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Criminal incidents, accidents, whippings, beatings, jail escapes and hangings were all part of Dublin's 'brilliant parade' in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, including actors, clergymen, scientists, politicians and rogues and rascals of every hue. Hopkins describes the poverty, soup kitchens, food riots, street beggars and workhouses that were all a feature of Dublin life. He also introduces us to the weird, wonderful, and often downright strange customs and pastimes of Dubliners stretching back to the Middle Ages, such as the 'bearing of balls' annual parade by the city's bachelors and the ritual humiliation of would-be bridegrooms at the bullring.
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Thesavage storm on the ‘Night of the Big Wind’ on 6 January 1839 was one of the worst ever recorded in Ireland and it caused widespread damage. On that night, and for most of the next day, hurricane force winds created havoc throughout the country and in Dublin it was estimated that approximately one house out of every four suffered from some sort of structural damage, ranging from missing roof slates to complete demolition.
On the night of the disaster, several Dublin churches opened their doors to hordes of Dubliners who sought refuge from the storm. Many churches were damaged including St Patrick’s Cathedral, St Matthew’s at Irishtown and Phibsborough church. The Bethesda Chapel, attached to the Lock Penitentiary and Workhouse in Dorset Street, was burned to the ground. A fire at the chapel had been extinguished on the day preceding the hurricane but the high winds rekindled the fire and by the next morning, chapel, workhouse and six adjoining houses had been reduced to cinders.
Thousands of chimney-stacks throughout the city were demolished by the wind and many of the big houses on St Stephen’s Green and Merrion Square suffered structural damage. Many of the city’s roads were totally blocked by fallen trees.
Malachi Horan, the Tallaght story-teller, related a tale of how the hurricane destroyed a small silk- and cloth-weaving industry on Killinarden Hill. Malachi, who described the wind as ‘God’s wrath’, said: ‘Even the mountain-men near died of the fright that was on them. Like death, the wind come to some, for the others it passed by.’ The next morning at daybreak it became apparent that all eight cottages belonging to the weavers had been devastated and they left the area on that very day and never returned.
John O’Donovan, who was working for the ordnance survey in Wicklow at the time, was staying at a hostel in Glendalough. O’Donovan wrote that at the height of the storm, the hostel rocked ‘as if it were a ship’. During the night, the wooden shutters of his bedroom were blown in by the storm and he was forced to lie against them until the next morning to keep them closed.
The number of deaths caused by the storm has been impossible to calculate but it has been estimated that between 300 and 400 people lost their lives. At Skerries, nine fishing boats, each with a crew of nine or ten were reported lost. Six people were killed in a fire in Mary Street and in Glasnevin a policeman perished when a wall of the Botanic Gardens fell on him. At Guinness’ brewery nine dray horses were killed when a stable wall fell on them.
In the immediate aftermath of the storm, people sought reasons for the calamity that had been visited on them. Some religious folk were convinced that as the storm had taken place on the night of ‘Little Christmas’ or ‘Women’s Christmas’ it was a sure sign of the wrath of God and that 7 January would be the Day of Judgement. Others simply blamed the fairies for the calamity, while yet another section of the population blamed it on the Freemasons. Apparently, some Catholics were of the opinion that devil-worshipping Freemasons had summoned his satanic majesty from the nether regions and hadn’t been able to send him back again!
Of all the charitable schools ever founded in Dublin surely the ‘School for Young Sweeps’ must have been the most unusual. This Sunday school was run on the premises of Kellet’s School at Drumcondra which had been founded in 1811.
Every Sunday morning, about forty young chimney sweeps assembled at Kellet’s where they were given breakfast and kitted out with new shoes, shirts and caps. They were also provided with bars of soap and a few pennies to tide them over during the week.
The occupation of sweep’s helper was a dangerous trade to be involved in and the young boys involved were at the mercy of their masters. Warburton, Whitelaw and Walsh’sHistory of the City of Dublin,written in 1818, comments on the plight of the sweep’s boys: ‘no class of the community … has so much and so deservedly excited public commiseration as that of young sweeps, and we think the existence of such a trade is a reproach to the police of any state where it is permitted …’
Master sweeps would recruit very young boys, (some as young as seven) as apprentices and send them up thechimney flues to brush and scrape the soot off them. As can be imagined, the occupation of sweeps-boy was a very hazardous one. There were no health or safety regulations to protect these children and among the hazards they faced on a daily basis were the possibility of suffocation from the soot, getting stuck in the chimney, falling from the chimney stacks and even of getting badly burned. There was also a very high incidence of testicular cancer amongst the ranks of the sweep boys which was believed to have been caused by the accumulation of soot.
