Name: Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts
Author: Patrick Kennedy

The Death of the Children of Lir at Inis na Gluaire

near Inishglora · townland · Mayo

After nine hundred years under enchantment, the children of Lir ended their pilgrimage on the wild waves near Erris. A church bell ringing the first Mass on the Isle of Glory finally restored their human shapes, but they were emaciated and decrepit, and died shortly after receiving baptism.

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Erinn and Alba, and there, for three hundred years more, endured unspeakable sufferings. In their flight they passed over the pleasant rath where their childhood had been spent, and now it was but a grass-covered mound, with a slimy ditch at its base. The last three hundred years of their sad pilgrimage were passed on the wild waves of the great western sea near Irrus DomnaJin (Erris). The bell that rung in the first Mass celebrated on Inis na Gluaire (Isle of Glory), restored them to their human shapes ; but they were now emaciated and decrepid, and only waited for baptism, to flee away to rest eternal.*
Our ancient annalists took it upon them to assign the year on which sprung forth certain rivers and lakes, and consequently it was not at all strange that their associates who took charge of the imaginative affairs of the island, should improve the hint; and, neglecting the trifling circumstances of dates, and names of contemporary monarchs, proceed to tell their willing listeners to what faults or negligences it was owing that the once fertile vale, dotted with the habitations of happy mortals, was flooded over, and how keen-sighted guides can to this day behold through the deep waters the pinnacles of

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 60

The Woman Pitched to the Tower's Summit at Ardmore

Windgap or Ardmore · townland · Waterford

St. Declan, annoyed by the endless questions of an inquisitive woman while building the round tower at Ardmore, used a shovel to hurl her to the top of the tower. Her skeleton was later discovered there, still in place.

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St. Declan, when he was building the great round tower at Ardmore in Waterford, was much annoyed by the chatter and questions of an inquisitive woman (the colour of her hair is not recorded). So just as the cap was being placed on the lofty building, he took a shovel that happened to be at hand, and putting it under her feet, skilfully pitched her to the summit, where her skeleton was afterwards discovered in situ !
In the monastery of Inni'sfallen there flourished, in the days of Brian Boroimhe, a remarkable scholar, by name Maelsuthain O'Carroll, who enjoyed the honour of being confessor and private secretary to the Irish Alfred. There is a specimen of his handwriting extant in old Latin (Irish letters), made in the year 1002, in the Book of Armagh, in the presence of King Brian himself, on occasion of one of his visits. The object of the entry was to confirm the supremacy of the Archbishop of Armagh over him of Cashel, and the other Irish dignitaries. The translation is subjoined. The curious may see the original in the College Library, at folio 16 of the book : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 89

Aoife Transforms the Children of Lir into Swans

near Lough Derg · townland · Clare

At the edge of a lake near Loch Derg, the jealous stepmother Aoife forced the children of Lir into the water and struck each with a druidic wand, cursing them into the forms of swans. The wicked act was later avenged when her father transformed her into a grey vulture doomed to endure storms forever.

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children ; but he was deaf to her entreaties, and she was obhged to enact the part of executioner herself. Fionula, with a girl's acuteness, sorely distrusted her stepmother ; and when they arrived at the edge of a lake, and she and her brothers were commanded to get down and bathe, she refused in the most decided manner for them and herself However, Aoife', with assistance from her retinue, forced them into the water, and then and there, by a stroke on the head of each with a wand, the wicked Druids gift, she changed them into four beautiful swans.
On arriving at her father's palace, he made inquiry about his grandchildren, and suspecting that her representation of their being in health at home was not true, he cast her into a druidic sleep, and made her reveal her wickedness. Restoring her to her ordinary state, he bitterly reproached her in the presence of the court, changed her into a grey vulture by a stroke of his wand of power, and doomed her to live in the cold, and windy, and sleety air, while time was to endure.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 60

Burial of Oscur at Gavra

Garristown · townland · Dublin · 283

After Oscur the Invincible was slain in the battle of Gavra, his father Oisin and comrades raised his body upon spear shafts and buried him on the north side of Gavra alongside other fallen warriors named Oscur.

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' We buried Oscur of the red weapons On the north side of Gabhra, With Oscur Mac Garraidh of great deeds. And Oscur, son of the King of Lochlann."
Of Fion, the man honourably mentioned in the Book of Leinster, and by the Four Masters, there was never related more than that he was a redoubted champion ; but the poets and romancers seized on him, and his sons and grandson, and elevated them and their immediate friends into heroes of surpassing might, round whom moved at a greater or less distance other heroes — friends and foes — and all fertile in exploits and adventures sufficient to fill libraries entire. And while the people, generation after generation, took comparatively slight

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 48

Death for Sighting the Sunken City of Kilstoheen

near River Shannon · townland · Cavan · 1823

The buried city of Kilstoheen lies in the bed of the Shannon and is visible only once every seven years; whoever glimpses it dies within a month. In 1823, fifteen men in a sail-boat were reportedly seen alive at mass by many witnesses the same day their boat was found drowned at the bottom of the river.

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The Regia of Ptolemy is supposed to be in existence, and inhabited by beings who once breathed the upper air. It hes in the bed of the Shannon towards its mouth, and is visible once in every seven years. Whoever is so unlucky as to get a sight of this buried city dies within a month. So late as 1823, fifteen men who had been down the river in a sail-boat, were seen by many people at mass in a neighbouring chapel, and even spoken to ; but later in the day terror and grief prevailed in that neighbourhood, on finding that these poor fellows and their boat had been at the bottom of the river at the very time when they were supposed present in the chapel. A little vessel anchored one night near Beale, which is not far from the supposed site of Kilstoheen \ and next morning the crew on awaking found themselves by the quay of a magnificent city. A merchant coming on board engaged the vessel for a voyage to Bordeaux, for a cargo of wine. Thither captain and crew went in a itw hours, laid in the commodity, and were back in Kilstoheen with very little delay. The freight being royally paid, the sailors went
Ossianic and other Early Legends. 291

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 69

Sionan's Fatal Taste of Forbidden Knowledge

Ossory · townland · Laois

A lady named Sionan defied the taboo forbidding women from eating the Salmon of Knowledge from a sacred well in Ossory. The moment she tasted the fish, furious waters burst forth and swept her away westward, forming the River Shannon which bears her name.

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A long time ago there was a well in Ossor)-, shaded by a rowan-tree. When the berries became ripe they would drop into the water, and be eaten by the salmon that had their residence in the well. Red spots would then appear on the fish, and they received the name of " Salmon of Knowledge." It was not so easy to take these salmon, for there were shelving banks, and they could also retreat into the cavern from which issued the waters that supplied the well. However, one was occasionally caught, and the captor, so soon as he had made his repast on it, found himself gifted with extraordinar)' knowledge, even as Fion, son of Cumhail, when he had tasted of the broiled salmon of the Boyne. It was understood that no woman could taste of this delicacy and live. Yet Sionan, a lady cursed with an extraordinary desire of knowledge, braved the danger, suspecting the report to be spread abroad and maintained by the male sex from merely selfish motives. So, in order to lose no time, she had a fire ready by the side of the well, and the unfortunate fish was scarcely flung out on the herbage when he was disembowelled and fr)-ing on the coals. Who can describe the rapture she felt from the burst of light that filled her mind on swallowing the first morsel ! Alas ! the next moment she was enveloped by the furious waters, which, bursting forth, swept westwards, and carried the unfortunate lady with them, till they were lost in the great river which ever after bore her name.
Legends of foreign lakes afford an occasional parallel, not in detail, but in the idea of a supernatural origin, to these wild stories of our own. The following one, borrowed from Denmark, being curious, we give it welcome as a specimen : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 64

St. Patrick's Fire Contest with the Druids at Tara

Tara · townland · Meath

St. Patrick lit a forbidden fire on the eve of Bealteine near Tara, defying the king's decree that such an act meant death. He and a Druid then competed in supernatural feats of snow, darkness, and fire, culminating in the Druid being burned to ashes in a hut of green boughs.

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Young Saint Benin, who attended night and day on St. Patrick, besought his leave to enter the hut of dry boughs, and his request was granted, he bearing the Druid's mantle, and the Druid bearing his. Both huts were fired at the same moment, and in the twinkling of an eye the Druid and the green twigs full of sap were reduced to ashes by the devouring flames, nothing being spared but the cloak of the young saint, in whose hut nought was consumed but the Druid's garment. This was the last trial which the assembly would suffer, thousands, including the queen and her daughters, openly professing their belief in the God of Patrick.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 78

The King's Eye Sacrificed at Lough Derg

near Lough Derg · townland · Clare

The insolent bard Aithirne demanded the eye of King Achy of Mid-Erinn as tribute, and the king tore it out himself rather than cause war. The lake where his blood mixed with the water was afterwards named Loch Derg Dheirc, the Lake of the Red Eye.

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He first took his way to Cruachan in Conacht, and was disappointed by the ready assent given by the monarch to his unreasonable demands. He then sought the court of Achy, King of Mid-Erinn, at his fortress near the Shannon, on the borders of Clare and Galway, and after exhibiting his poetic powers, he demanded the king's eye for his guerdon. The poor monarch had only one, but rather than be considered ungenerous to a bard, or involve his people in a useless war, he tore it out at once and handed it to the wicked poet. Led by his servant to the nearest point in the Shannon to have his wound washed, " Alas ! dear master," said the sorrowing follower, " the water is all red with your blood." " Let that circumstance give it a name for all future time," said the king. " Loch Derg Dheirc (Lake of the Red Eye) shall it be called while the Sionan runs to the sea." Let the tourist, as he approaches Killaloe through Lough Derg, remember this legend.
At the palace of Carn Tiernach, in South Munster, he met no refusal. At Fort-Brestine, in the modern county of Carlow, he received from the King of South Leinster, Fergus Fairrge, a much valued brooch lost by his (the

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 73

The Well That Drowned a Woman and Birthed Lough Neagh

near Lough Neagh · townland · Antrim

A spring well beneath Lough Neagh was kept carefully covered by locals who knew of its danger, but a careless woman left it uncovered while fetching water. The well burst forth in a mighty flood, drowning her before she could reach home.

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This beautiful sheet of water issued from a spring well which only waited an opportunity of being left uncovered,, to send forth a mighty flood. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood, aware of the danger, kept it securely covered, till at last one luckless gossip walked off with her pitcher, forgetting to replace the smooth round flag, and in consequence the water burst forth in such a volume that the poor woman was drowned before she reached home. Incredulous readers objecting to this mode of lake-making, have only a choice between it and another theory somewhat less probable. Fion Mac Cuil having routed a Scotch giant with red hair, was pursuing him eastwards, but the canny Scotch monster was rather more fleet of foot than his Irish rival, and was outrunning him. Fion, fearing that he might reach the sea and swim across to Britain before he could overtake him, stooped ; and thrusting his gigantic, hands into the earth, tore up the rocks and clay, and heaved them after the Albanach. As Fion miscalculated height and distance, the mighty mass which had filled the whole bed of the present lake, launched from his hands, flew past the giant at a considerable height above his head, and did not lose its impetus till it came over the mid sea. There dropping, according to the laws of gravitation, it formed an island, afterwards called Man, from its Danaan patron, Mananan, son of Lir.
Ossianic and other Early Legends. 281

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 61

The Witches' Sabbath at Gallows Hill, Bantry

Gallows Hill · townland · Kilkenny

On All Hallows Eve, a widow and her granddaughter living atop Cnoc-na-Cro (Gallows Hill) are besieged by the Devil and a host of witches who force their way into the cottage. The quick-thinking girl tricks the demonic gathering into fleeing by falsely crying that Black Stairs mountain was on fire, then bars the door against their return.

