
Horticulturalist John Joe Costin reveals how tree planting was a welcome distraction for Haughey during difficult times
Red House, Portgloriam, Co Kildare
Asking price: €1.3m
Agent: Coonan Property (01) 6286128
Few realise that the late Taoiseach Charles Haughey indulged in a secret therapy. When the going got tough, the tough got growing. Tree planting to be specific.
It seems CJH was a closet tree hugger. And there was nobody he trusted more to help him in trying times than well-known horticulturist and renowned garden designer John Joe Costin.
As a young research officer at the agricultural institute in Kinsealy, Costin was despatched across the road to Abbeville one afternoon in 1971 when Haughey was looking for advice on his gardens (and also licking his wounds after the Arms Crisis). So began a lifelong rapport between the two men.
“Every time Haughey had a crisis, he would plant trees,” Costin says. “It was like a therapy for him, to get his mind off things. He liked to meet early in the morning before he would go into the office.
“This seemed to be a distraction for him from his problems. He was totally absorbed in what we were doing. It was his outlet. And then he’d go back to his problems and deal with them in a more efficient manner.”
Abbeville was Haughey’s pride and joy and he wanted to restore it to the best of his ability. He was willing to learn from Costin and was very amenable to new plants.
“Where people vie with each other now over big cars, years ago when it was all about home entertainment, very often there was great competition to see who had the latest acquisition from South America, be it a monkey puzzle or a pine,” Costin says. “Haughey understood that arboretum was part of big houses.”
The controversial leader didn’t like to get his hands dirty, in the literal sense at least. “I still have his walking stick,” Costin says. “He would walk with that and he would supervise. We planted trees every year there. He was a small man, but had no interest in small plants. His interests lay in the great giants of the forest. We got on well because I didn’t fawn on him. I was blunt with him, which he liked.”
After four years in Kinsealy, Costin left to go out on his own. He set up the first wholesale nursery in the country in Kildare. “I grew plants in pots and the traditionalists thought this was against God and against nature because it was a new technology and they were terrified of the future,” he says. “So I went to Belfast in 1973 to sell because I thought I might get a better reception.”
It was at the height of the Troubles, but Costin was warmly welcomed. “I was embraced by Presbyterians and Unionists and all sorts because I was the lifeline for supplies,” Costin says. “They appreciated that I had the liathróidí to do what their English suppliers didn’t have the nerve to do. Better still, they didn’t want to deal with the currency from the South, so I was getting paid in sterling.”
Costin became the first Irish garden designer of the modern age to shine internationally. In 1989, Haughey was asked by the Japanese government if Ireland would participate in the international Expo 91, one of the biggest garden festivals in the world at the time. Costin submitted a design and ended up representing Ireland.
“We went to Osaka in 1990 and built a garden. There was a hidden front on it with the entrance like a miniature Newgrange and Sceilg Mhichíl inside. The Japanese had orgasms of delight looking at it. They’ve kept it in perpetuity in one of their public gardens.”
But it was his well-respected work at Powerscourt in Wicklow that ultimately inspired Costin to create his remarkable home in Portgloriam. “I had the gumption to think I would make a baby Powerscourt here,” he laughs.
Costin is from Ring in Waterford and missed the beauty of the water. To address this deficiency, he decided to excavate a three-acre lake that would sit in front of the house.
In 2003, Costin and his wife Betty went on a research trip to Austria, where they came across a house type at an exhibition that remained cool in the summer but heated up in the winter. They brought this idea home and got in touch with architect Greg Tisdall of Studio D.
“He was absolutely fabulous in his innovative thinking,” Costin says. He also credits Betty’s vision. “Her mind is very intuitive and responds to environments. She doesn’t put a full stop on anything. It was a happy threesome, I can tell you.”
The house has two main receptions, four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The front elevation of Red House faces south and is wholly glazed. The sitting room and kitchen occupy that area. There is a balcony overhead that allows light in, minus the heat from the overhead sun. “It’s wonderful observational science that’s a response to the high heat of summertime,” Costin says.
There is also a utility, WC and bedroom on the ground floor. Upstairs, an overhang on the roof that comes out three or four metres keeps the heat of the high sun out of these rooms in the summer.
On the east side is the master bedroom with ensuite and separate dressing rooms. At the back of the landing is another bedroom. At the front is a library where the Costins sit writing and reading most of the day.
“We’re facing south and it’s a beautiful room. It’s probably what we’ll miss most,” he says. Red House comes with 19.6 acres. The south side is covered in trees, which Costin collected from every continent. Along the west and northern side are red alders from Oregon and Washington. It’s all very natural and doesn’t take much upkeep.
Now the Costins are moving to Mount Juliet. “We’ll be happy to let someone else cut the grass for a change,” says the groundbreaking plants man.