Irish Gothic Fairy Stories

by Steve Lally

  Mr Kelleher: The time I lost my sight, it was a Thursday evening, and I was walking through the fields. I went to bed that night, and when I rose up in the morning, the sight was gone. The boys said it was likely I had walked on one of their paths. Those small little paths you see through the fields are made by them. They are very often in the quarries; they have great fun up there, and about Peacock Well. Peacock Well was blessed by a saint, and another well near, that cures the headache.

  I saw one time a big grey bird about the cow house, and I went to a comrade-boy and asked him to come and help me to catch it, but when we came back it was gone. It was very strange-looking and I thought that it had a head like a man.

  We feel that maybe the type of fairy that the couple had captured was a redcap – the wickedest type of fairies. Redcaps are known to live in old ruined castles and towers, and like to live alone. They are often described as old broad-shouldered men.

  According to Katharine Briggs, redcaps are not always bad; she tells of one who lived in Grantully Castle in Perthshire, he had a little room of his own at the top of the castle, and she said people felt lucky to have him around the place.

  In the interaction between the old man and woman it is clear that the man was fond of the fairy man despite regretting not keeping a hold of him, for he felt he could have brought him a windfall of some kind. The old woman was less trusting of him and was almost happy that he moved on. But they lived to tell the tale and nothing bad ever came of the couple and so they had that to be thankful for, for riches come in many packages and they were blessed to be sitting beside a warm open fire still talking and still sharing the stories of times gone by.

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  THE PROVINCE OF MUNSTER

  Co. Clare: From the Irish An Chláir, meaning ‘Plank Bridge’. Co. Clare is a place full of wonder and myth. It holds the oldest known evidence of human existence in all of Ireland after the bones of a bear butchered with prehistoric tools dating back to 10,500 BC was found in the Alice and Gwendoline Cave. Biddy Early (1798–1874), Ireland’s most famous (or infamous) fairy doctor, was born on Faha Ridge. Co. Clare is also the home of Brian Merriman (c.1747–1805), whose fairy masterpiece The Midnight Court is based in the county. The storyteller, author and collector of Irish fairy stories Eddie (Edmund) Lenihan is originally from Brosna, Co. Kerry, but now lives in Crushenn, Co. Clare.

  THE PALACE BELOW THE LAKE (CO. CLARE)

  We found the bones of this story in The School’s Collection in Duchas. Vol. 0589, p.105. The story was collected by Thomas J. Reidy, and it was told to him by a Michael Reidy from Tulla, Co. Clare.

  Long ago in the mountains of Snaiti (Snaty or Inis Snáite), about two miles outside Kilkishen, there lived a man named Pat O’Leary. Pat did not have very much in the line of possessions and wealth, in fact all he had to his name was a dairy cow. She was a good beast and produced plenty of fresh creamy milk, and Pat was very fond of her indeed.

  Pat hadn’t much to his name but his heart was full and he was a kind and gentle man. He had fallen deeply in love with a beautiful local girl who was known to the locals as ‘Dark-Haired Mary of the Mountain’. She had raven black hair and eyes as green as the sea, her skin was snow white, and whenever Pat thought of her his heart skipped a beat and he wondered of how lucky he was that such a creature could love a fella like him.

  He had proposed to Dark-Haired Mary of the Mountain, and she had accepted his proposal with much delight.

  But as we know, poor Pat had not much in the line of a dowry and he did not want to look poor and unworthy in front of Mary’s people. So there was only one thing for it, he would have to sell his only valuable possession, his fine dairy cow, and that was that. He decided to bring her to the Fair of Tulla and sell the animal to the highest bidder.

  He started off for Tulla early in the night or late in the day, whichever way you want to look at it, ’tis all the same.

  When he arrived at Cullane Lake it was midnight and the moon was shining in the sky like a big silver dollar. He decided to take a rest for both himself and the cow. As he was resting, a strange wee man came out of the shadows and he spoke to him kindly and gently. He said, ‘Pat, isn’t it early for you to be going to the fair?’

