A Very Superior Style of Sculpture and Architecture


‘Abbey of Sligo: A monastery was founded in this town A.D. 1253 by Maurice Fitz Gerald, then Lord Justice, under the invocation of the Holy Cross, for friars of the Order of St. Dominick. It is seated pleasantly, on the river Gitley, and near the sea.
In 1270, 1360, and 1394, the town was destroyed by contending factions, and the monastery pillaged; and in 1414 there were but 20 Friars resident in it. The next year the whole pile was consumed by fire. This misfortune being represented to Pope John XXIII, then present at the Council of Constance, he issued the following Apostolic letters:’ 






‘ “John, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to all Christian believers, who shall see these present letters, salvation and apostolic blessing.
It having been represented unto us, that the church and house of the Dominicans at Sligo, in the diocese of Elphin, in which it is affirmed twenty brothers have long devoutly served God, were lately burnt by fire, and that the prior and some of the brethren of the order desire to repair said church and house, a work of considerable expense, the means to defray which they do not possess. We, consulting the honour of said church, and willing that it should be repaired, that the faithful may resort thither more freely for devotion, and be desirous to contribute more liberally towards its repairs when they shall find themselves replenished with celestial gifts: relying, as we do on the mercy of the Omnipotent God, and by the authority of his blessed apostles, Peter and Paul, do compassionately relax ten years, and as many forty days of penance (decem annos et totidem quadragenas) enjoined on all penitents and those who have confessed, on the feasts of the assumption of the blessed Virgin Mary and St. Patrick shall devoutly visit the aforesaid church, and contribute to its repairs.
Our will is, that if there is any indulgence, either for ever or for a certain time, granted by us, to those who shall visit and assist in repairing said church and house, that it shall from henceforth be null and void. Dated at Constance, the 16th of the Calends of February, in the 5th Year of our Pontificate, A.D. 1415”.’






‘The present building was now begun in a very superior style of sculpture and architecture. Among its principal benefactors were O’Conor, Lord of Sligo, and Peirce O’Timony, a man of considerable wealth and property, whose statue was placed in the cloister. There are two large chapels, divided by a square belfry: the tower is entire, except the battlements at the top. The arches are lofty, and enriched with foliage and angels. The three sides of the cloisters are covered by an arched roof. The front and sides of the altar are ornamented with Gothic arches, foliage, and tracery, and there are pedestals for statues. The eastern window is very beautiful, and a stone gallery surrounds the nave. Several feet from the ground is the tomb of O’Conor and his lady, kneeling on each side of an altar. The Gothic arches, fluted pillars, and multiplicity of minute and curious ornaments, make us wonder at the high degree to which the arts of sculpture and architecture were now carried, and particularly how much money could be procured for the accomplishment of such a work in a country torn by rebellion and domestic dissension, as was the case with Ireland at this time… An inquisition, on the 27th of Elizabeth, finds this monastery had a church, a steeple, cemetery, and two other stone buildings, a fishing weir, with some parcels of land.’ 


From The Antiquities of Ireland by Francis Grose, Vol. I (London, 1791)
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Castle Hackett


Castle Hackett, County Galway dates back to the 13th century when, as the name indicates, it was built by the Anglo-Norman Hacketts who had arrived in the country during the previous century and mostly settled in the south-east (for example, in County Carlow, where the settlement of Hacketstown testifies to their presence). By the 15th century, the castle had passed into the possession of the Kirwan family, one of the 14 Tribes of Galway and the only one to be considered of Gaelic origin. They continued to occupy the building until the early 18th century when a new house, also called Castle Hackett, was constructed nearby: this was burnt by anti-Treaty forces in 1923 but subsequently rebuilt. As for the old castle, still surrounded by portions of a bawn wall, it makes for a striking ruin on the landscape.


