Adare Manor

A Lost Cross-Inscribed Stone – Found Again!

An exciting discovery by Robert has led us on yet another journey – this time to the Dingle Peninsula in the Early Medieval period. But the journey started in Adare Manor and I don’t think it’s finished yet. Let me explain…

Our Christmas present to each other was a two night stay in Adare Manor – a favourite place full of history. Robert has written about a previous stay there when he was overwhelmed by the Gothic architecture and I wrote about our falconry experience. This time, we spent much time wandering the extensive and beautiful grounds. There’s a small grove of trees between the house and the golf club and this is where the Adare Manor collection of Ogham stones are located. These fine examples of Ogham, all of which came from Co Kerry originally, have been located at the Manor since the early nineteenth century. In recent years the grove has been cleaned up (older photos show it to have been quite overgrown and brambly) and the stones themselves have been straightened and cleaned. (Read more about Ogham in this post from a few years ago by Robert.)

Robert spotted a flat slab lying in the ground among the stones. He has developed a keen eye for anything resembling a carving (remember his find at Inish Beg?) and called me over to look more closely. We took several photographs, trying to get the best light to show up the carvings – a difficult task underneath the trees. It was obviously something, and vaguely reminiscent of Early Medieval (or Early Christian as it used to be called) carvings we had seen elsewhere, but odd and indistinct.

Noting that there was no record of anything except Ogham stones at this location in the National Monuments inventory, I sent photographs to Chris Corlett, an archaeologist with the National Monuments Service and an authority on the Early Medieval period. He responded that he was pretty certain it was from that period and forwarded the correspondence to Caimin O’Brien, the NM archaeologist with responsibility for Limerick. That’s where we started to get some answers. Caimin immediately recognised the carving from an 1865 book!

The book is Memorials of Adare Manor by Caroline, Countess of Dunraven (it’s available online at that amazing resource, archive.org). Caimin sent me a screen print, from which it was obvious that this was the same stone. The Dunravens, like many educated people in the nineteenth century, were interested in antiquities of all sorts. They are referenced here and there as ‘rescuing’ ancient artefacts and stones from damage, and Lady Dunraven goes to some pains to explain that none of the pieces that ended up in the museum at Adare Manor were in situ when they were acquired.

Four cross-inscribed stones are described in the book, all of which came from the Dingle Peninsula in West Kerry, or Corca Dhuibhne, from the area around Ballyferriter, west of Dingle. It’s an area that is unusually rich in Early Medieval sites – Reask, Gallarus and Kilmalkader are only three of the well known monastic ruins. Of those four stones, three are now back in West Kerry and on display. Until we found it, however, nobody had any idea what had happened to the fourth stone!

Imaged above and below are the cross-inscribed pillar that came from Reask in the early 1800s – and returned there in the 1970s

The late Tom Fanning excavated the Reask site (Riasc, in Irish) in the 70s and it is now a monument in state care, carefully reconstructed to suggest what an early monastic site would have looked like. One of the Adare stones had come from Reask and it was sent back to the reconstructed site “. . .through the kind offices of Lord and Lady Dunraven.” My photographs are below, but if you want to see it in 3D, click here.

A group of Americans were enacted some kind of ritual at the Reask monastic site when I was there. There was a lot of shouting about darkness and light and and dancing in a circle

Two others of the original four also arrived back in West Kerry and are both now at the Músaem Corca Dhuibhne in Ballyferriter, under the knowledgeable care of Isabel Bennett, the curator, pictured below with the second cross-inscribed stone). I am assuming that the stones were returned at the same time as the pillar now at Reask. Isabel has poured over all the available documentation but, like me, she can’t quite figure out when or why the transfers were made.

The more elaborate of the two came from Reask, but may have been considered too worn to be displayed outdoors. I give Lady Dunraven’s drawing below (although I am not sure who actually did the drawings – it may have been our old friend George Victor du Noyer). You can view a 3d rendering here.

