Haunted Houses


All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the doorway, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table, than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.




The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.

We have no title-deeds to house or lands;
Owners and occupants of earlier dates
From graves forgotten stretch their dusty hands,
And hold in mortmain still their old estates.

The spirit-world around this world of sense
Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere
Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense
A vital breath of more ethereal air.

Our little lives are kept in equipoise
By opposite attractions and desires;
The struggle of the instinct that enjoys,
And the more noble instinct that aspires.




These perturbations, this perpetual jar
Of earthly wants and aspirations high,
Come from the influence of an unseen star,
An undiscovered planet in our sky.

And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud
Throws o’er the sea a floating bridge of light,
Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd
Into the realm of mystery and night,–

So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.



Remembering all those lost during the present pandemic in Ireland and around the world: “We meet them at the doorway, on the stair, along the passages…” Haunted Houses by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(Derelict Farmhouse in County Meath) 

Bath Time


The recent death of the conscientiously eccentric 7th Marquess of Bath serves as a reminder that for a long time his family, the Thynnes, owned a large estate in County Monaghan, including the east side of Carrickmacross. Evidence of their former presence can be found in the town, such as here on what is now called St Joseph’s Terrace but was originally known as Weymouth Cottages (Viscount Weymouth being one of the Thynnes’ titles). Single storied, with dormer attics, they are made from the local limestone with curious, intermittent insertions of sandstone. Beneath the bargeboard and above each entrance is a small plaque featuring a marquess’s coronet and the letter B (for Bath) as well as the date 1870 to advise when the buildings were constructed.


*New video on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRPj6b6KCss&t=22s

Whim in All His Improvements


On August 25th 1732, the future Mrs Delany (then the merrily widowed Mrs Pendarves) embarked on a journey from Navan, County Meath to Cootehill, County Cavan. She wrote in her journal, ‘travelled through bad roads and a dull, uninhabited country, till we came to Cabaragh, Mr Prat’s house, an old castle modernized, and made very pretty: the master of it is a virtuoso, and discovers whim in all his improvements. The house stands on the side of a high hill; has some tall old trees about it; the gardens are small but neat; there are two little terrace walks, and down in a hollow is a little commodious lodge where Mr Prat lived whilst his house was repairing. But the thing that most pleased me, was a rivulet that tumbles down from rocks in a little glen, full of shrub-wood and trees; here a fine spring joisns the river, of the sweetest water in the world.’





The ‘Mr Prat’ to whom Mrs Pendarves refers was Mervyn Pratt, a sometime Member of the Irish Parliament representing County Cavan. His father, Joseph Pratt, had been one of two brothers who moved from Leicestershire to Ireland in the mid-17th century, both of them settling in County Meath. However, Joseph made an advantageous marriage to Elizabeth, only daughter and heiress of Col. Thomas Cooch (or Couch) who owned estates in Counties Donegal and Cavan. When he died in 1699, he left his property in the latter county to his grandson Mervyn Pratt, then aged 12. The heir duly settled on his inheritance and married Elizabeth, daughter of a neighbour, the Hon. Thomas Coote of Bellamont, County Cavan. At Cabra (spelled ‘Cabaragh’ by Mrs Pendarves), the couple’s home was an old castle, built at the start of the 17th century by Gerald Fleming (who had in turn been granted territory previously held by a branch of the O’Reilly family). This was the building which was ‘modernized and made very pretty.’





Today the castle at Cabra is just one of a number of buildings constructed or improved by Mervyn Pratt. A walk through the site today leads first to his former stable block (see first set of pictures), popularly known as the Barracks. A long, two-storey gabled block the east side features a series of lunettes resting on a string-course; most of these have been blocked up but two are open as part of doorcases into the building. Nothing remains of the interior. To the west and on higher ground are the remains of the extended old castle, primarily consisting of two four-storey towers, that to the south likely the original Fleming residence. Again, almost nothing survives of the interior, but somehow in the newer block there remains intact one plastered niche, as well as evidence of an adjacent cantilevered staircase. From this high spot, the land begins to drop and, past a typical domed and recessed icehouse, the path leads down to a lake beside which stands what’s left of the ‘little commodious lodge’ where Mervyn Pratt lived while the castle was being restored and enlarged. It has been proposed by Kevin Mulligan that this building (as well as the stables) were designed by Sir Edward Lovett Pearce and originally featured a broad pedimented façade inspired, via the work of Lord Burlington, by Palladio’s Villa Valmarana at Vigardolo. As elsewhere, not a lot remains and indeed at least half of the building no longer stands; the central portion has lost its pediment and, given a flat, utilitarian roof, is now used as a store shed. But at least here, enough does survive for the original concept to be apparent.





