I also know of an old man living on the slopes of Ben Bulben who found the devil ringing a bell under his bed. So, he went and stole the chapel bell[93] and rang it, driving the devil away. Probably, like the other stories, this wasnt actually the devil but a woodland spirit with cloven feet[94].
HAPPY AND UNHAPPY THEOLOGIANS[95]
I
Once, a woman from Mayo told me a story. She said, I knew a maid who hanged herself [96]because of her love for God. She felt lonely without the priest and her community, so she used a scarf to hang herself from the banister. As soon as she died, she turned as white as a lily. They gave her a Christian burial, and the priest said that she was immediately with the Lord after her death. So, it doesnt matter what you do for the love of God. I understand why she enjoys telling this story. She herself has a strong love for all things holy. She once told me that she sees everything described in a sermon with her own eyes. She described the gates of Purgatory as they appeared to her. One day, she asked me which month and flower were the most beautiful. When I said I didnt know, she replied, The month of May because of the Virgin Mary, and the lily of the valley because it never sinned, but came pure out of the rocks. Then she asked, Why are there the three cold months of winter? I didnt know the answer to that either, so she said, Its the sin of humanity and Gods punishment.
She thinks the fairies are pleasant and beautiful. She never calls them Fallen Angels[97]. They are like regular people, but more attractive. She often watches them drive their wagons[98] through the sky, one after another, in a long line. Even though they once knocked her down[99], she doesnt think badly of them. She saw them most frequently when she worked in Kings County. One morning, she told me, Last night, I was waiting for the master until a quarter past eleven. Then I heard a loud noise on the table. I laughed so much that I almost died. It was a sign that I was staying up too late. They wanted the place to themselves. Once, I told her about someone who saw fairies and fainted. She said, It couldnt have been a fairy, but something evil. Nobody faints at the sight of fairies. It must have been a demon. Fairies are the best neighbors. If you treat them well, they will treat you well, but they dont like it when you cross their path. Another time she said to me, They are always kind to the poor.
II
There is, however, a man in a Galway village who can see nothing but wickedness. Some people think he is very holy, but others think he is a little crazy. He says, I know a priest who was looking on the ground like he was searching for something, and a voice said to him, If you want to see them, you will see plenty of them, and his eyes opened, and he saw many of them on the ground. Sometimes they sing and dance, but they always have split feet[100]. One night, after walking back from Kinvara, he felt one coming beside him. He could feel the horse the fairies was riding, but it didnt sound like a horses hooves[101]. So he stopped, turned around, and loudly said, Go away! and the fairies left and never bothered him again. He thinks they are fallen angels, and after their fall, God created Hell[102]
I saw Hell once. It was like a vision. It had a tall metal wall around it with an archway[103] and a straight path leading into it. Inside the wall, there were pathways, and on the left, there were five big furnaces[104] where souls were kept with heavy chains. I quickly turned and left, but as I turned, I looked at the wall again and couldnt see an end to it.
Another time, I saw Purgatory. It seemed to be in a flat place without any walls, just a bright fire, and souls standing in it. They suffer almost as much as in Hell, but there are no devils there, and they have hope for Heaven.
And I heard a voice calling to me from there, saying, Help me get out of here! When I looked, it was a man I knew from the army, an Irishman from this county.
I reached out my hand at first, but then I shouted, Id rather be burned in the flames than come within three yards of you. So he said, Well, help me with your prayers, and thats what I do.
1902.THE LAST GLEEMAN[105]
Michael Moran was born around 1794 in a place called Black Pitts, in Dublins Liberties area, specifically in Faddle Alley. Two weeks after he was born, he became blind because of an illness. This became a blessing for his parents because they could send him out to recite rhymes and beg for money on the streets. By the time he became an adult, he was the leader among all the street ballad singers in the Liberties. However, his physical appearance was not impressive. He wore a coarse frieze coat[106] with a cape and scalloped edge[107], old corduroy[108] trousers, big boots, and carried a sturdy stick attached to his wrist with a leather strap. Moran lacked the traditional cloak and leather bag, but he was a true gleeman. He was a poet, a jester[109], and a news bearer[110] for the common people. In the morning, after finishing his breakfast, his wife or a neighbor would read the newspaper to him. They would continue reading until he interrupted[111] and said, Thats enough I need some time for my thoughts. From these moments of reflection[112], he would gather material for his jokes and rhymes for the day.
