The Well of St. Brendan, in High Island, has great virtue, but the
miraculous power of the water is lost should a thief or a murderer
drink of it. Now a cruel murder had been committed on the mainland, and
the priest noticed the people that if the murderer tried to conceal
himself in the island no one should harbour him or give him food
or drink. It happened at that time there was a woman of the island
afflicted with pains in her limbs, and she went to the Holy Well to
make the stations and say the prayers, and so get cured. But many a day
passed and still she got no better, though she went round and round the
well on her knees, and recited the paters and aves as she was told.
Then she went to the priest and told him the story, and he perceived
at once that the well had been polluted by the touch of some one who
had committed a crime. So he bade the woman bring him a bottle of the
water, and she did as he desired. Then having received the water,
he poured it out, and breathed on it three times in the name of the
Trinity; when, lo! the water turned into blood.
“Here is the evil,” cried the priest. “A murderer has washed his hands
in the well.”
He then ordered her to make a fire in a circle, which she did, and he
pronounced some words over it; and a mist rose up with the form of a
spirit in the midst, holding a man by the arm.
“Behold the murderer,” said the spirit; and when the woman looked on
him she shrieked—
“It is my son! my son!” and she fainted.
For the year before her son had gone to live on the mainland, and
there, unknown to his mother, he had committed the dreadful murder for
which the vengeance of God lay on him. And when she came to herself the
spirit of the murderer was still there.
“Oh, my Lord! let him go, let him go!” she cried.
“You wretched woman!” answered the priest. “How dare you interpose
between God and vengeance. This is but the shadowy form of your son;
but before night he shall be in the hands of the law, and justice shall
be done.”
Then the forms and the mist melted away, and the woman departed in
tears, and not long after she died of a broken heart. But the well
from that time regained all its miraculous powers, and the fame of its
cures spread far and wide through all the islands.
LEGENDS OF INNIS-SARK.
A WOMAN’S CURSE.
There was a woman of the Island of Innis-Sark who was determined to
take revenge on a man because he called her by an evil name. So she
went to the Saints’ Well, and, kneeling down, she took some of the
water and poured it on the ground in the name of the devil, saying,
“So may my enemy be poured out like water, and lie helpless on the
earth!” Then she went round the well backwards on her knees, and at
each station she cast a stone in the name of the devil, and said, “So
may the curse fall on him, and the power of the devil crush him!” After
this she returned home.
Now the next morning there was a stiff breeze, and some of the men were
afraid to go out fishing; but others said they would try their luck,
and amongst them was the man on whom the curse rested. But they had not
gone far from land when the boat was capsized by a heavy squall. The
fishermen, however, saved themselves by swimming to shore; all except
the man on whom the curse rested, and he sank like lead to the bottom,
and the waves covered him, and he was drowned.
When the woman heard of the fate that had befallen her enemy, she ran
to the beach and clapped her hands with joy and exulted. And as she
stood there laughing with strange and horrid mirth, the corpse of the
man she had cursed slowly rose up from the sea, and came drifting
towards her till it lay almost at her very feet. On this she stooped
down to feast her eyes on the sight of the dead man, when suddenly a
storm of wind screamed past her, and hurled her from the point of rock
where she stood. And when the people ran in all haste to help, no trace
of her body could be seen. The woman and the corpse of the man she had
cursed disappeared together under the waves, and were never seen again
from that time forth.
* * * * *
Another woman in Shark Island was considered to have an evil influence
over any one she disliked. One day a man called her a devil’s hag in
his anger. The woman answered nothing, but that night she went to a
Holy Well near the place, and kneeling down, invoked a curse in the
name of the devil. Then she went round the well three times backward
on her knees, and each time threw a stone in the name of the devil,
saying, “So may the curse fall on his head!” Then she returned home,
and told the people to wait for three days, and they would see her
words had power. During this time the man was afraid to go out in his
boat because of the curse. But on the third day as he was walking by
the cliff he fell and broke his leg. And then every one knew that the
woman had the witch-secret of evil, and she was held in much fear.
* * * * *
The most effective way of neutralizing the evil influence is to spit
on the object and say, “God bless it!” But another must do it at your
request, and sometimes people refuse, fearing to anger the fairies
by interfering with their work, whether for good or evil. But the
islanders have such faith in the anointing with spittle that they will
often solicit a passing stranger to spit on the afflicted person.
Indeed, a stranger is considered to have more power than a neighbour.
A woman who kept a small day-school had reason to think that her son, a
fine lad of twelve years old, was bewitched, for when he had eaten up
the whole dish of stirabout at supper, he asked for more. And she said—
“My son, you had enough for three men. Go to your bed and sleep.”
But next morning he was worse and more ravenous, for he ate up all
the bread that his mother had made for the scholars just as she took
it from the oven, and not a single cake was left. Then she knew that
witchcraft was on the boy, and she stood by the door to watch for a
stranger. At last one came by, and she cried to him—
“Come in, come in, for the love of God, and spit on the face of my son!”
“Why should I spit on your son, O woman?” he answered; and he fled
away, for he thought she was mad.
