Tag Archives: Dublin

In the Gallery


‘Over the Supper Room is the Picture Gallery, of the same dimensions, containing many fine Paintings by the first masters, with other great Ornaments, chosen and displayed with great elegance; the Ceiling is arched, and highly enriched and painted, from designs by Mr WYATT. The most distinguished Pictures are, a Student drawing from a Bust by REMBRANDT; the Rape of Europa by CLAUDE LORRAINE; the Triumph of Amphitrite, by LUCCA GIORDANO; two capital pictures of Rubens and his two Wives, by VAN DYCK; Dogs killing a Stag; a fine Picture of Saint Catharine; a Landscape by Barratt; with many others. In a bow in the middle of one side, is a marble Statue, an Adonis, executed by PONCET; a fine bust of Niobe, and of Apollo, are placed on each side. In the Windows of the Bow, are some specimens of modern stained Glass, by Jervis.’
James Malton, c.1795





Today occupied by Dáil Éireann and Seanad Éireann (the two houses of Ireland’s parliament), Leinster House was originally commissioned in 1745 by James FitzGerald, 20th Earl of Kildare, and future first Duke of Leinster, as his Dublin townhouse, the largest and grandest such residence built in the city during the 18th century. Designed by Richard Castle, the house was intended to hold a picture gallery on the first floor, but this work was not undertaken before the architect’s death in 1751 and towards the end of that decade a second proposal for the room was produced by Isaac Ware. Based on a scheme published by Ware in Designs of Inigo Jones and others (1731), this was likewise unexecuted. The gallery remained an empty shell until 1775 when the second Duke of Leinster commissioned fresh designs from James Wyatt, and these are what can still be seen today. In that year, the duke married Emilia Olivia St George, only daughter and heiress of Usher St George, first Baron St George. The new duchess brought a substantial art collection with her, and the need to have a space in which these could be shown to best advantage gave a certain urgency to the matter. As executed, Wyatt’s proposals included inserting additional windows into the north side of an existing bow window (above which is a shallow half-dome) and dividing the shallow elliptical vault into three sections, all of which are decorated with elaborate neo-classical plasterwork. As described by Professor Christine Casey, the ceiling’s centre holds a chamfered octagon within a square and at each end a diaper within a square, each flanked by broad figurative lunette panels at the base of the coving and bracketed by husk garlands and garlands of leafy ovals. Between are ribs with attenuated tripods, urns and arabesque finials.’ The scheme’s coherence is illustrated by the inclusion of a pair of white marble chimneypieces with high-relief female figures on the uprights and putti marking the division between beaded spandrels enclosing urns and griffins, and then similar motifs being employed in pewter and gesso on the doors.





Following the Act of Union in 1800 and the death of the second duke four years later, Leinster House was scarcely used by the family and so in 1815 the third duke sold the property to the Dublin Society (later Royal Dublin Society). Many of the picture gallery’s contents were moved to the family’s country house, Carton House, County Kildare where alterations to accommodate the collection were made by Richard Morrison; many of the artworks were subsequently sold as the fortunes of the FitzGerald family declined in the last century. Meanwhile, the Dublin Society converted the room in which they were once displayed into a library, Francis Johnston inserting a gallery above the line of the window heads, although this was removed in the late 19th century. Following the establishment of the Irish Free State in 1922, the Dail was housed – temporarily, it was thought – in the RDS’s lecture theatre, a large hall which had been completed a quarter century earlier. In 1924, the society sold the entire property to the government for £68,000 and moved permanently to the site it still occupies in Ballsbridge. Leinster House’s former picture gallery was then adapted with virtually no structural alterations to accommodate the Seanad, which it has continued to do ever since.


