Category Archives: Country House

New and Old



Wallstown Castle, County Cork is thought to date from c.1780 when constructed by the Ruddock family, although the battlements were only added in the middle of the following century. The building owes its name to the Walls who occupied the site during the Middle Ages and lived in a three-story tower house, the remains of which can be seen in the yard behind the more modern castle. In 1642, during the Confederate Wars, Wallstown was captured by Lord Inchiquin in 1642 and most of its occupants killed: Richard Wall was captured and in due course died in Cork prison. The property was then granted to Captain Andrew Ruddock, whose descendants in due course opted for a more convenient residence.



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As Healthy and Convenient as Any Other Rooms


‘Don’t give the servant’s room the look of a perpetual rummage sale by making it a dumping ground for old defaced pictures, furniture, and bric-a-brac. Remember that it is her only haven of rest, and have it restful, if only for selfish reasons, for renewed bodily vigor means well-done work and a made-over disposition. When we think of the average servant’s room, small, stuffy, poorly ventilated, hot in summer, cold in winter, and unattractive to a degree, it ought to bring a blush of shame.’
Excerpt from The Complete Home (1879)





‘The servants’ rooms should be made as healthy and convenient as any other rooms in the house, well lighted, and, being in part in the roof, care should be taken in all new houses to protect them from undue heat and cold by means of boarding and slates, by overlaying the former with battens, on which the slates are hung, so that, as far as practicable, the rooms may not be rendered hot and close in summer, or icy cold in winter.’ Excerpt from Popular Science Monthly (1885)





‘The writer would here urge every mistress of a family, who keeps more than one domestic, to provide them with single beds, that they may not be obliged to sleep with all the changing domestics, who come and go so often. Where the room is too small for two beds, a narrow trucklebed under another, will answer. Domestics should be furnished with wahing conveniences in their chambers, and be encouraged to keep their persons and rooms neat and in order.’ (Excerpt from A Treatise on Domestic Economy by Catherine Esther Beecher (1845)


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Hunting for a House


Irish readers over a certain age may remember the name Molly Cusack-Smith, since her colourful exploits (and sometimes language) often appeared in newspapers during the closing decades of the last century. Lady Cusack-Smith was a descendant of the Revd John O’Rorke, a Church of Ireland clergyman and member of an ancient Irish family which had once been based in what is now County Leitrim, where they had claimed the title Prince of Breifne. The Rev. O’Rorke had begun his ecclesiastical career as curate of Moylough, Co Galway, later becoming Rector of Foxford, Co Mayo, and Vicar of Straid, in the Diocese of Achonry, although he continued to live in Moylough (pluralism and non-residence being common features about Church of Ireland clergymen at the time). However, his primary interest appears to have been the acquisition of property, since he leased land from the Bellews of Mountbellew, County Galway and then bought the Clonbern estate in the same county from the family of the late William Beresford, Archbishop of Tuam. His landholdings also included over 1,600 acres in Co Roscommon and 217 acres in Co Westmeath. Married three times, he eventually diedin 1849 at the age of 73 after a fall from his horse. His son, Charles Dennis O’Rorke, inherited not just the Clonbern estate but also another at Bermingham, County Galway, bequeathed by his uncle John Dennis. This, in turn passed to his son, Charles Trench O’Rorke, before the greater part of the family’s landholdings, running to more than 5,000 acres, were acquired by the Irish Land Commission in 1927. Charles Trench O’Rorke had one child, a daughter christened Adela Mary, but known as Molly. 





