Category Archives: Hotel

Comfortable in Every Respect


‘We strongly recommend “Mr Hunter’s Inn, Newarth Bridge” as a most pleasant resting place, from which excursions may be made to Wicklow town, Rosana, Dunran and, above all, “the Devil’s Glen” – where a day may be well spent. Mr Hunter is an adept in the mystery of angling, and likes to accompany his guests to the neighbouring streams, or to Lough Dan…’
From Ireland: Its Scenery, Character, &c. By Mr & Mrs S.C. Hall, Vol.II (1842)
Although recent decades of relative affluence have brought many advantages to Ireland, this has had the effect of obliterating much tangible evidence of the country’s history: the tide of modernity has swept away all in its path. There are now, for example, few commercial establishments that date back much past the late 20th century and even many of these have been given so thorough a make-over that they might only have just opened for business. Which is what makes the survival of Hunter’s Hotel in County Wicklow so precious.





‘At Neweath Bridge we find good post-horses and carriages, at Hunter’s excellent hotel, its proprietor boasting, and justly so, of the entire approbation bestowed upon his admirably-managed establishment by patrons of the highest rank. It is most pleasantly situated on the left bank of the charming and trout-stored Vartry, on the sea-side road leading from Bray to Wicklow…’
From The Tourist’s Illustrated Hand-Book for Ireland (1852)
In the second half of the 17th century, the lands on which Hunter’s Hotel stands were granted by the English crown to Sir Abraham Yarner, elected first President of the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland. The original building is believed to have been a forge, erected next to a ford across the river Vartry, but by the 18th century this had evolved into a post house, known as the Newry Bridge Inn, providing respite for travellers on the road from Dublin to Wexford. The proprietorship of this establishment passed through various hands until 200 years ago when, in 1825, a young couple called John and Catherine Hunter, obtained a lease on the inn, stable yard and seven acres of garden from its then-freeholder, Henry Tighe of nearby Ballinapark. John Hunter had been butler to the Tottenhams of Ballycurry while his wife had hitherto worked for the same family as housekeeper. The extensive and appropriate experience they brought to their new role as innkeepers served them well, since, as can be read, they were soon receiving favourable reviews from visitors to the area.





‘Leaving Glendalough not much later than six 0’clock in the afternoon, the tourist may be at the Killoughter, or Newrath-bridge station of the Wicklow railway in time for the last up-train for which, should he be late, he will consider himself by no means unfortunate in being thereby thrown into one of the most comfortable hotels in the county, “Hunter’s Newrath-bridge Hotel”, on leaving which he will no doubt confirm the testimony we have just received from a tourist friend lately sojourning there-”My experience sojourning there was comfortable in every respect, landlord most obliging, servants a pattern of civility and attention”.’
From Dublin: What’s to be Seen and How to See It, with Excursions by W.F. Wakeman (1853)
Two hundred years after John and Catherine Hunter assumed responsibility for the Newrath Bridge Inn, their descendants remain in charge of the premises, a rare example of uninterrupted ownership in this country. Likewise, relatively little has changed either inside the hotel or outside in the gardens, both of which attest to the value of continuity. With its low ceilings, thick walls and antique furnishings, Hunter’s Hotel still retains the charm of an old coaching inn, one in which generations of guests have enjoyed generous hospitality from the proprietors. That’s a difficult thing both to acquire and to maintain, and one that more modern establishments can’t hope to realise. Continuity of character is hard to find in contemporary Ireland. Winning accolades since 1825, long may Hunter’s Hotel remain unchanged.


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On the Hill of the Fairies


In 1897 Edith Leeson Marshall married Sir Home Gordon, 12th (and last) baronet of Embo. A passionate cricketer, Sir Home wrote extensively on the sport although he never seems to have been an outstanding player. His wife Edith, descended from the first Earl of Milltown, was the youngest child of Richard and Rebecca Leeson Marshall, an evangelical Christian couple. Her father had inherited from his uncle an estate in County Kerry called Callinafercy and there built a comfortable, unpretentious villa for his family, the place later described by his daughter as ‘a house without a redeeming feature.’ But he died when Edith was only aged seven and her widowed mother moved about mainland Europe before settling in Richmond, outside London. In her entertaining memoir, The Winds of Time (1934), Edith Gordon describes how, at the time of her marriage both she and her new husband were convinced he could look forward to a future as a successful novelist, ‘but when, after some months of strenuous effort in the literary and journalistic worlds, he had only succeeded in obtaining the editorship of Banjo World at three guineas a month, my confidence began to wane…’ Meanwhile, Lady Gordon began to write, albeit under a pseudonym, for various publications including Ladies’ Field, then edited by the notorious Lady Colin Campbell. When she published a collection of essays under her own name in 1908, this was ‘received with astonishment by certain of my friends and acquaintances. “How clever of you to be able to write,” they exclaimed in terms of surprise mingled with awe.’ Through her writing, Lady Gordon also came to know Edward Hudson, founder of Country Life, and often accompanied him on expeditions, thereby getting to visit many country houses and meeting the likes of Edwin Lutyens, Gertrude Jekyll and William Robinson, with whom she shared an Irish background. All of these individuals would influence her when she came to commission a house for herself in County Kerry. What inspired her to embark on such an enterprise? Lady Gordon explained that by 1913, she had grown tired of life in London and its seemingly endless society crazes. ‘I felt I must get away from everybody and everything if I were not to become like the lady in the Divorce Court who, on being reprimanded by the judge for the frequency with which she committed adultery, flippantly remarked, “Well, what else can you do between tea and dinner”?’ And so, having inherited some money, she bought a parcel of land in County Kerry.





