Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms & Superstitions of Ireland

Each story keeps the passage it was read from. Open one to read the passage as the book has it, and, where the companion has written its own telling, that too.

1. Execution of Silken Thomas and the Fitzgeralds

   Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1534–1537

   Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, known as Silken Thomas, rebelled against the crown, throwing down the sword of state at St. Mary's Abbey and laying siege to Dublin Castle. He and his five uncles were sent to London and executed, while sixteen more Fitzgeralds were hanged and quartered in Dublin.

   Read the passage

   The strangest scene, perhaps, in the annals of vice-royalty, was when Lord Thomas Fitzgerald (Silken Thomas), son of the Earl of Kildare, and Lord-Lieutenant in his father’s absence, took up arms for Irish independence. He rode through the city with seven score horsemen, in shirts of mail and silken fringes on their head-pieces (hence the name Silken Thomas), to St. Mary’s Abbey, and there entering the council chamber, he flung down the sword of state upon the table, and bade defiance to the king and his ministers; then hastening to raise an army, he laid siege to Dublin Castle, but with no success. Silken Thomas and his five uncles were sent to London, and there executed; and sixteen Fitzgeralds were hanged and quartered at Dublin. By a singular fatality, no plot laid against Dublin Castle ever succeeded; though to obtain possession of this foreign fortress was the paramount wish of all Irish rebel leaders. This was the object with Lord Maguire and his Catholics, with Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his republicans, with Emmet and his enthusiasts, with Smith O’Brien and his nationalists—yet they all failed. Once only, during seven centuries, the green flag waved over Dublin Castle, with the motto—“NOW OR NEVER! NOW AND FOR EVER!” It was when Tyrconnel held it for King James.

   In the ancient stormy times of Norman rule, the nobility naturally gathered round the Castle. Skinner’s Row was the “May Fair” of mediæval Dublin. Hoey’s Court, Castle Street, Cook Street, Fishamble Street, Bridge Street, Werburgh Street, High Street, Golden Lane, Back Lane, &c., were the fashionable localities inhabited by lords and bishops, chancellors and judges; and Thomas Street was the grand prado where viceregal pomp and Norman pride were oftenest exhibited. A hundred years ago the Lord-Lieutenant was entertained at a ball by Lord Mountjoy in Back Lane. Skinner’s Row was distinguished by the residence of the great race of the Geraldines, called “Carbrie House,” which from them passed to the Dukes of Ormond, and after many vicissitudes, the palace from which Silken Thomas went forth to give his young life for Irish independence, fell into decay, “and on its site now stand the houses known as 6, 7, and 8 Christ Church Place, in the lower stories of which still exist some of the old oak beams of the Carbrie House.”

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Dublin, Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, known as Silken Thomas, son of the Earl of Kildare, took up arms for Irish independence. He was Lord-Lieutenant in his father's absence. He rode through the city with seven score horsemen in shirts of mail and silken fringes on their head-pieces, and that is where the name Silken Thomas came from. He went to St. Mary's Abbey, entered the council chamber, flung down the sword of state upon the table, and bade defiance to the king and his ministers. Then he raised an army and laid siege to Dublin Castle, but with no success. Silken Thomas and his five uncles were sent to London and executed. Sixteen Fitzgeralds were hanged and quartered at Dublin. By a singular fatality, no plot laid against Dublin Castle ever succeeded. Lord Maguire and his Catholics tried, Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his republicans tried, Emmet and his enthusiasts tried, Smith O'Brien and his nationalists tried, and they all failed. Once only, during seven centuries, the green flag waved over Dublin Castle, with the motto "NOW OR NEVER! NOW AND FOR EVER!" It was when Tyrconnel held it for King James. The palace from which Silken Thomas went forth to give his young life for Irish independence was called Carbrie House, on Skinner's Row. It passed to the Dukes of Ormond and fell into decay. On its site now stand the houses known as 6, 7, and 8 Christ Church Place, in the lower stories of which still exist some of the old oak beams of the Carbrie House.

2. Betrayal and Hanging of the United Irishmen at Oliver Bond's House

   Bridge Street · townland · Dublin · 1798

   The rebellion of 1798 was organized at the house of Oliver Bond in Bridge Street, Dublin. Led by the informer Reynolds, Major Swan seized twelve gentlemen there one night, and all were summarily hanged as rebels.

   Read the passage

   In Bridge Street great lords and peers of the realm resided. The Marquis of Antrim, the Duke of Marlborough’s father; Westenra, the Dutch merchant who founded the family afterwards ennobled, and others. It was the Merrion Square of the day. In Bridge Street the rebellion of ’98 was organized at the house of Oliver Bond; and one night Major Swan, led by Reynolds the informer, seized twelve gentlemen there, all of whom were summarily hanged as rebels. Castle Street was the focus of the rebellion of 1641; Sir Phelim O’Neill and Lord Maguire had their residences there, and concocted together how to seize the Castle, destroy all the lords and council, and re-establish Popery in Ireland. But a more useful man than either lived there also—Sir James Ware, whose indefatigable ardour in the cause of Irish literature caused him to collect, with great trouble and expense, a vast number of Irish manuscripts, which, after passing through many vicissitudes, are now deposited in the British Museum. The French family of Latouche came to Castle Street about one hundred years ago, and one of them, in 1778, upheld the shattered credit of the Government by a loan of £20,000 to the Lord-Lieutenant. Fishamble Street has historical and classic memories, and traditions of Handel consecrate this now obscure locality.

   Handel spent a year in Dublin. His “Messiah” was composed there, and first performed for the benefit of Mercer’s Hospital. How content he was with his reception is expressed in a letter to a friend. “I cannot,” he says, “sufficiently express the kind treatment I receive here, but the politeness of this generous nation cannot be unknown to you.”

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Bridge Street, you are near what was once the Merrion Square of its day. Great lords and peers of the realm resided here. The Marquis of Antrim, the father of the Duke of Marlborough, Westenra the Dutch merchant who founded a family afterwards ennobled, and others. But this street is most remembered for what happened at the house of Oliver Bond. The rebellion of 1798 was organized there. One night, Major Swan, led by Reynolds the informer, seized 12 gentlemen at that house. All of them were summarily hanged as rebels. Castle Street was the focus of the rebellion of 1641. Sir Phelim O'Neill and Lord Maguire had their residences there, and concocted together how to seize the Castle, destroy all the lords and council, and re-establish Popery in Ireland. But a more useful man than either lived there also. Sir James Ware, whose indefatigable ardour in the cause of Irish literature caused him to collect, with great trouble and expense, a vast number of Irish manuscripts, which, after passing through many vicissitudes, are now deposited in the British Museum. The French family of Latouche came to Castle Street about 100 years ago, and one of them, in 1778, upheld the shattered credit of the Government by a loan of 20,000 pounds to the Lord-Lieutenant. Fishamble Street has historical and classic memories, and traditions of Handel consecrate this now obscure locality. Handel spent a year in Dublin. His Messiah was composed there, and first performed for the benefit of Mercer's Hospital. How content he was with his reception is expressed in a letter to a friend. "I cannot," he says, "sufficiently express the kind treatment I receive here, but the politeness of this generous nation cannot be unknown to you."

3. Burning of Dunleary Church with Eighty Souls

   Dunleary · townland · Dublin · 1133

   During the Leinster Irish rising against the English in 1133, rebels set fire to everything, including churches, and burned the church of Dunleary with eighty people trapped inside. When the priest tried to escape carrying the Host, he was driven back with spears and burned alive.

   Read the passage

   As regarded religion, the English commanded the most implicit obedience to the Pope, under as strict and severe penalties as, five hundred years later, they enacted against those who acknowledged his authority. One provision of the ancient oath imposed upon the subjugated Irish was—“You acknowledge yourself to be of the Mother Church of Rome, now professed by all Christians.” But, that the Irish of that era little heeded papal or priestly ordinances may be inferred from the fact that, during the wars of Edward Bruce, the English complained that their Irish auxiliaries were more exhausting than the Scots, as they ate meat all the time of Lent; and it is recorded, that in 1133, when the Leinster Irish rose against the English, “they set fire to everything, even the churches, and burned the church of Dunleary, with eighty persons in it, and even when the priest in his sacred vestments, and carrying the Host in his hands, tried to get out, they drove him back with their spears and burned him. For this they were excommunicated by a Papal Bull, and the country was put under an interdict. But they despised these things, and again wasted the county of Wexford.”[19]

   [19] Grace’s Annals. Rev. R. Butler’s translation.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

4. O'Rourke of Breffny Hanged Head-Downwards at Dublin

   Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1171

   During Roderick O'Connor's siege of Dublin, O'Rourke of Breffny was taken prisoner, hanged with his head downwards, then beheaded, and his head was stuck on one of the centre gates of the castle — a spectacle of intense pity to the Irish.

   Read the passage

   The brave Roderick gathered together another army, and, with sixty thousand men, laid siege to Dublin, O’Rourke of Breffny aiding him. They were repulsed. O’Rourke was taken prisoner, and hanged with his head downwards, then beheaded and the head stuck on one of the centre gates of the castle, “a spectacle of intense pity to the Irish;” and Roderick retired into Connaught to recruit more forces.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here in 1171, O'Rourke of Breffny was taken prisoner after Roderick O'Connor's siege of Dublin failed. He was hanged head-downwards, then beheaded, and his head was placed on one of the centre gates of the castle. The source calls it "a spectacle of intense pity to the Irish." Roderick retired into Connaught to recruit more forces.

5. Sheela-na-Skean's Murder and Haunting near Fermoy

   Fermoy · townland · Cork

   A rich farmer near Fermoy was found murdered in his bed, his hoarded gold stolen except for a few blood-stained coins. His housekeeper, Sheela-na-Skean, was convicted and hanged for the crime after her lover turned evidence, and her vengeful ghost later haunted the farmhouse and killed the farmer's son who sought the hidden gold.

   Read the passage

   Years and years ago a rich farmer lived there, who was reputed to have hoards of gold hid away in his sleeping-room. Some said he never slept without the sack of gold being laid under his pillow. However, one night he was found cruelly murdered, and all the gold in the house was missing except a few pieces stained with blood, that had evidently been dropped by the murderers in their flight.

