The banshee whose cries are a harbinger of death in the family of the person who bears them, is a member of the ‘good people’, (fairies) and is supposed to be some person of the family, who, having met with a sudden death, was carried off by the fairies, whereby she is invested with the supernatural power of foreseeing the afflictions of her friends, which she has sometimes tenderness enough to lament. When a child is a long time sickly, and is not thriving, it is in general considered by its parents to be supposititious [sic], that the real child had been taken away, and this substituted by the good people. There are several instances of small children having been done away with privately. One of a most glaring description, and revolting to humanity, cam within my own knowledge, about twelve years ago, in the county of Limerick and parish of Fledamore:  boy, seven years old, who was looked upon by his parents as supposititious, was placed naked between three large fires in a field, the parents and several of the neighbours assisting. The mother addressed him to this effect: ‘You are not my child; go off to the good people whence you came, and restore my real child to me, or you shall be burned to death.’ The poor child being a cripple, and unable to move, cried out: ‘Oh! mother, dear, I am your child! Oh! mother, dear, I am your loving child! Save me, save me!’ This affecting appeal in no way operated on these inhuman wretches, who looked on unmoved till dripping flowed from him. Perceiving that be would not run away as they expected, they at length removed him: but he died in a few hours after. I happened to be in the parish chapel the following Sunday, when the Rev. Mr. Ryan denounced them in severe terms from the altar, and ordered them to come bareheaded and barefoot, covered with white sheets, for three Sundays, to chapel; yet the civil authorities took no cognizance of it; there was not even a coroner’s inquest, although there were five magistrates within a mile of the place, and the fact was as notorious in the neighbourhood as the noon-day.’ Anon, ‘Horrible Results of Superstition’ 1826

Anastatia Carthy[…] remembered the eldest of the prisoners, Johanna Galvin, coming to her house in January last; it was towards evening, and having told witness that she was from the Iron Mills in Tipperary and a daughter of Mrs Jackson (a celebrated fairy-woman and charm-maker of the last age), she asked for lodgings for the night. Having consented that she should remain, she then told her that her daughters, the two other prisoners, were at a short distance, and witness having desired that they also should lodge with her for that night, the elder prisoner desired her to send for them, as she was wholly unable to walk… The eldest woman took a tea-cup, and having poured in some water, placed therein an herb which she took from her pocket. The cup was laid on a shelf, and in a short time, when the prisoner went again to the cup, she appeared to be much concerned, and called the witness to inspect the contents of the cup – the witness observed that the water appeared as if tinged with blood. Galvin then communed with the two younger women when some mysterious signs and words passed between them. The prisoner next asked witness if any thing ailed her daughter who was present. The witness hesitated to tell her, but she observed it was useless to conceal the matter; and that she could do her a service if made acquainted with the fact. Witness then acknowledged that her daughter was afflicted by a swelling of the neck and a throat when she caught a cold… The old crone then at once affected to see the daughter’s berrin in the cup and its bloody tinge – but she intimated that, if proper means were used, the calamity might be averted. She went on conjuring them to effect this desirable object, till the hen fell off the roost with the power of her charm… The next proceeding was to compose the philtre which was to affect the restoration of her daughter from those ill favoured spirits which had nearly possessed her. A skillet was put upon the fire – water from the confluence of three streams  was procured, poured into the skillet, placed over the fire, and quan. Suf. Of herbs having been added to the liquid, the ‘hell broth’ was in process of decoction, stirred up by the old beldame. Suddenly the hag stopped, and declared that she could not proceed in the composition unless she had yellow money with a cross on it (a gold guinea) to aid her in the process. The witness assured her that she had none. ‘Could she not procure it?’ ‘No.’ ‘What a pity – she could have the charm completed in a very short time indeed with such help – but in the absence of gold she would be enabled to do the cure with the aid of some white mother (silver); and with the assi-tance [sic] of more prayers.’ The witness then persuaded the good man to give her a shilling which he happened to have in his pockets. This was put into the mass of herbs, and the compound stirred ; but it would not do without more l’argent – 1s. 6d. was then pulled from the stocking purse, or trash-bag, and this was placed in a the pot to boil. Still the manes of the spirits were not to be appeased by so slight an offering, more money was still wanted – none was in the house – and in the extremity the poor duped woman bethought herself of a neighbour who had the price of a new cloak, which was to be put in requisition to help the process of the prisoner’s incantations – 10s. were obtained, and the philtre was on the point of completon [sic], when the old witch suddenly fell upon the floor, filled with inspiration, and, in her trance, called out ‘the boy or the horse, the boy or the horse’ – and this she explained when recovered, that it had been suddenly revealed to her that either the only son of the silly woman on whom she was practising or her horse were to be carried off by the fairies. There was yet a remedy for this evil. In St Patrick’s Church-yard, near this city, there grew an herb, the only one in LimerickCounty, which could prevail, and this pulled with the paddle of a goose’s foot, and before sunrise, would prevent the loss of either man or beast! Well, of course, the herb must be pulled, and away the set, all three, the horse having been yoked for the purpose of bearing them to the Church-yard, and accompanied by the boy or girl who were to be rescued from an early grave. Previous to their setting out, however, lest the night air should affect them, they begged the loan of all the disposable wearing apparel they could procure from the poor woman, giving of course a solemn promise to return in a hurry, and do service for the civilities they had received. When they came near the Churchyard, the prisoners left the car, with strict directions after the boy and girl should not mar the charm by prying after them. It is unnecessary to say they did not return.’ Bibliography: Anon, ‘Unparalleled Imposture!’, 1834), 1

At the Limerick petty sessions on Wednesday last, a woman named Ellen English was charged by two girls with swindling them, on pretence that she was endowed with the gift of fairyism. She promised in a certain time to give the girls 2.5 stone of gold on the condition of paying her 1s 4d a week. The complainants stated further that they frequently sent her presents of hens, geese, etc. Mrs English assured the bench that if she was allowed a month longer, she would perform her contract. Daly, one of the police, who arrested this subject of Queen Mab, stated that he found in her box much valuable wearing apparel, especially shoes, of which she had seven or eight pair. Informations were ordered against her, on hearing which she said no human being had power over her, as she was a fairy, and told the bench, in plain terms, that it was surer for them not to meddle with her. This caution, however, was disregarded.’ Anon, ‘A Fairy’, 1835

About a fortnight ago a low-sized wretched old woman was observed lurking about the the rere [sic] of the residence of a highly respectable solicitor, in the neighbourhood of this town. One of the domestics, the cook, desired her to go around to the master at the hall-door if she wanted charity. ‘Charity!’ retorted the old crone, with an indignant toss of the head: ‘I want no charity. Instead of looking for any thing of that nature, it is in my power to make any one I choose as wealthy as a Queen. Don’t you know me?’ ‘In troth, I don’t’, said the astonished cook; ‘how would I know you’. ‘Well,’ continued the old woman ‘I don’t wonder at that, for I have been so long among the fairies; and I am so strangely altered, that, bad scran to me if I knew myself this morning when I was looking at my face in St Winifred’s Well at Wales. ‘In Wales!’ Ejaculated the cook. ‘Aye, in Wales!’ retorted the old woman. ‘Is there anything extraordinary in it? Didn’t I dine with the Queen of Spain last Friday: but not matter about that; I am inclined to do you some trifling service. Do you see this spot on which I am now standing?’ Here the cook closed up to the old crone with an air of intense interest, saying, ‘I do’. ‘Well’, continued the frequenter of St. Winifred’s Well ‘there is a ‘crock of gold’ buried there; and I am sent by the fairies to make you a present of it. Your brother is in the ‘good people’ – (the cook’s brother died in his infancy) – and so are a great number of your friends and relations.’ The cook here commenced rummaging her deep pockets, and made motions as if she was about bestowing some pecuniary reward on her communicative companion. ‘Don’t attempt it’, said the old woman, ‘for it wasn’t for the likes of that I came here at all’. ‘Come into the kitchen at any rate’, said the cook, using one of her most interesting smiles. ‘I can’t go into the house al all, at all, this turn,’ said the old woman. ‘I’m to take tay with the Queen of Amerikay to-morrow morning; so you see I have a long journey before me: at all events, I will be with you next Sunday – (the 26^th ultimo) – so trust nobody with the secret, for the fairies would be amazing angry with you if you told anybody about your good fortune.’ The fairy-woman departed; and the cook rejoiced in her heart at the hopes of becoming mistress of the promised treasure. The week passed slowly by, and she not unfrequently numbered the long lingering hours. So pregnant was she with the important secret, she would have actually died if she hand not disburthened her mind. The nurse was the confidante chosen by her, and to her she  communicated her good fortune, and expatiated freely and warmly on the many ways in which she would distribute the crock of precious meal. The most gorgeous dresses were to be purchased – castles were to be built – and ‘a husband’ was not forgotten; for what would a woman with a crock of gold be without a husband? Twelve o’clock on Sunday the 26^th January arrived; it was the day and hour of assignation, and the fairy-woman was punctual to her promise. The cook and nurse ushered her into the kitchen, placed her before a large blazing fire, and regailed her with the best dainties the larder could afford. O, what a flattering