At Kilcolman Castle

by

Frank X. Roberts

If in 2007 one were to “google” the words “Kilcolman Castle” many hits would appear on the computer screen. It will surprise no one, for obvious reasons, that this was not the case a decade and a half ago. In those pre-Google days, in 1991 to be exact, on a bright morning near the end of May, my wife, Dorothy, and I left Shannon Airport in a rented car and headed south through Tralee and Killarney (traversing Spenser’s Munster) to the city of Cork. From Cork we drove 50 miles to the north, to Kilcolman Castle, where the poet Edmund Spenser lived from 1589 to 1598 and where he wrote much of England’s great romantic epic, The Faerie Queene. 

Using the road map provided by the rental car company, and relying also on more explicit directions from The Spenser Encyclopedia (“. . . 3 1/4 miles NNW of Doneraile; some 600 yards on the left of the road from Doneraile to Charleville”) we eventually spotted Kilcolman Castle (or rather the remains of it), a lonely, ivy-covered stone tower far out in the empty fields below the Ballyhoura Hills.

With rising excitement we searched for a way to approach the Kilcolman ruins. Unfortunately, a large area around the castle, including Spenser’s “rushy lake, / Where none doo fishes take” (known locally as Kilcolman Bog), is occupied by the Kilcolman Wildlife Refuge. Any attempt by tourists to approach Kilcolman Castle through this area (even university professors with a special interest in Spenser), is, we were told, forbidden for fear of disturbing the wildlife. Taking this rejection with as much good grace as we could muster, we went farther north on the Doneraile road and found a gap in the roadside wall. Stepping gingerly, we made our way across fields of knee-high, springtime grasses, hoping all the while not to meet an irate farmer with a shotgun. After about 600 yards of trudging we clambered up the grass-covered limestone ridge upon which the remains stand, overlooking the Bog of Kilcolman and, to the south and west, Armulla Dale through which flows the Awbeg River (“Mulla mine, whose waves I whilom taught to weep”).

We pressed our copy of Smith and DeSelincourt’s The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser against the crumbling walls of the tower and read aloud the following lines from Colin Clouts Come Home Againe:

Colin my liefe, my life, how great a losse
Had all the shepheards nation by thy lacke?
And I poor swain of many greatest crosse:
That sith thy Muse since first thy turning backe
Was heard to sound as she was wont on hye,
Has made us all so blessed and so blythe.

The vine-covered walls made no reply, but in that silence we felt there was a spirit lingering. We took pictures. No sign boards pointed the way to this shrine of English letters or described its history and importance; no paved walkways led pilgrims through the green fields of Ireland to the holy place of Kilcolman; no bookshops or gift shops sold leather bookmarks or other mementos. A crumbling stone tower was all that marked the spot where England’s greatest epic poet set down many of the lines of England’s greatest epic poem. No doubt there are those who think this state of affairs a scandal, just as there are, no doubt, others who believe that this is the way it should be. The tower of Kilcolman Castle will remain a long while yet, but in time it will crumble and fall; the vines, the hawthorn bushes, the grass, and the silence will cover all, or so we thought.

However, a recent computer search on Kilcolman revealed that in 1999 Eric Klingelhofer published an article in the March/April issue of Archaeology detailing the results of an excavation of Kilcolman Castle and its surroundings which he had made in 1993. Professor Klingelhofer has recommended to the Irish Government that it carry on his work with the aim of preserving Kilcolman and establishing an on-site museum, so that “one of the greatest poets of the English language would again have a home, and a story, beyond his cold memorial in Westminster Abbey and his words in print.” Professor Klingelhofer also reported on his Kilcolman research in a 22-page article titled “Edmund Spenser at Kilcolman castle:  The Archaeological Evidence” in the March 2005 issue of Post-Medieval Archaeology. I would wish only to second and support Professor Klingelhofer’s fervent recommendation. But as far as I know nothing along these lines has been accomplished to date. At least nothing in this vein shows up on a computer search.

Another fairly recent, but brief, contemporary mention of Kilcolman Castle found through a computer search was included as part of the record of a trip through Ireland in July, 2003. A picture of Kilcolman included with the article seems to indicate that the castle ruin has not changed much at all since our visit in 1991. And the twenty lines or so of description given make Kilcolman Castle sound just as inaccessible to Spenserians and to casual travelers in 2003 as it was to my wife and me in 1991.  

As we said goodbye to it then, and looked back from the Doneraile road, Kilcolman stood “Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enemyes.” If in fact any “enemyes”—or, indeed, friends—were nearby, they certainly seemed to be ignoring the castle. Apparently they mostly continue to do so, here at the commencement of the 21st century. In the opinion of this Spenserian, it is a complete shame and a sad commentary on the lack of interest in the cultural and literary heritage of the English (and Irish) people and the English language, that the place where England’s greatest epic poet composed England’s greatest epic poem should still be almost wholly ignored and neglected.

 
Frank’s extensive career in teaching and librarianship began when he taught English in the U.S. From 1961 to 1963, as part of a Columbia University program called “Teachers for East Africa,” he taught English and American Literature in East Africa. There he met his wife, Dorothy. They returned to the U.S. where he simultaneously taught and finished two Masters’ degrees, in Education and in Librarianship. In 1968 they returned to England where Frank taught Library Studies, and adopted Hodge, a cat who later traveled around the world with them. In 1972, Frank was “seconded” for two years to teach at Makerere University in Uganda, East Africa, but left reluctantly after one year when the tyranny of Idi Amin became intolerable. From there it was back to England, then Australia and finally  to America in 1979, to Buffalo where Frank earned his doctorate. Later they moved to Colorado, where he was Professor of Library Studies at the University of Northern Colorado until retiring in 1997. Frank published James A. Michener: A Checklist of his Work with a Selected Annotated Bibliography (Greenwood Press) in 1995. He has written on bookmarks, specifically on medieval bookmarks, his special area of interest. A poet by avocation, he writes eclectically but traditionally. Frank and Dorothy live in Colorado with two very senior citizens of the feline persuasion. He can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it