The Rocks of Knockfierna
Maurice Mulreaney was well known for travelling about the countryside without fear of anything living or otherwise, as quick to cross a graveyard or fairy mound as you or I would be to cross the street, for he didn't believe in that which he couldn't see with his own two eyes or touch with his own two hands, and he didn't bother with old stories, laughing aloud when he saw farmers ploughing around fairy trees.
But for all that such a man might gather an uncanny reputation, Maurice was a welcome guest in most places for he could play the pipes in such a way that would set your feet to dancing without your knowledge, and indeed he was playing a merry tune one night in a pub near to Knockfierna.
“More power to your bellows, Maurice,” praised Pateen MacNamara, “and 'tis a pity if we should let the piper run dry! Did you have a sup for yourself?”
“I did not and I will indeed,” said Maurice, for there was never a piper or schoolmaster who refused his drink.
“And what will you have Maurice," asked Pateen.
“I'm not one to fuss,” said Maurice, “I'll drink anything but ditchwater, but if it's one and the same to yourself master MacNamara I'll have the lend of a glass of whiskey.”
“I've no glass at all Maurice,” said that that worthy, “but only the bottle!”
“Never has that bothered me,” said Maurice, “for my mouth holds exactly a glass to the drop – I've often tried it.”
So Pateen gave him the bottle, and more fool to him, for he found that while Maurice's mouth might not hold more than a single glass, there was a hole at the bottom of it that took a deal more filling.
“Not at all bad whiskey either,” said Maurice.
“We'll never know,” said Pateen mournfully, looking at the empty bottle to see was there a drop left, and there was not.
I'll tell you it was a foolish man indeed who would so tackle a bottle of whiskey, and a rare one who could stand afterwards! But stand Maurice did and reeled while he reeled, playing a tune as cheerful as any had heard.
“Play us one for the fairy folk,” shouted up old Finnegan who always had straw in his hair.
“I'll do no such thing,” said Maurice in a tipsy way, “for no fairy ever gave me a bottle or a bed!”
A hush fell in the pub then and folk looked askance at one another, some muttering that you shouldn't speak so of the fair folk. Maurice scoffed, his boldness awoken to a high pitch of bravery, and swore he'd go himself that very night to an Poul Dubh, or the Black Hole of Knockfierna atop the fairy mound of Donn, and knock at their door to see who answered!
People gathered around and tried to dissuade him, telling him about a land surveyor called Mongan who'd once tried to fathom the hole with a weighted line, but was himself pulled in and never seen again, and other such tales, but Maurice would have none of it.
“Whist ye ould women!” he cried, and staggered out the door and up the mountainside, which wasn't far away.
Up the side of the mountain he climbed, and paid no heed to the wind rising about him, or the dark cast to the sky with scudding clouds quickly covering the moon. He clambered at last to the top and wavered over and back, gazing down into the hole.
“Fairies!” he muttered to himself, and heaved up a stone bigger than his head, big enough to need both hands to heft, and flung it down the hole, leaning over to try and hear when it would hit the bottom. He waited and waited, but no sound echoed from the hole.
What came out of the hole instead was the very same rock he had dropped, and with such speed that it battered him clean off his feet and rolled him tumbling down the side of the mountain! From this boulder to that crag he bounced, far quicker than he had ascended, and in the morning Maurice was found in a tangle of thorny hazelwood, his nose broken and his face all bruised and battered, both eyes as black as if he'd boxed a champion.
From that day forward Maurice Mulreaney never again spoke ill of the fair folk, when he spoke at all, and he never drank a drop of whiskey either! And if he found himself in a dark and lonely place by night, he'd hurry on straight to wherever he was going, looking neither left nor right, in case he might see something he'd rather not looking back at him.
While you're enjoying this site you might also enjoy a little Celtic and Irish music to set the mood, or just the one or two songs if you're not interested in the whole albums. Don't forget you can get some very nice Irish jewelry for yourself or someone else as well, or for the craftier maybe make your own!
Further Folk and Faerie Tales of Ireland
||The Three Sons|
Times were hard in Ireland back years ago, and while some might say they've had it tough today, it was not a patch on the hardships people endured in times gone by. And so it was with Michael McGovern, a poor farmer with hardly an acre of stony soil to rent, who looked upon his three young sons with love for the life of them and fear for their ... [more]
There was a prince in Ireland a long, long time ago, back when Ireland still had princes, and O'Donall was his name. A brave fellow he was, and powerful, but given to risk and heedless thrills in his hunting and leaping and running and swimming, all the better to impress his friends. He was lord of a wide land, and he wasn't hard on the poo ... [more]
||The Dark Valley|
A woman was out one day looking after her sheep in the valley, and coming by a little stream she sat down to rest, when suddenly she seemed to hear the sound of low music, and turning round, beheld at some distance a crowd of people dancing and making merry. And she grew afraid and turned her head away not to see them. Then close by her stood a you ... [more]
||The Field of Ragweed|
They say that in Ireland you will enjoy all four seasons in a day, but on this day the four seasons were high and glorious summer, or so it seemed to Tom Fitzpatrick as he walked along a narrow road between two tall hedges in harvest time. As he walked, he chanced to hear a strange ringing like a tiny bell, and he paused, puzzled as to what it migh ... [more]
||The Taking of Connla|
Connla of the Fiery Hair was one of the sons of Conn of the Hundred Battles, and his favourite son, a swift and agile warrior with a voice that could make the mountains tremble. Himself and his father climbed the heights of Usna on Samhain, when he saw coming towards them a slender maiden of great beauty, clad in strange clothes.
