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Monday, November 9, 2026

A Ringsend Pub, a Family in Turmoil: The Troubled Story of The Kearns’ Public House

 

A Ringsend Pub, a Family in Turmoil:
The Troubled Story of The Kearns’ Public House

Behind the doors of a Ringsend pub lay a story of financial ruin, marital conflict and a shocking act of violence that would make headlines thousands of miles away. When Joseph and Mary Kearns arrived at 12 Bridge Street at the turn of the twentieth century, few could have imagined the extraordinary events that would unfold. From courtroom battles over unpaid debts and a fight for control of a publican’s licence to an assault that attracted international attention, the Kearns family’s turbulent history reveals a darker chapter in the social life of old Dublin.

Ringsend has been home to many publicans since its first tavern opened in the early seventeenth century. One of its saddest and strangest stories concerns the Kearns family, who arrived at 12 Bridge Street—now John Clarke’s—at the turn of the twentieth century.

Joseph Kearns on New Street

Joseph Kearns, a farmer’s son from Lisclooney in County Offaly, then known as the King’s County, became a publican at 67 and 68 New Street after purchasing the pub from Mrs. Frazer in June 1894. The premises stood in a poor part of the city on the edge of the Liberties and even when applying for the transfer of the licence the court was told that the pub itself was in poor condition.


In September 1895, Denis Byrne (28), Joseph Clithero (35) and Joseph Quinn (35) were charged with stealing a copper barrel of whiskey, valued at 30 shillings, from the pub’s cellar. A month later, Kearns appeared before the court seeking £3 7s 6d from Michael Hunt for drinks supplied over the counter. Hunt, a labourer earning £1 a week, told the judge that he could not afford to pay at that time. On learning that Kearns had repeatedly allowed Hunt to buy drinks on credit, or ‘on the slate’, the judge said:

‘the publicans were doing an infernal harm against the working classes.’ Adding ‘It was all a tragedy as the working classes could get drink so freely from these publicans.’

The court awarded £1—equivalent to one week’s wages—and told Hunt to stay out of Kearns’s premises once the fine had been paid.


Marriage and Financial Difficulties

Financial difficulties arose when Joseph’s brother and business partner, Patrick, decided to emigrate to the United States and wanted his share of the business paid in cash. On September 6th 1899, Joseph married Mary Evans at Star of the Sea Church in Sandymount. Mary was the only daughter of the late Denis Evans, a greengrocer at 27 Main Street, Blackrock. Joseph and Mary’s first son, Denis, was born in July 1900. He was named after his two grandfathers, both of whom were called Denis.

 

Towards the end of that year, Mrs. Mary Davin, the owner of 67 New Street, demanded the return of her house because Kearns had fallen behind with the rent. She was subsequently granted a transfer of the licence from Kearns into her own name. In July 1901, the Belfast newspaper the Irish News reported that Joseph had been declared bankrupt. The courts disposed of his interest in the New Street pub.



Mary’s Purchase of 12 Bridge Street

The pub at 12 Bridge Street was put up for sale in May 1900 by Nicholas Horan. By September 1901, Mary Kearns had purchased the premises with her own money, most likely money left to her by her late father. As she later told the courts, she was not dependent on her bankrupt husband: she was a woman of means, with a personal fortune of £700. When Joseph applied in October 1901 to have the licence transferred into his name, the court refused because he was bankrupt and had left several creditors unpaid on New Street.

The 1901 Irish census recorded the following household at 12 Bridge Street, Ringsend:

·        Joseph Kearns, aged 28, a publican; Mary Kearns, aged 26; and their son, Denis.

·        Two visitors, Francis and Thomas Smullen.

·        Two servants, Mary Gleason and Alice Doyle.

Mary’s Application for a Licence

Almost immediately after Joseph’s application was refused, newspaper advertisements announced that Mary Kearns would apply for the licence. On Monday, December 30th 1901, she appeared in court with her solicitor, Gerard Byrne. Because the previous licence had lapsed, she sought a new seven-day licence rather than a transfer. The court reserved judgement and did not grant her application until April 1902.