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The Irish Sale of the Century



From the mid-1970s through to the early 1980s a series of country house contents auctions took place in Ireland, beginning with that held at Malahide Castle in May 1976. One of the last during that particular spate took place at Luttrellstown, County Dublin in September 1983. Luttrellstown has featured here before (see Luttrellstown Castle « The Irish Aesthete). The estate here dates back to c.1210 when it had been granted by King John to Sir Geoffrey de Luterel. Two centuries later the original castle was constructed and remained in the hands of the Luttrells until 1800 when sold to Luke White, who had made his fortune operating a lottery. White and his descendants were responsible for giving the house much of its external appearance as a frothy Gothick fancy, and they continued to occupy it until the early 1920s when it was once more put on the market. In November 1927 Aileen Guinness married the Hon Brinsley Plunket and as a wedding present her father Ernest Guinness presented the bride with  Luttrellstown Castle.





During the 14 years of their marriage, the Plunkets entertained extensively at Luttrellstown. However, following their divorce in 1940, the property’s chatelaine moved to the United States, only returning to this side of the Atlantic after the conclusion of the Second World War. Then, following her father’s death in March 1949, she embarked on a thorough restoration and transformation of the castle. In this enterprise, she was assisted by English architect and interior designer Felix Harbord, who also worked with Aileen Plunket’s sister, Maureen, Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava, at Clandeboye, County Down. At Luttrellstown, Harbord appears to have perfectly understood his client’s fondness for the dramatic and for unexpected juxtapositions. Hence the interiors were filled with treasures that had come from a diverse range of sources. The white marble chimneypiece in the ballroom, likely the work of Sir Henry Cheere, came from England, as did the painted ceiling by Thornhill installed in the staircase hall. The dining room was given Adamesque plasterwork and a ceiling by 18th century artist Jacob de Wit, and the Grisaille Room created to hold a series of nine panels by the Flemish painter Peter de Gree, originally made in 1788 for the Oriel Temple, County Louth. In this setting, Luttrellstown’s owner entertained frequently and lavishly. As late as 1966, when many other Irish houses had been forced to cut back on hospitality, Mark Bence-Jones could report, ‘Mrs Plunket entertains in the grand manner, giving large dinner parties, dances and balls; she invites people from all walks of life in Ireland together with many friends from abroad.’ He also noted that ‘what seems like an army of footmen, something very rare in Ireland, adds to the splendour.’





In 1983, Aileen Plunket, by then aged 79, decided to sell both Luttrellstown Castle and its contents: the latter were dispersed in a three-day auction held that September by Christie’s. Described by the late Desmond FitzGerald, Knight of Glin as the Irish Sale of the Century, the event attracted considerable publicity, and many overseas buyers,  eager to see what bargains might be found. In the event, there were no bargains as many lots went for much higher sums than their estimates. On the first day, for example, a pair of George II white painted side tables, expected to fetch £25-38,000, eventually went for £110,000. A pair of Italian gilt-bronze and crystal candelabra made £65,000, more than six times their estimate, while a mid-18th century giltwood stool fetched £28,000, more than nine times the estimate. A rare Russian tapestry carpet made for Tsar Nicholas I in 1835 went for £75,000 which was double its estimate: seemingly the underbidder on this lot was David Rockefeller. On the other hand, a suite of painted Louis XV furniture which may – or may not – have been made for the Château de Maintenon, failed to make the expected £170,000, selling for £134,000. On the second day of the auction, the focus was on paintings such as a set of four hunting scenes by Jacob van Strij (£69,120), The Mystic Marriage by Jan Brueghel II (£30,240)  and a portrait of Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth by Henri Gascars which fetched £27,000: Aileen Plunket had bought the picture eight years earlier at the Malahide Castle sale for £9,500. On the third day, books, porcelain, glass and so forth. With approximately one third of the buyers being Irish and the rest of the bidders coming from overseas, in total, the auction made a sum just shy of £3 million. Soon afterwards it was announced that the castle and 570 acre demesne had been sold for just over £3 million. Aileen Plunket then moved to England where she lived until her death in 1999. As for Luttrellstown Castle, it has since become a wedding and events venue (a certain well-known English former footballer and his wife were married there in 1999). 


