"Irish historical figures and Ireland's midlands"

Evocation of a patriot and a prophet 

 

     

 

One of the unsung heroes of Irish history is James Fintan Lalor - a man whose influence fans out like a tentacle of many parts: Lalor, the writer and wordsmith whose precision with words was a quixotic quill which weaved mesmeric patterns, whose mind and intellect were like a lynchpin for the finer things in life to take tangible form, whose legacy can be read and discerned in the proclamation of 1916, whose presence can be felt in the words of Pearse and Connolly, in addition, to the Land League and Michael Davitt. James Fintan Lalor truly was a man ahead of his time, the fact that he was just 42 when he died, means that Ireland was robbed of a powerful light and a powerful vibration had ceased to resonate in the isle of emerald dreams. Lalor was connected to the land at some deep subconscious and visceral level; it was like he had dwelled in the depths and bowels of the earth for infinity. He seemed to perceive every nuance and sensibility as if his faculty were possessed of the maternal instinct for her bounty. He seemed to apprehend the thief that would dare take away the essence of the land and its mystique. Lalor was the guardian of Ireland's  lifeblood - her raison d'etre!   

The boycott went all around the world, after it was first utilised during the agrarian/land wars in Ballinrobe, County Mayo, in 1879. Whilst the Land League and the outstanding Michael Davitt rightly reaped the kudos, the undoubted oracle for such a tactic - in its embryonic stage - was Fintan Lalor! For it was he who argued in 1849, during the great Irish Famine, in the heady post Young Ireland days, for its enaction. During the deep dark night of his twilight - the final year of his presence on this plane of existence, Lalor premised the tactic of defying the landlord through an, at first Gandhiesque type of passive resistance (accelerating it into full blown physical force, if necessary), in which withholding the rent or tithe would force the landlord into submission and callow capitulation! This was the first articulate sounding and evocation of what became known as the boycott! In many ways, just like the poet, James Clarence Mangan, and to a lesser extent, fellow poet Thomas Davis, had both personified the soul of the famine, so too did Lalor!

'Ireland her own, and all therein, from the sod to the sky. The soil of Ireland for the people of Ireland, to have and to hold from God alone who gave it - to have and to hold to them and their heirs forever, without service or suit, rent or render, to any power under Heaven.'  This famous quote of Lalor, could be described as a pioneering oracle for the immortal words of the Proclamation of 1916: 'We declare the right of the people of Ireland to the ownership of Ireland, and the unfettered control of Irish destinies, both sovereign and indeafisible.' Such are the parallels, it's almost as if Connolly and Pearse had travelled back in time, or were his earnest students, and were kneeling down in respect and humble servitude before their master! He was the sage of the Irish maelstrom; he was the guru for those who followed; the path he marked out was zealously and religiously followed by the apostles of 1916; he was the pastor or shepherd in the rural wilderness of Ireland's heartache. The seed that he planted, bloomed graciously with Davitt and the Land League in the1870's/'80's, and then blossomed and burgeoned in 1916 with Pearse and Connolly into a tidal wave of profound positivity. 

Oh for the Midlands! What genes embroiled themselves in the genealogy of County Laois to produce such greatness? For at the dawn of the nineteenth century, a child was born, who lived but 42 years, yet in that time, through the power of his quixotic quill, the vast, uncountable and ingenious wonder of his mind, the ultra long luminescent funnel of his vision, the infinite love of his passion, the mystical and almost psychic attachment to the earth, and the land of Ireland, that he bore and carried within his heart, succeeded in carving a tapestry of infinite light. James Fintan Lalor was a prophet, a visionary, whose perennial vision needs to be sung and played once and for all! His vision just like the aforementioned Connolly is as relevant and valid today, as in his own lifetime, as for Davitt and the era of the Land League, as for Connolly and Pearse and Clarke and the men of '16. For that bi-polar duality, that fusion of the two belief systems: the Land Question and the National Question into one solid unit and mass, as personified by Fintan Lalor himself, can still resonate today via a seismic movement to bring back the land and its constituents to its rightful owners: the people!

PS James Fintan Lalor has great connections to Raheen and there is a striking monument to him in Portlaoise.

"Grand cathedrals and architectural gems"

One of the great cathedrals of Ireland which is comparable with the great cathedrals of France like
Chartres, Notre Dame and so on is Cobh Cathedral. Dating from 1868, it is an example of neo-Gothic architecture at its finest - fine flying buttresses flanking the sides like ornate trimmings on a gregarious garment, pointed arched entrances - and is a product of a pupil of the famous architect Pugin - the architect Ashlin. Hence it is one of the great attractions and gems of Ireland.

