The Luxembourg School at Aldborough House

Gregor von Feinaigle. Line engraving by J. H. Lips after D. Lavater

Gregor von Feinaigle. Line engraving by J. H. Lips after D. Lavater (Wellcome Images)

In 1813, Professor Gregory (von) Feinaigle arrived in Dublin. His life to this point had been quite varied. Formerly a Cisterican monk, he had been expelled from the Monastery of Salem during the Napoleonic Wars, and after a brief dalliance as an industrialist, he moved into the education. He established himself in Karlsruhe, then moved to Paris, continued touring France, and arrived in London in 1811. After tours to Glasgow and Edinburgh, Feinaigle arrived in Dublin in January 1813. He would never leave.

Feinagle’s speciality was mnemonics, and their use as a tool in learning. Anxious to cultivate confidence among the nobility and gentry of Dublin, he quickly advertised his talks within a few weeks of his arrival. Proceeds from his talk held in the Rotunda rooms on his New System of Mnemonics  were given to aid the Fund for establishing the Dublin Female Penitentiary and the Richmond National Institute of the Industrious Blind. Feinaigle clearly had a sense of how to get his name out among the classes willing to pay for his services; the latter talk was attended by the Duchess of Richmond. Announcements carrying details of the talk included information for those interested that a course on:

the Principles of Mnemonics and Methodics, will likewise begin next Wednesday the 15th of January new private lectures on the Latin language principally intended for children of former subscribers of such pupils as will be presented by them. These young pupils will at the same time be instructed in other important objects of learning, such as History, Geography, Arithmetic, etc., and may receive further instruction in other languages. The price of these private lectures is one guinea a week. The subscription to be made at No. 12 Upper Sackville Street.

"The New Art of Memory" (1813)

“The New Art of Memory” (1813)

Something of a craze for Feinaiglianism quickly emerged. The self-styled Professor was encouraged to establish a school, and by August 1813, Saunder’s News-Letter carried an advertisement announcing that two contiguous and eligible houses at Clonliffe had been acquired to house a seminary for the education of youth after the system of Professor von Feinaigle. Information and enquiries about the school could be obtained from Bindon Blood of Charlemont St, Richard Williams of Drumcondra Castle (both trustees), Thomas Williams of Bank of Ireland, or Dr Harty of Gloucester St.

Engraving of Aldborough House, Dublin Penny Journal,  February 1836.

Engraving of Aldborough House, Dublin Penny Journal, February 1836.

Such were the numbers interested in applying, the Clonliffe houses were deemed too small, and Feinaigle himself advanced £4,800 to purchase Aldborough House, then unoccupied. The Clonliffe houses were retained for the female school. Forty subscribers paid £100, and £15,000 was expended on fitting the school up. This included the erection of a large hall and chapel as wings to the original building.

The school had three assistant lecturers (Rev William Lawler, Rev Piers Gamble, Mr Flynn), and named lecturers in Drawing (Mr Sandford), Natural and Experimental Philosophy (Rev Lawler), Chemistry (Michael Donovan), a Physician (William Harty), a Surgeon (Arr. Collis), and an apothecary (John Donovan). Prof Walter Wade of the Dublin Society was a  guest lecturer delivering courses in botany and agriculture.

After moving into Aldborough, the name of the building was changed to The Luxembourg, and indeed is marked as such on one map of Dublin (1821). It became one of the most successful Protestant schools in Ireland, providing students for Trinity College Dublin. Pupils called it “The Lux”, and among several pupils recalled in an 1874 article in the Irish Builder were James Caulfield, future Earl of Charlemont, Abel La Touche, Sir William and Sir Croker Barrington, as well as boys from Kilkenny, Donegal, Cork, and France.

The school had become a success quickly and was now a significant provider of expensive education for children of wealthy parents. Feinaigle decided to marry, and chose for his bride a widow, a former matron at the Rotunda. Sadly his success came to an abrupt end with his sudden death in 1820. He left a significant legacy at the time. Enrolment in the school was about 130, and schools after his system were being established in other towns in Ireland. Feinaigle’s own son Charles Gregory graduated from The Lux and entered Trinity College in 1834. However, Dublin was changing; this part of the city was deteriorating quickly, and a new master (Feinaigle’s step son) intent on pursuing an overtly religious curriculum put many parents off. The school closed and Aldborough House was abandoned once more until it was taken over by Dublin Castle to house soldiers during Daniel O’Connell’s monster meeting at Clontarf.

The Feinaiglian system never gained the acceptance that the Lancaster “monitorial” system did; the latter becoming standard in classrooms around the country. But Feinaigle is immortalised in Don Juan by Byron (1818), which includes in its first canto:

Her memory was a mine; she knew by heart

All Calderon and greater part of Lopé,

So that if any actor missed his part

She could have served him from the prompter’s copy;

For her Feinaigle’s were an useless art,

And he himself obliged to shut up shop

He could never make a memory as fine as

That which adorn’d the brain of Donna Inez.

