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Murlough Country House + Dundrum Down

The Business of Heaven on Earth

County Down, the east coast riviera of the north of Ireland, is blessed with large Georgian houses. The five bay two storey variety with all the upright prettiness of a doll’s house is especially prevalent in the southern half of this county. Woodford House, Dromara; Milltown House, Lenaderg; Beech Park, Leansmount and Kilmore House, all in Lurgan; Tullymurry House, Newry; Cabragh House, Rathfriland; and Annaghanoon House, Waringstown are just a few examples.

Murlough Country House (formerly known as Murlough Farm) on Keel Point betwixt Dundrum Bay and Murlough Bay looks earlier than most. The roof is higher; the wall to window ratio greater; the window boxes deeper. It firmly falls into the category ‘middling sized houses’ (a phrase originally adapted by Sir Charles Brett from Maurice Craig’s 1976 Classic Houses of the Middle Size) in Philip Smith’s 2019 guide to architecture in South County Down, a continuation of Charlie’s series. The windowsills and entrance door are painted peach to match the colour of the jagged brick eaves.

We spoke to leaders in tourism and the arts to garner their views ahead of staying at the house and experiencing the local village of Dundrum. Tim Knox, Director of the Royal Collection, observes, “Murlough Country House is indeed a rather fine house, charmingly Irish and looking very good newly harled and painted.” Charles Plante, international tastemaker and former Art Advisor to Sir Hardy Amies, Queen Elizabeth II’s dressmaker, remarks, “This house brings together neoclassical and provincial architecture in an appealing vernacular – the Georgian style at its best and rarest in Ireland.”

David Roberts, Director of Strategic Development at Tourism NI, elaborates, “Northern Ireland’s heritage is a cornerstone of our tourism offering. For more than a decade, Tourism NI and our partners have been working closely together to drive investment in high quality heritage experiences and accommodation which are attractive to visitors. Our research has shown that the ‘culturally curious’ segment of visitors represents great potential for being attracted to Northern Ireland in the future.”

He tells us, “Historic buildings can provide exciting, place based visitor experiences which can encourage longer stays in one location and more local exploring. Promoting connections between places and a more regionally balanced tourism sector are key objectives for the emerging Northern Ireland tourism strategy. The visitor brand for Northern Ireland ‘Embrace A Giant Spirit’ embodies and draws inspiration from the area’s heritage. Tourism NI is delighted to have Murlough Country House as a provider of high quality visitor accommodation. It provides a fantastic base for visitors to explore the Mournes and the wider area.”

Philip Smith writes, “The first Murlough House was not the large Victorian era Italianate style villa built by Lord Downshire but this smaller less formal yet in many respects more interesting house about one kilometre to the east. It is a charming unpretentious two storey over high basement block with a steeply pitched hipped roof, large multiphase but relatively homogeneous triple pile return and two sturdy centrally positioned chimneystacks.” Mourne Farm started out as a slim rectangular block with a central staircase return wing. An extension either side of the return enlarged the building: the blocked up rear elevation windows of the 18th century house became cupboards. Horn free sashes give way to the later horned variety.

He notes that the long straight tree lined avenue is a good indicator of age and is likely to be early 18th century despite not appearing on Oliver Sloane’s Down Map of 1739. The present house is marked on Kennedy’s Map of 1755. The Centre for Archaeology Fieldwork at Queen’s University Belfast completed an Excavation Report of Blundell’s House at Dundrum Castle in 2009. Included in this report is a 1758 ink, graphite and wash drawing by Mary Delany titled The Ruins of Dundrum Castle. In the background it appears to show Murlough Farm albeit three rather than five bays wide. The Delanys rented Mount Panther three kilometres to the north of Dundrum around that time.

Philip continues, “Since the mid 1600s, the Blundells had been absentees and thereafter their house may have been occupied by their agents; but by 1748 the ‘slate house by the castle of Dundrum’ was reported to be in ‘disrepair’ and not long after this ‘Murlough House’ begins to appear in the record; it may well, therefore, have been built as a replacement.” The hillside and hilltop ruins of the 12th century Dundrum Castle form a spectacular backdrop to the village and the perfect vantage point to survey the Ancient Kingdom of Mourne.

Dr Ciarán Reilly records in The Evolution of the Irish Land Agent: The Management of the Blundell Estate in the 18th century, 2018, that the career of father and son Henry and John Hatch as agents of the 5,600 hectare Blundell Estate lasted over 50 years. The Dublin based Henry Hatch, taking up his position in 1747, would have housed property managers at Murlough Farm. The 3rd Marquess of Downshire, a Blundell descendant, would deliver a 91 metre long pier for Dundrum in the early 19th century. The Downshire family still retains a house in Murlough.

The Armstrong family lived in Murlough Country House from 1991 to 2023 before selling it to the current owners. Belfast architect Dawson Stelfox advised on heritage matters. “We restored the blue slate and copper nail roof,” Elaine Armstrong confirms, “and added hipped roofs over the two flat roofed extensions to the back. We also added the authentic orangery style Conservatory. When we got the front door lock restored, the craftsman said the key dates from 1730. It’s a special building and we fell in love with it. We’re so thrilled to see it being brought back into life as holiday accommodation.”

