Wicklow

Calary: An Eminent Gathering Of Souls

Adam and Eve in the Garden is an Aubusson tapestry, from the Atelier Tabard Frères et Soeurs (artist website) designed by Louis le Brocquy and dating from 1951-52. Le Brocquy was born in Dublin in 1916 and led a long life which included travelling extensively across continents, always completely engaged in art. He died in Dublin in 2012. On his death, President Michael D Higgins said: ”Today I lament the loss of a great artist and wonderful human being whose works are amongst this country’s most valuable cultural assets and are cherished by us all. Louis leaves to humanity a truly great legacy.” In 2002 the National Gallery of Ireland acquired le Brocquy’s painting ‘A Family’ – the first work by a living artist admitted to its permanent collection.

While out exploring the byways of rural County Wicklow, we chanced upon le Brocquy’s burial place. It’s in the little Church of Ireland graveyard at Calary. We had never heard of it before but – as we reconnoitred – the realisation dawned upon us that this is a very special site. Le Brocquy is probably the most eminent artist interred in these grounds, but he is only one of very many who have presumably chosen to spend eternity in this remote but extremely beautiful corner of rural Ireland. The views towards the not-too-far-away mountains are dramatic.

Le Brocquy’s wife, Anne Madden was born in London in 1932 to an Irish father and an Anglo-Chilean mother, and is still living. Madden spent her first years in Chile, where her Father owned a farm. Madden’s family moved to Corrofin, Ireland when she was ten years old. During the 1950s she met le Brocquy who was then working in London. They married in Chartres Cathedral in 1958 and set up house and studio in Carros in the south of France, where they remained until 2000. The empty plot at Calary beside Louis is presumably saved for her: she will add significantly to the artistic distinction of this community. The plot to the south of him is taken by Anne’s mother – Esther Madden Simpson – and brother – Jeremy Madden Simpson.

Anne Madden and Louis le Brocquy, 1974 (public domain). From that year onwards the family spent long summers on the Beara Peninsula.

A relatively recent gravestone added to Calary is this one, dating from 2018. It remembers Nicole Fischer, a viola player with the RTE Concert Orchestra and the Amici String Trio. Sadly, her death occurred when she was in the prime of her life.

This impressive and beautiful gravestone is the work of Wicklow sculptor Séighean Ó Draoi. There are a number of unusual markers within this site: every one tells a story, of course.

Maurice Carey led a distinguished life in the Church of Ireland. He served as Dean of Cork from 1971 to 1993, when he retired, and in retirement returned to his native Dublin where he was in charge of St John’s Church, Sandymount. While in Cork, Dean Carey presided over a period of great change in St Fin Barre’s Cathedral and he was instrumental in setting up the St Fin Barre’s Study Centre.  He also achieved much in the musical and liturgical life of the cathedral.  “. . . His freshness of mind contributed greatly to this success and he was kind and helpful to younger clergy at the start of their ministry . . .” (obituary).

This stone belongs to Ronnie: Ronald James Wathen, who was born in 1934 and died before his time, in 1993. He was famed as a poet but also climbed mountains – and played the Uilleann pipes (https://www.discogs.com/artist/365089-Ronnie-Wathen):

The poet’s printed obituary sums up a notably eccentric life:

. . . I feel there may be a ‘most individual and bewildering ghost’ glaring with mock ferocity over my shoulder, a restless shade who would never forgive me if I tried to bury him with platitudes. Ronnie Wathen was quite spectacularly different: unpredictable, provocative, abrasive yet stimulating in argument, generous with himself, always able to see and articulate the quirky side of life. In Ireland Ronnie’s first poems appeared and many slim volumes were to follow. He had a most splendid, if unruly, facility with words. Usually he employed them seriously but he also loved frolicking with them, standing them on their heads just for fun. He wrote about anything and everything that caught his fancy, as a poet should . . . the last I saw of Ronnie was when he strode off up the road to do a kindness to an old friend. I must end with a grumble. Ronnie was an insomniac, never known to leave a party until very late. His parting prank was to quit the party of life far too early, at the age of 58, just to tease I like to think. It was a cruel jest . . . he held his final party at the little church of Calary, below Sugarloaf Mountain, in the verdant lap of his beloved Wicklow Hills. On that sunny autumn afternoon many, many friends crowded the church, farewells were spoken in prose and verse, laments welled up from three of the finest pipers in Ireland and a lone fiddler knelt by the open grave and hauntingly played the restless Ronnie to his rest . . .

