MY OWN EXPERIENCES WITH THE BANSHEE
In order definitely to establish my claim to the Banshee, I am obliged to
state here that the family to which I belong is the oldest branch of the
O'Donnells, and dates back in direct unbroken line to Niall of the Nine
Hostages. I am therefore genuinely Celtic Irish, but, in addition to that,
I have in my veins strains both of the blood of the O'Briens of Thomond
(whose Banshee visited Lady Fanshawe), and of the O'Rourkes, Princes of
Brefni; for my ancestor, Edmund O'Donnell, married Bridget, daughter of
O'Rourk of the house of Brefni, and his mother was the daughter of Donat
O'Brien of the house of Thomond. All of which, and more, may be
ascertained by a reference to the Records of the Truagh O'Donnells.[15]
Possibly my first experience of the Banshee occurred before I was old
enough to take note of it. I lost my father when I was a baby. He left
home with the intention of going on a brief visit to Palestine, but,
meeting on the way an ex-officer of the Anglo-Indian army, who had been
engaged by the King of Abyssinia to help in the work of remodelling the
Abyssinian army, he abandoned his idea of visiting the Holy Land, and
decided to go to Abyssinia instead.
What actually happened then will probably never be known. His death was
reported to have taken place at Arkiko, a small village some two hours
walking distance from Massowah, and from the letters[16] subsequently
received from the French Consul at Massowah and several other people, as
well as from the entries in his diary (the latter being recovered with
other of his personal effects and sent home with them), there seems to
have been little, if any, doubt that he was trapped and murdered, the
object being robbery.
The case created quite a sensation at the time, and is referred to in a
work entitled "The Oriental Zig-zag," by Charles Hamilton, who, I believe,
stayed some few years later at the house at Massowah, where my father
lodged, and was stated to have shared his fate.
With regard to the supernatural happenings in connection with the event.
The house that my father had occupied before setting out for the East was
semi-detached, the first house in a row, which at that time was not
completed. It was situated in a distinctly lonely spot. On the one side of
it, and to the rear, were gardens, bounded by fields, and people rarely
visited the place after nightfall.
On the night preceding my father's death, my mother was sitting in the
dining-room, which overlooked the back garden, reading. It was a windy but
fine night, and, save for the rustling of the leaves, and an occasional
creaking of the shutters, absolutely still. Suddenly, from apparently just
under the window, there rang out a series of the most harrowing screams.
Immeasurably startled, and fearing, at first, that it was some woman being
murdered in the garden, my mother summoned the servants, and they all
listened. The sounds went on, every moment increasing in vehemence, and
there was an intensity and eeriness about them that speedily convinced the
hearers that they could be due to no earthly agency. After lasting several
minutes they finally died away in a long, protracted wail, full of such
agony and despair, that my mother and her companions were distressed
beyond words.
As soon as they could summon up the courage they went out and scoured the
gardens, but though they looked everywhere, and there was little cover for
anyone to hide, they could discover nothing that could in any way account
for the noises. A dreadful fear then seized my mother. She believed that
she had heard the Banshee which my father had often spoken about to her,
and she was little surprised, when, in a few days time, the news reached
her that my father was dead. He had died about dawn, the day after my
mother and the servants had heard the screaming. I sent an account of the
incident, together with other phenomena that happened about the same time,
signed by two of the people who experienced them, to the Society for
Psychical Research, who published it in their journal in the autumn of
1899.
I have vivid recollections of my mother telling me about it when I was a
little boy, and I remember that every time I heard the shutters in the
room where we sat rattle, and the wind moan and sigh in the chimney, I
fully expected to hear terrible shrieks ring out, and to see some white
and ghastly face pressed against the window-panes, peering in at me. After
these recitations I was terrified at the darkness, and endured, when
alone in my bedroom, agonies of mind that no grown-up person, perhaps,
could ever realise. The house and garden, so very bright and cheerful, and
in every way ordinary, in the daytime, when the sun was out, seemed to be
entirely metamorphosed directly it was dusk. Shadows assuredly stranger
than any other shadows--for as far as I could see they had no material
counterpart--used to congregate on the stairs, and darken the paths and
lawn.