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Taken to Court



After Monday’s exploration of Kilmainham Gaol, here is its immediate neighbour, the neo-classical ‘Sessions House’ designed by William Farrell and opened in 1820. Faced in granite, the main entrance is of two storeys and has a pedimented three-bay breakfront with arched windows on the first floor. Below, the rusticated ground floor has blind doors flanking the entrance, while on either side are single-bay outer bays with tripartite windows on the first-floor and blind equivalents below them. Inside the building, the rear section is given over to a double-height, galleried courtroom with Diocletian window above the judge’s bench. To the front is a similarly double-height entrance hall lit by the aforementioned three arched windows on the facade. 


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Lasciate Ogne Speranza, Voi Ch’intrate



One of the most visited sites in Dublin, Kilmainham Gaol is today primarily known for being the place where in May 1916 fourteen key figures in the Easter Rising were executed by firing squad. Yet this was only one incident in the building’s history, which goes back to the late 18th century when ideas of prison reform and the provision of better accommodation for convicted criminals led to the construction of the gaol in Kilmainham. It replaced an earlier prison a little further to the east in an area called Mount Brown: a parliamentary report on this premises in 1782 noted that not only was the building ‘extremely insecure, and in an unwholesome bad situation with narrow cells sunk underground, with no hospital’ but in addition, ‘Spirits and all sorts of liquors were constantly served to the prisoners who were in a continual state of intoxication.’ The ‘New Gaol’ as it was initially known, was intended to improve conditions for prisoners, with single cells and the opportunity of exercise in open yards. 





As opened in 1796, Kilmainham Gaol was designed by Sir John Trail, an engineer thought to have come to this country from Scotland and employed first by Dublin Corporation and then by the Grand Canal Company to work on the completion of this project and bring fresh water to the city. Although dismissed in 1777 after the standard of work on the project was found to be defective and the expenditure to have exceeded estimates (a not-unfamiliar tale in Ireland), Trail continued to flourish and, as engineer to the Revenue Commissioners, was responsible for designing twin octagonal lighthouses on Wicklow Head in 1781. The following year he was appointed high sheriff of Co Dublin and later knighted. In 1787, he was given the task of coming up with the design for a new gaol, which by the time of its completion almost a decade later, had cost the Grand Jury of County Dublin some £22,000. At the time, both the gaol and its surroundings looked very different from the way they do today. Built on a rise above the river Liffey known as Gallows Hill, it was then surrounded by open fields, the intention being that fresh air would be able to circulate through the prison. As first constructed, the building looked somewhat different from what can be seen today. Facing north, Trail’s facade was centred on a three-bay breakfront with long wings running back on either side to create a U-shaped prison. Each of the wings held cells while the main block was used by the gaolers. Enclosed behind high stone walls, a series of yards to the rear were used for exercise or various activities. The main entrance was at the front, incorporating vermiculated stone work and a number of writhing forms: what precisely they represent – snakes? dragons? a hydra? – and who was responsible for this carving remains unknown. Directly above it was an opening with a gallows and this was where public hangings took place: the last such event occurred in 1865. 





