Architecture

Looking Back on 2023: Robert

This is my favourite image of the year! I published a post about the architecture of Bantry Library, and it proved to be our most popular . . . This limited edition print, a collaboration between Dermot Harrington of Cook Architects and Robin Foley of Hurrah Hurrah is celebrating the upcoming 50th Anniversary of the completion of Bantry’s Library in 1974, and some refurbishment work is being undertaken for the occasion. For me, the print captures perfectly the iconic graphic of this most unorthodox design.

We both wrote 52 posts this year, each of around 1,000 words, and all fully illustrated. Above is a pic of one of the penstocks which brings the water into the turbine casings at Ardnacrusha Power Station (courtesy of ESB Archives). This incredible engineering feat – well ahead of its time – was constructed between 1925 and 1929, and was integral to the supply of electricity throughout Ireland’s young state by harnessing water power from The Shannon. West Cork benefitted from Rural Electrification, and I thoroughly enjoyed researching and writing a series of posts on the whole subject.

. . . Once a community was connected, or about to be connected, the ESB held public demonstrations of household appliances. These were then sold bringing electric irons, kettles, stoves to homes. The demonstration evening in Glenamaddy was held in January 1951. The handwritten report records that it took place “in the very fine Esker Ballroom”; these events were social occasions that brought communities together. The Glenamaddy evening “was attended by about 90, including 50 women. As is usual, the women appeared to be more keen than the men and more inclined to ask questions (and to argue). After the demonstration, a melodeon player turned up and an impromptu dance got under way” . . . Small towns and rural townlands became brighter and winters less harsh and Christmas more special as the fairy lights began to shine. It also gave rise to a rural Irish icon as every house had the Sacred Heart picture with the (electric) red lamp (below): many didn’t get a kettle and washing machine until later on . . .

ESB Archives

The whole series on Rural Electrification was written during the summer and can be read through this link: https://roaringwaterjournal.com/tag/electrification-of-ireland/

Since 2018 our own Museum in Ballydehob has been showing exhibitions of the work of locally based artists. This year it was the turn of the Verlings – John and Noelle. John died, sadly, in 2009; Noelle is still alive and kicking and assisted Brian Lalor and myself in assembling an excellent collection of the work of these two creative residents of our village, assisted technically and ably by Stephen Canty. BAM is a really valuable resource in setting out the unique history of the artistic community here in West Cork from the 1950s onwards.

A wonderful photograph (courtesy Geoff Greenham with many thanks) of St Bridget’s Catholic Church in Ballydehob. The interior was reordered by John Verling.

. . . The gold fish hand drawn in the background of the altar and the depiction of one fish swimming against the shoal continues to evoke admiration from locals and visitors alike. He also designed the two ‘windswept thorn’ stained glass windows and etched the brass surround of the tabernacle. The Altar slab, composed of a vast monolith like the capstone of a dolmen, is a distinguished piece of sculpture and a tribute to his imaginative capacity . . .

JOHN VERLING WEBSITE: HTTPS://WWW.JOHNVERLING.COM

There was great drama off the coast of Ballydehob on the night of 22 September 1973, and its 50th anniversary was duly celebrated in Roaringwater Journal!

. . . AS an inspector from the aeronautical section of the Department of Transport and Power arrived in Ballydehob to begin an investigation into Saturday night’s plane crash off the Cork coast, it was learned last night that the pilot of the Piper Cherokee almost lost his life in his efforts to save the other three men on board. Michael Murphy (23), of Mercier Park, Curragh Road, Cork, who was sitting next to the pilot, Eric Hutchins of Ballinlough, Cork, said that Mr Hutchins was concentrating so much on getting the plane down that he was knocked unconscious at impact. Mr Murphy, together with Noel O’Halloran, of St Luke’s, Cork, and James McGarry, of Monkstown, Co Cork, had been braced for the crash and scrambled free on to the wing. But then they found that they could not get out Mr Hutchins who was unconscious. Mr O’Halloran then went back into the rapidly sinking plane and between them they pulled Mr Hutchins free and threw him into the water. The three men then swam ashore taking 40 minutes to reach land at Fylemuck, as they had to support the injured man all the way . . .