There were always certain spots that frightened me more than others, a
bend in one of the staircases, for example, the banisters on the top
landing, a passage in the basement of the house, and the path leading from
the gate to the front door. Even in the daytime, occasionally, I was chary
about passing these places. I felt by instinct something uncanny was
there; something that was grotesque and sinister, and which had specially
malevolent designs toward me. When I was alone I hurried past, often with
my eyes shut; and at night time, I am not ashamed to admit, I often ran.
Yet, at that time I had no knowledge that others beside myself thought
these things and had these experiences. I did not know, for instance, that
once, when my youngest sister, who was a little older than I, was passing
along that passage I so much dreaded, she heard, close beside her, a
short, sharp laugh, or chuckle, and so expressive of hatred and derision,
that the sound of it haunted her memory ever after. I also did not know
then that one evening, immediately prior to my father's death, when
another of my sisters was running up the stairs, she saw, peering down at
her from over the banisters on that top landing I so much dreaded, a face
which literally froze her with horror. Crowned with a mass of disordered
tow-coloured hair, the skin tightly drawn over the bones like a mummy, it
looked as if it had been buried for several months and then resurrected.
The light, obliquely set eyes, suffused with baleful glee, stared straight
at her, while the mouth, just such a mouth as might have made that
chuckle, leered. It did not seem to her to be the face of anyone that had
ever lived, but to belong to an entirely different species, and to be the
creation of something wholly evil. She looked at it for some seconds, too
petrified to move or cry out, until, her faculties gradually reassuring
themselves, she turned round from the spot and flew downstairs.
Some years later, just before the death of my mother, at about the same
time of day and in precisely the same place, the head was again seen,
this time by my younger sister, the one who had heard the ghostly chuckle.
I think, without doubt, that the chuckle, no less than the head, must be
attributed to the malignant Banshee. I may add, perhaps, without
digressing too much, that supernatural happenings, apart from the Banshee,
were associated with both my parents' deaths. On the night following my
father's murder, and on every subsequent night for a period of six weeks,
my mother and the servants were aroused regularly at twelve o'clock by a
sound, as of someone hammering down the lids of packing-cases, issuing
from the room in the basement of the house, which my father had always
used as a study. They then heard footsteps ascending the stairs and
pausing outside each bedroom in turn, which they all recognised as my
father's, and, occasionally, my old nurse used to see the door of the
night nursery open, and a light, like the light of a candle outside,
whilst at the same time she would hear, proceeding from the landing, a
quick jabber, jabber, jabber, as of someone talking very fast, and trying
very hard to say something intelligible. No one was ever seen when this
voice and the footsteps, said to be my father's, were heard, but this
circumstance may be accounted for by the fact that my father, just before
leaving Ireland, had remarked to my mother that, should anything happen
to him abroad, he would in his spirit appear to her; and she, growing pale
at the mere thought, begged him to do no such thing, whereupon he had
laughingly replied:
"Very well then, I will find some other means of communicating with you."
Many manifestations of a similar nature to the foregoing, and also, like
the foregoing, having nothing to do with the Banshee, occurred immediately
after the death of my mother, but of these I must give an account on some
future occasion.
Years passed, and nothing more was seen or heard of the Banshee till I was
grown up. After leaving school I went to Dublin to read with Dr Chetwode
Crawley, in Ely Place, for the Royal Irish Constabulary, and I might, I
think, have passed into that Force, had it not been for the fact that at
the preliminary medical examination some never-to-be-forgotten and, as I
thought then, intensely ill-natured doctor, rejected me. Accordingly, I
never entered for the literary, but returned home thoroughly dispirited,
and faced with the urgent necessity of at once looking around for
something to do. However, in a very short time I had practically settled
on going to America to a ranch out West (a most disastrous venture as it
subsequently proved to be), and it was immediately after I had reached
this decision that my first actual experience with what I believe to have
been the malevolent family Banshee occurred. It happened in the same house
in which the other supernatural occurrences had taken place. All the
family, saving myself, were away at the time, and I was the sole occupant
of one of the landings, the servants being all together on another floor.
