

Gortnaclea Castle, County Laois is a 16th century tower house originally built by the Mac Giolla Phádraig family on a site overlooking the Gully river. It is famous for having been the place where in April 1600 Thomas Butler, 10th Earl of Ormond, a long-time ally of the English crown but by then aged almost 70, was held hostage by Owny MacRory O’More. At the end of the month, O’More sent his demands to the government, which included the removal of all English garrisons from that part of the country. This stipulation – and sundry others – were not met but the earl, by then in poor health, was eventually released after the payment of £3,000 (and lived for another 16 years). Of five storeys, Gortnaclea is a typical tower house of the period but unfortunately its easterly entrance front has long since collapsed, bringing down the spiral staircase which would have been immediately inside the main door; the graceful curving wall of the staircase can be seen on the north-east corner.
Tag Archives: Ruins
Into the Woods

In the mid-17th century, one Peter Carey from Devon came to Ireland and settled in County Cork where he acquired Ballymacpatrick, lying a few miles east of Fermoy and formerly part of the Condon estate on the river Blackwater. Generations of his descendants remained living in this place, the name of which was duly changed to Careysville: an early 19th century house built by the Careys survives here, although it is now owned by the Cavendish family. In the second half of the 18th century, Richard Carey, a younger son, became a Church of Ireland clergyman, as so often was the case with offspring not expected to inherit property. Although a prebendary of Donoughmore and Kiltegan in the diocese of Lismore, the Rev Carey lived in Clonmel, County Tipperary where he was associated with the local Free School. Both he and his son, Langer Carey, also a clergyman, lived a short distance south of Clonmel, just across the border into County Waterford, in a spot called Glenabbey.




Located on a spot overlooking the Glenary river, Glenabbey is supposed to derive its name from a mediaeval religious settlement, a grange established here by the Cistercian abbey of Inishlounaght not far from Clonmel. Following the Dissolution of the Monasteries in the mid-16th century, the lands of Inishlounaght – presumably including those at Glenabbey – passed by sale to Sir Edward Gough, his ownership confirmed in 1591 by the English crown. However, his grandson Patrick forfeited the property in 1641 and thereafter ownership of Glenabbey seems unknown until it became home to the Careys at the start of the 19th century.




Although called Glenabbey House on the original 1840 Ordnance Survey Map, the remains here are now known as Carey’s Castle. Today surrounded by woodland owned by Coillte, Ireland’s forestry body, the property has a somewhat eccentric appearance, composed of a series of interlinking structures that incorporate a variety of architectural styles and themes. Evidently the intention was to suggest an ancient lineage, as indicated by the rather bizarre incorporation of a three-storey capped round tower into the largest part of the building. In fact, even this section is not especially substantial and contains no fireplaces (it may be that another part of the building immediately behind and now lost held some comfortable rooms). Carey’s Castle, while charming to look at, must have been rather unsatisfactory as a family residence, being more like a sequence of follies. To the immediate north of this main building, for example, is another that looks as though intended to serve as a chapel, except the arched windows are filled with rubble stones (and no evidence of openings ever existing on the other side of the same wall). In any case, it does not seem to have been used as a home for very long. The Rev Langer Carey died at the early age of 41 in 1830 and some years later his surviving family sold the property. The new owner is given as Lieutenant-Colonel Nuttall Greene, who already owned Kilmanahan Castle (see Shrouded in Mystery « The Irish Aesthete). Having greatly over-extended himself, in the aftermath of the Great Famine, Greene’s heir was forced to sell the family’s properties through the Encumbered Estates Court. After which Carey’s Castle was abandoned, and so fell into its present condition.
A Picturesque Feature in the Landscape

Seemingly there are some 100 places around the world called Newcastle, six of them located in Ireland (one of these, in County Meath, is a couple of miles away from the more substantial settlement of Oldcastle). Newcastle, County Tipperary is one of the smaller holders of the name, being a small village seemingly of little note. But it contains two substantial mediaeval ruins, one being a large 12th/13th century church and the other the castle from which Newcastle takes its name.



