16th century Irish missal – the Bodleian Libraryhttps://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ Ancient Legends, Mystic Charms, and Superstitions of Ireland
Lady Francesca Speranza Wilde (1887)
Fairy Music (abridged)
A fairy glance does not kill, but it throws the person into a death-like trance. Their body is carried off to some fairy mansion, while a log of wood, or some ugly, deformed creature is left in its place, clothed with the shadow of the stolen form. Young women, remarkable for beauty, young men, and handsome children, are the chief victims of the fairy stroke. The girls are wedded to fairy chiefs, and the young men to fairy queens; and if the mortal children do not turn out well, they are sent back, and others carried off in their place.
It is sometimes possible, by the spells of a powerful fairy-man, to bring back a living being from Fairy-land. But they are never quite the same after. They have always a spirit-look, especially if they have listened to the fairy music. For the fairy music is soft and low and plaintive, with a fatal charm for mortal ears.
One day a gentleman entered a cabin in the County Clare, and saw a young girl about twenty seated by the fire, chanting a melancholy song, without settled words or music. On inquiry he was told she had once heard the fairy harp, and those who hear it lose all memory of love or hate, and forget all things, and never more have any other sound in their ears save the soft music of the fairy harp, and when the spell is broken, they die.
It is remarkable that the Irish national airs–plaintive, beautiful, and unutterably pathetic–should so perfectly express the spirit of the Céol-Sidhe (the fairy music), as it haunts the fancy of the people and mingles with all their traditions of the spirit world. Wild and capricious as the fairy nature, these delicate harmonies, with their mystic, mournful rhythm, seem to touch the deepest chords of feeling, or to fill the sunshine with laughter, according to the mood of the players.
Above all things, Irish music is the utterance of a Divine sorrow; not stormy or passionate, but like that of an exiled spirit, yearning and wistful, vague and unresting; ever seeking the unattainable, ever shadowed, as it were, with memories of some lost good, or some dim foreboding of a coming fate–emotions that seem to find their truest expression in the sweet, sad, lingering wail of the pathetic minor in a genuine Irish air.
There is a beautiful phrase in one of the ancient manuscripts descriptive of the wonderful power of Irish music over the sensitive human organization: “Wounded men were soothed when they heard it, and slept; and women in travail forgot their pains.”
Photo: Greg Skomal/NOAA Fisheries Service Wikipedia.orghttps://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ The Argus 11th March, 1851 p4
ANOTHER EXTRAORDINARY FISH STORY (abridged)
A short time since, no small excitement was produced in Londonderry by a report that the Fenella iron steamer, on its way down the lough, had been piratically attacked off Ennishowen Head by some indescribable animal. It seized the vessel by the bow with its jaws and dragged it all the way into Portrush harbour – the very port to which the vessel was bound. The terror of the passengers and crew was greatly augmented by beholding the creature preparing to board. They were saved from the cruellest of all imaginable deaths by the prompt interposition of a party of the constabulary. With repeated volleys they compelled the monster to a hasty retreat.
It seems that when the Fenella was at the tail of the Tons, nearly opposite to Downhill, those on board felt as if she had grazed upon something, which they supposed might be a sunken wreck, though from the depth of the water, that was scarcely possible. Some observed an agitation about the bow as if caused by a huge animal. When the Fenella reached Portrush harbour (about seven miles further) it was observed by those on shore, as well as some on board, that an enormous fish had hold of the vessel by the bow with its jaws. It turned out that the marks of its teeth were distinctly imprinted in the paint of the bow (which, like the rest of the vessel is of iron).
It was then twilight, so that its shape could not be well observed; but it was judged to be fourteen teet in length, and of a very dark colour. We think that it may have been one of the basking sharks which are common off the coast of Galway.
Londonderry journal.
Irish spinning wheel – c 1900 Library of Congress Collection.https://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ Celtic Fairy Tales
Selected and edited by Joseph Jacobs (1892)
from Project Gutenberg
THE HORNED WOMEN (abridged)
One night a woman sat alone by her hearth carding and preparing wool. It was a wild night outside, scattering briar and twig against the door of her cottage. Suddenly above the wind she heard the clatter of a hard fist on the door frame. A low, husky voice called, “Open! open!”
“Who’s there?” said the woman of the house.
“I am the Witch of one Horn, bid me enter.”
The mistress, startled and confused by the sudden interruption, opened the door. A woman entered, tall and wild, her black hair flying loose around her face. In her hand was a pair of wool-carders. On her forehead was a horn growing from a ridge between her brows.
She nodded abruptly at the woman of the house, sat down by the fire in silence, and began to card the wool with violent haste. The woman of the house closed the door quietly and returned to resume her work. If truth be known, she had little option as she feared this new presence in her home.
After a while the one horned woman paused in her work, and said aloud: “Where are the women? they delay too long.”
She had hardly spoken when a second knock came to the door, and a voice called as before, ”Open! open!”
Again the mistress felt herself obliged to rise and open to the call, and immediately a second witch entered, having two horns on her forehead, and in her hand a wheel for spinning wool.