I had gone to bed early, and had been sleeping for some time, when I was
awakened about two o'clock by a loud noise, for which I could not account,
and which reverberated in my ears for fully half a minute. I was sitting
up, still wondering what on earth could have produced it, when,
immediately over my head, I heard a laugh, an abrupt kind of chuckle, that
was so malicious and evil that I could not possibly attribute it to any
human agency, but rather to some entity of wholly satanic origin, and
which my instinct told me was one of our attendant Banshees. I got out of
bed, struck a light, and made a thorough investigation, not only of the
room, but the landing outside. There was no one there, nothing, as far as
I could see, that could in any way explain the occurrence. I threw open
the bedroom window and looked out. The night was beautiful--the sky
brilliantly illuminated with moon and stars--and everything perfectly
still, excepting for the very faintest rustling of the leaves as the soft
night breeze swept through the branches and set them in motion. I listened
for some time, but, the hush continuing, I at last got back again into
bed, and eventually fell asleep. I mentioned the incident in the morning
to the servants, and they, too, had heard it.
A short time afterwards I went to the United States, and had the most
unhappy and calamitous experience in my whole career.
My next experience of the Banshee happened two or three years later, when,
having returned from America, I was living in Cornwall, running a small
preparatory school, principally for delicate boys.
The house I occupied was quite new, in fact I was the first tenant, and
had watched it being built. It was the last house in a terrace, and facing
it was a cliff, at the foot of which ran a steep path leading to the
beach. At this particular time there was no one in the house but my aged
housekeeper, by name Mrs Bolitho, and myself, and whilst Mrs Bolitho slept
in a room on the first floor, I was the sole occupant of the floor
immediately above it.
One night I had been sitting up writing, rather later than usual, and,
being very tired, had dropped off to sleep, almost immediately after
getting into bed. I woke about two o'clock hearing a curious kind of
tapping noise coming along the passage that ran parallel with my bed.
Wondering what it could be, I sat up and listened. There were only bare
boards outside, and the noise was very clear and resonant, but difficult
to analyse. It might have been produced by the very high heels of a lady's
boot or shoe, or the bony foot of a skeleton. I could compare it with
nothing else. On it came, tap, tap, tap, till it finally seemed to halt
outside my door. There was then a pause, during which I could feel
somebody or something was listening most earnestly, making sure, I
thought, whether I was awake or not, and then a terrific crash on one of
the top panels of the door. After this there was silence. I got up, and,
somewhat timidly opening the door, for I more than half expected to find
myself confronted with something peculiarly dreadful and uncanny, peeped
cautiously out. There was nothing to be seen, however; nothing but the
cold splendour of the moon, which, shining through a window nearly
opposite me, filled the entire passage with its beams. I went into each of
the rooms on the landing in turn, but they were all empty, and there was
nothing anywhere that could in any way account for what I had heard. In
the morning I questioned Mrs Bolitho, but she had heard nothing.
"For a wonder," she said, "I slept very soundly all through the night, and
only awoke when it was time to get up."
Two days later I received tidings of the death of my uncle, Colonel John
Vize O'Donnell of Trough.[17] He had died almost suddenly, his death
occurring a few hours after I had heard the footsteps and the knock.
Three years after this experience I had moved into another house in the
same town--also a new house, and also the last in a terrace. At the rear,
and on one side of it, was a garden, flanked by a hedge, beyond which were
fields that led in almost unbroken succession to the coast. It could not
be altogether described as occupying a lonely position, although the
fields were little frequented after dusk.
