Kedrah Castle, Kedrah, Co. Tipperary South
On the summit of a gently sloping ridge in County Tipperary stands the remnants of Kedrah Castle, a limestone tower house that once belonged to Sir Richard Butler of Knockytocher, an Irish Catholic baronet.
Kedrah Castle, Kedrah, Co. Tipperary South
The Civil Survey of 1654-56 described it as ‘a ruinous castle with a bawne about it’, suggesting it had already fallen into disrepair by the mid-17th century. Today, the structure measures approximately 8.8 metres east to west externally, with walls nearly a metre thick in places, built from randomly coursed limestone rubble with roughly cut corner stones. The base features a defensive batter, a sloping thickening of the walls, most pronounced on the south and west sides.
The tower house originally had its main entrance at the northern end of the east wall, though only the southern door jamb survives today. Much of the north wall has collapsed, whilst the east face is almost entirely hidden by a later house built directly against it. The west wall remains in the best condition, now incorporated into farm buildings with stables built against it and a cat-slide roof reaching roughly to the level of the original vault. Inside, the ground floor contains two large pointed arch recesses in the south wall; one holds a blocked ogee-headed window whilst the other contains a later brick-lined opening that has since been filled in. A mural staircase rises through the east wall, though the lower steps are modern replacements, possibly rebuilt entirely since the late 19th century when historian White noted no entrance or stairs survived.
The upper floors reveal more of the castle’s original character. The first floor was supported on wooden beams beneath a pointed stone vault, though the northern section has since collapsed. The second floor, accessed via mural stairs in the southeast corner, features a polished limestone fireplace with joggle joints in the centre of the west wall, alongside window embrasures whose openings have been broken out over time. A narrow mural passage, just 60 centimetres wide, runs through the south wall and would have been lit by two windows at either end. Everything above the second floor has been levelled, leaving no trace of what the uppermost storeys might have contained. Despite its ruinous state, the castle offers a tangible connection to 17th-century Irish history, when tower houses like this one dotted the landscape as symbols of local power and defensive necessity.





