target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#n80" type="note">[80] to wait for a ship that would take John Byrne to America. While walking along the quay, they saw a girl sitting and crying, with two men arguing in front of her. Doran said, “I think I know what’s wrong. That man must be her brother, and the other man must be her lover. The brother is sending her to America to separate her from the lover. She’s crying so much, but I think I could comfort her myself.” Eventually, the lover and brother left, and Doran started talking to her, saying things like, “Nice weather, Miss.” She responded after a while, and the three of them began talking. The ship didn’t arrive for a few days, so the three of them happily explored the area in horse-drawn carriages. When the ship finally came, Doran had to tell her that he wasn’t going to America. She cried more for him than she did for her first lover. Before boarding the ship, Doran whispered to Byrne, “Now, Byrne, I don’t envy you, but don’t get married young.”
He continued the story, telling how he wrote Byrne the same advice when he received a letter about Byrne’s engagement to the girl. Years passed, and he heard nothing. Finally, he went to America to find out, but he couldn’t find any information. More years went by, his wife passed away, and he grew older, becoming a rich farmer with many responsibilities. He found an excuse to go back to America and resume his search. One day, he struck up a conversation with an Irishman on a train and asked about emigrants from certain places, including the miller’s daughter from Innis Rath[81], mentioning her name. The man replied, “Oh yes, she’s married to my friend, John MacEwing. She lives on such-and-such street in Chicago.” Doran went to Chicago and knocked on her door. She opened it herself and hadn’t changed a bit. He told her his real name, which he started using again after his grandfather passed away, and the name of the man he met on the train. She didn’t recognize him but invited him to stay for dinner, saying her husband would be happy to meet someone who knew his old friend. They talked about many things, but for some reason, he never revealed his true identity to her. During dinner, he asked about Byrne, and she put her head down on the table and started crying. He was worried that her husband might get angry, so he didn’t dare ask what had happened to Byrne. He left shortly after and never saw her again.
THE SORCERERS[82]
In Ireland, we don’t hear much about dark powers, and it’s rare to meet someone who has seen them. These dark powers are said to be always around us, like bats[83] on an old tree. We don’t hear much about them because dark magic is not commonly practiced. I have met very few people in Ireland who try to communicate with evil powers, and they keep their activities hidden. They are usually small clerks and meet in a room with black curtains for their practices. They didn’t let me into that room, but since I had some knowledge of the mysterious arts, they showed me what they could do in another place. Their leader, a clerk from a flour-mill[84], invited me to join them and witness spirits who can talk to us face to face, in solid and heavy forms like our own.
On the agreed night, I arrived around eight o’clock and found the leader sitting alone in a small dim room. He was wearing a black robe that covered him completely, except for his eyes that peered through two small holes. On the table in front of him, there was a dish with burning herbs, a large bowl, a skull with painted symbols, two crossed daggers[85], and some tools shaped like stones. The sorcerer took a black rooster out of a basket and used one of the daggers to cut its throat, letting the blood flow into the large bowl. He opened a book and started an invocation in a language I couldn’t understand. Before he finished, another sorcerer entered the room and sat on my left side. I had the invoker directly in front of me, and I began to feel a strange effect from his eyes. I struggled against their influence, and my head started to ache. The invocation continued, and nothing happened in the first few minutes. Then the invoker stood up and turned off the light in the room, so there was no light except for the herbs burning on the dish.
Then the person on my left started moving and exclaimed, “Oh God! Oh God!” I asked him what was wrong, but he didn’t realize he had spoken. A moment later, he said he could see a large snake moving around the room. I didn’t see anything with a clear shape, but I felt like dark clouds were forming around me. I knew I had to resist[86] entering a trance state caused by this influence, which felt evil. After a struggle, I managed to dispel the dark clouds and regain[87] my normal senses. The two sorcerers began to see black and white columns moving in the room, and eventually, they saw a man in a monk’s robe[88]. They were confused that I couldn’t see these things because, to them, they appeared as solid as the table in front of them. The invoker seemed to be gaining more power, and I felt as if a wave of darkness was emanating[89] from him and surrounding me. I also noticed that the person on my left had fallen into a deep trance. With a final effort, I pushed away the dark clouds. However, since those clouds were the only shapes I could see without entering a trance, and I didn’t particularly like them, I asked for lights to be turned on. After the necessary ritual, I returned to the ordinary world.
For several days, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of having deformed and grotesque figures lingering around me. The Bright Powers are always beautiful and desirable, and the Dim Powers can be beautiful or strange. However, the Dark Powers manifest their imbalanced nature through shapes of ugliness and horror.
THE DEVIL
One day, an old woman from Mayo[90] told me that something very bad had come down the road and entered the house across from hers. She didn’t say what it was, but I understood. Another time, she shared a story about two of her friends who have met the devil. One of them was standing by the roadside when the person on horseback[91] asked her to join him for a ride. When she said “no”, he disappeared. The other friend was waiting for her boyfriend on the road late at night when something rolled towards her. It looked like a newspaper, but suddenly it flew up into her face. It was the Irish Times[92]! Then it turned into a young man who invited her to go for a walk. She said “no”, and he was gone.
I also know of an old man living on the slopes of Ben Bulben who found the devil ringing a bell under his bed. So, he went and stole the chapel bell[93] and rang it, driving the devil away. Probably, like the other stories, this wasn’t actually the devil but a woodland spirit with cloven feet[94].
HAPPY AND UNHAPPY THEOLOGIANS[95]
Once, a woman from Mayo told me a story. She said, “I knew a maid who hanged herself [96]because of her love for God. She felt lonely without the priest and her community, so she used a scarf to hang herself from the banister. As soon as she died, she turned as white as a lily. They gave her a Christian burial, and the priest said that she was immediately with the Lord after her death. So, it doesn’t matter what you do for the love of God.” I understand why she enjoys telling this story. She herself has a strong love for all things holy. She once told me that she sees everything described in a sermon with her own eyes. She described the gates of Purgatory as they appeared to her. One day, she asked me which month and flower were the most beautiful. When I said I didn’t know, she replied, “The month of May because of the Virgin Mary, and the lily of the valley because it never sinned, but came pure out of the rocks.” Then she asked, “Why are there the three cold months of winter?” I didn’t know the answer to that either, so she said, “It’s the sin of humanity and God’s