Dublin Folk Tales for Children Read online

  ‘Would you like me to play some more?’

  The three cousins exchanged a quick look. Their nervousness was won over by their curiosity, so they nodded a third time!

  ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘But, as my first audience, you must take the front row seats.’

  He threw some sacks on the ground for them to sit on. The kids didn’t move at first.

  ‘Please’ he said, ‘Please be my guests.’

  They looked at each other for and then slowly they walked over, lead by Séamus. Barko sat beside him, and Mr Shh Shh resumed playing; the dancing colours and the sounds filled the old warehouse with a magic that ’s even hard to imagine.

  When Mr Shh Shh stopped playing the bottles he turned around. The kids could see that he was smiling, but he had a little bits of tears in his eyes too. Séamus felt a little bit of tears in his own eyes, but he wasn’t exactly sure why.

  Mr Shh Shh came over and sat down with the kids on the floor, and began to talk to them.

  ‘Thank you for listening to me,’ he said. ‘You have been my first ever audience.’

  They asked him loads of questions, and he answered them as best he could. He told him that his name was Karl. He said he knew that they called him Mr Shh Shh, but he didn’t mind.

  Karl told them the story of how he had to run away from his own country because it was at war. He pulled out a paper bag of bull’s eye sweets to share, and told them many stories from his life. This was the most Karl had spoken to any person in years!

  He said when he came to Ireland he had to leave left everything behind. He was very lonely, but as we know, he didn’t like to talk very much.

  One day, a few weeks after he arrived, he was down walking by the canal, when didn’t he spot a sack on the ground. It was moving! He walked over, opened it and there inside was a little puppy. The poor puppy was barely alive, and had a terrible cold from being outside in the damp. Karl took it home and looked after it. The puppy grew stronger every day and was full of beans but he was never able to bark.

  ‘I called him Sack,’ he told the kids, ‘because I found him in a sack.’

  ‘We call him Barko,’ piped up Aoife.

  ‘I know,’ said Karl. ‘And that’s a much better name. I think he likes it better too, so that’s going to be his official name from now on. Barko!’

  Barko jumped up when he heard his name being mentioned, and gave Karl a big lick on the face. Everyone laughed.

  Karl told more of his stories to the kids and they listened. Karl had lost his wife Elena in the big war. When Karl and Elena had first met, he had gone to see her play the piano in a concert hall. Elena was a wonderful musician, and wrote lots of beautiful music over the years when they were first married.

  When Karl came to Ireland during the war, he had to leave all his things behind, including all the books and sheets of music that his wife had written. He had none of Elena’s music with him now. The only thing he had were his memories.

  Karl told the kids that one day, a few months after arriving in Dublin, he had been out walking on the beach, and he heard the sound of a bottle clinking up against a rock. Then he heard another sound, and another and another, and it reminded him so much of the music that Elena used to play on her piano.

  Elena’s favourite place to write music had always been by the sea. She composed many songs and pieces of music while watching the waves back in her own country.

  Karl believed that maybe the sea itself had captured a little bit of Elena’s music and held on to it, like a memory. It had carried her music across the sea to Ireland for him to hear!

  He had the idea that he would collect all the bits of glass that washed up. Perhaps the sea had trapped a little bit of Elena’s music in each piece of glass. Every day he would take the bottles back to the warehouse, tie them up on a string, hanging from the beam. He would play them with a stick, each one with a different sound, and listen to the notes they made. They reminded him of Elena.

  It was getting on for teatime, and time for the kids to go. Karl said goodbye to his guests, and gave each of them a bottle he had collected. Aoife and Eoin turned it in to the corner shop for sweets, but Séamus decided he would keep it as a present for his Mam, when he went home to Cork the next month.

  And do you know what, when he gave it to his Mam, she loved it. She put it up on the mantelpiece where it could catch the light from the window. She loved the way the blue colour danced around the room, a bit like the sea.