A rare example of an Arts and Crafts house in Ireland, Ard na Sidhe (meaning ‘Hill of the Fairies’) sits above Caragh Lake to the immediate west and ‘surrounded by mountains varying in colour from deepest purple to distant misty blue.’ Initially a wooden house was constructed on the site, but this proved problematic. In The Winds of Time, Lady Gordon claimed ‘I may as well remark that, having designed all the important parts of the house myself, such as the drawing room and the veranda, the bay-windows and my own bedroom, I had left such uninteresting details as the chimneys and stairs to the contractor.’ The latter individual she then blamed for such problems as the entrance hall being in the wrong place, claiming that when this was pointed out to him, ‘he drew himself up, and with an ingratiating smile, remarked that in view of the great success of the rest of the house I must forgive him. “It is really the nicest little house I ever built,’ he added with pride, “and the first in which I’ve been able to carry out all my own ideas”.’ In due course and inevitably, the wooden building had to be replaced with something more substantial, this one designed by the English-born Percy Richard Morley Horder, who in 1915 exhibited a drawing for the house at the Royal Academy in London. Although little remembered today, Horder enjoyed a successful career during his lifetime (he died in 1944). His early work tended to be in the Arts and Crafts style, while in the interwar period he became known for his Neo-Georgian work. He designed, or remodelled, a large number of country houses in England as well as churches (he was the son of a Congregationalist minister), university buildings in Cambridge and Oxford, as well as a large part of the Nottingham University’s campus. When young, Horder was good looking and could have charm, but he also had a ferocious temper, hence his nickname of ‘Holy Murder.’ His elder daughter thought that ‘he was the most remarkable man I have ever met, the most dedicated, the most charming (when he chose to be) and the most awful.’ Meanwhile, in an account of his life by Clyde Binfield published in 1988, it was recalled that Horder had a habit of treating his clients with disdain. ‘It was how most professionals might sometimes wish to treat their clients, if they dared. Horder’s way became legendary. He would shout at them, his voice sounding through the floor. “You come here and hector and bully me”, he shouted as one client retreated quietly from the room.’ Nevertheless, he seems to have enjoyed a good relationship with Lady Gordon who admitted that she had chosen him ‘out of a number of competitors, chiefly for his romantic appearance, which I felt somehow would be reflected in his designs and work. She also acknowledged not being the easiest of clients and given to regular changes of mind: ‘No architect, I am sure, ever had so much to contend with, and none ever emerged more amiably out of the ordeal, not even uttering a protest when submitting a drawing which, I saw one day, to my horror, was numbered “103”.’ Incidentally, the original wooden house was taken down and re-erected at the nearby town of Killorglin where it served as a Sinn Fein club until burnt out by the Black and Tans. 





