Mont Pelier

Mont Pelier. Leaving this ancient valley at Friarstown, and crossing over by Piperstown, we come to Mont Pelier, or Mount Pelia, as the countr...

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Mont Pelier. Leaving this ancient valley at Friarstown, and crossing over by Piperstown, we come to Mont Pelier, or Mount Pelia, as the countr...

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Mont Pelier.

Leaving this ancient valley at Friarstown, and crossing over by Piperstown, we come to Mont Pelier, or Mount Pelia, as the country people call it. Mont Pelier was probably a fancy name given to this hill by Speaker Conolly when he got possession of it; but hitherto I have not been able to discover its Irish name. It is a prominent, rounded hill, 1,275 feet in height, and well known from the ruin on its summit, called by some “the Kennel,” by others “the Haunted Louse,” and by others “the Hell-fire Club-house.”

This house, now ruined, was built by Speaker Conolly about the year 1725, shortly after he purchased all the estate of the Duke of Wharton, in this neighbourhood. [It was previously reported that the Duke had sold it to Lord Chetwynd for £85,000. See *Letters to and from Bishap Nicolson, *vol. ii, p.527.] It was said that he built it as a point of view from Castletown, where his mansion was. When built, it could only be seen from thence when the sun shone on it! as the hills behind overshadowed it. It was then called “Conolly!s Folly.” Mr. Cooper, who visited it in 1779, says it was then out of repair.

Upon the top of Mont Pelier, from time immemorial, stood a large cairn, similar to those on Seefin and Seeghane Mountains. The limits were composed of great stones set edgeways, which made a sort of wall or boundary; within small stones were heaped up; and in the centre there was a large slab, nine feet long, six feet wide, and three feet thick, not raised upon others, but lying low, with the small stones cleared from around it. There were several other large stones; and about 60 yards south-west stood a pillar-stone about five feet out of the ground. These ancient remains have nearly disappeared. A great portion of the cairn was used in building the house.

I believe the house to have been built as a hunting-lodge. It stands nearly in the centre of an extensive walled-in deer-park. Many portions of the wall are still to be seen; it surrounded nearly the whole hill, and the park contained upwards of 1,000 acres.

The house consisted of two large rooms and a hall on an upper floor. These rooms are 16 feet square, each of them lighted by two tall windows, almost eight feet by three feet six inches, commanding a most extensive and magnificent view. There are two arched niches at each side of the rooms, with large fireplaces. Over the parlour and hall there was a small loft, but none over the drawing-room. The hall-door was reached by a lofty flight of stone steps; these, with most of the other cut granite stones about the house, were taken away at the time of the building of Lord Ely’s hunting-lodge, lower down the hill.

Underneath the drawing-room was the kitchen, where the jambs of the great fireplace, ten feet wide, are still to be seen. There was a servants’ hall at the other side, and there were two rooms built out at each end of the house. There were also two small apartments in a return opposite the hall-door. The windows all face the north, for in the rear there are only a few narrow slits like embrasures. A semi-circular courtyard was in front with a gate in the centre. The walls are all very thick, built carelessly of rubble stone. The arched roof is of stone, as are the floors. It is said the roof was first slated, but the wind blew the slates off. The people said the devil would never let a roof remain on it, in consequence of the desecration of the cairn.

Squire Conolly would, however, not be conquered by devil or wind. He built an arched roof with large stones placed edgeways, and filled to a smooth surface with smaller stones and mortar. So well was this done, that much of it remains to the present, in spite of its exposed situation and of its never having been repaired. Indeed, on the contrary, every stone that could be taken was used in building walls and fences.

The roof was also much damaged in 1849, when the Queen was in Dublin; for a great number of tar-barrels were lighted on it, which made a grand bonfire, but split many of the stones.

When the old house was first finished, it must have been a substantial, comfortable-looking place. Now, alas! it is a mere ruin, each winter hastening its decay. It is only used as a shelter for cattle. The lower rooms are half filled with manure and rubbish. The stone staircase, that I remember inside, is all gone; and the cattle can no longer ascend to the drawing-rooms, as they used to do. The only way of getting to these rooms now is by climbing up the front wall to the hall-door; while the room in the return is almost inaccessible, except to an active climber.

The tradition that the Hell-fire Club held some of their meetings here may have been founded on fact. That mysterious and iniquitous assembly existed about the time this house was built; and a member of the Club then lived not far off.

