The Cailleach and The Well of Youth

On the lands of Knock in Mull (an cnoc Muileach) at the point of Sròn na Crannalaich, near Loch Ba, there is a well, reputed to be ‘The Well of Youth.’ Thither Bera went regularly at ‘the dead of night,’ before bird tasted water or dog was heard to bark, and by then drinking from it kept herself always at sixteen years of age. At last, when making her way to the well on a calm morning (and such mornings are very beautiful in the West Highlands), she heard a dog barking. She exclaimed:

‘Little knows any living wight,
When mischance may befall him ;
For me early has the dog called,
In the calm morn above Loch Ba.
I had enough of spells
To serve the seed of Adam,
But when the mischance was ripe
It could not be warded off.’

Having said this, she fell, crumbling into dust. She lived so long that she had above five hundred children. These were buried by her in the ‘Burial Place of Hosts’ in Ireland, according to one version of the rhyme, and according to another in Cill-mo-Neacain in lona.

She buried Nine times nine by seven,
In the Burial Place of Hosts in Ireland.’

The latter place is said to be the same as the stony patch of ground, not far from the cathedral, called Cill-mo-ghobhlain or Cill-mo-ghobhannain.

John Gregorson Campbell, The Sharp-Witted Wife, in The Scottish Historical Review Volume XII, 1915, p413-414.

 

Loch Awe (II)

And another for Loch Awe:

The occasion of the making of Loch Awe (Gaelic, Loch Odha) was the dun-coloured cow possessed by the Cailleach Bheur.

“This cow was so much thought of by the Cailleach, that there was never a grassy meadow or flowery dell better than another but was reserved for the animal, even if the place were a hundred miles away.

“And as for drinking water, there was no well or mountain spring on the surface of the earth that was good enough for the dun cow, but the well of virtues on the top of Ben Cruachan.

“Even if the animal had been pasturing in the Mull of Kintyre, and it was not seldom that that happened, the Auld Wife would come every step of the way with her to the top of Cruachan to give her to drink.”

It was on a hot day that, tired with following her cow, she had just managed to tether her beside this well and stretched herself out to rest beside it, when, falling asleep, the waters burst forth, and thundered down the rocks, never stopping till they had filled the hollow valley of Loch Awe.

Hull, Legends and Traditions of the Cailleach Bheara or Old Woman (Hag) of Beare, in Folklore, Vol. 38, No. 3 (Sep. 30, 1927), p252-253.

 

Loch Awe and Loch Ness

The creation of Loch Awe and Loch Ness were mentioned in the previous post, so here’s a bit more: 

The Scottish stories about the Cailleach are far more alive and more widely spread than those in Ireland. They make her a one-eyed hag, of great age, who reigned over the Four Red Divisions of the World. She let loose the rivers, and formed many lochs. Loch Awe was formed through her forgetfulness; for she drew water daily from a well on Ben Cruachan in Argyle, lifting the slab off it in the morning and re-covering it at night. But one evening she forgot to cover the well, and, furious at being forgotten, the waters rose and poured down the mountain side, roaring like a torrent. In the morning the valley was filled with water, and Loch Awe was formed. This story is told of the origin of many rivers and lakes. The River Boyne was so formed in Ireland, by the recklessness of its attendant nymph, who in defiance of all the laws of folk belief dared to walk thrice ‘withershins’ round the well. It rose furiously upon her, and drove her before it to the sea.

All she left behind her was her name, which she gave to the river. So also it is told of the Cailleach that she had another well in Inverness which had to be kept covered from sunset to sunrise. It was in charge of her maid Nessa. But one evening she went late to the well, and, when she drew near, water was pouring out of the well after her. She turned and fled, but Beira, who was watching her from the top of Ben Nevis, cried aloud,-”You will run for ever and ever, for you have neglected your duty, and will never leave the water.” The girl changed into a river, and after her the Loch and River Ness are named. Once a year, on the date of her transformation, Ness rises from her river and re-assumes her form as a girl, singing a sad sweet song in the moonlight.

Hull, Legends and Traditions of the Cailleach Bheara or Old Woman (Hag) of Beare, in Folklore, Vol. 38, No. 3 (Sep. 30, 1927), p249-250.

