Gateway, Portersgate, Co. Wexford
Co. Wexford |
Utility Structures
A small settlement on the Hook Peninsula in County Wexford takes its name from a gateway that no longer fully exists.
Two granite spheres, each roughly sixty centimetres across, now sit atop a pair of modest piers moved to one side of the road junction where the routes from Duncannon and Fethard converge before continuing south-west to Slade. They are the last physical remnant of a structure that once straddled the road itself, and the place has been named after it for centuries.
The earliest recorded mention of Portersgate comes from 1577, when a man named Alexander Redmond held land there. By 1680, the gateway carried an inscription naming Henry Loftus of Loftus Hall, a fragment of which survives on a small limestone plaque, now damaged, built into the wall of a nearby house. A larger granite plaque set into a roadside wall, measuring roughly seventy by fifty-five centimetres, bears an inscription that has nearly worn away entirely, but has been read as 'Porters-gate Park An Do 1703', with 'T. Power' added in the lower left corner, possibly at a later date. The original piers are thought to have stood on either side of the road running south-west towards Slade, and together the inscriptions suggest the gateway may have been connected to a redevelopment of Redmond Hall, a site about one and a half kilometres to the south-west, that could have taken place around 1700. The piers themselves were taken down around 1930, though what survives is consistent in style with the gate-piers at the present Loftus Hall and another set of piers further south that can be dated to the eighteenth century.
At the junction today, the two granite spheres are easy to miss if you do not know what you are looking for. The limestone plaque with the Loftus inscription is built into a house wall nearby, and the worn granite plaque sits in the roadside wall close to it. The inscriptions require some patience to read, and the Loftus fragment in particular has suffered considerable damage, but between them they preserve a surprisingly detailed, if fragmentary, record of how the Hook Peninsula was organised and named four centuries ago.


