Tag Archives: Tipperary

Ballintemple, Tipperary. Gravestone Photos K-T

Ballintemple, Tipperary.  Gravestone photos

Stones for surnames K-T in Ballintemple graveyard

Ballintemple,
Tipperary.


Ballintemple Tipperary, Gravestone photos A-H
Ballintemple Tipperary, Gravestone photos K-T

These 89 photographs of gravestones in Ballintemple, Tipperary, were taken in Feb 2009.  I did not photograph the whole graveyard and for the most part I did photograph stones which could be read to some extent

The surnames which are on the gravestones in Ballintemple, Tipperary are given as the names of the gravestones. Each stone will have a number on it indicating the number of times that the first surname has been found on any gravestone in this graveyard in Ballingarry, e.g. if a stone had the surname Lyons as the first surname on the stone then the stone becomes Lyons 1.  If another stone with the surname Lyons on it is found in a different plot then this becomes Lyons 2.  If there are other surnames on the stone then these surnames come after the number.
The letters a, b or others after a number indicate that there were a number of gravestones on one plot and these all belong together

We are giving you close up images of the gravestones in some instances.  All gravestone photographs are reduced in size in order to allow us have copies of all photographs on this site.  We have a full photograph of each stone as well as the close ups.  From-Ireland.net charge 3 Euro to email you a copy of a photograph or set of photographs.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Ballintemple, Tipperary. Gravestone photos

Ballintemple, Tipperary.  Gravestone photos

Stones for surnames A-H in Ballintemple graveyard

Ballintemple,
Tipperary.


Ballintemple Tipperary, Gravestone photos A-H
Ballintemple Tipperary, Gravestone photos K-T

These 89 photographs of gravestones in Ballintemple, Tipperary, were taken in Feb 2009.  I did not photograph the whole graveyard and for the most part I did photograph stones which could be read to some extent

The surnames which are on the gravestones in Ballintemple, Tipperary are given as the names of the gravestones. Each stone will have a number on it indicating the number of times that the first surname has been found on any gravestone in this graveyard in Ballingarry, e.g. if a stone had the surname Lyons as the first surname on the stone then the stone becomes Lyons 1.  If another stone with the surname Lyons on it is found in a different plot then this becomes Lyons 2.  If there are other surnames on the stone then these surnames come after the number.
The letters a, b or others after a number indicate that there were a number of gravestones on one plot and these all belong together

We are giving you close up images of the gravestones in some instances.  All gravestone photographs are reduced in size in order to allow us have copies of all photographs on this site.  We have a full photograph of each stone as well as the close ups.  From-Ireland.net charge 3 Euro to email you a copy of a photograph or set of photographs.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

Contact From-Ireland.net to purchase a High Quality JPG of any gravestone for €3.00.

The Moon at Clonmel by C.J. Boland

THE MOON AT CLONMEL
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

St. Mary’s Church, Clonmel, Co. Tipperary

The Church of St. Mary’s is a very ancient and highly picturesque structure. In its present re-edified state it is, perhaps, the most beautiful of the parochial churches of Ireland; and it is to be regretted that while its original foundation seems completely buried in obscurity, so little is known of its after-history down to comparatively recent times. And yet that old church was the scene of some remarkable events – perhaps the most remarkable being the visit of the famous Dr. Brown, Archbishop of Dublin, who came in 1593, and preached before the Archbishops of Cashel and Tuam, and eight of the Bishops, and also in the presence of an immense popular audience, a sermon “advancing the King’s supremacy.” Then there was, in the following century, the enthronement of the famous Bishop Gore, whose valuable bequest in aid of “ruinated churches” was lately rescued from an adverse possession, and secured to this diocese for all time, mainly through the zealous and persistent efforts of the present Rector of Dunmore, the Rev. Thos. Gimlette, D.D.; and latest of all, the very first episcopal election after the passing of the Church Disestablishment Act was held within those walls, when the present Lord Bishop of Cashel, Maurice Fitzgerald Day, was elected.


St. Mary’s occupies what may be termed the north-western angle of the ancient borough; and stands in the centre of an extensive and beautiful enclosure, now overcrowded with “the habitations of the dead.” The churchyard, with its shady avenues of venerable trees, is enclosed on the north and west sides by the remains of the ancient town walls; the recessed arches in these walls are filled in with granite or marble monuments – while with their parapets are connected three of the old watch-towers belonging to the original fortifications. They are rather quadrangular in shape, and are pierced with narrow windows, evidently of great antiquity.

As to the church itself, its age can only be approximately arrived at from a careful inspection of its older parts. Probably it should be ascribed to the twelfth century ; and it is said that St. Mary’s was built just two-and-thirty years before the Abbey of Holycross.

The church was re-edified in 1805, partly by subscription, when the style was totally changed, the chancel, amongst other alterations, having been considerably diminished in length ; while the Corporation Gallery, emblazoned in front with the Clonmel arms, in oak, and erected on the north side, was then swept away.

In 1857 the church was all but entirely rebuilt in pointed style of the thirteenth century, and a new transept was afterwards added, on the north side.

“On entering the interior of the church itself, one is immediately struck with the elegant simplicity of the structure. The architecture is pointed, and, unlike the interior of the old church, the style is strictly carried out in the pillars, arches, and all the mouldings and omaments of the building. The light and elegant proportions of the pillars and arches, with the absence of side galleries, and the height of the open roof, give an effect of simple grandeur that is most impressive. Seven pillars divide the nave from the lateral aisles – which, with the wall of the tower and the terminal walls of the building, support nine arches, a tenth forming the entrance to a small southern transept; which has been opened in the tower. The pillars are of white sand-stone – the mouldings, the shields, and corbels supporting the principals and spandrils of the roof, being all in character. The chancel has not been altered; it is nearly as wide as the nave, but not so lofty, the roof of the latter being 56 feet 6 inches from the floor. The beautiful arches at either side, enriched with chevron ornaments, foliated capitals, and corbelled out with grotesques and sculptured heads; the groined roof, with diagonal and central ogives, and the exquisite tracery of the eastern stained-glass window, form a picture in this building not to be surpassed by any parish church in the country.” – Abbeys, Castles, and Scenery of Clonmel: Hemphill.

