Skip to main content

Watt a Shock: Sutton

Nearing the end of my day-excursion stopping at the stations along the way to Howth, the calm twinkling sea guided my train into Sutton railway station.
Sutton Station - platform view
An unassuming building, Sutton Station is a simple white-washed, single-storey Georgian example of functional symmetry. The projecting iron and wood (not glass) veranda jaggedly but gracefully sweeps towards the building mirroring the ironworks’ curves. The ‘GNR’ emblem finishes the company's decorative addition.
'GNR' emblem under station canopy
Opened as Baldoyle & Sutton in 1846, it was renamed Sutton in 1901 until 1916 when it was renamed as Sutton and Baldoyle. It reverted again to Sutton in 1935. The footbridge is a modern replacement of the original lattice-girder design favoured by the GNRI and its chief engineer, William Hemingway Mills.
Tickets please! 
Shown above is that the station building was originally natural stone colour, and not white. I particularly like the woman being asked by two(!) uniformed conductors for her ticket on the platform, which is obviously proving elusive!

Old photographs found on Pintrest show that the platform veranda was not part of the original station; indeed the GNR metalwork would suggest this and so it was added after 1876, possibly in 1901 at its first renaming to ‘Sutton’.
Sutton Station with no veranda
The signal box stands neglectedly in its original spot by the level-crossing, now painted in that familiar shade of blue-grey which only seems to add to its miserly deteriorative state. Another old photograph shows it in a former glory smartly painted white with black roof, signage and entrance ladder. Just as the white highlights the box to passing drivers, the current hue disguises it which is probably deliberate to avoid confusion. A homey touch is the horseshoe which remains above the door – for good luck?
Sutton signal box with tram shed and power station behind

Exiting the station through its now sparse interior, I treat myself to a cup of tea from the lovely little café in a later extension. The barred windows are somewhat foreboding, and as the below photograph demonstrates, replace the original more cottagesque diamond muntins and square mullions.
Sutton Station - front view
Spotting the red and yellow brick work of what must be the station master’s house (I’m getting good at this) and scalding my tongue in the process, a walk to the front shows that this building is the flat-pack archetypal GNRI station master’s house. It is now a private residence.
Station Master's House
The National Inventory of Architectural Heritage (NIAH) lists this as being built c.1870 but this is too early as we should all by now have ingrained in our heads that the GNRI was established in… 1876, well done class! As we’ll see in later posts, these houses are emulated across the network and are given various construction dates ranging from 1860-1890. I’m determined to find a final date.
Map view of station, power station and tram depot
There was once a GNRI owned Electricity Generating Station at Sutton, located just west of the tram sheds for the Sutton to Howth Tramway. I can peek the top of the roof with its red and yellow brickwork from beside the signal box but need to go for a wander.

Walking past a modern hexagon-fortress (it’s a sewage pumping station I think) I turn a corner and – blimey! A grand residential block, three-storeys high with recessed rounded arches, four half-eclipsed eyebrow and circle-top extended leg windows stand symmetrically to attention, with the circled windows also appearing on the end pediments, which makes a change to the standard ocular features on GNRI workshops. Interestingly the yellow-brick accents are on the gable ends and not the front or back elevations, where they are in the same red as the main body. I’m also heartened to notice this enclave is called ‘Dargan’s Way’ after the Irish railway magnate, William Dargan. Dargan way-hey! Sorry…

Sutton Engine House
A small plaque informs my beady eye that this is the ‘Engine House’. I automatically think steam engines because, well, it’s trains innit. But thank goodness for maps. The aforementioned map informs me that this building is the northern of the power station enclave; the building and chimney to its south are no longer extant, having burned in a fire in 2009; a photograph by Barry Pickup shows that the engine house was derelict and vandalised before catching fire.
Power station fire in 2009
What can also be seen on the historic map is the ‘Tramway Depot’. An internal shot shows the depot in action; the trams are now restored and housed in the nearby National Transport Museum in Howth.
Sutton-Howth tram depot
My honorary research assistant, or Professor Emeritus of the History of Art to give his official title, Roger Stalley spotted a typical GNRI brick building at the Hill of Howth, which is now a private residence.
Sutton-Howth Tram sub-battery power station. Photo: Stalley, R. 
Vincent J McBrierty confirms the that this was a sub-battery power station, or 'mysterious motor-power' as described in the Freemason's Journal:
Freemason's Journal, 14 August 1900

Back to the main generator and incredibly, Sutton’s mini-Battersea is not listed on NIAH, meaning an architect, date and historic context is undocumented. Further searching shows that the ESB took over the power station in 1928, with newspaper listings advertising the sale of the internal mechanics:
Irish Press advertisement, 5 October 1934
Newspaper archives also detail a tribunal brought against the GNRI by the power station workers whose jobs had been lost as a result of its closure. The Evening Herald on 7 January 1935 covers the court case of George Lestrange, Patrick Cosgrave, and Stephen Hanway; they were all compensated. 1935 is also the date of the final renaming to ‘Sutton’.

