Until the Old Age Pension came to kill off the old people and cut short the span of human life in the mountains, there was no more fruitful subject of conversation among the shanahies of the mid-Donegal Gaedhealtacht on winter nights than Scariff Hollis. The name has burned itself into the imagination of the Tirchonaill peasantry. Many are the traditions connected with that fatal mid-summer day over two hundred and eighty years ago.
We are told that three score men crossed the Swilly two days before the battle, each carrying a sack of corn, how the corn was hurriedly ground, and how milk instead of water was used in the baking of the oat-cake. And we are likewise informed of the plan adopted to keep the corn dry when crossing where there was neither bridge, ford, nor stepping-stones. The legends tell us too that there was a stormy discussion in the Irish camp upon the advisability or otherwise of [making] a battle. A friar whose name is not mentioned counselled retreat for a mile or two into a more hilly district, but his advice was unheeded.
Then there is the story of the red haired woman, the banshee of Doon. This fairy lady came into the camp or the Gael on the night before the battle, and, facing Bishop MacMahon, warned him against risking battle on the morrow. "Sun, wind, and water will favour the Gall to-morrow," said she. The Bishop laughed. "Look at that hillock," said the fairy again. "There the women of the shee and the women of the Gael will keen together to-morrow night." Next day Scariff Hollis was fought and lost. And the following night and for many nights afterwards there were great lamentations heard at the hillock indicated by the banshee. And sure enough it is called Ard an Chaoi ever since.
In the Derry Journal, 23rd June 1933.
Showing posts with label 1930s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1930s. Show all posts
Tuesday, 27 June 2017
Sunday, 18 June 2017
Muff banshee
The Muff "Ghost".
It is nearly three weeks now since I first heard of Muff's midnight apparition. In fact, I was invited to go down and investigate it, but I was compelled to decline, because I'm not a psychist, and besides, I've enough to do with people and things in this world without interfering with the comings and goings of the inhabitants of the next. Since then, I heard a lot more about the mysterious visitant, but I refrained from mentioning the matter until now, lest it might interfere with the attendance at Mr. J. P. McIvor's dance in aid of the funds to help the Foyle fisherment to uphold their right to fish in their own territorial waters. One of my informants laughed at this, and remarked that it would take a queer ghost to frighten away the dancers of to-day. He even suggested that the prospect of a ghost hunt would provide an additional attraction. [...]
Back, however, to the visitant. She, or It, was exactly similar to the apparition Coolock in the County Dublin about Christmas time, save that in Muff she was heard, not seen. In Coolock some people saw her - a small, wizzened, old lady in the dress of generations ago, who drove residents almost crazy with the sad, weirdness, of her wail. In Muff there was only the wail, piercing, melancholy, eerie. It started at midnight at the Customs Post and proceeded slowly to the farther end of the village and back again, and all the time nothing was seen. The Civic Guards, as well as other inhabitants, were brought to the door of the barrack by its dreadful, hair-raising, appeal, but could find no one either to help or apprehend.
The cry passed up the centre of the street and down again, but nothing was visible. One gentleman, more daring than his fellows, actually followed it, but received no reward for his pains but its mournful, beseeching cadences. Some asserted it was the bean sidhe, but, as nobody died, that belief was soon discredited. For the past ten days it has ceased to be heard. What the people want to know is - was it the same ghost woman who visited Coolock, if so, why was she not visible in Muff, and why did she skip all the intervening country to renew her lonely wailing in this pretty Border village?
Another question is - where has she gone now? On the last occasion on which she was heard she did not retrace her steps. Did she proceed northwards through Inishowen, and if so, why has she been silent since, and in what place and under what form may she be expected to make her next appearance? I make no attempt to answer any of these questions that have been put to me, because, as I have said, I leave psychic matters to the psychists. I know some people in Muff who are very anxious to carry their investigation further, and would be grateful for information of the next locality in which the mysterious midnight wail is heard. I leave it at that.
Onlooker.
