Latest Folklore

So many raths. But this one’s stoney and could be the right one for the story. I like the way the story was up to date at the time of writing (the 1930s) and features named people and contemporary events.

After the Ambush near Cliffoney in October 1920, the Black and Tans burned to the ground a house in Cliffony owned by a family named McCannon. The father and a son were arrested and lodged in Derry Gaol and three other sons had to go “on the run”. They were all prominent Sinn Feiners. One of the sons, D[?] McCannon, who did not take any part in the movement was not molested. The mother and he went to live in a cottage in the townland of Ballinphull, near the village of Cliffoney.

Their former residence which was destroyed by the Tans was in the townland of Cartron. Their land, which comprised a few fields lay to the rear of their dwelling home. The entrance to their new home in the cottage was a very soft and boggy path. The boys who were [?] used often at dead of night and in terror of their lives come back to visit their mother and brother.
The Tans were active and paid many a visit to the cottage.

D[?] McCannon decided to make a rough path to his cottage so that no boot tracks could be seen, and in this way give no clue to the Tans as to the visits of the boys. Helped by his uncle, Pat Clancy, he removed some stones from an old fort on his land at Cartron, broke them up and so made a good solid path to his house. The day after the work was completed, D[?] had to go to a fair. It would necessitate his being away two nights to get his business done. The first night the mother was all alone and an uneasy night she spent.

About midnight she heard a terrible noise around the house. An argument appeared to be going on. Thinking it was the boys who had some trouble among themselves she did not open the door for a considerable time. Then anxious to know what was happening and wondering why they did not knock she opened the door and went outside when to her amazement no person could be seen. Returning to the house she went to bed, but did not sleep that night.

Next day she informed her brother Pat Clancy. He said he would keep her company that night. He did so and such a night. The running of people around the house – the arguments – the shouting and screeching of people, as they thought, were terrible to listen to. Pat Clancy ordered his nephew D[?] Mc Cannon, who returned from the fair the following day, to leave the stones, although now broken up into small pieces, back at the old fort again. D[?] gathered up all the pieces of broken stone, and carted them back to the fort.

From that time forth, Mrs McCannon and her son had no more trouble, except visits from Black and Tans.

From the Schools Collection, currently being digitised at Duchas.ie.

But then again, there’s another story about the McCannon family – they must have been daring or daft to try stealing the stones twice. This was before their house burnt down and they had to move. I can’t help thinking that cows are probably stubborn animals – how lethargic were they really?

In the year 1917, the MrCannon family were building a byre at the rear of their dwelling house. Building stones were very scarce at that place, and it was necessary for them to take stones from the fort.

It was in the month of May and as the weather was good, the cows were out at night. D[?] Mc Cannon proceeded to the field to milk the cows and was surprised to find all four lying down.
He tried by every means in his power to get them to stand but without avail. Going back to the house he informed his brothers who in turn acquainted the neighbours. They all proceeded to the field again and tried to force the cows to get up, but as before it was unavailing.

An elderly man amongst them who knew that they had taken stones from the fort said “Boys, leave back those stones, you took from the fort yesterday.” The stones were carted back to the fort the following day, and in the evening the cows were on their feet, and gave their milk as usual, and were as healthy as ever.

From the document here.

This fort is in the area marked ‘Greyfort’ on the 6” map, so I imagine it’s the one in question. It’s interesting to see that Christian priests are not immune from the weirdness (fairies are not mentioned by name but are surely implied).The stories are told by Nuala O Donnell as part of the Schools Collection of Irish folklore in the 1930s. The collection is being digitised at duchas.ie.

There are a number of forts situated in this locality, but the most convenient one to my home is situated in the townland of Greyfort. It is called a “rath”. Old people say that the priest’s residence which is in the same townland, is erected on a fort.

