_By Lady Gregory_
DRAMA
Seven Short Plays
Folk-History Plays, 2 vols.
New Comedies
The Image
The Golden Apple
Our Irish Theatre. A Chapter of Autobiography
IRISH FOLK LORE AND LEGEND
Visions and Beliefs, 2 vols.
Cuchulain of Muirthemne
Gods and Fighting Men
Saints and Wonders
Poets and Dreamers
The Kiltartan Poetry Book
[Illustration: Ballylee Castle
From a sepia drawing by Robert Gregory]
VISIONS AND BELIEFS IN
THE WEST OF IRELAND
COLLECTED AND ARRANGED BY
LADY GREGORY: WITH TWO ESSAYS
AND NOTES BY W.B. YEATS
"_There's no doubt at all but that there's the same
sort of things in other countries; but you hear
more about them in these parts because the Irish
do be more familiar in talking of them._"
_SECOND SERIES_
G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
=The Knickerbocker Press=
1920
COPYRIGHT, 1920
BY
LADY GREGORY
=The Knickerbocker Press, New York=
CONTENTS
PAGE
I.--HERBS, CHARMS, AND WISE WOMEN 3
II.--ASTRAY, AND TREASURE 29
III.--BANSHEES AND WARNINGS 45
IV.--IN THE WAY 65
V.--THE FIGHTING OF THE FRIENDS 77
VI.--THE UNQUIET DEAD 89
VII.--APPEARANCES 111
VIII.--BUTTER 189
IX.--THE FOOL OF THE FORTH 195
X.--FORTHS AND SHEOGUEY PLACES 205
XI.--BLACKSMITHS 239
XII.--MONSTERS AND SHEOGUEY BEASTS 245
XIII.--FRIARS AND PRIEST CURES 281
SWEDENBORG, MEDIUMS, AND THE DESOLATE PLACES 295
NOTES 343
I
HERBS, CHARMS, AND WISE WOMEN
I
HERBS, CHARMS, AND WISE WOMEN
_There is a saying in Irish, "An old woman without learning, it is
she will be doing charms"; and I have told in "Poets and Dreamers"
of old Bridget Ruane who came and gave me my first knowledge of the
healing power of certain plants, some it seemed having a natural and
some a mysterious power. And I said that she had "died last winter,
and we may be sure that among the green herbs that cover her grave
there are some that are good for every bone in the body and that are
very good for a sore heart."_
_As to the book she told me of that had come from the unseen and
was written in Irish, I think of Mrs. Sheridan's answer when I asked
in what language the strange unearthly people she had been among had
talked: "Irish of course--what else would they talk?" And I remember
also that when Blake told Crabb Robinson of the intercourse he had had
with Voltaire and was asked in what tongue Voltaire spoke he said, "To
my sensations it was English. It was like the touch of a musical key.
He touched it probably in French, but to my ear it became English."_
_I was told by her:_
There is a Saint at the Oratory in London, but I don't know his name,
and a girl heard of him in London, and he sent her back to Gort, and
he said, "There's a woman there that will cure you," and she came to
me, and I cured her in two days. And if you could find out the name
of that Saint through the Press, he'd tell me his remedies, and all
the world would be cured. For I can't do all cures though there are
a great many I can do. I cured Pat Carty when the doctor couldn't do
it, and a woman in Gort that was paralysed and her two sons that were
stretched. For I can bring back the dead with the same herbs our Lord
was brought back with--the _slanlus_ and the _garblus_. But there are
some things I can't do. I can't help anyone that has got a stroke
from the Queen or the Fool of the Forth.
I know a woman that saw the Queen one time, and she said she looked
like any Christian. I never heard of any that saw the Fool but one
woman that was walking near Gort, and she called out, "There's the
Fool of the Forth coming after me." So her friends that were with
her called out though they could see nothing, and I suppose he went
away at that for she got no harm. He was like a big strong man, and
half-naked--that's all she said about him.
It was my brother got the knowledge of cures from a book that was
thrown down before him on the road. What language was it written in?
What language would it be but Irish. Maybe it was God gave it to him,
and maybe it was the _other people_. He was a fine strong man, and
he weighed twenty-five stone--and he went to England, and then he
cured all the world, so that the doctors had no way of living. So one
time he got on a ship to go to America, and the doctors had bad men
engaged to shipwreck him out of the ship; he wasn't drowned but he
was broken to pieces on the rocks, and the book was lost along with
him. But he taught me a good deal out of it. So I know all herbs,
and I do a good many cures, and I have brought a great many children
home, home to the world--and never lost one, or one of the women that
bore them. I was never away myself, but I am a cousin of Saggarton,
and his uncle was away for twenty-one years.
* * * * *
This is _dwareen_ (knapweed) and what you have to do with this is to
put it down, with other herbs, and with a bit of threepenny sugar, and
to boil it and to drink it for pains in the bones, and don't be afraid
but it will cure you. Sure the Lord put it in the world for curing.
And this is _corn-corn_ (small aromatic tansy); it's very good for
the heart--boiled like the others.
This is _atair-talam_ (wild camomile), the father of all herbs--the
father of the ground. This is very hard to pull, and when you go for
it, you must have a black-handled knife.