Well, one night my wife and I were awakened about midnight by a series of
the most agonising and heart-rending screams, which, if like anything
earthly at all, seemed to us to be more like the screams of a woman in the
very direst distress. The cries were so terrible and sounded so near to
us, almost, in fact, in the room, that we were both horribly alarmed, and
hardly knew what to say or think.
"Whatever is happening?" my wife whispered, catching hold of me by the
arm, "and what is it?"
"I don't know," was my reply, "unless it is the Banshee, for there is
nobody else that could make such a noise."
The screams continued for some seconds, and then died away in one
long-drawn-out wail or sob. I waited for some minutes to see if there was
a repetition of the sounds, and, there being none, I at length got up, and
not, I confess, without considerable apprehensions, went out on to the
landing, where I found several of the other inmates of the house collected
together discussing with scared faces the screams which they, too, had
heard. An examination of the house and grounds was at once made, but
nothing was discerned that could in any way account for the sounds, and I
adhered to my opinion that it must have been the Banshee; which opinion
was very considerably strengthened, when, a few days later, I received the
news that an aunt of mine, an O'Donnell, in County Kerry, had passed away
within twenty-four hours of the time the screaming had occurred. It is,
perhaps, a dozen years or so since we left Cornwall, and my latest
experience of the Banshee took place in the house in which we are now
living near the Crystal Palace.
The experience occurred in connection with the death of my youngest
sister. On the night preceding her decease I dreamed most vividly that I
saw the figure of a female dressed in some loose-flowing, fantastic
garment come up the path leading to the house, and knock very loudly
several times, in quick succession, at the back door. I was going to
answer, when a sudden terror held me back.
"It's the Banshee," a voice whispered in my ear, "the Banshee. Don't let
her in, she's coming for one of you."
This so startled me that I awoke. I then found that my wife was awake
also, trembling all over, and in a great state of excitement.
"Did you hear that tremendous knock?" she whispered.
"What!" I replied. "You don't mean to say there really was a knock? Why, I
fancied it was only in my dream."
"You may have dreamt it," she said, "but I didn't--I heard it; it was at
this door, not at the front door. I say knock, but it was really a
crash--a terrific crash on the top panel of the door."
We anxiously waited to see if there would be a repetition, but, nothing
happening, we lay down again, and eventually went to sleep.
On the following day we received a telegram informing us that at ten
o'clock that morning my sister had passed away.
Since then, I am glad to relate I have not again come in contact with the
Banshee. At the same time, however, there are occasions when I feel very
acutely that she is not far away, and I am seldom, if ever, perhaps,
absolutely free from an impression that she hovers near at hand, ready to
manifest herself the moment either death or disaster threaten any member
of my family. Moreover, that she takes a peculiar interest in my personal
affairs, I have, alas, only too little reason to doubt.
ADDENDA
In reply to a letter of mine asking for particulars of the Banshee alleged
to be attached to the Inchiquin family, I received the following:
"I think the name (of the Banshee) was OBENHEIM, but I am not sure.
Two or three people have told me that she appeared before my
grandfather's death, but none of them either saw or heard her, but
they had met people who did say they had heard her."
Writing also for particulars of the Banshee to a cousin of the head of one
of the oldest Irish clans, I received a long letter, from which I will
quote the following:
"I have heard 'the Banshee' cry. It is simply like a woman wailing in
the most unearthly fashion. At the time an O'Neill was in this house,
and she subsequently heard that her eldest brother had died on that
night between twelve a.m. and three a.m., when we all of us heard the
Banshee wailing. I heard her also at my mother's death, and at the
death of my husband's eldest sister. The cry is not always quite the
same. When my dear mother died, it was a very low wail which seemed
to go round and round the house.
