Ella Young in the Brugh of Angus ~ commonly known as Newgrange

Irish poet, mystic and folklorist, Ella Young (1867 – 1956) wrote in her memoirs Flowering Dusk... (1945) about an experience she had, on her own, inside what she names as "the Brugh of Angus" and what is commonly called Newgrange in County Meath.  The date of this visit is not given but Ella left Ireland, never to return, in 1925.

Image by Denise Sallee, ©2009

In her chapter entitled "Cave of the Red Steeds" she recounts her lengthy stay in a farmhouse near Cong, County Mayo, and entering a natural cave with many chambers where she remained for some time. 

"My thoughts went back to another silence—silence and darkness in the Brugh of Angus, the artificial chambered mound at Newgrange by the Boyne. I sat alone in the Central Chamber of the Brugh (having bribed the custodian to absent herself and her candles). The roof arched above me in blackness and there was great silence about me, penetrated by the chill joyousness of the Brugh. Suddenly, I became aware that the Chamber was filling with pale light that surged like water through the narrow tortuous entrance passage. Like water, it seemed to have weight and substance. Washed by this pale liquid slow-moving light the pillar-stone of the Brugh suddenly flamed silver, shot up like a column of moon-fire. The Sun, journeying westward, had touched it with an out-stretched finger.

Ella Young goes on to compare the cave in Cong and the Brugh in Meath—noting that "the Brugh of Angus had been carefully fashioned. The Ultonian* kings paid honour to it, and at the Samhain Festival processions wound among the standing stones that still, in broken formation, circle the mound. Fire leaped on the summit. Five great roads converged on it."
* A native or inhabitant of Ulster

My Lady of Dreams

A moment's pause in an ever darkening world...

Lughnassa ~ The Marriage Feast of Lugh

Detail Setanta Wall (Dublin, 1974) by Desmond Kinney: Photo by  Bob Phillips

The Marriage Feast of Lugh celebrated each August in Ireland is mentioned several times by Ella Young in her memoir Flowering Dusk: Things Remembered Accurately and Inaccurately (1945).

She begins by recalling events involving the nationalist political group in which she was active -  The Daughters of Ireland (Inghinidhe na hÉireann) 

"That night the little room in a back street of Dublin city - where the Daughters of Ireland were celebrating the Lughnassa, the Marriage Feast of Lugh the Sun God to the Royal Sovereignty of Ireland..."  Earlier that day, Ella was climbing Slieve Gullion with her friend Phyllis MacMurdo who Ella greatly admired. They discussed the old tales and the old gods and Phyllis declared "Let us gather heather, white and red, and go tonight to the play that the Daughters of Ireland are putting on  (Red Hugh's Captivity by Alice Mulligan...)."

Another reference to the Marriage Feast of Lugh in Ella Young's memoir is also when she writes about the activities of the Daughters of Ireland:  "Since we are reviving everything at once, we pay attention to the ancient Festivals. There are four which divide the year into periods of three months: the Festival of Brigit, the Pure Perpetual Ashless Flalme, in February; the Festival of Beltane, the coming of the young Gods who succor the Earth, in May; the Marriage-Feastival of Lugh, the Sun, who weds the Sovereignty of Erin in August; the Festival of Samhain, that opens the Inner World, in November."

In a section Ella titles "The Royal Sovereignty of Ireland, 1922"

From: Irish Civil War – essential facts

she writes about the beginning of the civil war. It is June 28 and she is in Dublin where the "guns boomed day and night" and she looked toward the Four Courts and spoke about the men there as the smoke rose and the "ground muttered and shook... a hundred good fighting men...were prisoners in Mountjoy [prison]...They held out for five days, and surrendered only when the walls fell in and flame licked about their feet...Like fire the civil war spurts and rages from town to town, from countryside to countryside. The Feast of the Lughnassa draws on. Fires were lit on the sacred hills of Ireland at this Festival in token that Lugh the Sun-God was wedded to the Royal Sovereignty of Ireland. Those were joy-fires: our fires hiss and flicker with blood."

Lugh was associated with sovereignty because he represented sacred kingship. The marriage feast  - or Great Rite - is the act of the named king asking of the land he is to reign, permission to rule. The land is represented by the goddess, who through sexual union with the king, gifts him with this sovereignty. This is such a powerful act and such a powerful image. Ella Young and her many comrades fought for this sovereignty - for the land, for ancient and sacred Ireland to regain what had been lost. There is no doubt that the English crown was never given sovereignty by the land - by the goddess who embodies all of Ireland and her people.

Tawnylust Lodge & the North Leitrim Adventures

Several years ago,  I was fortunate to find myself living for a year in the wild and woolly hills of North Leitrim, Ireland.  This month I returned there, taking my daughter and her husband.  We stayed at Nuala McNulty's self-catering apartment Tawnylust Lodge - the exact spot where I lived for the first four months of my year-long residency.  I could not have chosen a better spot to nest and to fall in love with the best-kept secret in all of Ireland!

