A Gentle Gothick



Lismacue, County Tipperary, a property which has remained in the same family since the land on which it stands was bought by William Baker in 1704 for £923. Standing at the end of an exceptionally long avenue of lime trees planted c.1760, the building acquired its present, mildly Tudorbethan appearance at the start of the 19th century thanks to Kilkenny architect William Robertson. Of three bays and two storeys, the entrance front’s most notable feature is a single-storey limestone Gothick open porch; a lower service wing to the north concludes in a gable with traceried window, which suggests a chapel (but was probably once a kitchen).  The other two sides looking across the gardens are of five bays, that to the rear having two blind bays as the original intention was for the building to be further extended here. 


Wasting our Resources


According to the 1899 edition of Burke’s Landed Gentry of Ireland, in the 1620s a Dutch general called Wibrantz Olphertzen came to Ireland and settled in County Donegal, buying property from Captain Henry Harte who had been granted lands in this part of the country as a reward for his loyalty to the English government during the Ulster Plantation. Successive generations of the family lived in the same spot, an estate called Ballyconnell which lay just a short distance north of the village of Falcarragh. Invariably the heirs were called either John or, in memory of their Dutch forebear, Wybrants, marrying locally and usually passing their lives unnoticed beyond the immediate area. In the late 1880s, however, Wybrants Olphert, a Justice of the Peace and Deputy Lieutenant of the county, came to international prominence when he began to evict tenants from his estate due to non-payment of rent. Although Olphert’s property ran to 18,133 acres, the poor quality of land here meant it was valued at only 1,802 and in 1885 rent arrears ran to £1,200; his creditors therefore urged him to evict tenants who had failed to pay. However, in 1886, Home Rule supporters initiated the Plan of Campaign, which  called on tenants to withhold payment on estates where owners refused to reduce rents. This is what now took place on the Olphert estate, with the tenants’ cause championed by the local parish priest, James McFadden and his curate Daniel Stephens (both men were jailed for a period). Meanwhile, the Chief Secretary for Ireland, Arthur Balfour, provided support for Olphert; at one stage, police maintained a 24-hour watch over the estate. Eventually, as the Plan of Campaign petered out in the aftermath of Parnell’s political collapse, resistance from tenants on the Olphert estate, as elsewhere, came to a close as did the evictions, although as so often the conflict left a long and bitter memory.





Looking at the Olpherts’ former residence in Ballyconnell, it is difficult to work out when work on the site began, a situation not helped by the many substantial extensions built around the old house in the second half of the last century. As already mentioned, the family are said to have purchased the land on which it stands in the 1620s, so perhaps something of a 17th century structure remains here. The main block is customarily believed to date from around the middle of the 18th century: the date 1763 is often proposed. This would appear to have been a long, two-storey house of five bays, possibly more (ie. taking in those parts of the building that now feature projecting gable ends). In the 19th century – c.1840 has been suggested – modifications were made to the house, when its east-facing facade was dickied up with the addition of a sandstone porch flanked by canted bay windows, all on the ground floor. The Olphert crest and motto “Dum Spiro Spero” (“While I Breathe, I Hope”) can be seen on the porch’s central armorial plaque. Hood mouldings were placed above windows on the gable-ended wings, the upper windows were also given cast-iron balconies. The architect responsible for these loosely-Tudorbethan alterations is unknown; given how superficial they are, perhaps no trained architect was employed. There are further extensions to the rear, but this area is now such a hopeless muddle that it is difficult to ascribe any date to them. 





