The former Good Shepherd Convent is now home to Limerick School of Art and Design (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Patrick Comerford
Some weeks ago, while I was researching the different and sad stories of the Comerford families that lived in Limerick, I came across the stories of Sister Mary Comerford and Sister Catherine (‘Kate’) Comerford, both born in Queen’s County (Co Laois), who were nuns living in the Good Shepherd Convent, Clare Street, Limerick in 1901 and 1911.
The Good Shepherd Convent became known as one of the ‘Mother and Baby’ homes or ‘Magdalene Laundries.’ When Sister Catherine died at the age of 40 on 13 November 1921, it was noted that she was originally from Clonegal, Co Carlow.
While Sister Catherine and Sister Mary are buried in the nuns’ plot in Mount Saint Lawrence Cemetery in Limerick, another woman buried there is Bridget Comerford who died at the age of 56 in 1958. The difference is that Bridget was one of the 243 inmates of the Good Shepherd Laundry who was buried in an unmarked grave.
A former inmate petitioned the Sisters of the Good Shepherd in Cork to list the names of the women who had been buried in Limerick in unmarked graves. The nuns agreed and 11 plaques were erected in Mount Saint Lawrence Cemetery in remembrance of the 243 known women who died without recognition. Bridget Comerford’s name is located on Memorial No 6.
The chimney of the former laundry behind the Good Shepherd Convent (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
The convent on Clare Street is long closed and since 1994 it has been the site of the Limerick School of Art and Design, a constituent college of Limerick Institute of Technology. The convent was built on an elevated site set back from the road. I pass it regularly on my way on the bus to and from Dublin, but until earlier this week I was unaware that this building had once been the convent I had recently learned about.
Death does not rest lightly on this site. This is said to have been the late medieval execution site of Farrancroghy outside the walls of Limerick. Clare Street originally backed onto the walls of the Irishtown and takes its name from John Fitzgibbon, 1st Earl of Clare, who was Lord Chancellor of Ireland (1789-1802). James O'Sullivan, a tobacco merchant, built the street on swampy land once used for grazing pigs, and dedicated it to Fitzgibbon.
The convent site began as the Lancastrian Schools named after Joseph Lancaster (1778-1838), the Quaker philanthropist and English school reformer. In 1808, he was instrumental in the formation of the Society for Promoting the Lancastrian System for the Education of the Poor. In Ireland, schools guided by his principles of education were founded in many places, including Wexford, Cork and Limerick. The school in Wexford gave its name to School Street where I lived in 1972-1973.
Lancaster was eventually declared a bankrupt, the society he founded expelled him and renamed itself. By the 1820s, the school he had founded in Limerick was being run by the Christian Brothers, who bought school in 1821 for £200.
In time, the site and building were in part let to Madame de Beligond, the Mother Super of the Convent of the Good Shepherd, who eventually bought the site in 1888, and established the Good Shepherd Laundry and a girls’ reformatory.
The new convent and school were probably designed by Goldie and Child, the architectural practice of George Goldie and Charles Edwin Child that also redesigned Saint Saviour’s Dominican Church on Baker Place in Limerick, and designed the tower and spire of Saint Alphonsus Redemptorist Church in Limerick.
This 13-bay three-storey former convent was built on an extensive irregular plan, distinguished by entrance breakfront, differently scaled three-bay gabled flanking breakfronts to the west, forming the former chapel, and round-arched window openings to arcaded ground floor level and attic storey above modillion eaves on north-facing principal elevation.
The buildings form two enclosed courtyards with formal gardens to the front. The convent complex is designed in a light Gothic Revival style and retains most of its exterior details and window features.
The former convent chapel was inspired by Baldassare Longhena’s Church of Santa Maria della Salute in Venice (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Beside the former convent is the striking cruciform-plan double and triple height former convent chapel, begun in 1928. It stands on an elevated site in the grounds of the former convent and is a landmark feature with its copper drum and dome and the louvred lantern above.
The design new chapel was designed in 1928 by the Dublin architect Ralph Henry Byrne (1877-1946), whose father designed the Church of the Holy Name on Beechwood Avenue, Ranelagh, which I also visited earlier this week. RH Byrne worked mainly on convents and schools throughout Ireland and I think he may have been the architect of the copper dome on the Church of Our Lady of Refuge in Rathmines after it was destroyed in a fire in 1920.