When his reflective thoughts didnt bring satisfactory results or when the crowd wanted something different, he would recite or sing a rhythmic tale or ballad about saints or biblical adventures. One of his most well-known religious tales was St. Mary of Egypt,. It tells the story of a sinful[113] woman from Egypt named Mary, who followed pilgrims to Jerusalem for questionable reasons. When she was stopped from entering the Temple by supernatural forces, she repented[114] and went to the desert, where she spent the rest of her life in solitary penance[115]. At the end of her life, God sent Bishop Zozimus to hear her confession, administer the last sacrament[116], and with the help of a lion, whom God also sent, dig her grave. Moran also had his own poem called Moses, which was a bit closer to poetry without being very close. However, he didnt have much patience for solemnity[117] and before long, he parodied his own verses like this:
took her dipbulrushbundle of strawBut most of his funny rhymes were jokes and teasing about the people he knew. For example, he liked to make fun of a shoemaker who was known for showing off[121] his money but not keeping himself clean. He would sing a song to remind him of his humble beginnings. We only have the first verse of that song:
cobblerorange-womanyeomenbigotjadeHe had a lot of troubles. Once, a policeman arrested him as a vagabond[127], but he was able to defeat the officer in court, and everyone laughed. As Morans fame grew, he faced a more serious problem. Several pretenders[128] appeared from all directions. For example, an actor made a lot of money by imitating Morans words, songs, and appearance on stage. One night, the actor was having dinner with friends, and they argued about whether his imitation was overdone or not. They decided to ask the public. A forty-shilling supper at a famous cafe was to be the wager[129]. The actor came to Essex Bridge, a place where Moran often visited, and soon gathered a small crowd. He had barely started reciting In Egypts land, contagious to the Nile when Moran himself arrived, followed by another crowd. The two crowds met with great excitement and laughter. The pretender exclaimed, Good people, can you believe that anyone would mock the poor blind man like that?
Whos that? Its someone pretending to be me, Moran replied.
Go away, you terrible person! Youre the one pretending to be me. Arent you afraid that the heavens will punish you for making fun of a poor blind man?
Oh my goodness, is there no protection against this? Youre a very cruel person trying to take away my honest means of living, poor Moran replied.
And you, you terrible person, wont let me continue with the beautiful poem. Kind people, please help me and chase this man away. Hes taking advantage of my blindness.
The pretender thanked the people for their sympathy and protection, and went on with the poem,
Moran listened in silence for a while. After some time, Moran protested again, saying:
Dont any of you recognize me? Cant you see that its me, and thats someone else?
Before I continue with this wonderful story, the pretender interrupted, I ask you to donate money to help me keep going.
Dont you have a soul to save, you mocker of heaven? cried Moran, completely overwhelmed by this latest insult. Are you trying to rob the poor and deceive the world? Oh, has such wickedness ever been seen before?
Ill leave it up to you, my friends, said the pretender, to give money to the real blind man that you all know so well and save me from that trickster[130]. He collected some money while doing so. Meanwhile, Moran started reciting his poem Mary of Egypt, but the angry crowd grabbed his stick and were about to hit him when they were once again confused by his striking resemblance[131] to himself. The pretender then called on them grab that villain and Ill show you who the imposter is! They brought him over to Moran, but instead of fighting him, he gave Moran a few shillings and turned to the crowd, explaining that he was just an actor who had won a bet. He left in a great excitement to enjoy the meal he had earned.
In April 1846, the priest received news that Michael Moran was dying. He found him at 15 Patrick Street, lying on bed in a room filled with street singers who had come to cheer him in his final moments. The funeral took place the following day. Some of his admirers and friends joined the hearse with the coffin, as it was a wet and unpleasant day. Not long into the journey, one of them exclaimed, Its terribly cold, isnt it? Indeed, replied another, well all be as stiff as the corpse[132] when we reach the cemetery. Curse him, said a third, I wish he had lasted another month when the weather would have been better.
REGINA, REGINA PIGMEORUM, VENI[133]
One night, a man in his middle age, a young girl who has the ability to see strange lights in the fields among the cows, and me, were walking on a beach in the far west. We were talking about the Forgetful People, who are sometimes called the fairies people, and we came across a cave among black rocks where they always gather. I asked the young girl if she could see anything. She stood still for a few minutes, and I noticed that she entered a kind of trance. Then I called out the names of the great fairies, and after a moment, she said she could hear music coming from inside the rocks. She also heard people talking and applauding someone unseen[134]. Now my friend came closer and suddenly said that we were going to be interrupted because he heard children laughing somewhere beyond the rocks. However, we were completely alone. The spirits of the place had started to affect him as well. In a moment, the girl confirmed what he said. She then saw a bright light coming out of the cave. She saw a group of small people, wearing different colored clothes, mostly red, dancing to a tune she didnt recognize.
