Explore the 10 incredible mysteries that still puzzle scholars of ancient Ireland.

Why These 10 Incredible Mysteries Matter

1 Mysterious Milesians

The mystery of the Milesians will never be solved. According to the medieval Christian text Lebor Gabala Erenn, these Spanish Celts from Galicia conquered Ireland. They derived their name from the legendary Mil Espaine—or “Soldier of Spain.” The ninth‑century Historia Brittonum also mentions the Milesians, claiming that Mil Espaine became the father of the Irish Gaels. Despite no archaeological evidence of Spain invasions in Ireland, the legend persists.

More than 84 percent of Irish men carry the R1b haplogroup marker. Alastair Moffit of the genetic testing firm IrelandsDNA indicates that first farmers carrying the “G” marker arrived in Ireland around 4350 BC. However, around 2,500 years ago, this line was virtually obliterated—reduced to 1 percent of Irish men. R1b is very common in northern Spain and southwestern France. It is likely the Y chromosome was introduced from the south—lending some credence to the Milesian myth.

Dubbed the “Indiana Jones of folk music” by TimeOut.com, Geordie McElroy has hunted spell songs, incantations, and arcane melodies for the Smithsonian, Sony Music Group, and private collectors. A leading authority on occult music, he is also a singer of LA‑based band Blackwater Jukebox.

2 Hellfire Club’s Hidden Tomb

In October 2016, archaeologists discovered an ancient passage tomb beneath Dublin’s Hellfire Club. Jonathan Swift referred to the Hellfire Club as “a brace of monsters, blasphemers, and bacchanalians.” Designed for depravity and debauchery, the shooting lodge was built in 1725 for politician William Connolly. Researchers believe the tomb was destroyed during construction. Connolly died soon after the lodge’s completion and never lived there.

Symbols carved into dark rock revealed the burial’s entrance. The same motif appears on the entrance to Neolithic passage tombs throughout the country. It is typical of Neolithic burials, with a large circular mound with a stone passageway. The team suspects that lower levels remain intact. Researchers have discovered 5,000‑year‑old tools and bits of cremated remains. Radiocarbon dating will determine the tomb’s age. Researchers suspect that the tomb below the Hellfire Club may be part of an extended tomb complex throughout Dublin and Wicklow.

3 Sea God Offering

In February 1896, Thomas Nicholl and James Morrow unearthed the Broighter Hoard while plowing fields in Limavady, Northern Ireland. They took the treasure home and washed it—but had no idea they were holding gold from the first century BC. J.L. Gibson, who had hired Nicholl and Morrow, sold half the haul to a local antiquarian. Morrow’s sister sold another portion to a jeweler.

The most renowned piece in the hoard was a golden boat. The 7.5″ by 3″ boat contains two rows of nine oars, oarlocks, a paddle rudder, and benches. Initially, it did not receive much attention. However, archaeologists now believe it is the key to understanding the hoard. Some believe the gold was an offering to Manannan mac Lir—god of the sea. The presence of non‑Irish loop‑in‑loop torcs—or necklaces—suggests that merchants with foreign interests likely made this offering to the “son of the sea.”

4 Celtic Curse

Hemochromatosis is a genetic disorder resulting in excessive iron retention. “Iron overload” is so common in Ireland it is known as the “Celtic Curse.” Genetic analysis reveals that this mutation was brought to the island by Bronze Age men with DNA originally from the Pontic steppe. Researchers compared the genetics of a 5,200‑year‑old Irish Neolithic farmer and Bronze Age men from 1,200 years later. The brown‑haired, dark‑eyed female had some hunter‑gather ancestry but “possessed a genome of predominately Near Eastern origin.”

The Bronze Age men all had genes for blue eyes (carried the most common Y chromosome in modern Ireland), lactose tolerance, and the mutation of the C282Y gene leading to the “Celtic curse.” Some theorize that the ability to retain extra iron provided a survival advantage with Ireland’s grain‑rich diet—or perhaps aided against parasites. The massive difference in genetics suggests Ireland witnessed a “profound migratory episode.”

5 Ireland’s Oldest Human Burial

Archaeologists studying the oldest human burial in Ireland have made startling discoveries into the lives of the island’s early Mesolithic hunter‑gatherers. Dated between 7530 and 7320 BC, the burial was located on the banks of the River Shannon in County Limerick. The tomb is unique, because its inhabitant had been cremated prior to burial. The site also contains evidence of post, which would have served as a grave marker.

Researchers discovered a highly polished stone axe—or adze—along with the cremated remains. It is believed to be the earliest known adze in Europe. Microscopic analysis revealed that the tool was little used and intentionally blunted, suggesting it was commissioned as a grave offering. The blunting may have been a symbolic gesture representing the individual’s death. The adze shocked researchers, who associated these tools with the arrival of agriculture in Europe 3,000 years after the burial.

6 Pagan Christianity Fusion

In 2014, excavations around County Clare revealed that Ireland’s early Christians hedged their spiritual bets with pagan practices. Archaeologists at Caherconnell unearthed a tomb belonging to a woman and two infants. One of the infants was between one and two years old, and the other died shortly after birth. The woman was about 45 years old and suffered from joint disease.

Radiocarbon dating revealed the burial dates between 535 and 645—well within the “Early Christian” period. However, the tomb contains many pagan elements. They were not buried within consecrated ground. Instead, they were placed in cists beneath a stony mound. Between the 10th and 11th century, a high‑status Caher—or enclosure—was built over the tomb. This practice was common in pre‑Christian Ireland. The enclosure’s drystone wall passed directly over the ancient grave. It may have been a form of ancestor worship, or a way to legitimize rule.

7 Niall’s Offspring

Reigning between 379 and 405, Niall of the Nine Hostages was a mythic Irish high king, who according to legend was one of the most fruitful men in history. Recent DNA analysis has revealed that there may be truth behind these claims. Trinity College’s Professor Dan Bradley discovered that three million men descended from one Irish man—perhaps Niall.