 

Beira, Queen of Winter

MacKenzie gives an excellent overview of the Cailleach’s associations and lore, and in spite of the fact that his Wonder Tales from Scotland is readily available over at sacred-texts.com I think think the first chapter is worth posting here with some additional commentary.

The following excerpt does a good job of showing the many different areas that fall under the Cailleach’s purview; she has power over the weather and has a reputation for causing storms and bad weather; her associations with bad weather make perfect sense when you consider the fact that she is also seen as ruling over the winter seasons, when the biting winds and storms are most common; likewise, her fierce temper matches her wintry associations, and the bad weather that comes with it; she is of incredible old age, and (according to some legends) is able to renew her youth by drinking from a well – usually with specific conditions attached to ensure success; she is responsible for the shaping of the land and seas in which she is inextricably linked…The list goes on…

Dark Beira was the mother of all the gods and goddesses in Scotland. She was of great height and very old, and everyone feared her. When roused to anger she was as fierce as the biting north wind and harsh as the tempest-stricken sea. Each winter she reigned as Queen of the Four Red Divisions of the world, and none disputed her sway. But when the sweet spring season drew nigh, her subjects began to rebel against her and to long for the coming of the Summer King, Angus of the White Steed, and Bride, his beautiful queen, who were loved by all, for they were the bringers of plenty and of bright and happy days.¹ It enraged Beira greatly to find her power passing away, and she tried her utmost to prolong the winter season by raising spring storms and sending blighting frost to kill early flowers and keep the grass from growing.²

Beira lived for hundreds and hundreds of years. The reason she did not die of old age was because, at the beginning of every spring, she drank the magic waters of the Well of Youth which bubbles up in the Green Island of the West. This was a floating island where summer was the only season, and the trees were always bright with blossom and laden with fruit. It drifted about on the silver tides of the blue Atlantic, and sometimes appeared off the western coasts of Ireland and sometimes close to the Hebrides. Many bold mariners have steered their galleys up and down the ocean, searching for Green Island in vain. On a calm morning they might sail past its shores and yet never know it was near at hand, for oft-times it lay hidden in a twinkling mist. Men have caught glimpses of it from the shore, but while they gazed on its beauties with eyes of wonder, it vanished suddenly from sight by sinking beneath the waves like the setting sun. Beira, however, always knew where to find Green Island when the time came for her to visit it.

The waters of the Well of Youth are most potent when the days begin to grow longer, and most potent of all on the first of the lengthening days of spring. Beira always visited the island on the night before the first lengthening day–that is, on the last night of her reign as Queen of Winter. All alone in the darkness she sat beside the Well of Youth, waiting for the dawn. When the first faint beam of light appeared in the eastern sky, she drank the water as it bubbled fresh from a crevice in the rock. It was necessary that she should drink of this magic water before any bird visited the well and before any dog barked. If a bird drank first, or a dog barked ere she began to drink, dark old Beira would crumble into dust.³

As soon as Beira tasted the magic water, in silence and alone, she began to grow young again. She left the island and, returning to Scotland, fell into a magic sleep. When, at length, she awoke, in bright sunshine, she rose up as a beautiful girl with long hair yellow as buds of broom, cheeks red as rowan berries, and blue eyes that sparkled like the summer sea in sunshine. Then she went to and fro through Scotland, clad in a robe of green and crowned with a chaplet of bright flowers of many hues. No fairer goddess was to be found in all the land, save Bride, the peerless Queen of Summer.⁴

As each month went past, however, Beira aged quickly. She reached full womanhood in midsummer, and when autumn came on her brows wrinkled and her beauty began to fade. When the season of winter returned once again, she became an old and withered hag, and began to reign as the fierce Queen Beira.

Often on stormy nights in early winter she wandered about, singing this sorrowful song:–

O life that ebbs like the seal
I am weary and old, I am weary and old–
Oh! how can I happy be
All alone in the dark and the cold.

I’m the old Beira again,
My mantle no longer is green,
I think of my beauty with pain
And the days when another was queen.

My arms are withered and thin,
My hair once golden is grey;
’Tis winter–my reign doth begin–
Youth’s summer has faded away.

