
An overmantel in oak and pine attributed to the Dublin carver John Houghton and dated 1750/51: it appears he was paid £12 for his work. The piece was originally made to sit above the chimneypiece in the great Presence Chamber, one of a suite of State Apartments created in Dublin Castle around this time. The Presence Chamber was destroyed in a fire which broke out in the building in January 1941 and is now known only from photographs: the overmantel survived because at some date in the late 19th/early 20th century it had been moved to another location. The carving depicts Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius accepting homage from a group of Parthians following the conquest of their country in A.D.166. It is clearly intended to be an allegory for the government of Ireland by William Stanhope, first Earl of Harrington who had been appointed Lord Lieutenant in 1746. Following the initiative of his predecessor (and cousin), Philip Stanhope, fourth Earl of Chesterfield, Harrington continued the job of overhauling the old state rooms in the castle, in 1749 requesting from the Lords of the Treasury the substantial sum of £6,991.13.6 for this purpose. Both the overmantle and the portrait of Harrington (below) by James Worsdale are included in a fascinating exhibition Making Majesty currently at Dublin Castle. It is accompanied by an extremely informative (and readable) catalogue of the same name, edited by the show’s organizers Myles Campbell and William Derham.
A Castle in Miniature
The entrance to Annesbrook, County Meath. The design of the main house with its towering Ionic portico and gothick dining chamber in the north wing is sometimes attributed to Francis Johnston (see When Royalty Comes to Call, October 12th 2015). Perhaps he was also responsible for this building which might also have been constructed in anticipation of a visit by George IV in 1821. With the character of a miniature castle, it holds just two rooms, a kitchen/living area on one side of the arch and a sleeping chamber on the other.
A Lament for Kilcash

Now what will we do for timber,
With the last of the woods laid low?
There’s no talk of Cill Chais or its household
And its bell will be struck no more.
That dwelling where lived the good lady
Most honoured and joyous of women
Earls made their way over wave there
And the sweet Mass once was said.


Ducks’ voices nor geese do I hear there,
Nor the eagle’s cry over the bay,
Nor even the bees at their labour
Bringing honey and wax to us all.
No birdsong there, sweet and delightful,
As we watch the sun go down,
Nor cuckoo on top of the branches
Settling the world to rest.


A mist on the boughs is descending
Neither daylight nor sun can clear.
A stain from the sky is descending
And the waters receding away.
No hazel nor holly nor berry
But boulders and bare stone heaps,
Not a branch in our neighbourly haggard,
and the game all scattered and gone.


Then a climax to all of our misery:
The prince of the Gael is abroad
Oversea with that maiden of mildness
Who found honour in France and Spain.
Her company now must lament her,
Who would give yellow money and white
She who’d never take land from the people
But was friend to the truly poor.


I call upon Mary and Jesus
To send her safe home again:
Dances we’ll have in long circles
And bone-fires and violin music;
That Cill Chais, the townland of our fathers,
Will rise handsome on high once more
And till doom – or the Deluge returns –
We’ll see it no more laid.

A Lament for Kilcash, translated from the Irish by Thomas Kinsella.
The remains of Kilcash Castle, County Tipperary.
Home to the Waltons

The façade of Walton Court, County Cork. Overlooking Oysterhaven harbor, the house is believed to occupy the site of an earlier tower house constructed by the Roche family. In 1643 land in this area was acquired by Captain Swithin Walton, and it was his descendant Thomas Walton who built Walton Court: on a stone in the pediment are his initials and the date 1776. In the 19th century the property passed by marriage to another local family, the Roberts: it now provides accommodation and food to paying guests. The land in front of Walton Court descends to the water and then looks across the estuary to Newborough House which has recently been restored.
Another Unnecessary Loss

