Attractions · Kildare Town
The Tower on the Hill of Allen
The Tower on the Hill of Allen: Where Myth Meets Stone Drive across the flat plains of Kildare and you can’t miss it — the Hill of Allen rising out of the landscape, crowned with its 19th-century tower. The hill has always carried weight in Irish legend as the stronghold of Fionn mac Cumhaill and […]
The Tower on the Hill of Allen: Where Myth Meets Stone Drive across the flat plains of Kildare and you can't miss it — the Hill of Allen rising out of the landscape, crowned with its 19th-century tower.
The hill has always carried weight in Irish legend as the stronghold of Fionn mac Cumhaill and the Fianna. Climb it today and you'll find that mix of myth and history still alive in the stones. The tower itself was the project of Sir Gerald George Aylmer of Donadea Castle. Aylmer loved to build, and in 1859 he began work on what would become a 60-foot beacon on the summit. It took four summers to complete, the harsh winters forcing masons to down tools. Two brothers, Lawrence and William Gorry, did the heavy lifting — their names are still carved at the top. There's a wonderful story about the foundations. As workers dug into the hill, they came across a mass of human bones, including a giant skull and several massive bones each three feet long. Locals immediately linked them to Fionn himself. Sir Gerald had the remains carefully reburied beneath the tower, giving the place an extra layer of folklore. The climb up the 83 stone steps is part of the experience. Each step is etched with the name of one of Sir Gerald's tenants, who hauled stone up from Robertstown and Edenderry. Those names — Dowling, Healy, Moran, Price — are still common in the area today. As you climb, you're literally stepping across the history of the community that built it. At the top you'll find sweeping views across the Curragh, the Wicklow Mountains to the east, and the Bog of Allen stretching west. On a clear day it feels like half of Ireland is laid out before you. The stone table and railings are still there, and you can imagine the young Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) standing here in 1861, pipe in hand, singing with his officers. Mason William Gorry remembered the visit well — not least because the prince left behind a silver matchbox that Gorry quietly pocketed. Look closely and you'll see Latin inscriptions on the outer walls — mottos of faith, moral advice, even the cryptic word Gabaon, thought to reference the biblical city of Gibeon, “pertaining to a hill.” Inside, an inscription gives the tower's purpose plainly: “In thankful remembrance of God's mercies, many and great.” The tower has weathered damage over the years — storms, vandals, stolen lead from the dome — but it still stands, a landmark visible for miles. Visitors should expect a short, steep climb to the top of the hill, but the reward is a place where Ireland's myths meet Victorian ambition, and where the views are every bit as memorable as the stories.