Category Archives: Architectural History

Handy for Methodists




A number of derelict outbuildings are all that now remain to indicate the former Coolalough estate in County Westmeath. In the mid-18th century, this property was owned by Samuel Handy who, after being introduced to the Wesleys, became a fervent advocate of Methodism, so much so that he named his son Samuel Wesley Handy. When in Ireland John Wesley regularly came here to stay and proselytise. On late July 1752, for example, he left Dublin and, after preaching in five places en route, arrived at Coolalough, ‘where he met many of his friends from all parts. This was probably the beginning of the quarterly meetings, which were held here for many years, to which the Methodists resorted from far and near. An abundant provision was made by Mr. Handy for their entertainment, and they were generally seasons of great spiritual enjoyment.’ Of the Handys’ house, there now appears to be no trace.




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Scenes from a Cathedral’s History


‘In 1561 Armagh was in possession of the English who fortified the cathedral, making it a place of arms as a check upon O’Neill. Shane, in revenge, attacked and captured the city, burning it, with the Cathedral and the Franciscan Monastery; his excuse for this wanton destruction being “that he would not have the English to lodge therein.” Camden writes, “In our memory, the church and city of Armagh were so foully defaced by the rebel, Shane O’Neill, that they lost all their ancient beauty and glory, and nothing remaineth at this day, but a few small wattled cottages, with the ruinous walls of a monastery, priory, and the primate’s palace”.’
From the Ulster Journal of Archaeology, Volume II,  October 1895.





‘Immediately after Dr Robinson’s promotion to the primacy [1765], he determined to repair the cathedral, to which purpose he appropriated a considerable sum…His Grace commenced his improvements by slating the western aisle which had been previously shingled, and by fitting it up in a more complete manner for divine service. It is to be lamented that in effecting this latter object, he removed the ancient and beautiful tracery windows which had adorned the building and substituted inelegant lights in their place (since superseded). About the same time, he presented to the choir a new organ, possessed of many stops, and of most pleasing and powerful tones…In 1782, ” Primate Robinson had determined to build a tower on the cathedral of Armagh, in imitation of that of Magdalen College, in Oxford. His architect, Mr. Cooley, examined the walls and gave his opinion as to the practicability of the undertaking. The work went on till the close of the year 1783. The tower, which was to have been elevated 101 feet in height, had been, at this period, raised 60 feet above the roof of the church, when the north-west pier and the arches springing out of it shewed symptoms of giving way by over pressure. Precautions were instantly taken, arches built up in the body of the church, and additional buttresses joined. Thus aided, it was deemed by the best architects fully sufficient to bear the proposed tower: the more ponderous part of the building having been already raised, and three-fourths of the whole weight placed on piers and arches duly and powerfully supported. Some old ladies, however, who were in the habit of regularly attending divine service, imagined that the entire fabric would tumble and bury the congregation in its ruins. Their fears spread and the church was in danger of being deserted. Primate Robinson then ordered the new tower to be pulled down, even to the roof of the building from whence it sprang, that is, to the very spot from which the old one, carrying its spire, cross and weather-cock had been removed. Thus ended the Magdalen steeple.’
From Historical Memoirs of the City of Armagh, by James Stuart (1900)





‘Lord John George Beresford succeeded to the Primacy in 1822, and to him may properly be ascribed the beautiful appearance which our venerable Cathedral presents to the eye of the beholder. At what period it was constructed, in the form which it has come down to tho present time, is a matter of great uncertainty. Inglis writes that it is the ” oldest Cathedral Church in Ireland. Part of this venerable edifice was erected in the reign of Henry III, and the remainder part in the time of Edward III.” Shortly after his promotion to the See, his Grace determined to repair the ancient structure, and Mr. Cottingham, an eminent architect, was instructed to examine the building. That gentleman, having minutely examined it, gave a most favourable report of its condition, stating that about £8,000 would put it into serviceable order. This sum his Grace at once consented to pay. The foundation stone of one of the piers was laid in great solemnity on 21st May, 1834, in presence of about 0,000 persons, who came to witness the interesting ceremony. During divine service, the Cathedral Choir, assisted by an instrumental band placed on an orchestra, temporarily fitted up, performed the Dettingen Te Deum, and several anthems from the Messiah.’
From Record of the City of Armagh, by Edward Rogers (1861)


