Before we go south from the province of Connemara to County Kerry, there is the largest lake within the Republic of
Ireland and the second largest on the island of Ireland to take a look at. Lough Corrib covers over 109 square miles
and empties into a river with the same name through the city of Galway and on into the Atlantic Ocean.
Oughterard is small community that straddles the N59 highway from Galway to Clifden and the on the banks of the
Owenriff River, another tributary that flows into the Corrib from Lough Agraffard. Like many towns around the huge
expanse of the multi-island Lough Corrib, Oughterard enjoys old tales regarding lake monsters and their ruinous
interactions with humans. This particular nasty visitor is described as a water-horse or Aughisky, the Irish locution
meaning eel or serpent.
Archaeologist, geologist and Folklorist George Henry tells in his 1881 book of a creature that inhabits Lough Corrib,
but occasionally utilised the 371 acres of boggy rough pasture titled Lemonfield Bog between its watery lair and
Oughterard to assuage its nightly hunger. Described as having a serpent’s body and a horse’s head, this monster
would visit Kilcummin church and dig up corpses of the freshly buried in the graveyard for a midnight feast.
The Aughisky and Kilcummin church.
But like all good yarns, this grisly ingesting needed to be stopped and it took the brother of a recently deceased
sister to bring the sickening grave-raiding to an end. Aware of the swampy channels in Lemonfield Bog that the
wily horse-eel used to travel to Kilcummin church, the young man from the Lee family waited and watched over
the grave of his sibling.
As the creature slithered between the ancient leaning tombstones with girl-meat on its mind, the lionhearted man
of Oughterard launched his attack with such ruthlessness, that the horse-eel's blood spattered across the church
wall and the stain can be seen to this day. Needless to say, the evil eater of the dead was vanquished and all
that remains are the discoloured blemishes on the old bethel's wall and the unusual furrow-like tracks through
Lemonfield Bog
................................
Alas, the notion of a corpse-eating monster roaming the night is too good of a motive to not be used for purposes
of warning children to stay in their beds and collector of old tales Biddy O' Callaghan found many versions of the
one above. It's a slightly confusing legend, but stays well in the lines of the formula.
In Biddy O' Callaghan's gathered account, she states the beast-slayer was from Glann, a plave possibly referring
to Ballygally Glann. Ballygally is in the civil parish of Kilcummin and also resides beside Lough Corrib.
With their mother passing away and being laid to rest in the old kirk of Kilcummin, her two sons drew lots to keep
watch over her grave from the beast's ravenousness. With the youngest of the males being designated by the fates,
the darkness of Kilcummin church accompanied the sword-carrying youngster to where his late-mother was interred
and it wasn't long before the water-horse came a-calling.
Slicing the monster in two, the son was shocked when the creature writhed and demanded to be struck again.
Realising the cemetary was a setting of such supernatural, he refused the request and fled the harrowing scene.
Nearing his horse, a spectral woman in white suddenly appeared and mounted behind the frightened teenager
and then vanished when he reached his home.
That very night, the youngest of the brothers who had dared to keep his mother's body from being food for the
Aughisky, mysteriously died in his sleep. The location where the ghostly gal took to the saddle was later named
as 'Puca’s Bridge', referring to Irish mischievous fairies.
................................
The muse and wife of Irish author James Joyce, Nora Barnacle offered a similar version of the engagement with
the corpse-eating horse-eel. The tune remains the same, but with a little guilt thrown in for good measure.
In her account, the fickle finger of fortune fell to the married son of the bereaved family to stand guard over their
mother's grave.
However, the youngest brother -being a single man, said he would go in his sibling's place to Kilcummin church
and thwart the monster's hunger. Hearing a whistling indicative of the slithering serpent, from Lough Corrib drew
his sword and waited for the encounter. Just as his nemesis began to snuffle through the soil in search of its
supper, the terrified bachelor halved the horse-eel, refused the beast's plea for another strike and then took to
his heels towards his steed.
