Monaghan Folk Tales

by Lally, Steve;

  This story is as haunting for the brutal reality of its setting as for its supernatural elements.

  There was a man from Glaslough (meaning ‘Green Lake’, this is where Castle Leslie can be found) in Co. Monaghan who was fighting with the Old Irish Republican Army during the Irish War of Independence.

  Now, he had managed to escape from a group of Black and Tans that had captured his platoon. So, he was on the run and had to travel by night and sleep by day. He slept wherever he could, in hay sheds and wooded areas and if there were any safe houses, sure, that was all the better. But he had to keep moving. As he had to keep to the fields and off the roads, travel was very slow and he could not travel too far for too long.

  Well now, he was somewhere between Glaslough and Emmyvale when he saw a priest he recognised and knew he could trust, so he approached the priest, who was very pleased to see him and said that he had not seen him about the place for a brave while. He asked the young man where he had been and he told him that he was on the run and had to lay low for a while in hay sheds and safe houses and he was running out of places to hide from the Tans and informers.

  Well, the priest was only too happy to help him and told him there was a place at Donagh chapel where he could stay, for they had built rooms over the chapel for the priests as they could not afford a parochial house at the time.

  Now, this seemed like a great idea altogether and the young man was very grateful and relieved that he would have a safe place to stay for a while. So, the priest took him there and showed him the two rooms over the chapel. There was a wee kitchen and the priest said he would make him up a bed too. Sure, the young man was delighted. The priest gave him a key to get to the rooms and said that he could keep it, but that he must keep the door locked at all times.

  So the young fugitive came and went as he pleased and all was well. One evening when he got back from one of his late excursions, he decided that he would go into the chapel below and say a couple of prayers to give thanks for how things had improved for him.

  He knelt down in one of the aisles and put his head in his hands and began to pray. But it was not long before he fell asleep in the peaceful chapel. He was woken up by a bell ringing and when he looked up he saw a priest standing on the altar, all in white. The priest turned around and asked if there was anyone in the congregation who could serve Mass and the young man, who had been an altar boy, offered to serve the Mass.

  Now, at that time, the priest would have stood on the altar with his back to the congregation and said the Mass in Latin and that is exactly what happened that night in Donagh chapel.

  When the Mass was over, the mysterious priest turned around and thanked the young man for serving Mass.

  He told the young man that he had been coming to the chapel for over sixty years and that he could never get anybody to serve Mass, so he was very grateful.

  With that, to the young man’s surprise, the priest vanished right before his eyes. Quietly the man turned and went on up to his room, content in the knowledge that he had helped some old ghost find peace at last on that lonely night in Donagh chapel.

  23

  THE GRAVEYARD BRIDE

  The chilling story of the graveyard bride has its origins in Errigal Truagh graveyard, Co. Monaghan. It is a wonderful ghost story. The writer William Carleton wrote a poem based on it. The graveyard bride conjures up both the imagery and eeriness of an Edgar Allan Poe classic.

  There are few greater superstitions and fears in Ireland than those linked with death.

  If a magpie comes to your door and looks at you, it is a sure sign of death and when a swarm of bees suddenly quits the hive, it is a sign that death is hovering near the house. Stop all clocks at the time of death to confuse the Devil and give the soul time to reach heaven. Cover all mirrors at the time of a death in the house, or the soul of the deceased will become trapped in the mirror. In Ireland, the dead are carried out of the house feet first in order to prevent the spirit from looking back into the house and calling upon other members of the family to follow him.

  These are just a few of the superstitions that some people in Ireland still believe to this day. Most of them have been passed down from generation to generation.

  The ‘Demon Bride’, also known as the graveyard bride or the phantom bride, is a folkloric figure that goes about stealing the life force from hapless mourners. The stories about her (there are a few male equivalents also) would put the fear of God into anyone.

  Graveyards are the perfect setting for a good ghost story. Many won’t walk past them or visit them after dark. Some recall seeing shadows or hearing voices late at night. Some say that these voices are the souls gathering together. Lots of stories from Irish folklore are based on the dead and their resting place. But no story I have come across is as chilling as the story of the graveyard bride that roams a medieval graveyard in Co. Monaghan.

  Errigal Truagh medieval church and graveyard is one of the most ancient religious sites in Ulster. It is believed to have been a site of worship as far back as early Christian times. The graveyard was used for burials into the present century, but the church next to it was dismantled in 1835.

  The graveyard is acclaimed for its distinctively carved eighteenth-century headstones and there is a holy well that attracted generations of pilgrims until the nineteenth century. People can still visit the well to this day.

