Samhain Approaches - And Meath Beckoned

Samhain marks the end of the summer season and harvest and the beginning of winter or the ‘darker half’ of the year, lying between the Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice it is now associated and known as Halloween. It potentially also marks one of the last opportunitues to get away on the bikes for the weekend; salt will soon be added to the roads and the nights are drawing in at an alarming rate. As with most mythical and mythological cycles, Meath seems to be an appropriate destination to coincide with them, and in the gloom of late October, we duly set off. This time, though, a hostel was booked as without the proper equipment, it's a little cold to camp!

Samhain is also supposedly the Celtic pagan New Year, the word is thought to be derived from the Irish samhradh (summer) so that Samhain means ‘summer's end’. It was seen as a liminal time when fairies and other spirits could more easily come into the physical world; these spirits and fairies were known as the Aos Sí - in Irish Aos Sí means ‘people of the mounds’ (the mounds are known in Irish as the ‘sídhe’ from which Sí is derived, hence it is no coincidence that many sites associated with ancient ritual, burial and religion are mounds). Due to the belief that mounds are where these supernatural race are believed to have retreated, they were also known as the Síth (which is probably where Star Wars got that derivative from!). With the doorways to the otherworld supposedly open at Samhain and through these mounds, it is the opposite of the summer festival of Beltane (which was for the 'living') and was, essentially, a 'festival of the dead'. Although modern Halloween is a complete skew and bastardization of any pagan festival! There are two main sites that are associated with Samhain; Tlachtga (Hill of Ward) and the Hill of Tara. At the latter the Mound of Hostages is mooted to align with the Samhain rising sun although modern interpretation places more importance on Tlachta (named after the goddess/druid Tlachta from Irish mythology who is said to have given birth to triplets on the site).

A Natural Cycle

Given the auspicious time of year, it was with more than a little disappointment that Friday night had become sodden with heavy rain which fell over Belfast, and as Kivi, Dee and I left the Odyssey Arena area there were girls queued for One Direction getting drenched in what can only be described as inappropriate clothing! I laughed as the rain bounced my helmet. I knew that the forecast was to clear as we travelled southwards towards Drogheda, and sure enough once we had filtered through the nightmarish traffic on the M1 the clouds thinned, if only slightly, but by now the bikes were caked in grime from passing lorries and other traffic. We arrived at Newgrange Lodge in the pitch black and cool night, relieved that a warm room had been booked, rather than having to faff over putting a tent up! I had a list of sites prepared that were within a 16 mile radius between Drogheda and Navan, but that was for Saturday, all we had to do was relax in comfort that evening. I was, though, slightly wearisome and perturbed; I can't put my finger on why - perhaps it is a natural cycle of things, perhaps it is the time of year and an inevitable slight 'shutting down' that matches the season, but it was an emotion in the back of my subconscious that I would not be able to shake.

View of the Boyne from Ardmulchan

We awoke to the continental style breakfast the next morning which was devoured with gusto, after which we were on the road, the bikes lighter without the panniers. Our first destination was via the backroads to Ardmulchan Church site, perched majestically overlooking the Boyne River and valley with Dunmoe Castle on the opposite ridge. The site at Ardmulchan is almost eery, but we clambered onto the site regardless, maybe is was the stillness of the Autumn air or that we were seemingly the only people for miles. The site has a long history; at some time before 1199 Ardmulchan was granted to Theobald Walter le Botiller, but by 1212 the manor had reverted to the de Lacy's and was retained by Hugh de Lacy until passing to the de Genevilles. This was at a time when defence of the Boyne was vital to the Normans in Meath.

Ardmulchan Church and Tower

A substantial motte was built, along with a church and several chapels rebuilt on pre-Norman foundations; the church tower - the site is somewhat dominated by this [bell] tower at the west end of the site - is still accessible to 1st floor level. It has been postulated that the tower may be as early as 13th or 14th century in date, with the rest of the ruins potentially dating to the 15th century. The views over the Boyne from the 1st floor windows were breath-taking - the trees had all begun turning shades of gold and crimson and there was still the remnants of the morning mist on the river surface. We attempted to see the old headstones – some of which are little more than worn stone stumps, weathered in the exposed position over centuries of Irish weather. 

