Fairy Legends and Traditions of The South of Ireland Part 6

Jack was particularly nettled at this, and took up the cudgels for his grandmother; but the younkers were too sharp for him, and finally he got into a pa.s.sion, as people generally do who have the worst of an argument. This evening it was at their uncle's, an old crony of his, with whom he had dined--he had taken a large portion of his usual beverage, and was quite riotous. He at last got up in a pa.s.sion, ordered his horse, and, in spite of his host's entreaties, galloped off, although he had intended to have slept there; declaring that he would not have any thing more to do with a pair of jackanapes puppies, who, because they had learned how to read good-for-nothing books in cramp writing, and were taught by a parcel of wiggy, red-snouted, prating prigs, ("not," added he, "however, that I say a man may not be a good man and have a red nose,") they imagined they knew more than a man who had held buckle and tongue together facing the wind of the world for five dozen years.

He rode off in a fret, and galloped as hard as his horse Shaunbuie could powder away over the limestone. "Yes, indeed!" muttered he, "the brats had me in one thing--I never did see a fairy; and I would give up five as good acres as ever grew apple-potatoes to get a glimpse of one--and by the powers! what is that?"

He looked, and saw a gallant spectacle. His road lay by a n.o.ble demesne, gracefully sprinkled with trees, not thickly planted as in a dark forest, but disposed, now in clumps of five or six, now standing singly, towering over the plain of verdure around them as a beautiful promontory arising out of the sea. He had come right opposite the glory of the wood. It was an oak, which in the oldest t.i.tle-deeds of the county, and they were at least five hundred years old, was called the old oak of Ballingha.s.sig. Age had hollowed its centre, but its ma.s.sy boughs still waved with their dark serrated foliage. The moon was s.h.i.+ning on it bright. If I were a poet, like Mr. Wordsworth, I should tell you how the beautiful light was broken into a thousand different fragments--and how it filled the entire tree with a glorious flood, bathing every particular leaf, and showing forth every particular bough; but, as I am not a poet, I shall go on with my story. By this light Jack saw a brilliant company of lovely little forms dancing under the oak with an unsteady and rolling motion. The company was large. Some spread out far beyond the farthest boundary of the shadow of the oak's branches--some were seen glancing through the flashes of light s.h.i.+ning through its leaves--some were barely visible, nestling under the trunk--some, no doubt, were entirely concealed from his eyes. Never did man see any thing more beautiful. They were not three inches in height, but they were white as the driven snow, and beyond number numberless. Jack threw the bridle over his horse's neck, and drew up to the low wall which bounded the demesne, and leaning over it, surveyed with infinite delight, their diversified gambols. By looking long at them, he soon saw objects which had not struck him at first; in particular that in the middle was a chief of superior stature, round whom the group appeared to move. He gazed so long that he was quite overcome with joy, and could not help shouting out: "Bravo! little fellow," said he, "well kicked and strong." But the instant he uttered the words the night was darkened, and the fairies vanished with the speed of lightning.

"I wish," said Jack, "I had held my tongue; but no matter now. I shall just turn bridle about and go back to Ballybegmullinahone Castle, and beat the young Master Whaleys, fine reasoners as they think themselves, out of the field clean."

No sooner said than done: and Jack was back again as if upon the wings of the wind. He rapped fiercely at the door, and called aloud for the two collegians.

"Halloo!" said he, "young Flatcaps, come down, if you dare. Come down, if you dare, and I shall give you _oc-oc-_ocular demonstration of the truth of what I was saying."

Old Whaley put his head out of the window, and said, "Jack Mulligan, what brings you back so soon?"

"The fairies," shouted Jack; "the fairies!"

"I am afraid," muttered the Lord of Ballybegmullinahone, "the last gla.s.s you took was too little watered; but, no matter--come in and cool yourself over a tumbler of punch."

