In the fields off James’ St

Grand Canal Place
at the second hour.
Live lights on oiled water
in the terminus harbor.

Thomas Kinsella, St Catherine’s Clock

Walking around between the Guinness Storehouse and St James’ Hospital, there are some aqueously named streets: Grand Canal Place, Basin View, Basin Lane Upper. Water, water, everywhere. But neither eyes nor satellite show any sight of a drop.

Rocque to the rescue, as always. Tucked away in the south-western corner of his 1756 plan of the city is “City Bason”. The Bason, or Basin was a reservoir supplying this area of the city-especially the ever growing number of breweries and distilleries-with water. It was also a place for local residents to escape the confines of the city’s streets.

Rocque's map of the city - the "city bason" is just on the southern edge of the extract shown.

Rocque’s map of the city – the “city bason” is just on the southern edge of the extract shown.

With the aid of your monocle, it can be seen that a tree-lined walkway is shown around the basin, and the area was popular as a promenade, so much so that it had already been included as a panel of interest in Brooking’s map of 1728. In addition, it was a venue for musical performances. A concert in aid of the Meath Hospital advertised for August 1756, the date of Rocque’s map, promised a performance of Ellen-a-Roon by Mr Pockrich, playing musical glasses:

Mr. Pockrich hath, (in consideration of so useful a Charity) condescended to exhibit a NEW and CURIOUS Musical Instrument, invented by him very lately, the Effects of which it is impossible to describe, as being entirely different from all either Wind or String Instruments …

It would appear on this particular occasion, that Mr Pockrich’s performance didn’t go well. A subsequent apology appeared from the man himself in the following week’s newspaper: the cause of disappointment was his adding a Glass too much to his instrument. 

Ordnance Survey of Ireland map of area south of James' St. (Map: OSi)

Ordnance Survey of Ireland map of area south of James’ St. (Map: OSi)

We digress. The City Basin, Frank Cullen tells us in his fantastic new book was built in 1724, and indeed by the date of the Ordnance Survey map over a century later, the tree lined promenade was still present. A guide to the city in 1835 reported that:

The City Bason is the pleasantest, most elegant and sequestered place of relaxation the citizens can boast of; the reservoir, which in part supplies the city with water, is mounded and terraced all round, and planted with quickset hedges, limes and elms, having beautiful green walks between, in a situation which commands a most satisfactory prospect of a vast extent of fine country to the south. The entrance is elegant, by a lofty iron gate, and the water that supplies it, is conveyed from the neighbouring mountains.

The basin is important for the next part of the story. Its location probably directed the choice of the end of the Grand Canal adjacent to it, completed in 1785. The Canal would serve to keep water flowing to the basin, and hence to the city. (It wasn’t until 1790 that the canal was extended along the South Circular Road to the Liffey.)

Thus the terminus in the quote from Kinsella above makes sense. Quite an extensive harbour and dry docks are visible in the Ordnance Survey map, and the whole complex meant that this became an important link between Dublin, especially the Liberties and surrounding area, and the rest of the country via the canal. It’s probably no coincidence that the street running east from the harbour, that which now runs along by the entrance of the Guinness Storehouse, is called Market St. Gloriously, a sketch of the area published in the Illustrated London News and reproduced by Cullen gives us a picture of the locality in 1846.

City Basin and Grand Canal Harbour, Illustrated London News, 1846, reproduced in Cullen (2015)

City Basin and Grand Canal Harbour, Illustrated London News, 1846, and reproduced in Cullen (2015). The South Dublin Union Workhouse is visible to the west.

At this time, the area east of the Basin and south of James’ St had not been assimilated into the Guinness empire and one can see (pass the monocle again dear) on both the map and the etching that the area is primarily residential. In this final part, we’ll consider two developments that emerged in the nineteenth century.

Rocque's 1757 map showing what became known as "Old James's Gate Chapel" on the corner of Watling St, erected 1749.

Rocque’s 1757 map showing what became known as “Old James’s Gate Chapel” (marked with a cross) on the corner of Watling St, erected 1749.

