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by Alexsander Pushkin

The Coffin-Maker was excerpted from the 1916 edition of his work entitled, The Prose Tales of Alexander Poushkin, translated from the Russian by T. Keane.

The last of the effects of the coffin-maker, Adrian Prokhoroff, were placed upon the hearse, and a couple of sorry-looking jades dragged themselves along for the fourth time from Basmannaia to Nikitskaia, whither the coffin-maker was removing with all his household. After locking up the shop, he posted upon the door a placard announcing that the house was to be let or sold, and then made his way on foot to his new abode. On approaching the little yellow house, which had so long captivated his imagination, and which at last he had bought for a considerable sum, the old coffin-maker was astonished to find that his heart did not rejoice. When he crossed the unfamiliar threshold and found his new home in the greatest confusion, he sighed for his old hovel, where for eighteen years the strictest order had prevailed. He began to scold his two daughters and the servant for their slowness, and then set to work to help them himself. Order was soon established; the ark with the sacred images, the cupboard with the crockery, the table, the sofa, and the bed occupied the corners reserved for them in the back room; in the kitchen and parlour were placed the articles comprising the stock-in-trade of the master—coffins of all colours and of all sizes, together with cupboards containing mourning hats, cloaks and torches.

Over the door was placed a sign representing a fat Cupid with an inverted torch in his hand and bearing this inscription: 'Plain and coloured coffins sold and lined here; coffins also let out on hire, and old ones repaired.'

'The Coffinmaker's Garden is brilliantly creepy, with the most cleverly conceived crime scene I've ever read. His legions of fans will love this - it's an unmistakable Stuart MacBride cocktail of dark violence and even darker humour' Jane Casey, Sunday Times bestselling author of The Cutting Place show more. The coffin-maker reached the Nikitskaia Gate in safety. Near the Church of the Ascension he was hailed by our acquaintance Yourko, who, recognizing the coffin-maker, wished him good-night. The coffin-maker was just approaching his house, when suddenly he fancied he saw some one approach his gate, open the wicket, and disappear within.

The girls retired to their bedroom; Adrian made a tour of inspection of his quarters, and then sat down by the window and ordered the tea-urn to be prepared.

The enlightened reader knows that Shakespeare and Walter Scott have both represented their grave-diggers as merry and facetious individuals, in order that the contrast might more forcibly strike our imagination. Out of respect for the truth, we cannot follow their example, and we are compelled to confess that the disposition of our coffin-maker was in perfect harmony with his gloomy occupation. Adrian Prokhoroff was usually gloomy and thoughtful. He rarely opened his mouth, except to scold his daughters when he found them standing idle and gazing out of the window at the passers by, or to demand for his wares an exorbitant price from those who had the misfortune—and sometimes the good fortune—to need them. Hence it was that Adrian, sitting near the window and drinking his seventh cup of tea, was immersed as usual in melancholy reflections. He thought of the pouring rain which, just a week before, had commenced to beat down during the funeral of the retired brigadier. Many of the cloaks had shrunk in consequence of the downpour, and many of the hats had been put quite out of shape. He foresaw unavoidable expenses, for his old stock of funeral dresses was in a pitiable condition. He hoped to compensate himself for his losses by the burial of old Trukhina, the shopkeeper's wife, who for more than a year had been upon the point of death. But Trukhina lay dying at Rasgouliai, and Prokhoroff was afraid that her heirs, in spite of their promise, would not take the trouble to send so far for him, but would make arrangements with the nearest undertaker.

These reflections were suddenly interrupted by three masonic knocks at the door.

'Who is there?' asked the coffin-maker.

The door opened, and a man, who at the first glance could be recognized as a German artisan, entered the room, and with a jovial air advanced towards the coffin-maker.

'Pardon me, respected neighbour,' said he in that Russian dialect which to this day we cannot hear without a smile: 'pardon me for disturbing you.... I wished to make your acquaintance as soon as possible. I am a shoemaker, my name is Gottlieb Schultz, and I live across the street, in that little house just facing your windows. To-morrow I am going to celebrate my silver wedding, and I have come to invite you and your daughters to dine with us.'

