The Banshee
Although the Irish have the reputation
of being grossly superstitious,
they are not a whit more so
than the peasantry of England,
France, or Germany, nor
scarcely as much addicted to
superstitious beliefs and fancies
as the lower class of
Scottish Highlanders. The
Irish imagination is, however,
so lively as to endow
the legends of the Emerald Isle with an individuality
not possessed by those of most other nations, while the
Irish command of language presents the creatures of Hibernian
fancy in a garb so vividly real and yet so fantastically
original as to make an impression sometimes exceedingly
startling.
Of the creations of the Irish imagination, some are humorous,
some grotesque, and some awe-inspiring even to sublimity,
and chief among the last class is "the weird-wailing Banshee,
that sings by night her mournful cry," giving notice to
the family she attends that one of its members is soon to be
called to the spirit-world. The name of this dreaded attendant
is variously pronounced, as Banshee, Banshi, and Benshee,
being translated by different scholars, the Female Fairy,
the Woman of Peace, the Lady of Death, the Angel of Death,
the White Lady of Sorrow, the Nymph of the Air, and the
Spirit of the Air. The Banshee is quite distinct from the
Fearshee or Shifra, the Man of Peace, the latter bringing
good tidings and singing a joyful lay near the house when unexpected
good fortune is to befall any or all its inmates. The
Banshee is really a disembodied soul, that of one who, in life,
was strongly attached to the family, or who had good reason
to hate all its members. Thus, in different instances, the
Banshee's song may be inspired by opposite motives. When
the Banshee loves those whom she calls, the song is a low, soft
chant, giving notice, indeed, of the close proximity of the
angel of death, but with a tenderness of tone that reassures
the one destined to die and comforts the survivors; rather a
welcome than a warning, and having in its tones a thrill of
exultation, as though the messenger spirit were bringing glad
tidings to him summoned to join the waiting throng of his
ancestors. If, during her lifetime, the Banshee was an enemy
of the family, the cry is the scream of a fiend, howling with
demoniac delight over the coming death-agony of another of
her foes.
In some parts of Ireland there exists a belief that the spirits of the dead are not taken from earth, nor do they lose all their former interest in earthly affairs, but enjoy the happiness of the saved, or suffer the punishment imposed for their sins, in the neighborhood of the scenes among which they lived while clothed in flesh and blood. At particular crises in the affairs of mortals, these disenthralled spirits sometimes display joy or grief in such a manner as to attract the attention of living men and women. At weddings they are frequently unseen guests; at funerals they are always present; and sometimes, at both weddings and funerals, their presence is recognized by aerial voices or mysterious music known to be of unearthly origin. The spirits of the good wander with the living as guardian angels, but the spirits of the bad are restrained in their action, and compelled to do penance at or near the places where their crimes were committed. Some are chained at the bottoms of the lakes, others buried under ground, others confined in mountain gorges; some hang on the sides of precipices, others are transfixed on the tree-tops, while others haunt the homes of their ancestors, all waiting till the penance has been endured and the hour of release arrives. The Castle of Dunseverick, in Antrim, is believed to be still inhabited by the spirit of a chief, who there atones for a horrid crime, while the castles of Dunluce, of Magrath, and many others are similarly peopled by the wicked dead. In the Abbey of Clare, the ghost of a sinful abbot walks and will continue to do so until his sin has been atoned for by the prayers he unceasingly mutters in his tireless march up and down the aisles of the ruined nave.
In some parts of Ireland there exists a belief that the spirits of the dead are not taken from earth, nor do they lose all their former interest in earthly affairs, but enjoy the happiness of the saved, or suffer the punishment imposed for their sins, in the neighborhood of the scenes among which they lived while clothed in flesh and blood. At particular crises in the affairs of mortals, these disenthralled spirits sometimes display joy or grief in such a manner as to attract the attention of living men and women. At weddings they are frequently unseen guests; at funerals they are always present; and sometimes, at both weddings and funerals, their presence is recognized by aerial voices or mysterious music known to be of unearthly origin. The spirits of the good wander with the living as guardian angels, but the spirits of the bad are restrained in their action, and compelled to do penance at or near the places where their crimes were committed. Some are chained at the bottoms of the lakes, others buried under ground, others confined in mountain gorges; some hang on the sides of precipices, others are transfixed on the tree-tops, while others haunt the homes of their ancestors, all waiting till the penance has been endured and the hour of release arrives. The Castle of Dunseverick, in Antrim, is believed to be still inhabited by the spirit of a chief, who there atones for a horrid crime, while the castles of Dunluce, of Magrath, and many others are similarly peopled by the wicked dead. In the Abbey of Clare, the ghost of a sinful abbot walks and will continue to do so until his sin has been atoned for by the prayers he unceasingly mutters in his tireless march up and down the aisles of the ruined nave.
The Banshee is of the spirits who look with interested eyes
on earthly doings; and, deeply attached to the old families,
or, on the contrary, regarding all their members with a hatred
beyond that known to mortals, lingers about their dwellings
to soften or to aggravate the sorrow of the approaching death.
The Banshee attends only the old families, and though their
descendants, through misfortune, may be brought down from
high estate to the ranks of peasant-tenants, she never leaves
nor forgets them till the last member has been gathered to
his fathers in the churchyard. The MacCarthys, Magraths,
O'Neills, O'Rileys, O'Sullivans, O'Reardons, O'Flahertys, and
almost all other old families of Ireland, have Banshees,
though many representatives of these names are in abject
poverty.
The wail most frequently comes at night, although cases are
cited of Banshees singing during the daytime, and the song is
often inaudible to all save the one for whom the warning is
intended. This, however, is not general, the death notice being
for the family rather than for the doomed individual.