Then I told her to call the queen of the little people to come and talk to us. However, no one responded to her. So, I repeated the words myself, and suddenly a very beautiful tall woman came out of the cave. By that time, I had also entered a kind of trance. Then I told the girl to ask the queen to gather her followers so that we could see them. I had to repeat the command myself. The creatures then came out of the cave and lined up in four groups, if I remember correctly. One of the groups held branches in their hands, while others wore necklaces made of snake scales[135] I cant remember their clothes because I was completely captivated[136] by the beautiful woman. I asked her to tell the seer[137] if these caves were the most important fairies places in the area. No, this was not the greatest fairies place, there was a bigger one a little further ahead. Then I asked if it was true that they took away mortals and replaced their souls. We change the bodies, was her answer. I asked if any of them were ever born as humans. Yes. Do I know anyone were among your people before birth? You do. Who are they? You are not allowed to know. I asked her other questions about her nature and her purpose in the universe, but it seemed to confuse her. Finally, she seemed to lose patience and wrote a message for me on the visionary sands, not the sandy ground we were standing on: Be careful and dont try to know too much about us. Realizing that I had offended[138] her, I thanked her and let her return to her cave. After a while, the young girl woke up from her trance, felt the cold wind of the world again, and began to shiver.
I will tell you these things as accurately as I can, without any theories to confuse the story. Theories are not very good, and most of mine have disappeared a long time ago. I love better than any theory the sound of the Ivory Gate opening, and I believe that only those who have crossed the rose-covered threshold can catch a glimpse of the distant shine of the Horn Gate[139]. It might be good for all of us to raise the same cry as Lilly the astrologer did in Windsor Forest, Regina, Regina Pigmeorum, Veni, and remember with it that God visits His children in dreams. Beautiful tall queen, come closer, and let me see the shadowy beauty of your hair once more.
AND FAIR, FIERCE WOMEN
One day, a woman I know, had met a beautiful woman. The woman was standing by the window, looking towards Knocknarea, where Queen Maive is buried. She saw, as she told me, the most stunning[140] woman traveling from the mountain straight towards her. The woman had a sword by her side and a raised dagger in her hand. She was dressed in white, with bare arms and feet. The old woman covered her eyes with her hands, and when she uncovered them, the beautiful woman was gone. The neighbors thought it was Queen Maive, who often reveals herself to the locals. The other day, a friend of mine questioned an old woman in a Galway workhouse about Queen Maive and was told that Queen Maive was beautiful and defeated all her enemies with a stick, as the hazel stick[141] is blessed and the best weapon one can have. You could travel the world with it. However, the old woman said that Queen Maive became very disagreeable in the end oh, very disagreeable. Its best not to talk about it. Its best to keep it between the book and the listener.
Once, I met a young man in the Burren Hills who knew an old poet. The poet used to write his poems in Irish and had met someone named Maive when he was young. She said she was a queen among them and asked the poet if he wanted money or pleasure. He chose pleasure, and she loved him for a while before leaving him. From then on, he was always very sad. The young man had heard the poet sing a poem many times, but he could only remember that it was very sad and that the poet called Maive the most beautiful of all beauties.
1902.ENCHANTED WOODS
I
Last summer, after I finished my work for the day, I would often go for walks in some woods. There, I would frequently meet an old man from the countryside and talk to him about his work and the woods. Sometimes, a friend would go with me, and the old man would share his thoughts more openly with them than with me. He had spent his whole life cutting down trees from the paths. He had also thought a lot about the natural and supernatural creatures in the woods. He said he heard the hedgehog grunting like a man. He strongly believed that the hedgehog steals apples by rolling around under an apple tree until apples stick to its quills[142]. He was also convinced that the cats in the woods have their own language. He said, Cats were once serpents, and they were turned into cats during a big change in the world. Thats why they are difficult to kill and why its dangerous to mess with them. If you bother a cat, it might scratch or bite you in a way that would put poison into you, just like a serpent. He spoke with great interest about all the wild creatures in the woods.