  ‘It cheers me up,’ she’d say to Séamus and she’d smile.

  Now loads of those kids who were around in the time of Mr Shh Shh (who we now know was called Karl), are all grown up. Some of them even have kids and grandkids of their own. Some have moved away to other places but a few of them still live down by Irishtown and Ringsend.

  Some of them still go out walking still with their own dogs, down near where the Glass Bottle Factory used to be. If you’re down by there yourself, out for a walk, you might see a person or two or three standing with their eyes closed, facing out to the sea. You might say hello to them, and of course they might say hello back.

  But if one of them turns around to you and goes, ‘Shh, Shh’, please don’t be offended. They might just be taking a break to listen to the music that’s captured by the sea.

  4

  The Little Flower

  There was once a great chieftain called the O’Brinn. He was from Wicklow but lived in a town to the west over in Dublin called Chapelizod.

  The O’Brinn was a powerful man, but sometimes power and wealth attracts jealousy from others. The O’Brinn lived with his wife and their daughter, Eibhleen. Everyone in the village loved Eibhleen, and often you’d hear them say what a smart and beautiful girl she was. She loved her Mam and Dad very much. Her parents liked to call Eibhleen their ‘little flower’ as she was so precious to both of them.

  To the east of where they lived was an area called Castleknock. You’d probably guess it from the name, but Castleknock had a castle in it.

  In that castle lived a man called Hugh Tyrrell. He was first Baron of Castleknock. He was a good man, easy to get along with, and quite fair as a ruler. One day, he was called away from the castle to attend an important meeting. He had to travel far for this meeting and he ended up being away from home for much longer than he thought.

  Now, while he was away, didn’t his brother Roger Tyrrell jump at the chance to take over the castle! Roger was very different from his brother Hugh. In fact Roger was cruel and mean and liked to be horrible to people. He took what he wanted, whenever he wanted and without asking. He was generally all-around nasty!

  One summer’s evening, he decided he would take his men and go on a raid – just for fun! He rode his horses over to Chapelizod, and when night fell, didn’t himself and his men sneak in, kidnap Eibhleen O’Brinn, and take her back to Castleknock Castle with them!

  Eibhleen was fighting with him all the way back, but it was no use, there were too many men guarding her, and she couldn’t escape no matter how hard she tried.

  Back at Castleknock Castle, Roger locked Eibhleen in a tower, and told her he would be back for her the next morning, and then she would have to marry him!

  Now the last thing Eibhleen wanted to do was to marry someone like nasty old Roger. Inside the tower, she looked around, searching for a way out. But it was no use, there was no means to escape. The windows were too small and too high to fit a whole person through them. You could only just about fit one arm through the gap in the stone. There was only one door, and it was locked securely. Roger Tyrrell had even put a guard at the bottom of the winding stair to make sure any prisoners stayed put.

  Eibhleen was well and truly trapped!

  All day Eibhleen sat in the tower, thinking about what would happen to her once she was married to Roger. She would no longer be free, she would have to live wherever nasty Roger her husband-to-be commanded (for that was the way at the time)! And she would generally be miserable all round.
r />   As the night went on, Eibhleen heard voices at the bottom of the stairs. It was the guards. She heard them talking about the wedding that would happen in the morning, and how they were ordered to take her from the tower directly to Roger at sunrise. They were laughing away to themselves at the whole idea of her being married off to Roger Tyrrell. There was no escaping it!

  The minutes ticked into hours and poor Eibhleen was very sad.

  Then, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Eibhleen heard a whisper from outside the tiny window. ‘Eibhleen,’ said the voice. ‘It is our turn now to help you!’

  There, outside below, growing against the castle wall, was a beautiful cluster of white flowers – that was where the voice was coming from!

  ‘Listen carefully,’ said the flowers. ‘We can help you escape, but it will come with a price.’

  ‘I will pay any price,’ said Eibhleen, ‘once I am free from this place and can live in peace once more with my family.’

