Tag Archives: Historic Interiors

All’s Wells



Buried inside the present 19th century Wells House in County Wexford is a much older building, thought to date from the second half of the 17th century. This was constructed by John Warren, a soldier in the Commonwealth army, who as payment for his service was granted more than 6,000 acres here. A ‘plain square building’ the original Wells and surrounding estate were sold in 1704 to Robert Doyne, whose descendants would continue to own the property until 1966. The Doynes claimed descent from the medieval Gaelic sept of Ó Duinn (O’Dunne), lords of Uí Riagáin (Hy‐Regain) in that part of Ireland that is today known as County Laois. Around the time that Warren had been granted the land at Wells, Robert Doyne’s father had been deprived by the Commonwealth government of his own property. However, the family successfully regained what had been lost: it helped that Robert Doyne had conformed to the Established Church, become a wealthy barrister and married a widow who brought money and property with her. Hence he could afford to buy the Wells estate, along with other lands so that by the time of his death he had built up a holding of some 9,800 acres. 





As mentioned, the present Wells House dates from the late 1830s when designed by Daniel Robertson for another Robert Doyne who, like his forebear, had married a wealthy widow, Annette-Constantia Uniacke, a niece of the first Marquess of Waterford. It is easy to understand why the Doynes should decide that work needed to be undertaken on what was their principal residence. Samuel Lewis, writing in 1837, noted that the earlier house on the site ‘was, for nearly three years after the disturbances of 1798, occupied as a barrack by the king’s troops ; it is now about to be rebuilt in the Elizabethan style by the proprietor, as a residence, and will in future be called Wells Abbey.’ While the change of name does not appear to have taken place, by 1844, James Fraser could write that the house ‘has been recently repaired, and altered from a plain square building to the early style of Tudor architecture; and the grounds around the mansion, and the approaches to it, are in process of formation in a style conformable thereto.’ Doyne had evidently been thinking of giving the family home a new appearance for some time, having commissioned designs from Thomas Cobden in 1819 (a classical design) and then for additions and alterations from Sir Richard Morrison in 1836. But ultimately he opted for Robertson’s scheme, which like so much of the latter’s work, evoked 16th century manor houses, with an asymmetrical facade incorporating an abundance of gables and clusters of chimneys. The result, unusually faced mellow red brick is, as Frederick O’Dyer has noted, more English in style than the majority of Robertson’s houses, which tended to be faced in either granite or limestone. 





The seven-bay Wells House is of two-storeys over basement with a dormer attic, a breakfront gabled centre bay incorporating a large Tudoresque doorcase. Both end bays also break forward and are gabled, a gentle asymmetry introduced by that to the north having a canted bay window on the first floor (this lights the main staircase). The garden front presents a more balanced appearance. As might be expected from its exterior, the main reception rooms of Wells House, County Wexford are very much in the Tudorbethan mode, with the use of oak panelling in a variety of styles, as well as Gothic-style timber panelled doors and shutters, and groin vaulted ceilings. The double-height staircase hall is particularly fine, with cast-iron balusters supporting carved a timber banister terminating in Gothic-style octagonal newels and a timber surround to the canted bay window found on the half-landing.
An unexpected change of decorative styles can be found in the drawing room, which is panelled in white and gilt rococo boiseries. Whether original Louis XV or a later imitation of that period’s style it is hard to tell, and no information appears to exist about their origins, although surviving plans indicate they were installed when the house was given its present form by Robertson. Might the boiseries have been acquired by Robert Doyne when, as a young man, he had embarked on a Grand Tour of mainland Europe, in the company of no less than Beau Brummell? The quality of workmanship is high, many of the panels filled with a multitude of small fleurs-de-lis, while close to the top of the walls at either end of the room are two elaborately carved panels, one featuring musical instruments and sheets of music, the other a quiver of arrows and the head of Diana. And it all fits the room perfectly, so was either created for this space or else, if from somewhere else, adapted accordingly. In any case, the Doynes continued to occupy the property until the mid-1960s, after which Wells House passed through a couple of other hands before being bought by the present owner in 2022: today it is open to the public, with self-catering cottages in the yard, and a variety of tours and events held in the main building. 



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Playing with the Architectural Lexicon



‘Crossing the left bank of the Boyne at Bellinter bridge we enter the noble demesne of Ardsallagh, now belonging to the Duke of Bedford, who has recently erected here a handsome Elizabethan mansion, in which report whispers he will annually spend some time. In no part of its course does the river present the same extreme calmness and repose as here. Widening into deep, still pools, shaded by aged timber, and fringed with wild plants of gigantic growth, huge colts-foot; with the modest blue forget-me-not and the little yellow potentilla peeping through their dark umbrageous foliage; long, topling bulrushes, fragrant meadow-sweet, and broad waterlilies, stretch in wild luxuriance along the placid banks. Long avenues of lime trees, and groves of tall grey- stemmed beeches with arcades of aged yew, give an air of antiquity as well as grandeur to this handsome park. One almost always expects to meet some remnant of ecclesiastical buildings where aged yew trees abound, and accordingly we read that St. Finian founded the monastery of Escair-branain near this, but at present even the site of that ancient edifice is unknown.’ (from The Beauties of the Boyne and its Tributary the Blackwater by William R. Wilde, 1849). 