The invitation was cordially accepted. The coffin-maker asked the shoemaker to seat himself and take a cup of tea, and thanks to the open-hearted disposition of Gottlieb Schultz, they were soon engaged in friendly conversation.

'How is business with you?' asked Adrian.

'Just so so,' replied Schultz; 'I cannot complain. My wares are not like yours: the living can do without shoes, but the dead cannot do without coffins.'

'Very true,' observed Adrian; 'but if a living person hasn't anything to buy shoes with, you cannot find fault with him, he goes about barefooted; but a dead beggar gets his coffin for nothing.'

In this manner the conversation was carried on between them for some time; at last the shoemaker rose and took leave of the coffin-maker, renewing his invitation.

The next day, exactly at twelve o'clock, the coffin-maker and his daughters issued from the doorway of their newly-purchased residence, and directed their steps towards the abode of their neighbour. I will not stop to describe the Russian caftan of Adrian Prokhoroff, nor the European toilettes of Akoulina and Daria, deviating in this respect from the usual custom of modern novelists. But I do not think it superfluous to observe that they both had on the yellow cloaks and red shoes, which they were accustomed to don on solemn occasions only.

The shoemaker's little dwelling was filled with guests, consisting chiefly of German artisans with their wives and foremen. Of the Russian officials there was present but one, Yourko the Finn, a watchman, who, in spite of his humble calling, was the special object of the host's attention. For twenty-five years he had faithfully discharged the duties of postilion of Pogorelsky. The conflagration of 1812, which destroyed the ancient capital, destroyed also his little yellow watch-house. But immediately after the expulsion of the enemy, a new one appeared in its place, painted grey and with white Doric columns, and Yourko began again to pace to and fro before it, with his axe and grey coat of mail. He was known to the greater part of the Germans who lived near the Nikitskaia Gate, and some of them had even spent the night from Sunday to Monday beneath his roof.

Adrian immediately made himself acquainted with him, as with a man whom, sooner or later, he might have need of, and when the guests took their places at the table, they sat down beside each other. Herr Schultz and his wife, and their daughter Lotchen, a young girl of seventeen, did the honours of the table and helped the cook to serve. The beer flowed in streams; Yourko ate like four, and Adrian in no way yielded to him; his daughters, however, stood upon their dignity. The conversation, which was carried on in German, gradually grew more and more boisterous. Suddenly the host requested a moment's attention, and uncorking a sealed bottle, he said with a loud voice in Russian:

'To the health of my good Louise!'

The champagne foamed. The host tenderly kissed the fresh face of his partner, and the guests drank noisily to the health of the good Louise.

'To the health of my amiable guests!' exclaimed the i host, uncorking a second bottle; and the guests thanked him by draining their glasses once more.

Then followed a succession of toasts. The health of each I individual guest was drunk; they drank to the health of Moscow and to quite a dozen little German towns; they drank to the health of all corporations in general and of each in particular; they drank to the health of the masters and foremen. Adrian drank with enthusiasm and became so merry, that he proposed a facetious toast to himself. Suddenly one of the guests, a fat baker, raised his glass and exclaimed:

'To the health of those for whom we work, our customers!'

This proposal, like all the others, was joyously and unanimously received. The guests began to salute each other; the tailor bowed to the shoemaker, the shoemaker to the tailor, the baker to both, the whole company to the baker, and so on. In the midst of these mutual congratulations, Yourko exclaimed, turning to his neighbour:

'Come, little father! Drink to the health of your corpses!'

Everybody laughed, but the coffin-maker considered himself insulted, and frowned. Nobody noticed it, the guests continued to drink, and the bell had already rung for vespers when they rose from the table.

