The Irish countryside is replete with old graveyards, some of them better maintained than others. But oftentimes those left to fend for themselves are more appealing than well-ordered sites. That’s the case here, an old graveyard at a spot called Stone Cross in County Meath. Surrounded by fields and contained with the remains of a dry stone wall, the place holds a modest number of tombs, almost none of them upright, but instead looking as though they have been pitched about by high winds.
After Wednesday’s post about the Denis Kelly’s round tower at Killeroran, County Galway, it is worth pointing out that at the opposite end of the graveyard stands his the former mausoleum of the family which used to occupy the now-demolished Castle Kelly. On one side of the entrance is a handsome tombstone, erected to the memory of John Kelly who was interred here in March 1813. As was ever the case, his death is recorded as being ‘universally lamented.’
A rather skinny 19th century round tower found in the graveyard at Killeroran, County Galway. It was erected in 1867, ten years before his death, by Denis Henry Kelly who lived not far away at Castle Kelly (otherwise known as Aughrane Castle). Unfortunately long before he died, Mr Kelly was obliged to sell the house and it was then entirely demolished in 1919. Rising more than 90 feet, the tower carries an commemorative inscription in Irish, but beside it stands a more modesty-scaled tombstone recalling Mr Kelly’s two wives, ‘both English women, they set themselves to the duties of their Irish home, and lived beloved by all, high and low, & died universally lamented.’ The first is described as ‘the beautiful Mary Moseley’ and the second as ‘Elizabeth Diana, the lovely daughter of John Cator.’ Their husband was also very keen to record his spouses’ aristocratic connections, so Mary Moseley was noted as being ‘the near relative of the Earl of Stamford and of the Actons, now Lord Acton.’ Meanwhile, according to her husband Elizabeth Cator had the good fortune to be ‘the near relation of the Marquis of Sligo and of Sir Ross Mahon.’ However, despite these socially prestigious links, neither wife was permitted to share Mr Kelly’s monument.
Although the church that once stood here has long since gone, the little graveyard at Clonabreany, County Meath contains a number of charming old funerary monuments, not least that seen above. A notice at the site (together with a number of references to the graveyard found online) proposes that this altar tomb commemorates the parents of St Oliver Plunkett (mentioned here last week, see Lighting up the Night « The Irish Aesthete). However, the monument carries an inscription in Latin noting that it was erected to commemorate Oliver Plunkett, who died in 1581 and his wife Elizabeth Dillon (died 1595). Since St Oliver Plunkett was only born in 1625, the likelihood of this couple being his parents seems remote. Meanwhile, close by is another handsome monument, this time dating from 1779; it commemorates brothers Edward and Patrick Kearney, their parents ‘and their posterity.’
After last week’s post about a late 17th century stone cross at Robertstown, County Meath: in the adjacent graveyard stands – just about – this tombstone, featuring an image of the crucified Christ below which are the heads of two winged angels. The tomb was erected by local man Patrick Hand to commemorate his daughter Eleanor who had died in August 1836 at the age of 24.
The entrance to God’s Acre, a small Quaker graveyard in County Carlow. On the north side of the site is a monument erected by Feilding Lecky Watson in memory of his father and all members of his faith who had settled and lived in the area since the first half of the 17th century. In 1923 Mr Lecky Watson and his family moved to Altamont, some eight miles away (see https://theirishaesthete.com/2018/07/16/altamont-2) where first he and then his daughter Corona North created a spectacular garden. Like the rest of the family, following her death in 1999 she was buried here, her resting place marked by a simple stone.
‘In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.’
So opens East Coker, the second of T.S.Eliot’s ‘Four Quartets’. Apposite lines as more of our architectural heritage has been lost or is imperiled. But this, the first day of a new year, is an occasion for optimism, to feel that 2020 will be better than its predecessor, and that circumstances can be improved. Disappointed in the past, now is a moment to embrace the future, and to remember the lines with which Eliot closes the same quartet:
‘Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.’
The Irish Aesthete sends every good wish for 2020 to all friends and followers.
Seen in the grounds of St Mary’s, Killarney, County Kerry: the tombstone of William Wadd who, as the carving explains, acted as Surgeon Extraordinary to George IV. Wadd is remembered for being one of the first doctors to advocate a sensible approach to diet, in 1810 publishing his Cursory Remarks on Corpulence which explored the history and causes of obesity, concluding that it was due to ‘an over-indulgence at the table’ (such as that practiced by his royal patient). The work went through four editions, the last appearing in 1829, the year of its author’s death: Wadd had come to Ireland on holiday and was killed instantaneously outside Killarney after leaping from a runaway carriage. Hence his interment at St Mary’s.
From the Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, Volume XXVIII, Part IV (1898) by Francis Joseph Bigger: ‘The ancient church of Kilmakilloge stands on a rocky eminence a little north of Bunaw. Burials have been very numerous in the interior of the church ruins, and many bones and portions of coffins are strewn about. The gravestones clearly denote the overwhelming proportion of O’Sullivan to any other name; and one curious monument to the east of the church bears an inscription worth recording. This monument is a high, square altar-tomb raised on steps and supported on four carved pillars, the intervening spaces being filled with stone panels. On the east end is the following inscription “I H S This Monument contains the Last Remains of the Late McFININ DUFFE He DEPD THIS LIFE THE 1 DAY of SEPT 1809 aged 58 years Pater Patrie.” This McFinin Duffe was an O’Sullivan, and the last of his line.’