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her senses what'll I do % and if they can stay till cockcrow, she'll never see another day." So after about half an hour, when the hullabuUo was worse than ever, she stole out without being noticed or stopped, and then she gave a great scream, and ran in, and shouted, " Granny, granny ! come out, come out. Black Stairs is a-fire ! " Out pelted both the devil and the witches, some by the window, some by the door ; and the moment the last of them was out, she clapped the handle of the besom where the door-bolt ought to be, turned the button in the window, spilled the feet-water into the channel under the door, loosed the band of the spinning-wheel, and raked up the blazing coal under the ashes.
Well, the poor woman was now come to herself, and both heard the most frightful roar out in the bawn, where all the company were standing very lewd'^' of themselves for being so easily taken in. The noise fell immediately, and the same voice was heard. " Feet-water, let me in." " I can't," says feet-water ; " I am here under your feet." "Wheel-band, let me in." "I can't — I am lying loose on the wheel-seat." " Besom, let me in." " I can't — I am put here to bolt the door." "Turf-coal, let me in." "I can't — my head is under the greeshach." " Then let yourselves and them that owns you have our curse for ever and a day." The poor women were now on their knees, and cared little for their curses. But every Holy Eve during their lives they threw the water out as soon as their feet were washed, unhanded the wheel, swept up the house, and covered the big coal to have the seed of the fire next morning.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 33

Kesara's Drowning After the Flood

near Slieve Bloom Mountains · townland · Laois

After her family died one by one atop the mountain later named Blama, the grief-stricken Kesara raged against the gods as her husband Finntan was mysteriously carried away in a vapor from a nearby loch. Left desolate, she flung herself into the dark waters to find him or perish.

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they left the far-off eastern land, varying in age from four to five hundred years each. But now a couple of centuries seemed to have passed over their heads in one revolution of the year. Hardly had they reached the hill when Bith and Birren expired on the same day. Their sorrowing children had scarcely interred them, raised their pile, and sung their lamentation, when Lara and Blama followed them to the lone house. Now were Finntan and Kesara the only dwellers on the island ; and as they sat in woe by the side of the neighbouring loch, and looked on the cromlechs laid over their relatives, Kesara burst into a wild passion of grief and reproaches against her gods and against the God worshipped by her husband. He spoke to her of a future state of rest and happiness for those who were submissive to the decree of the All-Wise and All-Good ; but her fury only gathered strength. Just then a volume of white vapour arose from the dark loch. It went round and round, and at last wheeled out between the living pair ; then in rapid whirls it sunk again on the lake, and Kesara was left desolate on the brink. She cried out wildly on her husband not to abandon her ; but seeing nothing but the wild hill round her, the grey sky over her, and the dark water beneath, she flung herself wildly below its quiet surface to find her partner or perish with him. To the bright land of Tirna-n-oge was Finntan conveyed, and there was he conscious of the gTeat flood that submerged the island, of its loneliness for three hundred years, of the landing of the parricide Partholan, and the speedy destruction of his colony by a plague at Ben Edair. Then in succession came the clans of Nemidh, the Fomorian pirates, the Firbolgs, the learned Danaans, the warlike Milesians ; and after a thousand years of their sway, worshipping the Host of Heaven, and the spirits of the seas, the lakes, the forests, and the hills, it was told at the Court of Laere that a strange Druid, in flowered garments, with a two-pointed ornamented birredh on his head, and bearing in one hand a book inscribed with

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 70

Slaughter and Burning of the Woodmen

Enniscorthy · townland · Wexford

The friendly strangers helped the Irish chief utterly destroy the invading Woodmen who had used poisoned weapons. No mercy or burial rites were given to the defeated foreigners; their bodies were burned and ashes cast into the river.

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and his men, that were slaughtering them like sheep. They were nearly all killed before they could get to the boats ; and into these boats leaped the friendly strangers, and rowed across. So between themselves and the men - of the fort rushing down hill, the Woodmen were killed to a man. No quarter was given to the people that were so wicked as to use poisoned arms, and no caoine was made, and no cairn piled over them, and no inscription cut on an upright stone to tell their names or how they perished. Their bodies were burned, and the ashes flung into the river ; and the next night, though there was some lamentation in the fort, there was much rejoicing along with it.
The Druid did not allow his people to remain long there ; he said that Scotland was to be their restingplace. Some of them stayed all this time in a little harbour near the place now called River Chapel, and there they set sail again. But the young chief and two friends would not leave without the three widowed princesses, and the only return he made was to leave his sick sister, that was now as well as ever she was, with the son of the chief of Enniscorthy. The lady whose life he saved was. not hard to be persuaded to marry him after he risked his life for her, and her sisters did not like to let her go alone among strange people. Maybe that's the reason that the Irish and the Highlanders like one another still, and can understand one another when they meet and begin a conversation.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 72

The Death of King Mesgera and Queen Buona

Naas · townland · Kildare

Conall Cearnach slew King Mesgera of Leinster near the Liffey after a fierce single combat, then made a gruesome ball from the king's brains mixed with lime. He later showed the king's severed head to Queen Buona, who died of grief after lamenting over it.

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Before this invincible champion the Lagenians were obhged to retire, and the furious Ulster chief, pursuing them through Dublin and Kildare in his war-chariot, at last came up with King Mesgera beyond Naas, and near to the Liiley. Neither warrior (an accident frequent in stories) had any of his men near him. So, with no fear of odds on either side, they fell to sword and shield play, and the beam of battle at last inclined to the champion of the evil cause. The savage Conall, taking the brains of the gallant king, mixed them with lime, and formed a ball, which having been dried in the sun, became a " Lia Milidh " (champion's stone), and in the end proved fatal to Conall's own master, King Connor.
Taking the chariot of the king for his prize, and carefully laying the head of its late master in one of its corners, he was proceeding northwards (the historian laying no stress on his having to pass through an enemy's country), when who should come that way but the widow of the slain hero, the charitable Queen Buona, attended by fifty ladies. She was returning from a short sojourn in Meath. " Who art thou, O lady ? " said Conall. " I am Buona, wife to Mesgera, King of Leinster." " Thy lord has sent me for thee : behold his horses and chariot." " My lord is generous ; he may have given them to thee as a present." " Well, you will at least credit this token," said the savage Curadh, worthy to be one of Homer's mailed butchers, and as he spoke he held up the bloody trophy. Wild shrieks rose from her attendants, but she neither uttered cry nor shed tear. " 1 am then free," said she, in a serene voice. " But give me my husband's head, that his spirit may not hereafter accuse me of neglecting his caoind." She received it into her arms, kissed the pale bloody face, and then burst out into a wild lamentation. At its conclusion she fell lifeless on the turf, and her spirit rejoined that of her loved lord in the happy valleys of Tirna-n-oge. The rough warrior and his no less rough charioteer were affected. They interred the devoted wife, laying her husband's head by her side.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 73

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, beyond Naas and near the Liffey, the Ulster champion Conall Cearnach caught up with King Mesgera of Leinster after pursuing his men through Dublin and Kildare. Neither warrior had any of his men near him, so they fought single combat with sword and shield, and Conall killed the king. He took the king's brains, mixed them with lime, and formed a ball that dried in the sun into a champion's stone, which later proved fatal to Conall's own master, King Connor. Conall took the king's chariot as his prize, setting Mesgera's severed head in one corner of it, and headed north through enemy country. On the way he met Queen Buona, the king's widow, travelling with 50 ladies on her return from a stay in Meath. He asked who she was, and she told him she was Buona, wife to Mesgera, King of Leinster. Conall said her lord had sent him for her and pointed to the horses and chariot. She said her lord was generous and may have given them as a present. So he held up the bloody head. Her attendants shrieked, but Buona neither cried nor wept. She said, "I am then free," but asked for her husband's head, so his spirit would not accuse her of neglecting him. She took it into her arms, kissed the pale bloody face, and broke into a wild lamentation. When it ended she fell lifeless on the turf. Conall and his charioteer buried her, laying her husband's head beside her.

The Drowning of Lady Dubh at the Ford of Wattles

Dublin · townland · Dublin

A ford near a deep pool called Dubhlinn was named for a lady named Dubh who was drowned there. This location later became the site of a famous causeway of wattles and boughs, giving Dublin its Irish name.

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Even this detestable demand was not refused ; but the Leinster nobles accompanied him and his convoy apparently through respect, till they came to the edge of the Avan Lififey (the then boundary^ of Leinster and Meath), at a ford, near a deep pool, called Dubhlinn, from the circumstance of a lady named Diibh having been drowned there. It being found that the sheep could not be got across at this ford, a floating causeway was constructed with wattles and boughs, which being secured at each bank, they were conveyed safely over.f When all were fairly in the province of Meath, the Leinster men took their wives and daughters by the hand, and directed them to recross the stream. They would have also turned back the cattle, but a body of Ulster warriors, previously warned by the suspicious poet, and watching the proceedings from near the mouth of the Tolka, interposed. A terrible fight took place, in which the wrongdoers sustained defeat, though they managed to carry off the white cows with red ears and the sheep. They retreated with their spoil to a fort on the side of Beafin Edair (Hill of Oaks — Howth), and held out against their foes till the siege was raised by new^ reinforcements from Ulster, under the command of the renowned Conall Cearnach.
* If one of the most delightful of our bards, poor Oliver Goldsmith, had met with this tale in his youth, it surely supplied him with a hint for his " White Mouse with Green Eyes," in the charming storj' of Prince Bonbenin Bonbobbinet.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 73

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, a ford once crossed the Liffey near a deep pool called Dubhlinn, the black pool that gave Dublin its name. A lady named Dubh was drowned in that pool, and the ford carried her story. Later, when sheep could not be got across at the ford, a floating causeway of wattles and boughs was built and secured at each bank, and that crossing gave the place its lasting name. The ford also became the scene of a violent episode. Leinster nobles had escorted a convoy to the edge of the Liffey, then the boundary of Leinster and Meath. Once all were across in Meath, the Leinster men took their wives and daughters by the hand and directed them to recross the stream. They would have turned back the cattle too, but Ulster warriors, warned beforehand and watching from near the mouth of the Tolka, interposed. A terrible fight followed. The wrongdoers were defeated, though they carried off the white cows with red ears and the sheep, retreating to a fort on the Hill of Howth and holding out until reinforcements under Conall Cearnach raised the siege.

The Haunting of Squire Garret's House near Kilcavan

Kilcavan · townland · Laois

After his death, the immoral Squire Garret tormented his household near Kilcavan with nightly disturbances—doors flung open, dishes hurled down, furniture overturned—yet all restored by morning. He particularly persecuted the old coachman who had aided his misdeeds, and once appeared in a hideous shape to terrify a young woman at a ball, ending all further festivities in the house.

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heard. Doors would be flung open, keys heard turning in locks, plates and dishes hurled down from the dresser on the kitchen floor, tables overturned, and chairs flung about, yet in the morning nothing would be found out of its place. The family at last removed to another manor-house at some distance, but the steward, and old coachman, and a few hangers-on, remained behind. None suffered more from the ghostly and ghastly freaks of the late master than the coachman. When once the night came he could not reckon on a moment's rest. If he attempted to take a nap in the great chair, his wig would be plucked off, or the chair pulled from under him, and he would occasionally find himself pinched and bruised black and blue. At last, he seemed utterly callous and indifferent to these marks of interest in him evinced by the old Squire. Perhaps he was more obnoxious to this persecution for having aided the defunct in his designs upon the innocence of sundry young women during his reign on earth. There was one peculiarity in his visitations j he never made himself visible to more than one person in a company ; and, though he adopted the appearance of black dog, or boar, or bull on these occasions, the individual singled out always knew the old Squire under his disguises.
The wives, sons, and daughters of the neighbouring farmers once took it in head to club and have a ball in the big house, for which they readily got permission. All was as merry as music, and drink, and an assemblage of young boys and girls could make it, when in the height of the festivity, the old gentleman took it into his head to become visible in a hideous shape to the aunt (then a young woman) of Mrs. FitzPatrick. She shrieked out, and fainted, and the universal mirth and jollity came to an abrupt conclusion. When she was brought to herself, and related what had occurred, there was a general dispersion, and that was the last attempt at a ball in the big house.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 38

The Vanishing of the Farmer's Wife at Coolgarrow

Coolgarrow · townland · Wexford

Near Coolgarrow, a farmer's wife who skipped Mass to consult a fairy-man about a sick cow was carried off that same night by a troop of little people dressed in white, red, and green, leaving her husband and children bereft for weeks.

