Read The Legend of the Irish Castle Online
Authors: Gertrude Chandler Warner
The Legend of the Irish Castle
created by
GERTRUDE CHANDLER WARNER
Illustrated by
Anthony VanArsdale
ALBERT WHITMAN & Company, Chicago
Contents
CHAPTER 1
The Bad Omen
H
enry Alden pushed a cart full of luggage
through the bustling airport of Dublin,
Ireland. All around him, people were walking
very fast and pulling large suitcases. A pilot
and two flight attendants wearing navy blue
uniforms passed by, their shoes clicking
on the tile floor. On the public address
system, a voice said, “Last call for flight
two-seventeen!” Airports always made the
Alden children feel very excited. They loved
traveling to new places.
“I wonder how long it will take to get to
the castle,” said twelve-year-old Jessie Alden.
She looked at her watch and reset it to the
local time, six hours later than in their home
in Greenfield. Between the time change and
the long flight, the children were feeling
tired. But they had been looking forward to
their vacation in Ireland for a long time and
couldn’t wait to explore the castles and the
beautiful countryside.
Grandfather glanced at the map in his hand.
“According to the map, it should take about
two hours to get to where we’re staying.”
Grandfather was also carrying Benny, who
at six was the youngest Alden. Benny had
been asleep when the plane landed and was
just starting to wake up. His head rested on
Grandfather’s shoulder. “Erin, the owner of
the castle, said she would pick us up right
outside the airport.”
Ten-year-old Violet walked ahead of the
other children and snapped a picture of a
sign that read “This Way to Dublin” with
an arrow pointing toward the doors. Violet
was planning to make a scrapbook of this
adventure when the Aldens returned home,
and she thought a picture of the sign would
be perfect for the cover.
The automatic doors opened with a
whoosh
,
and the Aldens walked out into the sunshine.
Taxis were lined up along the curb.
“What a beautiful day!” Violet said,
snapping another picture.
“We’re lucky the sun is out,” Henry said.
“I’ve read that it rains a lot in Ireland.”
“We don’t mind a little rain,” said Violet.
She took off her purple sweater and tied it
around her waist. “We always found fun
things to do on rainy days when we lived in
the boxcar!”
After their parents died, the Alden children
had run away. They were afraid of their
grandfather because they thought he was mean
and they wouldn’t like living with him. In the
woods, the children had found an abandoned
boxcar and made it their home. They had
lots of adventures, and even found their dog,
Watch, in the woods. He became part of their
family too. When their grandfather found
them, they realized he wasn’t mean at all.
Grandfather Alden took the children to his
home to live with him and his housekeeper,
Mrs. McGregor. Grandfather brought the
boxcar to his home, and put it in the backyard
to use as a clubhouse.
“That must be our ride,” Jessie said,
pointing to a white van that said “Duncarraig
Castle” in green letters on the side.
Grandfather and the children walked toward
the van just as a woman got out. She had a long
red braid that hung down over her shoulder.
“Céad míle fáilte!” she said. “That means ‘a
hundred thousand welcomes.’ I’m Erin.”
The children introduced themselves, and
Henry and Erin loaded the luggage into the
van. Grandfather helped Benny get buckled in.
Benny tried to wake himself up, but as soon as
they started driving, he closed his eyes again.
“Poor Benny,” said Violet. “He seems so tired.”
“You all must be tired after that long trip,”
Erin said. “And hungry too. Let’s stop for
lunch when we get to Howth.”
Benny sat up and opened his eyes. “Did
someone say ‘lunch’?”
Everyone laughed. “I thought lunch might
wake you up,” Grandfather said.
Erin took the scenic route toward the
seaside village of Howth. The tall cliffs alongside
the road were bright green and towered
over the ocean below. White seagulls sailed
through the air hunting for fish. Erin told
the children about the sights. “Down there is
Dublin Bay,” she said, pointing to the water.
“And that’s Baily Lighthouse.”
She pointed to a narrow white building
perched on the edge of a cliff. It was a steep
drop down to the ocean, where the waves
crashed against the rocks.
Erin continued. “The village of Howth
has been a busy fishing port for hundreds of
years, but the fog can make it dangerous. The
lighthouse shines to warn the boats when
they are getting too close to these cliffs.”
Violet shivered thinking about how scary a
shipwreck would be. “I’m so glad we traveled
by plane instead of boat!” she said.
“I think a ship would be exciting!” Henry
said. He was fourteen and liked adventure. “As
long as the captain knew what he was doing.”
“Don’t worry, Violet,” Grandfather said.
“Ships don’t rely on lighthouses anymore.
Now they use computers to navigate the
ocean, so sailors always know when they are
close to land.”
Erin parked the van in front of a row of
very old buildings painted bright colors.
“Let’s have lunch on the pier. How do you
feel about fish and chips?” she asked Benny.
Grandfather explained, “In Ireland, chips
are what we think of as french fries back in
the U.S. Fish and chips is a dish of fried fish
with fried potatoes on the side.”
Benny rubbed his stomach. “I don’t mind if
they call them fries or chips, as long as they
come with ketchup!”