The Olphert family remained in possession of, if not necessarily in residence at, Ballyconnell until 1917 when Sir John Olphert, son of the aforementioned Wybrants Olphert, died. Along with some 15,611 it was then bought by the Congested Districts Board for £20,620. The building was occupied first by the Irish Republican Brotherhood in 1921 and then by the Free State Army in 1922 during the Civil War, after which it was sold to the Office of Public Works for £7,000. In 1927 Ballyconnell was offered to the Loreto Order of nuns, which in 1927 who altered and extended the house, and opened a preparatory College, Coláiste Bhríde, for the education of female primary school teachers. Alterations and additions to the house took place during this period, with more following after the property was bought by the Catholic Diocese of Raphoe in 1961. Four years later, it opened as a secondary boarding school for boys and continued to serve this purpose until 1986. A year later, the place was sold again, this time being purchased by Udarás na Gaeltachta (a public sector authority responsible for the economic, social and cultural development of the Gaeltacht, that is parts of the country where Irish is the dominant language). This organisation used Ballyconnell as a Gaeltacht school\Irish college for some time, but then left the buildings empty, in which state they have remained ever since. Since 1996 part of the demesne has been laid out as a nine-hole golf course and earlier this year, the club running this facility lodged an application with the local authority for the removal of existing temporary buildings on the site and the erection of a new clubhouse (rather than renovating some of the very extensive existing structures here). Meanwhile, thanks to an initiative by local residents, the surrounding woodland which was laid out with many specimen trees in the 19th century has been developed for walkers/runners in the area. In the midst of all this sits the pathetic sight of Ballyconnell falling every further into decay. Ten years ago, in 2014, there was talk of the property being used as an addiction centre run by a Roman Catholic organisation, but that plan came to nothing. And nothing seems to be what has happened since. As so often with historic buildings in the care of official bodies – like the Health Service Executive and Coillte –  Udarás na Gaeltachta appears untroubled that a property for which it is responsible should stand neglected and ruinous. A shocking, but not unusual, waste of our resources. 

Very Arch



In November 1860 Charles William Cooper assumed by Royal Licence and according to the terms of his late uncle Charles King O’Hara, the latter’s surname thereby ensuring that he might inherit the O’Hara family seat at Annaghmore in County Sligo. Having done so, he then embarked on an extensive building programme, not only refurbishing and enlarging the main house (see High Victoriana « The Irish Aesthete) but also the adjacent stableyard, seen here. The nine bay, two-storey facade has a gable-fronted bays at either end and a single-bay central breakfront with entrance arch above which are the O’Hara arms and a clock set in a roundel. Inside the courtyard, the opposite side of the arch features a stone plaque bearing the date 1864 and Charles William O’Hara’s initials. James Franklin Fuller is thought to have been the architect responsible for work carried out on the house at the time, so he may well have had a hand here too. 


Empty Aisle, Deserted Chancel


Lone and weary as I wander’d by the bleak shore of the sea,
Meditating and reflecting on the world’s hard destiny,
Forth the moon and stars ‘gan glimmer, in the quiet tide beneath,
For on slumbering spring and blossom breathed not out of heaven a breath.

On I went in sad dejection, careless where my footsteps bore,
Till a ruined church before me opened wide its ancient door,
Till I stood before the portals, where of old were wont to be,
For the blind, the halt, and leper, alms and hospitality.

Still the ancient seat was standing, built against the buttress grey,
Where the clergy used to welcome weary trav’llers on their way;
There I sat me down in sadness, ‘neath my cheek I placed my hand,
Till the tears fell hot and briny down upon the grassy land.





There, I said in woful sorrow, weeping bitterly the while,
Was a time when joy and gladness reigned within this ruined pile;
Was a time when bells were tinkling, clergy preaching peace abroad,
Psalms a-singing, music ringing praises to the mighty God.

Empty aisle, deserted chancel, tower tottering to your fall,
Many a storm since then has beaten on the grey head of your wall!
Many a bitter storm and tempest has your roof-tree turned away,
Since you first were formed a temple to the Lord of night and day.

Holy house of ivied gables, that were once the country’s boast,
Houseless now in weary wandering are you scattered, saintly host;
Lone you are to-day, and dismal,— joyful psalms no more are heard,
Where, within your choir, her vesper screeches the cat-headed bird.

Ivy from your eaves is growing, nettles round your green hearth-stone,
Foxes howl, where, in your corners, dropping waters make their moan.
Where the lark to early matins used your clergy forth to call,
There, alas! no tongue is stirring, save the daw’s upon the wall.





Refectory cold and empty, dormitory bleak and bare,
Where are now your pious uses, simple bed and frugal fare?
Gone your abbot, rule and order, broken down your altar stones;
Nought see I beneath your shelter, save a heap of clayey bones.

O! the hardship, O! the hatred, tyranny, and cruel war,
Persecution and oppression, that have left you as you are!
I myself once also prosper’d; — mine is, too, an alter’d plight;
Trouble, care, and age have left me good for nought but grief to-night.