The ‘new’ castle in County Tipperary presumably replaced an older one, but there does not appear to be any information about the latter. What remains can be seen close to the banks of the river Suir, the navigable possibilities of which was one reason for the choice of this site. The castle is believed to have been built for the Prendergast family, the first of whom Maurice de Prendergast, was among the Cambro-Norman knights who accompanied Richard de Clare (otherwise known as Strongbow) to Ireland and then settled here. Around 1230 his grandson, William de Prendergast exchanged lands he had inherited in what is now County Limerick with Jeffrey de Marisco for those in this part of Tipperary. There may already have been some kind of castle already erected but the ruins seen today were certainly enhanced and enlarged by the Prendergasts who remained in occupation until the mid-17th century. In the aftermath of the Confederate Wars, Edmond Prendergast’s estates were taken from him by the Cromwellian government and the link with Newcastle broken. Edmond Prendergast’s grandson, Sir Thomas Prendergast, who grew up in poverty, led an extraordinarily adventurous life. Having fought in the service of James II, he allied himself to William III after the Treaty of Limerick. A Roman Catholic, he was involved in a Jacobite plot to kill the king, but then switched sides and provided evidence that helped to convict many of his former fellow-plotters. He then seems to have conformed to the Established Church and was rewarded with lands around Gort, County Galway that provided an annual income of £500. Created a baronet in 1699, he acted as MP for Monaghan borough, 1703-09 while also serving in the army, rising to the rank of brigadier-general in February 1709. However, the following September he was killed at the Battle of Malplaquet.



The castle at Newcastle consists of a number of buildings enclosed within what remains of a bawn wall; among the more notable extant structures is a large vaulted hall and a circular tower, both relatively intact although much of the rest of the property is in poor condition. Quite when the castle was abandoned is unclear. One suggestion is that it was badly damaged in the late 1640s/early 1650s at a time when the Prendergasts were displaced. But the ruin of so many buildings in Ireland is attributed to Cromwellian forces that it is hard to know whether or not such was the case in this instance. Whatever the truth, the lands on which it stands were eventually granted to the Perry family, whose main residence from the early 18th century onwards was some ten miles north at Woodrooff, County Tipperary. In 1837 Samuel Lewis wrote that the old castle ‘forms a very picturesque feature in the landscape.’ Such remains the case today.
Piercing the Sky


Piercing the sky, a slender tower in the graveyard of Brooklodge, County Cork. A square base with octagonal belfrey above, this is all that remains of a church erected here in the mid-19th century, on the site of an older structure (described as being in ruins as early as 1615): the main body of the building was demolished in 1923. In one corner of the surrounding graveyard is a large rectangular mausoleum, now almost enveloped in vegetation, erected by the Browne family who lived not far away at Riverstown House.
All the Poorer
Elm Hill, County Limerick is a house dating from c.1790 when constructed for the Studdert family. Of six bays and two storeys over raised basement, when offered for sale in the aftermath of the Great Famine, the building was described as containing ‘a spacious and lofty parlour, drawing room and hall; nine capital bedrooms, large kitchen and servants’ hall, besides larder, dairy, closet and cellars of a superior description and in thorough repair.’ It seems to have remained in good condition until the beginning of the present century, after which Elm Hill was left standing empty. The National Inventory of Architectural Heritage, in a survey undertaken in September 2008 reported that while it had fallen into some disrepair, ‘this imposing house retains much of its former grandeur. A high level of technical and artistic skill is evidenced in its design, particularly in the tooled limestone doorcase, the carved timber door and the slate-hung elevations. Internally there are a number of interesting features, notably the slate fireplaces and plastered ceilings.’ Such was its significance that under the terms of the 2000 Planning Act, Elm Hill was designated as a protected structure, with the relevant safeguards such a designation is supposed to provide. However, in June 2021, following proposals from some of its elected representatives, Limerick City and Council removed the house from the list of protected structures, on the grounds that Elm Hill had become unstable and dangerous. It now appears the house is to be demolished and its stone sold off. Such a scenario was commonplace in Ireland during the 1950s and ’60s, but that it should still be occurring today is astonishing and provides evidence that the country’s architectural heritage is no more appreciated, or its future more secure, than was the case 70-plus years ago. Buildings neither rise nor fall without the engagement, or disengagement, of those responsible. If Elm Hill had become ‘unstable and dangerous’, this was because it was allowed to do so, even while designated as a supposedly protected structure. Where, in this instance, was the relevant protection? Under the terms of the 2000 Planning Act, the local authority could – and should – have intervened to ensure the house’s conservation. Instead, it permitted the building to fall into ruin, and then shamelessly removed it from the list of protected structures. As so often in Ireland, legislation exists but implementation does not. Another part of our history disappears – and we are all the poorer for it.
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.
Prominently Located



