The main entrance to Portora Royal School, Enniskillen, County Fermanagh. Originally founded by royal charter in 1618 but not moving to its present site until 1778, this educational establishment numbers among its alumni (‘Old Portorans’) both Oscar Wilde and Samuel Beckett. Neither writer would have passed through these gates however, since they were only moved to this site more recently. The paired Corinthian columns originally formed part of the bow-fronted portico to Innismore Hall, a nearby house dating from the 1840s. Following its demolition in the 1950s the columns were moved here and incorporated into a newly-formed gatescreen.
The former Church of Ireland church at Odagh, County Kilkenny. Dating from 1796 and built with assistance from the Board of First Fruits, it remained in use for services until the late 1950s and was unroofed some thirty-five years ago. In 2012 permission was granted for conversion of the church into a two-bedroom domestic dwelling and evidently some work then took place on the site. It is now on the market.
The triumphal arch marking the entrance to Rosmead, County Westmeath. Its design attributed to English architect Samuel Woolley and dating from the mid-1790s, the arch is of limestone embellished with Coade stone ornamentation, now badly weathered: the design once also included urns and statuary but this has all long-since gone. The arch was originally erected at Glananea some seven miles away in the same county. The latter property had been built by Ralph Smyth, whose family owned several estates in the area, and who called his property Ralphsdale. Having had the arch erected, he came to be known locally as ‘Smyth with the Gates.’ Tiring of the nickname he disposed of the arch to its present home, only to find himself given the new title ‘Smyth without the Gates.’ Ironically, while Rosmead is now just a shell Glananea still stands, so perhaps it would have been better for the arch to have remained there.
And so 2016 draws to its close, a year which for many people around the world has been so crowded with shock one suspects its departure will not be much mourned. But like Barthelemy Cramillion’s mid-18th century stucco bird (originally in Mespil House, now in Dublin Castle, for more see Head in the Clouds, March 2016) we must try to soar above our present circumstances and hope the future will bring better times. And like the elephant below in the entrance hall of Huntington Castle, County Carlow, we can do our best to move forward slowly and steadily. To paraphrase Samuel Beckett: Well, shall we go on? Yes, let’s go on.
Above are three images of the main staircase in the former Archbishop’s Palace, Cashel, County Tipperary. Long attributed to Sir Edward Lovett Pearce and dating from c.1730 this building is rightly deemed important for retaining much of its original interior, not least these stairs in red pine. Its features include a richly carved apron below the first-floor gallery and the balusters, those on the return capped with Corinthian columns, the others being fluted in their upper section and with barley-sugar twists in the lower.
One of the past year’s happiest moments has been the discovery of the Cashel Palace staircase’s ‘twin’ in a house in County Westmeath. Although the two buildings have little in common externally (and the latter is usually dated much later), both share this interior feature which in design and execution alike are essentially identical, the Westmeath apron being slightly more elaborate. More research needs to be undertaken on the subject: something to look forward to in 2017…
As many readers will be aware, right across Ireland can be seen the remains of hundreds, possibly thousands, of former fine residences dating from the seventeenth century onwards. Even in ruin their scale makes them prominent marks on the landscape, testaments to our country’s history, witnesses to an order which once prevailed but has now passed. Because of the societal and economic imbalance they represented, many of today’s citizens understandably do not mourn their passing. Nevertheless they are part of the national narrative. We ought at least to know their stories, so that they can better inform our own. Unfortunately their mute condition today often means we know little or nothing of each building’s distinctive tale, of how they came into being and then fell into decline. Once this information was familiar, if only to those who occupied the property, or worked on the estate. Now it has frequently been forgotten and another property’s unique character becomes part of the generic ‘Big House’ story. This seems to be the case with Nettleville, County Cork, yet another ruin about which relatively little information is available.
