Tag Archives: Georgian Architecture

Offering Harbour Views



There appears to be little information about the origins or history of Harbourhill Lodge which, as its name implies, overlooks the little harbour at Newquay, County Clare. Of three bays and two storeys over raised basement, this is one of a number of such properties constructed along the coast in the late 18th/early 19th centuries as occasional homes for landowners whose main estates were elsewhere. It appears on the first Ordnance Survey map (published 1842) and was subsequently listed as being let to the Rev Michael J O’Fea by John Bindon Scott, whose family owned the Cahercon estate at the other end of the county. Ruined in the aftermath of the Great Famine, the Scotts sold up and left Ireland, and it is known that at the beginning of the last century Harbourhill Lodge had become a barracks for the Royal Irish Constabulary. Presumably dereliction began after the War of Independence, and now a hollow shell stands overlooking the harbour at Newquay.


Then and Now

 

In the middle of the 16th century, one Hans Fock moved from the north German city of Lübeck to Estonia, which was then coming under the control of Sweden. Around 100 years later, Queen Christina, shortly before her abdication, elevated Fock’s descendants to the Swedish peerage. After Sweden’s decisive defeat by Peter the Great at the Battle of Poltava in 1709 and the subsequent annexation of Estonia to Russian rule, Henrik Johann Fock moved first to Malmö and then to other parts of Sweden, where through marriage he came into possession of an estate. His heir, Jacob Constantin Fock acquired further property, including land at Råbäck in the county of Skaraborg; it is from this place that the family’s title, Baron de Robeck, derives. His son, Johan Henrik Fock, enjoyed a colourful career, including fighting against the British army during the American War of Independence, before moving to England where in March 1789 he married Anne Fitz-Patrick, heiress to a Galway landowner: four months after the wedding, by an Act of Parliament Fock was naturalised as a British subject under the name ‘John Henry Fock, called Baron de Robeck.’ The couple’s son, John Michael Henry Fock, after serving under General Sir John Moore in the Peninsula Wars, settled in Ireland where in 1820 he married the Hon Margaret Lawless, daughter of Valentine Lawless, second Baron Cloncurry. Famously, her parents had divorced after Lord Cloncurry had successfully sued Sir John Bennett Piers for criminal conversation with his wife. Alas, it proved to be a case of ‘like mother, like daughter’ and in 1828 the de Robecks were divorced after the baroness was found to be having an affair with Lord Sussex Lennox, a younger son of the fourth Duke of Richmond (the couple subsequently went on to marry and have three children). Baron de Robeck married a second time and in due course acquired a house in Dublin’s Merrion Square which at some date in the early 1850s he elaborately redecorated. 






Like its neighbours, 40 Merrion Square dates from the late 18th century and has a three-bay plain brick facade. Its interior was presumably decorated in similar style to those on either side, with neoclassical plasterwork and white marble chimneypieces. However, as mentioned already, the house underwent something of a transformation in the mid-19th century when occupied by the third Baron de Robeck. Here the two first-floor reception rooms were redecorated in elaborate Louis Quinze style, the walls covered with thin panels filled with pendants, urns, leaves, ribbons and musical instruments. Some of the panels were also filled with mirrored glass while pedimented roundels were inserted over the doors and, in the rear room, the central oval of the ceiling painted with a trompe-l’œil sky. The architect responsible for this scheme is unknown, although Christine Casey has suggested the Belfast firm of Lanyon, Lynn & Lanyon since soon afterwards it was commissioned by the fourth baron to design a new country house, Gowran Grange in County Kildare. He may have been inspired to do so by the unfortunate death of his father, the man who had undertaken the refurbishment of 40 Merrion Square. Aside from his residence in Dublin, the third baron also rented Leixlip Castle a few miles outside the city. While staying there in October 1856, he disappeared, his body only being found 11 days later; it would appear the baron, who had gone down to the edge of the river Liffey below the castle to see the Salmon Leap, had slipped and drowned. 






In the period after the third baron’s death, 40 Merrion Square served various purposes. During the First World War, it housed the Irish War Hospital Supply Depot, and at the time of the Easter Rising in 1916, it was transformed by Dr Ella Webb into an emergency field hospital capable of treating 50 patients. Later in the last century, the house’s neighbour, 39 Merrion Square, became the British Embassy until burned by rioters in the aftermath of Derry’s Bloody Sunday in January 1972. By that date, the state-owned Electricity Supply Board already owned 40-43 Merrion Square and the same body subsequently acquired and restored No.39. Various alterations were made to the buildings, not least openings made at different levels, allowing internal movement from one house to the next. A lift shaft was inserted to the rear of No.41 and the party walls between rear gardens largely demolished, with much of the ground covered in frankly prosaic buildings and sub-stations. In 2019 the ESB offered the quintet for sale as a single lot, bought two years later by a development company which has since undertaken a scrupulous restoration of the whole property, so that it now provides flexible workspaces for a variety of businesses. Today’s pictures show the first floor rooms of 40 Merrion Square before and after this recent refurbishment. 

