Author: Michele Ainley

  • The Larks of Glendalough

     

    June 3 is the feast of Saint Kevin of Glendalough, a saint in whom there has been a revival of interest in recent decades thanks to his status as a poster boy for ‘Celtic Christianity’. This movement claims that our native saints were especially in tune with the natural environment and as a result enjoyed a special relationship with the animal creation. And no anthology of ‘Celtic Christianity’ is complete without a reference to one of the most famous episodes from Saint Kevin’s hagiography – the sheltering of a nesting bird in his outstretched, praying hands until her young have fledged. It is a theme which has also inspired poets (including the late Seamus Heaney), and below is a 1905 example, The Larks of Glendalough, by Thomas Walsh. It is striking that Walsh has chosen the lark here for most retellings of this tale, which originated in the History and Topography of Ireland by the twelfth-century chronicler, Gerald of Wales, identify the avian as a blackbird. I am left wondering therefore if Walsh has conflated the story of the blackbird which nests in Saint Kevin’s palm with another legend of Glendalough which seeks to explain why the song of the lark is never heard over the site. This lark legend is bound up with the construction of the Seven Churches of Glendalough and here it is as told to a mid-nineteenth-century traveller to Ireland by his guide, a Mr. Winder:

    Among the portentous events that my friend Mr. Winder told me was this,— that for 1,300 years the skylark had never been heard to warble over the lake, because St. Kevin prayed that it might never have the power to do so; and the reason was, that the men who were building the city where the Seven Churches stand had made a vow to commence their work each day as soon as the lark rose, and not to leave off till the sun had set. They kept their vow, and were in consequence so worn out with fatigue, that many of them died; when St. Kevin, out of compassion, offered up his prayers that no lark should henceforth rise into the air — the prayer was granted, and ‘the plague was stayed.’ All this is firmly believed. Subsequent to this, a man, who was driving me in a jaunting-car, told me that it was as true as we were sitting in the car that the skylark was never heard to warble over the lake for 1,300 years, though it was heard commonly outside the Seven Churches, at the distance of a few hundred yards. I asked him, if he did not think that skylarks preferred warbling over cornfields rather than over lakes?”

              The tourist’s illustrated hand-book for Ireland, (London, 1854), 42. 

    The lark legend thus seems quite distinct from that of Saint Kevin and the Blackbird. I have not been able to find out any more about our poet Thomas Walsh but, whether or not he has confused his Glendalough bird legends here, his poem at least has the merit of depicting Saint Kevin as someone engaged in the monastic life. Indeed, Walsh seems to be describing Saint Kevin using the ancient prayer posture known as crois-fhigill, cross-vigil, where the arms are outspread in imitation of Christ’s position on the cross. Overall, although it is typical of the sentimental verse published in the popular religious press of this time, I find The Larks of Glendalough charming:
     
    The Larks of Glendalough
    By Thomas Walsh

    All night the gentle saint had prayed,
    And, heedless of the thrush and dove,
    His radiant spirit still delayed
    To hear the seraph choirs above.

    So still he knelt — his arms outspread,
    His head thrown backward from his breast —
    A lark across the casement sped,
    And in his fingers built its nest.

    The angel music from his soul
    Receded with the flood of day;
    Through Glendalough the sunlight stole
    And brushed the mists and dews away.

    ’Twas then the saint beheld the bird
    Serenely nesting in his hand,
    And murmured, “Ah, if thou hadst heard
    The matins in that seraph land!”

    Then, soft again he turned to pray;
    Nor moved his arm at even close
    Or matin call from day to day
    Until their nestling voices rose.

    And when his loving task was done,
    Above his cell he heard them cry: —
    “O Kevin, Kevin! Gentle one !
    We bear to heaven thy soul’s reply!”

    The Rosary Magazine, Volume 26, (January-June 1905), 18.

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  • Saint Buryan, May 29

    May 29 is the feast of the County Offally female Saint Brunsecha of Killyon, whose story is interwoven with that of Saint Ciarán of Saighir and his mother, Saint Liadhain. Today we are going to reprise Saint Brunsecha’s story but this time in connection with a Cornish saint, Buryan (Burian, Buriana, Buriena) who seems to have assimilated aspects of our Irish holy woman’s identity, including her feast day. As we shall see though, May 29 is only one of a number of different feast days ascribed to the Cornish saint in the sources. In general I am sceptical about the Irish origins claimed for saints such as Buryan, since Ireland in the Middle Ages was regarded as the insula sanctorum there was a certain cachet associated with claiming an Irish saint as a monastic or church founder. That is not to deny of course that there are Irish saints whose well-documented careers in Britain are beyond question, but the vague claims surrounding ‘Irish princesses’ such as Buryan cannot readily be substantiated. But let us start by looking at what these claims were. Canon O’Hanlon’s Lives of the Irish Saints has an entry for Saint Buriena on this day, but our guide below is the prolific Anglican writer Sabine Baring-Gould (1834-1924), who relies on the hagiography of Saint Ciarán to explain why both he and Brunsecha leave Ireland for Cornwall where he becomes Saint Piran and she Saint Buriena:

