The Enchanted Bay - read an extract

I wanted to get in touch about our new title The Enchanted Bay - a captivating anthology of Irish folk tales collected by revolutionary leader Ernie O'Malley and compiled by his son Cormac.

Many of the stories in this book were collected as Ernie travelled Ireland as an IRA organiser. They feature selkies, changelings, hungry grass and more.

The Woman Taken by the Fairies

There once was a woman living out in Louisburgh on the back of a hill in Aghany near Roonah. These were hard times after the Famine, and she was used to eating and living on shellfish. She was out as usual one afternoon and went down on the seashore where she was picking up some shellfish and edible seaweed or creathnach. The night came on, and she hadn't returned. She went missing. The second day came and went, and she didn’t return.

Now, there was a fairy fort near the site of the Aghany school. A neighbouring man, by the name of Gibbons, was helping in the search for the woman. He passed by the fort and shouted at the top of his voice for them to let out the lost woman, mentioning her by her name, that they had in there.

Not too long after that the woman was seen leaving the fort and coming on back by the shore to where she had left her basket of shellfish and seaweed on the ridge of the bank. She picked it up and took it on ’til she came on home. The house was crowded in, of course, as many people from the villages around had gathered to find out any news of the missing woman. The house was thronged.The woman went up to sit by the fireside. Me old grandmother, Kathy Lavelle, came in the door, but the house was so crowded, she couldn’t see the woman sitting by the hearth. The woman was relating all she had seen and heard about the people in the fairy fort.

Now, one of the fairy people had told her not to eat any food nor take any drink when she got home. Then, didn’t the woman shout at the top of her voice to me grandmother asking her to go down and bring her a noggin of buttermilk that she was after drawing in the churn. She went down and brought the noggin of buttermilk back and gave it to her. She drank it, and after that no one ever heard the woman open her mouth again about what happened in the fort or anything else for that matter.

The Foretelling of the Ship That Sank

John Máille of Islandmore went away from the island, and he landed a job as the second mate on a ship and was also the ship’s carpenter. He saved up his wages and had some money when he’d come home to his brother in Westport. Now that money wouldn’t last long as he spent it fast enough.

In late 1939 he wrote home about an incident in a saloon in Liverpool, where he was out drinking with the crew of the ship he was about to go out on that night. A man came in to the saloon, and no one knew him, and he asked for a drink from the sailors, but he was refused. They only laughed at him for they had their bellies full of beer, and so he went out. John Máille decided to go out the door after him.

'I’ll buy you a pint,’ says he, ‘or the price of it.’

‘You’re going to sea with them fellows?’ the man says to John.

‘I am,’ says John. ‘We’re going on the ship that’s going out of here to-night.’

‘Don’t go on that ship for she’ll get lost,’ the man says.

John went back in to the saloon and told the crew what had happened and that he wouldn’t be going out with them that evening, but they carried on anyway. The ship went out that night and was lost out at sea soon after she left Liverpool. All her crew were drownded. It wasn’t by mines

she was sunk! That pint of beer saved good-hearted John Máille for he didn’t value money more than his life. This world is only a shadow and if one has it good, then one shouldn’t add the length of a finger to one’s days.

Andrew Moore Goes to the Fairy Dance in Newport

The Moores had lived on Inishoo for a long time. They were very jolly, decent men and were known as great amusers with music. One day Andrew Moore rowed into Newport, which was the local market town, to do some business. When his business was done and it was duskish, he went down the quay to his small boat to come home. He was getting to the boat, and didn’t he meet a man he didn’t know on the quay.

‘Good night, Andrew,’ says he. ‘Good night, yerself,’ says Andrew.

‘Isn’t it early yet to be going home?’ said the young man.

‘It’ll be late enough for me,’ says Andrew, ‘when I’ll be beyond in Inishoo.’

‘Come with me,’ says the young man, ‘and I’ll bring you to a great dance tonight.’

Andrew thought having a little merriment wouldn’t be a bad idea at all and went along with him. Before they had gone about twenty yards, Andrew was landed in to a fine mansion where there was music and light, and the whole place filled with youngsters of the finest class of people going, both girls and boys. He took no notice but went along and engaged himself. There was a welcome from everyone in their turn for Andrew Moore.

It wasn’t long until one of them approached him. ‘Here, Andrew, tune up this fiddle to your taste.’ Andrew, who was a good fiddler, took the fiddle and drew the bow down, you understand if you knows how to sound a fiddle.

‘What’s it going to be, Andrew?’ says the fellow.

‘Oh, a double jig,’ says Andrew.

‘Then give us "Geese in the Bog".’ Andrew went on with the ‘Geese in the Bog’, and this fellow who gave him the fiddle and another man went out on the floor, and they did a fairly good dance for a double jig. After that dance was over, someone called Andrew to see if he could do anything like that. Andrew and another man went out on the floor, and there was more shouting for Andrew all over the house when he had his jig danced. When Andrew had his night in and enjoyed it well with girls and youngsters and all, the man from the quay took him back to the door.

‘Now, Andrew Moore, it’s time for you to be going home,’ says he.

When Andrew looked round, he saw no more of the mansion nor a one that was in it. He was there all alone on the quay. He went down in to his boat, pulled off his coat, took his two oars and pulled until he come to Inishgowla. When he come to Inishgowla, didn’t Walter O’Malley of Inishcoife see the boat coming in in the morning.

‘Good morning, Andrew,’ says he, ‘and ye must have had a great night of it in Newport to be coming home so now.’

‘Well, I had,’ says Andrew, and he up and tells the whole tale to his comrade Walter.