[Inscribed stone, Coumeenole]
Tall stone with Ogham inscription, described as being on a hill near Dunquin.
The stone is located on the summit of Dunmore Head, west of the promontory fort at Coumeenole North [Com Dhíneol Thuaidh], at a distance of less than 3 kilometres from Dunquin.
Sources:
Archaeological Survey of Ireland, at http://webgis.archaeology.ie/NationalMonuments/FlexViewer/, record KE052-059002-.
Judith Cuppage (ed.), Archaeological Survey of the DIngle Peninsula (Ballyferriter: Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, 1986), record 268.
R.A.S. Macalister, Corpus inscriptionum insularum celticarum, Vol. 1 (Dublin: Stationery Office, 1945), record 178.
Ogham in 3D, Dublin Institute of Advanced Studies, https://ogham.celt.dias.ie.
Image Details
| Genre | Scientific or Technical illustration |
|---|---|
| Technique | Woodcuts |
| Subject(s) | Antiquities and archaeological sites |
| Geographical Location |
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| Keywords(s) | Antiquities, Inscriptions, Sculpture, Stelae |
| Colour | Monochrome |
| Published / created | 1839 |
Bibliographical Details
| Travel Account | Rambles in the South of Ireland |
|---|---|
| Contributor(s) |
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| Print or manuscript | |
| Location of image in copy | Vol. 1, p. 184 |
| Source copy | James Hardiman Library, National University of Ireland Galway Special Collections: 914.190481 CHA |
| Permalink | https://ttce.universityofgalway.ie/irelandillustrated/?id=ii_image_1368917297&object_type=image&ttce_function=5 |
| Rights | James Hardiman Library |
Related text from travel account
| Dunquin is a sad-looking little village, on the [p. 181] most western point of Europe, built on the edge of a precipitous cliff of dark sandstone, in which, as if worn away by the furious billows of the Atlantic, there are now several little coves, that serve the poor inhabitants to shelter their tiny fleet of fishing boats. It is indeed a wild place—a land of rocks and rugged hills. Though once blessed with happy seasons of successful trade, Dunquin is now forlorn and desolate, fast sinking into ruin, and possessing nothing of value but a few rich tracts of pasturage, and the rude hardiness of its industrious peasantry. As we drove by the scattered cottages at the extremity of the village, many poor ragged figures regarded us with a gaze of wonder—unaccustomed to the visits of strangers. The most respectable-looking person that we saw was a man in the uniform of the coast guard. Of him we enquired if there was such a thing as an inn, or any other place, where we could breakfast; for the fresh breeze from the Atlantic had reminded us, some time before we reached Dunquin, how acceptable that meal would be. Finding that we were strangers, he welcomed [p. 182] us to his humble dwelling, and begged that we would accept of his best attempt at hospiitality. In front of his cottage there was a little garden, laid out in such a manner as to induce the supposition that English, not Irish hands, had made and furnished it. His wife received us at the low entrance of his kitchen, and promised to do her best to give us a cup of tea with a broiled herring. In the mean time, guided by our host, the water-guard man, we walked to a hill in the neighbourhood, on the top of which stands a stone scored with mysterious Ogham characters, of which so many specimens exist in this wild district. Half-way up the hill we paused, to sketch the rugged islands and bleak cliffs of the bay, perching ourselves at the edge of a dizzy precipice. I commenced sketching and admiring the magnificent view of rocks and waves that was spread from right to left before me; but it was impossible to represent that wild scene, and it would also be vain to attempt a description of the broad Atlantic, as then I saw it, rolling along before the south-west breeze, and breaking against the lofty promontories of the Blasquet [p. 183] Islands, and the bleak sombre-coloured rocks along the rugged shore. We afterwards mounted to the summit of Dunquin, and found the view from the point very interesting. The Blasquets lay immediately before us and the neighbouring headlands and bold cliffs were seen to great advantage. We saw on the opposite side of Dingle Bay, Dowlas Head, the bold termination of the main land,—Brea Head, and the extremity of Valencia. The Skelligs appeared beyond, in the far distance; those curious rocks, somewhat resembling two Gothic cathedrals, which we first saw from the mountain pass near Berehaven, leading to the copper mines of Allihies. But the stone inscribed with Ogham characters now rivetted all our attention. It is about six feet high, and two feet wide, and the characters appeared more perfect than any we have yet seen. Mr. Casey caused it to be placed in an upright position, and there it stands, enjoying the finest view imaginable, and receiving on its unintelligible face the bleak winds of this wild region. We took an accurate drawing of the inscription. [p. 184] [Image: Inscribed stone, Dunquin] As soon as the above drawing was finished, we descended to the coast-guard's cottage; here we were much pleased to find that Mrs. Stoat, his worthy wife, had breakfast ready. [Vol. 1, p. 180-184] [Passage continues with account of the Stoat family’s hospitality, the interior of their house, an anecdote re rescue at sea, and walk to Ferriter’s Cove.] |