  ‘Very well,’ whispered the flowers. ‘The price to pay is that you must shed your human form. Listen carefully and do exactly as we bid you, and you shall be free once more.’

  Eibhleen listened to the instructions, and was a little frightened at the thought, but knew it was her only hope.

  She had a vision of her Mam and Dad talking to her, smiling at her, calling her their ‘little flower’.

  Eibhleen reached down and unfastened the brooch from her dress. It was her favourite piece of jewellery; one her mother had given her on her seventeenth birthday. It was a cluster of rubies set in gold, and it looked just like a beautiful bouquet of red flowers.

  She walked over to the window. As she leaned in enough she could just about see the ground below where there were hundreds of white flowers growing beside the castle wall.

  ‘Let us help you …’ they whispered.

  Eibhleen could hear the footsteps of the guards on the stairs – it was time to put the plan in action!

  She quickly made a wish, took the pin of her brooch, and with it she pricked her finger. Ouch! She watched as a tiny red bump appeared. Eibhleen reached her arm through the narrow window and let it hang down the side of the castle wall.

  She could hear the guards fumbling for their keys outside the door!

  Drip!

  A tiny drop of blood fell from her fingertip and landed on to the white flowers below.

  The guards outside had put the key in the lock!

  Drip!

  A second drop fell from her finger.

  The key turned in the lock.

  ‘Oh please hurry,’ thought Eibhleen, and she squeezed her finger and –

  Drip!

  A third drop fell onto the white flowers below just as the door swung open and in marched the guards.

  But inside there was no Eibhleen to be found! There was no one to marry the evil Roger that day. All they found was a ruby and gold brooch lying on the ground, and on its pin was a tiny drop of blood.

  Tyrrell’s men searched high and low but there was no trace of their captive, and nobody could explain how she got away. As they left the tower, they walked past a single cluster of beautiful red flowers, growing there amid the white ones.

  ‘’Tis a pity the maiden has escaped,’ said one guard. ‘What fine flowers they would have been for a wedding bouquet …’

  Now Eibhleen’s father, The O’Brinn, had also been away for some nights, and when he returned and heard of his daughter’s capture, he was full of anger and sadness. The next night, he and his army attacked Castleknock Castle and defeated Roger Tyrrell and his men, killing them all as the clock struck midnight.

  Alas, his beloved daughter was gone without a trace, or so he thought.

  As he was leaving to go home to Chapelizod, The O’Brinn noticed the beautiful patch of red flowers growing by the castle wall. They reminded him of his daughter, and he walked over to them.

  No sooner had he kneeled down to look at the red blooms, didn’t they whisper to him, ‘Oh Father dear, I am so glad to see you!’

  The chieftain rubbed a tear from his eye as he realised that this was no ordinary gift of nature. This was indeed his daughter. In order to escape her captors she had shed her human form and had taken the form of a flower!

  He took out his pouch and gently dug up the flowers and took them back to his people. He planted Eibhleen in pride of place, where she could live in peace with her clan. In winter she would sleep in the earth, but each spring she would always return in full bloom. She would whisper the secrets of the earth to her beloved family, and they would water and nurture her, their Eibhleen; their own little flower.

  Each year, even to this day, there blooms a bunch of beautiful red flowers, growing free and sparkling in the air with the brightness of a thousand rubies!

  5

  The Dark Hole

  If you like hearing Irish stories, you’ll probably hear trees mentioned in them a fair bit. Even in this book perhaps! The reason for this is that trees (and the magic that surrounds them) play an important part in the old stories of our lands.

  In the olden days of Ireland, it was even written into the law itself that if you felled certain trees without permission, you would be punished. Some trees were considered so important, that the punishment for chopping one down could even be death!

  Now if a tree is uprooted suddenly, be it a fairy tree or even a ‘regular’ tree, it will of course leave a big hole in the ground. Physically, this hole is where the tree itself grew, where the trunk sat, and where the roots spread down into the earth. But there is also something else at play. In some cases, left behind was the magical space that the tree once occupied – a dark hole.