Mike Banks

Conor Anthony Farrington was born in Dublin in June, 1928. His distinguished career included writing a number of plays for radio and theatre. Notable, certainly, were: Death of Don Juan (1951), The Tribunal (1959), The Good Shepherd (1961) and The Ghostly Garden (1964). ‘The Language of Drama’ in The Dubliner (July-August 1962) concludes the following: “…there are three reasons for a ‘radical alteration in the language of drama’ – viz, ‘the audience’s reason’, the ‘actor’s reason’, and ‘the dramatist’s reason’ – since ‘it is actually by means of particular words and phrases that he discovers his character’…” In later years appeared a collection of short stories (Cork: Fish Publishing 1996).

Another effectively simple slab remembers the sculptor Frank Morris, born in Arklow, Co Wicklow. He spent some years working with the Irish Forestry Department: while there he became a skilled wood-carver. The Dictionary of Irish Biography states that “. . . Carving for him was akin to peeling an onion to reveal the form within . . .” He also developed skills in sign-writing and letter-cutting. Have a look at his magnificent beaten copper door in the Holy Redeemer Church in Dundalk:

It’s interesting to find a Jewish grave in a rural Irish parish: Evelyn and Bruno Achilles (above and below).

In the 1930s The Schools Folklore Collection produced some memorable notes about the parish of Calary:

. . . Glasnamullen is our town land and there are nine families in it. Calary is the name of our parish. There are about twenty-six people in this townland. Sutton is the most common name in this district as their are four in Glasnamullen. All the houses in our town land is slated, but there are three or four thatched houses outside the townland. This place is called Glasnamullen as long as anyone can remember. Mr Arthur Sutton is seventy six, he lives in Glasnamullen, but Mr Fortune is one hundred and Mr Stokes is eighty six. They dont know any Irish, but they are great for telling stories in English. When my father was small he used to get Mr Stokes to tell him stories. Mr Fleming told me a story about Mr Byrne, The Paddock, Kilpedder. Once upon a time a man was cutting down a hawthorn tree in an old fort and as soon as he did a wind rose and took it away and over his head were thousands of birds. No one ever knew where the hawthorn went to, but everyone said that the fairies must have done it. They never plough the land owing to that. St Kevin is said to have blessed a little well beside a river in Ballinstowe. Every one goes and drinks it when they have colds. It is also said it has the power to cure sore eyes. There are pieces of cloth on the bushes around it left by people whose eyes were cured . . .

Muriel Taylor, aged 14
Schools Folklore Collection

“Beware of the Witches you meet in the ditches, between Calary bog and Ballinastowe.” – a local saying!

The ‘fishy’ gates to the graveyard are also artistically wrought.

Zoltan Zinn-Collis was a holocaust survivor. Many thanks to our friend Paul Smith for sending us this information.

I have concluded that this fairly recent grave (2011) is in memory of a mariner. You can see that the inscription is within a porthole – and there is an illustration of a sailing boat. After much searching, I came across a funeral notice – here is a brief summary:

. . . HANNA Simon (late of Bray, Co Wicklow, formerly of New Zealand) – September 7, 2011, suddenly, son of Meg and the late Pat Hanna and brother of Tim, Mike, Pete, Kristin and Jane; sadly missed by his partner Sonja (McEnroe), her daughter Tali and her partner Danny, his sons Rowan, Aiden, Kieran and their mother Ann, his mother, brothers and sisters, extended family and many friends. Reposing in the factory workshop, Mill Lane, Bray from 4pm to 9pm tomorrow (Sunday). Removal on Monday to Calary Parish Church arriving for a Funeral Service at 2.00 o’clock followed by interment in the adjoining churchyard . . .

Funeral Notice

This is not an exhaustive account of the graves in Calary: it’s a selection only. Hopefully it’s sufficient to send you in this direction if you find yourself over in the east. It’s a beautifully atmospheric place. Let’s finish where we started – with a Louis le Brocquy tapestry. This is: Garlanded Goat 1949-50, Aubusson tapestry, Atelier Tabard Frères et Soeurs (artist website).