Around 1630 John Nettles moved here from Herefordshire around 1630: inevitably he is described in Burke’s Landed Gentry of 1871 as springing from ‘an ancient English family’ (perish the thought that anyone’s background might not disappear into the foggiest mists of time). Evidently he flourished here since in 1666 he was confirmed by Charles II in a grant of land of 1,258 acres in Counties Waterford and Cork, although his residence was in the latter at Tourin, later to pass into the ownership of the Musgrave family. It was his second son, Robert Nettles, who came to live on an estate where the remains of Nettleville can now be found. On the failure of this line of the family, the Cork property passed back to the main branch, and in the second half of the 18th century was inherited by Captain Robert Nettles. Ambrose Leet’s 1814 Directory lists Nettleville as occupied by the Rev Bazil Orpin, who had married one of the Nettles daughters. However, his tenure was only temporary. Although Captain Nettles and his wife had five sons, four of them died young either through accidents or in warfare (one, Ensign William Nettles being killed at the Battle of Waterloo). That left a single heir, Richard Nevill-Nettles who on the death of his father in 1828 inherited Nettleville. He in turn was succeeded by his only son Robert Nettles, listed in the 1870s as owning 1,684 acres in County Cork. Seemingly Nettleville was still occupied by the Nettles family at the start of the last century but thereafter there does not appear to be further mention of them, leading to the supposition that they died out. Interestingly in September 1919 the Irish Builder mentions Cork architect Bartholomew O’Flynn being employed at Nettleville to carry out alterations and additions, so evidently someone was still living there.
And so to Nettleville, which in the national register of buildings is listed as being built c.1800, although one suspects this is speculative since what survives of the building makes it difficult to discover any specific design features that would allow more precise dating. The south-facing front of the house, now completely immersed in vegetation, is of two storeys over basement but since the site slopes the rear – which looks down to a point where the river Lee loops around on itself – is of three storeys. On this side, to the east of the house is a single-storey extension with narrow arched niches but there does not seem ever to have been its equivalent to the west. While in the main built of dressed sandstone, the house’s windows feature cut limestone sills and red brick voussoirs; no doubt the whole exterior was originally rendered to give a uniformity of appearance.
A short distance to the south-east lies a large yard, the greater part of which is in better condition than the house it was created to serve. Centred on a fine arched gateway, its pediment extended to accommodate a bell, the yard effectively divides into upper and lower sections, assisted once more by the sloping site. Handsomely constructed, and still, at least in part, serviceable, it demonstrates this was once a thriving estate. Now, however, Nettleville is just another ruin on the Irish landscape and its voice in our historical narrative grows weaker as the old buildings grow closer and closer to complete disappearance.
Earlier this year, the ‘barracks’ at Clomantagh, County Kilkenny featured here (An Architectural Conundrum, August 15th) with some speculation on its origins and date since, as the name implies, it has long been associated with the Royal Irish Constabulary. As a result, a notion had gained currency that the building was constructed as a barracks for the force. However, James Butler, whose family owned the property from the 1870s-80s until the first decade of the present century, has been in touch with information and memories, extracts of which are given below: ‘The barracks would have been purchased by my great great grandfather James Butler, in the second half of the 19th century. I believe the RIC vacated the buildings and moved into another barracks in Tullaroan. I spoke to my grandfather about it in the 1980s and hastily wrote what I remembered when I got back to my uncle Noel’s house (behind the barracks and up the road towards Johnstown) on a scrap of paper which I still have…’
These recollections include the proposal that the adjacent mill (which was only demolished in 2005) had been built after the Great Famine. However, Samuel Lewis’ Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (published 1837, that is several years before the onset of famine), notes ‘The Clomanto flour-mills, capable of manufacturing about 12,000 barrels annually, are impelled by a small river that intersects the parish; and attached to them is a large starch-manufactory, both belonging to Mr. W. Lyster.’ It would appear that the ‘barracks’ was owned by Lyster and then passed into the possession of the RIC before eventually being acquired by the Butlers.
Their descendant continues: ‘Now, the state of the barracks. I can assure you it was never attacked or burned down by the IRA. Simply because my grandfather was then the owner and he was also a volunteer in the IRA. There are no scorch marks to be seen anywhere. My grandfather spent most of the war of independence in various English gaols…You mention 1805 on the bell housing. I remember the housing but I don’t remember the year. Considering the RIC was only there from 1840-1860 then I suggest it is not a purpose built barracks but instead belonged to the Lyster family, as did the mill. It would have needed horses to take processed grain to market. The RIC may only have used it temporarily whilst the Tullaroan barracks were built. Although 20 years is a long temporary…The alcove to the right of the exit under the bell was a milking parlour. I remember gun dogs in another ground floor room. Possibly the other alcove to the left. My father remembers a small cinema occasionally set up for the community also in one of the groundfloor rooms. Upstairs was always full of hay. The fields above leading to my uncle’s place was usualy planted with wheat…’
These recollections show how, although Ireland is a small country, much of its architectural history remains to be studied, ideally before the relevant buildings are forever lost.