  Poor Pat was already shocked that this wee crathur had appeared out of nowhere in front of him, but now he had addressed him by his own name as if he knew him. He was a strange-looking little man, he looked both wise and youthful all at once, and he wore a jacket of velvet so green it shone, fine yellow britches, well-polished black boots and a red cap upon his head.

  ‘Don’t be afraid Pat, shure I am only here to help you. Come with me for I have a great many things to show you.’

  With that the wee man produced a hazel rod from under his jacket and he waved it before Pat. As soon as he did this, a magnificent palace rose up out of Cullane Lake.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ asked Pat, bewildered by what he saw.

  ‘Shure it was always there!’ said the wee man and laughed at the look of amazement on Pat’s face.

  The wee man then asked Pat to go into the palace and leave the cow outside. Pat had never seen the likes of this magnificent building, which shone and sparkled in the moonlight like a great diamond. It was like something from a dream and Pat pinched himself to make sure that he was not dreaming. The gates of the castle were made of pure gold and the steps up to it were carved from beautiful marble. When they entered the palace, they were greeted by hundreds of little footmen and servants all lined up and bowing to the strange wee man and his guest form the mortal world.

  Down the long hallway they went, until they came to a set of huge ornate doors. The doors swung open before them and Pat could not believe his eyes, for before him was the most beautiful hall he had ever seen, it must have been the size of three football fields. In this great hall were hundreds of dancers, musicians, singers and storytellers, all having the time of their lives. They all greeted the strange wee man and they were all very polite and courteous to Pat.

  There was music, dancing, and entertainment of all kinds there – Pat thought that he had died and gone to Heaven. But he knew fine rightly that he was not in Heaven, but the heart of a fairy kingdom and this wee man that he was with must be the king himself.

  He wished his true love Mary was there to share this wonderful experience with him and that she deserved all the magnificence and beauty that place had to offer.

  In the middle of the hall there was a huge table laden down with every sort and type of food and drink that you could imagine.

  Then he saw there was another table covered in buns, it reminded him of a story that he had heard from a farmer called Patsy McDermott from Killinkere in County Cavan. In his story he described a table with every type of bun that you could imagine: there was sticky buns, dry buns, sugary buns, sweet buns, hard buns, soft buns, short buns, long buns, big buns, little buns, flat buns, round buns, half buns, full buns, cream buns, iced buns, hot buns, cold buns, honey buns, big buns, little buns, jam buns, jelly buns, currant buns, cherry buns, apple buns, pear buns, banana buns, plum buns, custard buns, coffee buns, chocolate buns, buttered buns, burnt buns, frosted buns, nutty buns, chewy buns, triangle buns, square buns, fun buns, and, of course, fairy buns!

  Pat was invited to eat, but, knowing that he was in a fairy palace, he refused. It was said that if a person should eat with the fairies he or she could not leave them and Pat knew that. There was a big part of Pat that would have loved to have lived amongst the good folk, but he would be heartbroken if he was never to see his beautiful Mary again.

  At that point the strange wee man who Pat now recognised as the King of the Fairies told him it was time to leave and that they should go to the fair.

  They left the wonderful palace together and made their way to the fair. As soon as they did the King of the Fairies stopped in his tracks and spoke to Pat, and this is what he said: ‘Pat, I have been watching you for a long time now, and I have seen that you are a good man with a
good heart. You were willing to part with the only thing that was of any valve to you so that you might marry your one true love. I wish to buy this fine cow that has been reared and cared for with love and kindness. Its milk is the sweetest in all of Ireland and we the fairy folk like nothing more than a cup of sweet fresh milk.’

  With that the wee man produced a leather bag and gave it to Pat. He looked inside and it was full of pure, solid gold coins. Pat thanked the wee man, who disappeared with the cow. He knew not to tell a soul that it was fairy gold, for if he did it would turn to ashes or worse.

  When Pat got back to Snaiti the locals looked at him like they had seen a ghost. One woman fainted and another one blessed herself as he passed her. He thought that this was most peculiar. Shure he was only away for a few hours and no one was expecting him till the following day anyway. He called into his parents’ cottage and he was alarmed to see his mother cry out in horror and his father fall to his knees in prayer. What in Heaven’s name was going on? Had everybody gone mad?

