Treasures of the Clan: McGennis Artifacts
The physical relics connecting us to 875 years of Irish heritage
There's something uniquely powerful about touching an object that your ancestors touched centuries ago. Not reading about it, not seeing it in photographs, but placing your hand on the same stone that witnessed your family's power, purpose, and perseverance through nearly nine centuries of Irish history.
The McGennis clan—the Lords of Iveagh—left behind more than genealogical records and place names. They left stones. Castles. Sacred relics. Physical artifacts that anchor our heritage in the real world and provide tangible connections to ancestors who lived, ruled, fought, and prayed in County Down, Ulster.
As I research these artifacts from my home in Jefferson City, Missouri, I'm struck by the fact that these objects still exist. The inauguration stone that legitimized our ancestors' authority sits waiting in Rathfriland. The castle walls they defended still stand against the Irish sky. These aren't just historical curiosities—they're family heirlooms, scattered across an ocean but no less meaningful because of the distance.
This post explores the most significant artifacts connected to the Mag Aonghusa/McGennis clan. Some are famous, others obscure. All of them tell parts of our family's story in ways that words alone cannot.
The Rathfriland Inauguration Stone: Seat of the Lords
"The stone chair that witnessed the rise of every Lord of Iveagh for nearly 500 years"
If there's one artifact that defines the physical heritage of the McGennis clan, it's the inauguration stone chair at Rathfriland. This ancient stone seat served as the ceremonial throne where new Lords of Iveagh were formally inaugurated into power.
The Ceremony
In medieval Gaelic Ireland, political power wasn't simply inherited—it had to be ritually conferred. When a new Mag Aonghusa lord came to power (whether through inheritance, election by the clan, or conquest), he would undergo an inauguration ceremony at Rathfriland, the ceremonial capital of Iveagh.
The Inauguration Ritual:
- The clan would gather at Rathfriland on the designated day
- The new lord, accompanied by priests and brehons (Gaelic lawyers), would approach the stone
- He would be seated on the inauguration stone in front of the assembled clan
- Formal oaths would be sworn—to defend the territory, uphold Gaelic law, protect the clan
- A rod or wand would be presented, symbolizing his authority
- He would be proclaimed as the rightful Lord of Iveagh
- Celebrations, feasting, and demonstrations of loyalty would follow
The stone itself was sacred—not in a religious sense, but in a deeply political and cultural one. Sitting on this particular stone, in this particular place, with the clan as witnesses, transformed a man into a lord. The stone legitimized his authority. It connected him to every previous lord who had sat there. It anchored his power in tradition and place.
Why Stones Mattered
Inauguration stones are found throughout Celtic Ireland and Scotland. The most famous is the Stone of Scone (also called the Stone of Destiny), used to crown Scottish and later British monarchs. Ireland had dozens of these stones, each associated with different kingdoms and lordships.
Why stones? In a world without extensive written records, without photographed ceremonies, the stone was the permanent witness. It couldn't be forged or disputed. Anyone could go to Rathfriland and see the stone—physical proof of the Mag Aonghusa clan's legitimate authority over Iveagh. The stone outlasted individual lords, dynasties, even the Gaelic political system itself.
Personal Reflection:
I think about this stone often. Somewhere in Rathfriland, it still exists—weathered, perhaps moved from its original location, maybe sitting unremarked in a field or incorporated into a church wall. But it's there. And one day, I want to find it, touch it, and think about all the Mag Aonghusa lords who sat there before me. From the first lord in 1150 to the last one who held legitimate power before the English conquest erased the old Gaelic order. Every single one of them sat on that stone. My ancestors. Our family. That stone knows our history in a way no book ever could.
The Warrenpoint Coronation Stone: A Second Seat
The existence of a second inauguration/coronation stone at Warrenpoint, on the shores of Carlingford Lough, raises fascinating questions about the extent and structure of Mag Aonghusa authority in Iveagh.
Why Two Stones?
