Category Archives: Heritage at Risk

Uncertain Future I


Just over a week ago, the handful of Cistercian monks still living at Mount Melleray Abbey, County Waterford left the premises and moved to another part of the country. The history of the abbey dates back almost 200 years, to the aftermath of the 1830 Revolution in France when a group of some 64 Irish and English monks were obliged to leave their monastery at Melleray in Brittany. Led by Melleray’s Prior, Waterford-born Fr Vincent Ryan, they arrived in this country in December 1831 and initially rented a property in County Kerry but soon found that site unsatisfactory and were then offered an alternative by Sir Richard Keane who a few years earlier had inherited a large estate at Cappoquin, County Waterford. Keane proposed the monks rent 600 acres of mountain land at a modest rent. Assisted by local people, the furze and scrub covering the property was gradually cleared and a working farm established. Meanwhile, preparations were made for the establishment of a new monastery, the foundation stone of which was laid on 20th August 1833, the feast of St Bernard of Clairvaux. Created an abbey two years later, with Fr Ryan as its first abbot, the monastery was named Mount Melleray, in memory of the French house left behind. 





For a long time, Mount Melleray thrived; at its height the monastery was home to some 150 priests and brothers. A school operated on the premises from 1843 until it closed in 1974 (see Untapped Potential « The Irish Aesthete) and in addition to the farm, there was a carpenters’ workshop, a forge and an aviary. Nothing offers better evidence of the Cistercian order’s confidence in the future than the great church, plans for which were first drawn up a century ago following the acquisition of all the cut limestone which had once been used for the exterior of Mitchelstown Castle, County Cork. That great house, which stood some 28 miles to the west west, had been burnt by anti-Treaty forces in August 1922 (see Doomed Inheritance « The Irish Aesthete) and stood empty when Mount Melleray’s Abbot Dom Marius O’Phelan proposed buying the stone. Once agreement had been reached, the material was transported by steam lorry in two consignments a day over a five-year period. Designed by the Dublin firm of Jones and Kelly which specialised in producing traditional designs for religious clients, the new abbey church’s foundation stone was laid in April 1933, shortly before the abbey celebrated the centenary of its foundation. With its great square lantern tower, the main body of work on the abbey church was completed in November 1940, although it was only somewhat later that the high altar and some 20 lesser altars, gifts of benefactors, were installed, together with stained glass, some of which was made by the Harry Clarke Studios. At the south-west corner of this building and at a right-angle to it, a smaller, ‘public’ church was also built, again to the designs of Jones and Kelly and again with stained glass from the Clarke studios. The interior here is also decorated with extensive use of mosaic on the walls. The church was originally dedicated to Saint Philomena, and was once the National Shrine of the latter saint. However, her statue was removed when, on instructions from the Holy See in 1961, Philomena’s name was removed from all liturgical calendars. 





So what will happen now to these churches and all the ancillary buildings around them, once accommodating hundreds of monks and visitors but now standing empty? The last eight monks have moved to another monastery, Mount St Joseph, County Tipperary and no decision has been taken on the future of the abbey at Mount Melleray. In Ireland of the 21st century, this is not an unusual circumstance: the numbers of people choosing to enter the religious life has dropped steeply in recent decades, and one legacy are substantial properties that are surplus to their original requirement. Finding an alternative purpose, especially for a site such as this one, which is relatively isolated, several miles from the nearest town and with no public services in the vicinity, will be challenging. And yet, again like so many others, the buildings are sturdily constructed and, in this particular instance, of architectural interest not least for the incorporation of cut stone from Mitchelstown Castle. A conundrum. 


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The Four Penny Castle


Now surrounded by suburban housing, Monkstown Castle, County Cork once stood proud in its own grounds and overlooking the estuary of the river Lee and access to Cork harbour. The building dates back to the 17th century when it was constructed c.1636 by one Anastasia Gould, wife of John Archdeacon, said to have been a naval officer who was overseas supporting the King of Spain. Legend has it that when he returned home and saw this large structure on his land, he immediately assumed it had been erected by his enemies, and accordingly fired on it, one cannon ball hitting the battlements. The other story associated with Monkstown Castle is that Anastasia Gould was determined not to waste money on its construction and so employed the workmen at a fixed rate with the stipulation that they purchase their daily food supplies and so forth from her at a moderate price. When the job was finished, all bills paid and all sums collected, she found that the castle had cost her precisely four pence. 




