Where Gumbo Was (#278)
It’s an irony that in Ireland, a country that historically has been largely Catholic, all the ancient and historic churches are Protestant, even though there are hardly the numbers to fill them.
That’s because for 200 years, public Catholic worship was banned, and the Church of Ireland held the real estate.
On the other hand, the tortured history of religion in Ireland also gave newly-emancipated 19th-century Catholics the opportunity for a building boom of their own, and if the results are not of the same sort as thousand-year-old cathedrals, they are spectacular indeed.
Many were built in the mid-19th century, almost as a flourish to mark the changed status of the church, even though the Anglican Church of Ireland continued to be the official ‘established’ church.
Case in point: the Church of St. Augustine and St. John the Baptist in Dublin, commonly called the John’s Lane Church for the corner it stands on. Built starting in 1862 and finished in 1895 (although opened in part in 1874), its interior is rich and varied, borrowing from traditional modes and using many modern materials as well, including the polychromed railings in the title photo and below.
After the victory of Protestant King William III over Catholic James II, Catholics in Ireland were barred from public offices, the military, schools, landholding and, notably, from public worship. All but a few scattered small churches were turned over to the Anglican Church of Ireland, bishops were exiled and priests forced into hiding.
After years of struggle, political and otherwise, in Dublin and London, most restrictions began to ease, as they did also for English Catholics, who had not been forced underground, but deprived of most liberties. Starting in the 1830s, Irish Catholics began to build larger and more significant churches, and the banned religious orders were re-established, including the Augustinians, whose church John’s Lane is.
But history doesn’t often follow a straight course. Despite emancipation, Ireland was still ruled from London, most Catholics were excluded from voting and rebellious movements were widespread. The construction foreman and many of the workers on the church were involved with the Fenians, a secret movement for an Irish republic, and sometimes unable to work for months due to arrests. For years, the church was referred to as ‘the Fenian church.’
That’s not the church’s only political link; the twelve statues in niches on the exterior of the tower are by James Pearse, whose two sons, Pádraig and William were hanged by the British in 1916 as leaders of the Easter Rebellion.
As often happens, the church’s site is also rife with history; while this is a new church, the site has deep connections. A monastery and hospital was founded on the site in 1180 by the Augustinians. In 1316, during one of the many wars among Irish rulers, locals burned the street, just outside the city walls, to stop an invasion, and managed to burn the church as well, and several nearby suburbs.
The hospital continued, and eventually built a chapel on the site, not much bigger than a small house, and not big enough to upset local authorities. It’s that church that was demolished to make way for the present church, whose spire is the tallest steeple in Dublin. During construction, it was decided to add bells, and the design of the spire was modified to make way for them.
One other note: Every religious building I’ve been in asks for donations of some kind, but this one takes the cake. Here are some of the opportunities, and I may have missed a few!
The successful solvers this week, who knew Where In The World Gumbo Was, were Professor Abe and George G.