Youth’s summer and autumn have fled–
I am weary and old, I am weary and old.
Every flower must fade and fall dead
When the winds blow cold, when the winds blow cold.

The aged Beira was fearsome to look upon. She had only one eye, but the sight of it was keen and sharp as ice and as swift as the mackerel of the ocean. Her complexion was a dull, dark blue, and this is how she sang about it:–

Why is my face so dark, so dark?
So dark, oho! so dark, ohee!
Out in all weathers I wander alone
In the mire, in the cold, ah me!

Her teeth were red as rust, and her locks, which lay heavily on her shoulders, were white as an aspen covered with hoar frost. On her head she wore a spotted mutch. All her clothing was grey, and she was never seen without her great dun-coloured shawl, which was drawn closely round her shoulders.

It is told that in the days when the world was young Beira saw land where there is now water and water where there is now land.

Once a wizard spoke to her and said: “Tell me your age, O sharp old woman.”

Beira answered: “I have long ceased to count the years. But I shall tell you what I have seen. Yonder is the seal-haunted rock of Skerryvore in the midst of the sea. I remember when it was a mountain surrounded by fields. I saw the fields ploughed, and the barley that grew upon them was sharp and juicy. Yonder is a loch. I remember when it was a small round well. In these days I was a fair young girl, and now I am very old and frail and dark and miserable.”

It is told also that Beira let loose many rivers and formed many lochs, sometimes willingly and sometimes against her will, and that she also shaped many bens and glens. All the hills in Ross-shire are said to have been made by Beira.

There was once a well on Ben Cruachan, in Argyll, from which Beira drew water daily. Each morning at sunrise she lifted off the slab that covered it, and each evening at sunset she laid it above the well again. It happened that one evening she forgot to cover the well. Then the proper order of things was disturbed. As soon as the sun went down the water rose in great volume and streamed down the mountain side, roaring like a tempest-swollen sea. When day dawned, Beira found that the valley beneath was filled with water. It was in this way that Loch Awe came to be.

Beira had another well in Inverness-shire which had to be kept covered in like manner from sunset till sunrise. One of her maids, whose name was Nessa, had charge of the well. It happened that one evening the maid was late in going to the well to cover it. When she drew near she beheld the water flowing so fast from it that she turned away and. ran for her life. Beira watched her from the top of Ben Nevis, which was her mountain throne, and cried: “You have neglected your duty. Now you will run for ever and never leave water.”

The maiden was at once changed into a river, and the loch and the river which runs from it towards the sea were named after her. That is why the loch is called Loch Ness and the river the river Ness.⁵

Once a year, when the night on which she was transformed comes round, Ness (Nessa) arises out of the river in her girl form, and sings a sad sweet song in the pale moonlight. It is said that her voice is clearer and more beautiful than that of any bird, and her music more melodious than the golden harps and silvern pipes of fairyland.

In the days when rivers broke loose and lochs were made, Beira set herself to build the mountains of Scotland. When at work she carried on her back a great creel filled with rocks and earth. Sometimes as she leapt from hill to hill her creel tilted sideways, and rocks and earth fell from it into lochs and formed islands. Many islands are spoken of as “spillings from the creel of the big old woman”.

Beira had eight hags who were her servants. They also carried creels, and one after the other they emptied out their creels until a mountain was piled up nigh to the clouds.

One of the reasons why Beira made the mountains was to use them as stepping stones; another was to provide houses for her giant sons. Many of her sons were very quarrelsome; they fought continually one against another. To punish those of them who disobeyed her, Beira shut the offenders up in mountain houses, and from these they could not escape without her permission. But this did not keep them from fighting. Every morning they climbed to the tops of their mountain houses and threw great boulders at one another. That is why so many big grey boulders now lie on steep slopes and are scattered through the valleys. Other giant sons of Beira dwelt in deep caves. Some were horned like deer, and others had many heads. So strong were they that they could pick up cattle and, throwing them over their shoulders, carry them away to roast them for their meals. Each giant son of Beira was called a Fooar.⁶

It was Beira who built Ben Wyvis. She found it a hard task, for she had to do all the work alone, her hag servants being busy elsewhere. One day, when she had grown very weary, she stumbled and upset her creel. All the rocks and earth it contained fell out in a heap, and formed the mountain which is called Little Wyvis.

