Glimpses into the Past


Barely a mile to the north of Castle Carra, County Mayo (see last Monday, Difficult to Locate without a Guide « The Irish Aesthete) can be another substantial ruin, this time of a religious settlement. Like the castle, Burriscarra Abbey, as it is now popularly known,  is believed to have been established by the Anglo-Norman Adam de Staunton. He granted the land here to the mendicant Carmelite order, founded by St Berthold in 1154. The date given for the establishment of the house at Burriscarra is 1298, just over a quarter century after the first Carmelite friary had been founded in Leighlinbridge, County Carlow. At Burriscarra, the friars did not remain in situ for long. For reasons unknown – perhaps warfare, perhaps devastation caused by the Black Death – by 1383 they had gone, after which the property lay abandoned for some 30 years. 





In 1413, the former Carmelite friary at Burriscarra was given to the Augustinian order which had already established a house elsewhere in the county at Ballinrobe (see Unclear Past, Unclear Future « The Irish Aesthete). The Augustinians appear to have been invited by Edmund and Richard Staunton, descendants of Adam de Staunton. On arrival, the friars found the place in a poor state of repair, these circumstances made worse in 1430 when the buildings were burned, presumably during one of the internecine disputes that bedevilled Ireland throughout the 15th century. In consequence, a Papal indulgence was granted to anyone who visited the church and gave alms for its repair.  After the rebuilding of the friary a dispute arose between the Carmelites and the Augustinians over ownership of the property. However, it appears the Augustinians remained in residence of the friary until, like all other religious houses, it was suppressed in the 16th century. In 1607 the lands of Burriscarra were granted by James I to one John King, who then sold them on to the Bowens, after which, like nearby Castle Carra, they passed into the possession of the Lynch family and eventually being taken into the care of the Office of Public Works. 





Today Burriscarra friary consists of a roofless church with a side aisle on its south-west side and the remains of a two-storey domestic range incorporating a cloister garth to the immediate north. Much of what survives likely dates from the rebuilding of the property in the 15th century, following damage caused by the fire of 1430. Access to the church is through a small round arched window at the west end. At the head of the building, what was once a very substantial east window occupying much of the gable wall was later blocked up and a much smaller opening created. The southern wall had another three large windows and while these remain, all their tracery is lost. Below these, in what would have been the choir, are a sedilia and piscina. The former is demarcated by a trefoil arch concluding on either side with a carved head, one of which has suffered considerable damage. Note also how the decoration of column capitals inside the arch differ from each other and that the ogee-headed window inside the arch is slightly off-centre, as also is the point of the adjacent piscina’s arch. The only window to retain its tracery can be found inside the side aisle, accessed via two large arched openings on the south wall nave. Like nearby Castle Carra and the subsequent 18th century house, what survives of this religious establishment offers us glimpses into the complexities of this country’s history.

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A Peculiar Melancholy Air



As previously mentioned, George Moore’s 1886 series of essays Parnell and his Island describes a duck shoot that brings him and another man to the ruins of Castle Carra, County Mayo. After leaving that building, the pair walk on an come across ‘the ruins of what is almost a modern house; there is a vast courtyard, and in the centre a colossal stone fox, and farther away is the ruin of a great gateway, and on the hill stand colossal foxhounds.’ This was what remained of a residence built probably at the start of the 18th century by Sir Henry Lynch and then abandoned by his son Robert. There was an earlier mention of the same property in 1836 when the Rev. Richard Butler of Trim and his wife Harriet (née Edgeworth) together with Harriet’s sister Maria and step-mother Frances came to stay with George Moore’s grandparents at Moore Hall, located to the south east of Castle Carra. The went to see the latter site which ‘had that peculiar melancholy air of modern decay belonging to houses which have been abandoned within the memory of man, and on passing through it to the grounds beyond, the party were startled at seeing immense busts on pedestals still standing in the long grass, the remains of former decorations. Ben Johnson, Congreve and some other of the later dramatists of Charles II’s time, were here, presenting a strange grotesque appearance, stained and weather-beaten in this wild and remote corner of the world.’ Since the time of the Butlers, and indeed of George Moore, the busts, as well as the colossal stone fox and hounds, have long disappeared, and the remains disintegrated much further, so that it is even more challenging to imagine how this great house and its surroundings once appeared. The best surviving remnants are the two immense stone gateposts, rising some 17 or 18 feet high. The ‘peculiar melancholy air’ observed by Harriet Butler also continues to hang over the place.