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Late that night he was wakened up by the cries of his children calling out, " Mother, mother ! " When he sat up and rubbed his eyes, there was no wife by his side, and when he asked the little ones what was loecome of their mother, they said they saw the room full of nice little men and women, dressed in white, and red, and green, and their mother in the middle of them, going out by the door as if she was walking in her sleep. Out he ran, and searched everywhere round the house, but neither tale nor tidings did he get of her for many a day.
Well, the poor man was miserable enough, for he was as fond of his woman as she was of him. It used to bring the salt tears down his cheeks to see his poor children neglected and dirty, as they often were, and they'd be bad enough only for a kind neighbour that used to look in whenever she could spare time. The infant was out with a wet nurse.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 17

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here in Coolgarrow, a farmer's wife was carried off by the fairies. She had skipped Mass one Sunday to consult a fairy-man about a sick cow, and that same night the little people came for her. Her husband woke to the cries of his children calling for their mother. The little ones said the room was full of nice little men and women, dressed in white and red and green, with their mother in the middle of them, going out by the door as if she was walking in her sleep. Out he ran and searched everywhere round the house, but got neither tale nor tidings of her for many a day. The poor man was miserable, as fond of his woman as she was of him. It brought the salt tears down his cheeks to see his poor children neglected and dirty. A kind neighbour used to look in when she could spare time, and the infant was out with a wet nurse.

Saav Transformed into a Deer at Almhuin

Hill of Allen · townland · Kildare

The enchanted princess Saav, having escaped the Druid Fear Doirche by entering Fion's fortress at Almhuin, was later lured out by a phantom resembling Fion and struck with a hazel wand, turning her back into a deer, and she vanished forever while pregnant with Fion's child.

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forget their pains. Saav the good, the beautiful, came forth ; she flew down the pass ; she issued through the gates ; she would not listen to entreaty or command. ' I must go and meet my protector, my love, the father of my unborn infant,' she cried, and in a few moments she was rushing into the arms of the phantom. Alas ! we saw her start back with a scream, and the form strike her with a hazel wand. A gentle, slender doe was on the plain, where she stood a moment since, and with wild yelpings the two hounds chased her from the dun. Thrice, four times, she sprang towards the moat, but every time she was seized by the throat and pulled away. By your hand, O Fion, we were not idle. What we have told passed while ten could scarcely be counted twice, and by that time we were on the plain with glaive, lance, and javelin. Mo chuma ! (my sorrow) neither was woman, nor hind, nor sorcerer, nor dog to be seen, but we still could hear the beating of rapid feet on the hard plain, and the howling of dogs. If you were to ask every four of us in which quarter the noise was heard, each would name a different one."
Fion looked upwards in anguish, and repeatedly struck the mail that guarded his breast with his clenched hands. Word he spoke none, but retired to his private apartment, and did not show himself to his people for the rest of that day, nor till the sun rose over the plain of the Liffey next morning. For seven years from that time, whenever he was not called with his Fianna to make head against the white strangers, he continued to explore every remote corner of the land for the beloved Saav ; and, except in the excitement of the chase or battle, an unchanging sadness had possession of him. Nor for seven years more did he forget the matchless princess who had shed such happiness, fleet as it was, on his life. He never during that time took to the chase more than his five favourite hounds — Brann, Sceoluing, Lomaire, Brod, and Lomluath — lest he should endanger the life of Saav if his good destiny led him upon her track.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 55

The Barbers Slain by the King with Horse's Ears

Carlow · townland · Carlow

A king living in an old city on the borders of Carlow and Kilkenny, who hid horse's ears beneath his cap, had about seven barbers put to death after cutting his hair so that his secret would not be revealed. He then decreed that shavers must cast lots for the fatal duty, with any who refused facing destruction of their house.

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The story I'm going to tell yous is not to be met every day. I heard little Tom Kennedy, the great schoolmaster of Rossard, say that he read it in the history of Ireland, and that it happened before the people wor Christians. It is about a king that never let himself be docked only once a year. He lived in some ould city on the borders of Carlow and Kilkenny, and his name was a queer one — Lora Lonshach it was. So, as I said, he got his hair cut once a year ; and tale or tidings was never after hard of the barber that done it. About seven unlucky fellows got the honour, and after that, dickens a barber would come for love or money within a hen's race of the castle. So the king made an Act of Parlement, that all the shavers through the country was to cast lots ; and if any one that got the short straw daared say boo, down went his house. '^
So the first lot came to the son of a poor widow woman, and the bellman proclaimed it through the town ; and when the poor mother heard it she had like to fall out of her stariin' ; but as that wouldn't save the poor fellow's life, she thought betther of it, and run up the street like wildfire, till she came to the palace gates. She broke through the guards (I don't think the old kings in Ireland took any trouble about mindin' the gates ; for if they did, how could such crowds be always at the fastes withinside?) — She broke in, as I said, and came into the big stone hall, where the king was takin' his tay — if it's tay they used in them days.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 57

The Changeling Cast into the Boro River at Grange

Grange · townland · Wexford

A sailor's wife delayed her infant's christening until her husband's return, and the fairies replaced her child with a sickly, demanding changeling. Neighbours seized the impostor and carried it toward the river, where it vanished through a quilt into the water at the stepping-stones between Grange and Ballybawn, restoring the real child to its mother.

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the long-headed neighbours took that opportunity to gain their ends of the fairy imp. They gathered round the house, and one stout woman came up to the bed, promiskis-Uke, and wrapped him up in the quilt before he had time to defend himself, and away down the lane to the Boro she went, and the whole townland at her heels. He thought to get away, but she held him pinned as if he was in a vice : and he kept roaring, and the crowd kept laughing, and they never crack-cried till they were at the stepping-stones going to Ballybawn from Grange.
Well, when he felt himself near the water he roared like a score of bulls, and kicked like the divel, but my brave woman wasn't to be daunted. She got on the first stepping-stone, and the water, as black as night from the turf-;;///// (mould), running under her. He felt a'S heavy as lead, but she held on to the second. Well, she thought she'd go down there with the roaring, and the weight, and the dismal colour of the river, but she got to the middlestone, and there down through the quilt he fell as a heavy stone would through a muslin handkerchief Off he went, whirling round and round, and letting the frightfulest laughs out of him, and showing his teeth and cracking his fingers at the people on the banks. " Oh, yous think yous are very clever, now," says he. " You may tell that fool of a woman from me that all I'm sorry for is that I didn't choke her, or do worse for her, before her husband comes home; bad luck to yous all !"

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 11

The Miraculous Recovery of St. Colum Cille's Body at Down

near Downpatrick · townland · Down

The monks of Iona found the coffin of the deceased St. Colum Cille mysteriously missing along with a small barque, and sent men to search for it. The vessel was found moored at Down, where it had sailed unmanned to deliver the saint's undecayed body, which was enshrined beside the relics of St. Patrick and St. Brigid.

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thronged the shore as it came in, were on their knees, as much from fear as piety, and praying earnestly, but no one dared to enter the enchanted boat till the bishop and three of his clergy, who had learned the news, came from the cathedral, in their robes, and went on deck, scattering incense and singing hymns. They went below, and after what seemed a long hour to the crowd, they came up again bearing a coffin, which they laid upon the deck. The bishop then addressed the assembly, infomiing them that within the coffin lay the still undecayed body of St. Colum Cille', evidently sent by Heaven to repose beside those of St. Patrick and St. Brigid. The whole multitude broke out at once with the hymn, ' Laudate Dominum,' and when it ended, with the ' Gloria Patri, ^Filio, et Spiritui Sancto : sicut erat,' &c. The precious burden was removed on the shoulders of the clergy to the cathedral, and at this moment our most skilful artificers are preparing a fitting monument to be placed beside those of our other patron saints."
Our three voyagers shared but moderately in the general joy that prevailed among all classes. They visited the cathedral along with hundreds of the curious and devout, and were hospitably entertained by the bishop and chapter. The people of Down would have gladly retained the miraculous boat, but in a council held by the clergy and Brehons it was resolved that it should be sent back to its owners in I Colmkil. It was not fitting that the loss sustained by the islanders should be aggravated. These last, on the return of the exploratory expedition, resigned themselves as well as they could to their loss, and went on their noiseless and useful course. Concerning the abode of the saints in Down, we quote the distich : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 84

The Robber Macaldus and the Murder on the Boyne Road

near River Boyne · townland · Kildare

The robber chief Macaldus and his band plotted to murder St. Patrick near the Boyne, but were unable to act. When they faked a comrade's death to mock the saint, the man actually died, causing Macaldus to repent and be chained and set adrift as penance.

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A district adjoining the Boyne was infested by a band of robbers, under the command of a chief named Macaldus. Some of these had been converted from their evil ways by the missionaries, and their chief was very wroth in consequence against St. Patrick. Hearing that he was to pass along a road in their neighbourhood on a certain day, he and some of his band took up a position by its side, intending to murder him ; but as they caught sight of him slowly approaching, and apparently sunk in profound contemplation, they found themselves deprived of all desire to injure him. Still they would not let the opportunity pass without endeavouring to bring ridicule on him by some stratagem. So one of them lay down by the side of the woodland path as if dead, and Macaldus, as the saint passed by, besought him to restore his dead comrade to life. " I dare not intercede for him," said the saint, and passed on. Though veiy well inclined to offer him some insult, they could not muster resolution for the purpose, and, when he had gone on a little way, Macaldus ordered the man to rise. But while the poor wretch had been feigning death, life had really deserted his body, and consternation and remorse now seized on his comrades. Macaldus, foremost in wickedness, was first to feel repentance. Following St. Patrick, and throwing himself on his knees before him, he besought him to return and intercede for his comrade's restoration, acknowledging the deception they had attempted, and his own readiness to undergo the severest penance the saint might impose.
The Apostle, retracing his steps, knelt by the dead

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 81

The Vanishing Sighe of Lough Inchiquin

Lough Inchiquin · townland · Kerry

A chief captured and married a fairy woman living beneath a castle near Lough Inchiquin, on condition he never bring guests home. When he broke his promise after being led astray at the races, she and their two children vanished into the enchanted spring, which then flooded the plain to form the lake.

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Having in his stables a fine race-horse, a desire of going to the races of Kood at length seized on him, and he asked permission to attend that assembly. She gave consent, but warned him against bringing home any friends or acquaintance he might meet there. He returned home alone in the evening, rejoicing in a prize won by his steed, and induced his Sighe lady to agree to his repeating the excursion next day. Her consent was granted, accompanied with a solemn caution. The second evening also he kept to his word. But woe the while ! on the third day some thoughtless and other envious acquaintances beset him, intoxicated him, learned his secret, and were invited to accompany him to his castle, and be introduced to his lady that evening. The beautiful Sighe had been watching for his return, and when she saw him cross the plain, surrounded by a disorderly crowd, he and they indulging in boisterous mirth, her love and esteem for him melted into thin air. The noise of the unthinking group ceased as they beheld a woman of superhuman beauty advancing towards them from the castle door, leading a child by each hand. The chief's heart began to throb wildly, and immediately after he uttered a wild cry of anguish, and rushed on as he saw her and his children disappear in the enchanted spring. The wonder and surprise of his companions were soon changed into personal fears, for water began to burst forth in a large body from the well and fill the plain. Out it kept rushing till it acquired the level it occupies at this day — a signal warning against all unsuitable associates, and breaches of solemn engagements.
Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 63

Black Stairs on Fire: Witches' Sabbath Foiled by a Clever Girl

Bantry · townland · Wexford

A widow and her granddaughter living near Gallows Hill in Bantry are visited on All Hallows Eve by a devil and a coven of witches who force entry through household objects. The girl saves her fainting grandmother by tricking the witches into believing the nearby Black Stairs mountain is ablaze, driving them out.

