For some time, I have wanted to do a Lucan ramble that would focus on our most famous citizen. No, I’m not talking about Jedward. I am, of course, talking about Patrick Sarsfield, First Earl of Lucan.
Preparing for this ramble has, however, been a little frustrating. There is almost no tangible link left in Lucan with Sarsfield or his time. Indeed, while it is generally accepted that he was born in Lucan, there is little paperwork available to prove it absolutely.
Before I go a-rambling, a little history primer on Sarsfield himself. He was born around 1655 ,most likely in Lucan Manor, purchased by his great-great grandfather in the previous century. Sarsfield married Honora Burke when he was just 15 years old, the couple having one son. Patrick had a distinguished military career and was appointed a colonel by King James II, a fellow catholic.
In 1688, the so-called ‘Glorious Revolution’ took place in England, when the protestant aristocracy invited the protestant Prince William of Orange to take the throne from the catholic James. Deposed, James eventually arrived in Ireland, where the Irish parliament continued to swear allegiance to him. An Irish army was raised and Sarsfield was promoted to Brigadier. The period from 1689 to 1691 in Ireland is referred to as the Williamite War. It involved battles between the forces of King James on one side and King William on the other. Sarsfield would lead James’s armies in a number of actions, including the Battle of the Boyne, in which Sarsfield was believed to be very critical of James’s order to retreat.
After the Boyne, James fled to France, becoming known in Irish folklore as Séamus an Chaca. (Note: you’ll have to translate that one yourselves!). In 1691, however, he elevated Sarsfield to the title ‘Earl of Lucan’. Patrick continued the war, leading the heroic, but ultimately failed, Siege of Limerick. He signed the Treaty of Limerick and left Ireland along with much of the remaining catholic aristocracy, an event known in Irish history as ‘The Flight of the Wild Geese’. He died at the Battle of Landen in 1693, fighting for the French army. He is buried in Huy, France, where his grave was recently rediscovered.
For my ramble today, I plan to walk the exterior wall of the Italian Ambassador’s Residence in Lucan Village, a part of Lucan Demesne long closed to the public. I am taking this route because, although there are very few Sarsfield sites left, there are a number of local legends associated with him that I am keen to explore.
As I leave the car park and begin my walk towards the village, I take a moment to look at the long, rubble wall that I will follow. This wall was erected by Agmindisham Vesey in the 1770s as part of his complete redesign of the village. Indeed, it is largely due to his changes that we have so little of the Lucan of Sarsfield’s time left behind. The wall is beginning to become unstable, however, and I walk part a large section that remains collapsed and unrepaired.
One of the most famous legends associated with Sarsfield in Lucan for centuries was the legend of the Sarsfield Tree. It is something that is no longer in the local memory, but featured in old newspaper articles and in the Dúchas schools folklore collection. The legend tells of a tree somewhere in Lucan Demesne that has a twisted trunk, its head in the ground and its roots in the air. It became twisted when it heard of Sarsfield’s death. When Lucan became a resort town, the tree became one of the ‘sites’ that visitors came to see. For about a year, I have been trying to locate the tree. I had found an image of it on the Dúchas website – but unfortunately it was not very clear. I also found a photo from Lucan photographer Jane Shackleton from around 1900 that shows a tree bearing striking similarity to the Dúchas picture. In Shackleton’s photo, the tree has long, shaggy limbs that hang downwards. Some of the legends call it a yew. I posted the pictures on a forum recently to see if anyone could identify the species, but the responses were quite varied. However, I was pointed to a historical map on the OSI viewer website that very clearly pointed out the location of the tree! According to the map, it stands in the Italian part of the demesne, a little over the wall from the easternmost point of the Ball Alley pub.
I cross the road to the point where I believe I should be able to see it. And, indeed, there is tree that bears some resemblances. It is about two or three trees in – the only one still bearing some of its greenery. The limbs hang down in the right direction. It looks a lot thinner than the Shackleton photograph, but it bears some resemblances and is in the correct location. Is this the famed Sarsfield Tree – a tree that ‘sings’ if there is an attempt to cut it?
I move on. I stop at the Orchard – a housing development built inside a historic orchard in Lucan. Not many people know that, behind the wall, there is a door to the old tunnel running beneath the road that connected the orchard to the demesne. While still there, I don’t know if it is accessible.
The AIB car park is empty on this Saturday afternoon. I stop to peer into the distance – to the ruin of the Church of St. Mary, a real hidden Lucan gem. I cannot get the glimpse of it that I seek, so I ramble around to the alleyway beside O’Neill’s pub and look through the iron gate. Attached to the church is a curious square ruin that many in the past mistook for the historic Lucan Castle. The castle, however, no longer exists, and this building was likely a parochial building. However, in the past, there was a legend in Lucan that each year, on the anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of Limerick, Sarsfield appears on the roof of this ruin and fires a cannonball in the direction of Limerick.
I round the corner, across the Griffeen Bridge, and walk towards the entrance to Lucan House. While this was not the entrance in Sarsfield’s day, there is a much-cited legend that the ghost of Sarsfield’s dog reappears here every thirty-five years on the anniversary of Sarsfield’s death, spending two weeks looking for his master, wandering between his kennel and the gate. He is next due to appear on 21st August, 2043. Somewhere behind this gate, too, is the Sarsfield Cenotaph, a large urn-shaped monument that, curiously, sits astride three carved tortoises.
I reach the end of the demesne and reflect that, while I have not been able to see any trace of Sarsfield’s Lucan, I have at least seen some of the sites in which he lived on in Lucan folklore. When the Williamite wars were over, Lucan Manor was inherited by his niece, Charlott Sarsfield. She herself married Agmondisham Vesey. Amongst their descendents are Princess Diana, Prince William and Prince George. Although I had been searching for the Sarsfield Tree, it seems that Sarsfield may have the last laugh when, someday in the future, a descendant of this Irish family will sit on the English throne. A Sarsfield Family Tree for all to see.