The guests dispersed at a late hour, the greater part of them in a very merry mood. The fat baker and the bookbinder, whose face seemed as if bound in red morocco, linked their arms in those of Yourko and conducted him back to his little watch-house, thus observing the proverb: 'One good turn deserves another.'

The coffin-maker returned home drunk and angry.

'Why is it,' he exclaimed aloud, 'why is it that my trade is not as honest as any other? Is a coffin-maker brother to the hangman? Why did those heathens laugh? Is a coffin-maker a buffoon? I wanted to invite them to my new dwelling and give them a feast, but now I'll do nothing of the kind. Instead of inviting them, I will invite those for whom I work: the orthodox dead.'

'What is the matter, little father?' said the servant, who was engaged at that moment in taking off his boots: 'why do you talk such nonsense? Make the sign of the cross! Invite the dead to your new house! What folly!'

'Yes, by the Lord! I will invite them,' continued Adrian, 'and that, too, for to-morrow!... Do me the favour, my benefactors, to come and feast with me to-morrow evening; I will regale you with what God has sent me.'

With these words the coffin-maker turned into bed and soon began to snore.

It was still dark when Adrian was awakened out of his sleep. Trukhina, the shopkeeper's wife, had died during the course of that very night, and a special messenger was sent off on horseback by her bailiff to carry the news to Adrian. The coffin-maker gave him ten copecks to buy brandy with, dressed himself as hastily as possible, took a droshky and set out for Rasgouliai. Before the door of the house in which the deceased lay, the police had already taken their stand, and the trades-people were passing backwards and forwards, like ravens that smell a dead body. The deceased lay upon a table, yellow as wax, but not yet disfigured by decomposition. Around her stood her relatives, neighbours and domestic servants. All the windows were open; tapers were burning; and the priests were reading the prayers for the dead. Adrian went up to the nephew of Trukhina, a young shopman in a fashionable surtout, and informed him that the coffin, wax candles, pall, and the other funeral accessories would be immediately delivered with all possible exactitude. The heir thanked him in an absent-minded manner, saying that he would not bargain about the price, but would rely upon him acting in everything according to his conscience. The coffin-maker, in accordance with his usual custom, vowed that he would not charge him too much, exchanged significant glances with the bailiff, and then departed to commence operations.

The whole day was spent in passing to and fro between Rasgouliai and the Nikitskaia Gate. Towards evening everything was finished, and he returned home on foot, after having dismissed his driver. It was a moonlight night. The coffin-maker reached the Nikitskaia Gate in safety. Near the Church of the Ascension he was hailed by our acquaintance Yourko, who, recognizing the coffin-maker, wished him good-night. It was late. The coffin-maker was just approaching his house, when suddenly he fancied he saw some one approach his gate, open the wicket, and disappear within.

'What does that mean?' thought Adrian. 'Who can be wanting me again? Can it be a thief come to rob me? Or have my foolish girls got lovers coming after them? It means no good, I fear!'

And the coffin-maker thought of calling his friend Yourko to his assistance. But at that moment, another person approached the wicket and was about to enter, but seeing the master of the house hastening towards him, he stopped and took off his three-cornered hat. His face seemed familiar to Adrian, but in his hurry he had not been able to examine it closely.

'You are favouring me with a visit,' said Adrian, out of breath. 'Walk in, I beg of you.'

'Don't stand on ceremony, little father,' replied the other, in a hollow voice; 'you go first, and show your guests the way.'

Adrian had no time to spend upon ceremony. The wicket was open; he ascended the steps followed by the other. Adrian thought he could hear people walking about in his rooms.

'What the devil does all this mean!' he thought to himself, and he hastened to enter. But the sight that met his eyes caused his legs to give way beneath him.

The room was full of corpses. The moon, shining through the windows, lit up their yellow and blue faces, sunken mouths, dim, half-closed eyes, and protruding noses. Adrian, with horror, recognized in them people that he himself had buried, and in the guest who entered with him, the brigadier who had been buried during the pouring rain. They all, men and women, surrounded the coffin-maker, with bowings and salutations, except one poor fellow lately buried gratis, who, conscious and ashamed of his rags, did not venture to approach, but meekly kept aloof in a corner. All the others were decently dressed: the female corpses in caps and ribbons, the officials in uniforms, but with their beards unshaven, the tradesmen in their holiday caftans.

