Showing posts with label Kilkee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kilkee. Show all posts

18 November 2020

The Precentor’s joy at
listening to the cathedral
in ‘Times and Seasons’

One of the roles of a Precentor is taking an active interest in the choral and musical life of a cathedral(Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

The music and choral tradition of a cathedral is an integral part of its mission, ministry and outreach. One of the joys of being the Precentor of Saint Mary’s Cathedral, Limerick, is the role of taking an active interest in the choral and musical life of the cathedral.

This week I received a complimentary copy of Times & Seasons, a CD recorded by Trevor Selby and the Choir of Saint Mary’s Cathedral. This CD dates from 2010, seven years before I was appointed Precentor. But already it is proving helpful as I search for recorded music that might be helpful for services during these Covid-19 days, when pandemic restrictions mean we cannot sing publicly in churches.

The 23 tracks on this CD were recorded by the cathedral choir with Trevor Selby, then the cathedral organist, and Michael Young, then the organ scholar.

This CD was recorded by Jim Callan of Callan Studios, Co Clare, in Saint Mary’s Cathedral on 3 and 4 July 2010. It represents the wide and substantial liturgical repertoire that had developed at the cathedral by then. It includes many of the choir’s favourites, but the main feature of this recording is to highlight the ‘essential round’ of liturgy through the times and seasons of the Church year.

Two morning canticles represent the service of Matins in the cathedral. The setting by Herbert Howells (1892-1983) of the traditional words of Jubilate, was written as part of his Collegium Regale for the choir of King’s College, Cambridge.

The canticle Urbs Fortitudinis – described by Bishop Harold Miller as the ‘national anthem’ of the Church of Ireland – is set to a chant by Trevor Selby.

The CD then turns to Advent, which is appropriate as I am now putting the finishing touches to my preparations for Advent, the season that marks the beginning of the Church year. The repertoire for this season is particularly strong in the cathedral thanks to Advent Carol Service, which had become a highlight in Saint Mary’s each year, usually featuring several new items.

The Celtic Advent Carol by David Angerman and Michael Barrett, features Susan O’Leary on the flute. The contrasting Behold the mountain of the Lord, Scottish paraphrases based on Isaiah 2 and Micah 4 to a setting by Thomas Tallis (1505-1585), had become firm favourites in the cathedral.

The beautiful Advent Carol by Richard Shepherd and Mary Holtby highlights the relationship between the Virgin Mary and her cousin Saint Elizabeth with Saint John the Baptist’s heralding of the birth of Christ. This is followed, appropriately, by Mary’s Magnificat by Andrew Carter, with Niamh Hennessy as soloist.

E’en so, Lord Jesus, by Paul Manz and Ruth Manz, is based on verses in Revelation 22, and with its four-octave range proved to be an enjoyable challenge.

Christmas is represented on this recording by the simple but effective This is the truth sent from above, a traditional English carol to a setting by Vaughan Williams (1872-1958). The soloist on this track is David Howes.

The Epiphany Carol Service has been a smaller affair in Saint Mary’s Cathedral, but provided an opportunity to enjoy a feast of repertoire. Peter Dyke’s setting of Three Kings, an old Flemish carol translated by Robert Graves (1895-1985), is a very approachable contemporary setting. Graves was a son of the Irish poet Alfred Perceval Graves (1846-1931) and a grandson of Bishop Charles Graves (1812-1899), who is buried in the grounds of Saint Mary’s Cathedral.

‘Boardwalk’ is a marvellous tune by Robert Ashfield (1911-2006) for Brightest and Best, by Reginald Heber. The words of the hymn are based on Matthew 2: 1-11, and the tune deserves to be better known.

The organ at Saint Mary’s boasts a magnificent tuba stop, shown to great effect on this album with the ever-popular Tuba Tune by Norman Cocker (1889-1953), which ends this section of Festive music.

Lent and Passiontide are represented first by Wash me thoroughly, based on Psalm 51: 2-3. The setting is by Charles Wesley’s grandson, Samuel Sebastian Wesley (1810-1876), whose birth bicentenary was widely celebrated the year of this recording. Emily Howe is the soloist.

The canticle Benedictus contrasts plainchant and Tudor harmony in alternate verses in a setting by Tallis.

Jesus grant me this, I pray is a 17th century poem translated by the Revd Sir Henry Williams Baker (1821-1877), editor of Hymns Ancient and Modern and sung to a setting by Percy Whitlock (1903-1946) of Rochester Cathedral, once a pupil of Vaughan Williams. Psalm 57 speaks eloquently of the pain and anguish of Passiontide but with the hope of the Resurrection. This version from the Book of Common Prayer is to chants by SS Wesley and WH Longhurst (1819-1904) of Canterbury Cathedral. These two pieces speak eloquently of the pain and anguish of Passiontide, but with the hope of the Resurrection.

John Donne’s poem ‘Resurrection,’ with a setting by Trevor Selby, provides a reflective introit to Easter celebrations:

Sleep, sleep, old Sun, thou canst not have repast,
As yet, the wound thou took’st on Friday last;
Sleep then, and rest; The world may bear thy stay.
A better Sun rose before thee to-day.


Richard Shepherd’s Easter Song of Praise is another firm favourite in celebratory style.

King of Glory, King of Peace, a poem by George Herbert (1593-1632), to a setting by JS Bach (1685-1750) arranged by Sir William Henry Harris (1883-1973) of Saint George’s Chapel, Windsor, is appropriate for Ascensiontide.

A little-known motet by Mozart, May thy Spirit rest upon us, arranged by Laurence Swinyard (1901-1986), takes the listener into Pentecost. Harvest is represented by Ye shall dwell in the land a hymn by Chatterton Dix based on Ezekiel 36 and Psalm 136 to a setting by John Stainer (1840-1901). The soloists are Harry Howes and Vivienne Crowley.

Saints’ days offer an opportunity to enjoy Ernest Bullock’s Give us the wings of faith, with its lively word-painting by Isaac Watts.

The choir reaches eventide with Sunset and Evening Star to a setting by Hubert Parry (1848-1918). Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote this poem overlooking the sea, some say at the Solen, others say at Kilkee, Limerick’s favourite resort.

With Louis Vierne’s Clair et Lune (Pièces de Fantaisie, Op 3 No 5), the organ bids a peaceful ‘Goodnight.’

The voices on this collection include Vivienne Crowley, Niamh Hennesy, Emily Howes, Laura Howes, Betty McGlone, Ruth Stanley (sopranos), Peggy Carey, Noreen Ellerker (altos), John Doyle, David Howes (tenors), and Harry Howes, Michael Howes and Paul Ryan (tenors).

‘Times & Seasons’ was recorded by Trevor Selby and the Choir of Saint Mary’s Cathedral ten years ago (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

23 July 2020

Are you right there, Michael?
Do you think you’ll get to
Kilrush before the night?

The Percy French Bar in Kilrush … recalling a ballad about the West Clare Railway (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

On the way back from Loop Head to the ferry at Killimer on Sunday afternoon (19 July 2020), two of us stopped again in Kilrush to see the Percy French Bar on Moore Street, which recalls so many humorous memories of the West Clare Railway.

Earlier that afternoon, we had admired a monument and plaque at the Marina in Kilrush that also recalls the West Clare Railway, which ran until 1961, and became the inspiration for one of the many ballads written by the songwriter Percy French.

This was a steam driven 3 ft narrow-gauge rail that ran from Ennis along the west coast of Clare, stopping at many points along the way to two termini, one at Kilrush and the other at Kilkee.

The West Clare Railway opened on 2 July 1887. Two years earlier, Charles Stewart Parnell had turned the first sod for the tracks at Miltown Malbay.

Many attempts before 1887 to provide a rail service in west Clare failed because of this was seen as remote area and investors were reluctant to risk the capital needed. New possibilities opened when the Tramways Act was passed in 1883. A narrow gauge track halved the construction costs and guaranteed returns to the investors.