Exploring Ancient Drowned Landscapes

‘Drowned Landscapes’ – that’s an adequate enough description for us to look again at a subject which RWJ covered five years ago in this post: Tralong Bay, Co Cork – give it a read. I was reminded of the subject when we took part in an Archaeology Festival based in West Kerry just a week ago: Amanda’s current holy well blog describes the expeditions. One of the sites visited was Bunaneer Drowned Forest, where we saw stumps of trees on the beach there which were alive thousands of years ago. At low tide many tree remains become visible at Bunaneer, near Castlecove village on the south coast of Kerry’s Iveragh Peninsula. Our guides for this expedition were plant biologist Calum Sweeney and archaeologist Aoibheann Lambe.

This large jumble of roots (above) is known as Goliath. All the remains here can be seen at regular low tides: at other similar sites elsewhere in Ireland, remains of ancient tree boles and roots are only revealed when tides are exceptionally low. I find it remarkable to be able to see and readily touch these archaic pieces of timber: we are communing with distant history!

Carbon dating has shown that these remains were alive between three and a half and five millennia ago. This is evidence that sea levels were significantly lower then, and that the shore line was further out – perhaps 50 metres from where we see it today. We are constantly – and quite rightly – being warned about rising sea levels resulting from our changing climate in the long term: here we see clear verification that it’s a continuing – and now apparently accelerating – process.

Our friends Robin and Sue Lewando were also on this expedition. Robin has a particular interest in sea-level changes in the Late Quaternary and subsequent eras, and he pointed me to a 2015 paper which explores the subject specifically in the Bantry Bay area of West Cork. That’s a good place to be looking at ancient history: remember the story of Cessair – Noah’s daughter-in-law – who came ashore at Donemark? You first read about it here! So this is a scientific diagram which sets out how sea-levels have been changing over time in our locality:

It’s an interesting comparison to take our horizons wider in our study of changing sea levels across the islands of Ireland. Over on the east coast – north of Bray, Co Wicklow – there is another substantial area where tree remains have been revealed at certain tidal conditions.

Above are the areas of beach between Bray and Killiney where ‘drowned forest’ remains have been observed. While at Youghal, Co Cork, further finds have occured:

This example catches our interest because the name of the settlement – Youghal – is derived from the Irish word ‘Eochaill’ meaning ‘Yew Woods’: they were evidently once common in the area, leading us to wonder whether the tree remains in this instance are of yew. In 2014 the following account of another ‘ancient drowned forest’ discovery appeared in the Irish Times (photograph courtesy of Joe O’Shaughnessy):

. . . Walking out on to the shoreline at low tide, geologist Prof Mike Williams points to the oak, pine and birch stumps and extensive root systems which were once part of woodlands populated by people, wolves and bears. These woodlands extended out into lagoons and marshlands that pre-dated the formation of Galway bay, Prof Williams says.

An extensive layer of peat also exposed at low tide in the same location in Spiddal was formed by organic debris which once carpeted the forest floor. The stumps at Spiddal are surrounded by root systems which are largely undisturbed. The carpet of peat is covered in strands of a reed called phragmites, which can tolerate semi- saline or brackish conditions.

“These trees are in their original growth position and hadn’t keeled over, which would suggest that they died quite quickly, perhaps in a quite rapid sea level rise,” Prof Williams adds. Up until 5,000 years ago Ireland experienced a series of rapid sea level rises, he says. During the mid-Holocene period, oak and pine forests were flooded along the western seaboard and recycled into peat deposits of up to two metres thick, which were then covered by sand.

Prof Williams estimates that sea level would have been at least five metres lower than present when the forests thrived, and traces of marine shell 50cm below the peat surface suggest the forest floor was affected by very occasional extreme wave events such as storm surges or tsunamis. He says most west coast sand-dune systems date to a “levelling” off period in sea level change about 5,000 years ago. Dunes in Doolin, Co Clare, are older still, having first formed around 6,500 years ago.

Prof Williams has located tree stumps in south Mayo and Clare, along with Galway, which have been carbon dated to between 5,200 and 7,400 years ago at the chrono centre at Queen’s University, Belfast. Some of the trees were nearly 100 years old when they perished . . .