Like many Belfast citizens, Clive Staples Lewis developed an early love of the Mourne Mountains. Or the Mourne Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty as it’s now known: all 57,000 protected hectares. The novelist, theologian and mathematician wrote, “I have seen landscapes, notably in the Mourne Mountains and southwards which under a particular light made me feel that at any moment a giant might raise his head over the next ridge. I yearn to see County Down in the snow; one almost expects to see a march of dwarves dashing past. How I long to break into a world where such things were true.”

The restoration of Murlough Country House and its 2.4 hectare estate – a little piece of Narnia – is an essay on correct conservation, surpassing any former glory. The courtyard facing elevation, or southeast front, is different in character to the entrance front. All three storeys are on full display and the series of hipped roofs lends it the delineated air of a château. The white painted harling of the house so admired by Tim Knox contrasts with the grey rubblestone and cut stone of the outbuildings. This is holiday accommodation at its finest.

On the lower ground floor, the large southeast facing Shield’s Conservatory with a dining table for 12 people projects into the courtyard. Agar’s Snug, a cosy room with a wood burning stove leads off the professional chef’s standard Shield’s Kitchen fitted with Shaker style cupboards. Blundell is an accessible bedroom and shower room suite. No 18th century house is complete without a Boot Room.

At ground floor level, the elegant Entrance Hall terminated by a flying dogleg staircase is flanked by Maitland, a drawing room, and Downshire, a cinema. Formerly a dining room, a dumb waiter still connects Downshire to the lower ground floor. The Entrance Hall spans three metres and three centuries of living (from 18th century elegance to 21st century technology). An abbreviated enfilade. Mitchell is the king size ground floor bedroom with a shower room next door. It’s impossible to tell it was once the kitchen. Four first floor bedrooms look out across the gardens to Murlough National Nature Reserve and onwards to the Mountains of Mourne. A tasteful roundelay.

Annesley is the principal suite and faces northwest with views onto the side lawn. The walls are painted ‘clover’ in the Edward Bulmer range. A vintage Louis de Poortere rug adds even more vibrancy. Dual aspect super king size Armstrong bedroom occupies the full depth of the 18th century main block. Two shuttered northwest facing windows set into the thick walls frame the front lawn and paddock; a third window overlooks the driveway. The king size Macartney also overlooks the front lawn and paddock. Lore has it that the handblown glass in the two sash windows of this room was salvaged from a Jacobean house. Magennes is a northeast facing king size bedroom. A former nursery, this sunny yellow room was featured in a Farrow and Ball book. We recognise Nina Campbell and Christopher Farr curtains and cushions.

“Oh I do love a bit of T ‘n’ G,” our friend Min Hogg, Founding Editor of The World of Interiors, told us over coffee one time in her nursery floor apartment above the treetops of Brompton Square in London. There’s plenty of tongue and groove panelling in these bedrooms. Naming rooms is very much a South County Down tradition: think Mourne Park House. At Murlough, the rooms are called after families associated with the house and area. No 21st century country house is complete without a Sauna.

The abutting estates of Murlough Country House and Murlough House share a coastal landmass of great natural beauty attached to mainland all protected by the National Trust. Wetlands on one side, sandy beach on the other. Designated in 1967, Murlough is Ireland’s first National Nature Reserve and has the country’s best and most extensive dune heath. We stroll through its 280 unspoiled hectares. Wildflowers, wildfowl, wild ponies (everything is wild); unbothered living, forever steeped in Sunday stillness … it’s hard to believe Belfast is only 50 kilometres away and Dublin 150 kilometres. We care to disagree with Clive Staples Lewis, “Adventures are never fun while you’re having them.”

Now London based, artist Anne Davey Orr shares her reflections with us from across the water on Murlough. As Founding Editor and Publisher of Ulster Architect magazine, former Board Member of Belfast Civic Trust, Arts Council, National Trust, Design Council and Chair of The Lyric Theatre Belfast she is well placed. “Murlough or Muirbolc in Gaelige means ‘seabag’ or ‘inlet’. The modesty of this title hides its importance on a number of levels.”

Anne continues, “These heartlands of the MacCartan and MacGuinness clans were forfeited to John de Courcy when he marched on Ulster in his attempts to conquer Ireland. MacGuinness Castle was renamed Dundrum Castle. Donal Oge MacCartan, a MacGuinness cousin, surrendered the castle in 1601 to Lord Mountjoy, in Irish terms renowned for the gaol named after him in Dublin. In 1605 it was made over to Lord Cromwell and sold to Sir George Blundell in 1636.”

Maurice Craig states in The Architecture of Ireland, 1982, “John de Courcy set out from Dublin and took Downpatrick in 1176. He married the daughter of the King of Man and kept princely state himself, founding Inch Abbey and (through his wife) Grey Abbey, and beginning the castles of Carrickfergus and Dundrum.” The layering of the centuries. The entrance to Murlough Country House encapsulates the duality of its character: simple square capped pillars heralding a farmhouse; a stretch of walls attached to either side suggesting something grander. On the far side of the main road, the Slidderyford Dolmen – a megalithic portal tomb – makes Dundrum Castle look positively modern.

Neighbour Edward ‘Ned’ Cummins calls by for coffee in Shield’s Conservatory. We get chatting: “I’ve lived here all my life. My dad came to work here with horses on this farm when he was 14 years of age. I own the retired racehorses in the field next door. If I hadn’t accepted them they would’ve gone to France to be eaten. The proper way into this house was down my lane before what they call the ‘Downshire Bridge’ was built. Before that there was a wooden bridge. Where would you get a causeway like that going to a private house?”