Byrne’s designs for this new convent chapel in Limerick in 1928 were inspired, to a greater or lesser degree, by Baldassare Longhena’s plans for the octagonal Church of Santa Maria della Salute on the Grand Canal in Venice (1630), although Byrne’s designs lost their way in the treatment of the elevation.
This chapel is a distinctive and formidable structure against the skyline of the surrounding area. It was attached to the Magdalene laundry building, perhaps to suggest a link between hard labour and salvation.
Ralph Henry Byrne designed the chapel, the children’s shrine, high altar, side altars and refectory, which date from 1928-1939. Ludwig Oppenheimer Ltd., designed the mosaic decoration of the columns in the chapel (1929), and the semi-domes in the side chapel (1930). The marble floor may have been the work of Vannucci and Favilla, marble masons from Pietrasanta in Tuscany, who had offices in 14 Fownes Street, Dublin, around 1930.
The former chapel is now used by the Limerick School of Art and Design as an exhibition space.
Santa Maria della Salute in Venice was designed by Baldassare Longhena as a rotunda in the shape of a crown and its dome has inspired many artists and architects (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
16 September 2017
Charles Darwin adds value
to the £10 note in my pocket
Charles Darwin looks like ‘a very venerable, acute, melancholy old dog’ on the £10 note … and is about to disappear
Patrick Comerford
I have had a habit for many years of keeping some English sterling notes in my wallet and a handful of sterling coins in my pocket. It is not that I need them in unexpected ways, but sometimes it is easier to put £10 or £20 folded into a card in an envelope than go to the bother of ordering a bank draft or writing a cheque that I know is going to be discounted heavily.
But the real reason for keeping this currency close to hand is to cope with arriving at the airport in Birmingham and Stansted, paying for my train ticket with plastic, finding I have a 15 or 20-minute wait for a train to Lichfield or Cambridge, and not having enough small change to indulge my need for an early morning double espresso.
It is embarrassing to ask to pay for a such a small pleasure with plastic – although the new £5 or £10 notes seem to indicate that everything is going to be paid for in the future with plastic in one form or another.
Perhaps holding onto these notes – I found £20 with Adam Smith and £10 with Charles Darwin – in my wallet yesterday has been an unwise investment. When he devalued the pound 50 years ago in 1967, Harold Wilson famously promised the public that the ‘pound in your pocket’ would not change value. But Brexit certainly means the few pounds in my pocket and my wallet have changed their value, and have almost dropped to parity with the Euro.
The new Jane Austen £10 note went into circulation yesterday [14 September 2017], and I joked on social media that this must be the ‘Brexit tenner – 52% Pride and Prejudice, 48% Sense and Sensibility.’
It seems to be symptomatic of the post-Brexit climate in Britain that Jane Austen should be chosen for the new plastic note. She represents a romantic hankering after a ‘green and pleasant land’ in the past that actually never existed and that is a fictional creation of English minds.
At least I should be thankful that Jane Austen was chosen as the author for the new £10 note, and not Jeffrey Archer.
But I am sorry to see Charles Darwin disappear from the £10 note. Not only is there the inconvenience of now finding and exchanging or getting rid of the few notes that are lying around the house in pockets and drawers, but I have a feeling that dropping Charles Darwin is symptomatic of the way rational discourse, argument and the search for truth has gone from public discourse in England in the wake of the Brexit referendum.
When I posted a photograph of one of those £10 notes on Facebook yesterday, with the image of Charles Darwin, another member of the Comerford family replied: ‘You look well on the tenner … I mentioned to you before about the hair and beard lines in Comerfords.’
In haste, I mentioned: ‘There is a vague link to Charles Darwin in the Comberford family … too distant to boast about, too near not to consider the resemblance.’ To which an old school friend responded: ‘The apple doesn’t fall far ...’
Charles Darwin’s portrait by Walter William Ouless in the College Hall in Christ’s College, Cambridge
When I was invited back to the Combination Room after lecturing and preaching in Christ’s College, Cambridge, I was shown where Charles Darwin’s name occurs frequently in the Combination Room wine book. As an undergraduate, Darwin originally intended to be ordained in the Church of England, and he is arguably the most famous alumnus of Christ’s College.