The only tool that Beira used was a magic hammer. When she struck it lightly on the ground the soil became as hard as iron; when she struck it heavily on the ground a valley was formed. After she had built up a mountain, she gave it its special form by splintering the rocks with her hammer. If she had made all the hills of the same shape, she would not have been able to recognize one from another.

After the mountains were all formed, Beira took great delight in wandering between them and over them. She was always followed by wild animals. The foxes barked with delight when they beheld her, wolves howled to greet her, and eagles shrieked with joy in mid-air. Beira had great herds and flocks to which she gave her protection-nimble-footed deer, high-horned cattle, shaggy grey goats, black swine, and sheep that had snow-white fleeces. She charmed her deer against the huntsmen, and when she visited a deer forest she helped them to escape from the hunters. During early winter she milked the hinds on the tops of mountains, but when the winds rose so high that the froth was blown from the milking pails, she drove the hinds down to the valleys. The froth was frozen on the crests of high hills, and lay there snow-white and beautiful. When the winter torrents began to pour down the mountain sides, leaping from ledge to ledge, the people said: “Beira is milking her shaggy goats, and streams of milk are pouring down over high rocks.”

Beira washed her great shawl in the sea, for there was no lake big enough for the purpose. The part she chose for her washing is the strait between the western islands of Jura and Scarba. Beira’s “washing-pot” is the whirlpool, there called Corry-vreckan. It was so named because the son of a Scottish king, named Breckan, was drowned in it, his boat having been upset by the waves raised by Beira.

Three days before the Queen of Winter began her work her hag servants made ready the water for her, and the Corry could then be heard snorting and fuming for twenty miles around. On the fourth day Beira threw her shawl into the whirlpool, and tramped it with her feet until the edge of the Corry overflowed with foam. When she had finished her washing she laid her shawl on the mountains to dry, and as soon as she lifted it up, all the mountains of Scotland were white with snow to signify that the great Queen had begun her reign.

Now, the meaning of this story is that Beira is the spirit of winter. She grows older and fiercer as the weeks go past, until at length her strength is spent. Then she renews her youth, so that she may live through the summer and autumn and begin to reign once again. The ancient people of Scotland saw that during early winter torrents poured down from the hills, and in this Beira fable they expressed their belief that the torrents were let loose by the Winter Queen, and that the lochs were, at the beginning, formed by the torrents that sprang from magic wells. They saw great boulders lying on hillsides and in valleys, and accounted for their presence in these places by telling how they were flung from mountain tops by the giant sons of Beira.

Notes
1 The tale is told in the following chapter, The Coming of Angus and Bride; as mentioned before, however, it seems that MacKenzie is the only source for this tale.
2 The Cailleach’s battle against the onslaught of spring has already been told here; her struggle ends on Là na Cailliche, when she gives up and throws her mallet down in disgust.
3 A tale of this kind has already been posted here. The motif of approaching the well in silence reflects a common practice in healing rites where the well should be approached before sunrise on a certain day, in absolute silence. Breaking the silence breaks the spell.
4 Once again, MacKenzie seems to be the only source for this, but F. Marian McNeill echoes this in The Silver Bough. Neither give any references for where they got this from, so it’s a little suspect.
5 Campbell also gives a version of Ness’s creation story.
6 MacKenzie notes: “Pronounced Foo’ar. The Anglo-Irish rendering is “Fomorian”, but the Irish Fomorians are different from the Scottish.” But ‘Fooar’ could equally be an anglicised rendering of the Gàidhlig word ‘fuar’, meaning ‘cold.’ This fits with their mountain location and the Cailleach’s association with bitter weather and the winter season itself, suggesting they might actually be considered to be personifications of the Cailleach’s power over the seasons.

 

Hags of creation

Some more from Eleanor Hull, describing some of the most well-known tales associating the Cailleach (or her contemporaries) with creating certain places. 

At Glanworth, Co. Cork, where she has a “Bed” (Labba-cally), the Cailleach is said to have been the wife of a Druid and the mother of Cleena (Cliodhna) and Eevlin (Aoibhlin). The Cailleach Bheara was the banshee of some of the Leinster and Meath families, as Cleena was of the MacCarthys of Munster, and Grian of Cnoc Grèine of other Munster families; Aine of Knockainy of the O’Connors, Una of the O’Carrolls, and Eevill of the Dalcais.