The first is Echlin St, dominated on the east by St James’ Church. This is the third incarnation of the church; a Chapel of St James was erected by Canon Matthew Kelly in what was known as Jennet’s Yard. This lasted until 1749, when Richard Fitzsimons PP built a church on the corner of Watling St. (Rocque kindly marks a building with a cross at this location.) In August 1852 the present St James’ Church was opened by Dr, later Cardinal Paul. A notice outside the church says that Daniel O’Connell laid the foundation stone. Echlin St links James St with Grand Canal Place. Previously named Echlin Lane, it sourced its title from Rev Henry Echlin, who was the vicar of St James until his death in 1752.

St James' Church from Grand Canal Place

St James’ Church from Grand Canal Place

Secondly, the large curved building wrapped around Grand Canal Place is not present on the maps or views of the 1840s. This building, which Cullen describes as warehouses and Casey describes as experimental maltings were built by Guinness in 1863; in either case a convenient location on the water’s edge for distribution nationwide.  Facing inwards towards the canal, which like the basin beside it is now filled in, it is the last remnant of the enormous water complex that supported this industrial quarter of the city. One can contemplate Kinsella’s Live lights on oiled water in the Harbour Bar pub just across the road.

At Grand Canal Place

At Grand Canal Place. The Harbour Bar is the white building to the right.

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Notes

  • There is a photo essay of this area on the Irish Waterways History website.
  • Brian Boydell (1991) Mr. Pockrich and the Musical Glasses, Dublin Historical Record, 44(2), 25-33.
  • Christine Casey (2005) The Buildings of Dublin, Yale University Press.
  • Frank Cullen (2015) Dublin 1847: City of the Ordnance Survey, RIA (Dublin).
  • Desmond F. Moore (1960) The Guinness Saga, Dublin Historical Record, 16(2), 50-57.
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The Kevin St Medley: 4. Church Lane

While it is now a grim cul de sac with nothing more than a plaque to offer, Church Lane must be one among the oldest streets in the city as it connects Kevin St to St Kevin’s Church. The church and graveyard, now cut off from the eponymous street, are currently only accessed by Camden Row. This is a pity.

Occupants of Church Lane South 1842

Occupants of Church Lane South 1842

Some caution is required when hunting down Church Lane in the archives. The city had a few Church Lanes, unsurprisingly. Take for example Cathedral Lane, which we met on a previous article in this Kevin St series; it was previously Church Lane. It seems the name Church Lane South was applied to our lane, and on that street in 1842, the occupants included John Burrowes and Patrick Murphy, bricklayers and John Magee, a shoemaker. Elizabeth Delap, a vintner who had been in No 3 in 1840, had disappeared in the two years since.

No through way at Church Lane

No through way at Church Lane

An Ordnance Survey map from about 1838 show that there were just buildings on one side of the street. The other side, now DIT Kevin St, was the site of a Fringe Factory. The street ends with St Kevin’s Church, of course, but also mentioned is “St. Sepulchre’s market and public weigh house.” The weigh-master was one of the officers of St Sepulchre’s, responsible for ensuring fair weights for goods (which in turn may have had taxes levied). In general, this term was a modern incarnation of the Office of the Keeper of the Great Beam and Great Balance… That’s a disappointing amendment to the business card.

St Kevin's Church (from O'Maitiú, 2010)

St Kevin’s Church 1969 (from Ó Maitiú, 2010)

The Dublin historian Séamus Ó Maitiú has reported in detail the history of St Kevin’s Church, the destination of Church Lane. The earliest mention is in 1179. Kevin is in good company with two other native saints nearby; St Patrick’s, which obviously became the cathedral, and St Bridget’s, remembered now by Bride St. The church’s history thus spanned over 700 years, until 2nd April 1889 when the last vestry was held (Ó Maitiú, 2010). After the church closed, it was replaced by St Kevin’s Church on South Circular Road (Bloomfield Avenue).

Sketch by WF Wakeman, 1887 (From Ó Maitiú, 2010)

Sketch by WF Wakeman, 1887 (From Ó Maitiú, 2010)

Among the many events over its long history is the baptism of the Arthur, future Duke of Wellington, son of the Earl and Countess of Mornington (See post: Music and Mornington House). In his recent talk at the Irish Georgian Society, Aidan O’Boyle described the Leeson residences at Stephen’s Green and mentioned the church on Camden Row as the family graveyard. There, according to Ó Maitiú, the family tomb has the inscription:

This tomb was erected by Mr Hugh Leeson of the city of Dublin Brewer for himself his posterity the 29th day of January 1685 and now beautified by his Son Joseph Leeson the 14th day of May 1741. Beneath are interred the following members of the family . . .

