The 1850s was the decade of the Great Exhibitions. The London Crystal Palace Exhibition in 1851 was followed by Dublin and New York in 1853 and Paris in 1855. In Ireland there were regional/city exhibitions including in Cork (1852). It must be remembered that Ireland was still struggling to emerge from the disaster of the Great Famine.
The Great Industrial Exhibition of 1853 was the most ambitious exhibition ever held in Ireland up to that time. Staged in Dublin from 12 May to 31 October 1853, it was inspired by the famous Great Exhibition in London and was intended to showcase industry, technology, art, and manufacturing while encouraging economic development in Ireland. One of the developments of partcular interest was to copy the emergnce of Monster Houses (department stores) that began to appear in cities throughout Western Europe and the USA from the 1840s.
The exhibition aimed to move Ireland away from solely agricultural production towards industrialisation, promoting a shift toward Victorian consumer culture.
[Congratulations to Birr Historical Society on the reprint of Cooke’s first book on Birr published in 1826 and launched on 5 August 2026. Ed.]
I grew up on a small farm beside Lemanaghan Bog, and to this day I can still feel the rhythm of those summers spent wandering up and down the lane that led from our 150 year old farm house to the bog. It wasn’t just a lane, it was an enchanted corridor. The hedges were alive with native flora and fauna, and as children we were convinced there was something mystical about that stretch of road. Maybe it was the way the light filtered through the trees and hedges or the rustle of wings from creatures we could never quite see. Whatever it was, it shaped our imaginations long before we understood the world beyond it.
From the top of the lane, the view swept across the bog all the way to the Kinnitty Mountains which is what we called them then, though of course they are the Slieve Blooms. Their colour changed with the weather: soft blues on warm days, deep purples in the evenings, and that unmistakable dark, heavy shade that meant rain was on the way. Some days they felt close enough to touch, other days they drifted away like a dream. That shifting landscape was the backdrop of our childhood.
I was lucky, truly lucky, to grow up with my grandparents. Not everyone gets that gift. They filled our days with stories, traditions, and the kind of work that didn’t feel like work until you were old enough to realise it was. As a small children on the bog, we were more of a hindrance than a help, too busy chasing frogs, spotting bog lizards, or watching butterflies and dragonflies dance over the bog waters. If you had to go in evening, you would get ate alive by midges and it would cause great distress but of course knowing that they are a vital food source in a healthy ecosystem, was good reason enough to put up. It was magical, and we didn’t know it then, but those were the moments that would stay with us for life.
Of course, when you got older, the magic didn’t excuse you from the reality of saving turf. As the saying went, “If you want to keep your arse warm for the winter, you need to help save the turf.” At the time, I thought it was hardship. Other families didn’t have to go to the bog, and I envied them. But looking back now, I see it differently. Those balmy summer days, the laughter, the bottles of water buried in a bog hole to keep cool, the quiet companionship, they were some of the happiest times of my life.
A Landscape Layered with Time
What makes Lemanaghan truly extraordinary is not just its beauty or its wildlife, but the sheer depth of history held within its soil. This landscape is a tapestry woven from thousands of years of human presence — Mesolithic hunter‑gatherers, Neolithic farmers, early Christian monks, medieval pilgrims, and the families who still live here today. All of these eras sit side by side, layered gently through the bog, preserved in a way that few places in Ireland can match.
Across the bog, the old toghers still lie beneath the surface — wooden trackways built by our ancestors to cross the wetlands long before roads existed. Some date back to prehistory, others to the early Christian period. In recent years they’ve been called pilgrim paths or mass paths, but whatever name they carry, they are proof of continuous life, movement, and devotion across this landscape. These paths connect us to places of deep significance like Clonmacnoise and the Hill of Tara and are the only remaining paths from our past that we have. They need to be protected. Generations walked these routes with purpose: to travel, to worship, to trade, to survive. When you stand on the bog today, you are standing on the same ground they crossed.
