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- Herausgeber: Mercier Press
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013
From highwaymen to healing waters and from brewerys to bridges, not to mention lots of castles, cathedrals, abbeys, towers, passage tombs and priories, this collection of fascinating stories, which started as a regular series in the 'Kilkenny People', details the lore and landmarks of County Kilkenny from top to bottom. Read the fascinating stories of the thatched villages of South Kilkenny, of Ballyspellan Spa, of the trio of treasures at Kilree, of Dunmore Cave and, in the city itself, of Rothe House and the Bishop's Palace. You can also learn all about Cushendale Woollen Mills, Fiddown Nature Reserve and the burial place of King Heremon. Locals and visitors alike will find plenty of interest in this quirky collection.
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MERCIER PRESS
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Blackrock, Cork, Ireland.
www.mercierpress.ie
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© John Keane, 2013
ISBN: 978 1 78117 157 8
Epub ISBN: 978 1 78117 250 6
Mobi ISBN: 978 1 78117 251 3
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Ballyspellan Spa
Clomantagh Castle
The thatched villages of South Kilkenny
Woodstock
Jerpoint Abbey
Kilfane
Danesfort Turret
Grannagh Castle
Knockroe Passage Tomb
Kilcreene Lodge
Tory Hill
Rothe House
Grennan Castle
Jenkinstown Castle
Freestone Hill
Dunmore Cave
St John’s Priory
Mount Loftus
Cushendale Woollen Mills
Leac an Scail
Rossenara House
A trio of treasures at Kilree
St Francis Abbey Brewery
Castletown Cox
Duiske Abbey
Rathbeagh – burial place of King Heremon
Bishop’s Palace
Medieval Towers
Swift’s Heath
Tybroughney
Ballybur Castle
St Mary’s Church and Graveyard
Brandon Hill
Tudor Kilkenny
Clapper Bridge
Fiddown Nature Reserve
Magdalene Castle
Kilkenny Castle
St Canice’s Cathedral
To my dearest Dor, Lucy and Johnny
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Brian Keyes, editor of the Kilkenny People for his encouragement; to Rothe House, the Kilkenny Archaeological Society and the Old Kilkenny Review. The library in Rothe House is a wonderful resource and thank you to the staff: Mary Flood, Róisín McQuillan, Edward Law, Catriona Dowling, Daphne Coad, Victoria Barnes and Winifred Long.
Thanks to Susan Garret of Clomantagh Castle for her great assistance on that section and the one on Ballyspellan Spa, and for all her support. Thanks to Moira Cashin and her husband Joe for opening my eyes to a wonderful way of life in the thatched villages of South Kilkenny. And to Mooncoin (born Mick) Purcell in Idaho, USA – thanks for planting the seed and for the slogan: ‘Guinness’s for porter and the Purcell’s for pigs’. To my mother for all her love and all my friends who didn’t scold me about St Francis of Assisi (private joke too painful to share). Much of the history of Grannagh Castle is thanks to a wonderful article by Mrs T. G. Lanigan in the Old Kilkenny Review of 1960. Thanks go to Máire Ní Fhaircheallaigh of the Office of Public Works; to Damien Brett at the local studies section of Kilkenny City Library; and to Ben Murtagh, archaeologist, renowned for his work in places like Kilkenny Castle and Grennan Castle.
I am indebted to Cóilín Ó Drisceoil and his late wife Emma Devine for their great work in investigating the Rathbeagh site, and Cóilín for his work on many of the pieces in this book. His help was invaluable. Thanks go to Margery Brady for her help and kindness in preparing the piece on Jenkinstown House and to Geoffrey Marescaux for giving such a wistful history of his family, the Swifts, in the Old Kilkenny Review of 1974. And thanks to the local man who knew all about the secrets of Swift’s Heath. I’ll leave a drink for him in the Fireside Inn, Castlecomer Road, Kilkenny.
I am indebted to Robert Duggan for his vast knowledge of Tybroughney; the local people owe him a huge debt of gratitude for piecing together so much about the castle and its hinterland. Mary O’Shea, another local historian, has done so much to enlighten us about our past in heritage-rich South Kilkenny. Patrick Comerford, writing in the Old Kilkenny Review of 1994, provided a wonderful insight into the life of the Comerfords after they left Ballybur Castle, and Canon Carrigan’s history of the diocese was invaluable. Thanks to Billy Hoare for giving us so many of the songs associated with Brandon Hill. The book by Michael Holden, Freney the Robber – The Noblest Highwayman in Ireland, is a major addition to our knowledge of the master highwayman and it is referred to a number of times in this book.