IRISH PRESS, MONDAY 24 SEPTEMBER 1973

All four crew and passengers on the plane survived the ditching, but the aircraft itself (a photo taken in its good days, above) was a write-off. Those living locally who remembered the event gathered to mark it in Schull, on the anniversary.

That’s Keith Payne, above. He’s one of the many artists who has lived in West Cork for a significant part of his life – at Leamcon, and he was deservedly given an exhibition in The Blue House Gallery, Schull, in September this year. He has always been fascinated by ‘early markings’, including Rock Art: he contributed dramatically to our own Rock Art exhibition at The Public Museum, Cork, in 2015.

That’s a spectacular large canvas by Keith inspired by Rock Art at Derreenaclogh, West Cork (on the right, above). It’s from an earlier exhibition by Keith in County Clare in 2018, at the Burren College of Art Gallery in Ballyvaughan, Co Clare. The work below is titled Cave Entrance.

Throughout the year I continued to publish posts on some of my favourite subjects: Irish signs, advertising and curiosities. I’m always avidly collecting these, and will have some to show in 2024, for sure. In the meantime, let’s hope our general news becomes more positive as we move forward in this disorienting world of ours . . . Have a good new year, everyone!

And here’s a little PS . . . Way back in January, before I had the idea to write about Rural Electrification in Ireland historically, I penned a post about how I saw Ireland very much at the forefront of harnessing wind power – all at sea. Here it is!

Prince of Peace: A Modern Irish Church

On our travels in Kerry recently, we happened across a striking church building. It’s situated west of Killarney and overlooks Lough Leane: in fact the view of that stretch of water is a principal feature from the interior of the church. An enormous picture window is situated beyond the altar.

I have titled this piece: A Modern Irish Church. Everything is relative, of course: this Fossa Church was completed in 1977, getting on for half a century ago, but one could only fairly describe the style as ‘modern’. It is one of twenty seven ecclesiastical buildings designed by the architectural practices of Liam McCormick (1916-1996). While based in Derry the architects carried out commissions throughout Ireland: the practice of Mullarkey Pedersen Architects, Derry and Dublin, continues their work to this day. My own life experience as an architect – (I carried out a number of church projects) – tempts me to embark on a tour of McCormick’s buildings, many of which are visually dramatic..

The lakeside church was designed to supersede an earlier building – St Lelia’s – which dated from the 1840s. That building remains and is in communal use (above): it is set back from the present site.

Unusually, there is no contemporary stained glass in this building. Instead, the focal point is the central view. I wonder whether this might be a distraction while the priest is in action? It may be that he would always be in silhouette in daylight: there is no means of subduing the window. The church does contain some distinctive artwork, however.

The Stations of the Cross are notable. They are the work of Nell Murphy Pollen (1927-2011). A ceramicist, woodcarver and sculptor, she was a native of New Ross and studied at the Crawford. When I wrote about Knock Shrine a few years ago, I commented on the Stations of the Cross there – describing them as ‘harrowing’ – but I could not find who painted them. I now know that they were produced by Nell and her husband, Patrick Pollen. Here is one:

Perhaps one of the most striking aspects of the church at Fossa is the little Blessed Sacrament Chapel: “. . . a chapel of reconciliation dedicated to the Prince of Peace . . .” This (above) is decorated with murals by Patrick Pye (1929-2018). They are produced in a traditional medium which dates from the time of the early Renaissance, tempera on a gesso ground.

Pye’s tempera/gesso painting Peter receiving The Keys from The Christ – The Blessed Sacrament Chapel, Fossa. Patrick Pye is an artist whose work we have followed, and he will have a post to himself before too long. He was born in Winchester, in Hampshire – a city in which I lived for a while in my younger days, but it is more famous for having been the home and burial place of Saint Swithun, a ninth century Anglo-Saxon Bishop who died in 862 AD – he whose feast day (15 July) traditionally marks either 40 days of fair weather or (more usually) constant rain.

