Irish Ghost Tales (14 page)

The abbess could have continued to reside at the abbey for a variety of reasons. She was a member of a noble family, so she would have had considerable influence. The Pope may have decided to leave her there as a form of punishment or she may have been unable to leave for reasons unknown. All evidence collected by the Church authorities at that time was destroyed, so I suppose we will never know the real answers. The abbess lived in the sacristy of the abbey and became a recluse, avoiding all contact with people. Passing locals would see her gathering herbs and plants in the dead of night. She was suspected of carrying out witchcraft and was one of the best-known practitioners of these arts in the locality – so well known that she was consulted by high-ranking nobles who wished to know the future.

They say her spirit still haunts the ruins. Local people have described an old woman dressed in the black habit of a nun silently walking in the overgrown gardens of the nunnery. Is this the spirit of the abbess or just some poor unfortunate soul seeking shelter?

T
he ruins of Shanagolden Abbey are said to be haunted by another member of the Fitzgerald family, the Countess of Desmond. She and her husband, the Earl, were trapped in their castle nearby at Shanid when their enemies, the Butlers of Ormond, lay siege to them. The castle was believed to be impregnable; it was of a circular design and had walls ten feet thick. It sat high on a hill and was surrounded by deep ditches. However, the earl's harpist betrayed him and opened the postern gate. This gate served as a secondary gate, located in a concealed part of the castle walls. These types of concealed gates were installed in order to allow the occupants of a besieged castle to escape or to carry out surprise attacks upon the enemy. Unfortunately this one served the opposite purpose. The traitorous harpist allowed the Butlers into the castle after coming to an agreement with them that he would be raised to a higher status than his master, the earl. After gaining entrance and overcoming the defenders the Butlers honoured their word and raised the harper to a higher status; they hung him from the battlements.

The Earl of Desmond and his wife managed to escape the castle. Some believe there was a secret tunnel leading to the nearby abbey of Shanagolden, although this has never been proven. They escaped by horseback, the earl carrying his wife across his saddle. However, as they fled, the countess was struck by an arrow shot by one of the Butler archers and seriously wounded. Desmond carried his wife, who was unconscious, through the south gate of the abbey. Believing her to be dead, he quickly buried her under the altar of the abbey before escaping.

The countess regained consciousness but to her horror she found herself buried alive and unable to escape from her tomb. It is said that a shadowy figure is sometimes seen at night, wandering through the ruins of the abbey, and that her screams can still be heard as she begs her husband to realise that he has made a mistake and return to free her.

T
he ghosts of children are a common phenomenon in Irish folklore and feature in stories from every part of the country. The ghosts, known as ‘radiant children', have a supernatural appearance and are surrounded by a brilliant, flickering glow. They are considered to be warnings (similar to the banshee); if you see one of them, it means you may not have long to live.

In the mid-1700s, Captain Robert Stewart, a British Army officer stationed in Belfast, was enjoying a few days hunting in County Derry. It was a lovely, sunny day to begin with, but without warning the weather turned ugly and a fierce storm swept across the land. Captain Stewart saw a light in the distance and rode towards it, hoping to find shelter. As he got nearer there appeared out of the gloom an old mansion. The light he had seen came from one of the windows. From within he heard the sounds of merriment and laughter.

Captain Stewart dismounted and called for help. Several manservants came to his assistance. They informed him that there was a party in progress and that the house was full of guests. However, the captain was made very welcome by the master and mistress of the house, who invited him to attend the party. After the party, many of the guests went to their beds. The weather had worsened – the rain and wind was battering the walls and windows of the old house – so Stewart's hosts insisted that he stay the night and have a good breakfast in the morning, by which time the storm should have died out. The master of the house called one of the old servants who was standing nearby.

‘Hamilton here will show you to your room,' the master said.

The room Captain Stewart was shown to was sparsely furnished but the servants had set a large peat fire in the grate that threw out a great deal of heat and filled the room with a sweet smell. However, despite the crackling fire, the room had a distinct chill. Stewart lay on the bed and was soon asleep. He had only been asleep a short time when he was woken by the sound of a child crying in the darkness. He lit the bedside candle and looked around the room but saw nothing. The sound slowly faded away. Thinking that it must have been a trick of the wind, he blew out his candle and was soon fast asleep again. It wasn't long before his sleep was disturbed once more, this time by a grey light that flooded the room. Half asleep, Stewart jumped from his bed, believing the house to be on fire. He looked across the room and gasped. Crouched in the far corner was a naked boy. He was crying bitterly, although the sounds he made seemed to come from far away. Stewart approached the boy and asked him why he was weeping but the boy made no reply. Stewart reached out to touch the boy on the shoulder, but as he did so the boy vanished and the room was plunged into darkness.