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. 


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.


Tremendous Swagger



Francis Andrews was born in Derry 1718. The official Trinity College Dublin website describes his father as being a man ‘of independent means’, but the Dictionary of Irish Biography notes that contemporary gossip proposed Andrews senior had been imprisoned for debt. In any case, the parent died when his son was aged only two, after which the widow Andrews married a Mr Tomkins who took such good care of the boy, that the latter was able to attend Trinity College Dublin, graduating in 1737 and elected a Fellow three years later. He then read law at the Middle Temple in London and was called to the Irish Bar in 1746. Andrews was a noted bon viveur and his legal practice does not appear to have interfered with a very busy social life, at one time involving travel to Italy on a Grand Tour. Nevertheless, Andrews did possess scholarship, impressing professors in Padua with his knowledge of Latin and classical authors. The most momentous change in his circumstances occurred in 1758. He happened to be in London when it was announced that the Provost of Trinity College Dublin, Richard Baldwin, had died. A month later, Andrews was appointed by George II to the position, the first layman to hold the post since 1626. His close friendship with John Russell, Duke of Bedford and Richard Rigby, then respectively Lord Lieutenant and chief secretary of Ireland, are believed to have played a major role in securing him the Provostship as did – according to the same aforementioned gossip – lobbying by the popular actress Peg Woffington. In 1759 he was elected to the Irish House of Commons for the first time and to the Irish privy council two years later. Thereafter, despite – or perhaps thanks to – his responsibilities in the college, he served on innumerable committees and boards, as well as maintaining an already hectic social round. Not surprisingly, in 1774 he was obliged to travel abroad for the sake of his health, but died on his way back to Ireland. During his time as Provost, Andrews was responsible for establishing a number of new professorships, as well as a chair in music (its first incumbent was Garrett Wesley, first Earl of Mornington and father of the Duke of Wellington). He also oversaw much building work within the college, not least the construction of a residence for himself and his successors, the Provost’s House. 





Unquestionably the most splendid private residence remaining in Ireland’s capital, Number 1 Grafton Street is otherwise known as the Provost’s House. The building was commissioned by Francis Andrews in 1759, in other words almost immediately after he had taken up his new post; previous provosts had occupied lodgings in the college quadrangle, so this was something of a departure, not least because the house with its substantial forecourt closed off from the street by a high stone wall, looks more like a nobleman’s palace than an academic’s residence.  The splendour of the place was immediately and widely recognised. In September 1764, a London newspaper, the St James’s Chronicle, reported ‘The King of France has not so splendid a palace in all his Dominions as that the University [of Dublin] has lately erected for its Provost.’ The building is thought to have been designed by Dublin architect John Smyth, although as is well known the facade is a shameless copy of the garden front of General Wade’s London residence, designed by Lord Burlington in 1725 (and demolished in the 1930s). That design was, in turn, taken from one of Andrea Palladio’s drawings owned by Burlington. Smyth had form here: St Thomas’s church on Marlborough Street, Dublin which he designed around the same time was directly modelled on Palladio’s church of the Rendentore in Venice (the church was destroyed in 1922 during the Civil War). As for the Provost’s House, even at the time its indebtedness was noted; in 1761 George Montagu, then living in Dublin while his cousin the Earl of Halifax was Lord Lieutenant, wrote to Horace Walpole, ‘The provost’s house of the university is just finished after the plan of General Wade’s, but half of the proportions and symmetry were lost at sea in coming over.’ The only difference between the earlier buildingsand this one is that the Provost’s House is flanked by long, low pedimented single-storey wings.





