Many saints in old time used to come and take up their abode in the wild desolate Western Islands for the rest and sanctity of solitude, and innumerable evidences of their presence still remain in the ancient ruins of the so-called cells or churches built in the rudest form, but always placed in a picturesque locality beside a well, which ever since has been held sacred, and no woman is allowed to wash her feet in the water.
In one of these islands is a stone bed called “The Bed of the Holy Ghost,” and many people go from the mainland to lie a night in this bed, though the sea is always rough and dangerous, believing that it heals all diseases, and it brings good luck to all, and to women the blessing of children.
If the lark sings on St. Bridget’s Day it is a good omen, and a sign of fine weather. And whoever hears it the first thing in the morning will have good luck in all he does for that whole day. St. Bridget was granted by the Lord to have every second Sunday fine so that she might preach to the converts that came to her.
Then St. Patrick greatly desired that his day should also be fine so that the people might gather together in remembrance of him, and this also was granted. So from that time forth the Saints’ Day, the 17th of March, is always fine, for so it was decreed from the ancient times when he was upon earth.
On St. Patrick’s Day it is the usage in the islands to affix large crosses made of straw and flowers on the door-posts, and a black cock is sacrificed in honour of the saint, though no one can tell why it is considered necessary that blood should be spilt, except that the idea of sacrifice is found in all religions and rituals of worship. At first the object most loved or most prized was sacrificed—a child, or a costly jewel. Then the human sacrifice began to be replaced by the offering of an animal, who was made the medium of expiation. And the god was satisfied so that blood was spilled to purify from sin.
It is remarkable that relics of this ancient ritual of sacrifice canstill be found even in the enlightened households of this advanced nineteenth century. An ox is still slaughtered at Christmas, though Baal is forgotten; and a lamb is sacrificed at Easter, as the Druids offered the firstlings of the flock to the Sun-god; while a goose is slain on St. Michael’s Day as a burnt-offering to the saint.
When St. Patrick was one time amongst the Pagan Irish they grew very fierce and seemed eager to kill him. Then his life being in great danger, he kneeled down before them and prayed to God for help and for the conversion of their souls. And the fervour of the prayer was so great that as the saint rose up the mark of his knees was left deep in the stone, and when the people saw the miracle they believed.
Now when he came to the next village the people said if he performed some wonder for them they also would believe and pray to his God. So St. Patrick drew a great circle on the ground and bade them stand outside it; and then he prayed, and lo! the water rushed up from the earth, and a well pure and bright as crystal filled the circle. And the people believed and were baptized.
The well can be seen to this day, and is calledTober-na-Lauer(The Well of the Book), because St. Patrick placed his own prayer-book in the centre of the circle before the water rose.
There is a lake in one of the Galtee mountains where there is a great serpent chained to a rock, and he may be heard constantly crying out, “O Patrick, is theLuan, or Monday, long from us?” For when St. Patrick cast this serpent into the lake he bade him be chained to the rock tillLa-an-Luan(The Day of Judgment). But the serpent mistook the word, and thought the saint meantLuan, Monday.
So he still expects to be freed from one Monday to another, and the clanking of his chains on that day is awful to hear as he strives to break them and get free.
In another lake there is a huge-winged creature, it is said, which escaped the power of St. Patrick, and when he gambols in the water such storms arise that no boat can withstand the tumult of the waves.
One day the two daughters of the King of Meath, named Ethna and Fedalma, went down to the river to bathe, and there they beheld St. Patrick and his band of converts all draped in white robes, for they were celebrating morning prayers. And the princesses seeing strange men in white garments thought they were of the race of the male fairies, theDaine-Sidhe. And they questioned them. Then St. Patrick expounded the truth to them, and the maidens asked him many questions: “Who is your God? Is He Handsome? Are His daughters as handsome as we are? Is He rich? Is He young or aged? Is He to die, or does He live for ever?”
Now St. Patrick having satisfied them on all these points the maidens, Ethna and Fedalma, were baptized, and became zealous workers for the Christian cause.