No matter which direction you look from Tawnylust Lodge the view is spectacular ~ 

The apartment has a patio and a large picture window - the perfect vista for daydreaming.

You are surrounded by green pasture land, and stunning hills.  The sky provides an endless and changing panorama.  Truly, a feast for the eyes and solace for the busy mind.

There is so much to explore in this area and Tawnylust Lodge is the perfect home base!

Fowley's Falls near Rossinver is a lovely walk through the woods.  The nearby Organic Centre is the perfect stop for tea or lunch and a look around. Pick up some healthy food and fix a meal in your self-catering apartment at Tawnylust Lodge. 

Everywhere - under the trees, behind an ancient rock, - nature reminds us all of what is truly important in life and allows us the chance to reconnect and nourish our heart and our soul. 

The nearby town of Manorhamilton, with its impressive castle, great pubs and a cafe is well worth a look. Just outside the town is a wonderful forest area, Milltown Woods, with a picnic area and easily accessible walks along the Bonet River.

Sligo, located not far from Manorhamilton, is a bustling and fun town.  The Garavogue River is the heart of this town which reaches toward the Atlantic Ocean.  It was also a favorite haunt of W.B. Yeats who gained much of his inspiration in and around this area.

Surf's up!  Just outside of Sligo is Strandhill which offers an open vista of the Atlantic and the surrounding hills.  And, yes, you can surf from here. For a more relaxing time, soak yourself in a warm seaweed bath while you listen to the waves and unwind at VOYA Seaweed Baths.  I've soaked there three times and brought a few visiting friends. It is a wonderful healing experience.

One of my very favorite spots near Sligo is Carrowmore ~ "home to the largest and oldest collection of stone circles and dolmens known from neolithic Ireland."  The perfect blend of our very earliest history and our mythology. 

At the end of a day's adventures Tawnylust Lodge is the ideal home to return to!

Photograph copyright Nuala McNulty



NOTE:  Unless otherwise noted, all images are by Denise Sallee, All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Ancestral lands: Trim and the Boyne River

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Walking among my ancestors along the banks of the Boyne River in May.  Exploring, imagining and conjuring up my mythic and historic past. In the dark of winter 1996 I came to Trim at the end of my first sojourn in Ireland. I was tired and ready to return home. From Kildare I had driven to Trim and checked into Brogan's, a room above the pub. Here, I told myself, I would spend my last few days in quiet, recouping somewhat from what had come before.  And, preparing myself for re-entry into what I believed then was the real world that waited for me in California.

Then I met Bóinn ~ the Irish goddess of the River Boyne. She spoke, I listened, and was forever changed. 

Trim and the river have been a central part of every trip to Ireland since that time.  Even when I lived for one incredible year in North Leitrim, I spent time on the Boyne.

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Very recently I returned to Ireland after nearly nine years.  I decided to wait until my last four days to go to Trim and again I took a room over the pub at Brogan's.  I spent many hours each day walking the banks of the Boyne - usually very early in the morning or at twilight. This time, however, I had knowledge of ancestors who had walked as I did along the river. The family, Anglo-Normans from Wales, were in Meath as early as 1200 and closely associated with the de Lacy and Mortimer families. So now I communed with Bóinn and with my ancient ancestors.  Trim castle, situated along her banks, held deeper meaning for me now.

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Trim is a portal to the past.  The castle, the ruins of the old abbey and many other locations evoke a powerful sense of history. 

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

And, there will always be the river....

Image by Denise Sallee. All Rights Reserved, 2019.

My Wild Irish Rose

A young woman leaves her parent's home to move to a small home with her newly wedded husband. She brings with her a cutting from the wild rose that has always grown in the hedge along her mother's garden. It is bright and pink and the young woman knows, that when it takes root and grows, it will link her forever with her mother and the land on which she was born. And the rose does take root and it grows along the fence between their fields and her garden. In the summer it spreads along the fence and blooms and lights up that small corner of their land. And then babies are born - one after another until her husband builds his family a new home, a bit bigger, and his wife, not as young as she was, takes a cutting from the wild rose and plants it in what will become her new garden in her new home. In this way she will always be rooted to that spot of earth. Then one year a stranger comes from far across the sea and she asks if she can live in the home that they outgrew and they said yes and when she moved in it was March and the bad winter still lay frozen across the old garden. The plants were so stricken by the deep frost of the winter that the new woman from across the sea was not even sure if they were alive. So she bought shiny new pruning shears and began to gently cutaway the most damaged branches. And then she waited. And then the sun came and the warm rain of spring and then branches grew and reached out along the fence between the garden and the fields until one day, in late June, the new woman saw the new flower buds - masses and masses of them - all over the fence. And she knew and she understood the land was still alive, the heart was pumping again, and life returned. The wild Irish rose, who had blessed the young woman's childhood home, and then her own children's home, now welcomed the stranger from across the sea.