Located above the banks of the river Boyne as it flows south from the town of Navan, County Meath, Ardsallagh was, as Wilde mentioned, believed to be the site of a religious house established here in the sixth century by Saint Finian of Clonard. In the late 12th century, the land here was granted by the Norman knight Hugh de Lacy to one of his supporters, Jocelyn de Angulo, whose descendants, their name anglicised to Nangle, became known as Barons of Navan. The Nangles erected a castle at Ardsallagh and would remain there until the 1650s when, like so many other families who had supported the Catholic Confederate cause, they were deprived of their property, 8,000 acres of which were later purchased by the Dublin alderman John Preston: in the following century, his great-granddaughter Mary Preston inherited the Ardsallagh estate. Her husband, Peter Ludlow served as an MP for Meath, while the couple’s son, also called Peter, would have a highly successful political career, eventually becoming Comptroller of the Household in the 1780s. Before then, he had been elevated to the peerage, created Baron Ludlow of Ardsallagh while aged just 25, and eventually becoming first Earl Ludlow. In due course he was succeeded by his two sons, the younger of whom, the third and last earl, had a highly successful military career, rising to the rank of Lieutenant General, as well as acting as Equerry to the Prince of Wales from 1784-95. On his death without direct heirs in 1842, Ardsallagh was bequeathed to Francis Russell, seventh Duke of Bedford who, Wilde noted, commissioned a new residence on the site. This property subsequently passed to the duke’s brother, Lord John Russell, British Prime Minister 1846-52, and later first Earl Russell. However, he and his descendants do not appear to have spent much, if any, time in residence at Ardsallagh. In January 1890, The Times carried the following advertisement: ‘To be let or sold for a term of years, the house and demesne lands of Ardsallagh, the Irish residence of Lord Russell, situated on his property in the County of Meath, in the best hunting district in Ireland.  The house is a large gentleman’s residence, with good stables and out offices, and the demesne contains 333 acres 1 rood 43 perches statute measurement.’ Certainly, in the closing decades of the 19th century, the estate was let to the French family, and eventually in the 1930s it was bought by a local builder, Cormac Murphy and his wife Catherine: earlier this year, their grandchildren placed the house and surrounding 199 acres on the market. 






As alredy mentioned, the original building at Ardsallagh was a castle erected by the Nangles, but no trace of this survives today: a census from 1821 merely notes ‘the remains house of Ardsala’ while The Parliamentary Gazetteer 0f Ireland, 1844-1845 observed that the demesne here ‘seems to be as ill kept as it is delightfully situated.’ The two later Earls Ludlow had enjoyed careers based in England and therefore one assumes neglected their Irish estate. However, the place had once been very fine: passing through the area in August 1732, Mrs Delany declared ‘The house seems a very antique edifice, it has fine gardens, but the trees and meadows that lie by the river are extremely beautiful.’ Similarly, writing c.1740, Isaac Butler called Ardsallagh, ‘the beautifull Seat of Mr Ludlow the House is lofty & well designed with a fine Firr Grove which almost encompass the House here are delightfull Gardens, & curious subterraneous Grottos.’ By the following century, it appears all this had fallen into ruin, which explains why, after inheriting the place, the Duke of Bedford should have opted to start afresh with the construction of a new residence. As seen today, Ardsallagh is in the Tudor Revival style, its limestone exterior replete with pointed gables and towering diagonal chimneys, oriels and mullioned windows. Designed by an unknown architect, but described by Casey and Rowan as being ‘in the manner of Edward Blore’, the house cost £40,000 to build and fit out. The building, which suffered a fire in 1903, subsequently received attention from Sir Thomas Drew, which makes it difficult to know how much of the present interior is original and how much early 20th century refurbishment. The most striking feature is the double-height staircase hall which, unlike the exterior, evokes the Baroque period, with the first-floor gallery supported by a series fluted columns below an elaborate entablature. The main rooms, their plasterwork ceilings simultaneously incorporating elements of the Jacobean and English Perpendicular periods, further add to the delightfully eclectic blend of styles found within the house. Although, as is evident in these pictures, the place now needs some attention, Ardsallagh is a wonderful survivor from a time when bold borrowing from the architectural lexicon was still widespread. At the time of writing, the property is listed as Sale Agreed: one must hope that whoever takes it on appreciates Ardsallagh’s special qualities and ensures they are preserved into the future. 



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Offering an Alternative Vision


Last May, the Irish Aesthete looked at the sad fate of St Loman’s, Mullingar, a vast range of buildings dating from the 1850s and originally opened as a lunatic asylum (see Squandering National Resources « The Irish Aesthete). St Loman’s continued to offer long-term residential care for psychiatric patients until it was closed in December 2013. Since then, the state body responsible for the property, the Health Service Executive, has done nothing with it, allowing the place, which might be restored and used for a number of other purposes, not least housing, to fall into steadily worse condition. For the HSE, these circumstances are not unusual: the organisation owns some 200 buildings at least 110 of which have been categorised as ‘surplus to requirement.’ Deemed unfit for their original purpose, these properties have often been neither repurposed nor passed on to new owners. Instead the HSE appears to prefer that they sit vacant and deteriorating. At the end of last month, the Irish Independent reported that the health body had been presented by local authorities with a total bill of almost €800,000 in derelict site levies, some 50 per cent of which remained unpaid, with the largest bill linked to a former nurses’ building at University Hospital Galway where the organisation was being charged €245,000. It is worth pointing out that these buildings are the property of the Irish people, and supposedly in the care of the HSE. Too often that care is not forthcoming and instead one state body is expected to fine another, the money coming out of the same public purse, as funded by the taxpayer. Fortunately, there are exceptions to this sad and repetitive tale, as can be seen in Enniscorthy, County Wexford.






