On Midsummer Day the gates to Lord Massey’s Estate were firmly shut against us. And not alone that, a tall growth of well-armed nettles stood in front of them while a mass of brambles threatened from the inside.
There was no way we could get through those gates. Having come this far out from Limerick city, the 10 of us, all members of the Shannon Swimming Club, had decided to cycle on a little farther to Castleconnell for our picnic when there was a triumphant shout.
One of the lads found a section of the wall that was easy to climb. When it came to my turn to go over, I paused to catch my breath and be amazed by the landscape before me.
I had never seen such rhododendrons before. There they were spreading all the way down to the Shannon covered in waxy mauve blossom, their dark green leaves glistening in the morning sunshine.
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I had just completed my Leaving Certificate and my mother wanted me to get a summer job but Dad said: “No let her make the most of this summer – who knows where she’ll be next year.”
On Midsummer Day my mother looked on tight-lipped as I packed my old schoolbag with my new Catalina Model swimsuit and the beach towel that had come in a parcel all the way from a cousin in the US.
I forced in my favourite cream crackers and cheese, a tin mug, a bottle of milk and I rolled up loose tea and sugar in a page of newspaper. There were no such things as tea bags or plastic bags back then.
We gathered downtown at Baal’s Bridge and then cycled out the Dublin Road, up the hill of Castletroy, past Annacotty turning left at Lisnagry and soon we reached Lord Massey’s estate.
Having negotiated the wall, we made our way through the rhododendrons to the banks of the Shannon and parked ourselves for a sunshiny day of picnicking and swimming, and all the while the shell of Lord Massey’s mansion looked down upon us. Everyone knew stories about the Masseys.
Hermitage. That’s what the Masseys named their mansion. They lived there for over 100 years until a chimney fire caused serious damage to it in 1915 and during the War of Independence Massey’s Mansion was destroyed by fire.
The Masseys were mostly military men and worked their way to high positions within the British Army. But there was one, the Rev Charles Massey, who was involved in an unfortunate scandal. In 1803 the Marquis of Headford was stationed with his regiment in Limerick and was totally smote by the wife of the Massey. In no time at all he won her over and they eloped.
The enraged cleric took a civil action against the Marquis for damages of £40,000. Massey won the case and was awarded £10,000.
In his magnificent closing speech, the prosecutor said – “Alas, gentlemen, she is no longer worth anything, faded, degraded, and disgraced, she is worth less than nothing” and of the accused gentleman he stated: “As the noble Marquis approached her, the plume of glory nodded on his head.”
But back to our Midsummer Picnic. As the daylight waned, sunburned and sated, we negotiated the wall once more and headed back to the city. On reaching home I unclipped the bunch of rhododendrons that I had gathered from the carrier of my bike and realised that I had left my bag with my glorious Catalina Model swimsuit and the beach towel at Lord Massey’s.
Rather than face my mother’s wrath, I did an about turn and headed back out the Dublin Road, up the hill of Castletroy, past Annacoty, turned left at Lisnagry and clambered over the wall once more. I made my way down through the rhododendron bushes and there was my bag safe and sound.
Thanking God and all the saints in heaven, I was making my way, in the thickening darkness, back to my bike when I noticed a light in one of the lower windows of the big ruined house. I could see a winged armchair and a man pacing up and down behind it. Had Lord Massey come back to haunt his house?
I ran at breakneck speed to the wall, managed to get over and jumped on to my bike. Oh! the blessed relief of reaching home. Dad looked up from his book when I came in and asked: “Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A ghost? Had I seen a ghost? Perhaps I had.
It was Midsummer after all.