Impressive facade of Cobh Cathedral

                                                                   Pointed Arches


Take a look at the capitals above the pillars both sides of the aisle and you'll see little carvings & depictions  of the Green Man symbolism. In this respect, it reminds me of that emigma and jewel of the world - Roslyn Chapel in Edinburgh, Scotland - and like those aforementioned grand cathedrals of France, in that it is a hybrid fusion of different influences and belief systems, encapsulated under one matrix. Although Saint Patrick's Cathedral in Dublin is the biggest church in Ireland and could claim as much right to being held aloft on a grandiose scale, it doesn't have that sense of 'As Above, so below', which Cobh has, in the tradition and paradigm of the Templar Cathedrals of France. For this reason, I believe it is the king of cathedrals in Ireland and is a wonder of Ireland's heritage.


ENIGMATIC AND SURREAL NOMENCLATURE

Perhaps its most striking and compelling characteristic is the depictions of swastikas engraved on the floor close to the entrance on the left hand side, as one goes in. This makes it not only an ecclesiastical and architectural gem of uniqueness but also an exemplar of places which had these much maligned geometric figures engrained in their vesture. As such, it is an invaluable relic in which to behold the true Swastika and power of its symbolism; mindful of the fact, that other places in Ireland that had Swastikas carved into their architecture have long since gone - Ballsbridge Laundry in Dublin, to cite but one case - the fact that this cathedral has Swastika carvings, means this is one place at least where they can still be beheld.

Swastikas carved in the tiled floor

In deep detail; a fine exemplar of these ancient symbols!

A relic of Ireland

Perhaps these Swastikas are above all what make Cobh Cathedral extra special and a totally unique place in Ireland; taking the cathedral out of the narrow lexicon of architectural and ecclesiastical heritage, into the broader domain of jewels and gems pertaining to many fields. It is a place that needs to be seen and makes one feel, one is in the domain of master craftsmen who have been continually crafting their wares since the dawn of time.

"Popular Cromlecks in the Mourne County"

Legananny Dolmen

Situated off the Legananny road between Castlewellan and Dromara, in the shadow of Slieve Croob in county Down, is Legananny Dolmen. This dolmen is one of the most picturesque and idyllically located dolmens in Ulster, if not in Ireland. To reach it from the road, one turns off a side road, then climbs a slightly rising lane adjacent to a farmer's house; lying as it does on slightly high ground, makes it seem to stand as a sentinel of the landscape. It's almost as if it is the mainstay of the countryside; everything around it, is a subordinate vassal; and hence it has a strategic significance, as is the case and the raison d'etre of many vintage dolmens. Additionally, it is a little different to a lot of dolmens, in that the standing portals, are not particuarly high. What is the alluring part, is its capstone - particularly heavy and imposing, as if a sturdy beast, erect on short stumpy stocky legs! Upon seeing it the lines from the Yeats' poem 1919 The Second Coming spring to mind: A shape with lion body and the head of a man is moving ITS SLOW SINEWY THIGHS.

Close up view

According to the information panel, the townland of Legananny translated from the Gaelic, means townland of Anya, and herein the bardic nomenclature of placenames overlaps and entwines with the mythology. For in mythology, Anya was a lesser known lady of that giant Fionn MacCumhaill, and whilst lots of dolmens (giants graves) may have references to Fionn MacCumhaill or giants throwing massive monoliths around the landscape, this one has romantic connotations. With the wild and rugged and enchanting scenery of the surrounding hills of mid Down, this seems appropriate. (As an aside, some dolmens don't have information panels, but this one is well illustrated).

Sloping hills in the background similiar to Western Scotland and Galicia

Located in an area lying between - at the crossroads, if you like - the Mourne mountains and south east Down and the vicinity of Ballynahinch, in a wilderness of its own making, it's interesting that there are quite a few megaliths to be found in the locality, which aren't that well known or highlighted. A case in point, would be the 12 Cairns before Dromara; this makes it that bit more satisfying to hunt down these sites in this area, as if ticking off the boxes on an hidden wall chart; the megalith hunter is in the full chase. This dolmen - Legananny Dolmen - is a real delight - the paths of pleasure veer out like the spokes of a wheel, and leave one in a daze; it's why megaliths are such potent firebrands. But the fact that it's in the unseen part of an underrated county makes it a sight worth beholding!