Gone my motion and my vigour — gone the use of eye and ear,
At my feet lie friends and children, powerless and corrupting here;
Woe is written on my visage, in a nut my heart could lie —
Death’s deliverance were welcome — Father, let the old man die.


Translation by Sir Samuel Ferguson of the Irish poem Machtnamh an Duine Dhoilghíosaigh (‘The Melancholy Mortal’s Reflections’) or, Caoineadh ar Mhainistir Thigh Molaige (‘Lament Over the Monastery House of Molaga’) by Seághan Ó CoileáinPictures of the 15th century Franciscan friary known as Moor Abbey, County Tipperary. 

 

Held Hostage



Gortnaclea Castle, County Laois is a 16th century tower house originally built by the Mac Giolla Phádraig family on a site overlooking the Gully river. It is famous for having been the place where in April 1600 Thomas Butler, 10th Earl of Ormond, a long-time ally of the English crown but by then aged almost 70, was held hostage by Owny MacRory O’More. At the end of the month, O’More sent his demands to the government, which included the removal of all English garrisons from that part of the country. This stipulation – and sundry others – were not met but the earl, by then in poor health, was eventually released after the payment of £3,000 (and lived for another 16 years). Of five storeys, Gortnaclea is a typical tower house of the period but unfortunately its easterly entrance front has long since collapsed, bringing down the spiral staircase which would have been immediately inside the main door; the graceful curving wall of the staircase can be seen on the north-east corner.


Into the Woods


In the mid-17th century, one Peter Carey from Devon came to Ireland and settled in County Cork where he acquired Ballymacpatrick, lying a few miles east of Fermoy and formerly part of the Condon estate on the river Blackwater. Generations of his descendants remained living in this place, the name of which was duly changed to Careysville: an early 19th century house built by the Careys survives here, although it is now owned by the Cavendish family. In the second half of the 18th century, Richard Carey, a younger son, became a Church of Ireland clergyman, as so often was the case with offspring not expected to inherit property. Although a prebendary of Donoughmore and Kiltegan in the diocese of Lismore, the Rev Carey lived in Clonmel, County Tipperary where he was associated with the local Free School. Both he and his son, Langer Carey, also a clergyman, lived a short distance south of Clonmel, just across the border into County Waterford, in a spot called Glenabbey.





Located on a spot overlooking the Glenary river, Glenabbey is supposed to derive its name from a mediaeval religious settlement, a grange established here by the Cistercian abbey of Inishlounaght not far from Clonmel. Following the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the mid-16th century, the lands of Inishlounaght – presumably including those at Glenabbey – passed by sale to Sir Edward Gough, his ownership confirmed in 1591 by the English crown. However, his grandson Patrick forfeited the property in 1641 and thereafter ownership of Glenabbey seems unknown until it became home to the Careys at the start of the 19th century.  





Although called Glenabbey House on the original 1840 Ordnance Survey Map, the remains here are now known as Carey’s Castle. Today surrounded by woodland owned by Coillte, Ireland’s forestry body, the property has a somewhat eccentric appearance, composed of a series of interlinking structures that incorporate a variety of architectural styles and themes. Evidently the intention was to suggest an ancient lineage, as indicated by the rather bizarre incorporation of a three-storey capped round tower into the largest part of the building. In fact, even this section is not especially substantial and contains no fireplaces (it may be that another part of the building immediately behind and now lost held some comfortable rooms). Carey’s Castle, while charming to look at, must have been rather unsatisfactory as a family residence, being more like a sequence of follies. To the immediate north of this main building, for example, is another that looks as though intended to serve as a chapel, except the arched windows are filled with rubble stones (and no evidence of openings ever existing on the other side of the same wall). In any case, it does not seem to have been used as a home for very long. The Rev Langer Carey died at the early age of 41 in 1830 and some years later his surviving family sold the property. The new owner is given as Lieutenant-Colonel Nuttall Greene, who already owned Kilmanahan Castle (see Shrouded in Mystery « The Irish Aesthete). Having greatly over-extended himself, in the aftermath of the Great Famine, Greene’s heir was forced to sell the family’s properties through the Encumbered Estates Court. After which Carey’s Castle was abandoned, and so fell into its present condition. 