   The old man at the time was living quite alone. His wife was dead, and his only son was away in a distant part of the country. But on news of the murder the son returned, and a close investigation was made. Suspicion finally fell on the housekeeper and a lover she used to bring to the house. They were arrested in consequence and brought to trial. The housekeeper, _Sheela-na-Skean_, or Sheela of the Knife, as she was called afterwards, was a dark, fierce, powerful woman, noted for her violent and vindictive temper. The lover was a weak, cowardly fellow, who at the last turned evidence to save his life. He had taken no part, he said, in the actual murder, though he had helped Sheela to remove and bury the gold. According to his story, Sheela entered the old man’s room at night, and taking a sharp short sword that always hung at the head of his bed, she stabbed him fiercely over and over till not a breath of life was left. Then, calling her lover, they ransacked the room, and found quantities of golden guineas, which they put in a bag and carried out to the field, where they buried it in a safe spot, known only to themselves; but this place neither Sheela nor the lover would reveal unless they received a pardon.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 114

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere close to Fermoy, a rich farmer was found murdered in his bed years ago. He was reputed to have hoards of gold hidden in his sleeping room, and some said he never slept without the sack of gold under his pillow. One night he was found cruelly murdered, and all the gold in the house was missing except a few blood-stained pieces dropped by the killers in their flight. The old man had been living alone, his wife dead and his only son away in a distant part of the country. The son returned on news of the murder, and suspicion fell on the housekeeper and a lover she used to bring to the house. She was called Sheela-na-Skean, Sheela of the Knife, a dark, fierce, powerful woman noted for her violent and vindictive temper. Her lover was a weak, cowardly fellow who turned evidence to save his life. He said he took no part in the actual murder, though he had helped Sheela remove and bury the gold. According to him, she entered the old man's room at night, took the sharp short sword that always hung at the head of his bed, and stabbed him over and over till not a breath of life was left. They ransacked the room, found quantities of golden guineas, put them in a bag, and buried them in a field in a spot known only to themselves. Neither Sheela nor the lover would reveal the place unless they received a pardon.

6. Captain Webb's Hole at Lough Corrib

   Lough Corrib · townland · Galway

   The notorious robber Captain Webb terrorised County Mayo, abducting young women and drowning them naked in a deep hole near Lough Corrib, still called Captain Webb's Hole. He met his end when a captive girl he intended to murder tricked him and pushed him into the same fatal pit.

   Read the passage

   Many beautiful young girls he carried off by force or fraud; and when he grew tired of them it was his practice to strip the unhappy victims naked, and plunge them down a deep hole near Lough Corrib, which is still known throughout the county as “Captain Webb’s Hole.”

   One day, however, fate worked out a revenge on the audacious highwayman by the hands of a woman.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 115

7. The Slaughter at Clontarf

   Clontarf · townland · Dublin · 1014

   At Clontarf, ten thousand mail-clad Danish warriors were cut to pieces by the forces of King Brian, with three thousand more slain besides; even a grandchild of King Brian, a boy of fifteen, died in the fighting, found with his hand bound in the hair of a slain Dane.

   Read the passage

   Sometimes the Irish kings hired them as mercenaries to assist in the civil wars which raged perennially amongst them. Sometimes there were intermarriages between the warring foes—the daughter of Brian Boro’ wedded Sitric, King of the Danes of Dublin. Occasionally the Irish kings got possession of Dublin, and ravaged and pillaged in return. Once the Danes were driven forth completely from the city, and forced to take refuge upon “Ireland’s Eye,” the lone sea rock, since made memorable by a tragic history. Malachy, King of Meath, besieged Dublin for three days and three nights, burned the fortress, and carried off the Danish regalia; hence the allusion in Moore’s song to “The Collar of Gold which he won from the proud invader.” But the most terrible defeat the Danes ever sustained was at Clontarf, when ten thousand men in coats of mail were opposed to King Brian; but “the ten thousand in armour were cut in pieces, and three thousand warriors slain besides.” Even the Irish children fought against the invader. The grandchild of King Brian, a youth of fifteen, was found dead with his hand fast bound in the hair of a Dane’s head, whom the child had dragged to the sea.[17]

   [17] Hogan, the great historical sculptor of Ireland, has illustrated this era of Irish history by a fine group, heroic and poetical in idea, as well as beautiful in execution, like every work that proceeded from the gifted mind of this distinguished artist.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

8. The Murdered Informer and the Body in the Shannon

   near River Shannon · townland · Cavan

   A servant girl overheard two men in a stable plotting to murder a suspected informer and dispose of his body in the Shannon. Though she fled the area in fear, on the following November Eve the drowned man's corpse rose from the river and floated to her feet, compelling her to give evidence that led to the murderers' conviction and execution.

   Read the passage

   A young girl in a farmer’s service was in the loft one night looking for eggs when two men came into the stable underneath, and through a chink in the boards she could see them quite well and hear all they said. To her horror she found that they were planning the murder of a man in the neighbourhood who was suspected of being an informer, and they settled how they would get rid of the body by throwing it into the Shannon. She crept home half dead with fright, but did not venture to tell any one what she had heard. Next day, however, the news spread that the man was missing, and it was feared he was murdered. Still the girl was afraid to reveal what she knew, though the ghost of the murdered man seemed for ever before her. Finally she could bear the place no longer, and, giving up her situation, she went to another village some miles off and took service. But on November Eve, as she was washing clothes in the Shannon, the dead body of the murdered man arose from the water and floated towards her, until it lay quite close to her feet. Then she knew the hand of God was in it, and that the spirit of the dead would not rest till he was avenged. So she went and gave information, and on her evidence the two murderers were convicted and executed.

   * * * * *

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 45

9. The Widow's Suspicious Death

   Cong · townland · Mayo

   After marrying the wealthy widow whose son he had murdered, Captain Macnamara was suspected of killing her as well when she was found dead in her bed with a black mark round her neck, though fear of him prevented any accusation.

   Read the passage

   The whole property now devolved to the widow, who gave up the management entirely to Macnamara; and he lost no time in making good use of the large sums of money that came under his control, by constantly plunging into renewed courses of dissolute extravagance. How the home life went on no one knew, for little was seen of the wife while the husband carried on his orgies; but after a year had passed by, the country heard with surprise of the death of the rich widow, as she was still called—suddenly, it was said, by a fit, a stroke. She was found lying dead in her bed one morning, and her husband was in the greatest grief—this was the orthodox narrative. But strange whispers at the same time went through the neighbourhood, that round the neck of the poor dear lady was found a black mark, and many had grave suspicions of foul play, though they feared to take any measures against the captain, so great was the terror he inspired.

   Meantime, he consoled himself with another wife, a young girl who had been a favourite of his long before his first wife’s death. And they led a reckless life together till all the widow’s money was gambled away or spent in dissolute frolics. Then he joined a wild band of sharpers and desperadoes who fought and cheated every one at the fairs and races, and were the terror of the whole country. But, especially they warred upon the Big Joyces of Connemara, who thereupon swore to be revenged.

   Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 116

10. Captain Macnamara's Crimes and the Mare's Grave at Innis-Feenish

    Cong · townland · Mayo

    Captain Macnamara, a dissolute robber in County Mayo, murdered a young heir by tripping his horse with a rope and later poisoned or strangled his wealthy widow wife, leaving a black mark on her neck. Pursued by the Joyce faction, his magic mare Feenish died swimming the river at Cong and was buried on an island in Lough Corrib that still bears her name, Innis-Feenish.

    Read the passage

    One evening, however, Macnamara set a rope across a lonely part of the road where he knew the lad must pass when riding home. In consequence the horse stumbled, and threw the rider; and at night when the servants and people went out with torches to look for the young heir, he was found lying quite dead by the roadside.

    The whole property now devolved to the widow, who gave up the management entirely to Macnamara; and he lost no time in making good use of the large sums of money that came under his control, by constantly plunging into renewed courses of dissolute extravagance. How the home life went on no one knew, for little was seen of the wife while the husband carried on his orgies; but after a year had passed by, the country heard with surprise of the death of the rich widow, as she was still called—suddenly, it was said, by a fit, a stroke. She was found lying dead in her bed one morning, and her husband was in the greatest grief—this was the orthodox narrative. But strange whispers at the same time went through the neighbourhood, that round the neck of the poor dear lady was found a black mark, and many had grave suspicions of foul play, though they feared to take any measures against the captain, so great was the terror he inspired.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 116

11. The Betrayal and Death of Lord Edward Fitzgerald

    Thomas Street · townland · Dublin · 1798

    In an obscure house on Thomas Street, Dublin, the young rebel leader Lord Edward Fitzgerald was betrayed and struggled fatally with his captors. This scene marks one of the ghastly night episodes tied to Irish patriotism and Dublin's tragic history.

    Read the passage

    It is in truth a gloomy task to awaken the memories of Dublin, even of this century. There, in that obscure house of Thomas Street, visions rise of a ghastly night-scene, where the young, passionate-hearted Geraldine was struggling vainly in death-agony with his betrayers and captors. Pass on through the same street, and close by St. Catherine’s Church you can trace the spot where the gallows was erected for Robert Emmet. Before that sombre prison pile two young brothers, handsome, educated, and well-born, and many a fair young form after them, expiated by death their fatal aspirations for Irish freedom. Look at that magnificent portal, leading now to the tables of the money-changers; through it, not a century ago, men, entrusted with the nation’s rights, entered to sell them, and came forth, not branded traitors, but decorated, enriched, and rewarded with titles, pensions, and honours.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Thomas Street, in 1798, Lord Edward Fitzgerald met his end in an obscure house. The young, passionate-hearted Geraldine was betrayed, and struggled vainly in death-agony with his captors on a ghastly night. The author calls it a gloomy task to awaken the memories of Dublin, even of this century. This same street carries other shadows of Irish patriotism: close by St. Catherine's Church you can trace the spot where the gallows was erected for Robert Emmet. Before that sombre prison pile, two young brothers, handsome, educated, and well-born, and many a fair young form after them, expiated by death their fatal aspirations for Irish freedom. And through a magnificent portal, not a century ago, men entrusted with the nation's rights entered to sell them, and came forth decorated, enriched, and rewarded with titles, pensions, and honours.

12. The Fairy Feast at Innisboffin

    near Inishbofin · townland · Galway

    At Innisboffin the fairies hold court by moonlight, and a young man carried off to their hall witnesses an old miserly woman being butchered and cooked as punishment for her cruelty in life. Having drunk fairy wine, he pines away and dies young, unable to find the fairy mansion again.

    Read the passage

    “Get up, you fool,” said another old man, who seemed to be the head over all; and he laughed at him. “Do your work and never mind; this does not hurt her a bit. When she was there above in the world she was a wicked miser, hard to the world, and cruel and bitter in her words and works; so now we have her here, and her soul will never rest in peace, because we shall cut up the body in little bits, and the soul will not be able to find it, but wander about in the dark to all eternity without a body.”

    Then the young man knew no more till he found himself in a beautiful hall, where a banquet was laid out; but, in place of the old hag, the table was covered with fruit, and chickens, and young turkeys, and butter, and cakes fresh from the oven, and crystal cups of bright red wine.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 23

13. The Gallows of Robert Emmet by St. Catherine's Church

    Thomas Street · townland · Dublin · 1803

    Close by St. Catherine's Church on Thomas Street, Dublin, the spot can still be traced where the gallows was erected for Robert Emmet's execution. The text places it among the executions of young, well-born men who died for aspirations toward Irish freedom.

    Read the passage

    It is in truth a gloomy task to awaken the memories of Dublin, even of this century. There, in that obscure house of Thomas Street, visions rise of a ghastly night-scene, where the young, passionate-hearted Geraldine was struggling vainly in death-agony with his betrayers and captors. Pass on through the same street, and close by St. Catherine’s Church you can trace the spot where the gallows was erected for Robert Emmet. Before that sombre prison pile two young brothers, handsome, educated, and well-born, and many a fair young form after them, expiated by death their fatal aspirations for Irish freedom. Look at that magnificent portal, leading now to the tables of the money-changers; through it, not a century ago, men, entrusted with the nation’s rights, entered to sell them, and came forth, not branded traitors, but decorated, enriched, and rewarded with titles, pensions, and honours.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Thomas Street, you can still trace the spot where the gallows stood for Robert Emmet in 1803, beside St. Catherine's Church. The author calls it a gloomy task to awaken Dublin's memories, and this street holds many. Two young brothers, described as handsome, educated, and well-born, died here for their aspirations toward Irish freedom, and many a fair young form after them. The passage notes the contrast nearby: through a magnificent portal, men entrusted with the nation's rights entered to sell them, and came out not branded traitors but enriched, decorated, and rewarded with titles, pensions, and honours.

