Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland
The Unquiet Dead
A good many years ago when I was but beginning my study of the folk-lore of
belief, I wrote somewhere that if by an impossible miracle every trace and
memory of Christianity could be swept out of the world, it would not shake or
destroy at all the belief of the people of Ireland in the invisible world, the
cloud of witnesses, in immortality and the life to come. For them the veil
between things seen and unseen has hardly thickened since those early days of
the world when the sons of God mated with the daughters of men; when angels
spoke with Abraham in Hebron or with Columcille in the oakwoods of Derry, or
when as an old man at my own gate told me they came and visited the Fianna, the
old heroes of Ireland, "because they were so nice and so respectable." Ireland
has through the centuries kept continuity of vision, the vision it is likely all
nations possessed in the early days of faith. Here in Connacht there is no doubt
as to the continuance of life after death. The spirit wanders for a while in
that intermediate region to which mystics and theologians have given various
names, and should it return and become visible those who loved it will not be
afraid, but will, as I have already told, put a light in the window to guide the
mother home to her child, or go out into the barley gardens in the hope of
meeting a son. And if the message brought seems hardly worth the hearing, we may
call to mind what Frederic Myers wrote of more instructed ghosts:
"If it was absurd to listen to Kepler because he bade the planets move in no
perfect circles but in undignified ellipses, because he hastened and slackened
from hour to hour what ought to be a heavenly body's ideal and unwavering speed;
is it not absurder still to refuse to listen to these voices from afar, because
they come stammering and wandering as in a dream confusedly instead of with a
trumpet's call? Because spirits that bending to earth may undergo perhaps an
earthly bewilderment and suffer unknown limitations, and half remember and hall
And should they give the message more clearly who knows if it would be
welcome? For the old Scotch story goes that when S. Columcille's brother Dobhran
rose up from his grave and said, "Hell is not so bad as people say," the Saint
cried out, "Clay, clay on Dobhran!" before he could tell any more.
I was told by Mrs. Dennehy:
Those that mind the teaching of the clergy say the dead go to Limbo first and
then to Purgatory and then to hell or to heaven. Hell is always burning and if
you go there you never get out; but these that mind the old people don't
believe, and I don't believe, that there is any hell. I don't believe God
Almighty would make Christians to put them into hell afterwards.
It is what the old people say, that after death the shadow goes wandering,
and the soul is weak, and the body is taking a rest. The shadow wanders for a
while and it pays the debts it had to pay, and when it is free it puts out wings
and flies to Heaven.
An Aran Man:
There was an old man died, and after three days he appeared in the cradle as
a baby; they knew him by an old look in his face, and his face being long and
other things. An old woman that came into the house saw him, and she said, "He
won't be with you long, he had three deaths to die, and this is the second," and
sure enough he died at the end of six years.
There was a man beyond when I lived at Ballybron, and it was said of him that
he was taken away-up before God Almighty. But the blessed Mother asked for grace
for him for a year and a day. So he got it. I seen him myself, and many seen
him, and at the end of the year and a day he died. And that man ought to be
happy now anyway. When my own poor little girl was drowned in the well, I never
could sleep but fretting, fretting, fretting. But one day when one of my little
boys was taking his turn to serve the Mass he stopped on his knees without
getting up. And Father Boyle asked him what did he see and he looking up. And he
told him that he could see his little sister in the presence of God, and she
shining like the sun. Sure enough that was a vision He had sent to comfort us.
So from that day I never cried nor fretted any more.
Do you believe Roland Joyce was seen? Well, he was. A man I know told me he
saw him the night of his death, in Esserkelly where he had a farm, and a man
along with him going through the stock. And all of a sudden a train came into
the field, and brought them both away like a blast of wind.
And as for old Parsons Persse of Castleboy, there's thousands of people has
seen him hunting at night with his horses and his hounds and his bugle blowing.
There's no mistake at all about him being there.
An Aran Woman:
There was a girl in the middle island had died, and when she was being
washed, and a priest in the house, there flew by the window the whitest bird
that ever was seen. And the priest said to the father: "Do not lament, unless
what you like, your child's happy for ever!"
Near the strand there were two little girls went out to gather cow-dung. And
they sat down beside a bush to rest themselves, and there they heard a groan
Corning from under the ground. So they ran home as fast as they could. And they
were told when they went again to bring a man with them.
So the next time they went they brought a man with them, and they hadn't been
sitting there long when they heard the saddest groan that ever you heard. So the
man bent down and asked what was it. And a voice from below said, "Let some one
shave me and get me out of this, for I was never shaved after dying." So the man
went away, and the next day he brought soap and all that was needful and there
he found a body lying laid out on the grass. So he shaved it, and with that
wings came and carried it up to high heaven.
