Constantly an Object of Contention


‘The castle of Ballintober, the chief seat of the O’Conors, in which Felim [Felim Geancach O’Connor King of Connaught, 1406–1474] spent most of his time, deserves more than a passing notice. This castle…was one of the principal strongholds of the Irish and does not appear to have ever been for any considerable length of time in the possession of the English. No record remains to show when it was first erected. According to tradition, it dates back to the time of Cathal Crovedearg, and to the reign of King John. It is first mentioned in the Irish annals about a century later, and between that time and the period at which we have now arrived it underwent many vicissitudes. It was frequently besieged, often partially destroyed, sometimes burned, then restored, and was constantly an object of contention between the rival chiefs…’ 





‘…The plan of the castle consisted of a quadrangular enclosure, varying from 277 to 264 feet in length, and from 245 to 247 feet in breadth.  It was defended by strong towers at each angle, and by two others, one at each side of the grand entrance, which opened upon an esplanade at the end of the ridge towards the east. The whole was surrounded by a broad fosse. On the south and to the east, the fosse was constructed to retain water; and even to the present day, on the former side, it accomplishes this purpose, and enough of water remains to show the object of its construction. On the two opposite sides, the ditches, deep, broad and cut into the rock, are at present quite dry; but as they lie below the level of the water, these also could on occasion be flooded. There appears to have been once a draw-bridge from the postern gate opening out on the crest of the ridge.
The grand towers are all polygonal, but there is a want of symmetry in their construction, no two agreeing in the number and length of their sides. The south-west tower presents six faces on the exterior, the north-west five, the north-east seven and the south-east six. The sides of the north-west tower are respectively in length, beginning at the west curtain, 22 ft 6 in; 9 ft 9 in; 11 ft; and 11 ft 7 in.
The south-east tower is about 30 feet in breadth, and it and all the towers are elongated towards the interior of the great court. The towers, especially the two to the west, had very substantial walls, through which, in the lower parts, there were loop-holes for defence; the upper stories being furnished with windows of habitable apartments. The interior of each has been for a long time in a ruinous state, the two to the east being completely gutted. In the north-west tower, some doorways, with lancets and flatly-pointed arches, in very pleasing proportion, remain in tolerable preservation; and a fire-place and chimney-piece, with arms bearing the date 1629, appear on the walls of the third story, but the floors of the upper stories have altogether disappeared…’





‘…From the earliest date at which any reference is made to it in history until its destruction as a habitable residence at the end of the seventeenth century, Ballintober castle appears to have been, with some interruptions, in the possession of the O’Conors, and their principal stronghold. When they divided into the two septs of O’Conor Don and O’Conor Roe, it became the residence of the former. In 1526 we read that Lord Kildare took the castles of Ballintober and Castlerea, and handed them over to O’Conor Roe, from whom they were taken the following year by O’Conor Don, aided by O’Donnell.
In 1571 Sir Edward Fytton, Governor of Connaught, again took the castles of Ballintober and Castlerea, and raised the latter to the ground, and Ballintober apparently remained in the hands of the English until the year 1581, when the Annals of Loch Cé inform us that “Ballintober, which the Saxons had, was given to Dualtach, son of Toole O’Conor.” This Dualtach was the nephew of O’Conor Don, and had set up in rivalry to him. Apparently the castle did not long remain in Dualtach’s possession as shortly after we find O’Conor Don again in occupation, and there he died in 1585. In this same year the castle and the lands adjoining it were surrendered to Queen Elizabeth by his son and successor Hugh O’Conor Don, who received them back under patent from the English sovereign. In 1598, the walls of the castle were battered down by O’Donnell, who having defeated the English at the Battle of the Curlieus, attacked O’Conor Don, and obliged him to surrender. Whether the castle was ever fully restored is doubtful; but as it appears from an ancient MS in the Ashburnham collection that a considerable portion of it was rebuilt by Sir Hugh O’Conor after O’Donnell’s attack, it is more than probable that he completely restored it…Charles O’Conor, the grandson of this Sir Hugh, was the last of the O’Conors who resided at Ballintober. Probably when he left it, it ceased to be inhabited, and became the ruin into which pillagers for well-dressed stones speedily converted it.’ 


