The Quays

The Quays, Bridges, and the Four Courts.

Foreign Air of the Quays. - Thackeray’s Admiration. - Ormond Quay. - Arran Quay. - Smoke Alley. - Skynners’ Row. - The Tholsel. - Bloody Bridge. - The Custom-House. - The Liffey. - Izod’s Tower. - The Four Courts. - Chancery Lane. - “Deil’s in Hell.” - Carlyle’s Opinion of “the Puir Irish.” - The Reputation of the Irish Bar. - The Disputes about the Custom-House. - Gandon to leave Dublin. - Recalled.

Much of the picturesque appearance” of Dublin is due to the Quays which intersect the City and the Bridges which span the Liffey; they impart to it a foreign air somewhat resembling the Quays of Paris. No finer prospect can be seen than from Carlisle Bridge. “Beautiful,” “writes Thackeray; “the Four Courts and dome to the left, the Custom House and dome to the right, vessels on the river, the scene animated and lively.”

(This was written in 1847, before Carlisle Bridge was removed. The dome of the Four Courts is unfortunately not now visible from the bridge.)

All this must have been infinitely more lively when the river was crowded with trading vessels from all parts, and the costumes of the foreign sailors gave brightness to the scene.

Some of the houses along the continuous embankment are more than a hundred years old; they wear what Mr. George Moore ” calls a “sinister air. Many of them are book-shops, where old and sometimes rare books can be found - as at Mr. Traynor’s establishment on Essex Quay,(later move to Dame Street) through whose hands passed, at the time of the Encumbered Estates Sales, some of the finest old libraries in Ireland. At No. 12, Arran Quay, Burke was born. It is a very unpretending house, now occupied by Denis Moran a tailor. It was a long time uncertain where the great orator saw the light; and when the fact was established beyond dispute, Sir Joseph Napier, the then Chancellor of Ireland, declared that he felt more than the delight of Niebuhr when he thought he had made out the site of Cicero’s house near the Forum.

The Quays (are named after the Bridges. No. 13 Essex Quay was the residence of William Mossop, and the birthplace of his son, an actor of high repute) in the old days of Dublin had somewhat of an evil reputation. Ormond Quay especially was noted for the savage fights between the Ormond Quay boys, who carried on the trade of butchers, and the Coombe or Liberty boys. The latter were generally the aggressors, descending suddenly upon their enemies, when bridges were stormed and retaken. About 1,000 combatants were sometimes engaged in these sanguinary encounters. On one occasion the Coombe boys, intoxicated with victory, hooked a number of the unfortunate Ormond boys by the jaws to their own flesh hooks.

The Trinity College students, who where always ready to take part in any City tumult, were the allies of the Liberty boys, and very formidable enemies to the butchers, as they had an unpleasant habit of slinging in the sleeve or skirt of their gowns the heavy key 9f their college rooms.

Branching off from the Quays, on each side are narrow lanes or streets, many of which are nests of poverty and disease. But although most objectionable from a sanitary point of view, these bits are eminently picturesque. The one presented here shows Christ Church in the distance. One of these alleys was Smoke Alley, where the theatre was situated with which are associated the names of some of the most famous actors and actresses. Garrick and Peg Woffington played here, as also Miss Farren, Kemble, and Mrs. Siddons.

The theatre was by no means unworthy of the actors, being large and well built, and with fine acoustic properties. Its being placed in Smoke Alley was a mistake, the lane being so narrow that only one carriage could pass at a time. The noise made by the block of carriages, chairs, and noddies, the shouting of the torch-bearers, the swearing of the coachmen, and the quarrels of the footmen, made sleep impossible to the inhabitants of the lane, who therefore spent the evening with their heads out of the windows, making choice observations upon the company as they came forth from the theatre.

Skinners’ Row, now Christchurch Place, was another of those alleys along which the coaches passed with much difficulty, as here the space was so narrow that it was easy to drop from one of the windows on to the top of the coach as it went by. Skynners’ or Skinners’ Row - styled in old records Vicus Pellipariorum, or the Street of the Curriers - was, as this title denotes, principally inhabited by those who prepared hides and leather - a trade which formed one of the branches of Irish commerce with the Continent before and after the Anglo-Norman Conquest.

