SECTION XII

The Liberties - South Great George's, Aungier, Kevin Streets and the Coombe

Half way along the southern side of Dame Street is a sharp turning to the left which is barely wide enough to permit the entrance of the trams, which here branch off from the main line. This is South Great George's Street, a modern amplification of the old S. George's Lane. There was formerly in the neighbourhood a church dedicated to the patron saint of England, founded while the colonists were still a mere garrison in a foreign country, tenacious of their own nationality amid the overwhelming Celtic masses around. S. George was almost considered the patron saint of Dublin, too. In 1457 the parliament enacted that, whenever a seizure of cattle was made from the Irish, one cow in forty should be reserved for the church. The brotherhood for the defence of the Pale was called the Fraternity of S. George. The city celebrated annually the pageant of S. George and the Dragon, in which the mayor and mayoress took the parts of an emperor and his consort.

The first side street to the left is Exchequer Street, so called because the court of that name used to meet there. The position was somewhat exposed, as it lay outside the Castle and the town walls. In 1586, while the judges were in full session, the O'Byrnes swooped down from the mountains and obtained a great booty at the expense of the royal treasury. The suburb was seen to be dangerous. The Exchequer moved within the precincts of the Castle. During the wars that followed, S. George's Lane disappeared for a time.

Subsequently it was the home of Sir William Petty, the "admirable Crichton" of one period of Irish history. He was a great scientist, one of the first members of the Royal Society and the College of Physicians. He conducted mining and fishing operations, designed ships and carriages on new and original lines, and exposed the pretensions of quacks and faithhealers. At Oxford he had restored to life a woman hanged for infanticide.

His greatest feat was performed when the government of Oliver Cromwell required a survey of all the lands of Ireland, with a view to providing for their supporters out of the forfeited estates of the defeated party. The Book of Survey, which he drew up, is preserved in the Public Record Office and is still in frequent, almost daily, use. During this confiscation and those which followed three-fourths of the land of Ireland passed into the hands of successful soldiers and courtiers from England.

No.59 South Great George's Street has interesting theatrical associations. Here Madame Violante used to give a mixed performance of dancing, rope walking and pantomime not unlike a present day music hall. Just as in modern times, too, there were bitter complaints from the admirers of the legitimate drama, when its patrons deserted it in search of novelty? Violante organised a company of children to play the "Beggars' Opera," which they did with great spirit and effect. "Polly," the heroine, was played by a little girl of ten, who was afterwards known as the famous Peg Woffington. This early Dublin music hall was closed by the lord mayor on the grounds of morality.

A little further on the street changes its name, becoming Aungier Street. On the left hand side, marked by a bust in the wall and a prominent legend overhead, is the house which was the birthplace of Thomas Moore, best loved and best known of Irish poets. There is hardly a homestead in Ireland where his songs are not sung to this day.

In Peter Street, behind S. Peter's Church, is the old house of the Molyneux family, associated with the beginnings of the parliamentary struggle for Irish independence. It has now become the "Albert Hall," but a tablet records its history.

Just where Aungier Street narrows into Redmond's Hill, there is a turning to the right called Bishop Street. This is the most convenient way to the interesting, but terribly poor, quarter once known as "The Liberties." They were so called not because they were free, but because they were not under the city jurisdiction. In fact they had half a dozen masters. The Archbishop of Dublin executed justice and levied dues in one part, the Earl of Meath in another, not to mention some lesser overlords. Bishop Street becomes Kevin Street, called from a bygone church dedicated to the Celtic saint of that name, whose sanctuary is at Glendalough. The parishes here were manifestly of Irish origin, since they were placed under the protection of Saints Kevin, Bride (or Bridget) and Patrick. The cathedral of the latter begins to show its spire prominently on the right (pictured on right is Cathedral Place - showing a corner of S. Patrick's). The horse police barracks in Kevin Street contains the remains of S. Sepulchre's, the palace of the archbishops, which was built soon after the foundation of S. Patrick's. The ancient and finely carved stone. pillars of the main gate serve the same purpose for the policeman that they once did for the prelate. Through the wicket may be seen the battlemented walls of the old palace, which, like the cathedral, was intended as well for warlike as for ecclesiastical purposes. Internally, of course, there have been considerable alterations. Still an old wooden staircase, some doorways of antique form, and a fine wood carving of fruit, apparently pears and grapes, are yet to be seen.

