Belfast Castle

Stand still for a moment and listen. Wind moves through the trees above you, and somewhere below, the city hums. The air up here often carries a damp, green smell of moss and wet bark from the slopes of Cave Hill. Ahead of you rises a building of pale sandstone, all turrets and steep roofs. It looks like it belongs in the Scottish Highlands. Yet you are standing on the northern edge of Belfast, high above the lough.

Welcome to Belfast Castle. Here is the first surprise. The building in front of you is not the original Belfast Castle. That older castle stood far below, in the heart of the town. The Normans built a fortress there in the late twelfth century, near the river. Today that site has disappeared under shops and traffic. Only a street name, Castle Place, still carries its memory in the city centre.

The old town castle had a hard life. It changed hands, fell into ruin, and was rebuilt more than once. In the early seventeenth century, Sir Arthur Chichester rebuilt it as a grand residence. Chichester was the English soldier and administrator who did much to shape early Belfast. His family later became the Donegalls, the most powerful landowners in the town. Then, in 1708, a fire destroyed that house. For well over a century, Belfast had a castle only in name.

The story moves up the hill in the nineteenth century. The third Marquess of Donegall, a descendant of Chichester, chose this wooded slope for a new family home. The house was designed by the architectural firm of Lanyon, Lynn and Lanyon. Charles Lanyon was one of the most important architects in Victorian Belfast, and his son John worked with him. The building was completed in 1870. It has stood here ever since, watching the city grow below.

Look closely at the style. Architects call it Scottish Baronial. That is a Victorian revival of the fortified tower houses of old Scotland. You can see its features clearly. There are round corner turrets with pointed caps. There are stepped gables, small windows set deep into thick walls, and a tall square tower. Many visitors notice a likeness to Balmoral, the royal castle in Scotland. That resemblance is real, because both buildings come from the same fashion of the time.

Now the second surprise. The Marquess began this grand project, but the money ran out. The family fortune had suffered from heavy debts. The house was finished with the help of his son-in-law, who later became the eighth Earl of Shaftesbury. So the castle passed into the Shaftesbury family. One of its most graceful features came later. Walk around to the garden side and find the curving stone staircase. It sweeps down from the house to the lawns in an elegant serpentine line.

That staircase is worth a slow look. It softens the hard, defensive shape of the building. Where the front of the castle feels stern, this side feels open and relaxed. Stand at the bottom and look up. The steps draw your eye toward the windows and the tower above. It is a good example of how a Victorian house could borrow the look of a fortress while living like a country villa.

In 1934, the Shaftesbury family gave the castle and its estate to the City of Belfast. From that moment, the house belonged to the public. Over the following decades it served many purposes, and it slowly showed its age. A long restoration took place in the 1970s and 1980s. The castle reopened to the public in 1988. Today it hosts weddings, dinners and events, and it houses a visitor centre for Cave Hill.

Now, keep your eyes open in the gardens, because there is a cat to find. Local tradition says that the castle's residents will have good fortune as long as a white cat lives here. Nobody can say exactly where the tale began, and it is best treated as folklore. But the city took it to heart. The gardens contain images of cats hidden in mosaics, sculpture and stonework. Many families make a game of counting them.

Turn around now and look outward. On a clear day, the view stretches across Belfast Lough, the long sea inlet that made this city a port. You can see the docks and the cranes of the shipyard district. That is where many great ships were built, including the Titanic. Beyond the water, the hills of County Down roll away to the east. On a grey day, the lough turns silver and the city fades into soft layers of mist.

Above the castle, the cliffs of Cave Hill rise toward the sky. From parts of the city, the summit looks like a sleeping giant lying on its back. Locals call the rocky outcrop at the top Napoleon's Nose, because people say it looks like the French emperor's profile. Some also claim the hill inspired Jonathan Swift's giant in Gulliver's Travels. Swift did live nearby for a time, but that link remains a popular story rather than proven fact.

The hill carries real history too. On its summit is an ancient earthwork known as McArt's Fort. In 1795, a group of the United Irishmen climbed up there. This was a radical movement that wanted reform and Irish independence. Among them was Theobald Wolfe Tone. According to well-known accounts, they swore an oath on the summit to work for Ireland's freedom. Paths from the castle grounds lead up through the woods toward those heights, if your legs are ready.

Before you leave, pause once more by the castle walls. Touch the sandstone and feel its cool, gritty surface. Listen for the birds in the trees, and the low sound of the city far below. This hill has seen a Norman town grow into a shipbuilding city. It has seen a family fortune rise and fall, and a private house become a public one. As you walk away, look back over your shoulder. Count the turrets one more time... and keep watching the garden for a white cat.