Tag Archives: Clonmel

Clonmel District Marriage Records, Co. Tipperary

This page features civil Marriage Records for the district of Clonmel in Co. Tipperary and includes full names (where possible), the year of marriage, and the quarter in which the marriage occurred. A searchable index of all available marriage records is available here.

Name Year Quarter
Alan Bailey 1845
Alexander Wilson 1847
Anne Cleary 1876
Anne Lahey 1879 3rd
Anne Willis 1847
Catherine Keating 1870
Catherine Kennedy 1865
Catherine King 1864
Charles Hoult 1856
Cornelius Kennelty 1869
David O’Leary 1855
Denis Hyland 1864
Edmond Kendrick 1865
Edmund Foley 1864
Edward Adderly 1851
Edward Kenealy 1864
Eliza Achieson 1846
Eliza Ackison 1846
Eliza Blake 1846
Elizabeth Daly 1846
Ellen Cleary 1876
Ellen Fitzgerald 1864
Ellen Galavan 1864
Ellen Galvin 1890 1st
Ellen Kenna 1865
Ellen Kenna 1867
Ellen Reidy 1865
George A. Good 1876
Hannah Nash 1845
Henry Kidd 1857
Henry Reid 1865
Hiram Pritchard 1845
James Henry 1882 1st
James Hyland 1864
James Keating 1874
James Keating 1874
James Kemp 1873
James Kennelly 1869
James Kennelly 1870
James Quick 1865
James Tooch 1857
Jane Bailey 1845
Job Deacon Agar 1851
Job Deacon Agar 1851
John Anglim 1877
John Keane 1923 3rd
John Keily 1879 2nd
John Kenneally 1869
John Kennedy 1865
John Killeen 1879 1st
John Kinnaw 1879 3rd
John Murray 1865
JOhn Noonan 1900 1st
Joseph Charles Higgins 1884 4th
Joseph Charles Higgins 1884 4th
Joseph Hoskins 1850
Kate Anglim 1877
Kate Cahill 1895 3rd
Laurence Henneberry 1882 2nd
Margaret Callaghan 1850
Margaret Kennedy 1873
Margaret Maher 1876
Margaret Ryan 1887 3rd
Martin Deady 1898 2nd
Mary Cunningham 1864
Mary Eagen 1856
Mary Fahey 1877
Mary Henebry 1882 1st
Mary Jane Emery 1867
Mary Kelly 1879 3rd
Mary Purcell 1845
Mary Reilly 1922 1st
Mathew Keogh 1873
Michael Keating 1870
Patrick Dower 1898 1st
Patrick Gallavan 1869
Philip Kiely 1890 1st
Pierse Keating 1870
Richard Curtis 1866
Sarah Tomlinson 1852
Thomas Callaghan 1854
Thomas Feehan 1885 2nd
Thomas Kilmartin 1869
Timothy Kennedy 1866
William Bailey 1845
William Callaghan 1864
William J. King 1878 1st
William James England 1871
William Keating 1870
William Kelly 1849
William Kemble 1869
William Lowe Macnamara 1854
William Lowe Macnamara 1855
William Murphy 1900 3rd
William Wakley 1900 4th
William Wilson 1851

Civil Registration Records

Before the Race


On the eighth day of July,
Three boats their speed will try
At Marlfield; ’tis nigh,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

The Rover and Clonmel,
The Colleen Bawn as well;
Who’s best, time will tell,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

But the Rover ought to win,
If the crew are worth a pin;
‘Tis on them I’ll stake the tin,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

What kind are the crew?
Oh, they will stand true blue,
As Irishmen should do,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Meagher is stroke oar;
He led the van before,
And says he’ll win once more,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Mullin will be there,
O’Connor Dan pulls fair,
And O’Donnell’s strength is rare,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

What have they to fear,
If the course be but kept clear,
For Savage is to steer,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

But if they be left out,
There can be no doubt
But we’ll see a fighting bout,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

The Clonmel crew are proud,
Their talk is rather loud,
But perhaps they may be cowed,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

The Colleen’s hopes are high,
To strive they are not shy,
For the oars they well can ply,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Let each have but fair play,
And two to one, I say,
The Rover gains the day,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Right well may they brag,
On their tongue he put no gag,
If they proudly wear the flag,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

When the prize is won,
And fireworks are begun,
Then we’ll see some fun,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Then Roman candles bright,
We’ll hail with great delight
The heroes of the fight,
Says the Shan van Vaeth.

Given by R. S. PELLISIER.

Taken from
My Clonmel Scrapbook.
County Tipperary.
Famous Trials,
Sketches, Stories,
Ballads, &c.
Compiled & Edited by James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

The Old Friary Bell (at Clonmel) by P. O’H. Peters


Written on hearing it at Clonmel a few days ago

Air- “Aileen Mavourneen.”

WHAT mystical music resounds on my ear,
Remarkably tender, melodious and clear;
Proclaiming its mission thro’ valley and dell?
‘Tis the beautiful chime of the old Fri’ry bell.

How softly it floats on the swet-scented air,
Inviting the faithful to service and prayer ;
Saint Mary’s itself couldn’t really excel
The beautiful chime of the old Fri’ry bell.

For many a year has it echoed along
The clear-winding river majestic and strong,
Outliving both Ireton and Cromwell as well,
The beautiful chime of the old Fri’ry bell.

Tho’ seasons unnumbered have silently flown,
Since first I rejoiced in its magical tone;
Yet deeply I’ll cherish, wherever I dwell,
The beautiful chime of the old Fri’ry bell.

Taken from My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

The Defence of Clonmel by D. A. McCArthy

WHEN Oliver Cromwell – whose name is still remembered with horror in Ireland – besieged Clonmel, the garrison of fifteen hundred men, commanded by Hugh Duff O’Neill, and aided by the townspeople, resisted most bravely. At length, finding further struggle against overwhelming odds hopeless, O’Neill decided to evacuate the town ; buy before taking this step, he planned and executed a stroke which for the time being, almost demoralised the enemy and filled them with such a wholesome respect for the prowess of the town’s defenders that, when Clonmel surrendered, its people received favourable terms from Cromwell. General Sir William Butler, KC.B., writing of this event, says: “No opposition appeared until the leading troops entered the breach. The column anticipated an easy victory, but there was terrible slaughter, and they were repulsed. An hour after nightfall O’Neill withdrew his forces, and the town was surrendered.”

“Ho, chosen warriors of the Lord,
Gird up your loins to-day!
Yon breach within, the sons of sin
Stand desp’rately at bay.
Draw, draw your swords, your pieces prime,
Let drum and trumpet swell !
This charge must tout the Papists out”
Cried Cromwell at Clonmel.