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On the top of the hill of Cnoc-na-Ci'o" (Gallows Hill) in Bantr)--, just in full view of the White Mountain, Cahir Rua's Den, and Black Stairs, there lived a poor widow, with a grandchild, about fifteen years old. It was All- Holland Eve, and the two Avere about going to bed when they heard four taps at the door, and a screaming voice crj-ing out, "Where are you, feet-water?" and the feetwater answered, " Here in the tub." " Where are you, band of the spinning wheel ? " and it answered, " Here, fast round the rim, as if it Avas spinning." " Besom, where are you ? " " Here, Avith my handle in the ash-pit." "Turf-coal, Avhere are you ? " " Here, blazing over the ashes." Then the voice screamed louder, " Feet-Avater, Avheel-band, besom, and turf-coal, let us in, let us in ; " and they all made to the door.
Open it flcAV, and in rushed frightful old hags, Avicked, shameless young ones, and the old boy himself, Avith red horns and a green tail. They began to tear and tatter round the house, and to curse and swear, and roar and baAA'l, and say such things as almost made the poor Avomen sink through the hearthstone. They had strength enough, hoAvever, to make the sign of the cross, and call on the Holy Trinity, and then all the Avitches and their master yoAvled Avith pain. After a little the girl strove to creep over to the holy AA-ater croft that Avas hanging at the bed's head, but the Avhole bilin' of the A\-icked creatures kep' in a croAvd betAveen her and it. The poor grandmother fell in a faint, but the little girl kep' her senses.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 33

Burial of Buona and the Hazel Tree

Naas · townland · Kildare

After Queen Buona died of grief upon seeing her husband's severed head, the rough warriors buried her with his head beside her. A hazel tree later grew from her grave, known as Coll Buona.

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Taking the chariot of the king for his prize, and carefully laying the head of its late master in one of its corners, he was proceeding northwards (the historian laying no stress on his having to pass through an enemy's country), when who should come that way but the widow of the slain hero, the charitable Queen Buona, attended by fifty ladies. She was returning from a short sojourn in Meath. " Who art thou, O lady ? " said Conall. " I am Buona, wife to Mesgera, King of Leinster." " Thy lord has sent me for thee : behold his horses and chariot." " My lord is generous ; he may have given them to thee as a present." " Well, you will at least credit this token," said the savage Curadh, worthy to be one of Homer's mailed butchers, and as he spoke he held up the bloody trophy. Wild shrieks rose from her attendants, but she neither uttered cry nor shed tear. " 1 am then free," said she, in a serene voice. " But give me my husband's head, that his spirit may not hereafter accuse me of neglecting his caoind." She received it into her arms, kissed the pale bloody face, and then burst out into a wild lamentation. At its conclusion she fell lifeless on the turf, and her spirit rejoined that of her loved lord in the happy valleys of Tirna-n-oge. The rough warrior and his no less rough charioteer were affected. They interred the devoted wife, laying her husband's head by her side.
314 Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 73

As the companion tells it

Somewhere close to Naas lies the burial place of Queen Buona and the hazel tree that grew from her grave, known as Coll Buona. Conall had taken the king's chariot as his prize, with the severed head of its master laid in one corner. He was heading north through enemy country when Queen Buona came that way, returning from a stay in Meath, attended by fifty ladies. "Who art thou, O lady?" said Conall. "I am Buona, wife to Mesgera, King of Leinster." "Thy lord has sent me for thee. Behold his horses and chariot." "My lord is generous. He may have given them to thee as a present." "Well, you will at least credit this token," said Conall, and he held up the bloody head. Wild shrieks rose from her attendants, but Buona neither cried nor wept. "I am then free," she said, serene. "But give me my husband's head, that his spirit may not hereafter accuse me of neglecting his caoind." She took the head into her arms, kissed the pale bloody face, and burst into wild lamentation. When it ended, she fell lifeless on the turf, and her spirit rejoined her lord in the happy valleys of Tirna-n-oge. The rough warrior and his charioteer were moved. They buried her, laying her husband's head by her side. From her grave grew a hazel tree, known as Coll Buona.

St Kiaran Slays the Monstrous Cat King at Clonmacnois

Clonmacnoise · townland · Offaly

As King Irusan carried the poet Seanchan through Clonmacnois, St Kiaran, working as a smith, hurled a red-hot iron bar that pierced the cat king near the flank, killing him and sparing the bard.

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ing the contemptible vermin to thrust their whiskers into the egg intended for his dinner. He was at Cruachan in Connaught at the time, but the venom of his verse disagreeably affected King Iriisan, in his royal cave at Knowth, on the Boyne. He (the cat) took the road, and never stopped for refreshment, till, in the presence of the full court at Cruachan, he seized on the pestilent poet, and throwing him on his back, swept eastwards across the Shannon in full career. His intent was to take him home and make a sumptuous meal of him, assisted by Madame Sharptooth, his spouse, their daughter of the same name, and Roughtooth and the Purrer, their sons. However, as he was cantering through Clonmacnois, St. Kiaran, who, like his Saxon brother, St. Dunstan, was a skilful worker in metals, espied him while hammering on a long red-hot bar of iron. The saint set very small value on Seanchan as a bard, but, regarding him as a baptized man, he determined to disappoint the revengeful Irusan. Rushing out of his workshop, and assuming the correct attitude of a spear-thrower, he launched the flaming bar, which, piercing the cat near the flank, an inch behind the helpless body of the bard, passed through and through, stretched the feline king expiring in agony, and gave the ill-conditioned poet a space for repentance.
Not only can a general resemblance be traced in all

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn

The 1808 Serpent Scare at Kennystown Bog

Kennystown · townland · Wicklow · 1808

Around 1808 a rumour spread through the Duffrey that spawn of the old serpent had appeared in the pool and was seen fleeing into Kennystown bog. Hundreds of armed villagers searched the bog all afternoon after Mass hunting for the young worm, but found no trace of it.

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About the year 1808 a report ran through the Duflrey that some spawn of the old serpent had made its appearance in the pool, and was seen tearing across the fields that divide it from Kennystown bog, and plunging into one of the deepest bog-holes. Some hundreds of people collected after Mass one Sunday, and, armed with pitchforks, fishing-spears, and spades, perambulated the bog the whole afternoon, with intent to slay the young worm. They were obliged to separate towards nightfall without a glimpse of him — head, body, or tail.
Our authority for the following legend was Owen Jourdan, already mentioned. Poor Jourdan was a genuine stoiy-telling genius. He was not the mere talented Scealuidhe ; he not only had a sense of what pleased and interested, but he could invent, if needful — i.e. he could form a good narrative out of two or three independent ones. With all his native powers of deceiving his auditors while relating extraordinary things, as if they had happened to himself, he was suspected of believing in the existence of fairies, and their dwelling in peculiar localities, such as the Rath of Cromogue. As for raths in general, he would as soon think of planting a ridge of potatoes in the ancient cemeteries of Kilmeashill or Templeshambo as of ploughing up the green area of one of these circular remains. We have

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 56

The Death and Contested Burial of St. Patrick

near Downpatrick · townland · Down

St. Patrick died at Down after being unable to complete his journey to Armagh, and the men of Armagh and Down each claimed the right to his body. The dispute nearly turned violent until the Armagh men mysteriously departed, allowing Down to bury the saint in a rich tomb.

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there in force, and insisted on their right to bear the holy remains to his own cathedral. The prize was too precious to be given up, and each party determinedly confronted the other. Arms of iron or bronze they Avould not use, but neither party would resign the custody of the saint's body.
At last when anger was waxing hot on either side, the men of Down were surprised and rejoiced to see the men of Armagh filing away orderly and peaceably to the west, till not a man was left behind. They lost no time, but conveyed the saint's remains to their church, and there deposited them in a richly-ornamented tomb.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 83

The Kilranelagh Stirk: A Ghost Hoax Among the Tombs

Kilranelagh · townland · Wicklow

Two men crossing Kilranelagh churchyard at twilight were terrorized three times by groans, showers of hot cinders, and a shrieking figure that sprang from behind a tomb. The 'fiend' later confessed he was a young man who had hidden among the graves to frighten them, using stones and howls, until he himself was startled by a real noise.

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from a tomb, the most awful groans and friglitful outcries, and a shower of red-hot cinders fell on them. They retreated down hill in great dismay ; yet, after getting to some distance, they plucked up courage and returned. They were received in a more fearful fashion this time, and once again fled in terror. Unaccountable as it may appear, they made a third attempt ; but this time the noise was more appalling than ever, and a terrible being, with a wild outcry, sprang up from behind the monument, and rushed on them. Down the hill they flew like deer, and, after a wild flight, took refuge in the first cabin they reached. This was their version. We supply another from the mouth of the fiend, then a young stripling, and now a plodding citizen of Dublin, and proprietor of a farm near this extensive and ancient cemetery.
He was seated on the stony enclosure, when he saw, in the gloom, the two men approaching up hill. He at once conceived the design of frightening them, and for this purpose ensconced himself behind a tomb with a provision of small stones. All the ghostly machineiy consisted in the groans and bowlings he contrived to make, and the showers of pebbles he discharged on the adventurers. At the third attempt he. himself was startled by a rustling among the dry weeds and stones behind, and his headlong charge was the result of his panic. Of course he managed not to come up with the fugitives.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 41

The Murdered Man of the Farmer's House

Ferns · townland · Wexford

The Goban Saor and his son, warned by a suspicious feeling, leave a farmer's house to lodge elsewhere, refusing to stay where the woman ruled and the man said nothing. The next morning they learn the man of that house was found murdered in his bed, and a lodger was arrested on suspicion, until the Goban's cross-examination revealed the true culprits.

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As they were going along, they met a poor, man striving to put a flat roof over a mud-walled round cabin, but he had only three joists, and each of them was only three-quarters of the breadth across. Well, the Goban put two nicks near one end of every joist, on opposite sides ; and when these were fitted into one another, there was a three-cornered figure formed in the middle, and the other ends rested on the mud wall, and the floor they made was as strong as anything. The poor man blessed the two men, and they went on. That night they stopped at a house where the master sat by the fire, and hardly opened his mouth all the evening. If he didn't talk, a meddlesome neighbour did, and interfered about everything. There was another chance lodger besides the Goban and his son, and when the evening was half over, the Goban said he thought he would go farther on his journey as it was a fine night. " You may come along with us, if you like," says he to the other man ; but he said he was too tired. The two men slept in a farmer's house half a mile farther on ; and the next morning the first news they heard, when they were setting out, was, that the man of the house they left the evening before was found murdered in his bed, and the lodger taken up on suspicion. Says he to his son, " Never sleep a night where the woman is everything, and the man nothing." He stopped a day or two, however, and by cross-examining and calling wit-
7o Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 10

The Repentant Ghost of Graigue

Graigue · townland · Carlow

A charitable lady of Graigue died and was widely mourned, but her ghost appeared to a servant girl to reveal that her celebrated charities had been done only for vanity and were prolonging her punishment in the afterlife. She demanded her family stop praising her, returning to haunt the terrified servant three times before her message was delivered.