And this is _camal-buide_ (loosestrife) that will keep all bad things
away.
This is _cuineul-Muire_ (mullein), the blessed candle of our Lady.
This is _fearaban_ (water buttercup) and it's good for every bone of
your body.
This is _dub-cosac_ (lichen), that's good for the heart, very good
for a sore heart. Here are the _slanlus_ (plantain) and the _garblus_
(dandelion) and these would cure the wide world, and it was these
brought our Lord from the Cross, after the ruffians that was with the
Jews did all the harm to Him. And not one could be got to pierce His
heart till a dark man came and said, "Give me the spear, and I'll
do it," and the blood that sprang out touched his eyes and they got
their sight.
And it was after that, His Mother and Mary and Joseph gathered their
herbs and cured His wounds. These are the best of the herbs, but they
are all good, and there isn't one among them but would cure seven
diseases. I'm all the days of my life gathering them, and I know them
all, but it isn't easy to make them out. Sunday evening is the best
time to get them, and I was never interfered with. Seven "Hail Marys"
I say when I'm gathering them, and I pray to our Lord and to St.
Joseph and St. Colman. And there may be _some_ watching me, but they
never meddled with me at all.
_Mrs. Quaid:_
Monday is a good day for pulling herbs, or Tuesday, not Sunday. A
Sunday cure is no cure. The _cosac_ (lichen) is good for the heart,
there was Mineog in Gort, one time his heart was wore to a silk
thread, and it cured him. The _slanugad_ (rib-grass) is very good,
and it will take away lumps. You must go down when it's growing on
the scraws, and pull it with three pulls, and mind would the wind
change when you are pulling it or your head will be gone. Warm it on
the tongs when you bring it and put it on the lump. The _lus-mor_
(mullein) is the only one that's good to bring back children that are
away. But what's better than that is to save what's in the craw of a
cock you'll kill on St. Martin's Eve and put it by and dry it, and
give it to the child that's away.
There's something in green flax I know, for my mother often told me
about one night she was spinning flax, before she was married and she
was up late. And a man of the faeries came in. She had no right to
be sitting up so late, they don't like that. And he told her to go
to bed, for he wanted to kill her, and he couldn't touch her while
she was handling the flax. And every time he'd tell her to go to bed,
she'd give him some answer, and she'd go on pulling a thread of the
flax, or mending a broken one, for she was wise, and she knew that at
the crowing of the cock he'd have to go. So at last the cock crowed,
and he was gone, and she was safe then, for the cock is blessed.
_Mrs. Ward:_
As to the _lus-mor_, whatever way the wind is blowing when you begin to
cut it, if it changes while you're cutting it, you'll lose your mind.
And if you're paid for cutting it, you can do it when you like, but if
not _they_ mightn't like it. I knew a woman was cutting it one time,
and a voice, an enchanted voice, called out, "Don't cut that if you're
not paid, or you'll be sorry." But if you put a bit of this with every
other herb you drink, you'll live for ever. My grandmother used to put
a bit with everything she took, and she lived to be over a hundred.
_An Old Man on the Beach:_
I wouldn't give into those things, but I'll tell you what happened
to a son of my own. He was as fine and as stout a boy as ever you
saw, and one day he was out with me, and a letter came and told of
the death of some one's child that was in America, and all the island
gathered to hear it read. And all the people were pressing to each
other there. And when we were coming home, he had a bit of a kippeen
in his hand, and getting over a wall he fell, and some way the
kippeen went in at his throat, where it had a sharp point and hurt
the palate of his mouth, and he got paralysed from the waist up.
There was a woman over in Spiddal, and my wife gave me no ease till I
went to her, and she gave me some herb for him. He got better after,
and there's no man in the island stronger and stouter than what he is
but he never got back the use of his left hand, but the strength he
has in the other hand is equal to what another man would have in two.
Did the woman in Spiddal say what gave him the touch? Oh well, she
said all sorts of things. But I wouldn't like to meddle too much with
such as her, for it's by witchcraft I believe it's done. There was a
woman of the same sort over in Roundstone, and I knew a man went to
her about his wife, and first she said the sickness had nothing to
do with _her_ business, but he said he came too far to bring back an
answer like that. So she went into a little room, and he heard her
call on the name of all the devils. So he cried out that that was
enough, and she came out then and made the sign of the Cross, but he
wouldn't stop in it.
But a priest told me that there was a woman in France used to cure
all the dumb that came to her, and that it was a great loss and a
great pity when she died.
_Mrs. Cloonan:_
I knew some could cure with herbs; but it's not right for any one
that doesn't understand them to be meddling with them. There was a
woman I knew one time wanted a certain herb I knew for a cure for her
daughter, and the only place that herb was to be had was down in the
bottom of a spring well. She was always asking me would I go and get
it for her, but I took advice, and I was advised not to do it. So
then she went herself and she got it out, a very green herb it was,
not watercress, but it had a bunch of green leaves. And so soon as
she brought it into the house, she fell as if dead and there she lay
for two hours. And not long after that she died, but she cured the
daughter, and it's well I didn't go to gather the herb, or it's on me
all the harm would have come.
