The Mallacht - Art of the Irish Curse
Irish and Celtic myths and legends, Irish folklore and Irish fairy tales tales of Ireland
Through his occult power, he turned on them a magic breath
Cursing of various sorts has a history as long and rich as Ireland's own, stretching from the very earliest tales of the first settlers in Ireland all the way to the modern day. Whether a quick muttered malediction on someone who had crossed you or an elaborate, lengthy poem intended to satirise and ruin the legacy of a king, the mallacht, or curse, has served many purposes through the ages.
Curses were divided into various types – from the casual curse to the openly occult piseóg, as well as Druidic battle curses called the Anáil Siabhráin, which meant the breath of the demon, or the breath of the underworld. It was used to great effect at the siege of Knocklong:
“Through his occult power, he turned on them a magic breath
and as a result every man in the crowd took on the appearance of the druid himself.
Each man became a grey-haired imposing figure such as the druid himself was.
They had crossed the stream in pursuit of the druid
and now they turned on each other and the massacre began.
There was pulling out of hair, struggling, giving blow for blow
and each one delivering mighty savage strokes on the breast and face of the other
for each one believed that it was the druid himself that he was attacking.”
"After this, Colpa set out for the ford at Ráithín an Iomardaigh and while he was on his way from the camp Mogh Roith dispatched a magic breath northwards against him so that the stones and sand of the earth became furious devastating balls of fire all the way to the ford. Only with difficulty could Colpa put his foot on the ground as the fire singed and scorched him and the sedges of the plain turned into raging dogs barking and screaming at him. And it was as if the bushes of the plain were savage, immense, rough, fat-necked oxen who roared and screamed at his approach. Seeing all this, Colpa was filled with dread."
Géises were a kind of curse or forbidding which was placed on every Irish person at their birth, usually being a list of things they were to avoid or disaster would follow. The sugán was a twist of straw rope with curse words bound into it as it was woven, and there were also intricate bardic curses, or the curses of the file, which meant poets or more often seers.
Before battles began in earnest, heroes would first engage in a duel of curses and formal insults, the bríatharcath, and their wives sometimes got in on it too! The terror of the curse was so widespread and persistent that by the seventeenth century, laws were passed in Ireland by both the Church and the nobility forbidding the “monstrous curse”.
Gaelic was considered far superior to English when it came to cursing, with at least thirteen different words to describe a curse and many others for the act of cursing and identifying the accursed as well!
But most cursing was of a more mundane and workaday sort, such as “that ye may never have a day’s luck! That all belonging to ye may die with the hunger! That your eyes may fall out of your head!”
The solemn curse was a more serious business, and just how serious it was depended on who was casting it – the unpaid blacksmith was notorious for the power of his curses, the curse of a spurned beggar was feared, the curse of a widow cast from her home was to be avoided at all costs, but none came close to the awesome supernatural force of the priest's curse.
Priests in Ireland employed curses for all sorts of purposes, in their conflicts with the protestant English, to shame parishioners who were acting in a scandalous way in public, and even to get votes for Irish candidates during such elections as were held!
But of course it wasn't just the priests using curses for political gain, as one letter sent to a landlord in the late 19th century showed:
“may you wither up by the fire of hell soon and sudden, may the flesh rot off your bones, and fall away putrid before your eyes, and may the consolation of eternal flames come to be your consolation in your last illness, and the hearthstone of hell be your pillow for ever”
Not to beat around the bush or anything! But as lyrical as the Irish solemn curse was, it couldn't hold a candle to the curses of the old people of Ireland. Such an art did they make of it that only certain grades of Druid, Poet and Satirist could use particular forms of cursing, and the curses themselves were carefully divided into three parts.
The satirical curse was known as the Áer, which means cutting or slashing, and the satirist was a terrible enemy indeed, for their curses were meant to take literal immediate effect, like unseen magical weapons. Satirising a person without good cause or without proper authority entitled the victim to the same fee as if they had been murdered! Members of the poetic orders would be hired as mercenaries to lampoon the enemies of powerful Irish lords.
There were three types of satirical curse, and these were declaration, insult, and incantation. Each of these three types were again divided into many parts, for example the satirical curse of the incantation, of which there were ten types.
The ten were called “son of womb” or innuendo, “word in opposition”, the satire of outrage, the outrage of praise, the touch of satire, the touch of praise, full satire, sarcasm and glám dícind, a type of spell which results in the guilty party manifesting three blisters on his face in an endless or permanent bite, and finally the “dark word” spoken in private, which caused various forms of blindness.
To show the power of the glám dícind we need look no further than the tales of Cú Chulainn, whose own foster brother Ferdiad is forced to fight against him to the death, for fear of the shame that could be inflicted by the satirists, the biters of cheeks, who were employed by Queen Medb.
We find in other ancient tales the power of a justified curse, as when the poet Cairpre was received poorly by his host, the noble Bres. He was taken to a narrow, dark and dim little hut for his lodging, and given three little dry cakes for his breakfast, so he decided to cast a satirical curse upon his ungracious benefactor.
“Without food speedily on a platter,
Without a cow’s milk whereon a calf thrives,
Without a man’s habitation after the staying of darkness,
Be that the luck of Bres Mac Eladain”
And so it came to pass!