His portrait in the College Hall is a copy (1883) by the artist, Walter William Ouless (1848-1933), of one commissioned by the Darwin family in 1875 as a birthday present. Darwin quipped the portrait made him look like ‘a very venerable, acute, melancholy old dog.’
The Darwin family still has many connections with Cambridge, but I was also aware of the family connections with Lichfield. His grandfather, Dr Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802), lived beside the Cathedral Close from 1757, and his house, which now faces onto Beacon Street, is now an interesting museum, with beautiful gardens.
But I also thought there were some connections, albeit very distant connections, with the Comberford family. When I went in search of these connections last night, however, all I could find were very remote connections with Comberford Hall.
About 100 years ago, Comberford Hall was the home of Christopher Askew Chandos-Pole from about 1912 until about 1916. Christopher Askew Chandos Pole was the great-great-grandson of Colonel Edward Sacheverell Pole (1718-1780) and his wife Elizabeth Collier.
Edward Sacheverell Pole had fought at Fontenoy and Culloden. Within a year of his death, the widowed Elizabeth married the widowed Dr Erasmus Darwin, then 49 and already the father of a large family. They had already developed a romantic relationship in 1775, and following their marriage in 1781 Erasmus Darwin left Lichfield and Elizabeth and Erasmus Darwin lived briefly at Radbourne Hall, the 18th-century Georgian country house in Derbyshire that had been the seat of the Pole family for generations.
Elizabeth and Erasmus had seven more children, and Elizabeth was also the stepmother of his children from his first marriage. They included Robert Waring Darwin (1766-1848), who was born in Lichfield in 1766 and who grew up as a step-brother of Sacheverell Chandos-Pole.
This Sacheverell Chandos-Pole was the father of the Revd William Chandos-Pole (1833-1895), whose kinship to Robert Darwin’s son, Charles Darwin, was akin to them being first cousins.
A succession of Poles and Chandos-Poles were rectors of Radbourne, including the Revd William Chandos-Pole, who was appointed in 1866. He was married to Christina (Askew) and a year later their son, Christopher Askew Chandos-Pole, was born at Radbourne in 1871. In 1898, Christopher married Constance Marian Schwind in 1898, and they moved to Comberford Hall with their children, Christina and Peter, around 1912.
And so, as far as I could find, the connection between Charles Darwin and Comberford Hall is both remote and obscure. The rector who was the equivalent of his first cousin but who was related only through marriage was the father of a man who had lived briefly at Comberford Hall.
But it was interesting enough a connection to put that £10 note back into my wallet with a little more interest than is being offered by the banks in the wake of Brexit. To paraphrase Harold Wilson’s adage from 50 years ago, the £10 in my pocket is still of value to me.
Erasmus Darwin House on Beacon Street, Lichfield … Elizabeth Darwin’s great-grandson lived at Comberford Hall over 100 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
Patrick Comerford
I have had a habit for many years of keeping some English sterling notes in my wallet and a handful of sterling coins in my pocket. It is not that I need them in unexpected ways, but sometimes it is easier to put £10 or £20 folded into a card in an envelope than go to the bother of ordering a bank draft or writing a cheque that I know is going to be discounted heavily.
But the real reason for keeping this currency close to hand is to cope with arriving at the airport in Birmingham and Stansted, paying for my train ticket with plastic, finding I have a 15 or 20-minute wait for a train to Lichfield or Cambridge, and not having enough small change to indulge my need for an early morning double espresso.
It is embarrassing to ask to pay for a such a small pleasure with plastic – although the new £5 or £10 notes seem to indicate that everything is going to be paid for in the future with plastic in one form or another.
Perhaps holding onto these notes – I found £20 with Adam Smith and £10 with Charles Darwin – in my wallet yesterday has been an unwise investment. When he devalued the pound 50 years ago in 1967, Harold Wilson famously promised the public that the ‘pound in your pocket’ would not change value. But Brexit certainly means the few pounds in my pocket and my wallet have changed their value, and have almost dropped to parity with the Euro.
The new Jane Austen £10 note went into circulation yesterday [14 September 2017], and I joked on social media that this must be the ‘Brexit tenner – 52% Pride and Prejudice, 48% Sense and Sensibility.’
