Lora O'Brien's Blog, page 5

The Morrigan's Cave

It's a small, muddy hole in the ground, with a hawthorn tree growing over it, in a field at the end of a narrow lane in the middle of Rathcroghan, County Roscommon, in the western province of Connacht, Ireland. It's called Uaimh na gCat, Oweynagat, The Morrigan's Cave, Cave of the Cats, the Síd ar Cruachan, Rathcroghan Cave, the Entrance to the Otherworld, and, by Medieval Christian Monks - the Gates of Hell.

The challenging entrance is a later addition, a Souterrain put in place some time in the Medieval era, complete with a lintel just inside the entrance with an Ogham Stone, inscribed with the words 'Fraoch, Son of Medb'. The built area forms a tight passage way.

Some way down, it opens into a much larger cavern, in both breadth and height.  For more information on the Morrigan's Cave, contact Rathcroghan Visitor Centre, or just Email Lora Directly with your question.

The Pobal Mailing List is a good source for content and community interaction around this fascinating part of Irish History, Heritage and Spirituality. 

Join Today for your Free Irish Guidance Welcome Pack!

What I did on My Holidays

I could have been really cheesy and called this post 'The Italian Job', but that would be beneath me. Beneath me, I say.

I was very pleased to be invited to speak at the Convegno Nazionale Autunnale Druidismo e Stregoneria in the North of Italy, near the Alps.

I presented a talk on the Morrigan to a crowd of about 40 people, and did a Guided Journey workshop in the afternoon. My translator was wonderful, and worked really hard to get the spirit of the words just right. I took care of the pronunciations in Irish myself, because, in fairness, sometimes even I find those ones tough to get the tongue around.  The following day was a full day workshop in the wonderful Tempio della Luna in Milan - 'Working with the Irish Gods'. It was a tough day, but one that very productive and fruitful, even in the long term I think, for those involved.

I've been asked to consider running a teaching programme for those interested in training towards priesthood with the Morrigan, who is my matron Goddess. It's not something I had planned for myself, but it ties in with the 'Phase 2' work that Herself has been pushing me towards for the last few months. I suppose I'd better give it a go so :-/

Writing Exercises

Presenting 3hr Writing Workshop at Shamrokon. Pic by Barry Kelly I thought I'd have ages of gaps to fill in, but it turns out 70ish slides are plenty for a 3 hour workshop. Who knew?

I did have quite a few writing exercises prepped though, just in case. I recommend writing something every day. Anything. Sometimes I cheat a little, find a ranty post on social media and respond to it, then call that my daily writing practice. 

I'm not fooling anyone, but you get the idea. 

Most days, I write something small just for the practice. And writing prompts or writing exercises are a great way to kick that off. I lifted some of the ones from here for the workshop, and we took 15 mins to just write something.

Some of the lovely workshop attendees shared their work out loud afterwards and wow, I was super impressed. I wanted to do the exercise too (hadn't written anything else that day!), and chose "Write a setting based on the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen". This is what I came up with...
Stretching felt good.

The old bed creaked as she shifted her weight. Must and dust were in the air, but it gave comfort in the familiarity of it all. 

Birds skittered across the flat roof. Possibly, that one was a squirrel. Some sort of scuffle broke out above, the indignant squawking and flapping bringing a smile to her lips as she swung her legs out to the floor.

The carpet was old and worn, and she thought about all the years her Granda had put his feet in exactly the same spot. Sometimes she'd had to cut his toenails, right there. When the gout got bad he couldn't bend. Okay, that was kinda gross, especially when she considered the likely possibility that an old toenail clipping or two lingered in the underbed recesses, given the lack of electricity and a hoover. But it was okay. Kinda comforting actually, in a weird way. He'd been gone a long time, and she missed him.

Opening the bedroom door took some effort - the wood had swollen, or the door hinges dropped, holding the bottom tight against the door saddle. Granda would have fixed that in an hour or less.

The long corridor was mustier, and dark until she flicked the lock and opened the outer door, stepping out onto the wooden verrandah. How many times had she settled there under the porch roof, cuddled in a sleeping bag after hopping out of bed, worm like, to settle in with a book.