Coffee and conversation are flowing. “The Yanks stayed here during the War. The trees down the driveway are all big trees but you come to a place that is nice and flat and they’re very small trees. The Americans cut the trees down and brought aeroplanes into that field there. They took over this whole farm too. There’s a strip out there for the planes to land. There was a load of Nissan huts round the back. They’re all gone now. The Annesleys bought this place for £12,000 I would say shortly after the War. They built the bathroom extension in the 70s. It’s block not stone. The buildings behind the house are the Coach House, Middle Barn, Piggeries and Woodworker’s Barn. The one roomed Bothy was the gamekeeper’s house.”

Ned ends, “Brunel designed SS Great Britain and it ran aground in Dundrum Bay in 1846. The captain got drunk and ran it straight into the sand bar. Brunel came over and stayed in the Downshire Arms Hotel for about a year. He orchestrated strapping the ship and hacking it up to get it seaworthy again. SS Great Britain was the first iron hulled screw propelled steamship.”

Peeling ourselves away from Murlough Country House, we wend our way into Dundrum, the gourmet capital of South County Down. Thrice. Colour seeps into Irish village architecture and Dundrum is no exception. Lunch is in Mourne Seafood Bar (the exterior is painted duck egg blue on the ground floor, goose grey on the upper floors and the northeast wing is sorbet yellow). Dinner in The Buck’s Head (painted olive green). Drinks in The Dundrum Inn (pineapple yellow and blackcurrant purple). The striking house with a gable clock and weathervane opposite Mourne Seafood Bar is salmon pink. Next morning coffee is in Cúpla with its damson blue signage – its name comes from the Irish for twins after Dominque and Shane Gibben who own the café.

But first there’s a visit to Dundrum Coastal Rowing Club. Andrew Boyd and Robert Graham proudly show off two boats they’ve built: Danny Buoy and Mystic Wave. “It started off as a community project to reconnect people round this coastline with our boat building heritage,” explains Robert. Traditional St Ayles skiffs were built by locals along the County Down coast from Donaghadee to Dundrum. “It took us six months to build Danny Buoy. We finished it the night before the 2016 Skiff World Championship Rowing Race. We just got it out into the bay to give it a test that it floated and then went straight into the race and won! We generated lots of interest and so we ordered the second kit and built Mystic Wave.”

Andrew is the founder of Kilmegan Cider. He relates, “I started about a mile away from Dundrum. It was my parents’ orchard and every year when we were younger we had to gather up the apples and store them in boxes. Waste not! We’d make a wee bit of apple wine and there was one year I went down and all the apples were lying on the ground. The fieldfares and redwings were having a field day. I decided to try a batch of cider with an old winepress. So it started as a hobby and grew from there. I registered it in 2014.” Kilmegan Cider has been winning national and international awards ever since.

It’s time for lunch in Mourne Seafood Bar which is in the former Downshire Arms Hotel, a grand three storey building dominating Main Street. Owner Chris McCann joins us. “Bob McCoubrey launched Mourne Seafood Bar in Dundrum in 2005 and in Belfast a year later. We took over the Dundrum restaurant seven years ago. Chris Wayne is our Head Chef. We stick to what the brand is – it’s in the name – and just have one meat dish on our menu. Our mussels come from Strangford Lough. Our oysters come from Carlingford – they have a sweetness and there’s a consistency of quality and supply. Wednesday night is lobster night. We’ve 10 guest bedrooms too.”

Samphire, known as ‘sea asparagus’, is a popular garnish foraged from Murlough Beach. Nowhere in Ireland is further than 85 kilometres from the coast. In Dundrum, make that one kilometre. Reisling served has the surprising label ‘Donaghadee’: the German winemaker married a County Down lass. Platters arrive – this is tasting on an epic scale! Cracked crab claws, langoustines and mignonette oysters. We devour the entire starters menu.

“All our food is farm or sea to plate,” welcomes Bronagh McCormick who took over The Buck’s Head with her business partner Head Chef Alex Greene in April 2024. He’s a regular on the TV programme Great British Menu. The pub was built in 1834. She records, “We’ve 75 covers in our dining room and we’re opening rooms for guests to stay over. We’re kept pretty busy with dinner reservations at least four weeks in advance.” Wheaten bread made with treacle sums up the menu: local with a twist. Pan roast salmon with gnocchi and charred broccoli continues the Dundrumesque seafood theme. Alex tells us later they also own the Fish and Farm Shop in nearby Newcastle. They’re custodians of produce.

“There’s nothing we’re not trying and there’s nothing we’re not doing,” Alex shares over coffee and cakes in Cúpla. “It’s very much an evolving product. We’ve a lot of repeat business, especially on a Sunday. We run Sunday lunch up to 7pm. We’ll add a couple more vegetarian options but if you put too many dishes on the menu the quality starts to drop. It’s better selling 30 of one dish in a day than three of 100. But you don’t want to make the menu too small either with not enough choice for people. Our meat mostly comes from my family farm three miles up the road.”

The Dundrum Inn, a few doors down from The Buck’s Head, is the perfect place to pull a late night Guinness and order a nightcap (make that a round of Kilmegan Ciders) in the large beer garden while being entertained by live music. The Dundrum Inn has been going for 190 years so far and is still a social hub. “Dundrum Village Association organises the Summer Festival,” says Community Leader Alan Cooley. “It brings everyone together. Food stalls, bands, circus performers and a raft race fill a Saturday each July.”