St Senan’s dates from a decade after St Loman’s but was intended to serve the same purpose: to act as Enniscorthy District Lunatic Asylum. Located on a site some 250 yards above the river Slaney and a prominent local landmark for more than a century and a half, the building was designed by architects James Bell and James Barry Farrell, and cost in the region of £40,000 to construct. Primarily faced in red brick produced on the site, with yellow brick used for the dressings, the hospital sits on a plinth of locally quarried granite. Opened in 1868, the building is an astonishing 650 feet (225 metres) long and follows an unusual asymmetrical plan centred on a thirteen-bay, three-storey central block with projecting five-bay wings on either side, much of the rest of the facade being broken up with a sequence of five-storey Italianate towers, most of them intended to store water. While the central block was used for administration, a chapel, dining hall and so forth, the long wings on either side provided accommodation for male and female inmates, of which there were originally supposed to be 232 of each sex, although this number would later rise: some 250 staff were employed on the site in different roles. St Senan’s remained in use until early in the present century. In 2010, it was one of three hospitals ordered by the Mental Health Commission to cease admissions, with the property described as ‘dilapidated, depressing and not fit for human habitation.’ By 2014, it was being used by the HSE for same-day respite care and administrative offices, but had been placed by An Taisce on the latter’s top 10 nationally significant buildings at risk. St Senan’s closed in 2015. 





In January 2017, less than two years after closing to patients, St Senan’s on a site of some 46 acres was offered for sale by the HSE with a guiding price of  just €780,000. The property was bought by a local development company, Bree Investments Ltd, which, working with GKMP Architects, is now in the midst of an imaginative and ambitious job of converting the former hospital into 60 large apartments. What this project shows is that it is possible for an old building to be given new purpose, one quite different from that originally envisaged but no less needed, especially today. If a commercial entity can undertake such a job on the basis that eventually profit will be realised, one must ask why the HSE, which is constantly short of funds (and consistently overreaching its annual budget) could not do likewise. Instead of sitting on assets which decline in value through want of maintenance, it should either engage in restoration and regeneration, or dispose of the property to a third-party which will do so. St Senan’s offers an alternative vision of what can happen to such historic properties.

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A Fitting Memorial


In 1887, Constance Duguid, daughter of a wealthy wine merchant based in Dover, came to Ireland to visit her sister Madeleine who lived in Myshall, County Carlow as wife of the local rector. During her visit, Constance met Rupert George Inglis Brady, heir to his family estate and then living in Myshall Lodge. The couple became engaged, but while out riding she was thrown from her horse and died. Constance was buried in the churchyard at Myshall, where her father John Duguid erected a life-size white marble statue from Dublin sculptor Thomas Farrell: it depicts a young woman in gauzy garments holding a dove. When Duguid’s wife Adelaide died in 1903, she asked to be buried beside her daughter, but by this time Farrell’s work had begun to show signs of weathering. Therefore, a decision was taken not just to move it indoors, but also to build a new church in which the sculpture would be placed.




Work on the construction of the Adelaide Memorial Church of Christ the Redeemer began in 1907, its architect being George Coppinger Ashlin, who as a young man had worked with Edward Welby Pugin, eventually marrying the latter’s sister Mary: before their partnership broke up in 1870, Pugin and Ashlin designed a number of churches in Ireland, not least the cathedral in Cobh, County Cork. Ashlin was 70 when he took on the commission in Myshall, and took his inspiration from Salisbury Cathedral, with which the new building has similarities, although contrary to popular belief, the church is not a miniature copy of the English cathedral. Thought to have cost Duguid some £50,000, it was consecrated a few months after his own death in May 1913. The Adelaide Memorial church is in the early English style, cruciform in design with an ornate tower and spire rising above the entrance porch in the south-west corner. Below a steeply pitched roof of Westmoreland slate, the extensively buttressed walls are faced in limestone resting on a five-foot base of locally quarried granite.





Inside the church, a nave without aisles leads to the chancel at the east end, with transepts on either side, that to the north serving as a mortuary chapel to the Duguids, that to the south fronted by a pulpit incorporated into an oak screen with the vestry beyond. Throughout the building, the walls and vaulted ceiling are entirely faced in pale Bath stone, with a variety of marbles, including stones from Galway and Kilkenny, used for columns and other architectural elements. The bosses at the intersection of each bay on the ceiling are either foliated or else are carved with images of the evangelists, the Duguid coat of arms, or the intertwined initials of Adelaide and John Duguid. Below the chancel’s east window is a panel in mosaic, mother of pearl and gold leaf depicting the Last Supper. Many of the church’s decorative details came from English manufacturers. The black and cream mosaic floor, for example, was provided by Oppenheimer and Co of Manchester, while James Powell & Sons was responsible for the stained glass. The clock in the tower came from Joyce of Whitchurch in Shropshire, and the bells were made by Taylors of Loughborough. The mortuary chapel in the north transept is particularly fine, its archway carved with thistles and roses (emblems of the respective countries of origin for John and Adelaide Duguid). Thought to have been inspired by a screen in St Giles’s Cathedral, Edinburgh, that in the mortuary chapel is made of wrought iron and copper, and features doves carrying olive branches, roses, fleur-de-lis and the Duguid couple’s entwined initials. Inside, the space is dominated by Farrell’s white marble statue, set on a six-foot-high pedestal of Peterhead marble which carries the following inscription: ‘Remembering the admiration with which she used to view similar monuments in Italy, this statue of Innocence fit representing her, is placed here to the memory of “Conny” Constance Louise Eugenie Duguid by her sorrowing parents, 1888.’ The remains of both her parents are interred in the same space. Still wonderfully maintained, despite the high costs involved, the Adelaide Memorial church is one of the unexpected delights of this part of the country.


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Beautifully Situated on a Fine Declivity


Mount Juliet, County Kilkenny dates from the 1760s when commissioned by Somerset Butler, 8th Viscount Ikerrin and 1st Earl of Carrick from an unknown architect. Located on an estate he had bought towards the end of the previous decade. The house sits on high ground above the river Nore and across from Ballylinch, a property which had anciently belonged to the monks of Jerpoint Abbey and which had passed through a number of hands before being inherited by Eleanor Redman, who married James Butler, third viscount Ikerrin: they were the paternal grandparents of Somerset Butler. The original name of the land on which Mount Juliet stands was Oldtown but this was changed to Waton’s Grove, after the Waton family who lived there until they forfeited their property in the aftermath of the Cromwellian settlement. It then passed through a succession of owners, including James II, until finally being purchased by Somerset Butler, probably in the late 1750s: a bridge over the river in front of the house carries the inscription, ‘This bridge was built at the private expense of Somerset Hamilton Earl of Carrick in the year 1762.’ Having acquired the place, he chose to call it Mount Juliet, after his wife, Lady Juliana Boyle, a daughter of the first Earl of Shannon. 