How many books had she read, just like that? How many rain showers had she waited out impatiently, squabbling with siblings or cousins until it was clear enough to run out into the damp field all over again?

Wind rustled the leaves above the cottage, trees bending in the protection behind. Sunlight glinted off the lake in the distance, and she knew, as ever in that place, it was gonna be a good day. What are your favourite writing prompts, exercises, or recommendations? 
Leave a comment and let us know!

The Crop Haired Girl

She couldn’t stop jigging.  Peig was trying to brush out her hair, had been trying for a good while now, if truth be told, but every move or noise outside had young Grace turning and twisting, making more tangles in the long brown tresses.  

With comb and bristle Peig was trying to tame the curly mane, but sure it was as wild as the head on which it grew, and the mouth that lived under it.  Arra she may as well be trying to plait the scrubby gorse on the hillside above, for all the taming that she could achieve.

A clatter in the courtyard below had the child hopping up, again, and away before the old hands could get a grab of her.  Peig was sore tempted to just give up and let her run off with that tangled bush atop her skull, but her mother’d be having kittens at seeing her like that, again, and especially on a day that Dubhdara was due home, and away again right after.  Sure the poor man would hardly get time for a dinner before he’d be setting off for Spain on the evening tide.  

The child at the window caught a glimpse somehow through the narrow arrow slit of what she was waiting for, and she hared out across the room before old Peig had even a chance to catch a hold of her.  Dragging back the great oak door, she was out and away, followed only by the dismayed wail of her nursemaid, and with her still tangled mane streaming out behind her.  Somewhere down the hallway, the useless comb dislodged itself and dropped to the flagstone floor in her wake.

She was fast as the wind, but still by the time she scooted down all the steps and corridors of her father’s castle, the men were already inside in the hall with the doors shut.  Shane Mor stood guard outside, and he pretended not to know her when she fetched up in front of him, out of breath and outraged to be kept from her Daddy, here at the last hurdle.  

He wouldn’t let her through until she delivered him a swift kick in the shins for his messing.  Laughing and hopping, he opened the doors so she could barrel across the hall and begin asking her father if she could go to Spain with him.  Surely this time she’d be let.  She knew her way well around the ships, and all the skills she’d need, and it was well past time for her first long journey.

Margaret O’Malley was aghast at seeing the little harpy that hurled itself through the hall to land at the feet of her husband and begin to pester for a sea voyage.  That hair!  Sure she couldn’t do a thing to make a noble lady of her only daughter, but she had to keep trying and that was that.  Scooping the girl up, she ignored the threshing and screaming, and apologised to her husband.  

She carried Grace off, scolding her that girls did not go to sea, not ever, and she’d to go right back to Peig to get her hair dressed and fit for polite company.  She returned to the hall and she scolded her husband too, for indulging the girl and playing on with her flights of fancy.  A girl at sea indeed - sure where did they think they were going with that one?

Dinner was served up and the men fell to eating, talk moved forwards and plans were being made for the Spanish trip.  Then the doors opened again and Shane Mor walked through, and sure they knew something was up because he was supposed to be staying outside, and he couldn’t keep a straight face besides.  He announced the arrival of a new sailor, a crop haired wee thing who he was sure would do well at sea.  

In strutted Grace with her hair all shorn off, and well dressed in boy’s clothes.  That was the day that Grainne Mhaol – ‘Bald Grace’ – earned her first sea journey, and went on to many adventures as the Pirate Queen of Ireland.  But sure, they are all stories for another day.
Did You Like This Story? 
Want to Read More? Please Share with your friends on Facebook and Twitter!
Use the Link:  www.LoraOBrien.com/loras-blog/category/Stories

Dig Deep

Dig Deep. Despite your lack of sleep. 
Despite the promises you strive to keep.

Find Hope. Along that length of rope. 
Use every means you have to stay, to cope.

Walk Tall. When you feel only small. 
When you hear their words, and the names they call.

