Ringsend Port and Pidgeon's House

Chapter VI. The Port of Ringsend, with some notice of Pidgeon's House. The surroundings of Ringsend have been so completely changed...

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Chapter VI. The Port of Ringsend, with some notice of Pidgeon's House. The surroundings of Ringsend have been so completely changed...

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Chapter VI.

The Port of Ringsend, with some notice of Pidgeon’s House.

The surroundings of Ringsend have been so completely changed in the course of the improvement of the port of Dublin, that looking at the place as it exists today one can scarcely believe that its name is derived from the Irish word *rinn, *a point. But before the river Liffey and the river Dodder were confined within walls, Ringsend was a long narrow piece of land running out from the mainland, near where the Star of the Sea Church now lies, into what was, according to the state of the tide, either sea or sand, and its appearance on early maps gives ample confirmation to the correctness of the derivation.

The port of Dublin, as it is now known, is entirely of artificial construction, and owes its perfection to engineering skill. The present narrow channel, deep enough to admit ships of great draught, was formerly the shallow bed of a wide river, which covered acres of land now reclaimed and built over. As a royal letter of the reign of Edward the Third records, there was in mediaeval times, owing to want of water, no anchorage in the harbour of Dublin for ships coming from abroad “with wines, iron, salt, or other merchandise,” and all such vessels used to lie at the port of Dalkey, then considered the only safe refuge on the Dublin coast, where their cargoes were transferred to barges and boats, and thus conveyed to Dublin.

But with the increasing commerce of the Elizabethan period there began an effort to make the Liffey more navigable by marking out the channel at its mouth and deepening its bed. Through the enterprise of a private individual, Gerald Plunkett, who deserves grateful recollection as the guardian at that time of Ireland’s most unique literary treasure, the Book of Kells, buoys were first placed at the bar. Then the Corporation made provision for their maintenance there by requiring the payment of dues to Gerald Plunkett by such shipowners as were not freemen of the city, and at the same time ordered a cess to be levied “for the work of the river Liffey.” Owing to the difficulty which was found in keeping the buoys, or “the perch” which was substituted for them, in the right position, the Corporation decided that a more permanent beacon was desirable, and contemplated the erection on “the Ringsend” of a tower, which would indicate the right course to be taken by ships. For such a structure there was then a model in the Maiden Tower on the Boyne near Drogheda, and the Corporation designed the erection of a tower, “of such height and strength as shall be of a perpetual continuance,” like that early precursor of the modem lighthouse. [See “Calendar of Ancient Records of Dublin” edited by Sir John Gilbert vol. ii, pp. 44. 64, 168.]

Before the accession of James the First, Ringsend had completely superseded Dalkey as the port of Dublin, and during his reign building began on the point. The first house of importance erected on it appears to have been one built for the use of “an honest officer” of the custom service, whose presence at the place “where ships ride at anchor in the harbour of Dublin ” was found to be necessary to prevent infringement of the revenue laws. At the same time a fleet of herring boats, which had previously resorted to Clontarf, began to come to Ringsend. They were induced to do so on the representations of two Dublin merchants, who stated that owing to “the grievous exaction and uncivil opposition” of the owner of Clontarf they had determined to deal with Sir Thomas Fitzwilliam “touching the Ringsend,” and for “utility of the commonwealth” to draw thither the herring fishery, together with the fishermen and merchants, principally Englishmen or Scotchmen, connected with it. The Corporation gave every encouragement to the project; carmen and ships using the harbour were ordered to assist in providing stone and sand for the formation of a bank or furlong” at the landing-place, and the coopers, whom “the strangers and merchants” brought with them for the purpose of making barrels, were protected from interference by the trade guild. In consequence of the assurance of these merchants that their object was “the public good” a large sum was expended at Ringsend in buildings for the purposes of the fishery, but before two years had elapsed those concerned in it had reason to complain that these philanthropic gentlemen oppressed them more than any other private men. [See “Calendar of Ancient Records of Dublin,” edited by Sir John Gilbert, vol. iii., pp. 132, 146, 174.]

