The Protection of Brigid - making the three-armed Brigid’s Cross.

Across the island the most widespread custom associated with Brigid on the eve of Lá Fhéile Bríde, Brigid’s Feast Day, was the making of the Cros or Bogha Bríde, Brigid’s Cross. 

Hung in the home, often above the door or hearth, in the cattle byre and in the stable, the crosses were made to honour Brigid and to protect against “fire, storm, lightning, illness and epidemic” throughout the year.

The many forms of Brigid’s Cross displayed in Kildare.

Today the four-armed cross is the most well known, woven by pagans and christians to celebrate Brigid’s Day and Imbolg. 

Brighid’s Crosses made from straw.

The three-armed cross, reminiscent of the triskele and the Legs of Manannán, is the form of cross 

I make to hang above the threshold of my studio.

The Legs of Mann created by WILLOW MANN on the Isle of Man.

For many this design represents the goddess Brigid as Brigid of Healing, Brigid of Poetry and 

Brigid of Smithcraft, as well as her associations to Fire,

Brigid's Eternal Flame - public sculpture Kildare.

Sacred Wells, 

Brigid's Well, Kildare.
Read more about my visit to Kildare HERE

And the Land.

Croghan Hill, Co. Offaly.

Legend tells that Brigid had her smithy beneath the hill.
Read more about Croghan Hill HERE

Brigid’s triple armed cross is simple and quick to make, only requiring reeds / rushes, ribbon or wool and scissors.

The Common Rush, Luachra, which grows in moist areas is commonly used to make crosses.
Rushes (also known as reeds) or straw left over from making the Brigid's Cross was thought to
have curative powers, when tied around a sore limb or head and left on overnight.
The following morning the rushes were burnt to complete the cure.

Photo: www.plants rescue.com

Gathering rushes in the Lough Field.

Firstly collect your rushes choosing the thickest you can find, preferably on Brigid’s Eve,
31st January.

Traditionally, in some areas, it was the job of the man of the house to gather the rushes, although across the island making the Brigid’s Cross was usually the domain of women and girls.

Custom dictated that the rushes should be pulled out of the earth, however many people 

today prefer to cut the reeds close to the ground, leaving the roots in tact.

If reeds or rushes are not to be found use straw, pliable willow withies or pipe cleaners. 

Crosses made from straw, rushes and willow withies.

1 Begin to make your Brigid's Cross by picking two sturdy rushes and fold one in half across the other, forming a T shape. 

2 Hold firmly at the centre so that the cross remains intact then gently bend the horizontal rush 1.

3 Fold a third rush in half & place around reed 2 so that it lies next to rush 1.

Rotate the cross, holding firmly onto the rush you have just added.

5 Take another, fold and place around rush 4. Hold this recently added rush and rotate again. 

6 By now you will have a triangle forming at the centre.

7 Continue adding rushes, always holding firmly and rotating the cross before adding the next one.

8 Your cross will look like this and you can add as many rushes as you wish.

9 When you've added enough rushes ‘lock’ the final rush in place by gently easing out the loop of the nearest rush. 

Place the ends of the new rush through this loop then push the loop back into place. 

Make sure to hold firmly using your thumb to grip the centre.

10 To finish - start with the last arm you ‘locked’ and tie the ends securely with wool, ribbon 

or a strong rushes. Finish the other two arms in the same way.

11 Cut the rushes to neaten the ends or leave natural.

You have now completed your three-armed Brigid’s Cross.

Place above the threshold of your home. 

May it bring you the blessings of Brigid 

and her protection throughout the year.

Searching for Brigid’s Well.

My older post on making Brigid's crosses HERE

Brigid’s Eve draws nearer and with thoughts of making crosses, I wandered down to the Lough Field to look at the reeds. 

Standing alone in this quiet place a phrase, spoken by a Donegal Seanchaí, came to mind:

“ There were two St Brigids.

There was St Brigid up in Kildare, but this is the Brigid from this place.”