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Of Napoleon’s Toothbrush and Other Matters


One of the oldest institutions in this country, the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland dates back to 1654, although its first royal charter was granted by Charles II in 1667. The man behind this initiative was John Stearne who, like many other characters during this period, was able to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances and thereby survive and even flourish. Born in County Meath in 1624, Stearne had attended Trinity College Dublin and became a scholar there, but left without taking a degree around the onset of the Confederate Wars in 1641, when he moved to England. There he spent time first in Cambridge and then Oxford, returning to Ireland a decade after he had left it and becoming a fellow of Trinity College Dublin. The university had been given a dilapidated building on nearby Dame Street by the city’s corporation but lacked funds to restore it: In 1654 Stearne persuaded college authorities to hand the property over to him, on the understanding that he would convert it ‘unto the sole and proper use of physicians’ where he would act as life president. It says much about his persuasive charm that Stearne’s proposal should have been accepted, that he then managed to secure donations for the building’s refurbishment before riding, seemingly without problems, over the transition from Commonwealth to Restoration, and then ensure that the organisation he had established should receive royal approbation. Two years after this was achieved, Stearne died just days before his 45 birthday (one wonders whether he was familiar with the maxim ‘physician heal thyself’). Happily, the college survived. Initially it was known as the Fraternity of Physicians of Trinity Hall, but after receiving a second royal charter from William III and Mary II in 1692 , it was renamed the King and Queen’s College of Physicians in Ireland, retaining this title until 1890 when the present title was formally adopted. Once the direct link with Trinity College was broken following the grant of a second charter, the physicians became homeless and this remained the case for more than the next century, meeting in the homes of successive Presidents. However, a hospital opened on Dublin’s Grand Canal Street funded by a substantial legacy the College of Physicians had received from Sir Patrick Dun following his death almost 100 years earlier in 1713. This hospital, named after Dun, included a meeting room and accommodation for the college’s library, but  in the new hospital. Nevertheless, the physicians still wanted their own substantial premises, and this finally became possible in 1860 when the Kildare Street Club, which had occupied a couple of houses on Kildare Street since the 1780s, offered to sell these buildings to the College.






Just four months after taking possession of its new home, the college suffered a setback when the Kildare Street buildings were almost entirely destroyed by fire. Fortunately, the property was insured and this meant that the physicians, instead of having to spend money adapting what had once been two private residences into a public institution could instead start afresh with a building designed for their specific purposes. Six architects were invited to submit proposals, the winner of the commission being William G Murray, whose practice was responsible for many banks, insurance companies, railway stations and so forth. While the facade of the college underwent some modifications when the original sandstone was replaced by Portland stone in 1964, inside remains much as it looked when first completed in 1864, Professor Christine Casey noting that today the building’s sequence of rooms ‘is among the best-preserved Victorian interiors in the city.’ A flight of steps in the vestibule leads to the top-lit, double-height stair hall with grand imperial staircase: this space introduces visitors to a long processional axis running like a spine through the centre of the building. At the top of the staircase and occupying the entire street frontage is the library, originally conceived as two spaces, a library and a museum, but now one room lit by five windows. Meanwhile, down off the central landing, a long colonnaded corridor leads to the first of two great meeting rooms, the Graves Hall. This was part of Murray’s original design, a double-height space lwith ribbed coved ceiling, the walls of which are lined with Corinthian pilasters between which hang a collection of portraits on the west wall and twin light windows on the east. At the north and south ends and flanking the chimneypieces are white marble statues on plinths: these represent four former presidents of the college, including Sir Dominic Corrigan who was responsible for negotiating the purchase of the site and the fund-raising required after the fire. Corrigan can also be given the credit for a further extension to the building, this time designed by McCurdy Mitchell in 1873.  This area at the rear of the old houses had previously been filled by the Kildare Street Club with a racquet court and other rooms. Another long barrell-vaulted and colonnade corridor now led to the second great hall, today named after Corrigan, its walls lined with a further collection of portraits. 