Lorna Siggins
Irish Times 07/03/2014

Goliath, West Kerry, November 2023

Bray Railway Station Murals

In a recent post I gave some examples of public art which can be seen on the railway station at Bray, Co Wicklow. I think this subject deserves a more comprehensive airing, so here we go! Just to recap, murals were originally painted here by Jay Roche and John Carter, who won a competition in 1987. Over the years the paintings deteriorated, and were replaced by the same team – assisted by Anthony Kelly and Eileen Maguire – with a very fine set of tiled murals. I’m recording the rest of these in this post, as I am so impressed by the overall work.

Each panel represents a decade in the line’s history. You’ll have to decide for yourselves which decade is which . . .

If only that newspaper headline was really true!

From Wiki Commons 2007: A Panel for Every Decade since 1850s in Bray Railway Station. These are the painted murals.

(Above) some of the painted murals in a fairly advanced state of decay: probably early 2000s. The tiled murals are loosely based on the subjects of the originals, but the artists have respected the variations that the change of medium calls out for:

I mentioned – in Taking Notes – that Brunel was responsible for the line that runs through Bray. Here he is, standing on Bray Station:

And here (above) – also one of the tiled murals on Bray Station – is a portrait of William Dargan. As you can see – considered ‘Father of the Irish Railways’ – Dargan lived from 1799 to 1867. He engineered over 1300 km of railways in Ireland. Working firstly in the UK he was an assistant to Thomas Telford, and oversaw the construction of roads and canals in the Midlands. He returned to Ireland in the 1820s and took an interest in promoting railways here. The first public commuter railway system in Ireland was designed and built by Dargan: it opened in 1834 and ran between Dublin and Kingstown, now Dún Laoghaire. The line as built was ‘standard gauge’ (ie 1,453mm between rails). This was converted to the ‘Irish standard’ of 1,600mm in 1857. The line extended south to Bray in 1854, and to Greystones the following year.

Isambard Kingdom Brunel, an engineer of Britain’s Great Western Railway, informed the Dublin and Kingstown Railway board that he was planning to build a line into South Wales and start a new sea route from Fishguard to Rosslare. He suggested a joint venture for a line from Wexford to Dublin. A coastal route from Bray (rather than inland) was chosen specifically because it would be scenically attractive for travellers. This led to engineering difficulties including tunnels and retaining structures which are still evolving to this day.

Brunel’s vision of a line going from the capital to Wexford and linking with a service of Irish Sea ferries has been fully realised, and is taken for granted. Let’s hope that this line is maintained and continues on far into the future.

I hope you have noticed how the design of the rolling stock has been changing as we go back through the decades. The representation on these murals is accurate, as far as I can see.

I was sorry to miss the sight of restored steam locomotives and carriages coming through Bray and Greystones on Sunday 24 September this year. Here’s a previous Steam Express visit to Wicklow in 2022 (courtesy Irish Independent):

Here in the West we did have some very singular railway lines – look at these posts: The Great Southern Railway: Headford Junction to Kenmare; Aspects of Baltimore; The Flying Snail and Tracking the Trains. Sadly, it’s no longer possible to travel by train in our region: all lines west of Cork City closed on 31 March 1961. Before that you could get to Skibbereen, Ballydehob, and Schull, Bantry and Baltimore and even, on a little branch line, to Timoleague and Courtmacsherry. Don’t we miss those opportunities?

Taking Notes

Regular readers will know that I am always on the lookout, in Ireland, for signs of all kinds. They may be humorous, informative or historical – like the one above. This is on the railway station in Bray, County Wicklow. Back in 1987 a competition to design painted murals to enhance the station platforms was won by Jay Roche and John Carter, who produced 19 panels to illustrate the railway through its history.

As you can see from this picture of Bray Station taken yesterday, the panels certainly brighten up this much-used civic concourse.

. . . Each panel is like a window into the past that tells a story about the people, dress or time of the mural. One mural signifying the 1920s, makes reference to a man in a Black and Tan uniform.  On the website Mural to Mosaic, which chronicles the progress of the project, the artists state they are trying to show that dramatic events were unfolding around that significant time in Irish history . . .


The Daily Edge Newsletter 2012

You’ll have noticed that the panels are now made of mosaic. The painted originals suffered from wear and deterioration and the same artists, assisted by Anthony Kelly and Eileen Maguire, have in recent times transformed all of them into the new medium. I think the result of the earlier concept and its newer manifestation are excellent, and provide a great visual diversion for anyone waiting for a train or a Dart (Dublin Area Rapid Transport). In fact, it’s worth missing a train in order to fully appreciate the artwork!