The difficulty and danger attending the approach of Dublin by sea at that time are vividly pictured by Gerard Boate, a contemporary writer. The Liffey, which he styles the Princess of Irish rivers, “not for her bigness, but because Dublin is seated upon her banks,” at the highest flood tide only admitted with difficulty ships of 50 or 60 tons, and when the tide was out the smallest boat could hardly approach Dublin from Ringsend, as “the water spreadeth itself too much and by reason thereof groweth very shallow.” Ships that drew more than five feet of water had, except at the time of a spring tide, to remain at Ringsend, where, unless they lay in the Pool of Clontarf or Poolbeg, they were left high and dry on the sand at low water, “so that one might go dry foot round about them.” There they were exposed during storms to much risk, not only in the case of winds that came “out of the sea,” but also in the case of winds that came from the land. A storm from the south-west was especially dreaded, as “the ships ran great hazard to be carried away from their anchors, and driven into the sea,” and during a tempest from that direction “10 or 12 barks had that misfortune befallen them, of the most part whereof never no news hath been heard since.”

As soon as building began at Ringsend the advantage of direct communication with Dublin was seen, and the Corporation were asked to assist in the erection of a bridge across the Dodder near the new settlement. The Corporation did not see their way to give “an allowance” for this purpose, as they thought it was the business of those who had a lease of the Ringsend lands to build the bridge, but before the time of the Commonwealth the work had been accomplished. The bridge did not prove the benefit that had been expected. No sooner was it completed, as the writer already quoted states, than the Dodder, in “one of its furious risings,” quite altered its channel, leaving the bridge, which was built of stone, standing on dry land. For a time the river was constrained to return from “its perverse course” to its original channel, but later on, as maps of the period show, the river broke bounds again, and gave necessity for a temporary wooden bridge as well as the permanent stone one.

During the troublous times a fort was erected on “the Ringsend.” It was intended for cannon, and was a strongly fortified building, provided with ramparts and a drawbridge. Although the Parliament had previously a force of over 70 men stationed at Ringsend, the fort was probably not erected there until after the battle of Rathmines, and had its origin in the danger to which the Parliamentary rulers then found the port of Dublin exposed. When the more peaceful days of the Protectorate came, a petition to the State from the Earl of Tyrconnel, then Viscount Fitzwilliam, for leave to remove the fort, was favourably considered, and permission was given to demolish it, on condition that the ironwork of the drawbridge was sent to the Government stores.

Ringsend had then become a populous and busy village, with the adjacent one of Irishtown as an adjunct. It has been suggested by an author whose contributions of late to the elucidation of Irish history have been most welcome, [See paper on “Irishtown, near Dublin” by Rev. J. P. Mahaffy, D. D., in Hermathena, No. xxxii., pp.165-167.] that Irishtown came into existence in consequence of an order of Henry Cromwell, while chief governor of this country, requiring the Irish inhabitants of Dublin to withdraw from the metropolis to some place not less than two miles distant. To some extent this order may have had the effect of swelling the population of Irishtown, but it seems probable that originally this village was an overflow from Ringsend. In the latter village persons of Irish extraction amounted to no more than a fourth of the inhabitants, far less than the number who must have found employment there, and the Irishtown inhabitants, of whom two-thirds were Irish, doubtless supplied the deficiency.

During the reign of Charles the Second the cross-Channel traffic greatly increased, and from it a large revenue came to Ringsend residents, especially to the owner of the King’s Head Tavern, a well-known place of resort. Communication with Dublin was maintained by means of what were known as Ringsend cars. Owing to the spreading of the Dodder at its mouth these cars, which were of most primitive construction, were able to cross the river at low water, and flew over the sands between Ringsend and Lazar Hill, now Townsend Street, without waiting to consider whether bridges were available. A few years after the Restoration, the Dublin correspondent of a London newspaper of the time reports that 5,000 people had gathered on the strand to witness a race by “the Ringsend coaches,” which he thinks it well to explain are ”an odd kind of car, and generally used in this country.” The race, in which 25 cars took part was under the patronage of the Lord Deputy, the Earl of Ossory, who offered a piece of plate as first prize, and “the humour” of it gave so much satisfaction that it was thought likely to become an annual event.

At the close of the 17th century there “rambled” one day to Ringsend a celebrated London bookseller of that time who had come to Ireland to push his trade. John Dunton, in his quaint way, tells how “at this harbour like Gravesend” he received noble treatment in the King’s Head, and how after an hour’s stay at that dear place, “as all port towns are,” he looked towards Dublin, and saw that the strand could not be crossed on foot by reason of “a pretty rapid stream.” To his aid there came a Ringsend car, which he found to be “a perfect car” on two wheels, with towards the back a seat for three passengers raised crossways. To this seat, which was covered with a cushion of patchwork suggestive of a beggar’s coat3 Dunton mounted, and, under the guidance of a charioteer, who took his stand on the crossbar of the car, was rattled over the sand at a gallop, which so jolted his sides that he was “in purgatory” until Lazar’s Hill was reached. There he surrendered with relief his seat, which had cost him four pence, but in spite of the discomfort he admits that these cars, of which there were then more than a hundred plying for hire, were “a great conveniency.”

