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Imagine that you are a member of the watch on duty on the western walls of Dublin behind
Bridge Street. The time is shortly after midnight, early in the year 1642. It is a bitterly cold
dark night with no sound except the occasional raucous shouts and laughter of some soldiers
in the streets below. Suddenly you hear a crash but you cannot identify what caused
it. In reality, the sound you have heard is that of a man jumping from one of the upper
back windows of a house in Bridge Street. It is not just any man. The person who has
escaped is, in fact, a priest, the head of one of the Catholic religious orders in the
city, and someone whom the authorities would dearly like to capture.
I shall return to the story of the priest later. This short account, however, illustrates
several of the night-time problems which Dublin had to face in the 1640s, for example, the
cold ñ the seventeenth century was known as the Mini-Ice Age, the darkness ñ gas and
electric lighting were centuries in the future - and the serious threat of attack from outside,
not from foreigners, but from the native Irish, most of whom were Catholics. Another difficulty
which the citizens of this city had to face during the hours of darkness was the danger
of fire.
Enormous changes took place in our city during the seventeenth century. In 1600 it was a
small walled city with possibly 10,000 inhabitants. By the end of the century the city had spread
outside the walls in all directions and its population was in the region of 70,000. Dublin
was fast becoming one of Europeís great cities. But there were other changes which affected
the lives of the people. The centre city, mainly Catholic at the beginning of the century,
was now largely Protestant. New churches and other elegant buildings, such as the Royal
Hospital, now graced the city. The walls, or what remained of them, were no longer a
secure barrier to entry to the city. But perhaps the change that older people would have noticed
most in their day-to-day lives was the great increase in traffic, especially coaches, with
which the many narrow streets were ill-equipped to cope.
Before looking at some of the more dramatic events which took place at night during the
early modern period and, in particular, the seventeenth century, I should like to say
something about the effects of darkness on the lives of the ordinary people. The inhabitants
of Dublin City were familiar with the measurement of time from the late Middle Ages as there
had been a public clock on top of the Tholsel (or City Hall) since at least 1466. The bells
of the many churches, particularly those of Christ Church and St Audoenís, rang out at
regular intervals. To cope with the long hours of darkness, especially during the winter,
some form of lighting was needed, at home and in the streets. In the home, as well as
simple rush-lights, candles were used and these candles were made, generally from tallow,
by craftsmen who were members of the Guild of Tallow Chandlers, Soap Boilers and Wax-light
Makers. This guild was founded in 1583 but may have replaced an earlier guild. Unlike
London, which had separate guilds for wax chandlers, who made candles from beeswax for
churches and for the nobility, and tallow chandlers, who made candles from tallow for
general use, both types of craftsmen in Dublin belonged to the same guild. Tallow was the
main commodity used for candle-making in Dublin and, as this was supplied by the butchers,
it became necessary to control their activities as well as those of the tallow-chandlers,
to ensure that citizens paid a fair price for these essential commodities. In the year
1600, for example, the assembly imposed maximum prices of 2s. 4d. sterling, per stone of tallow
and 3d. per pound of candles.
Formal street lighting seems to have developed rather late in Dublin. While public lighting
was necessary for the safety of citizens it is not clear how exactly this was provided
in the early years. A single reference in the Dublin Assembly Rolls for 1585 may give
us a clue as to how the system operated. In that year ëa lease was made to George Ussher
for forty-one years of a shop lately built near the High Conduit Ö he to find a lantern
with candlelight from 6 to 9 oíclock to light passengersí. This would suggest that householders,
or at least businesses, were responsible for providing lights outside their premises. The
lanterns were probably affixed to brackets placed over or near the main door or to adjoining
railings. A perusal of a selection of leases suggests that this formal stipulation was
unusual. Since it was clearly in the interests of shops and businesses to ensure that their
premises were well-lit it was probably also unnecessary. However, it may have been considered
advisable to include it in the Ussher lease because the shop was newly-built.
