Faerie Lore and Legends

Ossian’s Grave
* Cloghbrack * Cushendall * Northern Ireland *

The fabled site of where the wandering poet, bard, and seer “Oisin” is believed to be buried. Atop a hill overlooking the valley and down into the Glen as well as over the Channel to be able to see Scotland on a clear day, the location for this small megalithic tomb is spectacular. The Tomb faces East, South-east next to an oval cairn dedicated to poet John Hewitt. Oisin’s Grave / Ossian’s tomb is a small megalithic semi-circular court opening into a two-chambered burial gallery. The back chamber is composed of two sidestones at the southwest, a back or sidestone at the northeast, with a pair of transverse jambs higher than the other stones as if they may have been originally designed as portals. The Forechamber is in very poor shape with only 2 sidestones intact with a pair of portal stones. Within the chamber lies a fallen stone that may have been the displaced roof-stone. The large court dominates the tomb, but additional stones suggest that the court may have belonged to two periods, relating to a back chamber and subsequent fore-portals.

A great irish poet, John Hewitt was very impressed with Ossian’s grave and the megalithic tomb that exists on this hill. So much that he wrote a poem about the site called “Oisin’s Grave: the horned cairn at Lubitavish, Co. Antrim”. Because of this, a stone cairn in Hewitt’s memory was constructed here in 1989 commemorating him as the “Poet of the Glens”.

We stood and pondered on the stones
whose plan displays their pattern still;
the small blunt arc, and, sill by sill,
the pockets stripped of shards and bones.
The legend has it, Ossian lies

beneath this landmark on the hill,
asleep till Fionn and Oscar rise
to summon his old bardic skill
in hosting their last enterprise.

This, stricter scholarship denies,
declares this megalithic form
millennia older than his time –
if such lived ever, out of rime –
was shaped beneath Sardinian skies,
was coasted round the capes of Spain,
brought here through black Biscayan storm,
to keep men’s hearts in mind of home
and its tall Sun God, wise and warm,
across the walls of toppling foam,
against this twilight and the rain.

I cannot tell; would ask no proof;
let either story stand for true,
as heart or head shall rule. Enough
that, our long meditation done,
as we paced down the broken lane
by the dark hillside’s holly trees,
a great white horse with lifted knees
came stepping past us, and we knew
his rider was no tinker’s son.

Nearby in Glenariff Park, there is a myth that Oisin had once tried to outrun a band of Vikings in this forest. When they closed in on him, he climbed down a steep gully, as just as he was about to plunge to his death, a mysterious grey rope-like column appeared, he grabbed on to it, and climbed up to safety. When he reached the top he found it to be the tail of a white horse grazing in the field above. He thanked the horse and asked for its help. She turned into a mountain mist, falling to the ground as water, thereby washing away the Norsemen who pursued him. This is now the waterfall in the park known as the “Grey Mare’s Tail”. (myth as told from Causeway Coast and Glens Myths Tour).

Official information: http://www.doeni.gov.uk/niea/nismrview.htm?monid=1476
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CLOGHBRACK, OSSIAN’S GRAVE

SMR Number	ANT 019:006	Additional Information…

Edited Type COURT TOMB: OSSIAN’S GRAVE OR CLOGHBRACK Townland LUBITAVISH Council MOYLE County ANT Grid Ref D2129028460 Protection State Care and Scheduled Parish LAYD Barony GLENARM LOWER Town General Type MEGALITHIC TOMB Condition SUBSTANTIAL REMAINS General Periods  [description of Periods] NEOLITHIC PREHISTORIC

Specific Type Specific Period COURT TOMB NEOLITHIC

Bibliography

BORLASE,W. 1897, I, 262-3 EVANS,E.E. & GAFFIKIN,M. B.N.F.C. SURVEY OF ANTIQUITIES: GRAY,W. JRSAI 16, 1883-4, 360 GRAY,W. P.B.N.F.C., 1883-4, APP.236 NO.6 HISTORY OF IRELAND (?) MEGALITHS AND RATHS. I.N.J. 1935, V, 247 O.S. FIELD REPORT NIO.132 O’LAVERTY,J. 1887, VOL.IV, 542 PSAMNI 1940, 9 UJA 13, 1907, 84, PLAN & PHOTO

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The Tiveragh Fairy Hill
Cushendall, Northern Ireland

Legend and lore have it that this very broad-sided hill with steep sides overlooking the small village of Cushendall in Northern Ireland is the gateway to Tir na nOg. A place very well known locally to be haunted by faeries, leprechauns, elves, and pixies … this giant hill is a natural fortress all on its own and easily seen to be claimed as a stronghold by the fae.

Fairy tales mention many stories about it rising on pillars during the twilight evening with a glimmering merriment of faeries frolicking and dining. Many believe that the wee folk live in this hill accessed by a nearby cave. As the warning goes, if ye are mortal, regardless of how appeasing the faerie music may sound, if you wander within, you’ll never be seen again on this plane of existence. Time holds a whole different rhythm in Faerieworlds.

We, however, of fae persuasion, did venture up the hill at the turn of twilight just as the sun went down. We spied the hill with visions of faerie impressions while across the valley atop Ossian’s Grave – the Megalithic tomb believed to be the burial spot of the fabled poet and bard Oisin. Now Oisin was lured into fae, into Tir na nOg, where he lived until he requested to return to the land of mortals to visit his family. Of course due to faerie time, he returned several hundred years later to find them all gone and deceased. He fell off his faerie steed and became a blind old man wandering these fields, eventually dying.

If the faerie tale is accurate, this would be the hill he would have ridden out of, and across the valley would have been his grave overlooking it … curious and more curious. Midway along the way up the base of the hill is one of the most magnificent Faerie Thorn Trees I’ve ever encountered. As usual with these faerie hills, I always find a wee hole just big enough for the Victorian-sized fae to enter within, usually lined with heavy rocks, making it look peculiarly like a miniature mine rather than an animal hole.

We climbed atop as the sun went down, empowered by the feelings of the ancient ones. Archaeologically, though, this may be a massive hillfort. I’m looking for those records and will post my findings here.

And their playing pitch was hardly as big
As my Uncle Barney’s potato rig;
And me there watchin’ them puck and clout
At the back o’ the wall with my eyes stuck out.

When all at once, like the squeal of a hare,
A wee voice shouted, “Who’s that up there?”
And a bit off a thing about nine – inch tall
Came climbing up to the top of the wall.

And he stood there; he stood about pot -size
With his two wee fingers up at my eyes,
And its God’s own truth that I’m speakin’ mind ye,
“Get out o’ that,” says he, “or I’ll blind ye!”

Aye that’s what he said, “I’ll blind ye,” says he,
And by Jing what he said was enough for me,
Did I run? Aye surely; I didn’t miss –
And I haven’t seen Tiveragh from that to this.

~ H.Browne

The Fairy Hill Tiveragh is a fairy hill and near to Cushendall,
And nobody goes there at night, no nobody at all.
The hill is small, the sides are steep.
And I have heard it said That flickering lights go in and out While everyone’s in bed.
And on the top two hawthorns grow, A white one and a red.

~ John Irvine Desmond

~ Yours truly, Leaf McGowan