Look On. All this will soon be gone. 
And you will prove that they were wrong.

Dig Deep. Despite the tears you weep. 
From this land, the strength you need does seep.

I wrote those words exactly 1 year ago today. I was truly struggling with a family issue that dug up my foundations and shit them back at me. Parental Alienation is a thing folks.

I had no idea how I was going to cope til the next day, never mind the next year. I had been giving everything to stay on track, to do the right things, to keep steering the course I knew we had to travel - no matter what they did or said. But I had nothing left.

Wrong. 

I had people who love me, who supported me no matter what. My partner never gave up on me, on us. There were some 'friends' who believed the poison about me, there were even some who gleefully spread it. Whatever. Their loss.

For a while there, my sister rang me every day, and made me choose for the day. Get up, or Give up. (There was an unspoken option 3, but we didn't vocalise that one.)

There are always options, and there's always hope. Everything changes, given time. But family and friends were only able to help because I let them. Because I asked them for help, no matter how guilty, ashamed, and weak that made me feel. That passed, the support stayed.

And now? Relationships have come full circle, stronger than before. I'm here, with my family around me, and we've all moved on. Things change, when you dig deep.

It Gets Better. GET SUPPORT:   Dr. Richard Warshak - 
'Divorce Poison: How to Protect Your Family from Bad-Mouthing and Brainwashing'  Tweet This Post! Share This on Facebook!

Pagan Shops & Crafts in Ireland

Irish Pagan & New Age Shops Irish Heritage Crafts, Strokestown, Co. Roscommon - Books, Incense, Candles & Bog Oak Ogham Pendants.  www.IrishHeritageCrafts.com

Rathcroghan Visitor Centre, Tulsk, Co. Roscommon - excellent academic and spiritual book selection in the craft and gift shop, good events and information point.  www.Rathcroghan.ie

Blue Moon, Portrush, Co. Antrim - www.bluemoonportrush.com

Dervish, Cork City - www.dervishcorkholistics.com
Dervish, Aungier Street, Dublin City - www.dervishdublinholistics.com 

Donall na Gealai, Kildare Town - www.donallnagealai.ie/shop

Yellow Brick Road, Bachelor's Walk, Dublin City - www.yellowbrickroad.ie 

Black Rabbit, Temple Bar, Dublin City - www.theblackrabbit.net

Angelic Companions, Gorey, Co. Wexford -  www.angeliccompanions.com
Irish Pagan Craft & Market Stalls Magic corner at the Galway Market, run by Ted & Tina - www.facebook.com/paganstall.galway
Irish Pagan Crafts People & Online Shops DS Custom Knives: bespoke athames & swords - www.dscustomknives.com

Custom Bog Oak Pendants with Hand Carved Ogham Wishes/Spells. Ethically Sourced Archaeologically dated bog oak (6,000 years old!)  www.IrishHeritageCrafts.com

Irish Apothecary: Supplier of Herbs and Charms - www.facebook.com/urbanholistic

Sibéal, Pagan Artist based in East Clare - www.facebook.com/isabelle.gaborit.artist

Tobar Trua: Shamanaic Drums & Rattles - www.tobartrua.com/
Who Did I Forget? Any Broken Links?
Comment Below and Let Me Know! Share This on Facebook! Tweet This Post!

How to Bake Your Own Irish Soda Bread

Flour. Baking Soda. Buttermilk.

There you go, that's your Irish soda bread recipe. 

Ok, so there MIGHT be a bit more to it than that, but seriously like, nothing a few practice runs won't sort out.

Here's the science bit. I never took a science class in my life mind you, so perhaps this is a garbled science bit. Please keep that in mind.

Soda bread has no yeast (you may know that already), so it needs an alkaline raising agent (bread/baking soda) with an acidic liquid (buttermilk). Sour milk will also work, especially if you throw in some lemon juice too.

You'll need strong plain flour - a mix of wholemeal and white is good, but either is fine - and it's a general rule of about 1 rounded teaspoon of soda per 1lb of flour. Mix em well, and make sure the soda is fresh, not the tub that's been sitting in your press for 5 years.