William Martin Murphy was appointed as the contractor to build the railway. Murphy later became a major newspaper proprietor and caused the cause of the workers’ lockout in Dublin in the early 20th century.

While the West Clare railway was being built, a number of the directors formed a second company to build a similar line serving Kilrush and Kilkee. The two companies worked closely and the southern part of the line was eventually completed at the end of 1892.

The locomotives were designed to pull loads at a speed of 25 mph over gradients as fierce as 1 in 50 along a track 48 miles long.

The West Clare Railway guaranteed faster delivery of goods and services and brought new life to the area. Postal services quickened, newspapers from Dublin became available on the day, Kilkee became known as the ‘Brighton of the West,’ and the Lahinch golf course was laid out at this time.

The Lisdoonvarna Festival each September gained a new lease of life as passengers could get as near as Ennistymon from all parts of Ireland. The Burren cattle trade was enhanced, and the Kilrush Horse Fair and the Lahinch Garland Day celebrations took on a new significance.

By the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, five trains ran each way between Ennis and Kilrush and Kilkee, with many stopping points along the way. More than 200,000 passengers travelled on the line, with two-thirds of the passengers travelling during the summer months, and 80,000 tonnes of freight and livestock were carried each year.

The only service lost during World War I was the excursion trips by steamboat from Limerick via Cappa Pier to Kilkee. German U-boats in the Shannon Estuary put an end to them and they were never revived.

Despite the violence of the War of Independence and the Civil War, the railway continued to run. With the grouping of Irish railways after independence, the line became part of the G&SR, and the maintenance of the locomotives was based at Limerick.

During World War II, Ireland had no coal reserves and fuel became a serious concern. The West Clare Railway used local turf that was plentiful but unsuited for a steam engines’ boilers.

In post-war economic problems of the late 1940s, many Irish railway lines were closed or changed to diesel traction. The WCR was recommended for closure, but there was strong local opposition and the line became the only narrow-gauge line to receive significant investment in diesel traction, line, signalling and operating improvements.

The national railway Córas Iompair Éireann (CIE) replaced the steam engines with diesel engines. However, Clare was still losing population and emigration was, indeed, increasing. There was just not enough traffic and the last steam passenger train departed from Ennis on 15 March 1952. The line finally closed on 31 January 1961.

The plaque at Kilrush Marina recalling the West Clare Railway (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Percy French wrote ‘Are ye right there Michael’ in 1902, parodying the reputation of the West Clare Railway. He was inspired by an actual train journey in 1896.

Because of a slow train and the decision of the driver to stop for no apparent reason, French, who had left Sligo in the early morning, arrived so late for an 8 pm recital that the audience had left. The ballad caused considerable embarrassment for the rail company, which was mocked in music halls throughout Ireland and Britain because of the song.

The song led to an unsuccessful libel action against French. It is said that when French arrived late for the libel hearing, the judge chided him for being late. French reportedly responded, ‘Your honour, I travelled by the West Clare Railway,’ and the case was thrown out.

Are ye right there Michael, by Percy French (1902)

You may talk of Columbus’s sailing
Across the Atlantical Sea
But he never tried to go railing
From Ennis as far as Kilkee.
You run for the train in the morning
The excursion train starting at eight
You’re there when the clock gives the warnin’
And there for an hour you’ll wait.
And as you’re waiting in the train
You’ll hear the guard sing this refrain:

Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right?
Do you think that we'll be there before the night?
Ye’ve been so long in startin’
That ye couldn’t say for certain
Still ye might now, Michael,
So ye might!

They find out where the engine’s been hiding
And it drags you to sweet Corofin.
Says the guard: ‘Back her down on the siding
There’s a goods from Kilrush coming in.’
Perhaps it comes in two hours,
Perhaps it breaks down on the way.
‘If it does,’ says the guard, ‘by the powers
We’re here for the rest of the day!’
And while you sit and curse your luck
The train backs down into a truck.

Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right?
Have ye got the parcel there for Mrs White?
Ye haven’t, oh begorra,
Say it’s comin’ down tomorra
And well it might now, Michael,
So it might.

At Lahinch the sea shines like a jewel,
With joy you are ready to shout,
When the stoker cries out: ‘There’s no fuel
And the fire’s tee-totally out!
But hand up that bit of a log there
I’ll soon have ye out of the fix
There’s a fine clamp of turf in the bog there
And the rest go a-gatherin’ sticks.’
And while you’re breakin’ bits of trees
You hear some wise remarks like these:

‘Are ye right there, Michael? Are ye right?
Do ye think that you can get the fire to light?
Oh, an hour you’ll require
For the turf it might be drier
Well it might now, Michael,
So it might.’

Memories of the West Clare Railway by Kilrush Marina (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

A popular version by Brendan O’Dowda adds lyrics which may not have been part of the original:

Kilkee! Oh you never get near it!
You’re in luck if the train brings you back
For the permanent way is so queer
It spends most of its time off the track.
Uphill the old engine is climbin’
While the passengers push with a will
You’re in luck when you reach Ennistymon
For all the way home is downhill.
And as you’re wobblin’ through the dark
you hear the guard make this remark:

‘Are you right there, Michael, are ye right?
Do you think that you'll be home before it’s light?’
‘Tis all dependin’ whether
The old engine holds together —
And it might now, Michael, so it might! (so it might),
And it might, now, Michael, so it might.’

Memories of a ballad and a libel case in Moore Street, Kilrush, Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

22 July 2020

Spies, lighthouses, Jedis
and legends of lovers on
the rocks at Loop Head

The cliffs and sea stacks at Lovers’ Leap the end of Loop Head in Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

After lunch in Keating’s in Kilbaha on Sunday afternoon, and a stroll around the small harbour in the summer sunshine, two of us decided to continue on to Loop Head and the Bridges of Ross. As we left, we resolved that if we fail to get to Greece this summer, we must return to Kilbaha.

Loop Head is a slender finger of land pointing out into Atlantic Ocean from the most westerly point of Co Clare, between the ocean and the Shannon Estuary. But for a meagre mile of land connecting Loop Head to the rest of Co Clare, this peninsula could be an island.

Loop Head is in the middle of the Wild Atlantic Way, 2,500 km of the finest coastal scenery in Ireland. The peninsula is dotted with beautiful beaches and coves, there are panoramic cliff views, seafood restaurants and bars, a choice of aquatic activities, and an abundance of beauty spots to pause at and to stand in awe and wonder.

The Loop Head peninsula was awarded a European Destinations of Excellence Award in 2010, In 2013, Loop Head was named by The Irish Times in 2013 as the ‘Best Place to Holiday in Ireland.’ It has also been shortlisted in the ‘Best Destination’ category at the ‘World Responsible Tourism’ awards.

The peninsula is the only Irish destination listed in the 2014 ‘Global Sustainable Top 100 Destinations’ and in 2015 it received the Gold medal at the Irish Responsible Tourism Awards. Part of the movie Star Wars: The Last Jedi was filmed at Loop Head.

The lighthouse at Loop Head dates from 1670 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

There has been a lighthouse at Loop Head since 1670. At first, this was a signal fire on the roof of the lightkeeper’s single-storey cottage, that can still be seen on the grounds. There are 80 lighthouses in Ireland, all automated with 40 located offshore and 40 located on the mainland.

The present 23-metre high tower was built in 1854. It was designed by George Halpin. This is a free-standing circular plan, single bay, four stage lighthouse, surrounded by a metal framed blazed lantern with a metal walkway and cut limestone walls. The range of the light is 23 nautical miles and its signal is a white light flashing four times in 20 seconds. There is a walled enclosure around the lighthouse complex.

The lighthouse was converted to electricity in 1971. The last lighthouse keeper to serve in the lighthouse was Brendan Garvey. He spent a total of 15 years as lighthouse keeper before the lighthouse was automated in 1991.