St. Patrick went on to Tara, and there he lit the Paschal fire and celebrated the Easter mysteries. But the Druids were wroth, for it was against their ordinances for any fire to be lit until the chief Druid himself had kindled the sacred fire. Therefore they sought to poison St. Patrick, and a cupful of poison was given him by one of the Druids; but the danger was revealed to him, and thereupon he pronounced certain words over the liquor, and whoever pronounceth these words over poison shall receive no injury from it. He also then composed the prayer, “In nomine Dei Patris,” and recited it over the cup of poison.
The number of companions with whom St. Patrick travelled through the country was seven score and ten, and before his time only three classes of persons were allowed to speak in public in Erin—the chronicler, to relate events; the poet, to eulogize and satirize; and the Brehon, to pass judgment according to the law. But after St. Patrick’s arrival every utterance of the three professions was subject to “the men of the white language”—that is, the Gospel—and only such utterances were allowed as did not clash with the Gospel.
In ancient Pagan times in Ireland the poets were supposed to possess the gift of prophecy, and by certain means could throwthemselves into a state in which they had lucid vision of coming events. This state, calledImbas for Osna, was produced by incantations and the offering of the flesh of a red pig, a dog, or a cat to their idols. Then the poet, laying the two palms of his hands on his two cheeks, lay down and slept; his idol gods being beside him. And when he awoke he could see all things and foretell all things. He could make verses with the ends of his fingers, and repeat the same without studying, and in this way proved his right to be chief poet at the court of the king. Also he laid his staff upon the head of a person, and thus he found out his name, and the name of his father and mother, and all unknown things that were proposed to him. And this prophetic power was also obtained byImbas for Osna, though a different kind of offering was made to the idol.
But Patrick abolished these practices, and declared that whoever used them should enjoy neither heaven nor earth; and he substituted for them theCorus Cerda(the Law of Poetry), in which no offering was made to demons; for the profession of the poet, he said, was pure, and should not be subject to the power of the devil. He left to the poets, however, the gift of extemporaneous recital, because it was acquired through great knowledge and diligent study, but all other rites he strictly forbade to the poets of Erin.
As a proof of the magnetic, lucid vision obtained by the great ollamhs of poetry, it is recorded of the blind poet, Louad Dall, that his attendants having brought him the skull of an animal found upon the strand, they asked him to declare its history. And thereupon placing the end of his wand upon the skull, he beheld with the inner vision, and said—
“The tempestuous waters have destroyed Breccan, and this is the skull of his lapdog; and but little of greatness now remains, for Breccan and his people have perished in the waves.”
And this was “divination by the staff”—a power possessed only by the chief poets, and by none else.
The story of Breccan is related in Cormac’s Glossary. He was a merchant who traded between Ireland and Scotland with fifty corracles. Now there was a great whirlpool at Rathlin Island caused by the meeting of the seas, and they formed a caldron vast enough to swallow all Ireland. And it happened on a timethat Breccan and all his corracles were lost and engulfed in this caldron. Not a man was left to tell the tale of how or where they had perished. Thus it was that the skull of a small animal being discovered on the beach, it was brought to the blind poet, who laying his staff on it obtained the inner vision by which he revealed the fate of Breccan and his fifty corracles.
Now St. Patrick left the poets all their rights of divination by wisdom, and all their ancient rights over story-telling with the music of the harp, three hundred and fifty stories being allowed to the chief poet. He also secured just judgments for their professional rights; so that if land was mentioned in their songs as having been walled and trenched by them, that was considered to be sufficient legal evidence of title to the soil.
But what they received of St. Patrick was better, he affirmed, than all the evil rites to devils which they had abandoned; along with the profane practice of magic by the two palms, calledImbas for Osna, by which lucid vision and the spirit of prophecy was supposed to come on them after invocations to idols and demons—all of which evil practices St. Patrick abolished, but left to the poets the skilled hand in music and the fluent tongue in recitation; for which none can equal the Bards of Ireland throughout all the world.