Within a matter of just a few decades, Kilmainham Gaol had proven to provide insufficient space for the numbers of prisoners being sent there and in 1840 a block of thirty cells was added to the west wing. However, the onset of the Great Famine led to a further rise in admissions (being in gaol which provided accommodation and food, no matter how inadequate either, was preferable to starving on the streets), and in 1857 an architectural competition was held for enlarging and remodelling the building. The eventual winner was John McCurdy, now best-remembered for having also designed the Shelbourne Hotel a few years later. At Kilmainham, McCurdy oversaw the demolition of the east wing and its replacement with a new three storey over basement, bow-ended block. Inspired by the 18th century social reformer Jeremy Bentham’s ideas for a Panopticon prison, the ninety-six cells here ran around a central glazed atrium, making it easier for warders to see what was going on while also offering a light and airy space within the prison. At the front of the building, two bow-fronted wings were added, thereby creating a courtyard: that to the east held the prison governor’s apartments, and that to the west the Stonebreakers’ Yard (which is where the 1916 executions took place). Ironically, towards the end of the 19th century, the number of criminals being jailed declined, and as a result, the official Prisons Board decided to close some gaols, including Kilmainham, which closed in 1911. Three years later, with the outbreak of the First World War, it found a new use as a military billet for new army recruits, and as a military detention centre. In the aftermath of the failed Easter Rising, as already mentioned, 14 key figures, half of whom had been signatories of the Proclamation of the Republic, were brought to Kilmainham Gaol and there executed. With the onset of the War of Independence, the buildings were once more used by the British government to house Republican prisoners and then, with the subsequent Civil War, it was likewise employed by the Free State authorities to imprison and sentence their Anti-Treaty opponents, several of whom were executed. In 1924, with the Civil War at an end, the gaol was emptied of prisoners, an official closing order being issued in 1929, after which it was left to moulder. By the 1950s, large sections of the site were in a ruinous condition but then a voluntary group, the Kilmainham Gaol Restoration Society, boldly took the initiative to rescue the building, with work beginning in 1960 and being sufficiently complete to open to the public in April 1966, marking the fiftieth anniversary of the Easter Rising. In 1986, the property was transferred to state care and has since been the responsibility of the Office of Public Works



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Often Overlooked



Often overlooked by visitors, this is the spectacular entrance hall of the National Museum of Ireland in Dublin. Designed by T.N. and T.M. Deane in 1885-90 and taking the form of a rotunda, it consists of a ground floor around which run a series of polished Ionic columns in different coloured Irish stone. The deep entablature, pierced by a sequence of oculi, supports a balustraded gallery above which pilasters with gilded capitals framing niches and, in one section, windows. And on top of this floats the dome. Meanwhile, the floor is covered in mosaic designed and laid by the Manchester firm of Ludwig Oppenheimer Ltd; the central section is taken up by the twelve signs of the Zodiac surrounding a stylised sun.



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How Dreadful is this Place



Like Drimnagh Castle, seen here on Monday, the nearby St Mary’s church would once have stood amidst woodland and fields several miles outside the city of Dublin, whereas today it is surrounded by suburban housing estates. Set inside a circular enclosure, this has been a religious site since at least the arrival of the Cambro-Normans, if not longer.  In 1193 the church was given by Prince John to form a prebend in the St Patrick’s collegiate church (later Cathedral) and afterwards vested in the Archbishop of Dublin. The English engraver Francis Jukes produced a view of the area in 1795 which shows the church’s tower which still survives, but the main body of the building was reconstructed in 1817 with a loan of £1,000 from the Board of First Fruits. A new Church of Ireland church was built close by in the last century, but this one continues to be used for services by a religious organisation called the Hope Centre. The entrance at the base of the tower has a fine cut limestone doorcase with broken pediment beneath which is a plaque with a quotation from the Book of Genesis ‘How Dreadful is this Place, none other is the House of God, and this is the Gate of Heaven.’ Above it is a solitary skull; seemingly there were also crossbones but these went missing in the 1990s.