There are a few peculiar stories attached to this fort. At the present time people are advised not to interfere with a fort. Some people abide by this advice, but others do not. One time a man went into the fort to cut some bushes. Another man on seeing his foolishness, begged of him not to interfere with the bushes, bu the man being self-willed continued his work, with the result that he got a thorn in his finger, which he never succeeded in getting out. He got every cure available, but they were all unsuccessful, and he died within four days.

We are also told another story of a priest who put his horse grazing in the ring of the fort. After some time he sent his attendant out for him, ordering him to put the animal into the stable, and the servant obeyed the order. The horse vanished, and the servant after spending hours searching for him, went and informed the priest what had occurred. He was very angry, and he said whoever performed the act would not benefit by it. This came to pass because the man who interfered with the horse died, and his son who was a student in college left it, and he never procured a position.

There is another story connected with this fort. One time a man got married, and that night he and his wife were standing at the door, when a number of horsemen came out of the fort. The man in fun said “take this woman with ye” and immediately she vanished. He was stunned by the thought of his wife’s being gone but later, to his great astonishment he saw her riding a beautiful horse. She had a knife in her hand and she said to her husband, “if you give me a stroke of this knife you can have me” but the man fearing to do this allowed her to go, but she never returned again. Lights were to be seen in this fort long ago.

Maybe this is Johnny Walsh’s fort. Or if not, it’s certainly nearby. This is a story from the Schools Collection of the National Folklore Collection. The documents from the 1930s are being digitised at duchas.ie.

There are a number of forts in this locality and some of them are Johnny Walsh’s fort, John Dwyer’s fort, Mick Murren’s, and the one in the castle field. These forts were built in the time of the Finbolg, and they used them to preserve their houses from the wild animals and from their enemies.

Johnny Walsh’s fort is situated about half a mile from the school. It is circular in shape, and for this reason also it is called a ring. There is a fence around it, and there is also a plantation of trees around it. There are a number of old stories attached to it. It is said that there was a man ploughing in the field, and that he went to plough the fort also, but the fort opened up and swallowed the plough and horses. There is an entrance hole to it, and two fishing rods would not reach to the end of it.

One night as two young men were coming home from a neighbours house, they saw a funeral coming from the fort, and as it was the custom of that time, that anyone who met a funeral should go back a few yards with it. The two young men decided to go back a small piece with the funeral. As they were going along, they took the coffin to carry it, but as soon as they took it the funeral went away, and the two young men were left to carry the coffin. At first they did not know what to do, but after some time they decided to bring it to their house. When they reached the house they opened the coffin, and they found a live girl inside it. They asked her who she was, but she did not know, so they kept her in the house.

Sometime afterwards the man of the house went to the fair to buy a cow. He bought the cow, and that man told him how his daughter was taken away by the fairies, and so it happened that the girl who was taken out of the coffin belonged to the man who sold the cow.

There were also a number of wild animals seen in the vicinity of the fort. The old people tell us that it’s not lucky to interfere with the forts, as they belong to the fairies.

Here’s another story about the raths in Cloghoge Upper:

The nearest fort to my home is situated in Mc Gaughan’s field. It is called a liss. It is circular in shape. There is a cave in this fort, and sometimes people have gone down and explored it. It is said that it was the Tuatha De Dannans that made it. If anyone interfered with the fort, it is said that they would die before that day twelve months. One day two men began to plough up the field. As soon as they began to dig up the ground, the horses fell dead. They got frightened as soon as they saw what had happened. They ran round and told all the neighbours what had happened. They then promised that from that day forward, they never would interfere with a fort again. As soon as they said these words, the horses got up and began to walk about.
There is another story connected with this fort. One day a man went out hunting and had not gone far, when he saw a rabbit sitting in a fort. He fired a shot, and hit him on the leg. On the minute the rabbit was changed into a woman. She began to run towards the nearest house to her. When she arrived at the house, she jumped in on the window. The man followed her as far as the house, and when he looked in on the window, he saw her spinning wool.

Every night between twelve and two o’clock, the rattling of chains is to be heard. There is singing also heard in it.

There are several raths in Cloghoge, but this might be the right one for the story! It certainly has earthen banks.