One discovery in particular brought this ancient world sharply into focus. In 1998, part of a bog body was uncovered in the townland of Tumbeagh. It was a remarkable archaeological find — a direct connection to a person who lived and died here centuries or even millennia ago. Maybe a native to the are or a pilgrim who lost their way. But the circumstances of the discovery were a stark reminder of the cost of industrial peat extraction. The body was found during the milling of peat, and some of the remains had already been sent to a power station and burned as fuel before anyone realised what they were. It was heartbreaking, and it showed clearly that these peatlands are not wastelands or empty spaces waiting to be exploited. They are sacred ground, holding the stories and the bones of our ancestors, much like the recent discovery back in January 2025 at Mella’s Cell when storm Éowyn swept through the land and with it, it brought down trees in Mellas Cell. Yet another discovery was made. Human remains from over a thousand years ago were uncovered. This was the first time it was realised that this was in fact a sacred burial grounds. These ancient trees had managed to fall but avoided falling on the remaining structure of Mella’s Cell as luck would truly have it.
The Changing Bog
When Bord na Móna took over the bogs, the land began to shift in ways we didn’t fully understand at the time. Drains were cut long before harvesting began. My granddad was deeply uneasy about it. He knew — instinctively, from a lifetime on the land, that this kind of change wasn’t good for the landscape. But compulsory purchase orders came, and people had no choice. You accepted it and got on with it, because that’s what rural people did.
Over the years, natural springs and wells that had flowed for generations dried up. Water tables dropped. Getting water to cattle became a more difficult task. The land we knew began to alter under our feet. And yet, for many families, Bord na Móna meant jobs, stability, a way to support children. It was a trade-off that people felt they had to endure it seems.
But there were other consequences too. Fires on the bog were not unusual, especially during long hot spells. Many of them were never acknowledged by Bord na Móna, even when the community knew exactly how they had started. The most recent major fire in the late 2010s is still fresh in people’s minds. We were not long moved into our new house when it happened. Homes were filled with smoke, belongings destroyed, and yet when people reached out for help, nothing was done. That memory lingers — not just the damage, but the feeling of being dismissed.
A Community Under Threat Again
And now, here we are again.
The community around Lemanaghan Bog is facing another upheaval, this time in the form of a proposed wind farm: fifteen turbines, each 220 metres tall, right through the heart of the bog. People are angry, upset, and deeply worried. The consultation process felt deceitful from the start. A semi‑state body has enormous power, and they know it. They can pressure, divide, and buy silence. What was once a company rooted in community has become something unrecognisable, one determined in causing division and willing to fracture the very places and people it once relied on. These places have helped people heal in the greatest time of need and I can vouch for that personally. In times of grief, all one needs sometimes is solace and time to reflect and remember in peace. Lemanaghan Bog gives us all of that reminding us each of our life times are short and that we are connected through generations that went before us and their presence is still there it just appears in a different form. In that there is comfort.
For many of us, especially during COVID, the bog was our sanctuary. It was the one place we could walk freely, breathe deeply, and feel grounded. It is still the most peaceful place you could wander. But if the machinery comes — the diggers, the cranes, the convoys of lorries — that peace will be shattered. The wildlife that has survived generations of change will be displaced. The delicate ecology of the bog will be torn apart. And all the “surveys” carried out over a few rushed days here and there will never capture the depth of local knowledge that has been passed down through families like in our communities.
Our fear is simple: that once again, the people who live here — who love this place, who understand it — will be ignored. And if the project becomes inconvenient, BnM will simply sell it on, as they have done in other areas, leaving the community to deal with the consequences. There are some things that money simply can not buy and connection is one.
Growing up beside Lemanaghan Bog taught me the value of land, heritage, and memory. It taught me that these landscapes hold stories, and that communities are shaped by the places they belong to. What worries me now is that those stories — our stories rich in heritage— are at risk of being drowned out by decisions made far away by people who will never walk that enchanted lane or watch the Slieve Blooms change colour with the weather.
All we want is to protect the place that shaped us. You don’t need to be deeply religious or even believe in anything in particular, but when you have a deep connection with the land that you live upon, you just know that an area is not suitable for what is being forced upon it. I believe that our ancestors will rise to help us whether it is to show people that they need to lay off and choose more suitable places to build their energy plants. This is not suitable or natural place for industrial wind farms. We need to protect our peatlands.
A few years back I met up with some members of the Offaly diaspora in the Gresham Hotel, Dublin, for coffee, and we had a reflective chat about the Faithful County. My fellow aficionados were Laura Price and the late Dr. Michael J.S. Egan. Dr. Egan, a truly wonderful Offaly man, raised the idea of marking the termans at Clonmacnoise.