It seems to be symptomatic of the post-Brexit climate in Britain that Jane Austen should be chosen for the new plastic note. She represents a romantic hankering after a ‘green and pleasant land’ in the past that actually never existed and that is a fictional creation of English minds.
At least I should be thankful that Jane Austen was chosen as the author for the new £10 note, and not Jeffrey Archer.
But I am sorry to see Charles Darwin disappear from the £10 note. Not only is there the inconvenience of now finding and exchanging or getting rid of the few notes that are lying around the house in pockets and drawers, but I have a feeling that dropping Charles Darwin is symptomatic of the way rational discourse, argument and the search for truth has gone from public discourse in England in the wake of the Brexit referendum.
When I posted a photograph of one of those £10 notes on Facebook yesterday, with the image of Charles Darwin, another member of the Comerford family replied: ‘You look well on the tenner … I mentioned to you before about the hair and beard lines in Comerfords.’
In haste, I mentioned: ‘There is a vague link to Charles Darwin in the Comberford family … too distant to boast about, too near not to consider the resemblance.’ To which an old school friend responded: ‘The apple doesn’t fall far ...’
Charles Darwin’s portrait by Walter William Ouless in the College Hall in Christ’s College, Cambridge
When I was invited back to the Combination Room after lecturing and preaching in Christ’s College, Cambridge, I was shown where Charles Darwin’s name occurs frequently in the Combination Room wine book. As an undergraduate, Darwin originally intended to be ordained in the Church of England, and he is arguably the most famous alumnus of Christ’s College.
His portrait in the College Hall is a copy (1883) by the artist, Walter William Ouless (1848-1933), of one commissioned by the Darwin family in 1875 as a birthday present. Darwin quipped the portrait made him look like ‘a very venerable, acute, melancholy old dog.’
The Darwin family still has many connections with Cambridge, but I was also aware of the family connections with Lichfield. His grandfather, Dr Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802), lived beside the Cathedral Close from 1757, and his house, which now faces onto Beacon Street, is now an interesting museum, with beautiful gardens.
But I also thought there were some connections, albeit very distant connections, with the Comberford family. When I went in search of these connections last night, however, all I could find were very remote connections with Comberford Hall.
About 100 years ago, Comberford Hall was the home of Christopher Askew Chandos-Pole from about 1912 until about 1916. Christopher Askew Chandos Pole was the great-great-grandson of Colonel Edward Sacheverell Pole (1718-1780) and his wife Elizabeth Collier.
Edward Sacheverell Pole had fought at Fontenoy and Culloden. Within a year of his death, the widowed Elizabeth married the widowed Dr Erasmus Darwin, then 49 and already the father of a large family. They had already developed a romantic relationship in 1775, and following their marriage in 1781 Erasmus Darwin left Lichfield and Elizabeth and Erasmus Darwin lived briefly at Radbourne Hall, the 18th-century Georgian country house in Derbyshire that had been the seat of the Pole family for generations.
Elizabeth and Erasmus had seven more children, and Elizabeth was also the stepmother of his children from his first marriage. They included Robert Waring Darwin (1766-1848), who was born in Lichfield in 1766 and who grew up as a step-brother of Sacheverell Chandos-Pole.
This Sacheverell Chandos-Pole was the father of the Revd William Chandos-Pole (1833-1895), whose kinship to Robert Darwin’s son, Charles Darwin, was akin to them being first cousins.
A succession of Poles and Chandos-Poles were rectors of Radbourne, including the Revd William Chandos-Pole, who was appointed in 1866. He was married to Christina (Askew) and a year later their son, Christopher Askew Chandos-Pole, was born at Radbourne in 1871. In 1898, Christopher married Constance Marian Schwind in 1898, and they moved to Comberford Hall with their children, Christina and Peter, around 1912.
And so, as far as I could find, the connection between Charles Darwin and Comberford Hall is both remote and obscure. The rector who was the equivalent of his first cousin but who was related only through marriage was the father of a man who had lived briefly at Comberford Hall.
But it was interesting enough a connection to put that £10 note back into my wallet with a little more interest than is being offered by the banks in the wake of Brexit. To paraphrase Harold Wilson’s adage from 50 years ago, the £10 in my pocket is still of value to me.
Erasmus Darwin House on Beacon Street, Lichfield … Elizabeth Darwin’s great-grandson lived at Comberford Hall over 100 years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)
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