Sieve the dry stuff together in a big bowl, and then add the buttermilk slowly til you have a squishy consistency, then slop it out on the bench (flour the surface first so it doesn't stick) and bash away at it til it's kneaded through, a little elasticy in texture and dry to the touch.

(For a sweet loaf, add sugar and sultanas with the dry ingredients, even a little cinnamon.)

Then roll it into a smooth round ball, flatten the top and bottom a bit, and take a sharp knife to score a cross in the top, deepest in the middle section, lighter at the edges.

Stick it onto a flat tray, and into the oven (about gas 4 or 5). Check after half hour by sticking a sharp knife or skewer in the middle; if it's not covered in dough then it's definitely getting there. Take it out before it burns.

There ya go. 

Leave to cool, some say leave overnight for a better flavour. I can never wait that long. Serve with real Irish butter, where available - definitely none of that plastic margarine shit anyway. Feel free to share this, and if you make some - Let me know how you get on?

Queen Maeve of Connacht - Part 1

The start of a 3 part series (4 part really, if you include 'A Woman's Place: Queen Medb in Ireland') on the "Celtic" warrior queen of Connacht (yes, that's the correct spelling - 'Connaught' is the later anglicised version).

We'll look at the basics on Maeve - home, family life, relationships, ruling from Rathcroghan, burial, and cultural inspiration she has become.

(Text first published on www.QueenMaeve.org)
"How do you spell that?!" It depends on which version of the Irish (Gaelic) language you are using.

Medb (the Old Irish spelling) – in Middle Irish: Meḋḃ, Meaḋḃ; in early modern Irish: Meadhbh; in reformed modern Irish Méabh, Medbh; sometimes anglicised Maeve, Maev, Meave or Maive (pronounced May-v).
Who was Queen Maeve? Most notably, the warrior queen of Connacht, the western province of Ireland.  

It is said that her father gifted her with Connacht, or Connaught, and no king could rule here unless they were married to Queen Medb.  She had many husbands, and ruled for many years. 

Medb appears in much of the literature of the Ulster saga tales, and our most famous epic literary tale, the Táin Bó Cuailnge (Cattle Raid of Cooley) features her strongly as the protagonist.  Or is that the antagonist...?

Historically, she would have lived sometime around the years 0 - 100AD, if she existed as a real flesh and blood queen.  And that is the question - was she real?  

A queen, or a Goddess of the land?  A priestess of a sovereignty Goddess, who rose to power?  An archetypal figure, representing... what?  These are some of the riddles of Queen Maeve. Share your views in the comments below! Queen Maeve's Family Tree

Meadb of Cruachan, daughter of Eochaid Feidleach, another of Conchobar’s wives, mother of Amalgad, Conchobar’s son, so that Conchobar was Meadb’s first husband, and Meadb forsook Conchobar through pride of mind, and went to Tara, where was the High-King of Ireland. 

The reason that the High-King of Ireland gave these daughters to Conchobar was that it was by Eochaid Feidleach that Fachtna Fathach had fallen in the battle of Lettir-ruad in the Corann, so that it was as his eric these were given to him, together with the forcible seizure of the kingship of Ulster, over Clan Rudraidhe: and the first cause of the stirring up of the Cattle-raid of Cuailnge was the desertion of Conchobar by Meadb against his will.

Excerpt from Medb's Men, or, The Battle of the Boyne
Yellow Book of Lecan, 351b-353a  PARENTS Eochaid Feidleach, Father, High King of Ireland at Tara

Crochen Crobh-Derg, Mother, Handmaid to Etain MAEVE    CHILDREN Maine Athramail
Maine Máthramail
Maine Andoe
Maine Taí
Maine Mórgor
Maine Mílscothach
Maine Móepirt
Findabair Eh... why were all her sons called Maine? Well, they weren't, not originally, but Medb and Ailill did end up with seven sons, all called Maine. 