Mass Rocks and Hedge Schools

The English, in their many attempts to destroy traditional Irish culture, enacted the Penal Laws of 1702-1719. In these laws it was stated that Catholics could no longer gather together in celebration of mass. What came from this attempt at religious suppression was the formation of secretive meetings under the protection of dense forests where a suitable large rock became the priest's altar. What the law actually accomplished was returning people to the land for their worship - for what greater cathedral is there than tall trees whose deep roots penetrate the belly of the earth and whose branches reach high toward the sky? Alive with the elementals the people of Ireland must have, once again, felt the sacredness and power of their land. Another part of the Penal Laws was the outlawing of Catholic teachers. The English created their own schools where only English was spoken and the old stories were banned. Hedge Schools sprang up - often taught by the revered Brehons - and the Irish language, history, and ancient stories were taught. This is the life-blood of a culture and must never be lost.

Returning to the Fold

Sometimes you have to leave home in order to find your true Home. I have returned to Ireland and my old farmhouse in the hills of North Leitrim.

Here with my people - children of the Gael.

Spring has welcomed me...

It is here that my heart sings and my soul dances.

Invocation

GREETING by Ella Young

Over the wave-patterned sea floor,
Over the long sun-burnt ridge of the world,
I bid the winds seek you
I bid them cry to you
Night and morning
A name you loved once;
I bid them bring to you
Reed songs, and songs of the small birds -
and sleep.

i mbolg

imbolg

Imbolc

St. Brigid's Day

and in Ireland I was gifted with a new home. A hearth to warm me and kindle my late winter fire.

Today I rooted a rhododendron cutting from the forest near my new home. They are blow-ins, like myself, and have flourished in the rich moist soil of the Irish woodlands.

So will I.

"The Whereabouts of Eneas McNulty"

Book of Life - Lake of River - stuff of myths and heroic epics. Read this book and be forever changed. "God the Tailor accepts the fabulous lunatics of the earth and stitches the immaculate seams. Sense invigorates the cloudy souls. With charity cloth beyond all redemption,they are redeemed."

Ireland - her people - keep calling to me and I answer "Soon...wait for me" like I would to a restless lover.

I follow the moon and feel the pull of the tides. Soon is not soon enough.

Blessings to the Earth ~ from Ella Young

"Ogma brought the Sword of Light from Findrias the cloud-fair city that is in the east of the De Danaan world; Nuada brought the Spear of Victory from Gorias the flame-bright city that is in the south of the De Danaan world; the Dagda brought the Cauldron of Plenty from Murias the city that is builded in the west of the De Danaan world and has the stillness of deep waters; Midyir brought the Stone of Destiny from Falias the city that is builded in the north of the De Danaan world and has the steadfastness of adamant. Then Brigit and her companions set forth.
They fell like a rain of stars till they came to the blackness that surrounded the Earth, and looking down saw below them, as at the bottom of an abyss, the writhing, contorted, hideous life that swarmed and groped and devoured itself ceaselessly.
From the seething turmoil of that abyss all the Shining Ones drew back save Midyir. He grasped the Fiery Spear and descended like a flame.
His comrades looked down and saw him treading out the monstrous life as men tread grapes in a wine-press; they saw the blood and foam of that destruction rise about Midyir till he was crimson with it even to the crown of his head; they saw him whirl the Spear till it became a wheel of fire and shot out sparks and tongues of flame; they saw the flame lick the darkness and turn back on itself and spread and blossom ¬murk-red — blood-red —rose-red at last!
Midyir drew himself out of the abyss, a Ruby Splendour, and said: "I have made a place for Brigit's mantle. Throw down your mantle, Brigit, and bless the Earth! "
Brigit threw down her mantle and when it touched the Earth it spread itself, unrolling like silver flame. It took possession of the place Midyir had made as the sea takes possession, and it continued to spread itself because everything that was foul drew back from the little silver flame at the edge of it.
It is likely it would have spread itself over all the earth, only Angus, the youngest of the gods, had not patience to wait: he leaped down and stood with his two feet on the mantle. It ceased to be fire and became a silver mist about him. He ran through the mist laughing and calling on the others to follow. His laughter drew them and they followed. The drifting silver mist closed over them and round them, and through it they saw each other like images in a dream—changed and fantastic. They laughed when they saw each other. The Dagda thrust both his hands into the Cauldron of Plenty.
"0 Cauldron," he said, "you give to every one the gift that is meetest, give me now a gift meet for the Earth."
He drew forth his hands full of green fire and he scattered the greenness everywhere as a sower scatters seed. Angus stooped and lifted the greenness of the earth: he scooped hollows in it; he piled it in heaps; he played with it as a child plays with sand, and when it slipped through his fingers it changed colour and shone like star-dust-blue and purple and yellow and white and red." "The Earth Shapers" by Ella Young. In Celtic Wonder Tales, 1923.