The lighthouse was officially opened to the public in June 2011 and in the first five weeks it was visited by more than 12,000 people. The lighthouse was officially opened by the then Taoiseach, Enda Kenny, whose grandfather was a lighthouse keeper there in the 1930s. Other visitors on the opening day included Dr Aleida Guevara, daughter of revolutionary Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara.

Loop Head lighthouse is closed for the 2020 season to facilitate upgrading the public water supply and other essential works. But when the site is open, the Light Keeper’s Cottage holds an exhibition on the history of Irish Lighthouses and visitors are offered a guided tour up the tower, where the balcony offers views south as far as the Blasket Islands and north to the Twelve Pins in Connemara.

Evening sunshine on a quiet bay on Loop Head (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Just a short walk from the Loop Head Lighthouse, at ‘Lovers’ Leap,’ is a majestic seastack known as ‘Diarmuid and Gráinne’s Rock,’ a stunning natural wonder shrouded in legend. The legend says the mythical Diarmuid and Grainne were running around Ireland, trying to escape from the ageing chief Fionn MacCool, who Grainne was due to marry, and spent a night on this rock.

Loop Head was originally called Leap Head or Ceann Léime, a name that goes back to the ninth or tenth century and originates in the folk stories about Cúchulainn. The hag or witch Mal was chasing Cúchulainn around Ireland. If she managed to touch him, he was to fall in love with her. In his efforts to escape Mal, Cúchulainn jumped across to the sea stack and Mal followed. Cúchulainn jumped back to the mainland but Mal fell into the sea. Her body was said to have washed up at Hag’s Head, near the Cliffs of Moher, and her blood is said to have washed ashore at Milltown Malbay.

A restored ‘EIRE’ sign at Loop Head is one of 85 ‘EIRE’ signs placed along the western Irish seaboard during World War II to warn US and German pilots that they were entering neutral territory. Each sign was also given a number so pilots might know where they were, an early form of GPS, and Loop Head is number 45.

An aircraft first spotted by the Look-Out Post (LOP) at Loop Head in 1943 was carrying a spy for Nazi Germany, John Francis O’Reilly (‘the flighty boy’) from nearby Kilkee. He parachuted and landed near Kilkee but was questioned and arrested the next day at his family home.

O’Reilly claimed connections with the IRA from his boyhood. Before World War II, he had worked in the customs office in Rosslare, Co Wexford, spent three weeks testing a monastic vocation at Buckfast Abbey, and then worked as a kitchen porter in hotels in Penzance and Falmouth, digging air raid shelters in London, as a barman in Kentish Town, as an unsuccessful door-to-door book salesman and in the Dominion Hotel, Lancaster Gate. He left London in May 1940 he went to Jersey, where he worked as a farm labourer.

O’Reilly was working in Jersey in 1940 when the Channel Islands were occupied by Nazi Germany. He moved to Germany in 1941 and worked at a steel mill before joining the staff of Irland-Redaktion, the Irish section of the German propaganda broadcasting unit. He worked with worked with Francis Stuart, Frank Ryan and William Joyce (‘Lord Haw-Haw’) and broadcast back to neutral Ireland, then joined German Military Intelligence and started planning his return to Ireland.

O’Reilly landed at Moveen on the night of 19 December, the last of the motley band of fanatics, adventurers and misfits in the pay of Nazi Germany who landed as spies in neutral Ireland.

When he was arrested in Kilkee, he was sent to Arbour Hill Military Detention Barracks in Dublin. He escaped in 1944 but was recaptured, again at his family home in Kilkee when the bounty on his head was collected by his father, Bernard ‘Casement’ O’Reilly, a former RIC constable who was a member the group that arrested Roger Casement.

O’Reilly was released on 12 May 1945, and after World War II, O’Reilly bought the Esplanade Hotel on Parkgate Street, Dublin. He died in London in 1971 and was buried in Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.

From Loop Head, we continued on to the Bridges of Ross, where three spectacular natural sea arches once stood, until two of them fell into the sea. Today, although only one ‘bridge’ remains, the name persists in the plural.

At the Bridge of Ross at Ross Bay, looking north to the Atlantic Ocean (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

21 July 2020

A taste of Paradise, a hint of
Crete and memories of the
‘Yellow Men’ of Loop Head

The pretty harbour at Kilbaha at the western end of the Loop Head peninsula in west Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Patrick Comerford

Following Sunday afternoon’s visit to Kilrush, two of us decided to avoid Kilkee – fearing, quite rightly, that the beach would be crowded despite advice about Covid-19 social distancing – and decided, for the first time ever, to explore Loop Head and the West Clare peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic.

By accident, we found ourselves by mid-afternoon in the small fishing village and harbour of Kilbaha (Cill Bheathach, ‘Church of the Birches’), close to the south-west end of Loop Head.

Kilbaha is the very last village on the Loop Head peninsula, about 6 km east of Loop Head and about 35 km west of Kilrush. This is a place of outstanding natural beauty, surrounded by the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and the River Shannon.

Kilbaha Bay is a small open sweep that looks south-east across the mouth of the Shannon Estuary towards Ballybunion in the distance on the north-west coast of Co Kerry. It is far from any major road: the N67 runs 25 km east of the village, and the nearest town is Kilkee.

Keating’s claims to be ‘the nearest pub to New York’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

We were given a table overlooking the harbour and the bay at Keating’s Bar and Restaurant on Pier Road. Keating’s was founded in 1879 and claims to be ‘the nearest bar to New York.’

Keating’s is run by husband and wife team Bernie and Helen Keating, and is known its locally caught, fresh seafood, as well as its warm welcome and traditional, family-friendly, atmosphere.

Sitting over lunch on a sunny, summer’s Sunday afternoon, sipping a glass of cold white wine, and looking out onto the small harbour, with blue seas and blue skies, I imagined myself transported to one of the taverns in Panormos, east of Rethymnon, on a Sunday afternoon in Crete, at the Sunset Taverna below the Fortezza in Rethymnon, or in a bar on the cliffs above the caldera in Santorini, and enjoyed a taste of paradise.

A taste of Paradise – or of Crete – on a summer’s afternoon in Kilbaha (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Around the headland from the pier, and visible as you approach the village from the east, is a castellated turret built by the Keane family for Victorian ladies to enjoy the view. The ruins of the Keane home stand nearby on the top of the hill.

The small, picturesque pier was built in the early 19th century to cater for local people making a living from fishing, seaweed gathering and piloting large ships up the Shannon to Limerick docks. It was also used by cargo vessels bringing supplies to Loop Head lighthouse.

The Teardrop Memorial to the ‘Yellow Men’ who drowned near Kilbaha (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Over 100 shipwrecks have been recorded around the peninsula, and the Grave of the Yellow Men is a memorial to a group of sailors who died in Kilbaha Bay in the 19th century.

The names and nationality of these sailors are unknown, and they are referred to locally as the yellow men. Details are sketchy but they remain part of oral tradition in Kilbaha.

The nine or 11 ‘yellow men’ are buried in a mass grave looking over the Atlantic. It was originally thought that they were oriental, possibly from China or Japan – but only because of the phrase ‘yellow men.’

However, when the Spanish Armada landed in Ireland, the Spanish were referred to as ‘Yellow Men’ and local research suggests the men drowned here could have been from Spain or Portugal, or even to Morocco, Tunisia or Egypt would more likely be their point of departure.

The men either drowned or were smashed to pieces on the Kilcloher rocks, 1 km from Kilbaha, in the late 19th century.

The only surviving documentation is a school transcript of oral tradition dating from 1937-1938 and recorded by Stephen Hanrahan. It says that near Kilcloher ‘is the grave of the Yellow Men’ and that they were ‘nine shipwrecked Frenchmen’ who ‘were buried about 60 years ago.’

It was said their ship was in difficulties and they threw a rope ashore by which nine were saved. A local young man, however, cut part of this fine rope, which was considerably too long at first, so that when the ship drifted a little away from the shore, the cut rope was too short to save the others who were drowned.