Several theories exist about the Warrenpoint stone:
Theory 1: Sub-Lordship
Warrenpoint may have been the seat of a junior branch of the Mag Aonghusa clan or a subordinate lord who owed allegiance to the main line at Rathfriland. The stone would have been used for inaugurating these lesser lords, maintaining the ceremonial tradition while acknowledging the hierarchy.
Theory 2: Geographic Reach
Having inauguration stones in two locations—inland Rathfriland and coastal Warrenpoint—may have been a way of demonstrating the geographic extent of Mag Aonghusa power. It showed that the clan controlled both the heartland and the strategic coast.
Theory 3: Strategic Redundancy
In times of conflict or Norman pressure, having a second inauguration site ensured continuity of legitimate authority even if one site was inaccessible or compromised. Political insurance, essentially.
Whatever the original purpose, the Warrenpoint stone represents the sophistication of Gaelic political culture. This wasn't primitive tribalism—it was a complex system of legitimacy, hierarchy, and territorial control, all anchored in physical markers like these stones.
The Castles: Stone Witnesses to Conflict and Change
The castle ruins scattered across County Down tell the story of the Mag Aonghusa clan's relationship with external powers—Norman invaders, English conquerors, and the gradual erosion of Gaelic independence.
Dundrum Castle: The Norman Statement
Built by Norman invader John de Courcy in 1177, Dundrum Castle was never a Mag Aonghusa fortress—it was built to threaten and contain our clan. But in a paradoxical way, Dundrum is now part of our heritage because it represents what our ancestors faced and resisted for centuries.
Dundrum Castle - Physical Description:
- Built: 1177 (during Norman conquest of Ulster)
- Type: Stone curtain-wall castle with massive circular keep
- Location: Rocky hill overlooking Dundrum Bay and the Irish Sea
- Purpose: Military dominance and control of coastal Iveagh territory
- Current State: Substantial ruins; walls, keep, and gatehouse still standing
- Significance: Represents the beginning of external pressure on Gaelic lordships
When you stand in Dundrum Castle's ruins today, you're standing where Norman soldiers watched the Iveagh countryside, ready to respond to any Mag Aonghusa resistance. The castle's very existence was a statement: Your time is ending. But our ancestors didn't disappear. They adapted, negotiated, and survived for centuries more.
Narrow Water Castle: The Later Era
Narrow Water Castle, a 16th-century tower house on Carlingford Lough, represents a later chapter in the story. Built long after the height of Mag Aonghusa power, it shows the evolution of defensive architecture in Ireland and the changing nature of territorial control.
Tower Houses in Ireland:
By the 1500s, the old hilltop fortifications gave way to tower houses—compact, defensible residences that combined living quarters with military function. Narrow Water is a perfect example: thick stone walls, small windows, and strategic coastal placement.
While we don't know if the Mag Aonghusa clan controlled Narrow Water directly during this period, its location in traditional Iveagh territory makes it part of the landscape our family navigated during the complex 16th and 17th centuries.
These castles—whether built by us, against us, or in the aftermath of our political decline—are all part of the McGennis story. They mark the landscape of Iveagh, visible reminders of power, conflict, and the resilience required to survive centuries of change.
St. Patrick's Arm Shrine: Sacred Connections
One of the most fascinating artifacts connected to our family heritage is the association with relics of St. Patrick, Ireland's patron saint. Specifically, historical records indicate connections between the Mag Aonghusa clan and the shrine containing St. Patrick's arm.
Understanding Medieval Relics
In medieval Catholic Ireland, sacred relics—physical remains of saints or objects associated with them—were sources of immense spiritual and political power. Possessing or having custodial rights over important relics brought prestige, pilgrims, and legitimacy to a family or church.
St. Patrick's Arm Shrine:
St. Patrick, who brought Christianity to Ireland in the 5th century, died in County Down—our ancestral homeland. The preservation and veneration of his relics became central to Irish Catholic identity. The arm shrine (a reliquary containing his arm bone) was one of the most important religious artifacts in Ulster.