The smallest of the stones (below) is triangular in shape and came originally from the townland of Killvickadownig, a few kilometres south of Reask, near Ventry. There’s a faint carving of a cross on the back, but the front bears a lovely four-armed cross with curled ends. The stone appears to have been detached or broken off from something else.

But our piece, the Adare Manor cross-inscribed stone, where did it come from and why is it, alone of the four, still at Adare? Well, it appears from Lady Dunraven’s account that the stone came from Ballydavid (Baile Daith), not too far from the other stones, and ‘close to a ringfort.’ Caimin has now uploaded the record (screenshot below) with a provisional original location near the only ringfort in Ballydavid, but noting of course that the stone is located in Adare Manor.

I can find no explanation as to why this stone was left at Adare Manor when the others were moved. It seems that the Reask pillar was located among the Ogham stones also, while the other two may have been indoors. Perhaps our Ballydavid slab was covered in moss and brambles to the extent that it was simply overlooked. Whatever the reason, I am glad to have been part of the rediscovery of this curious stone. I never cease to be amazed at the variety of forms these early cross slabs take, and this one is certainly unusual. While a cross shape forms the upper core of the carving, the central part reminds me of the monks’ habits that you see on occasional high crosses, such as the ones at Kilfenora. But what about all those squiggles at the bottom? I can make no sense of them.

Nick Hogan of the Dept of Archaeology at University College Cork had graciously taken the images I sent and turned them into a 3D rendering: the image below is a still from that process. My photogrammetry skills need refining but he still managed to create an image that is clearer than any photograph.

A close-up of the carved area. The grid at bottom left is part of a scale-arrow

There are still unanswered questions in this story, but the biggest unanswered question – Where is the fourth stone? – has at least been answered.

Still from a 3D render of the cross-inscribed stone

It’s been a fascinating bit of detective work to piece the story together and many people have contributed their expertise generously, particularly Chris Corlett, Caimin O’Brien, Nick Hogan and Isabel Bennet, while Sarah Ormston of the Adare Manor Hotel facilitated our access to the slab for recording purposes. Our thanks to all of them.

Gothic Revival – With Bells

A month ago I wrote of our first visit to Cobh, in County Cork, and told how impressed we were with the town and its architecture. I promised that Roaringwater Journal would revisit Cobh, and today I will concentrate on the splendour of the Cathedral, which dominates the skyline and looks across to the Lee Estuary. All shipping using the port, or passing up to Cork, will be aware of this spectacular building.

St Colmán’s Cathedral was conceived in the mid-Victorian era, when the Gothic revival style of architecture was in full swing. Popularity of the style was, perhaps, generated as a reaction to the society and machinery of the Industrial Revolution – all noise, smoke and progress – and harked back to a perception of medieval life when all seemed sylvan and pastoral and when everyone, from lords to artisans, knew their place: Medievalism meant a concentration on the trappings of chivalry, craftsmanship and decoration, particularly in religious buildings – although private houses for the very wealthy also explored the idiom: have a look at our post on Adare Manor.

Construction work on the Cathedral began in 1867. The designers were Edward Welby Pugin (son of Augustus Welby Pugin – probably the greatest of the British Victorian architects) and Irish-born George Coppinger Ashlin who was responsible for over 100 new churches in Ireland including those in Clonakilty and Skibbereen, here in West Cork. St Colmán’s was not completed, however, until 1915. The tower – 90 metres high – was the last element to be finished – old photographs above (emptyseas) and below left (National Archives of Ireland) show the Cathedral in use without it in the 1890s while the picture (below right – from the Michael O’Leary Private Collection) shows the tower under construction in 1914.