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A lady in the neighbourhood of that old to\\n, much celebrated for her charities, died, and great sorrow was felt for her loss. Many masses were celebrated, and many prayers offered up for the repose of her soul, and there was a moral certainty of her salvation among her acquaintance. One evening, after the family had retired to 'rest, a servant girl in the house, a great favourite with her late mistress, was sitting beside the fire, enjoying the dreamy comfort of a hard-worked pereon after the day's fatigues, and just before the utter forgetfulness of sleep. Her mind was wandering to her late loved mistress, when she was startled by a sensation in her instep, as if it were trodden upon. " Bad manners to you for a dog," said she, suspecting the " coley '^ of the house to be the offender. But to her great terror, when she looked down and round the hearth, she could see no living thing. " Who's that % " she cried out, with the teeth chattering in her head. " It is I," was the answer, and the dead lady became visible to her. " Oh, mistress darling!" said she, "What is disturbing you, and can I do anything for you % " " You can do a little," said the spirit, "and that is the reason I have appeared to you. Every day and every hour some one of my friends are lamenting me, and si^eaking of my goodness, and that is tormenting me in the other world. All my charities were done only for the pleasure of having myself spoken well of, and they are now prolonging my punishment. The only real good I ever did was to give, once, half-acrown to a poor scholar that was studying to be a priest, and charging him to say nothing about it. That was the only good act that followed me into the other world. And now you must tell my husband and my children to speak well of my past life no more, or I will haunt you night after night." The appearance, the next moment, was no longer there, and the poor girl fainted the moment it vanished. When she recovered, she
Witchcraft, Sorcery, Ghosts, and Fetches. 185

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 39

Battle at Howth and the Slaughter of Ulster Warriors

Howth · townland · Dublin

Leinster wrongdoers who had reneged on their agreement with the bard Aithirne were confronted by Ulster warriors near the mouth of the Tolka. A terrible fight ensued in which the Leinster men were defeated, retreating with stolen cattle to a fort at Howth where they held out under siege.

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Even this detestable demand was not refused ; but the Leinster nobles accompanied him and his convoy apparently through respect, till they came to the edge of the Avan Lififey (the then boundary^ of Leinster and Meath), at a ford, near a deep pool, called Dubhlinn, from the circumstance of a lady named Diibh having been drowned there. It being found that the sheep could not be got across at this ford, a floating causeway was constructed with wattles and boughs, which being secured at each bank, they were conveyed safely over.f When all were fairly in the province of Meath, the Leinster men took their wives and daughters by the hand, and directed them to recross the stream. They would have also turned back the cattle, but a body of Ulster warriors, previously warned by the suspicious poet, and watching the proceedings from near the mouth of the Tolka, interposed. A terrible fight took place, in which the wrongdoers sustained defeat, though they managed to carry off the white cows with red ears and the sheep. They retreated with their spoil to a fort on the side of Beafin Edair (Hill of Oaks — Howth), and held out against their foes till the siege was raised by new^ reinforcements from Ulster, under the command of the renowned Conall Cearnach.
* If one of the most delightful of our bards, poor Oliver Goldsmith, had met with this tale in his youth, it surely supplied him with a hint for his " White Mouse with Green Eyes," in the charming storj' of Prince Bonbenin Bonbobbinet.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 73

Gilla na Chreck an Gour Meets Giants and the Devil

Enniscorthy · townland · Wexford

A poor widow's son, raised near the iron forge by Enniscorthy, grows into a mighty youth who defeats several giants in the woods and later travels to Dublin, eventually descending into Hell itself to retrieve a fiery flail from the Devil. His supernatural strength and encounters with monstrous giants and the Devil mark this as a folk tale steeped in the eerie and uncanny tied to the Enniscorthy area.

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Long ago, a poor widow woman lived down near the iron forge, by Enniscorthy, and she was so poor, she had no clothes to put on her son ; so she used to fix him in the ash-hole, near the fire, and pile the warm ashes about him ; and according as he grew up, she sunk the pit deeper. At last, by hook or by crook, she got a goat-
* Correctly, " GioUa na Chroicean Gobhar." (The Fellow with the Goat-skin).

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 5

Terrorised by the Pooka Between Wood and Hedge

Moroe · townland · Limerick

A man walking home at night along an avenue near a wood is stalked overhead by a goat-shaped Pooka moving through the boughs, which finally drops onto his shoulders and forces him onto all fours. He is found collapsed and insensible at his own door and remains bedridden with pain for weeks afterward.

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he was under the last tree ; but while hoping for the cessation of his torment, the dreadful thing in the full caparison of a he-goat dropped on his shoulders, and bent him down on all fours !
He retained his senses, and merely strength enough to creep on painfully, labouring the while under such a sensation of horror as perhaps none can comprehend except those who have endured the visitation of the nightmare. He could not afterwards form any idea of the time occupied by his staggering home under the fearful burden. His family heard the noise as of a body falling against the door. It was at once opened, and the poor head of the family was found lying across the entrance, insensible. They brought him in, laid him before the fire, had his hands chafed, water thrown on his face, &c., till he recovered consciousness. He was confined to his bed for two or three weeks with pains and stiffness in his bones and joints, as if he was suffering under a severe attack of rheumatism. As there was no intentional deception on the victim's side, perhaps the delusion and illness may be accounted for by his lying insensible for some time in a damp place, and being called on while in that state by that dreadful visitant the nightmare.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 24

The Forgotten Well of Killarney

Killarney · townland · Kerry

A young woman, distracted by her lover's proposal, forgot to cover the fairy well at Killarney, causing a flood that submerged the valley and formed the lake. She was denounced for her fatal negligence though her lover carried her to safety.

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spring, she found a sheet of water surrounding the little eminence, and a bubbling flood bursting upwards where the still fluid was peacefully lying within its circular wall only a quarter of an hour before. She would have awaited death where she stood, so much was she overpowered with remorse for her fault, but such was not the purpose of her knight. Lifting her on his shoulders, he dashed through the channel nearest the neighbouring slope, and bore her still alive to her home. The dismayed dwellers in the valley had time to gain the heights before their dwellings were covered with the water ; but the young maiden was denounced. The legend leaves us in ignorance of the after-fortunes of the lovers.
A once king of Cork and all his household are still living in comfortable seclusion at the bottom of the Lough of Cork, which burst out, as in the other instances, on account of the negligence of a domestic.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 62

The Piercing of King Aongus at Baptism

Cashel · townland · Tipperary

While baptizing King Aongus of Cashel, St. Patrick accidentally drove the spiked end of his staff through the king's foot. Aongus endured the pain silently, believing it a necessary part of the sacred rite.

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on lifting the staff, he found the spike driven into the floor, through the instep of the king. " My son," said he, sorrowfully, " why did you give no notice when you found your foot pierced through % " " Father," said the king, " though the torture was great, I strove to endure it. I looked on what you did as a necessary part of the rite." Patrick, stooping, and making the sign of the cross on the wound, the blood ceased to flow, and the sufferer was relieved of pain. He was then gladdened by these words addressed to him by the saint : — " For your piety and faith it shall be allowed to ten monarchs of your line to wear your crown in succession ; and, one excepted, all shall be blessed with prosperous reigns."

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 79

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here at Cashel, St. Patrick was baptizing King Aongus when he accidentally drove the spiked end of his staff through the king's foot. Patrick asked why he gave no warning, and the king said he thought the torture was a necessary part of the rite. Patrick made the sign of the cross on the wound, the blood stopped, and the pain left him. He told the king that for his piety, ten monarchs of his line would wear his crown in succession, and all but one would have prosperous reigns.

The Sorceress of Bantry's Enchanted Boat

Bantry · townland · Cork

At Bantry a magic leather boat lay hidden in a wooded cove, used for generations by suitors attempting a perilous quest; all previous adventurers who tried it perished in the western waves. The evil sorceress Amarach lured travelers to their doom there using an enchanted sleeping pin.

Read the passage

The lovely Fiongalla (fair cheek) was daughter to Glas, chief of a district in the south-west of Desmond.f She would have been his great happiness, but for a fate that had brooded over his house for nearly two centuries. No woman of the family could be married till her suitor had brought from the JDonn Thir (brown or dark land) the Craov Cuilleann (holly-bough), the Luis Bui (marigold), and the crimson berries of the Uhar (yew). These were to be found in the dim and distant Donn Thir, in the Western Sea, near the Stone Circle of Power ; and for some generations no knight had been so fortunate as to secure them. A corrochan (leather-covered bark) lay in a wooded nook near Bean Tra (Fair Strand, Bantry), and had lain there time out of mind. The daring adventurer entered it, and readily made the open sea. A day and a night were allowed for the voyage going and coming ; but hitherto the fated bark had been in every
* The golden pin of sleep.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 59

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, at Bantry, a leather-covered bark lay in a wooded nook near what was called Fair Strand. It had lain there time out of mind, and for generations it carried suitors on a doomed quest. Fiongalla, called fair cheek, was daughter to Glas, chief of a district in the south-west of Desmond. No woman of her family could be married until her suitor had brought back three things from the Donn Thir, the dark land in the Western Sea: the holly-bough, the marigold, and the crimson berries of the yew. These grew near the Stone Circle of Power. A day and a night were allowed for the voyage, going and coming. But every knight who entered that bark and made the open sea was lost in the western waves. None had been fortunate enough to secure them. The boat waited in its wooded nook, and the fate that had brooded over the house for nearly two centuries went on.

The Year-Long Battle of Ventry Harbour

Ventry · townland · Kerry

Daire Donn, King of Rome, landed his fleet at the harbour of Ventry after being led there by a traitorous Fenian. A terrible daily battle raged for a year and a day between the invaders and the Fenian warriors on the strand, ending in victory for the defenders with most of the invading captains slain.

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county of Limerick. The warriors nearest tlie post of danger hastened thither, and for a year and a day there was a terrible diurnal fight on the strand between a detachment landing from the ships and an equal number of Fenian heroes, one great warrior generally slaying a couple of hundred of the opposing party, and securing a portion of the tale to himself, just as Agamemnon, or Diomede, or Patroclus, had a book of the Iliad which he might call his own. It all ended, as it should, in favour of native valour and patriotism, few of the captains of the King of the World surviving the year and day's war. The brave young Gall, Prince of Ulster, worked himself into such a state of fury in the fight, that he lost his senses, and fled to tlrejonely GleiTn_na-i>(iealt, in Kerry. _And there all the lunatics' in IrelancTmust repair before or after they pay the great debt.
Spenser had a great dislike to the custom prevalent in his day, which sent up in summer-time the inhabitants of the plains and valleys to the hills, where they lived, in imitation of the Fianna, on game and the produce ot their cattle, till their instinct warned sheep and cows of the suitable moment to seek the shelter of the lowlands. He complained that this usage afforded the disaffected means of shelter and of support among these dwellers in the " scraw-covered " shielings, and opportunities of concocting designs unfriendly to the authority of his beloved Gloriana.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 48

As the companion tells it

Somewhere close to Ventry, a legendary battle once raged on the strand. Daire Donn, King of Rome, landed his fleet at the harbour after a traitorous Fenian led him there. The warriors nearest the post of danger hastened to meet them, and for a year and a day there was a terrible daily fight on the strand. Each day a detachment landed from the ships and an equal number of Fenian heroes met them. One great warrior generally slew a couple of hundred of the opposing party and secured a portion of the tale to himself, just as Agamemnon or Diomede or Patroclus had a book of the Iliad he might call his own. It all ended in favour of native valour and patriotism, few of the captains of the King of the World surviving the year and day's war. The brave young Gall, Prince of Ulster, worked himself into such a state of fury that he lost his senses and fled to the lonely Glenn-na-nGealt in Kerry. There all the lunatics in Ireland must repair before or after they pay the great debt. Spenser, in his own day, disliked the custom that sent the inhabitants of plains and valleys up to the hills in summer, where they lived in imitation of the Fianna on game and the produce of their cattle. He complained this afforded the disaffected shelter among the "scraw-covered" shielings and opportunities to concoct designs unfriendly to the authority of his beloved Gloriana.