Isambard Kingdon Brunel is the engineer credited with planning the line which, in 1844, was intended to be ‘broad gauge’ all the way to Rosslare. Here he is in a Bray station mosaic, above. I’ll return to this railway in a future post as the full story of it is well worth the telling – even though it’s not West Cork (which, of course had its own interesting railway line).

Before leaving behind the railway, here’s a photo of Bray Head (courtesy of Irish Defence Forces) taken after a gorse fire in the summer of 2018. As well as the Bray to Greystones line you can see the outline of the EIRE sign that was put there in ‘the Emergency’: one of over 80 such signs dotted along the coast, it was a warning to aircraft of all persuasions that they were flying over neutral Ireland.

. . . The ‘Éire’ signs were erected around the Irish coastline from the summer of 1943 onwards, a period when overflights of Irish territory and forced landings of belligerent aircraft (mainly Allied) had increased dramatically. In keeping with the De Valera* government’s policy of discreetly co-operating with the Allies, Allied air crews who landed in Ireland were assumed to be ‘non-operational’, and therefore were not detained (a fact that the Germans noted with displeasure). It made more sense to all concerned, however, if such forced landings could be avoided and so the ‘Éire’ signs were erected to ensure that pilots knew that they were flying over Irish territory . . .

Royal Irish Academy Newsletter

*See our header pic for another reference to Dev!

The EIRE sign above is very clearly delineated: it’s on the cliffs at Toe Head, in ‘our’ County Cork.

This Post Office sign has been kept intact, probably for reasons of nostalgia. I’d doubt there are many today who would proudly proclaim that the sale of cigarettes is one of their mainstays.

(Above) – I couldn’t resist the enigma of this signwriting . . .

. . . But I think the one above leaves us in no doubt who it speaks to.

I’d like to understand the meaning of this Irish road name: one AI translator told me it is ‘thought position’, another ‘location avenue’ . . .

No comment on the two signs above. The following, however, provokes some questions – a window on someone’s world?

What world does this gate open up to?

Promises, promises . . . But I think they found it:

Sugar Loaf

We were unexpectedly in County Wicklow, and had a day or two of sunshine. To take advantage of this, we found our way up to the Great Sugar Loaf, with every good intention of climbing to its peak – 501 metres above sea level. I’ll come clean and mention that the starting point for the walk is already halfway up this elevation – and also we didn’t make it all the way on this occasion, as we were heavily overdressed! Only yesterday we still seemed to be in the grip of a very harsh winter, so had assumed that gloves, scarves and thick jackets would be the order of the day. In fact, quite a few other climbers were clad in tee shirts and shorts…

The upper view was taken on the path going up to the top – this morning. The lower view – taken a couple of years ago from Bray Head – gives a good impression of the Great Sugar Loaf (the furthest peak on the right) as the high point in a range, rather than a lone conical summit. There is also a Little Sugar Loaf which – in this view – is the high point in the central range in the photo. From other places, the ‘Little’ loaf also appears like a conical ‘peak’. Have a look at the pic below, where I have tried to show both ‘cones’ in the same view.

This photo, which dates from the early 1900s, is taken from the old beach in Greystones: the Little Sugar Loaf is over to the left, while the ‘Great’ one is at the left end of the further ridge (photo by William Alfred Green (1870–1958) – courtesy of Ulster Folk Museum). Below – the same view of the two ‘sugar loaves’ taken from the Marina, Greystones, today.

Here’s another view of the ‘Great’ loaf, with further pics of today’s adventures below, including the prospects from on the hill:

The area deserves considerable further exploration. The extracts below are from the Schools Folklore Collection, recorded in the 1930s: valuable commentary and memories collected from local inhabitants.