While the provision of street lighting during the early part of the seventeenth century
seems to have been the responsibility of individuals the city assembly provided candles in certain
circumstances. It did so, for example, for the courts of guard, soldiers and armed citizens
who guarded the city when there was a threat of attack by the Ulster Irish during the Nine
Yearsí War and, more particularly, during the period 1597-1600. Even after the threat
of surprise had receded the practice of providing the watchmen with fire and candles continued.
There were other problems associated with darkness. In 1603, for example,
the inhabitants of Cook Street complained that the lane leading from St Michaelís Lane
to the Quay is abused by night by the inhabitants thereabouts, by casting filth and excrements
there and requested to have a grate of timber made at either end, to prevent the same: it
is therefore ordered Ö, that if the inhabitants shall consent to contribute to that charge,
that then the said grates shall be made, and that the keys of the locks thereof be given
into the custody of the inhabitants of that lane, to be kept every night by turns for
the commodity of their own passages in and out at all times Ö
By 1608 it was clear that that this problem had not been solved for it was agreed to make
ëtwo gates at both the ends of Rosemary Lane to avoid the noisomes thereofí. It seems
that the difficulty arose to some extent because the two ends of the tiny lane lay in different
wards and it was necessary to assign responsibility both for the building and for the nightly
closing of the gates to two different sets of officials.
In 1616 the assembly decreed that
every fifth house throughout this city and suburbs shall have lantern and candlelight
set forth from six of the clock to nine every dark night from All Hallowstide until Candlemas
and a fortnight after; Ö and whosoever shall offend contrary to this law, to be committed
by Mr Mayor, and to pay six pence, sterling, fine for every nightís default Öí.
During the second half of the seventeenth century the city assembly gave the lead in
providing lighting for its own premises when it erected a lantern known variously as the
Globe Lantern or the Great Lantern. It is not clear where this lantern was placed but
it seems likely that it was in Cornmarket at the entrance to the Tholsel, the forerunner
of the City Hall. Between 1682 and the end of the century this lantern had to be replaced
twice and mended on several occasions so it cannot have been very sturdy or reliable.
Responsibility for provision of street lighting still lay primarily with individual citizens
although it was now overseen by officials. In 1687 the assembly modified this regulation
when it specified that
for prevention of many mischiefs and inconveniences in the streets in the dark nights, that lanterns
and candles be hung out in the respective streets of this city every night during the
winter season, that is to say, five inhabitants on one side of each street, and five on the
other, to contribute to hang out at convenient distances one lantern and candles, to be done
at the charge of ten of the said inhabitants of each street, and to be hung out from five
of the clock until ten of the clock at night, and such candles to be of the bigness of four
to the pound at least, the said lanterns to be placed in such convenient places as the
Lord Mayor and Sheriffs for the time being shall direct.
We note that this regulation acknowledged that dark streets were a problem, that the
hours in which public lighting needed to be provided should be extended from three to
five, that candles of a certain size were required and that control of this form of
lighting needed to be centralised. There did not seem to be any attempt to deal with the
provision of light on dark winter mornings
The growth of the city brought with it its own problems and dangers. In 1695 members
of the assembly pointed out that the way from Ormond Market to Ormond Bridge was very dangerous
ëin the night time by reason of the key not being fenced with a wall from the said Bridge
down to the Slip, where a poor man lately fell and drowned himself.í Later in the same
year it emerged that the parishes were no longer able to cope with their responsibilities
in relation to poor relief. The records describe the problem graphically as follows:
Ö forasmuch as it was apparent that a great number of sturdy beggars, both men and women,
did resort with their children, which they sent in the night to beg at the doors, and
disquieted the inhabitants, and particularly the most considerable persons, crying at their
doors at unseasonable hours in the night to excite them to give them relief, which, if
not prevented, might occasion their leaders and other idlers and vagabonds to take an
opportunity to rob and plunder houses when open to give relief to those troublesome children
Ö
The response of the assembly was to move a little closer to centralisation by setting
up a fund to deal with beggars not maintained by the parishes. Two years later a merchant,
Michael Cole, came up with a proposal for an elaborate scheme of public lighting on
the lines of those which already existed in Holland and parts of London. He pointed out
that few of the existing lights in the city continued burning after nine oíclock by which
time, as he said, ëmost mischiefs are doneí and suggested that the new system of lights,
which he proposed to introduce should parliament agree to his proposal, should burn from six
oíclock until midnight from 29th September until 25th March if, as he said, ëit be so
long darkí. The fee to be charged for the lights was to be three shillings a year per
house in the main streets and two shillings a year in the lanes and alleys. The city assembly
accepted his proposal but the Act of Parliament passed later in the same year, granting Cole
the commission for eighteen years, specified that the lights should burn from five in the
evening until midnight ëor during so much time thereof as shall not be enlightened by
the mooní. The citywide introduction of public lighting made socialising after nightfall
in the capital very much easier. Half a century later the drawings of Joseph Tudor showed
how elegant public lights had been installed in College Green, Sackville Street and on
Essex Bridge but his sketches of Trinity College and Dublin Castle suggest that there was still
room for improving public lighting.
