Tragedy of the Dundee Town House

Connor Bertie

Dundee Leisure and Culture

Dundee’s city centre could have looked so different if the campaign to save the centuries-old Town House had succeeded back in 1932.

The destruction of Dundee’s 17th Century Town House was a tragic loss to the city’s history and culture. For over a century the Caird Hall has stood as a testament towards the greatness of Dundee’s long-diminished ‘Juteopolis’ empire. Standing since as a concert hall, in the legacy of the Jute baron, Sir James Caird, its 14 palatial pillars still cannot replace what was once known to Dundonians as “The Pillars”: the Town House.

Commissioned in 1732 by Scottish architect, William Adam, to replace a rotting ‘Tolbooth’ – Dundee’s ancient town hall, which drew its roots back to c.1260 – Dundee’s then-new Palladian Town House was to be the modern centre structure for Dundee.

Through the 18th and 19th centuries, the Town House stood towering over many other buildings around it with its three stories and great 140ft spire, complete with a clock face on all sides. Rising from its front foundations were seven archways that led to the building’s loggia entrance. Dubbed by Dundonians as ‘The Pillars’, the loggia would serve as a place for shop fronts, a room for the town guard, and a convenient shelter to tackle Scotland’s famously poor weather.

Ascending towards the first floor on a turnpike staircase, a visitor would find both the residence of the Dundee Banking Company – now a part of RBS – and an apothecary, the first of which was robbed by a band of thieves in 1788. A daring undertaking, as both the Town House attic and basement – aptly nicknamed: ‘the thief’s hole’ – were used as prisons until 1836, and the second floor contained the sheriff’s courtroom. Had they been caught in the act, they may have had a very long stay.

Aside from a courtroom, the chamber doubled as a meeting room for the Guildry of Dundee; a luxurious room decorated with many paintings of important figures, and  chandeliers to match. The intended council chamber sat opposite this room, of similar grandeur and quality, but not completed until 25 years after initial construction; then used on occasion as a venue for concerts and theatre performances.

The Town House would have been an unmistakable sight for all Dundonians, and if around today, would have held a large cultural significance in Dundee; alas, this was not to be.

“Historians and architects continue to lament the fall of the Town House,” writes Historian and Journalist, Dr. Norman Watson, “but the clock cannot be turned back.”

And so the tragedy begins. When the Caird Hall was constructed in 1923 as a replacement council building, the Town House’s future was put into question, and ultimately determined for a sorrowful end. Coinciding with city architect James Thomson’s 1912 plans for a new city square, the city council were determined to remove the building entirely. Sir James Caird had agreed with this proposal, but was allegedly convinced by a Dundonian historian that saving the Town House was a good idea back in 1916; but died just days after this conversation, before he could give any such statement to Dundee City council. Thomson also protested greatly at the prospect of the Town House’s outright destruction several times, instead calling for it to be moved elsewhere to save the historic structure. Unfortunately, Thomson’s plea fell on deaf ears, and he died in 1927 having made no progress in saving it.

Dundee Leisure and Culture

However, the saviour’s baton was passed from local to national figures, as the government body, His Majesty’s Order of Works, informed Dundee City council of the Town House’s imminent protected status under the 1913 Ancient Monuments Act, declaring it legally indestructible. This was to come into play when it reached its 200th birthday, in 1932, but was brought forward in order to stop its destruction.

Astonishingly, despite all the protests and legal hurdles in their way, the council remained unmoved, and proceeded with the demolition of the Town House anyway; officially condemning it on January 20th, 1932. The year it would turn two centuries old. Despite acting against the government on this matter, little was mentioned about it after-the-fact, seemingly being buried with the rubble of the Town House.

“In any case one of its [clock] faces ended up set into concrete in a South Road garden,” Dr. Watson continues, “panelling at Dens Park football stadium is said to have come from the Adam building, its chandelier was hung in the council chambers and its stones were numbered and taken away…but where? Maybe they were enumerated in anticipation of James Thomson’s idea to remove the Pillars stone by stone across the High Street where it “could have been marvelled at from every compass point” – a proposal ultimately rejected by the town council. The majestic bridge proposed by the prescient Thomson, which would not have blighted the city centre as our present bridge does, was also rejected by blinkered councillors.”

Had the Town House been relocated to Thomson’s suggested place next to St. Mary’s church (now the site of Primark within the overgate shopping centre), it likely would have been a hallmark of Dundee: a marvel to behold, and a relic approaching 300 years of history.

More on the subject and of other parts of Dundee can be found in the book: ‘Lost Dundee’, and in Dr. Watson’s book: ‘My Dundee: A Short History Book’.

A plaque dedicated to the Town House sits like a gravestone in the city square where it once stood, its life span of 200 years etched in stone. A model of the iconic building can be seen on the exterior of Pillars Bar on Crichton Street next to the Caird Hall, paying tribute to Dundee’s lost history.