14. Sheela-na-Skean: Murder, Gallows and Ghost near Fermoy

    Fermoy · townland · Cork

    At a farmhouse near Fermoy in County Cork, a rich farmer reputed to sleep on a sack of gold was stabbed to death by his housekeeper, Sheela-na-Skean (Sheela of the Knife), who buried the stolen guineas and was hanged without revealing the hiding place; her lover died in prison. Her ghost later strangled the farmer's son as he was about to reveal the gold's location learned at a ruined castle, and haunted the castle until his sons recovered the gold from under a stone. The farmhouse was left an evil-reputed ruin no one would inhabit.

    Read the passage

    The murder, however, was too atrocious for pardon, and Sheela was hung amid the howlings and execrations of the people. But she remained fierce and defiant to the last, still refusing obstinately to reveal the place where the money was buried.

    The lover, meanwhile, had died in prison from fright, for after sentence was pronounced, he fell down in a fit, from which he never recovered. So the secret of the gold died with them.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 114

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Fermoy, Sheela-na-Skean was a housekeeper who killed her master, a rich farmer said to sleep on a sack of gold. She was hanged for the murder, refusing to the last to reveal where she buried the stolen guineas. Her lover died in prison from fright after the sentence was pronounced, and the secret of the gold died with them.

15. The Changeling Burned on the Hearth at Inishark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A story told by an old woman of Innis-Sark: a couple's beautiful child was stolen by the fairies and a changeling left in the cradle. On a tailor's advice the husband set the misshapen creature on a great fire, whereupon it shrieked and flew up the chimney, and the true child was restored with fairy blessings.

    Read the passage

    “So we made the fire. Then the tailor shut the door, and lifted the unlucky little wretch out of the cradle, and sat it on the fire. And no sooner had the flames caught it, than it shrieked aloud and flew up the chimney and disappeared. And when everything was burned that belonged to it, I knew you would come back to me with our own fine boy. And now let us name the name of God, and make the sign of the Cross over him, and ill luck will never again fall on our house—no more for ever.”

    So the man and his wife lived happily from that day forth, and the child grew up and prospered, and was beautiful to look at and happy in his life; for the fairy blessings were on him of health, wealth, and prosperity, even as the queen of the fairies had promised to the mother.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 19

16. The Drowned Prince's Son and the Flowers from Heaven

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    On Innis-Sark, a prince's young son dreams of a heavenly meadow and a lady who gives him flowers, then drowns the next day along with two island boys near the pigeons' cave. A year later his nurse is found dead on the rocks clutching identical otherworldly flowers, said to have been given to her by the drowned boy's ghost as a token of her coming death.

    Read the passage

    Then the boy called to his companions, the two young islanders, and told them he must catch the cormorants. So away they ran, down the path to the sea, hand in hand, and laughing as they went. Just then a piece of rock loosened and fell beside them, and trying to avoid it they slipped over the edge of the narrow path down a steep place, where there was nothing to hold on by except a large bush, in the middle of the way. They got hold of this, and thought they were now quite safe, but the bush was not strong enough to bear their weight, and it was torn up by the roots. And all three fell straight down into the sea and were drowned.

    Now, at the sound of the great cry that came up from the waves, the nurse awoke, but saw no one. Then she woke up the little sister. “It is late,” she cried, “they must have gone home. We have slept too long, it is already evening; let us hasten and overtake them, before the prince is back from the fishing.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 18

17. The Drowning Curse of Innis-Sark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A woman on Innis-Sark curses a man at the Saints' Well after he insults her, and he later drowns in a squall. When she gloats over his corpse on the shore, a sudden storm hurls her into the sea, and both bodies vanish forever.

    Read the passage

    There was a woman of the Island of Innis-Sark who was determined to take revenge on a man because he called her by an evil name. So she went to the Saints’ Well, and, kneeling down, she took some of the water and poured it on the ground in the name of the devil, saying, “So may my enemy be poured out like water, and lie helpless on the earth!” Then she went round the well backwards on her knees, and at each station she cast a stone in the name of the devil, and said, “So may the curse fall on him, and the power of the devil crush him!” After this she returned home.

    Now the next morning there was a stiff breeze, and some of the men were afraid to go out fishing; but others said they would try their luck, and amongst them was the man on whom the curse rested. But they had not gone far from land when the boat was capsized by a heavy squall. The fishermen, however, saved themselves by swimming to shore; all except the man on whom the curse rested, and he sank like lead to the bottom, and the waves covered him, and he was drowned.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 23

18. The Widow's Curse That Drowned a Man of Inishark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A woman of Innis-Sark, insulted by a neighbour, cursed him at the Saints' Well by pouring water and casting stones in the devil's name. The man drowned when his boat capsized, and as the woman exulted over his corpse on the shore, a storm hurled her from the rocks; she and the dead man vanished together under the waves.

    Read the passage

    When the woman heard of the fate that had befallen her enemy, she ran to the beach and clapped her hands with joy and exulted. And as she stood there laughing with strange and horrid mirth, the corpse of the man she had cursed slowly rose up from the sea, and came drifting towards her till it lay almost at her very feet. On this she stooped down to feast her eyes on the sight of the dead man, when suddenly a storm of wind screamed past her, and hurled her from the point of rock where she stood. And when the people ran in all haste to help, no trace of her body could be seen. The woman and the corpse of the man she had cursed disappeared together under the waves, and were never seen again from that time forth.

    * * * * *

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 23

19. Kathleen of Inishark and the Ring of Herbs

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A young girl of Innis-Sark, grieving her dead lover, was given a ring of herbs by a lady in white; burning its leaves each night threw her into trances in which she danced with her dead lover among the fairies. When her mother made the sign of the cross over her and the priest cursed the charm to ashes, Kathleen weakened and lay dead before midnight.

    Read the passage

    And her features looked like one in a fit. Then the poor mother sent for the priest, who came at once, and threw holy water on the girl, and said prayers over her; and he took the ring of herbs that lay beside her and cursed it for evermore, and instantly it fell to powder and lay like grey ashes on the floor. After this Kathleen grew calmer, and the evil spirit seemed to have left her, but she was too weak to move or to speak, or to utter a prayer, and before the clock struck twelve that night she lay dead.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 26

20. The Lady Witch of Joyce Country

    near Joyce Country · townland · Galway

    A wealthy woman in Joyce Country was suspected of being a witch who sold herself to the Devil, riding out at night on a phantom horse and using magic to steal goods from her neighbours. A young man discovered she transformed sleeping guests into horses with a bridle; he turned the bridle on her instead, had her shod at a forge, and she died in shame with iron shoes permanently fixed to her limbs.

    Read the passage

    So the word went through the county that she had sold herself to the Evil One, and could have everything she wanted by merely wishing and willing, and because of her riches they called her “The Lady Witch.”

    She never went out but at night, and then always with a bridle and whip in her hand; and the sound of a horse galloping was heard often far on in the night along the roads near her house.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 13

21. Massacre of the Bristol Colony in Dublin

    Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1172–1202

    King Henry gave Dublin to settlers from Bristol after expelling the Danes, but thirty years later the Irish descended from the Wicklow hills and slaughtered the unpopular colony in a general massacre.

    Read the passage

    Accordingly a colony from that town, famed for deficiency in personal attractions, came over and settled here; but thirty years after, the Irish, whose instincts of beauty were no doubt offended by the rising generation of Bristolians, poured down from the Wicklow hills upon the ill-favoured colony, and made a quick ending of them by a general massacre.

    In a fit of penitence, also, for the murdered À Becket, Henry founded the Abbey of Thomas Court, from which Thomas Street derives its name, and then the excommunicated king quitted Ireland, leaving it unchanged, save that Henry the Norman held the possessions of Torkil the Dane, and Dublin, from a Danish, had become a Norman city. Five hundred years more had to elapse before English jurisdiction extended beyond the ancient Danish pale, and a Cromwell or a William of Nassau was needed for the final conquest of Ireland, as well as for the redemption of England.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, King Henry settled colonists from Bristol after he expelled the Danes from Dublin. The Bristolians were, as the old book puts it, "famed for deficiency in personal attractions." Thirty years later, around 1202, the Irish poured down from the Wicklow hills and massacred the lot of them. Henry had also founded the Abbey of Thomas Court nearby in penitence for the murdered à Becket, which is where Thomas Street gets its name. Then the excommunicated king left Ireland, and Dublin had gone from a Danish to a Norman city. Five hundred years more would pass before English jurisdiction stretched beyond the old Danish pale.

22. The Hartpole Doom: A Priest's Curse at Shrule Castle

    Shrule · townland · Laois · 1558–1603

    Sir Richard Hartpole of Shrule Castle, an upholder of the English faction during the Elizabethan wars, seized a priest named O'More who had come on a friendly mission and had him hanged in the courtyard. Before dying, the priest gave three fearful screams and cursed the Hartpole race, declaring every male descendant would utter three terrible death screeches and the line would perish. The prophecy was fulfilled: the property was lost, the castle fell to ruin, and the family became extinct, the last Hartpole dying of want and hunger.

    Read the passage

    The words of O’More only made the tyrant more furious, and the priest was hung at once in the courtyard before the eyes of Hartpole. But the prophecy of doom was fulfilled—the property perished, the castle became a ruin. The last Hartpole died miserably of want and hunger, and the whole race finally has become extinct.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 58

23. The Cursing Stones of Innis-Murry

    Inishmurray · townland · Sligo

    On Innis-Murry, seventy-three ancient stones lying on a great table-stone were believed to hold anathematic power. Islanders wronged by an enemy would turn the stones and utter a curse, and the guilty party was believed doomed to die or suffer calamity within the year.

    Read the passage

    On these seventy-three stones all the anathematic spirit of the island is concentrated. If the islanders suffer any injury, real or supposed, they come and turn these stones, uttering a malediction over their enemy, and should he be guilty he will assuredly die, or suffer some calamity before the year is out.

    A Scripture reader, having boldly taken away one of these stones to show the folly of the superstition, was obliged to restore it and to quit the island, or his life would not have been safe.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 93

24. The Fairy-Stroke at the Dance of the Dead, Inishark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A woman of Shark Island, out late on the last night of November, was shown a hillside where all the dead she could remember danced in white with the fairies, warned by the ghost of young Brien who had drowned the year before. The fairies danced round her in a circle; she woke at home with the fairy-stroke and died as the moon rose, to soft low music round the house.

    Read the passage

    But while they were talking, the fairies came up and danced round her in a circle, joining their hands. And she fell to the ground in a faint, and knew no more till she woke up in the morning in her own bed at home. And they all saw that her face was pale as the dead, and they knew that she had got the fairy-stroke. So the herb doctor was sent for, and every measure tried to save her, but without avail, for just as the moon rose that night, soft, low music was heard round the house, and when they looked at the woman she was dead.