After Monday’s post about Tikincor Castle, County Waterford (see The House at the Head of the Weir « The Irish Aesthete), here are the remains of another early fortified house: Ballycowan Castle, County Offaly. Prominently sited on a rock outcrop immediately north of the Grand Canal, the building seemingly occupies the site of an earlier castle belonging to the O’Molloys but much of the present structure was erected here by Thomas Morres in 1589. Climbing four storeys to a string course above which soar a series of tall, slender chimneys, the castle displays more visible evidence of its fortified character than does Tikincor, having no windows on the lowest level and a number of bartizans along the roofline. Ballycowan changed hands c.1625 when it came into the possession of Sir Jasper Herbert and his wife Mary Finglas, who extended the building to the east and placed a plaque carrying their arms above a new doorway here. Seemingly the castle suffered damage during the Confederate Wars and their aftermath, which is when the south-west side of the building collapsed. Not least thanks to its location, Ballycowan remains one of the most familiar ruins in this part of the country.
The House at the Head of the Weir

Tikincor (from the Irish Tigh Cinn Chora, meaning The House at the Head of the Weir) is a townland adjacent to both the river Suir and County Tipperary: it lies just inside County Waterford. The house in question dates from the early 17th century and is one of the fortified residences then coming into fashion. It is believed to have been built for Alexander Power, a member of the de la Poer family which owned extensive lands in this part of the country. However, during the upheavals of the Confederate Wars of the 1640s and their aftermath, the Powers lost possession of Tikincor which passed into the hands of the Cromwellian supporter Sir Thomas Stanley whose son, John, future Chief Secretary for Ireland, was born in Tikincor in 1663. However, not long after that date it appears that Sir Thomas disposed of the property, since it then came into the hands of an elderly lawyer and politician, Sir Richard Osborne, whose descendants continued to own Tikincor for the next couple of centuries.




Burke’s Landed Gentry of 1871 proposes that the Osbornes first settled in Ireland in 1558 but from whence they came does not appear to be known. Sir Richard, who sat as Clerk of the King’s Court in Ireland for 13 years from 1616, was created a baronet in 1629 and thereafter sat as MP for County Waterford on a number of occasions until his death in 1667. In 1690 his grandson, Sir Thomas Osborne was responsible for building the narrow five-arched bridge over the Suir which is still known by his name and which provided convenient access to the family’s lands on either side of the river. The Osbornes continued to live at Tikincor until the late 18th century when they moved to Newtown Anner, on their County Tipperary property. Incidentally, the current heir to the baronetcy is Britain’s former Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne.




Tikincor Castle, as the building is usually known, is an excellent example of the fortified houses constructed throughout Ireland in the first decades of the 17th century when the country was at peace. Few of them survived the Confederate Wars and many can now be found in a ruinous condition, such as Burncourt, County Tipperary (see Burntcourt « The Irish Aesthete) and Ichtermurragh Castle, County Cork (see Whom Love Binds as One « The Irish Aesthete). Tikincor shares many characteristics with both of these, T-shaped and built of rubble, it climbs three storeys to a many-gabled attic floor marked by a string course, above which soar tall slender chimneys indicating a greater number of hearths than would have been the case in earlier tower houses. A staircase was likely accommodated in the wing that projects on the east side, while the west front now has a wide arched opening on the ground floor, probably a later alteration. Tikincor does not appear to have been occupied after having been abandoned by the Osbornes; it was described as being ‘in ruins’ on the first edition Ordnance Survey map in 1840. Such remains its condition today.

Beyond the Tower House


Graffan House, County Offaly is thought to date from the early 17th century when it may have been constructed as a glebe for the adjacent Ballintemple Church, now also an ivy-drenched ruin. Of three bays and two storeys, the building occupies a fine position on raised ground with views over the surrounding countryside. The house is T-shaped, with the staircase likely occupying the projection, indicating, as Andrew Tierney has noted, ‘the movement beyond the tower house to something more symmetrical.’
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.
