The original Skinners’ Row was destroyed in 1284; and when the lane was rebuilt, the Tholsel, or “Le tholsey,” was erected. It is described by Camden as being built of hewn stone. The history of this first building is rather a stormy chronicle. At one time (in Elizabeth’s reign) it was suggested to make of it a nursery for learning. The apropos of this is hard to understand. Again in the succeeding years disputes were fierce and constant between the Catholic citizens and the Protestant or English colonists, principally as to the election of sheriffs and burgesses of the City. In Cromwell’s time the Tholsel was made into the Parliament House, and committees were held there in Charles II.’s reign. At this period the old building showed signs of going to pieces, and in 1683 a new City Hall was built on the same site. This last must have been a handsome building, suggestive of Christopher Wren. The window over the vestibule in the centre had niches on each side, in which stood William de Keyser’s fine statues of Charles II. and his brother James. They are in full costume, robes, and periwigs. These statues are now in the side aisle of Christchurch, in excellent preservation.

At the Tholsel the City feasts were given; and here, in 1691, General Ginkle, fresh from the siege of Limerick, was entertained at a banquet, followed by a ball and fireworks. Ladies occasionally honoured these civic entertainments. The Duke and Duchess of Ormonde, accompanied by Lady Mary Butler and the Earl of Abercorn, were given a splendid banquet and ball with much sweetmeats in 1703 ; but after the Duke’s treasonable practices it 1715, his escutcheon was taken down by the City authorities.

Quarter Sessions were always held in the Tholsel, and malefactors were sentenced by the Lord Mayor to be “whipped at a cart’s tail from the Tholsel to Parliament House in College Green.” Dean Swift made his last public appearance at a dinner given at the Tholsel to protest against the lowering of the gold coin.

Towards the close of the last century, the Tholsel showed symptoms of following the course of the first building, the decay in both instances being caused, it was said, by the marshy nature of the soil. A new House of Sessions was therefore erected in Green Street, near William Street; and after lingering some little time, the old building, having become a total wreck, was taken down in 1809, and the site is now occupied by houses Nos. 1, 2, and 3 Christchurch Place.

The Bridges which cross the Liffey are 10 in number. They were originally constructed after the pattern of Old London Bridge as we know it in the prints-narrow and high, with vaulted arches. Houses were often erected upon them. Essex Bridge, now Grattan Bridge, is the oldest survivor of these original bridges, being built in 1756. The old Custom House used to stand just below it. It was from here the unfortunate Emmet sent up the rocket which was the signal for his followers to issue from their hiding-places in the Liberties (See Chapter IV). Barrack Bridge, now Victoria Bridge, has a sanguinary reputation, as here was fought a fierce conflict between the apprentices and the soldiers belonging to the barracks of Island Bridge. From this encounter the bridge earned the name of Bloody Bridge. The broad, handsome bridge now called O’Connell Bridge, originally named Carlisle Bridge, was built in 1794, to be of use to the Custom House, then just finished.

[Sarah Bridge, erected 1791; King’s Bridge, 1821**; **Victoria, 1863; Queen’s Bridge, 1764-8, built to replace Arran Bridge; Whitworth Bridge, 1816; Richmond Bridge, 1816; Grattan Bridge, 1756, enlarged 1874; Wellington Bridge, 1816; Ormond Bridge, 1794, and enlarged 1880; Butt Bridge; 1878.]

The Custom House as it at present stands was begun in 1781, the architect being James Gandon, a pupil of Sir William Chambers. The old Custom House upon Essex Bridge had been found unsatisfactory, as large vessels coming up the river to discharge their cargoes were liable to strike upon a massive rock called “Standfast Dick.” [The Royal Exchequer, Cork Hill, is built upon “Standfast Dick.”] Although it was for the manifest advantage of trade that a new site for a Custom House should be found, the scheme met with an organized opposition, principally because it was proposed by John Beresford, the unpopular Commissioner of Public Works. He, however, carried his point; and in 1781 the Custom House as it is now was commenced. The first estimate was £10,000; but the building eventually cost five times that sum.

Beautiful as the Custom House is, there is no doubt that it would have been far more striking had it been placed, as originally intended, farther from the water’s edge. Beresford, however, wanted all the available space for the building of Beresford Place, which he intended should be occupied by merchants and traders, to -whom the neighbourhood of the Custom House would be of infinite advantage. This hope was not realized.

