BANSHEES

BANSHEES
By Mr. Elliot O'Donnell

OF all Irish ghosts, fairies, or bogles, the Banshee (sometimes called
locally the "Boheentha" or "Bankeen-tha") is the best known to the general
public: indeed, cross-Channel visitors would class her with pigs, potatoes,
and other fauna and flora of Ireland, and would expect her to make manifest
her presence to them as being one of the sights of the country. She is a
spirit with a lengthy pedigree--how lengthy no man can say, as its roots go
back into the dim, mysterious past. The most famous Banshee of ancient times
was that attached to the kingly house of O'Brien, Aibhill, who haunted the
rock of Craglea above Killaloe, near the old palace of Kincora. In A.D. 1014
was fought the battle of Clontarf, from which the aged king, Brian Boru, knew
that he would never come away alive, for the previous night Aibhill had
appeared to him to tell him of his impending fate. The Banshee's method of
foretelling death in olden times differed from that adopted by her at the
present day: now she wails and wrings her hands, as a general rule, but in
the old Irish tales she is to be found washing human heads and limbs, or
blood-stained clothes, till the water is all dyed with human blood--this
would take place before a battle. So it would seem that in the course of
centuries her attributes and characteristics have changed somewhat.

  Very different descriptions are given of her personal appearance. Sometimes
she is young and beautiful, sometimes old and of a fearsome appearance. One
writer describes her as "a tall, thin woman with uncovered head, and long
hair that floated round her shoulders, attired in something which seemed
either a loose white cloak, or a sheet thrown hastily around her, uttering
piercing cries."

  Another person, a coachman, saw her one evening sitting on a stile in the
yard; she seemed to be a very small woman, with blue eyes, long light hair,
and wearing a red cloak. Other descriptions will be found in this chapter. By
the way, it does not seem to be true that the Banshee exclusively follows
families of Irish descent, for the last incident had reference to the death
of a member of a Co. Galway family English by name and origin.

  One of the oldest and best-known Banshee stories is that related in the
Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw.* In 1642 her husband, Sir Richard, and she chanced
to visit a friend, the head of an Irish sept, who resided in his ancient
baronial castle, surrounded with a moat. At midnight she was awakened by a
ghastly and supernatural scream, and looking out of bed, beheld in the
moonlight a female face and part of the form hovering at the window. The
distance from the ground, as well as the circumstance of the moat, excluded
the possibility that what she beheld was of this world. The face was that of
a young and rather handsome woman, but pale, and the hair, which was reddish
was loose and disheveled. The dress, which Lady Fanshaw's terror did not
prevent her remarking accurately, was that of the ancient Irish. This
apparition continued to exhibit itself for some time, and then vanished with
two shrieks similar to that which had first excited Lady Fanshaw's attention.
In the morning, with infinite terror, she communicated to her host what she
had witnessed, and found him prepared not only to credit, but to account for
the superstition. "A near relation of my family," said he, "expired last
night in this castle. We disguised our certain expectation of the event from
you, lest it should throw a cloud over the cheerful reception which was your
due. Now, before such an event happens in this family or castle, the female
specter whom you have seen is always visible. She is believed to be the
spirit of a woman of inferior rank, whom one of my ancestors degraded himself
by marrying, and whom afterwards, to expiate the dishonor done to his family,
he caused to be drowned in the moat." In strictness this woman could hardly
be termed a Banshee. The motive for the haunting is akin to that in the tale
of the Scotch "Drummer of Cortachy "where the spirit of the murdered man
haunts the family out of revenge, and appears before a death.

* Scott's Lady of the Lake, notes to Canto III (edition of 1811).

  Mr. T. J. Westropp, M. A., has furnished the following story: "My maternal
grandmother heard the following tradition from her mother, one of the Miss
Ross-Lewins, who witnessed the occurrence. Their father, Mr. Harrison
Ross-Lewin, was away in Dublin on law business, and in his absence the young
people went off to spend the evening with a friend who lived some miles away.
The night was fine and lightsome as they were returning, save at one point
where the road ran between trees or high hedges not far to the west of the
old church of Kilchrist. The latter, like many similar ruins, was a simple
oblong building, with long side-walls and high gables, and at that time it
and its graveyard were unenclosed, and lay in the open fields. As the party
passed down the long dark lane they suddenly heard in the distance loud
keening and clapping of bands, as the country-people were accustomed to do
when lamenting the dead. The Ross-Lewins hurried on, and came in sight of the
church, on the side wall of which a little gray-haired old woman, clad in a
dark cloak, was running to and fro, chanting and wailing, and throwing up her
arms. The girls were very frightened, but the young men ran forward and
surrounded the ruin, and two of them went into the church, the apparition
vanishing from the wall as they did so. They searched every nook, and found
no one, nor did any one pass out. All were now well scared, and got home as
fast as possible. On reaching their home their mother opened the door, and at
once told them that she was in terror about their father, for, as she sat
looking out the window in the moonlight, a huge raven with fiery eyes lit on
the sill, and tapped three times on the glass. They told her their story,
which only added to their anxiety, and as they stood talking, taps came to
the nearest window, and they saw the bird again. A few days later news
reached them that Mr. Ross-Lewin had died suddenly in Dublin. This occurred
about 1776."