The following morning Captain Stewart confronted his host, complaining that he was the victim of some practical joke that was in extremely bad taste. However, none of the guests knew anything about it and the whole thing was deemed a mystery. Summoning the old servant, the master of the house asked him which room he had given to Captain Stewart.

‘Well, sir,' the servant replied, ‘the house was so full with all the other guests so I had a fire made up in one of the back rooms that we never use.'

The master's face went pale. ‘You don't mean the boy's room?'

‘Yes, sir,' the servant whispered. ‘I didn't mean anything wrong. I mean, it's just an old story, isn't it?'

‘To what are you referring?' Captain Stewart asked. ‘Are you saying that what I saw last night was more than just a child?'

His host nodded. ‘Some things are beyond our understanding.'

The captain laughed. He was a military man and didn't believe such nonsense.

‘You don't mean a ghost? You can't be serious!'

His host shook his head slowly.

‘Not a ghost exactly; more a vision. In our family there is an old tradition that the boy – we call him the Radiant Boy – appears only to those destined for great power. However, the person chosen is also destined to die a violent death.'

Captain Stewart laughed once more, declaring that he had never heard the like. He then went on to spend the rest of the morning enjoying the hospitality of his hosts. After lunch he bid them farewell, mounted his horse and headed back to Belfast. He was never to see the old mansion again.

Years passed and Stewart did indeed rise to power, eventually gaining a seat in the House of Lords with the title Lord Castlereagh. He was also a member of the British government under William Pitt, serving first as Minister for War, then as Foreign Secretary during the Napoleonic Wars. He was extremely unpopular with the Irish people, especially because of the part he played in the 1801 Act of Union. He became ill eventually and just one year after becoming the Marquis of Londonderry he had a mental breakdown. At the age of 53 he committed suicide by slashing his own throat with a razor. The prophecy had at last been fulfilled: he had risen to power and he had died a violent death, filled with deep despair.

No one knows if the Radiant Boy ever existed as a real person, so it is a matter of historical and folkloric conjecture. His origin story has been lost in time; although, such figures appear in the folklore of many different countries. Is he a ghost, a spiritual remnant of a departed life or a spirit emissary delivering a warning to those who are destined to be touched by the far-reaching hand of fate? It has even been suggested that the Radiant Boy is comparable to the banshee in many ways and may only appear to certain families.

I
t seems that fairy women all over Ireland find birth to be a difficult experience. Many fairy children die before birth and the ones that survive are often stunted or deformed.

The adult fairies are repelled by these infants and have no wish to keep them. They will try to swap them with healthy children, who they steal from the mortal world. The wizened, ill-tempered creature left in behind is generally known as a changeling and possesses the power to work evil in a household. Any child who is overly admired is especially at risk of being exchanged.

It is their temperament that most marks the changeling. Babies are generally joyful and pleasant, but the fairy substitute is never happy, except when some calamity befalls the household. For the most part, it howls and screeches throughout all hours of the day and night and the sound and frequency of its yells often transcend the limits of human endurance.

A changeling can be one of three types: actual fairy children, senile fairies who are disguised as children or inanimate objects, such as pieces of wood, which are given the appearance of a child by fairy magic. This last type is known as a stock.

Puckered and wizened features coupled with yellow, parchment-like skin are all typical changeling attributes. They often have very dark eyes, which betray a wisdom far older than the creature's apparent years. Changelings often have some kind of physical deformity, such as a crooked back or a lame hand. About two weeks after their arrival in the human household, changelings exhibit a full set of teeth, legs as thin as chicken bones and hands which are curved and crooked like birds' talons and covered with a light, downy hair.

No luck will come to a family in which there is a changeling because the creature drains away all the good fortune which would normally attend the household. Thus, those who are cursed with a changeling child tend to be very poor and struggle desperately to maintain the ravenous monster in their midst.

One positive feature a changeling might demonstrate is an aptitude for music. As it begins to grow, the changeling may take up an instrument, often the fiddle or the Irish pipes, and play with such skill that all who hear it become entranced.

This report is from near Boho in County Fermanagh: ‘I saw a changeling one time. He lived with two oul' brothers away beyond the Dog's Well and looked like a wee wizened monkey. He was about ten or eleven but he couldn't really walk, just bobbed about. But he could play the whistle the best that you ever heard. Old tunes that the people have long forgotten, that was all he played. Then one day, he was gone and I don't know what happened to him at all.'

Prevention being better than cure, a number of protective measures can be taken to ward off the fairies. Iron tongs placed across the infant's cradle usually prove effective because fairies fear these. An article of the father's clothing laid across the child as it sleeps will have the same effect.

Changelings have prodigious appetites and will eat all that is set before them. They have teeth and claws and do not take the breast like a human infant; they eat food straight from the pantry, or the fridge nowadays. When the creature is finished each meal, it will demand more.