The passing of the Act of Union struck a blow to all foreign trade with Ireland, and the sear of decay has fallen upon Beresford Place. It wears, like most of the squares and streets on the north side of Dublin, a faded appearance of gentility, as of having seen better days.

From the Custom House the shining waters of the Liffey flow, eastward towards the sea, westward in the direction of Island Bridge and Chapelizod. Dear old Liffey! Insalubrious and ill-smelling as your uncleansed waters may be, there lingers round you a certain atmosphere of romance that condones the unsavoury odours you exhale. Of a summer’s evening, when the sun is setting on your turbid waters, it touches the great dome of the Four Courts, and slants across the dark houses on the Quays, carrying back one’s thoughts to the long-faded glories of Dublin.

Along the Quays, the object of the greatest interest is the beautiful building of the Four Courts, as the Temple of Themis is called, designed by Cooley, a native architect of great merit, whose principal work, the Royal Exchange, must always be admired.

Up to this time the Bar of Dublin had led somewhat of a peripatetic existence, being sent, as it might be, from post to pillar in very undignified fashion. At one period St. Patrick’s Cathedral was made use of as a hall for the Justices; and later we find them located within the precincts of Holy Trinity.

Near Christchurch Cathedral, which was hemmed in on all sides by narrow lanes, there was formerly a passage, to which was given the fearful appellation of “Hell.” Here there were some mean shops, where lodgings were to let, as we learn from an old newspaper cutting, “To be let, furnished lodgings in Hell. N.B. - They are well suited to lawyers.” In an archway leading to the Chancery Lane there was a wooden statue of his Satanic Majesty, with horns and tail complete. The fame of this diabolic figure reached Scotland, for in his ballad “Death and Doctor Hornbrook” allusion is made by Burns in the following lines:

But this that I am gaun to tell,

Which lately on a night befell,

Is just as true’s the Deil’s in Hell

In Dublin City.

His effigy was there at all events, for a gentleman not many years dead remembered seeing it. When it was removed, it was worked up by some ingenious tradesman into snuff-boxes and other relics. Sic transit gloria Diaboli!

It has been said of the Irish capital that its two great possessions are the Castle and the Four Courts. Whatever may be the opinion concerning the first-named, it is quite certain that the legal element dominates society in Dublin, and is held in the highest respect. The leading members, *i.e. *the Chancellor and the Judges, do duty for the absentee nobility, who have long since ceased to reside in the little capital, only putting in an appearance during the Castle season.

Hence the lawyers and their wives do the “representation, ” live in the finest houses, drive the finest carriages, and entertain the Lord-Lieutenant. The Irish are credited, and perhaps correctly, with being a litigious people. “All the litigation of Ireland,” says Carlyle, “Whatever the wretched Irish people, will still for the voiding of their quarrels come hither. ” And why not? Did not you, O sage of Chelsea, threaten to void your quarrel in a law court against the cock that disturbed your august slumbers? For the rest, Carlyle’s sneer does not affect the reputation of the Irish Bar, its roll-call including the names of some of the ablest lawyers Great Britain has ever produced-men whose legal ability was allied to unsurpassed eloquence, a coalition not always to be met with.

Such were Curran, Burke, Plunket, Burrowes; O’Connell, Sheil, Fitzgibbon (Lord Clare), Wolfe (Lord Kilwarden), Scott (Lord Clonmell), Yelverton (Lord Avonmore). These men were the admiration of the last century; while, coming nearer our own day, we can point to Lord O’Hagan, Chancellor of Ireland, and Lord Killowen, Lord Chief Justice of England.

Although the flar of Ireland cannot boast of such giants of eloquence as heretofore, there are many brilliant’ speakers who can brighten up the dull monotony of the law by sparkles of wit, which prove that the Irish Bar has not lost its reputation for genuine humour.

The situation of the Four Courts is admirable. Standing as it does in the very centre of the Quays between Richmond and Whitworth Bridges, it dominates the City, and can be seen from all points. The chief entrance is through a fine Corinthian portico, upon the apex of which stands a statue of Moses (why Moses?), supported on either side by figures of Justice and Mercy, while at each corner Wisdom and Authority are seated. The portico leads into the great Hall, in which, says the tongue of scandal, all the gossip of Dublin originates; for here congregate the barristers young and old, all like so many schoolboys let loose from their class-room.

