The Judge’s Son Who Shelled the Four Courts, 1922

28-30 June 2022 marked the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Four Courts, the central event of the Irish Civil War, which resulted in severe damage to the original Four Courts building. The image above (via Dublin City Digital Archive) shows the extent of this destruction, which precluded any resumption of legal business on the site until the 1930s.

The extent of involvement of British forces in the Battle of the Four Courts has often been speculated on. The following unattributed newspaper clipping in the archives of Boston College has been kindly forwarded to this site by Killian Woods:

“WHY THE FOUR COURTS WAS ATTACKED

The following information in regard to the actual commencement of hostilities in the present conflict is derived from an absolutely reliable source.

At the last visit Mr Collins paid to London he was ordered back immediately by the British authorities, and it was said that there would be no further conferences held with him until he got the ‘Irregulars’ out of the Four Courts.

The time given him to have that accomplished expired at 12 midnight on June 27.  But as he had not yet made an attempt to get them out, he was allowed another four hours up to 4 am on the 28th.

Failing that, Colonel Boyd – who was in charge of the British military in the Phoenix Park, and who from 12 midnight was in command of a large detachment of troops – infantry and artillery – was to move with his troops against the Republicans in the Four Courts.

These men under Colonel Boyd were under arms from midnight and ready to march at a moment’s notice.

At 3.40 a.m. the ultimatum was sent by T Ennis in the name of ‘the government’ to the Republicans, to evacuate the Four Courts by 4 a.m.  As the Republicans took no notice of this message the Free Staters opened the attack at about 4.05.  This obviated the necessity of Colonel Boyd and his troops doing so.

At 1.30 a.m., the 28th, that is about two hours previous to the attack on the Four Courts, a body of Free State soldiers called to the British military camp in the Phoenix Park and got from the English military two large field pieces, together with shells for them.  These were signed for by ‘General’ Owen O’Duffy.

The Free Staters were bombarding the Four Courts from 24 to 30 hours without doing much material damage to the building; then the Free State officers who had received the two field pieces wired directly to the British government authorities in London accusing the British military in the Phoenix Park of having supplied them with ‘dud’ shells.  The London authorities wired the complaint back to the British authorities in the Phoenix Park.  At once a British officer and two British gunners were despatched from the Park to the Four Courts to examine the shells supplied by them.  On examination it was found that the Free Staters had not fused the shells, ad that, it was pointed out, was the reason why they proved ineffective.

The two British gunners and officers returned immediately to their headquarters in the park and as a result of their statement to the officer in charge there, four British gunners were at once sent back to the Four Courts.  They took over the working of the field pieces which now came to tell with deadly effect on the building and these four British gunners remained in charge of the bombardment until eventually the fortress went into flames on Friday shortly before midday.”

The ‘Colonel Boyd’ referenced above was in fact the son of one of the Four Courts’ best-known figures, Mr Justice Boyd. His obituary, published in the Belfast Newsletter of 5 November 1943, not only corroborates the above report, but goes further and suggests that the Colonel himself, dressed in the uniform of the Free State Army, may have been one of the British officers involved in firing the guns:

“Shelled the Four Courts

Lieut-Colonel HA Boyd CMG DSO, whose death is announced, was an officer of the Royal Artillery, with a distinguished record in war and in sport.  The third son of the late Mr Justice Boyd, he is reputed to have had the unique experience of shelling the Four Courts, Dublin, the main scene of his father’s long career.  This episode occurred after the establishment of the Irish Free State, but before then Colonel Boyd was in action on the streets of Dublin when his battery took part in the quelling of the Sinn Fein rebellion of 1916.  He was then Major Boyd, and it so happened that he was among the remnants of the British Forces that were left in Dublin when Michael Collins ‘took over.’ Not long afterwards, Collins had to face a rebellion on the part of some of his former comrades, a gang of whom seized the Four Courts.  This building was shelled by British guns (ostensibly in charge of Free State soldiers) and the story goes that Colonel Boyd was in command, camouflaged as an officer of the new Free State Army.  He was a fine golfer and won the Irish Amateur Championship on several occasions.”

One notable feature of the bombardment was that it left the Chief Justice’s chambers completely undamaged. Colonel Boyd would have been intimately familiar with the layout of the Four Courts. Could this have been his way of paying respect to the judicial regime of which his father had formed part?

Mr Justice Boyd, the Colonel’s father, was, like his son, a man of action – a noted yachtsman, unafraid, where necessary, to take the law into his own hands by apprehending malefactors on the street outside the Kildare Street Club.