The Assault and Joseph’s Imprisonment

Before Mary received the licence, an incident at Bridge Street drew newspaper coverage in Dublin, Belfast and London, and as far away as Denver, Colorado. A report published in The Denver Courier on February 15th 1902 stated:

‘On Tuesday morning at Ringsend, County Dublin, a man named Joseph Kearns, publican and provision dealer attempted to strike his wife with a large bacon knife while she was dressing herself to attend a funeral. She succeeded in avoiding the attack and got out of her room, he followed her with the knife. The police were called in, and the knife was taken from Kearns. He was brought to Irishtown station and there charged by his wife as being a dangerous lunatic.’

The Dublin Metropolitan Police were based at the barracks in Irishtown. The charge of ‘dangerous lunatic’ usually referred to violence associated with excessive drinking. The incident is dated 21 January 1901 in this account. Joseph was initially charged with attempted murder, but the charge was reduced to common assault when he appeared before the Southern Divisional Police Court. He was found guilty of assaulting Mary and sentenced to one calendar month in prison.

Joseph served his sentence in Kilmainham Jail. The prison record described him as 29 years old and 5 ft 10 in tall, with brown hair, brown eyes and a fair complexion. It gave his place of birth as Belmont, County Offaly, a small village just south of Ferbane.

The Sale of the Bridge Street Properties

Although Mary had secured the licence and Joseph was no longer on the premises, she had less experience of running a pub than her husband. On August 12th 1902, an advertisement in the Freemans Journal announced that auctioneer Andrew J. Keogh would sell her interest in Bridge Street on the ‘instructions of Mary Kearns’. The auction included both 12 and 14 Bridge Street. No. 14 was sold to the Nelson family, while the pub at No. 12 went to Peter North, whose brother Morgan had been running premises across the road on Fitzwilliam Street. The Kearns account with Guinness was closed in June 1903 with arrears due but according to the finance officer at the brewery there was little chance of collecting the amount owed.


Ten years later at the next census Mary and Denis were living with widowed Hannah Mearns at 8 Bath Street[1]. Despite the obvious issues with the marriage in 1901 Eliza was born and two years later Margaret but Joseph is not mentioned in the census.

 

Sources:

Rebecca Simpson

The Irish Newspaper Archives

The British Newspaper Archives

The US Library of Congress

Licensed Vintners Association

Guinness Archives

Jameson Archives

 

WITH THANKS TO OUR SUPPORTER OF THIS BLOG POST

RAY McGIVEN, CHICAGO, USA, A FORMER RESIDENT OF THE PARISH OF RINGSEND


[1] Her husband Daniel died in January 1902, Hannah died in March 1914

Thursday, November 5, 2026

BE A BLOG SPONSOR & SUPPORT LOCAL HISTORY


 

A CENTURY OF BUSINESS IN RINGSEND

THE VILLAGE OF RINGSEND HAS CHANGED OVER A CENTURY AND THE BUSINESSES THAT MADE RINGSEND THEIR HOME HAVE ALSO COME AND GONE BUT OVER THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS WE WILL MAP THE CHANGES OVER A CENTURY FROM THE BUSINESSES THAT WERE IN BUSINESS IN 1926 AND THOSE IN 2026. 


HERE IS A SAMPLE



Wednesday, October 28, 2026

Francis Lafferty aka James Davis, The Irish Rebel Who Defied an Empire

Francis Lafferty aka James Davis by Trevor James

From the quiet surrounds of Bath Avenue, James Davis who was born in Derry in 1883, led an extraordinary life of military service, rebellion and imprisonment. After joing the Royal Navy, he deserted and enlisted in the British Army under an assumed name. He served in India, Burma and France during the First World War before participating in the Connaught Rangers mutiny in 1920 India. Court martialled and imprisoned, he endured harsh conditions, escaped and joined the IRA. This is remarkable story.

 

For many years Francis Owen Lafferty lived a quiet life in 58 O’Connell Gardens, Bath Avenue, but it hadn’t always been quiet.  He had spent over twenty years in the Royal Navy, the Munster Fusiliers, the Connaught Rangers, and the IRA.  He had fought in Europe, Africa and India, deserted in England, mutinied in the Punjab and been imprisoned in India, England and Scotland.  And he lived much of his life under an assumed name- James Davis.  This is his story.