"At the death of one of the great O'Neill family, we located the cry
at one end of the house. When my sister-in-law died I was wakened up
by a loud scream in my room in the middle of the night. She had died
at that instant. I heard the Banshee one day, driving in the country,
at a distance. Sometimes the Banshee, who follows old families, is
heard by the whole village. Some people say she is red-haired and
wears a long flowing white dress. She is supposed to wring her long
thick hair. Others say she appears as a small woman dressed in black.
"Such an apparition did appear to me in the daytime before my
mother-in-law died."
The writer of this letter has asked me not to publish her name, but I have
it by me in case corroboration is needed.
In reference to the O'Donnell Banshee, Chapter XIII., my sister,
Petronella O'Donnell, writes:
"I remember vividly my first experience of our Banshee. I had never
heard of it at the time, and in fact I have only heard of it in
recent years.
"It happened one day that I went into the hall, in the daytime, I
forget the exact hour, and as I climbed the stairway, being yet a
small child, I happened to look up. There, looking over the rails at
the top of the stairway, was an object so horrible that I shudder
when I think of it even now. In a greenish halo of light the most
terrible head imagination could paint--only this was no imagination,
I knew it was a real object--was looking at me with apparently
fiendish fire in its light and leering eyes. The head was neither man
nor woman's; it was ages old; it might have been buried and dug up
again, it was so skull-like and shrunken; its pallor was horrible,
grey and mildewy; its hair was long. Its mouth leered, and its light
and cruel eyes seemed determined to hurt me to the utmost, with the
terror it inspired. I remember how my childish heart rebelled against
its cowardice in trying to hurt and frighten so small a child. Gazing
back at it in petrified horror, I slowly returned to the room I had
come from. I resolved never to tell anyone about it, I was so proud
and reserved by nature.
"I had then two secret terrors hidden in my Irish heart. The first
one I have never till recently spoken of to anyone; it happened
before I saw this awful head. I was asleep, but yet I knew I was
_not_ asleep. Suddenly, down the road that led to our home in Ireland
came an object so terrible that for years after my child's heart used
to stand still at the memory of it. The object I saw coming down to
our house was a procession--there were several pairs of horses being
led by grooms in livery, pulling an old coach with them. It was a
large and awful looking old coach! The horses were headless, and the
men who led them were headless, and even now as I write, the awful
terror of it all comes over me, it was a terror beyond words. I
_knew_, I felt certain they had come to cut off my head! This
procession of headless things stopped at our door, the men entered
the house, chased me up to the very top of it, and then cut off my
head! I can remember saying to myself, 'Now I am dead, I am dead, I
can suffer no more.'
"They then went back to the coach, and the procession moved away and
was lost to view.
"Night after night I lay shivering with terror, for months, for
years, there was such a _lurid_ horror about this headless
procession.
"Some weeks after I saw the head, we heard that our father had been
killed about that time in Egypt, murdered it was supposed. My mother
died some years afterwards.
"One evening, when I was grown up, we were sitting round the fire
with friends, and someone said:
"'I don't believe in ghosts. Have you ever met anyone who has seen
one? I have not!'
"A sudden impulse came over me--never to that moment had I ever
mentioned the head--and, leaning forward, I said:
"'I have seen a ghost; I saw the most terrible head when I was a
child, looking over the staircase.'
"To my astonishment my sister, who was sitting near me, said:
"'I saw a most terrible head, too, looking over the staircase.'
"I said:
"'When did you see it? I saw it when our father died.'
"And she said:
"'And, _I_ saw it when our mother died.'
"In describing it, we found all the details agreed, and learned not
long after that it was without doubt our own Banshee we had seen.
"People have said to me that Banshees are heard, not seen. This is
not correct, it all depends if one is clairvoyant or clairaudient.
"I remember when my mother was alive, how I came in from a walk one
evening and found the whole house in a ferment, the most terrible
screaming and crying had been heard pass over the house. Our mother
said it must be the Banshee. Sure enough we heard of the death of a
very near relation directly after. If I had been present, no doubt I
should not only have heard the screams but I should have seen
something as well.