Included in this list is Elizabeth, Countess of Milltown, who was the third wife of Joseph Leeson of Russborough, Co. Wicklow, the first Earl of Milltown. She outlived her husband by an astonishing 55 years!

There’s an interpretative sign at the Camden Row entrance to the church and graveyard detailing other significant burials there. However I do think the grounds would benefit from having its original entrance reopened, at least during the daytime. It would rebalance the site in terms of connecting it to its original street and the opportunity to use the park as a thoroughfare might help deter the bands of daytime drinkers that make half the park unapproachable for most of the day. Parks with one entrance tend not to do well in Dublin.

A moste pleasante parke

A moste pleasante parke, but for the drinkers.

Notes

Séamas Ó Maitiú (2010) St. Kevin’s Church, Camden Row, Dublin Historical Record, 63(1), 39-53.

Cork St Fever Hospital

Readers may be interested in keeping an eye on the Royal College of Physicians’ blog which plans to feature some posts on the Cork St Fever Hospital archive preservation and cataloguing over the next year. The first post in the series includes this engraving of the hospital, clearly a substantial building.

Cork St Fever Hospital (Click to go to RCPI blog)

Cork St Fever Hospital (Click to go to RCPI blog)

Eugene Dudley’s recent article in Dublin Historical Record is a good read on the hospital and the social conditions at the time of opening. Citing John Rutty’s Natural History of County Dublin, he writes that there were no sewers, the city had 19 graveyards with people buried in shallow graves, and the water supplies contained dead animals. No one was safe from the threat of fever. The hospital chaplain, Rev James Whitelaw,* himself died of fever in 1813. He had conducted a survey of the city, reporting that

the labouring poor and beggars [were] crowded together ‘to a degree distressing to humanity in truly wretched habitations with often 10 to 16 persons of all ages and sexes in a room not of fifteen feet square’. (Dudley, 2009)

Having opened the Sick Poor Institution on Meath St. in 1794, it was decided that while this dispensary was successful, there was a further need for a hospital in the area. In 1801, 15 Trustees were named at the Royal Exchange for the new hospital. These included Samuel Bewley, William and Thomas Disney, Arthur Guinness Jr, and John David La Touche. Money was raised with relative ease. Reporting to an inquiry in the middle of the nineteenth century, a La Touche descendant stated:

Dublin was at that time in a very different position from that in which it is at present. There were a great number of wealthy manufacturers who resided in the Liberties, and employed a great number of people; they were very charitably disposed. (Dudley, 2009)

Site of Cork St Fever Hospital from Rocque's map 1756.

Site of Cork St Fever Hospital from Rocque’s map 1756.

The site for the hospital was selected to be “Widow Donnelly’s Orchard”. It is unnamed, but clear on Rocque’s map that an orchard existed on the site of the hospital. The site is bound by Love Lane (now Donore Avenue) to the west and Brickfield Lane to the east. Construction began in 1802 and was complete by 1808. The hospital opened after the ward ranges were complete in May 1804. It clearly had immediate success: in 1805, 1028 patients were admitted from the hospital’s catchment area of south of the Liffey to the South Circular Road. 874 of these were “discharged and cured”, 97 died, and 57 were still in care at the end of the year.

Fever Hospital Site ca 1840 (Ordnance Survey of Ireland)

Fever Hospital Site ca 1840 (Ordnance Survey of Ireland)

The fever hospital is visible from the early OSi map (ca 1840); and its foot print remains relatively unchanged today, save for an additional building in the south west of the complex. It is easy to see the relationship of the buildings in this map to the etching shown at the top of the article.

Notes

E. Dudley (2009) A Silent Witness – Cork Street Fever Hospital, Dublin Historical Record, 62(1), 103-126.

*An interesting article on Rev James Whitelaw and his Survey of the City is available on the Come Here to Me blog.