_September 28th, 1899._
'HONOURABLE LADY GREGORY,
'I, Bridget Ruane, wish to inform you that there is in the Oratory
in London one of the Fathers, a Saint. I do not know his name; but
there was a young woman of the name of Meara; she got two falls and
could get no cure. She went to London and found this holy man; and
he sent her back to Gort, here to me, and I cured her. If your
honourable Ladyship could make him out, it would be a wonderful
thing, and a great happiness to many a weary heart, and the great
God would have it in store for you and your son. May you enjoy many
happy days together is the prayer of your humble servant,
'BRIDGET RUANE.'
This letter was brought to me one morning; and I went down to see the
writer, a respectable-looking old woman, dressed in the red petticoat
and blue cloak of the country-people. She repeated what she had said in
her note, and added: 'Now if you could find out the name of that Saint
through the press, he'd tell me his remedies; and between us, all the
world would be cured. For I can't do all cures, though there are a great
many I can do. I cured Michael Miscail when the doctor couldn't do it,
and a woman in Gort that was paralyzed, and her two sons that were
stretched. For I can bring back the dead with some of the herbs our Lord
was brought back with, the _Garblus_ and the _Slanlus_. But there are
some things I can't do. I can't help anyone that has got a stroke from
the Queen or the Fool of the Forth.
'It was my brother got the knowledge of cures from a book that was
thrown down before him on the road. What language was it written in?
What language would it be but Irish? May be it was God gave it to him,
and may be it was the _other people_. He was a fine strong man; and he
weighed fifteen stone; and he went to England, and there he cured all
the world, so that the doctors had no way of living. So one time he got
in a ship to go to America; and the doctors had bad men engaged to
shipwreck him out of the ship; he wasn't drowned, but he was broken to
pieces on the rocks, and the book was lost along with him. But he taught
me a good deal out of it. So I know all herbs, and I do a good many
cures; and I have brought a good many children home to the world, and
never lost one, or one of the women that bore them.'
I asked her to teach me some of her fragments of Druids' wisdom, the
healing power of herbs. So she came another day, and brought some herbs,
and sorted them out on a table, and said: 'This is _Dwareen_
(knapweed); and what you have to do with this, is to put it down with
other herbs, and with a bit of threepenny sugar, and to boil it, and to
drink it, for pains in the bones; and don't be afraid but it will cure
you. Sure the Lord put it in the world for curing.
'And this is _Corn-corn_ [tansy]; it s very good for the heart--boiled
like the others.
'This is _Athair-talav_, the father of all herbs (wild camomile). This
is very hard to pull; and when you go for it, you must have a
black-handled knife. And whatever way the wind is when you begin to cut
it, if it changes while you're cutting it, you'll lose your mind. And if
you are paid for cutting it, you can do it when you like; but if not,
_they_ mightn't like it. I knew a woman was cutting at one time, and a
voice, an enchanted voice, called out: "Don't cut that if you are not
paid, or you'll be sorry." But if you put a bit of this with every other
herb you drink, you'll live for ever. My grandmother used to put a bit
with everything she took, and she lived to be over a hundred.
'And this is _Camal buidhe_ (loose-strife), that will keep all bad
things away.
'This is _Cuineal Muire_ (mullein), the blessed candle of our Lady.
'This is the _Fearaban_ (water-buttercup); and it's good for every bone
of your body.
'This is _Dub-cosac_ (trichomanes), that's good for the heart; very good
for a sore heart.
'Here are the _Slanlus_ (plantain) and the _Garblus_ (dandelion); and
these would cure the wide world; and it was these brought our Lord from
the Cross, after the ruffians that were with the Jews did all the harm
to Him. And not one could be got to pierce His heart till a dark man
came; and he said: "Give me the spear and I'll do it." And the blood
that sprang out touched his eyes and they got their sight. And it was
after that, His Mother and Mary and Joseph gathered these herbs and
cured His wounds.