Like many similar properties in Ireland, Monkstown Castle has experienced mixed fortunes over the centuries. The Archdeacons do not appear to have enjoyed possession of the building for very long as in the aftermath of the Confederate Wars and the arrival of the Cromwell’s New Model Army, both castle and surrounding estate were granted to Colonel Hercules Huncks, remembered today for having refused to sign Charles I’s execution order (and accordingly being described by Oliver Cromwell as a ‘froward, peevish fellow’). Huncks sold the property to Michael Boyle, Dean of Cloyne (and future Archbishop of Armagh) but in the aftermath of the Restoration the Archdeacons were living there once more, perhaps as tenants of Boyle. In any case, owing to their allegiance to the Stuart cause, they lost the castle again in the aftermath of the Williamite Wars and in due course it was inherited by two of his granddaughters who had married into the Vesey and Pakenham families; thus portions of the estate came to be owned by both the Earl of Longford and the Viscount de Vesci. How well the castle stood is open to question. In 1700 during his Visitation to the diocese Dive Downes, Bishop of Cork and Ross wrote that ‘Mr. O’Callaghan, a Protestant, lives in Monkstown, in a good square castle with flankers. However, at some point in the 18th century it was rented to the government to serve as an army barracks and in his Ancient and Present State of the County and City of Cork first published in 1750, Charles Smith says the castle ‘is large and in ruins, and is flanked by 4 square turrets.’ On the other hand, the Dublin Penny Journal of August 1833, although judging it a ‘large and gloomy pile of building’, comments that the castle is ‘in good repair.’ 




By the early 19th century, Monkstown Castle was owned by the Veseys but leased to one Bernard Shaw, Collector of Cork Port and a member of the same family as the future dramatist George Bernard Shaw. A large chimneypiece inside the building carries the initials B.S. and the date 1804 (as well as 1636) , indicating work was undertaken here at that time, undertaken by local architect William Deane. Bernard Shaw was duly succeeded by his son, Bernard Robert Shaw who lived here until 1869 when he and his wife moved to England where they died. Whether the castle was still occupied is open to question as around 1840 the Shaws had built a large residence close by, called. Castle House. In June 1871 the estate of Bernard Robert Shaw running to 905 acres was advertised for sale. At the start of the last century, the castle was used by the local badminton club before being acquired in 1908 by the newly-established Monkstown Golf Club, which then made the building its club house. MGC bought the castle and what was then a nine-hole course from the De Vesci estate in 1959 for £4,000, selling the castle and some 32 acres in 1967 for £22,000. Thereafter, while the surrounding land was divided up into plots for housing, the castle remained empty and falling into disrepair, becoming a roofless shell. Between 2008 and 2010 extensive restoration work was carried out on the property, which had permission to be divided into three apartments. However, while re-roofed and made watertight, the building was then left unfinished and has remained in this state ever since. In recent years, it has been on the market for €800,000. Not a huge sum, but somewhat more than the four pence the castle originally cost Anastasia Gould. 


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Ill-Advised Indifference


While last Monday’s page told a cheering story of restoration and renewal, today’s story demonstrates that plenty of work remains to be done in order to secure the future of our urban architectural heritage. Waterford city has some fine Georgian buildings, a number of which have been restored in recent years. However, many others have been left to languish, such as that above, no.18 Lady’s Lane. This street was once an important thoroughfare, lined with fine houses of which no.18 is a particularly good example. Thought to date from c.1750, it is of five bays and three storeys, with a particularly splendid staircase and rococo plasterwork. An ugly extension was added to the rear in 1975  when the house served as a men’s hostel (doing so until 2012). Otherwise, despite a fire thought to have been started by vandals, the building retains much of its original character and appearance, although it hasnow  sat empty for many years. Likewise no.22 Lady’s Lane, which is of a later date (c.1800), but likewise of five bays and three storeys, and again suffering neglect. Aside from being a terrible waste of good housing stock, the impression conveyed by such dereliction in the city – where, incidentally, the local authority has hitherto spent over €24 million on consultants’ fees alone for a north quay scheme that has yet to get underway – is that the future Waterford’s historic centre remains under threat from ill-advised indifference.   