One in 12 Irish men carry R1b1c7 Y‑chromosomes. In northwestern Ireland, which corresponds with the U Neill dynasty’s holdings, the number rises to one in five. It also occurs in great concentration in Scotland and New York. Some speculate that 1 in 50 New Yorkers with European roots are descended from Niall. Irish names are derived from one’s paternal line and thus correlate with Y‑chromosomes. The common surname “O’Neill,” means “descendants of Niall.”

8 Cave Of Excarnation

In 2014, archaeologists discovered evidence of ancient excarnation in Knocknarea Cave. This is the practice in which bodies are allowed to decompose in one area, before being buried elsewhere. Dr. Marion Dowd’s team found 13 small bones and skeletal fragments in an inaccessible reach of the cave. They belonged to one man, who died about 5,500 years ago, and a child who perished about 300 years later. Dowd revealed that the number of small bone fragments suggests this was a place where bodies were allowed to skeletonize before burial elsewhere.

Where the bodies ultimately were interred remains a mystery. However, it is likely they were not taken far. Knocknarea is the highest mountain in County Sligo. It contains Queen Maeve’s cairn, one of Ireland’s most famous Neolithic sites, and five other stone memorials. The mountain is visible from any of the Neolithic sites yet discovered in the county.

9 Irish Tree Alphabet

Ogham (pronounced “owam”) is an ancient Irish tree alphabet. The markings emanate from a central line known as the “stem.” Crosses—or “twigs”—emerge from the reference line to differentiate letters. There are 20 letters in ogham, most of which are named after trees. To date, 400 ogham inscriptions have been found—360 of them are in Ireland. The oldest dates to the fourth century. However, linguists believe it was used on perishable items like wood as early as the first century.

Most ogham inscriptions are names and places and likely served as property boundaries. Why ogham emerged remains a mystery. Latin and Greek script were both in common usage on the island at the time. Some theorize it was invented to prevent the British from deciphering the Irish messages. Others insist early Christian missionaries developed ogham due to Latin’s inefficiency in capturing the Celtic tongue.

10 Indian Musical Connection

In 2016, a student of Iron Age Irish music was shocked to discover the tradition alive in southern India. Long thought to be extinct, this ancient Irish music and its modern Indian analog revealed a 2,000‑year link between the cultures.

The breakthrough came when Australia National University’s Billy O’Foghlu discovered that modern Indian horns in Kerala were nearly identical to prehistoric European versions. O’Foghlu reveals: “The musical traditions of south India, with horns such as Kompu, are a great insight into music cultures in Europe’s prehistory.”

Horns similar to Kompu have been discovered in Europe for decades. Oftentimes, they were sacrificed. Initially, musicologists thought their discordant nature reflected poor craftsmanship. However, O’Foghlu points out that this dissonance is considered “deliberate and beautiful” in Indian music. Traditionally, Indian horns are used as a rhythm instrument—rather than playing melodies. Experts have long suspected interconnectivity between European and Indian musical cultures.

Ireland boasts a rich tapestry of myth, folklore, and superstition, weaving together druidic rites, Christian legends, famine memories, and centuries of conquest. It’s a place where the veil between the living and the departed feels especially thin, and countless locales claim to be visited by spirits. In this roundup of the top 10 haunted destinations, we’ll travel from rugged coastal forts to quiet university halls, uncovering the stories that keep these places forever haunted.

Why These Spots Earn the Top 10 Haunted Reputation

10 Dunluce Castle

Dunluce Castle perches dramatically on a sheer cliff edge in County Antrim, Northern Ireland. Though today the structure is a striking ruin, its origins stretch back to the 14th century, and the fortress has weathered sieges and family feuds for generations, laying the groundwork for its first spectral resident.

Visitors frequently report spotting a figure dressed in medieval garb, believed to be the restless spirit of Richard Óg—often called Young Richard—who rose to power at the tender age of twelve. Historical accounts describe him as a formidable leader who later oppressed locals, and folklore holds that his malevolent deeds tethered his soul to the castle’s stone walls.

A second apparition is said to be a woman named Maeve, whose tragic love story ended in disaster. According to legend, her father forbade her marriage, and when she fled with her sweetheart, a storm capsized their boat while her horrified father watched. Today, guests claim to hear the soft swish of a broom and a faint, mournful song emanating from her bedroom, alongside the ghostly silhouette of a lady gazing out over the cliffs.

The most infamous tale involves a catastrophic kitchen collapse. The castle’s precarious position over the sea has caused sections to crumble over time, most dramatically in 1639 when the kitchen fell into the waves, claiming eight lives and leaving a lone boy trembling in a corner. On stormy evenings, locals swear they can still hear the anguished screams of those lost, echoing from the cliffside.

9 Marsh’s Library

While many specters are born of violent ends or betrayal, some are simply unable to move on due to lingering disappointment. Such is the case of Archbishop Narcissus Marsh, whose lingering presence haunts Dublin’s historic Marsh’s Library.

Founded in 1701, Marsh’s Library filled a cultural void by offering the first free public library in Dublin, serving scholars for over a century and persisting to this day. Its mission to democratize knowledge made it a beacon of enlightenment in a time of scarcity.

Despite his scholarly contributions, Archbishop Marsh is said to roam the stacks, unable to find peace. A diary entry dated September 10, 1965, recounts his heartbreak over his niece Grace, who fled in the night to wed a disreputable sailor, shattering his moral expectations. Legend claims that after his death, Marsh discovered a hidden note Grace had slipped into a tome, prompting his restless search for that elusive piece of closure.

8 Renvyle House

Renvyle House, a striking country estate on Ireland’s western shore, was razed by the IRA before being rebuilt as a hotel in the 1930s. Its inaugural guest was none other than the famed poet W.B. Yeats, a man with a lifelong fascination for the supernatural. Yeats frequently visited the house for séances, often accompanied by his wife Georgina, whom he regarded as his personal medium.