When Arthur Young visited Mount Juliet  in 1776, he described it as ‘beautifully situated on a fine declivity on the banks of the Nore, commanding some extensive plantations that spread over the hills, which rise in a various manner on the other side the river: a knole of lawn rises among them, with artificial ruins upon it…’ Another visitor in 1818 describes walking around ‘the flower gardens and to the green house which is on an uncommon plan and then round the back lawn, which is very pretty, well wooded with pretty oak between the boles of which is a beautiful view of distant woods and hills and here and there a reach of the river.’ However, the writer thought the house ‘very large, old fashioned and not pretty,’ although he did allow that it seemed ‘comfortable and convenient.’ 





Designed by an unknown architect, Mount Juliet is of three storeys over-basement. The house originally faced north-east looking down towards the river with a seven bay facade between two shallow curved bows with arched windows on two storeys. The central breakfront has Venetian windows on the two upper storeys above a tripartite pedimented and fan-lit doorway (since enclosed within a porch). There is a perron and double steps in front of the door, with iron railings  At the start of the last century, the entrance was moved to the other side of the building, with a single-bay three-storey projecting entrance bay added. Much of the interior decoration was commissioned by the second earl, Henry Thomas Butler, who inherited the estate in 1774, also the year in which he was married. The main reception rooms have splendid plasterwork, again by unknown hands, although in the style of Michael Stapleton,not least the dining room, the walls of which are lined with medallions enclosing classical figures in relief and surrounded by delicate garlands of grape leaves. But each room has its own distinctive character, as well as a variety of fine marble chimneypieces, many of which were installed when the house underwent alterations in first decades of the last century. The second earl was also responsible for the entrance hall dominated by an Imperial staircase supported by a screen of fluted Ionic columns. When the house’s orientation was altered at the start of the last century, a room was added immediately beyond the stairs’ return. 





While the first two Earls of Carrick appear to have lived within their means, the same cannot be said of the third. Soon after he died in 1838, leaving two infant sons, an auction was held at Mount Juliet where lots on offer included ‘the entire household furniture, plate, and plated ware, valuable paintings, books, piano forte, china, glass, &c.; as well as horses, carriages, farming implements and all livestock. Then in 1852, a large part of the family’s land, ‘‘upwards of 7,000 acres statute measure’ was sold by the court for the Sale of Incumbered Estates in Ireland, the auction realising a total of £40,200. By this date, all that remained was the townland of Mount Juliet and its house, which had been inherited by the fifth earl, Somerset Arthur Butler, who entered the Grenadier Guards as an ensign in 1856 and took part in the Crimean War, retiring from service as a captain in 1862. Unmarried, seemingly in later years he became a recluse and following his death in 1901 is said to have left much of his personal fortune to the Plymouth Brethren of which he was a member. Title and what remained of the estate then passed to a cousin, Major Charles Henry Butler, who never lived in the property but passed it on to his eldest son, the future seventh earl who in turn leased Mount Juliet to the wealthy General Sir Hugh McCalmont. 





Just before the outbreak of the First World War, General Sir Hugh McCalmont bought Mount Juliet from the seventh Earl of Carrick. The McCalmonts were responsible for carrying out a number of alterations to the house, not least changing its orientation and creating a ballroom in one of the wings. The family remained at Mount Juliet until 1988 when they in turn sold the property. Since then it has operated as a luxury hotel with a Michelin starred restaurant. Over the past year, the hotel’s new owners have undertaken an extensive restoration and redecoration of the house.


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Of Napoleon’s Toothbrush and Other Matters


One of the oldest institutions in this country, the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland dates back to 1654, although its first royal charter was granted by Charles II in 1667. The man behind this initiative was John Stearne who, like many other characters during this period, was able to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances and thereby survive and even flourish. Born in County Meath in 1624, Stearne had attended Trinity College Dublin and became a scholar there, but left without taking a degree around the onset of the Confederate Wars in 1641, when he moved to England. There he spent time first in Cambridge and then Oxford, returning to Ireland a decade after he had left it and becoming a fellow of Trinity College Dublin. The university had been given a dilapidated building on nearby Dame Street by the city’s corporation but lacked funds to restore it: In 1654 Stearne persuaded college authorities to hand the property over to him, on the understanding that he would convert it ‘unto the sole and proper use of physicians’ where he would act as life president. It says much about his persuasive charm that Stearne’s proposal should have been accepted, that he then managed to secure donations for the building’s refurbishment before riding, seemingly without problems, over the transition from Commonwealth to Restoration, and then ensure that the organisation he had established should receive royal approbation. Two years after this was achieved, Stearne died just days before his 45 birthday (one wonders whether he was familiar with the maxim ‘physician heal thyself’). Happily, the college survived. Initially it was known as the Fraternity of Physicians of Trinity Hall, but after receiving a second royal charter from William III and Mary II in 1692 , it was renamed the King and Queen’s College of Physicians in Ireland, retaining this title until 1890 when the present title was formally adopted. Once the direct link with Trinity College was broken following the grant of a second charter, the physicians became homeless and this remained the case for more than the next century, meeting in the homes of successive Presidents. However, a hospital opened on Dublin’s Grand Canal Street funded by a substantial legacy the College of Physicians had received from Sir Patrick Dun following his death almost 100 years earlier in 1713. This hospital, named after Dun, included a meeting room and accommodation for the college’s library, but  in the new hospital. Nevertheless, the physicians still wanted their own substantial premises, and this finally became possible in 1860 when the Kildare Street Club, which had occupied a couple of houses on Kildare Street since the 1780s, offered to sell these buildings to the College.






