Spawell and Templeogue

Spawell.

Below the paper-mills is Spawell, an old-fashioned house of three stories, surrounded by a few trees, and close to the bank of the Dodder. The old road from Crumlin and Dublin bounded one side, and crossed the river by a ford at this place, before the building of Templeogue Bridge.

A little to the east of the house, in the centre of a semicircular hollow, was situated the once celebrated chalybeate spring, or Spa, which gave the name to the place. The slope of the bank behind was planted with large elms, all now removed. Near the well there was a great hawthorn, surrounded by a stone seat, the vestiges of which are still to be seen. The well is now covered over, and a sewer leads the water from it to the river, in which it may still be tasted. The entrance to the place was at the corner, where the road turns down to the river, and there was a plantation along the left side of the avenue, where the bed of the river is now.

In 1846, the Government Drainage Commissioners straightened the course of the river, from the weir at Fir-House downwards. The river ran formerly under the old road, by Cherryfield, through ground long since reclaimed. A hundred years ago the rank, beauty, and fashion of Dublin assembled at this now neglected spot, for the purpose of drinking the waters, and the following particulars relating to it are interesting.

In *The Dublin Gazette *of 22nd April, 1732, appears this advertisement:- “Templeogue Spaw Well. - Patrick Daniel, at the Domvile Arms and Three Tons, at Templeogue, continues to hold the same, and hopes to give satisfaction to all persons who maketh use of the said water, there being a large room for the accommodation of gentlemen and ladies, as also good entertainment and attendance. A band of city music will give their attendance as many days in the week as the company and the Master of the Ceremonies shall direct, who are to be chosen by the majority of the gentlemen. The Well will be opened on Monday next, being the 24th of this inst., April, 1732, and to continue until the 1st day of September following if required. Those that have occasion for the said water are desired to send their names and places of abode the morning before, to Mr. John O’Neal, at the O’Neal’s Arms, in New Street; Mr. Michael Rainsford’s, opposite the Horse Guards, in Dame Street; and at Mr. Burnet’s, saddler, in Christchurch Yard. N. B. - The waters may be had fresh every morning, at Mr. John Brown’s, tobacconist, in Crane Lane.” The Domvile Arms is now a farmer’s house, the interior being altered to suit its changed circumstances.

There was a paper of eight pages published weekly about that time, called *The Templeogue Intelligencer, *which gave an account of the proceedings at the Spa. The paper is very scarce, and a complete set of it is not to be had. A few numbers are among *The Haliday Pamphlets, *now preserved in the Library of the Royal Irish Academy. The following is a copy of the first number

“The Templeogue Intelligencer,

“No. 1.

E coelo descendit [there are two Greek (?) words I can’t read. KF] - Juvenal.

Dublin, 1728-Printed by S. Powel, in Crane Lane, near Essex Street.

