A Glimpse at Grangegorman Female Depot

In October, 2011, Val, Bill and Lynette travelled around the globe as detectives seeking clues to give us a better picture of where the people who became our forebears came from.  First, there was a whistlestop tour of Fredericton in Canada where William Johnston (WJ) deserted the British army.  Then there was Crosscanonby in Cumbria to the church where WJ was baptised.  Crossing the Irish Sea we discovered Ballymena, the home of Irish-Scottish McClintocks and Fivemiletown where James Carey stole a cow and then Roscommon on the trail of Ann Carey who stole to be with her husband in Tasmania.

We found little in Roscommon to connect with Ann Carey, but we knew that she spent time in the Grangegorman Female Depot in Dublin and that the buildings were still in existence. We were fortunate enough to have a copy of her record page at the prison thanks to some good investigation by Thelma McKay in Hobart.

From Rosscomon to Dublin

So instead of having our customary drink and toast in Roscommon, we made straight for Dublin because we needed to visit Ireland oldest pub and then find Grangegorman Female Depot before darkness overtook us. With a flight already booked, we had to fly back to London the next day and we hadn’t seen enough of Ballymena to get a feel of where the McClintocks came from.

Ann Carey spent 3 months in that dreary prison in 1847, after being convicted of larceny in Omagh in County Tyrone. She was awaiting the SV Waverley, which was to transport her to Van Diemen’s Land on its third voyage to Hobart Town.

Our first stop in Dublin was the Brazen Head which claims to Ireland oldest and pub and that was the appropriate place to drink the health of our little Irish grandmother who was all of 4 foot 11 inches, feisty and quite prepared to tell you to ‘feck off’. In fact, she was charged with doing just that in Hobart Town on 20th January, 1852.   That information comes from her Convict Conduct Record.  Some of the family stories are even more interesting.   One is that she smoked a pipe stoked with the tobacco from cigarette butts off railway workers.  That’s right – my fifth great grandmother smoked a pipe! But as far as I am aware, she did not wear army boots.

The Brazen Head - Ireland Oldest Pub

The Brazen Head was the favourite drinking place for novelist James Joyce and I still remember his depressing descriptions of grey Dublin days. A year before this visit, our son  Andrew and wife Megan had taken us to this pub for the Sunday Singing Session. It was grand!! We listened and joined in with singing sad ballads about life and trouble with a room crowded with morbid melody.  A fitting place to toast Ann Carey. We did so with Guinness, because we knew that it is good for your health and enhances your intelligence.  The ads told us so.

Lack of preparation plagued us in the execution of the quest to find Grangegorman Female Depot. Doesn’t even sound like a prison does it? Well, nobody knew anything about it because it wasn’t a prison any longer. Fortunately, Lynette had brought backup of our home server and I had copied an article on the prison. We pulled up the copy on my PC and found that it was in Stoneybatter, Dublin 7. What did our Irish GPS think about that?

Well that was quite OK for the GPS, we got to Stoneybatter just fine but right on peak hour traffic. But that just wasn’t close to anything that looked for a former prison. If only I had looked at the article more closely, as it had one piece of vital information we needed to find our prison. We didn’t have the name of the street, did we? A suburb name just wasn’t near enough.

Grangegorman Entrance in 1996

We drove up some torturous narrow little streets using the random drive approach and asked some construction workers.  Their directions got us to the current men’s prison. Nope – that’s not it. So we went into a road that led to bus depot with a security gate. An inquiry there got us directions to the Grangegorman Hospital. All this at peak hour!!

While I was summoning up the courage to break back into the traffic to go to the Grangegorman Hospital which was nearly but not quite there, I thought I would have one more look at the internet article item that I had copied. Great day in the morning!  It had the street name further down in the article. Rathdowney Road. That was what we needed. We tapped this into our trusty little GPS and off we went.

After 3 wrong turns we were in the right street. Now all we had to do was drive the street and hope that the prison was going to a big complex that we just couldn’t miss. Well it almost was. We took pictures of a depressing front entrance and didn’t know we had found IT for sure until we arrived back in Oz and found an article on the prison.

Entrance to Grangegorman in 2011

Just like some depressing description out of James Joyce before imbibing at the Brazen Head, it was grey, it was dreary and my heart ached for poor Ann having to endure this sad place with harsh grey stone walls. She so deserved the payoff of eventually finding true love for enduring this place.