Birth Certificate

Francis was born in the Derry Bogside in 1883; his father Patrick Lafferty was a cattle dealer.  His father died in 1898 when Francis was only fifteen, leaving his widow with seven children.  Within a year Francis had left home and joined the Royal Navy. He gave his age as 18 and he signed on for twelve years.  His records described him as 5’ 3”, with red hair, hazel eyes and a ruddy complexion. The first year was spent training. His initial posting was to HMS Caledonia, a boys’ training ship moored in the Firth of Forth.  Subsequent training took place at Portland, Dorset and Devonport and Francis was a good student and his conduct was rated as ‘Very Good’.  But most of this training had been shore-based or on moored ships and the real test was still to come on board a sea-going warship. 

In May 1901, Francis was assigned to HMS Magnificent, a battleship with 672 crew, which patrolled the English Channel.  Things didn’t go so well for him and by July he had spent 14 days in the ship’s cells.  He lasted another few months but that November when Magnificent was in port, he left the ship and never returned – a deserter. 

Clearly Navy life was not for him but maybe Army life would suit.  He was eighteen now but a deserter couldn’t enlist in the Army so he changed his name to James Davis, arrived at the recruiting office in Dublin and re-enlisted as a private in the 2nd battalion of the Royal Munster Fusiliers.  He served in India and Burma and was active in the North West Frontier campaign in 1908.  He was part of the expeditionary force to France during the First World War and would have seen action at many of the major battles at the Western Front.  He was promoted to corporal about July 1918 and as corporal, he was responsible for the discipline of a group of about ten privates and would relay orders from senior officers.   In September 1919, he was transferred from the Munsters to the 1st Battalion of the Connaught Rangers and sent to India.  The battalion arrived in the Punjab in October 1919 and were stationed at several outposts in the region.  James’s Company was assigned to Wellington Barracks in Jullundur.

On the evening of June 27th1920, a small group of Connaught Rangers in Wellington Barracks were discussing the situation at home in Ireland where martial law had been imposed.  Some had been home on leave and recounted actions of the ‘Black and Tans’ they had seen, others had received letters from home telling of atrocities in their home district.  They decided to make a protest against British military behaviour in Ireland: they would ‘ground arms’ and refuse to soldier.  By the next day the word had spread, and many other soldiers agreed with their stand and also refused to obey orders.  A committee of seven was elected including James (we will call him James from now on) to liaise with the authorities and the mutineers agreed to only obey orders that were given by the committee.   Despite opposition from the officers, they had green, white and orange tricolours made and flew them in the compound, and sang rebel songs.  They also refused to carry arms and had them locked away in the armoury.  Later the mutineers sent two emissaries to another company of Connaught Rangers stationed about twenty miles away at Solon, and they took up the protest as well.

The protests were initially peaceful, with senior officers arriving and trying to reason with the mutineers but on the evening of 1 July around 30 members of the company at Solon attempted to retake their rifles from the armoury. The soldiers on guard opened fire, killing two men and wounding another. This effectively brought the mutiny to an end.  Troops from other regiments were brought in and all the mutineers, including James, were placed under armed guard.   For over three days they were held in a compound outside, with no shelter, in temperatures over 46o C before they were brought to Dagshai in Northern India and court-martialled. 

Eighty-eight men were court-martialled and sixty-one were convicted for their role in the mutiny. Fourteen were sentenced to death by firing squad, but the capital sentence was only carried out on one soldier, Private James Daly.  James was sentenced to two years hard labour and discharged from the Army ‘with ignominy’. 

After serving some time in Indian prisons, James was returned to England and sent to Inkerman military prison in Woking, Surrey.  He was put on laundry work but on October 5th 1921 he somehow procured a ladder and some rope, scaled the wall and escaped, still in his prison uniform.

About a week later, a man dressed in rags, which he had apparently taken from a scarecrow, was arrested in London for drunkenness.  While in custody, one of the police noticed his similarity to the description of a man who had escaped from gaol, and under questioning the prisoner confessed to being James Davis.  The newspapers reported that he was fined 10s/6d and taken to Pentonville.  Whether this actually was James seems unlikely, because we do know that later that year, he was in the north of Ireland.

