The land on which Parke’s Castle stands was once the domain of the O’Rourkes, rulers of West Bréifne. Their original tower house stood at Newtowne, one of several fortified residences controlled by the clan across the region.

But the late 1500s brought crisis. Faced with the advancing Tudor conquest, chieftain Brian O’Rourke made a drastic decision: rather than allow his castles to fall into English hands, he destroyed them himself.

After the Plantation of Leitrim in 1620, the O’Rourke lands were confiscated and eventually granted to Robert Parke, an English settler. On the ruins of the demolished tower house, Parke constructed a fortified manor overlooking Lough Gill.

For a time, Parke thrived. He gained land grants, political roles, and influence, and employed both Irish and English workers. His decision to remain neutral during the 1641 Rebellion likely shielded his estate from attack – but it also drew suspicion. His powerful neighbour, Sir Frederick Hamilton of Manorhamilton, noted that Parke’s lands had been spared during raids in Sligo and accused him of colluding with local rebels. Hamilton ordered Parke’s village burned and imprisoned Parke for almost two years.

During the turbulence of the Confederate Wars, the castle changed hands several times before Parke eventually returned. He resumed civic life and remained influential in the area until his death in 1671.

Robert and his wife Ann had three children – Ann, Robert, and Mary – yet only their daughter Ann is mentioned in his surviving will. Local folklore claims that the younger Robert and Mary drowned in Lough Gill, though no reliable date has been recorded. Some sources suggest 1677, but this conflicts with known timelines.

As per Parke’s wishes, the estate passed to his daughter Ann, who later married into the Gore family. By then, however, the manor was already in decline. Over the next two centuries, the grounds became a farmyard, and the house crumbled into ruin — its rooms empty, stairways collapsed, and ivy threading through its walls.

The Irish Free State purchased the property in 1935, and restoration finally began. Today, Parke’s Castle is fully preserved and open to visitors during the summer months. Yet many say the site’s earlier tragedies still linger.

One of the most persistent stories linked to Parke’s Castle is the apparition of a young girl. Curiously, guides – and even some media sources – have referred to her as “Lady Anne,” borrowing the name of Parke’s surviving daughter, though there is no evidence linking the spirit to her. Witnesses describe the child wearing an old-fashioned dress, her hair wet and hanging loose. She is most often seen near the gatehouse or by the water’s edge at dusk. Some say she hums; others say she simply stands, gazing toward the lake.

A guide once reported seeing a small figure in an upstairs window long after closing — a girl in period dress who vanished the moment he looked back.

A tourist claimed to have photographed a faint outline of a child on the spiral staircase at sunset, despite no children being on-site that evening.

Another couple walking the courtyard heard a loud splash in the lake, followed by a child’s giggle — though the water was perfectly still.

While these reports are anecdotal, many include remarkably consistent details.

Elsewhere in the castle, visitors and staff have spoken of childlike footsteps in empty rooms, lights flickering after hours, and a sudden overwhelming sadness in one exhibition area. Others recall the banquet hall falling eerily silent — the kind of silence that makes people stop talking without knowing why.