'You see, Prokhoroff,' said the brigadier in the name of all the honourable company, 'we have all risen in response to your invitation. Only those have stopped at home who were unable to come, who have crumbled to pieces and have nothing left but fleshless bones. But even of these there was one who hadn't the patience to remain behind—so much did he want to come and see you....'

At this moment a little skeleton pushed his way through the crowd and approached Adrian. His fleshless face smiled affably at the coffin-maker. Shreds of green and red cloth and rotten linen hung on him here and there as on a pole, and the bones of his feet rattled inside his big jack-boots, like pestles in mortars.

The Coffin Maker Short Story

'You do not recognize me, Prokhoroff,' said the skeleton. 'Don't you remember the retired sergeant of the Guards, Peter Petrovitch Kourilkin, the same to whom, in the year 1799, you sold your first coffin, and that, too, of deal instead of oak?'

With these words the corpse stretched out his bony arms towards him; but Adrian, collecting all his strength, shrieked and pushed him from him. Peter Petrovitch staggered, fell, and crumbled all to pieces. Among the corpses arose a murmur of indignation; all stood up for the honour of their companion, and they overwhelmed Adrian with such threats and imprecations, that the poor host, deafened by their shrieks and almost crushed to death, lost his presence of mind, fell upon the bones of the retired sergeant of the Guards, and swooned away.

For some time the sun had been shining upon the bed on which lay the coffin-maker. At last he opened his eyes and saw before him the servant attending to the tea-urn. With horror, Adrian recalled all the incidents of the previous day. Trukhina, the brigadier, and the sergeant, Kourilkin, rose vaguely before his imagination. He waited in silence for the servant to open the conversation and inform him of the events of the night.

'How you have slept, little father Adrian Prokhorovitch!' said Aksinia, handing him his dressing-gown. 'Your neighbour, the tailor, has been here, and the watchman also called to inform you that to-day is his name-day; but you were so sound asleep, that we did not wish to wake you.' 'Did anyone come for me from the late Trukhina?'

'The late? Is she dead, then?'

'What a fool you are! Didn't you yourself help me yesterday to prepare the things for her funeral?'

'Have you taken leave of your senses, little father, or have you not yet recovered from the effects of yesterday's drinking-bout? What funeral was there yesterday? You spent the whole day feasting at the German's, and then came home drunk and threw yourself upon the bed, and have slept till this hour, when the bells have already rung for mass.'

'Really!' said the coffin-maker, greatly relieved.

'Yes, indeed,' replied the servant.

'Well, since that is the case, make the tea as quickly as possible and call my daughters.'

10


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(Redirected from Naul, County Dublin)

Irish: An Aill
Séamus Ennis Arts Centre, Naul
Location in Ireland
Coordinates: 53°35′10″N6°17′24″W / 53.586°N 6.290°WCoordinates: 53°35′10″N6°17′24″W / 53.586°N 6.290°W
CountryIreland
ProvinceLeinster
CountyDublin
CouncilFingal County Council
Elevation75 m (246 ft)
Population
(2016)[1]
• Urban568
Irish Grid ReferenceO130609

Naul (Irish: An Aill, meaning 'The Cliff', also known as 'The Naul'), is a village, and its surrounding area, at the northern edge of Fingal and the traditional County Dublin, Ireland. At the northern side of the village, the Delvin River marks the boundary with County Meath.