The nearest fairy fort to my home is situated on Brian Healy’s land in Cloghogue. It is circular in shape and there is an earthen fence around it. One evening a man named Brian was passing by this fort with a cow when two horsemen rode up to him and asked him if he was a cow doctor. The man answered, and said he was. They asked then would he come and see a sick cow which they had. The man answered and said he would, when he had the cow tied. The men thanked him, and said they would wait there until he would come back. When Brian came back they had a horse ready for him. He mounted the horse and they rode away. After a long ride, they came to a two storey barn. The men brought him into the second storey of the barn. There was dancing going on underneath.
There was a small hole in the floor through which a light rod could go. One of the men that was with Brian put a rod through the hole and touched one of the girls that was dancing with it on the nose. The girl sneezed but no one said ‘God bless us’. The man touched her three times with the rod, and she sneezed each time. The third time Brian said ‘God bless us’ when no other one would say it. Immediately, the light went out, and Brian was left in the dark by himself.
The next morning, Brian left the barn and went into the house nearest to him. The man of the house told him he was a long way from home. He then gave him food that would do him on his journey.

I like the sense of bewilderment and non-resolution. This is from the Schools Collection which was made in the 1930s, and which is now being digitised at duchas.ie.

There are three raths in this area, but this one seems to be the best preserved, judging from the aerial photographs. Perhaps it’s this one that’s the source of this story in the Schools Collection (written in the 1930s, now being digitised at duchas.ie).

There is a fort situated about one mile from the village of Ballylongford in the townland of Ballyline, in the land which now belongs to Patrick Diggins. It is round in shape and is surrounded by trees.
John Diggins had a man employed to knock the fort. The servant went to the Priest to ask if he could knock the fort, and the Priest told him that if he got any other work to do not to mind the fort. He told this to his master and the master himself went to knock it. He got a stroke of a branch into the eye and he lost the sight of that eye. He went at it again and cut the trees and ploughed the fort and set corn in it, and after twelve months, the fort grew up again.

And here’s another. It’s perhaps more frightening but the protagonist doesn’t seem too bothered.

There is a fort in the townland of Ballyline in the land of Mr. Patrick Lavery about two miles from Ballylongford. This fort is circular in shape and it is surrounded by white thorn and black thorn bushes. There is a gap in it and there is a path near it.
One night there was a man from Ballyline named John O’Brien going home and he heard great noise in the fort. He looked in and he saw a great crowd of men inside sitting at a table on which there were plenty eatables and drinkables. One of the men invited him in, and he went and had a good time. He recognised a few of the men that were dead for years. Towards morning the crowd disappeared and the man went home after a good night.

The information on the Historic Environment Viewer says this rath is on high ground which ‘presents an excellent view of the surrounding countryside’, how lovely. Its story (which mixes various folklore themes) comes from the Schools Collection of the National Folklore Collection, written down in the 1930s, and currently being digitised at duchas.ie.

There is a fort in the townland of Ahanagran in the land of Thomas Fimertry. Every day there was a hare seen in this fort. This hare had only one ear.

One morning a number of men decided that they would kill the hare. They set off for the fort with a number of dogs. When they reached the fort, they saw the hare, but any one of the dogs would not touch him. Then the men followed the hare themselves, until they reached the bottom of the third field from the fort. All at once, a big hole opened in the ground and the hare went in.

The men followed the hare, but when they reached the bottom of the hole, to their surprise, instead of a hare being there they saw an old woman. They asked her if she saw any hare, but no sooner had they said it than the old woman disappeared. Then the men came up again, and the hole closed, but the hare was never again seen.

There are two fairy forts in the district. One of them is situated in the town land of Dromore and the other in Lisacarn. They are all in view of other. They are round in shape and with a fence of bushes around them and a big mound of earth. There is a large hole in the middle of the forth which is situated in Dromore. In the hole there are two large stones. It is said that there is a crock of gold underneath them. And it is also said that before the gold is got that there are three lives to be lost at it. It is said that there is a cat in the fort minding the crock of gold.

