Knockainey, Midsummer and the scent of Meadowsweet.

Midsummer is almost upon us, our senses filled with colour, the heady scents of woodbine 

and wild sweet pea, the sound of bees and birds. 

Almost overnight, clouds of meadowsweet appear along the boreen. 

In folk medicine meadowsweet, Airgead Luachra, ‘silver rushes’

was used to cure fevers and colds as well as easing pain. 

In Co. Galway meadowsweet was placed under the bed of a person afflicted by wasting sickness brought on by contact with the Good People. The use of the flower was fraught with danger however, as patients risked falling into a deep and deadly sleep.

Also known as Cúchulainn’s Belt, meadowsweet was said to have reduced 

the heroes’ fever and calmed his fits of rage. 

It was Àine however, the ‘bright’ goddess often associated with the sun, who gave meadowsweet its’ perfume. 

In the old tales she is described as “the best-natured of women”.

Àine is found in several places in the Irish landscape, including Lough Gur 

where she is remembered as Bean Fhionn, White Lady. 

Link to previous post about Àine & Lough Gur ~
LOUGH GUR - “a personality loved, but also feared.”

Her main residence however is her hill, Cnoc Áine, Knockainey, which is steeped in myth.

Knockainey from Bóher Na Sceach, ‘road of the thorns’. 

Ritual once took place here on Oiche Fhéile Eóin, St. John’s Eve, June 23rd.

The celebration falls close to the Summer Solstice and many believe it has its’ roots in pagan ritual. 

In legend Áine, using her magic, helped to take the hill from the Firbolg so that her people, the Tuatha Dé Danann, could settle there. 

Her price for preventing bloodshed was that “the hill were given to her till the end of the world.”  

At 528 feet high, the summit provides views across the landscape to the hills around Lough Gur, 

to Knockfierna and to the sacred fires which would once have been lit on hill tops to celebrate the changing seasons. 

Knockfierna to the west of Knockainey. 

Folklore tells that the local fairies, led by Áine, used to play a hurling match against the god, 

Donn Firinne who lived beneath Knockfierna. 

Whoever was victorious would ensure a successful potato crop.

The top of Áine’s Hill, difficult to reach in the summer months due to grazing cattle, has the remains of three mounds. These were believed to be the dwelling places of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Eogabal (said by some to be Aine's father), 

Fer Fi and Áine.

Diagram of Knockainey mounds from Thomas J. Westropp, 

 “The Ancient Sanctuaries of Knockainey and Clogher, Co. Limerick and Their Goddesses”

Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy 1917 - 1919 

After visiting Knockainey Westropp describes’s Áine’s cairn as

 “a defaced, insignificant heap of earth and stones wrecked by treasure-seekers.” 

As late as the 19th century celebrations were held at Midsummer and at harvest when burning brands of hay and straw were carried to the summit.

Evans-Wentz, W. Y. - 'The Fairy-faith in Celtic Countries', London: H. Frowde, 1911.

The goddess herself was believed to lead a similar rite. 

Several wells are marked on the old maps suggesting that there may have been rituals involving water. 

One ‘curious’ well which flowed down the slope beneath her mound was recorded as 

Áine’s Well and she was said to haunt the local river as a banshee, combing her hair beside the waters of the Camòg.

All that can be found today is Mary's Well in the village.  

A series of exposed rocks, the remains of an old quarry, hide the elusive Áine Clíar's Cave.

The Hill and land around Knockainey is filled with ancient monuments, mounds and standing stones once part of Bronze and Iron Age burial traditions and ceremonies. 

The landscape holds its’ secrets but still whispers, in the summer months, of forgotten rituals, celebrations to the sun and to Áine, the “ beautiful spirit crowned with meadowsweet”.

Offerings to Áine at the river.

Click link below to read more about Knockainey & view the surrounding landscape from the summit ~ 

VOICES FROM THE DAWN

Æ, artist & mystic - “And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.”

‘The Spirit of the Pool via the Beauty of Art’

I first saw the work of the Irish visionary, George William Russell some twenty years ago and have been fascinated by his life ever since.  

Self portrait as a young man and an older Æ, described as having eyes 

“like well-springs in a wildwood of hair and beard.” 

Born in County Armagh in 1867, his family moved to Dublin when he was a child and it was here that Russell remained throughout his life. 

Plaque outside 84 Merrion Square, Dublin where Æ once worked.

You can read more about his life HERE

It was on a visit to his aunt in Drumgor, Co. Antrim when he was 16, that Russell experienced his first vision:

‘The Stolen Child’

"there broke in on me an almost intolerable lustre of light - pure and shining faces, 

dazzling processions of figures - most ancient, ancient places 

and peoples and landscapes lovely as the lost Eden"

‘Deirdre at the door of her Dun’

After hearing a voice whispering “AEON” to him as he painted, Russell used the pseudonym Æ to sign his work from then on.

Æ’s signature on the Autograph Tree next to that of WB Yeats at Coole Park.

Although known primarily as a poet, he was a painter, a committed worker for the Co-Operative Society, an editor and co-founder of the famous Abbey Theatre in Dublin as well as a mystic.