Just four months after taking possession of its new home, the college suffered a setback when the Kildare Street buildings were almost entirely destroyed by fire. Fortunately, the property was insured and this meant that the physicians, instead of having to spend money adapting what had once been two private residences into a public institution could instead start afresh with a building designed for their specific purposes. Six architects were invited to submit proposals, the winner of the commission being William G Murray, whose practice was responsible for many banks, insurance companies, railway stations and so forth. While the facade of the college underwent some modifications when the original sandstone was replaced by Portland stone in 1964, inside remains much as it looked when first completed in 1864, Professor Christine Casey noting that today the building’s sequence of rooms ‘is among the best-preserved Victorian interiors in the city.’ A flight of steps in the vestibule leads to the top-lit, double-height stair hall with grand imperial staircase: this space introduces visitors to a long processional axis running like a spine through the centre of the building. At the top of the staircase and occupying the entire street frontage is the library, originally conceived as two spaces, a library and a museum, but now one room lit by five windows. Meanwhile, down off the central landing, a long colonnaded corridor leads to the first of two great meeting rooms, the Graves Hall. This was part of Murray’s original design, a double-height space lwith ribbed coved ceiling, the walls of which are lined with Corinthian pilasters between which hang a collection of portraits on the west wall and twin light windows on the east. At the north and south ends and flanking the chimneypieces are white marble statues on plinths: these represent four former presidents of the college, including Sir Dominic Corrigan who was responsible for negotiating the purchase of the site and the fund-raising required after the fire. Corrigan can also be given the credit for a further extension to the building, this time designed by McCurdy Mitchell in 1873.  This area at the rear of the old houses had previously been filled by the Kildare Street Club with a racquet court and other rooms. Another long barrell-vaulted and colonnade corridor now led to the second great hall, today named after Corrigan, its walls lined with a further collection of portraits. 






The RCPI is home to many extraordinary objects. The library, for example, contains over 20,000 books, pamphlets and journals, primarily but not exclusively focussed on medicine, including Sir Patrick Dun’s own library, bequeathed to the college in 1713. Likewise many of the portraits, busts and statues represent doctors and physicians, but not all of them. There are medical instruments dating back to the 18th century and later. Then there is the extraordinary Quin Tassie collection, consisting of 26 drawers of more than 1,700 miniature gem casts and moulds imitating antique models and believed to have been created in the 18th century by the internationally renowned Scottish gem engraver James Tassie working with his mentor and patron, Irish physician Henry Quin; it was donated by his family to the college in 1926. Finally, and perhaps most extraordinary of all the items held by the college, is Napoleon Bonaparte’s toothbrush. As is well known, when the former emperor was exiled to the island of St Helena, he was attended by an Irish doctor, Barry O’Meara. He had served as a surgeon with the British Army in Egypt and Sicily, before being court-martialled for acting as a second in a duel in Sicily. O’Meara then entered the Royal Navy as an assistant surgeon, ending up in St Helena where, according to Napoleon in Exile: or, A Voice from St. Helena, a best-selling memoir he published in 1822 a year after the emperor’s death, O’Meara was bequeathed various mementoes, including the aforementioned toothbrush with a silver gilt handle stamped with the letter ‘N’. Today, it can be viewed, along with much else, in the Royal College of Physicians. 


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A Reawakening


Regular visitors to this site will know that the Irish Aesthete is always delighted to learn of an historic property undergoing restoration, especially when this work is being tackled by private owners who intend to make the property a family home. Such is the case with the building seen here today: Knockelly Castle, County Tipperary. They have written a brief but helpful account of the site, which is reproduced below.  




‘Knockelly is reputed to have been built by Edmund Fitz James Butler, 8th Baron Dunboyne for his second son Piers, with work commencing in c.1465. The castle remained within various lines of the Butler family until 1592, when Peter Oge Butler rebelled against the crown, and Knockelly was granted to Patrick Grant, a nominee of the 10th Earl of Ormond. By 1602, Knockelly was the property of Sir John Everard (d.1624), who was most likely responsible for the c1610 renovations. Everard was admitted to the Inner Temple in London in 1578, called to the bar in 1590, but returned to Ireland and had been made Justice of the Liberty of Tipperary by 1601.
Knockelly was retained within Everard lines until Sir Redmond Everard, 4th Baronet, supported the failed Jacobite rising of 1715 and had to flee to France where he lived out his days. During Sir Redmond’s exile, funds were short and Knockelly was occupied by a series of notable tenants, including the Jolly’s, the Lowes and the O’Callaghans, until the castle and entire Everard patrimony, was acquired by Thomas Barton, a powerful wine merchant, in c.1751.
The Barton estate included Grove, an important house and lands to the south, and Knockelly may have served as an agent’s house for the estate. It is believed the 1830 renovations to the Gatehouse may have happened then. Knockelly was eventually let to James Kickham, one of whose daughters, Catherine, married a Patrick Heffernan. The Bartons, whose estate had been reduced from 5,000 to 500 acres, sold Knockelly between 1904-1906 to the Heffernans, who lived there until the present owners purchased the property in 2020.’




Across more than 550 years, Knockelly has served a variety of roles ranging from a magnate’s stronghold to a land agent’s residence and, prior to its present owners taking possession, a very substantial farmyard. But over that long period of time, it has been in the custodianship of just five families and perhaps this helps to explain why so much of the original structures have survived, not least the great tower house which last underwent remodelling in 1610. This stands within an expansive bawn which was built in 1560, the still-intact walls incorporating gun turrets, bartizans and, on the south side, a gatetower. The last of these began as a simple two storey building through which access was gained to the interior of the enclosure. Over time this was enlarged and embellished, most recently in 1830, and turned into a house but evidence of its earliest function can still be found inside along with other tantalising hints of the house’s gradual evolution. Indeed, as the owners note, ‘the diverse range of buildings, built in different centuries, from different fabric and designed for different functions’, means that Knockelly offers a rare insight into social and architectural changes through the centuries in Ireland since the late Middle Ages.