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Difficult to Locate without a Guide


In Parnell and His Island, originally published as a series of articles in Le Figaro in 1886, George Moore recalls an early morning duck shooting expedition on Lough Carra, County Mayo. He and his companion set off in the dark across the wind-tossed lake in a water-logged boat, landing before the remains of Castle Carra. Moore describes how, to escape the bitterly cold wind, the two men decide to take shelter in the building. ‘Dacre says he’ll be able to find the way, and after much scratching amid the bushes, and one cruel fall on the rocks, we reach some grass-grown steps and climb through an aperture into what was once probably the great hall. A high gable shows black and massy against the sky, and tall grass and weeds grow about our feet, and farther away the arching has fallen and forms a sort of pathway to the vault beneath. Centuries of ivy are on walls, and their surfaces are broken by wide fissures, vague and undistinguishable in the shadow and cold gloom. But as the moon brightens I see, some fifteen feet above me, a staircase – a secret staircase ascending through the enormous thickness of the walls. What were these strange ways used for? Who were they who trod them centuries ago? Slender women in clinging and trailing garments, bearded chieftains, their iron heels clanging; and as I evoke the past, rich fancies come to me, and the nostalgia of those distant days, strong days that were better and happier than ours, comes upon me swiftly, as a bitter poison pulsing in blood and brain; and regardless of my friend’s counsels, I climb towards the strange stairway, as I would pass backwards out of this fitful and febrile age to one bigger and healthier and simpler…’ 





Sited on a small peninsula on the eastern shores of Lough Carra, the castle here was built by the Anglo-Norman Adam de Staunton in the late 13th century. His descendants remained in possession of the property for the next 300 years, mixing with other local families and hibernising their surname to MacEvilly. In 1574 the castle’s owner was Moyler or Miles M’Evilly, but some time later the building and surrounding lands were acquired by Captain William Bowen, his possession confirmed by deed of feoffment dated November 1591 and made to him by Peter Barnewall, Baron Trimleston. How the latter came to have a claim on the place is unclear.  Following Captain Bowen’s death without an heir in 1594, Carra Castle passed into the ownership of his elder brother Robert Bowen who lived in County Laois. He in turn gave it to his younger son Oliver Bowen, who occupied the castle until the outbreak of the Confederate Wars in 1641 when he fled to Wales, dying there without issue in 1654. After the restoration of Charles II in 1660, Castle Carra was granted to Sir Henry Lynch, third Baronet, a member of the well-known Galway family. His grandson, Sir Henry Lynch (fifth baronet) took up residence in the area, building a new residence close to the old castle which was then abandoned. A series of formal terraces led from this house down to the lakeshore. However, following Sir Henry’s death in 1764, his heir Robert Lynch moved to another property in County Mayo, originally called Moate but then renamed Athavallie near the town of Balla; today this building is a community school. Sir Robert had married Jane Barker, granddaughter and heiress of Tobias Blosse of Little Bolsted, Suffolk and assumed the additional surname of Blosse, the family thereafter being known as Lynch-Blosse. Meanwhile, both the old castle and the more recently constructed house at Carra were abandoned, the latter building being described as ‘almost in ruins’ in a report on the estate prepared by civil engineer and land surveyor Samuel Nicholson in 1844. 





The core of Castle Carra dates from the time of Adam de Staunton in the late 13th century, although several alterations were subsequently made to the building. Measuring some 45 by 25 feet internally, and of three storeys with its entrance on the first floor of the south side, the roofless castle is an example of the mediaeval chamber-tower which typically comprised a rectangular block with large open spaces on the first-floor level. Later additions to the site include a plinth, bawn and gateway, these probably dating from the 15th century. Long neglected and in a relatively remote spot, an Irish Tourist Association survey undertaken in the early 1940s describes the castle as ‘difficult to locate without a guide’, and that remains the case to the present day. 


