Tommy Connolly told friends, “At the end of 1901 I took some time and went across the water to Ireland, where I spent time visiting a close relative who lived in a Square in the north side of Dublin. Several weeks later, in January 1902, my relative’s husband fell seriously ill. Over the next few nights I sat up with him until, at last, as his health appeared to improve, I decided to go to my bed and asked one of the house servants to call me if anything should happen. Tiredness quickly overcame me, and I soon fell asleep, but sometime later I was awakened again by a strong push on my left shoulder. Startled by this, I jumped up in the bed and asked, ‘Is there anything wrong?’ I didn’t get an answer to my question, but only received another push. Annoyed by this behaviour I angrily asked, ‘Can you not speak, and tell me if there is anything wrong!’ But there was still no answer, and I had a feeling that I was just going to get another push. It was then that I suddenly turned around and caught hold of a human hand, which felt plump, warm, and soft to my touch.
“’Who are you?’ I asked, but still I got no reply answer. Then, using every ounce of my strength I tried to pull the person towards me, but it was in vain. And yet, I told the person, ‘I will find out who you are!’ holding the hand tight in my right hand while, with my left, I felt the wrist and arm, enclosed, it appeared to me, in a tight-fitting sleeve of some type of winter material with a linen cuff. But when I got as far as the elbow all trace of an arm appeared to vanish. This shocked me greatly, and in my fright, I released my grip on the hand and, at that moment, I heard the clock strike two.
“If you included the mistress of the house, there were five women in that home, and I am certain that the hand did not belong to any one of them. Then, when I reported the event in the house, the servants exclaimed, ‘Ah, sure, it must have been old Aunt Betty, who lived for many years in that area of the house, and she was already a great age when she died over fifty years ago.’ It was only after learning this that I heard the same room in which I had felt the hand was believed to be haunted, for very curious noises and strange happenings had occurred, including bed clothes being torn off, furniture being thrown, etc. It was said that one lady got a slap in the face from an invisible hand, and when she lit her lamp, she saw something shadowy fall or jump off the bed.Afterwards, the lady’s brother, an army officer, slept in that same place for two nights, but preferred to seek a room in a hotel in which to sleep for a third night. He left the next morning without stating what he had seen or heard, but only shook his head saying he would never sleep there again. Following this, however, I spent several months in the house, sleeping in that same room, and I was never again disturbed in any way.“
Salt, as we all know, is useful for many purposes in life. But there are many applications for this preservative which are not known outside of the Irish community. For your sake and to remind those Irish who have forgotten many of their traditions in this modern world let me enlighten you as to some of the ‘Charms of Salt.’
You should never attend a funeral or a wake until you have taken the precaution of fortifying yourself against evil by eating a few grains of salt. At the same time, you should also take with you. If you do these things you will be safe. Neither the ‘evil eye’ of a neighbour, nor the tricks of spirits, who are forever on the alert to take advantage of those people who fail to provide themselves with protection against them.
Salt is also regarded as an infallible remedy for the traumatic effects that occur when one sees a ghost.
A pinch of salt is always put into milk that is given away and the woman of the house should never permit milk to be taken out of the premises unless this is done, whether the milk be sold or given free to a friend in need. One grain of salt will be enough, but if none were added it would result in a great misfortune of some kind befalling the dairy or the cow.
“Ah, would you ever be quiet?” the old man in the corner shouted as we were in the middle of discussing strange stories we had heard. “Would you ever believe this?”
“Would I believe what?” I asked him.
“I’ll tell you a true story that I heard from the man’s own mouth. God be merciful to him and him as truthful as the day is long,” the old man declared.
“What story would that be?” I asked.
“Do you know Barney Douglas who lived over beyond Ballymore?” replied the old man. But when I shook my head to show that I didn’t know the man, the old man continued, “Ah, sure, you would not have known him, for he died before you came here. Well, Barney was coming home from town one night, after midnight and, maybe, nearer to one in the morning. He had his ‘donkey cart’ with him and he was walking along happily at the pony’s head. He was enjoying a wee smoke to himself on a fine moonlit night until he came across three men ahead of him in the middle of the road, and they were carrying a coffin. It was quite a while before they let the coffin down. Sure, the hair was standing on Barney’s head with fear, but blessing himself with the sign of the cross he walked on until he came to where the three men were standing beside the coffin.”
“‘The Blessing of God on you all,” Barney greeted them in Irish. ‘and what is happening?’”
“’The same to yourself,’ said one of the three men, “but c’mon take a place under this coffin and ask no more questions.’
