DUBLINERS ARE used to complaining. But they may be surprised to hear that, 400 years ago, they were complaining about roughly the same things: foul weather, property problems and allegations of political corruption.
Archival material from 1608 also reveals Dublin's civic authorities had to carry out repairs to the main bridge over the Liffey - in a spooky parallel to similar repairs which began this week on O'Connell Bridge.
Dublin historian Dr Maighréad Ní Mhurchadha, who has researched the era in question for a new book, says construction difficulties and the weather were the main issues facing Dubliners in 1608, a year in which the Irish currency was worth three-quarters of the pound sterling.
While Dubliners of 1608 didn't have to battle heavy rain and flooding, they were faced with severe frosts and cold winters. In fact, the Liffey was so frozen on several occasions that people and animals were able to walk across it, she says.
The winter of 1607-1608 had been particularly cold, with Dublin City Assembly voting in April "to repair the defects of the piles of the Bridge, happened unto them by means of the late frost".
The planning tribunals would not be established for another 390 years. But, as Dr Ní Mhurchadha points out, there had been plenty of allegations of political skulduggery.
She cites one particular occasion, in which it was complained at a meeting of the Dublin Civic Assembly that many charters, books and rolls belonging to the city had come into the hands of certain citizens by some sinister means. These were being retained "to the great hurt" of the city. There was a suggestion the guilty parties were members of the assembly, she says.
Dr Ní Mhurchadha also speaks of large-scale smuggling operations. The focus wasn't drugs, however. Rather, the chief contraband items were religious books and Catholic relics brought in from London via Chester.
Dr Ní Mhurchadha - who gave a lecture on the subject on Thursday night at the Dublin City Library and Archive as part of Heritage Week - also says the people of Dublin had been remarkably close-knit.
Noting the population in the walled city was then little more than 5,000 due to a plague, she says: "Dublin strangers, and this would have included people from as far away as Glasnevin and Clontarf, would have been easily identified."
Her book, Early Modern Dubliners, explores the lives of ordinary Dubliners in the late 16th and early 17th centuries.