Extracts from The O’Conors of Connaught: An Historical Memoir by Charles Owen O’Conor Don (Dublin, 1891) 

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The Butlers Did It (again)



A tower house dating from the late 15th or early 16th century, Grallagh Castle, County Tipperary, like so many other such structures in this part of the country, was for a long time associated with the Butler family: James Butler, tenth Baron of Dunboyne, bequeathed the property to his son in 1533. By the 18th century it had come into the possession of the Mansergh family. The partially ruined four-storey building is surrounded by some 100 feet of bawn wall still standing. On the exterior, there are bartizans in the north-east and south-west corners and a murder hole above the doorway on the west side. Inside, the ground floor has a barrel-vaulted ceiling and walls punctuated with arrow slits. A mural stairway leads to the upper floors featuring several two-light windows with window-seats, a fireplace and a garderobe.



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Having No Equal in the Three Kingdoms


Visiting Kilkenny Castle in 1699, English bookseller John Dunton enthused over the building’s gallery, writing that ‘for length, variety of gilded chairs, and the curious pictures that adorn it, has no equal in the three kingdoms, and perhaps not in Europe; so that this castle may properly be called the Elisium of Ireland.’ Were Dunton somehow to return to Kilkenny today, he would likely find the place unrecognisable, but would still judge the castle gallery as having no equal, certainly not in this country. 





The origins of Kilkenny Castle date back to the late-12th century when a defensive structure was erected on a site high above an important fording point on the river Nore. Likely of wood, it was replaced by a stone building around 1260, a square-shaped castle with a tower at each corner, three of which remain. Passing through various hands, it was seized by the English crown and sold to the Butlers in 1391: hitherto the family’s main base had been at Gowran, some ten miles to the east. Thereafter, Kilkenny became the centre of Butler operations, although the castle went through several periods of neglect. In the second half of the 16th century, for example, Thomas Butler, 10th Earl of Ormond, preferred to concentrate his energies on enhancing another Butler property in Carrick-on-Suir (see All that is Fantastically Eccentric in Architecture « The Irish Aesthete). However, his great-nephew James Butler, first Duke of Ormond and the latter’s wife Elizabeth Preston, lavished attention on Kilkenny Castle, creating the building so admired by Dunton at the end of the 17th century. 




An ardent royalist, James Butler went into exile in France with Charles II. Following the latter’s restoration in 1660, Butler was created Duke of Ormond, recovered his Irish estates and became the country’s Lord Lieutenant. While he and his wife spent much time in Dublin, they also turned their attention to the ancestral castle in Kilkenny where, inspired by what they had seen during their time in mainland Europe, they transformed the building and its grounds in the style of a French château. The garden was laid out in the fashionable Baroque manner, with serried lines of trees, statuary and fountains, and a classical banqueting house. Inside, an inventory made for the couple’s heir, the second duke, reveals that the castle held sets of tapestries, Turkey rugs and looking glasses, Dutch and Indian furniture and a huge collection of more than 500 paintings, the largest in the country with work by Dutch, French, Italian and English artists. Some of these items survive to the present day: six 17th century Dutch tapestries, part of a larger series telling the story of Decius Mus, a Roman Consul, can be seen in one of the rooms, while elsewhere several painted wooden panels carved with ribands and pomegranates are on display. While many visitors to the castle were awed by this display, not everyone felt the same way. In November 1709 Dr Thomas Molyneux arrived in the town and went to look at the building. While acknowledging that it was handsomely situated above the Nore, Molyneux declared that inside ‘there is not one handsome or noble apartment. The Rooms are Darke and the stairs mighty ugly.’ He was also critical of recent alterations to the main structure, thinking the handsome classical entrance from the Parade, along with a new range of buildings all ‘mighty ugly, crooked, and very expensive.’ 





Kilkenny Castle, as seen today, is primarily a 19th century construct. For much of the previous century, it had, once more, been little used and allowed to fall into a poor condition: by 1747, it was described as being like that of ‘a weather-beaten ship in a storm after a long voyage with all her cargo thrown overboard.’ Around 1770, the south wall of the old castle, which had already been badly damaged during the Confederate Wars of the early 1650s, was demolished, thereby breaking the previously enclosed courtyard and opening views to the parkland. Internally, other radical changes took place. The present Picture Gallery, 150 feet long and the finest surviving example of its kind in Ireland, was commissioned in 1826 by James Butler, first Marquess of Ormonde from local architect William Robertson, with further changes made in the 1860s by the firm of Deane and Woodward. Elsewhere, a suite of reception rooms on the first floor continues to reflect their mid-19th century decoration, with walls covered in French silk poplin originally made by Prelle of Lyons, on which are hanging paintings many of which are part of the original Butler family collection. The decoration here is based on photographs showing how the rooms looked in the 1890s. The Butler Marquesses of Ormonde remained in ownership, if not in occupation, of Kilkenny Castle until 1967 when the seventh and last holder of the title sold it for a nominal sum; many of the contents had already been dispersed at auction some 30 years earlier. Today the castle and grounds are owned by the Irish State and managed by the Office of Public Works which has gradually been restoring more of the interior which can be viewed by visitors. 