While I had grown up in the area I had never heard the expression. He explained it was the point where funeral corteges paused on the way to the cemetery. I was well aware of the practice, for as a child in the area every funeral paused at what was called the `coffin bush`. I have enquired from local folk and found nobody had used the expression in this context.
Tullamore is situated in the civil parish of Kildbride with 28 townlands and so too is the town of Clara with 19 townlands. Both parishes have a connection with the churches dedicated to Saint Brigid. Now Ireland mark the saint’s day on 1st of February with a public holiday, the beginning of spring and the celebration of Lá Fhéile Bríde, St Brigid’s Day.
These are the only townlands in Offaly dedicated by name to a church associated with Saint Brigid.
Kilbride (Cill Bhríde) , Kilbride Civil Parish, Barony of Ballycowan, Co. Offaly 193 A, 3 R, 20 P
Kilbride (Cill Bhríde) , Kilbride Civil Parish, Barony of Kilcoursey, Co. Offaly 146 A, 2 R, 30 P
The proximity of the two parishes often leads to confusion especially when tracing soldiers of the First World War who gave their place of birth as the civil parish of Kilbride without distinguishing wherether it was Clara or Tullamore.
To the east of both towns is Croghan Hill associated by some scholars with the birthplace of St Brigid. John O’Donovan was well aware of the association of the hill with the legend and cult of St Brigid and wrote of it in the Ordnance Survey letters. The Ordnance Survey Letters for County Offaly form part of a countrywide series, are commonly known as O’Donovan’s Ordnance Survey Letters.
The Ordnance Survey Letters for Offaly of 1837-1838 represent the first attempt on a systematic basis to collect material on Offaly’s historical and archaeological remains. The pioneering effort of the Ordnance Survey and of its topographical department, in particular, was not emulated until the publication some 150 years later of the Archaeological Inventory of County Offaly by Caimin O’Brien and P. David Sweetman. O’Donovan’s Ordnance Survey Letters are in manuscript form in the Royal Irish Academy and were published in a typescript by Fr. Michael Flanagan in 1933. The late Professor Michael Herity edited the volume of letters for Offaly and this book is available from the Society and can be ordered online at our shop at www.offalyhistory, or consulted at Offaly History Centre.
Civil parish of Kilbride, Tullamore from Townlands.ieCivil parish of Kilbride, Clara from Townlands.ie
The Offaly material consists of fifty-one letters of John O’Donovan and of Thomas O’Conor. O’Conor, a native of Carrickmacross, was assistant to O’Donovan. Both men had spent September, October and November of 1837 in County Westmeath and in late December of 1837 their attentions turned to Offaly, then and until 1920 called King’s County. The letters concern local antiquities, placenames, early Irish history and the genealogy of the native families
It should be noted that in the Westmeath letters volume are one of John O’Donovan’s from Tullamore and another from Edenderry. That from Tullamore is dated 1st January 1838 and could properly be in the King’s County volume. A list of the fifty-one letters concerning King’s County written over the period from 18 December 1837 to 11 February 1838 with the inclusion of two letters about Durrow, that of October 1837 and the second written on 1 January 1838.
O’Donovan wrote of the legends associated with St Brigid as follows:
St. Briget was consecrated a Bishop.
(Father Bollandus complains of the silliness of the writers of the lives of the Celtic Saints; and the Benedictines complain of the folly even of St. Jerome and Augustin!.)
“Bridget was desirous that a degree of Penance (gradh Aithrighe) should be conferred upon her. Hearing that Bishop Mel was at Bri Éle (Croghan old Church) she repaired thither, accompanied by seven nuns. But on their arrival the Bishop was not there, but had gone into the Country of the Hy Niall “terra nepotum Neill” (Meath). On the morrow she passed in search of him in company with Mac Caille (the Bishop of Brig-Ele) who guided her over the bog of Monaidh Fathing, which she converted into a flowery plain. When they had come close to the Town (baile) where Bishop Mel was, Briget told Mac Caille (Macaleus) to put (place) a veil on her head, that she did not wish to appear unveiled before the clergy. Upon her arrival a pillar (column, a glory?) of fire sprung rose, shot out) from her head, reaching even to the roof of the church. When Bishop Mel had seen this, he asked: “Who are the Nuns”? Mac Caille answered: “This is Briget, the celebrated Nun of Leinster.”
