Field of the Two Yews

There is something haunting about the Irish song Aghadoe, particularly in Liam Clancy's rendition. It begins with a hidden glen in the hills above Killarney, a place where two lovers meet away from the eyes of the world.

There's a glen in Aghadoe, Aghadoe, Aghadoe
There's a deep and secret glen in Aghadoe
Where we met my love and I, love's fair planet in the sky
In that deep and silent glen in Aghadoe

But their happiness is shattered when rebellion comes to Ireland. During the troubled years associated with the 1798 Rebellion, the glen becomes a place of refuge.

Where I hid from the eyes of the redcoats and their spies
That year the trouble came to Aghadoe

The song ends in tragedy, but its final image is one of devotion rather than despair. The glen that once sheltered the lovers becomes a place of mourning, and the young man’s death takes on the solemn dignity of an ancient Irish legend. By calling him an Irish king, the song elevates his memory beyond that of a fallen rebel. He becomes someone whose story deserves to endure, remembered not for how he died, but for the love that outlived him.

There I covered him with fern and I piled on him the cairn
Like an Irish king he sleeps in Aghadoe

Attributed to John Todhunter, the poem evokes the turbulent world of the 1798 Rebellion. Its emotional power is unmistakable: a story of love and loyalty in the face of death, set against the struggles and sorrows that became woven into Ireland's songs.

The place that gives the song its name is Aghadoe, overlooking the Lakes of Killarney in County Kerry. Today, the hillside is known for its magnificent views across the lakes and mountains, but its history reaches back through medieval Ireland to the early centuries of Irish Christianity. Just across the water lies Inisfallen Island, home to a monastery that became one of medieval Ireland’s great centers of learning. Lough Leane, the lake surrounding it, is often said to mean “Lake of Learning,” a traditional interpretation linking its name to the scholarship of the monks who lived there. It was here that generations of monks helped preserve Ireland’s past in the remarkable manuscript known as the Annals of Inisfallen.

The name Aghadoe derives from the Irish Achadh Dá Eó, meaning the field of the two yew trees. The yew held a special place in Ireland’s ancient traditions, prized for its wood and associated with sacred places, wisdom, and enduring life. Yews can live for many centuries, and their evergreen foliage made them natural symbols of continuity and enduring life. Early Christians also came to associate them with immortality and the hope of life beyond death. In a song about love, loss, and remembrance, the image of two yews carries a quiet significance: like the land itself, they stand as witnesses to lives and stories that might otherwise be forgotten.

The surviving ruins at Aghadoe include a medieval church with a distinctive Romanesque doorway and the remains of a round tower, reminders of the religious communities that shaped Ireland's landscape. Tradition associates Aghadoe with St Finian the Leper, an early Irish saint also connected with the monastic settlement on Inisfallen Island in Lough Leane.

Imagine Inisfallen centuries ago: a small island surrounded by the waters of Lough Leane, its monastic community devoted to prayer, study, and the recording of events. Here, a remarkable historical record took shape: the Annals of Inisfallen. Written in Irish and Latin, the annals chronicle the deaths of kings and churchmen, battles, political upheavals, Viking raids, and the changing fortunes of Ireland. The surviving manuscript was compiled around the end of the eleventh century, drawing on earlier traditions, and continued by successive scribes.

The importance of these records to our understanding of Ireland's past is immense. For centuries, the Irish annals were among the principal sources through which later generations could recover the country's early history. The Annals of Inisfallen are particularly valuable for Munster and the southwest, preserving accounts for which there is sometimes no surviving equivalent. Alongside other medieval chronicles, they form an essential foundation of Irish historiography.

Without these manuscripts, much of what we know about medieval Ireland would be lost or far more difficult to reconstruct. The names of rulers, the fortunes of kingdoms, the influence of the Church, and the events that shaped communities would have left a much fainter trace. The annals are not a complete account of Ireland, nor are they free from the perspectives and limitations of their compilers. Yet their survival is remarkable. The monks and scribes who preserved them could scarcely have imagined that their work would still be studied a thousand years later, helping generations they would never know understand the world they inhabited.

One figure associated with this landscape is Maelsuthain Ua Cerbaill, a learned Irish ecclesiastic who died in 1010 and is recorded as having been buried at Aghadoe. His story offers a glimpse into the close relationship between scholarship, faith, and political life in medieval Ireland. Monasteries were places of worship, but they were also centers of learning where texts were studied, manuscripts preserved, and historical events recorded. The connection between Aghadoe and Inisfallen reminds us that Ireland's Christian heritage helped sustain not only its faith but also a remarkable culture of learning.

Aghadoe's history extends beyond the Church. Nearby, the remains of Parkavonear Castle recall the struggles for power that shaped medieval Ireland. Religious communities and fortifications occupied the same landscape, bearing witness to changing rulers, rivalries, and conflict.

Centuries later, the region suffered another tragedy. During the Great Famine of the 1840s, hunger and disease devastated communities throughout Ireland. County Kerry was among the regions profoundly affected, and Aghadoe is associated with famine burials. The precise details of these local accounts warrant further verification, but the wider catastrophe is unmistakable: families lost children, parents, and livelihoods, while countless others left Ireland in search of survival. The consequences reached far beyond the years of hunger, shaping the Irish diaspora and the memories carried across generations. At Aghadoe, the beauty of the lakes and mountains stands alongside this history of suffering, reminding us that Ireland's landscape holds stories of both extraordinary beauty and profound sorrow.

After all these centuries, we return to the song. Historical records can tell us about rulers, battles, and the affairs of kingdoms. Songs preserve something different: the grief of a lover, the longing for justice, and the emotions that give human meaning to the past. In Aghadoe, the landscape becomes inseparable from the tragedy. The name carries the story, while the story gives the place a life beyond its physical boundaries.

Liam Clancy's rendition brings that tradition into the present, connecting listeners with an older Ireland where songs travelled from person to person and generation to generation.

Look out from Aghadoe today and the Lakes of Killarney spread beneath you, framed by the mountains of Kerry. The landscape is beautiful, but its deeper significance lies in the lives and stories it holds: the faith of early Christian communities, the learning preserved at Inisfallen, the struggles of kingdoms, the suffering of famine, and the tragic tale carried through Irish song. Together, they form part of the inheritance passed down to us.

The monks who compiled the annals could not have imagined the historians who would one day depend on their work, just as those who built Aghadoe's church could not have foreseen the visitors who would stand among its ruins centuries later. Nor could those who first sang of Aghadoe have known that the song would still move listeners in another age.

Above the Lakes of Killarney, Aghadoe stands quietly, its ancient stones weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Across the water, the annals of Inisfallen preserve fragments of Ireland's history. And in Liam Clancy's voice, the name Aghadoe lives on.

At Aghadoe, as at many other places in Ireland, the past is never truly gone. It lingers in the landscape, echoes in song, and speaks across the centuries.