From the Derry Journal, 9th February 1931
It is nearly three weeks now since I first heard of Muff's midnight apparition. In fact, I was invited to go down and investigate it, but I was compelled to decline, because I'm not a psychist, and besides, I've enough to do with people and things in this world without interfering with the comings and goings of the inhabitants of the next. Since then, I heard a lot more about the mysterious visitant, but I refrained from mentioning the matter until now, lest it might interfere with the attendance at Mr. J. P. McIvor's dance in aid of the funds to help the Foyle fisherment to uphold their right to fish in their own territorial waters. One of my informants laughed at this, and remarked that it would take a queer ghost to frighten away the dancers of to-day. He even suggested that the prospect of a ghost hunt would provide an additional attraction. [...]
Back, however, to the visitant. She, or It, was exactly similar to the apparition Coolock in the County Dublin about Christmas time, save that in Muff she was heard, not seen. In Coolock some people saw her - a small, wizzened, old lady in the dress of generations ago, who drove residents almost crazy with the sad, weirdness, of her wail. In Muff there was only the wail, piercing, melancholy, eerie. It started at midnight at the Customs Post and proceeded slowly to the farther end of the village and back again, and all the time nothing was seen. The Civic Guards, as well as other inhabitants, were brought to the door of the barrack by its dreadful, hair-raising, appeal, but could find no one either to help or apprehend.
The cry passed up the centre of the street and down again, but nothing was visible. One gentleman, more daring than his fellows, actually followed it, but received no reward for his pains but its mournful, beseeching cadences. Some asserted it was the bean sidhe, but, as nobody died, that belief was soon discredited. For the past ten days it has ceased to be heard. What the people want to know is - was it the same ghost woman who visited Coolock, if so, why was she not visible in Muff, and why did she skip all the intervening country to renew her lonely wailing in this pretty Border village?
Another question is - where has she gone now? On the last occasion on which she was heard she did not retrace her steps. Did she proceed northwards through Inishowen, and if so, why has she been silent since, and in what place and under what form may she be expected to make her next appearance? I make no attempt to answer any of these questions that have been put to me, because, as I have said, I leave psychic matters to the psychists. I know some people in Muff who are very anxious to carry their investigation further, and would be grateful for information of the next locality in which the mysterious midnight wail is heard. I leave it at that.
Onlooker.
From the Derry Journal, 9th February 1931
Banshees dragged into rubbish predictions about Peace in Europe
There's nothing like being optimistic. But we were at war six weeks later.
"Fuehrer Coming to Britain"
Special to "The People": "I dreamed that I saw Herr Hitler entering the foreign office in Whitehall with Lord Halifax..."
These words, spoken by an Irishwoman living in Dollis Hill, London, have caused intense interest. Not only her friends, but hundreds of local people who know her reputation as a prophetess who has foretold world events with amazing accuracy, are taking seriously this account of a strange dream. Mrs Bridget Driscoll, a Belfast woman, the widow of a distinguished Irish Civil Servant, is to-day the central figure in a remarkable little drama.
Already she has intrigued and interested many people in her locality by her accounts of "Banshee" warnings followed by visions which have almost invariably foreshown events of international importance. Mrs Driscoll is a firm believer in the existence of that queer spirit known as the Banshee.
"Ever since I was a child, living with my parents on the outskirts of Belfast," she told me, "I have had implicit faith in these warnings. I have heard so many stories of how these unhappy spirits have foretold things, and how their predictions have been carried out to the very letter, that I have no doubt as to their genuineness."
The Banshee is the "domestic" spirit which is supposed to be continually watching over certain Irish or Highland Scottish families. This spirit is credited with taking an interest in each member of the family, and to wail immediately before a member of it passes away. The word is the old Irish, ben side, meaning a woman of the elves, or fairies.
