by W. B. Yeats
THE CURSE OF THE FIRES AND OF THE SHADOWS.
One summer night, when there was peace, a score of Puritan troopersunder the pious Sir Frederick Hamilton, broke through the door of theAbbey of the White Friars which stood over the Gara Lough at Sligo. Asthe door fell with a crash they saw a little knot of friars, gatheredabout the altar, their white habits glimmering in the steady light ofthe holy candles. All the monks were kneeling except the abbot, whostood upon the altar steps with a great brazen crucifix in his hand.'Shoot them!' cried Sir Frederick Hamilton, but none stirred, for allwere new converts, and feared the crucifix and the holy candles. Thewhite lights from the altar threw the shadows of the troopers up onto roof and wall. As the troopers moved about, the shadows began afantastic dance among the corbels and the memorial tablets. For a littlewhile all was silent, and then five troopers who were the body-guard ofSir Frederick Hamilton lifted their muskets, and shot down five of thefriars. The noise and the smoke drove away the mystery of the pale altarlights, and the other troopers took courage and began to strike. In amoment the friars lay about the altar steps, their white habits stainedwith blood. 'Set fire to the house!' cried Sir Frederick Hamilton,and at his word one went out, and came in again carrying a heap of drystraw, and piled it against the western wall, and, having done this,fell back, for the fear of the crucifix and of the holy candleswas still in his heart. Seeing this, the five troopers who were SirFrederick Hamilton's body-guard darted forward, and taking each a holycandle set the straw in a blaze. The red tongues of fire rushed up andflickered from corbel to corbel and from tablet to tablet, and creptalong the floor, setting in a blaze the seats and benches. The dance ofthe shadows passed away, and the dance of the fires began. The troopersfell back towards the door in the southern wall, and watched thoseyellow dancers springing hither and thither.
For a time the altar stood safe and apart in the midst of its whitelight; the eyes of the troopers turned upon it. The abbot whom theyhad thought dead had risen to his feet and now stood before it with thecrucifix lifted in both hands high above his head. Suddenly he criedwith a loud voice, 'Woe unto all who smite those who dwell within theLight of the Lord, for they shall wander among the ungovernable shadows,and follow the ungovernable fires!' And having so cried he fell on hisface dead, and the brazen crucifix rolled down the steps of the altar.The smoke had now grown very thick, so that it drove the troopers outinto the open air. Before them were burning houses. Behind them shonethe painted windows of the Abbey filled with saints and martyrs,awakened, as from a sacred trance, into an angry and animated life. Theeyes of the troopers were dazzled, and for a while could see nothing butthe flaming faces of saints and martyrs. Presently, however, they saw aman covered with dust who came running towards them. 'Two messengers,'he cried, 'have been sent by the defeated Irish to raise against you thewhole country about Manor Hamilton, and if you do not stop them youwill be overpowered in the woods before you reach home again! They ridenorth-east between Ben Bulben and Cashel-na-Gael.'
Sir Frederick Hamilton called to him the five troopers who had firstfired upon the monks and said, 'Mount quickly, and ride through thewoods towards the mountain, and get before these men, and kill them.'
In a moment the troopers were gone, and before many moments they hadsplashed across the river at what is now called Buckley's Ford, andplunged into the woods. They followed a beaten track that wound alongthe northern bank of the river. The boughs of the birch and quickentrees mingled above, and hid the cloudy moonlight, leaving the pathwayin almost complete darkness. They rode at a rapid trot, now chattingtogether, now watching some stray weasel or rabbit scuttling away inthe darkness. Gradually, as the gloom and silence of the woods oppressedthem, they drew closer together, and began to talk rapidly; they wereold comrades and knew each other's lives. One was married, and toldhow glad his wife would be to see him return safe from this harebrainedexpedition against the White Friars, and to hear how fortune had madeamends for rashness. The oldest of the five, whose wife was dead, spokeof a flagon of wine which awaited him upon an upper shelf; while athird, who was the youngest, had a sweetheart watching for his return,and he rode a little way before the others, not talking at all. Suddenlythe young man stopped, and they saw that his horse was trembling. 'I sawsomething,' he said, 'and yet I do not know but it may have been one ofthe shadows. It looked like a great worm with a silver crown upon hishead.' One of the five put his hand up to his forehead as if about tocross himself, but remembering that he had changed his religion he putit down, and said: 'I am certain it was but a shadow, for there are agreat many about us, and of very strange kinds.' Then they rode on insilence. It had been raining in the earlier part of the day, and thedrops fell from the branches, wetting their hair and their shoulders. Ina little they began to talk again. They had been in many battles againstmany a rebel together, and now told each other over again the storyof their wounds, and so awakened in their hearts the strongest of allfellowships, the fellowship of the sword, and half forgot the terriblesolitude of the woods.