A photograph of the Boyd family in its prime, including the youthful Colonel (with pet seagull) may be seen below.

Image of the Boyd family at Howth in the late 19th century, via Whytes

A Wizard in Court, 1856-1870

From the Freeman’s Journal, 15 September 1856:

The Wizard Anderson’s Banners

A motley group of men and women were brought before the magistrate in custody charged with carrying banners calculated to attract a crowd in the streets, and thereby obstruct the public thoroughfare. The flags, about a dozen and a half in number, were of an exceedingly handsome description, made of party coloured silk suspended from gilt poles, and bearing on them in gilt letters various statements and announcements relative to the Wizard Anderson, who will appear this evening.

They were all carried into the police office, and their bearers were crowded into and about the dock to answer the accusation of the police inspector. A gentleman connected with the wizard attended on behalf of the prisoners. It was stated that they were marching in single file through the streets, and were followed by a crowd of persons who interfered with the free passage of the flagways. The inspector said they had been cautioned against moving about with such ensigns, that it was contrary to law, but, notwithstanding, they persisted.

In answer, it was urged that Mr Anderson had gone to considerable expense getting up these banners, which from their handsome appearance, he thought would be perfectly unobjectionable. If, however, it was contrary to the law to have them carried about, he would, of course, direct that it should not be done.

Mr Stronge said that if an undertaking was given to withdraw these flags from the street, and instead to furnish the persons brought before him with ordinary placards, he would not impose penalties upon the accused (Here there was a general expression of thanks to his worship and of mutual congratulation from the prisoners). Placards of such a size as would not be inconvenient to the public might be sent out, but party coloured flags could not be paraded through the streets.

One of the women – We must bring them home, your worship.

Mr Stronge – Yes, I cannot help that.

The accused parties then shouldered their condemned banners and, on arriving in the street, were formed by a man who acted as commander into line, in which order they proceeded at a slow and measured pace through D’Olier Street, and Sackville street, to the Rotunda.”

John Henry Anderson, the Wizard of the North’, claimed to have been given his title by none other than Sir Walter Scott, although, as one writer remarked, whatever authority the literary giant possessed to confer such honorifics remains lost in the Gaelic mists. The first magician to pull a rabbit out of a hat, the Wizard later adapted his performances to include his four beautiful daughters, Louisa, Lizzie, Ada and Flora, the most famous of the quartet being the mentalist Louisa, otherwise known as ‘The Second-Sighted Sibyl.’

Anderson and Louisa, c.1870, via V & A Digital Collection

The Wizard’s daughters were with him when he visited Dublin again in 1870, but sadly their visit led to their father once again running into trouble with the law. On the 26 July 1870, the Freeman’s Journal carried a story about Anderson’s appearance at the Dundrum Petty Sessions Court in answer to a summons issued at the instance of Alfred Armstrong, a sewing factory proprietor, who complained that, on the 18th and 29th July 1870, at Lower Churchtown in the county of Dublin, the wizard had violently assaulted him and tore his clothes.

On Armstrong’s account, he had let lodgings to Flora and Louisa Anderson, without knowing that they were the daughters of the Wizard of the north. On discovering this, he demanded that they find other lodgings immediately. Tragically, Flora, in poor health at the time, died two days after the move. Reading between the lines, fear of contagion from her illness may have been the real cause of the demand she leave. The Wizard’s attack on Mr Armstrong was made in the belief that her death had been contributed to by Armstrong’s actions.

At the subsequent court hearing Louisa gave evidence that she never disguised the fact that she and her sisters were the Professor’s daughters, as there was nothing to be ashamed of in this; Flora, who had lodged in Dundrum on doctor’s advice, and appeared to be getting better there, left for town immediately as a consequence of her interview with Mr Armstrong, arrived there dreadfully existed, and died in Louisa’s arms on the following night, never having recovered from her nervousness.

Flora’s doctor, Mr Moran, from the College of Surgeons, deposed that Flora suffered from phthisis of one lung, but might have lived for a considerable time had it not been the shock on her nervous system; beyond doubt the immediate cause of death was the distress caused by Armstrong’s treatment of her and the subsequent move.

In the circumstances, the court unanimously came to the finding that it was appropriate to deal very lightly with the still greatly distressed Professor, imposing on him a sentence of 6d plus costs. Some might say that it was Mr Armstrong who should have been subject to legal sanction! The Professor had the last word: ‘I have done my duty to my dead child, and I pledge on my sacred word of honour that I will not visit that man again.’

