Brighid’s Cloak – Draft
by: Rose Welsh (Cill Vervain)

A Celtic cheiftan had just come to Ireland from the mainland where he was born. He found the place beautiful and whished to make as much af it his own as he could. He prayed to his clan god that they might aid him. The clan god appreared to him that night in a dream. He told him that he could have as much of the land as he and four men could survey in a day from sun down to sun down. The only stipulation was that they all must stay together.

The next day after the evening meal he and four of his men took off on their five swiftest horses into the setting sun. As darkness fell a thick fog rolled in and the men lost their way. Soon they were parted from one another and the chief, remembering what his god had said, lamented the loss as eh wandered aimlessly throught the fog hoping to come upon his men. After many hours of this he saw a flickering light in the distance and rode up to it. It was his men. They stayed all night by the fire. At first light the sun burned the fog off and the five commenced their survey once more. Empowered by their clan god the horses were a thousand times more swift than normal and the men encircled Ireland just before the sun set.

The Chief held a great celebration in honor of his clad god and the whole tribe sand, danced and ate through he night. The next morning the chief set off to find a good place to build his home.

Outline

He finds an old woman by a fire, well and oak tree combing her silver hair. She takes him to her village and introduces him to the Dagda and two of his daughters Brigid. The Dagda challenges the Chiefs claim to the land and it looks like there will be a great war. Brigid the Healer steps between the two and offers a compromise: Her tribe can have all the land her cloak can cover. The Chief, seeing that the woman’s cloak is small and tattered, thinks this is a grand idea and swears to it. She tosses her cloak in a swirl and it covers the whole of Ireland. The Chief falls down and begs for mercy from these gods. His people have no land where they came from, no place to call home. They would have to live in their boats on the sea if the gods do not take pity on him. Brigid the Smith takes pity on him and makes this offer: If you take my sister as your only bride we will only keep a small portion of the land for ourselves. Reasoning that because the two sisters he’d met were beautiful and strong, he figures this is a great bargain and agrees. The old hag from the woods appears and steps up to take the Chief as her husband. This, being too much, the Chief breaks his word, declares war and rides off to prepare his army and ask for his clan gods assistance. When he tells his tribe his version of the story only half of the men are ready to fight. The King prays to his clan god for support and gets it. He hopes that with this support he can sway the rest of the people to fight. Instead of support he finds that the other half of the people have rallied behind the clan Smith. These people do not feel that making war on the gods of this land is a good idea, even with the support of the clan god. They feel that there would be too much loss of life to make the fight worth it. He promises to help them find a new land across the sea. The Chief and the Smith are about to come to blows when the old hag appears from the forest. She tells them that whoever marries her will rule all of Ireland as long as her people remain safe on the land. The Chief swings his sword to take her head. The Smith parries and kills the Chief. The Smith takes the hag as his wife, saying the he only does this in order to save his people and hers from a bloody war. She wraps her cloak around his shoulders and it turns a vibrant green. He kisses her and she changes into the most beautiful of the three sisters. Her wedding gift to her husband is a cross of rushes that symbolize the four corners of Ireland and the Hill of Tara which he can now rule. He builds her a great temple to house her well, oak and flame.

This article is Copyright 2004 to Melody Dickinson (Rose Welsh), member of Cill Vervain. This article may not be reproduced in part or in whole. Please contact the webmistress so that she may put you in contact with the author of this work.

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