“Well he was going to aske them what would he do with his pony and cart, but he decided not to now that he was told to ask no more questions. But he didn’t have ask for the men knew well what was in his mind, and another one of the men told him, ‘Sure, your pony and cart will be alright here until you get back.’
“Well, Barney went with them and helped them to carry the coffin, and a heavier corpse he had never known, by God. They went ahead until they left the coffin in the graveyard and then he was told that he could go back to his pony and cart. ‘Sure, men, I will help you to dig the grave.’
“’Do what you’re told,’ said the third man, who hadn’t spoken before, ‘or maybe it would be the worse for you.’
“’Well, Barney didn’t want to repeat himself, so he returned to his pony and cart and found them exactly where he had left them.”
“Did Barney know them?” I asked when the old man had finished.
“Did he know them? By God he knew them! For they were three of his own first cousins who had died long before that night.”
“So, who was in the coffin?” I asked.
“Barney’s own brother, who had died in California that same night, as he heard afterwards in a letter that was sent by his uncle in America,” the old man informed me. But he also assured me that Barney was never known to tell a lie in his life, and that he is dead now, may his soul rest in peace.
“Amen,” I answered.
Now, all of you who are reading this let me ask you not to make fun! You may never be asked by the dead to carry the dead at a mysterious midnight funeral, but I urge you not to make fun of Barney Douglas’ experience.
The slow flowing waters of the River Blackwater form the border between the counties of Armagh and Tyrone in Northern Ireland. Along the banks of this river there lived a young man by the name of ‘Dinny’ Hughes, who was known for having a temper that was so terrible that they say the likes of it had never been seen before. He was a man who simply could not control his mouth or the venomous words that he spat out at all he met. People avoided crossing his path, fearing that he would bring his foul language and dark curses down upon them. But ‘Dinny’s’ greatest joy was to take his victims by surprise and devise new curses and oaths that could be added to his already large armoury of insults.
Such was the reputation that had grown up around ‘Dinny’ Hughes that there were virtually none of his neighbours who would talk to him, or converse with him at any time. In fact, most people dreaded the possibility of meeting him on a local road, for they were convinced that some dark demon had taken possession of him and that was why he enjoyed tormenting others with his cruel words. Yet, despite his villainous reputation and bad temper, ‘Dinny’ had forged a good friendship with another man of similar age, who was known to everyone as Jimmy Kelly. He had heard the stories and listened to the warnings of others that he would be better off if he was free of company such as ‘Dinny’ Hughes, but he chose to ignore them.
These two young men appeared to enjoy each other’s company and on many a day they could be seen wandering the local roads or roaming over the green fields of the parish but never straying too far from home. Then, one day, despite their remarkably close friendship, there were bitter words exchanged between the two men, which developed into bad tempered name calling and, finally, vicious blows. Beneath the warm summer sun punch followed punch, all made with great effort and in a way that could damage their opponent in the most painful way. As they fought, they perspired copiously, their breaths becoming increasingly heavier as their chests heaved wearily and they became unsteady on their feet. The fight continued with no man gaining mastery over the other and, after an hour of constant struggle, the battle ended with both men simply collapsing to the ground in exhaustion. Both men were wracked with pain and exhaustion and left enfeebled like two infant children, and although the pummelling with fists had ceased the tirade of vicious curses and words continued to pour from those breathless voices. ‘Dinny’ screamed aloud and uttered a terrible curse that was quickly followed by a dark oath, which saw him swear to have his vengeance and bring about the death of Jimmy Kelly. Even if he was himself dead, he made an oath to reach out from his grave and keep his promise like an avenging angel.
Quite unexpectedly, three days after the violent encounter that had taken place between the two men, ‘Dinny’ suddenly became extremely ill and despite the best efforts of other he died within hours. Jimmy Kelly, for one, was relieved at the news of his former friend’s passing. He had been deeply upset by ‘Dinny’s’ villainous oath against him and now that he was dead there was no longer any need to fear him. The oath, like ‘Dinny’ himself, was now buried six feet below the ground and there was no chance of him rising again from there. Death, Jimmy believed was the great equaliser, being the fate of all whether rich or poor, strong, or weak. From the grave the rich man no longer held power over the poor, and the strong man no longer had mastery over those who were weak.