When the present owners bought Knockelly Castle six years ago, the majority of buildings on the site were in a semi-ruinous condition, as is the case in so many other locations throughout Ireland. And, without intervention since the property’s purchase, it is most likely that further and perhaps irreversible deterioration would have taken place. Thankfully that has not been the case and instead since 2022 a programme of gradual restoration has been underway, not least with the gatetower house which is now a family home. Work is slow, dependent on funds being available, and using materials and techniques which are most sensitive and appropriate to the structures. Employing primarily stone, wood and lime, and engaging with craftspeople trained in traditional skills, Knockelly is reawakening and being brought back to full use. As the owners emphasise, ‘there are no quick fixes. We work for the long-term.’ Benefitting from their own knowledge and that of the workers with whom they engage, they now run a number of onsite traditional building skills workshops so that anyone else interested in undertaking a similar project can benefit from their experience. Knockelly Castle was the deserved recipient of the 2026 Historic Houses of Ireland Heritage Award 2026, sponsored by Castleacre Insurance. 


For more information about the workshops run at Knockelly Castle, please see: Knockelly Conservation Workshops — Knockelly Castle

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A Ducal Birthplace


There has sometimes been confusion over the likely birthplace in Dublin of the Hon Arthur Wellesley, future Duke of Wellington, since the location was given as Antrim House. The property known by this name stood at the junction of north Merrion Square and Lower Mount Street, a vast residence erected for the Earl of Antrim, often considered the most impressive such property in the area after Leinster House: although vacated after just a couple of decades by the Antrims and later turned into an hotel, it survived until 1938 when demolished to make way for an expansion of the National Maternity Hospital. More importantly, the house was only built in 1775, six years after Wellesley’s birth. The confusion arises because the aforementioned earl had previously been responsible for the construction of a previous house not far away on Merrion Street, and this building had been leased by the Earl of Mornington, Arthur Wellesley’s father, in 1765, meaning it might still be thought of in some quarters as Antrim House.





Garret Wellesley – created first Earl of Mornington in 1760 – was born in 1735 in his family seat in County Meath, the now-ruinous Dangan, which has featured here before (see Once One of the Grandest Places in Meath « The Irish Aesthete). From an early age, he demonstrated both interest and aptitude in music, with a particular facility for the violin and for composition: when he was aged 13, his godmother, Mary Delany, wrote that he was ‘a most extraordinary boy. . . [with] more knowledge than I ever met with in one so young.’ Seemingly when he asked composers Francesco Geminiani and Thomas Roseingrave for lessons, they both said he already knew everything they could teach him. So passionate was he about music that on the day of his wedding in February 1759 he also conducted a charity performance of Handel’s oratorio Acis and Galatea for Mercer’s Hospital. After receiving an MA in 1757, along with two other amateur composers, Kane O’Hara and Francis Hutcheson, Wellesley founded an Academy of Music in Dublin. Combining concerts with charitable fundraising, this was the first musical institution in Britain and Ireland to admit women members, its patrons including the Countesses of Tyrone, Charleville and Mornington. Lady Freke, Miss Cavendish and Miss Nichols were listed as harpsichord players, and there were five aristocratic female vocal performers. In 1764 Trinity College Dublin conferred Lord Mornington with a Doctor of Music before being appointed Professor of Music there later that year. He held this post for the next decade and when he resigned, the professorship lapsed and was only revived in the following century. Lord Mornington’s compositions are almost all vocal, including a five-act opera, Caractacus, which was performed at The Theatre Royal, Smock Alley in Dublin in 1764. Seemingly only one completely instrumental work by him survives, a march he wrote for the installation of the Duke of Bedford as Chancellor of Dublin University in 1768. This then was the man who was responsible for Mornington House.




Now part of the Merrion Hotel, Mornington House was not the earl’s first Dublin residence: he had previously occupied a property on Grafton Street. But with the move east following the completion of Leinster House in … he decided to find a new home for himself and his family. Initially, he intended to acquire a plot 100 feet wide on Merrion Square itself, the proposed house being flanked by a carriage arch on either side. However, Lord FitzWilliam, who owned the land here, turned down this scheme, hence Mornington opted to move around the corner and take the lease on Lord Antrim’s recently completed Merrion Street house. As seen today, the building is of five bays and three storeys over basement, faced in brick like its neighbours and with a pedimented stone doorcase flanked by Doric columns; it is thought to have been designed by architect Christopher Myers (he had previously been the architect of Lord Mornington’s Grafton Street house). Again, as is so often the case with Dublin townhouses, the plain exterior conceals a rich interior decorative scheme, although the entrance hall is largely unornamented. On the other hand, two reception rooms to the right of this have elaborate plasterwork ceilings are heavily ornamented with scallop shells, floral festoons and acanthus scrolls, as well as flower baskets and birds. While much in the style of Robert West, Professor Christine Casey attributes all this to the Dublin stuccodore James Byrne, who was similarly responsible around the same period for the decoration of 12 Merrion Square, where his client was William Brownlow, MP for Lurgan, Co. Armagh, who was a friend of Mornington and, like him, a keen amateur musician (he was reputed to have played the harpsichord at the first performance of Handel’s Messiah in Fishamble Street, Dublin in 1742). In May 1766 Brownlow paid a gratuity of £7-13s-6d to Byrne as a ‘present for doing his work well’. Back on Merrion Street, the most interesting space is the stair hall, lit by a large round headed window on the return. In contrast to the somewhat mean joinery of the stairs and dado rail, the plasterwork is most engaging, the wall panels containing garlands and festoons of fruit and flowers, while above them is an exceptionally deep coved cornice with a double row of ovals composed of scrolling acanthus leaves with flowers at their intersections. This was the house in which the future Duke of Wellington spent at least part of his childhood.