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And Speaking of Ruins



At Coola, a mile to the north of Kilbeggan, County Westmeath and beside the river Brosna stand the remains of a once very substantial corn mill complex. Seemingly, it was initially started c.1770 by the Fitzpatrick family, who also had another such enterprise not far away at Ballynagore. The property was sold in 1781 to the Connollys who greatly expanded both the business and the buildings: by 1790 more flour was being produced here than at any other mill in Westmeath, sending 4,693 tonnes to Dublin.  Further development occurred in the early decades of the 19th century when oatmeal and barley were also milled on the site. Although predominantly utilitarian in design, there are some decorative flourishes such as the brick crenellations on one five storey block, at the base of which is the shell of a cottage with arched door and windows and hooded mouldings. The mill remained in operation until the 1970s, since when it has fallen into its present condition.



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The Country for Ruins

Lackeen Castle, County Tipperary

A request to speak at a forthcoming academic event exploring various perceptions of ruins has led the Irish Aesthete to consider, not for the first time, what might be the particular appeal of historic buildings that have fallen into decay, and why there are so many of them in this country. ‘To delight in the aspects of sentient ruin might appear a heartless pastime,’ Henry James confessed in Italian Hours (1873) ‘and the pleasure, I confess, shows the note of perversity.’ Tumbling roofs and crumbling walls have long exerted a particular appeal, as was noted by Rose Macaulay in her wonderful 1953 book Pleasure of Ruins when she rhetorically enquired ‘what part is played by morbid pleasure in decay, by righteous pleasure in retribution…’ The morbidity of ruins without doubt helps to explain their attraction: in a state of decay, they allow us to engage in romantic speculation which may or may not be accurate. There are certainly many opportunities to engage in such hypothesising in Ireland. In some instances, they can be wonderfully picturesque, a fact highlighted by the clergyman and author William Gilpin who in 1782 published his highly influential book, Observations on the River Wye, and Several Parts of South Wales, etc. Relative Chiefly to Picturesque Beauty; made in the Summer of the Year 1770. Among the points he made was that in landscape painting the presence of a ruined castle or abbey would add to the work what he called ‘consequence.’ The truth of this observation had already been made apparent in the previous century by a number of French artists – Poussin, Claude Lorain, Dughet – based in Italy where they produced paintings in which ruins were often a notable feature.

Clonfert Palace, County Galway

Rappa Castle, County Mayo

Dromore Castle, County Limerick

Graffan House, County Offaly

Works such as those painted by the likes of Poussin et al are known to have had a critical influence on the design of both British and Irish country house landscapes in the 18th century, when the pictures were bought by Grand Tourists and brought back home where parklands and demesnes were laid out to look like them. Sometimes, to enhance the view, they even incorporated artificial ruins as was the case in a number of properties around the country. At Belvedere, County Westmeath, for example, the ‘Jealous Wall’ was constructed. Some 180 feet long, this theatrical sham ruin dates from c.1760 when commissioned by Robert Rochfort, first Earl of Belvedere. Seemingly, it was built in order to block the view south towards Tudenham Park, a house further along Lough Ennell which had been erected some years before by the earl’s younger brother, George Rochfort, with whom he had quarreled. The earl might simply have asked for a high wall, but instead opted for one that romantically looks like the remains of an ancient castle. At Heywood, County Laois – where the grounds were laid out by owner Frederick Trench installed a number of fake ruins in the 1770s, including what appear to be the remains of a ruined medieval church, incorporating a traceried window thought  to be 15th century and to have been brought from the former Dominican friary at Aghaboe, some twelve miles away. Towards the end of the 18th century, the demesne at Lawrencetown, County Galway was similarly enhanced by the addition of a number of follies, including a Gothick eyecatcher, intended to suggest the remains of an otherwise lost building. Back in County Westmeath, at Killua Sir Benjamin Chapman acquired some of the stonework from a medieval Franciscan friary at Multyfarnham and around 1800 used this material to create a charming ‘ruin’ visible from the garden front of the house. 