I don't believe in all I hear, or I'd believe in ghosts and faeries, with all
the old people telling you stories about them and the priests believing in them
too. Surely the priests believe in ghosts, and tell you that they are souls that
died in trouble. But I have been about the country night and day, and I remember
when I used to have to put my hand out at the top of every chimney in Coole
House; and I seen or felt nothing to frighten me, except one night two rats
caught in a trap at Roxborough; and the old butler came down and beat me with a
belt for the scream I gave at that. But if I believed in any one coming back, it
would be in what you often hear, of a mother coming back to care for her child.
And there's many would tell you that every time you see a tree shaking
there's a ghost in it
Old Lambert of Dangan was a terror for telling stories; he told me long ago
how he was near the Piper's gap on Ballybrit racecourse, and he saw one riding
to meet him, and it was old Michael Lynch of Ballybrista, that was dead long
before, and he never would go on the racecourse again. And he had heard the car
with headless horses driving through Loughrea. From every part they are said to
drive, and the place they are all going to is Benmore, near Loughrea, where
there is a ruined dwelling-house and an old forth. And at Mount Mahon a herd
told me the other day he often saw old Andrew Mahon riding about at night. But
if I was a herd and saw that I'd hold my tongue about it.
At the graveyard of Drumacoo often spirits do he seen. Old George Fitzgerald
is seen by many. And when they go up to the stone he's sitting on, he'll be
sitting somewhere else.
There was a man walking in the wood near there, and he met a woman, a
stranger, and he said "Is there anything I can do for you?" For he thought she
was some countrywoman gone astray. "There is," says she. "Then come home with
me," says he, "and tell me about it." "I can't do that," says she, "but what you
can do is this, go tell my friends I'm in great trouble, for twenty times in my
life I missed going to church, and they must say twenty Masses for me now to
deliver me, but they seem to have forgotten me. And another thing is," says she,
"there's some small debts I left and they're not paid, and those are helping to
keep me in trouble." Well. the man went on and he didn't know what in the world
to do, for he couldn't know who she was, for they are not permitted to tell
their name. But going about visiting at country houses he used to tell the
story, and at last it came out she was one of the Shannons. For at a house he
was telling it at they remembered that an old woman thev had. died a year ago,
and that she used to be running un little debts unknown to them. So they made
inquiry at Findlater's and at another shop that's done away with now, and they
found tnat sure enough she had left some small debts, not more than ten
shillings in each, and when she died no more had been said about it. So they
paid these and said the Masses, and shortly after she appeared to the man again.
"God bless you now," she said, "for what you did for me, for now I'm at peace."
A Tinker's Daughter:
I heard of what happened to a family in the town. One night a thing that
looked like a goose came in. And when they said nothing to it, it went away up
the stairs with a noise like lead. Surely if they had questioned it, they'd have
found it to be some soul in trouble.
And there was another soul came back that was in trouble because of a
ha'porth of salt it owed.
And there was a priest was in trouble and appeared after death, and they had
to say Masses for him, because he had done some sort of a crime on a widow.
One time myself I was at Killinan, at a house of the Clancys' where the
father and mother had died, but it was well known they often come to look after
the children. I was walking with another girl through the fields there one
evening and I looked up and saw a tall woman dressed all in black, with a mantle
of some sort, a wide one, over her head, and the waves of the wind were blowing
it off her, so that I could hear the noise of it. All her clothes were black,
and had the appearance of being new. And I asked the other girl did she see her,
and she said she did not. For two that are together can never see such things,
but only one of them. So when I heard she saw nothing I ran as if for my life,
and the woman seemed to be coming after me, till I crossed a running stream and
she had no power to cross that. And one time my brother was stopping in the same
house, and one night about twelve o'clock there came a smell in the house like
as if all the dead people were there. And one of the girls whose father and
mother had died got up out of her bed, and began to put her clothes on, and they
had to lock the doors to stop her from going away out of the house.
There was a woman I knew of that after her death was kept for seven years in
a tree m Kinadyfe, and for seven years after that she was kept under the arch of
the little bridge beyond Kilchriest, with the water running under her. And
whether there was frost or snow she had no shelter from it) not so much as the
size of a leaf.
At the end of the second seven years she came to her husband, and he passing
the bridge on the way home from Loughrea, and when he felt her near him he was
afraid, and he didn't stop to question her, but hurried on.
So then she came in the evening to the house of her own little girl. But she
was afraid when she saw her, and fell down in a faint. And the woman's sister's
child was in the house, and when the little girl told her what she saw, she said
"You must surely question her when she comes again." So she came again that
night, but the little girl was afraid again when she saw her and said nothing.