Molly O’Rorke was born in 1905 and from an early age hunted with her father’s pack of harriers, since the family had long been associated with the local hunt known as the Galway Blazers. In the 1930s, she moved to Paris, initially with the intention of studying music but then opting for fashion, establishing herself as a couturier in London and specialising in evening dresses. At a cocktail party during the war she met Sir William Robert Dermot Cusack Smith whose family, like her own, was Irish. The couple married in 1946, had a daughter two years later but then parted ways. In a 1992 interview Molly Cusack-Smith explained ‘He was very rich and had a title. We got engaged because it seemed a good idea. But, actually, it wasn’t.’ Returning to Ireland and hunting, she became the first woman master of the Galway Blazers before founding the North Galway hunt where she was joint-master until her retirement in 1984. Every year at Bermingham House, she hosted a hunt ball once described as ‘the last clarion call of the stranded gentry’ and famous for the exuberance of all attendees: to paraphrase what was once said of the 1960s, if you could remember a Bermingham House hunt ball, you weren’t there. The tone was set by the event’s hostess, renowned for her colourful behaviour and language both on and off the hunting field. Of the various stories told about her, perhaps the best known is of the occasion when, at the end of the hunt, a groom remarked on the sweaty condition of her horse. To which she is said to have responded ‘You’d be sweaty, too, if you’d spent the past three hours between my legs.’ Molly Cusack-Smith died at the age of 92 in 1998. 





Bermingham House, the setting for all those legendary hunt balls, takes its name from the Berminghams, Barons Athenry, who once owned the land here, until their line died out with the first (and last) Earl of Louth who died in 1799. The house and estate were leased to John Irwin Dennis in the late 1830s before being bought  by him in 1851 in the Encumbered Estates’ Court. Along with 200 acres of farmland, it has now come on the market once more, with the opportunity for a new owner to host parties equal to those of the house’s former chatelaine. Dating probably from the mid-18th century, the building has a curious facade, of two storeys over basement and three bays, the latter spaced exceptionally far apart and both windows and door rather small considering the overall size: this is particularly curious because the west elevation is of four bays and the east of five. Inside, a pedimented doorcase leads from entrance to staircase hall, the latter having pretty neo-classical plasterwork in arches above doors and recessed bookcases. The main reception rooms have good late 18th century chimneypieces and are all painted in bold colours, as is the case with many Irish country houses. Naturally, given its previous predilection for hunting, there are fine stable yards to the rear. 


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All’s Wells



Buried inside the present 19th century Wells House in County Wexford is a much older building, thought to date from the second half of the 17th century. This was constructed by John Warren, a soldier in the Commonwealth army, who as payment for his service was granted more than 6,000 acres here. A ‘plain square building’ the original Wells and surrounding estate were sold in 1704 to Robert Doyne, whose descendants would continue to own the property until 1966. The Doynes claimed descent from the medieval Gaelic sept of Ó Duinn (O’Dunne), lords of Uí Riagáin (Hy‐Regain) in that part of Ireland that is today known as County Laois. Around the time that Warren had been granted the land at Wells, Robert Doyne’s father had been deprived by the Commonwealth government of his own property. However, the family successfully regained what had been lost: it helped that Robert Doyne had conformed to the Established Church, become a wealthy barrister and married a widow who brought money and property with her. Hence he could afford to buy the Wells estate, along with other lands so that by the time of his death he had built up a holding of some 9,800 acres. 





As mentioned, the present Wells House dates from the late 1830s when designed by Daniel Robertson for another Robert Doyne who, like his forebear, had married a wealthy widow, Annette-Constantia Uniacke, a niece of the first Marquess of Waterford. It is easy to understand why the Doynes should decide that work needed to be undertaken on what was their principal residence. Samuel Lewis, writing in 1837, noted that the earlier house on the site ‘was, for nearly three years after the disturbances of 1798, occupied as a barrack by the king’s troops ; it is now about to be rebuilt in the Elizabethan style by the proprietor, as a residence, and will in future be called Wells Abbey.’ While the change of name does not appear to have taken place, by 1844, James Fraser could write that the house ‘has been recently repaired, and altered from a plain square building to the early style of Tudor architecture; and the grounds around the mansion, and the approaches to it, are in process of formation in a style conformable thereto.’ Doyne had evidently been thinking of giving the family home a new appearance for some time, having commissioned designs from Thomas Cobden in 1819 (a classical design) and then for additions and alterations from Sir Richard Morrison in 1836. But ultimately he opted for Robertson’s scheme, which like so much of the latter’s work, evoked 16th century manor houses, with an asymmetrical facade incorporating an abundance of gables and clusters of chimneys. The result, unusually faced mellow red brick is, as Frederick O’Dyer has noted, more English in style than the majority of Robertson’s houses, which tended to be faced in either granite or limestone. 