. . . If we were to visit Kilmacanogue over a hundred years ago it would present to us a very different appearance from what it does now. Our journey would be by the end of the Sugar Loaf Hotel of today, up the school lane, turning west for about a quarter of a mile and crossing the present day Rocky Valley road and following in a south-western direction along the foot of Sugar Loaf mountain. On our left was a church (in Brerton’s Garden) but not even the ruins of this remain. It is said the monks fled from this church in the Penal days, burying behind them their gold chalice, which still lies hidden in the field still know as the Church field. The road leading from Kilmacanogue to Kilmurry (now known as the Old Road) was the Coach Road between Dublin and Wexford. At the Kilmurry end there is a plot of ground about one acre known as Kilmurry Green which is believed to have been an old burial ground. The lane leading off from this road to the present main road near Kilmurry Dispensary locally known as Connolly’s Lane is supposed to have been lined with houses. The field on the North side of this lane (now in the possession of Miss Powell) is called the Street Field which indicates that a village must have been there at one time. The south part of Kilmurry Green contains the sites of two buildings – the stones, are still to be seen there, which marked the foundation of the gable. Traces of graves remain, though the place has not been used as a burying ground within any person’s memory . . .

Schools folklore Collection Kilmacanogue, Bray
Teacher: Caitlín Ní Chuinneáin

The Great Sugarloaf was a popular subject for artists. Examples are these watercolours: from Views of Bray and the Sugarloaf, County Wicklow, circa 1820 John Henry Campbell (1757-1828) – Whytes.ie. Back to the Schools Folklore Collection: we were particularly interested in the mentions of Red Lane, where there was evidently once a church, burial ground and holy well: it is said that none of these are visible today, but we will pencil in some further visits to have a closer explore.

. . . At the Southern extremity of Kilmurry bordering on Calary are two ruins which are popularly called Leghteampall or the Monasteries. These ruins stand in two adjacent fields, separated by a narrow lane (Red Lane). They lie east and west of each other in the Kelly’s and Whelan’s land, that in the west forming a square of thirty two yards each way. On the south side stands an angle of ancient wall built of stones and mortar 4′ 2″ high 2′ 2″ thick. There is a clump of stones and thorns at the north side 30′ long by 12′ broad and 2’2′ in height. There is an ancient holly tree in full vigour at the south-east angle a cross is cut in the tree and funerals stopped here and recited the prayers for the dead. About thirty yards east of there are the traces of an ancient church. A few stones of irregular shape remain in the foundation of the south wall; the stones appear to have been carried away from the north side within a comparatively late period. A heap of stones and rubbish occupies the place of the western gable, along which lies a large shapeless lump of a stone, having at the top a rudely formed cavity 7″ deep and 9″ in diameter at top, narrowing gradually to the bottom. This was a holy water stoup, one of the rudest ecclesiastical antiquities. An ancient decayed ash tree stands on the north of the church and graves may be traced in several places around it, though it has not been used as a burying ground for a long time. About a furlong south west of this place is a holy well called Bride’s Well (in Chapman’s Lane) at which Patrons were held, but none was held there within the last forty years . . .

Schools folklore Collection Kilmacanogue, Bray
Teacher: Caitlín Ní Chuinneáin

This winter scene is courtesy of Wiki Commons: we would like to visit at that time of the year, although the mountain may well not be hospitable then. Below – that’s the somewhat unusual gateway to the car-park at the Great Sugarloaf: take care when entering!

Rathgall Hillfort

Our journeys in search of important Irish archaeology can take us a long way from home. Today’s subject – the impressive Rathgall Hillfort – is located in County Wicklow, on the east side of the island. But it is well worth a long journey: its size is impressive – it occupies an 18 acre site. And the history of the place goes as far back as the Neolithic age. We visited on a brisk spring day, when the clouds were determined to contribute to our appreciation of this monument.

The size and longevity of this hillfort push it into a rare category. The substantial central rampart of stone walling is medieval, but the outer rings of stone and earth appear to have considerably earlier dates.

. . . Rathgall was a site of quite exceptional importance in the centuries spanning the birth of Christ, an importance that was clearly pan-European. The variety of structural information that the excavation yielded is unprecedented in the Bronze Age and the extraordinary concentration of artifactual evidence from the site has not been matched elsewhere in the country. Rathgall opens a wide range of questions concerning, not merely the nature of the Ireland’s later Bronze Age, but also the role of the hillfort in contemporary cultural developments . . .

Professor Barry Rafferty 2004

Plan of the hillfort and surrounding earthworks taken from the site notice board. Red lines indicate the site excavations. This board states that:

. . . Rathgall Hillfort is a hilltop settlement enclosed and defended by four concentric ramparts which can be dated to the early and middle Neolithic period . . . The outer three ramparts are stone and earthen banks and are likely to be prehistoric in date. Within the central enclosure there is evidence of metalworking, a cemetery and a round house; all dating to the Late Bronze Age . . .