There is a story told about this fort. There was a man and he dreamed three nights after other that there was money in the fort and if he went and dug and it, he would get the money and he dreamed that there would be three lives lost at it, so he went to the fort and brought a dog with him. When he started to dig around the stones a little white bird came and lit on the stone beside him. After a while his dog died. Then he got afraid and ran home to his house.

It is said that the Danes built these forts to save themselves from the wild animals. In olden times fairies used to live in them. The owner of the land never interferes with the fort. Some people say that long ago there used to be lights seen at it and there used to be music and churning heard at night.

A tale from the Schools Collection, which was made in the 1930s for the National Folklore Collection (and which is now being digitised at duchas.ie).

Forts are places where Fairies live. There is a lot of Forts in the surrounding district. There is one in Lisacarn, Dromore, and Kilthyhugh. They are all in view of each other.
I know a man who got a walk out of the one in Kilthyhugh. One night he was late coming out of town. It was 12 pm when he came into the house. He got a bag and went over to a neighbour’s house for turf. He went over safely and the man of the house gave him the turf. The man told him to mind the Fort and not walk into it. The man did not know the place very well because he was only a new comer to the place and his house was in front of the fort. The man put the bag of turf on his back. After leaving the man he walked headlong into the fort. He was thrown out of the fort again and the Fairies walked him through the fields and every ditch he came to both him and the bag of turf were thrown across. When he had come through a number of fields, he came to a very wide river and he was thrown across that too. He never found till he was in Oughteraugh. Then he was turned there again and he was put back through the fields again and he was just passing it again when his wife came to the door and said “is that you Martin”. Only for she came to the door would [he] be put back into the fort again. When he went into the house he was all bleeding and his clothes all torn and he was not able to get up for five days after.

A story from the Schools Collection, made in the 1930s by the National Folklore collection (and currently being digitised at duchas.ie).

On the farm of Mrs Creamer, Druminalass, stands an old fort which is of a round shape. It is about four feet higher than the land around it. It is enclosed by a thick clay ditch in which stout trees are growing. I was told by John Mc Weeny, aged 80, that an old man named Hugh Loughlin of Lurgandill went to the fort one time to cut fire-wood. He climbed up one of the trees to cut some of the branches with a hatchet. When he had a few branches cut his hatchet dropped to the ground. He looked down wondering how he would get it. To his surprise he heard a voice say “Here is your hatchet”. Then the hatchet was handed up to him. He looked but could see no person. This man got so frightened that he never again went to the fort to cut wood.

A tale from the Schools Collection made by the National Folklore Collection in the 1930s. The documents are currently being digitised at duchas.ie.

In the townland next to us which is called Gortnatresk, two men were making a mearing fence between their two farms. The fence had to be up a steep hill. The men worked very hard and were glad to see their work completed one day by quitting time, but next morning to their great surprise their fence had been levelled down just about 100 yards from the top of the hill in length. They started to work again and made up their fence and on the following morning the same thing happened. The third time they set out to work again and finished their mearing, and they were astonished to see their work useless and going to the place they looked all round them and just remarked a little ditch in the spot just in a circle with bushes all round. Inside the grass was very green. The men said to each other, there must be something in this spot. We will just make the fence round it and leave this in one man’s farm. This they did and there it remains for anyone to see it. It is believed to be a fairy palace and people of the District say that when passing the road late at night which is about a quarter of a mile from the road they often hear great music and see the fairies dressed in white dancing and enjoying themselves.

A tale in the Schools Collection, made by the National Folklore Collection of Ireland in the 1930s (and currently being digitised at duchas.ie).

There is a fairy forth in the town-land of Derryhallow. It is about a mile from the town of Drumshanbo and a half mile from the school. The name of the forth is Cruckawn. It is situated a long the side of the road leading to Slieve An Iarainn mountain. The forth is on a high mound over grown by white thorn bushes and it is surrounded by a low grassy ditch. Many stories are told in connection with this forth but I only heard a few of them.