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A Good Gossip

Ballinderry Park, County Galway has featured here in the past (see Sturdy as an Oak « The Irish Aesthete) and indeed features in the recently published The Irish Country House: A New Vision (see A New Vision « The Irish Aesthete), a photograph of its dining room appears on the cover. Very sadly, Ballinderry Park’s owner, George Gossip, died recently, a great loss to anyone who was interested or engaged in the preservation of Ireland’s architectural heritage. 




Castlecarra, County Mayo

George and his late wife Susan (who died in 2015) were responsible for rescuing and restoring Ballinderry Park from what would otherwise have almost certainly have been dereliction and loss. Assisted by the late conservation architect Jeremy Williams, they transformed the house from almost ruin into a supremely comfortable home, amusingly described by one visitor as ‘more George than Georgian.’ Prior to moving there and undertaking this very substantial project, they had lived at Tullanisk, County Offaly where they offered accommodation to paying guests: among George’s many talents, he was an outstanding cook, as anyone who enjoyed his hospitality can testify. But his great passion was for the country’s historic houses, the people responsible for their creation and the fates that have befallen so many of them. Rather like Mariga Guinness before him, he loved setting out on expeditions to clamber around sites and see what might be found. The Irish Aesthete has experience of many such outings, often begun in the morning with the preparation of a picnic – usually eaten on the remaining stones of a long-fallen building – before the route was planned and the journey began. Our last such excursion was in July when the two of us left Ballinderry to drive through East Galway and then up to County Mayo where he wanted me to see the location of a once-great but now lost property at Castlecarra which had belonged to the Lynch family and which George believed had been built in the last quarter of the 17th century. As the pictures above indicate, little now remains here (as early as 1844 the house and offices were described by Samuel Nicholson as ‘now almost ruins’), except two vast gateposts signalling the entrance to the place, beyond which are various tumbling walls and – a short distance away – what was likely once a series of stable yards. This was one of only six – possibly more – stops made in the course of a day, despite George already being in poor health, evidence of his indefatigable curiosity and enthusiasm. And over the next week, he sent a stream of emails with further information and possible leads to find out more about Castlecarra and its history. For decades, he had been taking photographs of historic buildings, in a variety of structural conditions, and had thus built up a substantial collection: recently, these were place in the care of the Irish Architectural Archive, although unfortunately his intention to catalogue them did not come to pass. Another incomplete project on which he had been working for some time was a book chronicling Ireland’s sporting lodges, about which the two of us had many conversations. Sooner or later, one hopes, the book will be published.




Ballinderry Park, County Galway

George’s other important role was acting as a key figure, along with Susan Kellett of Enniscoe House, County Mayo (see Comfortable in its Own Skin « The Irish Aesthete) in the establishment in 2008 of Historic Houses of Ireland (originally Irish Historic Houses Association), as a registered Irish Charity. Founded with the active encouragement of the Government at the time, the HHI represents private owners of Irish country houses and supports them with the ongoing responsibilities and challenges that come with ownership of such properties. In doing so, the organisation effectively represents the interests of all such owners and houses, whether or not they are members, in a manner that previously did not exist. The Irish Aesthete has always been a keen supporter of the HHI, and indeed in 2020 established an annual prize to be given to a member in recognition of work undertaken to preserve this important part of our national heritage (see A Worthy Recipient « The Irish Aesthete for last year’s recipient). George had a clear vision of what the HHI could be and do, and was determined that it become a significant presence in Ireland and thereby better ensure the survival of our country houses. For this and so much else, we are all much indebted to him. He was, indeed, a very good Gossip.

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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.