The local community erected a memorial in July 2010 to commemorate the ‘Yellow Men.’

From there, we decided to head on to Loop Head and the Bridges of Ross. But we resolved that if we fail to get to Greece this summer, we must return to Kilbaha.

The pebbly shoreline at small bay at Kilbaha (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

17 October 2018

‘Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
Are kindly hearts and social glee’

Sunset on the beach at Platanes in Rethymnon … one of the photographs selected by Sheba Sultan to illustrate her selections from writers and poets (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

It is always a delight for a writer to realise another writer appreciates your work. It may be a footnote or a reference, or acknowledging an insight or original idea, sometimes it may even be a kind reference in the acknowledgements, either at the end or the beginning of a book.

I hope I never became complacent or assumed it was mere good manners when students acknowledged me when their dissertations were published as books.

But sometimes I have come across a reference or a footnote to my work long after a book has been published, without realising the author was going to do this.

Sheba Sultan, who is a lecturer in the Institute of Business Management, lives in Karachi and is one of the great modern writers in Pakistan today. We met some years ago at High Leigh in Hertfordshire when she was one of the speakers at the annual conference of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), and we have kept in contact ever since. Earlier this summer, I chaired a session at this year’s USPG conference in High Leigh that was addressed by her father, the Revd Dr Pervaiz Sultan.

In recent weeks, I have been reading Sheba’s collection of short stories The Room in the Mausoleum, first published in Karachi in 2015 and which she sent to me earlier this year. She dedicates this book to her parents, and it also includes one short story by Rabiya Faridi.

Some of these are heart-breaking stories, but they describe the reality of life in Pakistan today. ‘These stories are based on my observations of life: on the way cruelty is so often inflicted, and the naïve are manipulated,’ she writes. ‘They are my offering in empathy for the times we live in, when life can go terribly wrong. But I hope these stories also show that it is possible to glimpse beauty and joy even in the harshest of circumstances – because there is always hope.’

But her acknowledgement of my creativity is not as a writer, but in a selection of my photographs that she has chosen to illustrate a series of quotations and reflections on her Facebook page for more than a year now, often drawing inspiration from the words of other writers.

These photographs, mainly by the sea, have been taken in Ireland, in Co Limerick, Co Kerry, Co Clare, Co Wexford, and Killiney, Co Dublin, near Lichfield in Staffordshire, in Athens, and in Crete, by the sea in Platanes in Rathymnon, and in Georgioupoli.


She has used one of my photographs of the English countryside in south Staffordshire, taken near Lichfield last year, to quote the Australian-born American writer Peter Drucker (1909-2005), ‘the founder of modern management,’ who wrote:

‘Even in the flattest landscape there are passes where the road first climbs to a peak and then descends into a new valley.’ She observes: ‘These lines by Drucker make me realize that we can find beautiful possibilities even in the flattest landscapes! So stay inspired by life and keep moving ahead.’

A photograph I took last year at sunset in Athens is overlaid with words by the American poet and essayist EE Cummings (1894-1962), who signed himself e e cummings superimposed: ‘You are my sun, moon and all of stars.’

She writes: ‘Nothing like soothing coffee and a nice book of poems. “You are my sun, moon and all of stars.” How sweetly, deeply romantic. Dedicate these timeless lines by e.e. cummings to someone special.’

And she adds, ‘Thanks Patrick for this lovely sunset shot!’


A glass of wine on a table in Limerick in fading sunshine is captioned ‘Unforgettable’ in a tribute to the Pakistani singer, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan (1948-1997), celebrated as a singer of Qawwali, the devotional music of the Sufis. Jeff Buckley cited Khan as a major influence, saying, ‘He’s my Elvis,’ and performing the first few minutes of Khan’s Yeh Jo Halka Halka Suroor Hai, words Sheba has superimposed on this photograph.


A photograph of Killiney Bay, taken through the window of the Dart on the way to Bray one afternoon last year, is used to illustrate the concept of ‘Poetic Pleasure’ as she quotes the poem ‘Beyond the Sea’ by the English poet Thomas Love Peacock (1785-1866):

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
The swallow wanders fast and free:
Oh, happy bird! were I like thee,
I, too, would fly beyond the sea.

Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
Are kindly hearts and social glee:
But here for me they may not be;
My heart is gone beyond the sea.



A photograph of sunset on the beach at Platanes, near Rethymnon is linked with a quotation from the American writer Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961), ‘The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.’

This is a popularised version of a well-known quotation from Hemingway. But in a Farewell to Arms, he writes: ‘If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.’


‘Be Strong & Sieze the Day!’ she says in a caption to a photograph I took in Georgioupoli in Crete as I was walking out a narrow, rocky causeway to a small chapel on a tiny islet.

She wrote, ‘It’s Monday morning & time to start a new week with high energy like the waves unrelenting and the rocks notwithstanding.’


A photograph of the winter sky and bare trees at the Rectory in Askeaton, Co Limerick, accompanies part of the poem Christabel written in 1797 by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1722-1834):

Is the night chilly and dark?
The night is chilly, but not dark.
The thin gray cloud is spread on high,
It covers but not hides the sky.
The moon is behind, and at the full;
And yet she looks both small and dull.
The night is chill, the cloud is gray:
Tis a month before the month of May,
And the Spring comes slowly up this way.



A posting for Father’s Day is illustrated with a photograph of the cliffs and the waves I took during a walk on the beach one Sunday afternoon in Ballybunion, Co Kerry. Her words superimposed on the photograph say: ‘For a Father’s Love is as Deep as it is Strong.’

She describes Father’s Day as ‘a day for our pillars of strength, our fathers. Happy Father’s Day!’


Another photograph of cliffs and waves, taken at Kilkee, Co Clare, carries her words ‘These waves crashing against the shores of your soul, They do not know how strong you are.’

And Sheba adds ‘Be strong because you are strong!’


Finally, on a photograph taken at dusk one evening at the mouth of the River Slaney at Ferrycarrig, outside Wexford, she quotes ‘A Dream,’ a poem by Edgar Allen Poe:

In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed–
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.


The full poem reads:

In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed –
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream – that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night,
So trembled from afar –
What could there be more purely bright
In Truth’s day-star?


Do my photograph illustrate Sheba’s thoughts, or do her thoughts bring new meaning to my photographs?

Certainly, her choice of photographs and poetic quotations indicate the sensitivity found in her short stories in The Room in the Mausoleum and her understanding of the beauty and the heartbreak in the world today.

19 March 2018

How the Comerfords have
been welcoming visitors to
Doonbeg long before Trump

The Trump International Golf Links and Hotel loom over the sand-dunes in Doonbeg, Co Clare (Photograph; Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

I got to see not just one but two Saint Patrick’s Day parades this weekend: one on Saint Patrick’s Day itself, when I was invited onto the reviewing platform in Askeaton, and the second in Doonbeg, Co Clare, on Sunday afternoon [18 March 2018].

Earlier, following the Sunday services in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, and Saint Brendan’s Church, Tarbert, two of us crossed the Shannon Estuary on the ferry from Tarbert, Co Kerry, to Kilimer, Co Clare, and drove out on to Doonbeg on the west coast of Co Clare.

Doonbeg has beautiful beaches and is known for its surfing. But initially, we thought we might look for the Trump Golf resort after the controversial comments made by last week in Washington by the Taoiseach, Leo Varadkar.

But we took the wrong turn when we arrived in Doonbeg from Kilrush, and first visited the harbour and Doonmore Castle.

Doonmore Castle collapsed in the late 19th century (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

The castle was built by Philip Mac Sheeda Nor McCon. The Annals of the Four Masters refer to it as Dun More Mhic an Fhearnachaigh. At the end of the 16th century, the castle was in the possession of Donough Mac Dermot Mac an Fhearmachaigh, but Mahon MacGorman held title to one third of the castle and all of Donough’s Land.