I have been led into this way of thinking by a merry accident which happened yesterday at Templeogue. I had heard the world talk variously of the humours of that place - some commended the waters, and multitudes were living witnesses of their good effects; but many others as violently decried them, insinuating, at the same time, that those mixed companies were not altogether so good for young people This contrariety of opinion led a mind, naturally so curious and inquisitive as mine, into an inquiry which party was in the right and which in the wrong. There is nothing, perhaps, in this life of greater importance to the well-being of a State or to the health and welfare of particulars, than the discovery of truth in matters thus controverted. I, therefore, set myself seriously about it in this case, believing that the prosperity or misfortune of our metropolis did, in a great measure, depend on the success of my inquiry. I went there early in the season, and offered myself as a subscriber. The stewards seemed to be surprised at a thing so new; but, in an agreeable manner disguising their uneasiness, they accepted of my subscription. Now, you must know, that I am a year and nine months past my grand climatrick, or in plain English, sixty-four years and nine months; my visage is long and swarthy, having a protuberance on the left side of my face, and a large wart on my nose, not unlike a wen; my left shoulder rises about four inches and a quarter higher than my right, which obliges me to carry my head, like the inhabitants of the flying island, on the other shoulder. As for my legs, they are not the straightest in the world, for the shin-bones rise out, and form each of them a kind of semicircle; but in everything else they tell me I am as agreeable an old gentleman as you might see in a thousand. From my youth I have been an early riser, and found it highly contributing to my health; so that the early hours of which others complain is no hardship to me; and, what is pretty particular, I have not once in the whole season failed to be the first at the wells, and the last that left them, so that nothing could escape my observation. I always danced six country dances of a morning, and can without vanity tell you that the greatest belle has made the strongest interest to have me for a partner; but I always took care that my moderation in exercise should be no injury to their health, and I was the only person in the house who could assign my partner to another, and demand her again without offence; for there is an exact rule arid order observed in everything, which no one but I can transgress without being excluded the society, and in danger of falling a sacrifice to the rage of our sanguine society, who pique themselves upon supporting an exact form and decorum in all things. I have been long considering what could be the meaning of these balls and this merriment,at a place which originally was designed as a resort for valetudinary and infirm people; but I have at length learned from an ingenuous gentleman of my acquaintance, that it is the nature of all chalybeates to require a gay and sprightly humour, and a good deal of action, to give them a proper operation. I am very fond to believe that this very thing laid the foundation of the long-room, and established the weekly ball at Templeogue. The waters or this place are specific in many disorders; but they are more particularly adapted to the constitution of the fair and the young. Many a lady, after spending a good part of her fortune on a vain pursuit after health in the apothecary’s shop, has here at length, at a very trifling expense, found an agreeable vermilion for her lips, a snowy whiteness for her neck, and a rosy lustre for her cheeks, so that they are the most frequented of any within fifty miles of Dublin. The hour of meeting is generally about eight o’clock in the morning; but, the distance from town requiring an hour in the passage, the ladies must rise between six and seven to be there in time: and it is scarce to be imagined what good effect these early hours often have, not only on the health and constitution, but on the very life and conversation, of the fair sex. I have heard an old aunt of mine say that before tea and coffee and late hours came into fashion, you might have lived a whole year in this very city without hearing an ill word of your neighbour behind his back; there was little or no scandal, and the person who now and then attempted to spread a false report of his neighbour, was always accounted the most scandalous person himself. There was no sitting down to dinner by candlelight, nor any sitting at cards till morning. Everything was done in its own season, and the family was managed with an exact order and economy. But if you examine these times, this lying-abed season, good lack! how the world is altered from what it was. The very rising betimes is, therefore, a most valuable thing. The air and exercise in going to the waters, the innocent recreations of the place, and the returning again with a good stomach, are better for the health, and more conducive to long life, than all the learning of Galen or all the aphorisms of Hippocrates. In short, from an exact and careful consideration of the rules by which this little society is scrupulously governed, I think fit to proceed in my narration, to let the world know - such of them, I mean, as, from too great nicety, have rashly condemned the long-room - that it is impossible anything could be more judiciously contrived, to prevent intrigues or accidents of any sort in public assemblies, than the little scheme of government already established there, to which, for brevity, I refer. I have here met with many occurrences, diverting enough, which, as opportunity offers, shall be communicated to the public; but, in the meantime (begging pardon for this tedious digression, to which my years have greatly subjected me), as I was saying, I was thrown into this way of thinking by a merry accident which happened yesterday at Templeogue. You must know, sir, that amongst the celebrated dancers of that place, there is one more remarkable than the rest for a certain easy, natural, and unaffected manner of performing a jig. She has a thousand other charms, agreeable and taking; but in this she excels. Jigs, you know, have grown much into fashion of late, by the kind reception with which such performances have met at Court, and every good woman thinks her money thrown away, unless her daughter can dance a jig.

“This has drawn a heavy complaint from all the French dancing-masters in town, for Hydecar himself has not taken a greater offence against the Beggars’ Opera, than this set of gentlemen have taken against jigs. But there is no striving against a stream: the reigning humour must be complied with, even at the expense of many a fine French dance. Lucy, a young lady perfectly well made, easy in her air, and genteel in all her carriage, would have made perhaps the finest dancer of the age, had she not thought a jig her master-piece. I have often observed that when any person has arrived at a remarkable degree of reputation either for singing or dancing, or any other particular accomplishment, he has never failed of making a hundred, nay, perhaps a thousand, bad performers in the same art. We have all a natural fondness for ourselves, a prejudice in our own favour, that inclines us to think better of ourselves than we really deserve; and this often encourages to undertake things to which our strength and abilities are highly unequal, and for which nature never designed us (as my Lord Roscommon beautifully expresses it)-

Not remembering Milo’s end,

Wedged in the timber which he strove to rend.’

This was poor Lucy’s case; wherever she went she heard of Sally’s praise. Sally danced herself into the mouths, as well as into the hearts, of everybody, while Lucy pined in secret, that she should all this while remain uncelebrated for an accomplishment in which she, in her own opinion, excelled all the world. Urged by her evil genius, away she hies to Templeogue, resolved on victory or death, but so secure of conquest, that she made no secret of her design, nor of the occasion of her coming.