There was once a man who was fencing and he cut a bush in the forth and put it in a gap. On his way home he felt his eye getting very sore. When he arrived home his eye was still worse. Doctors were attending him for some time but they could not give him any cure. Finally he went to the priest the priest looked in his eye but he could not see anything in it. Thenhe asked him did he do any work that would harm his eye. The man said he cut a bush in the forth and put it in a gap. The priest told him to go at once to the forth and put the bush where he got it. The man did so and on his way home he took the patch off his eye and it was as good as it had ever beed before. Another story is told about this forth.

Once a man was taking a bag of turf from beside the forth. When he was ready to go home with the turf a voice cried out to him “Leave down them turf. The man looked a round him but he could not see anyone. Then he proceeded on his way, but to his surprise the bag of turf was taken off his back. He told the story when he went home. Next morning his brother went to the forth for the turf but to his surprise he found the bag emptied on the top of a ditch.

There is a story told about Mr Booth the owner of the land surrounding the forth. One evening he went for his eight cows to bring them home to be milked but he only could get seven cows. He searched the land untill night fall but could not find her and then he went home. Next morning he came down the land to look for the cow again. He was attracted by great singing in the forth and he went in to it, and there stood the cow chewing her cud. He brought her home to milk her. The wife began to milk her but she had not a drop.

From the Schools Collection, made by the National Folklore Collection in the 1930s and currently being digitised at duchas.ie.

Here’s another story about the same place:

On the farm of Thomas Boothe Derryhallow a fort stood. This man was one harvest day preparing hay for tramping very close to a fort. When ready to make into rooks there came a blast of wind and lifted the hay up into the air and carried it away to another fort.
When out spoke Boothe into the fort, “Come my fairy Queen” and bring back my hay. After a couple of hours manouvering in the air the hay was lift back in its original position.

I think there’s at least one more pair of souterrain+fort in Meenymore other than this one, so the folklore could refer to any of them. But I have added this one as it remains unplanted amongst the coniferous wood and might be more accessible.

There is an old fairy fort in the townland of Slievenard. There are lights seen at it often. One night people were coming home from a bottle drink in Pat McPartlins and they saw three little fairies outside of it dancing and singing for all they were worth. They were dressed in different colours. The people went down to see would they catch them but when they went to the place they were gone.
Another day two men went to cut bushes in it for fire wood but when they were cutting the bushes they heard several little voices saying leave them alone or ye will die and they left them alone and no one went near them since.

From an entry in the 1930s Schools Collection, which was made by the National Folklore Collection in the 1930s.

I might be wrong but it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think these stones could be the Fairy Chairs. Standing stones aren’t unreasonable places to want to sit.

There is a place in the townland of Ballymagaraghy, in the parish of Culdaff, known as the Fairy Chairs. A man from Ballymagaraghy was watching cattle grazing around this place. All of a sudden a flint stone was fired at one of the cows. She got very sick and the owner had to send for a vet, and he said she was shot by one of the fairies. He gave her gunpowder with an egg mixed through it and she was well in a few days.

As told in the Schools Collection in the 1930s for the National Folklore Collection.

This ringfort seems to be in the right place for our fairies’ fort. It’s 25m across and has a massive bank and ditch on the north side nearest the road.

There is an old fairy fort in Ballybrack. There are no fairies there now. Long ago the fairies were seen every night and every morning. They had their fort in a rock. The rock is in a field beside the Lower Road. The people beside the rock saw the fairies every night and every morning. The people would never touch them when they would see them. They would go away from them. The fairies were all dressed in red. They never saw the fairies in the daytime. They only saw them in the morning and at night.

A story by Shemus Kelly, told in the Schools Collection in the 1930s for the National Folklore Collection.