Sir Daniel O’Brien of Dough owned the castle in 1574. Two decades later, in 1594, Mahon MacGorman assigned his interest in the place to the Earl of Thomond. Murrough MacGucarrick claimed the castle in 1619. Doonmore was confiscated by the crown in 1688 and was sold in 1703.

The castle was still inhabited in 1808, but it was in ruins in 1837. A turret at the south-west corner fell around 1898, bringing most of the walls of the upper room with it. The rest of the castle was pulled down soon after, leaving only the lower portion, from the stone vault down, intact.

The long sandy beach below the Trump Golf Links and Hotel in Doonbeg (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

We drove back through Doonbeg to the other side of the bay, then along the banks of the Creegh River, and eventually found ourselves at the Trump International Golf Links and Hotel.

If Trump delivers on his commitment to Leo Varadkar to visit his property in Doonbeg next year, then it was important to know where this is, and to understand all the fuss in recent days.

It seeks contradictory in so many ways that a man who denies global warming should seek government funding to protect his golf course from the erosion of the sand dunes on the beach – which is being exacerbated by climate change.

The wind chill made it a bitingly cold afternoon, the waves were high, and although the tide was out and long, white-and-golden sandy beach stretched out before us, we walked for only a short time, and returned to Doonbeg. We were in search of lunch, but nothing could entice me to explore the possibility of lunch in a Trump Hotel … no matter what the food is like, or how enticing the menu might be, nothing could entice me to add to that man’s wealth, no matter how meagre my contribution might be.

With Tommy Comerford and his daughter Rebecca at Comerford’s Bar in Doonbeg

Back in the heart of Doonbeg, a flatbed truck had been converted into a reviewing platform outside Comerford’s Bar, and the Saint Patrick’s Day parade was about to begin … a day after Saint Patrick’s Day.

I tried to take advantage of the absence of traffic immediately before the parade to photograph Comerford’s Bar. But I was recognised immediately as the author of the Comerford Family History blog, and Tommy Comerford and his daughter Rebecca, who were decorating the platform, invited us into Comerford’s Bar, their family-run pub and a popular music venue.

Comerford’s Bar dates from 1848, according to signs in the pub, but it has origins from earlier in the previous decade.

The Comerford family of Doonbeg is said to have originated at Clare Cottage, once known as Comerford Lodge, a pre-famine thatched cottage in Spanish Point.

In 1839, George Comerford, originally from Spanish Point, married Lucy Burns, whose family owned the pub in Doonbeg. At first, Comerford’s Bar was a single-storey thatched premises selling a variety of household groceries and serving drink at the bar.

George Comerford and Mary O’Gorman were married on 28 February 1900 (Comerford family collection)

George and Lucy Comerford were the parents of 11 children, including George, who remained in the family home. George Comerford and Mary (‘Minnie’) O’Gorman were married on 28 February 1900 and they were the parents of three children, George, Isaac and May. Minnie died on 1 November 1916, aged 52, George died on 3 July 1925, and they are buried in Doobeg.

Their eldest son, George Comerford, married Mary Anne (‘Doto’) Kent and they developed an export market for mackerel to France in the 1920s, employing local men and women to clean and prepare the fish for export. The mackerel export business wound up in the 1940s and the family decided to concentrate on farming and the bar trade.

Meanwhile, the second son, Isaac Comerford (1902-1983), remained in the Comerford family home and married Teresa Madigan. They had 11 children, of whom eight survived and two of them now run the establishment, Ita and Tommy. Inside, the premises were completely renovated in 2002.

It was a busy weekend, and I was introduced to countless other members of the family were working behind the bar and quick to offer a warm welcome.

Inside Comerford’s Bar in Doobeg, Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

After the parade, our warm welcome in Comerford’s Bar, and lunch in Tubbridy’s, we returned briefly to Comerford’s Bar and then visited the Church of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven.

This church was built in 1976, replacing an earlier church built in 1813. It has an uncommon octagonal shape, and its stained-glass windows are designed so that different colours pour down onto the altar throughout the day.

We drove back along the coast and the Wild Atlantic Way to Kilkee, and then on to Kilimer to catch the ferry back to Tarbert and to head back to Askeaton.

The modern cloisters at the Church of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven in Doonbeg (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

09 January 2018

Lady Chatterton’s literary
legacy has faded, but her
story remains fascinating

Castlemahon, the former Cork home of Lady Chatterton (Photograph: Apex Painting)

Patrick Comerford

I was writing earlier this morning about the Victorian writer Georgiana Lady Chatterton (1806-1876), her travelogues about pre-Famine Ireland, her unusual marriage arrangements after she moved from Cork to England, and her decision to become a Roman Catholic, through the influence of Cardinal Newman, only weeks before her death.

Today, she is largely forgotten as an Irish writer. So, what about Lady Chatterton’s literary legacy?

What happened to the Ferrers family, into which her niece Rebecca married?

And whatever happened to Castlemahon, the former Chatterton family home in Blackrock, Cork?

Henrietta Georgiana Marcia Lascelles Iremonger (1806-1876), Lady Chatterton (Mrs Edward Heneage Dering), by Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (1830-1923), ca 1859, oil on canvas 132 x 96.5 cm (© National Trust)

Between 1836 and 1875, Lady Chatterton wrote numerous romantic novels, poems, biographies, religious tracts and travel books. Her string of romantic ‘novels’ were consumed eagerly by her female readers, but they were nothing less than turgid fiction, and were reviled and derided by literary critics.

Cardinal John Henry Newman was a fan of her writing and praised her later works and the refinement of thought in her later fiction. When she sent a copy of her privately-published translation of selected works of Aristotle to Newman in Birmingham, he responded:

‘The Oratory, February 28, 1875,

‘My dear Lady Chatterton,

‘Thank you for your translations of Aristotle. They are well selected, clear, and good, and must have involved a good deal of trouble. But it must have been pleasant trouble.

‘I fear you must have suffered from this trying season – which is not yet over.

‘With my best remembrances to the family circle at Baddesley.

‘I am, my dear Lady Chatterton,

‘Sincerely yours,

‘John H Newman.’

But it has been said without cruelty by literary critics recently that her writing style did for prose what William McGonagall did for poetry.

Lady Chatterton and other women writers of the day were the target of a scathing essay by the novelist George Eliot, ‘Silly Novels by Lady Novelists.’

In her essay, George Eliot criticised stereotypically female authors of light-hearted romances: ‘Where there is one woman who writes from necessity, we believe there are three women who write from vanity; and, besides, there is something so antiseptic in the mere healthy fact of working for one’s bread, that the most trashy and rotten kind of feminine literature is not likely to have been produced under such circumstances. “In all labour there is profit;” but ladies’ silly novels, we imagine, are less the result of labour than of busy idleness.’

Tamworth Castle, the ancestral home of the Ferrers family (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

As for Marmion Ferrers and his family and his name, people were still fighting over the Ferrers name and title 30 years after his death, as late as 1914, when the case again came before the House of Lords.

In 1855, Marmion Ferrers became one of the legal heirs to the title of Baron Ferrers of Chartley. This title went into abeyance with the death of his uncle that year, and the two claimants were Marmion and his aunt, Lady Elizabeth Boultbee.

Marmion’s mother was Lady Elizabeth’s sister, Lady Harriet Anne Townshend (1782-1845), who married Edward Ferrers (1790-1830) in 1813. The two sisters became the legal heirs to their brother, George Townshend (1778-1855), 3rd Marquess Townshend.

Edward Ferrers (1790-1830) by Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (© National Trust)

The Ferrers title had been inherited in the Devereux family by the Earls of Essex. Robert Devereux, 3rd Earl of Essex and Lord of the Manor of Lichfield, had two sisters, Lady Frances Devereux (1590-1674), who in 1616 married William Seymour (1587-1660), later Duke of Somerset; and Lady Dorothy Devereux, who married Sir Henry Shirley, whose descendants held the titles of Earl Shirley and Viscount Tamworth.