Recalling Lost Houses


In his Topographical Dictionary of Ireland published in 1837, Samuel Lewis wrote of Kilcommon, County Mayo that the old church here, ‘was a chapel of ease, built in 1688 by Archbishop Vesey, who was buried in it, and was made the parish church on the church of Kilcommon becoming ruinous. The present church, which is also in Hollymount, was built in 1816, the late Board of First Fruits having granted a loan of £1000 ; it is a handsome building, with a cast iron spire, and is fitted up with English oak.’ The church, dedicated to King Charles the Martyr, is of cruciform shape and constructed of limestone ashlar; as Lewis noted, rather unusually, the spire is made of cast-iron. Services continued to be held here until November 1959 and the roof removed four years later. Seemingly the doorcase went to Ballintober Abbey and a wall monument remounted in St Mary’s Church, Ballinrobe, both in County Mayo, while the English oak mentioned by Lewis was repurposed in St Paul’s Church, Glenageary, County Dublin and the east window moved to St John’s Church, Lurgan, County Armagh.





In the same entry, Lewis notes that the family vaults of the Binghams, Lords Clanmorris, along with monuments of the Lindsey and Ruttledge families are to be found in the graveyard of King Charles the Martyr. The Binghams had settled in this part of the county in the mid-17th century and there built a house called Newbrook; it was accidentally destroyed in a fire in 1837 and not rebuilt. The monument, to the immediate east of the church, commemorates John Bingham who in 1800 agreed to surrender to the government the two parliamentary seats he controlled in the local borough in exchange for £8,000 and a peerage (for more on this, see Where Turkeys Voted for Christmas « The Irish Aesthete). Visitors to the graveyard note that the tomb is ‘Sacred to the memory of The Right Honorable John Charles Smith de Burgh Bingham, Lord Baron Clanmorris of Newbrook in the County of Mayo, A NOBLEMAN distinguished for the possession of those many eminent virtues which adorn life whether we consider him in the Character of a HUSBAND, FATHER, LANDLORD or FRIEND.’ Another side of the same monument observes that also interred here is Lord Clanmorris’s daughter Caroline Bingham, who died at the age of 15 in April 1821, a month before her father. The Lindsey family settled in the area in 1757 when Thomas Lindsey married Frances Vesey, a granddaughter of John Vesey who had built a house at Hollymount which she duly inherited; the family remained on the estate there until the start of the last century when it was sold to the Congested Districts’ Board. As for the Ruttledges, they lived at Bloomfield, a large house built c.1776. The tomb here commemorates Elizabeth, wife of Robert Ruttledge and daughter of Francis Knox of Rappa Castle, elsewhere in the county. According to the inscription, ‘Her engaging mildness unceasing humanity and warm affection endeared her to all her acquaintance and her uniform and unobtrusive piety together with the unremitting firmness with which she performed all her duties during a life of 56 years afforded them the consoling and confident hope that her soul fled to that place where the spirits of the just are made perfect.’





As already mentioned, the Bingham’s home, Newbrook, was destroyed by fire in 1837 and never rebuilt. Hollymount, originally built by Archbishop Vesey at the start of the 18th century but substantially altered in the 19th, was eventually inherited by Mary Lindsey who in 1885 at the age of 19 married Heremon FitzPatrick; his sister Mary FitzPatrick, better known as Patsy, was one of the great beauties of the late 19th century who at the age of 16 had an affair with the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) before being hastily married to William Cornwallis-West, with whom she had three children. Her brother Heremon, who had assumed the surname Lindsey, remained in possession of Hollymount until 1922 when it was sold; the house is now a ruin. Bloomfield, home of the Ruttledges, was similarly sold in the early 1920s, acquired by the Land Commision and subsequently damaged by fire, it is now a ruin. As for Rappa Castle, childhood home of Elizabeth Ruttledge, it too has become a roofless shell (see Crumbling is not an Instant’s Act « The Irish Aesthete). So this collection of tombs in the graveyard of a derelict church is all that remains to recall a series of once powerful families in County Mayo.

