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 Donegal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Donegal. 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
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.
Saint Johnstown, County Donegal
Long ago I heard the people saying that the Banshee like a child. The people do not like to hear the Banshee crying because it is a very frightful cry.
I often heard the people saying that there is a race of people that the Banshee follows when they are going to die.
Once upon a time i heard the people saying there was an old man, lived at Greenhill, and one night he was going to St. Johnston and he heard a great noise and at first he thought that it was a child crying.
He told the people and they went to hear the cry and there was a man there that heard the Banshee before and he siad that it was the Banshee. A few days after that the old man got sick and he soon died and he was one of the people that the Banshee followed.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
I often heard the people saying that there is a race of people that the Banshee follows when they are going to die.
Once upon a time i heard the people saying there was an old man, lived at Greenhill, and one night he was going to St. Johnston and he heard a great noise and at first he thought that it was a child crying.
He told the people and they went to hear the cry and there was a man there that heard the Banshee before and he siad that it was the Banshee. A few days after that the old man got sick and he soon died and he was one of the people that the Banshee followed.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Bridgetown, County Donegal
One night a man was coming from rambling. When he was coming up the railway, a banshee came out and followed him nearly till he was home. Soon after that one of his neighbours died. It is said that when people see a banshee some people near them die. It was Mr Dorrain that the banshee followed.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Ballinakillew, County Donegal
Mick Dogherty's wife was ill, but nobody thought she would die at that time. A man was going up the road past the house. He heard a noise. This noise was a great crying, unlike any thing he heard before. And he knew it was the crying of a banshee. This man went home and told his wife what he had heard. His wife went to see Mrs. Dogherty’s the next day, but when she got there Mrs. Dogherty was dead.
Mick Dogherty is alive in Ballinakillew to this day.
My uncle, Johnny Monaghan of Ballinakillew was passing the house when the banshee was crying, and it was he that told the story.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Mick Dogherty is alive in Ballinakillew to this day.
My uncle, Johnny Monaghan of Ballinakillew was passing the house when the banshee was crying, and it was he that told the story.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Sunday, 12 March 2017
Ardagh, County Donegal
In Rylands, Newtowncunningham, there once lived a family named Denn,
and, queer as it may seem to most of us, the wail of a been-sidhe was
always heard before the death of a member.
A clergyman thought this was all nonsense until he was called to the bedside of a dying Miss Dunn. Her friends sat around. He joined the company, and after a prayer, was very much surprised to hear in the distance, the wail, as of someone in distress. The others heard it too, and shortly afterwards the patient passed away.
From that time onwards the reverend gentleman often told the above story, remarking that "there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
A clergyman thought this was all nonsense until he was called to the bedside of a dying Miss Dunn. Her friends sat around. He joined the company, and after a prayer, was very much surprised to hear in the distance, the wail, as of someone in distress. The others heard it too, and shortly afterwards the patient passed away.
From that time onwards the reverend gentleman often told the above story, remarking that "there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
Tawny, County Donegal
Stoks[?] of folk the Banshee follows. It is a spirit. It follows folks Death.
Gallaghers of Glenfanad: for about a month or two before they die.Campbells of Loughlane: It follows their death for about three or four weeks before they die. It cries about the fields near hand the people who are for Death.It follows the McAteers of Kilmacreannan. It follows their Death for about a month or two before they die.It follows the MCooches of Kerrykeel for nearly six weeks before the Die. Up there the Banshee calls in a field far away from the house.It follows the Davises of Rathgorey for about two months before the Die. It goes very near hand them.It follows the McElwaines of Roskirk for a few days before they die. It stays on the top of a Ditch near hand the house. It follows the Gallaghers of Kilmacrannan for about six days before they die, they says it stays about the street near daybreak.
The bannshee cried for old Johnie Blaney of Ballykinard. One night Mrs Blaney and Miss Kelly and Bridget Blaney of the Ross were coming along the road at the Ross lane beside Blaney's garden. They hear three terrible lonely cries, they ran home the whole road that night, they nearly fainted. It was about four or five nights before Johnie Blaney died.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Gallaghers of Glenfanad: for about a month or two before they die.Campbells of Loughlane: It follows their death for about three or four weeks before they die. It cries about the fields near hand the people who are for Death.It follows the McAteers of Kilmacreannan. It follows their Death for about a month or two before they die.It follows the MCooches of Kerrykeel for nearly six weeks before the Die. Up there the Banshee calls in a field far away from the house.It follows the Davises of Rathgorey for about two months before the Die. It goes very near hand them.It follows the McElwaines of Roskirk for a few days before they die. It stays on the top of a Ditch near hand the house. It follows the Gallaghers of Kilmacrannan for about six days before they die, they says it stays about the street near daybreak.