Lady Frances Devereux (1590-1674), Duchess of Somerset … William Comberford’s ‘trulie virtuous ladie’

As the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, Frances also held properties in Lichfield, Tamworth, Wigginton and Comberford. When she died on 24 April 1674, she left her collection of 1,000 books to Lichfield Cathedral, including the Saint Chad’s Gospels and a book of pedigrees that had been bought for her by her close friend, Colonel William Comberford. He died in 1656, and in his will he described her as ‘the Right Honorable and trulie virtuous ladie …’

The Ferrers title was called out of abeyance in favour of Lady Dorothy’s grandson, Sir Robert Shirley, who was made 1st Earl Shirley and was also recognised as the 13th Baron Ferrers of Chartley. While the title of Viscount Tamworth remained in the Shirley family, the Ferrers title and Tamworth Castle descended to his granddaughter Lady Elizabeth (Shirley) Compton (1694-1741), Countess of Northampton. Her only child, Lady Charlotte Compton, was recognised as Baroness Ferrers of Chartley.

Charlotte married George Townshend (1724-1807), the 1st Marquess Townshend. When the Townshend family came to live at Tamworth Castle in 1767, they also bought the Moat House, the former Comberford family Tudor Gothic house on Lichfield Street, Tamworth.

The Moat House, the former Comberford family Tudor Gothic house on Lichfield Street, Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Lord Townshend was Viceroy of Ireland (1767-1772) and gave his name to Townsend (sic) Street, Dublin, originally known as Lazer’s Hill. when Charlotte died in Dublin on 14 December 1770, the Ferrers title was subsumed in the Townshend titles until 1855 and the death of her grandson George, 3rd Marquess, who had a nephew and a sister as his co-heirs. His sister, Lady Harriett Ferrers, married a distant cousin, Edward Ferrers (1790-1830) of Baddesley Clinton, who was descended from the Lords Ferrers of Groby.

George Townshend had owned both Tamworth Castle and the Moat House on Lichfield Street. But he dissipated his fortune and estates and found himself at the centre of a long-running scandal when his wife, Sarah Dunn-Gardner, ran off with a brewer John Margetts and married him bigamously in Gretna Green in 1809. They had several children who assumed the Townshend name, and their eldest son, John Townshend (1811-1903), assumed the title of Earl of Leicester.

Eventually, Sarah’s children dropped their claims, and Townshend’s brother, Lord Charles Vere Ferrers Townshend (1785-1853), bought back Tamworth Castle in 1833. But the family never recovered the Moat House, and for the rest of his life George Townshend lived in exile in Italy, where he died in Genoa on 31 December 1855 at the age of 77. Meanwhile, his brother Charles had died in 1853, and the claim to the Ferrers title passed to his sister and his nephew.

Marmion Ferrers died in 1884, and he and Rebecca had no children. All his brothers had also died without surviving sons – including Groby Thomas Ferrers, Compton Gerard Ferrers and Tamworth George Ferrers – save one brother, Charles John Ferrers, who had died in 1873.

Charles had lived in England with his mother, brothers and sisters at Baddesley Clinton Hall until about 1840, when he moved to Hampton Lodge near Warwick. He had an affair with a young woman, Sarah Pittaway, who had once been a servant in his mother’s home. They had several children, and in 1850 Charles moved the entire family across the Atlantic to Bremen in Cook County, Illinois.

But Charles never married Sarah and he died on 3 February 1873 in Illinois, leaving five sons and three daughters, two of whom had been born in Warwick before the family left England. Those two had been baptised and named Pittaway rather than Ferrers, with no father’s name on their birth certificates.

An elaborate Ferrers family monument in Saint Editha’s Church, Tamworth (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Ever since, the Ferrers title has remained in abeyance, and the family tree and the descent of Basseley Hall by marriage and through distant relatives of the Ferrers family are so difficult to disentangle that it is unlikely that a claimant would ever emerge.

As for the Chatterton family, when Georgian’s first husband, Sir William, died in 1855, the title of baronet passed to his brother, General Sir James Chatterton (1794-1868).

General Sir James Charles Chatterton was born in 1794 and entered the British Army in 1809 as a cornet, the fifth grade of commissioned officer in a cavalry group who carried the colours. He fought in the Peninsular War, at the Battles of Quatre Bras and Waterloo and in France during the advance on Paris.

Sir James bore a banner at the Duke of Wellington’s funeral, having risen to the rank of General. He commanded the 4th Dragoon Guards from 1831 to 1848. He was then MP for Cork (1849-1852) and High Sheriff of Co Cork (1851). He was Colonel of his regiment from 22 November 1868 until his death in January 1874. He is buried in Plot 40, Brookwood Cemetery, Surrey. A window was erected in his memory in Saint Fin Barre's Cathedral, Cork.

General Sir James Chatterton (1794-1868) … a photograph sold in recent years on eBay

When Sir James died, the Chatterton family title died out too, but members of the extended family continued to be involved in public life.

Hedges Eyre Chatterton (1819-1910), a second cousin of Rebecca Orpen, was Conservative MP for Dublin University, Solicitor-General and then Attorney-General of Ireland, and later Vice-Chancellor of Ireland.

He is remembered for his ill-advised attempt to thwart Dublin Corporation’s decision to change the name of Sackville Street to O’Connell Street. Dublin Corporation voted for the name change in 1885, but it aroused considerable objections from local residents, and one resident sought an injunction.

Chatterton granted the injunction on the grounds that the corporation had exceeded its statutory powers. Rather unwisely, though, he also attacked the merits of the decision, accusing the Corporation of ‘sentimental notions.’ Dublin Corporation was angered by both the decision and the criticisms, and in what was seen as an insult to the judge, Temple Street, then frequented by prostitutes, was briefly renamed Chatterton Street.

The controversy was short-lived: Dublin Corporation was granted the necessary powers in 1890. By the time the new name had become official in 1924, it had gained popular acceptance.

Hedges Chatterton was an uncle of the Cork-born missionary Eyre Chatterton (1863-1950). He was born in Monkstown, Co Cork, and headed the Dublin University Mission to Chhota Nagpur (1891-1900) before becoming the first Bishop of Nagpur (1902-1925) in India.

Castlemahon, the Chatterton family’s former home on Castle Road, near Blackrock Castle, had been known until the late 1700s as Tarkfield. Dating from 1798, it was owned by Sir James Chatterton, the 1st Baronet, and passed to subsequent generations of the Chatterton family.

In the mid-20th century, Castlemahon was owned by the Irish golfer Jimmy Bruen, winner of the British Open in the 1940s, who was given the house by his parents as a wedding present. It stopped being a private residence in 1985 when it was bought by Maura and Kevin Whelan, who ran a 16-room nursing home there until 2006. It was then placed on market, along with 1.75 acres.

Castlemahon has since been refurbished and is now a youth and retreat centre run by the Redemptorists and has been renamed Scala. Meanwhile, Baddesley Clinton, once the home of ‘The Quartet,’ has been the property of the National Trust since 1980, has crawled reluctantly into the 21st century.



Further Reading:

Burke’s Irish Families, s.v. ‘Orpen’.
Burke’s Peerage, various editions, s.v. ‘Chatterrton’.
Dictionary of National Biography, vol 10, p 143.
Frances Clarke ‘Chatterton, (Henrietta) Georgiana,’ Dictionary of Irish Biography (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press for the Royal Irish Academy).

Lady Chatterton, Rambles in the South of Ireland (2 vols, 839).
EH Dering, Memoirs of Georgiana, Lady Chatterton (1878).

Virginia Blain, Patricia Clements, Isobel Grundy (eds), The Feminist Companion to Literature in English (1990).
‘Letters from the Coast of Clare, No VIII,’ Dublin University Magazine, September 1841, pp 336-345.
Rolf Loeber and Magda Loeber, A guide to Irish fiction 1650-1900 (2006).
Goddard Henry Orpen, The Orpen Family, (Frome and London: Butler & Tanner, for the author, 1930).
Joyce Sugg, Ever Yours Affly: John Henry Newman and his Female Circle (Gracewing, 1996).
John Sutherland, The Longman Companion to Victorian Fiction (1990).