The current status of Aldborough House is well documented on the Irish Aesthete’s website. You can receive email updates when a new post is published by subscribing below.

Notes

Michael Quane (1964) The Feinaiglian Institution, Dublin, Dublin Historical Record, 19(2), 30-44.

Advertisements

Charlotte Street now gone

Modern Ordnance Survey of Ireland Map of the Camden Complex, showing the approximate route of Charlotte (red) and Old Camden (blue) Streets

Modern Ordnance Survey of Ireland Map of the Camden Complex, showing the approximate route of Charlotte (red) and Old Camden (blue) Streets. The Bleeding Horse was pinched between the two streets at the northern (top) end

The strange convergence of roads at the junction of Charlemont, South Richmond,  Harrington and Camden streets with the east-west thoroughfare of Harcourt Road is a recent addition to the city. Especially odd is the abrupt termination of Charlemont—one of the main routes in to the city and the arc-like segment of road that runs alongside South Richmond street, which was formerly a half of Old Camden Street and is now seemingly nameless.

It wasn’t always so. Describing the approach routes possible for the Battle of Rathmines in 1649, the road south from Camden Street along Charlemont Street was the marked as the “road to Milltown” (Brunskill, 1939). This road followed what became known in 1780 as Charlotte Street, which connected directly Camden and Charlemont Streets and can be seen clearly on maps drawn since (Behan, 1994).

1798 Map of Dublin

1798 Map of Dublin (Click on image for view of surrounding area)

The street’s name was in honour of Queen Charlotte (1744 – 1818), wife of George III (the “mad” one), and mother of his fifteen children. At this time, the area was on the edge of the city, but as can be seen from the 1798 map, there was significant development along the route. 

I was first aware of the non-existence of Charlotte Street on the National Library’s Flickr Stream, who posted the photo “Demolition” by Elinor Wiltshire, which shows the street in 1964. The shop visible in the photograph is of the Kavanagh Sisters Hair Stylists. The Kavanagh family are also present in 1911 Census, with James, a hair-dresser, who looks like he was father of the sisters of 1964, named Ellen and Martha. They would have been 56 and 54 at the time this photo was taken. Next door in 1911 was Willie Kavanagh, who in 1901 was a “Hair-Dresser Improver”.

Looking from Charlemont Street through the intersection of Harcourt Road, onto Charlotte Street, 1910

Looking from Charlemont Street through the intersection of Harcourt Road, onto Charlotte Street, 1910

Just as we risk sinking into the mundane, out pops a really interesting nugget: Charlotte Street was home to the offices of Jacob Neville, land surveyor, who operated there between 1773-1782 and succeeded by Arthur Richard Neville in 1789 (Gibney, 1958). Now for non-Wicklow people, this mightn’t seem too fascinating, but Neville was the first man to do a full survey of Wicklow, publishing his famous map in 1760. His nephew Arthur published an updated version of the map sometime after 1798. Jacob’s contemporaries included Bernard Scalé, who we met at Ely Place and Thomas Mathews who we met at Golden Lane

Charlotte Street, 1974, from Dublin City Library Collection (links to catalogue)

Charlotte Street, 1972, from Dublin City Library Collection (links to catalogue)

Despite the association with Neville, Charlotte Street never amounted to much more than housing small businesses. By the mid-twentieth century, as is evident from the National Library’s Wiltshire photograph, the street had run into terminal decline. A photo taken from a similar perspective in the 1970s from the Dublin City Library Collection shows that not much had improved, and by the 1980s, plans were afoot to develop an office complex. The road was closed by ministerial order on 28th July, 1992, and Charlotte Street officially no longer existed (Behan, 1994). A nod to the history of the place was the naming of a new road around the office complex “Charlotte Way”. The demolition attracted media attention as it involved demolishing Stein’s Opticians, as recounted in this “Come Here to Me” blog post (and update).

Despite officially not existing, a sign for Charlotte Street still exists. Approaching from Charlemont St, there is a small recess in the building, where someone with sympathies to the road that once was has placed a sign up marking the old route.

Plaque at junction of Camden Street and formerly Charlotte Street

Plaque at junction of Camden Street and formerly Charlotte Street

And a plaque? Well the closest we can get to a plaque on a street that doesn’t exist is just in time for the centenary of the Lockout. At the point where Charlotte Street met Camden Street, a plaque marks the building that was between 1912 and 1916 the headquarters of the International Tailors, Pressers and Machinists Union, established by Jewish Workers (having previously housed a synagogue).

Sign for Charlotte Street

Sign for Charlotte Street, an officially non-existant street that goes nowhere

Notes

  • A. P. Behan, 1994, Up Harcourt Street from the Green, Dublin Historical Record, 47(1), 24 – 45.
  • Frank Gibney 1958, A Civic Achievement, Dublin 1760-1800, Dublin Historical Record, 15(1), 1 – 10.