I like to think she did find true love with WJ, but that wasn’t until 1854 after a couple of false starts. She had to tell a few to ‘feck off’ and then one, John Hambrook, saw her off and she was sentenced to 6 months hard labour for her trouble and a pregnant with a little girl by the name of Mary Ann Carey.

But for all that, there was a happy ending with WJ and some absolutely grand descendants. She possibly reached a point in her life of thanking Judge Torrens for giving her the transportation sentence that she wanted on the 8th March 1847 in the County Tyrone Quarter Sessions.

The best perspective we could get was the rear of Grangegorman Female Depot from Fitzgerald St. It was high multistorey walls with missing windows that had incarceration written all over it.

Derelict remains of Grangegorman Womans Prison

Traversing the cavernous doors at the front entrance on Rathdowny Rd would make you feel like you had passed out of life into darkness. The steel doors present in a 1969 photo where not there in 2011. But it still looked daunting.

The stone walls of the outer the perimeter from Rathdowny Road looks like they hide another world.

It was easier for Ann than the long term residents.  She was there for 3 months to give her some fundamental training before going to Van Diemen’s Land. The Convict Department in Tasmania were trying to get better outcomes from female convicts who were not hired by settlers because they had no skills. She was actually fortunate to be here, as dreary as it looked.

We managed to see as much as we could of a former prison from the outside and then headed north for the Holiday Inn Express in Antrim for our last night in Ireland.

Record Hunting in Northern Ireland

We drove from Bowness-on-Windamere to Liverpool’s John Lennon Airport, after topping up on Beatrix Potter magic.  Having seen the Lakes area and looking at the Beatrix Potter sites, I have to say I am even more impressed with the movie Miss Potter.  Poo hoo to the critics who think Renee Zellwegger made her too eccentric!

We had an occasional sighting of the Irish Sea on the flight from Liverpool to Belfast with glimpses of the wind generators we had seen off Maryport and ships sailing between England and Ireland.

Wind Turbines in the Sea

We had several objectives in travelling to Ireland; see if we could find birth, death or marriage records for the McClintocks; see if we could locate Penny Plain, Ballymena; see if we could evidence one McClintock brother going to New Zealand and the other to America; work out what the family did in Ireland; get an understanding of what made the family Members seek new lives over the sea; see if could understand the McClintock Scottish connection.

We knew we were in for a tough assignment and were very likely to have to be satisfied with a ‘feel’ for what the world of Andrew McClintock might have been like in 1881.

Andrew McClintock left Belfast in 1881 bound for Littleton in New Zealand aboard the Coptic, which was one of the fleet of seagoing steamers operated by the White Star Line of Titanic fame.  Fortunately for us, he made it to New Zealand and his new life.

After arriving at Belfast International airport, we headed for the Holiday Inn Express in the town of Antrim just to the north, without the aid of our GPS which would not cooperate because we set the country for Ireland instead of the UK.  It worked pretty well after that except for not being able to locate Belfast International airports as a POI, which we wanted to catch our plane to London.

We came to Ireland with a solid record of failure in trying to find birth death or marriage records for Andrew, his father James and his mother Jane Mills despite subscribing to the best Irish Family History site at paying 8 Euro a pop to try.

North of Ireland Family History Society

You never know – we could have our share of the luck of the Irish actually being in Ireland.  Well, as it happens, we did.

Lynette was busily uploading MYOB for the office in Brisbane and Bill went downstairs to get access to Wi-Fi for the I Pad and came up with the website of the Northern of Ireland Family History Society.  They were open for 2 hours a week and they were open RIGHT NOW.  We threw everything into our cases and beat a hasty retreat from our hotel.

Armed with an address and a GPS now set for the UK we made it to NIRHS base in Belfast and came across some really friendly and helpful people.  Unfortunately, they found as much as we did in terms of birth, death and marriage records for the McClintocks.  None – they just don’t exist before the mid-1860’s.  Andrew McClintock was born in 1859 – just too early.  But we did get some tips, we now have a contact who we have met and we will join the Society as associate members.  We also know the Society has a branch in Ballymena, where the McClintocks came from.

Having confirmed that our skills in tracking down records wasn’t too bad since the locals couldn’t find the McClintocks either, we decided to retrace our steps back up through Antrim and have  look at Ballymena.

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