Conan's Ordeal at Ceash

near Kesh · townland · Sligo

At the enchanted hut of a druidic dwarf near Ceash in Sligo, the warrior Conan was lured by a false vision into a boiling cauldron, then mauled by a monstrous cat, then tortured with the pangs of childbirth, until Fion and the Fianna forced the sorcerer to release him.

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At last all had been visited but Conan the incontinent, the abusive, the cunning, and the only one of the Fians unpossessed of a noble soul. At the first invitation of the fay he sprang into the chariot, and found himself tumbling headlong into a deep well in which he could hear the roar of uprushing waters, and feel the hot steam scalding him to the bone. He caught at a beam that lay across, uttered a roar that might be heard from Ceash (in Sligo) to Inis na Gloria, and was soon surrounded by his brother Fians. By the dull firelight they found him astride on a flesh-fork that lay across the caldron in which their supper had been cooked. After administering some comfort of that quality once so liberally bestowed on Job, they left him to his repose, first exhorting him to resist temptation.
He had not time to fall asleep when the same bright vision again filled the room. This time he delayed ten seconds before he sprung into the car ; when he did so he found himself in the midst of a forest, and a dreadful beast, resembling a wild cat, gigantic, such as he had heard of, but never seen, springing on him from behind

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 54

St. Lateerin's Curse on the Smith of Cullin

Cullen · townland · Cork

St. Lateerin of Cullin near Millstreet carried a burning coal home each evening in the fold of her gown to light her fire. When a smith who had been drinking complimented her on her pretty white foot, her momentary vanity caused the coal to burn through her gown and scorch her ankles, prompting her to curse the smith so that no forge would ever again stand in Cullin.

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St. Lateerin lived at Cullin, near Millstreet, and her sisters lived in her neighbourhood. They visited one another once a week, and because they had to pass through bogs and brakes, the angels made a fine road for them connecting Kilmeen, Drumtariff, and Cullin, where they respectively lived. St. Lateerin took only one meal in tlie day, and when it was dressed she let her fire go out. Every evening she went to the smith's forge for the " seed of the fire," and carried it home miraculously in the skirt of her long gown. One unfortunate evening, the smith, who had been " looking at some one drinking" that day, said, as she was walking away with the bright coal in the fold of her robe, "Ah, Saint Lateerin, what a darlin', purty, white foot you have ! " Vanity took possession of her pure mind for a moment, and she looked down, but what did she see and feel % The red hot coal burn through her gown, and scorch her ankles. She was naturally vexed with the smith, as well
348 Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 92

The Belated Priest's Encounter with the Chlann Sighe near Ballindaggin

Ballindaggan · townland · Wexford

Father Stafford, lost in darkness in a field near Ballindaggin while returning from a sick call, was accosted by unseen fairy voices begging him to declare that their souls might not be damned at Judgment Day. When he demanded they first show love of Christ, they fled shrieking and the path home was revealed to him.

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While he stood perplexed, he heard the rustle of wings or bodies passing swiftly through the air, and a musical voice was heard : — " You will suffer much if you do not find your way. Give us a favourable answer to a question, and you shall be on the road in a few minutes." The good priest was somewhat awed at the rustle and the voice, but he answered without delay, " Who are you, and what's your question"?" The same voice replied, " We are the Chlann Sighe, and wish you to declare that at the last day our lot may not be with Satan. Say that the Saviour died for us as well as for you." " I will give you a favourable answer, if you can make me a hopeful one. Do you adore and love the Son of God 1 " He received no answer but weak and shrill cries, and the rushing of wings, and at once it seemed as if he had shaken off some oppression. The dark clouds had separated, a weak light was shed round where he stood, and he distinguished the path, and an opening in the bushes on the fence. He crossed into the next field, and, following the path, he was soon on the road. In fifteen minutes he was seated at his comfortable fire, and his little round table, covered with books, was at his side.
The good people, as already mentioned, are not uniformly selfish. They are grateful for food left in their way, and other kindnesses shown them by the human race. The following tale will furnish an illustration. In a modified form, it is well known in Brittany, and is a favourite in Munster. It was the earliest fairy legend known to our boyhood, and is the most popular of those that have been preserved by the people of the south-east of Ireland. Every locality lays the scene in some rath in the neighbourhood. The phraseology in which the legend was so often heard is preserved.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 14

The Flesh-Devouring Monster of Cork

Cork · townland · Cork

A terrible monster in a district of Cork demanded flesh meat as tribute, threatening the people with starvation. A holy man tricked the creature into a pot, which was then dropped into a deep hole in the river, trapping it until it realised it had been deceived by the double meaning of a Celtic word for 'Monday'.

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the domestic hen gives a name to a mountain in Londonderry, Sliabh Cearc* and to a castle in Connaught, Caislean na Cearca. The dog has a valley in Roscommon {Glafin na Moddha) to himself, and the pig {muc), among his possessions, owns more than one line of vale. Fion's exploits in killing terrible birds with his arrows, the boar that ravaged the great valley in Munster, and the various " piasts " in the lakes, bring him on a line with the Grecian Hercules. And as the old Pagans of that country and of Italy, along with a wholesome dread and hatred of the Stymphalides, hydras, and lions, warred on by Hercules, together with the Harpies and Cerberus, entertained for them a certain fetish reverence, so it is not to be wondered at if the secluded Celts of Ireland regarded their boars, and serpents, and cats, with similar feelings. Mr. Hackett relates a legend of a monster (genus and species not specified) who levied black mail in the form of flesh meat on a certain district in Cork to such an amount that they apprehended general starvation. In this exigency they applied to a holy man, and acting under his directions, they called the terrible tax-collector to a parley. They represented to him that they were nearly destitute of means to furnish his honour with another meal, but that if he consented to enter a certain big pot, and sleep till
* In Celtic words c and g have uniformly a hard sound : they are never pronounced as c in cent or g in gem.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn

As the companion tells it

Somewhere close to Cork, a legend tells of a monster whose kind was never specified, that levied black mail on a district here in the form of flesh meat. The demand ran so high the people feared general starvation. In their need they turned to a holy man. Acting under his directions, they called the terrible tax-collector to a parley. They told him they were nearly destitute of means to furnish his honour with another meal, but that if he consented to enter a certain big pot and sleep, they would see to the rest. He entered the pot. They dropped it into a deep hole in the river, and there he was trapped. He remained there until he realised he had been deceived by the double meaning of a Celtic word for Monday. The story places this creature alongside the boars and serpents and cats that the secluded Celts of Ireland regarded with a certain reverence, much as the pagans of Greece and Italy did their hydras and lions.

The Kildare Pooka's Nightly Labours

Rathbride · townland · Kildare · 1798

While the master of a Kildare big house is away during the Ninety-eight rebellion, servants are terrified nightly by noises in the kitchen. A scullery boy hiding in the hearth witnesses a great grey ass-shaped Pooka arrive, cook, wash, and clean the entire kitchen before dawn, revealing itself as the spirit of a lazy former servant condemned to labour as penance.

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" Ah then, sir!" says he, at last, picking up courage, "if it isn't taking a liberty, might I ax who you are, and why are you so kind as to do half of the day's work for the girls every night ? " " No liberty at all," says the pooka, says he : " I'll tell you, and welcome. I was a servant here in the time of Squire R.'s father, and was the laziest rogue that ever was clothed and fed, and done nothing for it. When my time came for the other world, this is the punishment was laid on me — to come here, and do all this labour every night, and then go out in the cold. It isn't so bad in the fine weather, but if you only knew what it is to stand with your head between your legs, facing the stonn, from midnight to sunrise on a bleak
Legends of the " Good People.^'' 1 29

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 25

The Protestant-Free Graveyard of Kilranelagh

Kilranelagh · townland · Wicklow

At the churchyard of Kilranelagh, no Protestant man or woman was ever allowed to rest. A boundary wall of loose stones grew from stones brought by funeral-goers, and a well nearby held wooden cups tied to a superstition that the spirit of the latest-buried child had to serve water to all previous dead and guard the graveyard until the next funeral.

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say of them on this occasion. In their neighbourhood, on the crest of another hill, is the churchyard of Kilranelagh, where no corpse of Protestant man or woman has ever been allowed to rest. The boundary -wall is formed of loose stones, and the top is very narrow in comparison Avith its basg. Every man attending a funeral brings a stone picked up on its way, and throws it on the circular fence, and so the mighty ring has grown. Outside this boundary is a deep, round well, and a tall curved recess in the wall just above it. This recess is furnished with ledges, which are plentifully provided with wooden cups — every one interring in the graveyard the corpse of a child under five years of age providing one of these vessels. The spirit of the latest interred is obliged to supply every one of its predecessors with a cup of water and to keep watch and ward over the sacred inclosure till the next funeral ; and so, when two convo}'s are approaching at the same time, there sometimes occur unseemly races and struggles. Having sketched our scenery, we proceed with the legend of

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 40

The Sea-Wife of Bantry

Bantry · townland · Cork

A man near Bantry marries a Moruach (mermaid) who is an excellent wife, but sea-cattle keep coming to graze near her out of kinship. When he cruelly chases and wounds the sea-cattle despite her pleas, she dons her magic cap and abandons him, leaving descendants with scaly skin and webbed fingers.

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They would have lived comfortably, but many sea-cows, aware of her original condition, would persist in coming up to graze on her husband's meadows, and thus be near their relative. The husband, an unsentimental fellow, would chase and worry the poor sea-cattle, even to wounds and bruises, till the wife, after many useless appeals to his good feelings, poked out her Cohuleen Druith and quitted him. He was sorry when it was too late. His children, and theirs again, Avere distinguished by a rough scaly skin and a delicate membrane between fingers and toes.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 22

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, a man married a Moruach, a mermaid, who made an excellent wife. But sea-cows kept coming up to graze on his meadows, drawn by kinship to her. He was an unsentimental fellow and chased the poor sea-cattle, even to wounds and bruises, despite her useless appeals to his good feelings. Finally she poked out her Cohuleen Druith, her magic cap, and quitted him. He was sorry when it was too late. His children, and theirs again, were distinguished by a rough scaly skin and a delicate membrane between fingers and toes.

King Irusan's Cave at Knowth

Knowth · townland · Meath

The chief bard Seanchan satirised the cats of Ireland, offending King Irusan, the monstrous cat king who dwelt in a cave at Knowth on the Boyne. In fury, Irusan seized the poet and carried him off intending to devour him.

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ing the contemptible vermin to thrust their whiskers into the egg intended for his dinner. He was at Cruachan in Connaught at the time, but the venom of his verse disagreeably affected King Iriisan, in his royal cave at Knowth, on the Boyne. He (the cat) took the road, and never stopped for refreshment, till, in the presence of the full court at Cruachan, he seized on the pestilent poet, and throwing him on his back, swept eastwards across the Shannon in full career. His intent was to take him home and make a sumptuous meal of him, assisted by Madame Sharptooth, his spouse, their daughter of the same name, and Roughtooth and the Purrer, their sons. However, as he was cantering through Clonmacnois, St. Kiaran, who, like his Saxon brother, St. Dunstan, was a skilful worker in metals, espied him while hammering on a long red-hot bar of iron. The saint set very small value on Seanchan as a bard, but, regarding him as a baptized man, he determined to disappoint the revengeful Irusan. Rushing out of his workshop, and assuming the correct attitude of a spear-thrower, he launched the flaming bar, which, piercing the cat near the flank, an inch behind the helpless body of the bard, passed through and through, stretched the feline king expiring in agony, and gave the ill-conditioned poet a space for repentance.
Not only can a general resemblance be traced in all

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 4

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here is a cave at Knowth on the Boyne, where King Irusan lived. He was the king of the cats of Ireland. The chief bard Seanchan satirised all the cats of the land, and his venomous verse reached Irusan in his royal cave. The cat took the road and never stopped for refreshment until he reached Cruachan in Connaught, where in the full court he seized the poet, threw him on his back, and swept eastwards across the Shannon. His intent was to take Seanchan home to Knowth and make a meal of him, helped by his spouse Madame Sharptooth, their daughter of the same name, and their sons Roughtooth and the Purrer. But as he was cantering through Clonmacnois, St Kiaran espied him while hammering on a long red-hot bar of iron. The saint set small value on Seanchan as a bard, but regarding him as a baptized man, he rushed out, assumed the attitude of a spear-thrower, and launched the flaming bar. It pierced the cat near the flank, an inch behind the helpless body of the bard, passed through and through, stretched the feline king expiring in agony, and gave the ill-conditioned poet a space for repentance.