During one such gathering, Georgina allegedly glimpsed a pale, red‑haired boy no older than twelve reflected in a mirror. The apparition, described as embodying “tragedy beyond the endurance of a child,” is thought to be Harold Blake, a youngster from the original inhabitants who hanged himself. Supposedly, Blake warned Yeats that he despised intruders and would haunt anyone who entered his domain, prompting Yeats to perform an exorcism and command the boy to leave.

Whether Yeats succeeded in banishing Blake remains uncertain. Recent photographs taken at Yeats’s nearby residence, Thoor Ballylee, suggest the spirit may have migrated there. Today, locals claim that the ghost of Yeats himself haunts Renvyle, with sightings of a tall figure in Room 27 eclipsing the earlier child‑ghost narrative.

7 Huntington Castle

Strategically positioned along a main thoroughfare from Dublin, Huntington Castle has played a pivotal role in Irish history for nearly a millennium. Originally an abbey, the site evolved into a fortified stronghold, changing hands numerous times and expanding into the sprawling relic seen today.

The castle is reputed to host a menagerie of restless spirits: a monk from its monastic era, the echoing march of Cromwellian soldiers who seized the fortress in 1650, Bishop Leslie who allegedly haunts the four‑poster bed he once occupied, and Ailish O’Flaherty, granddaughter of the notorious pirate queen Grace O’Malley, often seen combing her hair alongside a spectral white cat.

Perhaps the most unusual feature is the basement’s conversion in 1976 into a temple dedicated to the Egyptian goddess Isis. Though the space contains no visible mummies or scarabs, its very existence raises eyebrows, as owners appear to have dabbled in ancient Egyptian rites without any documented rituals.

6 Hellfire Club

Hellfire Clubs, by their very name, conjure images of debauchery and danger. In 18th‑century Dublin, the Hellfire Club earned a reputation as the darkest of such establishments, where the wealthy indulged in gambling, heavy drinking, and, allegedly, occult practices.

Construction began in 1725, but builders ignored a crucial rule: never disturb ancient tombs. They dismantled centuries‑old passageways to source stone, inciting the devil himself to blow away the original wooden roof, which was subsequently replaced with stone. The club’s grand master mason oversaw its completion, and the venue quickly became synonymous with devil worship.

Stories abound: a man dropping a card during a game discovered his opponent possessed hooves, a curious onlooker vanished after peering through a window, and a black cat—described as a human‑faced demon with horns—roams the ruins, allegedly battling a priest. The site continues to attract witches and Satanists, cementing its status as Ireland’s most infamous haunted location.

5 Dundermot Mound

Dundermot Mound is a modest hill tucked away on a road in County Antrim. Though unassuming, locals whisper that it serves as one of Ireland’s two gateways to the Underworld, the other being a cave associated with St. Patrick.

Legend claims the mound was once a venue for ancient sacrificial rites, explaining the eerie lights that flicker there on moonless nights. In 1798, a storm‑racked coach driver named Thomas McHarg, later dubbed “Black Tom,” sought a shortcut after discovering the nearby bridge collapsed. He diverted to the mound, where the earth opened and swallowed his carriage whole.

Even today, the luminous phenomena lure travelers, but those who linger risk meeting the same fate as Black Tom. Some say his phantom carriage still roams, endlessly asking, “Is the bridge at Glarryford still up?” Anyone who answers is said to be cursed to die within a year.

4 Rhetoric House

Within the expansive grounds of Maynooth University in County Kildare stands Rhetoric House, once a dormitory for the world’s largest seminary. Its most infamous room, Room 2—dubbed the Ghost Room—has been the scene of multiple tragic suicides.

The first recorded death occurred in 1841 when a student was found with a razor in hand, a deep slash across his throat, and a pool of blood beneath him. A second suicide mirrored the first in 1860. Rumors swirled that the victims had glimpsed a demonic reflection in a mirror, prompting a morbid tradition of storing razors in ice‑cold water to deter further tragedy. Despite these precautions, a third student took his life by leaping from a top‑floor window.

Today, mirrors are prohibited in the room, which has been consecrated as a shrine to St. Joseph, patron of peaceful death. Supposed bloodstains and scorch marks still mar the floorboards. A less grim tale involves the Aula Ghost—a 1940s projectionist who fell to his death in the Aula Maxima theater; legend says he flips his chair backward if he disapproves of a performance.

3 Hungry Hall

Hungry Hall, a solitary plot of land just outside Dublin in County Kildare, shelters the ruins of a cottage that has lain empty for over a century. The site is infamous for being the home of a witch whose malevolent deeds have echoed through the ages.

Early 19th‑century court records reveal a spate of disappearances involving local boys. One night, a traveler accustomed to stopping at the cottage for a light entered while the resident was absent. As he leaned over the fire, he noticed a small foot protruding from the boiling cauldron, prompting a hasty retreat.

The villagers soon apprehended the woman, tried her for witchcraft, and, unable to bury her on consecrated ground, sentenced her to a fiery execution. She was hanged over a barrel of flaming tar, her body falling into the blaze and being consumed. Today, the ruin is said to be guarded by a massive black dog, believed to be the witch reborn in canine form.

2 Clongowes

Clongowes remains Ireland’s oldest Catholic boarding school, its foundations tracing back to the 13th century. Over the centuries it has witnessed the printing press’s invention, the Renaissance, and the discovery of the New World, all while standing guard over its sprawling campus.

Among its most puzzling hauntings is a ghostly dog with luminous eyes that roams the grounds. No one can pinpoint its origins, though some suggest it may be linked to a murderer who was hanged on the premises. Others argue the canine is the very spirit of the condemned, taking on a new form.

The most documented apparition is a soldier clad in white, blood streaming from his side. First sighted in 1757, the specter appeared to servants as he glided down a hallway, clutching his bleeding ribs before erupting into flames and vanishing. Servants later identified him as Brian Wogan‑Browne, a soldier fighting at the Battle of Prague, who died shortly after this eerie encounter.