'These are the best of the herbs; but they are all good, and there isn't
one among them but would cure seven diseases. I'm all the days of my
life gathering them, and I know them all; but it isn't easy to make them
out. Sunday afternoon is the best time to get them, and I was never
interfered with. Seven Hail Marys I say when I'm gathering them; and I
pray to our Lord, and to St. Joseph and St. Colman. And there may be
_some_ watching me; but they never meddled with me at all.'
A neighbour whom I asked about Bridget Ruane and her brother
said:--'Some people call her "Biddy Early" (after a famous
witch-doctor). She has done a good many cures. Her brother was _away_
for a while, and it is from him she got her knowledge. I believe it's
before sunrise she gathers the herbs; any way no one ever saw her
gathering them. She has saved many a woman from being brought away when
her child was born by whatever she does; and she told me herself that
one night when she was going to the lodge gate to attend the woman
there, three magpies came before her and began roaring into her mouth to
try and drive her back.
Another neighbour, who has herself some reputation as an herb-doctor,
says:--'Monday is a good day for pulling herbs, or Tuesday--not Sunday:
a Sunday cure is no cure. The _Cosac_ is good for the heart. There was
Mahon in Gort--one time his heart was wore to a silk thread, and it
cured him. And the _Slanugad_ (ribgrass) is very good: it will take away
lumps. You must go down where it is growing on the scraws, and pull it
with three pulls; and mind would the wind change when you are pulling
it, or your head will be gone. Warm it on the tongs when you bring it
in, and put it on the lump. The _Lus-mor_ is the only one that's good to
bring back children that are "_away_."'
Another authority says:--'Dandelion is good for the heart; and when
Father Quinn was curate here, he had it rooted up in all the fields
about to drink it; and see what a fine man he is. The wild parsnip
(_Meacan-buidhe_) is good for the gravel; and for heart-beat there's
nothing so good as dandelion. There was a woman I knew used to boil it
down; and she'd throw out what was left on the grass. And there was a
fleet of turkeys about the house, and they used to be picking it up. At
Christmas they killed one of them; and when it was cut open, they found
a new heart growing in it with the dint of the dandelion.'
But an old man says there are no such healers now as there were in his
youth:--'The best herb-doctor I ever knew was Connolly up at Kilbecanty.
He knew every herb that grew in the earth. It is said he was away with
the fairies one time; and when I saw him he had the two thumbs turned
in; and it was said it was the sign they left on him. I had a lump on
the thigh one time, and my father went to him, and he gave him an herb
for it; but he told him not to come into the house by the door the wind
would be blowing in at. They thought it was the evil I had--that is
given by _them_ by a touch; and that is why he said about the wind; for
if it was the evil there would be a worm in it, and if it smelled the
herb that was brought in at the door, it might change to another place.
I don't know what the herb was; but I would have been dead if I had it
on another hour--it burned so much--and I had to get the lump lanced
after, for it wasn't the evil I had.
'Connolly cured many a one; Jack Hall, that fell into a pot of water
they were after boiling potatoes in, and had the skin scalded off him,
and that Dr. Lynch could do nothing for, he cured. He boiled down herbs
with a bit of lard, and after that was rubbed in three times, he was
well.
'And Cahill that was deaf, he cured with the _Riv mar seala_, that herb
in the potatoes that milk comes out of.'
Farrell says:--'The _Bainne bo blathan_ (primrose) is good for the
headache, if you put the leaves of it on your head. But as for the
_Lus-mor_, it's best not to have anything to do with that.' For the
_Lus-mor_ is good to bring back children that are 'away,' and belongs to
the class of herbs consecrated to the uses of magic, apart from any
natural healing power. The Druids are said to have taken their knowledge
of these properties from the magical teachers of the Chaldeans; but
anyhow the belief in them lives on in Ireland and in other Celtic
countries to this day.
