Kildare Folk Tales
Page 13
This ball was then exhibited in the hall of the Bloody Branch or Red Branch. One day, when the Ulstermen were drunk and King Conchobar (King Conor Mac Nessa could not restore peace among them) ordered that the ‘brains of Mesgegra’ be brought to him. This inspired such terror that when he challenged the other warriors to single combat with stone and sling no one would oppose him, and the ‘brains’ were put away again, with harmony and brotherhood restored.
But Cet, son of Maga, a great warrior from Leinster, who was always in search of an evil deed (an Ulsterman’s head to cut off), knowing that Mesgegra had predicted that his death would be avenged by his own head, seized the ‘brains’ and managed to throw them at King Conchobar’s head with great force. It embedded itself in Conchobar skull. His doctor refused to remove the ball and would only tie it to him with a golden thread. King Conchobar was greatly disabled by this and could only remain seated in his throne and watch the others. After seven years he lost his temper, the ‘Brain of Mesgegra’ burst from his head, and he died.
He was later avenged by Conall Cernach, who killed Cet, Son of Maga, and cut off his head. And Conall Cernach himself met his own death many years later at the hands of the men of Connaught.
The remains of King Mesgegra were buried in a mound in Clane where he had met his death.
Queen Buan was buried at the mound in Mainham on the outskirts of Clane. Like her name, her memory is eternal and she still keeps watch over the souls of Mainham graveyard, a silent sentry who died of a broken heart.
19
LANIGAN’S BALL
No collection of folk tales about Kildare would be complete without including the great Kildare folk song, Lanigan’s Ball. This chapter is dedicated to Ray Dunne from Athy, County Kildare, and my co-founder of The Quiet Men, a new venture celebrating the ancient art of the Bard and the Storyteller.
It is still one of my all-time favourites and warms my heart every time I hear it and sure, what man or woman alive would not feel compelled to dance to ‘Lanigan’s Ball’?
‘Lanigan’s Ball’ (sometimes ‘Lannigan’s Ball’) is a popular traditional or folk Irish song that has been played throughout the world since at least the 1860s and possibly much longer. Typically performed in a minor key, it is generally played in an upbeat style reminiscent of the party atmosphere of the story unfolding through the lyrics.
The lyrics are about a party thrown by a hardworking young man, Jeremy Lanigan, who has inherited a ‘farm and ten acres of ground’ on the death of his father. The events occur in Athy, County Kildare. Jeremy decides to have the party for friends and relations who supported and helped him out when he didn’t have any resources; ‘friends and relations who didn’t forget him when come to the wall’.
The lyrics of the song describe the people who attended the party and the food and drink that was available. In the chorus of the song, the narrator describes his time spent at ‘Brooks Academy’ in Dublin learning to dance in preparation for the ball:
In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanigan
Battered away till he hadn’t a pound
And his father he died and made him a man again,
Left him a farm and ten acres of ground.
He gave a grand party to friends and relations
Who did not forget him when come to the wall.
If you’d only listen, I’ll make your eyes glisten
At the rows and ructions of Lanigan’s Ball.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
Myself to be sure got free invitations
For all the nice girls and boys I might ask.
In less than a minute both friends and relations
We’re dancing as merry as bees round a cask.
Lashings of punch and wine for the ladies,
Potatoes, cakes, there was bacon and tea.
There were the Nolans, Dolans, O’Gradys,
Courting the girls and dancing away.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
They were doing all kinds of nonsensical polkas
Round the room in a whirly gig
But Julia and I soon banished their nonsense
And tipped them a twist of a real Irish jig.
Oh how the girl she really got mad and we
Danced that you’d think that the ceiling would fall,
For I spent three weeks at Brooks Academy
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
And I stepped out – and I stepped in again
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball
The boys were as merry, the girls all hearty,
Dancing around in couples and groups.
Till an accident happened, young Terence McCarthy
He put his right leg through Miss Finerty’s hoops.