In the townland of Cloonkee there is a fort. There are some stories about it. One time there was a man living near the fort and he used to grow crops around it. He had a piece of oats growing up to it. It was almost ripe and he was looking at it. The end nearest the fort was all trampled and that night he lay at the gap to see what horses were trampling it. At bed time a number of horses went out the gap and men riding on them and on the last horse there was a girl and he pulled her off and brought her into the house with him. She was not able to speak. He went to the same place to listen for the horsemen. They rode in the gap and he heard one of them say he has the girl now and he won’t have much pleasure but if he pulled the pin out of her hair she would speak. He came home and took out the pin. She was able to speak and told him that the fairies took her the night she got married and that her husband was dead. She lived there for three months and one November day a man was going to the fair of Newtown. He went into the house for a drink and he sat down. He saw the girl racking her hair and he said but for his daughter was dead that she was her. She came down to him and said that she was his daughter and that it was the fairies that took her. He told her that her husband was dead. He also told her to wait with the man and to get married and that he would give her a fortune.

A story by Seamus Ó Mullagáin, told in the Schools Collection in the 1930s for the National Folklore Collection.

I suppose this must be the right site for this sad story (so many nearby forts to choose between, but this has a souterrain). It was recounted by the boy’s father, Pat James.

The Fairy Fort.

At a place near Ballina called Curroy, there is a very fine fort. It has been and is still owned by a very old family called James.
One day the eldest of the James’ was picking nuts in the fort. Without knowing he suddenly found himself at the mouth of a large cave. He entered, and came to a kind of stone door. This he opened and entered into a beautiful furnished room. There were tables, chairs and other articles of furniture in it. The boy soon had all the furniture in his own house, which was quite close, to the fort. Next morning the furniture was gone. Soon after, the same boy was thrown from his bicycle and died.

From the Schools Collection of the 1930s, part of the National Folklore Collection and now being digitised at duchas.ie.

There is a fairy fort in Morley’s field in Cornanoff. It is now left to the rabbits to make their burrows there. The way it was made was, they carried clay with baskets out of our lake. The fort is now ploughed out except the bottom of it. There is a well beside it.

Recorded by Sara Hall as part of the1930s Schools Collection of the National Folklore Collection, which is now being digitised at duchas.ie.

Here in the Forest still lives Shakspeare’s Puck, a veritable being, who causes the Forest colts to stray, carrying out word for word Shakspeare’s description, –

“I am that merry wanderer of the night,
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal.”
(Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act ii., Sc. 1.)

This tricksy fairy, so the Forest peasant to this hour firmly believes, inhabits the bogs, and draws people into them, making merry, and laughing at their misfortunes, fulfilling his own roundelay -

“Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down;
I am feared in field and town,
Goblin, lead them up and down.”
(Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act iv., Sc. 2.)

Only those who are eldest born are exempt from his spell. The proverb of “as ragged as a colt Pixey” is everywhere to be heard, and at which Drayton seems to hint in his Court of Faerie:-

“This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt,
Still walking like a ragged colt.”

From ‘The New Forest: its History and its Scenery‘ by John R. Wise (1863).

Midway between Kilkelly and the beautiful lakes of Orlar stands Tavran House, a pretty building surrounded by a planting of trees. Close to the building there is a little fort, commonly reported to be the resort of the fairies.
The story first got about that the fairies were there through one of the servants of the former owners of Tavran House who are long since dead.

The servant was one evening driving home the cows to be milked when he heard a child crying very close to him. He thought it might be one of the neighbours children who had strayed up the avenue, andhe went where the sound came from but not alone did he see an infant but also a pretty woman who appeared to be its mother. Both were strangers to him, and he was just turning away when he overheard a remark of the woman’s which gave him much surprise. She was trying to stop the child crying and to pacify it all the quicker she said “Stop crying now, and I’ll soon get you some milk as they are just driving home bracked cows and she will turn the can when it’s milked.

The servant then hurried home to see if all the woman said came true. Sure enough just when he finished milking the cow raised her foot and spilt the bucket of milk. When he finished milking the rest of the cows he brought in the milk and told his master what happened.