1 Flax House

Flax House, erected in Belfast in 1912, began life as a bustling linen mill. Over its 54‑year operation, it survived two world wars and the turbulent split of the island, providing grueling labor conditions for women until its closure in 1966.

In the early 1990s, the building was repurposed as a printing house, but staff quickly reported unsettling phenomena: unexplained noises, doors slamming shut on their own, and sudden temperature drops. These eerie experiences soon escalated to shrieking women, moving objects, and apparitions of female figures, convincing employees that the mill was genuinely haunted.

To prove the hauntings, a live webcam was installed in 1998, turning the site into an internet sensation. The prevailing theory points to Helena Blunden, a 16‑year‑old mill worker with aspirations of a singing career. She tragically fell to her death while cleaning on April 14 1912—the very night the Titanic sank. In 1999, a minor fire revealed a wax cylinder of Helena’s hidden recordings, allowing listeners to hear her haunting melody to this day.

Simon, the building’s caretaker, remains devoted to preserving this eerie legacy, and you can follow his musings on Twitter @simongireland.

When it comes to hidden ways beneath the Emerald Isle, the top 10 secret tunnels and passageways reveal a wild mix of crime, royalty, and rebellion that will make you wonder what else lies below the streets.

10 When You Gotta Go

Back in 1985 a bold crew of thieves decided the fastest way to loot Dublin’s Allied Irish Bank on Dame Street was to tunnel straight through the earth. Their plan went sideways when they emerged not into the vault but into a ladies’ restroom, triggering an alarm that blew their cover.

The operation kicked off just outside Dublin Castle, a stone’s throw from the city’s main police communications hub. They began digging on the Thursday before Easter and, after a frantic sprint of underground work, surfaced on Easter Monday.

The gang managed to carve out a 23‑metre (about 75‑foot) shaft that punched straight through to the bank’s outer wall. Unfortunately, the accidental pit‑stop in the restroom set off a warning system that alerted the police during the long holiday weekend.

Faced with a swift police response, the robbers fled empty‑handed. Even if they had succeeded, the vault reportedly held only about $147,000, and bank officials doubted the thieves could breach the reinforced strong‑room where the cash was stored.

Top 10 Secret Tunnel Tales

9 Staircase Tunnel Discovered In Cork After 230 Years

Spike Island, once a grim prison and defensive outpost in Cork Harbour, now draws tourists with its layered history. From a seventh‑century monastic settlement to a bustling 1600s smuggling hub, the island has seen many lives.

The first artillery fort sprang up in 1779, a direct response to the American Revolutionary War, and the island later served as a British supply base for forces bound for North America and the West Indies. By 1790, the Irish Board of Ordnance erected a permanent fortification.

In August 2020, a wall that had sealed off a hidden corridor for generations was finally removed, unveiling a tunnel that snakes beneath the fort’s walls – a classic “sally port” used for quick exits under fire.

A sally port is essentially a small, fortified doorway that allows troops to dash out while staying protected from enemy fire. It’s a tactical shortcut, often guarded by sturdy doors or walls.

When staff pried open the entrance, they discovered a spiralling staircase that seemed to float out of a Harry Potter illustration, adding a magical twist to the gritty military past.

The newly uncovered passage now leads from the inner fort straight out to the surrounding moat. A second fort erected in the early 1800s likely rendered the tunnel redundant, which explains why it was sealed and forgotten for over two centuries.

8 Frescati Stream

Buried beneath the former grounds of Frescati House, a 1739 estate once home to the Trinity College provost’s family, lay a clandestine tunnel. Emily FitzGerald, Duchess of Leinster, later commissioned the passage to channel seawater straight to the manor, though the route is now sealed and its exact coordinates remain a mystery.

When the house was demolished in the twentieth century, the land transformed into a bustling shopping centre. Yet the Frescati Stream – also known as the Priory Stream – still threads its way beneath the car park, weaving past apartments, slipping under the main road, and finally surfacing in Blackrock Park.

Historically, locals may have used this hidden watercourse to slip away from Crown Militia raids originating at Dublin Castle, offering a discreet escape route for those under siege.

7 The Goggins Hill Tunnel

Since its closure in 1961, the Goggins Hill Tunnel – sometimes spelled Gogginshill – has held the title of Ireland’s longest forsaken passage, stretching an impressive 828 metres (about 2,717 feet). Originally cut for railway traffic, the tunnel was hewn by a crew of 300 men beneath the village of Ballinhassig between 1850 and 1851.

Today the tunnel is choked with overgrowth, giving it an eerie, underworld vibe. It boasts three ventilation shafts, and while some sections remain raw rock, others have been reinforced with brick linings to stave off collapse.

Prospective explorers should note that the tunnel sits on private property. Permission from the landowner is mandatory; trespassers are not welcome, though those who obtain consent can venture inside under guided conditions.

6 The Ballymore Tunnel, County Kildare, And Casino Marino, Dublin

In 1852, Lady Isabella Tasca Stewart‑Bam of the Ards estate commissioned the Ballymore tunnel so she could slip to church without the prying eyes of nearby peasants, creating a discreet subterranean walkway for the aristocracy.

Across Dublin, the Casino Marino complex housed its own secret network. Built in the eighteenth century as a pleasure house for James Caulfeild, 1st Earl of Charlemont, the Casino featured eight concealed passages that linked the main house to its gardens, allowing servants to move unseen and preserve the estate’s immaculate vistas.

Legend has it that the Earl imagined extending these tunnels all the way to the sea, but his untimely death and depleted coffers halted the grand scheme, leaving the purpose of many shafts shrouded in mystery.

Fast forward to 2016, when hidden corridors beneath the Casino Marino grounds were finally opened to the public. These passageways later served as testing chambers for Michael Collins and fellow Irish revolutionaries, who used them to fire sub‑machine guns during the War of Independence.

5 1,000‑Year‑Old Souterrain Discovered In County Cork

In 2015, road‑widening crews in the Caha Mountains of County Cork stumbled upon a remarkable find: a souterrain hewn through solid rock, dating back roughly a millennium. The term “souterrain” derives from the French “sous‑terrain,” meaning “underground passage.”