There are few people as kind or as generous with their time and knowledge as Owen Doyle of Tinnahinch and his friend Colm Walsh. Thanks to Jackie Jordan of Kilkenny Castle for allowing me to sit and ponder the waterfall; to Maelle Champenois for a riveting and insightful tour; to John Walsh of Callan for filling in the blanks; to Noreen McDonald for reading the manuscript; and to Mr Kilkenny Castle, Frank Kavanagh, for his encyclopaedic knowledge of all things to do with the Butlers and the castle. Thanks also to the late Sean Power of Knockroe; Claire Goodwin of Kilkenny County Council for her time on Woodstock; Dr Breda Lynch for the tour of Jerpoint Abbey; John Kirwan for his advice; Gerry Moran for his encouragement; Eileen Little for her help and the painting of Jenkinstown Castle; Susan Mosse for letting me sneak into Kilfane, my Shangri-La; Gerry and Christine Byrne for allowing me to visit Kilcreene Lodge; Seán Maher for his help with Tory Hill; the beautiful Eoin Hennessy for his patience; Charlie Maher; Dylan Vaughan; Michael Keogh for being himself and showing me Dunmore Cave; the Great Scot, the miraculous Frank Gray of Ballybur Castle – hope the recovery continues; Jimi Conroy for illuminating all things to do with nature for me; Philip Cushen of Cushendale Woollen Mills for sharing the secrets of his art; the Byrnes of Mount Loftus; Liam Scott, Ian Doyle and Colm Murray of the Heritage Council located in the Bishop’s Palace; the Cummins family, Rossenarra, Kilmoganny, for tea, duck eggs and a mild scolding; to Brigitte Lennon (née Dorpmund) from outside Hanover, Germany, for maintaining Swift’s Heath, Jenkinstown, with such perfection, enthusiasm and love; Cllr Tomás Breathnach for his passion for Grannagh Castle; Rhonda Evans, Ian Hamilton and Ronan Morrissey of Diageo and the St Francis Abbey Brewery; Denis Byrne, town sergeant of Kilkenny Borough Council, for allowing me in where I should not have been; Elizabeth Keyes of St Canice’s Cathedral and staff, where ‘there are no ghosts’; Shirley Lanigan for giving me hope; Gertie Keane for her passion and insight into Tudor Kilkenny; Damian Hogan of the Kilkenny People for his patience; the glamorous Norah Flynn and Marie Brennan at the front desk of the Kilkenny People; Billy Lahart for help with lots of things; and, finally, the Dowleys, for allowing me to roam around their home, Tybroughney Castle, with Robert Duggan.
Introduction
When I first mooted the idea of writing a series on the hidden heritage gems of Kilkenny for the Kilkenny People, my editor, Brian Keyes, was delighted. We drew up separate lists and then checked if either of us had come up with a few the other hadn’t thought of on his own. It started from there and I plunged myself into the work.
Little did I think that the project would cause me such worry. By far the most beautiful private home in Ireland that I have seen is Castletown Cox, outside Piltown, County Kilkenny, and close to Carrick-on-Suir. I wrote the piece about it for the Kilkenny People and a few people said they had enjoyed it, people like Jim Brennan of the Club House Hotel, Patrick Street, Kilkenny. His wife’s family, the Blacques, owned the estate at one stage. Then a bombshell. Someone had made an anonymous complaint about the piece to the police ombudsman of Northern Ireland, the police ombudsman of England and the gardaí. It claimed that I was subversive, that I was working with dissident Republicans and putting the lives of the owners, Lord Magan and his family, at risk because I mentioned that his Irish-born father had been a member of MI5. I re-read the piece and felt that I had been honest and fair, and had praised Lord Magan for restoring the place so lovingly.
I thought I had in some way done him a disservice and was seriously considering abandoning the project. That was, until I met Eileen Little, Dublin Road, Kilkenny, on the street. Her husband’s family all worked in the Kilkenny People. She told me to carry on and not to be daft; that no self-respecting earl would take any notice of what was written about him in the Kilkenny People and that it was someone closer to home who was responsible. I received a phone call from a blocked number threatening me over the Castletown Cox piece shortly after that, but Brian Keyes and I still felt we should carry on the series – which we did, without any more complaints to the police or gardaí. I thought it was important to put the matter on record. I would also like to reiterate my regard for Lord Magan, who has made a huge investment in South Kilkenny and has copper-fastened the future of a most beautiful architectural and historical gem.
A few months later, a chance meeting with Mary Feehan, an old family friend, developed into this book, which for me has been a joy to write, although a source of pain for my family, who had to put up with me while I was at the kitchen table working on it.