According to his own account, he escaped from gaol on September 1st 1921, and made his way back to Derry, where he immediately made contact with the local IRA.   In his own words “I joined the 2nd Northern Division at Cranagh, Sperrin Mountains, Co. Tyrone, and served as Brigade Training Officer until December 21st, when a raid was made on the camp and I, along with three others, were arrested. I was tried at the Winter Assizes at Omagh, Co. Tyrone and sentenced to five years penal servitude. I was sent to Peterhead Prison in Scotland to serve my sentence”. Peterhead Prison in Aberdeenshire was probably the harshest prison in the UK with a regime of relentless hard labour.  It was often referred to as Scotland’s Alcatraz, but with a biting North Sea wind.  Every day, summer and winter, prisoners were taken to a local granite quarry and had to break up huge granite boulders using only hand tools.  In the prison they were housed in cramped, freezing cells and with almost no freedoms. Years later James referred to the cold as being hard to bear, particularly for one who had spent many years in the heat of India.

Having spent over four years incarcerated, James was one of ten prisoners known as the Peterhead Ten who were the last republican prisoners to be released.  On their release on January 26, 1926, he made his way to Dublin.   He sought assistance from the government in finding employment and he worked for a while in the canteen of McKee Barracks, and as a temporary postman during the Christmas period.  In 1927 he was given a job as a labourer on the restoration of the Four Courts.  This was arranged by the President’s department which often arranged employment for ‘deserving cases’ who had served the state in some way. 

He also applied to the Irish White Cross for help.  The White Cross had been established in 1921 to distribute funds raised in America to Irish people who had suffered financial hardship due to the war of independence.  James was awarded a grant of £100, £50 of which he used to liquidate his debts.   He also immediately gave up his job in the Four Courts.

Possibly for the same reasons as he was given a job, in the early 1930s he was allocated a house in the newly built O’Connell Gardens, off Bath Avenue.  He was also given a post as an attendant at the National Museum for which he received £2 /11 shillings a week. 

By the mid-1930s he was the secretary of the Connaught Rangers Mutineers Association seeking pensions for the mutineers who had all lost their British Army pensions.  This was the time when Fianna Fail had come to power and there had been promises during the election that they would do something for these men.  After several years of struggle The Connaught Rangers (Pensions) Act, 1936 was enacted by the Oireachtas to provide for the “payment of pensions, allowances, and gratuities to or in respect of certain former members of the 1st Battalion, Connaught Rangers”. 

A ‘qualified person’ had to:
. have been a member of the 1st Battalion of the Connaught Rangers;
. have joined the mutiny;
. have been court-martialled in Dagshai in August 1920 and
. have been sentenced to death, penal servitude, or imprisonment for no less than 12 months.

Although only 88 men were court-martialled in Dagshai, 258 applications were made but only 38 were awarded pensions, 13 were awarded gratuities and a further two received disablement pensions. James was awarded a pension for life of 2s/9½d  (Two shillings, nine pence and a halfpenny) per day, about £50 a year. 


He married Sarah McKay from Donegal in 1937.  They married in St Columba’s church in Glendowan, Donegal where she was the sacristan.  Although still known as James Davis, his name on the marriage certificate was Francis Owen Lafferty and he was still working as an attendant in the National Museum. 

His address on the marriage certificate was 45 Belmont Avenue, Donnybrook although on his correspondence with the Department of Defence he was citing his address as 58 O’Connell Gardens.

About 1944, James and his wife moved to 51 Morehampton Road and he was calling himself Francis Owen Davis.  He died from cardiac failure on the 16th November 1948 in Clonskeagh Fever Hospital.  The funeral was in the Church of the Sacred Heart, Donnybrook and he was buried in Dean’s Grange cemetery. 

His name appears on a memorial in Glasnevin cemetery, unveiled in 1949, to the 1st Battalion, Connaught Rangers “in commemoration of those members of the battalion who gave their lives during the mutiny and subsequently for Irish freedom”.