E’en at his word the army stirred,
Grim veterans all were they,
Whose swords had flashed, whose cannon crashed
In many a fiery fray.
At Naseby field and Marston Moor
Full well they’d fleshed their spears,
When fast before their charge had fled
The haughty Cavaliers.

The eyes beneath each morion glowed
With strange, fanatic light;
They deemed themselves the saints of God,
His instruments of might.
No doubt this firm conviction vexed,
But fierce, ferocious, calm,
Their war-cry was a Scripture text,
Their battle-song a psalm.

Across the land their march had been
A devastating flood;
Where’er it twined it left behind
A crimson stain of blood.
Not e’en the piteous plea of age
Their fury could disarm,
And vain the wile of childhood’s smile
Their murderous mood to charm.

And now, behold, against Clonmel
They vainly fling their bands!
Battered and bayed but undismayed
The town defiant stands.
Battered and bayed but undismayed
It meets each fresh attack;
With soldiers few and faint but true
It hurls the foemen back.

Hugh Duff O’Neill commands the town,
And marks, with looks that lower,
Cromwellian cannon batter down
His forts from hour to hour.
He marks the famine-stricken few
That hold the crumbling wall,
And knows that vain is all their pain –
Clonmel at last must fall.

The up he speaks unto his chiefs ;
“Ere yet this town we leave,
We’ll make a stand for fatherland
Will cause the foe to grieve.
The breach that yeawns so widely now
Wil serve our purpose well ;
Before we go we’ll make the foe
Remember ‘Rare Clonmel’!”

Within the breach’s ywning mouth
A lane of stone he rears;
He lines the walls on either side
With all his musketeers,
across the end another wall
With cannon furnished fit –
“I have a mind,” quoth he, “they’ll find
This breach the devil’s pit”

The trap is made, but scarcely laid,
When Cromwell’s voice rings out;
With eager cry his troops reply,
In one wild charging shout.
Then, like the thundering wave that roars
Along the sounding beach,
The rushing Roundhead army pours
Its thousands through the breach!

Clonmel, Clonmel, thy fate is sealed!
Thy sun is sunk in gloom!
No strength thy puny arm may wield
Can save thee from thy doom –
The doom that fell on Drogheda
And Wexford town as well –
Slaughter and flame, defeat and shame,
Are thine today, Clonmel!

But see! But see! Who can these be
From out the breach that run ?
What panic-stricken wretches flee
With broken blade and gun?
Can these be Cromwell’s chosen troops,
Erewhile so fierce and fell,
That stagger out, a broken rout,
From dauntless old Clonmel ?

Yes, yes! Thank God for cannoneers,
Who mowed them down in ranks!
Thank God for ready musketeers
Whose volleys swept their flanks!
Thank God for gallant soldiers all,
Who charged and broke and slew
In one brief hour the very flower
Of Cromwell’s canting crew!

Yes, yes! Thank God for Irish hearts,
Unconquerable still !
Of war’s red cost the Roundhead host
To-day have had their fill.
Honour to these who held the town,
And let the future tell
How Irish swords beat back the hordes
Of Cromwell at Clonmel !

Taken from My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

The Moon at Clonmel by C.J. Boland

by C. J. BOLAND.

It was ten o’clock at night when I reached my station on the Kerry line, after a lonely drive over the mountains from the Black Valley, and the mail train was not due for a full hour to come. But Nature had provided a lavish compensation, for the scene before me was one to linger over at the time, and to recall with delight in after years. The moon was shining in the heavens with a bridal radiance, bathing mountain and sea in floods of liquid silver. Above me the bare faces of the rocks high up the mountain side, still wet from the day’s rain, were gleaming like burnished shields. Beeneath slumbered a little hamlet, with its coastguard station snowy white beside the yellow strand. In front the sea was shimmering in an ecstasy under the moonnbeams. Beyond it lay the dark blue promontory, with the narrow mouths of two harbours plainly visible; while the lovely Blasquet Islands, as they stood clear-cut in the silver sea, for once lost their aspect of gloom and desolation. I was leaning on the low parapet of the station wall drinking in the beauty of the SCENE – one of those that are said to call up tears tears to the eye of the beholder. Silence deep and perfect save for the occasional sobbing of the surf as broke against the cliffs far below, only served to lend added charm to the somewhat ghostly beauty of the night.

Suddenly, not without irritation, I heard footsteps approaching along the rough gravel of the platform.

The thought of being interrupted in my visual feast did not appeal to me, but when the stationmaster – for it was he – also leaned silently on the coping in contemplation of the scene, I unconsciously admitted him a partner in my feelings. Perhaps the fact that we were both smoking aided our tacit companionship, and it was some time before words were spoken on either side.

“A lovely moon,” I said at length; “I don’t rememember ever having seen it so perfect.”

“Then,” said the stationmaster, as he took the pipe from his mouth, “then you have never seen the moon at Clonmel,”

I said nothing ; accent alone betrayed him a townsman of mine, but I did not then nor afterwards acknowledge it. Later on, I was glad of my reticence; I’ll for I found him to be a man living a memory long since grown into a crystal, which contact with reality would have hopelessly shivered. I looked at him, and saw a far off reminescent look in his bright old eyes as theY gazed over the prospect, and as I felt an intuition I that he would continue to speak I remained a listener. I wonder it did not strike me at the time that his language was superior to what might be looked for in one at his position; but I fancy he must have read much in the necessarily long intervals from duty at his small hillside station.

“I’m certain of it,” he continued, “and if you are ever there, and such a night as this comes out of the heavens, you will recall my words.