I can safely say that I have never enjoyed anything like doing this book during my journalistic career, and meeting so many wonderful people along the way was the highlight. One person stands out – maybe it’s because he passed away a few months later that I remember him so vividly and with such warmth. Sean Power was born literally yards from one of the great heritage sites in this country, Knockroe and its passage tomb, which is at the centre of an archaeological archipelago. He never left it and on the day I met him he recalled all the people who had come to marvel at the tomb. He was genuine, honest, true and yet of simple tastes, as if the material world meant little to him. He smiled when he spoke about the druids who came there on 21 December for the winter solstice and spoke with warmth about them, not disdain. He explained that we all have to live together and get on. Asked if he regretted never leaving Knockroe, he answered, ‘What regrets could I have?’, as he spread his arms wide indicating the wonderful landscape with the River Linuane below him forming the border between Kilkenny and Tipperary. I will never forget his wonderfully chiselled face, his clear, untainted eye and his honest stare.
I hope you have as much fun reading this book as I had writing it.
Ballyspellan Spa
The area where Ballyspellan Spa was built was clearly in use long before the spa itself was constructed. In September 1806 a ‘peasant’ turning over ground in a field on Ballyspellan Hill, on the farm of Charles Byrne Esq. which was on the estate of Lord Ashbrook, saw something metal. On closer examination he found a silver brooch. He took it to Mr Byrne, who brought it to the Kilkenny Archaeological Society, who sent it to Dublin to what is now the National Museum. The bossed, penannular brooch is made of hammered silver and is Viking in origin. It was created around ad 900. Each half of the flat sunken area of the terminal has openwork plates with animal designs, separated by incised grooved bands connecting with five domed bosses. The bosses, which hold the openwork plates in position, are highlighted by ribbed wire rings and riveted to the brooch. The junction of the ring and terminal on both sides is decorated with an incised biting animal head. On the back of the brooch four Irish names are scratched in Ogham characters. Such is the quality and beauty of the Ballyspellan Brooch that Prince Albert presented a replica of it to Queen Victoria at Christmas 1849, having acquired it during the royal visit to Dublin in August 1849.
However, Ballyspellan is most famous for its spa. From the early part of the eighteenth century, it was receiving wealthy visitors on a regular basis, especially during the summer months. Ballyspellan was the place to go if you had a medical complaint and the money to travel. It was spoken of in the same breath as the spas at Kirby, Westmoreland, England, and at Pyrmont, Germany. People came from all over Ireland and Britain, many of them retired army and navy personnel. Whatever you had, Ballyspellan Spa was the answer.
When I look at the old adverts, they remind me of the latest elixirs being offered by pharmaceutical companies today, promising you immunity from everything bad known to man, full of vital vitamins and other stuff. As much as things change, they stay the same. Dr Rutty, a well-known writer on mineral waters in the late 1700s, claimed that drinking the water from the spa cured pox, itch, boils, troubled minds and a variety of diseases, including ‘debilitated habits of the stomach in the intestines and the lungs’. He observed the water’s impact on dropsies, eruptions and blotches in the skin in a case of leprosy, and claimed that it worked wonders on obstructions of the liver and jaundice.
The claims made by ‘experts’ about the miracle powers of the water are hard to believe. Yet this quote from Faulkner’s Dublin Journal, 25 May 1742, shows how popular the spa was: ‘To all who have mind to drink at the famous Ballyspellan Spa in the County Kilkenny. There is good fox and hare hunting, horse racing, dancing and hurling for the pleasure of the quality at the Spa.’ It provided income for a large number of families in the area, kept one local hotel in business and provided a good bit of business for two others in nearby Johnstown village.
Imagine every young person within five to ten miles descending on the spa every Sunday afternoon during the summer months, when there would be Gaelic football and hurling played, dancing and general fun. It was so famous in its day that an outrageous poem celebrating it was composed by Thomas Sheridan in 1728, although Dean Swift penned a cutting answer to this; both of them had visited the spa that year. The two poems are included at the end of this chapter.
After the Great Famine the spa went into serious decline. In 1860, in The Evil Eye, William Carleton described the type of people who used to visit the spa, and the condition it was in at the time of writing, mentioning the poems as he does so:
The society at Ballyspellan was, as the society in such places usually is, very much mixed and heterogeneous. Many gentry were there – gentlemen attempting to repair constitutions broken down by dissipation and profligacy; and ladies afflicted with a disease peculiar, in those days, to both sexes, called the spleen – a malady which, under that name, has long since disappeared, and is now known by the title of nervous affection. There was a large public room, in imitation of the more celebrated English watering-places, where the more respectable portion of the company met and became acquainted, and where, also, balls and dinners were occasionally held. Not a wreck of this edifice is now standing, although, down to the days of Swift and Delany, it possessed considerable celebrity, as is evident from the ingenious verses written by his friend to the Dean upon this subject.