The first public intimation of Mrs Driscoll's powers of prophecy was given about two years ago. In the Willesden church of which she is a member, grave anxiety was felt concerning the Rector, who was seriously ill. With her fellow-members of the congregation, Mrs. Driscoll was offering up prayers for the padre's recovery. "Then one night, in the silence of my room," she declared, "I was awakened by the plaintive, unmistakable wailing of the Banshee. I had not heard that sound since the night six years before when it echoed in my ears to fortell the passing of my beloved husband. He was ill, and he died two days later. This time, however, I had the feeling that something pleasant would follow the crying of the Banshee. I cannot tell you how or why this conviction impressed itself upon me, but it was there. And when I slept, after listening to that sad wailing, I dreamt that the Rector, Mr. Wadham, was completely restored to health. Next morning I told many of my friends about my experience. I added that I was certain that Mr. Wadham would recover. And this despite the fact that his doctor had said his case was hopeless. Sure enough, the next thing we heard was that Mr. Wadham had turned the corner. Three weeks from the date of my 'warning' he was well enough to get up and walk about."
Long before this occurrence, Mrs Driscoll had another experience of her startling prophetic "voice," the strange wailing that seems always to be ready to lift for her the curtain of Fate. "In 1922, just before the Irish Treaty was signed," she went on,"I awoke one night to hear the cry of the Banshee. Later, when I fell again into a restless sleep, I saw in a vivid dream a little party of men stepping off the Irish mail boat at Holyhead and being greeted by another party. In the midst of the disembarking party I saw Michael Collins. Now up to this time there had been no hint that any Irish leaders would come to London to arrange peace terms. Yet there it was - the signing of the Irish Treaty had been foretold to me by the Banshee."
The crying of her "familiar spirit" followed by another dream, made Mrs Driscoll certain that a terrible sea disaster would be enacted. Shortly afterwards came the news of the lossof the Thetis. "Twelve months before the Royal visit to Canada and the United States was decided on," she continued,"I dreamt that I saw the King and Queen shaking hands with President Roosevelt. I didn't know what to make of this, because I was aware that an English Sovereign had never visited the United States, and at that time it didn't seem at all likely that such a thing could happen. Yet in the end the tradition was broken. I was proved to be right!"
Can it be wondered at that Mrs Driscoll's description of her "Hitler warning" has created excitement and anticipation in the ranks of those who regard her as an oracle? She interprets this dream as an indication of the coming of a lasting peace in Europe. That the possibility of a London visit by the German leader is not such a remote possibility is borne out by this story which has just been published of Herr Hitler's reported proposal to come to London at the time of the September Crisis. "I don't quite know what to make of this dream," Mrs Driscoll said. "I can only hope that it may prove to be a good omen. Please don't make it appear that I am trying to make a reputation for myself as a 'prophetess'. I am merely telling you of some things that have happened to me, and of this curious dream, which was so clear that I felt I must mention it to my friends."
Ah well Mrs Driscoll, better luck next time. But it is quite unusual to interpret the Banshee as a good omen. That may be where you were going wrong.
In The People, Sunday 23rd July 1939.
"Fuehrer Coming to Britain"
Special to "The People": "I dreamed that I saw Herr Hitler entering the foreign office in Whitehall with Lord Halifax..."
These words, spoken by an Irishwoman living in Dollis Hill, London, have caused intense interest. Not only her friends, but hundreds of local people who know her reputation as a prophetess who has foretold world events with amazing accuracy, are taking seriously this account of a strange dream. Mrs Bridget Driscoll, a Belfast woman, the widow of a distinguished Irish Civil Servant, is to-day the central figure in a remarkable little drama.
Already she has intrigued and interested many people in her locality by her accounts of "Banshee" warnings followed by visions which have almost invariably foreshown events of international importance. Mrs Driscoll is a firm believer in the existence of that queer spirit known as the Banshee.
"Ever since I was a child, living with my parents on the outskirts of Belfast," she told me, "I have had implicit faith in these warnings. I have heard so many stories of how these unhappy spirits have foretold things, and how their predictions have been carried out to the very letter, that I have no doubt as to their genuineness."