A man from East Galway says: 'To bring anyone back from being with the
fairies, you should get the leaves of the _Lus-mor_, and give them to
him to drink. And if he only got a little touch from them, and had some
complaint in him at the same time, that makes him sick like, that will
bring him back. But if he is altogether in the fairies, then it won't
bring him back, for he'll know what it is, and he'll refuse to drink it.
'There was a man I know, Andy Hegarty, had a little chap--a little
_summach_ of four years--and one day Andy was away to sell a pig in the
market at Mount Bellew, and the mother was away some place with the
dinner for the men in the field; and the little chap was in the house
with the grandmother, and he sitting by the fire. And he said to the
grandmother: "Put down a skillet of potatoes for me, and an egg." And
she said: "I will not; for what do you want with them? you're just after
eating." And he said: "Take care but I'll throw you over the roof of
that house." And then he said: "Andy"--that was his father--"is after
selling the pig to a jobber, and the jobber has given it back to him
again; and he'll be at no loss by that, for he'll get a half-a-crown
more at the end." So when the grandmother heard that, she wouldn't stop
in the house with him, but ran out--and he only four years old. When the
mother came back, and was told about it, she went out and got some of
the leaves of the _Lus-mor_, and she brought them in and put them on the
child; and he went away, and their own child came back again. They
didn't see him going, or the other coming; but they knew it by him.'
And a Galway woman, who has been in England says: 'I was delicate one
time myself, and I lost my walk; and one of the neighbours told my
mother it wasn't myself that was there. But my mother said she'd soon
find that out; for she'd tell me she was going to get a herb that would
cure me; and if it was myself, I'd want it; but if it was another, I'd
be against it. So she came in and said she to me: "I'm going to Dangan
to look for the _Lus-mor_, that will soon cure you." And from that day I
gave her no peace till she'd go to Dangan and get it; so she knew I was
all right. She told me all this afterwards.'
The man from East Galway says: 'The herbs they cure with, there's some
that's natural, and you could pick them at all times of the day.'
'Sea-grass' is sometimes useful as a natural and sometimes as an occult
cure. One who has tried it and other herbs, says: 'Indeed the porter did
me good, and good that I'd hardly like to tell you, not to make a
scandal. Did I drink too much of it? Not at all. But this long time I am
feeling a worm in my side that is as big as an eel, and there's more of
them in it than that. And I was told to put seagrass to it; and I put it
to the side the other day; and whether it was that or the porter I don't
know, but there's some of them gone out of it.
'_Garblus_--how did you hear of that? That is the herb for things that
have to do with the fairies. And when you drink it for anything of that
sort, if it doesn't cure you, it will kill you then and there. There was
a fine young man I used to know, and he got his death on the head of a
pig that came at himself and another man at the gate of Ramore, and that
never left them, but was with them all the time, till they came to a
stream of water. And when he got home, he took to his bed with a
headache. And at last he was brought a drink of the _Garblus_, and no
sooner did he drink it than he was dead. I remember him well.
'There is something in flax, for no priest would anoint you without a
bit of tow. And if a woman that was carrying was to put a basket of
green flax on her back, the child would go from her; and if a mare that
was in foal had a load of flax on her, the foal would go the same way.'
And a neighbour of hers confirms this, and says: 'There's something in
green flax, I know; for my mother often told me about one night she was
spinning flax before she was married, and she was up late. And a man of
the fairies came in--she had no right to be sitting up so late: they
don't like that--and he told her it was time to go to bed; for he wanted
to kill her, and he couldn't touch her while she was handling the flax.
And every time he'd tell her to go to bed, she'd give him some answer,
and she'd go on pulling a thread of the flax, or mending a broken one;
for she was wise, and she knew that at the crowing of the cock he'd have
to go. So at last the cock crowed, and she was safe, for the cock is
blessed.'
* * * * *
Old Bridget Ruane will not do any more cures by charms or by simples, or
'bring children home to the world' any more. For she died last winter;
and we may be sure that among the green herbs that cover her grave,
there are some that are 'good for every bone in the body,' and that are
'very good for a sore heart.'
1900.