“Twenty years ago I left Clonmel, where I did night duty at the railway station for five years. Winter and summer, in snow and rain, wet nights and fine, I was porter at the night mail; but the only nights I remember now are the moonlight ones. The train was due about two o’clock in the morning – I say about two, for it was oftener nearer to three when she’d whistle at Patrick’s Well. When she was gone, and I had turned out all the lamps, I used to walk home to Irishtown by Gallowshill. Moon or no moon, Gallosshill was dark. Heavy trees overhang it at Prior Park, and maybe it was the trees, or it might be the thought of the hangings in the bad times which gave it its name, that made my heart sink as I walked along in the early morning before dawn, with the silence of death around me. Sleep didn’t come easily to me in those days, perhaps because I was a new hand at the night work; so I was in the habit of taking a walk to tire myself before going to bed in the small hours. I am glad of it now, for the look of Clonmel on a night like this is in my eyes and in my heart for ever. At that hour there wouldn’t be a soul in Johnson Street or Duncan Street except the watchman; but the sleepy cry of him as he droned out, “Past three and a fine night,” wouldn’t have disturbed a weasel. And then I came on the river. The mournful swish-swish of the water, when the river was low, making its way through the weeds, and the dark outlines of the lighters, covered with tarpaulins, made me feel as if I were alone in the world. To stand on the Old Bridge, on such a night as this, is an experience not to be forgotten. If you go there, look across at the mountain, framed by the high buildings like a slender picture; the fences are as clear as on a map, and Pelissier’s Castle and the flagstaff as plain as print. Or lean on the parapet of the bridge, and look down the river at the dark, deserted corn-stores and Grubb’s Island, with the branches of the big sally-trees kissing the water, and the river bubbling along happy and careless. Or turn your eyes up the stream, over the weir, towards the Boathouse; there are trees fringing each bank, and one tall poplar in the distance to finish off the view.

“Then, maybe, I’d go on by Spring Gardens, walk then by the tan-yards, and across the fields towards ‘Little Hell.’ The river is heavy and sluggish there, and you might think it a trifle gloomy, but you will change your mind when you pass the Thirteenth Hole, and stand on the Convent Bridge. Take the view down the river now. Irishtown is asleep on your left, and on the other side lie level fields, with big briar fences between the river and the mountain. You see the mountain again, only more of it, soft and sheltering, with the rugged ridge of the Reeks in the distance, and Slievenamon calmly watching over all. If you can tear yourself from that picture, look up the river once more along the sallies of Purcell’s Island, and along the deep shadow thrown on the water by the Convent wall, and I’m mistaken if the moon won’t pick out the Gravel Island for you, and Newbolds, where the Clonmel schoolboys make their first attempts at swimming.

“At first I used to go straight home from there.

But after my little daughter died–”

There was trouble with the stationmaster’s pipe at this point, and I became deeply interested in the proogress of a fishing corrach which had shot into the line of light, propelled by oars that struck a phosphorescent flash from the sea at every dip. The stationmaster, meanwhile, had overcome the difficulty with his pipe, and resumed.

“I don’t say that others can feel in the same way as I do towards the old churchyard of St. Stephen’s. Because I have a special reason. I lost my little daughter, and there she lies. She would be three twenty now if she had lived. But God’s will be done!
He took her when she was only two, with her laughing face and her wavy black hair like her mother’s.

“From the time she went, I took in the old grave-yard on my moonlight rambles. Goodness knows ’tis a lonely spot. The tall poplars stand around its sides like ghostly sentinels, but the light comes freely between them, and somehow I never could think it a gloomy place. The ruined chapel loses a few centuries in the softness of the moonbeams, and the tombstones leaning this way and that from age gave me the idea that they were human in their weakness, and that they too longed to lie down and be at rest. I never could bring myself to look on them as mere limestone and granite; while others forgot and slept they kept watch, and to me in the moonlight they seemed to feel a sympathy with the lives and the loves of the people they covered. There I could sit by the hour, and maybe it wasn’t good for me, for the thought of my little girl would come so strongly over me, that I could fancy I saw her stumbling towards me across the graves, with her bright eyes laughing and her pretty hands stretched out to me to catch her before she’d fall.”

The stationmaster paused, and then, as if to himself, said, in a softer voice-

“And when it comes my own turn to go, I like to think I’ll feel her little hands in mine, and that they’ll help me.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “sometimes I feel the wish to go back to the old town again, but perhaps I would be sorely disappointed. ‘Tis hard to believe what I’m told, that in twenty years there is scarcely a name on a sign-board in the Main Street which hasn’t been changed. And then, I know I’d miss the old street characters that were as familiar as the face of the clock at the Main Guard. But though all these have changed, I am certain that the moon at Clonmel is shining to-night on the town and river and hill with the same beauty as twenty golden years ago.

“And what wouldn’t I give to see it? ”

A long, shrill whistle from the approaching mail, the gleam of the engine’s fire, and my train drew up at the station.

I shook hands with the old stationmaster, as warmly I hope as I felt towards him, and told him I hoped to be in Clonmel before long.

“Give it my love,” he cried, as the train steamed out; and at the turn of the cutting the station, and the kind, loving soul that brightened it more than the moonbeams, were lost to me, perhaps for ever.

Taken from My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

An Old Murder “Trial”, Clonmel, Co. Tipperary, 1821

from “The Nationalist” Newspaper

In the year 1821 the times in Ireland, particularly in the county of Tipperary, were very disturbed, several murders (including landlords) having taken place. This gruesome year, with the object of carrying out some Government business of importance, I was ordered to visit the south of Ireland. I arrived about one o’clock on the 24th March at Clonmel, and having engaged my bed and ordered dinner, decided on going into the court-house, which was close at hand. It occurred to me that I would see how business was conducted in an Irish court-house, and that perhaps I might be fortunate enough to be present at the hearing of a “sensational case. On going into the court-house I found the hall, which is a large one, crowded by military and police. Observing a smart-looking police sergeant, I addressed him, telling who I was, and expressing a wish to be accommodated with a seat in court. “The court, sir,” he said, “is just now very much crowded,” as a murder case of great importance is being called ; but as the grand jury are now discharged, I will be able to procure you a seat in their gallery.” With the sergeant I entered the gallery by a large winding stair. Here I was afforded a full view of the court and all that was passing. The court itself I found not a large one. It had a fine judicial seat, occupied by the Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, Toler (Lord Norbury). There were other galleries, one in front of the bench, the others at each side, with a large dock in the centre, having a large iron railing around it.

Just as I took my seat, the case of the King against James Driscoll, for the murder of Charles Baker, a large landed proprietor residing near Cappawhite, was beginning. After several jurors were ordered to stand aside, and others challenged by the prisoner’s attorney, the jury was sworn, and the prisoner given them in charge. The prisoner was a smart-looking fellow, some twenty-eight years of age, with a determined look. He pleaded “Not guilty.” The court itself was over-crowded. Great excitement was visible everywhere.

The counsel for the Crown, Mr. Scott, stated the case, giving an alarming picture of the state of the country. There were, he said, murders – awful murders – of frequent occurrence, and the present case was one of the worst. Unless the strong arm of the law was able to meet and crush such fearful deeds, juries and judges doing their part, there would be no living in the country, as law and order were unhinged.

The first witness called merely proved the finding of the dead body. The next witness proved seeing the prisoner and a person named Jack Crowe together on the evening of the murder, close to Mr. Baker’s residence.