The building, which was begun by Cooley, was finished by James Gandon-not, however, for many years, a battle quite as fierce as that which was fought over the Custom House taking place between the Corporation of Dublin and the obnoxious John Beresford, Commissioner of Public Works. The opposition grew so serious that Gandon had to leave Dublin. He remained in London until recalled, when the Centre Hall and Screen Arcade were completed.

Before concluding this chapter, I would like to call our tourist’s attention to the Church of St. Michan, one of the most ancient churches in Dublin, being built by ‘the Danes after they had been conquered by the Brian Boroimhe. Those of them who survived the famous Battle of Clontarf were allowed to remain in the City on payment of an enormous annual subsidy. They were likewise forced to migrate to the north side of the Liffey, and at a place called Oxmantown they established themselves. It was these Danes who built St. Michan’s Church, calling it after a saint of their own nationality. The Danish settlement died out, getting, as such settlements do, absorbed in the native population; and, in 1554 the parish of St. Michan was erected into a prebend of Christchurch by Archbishop Browne.

The Church as it now stands preserves very little of the original building. The tower is supposed to be the most ancient part of the edifice. Mr. Gladstone, some years since, was taken to see St. Michan’s, and was greatly impressed by the elegant proportions of this tower.

It was the universal belief that the organ in this Church was the one played upon by Handel in the Fishamble Street Theatre. But in an interesting letter published in Mr. Wakeman’s “Old Dublin” this theory is very clearly disproved; for, according to the manuscript record-book of the Church, after a sermon on *church music, *a collection from house to house was made, when sufficient money was raised arid an organ was built by Cuvillie.

To the lovers of the ghastly, the vaults of St. Michan’s Church have a horrible attraction. Here, as in the Sicilian catacombs, the bodies are said not to decay, the vaults possessing an antiseptic or drying-up property.

Mrs. S. C. Hall, who visited these vaults in 1840, describes the principal vault as a long corridor which does not possess the indestructible quality, which is only to be found in a smaller chamber; and here she makes the extraordinary statement: “In this inner chamber we were shown the body of St. Michan, which has lain here 200 years. It is perfect; the flesh is hard as any mummy, although the skin is not mummified, being more like a piece of parchment.” This story must have been evolved out of Mrs. S. C. Hall’s own imagination, no other visitor having seen St. Michan’s corpse, which, for the rest, would have dated back nearer to a 1,000 than 200 years.

The Rev. Caesar Otway’s impressions are very different from those of Mrs. Hall. “Here death,” he says, “is making a mockery of mortality, having skin in rags and tatters, while allowing skin, muscle, and cartilage to remain. The transition stage,” he adds, “between preservation and decay is most horrible, to look at. There lay a large man, whose head was on one side, either so placed in order to fit into his coffin, or else (the idea is fearful!) he had come to life in his narrow cell, and after horrible contortions had died for want of air. The skin on the head, the cartilages of the nose, the cellular substance of the legs, the capsular ligaments of the joints and fingers, were all preserved; but, oh! the torn, worn, tattered skin, just like decaying, discoloured parchment, exhibiting all the colours belonging to the slowest possible decay - blue, green, yellow - the mildew and mouldiness of a century! Never will the image of that ghastly specimen of decay be effaced from my memory. ”

Another ghastly tale attaches to the bodies of the two Sheares, who were executed for treason, and for some reason buried in these vaults. They had been, as was usual in those days of barbarous executions, decapitated. Their heads were laid in their coffins; that of John Sheares was stolen, and brought to a gentleman, who ultimately gave it to Dr. Madden, who replaced it in John Sheares’ coffin. In the cemetery of the Church there are the graves of many of the unfortunate men who were implicated in the rising of 1798, and who underwent the extreme penalty of the law. For many years it was said that Emmet was buried here, and that a plain, uninscribed stone marks his grave. On the other hand, it was always asserted by Dr. Petrie, the most intimate friend of the Emmet family, that Glasnevin was the resting-place of Sarah Curran’s lover.

[John and Henry Sheares were born in Cork. Their mother was a relative of Lord Shannon. John was present at the execution of Louis XIV., and on his return from France he exhibited on the steamboat a handkerchief steeped in the blood of the murdered King, which disgusted O’Connell, who was one of the passengers. Henry, who was a clever lawyer, could not get on at the Bar from the open hostility of Lord Clare, who had been in love with Alicia Swete, who had rejected him for Henry. She was, however, many years dead at the time of the trial, and Henry Sheares had married again.]

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