The seven-bay Wells House is of two-storeys over basement with a dormer attic, a breakfront gabled centre bay incorporating a large Tudoresque doorcase. Both end bays also break forward and are gabled, a gentle asymmetry introduced by that to the north having a canted bay window on the first floor (this lights the main staircase). The garden front presents a more balanced appearance. As might be expected from its exterior, the main reception rooms of Wells House, County Wexford are very much in the Tudorbethan mode, with the use of oak panelling in a variety of styles, as well as Gothic-style timber panelled doors and shutters, and groin vaulted ceilings. The double-height staircase hall is particularly fine, with cast-iron balusters supporting carved a timber banister terminating in Gothic-style octagonal newels and a timber surround to the canted bay window found on the half-landing.
An unexpected change of decorative styles can be found in the drawing room, which is panelled in white and gilt rococo boiseries. Whether original Louis XV or a later imitation of that period’s style it is hard to tell, and no information appears to exist about their origins, although surviving plans indicate they were installed when the house was given its present form by Robertson. Might the boiseries have been acquired by Robert Doyne when, as a young man, he had embarked on a Grand Tour of mainland Europe, in the company of no less than Beau Brummell? The quality of workmanship is high, many of the panels filled with a multitude of small fleurs-de-lis, while close to the top of the walls at either end of the room are two elaborately carved panels, one featuring musical instruments and sheets of music, the other a quiver of arrows and the head of Diana. And it all fits the room perfectly, so was either created for this space or else, if from somewhere else, adapted accordingly. In any case, the Doynes continued to occupy the property until the mid-1960s, after which Wells House passed through a couple of other hands before being bought by the present owner in 2022: today it is open to the public, with self-catering cottages in the yard, and a variety of tours and events held in the main building. 



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Playing with the Architectural Lexicon



‘Crossing the left bank of the Boyne at Bellinter bridge we enter the noble demesne of Ardsallagh, now belonging to the Duke of Bedford, who has recently erected here a handsome Elizabethan mansion, in which report whispers he will annually spend some time. In no part of its course does the river present the same extreme calmness and repose as here. Widening into deep, still pools, shaded by aged timber, and fringed with wild plants of gigantic growth, huge colts-foot; with the modest blue forget-me-not and the little yellow potentilla peeping through their dark umbrageous foliage; long, topling bulrushes, fragrant meadow-sweet, and broad waterlilies, stretch in wild luxuriance along the placid banks. Long avenues of lime trees, and groves of tall grey- stemmed beeches with arcades of aged yew, give an air of antiquity as well as grandeur to this handsome park. One almost always expects to meet some remnant of ecclesiastical buildings where aged yew trees abound, and accordingly we read that St. Finian founded the monastery of Escair-branain near this, but at present even the site of that ancient edifice is unknown.’ (from The Beauties of the Boyne and its Tributary the Blackwater by William R. Wilde, 1849). 






