Castlebar Fever Hospital – a vanished memorial to culpable indifference

Castlebar Fever Hospital was the first structure demolished in 1965 when works on what would become the Sacred Heart Hospital commenced. The Fever Hospital and the Workhouse that shadowed it are at the top of the list of former public spaces in Castlebar with a dark and terrible history.

In late 1846, fever, consequent on starvation, took hold in the cabins in and around Castlebar. From Breaffy through Castlebar and on south to Ballyhean, Errew, and Ringerraun, the Catholic clergy and others highlighted the plight of the starving and pleaded with the authorities to address delays in establishing relief committees and issuing labour tickets. In October 1846, Neal McCourt sat in his home at Ballyshane, Breaffy, surrounded by his starving wife and seven children. Fever had found its way into their cabin. He was too weak to work when he received a labour ticket, and died shortly after. The fate of his family is unknown, but it is unlikely they survived. There were demands in the community for a fever hospital to halt the spread of the disease. In 1839, a meeting chaired by George Bingham, 3rd Earl of Lucan, was held in the Courthouse in Castlebar. Charles Malley informed Lucan that several attempts to establish a hospital were frustrated by what he termed ‘interested parties’. The Mayo Grand Jury had set money aside, and William Malley had been appointed physician with Dr Thomas Dillon as superintendent to the medical department.

It was agreed that a fever hospital should be established. Four existing buildings at Snugborough, Millbrook, Springfield and Sion Hill were considered. Lucan supported the proposal but was against commencing work until five times the amount of money allocated had been raised. There was intense squabbling over the appropriate site, with Lucan, Malley and Dillon preferring the Springfield building on grounds of cost. Others argued for Sion Hill as it was away from the town. Lucan prevailed, but no hospital was established. The following year, questions about what happened to the money were raised. Malley had received it, and those who wanted it for the hospital challenged his right to have ‘his fingers on it’. Castlebar Workhouse opened in 1842. In 1844, it was suggested a section of the Workhouse be used as a fever hospital. This was a remarkable evolution in thinking. The idea of a fever hospital proximate to a residential area was fiercely resisted, yet having one within the Workhouse was now on the agenda. The proponents of the scheme were Colonel Blake and Matthias McDonnell. It was opposed by the medical profession and Lucan, who believed the Poor Law Commissioners would not sanction it. He was correct. The idea of a new fever hospital adjacent to the Workhouse emerged but was not acted upon. Then everything changed.

At a Board of Guardians meeting in February 1846, Frederick Cavendish moved a resolution to build a fever hospital immediately. Notwithstanding that fever hospitals were opened in other unions, the proposal was defeated by nine votes to six. Despite widespread fever and demands for a new hospital, it was not sanctioned—sheds were built to house fever patients. In November 1846, there was outrage when Lucan’s bailiff, Joseph Grey, cleared several houses on Gallows Hill and removed the roofs. The evicted found sanctuary in the homes and piggeries of neighbours. They carried little with them save typhus fever. A 60-bed hospital was finally and begrudgingly put out to tender in June 1847 and was operational sometime before May 1849.

In 1965, Mayo County Council applied to Minister Niall Blaney for an Exhumation Order to remove the remains of the famine victims interred in the cemetery adjacent to the former Workhouse and Fever Hospital. A spokesman for the council was reported to have said, ‘Arrangements have been made to have the remains which are uncovered, transferred to Castlebar Cemetery as they are found, and this operation will be carried out without causing any disturbance or attracting much attention’. The nameless multitude suffered one final indignity and eviction when their bones were bundled into bags and put on the back of a truck.

(Image: Castlebar Workhouse, OS 1893/7, Mayo County Library ).

 

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