I am something of a coffee fiend at the best of times but it seems a vital component, for me at least, of biking weekends are coffee stops, but I had begun to crave caffeine and I know Kivi and Dee were the same, so we stopped in Navan to search for a suitable café. There was, though, something of a lull with the realisation that many of the sites in the immediate area we had previously visited. However, the fort and museum at Millmount in Drogheda would be a new place to visit.

Millmount Fort (Drogheda)

The site that is visible today was consolidated in the 12th century when the invading Normans built a motte and bailey castle on the site. However, it is thought that the mound was a pre-existing neolithic passage tomb (something that the current museum is awaiting the results back from remote sensing to verify). In Irish myth, the pre-existing mound is cited as the burial place of Amhairgin mac Míled / Amergin Glúingel: in the Irish Mythological Cycle he was the bard and judge for the Milesians (in the Lebor Gabála Érenn the Milesians are the final race to settle in Ireland). He was appointed Chief Ollam of Ireland by his two brothers the kings of Ireland. A number of poems attributed to him are part of the Milesian mythology and the shamanistic early Irish poem "The Song of Amhairgin" which is part of the story of his entry into Ireland by the River Boyne is conventionally regarded as the first Irish poem.

Hugh de Lacy built the original fort around 1172, having been granted the Kingdom of Meath by Henry II, it is likely that this early motte had a timber palisade and castle, with a stone structure added later. The castle also formed part of the defences of the town during the siege of Drogheda during the Cromwellian invasion of Ireland in 1649. The fort's English defenders attempted to surrender to Parliamentarian troops under Oliver Cromwell but were massacred when they gave themselves up on 11 September 1649. The fort suffered considerable damage during the Irish Civil War; it was occupied by Anti-Treaty forces and on 4th July 1922 was shelled by the army of the Irish Free State. From the top of the mound the views to Drogheda are quite unbelievable, the panorama is both beautiful and almost slightly daunting, you can understand why it was chosen as a site for burial and subsequent fortification in the first place; the landscape simply stretches out to the horizon and at this time of year the greens are augmented with the golden Autumn colours.

The Road That Flanks The River

The afternoon had drawn in and the temperature had noticeably reduced – part and parcel of travelling at this time of year. Back at the Lodge we got ready to proceed to Navan for a curry, we took the twisting and undulating L1600 that flanks the Boyne to the town, the road is not lit which enabled a spectacular view of the sky with the sun setting and dusk quickly becoming night, the journey was glorious. Once the meal had been eaten and we were standing outside we realised that the temperature had fallen even further as it was a clear night this, however, ensured the journey home was by starlight - what a way to travel anywhere!

Termonfeckin (tower house) Castle

I awoke on Sunday with a heaviness that was, perhaps, a continuation of the weariness I alluded to earlier. I was glad when I was able to ride with the visor up and the helmet in half-face mode, the fresh and cool air rushed at my face and into my lungs, providing a form of rejuvenation. This sensation was heightened when we took, exclusively, the small 'B' roads to Termonfeckin which was quiet on this bank holiday Sunday morning; the quietness idyllic for both my frame of mind and this bike ride.

Termonfeckin is from the Irish Tearmann Féichín which means 'Féchín's refuge' (Féchín [of Fore] also known as Mo-Ecca, was a 7th-century Irish saint who founded a monastic site in AD665 in the village). The monastic settlement was plundered by Vikings in 1013, by the Ui-Crichan of Farney in 1025 and again in 1149 by raiders from Bregia (Meath). After the Anglo-Norman colonisation of Louth in the late 1100's, the village evolved into a medieval borough which was sufficiently important to have possessed a parish church (on the site of the present Church of Ireland) and two castles. Both of these appear to have been tower houses although only one is now left. The surviving castle is a 15th or 16th century three storey rectangular building which originally had projecting towers. However, it has been the subject of major alterations at some time in its history, particularly on the ground storey, these alterations are possibly the work of Captain Brabazon who is documented as having 'repaired' the castles in Termonfeckin in 1641. We were able to gain access from the keyholder and ramble and clamber about the ample ruins to our heart’s content. What is most surprising is that the interior ceilings are corbelled – which is the same building technique as the roof of the prehistoric passage tomb at Newgrange – even the little guard turrets at roof level are also corbelled. 