Back when they all had other names, Medb asked a druid which of her sons would kill Conchobar (king of Ulster), and he replied, "Maine".  A little bit concerned that she didn't have a son called Maine, she decided to rename all her sons as follows:
Fedlimid became Maine Athramail ("like his father")
Cairbre became Maine Máthramail ("like his mother")
Eochaid became Maine Andoe ("the swift")
Fergus became Maine Taí ("the silent")
Cet became Maine Mórgor ("of great duty")
Sin became Maine Mílscothach ("honey-speech")
Dáire became Maine Móepirt ("beyond description")

The prophecy was fulfilled when Maine Andoe went on to kill Conchobar, son of Arthur, son of Bruide — not Conchobar, son of Fachtna Fathach, as Medb had assumed the druid meant.  

Medb and Ailill also had a daughter, Findabair.  She got to keep her own name, but was offered around as a prize during the Táin - Medb was bribing Connacht warriors with marriage to the fine Findabair if they'd go against the Ulster hero CúChulainn in single combat. In Part 2 - Maeve's Mammy & More! Go check out Maeve's home at Rathcroghan, and if you like this, Please Share :-)

Are You Seeking Guidance in Irish Mythology?

Lora at Carnfree, Rathcroghan Let's face it, Irish Mythology is a mess.

A big, complicated, repeating itself, contradicting itself, non-hierarchical, smudgy looking mess.

So, let me help you with a very common question...

Where do I start?! First Steps in Irish Myths & Legends A basic timeline of Irish Mythology is kinda hard to figure in itself, especially since the source material has been made to fit with biblical happenings to keep the bosses happy when the Christian Scribes were working on the material.

Based on Lebor Gabála ('the Book of Occupations/Invasions'), it runs something like this:
Cesair landed in West Munster with her followers, a band of 50 women and 3 men.
Partholon and his followers arrived, fought the Fomorians, and died of Plague.
The Nemedians came from Spain (?), fought the Fomorians, and died of Plague.
The Firbolg came, and divided Ireland into 5 parts (Provinces).
The Tuatha Dé Danaan came, landing their sky ships on the Iron Mountain (in Leitrim).
Tuatha Dé fought the Firbolg (First Battle of Moytura).Tuatha Dé fought the Fomorians (Second Battle of Moytura).The Milesians arrived from Spain, bringing Scota, daughter of a Pharaoh.Eochaidh Feidhleach, father of Queen Medb, is made King (approx 140 BCE).The Táin Bó Cuailgne begins (around the year 1 CE).Conn Céadcathach (of the Hundred Battles) is King, Fionn Mac Cumhail leads Fianna.Cormac Mac Art is King (227 CE).Fionn Mac Cumhail's death (284 CE).Saint Patrick arrives in Ireland as a Bishop (432 CE).Headquarters of the Christian Church in Ireland established at Armagh (444 CE).
You can get a fuller account with dates and other interesting happenings - just click here. Digging Deeper into Irish Mythology There are a few resources that are fantastic for further research, once you've got the timeline a bit straighter in your head.

Chris Thompson and Isolde Carmody are doing amazing, invaluable work with their Story Archaeology Project, featuring discussion, stories, articles and podcasts, much of it based on Isolde's own translations from original sources.

Then look through the Irish Texts in Mary Jones' fabulous Celtic Literature Collective.

If you're still with me over here, and not journeying down an Irish rabbit hole just yet, I've a few posts on the blog here you might like, and always more on the way ;-)

Try 'A Woman's Place: Queen Medb in Ireland', a look at 'The Three Realms in Irish Tradition', and 'The Bull in Irish and Celtic Mythology' - Part 1, Part 2, & the Journeying and Guidance.

All that'll give you a start at least, but if there's anything you particularly want to hear about, just Email or Comment Here and let me know! If you like, Please Share, and Join the Mailing List Community for more like this!

A Woman's Place: Queen Medb in Ireland

‘Celtic’ warrior Queen of Connacht, a sovereignty Goddess, guardian and initiator, with fierce sexual prowess and an arrogance that led her men to downfall. This is the general vernacular perception and discussion of Medb today (according to the author’s daily experience managing the Rathcroghan Visitor Centre), but what is this perception based on?  