Archaeologists believe the concept of souterrains travelled to Ireland from Gaul during the late Iron Age. These hidden chambers are typically linked to settlements and are frequently discovered near ancient ringforts.

The Bonane workers uncovered the tunnel while expanding a tourist route, shedding new light on an area previously overlooked by archaeologists despite known Neolithic activity in the surrounding mountains.

4 Sinkhole In Dublin Reveals Brothel Tunnel For Politicians

In 2015 a sudden sinkhole yawned open on Dame Street, a major Dublin thoroughfare that leads toward Trinity College and Christ Church Cathedral. The 1.8‑metre‑deep (about six‑foot) void collapsed into an ancient cellar hidden beneath the road.

Historian Gerry Cooley suggests that, in the nineteenth century, Irish politicians used a concealed tunnel to slip into nearby brothels. The uncovered cellar likely formed part of that clandestine route, remaining in use until the former Irish Parliament House was repurposed as the Bank of Ireland after the 1800 Act of Union.

3 Underground Jail Cells

During renovations at a secondary school in Trim, County Meath, workers ripped down a wall to discover a series of intact jail cells hidden in underground tunnels beneath the building.

The school sits near the site of the former Trim Gaol, demolished in the 1950s. Originally, the industrial school aimed to keep pauper children out of workhouses by teaching them trades. The location is also linked to eerie events: a teacher was murdered in the schoolyard in 1912, and forty years later, two men died when a wall collapsed while they were placing explosives to demolish the old jail.

2 River Poddle

The River Poddle snakes beneath Dublin Castle, winding its way through the city centre before emptying into the River Liffey at Wellington Quay. Manhole covers offer access to its hidden channels, inviting the daring to drop in and explore.

In 2012, two men in waterproof gear and gloves were captured on CCTV near Dublin Castle, apparently slipping into a manhole to investigate the Poddle’s depths. The Garda sub‑aqua unit launched a search, but the pair vanished despite their voices echoing when the cover was lifted. Some speculate they were urban explorers; others suspect they were hunting for treasure, given the tunnel’s proximity to the Assay Office’s gold and silver vaults and a passage beneath the Central Bank on Dame Street.

1 The Streets Under Limerick

When Limerick renamed its streets in the early twentieth century after the Irish Free State’s birth, each new name hid a secret: beneath the surface lay the original English‑named sewers. For example, today’s O’Connell Street sits directly above the old George’s Street, once named for King George III.

It’s rumored that, in the past, one could walk the entire city underground from one side to the other. However, many of those tunnels have been sealed with concrete, leaving only a handful still accessible. Holes in the tunnel ceilings reveal where coal was once delivered into bunkers beneath the streets, and the network, originally linked to sewers, was used to drain rainwater – an admittedly unpleasant trek for anyone brave enough to venture below.

From the late 1960s until the late 1990s, Northern Ireland was a killing field, one whose tentacles often extended to the Republic of Ireland in the south and England to the east.

The root cause was simple: Catholics living in British-controlled, predominantly Protestant North Ireland wanted more of a say over their own destiny. They’d been deemed second-class citizens for years, and as the 1960s unfolded, civil rights movements in the U.S. and elsewhere fueled an Irish uprising.

What resulted was what happens when negotiations fail and extremism reigns. Here are ten tales from The Troubles.

Related: 10 Crazy Attempts To Turn Humans Into Suicide Weapons

10 Troubles Brewing: The Roots of the Conflict

It’s impossible to understand The Troubles without comprehending modern Irish history.

In 1916, with British forces bogged down in World War I, Irish nationalists sensed an opportunity. And while their short-lived rebellion was crushed, both the uprising and its harsh British crackdown made independence more popular.

This culminated in the partitioning of Ireland in 1920, with 26 predominantly Catholic counties divorcing themselves from Great Britain. Six northern counties whose population were majority Protestant—largely due to English and Scottish colonization during the early 17th-century Plantation of Ulster—remained loyal to the crown, giving birth to the UK-aligned state of Northern Ireland. Notably, the original Republic of Ireland government was dominated by Sinn Féin, which half a century later would become most recognized as the political engine behind the Irish Republican Army (IRA).

From its inception, Northern Ireland has contained a sizable Catholic minority that favors a united, fully independent Irish island. And while Christian denomination—namely, “Catholics vs. Protestants”—was the most media-friendly way to encapsulate the violence that began in earnest in the late 1960s, the underlying causes were accusations of England-aligned suppression of those who’d rather be citizens of a free Ireland than subjects of the British crown.

In 1998, the Good Friday Agreement ended The Troubles pretty much where they began: Northern Ireland remains part of Great Britain, utilizing the Pound rather than the Euro and, most recently, complicating the UK’s exit from the European Union.^[1]

9 The First to Die

While 1969 is considered the year The Troubles began in full force, the first known victim was murdered three years earlier.

On May 27, 1966, a 28-year-old Catholic man named John Scullion was shot near the front door of his Belfast home. The attackers were members of the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), a paramilitary group loyal to Great Britain. Scullion died two weeks later.

In the ensuing weeks, the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC)—Northern Ireland’s official, Britain-aligned police force—claimed Scullion was stabbed rather than shot, leading to widespread accusations of a crown coverup. Scullion’s remains were exhumed to confirm his cause of death. Later, it emerged that a neighbor of Scullion’s handed the bullet shell to an RUC officer…who then kept it from being entered as evidence.

The triggerman was reported as UVF gang leader Gusty Spence, who gunned Scullion down as he returned from a local pub. (So much for minding your Ps & Qs.) Soon, two more people were murdered by the UVF: a Catholic man named Peter Ward and a Protestant, Matilda Gould, who was killed by mistake. Spence would serve 18 years in prison for Ward’s death.