The RCPI is home to many extraordinary objects. The library, for example, contains over 20,000 books, pamphlets and journals, primarily but not exclusively focussed on medicine, including Sir Patrick Dun’s own library, bequeathed to the college in 1713. Likewise many of the portraits, busts and statues represent doctors and physicians, but not all of them. There are medical instruments dating back to the 18th century and later. Then there is the extraordinary Quin Tassie collection, consisting of 26 drawers of more than 1,700 miniature gem casts and moulds imitating antique models and believed to have been created in the 18th century by the internationally renowned Scottish gem engraver James Tassie working with his mentor and patron, Irish physician Henry Quin; it was donated by his family to the college in 1926. Finally, and perhaps most extraordinary of all the items held by the college, is Napoleon Bonaparte’s toothbrush. As is well known, when the former emperor was exiled to the island of St Helena, he was attended by an Irish doctor, Barry O’Meara. He had served as a surgeon with the British Army in Egypt and Sicily, before being court-martialled for acting as a second in a duel in Sicily. O’Meara then entered the Royal Navy as an assistant surgeon, ending up in St Helena where, according to Napoleon in Exile: or, A Voice from St. Helena, a best-selling memoir he published in 1822 a year after the emperor’s death, O’Meara was bequeathed various mementoes, including the aforementioned toothbrush with a silver gilt handle stamped with the letter ‘N’. Today, it can be viewed, along with much else, in the Royal College of Physicians. 


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Playing Peekaboo




After Monday’s post about Ardfinnan Castle, here are the remains of a religious house found a little to the south on the other side of the river Suir. This is known as Lady’s Abbey, a Carmelite friary dating from the early 14th century and most likely closed down just over 200 years later during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Little survives other than the walls of the church which has a nave separated by a central tower from the chancel concluding in a two-light east window. A south transept also contains a window, the jambs of which feature a carved head, one of a bearded man, the other looking distinctly unhappy, perhaps because he and his companion are now almost lost in the dense ivy that covers so much of the building.




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An Impression of Grandeur and Picturesqueness



For many years, the Irish Aesthete has driven past a castle in County Tipperary and wondered about its history. No need to wonder any more: the Irish Penny Journal, Vol.1, No.44, published in May 1841 carries a long and somewhat rambling account of the history of this building, Ardfinnan Castle. It stands on the site of, or close to, a religious settlement said to have been established in the seventh century by Saint Finian (hence the name Ard Fhíonáin, meaning ‘Fíonán’s height’). The journal’s anonymous author comments that ‘the traveller must have been a dull and unobserving one who, journeying between Cork and Dublin by way of Cahir, has not had his attention roused by its romantic features and an impression of its grandeur and picturesqueness made upon his memory, not easily to be effaced. Ardfinnan is indeed one of the finest scenes of its kind to be found in Ireland, and is almost equally imposing from every point of view from which it can be viewed. The Castle crowns the summit of a lofty and precipitous rock, below and around which the Suir winds it way in graceful beauty, while its banks are connected by a long and level bridge of fourteen arches which tradition states is of coeval erection with the fortress and which, at all events, is of very great antiquity. On every side the most magnificent outlines of mountain scenery form the distant back-ground; and every object which meets the eye is in perfect harmony with the general character of the scene.’ Rather like the river Suir, the text further meanders before explaining that Ardfinnan Castle was constructed in 1185 by Prince John, ‘of whom it has been remarked that he achieved nothing during his stay of eight months in Ireland but the construction of this and two other castles, namely Lismore and Tiobrad Fachtna, now Tibraghny on the Suir, which he erected with a view to the conquest of Munster. From these castles he sent parties in various directions to plunder the country; but being met by the Irish under the command of Donall O’Brien, Dermod Mac Carthy and Roderick O’Conor, they were defeated with great slaughter, four knights having been killed at Ardfinnan, after which John was glad to return to England.’ 