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Seventy Years Ago…


The charming cathedral dedicated to St Brendan in Clonfert, County Galway has featured here before (see The Traveller’s Rest « The Irish Aesthete). And because Clonfert was, until the 1833, a separate diocese in the Church of Ireland (it remains so in the Roman Catholic church), there was also an episcopal palace, now alas a sad ruin. Standing a short distance to the north of the cathedral, the oldest part of this building is thought to date back to the late 16th or early 17th century, possibly constructed during the episcopacy of Stephen Kirwan (bishop of Clonfert 1682-1701) who served as a justice and commissioner for the province of Connaught. There is no doubt that Clonfert, today a sleepy hamlet, was then judged a place of some importance since in 1579, Elizabeth I, in her Orders to be observed by Sir Nicholas Maltby for the better government of the province of Connaught’ declared ‘We are desirous that a college should be erected in the nature of an university in some convenient place in Ireland for instructing and education of youth in lerninge. And We conceive the Town of Clonfert within the province of Connaught to be aptlie seated both for helth and comodity of the ryver of Shenen running by it and because it is also neere to the midle of the realme, whereby all men may, with small travel send their children thither.’ The queen may have heard that during a much earlier period, Clonfert had been a great seat of learning, or perhaps it was just that the cathedral and its ancillary buildings were located in a central location and, as she observed, close to the river Shannon, then a major means of travel through Ireland. However, the idea of establishing a college here never happened, and it was only in 1592 that the country’s first university was founded in Dublin.





As mentioned, while parts of the former bishop’s palace in Clonfert may go back to the late 16th century, a more substantial portion of the building dates from c.1635, during the episcopacy of Robert Dawson, who had become Bishop of the newly-united dioceses of Clonfert and Kilmacduagh in 1627 and would hold that position until his death in 1643 (incidentally, he was also the forebear of a family that would go on to become great landowners and developers in Ireland, not least his great-grandson Joshua Dawson who was responsible for laying out Dawson Street in Dublin and building what is now the Mansion House). Oak beams and roof joists in the palace have been dated to around this period, although further changes and additions were made at some time in the 18th century, when a Venetian window was inserted.
In his memoirs, published in 1805, the playwright Richard Cumberland wrote about the palace in Clonfert, which he knew well since his father Denison Cumberland had lived there while bishop of the diocese (1763-1772). ‘This humble residence,’ he recalled, ‘was not devoid of comfort and convenience, for it contained some tolerable lodging rooms, and was capacious enough to receive me and mine without straitening the family. A garden of seven acres, well planted and disposed into pleasant walks, kept in the neatest order, was attached to the house, and at the extremity of a broad gravel walk in front stood the cathedral.’ Cumberland also remembered how, while staying with his father on one occasion, he used ‘a little closet at the back of the palace, as it was called, unfurnished and out of use, with no other prospect from my single window but that of a turf-stack’, as a room in which to begin writing what would prove to be his most successful stage work, the comedy The West-Indian (first performed at London’s Drury Lane Theatre in 1771). However, Clonfert was always one of the poorest episcopacies in the country and as a result successive bishops – many of whom managed to have themselves transferred to richer dioceses after only a short period of time – were disinclined to make improvements to their residence. For this reason, it retained much of its 17th century character, being long and low, of eight bays and two storeys with dormer windows. The surrounding demesne also underwent relatively few changes. There survives, for example, a yew walk running south-west of the palace, which may be even older, but certainly has the character of 17th century baroque garden design. Like the building to which it leads, the yew walk is now sadly neglected.




