One Irish Summer

by William Eleroy Curtis

Before I left Washington a highly esteemed friend, and one of the most charitable and public-spirited citizens of that city, intrusted me with a mission which was fulfilled as soon as possible after arriving in Limerick. It was to leave with the parish priest of his native village of Askeaton a generous sum of money for the benefit of the poor, and you may imagine the pleasure that attended our visit there for that reason. Askeaton is an ancient village of seven or eight hundred inhabitants about twenty miles from Limerick, where the River Deel tumbles over ledges of rocks into the Shannon and forms a series of cascades, which make it the second best water-power in Ireland and perpetuates the name of a Celtic chieftain, concerning whom nothing else is known.

We went down in an automobile, visiting several other places of interest by the way, passing Donmore, the seat of the Earl of Limerick, an ancient ruin in which a holy hermit lived several centuries ago, Dysart House, the seat of the Earl of Dysart, and a beautiful place called Holly Park, where resided a queer man by the name of Taylor. He inherited a fine farm and considerable wealth, but lived a bachelor until he was sixty years old, when he married his cook. There was nothing wrong with him except a mania for buying coats, and he used to haunt the second-hand stores of Limerick, Dublin, London, and wherever else he happened to go, picking up all the queer patterns and colors that he could find. He spent most of his time brushing and cataloguing them, and when he died last spring more than five thousand coats were found hanging on racks in the upper rooms and the attic of Holly Park. It took three big wagons to carry them away, for his wife, the former cook, got rid of them as soon after the funeral as she could arrange for.

Askeaton used to be a place of some importance, and at one time returned two members of parliament, but it has lost population and trade, and many years ago the franchise was taken away and the sum of $75,000 was paid as indemnity to Lord Massey, who controlled the suffrages. It isn’t far from the sea and there is a good deal of fishing, although agriculture is its chief dependence. There is a carbite factory owned by John B. Hewson, and a big flour mill, which, however, is idle because the people find it cheaper to buy American flour. The farmers here cannot compete with California wheat. They told me that it is more profitable to raise potatoes for market and turnips for cattle.

Askeaton has one irregular street and old-fashioned houses of brick and mortar, hugging closely to the walls of an ancient castle which was the stronghold of the earls of Desmond and the scene of much fighting in ancient times. It is one of the largest ruins in Ireland, a monstrous pile covering more than two acres, and the walls of stone, now standing, are more than ninety feet high and ten to fifteen feet thick. The great hall measures ninety by thirty feet and is lighted by four great windows in a fair state of preservation. Over the first arch from the stairway is a small chamber measuring eight by seven feet, called “Desmond’s prison,” in which Gerald, the twelfth Earl of Desmond, imprisoned by Edmond MacTeig, who contested his succession, “for six years pined in captivity, shut up in the castle of Askeaton, till his release, which was obtained by the intercession of his wife, who was related to Edmond.” A battlemented wall surrounds the entire structure, which could be entered only by a narrow pathway cut through the rock so that any attempt to force an entrance would be impossible.

Askeaton Abbey, which was founded under the protection of the castle for the Franciscan monks in 1420, by the seventh Earl of Desmond, is only a few steps distant, and, judging from the huge masses of masonry, it must have been an extensive and solid structure. Some of the walls are twenty feet thick and the lightest are four feet and a half thick. It is kept with great care by the board of public works and the cloister is remarkably perfect, being inclosed by twelve pointed arches of black marble. It was destroyed at the same time as the castle, and many of the monks were murdered by the Irish troops under the Earl of Ormonde and Sir Henry Pelham. In 1641 an attempt was made to restore the abbey to its former magnificence, but it was abandoned shortly afterward.

The parish church, which stands upon a hill on the edge of the village, was built by the Knights Templar, who had an establishment at Askeaton dating from the thirteenth century, but nothing remains of it now but a curious tower in the churchyard.

With Sergeant Quirk, the head constable, we inspected the ruins under the very best auspices, and I found Father Edmond Tracy, the parish priest, a most charming companion. He is an ideal type of the Irish priesthood, a man of culture, learning, and charming personality. He accepted the trust I was instructed to place in his care and told me that, although Askeaton was fairly prosperous and the people of the neighborhood parish were well to do, he frequently had appeals for charity that the scanty revenues of the church made difficult for him to respond to.

Upon our way back to Limerick we stopped at Adare, which is considered the model village and belongs to the Earl of Dunraven, who has the enviable reputation of being one of the best landlords in Ireland. The village of Adare has about six hundred people living in model cottages, which he and his father built for them, with vegetable and flower gardens and everything that an Irish peasant could ask for, including both Roman Catholic and Protestant churches. The former was once “The White Abbey,” founded by the Augustinians in 1230 and restored by the Earl of Dunraven in 1811 with great care. A portion of the monastery has been rebuilt for a national school and given to the Roman Catholics. The neighboring Franciscan Abbey, founded in 1315, was restored for use as the Protestant church in 1807. The Earl of Dunraven who lived in those days built a family mausoleum in connection with it, and turned the refectory of the monks into a schoolhouse for Protestant children. Although the earls of Dunraven have been members of the Church of Ireland, they have been generous and frequent benefactors of the Roman Catholic church, and there seem to have been successive generations of wise, thoughtful, and considerate men in that family.