Bid to solve mystery of the missing 1798 plaques in Mayo county town
Dr. Michael O’Connor
The Castlebar Car Boot sale occurs on the last Sunday of every month in the large car park behind Main Street.
The market is where things you never had on a shopping list seek you out and relieve you of the contents of your wallet.
Vendors from all over Ireland congregate with their vans and trailers to offer an eclectic mix of unwanted, unloved, and mostly used paraphernalia.
The market is reminiscent of many such markets in continental Europe—full of colour, eccentric characters, and discerning shoppers.
As collectors of old books and historical memorabilia, my wife and I regularly make the pilgrimage from Murrisk to Castlebar.
Past acquisitions include books that once adorned the shelves of Turlough House and bear the family crests and annotations of Charles Lionel Fitzgerald from his Oxford days in the mid-1850s and a rare nineteenth-century engraving of the talented but troublesome Irish stallion Knight of St George, who won the Doncaster Great St. Ledger in 1854.
What does any of this have to do with the missing 1798 plaques? The answer is nothing, save this.
On our last visit, I was persuaded by my companion to accompany her on a walk through the streets of Castlebar to find and photograph the plaques for a 1798 project she was working on at Atlantic Technical University.
We started our stroll at Christchurch—on the outer wall facing the Green is Plaque No. 11 commemorating the last loyalist-defended position during the Battle of Castlebar on 27 August 1798.
Here, members of the Fraser Fencible Regiment of Foot fell—the names of six members of the regiment who died can be found on a memorial stone within the grounds of Christchurch.
Not knowing the location of Plaque No. 1 or indeed how many plaques there are, we moved down into Ellison Street, where we happened upon Plaque No. 10.
This marks the spot where the home of Fr. Boetious Egan, a member of the Municipal Authority appointed by Humbert, once stood. Close by, on the front of the former Ulster Bank, we found Plaque No. 9, which notes that ‘A Member of the Fraser Fencibles was Killed Defending the Jail here’. This plaque is misplaced—it should be on the wall of the Motor Tax Office on the Green, the site of the prison in 1798.
We moved into Main Street and past the building that was once the Humbert Inn.
Next door, Patrick Fahey’s shop (formerly Geevy’s Hotel) carries a fitting memorial commemorating the banquet held there after the Battle of Castlebar.
Further along, on the bridge at Bridge Street, there is Plaque No. 7, which memorialises the defence of the bridge by Captain Chambers of the Royal Longford Militia. Humbert, writing of the Franco-Irish assault on the bridge, recalled that ‘he had not seen a more obstinate engagement, even in La Vendé (Richley, A Short History of the Royal Longford Militia (1894)).
Lately, it has been suggested that the bridge be named Humbert Bridge, but Humbert has Humbert Way.
The bridge should be left to Captain Chambers, who died from his wounds.
His brother George fought on the Franco-Irish side and was hanged in Ballinrobe by the Crown for his efforts after his court-martial on 18 May 1799.
After the Rebellion was crushed, Captain W. Armstrong of the Royal Longford Militia was paid £31 10s for the loss of his horse, which was shot under him on the bridge—something to reflect on the next time you stand on the bridge!
Onward to the Linenhall, we found Plaque No. 16, which reads, ‘General Humbert held a Victory Ball here after the Battle’.
Opened on 25 October 1790 as a market for trading linen, the building was an obvious choice for the occasion.
The Linenhall, an essential part of the town’s historic fabric, still hosts events.
On May 4 next, 226 years after Humbert’s visit, I will be making a presentation there on the fate of the men and women of 1798 in County Mayo.
The event is part of the Races of Castlebar Festival 2024.
Around the corner on Rush Street, we found Plaque No. 6, commemorating the 3rd Regiment of Chasseurs’ charge to rout the royalist defenders of the bridge on Bridge Street.
Not sure which way to turn, we made our way to the Green and the Imperial Hotel—a remodelled relic of 1798 now dilapidated and forlorn.
It now hosts the ghosts of a lengthy and impressive list of people who carried the torch for Ireland after the men and women of 1798. In contrast, as we walked past John Wesley’s Methodist Chapel, one of the oldest buildings in Castlebar, the Sunday morning congregation emerged all smiles.
Plaque 13, on the front of the Imperial, commemorates patriot priest Fr. Conroy of Lahardane. He was hanged on the Green opposite the hotel on 21 September 1798.
We set out to find the missing plaques but had no luck.
Caroline had her photos, but the numerical sequence was incomplete—6, 7, 9, 10, 11 and 16.
Viv Quinn later informed us that Plaque No. 2 marks the location of the loyalist forces on Sion Hill before the battle.
What happened to the rest? Did they ever exist?
Or was the suite of plaques designed as a puzzle for unsuspecting tourists, destined to spend an afternoon purposefully wandering the streets of Castlebar before retiring perplexed and exhausted for a glass of French wine at Bistro 1798?
The mystery of the missing plaques remains unsolved.
Answers on a postcard, please!