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In Three Parts


‘The cathedral movement has taken root in Ireland. Our readers must be familiar with the new cathedral at Kilmore, and the restorations in progress at S. Patrick’s, Dublin, ( though, we regret to say, without good professional advice) at the cost of Mr. Guinness; and at Limerick under Mr. Slater’s care. A scheme for a new cathedral at Belfast, for the diocese of Connor, has been brought before the public, by the Bishop of Down, Connor, and Dromore, as a memorial to Jeremy Taylor, and now in the far west in the county of Galway the restoration or rather rebuilding of the once metropolitical and still cathedral church of Tuam has been undertaken in a manner which deserves special and laudatory mention.’  
From The Ecclesiologist, Volume XXII, 1861




St Mary’s Cathedral in Tuam, County Galway, is a building in three parts, one of which comprises just an arch, albeit of exceptional scale and beauty. The earliest place of worship here is supposed to have been established in the 6th century by local saint Jarlath. However, several hundred years passed before a cathedral was constructed, at some date in the first half of the 12th century and under the patronage of Turlough Mór O’Conor, High King of Ireland in the decades before his death in 1156. Unfortunately this building was almost entirely destroyed by an accidental fire in 1184, leaving just the elaborately carved chancel arch still standing. In his Ecclesiastical Architecture of Ireland (Dublin, 1845), the antiquarian George Petrie provided the following detailed description of this structure: ‘Of the ancient church of Tuam the chancel only remains; but, fortunately, this is sufficient to make us acquainted with its general style of architecture, and to shew that it was not only a larger, but a more splendid structure than Cormac’s church at Cashel, and not unworthy of the powerful monarch to whom it chiefly owed its erection. This chancel is a square of twenty-six feet in external measurement, and the walls are four feet in thickness. Its east end is perforated by three circular-headed windows, each five feet in height and eighteen inches in width externally, but splaying on the inside to the width of live feet. These windows are ornamented with the zig-zag and other mouldings, both externally and internally, and they are connected with each other by label, or stringcourse mouldings, of which the external one is enriched with paterae. In the south wall there is a window similarly ornamented, but of smaller size.
But the great feature of this chancel is its triumphal arch, — now erroneously supposed to have been a doorway, — which is, perhaps, the most magnificent specimen of its kind remaining in Ireland. It is composed externally of six semicircular, concentric, and recessed arches, of which the outer is twenty feet six inches in width at its base, and nineteen feet five inches in height ; and the inner, fifteen feet eight inches in width, and sixteen in height. The shafts of the columns, — which, with the exception of the outermost at each side, are semicircular, — are unornamented; but their capitals, which are rectangular, on a semi-circular torus, are very richly sculptured, chiefly with a variety of interlaced traceries, similar to those on the base of the stone cross ; and in two instances, — those of the jambs, — with grotesque human heads.
The imposts are, at one side, very richly sculptured with a scroll and other ornaments ; and, at the other side, present a kind of inverted ogive ; and these imposts are carried along the face of the wall as tablets. The bases are unornamented, and consist of a torus and double plinth. The arch mouldings consist of the nebule, diamond frette, and varieties of the chevron, the execution of which is remarkable for its beauty. I have only to add, that all the ornamental parts of this chancel are executed in red sandstone.’ 




Following the catastrophic fire in 1184, nothing appears to have been done to the site of St Mary’s Cathedral until the start of the 14th century, when the Dean of the time was granted ‘relaxation of a hundred days of enjoined penance to those who contribute to the rebuilding of Tuam Cathedral, begun by the late Archbishop William [de Birmingham, 1289–1312] and continued by the Dean Philip, who petitions for aid to complete it.’ Like so many other religious buildings, in the 16th and 17th centuries, St Mary’s suffered from alternate assault and neglect: the earliest surviving written description of the building from c.1672 by John Lynch describes it as falling down. However, in 1688 Archbishop John Vesey rebuilt the tower, an event commemorated by a plaque which carries both his name and that of James II. Other minor alterations and improvements were made to the second cathedral over the next 150 years, the entrance of which remained the former chancel arch and sanctuary. The style of the building is English Gothic, with a five-light east window incorporating two quatrefoil windows under a sexfoil centrepiece. Despite its merits, in The Ecclesiologist the anonymous author judged the cathedral harshly, declaring ‘with most perverse ingenuity a conventicle-like oblong structure was stuck on to the east of this, the chancel arch being converted into a portal, the chancel into a porch, and an inner door cut through the eastern triplet. This hideous building was the titular cathedral but really Anglican parish church of Tuam.’ When further work took place in the 19th century, the second cathedral became a Diocesan Synod Hall, Library and Registry.