Marooned



Located on the outskirts of Piltown, County Kilkenny, this early 19th century octagonal neo-gothic tower was erected by the third Earl of Bessborough as a monument to his second son Frederick Cavendish Ponsonby who was presumed to have been killed in battle during the Napoleonic Wars. The story is told that work began c.1810 when the young man was reported dead while participating in the Peninsula Campaign. However, it seems more likely that the tower was constructed in 1815 after Ponsonby was gravely injured at the Battle of Waterloo. Among his injuries on that occasion, he was knocked off his horse and wounded in both arms, then stabbed in the back while lying on the ground, ridden over by members of the Prussian cavalry and beaten up by other soldiers looking for plunder. Somehow, he survived all this and was brought to Brussels where months of recuperation followed. Ponsonby later went on to become a Major-General and Governor of Malta. As for this building, it was left incomplete until the middle of the last century when another storey was added so that it could be used as a water tower. Today it stands marooned in the middle of a traffic roundabout.


A Picturesque Feature in the Landscape


Seemingly there are some 100 places around the world called Newcastle, six of them located in Ireland (one of these, in County Meath, is a couple of miles away from the more substantial settlement of Oldcastle). Newcastle, County Tipperary is one of the smaller holders of the name, being a small village seemingly of little note. But it contains two substantial mediaeval ruins, one being a large 12th/13th century church and the other the castle from which Newcastle takes its name. 




The ‘new’ castle in County Tipperary presumably replaced an older one, but there does not appear to be any information about the latter. What remains can be seen close to the banks of the river Suir, the navigable possibilities of which was one reason for the choice of this site. The castle is believed to have been built for the Prendergast family, the first of whom Maurice de Prendergast, was among the Cambro-Norman knights who accompanied Richard de Clare (otherwise known as Strongbow) to Ireland and then settled here.  Around 1230 his grandson, William de Prendergast exchanged lands he had inherited in what is now County Limerick with Jeffrey de Marisco for those in this part of Tipperary. There may already have been some kind of castle already erected but the ruins seen today were certainly enhanced and enlarged by the Prendergasts who remained in occupation until the mid-17th century. In the aftermath of the Confederate Wars, Edmond Prendergast’s estates were taken from him by the Cromwellian government and the link with Newcastle broken. Edmond Prendergast’s grandson, Sir Thomas Prendergast, who grew up in poverty, led an extraordinarily adventurous life. Having fought in the service of James II, he allied himself to William III after the Treaty of Limerick. A Roman Catholic, he was involved in a Jacobite plot to kill the king, but then switched sides and provided evidence that helped to convict many of his former fellow-plotters. He then seems to have conformed to the Established Church and was rewarded with lands around Gort,  County Galway that provided an annual income of £500. Created a baronet in 1699, he acted as MP for Monaghan borough, 1703-09 while also serving in the army, rising to the rank of brigadier-general in February 1709. However, the following September he was killed at the Battle of Malplaquet.




The castle at Newcastle consists of a number of buildings enclosed within what remains of a bawn wall; among the more notable extant structures is a large vaulted hall and a circular tower, both relatively intact although much of the rest of the property is in poor condition. Quite when the castle was abandoned is unclear. One suggestion is that it was badly damaged in the late 1640s/early 1650s at a time when the Prendergasts were displaced. But the ruin of so many buildings in Ireland is attributed to Cromwellian forces that it is hard to know whether or not such was the case in this instance. Whatever the truth, the lands on which it stands were eventually granted to the Perry family, whose main residence from the early 18th century onwards was some ten miles north at Woodrooff, County Tipperary. In 1837 Samuel Lewis wrote that the old castle ‘forms a very picturesque feature in the landscape.’ Such remains the case today. 

Piercing the Sky



Piercing the sky, a slender tower in the graveyard of Brooklodge, County Cork. A square base with octagonal belfrey above, this is all that remains of a church erected here in the mid-19th century, on the site of an older structure (described as being in ruins as early as 1615): the main body of the building was demolished in 1923. In one corner of the surrounding graveyard is a large rectangular mausoleum, now almost enveloped in vegetation, erected by the Browne family who lived not far away at Riverstown House.


Saint or Goddess?