The two photographs above are taken from the time of archaeological investigations which commenced in 1969. The results of those excavations, which covered a number of years, have yet to be formally published. [Late edit: Elizabeth Shee has informed us that the findings will be published this summer by Wordwell, through the work of Katherina Becker of UCC. Many thanks, Elizabeth, we will look our for that]. The investigations found evidence that this was the site of an important and busy Bronze Age factory for metalworking (axe and spearheads, swords) and for pottery, jewellery and glass beads. In total over 50,000 pottery fragments were found, as well as 3,000 bronze and gold artefacts.

Rathgall from the early OS map. The importance of the site was realised and kept in use by successive generations.

Our knowledge of the societies that centred their life on settlements such as these in Ireland is sparse: here, and elsewhere, we are left with evidence of their stone structures (which will outlast us) but also intriguing finds – the following quotations summarize some of Professor Rafferty’s work here (courtesy of Rath Community Group and The Heritage Council):

1969 – 1971 . . . It took over 3 years to dig out the entire 15 metre wide section of the inner circle. Within an hour of starting work, he [Professor Rafferty] had located pottery pieces. Over 10,000 finds were from the inner circle; glass objects, clay moulds, stone and gold objects. Post holes indicate that there was a small house-like structure within the circle. The ditches were filled in with black material among the stones. An oval pit was discovered near the centre of the house. It had a carefully placed large boulder on top of black material almost covering the pit. The pit had been back filled in with yellow clay around the boulder. When the black clay was taken out, they found a small gold-plated copper ring, 1 cm wide approx, embedded in burnt baby’s bones. They came to the conclusion that this was a ritual burial pit . . .

1972 – 1973 . . . They moved to the southern slope of outside of the inner circle and were getting 400 finds per day. Prof Rafferty got down to prehistoric levels after 1 foot in some places. This area was “jampacked with artefacts, glass, gold, animal bones, pottery and basket remains.” Rabbits had done a lot of damage and stones were removed by people over the years. They found hundreds of clay mould fragments embedded in a black clay-like substance. Clay moulds are always broken when found as they could only be used once. The moulds were made for swords or whatever was needed: copper was poured in and in order to get out the sword etc, the mould had to be broken. He found a smaller crucible with traces of lead in it, parts of blades of swords or rapiers, spearheads, cauldron legs but not the cauldron . . .

1974 . . . In Bronze age times people were buried crouched down in a foetal position and put in a clay pot. The remains of a female and child were discovered in such a clay pot at Rathgall, buried in a pit underneath large slab stones. Eighty eight glass beads were uncovered, which is the largest quantity found in any Bronze Age site in Ireland. These beads are 1 – 3 cm wide, mostly circular in shape, blue-green in colour and with a hole in them. This collection is unprecedented in the late Bronze Age of Ireland and is also one of the largest from a single site as yet discovered in Western Europe (Rafferty and Henderson 1987). Prof Rafferty found a 2cm twisted gold cylinder with its ends finely hammered and a dark green glass bead mounted in the middle, 2 – 3cm wide. Tiny delicate loops of gold were attached to each end. This is an object of great beauty and advanced technological expertise. He also found a metal disc with mercury gilding on it. Mercury gilding was used to stick gold to bronze. He got this piece analysed by the British museum and the piece was dated back to 1000 BC. Before it was analysed, the Irish professionals were uninclined to believe that this came from Ireland as nowhere in the world had mercury gilding been found that dated back further than 400 BC. Prof Rafferty felt that this emphasised the exceptional importance of the Rathgall site . . .

While visiting this site I was reminded of an adventure we had last summer in Northern Ireland. You’ll find it here. There we discovered The Giant’s Ring: that earthwork struck us as ‘gigantic’. But it only occupies an area of 2.8 hectares. Our latest exploration is over 7 hectares! That makes it Cyclopean, surely! While this Co Wicklow site has been examined by archaeologists, we certainly don’t yet have all the answers as to why it existed, nor do we know everything we would like to about those who built it. We just can’t help expressing a sense of wonder at this – and other – artefacts which have made their marks on our landscapes. We are grateful to those who have explored and labelled these sites, and also to those who make sure they are conserved for our future generations, who might find more answers than we do as to their origins.