Tag Archives: Hotel

Death of a Salesman



Until relatively recently, across Ireland every country town would have had an hotel. It was the place where local weddings and similar social gatherings might be held, as well serving as a venue for business meetings, gatherings of societies like the Rotary or Lions Clubs, and occasional clandestine encounters. But what helped to sustain these hotels on a day-to-day basis, what kept the bar humming in the evening, filled bedrooms at night and ensured breakfast would be served in the morning were members of a now-vanished breed: the commercial traveller. 





Commercial travellers, otherwise known as travelling salesmen, were once a common sight throughout the country. Almost incessantly on the road, they moved from one urban centre to another, seeking to persuade individuals or retail outlets to buy the products or services of the company they represented. Their numbers were sufficiently great for the Irish Commercial Travellers’ Federation to be founded in Cork in 1919; in the middle of the last century, this body was sufficiently important to have its own publication, The Traveller.
While there were a handful of products being offered for sale by women – the Avon Lady who sold cosmetics and the like – commercial travellers were overwhelmingly male, and the profession gained a reputation for being somewhat libidinous: all those men on their own with an hotel bedroom at their disposal. Timothy Lea’s saucy Confessions of a Travelling Salesman was published in 1973, and the same year saw the release of the rather lame film, Secrets of a Door-to-Door Salesman. However, the end was soon nigh for commercial travellers: tellingly, in 1981, the Irish Commercial Travellers’ Federation was absorbed into the Sales, Marketing & Administrative Union of Ireland. Various factors have been given for the decline and eventual disappearance of a once-widespread occupation. Improvements in communication and transportation made the traditional role of a travelling salesman who physically visited customers over long periods less necessary for mainstream businesses. More recently, computers, and the internet have created direct online ordering systems, thereby allowing retailers to view and order stock directly from manufacturers, and making the role of the commercial traveller redundant. In addition, the rise of large retail chains has led to a corresponding reduction in the number of independent outlets that once relied on travellers. All of which hastened the demise of the travelling salesman. 





A recent visit to two towns less than six miles apart, one on either side of the border, both of which have hotels which were once thriving but which are now empty and in poor condition. In Clones, County Monaghan, the former Lennard Arms which stands in a prominent position at the junction of MacCurtain and Analore Streets and with a bold double canted bay fronted façade facing The Diamond, dates back to 1860. According to the National Built Heritage Service, the building ‘has been an institution in Clones since it commenced trading and endures as an important landmark in the town.’ That was written in 2011, and since then the hotel has ceased trading and fallen into its present sad state. Meanwhile, over in Newtownbutler the handsome Lanesborough Arms Hotel on Main Street first opened for business in 1820 and serves as testament to the prosperity of the town at the time. Of five bays and three storeys with a free-standing Tuscan porch, it closed for business in 2004 (the interior of the adjacent pub was removed and reinstalled in the Ulster American Folk Park, County Tyrone). A fire believed to have been started deliberately caused major damage to the building in 2016 and its condition has only grown worse since then.
The Lennard and Lanesborough Arms Hotels were both the kind of premises which have once provided hospitality to commercial travellers, and one wonders whether the disappearance of this formerly reliable class of guest was a factor in their closure. Each town suffers from the blight of dereliction (see top pictures for Clones and bottom ones for Newtownbutler), providing further evidence that once-thriving urban centres in all parts of Ireland have experienced serious decline across recent decades. With the loss of their clientele, do these once-thriving hotels have a future? In Clones, plans have been announced by the local authority to renovate the Lennard Arms as a heritage centre. Alas, no such opportunities in Newtownbutler for the Lanesborough Arms which, together with many of its neighbours along Main Street, continues to stand empty and neglected.



The Irish Aesthete is generously supported by

Comfortable in Every Respect


‘We strongly recommend “Mr Hunter’s Inn, Newarth Bridge” as a most pleasant resting place, from which excursions may be made to Wicklow town, Rosana, Dunran and, above all, “the Devil’s Glen” – where a day may be well spent. Mr Hunter is an adept in the mystery of angling, and likes to accompany his guests to the neighbouring streams, or to Lough Dan…’
From Ireland: Its Scenery, Character, &c. By Mr & Mrs S.C. Hall, Vol.II (1842)
Although recent decades of relative affluence have brought many advantages to Ireland, this has had the effect of obliterating much tangible evidence of the country’s history: the tide of modernity has swept away all in its path. There are now, for example, few commercial establishments that date back much past the late 20th century and even many of these have been given so thorough a make-over that they might only have just opened for business. Which is what makes the survival of Hunter’s Hotel in County Wicklow so precious.





‘At Neweath Bridge we find good post-horses and carriages, at Hunter’s excellent hotel, its proprietor boasting, and justly so, of the entire approbation bestowed upon his admirably-managed establishment by patrons of the highest rank. It is most pleasantly situated on the left bank of the charming and trout-stored Vartry, on the sea-side road leading from Bray to Wicklow…’
From The Tourist’s Illustrated Hand-Book for Ireland (1852)
In the second half of the 17th century, the lands on which Hunter’s Hotel stands were granted by the English crown to Sir Abraham Yarner, elected first President of the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland. The original building is believed to have been a forge, erected next to a ford across the river Vartry, but by the 18th century this had evolved into a post house, known as the Newry Bridge Inn, providing respite for travellers on the road from Dublin to Wexford. The proprietorship of this establishment passed through various hands until 200 years ago when, in 1825, a young couple called John and Catherine Hunter, obtained a lease on the inn, stable yard and seven acres of garden from its then-freeholder, Henry Tighe of nearby Ballinapark. John Hunter had been butler to the Tottenhams of Ballycurry while his wife had hitherto worked for the same family as housekeeper. The extensive and appropriate experience they brought to their new role as innkeepers served them well, since, as can be read, they were soon receiving favourable reviews from visitors to the area.