The fine vaulted entrance hall of the Provost’s House in Trinity College Dublin is divided into two sections by a pair of substantial arches, behind which lie two ground floor reception rooms and a pair of staircases. The walls here are rusticated in wood, painted to imitate stone, that material used for the flagged floor and the chimney piece on the south wall. To the rear on the ground floor, the drawing room is surprisingly modest but the neighbouring three-bay dining room, in keeping with Francis Andrews’ fondness for social life, is altogether more substantial and elaborate in its decoration. Here the stuccowork, as elsewhere in the building, was undertaken by siblings Patrick and John Wall, while James Robinson and Richard Cranfield were responsible for the carving. Moving upstairs,  the first-floor saloon is one of the great rooms of 18th century Dublin, only comparable to that in 85 St Stephen’s Green (see The Most Beautiful Room in Ireland? « The Irish Aesthete).. Running the entire length of the building, the saloon is lit by a west-facing central Venetian window flanked by pairs of sash windows. With its deep coved ceiling, the space is divided in three by two Corinthian columnar screens, while elaborately carved chimneypieces can be found on either side of the door giving access to the saloon. At the southern end of the space hangs a portrait of the man responsible for its creation, the aforementioned Francis Andrews, painted by Anton von Maron, presumably when both men were in Rome. Facing him at the other end of the room is a portrait by Thomas Gainsborough of John Russell, Duke of Bedford, Chancellor of the University, 1765-1771 and old friend of Francis Andrews. A room of tremendous swagger, the saloon, like the rest of the Provost’s House, testifies to the assurance of Ireland in the mid-18th century.


In Memory




After Monday’s post about the Ponsonby tombs at Fiddown, County Kilkenny, here is a less well-preserved old church: the shell of an early 18th century building at Anatrim, County Laois. A simple barn-like structure, it is distinguished by the stocky, three-stage tower at the west end and a Venetian window, now largely blocked with stones, to the east. The church ceased to be used for services when a new one was built to the immediate south in 1840. What survives in the interior are a couple of fine wall monuments, one to the Delaney family of Ballyfin with a coat of arms inside a cartouche flanked by urns beneath a pediment (†1731-1770), and the other a plain tablet with broken segmental pediment commemorating Isaac Sharp of Roundwood (†1756). In the surrounding graveyard is the Sharp family’s barrel-vaulted mausoleum.



Let us Leave Something to Testify that we have Lived


Originally from Cumberland, Sir John Ponsonby came to Ireland in the early 1650s and was appointed a commissioner for taking the depositions of Protestants concerning murders said to have been committed during the Confederate Wars: as a reward for his labours, he was granted a large parcel of forfeited lands at Kildalton, County Kilkenny. These had previously belonged to the Anglo-Norman D’Alton family (hence the name Kildalton, meaning Church of the Daltons). Appointed Sheriff of Counties Wicklow and Kilkenny in 1654, and elected to represent the latter in the first post-Restoration Irish parliament, Sir John Ponsonby married as his second wife an heiress, Elizabeth Folliott, in whose honour he renamed his Irish estate Bessborough. (For more on this house and its history, please see In the Borough of Bess « The Irish Aesthete and Back to Bessborough « The Irish Aesthete) When he died in 1668, he was buried in the church at Fiddown, several miles to the south of his property. Inside this building and to the immediate right of the east wall window, is a simple framed memorial declaring ‘Here lies ye body of Sir John Besborough who departed this life Anno Dom 1668 in ye 60th year of his age.’ Generations of his descendants came to be laid to rest in the same place, and today the little church remains a rare example in Ireland of a church filled with monuments to the same family. 





A religious settlement is thought to have been established at Fiddown in the sixth century, but the origins of the present building can be traced back to c.1200. Like so many others, the church evidently underwent some vicissitudes during the 17th century and in 1731 Dr Edward Tenison, then Bishop of Ossory, reported it was in need of a new roof and that the walls needed to be pointed; the following year, ‘the roof was taken down in order to put on a better one.’ The rector during this period, the Rev Robert Watts, was energetic in his ambition to improve the condition of the building and ensure its future. To the left of the east window, a white marble plaque framed in black Kilkenny marble advises ‘This Chancel was Rebuilt and Beautified by Revd Robert Watts M.A. Dean of St Canice and Vicar of Fiddown 1747 who after a Contest at Law and in Equity Carried on for Nineteen Years and Fifteen hundred Pounds Expended by him Recovered the Great Tithes of the Parish from the Subtractor for the Benefit of all Succeeding Incumbents. Quatenus nobis Denegatur dui Vivere Relinquamus aliquid que nos vixisse testemur.’ (Insofar as it is denied to us to live, let us leave something to testify that we have lived). Evidently at some earlier date, a righ to the tithes from this parish had been granted to someone else, but the Rev Watts was determined to have them back and went to law in order to make sure this happened. In 1748 he presented the church with a set of communion plate., no doubt benefiting from the additional income he now enjoyed thanks to the restitution of tithes. The building continued thereafter to be in excellent repair; at the start of the 19th century it was reported to have been ‘very handsomely fitted up by the late Earl of Bessborough’ (presumably the second earl who had died in 1793). Following a visitation by the Bishop of Ossory in 1829, the church was described as being ‘in excellent repair both inside and outside, all the wood work has been recently painted, and a new Gallery and Vestry Room have been erected.’ Average attendance at services was given as 40. The earliest Ordnance Survey maps show the building to have been considerably larger than what can be seen today on the site. Following the construction of a new Church of Ireland church in Piltown in 1859-62, the main body of its predecessor at Fiddown was taken down, leaving only the chancel which by then had been serving for almost 200 years as the Ponsonby family’s mortuary chapel.





