Accentuate the Positive




For a great many people, 2023 has not been an easy year, so let’s end it by accentuating the positive, at least as far as Ireland’s architectural heritage is concerned. Here are six good news stories featured here over the past twelve months, the first three private initiatives, the second involving properties in public ownership. In County Offaly, a young couple are pluckily taking on the restoration of Cangort Park, a handsome early 19th century villa designed by Richard Morrison (see: A Work in Progress « The Irish Aesthete). Likewise, the owner of Barntick, thought to be the oldest continuously inhabited house in County Clare, has embarked on ensuring the building has a viable future (see: Of Very Considerable Importance « The Irish Aesthete). And in County Roscommon, another young couple are gradually working hard to turn Edmondstown into both a family home and a viable business (see: Another Cheering Story « The Irish Aesthete).
On the public front, the Office of Public Works continues to make improvements at the Ormond Castle in County Tipperary, a building distinguished by its elaborately plastered 16th century Long Gallery (see: All that is Fantastically Eccentric in Architecture « The Irish Aesthete). In County Wicklow, Coillte (an organisation with which the Irish Aesthete often finds fault) reopened Avondale after an extensive restoration of the house (see: In the Highest Perfection « The Irish Aesthete). And in September it was announced that the Irish state had bought Dowth Hall and its surrounding 550 acres in order to establish a new national park: fingers crossed that essential work is speedily undertaken on the house (with its ravishing rococo stuccowork) at the centre of this estate (see: Second Time Around « The Irish Aesthete).
Occasionally, there is good news to report:: let us all pray much more of it will be forthcoming in 2024.



Seasonal Thoughts


‘What means soever may be used for the procuring of Unity, or Settlement, in a Country, Men must at the same time be careful not to deface and dissolve the Bonds of Christian Charity; nay of humane Society, since acting to the contrary, is but to dash the second Table against the first; and so to consider others, as of this or that Persuasion, and to treat them ill upon that account, is to forget that they are Men; and indeed to me it seems full as unreasonable to destroy other People, purely because they cannot think as we do, as it is for one man to ruine another, because the outward Figure and Shape of his Body is not the same with his own.’
The Rev George Story (1691)


The Irish Aesthete wishes all friends and followers a Happy and Safe Christmas

In Anticipation…


In anticipation of next Monday, here is one of the windows found in St Manchan’s, Boher, County Offaly. This little church takes its name from a local saint and houses a 12th century reliquary, St Manchan’s Shrine, believed to have held his bones (alas, for unexplained reasons the shrine was not on view during a recent visit). But the building also has a series of five splendid stained glass windows commissioned in 1930 from the pre-eminent artist then working in the medium, Harry Clarke. This one shows St Anne, traditionally held to be the Virgin’s mother, with her young daughter, in turn the mother of Christ. 

A Monument to Past Follies


Follies, the name given to buildings that serve no purpose other than to delight the eye, were as popular in 18th century Ireland as they were in other parts of Europe during the same period. James Howley’s invaluable The Follies and Garden Buildings of Ireland (1993) notes that part of the charm of these buildings lies in their inconsistency, their failure to comply with recognisable categories of style. ‘In one sense, their designers are architecture’s greatest plagiarists, happy to quote unashamedly from anything good that is going, with a rather cavalier attitude to time and geography.’ Even reaching consensus on what qualifies as a folly is something of a challenge, although in Monumental Follies (1972) Stuart Barton rather neatly summarised them as ‘foolish monuments to greatness and great monuments to foolishness.’ In the same year as this work appeared, the late Mariga Guinness claimed that Ireland had more follies to the acre than anywhere else in the world, and while that assertion has yet to be put to the test, it is certainly true that this country has an ample supply of such buildings, although alas many of them have now fallen into a ruinous state. One such folly can be found in Nurney, County Kildare.





Curiously not mentioned by Howley, the Nurney Folly, like so many of its kind, sits on a rise so that it can be seen from some distance and also offers views over the surrounding countryside. The lower part of the structure is square and built of rubble stone, with openings at the centre of each side. The interior, a single chamber, is lined in brick, with a brick floor and a vaulted ceiling which has a small opening at its centre. To what would have been the rear of the folly, where the land drops steeply towards a tributary of the river Barrow, there is a lower floor, with two openings. Most likely this was a storage area where food and drink could be prepared by servants for those visiting the room above. On top of that space rises a great brick octagon, considerably taller than the square base on which it rests. On this level there is only one opening, facing north. From the ground, no trace of a roof can now be seen. Who was responsible for commissioning the building appears to be unknown. The nearest owners of a substantial property were the Bagot family who lived in Nurney Castle (since demolished), so perhaps the folly was constructed for them. They remained in Nurney until the mid-1830s but had departed by the time Samuel Lewis published his Topographical Survey of Ireland in 1837 when the property was occupied by one J.W. Fitzgerald Esq. It transpires that Nurney Castle’s previous resident, Captain Charles Bagot, had emigrated with his family to Australia: in Adelaide they built a new home, which in memory of their old one, they called Nurney House. 