This Hag, the builder of Carnbane, is also known as the monster woman of Garvogue, who ate enormously and was the terror of the neighbourhood. Dean Swift on one occasion visited the place with Dr. Thomas Sheridan, and they picked up the same legends of her dropping the heaps of stone which she carried in her apron. Swift wrote a comic account of the visit. All the Hags or goddesses seem to have been cairn or mountain builders. Grainne, who made the circuit of Ireland in a year and a day, carried stones in her apron to build a dolmen, but threw them down at night to make a sleeping-place. Aine and Cailleach Bheara, as we have said, made the “Cassan” or rude crossing of stepping-stones of the Cammogue Stream to the east of Knockainy. The legends of these Hags often overlap.

In Scotland we have the same mountain-building traditions about her. All the hills of Ross-shire were built by her, and Ben Wyvis was formed of rocks carried by her all alone in her creel. She built them with her magic mallet or hammer, which, when lightly struck, made the soil as hard as iron; but when heavily, a valley was formed. But one day her foot stumbled and her creel upset, so that all the rocks she was carrying fell out in a heap, and they formed the mountain called Little Wyvis. Another legend says that the “Auld Wife” came from Norway, and brought with her the stones to make the Scottish mountains. The loose earth that fell through her pannier or “cliath” formed the Hebrides; and Ailsa Craig fell through her apron. The enormous standing stones on Craigmaddy Moor, near Glasgow, are called “The Auld Wife’s Lifts.” She is especially connected with the Isle of Mull, where a quadrangular rock called by the people “The Standing Walls or Ruins of Cailleach Bheur” is said to mark the site of her house. When an unusually heavy storm is coming on, the people say,- “The Cailleach is going to tramp her blankets tonight.” When the storms of the vernal equinox are passing away and the masses of cloud make snowy islets in the sky, they say,- “The Cailleach has thrown her mallet under the holly,” for the heavy pounding of the hammer has ceased and vegetation will revive again. But no grass will grow under a holly-tree. The association with the hammer would support the assertion of the author of the Statistical Account of the Parishes of Strachur and Stralachan that this “gigantic female Cailleach Vear, who sends destructive tempests” is an impersonation of thunder. They add,- “a very large stone among the hills of Argyleshire has the same name.”

When Beara set herself to build the mountains of Scotland she carried the rocks and earth in a great creel on her back. When her creel tilted sideways, the rocks fell out and formed islands. These islands were called “the spillings from the creel of the big old woman.” She had eight hags who followed her; they also carried creels, and she built the mountains as the dwellings of her giant sons, who were very quarrelsome and fought one another by throwing boulders at each other across the valleys. They were the Fooars, and some were horned like deer and some had many heads. Other legends say that Beara had only two sons, one of whom was black with a white spot on his breast; the other, a famous archer, was white. His bride is, according to a Spey-side legend, Face-of-Light, the spirit of the River Spey. She is captured by the black brother, but is set free when his white brother kills him with an arrow. In Inverness the two brothers who fight with rocks throw only one boulder each in twenty-four hours, and these make night and day. The red hand of the giant of night is often seen at evening.

Hull, Legends and Traditions of the Cailleach Bheara or Old Woman (Hag) of Beare, in Folklore, Vol. 38, No. 3 (Sep. 30, 1927), p246-248.

 

The Cailleach’s magical feat

In a previous post I mentioned a quatrain attributed to the Cailleach, which describes her great age. It mentions a mountain, ‘Carn Ban’ (Carnbane), which the Cailleach says she knew as a lake before it became a mountain. In this following tale, the Cailleach is seen to be associated with the shaping of the mountain – if not the mountain itself, then the cairn upon it. There are many many tales of this kind, and in most cases it is ‘supernatural women’ – goddesses or spirits – who are responsible for the making of them; mountains, river, lakes, cairns and so on.

Before we get into the tale itself I’ve extracted the preceding paragraph to give a little context to where the story takes place. Further posts after this will also concentrate on how the Cailleach, or her associates, are responsible for shaping the land.