This essay will examine references to the Queen Medb character in Irish literary sources, and explore the recorded themes. These are by no means comprehensive listings, but an adequate sampling as space allows for the purposes of a foundational essay. Further research is needed on Medb, and particularly interesting will be that which looks at the social, political, and cultural context in which her tales were recorded, and the influence that Gaelic culture wrought on the character development of the Connacht Queen.

For now though, where does Medb show up in the stories, and what themes are recorded?  She is best known as a character in the ‘Táin Bó Cuailnge’ (Kinsella, 1970), but we see even in the pre-tale ‘How the Bulls were Begotten’, that “the other (maggot) got into the well-spring Garad in Connacht, where a cow belonging to Medb and Ailill drank it”. And in ‘The Adventures of Nera’ (Meyer, 1889), sometimes called ‘Táin Bó Aingen’, the stage is further set, as we see Medb speaking “in the manner of an oath:  I swear by the gods that my people swear by, that I shall not lie down, nor sleep on down or flockbed, nor shall I drink butter-milk nor nurse my side, nor drink red ale nor white, nor shall I taste food, until I see those two kine fighting before my face”.

But before the Táin, what of Medb’s history?  It is soon told. 

During the ‘Pillow Talk’ in ‘Táin Bó Cuailnge’ (O’Rahilley 1970), we hear how she became Queen of Connacht:  “my father was in the high-kingship of Ireland, namely Eochu Feidlech… He had six daughters…  I was the noblest and worthiest of them. I was the most generous of them in bounty and the bestowal of gifts. I was best of them in battle and fight and combat. I had fifteen hundred royal mercenaries of the sons of strangers exiled from their own land and as many of the sons of native freemen within the province... I had these as my standing household’ said Medb, ‘and for that reason my father gave me one of the provinces of Ireland, namely, the province of Crúachu. Whence I am called Medb Chrúachna”. She hasn’t mentioned though that Cruachan was previously ruled by her sister (as stated in ‘Aided Meidbe’, Hull, 1938): “Now Clothru was queen in Cruachu before Medb took the sovereignty; that [was] by force from Eochaid”.

And what of Medb’s family?  It is soon told. 

The aforementioned tale of Medb’s death (Hull, 1938) also records: “The three daughters (of Eochaid Feidlig were) Eithni Uathach… (Eithni the Terrible), namely, she used to eat the flesh of infants so that the children always disliked her to be mentioned, and Medb of Cruachu, and Clothru of Cruachu”. From the ‘Ban-shenchus, The Lore of Women’ (Dobbs, 1930), we learn  “Croind… was the wanton consort of Eochu Feidlech and mother of valiant Medb of Cruachan, (glorious, perverse, extravagant and liberal)… There were six daughters… Mugain, Medb the hazel-kernel, and Lothra, Derbriu, Ethni and beauteous Clothru”. And her children are named as: “The seven Mane were Medb’s great sons, the sons of Ailill who was not jealous. Three other (by whom good poetry was framed) were by Fergus, possessor of wealth. Their names were Ciar, Corc, and Conmac. They were three mighty chiefs in truth. There was Mane Mingor, Mane Morgor, Mane Mathremail who was not slow, Mane Athernail of the lies, Mane Mo Epert, Mane Mor who kept all and Mane Andoe lord of the district”. Her sons are named slightly differently in ‘The  Raid for the Cattle of Regamon’ (Leahy, 1906):  “Maine Morgor (Maine with great filial love), Maine Mingar (Maine with less filial love), Maine Aithremail (Maine like his father), Maine Mathremail (Maine like his mother), Maine Milbel (Maine with the mouth of honey), Maine Moepert (Maine too great to be described), Maine Condageb-uile (Maine who combined all qualities): now this one had the form both of father and mother, and had all the glory that belonged to both parents”.

What of Medb as royal host?  It is soon told. 