The Real Deel



The ruins of the late 18th century Deel Castle, otherwise known as Castle Gore, in County Mayo have featured here before (see Sent Up in Flames « The Irish Aesthete) but rather confusingly the remains of a second, older building with the same name stand close by. The original Deel Castle – which might be classified as the real Deel – is a tower house sitting above the river Deel, thought to date from the 16th century when constructed by the Bourke family, then dominant in this part of the country. Like so many other such buildings, it is rectangular but larger than usual, of four storeys and with a substantial bartizan on the south-west corner of the roofline, above which rise tall, narrow chimneystacks. As is also typical of tower houses, there is only one point of access, a modest arched doorcase on the west side. It remained in the possession of the Bourke family until the late 17th century when, after Colonel Thomas Bourke had fought on the side of King James in the Williamite Wars, the property was forfeited and granted to Sir Arthur Gore.




Born in London, Paul Gore (created a baronet in 1622) had come to Ireland in the late 16th century in the service of Elizabeth I as commander of a troop of horse and eventually settled in County Donegal, representing Ballyshannon for a number of years in the Irish House of Commons. Arthur Gore (created a baronet in 1662) was his second son, and likewise both a soldier and politician, becoming High Sheriff of both Mayo and County Galway, and later of Leitrim. Having settled in Mayo, he received the Bourkes‘ former property, Castle Deel and in due course, his son having predeceased him, passed this to his grandson, also called Arthur Gore. When Mrs Delany visited the place in 1732, she noted, ‘tis an old castle patched up and very irregular, but well fitted up and good handsome rooms within. The master of the house, Arthur Gore, a jolly red-faced widower, has one daughter, a quiet thing that lives in the house with him; his dogs and horses are as dear to him as his children, his laugh is hearty, though his jests are course.’ The second baronet’s son, yet another Arthur, was created Earl of Arran in 1762. It would appear that the family continued to live in Deel Castle but towards the end of the 18th century, the estate was leased to James Cuff, first (and last) Lord Tyrawley who built the now-ruined house within sight of the old castle. Cuff’s mother Elizabeth was a sister of Lord Arran, which helps to explain why he should have been granted a lease on the place. Lord Tyrawley had no legitimate heirs, although he had two illegitimate sons by an actress, one of whom, James Duff, lived in the new Deel Castle until his death in 1828, after which that building reverted back to the third Earl of Arran. As for the old castle, it was occupied by Colonel St George Cuff, thought to have been the illegitimate son of James Cuff; the colonel’s wife Louisa Maria Knox Gore, was descended in the maternal line from the second Earl of Arran, making the family connection clearer. It was only after the colonel’s death in 1883 that the old castle likewise returned to the Gores and remained with them until after 1921 when the new house was burnt by the IRA and left the ruin still seen today.




As already mentioned, the original Deel Castle was a substantial tower house. To the east of this, possibly as early as the 17th century, an extension was built which was probably further improved in the 18th century. A bartizan on the south-east corner of the extension certainly suggests an early date, since it would come from a time when the occupants of the building would consider themselves vulnerable to attack. In any case, this section is of three storeys and five bays, with a limestone Gibbsian doorcase on the groundfloor. The outline of a gable on the eastern side of the facade indicates that a further building once stood here, perhaps to match that which still extends forward immediately beyond the tower house to the west, thereby creating a courtyard in front of the building. Little remains inside either the original or the later structure, the roof long gone, along with the various floors, windows and chimneypieces: the external walls alone now survive. This decay has occurred only in the past 100 years since, unlike its neighbour, Deel Castle was not burnt during the early 1920s but still occupied. Only afterwards was it abandoned, and left to fall into the present state of ruin. 


Sharing the Site



In a graveyard high above Swinford, County Mayo is this mausoleum where members of the Brabazon family were formerly interred. The Brabazons had come to the area in the first half of the 17th century and were later responsible for developing the town, close to which they built a fine house, Brabazon House, which survived until 1980 when pulled down by the local Health Board. Also gone is St Mary’s, the Church of Ireland where they once worshipped, so this mausoleum, seemingly ‘repaired’ in 1828 by Sir William Brabazon, who was then MP for the area (and who died 12 years later after choking on a chicken bone), is the last remaining evidence of the family’s presence in the area. However, the Brabazons do not have the place to themselves: on top of the mausoleum is a large marble column topped with a cross, which commemorates one Patrick Corley who died in 1875 at the age of 60, while on another side of the mausoleum is a plaque dedicated to successive generations of the O’Donnel family who lived some five miles south at Fahyness (now Faheens).


