From A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland, 1837
BODENSTOWN, or BOWDENSTOWN, a parish, in the barony of NORTH NAAS, county of KILDARE, and province of LEINSTER, 1 ½ mile (S. W.) from Clane; containing, with part of the village of Sallins, 458 inhabitants. It is bounded on the east by the river Liffey, over which is a very curious stone bridge of five arches, all differently shaped. About three-fourths of the land are pasture and appropriated to the fattening of stock for the Dublin and Liverpool markets, and the remainder is under tillage, producing good crops: there is no waste land or bog, yet the supply of fuel is abundant. The Grand Canal, which passes close to the parish, facilitates the conveyance of corn and potatoes to the metropolis, from which manure is also obtained in abundance. The gentlemen's seats are Blackhall, that of P. Wolfe, Esq.; Castlesize, of I. Manders, Esq.; Little Rath, of Mr. R. Hall, occupying the site of an ancient intrenchment; and Sallins Lodge, near which stood the old castle of Sallins, the residence of Mr. S. Holt. The living is a vicarage, in the diocese of Kildare, with the perpetual curacy of Sherlockstown episcopally united, forming the union of Bodenstown, in the patronage of the Bishop; the rectory is impropriate in the Earl of Mayo. The tithes amount to £90, of which £60 is payable to the impropriator and £30 to the vicar; and the tithes of the entire benefice amount to £65. There is no church, but a grant was made for the erection of one by the late Board of First Fruits; the Protestant parishioners attend the church of Clane. There is also no glebe-house: the glebe comprises 8 acres. In the R. C. divisions the parish forms part of the union or district of Kill. There is a pay school of about 10 children. The celebrated Theobald Wolfe Tone was a native of this parish, and lies in the same grave with his father in the churchyard.
From a sad, comfortless childhood Giles Truelove developed into a reclusive and uncommunicative man whose sole passion was books. For so long they were the only meaning to his existence. But when fate eventually intervened to have the outside world intrude upon his life, he began to discover emotions that he never knew he had.
This is a story for the genuine booklover, penned by an Irish bookseller under the pseudonym of Ralph St. John Featherstonehaugh.
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