“Welcome! Enter!” cried the Medieval “Butler” greeting us at the stone gate of Bunratty Castle in Ireland. We had been invited to a reception, then dinner along with 300 or so of our friends.
The “Butler” ushered us in and directed us immediately right where a maid pointed the way to a VERY narrow spiral stone staircase and we climbed three stories to the Great Room above. I squashed my claustrophobia. 
In the Great Room, we were offered mead, a medieval beer-like drink made mostly with honey, so it was much sweeter than beer. We got to mill around and gawk. We received our instructions in the Great Room and followed the Butler and the maid back down the stone stairs to the dining area.
Fine Dining
We feasted in a big stone room with a huge fireplace along one wall and doors along the other. Long tables and benches were set up for us and we packed in like sardines. We enjoyed four courses and before each one, the Butler introduced a maid who described our food. Each table had a maid serving from the head where she dished up and we passed our plates. Water bowls in front of us allowed us to clean our fingers after eating the best tasting ribs I’ve ever gobbled – without utensils.
Then we had soup which we drank from our bowls.
When the main course came, we stabbed the chicken with our knives, picked it up and bit off our mouthfuls. How did medieval people eat like that and keep their clothes clean?
Oh – and the round red potatoes were done to perfection. How did we help ourselves to those? Why stabbing them with our knives, of course, and taking bites off them. Yum Yum!
Knavery in the Dining Hall
The “Lord” and his “Lady” were chosen from among us. They presided over the banquet. We were enjoying our repast when suddenly the “Butler” came before us again.
“I’m sorry to say there is a knave among us doing his dastardly deeds. He has been found trifling with my lady’s affections…” We gasped. How could this be?
He put up his hands and dipped his head. “Alas, ‘tis so. My Lord—what would you have done to him?”
“The dungeon! The dungeon!”
Another guest, among us, became a knave. How could he? Off to the dungeon he went.
The Butler continued to chat with us and then said, “O hear the screams from the dungeon!”
A moan.
“O HEAR the screams from the dungeon!”
Another moan.
“This is not good enough! O HEAR THE SCREAMS FROM THE DUNGEON!”
The poor man let out a couple screams. Then he was brought forth among us, hung his head dutifully, and sent back to his dinner amidst our applause. He really did scream quite well after all.
Entertainment
Our dessert arrived then, a mousse. With—more gasping—spoons! As we ate our dessert, our servants became very talented minstrels. We were held transfixed with both music and the Irish songs they sang, ending with “Danny Boy.”
We learned that the harp is the national symbol of Ireland and not the shamrock.
A Final Farewell Serenade
As we left Bunratty Castle, the haunting sounds of a piper sent us on our way.
Sounds like a fun time at the castle! I’m glad the harp is the symbol, and not the shamrock.
Delightful read!
Thanks, Laurie. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It sure was a fun write!
Linda Jo, how fun! I’m excited that you spent a day in the courts of joy! Better is one day in His courts than a thousand elsewhere! Great photos and story. You made my day.
‘Twas a very fun evening, Lynn. A great way to learn history besides sitting in a class. I’m glad you enjoyed it, too!