The Cathedral is dedicated to St Colmán of Cloyne, who founded the Diocese in the year 560. This saint is known as ‘The Poet Saint’ as he trained to be a bard for twelve years and entered the court of Aodh Caomh, High King of Munster, at Cashel. Influenced by St Brendan and St Ita, Colmán became a priest and then set up a monastery on the shores of the Lee, where Cobh now stands.  Our friend Amanda has told the story of this saint, and includes a piece from the Schools Folklore Collection, written by Padraigh Ua hAodha in the 1930s:

. . . When St Coleman was building the round tower in Cloyne a woman asked him what he was doing so high up. When he heard her speak he got such a shock he jumped from there to Kilva where the print of his feet are still to be seen on a stone. He jumped from there to Glen Iris Wood. When he landed he prayed to god to send him some water and immediately water sprang up at his feet. When he had drunk some he sprang from here to Cove  where there is a cathedral built called Saint Coleman’s. The spring that sprung up at his feet is now known as St Coleman’s Well . . .

The Cathedral contains an inscribed list of all the bishops of the Diocese, from St Colmán to the present day. This list includes Thaddeus McCarthy, bishop from 1490 to 1492 – Finola is telling his story today. The richness of the building is as evident inside as it is without. It’s an homage to fine detailing and craftsmanship and there is no corner free from it: unfortunately I could not find the names of the the artists, masons and carvers in any records. At least their skills are celebrated in their works.

Something you may not discover from a visit to St Colmán’s is the carillon which was built in to the new tower in 1916. A carillon is a giant musical instrument which, using a large mechanical keyboard and pedals, sounds a whole series of cast bells. In this cathedral there are 49 bells – making it the largest carillon in Ireland and Britain: the heaviest bell weighs 3.6 tons, and is named Colmán! Please watch this fascinating seven minute film about the carillon, and the man who plays it: his title is Carillonneur. Through the summer recitals are given and can, of course, be heard not only in the Cathedral, but over the whole town.

Visiting Cobh is itself a great experience, but allowing sufficient time to explore and appreciate the Neo-Gothic gem which is St Colmán’s Cathedral has to be the icing on the cake. Although only completed a hundred years ago, remember the long tradition of the saints who set up their foundations here in Ireland, keeping civilisation alive . . . while the Dark Ages settled on Europe . . .

Adare Manor

When studying architecture (fifty years ago!) I had little time for what was then generally termed the Victorian Gothic style. It seemed to me derivative, dark and fussy. Now, half a century on, I am suddenly a convert – and all because of a visit we made to Adare Manor: surely one of Ireland’s leading five star hotels, but also the finest embodiment of Neo Gothic attributes that I have come across in any building to date.

The settlement of Adare, in County Limerick, is a bit of a traffic bottleneck waiting to be sorted out – by a much yearned-for bypass which is likely to take a few years to complete. Once in the village, however, you will find a magical and slightly surreal place with its clusters of picturesque thatched cottages, pubs and restaurants, art galleries, antiques vendors and the greatest concentration of fashion shops and boutiques outside of any city in Ireland (probably). But when it comes to hospitality and architecture, then Adare Manor itself beats all contenders.

From the superbly landscaped gardens (top – there are 840 sweeping acres on the estate), through to elegant interiors (the drawing-room, centre, is a prime example), the mansion is on a grand scale and very much reflects, today, the spirit in which it was reincarnated in the 1830s (lower – the Great Hall) by the splendidly monikered incumbents of that time: Windham Wyndham-Quin, 2nd Earl of Dunraven and Mount-Earl and his wife Lady Caroline Wyndham, heiress of Dunraven Castle, Glamorgan, Gloucestershire.

The Manor House as remodelled by the Second Earl is a riot (Dunraven ravens, above). Known to have always actively pursued outdoor life, riding, hunting and sports, it is said that Windham was laid low by an acute attack of gout. Lady Caroline encouraged him to channel his frustrated energies into a building project: to modernise and enlarge their modest Georgian residence. The Earl rose to the challenge and embraced the exuberance of the fashionable Gothic Revival style of architecture.

