Turas agus Snamh agus Comhrá: three wells in Castlehaven parish

Enjoying a wonderful run of summery weather and invitations to view wells coming in thick and fast, I have spent just two days in the Castlehaven/Toe Head area revisiting a trio of holy wells.

St Bartholomew’s Well, Tobar Bearcháin, Castlehaven

Reading through the Southern Star I came across an article about Gormú, the brainchild of Conor Ó Buachalla. Fascinated by local history, in particular place names and folklore, he has curated a set of explorations around Castlehaven with a view to raising awareness about local history combined with a lot of fun. You can walk, run, cycle and even swim. I was immediately drawn to the Dawn Pilgrimage and Swim – a visit to a holy well followed by a sea swim, what’s not to love! I shortly found myself shell shocked and blurry eyed at 7am on a Sunday morning in Castlehaven, an incredibly scenic spot accessed by a truly torturous, pot-holed boreen which basically ends at the sea. It was looking stunning.

The ruins of St Barrhane’s church, still in use until the early 18th century, glowed honey-coloured in the morning light.

Conor, his wife Celine, his daughter and two friends were my fellow pilgrims. The sun shone, the air was fresh and the colours zinging as Conor led the way into the Glen. The original name for the area is Gleann Bearcháin – Bearcháin, usually anglised to Barrahane, being the name of the local saint whose well we were about to visit. Conor explained that the path leading to the well, Tobar Bearcháin, was an ancient one and a small metal gate offered a portal into the green.

As we approached the well, accessed over a small wooden bridge, Conor outlined a little of the history.

St Bearcháin was probably a very local man, living sometime in the early 7th century. Conor described him as a green martyr, an expression I hadn’t heard before. Traditionally early saints were individuals who had been martyred for their faith, red martyrs, but when Christianity arrived in Ireland it was generally accepted without bloodshed. A different route to sainthood had to be achieved and this was done through austere, spiritual living combined with mental and physical tests of endurance. As we stood at the well, Conor read Seamus Heaney’s poem St Kevin and the Blackbird, describing how the saint, who had lived the life of a hermit in Glendalough, would frequently put himself in stress positions. On one occasion, as he stood arms outstretched, a blackbird landed in his hand and laid an egg. Kevin remained motionless until the hatchling emerged.

And then there was St Kevin and the blackbird.
The saint is kneeling, arms stretched out, inside
His cell, but the cell is narrow, so

One turned-up palm is out the window, stiff
As a crossbeam, when a blackbird lands
And lays in it and settles down to nest.

Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked
Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked
Into the network of eternal life,

Is moved to pity: now he must hold his hand
Like a branch out in the sun and rain for weeks
Until the young are hatched and fledged and flown.

And since the whole thing’s imagined anyhow,
Imagine being Kevin. Which is he?

Self-forgetful or in agony all the time

From the neck on out down through his hurting forearms?
Are his fingers sleeping? Does he still feel his knees?
Or has the shut-eyed blank of underearth

Crept up through him? Is there distance in his head?
Alone and mirrored clear in love’s deep river,
‘To labour and not to seek reward,’ he prays,

A prayer his body makes entirely
For he has forgotten self, forgotten bird
And on the riverbank forgotten the river’s name.

St Kevin & the Blackbird, Seamus Heaney

I had thought of this poem when visiting St Kevin’s Well and had asked permission to use this beautiful illustration by Clive Hicks Jenkins, again appropriate here.

Conor talked about the importance of local saints to the area. He imagined Bearcháin as a very local man, one that people knew and admired, a member of the clan who clearly understood their needs and worries – someone who knew the individual fields, the importance of the sea, the way of life. This made him the perfect intermediary between them and the higher power. Bearcháin’s importance to local people has endured. The well is still visited by fishermen before they set out to sea, hoping that a prayer made here or a bottle of well water collected might offer protection on their voyages. The buoy and length of fishing rope are poignant confirmation.

We took it in turns to visit the well – a small clear pool surrounded by lush foliage.

As well as offering protection to seamen, it holds a cure for sore eyes and fevers of the stomach. Its other name is Tobarín na Súile, Little Well of the Eyes, and it’s traditional to make the sign of the cross before taking the water. St Bearcháin’s feast day is 3rd December and local sea swimmers continue to enjoy a dip on this day then wend their way to the well in thanksgiving.

We walked back through the leafy glen marvelling as the light streamed through the gigantic gunnera and palms (planted much later) then prepared for the swim.

Safety buoys attached we plunged into the crystal clear azure waters of Cuan an Caisleán and gently swam out to Faill Dic – a rock loved by nesting sea birds and red valerian. We touched it in turn then swam back to the shore where breakfast awaited us. Never has a steaming cuppa and porridge tasted so good! As we chomped and warmed up Conor told us more stories of the deceptively tranquil harbour, once the site of a decisive sea battle in 1601.

I have been to this well several times before but nothing can compare to being shown somewhere by a local who has a passionate love for the area and knows the name of every nook, cranny and rock. What an exhilarating experience. I highly recommend booking one of Conor’s tours if you are in the area for you will look around you with new eyes.