But the third night when she came the sister's child, seeing her own little girl
was afraid, said "God bless you, God bless you." And with that the woman spoke
and said "God bless you for saying that." And then she told her all that had
happened her and where she had been all the fourteen years. And she took out of
her dress a black silk handkerchief and said: "I took that from my husband's
neck the day I met him on the road from Loughrea, and this very night I would
have killed him, because he hurried away and would not stop to help me, but now
that you have helped me I'll not harm him. But bring with you to Kilmaeduagh, to
the graveyard, three cross sticks with wool on them, and three glasses full of
salt, and have three Masses said for me; and I'll appear to you when I am at
rest." And so she did; and it was for no great thing she had done that trouble
had been put upon her.
That house with no roof was made a hospital of in the famine, and many died
there. And one night my father was passing by and he saw some one standing all
in white, and two men beside him, and he thought he knew one of the men and
spoke to him and said "Is that you, Martin?" But he never spoke nor moved. And
as to the thing in white, he could not say was it man or woman, but my father
never went by that place again at night.
The last person buried in a graveyard has the care of all the other souls
until another is to he buried, and then the soul can go and shift for itself. It
may be a week or a month or a year, but watch the place it must till another
There was a man used to be giving short measure, not giving the full yard,
and one time after his death there was a man passing the river and the horse he
had would not go into it. And he heard the voice of the tailor saying from the
river he had a message to send to his wife, and to tell her not to be giving
short measure, or she would be sent to the same place as him-self. There was a
hymn made about that.
There was a woman lived in Rathkane, alone in the house, and she told me that
one night something came and lay over the bed and gave three great moans. That
was all ever she heard in the house.
The shadows of the dead gather round at Samhain time to see is there any one
among their friends saying a few Masses for them.
Down there near the point, on the 6th of March, 1883, there was a curragh
upset and five boys were drowned. And a man from County Clare told me that he
was on the coast that day, and that he saw them walking towards him on the
There is a house down there near the sea, and one day the woman of it was
sitting by the fire, and a little girl came in at the door, and a red cloak
about her, and she sat down by the fire. And the woman asked her where did she
come from, and she said that she had just come from Connemara. And then she went
out, and when she was going out the door she made herself known to her sister
that was standing in it, and she called out to the mother. And when the mother
knew it was the child she had lost near a year before, she ran out to call her,
for she wouldn't for all the world to have not known her when she was there. But
she was gone and she never came agam.
There was this boy's father took a second wife, and he was walking home one
evening, and his wife behind him, and there was a great wind blowing, and he
kept his head stooped down because of the seaweed coming blowing into his eyes.
And she was about twenty paces behind, and she saw his first wife come and walk
close beside him, and he never saw her, having his head down, but she kept with
him near all the way. And when they got borne, she told the husband who was with
him, and with the fright she got she was bad in her bed for two or three day--do
you remember that, Martin? She died after, and he has a third wife taken now.
I believe all that die are brought among them, except maybe an odd old
A Kildare Woman:
There was a woman I knew sent into the Rotunda Hospital for an operation. And
when she was going she cried when she was saying good-bye to her cousin that was
a friend of mine, for she felt in her that she would not come back again. And
she put her two arms about her going away and said, "If the dead can do any good
thing for the living, I'll do it for you." And she never recovered, but died in
the hospital. And within a few weeks something came on her cousin, my
friend, and they said it was her side that was paralysed, and she died. And many
said it was no common illness, but that it was the dead woman that had kept to
A Connemara Man:
There was a boy in New York was killed by rowdies, they killed him standing
against a lamp-post and he was frozen to it, and stood there till morning. And
it is often since that time he was seen in the room and the passages of the
house where he used to be living.
And in the house beyond a woman died, and some other family came to live in
it; but every night she came back and stripped the clothes off them, so at last
they went away.
When some one goes that owes money, the weight of the soul is more than the
weight of the body, and it can't get away and keeps wandering till some one has
courage to question it.
My grandmother told my mother that in her time at Cloughhallymore, there was
a woman used to appear in the churchyard of Rathkeale, and that many boys and
girls and children died with the fright they got when they saw her.
So there was a gentleman living near was very sorry for all the children
dying, and he went to an old woman to ask her was there any way to do away with
the spirit that appeared. So she said if any one would have courage to go and to
question it, he could do away with it. So the gentleman went at midnight and
waited at the churchyard, and he on his horse, and had a sword with him. So
presently the shape appeared and he called to it and said, "Tell me what you
are?" And it came over to him, and when he saw the face he got such a fright
that he turned the horse's head and galloped away as hard as he could. But after
galloping a long time he looked down and what did he see beside him but the
woman running and her hand on the horse. So he took his sword and gave a slash
at her, and cut through her arm, so that she gave a groan and vanished, and he
went on home.