The bannshee cried for old Johnie Blaney of Ballykinard. One night Mrs Blaney and Miss Kelly and Bridget Blaney of the Ross were coming along the road at the Ross lane beside Blaney's garden. They hear three terrible lonely cries, they ran home the whole road that night, they nearly fainted. It was about four or five nights before Johnie Blaney died.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Ballymunterhiggin, County Donegal
There are two fairy forts situated in the townland of Drumachrin. They are in view of each other. They are both circular in shape and around each is a fence of clay. There is an entrance hole at the side of each. One of these forts belongs to John O'Reilly. The story is told that in olden times one of this man's ancestors was passing the fort, on a moonlit night. He saw, as he thought, a crowd of ladies on horseback galloping round the fort, each one saying "and a steed for me, and a steed for me." This man entered the fort and said too "and a steed for me and a steed for me." With that he was mounted on a horse and was taken away by the fairies, and was never heard of afterwards.
People say that these forts were used as hiding places for soldiers during the time of the Danish invasion. The Bean Sidhe is still heard in one of these forts. People never interfere with these forts either to cultivate them or to cut trees or bushes on them. Through the country there are "lone bushes" or "lone trees". One never touches them. If they are cut they are supposed to bleed.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
People say that these forts were used as hiding places for soldiers during the time of the Danish invasion. The Bean Sidhe is still heard in one of these forts. People never interfere with these forts either to cultivate them or to cut trees or bushes on them. Through the country there are "lone bushes" or "lone trees". One never touches them. If they are cut they are supposed to bleed.
From the National Folklore Collection, UCD.
Tievebrack, County Donegal
McGowan's Bean Sidhe.
1. In the battle of life with its woes and depressions,
I withstood the cares and sorrows of the day,
The agony of parting with friends and relations
When they sailed in the ships to the lands far away
But there is a sorrow deep down in my heart
That always can bring a sad memory to me
Of the day I was forced from my Noreen to part
And I heard the sad wail of McGowan’s Bean Sidhe.
2. By the little white cot at the end of the boreen
The moon shed her silvery light o’er the lea;
I stood by the gate and was talking to Noreen
The night that I heard the McGowan’s Bean Sidhe
3. With a laugh like the song of the lark in the morning
My Noreen was blithe and as brisk as a bee,
The auburn ringlets her white brow adorning,
Her eyes spoke of love as she whispered to me.
I was glad that she loved me, and proud I had won her
And I was as happy, as happy could be
Ah! little I knew of the call that was on her
The night that I heard the McGowan’s Bean Sidhe
4. And when they brought me the news the next morning
My Noreen had gone to the angels above.
‘Twas then that I full understood the dread warning
And sorely I wept o’er the loss of my love
All night had I dreamed of the weeping and wailing
Awake, I would wonder for whom it could be
And whilst I’d been dreaming, grim death had been stealing
In the blossom of life my sweet coleen from me.
From the National Folklore Collection UCD.
1. In the battle of life with its woes and depressions,
I withstood the cares and sorrows of the day,
The agony of parting with friends and relations
When they sailed in the ships to the lands far away
But there is a sorrow deep down in my heart
That always can bring a sad memory to me
Of the day I was forced from my Noreen to part
And I heard the sad wail of McGowan’s Bean Sidhe.
2. By the little white cot at the end of the boreen
The moon shed her silvery light o’er the lea;
I stood by the gate and was talking to Noreen
The night that I heard the McGowan’s Bean Sidhe
3. With a laugh like the song of the lark in the morning
My Noreen was blithe and as brisk as a bee,
The auburn ringlets her white brow adorning,
Her eyes spoke of love as she whispered to me.
I was glad that she loved me, and proud I had won her
And I was as happy, as happy could be
Ah! little I knew of the call that was on her
The night that I heard the McGowan’s Bean Sidhe
4. And when they brought me the news the next morning
My Noreen had gone to the angels above.
‘Twas then that I full understood the dread warning
And sorely I wept o’er the loss of my love
All night had I dreamed of the weeping and wailing
Awake, I would wonder for whom it could be
And whilst I’d been dreaming, grim death had been stealing
In the blossom of life my sweet coleen from me.
From the National Folklore Collection UCD.
Pettigo, County Donegal
My Uncle was living in
Main St, beside Mr Flood's. He was raised by the cries of a bean-sidhe about three o'clock in the
morning. It was crying like a baby up and down the street. It was
supposed to be a fairy woman with a red jacket.
From the National Folklore Collection.
From the National Folklore Collection.
Pettigo, County Donegal
Once upon a time a bean-sidhe cried for a person who was going to die.
It came in to the house and went down to the bed where she was lying and
cried for her death. It happened at the Rookers. It is supposed to be a
little baby who cries for certain peoples deaths.
From the National Folklore Collection.
From the National Folklore Collection.
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