When the Irish Penny Journal text appeared, Ardfinnan Castle had fallen into ruin but serious damage to the building had only occurred in the 17th century. Long before then, the castle had a close association with monastic military orders,  first the Knights Templar and then the Knights Hospitaller. Ardfinnan’s first Governor, the Cambro-Norman knight Maurice de Prendergast, was also Grand Prior of the Knights Hospitaller in Ireland and in 1177 he had granted Prendergast Castle and surrounding land in his native Pembrokeshire to the order. A large circular keep immediately inside the castle’s bawn wall and beside the main gateway is said to have been constructed by the Knights Hospitaller in the early 13th century. Alterations occurred c.1450 when a square, four storey tower house was built on the south-east corner, directly above the river. The military order remained here until the upheavals of the 16th century, after which it passed through several different hands, at one point both Theobold Butler, Lord Caher and the Bishop of Waterford and Lismore disputing rights of ownership. The real trouble began during the Confederate Wars when the castle was held by its Governor, Captain David Fitzgibbon, a descendant of the White Knights and married to the widowed Joanna Butler, member of the area’s most powerful family. In early February 1659 Fitzgibbon was resident in Ardfinnan with a small force when it came under attack by the Cromwellian general Henry Ireton. Initially he was able to hold out, but once Ireton brought cannon onto a hill opposite the castle, its walls were breached his troops were able to gain access, and Fitzgibbon obliged to surrender: while his life was spared, his lands were confiscated and he was transplanted to the west of Ireland. Meanwhile, before Ireton’s army moved on and in order to ensure the castle could not fall back into the opposition’s hands, it was deliberately left in a state of semi-ruin. By 1654, the property had once again returned into the possession of the Bishop of Waterford and Lismore, and was leased to another member of the extensive Butler family. Despite its poor condition, once more because of its position above the river Suir and owing to the ongoing threat of a French invasion, in 1795 the British government began to use the castle as an army barracks and continued to do so until 1802. 






In Samuel Lewis’s invaluable Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (1837), the castle at Ardfinnan is described as a ruin occupying a picturesque and elevated site above the Suir, consisting of a fortified gateway and the greater part of the exterior walls which, then as now, are roughly parallelogram in form. Engravings, such as that published in the Irish Penny Journal four years later, show Lewis’s summary description to be correct. This might have remained the case, had not a branch of the Prendergast family, thought to be descendants of Maurice de Prendergast, first Governor of the castle, taken on the property along with 15 surrounding acres. Theresa Cornwallis J West, in her book A Summer Visit to Ireland in 1846 (1847), wrote that she saw ‘scaffolding and ladders, and workmen busily repairing the damages of time; building up walls and putting in windows.’ Much of what can be seen today therefore dates from this period, when the old castle became a family home. The interiors, with their stone chimneypieces and stained glass in some of the windows, represent the taste of the mid-19th century. Meanwhile, immediately below and beside the Suir, John Mulcahy, whose father-in-law owned a similar business elsewhere in the county at Rossmore, developed a woollen mill which had ancient origins, believed to date back at least to the era when the 12th century. For a long time, the building was hugely successful, employing large numbers of local people and exporting tweeds across the world: when Edward VII – who already wore Ardfinnan cloth – came to stay at Lismore Castle in 1904, he paid a visit to the mill. It continued in operation until 1973 when the mills closed down, many of its buildings now standing empty. More than half a century earlier the Mulcahys had bought the castle and made further alterations, including the addition of a flat-roofed wing at the south-west corner as well as rewiring and plumbing the property, adding bathrooms and a heating system. While remedial work has recently been undertaken on the main roof and elsewhere, little has otherwise changed, as the castle and some 17 acres of surrounding land now come up for sale. This is such an important building, with such a long and remarkable history, that it deserves to find a sympathetic new owner, one who will appreciate the necessity of ensuring Ardfinnan Castle’s future. It took many years for the Irish Aesthete to see the place, but this was well worth the wait.