Located above the banks of the river Boyne as it flows south from the town of Navan, County Meath, Ardsallagh was, as Wilde mentioned, believed to be the site of a religious house established here in the sixth century by Saint Finian of Clonard. In the late 12th century, the land here was granted by the Norman knight Hugh de Lacy to one of his supporters, Jocelyn de Angulo, whose descendants, their name anglicised to Nangle, became known as Barons of Navan. The Nangles erected a castle at Ardsallagh and would remain there until the 1650s when, like so many other families who had supported the Catholic Confederate cause, they were deprived of their property, 8,000 acres of which were later purchased by the Dublin alderman John Preston: in the following century, his great-granddaughter Mary Preston inherited the Ardsallagh estate. Her husband, Peter Ludlow served as an MP for Meath, while the couple’s son, also called Peter, would have a highly successful political career, eventually becoming Comptroller of the Household in the 1780s. Before then, he had been elevated to the peerage, created Baron Ludlow of Ardsallagh while aged just 25, and eventually becoming first Earl Ludlow. In due course he was succeeded by his two sons, the younger of whom, the third and last earl, had a highly successful military career, rising to the rank of Lieutenant General, as well as acting as Equerry to the Prince of Wales from 1784-95. On his death without direct heirs in 1842, Ardsallagh was bequeathed to Francis Russell, seventh Duke of Bedford who, Wilde noted, commissioned a new residence on the site. This property subsequently passed to the duke’s brother, Lord John Russell, British Prime Minister 1846-52, and later first Earl Russell. However, he and his descendants do not appear to have spent much, if any, time in residence at Ardsallagh. In January 1890, The Times carried the following advertisement: ‘To be let or sold for a term of years, the house and demesne lands of Ardsallagh, the Irish residence of Lord Russell, situated on his property in the County of Meath, in the best hunting district in Ireland.  The house is a large gentleman’s residence, with good stables and out offices, and the demesne contains 333 acres 1 rood 43 perches statute measurement.’ Certainly, in the closing decades of the 19th century, the estate was let to the French family, and eventually in the 1930s it was bought by a local builder, Cormac Murphy and his wife Catherine: earlier this year, their grandchildren placed the house and surrounding 199 acres on the market. 






As alredy mentioned, the original building at Ardsallagh was a castle erected by the Nangles, but no trace of this survives today: a census from 1821 merely notes ‘the remains house of Ardsala’ while The Parliamentary Gazetteer 0f Ireland, 1844-1845 observed that the demesne here ‘seems to be as ill kept as it is delightfully situated.’ The two later Earls Ludlow had enjoyed careers based in England and therefore one assumes neglected their Irish estate. However, the place had once been very fine: passing through the area in August 1732, Mrs Delany declared ‘The house seems a very antique edifice, it has fine gardens, but the trees and meadows that lie by the river are extremely beautiful.’ Similarly, writing c.1740, Isaac Butler called Ardsallagh, ‘the beautifull Seat of Mr Ludlow the House is lofty & well designed with a fine Firr Grove which almost encompass the House here are delightfull Gardens, & curious subterraneous Grottos.’ By the following century, it appears all this had fallen into ruin, which explains why, after inheriting the place, the Duke of Bedford should have opted to start afresh with the construction of a new residence. As seen today, Ardsallagh is in the Tudor Revival style, its limestone exterior replete with pointed gables and towering diagonal chimneys, oriels and mullioned windows. Designed by an unknown architect, but described by Casey and Rowan as being ‘in the manner of Edward Blore’, the house cost £40,000 to build and fit out. The building, which suffered a fire in 1903, subsequently received attention from Sir Thomas Drew, which makes it difficult to know how much of the present interior is original and how much early 20th century refurbishment. The most striking feature is the double-height staircase hall which, unlike the exterior, evokes the Baroque period, with the first-floor gallery supported by a series fluted columns below an elaborate entablature. The main rooms, their plasterwork ceilings simultaneously incorporating elements of the Jacobean and English Perpendicular periods, further add to the delightfully eclectic blend of styles found within the house. Although, as is evident in these pictures, the place now needs some attention, Ardsallagh is a wonderful survivor from a time when bold borrowing from the architectural lexicon was still widespread. At the time of writing, the property is listed as Sale Agreed: one must hope that whoever takes it on appreciates Ardsallagh’s special qualities and ensures they are preserved into the future. 