But the Cailleach Bheara is most closely associated with the great cairns at Loughcrew, about two miles south-east of Oldcastle, Co. Meath. The Hill called Sliabh-na-Caillighe is 904 feet high and a prominent feature in the landscape. It has three main peaks, two of which are covered with tumuli and cairns, while the third had a large tumulus on it which was broken up by the landowner to make walls round his property. The “Hag’s Chair” is the most conspicuous, though not the largest monument. The cairn is 126 yards in circumference, 21 yards from base to summit, and is surrounded by 37 stones laid on edge, varying in length from six to twelve feet. It faces the north; and, set about four feet inwards from the circumference, is a stone nine feet long, three feet high, and two feet thick with the rude seat hollowed out in the middle called the Hag’s Chair. The back appears to have fallen away, but it is in its present state nearly two tons in weight. A rude cross has been carved in the centre of the seat, probably in recent times.

The legend, which was commonly related in the neighbourhood up to fifty years ago, was that a famous old hag of antiquity called Cailleach Bheara came one day from the North to perform a magical feat, by which she was to obtain great power if she succeeded. She took an apron full of stones and dropped a cairn on Carnbane; from this she jumped to the summit of Sliabh-na-Caillighe, a mile distant, and dropped a second cairn there; then she made a third jump and dropped a cairn on another hill about a mile distant. If she could make a fourth leap and drop a fourth cairn, the feat would have been accomplished; but, in making the jump, she slipped and fell in the townland of Patrickstown in the parish of Diamor, where the poor old hag broke her neck. Here she was buried, and her grave was to be seen in a field called Cul a’mhóta, “Back of the Mote”, about 200 perches east from the mote in that townland, but it is now destroyed.

Hull, Legends and Traditions of the Cailleach Bheara or Old Woman (Hag) of Beare, in Folklore, Vol. 38, No. 3 (Sep. 30, 1927), p245-246.

 

The Cailleach and ‘the deer cult’

An article on the Cailleach, ‘The Deer-Cult and Deer-Goddess Cult of the Ancient Caledonians,’ has some fascinating tidbits of lore and history about the Cailleach. Mainly focusing on the Scottish evidence, there is some reference to Irish lore as well, which makes it a good source for hunting up other places to look for information on the Cailleach.

The article itself argues that the Cailleach is a ‘deer goddess’, and while much of it is of questionable conclusions and reasoning (only the Scottish lore commonly associates the Cailleach with deer, for one, so the argument blatantly ignores the bigger picture), it’s a good read nonetheless. McKay concludes that the reason for the Cailleach’s lack of presence in the literature – numbering her amongst the other gods of the myths – is that this obviously “…mark[s] her as an aboriginal.” Rather, I would say, it’s maybe because the name itself – ‘Cailleach’ – is no name at all, but an epithet. Like many gods, the Cailleach is more a title than a name in its own right, and perhaps it was one that was not familiar to the scribes who recorded the tale, or one they declined to use for whatever reason. Who knows. Whatever the case, to say that the Cailleach is ‘aborginal’ ignores the fact that she clearly behaves in a thoroughly ‘native’, Gaelic, way…

Anyway, onto the next bit of lore. Suffice it to say I don’t agree with slapping on a label of ‘fish-goddess’ either, as McKay tries to do here. It seems more likely that goddesses were simply associated with things of importance to the locale in which they were honoured, and what with living on an island, fish would have been an important part of the economy. I would love to track down the song, however; if anyone knows of a version anywhere, I’d be eternally grateful if you prod me about it.

(I), Island of Tiree. On the farm of Hianish or Heynish, in Tiree, is a spot called ” The Burial Place of the Big Women.” The name may merely indicate that priestesses were of great stature, as is very likely. But even so, the name suggests a group of such priestesses, and that again suggests a group of goddesses. But the evidence of the name is not strong enough to bear much weight.

(2), Island of Eigg. Still called “Eilean nam Ban Móra”, i.e. the Isle of the Big Women. A little loch, with some prehistoric building or crannog constructed in it, is called “Loch nam Ban Móra “, i.e., the Lake of the Big
Women. The crannog was inhabited by women of such unique proportions that the stepping stones by which they gained their home were set so far apart as to be useless to any one else. Thus says one tradition. Another tradition says that St. Donnan was martyred by the “Amazon Queen” who reigned in the island; the Queen in question can hardly be anything but the condensation of a group.

