Stories of Heaven and Hell on the Glengarriff Road to Castletownbere

Driving  back home late one afternoon from Glengarriff (Gleann Garbh in Irish, meaning "Rough glen") we happened upon another Marian Shrine tucked into the hillside.When I stepped out of the car I could hear the familiar sound of running water. Most Marian Shrines are built beside streams or wells that are believed to contain water rich with magical and healing properties.

I paused to think about how heavenly it would have been for road worn travelers to come upon an ancient sacred well, or a grotto, knowing they could rest, quench their thirst  and heal their weary bodies. Did this spring heal eyesight? Did it give comfort to arthritic limbs? Was it used for blessing children? What is its story?

 

A part of me also marveled at  how this seemingly innocent place could hide a dark and horrible tale remembered by only a few people. Stories take on a life of their own, evolving, exaggerating, encompassing and then, in time, fading away. I find that happens a great deal here in Ireland. The landscape is a story;every rock and tree and tomb has a tale to tell, a myth that imbues it with spirit, a legacy that is a touchstone for those who know and remember. I wish I could find a way to learn all the stories of the land, but bit by bit the voices are falling silent and a stone becomes just a stone, a lonely tree is just a tree....unless somebody remembers.

The road beside the Marian shrine curves around the corner and opens into a straightaway with a view of Sugarloaf Mountain. (Gabhal Mhór in Irish, which translates into Big Fork).On the side of the road sits an innocent looking tree, long dead, its bark wind worn and exposing its white skeleton. This tree is not just a tree, it is a tale, slowly losing its ability to hang onto its story.

 When I first moved to Castletownbere an elderly gentleman told me the story of how a priest was trapped on the lonely stretch of road between Castletownbere and Glengarriff by a group of Cromwell's men. The young priest fought valiantly for his life but was tortured and dismembered, his body hung from the branches for all to see on the long and winding road. Nobody dared touch the corpse, and so it hung until Nature reclaimed it as her own and the lonely tree was cursed.

 

The gentleman told me that the tree's taboo was so powerful that, centuries later, the workers who fixed the road refused to touch it for fear of the curse.

It seemed innocent enough to me until I started photographing it and felt the distinct sensation of the hairs standing up on my arms and a chill move through me. I couldn't help but shiver, despite the sunshine.

When is a tree no longer just a tree? When it is a story trying to hang on to its memory.....

Children of Lir Mythical Site, Allihies, County Cork, Ireland

Just outside the lovely seaside village of Allihies is a small sacred site dedicated to the Children of Lir.(Clann Lir) Their lives are celebrated in their ancient story,one of the three sorrows of Irish storytelling.

 

Barra's Ring, An Original Painting by Susanne Iles

The Legend : 900 Year Journey
Children of Lir
A sign posted by Beara Tourism reads as follows:

"The story of the children of Lir is a well known legend in Ireland. Many areas in Ireland claim to be the landing spot of the swans after their 900 year journey on the seas and lakes of Ireland. The children were the sons and daughters of Lir, a member of the Tuatha de Danaan clan, who married Eve daughter of King Bov the Red, King of the Tuatha de Danaan. Eve and Lir were blissfully married and had a set of twins-Aed and Finola, and after a short period there followed another set of twins, 2 boys, Conn and Fiara. Unfortunately Eve died soon after and Lir,not wanting his children growing up without the love of a mother, married Eva, King Bov's second daughter. This was a happy marriage until Eva became jealous of Lir's devotion of his children."

 Swans: Bells in the Village of Allihies 

"Overcome with hatred she brought the children to Lough Darravagh near their home and transformed them into swans. Realising what she had done and overcome with remorse, she attempted to release the spell but could only ease their distress by enabling them to speak and sing and to remain as swans for 900 years until Christianity was introduced into Ireland. The swans spent the first 300 years on Lough Darravagh close to their home. The next 300 years was spent on the Sea of Moyle, a cold and desolate area between Scotland and the north of Ireland. The last 300 years they endured on the Atlantic sea. When their time was over the swans attracted by the ringing of a bell rung by a monk living in Allihies village in the Beara Peninsula, came ashore and immediately were changed back into their human form. The children were by now old men and women (and) were baptised by the monk. A short time later they died and were buried under these large white boulders. Traditionally rounds were made by the local people circling the boulders. Money was placed under the boulders as an offering to the children."

What's interesting to note is that there is another Ring of Beara connection to the Children of Lir story. Glenbeg Lake may have been one of the swans' resting places before the children heard the bells ringing.
This is truly a land of mystery and stories.

Would You Like to Learn More? 

The Children of Lir, by artist PJ Lynch

A poignant and beautiful painting by PJ Lynch, depicting the last moments of the Children of Lir.

Ireland Information: The Children of Lir

A re-telling of the story, The Children of Lir.

Allihies, County Cork, Ireland

Information about Allihies, County Cork, Ireland. The mythical site is located in this lovely seaside village.

Ancient Texts

This site not only includes the story entitled, "The Fate of the Children of Lir", but also is endeavoring to provide the largest on-line library of ancient texts in the world.       View Larger Map