‘Leaving Glendalough not much later than six 0’clock in the afternoon, the tourist may be at the Killoughter, or Newrath-bridge station of the Wicklow railway in time for the last up-train for which, should he be late, he will consider himself by no means unfortunate in being thereby thrown into one of the most comfortable hotels in the county, “Hunter’s Newrath-bridge Hotel”, on leaving which he will no doubt confirm the testimony we have just received from a tourist friend lately sojourning there-”My experience sojourning there was comfortable in every respect, landlord most obliging, servants a pattern of civility and attention”.’
From Dublin: What’s to be Seen and How to See It, with Excursions by W.F. Wakeman (1853)
Two hundred years after John and Catherine Hunter assumed responsibility for the Newrath Bridge Inn, their descendants remain in charge of the premises, a rare example of uninterrupted ownership in this country. Likewise, relatively little has changed either inside the hotel or outside in the gardens, both of which attest to the value of continuity. With its low ceilings, thick walls and antique furnishings, Hunter’s Hotel still retains the charm of an old coaching inn, one in which generations of guests have enjoyed generous hospitality from the proprietors. That’s a difficult thing both to acquire and to maintain, and one that more modern establishments can’t hope to realise. Continuity of character is hard to find in contemporary Ireland. Winning accolades since 1825, long may Hunter’s Hotel remain unchanged.


The Irish Aesthete is generously supported by

Dereliction is Vandalism


Since last year, two Cork-based sustainable designers, Jude Sherry and Frank O’Connor have been driving a campaign – primarily via Twitter (look for #derelictireland) but also through other channels – to tackle the shameful and ongoing problem of dereliction in Ireland. This is a long-standing issue which has been allowed to fester for far too long. Last October,
research by UK price comparison website money.co.uk reported that 9.1 % of the State’s housing stock, equating to more than 183,000 units, were classified as vacant – with 4,000 of these being owned by local authorities. Furthermore, the following month it was revealed that during 2020 the same local authorities had collected €378,000 through the Derelict Sites Levy, a small fraction of the almost €12.5 million in cumulative unpaid charges which could have been claimed. A large number of vacant properties can be classified as derelict, which is hardly surprising when owners see so little effort is made to ensure they maintain buildings in their possession. As anyone who has travelled around Ireland can testify, everywhere, in urban and rural settings alike, there are houses falling gradually, and seemingly irrevocably, into decay. These are a blight on a nation and ought to be a matter of shame, but instead too often the only response is indifference. Hence the importance of Sherry and O’Connor’s work. 





Close to the shores of Lough Corrib, Oughterard, County Galway lies on the main route to Connemara: almost all traffic heading west passes through the town. Before doing so, all traffic must also pass the shabby remains of the former Connemara Gateway Hotel. This former 62-bedroom property on around six acres closed its doors some years ago, and is currently for sale for €2.4 million. In September 2019, some refurbishment was undertaken as the owner sought to have it leased by the state as a Direct Provision Centre. There had been no consultation with the local population which, when this notion became public, rallied to oppose the scheme; it was duly abandoned. So, the building now sits empty and falling ever further into decay, serving as a welcome when visitors arrive in the west of Ireland. Then, as they leave Oughterard, those visitors have an opportunity to inspect a further example of the national penchant for dereliction: the former Sweeney’s Oughterard House Hotel. The front of this building dates from the early 18th century when it was constructed as a private residence: it was subsequently, and clumsily, extended to the rear. Like the Connemara Gateway Hotel, the property has stood empty for some years and is in an increasingly poor state of repair.





One small Irish town, two large properties capable of providing accommodation to upwards of 100 people left to stand empty and neglected. In Ireland, property ownership is sacrosanct. Owners believe they are entitled to do what they like with the buildings in their possession, and that includes doing nothing. Hence the increasing number of buildings lying vacant and decaying. In February, Irish Times columnist David McWilliams wrote – not for the first time – that dereliction is vandalism and must be stopped (see https://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/david-mcwilliams-dereliction-is-vandalism-and-must-be-stopped-1.4798979). What’s more, the state allows this vandalism to persist. Legislation exists providing both national and local governments with the necessary powers to intervene and halt dereliction, but both persistently fail to exercise them. Until they do so, the likes of these two Oughterard buildings will continue to be found right around the country. 

In Decline



The Lanesborough Arms Hotel opened in Newtownbutler, County Fermanagh 200 years ago, in 1820 and is testament to the prosperity of the area at the time. No longer, however. Of five bays and three storeys with a free-standing Tuscan porch, it closed for business some time ago: a fire believed to have been started deliberately caused major damage in 2016. Today the building is in poor shape, and reflects the decline seen in many small towns across the island of Ireland even before the start of the present pandemic.