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An Unfortunate Accident

In January 1835, The Gentleman’s Magazine reported that Major Henry Langley of Brittas Castle, County Tipperary, ‘late Captain in the 2nd Life Guards’ had died the previous year on October 12th at the age of 48. The cause of death was not given, although, as will be explained, this was somewhat unusual. Major Langley was the descendant of Lieutenant Henry Langley, a Lancashire-born soldier who came to Ireland with the English Commonwealth army in 1649, and became a member of Colonel Hierom Sankey’s regiment of horse. According to the County Tipperary historian James White, writing at the start of the last century, while participating in the Siege of Clonmel in April 1650, ‘Captain Langley, who was one of the first to volunteer for service with the storming party, had his left hand cut off by a blow of a scythe as he was attempting to mount the breach.’ Nothing daunted, the injured man had his severed stump fitted with an iron hook and was thereafter known as ‘Langley of the Iron Hand.’ Five years later, he was rewarded for his services with grants of land in Counties Waterford and Tipperary, and these would remain in his family for several generations, with additions made through advantageous marriages. One of these was the union in 1754 of a later Henry Langley and Margaret Grace, heiress to the Brittas Castle estate, which had passed from the Butlers to her forebears in the  1660s. This was the property which Major Langley had inherited after his uncle Henry Grace Langley had died in 1821 without any surviving children of his own. 






An undated engraving, produced during the lifetime of Henry Grace Langley, shows the original Brittas Castle to have incorporated two squat square battlemented towers and one round tower connected by two-storey buildings, the whole fronted by a gable-ended, five-bay, three-storey house. Seemingly, this was badly damaged by a fire in 1820, after which the whole site was cleared and, following Major Langley inheriting the estate, ambitious plans drawn up for an entirely new castle to be built on the site. The architect chosen for this job was William Vitruvius Morrison and, according to his brother John, writing six years after William Vitruvius’s death in 1838, ‘The design of this edifice was by the desire of the proprietor, both in form and proportions, that of the ancient English baronial castle of the earlier period.’  The Norman Warwick Castle is often cited as a formative influence on the proposed building, where work initially progressed well but then came to a halt in October 1834 when Major Langley, who was inspecting progress, was struck by falling masonry and killed. After this disaster, the family appears to have gone into rapid decline because by October 1851 Brittas was in the hands of the Court of Chancery and two years later it was offered for sale in the Encumbered Estates Court. The purchaser, who paid £13,000 for the entire estate in December 1853, was Colonel William Knox, member of a Mayo family. His descendants lived there until the second half of the last century, after which it passed into the care of the present owner’s family. 





Material assembled in the 1830s for the never-completed Ordnance Survey Name Books observed that Brittas Castle was ‘a modern unfurnished building on a most magnificent scale but in all probability it will never be finished.’ Such indeed proved to be the case, with a long, single-storey dwelling instead being constructed to the rear of what had been done on the site. What stands – which was only intended to be the gatehouse to the main castle behind – is unlike anything else seen in this country, a towering structure comprising two octagonal battlemented towers some 60 feet high which flank an entrance which, if finished, would have been reached across a drawbridge, since a substantial moat was dug around the whole plot. As has been noted in the Irish Architectural Archive’s compendium of the Morrisons’ oeuvre (published 1989), no other castle by this architect ‘is, even in part, so austerely antiquarian.’ Although incomplete, what can be seen today displays extremely high standards of workmanship and finish. Behind the gateway are the remains of what would have been an enclosed courtyard, in turn leading to the main building, its walls left as a series of giant steps. The two towers at the front, with walls eight feet thick, climb three storeys, on each of which narrow passageways, lit by arrow slit openings, give way to a series of lofty, stone vaulted chambers. One can only speculate what the rest of the building would have looked like, had Major Langley not been struck by that piece of falling masonry. That unfortunate accident left his ambitious plans unrealised, but at least what survives is being well managed and allows us to imagine what, under other circumstances, might have stood here, a castle like no other in Ireland. 


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Beautifully Situated on a Fine Declivity


Mount Juliet, County Kilkenny dates from the 1760s when commissioned by Somerset Butler, 8th Viscount Ikerrin and 1st Earl of Carrick from an unknown architect. Located on an estate he had bought towards the end of the previous decade. The house sits on high ground above the river Nore and across from Ballylinch, a property which had anciently belonged to the monks of Jerpoint Abbey and which had passed through a number of hands before being inherited by Eleanor Redman, who married James Butler, third viscount Ikerrin: they were the paternal grandparents of Somerset Butler. The original name of the land on which Mount Juliet stands was Oldtown but this was changed to Waton’s Grove, after the Waton family who lived there until they forfeited their property in the aftermath of the Cromwellian settlement. It then passed through a succession of owners, including James II, until finally being purchased by Somerset Butler, probably in the late 1750s: a bridge over the river in front of the house carries the inscription, ‘This bridge was built at the private expense of Somerset Hamilton Earl of Carrick in the year 1762.’ Having acquired the place, he chose to call it Mount Juliet, after his wife, Lady Juliana Boyle, a daughter of the first Earl of Shannon. 