Patrick Pye at the RHA annual exhibition in 2007. Photograph with many thanks to Cyril Byrne.

Above: you will find outside the church a bog-oak sculpture, specially commissioned to commemorate the visit of Pope Francis to Ireland. The carved heart at its centre is designed to offer all married couples and sweethearts the traditional Celtic opportunity to touch hands through the opening to commit to each other.

This little Kerry church is very well endowed with high quality artworks, both inside and outside. The carved altar (and a bench, not shown) is by Imogen Stuart (b1927), while (lower and below) is the tabernacle which we believe is by John Behan (b1938) who is also responsible for the cross outside the window. The tabernacle rests on a carved granite plinth by Michael Biggs. All these artists were longtime collaborators of McCormick’s. A brochure has been produced on the church which would give further information on the furnishings, but we have not yet located a copy.

This special church enjoys such a stunning setting with lough and mountains beyond, and is endowed with very fine artworks: it is well worth turning aside for.

St Michael

For a part of my life I lived in the west of Cornwall, looking out over St Michael’s Mount (above). Back in the 5th century, the Archangel himself appeared to fishermen on that rock. Legend has it that the Mount was constructed by giants and, also, King Arthur battled and defeated a giant there. As you all know, we have just passed Michaelmas – the day of the saint – September 29th.

There is another ‘St Michael’s Mount’ on the coast of Brittany: Mont St Michel (above, from an old lantern slide). I have mixed memories of that place, having gone there on a school trip when I was twelve: I had all my hard-saved pocket money stolen from me in one of the little winding lanes that goes up to the summit. Michael is the patron saint of high places, so expect to find him on pinnacles.

This St Michael’s church is certainly in a high place. It’s at Hammerfest in Norway, and has the distinction of being geographically the highest church in the world! (image by Manxruler)

I asked Finola if there was very much in the way of St Michael imagery in Irish stained glass. There’s a fair bit: on the left, above, is a Watsons of Youghal image of the Archangel in his role as weigher of souls. He stands at the gates of Heaven waiting for you on Judgment Day with his scales in his hand. Often, beside him, angels hold up two books: the smaller one records the names of the blessed, while the larger book is a list of the damned… On the right is our friend George Walsh’s depiction of Michael defeating Satan, who here takes the form of an impressive dragon.

This St Michael is very local to us: it’s in Teampall Church at Toormore, and is by Clokey of Belfast (Finola’s photo). Look carefully and you’ll see the Saint pinning down the fire-breathing Devil.

Also in my distant youth I was an ephemeral chaser of ley-lines: I have since thought better of it, but the idea of a straight line starting in Ireland and connecting seven St Michael sites while traversing Europe and Greece was attractive, and fleetingly convincing. Of course, there are many more Michael sites scattered around the Christian world which don’t fall anywhere near this line.

. . . As with other ley lines, no scientific evidence indicates that the alignment was planned and meaningful, making the claim pseudoscientific, but commonly reported at these sites. Physicist Luca Amendola noted that the deviation of these sites from the loxodrome that allegedly connects them ranges between 14 km and 42 km. According to legend the Sacred Line of Saint Michael the Archangel represents the blow the Saint inflicted the Devil, sending him to hell. Some also say that it is a reminder from Saint Michael that the faithful are expected to be righteous, walking the straight path . . .

Wikipedia

It’s nice to see that the phenomenon starts (or finishes) at Skellig Micheal, off the coast of Kerry (pic below courtesy of OPW):

Here’s an interesting view of the three somewhat feminine Archangels painted by Francesco Botticini in 1470. Michael is on the left. With them is Tobias who, in the popular Biblical tale, overcomes obstacles as he and his heavenly guardians set out to discover a cure for his father Tobit’s blindness. They are successful, for Tobias returns with a cure for his father as well as a wife!