The spirit is generally alone, though rarely several are heard
singing in chorus. A lady of the O'Flaherty family, greatly
beloved for her social qualities, benevolence, and piety, was,
some years ago, taken ill at the family mansion near Galway,
though no uneasiness was felt on her account, as her ailment
seemed nothing more than a slight cold. After she had remained
in-doors for a day or two several of her acquaintances
came to her room to enliven her imprisonment, and while the
little party were merrily chatting, strange sounds were heard,
and all trembled and turned pale as they recognized the singing
of a chorus of Banshees. The lady's ailment developed
into pleurisy, and she died in a few days, the chorus being
again heard in a sweet, plaintive requiem as the spirit was
leaving her body. The honor of being warned by more than
one Banshee is, however, very great, and comes only to the
purest of the pure.
The "hateful Banshee" is much dreaded by members of a
family against which she has enmity. A noble Irish family,
whose name is still familiar in Mayo, is attended by a Banshee
of this description. This Banshee is the spirit of a young girl
deceived and afterwards murdered by a former head of the
family. With her dying breath she cursed her murderer, and
promised she would attend him and his forever. Many years
passed, the chieftain reformed his ways, and his youthful
crime was almost forgotten even by himself, when, one night,
he and his family were seated by the fire, and suddenly the
most horrid shrieks were heard outside the castle walls. All
ran out, but saw nothing. During the night the screams continued
as though the castle were besieged by demons, and the
unhappy man recognized, in the cry of the Banshee, the voice
of the young girl he had murdered. The next night he was
assassinated by one of his followers, when again the wild, unearthly
screams of the spirit were heard, exulting over his
fate. Since that night, the "hateful Banshee" has never
failed to notify the family, with shrill cries of revengeful gladness,
when the time of one of their number had arrived.
Banshees are not often seen, but those that have made
themselves visible differ as much in personal appearance as in
the character of their cries. The "friendly Banshee" is a
young and beautiful female spirit, with pale face, regular,
well-formed features, hair sometimes coal-black, sometimes
golden; eyes blue, brown, or black. Her long, white drapery
falls below her feet as she floats in the air, chanting her weird
warning, lifting her hands as if in pitying tenderness bestowing
a benediction on the soul she summons to the invisible
world. The "hateful Banshee" is a horrible hag, with angry,
distorted features; maledictions are written in every line
of her wrinkled face, and her outstretched arms call down
curses on the doomed member of the hated race. Though
generally the only intimation of the presence of the Banshee
is her cry, a notable instance of the contrary exists in the
family of the O'Reardons, to the doomed member of which
the Banshee always appears in the shape of an exceedingly
beautiful woman, who sings a song so sweetly solemn as to
reconcile him to his approaching fate.
The prophetic spirit does not follow members of a family
who go to a foreign land, but should death overtake them
abroad, she gives notice of the misfortune to those at home.
When the Duke of Wellington died, the Banshee was heard
wailing round the house of his ancestors, and during the Napoleonic
campaigns, she frequently notified Irish families of
the death in battle of Irish officers and soldiers. The night
before the battle of the Boyne several Banshees were heard
singing in the air over the Irish camp, the truth of their
prophecy being verified by the death-roll of the next day.
How the Banshee is able to obtain early and accurate information
from foreign parts of the death in battle of Irish soldiers
is yet undecided in Hibernian mystical circles. Some
believe that there are, in addition to the two kinds already
mentioned, "silent Banshees," who act as attendants to the
members of old families, one to each member; that these
silent spirits follow and observe, bringing back intelligence to
the family Banshee at home, who then, at the proper seasons,
sings her dolorous strain. A partial confirmation of this
theory is seen in the fact that the Banshee has given notice at
the family seat in Ireland of deaths in battles fought in every
part of the world. From North America, the West Indies,
Africa, Australia, India, China; from every point to which
Irish regiments have followed the roll of the British drums,
news of the prospective shedding of Irish blood has been
brought home, and the slaughter preceded by a Banshee wail
outside the ancestral windows. But it is due to the reader to
state, that this silent Banshee theory is by no means well or
generally received, the burden of evidence going to show that
there are only two kinds of Banshees, and that, in a supernatural
way, they know the immediate future of those in
whom they are interested, not being obliged to leave Ireland
for the purpose of obtaining their information.
Such is the wild Banshee, once to be heard in every part
of Ireland, and formerly believed in so devoutly that to express
a doubt of her existence was little less than blasphemy.
Now, however, as she attends only the old families and does
not change to the new, with the disappearance of many noble
Irish names during the last half century have gone also their
Banshees, until in only a few retired districts of the west coast
is the dreaded spirit still found, while in most parts of the
island she has become only a superstition, and from the majesty
of a death-boding angel, is rapidly sinking to a level with
the Fairy, the Leprechawn and the Pooka; the subject for
tales to amuse the idle and terrify the young.
Please take a moment to "Like" Shadows In A Timeless Myth on Amazon.
(Shadows is also available at Barnes & Noble for the Nook)
Complimentary Shadows In A Timeless Myth Short Story
Complimentary Shadows In A Timeless Myth Musical Jigsaw Puzzle
Shadows In A Timeless Myth Book Trailer Video
Shadows In a Timeless Myth on Facebook
Smiles & Good Fortune,
Teresa
************************************
It is not wealth one asks for, but just enough to preserve one’s dignity, to work unhampered, to be generous, frank and independent. W. Somerset Maugham (1874-1965) Of Human Bondage, 1915
No comments:
Post a Comment