When Arthur Young visited Mount Juliet  in 1776, he described it as ‘beautifully situated on a fine declivity on the banks of the Nore, commanding some extensive plantations that spread over the hills, which rise in a various manner on the other side the river: a knole of lawn rises among them, with artificial ruins upon it…’ Another visitor in 1818 describes walking around ‘the flower gardens and to the green house which is on an uncommon plan and then round the back lawn, which is very pretty, well wooded with pretty oak between the boles of which is a beautiful view of distant woods and hills and here and there a reach of the river.’ However, the writer thought the house ‘very large, old fashioned and not pretty,’ although he did allow that it seemed ‘comfortable and convenient.’ 





Designed by an unknown architect, Mount Juliet is of three storeys over-basement. The house originally faced north-east looking down towards the river with a seven bay facade between two shallow curved bows with arched windows on two storeys. The central breakfront has Venetian windows on the two upper storeys above a tripartite pedimented and fan-lit doorway (since enclosed within a porch). There is a perron and double steps in front of the door, with iron railings  At the start of the last century, the entrance was moved to the other side of the building, with a single-bay three-storey projecting entrance bay added. Much of the interior decoration was commissioned by the second earl, Henry Thomas Butler, who inherited the estate in 1774, also the year in which he was married. The main reception rooms have splendid plasterwork, again by unknown hands, although in the style of Michael Stapleton,not least the dining room, the walls of which are lined with medallions enclosing classical figures in relief and surrounded by delicate garlands of grape leaves. But each room has its own distinctive character, as well as a variety of fine marble chimneypieces, many of which were installed when the house underwent alterations in first decades of the last century. The second earl was also responsible for the entrance hall dominated by an Imperial staircase supported by a screen of fluted Ionic columns. When the house’s orientation was altered at the start of the last century, a room was added immediately beyond the stairs’ return. 





While the first two Earls of Carrick appear to have lived within their means, the same cannot be said of the third. Soon after he died in 1838, leaving two infant sons, an auction was held at Mount Juliet where lots on offer included ‘the entire household furniture, plate, and plated ware, valuable paintings, books, piano forte, china, glass, &c.; as well as horses, carriages, farming implements and all livestock. Then in 1852, a large part of the family’s land, ‘‘upwards of 7,000 acres statute measure’ was sold by the court for the Sale of Incumbered Estates in Ireland, the auction realising a total of £40,200. By this date, all that remained was the townland of Mount Juliet and its house, which had been inherited by the fifth earl, Somerset Arthur Butler, who entered the Grenadier Guards as an ensign in 1856 and took part in the Crimean War, retiring from service as a captain in 1862. Unmarried, seemingly in later years he became a recluse and following his death in 1901 is said to have left much of his personal fortune to the Plymouth Brethren of which he was a member. Title and what remained of the estate then passed to a cousin, Major Charles Henry Butler, who never lived in the property but passed it on to his eldest son, the future seventh earl who in turn leased Mount Juliet to the wealthy General Sir Hugh McCalmont. 





Just before the outbreak of the First World War, General Sir Hugh McCalmont bought Mount Juliet from the seventh Earl of Carrick. The McCalmonts were responsible for carrying out a number of alterations to the house, not least changing its orientation and creating a ballroom in one of the wings. The family remained at Mount Juliet until 1988 when they in turn sold the property. Since then it has operated as a luxury hotel with a Michelin starred restaurant. Over the past year, the hotel’s new owners have undertaken an extensive restoration and redecoration of the house.


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Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day?


Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;




Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;




But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.