“There was a vast concourse of people. Sally blushed and trembled, and could scarce be persuaded to enter the lists, till, wearied with importunity, she at last submitted to the entreaties of the whole house, and began her own jig, which is properly so called, for none but she could dance it. The success of this bold challenge put me in mind of an expression in Horace which I thought so applicable on the occasion, that I gave it extempore in English to the company; and, as they seemed to like it, I will make bold to conclude this paper with it, in hopes that it may deter for the future all enterprising young ladies from entering into the lists with so dangerous a rival. ‘Sudet multum frustraque, laboret ausus idem.’

“‘In skilful jig, with painful art,

In vain poor Lucy plays her part;

The power of mimic art whilst Lucy shows,

And all to art, and nought to nature owes;

In vain she strives for glory in the plain,

Much may she *toil *but she must toil in vain.’”

The few other numbers of this quaint production are much in the same style. For the information of those who wish to peruse them, I may mention that there are two numbers in vol lxxxviii of The Haliday Pamphlets. [‘The first, second, and third numbers were in the possession of Dr. Madden. See *History of Irish Periodical Literature, *vol. i, p. 303. The numbers in *The Haliday Pamphlets *are the fourth and sixth. There is also one number amongst a collection of Irish pamphlets in Trinity College Library.] In vol. xcvi of that collection tile following ballad also appears:-

The Templeogue Ballad.

***Printed at the Cherry-tree, Rathfarnham, 1730, and dedicated to the

worthy Manager, Mr. Benson.*

To the tune of “To You Fair Ladies Now At Hand.”

I.

Ye Dublin ladies that attend

This place of mirth and fame,

My song or praise or discommend,

As you approve my theme;

‘Tis you that make the poet sing,

The subject’s but a trivial thing.

With a fal lal la, &c.

II.

Those damsels that were used of late

To rise when some had dined,

Now leave their toilet’s pleasing seat

For air that ‘a unconfined,

On Mondays * rise by six, oh strange,

What stubborn hearts can’t music change!

With a fal lal la, &c.

[* Monday, the day the company met at the Ball.]

III.

At breakfast, what a buzz is made,

What scandal runs about,

What him, and her, and they have said,

Or who’s that that went out?

Such pratings round each table fly,

For one word truth, there’s ten a lie.

With a fal lal la, &c.

IV.

The cockscombs that officious wait

With kettles in their hands,

And walk about from seat to seat

To see who ‘tis commands,

If smiles won’t pay for all their pain,

Another time the rest they’ll gain.

With a fal lal la, &c.

V.

The fiddlers now, with sprightly grace,

Invite them to the jig,

And pleasure sparkles in each face,

With their own praise they ‘re big.

A captive heart or two must fall

To Chloe’s share, or none at all.

With a fal lal la, &c.

VI.

The rival queens,* with equal charms,

Attract the standers’ eyes,

And strike the soul with wild alarm

Of love and deep surprise ;

Yet raise, by their prevailing art,

The chastest wish in the foulest heart.

With a fal lal la, &c.

[Miss Pennefeather and Miss Vesey, two ladies equally amiable.]

VII.

How pleasant ‘tis to view the fair,

How sweetly we are caught,

With gentle smiles they spread their snare,

We are theirs as soon as thought;

Who can withstand when Wemy’s face

Brightens the lustre of this place?

With a fal lal la, &c.

VIII.

The greatest crime ‘twould be to miss

A celebrated toast;

In future ages as in this

She’ll be Hibernia’s boast

Miss White for ever then must shine,

Whilst we revere all that’s divine.

With a fal lal la, &c.

IX.

Miss Sammy, whose exploits renowned

Have run where fame can go,

With bays full oft she has been crowned,

And praised from top to toe;

She loves a soldier’s honest name,

By the major * she acquired fame.

With a fal lal la, &c.

[* The major was a celebrated country dance.]

X.

Oh, could the muse her shape but span!

And show her brilliant eyes,

But that no human creature can

Behold them, but he dies

Blest as the immortal gods is he

The youth who fondly sits by thee.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XI.

When all prepare their legs to prance,

Each sex in rows apart,

They long to blend them in the dance,

And show their hopping art.

A tune they want, and can’t agree -

Moll bids them play “The Best in Three.”*

With a fal lal la, &c.

[* Another country dance]

XII.

To shift the scene and paint the men,

And eke the beaus also -

Oh, Muse, prepare thy flowing pen,

With justice let it grow,

To lash at vice, but honour praise;

Be that the subject of thy lays.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XIII.

From foreign climes the worst of vice

By Cunningham is brought,

To mention which infects advice,

So artfully ‘tis wrought.

His awkward grin and skull of lead

Shows Mother Dulness crowned his head.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XIV.

