Lord Lucan

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Although I was overnighting in the Spa Hotel in Lucan, it was only when I saw the illuminated glass crest, above, on the wall that I realised I was in Sarsfield country. I always associate Patrick Sarsfield with Limerick, which is where he mainly figured in my simplistic school history. "Sarsfield is the name, and Sarsfield is the man". Passwords were simpler in those days.

Well, once this is established, the hotel does not let you pass on that easily.

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This, above, is a magnificent painting of a Sarsfield victory which hangs over the entrance to the bar. In general it corresponds with the type of glorious history we got in our school version. Heroic victories and the acclamation of the populace.

This artist, however, has been quite graphic in depicting the slaughtered Redcoats. Open chest wounds, blood oozing out the mouth and a southpaw sword hand chopped off.

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A stained glass depiction, above, of another battle, on the wall of the breakfast room, takes up the women's story. Armed with staffs, bottles, axes, bricks, and the kitchen sink, they have overcome the Williamite forces.

On seeing this depiction, a small girl was heard to remark to her mother: "Mammy, is that lady having a bad day?".

A rather good day I'd have thought from the look of things.

Again we have Sarsfield on horseback in the panel on the left and a wee bit of romance in the one on the right.

So, if you're ever in the Spa, you won't escape the echoes of history.

And I'll bet you were expecting this fellow.