William Shakespeare, Sonnet 18
Photographs of the walled garden at Glenarm Castle, County Antrim

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Turneresque



Today a country house hotel, Marlfield, County Wexford dates from the mid-19th century when constructed as an agent’s residence for the estate of the Stopfords, Earls of Courtown who lived close by in Courtown House (since demolished). The family retained ownership of the property until 1977 when it was sold to Ray an Mary Bowe who subsequently opened it as an hotel. Of rubble stone with brick facings, the original three-storey building has a four-bay, east-facing entrance front, with central two-bay breakfront. Requiring more space for guests, in 1983 the Bowes commissioned work from architects Cochrane, Flynn-Rogers and Williams whose most notable addition is an elegant curvilinear conservatory on what had previously been the main entrance: this has now been moved to the north side. In the style of those designed by Richard Turner around the time Marlfield was first erected, the conservatory now serves as a dining room. 



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Farewell to a Polymath


Last November, the Financial Times published an extensive feature on Alec Cobbe, chronicling some, although by no means all, of his many achievements. Alec, who after a few months ill health died last week, could rightly be described as a polymath, the FT summarising his various skills as an art restorer, historian, author, re-hanger, interior designer and painter who also happened to be a fine pianist. But this is to understate his profusion of talents. To take the last on that list, Alec not only played the piano, he also collected historic keyboard instruments, more than 50 of them which are on display at Hatchlands Park, a National Trust property in Surrey leased by Alec and his wife Isabel since 1984. On display there are two grand pianos which had once belonged to Chopin, as well as Haydn’s grand piano, Liszt’s Italian upright piano, Bizet’s composing table-piano, Mahler’s Viennese piano, Johann Christian Bach’s piano, on which Mozart may also have played, and instruments which formerly belonged to George IV and Marie Antoinette: anyone who visited the recently-ended exhibition devoted to the French queen at London’s Victoria and Albert Museum would have seen her piano there. But as mentioned above, this was just one of Alec’s many skills, of which he had an abundance. He was a highly talented painter (particularly of country house interiors), and separately an illustrator whose work was much in demand for the design of invitations to all sorts of smart events. In addition, he was a restorer who over the course of his life identified more than one lost old master picture, and an interior designer much in demand for his ability to hang picture collections, most recently those at Castle Howard; other houses in which he worked included Harewood, Hatfield, Hillsborough Castle, Knole and Petworth. Extraordinarily well-read and well-informed, he brought a keen and critical eye to every enterprise. But although a well-known and widely admired figure in Britain, Alec’s achievements were perhaps less appreciated in his native Ireland. 





Alec Cobbe was born in Dublin in 1945 and spent much of his childhood at Newbridge, the house some short distance north of the city where his widowed mother lived with her bachelor brother-in-law. Newbridge had been commissioned by the family’s forebear, Charles Cobbe, Archbishop of Dublin, in the late 1740s and designed by James Gibbs, seemingly the architect’s only work in Ireland (for more on Newbridge, see The Glory of the House « The Irish Aesthete). Without question, Alec’s eye received its earliest training at Newbridge, a house to which he remained thereafter devoted despite being based on the other side of the Irish Sea for the greater part of his professional life. After school, initially he studied medicine at Oxford (and won a prize for anatomical drawing) but then moved into the field of art restoration, training at the Tate Gallery before he established a conservation studio at Birmingham City Museum and Art Gallery, and then worked at the Hamilton Kerr Institute in Cambridge. Eventually he opened his own studio in 1981. As he explained in the FT article, the move into interior decoration and specifically picture hanging was a natural evolution: having taken care of a painting’s restoration, he would often see it hung unsympathetically. As he explained, ‘I’d think, “Why the hell did I spend all that time on the picture for it to be killed by the hanging of the thing”?’ Alec was always a man of strong opinions and with few qualms about expressing them. When the members of the public visit Newbridge today, they are seeing a house that represents his vision of its history and evolution. Yet this almost didn’t happen. When Alec’s uncle Thomas died in 1985, the house and estate were acquired by the local authority and it looked as though the family’s link with the property would be irreparably broken. Instead, just as the building’s contents were about to be removed, an agreement was made whereby they would remain on the premises and, in return, the Cobbes would be able to live in Newbridge from time to time. Although such arrangements are common in England, this is highly unusual in Ireland but proved to be an enormous blessing not least because Alec, passionate about the place, did much to improve it by driving various restoration projects and adding to the existing furnishings and works of art. He also loved to entertain in the house, and those of us fortunate to have been invited will have fond memories of convivial meals, either eaten in the main dining room or upstairs in the family flat, followed by a sound night’s sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. 