  If this dark hole was not properly managed, and the tree had been taken unfairly, it could attract all sorts of creatures and spirits who would make the dark hole their own. Sometimes they could use it to serve their wishes and even take revenge on mortals.

  In Dublin, on the north bank of the River Liffey, is a place known as the King’s Inns. It is Ireland’s oldest law school. It is built on a very old piece of land, and on this land was one of the dark holes that I mention.

  A fairy tree was uprooted on this land in ancient times, and a dark hole was left behind. It wasn’t long before the dark hole attracted a new resident – a dark, wild and hungry spirit!

  Now, people did their best to keep the dark spirit at bay, but it was very powerful. Every fifty years or so, the ground would rumble with the horrible humming of the creature, as it would seek to feed on human flesh!

  It is said that the creature would emit a sound from deep in the dark hole; a sound that would hypnotise any young man who happened to be passing. Within a week, the young man would find a young woman, and, still under the spell of the creature, would bring her to the place where she was to meet her horrible fate.

  The creature would then rise up out of the dark hole and swallow the innocent young woman in a single bite, taking her down beneath the earth. The young man would be left dazed and would remember nothing of the encounter, but live the rest of his days with a terrible ache in his heart.

  Well, a few hundred years ago, near the King’s Inns, there lived a girl called Cathleen. She was sweet and kind, and had a quick mind.

  Her father was also a kind man. He was a gardener at the Inns, just like his own father before him. It is said that all their family had a ‘green finger’ – that means people who are good with plants and gardening – but with this family, it also meant that they were favoured by the fairy folk. In fact sometimes members of the family were given magical gifts in return for tending the trees and flowers.

  Before Cathleen’s granddad died, he gave her a little leather pouch on a string.

  ‘Now promise me,’ he said, ‘you’ll always wear that around your neck. In your time of darkest trouble, it will be very useful to you.’

  ‘Don’t worry Granda,’ said Cathleen, ‘I promise, so I do.’

  Now of course Cathleen was curious, and once or tw
ice she dared to peek into the little pouch. Inside all she saw was what looked like a pile of seeds, nothing more. But she’d made a promise to her granddad, so she wore the pouch around her neck day in and day out.

  One day, wasn’t Cathleen out walking near the King’s Inns when she passed by a man called Matthew standing there. Matthew was himself a fine young man studying at the Inns. The minute he saw Cathleen, his face lit up. He knew he had to get to know her better, so he approached her and started a conversation. I have to tell you, as soon as he came over, didn’t her face light up too, and there was a great spark between them.

  Each day, they would meet and walk together, talking about the ways of the world, their families and friends. Talking, in fact, about anything that came into their heads.

  The important thing is that they were talking to each other.

  Now this is all a lovely picture, but what of the darkness we spoke of earlier? Well, do you know what, things had been quiet and settled for many years – almost fifty years to the day in fact, since the dark hole rumbled. Now fifty years is a long enough time, and if people don’t keep telling stories of what went before, it’s easy enough to forget dark happenings of the past.

  But you and I know about the tree that was felled. You and I know about the dark hole that was left, and you and I know too that fifty years had passed, and that meant the great hunger for revenge was coming again, and very soon!

  This particular evening Matthew was walking in the grounds of the King’s Inns, when he thought he heard a rumbling sound. Next thing he felt his head fill with a dark ‘whoooooossssh’, and his mind was emptied of all his thoughts.

  The next day Cathleen was due to meet him for their usual walk. He was late. This was unusual, but she didn’t think too much of it. Perhaps he was delayed in his studying?

  After an hour or so, he finally arrived.

  ‘I can’t walk with you today, Cathleen,’ he said, ‘I have other things on my mind.’ Matthew’s face was pale as the moon, and his eyes had a strange look to them. It was as if they were made of ice.