Down Folk Tales E-Book

Steve Lally

• Herausgeber: THP Ireland
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

County Down, where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea, has a rich heritage of myths and legends which is uniquely captured in this collection of tales by local storyteller Steve Lally. Discover the trails were the outlaw Redmond O'Halon was said to once roam, the road where you might come across the Ghost Girl of Ballymullan, and the cliffs from which a young girl called Maggie once made a desperate and death-defying leap. Along with the tales of the changeling of Glascar, the Giant of Lisburn and the visit old Auld Nick once paid to an old woman in Downpatrick. These stores, illustrated with twenty-five line drawings, bring alive the counties dramatic landscape and is sure to appeal to both residents and tourists alike.

Leseprobe

This book is dedicated to my beautiful little daughter, Isabella Grace, for she is the measure of my dreams.

I would also like to dedicate this book to the memory of my father, Patrick John Lally, 1945-1993, who always believed in me.

And my grandmother, Margaret Power-King, who died in 1982, who was both a great storyteller and inspiration.

Finally to my friend Peter Shortall, who sadly passed through ‘the etheral wall’ in 2011. ‘I did it Shortie!’

CONTENTS

Title Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

1 The Rapparee: Redmond O’Hanlon

2 The Demon Chieftain

3 Auld Nick’s Horn

4 St Donard

5 The Gillhall Ghost

6 The Con-Man

7 Squire Hawkins

8 The Haunted Bridge

9 Francis Crozier and the Search for the North-West Passage

10 Iveagh and the Grate

11 Haddock’s Ghost

12 Billy and the Changeling of Glascar

13 Alexander Sloane

14 The Ghost Girl of Ballymullan

15 Maggie’s Leap

16 The Lisburn Giant

17 The Solemn Death of Bernard McCann

18 Black Dermod

19 A Poetical Description of Down

20 The Hilltown Fairy Tales

21 The Fairy Tree

Copyright

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Jason Diamond, Genealogy and Heritage Officer, Banbridge District Council, for pointing me in the right direction.

All the staff at the Banbridge Library, County Down.

Evelyn Hanna, area manager, Libraries NI.

Briege Stitt at the Heritage Gallery in Downpatrick Library, County Down.

The staff at the Millennium Court Art Centre for all their support.

Emma Hirsk for the use of her laptop; And bringing Isabella into my life.

Liz Weir, master storyteller and mentor, for her inspiration and salvation.

Seamus McCormick and the Sacred Heart Boxing Club ‘Descended from Kings!’

Ciaran Gallagher, artist, for photographing and documenting all the illustrations.

Kevin Woods, ‘The Leprechaun Whisperer’.

My good friend Florian Schanz for all his wisdom.

Jon and Tracy Barker, for their Keen and Golden Eye.

James Fulton, for his enthusiasm and friendship.

Evi O’Halloran for her enlightenment and guidance.

To all my family and friends.

Lastly, but by no means least, I would like to thank all those who ever listened to me tell a story, booked me and believed in me, as without you this would all still be a dream.

1

THE RAPPAREE: REDMOND O’HANLON

A shepherd that lives in Slieve Gullion

Came down to the County Tyrone.

And told us how Redmond O’Hanlon

Won’t leave the rich Saxon alone.

(Anon)

It’s said that the first of the legendary English ‘highwaymen’ were royalist officers who ‘took to the road’ when they were outlawed under the Commonwealth. These were men familiar with the relatively newfangled pistols, which gave them an advantage over their victims, armed only with swords.

Perhaps because they concentrated on the wealthy, the highwaymen became popular heroes. No one, except the victims, grieved when the dukes and lords were held up with the immortal words, ‘Stand and deliver, your money or your life’. In fact, some of these infamous highwaymen such as Dick Turpin, James Maclaine and Claude Duval held a celebrity status.

Here in Ireland we had our own legendary highwaymen known as ‘rapparees’ and ‘tories’ (Toraidhe). Both names are of Irish origin, the former meaning ‘plunderers or destroyers’ and the latter signifying that such outlaws who committed these heinous crimes were ‘hunted’ or ‘wanted men’.

These men were products of the confiscation of lands from the native Irish. These dispossessed landowners were, to say the least, vengeful and many of them, like their English counterparts, were trained in the art of war.