I used to be gathering an herb one time for the Bishop that lived at
Loughmore, dandelion it was. There are two sorts, the white that has
no harm in it, that's what I used to be gathering, and the red that
has a _pishogue_ in it, but I left that alone.
_Old Heffernan:_
The best herb-doctor I ever knew was Conolly up at Ballyturn. He
knew every herb that grew in the earth. It was said that he was away
with the faeries one time, and when I knew him he had the two thumbs
turned in, and it was said that was the sign they left on him. I had
a lump on the thigh one time and my father went to him, and he gave
him an herb for it but he told him not to come into the house by the
door the wind would be blowing in at. They thought it was the evil
I had, that is given by _them_ by a touch, and that is why he said
about the wind, for if it was the evil, there would be a worm in it,
and if it smelled the herb that was brought in at the door, it might
change to another place. I don't know what the herb was, but I would
have been dead if I had it on another hour, it burned so much, and I
had to get the lump lanced after, for it wasn't the evil I had.
Conolly cured many a one. Jack Hall that fell into a pot of water
they were after boiling potatoes in, and had the skin scalded off him
and that Doctor Lynch could do nothing for, he cured.
He boiled down herbs with a bit of lard, and after that was rubbed on
three times, he was well.
And Pat Cahel that was deaf, he cured with the _rib-mas-seala_, that
herb in the potatoes that milk comes out of. His wife was against
him doing the cures, she thought that it would fall on herself. And
anyway, she died before him. But Connor at Oldtown gave up doing
cures, and his stock began to die, and he couldn't keep a pig, and
all he had wasted away till he began to do them again; and his son
does cures now, but I think it's more with charms than with herbs.
_John Phelan:_
The _bainne-bo-bliatain_ (wood anemone) is good for the headache, if
you put the leaves of it on your head. But as for the _lus-mor_ it's
best not to have anything to do with that.
_Mrs. West:_
Dandelion is good for the heart, and when Father Prendergast was curate
here, he had it rooted up in all the fields about, to drink it, and see
what a fine man he is. _Garblus_; how did you hear of that? That is the
herb for things that have to do with the faeries. And when you'd drink
it for anything of that sort, if it doesn't cure you, it will kill you
then and there. There was a fine young man I used to know and he got
his death on the head of a pig that came at himself and another man at
the gate of Ramore, and that never left them, but was at them all the
time till they came to a stream of water. And when he got home, he took
to his bed with a headache, and at last he was brought a drink of the
_garblus_ and no sooner did he drink it than he was dead. I remember
him well. Biddy Early didn't use herbs, but let people say what they
like, she was a sure woman. There is something in flax, for no priest
would anoint you without a bit of tow. And if a woman that was carrying
was to put a basket of green flax on her back, the child would go from
her, and if a mare that was in foal had a load of flax put on her, the
foal would go the same way.
_Mrs. Allen:_
I don't believe in faeries myself, I really don't. But all the people
in Kildare believe in them, and I'll tell you what I saw there one
time myself. There was a man had a splendid big white horse, and he
was leading him along the road, and a woman, a next-door neighbour,
got up on the wall and looked at him. And the horse fell down on his
knees and began to shiver, and you'd think buckets of water were
poured over him. And they led him home, but he was fit for nothing,
and everyone was sorry for the poor man, and him being worth ninety
pounds. And they sent to the Curragh and to every place for vets, but
not one could do anything at all. And at last they sent up in to the
mountains for a faery doctor, and he went into the stable and shut
the door, and whatever he did there no one knows, but when he came
out he said that the horse would get up on the ninth day, and be as
well as ever. And so he did sure enough, but whether he kept well, I
don't know, for the man that owned him sold him the first minute he
could. And they say that while the faery doctor was in the stable,
the woman came to ask what was he doing, and he called from inside,
"Keep her away, keep her away." And a priest had lodgings in the
house at the same time, and when the faery doctor saw him coming,
"Let me out of this," says he, and away with him as fast as he could.
And all this I saw happen, but whether the horse only got a chill or
not I don't know.
_James Mangan:_
My mother learned cures from an Ulster woman, for the Ulster women
are the best for cures; but I don't know the half of them, and what
I know I wouldn't like to be talking about or doing, unless it might
be for my own family. There's a cure she had for the yellow jaundice;
and it's a long way from Ennistymon to Creevagh, but I saw a man come
all that way to her, and he fainted when he sat down in the chair,
he was so far gone. But she gave him a drink of it, and he came in a
second time and she gave it again, and he didn't come a third time
for he didn't want it. But I don't mind if I tell you the cure and it
is this: take a bit of the dirt of a dog that has been eating bones
and meat, and put it on top of an oven till it's as fine as powder
and as white as flour, and then pound it up, and put it in a glass of
whiskey, in a bottle, and if a man is not too far gone with jaundice,
that will cure him.
There was one Carthy at Imlough did great cures with charms and his
son can do them yet. He uses no herbs, but he'll go down on his knees
and he'll say some words into a bit of unsalted butter, and what
words he says, no one knows. There was a big man I know had a sore
on his leg and the doctor couldn't cure him, and Doctor Moran said
a bit of the bone would have to come out. So at last he went to Jim
Carthy and he told him to bring him a bit of unsalted butter the next
Monday, or Thursday, or Saturday, for there's a difference in days.