"A few years ago in Ireland I was talking about these things, and a
relation I had not met before was present. He said to me:
"'But as well as the Banshee do you know that we have a _headless
coach_ attached to our family; it is proceeded by men, who lead the
horses, and none of them have heads.'
"Like a flash came that never-to-be-forgotten vision of that awful
procession I had seen as a child, and of which I had never made any
mention till then. I remember now that after I saw the headless coach
we heard that our grandmother was dead. I believe that the headless
coach belongs to her family.
"PETRONELLA O'DONNELL."
The headless coach referred to in the foregoing account comes to us, I
believe, from the Vize family. My grandmother before her marriage was
Sarah Vize, daughter of John Vize of Donegal, Glenagad and Limerick. Her
sister Frances married her cousin, David Roche of Carass (see Burke's
"Landed Gentry of Ireland," under Maunsell family, and Burke's "Peerage
under Roche"), their son being Sir David Roche, Bart.
The great-great-grandmother of Sarah Vize was Mary, daughter of Butler of
the house of the Earl Glengall Cahir. Sarah Vize's mother, my
great-grandmother, before her marriage was Sarah Maunsell, granddaughter
of William Maunsell of Ballinamona, County Cork, the fifth son of Colonel
Thomas Maunsell of Mocollop.
In the accompanying genealogical tree, tracing the descent of the
O'Donnells of Trough from Niall of the Nine Hostages, the O'Briens of
Thomond and the O'Rourkes of Brefui, may be found the basis upon which my
family's claim to the dual Banshee rests.
The original may be seen in the office of the King of Arms, Dublin. The
following is merely an extract:
Niall of the Nine Hostages.
King of Ireland
|
Conall Gulban
|
Feargus
|
Leadna, Prince of Tirconnell
|
Feargus
|
Lughaidb, and from
him, in direct descent, to Foirdhealbhach an Fhiona O'Donnhnaill, who had
two sons, the elder, Shane Luirg and the younger, Niall Garbh. From Niall
Garbh the illustrious Red Hugh and his brother Rory, Earl of Tirconnell,
were descended, from Shane Luirg, whose rank as "The O'Donnell" was taken
by his younger brother, presumably the stronger man of the two, the Trough
O'Donnells are descended.
The line goes on thus:
Shane Luirg
|
Art O'Donnhnail
| (ob. circa 1490)
|
Niall O'Donnhnaill
| (ob. circa 1525)
|
Foirdheal bhach O'Donnhnaill _m._ Julia Maguire
| (ob. 1552)
|
Shane _m._ Rosa, d. of Hugh O'Donnell
| (ob. 1581)
|
Hugh O'Donnell of Limerick _m._ Maria, d. of Donat O'Brien of the
| House of Thomond (ob. 1610)
|
Edmund, of Limerick _m._ Bridget, d. of O'Rourk of the
(ob. 1651) | House of Brefui
|
James, of Limerick _m._ Helena, d. of James Sarsfield,
(ob. 1680) | great-uncle of Patrick
| Sarsfeld, Earl of Lucan
|
John _m._ Margaret, d. of Thomas Creagh
| of Limerick
|
James _m._ Christiana, d. of William
| Stritch of Limerick
|
John _m._ Deborah, d. of William Anderson
(ob. 1780) | of Tipperary
|
+--------------------------------------------+
| |
[18]John, of Limerick _m._ Sarah Elliot Henry Anderson _m._ Domina Jan,
and Baltimore, | of Baltimore, O'Donnell | daughter of
U.S.A (ob. 1805) | U.S.A. (ob. 1840) | nephew of
| | Shah of
| | Persia
| |
Elliot, of Limerick _m._ Sarah Vize, Gen. Sir C. R. _m._ Catherine
(ob. 1836) | of Limerick O'Donnell, Anne, d.
| K.C.B., and of Gen. P.
| Member of the Murray,
| Irish Academy nephew of
| (ob. 1870) the Earl
| of Elibank
Rev. Henry O'Donnell
|
Elliot (youngest son)
For particulars of the pedigree see Vol. X., p. 327, Genealogias, in the
Office of Ulster King of Arms, Dublin.