Jimmy Kelly’s sense of contentment would only last a short time, however, and would be shattered like a broken mirror by a dream that brought with it a dire warning for his future. The dream shook Jimmy so much that all his new-found courage quickly left him, and his life became filled with a constant sense of menace. In this vision Jimmy had seen himself standing alone in a lush green field, where he was suddenly confronted with the terrifying image of a huge black bull charging down on him. As the beast’s great head stormed toward him, Jimmy could see the bull’s eyes glowing red like burning coals, which made the huge creature appear to be some unearthly horned demon. Jimmy was immediately frozen to the spot as fear and terror gripped his body and he now stood before the charging beast as if rooted to the ground. On three occasions that great black demon bull charged toward Jimmy, wounding him on each occasion with its long, sharp, and magnificently curved horns. Finally, panting breathlessly and sweating profusely, Jimmy awoke from his dream and called out, “What is happening?” as he arose in the bed. “Has the Devil allowed the dead to take the form of a huge black bull to attack and kill the likes of me? This is ‘Dinny’ at work, trying to bring me to that dark destruction he promised, and I have stared into those fierce, evil burning eyes of a demon summoned from Hell!”
The reality of his dream came to him only one short month later, when Jimmy did find himself alone in a lush green field and saw a great black bull come charging toward him. Just as in the dream, the great bull struck him three times and he felt the excruciating pain inflicted on his body by those sharp and massive horns. Almost as quickly as it had appeared this vision vanished without trace except for Jimmy, lying on the ground, writhing in pain but incredibly happy to be still alive. He was also grateful for the period of peace and quiet that followed this strange incident, allowing Jimmy to reflect on what had happened to him and how he had been lucky to escape the full wrath of ‘Dinny’s’ dark oath.
It wasn’t too long before Jimmy Kelly received a new warning that came to him, once again, as he slept and that cold deep fear that he had felt before now returned and filled his heart. On this occasion the warning came in the form of a great black goat that stood on its hind legs and, with satanic eyes glowing like the embers in a turf fire, it leaped forward to attack Jimmy. Once again, he awoke breathlessly panting and with his body soaked in sweat. “Maybe the Devil has given him less strength this time,” Jimmy told himself, “But I still have a dark encounter to face. This beast is big and strong, and, on this occasion, it will be attacking me with all its four feet off the ground,”
As before the vision that was presented to Jimmy quickly became a reality. In the green field the image a great black goat suddenly appeared before him and immediately threw its full weight and strength into a head-on charge. On this occasion Jimmy was to endure three separate attacks from the goat until he was finally left lying prostrate on the ground, wracked in agony with every bone in his body filled with pain. He could not move. He did not want to move because the terror that now filled his mind. But, after two or three weeks of rest and care his wounds began to heal and peace returned to him once more, just prior to a third visit of a dark dream.
This dream was different in that Jimmy saw himself standing in the lane that ran between his house and the green field when, suddenly, a large black Turkey cock flew down from above to attack him. Still sleeping, Jimmy let out a loud and hearty laugh that awoke him. Still laughing, Jimmy told himself, “Sure, that old devil mustn’t have much left to him when he thinks that I’ll be afraid of being overpowered and destroyed by a Turkey cock, especially after what I’ve been through. Does the fool imagine that a fine, stout-hearted man such as myself would ever be afraid of a bird?”
Several days later Jimmy began laughing aloud as he stood in the lane and saw the big black Turkey cock begin to sweep down toward him. His laughter ceased immediately when the big bird attacked him and, with one blow, split Jimmy’s skull with its large beak that looked more like a big, sharp knife. The second and third strikes that the Turkey made dashed Jimmy’s brains and scattered the grey matter onto the brown, dusty lane. This is how Jimmy Kelly suffered a terrible death, just as was promised by ‘Dinny’ Hughes when he uttered his dark oath. ‘Dinny’ had accomplished his evil curse and the grave had proven itself to be unable to protect Jimmy as he believed it would.
As we all travel through this world, we are very much aware of where we are and what we might expect. But about that place to which we travel after death we know absolutely nothing. The passing of our spirit from our dead body is probably the most mysterious and frightening event that we can contemplate. In an older time in Ireland the people held a belief that the spirit of a person passes from the body of the deceased through the join in their skull. Our mouths speak our evil to the world, while our eyes have seen the evil that has occurred, and our ears have heard the evil that is spoken of, and quite rightly the ancients asked what right and fitting passage would allow our spirit to leave our body without being exposed to evil. In a society ruled by men there were, of course, claims made that there were certain differences between the male and the female skull. The truth of this differences is alleged to be demonstrated by the fact that it is the female who endures the most painful departure from the flesh.