A number of memorials inside Fiddown church commemorate members of the Briscoe family, who also lived in this part of the country. (The surrounding graveyard contains a tomb marking the burial place of one Edward Briscoe, ‘of Crofton in the County of Cumberland in England, who departed this life the 20th day of July Anno Dom 1709 and in the 58th year of his age.’ Sir John Ponsonby’s first wife, Dorothy Briscoe likewise came from Crofton, Cumberland, so it seems safe to assume that Edward was some relative of the family). But the greater part of the church’s interior is dedicated to celebrating the Ponsonbys, with the north wall dominated by a large memorial devoted to Brabazon Ponsonby who in 1744 rebuilt Bessborough, five years after he had been created first Earl of Bessborough. This splendid monument features the earl and his wife dressed as ancient Romans atop an engraved sarcophagus, the whole set within a frame of Sienese marble columns supporting a pediment carrying the family arms. The inscriptions reads ‘Under this Marble lie the Remains of Brabazon Ponsonby, Earl of Bessborough, Viscount Duncannon and Baron Bessborough in Ireland, and Baron Ponsonby of Sysonby in Leicester Shire in Great Britain, and of Sarah his wife Grand Daughter and Heiress to Primate Margetson. The Virtues of their Private lives need not here be Recited, they are Engraved in the Hearts and Minds of many who will deliver them from one Generation to another beyond the duration of a Perishable Tomb. This monument is Erected, not as a necessary Memorial of them but as a Testimony of Gratitude and Respect owing from their son William Earl of Bessborough.  He had the Honor of Serving his Majesty King George the 2nd in Several Publick employments of great Trust and Dignity and Departed this Life July 1758 aged 81. She in May 1733 aged 52.’ The work is signed on one side by W Atkinson of London (d.1766). Both the second and third earls lived for the greater part of their lives in England and the church therefore has no monuments to either; it was only in the 19th century that the fourth earl and his family settled back at Bessborough and thereafter further memorials were added to the interior so that today they stretch back over three centuries. As already mentioned, cuch buildings are not common in Ireland, although a similar example stands not too far away at Clonagam, County Waterford which is likewise filled with funerary monuments, this time to the de la Poer Beresfords, Marquesses of Waterford (please see Awaiting the Day of Judgement « The Irish Aesthete). 

A Monument to Past Follies


Follies, the name given to buildings that serve no purpose other than to delight the eye, were as popular in 18th century Ireland as they were in other parts of Europe during the same period. James Howley’s invaluable The Follies and Garden Buildings of Ireland (1993) notes that part of the charm of these buildings lies in their inconsistency, their failure to comply with recognisable categories of style. ‘In one sense, their designers are architecture’s greatest plagiarists, happy to quote unashamedly from anything good that is going, with a rather cavalier attitude to time and geography.’ Even reaching consensus on what qualifies as a folly is something of a challenge, although in Monumental Follies (1972) Stuart Barton rather neatly summarised them as ‘foolish monuments to greatness and great monuments to foolishness.’ In the same year as this work appeared, the late Mariga Guinness claimed that Ireland had more follies to the acre than anywhere else in the world, and while that assertion has yet to be put to the test, it is certainly true that this country has an ample supply of such buildings, although alas many of them have now fallen into a ruinous state. One such folly can be found in Nurney, County Kildare.