Suddenly the first two horses neighed, and then stood still, and wouldgo no further. Before them was a glint of water, and they knew by therushing sound that it was a river. They dismounted, and after muchtugging and coaxing brought the horses to the river-side. In the midstof the water stood a tall old woman with grey hair flowing over a greydress. She stood up to her knees in the water, and stooped from time totime as though washing. Presently they could see that she was washingsomething that half floated. The moon cast a flickering light upon it,and they saw that it was the dead body of a man, and, while they werelooking at it, an eddy of the river turned the face towards them, andeach of the five troopers recognised at the same moment his own face.While they stood dumb and motionless with horror, the woman began tospeak, saying slowly and loudly: 'Did you see my son? He has a crown ofsilver on his head, and there are rubies in the crown.' Then the oldestof the troopers, he who had been most often wounded, drew his sword andcried: 'I have fought for the truth of my God, and need not fear theshadows of Satan,' and with that rushed into the water. In a moment hereturned. The woman had vanished, and though he had thrust his swordinto air and water he had found nothing.
The five troopers remounted, and set their horses at the ford, but allto no purpose. They tried again and again, and went plunging hither andthither, the horses foaming and rearing. 'Let us,' said the old trooper,'ride back a little into the wood, and strike the river higher up.' Theyrode in under the boughs, the ground-ivy crackling under the hoofs,and the branches striking against their steel caps. After about twentyminutes' riding they came out again upon the river, and after anotherten minutes found a place where it was possible to cross without sinkingbelow the stirrups. The wood upon the other side was very thin, andbroke the moonlight into long streams. The wind had arisen, and hadbegun to drive the clouds rapidly across the face of the moon, so thatthin streams of light seemed to be dancing a grotesque dance among thescattered bushes and small fir-trees. The tops of the trees began alsoto moan, and the sound of it was like the voice of the dead in thewind; and the troopers remembered the belief that tells how the dead inpurgatory are spitted upon the points of the trees and upon the pointsof the rocks. They turned a little to the south, in the hope that theymight strike the beaten path again, but they could find no trace of it.
Meanwhile, the moaning grew louder and louder, and the dance of thewhite moon-fires more and more rapid. Gradually they began to be awareof a sound of distant music. It was the sound of a bagpipe, and theyrode towards it with great joy. It came from the bottom of a deep,cup-like hollow. In the midst of the hollow was an old man with a redcap and withered face. He sat beside a fire of sticks, and had a burningtorch thrust into the earth at his feet, and played an old bagpipefuriously. His red hair dripped over his face like the iron rust upona rock. 'Did you see my wife?' he cried, looking up a moment; 'she waswashing! she was washing!' 'I am afraid of him,' said the young trooper,'I fear he is one of the Sidhe.' 'No,' said the old trooper,
'he is aman, for I can see the sun-freckles upon his face. We will compel himto be our guide'; and at that he drew his sword, and the others did thesame. They stood in a ring round the piper, and pointed their swords athim, and the old trooper then told him that they must kill two rebels,who had taken the road between Ben Bulben and the great mountain spurthat is called Cashel-na-Gael, and that he must get up before one ofthem and be their guide, for they had lost their way. The piper turned,and pointed to a neighbouring tree, and they saw an old white horseready bitted, bridled, and saddled. He slung the pipe across his back,and, taking the torch in his hand, got upon the horse, and started offbefore them, as hard as he could go.
The wood grew thinner and thinner, and the ground began to slope uptoward the mountain. The moon had already set, and the little whiteflames of the stars had come out everywhere. The ground sloped more andmore until at last they rode far above the woods upon the wide top ofthe mountain. The woods lay spread out mile after mile below, and awayto the south shot up the red glare of the burning town. But before andabove them were the little white flames. The guide drew rein suddenly,and pointing upwards with the hand that did not hold the torch, shriekedout, 'Look; look at the holy candles!' and then plunged forward at agallop, waving the torch hither and thither. 'Do you hear the hoofs ofthe messengers?' cried the guide. 'Quick, quick! or they will be goneout of your hands!' and he laughed as with delight of the chase. Thetroopers thought they could hear far off, and as if below them, rattleof hoofs; but now the ground began to slope more and more, and the speedgrew more headlong moment by moment. They tried to pull up, but in vain,for the horses seemed to have gone mad. The guide had thrown the reinson to the neck of the old white horse, and was waving his arms andsinging a wild Gaelic song. Suddenly they saw the thin gleam of a river,at an immense distance below, and knew that they were upon the brink ofthe abyss that is now called Lug-na-Gael, or in English the Stranger'sLeap. The six horses sprang forward, and five screams went up into theair, a moment later five men and horses fell with a dull crash upon thegreen slopes at the foot of the rocks.