“My affection to her, said Bishop Mel, it was I who predicted her greatness, even while she was in her mother’s womb, and it is I who will confer orders on her.”
“This (gloss) alludes to one occasion that Bishop Mel came to the house of her father, Dubhthach; he saw the wife of Dubhthach grieved and sorrowful, and he asked whence the cause of her sorrow. I have cause of sorrow, said she, for Dubhthach admires (loves) the handmaid who attends. This is just (meet, dethbhir) said Bishop Mel, for thy seed shall serve (obey) the seed of this handmaid, alluding to Bridget.” (Bridget was illegitimate, but not the worse Bishop for that, and —-).
“Then Mac Caille placed a veil (caille, cowl) on the head of Briget. Wherefore, from that day to this, the Coarb (successor) of St. Briget (Abbess of Kildare) is entitled to receive the grade (dignity, orders) of a Bishop.”
“Wherefore have the Nuns come? said Bishop Mel. To have orders of Penance conferred on Bridget, said Mac Caille. Then he conferred orders on Briget, and it was the orders of (gradha eps.) a Bishop, that Bishop Mel conferred upon her!”
(Columbkille intended to get himself made a Bishop, but the Consecrator made him only a Priest by mistake. The authorities of the Irish Bulls Begins with Brian Boru).
“While St. Briget was being ordained, she held the foot of the altar (the altar was like a little table) in her hand; and (since that time) seven churches were burned down, in which this altar was, but it received no injury from the fire: Sed servata est per gratiam (favor) Brigidae. Dicunt alii, that this Church, to which Bishop Mel had gone, is in Feratullach. Ita ut alii putant.” (Fartullagh is near Bri Ele). – Liber Maculatus, Leabhar Breac, Fol. 31.
Colgan was ashamed of this. Cogitosus has not a word about it, or if he has, Colgan has suppressed it. I don’t laugh at these stories, for I think they are very nice if they were well told.[1]
For more on the Saint Brigid story see the Noel Kissane Life in the online Dictionary of Irish Biography. Some extracts below
The Brigit story Brigit was the daughter of Dubthach son of Deimre, a nobleman or military leader. He was of the Uí Bressail (Rawl. B. 502, 126a 28), a sept of the Fothairt, a subject people located in the present Co. Offaly, but with branches elsewhere. Brigit’s mother was named Broicsech; she is presented in alternative accounts as Dubthach’s wife (Cogitosus) or slave. When Broicsech becomes pregnant by Dubthach, in the scenario where she is a slave he sells her to a poet but retains ownership of the unborn child. The poet later sells Broicsech to a druid (magus) in whose house Broicsech gives birth to Brigit, who is born with the status of a slave. The location is not stated; claims for Faughart, Co. Louth are based on late medieval tradition. The druid kindly allows Brigit to live with her father Dubthach whose house was seemingly located in the area east of Cruachan Breg Éile (Croghan Hill, Co. Offaly). She is particularly involved with dairying and looking after the cattle, activities commonly represented in her iconography. She is especially kind to the poor and performs various miracles on their behalf. Her father and brothers want her to marry a suitor, but she refuses as she is committed to a celibate life in the service of God. Her father eventually allows her to take the veil. The ceremony is performed, according to different accounts, by one or other of the bishops Mel (qv) (d. 487) or Mac-Caille (qv) (d. c.489), the location probably being in Mag Tulach (the present barony of Fartullagh, Co. Westmeath).
Croghan Hill, County Offaly, associated with the Life of St Brigid
Brigit is said to have established a convent at Kildare, but the Lives are silent regarding the date and the circumstances. ….