The ogham writing on the poet’s staff is mentioned in very old manuscripts as in use in the Pagan period, before St. Patrick’s time, though no specimen of ogham writing has yet been found of earlier date than the Christian era.
St. Patrick introduced Latin and the Latin letters, which superseded ogham. And after his time Latin was taught very generally in the Irish schools.
St. Patrick also confirmed as right and proper for observance, whatever was just in the Brehon laws, so as it was not at variance with the law of Christ, for the people had been guided by the Brehon laws from all antiquity, and it was not easy to overthrow them. Besides, many or most of them were framed with strict regard to justice and morality.
When St. Patrick was dying, an angel of the Lord was sent to him, who announced to the great and holy saint that God had granted this favour to his prayers—namely, that his jurisdiction over the Church was ordained to be for ever at Armagh; and that Patrick, as the Apostle of Ireland, should be the judge of all the Irish at the last day, and none other, according to the promisemade to the other apostles, “Ye shall sit upon twelve thrones judging the tribes of Israel.”
This eminent saint died at the early age of thirty-three; and it is said that his death was caused by the prayers of the other saints of Ireland, who were jealous of his power and fame for sanctity. St. Ciaron knowing that death was coming upon him, composed a verse which has been preserved as an appeal against the cruel fate that ended his life while he was yet in his prime. And the pathos of the quatrain is very tender and natural—
“I ask is it right, O King of Stars,To reap a cornfield before it is ripe?It is eating fruit before the time,It is plucking the blossom from a hazel when it is white.”
“I ask is it right, O King of Stars,To reap a cornfield before it is ripe?It is eating fruit before the time,It is plucking the blossom from a hazel when it is white.”
“I ask is it right, O King of Stars,To reap a cornfield before it is ripe?It is eating fruit before the time,It is plucking the blossom from a hazel when it is white.”
“I ask is it right, O King of Stars,
To reap a cornfield before it is ripe?
It is eating fruit before the time,
It is plucking the blossom from a hazel when it is white.”
St. Martin was a bad man before his conversion, and, above all, was exceedingly close-fisted, as they say, to the poor; giving nothing and grasping all. So he was very rich but hated by every one.
One day, when going out, he charged the servant to have a fine batch of loaves ready made and baked by the time he returned. While she was kneading the dough in came a poor man and begged for some as he was hungry; but she told him she dare not give away anything or the master would beat her. Still the poor man begged the harder, and at last she gave him dough enough for a couple of loaves. However, when the girl’s back was turned, he threw the dough into the oven and went his way without a word.
Now when the dough was ready, the girl opened the oven to put in the loaves, but, behold, it was already quite full of baked bread, and would hold no more. So when Martin came home she told him all the truth; and his heart smote him, and he cried out, “An Angel of the Lord has been here; God has sent His messenger to rebuke me of my sins!” And he ran out to search for the man along the road, and at last saw him a great way off. Then Martin flung off his coat that he might run the faster; and when he came up to the man he fell onhis knees before him on the ground, and cried out, “Oh, my Lord, I repent me of my sins; pray to God for me, for I know you are His angel.” And from that moment Martin’s heart was changed, and the devil left him; and he became a true saint and servant of God, and, above all, the saint and patron of the poor.
Nevertheless, St. Bridget was offended with St. Martin, because she thought he did not receive her with sufficient hospitality and consideration. Perhaps some of the old stinginess of nature still clung to him. And she thus pronounced her malediction over him—
“Oh, little man, the sea-wave shall come up over thy house, and thy name shall lie in ashes, while my name and fame shall be glorious all over the world.”
And this was fulfilled; for the sea actually broke in and covered the saint’s dwelling; and the house of St. Martin can still be seen low down beneath the waves, but if any one tries to reach it the house fades away into the mist and is seen no more.
There is an old superstition still observed by the people, that blood must be spilt on St. Martin’s Day; so a goose is killed, or a black cock, and the blood is sprinkled over the floor and on the threshold. And some of the flesh is given to the first beggar that comes by, in the name and in honour of St. Martin.