The master went next evening for the cows with the servant and he heard the same crying and he saw the woman and child. The cow did the same thing again when she was milked, and the master said to turn the cow on to the fort every evening instead of bringing her home. This was done and the cow was milked but not by any human hand.

Cows and fairies seem very linked. Bracked cows do seem to be a thing but I don’t know what it means.

A slightly muddled story from The Schools Collection of 1930s folklore, now being digitised at Duchas.ie

The man that owned the Streamstown fort ploughed it one year. After he ploughed it he got very sick and the people said that the cause of it was that he had no right to plough it. The Irish built the forts to protect themselves from the Danes.

From the 1930s Schools Collection, now being digitised at duchas.ie.

In my district there are many forts. In the townland of Streamstown there is a fort. In the townland of Ardroe also is another fort. From one fort you can see the other. It is said that the fairies have a run from one fort to the other under the ground. The forts are round in shape.
In the Ardroe fort there is a big stone in the middle of it. On that stone there were certain words printed long ago. That writing is gone off that stone now. The forts are surrounded by trees.

From the 1930s Schools Collection, now being digitised at duchas.ie.

There is a fairy fort in Tonleeaun, Moytura, where the Tuatha De Danaans and the Firbolgs had a fight. There are twenty tall stones standing in it, and it is said that each stone was a person before the fight, but the king of the Tuatha De Danaans changed them into stones, because they were lazy and would not fight.

There is also a large pot near the fort, which is so large that it takes twenty men to lift it. It is said that the Tuatha De Danaans used to boil four big bullocks in it at one time. The old people around this place say that the fairies come every night after twelve o’clock, light a fire under the big pot, and keep dancing and singing around it until the break of day.

It is a common belief that the fairies take away cattle from people who are not friendly towards them. Of course these people think their cattle have died, but instead they are taken off by the fairies and used by them as they are wanted.

From the Schools Collection of 1930s folklore, now being digitised at Duchas.ie. What can this giant pot refer to? One can’t help visualising something like the Gundestrup cauldron. But I wonder what it it means.

Ireland’s Historic Environment Viewer has this site as a rath. It can be seen as a raised circular area (about 22m diameter) surrounded by a bank of earth and stone, with a break at the SE where the entrance was.

I was reading the following story (part of the Dúchas.ie schools collection from the 1930s) and thought it might be connected with the site:

Once upon a time in years gone by a fairy played mysterious tricks on a farmer in the near by village. The farmer had three cows, and a pig with some little ones and near his house stood a fort. the farmer was on edge to cut the fort away so he started one day to do so and that night one of the cows took sick and died and so on until the pig and her five little ones died. But the farmer was a head strong man and would not give into the fairies, but his wife was in an awful state till an old beggar woman came around and she asked what was all the trouble so the farmer’s wife told the tale. And then the old woman told her to get her husband to put the trees or bushes back and their luck would change so he did one night and they prospered afterwards.

But I think it’s also mentioned by W B Yeats as he speaks about this area generally in his ‘Celtic Twilight‘ – there are souterrains here too, according to the map and his stories.

At the northern corner of Rosses is a little promontory of sand and rocks and grass: a mournful, haunted place. No wise peasant would fall asleep under its low cliff, for he who sleeps here may wake ‘silly,’ the ‘good people’ having carried off his soul. There is no more ready short-cut to the dim kingdom than this plovery headland, for, covered and smothered now from sight by mounds of sand, a long cave goes thither ‘full of gold and silver, and the most beautiful parlours and drawing rooms.‘

Once, before the sand covered it, a dog strayed in, and was heard yelping helplessly deep underground in a fort far inland. These forts or raths, made before modern history had begun, cover all Rosses and Columkille. The one where the dog yelped has, like most others, an underground beehive chamber in the midst. Once when I was poking about there, an unusually intelligent and ‘reading’ peasant who had come with me, and waited outside, knelt down by the opening, and whispered in a timid voice, ‘Are you all right, sir?’ I had been some little while underground, and he feared I had been carried off like the dog.

