Frescati House

Frescati (sometimes misspelled 'Frascati') was an estate situated in Blackrock, Dublin, between the mountains and the sea. During the eighteenth century, Blackrock found favour with the well-to-do of Ireland and it grew into a fashionable seaside resort. The gentry of smog-ridden Dublin advanced into the area to embrace the sea-air. It was around this period that many marine villas sprung up around Blackrock – Maretimo, Carysfort, Lios an Uisce, and Sans Souci to name but a few. Frescati House was built in 1739 for the family of Hely Hutchinson, the Provost of Trinity College.

The Duchess

In the 1750’s, Hely-Hutchinson sold the house to the FitzGeralds, Ireland’s largest landowners, who owned land throughout Leinster. Frescati became one of their three principal residences alongside Leinster House in Dublin and Carton House in Co. Kildare. They spent much time in Frescati, especially in the summer.When the Duchess of Leinster, Emily FitzGerald saw Frescati, she is said to have fallen in love with it.

Enlargement and improvement

Unlike Kildare House and Carton, the Fitzgeralds did not commission Frescati House, but their enthusiasm for it was denoted by the fact in the 1760’s, they lavishly extended and enhanced it. They are said to have spent £85,000 (worth many millions of euro today) on the house. It tripled in size and received flanking wings and bay windows to exploit its panoramic sea views. It was at this time that the house was given its name, Frescati, a deliberate corruption of the Italian resort of Frascati.

Architecture and landscape

Unlike many other great houses, its exterior was austere and not adorned with pediments or pilasters. For some, this gave it a noble simplicity. For others, it seemed unremarkable and undermined the case for preservation. Its exterior contrasted with a richly ornate and well-proportioned interior. The interior was magnificent, with carved marble chimneypieces, many fine ceilings and plasterwork of a high quality. There was a celebrated book room, a classical stone staircase with medallioned walls and a circular room with a groined ceiling. In the long parlour there was a painted ceiling by Riley, a student of Joshua Reynolds. Frescati boasted its own theatre with Corinthian columns. Jacob Smith, who also worked at Carton and Russborough, landscaped and devised the large formal gardens filled with rare plants and shrubs. The house stood well back from the road on acres of woods and parkland, and a stream passed through its grounds. There was also a small seawater pool in the garden. The gateway stood close to where the entrance to the Blackrock Shopping Centre stands today and its lands stretched back to where Sydney Avenue is located today.

Lord Edward FitzGerald

It was the favourite place of residence of Lord Edward FitzGerald, the tragic leader of the United Irishmen. He was Emily’s son and had spent much of his childhood here. Emily was fearful for her children’s health, so they spent most of their time in Blackrock and were educated there. Emily was a strong devotee of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s , which preached the importance of practical lessons from the real world rather than rigid book learning. Emily decided that Blackrock would be the perfect place to practice the Rousseau ideals of education on her children. The Duchess, who was no stranger to extravagance, invited Rousseau himself to Frescati to be her children’s tutor. He declined, so Emily hired a Scottish tutor instead. The tutor, named William Ogilvie, was told to bring "Emile" to life in Blackrock. She later shocked and scandalised her family by marrying Ogilvie six weeks after her husband’s death. Lord Edward married his wife Pamela in Tournai in December 1792. After spending some time in Hamburg, the couple came to Frescati in 1793. The couple rarely had a permanent home during their time together, due to Lord Edward FitzGerald’s involvement with the United Irishmen. Pamela, widely believed to be the illegitimate daughter of Duke of Orleans, seems to have been a mysterious and complicated character. She was described as “elegant and engaging in the highest degree” and of “judicious taste in her remarks and curiosities”. She never lost confidence in her husband all through the feverish events, which took place one after the other. At the time, Britain was very wary of the wave of events in France. For this reason, Lord Edward’s family wished her connections with the Orléans family to be kept secret. Frescati House served as the venue for some of the key United Irishmen meetings. Thomas Paine, the author of The Rights of Man visited Lord Edward in Frescati House. Lord Cloncurry, who lived nearby in Maretimo, was also a frequent visitor to the house. This is a passage from a letter FitzGerald wrote to his mother in 1793:

Wife and I are come to settle here. We came last night, got up to a delightful spring day, and we are now enjoying the little book room, with the windows open, hearing the birds sing, and the place looking beautiful. The plants in the passage are just watered: and with the passage door open the room smells like a greenhouse. Pamela has dressed four beautiful flower-pots, and is now working at her frame, while I write to my dearest mother; and upon the two little stands are six pots of fine auriculas, and I am sitting in a bay window with all those pleasant feelings which the fine weather, the pretty place, the singing birds, the pretty wife and Frescati give me.

