Yeats' FAIRY AND FOLK
TALES OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY
BEWITCHED BUTTER (QUEEN'S
About the commencement of the
last century there lived in the vicinity of the once famous village of
Aghavoe2 a wealthy farmer, named Bryan Costigan. This man kept an
extensive dairy and a great many milch cows, and every year made considerable
sums by the sale of milk and butter. The luxuriance of
the pasture lands in this neighbourhood has always been proverbial; and,
consequently, Bryan's cows were the finest and most productive in the country,
and his milk and butter the richest and sweetest, and brought the highest price
at every market at which he offered these articles for sale.
Things continued to go on thus prosperously with Bryan Costigan, when, one
season, all at once, he found his cattle declining in appearance, and his dairy
almost entirely profitless. Bryan, at first, attributed this change to the
weather, or some such cause, but soon found or fancied reasons to assign to a
far different source. The cows, without any visible disorder, daily declined,
and were scarcely able to crawl about on their pasture: many of them, instead of
milk, gave nothing but blood; and the scanty quantity of milk which some of them
continued to supply was so bitter that even the pigs would not drink it; whilst
the butter which it produced was of such a bad quality, and stunk so horribly,
that the very dogs would not eat it. Bryan applied for remedies to all the
quacks and "fairy-women" in the country--but in vain. Many of the impostors
declared that the mysterious malady in his cattle went beyond their
skill; whilst others, although they found no difficulty in tracing it to
superhuman agency, declared that they had no control in the matter, as the charm
under the influence of which his property was made away with, was too powerful
to be dissolved by anything less than the special interposition of Divine
Providence. The poor farmer became almost distracted; he saw ruin staring him in
the face; yet what was he to do? Sell his cattle and purchase others! No; that
was out of the question, as they looked so miserable and emaciated, that no one
would even take them as a present, whilst it was also impossible to sell to a
butcher, as the flesh of one which he killed for his own family was as black as
a coal, and stunk like any putrid carrion.
The unfortunate man was thus completely bewildered. He knew not what to do;
he became moody and stupid; his sleep forsook him by night, and all day he wandered about the fields,
amongst his "fairy-stricken" cattle like a maniac.
Affairs continued in this plight, when one very sultry evening in the latter
days of July, Bryan Costigan's wife was sitting at her own door, spinning at her
wheel, in a very gloomy and agitated state of mind. Happening to look down the
narrow green lane which led from the high road to her cabin, she espied a little
old woman barefoot, and enveloped in an old scarlet cloak, approaching slowly,
with the aid of a crutch which she carried in one hand, and a cane or
walking-stick in the other. The farmer's wife felt glad at seeing the
odd-looking stranger; she smiled, and yet she knew not why, as she neared the
house. A vague and indefinable feeling of pleasure crowded on her imagination;
and, as the old woman gained the threshold, she bade her "welcome" with a warmth
which plainly told that her lips gave utterance but to the genuine feelings of
"God bless this good house and all belonging to it," said the stranger as she
"God save you kindly, and you are welcome, whoever you are," replied Mrs.
"Hem, I thought so," said the old woman with a significant grin. "I thought
so, or I wouldn't trouble you."
The farmer's wife ran, and placed a chair near the fire for the stranger; but
she refused, and sat on the ground near where Mrs. C. had been spinning. Mrs.
Costigan had now time to survey the old hag's person minutely. She appeared of
great age; her countenance was extremely ugly and repulsive; her skin was rough
and deeply embrowned as if from long exposure to the effects of some tropical
climate; her forehead was low, narrow, and indented with a thousand wrinkles;
her long grey hair fell in matted elf-locks from beneath a white linen
skull-cap; her eyes were bleared, blood-shotten, and obliquely set in their
sockets, and her voice was croaking, tremulous, and, at times, partially
inarticulate. As she squatted on the floor, she looked round the house with an
inquisitive gaze; she peered pryingly from corner to comer, with an
earnestness of look, as if she had the faculty,
like the Argonaut of old, to see through the very depths of the earth, whilst
Mrs. C. kept watching her motions with mingled feelings of curiosity, awe, and
"Mrs.," said the old woman, at length breaking silence, "I am dry with the
heat of the day; can you give me a drink?"