Clonfert Palace remained home to successive Church of Ireland bishops until 1834 when, following the creation of a new united diocese of Killaloe and Clonfert, it became surplus to requirements and was sold to John Eyre Trench. In 1947 his descendants sold the building to the Blake-Kelly family who, four years later, sold it to the next owners who would be the last people to live in the former palace. By then the place was in poor condition and required extensive renovation, along with the installation of electricity, new bathrooms and so forth before it could be occupied; the new chatelaine drove over from her temporary residence in Co Tipperary to oversee this work. Finally, once complete, in February 1952 she and her family arrived, along with a retinue that included housekeeper, cook, maid and chauffeur, as well as a gardener to maintain the grounds. A local newspaper, the Westmeath Independent, reported that ‘‘Sir Oswald and Lady Mosley, who have a large staff, are charmed with Ireland, its people, the tempo of its life and its scenery.’ The same publication also briefly noted that ‘Sir Oswald was the former leader of a political movement in England.’ The ‘political movement’ had, of course, been the British Union of Fascists (later the British Union) and both Sir Oswald and his wife, the former Diana Mitford, had been interned for a number of years during the second World War by the British government, and had found themselves shunned in the aftermath of their release. Ireland had several advantages, not least the fact that two of Diana Mosley’s sisters already owned properties in the country, Deborah, Duchess of Devonshire at Lismore Castle, County Waterford and Pamela Jackson at Tullamaine Castle, County Tipperary. Country houses here were going cheap, and there were still sufficient other landed families still about to make life agreeable to the newly-arrived. For the next two years, the Mosleys remained contentedly at Clonfert, attracting little attention although they were discreetly observed by both the Irish and British governments. Such might have remained the case, had not disaster struck exactly 70 years ago, in early December 1954. At the time, Diana Mosley was in London, but her husband and their two children were in County Galway when fire broke out, seemingly caused by an old beam inside the chimney of the maids’ sitting room. The blaze spread quickly, so fast indeed that according to a report in the following day’s Irish Times, a French maid, Mademoiselle Cerrecoundo, who had run upstairs to rescue some clothes, became trapped in the building. Sir Oswald, his son Alexander and the chauffeur, Monsieur Thevenon, held a blanket beneath one of the windows and the maid leapt to her safety, with only minor injuries to her back and hand. Alas, the old palace was not so lucky and while a handful of rooms and their contents were saved, most of the building was lost as it took an hour and a half for fire brigades to reach Clonfert. The following day, hurricane-force winds and torrential rain ripped across the entire country, compounding the damage done to the house and leaving it a sorry wreck. In 1955 the Mosleys moved to Ileclash, a Georgian overlooking the river Blackwater in County Cork where they lived intermittently until 1963 when the couple moved to France. As for Clonfert Palace, despite being described on www.buildingsofireland.com in 2009 as being of national significance, it was left to moulder into its present advanced state of decay. What could have been saved as a rare example of late 16th/early 17th century Irish domestic architecture has been lost.


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Inexplicable



Extraordinary to see that this gate lodge at Clonleigh, County Donegal has been left to fall into dereliction. Set at an oblique angle to the road, it formerly marked the entrance to an estate and since-demolished house owned by a branch of the Knox family. Single storey with an attic storey lit by shamrock motif windows, the building is faced in uncoursed rubble with dressed stone employed around the doors and windows. Thought to date from the mid-19th century, the lodge may have been designed by Welland and Gillespie, architects for the Ecclesiastical Commissioners, who in 1863 were carrying out extensive works at the Church of Ireland church and parish hall in nearby Lifford: this would explain its decidedly church-like appearance. Harder to explain is why such a fine little house should stand unoccupied and threatened with ruin.



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State-Sponsored Neglect


Above are the front and rear elevations of Towerhill, County Mayo, a house believed to date from the close of the 18th century when built for Isidore Blake, whose descendants continued to own the property until 1948 when the building’s contents were auctioned and the place itself subsequently stripped of everything that might be removed, slates from the roof, floorboards and doorcases, chimneypieces and so forth. Of six bays and two storeys over basement, Towerhill is unusual in that all four sides of the house are pedimented, and finished to the same high standard; the architect responsible for this work is unknown. The property is now owned by the state’s forestry body, Coillte, which accounts for its neglected condition.


