He was the lord of the manor who helped bring rock 'n' roll to the masses in Ireland, ushering in a whole new era of music at the Big House and attracting huge names to play on his lawn at Slane Castle.
Lord Henry Mount Charles, who has died at the age of 74, may have been known as the rock 'n' roll peer, but he also lived a life dedicated to family lineage and local legacy.
Over the past 44 years, he brought the likes of Bruce Springsteen, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Queen, Metallica, U2, and Oasis to perform in the natural amphitheatre in the rolling hills around the River Boyne. Even Madonna, a woman who once fostered her own visions of being a lady of the manor, deigned to take to the stage at Slane on a stormy night in 2005.
Sure, there had been big outdoor rock gigs in Ireland before, but the country was not quite the mecca for big names it is now — and we had certainly never seen anything like the monster gigs held at Slane.
Lord Henry (and the "Lord" part was made up by the Irish media) changed the face and scale of live music in Ireland - annual events like Electric Picnic, All Together Now, and numerous boutique festivals around the country are testament to that.
Not far from the site of one of the most consequential battles in European history, Slane Castle was the perfect venue for live music, as crowds of up to 80,000 flocked to Ireland’s new stately home of rock 'n' roll. Slane was always an event.
The well spoken, dashing, and gentlemanly 8th Marquess Conyngham never looked or sounded like anyone’s idea of a concert impresario.
But behind that accent and tousled elegance, he was a self - styled 'Sixties kid’ and an avid fan of The Kinks, The Who and The Animals while at school in Harrow. As soon as he gained control of the expansive lands around his Boyne - side ancestral home, his rock 'n' roll dreams began to take shape.
After leaving university, Lord Henry initially wanted to forge a career in publishing and worked for Faber & Faber in London. He also worked for the world - famous auction house Sotheby’s and spent time in South Africa as part of an agricultural commission. But then came the phone call from his late father, Frederick, that was to change his life.
"My father rang me," he told Brendan O’Connor on RTÉ Radio 1 in 2021. "I knew that one day I would have to shoulder that responsibility but I didn’t expect it at that stage in my life, and I was hardly going to say no, because the alternative was selling the place — and I couldn’t bear the thought of that — so back I came."
On his return to Slane in 1976, he inherited a bankrupt estate and so, not unlike Lord Grantham and his perennially leaking roof, he set about rescuing his family home from ruin by staging huge outdoor gigs in the grounds. Thin Lizzy, with support from U2, played the first show at the picturesque venue in 1981, followed by The Rolling Stones in 1982.
Recalling that first gig, the man who would become one of Ireland’s leading rock 'n' roll dandies said:
"Those were heady days — it was in the middle of the hunger strikes and it was a pathfinder event. We wanted to lift people’s spirits, we wanted to do something different, and we were accused of all sorts of things — turning the place into Stalag 17, opening the biggest public urinal in Ireland — all this sort of stuff. But rock 'n' roll prevailed."
Since then, Slane has played host to 26 concerts and some of the most memorable shows in Irish rock history, including Bruce Springsteen’s debut Irish gig and two emotionally charged back-to-back shows by U2 in 2001, just days after the death of Bono’s father.
The place has entered Irish rock mythology. Croke Park and the Aviva are all very fine, but Slane always had its own unique sense of magic — and even mystic.
Where else would you witness Henry’s friend, then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Mo Mowlam, sporting a pair of Zig and Zag zogabongs at Robbie Williams in 1999? Or gnarled behemoths Metallica belting out Whiskey in the Jar in front of a sea of 80,000 people? Or the moment Liam Gallagher swaggered up to the mic in 1995 when Oasis supported R.E.M., only to be hit full on the mouth with a sod of turf that came hurtling from the crowd — a moment Noel Gallagher later told me was the funniest thing he’d ever seen in his life?
And for the Springsteen show in 1985, Henry took a leaf from Lord Iveagh’s book and gave free tickets to the Dunnes Stores strikers, who were campaigning against the grocery chain’s refusal to stop selling South African produce during Apartheid.
Given Ireland’s troubled history with the Anglo-Irish ascendancy and Ulster Scots plantations, here at last was a lord of the manor we could get with. However, not everyone was happy with the rocking aristo. To some, he was the ultimate Hooray Henry.
Speaking in 2021, he recalled: "I got some really nasty mail and unsettling threats. 'West Brit' was used frequently as an insult, but the more abuse that was heaped on me, the more it stiffened my resolve to forge ahead. The other thing was that I wanted an event where people came together from all four corners of Ireland to have fun and enjoy themselves by the banks of the Boyne — that in itself being symbolic.
"But it was in the middle of the hunger strikes. There were mock funerals being held in County Meath and I was a son of a peer of the realm. But I was also a guy who had worked on an agricultural commission in South Africa and had gone to Harvard. I was a different person to the veneer.
"I’ve always felt that Ireland is a sea fed by many streams," he added. "I just happen to belong to one stream, which is the Anglo-Irish tradition. I have every right to call myself an Irishman as the person next door."
Like many of his class and religion before him, Lord Henry was committed to a united Ireland and held the view that Unionists must be brought along and convinced they could have a life where their rights are recognised in a "new Ireland".
His own political aspirations, however, came to nought. He unsuccessfully contested the Louth constituency for Fine Gael in the 1992 general election and, in 1997, stood for election to Seanad Éireann for the Dublin University constituency — again without success.
At the 2004 European Parliament election, he was approached by Fine Gael to enter the contest for selection as its candidate for the East constituency. However, when television presenter and agricultural journalist Maireád McGuinness emerged as a potential candidate, he withdrew.
Amid all the highs and celebratory days out at Slane, there were low points. In 1984, Bob Dylan’s gig was marred by a riot in the nearby village, and in 1991, the castle was almost completely destroyed by fire.
His gamekeeper, Timothy Kidman, was killed by poachers on the estate in 1989, and there were two tragedies in the River Boyne on the day of the R.E.M. concert in 1995.
His greatest challenge began when Lord Henry, who gave up smoking over 45 years ago and was a recovering alcoholic, was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2013. He fought it bravely and with characteristic good humour.
For a man who was dedicated to family and to Slane itself, it is quite charming - and again, magical - to think that globally famous acts like The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, and U2 were a huge part of keeping Co Meath history alive and rocking.
In one of his last interviews, he said: "Part of who I am, and what I am, and what I’ve done is keeping this estate together. And now I know my son, Alexander, and his wife are there in the castle, the future is assured.
"Slane — it has a draw, a pull, a fascination, and touches the spirit. I feel like a child of that. To me, there is no other place quite like it, nor will there ever be."
The very popular and much-respected rock 'n’' roll peer will be missed - as a person of great human decency and as a man who brought joy to many, many people. Slane will forever remain a monument to his vision.