St Bartholomew’s Well, Tobar Pártaláin, Toe Head

Conor is a member of the very active Castlehaven & Myross History Society and I was fortunate to be contacted by their Chairman, Vincent O Neill, who wondered if I would like to see a couple of wells around Toe Head – one of which I had been unable to find. Yes please. We rendezvoused in Lidl carpark then leapt into his squashed blackberry coloured Yeti (his description) and were given a grand tour of the incredibly scenic area that is Toe Head. The sun continued to shine and everywhere looked breath-takingly beautiful.

First stop a search for St Bartholomew’s Well, Tobar Pártaláin, where we were joined by Adrian and Celine. I had attempted to find this well before in 2016 with no success but Vincent knew where it was and strode forth, over walls and ditches and across several fields, heading down towards the sea.

We skidded down a narrow fuchsia-strewn gully, kindly cleared a few days earlier by Vincent, and there was the Tobar Pártaláin, calm and contained.

A rough, rectangular basin was surmounted by a large slab supported by smaller stones. The water within was copious and clear, attractively strewn with fuchsia blossom.

There is an entry in the Schools’ Folklore Collection relating to the well, beautifully written in the Irish script , an Cló Gaelach.

Vincent kindly translated for me. This is the gist: St Bartholomew, who was blind, prayed fervently here and his sight was restored. The water contains a cure for sore eyes and is usually taken home. The water will not boil and also contains a blessed fish, good luck to those who see it. Three rounds of the well are required, the pilgrim dropping a pebble in the well each time a round is completed. The Feast day is 14th May.

This date suggests another local local saint for St Bartholomew the Apostle’s feast day is 24th August.

Vincent thought that the original access to the well may have been by the sea. The area directly below the cliffs is known as Cuasín a’ Tobar, Little Bay of the Well and whilst kayaking, Conor had come across what looked like steps cut into the cliff.

What great news that this little well has been revived and cherished. Please note, however, that the well is on private land.

Tearing ourselves away from the view we piled into the car and our next stop was a wonderful walk along the cliffs through the heather .

Our destination was the EIRE sign, one of 83 erected during WWII to notify pilots flying overhead that this was Irish territory and that Ireland remained neutral.

Toe Head is number 28 number and again Castlehaven & Myross History Society have been active, restoring the site in 2021. The sign is made out of large blocks of stone and is huge. Unlike other signs it hasn’t been whitewashed as its covered in a white lichen which does the job perfectly.

Well of the two Cats, Tobar dhá Chat, Tobar na gCat, Bawnishall

Carrying on to Bawnishall, we went in search of the Well of the Two Cats, Tobar dhá Chat, sometimes also written as Tobar na gCat. This involved a very challenging but scenic clamber up a small stream, dense with wildflowers higher than our heads – fuchsia, honeysuckle, agrimony overhead with watermint and watercress at our feet. Clouds of butterflies were startled by the unexpected activity.

I had been to the well before and correctly identified it but it has become even more overgrown since my first visit. The image below was taken in November 2016.

Today, August 2022, it is hard to see the stone trough surrounding it.

No one was very eager to clear around it for an entry in the Schools’ Folklore Collection, again in Irish, warns that it’s very unlucky to do this. This entry has been transcribed:

Tá tobar beannuighthe eile annso leis. Tá sé suidhte ar thaobh chnuic i mbaile-fearann Bán Íseal, timcheall céad a caogad slat síar ós na míanaí umha nach úsaidtear anois. Tá sean-roilig gairid do’n áit na gcuirtí daoine a gheibeadh bás le linn na bpéin-dlighthe. Tá falla garbh gan moirtéal tógtha ‘na thimcheall agus leac mór á chlúdú. Ós a cionn agus beagáinín siar uaidh, tá altóir (2′ x 3′ x 2’) agus léightí Aifreann air fadó in aimsir na bhpéin dlighthe. D’réir scéalta na sean-daoine, cítí dhá chat bhán ‘na suidhe ar gach taobh de’n tobar agus sin é cúis na h-ainme. Ní dóichighe gur tobar naomhtha é riamh, ach toisg Aifreann bheith á rádh ar a bharr agus cuireadh na daoine an-spéis ann. Tá sé clúduithe le driseóga atá go tuigh ann anois. Ní gearrfar iad seo mar rud mí-ádhmharach a bheadh déanta, Dá ndeanfaí a leithéid. Óltar uisce an tobair, ach ní usáidtear in aon slighe eile é. Uair amháin do nigh bean éadaighe san tobar agus rith sé in dísc.

SFC: 128:0298

A very rough translation informs: the well is on a hillside not far from some disused copper mines. Above it was a Mass Rock, its dimensions clearly given. The old people told how two white cats sat on each side of the well hence its name. It is now covered with reeds but it is unlucky to clean it. Once a woman washed her clothes in the well and it went dry.

The area was too overgrown to attempt to find the Mass Rock.

Driving back for a cuppa at Vincent’s house, we bumped into the cattle on their way to be milked, the farmer and his two dogs using a buggy. One of the dogs leapt out and was seen to have only three legs. That seemed fitting.

Two great experiences in the company of knowledgeable enthusiasts.

A quick mention about the epic and extremely useful place name project being carried out by Castlehaven and Myross History Society. They are trying to record absolutely everything – field, rock, cove and are continually adding to their findings: see here for their pioneering work.

Roaringwater Journal have already reported on this essential work.

The location of these wells can be found in the Gazetteer.

Sincere thanks to Conor and Celine Ó Buachalla, and to Vincent O Neill and Adrian for sharing their expertise and enthusiasm with me.