One of the most remarkable features of the seventeenth century in northern Europe was
the cold. Ireland and Dublin did not escape. A marginal drawing on Speedís map of Dublin,
first published in 1610, suggests that all classes of the Irish dressed warmly. As well
as items relating to the provision of fuel there are occasional references to the weather
in the city records. In 1608 the city assembly voted money to repair the piles of the cityís
only bridge which had been damaged by frost. In 1665 the assembly sanctioned a request
by the master of a Free School for the provision of a chimney in the schoolhouse. During the
winter of 1684/5 a wall in Oxmantown was destroyed by a hard frost. In 1695 and again in 1697
payments were made for the removal of snow from the leads of the newly-rebuilt Tholsel.
The city fathers themselves felt the cold. In 1618 they reported that:
the commons have been humble petitioners to the said assembly, praying that the now water
bailiffs might be tied to find three good fires on the two winter assembly days and
Easter assembly day in the upper room of the Tholsel, being extreme cold for such as attend
there; and if they think it chargeable, that others that are willing to take the same may
be granted their places: it is therefore ordered Ö that the water bailiffs for the time being
shall find three sufficient fires as is desired for the same allowance already given them,
otherwise the same to be taken from them Ö
The needs of the members continued to be looked after. The costs of a fire shovel, a pair
of tongs and a fork for the use of the Tholsel were included in a payment of £2-9-3 made
in 1651 to Lewis Williams, smith.
Coal was either imported or brought to the capital from Kilkenny. The woods, which had
once been a great feature of the landscape had been largely depleted, especially to the
north of the city. Yet the demand for firing was very great, not just for private households
but for the Courts of Guard who guarded the walls and gates of the city during wartime
and who continued to function long after the military danger was over. For example the
City Treasurerís Accounts show that the renting of a cellar on Merchants Quay for thirty-four
weeks ending on 22 February 1651, to store coal and furze for these guards, cost the
city assembly, two shillings and sixpence a week. About the same time a further payment
of £16-0-0 was made for renting a house, also on Merchantís Quay, for storing coals
and fuel.
In the winter of 1689/90 when James II was resident in Dublin it emerged that traders
were reluctant to supply fuel to the city for fear their goods and horses and carriages
would be seized by the military for the kingís service. This applied in particular to coal
coming from County Kilkenny. The king was forced to issue a proclamation guaranteeing
safe passage for such goods.
The danger of fire was intensified during the extremely cold nights. Responsibility
for fire-fighting, while generally left to the parishes, was, on occasion, centralised.
As early as January 1547 the city assembly agreed to provide twelve graps (or grappling
hooks) of iron for, as they put it, ëpulling down of houses that shall chance to be afire,
and forty buckets of leather for carrying of waterí. In 1569 there was a further centralised
attempt to cope with fires when the aldermen agreed to the purchase of ëfour yarn grappers
and twelve leather buckets in case of fire. However, in 1573 the assembly decreed:
Ö that every parish within this city and suburbs of the same, shall make, upon their
own proper costs and charges, certain grapers, with their chains and ropes, with ladders
to be kept within their parish churches, and the same to be made by the oversight of the
chief in every parish, and the charges thereof to be cessed by them according to the hability
of the parishioners.