To the left in the distance is the Mournes - the inspiration for the Narnia tales demonstrating the multi layered strata of county Down.

"Gilded watermills of Ireland"

Bealick Mill: enchantment flowing serenely

Rhythmically communing with a lovely watermill

Watermills are as fine a piece of machinery and as delightful an heritage site as one could hope to meet. There is one in Kilbeggan, county Westmeath, beside the old whiskey distillery, which is most pleasing, but Bealick Mill, outside Macroom, county Cork (West Cork) is particularly enchanting. It's one of these places where the elements seem to blend together to shower one's being in a fountain of knowledge. I just wanted to sit down on the ground by the river Larney and let its serene flow flood my being; I just wanted to lie down on the ground, and let my heart beat and my soul rhythmically commune with the rotating spin of the mill's wheels. And it seems only fitting that it is to be found in the heart of West Cork, which is much like South Armagh, in that it has all the credentials and characteristics of a republic within itself! 

Impressive facade of the Heritage and Crafts Centre

The building and mill has quite a dignified and strong history: erected in the early nineteenth century having once housed the first public electrical generator in Ireland, the potentialities and scope of opportunities that it could also in time be utilised for, are many:

1) Could some sort of arts and crafts co-op be set up - the building being the lynch pin for it? (of course, Rosscarbery in the district of West Cork, was the progenitor of the first great Co-op in Europe, established by William Thompson in 1824!).

2) Although the days of the CE Schemes providing part-time community work for people are now gone, perhaps as my host said to me, people could be induced into volunteering to assist in the day to day activities of the centre. The old Gaelic concept of the Meitheal springs to mind - so vital and relevant now - of the community as a whole mucking in together for the common good, and taking the workload off one individual, who has been rendered and burdened into near exhaustion; this mode of thought could be applied for the betterment of the Heritage Centre.

THE ACOUSTIC THERAPY OF WATERMILLS

There is something really relaxing about watermills; the locomotion at work, the rotation of the wheels, the full revolution and cycle of the movement and spin, reflecting the sun and the earth in their circumnavigations, me thinks! But they also symbolically, seem to replicate the meanderings of mother earth, the veering and swaying of the circadian currents of the human body, and the human heartbeat when totally in harmony and balanced. They are such simple pieces of machinery; yet, as always, with the simple, the simple things can produce and reap the greatest dividend; for the value of the watermill is infinitesimal, just like the windmill etc.

Where elements seem to blend together

IRELAND'S FIRST WATERMILL

According to the annals and chronicles of ancient Ireland, the nation's first watermill, was established by King Cormac MacArt (who reigned circa 260 AD) by the Gabhra river in the Tara/Skyrne Valley, to alleviate the toil of a local woman, who was carrying the pails of water on her back! Cormac MacArt is generally accepted to have been an historical figure so the story might well be true. The probable location of the mill was near Brundlestown, which is now the interchange for the M3 motorway!



Beelick Watermill is a lovely mill, with a setting as picturesque as if in some Impressionist painting; the river Larney is as quaint as a water siren playing for the first time, and the building is an architectural gem - as aesthetically pleasing as any of the great houses of Ireland. The stream and the mill are like pieces of enchantment on a mosaic floor to behold - for they will embolden and brighten your day. Ach sure just let your thoughts float away and start dreaming....

PS Opposite here there are some standing stones to be found, which mark the site of a battle involving Brian Boru in the late 900's. I'll have to return to see them!

The hypnotic wheel turn of a watermill

"Islands and daring sea forts"

Dun Aengus: Promontory Fort by Atlantic's foam

Perched on the largest of the three Aran Islands - Inis Mor - off the west coast of Ireland, is a defense fort by the cliff, properly called a Promontory Fort in archaeological parlance. This is a spectacular stone fortification which overlooks the foaming Atlantic below! Others can be seen on the west coast of Ireland - around the Dingle Peninsula particularly - and there are one or two others on Inis Mor but this one is particularly famous and well known! Dated to circa 1,000 BC, it's not known why it was constructed save that the builders clearly felt under threat from the sea and marauders coming in from the Atlantic. Some theorists attribute it to the mythical Fir Bolg - who according to the chronicles, after defeat by the Tuatha De Danaan, were allowed to take refuge in Connacht (the west), as part of the peace treaty after the battle. Hence, the legends dictate that the Fir Bolg retreated to the west! The one thing archaeologists are adamant about is that there is some Iberian connection, and as I've alluded to before in some posts in this blog, there are undoubtedly connections between Ireland and the Iberian Peninsula, which re-inforce the many references in the myths.