Professor Anderson did not visit Ireland again either, dying prematurely in 1874. Although there were many subsequent pretenders to the title of ‘Wizard of the North’ and indeed to the title of ‘Daughter of the Wizard of the North,’ it is not clear what happened to his actual surviving daughters, one of whom was described, in a newspaper report of the 1880s, as ‘singing for pennies in the London slums.’ Would life have been different for them all were it not for the above tragedy?

More about the Wizard of the North (whose name may perhaps have inspired L. Frank Baum) here.

Top Image credit: Meir Yedid Magic

Revolving Doors Require No Hands, 1954

It’s often said that the Four Courts is not a place for children, but sometimes their presence there is necessary, as in the case of 11-year-old Joseph Moloney who turned up in the Four Courts in May 1924 to give evidence in his claim against Mayo County Council. Moloney had found an unlocked box of gelignite belonging to the Council’s building contractor in a field near Barrett’s Forge, Irishtown, Foxford in March 1953. He then lit the tail of one piece of gelignite, held it with both hands and waved it in circles in the air. It exploded and blew off both his forearms.

A field in Foxford.

The Irish Independent of 13 May 1954 gives a touching vignette of events following the settlement of Moloney’s claim for £7500:

“When the court proceedings were over, Joseph Moloney, who is a boy of fine physique, amused himself with his younger brother John (10), playing hide and seek in the new revolving doors erected in the approaches to the Law Library, while his mother was in conversation with her legal advisers. Barristers hurrying to and from the courtrooms paused to allow the game proceed, as the handless boy pushed the doors round and round with his arms.”

The revolving doors off the Square Hall, installed in 1937, were once upon a time a notable feature of the Four Courts building. More about their installation here.

We often think of personal injuries actions as a gravy train for lawyers and opportunists, but they also provide a crucial public function of protecting the individual against the negligence of others. Who could expect an 11-year-old-boy of 1954 to resist an unlocked box of gelignite?

I hope Mr Moloney went on to have the best of lives despite his injuries!

Image Credits: (1),(2)

The Time They Tried to Move the Four Courts to London, 1850

From the Freeman’s Journal, 17 July 1850

“HINTS FOR THE IRISH BENCH AND BAR

The Irish bench and bar are now upon their trial in a way more dangerous to them and to the national interests than at any previous time since the Union.  Not a post leaves Ireland without communications from some of the correspondents of the London press, laying bare every accessible point of their position.  If business be brisk it is pointed out with grudging envy, if it is slack a shout of exultation is set up over the empty bags of the practitioner, and some even of our Irish contemporaries re-echo the fine news as a preliminary to the shutting up of our national tribunals.  Bench and bar had need to look to themselves; and it especially behoves the judges to take care that their conduct shall leave no room for injurious observation; for we can assure these learned functionaries that there is no motive so base but the domestic traitors, who have been employed for our vilification and sale, will be quite ready to impute to them, to their sons, their sons-in-law and their remotest cousins, if any occasion, no matter now trivial, be given for corrupt aspersions.”

What was the cause of this concern? And why was the Freeman, so often their trenchant critic, so concerned for the reputation of the mid-19th century Irish bench and bar?

Follow the money.  On 27 March the same paper had reported that a bill ‘for the abolition of the Irish courts, and for reducing Dublin to the rank of a market town,’ had been communicated to a select few of the Irish members by Prime Minister Lord John Russell. According to the Freeman, Lord John, possessing ‘all the cold-blooded obstinacy of the Russells, added to the cold- blooded dogmatism of a doctrinaire’ would ‘pursue his venesection regardless of the writhings of his victim’ unless the Irish people raised their voices unanimously to object. 

Lord John Russell, reputed to be scheming to move the Four Courts to London, as depicted in Vanity Fair, via Artflakes.

What had actually been proposed was the abolition of the Lord Lieutenancy of Ireland, but it was felt that should this office be abolished, ‘then would follow the abolition of the Four Courts, the Custom-House, the Stamp-Office, the Royal Hospital, so that Dublin would be only a city in name, but really a village, requiring gentry, citizens, tradesmen and artisans to proceed with their families across the Atlantic to the shores of that rising country the United States of America to earn for themselves the means of support.’

The thought of the courts being transferred to Westminster created consternation in Dublin, not just among barristers, solicitors and court staff, for whom this would mean either emigration or prolonged annual absences from their family, but also among businessmen who, still feeling the pain of the abolition of the Irish Parliament fifty years previously, anticipated a further disastrous fall in trade. Public upset was such that on 30 April 1851 the Lord Lieutenant himself met with a deputation from the Dublin Chamber of Commerce to assure them that no possible removal of the courts of law and equity had ever been contemplated and that he considered their existence essentially necessary to Ireland. 