It would seem that the justification of a curse was important, and the curse would only work on someone who deserved it. A curse cast without good reason would not only fail, it would rebound back on the ill-wisher unless they quickly cancelled their curse with a prayer! “When we do not deserve the curse we would not heed it, the curse of the wicked never availed,” as one farmer in Mayo was heard to say.
Curses could be defeated with a quick riposte, so that if someone said “bad luck to you,” you could negate the malediction by quickly saying “good luck to you, and may neither of them come true!” So the best curses were well prepared in advance, being complicated and difficult to answer.
Here are some example Irish curses:
Loscadh is dó ort
That you may be burned and scorched
Droch chrích ort
Bad ending upon you
Imeacht gan teacht ort
That you may leave without returning
Go dtuitfeadh an tigh ort
That your house will fall upon you
Droch áird chúgat lá gaoithe
That you may be badly positioned on a windy day
Mallacht mo chait ort
My cat’s curse upon you
Mallacht na baintrí ort
A widow’s curse upon you
Mallacht Dé ort
God’s curse upon you
Go mbrise an diabhal do dhá chois
That the Devil may break your legs
Go ndéana an diabhal dréimire do chnámh do dhroma
That the Devil will make a ladder out of your spine
Léan ort
Sorrow betide you
Go dtitfidh an oíche ort
That night will befall you
Briseadh agus brú ort
Strife and stress upon you
Go ndéanfaidh an diabhal cipín dod’ dhá chois
That the Devil makes splinters of your legs
An áit thíos atá ceapaithe duit, a dhiabhal.
It is the place below that is meant for you, you devil
Go ndalladh an diabhal thú
That the Devil may blind you
Lagú cléibh ort
Weariness of heart upon you
Fán fada ort
Long may you be astray
Go stolladh an diabhal thú
That the Devil may lacerate you
Go séideadh an diabhal san aer tú
May the Devil blow you into the air
Nár eirigh an lá leat
That you may not be successful on the day
Go dtachtfadh an diabhal thú
May the Devil choke you
Go bhfaghaine bás gan an sagart
I hope you die without a priest
Imeacht gan do thuairisc ort
That you may never be heard of again
Go marbhaí an diabhal tú
That the Devil may kill you
Náire agus aithir chugat
That you may be shamed and disgraced
Ualach sé chapall de chré na h-úire ort
Six horseloads of graveyard clay upon you
Go n-ullamhuighe an diabhal teinne dhuit
That the Devil may prepare a fire for you
Go n-imi an droch aimsir leat
That the bad weather leaves with you
Dul go h-olc ort
Bad luck to you
Is ceann de’s na h-óinseacha diabhail thú
You are one of the Devil’s fools
Mullach do chinn fút
That you may fall on your head
Go dtachtar le d’anáil thú
That you may choke on your breath
Buineach dhearg go dtigidh ort
That you may have red diarrhoea
The practice of cursing persists in Ireland to the present day, although not to the extent it used to of course, although even fairly recently there are records of sophisticated curses being laid upon evildoers.
In the 19th century people who were being evicted would cast the “fire of stones” curse, building up a pile of stones in every hearth in the house, saying “not until these fires burn shall the newcomers have any good luck”.
In Donegal around 1884 there was a hated landlord who had demolished almost fifty homes so that he could have a better view of the landscape, and of him it was said “on Tory Island, off the Donegal coast, there is a stone which, if it could be turned, and the name of Mr Adair repeated over it, would have been sure to bring about his death within a year.” Tory island was reputed to be the ancient home of the dark sorcerer Balor of the evil eye.
Some twenty years later the curse was repeated, when the HMS Wasp was sent to evict Inishtrahull islanders who were in arrears on their rent. However, as the ship approached the island at about 4am, it ran aground and quickly sank, taking fifty two of the fifty eight crewmen down with it.
As the story went, a man who claimed to be the King of Tory Island, a strange fellow by the name of Heggarty, had unleashed the curse of the stones upon the ship and sank it. When the local priest heard of this pagan carry-on however, he went to the clifftop and took the stones from their bullaun resting place, throwing them into the ocean in rage, and they have never been seen since.
Ballinamallard, which means “the ford of the curses”, is marked on the map below.
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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]
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]
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]
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]
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]
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]
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]
Irish legends from time immemorial have a great deal to say about the land of the fairies, the home of the Tuatha De Danann, or the world of the Sidhe. There are those who claim it lies beneath fairy mounds or on the other side of deep caves where Druids once held tryst and shared magical secrets, while other tales tell of heroes and adventurers, e ... [more]
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]
After the Tuatha De Dannan were defeated in battle by the great race of Milesians, who held sway in Ireland long after, some of the Tuatha decided to leave and go elsewhere while some chose to stay in Ireland. Those that stayed agreed that they must live beneath the earth, and they were led by a great King in the west, Finnbhear son of Dagda, who i ... [more]
Some might wonder, who or what are the fairy folk? There are stories upon stories of them and their doings in many places, but most of all in Ireland, where it was said they lived longest and if they still walk the earth, where they can yet be found! The country folk claim they are fallen angels lacking the merit to stay in heaven while being kindl ... [more]