In the Arran Isles St. Martin’s Day is observed with particular solemnity, and it was held necessary, from ancient times, to spill blood on the ground in honour of the saint. For this purpose a cock was sacrificed; but if such could not be procured people have been known to cut their finger in order to draw blood, and let it fall upon the earth. The custom arose in this way:—St. Martin, having given away all his goods to the poor, was often in want of food, and one day he entered a widow’s house and begged for something to eat. The widow was poor, and having no food in the house, she sacrificed her young child, boiled it, and set it before the saint for supper. Having eaten, and taken his departure, the woman went over to the cradle to weep for her lost child; when lo! there he was, lying whole and well, in a beautiful sleep, as if no evil had ever happened to him; and to commemorate this miracle and from gratitude to the saint, a sacrifice of some living thing is made yearly in his honour. The blood is poured or sprinkled on the ground, and along the door-posts, and both within and without the threshold, and at the four corners of each room in the house.
For this symbol of purification by blood the rich farmers sacrifice a sheep; while the poorer people kill a black cock or a white hen, and sprinkle the blood according to ancient usage. Afterwards the whole family dine upon the sacrificial victim.
In some places it was the custom for the master of the house to draw a cross on the arm of each member of the family and mark it out in blood. This was a very sacred sign which no fairy orevil spirit, were they ever so strong, could overcome; and whoever was signed with the blood was safe.
There is a singular superstition forbidding work of a certain kind to be done on St. Martin’s Day, the 11th of November. No woman should spin on that day; no miller should grind his corn, and no wheel should be turned. And this custom was long held sacred, and is still observed in the Western Islands.
At one time a certain leper came to St. Bridget to beg a cow from her.
“Which would you prefer?” said the holy Bridget, “to be healed of your disease or to have the cow?”
“I would be healed,” he answered.
Then she touched him, and he became whole and went away rejoicing.
After this Bridget’s fame spread all over Ireland; and a man of the Britons, and his son, came to be healed; but she was at Mass, and sent to them to wait till Mass was over.
Now the Britons are a hasty people, and the man said, “You healed your own people yesterday and you shall heal us to-day.”
Then Bridget came forth and prayed over them, and they were healed.
Another time, two lepers came to beg, and Bridget said, “I have but this one cow—take it between you and go in peace.”
But one leper was proud, and made answer: “I shall divide my goods with no man. Give me the cow and I shall go.”
And she gave it to him.
Then the other leper said, “Give me your prayers, holy Bridget, I ask no more.”
And she gave him her blessing. And as he turned to depart a man came in, and offered a cow as a present to the holy woman.
“Now the Lord has blessed you,” she said to the humble leper. “Take this cow and depart to your home.”
So the man drove the cow before him, and presently came up with the proud leper just at the ford of the river. “Cross you first,” said the proud leper, “there is not room for two,” and the humble leper crossed in safety with his cow; but when the other entered the ford, the river rose, and he and his cow were carried away and drowned, for the blessing of St. Bridget was not on him.
Another time, two lepers came to be healed, and Bridget ordered one of them to wash the other; which he did, and the man was healed.
“Now,” she said, “do to your comrade as he has done to you; wash him with water that he may be made clean of his leprosy.”
“Oh, veiled woman,” he answered, “why should I, that am clean now in body and limb, touch this filthy leper of the blue-grey skin? Ask me not to do this thing.”
Then Bridget took water and washed the leper herself. Immediately the other who had been healed, cried out, “A fire is raging under my skin;” and the disease came again on him worse than ever. Thus was he punished for his pride.
The lark is sacred to St. Bridget because its song woke her every morning to prayers, when she had service for the women who were her converts.
The influence of St. Bridget remains a permanent power in Ireland even to this day, and she is much feared by the enemy of souls and the ill-doer. When Earl Strongbow was dying, he affirmed that he saw St. Bridget approaching his bed, and she struck him on the foot, and the wound she gave him mortified, and of this he died. This happened six hundred years after Bridget’s death.