  Mr. Westropp also writes that the sister of a former Roman Catholic Bishop
told his sisters that when she was a little girl she went out one evening
with some other children for a walk. Going down the road, they passed the
gate of the principal demesne near the town. There was a rock, or large
stone, beside the road, on which they saw something. Going nearer, they
perceived it to be a little dark, old woman, who began crying and clapping
her hands. Some of them attempted to speak to her, but got frightened, and
all finally ran home as quickly as they could. Next day the news came that
the gentleman near whose gate the Banshee had cried, was dead, and it was
found on inquiry that he had died at the very hour at which the children had
seen the specter.

  A lady who is a relation of one of the compilers, and a member of a Co.
Cork family of English descent, sends the two following experiences of a
Banshee in her family. "My mother, when a young girl, was standing looking
out of the window in their house at Blackrock, near Cork. She suddenly saw a
white figure standing on a bridge which was easily visible from the house.
The figure waved her arms towards the house, and my mother heard the bitter
wailing of the Banshee. It lasted some seconds, and then the figure
disappeared. Next morning my grandfather was walking as usual into the city
of Cork. He accidentally fell, hit his head against the curbstone, and never
recovered consciousness.

  "In March, 1900, my mother was very ill, and one evening the nurse and I
were with her arranging her bed. We suddenly heard the most extraordinary
wailing, which seemed to come in waves round and under her bed. We naturally
looked everywhere to try and find the cause, but in vain. The nurse and I
looked at one another, but made no remark, as my mother did not seem to hear
it. My sister was downstairs sitting with my father. She heard it, and
thought some terrib!e thing had happened to her little boy, who was in bed
upstairs. She rushed up, and found him sleeping quietly. My father did not
hear it. In the house next door they heard it, and ran downstairs, thinking
something had happened to the servant; but the latter at once said to them,
'Did you hear the Banshee? Mrs. P---- must be dying.'"

  A few years ago (i.e. before 1894) a curious incident occurred in a public
school in connection with the belief in the Banshee. One of the boys,
happening to become ill, was at once placed in a room by himself, where he
used to sit all day. On one occasion, as he was being visited by the doctor,
he suddenly started up from his seat, and affirmed that he heard somebody
crying. The doctor, of course, who could hear or see nothing, came to the
conclusion that the illness had slightly affected his brain. However, the
boy, who appeared quite sensible, still persisted that he heard some one
crying, and furthermore said, "It is the Banshee, as I have heard it before."
The following morning the head-master received a telegram saying that the
boy's brother had been accidentally shot dead.*

* A. G. Bradley, Notes on some Irish Superstitions, p. 9.

  That the Banshee is not confined within the geographical limits of Ireland,
but that she can follow the fortunes of a family abroad, and there foretell
their death, is clearly shown by the following story. A party of visitors
were gathered together on the deck of a private yacht on one of the Italian
lakes, and during a lull in the conversation one of them, a Colonel, said to
the owner, "Count, who's that queer-looking woman you have on board?" The
Count replied that there was nobody except the ladies present, and the
stewardess, but the speaker protested that he was correct, and suddenly, with
a scream of horror, he placed his hands before his eyes, and exclaimed, "Oh,
my God, what a face!" For some time he was overcome with terror, and at
length reluctantly looked up, and cried:

  "Thank Heavens, it's gone!"

  "What was it?" asked the Count.

  "Nothing human," replied the Colonel--"nothing belonging to this world. It
was a woman of no earthly type, with a queer-shaped, gleaming face, a mass of
red hair, and eyes that would have been beautiful but for their expression,
which was hellish. She had on a green hood, after the fashion of an Irish
peasant."

  An American lady present suggested that the description tallied with that
of the Banshee, upon which the Count said:

   "I am an O'Neill--at least I am descended from one. My family name is, as
you know, Neilsini, which, little more than a century ago, was O'Neill. My
great-grandfather served in the Irish Brigade, and on its dissolution at the
time of the French Revolution had the good fortune to escape the general
massacre of officers, and in company with an O'Brien and a Maguire fled
across the frontier and settled in Italy. On his death his son, who had been
born in Italy, and was far more Italian than Irish, changed his name to
Neilsini, by which name the family has been known ever since. But for all
that we are Irish "

  "The Banshee was yours, then!" ejaculated the Colonel "What exactly does it
mean?"

  "It means," the Count replied solemnly, "the death of some one very nearly
associated with me. Pray Heaven it is not my wife or daughter."

  On that score, however, his anxiety was speedily removed, for within two
hours he was seized with a violent attack of angina pectoris, and died before
morning.*

* Occult Review for September, 1913.

  Mr. Elliott O'Donnell, to whose article on "Banshees" we are indebted for
the above, adds: "The Banshee never manifests itself to the person whose
death it is prognosticating. Other people may see or hear it, but the fated
one never, so that when every one present is aware of it but one, the fate of
that one may be regarded as pretty well certain."

(End.)