Billy in the Bowl

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CHAPTER VIII.**

Historic Associations of Oxmantown - One of the Roads to Tara - Its Mayday Festivals - Its Convents and Orphanages - “Fair Fanny Jennings” - Poor Clares in King Street - St. Brigid’s Orphanage - Miss Aylward and Grangegorman Prison - ” Billy in the Bowl.”

“Hi! for Bob and Joan,

Hi! for Stoneybatter.”

We have arrived at Stoneybatter, the name of a thoroughfare as we of to-day know it. Centuries ago it was called Bothar-na-gCloch. In Joyce’s Irish names of places we find the following interesting information as to the original name of the place:- “Long before the city had extended so far, and while Stoneybatter was nothing more than a country road, it was - as it still continues to be - the great thoroughfare to Dublin from the districts lying west and north-west of the city; and it was known by the name of Bothar-na-gCloch (Bohernaglogh), *i.e., *the road of the stones, which was changed to the modern equivalent, Stoneybatter or stony road.”

One of the five great roads leading from Tara, which were constructed in the second century-viz., that called Slighe Cualaun - passed though Dub]in by Ratoath, and on towards Bray, under the name of Bealach Duibhluin (the road or pass of the river). It is mentioned in the following quotation from the “Book of Rights ”:- “It is prohibited to him (the King of Erin) to go with a host on Monday over the Bealach Duibhluine.”

The old Ford of Hurdles, which in those early days formed the only foot passage across the Liffey, and which gave the name of Ath-Cliath to the city, crossed the river where Whitworth Bridge now stands leading from Church Street to Bridge Street, and the road from Tara to Wicklow must necessarily have crossed the Liffey at this point.

There can be no doubt that the present Stoneybatter formed a portion of this ancient road-a statement that is borne out by two independent circumstances. First, Stoneybatter lies straight on the line, and would, if continued, meet the Liffey exactly at Whitworth Bridge; secondly, the name Stoneybatter, or Bothar-na-gCloch, affords even stronger confirmation. The most important of the ancient Irish roads were generally paved with large blocks of stone, somewhat like the old Roman roads, a fact that is proved by the remains of those that can now be traced. It is exactly this kind of a road that would be called by the Irish-even at the present day-Bothar-na-gcloch; and the existence of this name on the very line leading to the ancient ford over the Liffey leaves scarcely any doubt that this was part of the ancient Slighe Cualaun. It must be regarded as a fact of great interest that the modern-looking name Stoneybatter-changed as it has been in the course of ages - descends to us with a history 1700 hundred years old written on its front.

Coming to more modern times-say, about 150 years ago-Stoneybatter was a somewhat primitive place, but at that date it had its corn and frieze market. Irish was continually spoken there, and its shopkeepers were obliged to understand it to carry on their trade.

The Rev. Mr. Burton, describing the place at that time, says:- ” The inhabitants would say, ‘We are going to town,’ or ask, ‘Are you going in to Dublin?’ thus considering it still (though so assimilated to the rest of the great metropolis) as in the same state in which it had been when Grangegorman and Glasnemenoge were only villages.”

Its inhabitants some time previous to the period alluded to presented a character which partook of that simplicity and homeliness that indicated a constant intercourse with their rustic neighbours of Meath, whilst they were at the same time prevented from a disregard for the customary habits of city life by their close proximity to the capital. The line of separation, however, became less distinct, and many, tired of the bustle of the city, retired to the Oxmantown side, and Cabragh Lane (the present Prussia Street), which became in these times a desirable and fashionable retreat.

In days gone by Stoneybatter, on Oxmantown Green, was the place where the May-day Festival was annually kept. Each of the outskirts of the city at that time had its own custom. Donnybrook had its Fair in August; Kilmainham, its St. John’s Day, 24th June, on which day vast numbers resorted to St. John’s Well, near Island Bridge; Stoneybatter its Maypole. This custom was eventually abolished, the cause being a riot in connection with a May fete.

This riot is reported in the papers of the day as follows:- “On the 1st May, 1773, there was a great riot at Stoneybatter in consequence of the setting up of a Maypole, which was attempted to be pulled down by some soldiers, on which a violent quarrel ensued, the populace of Stoneybatter attacking the soldiers, driving them into their barracks, and breaking the windows of same, whereupon the soldiers returned, some with their muskets, and fired upon their antagonists. Some of the inhabitants, to prevent further mischief, called on Sheriff Jones, who ordered the picket guard to attend him in this affray, and took seven soldiers, who went to the barracks; owing to the great courage and activity of Major Digby, who took three of the soldiers prisoners, and to Major Marsh, who was also very brave on this occasion, the riot was suppressed, but before it was over most of the houses in that place and neighbourhood had their windows smashed, and had it not been for these two worthy officers much more damage would have ensued. The inhabitants of Prussia Street, etc., held a meeting at the house of Mr. Oates in Stoneybatter on the 4th May, and thanked the Sheriff and officers for their action.”