This set me wondering about the Brigid who walks the land locally and who is remembered here in stories of stones, wells and small offerings. 

Stone by the roadside in Killeigh.

A local story relates that Brigid rested and left the imprint of her leg upon the stone.

St. Brigid’s Well, Rosenallis.

The saint is believed to have founded a church here and blessed the spring well.

Coins and white quartz at the well.

Brigid’s Cross made from reeds.

The old custom here was to make the cross from oak twigs, 

bind it with reeds and place it in the thatch for protection. 

St. Brigid was believed to have been born in Doire Aircean, Derryarkin, on the bog north of 

Croghan Hill, Co. Offaly and Brigid Begoibne, Brigid the Smith, had her workshop beneath the Hill. 

Another Brigid, not of fire but of healing waters, had a sacred well which flowed from Croghan.

In the distant past Croghan Hill emerged as an island from the surrounding lakes, a sacred place where water, earth and sky met. 

Map showing the Hill and bogland today.

A place where legends of the pagan goddess and saint intertwined. 

The Hill, reminiscent of a breast, appears to have long been a place of the sacred feminine.

The old name for the Hill is Cruachán Bri Éile, the prominent hill of Éile, an elusive mythological woman or goddess who was sister to Queen Maeve.

One source tells that the River Shannon erupted from a well, known as Linn Mna Feile, 

'the Pool of the Modest Woman’, sacred to Éile, found beneath Croghan. 

Several sacred wells were associated with the hill, some visible on old maps, though all but one are now lost. 

Only two old names were recorded Fuarán Well and Finneenashark Well, which cured headaches 

and was accompanied by an ancient Ash tree. 

With Lá Fhéile Bríde approaching I decided visit Croghan to search for clues to the whereabouts of
Brigid’s sacred well.

The Bronze Age mound upon the summit has never been excavated but is thought to contain 

the remains of Éile and her chariot. 

In local folklore it opens at Samhain, leading into the hollow hill and the Otherworld. 

Could this be the site of the elusive Well?

Croghan village.

I found the small village of Croghan and drove up the hill to view the site of St. Maccaille’s church, founded around 465 AD, and the remains of the cemetery.

In Christian lore it was here, at the hands of Maccaille, Bishop of Croghan, that St. Brigid received the veil.

Perched high on the hillside it is easy to imagine that the church was built here to claim the site 

from its’ pagan predecessors and proclaim the new religion.

A sacred well with a tree, seen in the illustration below, stood in the graveyard. 

This well was named for St. Maccaille, it’s older name unrecorded. 

Illustration via:  http://omniumsanctorumhiberniae.blogspot.ie/2013/04/saint-maccaille-of-croghan-april-25.html

 Did this well once belong Brigid ?

As the sky darkened I drove to the other side of the hill, to Glenmore, considered to be the place where earlier pagan veneration took place.  

Once a forested glen, three springs formerly emerged here from the rock of Croghan Hill, two of which rose beneath an ancient Ash tree.

My plan was to walk the land hereabouts looking for evidence of wells or bullaun stones, although 

I knew that two of the wells had long become dry. 

Driving uphill was fine until I approached the glen itself when the track became impassable by small car or even booted feet.

On a previous visit I had found the well, now dedicated to St. Patrick, 

although Brigid is still remembered here with fiery tinsel and a Brigid's Eye.

The older name for Patrick’s well is not recorded but like many other legendary Holy Wells, 

the water here will never boil and any stone taken from the site will return of its’ own accord. 

Disappointed I descended the Hill and stopped to look around the modern church of St. Brigid.
There was no sign nor information about her well but I did find a small stained glass panel of her.

Brigid holds her woven cross aloft in St. Brigid’s Church, Croghan.

My final glance at Croghan Hill was through dark, bare branches. 

I felt my way to Brigid’s Well was barred by too many changes or perhaps it had never existed at all.