The Jealous Wall, Belvedere, County Westmeath

Heywood, County Laois

Lawrencetown, County Galway

Killua Castle, County Westmeath

Even without the addition of fake examples, Ireland has never been short of ruins. The observations of  German writer and geographer Johann Georg Kohl who visited Ireland in 1841 have been cited before. ‘Of all the countries in the world’, he wrote, ‘Ireland is the country for ruins. Here you have ruins of every period of history, from the time of the Phoenicians down to the present day…down to our own times each century has marked its progress by the ruins it has left. Nay, every decade, one might almost say, has set its sign upon Ireland, for in all directions you see a number of dilapidated buildings, ruins of yesterday’s erection.’ What this suggests is that the Irish have a particular affinity for decay and dilapidation, given that the stock of ruined buildings seen by Kohl has only further increased since his time, although too often these additions could not be described as picturesque or romantic. Last week, the Irish Times reported on two substantial 19th century houses in Phibsborough, Dublin which in 2009 were added to the city council’s list of derelict sites. A decade later, after the buildings had fallen into still worse condition, they were compulsorily purchased by the authority which then announced plans to restore them for use as social housing. Now, after a further seven years of decline, the council has announced that the cost of undertaking such a restoration would be excessive and that there were currently ‘no plans’ for the properties. Of all the countries in the world, Ireland retains its title as the country for ruins.

Ightermurragh Castle, County Cork

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A Partial Restoration



In the first decades of the 19th century, many old places of worship in Ireland were restored or rebuilt thanks to funds from the Board of First Fruits. In Lorrha, County Tipperary, St Ruadháns church is thought to have been constructed on the site of the early monastery founded by the eponymous Ruadhán in 540. On the south wall, an arched doorway features a carved head which may represent Walter de Burgh and have been taken from the nearby Augustinian Abbey (see Former Greatness « The Irish Aesthete). Below it, a pointed doorway with decoration was added in the 15th century; it is decorated with rose motifs, vine leaves and a pelican drawing blood from its breast. According to Samuel Lewis writing in 1837, the building had been ‘recently repaired by a grant of £113 from the Ecclesiastical Commissioners.’ While the nave was left a ruin, the chancel was restored to provide a church suitable for a relatively small congregation.



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In the Gallery


‘Over the Supper Room is the Picture Gallery, of the same dimensions, containing many fine Paintings by the first masters, with other great Ornaments, chosen and displayed with great elegance; the Ceiling is arched, and highly enriched and painted, from designs by Mr WYATT. The most distinguished Pictures are, a Student drawing from a Bust by REMBRANDT; the Rape of Europa by CLAUDE LORRAINE; the Triumph of Amphitrite, by LUCCA GIORDANO; two capital pictures of Rubens and his two Wives, by VAN DYCK; Dogs killing a Stag; a fine Picture of Saint Catharine; a Landscape by Barratt; with many others. In a bow in the middle of one side, is a marble Statue, an Adonis, executed by PONCET; a fine bust of Niobe, and of Apollo, are placed on each side. In the Windows of the Bow, are some specimens of modern stained Glass, by Jervis.’
James Malton, c.1795





Today occupied by Dáil Éireann and Seanad Éireann (the two houses of Ireland’s parliament), Leinster House was originally commissioned in 1745 by James FitzGerald, 20th Earl of Kildare, and future first Duke of Leinster, as his Dublin townhouse, the largest and grandest such residence built in the city during the 18th century. Designed by Richard Castle, the house was intended to hold a picture gallery on the first floor, but this work was not undertaken before the architect’s death in 1751 and towards the end of that decade a second proposal for the room was produced by Isaac Ware. Based on a scheme published by Ware in Designs of Inigo Jones and others (1731), this was likewise unexecuted. The gallery remained an empty shell until 1775 when the second Duke of Leinster commissioned fresh designs from James Wyatt, and these are what can still be seen today. In that year, the duke married Emilia Olivia St George, only daughter and heiress of Usher St George, first Baron St George. The new duchess brought a substantial art collection with her, and the need to have a space in which these could be shown to best advantage gave a certain urgency to the matter. As executed, Wyatt’s proposals included inserting additional windows into the north side of an existing bow window (above which is a shallow half-dome) and dividing the shallow elliptical vault into three sections, all of which are decorated with elaborate neo-classical plasterwork. As described by Professor Christine Casey, the ceiling’s centre holds a chamfered octagon within a square and at each end a diaper within a square, each flanked by broad figurative lunette panels at the base of the coving and bracketed by husk garlands and garlands of leafy ovals. Between are ribs with attenuated tripods, urns and arabesque finials.’ The scheme’s coherence is illustrated by the inclusion of a pair of white marble chimneypieces with high-relief female figures on the uprights and putti marking the division between beaded spandrels enclosing urns and griffins, and then similar motifs being employed in pewter and gesso on the doors.