Apparently, these measures were not successful for, in the year 1596, when the threat of
war was at its height the assembly issued much more precise instructions as follows:
Whereas great danger happeneth often times by the extremity of fire, and little or no
provision amongst us to prevent the same: it is therefore ordered Ö that the sum of
xxiv li. sterling, shall be presently levied Ö and the same money to be bestowed with
all speed in buying and providing three score buckets, six ladders of *** foot long apiece,
or thereabouts, two crooks, with their chains and ropes; and to repair the two crooks which
at this present we have. Ö
In 1610 the assembly moved to ban the building of thatched houses in the suburbs. Later in
the same year the assembly once again tried to centralise fire-fighting when, at the request
of the commons, it decreed that:-
in so much as John Frankton, printer, hath lately brought out of London one dozen of
buckets, Ö it is therefore ordered Ö that Mr Treasurer shall buy the said dozen of buckets
to the use of this city, and shall hang the same in the Tholsel, and shall also prepare
these ladders at the city cost, and shall repair the hooks with expedition, which ladders
and hooks shall be chained up under the Newgate, and the gaoler to take charge thereof, and
not to lend out the same upon any occasion but only the occasion of fire.
Two years later the assembly reverted to the parish model of fire-fighting when it enacted
that
from henceforth there shall be forthwith made and provided in every parish throughout this
city and suburbs, upon the charge of the inhabitants of the said parish, one dozen of buckets,
two fair large ladders and one hook, the same to be marked with two letters, which are to
remain in the parish church of every of the said parishes, in the charge and custody of
the churchwardens of the said church; and that the same shall not be lent to any person
or persons whatsoever but when occasion shall be to prevent the like accidents of fire,
Ö
In 1623, apparently as a result of local fires, the assembly banned the melting of tallow
within the city and imposed the then enormous penalty of £40 for breaches of this law.
In July 1653, during the Commonwealth, members of the city assembly requested the purchase
of engines for fire-fighting. The City Treasurerís Accounts record two payments made in the following
year, one of 13s 4d to Simon Toole, carpenter, and the other of 5s to William Lowe, smith,
for repairing ëthe engine which was broken in quenching the late fire in St Patrickís
Streetí. In the same year, responsibility was once more, transferred to the parishes
in the city and the liberties. It was agreed that
Mr. Mayor give order to the inhabitants of every parish within this city and suburbs
of Dublin to provide two dozen of buckets for each parish, and a good long ladder, and
two hooks with their chains and chains ropes, in each parish for prevention of mischief
by fire, to be kept for that use in or near the respective churches of the parishes aforesaid,
and forthwith the same to be provided at the charge of each parish respectively.
In 1657 a further danger came to light when it was discovered that the cistern at the
pillory was dry. The assembly decided to acquire a large pump and to repair the pipes .
Perhaps the most serious fire threat to the city occurred at one oíclock in the morning
of 7 April 1684 when, not for the first time, a fire broke out in Dublin Castle where Richard
Butler, earl of Arran, then lord deputy, was resident. A letter of thanks, sent by the
city assembly to the lord deputy on the following day, shows an interesting set of priorities.
It stated that
Ö by your excellencies great presence of mind, care and conduct in the midst of those
devouring flames which encompassed you, not only the remaining part of the buildings in
the castle, but the great magazine of powder, to which the fire had within few steps approached,
was wonderfully preserved, and the ancient records of this kingdom, then also in the
castle, rescued from those flames, by which not only this city now remains in being, which
otherwise in few minutes had been a heap of rubbish, mingled with the lives and fortunes
of very many of his majesties loyal subjects, but also those ancient records had been destroyed,
which now live as monuments of your excellencies care of them, and your own deliverance, to
the great and general benefit of the whole kingdom Ö
Historians had cause to be grateful for Richard Butlerís intervention on that fateful night
in 1684. In the following year the assembly moved against another potential source of
fire, when it enacted that
whereas great danger often happens by fire, and great tumults [are] occasioned in this
city by chimneys which are so much neglected to be swept and kept clean, Ö it is therefore
ordered, Ö that Ö the inhabitants of this city, do from henceforth keep their chimneys
duly swept and clean from soot, and whoever neglect so to do that their chimneys take
fire, every one and occupier thereof to forfeit the sum of twenty shillings, sterling, to
be paid to the churchwardens of the parish where such fire shall happen to the use of
the poor of such parish Ö
During the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries and, particularly from 1594 to 1603,
the citizens of Dublin feared attack by Gaelic-Irish forces. The watchmen, who guarded the city
walls were under the control of constables, appointed and paid for by the individual wards.