Cabragh Lane, or, as we know it, Prussia Street, to which latter name it was changed in 1765, in honour of Frederick, King of Prussia, led to Cabragh, the ancient seat of the Segrave family, which place was afterwards inhabited by Lord Norbury, of notorious memory.

At the end of this street, nearest the city, stood Grangegorman Manor House, now the police barrack. There were several such manor houses on the Oxmantown side of Dublin. What is now 55 Bolton Street was one, and another stood in Drumcondra Lane, now Dorset Street, near the site of the Big Tree, now occupied by the new buildings erected by Mr. Thomas M’Auley.

After leaving Prussia Street, turning to our right, we see in front of us the Female Orphanage, one of the oldest of its kind now in Dublin. This institution was commenced in 1790 by Mrs. Edwin Tighe and Mrs. Este, in a limited way, but it met with such patronage that in two years after the founders had the satisfaction of seeing the buildings erected as we now see them.

The district in our time known as the North Circular Road, and modern villadom, was in the 18th century known as the Wood of Selcock. Turning into Grangegorman, we come to a large stone-fronted building, portion of the Richmond Lunatic Asylum since 1897. This structure was known in years gone by as Grangegorman Prison. We learn from M’Gregor’s picture of Dublin that the first stone of this building was laid by the Duke of Richmond in 1812, presenting a front of 700 feet to Grangegorman Lane, is in depth about 400, and covers an area of three acres; the estimated cost of its erection was about £40,000. In this prison the humane plans of Howard, the prisoner’s friend, for the treatment of prisoners were put in effect, it is said, with satisfactory results

During the Coercion times in 1881, after Kilmainham Prison had become a “congested district,” it was used for the detention of Suspects, and several prominent Land Leaguers were confined there for some months.

In the year 1860, in this prison, was detained as a prisoner for a period of six months the Foundress of St. Brigid’s Orphanage, Miss Aylward. The story of her “crime” can be briefly told. We learn from the life of the late Father Gowan, C.M., “that in or about the year 1852, among his penitents in Phibsboro’ was Miss Margaret Aylward, a Waterford lady, in whose zeal and character Father Gowan discovered an extraordinary power of doing good amongst the poor.”

Like St. Vincent with Madame Le Gras, he encouraged and directed this devoted lady, who with him founded and established St. Brigid’s Orphanage. It would require more space than that at my disposal to record the many difficulties and uphill work Miss Aylward had to encounter in the foundation of her wonderful organisation as we see it to-day.

Father Gowan, a few days before his death, graphically tells the story in the 40th annual report of St Brigid’s Orphanage. Miss Aylward, instead of erecting a large orphanage, “decided to rear and educate the orphan children in the country. This system of home-rearing is peculiarly suited to the orphans whom St. Brigid receives….”

The orphanage met with considerable difficulties, and its enemies determined to destroy it. The means taken to do so were with regard to the admission of a child named Mary Mathews, whom her father had com mitted to the care of Miss Aylward, to be reared in the Catholic religion. Miss Aylward was merely carrying out the intentions and will of the dying parent when she took upon herself the charge of the child. Anyone who is acquainted with the city of Dublin must know that great promises are frequently held out to poor widows to allow their children to be educated in a religion which they themselves condemn.

Mrs. Mathews, who became a Catholic at her marriage, now yielded to these seductions, and came to the orphanage to demand her child. In the meantime Mary Mathews had been taken from the nurse with whom Miss Aylward had placed her, without her knowledge, and when asked for the child she was able to declare that she never gave permission to anyone to take away the child, and that it was quite impossible for her to restore it.

The case was brought before the Judges, and after an investigation at the Crown Office, lasting over five days, Miss Aylward was brought before Judge Lefroy on 5th November, 1860. This worthy considered her answers to the Clerk of the Crown unsatisfactory, and sentenced her to six months’ imprisonment. Miss Aylward was very ill whilst in prison, and all worry possible was given her whilst there; but she battled against all, and on the 5th May, the festival of St. Pius V., at nine o’clock in the morning, left the prison, having completed her six months to the last hour, walked down to Eccles Street, and resumed her work of the Orphanage.