Adare House in the 18th century (top) and its transformation by the 2nd Earl (lower – a 19th century engraving). Clearly funds were not a problem, as a stone plaque on the south elevation attests (one of many texts embedded in the refurbishment of the fabric):

…This goodly house was erected by Windham Henry Earl of Dunraven and Caroline his Countess without borrowing selling or leaving a debt AD MDCCCL…

Inspiration for the architectural elements came from an early 19th century romantic revival of interest in all things medieval: particular a perception of the trappings of chivalry: knights in armour, courtly love, stately homes, heraldry, jousting and country pursuits (you’ll see in Finola’s post that we indulged in some of those!). As the Victorian era progressed in the British Islands, these ideals evolved through art – the high point being the Pre-Raphaelite movement – and literature, as espoused in Malory’s Morte D’Arthur, for example, with its interpretation and embellishments by Tennyson and Beardsely:

In respect of architecture, the 2nd Earl was ahead of his time in pursuing medieval themes and must, surely, have been endowed with a good sense of humour. Lady Caroline always loyally stated that all the ideas in the remodelled house were Windham’s; however, we know that the ‘Gothic architects’ James and George Pain were involved, as were Philip Charles Hardwick and Augustus Pugin, in a project that spanned three decades.

You can see from this one small corner of the Manor the richness and quantity of detailing that was incorporated into the architecture, both inside and out. The 2nd Earl must have dreamed up or approved of all the themes which are well worth studying at length. Here are only a few of the gargoyles which attracted our eyes:

The 1897 photograph, above, shows the carriages of the Duke and Duchess of York at the entrance to Adare Manor. The Duke became George V in 1910. Everyone who comes to the Manor has to enter through a magnificent ‘Romanesque’ doorway (eat your heart out, Finola!) – whether royalty, like the party above, or mere mortals like us, who treated ourselves to a stay to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Have a look at the detailing on the architraves:

The craftsmen stonemasons of Adare were kept very busy – and fully employed – throughout the building period, which encompassed the worst years of the Great Famine. As were the woodcarvers. One room in the Manor – the Long Gallery – spans the whole width of the house: 40m long and 8m high. It’s now the ‘informal’ dining room. It has a magnificent array of carving, some – the choir seats – brought in from Flanders and dating from the 17th century (see the enigmatic example in the first photograph below), but most purpose-made locally for the new Manor. Each one tells a story. We need to go back again and spend more time there (please) just to even get a glimpse of all of them. By the way, if you want to see real medieval carving, have a look at this post of mine, from the West meets West series.

Lady Caroline was just as industrious as the Earl in contributing to the project and in creating employment through the famine. She established a School of Needlework to develop marketable skills and opportunities for local women: some of the work of the School graces the walls of the Manor. In fact, the work of local craftspeople is prominent throughout the interior of the building. Below left is the Long Gallery, showing off decorative work on the ceiling, tapestries and stained glass. On the right is a carved stone figure that looks down on guests in the Great Hall.

All of the above is just a taster for the wealth of architectural delights that awaits future visitors to this hotel. We were among the first: the Manor re-opened after a full two-year refurbishment and extension the week before we took our stay there. We can confirm that the standard of this establishment is among the highest that we have come across in all our travels in Ireland. Every detail has been thought out: rooms are spacious and warm; beds are large and comfortable; all mod cons are incorporated – right down to a switch beside the bed which opens or closes the curtains! The food excels – and we have yet to sample the full restaurant facilities. Above all, the service is faultless, welcoming, attentive and personal. Amongst the new features is a ballroom, which would make the ultimate wedding venue, built in a style which fully compliments the character of the original architecture:

Flamboyant, exuberant, playful, grand… I will run out of epithets, and superlatives. I was just – delighted – by Adare Manor, and we feel privileged that we can still appreciate the aesthetic  wit which the Earl and Lady Caroline brought to the house, and which has been extended by subsequent generations: the last Wyndham-Quin to inhabit the property – the 7th Earl of Dunraven and Mount-Earl – moved out in 1982. Lady Caroline should have the last word: she wrote this in her 1856 book Memorials of Adare Manor…

This charming spot was my home of unclouded happiness for forty years: may Heaven’s choicest blessings be poured with equal abundance on its present and future possessors!

Falconry Fantasy

I’ve waited a whole life for this – the chance to be a falconer, if only for a moment.