Naul is also a civil parish in the historic barony of Balrothery West.[2]

Location and geography[edit]

The village sits on the crossroad of the R122 and R108regional roads, the latter being the traditional route between Dublin and the port of Drogheda, while the R122 travels from Finglas in the south to Balbriggan.[3]:2

The River Delvin passes through Naul at the north, through a deep valley known as 'The Roche' which is hemmed in by steep banks and rocky cliffs which rise to 20 metres at one point. In the valley there is a natural waterfall known as 'Waterfall of The Roches'. Further downstream the river has been dammed, forming an artificial pond and cascade with a small private hydroelectric plant.[3]:2

Naul village and the surrounding townlands which comprise the area of Naul, sit on the Northern border of County Dublin and Fingal. However the area locally known as Naul also extends north of the county border into county Meath. The area of north county Dublin comprises 2,627 acres and includes 15 townlands: Naul[4](An Aill), Hazardstown[5](Baile an Hasardaigh), Reynoldstown[6](Baile Raghnaill), Coolfores[7](An Chúil Fhuar), Doolagh[8](Dúlach), Fortyacres[9](Daichead Acra), Winnings[10](Uininn), Hynestown[11](Baile Héin), Cabin Hill[12](Cnoc an Chábáin), Flacketstown[13](Baile Fhlaicéid), Lecklinstown[14](Baile Leithghlinne) and Westown[15](An Baile Thiar).

Name[edit]

The name is anglicised from the IrishAn Aill meaning 'The Cliff' as there is a substantial cliff on either side of the River Delvin just outside the village.

Locally, the village is still known as The Naul as a throwback to the original Irish name, although this is not recognised officially.

History[edit]

The area is thought to have been occupied since the Stone Age – archaeological finds include numerous prehistoricearthworks, and the nearby megalithicpassage tomb and chambered cairns at Fourknocks, around 2.5 km north into Meath from the village, discovered in 1949 on the lands of Thomas Connell. Four prehistoric tumuli, or mounds, were discovered. They contain a chamber wider than the one at Newgrange, and within the passage are strange stone engravings, indicating that the chambers were built about 4,000 years ago.[16]

Black Castle[edit]

Less than a hundred meters north of the graveyard, now completely shrouded under the tight grip of ancient ivy, stands the ruins of the mighty ‘Black Castle’. Once described as ‘one of the most picturesque ruins of its kind in Ireland’.[17]

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The ‘Black Castle’, also known as ‘Castle of the Roches’, ‘Cruise’s Castle’ or ‘Naul Castle’ is ‘boldly situated on a rocky precipice on the brow of a chain of hills, commanding a fine view of the vale of Roches, above which it towers at a height of upwards of 150 feet’.[18] The Black Castle sentinels the Dublin side of the valley, as did the White Castle over the Delvin River, on the opposing Meath bank of the valley,[19] both owing their names due to the hue of the stone they were built from.

The castle is supposed to have been a strong castle, built by the Norman De Geneville family towards the close of the 12th century.[19] It was protected on its north and east sides by a sheer cliff and on the west by mighty walls, with a spacious bawn to shelter its cattle herd.[20] Around the year 1200 the castle passed, through marriage, to Stephen De Crues of the Cruise family, who were amongst the first Norman settlers in Ireland.

In a deed of King John from 1200 the church of Stephen de Crues is mentioned, which is thought to have replaced the ruins of an earlier Celtic shrine on the site of the present graveyard. The Catholic church was served by resident vicars for three hundred years, becoming a protestant church during Elizabeth’s reign.[19] It was recorded as ruinous by 1630 and mass was said on alternate Sundays in either the Black or White castles.[20] The ruins were later replaced with a protestant church in 1818 [19] which used to stand in the graveyard until it became redundant and was demolished in 1949.[21]

In the year 1641 Christopher Cruise is recorded as owning ‘one old castle with an old hall covered in straw, one orchard, one garden plot, ten tenements and the walls of ye parish church’ as his inheritance.[22] However, dusk was swiftly closing in on the Cruise family of Naul. When they participated in the rebellion of 1641 they were dispossessed of their castle and lands. Cromwell attacked and destroyed the castle in 1649 ‘when 40 of its defenders were put to the sword – a lone female escaping’.[20] This marked the end of the Cruise family and their lordship of Naul.