And he would have to come three times, or if it was a bad case, he'd
have to come nine times.
But I think it was after the third time that he got well, and now he
is one of the head men in Persse's Distillery in Galway.
_A Slieve Echtge Woman:_
The wild parsnip is good for gravel, and for heartbeat there's nothing
so good as dandelion. There was a woman I knew used to boil it down,
and she'd throw out what was left on the grass. And there was a fleet
of turkeys about the house and they used to be picking it up. And at
Christmas they killed one of them, and when it was cut open they found
a new heart growing in it with the dint of the dandelion.
My father went one time to a woman at Ennis, not Biddy Early, but one
of her sort, to ask her about three sheep he had lost.
And she told him the very place they were brought to, a long path
through the stones near Kinvara. And there he found the skins, and he
heard that the man that brought them away had them sold to a butcher in
Loughrea. So he followed him there, and brought the police, and they
found him--a poor looking little man, but he had £60 within in his box.
There was another man up near Ballylee could tell these things too.
When Jack Fahy lost his wool, he went to him, and next morning there
were the fleeces at his door.
Those that are _away_ know these things. There was a brother of my
own took to it for seven years--and we at school. And no one could
beat him at the hurling and the games. But I wouldn't like to be
mixed with that myself.
* * * * *
There was one Moyra Colum was a great one for doing cures. She was
called one time to see some sick person, and the man that came for
her put her up behind him, on the horse. And some youngsters began
to be humbugging him, and humbugging is always bad. And there was a
young horse in the field where the youngsters were and it began to
gallop, and it fell over a stump and lay on the ground kicking as if
in a fit. And then Moyra Colum said, "Let me get down, for I have
pity for the horse." And she got down and went into the field, and
she picked a blade of a herb and put it to the horse's mouth and in
one minute it got up well.
Another time a woman had a sick cow and she sent her little boy to
Moyra Colum, and she gave him a bottle, and bade him put a drop of
what was in it in the cow's ear. And so he did and in a few minutes
he began to feel a great pain in his foot. So when the mother saw
that, she took the bottle and threw it out into the street and broke
it, and she said, "It's better to lose the cow than to lose my son."
And in the morning the cow was dead.
* * * * *
The herbs they cure with, there's some that's natural, and you could
pick them at all times of the day; there's a very good cure for
the yellow jaundice I have myself, and I offered it to a woman in
Ballygrah the other day, but some people are so taken up with pride
and with conceit they won't believe that to cure that sickness you
must take what comes from your own nature. She's dead since of it,
I hear. But I'll tell you the cure, the way you'll know it. If you
are attending a funeral, pick out a few little worms from the earth
that's thrown up out of the grave, few or many, twenty or thirty if
you like. And when you go home, boil them down in a sup of new milk
and let it get cold; and believe me, that will cure the sickness.
* * * * *
There's one woman I knew used to take a bit of tape when you'd go to
her, and she'd measure it over her thumb like this; and when she had
it measured she'd know what was the matter with you.
* * * * *
For some sicknesses they use herbs that have no natural cure, and
those must be gathered in the morning early. Before twelve o'clock?
No, but before sunrise. And there's a different charm to be said over
each one of them. It is for any sort of pain these are good, such as
a pain in the side. There's the _meena madar_, a nice little planteen
with a nice little blue flowereen above on it, that's used for a
running sore or an evil. And the charm to be said when you're picking
it has in it the name of some old curer or magician, and you can say
that into a bit of tow three times, and put it on the person to be
cured. That is a good charm. You might use that yourself if it was
any one close to you was sick, but for a stranger I'd recommend you
not do it. _They_ know all things and who are using it, and where's
the use of putting yourself in danger?
_James Mangan:_
My mother learned to do a great many cures from a woman from the
North (Note 1) and some I could do myself, but I wouldn't like to be
doing them unless for those that are nearest me; I don't want to be
putting myself in danger.
For a swelling in the throat it's an herb would be used, or for the
evil a poultice you'd make of herbs. But for a pain in the ribs or in
the head, it's a charm you should use, and to whisper it into a bit
of tow, and to put it on the mouth of whoever would have the pain,
and that would take it away. There's a herb called _rif_ in your own
garden is good for cures. And this is a good charm to say in Irish:
A quiet woman.
A rough man.
The Son of God.
The husk of the flax.
_The Old Man on the Beach:_
In the old times all could do _druith_--like free-masonry--and the
ground was all covered with the likeness of the devil; and with
_druith_ they could do anything, and could put the sea between you
and the road. There's only a few can do it now, but all that live in
the County Down can do it.
_Mrs. Quaid:_
There was a girl in a house near this was pining away, and a travelling
woman came to the house and she told the mother to bring the girl
across to the graveyard that's near the house before sunrise and to
pick some of the grass that's growing over the remains. And so she did,
and the girl got well. But the mother told me that when the woman had
told her that, she vanished away, all in a minute, and was seen no more.
