Burt Castle
Standing proud upon a gentle rise along the Derry–Letterkenny road, Burt Castle watches over the rolling fields of Inishowen — a silent sentinel of Donegal’s storied past. Built in the age of Henry VIII, its stones once echoed with the strength of the Ó Dochartaigh clan, guardians of the northern frontier.
Not far from its walls, coins from 1525 and 1547 were unearthed — small glimmers of a world long vanished. In 1608, amid the flames of Cahir O’Doherty’s ill-fated rebellion, Burt Castle fell to English hands after the sacking of Derry, Lifford, and Strabane, marking the end of Gaelic power in the region.
Though time has softened its defences and ivy has claimed its battlements, Burt Castle endures — weathered, noble, and still commanding. Set on private ground, it cannot be entered, yet from the nearby road its silhouette rises against the Donegal sky, a haunting reminder of courage, loss, and the echoes of history.
Burt Castle
Standing proud upon a gentle rise along the Derry–Letterkenny road, Burt Castle watches over the rolling fields of Inishowen — a silent sentinel of Donegal’s storied past. Built in the age of Henry VIII, its stones once echoed with the strength of the Ó Dochartaigh clan, guardians of the northern frontier.
Not far from its walls, coins from 1525 and 1547 were unearthed — small glimmers of a world long vanished. In 1608, amid the flames of Cahir O’Doherty’s ill-fated rebellion, Burt Castle fell to English hands after the sacking of Derry, Lifford, and Strabane, marking the end of Gaelic power in the region.
Though time has softened its defences and ivy has claimed its battlements, Burt Castle endures — weathered, noble, and still commanding. Set on private ground, it cannot be entered, yet from the nearby road its silhouette rises against the Donegal sky, a haunting reminder of courage, loss, and the echoes of history.