MYTH & LEGEND

The Cooley Mountains

From M1 Junction 18, look north-east along the ridge of the Cooley Mountains to see the great cairn of Carnawaddy, burial place of Fionn Mac Cumhail’s wolf-hound Bran. East along the R179 road are the wooded slopes of Trumpet Hill where Cúchulainn, the Hound of Ulster, had his camp. Each morning he sent his trumpeter to the top to blow out a challenge to the army of Queen Maeve, camped by the sea at Bellurgan in their quest for the Brown Bull of Cooley. Just past the Ballymascanlon Hotel is the ford on the Flurry River where Cúchulainn fought a Connacht champion every day at noon. Heading on towards Carlingford, look out for Maeve’s Gap, the great cleft in the mountain which she had dug just to insult the men of Cooley. Follow the road on around the Peninsula through Omeath to Narrow Water where the Vikings built their ship fort in the 9th century. The Viking leader Hom had a daughter called Isolde who was betrothed to the King of Cornwall. A boat-man called Tristan arrived in Narrow Water to bring her to the king but the trip did not go according to plan. The story was best told by Richard Wagner in his 1865 opera.

Lios an tSeagail

Deep in the Cooley Mountains in a hidden glen at Doolargy is the great Bronze Age fort of Lissachiggle. The name means 'fort of the rye' and rye was probably just one of the cereal crops grown 6000 years ago on the many hundreds of cultivated ridges covered in heather or even in turf. The glen is peaceful now but 2000 years ago it was full of the clamour of battle between the armies of Ulster and Connacht. Legend has it that this is where Queen Maeve's soldiers finally captured the coveted Brown Bull of Cooley.

The Deserted Village

It is known as the Deserted Village, but this ancient settlement high on Carlingford’s South Commons never had more than a handful of houses. In the decade after the Great Hunger there were just three families here: the Donnellys, the Flynns along the lane, and the Maguires in the last, larger house. The wall by the land is a long mound of little stones, picked through the centuries by hands clearing ground for the oat crop that paid the rent.


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