The school was established following a court case in which a master chimney sweep had been jailed for cruelty to his young apprentice. The master sweep was said to have whipped the boy repeatedly and burned him with coals. The child, who had to be carried into court wrapped in a blanket and covered with ointment, died shortly after the trial. The sweep was sentenced to be publicly whipped and a huge crowd gathered to witness the event.
It was this event that led to the formation of a society for the protection of young chimney sweeps in 1816. At the first meeting chaired by the lord mayor of Dublin tales were recounted of the ill-usage of the apprentices, including several cases of murder. It also emerged that many of the young sweeps were forced by their masters to engage in night-time burglaries. Once the children grew too big to get up the chimneys, they were, apart from the lucky few that went on to become masters themselves, abandoned by the sweep-masters and left to fend for themselves.
The school for sweeps was established with a view to providing those abandoned with a basic education inreading, writing and arithmetic. However, the school was closed after a short period after accusations by Catholic clergymen that the school was a front for the conversion of Catholic children to the Protestant faith.
An act proposing the use of machines to clean chimneys rather than using children was proposed in 1817 but it was never passed. In Dublin it was recommended that a chimney sweeping machine invented by a man called Robinson and endorsed by the Royal Dublin Society be used in order to do away with the necessity of using chimney sweeps altogether. The machine, which used adaptable brushes, was only suitable for square- or rectangular- shaped chimneys and couldn’t be used for circular or irregular ones. It was also suggested – quite unrealistically – that Dublin Corporation should force builders to only build chimneys that would be suitable for the machines.
The practice of using children to climb chimneys was finally ended after many years of campaigning in 1864, when the Act for the Regulation of Chimney Sweepers was passed.
Following Robert Emmet’s ill-fated rebellion in the summer of 1803 he managed to evade the clutches of the authorities, but was eventually captured on 25 August at Harold’s Cross. During his trial for treason at Green Street Court HouseEmmet made his famous speech from the dock, which included the often quoted lines: ‘Let them and me rest in obscurity and peace; and my tomb remain uninscribed and my memory in oblivion until other times and other men can do justice to my character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then let my epitaph be written.’
While today it can be argued that Ireland has indeed ‘taken her place among the nations of the earth’ in many aspects of life, it still hasn’t been possible to write Emmet’s epitaph because we don’t know where he is buried.
Emmet was hanged and beheaded outside St Catherine’s Church in Thomas Street on 20 September 1803. Following the execution Emmet’s remains were taken to Kilmainham Gaol where it is believed that the artist, James Petrie, made a death mask from his severed head.
Emmet’s remains were initially buried at Bully’s Acre in Kilmainham but were removed soon afterwards and taken to an as yet undiscovered location. Over the years many theories have been put forward as to what happened to Emmet’s body but none of these have proved to be conclusive. At least a dozen sites have been examined in searches conducted over the last two centuries, all to no avail.
Currently, the family vault of Dr William Trevor in St Paul’s Church in North King Street is being touted as the most likely repository for Emmet’s body. Trevor had been governor of Kilmainham Gaol while Emmet had been imprisoned there and it was thought that he was buried there to prevent the grave becoming a shrine and rallying point for Irish republicans.
In 1903 a descendant of Emmet’s, Dr Thomas Emmet, who examined a headless skeleton in the vault, claimed that it was that of a twenty-five-year-old man, and said that he was nearly certain it was that of his ancestor. However, tests carried out in 1966 concluded that the skeleton was that of a much older person. The theory now doing the rounds is that the 1903 skeleton was moved elsewhere following Thomas Emmet’s examination and substituted with other human remains.
St Mobhi’s graveyard in Glasnevin has also been suggested as Emmet’s last resting place. George Petrie, son of James Petrie who made Emmet’s death-mask, claimed in a letter that Emmet had been buried there at the dead of night.
