Davy Stephens
Davy Stephens
In Brief
In Aeolus an office door creaks open and "Davy
Stephens, minute in a large capecoat, a small felt hat
crowning his ringlets, passed out with a roll of papers under
his cape, a king's courier." A hallucinated version of this "ringletted"
figure reappears in Circe, hawking newspapers and
surrounded with "a bevy of barefoot newsboys"
such as were seen repeatedly running in and out of the
news offices in the earlier chapter. Stephens (early
1840s-1925) was a vendor of newspapers and periodicals at Kingstown Harbour, where
passenger-carrying mailboats
crossed the channel to Britain twice daily. Hailing travelers
with witty, uninhibited blather well suited for selling
papers, he made himself a well-known fixture of greater
Dublin.
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Vivien Igoe, who lists Stephens' birth date definitively as
1845, reports that he "started work aged six, selling copies
of Saunder's Newsletter to support his widowed mother.
For 60 years he operated from the steps of the railway station
at Kingstown (now DĂșn Laoghaire)." This location allowed him
quite literally to corner a major news market: nearly everyone
who traveled between Dublin and London took the mailboats,
connecting by train at either end. Cyril Pearl quotes
Stephens' claim to have sold papers to "monarchs, princes,
potentates, viceroys, all grades of the aristocracy, Lord
Chancellors, Prime Ministers, Commanders-in-Chief, Cardinals,
Archbishops . . . artists, authors, jockeys, prizefighters,
aeronauts, tight and slack rope-walkers, and dancers . . . and
'long' and 'short drop' hangmen" (Dublin in Bloomtime, 49).
The Emperor of Brazil, he notes, offered him the position of
Court Jester.
The Amazonian poobah's offer suggests that Stephens' energetic hobnobbing with the high and mighty involved more than a little condescension on their part, but he met them halfway, recouping whatever scraps of personal dignity they surrendered. In the best Dublin tradition of flamboyant self-promotion, Stephens cultivated an image of closeness to power, styling himself the Prince of the News Vendors, or the King of the Newsboys. Many people joined the game by addressing him as Sir Davy. Joyce's phrase "a king's courier" alludes to Stephens' amicable interactions with King Edward VII when he came to Ireland in 1903, reprising earlier conversations when Albert Edward had visited as Prince of Wales. The autobiography that he published in 1903 records that Queen Victoria gave him a sovereign on one of her visits; he "loyally" kept it "mounted in a gold clasp ready for inspection" and pinned it to his coat "on special occasions."
Many socially prominent persons besides Their Majesties seem
to have embraced Davy Stephens. Pearl observes that Lord
Northcliffe, who came to Ireland for the Gordon-Bennett Cup,
"invited Davy to accompany him in his car, and when someone
occupied Davy's stand during one of his regular attendances at
the English Derby, Michael Davitt raised the matter in the
House of Commons" (49-50). A prominent Irish MP, in other
words, intervened in Parliament to protect Stephens' de facto
monopoly on news vending in Kingstown. Pearl adds that "Davy's
activities were reported regularly in the Irish Society
and Social Review. A paragraph in the issue of 31st
October 1903 reads: 'Davy had a great shake hands from Mr John
Morley the other day. Davy congratulated him on the life of Gladstone, and presented
him with a copy of his own life, just published. Mr Morley
said he would read it carefully, and perhaps he might see a
review of it in one of the greatest of London's dailies'"
(50).
This autobiography, The Life and Times of Davy Stephens:
The Renowned Kingstown Newsman, took comical
self-aggrandizement to an admirably high pitch: "His exterior
is peculiar but prepossessing. Standing a little below the
usual height for the proverbial Irishman [Joyce calls him "minute"],
this point is quickly lost sight of in a deep well of wit, not
yet completely sounded, beaming forth in his eyes. No one can
say whether it is in the merry glance of his eye or in the
quick repartee that issues from his lips, never for a moment
sealed, that Davy's fortune lies. The corners of his mouth are
turned up in a perpetual smile which his clean shaven chin
tends to emphasise."
The Thom's records suggest that, near the end of his long life, Stephens forsook the rigors of his outdoor post for a more sedentary life. In 1911, when he would have been nearly 70 years old, he was living at 33 Upper George's Street in Kingstown and running a stationery business.