The constables were required to carry metal staffs, called tipstaffs. In 1584 the regulations
specified that
no constable being sent for in night-time to come before Mr Mayor for the time being
to execute any thing that concerns his office, shall repair without the said tipstaff in
his hand, in seemly attire as the time and cause shall require, and that the arms be
set in gold and oil, at the price of 18d. sterling, each staffÖ
In June 1591 as the political situation became even more serious the assembly became very
worried about the state of the postern gates on the walls. Feeling that they might be seen
to have neglected their duty to Queen Elizabeth the assemblymen resolved that
all and every such persons that have any postern doors upon the city walls Ö shall before
Bartholomew day next, cause to be made upon the several postern gates, grates or doors
of iron such, so strong and fensible as shall be to the good contentment of Mr Mayor and
aldermen; otherwise that Mr Mayor do cause the same doors to be shut up and closed with
lime and stone, and so to remain for ever hereafter; and, in the meantime, that every
of them that hath the use of those posterns shall nightly, at nine of the clock, lock
the said posterns and bring the keys unto Mr Mayor, and there to remain to six of the
clock in the morning.
An inventory of the arms and munitions carried out early in 1594 showed that the city was
ill-protected in the event of an attack. The situation deteriorated to the extent in 1596
that the archbishop, Adam Loftus, ordered the people in the Liberty of St Sepulchre,
outside the walls, to join the watch. In October 1597 the night watch was intensified both
in the city and the suburbs. Guarding the suburbs became a major problem. As the situation
worsened the assembly decided in 1598 that two men should be on guard at each of the
city gates by day and two others by night. If any alarm should happen in the suburbs
the wicket of the gate was to be opened to let in the women and children but no men were
to be admitted. They were expected to remain outside to strengthen the suburbs. It was
decided that the six city gates must be locked by named aldermen at six oíclock each evening
in October and at five in November and all the gate keys must be brought immediately
to the mayor. During the following months the regulations were tightened still further
and more men were recruited to guard the city by night. Additional detailed regulations
made in May 1600 included arrangements to monitor Irishmen lodging within the city and
to prevent cattle-stealing in the suburbs. The night-watch was relaxed somewhat in March
1601 but was re-established in the following October for the winter of 1601-2. The walls
of Dublin had stood firm by night and by day for eight years but the ordinary citizens
must have suffered greatly as a result of these severe restrictions.
When the next really serious threat of attack occurred in 1641 the walls of Dublin were
in no condition to withstand an attack. In any event the city had, by then, expanded
well beyond the medieval walls but, as it happened, the principal threat came from conspirators
who were already in the city. One of these, Owen OíConnolly, who went on to betray his
colleagues, made a deposition in which he described a visit to a tavern in Winetavern
Street at ten at night. He described the night as being very dark as he escaped from his
companions. This suggests that by ten oíclock the lighting even in one of the main streets
was inadequate.
As might have been expected jail breaks often took place at night. In terms of national
history probably the most famous escape occurred in 1591 when Hugh OíDonnell, with some companions,
left Dublin Castle and sought refuge in the Wicklow Hills. Somewhat less celebrated as
a historical event, but perhaps more newsworthy among contemporary Dubliners, was the escape
of Richard Nugent, Baron Delvin, in 1607. Nugent was a popular young member of the Anglo-Irish
community who had been accused of high treason, and, despite special precautions, he managed
to escape over the wall of Dublin Castle on the night of 21 November by means of a rope
thirty or thirty-five yards long and to reach safety in County Cavan. In one of his letters
Sir Arthur Chichester, then Deputy, said that such escapes from the Castle had often occurred
in the past, although it was the first time that he, himself, had experienced such an
event. Nugent later surrendered and was received back into favour. What really upset the city
assembly was that Nugent had been aided and abetted by a man called Ralph Mylles, a freeman
of the city. However, apart from letting their feelings be known, the only sanction the city
fathers could employ was to deprive Mylles and his posterity of the privileges of freemen
for ever.