There have been numerous other suggestions in relation to possible locations of Emmet’s grave, including St Michan’s in Church Street, St Peter’s in Aungier Street (now covered by the YWCA building) and even St Catherine’s Church where Emmet was executed.
Other theories suggest that Emmet’s remains now lie in a disused Protestant graveyard at Blennerville in County Kerry and it has also been claimed in the past that his body was buried in the grounds of John Philpot Curran’s house, The Priory in Rathfarnham.
Even spiritualists have been enlisted on occasion to help with the search. In 1978 a Californian medium claimed to have ‘divined’ the presence of Emmet’s skull in a vault beneath St Catherine’s whilst under the influence of hypnosis. The vault which belonged to the earl of Meath was opened and a skull was discovered but it was thoughtto have belonged to a member of the earl’s family. Another medium later claimed that he had visualised Emmet’s skull under a house in Ringsend.
The name of James Napper Tandy, United Irishman and colourful Dublin character, has largely been forgotten. Today most people are familiar with Tandy’s name courtesy of the song ‘Wearing of the Green’while his house is mentioned in the old Dublin ballad ‘The Spanish Lady’.
James Napper Tandy was born in the Cornmarket area of Dublin in 1740. His father John was an ironmonger and a serving member of the Holy Trinity Guild of Merchants. Very little is known about Tandy’s early life in the Cornmarket but in 1962, Dublin Corporation removed a plaque commemorating Tandy from 7 High Street before demolishing the building.
Tandy worked in the family business of ironmongery for a time but later went into business as a land agent and rent collector. In 1760 he was admitted as a freeman to the Merchants’ Guild and in October 1788 he was elected junior master of the guild.
He was also senior master of one of Dublin’s oldest guilds, the Guild of St Anne, which had connections with St Audoen’s Church beside Christchurch.
Tandy was elected to the City Assembly in 1777 as a representative of the Merchant’s Guild and he served thecity in this capacity for nearly eighteen years. He was active in many issues at that time including a campaign against the relocation of the Custom House from Wellington Quay to its present location. Tandy and the merchants of the city were against the proposed move on the basis that it would lead to greater expense and inconvenience to them.
Tandy himself led a riot in opposition to the Custom House in 1781 and the architect James Gandon, described what happened when Tandy ‘followed by a numerous rabble, with adzes, saws, shovels etc. came in a body on the grounds and levelled that portion of the fence which had been thrown up adjoining the North Wall and River Liffey’.
Tandy enlisted in the duke of Leinster’s regiment of the Dublin Volunteers in 1778 and he was given command of the artillery section. He was later given command of the Irish brigade of the Dublin Independent Volunteers. Later on, Tandy became secretary of the Dublin branch of the United Irishmen whose membership included Wolfe Tone, Thomas Russell and Oliver Bond.
The United Irishmen were proscribed in 1792. Tandy was forced to flee to America during the following year after falling foul of the police and he continued to work for the United Irishmen there. Tandy’s movements in America were eagerly followed by the newspapers back in Ireland. A report in theFreeman’s Journalin November 1793 claimed that he had been seen in Philadelphia: ‘The presence of this poor gentleman seems extremely ominous to civic communities.’ Two months later the same newspaper reported: ‘The last accounts from citizen Tandy place him in Boston. Heaven forfend that good city from plague, pestilence and sedition.’
Tandy came into contact with a French diplomat named Pierre Adet in America who described him as ‘an excellent republican, a man entirely devoted to France and hating England as much as he is attached to our cause’.
Tandy went to Paris in 1797 where he managed to persuade the French to take part in an invasion of Ireland. The French made him a general and in September 1798 he landed in a French brig theAnacreonat Inis Mhic a Duirn (Rutland Island) off the coast of Donegal.
On landing, Tandy raised an Irish flag and issued a proclamation that was optimistically dated ‘The first year of Irish Liberty’. On learning of General Humbert’s defeat Tandy withdrew and sailed for Norway. He eventually made his way to Hamburg where he was captured and extradited to face trial for treason in Ireland.
He was sentenced to death after his trial at Lifford in Donegal but was released following the intervention of Napoleon Bonaparte. He returned to France where he was awarded a full general’s pension and he died at Bordeaux on 24 August 1803.
