With an astounding view of Killiney Bay in Dublin, the renowned Abbey Lea (initially known as Marino) is featured in a book tied to an expansive historical timeline that spans numerous generations. This grand piece of real estate, which has played a considerable role in historical events, became the dwelling of the Australian ambassador to Ireland in 1965. Co-written by the wife of the current ambassador, Gary Gray, Pippa McIntosh, ‘Abbey Lea: A Killiney History’ (retailing at €65), offers a fascinating journey into the past, as the couple has taken up residence since the summer of 2020.
Records revealing the existence of a house at the location proceed back to the beginning of the 19th century. The narrative escorts readers through the chronicles of the home’s previous proprietors. In 1909, the current stylish edifice reflecting elements of Arts and Crafts was reconstructed by Laurence Ambrose Waldron. Waldron, not just excelled as an art enthusiast and a stockbroker but was also known for his bent towards nationalism as an MP, leading a vibrant existence. His guest list comprised of well-known individuals from the realms of culture, politics, and art. The book’s focus is the pivotal contribution the house made toward the evolution of Harry Clarke’s art form with references from folklore and literature. It highlights Waldron’s deep admiration for Clarke’s work, including the intricate designs that embellished both his Killiney residence and his workplace in Anglesea Street with stained-glass windows, lanterns, miniature panels, and an ornately decorated family crest and bookplate.
Post Waldron’s demise, Sir Robert Woods, a Dublin University MP and surgeon known for his collection of paintings and antique furniture, acquired the house in 1924 and his lineage occupied it for the following quarter-century. In 1950, Lady Joyce Talbot de Malahide purchased the house which she subsequently renamed as Abbey Lea. McIntosh’s comprehensive research for the book included numerous archives such as libraries, newspapers, old charts, personal diaries, family scribblings, and memoirs along with websites. The author intermingles history with architecture, literary culture, and personal tales to create a pleasing volume that will serve as an invaluable treasure trove for future historians.
Hardiman & Beyond: The Arts & Culture of Galway since 1820 (Arden, €45) is a vivid exploration of Galway’s rich arts and culture over the past two centuries. Edited by John Cunningham and Ciaran McDonough, this extensive volume begins in 1820 with the significant works of famous antiquarian and first librarian of the University of Galway Library, James Hardiman. It presents a sweeping journey through Galway’s cultural heritage in a series of 39 insightful chapters.
Themes running through the book cover a rich tapestry of literature, music, theatre, linguistics, dance, and architecture, with special emphasis on the unique cultural spirit of the Galway festival. One such engaging narrative, penned by Anna Falkenau, reveals the history of the city’s traditional music scene between 1960 and 1979. The lively picture of Shop Street brimming with buskers and music-filled pub sessions shows how Galway became Ireland’s prime city for traditional music.
Intriguing anecdotes include a 1963 incident where an unknown American artist named Paul Simon played his guitar at Galway’s Fo’Castle Folk Club, but failed to impress the locals.
The book encapsulates the essence of Galway with biographical sketches of notable figures like Nora Barnacle Joyce, Pádraic Ó Conaire, Máirtín Ó Direáin, Walter Macken, Patricia Burke Brogan among others. Beyond the text, the work is visually enriched by 200 artistic illustrations, photos, and maps, offering the reader a unique and highly creative insight into the very soul of Galway.
In honour of its bicentennial, Cultivating a Love for Knowledge: Two Hundred Years of the Belfast Natural History and Philosophical Society, 1821-2021 (£10), has been compiled and edited by Angelique Day and William Roulston. This publication marks the 200-year legacy of the BNH&PS, initiated by Dr James Lawson Drummond and like-minded science enthusiasts. As a tribute to Drummond, a species of sea cucumber carries his name. The BNH&PS is renowned for launching Ireland’s inaugural purpose-built museum in 1831, the funds for which were raised through public contributions. As pointed out by former chairman and architect, Marcus Patton, this establishment mirrors Belfast’s initial pursuit of arts and sciences, not religious or commercial goals.
