted the news enthusiastically: when a bank holiday came along, they could clock off at midday on Saturday and not return to work until Tuesday morning. Over 14,000 of them contributed one shilling each to buy Lubbock a splendid £700 gift. Before long, government offices, businesses, shops and schools across England were also taking a day off. On warm August bank holidays, those living in grimy towns could now enjoy a train trip into the countryside, or savour the bracing air of a seaside resort such as Margate in Kent. The News of the World exclaimed: ‘Blessings on the head of Sir John Lubbock, who invented a decent excuse for holidays to Englishmen.’ Some people even referred to Bank Holidays as ‘Saint Lubbock’s days’.

Reaction in Ireland

Far from blessing Lubbock – who opposed Home Rule – many Irish people resented a ‘Parliamentary holiday’ foisted on them by the British government in London. The first year, 1871, it was ‘business as usual’, even in Dublin – apart from at the Stock Exchange. Whit Monday was historically the day for local fairs, when shops and banks remained open. Traditions are traditions: in Roscommon, the ‘courteous’ manager of the National Bank ‘waived his privilege’ and opened the bank on fair day as usual ‘for the accommodation of his numerous customers’ and to avoid causing ‘a very serious inconvenience’, reported the local newspapers.

Plenty agreed with him. The Bank Holiday tended to ‘upset business rather than liberate it’, declared the Ballinrobe Chronicle (August 12th 1871). Here in West Cork, the Easter Monday bank holiday in Macroom was said to ‘militate against’ the pig fair, causing the supply of pigs to be ‘below the average’ (Southern Star, April 16th 1898). Furthermore (until 1939), a day off meant a day without pay, something which workers could ill afford. Some 20 years after its introduction, Lubbock’s initiative was still being described in Cork as ‘rather a novelty’, and the Easter Monday and Whit Monday bank holidays were largely ignored. The best way Cork city shopkeepers could truly ‘enjoy’ the May holidays was ‘to rake in the sheckels’ from country folk. (Skibbereen Eagle, August 8th 1891). Many shops were not merely open, they were wide open, running ‘bank holiday sales’!

The Paris Studio offered bank holiday visitors discounts on photos; and Atkins marketed their regular stock of handbags, driving aprons, railway wraps – and, notably, umbrellas – as ‘bank holiday travel equisites’. The August bank holiday was an altogether different matter, and by the late 1890s the Southern Star was announcing the closure of countless shops that day, including Allman & Co distillers, Bandon, and all the drapers in Bantry.

‘Various and pleasant’ events were on offer throughout West Cork, including regattas in Baltimore and Lough Ine, and the Kinsale Annual Show, with dogs, birds, flowers and fruit. The Protestant Young Men’s Association arranged a visit to Skibbereen, Bantry and Glengarriff; and the Skibbereen Young Men’s Society Cycle Club held a social evening at Glandore. Unfortunately, the day also came to be overshadowed by rowdiness and accidents. As early as 1898, Punch magazine quipped: ‘On the day of St Lubbock, there is no place like home.’ Although for many, a bank holiday offers ‘an oasis in the desert of life’s drudgery and toil’ (Freeman’s Journal, August 3rd 1895), for others it remains an annoying interruption to the rhythm of daily life: a wasted day when nothing can get done, nightmare traffic jams, and buses operating a Sunday service. On August bank holiday 1901, Skibbereen taught the holidaying bankers of Cork city a lesson with a 101-run thrashing in St Lubbock’s favourite sport: cricket. However, it looks as though bank holidays are here to stay. Besides, it could be worse: until 1834 we celebrated an eye-watering 33 saints’ days every year. Plenty of other countries today must endure many more public holidays than Ireland: Italy, for example has 14, and India a whopping 21. Chin up! Happy June bank holiday!

Baltimore and Skibbereen Annual Regatta, 7 August 1893 (Southern Star, 15 July 1893, p.4).