Later Oliver Plunkett is reputed to have been a frequent visitor to the Black Castle and according to legend is supposed to have been captured here for preaching during penal times.[20] Oliver Plunkett was the last religious martyr to be hung drawn and quartered in England. His head is now on display in St. Peters church in Drogheda.

During his visit to Ireland in 2013 to promote the premier of ‘Oblivion’ Tom Cruise was told his ancestors were Cruises of Naul, which was uncovered by a genealogical project commissioned as part of ‘The Gathering’ by Tourism Ireland.

In 1966 a large portion of the castle containing the southern spiral stairwell collapsed, it is now half the size it was then. Large parts of the north and east walls remain however ivy compromises the 800 year old ruins.

White Castle[edit]

North-West of the Black Castle, on the opposing bank across the Delvin river in County Meath, the ‘White Castle’ once stood. The ‘White Castle’ or ‘Snowtown Castle’ is believed to have been built in the 13th century by the Caddell Family [23] who were granted land along the Meath border of Naul from their relative Hugh De Lacey.[24]‘Snowtown Castle’ is shown on Roque’s 1760 map of the area.

When visiting Naul on 10 August 1781, Austin Cooper wrote; '...On the Hill over the Glen, is an oblong Castle in ruins with gable ends. On the Meath side is a large square castle, with towers at each corner, whose diameter are equal to the spaces between them. It is very ruinous as well as some mural enclosures about it. By the boldness of the situation over the river, & remains of Gardens, Terraces and Walks &c., I imagine it to have once been a place of some Elegance & Note.’ [25]

The Caddells were evicted by Cromwell's general De Fyne in 1649, the lands were later released to Arthur Mervyn who built the three mills in Naul. The Pollard family later inherited the White Castle and surrounding land and in 1787 the castle was demolished. A remaining portion of the east face of the castle was later incorporated into Naul Park House c.1800 when the Ennis family acquired the lands. The gardens experienced a revival to their former grandeur and were ‘award winning-gardens’ for a time. The woods family later owned Naul Park house until the property was sold in 1961.[26] Naul Park house and the final remains of the castle were flattened c.1980. All that remains are some ground floor footings, some stone walls and over grown shrubbery from the former gardens.

Legend has it that Nellie Netterville, on fleeing Cromwell’s attack on the Black Castle placed a curse on the White Castle as she was heading west for revenge on the White Castle which was spared shelling. Subsequently anyone who owned the Castle and grounds suffered bad fortune from there on. The site of the castle was left aside when the land was sold in recent years (Nulty, 2008). It now lies overgrown with briars.

Caddell's Folly a Georgian temple constructed by the Caddell family in the 1840s still stands in moderate condition in lands nearby the old castle on the Meath side of the Delvin river.[27]

Séamus Ennis Arts Centre[edit]

Seamus Ennis statue

The Séamus Ennis Arts Centre (SEAC) was officially opened on 23 October 2001. It promotes and develops the traditional arts, and it organises and hosts regular recitals, music sessions, workshops and classes.

The idea for a cultural centre based on the achievements of Séamus Ennis had its origins in the Scoil Shéamuis Ennis, a festival held every October in the Naul area. It is a non-profit organisation set up to commemorate the work and life of the musician, organise the running of events and classes, to provide an outreach service to schools, and to create training, education, employment and work experience opportunities for those involved in community development.[citation needed]

Sport[edit]

Killian's Bar in the village

Clann Mhuíre CLG is the local Gaelic Athletic Association club. It was founded in 1957 and currently fields football teams from Under-8 to Under-18. There is an adult male football team that plays in Division AFL4, and a ladies football team.

Religion[edit]

Naul is a parish in the Fingal North deanery of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Dublin. There is a Catholic church in the village, named for the Nativity of Our Lady.[28] The church was erected in 1821, as inscribed on the diamond-shaped limestone plaque on its front façade.