    It is a custom amongst the people, when throwing away water at night, to cry out in a loud voice, “Take care of the water;” or, literally from the Irish, “Away with yourself from the water”—for they say the spirits of the dead last buried are then wandering about, and it would be dangerous if the water fell on them.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 28

25. Kathleen's Fatal Fairy Trance

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A grieving girl on Innis-Sark is given magical herbs by a fairy woman that let her visit her dead lover in trance, causing her to abandon prayer and religion. When her mother interrupts the ritual with the sign of the cross, Kathleen dies that same night despite the priest's intervention.

    Read the passage

    “Mother! mother! the dead are coming for me. They are here! they are here!”

    And her features looked like one in a fit. Then the poor mother sent for the priest, who came at once, and threw holy water on the girl, and said prayers over her; and he took the ring of herbs that lay beside her and cursed it for evermore, and instantly it fell to powder and lay like grey ashes on the floor. After this Kathleen grew calmer, and the evil spirit seemed to have left her, but she was too weak to move or to speak, or to utter a prayer, and before the clock struck twelve that night she lay dead.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 26

26. The Broken Leg Curse

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    Another woman on Shark Island, called a 'devil's hag,' invokes a curse at a holy well against a man who insulted her. Three days later he falls from a cliff and breaks his leg, confirming her reputation for witchcraft.

    Read the passage

    Another woman in Shark Island was considered to have an evil influence over any one she disliked. One day a man called her a devil’s hag in his anger. The woman answered nothing, but that night she went to a Holy Well near the place, and kneeling down, invoked a curse in the name of the devil. Then she went round the well three times backward on her knees, and each time threw a stone in the name of the devil, saying, “So may the curse fall on his head!” Then she returned home, and told the people to wait for three days, and they would see her words had power. During this time the man was afraid to go out in his boat because of the curse. But on the third day as he was walking by the cliff he fell and broke his leg. And then every one knew that the woman had the witch-secret of evil, and she was held in much fear.

    * * * * *

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 23

27. The Polluted Well and the Murderer's Mother

    High Island · townland · Galway

    The Well of St. Brendan on High Island loses its healing power after a murderer washes in it. The priest performs a ritual revealing the murderer's identity in a vision of mist and blood, and the horrified mother recognizes her own son.

    Read the passage

    Then she went to the priest and told him the story, and he perceived at once that the well had been polluted by the touch of some one who had committed a crime. So he bade the woman bring him a bottle of the water, and she did as he desired. Then having received the water, he poured it out, and breathed on it three times in the name of the Trinity; when, lo! the water turned into blood.

    “Here is the evil,” cried the priest. “A murderer has washed his hands in the well.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 22

28. The Battle of Clontarf and the Fall of the Sea-Kings

    Clontarf · townland · Dublin · 1014

    The pagan Scandinavian sea-kings raided Ireland's coasts and despoiled churches and monasteries from 795 until the battle of Clontarf in A.D. 1014, when their belligerent forces were finally expelled. During the battle Sitric, the Danish king of Dublin, watched the fight from the city walls beside his wife, daughter of Brian the Brave.

    Read the passage

    Having finished with the Milesians, we now come to the Danes (so-called), the Scandinavians or Norsemen—the pagan Sea-Kings who made inroads on our coasts, despoiled our churches and monasteries, but at the same time, it must be confessed, helped to establish the commercial prosperity of some of our cities and towns from 795 to the time of the battle of Clontarf, A.D. 1014, when the belligerent portion of the Scandinavians were finally expelled the country. During the time I have specified, Dublin, Limerick, and Waterford belonged to these Northern people. They not only coasted round the island and never lost an opportunity of pillage and plunder, but they passed through the interior and carried their arms into the very centre of the land. The Danes left us very little ornamental work beyond what they lavished upon their swords and helmets; but, on the other hand, it should be borne in mind that there are no Irish antiquities, either social, warlike, or ecclesiastical, in the Scandinavian Museums.

    Concerning their ethnological characters, I must again refer to the “Crania Britannica.” In the records they were designated strangers, foreigners, pagans, gentiles, and also white and black foreigners, so that there were undoubtedly two races—the dark, and the fair or red, like as in the case of the Firbolgs or Dananns. They were also styled “Azure Danes,” probably on account of the shining hue of their armour.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

29. The Bridal Field of Blood at Waterford

    Waterford · townland · Waterford · 1170

    After a great battle at Waterford in which the Normans were victorious over the Danes, the marriage of Strongbow and Eva, daughter of Dermot MacMurrough, was celebrated on the blood-soaked field, sealing the compact that brought Norman rule to Ireland.

    Read the passage

    Dermot had an only daughter remaining. He offered her in marriage to the Earl of Pembroke, with the whole kingdom of Leinster for her dowry, so as he would help him to his revenge. After a great battle against the Danes, in which the Normans were victorious, the marriage was celebrated at Waterford.

    “Sad Eva gazed All round that bridal field of blood, amazed; Spoused to new fortunes.”[18]

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

30. The Dead Dancers of Finvarra's Palace

    Galway · townland · Galway

    A gentleman of the Kirwans of Galway, riding by the fairy hill where the fairies of the West hold council, is befriended by Finvarra, wins a race with a fairy jockey, and is lured to a banquet where the dancers are all dead people he once knew, including his drowned brother and a girl he had loved. He escapes but carries the burn-mark of the dead girl's hand on his wrist to his last hour, and flings the silver cup into the lake as devil's magic.

    Read the passage

    Then, when the banquet was over, a great crowd of ladies and gentlemen came in and danced to sweet low music, and they circled round the guest and tried to draw him into the dance. But when he looked at them it seemed to him that they were all the dead he had once known; for his own brother was there, that had been drowned in the lake a year before; and a man who had been killed by a fall when hunting; and others whose faces he knew well. And they were all pale as death, but their eyes burned like coals of fire.

    And as he looked and wondered, a lovely lady came over to him, wearing a necklace of pearls. And she clasped his wrist with her little hand, and tried to draw him into the circle.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 111

31. The Farmer's Son Doomed to Die in Battle

    near River Boyne · townland · Kildare

    A hard, avaricious farmer living near the Boyne refuses to let spilled milk or baked cakes go to a poor starving child, provoking a witch-woman's curse that his only son will die in battle. Despite walling his son inside a stone hut to prevent it, the son escapes and is killed, and the grieving father dies soon after, his line perishing from the land.

    Read the passage

    A farmer once lived near the Boyne, close to an old churchyard. He was very rich, and had crops and cattle, but was so hard and avaricious that the people hated him; for his habit was to get up very early in the morning and go out to the fields to watch that no one took a cabbage or a turnip, or got a cup of milk when the cows were being milked, for the love of God and the saints.

    One morning, as he was out as usual by sunrise spying about the place, he heard a child crying bitterly—

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 16

32. The Slaughter of the Danes at Dublin Castle

    Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1170

    When Dermot's Norman allies took Dublin, the Danes, fearing Dermot's wrath, offered gold and silver for their lives, but the Norman knights massacred them within their own fortress and drove the survivors into the sea, ending four centuries of Danish rule.

    Read the passage

    From Waterford to Dublin was a progress of victory to Dermot and his allies, for they marched only through the Danish settlements of which Dermot was feudal lord. At Dublin King Roderick opposed them with an army. Three days the battle raged; then the Danes of Dublin, fearing Dermot’s wrath, opened their gates, and offered him gold and silver in abundance if he would spare their lives; but, heedless of treaties, the Norman knights rushed in, slew the Danes in their own fortress, drove the rest to the sea; and thus ended the Danish dynasty of four centuries. Never more did they own a foot of ground throughout the length or breadth of the land. An Irish army, aided by Norman skill, had effected their complete extinction. The Kingdom of Leinster was regained for Dermot, and he and his allies placed a garrison in Dublin. This was the last triumph of the ancient race. The kingdom was lost even at the moment it seemed regained. That handful of Scythian warriors, scarcely visible amid Dermot’s great Irish army, are destined to place the yoke upon the neck of ancient Ireland.

    The brave Roderick gathered together another army, and, with sixty thousand men, laid siege to Dublin, O’Rourke of Breffny aiding him. They were repulsed. O’Rourke was taken prisoner, and hanged with his head downwards, then beheaded and the head stuck on one of the centre gates of the castle, “a spectacle of intense pity to the Irish;” and Roderick retired into Connaught to recruit more forces.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here is the site of the Slaughter of the Danes at Dublin Castle. In 1170, Dermot and his Norman allies fought King Roderick for three days. The Danes of Dublin, fearing Dermot's wrath, opened their gates and offered gold and silver in abundance if he would spare their lives. But the Norman knights, heedless of treaties, rushed in, slew the Danes in their own fortress, and drove the rest to the sea. Thus ended the Danish dynasty of four centuries. Never more did they own a foot of ground throughout the length or breadth of the land. The Kingdom of Leinster was regained for Dermot, and he placed a garrison in Dublin. But this was the last triumph of the ancient race. The kingdom was lost even at the moment it seemed regained. That handful of Scythian warriors, scarcely visible amid Dermot's great Irish army, are destined to place the yoke upon the neck of ancient Ireland. Roderick gathered another army, and with 60,000 men laid siege to Dublin, O'Rourke of Breffny aiding him. They were repulsed. O'Rourke was taken prisoner, hanged with his head downwards, then beheaded, and his head stuck on one of the centre gates of the castle, "a spectacle of intense pity to the Irish." Roderick retired into Connaught to recruit more forces.

33. Fairies Nearly Drown a Mortal on the Rock off Shark Island

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A man of Shark Island who beat his wife joined a fairy troop of horsemen to leap across the sea to Boffin for tobacco. On the return, the horses halted at a great rock midway between the islands, where the fairies discovered a mortal among them and cast him from the top of the rock to drown him. A red-haired man rescued him, warning he would die on that rock if he ever ill-treated his wife again.

    Read the passage

    And they carried the man up to the top of the rock and cast him down; and when he rose to the surface again they caught him by the hair, and cried—

    “Drown him! Drown him! We have the power over life and death; he must be drowned.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 10

34. Midnight Arrest of Lord Maguire in Cook Street

    Cook Street · townland · Dublin · 1641

    Lord Maguire was seized at midnight in Cook Street, Dublin, in circumstances resembling the later capture of Lord Edward Fitzgerald. The event was commemorated annually in the parish, with the bells of St. Andrew's Church tolled at midnight on the anniversary until 1829.

    Read the passage

    Every stone throughout this ancient quarter of Dublin has a history. In Cook Street Lord Maguire was arrested at midnight, under circumstances very similar to the capture of Lord Edward Fitzgerald; and “to commemorate this capture in the parish it was the annual custom, down to the year 1829, to toll the bells of St. Andrew’s Church at twelve o’clock on the night of the 22nd of October.”