"Alas!" replied the farmer's wife, "I have no drink to offer you except
water, else you would have no occasion to ask me for it."
"Are you not the owner of the cattle I see yonder?" said the old hag, with a
tone of voice and manner of gesticulation which plainly indicated her
foreknowledge of the fact.
Mrs. Costigan replied in the affirmative, and briefly related to her every
circumstance connected with the affair, whilst the old woman still remained
silent, but shook her grey head repeatedly; and still continued gazing round the
house with an air of importance and self-sufficiency.
When Mrs. C. had ended, the old hag remained a while as if in a deep reverie:
at length she said--
"Have you any of the milk in the house?"
"I have," replied the other.
"Show me some of it."
She filled a jug from a vessel and handed it to the old sybil, who smelled
it, then tasted it, and spat out what she had taken on the floor.
"Where is your husband?" she asked.
"Out in the fields," was the reply.
"I must see him."
A messenger was despatched for Bryan, who shortly after made his
"Neighbour," said the stranger, "your wife informs me that your cattle are
going against you this season."
'She informs you right," said Bryan.
"And why have you not sought a cure?"
"A cure!" re-echoed the man; "why, woman, I have sought cures until I was
heart-broken, and all in vain; they get worse every day."
"What will you give me if I cure them for you?"
"Anything in our power," replied Bryan and his wife, both speaking joyfully,
and with a breath.
"All I will ask from you is a silver sixpence, and that you will do
everything which I will bid you," said she.
The farmer and his wife seemed astonished at the moderation of her demand.
They offered her a large sum of money.
"No," said she, 'I don't want your money; I am no cheat, and I would not even
take sixpence, but that I can do nothing till I handle some of your silver."
The sixpence was immediately given her, and the most implicit obedience
promised to her injunctions by both Bryan and his wife, who already began to
regard the old beldame as their tutelary angel.
The hag pulled off a black silk ribbon or fillet which encircled her head
inside her cap, and gave it to Bryan, saying--
"Go, now, and the first cow you touch with this ribbon, turn her into the
yard, but be sure don't touch the second, nor speak a word until you return; be
also careful not to let the ribbon touch the ground, for, if you do, all is
Bryan took the talismanic ribbon, and soon returned, driving a red cow before
The old hag went out, and, approaching the cow, commenced puffing hairs out
of her tail, at the same time singing some verses in the Irish language in a
low, wild, and unconnected strain. The cow appeared restive and uneasy, but the
old witch still continued her mysterious chant until she had the ninth hair
extracted. She then ordered the cow to be drove back to her pasture, and again
entered the house.
"Go, now," said she to the woman, "and bring me some milk from every cow in
She went, and soon returned with a large pail filled with a frightful-looking
mixture of milk, blood, and corrupt matter. The old woman got it into the chum,
and made preparations for churning.
"Now," she said, "you both must chum, make fast the door and
windows, and let there be no light but from the fire; do not open
your lips until I desire you, and by observing my directions, I make no doubt
but, ere the sun goes down, we will find out the infernal villain who is robbing
Bryan secured the doors and windows, and commenced churning. The old
sorceress sat down by a blazing fire which had been specially lighted for the
occasion, and commenced singing the same wild song which she had sung at the
pulling of the cow-hairs, and after a little time she cast one of the nine hairs
into the fire, still singing her mysterious strain, and watching, with intense
interest, the witching process.
A loud cry, as if from a female in distress, was now heard approaching the
house; the old witch discontinued her incantations, and listened attentively.
The crying voice approached the door.
"Open the door quickly," shouted the charmer.
Bryan unbarred the door, and all three rushed out in the yard, when they
heard the same cry down the boreheen, but could see nothing.
"It is all over," shouted the old witch; "something has gone amiss, and our
charm for the present is ineffectual."
They now turned back quite crest-fallen, when, as they were entering the
door, the sybil cast her eyes downwards, and perceiving a piece of horse-shoe
nailed on the threshold,3 she vociferated--
"Here I have it; no wonder our charm was abortive. The person that was crying
abroad is the villain who has your cattle bewitched; I brought her to the house,
but she was not able to come to the door on account of that horse-shoe. Remove
it instantly, and we will try our luck again."
Bryan removed the horse-shoe from the doorway, and by the hag's
directions placed it on the floor under the chum, having previously
reddened it in the fire.