Ever since I read T H White’s The Once and Future King, it’s been a fantasy of mine to interact with one of those magnificent hunting birds that he described so well. A couple of weeks ago, at Adare Manor, Robert and I got a chance to finally live that dream – yes, he read the same book and loved it just as much as I had. T H White was a falconer himself, although not a very successful one. The treat was part of a couple of days stay at Adare Manor – Robert’s post describes this fascinating place in wonderful detail.

This falcon is happier and calmer with his hood on

Our falconer at Adare Manor was Susan Kirwan, one of the team at Adare Country Pursuits. What she doesn’t know about birds would fit on a postcard. She trained her first bird, a jackdaw, at the age of nine, and was hooked. Now she shares her knowledge and her love of birds with those of us who have admired from afar but have never had an opportunity to get up close.

Susan has Saoirse, the American Bald Eagle, show off her wings

She spent the morning with us, handling each bird in turn and giving us an education on each one – habitat, habits, hunting style, personality, peculiarities, nutrition, feathers, weight – it was in-depth and fascinating. There wasn’t a question we asked that she couldn’t answer. She has spent her life studying and living with these birds.

All of the birds wore jesses (ankle leathers) and Susan showed us how to hold our gauntlets and our fingers to secure a bird once on the glove. She encouraged us to speak in a calm voice and not to betray nervousness – birds are excellent at picking up on human emotions.

Tiny, the White Faced Scopes Owl, awaits her turn with us

Some of the birds were trained to fly from perch to perch, attached to a ‘creance’ or long line. Each has a optimal weight for flying and it’s essential to keep it there, so weighing and inspecting is part of the daily routine. Food must be as close as possible to what they would eat in the wild, to preserve the level of roughage and protein. Falconry, especially when you keep several birds, is a full-time job.

Caesar is a Common Buzzard, which is a native species in Ireland

Owls, although excellent hunters for themselves, don’t make the greatest falconry hunters. However, they are often brought to Susan as motherless chicks and she becomes their parent, as they imprint readily on a human. Susan told us that the Harry Potter series started a trend among some young people of capturing owls ‘to train’ but of course this is almost impossible for an amateur, so that is how some birds have come to her aviary.

Noddy, a Dark Breasted Barn Own, has beautiful feathers and colouring

Oscar, a Eurasian Eagle Owl, has a good old ruffle

Raising an imprinted bird involves a particular set of skills and deep knowledge of the species. Susan is a certified falconer and has taken all the courses she can find to develop her skills. It was obvious, in the way she talked to and handled her birds how much she loved them.

Top: I’m obviously a ‘natural’ at this! Bottom: Well, maybe not quite yet

It was a thrill to be so close to a bald eagle. Living in Canada, I had many opportunities to observe these magnificent creatures in the wild, but I had never seen one as close up as I did at Adare. Saoirse is not quite four yet, and it takes a full four years for a bald eagle to mature and to grow both the white head and the white tail. Saoirse’s tail was there, but her head was at the salt-and-pepper stage that women of my age can relate to.

The Harris Hawk – ours was called Felix – is considered the easiest hunting bird to train because of its laid-back attitude to life and its natural ability to interact with humans. The highlight of our session came when Susan let Felix loose to fly to a high perch, and then called him down to land on our glove.

What a feeling! This IS a wild bird – Susan affixed a locator transmitter to its leg before we started so that if Felix took it into his head to fly away she could track him through the woods. She described how a falconer would track a bird before locators were used – it involved standing very still and tuning in to the sounds of the forest. Other birds would react to the sudden appearance of a hawk or falcon and the falconer would follow the sound-clues to his bird.

I learned that Oscar’s tufts aren’t his ears and that they don’t always stand up like this

We were extremely lucky to have Susan and her birds all to ourselves that morning – not sure how often that happens! But if you get a chance, don’t pass up an opportunity like this. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Thank you, Susan – you’ve made some old T H White fans very happy!

See you again, Tiny!