Sources
The British National Archives, Kew Gardens
Irishgenealogy.ie
History Ireland Volume 18 Issue 4
Dail Eireann Debates
Bureau of Military Archives


Sunday, October 25, 2026

The Irishtown Butcher, the Strike and the Courts: Six Months of Turmoil in 1927 Dublin

 



In 1927, a dismissal at a small Irishtown butcher’s shop sparked a bitter industrial dispute that would drag on for six months, bring trade unionists and police into conflict, and repeatedly land its central figures before the courts. Behind the picket lines and courtroom confrontations lay a story of working-class Dublin, family livelihoods and the growing power of organised labour in a young Irish state. But the troubles of butcher Edward Coogan were far from over, and five years later, another court case would see him challenge the authorities over an entirely different matter.

 

Early in 1927, as the country wrestled with political instability and two general elections, industrial relations were still a thorny issue. In early January a small local industrial dispute found itself before the courts on numerous occasions as tensions flared between owners and strikers.

 

Edward Coogan owned two butcher shops, one at 15 Irishtown Road, now home to the very popular RICYS Café and 24 South Lotts Road on the corner of Gordon Street. Thirty-five-year-old Edward lived in Stella Gardens with his wife Teresa and three sons and a daughter.

 

In early January, Coogan decided to sack part-time worker Chrisopher Dunne. Coogan later told the courts that he sacked Dunne, who was working just 5 – 6 hours per week, because he believed that he was being dishonest. Immediately the Workers Union of Ireland trade unions placed pickets on both of Coogan’s shops. The Workers Union of Ireland had been formed in 1924 after a split from the ITGWU, the split led by James Larkin and his brother Peter. Chris Dunne was a married man living on Rock Lane with his wife Mary and three sons. The 1926 census indicates that he was a ‘butcher’ but also a ‘casual worker’. Rock Lane was a small laneway of tenements located immediately off Lower Baggot Street. Rock Lane was the lane beside the Old Henry Grattan’s pub on Baggot Street.

 

Tensions flared as the pickets’ attempted locals from using these two popular local butchers. The shops remained opened but the tension between Coogan plus the employees who still worked in the shop and the trade unionists escalated. In April, Coogan sought an injunction under the Protection of Property Act against Frank Cluskey, a trade union delegate and a butcher himself. He was the father of Frank Cluskey who would lead the labour party from 1977 to 1981 and would later serve as Minister for Trade, Commerce and Tourism in Garret Fitzgerald’s coalition government.

 

In June it was Coogan before the courts when local Irishtown Garda Thomas Collins, a native of Kerry, charged the butcher with assaulting Peter Redmond of Thorncastle Street, who was still working for Coogan but that tempers had flared. The pressure was building and now the strike was six months old. It wasn’t until July 2nd that news finally emerged that the industrial dispute had been settled amicably and that all the striking workers had been reinstated. The strike had lasted six months.

 

In 1932 Coogan found himself before the courts once more. By now he had disposed of the shop on South Lotts Road and was only operating at Irishtown Road. Judge Davitt imposed a fine of twenty shillings for having used a slaughterhouse at the rear of 39 Westland Row without a Department of Agriculture license. He argued that the house was licensed by Elizabeth Long from 1879 until her death in 1884 and then the premises was operated by William Cahill who sub let it to Coogan. The prosecution maintained that the licence died with Mrs. Long but the defence that as no physical evidence could be produced relating to the paperwork that the licence was still in effect, but the Judge found Coogan guilty and issued the fine. Coogan appealed the decision and forced the Department of Agriculture to tighten up both controls on and the enforcement of licensed slaughterhouses.

 


In 1932, Irishtown Road was sold to Chris Farrelly who ran the butchers until 1947. His butcher’s shop on South Lotts Road later became Kelly’s Grocery for many decades.


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Thursday, October 8, 2026

“Three Balls, Sunday Bests & a Few Bob: The Tale of Pawnbroking in Ringsend”

 

“Three Balls, Sunday Bests & a Few Bob: The Tale of Pawnbroking in Ringsend”

a still from The Committments movie featuring a Delaney's Pawnbroker
 similiar to the one in Ringsend

The name ‘Rosie Brassballs’ was a recognisable name to many for generations in Ringsend, but both were affectionate names for Rosana (Rosie) and Brassballs a reference to the three brass or gold balls that hung outside to denote a pawnbrokers shop.  For many locals one important pawnbroker in the heart of Ringsend was located at 9 Fitzwilliam Street.