They again resumed their manual operations. Bryan and his wife began to chum,
and the witch again to sing her strange verses, and casting her cow-hairs into
the fire until she had them all nearly exhausted. Her countenance now began to
exhibit evident traces of vexation and disappointment. She got quite pale, her
teeth gnashed, her hand trembled, and as she cast the ninth and last hair into
the fire, her person exhibited more the appearance of a female demon than a
Once more the cry was heard, and an aged red-haired woman4
was seen approaching the house quickly.
"Ho, ho!" roared the sorceress, "I knew it would be so; my charm has
succeeded; my expectations are realised, and here she comes, the villain who has
"What are we to do now?" asked Bryan.
"Say nothing to her," said the hag; "give her whatever she demands, and leave
the rest to me."
The woman advanced screeching vehemently, and Bryan went out to meet her. She
was a neighbour, and she said that one of her best cows was drowning in a pool
of water--that there was no one at home but herself, and she implored Bryan to
go rescue the cow from destruction.
Bryan accompanied her without hesitation; and having rescued the cow from her
perilous situation, was back again in a quarter of an hour.
It was now sunset, and Mrs. Costigan set about preparing supper.
During supper they reverted to the singular transactions of the day. The old
witch uttered many a fiendish laugh at the success of her incantations, and
inquired who was the woman whom they had so curiously discovered.
Bryan satisfied her in every particular. She was the wife of a neighbouring
farmer; her name was Rachel Higgins; and she had been long suspected to be on
familiar terms with the spirit of darkness. She had five or six cows; but it
was observed by her sapient neighbours that she sold more butter every
year than other farmers' wives who had twenty. Bryan had, from the commencement
of the decline in his cattle, suspected her for being the aggressor, but as he
had no proof, he held his peace.
"Well," said the old beldame, with a grim smile, "it is not enough that we
have merely discovered the robber; all is in vain, if we do not take steps to
punish her for the past, as well as to prevent her inroads for the future."
"And how will that be done?" said Bryan.
"I will tell you; as soon as the hour of twelve o'clock arrives tonight, do
you go to the pasture, and take a couple of swift-running dogs with you; conceal
yourself in some place convenient to the cattle; watch them carefully; and if
you see anything, whether man or beast, approach the cows, set on the dogs, and
if possible make them draw the blood of the intruder; then ALL will be
accomplished. If nothing approaches before sunrise, you may return, and we will
try something else."
Convenient there lived the cow-herd of a neighbouring squire. He was a hardy,
courageous young man, and always kept a pair of ferocious buff-dogs. To him
Bryan applied for assistance, and he cheerfully agreed to accompany him, and,
moreover, proposed to fetch a couple of his master's best greyhounds, as his own
dogs, although extremely fierce and bloodthirsty, could not be relied on for
swiftness. He promised Bryan to be with him before twelve o'clock, and they
Bryan did not seek sleep that night; he sat up anxiously awaiting the
midnight hour. It arrived at last, and his friend, the herdsman, true to his
promise, came at the time appointed. After some further admonitions from the
Collough, they departed. Having arrived at the field, they consulted as
to the best position they could choose for concealment. At last they pitched on
a small brake of fem, situated at the extremity of the field, adjacent to the
boundary ditch, which was thickly studded with large, old white-thorn bushes.
Here they crouched themselves, and made the dogs, four in number, lie
down beside them, eagerly expecting the
appearance of their as yet unknown and mysterious visitor.
Here Bryan and his comrade continued a considerable time in nervous anxiety,
still nothing approached, and it became manifest that morning was at hand; they
were beginning to grow impatient, and were talking of returning home, when on a
sudden they heard a rushing sound behind them, as if proceeding from something
endeavouring to force a passage through the thick hedge in their rear. They
looked in that direction, and judge of their astonishment, when they perceived a
large hare in the act of springing from the ditch, and leaping on the ground
quite near them. They were now convinced that this was the object which they had
so impatiently expected, and they were resolved to watch her motions
After arriving to the ground, she remained motionless for a few moments,
looking around her sharply. She then began to skip and jump in a playful manner;
now advancing at a smart pace towards the cows, and again retreating
precipitately, but still drawing nearer and nearer at each sally. At length she
advanced up to the next cow, and sucked her for a moment; then on to the next,
and so respectively to every cow on the field--the cows all the time lowing
loudly, and appearing extremely frightened and agitated. Bryan, from the moment
the hare commenced sucking the first, was with difficulty restrained from
attacking her; but his more sagacious companion suggested to him, that it was
better to wait until she would have done, as she would then be much heavier, and
more unable to effect her escape than at present. And so the issue proved; for
being now done sucking them all, her belly appeared enormously distended, and
she made her exit slowly and apparently with difficulty. She advanced towards
the hedge where she had entered, and as she arrived just at the clump of ferns
where her foes were crouched, they started up with a fierce yell, and hallooed
the dogs upon her path.