In ‘The Exile of the Sons of Uisliu’ the Ulster men “went to Connacht, to Ailill and Medb – not that this was a home for Ulstermen, but that they knew these two would protect them” (Kinsella, 1970). ‘The Battle of Airtech’ (Best, 1916), tells that on the election of a new King, the nobles of Ulster requested Fergus Mac Roch back in the fold, and he left Connacht - despite Medb’s attempted bribery using female slaves - with his wife Flidais, and stayed in Ulster until her death; “after which he went back to Ailill and Medb, for his house-holding in the East was not good after Flidais”. In ‘The Dream of Oengus’ (Gantz, 1981), Dagda brings his lovesick son “to Ailill and Medb, for the girl is in their territory”. The party was welcomed with a week of feasting and drinking, and after an adventure with the Síd dwellers… “This is how the friendship between Ailill and Medb and the Macc Oc (Oengus) arose, and this is why Oengus took three hundred to the Cattle Raid of Cuailnge”. Another Táin, ‘The Raid for Dartaid’s Cattle’ (Leahy, 1906), shows Medb and Ailill summoning a King for a Samhain feast, and he receives aid from the Síd to fit his party in splendour, and impress them in Connacht. In the ‘Cattle Raid of Fraech’ (Leahy, 1906), the hero does such a fine job of the same splendorous fitting out of his party, with the help of the Síd, that sixteen are smothered to death in the crush to view them upon arrival at Cruachan. After feasting for three days and three nights, Fraech must face a monster in a lake to prove his worth to Medb and Ailill, but then they command “a bath of fresh bacon broth be prepared… and bid them with adze and with axe the flesh of a heifer full small to mince: Let the meat be all thrown in the bath, and there for healing let Fraech be laid!", after which “he passed from their sight out of Croghan; For that night from earth was he freed, and he dwelt with his kin, the Síd-Dwellers, in the caverns of Croghan's deep Síd”.

What of Medb’s judgement?  It is soon told. 

In ‘Fled Bricrenn’ (Dillon, 1948), Medb commands “that women go out to meet the (arriving Ulster) warriors, and that beds be made ready and tubs of cold water prepared, so as to appease their frenzy”, then feasts them for three days and three nights, after which she tests them (all of which is reminiscent of Fraech’s visit), when “three ferocious cats from the Cave of Cruachain were set loose against the three warriors”. When Aillil refuses to judge the warriors, she upbraids him for cowardice and does it herself, tricking them each into thinking himself the winner and packing them off home to Ulster. Medb is again seen as a decision maker in the tale of ‘The Battle of Magh Mucrama’ (Stokes, 1892),  when she was counting the pigs that could not be counted – “Medb was in her chariot. One of the pigs jumped across the chariot. ‘That pig is an extra one, Medb’, said everyone. ‘It won’t be this one’, said Medb, seizing the pig’s shank so that its skin split on its forehead and it left the skin in her hand along with the shank and it is not known where they went from that time onwards”;  while in ‘The Colloquy of the Two Sages’ (Stokes 1905), we see brief reference to a poet’s robe being conferred by Medb and Ailill. And again, in ‘The Driving of the Cattle of Flidais’ (Leahy, 1906), when Fergus comes to Ailill with a problem regarding another man’s wife (Flidais) who loves him, Ailill says “we will consider this in counsel with Maev”, who then proposes how they should proceed.

What of Medb’s many lovers?  It is soon told. 

‘The Battle of the Boyne’ (O’Neill, 1905) is also called ‘Medb’s Men’, and tells a long tale of the husbands of Medb, but her husbands end with Ailill, who “assumed the kingship of Connacht thereafter, with the consent of Meadb”. In “The Melodies of Buchet’s House” (Dillon, 1948) there is reference to “Medb of the Red Side, the wife of Art, who took the Kingship (of Kells, the ‘Royal Seat’) after Art’s death, and did not suffer Cormac”. In the ‘Táin Bó Cuailnge’ (O’Rahilly, 1970), we see her demands of a husband are quite high, and why: “… a husband without meanness, without jealousy, without fear. If my husband should be mean, it would not be fitting for us to be together, for I am generous in largesse and the bestowal of gifts… If my husband were timorous, neither would it be fitting for us to be together, for single-handed I am victorious in battles and contests and combats… If the man with whom I should be were jealous, neither would it be fitting, for I was never without a man in the shadow of another”. In ‘The Death of Fergus Mac Róich’ (Meyer 1906), she seems to be having a rather agitative sexual encounter:  “As Fergus entered the lake, all there was of gravel and of stones at the bottom of the lake came to the surface. Then Medb went till she was on the breast of Fergus, with her legs entwined around him, and then he swam around the lake. And jealousy seized Ailill. Then Medb went up”.

