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The Ghost of Howth Castle:
from the Dublin Journal

by Sue Owens Wright

Howth Castle

July 7, 1998~The second time this week, my traveling companion and I hop the DART train north to the end of the line, Howth. We arrive at the charming seaside town in time for supper. We walk again along the half-moon shaped pier, barely able to stand upright against the power of a gathering squall visible beyond the Eye of Ireland, an offshore islet purported to be overrun with rats. We pause to chat with some local fishermen, who complain good-naturedly about a rogue seal in the harbor that steals their bait.

Small lighthouse by the bay

We manage to find Howth Castle, which isn’t anywhere near where we thought it to be upon our first visit. This time I ask directions as we get off the train. Feet already worn to the knees from our travels, we’re relieved to discover the castle is only a five-minute walk from the station. Housed in the rail station is The Bloody Stream, a pub so named for the great battle of August 10, 1177, that took place on Evora Bridge over a stream during the second Norman Invasion of Ireland. Ever after, locals called it the Bloody Stream. During construction of the pub, the infamous stream was discovered to run directly underneath. After having fought a constant battle with the stream flooding the bar, the proprietors finally decided to make peace with the stream and named the pub The Bloody Stream. It has been voted this year’s Best Pub in Ireland. After the delicious meal we share there in its rustic but ambient atmosphere, Carol and I concur.

Howth Castle, still owned by the St. Lawrence family and currently being renovated, dates back to the 15th century. It is old and brambly and foreboding, but more or less intact. The afternoon sky is flannel gray as we approach the castle. Ravens scold us from the massive oaks surrounding the stone battlements. Curious, I ask a man who is working on the restoration what he knows of the castle’s history. He proceeds to tell us a tale of a woman pirate named Grace O’Malley, known to the area centuries earlier.

One night, Grace came to the castle doors to ask for food and was rudely turned away. To punish the family for their lack of hospitality, by dark of the moon one night she stole their daughter and carried her off to sea never to be seen or heard from again. Ever since that night, according to our snag-toothed storyteller, the front gate is always left open, and a place is kept set at the dining table for Grace’s return. I doubt his story until he points to a window of the castle. Indeed, I can see a table set with linen, fine crystal and candelabras, already lit as though company is expected at any moment.

Here's Sue Owens Wright

Her namesake buildings in Howth

I have no doubt that Grace’s penitent spirit sojourns each night from Howth Harbor, wandering up the winding path and through that haunted gate. Perhaps she brings with her the child she stole away, for it is a palpable and mournful presence I feel when I touch the dank stones of the gatekeeper’s entrance. Only then do I realize that this isn’t some tale told to entertain a nosy tourist. The hair on my nape salutes even now as I write of it. Surely, the ghost of Grace O’Malley lingers there still at the sad, crumbling gates of Howth Castle.

Want to learn a little more about Ireland? Check out this site: Ireland's Eye