Taking a breath I decide that’s enough history for today. A few weeks’ later I am looking for an architectural drawing of Dundalk I know I have a photo of if I could only find the bloomin’ th- hang on a minute. What is that? ‘GNRI Additions and Alterations to Two Cottages at Sutton’. What cottages?! This title tells me that not only were there GNRI-related cottages but that they already existed before the company was founded.
Additions and Alterations to Sutton Cottages, 1901
It’s time to revisit the map and Google Street View aids my discovery. There are two semi-detached houses to the north of Sutton station; one has been extended. Studying the drawing it appears that these were originally single-storey railway cottages with the GNRI adding the upper storey in 1901; the chief engineer Mills has signed the lower-right corner. 1901 is the first time Sutton lost its ‘Baldoyle’ counterpart. Do the residents know about these changes? It is a wonderful find, one I’m sure they’d be interested in.
Sutton Cottages
Thoroughly spent, it strikes me how much industry there once was at such a small railway station beside the sea in north Dublin, now largely viewed as an intermediate stop before the big finale of Howth. Sutton was once the centre of GNRI ingenuity; trains, trams, sheds, power stations, station, station master’s houses, and workers’ cottages.

After all these shocks, I’m ex-static to say this post is over.

I’ll get my coat…


Sources 
ESB Archives
GeoHive.ie
Google Street View
Irish Newspaper Archive
IRRS Archives
Patterson, E. M., The Great Northern Railway (Ireland), Oakwood Press: Usk, 1962.
Pintrest
Stalley, Roger
National Archives of Ireland - Census Records
National Inventory of Architectural Heritage
National Library of Ireland
National Transport Museum Howth

Popular posts from this blog

Spinning at Balbriggan

Recovered from my rather cranky experience at Skerries , my eyes are rewarded and my heart gladdened on the approach to Balbriggan. Arriving from the south and entering the station over John Macneill’s viaduct, a neat, contained lump of a station reassures me as I alight. Designed by George Papworth for the Dublin and Drogheda Railway (DDR) and built in 1853, Balbriggan railway station is a single-storey H-plan brown brick affair, with flanking Romanesque arches. The current stairway from hell take me across the tracks and provide a sweeping view of the beach and harbour, as well as a stairway to heaven: the former piers for the original footbridge. The beats to Talking Head’s Road to Nowhere start bubbling in the back of my mind. Beside the station building and its adjoining flightless steps stands the hammered stone and red brick base of the former, seemingly unadaptable, water tower. A more sympathetic contemporary alteration in the form of glass sliding doors announce

Sweet Dreams at Navan

Upon my first visit to Navan in 2018 in search of the railway station I was astounded that such a large town could have had its train service removed, when much smaller villages along the Sligo and Maynooth routes were still connected to the capital. Little did I know that two years later I would marry a Navan-native, settle in the area and pass the station every day, miffed and mournful at its wasted potential. The line opened with ambition 172 years ago in 1850, built by the Dublin and Drogheda Railway as a branch line from Drogheda to Oldcastle. Boyne Valley Railtour at Navan, 1977, Railway Preservation Society of Ireland My station safari was rewarded by passing over the extant railway tracks at the station’s level crossing – the line is still in operation for Tara Mines – and the heralding of the former station master’s house. A typical two-storey GNR example, its red brick man has been pebbled-dashed, disguising the polychromatic contrast intended for the, still exposed, yellow b

Paradise Lost: Howth Junction and Donaghmede

Alighting onto a post-apocalyptic concrete and steel abyss I surveyed the mesh of stairs, like an Escher lithograph, leading everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. “Where am I?” asked a bemused elderly lady I had stepped onto the platform with: “Howth Junction”. “Oh dear”. Relativity, M. C. Escher, Lithograph, 1953. Oh dear indeed. Where is the front of this ‘station’? I refuse to call it one: it is merely a set of stairs and a lift. Following signs to the exit I’m greeted with a dystopian Alice in Wonderland prospect of turning left into a car park and right along an overgrown, dirty footpath. I choose the latter; at least it might lead somewhere. The path to former station master's house, Howth Junction Dodging filth like the mad hatter, the elegant brick gables, stone lintels and terracotta chimney stacks of the former station master’s house can be spied amongst a wilderness of ivy, grass and razored-fencing. Forlornly neglected, the graceful merging of Classical ped