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Showing What Can be Done


Forty years ago, in 1985, the artist and architectural historian Peter Pearson got in touch with the Congregation of Christian Brothers, a religious order which had come to own Drimnagh Castle, once surrounded by forest but by then almost lost in Dublin suburban housing. In John D’Alton’s History of the County of Dublin (1838), the building is described as occupying ‘a spot of much romantic beauty, overlooking at the east the city and bay, and at north, the Park, Castleknock and Clondalkin, while towards the south the view is bounded by the mountains of the county of Dublin, presenting a dark and solemn aspect, congenial to the decaying splendour of the edifice.’ Alas, the same romantic views are no longer to be found today. The building’s history dates back to 1215 when the lands of Drimnagh and Terenure were granted by King John to Hugh de Berneval and when the latter died without issue, these grants were passed to his brother Reginald, whose descendants, their name eventually becoming Barnewall, came to be one of the most significant families in this part of the country: Raymond Barnewall, 21st Baron Trimlestown died last year and, having no known heirs, so ended one of the oldest Irish titles, dating back to 1461 (see Fallen Out of Use « The Irish Aesthete). The Barnewalls remained in the castle until the first decade of the 17th century when Elizabeth Barnewall, heiress to the property, married a cousin, James Barnewall of Bremore (see A Work in Progress « The Irish Aesthete) after which Drimnagh was let on a 99-year least to Sir Adam Loftus, nephew and namesake of the Archbishop of Dublin who had been responsible for building Rathfarnham Castle just a few miles to the south-east (see A Whiter Shade of Pale « The Irish Aesthete). A century later, however, Drimnagh Castle – like Bremore Castle – was sold to Henry Perry, Earl of Shelburne and so passed into the ownership of the Marquesses of Lansdowne. Both buildings were let to a succession of tenants, in the case of Drimnagh Castle until 1904 when it was bought by a successful dairy farmer and Dublin City councillor, Joseph Hatch. He undertook considerable restoration work on the property, used by his family as a summer residence until the 1950s when it passed into the possession of the Christian Brothers. While the order initially used the castle as a school, they subsequently moved into a purpose-built establishment on the land. As a result, the old building was left unoccupied (except for a collection of fowl kept there by one member of the religious community) and gradually fell into disrepair. Its future looked uncertain and, like so many other old properties in the greater Dublin region, Drimagh Castle might have been lost had not Peter Pearson intervened. 






The evolution of Drimnagh Castle from its origins into what can be seen today is complicated and, on more than one occasion, unclear. As was so often the case, the building likely began as a wooden structure, this in due course replaced by stone. The oldest part of the castle is a stocky keep access to which is through a single, low Gothic door on the east side with a typical murder hole directly above. This entrance leads to an undercroft, notable for retaining reedmarks on its vaulted ceiling; analysis of these might be able to confirm a date for when the keep was constructed. In the 18th century, this space was converted into a kitchen, with the insertion of a number of ovens and a large open fireplace. Stone steps at the north and south ends of the undercroft lead to the great hall immediately above. To the immediate north and rising one storey higher, the tower and gatehouse are thought to have been added in the 16th century. Further substantial changes occurred during the 18th century when many of the building’s windows were made larger so as to bring more light into the rooms. On the east side an external stone staircase was added giving direct access to the great hall through a cut-limestone doorcase. It may be that the moat, a parallelogram and something of a rarity among surviving Irish castles, similarly dates from the 18th century when the property was responsible for a number of mills in the area, their mechanism driven by the water which then fed into the river Camac. In one corner of the grounds is a little square battlemented folly, again likely an addition from the Georgian period: its west face overlooking the moat incorporates a late medieval window and later granite doorcase with arched light above, both of which appear to have come from elsewhere. When the Hatches took over the castle in the early 1900s, they made further changes to the buildings, not least inserting brick pediments above many windows and doors, as well as taking out many of the 18th century sash windows. They also converted a 17th century barn into a set of stables and rebuilt the coach house on the opposite side of the rear courtyard, giving its roofline the same curved gables seen on the castle roofline.