They took themselves to the nearest woods, bogs or mountains, and honed their martial skills in order to bring down the unwelcome foreigners.

There was no mercy shown to these outlaws; they were pursued, hunted down and shot when captured. Their heads carried off to obtain rewards that were offered by the English rulers. Official documents state that this was a thing of weekly, sometimes daily, occurrence.

Of all the Rapparees of Ireland, the most famous, was Redmond O’Hanlon (c. 1620-25 April 1681). His name and his deeds are still vividly remembered today in the counties of Louth, Armagh, Monaghan and of course County Down. The writer William Carleton made him the central character of his 1862 novel Redmond Count O’Hanlon: The Irish Rapparee. But Carleton’s story is mainly fiction, smattered with facts and loosely based on O’Hanlon’s life.

O’Hanlon was one of those ‘noble fugitives’ driven into rebellion and transgression by English policy in Ireland. He was the chief of Orior, in County Armagh, claimed to be hereditary royal standard-bearer north of the Boyne. He was the son of Loughlin O’Hanlon, rightful heir to Tandragee Castle, now home to the popular snack food ‘Tayto Crisps’.

In 1653, under the Parliament of the Commonwealth, the O’Hanlon lands were taken from them and the family was sent to Connacht, where they received a small pittance of land. At the Restoration in 1660, Hugh O’Hanlon petitioned to have their lands restored, but this was in vain.

Redmond O’Hanlon, probable brother of Hugh, took to the hills, vowing ‘vengeance, black and bitter’ against the ‘Horde of Undertakers’ that now held the best lands in Ulster. Many other dispossessed Irishmen flocked to his banner. Amongst these men were Protestant landlords, militia officers, and even Anglican and Catholic priests, who would work as informal members of his gang, giving him inside information and casing places for him to raid.

For twenty years he kept the settlers in the counties of Louth, Armagh, Monaghan and Down in terror. Many of the big farmers were paying him regular contributions for protection from all other tories. A letter from the era states that O’Hanlon’s activities were bringing in more money than the King’s revenue collectors. He was as shrewd a businessman as he was a bandit.

According to letters by St Oliver Plunkett, O’Hanlon increased in public favour as the colonial militia who were sent to capture him spent more time looting and pillaging the peasantry than actively looking for him. Those who did come across him did not live to tell the tale. It seemed that none would oppose him either through loyalty, admiration or fear.

It is said that O’Hanlon was never outwitted, except for one time by a country lad who was servant to a merchant shopkeeper in Dundalk, County Louth. This merchant had a debt of a couple of hundred pounds owed to him by another merchant in Newry, County Down. The Dundalk man wanted the money, but Redmond O’Hanlon held the country between Dundalk and Newry and so no man with either money or valuables would dare pass through that way.

The servant lad who worked for the Dundalk merchant had often heard his master complain and moan about the fact he could not get his money, so he offered to go to Newry to collect the debt. The master had perfect faith in the youth’s honesty and integrity, but would not hear of such a dangerous and insane proposal.

But many months passed by and the young man’s self-confidence and eagerness for adventure kept growing and in the end his master consented to his undertaking the dangerous mission.

He supplied the boy with pistols and ammunition, but to his surprise the boy insisted on taking an old slow-going grey nag, instead of the best racehorse in the stables. The youth set out and in less than half an hour he found himself winding his way through the craggy trails of the Fews Mountains. He was in no hurry and he whistled as he went, for he wanted to be seen. He travelled a long distance without meeting a single soul, kept company only by the wind rustling the leaves on the trees, the sound of his horse’s hooves trudging below him and the occasional cry from a wild animal or bird.

He was beginning to fear that his plan might fail, when he heard the sound of thundering hooves, and soon saw the notorious Redmond O’Hanlon dashing towards him. He was mounted on a magnificent black stallion. The boy feigned fear and even made a weak attempt to gallop back home on the old mare, but in a moment O’Hanlon was beside him.

He asked the lad who he was, where he was coming from and what the purpose of his journey was. The boy answered all these questions frankly and truly and with every expression of great innocence. Then he confidently told his interrogator that there was just one thing he was afraid of, and that was being robbed by Redmond O’Hanlon.

