Kilkenny is Ireland's largest inland city. Situated on a bend in the south-flowing Nore, its beauty, architectural heritage and self-contained charm have long been its most enduring resources. The poet Edmund Spenser endorsed that physical grace in The Faerie Queene when writing of "the stubborn Newre whose waters gray by faire Kilkenny and Rossponte boord".
Modern Kilkenny still possesses many ghosts of its medieval past. History still manages to walk hand-in-hand with the brasher realities of a tourism centre. Kilkenny's biggest problem, it could be argued, is the wealth of surviving glimpses of its Tudor and Georgian, never mind, Victorian self. Precisely because so much survived, complacency set in and little effort was taken to preserve specific buildings and sites now lost or impinged upon. An example of this is the approach to the Dominican Friary "Black Abbey" through the Black Freren Gate.
Archaeologist John Bradley, an authority on Irish medieval towns and an expert on Kilkenny, has come to approach his native city with equal measures of scholarship and concern. Bradley is the author of the 10th volume of the Royal Irish Academy's Irish Historic Towns Atlas, (The Kilkenny Fascicle). It is the most recent, and largest fascicle to date and a virtuoso example of topographical history writing. Few could hope to match Bradley's scholarship, his pride in, or candid fears for his city. He has written extensively about a glorious heritage now under threat because of decisions made by planners and officials who have little idea "of how a medieval town was planned, laid out and organised".
Kilkenny, he feels, is a town increasingly "out of touch with its own traditions". In a courageous talk delivered in June, 1999, Bradley asked, "can we describe Kilkenny as a beautiful city today? Or has the time come to launch a campaign to remove the `ye faire citie' motto from the front page of the Kilkenny People and replace it with `the developers' city', or perhaps `the city of planning disasters'."
Bradley's vision of heritage is closely linked with the concept of community. In common with many people throughout Ireland, he stresses the shortsightedness and, in many cases, dangers of the Urban Renewal Act. Far from protecting the built heritage, it is encouraging investors to devise schemes that undermine the historic fabric. Bradley has kept his sense of humour. Standing in the rain at the top of the multi-storey car-park facing the blandly modern Kilkenny Ormond Hotel on a wintery Sunday morning, he sadly surveys the changed city, remarking, "It's a great view of the castle though".
The worst effects of the industrial revolution passed Kilkenny by. The townspeople simply did not have the money to demolish the old 17thcentury structures, so they survived into our own time. Nineteenth-century Kilkenny was depressed. It never really recovered in the aftermath of the Great Famine. Indeed, the famine merely accelerated a serious population decline. It experienced a form of isolation. Aside from a weeklong siege at Kilkenny Castle, the city was unaffected by either the War of Independence or the Civil War. By 1926, there were more than 10,000 inhabitants. Part of this slump could be attributed to the lack of a canal link, which led to a collapse in trade.
Not until the 1970s did the population return to late 18th-century levels. Kilkenny was suspended in time. In the past 20 years, particularly during the last decade, however, more period buildings were destroyed than at any other time since the visitation of Cromwell. The McDonald's empire has made itself felt throughout the world, yet somehow its contentious arrival in Kilkenny was more than just another fast food pit-stop.
It amounted to a statement about how easily commercial intent can overrule local opinion. The people of Kilkenny, including the mayor, Paul Cuddihy, fought the decision, and lost not only the fight, but their confidence in the local authority.
Of the many fascinating aspects to Kilkenny is the high heritage awareness of local citizens. Snatches of conversation overheard in the streets are dominated by the issues of more development, more destruction.
A visiting reporter does not have to pursue undercover investigations, as opinions are forthcoming. As the woman in her late 20s with two small children in tow remarked, "What's it like living here? I was born here, so were my parents. But it's been destroyed, being `listed' doesn't seem to matter. Have you seen the Kilkenny Ormond Hotel with the ugly, big, multi-storey car-park? And the River Court Hotel ruining the view from the castle? There are too many apartment blocks. The planners are blind. It's just like everywhere else."
On the other hand, there has been committed restoration work, such as that carried out at Rothe House, the Shee Almshouse (now Kilkenny Tourist Office) and, of course, Kilkenny Castle.
It should be noted that Rothe House, a Tudor merchant house built in 1594, owes its survival not to any government conservation policy, but to the dedication of members of the Kilkenny Archaeological Society who restored it and locals who supported it.
In general, citizens of Kilkenny have become concerned and helpless. Mayor Cuddihy, whose objections to the Ormond Street high-rise carpark resulted in its height being lowered by 14 feet, fears further planning decisions. "Our powers to object are limited. I think they will be further limited by the new Local Authorities' Bill due to go before the Dail this month." Cuddihy is hoping to hold a conference on development in Kilkenny this spring.
Many feel it's too late. Cuddihy does not conceal his exasperation. "We've got to work on planning now rather than sit in the rubble afterwards."