When Peter Pearson first approached the Christian Brothers 40 years ago about undertaking work on Drimnagh Castle, the building was in a pitiful state and looked unlikely to have any viable future. Nevertheless, thanks to a grant of £3,000 from Dublin Corporation and assisted by a number of state and charitable agencies as well as a voluntary local committee, work began on the site in 1986. Writing in the Irish Arts Review three years ago, Pearson has described what followed as employing the Italian concept of restauro: ‘which implies both conservation of existing structure and appropriate replacement of elements beyond repair. It implies an artistic rather than a moralistic approach to giving old buildings new life and it means that there has to be an element of compromise if historic buildings are to live on with new uses.’ It is unlikely that were such a project to be initiated today that such an approach would necessarily be permitted, but had it not been adopted at the time, then most probably Drimnagh Castle would no longer stand today. Inevitably, compromise meant not all features of the building’s history could be represented. The best example of this is the great hall which, in the 18th century, had been split into two reception rooms reached via a panelled staircase. The inevitable question arose: ought this later intervention be retained or should the space be returned to what was believed to have been its original appearance? The latter option was chosen, but this meant a degree of conjecture since so little of the material fabric survived. What can now be seen is to a large extent new, not least the hall’s roof entirely constructed of green Irish oak and assembled on site by trainee carpenters. The same was true of the carved gallery running around the upper level of the gallery; here can be admired portrait effigies of many of those involved in the enterprise (including Pearson) which serve as trusses for the roof. The floor is covered in tiles made for the space and based on original medieval tiles found at Swords Castle, County Dublin (see Palatial « The Irish Aesthete), while the window glass was all made for the hall. Outside, in what had been an empty, neglected area of ground at the back of the site, a formal garden with parterres of box was laid out. Today on lease from the religious order and still dependent on voluntary support for its daily maintenance, Drimnagh Castle is an outstanding example of what can be achieved by persistence, dedication and imagination. As so often, much remains to be done around the building and its grounds, but 40 years after Peter Pearson first proposed the property’s rescue, it continues to deserve accolades and amply repays a visit. 

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Behind a Modest Facade


Like many 18th century residential buildings in central Dublin, the facade of Ely House is extremely plain, of red brick with only the pedimented stone fan- and side-lit doorcase offering some interest. Of four storeys-over-basement, the building had been bought in 1770 by Henry Loftus from Dublin physician and property developer Gustavus Hume. The previous year, following the death of his unmarried nephew, the hitherto somewhat impoverished Loftus had inherited a substantial estate and the title Viscount Loftus: the following year he would be created Earl of Ely. Known for his social pretensions, he would be mocked as ‘Count Loftonzo’ in the satirical History of Barataria published in the Freeman’s Journal in Spring 1771. The work he commissioned at Rathfarnham Castle, County Dublin has already been discussed here (see A Whiter Shade of Pale « The Irish Aesthete and Flying High « The Irish Aesthete). Although Loftus already owned a house in the capital on Cavendish Row, following his inheritance evidently he felt the need to cross the river Liffey and occupy a new property, hence the purchase of Ely House. Unusual because of its size, the building was originally of six bays, a seventh being acquired on the left-hand (north) side in the 19th century around the time the house was divided into two properties: today it is near-impossible to photograph the entire exterior of the house without being assaulted by traffic: hence the somewhat truncated image here. When first occupied, the attic floor seemingly contained a private, sixty-seat theatre with space for an orchestra. The Freeman’s Journal of 19th April 1785 reports on the performance of both a tragedy (‘The Distressed Mother’) and a comedy (‘All the World’s a Stage’), both acted by friends of the earl’s second and much-younger wife, Anne Bonfoy. Sadly, nothing of this theatre now survives. But other parts of the remarkable interior remain to be explored. 





The rear of Ely House’s groundfloor is given over to the double-height stair hall, the steps of which are of Portland Stone, while the panelled balustrade is made of wrought iron and carved gilt-wood. At the base can be seen a life-size figure of Hercules, resting from his Labours. The latter are then depicted as one ascends the staircase, although not in the correct narrative order: shown here is the eagle killed with an arrow by the mythical hero. The inspiration for this work is believed to have been a substantially larger staircase in the Palace of Charles of Lorraine in Brussels – now a museum – created by the Flemish sculptor Laurent Delvaux in 1769. The stuccodore Barthelemy Cremillion, who had been employed in Ireland in the second half of the 1750s, was responsible for the Brussels palace plasterwork and is therefore thought to have been behind the similar scheme in Ely House since by this date he had returned to Dublin. On the other hand, Professor Christine Casey has pointed out that the stoneyard of sculptor John van Nost adjoined Lord Ely’s property and that both he and Cremillion had worked at the same time on the decoration of the city’s Lying-in Hospital (otherwise known as the Rotunda Hospital), so he may also have been involved here. 