    S. BURIENA, Virgin Abbess.

    S. Buriena was one of the Irish Colony that came over about 520. Leland in his Itinerary (iii, 18,) says, “S. Buriana, an Holy Woman of Ireland, sumtyme dwellid in this place and there made an oratory. King Ethelstane going hence, as it is said, unto Sylley and returning, made ex voto a College where the oratorio was.” She has been identified by Mr. Adams with ‘Bruinech the Slender’ of the Martyrology of Donegal, “who” says the scholiast on the martyrology, “is venerated in a town bearing her name, in England, on the 29th May.” But this is inaccurate, the feast of S. Buryan being the nearest Sunday to May 12.

    Leland calls her Bruinet, and says she was a king’s daughter, who came into Cornwall with S. Piran. The forms Bruinet and Bruinech are mere variations in spelling, that occur repeatedly as Gobnat and Gobnach, Rignat and Eignach, Dervet and Dervech. The ech, or at, or et, is a diminutive for female names, like the oc for male names. So Brig becomes Bridget.

    Bruinech was of illustrious birth. She was the daughter of Crimthan a chieftain in Munster, grandson of that Oengus MacNadfraich who had been baptized by S. Patrick. She was a kinswoman of S. Kieran.

    The story of Buriena is found in the life of S. Kieran (Piran), of Saighir. It has been paraphrased by Mr. Adams, from Colgan (Journal R. Inst, of Cornwall, vol. iv. p. 141). But it will be preferable to give it from the original text in the Salamanca Codex: — She was, as already stated, daughter of a chieftain in Munster, and she embraced the religious life under Liadhain the mother of S. Kieran, one of the first abbesses in Ireland. Liadhain had a religious house at Killyon in King’s County. The damsel was slim in form, and so went by the name of Bruinech or Brunsech Caol, the “Slender;” she was also very beautiful.

    Dimma, of the Hy Fiachai District in West Meath, fell in love with her and carried her off against her will, with the assistance of his clansmen.

    The wrath of S. Kieran was kindled, and he sped after the ravisher, to demand her back again. Dimma refused to restore her to liberty, “Never!” — said he — ” till I hear the cuckoo call at day-dawn and arouse me from sleep.”

    It was winter time, and a deep snow lay on the ground and crested the castle walls. As the gates were shut, Kieran and his companions had to spend the night in the snow outside. They passed it in prayer. Lo! next morning a cuckoo * was perched on every turret of the chieftain’s castle, uttering its plaintive call. Surprised and alarmed at this marvel, Dimma released the maiden. [* Mr. Adams says “a Swan,” the word is “Duculus,” but according to another version the bird was a heron.]

    Putting aside what is fabulous in this story, we see the venerable saint’s enthusiasm for the protection of innocence, and there is something very pathetic in the thought of his spending the winter night in the snow, outside the gate, rather than abandon his efforts to save the poor girl.

    What actually took place was that Piran or Kieran “fasted against” Dimma. This was a practice among the Irish. If a man wanted something very particular, and was refused it, he went to the door of the man of whom he made petition and remained there exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and refused all food, till he died. This was literally laying his death at the door of the other, and it entailed on the man who let him die all the consequences of a blood-feud. The practice is not unknown now in India.

    When, in the 12th century, the life of S. Kieran was re-written, the editor could not understand the practice, which had long ago been abandoned, so he invented the story of the cuckoo to give point to the incident, and account for the surrender of Dimma.

    As soon as Bruinech had been released, Kieran took her back to his mother at Killyon.

    After a few days the chieftain repented of having released her, his passion for the girl was not overcome, and he returned to the convent to again carry her off. In her fright, Bruinech fainted away, and Dimma was shewn her, lying unconscious. He stormed at Kieran, who he thought had killed her rather than give her back to him, and he threatened to drive him out of the country.

    Kieran replied, “Thou hast no power over me. Thy strength is but a vain shadow.”

    According to the legend, at this juncture news arrived that Dimma’s dun was on fire; that is to say, the wooden and wickerwork structures within the fort were blazing. At the tidings, the chief hastily left the convent, in hopes of rescuing some of his valuables from the flames.

    Dimma is by no means a fabulous personage, he was chief of the Cinel Fiachai; he was fourth or fifth in descent from Niall of the Nine Hostages, King of Ireland, who died 405, and was even uncle of a Saint, Aid Mac Bric, who died in 588.

    It was clearly undesirable for Kieran to remain in the place, and it is possible that it was at this time he removed to Cornwall, taking the damsel Bruinech with him. She is said to have lived many years afterwards.

