The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1862-08-29
THE HEADLEss HORsEkAN OF
SHANACLOCH.
A LEGEND OF IRELAND.


ber when the floodgates of heaven pour
their torrents, the winds rush angrily ,hro'
the heavens, and the ligh.nings glance
along the air, that social and happy cir,
Gle formed round the hospitable hearth of
Tom Cahil, of Shanacloch. Though the
raflers cracked in the weight of the savage
wind, and the lofty ash trees that rose
amid the ruins of the adjacent caste,
groaned to the elemental war, and the
echoes of the neig ghboriug cliffs bore to our
ear the hollow roaring of the foaming
Bride, yet happy in the contemplation Of
our exemption from the storm, and enliv>
ened by the much loved strains Of Jack
Piggot, the purblnd piper, we turned a
deaf ear to natures present fit of i'll humor.
The servants, doD este and outward, were
footing it lightly to the music of the pipes
IN the kitchen. Jack, seated in the broad
chimney corner, had already guphed down
five good tumblers of punch. made in the
parlor bv Mrs Cahil's own hand. Tom,
maugre his alderman-lik rotundity of
belly, was jigging it among the youngsters.
The stacks -ere we'll secured, the barns
repenished, the snug mansion afforded
bed for friend, and keg of whiskey,
pot, eli, or parliament, as the case may be
the rent was paid, aud the house we'll
thatched-in short we may say with
Burns,
"The storm without might rair and rustic,
Tam did ma mind the storm a whistle"
Perhaps the gentle reader would grant
me A moments indul gence, while | intro
duce Shanacloeh to his notice. Tom Ca
hil's snug residence is situated on the bank
of the winding river Bride, between Rath
cormac and G!envilIe. The farm takes
its name from the ruins of an old castle
which defended the possessions of the Bar.
rvs in this quarter. This ruined castle,
like almost all others in Ireland, has many
tales Of superstition connected with 1t. 1t
was a strong, square building, and its
brave garrison made noble defence, TIL
At length it was taken by tre~chery, and
its defenders murdered in cold blood
The extraordinary breadth of the massive
walls has enabled the edifice to partially
resist the assaults of time, who has at
length fuhg- a green mantle of shelterlng
ivy over the ruin, AS If ANXIOUS to pre-
serve it from the storm of ages. But the
hand of man has effected wide diIapida-
tions-the instruments of war have level.
led its front to the dust and am sorry to
record that the vandalism of my friend
Tom Cahil has beeh busy with the rest,
sacrilege which will not be forgiven by
me, either in this world or in the world
to come.
At Shanacloch, the duties Of that love-
iest of misunderstanding well OBJ
served To its well known mansion the
homeless wanderer turns his weary feet,
certain of receiving food and shelter; the
house never lacked n train of stroIiers
out myself and Piggot, the piper, were the
most frequent visitors. BY some strange
coincidence we generally came to Shana-
cloch at the same time, and it was re-
mark, that when your humble servant
gave the I" God save all here" blind Pig
got was not far behind. Piggot's features
were cast in natures coarsest mould but
when he tuned his pipes to cne of his Irish
airs, the expression of benevolence and
calm delight on lis misshapen face was
truly interesting. Jacks music, indeed,
had a powerful effect upon those who
heard his strain. My heart has throbl ed
and my eyes swan in tears, as he poured
the full tide of The billowy air, Gosh ma
breeGa, on my raptured ear aud when be
struck up one of the martial tunes by
which the minstrel of the Cden day rous
ed the clansmen to war and glory, | have
seen the rude peasants who hung upon the
strain, start forward with a wild shout,an
flourish their sticks in the air My chief
motive for these frequent visits was to
hear Piggot's matchless music, and CLEAN
Legendary lore from Biddy Moylan, an
ancient retainer of the Shanacloch family.
God bless u.s. said BidGy Moylan,
from her straw bottomed chair in the cor
ner, "what a dreadful hour it is at sea
Ibis wild hour will leave many fatheress
children after it. Jack Piggot, drop that
music, and lei us all pray for the souls of
the poor sal .ors tha, are this blessed minute
sinking under the waves, TO make food for
fishes
Don't you know, Biddy," said Jack,
aying his chanfer horizontally across his
knees, that music often calmed storm
and that when the wicked one had Paddy
Barry in 10 the hoult of the Devils Cave,
when he played up the 'Graces instead
OF the wicked tune the wicked company
asked for, their spells were broken, and
poor Paddy set at liberty"
Enough is as good as feast" rejoined
the old woman, "and too much of one
thing is good tol nothing. ltwas cosher
ing and dancing they were, when Marcach
ma ShaaacIoch gave his last visit lie mu
sic drowned bis voice, and honest people
lost their good luck"
AsI was great fayorite OF old Bird
gets, upon expressing a wish to hear The
/" Legend of the Horseman." she kindly
compiled. The dancing ceased and the
pipes were baggei. After Biddy MoyIan
| had struck the ashes from her dhudeen,
and Jack Piggot called out "'tention," !"
she thus began:
Long and merry ago, when Shemish-
a cocoa, hat lost old Ireland, bad cess TO
bin, was fighting with some Oraneemen,
or other, that came from England, with
| an army To destroy The Catholics Shana