An escape of a different kind was effected by Rory OíMore on 23 October 1641. Following
their betrayal on the previous night, Conor Maguire, baron of Enniskillen, Colonel Hugh
MacMahon and about thirty other members of the conspiracy to seize Dublin Castle, were
arrested. Another conspirator, Rory OíMore, fled to Islandbridge by boat and then proceeded
up the Liffey to the relative safety of his wifeís family home at Lucan during the following
night.
Two of the most dramatic events which occurred during the seventeenth century were associated
with St Audoenís steeple. The first of these occurred in 1647 when watchers on the steeple
witnessed more than 200 fires to the north in Fingal, while Eoghan Rua OíNeill was attempting
to destroy the Pale. The second was the collapse of the spire during a fierce storm in February
1668, causing considerable damage to the medieval church. But perhaps the best-known nocturnal
incident in Dublin during the early modern period took place on 1 July 1690 following
the Battle of the Boyne. When King James II arrived in the city late at night his reported
conversations with Lady Tyrconnell and others ensured that his memory would survive not
just in rural folklore but in that of the city itself. We shall probably never know
if these conversations really took place.
There were other pleasanter aspects to life after dark in Dublin. The mayors and lords
mayor were expected to entertain lavishly and were compensated for so doing. Stanihurst
described the mayoralty of Patrick Sarsfield, who held office in the year 1554-5 as follows;
Over this he did at the same time protest with oath, that he spent that year in housekeeping
twenty tuns of claret wine, over and above white wine, sack, malmsbury, muscadel, etc.
And in very deed it was not to be marvelled; for during his Mayoralty his house was so
open as commonly from five of the clock in the morning to ten at night, his buttery and
cellars were with one crew or other frequented.
More than a century later the city assembly was still entertaining lavishly. When the
new Tholsel building was completed in 1683 the assembly gave an entertainment in the
form of a banquet for the Duke of Ormond, which probably extended into the night as,
among the large number of items supplied for the event, were one dozen large candles. The
whole affair cost £241-18-3, which is put into perspective when on realises that the
remuneration paid to the ten city musicians in 1685 totalled £20. It is interesting to
discover that compensation was paid to suppliers for ëa silver spooní and ësome pewter dishes
and other thingsí lost during the event. But expenses did not end there. There was
a follow-up treat at the tavern, when the committee met there for ëcalling in the bills
and adjusting the accountsí, which cost the city more money.
One of the leisure activities most associated with Dublin today is the theatre. Rather surprisingly,
in the seventeenth century, plays were generally performed in the afternoon, possibly due to
the perceived dangers of the Dublin streets before the introduction of public street lighting.
However, towards the beginning of the eighteenth century the combination of better lighting
and a great increase in the number of coaches for hire made it possible to start performances
somewhat later. Music, on the other hand, was often performed at night. A band of musicians
was employed by the assembly and their conditions of service specified that they must perform
at night as well as during the day. In 1669, for example, the assembly ordered that the
musicians ëdo go in and through the city and suburbs with the city waits every usual
night, from the fifth of October to the fifth day of February, yearlyí. Another indoor
activity which was popular with a certain section of the population was the book auction.
Thanks to the efforts of John Dunton in documenting the auctions he held in Dublin in 1698 we
know a little about these events. While they began at three in the afternoon they went
on for several hours, ending well after dark in winter.
During the early modern period there were many more public holidays than there are today.