What a Waste


The history of Knockanally, County Kildare is rather opaque, although it is known that the Coates family, the first of whom appears to have arrived in Ireland in the early 1700s, acquired the land on which it stands from the Aylmers who lived not far away at the now-derelict Donadea Castle (see Another Blot on the Landscape « The Irish Aesthete). Some kind of residence was built at Knockanally and in the mid-18th century this was occupied by one William Coates, known to have died in 1766 when the property was inherited by his eldest son, Matthew. When his grandson William Lancake Coates died in the following century, Knockanally was inherited by William Coristine Coates, the son of his cousin. His descendants appear to have continued living on the estate until it was taken over by the Irish Land Commission in 1942 and subsequently divided among various farmers. The immediate demesne and main house were then sold to a Captain Sheppard, who in turn sold it to the Maharani of Baroda. In 1959, ownership passed to the Rehabilitation Institute, which used the house as a convalescent home for the victims of polio.Further changes of ownership seem to have followed before Knockanally was bought in 1983 by Noel Lyons, who turned the land into an 18-hole golf course. 





As it appears today, Knockanally dates from c.1843 when commissioned by William Lancake Coates on a site east of the original house. The architect responsible was Dublin-born William Deane Butler, much of whose work involved designing institutional buildings such as court and market houses, although he did receive commissions for a number of country houses also. As noted by the late Jeremy Williams, Knockanally is almost a cube, ‘if its height is assessed on the three-storied central bay.’ Of two storeys over basement and faced with wonderfully crisp limestone ashlar, the building is entered via an Ionic portico flanked by Venetian windows with a third directly above it. On this level, windows within shallow recesses open onto balconies: these can also be found on each of the four-bay side elevations. Seemingly the interior featured a central, double-height and top-lit hall. Williams has noted that this is a reduced version of the hall in Dublin’s Broadstone station, designed by John Skipton Mulvany who, he suggests, may therefore have had a hand in Knockanally. As for the very substantial and elaborate gatelodge at the entrance to the former estate, J.A.K. Dean dates this to c.1870, too late to have been designed by either Butler (who died in 1857) but may have come from Mulvany as he lived until that date. 




In September 2010 it was reported that one of the country’s banks had appointed a receiver over Knockanally Golf Club, set in 125 acres; this move came a few days after creditors of Ferndale Leisure, the holding company behind the club, had met to appoint a liquidator; at the time, with an economic recession at this height, quite a number of Ireland’s golf clubs were going into receivership. Three years later, the club, the main house, gate lodge and a number of golf ‘lodges’ in the grounds, was sold to a Warwickshire-based company, St Francis Group for  €1.1 million: some years earlier, this portfolio had been valued at €3.5 to €4 million. Quite what has happened since then seems to be unclear. Refurbishment work was carried out on the house and other buildings on the site, but in September 2018 the local Leinster Leader reported that the golf club had again closed down and was to be offered for sale. Since then, both the house and gate lodge have remained closed and boarded up, with inevitable deterioration in the fabric of both buildings. A dreadful waste.

A Missed Opportunity




In her marvellous memoir Bricks and Flower, Katherine Everett described how, in August 1922 and at the age of 50, she had cycled from Limerick to Macroom, County Cork at the request of her distant cousin and godmother Olive, Lady Ardilaun to see what remained of the latter’s property, a castle in the centre of the town which had just been burned by anti-Treaty forces. Located above the river Sullane, the castle dates back to the 12th century and for several hundred years was occupied by the McCarthys before eventually passing into the ownership of the Hedges Eyre family before eventually being inherited by Lady Ardilaun. Two years after the fire, she sold the castle to a group of local businessmen; the main part of the building was demolished in the 1960s, with just the outer walls remaining, a series of mediocre school buildings erected within them. What survives suffers badly from neglect (as indeed does the river and the nine-arch bridge crossing which dates from c.1800) with the local county council failing to make the most of what has potential to be a popular visitor attraction. Instead, Macroom’s most significant piece of architectural heritage as been left to moulder: a missed opportunity.