“Give me place,” she said; “I am the Witch of the two Horns,” and she began to spin as quick as lightning.
And so the knocks went on, and the call was heard, and the witches entered, until at last twelve women sat round the fire—the first with one horn, the last with twelve horns.
And they carded the thread, and turned their spinning-wheels, and wound and wove, all singing together an ancient rhyme, but no word did they speak to the mistress of the house. Strange to hear, and frightful to look upon, were these twelve women, with their horns and their wheels; and the mistress felt near to death, and she tried to rise that she might call for help, but she could not move, nor could she utter a word or a cry, for the spell of the witches was upon her. Her family had succumbed to the spell also, for despite the clamour in the kitchen, they could not be woken. Antlered figure holding a serpent and a torc, depicted on the Gundestrup cauldron. (c. 200BC-300AD) The Gundestrup cauldron is housed at the National Museum of Denmark.One of the witches called to her in Irish, and said, “Rise, woman, and make us a cake.”
The mistress did as she was bid, glad of a reason to put some space between herself and her callers. She searched for a vessel to bring water from the well that she might mix the meal and make the cake, but she could find none.
With barely a glance in her direction, the one horned witch said, “Take a sieve and bring water in it.”
Against her better judgement the woman took the sieve and went to the well. Naturally the water poured from it as quickly as it was filled. She could fetch none for the cake. Finally, overcome by the horror and strangeness of her evening, the poor woman sat down by the well and wept. Her pain was felt.
From out of the mist that encircled her a voice spoke softly. It said, “Take yellow clay and moss, and bind them together, and plaster the sieve so that it will hold.”
This she did, and the sieve held the water for the cake. The voice spoke again:
“Return, and when thou comest to the north angle of the house, cry aloud three times and say, ‘The mountain of the Fenian women and the sky over it is all on fire.'”
And she did so.
When the witches inside heard the call, a great and terrible cry broke from their lips, and they rushed outside with wild lamentations and shrieks. Without acknowledgement or gesture they hurled past the women fled to Slievenamon, their home.
The voice spoke again – it was the Spirit of the Well who had helped her before. She bade the mistress of the house to prepare and protect her home against the enchantments of the witches should they return.
First, to break their spells, she sprinkled water in which she had washed her child’s feet, onto her threshold. Then she took the cake which in her absence the witches had made of meal mixed with the blood drawn from the sleeping family, and she broke it in bits. Each of the pieces she placed a bit in the mouths of her children and they were restored. She took the cloth the witches had woven, and placed it half in and half out of the chest with the padlock.
Finally, she secured the door with a great crossbeam fastened in the jambs, so that the witches could not enter. And she waited.
The witches came back. Finding their access barred they raged and called for vengeance.
“Open! open!” they screamed; “open, water!”
“I cannot,” said the water; “I am scattered on the ground, and my path is down to the Lough.”
“Open, open, wood and trees and beam!” they cried to the door.
“I cannot,” said the door, “for the beam is fixed in the jambs and I have no power to move.”
“Open, open, cake that we have made and mingled with blood!” they cried again.
“I cannot,” said the cake, “for I am broken and bruised, and my blood is on the lips of the sleeping children.”
The witches rushed through the air with great cries, and fled back to Slievenamon, uttering strange curses on the Spirit of the Well, who had wished their ruin. The woman and the house were left in peace, and a mantle dropped by one of the witches in her flight was kept hung up by the mistress in memory of that night. This mantle was kept by the same family from generation to generation for five hundred years after.
Alexander Hamilton- Aaron Burr Duel Gutenberg File of 1902 Book Wikipedia.orghttps://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ Launceston Advertiser 2nd November 1843
IRISH DUELLING (abridged)
No gentleman had taken his proper station in life till he had “smelt powder,” as it was called; and no barrister could go circuit till he had obtained a reputation in this way; no election, and scarcely an assizes, passed without a number of duels; and many men of the bar, practising half a century ago owed their eminence, not to powers of eloquence or to legal ability, but to a daring spirit, and the number of duels they had fought.
It was no unusual thing for the opposite counsel to fall out in court in discussing a legal point, retire to a neighbouring field, settle it with pistols, and then return to court to resume the argument in a more peaceable manner.
The public mind was in such a state of irritation from the period of 1780 to the time of the union, that it was supposed that three hundred remarkable duels were fought in Ireland during that interval. Counties or districts became distinguished for their dexterity at the weapons used – Galway for the sword; Tipperary, Roscommon and Sligo for the pistol; Mayo for equal skill in both.
Weapons of offence were generally kept at the inns for the accommodation of those who might come on an emergency unprovided. In such cases, ‘pistols were ordered for two, and breakfast for one,’ as it might and did, sometimes happen, that the other did not return to partake of it, being left dead in the field.
The laws by which duelling is punishable were then as severe as now, but such was the spirit of the times, that they remained a dead letter. No prosecution ensued, or if it even did, no conviction would follow. Every man on the jury was himself probably a duellist, and would not find his brother guilty.
