Sated with opera and black pudding we drove up the M11 to Dublin on Monday morning. Six of us in a hire car with our bags is cosy and, sportingly, the General took the rear gunner’s seat at the back. We met the Judge and Mr and Mrs Dog Lover for lunch at the Merrion.
A hotel has class when it can dispense with “hotel”. The Merrion, just 21 years old, has oodles of class. As a rule I am not drawn to luxury hotels; at best they do the job well but expensively. However, I am enraptured by the Merrion and was agog to know who created such a gem. There are four shareholders one of whom has a family connection: Martin Naughton KBE who also owns Glen Dimplex. Glen Dimplex owns a staggering number of well known brand names but traces its origins back to a village in Co Louth: Dunleer, about two miles from Barmeath. Mr Naughton, as I feel I should call him, is an all-round good egg and philanthropist. He lives at Stackallan in the Boyne valley between Slane and Navan.
Stackallan was built circa 1716 for Gustav Hamilton, 1st Viscount Boyne, one of William III’s generals. Mark Bence-Jones singles it out as “one of the last surviving grand Irish country houses of the beginning of the 18th century”. When I was a child Mrs (Liz) Burke lived there in some grandeur.
The Naughtons are worthy owners today, keeping house and gardens impeccably. In this endeavour they are assisted by my nephew in his role as gardener. Now I must explain why the Merrion is such a gem – and it’s not just because Mr Naughton employs my nephew. The well-proportioned Georgian rooms, the hotel is four houses that have been converted, are hung with an impressive collection of mostly Irish 19th and 20th century art, all museum quality. It, I think, was put together by Merrion Chairman, Lochlann Quinn, and it is generous of him and his wife to allow guests at the Merrion to enjoy his collection.
Fifty-eight artists are listed in the catalogue, a gift to me from the hotel, including Mildred Anne Butler, Paul Henry, Nathaniel Hone, Mainie Jellett, Sir John Lavery, Louis Le Brocquy, Roderic O’Conor, Hughie O’Donoghue, Mary Swanzy and Jack Yeats. I thoroughly enjoyed touring the rooms before lunch with a glass of French sauvignon blanc and the General’s Lady, although I was disappointed not to see Evie Hone represented on the walls.
I was fortunate to attend a wedding reception at The Merrion recently, in addition to the splendid surroundings the cuisine was tip-top. Like the author I am generally ambivalent towards self proclaimed ‘luxury’, however in the case of the Merrion, this actually translated itself into a most civilized experience: the well placed art and objet d’art, the restraint of ostentation, the welcome lack of raucous children at breakfast. The Merrion is definitely worthy of its high distinction, the only downside is that such consolations come with a prohibitive price tag for the petit bourgeois like myself.