Scullion’s headstone reads: “Murdered for his faith.” While no one could have fathomed it at the time, his death was just the first of over 3,500 killings spanning more than three decades of sectarian violence.^[2]

8 Among the First Victims Was a Nine-Year-Old Boy

In August 1969. British troops were deployed to restore calm in Belfast as Catholics protested and ultimately rioted for fairer treatment and expanded economic opportunities. It was among The Troubles’ first major conflicts.

Streets regarded as Catholic were burned by loyalist mobs, and members of the long-dormant Irish Republican Army (IRA) fought back. As violence escalated, Divis Flats resident (and father of six) Neely Rooney left his loft to investigate. “‘I think it’s getting bad outside,’” his wife, Alice, recalls him saying. A nearby pub was on fire, he noted.

In front of Divis Flats, British troops then tried to disperse protesters by firing over their heads with mounted machine guns. Several penetrated dwellings in the Divis Flats. “The bullets ripped through the place,” said Con Neely, one of Alice and Neely’s now-adult sons. “They came through the windows and ripped through the plasterboard, everything.”

“I saw all the flashes of the tracer bullets going past the flats, and as I opened the door, I must have been grazed with one of them,” Alice remembers. Her husband was hit as well. “Alice, I’m shot,” he muttered. Luckily he would survive.

But then, Alice recalls, her nine-year-old son Patrick “slumped down the wall. I said, ‘God, he’s fainted’…but when I lifted him up, the blood was coming from the back of his head.” The boy died shortly after that, and the shooting was never prosecuted.^[3]

7 Safety in Numbers: Belfast’s Self-Segregation

As violence escalated, Catholics and Protestants no longer felt comfortable living shoulder to shoulder. As a result, Catholics in predominantly Protestant neighborhoods moved to Catholic areas and vice versa—a self-segregation that found relative safety in numbers. In short order, entire neighborhoods were discernible primarily by their Christian denomination.

Unfortunately, an unintended consequence was that someone’s sectarian affiliation—previously hidden by the opposing sides’ shared ethnicity—could be easily discerned simply by learning an address. Overnight, the reply to “where you from?” became fighting words.

In late 1969, the British government began erecting a series of walls between Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods—complete with gates that closed each evening. They stayed shut until the next morning; the goal was coexistence via separation. The most prominent of these barricades, now called the Peace Wall, stretches several miles and has been signed by more than four million visitors since The Troubles came to an uneasy end in 1998’s Good Friday Agreement.

Still, just because the violence has subsided doesn’t mean former enemies are becoming fast friends. Many residents still have fresh memories of sectarian bombings and killings. In an area where identity is largely defined by whether one favors Irish nationalism or British loyalty, the willingness to put down arms has outpaced the desire to shake hands.

For example, in 2013, Northern Ireland’s government announced its intentions to remove all sectarian partitions by 2023. As that deadline approaches, over 100 still remain, often dotted with memorials to victims.^[4]

6 Sunday, Bloody Sunday

The incident that inspired U2’s hit song occurred on January 30, 1972, in the western city of Londonderry—which, for obvious reasons, is simply called “Derry” by Irish nationalists. It became a pivotal event in The Troubles, with many marking it as a point of no return.

On that day, the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association had organized a protest march. Despite the protesters being neither armed nor riled up, British soldiers fired upon them with live ammunition. Fourteen people were killed, with 15 others wounded.

The fallout was swift and severe. The next day, a nationalist Northern Ireland MP slapped a loyalist colleague in the face for lying about the extent of the tragedy. The day after that, Dublin’s British embassy was bombed.

But the most consequential result was a spike in violently nationalist sentiment. In the days and weeks following what soon became known as Bloody Sunday, countless vengeful young men joined the IRA, swelling its ranks. The British government’s subsequent exoneration of the soldiers involved only worsened the animus.

The proof is in the body count. In the three years leading up to Bloody Sunday, The Troubles claimed about 200 lives. In 1972, 479 people were killed—the deadliest single year in the three-decade conflict. The annual death toll wouldn’t fall below 200 again until 1977, entrenching the bitterness and emboldening extremists on both sides.^[5]

5 The Deadliest Day, and Other Lowlights

On May 17, 1974, a series of four coordinated bombs detonated in the Republic. Three hundred people were injured, and 33 civilians—plus a full-term unborn child—were killed. It was The Troubles’ deadliest day.

Organized by the Ulster Volunteer Force, the same group involved in the Scullion murder above, three explosions went off during the evening rush hour in Dublin. A fourth occurred about 90 minutes later in the border town of Monaghan.

Two years earlier, the nationalists executed their most orchestrated attack. On July 21, 1972, the Provisional IRA (or PIRA, the militant outgrowth of the original IRA) set off 22 bombs in Belfast over a 75-minute span. Dubbed Bloody Friday, the event killed nine, including two British soldiers. In March 1973, the group attacked England for the first time, setting off four car bombs in London that injured more than 200 people. Miraculously, no one died save for a 60-year-old who suffered a heart attack.

In fact, while many point to the April 10, 1998 Good Friday Agreement as the cessation of widespread violence, the carnage would continue for some time. In August of that year, a dissident republican group calling itself the Real IRA exploded a bomb in Banbridge, Northern Ireland, injuring 33 civilians and two Royal Ulster Constabulary officers. Two weeks later, the same group detonated an explosive in Omagh, Northern Ireland, that killed 29 civilians—including a woman pregnant with twins.^[6]

4 Doctors of Doom: Assassinated in a Hospital

Máire Drumm was Vice President of Sinn Féin—the IRA-affiliated nationalist political party—and a commander in the Irishwoman’s Council. Among other exploits, she broke through lines of British troops during the July 1970 Falls Curfew, a British police operation that began as a search for illegal weapons but devolved into skirmishes with residents of the Catholic nationalist neighborhood. Drumm and several others risked arrest and harm by taking food and supplies past troops into the encircled area, prompting a de-escalation.