A great scene was then witnessed in court. A witness was presented who proved too many for judge and counsel. I never before or since saw or read of such a clever fellow: These Tipperary people are, no doubt, a strong and active race.

John Crowe, the prisoner’s former friend, was called to the witness table, having turned king’s evidence. He came forward amidst intense excitement. After being duly sworn, and having given his name, he was ordered to sit down. At this moment the court was as still as the grave .

Mr. Scott, Crown Counsel. – Witness, your name is John Crowe.
Witness made no reply.
Counsel.- Why don’t you answer my question?
Court. – Answer counsel’s question, sir.
Witness. – My lord, he has put me no question. He appears to know my name. He says it is John Crowe, and so it is.
Counsel (a little confused).- You are living close to the prisoner at the bar.
Witness made no reply.
Counsel.–Why don’t you answer my question?
Judge (sharply) – Why don’t you answer counsel’s question
Witness – Counsel put no question. He says I am living close to the prisoner in the dock, and so I am, as every one in court can see. (There was great excitement in the court at this answering.)
Court – Don’t you know sir, that counsel means when you are at home?
Witness – I don’t know what is passing through his mind. I only know what is passing through his lips, and he has addressed me in the present tense. (Sensation in Court)
Counsel – What is the prisoner?
Witness – He is a man.
Counsel – Does he earn his bread by the sweat of his brow?
Witness – that is a queer question – Does he earn his bread by the sweat of his brow? I suppose the sweat on his brow was produced by the use of bread r other food (Great commotion in court, and cries of “Bravo, Crowe”)
Counsel.- Does he earn his bread as a farm labourer?
Witness .- I don’t believe he earns any bread. But I will tell you what I believe and know – he earns potatoes and milk, the common food of the country, three times a day. (Court awfully disturbed.)
Counsel.- You are, I believe, a friend of the prisoner?
Witness.- So you say.
Counsel.- Do you remember 20th January last?
Witness.- I do.
Counsel. – Were you in his company that night ?
Witness. – For a time.
Counsel. – Near Mr. Baker’s house?
Witness. – So you say.
Counsel. – Was the night a bright night?
Witness. – Well, at this distance of time I can’t positively say. After the occurrence, and while the matter was fresh in my memory, I stated it all truly and honestly in an information, which I swore before Mr. Jordan, and if you read that I will swear to every word in it.
Counsel.- I am reading, sir, from your information.
Witness.- No, sir, you are not – you are reading from a brief, made of my information by some clerk. I don’t know what he has written in your brief, I want my information.
Court (to the clerk of the Crown).- Get the information.
Clerk of the Crown. – We can’t find the document in court.
judge. – Let a search be made for it in the Crown office. I will return to court in half-an-hour.

After the adjournment, the judge addressed the clerk of the Crown. – Have you found the missing information ? Clerk of the Crown. – After a most careful search, it is not forthcoming, and no one can account for its missing .

Judge (horrified). – Here is a nice business! So great a miscarriage of justice I never witnessed or heard of.

Crown Counsel. – I will ask your lordship to withdraw this case from the jury in order that it may be again be brought on. There is some foul play .

Judge – I can’t do that; the jury have been regularly empanelled. The prisoner has been put to plead ,and given in charge, and several witnesses examined. Owing to some misconduct in the Crown office the prosecution has fallen through. This is the most remarkable case I have ever had before me. The approver or Crown witness have made a laughing-stock of the court. Let the prisoner be discharged. (Great applause in Court.)

Judge (to Witness) – Where did you go to school? You are the smartest chap I have ever had before me.
Witness: As for school, my lord, I might say I never went to school. At school all I learnt was my letters. I got an old spelling-book, and after much trouble I came on in spelling words, and then I got an old grammar and stUdied it, so as that I got to know some of its meaning.

Here the court broke up in confusion, and I left with a vivid memory of a most notable official fiasco, on the first muRder “trial” I witnessed in the capital of gallant Tipperary.

Taken from My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

The Franciscan Friary, Clonmel, Co. Tipperary

The Franciscan Friary was founded in 1269, either by the townsmen, by Otto de Grandison, or by the Desmond Geraldines. The convent was reformed by the Observants in 1536, and surrendered by Robert Travers, the last guardian, 3rd March, 31 Hen. VIII. The property was given, half to the Earl of Ormond and half to the townsmen, who maintained the church, which the Provincial, Father Mooney, found in good order at his visitation to it in 1615. The Tudor iconoclasts had even failed to destroy a miraculous image of St. Francis, on which witnesses used to be sworn “it having been observed that perjurers had often been punished and confounded when they had had the audacity to swear against the truth, calling St. Francis to witness” (Alemand).

The Rev. C. P. Meehan has given us further particulars about the condition of the place when Mooney saw it. The conventual buildings were gone. But in the church the altars were standing, and also a magnificent monument to the Baron of Caher, and many others. The zealous Provincial was much “scandalised by the conduct of some Jesuits and other ecclesiastics, who, in the absence of the Franciscans, allowed the remains of the Protestant sovereign of Clonmel to be interred close by Lord Caher’s monument in the choir, and that he caused the body to be exhumed in the night time, and buried elsewhere. This, he informs us, he did with the permission of the Archbishop of Cashel.” The Archbishop was David Kearney. The Jesuits, if they showed less zeal than this distinguished Franciscan, certainly showed more policy. Mooney succeeded in rescuing the church altogether from the disciples of Loyola; but the lands, in spite of all his efforts, remained with the Earl of Ormond. These were but a few acres of land, partly situated at “New town, near Anner’s Bridge.” A long narrow pasture-field by the riverside, and lately added to the Osborne estate at Newtown Anner, is called, to this day, Inch-na; braher, or Friar’s Field. There were also some houses, one or more mills, and a fishing-pool and weir in Clonmel. The Earl of Ormond and the townsfolk respectively paid twelve pence rent to the Crown for their moiety or halfindel.

