When Trinity Became a Stronghold: The College’s Role in the 1916 Easter Rising
In the spring of 1916, as Ireland was convulsed by the Easter Rising, Trinity College found itself at the heart of a city under siege. Over a tense week in late April, the college was transformed into a fortified outpost for Crown forces, patrolled by armed guards and barricaded against potential rebel attack. Although many accounts of the Rising focus on locations such as the General Post Office (GPO) and the Four Courts, Trinity’s lesser known role reveals how quickly the centuries old institution became embroiled in a major historical turning point.
The Outbreak of the Rising
The Rising began on Easter Monday, 24 April 1916, when members of the Irish Volunteers and the Irish Citizen Army occupied key sites in Dublin with the aim of ending British rule and establishing an independent Irish republic. The decision to strike was controversial even among Irish nationalists, but the rebels ultimately launched their insurrection while the United Kingdom was deeply engaged in the First World War. Post Office buildings, government offices, and other strategic locations were swiftly seized. Skirmishes and gunfights erupted around the city, most prominently around Sackville Street (now O’Connell Street), where the rebels chose the GPO as their headquarters.
Trinity College, located near College Green and flanked by bustling thoroughfares, quickly became a place of acute concern for British military leaders. Established under Queen Elizabeth I in 1592, TCD had long-standing historical ties to the Crown. Its central position, close to the Old Houses of Parliament (now the Bank of Ireland), and the possibility of using the college’s rooftops for artillery or surveillance, made it highly valuable from a defensive point of view. Crown forces were determined not to let the rebels establish any foothold within TCD’s walls.
Securing the College
From the first hours of the Rising, orders were issued to secure Trinity and prevent its capture by the insurgents. Staff and student volunteers worked alongside British soldiers to lock the gates and place armed sentries at every possible entrance. Eye-witnesses describe hasty construction of barricades: furniture from common rooms and dining halls, as well as sandbags, were used to block doorways and vulnerable points. Corridors and quads that typically echoed with the footfall of academics and undergraduates fell under near martial law.
Throughout the week, the sound of gunfire rattled beyond the college walls. Some watchers were placed on rooftops, scanning the cityscape for any sign of rebel movement. Various accounts mention that a small contingent of students—whether motivated by loyalty to the Crown or simply a desire to defend their institution—volunteered to assist the military. Although Trinity officially remained neutral as an academic institution, these individuals helped maintain internal order and keep watch for possible incursions.
The college’s Fellows and staff faced a difficult balancing act. On one hand, they had a duty of care to students who were unable to leave the city due to the unrest. On the other, they were pressured by Crown forces to cooperate in maintaining Trinity as a bulwark. Food supplies were stockpiled, with kitchens repurposed to feed not just faculty and students but also the soldiers stationed on campus. A number of individuals recalled sleeping in hallways or common rooms, fully clothed, prepared to respond if an attack came in the night.
The Threat of Rebel Attack
Meanwhile, rumours swirled regarding whether the rebels intended to seize Trinity. Given the college’s imposing architecture, strategic location, and symbolic alignment with British authority, it was indeed considered a likely target. However, numerous factors prevented an all-out assault. The rebels were stretched thin across multiple key sites and lacked the manpower to launch a risky attack against a position heavily reinforced by professional soldiers. Furthermore, the approach to the college was covered by rifle fire from vantage points on TCD’s rooftops and behind its massive gates. It appears that this show of strength, combined with the rebels’ focus on other, more crucial strongholds, dissuaded any direct attempts to storm Trinity’s perimeter.
At the same time, sporadic gun battles in adjacent streets underscored the very real danger. Some shot-out windows and bullet impacts remained visible on nearby buildings for years, a silent testimony to the ferocity of the fighting in central Dublin. Every day, TCD staff and students heard the thunder of gunfire and artillery reverberating across the Liffey. Though the campus was not subjected to heavy bombardment or a prolonged siege, nerves were on edge as the Rising raged beyond the ancient walls.
The Aftermath and a Return to Normalcy
The Easter Rising lasted from 24 April until 29 April, when the main rebel garrison, located at the GPO, surrendered. Over those tumultuous days, more than 400 people were killed, thousands were wounded, and large sections of central Dublin lay in ruins. Trinity escaped significant physical damage, but its close brush with the violence left a profound impression on everyone who experienced it. Reflecting on those events, one Fellow later remarked on the surreal transformation of the college, marvelling at how quickly an institution devoted to scholarship could resemble a fortress in a city at war.
Following the official end of hostilities, Crown forces maintained a strong presence in Dublin, imposing martial law. Within Trinity, the gates were gradually reopened, and lectures resumed soon afterwards. The campus returned, bit by bit, to its familiar rhythms of tutorials, societies, and exams. Nonetheless, the memory of barricades in the quads and armed sentries under the colonnades persisted for years among staff, students, and alumni.
In the broader sweep of Irish history, the Easter Rising set in motion a chain of events leading to the War of Independence (1919–1921) and eventually the establishment of the Irish Free State in 1922. Though Trinity maintained its ties to the Crown for some time, the later decades of the 20th century would see the college evolve into a diverse, pluralistic institution. For all that change, the tense week of the Rising in 1916 remains a significant chapter in TCD’s story, an extraordinary reminder of how national upheaval can burst through the gates of even the most venerable academic institution.
Legacy of a Turbulent Week
Today, visitors to Trinity College can tour the tranquil campus, admiring the Georgian architecture and the lush lawns where students socialise between lectures. It is difficult to imagine that, over a century ago, these same quads were patrolled by soldiers and lined with makeshift barricades. Yet the Easter Rising looms large in Irish collective memory, and Trinity’s experience stands as a prime example of how suddenly everyday life can be upended when political conflict spills onto the streets.
The legacy of those fraught days is often overshadowed by more prominent episodes of the Rising. However, the transformation of Trinity into a stronghold highlights how swiftly and dramatically the political climate in Dublin shifted in 1916. Though no full-scale attack on the college materialised, the simple fact that Crown forces felt it necessary to secure TCD, and that staff and students played a role in that defence, remains a testament to the gravity of the situation facing the city.
For anyone curious about extraordinary events in the college’s history—particularly those that predate the 2000s—this episode reveals a Trinity College caught up in the chaos of rebellion, martial law, and the birth pangs of a new nation. It was, and remains, one of the most remarkable periods in the long annals of Ireland’s oldest university, exemplifying how even the most traditional institutions can become focal points during moments of great historical upheaval.