Some further improvements have since been made n the body of the church, including a beautiful pulpit, of Caen stone, resting upon a group of dwarf red Galway marble pillars, which has been erected as a memorial of the Rev. F. T. Brady, rector of the parish, who died in 1874.

Of the original architecture now remaining, the most prominent feature is the great eastern window, with its fine Gothic tracery, filled in with stained glass. A strange story is told about this same window. When, early in the present century, they set about pulling down and re-modelling the chancel-cutting off about thirty feet at the eastern end, and taking in at the opposite end that portion of the nave which had been screened off as useless – it became necessary, in the course of these changes, to take down the great old window; but alas! the person to whom this important work was entrusted forgot to make provision for its re-erection; and when the numerous blocks of stone mullions were strewn about, it was found impossible to place them together again in their former position. A timber window was substituted; while the old sculptured tracery lay scattered in all directions, half hidden amongst the graves by the long grass and rank vegetation. Some few years after an English tourist happened to visit our ancient churchyard, and, being struck with admiration at the beauty of these fragments of the old window, procured a skilled architect, who had them collected together, and the window itself restored according to the original design. It was filled in with stained glass during the churchwardenship of Messrs. Robert Romley and Samuel Morton Tuckey.

The steeple at the south-eastern angle of the church consists of a square basement of great antiquity, with a narrow spiral stone staircase in the walls, leading to a second storey: and an octagonal superstructure some sixty or seventy feet high, pierced in the upper part with eight louvred openings, in the form of Gothic windows, to allow free transmission for the chiming of the bells hung within. Five of these bells, supposed to have been cast in Clonmel, were placed in the steeple nearly two centuries ago; one of them, however, either fell or was taken down, and sold some time since as old metal – so that but four are now in position. Around each bell a legend is traced in raised but now rust-eaten letters. The names of the donors and the date (1697) are given in the inscription.

AI the north-east angle of the church was the Lady’s chapel, but so altered as to represent a massive embattled structure. At the south-west corner there formerly stood a small building, in correct style, known the private chapel of the White family. It cannot be more than seventy or eighty years since the removal of this chapel, after it had become unroofed, and had fallen into complete decay. The appearance it presented in its ruined stage was described by one,now some years deceased, who remembered to have looked, when a boy, through its broken windows. He saw the long grass and rank vegetation that choked up the interior, hiding partly from view the richly sculptured tombs and tablets which, in silent language, seemed to tell the old, old story – “Sic transit gloria mundi!” Some of these monuments were carried off to enrich other buildings, while the western window in the present porch of St. Mary’s once lighted the ancient chapel of the Whites. Three inscribed monuments belonging to this family, which are supposed to have originally belonged to this chapel, are now laid in the centre aisle of the church, near the chancel. They date from A.D. 1583. Two others were removed eighty or ninety years ago to decorate the little ruined chaple near St. Patrick’s Well. A sixth tablet, containing, the arms and insignia of a “Mayor of Clonmel” (1608), found its way, we are informed, to the Roman Catholic churchyard, Irishtown, long since, where for five-and-twenty years it served as a doorstep; fortunately it lay in a reversed position, with its face downwards, and this kept the inscription and armorial bearings free from becoming obliterated. It is now carefully preserved from injury.

Returning to St. Mary’s Church, there is in the south aisle a finely sculptured slab of fine grey limestone, now partly covered by the flooring of a pew. It bears this inscription :-

” Hic jacet Joannes Stritche burgensis huius oppidi qui obiit 25 Maii, 1622 ; et Margareta Daniel alias Smithe uxor eius qUae hoe monumentum superstes in memoriam dicti Joanis fieri fecit Ao. Dm. 1625 qUae obiit — quoru. animabus propitietur Deus.”

[Translation]
“Here lies John Stritche, a burgess of this walled-in town, who died the 25th May 1622; and Margaret Daniel, alias Smith, his wife, who, surviving, caused this monument to be erected in memory of the said John; who died — : to whose souls may God be propitious.”

The devoted wife left nothing to be added to this inscription but the date of her own death, for which a blank was left: that space has never been filled in.

In excavating the flooring of the church during the course of some improvement works about forty years ago, the entrance to a vault was discovered at the east end of the south aisle, immediately near Stritche’s tomb. Upon further search a skeleton was found enncased in armour, a portion of which was secretly removed. The then rector of the parish, the Rev. J. P. Rhoades, having learned of this sacrilegious act, had the stolen armour returned and replaced in the vault, which was then closed up; the place has not since been opened. We are assured of the truth of this singular discovery by a gentleman (Mr. B. P. Phelan, J.P.), who remembers to have seen the mail-clad skeleton. There are, besides these memorials of the past several beautiful white marble monuments erected within the church – the principal are those of Dr. Jos. Moore, for sixty-six years rector of the parish; and of several members of the Bagwell family of Marlfield.

The parish of Innislonagh, Marlfield, has been added to the Diocesan Synod to St. Mary’s, to form the Parochial Union of Clonmel.

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

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 :-

“HIS MAJESTY GRANTS

” ‘ 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 :-
WILLIAM STANLEY
MAYOR OF CLONMEL
1631(1)

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