Following the Act of Union in 1800 and the death of the second duke four years later, Leinster House was scarcely used by the family and so in 1815 the third duke sold the property to the Dublin Society (later Royal Dublin Society). Many of the picture gallery’s contents were moved to the family’s country house, Carton House, County Kildare where alterations to accommodate the collection were made by Richard Morrison; many of the artworks were subsequently sold as the fortunes of the FitzGerald family declined in the last century. Meanwhile, the Dublin Society converted the room in which they were once displayed into a library, Francis Johnston inserting a gallery above the line of the window heads, although this was removed in the late 19th century. Following the establishment of the Irish Free State in 1922, the Dail was housed – temporarily, it was thought – in the RDS’s lecture theatre, a large hall which had been completed a quarter century earlier. In 1924, the society sold the entire property to the government for £68,000 and moved permanently to the site it still occupies in Ballsbridge. Leinster House’s former picture gallery was then adapted with virtually no structural alterations to accommodate the Seanad, which it has continued to do ever since.


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Commemorating the Living



Rather unusually, this monument was erected while the person to whom it paid honour was still very much alive. In 1829, the Barrington family decided to put up a free-standing limestone column in Limerick city celebrating its popular MP, Thomas Spring Rice, future first Lord Monteagle (he would only die in 1866). On a plain limestone ashlar cylindrical base approached by three steps, the fluted Doric column designed by Henry Aaron Baker carries a statue carved by Thomas KIrk (also responsible for the figure of Admiral Nelson that once stood atop his own column in Dublin) showing the subject dressed in robes and looking towards a terrace of six houses, the only part of the scheme for a splendid square in this part of Limerick that was completed as intended in the 1830s.



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Disrobed



Tucked away in an eastern corner of a garden behind the former bishop’s palace in Kilkenny is this charming little pavilion. Its construction is attributed to the writer and antiquarian Richard Pococke who lived in the main house 1756-65 while serving as Bishop of Ossory (although some sources attribute it to Charles Este, who held the same office 1735-40, and then went on to commission a new episcopal palace in Waterford). Inside the single room pavilion is a chimneypiece flanked by arched plaster recesses, the walls on either side panelled in wood. A door on the south side formerly opened into a Doric colonnade which in turn led to a door in the north transept of St Canice’s Cathedral, thereby allowing the prelate to move from one building to the other without stepping outdoors: in the early 19th century, architectural purists decried the colonnade as being out of keeping with the medieval site and it was removed. As for the pavilion, it has long been called the Robing Room, suggesting this was where the bishop donned the appropriate garments before taking a service in the cathedral. More likely it was simply intended to be a summerhouse and indeed this was how the building was described by a later Bishop of Ossory, William Newcome who in 17775 wrote that it was ‘of a very good size with a fireplace, fit for drinking tea or a glass of wine.’ The Robing Room underwent restoration some 20 years ago when the palace, vacated by the Church of Ireland, was being prepared for its current occupant, the Irish Heritage Council.  


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Rare Survivors



Carlingford, County Louth is one of the few towns in Ireland to retain evidence of its mediaeval origins, not least thanks to this entrance gate: originally there were four but this is the only survivor. From the 15th century, the Tholsel operated as a toll gate where taxes were levied on any goods entering Carlingford, but in the 18th century it also acted as a gaol for the town. Once three storeys high, it lost one of them during alterations in the 19th century.
Not far from the Tholsel stands another mediaeval building known as the Mint. Although Carlingford was granted the right to mint coinage in 1467 it is more likely this three-storey building was a residence for one of the town’s wealthy families: however, the absence of a fireplace in the building leaves this matter open to question. The most notable feature are its five ogee windows. All have hood mouldings and are elaborately carved with a variety of forms including that of a horse, a bust of a man, a bird, a snake, as well as a variety of abstract Celtic interlace patterns.