The creature she fainted and cried ‘Meelia Murther’
And called for her brothers and gathered them all.
Carmody swore that he’d go no further,
Till he had satisfaction at Lanigan’s ball.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
Boys, oh boys, tis there was ructions
Myself got a kick from big Phelim McHugh
And I soon replied to his kind introduction
And kicked him a terrible hullabaloo.
Casey the piper was nearly being strangled,
They squeezed up his pipes, bellows, chanters and all
And the girls in their ribbons they all got entangled
And that put an end to Lanigan’s ball.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
And I stepped out – and I stepped in again
Learning to dance for Lanigan’s ball.
20
THE DEATH COACH
This is a great story that I found in the 1902 edition of the Kildare Archaeological Society Journal. The story was told by a man called Tom Daly from Millbrook in Rathangan, County Kildare and was collected by Miss Greene. I have other accounts that claim the same Death Coach was seen in and around Mullaghmast, near Athy in Kildare. I have put together all the information that I found to present you with this spine-chilling tale.
Tom Daly was going home one night from wherever it was he had been. He was a private sort a man and minded his own business. He never had any issue with walking the quiet, lonely roads at night by himself as he had no belief in the strange stories that people would tell around the fire at night. That was all about to change.
Tom reckoned that it was around midnight, when he was just at the top of ‘Sal’s Hill’, that he heard a loud buzzing noise coming towards him. Then he saw something approaching him at a ferocious speed. According to Tom, it was speeding up ‘The Long Acre’, or ‘The Ditch’ as it is more commonly known. His heart was in his mouth with the fear. At first he thought it was one of those newfangled motorcars that were causing so many disturbances around the countryside. But what on earth was is doing in The Ditch? Also, no vehicle then would have been able to travel at such a great speed.
It was buzzing like a thresher and creating an awful noise. He said that there were no lights and he couldn’t see the shape of it behind the hedge. Tom stepped out into the middle of the road to try and get a better look at what th
is strange contraption was and he realised it was a type of coach. He stood and looked at it as it went down to the quarry lane, but then poor Tom got the fright of his life when he saw that the men driving the coach had no heads and the horses pulling it were headless also. The coach then disappeared into the night.
Tom claimed he never saw it again but he did hear the whirring, buzzing sound of ‘The Death Coach’ a few times more in and around the area.
There is speculation that this phantom carriage was associated with a terrible massacre that took place in Mullamast in 1577, when the chiefs of Uí Failghe and Laoighis were lured into a trap and massacred by the O’Dempseys and their English allies. There is a deep hollow in the ground where the slaughter was supposed to have taken place and it is known as ‘The Bloody Hole’.
Lord Walter Fitzgerald, in his article in The Kildare Archaeological Society Journal from 1895 entitled ‘Mullaghmast, its Histories and Traditions’, reproduces a memorial drawn up by Captain Thomas Lee in 1594. It written was for presentation to Queen Elizabeth I, and argued that the country was being misgoverned and the native Irish were being treated. In it he says:
They have drawn unto them, by protection, three or four hundred of those country people, under Colour to do your Majesty service, and brought them to a place of meeting, where your garrison soldiers were appointed to be, who have there most dishonourably put them all to the sword; and this hath been by the consent and practice of the Lord Deputy for the time being. If this be a good course to draw these savage people to the state to do your Majesty service, and not rather to enforce them to stand upon their guard, I humbly leave to your Majesty.
21
KILDARE FAIRY TALES
These stories are included in the National Folklore Collection held at the Newman Building at University College Dublin. The collection consists of folklore material collected by eleven- to fourteen-year-old primary school students during 1937-8, and is separated in volumes by school, parish, townland and county, so that specific areas may be explored. These were gathered from the files numbered 771 to 776. They are all retold by children and have all the innocence and enthusiasm of a child’s imagination, combined with the aural tradition that was still very much alive at the time.