Over two years ago, this site carried an extensive report on the perilous condition of Carstown Manor, County Louth (see A Lamentable Waste, January 26th 2015). Carstown is of enormous significance because in its present form the building dates from the early 17th century and is accordingly a Jacobean manor: there are almost no such properties extant in Ireland. A pair of carved limestone plaques, one at the centre of a massive chimney piece in what would have been the main reception room, the other directly above the entrance door carry the same details, namely the date 1612, a coat of arms combining those of two families, and the initials OP and KH. The latter stand for Oliver Plunkett and his wife Katherine Hussey, both members of prominent local dynasties. The plaques may be presumed to indicate either the couple’s marriage or the date on which they completed work of some kind here. It has long been proposed that the core of Carstown is a late 15th/early 16th century tower house occupying what are today the two eastern bays of the house. However, in 2011 archaeology graduate Michael Corcoran published a paper suggesting that Carstown had begun as a late-mediaeval gabled house. If so, he wrote, ‘it would not only make this rural dwelling unique within the north Pale region, but would place it within a site-type that is vastly under represented in the Irish countryside and under-appreciated in Irish academia.’


Carstown was maintained and occupied until relatively recently but over the past two decades the house has fallen into serious disrepair, despite being listed for protection and the subject of four separate national monument records. Members of County Louth Archaeological and Historical Society have long been campaigning to ensure the building’s future: it has been the subject of repeated attacks by vandals and the greater part of the lead had been stripped from the roof, leaving the interiors vulnerable to the elements. Finally the society’s efforts ensured emergency repairs were carried out in 2016 by Louth County Council. Further critical work to the building by the council, as well as a structural survey part-funded by the Irish Georgian Society, was due to have begun next Monday. However last Sunday the house was set on fire and has effectively been left a shell.
Is this news disappointing? Yes. Is it surprising? No. Carstown Manor, like a great many historic properties across the country, has been allowed to slide into ruin because those in positions of authority have failed to act with sufficient force and speed. Unless enforced, legislation designed to protect our heritage is worthless: owners can simply neglect their legal responsibilities without fear of being brought to justice. So it has proven in this case, and a great many others: Carstown is just the latest in a long and melancholy list of lost buildings. What happened here was unnecessary and avoidable. The national patrimony continues to diminish and we are all left the poorer. County Louth Archaeological and Historical Society intends to hold a meeting as intended next week when they can see how best to preserve what is left at Carstown, not least those two plaques. Their voluntary work is to be applauded. What a shame it is not better emulated by those in a position to do more for our heritage, both in County Louth and throughout the rest of the state.
An Exquisite Specimen of the Architect’s Skill
‘Two miles from Killala, a Joice built this friary for the Franciscans of the third order. The family of Joices was very considerable in England and Ireland in the 14th century. The church is built of a bluish stone and not remarkable except that the tower is built on the middle of the gable end, and that in it is a confession box of hewn stone, in which the penitentiary sat and heard confessions on each side without being seen.’
From The Antiquities of Ireland, Francis Grose & Edward Ledwich, 1791.





‘Rosserick, in the Barony of Tirawley, Co. of Mayo, and Province of Connaught. It is situate on the river Moy, two miles South East from Killala. A Friary for the Third Order of Franciscans was founded here by — Joice; and a lease of the said Friary was afterwards granted to James Garvey. Here also is a tower built on the same plan as that of Moyne, but exactly on the middle of the gable end. It is remarkable that in each of these Monasteries there is a closet of hewn-stone, for two Confessors to sit in, with a hole on each side for the persons who confess to speak through.’
From A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland by Nicholas Carlisle, 1810.





‘A few miles south-east of Killala, Rosserick, another of our monasteries, sees itself reflected in the waters of the Moy. It was founded early in the fifteenth century by the Joyces, a potent family, of Welsh extraction, singularly remarkable for their gigantic stature, who settled in West Connaught, in the thirteenth century, under the protection of the O’Flaherties. Rosserick occupies the site of a primitive Irish oratory, and the place derives its name from Searka, a holy woman, who is said to have blessed the Ross, or promontory, that runs out into the river. The site, indeed, was happily chosen, and the entire edifice is an exquisite specimen of the architect’s skill. The church and monastery are built of a compact bluish stone, and the former is surmounted by the graceful square bell-tower so peculiar to our Irish Franciscan houses. The view from the summit of that campanile is truly enchanting and as for the internal requirements of such an establishment – its cloisters, library, dormitory, refectory and schools – the munificence of the Joyces left nothing to be desired.’
From The Rise and Fall of the Irish Franciscan Monasteries, and Memoirs of the Irish Hierarchy in the Seventeenth Century by the Rev. C.P. Meehan, 1870.