I couldn’t resist this wonderful image of a St Michael’s site (from Wikipedia). It is the tenth-century Sacra di San Michele on Mount Pirchiriano in Italy. It also happens to be on the Saint’s ley-line!

I’ll finish this little review of St Michael where I started – off the coast of Cornwall. This 1920s postcard of the Mount, from a painting by A R Quinton, sums up the romantic image which I still carry from my days lived on that coast.

Bantry Library

In last week’s post I described a unique type of boat that was connected with Bantry, here in West Cork. Today we are also focussed on Bantry, but this time on architecture: the Public Library, which is one of the most unusual and innovative buildings from twentieth century Ireland.

Here is the building as we see it today. The header is a limited edition print, a collaboration between Dermot Harrington of Cook Architects and Robin Foley of Hurrah Hurrah celebrating the upcoming 50th Anniversary of the completion of Bantry Library in 1974. For me, the print captures perfectly the iconic graphic of this most unorthodox design.

The Library was conceived by Patrick McSweeney (above) – Cork County Architect between 1953 and 1975. He deserves a post of his own one day, as he was responsible for some outstanding buildings in the county. Two of his assistants in the Architect’s Department at the time were Brian Lalor and John Verling. Both had a hand in the genesis of the Library. Interestingly for us, McSweeney, Lalor and Verling were all living around Ballydehob in those days – it was a swinging village!

In the era before computers were universal in architects’ offices, everything was drawn by hand – or modelled. Brian recalls that Pat (McSweeney) called him into the office one day, handed him cardboard, tape and scissors, and instructed him to make a model of a building shaped like a Bronze Age dolmen. And he wanted it made in a hurry! It could well have been the one shown above – which still exists. Remarkably, although this model was made in the early 1960s, the building that resulted in the 1970s was very similar in form. Later, John Verling produced a balsa-wood model upon which the design production drawings were based:

That’s John Verling, above, with his model. He and his wife, Noelle, are the subjects of the current exhibition in the Ballydehob Arts Museum (click the link). Following are some of the design sketches carried out by Harry Wallace who was leading the team in County Hall, and detailed drawings of the building that eventually ensued.

Let’s look a bit further at the early concept work, especially that first model. It’s said that McSweeney was inspired by a ‘Dolmen’. In fact we would today call that type of early megalithic structure a ‘Wedge Tomb’ or a ‘Portal Tomb’. At its simplest, this is a large flat stone slab (or slabs) supported on vertical stone slabs: it was probably a burial chamber, perhaps with its opening facing the sunset at a particular solar event. The closest such tomb structure to Ballydehob is the one featured in Finola’s post today. I wonder if Pat McSweeney was aware of this local one? He would have certainly been aware of the striking example at Altar, further west on the Mizen Pensinsula.

Another view of that very early model demonstrates how the roof shape echoes the lines of a portal tomb slab: look at this further example from the Mizen, at Arderawinny:

Returning to the twentieth century, and the Bantry Library project, construction posed many problems, using techniques which might have been considered at the leading edge of architecture in its time and place. Across the sea similar experiments were taking place. I was at the centre of them! I completed my architectural education in the late 1960s and went to work for the Greater London Council. I saw going up around me on the South Bank of the Thames a development which included the Hayward Gallery (below): its design (described as ‘brutalist’), earned it the nomination of the ugliest building in Britain when it opened!

Larger in scale, this complex exhibits some of the features we see in Bantry: shutter-marked mass concrete, frameless glazing, bold overhanging roof planes… The Library roof cantilevers six metres in one part of the building.

The status of this building as an unique example of modernist architecture in Ireland has recently been recognised with a Heritage Council grant of over €250,000 to carry out refurbishments to some of the major elements.