In 1937 a collaboration between the Department of Education and the Irish National Teachers Organisation resulted in this wonderful scheme being initiated to encourage schoolchildren to collect folklore and local history from their areas. Over a period of eighteen months, some 100,000 children in over 5,000 National Schools in 26 counties in the Republic of Ireland took part. They were asked to look at different areas, including folklore. It contains myths, legends, songs, poems, riddles, cures, games, crafts and a whole plethora of other traditions and disciplines.
Most of the work was gathered by the children from their parents and grandparents, other family members and older neighbours. It is a truly remarkable collection of magnificent original material and a real treasure trove for anyone interested in folklore and folk traditions.
A FAIRYTALE BY NANCY BONROY, ROBERTSTOWN NATIONAL SCHOOL, NAAS, AGED 12 YEARS
Years ago there lived in Littletown a man named Jack Brennan. He was very poor. One day he had no food to eat, and his wife said to him, ‘Jack get up early in the morning and go off and sell that cow’. When morning came Jack got up about five o’clock and started for the fair. When he was passing by a place in Littletown called a Rath he heard music and dancing. He was opening the gate to go in when a voice cried out, ‘Go back Jack Brennan,’ and at the same moment the place became all dark and in front of Jack stood a little man with a red cap on him. He asked Jack how much did he want for the cow, and he said thirty pounds. The little man told him to put the cow into the house which he showed him. Jack put the cow in it and the little man told him to take as much gold and silver as he wanted. Jack filled his pockets with gold and silver and started for home. When he went home he told his wife and she said to put the gold and silver into a sack. He did so and went to bed. When they got up the next morning they got a great surprise. Instead of a sack of gold and silver there was sack of old withered leaves in it.
THE CHILDREN OF THE RATH BY PETER DALY, BLACKWOOD, ROBERTSTOWN, AGED 13 YEARS
Once upon a time there lived a farmer. He used to lose a big number of cattle every year. There was a rath on his land. One night a very small man had asked him if he lost many of his cattle. The farmer said he did. The little man told him to take the fire himself every night and to sweep the hearth clean. The farmer did as he was told and he lost no more cattle.
The next year he had a black cow that was after calving but gave him no milk so he decided to sell her. He brought her to the fair and sold her. That evening when returning home by the rath he saw sixteen children and they crying out, ‘Where is our cow? What are we going to do for milk.’ The farmer then decided to get back the cow at the loss of the milk. He went to the man that he sold her to and gave him back his money and got the cow. He left her by the rath where he saw the children. He did not milk her for three years and then she disappeared. He said nothing to anyone about her. Seven years passed when one morning he went out to the stable and what did he find but the black cow back in her own place in the stable and four lovely black cows and four lovely white calves along with her. That was his reward from the ‘good people’.
THE DEVIL AND DOCTOR FOSTER BY JOHN BOONEY KILMORE, ENFIELD
Once upon a time there was a doctor in Summerhill named Doctor Foster. He was very fond of the playing cards. One night a man was sick and needed a doctor. The man lived about two miles outside Summerhill. At about nine o’clock at night an urgent call came to the door. The doctor did not go at once because he was too well engaged playing his cards. When he had finished his game, which was about half an hour later, he told the groom to saddle his horse. When the horse was at the door he mounted him and rode away.
When he went about a mile of the road there was a barren and for quickness sake he took it and went that way. He was grumbling about being out in the cold and wished he were at home again. He was then about halfway through the barren but then all of a sudden the horse shied and the doctor looking to see what was it saw. He saw two men sitting by a camp fire playing cards. They halted him and asked him to join them in a game. He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree and sat down to play. They were not long playing when the priest came along also on horseback. They asked him to play but the priest refused and said he was in a hurry. He asked the doctor to come with him but the doctor said he was time enough. The priest then went on his journey. After a while the doctor let a card fall. He stooped to pick it up and he saw the cloven foot and he knew it was the devil. He immediately rose to go home. He untied his horse and mounted him but the horse would not stir. He dismounted and beat the horse but he would not go. He left the horse there and walked home. As he left he looked back and saw that the devil was gone. He then went to the priest and apologised to him for not going with him.