Galway Hookers Wikipedia.orghttps://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ COLONIAL TIMES 5TH NOVEMBER, 1844
EXTRAORDINARY OUTRAGE IN THE BAY OF GALWAY
On Tuesday, the 25th ult, while Mr J. H. Hynes, of New Quay, and the Rev Mr Fullam, Protestant clergyman, were out traul fishing, with a crew of three men, in the Bay of Galway, a fleet consisting of 80 to 100 boats from the Galway Claddagh, bore down on them, and nine or ten of the boats having surrounded the fishing boat, 50 0r 60 of the Claddagh fishermen suddenly boarded her, and, after cutting away the traul, rushed on Mr Hynes and his party with the most awful imprecations and savage yells, armed with open knives, poles etc., knocked them down, beat them most unmercifully, leaving them apparently lifeless on the deck.
Then then cut down the sails, which along with the anchor, cables, ropes, poles and oars, they threw overboard. Finally they tore up the deck, and with the stones that formed the ballast, made many fruitless attempts to scuttle the boat, after which they departed, leaving her a complete wreck to drift along the sea.
Fortunately she was rescued from her perilous situation by a New Quay boat, and towed into harbour. An investigation was held on Monday, at Correnrue, concerning this most daring outrage, before Messers Bell and Kernan, stipendiary magistrates, and G. Macnamara, Esq., J.P. Harbour – Hill. Although the lives of two of the crew and that of Mr Hynes were considered in imminent danger for four or five days, they are now supposed to be convalescent.
Clare Journal
https://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ THE MAITLAND MERCURY AND HUNTER RIVER GENERAL ADVERTISER 29TH JUNE, 1844
WAR STEAMERS ON THE IRISH LAKES
It is stated by an Irish paper that government have it in contemplation to place war steam boats upon all the large lakes in Ireland. A number are now being erected in Liverpool for this purpose and one is expected upon Lough Corrib early in spring. This will be the first step towards the navigation and other improvements of the lake, and thus open an immediate communication between Galway and the surrounding districts of Headford, Cong, Ballinrobe, Westport – in fact, the entire shores along this extensive and beautiful lake.Lough Corrib Photo: Jlahorn Wikipedia.org
Image from Hetzel copy of Twenty thousand leagues under the sea (Jules Verne) Wikipedia.orghttps://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ SUNDAY TIMES (PERTH) 23RD JUNE, 1935
SEA MONSTER SHOT – MYSTERY CREATURE WITH TWO TAILS
A strange marine creature, twin brother of the Loch Ness monster – 48 feet long, 26 feet in circumference and weighing about four tons, has been shot by a lighthouse keeper in Galway Bay, Ireland.
The sea monster had got caught in the nets of one of the fishing boats off Mutton Island lighthouse. It carried boat and cargo, human and aquatic, for some distance until the nets gave way in shreds. A description of the monster seen once above the surface roused the entire city. Seamen and harbor officials immediatey proceeded to the beach armed with guns and gaffs.
FIVE SHOTS, THEN –
I went out in a hooker piloted by John Walsh, an old seaman of vast experience (writes the correspondent of “The People”).
As we approached Mutton Island in miserably cold rain five shots rang out from the direction of the lighthouse. We were just in time to see an aquatic King Kong leap bodily into the air, lashing the water into a miniature tidal wave as it rolled and twisted in its death agony. We anchored to one of the monster’s giant fins and John Crowley the lighthouse keeper, who had fired the shot explained that he spotted it while about to tend the lamps in the lighthouse. Rushing down armed with a rifle he took careful aim and shot the creature in the head several times.
TWO KNIFE-EDGED TAILS
Opinions were divided as to the nature of the strange creature. Crowley and my companion agreed it was neither shark nor whale. Walsh stated that in 50 odd years’ marine experience he had never come across a similar specimen.
It has a head of enormous dimensions, a long scaly body ending in two knife edged tails It is suspected that more than one of these strange creatures are in Galway Bay.
https://widgetworld3.wordpress.com/podcasts/ Pope Clement VII – (Giulio di Giuliano de’Medici) by Sebastiano del Piombo – circa 1531THE EXAMINER, 26TH MAY, 1849 P4
BRIAN BOROIHME’S HARP
It is well known that the great monarch Brian Boroihme (Boru) was killed at the battle of Clontarf A.D. 1014. He left his son Donagh his harp, but Donagh having murdered his brother, Teige, and being deposed by his nephew, retired to Rome, and carried with him the crown, harp and other regalia of his father. These regalia were kept in the Vatican, till Pope Clement sent the harp to Henry VIII, but kept the crown which was of massive gold.
Henry gave the harp to the first Earl of Clanricarde, in whose family it remained until the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it came by a lady of the De Burgh family into that of McMahon of Glenagh in the county of Clare. Following his death it passed into the possession of Consellor (sic.) McNamara of Limerick.
In 1780 it was presented to the Right Hon. William Conyham who deposited it in Trinity College Museum where it now is. It is thirty-two inches high and of good workmanship – the sounding board is of oak, the arms of red sally – the extremity of the uttermost arm in part is capped with silver, well wrought and chiselled. It contains a large crystal set in silver, and under it was another stone now lost.
Tipperary Free Press
The Burren and Beyond 