When he returned to the house in 1797, he wrote:

I can’t tell you how pleased I was to see this place again. In a moment one goes over the years; every shrub, every turn, every peep of the house has a little history in it. The weather is delightful and the place looks beautiful. The trees are all so grown and there a thousand pretty sheltered spots, which near the sea in this season is very pleasant. The birds sing, the flowers blow, and make me for moments forget the world and all the villainy and tyranny going on in it.

It was as a direct result of a crucial meeting at Frescati on 24 February 1798, that Fitzgerald’s revolutionary plans were betrayed by Thomas Reynolds. By March 1798, the United Irishmen had been infiltrated by spies. At this time, members of the Leinster committee were arrested. Lord Edward Fitzgerald escaped and went on the run. However an informer, attracted by the £1000 reward, was responsible for Fitzgerald’s arrest in Dublin's Thomas Street on the 19 May. He shot one of his attackers, in his attempt to escape, but he received a gunshot wound in the process. He died later from his untreated injuries in Newgate Prison on the 4 June. Frescati’s greatest historic attraction lies in its association with this popular Irish hero.

The Victorian era

Later, it was owned briefly by Sir Henry Cavendish, Receiver-General for Ireland. For a time, it housed Reverend Craig’s boys’ school which began in 1804. This school prepared students for Trinity College, Dublin, and emphasised anti-Papist (anti-Catholic) values, much the opposite of what Lord Edward believed. Several important fireplaces were removed at this time. According to Gerald Campbell's book "Edward and Pamela Fitzgerald" Lady Campbell (their daughter) traced two of them to houses in Merrion Square. The five stables (which were situated before the bend of what is now Frescati Park) were converted into houses. The Craig family sold the house in the 1850s.

The early 20th century and development

In the 20th century, residential developments were built on the estate of Frescati, such as Frescati Park. Frescati Park partly incorporated Stable Lane, and the stable-houses were demolished to make way for it. It was built on woodland around Frescati, and comprised houses with bow windows, mirroring those of Frescati. When Lisalea House was demolished, its lands were incorporated into the Frescati Estate.

The beginning of the end

Frescati’s demise began in the late sixties, when speculators acquired it from the McKinleys. The grounds of the Frescati remained substantial. Even after land had been acquired for the Blackrock dual carriageway, the house retained at least seven acres. In the late sixties, the Dún Laoghaire Corporation acquired lands at Frescati to build a bypass. At the same time, Frescati and its lands were rezoned for commercial development. This meant a high financial potential for the lands. By 1970, Frescati had fallen into the hands of “Frescati Estates Limited”, a company controlled by the directors and owners of Roches Stores. The house at the end of the east wing continued to be occupied for some years, and appears in good condition where the rest of the house is boarded up. They sought planning permission to have it demolished. It was swiftly granted, provided that they secured permission for whatever was to be built on the site. Roches Stores controlled Frescati Estates. A department store, an office block, a hotel and a car park were planned for the site.

The struggle to save Frescati

When the public found out in 1971, there was a huge outcry. When a meeting was called to discuss the future Frescati, Blackrock Town Hall was packed with people. Several groups emerged in opposition to its demolition. The local people organised into an organisation called the Frescati Preservation Society. Desmond FitzGerald acted as the chairman, and Marie Avis Walker championed the cause in her role as secretary. All that Roches Stores were prepared to retain of the house was a single stuccoed ceiling, which was to be kept in a memorial hall attached to the store. Local politicians joined the “Save Frescati” bandwagon as the house’s welfare became an increasingly important issue with the people of Blackrock. Since permission to demolish the house had already been granted on the condition that permission was granted for whatever was planned for the site, the campaign focussed its efforts on preventing this planning permission from being granted.