* * * * *
I have a charm myself for the headache, I cured many with it. I used to
put on a ribbon from the back of the head over the mouth, and another
from the top of the head under the chin and then to press my hand on
it, and I'd give them great relief and I'd say the charm. But one time
I read in the Scriptures that the use of charms is forbidden, so I had
it on my conscience, and the next time I went to confession I asked
the priest was it any harm for me to use it, and I said it to him in
Irish. And in English it means "Charm of St. Peter, Charm of St. Paul,
an angel brought it from Rome. The similitude of Christ, suffering
death, and all suffering goes with Him and into the flax." And the
priest didn't say if I might use it or not, so I went on with it, for
I didn't like to turn away so many suffering people coming to me.
I know a charm a woman from the North gave to Tom Mangan's mother,
she used to cure ulcers with it and cancers. It was with unsalted
butter it was used, but I don't know what the words were.
_John Phelan:_
If you cut a hazel rod and bring it with you, and turn it round about
now and again, no bad thing can hurt you. And a cure can be made for
bad eyes from the ivy that grows on a white-thorn bush. I know a boy
had an ulcer on his eye and it was cured by that.
_Mrs. Creevy:_
There was Leary's son in Gort had bad eyes and no doctor could cure
him. And one night his mother had a dream that she got up and took
a half-blanket with her, and went away to a blessed well a little
outside Gort, and there she saw a woman dressed all in white, and she
gave her some of the water, and when she brought it to her son he got
well. So the next day she went there and got the water, and after
putting it three times on his eyes, he was as well as ever he was.
* * * * *
There was a woman here used to do cures with herbs--a midwife she
was. And if a man went for her in a hurry, and on a horse, and he'd
want her to get up behind him, she'd say, "No," that she was never
on horseback. But no matter how fast he'd go home, there she'd be
close after him.
* * * * *
There was a child was sick and it was known itself wasn't in it. And
a woman told the mother to go to a woman she told her of, and not to
say anything about the child but to say, "The calf is sick" and to
ask for a cure for it. So she did and the woman gave her some herb,
and she gave it to the child and it got well.
* * * * *
There was a man from Cuillean was telling me how two women came from
the County Down in his father's time, mother and daughter, and they
brought two spinning wheels with them, and they used to be in the
house spinning. But the milk went from the cow and they watched and
saw it was through charms. And then all the people brought turf and
made a big fire outside, and stripped the witch and the daughter to
burn them. And when they were brought out to be burned the woman
said, "Bring me out a bit of flax and I'll show you a pishogue." So
they brought out a bit of flax and she made two skeins of it, and
twisted it some way like that (interlacing his fingers) and she put
the two skeins round herself and the daughter, and began to twist it,
and it went up in the air round and round and the two women with it,
and the people all saw them going up, but they couldn't stop them.
The man's own father saw that himself.
* * * * *
There was a woman from the County Down was living up on that mountain
beyond one time, and there was a boy in the house next to mine that
had a pain in his heart, and was crying out with the pain of it. And
she came down, and I was in the house myself and I saw her fill the
bowl with oatenmeal, and she tied a cloth over it, and put it on the
hearth. And when she took it off, all the meal was gone out of one
side of the bowl, and she made a cake out of what was left on the
other side, and ate it. And the boy got well.
* * * * *
There was a woman in Clifden did many cures and knew everything. And
I knew two boys were sent to her one time, and they had a bottle of
poteen to bring her, but on the road they drank the poteen. But they
got her another bottle before they got to the house, but for all that
she knew well, and told them what they had done.
* * * * *
There's some families have a charm in them, and a man of those
families can do cures, just like King's blood used to cure the evil,
but they couldn't teach it to you or to me or another.
* * * * *
There's a very good charm to stop bleeding; it will stop it in a
minute when nothing else can, and there's one to take bones from the
neck, and one against ulcers.
_Kevin Ralph:_
I went to Macklin near Loughrea myself one time, when I had an ulcer
here in my neck. But when I got to him and asked for the charm, he
answered me in Irish, "The Soggarth said to me, any man that will use
charms to do cures with will be damned." I persuaded him to do it
after, but I never felt that it did me much good. Because he took no
care to do it well after the priest saying that of him. But there's
some will only let it be said in an outhouse if there's a cure to be
done in the house.
_A Woman in County Limerick:_
It is twenty year ago I got a pain in my side, that I could not
stoop; and I tried Siegel's Syrup and a plaster and a black blister
from the doctor, and every sort of thing and they did me no good.
And there came in a man one day, a farmer I knew, and he said, "It's
a fool you are not to go to a woman living within two miles of you
that would cure you--a woman that does charms." So I went to her nine
times, three days I should go and three stop away, and she would
pass her hand over me, and would make me hold on to the branch of
an apple tree up high, that I would hang from it, and she would be
swinging me as you would swing a child. And she laid me on the grass
and passed her hands over me, and what she said over me I don't know.
And at the end of the nine visits I was cured, and the pain left me.
At the time she died I wanted to go lay her out but my husband would
not let me go. He said if I was seen going in, the neighbours would
say she had left me her cures and would be calling me a witch. She
said it was from an old man she got the charm that used to be called
a wizard. My father knew him, and said he could bring away the wheat
and bring it back again, and that he could turn the four winds of
heaven to blow upon your house till they would knock it.