The site of the spa is located about sixteen miles from Kilkenny city. There is very little of note on the way there from the spa’s golden era, except for the house on the corner of the by-road up to it, the lovely ivy-clad two-storey residence that was once called Rochford’s Hotel and was built in the early 1800s in response to increasing numbers going to Ballyspellan. It is now better known as the place where Irish tenor, medical doctor, bonesetter and double amputee Dr Ronan Tynan was born.
Ballyspellan Spa is, alas, no more, but the water that made it famous still flows into the well house. This aqua pura rises in the limestone-rich Clomantagh Hills and makes its way to Ballyspellan through fissured rock until it comes to the brow of the hill and drops down through brittle slate. When you arrive at the site, you climb the gate and walk the 150 yards to a little arched doorway. Inside is the actual spring that fed the spa and you are immediately struck by the way everything has been reddened by the iron-rich liquid. As off-putting as it looks, one taste and you are immediately hit by a heartening sensation. I don’t know if my taste buds picked it out or if it was just my imagination, but it did taste really refreshing, slightly acidic and a little carbonated. Is it the fact that you are drinking cool water from an uncontaminated source, up in the hills, where there is no one to bother you except the native wildlife and the cattle lowing a few fields away? Or is it the memory of what went on here in the distant past and the fact that in the Kilkenny Moderator of May 1874 it was said that the spa water cured a man with ‘a fatal illness’? That claim was made in the form of a letter, which was part of an attempt to rejuvenate the spa. A series of meetings were held in Johnstown and the entire spa area was cleaned and whitewashed; spa water was sold by the glass at that time for 4d per glass. Sadly the required infrastructure wasn’t there and the money wasn’t available to modernise the place, so it continued to decline.
Today, all that is left of the once thriving Spa is a bleak and barren remnant.
Here is the poem by Thomas Sheridan (note the different spelling of the name):
On Ballyspellin
All you that wou’d refine your Blood
As pure as fam’d Llewellyn
By Waters clear, come ev’ry Year
To drink at Ballyspellin.
Tho’ Pox or Itch, your Skins enrich
With Rubies past and telling,
T’will clear your skin before you’ve been
A month at Ballyspellin.
If Lady’s cheek be green as leek
When she comes from her Dwelling
The kindling Rose within it glows
When she’s at Ballyspellin.
The sooty Brown, who comes to town
Grows here as fair as Helen
Then back she goes to kill the Beaux
By Dint of Ballyspellin …
We Men Submit as they think fit,
And here is no rebelling:
The reason’s plain, the Ladies reign
They’re Queens at Ballyspellin.
By matchless Charms, unconquer’d Arms
They have the Pow’r of quelling
Such desperate Foes as dare oppose
Their Power at Ballyspellin.
Cold Water turns to Fire, and burns
I know, because I fell in
A Stream which came from one bright Dame
Who drank at Ballyspellin …
No Politics, no subtle Tricks
No Man his country selling,
We eat, we drink, we never think
Of these at Ballyspellin.
The troubled Mind, the puft with Wind
Do all come here Pell-Mell in:
And, they are sure, to work their Cure
By drinking Ballyspellin.
If dropsy fills you to the Gills
From Chin to Toe tho’ swelling
Pour in, pour out, you cannot doubt
A Cure at Ballyspellin.
Death Throws no Darts through all these Parts,
No Sextons here are knelling;
Come, judge and try, you’ll never die,
But live at Ballyspellin.
Except you feel Darts tipt with Steel
Which here are ev’re Belle in;
When from their Eyes sweet Ruin Flies,
We die at Ballyspellin.
Good Cheer, sweet Air, much Joy, no Care
Your Sight, your Taste, your Smelling
Your Ears, your Touch, transporteth much
Each Day at Ballyspellin.
Within this Ground we all sleep sound,
No noisy Dogs a-yelling:
Except you wake, for Celia’s Sake
All Night at Ballyspellin.
Here all you see, both he and she,
No Lady keeps her Cell in;
But all partake the Mirth we make
Who drink at Ballyspellin.
My Rhimes are gone, I think I’ve none
Unless I should bring Hell in;
But since I am here to Heav’n so near
I can’t at Ballyspellin!