(3) Island of Mull. An Doideag Mhuileach, i.e. the Mull Doideag (singular), is supposed to have sunk, or to have assisted in sinking, the Spanish Armada. She was much dreaded because of her power in raising storms, and appears in several tales. In other tales, Na Doideagan Muileach, i.e. the Mull Doideags or witches (plural), appear. Snow-flakes are said to be the witches of Mull going to a meeting of witches, from which it is to be inferred that the priestesses of the island dressed in white.

(4) Jura. The name of this island is supposed to be from the Norse, Dyr-ey, meaning Deer’s Isle. A group called the Seven Big Women of Jura occur in two of Campbell of Islay’s tales,* but they occur as an individual in another two of his tales. This individual goddess is also called Cailleach Mho’r nam Fiadh, (The Huge Old Woman of the Deer). She is the only Hebridean instance known to me as being connected with the deer. The other Hebridean goddesses may have been so connected, but I have no evidence that they were. On the other hand, a once well-known song called “Cailleach Liath Ratharsaidh” (now unfortunately known as “Mrs. Macleod of Raasay”) speaks of the three Hebridean Cailleachs of Raasay, Rona, and Sligachan as being fond of fish. They were probably fish-goddesses.

McKay, The Deer-Cult and the Deer-Goddess Cult of the Ancient Caledonians, Folklore Volume 43, 1932, p161-162.

* See Campbell’s Popular Tales of the West Highlands Volume 2, 1890, Tale 46.

 

Three great ages, and other things

Some lore about the Cailleach here, excerpted from the notes of Kuno Meyer’s Aisling Meic Conglinne, or The Vision of Mac Conglinne. She is mentioned in passing during the main text as “a white nun, of Beare,” (on page 6), and Meyer brings together some lore and commentary regarding her later on. He refers to a quatrain that the Cailleach herself is said to have recited, and in it she comments on just how old she really is:

‘Mise Cailleach Bhéara bhocht,
iomdha iongnadh amharcas riamh,
chonnarcas Carn Ban ‘na loch,
cidhgo bhfuil sé ‘nois ‘na shliabh.”

“I am the poor old woman of Beare,
Many wonders have I seen,
I have seen Carn Ban a lake.
Though now it is a mountain.”

Of the reference to her in the Vision itself, Eleanor Hull comments: “One of the earliest mentions we find of the Cailleach Bheara is in the twelfth-century satire called the Vision of Mac Conglinne, where, in a poem recounting the names of eight persons in Armagh who were “proclaimed for their deeds” in poems, we find the Cailleach Beara ban or “White Nun of Beare” associated with such fairy or pagan personages as “the Dark One of the two Tribes” (Dubh da Thuath), “The Dun Raven,” “Garbdaire, son of Samhain” (“Rough Oak, son of Hallowe’en”), and Becan, Becnait, “Little Man, Little Wife,” who are said to be “Father and Mother of Marban” the Dead Man,”–clearly all fairy people. It is singular to find the names of eight fairy people proclaimed after midnight in the central church of Irish Christianity, but we must remember that we are dealing in this poem with a scathing satire on the church, and we must beware of pushing its statements beyond their legitimate limits.”¹

The following excerpt is a little longer, and Meyer credits a Father O’Growney for collecting the lore, sayings and tales from ‘a friend’ near Slyne Head:

Three great ages: the age of the yew tree, the age of the eagle, the age of Cailleach Bhéara.

The habits of Cailleach Bhéara: She did not carry the mud of one pool beyond the next pool. She did not
eat when she was hungry. She did not go to sleep until she was sleepy. She did not throw away the dirty water until she had clean water in the house.

Her advice: One night she was on the sea with her children. The night was still and dark, and it was freezing. The cold went to their very marrow. She told them to make themselves warm. ” We cannot,” said they. “Bale the sea out and in,” said she. “Take the scoop, fill the boat, and bale it out again.” They did so and made themselves warm until the morning, when they found opportunity to go ashore.