Today the fame of James’ Street in Dublin is recognised worldwide on account of its association with Ireland’s best-known export for the last 240 years – Guinness. However, in terms of history, the street has much more to offer than tales of Uncle Arthur’s ‘black protestant porter’.
There were at least fifty small breweries in the district 200 years ago, not to mention the twenty-five distilleries. At that time there were seven other breweries in James’ Street besides Guinness’ along with a half dozen distilleries. The Poddle River was still largely above ground and it was considered to be ideal for the manufacture of beer. One hundred years later many of these breweries had gone to the wall and only three – including Guinness’ – were left in James’ Street. The other two surviving breweries, Manders & Powell and the Phoenix Brewery joined forces in 1890 but had gone bust by the time the First World War started.
A local legend concerning the Manders Brewery and Robert Emmet is recounted in a history of the area written by Martin Fitzpatrick in 1994 to celebrate the one-hundred -and-fiftieth anniversary of St James’ parish. Apparently many locals believed that the Manders Brewery ‘went into long and painful decline’ because some of the company’s barrels had been used as part of the scaffolding used in Emmet’s execution on Thomas Street in 1803.
The Phoenix Brewery was originally owned by a man called Madder and he subsequently sold it to Daniel O’Connell junior, a son of ‘The Liberator’. Guinness eventually took over the premises of the two breweries following their closure in 1914.
Another place of interest in James’ Street is the graveyard at the back of the Protestant church. The graveyard, which catered for all religions, was at one time one of the largest in the city and it appears to have been in use from as early as the thirteenth century. The earliest reference to a burial there was in 1495.
It has been speculated that an earlier church, dedicated to St James of Compostella, patron saint of lepers, was situated in or around this site. It’s not clear when this church was built but the first reference to it was in the mid-thirteenth century.
Close to the cemetery is an ornamental fountain believed to have been built on the site of the well in 1790. Many writers have spoken about a curious tradition of carrying a corpse three times around this fountain on their way to be interred at St James’ graveyard. This practice was carried on up until the 1940s and is believed to have evolved during the Reformation period to allow time for the recital of prayers for the dead. Catholic priests were banned from performing these ceremonies in Protestant graveyards at that time. The graveyard was officially closed during the 1950s to all but those with burial rights.
During medieval times, on 25 July, the feast day of St James was celebrated by a fair held just outside the graveyard. Although it didn’t rival the great fair at Donnybrook, St James’ Fair usually ran for about a week and attracted traders and merchants from all over Europe.
The fair was usually accompanied by excessive drinking and carousing that sometimes led to rioting and even death. The fair was eventually banned in the 1730s, but a scaled-down version of it continued to be held outside the graveyard for many years afterwards.
The copper-topped dome of the Four Courts on the north side of the Liffey is one of the most instantly recognisable images of Dublin City, but it is not widely known that for hundreds of years the courts were held on the south bank of the river.
The first Inn of Court was established outside the city walls on the site where Exchequer Street now stands during the reign of Edward I. Because the court was outside the walls of the city it was harder to defend and the Wicklow men attacked it and burnt it to the ground. Afterwards the four courts of the chancery, king’s bench, exchequer and common pleas were held for a period at Dublin Castle and at Carlow.
In 1606 the Inn of Court moved across the river to its present location for a short time but due to pressure from Dublin Corporation, which wanted to keep them within the confines of the old city, the courts moved back across the Liffey in 1608 to a new home at Christchurch. By the end of the seventeenth century the courts were in a very dilapidated condition and the architect William Robinson was commissioned to rebuild them. Despite Robinson’s efforts, by 1755 the Four Courts were in ruins again and a decision was taken to build a new structure across the Liffey.
In order to gain entry to the old Four Courts, visitors had literally to go through ‘Hell’. Christchurch was at one time surrounded by a warren of narrow lanes and alleyways. Oneof these passages to the west of the cathedral known as ‘Hell’ is said to have taken its name from an underground cellar known by the same name. A large wooden statue of the devil adorned the arched entrance to the alley. An unnamed traveller quoted in John Gilbert’sHistory of the City of Dublinsaid of the effigy: ‘ … over the arched entrance there was pointed out to me the very image of the Devil, carved in oak, and not unlike one of those hideous black figures that are still in Thomas Street, hung over tobacconists’ doors.’