People worked long hours on working days but made the most of the public holidays when
they could. The distinction between working days and public or religious holidays may
have meant more than the distinction between working hours and evening leisure time on
an ordinary working day. While making depositions following the 1641 Rising a number of people
spoke about early morning visits to taverns in Cook Street and Castle Street on All Saintsí
Day. Much earlier in the century Barnaby Riche wrote a diatribe against ale-house and tavern-keepers,
especially women, who served wine, beer and ale during the forenoon on Sundays. The city
assembly took a poor view of the debauchery that was believed to exist in taverns in which
women were managers or employees and, from time to time, took action against them. However,
there seems to be little evidence that taverns were more dangerous at night than during the
day.
While many of the fun activities of the period, such as pageants, dramas, musters and outings,
took place during daylight, others took place at night. Fireworks displays and bonfires,
despite their obvious dangers, were very popular. In 1584 Thomas Fitzsimons, alderman, was paid
ëfor one hundred pounds of powder expended on Midsummerís nightí. The butchers were
expected to keep lights in the Fleshambles on Midsummerís Eve and the fishmongers had
a similar duty on St Peterís Eve, and both groups were reprimanded in 1563 for failing
to do so. These ëlightsí, as they were called, were probably bonfires. In a later example,
a London source reported that the citizens of Dublin celebrated the birth of Henry Cromwellís
son in their city on 19 April 1656 by ëseveral bonfires throughout the cityí. Some days
later there were further celebrations when the child was baptised in Christ Church. The
same source reported that
the day being thus spent, as if that time had been too short to express the greatness
of their joy, the good people began their nocturnal mirth, making such piles in all
the streets, that, when fired, the whole city seemed as one bonfire.
It was rather surprising to discover that the man who made the fireworks for the night
show at the time of the installation of Henry Cromwell as lord deputy in 1657, was a goldsmith,
Edward Harris. He received a payment of ten pounds for the display. We know from the city
records and the treasurerís accounts that he continued to provide fireworks on a fairly
regular basis to mark state occasions such as the anniversary of the kingís restoration
and the arrival of a new lord deputy to the city. In 1665 Harris was appointed city marshal,
a post which he held until 1683. He continued to work as a goldsmith and carried out the
task of repairing and gilding the great mace of the city in 1685. He served as warden of
the Guild of Goldsmiths in 1659, 1660 and 1662 and as master of the guild in 1663 and
again in 1683. He provided fireworks as late as 1686 during the reign of James II. Was
he, perhaps, responsible for the accident described as follows in the Treasurerís Accounts
for the year ended Michaelmas 1686?
Paid Thomas Graves for the repair of a house at the Castle gate the sum of
forty-six shillings, Ö the said house was broken and the windows
shattered when the fireworks were made in Castle Street £2-6-0
The year 1686 seems to have been the last during which Harris made the fireworks. He
died in or before 1689 as his will was proved in that year. He had, undoubtedly, given a
great deal of pleasure to his fellow-citizens during his lifetime, having made fireworks
during the Cromwellian period and in the reigns of Charles II and James II.
Following the victories of the Williamite army the citizens of Dublin felt able to relax
once again. The anniversary of the 1641 Rising was celebrated with great solemnity and ëthe
day was ended with ringing of bells, bonfires, and other demonstrations of public joy.í
Less than a fortnight later there was an even more elaborate night-time celebration described
as follows:
His majesty's birthday (4th November, 1690) was observed here with all the splendour this
city could afford. In the evening there was a very fine firework before the lords justicesí
house, on College Green, during which a hogshead of claret, set out in the street by order
of the lords justices, was by the people drunk out in their majestiesí healths. Most of
the nobility and gentry in and about the city were invited by the lords justices to a splendid
entertainment and banquet, and the day ended with ringing of bells, bonfires in all parts
of the city, and all other demonstrations of public joy. The next day, being the anniversary
of the Popish powder-plot Ö the great guns were discharged at the same time (as they
were the day before), and that the common people might share in the satisfaction of
this day, the lords justices ordered an ox to be roasted whole which, with a hogshead
of strong beer, was given among them; and at night the public joy was expressed by bonfires,
with all other demonstrations of it becoming the occasion.
In 1692 a Mr Swan (probably the goldsmith, David Swan) was paid £11-10-0 for fireworks
but at this period municipal fireworks had either become less frequent or were included
in the accounts with other expenses.