St. Bridget, throughout her long life, held the highest position and dignity in the Irish Church. She erected a temple in Kildare, ordained bishops, and was head and chief of all the sacred virgins.
She also held equal rank with the archbishop; if he had an episcopal chair (cathedra episcopalis), so St. Bridget had a virginal chair (cathedra puellaris), and was pre-eminent above all the abbesses of Ireland, or of the Scots, for sanctity and power.
St. Kieran, also, did good service five hundred years after his death; for when a great chief and his band plundered Clonmacnoise and carried off the jewels from the shrine, the spirit of St. Kieran was seen in the doorway, crosier in hand, striking at the plunderers; and when they fled to their boat, St. Kieran raised up a strong wind that drove back the boat, and finally the chief robber was taken and put to death, having first confessed his crime, and testified as to St. Kieran’s wrath against him.
It is related of St. Kevin that after he had been seven years at Glendalough, a weariness of life came over him, and a longing tohear the voice of man once more. Then Satan came to him in the form of an angel, bright and beautiful, and persuaded him that he should quit the valley and travel abroad and see the world, while yet his youth was left to him. And St. Kevin was near yielding to the words of the tempter, when fortunately St. Munna came by that way, and he at once saw through the trick, and showed to St. Kevin that the advice was from the devil, and not from God. And St. Kevin promised St. Munna that he would never leave the valley till his death. However, God, not willing that the saint should eat his heart away in idleness, bade him build a monastery on the east of the lake, the place where the resurrection was to be; and he sent his angel to show him the exact spot.
But St. Kevin, when he saw the place so wild and rude, could not help telling the friendly angel that it was very rugged and difficult to build on; and the stones were heavy and hard to be moved. Then the angel, to prevent any difficulty in the building, rendered the stones light and easy to move, and so the work of building went on to the glory of God; and St. Kevin rejoiced in the task set before him.
And the monk who tells the story adds, that from that day in all the place which the angel appointed for the building, there is now no stone that cannot be lightly moved and easily worked all through the valley of Glendalough.
The Round Tower of Clonmacnoise was never finished, for the monks objected to the price demanded by the chief mason; and one day that he was at the top of the tower, they said he should never come down till he lowered the price; and they removed the scaffolding.
Then he said, “It is easier to pull down than to build a tower,” and he began to cast down stone by stone, so that he could descend in safety.
On this the monks grew alarmed, and prayed him to desist and the price should be paid; so he came down at their request, but would never again lay hand to the work, so the tower remains unfinished to this day.
The first bells ever used in all Ireland were hung at Clonmacnoise, but the people of Athlone, being jealous, came at night to steal the bells, and succeeded in carrying them away in a boat. However, before they got out of sight of the church, the boat went down, and the bells were never recovered, though the river was dragged from Athlone to Shannon Bridge.
At the seven churches of Clonmacnoise is to be seen the great cross of St. Kieran, beautifully carved of a stone not common to the country, called the Grecian stone, and if a woman can clasp the cross round with her arms she will never die in childbirth.
At a pattern held there one time, a soldier from Athlone shot off the hand of a figure of St. Kieran, which was over the grand entrance, but returning home he fell from the boat, and was drowned in the very spot where the bells went down a hundred years before.
At Saints’ Island, in the Shannon, the ruins of a monastery, which was destroyed by King John, may still be seen. When the monks, broken-hearted and beggared, were leaving their beautiful home, one of them kneeled down and prayed to God for forgiveness of his enemies. Immediately a well of pure water sprang up where the monk had knelt; and the water even to this day is held by the people to have the power to cure all diseases, if the soul of the patient, as he drinks of the well, is free from all malice and the desire of revenge upon those who may have injured him.
In the old churchyard of the monastery at Saints’ Island, there is an ancient black marble flagstone; and the monks gave it power asA Revealer of Truth, and it is called theCremave, or Swearing Stone.