  The church is dedicated to Saint Mellan, or Muadan, and the graveyard has one of the most important collections of decorated headstones in Ireland. According to the Monaghan tourism website, the headstones in the graveyard are carved in a distinctive south Ulster style. Many of the headstones feature the five mortality symbols: skulls, long bones, coffins, bells and hourglasses.

  People might come to the holy well for a drop of holy water to bring to the sick or elderly, and some might come to photograph the ancient headstones, but one thing is for sure: no one comes to meet the graveyard bride. I am sure funerals in this graveyard were not well attended when word got out of the spirit’s presence – it is believed that if a beautiful women (or handsome man) approaches you after a funeral and arranges a date with you, then it will not be long before you too are put into the ground.

  There are many versions of the same story, but sadly they all end the same way – in death.

  One version of the story holds that when a funeral takes place in the graveyard, an entity is present. It manifests itself as a woman and to the human eye appears to be a living, breathing human being. This ‘woman’ mingles with the congregation and so to those in attendance, she would not look out of place. She approaches the last person to leave the funeral (if the hanger-on happens to be a man) and she goes about setting a date when she and the mortal can meet before vanishing into thin air. The date they set is the date the man will die.

  Another version I heard from a person in the locality held that the lady is meant to have a charmed passion and comes with a promise to meet in the churchyard on a month from that day. The promise is sealed by a kiss, which results in a deadly stain on the skin of the receiver. It might even be his last kiss. A fatal kiss.

  In Banshees, Beasts and Brides from the Sea: Irish Tales of the Supernatural (Appletree Press, 1996), Bob Curran writes the story of the graveyard bride. In his detailed description, he states that if the person is a man, then the spirit will take the shape of a beautiful woman, and if the person is a woman, then it appears as a handsome man. He also states that the spirit is always seen in the churchyard and that it is always in the evening, during the dark months of the year. The graveyard bride is said to be the ghost of a woman who was jilted at the altar and has been waiting for her man ever since. Only those who are about to die can see the phantom bride. The spirit is pleasant and charming, but it will get you to promise to meet again and whatever date the spirit chooses will be the date of the person’s death.

  Curran tells a story dating back to 1895 about a young man called John Torney, who came to a tragic end after meeting
the graveyard bride. Although his family were originally from Co. Monaghan, he was living in the north of England and had returned home for a funeral. He was lingering after attending the burial and when he was about to leave, he saw a figure moving at a fast pace between gravestones, only stopping at the odd one to read the inscription.

  As this female figure drew closer, he noticed how beautiful she was and if he hadn’t just attended a funeral, he would have sworn he had been to a wedding because what stood before him was a beautiful bride dressed in white.

  She had long dark hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Her beauty was apparent, but he could see that she was in deep despair. He asked her if she was looking for something and she explained to him that she had come to the graveyard to wait for a man, but because it was growing dark she was worried he wasn’t going to show up and so she was forlorn.

  She asked John if he would wait with her and he agreed, so they sat together on a stone and talked. She asked him many questions but did not give too much of herself away.

  It was dark by now and it was obvious that the man the woman was waiting for had stood her up. John had enjoyed talking to her, so he asked her name. She said, ‘I will not tell you my name now, but let’s meet again, on this spot, one year from this evening and you will know everything about me.’ And, before he could answer, the woman was gone. Up she got and she made her way back through the headstones until she disappeared completely.

  John went back to his lodging and couldn’t get the meeting out of his mind. It was quite unsettling and he had a bad feeling.

  At breakfast the next morning, he told his host about the woman. His host went pale and quiet. John was worried and asked him why he was responding in such a way. He explained to him that the woman John had met was not a person but a ghost, the graveyard bride. She was notorious in the area for seeking out single men to marry. He said that it was a warning that he was not long for this world. He was advised to go and seek a priest to pray for his soul and that is what he did.

  He heard similar stories from other people in the locality and so he feared the worst. He travelled back to his home in the north of England and tried to live life as normal. He was so frightened that he became depressed and didn’t want to leave the house. He lost weight and couldn’t think of anything other than the date the graveyard bride had set for him.

  He knew he had to travel back to Monaghan on that exact date and meet his fate, so he thought that if he did so, he could persuade her to change her mind and maybe spare his life. This prospect gave him some hope.

  When he arrived back in Ireland, he made his way to the graveyard where he had first met the woman. At first she was not there and then he saw something in the corner of his eye darting from grave to grave – it was the bride, his bride-to-be.

  She threw her arms wide open and into them he fell.

  John Torney was found in Errigal Truagh graveyard the next day. His body was found lying lifeless on a tombstone, with the most terrifying look of terror etched onto his face.

  The inquest stated that he had died of a heart attack.