Back home, by the fire, I dug deeper into an old book to discover that Brigid’s Well could once be found on the summit of Croghan, the exact location long forgotten. Her spring may even have been part of the mound's sacred space as it was in the passage tomb at Newgrange.

The story warned that if her well was ever discovered again the water would rise up violently to drown the cattle which graze upon its’ slopes, so it seemed fortunate that my search was fruitless.

***

When I closed my eyes that night images of the womanly hill appeared. 

Drifting towards sleep her well formed from the darkness, surrounded by ancient stones, shaded
by twisted branches, offering healing, reflection and respite from the modern world.

At the Sacred Well.

Brigid’s Well still flows within the Otherworld. 

The Many Coloured Land.

Yesterday, as daylight dwindled, I was sitting by the stove re-reading AE’s book

‘The Candle of Vision’ when my mind returned to the start of this year. 

I began 2016 here with a post dedicated to George William Russell, AE. 

His writing continued to inspire me through the bleak days of winter and later led me to seek out the Many Coloured Land, places of vision and creative power within myself and the landscape of Ireland.   

To read - Æ, artist & mystic - 

“And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.” LINK HERE

This January was icy but as daylight slowly grew I made preparations to honour Brigid on the Eve of her festival.

The cross was woven and set above the door. 

The brát was placed on the windowsill to catch her blessing as she emerged from nearby 

Croghan Hill, to walk the land. 

To read - "Brighid returns from the Otherworld" LINK HERE

The long desired greening had began by the time I travelled to Kildare, home of her eternal flame. 

Her fire pit held evidence of ritual 

and at Brigid’s Well I felt the rising of the year.

To read - "The promised Spring arrives" LINK HERE

In hindsight I now understand that water has flowed throughout my year. 

Visits to rivers, lakes, bogs and sacred wells have inspired me and strengthened my connection to the spirits of the land. 

I see now that it really began on the shores of Lough Gur, sacred to the goddess Áine. 

To read - LOUGH GUR - “a personality loved, but also feared.”

LINK HERE

Then on morning walks to my local river I spied white blossom on dark limbs.

The blackthorn blazed like pale spirits across the country.

To read "Blackthorn, dark sister of the May" LINK HERE

Pale primroses peeped from beneath hedges and gold glinted in the fields.

Bealtaine came nearer. I welcomed summer on May Eve in the old way by decorating a May bush 

and lighting a bonfire at twilight. 

To read - "The May bush ribbons dance as the Fairy Host pass by" LINK HERE

As the land brought forth her flowers and the sun stretched the evenings

I felt a strong pull towards water, the west and Irelands’ many sacred wells. 

To read - "Sacred water and three thousand Holy Wells" LINK HERE

To read - "By Stone, Whitethorn and Well" LINK HERE

One well in particular, Rathin Well in Co. Clare, was to connect me to a deep sorrow still felt
by many communities.

To read - "In silent need they searched for Holy ground" LINK HERE

The year turned towards harvest but water still drew me to loughs 

To read - "Lughnasa, loughs and a last salute to Summer." LINK HERE

and the dark bog spirits of the Midlands.

To read - "Dark Spirits of the Bog" LINK HERE

There were places where the Otherworld felt close

To read - "The Burren: Land of the Fertile Rock" LINK HERE

and a morning when I stepped into The Silence.

To read - "Otherworld Shenanigans: The Silence" LINK HERE

Throughout this years’ adventures The Cailleach, the Old Woman, has been close by.

She has threaded her way through images.

To read - "The Cailleach - Hag of the Mill & Mother of the Herd" LINK HERE

And words. 

To read - "A Samhain Story - The Lament of the Old Woman" LINK HERE

As I prepare to celebrate the birth of a new year she whispers in my ear -

“ There is more, much more yet to come. You have merely glimpsed the Many Coloured Land.” 

Outside The Cailleach traces frost upon the leaves but I know she has already planted 

the seeds of next years’ adventures.

Many thanks to you all for reading, following and commenting on this blog. 

May your New Year be filled with good food, good health & good company!