“Let’s go out on our boat!” is a thrilling suggestion by our hosts upon leaving Cúpla. Soon we’re riding the waves fantastic. Leaving behind Dundrum Bay to enter the Irish Sea, looking back, the castle has vanished under a cloud and gradually landmass fades to grey and disappears. Splash, crash, splash, crash! We’re now in the midst of the vast grey sea which has merged with the vast grey sky. There’s no horizon; everything’s grey. A grey seal swims by giving us side eye.

We recall Andrew Boyd telling us, “When you get the high tide running out of the bay and you have a bit of a southerly wind, there’s a roar of the sea known as Tonn Ruairí. This is the ‘Wave of Rory’ named after a Viking who drowned in Dundrum Bay from the forces of a mystic wave. It makes a crashing roaring sound. As much as the sea round here is beautiful you need to respect it.”

Brian de Breffny, writing in Castles of Ireland, 1977, breaks away from conventional architectural historian mode to wax lyrical, “Something of Dundrum’s distant Celtic past seems to cling mysteriously to the castle and its wooded hillside. Perhaps more than any other place in Ireland, it suggests too the world of the Norman adventurers and mercenaries – conquerors and Crusaders who fortified a castle in Ulster and talked there of the palace castles of the Seleucid rulers they had seen in the East – the world of the overmighty barons and Plantagenet kings.” Almost half a century later, his words still ring true.

There was a sense of crossing a border when we went over that triple arched causeway for the first time … we’d crossed a line into a slight otherness. And when Murlough Country House appeared, there was a sensation of arrival, of distant belonging. We would succumb to the enchantment of days spent passed in South County Down. Later, much later, unfurling thoughts and images of Dundrum, we realise anew it’s a place to experience the serious business of joy. And to parrot Clive Staples Lewis, “We meet no ordinary people in our lives.” And visit no ordinary places.

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Architects Architecture Art Country Houses Design Developers Fashion Luxury People Restaurants

Dorinda The Honourable Lady Dunleath + Killyvolgan House Ballywalter Down

Life and Times

Dorinda loved discussing the many Irish country houses she knew well. “I could write a book about my experiences in country houses. Maybe you should for me!” One of her earliest memories was visiting her uncle and aunt, Major Charlie and Sylvia Alexander, at the now demolished Pomeroy House in County Tyrone. Dorinda also enjoyed visiting Springhill in County Londonderry (now owned by The National Trust) – she was married from there in 1959. There was a painting of Springhill in the sitting room of Killyvolgan House. It was her Great Aunt Mina’s home. Mina Lenox-Conyngham was the last owner of Springhill. “Staying at her house was always enormous fun.”

“I remember aged six being taken against my will to dancing lessons at Lissan House. It was absolutely freezing! I lay on the ground screaming and kicking my feet in the air. Such a dull house, don’t you think?” She was great pals with Diana Pollock of Mountainstown House in County Meath and recalled good times there with Diana and her sisters. “I could never love Mount Stewart. Dundarave has an interesting vast hall but the reception rooms are plain. I remember the auction of Mount Panther’s contents. Everyone was standing in the entrance hall and up the stairs when the staircase started coming away from the wall! Cousin Captain Bush lived in Drumhalla House near Rathmullan in Donegal. He’d a parrot and wore a wig. I remember he threw his wig off when he went swimming in the cove end of the garden. I was absolutely terrified to jump in after him!”

One of Dorinda’s most memorable stories combines several of her loves: country houses, fashion and parties. “It was the Sixties and I had just bought a rather fashionable tin foil dress from a catalogue. I thought it would be perfect for Lady Mairi Bury’s party at Mount Stewart. It was so tight and I was scared of ripping it so I lay down on our bedroom floor, arms stretched out in front of me, and Henry slid me into it.” She gave a demonstration, laughing. “Unfortunately I stood too near one of the open fires and my dress got hotter and hotter. I thought I was going to go up in smoke! So that was the first and last time I wore it!” Dorinda always managed to look stylish, whether casual or formal. Her suits were the envy of fellow Trustees of the Board of Historic Buildings Trust. Her ‘off duty’ uniform of polo neck, sports jacket, jeans and boyish shoes was effortlessly chic.

When it came to finding her own country house after her tenure at Ballywalter Park ended, things proved challenging. “I searched for two years for a suitable property. There’s a country house for sale in Keady. Nobody lives there! I’d be driving up and down to Belfast non stop!” Eventually Dorinda would build her own house on a site just beyond the walled estate of Ballywalter Park. At first, she wanted to rebuild the double pile gable ended two storey three bay house occupying the site called McKee’s Farm but when the structure proved unstable, a new house was conceived. Despite being known as a modernist, Belfast architect Joe Fitzgerald was selected to design a replacement house of similar massing to McKee’s Farm, adding single storey wings in Palladian style. Like its owner, Killyvolgan House is understated, elegant and charming. She was pleased when the council planners described Killyvolgan as the ideal new house in the countryside. It displays a distinguished handling of proportion and lightness of touch.