Then she sent for the priest, and his reverence poured holy water over
him, and laid his hands upon his head while he prayed. So, after a
time, the power of the witchcraft was broken, and the boy was restored
to his right mind.
* * * * *
The islanders believe also that angels are constantly present amongst
them, and all blessed things—the rain, and the dew, and the green
crops—come from their power; but the fairies often bring sickness,
and will do malicious tricks, and lame a horse, or steal the milk and
butter, if they have been offended or deprived of their rights.
There are certain days on which it is not right to speak of the
fairies. These days are Wednesdays and Fridays, for then they are
present though invisible, and can hear everything, and lay their plans
as to what they will carry off. On Friday especially their power for
evil is very strong, and misfortunes are dreaded in the household.
Therefore, on that day the children and cattle are strictly watched; a
lighted wisp of straw is turned round the baby’s head, and a quenched
coal is set under the cradle and under the churn. And if the horses
are restive in the stable, then the people know the fairies are riding
on their backs. So they spit three times at the animal, when the
fairies scamper off. This cure by the saliva is the most ancient of all
superstitions, and the islanders still have the greatest faith in its
mysterious power and efficacy.
* * * * *
At Innisboffin the fairies hold a splendid court, with revelry and
dancing, when the moon is full; and it is very dangerous for young
girls to be out at that time, for they will assuredly be carried off.
And if they once hear the fairy music or drink of the fairy wine, they
will never be the same again—a fate is on them, and before the year is
out they will either disappear or die.
And the fairies are always on the watch for the handsome girls or
children; for they look on mortals as of much higher race than
themselves. And they are also glad to have the fine young men, the sons
of mortal women, to assist them in their wars with each other; for
there are two parties amongst the fairy spirits, one a gentle race that
loves music and dancing, the other that has obtained power from the
devil, and is always trying to work evil.
A young man lay down to sleep one Friday evening in summer under a
hay-rick, and the fairies must have carried him off as he slept; for
when he woke he found himself in a great hall, where a number of little
men were at work—some spinning, some making shoes, some making spears
and arrow-heads out of fish-bones and elf-stones; but all busy laughing
and singing with much glee and merriment, while the little pipers
played the merriest tunes.
Then an old man who sat in the corner came over, and looking very
angry, told him he must not sit there idle; there were friends coming
to dinner, and he must go down and help in the kitchen. So he drove the
poor young fellow before him down into a great vaulted place, where a
huge fire was burning, and a large pot was set over it.
“Now,” said the old man, “prepare the dinner. There is the old hag we
are going to eat.”
And true enough, to his horror, on looking round, there was an old
woman hung up by the arms, and an old man skinning her.
“Now make haste and let the water boil,” said the old man; “don’t you
see the pot on the fire, and I am nearly ready for you to begin. The
company will soon be here, and there is no time to lose, for this old
hag will take a good while to boil. Cut her up into little bits, and
throw her into the pot.”
However, the young fellow was so frightened that he fell down on the
floor speechless, and could neither move hand nor foot.
“Get up, you fool,” said another old man, who seemed to be the head
over all; and he laughed at him. “Do your work and never mind; this
does not hurt her a bit. When she was there above in the world she
was a wicked miser, hard to the world, and cruel and bitter in her
words and works; so now we have her here, and her soul will never rest
in peace, because we shall cut up the body in little bits, and the
soul will not be able to find it, but wander about in the dark to all
eternity without a body.”
Then the young man knew no more till he found himself in a beautiful
hall, where a banquet was laid out; but, in place of the old hag, the
table was covered with fruit, and chickens, and young turkeys, and
butter, and cakes fresh from the oven, and crystal cups of bright red
wine.
“Now sit down and eat,” said the prince, who sat at the top on a
throne, with a red sash round his waist, and a gold band on his head.
“Sit down with this pleasant company and eat with us; you are welcome.”
And there were many beautiful ladies seated round, and grand noblemen,
with red caps and sashes; and they all smiled at him and bade him eat.
“No,” said the young man; “I cannot eat with you, for I see no priest
here to bless the food. Let me go in peace.”
“Not at least till you taste our wine,” said the prince with a friendly
smile.
And one of the beautiful ladies rose up and filled a crystal cup with
the bright red wine, and gave it him. And when he saw it, the sight of
it tempted him, and he could not help himself, but drank it all off
without stopping; for it seemed to him the most delicious draught he
ever had in his whole life.
But no sooner had he laid down the glass, than a noise like thunder
shook the building, and all the lights went out; and he found himself
alone in the dark night lying under the very same hay-rick where he had
cast himself down to sleep, tired after his work. So he made his way
home at last; but the taste of the fairy wine burned in his veins, and
a fever was on him night and day for another draught; and he did no
good, but pined away, seeking the fairy mansion, though he never found
it any more. And so he died in his youth, a warning to all who eat of
the fairy food, or drink of the fairy wine; for never more will they
know peace or content, or be fit for their work, as in the days before
the fairy spell was on them, which brings doom and death to all who
fall under the fatal enchantment of its unholy power.