Cromwell is said to have stabled his troopers in the church, and the place fell gradually to decay.  After other strange vicissitudes, the building passed once more into the possession of the Franciscan Order. In 1827 the Friary was restored, and it is to be regretted that this was accomplished in a manner calculated, in a great measure, to destroy many traces of its original architecture then in existence. From the remains of the east window of the choir, which can now only be seen between the present ceiling and the outer roof, it was evidently a pure specimen of the Early English style, similar to the cathedral on the Rock of Cashel. The tower is the only part left in its original state – its parapet and pinnacles are, however, of modern erection. The present resident guardian, the Rev. James Walsh, O.S.F., has done much in beautifying the interior of the church, and has also shown a most praiseworthy interest in protecting from further injury the few fragmentary remains of the ancient sculptured monuments which once adorned the abbey. The covering slab of a remarkably fine tomb, belonging to the Butlers, and bearing the effigies of a Knight Templar and his wife, of the House of Ormond, has been carefully set up inside the church, immediately opposite the main entrance. We learn from the inscription it bears that this tomb was originally erected the memory of “James Galdie Butler,” and other members of the family, who died during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Author : WILLIAM CLARKE. Published in In “Clonmel Chronicle.”
Taken from My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

Civic Annals, Clonmel, Co. Tipperary

CIVIC ANNALS : Clonmel, Co. Tipperary

Clonmel, it has been said, may be considered in its corporate capacity as of the prescriptive class of borough endowed with civic rights anterior to written authority. The first event on record in connection with the town carries us back to the period of the invasion of Ireland by Henry II. Henry, through the submission of the Irish princes and governors of the south, soon became established in his newly acquired authority. As he marched from Waterford to Lismore, he parcelled out the principal estates to certain of his valiant knights, who had proved his more devoted adherents. To one of these – Otho de Grandison – was given all Tipperary. One of Otho’s earliest acts was the erection of Clonmel into a borough, according to the powers conferred upon him.

At a Parliament held in Dublin A.D. 1300, to which all the boroughs of Ireland were required to send representatives, Clonmel appears as “from the borough of De Grandison at Clonmel,” on which occasion its representatives voted an assessment upon it for the service of the State to the amount of twelve marks. In the reign of Edward II., “The Provost and Commonality of Clonmel” sued the king to relieve them from some difficulties; and in the year 1313 a charter of amercement was granted, which proved that, whatever they had done amiss, the royal favour was not forfeited.

In 1329 the King’s Escheator was commanded to take possession of all the lands and tenements which had belonged to Otho de Grandison, then deceased (2nd Edward III). This seizure by the Royal Escheator was consequent upon the existing state of tenures, whereby, upon any alienations, a license should issue from the Crown to legalise them. The alienation in this case was from Peter, heir male of Otho de Grandison, to Maurice, son of Thomas Earl of Desmond, then a minor, and was duly certified in Chancery.

Edward III. seems to have held the ancient and loyal borough of Clonmel in his especial favour, for we find from the Patent Rolls that on the 20th January, in the forty-fifth year of his reign, he granted “to the Provost and Commons’ of the town” a charter giving them full license to elect annually a sovereign from, their co-burgesses; a privilege which, it is to be innferred, had formerly been exercised by the De Grandison family. The manor and lordship of Clonmel soon after fell to the Butlers, and at a time when the sovereign was showering honours thickly upon them.

In Morrins’ Patent and Close Rolls (p. 376) we find, what is termed “The Governing Charter of Clonmel,” dated July 5th, in the sixth year of the reign of James 1. (1608). It recites as follows :-
“That the town of Clonmel was an ancient Borough, situate in the Liberty of Tipperary and Waterford – fortified from the time of its foundation by forts and walls, erected by English lieges : springing from an ancient race using English habits, customs, and laws – That the inhabitants duly rendered laudable service to Englishmen, with the loss of their blood and life. – That the town was contiguous to the Suire, with a port convenient for navigation, having a Bridge long and nigh; fortified with towers, castles, and bulwarks; in the reparation of which the inhabitants had expended considerable sums of money, but now, in consequence of the poverty of the inhabitants, had become ruined and decayed; and the residents, in consequence of the Plague and the Burning of the Town, are reduced to great poverty, and likely to remain so unlesse aid be speedilie given.- And as the town is convenient for the King’s Commissioners, Justices, and Army.- In consideration of the fidelite and obedience of the inhabitants which they have manifestly exhibited :-


” ‘ That the town and suburbs and the entire extent of land and water on every side within the ancient limits BE FOR EVER A FREE BOROUGH INCORPORATE, consisting of a Mayor, Two Bailiffs, Free Burgesses and Commons (23 Burgesses) – of whom the Mayor and Bailiffs shall be three. License was also given to appoint a man learned in the law to be Recorder of the Town: a Clerk of the Tholsell : a Sword-Bearer: three Sergeants-at-Mace, and so many inferior officers as shall he necessary for the service of the town. – To have a Common Seale, engraved with such inscription as to them shall seem expedient, to seal all Writings, Evidences, and Muniments of the Town; and another seale or signet wherewith to seale all Testimonials, Certificates, and Attachments.

” ‘They may have a Guild Mercatory [Chamber of Commerce], and a hall appurtenant. No foreign merchant shall sell by retail any merchandise in the town without special license unlesse the wares be bought or sold from day to day at the usual times and places.

” ‘They may have two markets, namely – on every Tuesday and Saturday, and the Mayor shall be Clerk : They shall have the Assize of Bread, Wine, and Beer, and the Mayor may wear such robes and garments as the Mayor of Waterford.

” ‘They shall have a Quay or Wharf in the town upon the Suire, and take from each ship coming to load or unload, for the maintenance of the quay, 4d. for every ton weight imported or exported: and they shall have the pontage or custom of the Bridge as they anciently had without molestation or impediment. All their goods and chattels shall be free of lastage, pontage, passage, pavage, anchorge, quayage, gravage, and wharfage, in all cities and towns, in as ample a manner as the citizens of Kilkenny.

” ‘They may acquire Manors, Lands, and Tenements; Advowsons and Services of the annual value of £20 : and they shall have all waifs and strays occurring in the Town, and may quietly enjoy all their lands, tenements, houses, mills, orchards, and pastures – the ancient burgage of the town. – July 5th, 6 James I.'”

This charter continued in operation until James II. forced its surrender by quo warranto! An “Exempliification” of the charter of 1608 was subsequently granted by King William III, and taken out at the instance of John Moore, Esq., Mayor of Clonmel. It is this “Exemplification” which is at present to be found amongst the records of our municipal corporation.

There is an old tradition that the victims of the violent epidemic which occurred here were interred in The old burial-ground of St. Nicholas, in the south suburbs of the town, and near the Goaten Bridge. The ancient name of the place – now all but forgotten – was Teampull a plau, or “The Church of the Plague.”