“I bought the Georgian grandfather clock in the entrance hall from Dublin. I’m always slightly concerned at how fragile my papier mâché chairs are for ‘larger guests’ in the drawing room. I guess the chairs were really meant for a bedroom? I’ve painted all the walls in the house white as the shadows on them help me see around.” And then there was the urn in the courtyard. “The Coade stone urn I found in the 19th century barn was much too grand. So instead I bought this cast iron urn on the King’s Road in Belfast. Fine, I will leave the Marston and Langinger pot you have brought me in the urn so that I remember that colour. Oh, Farrow and Ball are very smart! They’re very clever at their marketing.” In the end, the much debated urn would remain unpainted. “Henry wouldn’t deal with snobs. That’s why I liked him. Henry took everything he got involved in very seriously. Henry was the only Alliance Party member in the House of Lords. He strongly promoted the Education (Northern Ireland) Act 1974 which provided greater parity across the sectarian divide.” Later, “Oh how exciting, is it full of good restaurants and bars? Great! I’ll be an authority now on Ballyhackamore.”

She recalled an early drama at The Park. It was a tranquil Sunday morning in 1973 and unusually Dorinda was at home rather than at Holy Trinity Church Ballywalter. “Henry was singing the 23rd Psalm at Eucharist when he heard six fire brigades go by. Poor people, he pitied. I’d warned our butler not to interfere with the gas cylinders of the boiler, but he did, and the whole thing exploded, lifting off the dome of the Staircase Hall like a pressure cooker. The Billiard Room disappeared under a billow of smoke and flames. I rang the fire brigade and said, ‘Come quickly! There’s a fire at Ballywalter Park!’ The operator replied, ‘Yes, madam, but what number in Ballywalter Park?’” The estate of course doesn’t have a number – although it does have its own postcode.

“A spare room full of china collections fell through the roof. Well, I guess I’d always wanted to do an archaeological dig! It was so sad, really. As well as the six fire brigades, 300 people gathered from the village and around to help lift furniture onto the lawn. Fortunately the dome didn’t crack. Isn’t life stranger than fiction? The Powerscourt fire happened just one year later. Henry was philosophical and said we can build a replacement house in the walled garden.” In the end the couple would be responsible for restoring the house to its lasting glory. Ballywalter Park is a mid 19th century architectural marvel designed by Sir Charles Lanyon.

“I arrived over from London as a young wife and suddenly had to manage 12 servants. I used to tiptoe around so as not to disturb them. There was a crazy crew in the kitchen. Mrs Clarke was the cook. Billy Clarke, the scatty elderly butler, mostly sat smoking. Mrs Clarke couldn’t cook unless he was there. I was too shy to say anything!” Dorinda once briefly dated Tony Armstrong-Jones who would become the society photographer Lord Snowdon. “We met at pony club. He got me to model sitting next to a pond at our house in Widford, Hertfordshire.” One book described Dorinda as being “very pretty”. When questioned, she replied, “Well, quite pretty!” She was more interested in her time bookbinding for The Red Cross. In those days The Bunch of Grapes in Knightsbridge was Dorinda’s local. “Browns Hotel and The Goring were ‘safe’ for debutantes. After we got married we went to the State Opening of Parliament. We stayed in Henry’s club and I haled a taxi wearing a tiara and evening dress. Harrods was once full of people one would know. We would know people there. ‘Do you live near Harrods?’ people would ask. I’ve heard everyone now lives southwest down the river, near the boat races. You need some luck and then you’ve just got to make your own way having fun in London.”

As ever with Dorinda there were always more great stories to relate. “I bought the two paintings from the School of Van Dyke in my dining room for £40. I knew they were rather good landscapes so I decided to talk to Anthony Blunt about them. We arranged to meet in The Courtauld for lunch. Halfway though our meal he disappeared for a phone call. He was probably waiting for a message, ‘Go to the second tree on the left!’ He never reappeared. Next thing I heard he was a spy and had gone missing! I think he turned up in Moscow. I’ll remember other interesting things when you’re gone.” Occasionally colloquialisms would slip into her polite conversation. “The funeral was bunged! He’s completely mustard! She’s a pill!” One of Dorinda’s catchphrases, always expressed with glee, was, “That’s rather wild!”

“I called up to The Park. It was so funny: for the first time in history there were three Lady Dunleaths including me all sitting chatting on a sofa! One lives in The Park; the other, King’s Road and I don’t mean Belfast!” Dorinda made steeple chasing sound so riveting. A dedicated rider and breeder, she was Chairman of the Half Bred Horse Breeders Society. The Baroness’s contribution to Northern Irish culture and society is unsurpassed. She was Patron of the Northern Ireland Chest Stroke and Heart Association and the Northern Ireland Council for Integrated Education, as well as being a Committee Member of the Royal Ulster Agricultural Society. Dorinda was a Director of the Ulster Orchestra and a founding member of the National Trust in Northern Ireland and the Ulster Architectural Heritage Society. Along with Sir Charles Brett she laboriously carried out and published early ‘Listings’ of buildings in places such as Downpatrick, Dungannon and Lisburn. The Baroness’s legacy lives on in the Dorinda Lady Dunleath Charitable Trust. This charity was started by her late husband but after he died it was changed into Dorinda’s name and she added to it every year thereafter. It supports education; healthcare and medical research; the arts, culture, heritage and science; the environment; alleviating poverty; and advancement of the Christian faith. The Dorinda Lady Dunleath Charitable Trust continues to donate to charities that she would have liked, with a focus on Northern Ireland.