Roches threatened to sue Dun Laoghaire Corporation for £1.3 million pounds, an obscene amount. This was in spite of the fact that legal opinion of the time dictated that such a claim could never be substantiated. However, they said that they would withdraw this claim if they were allowed to knock down the wings. Having realised the situation they had placed themselves in, Dun Laoghaire Corporation found itself in an impossible position. They submitted a proposal for opinion that they could demolish the wings and integrate the famous Pillar room into the part that was to be retained. This was widely rejected. Several groups in favour of conservation including An Taisce, Bord Fáilte, the National Monuments Advisory Council, the Old Dublin Society, the Arts Council, and the Irish Georgian Society, signed a formal objection rejecting any proposition on the part of Dun Laoghaire Corporation to permit the demolition of any part of Frescati. Several companies offered to buy the house and promised to develop the lands while preserving Frescati. One of these companies wanted to erect a residential development in the remaining land which integrated a restored Frescati. Alas, all of these offers were refused.

Conservationists feared that Roches Stores would attempt to demolish the house illegally, as had happened in other cases. These fears proved well founded when vigilant locals noticed a truck masonry from the house. They alerted the Dublin Corporation who sent a housing inspector. After a long wait, they gained access to the house. Inside, they found the architect of the shopping centre with some workmen. He noticed that some floors had been removed. The architect claimed that they were “just lifting floorboards and joists”. There was no apparent reason why they would need to carry out such a job on the house. In any case, they were not permitted to carry out any works of this kind on the house. The housing inspector pointed this out. Saving Frescati soon proved to be very much an uphill battle. The campaign to save it continued, involving several lengthy court battles and well-subscribed petitions. One historian in Trinity College prepared a thesis for a Master’s degree based on the Frescati situation. She was asked in court how she felt about the possible destruction of Frescati’s wings. “Bluntly”, she replied, followed by a loud applause from the public gallery. “It’s vandalism. What else could one say of the destruction of good things left by our ancestors which are built to last?” A petition was presented in court that contained thousands of signatures from Ireland and abroad. It was argued that Frescati was structurally sound but that much work needed to be done inside. Princess Mariga Guinness of the Irish Georgian Society said that she had several inquiries from people who wanted to live in Frescati. She added that she had seen buildings such as the British Embassy and Holy Cross, which were in a much worse state of repair, restored.

Marie Avis Walker exploited a legal loophole, which had first been exposed by somebody who, earlier in the seventies, had applied for permission to build “a small cabin of clay and wattles made, nine bean rows, and a hive for honey bee” on the Isle of Innisfree. This application was rejected in a deadpan decision by Sligo County Council, who claimed that it would hinder the amenities of the public park. When Marie Avis Walker made use of the loophole, she was a little more successful. She was granted planning permission for a shopping centre development in which Frescati was retained in its entirety. The developers were outraged that she was able to do this, even though she was not the owner of the land. The law was changed as a direct result of this, and it is not possible now to seek planning permission for land in which you do not have significant legal interest. This event was important for another reason: Even though Marie Avis Walker proved that the shopping centre and Frescati House could co-exist, Roches rejected the possibility, and in doing so demonstrated their complete unwillingness to compromise or make any allowance for the continued existence of Frescati.

As the war raged on, the house was deteriorating rapidly. Valuable interior fittings such as chimney-pieces were removed. Lead was stolen from the roof with predictable consequences for the general condition and the beautiful plasterwork. Roches Store gave the house nothing more than token protection from vandals, and this was completely inadequate. The pitiful fences were soon broken down by vandals and were not replaced. The Corporation was partly to blame, as they did not properly replace the wall that they had demolished to facilitate the new road. This left the grounds of Frescati open to all and sundry. No action whatsoever was taken against the people who were reducing the house to rack and ruin. No repairs were carried out on the house and it descended into dereliction in a remarkably short time. The worsening condition of the house was one of the factors which made its ultimate destruction inevitable.

In the early eighties, An Bord Pleanála finally sealed Frescati’s fate by granting permission for its wings to be demolished. In 1981, it was stripped of its wings. These constituted seventy percent of the house. Incredibly, the essential conditions that called for the restoration of the rest of the house were subsequently ignored. When the wings were demolished, nothing was done to prop up the remainder of the house. Despite this, the building was still structurally safe. The Corporation’s case had argued that the proposed development was unsuitable for the area. Once Roches had completed their Department Store, the conservationists had no legal leg to stand on, since permission to demolish the house was effective once permission to develop the site had been granted. They became unwilling to negotiate with the conservationists. Roches, more than likely aware of its legal position, declared that Frescati was "beyond restoration". This statement was questionable, especially as Marie Avis Walker pointed out that the British Embassy in Merrion Square, which had been gutted by fire, had been restored. In any case, the poor condition was a result of vandalism that Roches failed to prevent, and damage they failed to repair. At this stage Frescati had become a filthy roofless ruin with boarded-up windows in the middle of a sea of concrete.