The old courts continued in use up until 1796 and one of the strangest trials ever witnessed took place there in 1795. In April of that year the Reverend William Jackson was tried and convicted of planning a French invasion of Ireland. Rather than wait for the judge, Lord Clonmel (better know to Dubliners as copper-faced Jack), to pass the death sentence on him, Jackson took poison and died standing in the dock before Clonmel could pass judgement on him. His body was left in the dock overnight and an inquest held the following day revealed that he had taken ‘a large quantity of metallic poison’. It later emerged that he had mixed arsenic and aquafortis with his tea.
Jackson was buried in St Michan’s churchyard and Jonah Barrington in hisPersonal Sketchessays that despite having committed treason and suicide, Jackson had a ‘splendid funeral’ that was attended by several members of parliament.
Work on the present Four Courts didn’t commence until 1776 when Thomas Cooley began work on the Public Records Office. When Cooley died in 1784 James Gandon took over the project and the building was largely complete by 1802.
The name’s Bond, not James but Oliver Bond, another ‘forgotten man’ of Dublin’s history who is now chiefly remembered by the street named after him as well as Oliver Bond House, the Dublin Corporation flat complex built in the 1930s.
Originally from Derry, Bond had a prosperous woollen drapery business in Pill Lane in 1783 and two years later he had moved to a larger building at 13 Bridge Street. Bond joined the United Irishmen in 1791 along with his friend Simon Butler. He was soon fined £500 and served his first stint in Newgate Prison, having been found guilty of sedition.
The six-month prison term didn’t impose too much strain on Bond and Butler as they were allowed the run of the prison and they could consume as much food and drink as they could get in from the outside. This must have been a fairly substantial amount as they managed to run up a wine bill of £500 during the period of their incarceration.
On 12 March 1798, fifteen members of the Leinster Directory of the United Irishmen, including Bond, were arrested during a meeting at his house in Bridge Street. They had been betrayed by another United man Thomas Reynolds, who had been sworn into the society by Lord Edward Fitzgerald.
The men were charged with high treason and taken to Newgate Prison. Bond’s trial took place in July of 1798 and he was found guilty and sentenced to death.
The judge ordered that Bond be taken to the gallows and ‘hanged by the neck, but not until you are dead, for while you are yet living, your bowels are to be taken out and thrown in your face, and your head is to be cut off, and your head and limbs to be at the King’s disposal, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul’.
However, twenty minutes before the execution was due to take place, Bond received news from the sheriff that he was to be reprieved. On the morning of 6 September 1798, Bond was found dead in his cell at Newgate in very mysterious circumstances. The next morning, the official explanation for his death was that he had died from apoplexy but few, if any, believed that this was the real reason.
The evening before, Bond had been in perfect health and was seen playing hand-ball in the prison yard and it was generally believed at the time that he had been murdered by one of the jailers for a reason that has never been established.
Some reports make the claim that a turnkey called Gregg was responsible for Bond’s death, while the finger of suspicion was also pointed at another jailer called Simpson. A letter written by Bond’s neighbour James Davock recounted in R.R. Madden’sLives of the United Irishmenclaimed that Bond had been strangled by Simpson during a riot in the prison.
Yet another claim published in a newspaper many years after said that Bond had died after one of the warders had struck him on the back of the head with a heavy kettle. Bond was buried in St Michan’s in a grave belonging to his wife’s family.
If Oliver Bond is one of the forgotten men of Dublin’s history, then surely his wife Eleanor, a daughter of the Church Street iron founder, Henry Jackson, is the forgotten woman. She played an active role in all the activities of the United Irishmen and she kept the woollen business going while her husband was in prison.
Eleanor played an active role in the recruitment and swearing in of other women to the society. She was also concerned with the welfare of the political prisoners in Kilmainham and at Christmas in 1796 she sent the prisoners a pie that contained newspapers, correspondence and writing materials.
Following her husband’s death, Eleanor continued to run the family business until 1809 when she emigrated to Baltimore with her four children. She died there in 1843.