Finally, I would like to return to the story of the priest with which I began this talk.
Born in Shankill or Delgany in the year 1589 and named Christopher, he was the son of a
Baldoyle father, the lawyer George Archbold, and a Skerries mother, a member of the Hussey
family. Following his fatherís early death he was cared for by his maternal uncle, Father
James Hussey. As a teenager he left Ireland with his cousins, Luke Bathe and Humphrey
Warren of Drumcondra, for Douai, where he was educated. Like his cousins, he joined
the Capuchin order and was ordained under the name of Father Nicholas. He returned to
Dublin in 1625 and eventually took charge of the friary in that city. He has left us
wonderful accounts, largely unpublished, of many of the events which took place in Dublin
and its surroundings in the 1620s, 1630s and early 1640s. Following the outbreak of the
Rising of 1641 life became very difficult for the members of religious orders in the
city and many of them were forced to leave. Father Nicholasís own narrative of the happenings
on one night early in 1642 was written down only a year or so after the events which he
so vividly described. He wrote:
One certain night about midnight there came about half a dozen unruly Protestants armed,
and would have broken the door but that they were let in by the goodman of the house; they
made up directly to our quarter, and struck strongly. Br[other] Simon, being in his habit,
gets up out of his bed, and opens the door to them. At his sight they were astonished:
and began to fume out. ëWhat Divel have we here?í one said. ëShall I run him through?í
The other, ëShall I shoot him?í The one had his sword naked, the other a musket, and
doubtless they had done some mischief, but that the goodman of the house, being constable,
and an other audacious man by him, dissuaded them from violence.
One taketh Brother Simon by the cord, his girdle, and pulled him down the stairs to
the great door to deliver him up to the Court of Guard that watched at the Bridge gate,
and said that he carried about him his cord to hang him. But being reproved by the constable,
who entered in bonds for them, they spared to do any other hurt, only they snatched away
some cloaks and hats and some such other things.
During the noise beneath, Father Nicholas who lay in a higher room, esteeming that doubtless
they would mount up, threw on his clothes in haste, went out the window of his chamber,
and from the leads of a house adjoining leaped down into a backside, paved with stone, the
night was extreme dark, it being in dead of winter and not as much as a star appearing,
a man could not see his own hand from him, the height of the leap was terrible to any
man that beheld it. As God would, the leaper received no hurt but a little rasing in one
of his thighs by a table frame that lay under on the ground.
This he attempted, not dreaming that the place was half so high as it was and he brooked
not by any means to be put in prison, by cause that, in that plight, he could do no good
to the distressed Catholics; yet Brother Simon being afterwards taken in our house at home
by one, Captain Hipsley, and led away, Father Nicholas occurring unto them voluntarily in
the street, joined himself companion, and were both led and laid in prison, yet favourably
dismissed by the Captain, but with promise that they should appear whensoever he sent
for them: wherein they failed not an hour.
Finally being delivered into the Lord Lamberts hands, the governor of the city; they were,
after a weeks imprisonment, by order of the Protestant state, embarked for France, with
other priests and religious, to the number of twenty Ö
The ship left Dublin for La Rochelle on Pentecost Sunday, 29 May 1642, but, before the priests
departed, a kinsman of the narrator, Alderman Carbery of Dublin and Donabate, supplied the
party with what Father Nicholas described as ëvictuals for sea, in abundance, and great
earthen jugs of burnt sack and claretí, which, no doubt, during the dark nights on board
and in exile, were of some consolation to the party and reminded them of similar nights
in their beloved Dublin.
Archbold added an interesting postscript to the story:
Our residence was rifled: and our books taken away by Captain Hipsley, a ministerís son.
The first two days he took no notice of the place wherein we put them and had never come
to the knowledge of them, but that we were betrayed, as he told us, by one who revealed
the matter unto him; one who doubtless, seeing the house before, took notice of our BibliothËque.
In this beautiful library it is, perhaps, appropriate to conclude with the question:
ëDoes anyone know what happened to these books?í