At the head of Lough Corrib, deep in the water about a gunshot from
the land, stands the ancient castle of _Caisleen-na-Cearca_, said to
have been built in one night by a cock and a hen, but in reality it was
founded by the ill-fated Roderick O’Connor, the last king of Ireland.
Strange lights are sometimes seen flitting through it, and on some
particular midnight a crowd of boats gather round it, filled with men
dressed in green with red sashes. And they row about till the cock
crows, when they suddenly vanish and the cries of children are heard
in the air. Then the people know that there has been a death somewhere
in the region, and that the Sidhe have been stealing the young mortal
children, and leaving some ill-favoured brat in the cradle in place of
the true child.
The old castle has many historic memories; the celebrated _Graina
Uaile_, the great chieftainess of the West, made it her abode for
some time, and carried thither the young heir of Howth, whom she had
abducted from Howth Castle, when on one of her piratical expeditions.
Afterwards, during the Wars of Elizabeth, a distinguished lady of
the sept of the O’Flaherties, Bevinda O’Flahertie, shut herself up
there with her only daughter and heiress, and a following of twenty
resolute men. But further to ensure her safety, she wrote to the Queen,
requesting permission to arm the guard; Queen Elizabeth in return
sent an autograph letter granting the request, but addressed to “her
good friend, Captain Bevan O’Flahertie,” evidently thinking that the
custodian of such a castle must certainly be a man.
In the solemn solitude of this picturesque and stately
_Caisleen-na-Cearca_, the great lake fortress of Lough Corrib, with its
rampart of purple mountains and its water pathway fifty miles long, the
young heiress grew up tall and beautiful, the pride of the west. And in
due time she married Blake of Menlo Castle. And from this historic pair
is descended the present baronet and owner of the property, Sir John
Blake of Menlo.
Cromwell ruthlessly dismantled the castle, and it has remained a ruin
ever since; but the massive walls, and the beautiful twelfth century
ornamentation of doors and windows still attest the ancient grandeur
of the edifice, before “the curse of Cromwell” fell upon it, and upon
the country and on the people of Ireland.