. . . As Bantry Library approaches its 50th anniversary, we are committed to safeguarding this important building. As a protected structure within an Architectural Conservation Area, Cork County Council recognizes its responsibility to preserve and protect Bantry Library for future generations. The conservation works will take place during 2023, and we look forward to seeing the library restored to its former glory . . .

Tim Lucey, Chief Executive, Cork County Council

A Heritage Week talk was given by Dermot Harrington of Cook Architects at the Library (below). It was a most informative review of the building and its history.

Most of the original features of the building have survived in reasonable order. I was impressed with the ‘pipe lights’ which draw daylight down into the centre of the main room:

We also learned about the complexity of the building construction, and saw photographs of the steel reinforcement and board shuttering from fifty years ago:

Dermot Harrington pointed out that the building was effectively put together by only five men, under foreman Gerry O’Sullivan, who was just 27 years old. Neither he or any of the other crew had ever tackled anything like this before!

The Library is central to the life of the town, and still serves its original purpose. It’s eye-catching (perhaps sensational is a good word?) and very much alive and relevant. We look forward to the completion of the current works, and suitable festivities to mark the fiftieth birthday of this creative West Cork project.

Thank you to the Library for the information they provided and the display boards that are currently on show. Many of my illustrations are taken from these resources

Nelson’s Arch

This is the inlet at Castlehaven, looking towards Castletownshend. It’s a peaceful scene. Finola and I were in the village at the weekend, showing groups around the church and the graveyard: it was a West Cork History Festival event. Very recently, I came across a reference to a structure that used to stand looking over this inlet: it was known as Nelson’s Arch. Here’s a watercolour print dating from the early nineteenth century . . .

It looks like part of a ruined building. In fact, this is how it appeared when built! It’s a folly, but with a purpose. It commemorated the death of Britain’s Admiral Nelson, and the defeat of the French fleet at the Battle of trafalgar in 1805. Dennis Kennedy researched the arch and wrote an article about it for History Ireland, in January 2016. here’s a brief extract:

This arch . . . was the first monument erected anywhere in the world to the victor of Trafalgar, Admiral Lord Nelson. It was completed twenty days after the battle, and less than a week after the first news of it reached these islands. The artist, and the builder, was Captain Joshua Rowley Watson RN, then stationed in Castletownshend as the naval officer in command of a large force of Irish Sea Fencibles defending that section of the west Cork coastline against possible French invasion. On hearing of the victory at Trafalgar and the death of Nelson, Captain Watson designed and built, in one day, the rough stone arch . . .

Dennis kennedy, History Ireland Issue 1, Volume 24

I can’t tell you for sure where this arch was constructed, only that it ‘looked out over the harbour at Castletownshend’. I am speculating that the site was where I have indicated in the above aerial view. My reason for suggesting this is that is an old archaeological record shown on the earliest Ordnance Survey maps states that ‘a structure’ existed at this spot. Evidently a plaque (now lost) was placed on the ‘structure’ setting out its origin:

. . . This arch, the first monument erected to the memory of Nelson after the battle of Trafalgar, was sketched and planned by Captain Joshua Rowley Watson RN, and built by him and twelve hundred of the Sea Fencibles then under his command (assisted by eight masons). It was erected in five hours on the 10th of November 1805 . . .

Dennis kennedy, History Ireland Issue 1, Volume 24

The idea of twelve hundred men – and eight masons – building this structure is hard to ponder. The Battle of Trafalgar took place on 21 October 1805. Subsequently, of course, two further notable monuments to Nelson were erected: the column in Trafalgar Square, London, was completed in 1843 to a design by the architect William Railton at a cost of £47,000. It’s still standing, guarded by its four bronze lions, which were added by Sir Edward Landseer in 1867. Its height (to the tip of Nelson’s hat!) is 51.59 metres. But Dublin City Centre also had a Nelson’s ‘column’:

This structure in today’s O’Connell Street was made by Cork sculptor Thomas Kirk. From its opening on 29 October 1809 the 40.9 metre high Pillar was a popular visitor attraction, as it contained a staircase which could be climbed by the public, and which provided a wide view over the city centre. The London column – built from Dartmoor granite – was never provided with a staircase, but it’s a ‘must-see’ tourist destination. It’s actually the only extant monument to Nelson: having survived the rising on Easter Monday, 24 April 1916 – when the nearby General Post Office was reduced to a burnt-out shell, (below) – Dublin’s Pillar succumbed to an attack – probably by dissident volunteers – on 8 March 1966 . . .

