Guardians of stone and sky, the cannons of Derry’s walls stand silent now, yet once their thunder rolled across the Foyle. Forged in iron and fire through the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, these twenty-two sentinels defended the city’s heart during the Siege of 1689, when courage and defiance echoed from gate to gate.
Each cannon bears the weight of its own history — its origin known, its purpose etched into steel — arrayed along the ramparts that have withstood centuries of time and tide.
Among them all, Roaring Meg reigns supreme: the great voice of Bishop’s Gate, whose once-fierce cry still lingers in the Derry air, a whisper of defiance carried on the wind.
Guardians of stone and sky, the cannons of Derry’s walls stand silent now, yet once their thunder rolled across the Foyle. Forged in iron and fire through the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, these twenty-two sentinels defended the city’s heart during the Siege of 1689, when courage and defiance echoed from gate to gate.
Each cannon bears the weight of its own history — its origin known, its purpose etched into steel — arrayed along the ramparts that have withstood centuries of time and tide.
Among them all, Roaring Meg reigns supreme: the great voice of Bishop’s Gate, whose once-fierce cry still lingers in the Derry air, a whisper of defiance carried on the wind.