No wonder he was afraid, for the fort has long been circled by ill-boding rumours. It is on the ridge of a small hill, on whose northern slope lie a few stray cottages. One night a farmer’s young son came from one of them and saw the fort all flaming, and ran towards it, but the ‘glamour’ fell on him, and he sprang on to a fence, cross-legged, and commenced beating it with a stick, for he imagined the fence was a horse, and that all night long he went on the most wonderful ride through the country. In the morning he was still beating his fence, and they carried him home, where he remained a simpleton for three years before he came to himself again.

A little later a farmer tried to level the fort. His cows and horses died, and all manner of trouble overtook him, and finally he himself was led home, and left useless with ‘his head on his knees by the fire to the day of his death’.

A few hundred yards southwards of the northern angle of Rosses is another angle having also its cave, though this one is not covered with sand. About twenty years ago a brig was wrecked near by, and three or four fishermen were put to watch the deserted hulk through the darkness. At midnight they saw sitting on a stone at the cave’s mouth two red-capped fiddlers fiddling with all their might. The men fled. A great crowd of villagers rushed down to the cave to see the fiddlers, but the creatures had gone.

“In walking from Blandford to Damerham in September, 1852, I shaped my course by Horton, with a view to seeing Monmouth’s ash on Horton Heath. Having reached the roadside inn, I found that the ash was four miles distant, and not having time to proceed thither, I waited at the inn.

Whilst waiting I saw a small ruined tower at the distance of half-a-mile or so, and, on asking a man, found it was the ruin of Knowlton Church. He also told me that at a very distant period there was a very valuable bell in that tower, so much so that it excited the cupidity of some fellows, who planned to steal it, take it to the coast, and, having crossed the Channel, sell it in France. This, considering the loneliness of the church, could be no very difficult matter; but somehow, after they had got the bell out of the tower, they were discovered, pursued, and overtaken at the bridge of Sturminster Marshall, and, being unable to proceed further with it, they threw it into the Stour and made off.

The Knowlton people let down ropes and pulled it up nearly within reach of hand, when down it went, without there being any apparent reason for the ropes breaking. A second and a third attempt were attended with the same result till, weary and dispirited, they gave it up. The old man said that there was a verse to the effect that
‘All the devils in
Could never pull up Knowlton bell.’ ”

The writer says here that he considered this tale very pointless and incomplete but then found Hutchins’ version:

“There is a tradition current among some of the old people in the village that many years ago the bellringers (or a party) of this village went secretly and removed one of the bells from the old ruined church at Knowlton [...]. They were successful so far, but, as there came a fall of snow during the expedition, they were afraid of being discovered by their tracks, and to baffle pursuit in case of discovery they reversed the shoes of the horses on their return. Arriving at the old bridge of White Mill, which is distant from Sturminster Church about half-a-mile, they sent on two of their party in advance to the village to see that the course was clear. As they were so long gone the remaining party thought something was a miss and that they were discovered, and, suspecting that the people of Knowlton were on their track, they, to dispose of the bell and put it out of sight, threw it into the River Stour, in a deep hole (now called Bell Hole or White Mill Hole). Hence the following doggerel:-
‘Knowlton bell is a-stole
And thrown into White Mill Hole’.”

From the Proceedings of the Dorset Natural History Society vol. 27, 1906. The first story is told by Mr A Reeves, all being part of an article on Church Bells of Dorset by the Rev. Canon Raven.

My mother told me that about three miles from our house there is a place called Rathmore, and a crock of gold is supposed to be hidden in an old rath there. On several occasions some men from the district, including Mr Jones and two fo the Sweenys tried to get the gold but failed, because they were prevented by a bull. The last time they searched they had to leave again as the dead coach is supposed to have passed. Tradition says that a life is supposed to be lost before the gold can be taken.

From The Schools’ Collection, Volume 0829, Page 177.