Having taken the 'B' roads and found them to be rather spectacular, we decided that this was a good course of action to continue with, Louth was turning into something of a revelation and we continued through mainly farmland to Dromiskin monastic site. As we parked beside the enclosure wall and gate the stunted round tower and ruined (more modern) church projected an unsettling 'vibe' - at least to me. The site is located beside a housing estate and everything seemed incongruous.

Dromiskin Round Tower

Dromiskin is from the Irish Druim/Droim Ineasclainn and the area seems to have developed around the religious settlement. The first monument to strike you is the stunted and rather stubby round tower, but it appears sturdier as a result. There is a ruined, more modern church that gave me a chill to look at, now it looks dilapidated and quite sad with it's barred and caged windows. The whole site has an uneasy feeling, for me it did not feel peaceful, it was slightly unsettling, as if the site itself is somehow angry about being largely forgotten. Usually I find sites such as these tranquil, and it affords some ruminative contemplation.

It is strange as the history of the site is long and quite extensive; the first presiding abbot was Lugaidh, son of Aengus mac Nadfraoch the first Christian king of Munster, who died c.515. The next recorded abbot was St. Ronan who died in 664. Áed Findliath (King of Ireland, son of Niall Caille), retired to and died at Dromiskin in approximately AD879. Congalach, son of Gairbidh, King of Conailli was slain in AD913 in the refectory of the monastery, after he destroyed the abbot’s house at Dromiskin, but the early Medieval period was not to be kind to the monastery; the constant plundering by both Viking and native Irish would destroy the Abbey and disperse the monks. Annudh macRuaire rampaged through the territory in 1043 and Dromiskin was destroyed. The ecclesiastical site was subsequently abandoned and the monks took refuge in the neighbouring Abbey of St. Mochta's. The site, for me, was altogether odd - as if it had no place in the landscape, although how much of that is due to the modern town developing around it I don't know. Maybe it was my mindset and perception rather than any architectural or planning issue, I was starting to get tired at this stage of the weekend and, in truth, was actually quite keen to get home, as if my mind and body had reached some form of natural 'conclusion' with instinct taking over.  

Kerlingfjǫrðr
The coastal route northwards seemed logical, they are enjoyable roads on a bike (provided the traffic is kind) and picturesque with a range of landscapes from mountains, to tree lined sloped to dynmaic ocean beaches. It would also take in the exceptionally quaint Medieval town of Carlingford - somewhere I find myself wanting to visit again and again. Usually thronged with daytrippers keen to take in the mountains, picturesque narrow street and plentiful Medieval remains, Carlingford can be quite an assault on the senses. But I was in a slight daze and struggled to engage with it on any level, bar the rumbling in my stomach a sign I should eat! The late autumnal dusk had settled over the place, made slightly darker by the low cloud - although this ensured temperatures were still clement.

The bikes at Carlingford (and King John's Castle in the background)

The name Carlingford is probably derived from two linguistic origins: the Norse Kerlingfjǫrðr, and the Irish Cairlinn. Carlingford was occupied in the 12th century by Hugh de Lacy after he commenced the building of the [King John's] castle on a strategic outcrop of rock, the settlement sprang up close to this castle and flourished. Carlingford's strategic position on the east coast of Ireland made it an important trading port. This trade led to its relative prosperity during the 14th, 15th and early 16th centuries; Carlingford received five charters in total (the first in 1326 by Edward II).  The increased trade encouraged a mercantile class to build in the area, the results of which can be seen today in the remains of The Mint and Taffe's Castle among others. I can remember be lectured on the importance of this class when visiting the town as part of my 'Medieval Buildings' fieldtrip for my archaeology undergraduate. 

After filling ourselves with food in Ruby Ellen's Tea Room, we commenced the journey northwards towards Newry and taking the Mourne Scenic Coastal Route to Belfast. The traffic became thicker and I grew more frustrated as a result, any Zen-like state of mind riding the bike gives me well and truly gone! With the clouds getting darker and the light fading fast the desire to get home increased in intensity. We live in a part of the world where we can, at time, be held hostage by the weather and seasons. I doubt there will be another weekend away on the bikes until Spring has sprung; maybe something connected to either Imbolc or Beltane?