Up until 1949 there was a Church of Ireland church building in Naul; it was demolished due to the decline of the religion in the area and insufficient numbers of worshipers/attendees. The church used to stand on the west side of the graveyard and was accessed from a flight of steps off the laneway. The former church was built in 1818 during the reign of Elizabeth I, replacing an earlier ruinous Catholic church on the site. The earlier catholic church was recorded as in good condition in 1615, however it was ruinous in 1630.[19] In 1537 Nicholas Bellew of Westown established a chapelry in Naul.[29] The original Catholic Church on this site is believed to have been built by Stephen De Crues (Cruise), of the 'Black Castle' in Naul in AD1200 [20] which is believed to have replaced an earlier celtic church or shrine on the site.

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See also[edit]

References[edit]

  1. ^'Census 2006 – Volume 1 – Population Classified by Area'(PDF). Central Statistics Office Census 2016 Reports. Central Statistics Office Ireland. April 2007. Retrieved 2011-06-14.
  2. ^Placenames Database of Ireland – Naul civil parish
  3. ^ abDoyle, Joseph W. (2013) [2008]. Ten Dozen Waters: The Rivers and Streams of County Dublin (7th ed.). Dublin, Ireland: Rath Eanna Research. pp. i–iv, 1–76 + photos and map. ISBN978-0-9566363-6-2.
  4. ^'Naul Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  5. ^'Hazardstown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  6. ^'Reynoldstown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  7. ^'Coolfores Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  8. ^'Doolagh Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  9. ^'Fortyacres Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  10. ^'Winnings Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  11. ^'Hynestown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  12. ^'Cabinhill Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  13. ^'Flacketstown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  14. ^'Lecklintown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  15. ^'Westown Townland, Co. Dublin'. www.townlands.ie. Retrieved 2019-11-17.
  16. ^Fourknocks: Passage-tomb, Irish Megaliths.
  17. ^Brewer, James Norris (1825). The Beauties of Ireland: Being Original Deliniations, Topographical Historical and Biographical of Each County. London: Sherwood, Jones, & Co. pp. 260–262.
  18. ^Lewis, Samuel (1837). A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland. London: S. Lewis & Co. pp. 420–421.
  19. ^ abcdeDonnelly, Nicholas (1979). Short Histories of Dublin Parishes (2nd ed.). Dublin: Carraig Books. pp. 129–148. ISBN0902512161.
  20. ^ abcdeScully, Seamus (June 1975). Around Historic Naul. 28. Dublin: Dublin Historical Record. pp. 100–112.
  21. ^Egan, Michael J.S. (1993). Memorials of the Dead. Dublin City and County Graveyards. Vol. 6. Dublin. pp. 176–203.
  22. ^Simington, Robert C. (1945). The Civil Survey, A.D 1654 - 1656, Vol. VII, County of Dublin. The Stationery Office. pp. 30–35.
  23. ^Stout, Geraldine (2012). 'ME03153 - Naul - Castle' – via National Monuments Service, Department of Arts, Heritage Regional, Rural and Gaeltacht Affairs.Cite journal requires journal= (help)
  24. ^Mac Diarmada, Rua (2017). 'Ancestors; Caddell'. Ireland XO.
  25. ^Price, Liam (1942). An Eighteenth Century Antiquary. The Sketches, Notes And Diaries Of Austin Cooper (2nd ed.). Dublin: J. Falconer. p. 61.
  26. ^'Auction; Naul Park House'. The Irish Times. 1961.
  27. ^'Ireland's Famine Follies'. amusingplanet.com. Retrieved 11 June 2020.
  28. ^FUSIO. 'Nativity Of Our Lady Roman Catholic Church, Fingal'. Buildings of Ireland. Retrieved 2019-12-06.
  29. ^D'Alton, John (1844). The history of Drogheda, and its environs, Volume 2. Dublin: John D'Alton. p. 165. ISBN9781331457404.

The Coffinmaker' S Garden Pdf free. download full

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