Soon, though, Drumm’s peaceful protest days were over. In 1971, a year before assuming Sinn Féin’s vice presidency, she was arrested for “seditious speech” for encouraging a Belfast audience to join the IRA. She was jailed again in 1976 after threatening to destroy Belfast “stone by stone.”

That fall, Drumm entered a Belfast hospital for eye surgery. Rumor had it that the 57-year-old woman was in ill health and would be resigning her Sinn Féin post and moving to Dublin. On October 28, two members of a secretive loyalist paramilitary group called the Red Hand Commando disguised themselves as doctors, snuck into the hospital, and shot Drumm dead in her bed. Many nationalists saw the lack of adequate security as a British conspiracy to rid themselves of a longstanding thorn.^[7]

3 Power Hungry: The Prison Strike That Spurred IRA Recruitment

Whether regarded as a hero or terrorist, Robert “Bobby” Sands was responsible for surging recruitment into the IRA. This is because of how he lived and, especially, how he died.

In 1976, Sands was sentenced to 14 years for bombing a furniture company in retaliation for a British bar bombing. In prison, he was implicated in a fight and sent to the punishment block. There, his cell contained a mattress, chamber pot, water container…and nothing else. Protesting the conditions, Sands refused to wear a prison uniform. Guards responded by keeping him naked for 22 days.

Sands’ obstinance brought notoriety. He had several letters and articles published in the Irish Republican An Phoblacht newspaper and, in 1980, was elected Officer Commanding of the Provisional IRA Prisoners of Maze Prison. Quite the title for a guy in the slammer.

Then Sands started something that showed his utter dedication to Irish nationalism. Under the guise of protesting for better prison conditions, on March 1, 1981, he refused to eat. His cohorts joined the hunger strike at staggered intervals to maximize publicity. A month later, a still-starving Sands was even elected to Parliament.

Sands went 66 days without food, dying of malnourishment on May 5. Nine others starved themselves to death in a prolonged episode credited with changing the course of The Troubles. Sands’s death prompted days of rioting in Northern Island’s nationalist areas, and more than 100,000 people lined his funeral route.^[8]

2 The Hateful ’80s

While violence certainly flowed from both sides, Irish nationalists were the clear aggressors throughout the 1980s. Republican groups initiated the overwhelming majority of killings during the decade, many having the look and feel of vulgar, indiscriminate terrorism.

It’s one thing to blow up military ceremonies in London’s Hyde and Regent’s Park, killing 11 British soldiers (and seven horses), as the PIRA did in July 1982. It’s quite another to stick a bomb in an apartment building’s drain pipe—which the Irish National Liberation Army (INLA) did in August 1982. Despite killing a British soldier, it also killed two children (and Catholic children, no less).

The following year, INLA killed three civilians at a Protestant church service, while the PIRA exploded a bomb outside of London’s famous Harrod’s department store, killing six and injuring 90. In 1984, PIRA bombed a hotel where England’s Conservative Party—including Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher—was congregating. Five died, including an MP.

The nationalist killing spree goes on. On November 8, 1987, 11 civilians and an RUC officer were killed when a bomb exploded during a Remembrance Day ceremony in the ironically named town of Enniskillen, Northern Ireland. The next year, PIRA tried to blow up a High Court Judge in the equally ironically named border town of Killeen, North Ireland. They missed, instead killing a family of three, including a six-year-old boy.^[9]

This is not the way to rally the world to your cause, people.

1 A Troubling Truth: Northern Ireland Today

For Northern Ireland to evolve beyond its ugly past, many older residents may need to take their intractable grievances to the grave. The Troubles may need to age out, leaving Northern Ireland to a generation that grew up in peace, however uneasy.

Even today, many young adults in Northern Ireland remember scarring sectarian violence. “The worst thing I ever saw,” said 20-year-old Luc Baxter, “was an exploding head of someone who’d been hit by a bullet. I was 11 years old then.” This means the incident occurred over a decade after 1998’s Good Friday Agreement.

And while this emerging generation doesn’t share its parents’ animosities, it is still very much affected by them. To this day, fewer than 10% of students in Northern Ireland attend religiously integrated schools. Promisingly, parents and teachers have started the “Are You ‘In’?” campaign to expedite Catholic/Protestant school integration.

Older citizens are typically less forgiving. “There were so many people killed just walking around this area,” recalls Frank Brennan, 70, of Short Strand, a working-class Catholic neighborhood in Belfast that runs along the Peace Wall. Brennan, who served prison time for his involvement with the Irish nationalist movement, will likely never be ready to intermingle. “I live on a peace line, and I feel safer with those walls up,” he claims, echoing the stance of many in his generation.^[10]

The Emerald Isle of Ireland is undoubtedly a beautiful and historic place, filled with amazing cities, gorgeous landscapes, and a thriving culture that stretches back centuries. However, with that storied past come some bloody, spooky, and troubling interludes. So, what are the ten spookiest mysteries in Ireland? Let’s dive in and find out!

10 The Murder of William Desmond Taylor

The name of this Irish director might not be known to you now, but in his day, he was pretty well known. He became more famous still after his violent and mysterious murder. As most successful directors do, William Desmond Taylor moved to Los Angeles to continue his craft. Once there, he began a relationship with the comic actress Mabel Normand and was stalked by an obsessed former child star named Mary Miles Minter.

The women in his life suddenly became murder suspects as soon as he was shot to death in his LA bungalow. It was well known at the time that Normand had a drug problem and could’ve shot Taylor in a fury. Perhaps it was Minter or Minter’s mother, both of whom were near his home at the time. Finally, Taylor’s cook and valet, Henry Peavey, was also a suspect and died in an asylum from syphilis-induced dementia nine years later. All these people were involved to some extent, but the murderer was never found and never brought to justice.^[1]

9 The Vanishing Triangle

When we think of mysterious and spooky triangles, we normally think of the Illuminati or Bermuda—rarely do we think of Ireland. However, in the mid-1990s, around the Leinster area of Ireland, a series of women disappeared without a trace. When mapping this area, a triangle formed, and the media thus dubbed the area “the vanishing circle.”