From Niall to Shane Luirg, see Register XV., p. 5; from Shane to my
grandfather, Elliot, see Register XXIII., p. 286; and down to myself, see
"Sheridan," p. 323.
Referring to the Banshee prior to my aunt's death (see Chapter XIII.) my
wife writes:
"I certainly remember, one night, when we were living in Cornwall,
hearing a most awful scream, a scream that rose and fell, and ended
in a long-drawn-out wail of agony. I have never heard any other sound
at all like it, and therefore cannot think that it could have been
anything earthly. At the time, however, I did think that possibly the
scream was that of a woman being murdered, and did not rest until my
husband, with other inmates of our house, had made a thorough search
of the garden and premises.
"Shortly after we had had this experience, we heard of the death, in
Ireland, of one of my husband's aunts.
"I also recollect that one night, shortly before we received the news
of my sister-in-law's death, I heard a crash on our bedroom door. It
was so loud that it quite shook the room, and my husband, apparently
wakened by it, told me he had dreamed that the Banshee had come and
was knocking for admittance. This happened not very long ago, when we
were living in Norwood.
"ADA O'DONNELL."
PRINTED AT
THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS,
WATERLOO HOUSE, THORNTON STREET,
NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE
Footnotes:
[1] "Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms and Superstitions of Ireland," by Lady
Wilde.
[2] "The Astral Plane," p. 106.
[3] This book was published in 1888.
[4] In the Addenda at end of this volume will be found a genealogical tree
showing descent of author from the Thomond O'Briens.
[5] In Addenda see tree showing descent of author from O'Rourks of Brefni.
[6] As a rule the Banshee is neither heard nor seen by the person whose
death it predicts. There are, however, some notable exceptions.
[7] For further reference to the Banshee of the O'Neills see Addenda.
[8] See Addenda.
[9] See Addenda.
[10] It may be recorded here as a matter of interest that my ancestress,
Helena Sarsfield, was a daughter of James Sarsfield, great-uncle of
Patrick Sarsfield, Earl of Lucan and the defender of Limerick against the
English.
[11] Neither of her stories have appeared in print before.
[12] See "The Ghost World," by T. F. T. Dyer, p. 227.
[13] See Sir Walter Scott's Poetical Works, 1853, VIII., p. 126.
[14] These extracts are taken from quotations of the poem in Chapter II.
of a work entitled "Ancient History of the Kingdom of Kerry" by Friar
O'Sullivan of Muckross Abbey, published in the Journal of the Cork
Historical and Archaeological Society (Vol. V., No. 44); and Friar
O'Sullivan, in commenting upon these passages relating to the Banshees,
writes (quoting from "Kerry Records"): "It seems that at this time it was
the universal opinion that every district belonging to the Geraldines had
its own attendant Banshee" (see _Archaeological Journal_, 1852, on "Folk
Lore" by N. Kearney).
[15] See Records of the Truagh O'Donnells in the Office of the King of
Arms, Dublin. Refs.: Genealogias, Vol. XI., p. 327; Register XV., p. 5;
Register XXII., p. 286; and Sheridan, p. 323.
[16] The originals are still in existence. The diary was kept right up to
the night preceding his death.
[17] Also spelt Truagh.
[18] John O'Donnell of Baltimore's eldest son, Columbus, had a daughter,
Eleanora, who married Adrian Iselin of New York, and their grand-daughter,
Norah, is the present Princess Coleredo Mansfeldt.
* * * *
Transcriber's note:
Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
The following misprints have been corrected:
"know" corrected to "known" (page 14)
"sometime" corrected to "sometimes" (page 17)
"heartrending" standardized to "heart-rending" (page 243)
Other than the corrections listed above, inconsistencies in spelling
and hyphenation have been retained from the original.