The stranger assured him that he would protect him from this danger and having asked the boy when he expected to return, the boy told him with every show of confidence.

The youth was then given free passage and made his way to Newry, where he got the money for his master. Before returning, however, he got two or three pounds changed into copper, which he carried in a large leather bag, holding the remainder of the money secretly on his person. Then he proceeded to make his way home and, as expected, he encountered O’Hanlon again at the appointed meeting place.

On learning that he had got the money, O’Hanlon demanded the cash at once. The poor boy pleaded hard, but in vain. O’Hanlon produced his pistol and uttered the words, ‘Stand and deliver, your money or your life’. At last, with an air of desperation, the boy shouted, ‘Well, it shall never be said I handed you my master’s money’, and so saying, he flung the leather bag across a high hedge (some say a high wall).

The coins jingled as the bag fell and O’Hanlon dismounted his horse with ease, impressed by the lad’s courage and yet totally deceived by his apparent naivety. No sooner had he crossed the hedge or wall, the boy slipped from his old mare and jumped on O’Hanlon’s powerful stallion and was off like the wind. Behind him he left a bewildered O’Hanlon with a useless horse and a bag full of coppers.

In William Carleton’s novel, Redmond Count O’Hanlon: The Irish Rapparee, he mentions this story and claims that O’Hanlon’s horse was put into a livery in Dundalk and advertised. O’Hanlon never claimed him, but instead wrote a letter (unsigned) to the lad’s master, stating that the horse’s owner made a present of him to the ‘young rogue’ in reward for his cleverness and ingenuity. Carlton also states that O’Hanlon could never tell the story without laughing heartily and ‘wishin’ he had the trainin’ of the lad’.

O’Hanlon’s escapades and adventures continued for a brave few years after this incident. But things were to take a turn for the worse for the outlaw. O’Hanlon had an undying hatred for Anglo-Irish landowner Henry St John, who had been granted the traditional lands of the O’Hanlon clan. This hatred deepened when St John began evicting O’Hanlon’s clansmen in large numbers. A private war between the men and their forces raged. The first major casualty of this war was St John’s nineteen-year-old son, who was killed by the O’Hanlon gang on 9 September 1679. Outraged by this, James Butler, 1st Duke of Ormonde, the ‘Lord Deputy of Ireland’, ordered the assassination of Redmond O’Hanlon.

The duke’s warrant was issued to Mr William Lucas, a planter and militia officer from Dromantine, who in turn recruited Arthur ‘Art’ MacCall O’Hanlon to carry out the assassination. Art was Redmond O’Hanlon’s foster brother and close associate but was of a treacherous and avaricious nature.

According to the Revd H.W. Lett, who wrote about O’Hanlon in the 1898 edition of the Banbridge Household Almanac, when the order for his death was brought about, Redmond assigned two body guards to be at his side at all times, these were Art O’Hanlon and another member of the gang, William O’Shiel.

On the day when O’Hanlon met his death, Monday 25 April 1681, it was O’Shiel’s turn to keep watch outside an abandoned cabin, where he was resting. Inside, Art sat beside him. The place was described in a pamphlet printed in Dublin in 1681, as being near ‘Eight-Mile-Bridge’, now Hilltown in County Down. There had been a fair at the ‘Bridge’, which is now known as Banbridge, and Redmond was there to intercept traders coming back and rob them.

At two o’clock in the afternoon, as Redmond lay asleep, Arthur O’Hanlon discharged his blunderbuss into Redmond’s chest and then fled the scene. Lett states that when William O’Shiel heard the shot he ran into the cabin and found his leader still alive. As he lay dying, Redmond asked O’Shiel to cut off his head as soon as his ‘fastly-ebbing life should be over’. This was to prevent the sport, triumph and gruesome displays of his enemies. As soon as the breath left his body, O’Shiel complied with this grim request and ran from the cabin holding his leader’s head. Another source F. Mac Poilin, writing in 1936, stated that O’Shiel hid the head in a disused well close by. The decapitated body was later brought to Newry and men were sent to search for the head.