In the Summer Time


Summerhill, County Meath has featured here before (see My Name is Ozymandias « The Irish Aesthete)  and is well-known as one of Ireland’s great lost country houses. But its namesake in County Mayo is probably less familiar to readers, although its striking remains are hard to miss when travelling through that part of the island. This second Summerhill was built and occupied by a branch of the Palmer family, which has also featured here (see Lackin’ a Roof « The Irish Aesthete). According to Burke’s Landed Gentry of 1846, ‘This family, long settled in Co Mayo, derives from a common ancestor with the Palmers of Palmerstown and Rush House, and is presumed to have been originally from Kent.’ By the second half of the 18th century, the Palmers owned a number of estates in north Mayo, Summerhill being one of them. 





Summerhill may have been built by Thomas Palmer, who died in 1757, or perhaps by his son, also called Thomas (as were successive generations of this branch of the family), meaning it was likely constructed around the mid-18th century. In 1798 the property was let to one John Bourke who, in August, following the landing nearby of a French force under General Humbert, organised to have the house secured. This proved a wise precaution as a number of other such properties in the area, including Castlereagh, seat of Arthur Knox, and Castle Lacken, owned by Sir John Palmer, were attacked and pillaged by a mob. Bourke’s home found itself under siege by the same band until a French officer based in Killala, Col Armand Charost, despatched a number of his troops, as was later reported, ‘to Summerhill to appease the mob, and another party of men to Castlereagh to save what remained of the provisions and liquors. The appearance of the emissaries ended the siege at Mr. Bourke’s house; but the Castlereagh party, which consisted entirely of natives, could think of no better expedient for preserving the spirits from the thirsty bandits that coveted them than by concealing as much as they could in their own stomachs. The consequence was that they returned to Killala uproariously drunk. As for Castle Lacken, it was completely gutted, and the occupant and his large family were driven out to seek shelter as best they could find it.’ Within a few years of these events, the Palmers were back in residence at Summerhill, and recorded as living there by Samuel Lewis in 1837 and also by Burke in his 1846 guide to landed gentry. However, in the second half of the 19th century, the property was sold to the McCormack family, who remained there until c.1929 when what remained of the estate, running to some 296 acres, was broken up by the Land Commission and the house subsequently abandoned. 





In his 1978 Guide to Irish Country Houses, Mark Bence-Jones noted certain stylistic similarities between Summerhill and Summergrove, County Laois (see A Gem « The Irish Aesthete). Both houses are of five bays and two storeys over raised basement, with the central pedimented breakfront single bay featuring a doorcase reached by a flight of steps and flanked by sidelights below a first-floor Venetian window. Summerhill’s facade has an oculus within the pediment, whereas Summergrove has a Diocletian window, but certainly the two buildings share many features. However, whereas the latter still stands and is in good condition, the latter is now a roofless shell: photographs from just a few decades ago show the majority of slates still in place, but the house is now open to the elements. When Bence-Jones visited, the interiors were still reasonably intact: he included a photograph of ceiling stuccowork, describing it as ‘in a simple and somewhat primitive rococo, complete with the odd rather amateurishly-moulded  bird.’ All now gone, as can be seen, and inside the house nothing left but bits of timber and plaster.  

Kept on Ice



Further to Monday’s post about Castle Gore, here is the property’s surviving ice house, located north-west of the now-ruined building and immediately above the river Deel. Prior to the invention of the refrigerator, ice houses were a common feature of country estates, ice being gathered during the winter months and then stored within such sites, usually sunken with an interior lined in brick, in order to preserve the ice for use during summer months. Although the roof is badly overgrown, this example – which probably dates from the late 18th century when Castle Gore was built – preserves much of its original form.