This is the Bloody Chapel at the top of Leap Castle’s central tower keep in County Offaly, Ireland. We visited because of the castle’s reputed most-haunted-place-in-Ireland status; supposedly it’s home to not one but many spirits, including children, a murdered monk and a malevolent, inhuman elemental presence that looks like a dead sheep and is redolent of rotting flesh. We were shown around by Martin, resident carpenter and historian, who is restoring the castle (which is partially in ruins) with its owner, Sean Ryan (the Ryans have lived here since the 80’s). Before the tour, Martin shared some tea with us next to a giant fire and told us a bit about the castle’s history. Most of what he related concerned wars, changes of ownership, destruction of the castle’s wooden guts by fire, re-construction, etc., and very little of what he said involved paranormal stuff of any kind. He only mentioned that he himself had never experienced any kind of ghostly occurrence here.
The castle was built around 1250 on a high rocky spot, strategically important for control of the valley below, and as part a chain of 29 or so castles that were each within sight of another, so that emergency communication could be quick. Leap is one of the few left in any kind of un-ruined state. The castle’s site was important to the pre-Christian residents of the area also, as bronze-age artifacts uncovered around the castle attest. It’s said that, when the castle was built, stones from a previous ancient structure, most likely a tomb, were incorporated into the walls (a practice which was common), and that human blood was mixed into the mortar. The spirits of whomever was interred in the pre-existing tomb provide a kind of foundation cursedness. For many years the area was controlled by the O’Carroll clan, a family so brutal and cunning that they’d already been kicked out of the North of Ireland, and, many years later, banished from Ireland completely, settling mostly in Maryland, in the US. Leap Castle was the seat of their power for hundreds of years.
The Bloody Chapel is the most infamous of the castle’s rooms for at least two reasons. One is the fact that, on the right side of the far window, hidden from view in the above picture’s angle, is the opening to an oubliette, which is a kind of death-shaft, sometimes covered with a drop floor, used to conveniently dispose of enemies. If you were tossed in the Bloody Chapel’s oubliette, often referred to as its dungeon, you’d fall ten or more feet onto long spikes, and the remains of your new tomb-mates. If you didn’t die right away, you’d spend your last hours or days in agony, forgotten, hence the name. The oubliette was emptied in the 1800’s, and “three cartloads” of bones were hauled away. Knowing victims would sometimes request to be thrown in head-first, so that the chances of a quick death would be better.
The second reason is a story about fratricide. In 1532 the clan’s leader died, leaving his sons to vie for chief-hood. Although Martin pointed out that one of the brothers, a priest, apparently had a nearby church/monastery to run, which could have meant that he wouldn’t have been much of a threat, the story goes that his brother, who was obviously more ruthless, wanted him out of the way regardless. He invited his brother to say mass in the tower’s chapel, then cut his throat at the altar. The priest’s ghost is supposed to be haunting the chapel now, and his spirit might be what tossed one of the American paranormal investigators on the floor in one episode of “Ghost Hunters.” While Martin was showing us the chapel, I brought this story up, and he pointed out the fact that so many people had been killed here, including an entire dinner party of neighbors that the O’Carrolls owed money to (who were poisoned and then slaughtered, their bodies thrown down the oubliette, their heads kicked out the windows like footballs), that it would be hard to figure out just who was haunting the Bloody Chapel. More likely, I think, if it’s possible at all, it’s the accumulated, concentrated killing, and the viciousness of the deaths, which are causing any haunting. The room’s atmosphere was unsettling to me in what I might best describe as a calm way. It’s creepy, not least because you have to climb the last bit of the spiral stone stairway by candlelight, since there are no electric lights in the top of the castle. Martin gave each of us our own candle holder to carry. Gail and I returned together to take this picture, since I was too freaked out to be up there by myself. I’ve never had a serious, wide-awake ghostly experience, but I think if I could have stayed the night in this room, maybe in a sleeping bag on the floor, or awake all night with a few candles, I’d have as good a chance as I ever will.