The hagiography of St Brigit is typically Christian and it echoes the Old and New Testaments, the Apocrypha and the early Fathers. It presents her as wise, humane, charitable to a fault, and concerned with the welfare of the common people. She is in constant communion with the Lord and is a prolific worker of miracles, which are almost invariably attributed to divine intervention and often have precedents in the New Testament. Many of the miracles and other aspects of the Lives, however, seem to reflect pagan religion or superstition; for example, the story of Brigit’s origin features a poet and a druid, both from classes with important functions in pre-Christian society; her suitor is the fictional poet Dubthach (qv) of the moccu Lugair, who is represented in seventh-century literature as a pagan who converts to Christianity; the only milk she can tolerate as a child is that of a white red-eared cow; and she resolves an unwanted pregnancy as if by magic. A notable feature of the Lives is a preoccupation with fire and light: a column of light rises from Brigit’s head; she hangs her cloak on a sunbeam to dry; the house in which she is asleep catches fire but remains intact. .
Folklore Echoes of pre-Christian religion and superstition are also intrinsic features of the folklore associated with St Brigit. Her feast-day (Lá Fhéile Bríde) on 1 February coincides with the pagan festival of Imbolc, one of the four quarter days of the pagan year, which marked the beginning of spring, lambing, and lactation in cattle. The feast of a saint was normally celebrated on the anniversary of the death, but there is no evidence that Brigit died on 1 February. Cogitosus states that she did, but the context suggests that his only evidence was her feast-day. In any case, the celebration of St Brigit’s feast-day retained various features of the pagan festival, including probably the straw or rush crosses, believed to bring luck to the home and the byre, and the strips of cloth representing Brat Bhríde (St Brigit’s mantle) which were claimed to protect virginity, cure barrenness, and relieve women in labour. The ceremonial often included visits to Brigit’s wells, some of which were thought to cure sterility. While much of the imagery relating to Imbolc was probably censored or Christianised at an early date, some of the folk customs associated with St Brigit’s Day retained explicit references to sexuality and fertility. Séamas Ó Catháin has identified parallels in the international folklore of northern Europe, especially that of Scandinavia, which suggests that the cult of the goddess was widespread and tenacious.
See also the Dictionary of Irish Saints by Pádraig Ó Riain below from the 2011 edition:
There is little doubt that contact by sailors from Norway had occurred over many years in the 8th and 9th centuries between the islands of northern Scotland, the east coast of England and with Ireland. Most of these sailors would have been fishermen or traders and would have acquired details of the Irish coastline, location of rivers and awareness of monastic sites. This intelligence was readily available when the Viking raiders came calling.
Tony Lucas in his paper on the plundering of Irish churches makes the point that of the 309 ecclesiastical sites that were plundered between 600 and 1163AD, the Irish themselves were responsible for 139 of these. Only 140 of these can be directly attributed to the Vikings and 19 raids are attributed to the Irish and Norse together. An entry in the Annals of Ulster for 755 records ‘The burning of Cluain Moccu Nóis on the twelfth of the Kalends of April’ by the Irish long before the arrival of any Viking.
What? The course will give an overview of the sources and methods for the study of the archaeology, community and family history of County Offaly, and how to do research on areas that may interest you in local and family history. Thematic sessions will be delivered by experienced local scholars, who will introduce participants both to physical sources and to online resources. Offaly is taken as the example, but most of the records will have application for the entire country.
When? All talks will be held on Wednesday nights, from 7.30 to 9.30 pm.
Where? Offaly History Centre, Bury Quay, Tullamore, Co. Offaly, R35 Y5V0
Fees? The course fee for all ten sessions is €50, payable to the Offaly Heritage Centre at the time of booking. Please provide your credit or debit card details when booking, or visit the shop Monday–Friday, 9:30 am–4:30 pm.
Alternatively, payment can be made by bank transfer: Best contact us first as only a few places are left.
This course is supported by the Heritage Council and Offaly County Council. Places are limited to 25 participants, so early booking is strongly advised.
Please call or email us to check availability and make your booking
Alongside John O’Donovan and Eugene O’Curry the name of George Petrie (1790–1866) will forever be remembered as one of Ireland’s greatest scholars of the first half of the nineteenth century. It was a time when tremendous work was done for Irish archaeology and history. Petrie was a major figure in the historical research section of the Ordnance Survey. Jeanne Sheehy in her The Rediscovery of Ireland’s Past 1830–1930 states that he was the founder of systematic and scientific archaeology in Ireland.
Petrie was involved in the work of the Ordnance Survey from 1833 for ten years. He was very much a polymath and in his late years published a volume of Irish music arising from his efforts to collect and preserve old Irish music.