Many of the reception rooms in Ely House, Dublin, are rather plain, although it retains some splendid chimneypieces again thought to have been the work of John van Nost. One of the ground floor reception rooms features a series of figurative ovals and roundels depicting a variety of scenes and surrounded by pendants and swirls that look like strings of pearls. It used to be judged that this plasterwork was part of the house’s 18th century decoration but more recently the scheme is considered to date from the late 19th/early 20th century when the building was occupied by the wealthy surgeon and collector Sir Thornley Stoker (incidentally, the elder brother of Bram Stoker, author of Dracula): he lived here from 1890 to 1911 and filled the building with his valuable collection of art and furniture, alas all auctioned before his death in 1912. The room directly above certainly suggests a relatively recent vintage, the figures here looking as though they had stepped out of the work of an Edwardian illustrator like Kate Greenaway. Since 1923, Ely House has been owned by the Knights of St Columbanus, an Irish Roman Catholic society which uses the building as its national headquarters. 

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Astonished at the Splendour


The former House of Lords in what is now the Bank of Ireland, College Green, Dublin was discussed here some time ago (see Where Turkeys Voted for Christmas « The Irish Aesthete). As is well known, after the building ceased to be used as the Irish Houses of Parliament and had been purchased by the bank, Francis Johnston was invited to make alterations, including the creation of a central Cash Office behind Edward Lovett Pearce’s south front. This five bay, double-height space rises to a richly decorated coved ceiling, the centre of which supports a clerestory concluding in a coffered ceiling. When George IV visited the bank during his visit to Ireland, he was reportedly ‘astonished at the splendour’ of the hall.

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A Most Singular Act of Architectural Vandalism



After last month’s post about the Museum Building in Trinity College Dublin (see A Remarkable Building « The Irish Aesthete), here is another property designed by the same architectural team of Deane & Woodward. Dating from 1859-61, the former Kildare Street Club replaced a number of other buildings on the same site. The club was founded in 1782, when William Burton Conyngham (1733–96), having been blackballed by Daly’s Club in Dame Street, established a rival organisation at 6 Kildare Street. By the middle of the following century, and although the club had taken on adjacent premises, the members felt the need for further expansion and therefore commissioned Deane & Woodward to come up with an entirely fresh scheme. Unlike the typical London clubhouse, which was inclined to be designed in the style of a classical Italianate palazzo, the Kildare Street Club is more Italo-Byzantine in manner, the red brick facade relieved by large window openings and abundant use of grey and white stone. The grand interior had a double-height staircase hall, and equally capacious reception rooms, as well as a racquet court with dressing rooms, smaller games rooms and, in the attic storey, members’ bedrooms. 



In what Professor Christine Casey has rightly described as ‘the most singular act of architectural vandalism in recent Dublin history’ (although this title could be keenly contested), the interior of the Kildare Street Club was ruthlessly gutted in 1971, after its members had moved out of the premises prior to joining forces with another club. Thereafter a development company applied to convert the building into offices, and received permission from the local authority to do so. While certain features remain in situ, such as some of the chimneypieces and cornicing, the rooms today bear little resemblance to their original state. The exterior, on the other hand, still looks much as it always did, and includes a series of densely carved columnar capitals and bases, the work here attributed to the Cork-born O’Shea brothers, as well as Charles Harrison and Charles William Purdy: one of the bases famously represents a number of monkeys engaged in a game of billiards. Today the former club houses both the Alliance française and the manuscripts department of the National Library of Ireland.



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