She had a bull called Tarbh Conraidh. There was no cow that heard him bellow and had not a calf at
the end of the year. Wherever the grass was best and sweetest, there she would drive her cows and the
bull. One day the bull heard the lowing of a cow. He ran from the Cailleach until he reached the cow, and the Cailleach after him. She followed him until they came to Mainin. He swam across a small creek that lay in his way. When he reached the dry land, the Cailleach had leaped across the creek, struck him with her druid’s rod, and turned him into stone. The bull-shaped stone is to be seen to this very day.

Meyer, Aislinge Meic Conglinne: The Vision of Mac Conglinne, 1892, p133-134.

Notes

1 See Hull, Legends and Traditions of the Cailleach Bheara or Old Woman (Hag) of Beare in Folklore, Vol. 38, No. 3 (Sep. 30, 1927), p229.

 

The Old Woman of Lia Nothain

Here’s an intriguing one, which I can only conclude contains a relatively obscure reference to the Cailleach Bhéarra. Nothain – a cailleach, an ‘old woman’ as Stokes translates it, is shown here to have a sister who is called Sentuinne, or ‘Old Woman’; I can only assume the Berre mentioned here is the Beare most commonly associated with the Cailleach, suggesting that Sentuinne may be the Cailleach Bhéarra herself. Like the Cailleach of Gleann Cailliche in Glen Lyon – where there is a shrine to the Cailleach and her family – she is married to an old man (called the Bodach in Glen Lyon, the shrine being called either Tigh nam Bodach or Tigh na Caillich).

Nothain being taken out onto the plain at Bealtaine seems to be hint at some sort of seasonal/fertility associations here. Mythological women or goddesses are commonly associated with clearing and dying at plains, which naturally provide pasture or fields for crops to grow, and so their deaths might be seen as a sacrifice for the sake of their people’s well-being. 

Nothain (was) an old woman of Connaught, and from the time she was born her face never fell on a field, and her thrice fifty years were complete. Her sister once went to have speech with her. Sentuinne (” Old Woman”) was her name: her husband was Sess Srafais, and Senbachlach (“Old-Churl”) was another name for him. Hence said the poet:

Sentuinne and Senbachlach,
A seis srofais be their withered hair!
If they adore not God’s Son
They get not their chief benefit.

From Berre, then, they went to her to bring her on a plain on May-day. When she beheld the great plain, she was unable to go back from it, and she planted a stone (lia) there in the ground, and struck her head against it and….and was dead. ” It will be my requiem….I plant it for sake of my name.” Whence Lia Nothan (“Nothan’s Stone”).

Nothain, daughter of Conmar the fair,
A hard old woman of Connaught,
In the month of May, glory of battle,
She found the high stone.

Stokes, The Bodleian Dindshenchas, Folklore Vol III, 1892, p504-505.

 

The Morrígan and Mag Breg

The Morrígan appears in this Dindshenchas associated with cattle, and not for the first time; she owned a bull-calf of the Donn of Cuailnge, and it was a fight between this bull and Aillil’s bull Finnbennach that brought the Donn of Cuailnge to Medb’s attention (and so begins the Táin, according to some versions). 

Mag mBreg, to wit, Brega, the name of Dil’s ox, that is Dil, daughter of Lugh-mannair, who went from the Land of Promise,¹ or from the land of Falga,² with Tulchine, the druid of Conaire the Great, son of Etirscel, son of Mess Buachalla. In the same hour that Dil was born of her mother the cow brought forth the calf named Falga. So the king’s daughter loved the calf beyond the rest of the cattle, for it was born at the same time (that she was); and Tulchine was unable to carry her off until he took the ox with her. The Morrigan was good unto him, and he prayed her to give him that drove so that it might be on Mag nOlgaidi, (which was) the first name of the plain; (and Brega loved that plain). Hence Mag mBreg is (so) called.

Or maybe it was named from Breogan, by whom the plain was cleared. This is truer, and hence the poet said:

Mag Breoga, palm of our origin,
As far as Tuaimm Trebain without weakness.
The eldest of the heroes over seas,
Breoga, overcame Brega.

Stokes, The Bodleian Dindshenchas, Folklore Vol III, 1892, p471.

Notes

1 Tír Tairngire.

2 This seems to be a name for the Isle of Man.