Although reminiscent in design of an English manor house, Ard na Sidhe is built of local materials including sandstone from Glenbeigh, the only exception being Westmorland roof slates. Its exterior composed of a series of steep gables and mullioned windows, the building is surrounded by a sequence of gardens originally laid out by Lady Gordon, surrounded by low stone walls, all meandering down to the lake shoreline. Again, in her memoir, she lays claim for having been responsible for the gardens’ design, after an unnamed ‘lady gardener’, employed to help with laying out the site, revealed ‘that she knew even less about it than I did.’ Lady Gordon battled on alone but much enjoying the experience: ‘I must candidly say that I did not feel in the least that my garden was a “school of peace.” On the contrary, I should describe it as a perennial nightmare…on the other hand, my garden never bored me. It worried me by day, and kept me awake by night; it made me swear and it made me weep; and it would have taken very little more to make me scream.’ Unlike other houses in this part of the country, Ard na Sidhe survived both the War of Independence and the Civil War, although raided on at least seven occasions by troops belonging to various factions, and having items – including a motor car – stolen. But in the aftermath, separated (and eventually divorced) from her husband and with a diminished income, Lady Gordon found herself obliged to sell the property. ‘Parting with it,’ she wrote, ‘took an ever-increasing financial strain off my mind, but it left a hole in my heart which has never been filled…’ The house then passed through a number of hands before being acquired by the family of its present owners who in 1960 opened the place as a small hotel. More recently, Ard na Sidhe benefitted from a superlative restoration by architectural firm Howley Hayes Cooley, during which the original steel framed leaded casement windows were repaired and the stone exterior repointed in lime, while the interior underwent a replanning of the public areas and bedrooms. Many features which had been lost over intervening decades and, just as importantly, Ard na Sidhe’s original character, were brought back, along with panelled walls, stone chimneypieces, oak and stone flooring and oak doors. Today Ard na Sidhe looks and feels as though its original chatelaine still lived on the premises. 


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A Handsome House



‘Not far from Douglas is a handsome house adorned with a cupola and good plantations, the residence of Mr Richard Newenham, merchant in Cork, a gentleman who is the largest dealer in Ireland in the worsted trade, and employs some thousands in different parts of this country in spinning bay yarn, which he exports to Bristol.’ From The Ancient and Present State of the County and City of Cork by Charles Smith (1750).
The Newenhams are believed to have settled in Cork in the early 17th century and to have prospered as merchants: in 1671 one of their number, John Newenham, served as Mayor of Cork city. One branch of the family would come to live at Coolmore (see Trans-Atlantic Links « The Irish Aesthete). Believed to have been born around 1705, Richard Newenham was the son of another John, a clothier who some years earlier had become a Quaker. His father-in-law, Thomas Wight, who also began professional life as a clothier, was author of A history of the rise and progress of the people called Quakers, in Ireland, from the year 1653 to 1700. The eldest of seven children, Richard Newenham prospered and, as noted by Charles Smith, developed a thriving textile business. As Daniel Beaumont has noted, he may also have been involved in the manufacture of sailcloth, because the village of Douglas, close to Maryborough, had become an important centre for this industry. Newenham also went into partnership with a number of other men in the business of ‘sugar making and sugar boiling’ on the southern outskirts of Cork city. In 1738 he married Sarah Devonsher, member of another successful Quaker family which was responsible for building Kilshannig (see Exuberance « The Irish Aesthete).





Probably built not long before Charles Smith published his book on Cork in 1750 and thought to be on the site of an earlier house, Maryborough was then described as having a cupola, but that no longer exists. The main body of the house is rendered, of three storeys over a raised basement, and seven bays wide, the three-bay breakfront defined with limestone quoins. A substantial flight of steps leads up to the pedimented entrance doorcase, also of limestone. The rear of the house is similar, having a three-bay breakfront but with a Gibbsian doorcase and the two upper floors being slate-fronted, as is the upper section of an extension to the east. The latter’s two-storied facade is a substantial, three-bay bow. This part of the building is thought to be a later extension from c.1830 while behind it is another addition from the late 18th century, a gable-ended wing accommodating a cantilevered Portland stone staircase: Frank Keohane proposes this as the work of local architect Michael Shanahan (who also worked in Ulster for the Earl-Bishop of Derry). The interiors of Maryborough are relatively plain, as befitted the home of a member of the Quaker community, amongst whom there was strong disapproval of gratuitous ornament. However, one room on the first floor has an elaborately decorated rococo ceiling, heavily enriched with scrolling acanthus leaves and an abundance of floral bouquets. 





Following Richard Newenham’s death in 1759, Maryborough was inherited by his only son John, and after the latter died in turn his son, another Richard, inherited the property. In 1837 it was described by Samuel Lewis as ‘the residence of E.E. Newenham Esq., a noble mansion in a spacious demesne, embellished with stately timber.’
Maryborough remained in the ownership of the Newenhams until the late 19th century, although rented out for some years before being sold to Thomas Sherrard in 1889. His descendants lived there until 1995 when the place was sold to the present owners who turned the house into an hotel, with a large bedroom extension added to the south and, more recently, an orangery/function room to the immediate west of the old building.