Later this week, February 1st will mark St Brigid’s Day. For those readers unfamiliar with her, Brigid is one of Ireland’s three national saints (the other two being Patrick and Columba), but not much is known about the woman. Supposedly she was born c.451, the daughter of a chieftain and a slave who had been baptised by St Patrick, was raised in a Druid household but then converted to Christianity and founded a religious house for women in what is now Kildare. Inevitably she also established other churches elsewhere in the country (early Irish saints were much given to roaming about the island) and performed many miracles. She is said to have died in 525 and a cult soon developed around her: the first account of Brigid’s life was produced during the following century by St Ultan of Ardbraccan. But did she actually exist? An increasingly popular theory proposes that Brigid was originally a pagan goddess, daughter of the Dagda (a kind of father-figure in ancient Irish mythology), and that with the arrival of Christianity her cult was simply transferred to a holy nun. The day on which she is annually celebrated, February 1st, happens to have been the occasion of a pagan festival marking the onset of Spring. This alternative image of Brigid is now widely promulgated: Dublin, for example, is about to host a five-day festival celebrating ‘the spirit and legacy of the Celtic goddess Brigit’, although quite what an imaginary deity’s spirit and legacy may be remains unclear. Meanwhile, in Kildare where the saint is supposed to have founded her community, the local authority is running Brigid 1500, a week-long festival intended to ‘celebrate and commemorate the extraordinary St Brigid, – A Woman, A Life, A Legacy- and the enduring impact of her life as we reach the 1500th anniversary of her passing.’





In the centre of Kildare town, St Brigid’s Cathedral is said to stand on the site where the aforementioned saint established a church and community of like-minded women in the year 480. This foundation survived long after Brigid’s death, becoming a double community of women and men, over which an Abbess ruled (as indeed, she held jurisdiction over the local bishop). Successive generations of nuns kept alive the memory of their founder by tending a fire which was never allowed to go out. In his Topographia Hibernia of c.1188, Gerald of Wales (otherwise known as Giraldus Cambrensis) wrote, ‘At Kildare, in Leinster, celebrated for the glorious Brigit, many miracles have been wrought worthy of memory. Among these, the first that occurs is the fire of St. Brigit, which is reported never to go out. Not that it cannot be extinguished, but the nuns and holy women tend and feed it, adding fuel, with such watchful and diligent care, that from the time of the Virgin, it has continued burning through a long course of years ; and although such heaps of wood have been consumed during this long period, there has been no accumulation of ashes.’ Gerald also noted that the fire was surrounded by a circular hedge made of stakes and brushwood, into which no man could enter. If any male was so foolish as to do so, ‘he will not escape the divine vengeance.’ Despite these supposedly secure defences, in 1220 Henry de Loundres, Archbishop of Dublin ordered the extinction of the fire. Meanwhile, the church first established by Brigid underwent similar traumas: it was pillaged and burnt by the Vikings in 835, then rebuilt before being burnt again on a couple of occasions in the mid-11th century and then plundered in 1136.





As seen today, St Brigid’s Cathedral was begun at some date in the 1220s by Ralph of Bristol, Bishop of Kildare. Like its predecessors, this suffered assault several times and, following the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the mid-16th century, fell into serious disrepair. The roof was taken off in 1588 and the building was judged ruinous in 1615. The diocese of Kildare was always among the poorest in the country, and this helps to explain why the cathedral was so often left in poor condition. In 1681 William Moreton embarked on restoring the building with what resources were available; he would write to the Duke of Ormond that he had ‘endeavoured the most since he came to Kildare to repair the insupportable ruins of it.’ Repairs to the choir, nave and chancel cost £500, of which £200 came from private subscriptions, with Moreton providing £112. Work was completed in 1686. Nevertheless, further dilapidation occurred and finally, in the mid-1870s and over the next 20 years, St Brigid’s Cathedral underwent a thorough restoration overseen by George Edmund Street, with an initial budget of £5,000 although the eventual cost was more than double this figure. This is the building seen today, rather severe with exposed stone walls and just a few ancient monuments, or parts of these, which had survived the various attacks on the fabric. Outside is a round tower, the second tallest in Ireland, which has similarly undergone repairs and improvements over the centuries. Brigid: Christian saint or pagan goddess? Take your choice…