Saturday 21 JuneVisit to Westmeath andFore with Rory Masterson. Depart Tullamore at 10. a.m. Car sharing from Bury Quay let us know your needs.
St. Féichín’s Church by Rory Masterson, our guide
The walk will consist of a walk to St. Féichín’s church that was the church of the old monastery founded in the seventh century.
The Anchorite’s Cell
This will be followed by a visit to the Anchorites Cell. Anchorites were hermits who enclosed themselves in a cell for the rest of their lives in order to attain greater sanctity. The last recorded anchorite was at Fore in the closing decades of the seventeenth century. I am hoping to get the keys so that we can get access to the cell.
The North Gate
After the coming of the Anglo-Normans, Fore became a chartered borough. In the 15th century the borough came under attack from the neighbouring Gaelic Clans the O’Reillys and O’Farrells. So it received a murage grant to enable it to charge a tax on all good coming and leaving the town to cover the cost of building town defences
St. Feíchín’s Mill
Dating from the time of the early monastery founded by St. Féichín the mill is referenced at still in operation when the Normans arrived and is mentioned by Gerald of Wales in one of his stories The mill, like the church was an area that women were forbidden to enter as referenced by Gerald of Wales in the thirteenth century.
The Benedictine Priory
The large Benedictine priory of Fore that as commented by many looks more like a fortress than a monastery. Founded by Hugh de Lacy before his death in 1186 (at Durrow in Offaly) i’’s mother house was in Normandy in France. It was richly endowed by de Lacy but fell on hard times during the hundred years war. During that era England and France began to see themselves as separate (though most English nobility and kings continued to speak French as their everyday language until the end of the fifteenth century) as so the Benedictine priory came to be seen as ‘alien property’. As a result the monastery was taken into royal custody during the war and drained of as much of its resources as possible.
In the fifteenth century the priory was run down and with the Gaelic resurgence a change of government policy occurred. Instead of seeing the priory as French property they now came to see it as vital for the defence of the Pale from the Gaelic Irish. The priory was granted to a series of loyal local Anglo-Normans who seem to be responsible for the addition of the two towers to the priory. In fact the priory became a fortress cum monastery with both sharing the same space. The priory was dissolved in 1539
St. Féichín, the founder of the Gaelic monastery at Fore, Co. Westmeath, was born in Billa, in the townland of Collooney in Co. Sligo. A student of St. Nathí of Ardconry he is associated with a number of foundations in the west of Ireland, including Cong in Mayo, Omey and High Island in Galway as well as Termonfeckin in Co. Louth. However, Fore in Westmeath is considered as his most successful establishment. He is said to have died in 665 of the Yellow Plague or Buidhe Chonnail. While we cannot be certain what the disease was it is reputed to have lasted for almost ten years and was followed by leprosy. The name ‘Yellow’ suggests that it was some form of jaundice. Three ‘lives’ of St. Féichín have come down to us, one in Latin and two in Irish. In addition we have Colgan’s commingled Latin life of the seventeenth century. Lives of the Irish saints were not historical biographies of the saint in question actual life. Written long after the subject under discussion had died, their purpose was to promote the sanctity of the founder as his or her value as a saint to venerate. Details of relics of the saint, real or fabricated, which the monastery retained, were interwoven into the saint’s live to demonstrate their powers.
Thomas Lalor Cooke’s Picture of Parsonstown was first published in 1826 and a revised edition by his son William Antisell Cooke in 1875. So this year marks the 150th anniversary of the revised issue and in 2026 we mark the 200th anniversary of T.L. Cooke’s first and now rare book, the Picture of Parsonstown. A reprint of the 1875 greatly expanded history was issued by Esker Press in 1989 with a new introduction by Margaret Hogan. It is now also out of print. A reissue of the 1826 book is now under active consideration.
How often have we seen relatively small scale and cheap solutions deferred in the expectation that more ambitious longer-term projects will arrive at some future date to solve everything? Frequently the costs of the more grandiose schemes balloon over time and their implementation indefinitely deferred or even abandoned. Meanwhile the problem gets progressively worse – often to the point that any solution becomes unrealistic.
While the making of good long-term plans must always be pursued, the delivery of shorter term and achievable remedies should not be easily dismissed. Two high profile projects in the Tullamore area offer classic examples of the dilemma.
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