The end

At this stage, it was clear that Frescati’s battle was being lost. Dun Laoghaire Corporation became aware of this and its reaction was frantic. In 1982, the Corporation tried to get an injunction in the High Court to compel Roches Stores to restore the remainder of the house as per the planning conditions. The judge, Mr. Justice O’Hanlon criticised both sides for the situation that had been allowed to develop. The Corporation had failed both to ensure that the vacant building was kept in proper repair and to enforce the law on Roches Stores. They hadn’t taken effective action over the developers’ refusal to abide by undertakings they had given to retain the one house and to spend £20,000 on essential repairs. Mr. Justice O’Hanlon concluded that the situation had gone beyond the point of no return, and that it was not feasible at this stage to restore Frescati. Here is a quote from the final judgement:

It appears to me that the developers have been completely indifferent to, or perhaps have even welcomed, this deterioration in the condition of the building, and have done virtually nothing to halt it. I feel the developers have shown a complete disregard for the moral obligations which arose from their course of dealing with the corporation or the planning applications; but I feel the corporation have also been extremely remiss to exercising whatever statutory powers were open to them to cope with the situation.

On the 4 November 1983, in the early hours of the morning the ghostly shell of Frescati was razed to the ground, thus ending a campaign which had lasted almost thirteen years. Two JCBs completed the job quietly, and not a single protestor turned up to hamper the demolition, though some came to observe the demolition. Some of the bamboo, which was planted in 1784 by Lord Edward from shoots he brought back from St. Lucia in the Caribbean, was still there, shaking in response to the final bow of the mansion. Souvenir hunters came to scour the rubble, which was left in situ until ten o’clock in the morning. Then the remains were collected into lorries and dumped onto an ignominious heap in Ringsend. Frescati’s end was summarised in a letter by Aidan Kelly, which appeared in the Irish Independent:

Softly, well before the winter dawn, the yellow monster lurched towards the gray façade. A lone rook stirred in the tall beeches nearby, troubled by the relentless purring of powerful motors. Down beyond the stream, what remains of his ornamental garden, a few regal bamboo blades, trembled in the night breeze. A mighty arm nudged the building. There was no crash, not even a rumble. Masonry fell with a rustle and hiss of dust down ivy-clad walls, to thud in moss. Within the hour, Frescati was no more.

A long time later, in the dull light of the November morning, early shoppers passed along, wrapped in the world of their own concerns. They noticed nothing. Maybe our small and selfish minds, our furtive Irish ways, our ready response to the turning of a coin, could never grasp the natural nobility and great sincerity of the man [Lord Edward Fitzgerald] ! His progressive recognition of the total injustice of the behaviour of the aristocracy towards Ireland, is something the Irish have never had the greatness of mind to value. In the Irish mind this gallant man has always been a lesser patriot. Now they would roll a boulder in, and slap a plaque upon it! How quickly we can add an insult to an injury, and know not that we do it

The aftermath

Though Frescati's was perhaps not one of the greatest insults Architectural heritage has ever sustained, its disappearance represents a loss not only to the people of Blackrock, but to the nation. The saga was one of the endless list of casualties which highlighted the problems of the Planning Act. Since Frescati's demolition, Roches Stores has ceased to exist. The store tripled in size and became known as the Frascati Shopping Centre. A new shopping centre was built opposite the site of Frescati, and it opened just two years later. By way of compensation for the loss of Frescati, Frescati Estates Limited agreed to endow a scholarship at University College Dublin in perpetuity to the sum of £50,000, to be known as the Lord Edward Fitzgerald Memorial Fund. Roches Stores placed a granite boulder bearing a bronze plaque beside the entrance. The plaque commemorates Lord Edward FitzGerald, though the inscription contains factual inaccuracies, and it mentions that he “lived in Frascati [sic] House”. The boulder stands to the right of the pedestrian entrance to the Shopping Centre today, but hedges are often grown in front of it, making it barely visible to passers by.