_A Munster Midwife:_
Is it true a part of the pain can be put on the man? It is to be sure,
but it would be the most pity in the world to do it; it is a thing I
never did, for the man would never be the better of it, and it would
not take any of the pain off the woman. And shouldn't we have pity upon
men, that have enough troubles of their own to go through?
_Mrs. Hollaran:_
Did I know the pain could be put on a man? Sure I seen my own mother
that was a midwife do it. He was such a Molly of an old man, and he
had no compassion at all on his wife. He was as if making out she had
no pain at all. So my mother gave her a drink, and with that he was
on the floor and around the floor crying and roaring. "The devil take
you," says he, and the pain upon him; but while he had it, it went
away from his wife. It did him no harm after, and my mother would
not have done it but for him being so covetous. He wanted to make out
that she wasn't sick.
_Mrs. Stephens:_
At childbirth there are some of the old women are able to put a part
of the pain upon the man, or any man. There was a woman in labour
near Oran, and there were two policemen out walking that night, and
one of them went into the house to light his pipe. There were two
or three women in it, and the sick woman stretched beyond them, and
one of them offered him a drink of the tea she had been using, and
he didn't want it but he took a drink of it, and then he took a coal
off the hearth and put it on his pipe to light it and went out to
his comrade. And no sooner was he there than he began to roar and to
catch hold of his belly and he fell down by the roadside roaring. But
the other knew something of what happened, and he took the pipe, and
it having a coal on it, and he put it on top of the wall and fired a
shot of the gun at it and broke it; and with that the man got well of
the pain and stood up again.
* * * * *
No woman that is carrying should go to the house where another woman
is in labour; if she does, that woman's pain will come on her along
with her own pain when her time comes.
* * * * *
A child to come with the spring tide, it will have luck.
II
ASTRAY, AND TREASURE
II
ASTRAY, AND TREASURE
_Mr. Yeats in his dedication of "The Shadowy Waters" says of some of
our woods:_
"_Dim Pairc-na-tarav where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal mild proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood that hides badger and fox
And martin-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Biddy Early called the wicked wood._"
_I have heard many stories of people led astray in these by invisible
power, though I myself, although born at midnight, have lived many
hours of many years in their shades and shelters, and as the saying
is have "never seen anything worse than myself."_
_Last May a friend staying with us had gone out early in the
afternoon, and had not come back by eight o'clock dinner-time. As
half-hours passed we grew anxious and sent out messengers riding and
on foot, searching with lanterns here and there in the woods and on
Inchy marsh, towards which he had been seen going. It was not till
long after the fall of darkness that he returned, tired out with so
many hours of wandering, and with no better explanation than "Yeats
talks of the seven woods of Coole, but I say there are seventy times
seven." It was in dim Inchy and the wicked wood it borders he had
gone astray; and many said that was natural, for they have a bad
name, and May is a month of danger. Yet some unbelievers may carry
their credulity so far as to believe that the creator of Father
Keegan's dreams may himself have dreamed the whole adventure._
_I was told by An Army Man who had been through the Indian Mutiny:_
It's only yesterday I was talking to a man about _the others_, and he
told me that the castle of Ballinamantane is a great place for them,
for it's there a great stand was made long ago in one of their last
fights. And one night he was making his way home, and only a field
between him and his house, when he found himself turned around and
brought to another field, and then to another--seven in all. And he
remembered the saying that you should turn your coat and that they'd
have no power over you, and he did so, but it did him no good. For
after that he was taken again, and found himself in the field over
beyond. And he had never a one drop taken, but was quite sober that
night.
What did they do it for? It might be that he had trespassed on one of
their ways; but it's most likely that there was some sort of a rogue
among them that turned and did it for sport.
_Mrs. Cloonan:_
The other evening I was milking the cow over in Inchy, and a
beggar-woman came by, with a sack of potatoes and such things on her
back. She makes her living selling ballads in Gort, and then begging
afterwards. So she sat down beside me, and she said "I don't like to
go on through the wood." So I asked did she ever see anything there.
"I did," says she, "three years ago, one night just where the old
house is the Dooleys used to live in. There came out of the end of it
a woman all in white, and she led me astray all the night, and drove
me that I had no time to turn my clothes--and my feet were black with
the blows she gave me, and though it was three years ago, I feel the
pain in them yet."
_Mrs. Coniffe_ says:
I was in Inchy the other day late, and I met an old beggarman, and
I asked him was he ever led astray there. And he said, "Not in this
wood, but in the wood beyond, Garryland. It was one night I was
passing through it, and met a great lot of them--laughing they were
and running about and drinking wine and wanting me to drink with
them. And they had cars with them, and an old woman sitting on a sort
of an ass-car. And I had a scapular round my neck, and I thought that
would make me independent, but it did not, for it was on the highroad
outside I found myself put at last."
_A Mason:_
My father was led astray one time, when he was coming home from a
neighbour's house, and he was led here and there till he didn't know
what way he was going. And then the moon began to shine out and he
saw his shadow, and another shadow along with it ten feet in length.