He came in and sat down again at table. In great spirits he told his story;--how he had seen thousands and tens of thousands of fairies dancing about the old oak of Ballingha.s.sig; he described their beautiful dresses of s.h.i.+ning silver; their flat-crowned hats, glittering in the moonbeams; and the princely stature and demeanour of the central figure. He added, that he heard them singing and playing the most enchanting music; but this was merely imagination. The young men laughed, but Jack held his ground. "Suppose," said one of the lads, "we join company with you on the road, and ride along to the place, where you saw that fine company of fairies?"

"Done!" cried Jack; "but I will not promise that you will find them there, for I saw them scudding up in the sky like a flight of bees, and heard their wings whizzing through the air." This, you know, was a bounce, for Jack had heard no such thing.

Off rode the three, and came to the demesne of Oakwood. They arrived at the wall flanking the field where stood the great oak; and the moon, by this time, having again emerged from the clouds, shone bright as when Jack had pa.s.sed. "Look there," he cried, exultingly: for the same spectacle again caught his eyes, and he pointed to it with his horsewhip; "look, and deny if you can."

"Why," said one of the lads, pausing, "true it is that we do see a company of white creatures; but were they fairies ten times over, I shall go among them;" and he dismounted to climb over the wall.

"Ah, Tom! Tom," cried Jack, "stop, man, stop! what are you doing? The fairies--the good people, I mean--hate to be meddled with. You will be pinched or blinded; or your horse will cast its shoe; or--look! a wilful man will have his way. Oh! oh! he is almost at the oak--G.o.d help him! for he is past the help of man."

By this time Tom was under the tree, and burst out laughing. "Jack,"

said he, "keep your prayers to yourself. Your fairies are not bad at all. I believe they will make tolerably good catsup."

"Catsup," said Jack, who, when he found that the two lads (for the second had followed his brother) were both laughing in the middle of the fairies, had dismounted and advanced slowly--"What do you mean by catsup?"

"Nothing," replied Tom, "but that they are mushrooms (as indeed they were:) and your Oberon is merely this overgrown puff-ball."

Poor Mulligan gave a long whistle of amazement, staggered back to his horse without saying a word, and rode home in a hard gallop, never looking behind him. Many a long day was it before he ventured to face the laughers at Ballybegmullinahone; and to the day of his death the people of the parish, ay, and five parishes round called him nothing but musharoon Jack, such being their p.r.o.nunciation of mushroom.

I should be sorry if all my fairy stories ended with so little dignity: but--

"These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air--into thin air."

The name SHEFRO, by which the foregoing section is distinguished, literally signifies a fairy house or mansion, and is adopted as a general name for the Elves who are supposed to live in troops or communities, and were popularly supposed to have castles or mansions of their own.--See _Stewart's Popular Superst.i.tions of the Highlands_, 1823, pp. 90, 91, &c.

_Sia_, _sigh_, _sighe_, _sigheann_, _siabhra_, _siachaire_, _siogidh_, are Irish words, evidently springing from a common Celtic root, used to express a fairy or goblin, and even a hag or witch. Thus we have the compounds _Leannan-sighe_, a familiar, from _Leannan_, a pet, and _Sioghdhraoidheachd_, enchantment with or by spirits.

_Sigh gaoithe_ or _siaheann-gaoithe_, a whirlwind, is so termed because it is said to be raised by the fairies. The close of day called _Sia_, because twilight,

"That sweet hour, when day is almost closing,"

is the time when the fairies are most frequently seen. Again, _Sigh_ is a hill or hillock, because the fairies are believed to dwell within. _Sidhe_, _sidheadh_, and _sigh_, are names for a blast or blight, because it is supposed to proceed from the fairies.

The term _Shoges_, i.e. _Sigh oges_ (young or little spirits,) Fairies, is used in a curious poem printed under the name of "The Irish Hudibras," 1689, pp. 23, and 81; a copy of which, ent.i.tled "The Fingallian Travesty," is among the Sloane MSS.