    Kieran or Piran became Bishop about 538, and he is thought to have died about 550, but this is mere conjecture, as the Irish Annals do not give the date of his decease, and as this occurred out of Ireland we may put his migration to Cornwall at about 520. Buriena is identified with Bruinech by several martyrologists.

    Nothing is recorded of the acts of S. Buriena in Cornwall, but the general tradition is that she spent the rest of her days in good works. It is rather remarkable that her settlement should have been near the foundation of S. Senan, rather than near any of those of S. Kieran. Her settlement must have been of considerable importance, for it had a Sanctuary, which implies this. The Sanctuary, with its oratory, remains about a mile south-east of the parish church that bears her name, beside a rivulet, on the farm of Bosliven. There are traces of extensive foundations near the oratory. Probably popular veneration attached to this place, long after the transfer of the church, for it excited the rage of Shrubsall, one of Cromwell’s Officers, and he almost totally destroyed it.

    The day of S. Bruinech, in the Irish Calendars is on May 29, and this indeed is the day marked as that of S. Buriena in some English Calendars. But at Burian the feast is now held on the Sunday nearest to May 12, and in the Exeter Calendar her day is given as May 1. The Feast at Burian is on Old-Style May-Day, i.e. eleven days after May 1.

    In the second edition of the “Martyrologium Anglicanum” of Wilson, 1640, she is inserted on June 19, but in his first edition, on May 29.

    Her death probably occurred about 550.

    In art she would be represented as an Irish Nun, in white, with a cuckoo.

    Rev. S. Baring-Gould, ‘A Catalogue of Saints connected with Cornwall, and List of Churches and Chapels Dedicated to them’, Journal of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, Volume XIII, (1895-98), 485-488.

    Modern scholar, Nicholas Orme, has a number of observations to make on Saint Buryan in his authoritative 2000 study The Saints of Cornwall. He traces the first mention of her in the historical record to a tenth-century list of saints, where she appears as ‘Berion’ and ‘in a charter attributed to King Athelstan (925-39) granting property to the clergy of the church of Sancta Beriana, meaning St Buryan (Cornwall)’. As for her supposed Irish origins, Orme concludes:

    The context of Cornish history, however makes Buryan more likely to have been a Brittonic saint from Brittany or Cornwall.

    Nicholas Orme, The Saints of Cornwall (Oxford University Press, 2000), p.78

    Yet, although I don’t accept Saint Burian as an Irish saint, it is nevertheless fascinating to see the process by which the cult of a saint from this country is transferred to another. Interestingly, on June 4 the Irish calendars mark the feast of the Cornish saint Petroc, so the traffic is not all one-way!

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  • Saint Colmán Lobhar of Moynoe, May 21

     

    On May 21 we find the feast of Saint Colmán, one of a number of Irish saints to be described as lobhar, a ‘leper’. The name Colmán is derived from Colum and along with a bewildering number of other variants is one of the most commonly found names on the Irish calendars of the saints. Our foremost modern hagiologist, Pádraig Ó Riain, has argued that many of these saints represent local manifestations of the cult of the most famous Colum of them all – Saint Colum Cille (Columba). Saint Colmán Lobhar of Moynoe, County Clare, might fit this theory. Canon O’Hanlon in Volume V of his Lives of the Irish Saints lists the evidence from the calendars and offers some observations on the nature of the ‘leprosy’ associated with our saint:

    Article VII. St. Colman, Lobhar, or the Leper, of Magh-n-ec- or Moyne, County of Clare

    In the”Feilire”of St.Aengus, the festival of “zealous Colman, a leper,” is mentioned at this date;’ and, therefore we may infer, that he flourished, at an early period, in the Irish church. His office is not known. The Martyrology of Tallagh registers this name, at the 21st of May. His place is called Maighe Eo. The Bollandists have a festival for Colmanus leprosus de Magh-eo, on the same authority; but, as they allege, little more can they find regarding him, except that Colgan refers Colmanus Lobhar and his feast to this date. Muighe-Eo—which was in Dal-Cais—must be distinguished from Mayo, in Connaught. Its fuller denomination was Maigh-neo-Norbhraighe, now known as Moynoe, or Mayno, an old church, which gives name to a parish, on the margin of Lough Derg, in the barony of Upper Tulla, and county of Clare. A church at this place had been burned by the Conmaicni, in 1084. This church is mentioned, also, in the Caithreim Toirdheal-bhaigh, or “Wars of Thomond,” at the year 1318, as the hereditary termon of the Ui-Bloid. This day veneration was paid to Colman, Lobhar, or the Leper, of Magh-n-eo, in Dal-glais, as we find entered,in the Martyrology of Donegal. It  seems not improbable, that some of our saints, called Lepers, had not been afflicted with the same form of disease, known as leprosy, in certain countries at the present time; and, it is likely enough, that their malady was some form of erysipelas, or of a skin distemper, corresponding with the bodily infirmity to which allusion has been made.

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