The landscape has been completely transformed.. Almost every reminder of its existence has been erased. The Frescati stream, as it was called, is now culverted under the ground, and has been covered by the tarmac car park. It emerges again in Blackrock Park, but it is now badly polluted and devoid of all life. The original tunnel, which Emily had built to carry seawater to Frescati, remains to this day. Its whereabouts is a well-kept secret, and it has been blocked off. In time of threat from unexpected raids by the Crown Militia from Dublin Castle, the course of the stream could well have formed an escape route. One may notice stray cut-granite blocks which look out of place in the car park. These once belonged to the house. The remnants of Frescati are scattered now and hard to trace. The unique cast-iron railings which graced Frescati were stolen by travellers who occupied the site and melted as scrap metal. A few fragments of plasterwork remain, though these are in safe-keeping by the conservationist Peter Pearson. Ironically, more of the house would have survived if Roches had gone ahead with the demolition in 1971. The stuccoed ceiling which they originally offered to retain is now destroyed. Curiously, the stone pediment of the front doorway and its ionic columns were not removed before demolition and are now more than likely crushed concrete.

A house nearby called St Helen’s was under threat in recent years. The Corporation acquired lands from it for a road reservation. While its grounds were developed, the house lay vacant, and it became the prey of vandals though it did not suffer the same degree of damage as Frescati. Its future was very uncertain for many years. However, thanks to conservationist pressure, the house was declared a national monument. The house has since been refurbished as the five-star Radisson SAS Hotel. The lessons learned from Frescati have been used elsewhere. Hundreds of houses in the area were listed for preservation immediately after Frescati was demolished as a direct reaction. The Frescati case was considered in the final stages of the Architectural Heritage (National Inventory) and Historic Monuments (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill, 1998 and buildings with cultural importance are now afforded greater protection through the act as a result. The large degree of neglect that Frescati suffered was a key tactic of the developers. Legislation was introduced recently in which owners of historic buildings can be punished by a prison term or a fine of up to one million pounds for negligence. This legislation was exercised when Archer’s Garage in the South City, a listed building was demolished illegally in Dublin. There was an immediate uproar, and the developers found themselves under threat as a result of the new legislation. The developers agreed to rebuild the building, and Archer’s Garage has now been rebuilt. Through the loss of buildings like those on Fitzwilliam Street, Frescati and Powerscourt, a higher respect for historic buildings has developed.

Blackrock after Frescati

Blackrock has been described as a showcase of the flaws in the planning System. While it may be said that the village has not necessarily suffered as a result of the bad planning, a situation has developed in which there are two shopping centres beside each other. The Blackrock Traders’ Association objected to Frescati’s demolition originally on the grounds of Frescati’s importance and the development of Roches Stores. They may never have guessed that not a single butcher, baker or grocer in the village would have survived the impact of Roches Stores.

Blackrock is currently a much sought-after residential area. The pressure for development land in Blackrock has resulted in the destruction of many historic houses; Maretimo, Dawson Court, The Grove, Mount Merrion House, The Elms, Laural Hill, Fitzwilliam Lodge, Talbot Lodge, Frescati Lodge, Woodville, Carysfort Lodge, Avoca House, Lisalea, Ardlui, Linden Castle and the soon to be demolished Yankee Terrace (a street comprising of around 10 19th century cottages, torn down to build a road) are just a few houses to have suffered - Though none constituted a loss on the scale of Frescati. Blackrock remains one of the most popular residential areas in Dublin. Blackrock has changed much since the demise of Frescati. The Blackrock bypass has dramatically changed the character of the whole area. There is a vibrant atmosphere in the village, which is dominated by cafés, pubs, and boutiques. Much of Blackrock vanished in the advance of the bypass and the landscape has been completely transformed for the worse. The landscape around the bypass is unsightly and barren.

Frescati was the last building of significance connected with the 1798 rebellion and as such its loss has come to be regarded as especially unfortunate in hindsight. It has been observed that in the end, Frescati fell victim to the same mercenary spirit that infuriated Yeats in September 1913.Blackrock’s ongoing metamorphosis has been described by its long-time resident, the comedienne Rosaleen Linehan. In her own words: “Long live Blackrock. Nostalgia is self-perpetuating. No doubt in forty years time people will be regretting the loss of the Roches Centre with all its outlets and its replacement with a fake version of Frescati House."