The standard work on the origins of our city street names was first printed over 100 years ago and is still the most authoritative reference book.Dublin Street Names Dated and Explainedby the Reverend C.T. McCready was first published by Hodges Figgis & Co in 1892. The first edition was limited to a print run of 500 copies, some of which were to be had for half-a-crown while the hardback version sold for three shillings each.
McCready, a Dubliner himself, was educated at Trinity College and ordained in 1866. He worked as curate in severalsouth inner city parishes, including St Audoen’s and St Ann’s, and he later became a minor canon at St Patrick’s Cathedral.
McCready’s book contains a wide range of interesting information on the origins of the names of the highways and byways, lanes and alleyways of Dublin. The book was organised under different headings such as: the bridges of Dublin, gates of Dublin, quays of Dublin, streets named after saints and the statues of Dublin. McCready also provides what he called a ‘rough classification’ of the sources of the names of Dublin’s streets, most of which fall under the categories of churches, kings and queens, lords lieutenant, lord mayors, noblemen and owners of property.
However, most of the interesting Dublin street names are those listed under the categories of occupation, corruptions and physical characteristics.
One name which could be described as occupational was Love Lane, which was changed in 1733 to Little Cuffe Street and in 1776 to French Street. McCready says that the change occurred ‘on account of previous bad repute’. The area had been one of the main red-light districts in the city.
Another occupational name that speaks for itself was Washerwoman’s Lane in St Catherine’s parish. Interestingly, six out of the twelve names listed in this section were mentioned as far back as the twelfth century, the earliest being Sutor Street or the Street of the Shoemakers, first mentioned in 1190. The other five are Cook Street, Potter’s Street, Saddler’s Street, Skinner’s Row and the Street of the Taverners (Winetavern Street).
Several Dublin streets got their names from their physical characteristics; Dirty Lane, now Bridgefoot Street, obviouslydidn’t get its name because you could eat your dinner off the ground there. The names of Hill Street and High Street need no further explanation. Hind Street (formerly known as the street of the shoemakers) was another name for Behind Street, so called because it was behind Skinner’s Row.
One very curious name mentioned in the book that we all take for granted today is Dolphin’s Barn. McCready gives no information on the origin of this name but other sources say that it was once known as Dunphy’s Barn. He also mentions a place called Dolphin’s Lane (now Golden Lane) and he speculates that the name could have arisen from a tavern there with a sign of the Dolphin hung outside.
McCready also lists several taverns that have given their names to some laneways and yards in the city. Blue Boar Alley at the southern end of Werburgh Street was one of these. Boot Lane, now a part of Arran Street, took its name from a place called the Boot Inn, while an establishment called the Blue Hand in Pill Lane gave its name to a lane, a yard and a court.
Just to the north of Dalkey Island in Dublin Bay, there are three tiny rocky outcrops called Lamb Island, Clare Rock and Maiden Rock. Close by is another group of rocks known as the Muglins. In 1766, the bodies of two pirates were hung in chains there as a warning to other would-be transgressors of the law.
In November 1765, a Scottish seaman Captain George Glas, in partnership with a Captain Cochrane, were on their way from the Canary Islands to London aboardThe Earl of Sandwich.The ship was laden with a cargo of silk, gold dust, jewels and a large quantity of Spanish dollars. In mid-journey, four of the crew, George Gidley, Andreas Zekerman, Richard St Quintin and Peter McKinlea, an Irishman, took over the ship. Captain Cochrane was beaten to death with an iron bar while Captain Glas was stabbed to death and thrown overboard. Glas’ wife and daughter also perished when they were thrown over the side by McKinlea. The four then set sail for Ireland and as they approached the coast near New Ross they scuttled the ship, killing the last remaining crew in the process, and made off in a longboat stuffed with as much booty as it would hold.
They landed near Duncannon Fort on 3 December 1765 and buried most of their loot on the beach in a small bay which, since the incident, has been known as Dollar Bay. Stuffing their pockets with as many Spanish dollars as they could carry, the men set off for the village of Fishertown near New Ross. The four spent a few hours there and managed to get so drunk that they were robbed of $1,200.
The next day they travelled to New Ross where they laundered some of their cash and bought pistols and horses. However, they spent so much money in New Ross that they managed to attract the attention of the authorities who suspected the four of piracy. Suspicion deepened further when the wreck ofThe Earl of Sandwichwas blown ashore soon afterwards.
