The Banshee's Death Cry.

By Ossory.

I am among those who [truly?] believe in the existence of the Banshee, though it must be admitted that her appearances chanting her weird melodies are not now by any means so frequent as they formerly were. To people who are not confirmed sceptics on the subject of the genuineness of this supernatural being's visitation immediately preceding a death in an old family, a satisfactory explanation of the rarity of the [?s] on which the Banshee is now heard may be found in the fact that the "old stock" in the country are reapidly disappearing, and that our resident noblemen, to whose families they were specifically attached, are not now so numerous in Ireland as we would desire them to be.

I will begin my story by mentioning that in my early boyhood, while residing with relatives in a [?ed] part of the County Down. I undoubtedly heard the wailing of the Banshee, not once, but several times. Its cadence, melancholy in the extreme, could not be mistaken for anything human - now shrill enough to be heard for miles, and sufficiently weird at the midnight hour to freeze the marrow in one's bones, anon sinking to a low and mournful dirge such as was familiar to country folk long ago when "keening" for the dead was the practice at rustic "wakes."

My first experience of the Banshee was not a pleasant one, arousing me from a peaceful sleep to listen in fear and trembling to the death cry, which was felt by all in the household of which I formed a part to be the forerunner of dissolution for some one in the immediate neighbourhood.

Close at hand, an old family whom I will call Lacy - one of the best in that part of the country - had their mansion, and generation after generation of them had lived and died there, respected and esteemed for their good qualities by men of all denominations and conditions for miles around their residence. There is no vestige of them there now, the Encumbered Estates Act of many years ago having enabled them to dispose of their extensive but ruined property, with the proceeds of which the family removed elsewhere.

At the time to which my story refers old Mr Lacy - De Lacy the country people called him - had been for a considerable time ailing from the results of an accident in the hunting field, and though the best medical assistance available was in constant attendance upon him, he made no progress towards recovery. Although confined to bed for many months, no member of his family entertained any apprehension that his ailments would end fatally, and so little did he dream of such an eventuality himself, that a few days before his death he insisted on his wife and family sending out invitations for a ball to the surrounding gentry. Of course, he could not participate in the festivities, but he derived pleasure from listening to the enjoyment of others, and in receiving visits in his bedroom from some of his more intimate friends, who cheered him with the news he loved - the flight of horsemen, horses, and dogs after the wily fox.

Directly at the back of the De Lacy mansion was a grass mound of great extent, this being thickly planted with laurel, which grew to a considerable height, and with yew trees, which gave an air of sombreness and repose to the place. the old gentleman's bedroom looked directly on this plantation, and a week after the festivities referred to, just as the witching hour arrived, the wail of the Banshee, coming directly from the mound, startled Mr Lacy from a light slumber, as it startled his whole household, as well as my relatives and myself. Men from the mansion started to explore the place, some of them believing that it was a trick being played upon the old man, while others were of a very different opinion, and were fully satisfied that it was the Banshee giving premonition of an approaching death. As they moved through the laurels, the melancholy wail preceded and followed them alternately, and having explored every vestige of the ground they were obliged to give up the quest and return to the house, the dirge continuing uninterruptedly for the space of an hour afterwards.

This supernatural "keening" was continued for the two following nights, to the consternation of the Lacy family, who regarded it as the sure forerunner of the death of the head of the household, after which it was heard no more for a couple of weeks, at the end of which time Mr Lacy died. Among the better class of people "wakes," in the ordinary acceptation of that term, were not observed, but for several days after the sad occurrence the gentry of that part of the county flocked to the mansion to offer their condolences to the bereaved wife and family, while the servants assembled in a spacious outhouse, and paid due respect to the melancholy event, and to the memory of a kind and indulgent master. While only whispered words were spoken, and the remembrance of the Banshee's visitation brought fear and trembling on the group, the wail again broke on their ears shrilly, sharply, unnaturally, commencing as if in the adjoining plantation, and gradually approaching the outhouse in which the servants were assembled until it seemed to emanate from the window-sill of the place in which they stood trembling and alarmed.

By and bye the melancholy strains ceased, and the courage of these humble people was again in a measure restored. But nothing could induce them to repeat the experiment of spending another night in the outhouse, or of even venturing near the plantation after darkness had set in. Mr Lacy  was buried in due course, and the Banshee disappeared for a time.

That disappearance may be reckoned at a period of five years, during which the eldest son had succeeded to the partimony of his father. Harold Lacy was a keen sportsman, especially when a fox was in question, and he had more "brushes" to his credit than any other member of the Hunt. He was, besides, a dashing and fearless horseman, and on several occasions won large wagers by leaping his hunter "Rory" over distances that would now in sporting circles be regarded as impossible, and as an act such as a madman only would attempt. These feats were frequently attempted and performed, but knowing people who were more careful in their runs through ploughed fields and grass lands shook their heads at the dare-devil recklessness of young Harold, and predicted that he would some day come to grief. They endeavoured to dissuade him from these dangerous practices, for he was a universal favourite with all who knew him; but, confident in his own horsemanship, he laughed at their fears, and smilingly assured them that they had not yet seen all that he could accomplish in this respect. "Rory" was admittedly the finest and cleanest jumper in the county, and once in the saddle Harold feared no obstacle that could come in his path.

In the month of October a grand meet of the Hunt was arranged, and the gathering was to be honoured with the presence of a number of lords, ladies and honourables, who were promised a  magnificent run. Foxes were numerous in the country, and splendid sport was fairly anticipated. Just a week, however, before the day arranged for the meet, the Banshee was again heard in the plantation, chanting her dolorous wail, and striking terror to all who heard the weird cry - all but Harold, who attached no importanc to it, and who could not be dissuaded from joining the Hunt in the run. For two consecutive nights the Banshee repeated her awe-inspiring dirge, after which it ceased.

The day of the meet at length arrived. The weather was everything a sportsman could desire - a southern wind and a cloudy sky, which is regarded as betokening a hunting morning, and in due course the gay party started off. A Jack fox was soon found which gave them plenty of play. By and bye nearly the whole of the field fell off, leaving Harold and a few of the hounds close on the fox's track. But Reynard disappeared over a rock which stood at the head of a precipice, and Harold, his good steed, and the hounds that followed him were dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Thus was the Banshee's warning verified.

The Weekly Irish Times, 27th October 1894.