The Banshee is the "domestic" spirit which is supposed to be continually watching over certain Irish or Highland Scottish families. This spirit is credited with taking an interest in each member of the family, and to wail immediately before a member of it passes away. The word is the old Irish, ben side, meaning a woman of the elves, or fairies.
The first public intimation of Mrs Driscoll's powers of prophecy was given about two years ago. In the Willesden church of which she is a member, grave anxiety was felt concerning the Rector, who was seriously ill. With her fellow-members of the congregation, Mrs. Driscoll was offering up prayers for the padre's recovery. "Then one night, in the silence of my room," she declared, "I was awakened by the plaintive, unmistakable wailing of the Banshee. I had not heard that sound since the night six years before when it echoed in my ears to fortell the passing of my beloved husband. He was ill, and he died two days later. This time, however, I had the feeling that something pleasant would follow the crying of the Banshee. I cannot tell you how or why this conviction impressed itself upon me, but it was there. And when I slept, after listening to that sad wailing, I dreamt that the Rector, Mr. Wadham, was completely restored to health. Next morning I told many of my friends about my experience. I added that I was certain that Mr. Wadham would recover. And this despite the fact that his doctor had said his case was hopeless. Sure enough, the next thing we heard was that Mr. Wadham had turned the corner. Three weeks from the date of my 'warning' he was well enough to get up and walk about."
Long before this occurrence, Mrs Driscoll had another experience of her startling prophetic "voice," the strange wailing that seems always to be ready to lift for her the curtain of Fate. "In 1922, just before the Irish Treaty was signed," she went on,"I awoke one night to hear the cry of the Banshee. Later, when I fell again into a restless sleep, I saw in a vivid dream a little party of men stepping off the Irish mail boat at Holyhead and being greeted by another party. In the midst of the disembarking party I saw Michael Collins. Now up to this time there had been no hint that any Irish leaders would come to London to arrange peace terms. Yet there it was - the signing of the Irish Treaty had been foretold to me by the Banshee."
The crying of her "familiar spirit" followed by another dream, made Mrs Driscoll certain that a terrible sea disaster would be enacted. Shortly afterwards came the news of the lossof the Thetis. "Twelve months before the Royal visit to Canada and the United States was decided on," she continued,"I dreamt that I saw the King and Queen shaking hands with President Roosevelt. I didn't know what to make of this, because I was aware that an English Sovereign had never visited the United States, and at that time it didn't seem at all likely that such a thing could happen. Yet in the end the tradition was broken. I was proved to be right!"
Can it be wondered at that Mrs Driscoll's description of her "Hitler warning" has created excitement and anticipation in the ranks of those who regard her as an oracle? She interprets this dream as an indication of the coming of a lasting peace in Europe. That the possibility of a London visit by the German leader is not such a remote possibility is borne out by this story which has just been published of Herr Hitler's reported proposal to come to London at the time of the September Crisis. "I don't quite know what to make of this dream," Mrs Driscoll said. "I can only hope that it may prove to be a good omen. Please don't make it appear that I am trying to make a reputation for myself as a 'prophetess'. I am merely telling you of some things that have happened to me, and of this curious dream, which was so clear that I felt I must mention it to my friends."
Ah well Mrs Driscoll, better luck next time. But it is quite unusual to interpret the Banshee as a good omen. That may be where you were going wrong.
In The People, Sunday 23rd July 1939.
Saturday, 17 June 2017
Ulster Folklore
Parents' Educational Union Lecture in Belfast.
"What this part of Ireland needs is a Sir Walter Scott to rescue our folklore and traditions before it is too late," said Mr. Geoffrey Garrod, M.A., headmaster of the Royal Belfast Academical Institution, presiding yesterday at a public meeting of the Northern Ireland branch of the Parents' National Educational Union, held in the Grand Central Hotel, Belfast.
He was expressing the sense of pleasure he had experienced in listening to a lecture on Ulster folklore delivered by Mr. E.J. McKean, KV, who dealt with his subject in a most able manner, describing the various spectres, banshees, and ghosts of ulster tradition, and touching also upon the believed influences of 'the evil eye,' or 'blinking' as it is still known in country districts.