So, what of Medb’s womanhood?  It is soon told. 

Her menstrual cycle is noted:  “Then her issue of blood came upon Medb and she said: ‘Fergus, cover the retreat of the men of Ireland that I may pass my water’. ‘By my conscience’ said Fergus, ‘It is ill-timed and it is not right to do so’. ‘Yet I cannot but do so’ said Medb, ‘for I shall not live unless I do’… Medb passed her water and it made three great trenches in each of which a household can fit”. And at the end of it all, even Fergus seems to turn against her:  “‘This day was indeed a fitting one for those who were led by a women’ said Fergus. [untranslated 7 words] said Medb to Fergus… ‘As when a mare goes before her band of foals into unknown territory, with none to lead or counsel them, so this host has perished today’”.

And what of Medb’s death?  It is soon told. 

In ‘Aided Meidbe: The Violent Death of Medb’ (Hull, 1938), “They say indeed that Medb killed her (sister, Clothrú) and that through her side the swords brought forth Furbaide… Medb assumed the kingship of Connaught and took Ailill into sovereignty with her…  Medb happened to be bathing herself early in the morning in the well… "Who is that?" Furbaide asked. "The sister of your mother," all answered. He was eating a piece of cheese. He did not then tarry to seek a stone. He put the piece [of cheese] in the sling. When Medb's forehead was towards them, he let fly the piece [of cheese] and it struck her on the crown of the head so that he killed her by the one cast in vengeance of his mother. That is the death of Medb”.

Have we seen the Medb character here as a warrior, a sovereignty figure representative of the land, a guardian, an initiator, or a sexual and arrogant Queen - as per the surviving vernacular view?  Arguments could be made for Medb representing any of those functions, using the examples above, but this is not the full picture.  Further research is certainly needed to explore whether the character of Medb was written throughout Gaelic culture as an educational tool, or to preserve the details of older beliefs and mythology.  Or, perhaps Queen Medb fulfilled both functions?


Bibliography

Meyer, K. (1906), The Death-Tales of the Ulster Heroes. Dublin: Royal Irish Academy.
Leahy, A.H. (1906), Heroic Romances of Ireland, Vol. II. London: David Nutt.
Dillon, M. (1948), Early Irish Literature.  Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Kinsella, T. (1970), The Táin. New York: Oxford University Press.
O'Rahilly, C. (1970), Táin Bó Cualnge from the Book of Leinster. Dublin.
Gantz, J. (1981) Early Irish Sagas. London: Penguin Books.
Meyer, K. (1889) ‘Echtra Nerai (The Adventures of Nera)’. Revue Celtique, 10: 212-228.
Stokes, W. (1892) ‘The Battle of Mag Mucrime’. Revue Celtique,13: 426-74.
Stokes, W. (1905) ‘The Colloquy of the Two Sages’. Revue Celtique, 26: 4-64.
O’Neill, J. (1905) ‘Cath Boinde’, Eriu, 2:  173-185 (or, Medb’s Men).
Best, R.I. (1916) ‘The Battle of Airtech’, Ériu, 8: 170-190.
Dobbs, M. (1930), ‘The Ban-shenchus’, Revue Celtique, 47: 283-339.
Hull, V. (1938), ‘Aided Meidbe: The Violent Death of Medb’, Speculum, vol. 13 Issue 1: 52-61.  
If you like this, Please Comment & Share!
Join the Mailing List for More Irish Connection