  He went to his parents and reassured them that he was alright and asked them what all the drama was about. They told him that he had been gone for over a year and the last they heard of him was from a local farmer who saw him walk into Cullane Lake. They were sure that he had lost his mind and had taken his own life in the lake.

  This was a great shock to Pat, who believed that he had been away for only a few hours, half a day at most. But then time in the fairy world is a very different thing indeed. But sadly, he could not tell that he was taken by the fairies for folk would surely believe that he had gone insane.

  He told them that he had been captured by thieves but he had managed to escape with their gold and was keen to get home and see his dear parents and his one true love Mary.

  He asked where Mary was and he was told that she had gone into mourning and had hardly spoken a word to a soul since he had gone.

  When Pat heard this he ran as fast as his legs would carry him all the way up the mountain to where Mary lived with her parents. Her mother and father reacted in a similar fashion as those before and thought that he may be a phantom, cursed to roam the world as punishment for taking his own life. He reassured them as before that he was not a ghost or the living dead and he told him the tale of the robbers and how he had escaped.

  He went inside the house and sitting down by the unlit fire was Mary with a great black shawl draped over her head and shoulders. She sat crouched over like a very old woman.

  Pat called out to her and when she looked up she could not believe her eyes. Mary screamed and was about to fall to the floor with the shock of it all, when Pat caught her just in time.

  When she had settled herself, he looked into her eyes and said, ‘Dark Haired Mary of the Mountain, I have been away a long time and I have seen many things, beyond your wildest dreams.’ He told her that although he had seen so many magnificent things, nothing could compare to her beauty and his undying love for her. They kissed and that evening a wedding was set in progress and a great tent was erected – people came from all over to celebrate this wonderful occasion. And there was no concern about a dowry or comfort for the newlywed couple, for Pat had more wealth now than he could have ever imagined.

  After they were married Pat and Mary emigrated to America, where they lived long and happy lives together. Mary bore many children and their children’s children still live there and come over to visit Co. Clare once in a while to see where it all began with the love of a simple man and woman, and a wee bit of help from the fairy folk.

  Co. Cork: From the Irish Corcaigh from Corcach, meaning ‘Marsh’. The City of Cork was originally a monastic settlement set up by St Finbar in the sixth century and became a town between AD 915 and 922, when the Viking invaders built a port and trading post there. Co. Cork was also the home of the wise woman or fairy doctor Máire Ní Mhurchú. Its coastlines are well-known haunts for merrows (or mermaids). Along the south coast of Cork, just before Ross Carbery, is a wedge cairn and the locals call it Callaheenacladdig, which means ‘Hag of the Sea’ or ‘The Old Witch of the Shore’. East of Kilcatherine Point in Co. Cork you will find a stone that is meant to be the fossilised Cailleach Beara turned to stone. She is said to be waiting for her companion, the God of the Sea, Manannán mac Lir. The world-renowned folklorist Eileen O’Faolain (1902–1988), wife of the famous Irish writer Seán Ó Faoláin (1900–1991), was born in Co. Cork. The revered folklorist and poet Thomas Crofton Croker (1798–1854) was also born in Co. Cork.

  A FAR SPIN FOR TOBACCO (CO. CORK)

  We found this lovely story in a book called Folktales of Ireland (edited by Sean O’Sullivan, 1966). It’s called ‘Sean Palmer’s Voyage to America with the Fairies’. We have decided to call our version ‘A Far Spin for Tobacco’.

  Sean Palmer lived in Rineen Ban, Co. Cork. He had a small farm and owned a fishing boat. He didn’t have a big pile of money but had enough to get by. He lived a simple sort of life, he fished during the summer season, and enjoyed nothing more than a plate full of spuds and a puff of his pipe. He was married to Mary and they had three children. Sean was very fond of tobacco, and he loved his clay pipe. But where Sean and his family lived was remote and the nearest shop was miles away so tobacco was hard to come by, so Sean cherished every drag of that clay pipe.