In design, the Nurney Folly bears similarities with two others in this country, one at Waterstown, County Westmeath (see The Wings of the Dove « The Irish Aesthete), the other at Emo, County Laois (see Deep in the Woods « The Irish Aesthete). Although more elaborate in their decorative detail, both feature octagons resting on square bases, and both have been attributed to Richard Castle, suggesting they were built during the second quarter of the 18th century. Noble & Keenan’s map of Kildare, produced in 1752, shows the folly, indicating that it is of the same period as the other two. The earliest Ordnance Survey map, dating from the late 1830s, describes the building as a Pigeon House (and the surrounding area as Pigeonhouse Hill). It may be that the upper portion of the folly was used for this purpose, as was also the case at Waterstown, while the lower part served as a destination in the demesne of Nurney Castle, a place in which to pause and take tea (or something stronger). Or it could be that by the time of the survey was being undertaken, the original purpose – or lack of purpose – of the folly had been forgotten and therefore this function was given to it. Whatever the case, today it stands forlorn on the edge of the village, a monument to the follies of earlier generations. 

Tales of the Unexpected



Designed by J.J. McCarthy in 1867, the Church of the Nativity in Kilcormac, County Offaly appears to differ little from a multitude of other such buildings constructed during the same period throughout Ireland. The interior, however, contains a couple of surprises, one of which is a 16th century polychromatic carved oak Pietà, thought to have come from mainland Europe. Local legend has it that at the time of the Cromwellian Wars, when Catholic churches were under attack, the sculpture was hidden for safekeeping in a nearby bog. Many years later, just before the last of those responsible for concealing the work died, he was able to say where it lay. It has remained in Kilcormac ever since, except, apparently for one short period when a curate who was moved to another parish decided to take the sculpture with him: a number of parishioners carried out a rescue mission and returned it to the church.
The Pietà may have come to Kilcormac thanks to the Mac Amhalghaidhs (anglicised as Magawly), once a prominent family in the area who lived at Temora House (destroyed by arson in 1930). A monument at the rear of the church lists the achievements of a number of them, beginning with Philip Magawly who, having left Ireland in the late 17th century joined the Imperial Habsburg army and rose to the rank of Field Marshal before being created a Count of the Holy Roman Empire. This title descended to his great-nephew and so down the line to the fourth count, who, as the monument notes, was assassinated by members of the Young Italy movement in March 1856 in Parma where he was serving as Chamberlain to the Duchess-Regent, her husband having similarly been assassinated two years earlier.


A Feature on the Landscape


Currently on the market with some 70 acres, Landscape House, County Waterford is thought to date from c.1790 when it was owned by the Congreve family: their main residence, Mount Congreve, lies some 20 miles to the south-east.  On a raised site overlooking the south bank of the river Suir, it’s a relatively small building, three bays and two storeys over basement, and was perhaps intended to serve as a dower house or perhaps a residence for a land agent. Samuel Lewis in his Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (1837) refers to it as a seat of the Congreves, but it may have been let. Certainly, in 1853 Captain Charles Boycott rented Landscape House for a year before he moved to Mayo where he became agent for the then-Earl of Erne and, owing to subsequent events, unwittingly bequeathed a new word to the English language. 




Landscape is a curious building, both grand and yet modest. Like other small country houses of the period, it borrows features from larger properties in order to indicate the owner’s aspirations. Here, for example, on either side of the front, symmetrically curved curtain walls conceal modestly-proportioned yards, each of which holds a single-storey pavilion, the interior of which is lit by a generously-proportioned arched Gothick window (one of these pavilions was discreetly extended some decades ago and turned into guest accommodation). The curtain walls and pavilions pay  homage to Palladian grandeur, but on an altogether less ostentatious scale. Current taste is acknowledged, even emulated, without being precisely copied. 




The interior of Landscape House manifests the same stylistic traits found outside, not least an aspiration to magnificence. The building was originally T-shaped, with three rooms to the front on each floor and behind them one very substantial room closed by a great three-bay bow that offers views down to the river. Seemingly in the 1940s, the areas on either side of the bow were filled in with flat-roofed, single-bay extensions in order to create more space inside the house, hence its present appearance. With its half-conical slated roof and lines of windows, those on the ground floor especially substantial, the rear of Landscape must have looked quite remarkable before alterations were made. It would then have had a very distinctive character, one that paid homage to contemporary architectural taste while simultaneously proposing an alternative option. And still today, the house lives up to its name by being a noteworthy feature on the landscape. 