About a mile from Clonmel, in the south-eastern suburbs of the town, there has existed from time immemorial an unfailing chalybeate spring, protected by a low, arched building, resembling a crypt. This once famous Spa – which, in the olden time, drew many a wanderer in search of health from distant parts of Ireland – stands upon a portion of the corporate estate, now held under lease by Mr. Bagwell, of Marlfield, with, however, all public rights reserved. A stone tablet, built into the wall of the old structure, with its ancient-looking inscription, introduces us to one of the earliest “Mayors of Clonmel.” There were Sovereigns who governed this time-honoured and historic borough for three hundred years before; but Mayors, from the days of James 1., ruled with greater power, and represented a higher degree of civic dignity. The inscription runs simply thus :-

In 1667, the plan of Sir Peter Pett for introducing the woollen manufacture into Ireland was carried into effect by the Duke of Ormond, then Lord-Lieutenant; and, in order to provide a sufficient number of workmen, five hundred families of the Walloons were invited over from Canterbury to settle here. The manufacture continued to flourish for some time, but at length fell into decay, in consequence of the prohibitory statutes passed by the English Parliament soon after the Revolution. It is now in part revived in this neighbourhood. At Ballymacarberry, about seven miles from Clonmel, the Nire Vale Woollen Factory is worked by a Dublin company. Its romantic situation is greatly admired; and visitors will rejoice to hear the whirl of machinery and the hum of cheerful industry mingling with the mU,sical flow of the river. Mr. J. Mulcahy has another woollen factory, also at full work, adjoining Ardfinnan Castle.

Returning to Clonmel, we are not altogether devoid of manufacturing industry. Free trade and the importation of foreign grain levelled a blow at the manufacture of flour, and many of our large mills, which have often excited the stranger’s curiosity, now in their half-employed condition, tell only of a vast industry that has been lessened in extent, but is still an important one. The Clonmel Brewery, the most extensive manufacturing concern in Clonmel – Messrs. Thos. Murphy & CO. – has recently been considerably enlarged. The Clonmel Brand, in beer as well as butter, is in high repute on the other side of the Channel. This year a very large boot and shoe factory, fitted up with the finest machinery, and giving employment to nearly one hundred hands, was opened at Suir Island, Clonmel, by Mr. James Myers. ‘

The visitor will find Clonmel wearing a clean and thriving appearance. Its streets – from almost every one of which views of the adjacent mountains are had are spacious, handsomely edificed, and well regulated. The town is now under the immediate charge of the Corporation. Commercial enterprise serves to fill our various establishments with articles of the best class, rendering a visit to the metropolis unnecessary. Clonnmel was the residence from early childhood of the celebrated and beautiful Marguerite, Countess of Blesssington, third daughter of Mr. Edmond Power, who was the publisher of one of the earliest newspapers printed here. She was first the wife of the unfortunate Captain Farmer, to whom she was married at St. Mary’s Church, Clonmel; afterwards of the Earl of Blessington. Her salons in London were as popular as those of Holland House, and were the resort of the learned men of the day. To support her expenditure, she entered upon a career of authorship which knew no relaxation throughout the remainder of her life. She died at Paris. in 1849. Here also was born, in the year 1713, Laurence Sterne, the distinguished novelist; and remoter still, Bonaventura Baron, who wrote numerous works, during a long residence in Rome, where he died in 1696. Clonmel gives the title of Earl, in the peerage of Ireland, to the noble family of Scott. Captain Thomas Scott was an officer in the service of William III.; and his grandson, John Scott, Esq., was made Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench and Baron Earlsfort in 1874, Viscount Clonmell in 1789, and Earl of Clonmell in 1793.

The Suir bisects both the parish and town of Clonmel ; and during the whole of its transit, as well as over long stretches both above and below, it is rich in the beauties of landscape. Nearly all the parish is a gallery of fine scenes, all interesting, many much diversified, and some sweetly and even grandly powerful. From Merlin, the residence of S. Fayle, Esq., situated on the right bank of the river, close to Clonmel, a magnificent view over the valley of the Suir is laid open – not surpassed, in richness and variety, by any of the celebrated vales of England and Wales. In the immediate environs of the Waterford portion of the town are some very handsome villas. West of the town is Marlfield, the beautiful estate and residence of the Bagwell family, and where, during the last Royal Agricultural Show at Clonmel, the then Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland (Lord Wodehouse) was entertained with splendid hospitality. Adjoining Marlfield is the beautiful demesne of Knocklofty, the seat of the Earl and Countess of Donoughmore, remarkable for its fine old timber and the richest of woodland scenery. Two miles from the town, on the road to Caher, is Barne, the handsome mansion of Stephen Moore. Esq., D.L.; and four miles on the on the same road is Woodrooffe, the extensively wooded demesne of Samuel Perry, Esq., D.L. On the way to Cashel are Rathronan House and Knockeevan, the seats respectively of George Gough, Esq., and General Sir John Bloomfield Gough, G.C.B. Below the town, at from two to three miles, are Newtown, the seat of the Osbrone family; Tickencor Castle; the interesting and extended mountain ravine of Glenpatrick; and the magnificent woods of Gurteen.

(1) The figure “6” has been partly cut away so as to make it resemble “0” at first sight.

Take from:
My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 ; Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford ; 1907 ; No. ISBN

The Siege of Clonmel by Oliver Cromwell

Clonmel acquired much importance during the civil wars of the seventeenth century. It was one of the first places seized by Colonel Richard Butler of Kilcash, and the Lords of the Pale, when they resolved to take up arms and make common cause with the northern insurgents. Its citizens insisted strongly upon their allegiance to the royal cause, avowing that their only purpose was to defend themselves against a Parliament equally hostile to the sovereign and to themselves. They acted with singular magnanimity, for we read that their leaders granted a safe-conduct to such of the Protestant townsmen as were unwilling to join their ranks. It should also be mentioned to the credit of our town, that when cromwell’s commissioners afterwards made inquisition to the massacres of 1641, and following years, it was discovered that Clonmel had remained free from crime, and that not a single outrage had been perpetrated here. Life was found to have been held sacred within our walls. In the year 1650 Clonmel earned for itself a proud distinction, winning from Cromwell himself the highest tribute of admiration. The Parliamentarian general was sweeping with fiery haste through the southern counties of Ireland, and at last resolved to summon the garrison of Clonmel. The Earl of Ormond had already poured into the town some 1500 Ulstermen for its defence, entrusting the command to Hugh O’Neill, a kinsman of the great northern chieftain.  Fethard had been quietly surrendered ; Cashel garrisoned with a Parliamentary force ; Caher and Kilkenny were also safe in their hands ; and now, Cromwell with his ‘Ironsides.’ turns towards Clonmel, where the death agony of a terrible war is to be experienced.