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For the Infirm



The former County Infirmary in Armagh city. As designed by George Ensor, work began on the building in 1767, but was only completed in 1776 with the south wing overseen by architect Richard Louch and carpenter John Harvey. Of two storeys over-basement and nine bays, it has a three bay  breakfront with substantial pediment. The facade is  coarse rubble with cut limestone used for door and window surrounds and the quoins. Originally, there were a pair of Gibbsian entrances, one  located on either side of the breakfront but that to the right was moved to the centre early in the last century. That to the left can be seen still in situ, although now a window and making the building unsatisfactorily lopsided. Various additions were made to the hospital in the 19th and 20th centuries before it closed in 1991 and the site adapted for other purposes.   



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A Sadder Sight than One would Think



‘It was a sadder sight than one would think,
To see that ruined church upon the hill,
Deserted, dreary, lone and desolate;
But then its spire would point to heaven still.
Like standard-bearer wounded in the fight,
Who, with his last remaining strength, upholds
His nation’s banner; so this dying church,
In its last hours, seemed bent on saving souls.

‘Twas sad to see the windows broken through;
But then they let God’s air and sunshine in:
The church, once closed to keep all errors out,
Now seemed as if it prayed more light to win.
And early spring-birds entered fearless there,
Within the church-pale unconverted came,
And built their nests within the pulpit’s shade,
And never dreamed there could be any blame…’





‘I wondered if the ancient fathers slept
In peace, within the churchyard just away,
While this, their pride, their consecrated dome,
So all unheeded crumbled to decay;
And more, if creeds escape while churches fall,
If they’ve no broken doors and windows, too,
By time’s or progress’ hand,—through which the light
Of higher truths comes brightly streaming through.

I climbed with fear the staircase weak and old,
That tottered like a ship by tempest driven,
And wondered if the saints had feared as much,
When through its creed they groped their way to heaven;
And stood within the galleries that ran
From end to end, and bent and gazed below
With heart that trembled like the saints of old,
Lest all should crumble, and I “sink to woe.”…’





‘And, as I gazed, and thought how sad that now
No feet of worshippers its old aisles trod,—
Alike forsaken by its builder, man,
And him to whom they gave, its owner, God;
I heard the voice of children in their mirth,
A group of little faces gathered there,
All unbaptized, some fresh from God’s own hand,
Who played and sported where they knelt in prayer.

I lingered till the human angels passed,—
Until the sun was growing faint and dim,
When, soft and sweet, amid the, stillness there,
The birds—Heaven’s choir—began their vesper hymn;
And while I listened to their “Te Deum,”
That made the ruin with its echo ring,
I said, “Not half so sweet the anthems loud,
That many souls in dim cathedrals sing!”‘



Extracts from The Ruined Church by Achsa Sprague (published posthumously, 1864)
Photographs show the ruins of Coolaghflags church, County Kilkenny, a late mediaeval chapel which was enlarged c.1750.

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Spot the Difference


A little detail likely missed by most of the car drivers and pedestrians hurrying past the Garda Station at the junction of Pearse and College Streets. The Scottish Baronial building dates from 1915 when constructed by Office of Public Works architects as a new central barracks for the Dublin Metropolitan Police. It has two entrances, one triple arched for rank-and-file constables, the other a single wide porch for Inspectors. The difference between the two is amusingly indicated by the carved stone figurative stops on either side of the doorways.


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A Reawakening


Regular visitors to this site will know that the Irish Aesthete is always delighted to learn of an historic property undergoing restoration, especially when this work is being tackled by private owners who intend to make the property a family home. Such is the case with the building seen here today: Knockelly Castle, County Tipperary. They have written a brief but helpful account of the site, which is reproduced below.  