One of the last heritage projects Dorinda supported was the restoration and rejuvenation of Portaferry Presbyterian Church, not far from Ballywalter. It’s one of the best Greek Revival buildings in the United Kingdom. “Prince Charles came to the reopening. I curtsied so low I could barely stand up again! Afterwards, a few of us had a very grand supper at Ikea to celebrate!” She voiced concern about the future of the organ at Down Cathedral. Music in May at Ballywalter Park was an annual festival of organ music started by the newlyweds. The Dunleath Organ Scholarship Trust was set up by her late husband and she continued to support it for the rest of her life, attending its concerts each year.

“It’s so exciting… I can’t say how exciting it is you’re here! Tell me, who is this David Bowie everyone’s talking about? I feel like I’m about 100! It’s like when my father asked me, ‘Who is this Bing Crosby?’ The House of Lords used to be full of country specialists like experts in bees or men who loved linen. They used to give the most marvellous speeches. Each generation must do something. It would be great to write this down.” Later, “Gardens should have vistas, don’t you think? They need focal points; you need to walk for an hour to a place of discovery. Capability Brown and Repton knew how to do it.”

In latter years, there were memorable times to be had at The Wildfowler Inn, Greyabbey. Those long, languid lunches. “Portavogie scampi? I’ll have the same as you. And a glass of white wine please. We can have sticky toffee pudding after.” Dorinda would don her yellow high viz jacket, pulling the distinctive look off with considerable aplomb. Her eyesight failing, she would claim, “It helps people see me in Tesco in Newtownards!” Much later, balmy summer afternoons in the sheltered courtyard of Killyvolgan House would stretch long into the evening. There was Darjeeling and more laughter. Those were the days. Halcyon days by the shore. Days that will linger forever. On that last evening at Killyvolgan, Dorinda pondered, “Is there anyone left who cares about architectural heritage?”

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Architecture Country Houses

Lavender’s Blue + Castle ffrench Galway

Fortissimo

Anglicisation from Gaelic is to blame in some instances (The Argory is a case in point) but quite a few Irish country houses have intriguing names. Jockey Hall and Shandy Hall (the latter in Dripsey) sound fun. Whiskey Hall sounds like too much fun. Bachelors Lodge and Hymenstown are presumably miles apart. Mount Anne or Mount Stewart anyone? The mildly unnerving Flood Hall, Fort Etna, Spiddal Hall and The Reeks. Is Sherlockstown worth investigating? Zoomorphic zaniness: Fox Hall, Lizard Manor, Lyons, Mount Panther and Roebuck Hall. Elphin – Castle? Place names too. Bungalo begs the question: is it full of single storey residences?

Lots of houses without so much as a battlement are called castles: Beltrim Castle, Castle Coole, Castle Grove, Castle Leslie. Castle ffrench joins this list although there are ruins of a tower house on the estate. The double consonant lower case doesn’t disguise the fact the name originated somewhat unsurprisingly in France. The ffrench family were part of a Norman landing in County Wexford in 1169. In time, they became one of the 14 Tribes of Galway. Their single consonant upper class case cousins owned French Park in County Roscommon.

Castle ffrench is a star of Maurice Craig’s seminal work Classic Irish Houses of the Middle Size. He notes its plan is virtually identical to Bonnettstown’s in County Kilkenny, despite the 90 mile 40 year gap. A notable feature of both pretty Big Houses is the pair of staircases side by side, like slightly asymmetric Siamese twins. A thin wall between the pair once segregated the classes’ ascent and descent (for richer, for poorer). One is dressed in plasterwork; the other bare. Landings pressed against the four bay rear elevation provide interesting mid storey variations in window positions. Both stairwells are lit by tall fanlight topped windows identical on the outside – only the family one has internal panelling.

The front elevation is more conventional, the grouped middle three bays of a five bay composition gently projecting. Urns and finials sprouting from a solid parapet dot the horizon. A three storey over basement (hidden to the front | semi exposed to the sides | for all to see to the rear) limestone block, this house is the epitome of Irish Georgian style. It even has an archetypal fanlight set in the entablatured triglyphed pilastered fluted rosetted doorcase. Conservation architect John O’Connell calls the building “very accomplished” and recognises the influence of the architect Richard Castle. A niche in the entrance hall is marginally unaligned with the ceiling plasterwork above. A signal that the house is the work of a builder with a pattern book or two at his disposal? Or simply plastered on a Friday afternoon?

Castle ffrench rises above an unruffled patchwork quilt, a landscape of interlocking greens, quieter than Pimlico Tube Station on a Friday evening (are Pimlocals like Peter York too posh to push onto public transport?). So silent. Rural aural aura. Within the vale beyond The Pale. A mile long drive and 40 acres keep the populace at bay. Augustine days of yore aren’t so distant… Indoors, there’s a hooley! The plasterwork, at any rate. The stuccodores’ genius charges towards zenithsphere in the entrance hall and landing (of the family staircase). Neoclassicism and rococo blend and blur in mesmerising jigs and reels of fables and foliage ribboned round Irish harps and ffrench French horns. Wreathes and sheaves and sickles, the whole shebang.

Lady Fifi ffrench (stutteringly fitting phonetics or what?) and her husband John were the last of the original family to reside at Castle ffrench. Sheila and Bill Bagliani, the current owners, have sensitively restored this knockout property, subtly preserving its patina of age. Bertie the Labrador and Sally the Westie run amok through the grounds. Sheila, a talented artist, has a top floor studio to kill for. No really. All stairs lead to a second floor central corridor spanning the full width of the house. This corridor might not have the ornate plasterwork of the spaces below but it’s very much defined by a series of blind and open arches like abstract vaulting. A forerunner to Sir John Soane’s streamlined style. At one end, a door opens into a softly lit corner room with views to die for. There are flowers and canvases and a ghost – a previous owner refuses to leave and who could blame her? – in the attic.

