‘BUTLER ABOO” is the war cry of the Butlers which they last used with effect at the Battle of Affane in 1565, when the Butlers defeated their traditional enemies, the Desmond Fitzgeralds, in the last pitched battle to be fought in the British Isles between private armies. I hope they will not be using the war cry too often during their 15th triennial Rally that is going to be taking place in Kilkenny from August 25th to 30th. The members of the Butler clan who will have returned from as far away as Hawaii, Australia, Canada, the US, Germany, France, Spain and England will dine in the great hall of their castle in Kilkenny.
During the five days of the gathering, they will also be visiting Jerpoint, lunching at Lisnavagh near Rathvilly; partying at Maidenhall, where the writer Hubert Butler one of the founders of the society lived and seeing other places of Butler interest.
As a tour leader, the question of transport has been much occupying me. In the past we have had our adventures – especially before the days of mobile phones when the bus or coach was usually lost. Once I arrived by car at Cashel to rendezvous with the bus, but there was no sign of it until I spied the Butlers clambering up the precipice on the far side of the Rock. Why the bus driver had let them out there, I never knew – but the steep slope looked like a battle field with bodies strewn around gasping for their heart pills or clutching their ankles – but rallying to a few ‘Aboos’, they gamely got to their feet and struggled on to the summit.
During another rally, we were returning one evening in the dark when the rain was slashing the windscreen, there was a splutter, the coach choked and stopped. Fortunately a passing bus bound for an evening of bingo bore the Butlers away and it proved a most successful occasion; the spoils included a huge pink rabbit that took up two seats for the remainder of the rally.
I often think the Butlers are not innovative enough about their transport, unlike some of their forefathers. It is generally recognised that plans for the very first British motor vehicle were drawn up by Edward Butler in 1884. It was a three wheeler and by 1889, Butlers Petrol Cycle had been built – there is a splendid picture of him seated at the back of the back-to-front tricycle with his wife and son side by side in front. Edward Butler did not develop his invention commercially owing to the restrictions on roads then in place. The rules of the road allowed a maximum speed of 2mph in a city, though in the country one could whiz along at 4mph, but each vehicle had to be attended by three people, one of whom walked in front waving a red flag.
However my favourite Butler is Frank Hedges Butler, a partner in the family wine merchants that had been founded in 1667 with premises on Regent Street in London. (A very suitable occupation for one named Butler). He promoted the firm by explaining “wine is a food, conductive to health and long life”.
An early car owner, in 1901 he had planned a motor tour with his daughter Vera in her Renault, but alas the car caught fire so as an alternative means of transport they took off in a balloon with Charles Rolls of Rolls Royce fame. As they floated over London, sipping champagne, they had the idea of forming the Royal Aero Club which duly came into being, and no doubt owing to Vera, it was open equally to men and to women.
As an enthusiastic aeronaut, and equipped with cameras, fumed screens and coloured spectacles, Butler went up with another experienced balloonist in order to observe an eclipse of the sun.
They rose above the clouds and were able to view and photograph the eclipse. An ample lunch followed, for stowed away in the balloon basket was a “somewhat bulky hamper” containing champagne, fowl, ham and other delicacies. Hearing the thunder of the waves, they realised that they were over the sea and were set to cross the Channel. The weather had deteriorated and it was snowing, making visibility was very poor. They had reckoned that it would take three-and-a-half hours, but it took seven-and-a-half hours and it was dark before they saw lights spangling the coast and were able to come down in a field near Caen.
Frank Hedges Butler is reputed to have risen every day at 4am – and he would have needed to as he had so much to do. One of his talents was playing the violin; he was the first violin at the Handel festival in 1874 and he founded the Imperial Institute Orchestral Society.
He was also a remarkable traveller, ostensibly for the wine business, though I am not sure how crossing the Finnmark Plateau in Lapland by sledge increased the wine sales. He took along “old Cognac brandy, port, whisky and kummel besides tobacco, cigars and cigarettes”, for personal consumption. In his luggage were piccalilli onions, Yorkshire hams, tinned asparagus, plum puddings, marmalade and Worcester sauce. No wonder his guide, who had to hold his hand when skiing and pull him up the steep places, wrote, “I fear for my life for if the big fat gentleman should fall, it would crush a little Lapp like me”. When they reached the hut, that was their destination for the night, “the doorway was so narrow Mr Butler could not squeeze through”.
In his own balloon, which was called Dolce Far Niente, Frank Butler would take off, quaffing the champagne he used as ballast before jettisoning the empty bottles. His chauffeur, following the balloon by road, would pay compensation for any damage done and hand out copies of the Hedges Butler wine list.
From August 25th to 30th, the Butlers may be drinking champagne in Kilkenny, but their feet will be firmly on the ground and I am pretty sure that any passing Fitzgerald will not be pounced on and assaulted.