Shemus Rua's Witch-Cap Flight to the Castle Cellar

Wicklow · townland · Wicklow

Shemus Rua discovers his housekeeper Madge and other witches drinking in his kitchen before flying off on twigs wearing red caps to raid an English castle's wine cellar. He steals a cap and joins their flight, but is later caught by the castle lord and sentenced to hang until the magic words save him at the gallows.

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" By yarrow and rue, And my red cap too, Hie over to England."
Witchcraft, Sorcery, Ghosts, and Fetches. 167

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 34

The Battle of Gavra and Death of Fion

Garristown · townland · Dublin · 283

Fion, son of Cumhail, was slain at the Boyne, and years later the Fianna were destroyed by King Cairbre at the memorable battle of Gavra (Garristown, Meath), where most of the Fenian chiefs were killed, including Oscur, treacherously slain by the king.

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sonage of military fame — Fion, son of Cumhail — with the title of their commander in the days of King Cairbre. This hero was slain at the Boyne, A.D.283,and xht Fiauna stood in such a defiant attitude towards the monarch some twelve years later, that he assailed them, with the assistance of the Connaught portion of the body, in the memorable battle of Gavra (Garris-town, in Meath), where most of their chiefs were slain, and an end put to the institution. This battle is sung in a poem ascribed to Oisin, son of Fion, preserved in the Book of Leinster, a manuscript of Finn !M'Gorman, Bishop of Kildare, who died 1160. , ,] ■ The following quatrains are not from this version, but
J / will give a good idea of the style of the old heroic poetry,

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 48

The Bewitched Churn near Scarawalsh

Scarawalsh · townland · Wexford

Near Scarawalsh a woman in bad repute is seen skimming a well and meadow dew on May eve, cursing the milk to prevent butter from forming. When the farmer's family churns without success, they discover witch's butter and use fire, iron, and ash charms to force the witch to reveal herself and return the stolen butter.

Read the passage

Near the townland mentioned there lived an old woman in bad repute with her neighbours. She was seen, one May eve, skimming a well that lay in a neighbouring farm ; and when that was done, she went into the adjoining meadow, and skimmed the dew ofif the grass. One person said he heard her muttering, " Come all to me, and none to he." In a day or two, the owner of the farm, coming in from the fields about noon, found the family still at the churn, and no sign of butter. He was a little frightened, and looked here and there, and, at last, spied a bit of stale butter fastened to the mantel beam of the open fire-place.
" Oh, you may as well stop ; " said he, " look what's there ! " " Oh, the witch's butter," said one of the girls ;

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 29

The Contested Body of St. Patrick and His Burial at Down

near Downpatrick · townland · Down

After St. Patrick's death at Down, the men of Armagh and the people of Down each claimed the right to his body for burial, nearly coming to violence. A vision caused the Armagh men to withdraw peacefully, and the men of Down buried the saint's remains in a richly ornamented tomb at their church.

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At last when anger was waxing hot on either side, the men of Down were surprised and rejoiced to see the men of Armagh filing away orderly and peaceably to the west, till not a man was left behind. They lost no time, but conveyed the saint's remains to their church, and there deposited them in a richly-ornamented tomb.
A vision had appeared to the Ardmachians of the coffin of the saint laid on his own chariot, and his milkwhite oxen conveying it in the direction of Armagh. They followed the phantasm, but as it appeared entering a ford near the city of Armagh, oxen, chariot, and coffin vanished, and the saddened multitude sought their respective homes. The body of St. Brigid was laid near that of St. Patrick after her decease, and the church was aftenvards further enriched by the remains of St. Colum Cille, concerning the translation of whose body the following legend is told : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 83

The Ghostly Spirit of Fergus Mac Roigh Summoned at His Grave

Mayo · townland · Mayo

Twelve saints, including St. Colum Cille and St. Kiaran, gathered at the grave of the warrior Fergus Mac Roigh in Mayo and after three days of invocation summoned his spirit from the mound. The ghost recited the heroic legend of the Tain, which St. Kiaran transcribed onto a cow's hide.

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Apostles (bishops or saints) of Erinn, including St. Colum Cille and St. Kiaran, to the grave of Fergus Mac Roigh, in Mayo, in order that they might induce the spirit of that defunct warrior (himself one of the personages in the great cattle spoil), to appear and reveal the story to them. The ecclesiastics assembled, and after three days' invocations, the shade of Fergus, "high, mighty as in life," issued from his mound, and told the weird, heroic legend. St. Kiaran, of Clonmacnois, produced the skin of his pet dun cow, on which he engrossed the narrative as it came from the mouth of the ghost, and when the task was achieved he re-entered his dark abode in the Tulach. This first draft has been lost, but we have the defective copy made (as already specified) some time prior to 1106; and the volume in which it is presen-ed derives its name from the skin on which the saint penned the original.*
Seanchan and his companions, having their proper faculties now restored, were ordered by the saint to disperse, and never again oppress or annoy king or chief by visitations in a large body, extravagant demands, or unlawful use of the terrible powers of satire. Evil usages and principles seem possessed of surprising vitality. Kings, and chiefs, and common men — even rats (if legends tell truth) — feared satire in the sixth century when St. Kiaran ruled Clonmacnois. So late as 1800, poetic satirists by profession had free bed and board in the provinces among the gentry and farmers, by whom a lampoon for stinginess or some domestic scandal was very much dreaded.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 72

The Poisoned Arrows and the Bath of White Cows

Enniscorthy · townland · Wexford

After a fierce battle near Enniscorthy, foreign attackers fired poisoned arrows at the retreating Irish, killing three sons-in-law of the chief and mortally wounding his daughter. Mysterious strangers arrived and healed the wounded by bathing them in a mixture of white cow's milk and Slaney water.

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But my brave chief, and his son, and his son-in-latos had no notion of waiting an attack within their ditches and palisades. Out themselves and their kith, kin, and following, rushed, and attacked the Welshmen, or W^oodmen, as they were called ; and a bloody fight went on till the sun was near going behind the White Mountain. At last the captain of the strangers blew a great blast on his bugle-horn, and asked the Irish chief to lay aside the fight till next morning. He consented, and both sides separated, one party moving up to the great rath, and the other down to the boats that brought them up from the Bay of Wexford, that was called Loch Garman in old times. W'ell, just as they separated, a flight of arrows came from the hill on the far bank, and struck several of the Wexford men. No matter how small a scratch was made, the flesh around it began to itch, and smart, and
Ossianic and other Early Legends. 305

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 72

The Battle of Moytura Near Cong

Cong · townland · Mayo

The Danaans, having landed near Cong under cover of a magical fog, threatened the Firbolg king Achy that their Druids could resurrect fallen warriors after battle. The Firbolgs countered with charmed rowan stakes to pin down any revived Danaan dead, and after fierce fighting the Firbolgs were defeated and banished to the western islands.

Read the passage

battle, would pass through the slain, and by their spells of power recall every dead warrior to his pristine life and strength. "We defy your Druids," said the Firbolg spokesman. " Ever}' one of our curai (companions) shall be attended by a kern bearing twenty sharpened stakes of the rowan-tree ; and as every Danaan warrior falls in fight, his body shall be pinned to the sod by one of these charmed staves."
The threat had its effect ; and the succeeding battles were fought without the aid of draoideacht on either side. The Firbolgs being defeated, were allowed to people the islands off the western coast ; and it is supposed that Dun yEngus in Arran, and other stupendous caisiols (stone forts), are the architectural remains of this brave but unsuccessful people. The ancient martial games and marriage-fairs held at Tailtean, now Telltown, in Meath, were instituted in honour of Tailte, wife of the brave Firbolg king slain at Moy-tuir.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 71

The Corpse-Freighted Barque of Colum Cille

near Downpatrick · townland · Down · 597

After St. Colum Cille died in Iona, his monks delayed bringing his relics to rest beside St. Patrick and St. Brigid at Down. A mysterious unmanned boat carrying his undecayed body miraculously sailed itself into the harbour at Downpatrick, where the bishop and clergy received it in solemn procession.

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"A week since, just as the sun Avas directly in the south, the loiterers and labourers on the shore observed a small object far at sea making for the harbour, but their wonder was great when, as it approached, they found it to be a decked boat with sails closely furled, yet proceeding at a rapid speed through the water. No oars were visible, but still it came swiftly onward, leaving a long, straight line of foam behind. The crowd that_
Legends of the Celtic Saifits. 333

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 84

The Cursed Cattle of Durzy Island

near Dursey Island · townland · Cork

A family on Durzy Island found a magical black bull and cow that sustained their household for years. When a wicked servant girl struck and cursed the cow while milking her, the cow and her kin fled into the sea and turned to stone, becoming the rocks known as the Bull, Cow, and Calf.

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Several centuries since, a family residing on Durzy Island, off Bantry Bay, found a beautiful little coal-black bull and cow on a verdant spot near the beach. The cow furnished sufficient butter and milk for all domestic Avants, and next year a calf was added to the number. "When this youngster was come to the age of affording additional support to the family, a wicked servant girl, one day milking the parent cow, so far forgot herself as to strike the gentle beast with the spancel, and curse her bitterly. The outraged animal turned round to the other two, who were grazing at some distance, and lowed to them in a sorrowful tone, and immediately the three moved rapidly off to the sea. They j^lunged in, and forthwith the three rocks, since known as the Bull, Cow, and Calf, arose, and continue to this day to protest against the wickedness and ingratitude of cross-grained servant-girls.
We are indebted to Captain F. W. L. Thomas, R.N., for the following legend of the sea-dwellers : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 23

The Doctor's Fetch and Sudden Death

Dublin · townland · Dublin

In an Irish city, a doctor's wife saw the apparition (fetch) of her sleeping husband standing at a table in moonlight, a sign believed to foretell death when seen in the evening. The next night her husband burst a blood vessel in his lungs and died, fulfilling the fetch's grim omen.

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immediately after lie cried to her in low and interrupted accents, " Ellen, dear, I am suffocating ; send for Dr. C." She sprang up, huddled on some clothes, and, without waiting for the slow movements of the servant, she ran to his house. He came with all speed, but his efforts for his friend were useless. He had burst a large bloodvessel in the lungs, and was soon beyond human aid.
In the passionate lamentations which the bereaved wife could not restrain in the presence of the physician, she frequently cried out, " Oh ! the fetch, the fetch ! " At a later period she told him of the appearance the night before her husband's death ; and as he thoroughly believed her statement, it involved the theory he henceforth entertained on the subject of Fetches in considerable confusion.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 42

As the companion tells it

Somewhere close to Dublin, a doctor's wife saw what she called a fetch, an apparition, the night before her husband's death. The next night he cried out to her, 'Ellen, dear, I am suffocating; send for Dr. C.' She ran to the doctor's house without waiting for the slow servant, and he came at once, but her husband had burst a large blood vessel in the lungs and was soon beyond human aid. In her grief she kept crying about the fetch, and later told Dr. C what she had seen the night before. He believed her completely, which left his theories about fetches in considerable confusion.