For many families in Ringsend who depended on uncertain work such as fishing, hobbling or ship building, pawning was not a last resort but an ordinary weekly routine. Families without savings would pawn their "Sunday best" clothes or blankets on Monday morning for emergency food and cash, then redeem them on Saturday evening using wages to wear to Mass. The number of licensed pawn shops in Dublin surged from just 10 in 1786 to 76 by 1870, and over 300 across Ireland by the mid-1860s, alongside numerous illegal back-street operators.

 

9 Fitzwilliam Street was built 1871 by the Pembroke Estate and became the home of Edward Smyth, Smyth sold the lease on the building and moved to Edinburgh where he died. The building was purchased by William Tunney who also owned a pub around the corner on Bridge Street and would later build Tunney Cottages at the end of Fitzwilliam Street where the Ringsend Medical centre is today. Number 9 would be sold once again after Tunney died in 1912.

                                     

He had leased the lower floor of the premises to Matthew Mulvany, a pawnbroker from Erne Street. Mulvany was married to Rosanna (nee Murphy) and one of their children was Matthew Alphonsios who was born in 1868. He would take over the business on Erne Street from his father.  Matthew senior, who had just opened a second pawnbroker shop in Ringsend, died on June 27th, 1884 aged just fifty, having lost his wife Rosanna just a year earlier.

 

Matthew Junior was married to Mary Ellen and it was their first born, Rosana Mulvany, who would run the pawnbroking business in Ringsend. Rosana was one of four children, and she would marry fellow Ringsender Joseph Nelson, who owned the shop on Bridge Street. The Nelson family was also married into the local publican family The North’s.


By the turn of the twentieth century, another well-known pawnbroker William Delaney had taken over the Mulvany business in Ringsend. William’s father Richard was a pawnbroker with shops on Meath Street and Pembroke Street. William himself had numerous pawn shops including those located at 85 the Coombe and 19 New Street. Tragically his two brothers Frank and Patrick drowned in a Rathgar quarry in 1906. By the inauguration of the Irish Free State, Mrs Mary Delaney was the licensed pawnbroker in Ringsend. In 1923 the shop made the front page of the newspapers when three gunmen entered the shop and robbed it.

 

In 1933 Gertrude Mary Silke from Monkstown places ads in the newspapers stating her intention under the Money Lenders Act 1933 that she would be taking on the business of Mary Delaney at 9 Fitzwilliam Street. Silke’s husband William died in 1941, while Gertrude died in November 1974.

                                     

By the Second World War in 1943, the licenced pawnbroker was Martin Hutchinson. In 1946, the broker was broken into and a quantity of clothes robbed but detectives arrested and charged a number of men and one of their wives who was just 16 years old. Her husband received a four-year sentence when convicted. In January 1948, there was another break in at Hutchinsons, thieves attempting access through the top floor through bathroom but main shop heavily fortified. In 1948, Joseph Rafter took over the business now known as the Ringsend Money Office. Rafter also had sale and auctioneer showrooms in Capel Street.

By the late sixties the pawnbroker in Ringsend was closed and a new business moved into 9 Fitzwilliam Street. The Rafter family had moved their pawnbroking across the River Liffey to Gardiner Street.

And so, after almost a century of pawning everything from blankets to Sunday best, the brass balls finally stopped swinging at 9 Fitzwilliam Street. The shop had witnessed hard times, family tragedies, daring robberies and enough changes of ownership to keep any historian reaching for the pawn ticket. For generations, however, it had been more than a place to raise a few shillings—it was part of the weekly rhythm of Ringsend life. By the late 1960s the pawnbroker was gone, and with it went one of the neighbourhood’s most familiar institutions. Rosie Brassballs may have disappeared, but her name—and those famous three balls—remain part of Ringsend folklore.

1965
1976
1978

Today 9 Fitzwilliam Street, Ringsend is occupied by Eurosales.

(c) Ringsend & Irishtown History, EAB 2026

This article has been sponsored by Max McElinden Solicitors email: McElindenLaw@gmail.com


 


A Ringsend Pub, a Family in Turmoil: The Troubled Story of The Kearns’ Public House

  A Ringsend Pub, a Family in Turmoil: The Troubled Story of The Kearns’ Public House Behind the doors of a Ringsend pub lay a story of ...