Enclosure, Ballybrack, Co. Dublin
Co. Dublin |
Enclosures
Some archaeological sites announce themselves with standing stones or dramatic earthworks.
This one offers nothing of the sort. On the lower southern slopes of Two Rock Mountain in County Dublin, there is a place recorded in the archaeological register where, by all accounts, there is simply nothing left to see. No ridge in the grass, no subtle depression, no trace whatsoever at ground level. What survives is a cartographic ghost, a curving line on a map made nearly two centuries ago that hints at something that once enclosed a patch of hillside above Ballybrack.
The only evidence for this enclosure comes from the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1843, which records a curving boundary to the north-west of a nearby ringfort, listed in the archaeological inventory as DU025-043001. A ringfort, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a roughly circular enclosure, usually defined by an earthen bank and ditch, that served as a farmstead during the early medieval period in Ireland. The relationship between that ringfort and this adjacent curving boundary is not fully understood. Geraldine Stout and Padraig Clancy, who compiled the record uploaded in July 2018, note cautiously that the boundary shown on the 1843 map may have been part of another enclosure, a separate but perhaps related feature in the same landscape. Whether it predates, postdates, or was contemporary with the ringfort is a question the surviving evidence cannot answer.
Two Rock Mountain is accessible from several points on the southern fringes of Dublin, and the broader hillside is popular with walkers following the Dublin Mountains Way. The area around Ballybrack sits at the lower, more sheltered end of the slopes, where the ground levels out slightly before the granite terrain rises more steeply above. If you were to go looking for this enclosure specifically, the honest advice is that you would find nothing. The value here is less in any physical discovery and more in what the absence itself suggests: that the 1843 surveyors were recording a landscape that even then was fading, and that whatever boundary once curved across this hillside had already lost its form long before anyone thought to write it down.