Curiously not mentioned by Howley, the Nurney Folly, like so many of its kind, sits on a rise so that it can be seen from some distance and also offers views over the surrounding countryside. The lower part of the structure is square and built of rubble stone, with openings at the centre of each side. The interior, a single chamber, is lined in brick, with a brick floor and a vaulted ceiling which has a small opening at its centre. To what would have been the rear of the folly, where the land drops steeply towards a tributary of the river Barrow, there is a lower floor, with two openings. Most likely this was a storage area where food and drink could be prepared by servants for those visiting the room above. On top of that space rises a great brick octagon, considerably taller than the square base on which it rests. On this level there is only one opening, facing north. From the ground, no trace of a roof can now be seen. Who was responsible for commissioning the building appears to be unknown. The nearest owners of a substantial property were the Bagot family who lived in Nurney Castle (since demolished), so perhaps the folly was constructed for them. They remained in Nurney until the mid-1830s but had departed by the time Samuel Lewis published his Topographical Survey of Ireland in 1837 when the property was occupied by one J.W. Fitzgerald Esq. It transpires that Nurney Castle’s previous resident, Captain Charles Bagot, had emigrated with his family to Australia: in Adelaide they built a new home, which in memory of their old one, they called Nurney House. 





In design, the Nurney Folly bears similarities with two others in this country, one at Waterstown, County Westmeath (see The Wings of the Dove « The Irish Aesthete), the other at Emo, County Laois (see Deep in the Woods « The Irish Aesthete). Although more elaborate in their decorative detail, both feature octagons resting on square bases, and both have been attributed to Richard Castle, suggesting they were built during the second quarter of the 18th century. Noble & Keenan’s map of Kildare, produced in 1752, shows the folly, indicating that it is of the same period as the other two. The earliest Ordnance Survey map, dating from the late 1830s, describes the building as a Pigeon House (and the surrounding area as Pigeonhouse Hill). It may be that the upper portion of the folly was used for this purpose, as was also the case at Waterstown, while the lower part served as a destination in the demesne of Nurney Castle, a place in which to pause and take tea (or something stronger). Or it could be that by the time of the survey was being undertaken, the original purpose – or lack of purpose – of the folly had been forgotten and therefore this function was given to it. Whatever the case, today it stands forlorn on the edge of the village, a monument to the follies of earlier generations. 

A Feature on the Landscape


Currently on the market with some 70 acres, Landscape House, County Waterford is thought to date from c.1790 when it was owned by the Congreve family: their main residence, Mount Congreve, lies some 20 miles to the south-east.  On a raised site overlooking the south bank of the river Suir, it’s a relatively small building, three bays and two storeys over basement, and was perhaps intended to serve as a dower house or perhaps a residence for a land agent. Samuel Lewis in his Topographical Dictionary of Ireland (1837) refers to it as a seat of the Congreves, but it may have been let. Certainly, in 1853 Captain Charles Boycott rented Landscape House for a year before he moved to Mayo where he became agent for the then-Earl of Erne and, owing to subsequent events, unwittingly bequeathed a new word to the English language. 




Landscape is a curious building, both grand and yet modest. Like other small country houses of the period, it borrows features from larger properties in order to indicate the owner’s aspirations. Here, for example, on either side of the front, symmetrically curved curtain walls conceal modestly-proportioned yards, each of which holds a single-storey pavilion, the interior of which is lit by a generously-proportioned arched Gothick window (one of these pavilions was discreetly extended some decades ago and turned into guest accommodation). The curtain walls and pavilions pay  homage to Palladian grandeur, but on an altogether less ostentatious scale. Current taste is acknowledged, even emulated, without being precisely copied. 




The interior of Landscape House manifests the same stylistic traits found outside, not least an aspiration to magnificence. The building was originally T-shaped, with three rooms to the front on each floor and behind them one very substantial room closed by a great three-bay bow that offers views down to the river. Seemingly in the 1940s, the areas on either side of the bow were filled in with flat-roofed, single-bay extensions in order to create more space inside the house, hence its present appearance. With its half-conical slated roof and lines of windows, those on the ground floor especially substantial, the rear of Landscape must have looked quite remarkable before alterations were made. It would then have had a very distinctive character, one that paid homage to contemporary architectural taste while simultaneously proposing an alternative option. And still today, the house lives up to its name by being a noteworthy feature on the landscape. 

Almost Identical Twins



The entrance gateway to the now-demolished Lissadorn, County Roscommon. Extant photographs show this to have been a fine house of three bays and three storeys over raised basement, possibly late 18th or early 19th century in construction. The design of this neoclassical triple archway, thought to date from c.1825, has been attributed to the Roscommon architect Richard Richards, not least because at that time he was working at Mount Talbot, some 25 miles to the south. The unfortunate history of that house has already been told (See An Unhappy Tale « The Irish Aesthete), and, as if to confirm that Richards designed the Lissadorn entrance, it is almost identical to that at Mount Talbot, the only difference being that the former lacks the keystones seen in the latter’s arches.