There is a quarterly magazine which takes you on a wonderful travel route around Ireland, makes you a bit more of a historian than you were, and keeps you up to date with many new discoveries we are making about our distant often very distant ancestors. It is called Archaeology Ireland, and has not a scrap of grave yard gravity from beginning to end. It is obviously of interest to the professionals, but your ordinary reader gets a real lift from it.
Here's to the archaeologists.
This spring edition (it is quarterly) runs us around a lot of country. Coming up to the bicentenary of 1798, there is coincidentally, an article on Mallusk graveyard in Co Antrim. Is not this where one of the finest of the 98 men, Jimmy Hope is buried? Norman Crothers is writing basically about a rediscovered souterrain which, in combination with a large bullaun stone, seems to give evidence of an Early Christian ecclesiastical site, reused in mediaeval times. And to remind us of present troubles, a Celtic cross which stood over the grave of Francis Joseph Bigger, the well known antiquarian and encourager of talent, and host to many of the young writers and poets in the early part of the century, was vandalised some years ago. It has (or had) an inscription in Irish. His house Ardrigh, just under McArt's fort on the Cave Hill, was a haven of good talk and argument.
On to the Bridge of Finnea, well known to singers of "Come Back Paddy Reilly", Conleth Manning made the discovery that there is more to this bridge than meets the eye. "I was surprised to find that high and dry on each side of the drained and deepened river, now spanned by a single wide nineteenth century arch, were three arches of a much older bridge." Some splendid illustrations of the fine stonework. And, by the way, if you want to get to Ballyjamesduff or Cootehill, turn right after crossing the bridge. Never mind Percy French's line: "Just turn to the left at the Bridge of Finnea, add stop when half way to Cootehill."
Much intelligible, serious archaeological scholarship, but they like to end with a joke or two on what is called Spoil Heap: Henge. Well - a henge is any circular thingy you are sure isn't a ringfort, or maybe it is but they put the ditch in the wrong place. Or it's a stone circular thingy with lots of camper vans, women with long flowery dresses, mangy dogs and a police monitoring presence.