    In Bridge Street great lords and peers of the realm resided. The Marquis of Antrim, the Duke of Marlborough’s father; Westenra, the Dutch merchant who founded the family afterwards ennobled, and others. It was the Merrion Square of the day. In Bridge Street the rebellion of ’98 was organized at the house of Oliver Bond; and one night Major Swan, led by Reynolds the informer, seized twelve gentlemen there, all of whom were summarily hanged as rebels. Castle Street was the focus of the rebellion of 1641; Sir Phelim O’Neill and Lord Maguire had their residences there, and concocted together how to seize the Castle, destroy all the lords and council, and re-establish Popery in Ireland. But a more useful man than either lived there also—Sir James Ware, whose indefatigable ardour in the cause of Irish literature caused him to collect, with great trouble and expense, a vast number of Irish manuscripts, which, after passing through many vicissitudes, are now deposited in the British Museum. The French family of Latouche came to Castle Street about one hundred years ago, and one of them, in 1778, upheld the shattered credit of the Government by a loan of £20,000 to the Lord-Lieutenant. Fishamble Street has historical and classic memories, and traditions of Handel consecrate this now obscure locality.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Cook Street, you are passing through one of the oldest quarters of Dublin, where every stone has a history. It was here, in 1641, that Lord Maguire was arrested at midnight, under circumstances very similar to the later capture of Lord Edward Fitzgerald. To commemorate this capture in the parish, it became the annual custom, down to the year 1829, to toll the bells of St. Andrew's Church at twelve o'clock on the night of the 22nd of October. Maguire had been living a short distance away in Castle Street, which was the focus of the rebellion of 1641. Sir Phelim O'Neill had his residence there too, and the two of them concocted together a plan to seize the Castle, destroy all the lords and council, and re-establish Popery in Ireland. The plan came to nothing for Maguire on this street. He was seized in the dark, and the parish did not forget it. For nearly two centuries, the bells of St. Andrew's rang out at midnight on the anniversary, marking the moment he was taken, until the tolling finally stopped in 1829.

35. Roderick Blinds His Own Son at Connaught

    Connaught · townland

    When his own son, who had leagued with the Normans and fought in their ranks, was brought before him as a prisoner, King Roderick, acting with stern and heroic justice, ordered the young man's eyes to be put out.

    Read the passage

    There is something heroic and self-devoted in the efforts which, for eighteen years, were made by Roderick against the Norman power. Brave, learned, just, and enlightened beyond his age, he alone of all the Irish princes saw the direful tendency of the Norman inroad. All the records of his reign prove that he was a wise and powerful monarch. He had a fleet on the Shannon, the like of which had never been seen before. He built a royal residence in Connaught, the ruins of which are still existing to attest its former magnificence, so far beyond all structures of the period, that it was known in Ireland as the beautiful house. He founded a chair of literature at Armagh, and left an endowment in perpetuity, to maintain it for the instruction of the youth of Ireland and Scotland. A great warrior, and a fervent patriot, his first effort, when he obtained the crown, was to humble the Danish power. Dublin was forced to pay him tribute, and he was inaugurated there with a grandeur and luxury unknown before. When Dermot outraged morality, he deposed and banished him. When Dermot further sinned, and traitorously brought over the foreigner, Roderick, with stern justice, avenged the father’s treason by the son’s life. His own son, the heir of his kingdom, leagued with the Normans, and was found fighting in their ranks. Roderick, like a second Brutus, unpitying, yet heroically just, when the youth was brought a prisoner before him, himself ordered his eyes to be put out. His second son also turned traitor, and covenanted with the Normans to deprive his father of the kingdom. Then Roderick, surrounded by foreign foes and domestic treachery, quitted Connaught, and went through the provinces of Ireland, seeking to stir up a spirit as heroic as his own in the hearts of his countrymen. Soon after his unworthy son was killed in some broil, and Roderick resumed the kingly functions; but while all the other Irish princes took the oath of fealty to King Henry, he kept aloof beyond the Shannon, equally disdaining treachery or submission. His last son, the only one worthy of him, being defeated in a battle by the Normans, slew himself in despair.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

36. The Drowned Branch-Cutters of Toome Island

    Toome · townland · Antrim

    At the ruined ancient church on Toome Island, where the dead walk on November Eve, nothing may be taken from the sacred ground. Three men who cut branches from an elder-tree there to repair a still were drowned when a gust of wind upset their boat close to shore; the wood floated back to the island and was made into a memorial cross on the beach. A stone later taken from the ruin for the parish church wall dried up the town well until it was ceremonially returned.

    Read the passage

    At Toome Island there is the ruin of an ancient church, where the dead walk on November Eve. It is a solemn and sacred place, and nothing is allowed to be taken from it; neither stone nor branch of the shadowing trees, for fear of angering the spirits. One day three men who were on the island cut down some branches of an elder-tree that grew there to repair a private still, and carried them off in their boat; but when just close to the shore a violent gust of wind upset the boat, and the men were drowned. The wood, however, floated back to the island, and a cross was made of it which was erected on the beach, to commemorate the fate of the doomed men.

    It is recorded, also, that a certain stone having been taken away by some masons from the ancient ruin, to build into the wall of the parish church, which they were erecting in the place, the water in the town well suddenly began to diminish, and at last dried up, to the great consternation and terror of the inhabitants, who were at their wits’ end to know the cause; when luckily an old woman of the place dreamed a dream about the abduction of the stone, which gave the solution of the mystery.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 107

37. The Fairy Court of Inishbofin at Full Moon

    near Inishbofin · townland · Galway

    At Innisboffin the fairies are said to hold a splendid court with revelry and dancing when the moon is full. Young girls out at that time will assuredly be carried off, and any who hear the fairy music or drink the fairy wine are doomed to disappear or die before the year is out.

    Read the passage

    At Innisboffin the fairies hold a splendid court, with revelry and dancing, when the moon is full; and it is very dangerous for young girls to be out at that time, for they will assuredly be carried off. And if they once hear the fairy music or drink of the fairy wine, they will never be the same again—a fate is on them, and before the year is out they will either disappear or die.

    And the fairies are always on the watch for the handsome girls or children; for they look on mortals as of much higher race than themselves. And they are also glad to have the fine young men, the sons of mortal women, to assist them in their wars with each other; for there are two parties amongst the fairy spirits, one a gentle race that loves music and dancing, the other that has obtained power from the devil, and is always trying to work evil.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 23

38. The Kern of Querin Rescues a Fairy-Stolen Bride

    Querrin · townland · Clare · 1670

    About 1670, the Kern of Querin, out shooting wild fowl on November Eve, fired on four men carrying a bier and rescued an entranced young girl, O'Connor's daughter, who had been carried off by the fairies. She lived with him a year unable to eat or speak until he overheard fairy voices at the ruined fort Lios-na-fallainge reveal that the spell would break if she ate off her father's table-cloth. He broke the spell, restored her to her father, and later married her.

    Read the passage

    But presently he saw a dark mass moving along the edge of the strand. And he knew there were no wild geese near him. So he watched and waited till the black mass came closer, and then he distinctly perceived four stout men carrying a bier on their shoulders, on which lay a corpse covered with a white cloth. For a few moments they laid it down, apparently to rest themselves, and the Kern instantly fired; on which the four men ran away shrieking, and the corpse was left alone on the bier. Kern of Querin immediately sprang to the place, and lifting the cloth from the face of the corpse, beheld by the freezing starlight, the form of a beautiful young girl, apparently not dead but in a deep sleep.

    Gently he passed his hand over her face and raised her up, when she opened her eyes and looked around with wild wonder, but spake never a word, though he tried to soothe and encourage her. Then, thinking it was dangerous for them to remain in that place, he raised her from the bier, and taking her hand led her away to his own house. They arrived safely, but in silence. And for twelve months did she remain with the Kern, never tasting food or speaking word for all that time.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 7

39. The Treacherous Feast at Lis-na-Keeran

    Killary Harbour · townland · Galway

    A chief at the fort of Lis-na-Keeran near the Killeries invites Fionn Ma-Coul and his Fenian knights to a banquet, treacherously fixing them to enchanted benches by magic to be slain. Oscar kills a warrior and sprinkles his blood on the knights to free them, though one man is left permanently maimed.

    Read the passage

    So Oscar and his father would take no place, but stood watching, for they suspected treachery. The knights, however, fearing nothing, sat down to the feast, but were instantly fixed to the benches so firmly by magic, that they could neither rise nor move.

    Then Fionn began to chew his thumb, from which he always derived knowledge of the future, and by his magic power he saw clearly a great and terrible warrior riding fiercely towards the fort, and Fionn knew that unless he could be stopped before crossing a certain ford, they must all die, for they had been brought to Lis-na-Keeran only to be slain by their treacherous host; and unless the warrior was killed and his blood sprinkled on the Fenian knights, they must remain fixed on the wooden benches for ever.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 31

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Killary Harbour stood the fort of Lis-na-Keeran, where a chief invited Fionn and his Fenian knights to a banquet. It was a trap. The knights sat down and were instantly fixed to the benches by magic, unable to rise or move. Oscar and his father had suspected treachery and refused to sit. Fionn chewed his thumb, from which he always drew knowledge of the future, and saw a great warrior riding fiercely toward the fort. He knew that unless this warrior was stopped before crossing a certain ford, they would all die, brought there only to be slain by their treacherous host. Unless the warrior was killed and his blood sprinkled on the knights, they would remain fixed to those benches forever.

40. Dun Aengus, Stronghold of the Firbolg

    Inishmore · townland · Galway

    Dun Ængus, the greatest barbaric monument of its kind, stands on a cliff three hundred feet above the sea on the Aran Islands. It was the last stronghold of the Firbolg race, held as a refuge against the invading Tuatha-de-Danann.

    Read the passage

    This fort was the great and last stronghold of the Firbolg race, and they long held it as a refuge against the _Tuatha-de-Danann_ invaders, who at that time conquered and took possession of Ireland.

    All the islands were originally peopled by the Firbolg race many centuries before the Christian era, and the Irish language, as still spoken by the people, is the purest and most ancient of all the dialects of Erin. Afterwards so many Christian saints took up their abode there that the largest of the islands was called _Ara-na-naomh_ (Aran of the Saints), and numerous remains of churches, cells, crosses and stone-roofed oratories, with the ruins of a round tower, testify to the long habitation of the islands by these holy men.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 18

41. Dungeons and Slow Murder: the Dark Secrets of Dublin Castle

    Dublin · townland · Dublin

    Dublin Castle is described as a gloomy pile where dark, secret, and cruel scenes were enacted over seven centuries — dungeons, treacheries, swift death and slow murder. Irish princes and chieftains caught in the Norman stronghold invoked God and St. Mary in vain, and no Irishman of the old race ever held rule there.

    Read the passage

    Strange scenes, dark, secret, and cruel, have been enacted in that gloomy pile. No one has told the full story yet. It will be a Ratcliffe romance of dungeons and treacheries, of swift death or slow murder. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain that was caught in that Norman stronghold; but that was in the old time—long, long ago. Now the castle courts are crowded only with loyal and courtly crowds, gathered to pay homage to the illustrious successor of a hundred viceroys.

