Irish Ghost Tales

by Tony Locke

  Between 3 and 24 March seven women were arrested for witchcraft: Janet Mean of Braid Island; Jane Latimer of Irish Quarter, Carrigfergus; Margaret Mitchell of Kilroot; Catherine McCalmont of Island Magee; Janet Liston, alias Sellar, of Island Magee; Elizabeth Sellar, also of Island Magee; and Janet Carson of Island Magee.

  The accused women stood trial on 31 March 1711 at Carrigfergus before judges Upton and McCartney. Dunbar stated that her tormentors had told her she would be unable to give evidence against them in court, then she was reported to have been struck dumb the day before the trial. The accused had no legal representation and no medical evidence regarding Dunbar was ever given. Of course they all denied the charges. They even went as far as to take communion and call upon God as their witness. Judge Upton, in his summing-up, instructed the jury that in his opinion they could not give a guilty verdict based on the evidence of one person’s visions. He went on to say that there was no doubt in his mind that there some diabolical work was going on, but if the persons accused were really witches and in league with the devil they would not attend service and partake of communion on such a regular basis. Unfortunately his brother judge on the bench was not so open-minded. Judge McCartney instructed the jury to find them all guilty. And the jury did just that.

  This was the last trial for witchcraft in Ireland. Judge Anthony Upton committed suicide in 1718.

  39

  THE BLACK DOG

  NATIONWIDE

  The Black Dog is found in folklore all over the world and is essentially a spirit that comes out at night and is often associated with evil fairies or the Christian devil. Usually it is believed to be a portent of death. It is larger than an earthly dog and has large eyes that glow. It is often associated with storms, ancient pathways, crossroads and places of execution, such as a gallows tree.

  Their origin is lost in time but in European folklore and mythology dogs have been associated with death and the underworld and have often been depicted as guardians of the gates. This may also be because of the scavenging habits of dogs, which were often seen around graveyards or searching for fresh meat after a battle. It may be because of this that the legend of the Black Dog came to be.

  In Irish and Scottish folklore, the Cú Sidhe (fairy hound) is a large and fearsome dog with supernatural powers. They are usually black but may also be green (the colour favoured by fairies) or even white with one red ear and one red eye. They are always large, sometimes as big as a calf or small horse. The Cú Sidhe roam the land performing certain tasks for their fairy masters, such as helping in the hunt and abducting human women to take back to the fairy realm. It was believed that these women were used to nurse fairy babies. The Cú Sidhe are completely silent during the hunt but sometimes they give three blood-curdling howls that can be heard from very far away. When men heard this sound they used to lock up their women to prevent them from being carried off. The creatures are said to have the power to appear and disappear at will. In much the same way as the grim reaper appears at death to lead the soul to the afterlife, so the Cú Sidhe takes the soul to the underworld.

  LORD NORBURY, THE ‘HANGING JUDGE’

  John Toler was born in County Tipperary in 1745. He was admitted to the bar in 1770. As a strong supporter of the government, he attained many offices, including that of Lord Chief Justice, and was eventually ennobled as the Earl of Norbury. He was also the Solicitor General and a member of Grattan’s Parliament. Later, by bribery and deception, he reached the bench and became a corrupt and fearsome judge. He had poor legal skills and used his power to intimidate lawyers and defendants with his sarcastic wit and twisted sense of humour. His courts were like a wild theatre. His most famous trial was that of Robert Emmet (1803), in which Norbury continually interrupted and abused Emmet when he was making his speech from the dock, before sentencing him to death.

  Daniel O’Connell despised him and initiated an investigation of his conduct during a trial in which he fell asleep. He was eventually removed from the bench in 1827 due to his absent- mindedness and his inclination to fall asleep during important trials. He died in his home, at 3 Great Denmark Street, Dublin, on 27 July 1831 at the age of 85 years and was buried at St Mary’s church, Mary Street, Dublin.

  But what has this to do with a black dog? Well, the story goes that Norbury wrongfully convicted an innocent young man from Blanchardstown of the capital crime of sheep-stealing. The man was hanged and his distraught widow survived him by just a few months. On her deathbed she cursed Norbury, vowing to haunt him from beyond the grave until the end of time, promising that she would never let him have another night’s sleep. Norbury was said to have suffered from chronic insomnia after that, a deserving end for such a brutal man. When he died, aged 85, Norbury was reportedly changed into a phantom black hound, condemned to forever roam the streets of Cabra, dragging a hefty chain in his wake.

  Even that literary giant James Joyce recalls the black dog, ‘with eyes like carriage lamps’, that patrolled the stairs of the Jesuit College in Kildare, where Joyce went to school.

  Also known as the Hounds of Rage, these black dogs were the legendary hunting dogs of Crom Dubh, also known as the ‘Black Crooked One’.

  The Dartmoor death-hound of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles was based on the black dog.

