There was a marriage in the townland
of Curragraigue. After the usual festivities, and when the guests were left
to themselves, and were drinking to the prosperity of the bride and bridegroom,
they were startled by the appearance of the man himself rushing into the room
with anguish in his looks.
"Oh!" cried he, "Margaret is
carried away by the fairies, I'm sure. The girls were not left the room for
half a minute when I went in, and there is no more sign of her there than
if she never was born."
Great consternation prevailed,
great search was made, but no Margaret was to be found. After a night and
day spent in misery, the poor bridegroom laid down to take some rest. In a
while he seemed to himself to awake from a troubled dream, and look out into
the room. The moon was shining in through the window, and in the middle of
the slanting rays stood Margaret in her white bridal clothes. He thought to
speak and leap out of the bed, but his tongue was without utterance, and his
limbs unable to move.
"Do not be disturbed, dear husband,"
said the appearance; "I am now in the power of the fairies, but if you only
have courage and prudence we may be soon happy with each other again. Next
Friday will be May-eve, and the whole court will ride out of the old fort
after midnight. I must be there along with the rest. Sprinkle a circle with
holy water, and have a black-hafted knife with you. If you have courage to
pull me off the horse, and draw me into the ring, all they can do will be
useless. You must have some food for me every night on the dresser, for if
I taste one mouthful with them, I will be lost to you forever. The fairies
got power over me because I was only thinking of you, and did not prepare
myself as I ought for the sacrament. I made a bad confession, and now I am
suffering for it. Don't forget what I have said."
"Oh, no, my darling," cried he,
recovering his speech, but by the time he had slipped out of bed, there was
no living soul in the room but himself. Till Friday night the poor young husband
spent a desolate time. The food was left on the dresser over night, and it
rejoiced all hearts to find it vanished by morning. A little before midnight
he was at the entrance of the old rath. He formed the circle, took his station
within it, and kept the black-hafted knife ready for service. At times he
was nervously afraid of losing his dear wife, and at others burning with impatience
for the struggle. At last the old fort with its dark high bushy fences cutting
against the sky, was in a moment replaced by a palace and its court. A thousand
lights flashed from the windows and lofty hall entrance; numerous torches
were brandished by attendants stationed round the courtyard; and a numerous
cavalcade of richly attired ladies and gentlemen was moving in the direction
of the gate where he found himself standing. As they rode by him laughing
and jesting, he could not tell whether they were aware of his presence or
not. He looked intent at each countenance as it approached, but it was some
time before he caught sight of the dear face and figure borne along on a milk-white
steed. She recognized him well enough, and her features now broke into a smile
-- now expressed deep anxiety. She was unable for the throng to guide the
animal close to the ring of power; so he suddenly rushed out of his bounds,
seized her in his arms, and lifted her off.. Cries of rage and fury arose
on every side; they were hemmed in, and weapons were directed at his head
and breast to terrify him. He seemed to be inspired with superhuman courage
and force, and wielding the powerful knife he soon cleared a space round him,
all seeming dismayed by the sight of the weapon. He lost no time, but drew
his wife within the ring, within which none of the myriads round dared to
enter. Shouts of derision and defiance continued to fill the air for some
time, but the expedition could not be delayed. As the end of the procession
filed past the gate and the circle within which the mortal pair held each
other determinedly clasped, darkness and silence fell on the old rath and
the fields round it, and the rescued bride and her lover breathed freely.
We will not detain the sensitive reader on the happy walk home, on the joy
that hailed their arrival, and on all the eager gossip that occupied the townland
and the five that surround it for a month after the happy rescue.
Source: Legendary Fictions of
the Irish Celts, collected and narrated by Patrick Kennedy (London: Macmillan
and Company, 1866), pp. 111-113.
Note : A "rath" is he remains
of the earthen fort of one of the small chiefs of old days. They are erroneously
called "Danes' forts." - Kennedy (p. 100). The use of the term "Dane"
should perhaps not be taken to refer to "Vikings" but to the Faer Folk.
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