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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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King John was not a Good Man


King John was not a good man –
He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
For days and days and days…’
From King John’s Christmas by A.A. Milne

Historic buildings tend to attract myths, as anyone who has consulted the Dúchas national folklore collection can confirm. As an example, the number of properties in Ireland which Oliver Cromwell is held responsible for destroying would have required him to spend considerably longer than the nine months he did in this country. Similarly, the construction of a large number of Anglo-Norman castles here are often attributed to King John, although he only and briefly visited Ireland twice: the first time in 1185 when, as Lord of Ireland, he failed both to strengthen the administration of his lordship and to bring Norman colonists like Hugh de Lacy under royal control. His second visit in 1210, by which time he had become King of England, was more successful but very short, lasting two months. Nevertheless, in popular memory he is held responsible for commissioning many castles around the country, including that in Athenry, County Galway, even though he never made it to this part of the island and the castle was built some 20 years after his death in 1216.




Seemingly the earliest recorded association between Athenry Castle and King John can be found in John Dunton’s Teague Land: or A Merry Ramble to the Wild Irish published in 1698. According to Dunton, ‘When King John came into Ireland to reduce some of his rebellious people here, he built the town of Athenry, and environed it with a good stone wall to be a curb upon them in those parts.’ This association with the long-deceased monarch then became embedded in local mythology and when the peripatetic German Prince Hermann von Puckler-Muskau visited Athenry in 1828, after lamenting the wretched state of the town, he wrote that ‘Here stood a rich abbey, now overgrown with ivy, the arches which once protected the sanctuary lie in fragments amid the unsheltered altars and tombstones. Further on is a castle with walls ten feet thick, in which King John held his court of justice when he came over to Ireland.’ Likewise, a decade later the historian John O’Donovan, who worked in the Topographical Department of the first Ordnance Survey decided that Athenry seems to have been built by King John in the year 1211 to put down the Hy-Briuin, Hy-many and Hy-Fiachrach Aidhne, three most ferocious Connachtan tribes.’ On the other hand, the ever-reliable Samuel Lewis in his Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (1837) noted that Athenry was ‘the first town established by the De Burgos and Berminghams, the Anglo-Norman invaders of Connaught, and at a remote period was surrounded by walls, and became a place of importance.’ 




Meyler de Bermingham was the great-grandson of Robert de Bermingham, an Anglo-Norman knight who had arrived in Ireland in the early 1170s and settled in what is now County Offaly. In the 1230s, Meyler and his father Peter de Bermingham participated in the Norman invasion of Connaught. As part of this, the former built a castle by a fording point on the river Clarin at a spot known as Áth na Rí (Ford of the Kings), from which derives the name Athenry. As for the castle, set inside enclosure walls, it is a large three storey rectangular hall-keep with base-batter, with a basement that would have been used for storage, a great hall on the first floor and an attic above. The battlements date from the 13th century as do the arrowslits in the merlons. In the 15th century, these parapets were incorporated into gables at the north and south ends for a new roof. When first built, the castle’s entrance was at first-floor level, accessed via an external wooden stairs. Carvings on the exterior of the doorcase and inside two of the window openings feature floral motifs in a local style, transitional between Romanesque and Gothic and known as the ‘School of the West.’ The castle appears to have been abandoned in the 16th century and old photographs show it as a roofless ruin. However, in 1991, the Office of Public Works initiated restoration work on the site and it is now open to visitors during the spring and summer periods.


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Looking Back




Looking back over posts during 2025, the Irish Aesthete seems to have featured a lot of castles. Some of them are the real thing, dating back to the Cambro-Norman period, such as those above: Castlecarra, County Mayo (see Difficult to Locate without a Guide « The Irish Aesthete), Greencastle (see A Noble and Commanding Appearance « The Irish Aesthete)and Dundrum Castle (see Boldly and Picturesquely Seated « The Irish Aesthete), both County Down.