The bizarre life of
Lady Chatterton,
the Victorian writer who
changed Kilkee for ever

Henrietta Georgiana Marcia Lascelles Iremonger (1806-1876), Lady Chatterton (Mrs Edward Heneage Dering) by Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (1830-1923), ca 1859, oil on canvas 132 x 96.5 cm (© National Trust)

Patrick Comerford

I was writing last week about the Victorian bandstands in Dun Laoghaire, Co Dublin, Bray, Co Wicklow, and Kilkee, Co Clare, and discussed how the first bathing box erected in the West Clare resort in the 1840s was known as the Lady Chatterton.

It was named after the traveller and writer, Georgiana Lady Chatterton (1806-1876), later Mrs Dering, who gave the box to the town soon after her Rambles in the South of Ireland during the year 1838 was published in two volumes in 1839. The book brought the attention of Victorian travellers to Kilkee, helping to develop its appeal as a 19th century holiday resort.

Lady Chatterton was born Henrietta Georgiana Marcia Lascelles Iremonger on 11 November 1806 at 24 Arlington Street, Piccadilly, London. She was the only child of Canon Lascelles Iremonger, a prebendary of Winchester Cathedral and chaplain to the House of Commons, and his wife Sarah (Gambier), a sister of the inept Admiral James Gambier (1756-1833), Lord Gambier, known as ‘Dismal Jimmy’ by the men under his command.

When she was still only 17, Georgiana married an Irish landowner, Sir William Abraham Chatterton (1794-1855), 2nd Baronet, of Castlemahon, Co Cork, on 3 August 1824. Her only sister, Catherine, had already in 1805 married Walter Jones (1754-1839) of Drumsna, Co Leitrim, and Corke Abbey, Bray, Co Wicklow. He was MP for Coleraine (1798-1809), Governor of Co Leitrim (1805) and a nephew of the 1st Marquess of Waterford.

The Chattertons were a large, extended landed family, and the title of baronet had been given to Sir William’s father, Sir James Chatterton (1750-1806), Keeper of the State Papers.

In the first years after their marriage, Georgiana and William divided their time between Ireland, England, Italy, and Germany, mixing in literary and social circles. In London, she met Robert Browning, Charles Dickens and William Wordsworth, and her diary records regular meetings with the Duchess of Kent and Queen Victoria at Tunbridge Wells.

Sir William appeared anonymously in Georgiana’s first book, Aunt Dorothy’s Tales, which was published in two volumes in 1837. This was followed two years later by Rambles in the South of Ireland. It was so successful that the first edition was sold out within a few weeks of publication in 1839.

The Franciscan ruins in Askeaton … Lady Chatterton found ‘the cloisters are still very perfect; small, but beautifully finished’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Her Rambles in the South of Ireland was a Victorian travelogue, vividly describing the beauty of the Irish countryside and popular scenic locations. International travel became increasingly popular during Queen Victoria’s reign, and Ireland became popular with oil painters, poets, naturalists and enthusiasts of riding, hunting and fishing.

She expressed a high moral tone and an earnest desire to do good. But, while her style was well-meaning, it was non-judgmental and superficial. She was full of enthusiasm, but she knew she was writing for the growing tourism market and so did not dwell on the squalor and destitution she found.

She visited and sketched the ruins of the Desmond castle, the banqueting hall and the Hellfire Club in Askeaton, Co Limerick, and the ruins of the Franciscan friary or abbey, including the church, and where she found ‘the cloisters are still very perfect; small, but beautifully finished.’

She found Askeaton an ‘interesting place’ and said the fact that it ‘is not often visited by strangers, is shewn by the fact there being no beggars in the town, no guide, no old man or boy on the look-out for a penny.’

The places Lady Chatterton visited included West Cork, Killarney, Dingle, the Skellig Islands, Limerick, Castleconnell and many parts of Co Clare. She described town and country life, including the lives of the Irish peasants, but without dwelling on the realities of poverty. She wrote about ‘the interesting, intelligent, grateful Irish peasantry’ in their cottages and cabins, with rooms lined with china presses and wardrobes and bookstands filled with religious books.

At Dromoland Castle, she found ‘a splendid abode, now nearly finished … a magnificent place erected without ruining the possessor. Sir Lucas O’Brien lives there in a style of hospitable splendour, which does credit to his good taste and kind heart: the rich are welcome, and the poor taken care of.’

She made a detour to visit the ruins of Quin Abbey. ‘It stands in a green plain near the clear river. The cloisters resemble those of Askeaton, and are in as good preservation; indeed, the whole building, except the roof, is entire.’ For her, Ennistymon was ‘a primitive little place in a mountain valley.’

Walking along the cliff walk in Kilkee (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

In Kilkee, she had ‘infinite pleasure in exploring the grass-grown and interesting nooks of deserted Ireland – in arriving at inns where they do not know by rote the whole list of one’s wants; where the landlady’s face expresses a refreshing mixture of surprise, awe, and pleasure, in which cannot be detected that cold, confident, sum-total-of-a-bill sort of look, which is visible on the blazé countenances of foreign innkeepers.’

From Kilkee, she travelled on to Loop Head, Carrigaholt, Kilrush, Ennis and Killaloe, where she stayed in Clarisford House. She records that ‘Killaloe is chiefly indebted for improvements to Bishop Arbuthnot. He restored the cathedral, which he found nearly a ruin. The long bridge, over the impetuous Shannon, was impassable when he came to the see, seven of the centre arches having been carried away; owing to the Bishop’s exertions, they were replaced by the five large arches which now exist, making the bridge one of fifteen arches. He also rebuilt the Episcopal palace, which is now a most comfortable house; and adorned the grounds and gardens.’

Meanwhile, her brother-in-law’s ancestral home at Headfort in Drumsna, Co Leitrim, had fallen into ruins and Anthony Trollope’s first published novel was written while he was staying in Drumsna in 1843, inspired by the ruins of Headfort. Trollope wrote in his diary: ‘While I was still among the ruined walls and decayed beams I fabricated the plot of The Macdermots of Ballycloran.’

Lady Chatterton’s husband, Sir William, derived most of his income from his rentals in Co Cork. But the Great Famine in 1845-1851 put an end to this source of income, and the couple moved to a smaller house at Bloxworth, west of Poole, in Dorset, where they lived until 1852.

They invited Sir William’s young niece, Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (1830-1923) to live with them. Her father, Dr Abraham Orpen (1779-1836) of Cork, was an illegitimate son of Major Edward Orpen (1741-1817), born 16 years before his parents married; her mother, Martha Chatterton, was Sir William’s sister. Rebecca was a six-year-old when her father died in 1836; although her mother continued to live on until 1857, Rebecca became a ward of her uncle and aunt. Her second cousins included Raymond d’Audemer Orpen (1837-1930), later Bishop of Limerick and Ardfert (1907-1921), and Arthur Herbert Orpen, father of the Irish artist Sir William Orpen (1878-1931).

For William and Georgiana, Bloxworth was a retreat to a frugal existence. But there she realised from the sales of earlier books that writing could provide a financial solution to their problems. She soon became a publishing success one again. Her resolve soon paid off, and in 1852 they moved with Rebecca to Rolls Park, Chigwell, Essex, the home of the Harvey family.

But Georgiana’s return to fame and her new income came too late for Sir William. He died on 5 August 1855. The family title then passed to his brother as third baronet, General Sir James Charles Chatterton.

Edward Heneage Dering in the Grounds of Baddesley Clinton by Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (© National Trust)

Meanwhile, in 1859, Rebecca had fallen in love with a dashing ex-Guardsman and rector’s son, Edward Heneage Dering (1827-1892), who had recently resigned his commission in the Coldstream Guards. Edward Dering was also a novelist, and was the younger son of Canon Cholmeley Edward John Dering (1790-1848), Rector of Pluckley, Kent, and a chaplain to King William IV and Queen Victoria; Canon Dering was a grandson of Sir Edward Dering, 6th Baronet (1732-1798), MP for New Romney.