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Architects Architecture Art Country Houses Design People

Lavender’s Blue + Russborough Blessington Wicklow

Architecture in Harmony

1 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

A rondo is a piece of music in which the main theme keeps recurring between different episodes. Antonio Diabelli’s Rondino was written for the piano in the 18th century. Essentially a ternary or three element form, two repeats elongate this rondo into a five part composition. It opens in mezzo piano, rising through a crescendo then a forte section, before softening through a diminuendo back to mezzo piano.

2 Russborough Houssse Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Rondino is typical of the classical era of the arts. It is symmetrical with a regular rhythm set in harmonised yet contrasting elements strung out and repeated. Articulated notions of Beauty, the Sublime and the Picturesque underscore the symbolic sensibilities of the piece. This is a work from a maestro at the height of his creative gamesmanship.

3 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

The same could be said of Russborough, an Irish neoclassical house designed by the Richard Castle. The Palladian ideal of dressing up a farm axially to incorporate the house and ancillary buildings into one architectural composition flourished in 18th century Ireland, especially under German born virtuoso architect.

4 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

The central block of Russborough is seven bays wide by two storeys tall over basement. Bent arcades link two identical lower seven bay two storey wings. This five part superfaçade is constructed of silvery grey granite. Straight retaining walls extend from the wings to terminate in gateways at either extremity, like encores. Little wonder Johann von Goethe called architecture “frozen music”.

5 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Awesome, yes. But it combined form with function from an 18th century perspective. One wing contained the servants’ quarters and kitchen; the other, the stables. The two gateways led to the separate stable yard farmyard. In the central block, the high ceilinged piano nobile was used for public entertaining. The low ceilinged first floor was for private family use. The basement housed vaulted wine cellars and yet more servants’ accommodation.

6 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Such is the genius of the place, and its architect, that this arrangement has adapted well in subsequent centuries. When Sir Alfred and Lady Beit flung open their doors to the great unwashed in 1978, a neo Georgian single storey visitors’ centre was neatly inserted behind the eastern colonnade. The west wing was restored in 2012 and discreetly converted into a Landmark Trust holiday let.

7 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

The Beit Foundation has ensured the survival of Russborough despite no less than four art robberies from an ungrateful element of the recipient nation. This is no picnic in a foreign land. A tour guide as graceful as Audrey Hepburn glides through the echoing halls and velvety staterooms; the latter, counterpoints in texture to the stony exterior. Not so, other Irish country houses. Carton, Dunboyne Castle and Farnham just outside Dublin were converted into boom time hotels with varying degrees of success. Uncertainty lies over the fate of Glin Castle in County Limerick and Mountainstown House in County Meath, both for sale in an unstable market. Worst of all, Ballymacool (County Donegal), Castle Dillon (County Armagh) and Mount Panther (County Down) lie in ruins, home to wandering sheep and ghosts.

8 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Contemporary composer Karl Jenkins has brought Palladio back to the forefront of orchestral music. Literally. Inspired by the 16th century Italian architect, Palladio is a three movement piece for strings. Completed in 1996, Karl was influenced by Palladian mathematical proportionality in his quest for musical perfection.

9 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Palladio’s pursuit of perfect proportions can be traced back to the Vitruvian model of ‘man as a measure for all things’. He reinterpreted the architectural treatise of Vitruvius, a 1st century Roman architect, for a new audience. Vitruvius believed symmetry and proportion created a harmonic relationship with individual components and their whole, either in music or architecture. He developed ratios based on the human body which were later used by 18th century composers. Michelangelo’s Vitruvian Man illustrates the concept.

10 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Like other Roman architects, Vitruvius revered the work of Ancient Greek scholars. Their macro theses argued that the entire cosmos vibrates to the same harmonies audible in music. Pythagorean formulae quantified the relationship of architecture, music and the human form. Even the cyclical nature of the resurgence of classicism, skipping generations like beats, only to be revived in repetition and reinterpretation, has balance and form.

11 Russborough House Blessington © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

Categories
People Town Houses

Ely House Dublin + The Order of the Knights of St Columbanus

Bram’s Lullaby

1 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Lavender’s Blue visit one of Dublin’s grandest and most historic houses. Following a herculean £5 million restoration, Ely House has never looked better, adapted and ready for its fourth century of continuous use. Now that’s what we call sustainable development. Back in 1771 when the house was built, Dublin’s population had quadrupled in a matter of decades making it the seventh largest city in Europe. Still smaller than the modern day London Borough of Wandsworth. The Wide Streets Commission of 1757 paved the road (no pun) for the development of streets and squares. Now that’s what we call town planning. Building leases on plots dictated height, mostly four storeys over basement, and often even each storey height. A pleasing uniformity was the outcome.

2 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Exteriors are typically devoid of ornament, relying on quality of brick and pleasing proportion of wall-to-window ratios for their beauty. Except of course for what have become known as the famous Dublin doors. Extraordinary zest was invested into creating eye catching arrangements of heavily panelled doors, lead paned sidelights and semicircular fanlights. Wrought iron railings and balconies are the only other relieving features. This architectural restraint makes the explosion of exuberant interior plasterwork all the more stimulating. And if you think the recent boom was party time, it doesn’t hold a (Georgian) candle to the shenanigans our bewigged predecessors got up to in these ornate settings.