opportunity to play upon frail woman’s weak credulity! She of the power unhallowed, assumed absolute dominion over the minds of  over the minds of her dupes. So profuse and brilliant were her promises, the realization of one-half of them would have cast in the shade the glories of Aladden’s extraordinary lamp, and the wonders of his genii-commanding ring. Had the weird [sic] woman’s words been pearls of great value, like those of the fairy of old, they could not have been treasured up with deeper devotion or more highly appreciated by her infatuated admirers. As the sunniest day will have an end, and the brightest illusions of the mind will in time fade away, so the fairy-woman descended from the cloudy heights of promissory greatness to plan matter-of-fact business. It was mutually agreed upon that at the hour of twelve o’clock on the night of the second of February, one thousand eight hundred and forty, the bosom of the earth. Matters being thus arranged, the fair woman departed or rather disappeared, for the cook and nurse aver that they watched her exit, but that from the moment she crossed the threshold of the door they couldn’t get a sight of her no more than if the ground had opened and swallowed her. There are one or two matters connected with this  singular and ‘ow’r true tale’ which we had nearly neglected to notice; this first is, that the fairy-woman was exceedingly inquisitive as to what mass the master (Mr Dillon) was in the habit of attending on Sundays; the next is, that she insinuated to the cook and the nurse that their courage would be put to an extremely trying test, as hidden treasures were generally guarded by fiery dragons, who would not give up their charge without a desperate struggle. ‘But’, she added, ‘No harm will come on you, as I will have on my red cap and scarlet vestments, and will have nine invisible men to assist me!! When once one of ye touch the ‘crock of gold’ the enchantment will be broken, and ye will have nothing to do but to take it in and count it!’ On the night after the interview neither the cook nor the nurse slept a wink. Innumerable plans for future life were suggested and unceremoniously rejected; and to crown the matter, they differed between themselves as to who would first lay hands upon the charmed crock; for superstition had whispered, that it had been remarked form time immemorial that the first person that disturbed a fairy ‘rath’, or laid a plundering hand upon fairy treasure, that he or she was sure to be visited with a sudden and an unprovided death before the lapse of twelve months. The nurse maintained it was the cook’s right to touch it first, as it was to her the golden present was made; and the cook argued that to raise it up was the least the nurse could do for halving the treasure with her. From this difference there arose a disagreement; and the next morning they appealed to the butler, who laughed at their incredulity and very judiciously informed his master of the whole transaction. Mr Dillon seemed to look on the matter in a different light from his servants, and he gave positive orders to have the beldame, the next time she came to the house, detained until he would have an interview with her. ‘Detain her!’ ejaculated the cook with a look of horror. ‘Sure a fairy can’t be detained. Didn’t she say the other night that she had a long journey before her, but that she didn’t matter it, as she could ride through the air on a broomstick!’ While the cook and the nurse were loud and vehement in the objurgations, the following singular scene took place at Island Bawn Cottage, which lies about a mile and a half east of Mr Dillon’s residence. A poor wretched looking old creature came to the cottage door and claimed charity, and its amiable mistress invited her in, and supplied her wants with no niggard hand. After some time the old beggarwoman said that she had been many seasons amongst the ‘good people’, and although forced to live upon the charity of Christians, still she was gifted with a knowledge not belonging to a mere mortal. She could point out the spot where fairy treasures were deposited, and could tell people what was to happen to them. The servant-girl laughingly challenged her for a sample of her fairy power, upon which the old woman turned to the mistress and said, ‘a great accident is to be befal [sic] you soon; it is not in my power to remove it from your door; and all I can do is to give you the choice of having it happen by day or by night.’ ‘If anything bad is to happen to me’, said the mistress ‘in God’s name, let it happen with daylight.’ ‘And by daylight it shall happen’, returned the old beggarwoman, arising from the chimney corner and departing. When Mrs S. bethought of herself she laughed at the prediction of the old woman, and considered her to be at best but a vagrant impostor. On the afternoon the day became very wild and windy, and the cottage door had to be shut against the pelting of the pitiless storm. About four o’clock there was a knock at the door, and upon its being opened two men entered, while a third stood outside. Mrs S. asked them what wanted. One of them approached her, presented a pistol at her head, and demanded ‘fire-arms’; his companion assumed a similar threatening attitude towards the servant girl. Mrs S nothing daunted, flung her keys to the ground, and in a tone of bitter irony desired them to rob the house, and then to shoot herself and the girl, two defenceless women!! The man who held the pistol to her head said he did not come with any evil intention towards her, that he wanted nothing but ‘fire arms’. He then ordered ‘Number Five’ to do his duty. The man who had previously stood outside the door now entered, went into the bedroom and took a fowling piece (the only fire-arms in the house) off the rack. The gun being obtained, the three fellows deliberately departed, without offering any farther molestation. They had not gone six yards when Mrs S. followed them to the door and exclaimed ‘Well, boys! When will ye pay me another visit? Will the fairy-woman come any more?’ In answer to this, the leader said that the fairy woman would come to her no more – that neither he nor any of his party would ever again disturb her, and that as for the gun it would be returned in a few days. The foregoing took place on Monday 27^th January last, and on the evening of the next day the fairy-woman presented herself at the rere of the solicitor’s residence. The cook and the nurse thought to warn her of impending danger, but the butler was before hand with them in informing his master of the arrival of the expected visitant. Mr. D. then sent for the police, and her consigned to Nenagh Bridewell for vagrancy. On last Friday she was identified as being the prophetic precursor of the Rockite visitors of Island Bawn Cottage. There can be no doubt of this beggarwoman being the vigilant emissary of Captain Rock in the two Ormonds, and that she has in many cases been successful in setting fire-arms for the sue of the gallant captain’s sharp-shooters, many cases of which we have recorded in our journal from time to time. It is our opinion that were it not for Mr Dillon’s timely interference, the searching for the ‘crock of gold’ would terminate in the plunder of that gentleman’s fire-arms, and perhaps other valuable property. Anon, ‘The Rockite Emissary from Fairy Land’, 1840

A young woman, who stated that she was familiar with the fairies came to the family of a young man named Skelly, who had left the country for Sydney about two years ago, who had since died in England; she told them that she had seen him among the fairies, and that if they followed her advice he would be restored to them. The poor people believed her, and started off to a hill called Knockshegoura, but missed him there. The impostor then took them to a rath near Durrow, but pretended that she was informed by the queen of the fairies that she should go the following night, without a single article of her own dress, and unaccompanied by any person, save the sister of the deceased. The Skelly’s provided her with whatever clothes she required, and she set out for a rath at Knockshegoura, near Borris; but Skelly’s sister being unable to keep up with her, the pretended ‘wise woman’ was soon out of sight, and has not since been heard of.’ The ‘young woman’ in question seems not to have been prosecuted. Anon, ‘Superstition’, 1842, 2

The facts of the case are simply these: James Mahony who lives on the demesne of Heywood, the property of Charles Riall, Esq. had a son of the age of six or seven, a delicate child. The boy had been confined to bed for two years with an affection of the spine, and being a very intellectual child, and accustomed to make the most shrewd remarks about every thing he saw and heard passing around him, his parents and the neighbours were led to the conclusion that he was not the son of his father, but that he was a fairy! Under this impression, a consultation took place at the house of Mahoney, and the result was, that the intruder from the ‘Good People’ should be frightened away; and, accordingly, on Tuesday night last, the poor dying child was threatened with a red hot shovel and a ducking under a pump, if he did not disclose where the real John Mahoney was; the feeble child, after being held near the hot shovel, and after having been taken a part of the way to the pump, told them he was a fairy, and that he would send back John Mahoney the next evening, if they gave him that night’s lodgings. This occurred on Tuesday night last, and the child was dead the next morning […] Mr Nash. Such a case of ignorance, cruelty, and superstition, should be exposed before the world. Dr John Smith deposed that the child was in a debilitated state for some time before its death; that it laboured under a curvature of the spine, and the debility produced by the affection caused death. The jury after deliberating for about 20 minutes, returned a verdict of ‘Died by the visitation of God’’. Anon, ‘Extraordinary Case of Gross Superstition’,1840

A woman named Margaret Byrne was indicted for having, on the 16^th of May last, at Sandycove, stolen a pair of trowsers and a pair of boots, the property of John Short. Mrs Short stated that about three o’clock on the 16^th of May the prisoner came into her house, and after some ordinary conversation asked for a drink of water, which she gave her. She said that she had a load of cheese coming to her, and that she would give her (witness) some of it, as she appeared to be in a delicate state of health. She ascribed her ill health to the fact that she was in the habit of getting into bed at the side instead of the foot, which so displeased the fairies or ‘the good people’, that they visited the house every night and afflicted her with delicacy of constitution. This practice of offending the fairies she recommended her to discontinue. She next spoke of the cholera, and said that she had an herb which was a sure preventive against it. She her (witness) a sprig of it, and desired her to deposit it in a box, as then she might rest assured that the disease would not