The Pratts remained in possession, but perhaps not in residence at Cabra for the rest of the 18th century; in his Statistical Survey of the County of Cavan (1802) Sir Charles Coote while enthusiastic about the improvements undertaken by Mervyn Pratt and his successors in the local town of Kingscourt, was much less engaged with the demesne and buildings at Cabra. ‘The ruins of the old castle,’ he wrote, ‘which was the family mansion, are contiguous to the house, but quite too near to have any pleasing effect, which such pieces of antiquity afford in the landscape.’ Sir Charles was far more enthusiastic about the landscape and house at nearby Cormy (‘very beautiful, and formed with great judgement and true economy’) owned by Henry Foster who was then undertaking to transform a standard Georgian house into a romantic Gothic castle. However, before this work was finished, Cormy was sold to Colonel Joseph Pratt who abandoned the old family old home and renamed the new one Cabra Castle. This remained in the ownership of his descendants until 1964 and has since been used as an hotel. Meanwhile the older Cabra estate fell into neglect until acquired by the national Forest and Wildlife Service in 1959. Today it is run by Coillte (the state forestry body) and open to the public as Dún a Rí forest park.

Last Rites



In its present incarnation, St Kieran’s, Modreeny, County Tipperary dates from 1828 when erected with assistance from the Board of First Fruits. However, immediately to the west, and beyond the church tower, are the remains of an older, probably medieval church, which is the large, ivy-covered wall seen in the first photograph above (the east end of the 19th century church is shown in the second picture). The building remained in use for services until 1987, when closed although, as so often in Ireland, the surrounding graveyard remains, so to speak, ‘active.’ Unlike elsewhere, St Kieran’s was not dismantled, and many of the old wall memorials remain in situ, but it is gradually falling into desuetude (the broken windows don’t help).


Heritage Cherished


Hard to believe but this is one of the most historic corners of Dublin, where St Mary’s Abbey links with Meetinghouse Lane. As the first of name indicates, it was the site of the medieval Cistercian Abbey of St Mary, the richest religious house in Ireland until the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Meetinghouse Lane derives from the fact that an early Presbyterian place of worship later stood here; it can be seen on Rocque’s 1756 Map of the city. Having been restored, the Chapter House of St Mary’s, the only substantial part of the old abbey to survive, was open to the public for a period, but then closed five years ago and has remained shut ever since. Meanwhile what remains of the old Presbyterian foundation has been incorporated into other buildings and put to other ignominious uses. The condition of the Victorian ground floor façade shown here is indicative of how the area looks.

Left Unfinished


The Etchingham family can be traced back at least as far as the mid-12th century when Simon de Etchingham was recorded as living in Etchingham, Sussex. Some two hundred years later, a descendant inherited Barsham Hall in Suffolk and from this branch would come Osborne Etchingham who served as Marshal of Ireland in the 1540s. He was the son of Sir Edward Etchingham, an English naval commander who 20 years before had been appointed by Henry VIII as Constable of Limerick Cathedral. A tradition of service to the crown ran in the family, which helps to explain Osborne Etchingham’s presence in Ireland in the aftermath of the Dissolution of the Monasteries. As a reward for his efforts, and in return for exchange with property he held in England, in 1545 he requested and received the lands of Dunbrody Abbey, County Wexford which had been suppressed nine years before. Dunbrody, of which considerable ruins remain, was a Cistercian foundation dating from the 1180s.