‘Knockelly is reputed to have been built by Edmund Fitz James Butler, 8th Baron Dunboyne for his second son Piers, with work commencing in c.1465. The castle remained within various lines of the Butler family until 1592, when Peter Oge Butler rebelled against the crown, and Knockelly was granted to Patrick Grant, a nominee of the 10th Earl of Ormond. By 1602, Knockelly was the property of Sir John Everard (d.1624), who was most likely responsible for the c1610 renovations. Everard was admitted to the Inner Temple in London in 1578, called to the bar in 1590, but returned to Ireland and had been made Justice of the Liberty of Tipperary by 1601.
Knockelly was retained within Everard lines until Sir Redmond Everard, 4th Baronet, supported the failed Jacobite rising of 1715 and had to flee to France where he lived out his days. During Sir Redmond’s exile, funds were short and Knockelly was occupied by a series of notable tenants, including the Jolly’s, the Lowes and the O’Callaghans, until the castle and entire Everard patrimony, was acquired by Thomas Barton, a powerful wine merchant, in c.1751.
The Barton estate included Grove, an important house and lands to the south, and Knockelly may have served as an agent’s house for the estate. It is believed the 1830 renovations to the Gatehouse may have happened then. Knockelly was eventually let to James Kickham, one of whose daughters, Catherine, married a Patrick Heffernan. The Bartons, whose estate had been reduced from 5,000 to 500 acres, sold Knockelly between 1904-1906 to the Heffernans, who lived there until the present owners purchased the property in 2020.’




Across more than 550 years, Knockelly has served a variety of roles ranging from a magnate’s stronghold to a land agent’s residence and, prior to its present owners taking possession, a very substantial farmyard. But over that long period of time, it has been in the custodianship of just five families and perhaps this helps to explain why so much of the original structures have survived, not least the great tower house which last underwent remodelling in 1610. This stands within an expansive bawn which was built in 1560, the still-intact walls incorporating gun turrets, bartizans and, on the south side, a gatetower. The last of these began as a simple two storey building through which access was gained to the interior of the enclosure. Over time this was enlarged and embellished, most recently in 1830, and turned into a house but evidence of its earliest function can still be found inside along with other tantalising hints of the house’s gradual evolution. Indeed, as the owners note, ‘the diverse range of buildings, built in different centuries, from different fabric and designed for different functions’, means that Knockelly offers a rare insight into social and architectural changes through the centuries in Ireland since the late Middle Ages.




When the present owners bought Knockelly Castle six years ago, the majority of buildings on the site were in a semi-ruinous condition, as is the case in so many other locations throughout Ireland. And, without intervention since the property’s purchase, it is most likely that further and perhaps irreversible deterioration would have taken place. Thankfully that has not been the case and instead since 2022 a programme of gradual restoration has been underway, not least with the gatetower house which is now a family home. Work is slow, dependent on funds being available, and using materials and techniques which are most sensitive and appropriate to the structures. Employing primarily stone, wood and lime, and engaging with craftspeople trained in traditional skills, Knockelly is reawakening and being brought back to full use. As the owners emphasise, ‘there are no quick fixes. We work for the long-term.’ Benefitting from their own knowledge and that of the workers with whom they engage, they now run a number of onsite traditional building skills workshops so that anyone else interested in undertaking a similar project can benefit from their experience. Knockelly Castle was the deserved recipient of the 2026 Historic Houses of Ireland Heritage Award 2026, sponsored by Castleacre Insurance. 


For more information about the workshops run at Knockelly Castle, please see: Knockelly Conservation Workshops — Knockelly Castle

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Through the Gate




After Monday’s post showing the wonderfully restored walled garden at Glenarm Castle, County Antrim, here is the Barbican Gate. Located on the far side of a bridge leading into the village, the building dates from 1825 when designed by Sir William Morrison to accompany the transformation of the main house from a classical residence into a Tudoresque fantasy for his client, Anne Katherine Mac Donnell, Countess of Antrim. Like a miniature castle, the Barbican is replete with turrets, towers and battlements and over the main entrance can be seen a sandstone coat of arms which was originally on the facade of Glenarm Castle and records its construction by Randle Mac Sorley Mac Donnell, first Earl of Antrim and his wife Alice O’Neill. The Barbican Gate has been restored by the Irish Landmark Trust and is now available to rent for short stays. 




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