In the early hours of a Tuesday morning, a powerful explosion destroyed the upper portion of the Pillar and brought Nelson’s statue crashing to the ground amid hundreds of tons of rubble. An IRA spokesman denied involvement, stating that they had no interest in demolishing mere symbols of foreign domination: “We are interested in the destruction of the domination itself” (quote from the Irish Independent newspaper). According to Kennedy’s History Ireland article, our Nelson’s Arch at Castletownshend suffered a similar fate only a few days later, in March 1966. There must be many West Cork residents who remember the arch when it stood (and when it fell). I have only managed to find the photograph that Kennedy used in his piece:

Compare this with the watercolour sketch: it obviously survived virtually unchanged during its lifetime of 161 years. To my knowledge no-one has laid claim to destroying the structure. But the motivation – disgruntlement at a brazen symbol of British imperialism – was undoubtedly the same as the Dublin Pillar destruction. If anyone is able to provide further information on the life and death of Nelson’s Arch, Castletownshend, we would be delighted to add it here.

Péacáin Revisited

This was the scene in the Working Artist Studios, Ballydehob, on Friday evening. It was the launch of a brand new book by our friend Amanda Clarke: Holy Wells of County Cork. That’s Amanda, above, in the centre, with Finola on her left. Regular readers will know that we share many adventures with Amanda and Peter, and we were so pleased to see the successful fruition of her years of research with this outstanding volume, exquisitely designed by Peter, now available to purchase online, and in bookshops. Finola wrote about this venture last week. I thought I would indirectly celebrate it today by reviving a Roaringwater Journal post from five years ago, about one of our own expeditions that included a visit to a holy well.

Once again we followed in the footsteps of Amanda and Peter: they had visited the Glen of Aherlow in County Tipperary and pointed us to St Berrehert’s extraordinary site at Ardane which I described in this post. Not far away is another site, equally remarkable, and related to St Berrehert’s Kyle in that they were both restored by the Office of Public Works in the 1940s. They are also both very easily accessible in a few minutes from the M8 motorway at Cahir.

We were delighted to be travelling again through the beautiful Glen in the shadow of the Galtee Mountains (above) as we searched out a boreen that led us down to the railway. We parked and crossed at the gate, watching out carefully as this is the Waterford to Limerick Junction line used by two trains a day (except on Sundays!)

Once across, we were in an idyll. It’s a private lane, running alongside a gentle stream, but the Bourke family allow visitors to walk (as they have done for centuries) to the old church, the cell and the holy well of Saint Péacáin. Ancient stone walls line the way, and trees overhang, shading the dappled sunlight in this most exceptional of Irish seasons. We met Bill Bourke, who regaled us with tales of his life spent mostly far away from this, his birthplace – but who returned to rebuild the family home and to enjoy perpetual summer in what is, for him, the most beautiful setting in the world. He also told us of the crowds who used to come to celebrate St Péacáin at Lughnasa – 1st August – paying the rounds and saying the masses.

In her monumental work (it runs to over 700 pages) The Festival of Lughnasa – Oxford University Press 1962 – Máire MacNeill points out the harvest feast day was such an important ancient celebration that it survives as the focus of veneration of many local saints who would otherwise have been known for their own patron day, and she particularly mentions Tobar Phéacáin in this regard: a place well away from any large settlement where the great agricultural festival was so critical to the cycle of rural life.