What, it may be asked, became of Mary Mathews? A Catholic gentleman who was interested in the case took her from the nurse without Miss Aylward’s knowledge, and brought her to the continent. She received her education in a Belgian convent, and afterwards became a professed member of the community.

Concluding, Father Gowan says -“I cannot close this notice without saying that the great Pius IX., when he heard of Miss Aylward’s imprisonment and the circumstances that led to it, pronounced her to be a Confessor of the Faith. The Primate of All Ireland, the late Dr. Dixon, being in Rome during her imprisonment, was commissioned by the Holy Father to wait on her in person and convey to her the Apostolic Benediction.

The Pope, reflecting a moment, said to the Primate, ‘We must send her a present,’ and, standing up, he opened his cabinet and took out a beautiful cameo, the head of St. Peter cut in precious stones and set in gold. ‘Ah,’ said he, ‘la poveretta. Give her this little present from me. ’

In January, 1908, there passed away to receive her everlasting reward one of the last of Miss Aylward’s companions, and one of the original members of the Sisterhood of the Holy Faith, the Rev. Mrs. Vickers, its Superior. General. This Order “has for its principal object one purpose, one work - that is, the instruction of youth. They are daughters of Ireland, working on Irish soil, teaching the children of Ireland.”

Lower down in Grangegorman Lane, on the opposite side to the prison, we come to the Home of the Sisters of Charity, now Stanhope Street Convent. This building has been altered to a modern edifice. It was formerly the grange or farm castle of Gorman the Dane, who held the lands under the Prior and Convent of the Holy Trinity, or Christ Church. The Agard family resided there in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and afterwards a Mrs. Stanley, whence the name Stanley Street. It was intended that this street should go right through to the Circular Road, but the idea was abandoned.

Before passing away from Grangegorman the story, as narrated by Burton, of “Billy in the Bowl” must not be omitted. This character used to ply his calling between the quiet streets of Stoneybatter and the Green Lanes of Grangegorman. He was nicknamed “Billy in the Bowl,” having been introduced into the world with only a head, body, and arms.

When he grew up he conveyed himself along in a large bowl fortified by iron, in which he was embedded. This man was the original “Billy in the Bowl,” for though many other personages who got along in various ways were honoured with the same sobriquet, yet this fellow was the king of them all.

He soon ingratiated himself with the simple servant maids from Meath in the respectable houses of Oxmantown. “It’s only Billy in the Bowl, ma’am.” “Oh, very well,” and Billy’s bowl was filled with beef, bread, etc. Nature had compensated for his curtailment by giving him fine dark eyes, an aquiline nose, and a well-formed mouth, with dark curling locks, and a body and arms of herculean power.

It was not to be wondered at, therefore, that hearts susceptible to pity should be touched by the peculiar circumstances of this *lusus naturae. *He certainly won the hearts of the plebeian fair north of the Liffey. Amongst them he was a universal favourite.

It had, nevertheless, transpired in sober circles that Billy in the Bowl had been suspected of very atrocious deeds. He was one of those curious beggars who frequented fairs and public places, where he picked up a good deal of money. The manner in which it is said he committed his depredations was by secreting himself in a ditch or inside a hedge on a lonely part of the road or unfrequented corner till a suitable person was passing on whom he might practice, and then, addressing them in a plaintive strain, begged of them to assist a poor, helpless man. They, struck by his peculiar circumstances, stepped aside to view the strange sight – half-man, half-bowl - and were soon undone in one way or another.

It is said he murdered his victims; otherwise so marked a man would soon have been detected had they escaped to denounce him. But his visits to Oxmantown and its environs at last ceased in consequence of his failure in attempted robbery of two ladies who were passing through what was then known as Richardson’s Lane, now a portion of the Royal Barracks (prison side), when at one of the stiles or passages between the fields they saw Billy in his bowl. The unsuspecting ladies were by no means displeased at the rencontre, and female curiosity, together with Billy’s coaxing ways, induced them to draw near to examine how he was disposed in his extraordinary vehicle, resolving in the humanity of their hearts to give him something.

They both expressed their admiration and pity, whilst Billy was profuse in his commendation of the “fine ladies” who had so “marcifully” come out of their way to see the “poor prisoner. One of them was applying her eye-glass to inspect more perfectly Billy’s premises, and the other was preparing her gratuity to drop into his bowl.

