“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.”
― William Butler Yeats, The Land of Heart's Desire
I walk into Shoot the Crows around nine at night, rather late for a Tuesday. The winter storm raging outside with its gusts of wind and mid-March snow is fittingly named Gareth, calling to mind Bowie’s Goblin King in Labyrinth. It was my last night in Sligo, and I had heard that this was the best pub to hear traditional Irish music in town. The pub was as empty as the street, save for the woman in front of the fireplace, two young men at the bar, and the bartender, a long gray pony tail snaking down his back. I grab an expertly poured pint and wander to the back of the pub by the fire, settling in on a bench opposite a black and white setter curled up in her spot. She raises her head to give me the once over, then goes directly back to sleep once she determines I am a friend. I begin to think I may have gotten the night wrong and I strike up a conversation with the woman also warming herself by the fire. It turns out I had nothing to fear. Andrea, on a pilgrimage from Germany, shares that the session will start around ten o’clock. Sure enough, we hear a few more people wander into the pub as we talk about our lives as only strangers in a foreign country can, the setter gently snoring between us while the fire keeps the cold and damp outside.
County Sligo is nestled on the northwest coast of Ireland along the Wild Atlantic Way. The county, also known as “Yeats’ Country” was made famous by the Irish poet William Butler Yeats, who spent his childhood holidays in Sligo and considered the area his spiritual home. Much of Yeats’ work was devoted to the land and the folklore that he grew up hearing from his mother and other local folk. Visible nearly anywhere you go in County Sligo, the table mountain Benbulbin (Binn Ghulbain in Irish) is home to many mythical tales. The mountain is said to be the legendary final resting place of the lovers Diarmuid and Grainne, the place the giant Fionn mac Cumhaill is said have fooled Diarmuid into fighting a boar, only to die when Fionn refused to save him, and is the place that the very same giant found his long-lost son Oisín. Benbulbin also has a starring role in many of Yeats’ poems, including his last. His gravestone, under the watchful eye of Benbulbin, holds the simple epitaph he wrote a year before his death, held within the final stanza of his elegy poem, “Under Ben Bulben”:
“Under bare Ben Bulben's head
In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid,
An ancestor was rector there
Long years ago; a church stands near,
By the road an ancient Cross.
No marble, no conventional phrase,
On limestone quarried near the spot
By his command these words are cut:
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!“
Venture north eight kilometers out of Sligo town to the village of Drumcliff, visit Yeats’ grave at St. Columba’s Church cemetery, and see the limestone gravestone under Benbulbin, in accord with Yeats’ wishes. The site of the church has been a place of Christian worship since the first monastery was built here in 574 A.D. The only remnants of the early monastery are the round tower and the high cross, the current church was built much more recently, in 1809. For those seeking some fresh local flavor, there is a bustling café outside the churchyard with local ingredients and quite honestly, the best carrot ginger soup I have ever tasted.
West of Sligo town about 9 kilometers is the mountain Knocknarea that has the honor of being host to Queen Maebh’s (or Maeve’s) Tomb. Legend has it that it was built for Queen Maebh during the Iron Age, but archeologists have determined the cairn was built circa 3000 B.C.. Perhaps Queen Maebh was buried in an already existing tomb or maybe the legend has changed over millennia regarding whose tomb is atop Knocknarea? This is only known to the ancient peoples who built it so long ago and told the first stories. The path up to the cairn is a steep three kilometer hike, but the cairn and the views of the county and sea are worth the bit of sweat, while the horses and sheep grazing on hillside make charming company.
Back in Sligo town, surrounded by homes in the middle of a roundabout, is the Garavogue Fairy Fort, also referred to as the Abbeyquarter Stone Circle. The stone circle is a unique, ancient monument overlooking the River Garavogue within walking distance of the town center. The residential stone circle consists of forty-four boulders, dating back to at least 3000 B.C., and Catholic assumption statues that were added by the church in 1954. When visiting the Yeats’ Society Building I discussed with a staff member how the belief in myth, particularly fairies, has protected Ireland’s ancient sites and in turn the land. It is bad luck to disturb a fairy’s domain, be it a stone circle or a fairy tree. All throughout Ireland, if a lone Hawthorne tree grows in the middle of a field, the farmer will not remove the tree, but rather farm around it so as not offend the fairies and attract their wrath. Stone circles, cairns, and other ancient sites are similarly incorporated into daily life as sheep graze on ancient mounds, and megalithic structures remain untouched in towns, fields, forest, and mountains. Ancient myth and modern society coexist to protect the natural resources and the culture of the island. Yeats’ poems weaving land and folklore, myth and legend, are living, breathing, and thriving in Ireland.
Sitting around the fire, my new found friend Andrea and I hear the beginnings of the session in the front room and make our way to the bar for another pint, while our furry friend stays curled up safe and warm on the wooden bench. Shoot the Crows has filled up and is now a bustle of activity despite the winter storm outside. We find a seat right next to the session players, and spend the rest of the wintery evening sharing pints and our love for Ireland, promising to keep in touch when we return home.