Among the museum’s impressive early collections was the mummy of Takabuti, a noblewoman from modern-day Luxor which was donated in 1834. In a riveting piece, society’s vice-president, Winnifred Glover, delves into the fervour sparked by the unveiling of Takabuti during a presentation on Egyptian hieroglyphics where fine details of the mummy’s condition were discussed. Experts carefully dissected the physical state of the embalmed body, one teacher drew the wrapped figure, a member involved in the textile industry examined the cloth that covered her, and someone else educated on the bugs found within the unwrapping. Other discussions touched on the embalming process and aromatic substances used, as well as the craftsmanship of the mummy case and its colouring.
Derek Molyneux and Darren Kelly’s Tomorrow With Bayonets, Dublin 11 July 1921-July 1922 (Mercier Press, €17.50) revisits the gruesome year of the Civil War, when Dublin was beset by blazes, homicides, and inner city conflicts. The book has ten detailed chapters focusing on topics like the Anglo-Irish treaty discussions and ceasefire, the mounting tensions, the skirmish of the Four Courts, and the struggle for Dublin.
The authors paint a vivid image of the atmosphere on July 11, 1921, the day the conflict between the British military and police forces, and the rebellious Republicans, ceased. They describe the blistering heat and busy, tram-lined streets of the time, the foghorn sounds, whistles heard by the River Liffey, and the chiming church bells, creating a ripple of relief. However, doubts arose about the truce’s durability. The siege of Dublin is portrayed in its tragic, dramatic, absurd, and sometimes laughable elements, creating a whirlwind of deep-seated emotions. The details are meticulously researched and the intensely recounted circumstances make the book an engaging read.
Donal Hall and Eoin Magennis’ book, ‘Armagh: The Irish Revolution, 1912-23’, published by Four Courts Press, is priced at €24.95. It covers a decade of centenaries, exploring local experiences that shaped the city and the county. During this time, Armagh witnessed the tumultuous period stretching from the escalating Home Rule crisis to the Civil War. Despite Armagh’s being a critical battleground, the sectarian violence it experienced was not as severe as that in Belfast. However, the possibility of conflict always loomed. The political turbulence and rising tension led to confrontations between nationalists and republicans and attacks on military forces.
In the midst of the War of Independence, in June 1921, one of Armagh IRA’s deadliest operations was led by Frank Aiken. Known as the Adavoyle ambush, it was carried out close to the Louth border. The ambush targeted a train carrying over 100 soldiers and horses on their way back from the grand opening of the new Northern Ireland parliament. The derailment resulted in the deaths of three soldiers from the 10th Hussars, a railway guard, and nearly 80 horses. The site was likened to a battlefield. In a separate incident near Crossmaglen, a Sinn Féin convoy, with Éamon de Valera, Austin Stack, and Seán McEntee, was intercepted by a large group from an opposing gathering and bombarded with mud. One interpretation of events suggests that De Valera needed medical assistance and the vehicles were substantially damaged.
In his family-centred historical account, “A Seam of Emerald” (£7.99), Ray Knowles — an Englishman born in Birmingham — looks back on his Irish lineage from the era of the 1798 Rebellion and beyond. Knowles delves deeply into the sorrowful history of Ireland, covering events until the early 1920s when his kin became involved in the quest for national liberation, later migrating to England. His forefather, Jack Kiely, was an IRA member who resided near Borris in Co Carlow, running a small mill that had been in his family’s possession for over two centuries.
Radicalised by his circumstances, Kiely regaled his grandson with numerous harrowing tales of past atrocities, hardship, and subjugation. However, he concealed a darker chapter of his life that Knowles would later piece together from his frequent visits to his ancestral homeland. In February 1934, Kiely and two associates impulsively pulled off an armed heist at a bank in Taghmon, Wexford, netting under £800. It was reported in the press that Kiely was sentenced to seven years imprisonment and had expressed remorse for the distress caused to the bank manager’s family. He even tried to give the manager’s wife 10 shillings from the swag for their children, which she refused, declaring she would never accept criminally acquired wealth.