Teepee Valley Campsite, Markethill, County Armagh, Ulster

                 

I think I’m losing my touch as regards tour organisation; today we found ourselves again frustrated with bad planning, closures and inconvenient weather conditions. This was our last full day in Northern Ireland, in fact our last full day in the island of Ireland and should have been more memorable.

After popping into that excellent supermarket in Markethill for a couple of items, we headed south deliberately staying off the roads already travelled, soon arriving at Bessbrook just north of Newry. 

This little village, today with a population of just over two and a half thousand, was founded by a Quaker linen entrepreneur in 1845 the design of which was followed by the Cadbury family ‘s Bourneville estate  in Birmingham. The Richardsons from the Lisburn area acquired the mill and fifty acres of land and began a flax spinning, weaving and bleaching enterprise on the site. In association with this Richardson developed the housing beyond that which already existed, into the Bessbrook that exists today, with its two open plan squares and other terraces with granite rubble or stucco facades. It was his opinion that the lifestyles of people could be influenced by their environment and his scheme included facilities for education, a health service and recreation. Respect for cultural and religious differences was encouraged. Stone working and farming as well as the building and maintenance of the expanding village provided a wider range of employment opportunities than linen manufacturing alone. Richardson believed that alkcohol was the main cause of poverty and crime and so there was to be no place for the sale of alcoholic beverages and therefore no need for either pawn shop or police presence. Bessbrook became known as “the village without the three P’s”

 

The National Trust has owned and managed Derrymore House and the surrounding parkland since 1952, a wonderful area open to all and today that was one of our destinations. 

We had understood this estate was situated off the High Street in Bessbrook, and we spent some time driving and walking around looking for it, finally giving up and decided to head on to the next attraction. We headed south again, now toward Camlough, and lo and behold, we passed the Quaker meeting house and the entrance to the demesne; how lucky was that!

Of course we immediately reverted to Plan A and drove up into the park, full of mature trees turning with the season, a mass of autumnal colour. We parked up behind Derrymore House, understanding that it was not open to the public today but still keen to poke around as much as we could.

After a half hour walk up into the woods and about the meeting house, which is locked up tight because of years of vandalism , and the graveyard very plain by British standards, enjoying the birdlife, the conkers and the wonderful clusters of fungi, and of course the fresh air and opportunity for exercise. On our return we wandered around the yellow thatched house, delighting in its charm and quirky colour. 

We learned that Derrymore House was built in the 18th century for Isaac Corry, who represented Newry in the Irish House of Commons for thirty years from 1776. This was before it came into the ownership of the Richardsons in 1859. It was during the Corry years, more particularly in 1800 that the Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland was drafted in the drawing room (now known at the Treaty Room). Thus the house is of great historical significance.

Back on the road, we pressed on to Camlough then turned south again following a minor road between Camlough Mountain which stands 423 metres ASL and the small mountain range that is dominated by Slieve Gullion which stands 577 metres ASL. Between these lies a sliver of a lake, Camlough Lake, which we hoped to access and wait out the mist that had descended upon all the high land about us. Alas it seems that all the land that surrounds the lake is privately held, so we pressed on now wondering at the wisdom of driving up into Slieve Gullion Forest Park. We followed signs until we reached one that stated the entrance was 165 yards on the right. At first we were unable to see the entry; it seemed to be a thick hedge. Then we realised that it was the foliage of a massive tree that had fallen, and in fact somewhere through the mass, there was the whine of chainsaws. The decision had been made for us; we would not be visiting the mountain top, or walking the trails through the forest. 

We pulled over to discuss our options and decided to head west into County Monaghan in the Republic. We set the Tomtom for Crossmaglen initially, a rural service centre still inside the UK which boasts the largest market square in Ireland and saw serious violence during the Troubles so very near the border. During the Troubles, at least fifty eight police officers and one hundred and twenty four soldiers were killed by the provisional Irish Republican Army in South Armagh, many here in Crossmaglen itself. 

Alas we ended up in a veritable maze of narrow farm lanes; whoever programmed Crossmaglen into the device absolutely screwed up. We reset it for Castleblayney across the border, having to switch maps to do so. The new route took us through Crossmaglen but by now we  had lost any desire to check it beyond a passing glance. 

Very near the border we pulled over beside Lough Muckno and lunched while watching a fisherman catch and return several small fish. He had come with so much gear for his comfort and convenience that it would surely take him half an hour to reload his car.

At Castleblayney, we found a park inside the Hope Castle estate, near the lake shore and walked up into the town, a scruffy affair, yet full of local people going about their business. We were fascinated to see so many of the shop windows full of displays all about Big Tom. Turns out Tom, Tom McBride, a popular Irish country singer, who was born here in 1936, died this last April, and the town has made the most of its connection, with festivals to celebrate his music and already had a statue erected near the rather derelict town hall, which is already attracting Big Tom’s fans.      

Down by the lake, we wandered about to explore the castle and the mass of waterfowl. Lough Muckno which is about 425 hectares is the largest and apparently most scenic of the County’s many lakes. 

The Castle was built by the Blayney family, hence the town’s name, but before them, the MacMahons ruled the roost hereabouts and had done so for a couple of centuries.  Sir Edward Blayney was granted permission by King James in 1612 to build a large castle and establish a midway stop for soldiers and communication between Monaghan and Newry. In 1641 the castle was attacked and captured by Hugh MacMahon, although the Blayneys eventually took it back again. However it was not until 1779 that the estate and newer Napoleonic mansion were developed on the site. Then in 1853, the demesne and castle was sold to Henry Thomas Hope who carried out extensive renovations and renamed the site Hope castle. And it is these Hopes who are connected to the Hope Diamond, which is world famous for those with encyclopaedic interest.

The Hopes continued to live in the castle until the early 1900s then in 1928 it was sold and later occupied by Franciscan Nuns on up until the mid-1970s when it was purchased by the Monaghan County Council who in turn leased it to several business people, the most recent a hotelier. It was during this incarnation, in 2010, that the castle was attacked by an arsonist, the evidence of which we saw today.

We lingered on the shore watching and listening to the very vocal ducks before retiring to the brilliant children’s playground where we briefly played on the flying fox; so much fun! After such excitement it was time to head home so we drove north east back into the UK and through lovely farmland back to our campsite.