Æ’s visions of the ‘many-coloured land’ and the Tuatha Dé Danann inspired many of his early paintings and he continued to paint the Otherworld throughout his life.

‘Spirit of the Sea’

His spirits and fairies were not the small, winged creatures of Victorian fantasy but huge, dominating presences, the ‘Shining Ones’, their heads crowned with ‘flames’ of energy. 

They were Warriors, 

‘The Crusade’

‘Wood chopper and Tree Spirit’

Spirits of wood, water and cave

‘Aeon’

‘Lissadell fairies cavern’

and the Tuatha Dé Danann of Ireland who demanded respect.

‘Petition’

‘Tired’

Russell, known as the ‘myriad-minded man’, died aged 68. 

He is buried in Mount Jerome Cemetery, Dublin.

Many of his paintings are held in public collections throughout Ireland and others have emerged 

since his death.

Lying concealed beneath wallpaper at 3 Ely Place in Dublin are more of Æ’s visions. 

Two murals have been uncovered in the building which was once the headquarters of the Theosophical Society in Ireland. Others may surface in the future.

Æ’s visions continue to inspire.

“And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.”

Russell's poem ‘A Dream of Angus Oge’ and Winter Solstice at Newgrange.  

A video by Mythical Ireland.

More about Russell and the Theosophical Society can be found HERE

A visit to Biddy Early's - The Wise Woman of Clare

Last week I  travelled to County Clare to visit the remains of Biddy Early's cottage.
I was about to begin a new painting and as part of my research I looked for the photographs that I'd taken there nine years previously. I hunted high and low but they had gone.
Not only that but my friend, who had been with me back then, had also misplaced hers, so I left home
for a second pilgrimage to Feakle.

This time, alone, I found the over grown pathway which leads to the remains of Biddy's cottage. 

Biddy Early was a renowned herbalist and healer, using her cures to help both people and animals, skills which seem to have been handed down by her mother.
She was reputed to be in touch with the Good People and some in Clare viewed her as a descendant
of the Tuatha Dé Danann.
Many of those who sought her help travelled great distances and none were turned away from her door. For this service she took no money but would accept poitín, whiskey or food in return.

Her cottage, near Feakle, hidden in a tangle of trees and surrounded 
by greenery now stands forlorn.  

Biddy was born in 1798, the year of the Rebellion and baptised Bridget Connor, but she was always 

known by her mother's maiden name, Early.

Her parents died within six months of each other, forcing Biddy to leave home aged 16 and take to the 

roads. She went on to marry four times, surviving each of her husbands and her only child, Tom, 

who died of typhus aged eight. 

Her life was extremely hard and Biddy lived through famine, evictions, disease and forced emigrations. 

Looking through the doorway into the cottage with a chair left by a previous visitor.
On entering there is stillness, silence and an atmosphere which cannot be described.

Biddy's most mysterious power was reputed to lie in her famous Blue Bottle.
Where this bottle originated is unclear, some say her mother returned from the dead to give it to
her daughter, whilst others firmly believe that it was a gift from the Otherworld.
By looking into it she was said to predict futures and divine the source of illness so accurately that people from all over the country sought her help.

It was well known that Biddy was close to the Good People throughout her life and on occasion intervened to save those marked by the Sídhe who were due to be 'taken'. It was understood that she paid a price for this ability and was beaten by supernatural fists.

Her fame as a wise woman, who helped those in poverty and need, was considered by the church
to be dangerous and disruptive. Although she was well respected within her community the parish priest denounced Biddy from the altar and admonished people for visiting her.

Offerings, including a blue bottle, are left in remembrance of Biddy on the window sill inside. 
My own, a small white quartz pebble left 9 years ago, still lies there amongst the coins, 
jewellery, stones and shells.

In 1865 Biddy Early was accused of practicing witchcraft. 

During her trial in Ennis many people who had benefitted from Biddy's skills supported her and 

by the end most of her accusers had withdrawn their testimonies. 

She was acquitted of the charge due to lack of evidence. 

Three years later, aged 70, Biddy married for the last time. Her husband, Thomas, who was 40, 

passed away after a year and widowed once more, she spent her remaining days alone. 

Despite her fame and skill Biddy continued to spend her life in poverty.

In April 1873 Biddy Early died peacefully in her two roomed cottage, aged 75.

A priest was present at her death and she is buried in the local cemetery although her grave is unmarked.  At her funeral Father Dore of  Feakle is reported to have said,
“We thought we had a demon amongst us in poor Biddy Early, but we had a saint and we did
not know it.”

On her death the famous Blue Bottle was thrown into the nearby lake, now a bog.
Although it has been searched for since, the bottle was never found and it is understood that the
Good People took it back.

Biddy's renovated cottage as seen in the RTÉ film.

In the late 1960's a local man, Dr. Bill Loughnane, reconstructed and furnished Biddy's cottage,
as can be seen in this short RTÉ film - link below. According to stories the doctor had nothing but misfortune following this venture and the building was left to fall.