The pictures shown here reflect two rooms in Newbridge that particularly engaged Alec’s attention. The first is a cabinet of curiosities. Incorporating items collected by Archbishop Cobbe, this was essentially the creation of his son Thomas and daughter-in-law Lady Betty Cobbe who lived there from the time of their marriage in 1755 to their respective deaths in the early 19th century. Originally referred to as ‘ye Ark’, the cabinet takes up an entire room in the house, its walls lined with hand-painted sheets depicting oriental scenes and held in place by faux bamboo découpage trellising. A suite of specially made cases and display cabinets were filled with a typically diverse range of items, shells, exotica, curios, much of it from other countries. In 1758, for example, the Cobbes bought some coral, as well as a nest of vipers and a ‘Solar Microscope.’  Eventually, the collection came to include a stuffed crocodile, an ostrich egg mounted in a bog oak stand, a set of ivory chess pieces from China and a depiction of the coronation of George III (1761) carved in bone and placed inside a glass bottle. Over time, the room in Newbridge began to suffer neglect: even by 1858 it was being described as ‘the poor old museum.’ In the 1960s the paper on the walls was taken down and sold, the cases and cabinets moved first to the basement and then an attic lumber room, and the space converted into a sitting room. While many of the surviving contents are now in Hatchlands Park, the Newbridge cabinet of curiosities was recreated, a replica of the wallpaper produced from memory by Alec, the cases brought down from the attic, and a replica sample of the collection once more on display. Meanwhile, at the far end of the house stands the red drawing room, another addition made by Thomas and Lady Betty Cobbe, working with local architect George Semple. Some 45 feet long, the room has a ceiling featuring ‘a sea of scrolling leaves and floral garlands encircled by dragons and birds fighting over baskets of fruit,’ believed to have been undertaken by stuccodore Richard Williams, a pupil of Robert West. Two hundred years ago, payments for furniture were made to Woods & Son, and to Mack, Williams & Gibton of Dublin, who were also paid for curtains in 1828. The carpet, by Beck & Co. of Bath was supplied in March 1823 for £64 and 18 shillings, while the crimson flock wallpaper and matching border came from the Dublin firm of Patrick Boylan. The present arrangement of paintings, the greater part of them collected during the previous century by Archbishop Cobbe and his son and daughter-in-law, dates from the same period. Some of the collection had been sold in Dublin in 1812, and in 1839 two key paintings – by Hobbema and Dughet – were sold to pay to fund the construction of some 80 estate workers’ cottages. In November of that year, then owner Charles Cobbe wrote in his diary, ‘I have filled up the vacancies on my walls occasioned by the loss of the two pictures which have been sold, and I felt some satisfaction in thinking that my room (by the new arrangement) looks even more furnished than before.’ Such is still the case today, thanks to Alec. Over many years, he undertook successive projects to preserve and conserve the drawing room, so that today it is a rare example of late Irish Georgian taste. There were several other projects in this country with which Alec was closely associated, not least the redecoration of the drawing room at Russborough, County Wicklow (see A Room Reborn « The Irish Aesthete). Having served alongside him as trustee of a charitable foundation, the Irish Aesthete can testify to his indefatigable enthusiasm and diverse range of interests. Sadly, he has not lived to see the publication of his latest book, Inside the Country Houses of Britain & Ireland, due to be published by Rizzoli in September. Let it serve as a lasting memorial to the polymath that was Alec Cobbe. 


Richard Alexander Charles Cobbe, January 9th 1945 – March 31st 2026

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