LITMIR.BIZ

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there is a local tradition of bones being buried at the site. About 400 yards north-west of the graveyard is St Patrick’s Well. To get to the graveyard, go to Kelliston Crossroads, which are approximately four miles south-east from the town of Tullow. At the cross, turn right and continue for one mile, and here you will find a church on your right; looking north-east from the church is the likely battle site. A few hundred yards before the crossroads is a mound with steep sides and a small, rounded summit. This may well have been the site of the local king, and the battle may have been an attempt by a provincial king to extend his kingdom. Oilill, one of the invaders, eventually became King of Leinster. Legend has it that around this time St Patrick and Caoilte mac Ronáin, a warrior of the Fianna* who had miraculously survived into Christian times, came to Kilomeel, where they were entertained by a dulcimer player and where St Patrick performed a miracle.

      St Mullin’s (Tigh Moling, ‘the houses of Moling’) is situated on the east side of the Barrow River six miles south from Graiguenamanagh [68]. St Moling, who flourished in the seventh century, is cited by Aengus the Culdee (a bishop from the ninth century) as one of the early ecclesiastics who was distinguished as a literary figure. The story of the building of the oratory of St Moling involves the legendary builder of round towers, castles and oratories, namely the Gobán Saor,* the famous smith whose buildings and whose antics are a necessary part of the storyteller’s bag. As payment for building the oratory, the Gobán Saor wanted the chapel filled with corn, rushes, apples and nuts. Whether he was successful or not leads to a long story, way beyond the remit of the present work. An oratory still stands at St Mullin’s, although in ruins; whether this is the one that the Gobán built is anybody’s guess.

      The association of St Moling with that great personage of Irish myth, Suibhne Geilt* or Mad Sweeney* – the inspiration of the Ulster poets – is an example of a blending of Irish mythology with Christian saga. Some people say they are one and the same person due to the fact that Suibhne was said to have flown from place to place around Ireland, and the etymology of Moling’s name is mo ling or ‘my flight’. Be that as it may, St Mullin’s is special insofar as it encloses these two notable people within its grounds. Suibhne* eventually settled down at Tigh Moling, where he was looked after by the saint. His wanderings have inspired the imagination of many poets to which the following verses give testament:

      Duairc an bhetha-sa

      bheith gan maeithleaptha,

      adhbha úairsheacha,

      garbha gáoithshnechta …

      Gloomy this life,

      to be without a soft bed,

      abode of cold frost

      roughness of wind driven snow.

      Cold, icy wind,

      faint shadow of a feeble sun,

      shelter of a single tree,

      on the summit of a table land.

      Enduring the rain-storm,

      stepping over deerpaths,

      faring through greensward

      on a morn of grey frost.

      The bellowing of the stags

      throughout the wood,

      the climb to the deer-pass,

      the voice of white seas.

      [Translated by J.G. O’Keeffe]

      St Moling told his cook, Muirgil, to give Suibhne* fresh milk to drink each day. She used to ‘thrust her heel up to her ankle in the cow dung … and leave the full of it of new milk for Suibhne’. Suibhne* would come cautiously into the yard to drink the milk. Muirgil’s husband was Moling’s swineherd Mongán, whose sister provoked him to jealousy, leading him to throw a spear at Suibhne as he was drinking the milk. The spear passed through the nipple of Suibhne’s left breast and broke his back in two. At this, Suibhne, Moling and Mongán utttered a lay between them, Suibhne speaking the following:

      There was a time when I deemed more melodious

      than the quiet converse of people,

      the cooing of a turtle dove

      flitting about a pool.

      There was a time when I deemed more melodious

      than the sound of a little bell beside me

      the warbling of the blackbird to the mountain

      and the belling of a stag in a storm.

      There was a time when I deemed more melodious

      than the voice of a beautiful woman beside me,

      to hear at dawn,

      the cry of the mountain grouse.

      [Translated by J.G. O’Keeffe]

      Suibhne died because of Mongán’s assault and was buried at tobar na ngealt, ‘the madman’s well’. There is a possibility that the well in question is St Mullins’ Well, about 100 yards north of the wheeled cross, which contains a rectangular stone with a circular basin. However, as this was a significant centre in the seventh century, it is possible that there were a number of other wells, any one of which could be his resting place. Tigh Moling is sited on a field known anciently as achadh cainida (‘the field of keening or wailing’); whether there is any connection with this and Suibhne’s* burial place is open to speculation. St Moling died in 697 AD.

      Another impressive earthwork is at Mohullen or Mohullin (magh-chuilinn, ‘plain of holly’), an earthwork locally known as ‘the Rath’. This place is associated with numerous traditions and beliefs. Bones were found when the field was tilled. It does not have a record in the annals like Dind Ríg but is nonetheless full of local folklore. Mohullen is three miles south-east of Borris [68] on the R702; before you get to Ballymurphy, turn right onto the R703 and about a half-mile on your right is Mohullen.

      Two miles west from Leighlinbridge is Oldleighlin [61] (Seanleithghlinn, ‘the old half glen’), named from the configuration of the Madlin riverbed. This place was celebrated as an ecclesiastical establishment with a cathedral, and prior to that in pre-Christian times it was celebrated as possessing one of the sacred trees of Ireland, namely the Eó Rossa. The Eó Rossa was a yew, one of the five famous trees of Ireland as mentioned in the Book of Leinster. The Eó Rossa has been in the Rennes Dindshenchas* as ‘noblest of trees, glory of Leinster, dearest of bushes’. In the Book of Leinster, it receives a thirty-three-line stanza in its praise, ascribed to Druim Suithe (‘ridge of science’ − so this poet has presumably taken a pseudonym), and his or her praise in the form of epithets for this sacred tree is as follows:

      Eó Rosa

      roth ruirech

      recht flatha

      fuaim tuinni

      dech dúilib

      diriuch dronchrand

      dia dronbalc

      dor nime

      nert n-aicde

      fó foirne

      fer ferbglan

      gart glanmár

      tren trinoit

      dam toimsi

      maith máthar

      mac Maire

      muir mothach

      miad maisse

      mál menman

      mind n-angel

      nuall betha

      blad Banba

      brig búada

      breth bunaid

      brath brethach

      brosna suad

      saeriu crannaib

      clu Gálion

      caemiu dossaib

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