Authors: Henry Glassie
HUGH NOLAN
FERMANAGH
HENRY GLASSIE
1972
Well, I was coming along the road convenient to Drumbargy Lane.
And I seen this light.
And it seemed for to start—I couldn’t just say whether it started from Francy’s or whether it come past it. But it was a little below Francy’s when I seen it first.
And it was a powerful light and what struck me was that: wasn’t it a wonder that it wasn’t
blacked out
, do you see, for the way it was at that time it was only the underpart of a bicycle light that you’d see; the upper part of the glass had to be either blackened or there had to be a black cloth over it. It was during the war, do you see.
But this was a
full light
.
And it came on very, very, very, very quick.
And it was just coming forward to where the turn is on the road when it disappeared.
So I was on this side of Drumbargy Lane at that time. And the thought that struck me was that they either got a burst or a puncture or something had happened to the bicycle.
So I came on anyway, expecting for to come across some man in difficulty, or some person, man or woman.
But there was nobody on the road.
So I took from that, that it was some kind of token.
John O’Prey was working here with Francy’s father at the time.
And he was coming home one night.
And
this light
came along, as he thought,
meeting
him.
But it went out
before
they met.
And there was nobody on the road.
I just don’t know how long it was before I seen it that John O’Prey seen it. But Francy’s father died about in a week or a fortnight, a short time after.
A CONNEMARA WOMAN
GALWAY
LADY GREGORY
1920
One night the clock in my room struck six and it had not struck for years, and two nights after—on Christmas night—it struck six again, and afterwards I heard that my sister in America had died just at that hour. So now I have taken the weights off the clock, that I wouldn’t hear it again.
MRS. O’BRIEN
GALWAY
LADY GREGORY
1920
The Banshee always cries for the O’Briens. And Anthony O’Brien was a fine man when I married him, and handsome, and I could have had great marriages if I didn’t choose him, and many wondered at me.
And when he was took ill and in the bed, Johnny Rafferty came in one day, and says he, “Is Anthony living?” and I said he was. “For,” says he, “as I was passing, I heard crying, crying, from the hill where the forths are, and I thought it must be for Anthony, and that he was gone.” And then Ellen, the little girl, came running in, and she says, “I heard the mournfullest crying that ever you heard just behind the house.”
And I said, “It must be the Banshee.”
And Anthony heard me say that where he was lying in the bed, and he called out, “If it’s the Banshee it’s for me, and I must die today or tomorrow.” And in the middle of the next day, he died.
ARMAGH
T. G. F. PATERSON
1945
I saw the Banshee when old Boyle’s mother died. I was coming home in the dusk with a load of sods, and the old gray horse and me mother with me.
And says she till me, “Some poor woman has lost her man or maybe a son.”
And the thing wore a shroud as if had come from a coffin, and its hair was streaming in the wind. We both saw it.
And me mother, she said a prayer or maybe two. “That’s the Banshee,” says she.
Aye, it cried for many an old family here, and some say it’s one that has gone before. Be that as it may, no human heart could utter such grief, so, mind ye, I doubt it.
JOSEPH AND PETER FLANAGAN
FERMANAGH
HENRY GLASSIE
1977