So with that he ran, and when he got to the wood of Cloon he fell
down in a faint.
* * * * *
And I was led astray one night, going across to a neighbour's
house--just the length of a field away, and where I could find my way
blindfolded. Into the ditch I was led, and to some other field, and I
put my hand to the ground, and it was potato ground, and the drills
made, but the seed not put in. And if it wasn't at last that I saw a
light from Scalp, it's away I'd have been brought altogether.
_John Rivers:_
Once I was led astray in that field and went round and round and
could find no way out--till at last I thought of the old Irish
fashion of turning my waistcoat, and did so. And then I got out the
gate in one minute.
* * * * *
And one night I was down at the widow Hayley's--I didn't go much
there--she used to have the place full of loafers, and they playing
cards. But this night I stopped a bit, and then I went out. And the
way I was put I could not say, but I found myself in the field with
an eight-foot wall behind me--and there I had to stop till some of
the men came and found me and brought me out.
_A Girl of the Feeneys:_
One time my brother when he was coming home late one evening was
put asleep in spite of himself, on the grass, at this corner
we're passing. None of the boys like to be coming home late, from
card-playing or the like, unless there's two or three of them
together. And if they go to a wake, they wouldn't for all the world
come home before the cock crows. There were many led astray in that
hollow beyond, where you see the haycocks. Old Tom Stafford was led
astray there by something like a flock of wool that went rolling
before him, and he had no power to turn but should follow it. Michael
Barrett saw the coach one time driving across Kiltartan bog, and it
was seen to many others besides.
As to Michael Barrett, I believe it's mostly in his own head they
are. But I know this that when he pulled down the chimney where he
said that the piper used to be sitting and playing, he lifted out
stones, and he an old man, that I could not have lifted myself when I
was young and healthy.
_A Clare Woman:_
As to treasure, there was a man here dreamt of some buried things--of
a skeleton and a crock of money. So he went to dig, but whether he
dreamed wrong or that he didn't wait for the third dream, I don't
know, but he found the skeleton, skull and all, but when he found
the crock there was nothing in it, but very large snail-shells. So
he threw them out in the grass, and next day when he went to look
at them they were all gone. Surely there's something that's watching
over that treasure under ground.
But it doesn't do to be always looking for money. There was Whaney the
miller, he was always wishing to dream of money like other people. And
so he did one night, that it was hid under the millstone. So before it
was hardly light he went and began to dig and dig, but he never found
the money, but he dug till the mill fell down on himself.
So when any one is covetous the old people say, "Take care would you
be like Whaney the miller."
* * * * *
Now I'll tell you a story that's all truth. There was a farmer man
living there beyond over the mountains, and one day a strange man
came in and asked a night's lodging. "Where do you come from?" says
the farmer. "From the county Mayo," says he, and he told how he had a
dream of a bush in this part of the world, and gave a description of
it, and in his dream he saw treasure buried under it. "Then go home,
my poor man," said the farmer, "for there's no such place as that
about here." So the man went back again to Mayo. But the bush was all
the time just at the back of the house, and when the stranger was
gone, the farmer began to dig, and there, sure enough, he found the
pot of gold, and took it for his own use.
But all the children he had turned silly after that; there was one
of them not long ago going about the town with long hair over his
shoulders.
And after that, a poor scholar, such as used to be going about in
those times, came to the house, and when he had sat down, the lid of
the pot the gold was found in was lying by the fire. And he took it
up and rubbed it, and there was writing on it, in Irish, that no one
had ever been able to read. And the poor scholar made it out, "This
side of the bush is no better than the other side." So he went out to
dig, and there he found another pot on the other side just the same
as the first pot and he brought it away with him, and what became of
him after is unknown.
_John Phelan:_
There was a man in Gort, Anthony Hynes, he and two others dreamed of
finding treasure within the church of Kilmacduagh. But when they got
there at night to dig, something kept them back, for there's always
something watching over where treasure is buried. I often heard
that long ago in the nursery at Coole, at the cross, a man that was
digging found a pot of gold. But just as he had the cover took off,
he saw old Richard Gregory coming, and he covered it up, and was
never able again to find the spot where it was.
But there's dreams and dreams. I heard of a man from Mayo went to
Limerick, and walked two or three times across the bridge there. And
a cobbler that was sitting on the bridge took notice of him, and
knew by the look of him and by the clothes he wore that he was from
Mayo, and asked him what was he looking for. And he said he had a
dream that under the bridge of Limerick he'd find treasure. "Well,"
says the cobbler, "I had a dream myself about finding treasure, but
in another sort of a place than this." And he described the place
where he dreamed it was, and where was that, but in the Mayo man's
own garden. So he went home again, and sure enough, there he found a
pot of gold with no end of riches in it. But I never heard that the
cobbler found anything under the bridge at Limerick.
* * * * *
I met a woman coming out one day from Cloon, and she told me that
when she was a young girl, she went out one day with another girl to
pick up sticks near a wood. And she chanced to lay hold on a tuft
of grass, and it came up in her hand and the sod with it. And there
was a hole underneath full of half-crowns, and she began to fill her
apron with them, and as soon as she had the full of her apron she
called to the other girl, and the minute she came there wasn't one to
be seen. But what she had in her apron she kept.