  On the Isle of Man, there is a story about a black dog that roamed Peel Castle. Every night it warmed itself in front of the guardroom fire and at first the soldiers were afraid, but eventually they got used to it. Then one night, during the reign of Charles II, a drunken soldier boasted that he would patrol the castle alone, and dared the dog to accompany him on his rounds. The ghostly dog arose from his place by the fire and followed the man. Fearful cries and screams issued from the corridor, but no man dared venture from the room. The foolish soldier returned white and gibbering. He died three days later, without saying a word about what he had seen. The black dog has not been seen since, but some say it still haunts the castle, unseen.

  SOME SUPERSTITIONS ASSOCIATED WITH DOGS

  The dog was considered good luck. Its companionship drove away loneliness and the signs of illness and rejection that loneliness brings.

  The howling of the dog was considered the first note of the funeral dirge and the signal that death was near. A dog howling at night when someone in the house is sick is a bad omen.

  Howling dogs mean the wind god has summoned death and the spirits of the dead will be taken.

  It was believed that dogs were capable of becoming ghosts after death.

  In County Cork it was believed that some food should be thrown out of the room of the dying so the death hounds would be drawn away and not take the soul of the dead.

  It was believed that dogs could foresee evil.

  If you have your newborn baby licked by a dog, your baby will be a quick healer.

  Dogs have always been credited with the power of sensing supernatural influences, such as ghosts, spirits, fairies or deities, all of which are invisible to human eyes. It is remarkable that when dogs see spirits they never bark, but only growl.

  Fishermen traditionally regard dogs as unlucky and will not take one out in a boat or mention the word ‘dog’ when they are at sea.

  The sight of a dog eating grass, rolling on the floor or scratching itself excessively are all said to be omens that rain is imminent.

  If several deaths occur in the same family, tie a black ribbon around all living beings that enter the house, even dogs and chickens. This will protect against more death.

  A black dog was said to be a hag’s (witch’s) father.

  Never ask a dog a question for if it answers, you will die in the near future.

  Dogs were feared as carriers of rabies. Sometimes even a healthy dog was killed if it had bitten someone because of the belief that if the dog later developed rabies, even many years afterwards, the bitten person would also be afflicted. Remedies for the bite of a mad dog often included the patient being forced to eat a part of the dog i
n question, such as its hairs or a piece of its cooked liver.

  Dogs were also used to cure other illnesses. One old charm, which was often used for healing sick children, involved taking some of the patient’s hairs and feeding them to a dog in between slices of bread and butter. The ailment was believed to transfer to the animal, healing the patient.

  It is strange that although the dog is so faithful to man, it is never mentioned in the Bible without an expression of contempt. Moses in his code of laws makes the dog out to be an unclean animal, probably to deter the Israelites from the Egyptian worship of this animal. It was the lowest term of offence – ‘Is thy servant a dog?’ False teachers, persecutors, Gentiles, unholy men and others mired in sin and vileness were called dogs, while at the same time the strange prophetic power of these animals was universally acknowledged and recognised.

  40

  THE BLACK PIG

  COUNTY DUBLIN

  An interesting tale associated with the Black Dog Prison in Dublin’s Cornmarket was related in the Dublin Penny Journal in November 1832. The paper described how a ‘creature’, who appeared in the form of a black pig, had apparently engaged in a reign of terror against the women of the city at the end of the eighteenth century.

  The beast, known as ‘The Dolocher’, was commonly believed to be the spirit of a former inmate of the Black Dog named Olocher who had been sentenced to death for murder and rape. On the night before he was to be executed at Gallows Hill, Olocher cheated the hangman by committing suicide. This caused uproar in the prison.

  Within a few days, the prison staff had another worry on their minds. One of the sentry posts, a little removed from the main prison, had a sentry on duty every night but around this time the sentry was found lying unconscious on the ground. He had been badly mauled. When he recovered his senses he told his listeners that he had been attacked by a big black pig. At first, no one believed his story but when he was stripped in the prison hospital, his wounds were so horrible that some began to believe him. During the nights that followed, the black pig was seen by other sentries.

  The prison was now on full alert, but they had another shock coming. About a week after the first sentry was attacked, another sentry on duty at the same lonely post was found to be missing when his relief came to replace him. A search was organised and the man’s clothes were discovered at the rear of the sentry box. His rifle was standing with the butt on the ground and his uniform, tunic, trousers and shirt were piled beside it. Locals, putting two and two together, decided that the black pig was really the ghost of the unhappy Olocher, or the Dolocher, as he came to be known, and that he had carried off the unfortunate sentry and murdered him.

  The news of this second strange happening at the prison travelled quickly and a fear of the night spread through the Liberties. This was compounded by the fact that many women who went out on their own at night around that time were attacked. One woman claimed that she had been attacked by the beast in Christ Church Lane while a pregnant woman was said to have had a miscarriage after an encounter with the beast in the same area. Due to the fear and terror engendered by the black pig, the lanes and alleyways surrounding Christ Church soon became a no-go area after dark.