Kevin Street soon becomes Deane Street, which again merges in the Coorribe. This name is the same "combe or coombe," which is so frequent in Devonshire and the south of England. It is the hollow, or river valley, of the Poddle, which here again has been driven to hide its dishonoured head underground. Thousands of weavers toiled at their looms in the Coombe and its side streets. Their old hall or meeting-place is half way along the street on the right hand side. Over the door stands a statue of one of the kings of England. The commercial order in those days was master, journeyman and apprentice. Here and there on both sides of the present thoroughfare are still to be seen the peculiar high-gabled houses with their small-paned windows, in which the master watched over his hired journeymen and taught the trade to his apprentices.

In the district beyond the Coombe the curious visitor may see whole streets composed solely of this type of dwelling, so prevalent two or three centuries ago. Such are Chamber Street, Pool Street and Weaver Square (pictured on left), all near the western end of the Coombe. They are often called "Huguenot streets" from a tradition that the weaving industry was established in Dublin by French Protestant refugees. However, it is probable that it was already in existence before their arrival. The continuous rows of pointed gable-ends facing the spectator produce a quaint effect, bringing old Dublin vividly before the eye. Just such houses as these once lined Dame Street and College Green, though not many now survive.

The weavers were a turbulent class. They crossed the Liffey to wage war with the butchers of Ormond Quay. The brawny butchers usually had the upper hand, however, and are said sometimes, in cruel sport, to have attached their meat hooks to fallen weavers, whom they dragged about in triumph There was usually internecine war within the limits of the trade, the men, just as now, demanding higher wages and shorter hours, the masters refusing to comply and calling for troops and proclamations to suppress the incendiarism and violence by which the journeymen showed their resentment. Sometimes master and man joined in fierce campaigns against imported goods and all who wore them in preference to Irish. Any such persons who ventured into the Liberties ran a risk of being mobbed and maltreated.

One man in Irish history obtained a wonderful hold over these somewhat riotous artisans. Dean Swift, by his Drapier Letters, written in the character of a plain shopkeeper, at once became the leader and spokesman of the population around, whose minds he dominated just as his cathedral spire dominated their houses clustering round its foot. His authority was not confined to politics. There is a story that a crowd, which had assembled near S. Patrick's to watch for an eclipse of the moon, dispersed at once on hearing a message from the Dean that the eclipse had been postponed by his orders.

Off the Coombe to the left ran Skinner's Alley, famous for its society of Aldermen. When James II. displaced the Protestant Corporation of Dublin to make room for Catholics, a few members of the original body sought refuge for themselves and the regalia of the city in this obscure nook.

After the Boyne they emerged from their concealment, presented themselves to Icing William and were by him accepted as the lawful representatives of Dublin. As the anniversary of their reinstatement came round, the lately dispossessed corporators celebrated their deliverance by a banquet. In course of time a convivial society was formed, calling itself the Aldermen of Skinner's Alley. Its organisation was modelled on the city government. Every civic officer had his counterpart in the Alley, except that its head was called the governor, not the lord mayor. It was ferociously Williamite, as might naturally be expected. The Charter Song is a delightful piece of humour, apparently quite unintentional.

"When Tyranny's detested power
Had leagued with superstition,
And bigot James, in evil hour
Began his luckless mission,
Still here survived the sacred flame,
Here Freedom's sons did rally
And consecrate to deathless Fame
The Men of Skinner's Alley."

So it goes on for several verses, ascribing all the possible virtues to the men of this obscure by-street, until, at last, the reader's smile is provoked by a strain so reminiscent of Ancient Pistol. Here, too, is said to have originated the famous Orange toast, "To the glorious, pious and immortal memory of the Great and Good King William III., who saved us from popery, slavery, arbitrary power, brass money and wooden shoes." The wooden shoes were specially singled out, because they were a mark of French nationality, and, therefore, of timid subservience to a despotic king.