Among the throng, where follies dwelt,

Conspicuous Reilly glares;

His silly tongue does sense expel,

His face his manner shares.

No more the vacuum shall confound -

Search but his head, no vacuum found,

With a fal lal la, &c. 

XV.

Fain would my song more courtly grow

When F-s-ter I name.

With wit like his to overflow

My lines, and raise my fame.

Words are too feeble to rehearse

Sufficient praise for him in verse.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XVI.

The smoke of vice will soon infect

A youth, though well inclined.

Their glowing blood they should correct;

Their intellectuals mind.

I speak to Boyle, and Hopson, too,

You should your parts with warmth pursue.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XVII.

My brother Bard, whose honest heart

Still props our falling state,

And strives, with judgment and with art,

T’ avert impending fate:

Who speaks so much, so little gains,

Just honour claims for alt his pains.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XVIII.

To him, O Templeogue, is due

Thy praise and fame renowned,

Had he not been thy patron true,

Thy well had ne’er been found:

Thy waters might have silent sprung,

Nor yet by him or me he sung.

With a fal lal la, &c.

XIX.

His fluent speech runs smoothly out,

Each word is fraught with sense;

The powdered fops are piqued, no doubt;

With fops he must dispense.

Brown’s an exception to old rules

That men of sense can’t herd with fools.

With a fal lall la, &c.

XX.

Ye Dublin Citts, whose thoughtless souls

Incline ye to be blind,,

Whose knowledge ends in brimming bowls,

These, my last sayings, mind -

Where fops unnumbered pay their court,

Let not your pretty girls resort.

With a fal lal la, &c.

Few people now-a-days are aware that Templeogue was formerly a fashionable place. French, Swiss, and German spas are now all the fashion. Lisdoonvarna, where are springs of as evil-tasted water, and as potent in its effects, as any foreign spa, is only poorly attended. Lucan, once a celebrated spa, is now also forgotten. That in the Phoenix Park, at the end of the Zoological Gardens, had its day; and Grattan Spa, at Portobello, after a recent slight effervescence, has again disappeared.

Templeogue Spa was frequented for several years. Rutty, in his *History of the Mineral Waters of Ireland *(Dublin, 1757), says: “Between 1749 [In that year an advertisement appears in *The Dublin Journal *of April 25-29, announcing that the Spa will open on May 1st, and that fresh water from it will be supplied to any part of Dublin at twopence a bottle.] and 1751 it sank into entire neglect; and, indeed, this was not owing to mere whim (as has been the case of many others), but to a loss of its strength; for in the aforesaid years, it had very little taste, and galls had scarce any effect on it. It was limpid when fresh drawn, but grew white on an hour’s standing: it left something unctuous on the sides of the glasses; it was but of a weak, ferruginous taste, of which it lost much on being exposed three hours in an open glass; and tho’ it was formerly a custom to bring it for sale to Dublin, it could have been of little value, except taken early in the morning of the same day that it had been drawn; for I have observed some of it which had been bottled and corked in the morning, to have lost the ferruginous taste in the afternoon.”

[Templeogue was resorted to for sport as well as for health. In The *Dublin Journal *of April 24-28, 1744, the following announcement appears: “On Tuesday, the 1st day of May next, there is to be fought, at Temple Oge, a cock-match, between the County and City of Dublin, each side to shew 31 cocks; for two guineas a battle, and forty guineas the odd battle. To be fought in three days, wherein several gentlemen of the city and county are concerned. For the county, the immortal feeder, George Booth, of all Ireland, is employed, who has beaten all English, Irish, and particularly French, feeders that he ever met with. For the city, Henry Ellery is concerned, who was bred in London under the famous and judicious Mr. Thomas Hackford, dancing-master as well as cocker. Said Ellery’s courage is much supported, upon a presumption for his education, that he can convey a manner of hopping to his poultry, that said Booth had not an opportunity of knowing. Each day’s righting begins at 11 o’clock in the morning; and good eatables, wine, stables, &c., provided for gentlemen that are pleased to dine at said place.”]

At the opposite side of the river from Spawell is Cherryfield, formerly called Cherrytree, then a small house beside the road that went along the bank of the river to the ford at Templeogue, near where the bridge is now. There were about eight acres of waste land on the sides of the river here, all covered with furze and gravel, with a rabbit warren. The river spread over it when flooded. Since its bed was straightened and deepened, this land has been reclaimed. Mr. Fowler expended a considerable sum in building an addition to the house, and in levelling and clearing this ground. When Templeogue bridge was built, the road was changed to run about a quarter of a mile to the south of the house, instead of, as in the last century, running on the north.

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