The hare started off at a brisk pace, squirting up the milk
she had sucked from her mouth and nostrils, and the dogs making after
her rapidly. Rachel Higgins's cabin appeared, through the grey morning twilight,
at a little distance; and it was evident that puss seemed bent on gaining it,
although she made a considerable circuit through the fields in the rear. Bryan
and his comrade, however, had their thoughts, and made towards the cabin by the
shortest route, and had just arrived as the hare came up, panting and almost
exhausted, and the dogs at her very scut. She ran round the house, evidently
confused and disappointed at the presence of the men, but at length made for the
door. In the bottom of the door was a small, semi-circular aperture, resembling
those cut in fowl-house doors for the ingress and egress of poultry. To gain
this hole, puss now made a last and desperate effort, and had succeeded in
forcing her head and shoulders through it, when the foremost of the dogs made a
spring and seized her violently by the haunch. She uttered a loud and piercing
scream, and struggled desperately to free herself from his gripe, and at last
succeeded, but not until she left a piece of her ramp in his teeth. The men now
burst open the door; a bright turf fire blazed on the hearth, and the whole
floor was streaming with blood. No hare, however, could be found, and the men
were more than ever convinced that it was old Rachel, who had, by the assistance
of some demon, assumed the form of the hare, and they now determined to have her
if she were over the earth. They entered the bed-room, and heard some smothered
groaning, as if proceeding from some one in extreme agony. They went to the
comer of the room from whence the moans proceeded, and there, beneath a bundle
of freshly-cut rushes, found the form of Rachel Higgins, writhing in the most
excruciating agony, and almost smothered in a pool of blood. The men were
astounded; they addressed the wretched old woman, but she either could not, or
would not answer them. Her wound still bled copiously; her tortures appeared to
increase, and it was evident that she was dying. The aroused family thronged
around her with cries and lamentations; she did not seem to heed them,
she got worse and worse, and her piercing
yells fell awfully on the ears of the bystanders. At length she expired, and her
corpse exhibited a most appalling spectacle, even before the spirit had well
Bryan and his friend returned home. The old hag had been previously aware of
the fate of Rachel Higgins, but it was not known by what means she acquired her
supernatural knowledge. She was delighted at the issue of her mysterious
operations. Bryan pressed her much to accept of some remuneration for her
services, but she utterly rejected such proposals. She remained a few days at
his house, and at length took her leave and departed, no one knew whither.
Old Rachel's remains were interred that night in the neighbouring churchyard.
Her fate soon became generally known, and her family, ashamed to remain in their
native village, disposed of their property, and quitted the country for ever.
The story, however, is stiff fresh in the memory of the surrounding villagers;
and often, it is said, amid the grey haze of a summer twilight, may the ghost of
Rachel Higgins, in the form of a hare, be seen scudding over her favourite and
1. Dublin University Magazine, 1839.
2. Aghavoe--"the field of kine"--a beautiful and romantic village near
Borris-in-Ossory, in the Queen's County. It was once a place of considerable
importance, and for centuries the episcopal seat of the diocese of Ossory, but
for ages back it has gone to decay, and is now remarkable for nothing but the
magnificent ruins of a priory of the Dominicans, erected here at an early period
by St. Canice, the patron saint of Ossory.
was once a common practice in Ireland to nail a piece of horseshoe on the
threshold of the door, its a preservative against the influence of the fairies,
who, it is thought, dare not enter any house thus guarded. This custom, however,
is much on the wane, but still it is prevalent in some of the more uncivilised
districts of the country.
4. Red-haired people are thought to possess magic power.