The Bishop’s Legacy



After Monday’s tale of Riverstown, County Cork, here are the scant remains of another, slightly earlier property built by another member of the same family. In 1710 Dr Peter Browne, former Provost of Trinity College Dublin, was appointed Church of Ireland Bishop of the United Dioceses of Cork and Ross. Ten years later, he acquired some 118 acres of land to the immediate south-east of the city, with the intention of constructing there ‘a good, substantial and convenient dwelling house and a chapel thereunto adjoining together with suitable offices.’ Named Bishopstown and finished in 1726 at a cost of more than £2,000, he created this property and surrounding demesne to serve as “a fit and convenient residence for himself and his successors, the bishops of Cork and Ross”.  The adjacent chapel was consecrated in 1730. Alas, his successors failed to appreciate this legacy and already by 1792 the house at Bishopstown was described as being ‘in a state of decay and totally unfit for the residence of the bishop.’ In the early 1830s the place was leased to a farmer and then in 1878 the Ecclesiastical Commissioners sold the land and buildings. It passed through various hands before being bought by Cork Corporation about half a century ago. Many of the buildings were then in a better condition than is now the case (and some of them have been demolished over the intervening years). What remains is a former farmhouse incorporating an early 18th century limestone doorcase retrieved from the since-lost mansion, and the skeletal remains of the chapel (see below). In the immediate vicinity, jostling for attention with a children’s playground, are a pair of small, three-arched bridges and fragments of a circular battlemented shell house, thought perhaps to have been built during the episcopacy of Robert Clayton, the bishop here 1735-45. Bishopstown today is a heavily-developed suburb of Cork city.


Awaiting Attention



Lucan House, County Dublin was discussed here a few weeks ago (see Addio del Passato « The Irish Aesthete). As noted then, the property, having been under the care of the Italian government for almost 80 years, has now been taken over by the local council. Included in the demesne is not only the house but a number of other significant buildings, including the remains of a mediaeval church. This is located to the immediate east and within sight of the former Italian ambassador’s residence. The church is recorded as being in existence since 1219, some 15 years after the manor of Lucan had been granted to the Norman Waris de Peche. He was probably also responsible for developing the original castle, thought to have stood in the vicinity of the present house, and close to the banks of the river Liffey.






The church of St Mary in Lucan was granted by Waris de Peche to the Augustinian Priory of St Catherine, located on the other side of the Liffey. By 1332, St. Catherine’s had passed to St Thomas’s Abbey on the outskirts of Dublin and remained under its control until the suppression of religious houses in the second quarter of the 16th century. St Mary’s church was then acquired, along with the castle, by William Sarsfield and appears to have remained in a good state of repair until at least the late 1500s. However, in 1630 the chancel was described as ruinous and has remained so ever since. Constructed of rubble limestone, the building consists of a nave and chancel, the former having lost its north wall. Inside the chancel are a number of tombs erected by later occupants of Lucan House, a particularly poignant one commemorating Nicholas Peter Conway Colthurst who died in November 1820 aged six weeks, the tomb noting ‘It pleased Almighty God to take him from his afflicted parents after four days illness.’ On the north-east corner of the building is a three-storey tower, sometimes mistakenly called Lucan Castle. Most likely this was erected in the 15th century as a residence for the clergy serving St Mary’s, during a period when civil disturbances meant some protection from attack – even for priests – was considered necessary. 






On the opposite side of the parkland around Lucan House and quite different in character can be found another building in need of attention: an eighteenth century Gothick bathhouse. Thought to date from the mid-1780s, and therefore perhaps constructed while Agmondisham Vesey was still alive, it was constructed during the period in which the local sulphurous waters made Lucan popular as a spa. However, the limestone rubble bathhouse, complete with whimsically irregular form and bellcote, was for private rather than public use. It sits at the end of a long tree-lined avenue on a site above the river, views of which were offered by a tall arched opening on the north side. This opening gives access to a vaulted antechamber, warmed by a central fireplace on the south wall, the pointed arch stone surround looking as though it may have been taken from an older building, perhaps St Mary’s church? There are arched openings on both the western (external) and eastern (internal) walls of the chamber, the latter leading to the bathhouse itself, a sunken pool with a series of shallow steps. Like other buildings in the grounds of the property, the bathhouse is now in need of restoration, along with the stableyard and a pair of charming Gothick lodges which lie immediately inside the gates. All of this now awaits the local council. One must hope that the authority appreciates the importance of the site’s architectural legacy, and affords it due respect.