For more than a month the lieutenant-general lay encamped before Clonmel, and siege operations were carried on with great difficulty and daily hazard. Day after day wore on, and still the enemy held out until about the 8th of May, when Cromwell resolved to push matters to the extremeties, for events in England were demanding his speedy return. A formidable battery was erected, and the guns opened fire upon the devoted walls : a breach was effected at about three o’clock in the afternoon of the 9th of May – it is supposed near the northern gate – and the besieging forces were thus enabled to dislodge the “flankers,” who had annoyed them with an unceasing cross-fire.

Cromwell lost many of his men in attempting to enter through the breach which his guns had made. The lot fell upon one Colonel Cullen, who was chosen to lead the advance with both infantry and cavalry. Where the wall had been battered down, was at the end of a great street-so the despatch of Mr. Secretary Cliffe runs – on either side of which were old houses, with wide bay windows, filled with armed men, who maintained a galling fire upon the assailants. Every effort was made to force a passage into the town, and beyond the counterscarp which O’Neill had thrown across; but a deadly storm rained thick upon the devoted band, and they were thrown into disorder. A precipitate flight ensued; and the ranks of the invaders were reduced to a skeleton. Cromwell had met with, indeed, “the stoutest enemy” he had ever encountered since his landing in Ireland. Those who survived that fatal hour had literally to be dragged up by hand over the debris of the broken ramparts. Cullen and several of his bravest companions were killed in the attack.(1)

Oliver next issued directions to have heavier guns brought up from the battery, and placed that night nearer the ramparts, ready for the morrow’s work. That night, Hugh O’Neill and his Ulstermen held a council of war with the civic authorities, which had been hastily summoned to consider the question of an immediate flight or further resistance. The latter was found imopssible, for the very plate of the richer in habitants had been melted down for the purpose of casting bullets ; and now these were all expended, and the powder supply totally exhausted. It was decided that the general and his brave army should make good their escape under the cover of night; this they were enabled to do through a clever stratagem.

At about twelve o’clock that night some of the officers stationed on the breach came to the camp, escorting two of the townspeople, with word from the mayor and the governor that they were ready to treat for surrender of the town, their lives and properties being guaranteed. Cromwell entered into treaty with them, and the articles of capitulation were actually drawn up. Nothing remained to be done, except their formal signature. It was not long before the silence was broken by a shrill alarum ; the troops rushed from their tents only to learn that O’Neill and his officers had escaped. Cromwell though outwitted, kept his word with the townspeople of Clonmel. This was all the more remarkable as he had lost 2500 people in that seige alone. He traced his great burly “Oliver” at the foot of the articles of surrender, and sent immediately a force of cavalry in pursuit of the fugitive army. The next morning, Cromwell marched into Clonmel: a new garrison was appointed, and Colonel Sankey was placed as Governor of the town.

From the bed of the river, near the old Manor Mills, several cannon-balls have been taken. Terrible reminders these, of that pitiless storm of iron hail which rained so furiously over Clonmel!

(1). It was in the course of this disastrous affair that Captain Langley, who was one of the first to volunteer for service with the storming party, had his left hand cut off by a blow of a scythe as he was attempting to mount the breach. Ever after he wore an iron hand, which curious and interesting memento is, we are informed, still preserved in a glass case at Coalbrook, the residence of that brave officer’s lineal descendant, Geo. Langley, Esq., D.L. Another relic is to be found at Coolmore, the residence of the late Captain Sankey, R.N.-namely, a pair of military gauntlets presented by Cromwell himself to an ancestor of his, who also was at the siege of Clonmel.

Taken from :
My Clonmel Scrapbook
Compiled & Edited James White
Second 1000 Published E. Downey & Co., Waterford 1907 No. ISBN

Waterford Lazar or Leper House, 1661

[In the Franciscan Convent, Clonmel, is an interesting document bearing on the history of the Leper Hospital, Waterford. It is in manuscript-bound up in a volume of Archdalls “” Monasticon “”- and purports to be a copy of an inquisition taken at Waterford immediately after the Restoration, before the Sheriff of the County and the Mayor of the City (William Halsey), with whom were associated Richard Power, Member of Parliament for the County, and James Bryver. Halsey represented the City in Parliament at the same time that he filled its Mayoral Chair. Father Cooney, O.S.F., Clonmel, copied the manuscript for our Most Reverend President, and we are here enabled, through the courtesy of the latter, to present its contents to the readers of the Journal. The site of the old Leper House, it may be well to add, was in Stephen-street, close to St. Stephen’s Church, and partly on the site of the present brewery.

In St. Stephen’s graveyard a few tombstones of no great antiquity still remain, and a small piece of masonry, apparently a fragment-the only fragment traceable of the church. A chamfered lintel of limestone, forming a wide angle arch over one of the windows in the present brewery buildings, bears the date 1632. The figures are cut in high relief, two on either side of the arch. This lintel belonged to the old Leper Hospital. Portion of the building itself, over a window of which the inscribed lintel is inserted, constituted very probably a part of the ancient hospital, and is in fact the only remnant of the latter now remaining. St. Mary Magdalen’s Chapel was apparently situated somewhere in the direction or neighbourhood of John’s Hill or Ballytruckle, in which direction also most of the suburban landed property of the hospital lay. The names of the persons found in possession of the hospital lands and buildings have a decidedly Cromwellian ring.- signed EDITOR (JWAHS).]

An inquisition taken before the Sheriff of the Co. of Waterford, the Mayor of the City of Waterford, Richard Power and James Bryver, Esqs, the 25th of Sept., 1661, at Waterford aforesaid, upon the oaths of honest and good men, etc., who being sworn upon the Holy Evangelists doe finde as followeth in these words, viz. :–
“”We find that the Lazar or Leaper House in the suburbs of Waterford, in St. Stephen’s Parish, was erected and founded by King John, and hath given the said house immunities and a charter to a Master, Bretheren, and Sisters of the said House for the maintenance of the Leapers for ever, and of which immunities they had a liberty that if any assault, battery, or bloodshed was committed within the precincts of said Lazar House, the Baron or Master of said House were sole judges of any such fact. We doe also find that it is further part of the immunities of said House, that if any man or woman in the City or Country of Waterford be infected with the Leprosie, and not taking their licence and freedom of members of the house to live abroad, and soe dying, their estate is forfeited to the said Leaper House. And we also find that there appertains to the House aforesaid as part of the perquisites thereunto belonging, the oblation of St. Mary Maudlin’s Chapel and the oblation of St. Stephen’s Church, together with all the christnings, mariages, and burials within the said Parish of St. Stephen’s Church, the house allowing to the Vicar of said Parish a competent annuity in consideration thereof, and the Mayor of Waterford did appoint a trusty man to oversee and receive the revenues and part out leases, by the name of Senescall in these latter adges, by what authority we know not.We find that Leaperstoun, in the Barony of Galtier and Parish of Kilmacom, esteemed were plough lands, with the tythes thereof, great and small, to belong to the said House, valued in the year 1641 at £106 sterg. a year, and so yielded for two or three years, recd. then by Francis Bryver, being Senescal of the said House, to the use of said Master, Bretheren, and Sisters of the said House. And since sometimes wast by reason of the wars, and sometimes sett at £50 a year, and sometimes more or less, which was received by the said Bryver during his life, and after him succeeded Baltazar Woodlock, he died in the year of the plague 1650, as Senescall, at which time the city was surrendered to the usurped power, who settled and recd. the revenues of the estate of the said House, since which to Colonell Laurence for 3 years at £30 pel annum, after to Mr. Andrew Lynn for 3 years at £70 per annum, having the tythes of Kilmoyhabe and a garden in Colpeck belonging to the Hospital of the Holy Ghost, to help him in his rent, and after Mr. Thomas Watts, from Mr. Lynn’s times until May last, at £80 per an., and after Mr. Andrew Lynn, who enjoys it to this day, by commission from Dublin, upon what account we know not.