  Have you ever heard of an egg woman? These were women who travelled around the countryside from house to house with goods that they sold in exchange for eggs. They had all the essentials that every household could not do without – soap, needles and pins and that all-important tobacco. They had what they called a ‘finger of tobacco’. They would measure the tobacco with the middle finger of their right hand from the tip to the knuckle. But on this particular occasion the egg woman didn’t show up. As you can imagine, Sean was getting really annoyed and was starting to take his anger out on his family because he needed his fix so badly.

  He decided to take matters into his own hands and headed off for the nearest shop. He had waited three days for the egg woman and was growing more restless and could see he was beginning to cause his family a lot of bother. He looked at his wife and said, ‘Mary, I can’t stand this any longer, I need tobacco.’ She agreed and so he headed off for Sean The Locks’. Sean The Locks’ was the nearest shop. Mary said to him, ‘Have your dinner before you go, and it will help you on your way,’ but Sean wasn’t hanging around any longer. He said, ‘This house won’t be worth living in if I stay here another minute.’ So off he went in search of his beloved smoke.

  He picked up his blackthorn stick and headed up the lane away from the cottage. Mary watched him go with a sense of both worry and relief. He had no shoes or socks on his feet and it was near dark and he had an angry head on him like he was on the warpath. You may think it strange that he had no shoes or socks upon his feet but back in those days shoes were kept for special occasions, like mass or fair days.

  As Sean approached the quay, he could see all the fishing boats and he saw two men. As he walked nearer he could hear his name being spoke. ‘That’s Sean Palmer, I know where he is headed,’ they said. His ears cocked up. ‘He has no tobacco.’ He waved at them and they both waved back. One of the men said to him, ‘We take it you don’t have any tobacco?’ Sean thought to himself, I must look desperate for a smoke and it must be written all over my troubled face. The other man went on to say, ‘Do you see those men down there in that wee boat? Go down to them and you will be sure to get your fill of tobacco.’

  Sean thought he was dreaming, sure it could never be that easy? Although he never had to go in search of tobacco before because the egg woman always supplied it. He saw that it was getting late and maybe he wouldn’t make Sean The Locks’ anyway so he thought to himself, if I get a pipe-full to tide me over sure that will do me grand. He was beginning to feel a little guilty for refusing to eat the dinner Mary had made for him, so he thought at least he could get enough for a few smokes and be home before the spuds went cold. He went down to the boat, smiled at the
two men in the boat and said to them, ‘I would be grateful if you could give me a smoke of tobacco, it’s been three days since I got a drag and I can’t stand it any longer.’

  ‘Of course,’ they said. ‘That you shall get, and plenty, and to spare’. They went on, ‘Step into the boat and take a seat.’ Sean couldn’t believe how decent the men were and so he took them up on the offer. He thought the least he could do was have a chat with them if they were giving him some tobacco. One of the men handed him his own pipe and said, ‘Here you are Sean, smoke that to your satisfaction.’ Sean couldn’t believe his luck. The pipe was lit up and glowing like a hot fire and Sean felt he had died and gone to heaven. Mary and her pot of spuds couldn’t have been further from his mind. Sean thanked them and puffed away until he was surrounded by a cloud of thick grey smoke. He thought to himself, this is the best pipe of tobacco I have ever smoked in my life. The two men that Sean first met at the quay where still standing on the pier and so the two men in the boat asked them to join them and so they did. So the boat soon had the five men inside and no sooner had their backsides hit the seats when the sails were up and ready for sail.

  ‘To the sea with you boys!’ shouted one of the men and they were off. Sean had no idea what was happening but sure he still had the pipe in his mouth so he went along with it, sure the men seemed to be friendly and they seemed to know what they were doing and they were generous so he tried not to worry too much. No one spoke for a while and it didn’t seem long before Sean saw lights in the near distance. He said to one of the men, ‘Are those the lights of the Lohar houses?’ The man had a smirk on his face. ‘Wait a while Sean and you will see much nicer houses than those of Lohar.’

  Sean was baffled. We have to remember that Sean had a boat of his own and he knew those waters better than the next fisherman. But for once he felt a little confused. He thought it was the amount of smoking that maybe had him all mixed up. He looked around him and said to the men, ‘There is Rineen Ban to the west’. The four men laughed in unison. ‘Och! God help you,’ said one of the men. ‘You are at New York Quay.’