And when he got to the stable and had the lantern lighted, you may think what
a start he got when he saw the hand still holding on to the horse, and no power
could lift it off. So he went into the house and said his prayers to Almighty
God to take it off. And all night long, he could hear moaning and crying about
the house. And in the morning when he went out the hand was gone, but all the
stable was splashed with blood. But the woman was never seen in those parts
A Seaside Man:
And many see the faeries at Knock and there was a carpenter died, and he
could be heard all night in his shed making coffins and carts and all sorts of
things, and the people are afraid to go near it. There were four boys from Knock
drowned five years ago, and often now they are seen walking on the strand and in
the fields and about the village.
There was a man used to go out fowling, and one day his sister said to him,
"Whatever you do don't go out tonight and don't shoot any wild-duck or any birds
you see flying-for tonight they are all poor souls travelling."
An Old Man in Galway Workhouse:
Burke of Carpark's son died, but he used often to be seen going about
afterwards. And one time a herd of his father's met with him and he said, "Come
tonight and help us against the hurlers from the north, for they have us beat
twice, and if they beat us a third time, it will be a bad year for Ireland."
It was in the daytime they had the hurling match through the streets of
Gaiway. No one could see them, and no one could go outside the door while it
lasted, for there went such a whirl-wind through the town that you could not
look through the window.
And he sent a message to his father that he would find some paper he was
looking for a few days before, behind a certain desk, between it and the wall,
and the father found it there. He would not have believed it was his son the
herd met only for that.
A Munster Woman:
I have only seen them myself like dark shadows, but there's many can see them
as they are. Surely they bring away the dead among them.
There was a woman in County Limerick that died after her baby being born. And
all the people were in the house when the funeral was to be, crying for her. And
the cars and the horses were out on the road. And there was seen among them a
carriage full of ladies, and with them the woman was sitting that they were
crying for, and the baby with her, and it dressed.
And there was another woman I knew of died, and left a family, and often
after, the people saw her in their dreams, and always in rich clothes, though
all the clothes she had were given away after she died, for the good of her
soul, except maybe her shawl. And her husband married a serving girl after that,
and she was hard to the children, and one night the woman came back to her, and
had like to throw her out of the window in her nightdress, till she gave a
promise to treat the children well, and she was afraid not to treat them well
There was a farmer died and he had done some man out of a saddle, and he came
back after to a friend, and gave him no rest till he gave a new saddle to the
man he had cheated.
There was a woman my brother told me about and she had a daughter that was
red-haired. And the girl got married when she was under twenty, for the mother
had no man to tend the land, so she thought best to let her go. And after her
baby being born, she never got strong but stopped in the bed, and a great many
doctors saw her but did her no good.
And one day the mother was at Mass at the chapel and she got a start, for she
thought she saw her daughter come in to the chapel with the same shawl and
clothes on her that she had be-fore she took to the bed, but when they came out
from the chapel, she wasn't there. So she went to the house, and asked was she
after going out, and what they told her was as if she got a blow, for they said
the girl hadn't ten minutes to live, and she was dead before ten minutes were
out And she appears now sometimes; they see her drawing water from the well at
night and bringing it into the house, but they find nothing there in the
A Connemara Man:
There was a man had come back from Boston, and one day he was out in the bay,
going towards Aran with £3 worth of cable he was after getting from McDonagh's
store in Gaiway. And he was steering the boat, and there were two turf-boats
along with him, and all in a minute they saw he was gone, swept off the boat
with a wave and it a dead calm.
And they saw him come up once, straight up as if he was pushed, and then he
was brought down again and rose no more.
And it was some time after that a friend of his in Boston, and that was
coming home to this place, was in a crowd of people out there. And he saw him
coming to him and he said, "I heard that you were drowned," and the man said, "I
am not dead, but I was brought here, and when you go home, bring these three
guineas to McDonagh in Galway for it's owned him for the cable I got from him."
And he put the three guineas in his hand and vanished away.
An Old Army Man:
I have seen hell myself. I had a sight of it one time in a vision. It had a
very high wall around it, all of metal, and an archway in the wall, and a
straight walk into it, just like what would be leading into a gentleman's
orchard, but the edges were not trimmed with box but with red-hot metal. And
inside the wall there were cross walks, and I'm not sure what there was to the
right, but to the left there was five great furnaces and they full of souls kept
there with great chains. So I turned short and went away; and in turning I
looked again at the wall and I could see no end to it.
And another time I saw purgatory. It seemed to be in a level place and no
walls around it, but it all one bright blaze, and the souls standing in it And
they suffer near as much as in hell only there are no devils with them there and
they have the hope of heaven.
And I heard a call to me from there "Help me to come out of this!" And when I
looked it was a man I used to know in the army, an Irishman and from this
country, and I believe him to be a descendant of King O'Connor of Athenry. So I
stretched out my hand first but then I called out "I'd be burned in the flames
before I could get within three yards of you." So then he said, "Well, help me
with your prayers," and so I do.