In total, eight women—all of similar ages—went missing and were never found. One of the most disturbing things is that most of the women were taken in broad daylight! The leading theory was that a serial killer was operating in the area. Although this has never been confirmed, the disappearances did stop in 2001 when a rapist and attempted murderer was caught in the nearby Wicklow Mountains. That being said, the man never admitted to being involved in the other eight disappearances. The case remains unsolved.^[2]

8 Who Is Peter Bergmann?

Fake identities and mysterious drop-off points are both things we associate with spy movies, but not in Sligo in 2009. Coming into Sligo from Belfast, a man who gave the alias Peter Bergmann checked into a hotel and each day would wander the town with a plastic bag full of belongings, leave them in different places, and return to the hotel with an empty bag.

He then asked a taxi driver to take him to a place where he could swim, so they drove up to Rose Point, upon which Bergmann asked the driver to take him back to the hotel. The next day, people began to notice his weird behavior. He was in the cafe by the bus station reading scraps of paper, tearing them up, and disposing of them in different bins. He then got on a bus to Rose Point, and it was there that his body was found the next day. His clothes were strewn about the beach, and all identifying labels and objects were removed. So, who was Peter Bergmann really? We’ll likely never know.^[3]

7 Aer Lingus Flight 712

Few things are more concerning or bizarre than a missing plane or a mystery surrounding a plane crash. After all, how can something so big, with so many trackers, just disappear? Back in 1968, Aer Lingus Flight 712, going from Cork to London, crashed just off the coast. All 61 people onboard died, and the agencies looking into it were none the wiser.

Of course, plenty of things can bring a plane down, but there were conspiracies surrounding this plane’s demise. Rumors included a Welsh training missile misfiring and taking out the plane accidentally or a collision with a training flight by the French/Irish Air Corp. Neither was confirmed, but years later, a crew member of the HMS Penelope discovered that part of the plane wreckage was secretly removed and taken by the UK, further fanning the flames of a cover-up.^[4]

6 What Happened to Mary Boyle?

When a six-year-old goes missing, it always makes the news, and everyone sets out to find the kid in question. Back in 1977, on St Patrick’s Day, a young Mary Boyle was spending time with family at her grandparents’ house.

At one point, her uncle left to visit the neighbor’s house, about a third of a mile away (500 meters). The path was across a marshy area, and at some point, Mary decided to turn back to her grandparents’ house. She’s never been seen since, and this remains Ireland’s longest-running missing person’s case, with celebrities even lending a hand to try and find her.^[5]

5 The Tale of Joseph Michael Maloney

Murder, asylums, poison, and a mysterious escape, this next spooky tale has it all. A man of Irish descent from Rochester, New York, throws a joint fifth birthday party with his estranged wife. Suddenly, the wife dies of poisoning after drinking a spiked drink. The husband, Joseph Michael Maloney, pled insanity and went to an asylum.

Unbeknownst to the judge or prosecutors, Maloney used to work in the asylum and knew how to escape. Years later, in Dublin, the police were called to a burglary. They took the prints of a man called Michael O’Shea, who lived there, to eliminate his prints. When they ran the prints, they found a match to a case in the U.S. This was Maloney, who was now sought after by the FBI and Interpol, but there was no extradition between Ireland and the U.S. at the time. When it did become legal, a technicality meant Maloney/O’Shea wasn’t prosecuted. Even then, O’Shea insisted he wasn’t Maloney.^[6]

4 The Stranger at Loftus Hall

Moving onto the spooky folklore of Ireland, we have the tale of the stranger at Loftus Hall. Located on the Hook Peninsula in County Wexford, a ship sought out shelter from a storm, with the stranger coming up to the house and being greeted by Lord Tottenham.

The daughter of the lord, Anne, became quite taken with the stranger. They sat by the fire and played cards throughout the night. Anne dropped a card, and when she leaned down to pick it up, she saw that the stranger had cloven hooves. Traumatized, young Anne screamed. The devil disappeared through the ceiling in a plume of hellfire. Anne never recovered, and now Loftus Hall is one of the most haunted places in Ireland.^[7]

3 What Happened to Shergar?

While not exactly spooky, the mystery of Shergar is certainly intriguing. Shergar was an elite but retired racehorse that was worth around £10 million. In 1983, an armed group decided to storm the yard and steal the horse for ransom.

They asked the syndicate that owned Shergar for £2 million for the horse’s unscathed release, but the owners said no. Their logic was that if they paid up, it would open the door for more people seeking to make a quick buck. What happened to Shergar after that? No one knows. The gang didn’t claim to kill the horse, nor was the horse ever released. We still don’t know for sure who the gang even was.^[8]

2 The Monster of Glenade Lake

Many cultures have tales of terrifying beasts that lurk under the watery depths of the country’s lakes, and Ireland is no different. The legend of Dobhar Chu in Glenade Lake has been around for centuries. It’s alleged that Dobhar Chu is a giant water hound that looks like an otter and a dog but is the size of a crocodile. Feared by the locals, Dobhar Chu is as adept on land as underwater and has a mighty shriek.

In 1722, a woman named Grainne Ni Conalai was minding her business washing clothes in the lake when Dobhar Chu came for her. She screamed, and her husband came running, but he was too late. After stabbing the beast, its scream awoke a second Dobhar Chu, leading to an intense fight, which the husband won. That being said, sightings have been reported as recently as 2003…^[9]

1 The Vanishing Island at Ballycotton

People might go missing, but it’s unusual for an entire island to appear and disappear the next day. That’s the case with the vanishing island at Ballycotton. In 1878, the locals looked out from the beach and saw an island emerging out of the mist, with distinct features including mountains and valleys.

Excited, the fishermen headed out to explore, but the island disappeared. Was it an illusion? Was it the mystical island of Hy Brasil, as promised by St. Brendan the Navigator? If it is the latter, the human eye can only see the island for one day every seven years before it again disappears from view!^[10]