CLICK HERE to visit RTÉ  and watch archive footage inside Biddy's cottage.

Such is the enduring nature of Biddy Early's legacy that 142 years later, people here are still wary
of her powers and she is named by some as a wise woman, by others a witch.

The gable end of the cottage & nook next to the fireplace where a visitor had recently rested.

Standing there alone I felt a curious atmosphere in the remains of her cottage.
After taking the photos you see above, I turned to take a shot of the hearth when my camera stopped working. I felt my presence had been tolerated for long enough so I left.

The folklorist Eddie Lenihan talked with many people whose families had personal contact with Biddy. You can listen to Eddie and local residents reflect on the Wise Woman in this video:

Eddie's book 'The Search for Biddy Early' can be found here:

http://www.amazon.com/Search-Biddy-Early-Edmund-Lenihan/dp/0853428204

'Biddy Early - The Wise Woman of Clare' by Meda Ryan is here:
http://www.mercierpress.ie/irish-books/biddy_early/

Otherworld shenanigans- Digging for Gold.

The field of the Fairy Path - © Jane Brideson 2015

It was on an evening such as this back in the 1970's, when there was a good stretch in the day and work on the land was done, that Jim and his friends decided to dig for gold.

Everyone knew the story about the treasure that was buried in the Lough Field and how the place was home to the Good People, which was why no one had dared to go looking for it before.

The lads believed the story about hidden riches, for hadn't gold been found in Offaly just down the road?
The thought of wealth won out against their fear of the fairies' displeasure and they decided to
go ahead with the search.

The Lough Field is large so firstly they needed to find the right spot.
Advice was sought from Jack D, a well known dowser, who had found water sources for most of
the domestic wells in the locality. Jack was interested in archaeology so gladly took his hazel rod to
the field. He walked its' length and breadth and finally the rod twitched and the old dowser was convinced he'd found the right spot.

The Diviner - Pic © 'Ireland: the living landscape' by Tom Kelly, Peter Somerville-Large & Seamus Heaney.
The book can be found HERE

At first the lads used spades but it was heavy going and they realised it would take days.
Things looked bleak until someone suggested borrowing a digger.
The machine was brought and despite the boggy conditions the earth was scooped up into the bucket then deposited in a mound.

Pic © skyscraper city.com

The mound got higher and the hole got deeper.
They reached a depth of thirty feet when the sides of the hole began to collapse.
Looking down into darkness the lads realised they had reached the bottom of Lough Duff.

The sun began to sink in the western sky and there was a chill in the air.

Sunset from the Lough Field 2014 © Jane Brideson.

They remembered the tales of the Good People and just as they were about to give up and go home there was a loud sucking sound and the digger brought up one final massive lump of earth.

As the bucket was lowered it became clear that this was more than wet turf.

Something large and heavy lay before them. 

"This is it" thought the lads, the gold was found and they would soon be rich!
Everyone took a hand cleaning away the mud until finally the treasure was revealed. 

Something had indeed been buried in the lough many years ago but it wasn't gold. 

"And begob" Jim said to me "if it wasn't a canoe!"
Before them lay an ancient dug out canoe.
It was long, dark and looked like a hollowed out log, shaped to travel through shallow water.

From Jim's description the Lough Duff canoe was similar to the picture above 

& may have been crafted in the Bronze Age circa 2,200 BCE. Pic © prehistoricwaterford.com

In the twilight the questions began: Was it worth anything? Whose boat was it? 
How old was it? Did it sink with a man on board, if so where was the body? 

A number of dug-out canoes have been uncovered in Ireland. 

They appear to have been used for travel on small rivers, lakes & used for fishing.

The canoe above was discovered when Lough Derryvaragh was drained & where, 

according to legend, some of the Tuatha De Danann settled.  

Even more worrying was the fact that it may not have belonged to a mortal at all. 

Everyone knew that there had been an island in the lough belonging to the Good People so perhaps 
it was a fairy boat from the Otherworld. 
Had they disturbed Them?  What would happen to the lads now?

This was serious and as all thoughts of wealth vanished they discussed their options. 
Finally it was decided to fetch the priest who was over from America visiting his relations nearby. 

"If anyone knew what was to be done, it was him" Jim explained.

The priest arrived and after berating them for their foolishness in messing with the Lough Field, 
he wisely told them to put the canoe back where it had lain for all those years.
If they didn't follow his advice and bury the boat, he told them, no good would come of their actions 
and they would have no luck.
And so it was done. 

The canoe was returned to the earth, the turf replaced and soon reeds covered the spot again.

Lough Field 2015 © Jane Brideson.

That was forty years ago. 
Jack, the dowser, along with Jim and the other lads are no longer with us, so there is no one left who remembers the spot where the canoe rests.
As I walk the Lough Field to cut the reeds each Brigid's Eve I remember them all on that evening 
and how the place still holds its secret, not gold but treasure of a different kind.



The 'Otherworld Shenanigans' posts are based upon the tales and reminiscences of my elderly neighbour, Jim, who lived his life in the same house he was born in. 

Jim died several years ago and is remembered as a real character by those who knew him.