The operations, which have resulted in rendering the Liffey navigable for ships of heavy burden, began in the early part of the 18th century. In the later part of the preceding century several writers of eminence had drawn attention to the condition of the Liffey, and had urged the advantage of making its quays more accessible on the ground, amongst others, of the expense of conveying from Ringsend to Dublin not only passengers but merchandise, a great quantity of which had then to be carried in litters. As it was seen that it would be useless to deepen the mouth of the river unless measures were taken to prevent the influx of sand from the coast to the south of Ringsend, the construction of a barrier, where the South Wall now runs, was undertaken at a very early stage of the work. For some distance from the Ringsend the original barrier was composed of piles, but further out, where there was deeper water, wooden casings filled with stones, which were brought by sea from Blackrock, were used.

But these works were necessarily slow, and a considerable time elapsed before an improvement in the port was perceptible. Storms still wrought terrible havoc, and the piles were found to be a new terror. In ordinary weather vessels were warned off by a lightship, which was stationed at the head of the piles, and displayed by day her ensign, and by night her lantern’s light, but in storms they were hurled against the piles and dashed to pieces, and sometimes the lightship herself was washed away from her moorings or deserted by her crew. In the broadside the artist has given a curious representation of the scene at Ringsend during a storm at that period, and the ballad-maker has told in piteous accents of its effects. The loss of nine ships near Ringsend is related. Of these one was the *Dublin Brothers *with 22 passengers from Bristol, another was laden with silk and apples from Rouen, five were colliers from Whitehaven, the eighth was laden with lead from Ipswich, and the ninth was laden with cheeses and copper from Chester.

Ringsend could then be included amongst the beautiful environs of Dublin, where “a pleasant airing” could be obtained, and the “clean and healthy” village contained many picturesque houses covered with vines and other creepers. To visitors Ringsend offered varied attractions. At the sign of the *Good Woman *oysters could be procured, “fresh and in their purity,” from the Poolbeg beds, and at the sign of the * Highlander *cockles, and doubtless shrimps, from the sand, while in summer sea-bathing and horse-racing afforded diversion. Amongst the industries carried on there were the manufacture of salt in works established by “a famous ‘English undertaker,” and shipbuilding. As the map, on which the latter industry is depicted, shows, both Ringsend and Irishtown then stood on a point still surrounded on all sides by sand, and throughout the 18th century the inhabitants suffered greatly from their liability to be cut off from the mainland by floods. To this cause the erection of Irishtown church, originally a royal, chapel, was due. The chief reason given for its foundation was the inability of the Government officials and other inhabitants in Ringsend to attend service in the parish church of Donnybrook “by reason of floods and overflowing of the highway,” and at a later date the road to Donnybrook, owing to its proximity to the Dodder, was stated to be “in the winter season and after any sudden rain very dangerous and often impracticable.” On one occasion towards the dose of that century, in consequence of exceptionally severe inundations, Ringsend is said to have resembled “a town which had experienced an the calamities of war,” and its bridge was carried away “by the overbearing floods which issued from the mountains in irresistible torrents.”

Before the middle of the 18th century the piles had begun to decay, and to be replaced by the present South Wall. During the construction of the wall a wooden house was erected on the piles as a residence for a caretaker, and to its humble occupant, whose name was Pidgeon, tradition attributes the name of the celebrated Pigeon House, once the station for the English packets, and now the main drainage and electric lighting works of the Corporation of Dublin. Of Pidgeon and his family there is told a marvellous tale in which love and murder, and probably fact and fiction, are strangely mingled. After putting forward the theory, too obvious to be true, that Ringsend obtained its name from rings placed round the point for the purpose of holding ships, the writer relates how Pidgeon carried on an illicit sale of spirituous liquors in his house, how he was robbed of his gains by four men, who in a fight for the booty killed one another, until only one remained to be hanged, and how Pidgeon, as well as his son, succumbed as a result of the encounter, leaving two young and lovely daughters, who through rescuing a traveller from a watery grave found good and rich husbands.

The house on the piles gave place to what was known as the Block House on the South Wall, but the name Pigeon House remained attached to the site of the caretaker’s dwelling, and became well known as the starting point for the English packets. For a time an hotel was established in the Block House, but this became merged in barracks which were erected near it, and early in the last century the whole wall was handed over to the military occupants, who have only in recent years deserted it.

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