An Unhappy Trinity



Currently for sale: this trio of former almshouses on the outskirts of Glanmire, County Cork. Each slightly different from the others, the buildings, designed by an unknown architect in neo-Gothic style with lattice glazing and triangular Oriel windows, are thought to date from the 1820s and built on the instruction of the Colthurst family, perhaps Sir Nicholas Colthurst who until his death in 1829 served as Member of Parliament for nearby Cork city. Sadly, all three have been left to fall into their present dilapidated state and are now in need of complete renovation. They are available for €140,000 each.


Inside the Pale


The Order of Knights of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, otherwise known as the Knights Hospitaller, was a Mediaeval military order founded in the 12th century. The order came to have a number of bases, called preceptories, in Ireland, one of which was located at Kilteel, County Kildare. There seems to be some confusion about when this was established, and by whom: it may have been Gerald FitzMaurice, first Lord of Offaly, who died in 1204, or his son Maurice FitzGerald, the second lord who died in 1257. It must have been an important centre for the order, since three general chapters were held there during the 14th century. However, with the onset of the suppression of religious orders in the 16th century, Kilteel Preceptory was surrendered to the English authorities in 1540 and two years later granted to Thomas Alen, brother of Sir John Alen, Lord Chancellor of Ireland. Thereafter it fell into decay and little now remains of the buildings other than a few truncated stone columns, parts of a former gatehouse and the outline of a substantial enclosure. More impressive are the adjacent ruins of Kilteel Castle.





Kilteel stands on the boundary of the Pale, that area around Dublin which in the later Middle Ages remained under the control of the English government. Famously, in order to provide protection for its inhabitants, in 1429 King Henry VI offered a grant of £10 to every man within the Pale who built a castle over the next ten years. These castles, usually square or rectangular and several storeys high, are commonly known in Ireland as tower houses, and while they were being constructed prior to the king’s grant – and are similar to the Peel Houses found on the border separating England and Scotland – many of them date from the 15th century onwards. Such would appear to be the case with Kilteel Castle, which measures around 26 by 20 feet and rises five storeys to a height of 46 feet. The building is distinguished from many other examples by a curved projecting staircase in one corner and beside this a two-storey gate house with arched entrance. Immediately behind the tower houses is a large rectangular space, now used as a farmyard but perhaps demarcating the former bawn enclosure. An image published in the Dublin Penny Journal in October 1833 shows a two-storied gabled house, perhaps dating from the 17th century, on the other side of the gatehouse. Some of the outer walls of this building survive, sections of which are fronted with slates. 





Like the Knights Hospitallers preceptory, Kilteel Castle passed into the hands of Thomas Alen in the 1540s and his family appear to have remained owners of the property until the second half of the 17th century (although, according to Samuel Lewis’s Topographical Dictionary of Ireland, they were still claiming tithes there in 1837). However, repeated attacks on the building took their toll on its condition. It was raided and burnt by Rory O’More in both 1573 and 1574 but presumably remained in sufficiently good condition for the 11th Earl of Kildare to station 50 horsemen and 100 foot soldiers there in 1580 during the Second Desmond Rebellion. But in the aftermath of the following century’s Confederate Wars, the Civil Survey of 1654-56 could report that the parish of Kilteel contained ‘One Castle…wch in the year 1640 was valued to be worth sixty pounds butt being since ruined is now valued at ffourty pounds.’ In the second half of the 17th century, Kilteel Castle came into the possession of the Earl of Tyrconnell but following his support of James II the property was taken from him and acquired by the Hollow Sword Blade Company before being sold on in turn to Sir William Fownes. His descendants in turn disposed of Kilteel in 1838, by which time the old castle had long since ceased to be used as any kind of residence. 

Almost Identical Twins



The entrance gateway to the now-demolished Lissadorn, County Roscommon. Extant photographs show this to have been a fine house of three bays and three storeys over raised basement, possibly late 18th or early 19th century in construction. The design of this neoclassical triple archway, thought to date from c.1825, has been attributed to the Roscommon architect Richard Richards, not least because at that time he was working at Mount Talbot, some 25 miles to the south. The unfortunate history of that house has already been told (See An Unhappy Tale « The Irish Aesthete), and, as if to confirm that Richards designed the Lissadorn entrance, it is almost identical to that at Mount Talbot, the only difference being that the former lacks the keystones seen in the latter’s arches.