Osborne Etchingham died a year after receiving Dunbrody Abbey, so it is unlikely he ever spent much time there. He was succeeded by his son Edward, reported to be ‘of dissolute character’. He may have been responsible for converting Dunbrody Abbey into a residence, but it is unclear how much time he spent there since he was arrested by government forces for being involved with pirates, and is said to have died in the Tower of London in 1582. Dunbrody passed to his brother John, and then in turn to the latter’s son and grandson, both also called John. When the last of these died in 1650 leaving no sons but a daughter Jane, to whom the Dunbrody estate was specifically left by the terms of his will, thereby overriding an earlier entail. Her uncle Arthur Etchingham disputed the will’s terms, and even at one stage forcibly seized Dunbrody. However, in 1660 Jane Etchingham married Sir Arthur Chichester, future second Earl of Donegall and together the couple succeeded in securing their ownership of the property. The Chichester family, now Marquesses of Donegall, remain living in the area to the present time.



The remains of Dunbrody Castle lie some short distance from the old abbey. The building’s origins remain unclear, as it has been suggested that at least in part it is a medieval castle. However, more likely it dates from the first half of the 17th century and was constructed as a modern alternative to the converted abbey buildings. This suggests that either the penultimate or last John Etchingham commissioned the work, but that it was left uncompleted following the outbreak of widespread civil unrest from 1641 onwards. The castle consists of a rectangular bawn, with a substantial cylindrical tower on the east side and three similar but smaller towers on the west. Linking them are the bare bones of a long, two-storey house that appears to date from the 18th century, the frontage bearing the remains of weather slating while its roofline is castellated in brick (which may be a still later addition). Occupied at one point by the Chichesters’ land agent, the building was never a permanent home, which accounts for its odd appearance. Today the ruins provide the backdrop for a craftshop and yew maze.

Lineally Descended



Still in Nobber, County Meath and immediately to the east of the old railway line (see last Wednesday’s post) are the ivy-covered remains of a late-medieval tower that was once part of the church of St John, already ruinous by 1641; a small, 18th century replacement stands close by. Outside the latter and mounted on a wall is the Cruise Monument, now upright but once recumbent in the choir of the old church. It depicts a knight in full armour, with is sword to the right, and carries the inscription ‘HERE LIETH THE BODY OF GERALD CRUISE OF BRITTAS AND MARGARET PLUNKETT HIS WIFE, WHICH GERALD DID BUILD THIS MONUMENT AND IS HERE LINEALLY DESCENDED FROM SR MAURICE CRUISE WHOE DIED THE FIRST YEAR OF KING HENRY THE THIRD IN ANNO DOMINI 1216 TO WHOSE SOVLES GOD GRANT HIS MERCY AMEN 1619+’


End of the Line


The platform and what remains of the former station alongside the railway line that once passed through Nobber, County Meath. Operated by the Midland and Great Western Railway Company, the line opened in 1872 and ran between Navan and Kingscourt, County Cavan. Like a great many other branch lines, it was never particularly successful commercially but at a time when other forms of transport were limited, provided a valuable means of travel in this part of the country. The line was closed to passenger traffic in 1947 but continued to be used for movement of freight although this station closed altogether in 1963. The station has since fallen into its present dereliction but an adjacent warehouse is used for storing machinery.