The rural setting of St Péacáin’s Cell can be seen above, just in front of the trees; the church and the well are nearby. MacNeill provides a description of Tobar Phéacáin and includes some variant names:

. . . Tobar Phéacáin (Peakaun’s Well), Glen of Aherlow, Barony of Clanwilliam, Parish of Killardry, Townland of Toureen . . . On the northern slope of the Galtee Mountain at the entrance to the Glen of Aherlow and about three or four miles north-west of Caher there is a well and ruin of a small church. About a mile beyond Kilmoyler Cross Roads a path leads up to it . . . In 1840 O’Keefe, of the Ordnance Survey team, reported that the old church was called by the people Teampuillin Phéacáin, or just Péacán . . .

. . . The well, which he described as lying a few perches south-east of the church was called Peacan’s Well or Tobar Phéacáin. It was surrounded by a circular ring of stonework. He stated: ‘The pattern-day still observed at this place falls on the 1st of August, which day is, or at least until a few years since, has been kept as a strict holiday.’ Devotions were also, he said, performed there on Good Friday . . .

A hundred years after O’Keefe wrote this, the church ruins were tidied up by the Office of Public Works. As at St Berrehert’s Kyle, it seems there were numerous carved slabs on the site and remnants of high crosses, implying a significant ecclesiastical presence here. All these have been fixed in and around the church ruin for safekeeping, and in an intelligent grouping. It’s wonderful to be able to see such treasures in the place they were (presumably) made for, and to experience them in such a remote and peaceful ambience.

McNeill continues:

. . . Nearby is the shaft of a cross which tradition avers was broken in malice by a mason who was then stricken with an inward pain and died suddenly as a punishment for his sacrilege . . . O’Keefe was told a story of a small stone, 6 or 7 inches long and 4 or 5 in depth, having ten little hollows in it and resting in a hollow of the ‘altar’ of the old church. Christ, or according to others St Péacán, asked a woman, who had been churning, for some butter; she denied having any and when the visitor departed she found the butter had turned into stone which retained the impression of her fingers . . . Nuttall-Smith speaks also of a cave where the saint used to practice austerities . . .

The carved fragments are quite remarkable and are in all likelihood well over a thousand years old. I have yet to see anywhere in Ireland – outside of museums – which has such an extensive collection of fascinating medieval antiquities as these sites in the Glen of Aherlow. Here you can also see cross slabs and a sundial said to date from the eighth century.

Nuttall-Smith’s ‘cave’ – quoted by MacNeill above – is likely to be St Péacáin’s Cell, set in a field on the far side of the river. This was probably a clochán, or beehive-hut, of the type once used by anchorites. It is protected by a whitethorn tree, but was quite heavily overgrown on the day of our visit. We could make out the ballaun stones inside, said to be the knee prints of the Saint who made his constant devotions there. Amanda – in her post on the holy well – reports that Péacáin would also stand daily with arms outstretched against a stone cross, chanting the psalter.

McNeill discusses the significance of weather at the August celebrations:

. . . Paradoxically for a day of outing so fondly remembered, no tradition of the Lughnasa festival is stronger than that which says that it is nearly always rainy. No doubt this has been only too often experienced. Saint Patrick’s words to the Dési: ‘Bid frossaig far ndála co bráth’ (Your meetings shall always be showery) must be as well proved a prophecy as was ever made. Still there must be more significance in the weather beliefs than dampened observation. Certainly it was expected that rain should fall on that day, and sayings vary as to whether that was a good or bad sign . . . There are a few interesting beliefs about thunder, which was also expected on that day: the loud noise heard at Tristia when the woman made rounds there to have her jealous husband’s affection restored; the prophecy that no-one would be injured by lightning at Doonfeeny, a promise also made by St Péacán . . .

The holy well is tucked away in a stone-walled enclosure hidden under the trees on the edge of the field which contains the Saint’s cell. It is also a tranquil place, obviously still much visited: the water is crystal clear, refreshing and will ensure protection from burns and drowning.  This is a magical setting to complete our day’s travels in the beautiful Glen of Aherlow.