My first visit here was back in 1993, and permit me to digress a little here - for on that trip, I got one of the worst sun burnings I've ever had (my last one!). The Atlantic breezes tend to be very warm, and a hot torrent wafts ashore from the west! Anyway.... It was an amazing feeling when first getting to Dun Aengus - in the days, much like Newgrange, when heritage sites were yet to be commercialised - I was able to walk straight up into the fort, without having to go through the omnipresent Visitor's/Intrepretive Centre, which cropped up at many places in the late 90's! Lying over the edge, was a spectacular experience; the crazy and whimsical idea I had, of throwing the football I had with me, into the herculean Atlantic below, to see if it would float out to sea, an example of youthful and capricious exuberance, as if the lady of caprice was waving her mantle or cape avidly for me there!

The name of the fort is interesting - Dun Aengus - Aengus's Fort - and making a beeline for the mythology, the permutations are interesting. For, of course, Newgrange is often called "Aengus's Tomb or Palace" - in fact, that's what it's known as in the mythology - Aengus being the son of the male deity, the Dagda; Aengus the Gaelic God of love - him of the famous Song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats. So does the fort have some connection to Aengus? Certainly, the view from here of the Atlantic below and the elliptical angle of the cliff, as elliptical as the curve a half moon makes, would fertilise the most banal muse and feed the most barren mind into fertile and inspiring creativity! So as an aside, apart from its clear defensive purposes, perhaps it's meant to be a kind of romantic refuge or bastion! (Of course, in the days of yore, when it was noncommercialised - just like Newgrange - one could walk up to it, stay as long as one wished, contemplate, meditate and let the eloquence and muse drift in, from the Atlantic!!)

At the entrance to Dun Aengus promontory stone fort; on my third and final visit 2002

                                                                       
Notwithstanding the now commercialised nature of the site, to actually see those limestone walls and stonework, the very impressively built structure of this promontory fort, and to gaze out at the broad and billowing Atlantic - foaming felicitously and powerfully, gives one a great insight, into why the land of Ireland, the island of Eireann, has mystery and mystique laced all over it like an embroidered quilt, embroidered intricately! In addition, to merely stand there at quite possibly the most westerly point of Europe is awesome in itself! Visions of pirates or ancient marauders surrounding the cliffs, seeking a hornet's nest, the cliff's face and nooks and crannies being eked out, for some vantage point to come ashore, spring to mind and send the thinker into overdrive; visions like a scene from an Errol Flynn film or an ancient equivalent of Pirates of the Caribbean - renaming it "Pirates of the Atlantic" - and the descriptions in the annals and mythology of the sea pirates called the Fomorians come to mind; visions of the mythical "Tir na Nog" (the land of eternal youth), all break out of the shell of legend as through the Atlantic squalls and the Aran Island's mists! Dun Aengus Promontory Fort is a hill fort with a difference.

PS For the definitive and authoritative guide to megalithic and archaeological monuments in Ireland:

Pre-Christian Ireland by Professor Peter Harbison is recommended;

And in addition The Stones of Time by Martin Brennan;

www.stonepages.com


 
                                                   

"Havens of peace"

Gobnait and the Bee

About one mile south of the Gaeltacht village of Ballyvourney in West Cork, then turning left, and veering around to a remote fastness, near the hub of the Lee Valley, is to be found the rustic and idyllic site of Saint Gobnait's - such a haven of peace that it almost feels like one has entered the domain of the dove and that one is resting on the palm of the creator of the universe when first the world began! And so I went with open heart and serene soul to this refuge of solitude; for the mystique of that holy woman, Gobnait - christianised by the church - so similiar to Brigid, and the lure and reverence for the bee, bade me come hither, as if drawn by a powerful magnet as powerful as a wave whose buoyant crest ceases not its joyous sway!