We find that in the year 1641 there was £10 per ann. out of several houses and gardens in St. Stephen’s Parish coming yearly to the said Leaper House, and since these times several of the said houses were ruined, we find that they had tythes of the said Parish of St. Stephen’s besides.
We find that the old House of the Leapers is ruined, and the timber and materials thereof were taken away by Ensign Smart, Robert Woods, and others, and the same with the new House, a thatch house and a garden were sett by the then Commissioners of Revenue to Col. William Leigh at forty shillings a year, who sett them all to Mr. Hall at £4 st. per ann. We find also that Roger Coats, Walter Cantwell and Edmond Leary, masons, took away the tomb stones and paving stones that covered the graves of dead bodies in St. Stephen’s Church, and brought to Lott Leigh’s house to floor his kitchen therewith, and also brought some of the said stones to John Morris’ house, and also some of the said stones to Leftenant-Coll. Leighs Wheeler’s house, where now liveth Coll. Mullor, and also that William Cooper took away the stones of the said church yard.

We find and present that Mr. John Williams had a parcell of hay in St. Stephen’s church, and the rooffe of the said church fell upon the said hay; and he converted the timber thereof in creating a barne near it to his own use. We find and present that the 2/3 of the tythes of Kilbeartane and Ballymoris, in the Parish of ………. and Barony of Middle Third, in the said County of Waterford, did belong to the said House.
We find and present that the whole tythes of Brittas, in the Parish of Drumcannon, doth belong to the said House. We find and present that the parcell of land called Ballycadelan, leading from the Bridge of St. John upon the right hand leading to the meare of Ballytruckle, containing…………acres in parcel of the said Lazar House, with all the houses upon the Hill, and the two parcells called Parckcarraghmore and Parckcarraghbeg, with all the tythes great and small belonging to the said Leaper House. Also that a chapel called St. Mary Maudlin’s Chapel, in possession of John Hevens, who yielded a considerable profit to the sd. Leaper House by the oblation thereof, and turned and converted by John Hevens to a house, which lands and houses were sett for long leases at small rents by the said Lazar House in ancient times, and after when the leases came to the usurped authority they disposed of all these estates as we find to Coll. Laurence, Capt. Warde, Thomas Watts, who held from the Commissioners of Reveuue, at what rents we know not, and how they converted the same we know not, but only this. Thereafter, at present we find Butler’s mill, with the small meadow thereto adjoining, in the possession of Samuel Browne, at the rent of 30/- per annum.

We find a house and garden next to the said mill in the possession of Nicholas McEdmond Cottner, tenant to Capt. Thomas Bolton, at the yearly rent of 50/-. We find a tan house, garden, and yard of tan pitts, late in the possession of John Davis, at the rent of 20/- per ann. A house of Richard Farrell at the rent of 30/-. We find that. John Hevens holds several tan pitts and several houses and 1/2 f acre of land at 20/- per ann. William Hevens, house and garden at £3. Thomas Sherlock, house and garden at £3. Several other cabins, valued at 30/- per ann., upon the hill. A close called Parckcurraghmore, set to Widow Reidy at £3 per ann. Nicholas Lea pays for Parckcurraghbegg and for the house thereon 40/- per ann. ; Walter …….?? for one cabin, 4/- per an. Llachernee Cuffe, for one cabin, 9/- per an. ; John Deimis, for one cabin 4/- per an. ; Nicholas Power, for one cabin, 20/- per an. ; Edmond Walsh FitzRichard, for one cabin, 4/- per an. ; Nicholas Murphy, for one cabin, 4/6 ; Richard Phelan, for one cabin, 4/- per an. ; Job McMorris, for one cabin, 4/- ; Bartolomy White, for one cabin, 20/. Per an. ; James Purcell, for one cabin, 10/- ; five pieces of land going down to the new mill, valued……… ..per an, £3. All the grounds between that and Ballytruck is set by Cart. Thomas Boulter at eleven pounds per an. Lazart Park, held by Mr. Watts, and Little Marsh beyond it southward of, we esteem to be worth £4 per an. Two small pieces of ground adjoining the new mill, with the small island adjoining, we esteem to be worth per an. 20/-. We find the Widow Ruddy pays for her cabin 6/- per an.
We also ……………….there are two Leapers in the Barony of Gallyen, one in Ballynvelly, named Juan McNicholas, and one Denby O’Flyne, of Ballyne Kill, who would not obey.We find and present that Juan Murphy, servt. unto the Widow Bennett, was enfected with the Leprosie, and in the time of the usurped power was presented to the then Commissioners of Revenue, who denyed to give her any releefe, wherefore she miscarried, and dyed a miserable condition. We have summoned Nicholas Walshe and Paul Aylwarde, who denyed to appear before us, as concerning they had most testimony ……………..concerning our charge.

We find and present that we have seen …………….past by the Master, Bretheren, and Sisters of the Lazar House unto John Butler and Nicholas Madden, in fee farm; bearing………………. 1477, of the mill, commonly called Butler’s Mill, with the ……………small meadow and all the land from the Bridge to Mary Maudlin’s Chapel, at 5/- per an., excepting a bean garden which was reserved for the use of the said Leapers’ House.

Published in the Journal of the Waterford & South East of Ireland Archaeological Society c. 1895. All spellings as are in the original document. Where there are dots thus in a sentence, the original script could not be read.