Seán Óg McVeigh was a tall man whose body was thin as that of a skeleton, and he would walk around the town in a long, heavy black coat, the hems of which trailed the ground. On his head he would wear a wide-brimmed hat that cast a shadow to hide his bright blue eyes. But in the area Seán Óg was a widely known and highly respected personage who was greeted with deference that would usually be reserved for a doctor or a clergyman. This was surprising since Seán Óg had left school at the tender young age of thirteen years, without any qualifications or hope of a trade. He had, however, been the only child of a woman who was famed for her wisdom in the use of herbs and charms to cure many ills and difficulties. Under her tutelage, Seán Óg had spent years studying the ways of ‘mother nature’ and the cures that proper use of her fruit could provide. There were those who were certain that Seán Óg’s mother had spent a long time living among the ‘good people’ from whom, it was said, she had been gifted with many cures and fairy knowledge. It was because of the care taken in passing her knowledge to her son that Seán Óg was often called upon to treat ailments that affected the local people.
As part of his treatments, Seán Óg refused to resort to pills, or bottles filled with foul tasting potions to achieve cures. Instead, he used his time gathering nettles and other plants that he would combine in various ways to create his cures, and he was always the target of hurtful, disparaging comments by the local doctors. Each time that Seán Óg was sent for, he would readily answer their call, arriving punctually at the patient’s home carrying a bundle containing his herbs, nettles, and other plants in neatly tied bunches. But the nettles he carried were of a special type. They were mature nettles that he had plucked at dawn the same day and they still had the dew of morning still coating the leaves.
Perhaps it was a sign of their confidence in Seán Óg that made them feel so much better the moment that he entered their home. But with raised spirits they would watch as the tall, thin man removed his long, heavy black coat, and take off his wide-brimmed hat from his head. This done, Seán Óg would immediately set about getting his patients to lie down on a nearby couch, or bed. If it was a male patient, they would be politely asked to remove their shirt or their trousers, if it were parts of their lower body that were giving them bother. And being a true gentleman in all things, Seán Óg would always defer to natural shyness of women when it came to them revealing the areas of their body that were affected by pain.
With the affected areas revealed Seán Óg that made them feel so much better the moment he entered their home. With raised spirits they would watch as the tall, thin man removed his long, heavy, black coat and took off his wide-brimmed hat from his head. This done Seán immediately set about getting his patient to lie down on a nearby couch, or bed. If it was a male patient, they would be politely asked to remove their shirt, or their trousers if it were parts of the lower body that were giving them bother. And being a true gentleman in all things, Seán Óg would always defer to the natural shyness of women when it came to them revealing the areas of their body that were afflicted with pain.
With the affected area revealed Seán Óg would spit lightly on both hands and rub them together like a man making ready to dig a ditch with a spade. Then, holding a bunch of nettles with both hands, Seán would begin to beat the affected area of the poor patient’s body until it was a mass of red, blistered lumps that stung the patient to the bone. The procedure would take Seán between ten and fifteen minutes before he would feel ready to step back from his patient and inspect his work. Satisfied that his treatment had been delivered properly Seán Óg would tell them to redress, while assuring them they would not feel so much as a tinge of pain ever again, although the pain they had felt had been due to rheumatism, lumbago, or other ailments. Naturally, the treatment they had received had painful side-effects which had taken several days to disappear. But Seán Óg’s assurance was not a false one, for many who had suffered long years of pain before undergoing the ‘nettle treatment’, had become a new person and enjoyed better health because of Seán’s efforts.
Now, those who live in rural areas have learned by bitter experience that nettles are always at their stinging best in the Spring or early Summer. The seasons, however, had no influence over Seán Óg or the treatment he was famed for giving patients suffering from pain. Most of us believe that in the depths of winter the stinging nettles lose most of any curative properties they may have. It is further proof to how good Seán Óg was because his treatment was still effective even at the Christmas period when the nettles barely had a sting left and he could continue to attend patients who needed him.
As is usual with such unusual treatments there are always the immoral and unethical people who will follow Seán Óg’s actions, in the hope that they would gain fame and wealth. ‘Spring-heels’ Eddie was just one of these characters, who was always on the lookout to make a bit of easy money on the back of another person’s difficulties, and he thought he would take up Seán Óg’s therapy. However, Eddie had the bright idea of collecting huge bunches of nettles and extract their juices from them, which he believed would achieve the same results as Seán had, but without the side-effects. ‘Spring-heels’ immediately established a production line in the kitchen of his home and, despite his wife’s bitter complaints, filled his first twenty-four small bottles with the elixir. With his first production complete, Eddie was keen to test it, and he began his journey to wealth and fame. For his first guineapig, therefore, he chose his next-door neighbour and best friend who was always complaining about his sore back.
The neighbour was informed by Eddie that the bottle contained Seán Óg’s treatment that would, in this new form, act much more quickly to ease his pain. He also assured him that there would be no uncomfortable side-effects. Putting the small bottle of liquid to the patient’s mouth, Eddie watched as he gulped down almost a half of the bottle. Within seconds the patient went a bright red, which turned very quickly to a sickly yellowish-green and he began to roll on the ground grabbing his chest. An extremely frightened Eddie wasted no time in sending for the doctor, who rushed to the scene in his car. Deciding that the patient was poisoned he gave him something to drink which induced him to be sick, and then an ambulance was called.
There was once a neighbour of our own family who suffered terribly from pains that prevented hi from ploughing his fields since he found it very difficult to guide the plough behind the horses. He constantly complained to anyone who would listen that, “I would be dead if I had the will to stiffen”, and he called on his long-suffering brother-in-law, ‘Squinky’ Hoy, to help him on the farm. The patient, who was known to all as Joey ‘Soup’ Campbell, heard about the wonderful results that Seán Óg was achieving in curing people in persistent pain and he begged ‘Squinky’ to contact the ‘miracle worker’.
‘Squinky’ was not a man who believed in magic cures or fairy charms, although there were many in the district that did. He was not convinced, therefore, that a beating with stinging nettles by Seán Óg would cure ‘Soup’. He was sure if Seán Óg could do it, then so could he. That afternoon he went to a nearby woodland and gathered a large pile of nettles and, later that night, he took them to ‘Soup’s’ house. In the kitchen area of the house several men had gathered to play cards and ‘Soup’ was surprised to see his brother-in-law arrive with a huge bunch of nettles in his hands. Looking at him quizzically he asked ‘Squinky’, “What in the name of God are you doing with those nettles?”
“Right, Big Man,” began ‘Squinky’ as he reached down to his brother-in-law. “Drop those trousers and we will soon have you on your feet again!”
‘Soup’ stared at ‘Squinky’ blankly as he stood there waving his nettles in front of his friends. “Have you lost your feckin’ mind, you buck eejit?” he shouted as he rose angrily from his seat at the kitchen table and painfully moved toward ‘Squinky’. “Get out of here, you gobshite before I put my size twelve boot up your arse, so far you’ll be sucking leather for a year!”
‘Squinky’, you can understand did not need to be told twice as he fled quicker than a hare at a coursing event.
©Jim Woods Nov.2021.
Ireland's Lore and Tales 