Some of them while commonly named castles, are actually tower houses from the late-medieval period, such as Balief Castle, County Kilkenny (see Beyond Balief « The Irish Aesthete) and Ballinlough Castle, County Offaly (see A Picturesque Eye Catcher « The Irish Aesthete) and Synone Castle, County Tipperary (see In Circles « The Irish Aesthete).




Some of them have been repaired or are undergoing restoration, like Barryscourt Castle, County Cork (see Reopened « The Irish Aesthete), Bremore Castle, County Dublin (see A Work in Progress « The Irish Aesthete) and Drimnagh Castle, Dublin (see Showing What Can be Done « The Irish Aesthete).



And finally, some are 19th century reimaginings of an ancient castle, such as Castlewellan, County Down (see A Somewhat Institutional Air « The Irish Aesthete), Johnstown Castle, County Wexford (see This Magnificent Building « The Irish Aesthete) and Belfast Castle (see Time for a Makeover « The Irish Aesthete). Are there further examples to be discovered and investigated in the year ahead? Without doubt, the answer is yes and the Irish Aesthete looks forward to doing so in 2026…

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In Circles



Synone Castle is another cylindrical tower house found in County Tipperary, not unlike that at Balief (see Beyond Balief « The Irish Aesthete) and Ballynahow (see Encircled « The Irish Aesthete). Surrounded by the remains of a bawn wall (within which stands a relatively new residence) and rising some 50 feet, the building is of four storeys with small openings on each floor and three machiolations at the top. There appears to be little information about the castle, said to have been built by the Butler family. 



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The Remaining Third




As its name indicates, Threecastles in County Wicklow was once the site of three fortified buildings, only one of which still survives, at least in part. While the history of this tower house is unclear, it is believed to have been constructed in the early 16th century when this part of the country came under the control of Gerald FitzGerald, eighth Earl of Kildare who was Lord Deputy of Ireland in the years until his death in 1513. Faced in local granite, the battlemented upper section of the three-storey building is missing, as is a substantial portion which once extended to the west.




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A Glebe House and a Castle



After last Monday’s post about the former 19th century rectory outside Rathkeale, County Limerick (see A Glebe House and a Castle « The Irish Aesthete) here are some images of its predecessor, located to the immediate west of Holy Trinity Church and to the south of the river Deel, on the outskirts of the town. A four-storey, late-medieval tower house, the building is now called Glebe Castle, thereby indicating its original function which presumably it retained until the new clerical residence was constructed in 1819. But seemingly it was also known as Chancellor’s Castle, since the rector of Rathkeale was also Chancellor of the Diocese of Limerick. By the time that Samuel Lewis published his Topographical Survey of Ireland in 1837, Glebe Castle had become home to the Rev. CT Coghlan, rector of the neighbouring parish of Kilscannel. At some unknown date, a single-storey block was added to east side of the castle, but more recently the present house has been built here. 



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This Magnificent Building


The Irish line of the Esmonde family is believed to be descended from Geoffrey de Estmont of Lincolnshire, one of the thirty Norman knights who accompanied Robert FitzStephen to land at Bannow, County Wexford in 1169. Seemingly, Estmont built a motte and bailey at Lymbrick in the Barony of Forth in Wexford, where his son Maurice constructed a castle on the same site. Following the latter’s death in 1225, this building was abandoned, his son John erecting another castle on a new site, which came to be named Johnstown Castle and which survived until 1945. The property remained in the possession of the Esmondes until the mid-17th century when, as members of the Roman Catholic Confederate alliance, they suffered expulsion: Oliver Cromwell is said to have spent a night here immediately prior to his forces sacking Wexford town in early October 1649. Johnstown Castle was subsequently granted to one of his troops, Colonel John Overstreet, but eventually in 1692 it was bought by John Grogan whose descendants lived there until 1945: in the early 1800s, the Grogans were the largest untitled landowners in Ireland, with estates running to some 20,000 acres. Presumably they occupied and perhaps enlarged a house already on the site, but no evidence of it is immediately apparent today, so thorough was the reordering of the building in the second quarter of the 19th century. Before then, one member of the family, Cornelius Grogan, became involved in the 1798 Rebellion, being made commissary-general of the local rebels;’ army. Whether he assumed this role voluntarily or under compulsion has remained open to question: at his trial, Grogan pleaded that he had been forced to take a nominal lead but had committed no overt act of treason. However, this was insufficient to stop his being hanged and beheaded, and for the Johnstown estate to be escheated by the British authorities: on payment of a substantial fine, it was recovered by the former owner’s youngest brother John Grogan.