    The strangest scene, perhaps, in the annals of vice-royalty, was when Lord Thomas Fitzgerald (Silken Thomas), son of the Earl of Kildare, and Lord-Lieutenant in his father’s absence, took up arms for Irish independence. He rode through the city with seven score horsemen, in shirts of mail and silken fringes on their head-pieces (hence the name Silken Thomas), to St. Mary’s Abbey, and there entering the council chamber, he flung down the sword of state upon the table, and bade defiance to the king and his ministers; then hastening to raise an army, he laid siege to Dublin Castle, but with no success. Silken Thomas and his five uncles were sent to London, and there executed; and sixteen Fitzgeralds were hanged and quartered at Dublin. By a singular fatality, no plot laid against Dublin Castle ever succeeded; though to obtain possession of this foreign fortress was the paramount wish of all Irish rebel leaders. This was the object with Lord Maguire and his Catholics, with Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his republicans, with Emmet and his enthusiasts, with Smith O’Brien and his nationalists—yet they all failed. Once only, during seven centuries, the green flag waved over Dublin Castle, with the motto—“NOW OR NEVER! NOW AND FOR EVER!” It was when Tyrconnel held it for King James.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here stands Dublin Castle, a gloomy pile where dark, secret, and cruel scenes were enacted over seven centuries. Dungeons, treacheries, swift death and slow murder — no one has told the full story yet. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain caught in that Norman stronghold. No Irishman of the old race ever held rule there. Today the courts are crowded only with loyal gatherings paying homage to the successor of a hundred viceroys. The strangest scene in the annals of vice-royalty came when Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, called Silken Thomas, son of the Earl of Kildare and Lord-Lieutenant in his father's absence, took up arms for Irish independence. He rode through the city with 140 horsemen in shirts of mail and silken fringes on their head-pieces, giving him his name. At St. Mary's Abbey he entered the council chamber, flung down the sword of state upon the table, and bade defiance to the king and his ministers. He raised an army and laid siege to Dublin Castle, but with no success. Silken Thomas and his five uncles were sent to London and executed. Sixteen Fitzgeralds were hanged and quartered at Dublin. By a singular fatality, no plot laid against Dublin Castle ever succeeded. Lord Maguire and his Catholics failed, Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his republicans failed, Emmet and his enthusiasts failed, Smith O'Brien and his nationalists failed. Once only during seven centuries did the green flag wave over the castle, bearing the motto, "Now or never! Now and for ever!" It was when Tyrconnel held it for King James.

42. Ireton Dies of Plague After the Siege of Limerick

    Limerick · townland · Limerick · 1651

    During Cromwell's rule in Ireland, his son-in-law Ireton died of the plague after the siege of Limerick, one of several plague deaths that devastated the Cromwellian command in Ireland.

    Read the passage

    The great Oliver Cromwell was the Lord-Lieutenant of the Parliament, and he in turn appointed his son Henry to succeed him. Dire are the memories connected with Cromwell’s reign here, both to his own party and to Ireland. Ireton died of the plague after the siege of Limerick; General Jones died of the plague after the surrender of Dungarvon; a thousand of Cromwell’s men died of the plague before Waterford. The climate, in its effect upon English constitutions, seems to be the great Nemesis of Ireland’s wrongs.

    Strange scenes, dark, secret, and cruel, have been enacted in that gloomy pile. No one has told the full story yet. It will be a Ratcliffe romance of dungeons and treacheries, of swift death or slow murder. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain that was caught in that Norman stronghold; but that was in the old time—long, long ago. Now the castle courts are crowded only with loyal and courtly crowds, gathered to pay homage to the illustrious successor of a hundred viceroys.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Limerick, in 1651, the siege of the city ended, and the plague followed. Ireton, Cromwell's son-in-law, died of the plague after the siege of Limerick. He was not alone. General Jones died of the plague after the surrender of Dungarvon. A thousand of Cromwell's men died of the plague before Waterford. Oliver Cromwell was Lord-Lieutenant of the Parliament, and he appointed his son Henry to succeed him. The memories of Cromwell's reign here are dire, both for his own party and for Ireland. The book says "the climate, in its effect upon English constitutions, seems to be the great Nemesis of Ireland's wrongs." Strange scenes, dark, secret, and cruel, were enacted in that gloomy pile. No one has told the full story yet. It will be a tale of dungeons and treacheries, of swift death or slow murder. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain caught in that Norman stronghold. That was in the old time, long ago.

43. Shaun-Mor's Night Ride: Fairy Vengeance on Inishark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    On the island of Innis-Sark, an old man called Shaun-Mor boasted he had travelled at night with the fairies and could overpower them. Angered by his pride, the fairies played a malicious trick on him: an eagle carried him to the moon, a pale dead man struck him over its edge with a reaping-hook, and he fell through the sea before waking in his own field, insisting the ordeal was the work of the fairies.

    Read the passage

    There was an old man on the island called Shaun-Mor, who said that he had often travelled at night with the little men and carried their sacks for them; and in return they gave him strange fairy gifts and taught him the secret of power, so that he could always triumph over his enemies; and even as to the fairies, he was as wise as any of them, and could fight half a dozen of them together if he were so minded, and pitch them into the sea or strangle them with seaweed. So the fairies were angered at his pride and presumption, and determined to do him a malicious turn, just to amuse themselves when they were up for fun. So one night when he was returning home, he suddenly saw a great river between him and his house.

    “How shall I get across now?” he cried aloud; and immediately an eagle came up to him.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 36

44. The Danes Take Refuge on Ireland's Eye

    Ireland's Eye · townland · Dublin

    After being driven completely out of Dublin by the Irish, the Danes took refuge on the lone sea rock known as Ireland's Eye, a place later made memorable by a tragic history of its own.

    Read the passage

    Sometimes the Irish kings hired them as mercenaries to assist in the civil wars which raged perennially amongst them. Sometimes there were intermarriages between the warring foes—the daughter of Brian Boro’ wedded Sitric, King of the Danes of Dublin. Occasionally the Irish kings got possession of Dublin, and ravaged and pillaged in return. Once the Danes were driven forth completely from the city, and forced to take refuge upon “Ireland’s Eye,” the lone sea rock, since made memorable by a tragic history. Malachy, King of Meath, besieged Dublin for three days and three nights, burned the fortress, and carried off the Danish regalia; hence the allusion in Moore’s song to “The Collar of Gold which he won from the proud invader.” But the most terrible defeat the Danes ever sustained was at Clontarf, when ten thousand men in coats of mail were opposed to King Brian; but “the ten thousand in armour were cut in pieces, and three thousand warriors slain besides.” Even the Irish children fought against the invader. The grandchild of King Brian, a youth of fifteen, was found dead with his hand fast bound in the hair of a Dane’s head, whom the child had dragged to the sea.[17]

    [17] Hogan, the great historical sculptor of Ireland, has illustrated this era of Irish history by a fine group, heroic and poetical in idea, as well as beautiful in execution, like every work that proceeded from the gifted mind of this distinguished artist.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

45. The Demon Cat of Connemara

    near Connemara · townland · Galway

    A monstrous black cat repeatedly terrorised a fisherman's household in Connemara, devouring their fish and viciously attacking anyone who resisted it, seemingly impervious to blows. The wife finally destroyed the creature by throwing holy water on it, causing it to burn away to a shrivelled cinder and vanish, revealing it as a demon.

    Read the passage

    But presently the mistress returned, carrying with her a bottle of holy water; and looking in, she saw the cat still devouring the fish, and not minding. So she crept over quietly and threw the holy water on it without a word. No sooner was this done than a dense black smoke filled the place, through which nothing was seen but the two red eyes of the cat, burning like coals of fire. Then the smoke gradually cleared away, and she saw the body of the creature burning slowly till it became shrivelled and black like a cinder, and finally disappeared. And from that time the fish remained untouched and safe from harm, for the power of the Evil One was broken, and the demon cat was seen no more.

    * * * * *

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 65

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, a fisherman's household was plagued by a monstrous black cat that devoured their fish and attacked anyone who tried to stop it. No blow could harm the creature. The fisherman's wife finally took a bottle of holy water and crept over quietly while the cat was still eating, and threw it on the beast without a word. A dense black smoke filled the place, and through it nothing could be seen but the cat's two red eyes burning like coals of fire. The smoke slowly cleared, and the body of the creature burned till it shrivelled black like a cinder and disappeared. The fish was never touched again, for the power of the Evil One was broken, and the demon cat was seen no more.

46. The Lady Witch of Joyce Country Shod Like a Mare

    near Joyce Country · townland · Galway · 1787

    About a hundred years before 1887, a rich woman in Joyce Country was said to have sold herself to the Evil One, bridling young men who drank her Spanish wine and riding them as horses to plunder the countryside by night. A young man turned the bridle on her, changing her into a grey mare, and had a smith shoe her; the shoes could not be removed from her hands and feet. She died soon after of grief and shame, no one would follow her coffin, and her bridle and riches were burned to ashes.

    Read the passage

    Then a strange story was whispered about, that if a young man drank of her Spanish wines at supper and afterwards fell asleep, she would throw the bridle over him and change him to a horse, and ride him all over the country, and whatever she touched with her whip became hers. Fowls, or butter, or wine, or the new-made cakes—she had but to wish and will and they were carried by spirit hands to her house, and laid in her larder. Then when the ride was done, and she had gathered enough through the country of all she wanted, she took the bridle off the young man, and he came back to his own shape and fell asleep; and when he awoke he had no knowledge of all that had happened, and the Lady Witch bade him come again and drink of her Spanish wines as often as it pleased him.

    Now there was a fine brave young fellow in the neighbourhood, and he determined to make out the truth of the story. So he often went back and forwards, and made friends with the Lady Witch, and sat down to talk to her, but always on the watch. And she took a great fancy to him and told him he must come to supper some night, and she would give him the best of everything, and he must taste her Spanish wine.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 13

47. The Mystic Adept of Innis-Sark

    Inishshark · townland · Galway

    A man living on Innis-Sark was said to possess strange mystic gifts, able to heal diseases by a word and read the secret thoughts of men. He lived an ascetic life, held burial grounds sacred, and once cursed an enemy by reciting the Lord's Prayer backwards.

    Read the passage

    A man now living at Innis-Sark has this strange and mystic gift. He can heal diseases by a word, even at a distance, and his glance sees into the very heart, and reads the secret thoughts of men. He never touched beer, spirits, or meat, in all his life, but has lived entirely on bread, fruit, and vegetables. A man who knew him thus describes him—“Winter and summer his dress is the same, merely a flannel shirt and coat. He will pay his share at a feast, but neither eats nor drinks of the food and drink set before him. He speaks no English, and never could be made to learn the English tongue, though he says it might be used with great effect to curse one’s enemy. He holds a burial-ground sacred, and would not carry away so much as a leaf of ivy from a grave. And he maintains that the people are right in keeping to their ancient usages, such as never to dig a grave on a Monday; and to carry the coffin three times round the grave, following the course of the sun, for then the dead rest in peace. Like the people, also, he holds suicides as accursed; for they believe that all the dead who have been recently buried turn over on their faces if a suicide is laid amongst them.