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The Subject of Dispute


In the early 1670s, an unseemly dispute broke out between members of the Franciscan and Dominican orders over which of them were entitled to occupy a priory in Carlingford, County Louth. Following appeals by both sides to Pope Clement X, Oliver Plunkett, then Roman Catholic Primate of Ireland, was required to settle the matter and in July 1671, following a visitation to the site, he wrote the the Papal Internuncio, ‘I find that the monastery formerly belonged to the Dominicans and that they had a convent there, the walls of which are still standing. But the Franciscans argue that for many years, and almost within the memory of man, the Dominicans were not permanently in these convents, that therefore they must be considered as abandoned, and that a prescription now exists in favour of the Franciscans. The Dominicans answer that during persecution prescription is of no avail.’ Following further consultations, Plunkett decreed in favour of the Dominicans, declaring that they had produced the authority of Ware [the historian Sir James Ware, ironically a Protestant], who says that the convent of Carlingford, under the patronage of the Earl of Ulster, belongs to the Dominicans. They, moreover, produced an instrument of the 10th year of Henry VIII, by which a citizen of Carlingford named Mariman made over a house and garden to the Dominicans of the convent of Carlingford. Again in the Dublin Register, called Defective Titles, mention is made of this convent, and they also adduced the evidence of old persons who had seen Dominicans residing near the convent before the reign of Cromwell.’ Nevertheless, the Franciscans refused to relinquish their claim, and it was not until 1678 that the matter was finally settled when Clement’s successor, Innocent XI, issued a Papal decree ordering that the Dominicans be left peacefully in the monastery.




Carlingford Priory is traditionally said to owe its origins to Richard Óg de Burgh, 2nd Earl of Ulster, who in 1305 invited the Dominican Order to settle in a site within the town. On the other hand, the Irish Historic Towns Atlas records, however, that the Dominican priory was endowed by the merchants of Carlingford in 1352. Whatever the truth, it certainly thrived although, having initially stood within the town walls, following a decline in population during the mid-14th century as a result of the Black Death, the buildings came to lie immediately outside Carlingford to the south. Dedicated to St Malachy, like so many other religious establishments in Ireland, the priory was fortified during the 15th century, as a result of almost constant warfare between different familial alliances. In 1540, when the priory was surveyed as part of the Dissolution of the Monasteries, it was described as a ‘strong mansion in need of no expenditure on repairs’ and being on ‘every side strongly fortified.’ In 1552, the property, along with others formerly held by religious orders in Newry, was granted by the English crown to Sir Nicholas Bagenal, Marshall of the Army in Ireland. How long he and his descendants held the former priory is open to question since by 1613 a number of Franciscan friars were in residence, hence their later altercation with the Dominicans over which order was entitled to be there. The latter may have won that fight but they do not appear to have lingered too long in the priory, described by a visitor in 1703 as being an old chapel and monastery in ruins and in 1726 the place was ‘defaced’ by William Stannus, then in the process of constructing Ghan House to the immediate north. In 1767 the Dominican friars moved to Dundalk, which remained their base thereafter. Meanwhile, over the next couple of centuries parts of the old friary came to serve various purposes: as a base for local herring fishermen, as a barracks and as a handball alley. 




Today, what remains of the Dominican Priory of St Malachy is the church, a tall and narrow shell being 125 feet long and 22 feet wide. Like so many others, the roofless building is divided into two sections of nave and chancel, the transition from one to another marked by a bell tower which was added in the 15th century. This was likely when the west wall of the building was crenellated, with a square turret at each corner and between them a machicolation resting on corbels. Between this and the small door is evidence of a blocked-up round arched window. The same is true for many of the openings on the north and south sides of the building. Where windows remain, they have lost everything but their outline; this is especially evident at the east end, which was once almost filled by a great arched window some 15 feet wide. Nothing of great consequence survives of the conventual buildings which would have stood to the immediate south of the church, with a cloister off which would have opened a number of spaces including refectory, kitchen and dormitories. All now gone, with just the gable end of a now-lost building, perhaps added during the Bagenal period of occupation and attached to what looks like the lower part of a tower house.. A short distance to the east are scant remains of a water-mill, and what may have been a fish-pond. Hard to believe that this spot was once the subject of fierce dispute between two religious orders.

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