Rosserk Friary, County Mayo, founded by the Joyce family c.1440, burnt by Sir Richard Bingham 1590.
Standing Tall

What remains of Dunkerron Castle, County Kerry. This four-storey tower house was built on the site of an earlier Anglo-Norman fortification probably around the middle of the fifteenth century when it became a stronghold of the O’Sullivan Mór, chiefs of this particular branch of the family: a stone inscription formerly on the site noted that work had been carried out here in 1596 by Owen O’Sullivan Mór. Burnt during the Cromwellian Wars, the land on which the castle stood was confiscated and granted to Sir William Petty. The building thereafter fell into ruin and in the 19th century a new residence was built close by. More recently a development of holiday homes has been constructed in the vicinity.
Autumn Hues
A moment when the Virginia Creeper perfectly matches the colour of the door: the façade of Ardbraccan, County Meath. Dating from the late 1760s the building has a complex history, since Henry Maxwell, Bishop of Meath commissioned designs from three architects: James Wyatt, Thomas Cooley and Daniel Beaufort, the last of these also being a local Anglican clergyman. In the end the façade reflects elements of all their proposals, although it is closest to that of Wyatt.
Many Repairs Wanting
‘For some days past I have been sending all sorts of household goods and stores for Mount Panther, and propose leaving this on Tuesday next. D.D. [Dean Delany] is finishing alterations in his garden and giving directions for what is to be done in his absence. I am preserving, pickling, and papering and giving directions to my maids; and I have just spruced up a little apartment for you, come when you please.’
Mrs Delany writing to her brother Bernard Granville, 15th July 1750.




‘I know my dearest sister wishes to hear if I am safe at my journey’s end: thank God we are! We arrived a little fatigued last night: but a good night’s rest has refreshed us, and we are both very well. We had intended staying some days with Mrs Forde in our neighbourhood, not thinking we would find our habitation so fit for our reception as it is; but as there were so many things to settle, which could not very well be done with D.D. and my directing them, we thought it best to rest here [Mount Panther]…You who have had the experience of such affairs, can figure to yourself my present bustle – trunks, hampers, unpacking, hay flying all over the house; everybody scrambling for their things, asking a thousand questions such as “Where is this to be put?” “What shall we do for such and such a thing?” However, the hurry is pretty well over, the dust subsides, the clamours cease and I am hurried away to dress. I am really surprised at Smith’s [the Delany’s housekeeper] thorough cleverness in going through her work. She has got everything almost in as much order as if she had been here a week.’
Mrs Delany to her sister Anne Dewes, 21st July 1750.




‘And now to tell you a little of Mount Panther. To begin then: last Sunday dined at Downpatrick (after church). Mr and Mrs and Miss Leonargan, Mr Brereton, curate at Down, Mr Trotter, agent to Mr Southwell, dined with us; went to church again at 4 o’clock, went home at 5, two hours on the road, and visits to Lady Anne Annesley and Mrs Bayley and their husbands made half an hour; tired, supped, talked over the company of the day: went to bed before eleven; up next morn early, routed about the house, found many repairs wanting; sent for smith, carpenter and cowper [old spelling of cooper, repairer of barrels and casks]; catching showers; peeped now and then into the garden – excellent gooseberries, currants, potatoes, and all the garden stuff: fine salmon, lobster, trout, crabs, every day at the door…’
Mrs Delany to her sister Anne Dewes, 28th July 1750.
The Gable End
The remaining wall of a Jacobean fortified manor in Newtownstewart, County Tyrone built around 1619 with fashionable stepped gables. The town’s name derives from that of Sir William Stewart, a Scottish settler who married one of the daughters of Sir Robert Newcomen, believed to be responsible for starting work on the building. It endured considerable damage during the Confederate Wars of the 1640s, especially after being captured by Sir Phelim O’Neill and was then further damaged in 1689 on the instructions of James II who ordered that both house and town be set alight. The property has stood a ruin ever since.