A Very Sumptuous Establishment


A PhD thesis presented by Michael Ahern in 2003 (and subsequently published) explores the history of the Society of Friends, otherwise known as Quakers, in County Tipperary from the mid-17th to early 20th centuries. In the text, Dr Ahern notes how, ‘One of the most remarkable achievements of this persecuted minority, consisting of farmers, tradesmen and small business people, was the manner in which they triumphed over adversity and, in the course of time, became successful and prosperous members of the middle class. Participation in the affairs of their own Society provided a sound training which enabled members to cope with the business procedures of the secular world. Although the administrative meetings of the Society generally related to religious concerns, a large proportion of their activities was strictly practical in content and created an environment which cultivated business and administrative expertise.’ During the second half of the 18th century, one of the businesses in which they came to have a powerful presence was milling. Certain urban centres likewise became centres for this activity, among them Clonmel, County Tipperary.’ Legislation passed by the Irish parliament in 1757 offered financial incentives for the land carriage of corn to Dublin; for every five hundred-weight of flour brought to market, a premium of three pence per mile (excluding the first 10 miles) was paid. The result was an explosion in both the production of wheat and corn, and the establishment of mills, especially in areas like Clonmel, which benefitted from fast-moving water (in this case, the river Suir). Anner Mill, the first such Quaker operation, was opened here in 1771 by John Grubb, whose family would become synonymous with the industry. Many more followed, so that in 1797 when legislation was proposed to abolish financial incentives, the business was sufficiently well-established as to be in no need of subsidy: ‘The principal millers in the neighbourhood of Clonmell,’ declared John FitzGibbon, Lord Clare, ‘a part of the kingdom from which there is a considerable influx of corn to the city, do not complain of the bill; on the contrary many have declared that they will not suffer any loss from it.’






Of English origin, the Sparrow family had settled in Ireland in the mid-17th century and soon converted to the Quaker faith. They were based in the Wexford region where one of them, Samuel Sparrow, participated in the 1798 Rebellion and then fled to the United States, were he remained for the rest of his life. Long before then, at some date during the first decades of the 18th century, Richard Sparrow moved from Wexford to Clonmel where he established himself as a baker. His son, Simmons Sparrow, was more ambitious and, like many other members of his church, became involved in the area’s burgeoning milling industry. In 1778 he opened a large mill on the north side of Suir Island, which looked across to Clonmel’s quays and which could take advantage of the river’s fast-moving water. This building continued in operation until 1801 when it was destroyed by fire; eight years later the site was sold by the Sparrows to another Quaker, Thomas Hughes. In the meantime, Simmons Sparrow opened another mill to the immediate west of the town at Toberaheena while for a period in the mid-1790s his son Richard leased another two mills still further west along the Suir. Following Simmons Sparrow’s death the business was continued by Richard but he seems to have lived beyond his means and eventually lost everything, dying in Clapham, outside London in 1814 after which his estate in Tipperary was auctioned to pay the deceased’s debts.





In 1798, the American Quaker preacher and abolitionist William Savery visited this country and noted with dismay that ‘Friends in Ireland seemed to live like princes of the earth, more than in any country I have seen – their gardens, horses, carriages, and various conveniences, with the abundance of their tables, appeared to me to call for much more gratitude and humility, than in some instances, it is feared is the case’. While in Clonmel, where he stayed with the successful miller (and Quaker) Sarah Grubb, Savery visited the home of Richard Sparrow, judging it to be ‘a very sumptuous establishment indeed, which I did not omit to tell him was quite too much so’, his stables being fit for a nobleman. The house in question was Oaklands, seen in today’s photographs. Little information exists about the building, the fine entrance to which was shown here last Saturday. Of three storeys over basement, it has four bays, with a central breakfront accommodating two and a plain limestone portico supported by paired Doric columns, behind which was a doorcase with fan- and substantial sidelights. The garden front featured a substantial canted bow and a flight of cast-iron steps giving access to one of the reception rooms. This was one of four such spaces on the ground floor of the ‘sumptuous’ interior, of which little now remains. Following Richard Sparrow’s financial collapse, Oaklands passed to the Rialls, another Quaker family involved in banking. However, within a few years their own fortunes suffered a setback when the bank, like many other such private establishments in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars, failed and was forced to close in 1820 (its premises, for a long time part of the Clonmel Arms Hotel, have stood vacant and awaiting redevelopment for some time). In due course they were followed by Colonel Pownoll Phipps, a fascinating character who – for reasons too complicated to explain here – had as a teenage boy found himself stranded with is siblings, but without their parents, in Revolutionary France, and had then gone on to serve in the British army in India under the future Duke of Wellington; he died at Oaklands in 1858 and the estate was, at least for a while, owned by his eldest son. It then passed through a succession of different hands, and was still occupied, but in poor condition, fifteen years ago, later standing empty. The inevitable consequence of this was that the house attracted the attention of vandals and finally was gutted by fire in October 2017, leaving it in the state seen today.