    “Though well off he never, even in his youth, thought of taking a wife, nor was he ever known to love a woman. He stands quite apart from life, and by this means holds his power over the mysteries. No money will tempt him to impart this knowledge to another, for if he did he would be struck dead—so he believes. He would not touch a hazel stick, but carries an ash wand, which he holds in his hand when he prays, laid across his knees, and the whole of his life is devoted to works of grace and charity.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 40

48. Viking Fleets on the Liffey: A Captive King Slain in His Gyves

    Dublin · townland · Dublin

    A fleet of sixty strange sail entered the Boyne while another of equal number sailed up the Liffey, spreading consternation through Ireland. The Norse invaders sacked, burned, pillaged and murdered, putting a captive king to death in his own fetters beside their ships and driving the Irish from the ocean to the Shannon.

    Read the passage

    Great consternation must have been in Ireland when the report spread that a fleet of sixty strange sail was in the Boyne, and that another of equal number was sailing up the Liffey. The foreigners leaped from their ships to conquest. Daring brought success; they sacked, burned, pillaged, murdered; put a captive king to death in his own gyves at their ships; drove the Irish before them from the ocean to the Shannon; till, with roused spirit and gathered force, the confederate kings of Ireland in return drove back the white foreigners from the Shannon to the ocean. But they had gained a footing, and inroads, with plunder and devastation, never ceased from that time till the whole eastern sea-border of Ireland was their own. There they established themselves for four centuries, holding their first conquests, but never gaining more, until they were finally expelled by the Normans.

    To these red-haired pirates and marauders Dublin owes its existence as a city. The _Ath-Cliath_ of the Irish, though of ancient fame, was but an aggregate of huts by the side of the Liffey, which was crossed by a bridge of hurdles. The kings of Ireland never made it a royal residence, even after Tara was cursed by St. Rodan. Their palaces were in the interior of the island; but no doubt exists that _Ath-Cliath_, the Eblana of Ptolemy, was a well-known port, the resort of merchantmen from the most ancient times. There were received the Spanish wines, the Syrian silks, the Indian gold, destined for the princes and nobles; and from thence the costly merchandize was transported to the interior.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, sixty strange sails came up the Liffey while another fleet of equal number entered the Boyne, and the whole of Ireland was thrown into terror. The Norsemen leaped from their ships to conquest. They sacked, burned, pillaged and murdered, and they put a captive king to death in his own fetters beside the ships. They drove the Irish before them from the ocean to the Shannon, until the confederate kings of Ireland roused themselves and drove the white foreigners back to the sea. But the invaders had gained a footing. From that time on, inroads of plunder and devastation never ceased until the whole eastern sea-border of Ireland was theirs. They held it for 4 centuries, keeping their first conquests but gaining no more, until the Normans finally expelled them. Dublin owes its existence as a city to these red-haired pirates. The Irish knew this place as Ath-Cliath, an aggregate of huts by the Liffey, crossed by a bridge of hurdles. The kings of Ireland never made it a royal residence, even after Tara was cursed by St. Rodan. But Ath-Cliath was a well-known port from ancient times. Here came Spanish wines, Syrian silks, and Indian gold, destined for the princes and nobles, and from here that costly merchandise was carried to the interior.

49. The Dark Horseman on the Road to Slane

    Slane · townland · Meath

    Jemmy Nowlan, walking to the fair at Slane, is abducted by a dark horseman on a black horse and carried to a fairy castle. Cast out for having no story, he is forced by three men to carry a coffin and dig graves in old churchyards by night, and is nearly laid in the coffin himself before felling his assailants with a hazel switch. He wakes under a haystack in his own field with nothing left of the adventure but the hazel twig.

    Read the passage

    One day a fine, handsome young fellow, called Jemmy Nowlan, set off to walk to the fair at Slane, whither some cattle of his had been sent off for sale that same morning early. And he was dressed in his best clothes, spruce and neat; and not one in all the county round could equal Jemmy Nowlan for height, strength, or good looks. So he went along quite gay and merry in himself, till he came to a lonely bit of the road where never a soul was to be seen; but just then the sky became black-dark, as if thunder were in the air, and suddenly he heard the tramp of a horse behind him. On turning round he saw a very dark, elegant looking gentleman, mounted on a black horse, riding swiftly towards him.

    “Jemmy Nowlan,” said the dark horseman, “I have been looking for you all along the road. Get up now, quickly, behind me, and I’ll carry you in no time to the great fair of Slane; for, indeed, I am going there myself, and it would be very pleasant to have your company.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 113

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, a young fellow called Jemmy Nowlan was walking to the fair at Slane one day, dressed in his best, when the sky turned black-dark on a lonely stretch of road. A dark gentleman on a black horse rode up and called him by name, saying he had been looking for him all along the road, and offering to carry him to the fair. Jemmy got up behind him, but that horseman carried him off to a fairy castle instead. They cast him out for having no story to tell, and then three men forced him to carry a coffin and dig graves in old churchyards by night. They nearly laid him in the coffin himself, but he felled them with a hazel switch. When he woke, he was under a haystack in his own field, with nothing left of it all but the hazel twig.

50. Ghost Boats and Stolen Children at the Hen's Castle

    Castlekirk · townland · Galway

    At Caisleen-na-Cearca, the ruined Hen's Castle standing in the water at the head of Lough Corrib, strange lights flit through the ruin, and on certain midnights a crowd of boats manned by figures in green with red sashes rows about until cockcrow. When they vanish and the cries of children are heard in the air, the people know the Sidhe have stolen mortal children and left changelings in their cradles.

    Read the passage

    At the head of Lough Corrib, deep in the water about a gunshot from the land, stands the ancient castle of _Caisleen-na-Cearca_, said to have been built in one night by a cock and a hen, but in reality it was founded by the ill-fated Roderick O’Connor, the last king of Ireland. Strange lights are sometimes seen flitting through it, and on some particular midnight a crowd of boats gather round it, filled with men dressed in green with red sashes. And they row about till the cock crows, when they suddenly vanish and the cries of children are heard in the air. Then the people know that there has been a death somewhere in the region, and that the Sidhe have been stealing the young mortal children, and leaving some ill-favoured brat in the cradle in place of the true child.

    The old castle has many historic memories; the celebrated _Graina Uaile_, the great chieftainess of the West, made it her abode for some time, and carried thither the young heir of Howth, whom she had abducted from Howth Castle, when on one of her piratical expeditions. Afterwards, during the Wars of Elizabeth, a distinguished lady of the sept of the O’Flaherties, Bevinda O’Flahertie, shut herself up there with her only daughter and heiress, and a following of twenty resolute men. But further to ensure her safety, she wrote to the Queen, requesting permission to arm the guard; Queen Elizabeth in return sent an autograph letter granting the request, but addressed to “her good friend, Captain Bevan O’Flahertie,” evidently thinking that the custodian of such a castle must certainly be a man.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 108

51. Owen Roe O'Neill Burns the Country Around Dublin

    Dublin · townland · Dublin · 1641–1648

    During the turmoil following the 1641 rising, Owen Roe O'Neill set fire to the countryside surrounding Dublin, causing such widespread devastation that two hundred fires could be seen at once from a single steeple in the city.

    Read the passage

    “The inhabitants are mere English, though of Irish birth,” wrote Hooker, three hundred years ago. “The citizens,” says Holingshed, “have from time to time so galled the Irish, that even to this day the Irish fear a ragged and jagged black standard that the citizens have, though almost worn to the stumps.” Up to Henry the Seventh’s reign, an Englishman of Dublin was not punished for killing an Irishman, nor were Irishmen admitted to any office within the city that concerned the government either of the souls or bodies of the citizens. The Viceroys, the Archbishops, the Judges, the Mayors, the Corporations, were all and always English, down to the very guild of tailors, of whom it stands on record that they would allow no Irishman to be of their fraternity. As the American colonists treated the red man, as the Spaniards of Cortez treated the Mexicans, as the English colony of India treated the ancient Indian princes, tribes, and people, so the English race of Dublin treated the Irish nation. They were a people to be crushed, ruined, persecuted, tormented, extirpated; and the Irish race, it must be confessed, retorted the hatred with as bitter an animosity. The rising of 1641 was like all Irish attempts—a wild, helpless, disorganized effort at revenge; and seven years later we read that Owen Roe O’Neil burned the country about Dublin, so that from one steeple there two hundred fires could be seen at once.

    This being the position of a country and its capital, it is evident that no effort for national independence could gain nourishment in Dublin. Our metropolis is associated with no glorious moment of a nation’s career, while in all the dark tragedies of our gloomy history its name and influence predominate. Dublin is connected with Irish patriotism only by the scaffold and the gallows. Statue and column do indeed rise there, but not to honour the sons of the soil. The public idols are foreign potentates and foreign heroes. Macaulay says eloquently on this subject, “The Irish people are doomed to see in every place the monuments of their subjugation; before the senate-house, the statue of their conqueror—within, the walls tapestried with the defeats of their fathers.”

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 121

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, Owen Roe O'Neill burned the country about Dublin. The story behind that fire runs back through centuries of how this city treated the Irish. Hooker wrote three hundred years ago that the inhabitants were "mere English, though of Irish birth." Holingshed said the citizens had "from time to time so galled the Irish, that even to this day the Irish fear a ragged and jagged black standard that the citizens have, though almost worn to the stumps." Up to Henry the Seventh's reign, an Englishman of Dublin was not punished for killing an Irishman. Irishmen were not admitted to any office within the city that concerned the government either of the souls or bodies of the citizens. The Viceroys, the Archbishops, the Judges, the Mayors, the Corporations were all and always English, down to the very guild of tailors, who would allow no Irishman to be of their fraternity. The English race of Dublin treated the Irish nation as the American colonists treated the red man, as the Spaniards of Cortez treated the Mexicans, as the English colony of India treated the ancient Indian princes, tribes, and people. They were a people to be "crushed, ruined, persecuted, tormented, extirpated." The Irish retorted with as bitter an animosity. The rising of 1641 was, in the words of the source, "a wild, helpless, disorganized effort at revenge." Seven years later, Owen Roe O'Neill burned the country about Dublin, so that from one steeple there two hundred fires could be seen at once.

52. Queen Maeve Slain at Lough Rea

    near Lough Rea · townland · Galway

    The fairy prophetess Feithlinn warned Queen Maeve of Connaught before battle that she foresaw bloodshed, conquest, and death, but the queen refused to heed the omen. Maeve was later cruelly slain by her own kinsman at Lough Rea by the Shannon, and an island there still bears the name of the stone where the great queen died.

    Read the passage

    But it so happened that, some time afterwards, Queen Maeve was cruelly slain by her own kinsman, at Lough Rea by the Shannon, to avenge the assistance she had given in war to the king of Ulster; there is an island in the lake where is shown the spot where the great queen was slain, and which is still known to the people as—_the stone of the dead queen_.

    Maeve, the great queen of Connaught, holds a distinguished place in Bardic Legends. When she went to battle, it is said, she rode in an open car, accompanied by four chariots—one before, another behind, and one on each side—so that the golden _assion_ on her head and her royal robes should not be defiled by the dust of the horses’ feet, or the foam of the fiery steeds; for all the sovereigns of Ireland sat crowned with a diadem in battle, as they drove in their war-chariots, as well as in the festal and the public assemblies.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 57

53. The Cremave: Perjury and the Bloody Hand of Saints Island

    Saints Island · townland · Longford

    A suspected murderer was brought to the Cremave, the consecrated Swearing Stone in the old churchyard of the monastery at Saints' Island, to clear himself of the crime. When he swore falsely on the stone his right arm instantly shrivelled and his feet failed, leaving him a cripple for life; his daughter was born with the impress of a bloody hand across her forehead, and his descendants were held accursed to the seventh generation.