  The church that was beside the graveyard is now a ruin and there have been no such stories in recent times, maybe because no one would dare to walk alone in the graveyard if they believed the tale that has been passed down in the parish for generations. But it is said that the place is haunted still and that if, on a dark evening, you should take a look at the graveyard, you can still catch a glimpse of a white gown darting from grave to grave.

  In Irish Ghosts, Geddes and Grosset refer to William Carleton’s poem about the graveyard. They state that Carleton became familiar with the story after speaking with locals and that afterwards he felt compelled to write about what he had been told:

  I have been shown the grave of a young person about eighteen years of age, who was said to have fallen victim to the phantom, and it is not more than ten weeks since a man in the same parish declared that he gave a promise and fatal kiss to the ghost and consequently looked upon himself as lost. He took a fever and was buried on the day appointed for the meeting, which was exactly a month from the time of contact with the spirit.

  Friends of both men told Carleton that before the men passed away, they told the story of their meeting with the spirit in great detail. There was no variation between the two stories. Apparently, the spirit is sympathetic to the mourner, talks softly and tenderly and reassures the person that their deceased loved one is in a much happier place. The mourner becomes attracted to the spirit and forgets their grief. The attraction appears to be mutual and soon the two are holding hands and even kissing. When it is time to go, they arrange a time to meet again in the graveyard. As soon as the loving feelings wear off, the victim is filled with fear, but it is too late: the date is set, the date of their death.

  William Carleton wrote a poem about the graveyard bride called ‘Sir Turlough, or the Churchyard Bride’. When writing the poem, Carleton used the name ‘Killeevy’ instead of Errigal Truagh, which may simply have been because it fitted better with the rhyme.

  Given the similarities between the churchyard bride and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, it is thought that this folk tale may have been the inspiration for the famous vampire. It is a known fact that Bram Stoker visited Monaghan.

  Carleton’s use of the name ‘Killeevy’ may have been a reference to an ancient church and graveyard just over the border in Co. Armagh. The early convent of Killevy was founded towards the end of the fifth century by St Moninna, also known as Darerca or Bline, and part of it still stands today. It is known to be one of the earliest churches still in existence.

  Sir Turlough, or the Churchyard Bride

  THE BRIDE she bound her golden hair—

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  And her step was light as the breezy air

  When it bends the morning flowers so fair,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  And O, but her eyes they danced so bright,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  As she longed for the dawn of to-morrow’s light,

  Her bridal vows of love to plight,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  The bridegroom is come with youthful brow,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  To receive from his Eva her virgin vow;

  ‘Why tarries the bride of my bosom now?’

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  A cry! A cry!—’t was her maidens spoke,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  ‘Your bride is asleep—she has not awoke;

  And the sleep she sleeps will be never broke,’

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  Sir Turlough sank down with a heavy moan,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  And his cheek became like the marble stone—

  ‘O, the pulse of my heart is forever gone!’

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  The keen is loud, it comes again,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  And rises sad from the funeral train,

  As in sorrow it winds along the plain,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  Now the grave is closed, and the mass is said,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  And the bride she sleeps in her lonely bed,

  The fairest corpse among the dead,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  The wreaths of virgin-white are laid,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  By virgin hands, o’er the spotless maid;

  And the flowers are strewn, but they soon will fade

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  ‘O, go not yet—not yet away,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  Let us feel that life is near our clay,’

  The long-departed seem to say,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  But the tramp and the voices of life are gone,

  Killeevy,
O Killeevy!

  And beneath each cold forgotten stone,

  The mouldering dead sleep all alone,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  But who is he who lingereth yet?

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  The fresh green sod with his tears is wet,

  And his heart in the bridal grave is set,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  O, who but Sir Turlough, the young and brave,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  Should bend him o’er that bridal grave,

  And to his death-bound Eva rave,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  ‘Weep not—weep not,’ said a lady fair,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  ‘Should youth and valor thus despair,

  And pour their vows to the empty air?’

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  There’s charmed music upon her tongue,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  Such beauty—bright, and warm, and young—

  Was never seen the maids among,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  The charm is strong upon Turlough’s eye,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  His faithless tears are already dry,

  And his yielding heart has ceased to sigh,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  ‘To thee,’ the charmed chief replied,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  ‘I pledge that love o’er my buried bride;

  O, come, and in Turlough’s hall abide,’

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  Again the funeral voice came o’er

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  The passing breeze, as it wailed before,

  And streams of mournful music bore,

  By the bonnie green woods of Killeevy.

  ‘If I to thy youthful heart am dear,

  Killeevy, O Killeevy!

  One month from hence thou wilt meet me here,