A Catholic saint? Pagan goddess? Mythical brewery?A Break in Kildare highlights a day that is now honoured with its own bank holiday on 1 February.
“She believed that if she brewed a lake of beer, it would solve the world’s problems. . . »
When owner and brewer Judith Boyle, whose relative has worked in pubs and breweries for five generations, utters those words in the bar that bears her name in the suburbs of Kildare city (a 30-minute drive from Dublin), you’d be forgiven for thinking I was talking about a beer-producing relative. But, in fact, it refers to St. Bridget, a woman who, I learned, is the patron saint of (among other things) beer.
“They say he turned dirty water into beer and managed to share a single mug of beer with his entire parish of 18 churches,” Judith says, as I spice up her new batch of Brigid Ale, a honey-sweetened malty beer from her beekeeper father’s house. hives. ” Every year, in January, we make the Bridget’s crosses and on the first of February the young people of the city have a day off from school. »
This year it’s not just Kildare schoolchildren who get a day off. In 2023 the Irish government decided to add a new public holiday to the national calendar and, after much campaigning, Brigid’s feast day was chosen.
The legend of Brigid begins in AD451, but here in Kildare it starts at the Heritage Centre with a virtual reality adventure – stop one of five on the St Brigid’s Trail. I head there the next morning and pull on a VR headset to meet Brigid, the pagan goddess of fire, and am soon being flown through 1,500 years of history on the wing of a peregrine falcon.
“Brigid is a very old name,” says Tom McCutcheon, my real adviser and director of the center. Before Christianity, other people worshipped deities and goddesses, and here Brigid is one of them. .
It’s the end of January, and despite the cooler weather and dark nights, there’s a real buzz in Kildare. In fact, this February 1 will mark the 1,500th anniversary of the death of St. Bridget, who will be venerated with two weeks of celebrations in the city, ranging from fireplaces and gentle displays to guided meditative walks, craft workshops, music concerts and storytelling for children.
After meeting the goddess, I am introduced (via VR technology) to Brigid the farmer – daughter of a slave and a free man of good standing – who is busy milking cows and giving away her father’s sword to a homeless family so that they can sell it to buy food. Then she morphs, seamlessly, into the saint whose name adorns the nearby cathedral and church a few minutes’ walk away.
“The Irish name for Kildare is Cill Dara – church of the oak,” says Tom. “The cathedral stands where St Brigid built her first monastery.”
I make my way to the cathedral park, open lately for a Sunday service and special occasions, where a massive stone construction towers above all the other structures in the city. According to tradition, Brigid arrived here in 480 AD. and made his monastery a combined place of schooling: training of men and women.
Among the Christian iconography, there also sits an old, weathered Celtic cross, and a rectangular stone enclosure said to mark the spot where the Celtic goddess lit her flame, which nuns tended for centuries.
The flame no longer burns here (believed to have been extinguished in the 16th century with the Reformation), but at the southern end of the city, in the spiritual center known as Solas Bhride, the last two Brigidine sisters are still a rekindled version. Despite the open Christian connection to the nuns, the dichotomy persists here. Their program includes ecclesiastical and secular occasions, from meditation sessions to ancient lectures. And the nuns tell me that they stick to the liturgical and herbal calendar.
“We’re setting the pace for the year,” says Sister Phil O’Shea, standing in front of the flickering light. “The equinoxes and solstices, as well as Advent, Easter, and Christian feasts. “
I participate in a cross weaving workshop with Phil, where I am informed that while the cross represents the crucifix, its 4 arms also symbolize the seasons and the elements. “Some people see Brigid only as a goddess. Others see Brigid as the saint as the embodiment of the goddess. Each generation will reinvent the legend in their own way,” says Phil.
The center offers three independent circular hermitages where other people (of all religions or non-denominations) can stay (without TV or wifi) to reflect quietly. I love the idea of locking myself in here like a hermit, but it turns out that I realize I’m not alone, as they’re all booked. So I go back to Kildare and look for my healthiest hermit mobile in the form of rooms in Firecastle (double from 130 € B
The next day, I visited the last two sites of the Brigid’s Trail, adding its sacred well, where crosses and woven rosaries of Brigid hang from lancet arches that look like churches, next to a “clootie tree” covered in pagan ribbons, in honor of the goddess. its parish church of the same name, where parishioners sing a prayer in Irish while a gospel choir rehearses for Brigid’s birthday party on February 1 (also the date of Imbolc in the pre-Christian calendar, which marks the beginning of spring).
Between the sites I chat to locals in Hartes gastropub (which serves sustainable, traceable and seasonal meat and produce) and learn about the legend of how Kildare came to be. Apparently, the king of Leinster – a miserly fellow – when asked by Brigid if she could site her monastery on the hilltop, said she could only claim the land she could fit under her cloak. She agreed, and threw out her mantle to cover the entire town and surrounding rolling grassland, known as The Curragh or, locally, Brigid’s Pastures.
On my final morning I visit the 2,000 hectares she managed to acquire. There are no walking trails, though Sister Phil said they are working on creating one that connects “all corners of Brigid’s cloak”. I wander regardless, making my own way across the undulating ground. After half an hour I find myself inside a rectangle of deciduous trees, an old fox’s covert, and come face to face with an oak peace pole placed here by the Friends of St Brigid, Cairde Bhride. After a long weekend in Kildare, I’m more fascinated than ever by Brigid. A goddess, saint and woman who stood for helping others, empowering women, caring for the environment and – very importantly – making enough beer for everyone.
Kildare is a 45-minute drive or a 30-minute drive from Dublin, available via exercise and Irish ferries from Holyhead and Pembroke, from £43. 20 each way.