    Read the passage

    The man laid his hand upon the stone, and solemnly swore that he was innocent; but instantly his right arm was shrivelled up, his feet failed, and he was carried home a miserable cripple, and so remained to the end of his life.

    Some weeks after a daughter was born to him, who bore across her forehead the impress of a bloody hand; and every one of his descendants have some strange mark, by which the people know that the race is accursed to the seventh generation; after which time the doom will be lifted, and the expiation made for the crime and the perjury will be considered sufficient by the Lord in heaven, who will then grant to the race pardon and grace at last.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 91

54. The Fairy Abduction of Queen Edain from Tara

    Tara · townland · Meath

    Midar, a chief of the Tuatha-de-Danann, won a chess wager against the king of Munster and claimed his queen, Edain, as the prize. A year later he appeared unseen at a great feast at Tara and carried the queen away to his enchanted palace under a hill, while the king sat powerless. The king's Druid located her by ogham spells, and an army dug into the hill to bring her back to Tara.

    Read the passage

    Then he gently put his arm round the queen’s waist, and drew her up from her royal throne, and went forth with her through the midst of all the guests, none hindering, and the king himself was like one in a dream, and could neither speak nor move. But when he recovered himself, then he knew that the stranger was one of the fairy chiefs of the Tuatha-de-Danann who had carried off the beautiful Edain to his fairy mansion. So he sent round messengers to all the kings of Erin that they should destroy all the forts of the hated Tuatha race, and slay and kill and let none live till the queen, his young bride, was brought back to him. Still she came not. Then the king out of revenge ordered his men to block up all the stables where the royal horses of the Dananns were kept, that so they might die of hunger; but the horses were of noble blood, and no bars or bolts could hold them, and they broke through the bars and rushed out like the whirlwind, and spread all over the country. And the kings, when they saw the beauty of the horses, forgot all about the search for Queen Edain, and only strove how they could seize and hold as their own some of the fiery steeds with the silver hoofs and golden bridles. Then the king raged in his wrath, and sent for the chief of the Druids, and told him he should be put to death unless he discovered the place where the queen lay hid. So the Druid went over all Ireland, and searched, and made spells with oghams, and at last, having carved four oghams on four wands of a hazel-tree, it was revealed to him that deep down in a hill in the very centre of Ireland, Queen Edain was hidden away in the enchanted palace of Midar the fairy chief.

    Then the king gathered a great army, and they circled the hill, and dug down and down till they came to the very centre; and just as they reached the gate of the fairy palace, Midar by his enchantments sent forth fifty beautiful women from the hillside, to distract the attention of the warriors, all so like the queen in form and features and dress, that the king himself could not make out truly, if his own wife were amongst them or not. But Edain, when she saw her husband so near her, was touched by love of him in her heart, and the power of the enchantment fell from her soul, and she came to him, and he lifted her up on his horse and kissed her tenderly, and brought her back safely to his royal palace of Tara, where they lived happily ever after.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 37

55. The Slaughter-Fields of Northern and Southern Moytura

    near Moytirra · townland · Sligo

    The Tuatha-de-Danann conquered the earlier Firbolg tribes in two celebrated pitched battles at Northern and Southern Moytura. The battlefields are still marked by caves, stone circles, monoliths, cromlechs, and immense cairns raised in honour of the fallen chieftains.

    Read the passage

    I believe that these Tuatha-de-Dananns, no matter from whence they came, were, in addition to their other acquirements, great masons, although not acquainted with the value of cementing materials. I think they were the builders of the great stone Cahirs, Duns, Cashels, and Caves in Ireland; while their predecessors constructed the earthen works, the raths, circles, and forts that diversify the fields of Erin. The Dananns anticipated Shakespeare’s grave-digger, for they certainly made the most lasting sepulchral monuments that exist in Ireland, such, for example, as New Grange, Douth, Knowth, and Slieve-na-Calleagh and other great cemeteries. Within the interior and around these tombs were carved, on unhewn stones, certain archaic markings, spires, volutes, convolutes, lozenge-shaped devices, straight, zigzag, and curved lines, and incised indentations, and a variety of other insignia, which, although not expressing language, were symbolical, and had an occult meaning known only to the initiated. These markings, as well as those upon the urns, were copied in the decorations of the gold and bronze work of a somewhat subsequent period. The Dananns conquered the inferior tribes in two celebrated pitched battles, those of the Northern and Southern Moytura. On these fields we still find the caves, the stone circles, the monoliths, and dolmans or cromlechs that marked particular events, and the immense cairns that were raised in honour of the fallen chieftains.

    Although many of the warriors of the Firbolgs fled to their island fastnesses on the coasts of Galway and Donegal, no doubt a large portion of them remained in the inland parts of the country, and in that very locality to which I have adverted, which is almost midway between the sites of the two battles, in a line stretching between Mayo and Sligo, where in time the two races appear to have coalesced by that natural law which brings the dark and the fair together.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

56. The Doom of James Lynan

    Inishmore · townland · Galway

    A wild young man of Innismore is publicly cursed by a priest for his sinful life, and though he reforms and prospers, the doom follows him. Years later he is found fairy-struck near his own gate and dies soon after, speechless, fulfilling the priest's curse.

    Read the passage

    So the doom of the priest was fulfilled—evil was his youth and evil was his fate, and sorrow and death found him at last, for the doom of the priest is as the word of God.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 20

57. The Mermaid's Vision of the Deserter's Suicide

    Athlone and Bigmeadow · townland · Westmeath

    Near an island in the Shannon, a young fisherman is drawn by a mermaid into an underwater vision of a soldier lying with his throat cut. He later learns a deserter from Athlone Barracks had indeed cut his throat and drowned himself in the river at that very spot.

    Read the passage

    Still he did not lose consciousness. He looked round and saw that he was in a beautiful country, with tall plants growing all over it; and the mermaid came and sang sweetly to him, and offered him wine to drink, but he would not taste it, for it was red like blood. Then he looked down, and to his horror he saw a soldier lying on the floor with his throat cut; and all round him was a pool of blood, and he remembered no more till he found himself again in his boat drifting against a hurricane, and suddenly he was dashed upon a rock, where his friends who were in search of him found him, and carried him home. There he heard a strange thing: a soldier, a deserter from the Athlone Barracks, being pursued had cut his throat and flung himself over the bridge into the river; and this was the very man the young fisher had seen lying a corpse in the mermaid’s cave. After this he had no peace or comfort till he went to the priest, who exorcised him and gave him absolution; and then the wicked siren of the rocks troubled him no more, though she still haunts the islands of the Shannon and tries to lure victims to their death.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 32

    As the companion tells it

    This is the place they call the Mermaid's Vision of the Deserter's Suicide, somewhere close to Athlone and Bigmeadow. A young fisherman here was drawn by a mermaid into an underwater place where she sang to him and offered red wine he refused to taste. He looked down and saw a soldier lying with his throat cut in a pool of blood, then remembered nothing until he woke in his boat, dashed against a rock, where his friends found him and carried him home. When he got there he heard the news: a deserter from Athlone Barracks, being pursued, had cut his throat and thrown himself over the bridge into the river, the very man the fisherman had seen lying dead in the mermaid's cave. He had no peace after that until he went to the priest, who exorcised him and gave him absolution, and the siren troubled him no more, though she still haunts these islands of the Shannon.

58. The Witches' Flight to Slievenamon

    near Slievenamon · townland · Tipperary

    Twelve horned witches gather at a mistress's house, forcing her to serve them, but she breaks their enchantment with the help of the Spirit of the Well. The witches flee back in fury to Slievenamon, their chief abode, cursing the Spirit of the Well who thwarted them.

    Read the passage

    When the witches inside heard the call, a great and terrible cry broke from their lips and they rushed forth with wild lamentations and shrieks, and fled away to Slieve-namon, where was their chief abode. But the Spirit of the Well bade the mistress of the house to enter and prepare her home against the enchantments of the witches if they returned again.

    And first, to break their spells, she sprinkled the water in which she had washed her child’s feet (the feet-water) outside the door on the threshold; secondly, she took the cake which the witches had made in her absence, of meal mixed with the blood drawn from the sleeping family. And she broke the cake in bits, and placed a bit in the mouth of each sleeper, and they were restored; and she took the cloth they had woven and placed it half in and half out of the chest with the padlock; and lastly, she secured the door with a great cross-beam fastened in the jambs, so that they could not enter. And having done these things she waited.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 3

59. A Thousand of Cromwell's Men Die of Plague Before Waterford

    Waterford · townland · Waterford · 1649–1650

    A thousand of Cromwell's soldiers died of the plague before Waterford during his Irish campaign. The text remarks that the climate's effect on English constitutions seemed the great Nemesis of Ireland's wrongs.

    Read the passage

    The great Oliver Cromwell was the Lord-Lieutenant of the Parliament, and he in turn appointed his son Henry to succeed him. Dire are the memories connected with Cromwell’s reign here, both to his own party and to Ireland. Ireton died of the plague after the siege of Limerick; General Jones died of the plague after the surrender of Dungarvon; a thousand of Cromwell’s men died of the plague before Waterford. The climate, in its effect upon English constitutions, seems to be the great Nemesis of Ireland’s wrongs.

    Strange scenes, dark, secret, and cruel, have been enacted in that gloomy pile. No one has told the full story yet. It will be a Ratcliffe romance of dungeons and treacheries, of swift death or slow murder. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain that was caught in that Norman stronghold; but that was in the old time—long, long ago. Now the castle courts are crowded only with loyal and courtly crowds, gathered to pay homage to the illustrious successor of a hundred viceroys.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122

60. General Jones Struck Down by Plague at Dungarvan

    Dungarvan · townland · Waterford · 1649

    After the surrender of Dungarvan during the Cromwellian campaign, General Jones died of the plague — one of the epidemic deaths that ravaged Cromwell's forces in Ireland.

    Read the passage

    The great Oliver Cromwell was the Lord-Lieutenant of the Parliament, and he in turn appointed his son Henry to succeed him. Dire are the memories connected with Cromwell’s reign here, both to his own party and to Ireland. Ireton died of the plague after the siege of Limerick; General Jones died of the plague after the surrender of Dungarvon; a thousand of Cromwell’s men died of the plague before Waterford. The climate, in its effect upon English constitutions, seems to be the great Nemesis of Ireland’s wrongs.

    Strange scenes, dark, secret, and cruel, have been enacted in that gloomy pile. No one has told the full story yet. It will be a Ratcliffe romance of dungeons and treacheries, of swift death or slow murder. God and St. Mary were invoked in vain for the luckless Irish prince or chieftain that was caught in that Norman stronghold; but that was in the old time—long, long ago. Now the castle courts are crowded only with loyal and courtly crowds, gathered to pay homage to the illustrious successor of a hundred viceroys.

    Project Gutenberg #61436, Chapter 122