enter the house. Witness took the sprig, and put it in the box as directed. The prisoner then asked her for a shilling, and on witness telling her that she had no money she asked for a ‘shilling’s worth,’ and described herself as ‘the Queen of the Fairies’. [‘Melancholy Credulity’ articles add here ‘The prisoner was a tall, gaunt, bony, gi-mouthed, red-faced, high cheekboned, Meg Merrilies-like woman, and rather tough in skin and age.] Witness offered her a pair of boots, which she refused to take, alleging that they were not worth a shilling, but asked for the trowsers. Witness said that she could not give them, but upon being told by the prisoner that she would not love by giving them, because next morning she would find them restored to the very spot in the which she had placed the enchanted sprig, she gave them accordingly. Next morning she went to the box, and lo! – there was the sprig, but there not the trowsers; and the boots which the prisoner had rejected as valueless were also gone. Not only did the prisoner describe herself as ‘the Queen of the Fairies’ – and indeed she must have struck the witness as an exceedingly ugly sovereign, for in stature she was gaunt and awkward; her face seemed to have been painted by potations pottle deep, and she more resembled a Billingsgate Boadicea than the queen of a fairy band – but she also announced that she was on the ‘road to Paradise’ where she would arrive (whether by railway or omnibus she did not say) in fourteen days; and as eating was indispensable she requested the loan of a loaf, which would be of course returned, when, like Apollo, she was turned out of Heaven. When the prisoner left the house she proceeded, not to ‘a better world’, but to a pawnbroker’s, in whose establishment she pawned the trowsers and boots, the duplicates of which were found in her possession when arrested by the police. The witness protested that she was not so agitated by the revelation that ‘the Queen of the Fairies’ had condescended to enter her humble dwelling, that soft slumber fled her pillow, and that she was in a wretched state of mind, believing everything which the prisoner had told her. Mr J. A. Curran appeared as counsel for the prosecution. The jury found the prisoner guilty, and Mr Justice Crampton sentenced her to be imprisoned for six months and kept to hard labour. Anon, ‘The Queen of the Fairies’, (1849), 4

About the middle of May, 1847, a farmer named James Lyons, in the parish of Clonbrorry, died and was buried with all the respect and veneration due to his memory by his afflicted wife and friends. In the latter end of the same month, or at the beginning of June in the same year, a wretch named Bryan Maconochy, bent with age, and leaning on a staff presented himself to the poor family, and gravely told them that he was their father, James Lyon, who was taken away by the fairies, and that after next New Year’s Day he would resume his pristine form and shuffle off the fairy coil, when the mark or assumed form enveloping his real body would be removed by the Elfin King, whose power over him would cease on that day. This Maconochy enjoined the most strict secrecy on the family, none of whom, with the exception of two, ever believed his incoherent romantic story. He was, however, permitted to live in the family awaiting the eventful New Year’s Day. Nearly a year afterwards another young fellow, a friend and accomplice of Maconochy arrived, and said that he was nephew of the deceased James Lyon, who was taken away by the fairies seven or eight years ago, and that his period of servitude was expired. The family, alarmed at the wonderful stories told, gave them some money, and were just preparing to sell a load of oats to pay off these two strange visitors, who promised, by getting a certain sum, to never trouble them again. You may imagine the terror of the family, and the strict observance of secrecy imposed upon them, when it was only a few weeks ago that the whole diabolical conspiracy was accidentally revealed to the respected curate of the parish, the Rev. Francis Kiernan, who immediately gave information to the authorities and got those infamous impostors committed to prison.’ Anon, ‘Extraordinary Case: A Fairy Turned Swindler!’, 1849

An event has lately occurred at Birr which has created great consternation. Some short time since, a boy, fifteen years old, took a pain in his hip, which extended thence to his knee and ancle [sic]. Some superstitious old crone told his mother that the child was ‘fairy stricken’ and urged upon her to have recourse to a ‘charm setter’, but was told by him that they must submit to the will of Providence. The woman went away heavy at heart, but had scarcely reached her habitation when she lost her senses: and, entering her house, she went to the fire, over which a large pot of boiling water was suspended, and, succeeding in getting her feet into the boiling water, staid there as if it had been cold water. When her husband entered, he was horror-stricken; he made an attempt to remove her from such a position, but she had grasped the crook from which the pot was suspended so tightly, that all his efforts were fruitless. Her sister having heard of the matter, came from Donegal, and attended the wretched woman until Friday, when the madwoman bit her in many parts of the body, and the woman, who came from Donegal in her perfect reason and senses, has been sent back raging mad. The other woman, still lives in Birr, still continues insane, nor are there any hopes of her recovery. Anon, ‘Awful Occurrence’, 1846