As seen today (and visited on a singularly miserable, wet day), Johnstown Castle is largely the creation of John Grogan’s son Hamilton Knox Grogan-Morgan who in 1836 commissioned designs for both the building and its gardens from Daniel Robertson, although in Home Sketches (1852), Thomas Lacy wrote that the now-lost main staircase had been the work of English-born Thomas Hopper. Meanwhile, at Johnstown, Robertson appears to have been assisted by Wexford architect Martin Day, who signed many of the preparatory drawings for the building. A late exercise in fanciful Gothick, most of the castle is constructed of local shale, with the Carlow granite employed for quoins, and dressings around windows, doors and archways. The aforementioned Thomas Lacy devoted several pages to enthusing over the transformed castle, summarising it as ‘this magnificent building.’ Despite claiming that he dared not attempt a detailed description of its ‘elegantly furnished rooms, the ceilings, the rich and gorgeous papering, the magnificent curtains and drapery in general,; the mantlepieces and articles of vertu that ornament them; the splendid mirrors, the vases, the candelabra, the tables, chairs, sofas, ottomans, and the other indescribable articles,’ somehow Lacy managed to wax lyrical for several pages. The main hall, for example, he wrote ‘presents a massive and truly characteristic appearance; so much so, that if an intelligent person was brought thither in his sleep, he would, upon awaking, be at once convinced that he was within the hall of some grand castle or stately palace.’ In the library, ‘The furniture of this grand apartment is in keeping with its character; the chairs, sofas, tables and bookcases are all of the choicest and best description; this is such a room as Bacon, Newton, Locke or Walter Scott, would like to call his own.’ Of the dining room he declared, ‘oak panelling and carving can be seen; the darkness of the oak is finely relieved by the rich gilding of the ceiling and the other parts of the chamber. This room has a really gorgeous appearance, and reminds one of the House of Lords, which, in some measure, it resembles both in form and decoration.’ And so, despite protestations of inability to attempt an adequate description, Lacy goes on, room after room after room. 





Following Hamilton Knox Grogan-Morgan’s death, his widow Sophia married Sir Thomas Esmonde, so that, at least temporarily, the Johnstown estate reverted to the original family. The property was then inherited by the Grogan-Morgan’s elder daughter Jane, married to George Forbes, seventh Earl of Granard. In turn, Johnstown passed to the couple’s younger daughter Adelaide, wife of Lord Maurice FitzGerald, a younger son of the fourth Duke of Leinster. Following her death in 1942, the estate was inherited by her grandson Maurice Victor Lakin. Two years later, the contents of the castle, running to 1,187 lots, were sold at auction over a period of five days by Jackson, Stops & McCabe. Some 114 of the items on offer, about one-tenth of the total, were bought by the Office of Public Works, not least because in certain cases there were few other potential purchasers. For example, according to a contemporary report in the Irish Press, ‘It was hard to find bidders for some of the massive oak furniture. An oak side table on carved pillars, 7ft long, brought only £5 and the same sum bought the carved oak pedestal sideboard.’ Happily the majority of these lots can be seen in the building today. In 1945 the Johnstown estate was given to the Irish State by Maurice Lakin in lieu of death duties. The castle itself was taken over the the Department of Agriculture and initially served as an educational college, before becoming a centre for agricultural research, with laboratories established on site. Since 1976, an agricultural museum has operated in the yards. Less hearteningly, during the second half of the last century some serious losses occurred, not least the medieval tower attached to the front of the building: a residue from the original Esmonde era, it stood to the immediate left of the porte-cochère but was swept away soon after the property passed into state hands. Inside the castle, the greatest loss was the demolition of the magnificent Imperial staircase, a confection of neo-Gothic carving, cleared out to make way for a library for the college. Today, while the building is owned by Teagasc, Ireland’s Agriculture and Food Development Authority, it is managed by the Irish Heritage Trust which for the past decade has been gradually undertaking restoration work here, as funds permit. In addition, the IHT, which opens the castle to the public, has been refurbishing some of the main rooms, thanks to a mixture of purchases, loans and gifts, with some pieces now returned to their original home. A happier story than has often been the case for Irish country houses. 


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