  The fear that haunted the Liberties soon spread to other parts of the city. People noticed that it was always young women who were attacked. Some of the girls who were attacked said that their attacker had the face of a pig. By this time Dublin was a deserted city at night-time, a city that trembled with fear as the long winter nights shrouded the unlighted streets of the Liberties and other areas. Eventually, the nights grew shorter and the attacks ended with the coming of late spring and summer. When autumn came around again, people hoped and prayed the evil monster would not return. November saw their hopes dashed; another young woman was attacked one foggy night. Her cries for help were heard and the attacker fled. However, the girl’s story was that her attacker was ‘the black pig’.

  Vigilante groups were formed in an effort to catch the Dolocher and, on one particular night, the patrons of a pub on Cook Street set out to kill every black pig they could find running loose on the streets of Dublin. The presence of the vigilantes seemed to force the Dolocher to lie low for a while, but he re-emerged to continue his reign of terror a year later with an attack on a woman at Fisher’s Alley, beside Wood Quay. People grew fearful once again and some families barred their doors at night-time. A couple of weeks passed and a couple more women were attacked before the weather took a hand in things.

  It was a late November evening and the weather was fine, so a blacksmith from the edge of the Liberties decided to take a walk to his favourite tavern on Thomas Street for a drink and a chat with his friends. Time passed quickly. Eventually the blacksmith decided it was time to go home. When he came out of the tavern, he discovered it was raining. He had brought no coat with him, so he returned to the tavern owner for the loan of something to keep the rain off. The tavern owner gave him a long hooded cloak belonging to his wife. The blacksmith set off to walk home through the dark streets and alleyways of the Liberties. He had just reached the end of a dark alleyway when a figure sprang at him and attempted to punch him to the ground. In a flash, he realised that his attacker was the black pig and the black pig realised that this was no frail woman. Within a few minutes, the blacksmith had his attacker on the ground and had pulled off the black pig’s head mask the man was wearing.

  By this time, three or four men had arrived on the scene. They were in no way gentle with the perpetrator as they dragged him to his feet and brought him to the police station. The next morning the man was identified. The blacksmith had delivered a fatal blow to his attacker, who was identified as the missing sentry. Before the man died, he confessed to aiding Olocher in his suicide and orchestrating the slaughter of the pigs. He had spread the rumour of the black pig himself, taking advantage of the resulting atmosphere of fear and superstition to attack and rob the innocent women of the Liberties. In some ways, he was Dublin’s Jack the Ripper.

  THE BLACK PIG OF MUCK DHUBH,

  ENNISCRONE, COUNTY SLIGO

  In the townland of Muckduff or Muc Dhubh, which means ‘black pig’, there is a large mound. It is believed to be the grave of a giant black pig. The story of how the pig came to be buried there starts in south Donegal, where an evil spirit took possession of an old pig. Once the pig had been taken over by the evil spirit it, began attacking and eating local people. A band of local hunters set out on a mission to kill the pig. They chased it from County Donegal down into County Sligo, eventually arriving at Lenadoon, Easkey, County Sligo, where it disappeared into the sea. Thinking it had been killed, the hunters headed back home to County Donegal.

  The pig eventually surfaced at Enniscrone, where it came ashore and started killing the local people. However, the locals armed themselves with long-handled pikes and fought back. They chased the pig until they caught and killed it in a place that now bears its name, Muc Dhubh. Unfortunately for one of the townspeople, it was discovered that the pig was covered in poisonous hairs that could kill a person, so the local people to decide to bury it where it fell by simply covering it with large amounts of stone and earth.

  41

  THE BLACK CAT

  NATIONWIDE

  The black cat also features widely in Irish folklore; there are tales of spectral cats, such as the cat sidhe, talking cats and shape-shifting cats. A traditional Irish greeting upon entering the house was, ‘God save all here, except the cat.’ This was because of cats’ association with evil. Strangely, it was considered lucky for a stray cat to enter the house.

  THE BLACK CAT OF KILKENNY

  This poem is about an incident that occurred in an army barracks in Kilkenny in 1798. There is some dispute about the poem and other versions have been put forward.

  There once were two cats from Kilkenny; each thought there was one cat too many.

  So they fought and they fit and they scratched and they bit

  And instead of two cat
s, there ain’t any!

  The viciousness of the fight has lived on in the folk memory and the phrase ‘to fight like a Kilkenny cat’ is still used to this day for a particularly tenacious fight.

  SUPERSTITIONS

  A cat sitting with its back to the fire is a sure sign of bad weather.

  It was once believed that the bite of a cat was poisonous.

  It’s a sign of bad luck to meet a magpie, a cat or a lame woman on a trip.

  In mythology, the cat was believed to have great influence on the weather. Witches who rode on storms took the form of cats. The dog, an attendant of the storm king Odin, was a symbol of the wind. Cats came to symbolise downpours of rain and dogs came to symbolise strong gusts of wind. This may be where we got the phrase, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’

  Sailors used cats to predict how their voyages would be. Loudly mewing cats meant that it would be a difficult voyage. A playful cat meant that it would be a voyage with good and gusty winds.

  Some people believe that cats are able to see the human aura, which is the energy that surrounds the human body.