_A Travelling Man:_
There was a sister of mine, Bridget her name was, dreamed three
nights of treasure that was buried under the bush up there, by
the chapel, a mile to the east; you can see the bush there, blown
slantwise by the wind from the sea. So she got three men to go along
with her and they brought shovels to dig for it. But it was the woman
should have lifted the first sod and she didn't do it, and they saw,
coming down from the mountains of Burren, horses and horses, bearing
horse-soldiers on them, and they came around the bush, and the
soldiers held up their shovels, and my sister and the men that were
with her made away across the field.
The time I was in America, I went out to the country to see Tom
Scanlon, my cousin, that is a farmer there and had any amount of land
and feeding for the cows, and we went out of the house and sat down
on a patch of grass the same as we're sitting on now. And the first
word he said to me was, "Did Bridget, your sister, ever tell you of
the dream she had, and the way we went digging at the bush, for I was
one of the men that was along with her?" "She did often," says I.
"Well," says he, "all she told you about it was true."
* * * * *
There were two boys digging for razor fish near Clarenbridge, and
one of them saw, as he was digging, a great lot of gold. So he said
nothing, the way the other boy would know nothing about it. But when
he came back for it it was gone.
* * * * *
There was another boy found gold under a flagstone he lifted. But
when he went back next day to get it, all the strength he had
wouldn't lift the flag.
_The Army Man:_
There was a forth sometime or other there inside the gate, and one
Kelly told me that he was coming by it one night and saw all the hollow
spread with gold, and he had not the sense to take it up, but ran away.
* * * * *
A friend I had near Athenry had more sense. He saw the ground spread
with gold and he took up the full of his pockets and paid his rent next
day and prospered ever after, as everyone does that gets the faery gold.
* * * * *
Another man I knew of had a dream of a place where there was three
crocks of gold. And in the morning he went to dig and found the
crocks sure enough, and nothing in them but oyster shells. That was
because he went to dig after the first dream. He had a right to wait
till he had dreamed of it three times.
* * * * *
A girl the same way dreamt of gold hid in a rock and did not wait for
the third dream, but went at once, and all she found was the full of an
ass-cart near of sewing needles, and that was a queer thing to find in
a rock. No, they don't always hinder you, they help you now and again.
* * * * *
There was a working man used to be digging potatoes for me, and
whenever he was in want of money, he found it laid on his window-sill
in the night. But one day he had a drop of drink taken, he told
about it, and never a penny more did he find after that.
* * * * *
Sure, there's an old castle beyond Gort, Fiddane it's called, and
there you'd see the gold out bleaching, but no one would like to go
and take it. And my mother told me one time that a woman went up in
the field beyond where the liss is, to milk the cow, and there she
saw on the grass a crock full of gold. So she left the bit she had
for holding the cow beside it, and she ran back to the house for to
tell them all to come out and see it. But when they came the gold was
nowhere to be seen, but had vanished away. But in every part of the
field there was a bit of rope like the one she left beside the crock,
so that she couldn't know what spot it was in at all.
She had a right to have taken it, and told no one. They don't like to
have such things told.
_Mrs. Coniffe:_
That bush you took notice of, the boy told me that it is St.
Bridget's bush, and there is a great lot of money buried under it;
they know this from an old woman that used to be here a long time
ago. Three men went one time to dig for it and they dug and dug all
the day and found nothing and they went home and to bed. And in the
night whatever it was came to them, they never got the better of
it, but died within a week. And you'd be sorry to see--as the boy
did--the three coffins carried out of the three houses. And since
then no other person has ever gone to look for the money.
That's no wonder for you to know a faery bush. It grows a different
shape from a common one, and looks different someway.
* * * * *
As to hidden gold, I knew a man, Patrick Connell, dreamed he found it
beneath a bush. But he wasn't willing to go look for it, and his sons
and his friends were always at him to tell where it was, but he would
tell them nothing. But at last his sons one day persuaded him to go
with them and to dig for it. So they took their car, and they set
out. But when they came to a part of the road where there's a small
little ditch about a foot wide beside it, he was walking and he put
his foot in it and they had to bring him home, for his leg was broke.
So there was no more digging for treasure after that.
_A Neighbour:_
There's crocks of gold in all the forths, but there's cats and things
guarding them. And if any one does find the gold, he doesn't live
long afterwards. But sometimes you might see it and think that it was
only a heap of dung. It's best to leave such things alone.
III
BANSHEES AND WARNINGS
III
BANSHEES AND WARNINGS
"_Then Cuchulain went on his way, and Cathbad that had followed him
went with him. And presently they came to a ford, and there they
saw a young girl, thin and white-skinned and having yellow hair,
washing and ever washing, and wringing out clothing that was stained
crimson red, and she crying and keening all the time. 'Little Hound,'
said Cathbad, 'Do you see what it is that young girl is doing?
It is your red clothes she is washing, and crying as she washes,
because she knows you are going to your death against Maeve's great
army.'_"--"Cuchulain of Muirthemne."
* * * * *