Reverting to The Ecclesiologist, in 1861 it reported that the Anglican population of Tuam had more than doubled from 310 to 640, ‘and the Vicar and Provost of Tuam, the Rev. C. Seymour , who has already introduced choral service and the observance of the holy-days, was alike anxious to promote more church room, and to provide Tuam with a worthy cathedral. He has accordingly placed the matter in the hands of Sir Thomas Deane who has, we are glad to say without sacrificing the old chancel, produced the plans of a church of real cathedral character and considerable dimensions at a computed cost of £9,000, while funds enough are promised to render the commencement of the building a matter of proximate accomplishment.’ Two years later, The Builder was able to inform its readers that the Deane’s design for the extension to the west end of the older building ‘partakes of the character of St Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin and St Canice’s in Kilkenny. The walls and the tower will present the Irish characteristic of crennelated [sic] battlements. The clerestory windows of the nave will be of the circular cusped type. At each end of the nave will extend aisles supported externally by buttresses, and lighted by pointed windows in the early style. The western entrance, at the extremity of the nave, will be a broad pointed archway. Immediately over it will extend a double arcade of pointed windows, and above these the principal window of the nave, consisting of a group of seven pointed windows. The choir, which will be without aisles, will be lighted by ordinary pointed windows. Each transept will be lighted with circular windows, and large five-light windows at the extremities. The tower will be a plain quadrangle flanked by four small towers, and all surrounded by crenellated battlements, and above it will rise a stone spire. The material to be used in the external structure is limestone. The interior of the church will be lined with a remarkably fine description of red sandstone, from Nefin in the County of Mayo, supposed to be the same stone that was used in the construction of the ancient arch. On each side of the nave, within, will extend a row of four columns, each consisting of a central column of limestone, encircled by four smaller columns composed of green Galway marble. The roof, within, will be open timbered.’ The only prominent feature not mentioned in this description is the High Cross now located in the south transept, for the obvious reason that it was not in this place at the time. Dating from around the same period as the original cathedral was constructed, the cross is believed to have stood close to this building but following the fire was dismantled, with different pieces acquired by different owners. Only in the 19th century was it reassembled and brought to Dublin for the Great Exhibition of 1852. Following this event, the cross returned to Tuam but then was the subject of an argument between the Roman Catholic church and the Church of Ireland, each claiming ownership. Eventually agreement was reached whereby it was placed at a point in the town between the two faiths’ respective cathedrals. By the 1980s the cross was suffering damage from pollution and, following restoration, was moved to its present location in St Mary’s. 


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Having No Equal in the Three Kingdoms


Visiting Kilkenny Castle in 1699, English bookseller John Dunton enthused over the building’s gallery, writing that ‘for length, variety of gilded chairs, and the curious pictures that adorn it, has no equal in the three kingdoms, and perhaps not in Europe; so that this castle may properly be called the Elisium of Ireland.’ Were Dunton somehow to return to Kilkenny today, he would likely find the place unrecognisable, but would still judge the castle gallery as having no equal, certainly not in this country. 





The origins of Kilkenny Castle date back to the late-12th century when a defensive structure was erected on a site high above an important fording point on the river Nore. Likely of wood, it was replaced by a stone building around 1260, a square-shaped castle with a tower at each corner, three of which remain. Passing through various hands, it was seized by the English crown and sold to the Butlers in 1391: hitherto the family’s main base had been at Gowran, some ten miles to the east. Thereafter, Kilkenny became the centre of Butler operations, although the castle went through several periods of neglect. In the second half of the 16th century, for example, Thomas Butler, 10th Earl of Ormond, preferred to concentrate his energies on enhancing another Butler property in Carrick-on-Suir (see All that is Fantastically Eccentric in Architecture « The Irish Aesthete). However, his great-nephew James Butler, first Duke of Ormond and the latter’s wife Elizabeth Preston, lavished attention on Kilkenny Castle, creating the building so admired by Dunton at the end of the 17th century. 




An ardent royalist, James Butler went into exile in France with Charles II. Following the latter’s restoration in 1660, Butler was created Duke of Ormond, recovered his Irish estates and became the country’s Lord Lieutenant. While he and his wife spent much time in Dublin, they also turned their attention to the ancestral castle in Kilkenny where, inspired by what they had seen during their time in mainland Europe, they transformed the building and its grounds in the style of a French château. The garden was laid out in the fashionable Baroque manner, with serried lines of trees, statuary and fountains, and a classical banqueting house. Inside, an inventory made for the couple’s heir, the second duke, reveals that the castle held sets of tapestries, Turkey rugs and looking glasses, Dutch and Indian furniture and a huge collection of more than 500 paintings, the largest in the country with work by Dutch, French, Italian and English artists. Some of these items survive to the present day: six 17th century Dutch tapestries, part of a larger series telling the story of Decius Mus, a Roman Consul, can be seen in one of the rooms, while elsewhere several painted wooden panels carved with ribands and pomegranates are on display. While many visitors to the castle were awed by this display, not everyone felt the same way. In November 1709 Dr Thomas Molyneux arrived in the town and went to look at the building. While acknowledging that it was handsomely situated above the Nore, Molyneux declared that inside ‘there is not one handsome or noble apartment. The Rooms are Darke and the stairs mighty ugly.’ He was also critical of recent alterations to the main structure, thinking the handsome classical entrance from the Parade, along with a new range of buildings all ‘mighty ugly, crooked, and very expensive.’ 





Kilkenny Castle, as seen today, is primarily a 19th century construct. For much of the previous century, it had, once more, been little used and allowed to fall into a poor condition: by 1747, it was described as being like that of ‘a weather-beaten ship in a storm after a long voyage with all her cargo thrown overboard.’ Around 1770, the south wall of the old castle, which had already been badly damaged during the Confederate Wars of the early 1650s, was demolished, thereby breaking the previously enclosed courtyard and opening views to the parkland. Internally, other radical changes took place. The present Picture Gallery, 150 feet long and the finest surviving example of its kind in Ireland, was commissioned in 1826 by James Butler, first Marquess of Ormonde from local architect William Robertson, with further changes made in the 1860s by the firm of Deane and Woodward. Elsewhere, a suite of reception rooms on the first floor continues to reflect their mid-19th century decoration, with walls covered in French silk poplin originally made by Prelle of Lyons, on which are hanging paintings many of which are part of the original Butler family collection. The decoration here is based on photographs showing how the rooms looked in the 1890s. The Butler Marquesses of Ormonde remained in ownership, if not in occupation, of Kilkenny Castle until 1967 when the seventh and last holder of the title sold it for a nominal sum; many of the contents had already been dispersed at auction some 30 years earlier. Today the castle and grounds are owned by the Irish State and managed by the Office of Public Works which has gradually been restoring more of the interior which can be viewed by visitors. 


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