Irish Folk Tales (53 page)

“As you will not give me the knowledge of foretelling, I will not take the curing. I will live honestly.”

“I have no power to give you the knowledge,” said the father, “but since you will not take the curing, I will give it to your mother. The knowledge I can give to no one but your elder brother.”

Griffin gave the curing to the wife. The knowledge he could give to no one but the elder son, and to him only if present.

Maurice Griffin died and was buried before Dyeermud came from Cork.

Dyeermud was astonished when he came and didn’t find the father.

“You did badly not to stay,” said the younger brother.

“Didn’t I leave you?”

“You did, but he could leave the knowledge only to you.”

“Why didn’t he give you the curing?”

“He offered it to me, but I thought it too much trouble. I would use it if I had it. I let it go to our mother. She is old; let her have it. As he did not give me the knowledge I didn’t want the curing. Maybe in after years when I have children, it’s on them the diseases I cured would come.”

It was rumored that the curing was with the mother, and the people were coming to her.

Once her godson got a fairy stroke in the leg, and she was vexed because his parents did not bring him quickly, for next day she would not be able to cure him at all. At last they came, and she was angry that they were so slow.

“You might have made bacon of him if you waited till morning,” cried she. She cured him, and he was a very strong boy after that.

The parish priest had a sick horse left out to die. The clerk was very sorry, the horse was such a fine beast. “Wouldn’t it be better to go to Mrs. Griffin?” asked he.

“Oh, how could she cure the horse?” asked the priest.

“I’ll go to her,” said the clerk.

“If you go to her,” said the priest, “I give you no leave.”

The clerk went, told Mrs. Griffin that he had come in spite of the priest, and to cure the horse if she could.

“It was the priest himself that injured the horse,” said Mrs. Griffin. “He gave him water while hot from driving, and because the priest is fond of the horse he patted him and muttered something without saying God bless you. Go now, spit three times into the horse’s ears, and say God bless you.”

The clerk went and did this. The horse rose up as well and sound as ever, and the clerk brought him to the stable. The priest was astonished, and said, “They have a gift in the family. I’ll not trouble them any turn again.”

Mrs. Griffin was not able to give her gift to anyone. The bone was buried with her.

B
IDDY EARLY

It was my son was thatching Heniff’s house when he got the touch, and he came back with a pain in his back and in his shoulders, and took to the bed.

And a few nights after that I was asleep, and the little girl came and woke me and said, “There’s none of us can sleep. with all the cars and carriages rattling round the house.” But though I woke and heard her say that, I fell into a sound sleep again and never woke till morning. And one night there came two taps at the window, one after another, and we all heard it and no one there.

And at last I sent the eldest boy to Biddy Early and he found her in the house. She was then married to her fourth man. And she said he came a day too soon and would do nothing for him. And he had to walk away in the rain. And the next day he went back and she said, “Three days later and you’d have been too late.” And she gave him two bottles, the one he was to bring to a boundary water and to fill it up, and that was to be rubbed to the back, and the other was to drink. And the minute he got them he began to get well, and he left the bed and he could walk, but he was always delicate. When we rubbed his back we saw a black mark, like the bite of a dog, and as to his face, it was as white as a sheet.

I have the bottle here yet, though it’s thirty years ago I got it. She bid the boy to bring whatever was left of it to a river, and to pour it away with the running water. But when he got well I did nothing with it, and said nothing about it—and here it is now for you to see.

I never let on to Father Folan that I went to her, but one time the Bishop came, MacInerny. I knew he was a rough man, and I went to him and made my confession, and I said, “Do what you like with me, but I’d walk the world for my son when he was sick.” And all he said was, “It would have been no wonder if the two feet had been cut off from the messenger.” And he said no more and put nothing on me.

There was a boy I saw went to Biddy Early, and she gave him a bottle and told him to mind he did not lose it in the crossing of some road. And when he came to the place it was broke.

Often I heard of Biddy Early, and I knew of a little girl was sick and the brother went to Biddy Early to ask would she get well. And she said, “They have a place ready for her, room for her they have.” So he knew she would die, and so she did.

The priests can do things too, the same way as she could, for there was one Mr. Lyne was dying, a Protestant, and the priest went in and baptized him a Catholic before he died, and he said to the people after, “He’s all right now, in another world.” And it was more than the baptizing made him sure of that.

Mrs. Brennan, in the house beyond, went one time to Biddy Early, where the old man was losing his health. And all she told him was to bid him give over drinking so much whiskey. So after she said that, he used only to be drinking gin.

There was a boy went to Biddy Early for his father, and she said, “It’s not any of my business that’s on him, but it’s good for yourself that you came to me. Weren’t you sowing potatoes in such a field one day and didn’t you find a bottle of whiskey, and bring it away and drink what was in it?”

And that was true and it must have been a bottle
they
brought out of some cellar and dropped there, for they can bring everything away, and put in its place what will look like it.

There was a boy near Feakle got the touch in three places, and he got a great desire to go out night-walking, and he got sick. And they asked Biddy Early and she said, “Watch the hens when they come in to roost at night, and catch a hold of the last one that comes.” So the mother caught it, and then she thought she’d like to see what would Biddy Early do with it. So she brought it up to her house and laid it on the floor, and it began to rustle its wings, and it lay over and died.

It was from her brother Biddy Early got the cure. He was sick a long time, and there was a whitethorn tree out in the field, and he’d go and lie under it for shade from the sun. And after he died, every day for a year she’d go to the whitethorn tree, and it is there she’d cry her fill. And then he brought her under and gave her the cure.

It was after that she was in service beyond Kinvara. She did her first cure on a boy, after the doctors giving him up.

T
HE BLACK ART

It was supposed there was people and they had what they called the black art.

And I don’t know how the black art run, but it was something in the line of witchery, that they could take the milk of cows there. It was supposed that they used to go out before day in the morning with something
white
in the shape of a
rope
and trail it along the grass.

And that when the cows would go in to be milked, they’d give no milk atall.

It was a common topic in days gone by. And whether it was genuine or not, you wouldn’t
know
, because cows could loss their milk for the want of grass. They want water and many a thing, do ye see. That’s what they used to say was the cause of it. Aye, that it was the black art.

And these people with the black art, if they had cows, their cows would have the milk that ever was lost.

It was supposed that it was the charm, that the dragging of the rope was only—ah, it was just an accompaniment, but that they had the charm of words that took the milk.

Well, there was a man told me about that place where Mrs. Cutler lives.

In days gone by, I think, there was ten cows kept on it.

And there was another man lived beside them,

   and he had only a small farm,

      three cows in place.

It’s all in Cutlers’ now; Cutlers’ ones, they got that farm after he left.

But this man told me that while he was in the country that he used to supply more milk to the creamery off his three cows than the McMullens (they were McMullens that lived where Mrs. Cutler’s living), that he had more milk than they had off
ten
cows.

So it was supposed that he had this black art.

That was the way while he was in the country.

Well, this man told me that anyway.

It was a known fact that the McMullens’ milk went down altogether from he came to the country and that his
increased
.

There used to be a story about persons that used to change into the shapes of animals for to take the milk from cows.

There was a story told about the same person and the supply of milk that the cows was giving was getting
very
small.