Mr McKean said that Ulster folklore was very clear and definite in its outline. There were, for example, the well-known spectres of the "Gray Man," who haunted Fair Head, and "Button Cap" of Carrickfergus Castle, which appeared as an indication of trouble to come. Several of the banshees, the little, old women, believed to have red hair, and who were identified by their highly-pitched voice, were mentioned by the lecturer, particularly the banshee of Shane's Castle. This banshee occupied an attic of the castle, and the bed was made up for her daily, but, according to the legened, when the then Lord O'Neill decided to put the room to another use and to eject the banshee, the castle was destroyed by fire.
The stories of the ghost of James Haddock, Malone; the Beresfore ghost in County Tyrone, and Lord Castlereagh's "Radiant Boy" were also related by Mr. McKeen. Speaking of "blinking" and the counter-spell, he said they were mentioned quite recently in a court case at Dungannon.
Belfast News-Letter, 13th November 1931.
"What this part of Ireland needs is a Sir Walter Scott to rescue our folklore and traditions before it is too late," said Mr. Geoffrey Garrod, M.A., headmaster of the Royal Belfast Academical Institution, presiding yesterday at a public meeting of the Northern Ireland branch of the Parents' National Educational Union, held in the Grand Central Hotel, Belfast.
He was expressing the sense of pleasure he had experienced in listening to a lecture on Ulster folklore delivered by Mr. E.J. McKean, KV, who dealt with his subject in a most able manner, describing the various spectres, banshees, and ghosts of ulster tradition, and touching also upon the believed influences of 'the evil eye,' or 'blinking' as it is still known in country districts.
Mr McKean said that Ulster folklore was very clear and definite in its outline. There were, for example, the well-known spectres of the "Gray Man," who haunted Fair Head, and "Button Cap" of Carrickfergus Castle, which appeared as an indication of trouble to come. Several of the banshees, the little, old women, believed to have red hair, and who were identified by their highly-pitched voice, were mentioned by the lecturer, particularly the banshee of Shane's Castle. This banshee occupied an attic of the castle, and the bed was made up for her daily, but, according to the legened, when the then Lord O'Neill decided to put the room to another use and to eject the banshee, the castle was destroyed by fire.
The stories of the ghost of James Haddock, Malone; the Beresfore ghost in County Tyrone, and Lord Castlereagh's "Radiant Boy" were also related by Mr. McKeen. Speaking of "blinking" and the counter-spell, he said they were mentioned quite recently in a court case at Dungannon.
Belfast News-Letter, 13th November 1931.
Saturday, 18 March 2017
Saint Johnstown, County Donegal
There is a woman living near us called Maggie Mc Cready, who saw a banshee. This is how she told me the story.
"We were leevin' in St Johnston at the time this happened. Wan night just as darkness was falling, my father said he'd go oot and put in the cow."
"Before lang he came in again and told my mother and us that he wanted us oot tae see a thing. Out we went and what did we spy bit a wee woman sitting on our roof. She was wearing a wee red cloak and tammy-shanter.
"We stood looking up at her. She kept on saying "Och-och in a nee o." After a while she told us tal go intae the house and not tae be afraid.
"We went oot again tae see her bit she was awa'. We heard her crooning down at the fit of our garden. My fether told us not to be going down near her again because she was a ban-shee and might blow bad luck on us for following her.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
"We were leevin' in St Johnston at the time this happened. Wan night just as darkness was falling, my father said he'd go oot and put in the cow."
"Before lang he came in again and told my mother and us that he wanted us oot tae see a thing. Out we went and what did we spy bit a wee woman sitting on our roof. She was wearing a wee red cloak and tammy-shanter.
"We stood looking up at her. She kept on saying "Och-och in a nee o." After a while she told us tal go intae the house and not tae be afraid.
"We went oot again tae see her bit she was awa'. We heard her crooning down at the fit of our garden. My fether told us not to be going down near her again because she was a ban-shee and might blow bad luck on us for following her.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
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