Historical evidence suggests the Mag Aonghusa clan had hereditary custodial rights or strong associations with this shrine, reflecting both our family's Catholic faith and our political importance in the region where St. Patrick himself had preached and died.
What This Connection Means
The association between the Mag Aonghusa clan and St. Patrick's relics isn't just religious—it's deeply political and cultural:
- • Legitimacy: Connection to Ireland's patron saint reinforced the Mag Aonghusa clan's authority as rightful rulers of the territory where St. Patrick's Christianity first flourished.
- • Identity: It tied our family's political power to Irish Catholic identity, creating a powerful narrative of being defenders of both territory and faith.
- • Continuity: Even as political structures changed under Norman and English pressure, religious custodianship provided continuity of family importance and respect.
Our family motto—"Sola Salus Servire Deo" (In the Service of God)—takes on deeper meaning when you understand this connection to St. Patrick's relics. Our ancestors didn't just rule territory; they were guardians of sacred heritage.
The Coat of Arms: A Living Artifact
Not all artifacts are physical objects you can touch. The Mag Aonghusa/McGennis coat of arms is an artifact of a different kind—a symbolic representation of family identity that has been preserved and transmitted across centuries.
The McGennis Coat of Arms
Shield (Or): Gold/yellow field representing generosity and elevation of mind
Red Hand of Ulster: A dexter hand couped at the wrist, gules (red) - the ancient symbol of Ulster nobility
Two Lions Rampant Guardant: Red lions standing, facing forward - courage, strength, protection
Lymphad (Ancient Galley): Black Irish boat - maritime power and the journey
"Every element tells part of our family's story"
Unlike the stones that stay in Ireland or the castles that crumble with time, the coat of arms traveled with the family. It came to America. It's on documents, in family Bibles, and now—thanks to research—displayed on our family website. The coat of arms is an artifact that lives wherever we live.
The Red Hand Legend
The Red Hand of Ulster is particularly significant. According to legend, two chieftains raced by boat to claim Ulster's lands. The first to touch shore would win. Seeing he would lose, one chieftain cut off his own hand and threw it to shore, thereby "touching" land first and winning the territory.
Whether historical fact or myth, the legend captures something essential about the character required to rule in medieval Ireland: boldness, sacrifice, and the willingness to do whatever it took to claim and hold power. That hand on our coat of arms is a reminder that our ancestors weren't passive observers of history—they were active, sometimes brutal, players in the contest for power and survival.
What These Artifacts Mean for Us Today
Sitting here in Jefferson City, Missouri—thousands of miles from County Down—these artifacts might seem like distant curiosities. But they're not. They're the physical anchors of our family identity.
Why Artifacts Matter:
1. They Make History Real
Reading about the Lords of Iveagh is one thing. Knowing there's a stone chair that your ancestors actually sat on for inaugurations—that's different. It makes the history tangible, real, undeniable.
2. They Provide Pilgrimage Destinations
These artifacts give me specific places to visit when I make the journey to Ireland. Not just "County Down" but "the inauguration stone at Rathfriland." Specific. Personal. Connected.
3. They Connect Generations
When I tell Leonardo and Raphael about the inauguration stone, I can show them pictures, describe it, build anticipation. One day we'll go there together and touch it. That physical experience will create a connection to their heritage that no book can provide.
4. They Symbolize Permanence
Political systems change. Kingdoms fall. Families emigrate. But the stone remains. The castle walls remain. These artifacts outlast everything else, silent witnesses to the reality that the Mag Aonghusa clan existed, ruled, mattered, and left their mark on Ireland.
As an entrepreneur, I think about legacy constantly. What will BXP, The Honey Homestead, Nostalgia Nuke, and our other ventures leave behind? What will people point to in 100 years and say, "Caleb McGennis built that"?
Our ancestors built castles, established ceremonial traditions, and guarded sacred relics. We build businesses, serve in ministry, and raise the next generation with strong values. The artifacts may look different, but the impulse is the same: leave something permanent, something meaningful, something that witnesses to our existence and purpose.
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