No. 900. In the Third Part of O'Flaherty's Ogygia, it is related that St. Patrick and some of his followers, who were chanting matins beside a fountain, were taken for "_Sidhe_, or fairies," by some pagan ladies.

"The Irish," according to the Rev. James Hely's translation of O'Flaherty, "call these _Sidhe_, aerial spirits or phantoms, because they are seen to come out of pleasant hills, where the common people imagine they reside, which fict.i.tious habitations are called by us _Sidhe_ or _Siodha_."

For a similar extended use of the German word _Alp_, _Elf_, &c.

see Introductory Essay to the Grimms' _Irische Elfenmarchen_, pp. 55-62.

LEGENDS OF THE CLURICAUNE.

"----------------- That sottish elf Who quaffs with swollen lips the ruby wine, Draining the cellar with as free a hand As if it were his purse which ne'er lacked coin;-- And then, with feign'd contrition ruminates Upon his wasteful pranks, and revelry, In some secluded dell or lonely grove Tinsel'd by Twilight."-- ?

THE HAUNTED CELLAR.

IX.

There are few people who have not heard of the Mac Carthies--one of the real old Irish families, with the true Milesian blood running in their veins, as thick as b.u.t.termilk. Many were the clans of this family in the south; as the Mac Carthy-more--and the Mac Carthy-reagh--and the Mac Carthy of Muskerry; and all of them were noted for their hospitality to strangers, gentle and simple.

But not one of that name, or of any other, exceeded Justin Mac Carthy, of Ballinacarthy, at putting plenty to eat and drink upon his table; and there was a right hearty welcome for every one who would share it with him. Many a wine-cellar would be ashamed of the name if that at Ballinacarthy was the proper pattern for one; large as that cellar was, it was crowded with bins of wine, and long rows of pipes, and hogsheads, and casks, that it would take more time to count than any sober man could spare in such a place, with plenty to drink about him, and a hearty welcome to do so.

There are many, no doubt, who will think that the butler would have little to complain of in such a house; and the whole country round would have agreed with them, if a man could be found to remain as Mr.

Mac Carthy's butler for any length of time worth speaking of; yet not one who had been in his service gave him a bad word.

"We have no fault," they would say, "to find with the master; and if he could but get any one to fetch his wine from the cellar, we might every one of us have grown gray in the house, and have lived quiet and contented enough in his service until the end of our days."

"'Tis a queer thing that, surely," thought young Jack Leary, a lad who had been brought up from a mere child in the stables of Ballinacarthy to a.s.sist in taking care of the horses, and had occasionally lent a hand in the butler's pantry:--"'tis a mighty queer thing, surely, that one man after another cannot content himself with the best place in the house of a good master, but that every one of them must quit, all through the means, as they say, of the wine-cellar. If the master, long life to him! would but make me his butler, I warrant never the word more would be heard of grumbling at his bidding to go to the wine-cellar."

Young Leary accordingly watched for what he conceived to be a favourable opportunity of presenting himself to the notice of his master.

A few mornings after, Mr. Mac Carthy went into his stable-yard rather earlier than usual, and called loudly for the groom to saddle his horse, as he intended going out with the hounds. But there was no groom to answer, and young Jack Leary led Rainbow out of the stable.

"Where is William?" inquired Mr. Mac Carthy.

"Sir?" said Jack; and Mr. Mac Carthy repeated the question.

"Is it William, please your honour?" returned Jack; "why, then, to tell the truth, he had just _one_ drop too much last night."

"Where did he get it?" said Mr. Mac Carthy; "for since Thomas went away, the key of the wine-cellar has been in my pocket, and I have been obliged to fetch what was drank myself."

"Sorrow a know I know," said Leary, "unless the cook might have given him the _least taste_ in life of whiskey. But," continued he, performing a low bow by seizing with his right hand a lock of hair, and pulling down his head by it, whilst his left leg which had been put forward, was sc.r.a.ped back against the ground, "may I make so bold as just to ask your honour one question?"

"Speak out, Jack," said Mr. Mac Carthy.