3 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Chronicler Mrs Delaney, the Lavender’s Blue of her day, recorded one of her meals, “First Course: soup, rabbits and onions, veal, turkey pout, salmon grilde [sic]. Second Course: pickled salmon, quails, little terrene peas, cream, mushrooms, apple pye [sic], crab, leveret, cheese cake. Dessert: blancmange, cherries, Dutch cheese, raspberries and creams, sweetmeats and jelly, strawberries and cream, almond cream, currants, gooseberries and orange butter,” [sick]. Potatoes are not mentioned because they were not considered part of a set ‘dish’; they were handed round. Vast quantities of wine, chiefly claret but also port, accompanied the food. In The Four Georges, Thackeray writes, “Singing after dinner and supper was the universal fashion of the day. You may fancy all the dining rooms sounding with choruses, some ribald, some harmless, but all occasioning the consumption of a prodigious deal of fermented liquor.”

4 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Built by Henry Loftus, Earl of Ely, Ely House on Ely Place opposite Ely Wine Bar faces down Hume Street towards St Stephen’s Green. It spans the full width of Hume Street and true to form is four storeys over basement with particularly elegant wrought iron railings, balconies and even lamp standards. A parapet partly conceals the roof. But where most Georgian Dublin houses are three bay, Ely House is a full gloriously greedy seven. Red brick from Bridgewater, Somerset, was an inspired choice of material. The Loftus family seat was Rathfarnham Castle, south of Dublin city centre. Their townhouse, or rather town-mansion, was a fulcrum of 18th century social life. Michael Stapleton, the fashionable stuccadore, was commissioned to undertake the interior plasterwork.

5 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

6 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Stucco acanthus fronds, acorns, arrows, bay leaves, bows, brackets, cherubs, consoles, corbels, cornices, festoons, friezes, helmets, medallions, panels, plaques, putti, quadrants, quatrefoils, ribbons, roses, rosettes, scrolls, shells, swags and two turtle doves await us. There are more fireplaces than the Lassco Summer Sale. Cararra marble, Sienna marble, oak, take your pick. In fact somebody nearly did. Just before we arrived a wannabe thief tried to make off with one. Both outside and in, Ely House is a template of grand Georgian design and layout. Beyond the Doric Palladian doorcase is a squarish outer hall. Sedan chairs would once have been parked on the stone flagged floor. A dentilled cornice is a subtle hint of the plasterwork to come. On one side of the outer hall, the morning room, now an oratory, is equally serene with windows overlooking Ely Place. But on the other side, the dining room shows Stapleton in full flow. As the panelled window shutters are pulled back, the soft Irish light casts shadows across the moulded walls and ceilings in all their glory. The dining room is painted Mount Panther blue, highlighting Stapleton’s three dimensional wonders.

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Straight ahead of the entrance door, the outer hall leads into the inner hall; what a spectacle! Behold Dublin’s finest staircase, raising the functional to the fantastical. Here is the first clue, all six feet of it, that Stapleton or possibly Loftus was a fan of ancient classical mythology. A statue of Hercules, carved out of the same Portland stone as the three flights of stairs, acts as a human sized newel post. Under a mahogany handrail and below small lead medallions and squiggles, groupings of plant-like wrought iron balusters alternate with giltwood figures representing the Labours of Hercules. In ascending order are the Erymanthian boar; the Stymphalian bird; the Nemean lion; another Stymphalian bird; the Cretan bull; the Arcadian stag; and the three headed dog Cerberus. The staircase basks in natural light from a Palladian window framed by Corinthian pilasters. An obligatory secondary staircase, connecting the basement to the top floor and all levels between, is a marvellous counterfoil to the main staircase. It’s an essay in refined understatement with plain timber balusters.

8 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

The first floor is laid out with typical 18th century taste. An enfilade along the front of the house is formed by a reception room on either side of an anteroom. In this instance the anteroom is a single bay music room. One of the decorative plasterwork roundels on the wall is hollow to improve acoustics. The Pillar Room was once known as the Attic Theatre. This space was created by the Earl’s widow. When Henry Loftus died in 1783 his young widow, the girl about town Dowager Countess, threw together two rooms to make a theatre. Ionic columns and pilasters support the ceiling of the enlarged space. The muted colours of the drawing room allow the plasterwork to do the talking. Romulus and Remus appear with the wolf in the central marble relief of the mantelpiece.

9 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Ely House was the home of Sir William Thornley Stoker from 1890 to 1911. His brother Abraham (Bram) Stoker was author of Dracula. Since the 1920s the house has been the headquarters of the Order of the Knights of St Columbanus. This Order was founded in Belfast by James K O’Neill to promote Catholic faith and education. His experience as the priest of an inner city parish led him to believe that intelligently applied Catholic principles would remedy social ills and permeate society with the charity of Christ. This was the basis of the programme of study which continues to underpin the Knights’ endeavours. Canon O’Neill died in 1922. Mid 20th century offices built in the rear garden provide a source of income for the Order. It’s not many buildings that over the course of their history have housed a raucous aristocrat, religious order, a Thai restaurant (the previous use of the Knights’ members’ room in the basement) and hosted a gothic horror writer. Now that’s what we call provenance.

10 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com