Bits of Blarney

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by R. Shelton Mackenzie


  THE LEGEND OF CORRIG-NA-CAT.

  We call that rock by a strange name--from a strange circumstance, saidCronin. Upon the top, some hundreds of years ago, there stood a castle,belonging to the old Kings of Muskerry. Some cousin of theirs lived init with his family, and was as happy as the day is long. How ithappened, never could be ascertained; but happen it certainly did, that,one night, castle and people and all suddenly disappeared. I misdoubtthat there were bad spirits at work. However, the general belief is,that the rock opened and swallowed all up, and that the lord and ladyare kept there, spell-bound, as it were, in the shape of cats. Fromthis, the rock is called Corrig-na-cat, or the Cat Rock. 'Tis a mightypretty derivation.

  Whether the castle were swallowed up in that manner, or not, strangesights have been seen, by the light of the full moon, about that place.There is a little green spot on the brow of the hill, where there is afairy-circle; on that spot sweet music has been heard by night, and thegood people (as well as the fairies) have been seen dancing on the greenturf, dressed in green and gold, with beautiful crowns upon theirheads, and white wands in their little hands. Ah, sir, you may smile,but that's the belief in this part of the country, and he'd be lookedupon as no better than a heathen who'd venture to say a word against it.

  My grandfather, although a trifle given to drink, was as honest a man asever broke bread. One summer night, while he lay in bed, between asleepand awake, he heard a strange deep voice speak to him. It said, " Thewords of fate! heed them. Go, at midnight, to Corrig-na-cat; take withyou a box of candles and a hundred fathoms of line; fasten one end ofthe line to the tree that grows just outside the mouth of the cave, and,tying the other end round your waist, boldly advance with a pair oflighted candles in your hands: the use of the line is, that you may rollit up as you come back, and not lose your way. Keep to the right-handside, and go on until you come to a large room with two cats in it. Inthe room beyond that, there is as much gold as would buy a kingdom. Youmay take with you a bag to carry away as much of it as you please; but,on your peril, do not touch anything else; your life will not be worth abrass sixpence, if you do."

  You may be sure, sir, that this piece of information astonished mygrandfather. But he was a sensible man, and, doubting whether two headswould be better than one in such a serious matter, nudged my grandmotherwith his elbow, to know if she was awake. She slept--sound as a top; sohe let her sleep on. He was rather too knowing to let _her_ into thesecret. He thought over all that he had ever heard of Corrig-na-cat; hecalled to mind how his mother had always said that our family were thereal descendants of the lord and lady of the castle. He began to fancythat this was some great oracle that had come to visit him, in orderthat _he_ might break the spell that kept the castle and its inhabitantsclosed up in the rock. Indeed, he was very much perplexed, butdetermined to wait a bit, and carefully keep his own counsel.

  A warning from the world of spirits is worth nothing, if it is notrepeated. The next night, my grandfather again was cautioned to listento the words of fate. The third night the visitation was repeated. Heknew, then, that the thing was no feint; and on the fourth night, hestole out of the house to go on the adventure.

  It was as pitch dark as if light had never been invented. He took thehundred fathoms of line, the box of candles, a sack to bring home asupply of gold, and a good-sized flask of strong whiskey. When hereached the rock, his heart began to fail him. The night was so stillthat he could hear the beating of his heart--thump, thump, thump,against his breast. He could hear the bats flying about, and he couldsee the owls looking on him with their great, round, brown eyes.Swallowing most of the contents of the flask at one pull, he found hisspirits wonderfully restored, and he pushed forward to the mouth of thecave. He fastened one end of the line to the tree; he said an _Ave_ ortwo--for we are all of us a pious family--he drained the flask, and thenhe dashed forward.

  The way was as straight as an arrow for about thirty yards, but, afterthat, it took as many turnings and twistings as a problem of Euclid inthe sixth book, and branched out into many directions. My grandfatherfollowed on the right-hand side, as he had been told, and soon foundhimself at the gateway of an old hall. He pushed open the door, and sawthat there were doors upon doors, leading off to many a place. He stillkept to the right, and in a few minutes found himself in astate-chamber. Pillars of white marble supported the roof, and, at thefarthest end, the hall opened into an apartment, through which therebeamed a soft and beautiful light, as if it came from a thousand shadedlamps.

  Here was the end of his journey. A carved mantel-piece of white marblewas over the fireplace, and there lay two beautiful white cats, oncrimson-velvet cushions, before the fire. Diamonds and rubies, emeraldsand amethysts, pearls and topazes, were piled on the ground in heaps,and ceiling and walls were covered all over with them, so that rays oflight gleamed down upon him, wherever he looked.

  There was no living thing in the room with my grandfather but the cats.The creatures had golden collars, embossed with diamonds, round theirnecks; and to these were fastened long gold chains, which just gave themliberty to move round the room, being fastened to the walls, one at eachside, by golden staples. He noticed that the animals steadily kept theireyes upon him, and appeared to watch every motion of his.

  My grandfather passed on into the inner room. The gold lay on the floorlike wheat in a miller's store. He filled his sack with the coin to thebrim, until, though he was said to be the strongest man in the wholebarony, he had some difficulty in lifting it. As he passed through theroom in which the cats were, he paused for a moment, to have a partingglance at all the treasures he was leaving. There was one golden star,studded with diamonds as big as walnuts, and blazing like a lamp,hanging down before him from the ceiling. It was too tempting. He forgotthe advice not to touch anything but the gold in the inner room, andreached out his hand to seize the sparkling prize. One of the cats, whohad eagerly watched his motions, sprang forward as he touched the jewel,and quick as a lightning-stroke, hit out his right eye with a sharp dashof his paw. At the same moment, an invisible hand whipped off the sackof gold from his shoulders, as if it were only a bag of feathers. Outwent all the lights. My grandfather groped his way out as well as hecould, by the help of the guiding-line fastened to his wrist, and cursedhis greediness, that would not be content with enough. He got home bydaybreak, with only one eye in his head, and that, without meaning tojoke on his misfortune, was the _left_ one.

  Next day he sent for the priest, and told him what had happened. Mygrandmother said that all the misfortune was owing to _her_ not being inthe secret. The priest said nothing. Before long, all the country heardof the story, and half the country believed it. To be sure, as mygrandfather was rather addicted to liquor (and there was a privatestill, in those days, in almost every corner), it was a chance that hemight have dreamt all this:--but then, there was his right eye absent.There were some malicious people, indeed, who hinted that he fell overthe cliff, in a drunken fit, and that his eye was scratched out in thatmanner. But it would ill beseem me to make a story-teller of mydead-and-gone grandfather, and so I maintain the truth of his ownstatement. If it is not true, it deserves to be.

  In this conclusion I fully agreed, and the Philomath, proud of thedisplay of his legendary lore, and happy on having fallen in with apatient and willing auditor, next proceeded to acquaint me with theaccredited legend of the meadow next the lake. As before, I shallendeavor, in repeating it, to adhere to the very words of my informant.

 

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