The Aldens sat down at a table covered in
a red-checkered cloth, and Erin ordered their
food. From where they sat they could watch
the boats coming in and out of port. Some
raised big nets full of fish onto the pier.
While the Aldens and Erin waited for
their food, Jessie pulled out the book she had
been reading on the plane.
“That’s a good one!” Erin said, looking
at the cover. The book was called
Irish
Fairy Legends
. “Maeve Rowe McCarron is
very famous. She writes about Irish culture
and history. I loved her books when I was
younger.”
“Until I read this book, I never knew there
were so many kinds of fairy creatures in Irish
folklore,” Jessie said.
“We knew about leprechauns,” Violet pointed
out. “They’re the ones who wear green and
hide a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.”
“Mhm,” Jessie said. “But we had never heard
about the goblin that disguises itself as a
chained black horse—the one called a pooka.”
“And the creature called a merrow,” Henry
added. “It lives in the sea like a mermaid, but
instead of a fish tail, it wears seal skins.”
Grandfather noticed that both Benny and
Violet were looking nervous. They weren’t
sure whether they wanted to meet creatures
like these on their trip. “But remember,”
Grandfather said, “these creatures are part of
myths. Myths are stories, but not everything
in them is real.”
“Just like ghosts,” Henry said. “We know
from solving mysteries that when we think we
see a ghost, there’s always another explanation.”
Just then, the waitress brought their food.
All the children had ordered fish and chips,
which came in wicker baskets lined with
waxed paper. Grandfather and Erin had
ordered mussels, and those came in bowls
full of broth. They also had brown bread and
fresh butter. The food smelled delicious.
“I don’t know,” Erin said, as she used a
fork to pull a mussel from its black shell, “in
Ireland, lots of people believe in banshees.”
Jessie took a bite of fish and flipped a few
pages in her book to the paragraph she was
looking for. “
A banshee is a female spirit
,” she
read aloud. “
Her cry can sound like a woman
wailing or an owl moaning. She is often depicted
wearing a gray hooded cloak. The presence of a
banshee is known to be a bad omen
.”
“What’s a bad omen?” asked Benny. “It
sounds…
bad
.”
“I think it means bad luck,” Henry said.
“Some of the old Irish families had their
very own banshees,” Erin said. “Like the
family that once owned Duncarraig Castle.
Their banshee warned them when something
bad was about to happen.”
“Do you think
we
will see the banshee?”
Benny asked.
Erin laughed. “Let’s hope not!”
But Violet couldn’t help noticing that
Erin’s fork was trembling when she took a
bite. Talking about the banshee seemed to
make her awfully uneasy.
A Sound of Wailing
A
fter lunch, the Aldens piled back into the
van and Erin drove along the coastal road
and through the countryside for more than
an hour. They passed through a few small
villages with fenced cottages and churches
covered in ivy, and the van bumped over the
cobblestones of the old roads. Finally, Erin
turned down a long, narrow lane that led
through the trees. The sun had gone behind
the clouds and it was starting to sprinkle.
“Now
this
is the Irish weather I was
expecting,” Henry said. “But maybe after the
rain we’ll see a rainbow.”
“I’d sure like to get a picture of one for the
scrapbook!” Violet said.
They came into a clearing, and up ahead was
an enormous gray stone castle. Fuzzy green
moss was growing on some of the stones. Off
to the side was a garden full of climbing vines
and lush flowers, with a bench where you could
sit and admire the view. Behind the castle was
a soft meadow of yellow and green grass, and a
deep woods with a single path cutting through.
“Welcome to Duncarraig Castle!” Erin
said. “The most beautiful castle in Ireland!”
The children got out of the van and
stretched their legs.
“That’s funny,” Benny said, looking
around. “I don’t see any dunes around here.”
“Duncarraig is an Irish word,” Erin
said. “
Dun
means fort, and
carraig
means a
rocky headland, like the rocks along the
coast. Castles were usually named for their
locations, so Duncarraig means the fort by
the rocky headlands.”
“We could call the boxcar Fortfence,”
Benny said. “Because it is kind of like our
fort, and it’s near the fence in the backyard.”
Henry laughed. “That’s true, Benny. Now,
let’s carry in the bags,” he said.
Jessie zipped the book about fairy legends
back into her bag and joined Henry. “I’ll
help you.”
Violet took Benny’s hand, and Grandfather
followed as they walked up the path, gravel
crunching under their feet. Erin opened the
heavy wooden door of the castle by pulling on
the iron ring. It looked very old and creaked
on its hinges.
The children entered the dark front hall,
where woven tapestries hung on the walls. A
long wooden table held flickering candles.
“We’ve spent the last few years fixing up
this place,” Erin told them. “It seems like a
fun idea to stay in a hotel in an old castle,
until you realize that people who lived in
castles didn’t have plumbing or electricity!
So we made the rest of the rooms modern
for the hotel guests. But we decided to leave
the front hall just as it had been for hundreds
of years. A little piece of history.”
Violet pointed her camera at the iron
chandelier hanging far above them from the
high ceiling and took a picture. “Just think
how many people have walked through this
hall in all that time!” she said.