THE GOOD PEOPLE BY MAUREEN LAMBERR, ROBERTSTOWN NS, NAAS 14 NOVEMBER 1935, AGED 13 YEARS
Years ago an old neighbour of ours had many farms in Grangehiggin, Kilmeague, Naas, County Kildare. On one of the farms stood a rath. He considered it spoiled his field and he wanted to till it. He had three workmen and he told them he would dismiss them if they did not plough it. They were very sad at the thought of being dismissed; but at the same time were afraid to interfere with the homes of the good people. They had to do as the old farmer told them, for they had wives and children depending on their wages. They started to plough the rath. When they came to the middle of it the man who was following with the horses said, ‘Good people don’t blame me for cutting up your home’. A little man dressed in red came up through the ground. He had a very sorrowful face and he said, ‘What do you mean by putting me out of my home?’ The man told him that the farmer would dismiss him if he did not do it. The fairy told him not to go on ploughing or he would be sorry. He gave the fairy a promise he
would not. When he went home in the evening the farmer was ill in bed. The workmen told him what happened and the old farmer dismissed him. In a week’s time the farmer died. Sometime after the farm was sold and the man who bought it gave this poor man back his job. But the rath never could be tilled.
THE THREE DOGS BY PAT DOWING ALLENWOOD MIDDLE
Once upon a time there lived a king with his four sons. His wife died and he married another woman. One day she brought the three eldest princes into the forest and changed them into three dogs. The three dogs’ names were Anvilhead, Hearwell and Runwell. Anvilhead could knock down stone walls with his head. If he gave anything a puck he killed it. Hearwell could hear anything, no matter how far off it was. He could hear the grass growing. Runwell could catch anything in the world, no matter how swift it was. The youngest prince was too young to be changed into a dog and so the witch queen put him in prison. He grew up to be a fine prince. One day he managed to escape from the prison. The witch could change herself into a hare, or a fox, or a wolf, and when she saw the young prince escaping she changed herself into a hare and took her magic wand with her. The prince kept running until he came to the forest. The three dogs saw the prince and they waited for him. They knew who he was. They also know the witch when she was changed into a hare, or a fox, or a wolf. When the prince came to the dogs he asked them their names, they told him and after a while he fell asleep.
All this time the witch in the shape of a hare was coming to change the prince into a dog. ‘Here she comes,’ said Hearwell. The very moment Runwell saw her he took after her. The witch ran very hard but Runwell caught her all the same. ‘Hold her till I give her a puck,’ said Anvilhead. Hearwell gave Runwell a hand to hold her. All of a sudden the witch changed herself into a fox and escaped before Anvilhead came up to kill her. The next day she came in the shape of a fox to the wood. Hearwell heard her coming and told Runwell. Runwell caught her and Hearwell gave Runwell a hand to hold her until Anvilhead would come up. They made up their minds not to let her escape this time but she turned herself into a wolf this time and fought them before Anvilhead came up. They were very disappointed at having let the witch escape twice. They thought that sooner or later their brother would be changed into a dog. After a while they agreed upon a plan. When she came the next time, the three of them would wait until she was about a yard or so away from them and then they would rush upon her and kill her. After a while Hearwell said he heard her coming. They waited for her. When the witch saw no one coming she thought her way was clear. She was coming in the shape of a wolf. When she came near to them they rushed upon her. Anvilhead gave her a puck but it did not kill her, so she changed herself into a hare. Runwell caught her and nearly killed her. When she was dying her two front paws changed into two hands. In her hand she held a wand. With it she changed the three dogs back into three princes. The four of them then went back to the old king.