The King of Ireland's Slaughter of the Architects

Cashel · townland · Tipperary

The narrative recalls that in ancient times the King of Ireland killed the celebrated architects Rog, Robog, Rodin, and Rooney so that no other palace could ever equal his own, a memory that made the Goban Saor cautious when summoned to build for the King of Munster.

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At last it came to the King of Munster's turn to get his castle built, and to Goban he sent. Goban knew that, in other times far back, the King of Ireland killed the celebrated architects, Rog, Robog, Rodin, and Rooney, the way they would never build another palace equal to his, and so he mentioned something to his wife privately before he set out. He took his son along with him, and the first night they got lodging at a farmer's house. The farmer told them they might leave their beasts to graze all night in any of his fields they pleased. So they entered one field, and says Goban, "Tie the bastes up for the night." " Why V says the son ; " I can't find anything strong enough." " Well, then, let us try the next field. Now," says he, " tie up the horses if you can." " Oh ! by my word, here's a thistle strong enough this time." " That will do."
The next night they slept at another farmer's house, where there were two young daughters — one with black hair, very industrious ; the other with fair complexion, and rather liking to sit with her hands across, and listen to the talk round the fire, than to be doing any work. While they were chatting about one thing and another, says the Goban, " Young girls, if I'd wish to be young again, it would be for the sake of getting one of you for a wife ; but I think very few old people that do be thinking at all of the other world, ever wish to live their lives over again. Still I wish that you may have good luck in your choice of a husband, and so I give you three bits of advice. Always have the head of an old woman by the hob ; warm yourselves with your work in the morning ; and, some time before I come back, take the skin of a

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 10

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, the old story is set. The King of Munster sent for Goban to build his castle. Goban knew that far back in other times, the King of Ireland killed the celebrated architects Rog, Robog, Rodin, and Rooney, so they would never build another palace equal to his. Remembering that, Goban said something to his wife privately before he set out, and he took his son along with him. The first night they lodged at a farmer's house. The farmer told them they could leave their beasts to graze in any of his fields. They entered one field, and Goban said, tie the beasts up for the night. The son said he could not find anything strong enough. Goban said to try the next field. The son found a thistle strong enough, and Goban said that would do. The next night they slept at another farmer's house where there were two young daughters. One had black hair and was industrious. The other had a fair complexion and preferred to sit with her hands crossed, listening to talk round the fire, rather than doing any work. Goban told the young girls that if he wished to be young again, it would be for the sake of getting one of them for a wife. But he said very few old people thinking of the other world ever wish to live their lives over. He wished them good luck in choosing a husband and gave three bits of advice. Always have the head of an old woman by the hob. Warm yourselves with your work in the morning. And some time before he came back, take the skin of a

The Tobinstown Sheeoge

Tobinstown · townland · Carlow

Katty Clarke of Tobinstown forgets to bless her infant son one morning after a cursing fit, and he is soon replaced by a fairy changeling that cries constantly and eats voraciously. The family and neighbours perform a ritual at the manure heap with an incantation to restore the true child.

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All at once she heard a scream from the boy, and when she turned, and ran to him, she found him in convulsions. She ran home with him, administered salt and water, and the other specifics popular in the country. The fit passed away, but she was grieved to perceive that the weazened, pained expression still remained on his face, and that his whimpering and whining did not abate — in fact, to use a well-worn Irish expression, '' the cry was never out of his mouth." He ate as much as would suftice a full-grown man, and was always ready for food both at regular meal-times and between them. After a week of this state of things, the neighbours came to the conclusion that it was a sheeoge that Katty was slaving her life out for. Katty's family came next into the same persuasion, and lastly, but with some doubts, Katty herself.
At a family and neighbourly council, held round the fire, after the children had been sent to bed, they proceeded to get rid of the little wretch, and this was the order of the ceremonial : —

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 13

Tuirrean Transformed into a Wolf-hound near Galway Bay

near Galway Bay · townland · Clare

The jealous sighe Uchtdealbh lured Illan's wife Tuirrean away and used a druidic wand to transform her into a wolf-hound, abandoning her at the house of Feargus Fionnliath on the shore of Galway Bay. Illan was forced to bargain with the sighe to have his wife restored to human form.

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was already provided with a sighe-love, so he secured the fate of his aunt in this wise. He put her hand into that of Oisin, who intrusted her to Caoilte, who intrusted her to Mac Luacha, &c. ; and thus she passed under the guardianship of Diarmaid, GoU Mac Morna, another Luacha, and so into the arms of Ulan. Her married life was happy for a while, but it did not please the Sighe, Uchtdcalbh (Fair Bosom) that her mortal lover should be happy in any society but her own. So she paid her a visit in the absence of her husband, and invited her out, as she wished to give her an important message from Fion, relative to a feast he wanted to have prepared. Being safe from the eyes of the household, she muttered some words, and drawing a druidic wand from under her mantle, she struck her with it, and changed her into the most beautiful wolf-hound that eyes ever beheld. She then took her to the house of Feargus Fionnliath, on the shore of the bay of Galway. Ulan, hearing on his return that his wife had gone out with a strange woman, and had not since been seen, guessed that Fair Bosom had disposed of her in some way, and began to tremble for the result. It was not long arriving. Fion missing his aunt, demanded her safe in life and limb at the hands of Oisin, who demanded her from Caoilte, who demanded her from Mac Luacha, &c. till Luacha the second demanded from Ulan the person of his wife in good health, or his own head. Ulan acknowledged the justice of the request, and merely demanded a few days' grace.
He at once set forward to the palace-cavern of his sighe, and obtained his wish, but on the pure condition of being faithful to her till his death, and never more seeking mortal mistress or wife. She then sought out Tuirrean, and bringing her to some distance from Fergus's rath, restored her to her pristine shape, and then delivered her over to her nephew. Luacha the second, the last of the sureties, represented to the great chief, that the least recompense he could make him for the terror he had experienced, was the hand of the restored

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 36

Dhonocha Rua Tried for His Life at Wexford Assizes

Wexford · townland · Wexford · 1775

The wandering pedlar-poet Dhonocha Rua was tried for his life at the Summer Assizes in Wexford in 1775 over a pamphlet he had written, and was acquitted largely through the efforts of George Ogle.

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Before he would begin his passages from Irish History, or Milton, or the Iliad, the children should be sent to bed ; and if any ignorant yet inquisitive listener interrupted him by what he considered an untimely question, he would suspend his recitation for half an hour, or, in some cases, the entire evening. Notwithstanding his literary attainments, he was sadly deficient in what were considered good manners among the small farmers, tradesmen, and comfortable peasants. But Dhonocha Rua, his poetry, his pamphlet, for which he was tried for his life at the Summer Assizes in Wexford, in 1775, and acquitted chiefly through the exertions of George Ogle,
2 44 Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 56

As the companion tells it

Somewhere around here, the wandering pedlar-poet Dhonocha Rua faced trial for his life at the Summer Assizes in Wexford in 1775. He had written a pamphlet that brought him before the court, but he was acquitted chiefly through the exertions of George Ogle. He was a man who could recite passages from Irish History, Milton, and the Iliad, though he would send children to bed before he began, and if someone interrupted with an untimely question, he would stop reciting for half an hour or even the whole evening. Despite his learning, he lacked what the small farmers and tradesmen considered good manners.

Droochan's Ghost Hoax

near Mount Leinster · townland · Carlow

A townland north of Mount Leinster was said to be haunted by the evil spirit of Droochan, a man of evil life. People returning from a Sunday dance heard dreadful cries and rock-tumbling noises, but the fright was later revealed to be a prank by a local wag with a cask full of stones.

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A townland north of Mount Leinster is infested by the above-named evil spirit. Within a few years, sundry people returning from a cross-roads' dance, on a Sunday evening, just as night had set in, were greatly terrified. Their road lay along the side of a tolerably steep hill, and as they were coming on, and chatting, they heard the most dreadful cries above them, and a noise as of rocks tumbling down directly to crush them. They ran away at their best speed, and still heard the unearthly yells higher up, and the dreadful sounds, as if half the rocks and loose stones on the heights were sweeping down, crossing the road behind them, and plunging headlong into the stream at the bottom of the hill. Terror and dismay ruled the neighbourhood that night, and for a week longer, when the fright of the Sabbath-breakers was turned to anger and shame. The wag of the next village had carried an empty cask to the summit of the hill, supplied the inside with some stones, fastened the end securely, and just as the gossipers came below, he let slip the engine.
1 86 Fictions of the Irish Celts.

Project Gutenberg #legendaryfiction00kenn, Chapter 40

Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts

The stories, best first

The Death of the Children of Lir at Inis na Gluaire

The Woman Pitched to the Tower's Summit at Ardmore

Aoife Transforms the Children of Lir into Swans

Burial of Oscur at Gavra

Death for Sighting the Sunken City of Kilstoheen

Sionan's Fatal Taste of Forbidden Knowledge

St. Patrick's Fire Contest with the Druids at Tara

The King's Eye Sacrificed at Lough Derg

The Well That Drowned a Woman and Birthed Lough Neagh

The Witches' Sabbath at Gallows Hill, Bantry

Kesara's Drowning After the Flood

Slaughter and Burning of the Woodmen

The Death of King Mesgera and Queen Buona

The Drowning of Lady Dubh at the Ford of Wattles

The Haunting of Squire Garret's House near Kilcavan

The Vanishing of the Farmer's Wife at Coolgarrow

Saav Transformed into a Deer at Almhuin

The Barbers Slain by the King with Horse's Ears

The Changeling Cast into the Boro River at Grange

The Miraculous Recovery of St. Colum Cille's Body at Down

The Robber Macaldus and the Murder on the Boyne Road

The Vanishing Sighe of Lough Inchiquin

Black Stairs on Fire: Witches' Sabbath Foiled by a Clever Girl

Burial of Buona and the Hazel Tree

St Kiaran Slays the Monstrous Cat King at Clonmacnois

The 1808 Serpent Scare at Kennystown Bog

The Death and Contested Burial of St. Patrick

The Kilranelagh Stirk: A Ghost Hoax Among the Tombs

The Murdered Man of the Farmer's House

The Repentant Ghost of Graigue

Battle at Howth and the Slaughter of Ulster Warriors

Gilla na Chreck an Gour Meets Giants and the Devil

Terrorised by the Pooka Between Wood and Hedge

The Forgotten Well of Killarney

The Piercing of King Aongus at Baptism

The Sorceress of Bantry's Enchanted Boat

The Year-Long Battle of Ventry Harbour

Conan's Ordeal at Ceash

St. Lateerin's Curse on the Smith of Cullin

The Belated Priest's Encounter with the Chlann Sighe near Ballindaggin

The Flesh-Devouring Monster of Cork

The Kildare Pooka's Nightly Labours

The Protestant-Free Graveyard of Kilranelagh

The Sea-Wife of Bantry

King Irusan's Cave at Knowth

Shemus Rua's Witch-Cap Flight to the Castle Cellar

The Battle of Gavra and Death of Fion

The Bewitched Churn near Scarawalsh

The Contested Body of St. Patrick and His Burial at Down

The Ghostly Spirit of Fergus Mac Roigh Summoned at His Grave

The Poisoned Arrows and the Bath of White Cows

The Battle of Moytura Near Cong

The Corpse-Freighted Barque of Colum Cille

The Cursed Cattle of Durzy Island

The Doctor's Fetch and Sudden Death

The King of Ireland's Slaughter of the Architects

The Tobinstown Sheeoge

Tuirrean Transformed into a Wolf-hound near Galway Bay

Dhonocha Rua Tried for His Life at Wexford Assizes

Droochan's Ghost Hoax