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It’s Not Unusual



A not-unusual sight in Ireland: the former hotel on Main Street, Milford, County Donegal. Also not unusual: the fact that it has been left closed and falling into decay for many years. The property was put on the market some ten years ago but failed to find a buyer. Then in 2019 the owners applied to redevelop the site into a mixture of townhouses and apartments, with the front section renovated and the rear replaced. That didn’t come to pass, and in 2020 a local elected representative proposed Donegal County Council buy the place. This didn’t happen either, and last year a similar proposal was made, the response being that the authority was working on the (inevitable) draft plan for the town centre’s regeneration and that this document would be subject to further consultation. Some months ago, Milford was listed as one of 26 beneficiaries of a new national Town Centre First initiative. Meanwhile, the old hotel continues to deteriorate.


Not So Imperial


A fine carved limestone doorcase, formerly one of the entrances to the now-shut Imperial Hotel in Castlebar, County Mayo. Occupying one side of the town’s Mall and tracing its origins as a hostelry back to 1795, the Imperial (formerly Daly’s) Hotel was also the site where the National Land League was founded almost 143 years ago, on August 16th 1879. The building closed for business in 2009 and two years later was bought by Mayo County Council, which has since produced various ‘masterplans’ for the premises but not embarked on any of them, instead leaving this important building to deteriorate. It should be noted that in the same area of Castlebar, the council also owns the former post office and the former barracks, both of which have similarly suffered years of neglect as a consequence of a failure to implement a much-heralded programme of urban renewal. Once again, it is hard to see why any private owner of an historic property in Ireland should embark on restoration when such a poor example is provided by the relevant local authority.

Dereliction is Vandalism


Since last year, two Cork-based sustainable designers, Jude Sherry and Frank O’Connor have been driving a campaign – primarily via Twitter (look for #derelictireland) but also through other channels – to tackle the shameful and ongoing problem of dereliction in Ireland. This is a long-standing issue which has been allowed to fester for far too long. Last October,
research by UK price comparison website money.co.uk reported that 9.1 % of the State’s housing stock, equating to more than 183,000 units, were classified as vacant – with 4,000 of these being owned by local authorities. Furthermore, the following month it was revealed that during 2020 the same local authorities had collected €378,000 through the Derelict Sites Levy, a small fraction of the almost €12.5 million in cumulative unpaid charges which could have been claimed. A large number of vacant properties can be classified as derelict, which is hardly surprising when owners see so little effort is made to ensure they maintain buildings in their possession. As anyone who has travelled around Ireland can testify, everywhere, in urban and rural settings alike, there are houses falling gradually, and seemingly irrevocably, into decay. These are a blight on a nation and ought to be a matter of shame, but instead too often the only response is indifference. Hence the importance of Sherry and O’Connor’s work. 





Close to the shores of Lough Corrib, Oughterard, County Galway lies on the main route to Connemara: almost all traffic heading west passes through the town. Before doing so, all traffic must also pass the shabby remains of the former Connemara Gateway Hotel. This former 62-bedroom property on around six acres closed its doors some years ago, and is currently for sale for €2.4 million. In September 2019, some refurbishment was undertaken as the owner sought to have it leased by the state as a Direct Provision Centre. There had been no consultation with the local population which, when this notion became public, rallied to oppose the scheme; it was duly abandoned. So, the building now sits empty and falling ever further into decay, serving as a welcome when visitors arrive in the west of Ireland. Then, as they leave Oughterard, those visitors have an opportunity to inspect a further example of the national penchant for dereliction: the former Sweeney’s Oughterard House Hotel. The front of this building dates from the early 18th century when it was constructed as a private residence: it was subsequently, and clumsily, extended to the rear. Like the Connemara Gateway Hotel, the property has stood empty for some years and is in an increasingly poor state of repair.





One small Irish town, two large properties capable of providing accommodation to upwards of 100 people left to stand empty and neglected. In Ireland, property ownership is sacrosanct. Owners believe they are entitled to do what they like with the buildings in their possession, and that includes doing nothing. Hence the increasing number of buildings lying vacant and decaying. In February, Irish Times columnist David McWilliams wrote – not for the first time – that dereliction is vandalism and must be stopped (see https://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/david-mcwilliams-dereliction-is-vandalism-and-must-be-stopped-1.4798979). What’s more, the state allows this vandalism to persist. Legislation exists providing both national and local governments with the necessary powers to intervene and halt dereliction, but both persistently fail to exercise them. Until they do so, the likes of these two Oughterard buildings will continue to be found right around the country. 

In Decline



The Lanesborough Arms Hotel opened in Newtownbutler, County Fermanagh 200 years ago, in 1820 and is testament to the prosperity of the area at the time. No longer, however. Of five bays and three storeys with a free-standing Tuscan porch, it closed for business some time ago: a fire believed to have been started deliberately caused major damage in 2016. Today the building is in poor shape, and reflects the decline seen in many small towns across the island of Ireland even before the start of the present pandemic.