And here is Swift’s response:
Dare you dispute, you Sawcy Brute,
And think there’s no refelling
Your scurvey Lays, and senseless praise,
You give to Ballyspellin?
Howe’er you flounce, I here pronounce
Your Med’cine is repelling;
Your water’s mud, and sowrs the Blood
When drunk at Ballyspellin.
Those pocky Drabs, to cure their scabs
You thither are compelling,
Will back be sent, worse than they went
From nasty Ballyspellin.
Lewellin! Why? As well may I
Name honest Doctor Pelling;
So Hard sometimes you tug for Rimes
To bring in Ballyspellin.
No subject fit to try your wit
When you went Colonelling:
But dull intrigues twixt Jades and Teagues
That met at Ballyspellin.
Our lasses fair, say what you dare,
Who sowins make with Shelling,
At Market-hill, more beaus can kill
Than yours at Ballyspellin.
Would I was whipt, when Sheelah stript
To wash herself our Well in,
A Bum so white ne’re came in sight
At Paltry Ballyspellin.
Your Mawkins there smocks hempen wear;
For Holland, not an ell in,
No, not a rag, whate’er you brag
Is found at Ballyspellin.
But, Tom will prate at any rate
All other Nymphs expelling;
Because he gets a few Grisettes
At lowsey Ballyspellin.
There’s bonny Jane, in yonder lane
Just o’er against the Bell Inn;
Where can you meet a lass so sweet
Round all your Ballyspellin?
We have a girl deserves an Earl
She came from Enniskellin,
So fair, so young, no such among
The belles of Ballyspellin.
How would you stare to see her there
The foggy mists dispelling,
That cloud the Brows of ev’ry blowse
Who lives at Ballyspellin.
Now as I live, I would not give
A stiver or a skellin,
To towse and kiss the fairest Miss
That leaks at Ballyspellin.
Whoe’er will raise such lyes as these
Deserves a good cudgelling;
Who faisly boasts of belles and Toasts
At dirty Ballyspellin.
My rhymes are gone, to all but one
Which is, our trees are felling,
As proper quite as those you write
To force in Ballyspellin.
1 The spa is located about sixteen miles from Kilkenny city and to get to it you pass through Freshford village and on for Johnstown, resisting the temptation to turn left at Minister’s Cross.
Clomantagh Castle
Sitting on top of Clomantagh Castle, Margaret Butler, a tough matriarchal figure, would, it is said, gaze down from her ‘holiday home’ at her vast territory and at her subjects. Having sat on the exact same spot as this Great Countess of Ormonde (d. 1552), I can see how she would have been impressed by what she owned and saw: the Slieveardagh Hills, across to Woodsgift, to the castle at Minister’s Cross, to Mount Garrett-Clomantagh, to Spa Hill, with Freshford to her back.
The castle served as a retreat from Kilkenny Castle on the Nore and Grannagh Castle on the Suir where she resided with her husband, Piers Roe, Earl of Ormonde (d. 1539). From its lofty perch you can see that the landscape is dotted with hill forts, cairns, fairy forts and various minor medieval installations. Here too was a community, as can be seen by the presence of a well adjacent to the tower house of the castle, a ruined church, numerous buildings and an enclosing wall.
Clomantagh passed, with many other castles and lands, to the Earl and Countess of Ormonde’s second son, Richard Butler, the 1st Viscount Mountgarret. The 3rd Lord Mountgarret was president of the Confederation of Kilkenny, and forfeited the castle and a third of the townland under the Cromwellian regime to Lieutenant Arthur St George, ancestor of the Kilrush/Callan St George family. The castle was also owned by the Shortalls of Ballylarkin, and latterly by Mr Willie White, a vet in the nearby village of Freshford.
The word ‘unique’ is often misused, but in the case of Clomantagh Castle it is appropriate. It is a magical place, strikingly set within a series of buildings dating from the twelfth century, including a medieval dovecote and church closer to the public road.2 Nowhere else in Ireland can be found this fusion of an original fifteenth-century castle with an early nineteenth-century farmhouse. The castle is in perfect symmetry with the farmhouse, which stands where the old banqueting hall used to be, and it is probable that the stone from the vanished banqueting hall, which was an integral part of the castle, went into the building of the Victorian house. High up on the castle wall facing the road is a female fertility carving of a Sheela na Gig, which was probably removed from the ruined church below. The buildings have been preserved for the people of Kilkenny by the little-known, but highly effective, Irish Landmark Trust, which bought the castle from Mr White. It has to be said that the area seems to have been neglected by officialdom, and it is great that there is a benevolent entity like this to maintain our heritage.