Lower down the hill, about half a mile to the northwest, there are the extensive ruins of Mont Pelier House, formerly called Dolly Mount, once a grand hunting-lodge of Charles, Earl of Ely, who was advanced to the dignity of Marquis of Ely in 1800, in consideration of his vote and influence in passing the celebrated Union Bill. He received also £45,000 as compensation for the disfranchisement of his borough. This is, however, outside my story, which concerns Dolly Mount, or the “Long House,” as it is generally now called. I consider the house was built by Henry, Earl of Ely. His first wife was Frances Monroe, probably sister of the celebrated Dolly Monroe, whose portrait, by Angelica Kauffman, once graced the walls of Rathfarnham Castle. [This portrait is now in the National Gatlery, to which it was presented in 1878 by John Henry, fourth Marquis of Ely.] This lady, being the reigning beauty of Dublin, is said to have captivated the heart of Lord Townshend, the then Viceroy.

A contemporary writer says “Her stature was majestic, and her air and demeanour were nature itself. The peculiar splendour of her carriage was softened by the most affable condescension; and as sensibility gave a lustre to her eye, so discretion gave security to her heart; and while her charms inspired universal rapture, the authority of her innocence regulated and restrained. The softest roses that ever youth and modesty poured out on beauty glowed on the lips of Dorothea. Her cheeks wore the bloom of Hebe, and the purity of Diana was in her breast. Never did beauty appear so amiable a virtue, so adorned as in this incomparable virgin.” After this paragon, this place was called Dolly Mount, which name it bore for many years.

A man named Brady, whose father was alive when the house was building, told me that the cut granite window-sills and door-steps were removed here from the old building on the top of the hill, and that all the men that could be collected round the country were employed in the work. It would appear from his statement that Charles, Earl, and afterwards Marquis, of Ely, completed the building; for most of Brady’s stories related to that nobleman. Lord Ely employed three teams of bullocks in subsoiling, and frequently rode up from his castle at Rathfarnham to see how they were getting on. When the planting of the timber was finished, he said to them, ” If I live until these trees are large enough to make a coffin for me; I will make gentlemen of you all; but I am going to do an act that Ireland will ever rue.” He alluded to his signing the petition for the Union; so this occurrence must have been before 1800.

The house was two stories high in front, with bow-windows on each side of the hall-door, over which were the Ely arms, carved in stone. The rooms were lofty and well-proportioned, with marble chimney-pieces and beautifully stuccoed ceilings. The windows commanded a lovely view of the County Dublin, with its countless villas, and of the city overhung with a smoky cloud. Beyond it gleamed the bright waters of Dublin Bay; and in the distance lay Howth, Ireland’s Eye, Lambay, and the coast-line-a glorious prospect on a fine clear day. On each side of the house were large arched gateways, surmounted by stone balls weighing about five cwt [In 1880, Mr. Handcock bought these balls from Mr. Carty, and had them conveyed to Sally Park. One of them had lain for some months in the stream below the “Long House,” into which it had been rolled by the boys of the neighbourhood.].

On the sides of each of the gateways were long wings, formerly containing servants’ apartments and stables. At each end stood a square three-story tower, with castellated walls and Gothic windows. The whole front was about 120 yards in length. Behind the house were extensive out-offices, kennels, barns, haggard, and all the requirements of a great hunting establishment. These were well walled in, and had a back entrance, from which a paved road went up the hill towards Piperstown.

A grove of trees surrounded the house. On the slope of the hill, about 300 or 400 yards off; there was a wood, principally of Scotch firs and larch, which grew so close that daylight could scarcely penetrate. From its commanding situation and extent, it must have been one of the finest places in the county. Alas! how changed it is now. As the Ely family were absentees, this place and the old castle of Rathfarnham were greatly neglected.

A tenant named Jack Kelly cut down all the trees, and sold them. The house with any care would have remained in good repair and quite habitable. The yearly tenant assisted the ravages of time to the best of his ability. He stripped the lead off the roof, and sold it. As the floors rotted with the damp, he used them and all the other woodwork in the house for firewood. He took the marble slabs of the chimney-pieces for thresholds and lintels for piggeries. In fact, he systematically destroyed the whole place, so that no one should ever live there again, and disturb his tenancy.

In 1780 the rental of this place and its farm was £570; now it is only £167. Its woods must have been a great improvement to the appearance of the hill. The only trees which now remain are at the eastern side, where the Killakee woods lie, and also lower down the nearly circular belt of planting which surrounds Orlagh. [On the 29th January, 1875, part of the manor, town, and lands of Rathfarnham, called Mont Pelier, and part of Woodtown and Killakee, portion of the estate of the Marquis of Ely, were sold in the Landed Estates Court to Mr. William Sealy for £2,750.]

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