Rebecca was now 29, but social convention, if not the law, left Edward feeling obliged to ask formally for Georgiana’s permission to marry her niece.

However, the 53-year-old widowed Lady Chatterton had a hearing impediment; she misheard the request and gladly accepted what she heard as a surprising proposal for marriage from a man almost half her age. Dering was too gallant to correct her mistake and found himself engaged to a lady old enough to be his mother.

Georgiana and Edward were duly married in Saint George’s Church, Hanover Square, London, on 1 June 1859. After their marriage and against all conventions, Georgiana continued to use her former title, writing under the name of Lady Chatterton, although she was no longer entitled to the title and that her sister-in-law was now Lady Chatterton.

Baddesley Clinton … the moated manor house became the shared home of ‘The Quartet’ (Photograph: DeFacto/Wikipedia)

If Rebecca Orpen was initially downcast and disappointed, she soon attracted the attention of Edward Dering’s closest friend, Marmion Edward Ferrers (1813-1884), the last old squire of Baddesley Clinton Hall, a dilapidated and moated mansion between Solihull and Warwick.

Rebecca and Marmion promptly married and moved into Baddesley Clinton. There she blossomed as a prolific and talented amateur artist, working in both oil and watercolour, and much of her work remains in the house to this day. Rebecca and Marmion were soon joined at the house by Georgiana and Edward. All four entered a domestic arrangement that had the neighbours gossiping.

Marmion Edward Ferrers (1813-1884), ‘The Squire's Evening Walk’ by Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen (© National Trust)

The four friends – known as ‘The Quartet’ – formed an unlikely kind of Bloomsbury Group, retiring from the world to paint portraits, write novels and wrap themselves in 17th century costumes, playing out the roles they imagined were appropriate to such a great house, revelling in art, history and religion. Within their close circle of friends, the two women had their own pet names – Georgiana was Gintle and Rebecca was Pysie.

At least two Catholic martyr-saints, Robert Southwell and Nicholas Owen, had once walked the corridors of Baddesley Clinton. There the Quartet created a Catholic chapel on the first floor, with Rebecca supplying the paintings and Georgiana the leather hangings, decorated with birds and flowers. There are so many portraits of Marmion and Rebecca, Edward and Georgiana at Baddesley that the visitor might imagine they are still living there.

A copy of the portrait of Cardinal Newman by Sir John Everett Milais, in University Church Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The local vicar condemned them from the pulpit, and the Victorian equivalent of the tabloid press had a field day. But Cardinal John Henry Newman became a friend of the family and he received Edward Dering and Rebecca and Marmion Ferrers into the Roman Catholic Church in 1865. He continued to visit Baddesley, and there is a portrait of him by Rebecca in the lower landing.

In an exchange of correspondence with Georgiana, Newman also shared privately his grief at the death of his lifelong friend, Ambrose St John, who had lived with Newman as his companion for 32 years.

Early in 1875, Georgiana privately published a one-volume selection of works by Aristotle she had translated from the Greek, and she sent a copy to Newman.

Georgiana still wavered for a while about becoming a Roman Catholic. But in the course of a lengthy correspondence with William Bernard Ullathorne, Bishop of Birmingham, on doctrinal points, including the Real Presence, receiving Communion under both kinds, the decrees of the Council of Trent, clerical celibacy and Papal infallibility, she was received into the Roman Catholic Church at the end of August 1875 by an Irish priest, Father Joseph Kelly of Warwick.

When she wrote to Newman to tell him of her decision, he replied from the Oratory on 20 September 1875:

‘My dear Lady Chatterton,

‘You will easily understand how I rejoiced to read your letter this morning. You will be rewarded abundantly, do not doubt it, for the pain, anxiety, and weariness you have gone through in arriving at the safe ground and sure home of peace where you now are.

‘I congratulate, with all my heart, the dear friends who surround you upon so happy a termination of their own anxieties and prayers.

‘May God keep you ever in the narrow way, and shield you from all those temptations and trials by which so many earnest souls are wrecked.

‘This is the sincere prayer of yours most truly,

‘John H Newman.’

That year, she published her final book, a translation of The Consolation of the Devout Soul (With an Appendix of The Holy Fear of God), a spiritual guide by an Italian priest Father Giuseppe Frassinetti and first published in Italian in 1852.

Her correspondence with Bishop Ullathorne continued for some weeks. But she died at Malvern Wells in Worcestershire on 6 February 1876 at the age of 69.

Meanwhile, thanks to Georgiana’s generosity, Marmion Ferrers had refurbished his once-crumbling mansion. He died there in 1884.

Rebecca Dulcibella Orpen, Self Portrait (© National Trust)

But this was not the end of a story with all the elements of one of Lady Chatterton’s own romantic novels: 13 months after Marmion Ferrers died, a marriage delayed by 30 years took place in the small convent chapel at Baddesley Clinton. Edward Hering and Rebecca Marmion at last entered the final story of their lives, hand-in-hand. Edward died in 1892, Rebecca lived into her 90s and continued to live at Baddesley Clinton, the last survivor of ‘The Quartet.’

Following Edward’s death in 1892, the writer Fletcher Moss visited Baddesley Clinton. In his Pilgrimages to Old Homes (1912), Moss described the moment he was greeted at the door by a priest in a Benedictine habit: ‘In the quaint epauletted livery of black is a butler whose mien is that of a family servant – not one who is bought with mere wages, but a survival from the days when servants were serfs or chattels, bred and reared on, and part of, the estate.’ Speaking of Rebecca, he goes on: ‘In thorough harmony with the place is the Lady of the Manor, a handsome courteous elderly lady whose time is spent in works of charity, and who comes to say a few words of welcome not only for this day but also for another.’

An account left by her last servant, described life in the house in the 1920s, although it could easily have been the 1820s. ‘There was no electric light or lamps, only candles, rather trying in the winter, but we got used to it and managed quite well, but at times it was quite scary,’ she wrote. ‘Our day was spent doing the usual chores. The kitchen was one of the sights of the Hall, fitted out with lovely copper saucepans and their lids arranged all round. It took two maids two mornings to clean – hard work.’

‘The parish priest came to lunch twice a week,’ she wrote, ‘on Mondays and Fridays, a strict fish day, and a sirloin of beef was cooked on a big spit in front of the open log fire, with wood from off the estate.’

Rebecca died on 12 September 1923, aged 93. All four members of ‘The Quartet’ are buried beside each other in the local churchyard.

Next: Did Lady Chatterton leave a literary legacy?

Summer sun at Kilkee, Co Clare … Lady Chatterton’s travel writings made Kilkee a popular Victorian resort (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2017)

Further Reading:

Burke’s Irish Families, s.v. ‘Orpen’.
Burke’s Peerage, various editions, s.v. ‘Chatterrton’.
Dictionary of National Biography, vol 10, p 143.
Frances Clarke ‘Chatterton, (Henrietta) Georgiana,’ Dictionary of Irish Biography (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press for the Royal Irish Academy).

Lady Chatterton, Rambles in the South of Ireland (2 vols, 839).
EH Dering, Memoirs of Georgiana, Lady Chatterton (1878).

Virginia Blain, Patricia Clements, Isobel Grundy (eds), The Feminist Companion to Literature in English (1990).
‘Letters from the Coast of Clare, No VIII,’ Dublin University Magazine, September 1841, pp 336-345.
Rolf Loeber and Magda Loeber, A guide to Irish fiction 1650-1900 (2006).
Goddard Henry Orpen, The Orpen Family, (Frome and London: Butler & Tanner, for the author, 1930).
Joyce Sugg, Ever Yours Affly: John Henry Newman and his Female Circle (Gracewing, 1996).
John Sutherland, The Longman Companion to Victorian Fiction (1990).