“Where do ... [more]
||The Horned Witches|
Strange are the ways of the Fairies of Ireland, and strange the look about them, but for all their wild and untamed manner they follow rules written in the ripples of willow-branches on still ponds, and laws murmured by the echo of birdsong in deep wells.
Once there was a woman sitting in her cottage, a humble enough abode, and she was making wo ... [more]
There are many types of fairy in Ireland, some more risky than others, and some to be avoided due to their habits rather than out of any particular malevolence. Such a one is the Gan Ceanach, whose name means “Without Love”.
Although you might think such a title would indicate a friendless creature of a lonely nature lacking in socia ... [more]
There are a great many raths or fairy forts of old scattered throughout Ireland today, numbering in the tens of thousands, and it is here, the wise say, that the good people or fairy folk gather to hold their revels.
Nobody would dare to cross, let alone build on a fairy dwelling in the past, marking as they did the boundary between our civilise ... [more]
||The Tragedy of Cairn Thierna|
Near to the town of Fermoy in Ireland lies the great stack of Cairn Thierna, not as wide about nor as tall as some mountains perhaps but feared and respected by the local people nonetheless. For all around it and along its flanks are tall heaps of stones they say are the work of the fairy folk, or the old people who lived here long ago.
And you ... [more]
||Stairs of the Giant|
On the road going down to Cork there's an old set of four walls that used to once be called Ronayne's Court. Although there's little enough to see of it nowadays still the stack of the chimneys stands proud, and on it can be seen the coat of arms of the family that built it and used to live there.
They were a fine couple and had one ... [more]
It was known in times past in Ireland that there were men and women who could talk to the fairies, ask favours from them, and even live among them, and some used this acquaintance to work their will on the world, for good or for ill. Most famous, perhaps, among these people were the fairy healers of old.
Biddy Early is the best known of their ki ... [more]
||A Bride for the Fairy|
James Mac Neill was as strapping a young fellow as you could hope to meet, and likely with it. Never did he walk away from a tussle or a drink, and never far from his hand was his shillelagh. He had no fears save the lacking of a pint, no cares except for who would pay for it, and not a thought in his head but how to have fun after it.
One cold ... [more]
||The Rocks of Knockfierna|
Maurice Mulreaney was well known for travelling about the countryside without fear of anything living or otherwise, as quick to cross a graveyard or fairy mound as you or I would be to cross the street, for he didn't believe in that which he couldn't see with his own two eyes or touch with his own two hands, and he didn't bother with ol ... [more]
||An Unexpected Guest|
It wasn't a bad life for Fergus O'Hara in Owenmore, for all that himself and his wife Rose had little, the little they had was enough for them. Some goats, pigs and poultry ranged far and wide about their few acres, and a field of oats and potatoes kept them busy for the harvest and brought in a few pennies.
It so happened that there lay ... [more]
In many cultures those that used to be called insane held a special place of reverence, and were treated almost as envoys from another place, or as though they could see something nobody else could, or were dancing to music only they could hear and the rest of us were deaf to. From far-off India and China to more familiar shores people would doff t ... [more]
||The Hunchback of Knockgrafton|
The children of De Danann once ruled the island of Ireland, before they departed back to their own lands in the farthest west or went below the earth in their fairy mounds to dance and sing forevermore, but if you're lucky – or unlucky! – you might still come across them in the wild places and those deep forests yet untouched.
An ... [more]
||Aoibhell Fairy Queen of Love|
Some of the Sidhe in times of old would take a fondness for one particular family, protecting it and helping it rise in the world, and so it was with the O'Briens, who were known as the Dál gCais, or the Dalcassians. Their fairy guardian was called Aoibhell, whose name means burning ardour or beauty, depending on who you ask.
She had ... [more]
While most people nowadays believe fairies to be gentle creatures, prone to mischief perhaps and capricious by their natures yet well intended for all that, in Ireland they have a more sinister reputation. Some say, and some still believe, that the fairies will take small children and young people, leaving in their place creatures known as changeli ... [more]
||The Calf of Knockshegowna|
It's well known among those who know of such things that fairies love to dance more than anything else, and they take it ill should anything interfere with their merriment. And if someone wanted to spoil a dance, they could come up with few better ways of doing so than to send a herd of cattle wandering through!
The hill atop Knockshegowna w ... [more]
The cheerful Leprechaun is about as well known an emblem of Ireland as you could want, but what truth lies behind the stories? Well the truth is nobody really knows the truth, for leprechauns are are a cagey bunch at the best of times, not prone to gossip or holding forth on the important events of the day or the local hurling results, even after a ... [more]