The fellow’s eyes were gloating in the meantime on their gold watches, bracelets, and other valuable trinkets which the ladies of that period were ornamented with, when, watching his opportunity, the base fellow attacked them, and, before they could think what was the matter, dragged them down. Their confusion, and the destruction of their habiliments, together with the rude efforts the villain was making to possess himself of their valuables, at first rendered them powerless; they, however, began at last to struggle and call for help; but, alas, none was then near.

The ruffian was endeavouring to shove his heavy bowl over one, till he had robbed the other lady, yet with all his strength, the defect of his lower man gave the unfortunate females an advantage. One seized his curling locks with her hand, whilst she contrived to thrust her thumb into one of Billy’s eyes. The fellow roared with pain, and relaxed his hold of the other lady, who sprang up, disordered as she was.

They now contrived to get out of his range, but in a most soiled and tattered condition-their hair dishevelled, their ornaments broken and scattered, their clothes ruined-whilst Billy himself almost deprived of the sight of one of his eyes, was left in his bowl to lament his wretched situation, and the certain punishment that awaited him.

The poor gentlewomen returned to their friends in Manor Street, and having told their story, no time was lost in pursuing the wretch who had committed such an assault. Billy, in the meantime, had contrived to screen himself behind a hedge in the next field, but was soon detected, most of the valuables were picked up on the ground where the attack had taken place, and some of the party procured a strong hand-barrow, on which Billy was conveyed in triumph to prison. (It was just about this time, 1786, that a police force was established in Dublin).

Billy was confined in the jail in Green Street, where as much of him as could be made use of was employed in hard labour for the remainder of his days. In consequence of this fellow’s ill-fame, and the audacious feats he had performed, he became an object of great curiosity, and was visited as one of the “lions of the day.”

Passing into King Street, we find ourselves in the midst of some of the most interesting of old Dublin’s historical associations, viz.:- The Duchess of Tyrconnell’s house, in King’s Street; the Benedictine Convent, in Church Row; St. Paul’s Church, King Street; Wesley Meeting House, in Gravel Walk; Bective House, in Smithfield.

In Blake Foster’s interesting volume, “The Irish Chieftains,” is found the following information with reference to the Duchess of Tyrconnell and North King Street:- “This lady was called ‘The Fair Fanny Jennings,’ and was remarkable for her great beauty. She first married Count Hamilton; on his death she married secondly, Richard Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnell, the favourite of James II. After that monarch arrived in Ireland, in 1689, he created him a Duke.

Lady Tyrconnell’s life was a series of vicissitudes, while her ambitious and haughty sister, the Duchess of Marlborough, ruled England. She retired from the world, and established on the site of her husband’s house in North King Street a convent for Poor Clares. In the first instance she went as a boarder into the Dominican Convent in Channel Row, now North Brunswick Street (with which institution we will deal later on).

She remained within the convent for two years, from 1723 to 1725. She afterwards founded on the site of her husband’s house in North King Street (which was said to have been the country seat of an Attorney-General for Ireland), a convent for Poor Clares.

I have made all inquiries possible to locate this place, and as a result I am of opinion that its location, that given in M’Gregor’s Picture of Dublin, is the correct one. It was situated at the north-west extremity of North King Street, opposite St. Paul’s Church.

Till a few years ago the site was Toner’s Oxmantown Foundry. I was informed by a relative of one of those engaged many, many years ago in digging the foundations for the foundry that they came across a vault in which were interred a number of nuns, which was immediately closed up. This additional evidence confirms the belief that at this place stood the nunnery founded by Lady Tyrconnell, and where she expired on the 29th February, 1730, in the 82nd year of her age.

On the 9th of March following she was interred in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. A mural slab on the wall of St. Andrew’s Scotch College in Paris commemorates her in a country where the exiled Irish found a home. According to the inscription, the Duchess of Tyrconnell was a munificent benefactress of this establishment, and bequeathed an endowment to the Fathers for the celebration of a daily Mass there for ever for the repose of her soul and those of her two husbands, Count Hamilton and the Duke of Tyrconnell.”

A short distance away stands the Blue Coat Boys’ Hospital. It was founded in the reign of Charles II., 1670. The old building was situated in Queen Street, at the south-east corner of Oxmantown Green. From the convenience of its apartments the Parliament of 1729 sat there, when an attempt was made to obtain supplies for 21 years, but was defeated by a majority of one. The old building becoming ruinous, the foundation of the present one was laid by Lord Harcourt in 1773. I would refer my readers for further information regarding this institution to Sir Frederick Falkiner’s delightful story of the “Foundation of the Hospital and Free School of King Charles: II., Oxinantown.”

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