A military search party subsequently recovered the head and it was taken to Downpatrick Jail in County Down. As was the custom at the time, O’Hanlon’s head was put on a spike outside the jail for all to see. Other accounts state that parts of is body were put there too, like some macabre exhibition. According to folklore, O’Hanlon’s mother travelled to Downpatrick and composed a lament upon seeing her son’s head spiked over the jail.

After this cowardly and treacherous deed, Art O’Hanlon received a full pardon for his previous misdemeanours and £200 from the ‘Duke of Ormond’ for murdering his leader. William Lucas, the planter and militia officer who had recruited Art and arranged the killing, received a lieutenant’s commission in the British Army.

‘Thus fell “The Irish Scanderbeg”, who considering his means, and the circumstances he lay under, and the short time he continued to act, did more things to be admired than “The Scanderbeg” himself’, stated Sir Francis Brewster. This ‘Scanderbeg’, to whom O’Hanlon is likened to, was the King of Albania, whose story reads like that of ‘Jack the Giant Killer’. He was known to have cut fully armoured men in two with one swipe of his sword.

There are many stories, debates and speculation about where Redmond O’Hanlon’s body found its final resting place. Revd Lett states he is buried in the parish of Ballymore in an old graveyard called Ballynaback, situated between Tandragee and Scarva, County Down. Another source states he is buried in the ‘Conwal Parish Church Cemetery’ in Letterkenny, County Donegal. And many believe his body is buried somewhere beneath the road from Poyntzpass to Newry in County Down. The Poyntzpass Gaelic Football team is called ‘The Redmond O’Hanlons’ in his honour.

There is a great belief amongst locals that the ghosts of O’Hanlon and his gang still haunt the scenes of their wild career. And tales are told of a ‘Headless Ghost’ roaming the lands around Hilltown in County Down.

2

THE DEMON CHIEFTAIN

This is a story I picked whilst delving deep into the annals of County Down’s rich folk history. The story was sparsely recorded by a gentleman named Richard Hooke in 1891. I took it upon myself to delve a little deeper and this is what I found.

In the Mourne Mountains of County Down there is a deep and rugged valley or glen that stretches far into the centre of one section of these mountains, barren, rocky and dangerous. This valley is said to be inaccessible, its dungeon depths have never been trodden by human feet.

Out of this flows a stream of water so icy cold that it would chill you to your very soul to drink it. This stream tumbles down the rocky glen and falls into a deep lake below. Near the lake stood an ancient mound and in its centre was a cromlech consisting of four large stones surmounted with a fifth of immense size and weight. This, the legend tells, is the grave of a terrible Irish Chieftain of prehistoric times named M’Caurro. Hooke states that M’Caurro was known to have fed his ‘coal-black steed’ on the flesh of his slaughtered foes.

He was one of the ‘Fomorians’ meaning ‘Under-Demons’, who appeared in the twelfth-century Irish Book of Invasions, which contains an account of the mythical invasions of Ireland. The Fomorians were the nemesis of the Tuatha De Dannan, ‘The People of the Goddess Danu’, a race of divine beings said to have inhabited and ruled Ireland before the occupation of the Gaels or Celts. After the arrival of the Celts the Tuatha De Dannan relinquished their possession of the upper world and created a kingdom underground in the ‘Otherworld’ or ‘Fairy Mounds’. This magical world was a mirror image of the upper world, but there was immortality there, agelessness and beauty and many believe they are still there, controlling the supernatural world.

On the other hand, M’Caurro’s race, the Fomorians, were masters of darkness, destruction and despair. The Fomorians were defeated by the Tuatha De Dannan and those who survived the battle slowly disappeared. It seems that before he died, M’Caurro made a pact with the Devil so that he would hold some fiendish status in Hell and could return to the earth every year, on the anniversary of his death, to collect souls.

Near his grave and across the lake, in another smaller and partially wooded valley, lies the ‘Devil’s Well’. This well has always been regarded by the inhabitants of this lonely and sparsely populated district as a place to be avoided at all costs, for the legend states that when ‘Night has donned her sable mantle’ on a certain date each year, marking the anniversary of M’Caurro’s death, the terrible coal-black steed of the Demon Chieftain comes trudging menacingly down the valley. He goes round the lake and up to this well, where he quenches his thirst and is joined by the Prince of Darkness and his horrid crew of servants and advisors.