The Kerryman (South Kerry Edition)
PRESERVING A HAUNTING PAST
TADHG EVANS TALKS TO A MEMBER OF THE TEAM THAT RESTORED TARBERT BRIDEWELL 25 YEARS AGO – AND SHE INSISTS ON PRESERVING ITS HISTORY
AT one point loathed, the Tarbert Bridewell’s limestone walls are today admired as an elegant showcase of 19th century craftsmanship. Formerly a setting for confinement of prisoners and issuing of harsh punishments, the imposing structure is now home instead to much that marks a north Kerry community as special.
From 1831, the Bridewell served as a jail for more than 40 years – and when that stretch of its time-line was consigned to grim history, the building continued to operate as a courthouse for a further 75 years.
The site now exists under a community-based board of trustees for the people of Tarbert, its day-to-day running overseen by a voluntary management committee. Some 30 years have passed since the locality voted to save an historic building being sold for its neat stone – and it’s 25 years since the Bridewell was rescued from every trace of the dereliction that had threatened to fatally undermine it.
“Under the umbrella of Tarbert Development Association [TDA], the community in 1988 decided and voted to save the building, and our brief was the restoration and preservation of the building because of its historical, cultural and architectural value – and, believe it or not, nearly all of us that were there in 1988 are still there,” Mary O’Connell says. “We were chaired back then by the late Maurice Fitzgerald, and his son Niall is now chair.
“We wanted to turn it into an amenity that would be self-sustaining, where any profits could be reinvested in the community. It’s owned by the community, it’s managed by the community – and the trustees are within the community.”
Though one of eight of Bridewells built in Kerry, Tarbert’s was the only one restored as a museum, Mary explains, reeling off the building’s history with the fluency of an archivist. Designed to hold prisoners until courts were held, Tarbert and its fellow Bridewells were home to extensive misery. With cases heard every 30 days, to be arrested the day after a court sitting was considered especially unfortunate; it meant having to suffer a month of bread, gruel, and mindless labour before having even a chance of encountering justice.
“At the time there were local notables appointed by the Government because of their wealth or status or political reliability, and the surnames of the leading magistrates in Tarbert were Sandes, Leslie, Chute, Blennerhassett, Spring, Crosby – names that are still there today between Tralee and Tarbert,” Mary says. “What we do here today is tell the story of Thomas Dillon, and you follow him through his arrest, his charge, and when he was brought to the Bridewell. He would have been kept in Tarbert until the court of petty sessions was held. He had left his cow onto a neighbour’s property to graze and was then fined ten shillings.
“Mary McCarthy is very interesting too in that she was there with her baby. When she was tried for such a small crime [stealing cabbage plants] she got deportation. Her baby went with her and her children were then put into a workhouse. The thing about deportation at that time was that the judiciary was sending off young women, young men, and they would have been transported at times for very minor crimes. If a young man stole a book, they’d get deportation. If an older person did it, they wouldn’t, because they’d hardly last the voyage. The regime in the Bridewell prison itself was very bad; they just got gruel, bread, milk – and that was it.”
After suffering decades of disuse following its original closure, it took five years from the ambitious local moves of 1988 for the Bridewell to be well enough to welcome visitors subsequent to fund-raising drives ably supplanted by north Kerry folk at home and overseas. The landmark finally re-opened in 1993, assuming a figure broadly resembling its current guise.
Today, aside from functioning as a necessary reminder of an infinitely grimmer time, the Bridewell houses an exhibition on the works of Thomas McGreevy, a coffee shop, a gift centre, and a community hub that hosts an impressive range of events and groups.
Its haunting history has also called the eyes of fascinated ghost-hunter teams from around Ireland, and the building even appeared recently in the US’ version of “Who Do You Think You Are?”, as actor Sean Hayes traced his lineage back to the trial of his great-granduncles – Patrick and William – for the assault of his great-great-grandfather.
“But you do get to a stage where refurbishment has to start again and that’s what we’re about at the moment,” Mary said upon the 25th anniversary of the re-opening. “With the support of KLAG, we’ve had funding approved under the LEADER programme for refurbishments and an up-todate AV system to enhance the experience for visitors. These will be in place ahead of the new tourist season – but a quarter of the cost must be borne by the sponsor, so we’ll be undertaking a fund-raising drive in due course.”
And these planned efforts will be worthwhile, Mary maintains; her belief in the upkeep of the Bridewell has not dimmed with the passing of a quarter of a century.
“From the day we opened we’ve had the most wonderful staff on CE schemes taking a personal interest – they love that it’s our history, it’s our past,” she says. “We can’t forget; I know it’s a haunting past from a different time, and it was a terrible time – but we preserve it for our children and our grand-children.”
“From day one we’ve had the most wonderful staff taking an interest – they love that it’s our history, it’s our past.”