Any one suspected of sin or crime is brought here from the country round, and if the accused swears falsely, the stone has the power to set a mark upon him and his race for seven generations. But if no mark appears then he is known to be innocent; and as long as the world lasts, the stone is to have this power, for so the monks decreed; and with many holy and mystic ceremonies they gave it consecration, as the “Revealer of Truth.” And though the English burned the monastery and defaced the altar and carried off the holy vessels, yet they had no power over the Cremave, or Swearing Stone, which remains to this day.
Many years ago, so runs the tale, a murder was committed in the neighbourhood, and a certain man being suspected as the murderer, he was forced to go to the “clearing stone”; for the people said, “If he is innocent, the Cremave will clear him; and if guilty, let him suffer for his crime.”
So, on the appointed day, he went with his friends and theaccuser to the Swearing Stone; and there he was met by the priest, who adjured him to speak the truth in presence of all the people and before the face of God.
The man laid his hand upon the stone, and solemnly swore that he was innocent; but instantly his right arm was shrivelled up, his feet failed, and he was carried home a miserable cripple, and so remained to the end of his life.
Some weeks after a daughter was born to him, who bore across her forehead the impress of a bloody hand; and every one of his descendants have some strange mark, by which the people know that the race is accursed to the seventh generation; after which time the doom will be lifted, and the expiation made for the crime and the perjury will be considered sufficient by the Lord in heaven, who will then grant to the race pardon and grace at last.
Another relic held in reverence for swearing on by an accused person is St. Finian’s Dish. This was found about one hundred and fifty years ago, buried in the ruins of an old abbey. It is of silver with stones set in it, which, the people say, are the eyes of Christ looking at them while they swear. And when the dish is shaken a rattling noise is heard, which they believe is made by the Virgin Mary’s bones that are enclosed therein.
Should a false oath be taken on the relic, the perjurer will at once be stricken by disease, and die before the year is out. And so great is the terror inspired by this belief, that men have fainted from fear when brought up to swear on it. This is done by placing the hand on the cross that is engraved in the centre of the dish, while the two eyes of Christ are fixed on the swearer who comes for clearance from guilt.
TheGhar-Barra, or Crosier of St. Barry, is also a holy relic once overlaid with gold, on which it was the custom to take a clearing oath; as the people held it in great reverence, and nothing was more dreaded than the consequence of a false oath on theGhar-Barra. Once a man who swore falsely thereon had his mouth turned awry, and it so remained to his life’s end, a proof of the saint’s hatred for the sin of perjury. The relic is kept covered carefully with green cloth, and whoever is brought to take a clearing oath thereon must first lay down a small piece of silver for the guardian of the shrine.
At Innis-Murry, Sligo, there is a large table-stone supported on eight perpendicular stones as a pedestal. And on the table are seventy-three stones, from five to twenty inches in circumference, which have been lying there from the most ancient times; for to remove them would be at the peril of one’s life.
On these seventy-three stones all the anathematic spirit of the island is concentrated. If the islanders suffer any injury, real or supposed, they come and turn these stones, uttering a malediction over their enemy, and should he be guilty he will assuredly die, or suffer some calamity before the year is out.
A Scripture reader, having boldly taken away one of these stones to show the folly of the superstition, was obliged to restore it and to quit the island, or his life would not have been safe.
There is another stone on the island where alone can fires be lighted, should all the domestic fires become extinct, and the spark must be struck from the stone itself.
Innis-Murry is a desolate spot, rarely visited; the approach is so dangerous on account of the sunken rocks. The crops are scanty, and the soil is poor and light, growing only a short herbage of a spiral and sharp kind. Neither scythe nor sickle could be used in the entire island. Meal is unknown, and dairy produce scarcely to be had, as the grass can only support a few sheep; but the islanders have fish in abundance, crabs, lobsters, and mackerel especially.
A traveller, who visited the island about fifty years ago, describes the manners and mode of living as most primitive; but the women have the reputation of being exceedingly virtuous, and the households are happy and well conducted. At that time a rude stone image was venerated by the people, called “Father Molosh,” but supposed to be an ancient pagan idol, probably Moloch. The priest, however, has since had it destroyed.