This reassurance did not alleviate the concerns of the Freeman, whose view was that although it would be a long time – four years at any rate – before the predicted relocation of the courts went ahead, ‘woe to the judge whose temper or connexions might expose him to a showing up as the Irish correspondents of English newspapers would take care that any scene in the Rolls would occupy a prominent place in the column of diurnal preparatory damage to the ancient and permanent seats of justice, the possession of which gives a constitutional dignity to our country and our city, to the befouling of which this covey of evil birds apply themselves.’

Safely removed from the predicted carnage, the Ulster Gazette was less sympathetic, remarking that Ireland (if not Dublin) would not lose one farthing’s work by the removal of the High Court to Westminster, as it was not law courts and lawyers which gave dignity to a country but the honesty and pure morality of its people. 

The 5th Marquess of Londonderry, who thought the Four Courts should stay where it was, via AbeBooks.

One of Ulster’s best-known peers did not agree.  The Marquess of Londonderry spoke against the abolition of the Lord Lieutenancy in the House of Lords, saying that if the office  were abolished, the Four Courts and other establishments would inevitably follow, Dublin would become a desert and grass grow in her streets, particularly at a time when nearly a decade of famine had already educed Ireland to the utmost verge of destitution. 

The above coincided, intentionally or not, with the implementation of a change in jurisdictional rules which stood to remove many previously lucrative cases from the scope of the superior courts. According to the English Sun, this would render the profits of Irish barristers so inconsiderable as to render the profession not worth following by 9/10 of the present practitioners, making it a matter of justice, as well as expediency, that they should be granted the privilege of practising in England, and indeed English barristers likewise in Ireland. 

The Tralee Chronicle sarcastically remarked that there was little graciousness in permitting Irish barristers to abandon their homes, families and connections to plead the cause of their clients before the judges of Westminster Hall and accept verdicts at the hands of ‘Cockney juries,’ nor was there any sense in encouraging English barristers to come to Ireland to gaze at ‘deserted halls and unemployed judges.’ It also suggested that the proposed move was due to embarrassment suffered by the British establishment in the course of a number of recent political trials, such as that of Daniel O’Connell in 1844, when the prosecuting Attorney-General had notoriously challenged opposing counsel to a duel in open court.

Something had to be done to stop the move, and it was.  On 1 June 1850 the Dublin Evening Packet and Correspondent wrote happily that

“The spirit of the Irish Bar, so long dormant, and by many supposed to be defunct, has at length been resuscitated and the energetic elasticity which characterised its revival yesterday, holds out a hope of better days for Ireland. For the first time since the disastrous period of the Legislative Union, the members of that honoured profession – casting to the winds all political differences and selfish considerations – met in proud array to protest against the fresh wrong to be inflicted on their native country, against the Process and Practice Bill and the bill for extending jurisdiction of the Assistant Barristers as calculated to affect most injuriously the long recognised privileges and the emoluments of both branches of the profession under the plausible pretext of rendering law cheap the real object being to degrade the superior courts of justice in Ireland and pave the way for transferring the principle legal business of the country to Westminster Hall”

James Whiteside QC, later Lord Chief Justice of Ireland (zoomable version here)

The meeting was notable for a speech by James Whiteside QC, who stated that, having lived long enough to listen with distrust to what public men say with respect to Ireland, he was certain that, in the absence of a determined expression of opinion on the part of the Irish people, the courts would be removed to London whenever expedient – something which would be disastrous for Dublin. The difference, he said, that the Four Courts made to the city was palpable – out of legal term the city bore a ‘dull and dreary’ appearance in contrast to the animated aspect it presented whenever the courts were sitting.

The Four Courts never did move to London, although some said it had never been intended to move them there in the first place and the whole debacle had been one almighty and maybe even very Irish fuss about nothing.

The Irish Bar survived the post-Famine years with the help of guineas generated in the Encumbered Estates Court in Henrietta Street. By the following decade, all talk of moving to Westminster was over and the Four Courts itself was expanding again with the erection of new buildings.

By this time, Mr Whiteside, now Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, had transferred his crusading abilities henceforth to another, even more serious problem – the eradication of the Liffey smell. Could his June 1850 speech have swayed parliamentary opinion? And, if so, should we consider another move – a transfer of his statue, currently in Christchurch, back to its original site?

Statue of Lord Chief Justice Whiteside, via Wikimedia Commons

After all, who better deserves to be commemorated within the Four Courts than the man who just may have tipped the balance in saving it for Ireland?