Statue of Saint Gobnait

The bee and deer carvings

As seen from the other side; with bee, bell, psalter

 The site has a number of things of interest: directly across from the Abbey and graveyard is a small holy well called Saint Abban's and a most striking sculpture of Gobnait; with the iconographic imagery of the bee (whose patroness was Gobnait), the bell, the book or psalter and the deer! According to the legend, she was directed by an angel in a dream, to leave her home in Clare, and venture forth like a white peregrine, not declaring a truce with her wanderings and odyssey, until seeing nine deer. This is the first thing that struck me; the deer, features very much in Gaelic and pagan chronicles and I wonder could it be borrowed from them, and hence be a metaphor for something else, rather than a literal anecdote. For instance, Oisin translated, literally means little deer, and some interpret the story of Oisin (myself included), as possibly some sort of figurative allusion to shape shifting, to which belief, prechristians and pagans would have adhered. Additionally, the prayer of Saint Patrick "Saint Patrick's Breastplate" is, interestingly also known as "The Deer's cry". Could this herein be a parable for us surrendering to our dreams and following the 'deer' of innocence to wherever destiny bids us to go?

Saint Gobnait's Grave, Abbey and Churchyard with the Lee Valley in the background

Inside the graveyard and abbey, there are a number of curiosities: there is the grave of Gobnait, which has a mound, upon which is a white sculpture with references and symbolism of the snake. This I failed to see; hence, it would seem as with other places and other times, I have to return, to finish unfinished business, like when one is filling in a hole, but decides not to fully fill it in but leave it part empty for future endeavours. The main area here is the old Abbey; carved into a lintel above the right window, is to be found a Sheela-na-Gig. This doesn't seem incongrous, in the least, given Gobnait's pagan/sacred feminine persona, which lingers under the surface like a deep pulsing vein beneath the skin and flesh. For with some of the stories about Gobnait, it seems she was a doyen of fertility for the blooming blossom of progress and evolution; there is the story of how, when the place was threatened by a plague, she marked out the area with a stick, and it was miraculously saved!  Perhaps true but it could also again be an allegory - this time for dowsing the land for its miraculous properties or esoterically infusing the land with energies and leylines!?

Sheela-na-Gig above the east lintel; demonstrating the multitiered aspects of the place.

Almost climbing up to it!

 Just down from the abbey grounds and graveyard, through a mystical arched entrance - a bit like rolling an almond through an alcove, one will stumble upon Gobnait's Holy Well. This is a beautiful well, with the middle step perfectly aligned in a hollow, in which to kneel down, as if some mystical craftsperson had carved it like a mat, to take the contour and shape of the pilgrim's knees with the finest precision; the water volume is like a vessel whose liquid bounty is an incandescent blowtorch whose taste and freshness is as fresh as a river when first it flows. And there is a tranquility particularly around here which makes it a prime candidate for the haven of peace in an oasis of delight; the doves fly around in the secret channels of mirth.

Tranquil sereneness by Gobnait's Well

In reprise

Gobnait's Well with middle step into which one can kneel

 GOBNAIT, THE BEE AND ITS HISTORY OF HEALING

It's narrated that Gobnait was the patroness of the bee - a beekeeper - who had some mystical connection with the bee and according to tradition, saved cattle from marauding raiders, by sending the bees out - radar-like - to chase the would be thieves away! There is also a tradition of people being healed here through the winsome honey mead of the bees! Clearly, this was a special place - a chosen place - what with its strategic positioning as a sanctuary, the importance and reverence accorded to the bee, the tradition of healing, the story of the land being cut off - quarantined so to speak - to remain unblemished and free from the ravages of the plague; then, additionally, the fact that there is another spring nearby, which means that there are up to three wells in close proximity. (Interestingly, when around this part, I had a strange sense of bees buzzing in my eardrums, and there was a tingling inside my ears, as if some small army were marching in my eardrums!)

The site of Saint Gobnait's, Ballyvourney, is a real refuge off the beaten track; it is a haven of peace where the pilgrim and nature seem to enter a symbiotic relationship heretofore nonexistent. It's as if the veil between the two worlds has opened - the two worlds that connect the human make up - the masculine and the feminine, and this harmonious interconnectedness is ably reflected by the cosmic clamour of the bee and Gobnait's mystical antennae. This is a sanctuary where many sanctuaries exist; it is a prime mover of relaxation!  See it and be at ease with life.

Ruined house beyond the graveyard. At the side of the base of the Celtic Cross in the middle, there is an interesting celtic design.

 PS There are also supposed to be Bullaun Stones in the graveyard 'though I didn't see them.

Directions:

From Macroom, County Cork travel west on the N22 towards Kerry. Go through Baile Mhic Ire (Ballymakerry) and after the church and school on your right take the next left turn signposted. About 400 metres down here you will come to the first holy well. Take the next right for the Church.