Meanwhile, the four pirates decided that it would be prudent to get out of New Ross so they travelled to Dublin, where they took rooms at the Black Bull Tavern in Thomas Street.
The sheriff of Ross sent an order to the mayor of Dublin to arrest the men and St Quintin and Zekerman were captured and brought to Newgate Gaol. Gidley and McKinlea were arrested later in a coach bound for Cork. When questioned, the four admitted their guilt and revealed the whereabouts of the buried treasure to the authorities.
The four pirates were tried for robbery and murder on 1 March 1766. They were found guilty of the crimes and all four were sentenced to death. Two days later they were taken by military escort to St Stephen’s Green where they were hanged on the gallows. The bodies were taken back to Newgate Prison and from there they were taken in the black cart (an early version of the meat wagon) to be hung in chains at the Great South Wall below Ringsend. Two of the bodies were put on display at Mackarell’s Wharf and the other two were hung up at the Pigeon House itself.
Initially, the bodies of the pirates provided a macabre sideshow for strolling Dubliners but after a few week’s interaction with the Ringsend seagulls the attraction began to fade somewhat. Walkers began to complain about the offensive sight and smell of the corpses and on 1 April the newspapers announced that the bodies of McKinlea and Gidley were to be removed to the Muglins near Dalkey Island. A gallows was erected on the Muglins and the two bodies were hung up in a new set of irons ‘said to be the completest ever made in the kingdom’.
The name of Dame Street which stretches from Cork Hill to College Green has its origins in the eastern gate of the old city walls of Dublin.
In medieval times, even before the Anglo-Norman invasion of Ireland, the eastern gate of the walled city of Dublin was known as ‘La porte de Sainte Marie del dam’ and had a statue of the Virgin Mary placed above it. This gate, also known as Dam’s or Dame’s Gate, and the thoroughfare leading to it, were extremely narrow and as the prosperity of the town grew, it became necessary to widen the thoroughfare and the gate by knocking down a portion of the city wall in 1698. Earlier attempts had been made to remove the gate but some residents who had houses adjoining the wall had objected to the proposed demolition.
This gate was the site of a major confrontation between the occupying Normans and the Vikings, who under the leadership of Asculv Mac Thorkil made an attempt to regain the city in 1171. ‘John the Mad’ an ally of Mac Thorkil’s attacked the gate which was defended by the Norman Miles de Cogan. Giraldus Cambrensis, in hisExpugnatio Hibernica,which was written during the 1180s, described the attack on the gate: ‘They were warlike figures, clad in mail in every part of their body after the Danish manner. Some wore long coats of mail, others iron plates skilfully knitted together, and they had round, red shields protected by iron round the edge. These men, whose iron will matched their armour, drew up their ranks and made an attack on the eastern gate.’
The ‘riding of the franchises’ of the city always commenced by riding out through this gate and a description of the procession written in 1488 says: ‘They proceeded well horsed, armed and in good array, taking their way out of Dame’s-gate, turning on their left hand to the Strand …’
At the eastern end of Dame Street, the boundary with College Green (then Hoggen Green) was marked by Hogges Gate which later came to be known as the Blind-Gate. This was removed in the early 1660s as it was in imminent danger of collapse.
At that time the banks of the Liffey were not walled in and there was a small harbour in close proximity to the gate. In 1534, the archbishop of Dublin, John Allen, boarded a boat at this harbour in an attempt to escape the clutches of ‘Silken Thomas’ Fitzgerald. However his boat was blown back onto the shore at Clontarf and he was murdered at Artane Castle.
Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Dame Street was home to a thriving newspaper and book publishing trade. Not surprisingly Dame Street was also well supplied with taverns and ‘groggeries’ such as the Half Moon Ale House, the Robin Hood and the Still, which was famous for its whiskey. However, all of these establishments paled in comparison with Patrick Daly’s chocolate house which stood at 2 and 3 Dame Street. Daly’s was one of the best-known clubs in Ireland at the time and it was mainly frequented by members of the upper classes. It was particularly noted as a gambling joint and it was said that half the landed estates in Ireland had changed hands there during its time. The club was also one of the watering holes