Once more as he passed a bridge, a little woman in white leapt on the back of his horse and stayed there until
the odd pair reached home. Again, the man was dead by morning, except his horse bought the farm too. Nora
Joyce also mentioned that the blood of the serpent could be seen on the stonework and one of the windows of
Kilcummin Church until the stained masonry was allegedly take to Dublin.
Ireland and the second largest on the island of Ireland to take a look at. Lough Corrib covers over 109 square miles
and empties into a river with the same name through the city of Galway and on into the Atlantic Ocean.
Oughterard is small community that straddles the N59 highway from Galway to Clifden and the on the banks of the
Owenriff River, another tributary that flows into the Corrib from Lough Agraffard. Like many towns around the huge
expanse of the multi-island Lough Corrib, Oughterard enjoys old tales regarding lake monsters and their ruinous
interactions with humans. This particular nasty visitor is described as a water-horse or Aughisky, the Irish locution
meaning eel or serpent.
Archaeologist, geologist and Folklorist George Henry tells in his 1881 book of a creature that inhabits Lough Corrib,
but occasionally utilised the 371 acres of boggy rough pasture titled Lemonfield Bog between its watery lair and
Oughterard to assuage its nightly hunger. Described as having a serpent’s body and a horse’s head, this monster
would visit Kilcummin church and dig up corpses of the freshly buried in the graveyard for a midnight feast.
The Aughisky and Kilcummin church.
But like all good yarns, this grisly ingesting needed to be stopped and it took the brother of a recently deceased
sister to bring the sickening grave-raiding to an end. Aware of the swampy channels in Lemonfield Bog that the
wily horse-eel used to travel to Kilcummin church, the young man from the Lee family waited and watched over
the grave of his sibling.
As the creature slithered between the ancient leaning tombstones with girl-meat on its mind, the lionhearted man
of Oughterard launched his attack with such ruthlessness, that the horse-eel's blood spattered across the church
wall and the stain can be seen to this day. Needless to say, the evil eater of the dead was vanquished and all
that remains are the discoloured blemishes on the old bethel's wall and the unusual furrow-like tracks through
Lemonfield Bog
................................
Alas, the notion of a corpse-eating monster roaming the night is too good of a motive to not be used for purposes
of warning children to stay in their beds and collector of old tales Biddy O' Callaghan found many versions of the
one above. It's a slightly confusing legend, but stays well in the lines of the formula.
In Biddy O' Callaghan's gathered account, she states the beast-slayer was from Glann, a plave possibly referring
to Ballygally Glann. Ballygally is in the civil parish of Kilcummin and also resides beside Lough Corrib.
With their mother passing away and being laid to rest in the old kirk of Kilcummin, her two sons drew lots to keep
watch over her grave from the beast's ravenousness. With the youngest of the males being designated by the fates,
the darkness of Kilcummin church accompanied the sword-carrying youngster to where his late-mother was interred
and it wasn't long before the water-horse came a-calling.
Slicing the monster in two, the son was shocked when the creature writhed and demanded to be struck again.
Realising the cemetary was a setting of such supernatural, he refused the request and fled the harrowing scene.
Nearing his horse, a spectral woman in white suddenly appeared and mounted behind the frightened teenager
and then vanished when he reached his home.
That very night, the youngest of the brothers who had dared to keep his mother's body from being food for the
Aughisky, mysteriously died in his sleep. The location where the ghostly gal took to the saddle was later named
as 'Puca’s Bridge', referring to Irish mischievous fairies.
................................
The muse and wife of Irish author James Joyce, Nora Barnacle offered a similar version of the engagement with
the corpse-eating horse-eel. The tune remains the same, but with a little guilt thrown in for good measure.
In her account, the fickle finger of fortune fell to the married son of the bereaved family to stand guard over their
mother's grave.
However, the youngest brother -being a single man, said he would go in his sibling's place to Kilcummin church
and thwart the monster's hunger. Hearing a whistling indicative of the slithering serpent, from Lough Corrib drew
his sword and waited for the encounter. Just as his nemesis began to snuffle through the soil in search of its
supper, the terrified bachelor halved the horse-eel, refused the beast's plea for another strike and then took to
his heels towards his steed.
Once more as he passed a bridge, a little woman in white leapt on the back of his horse and stayed there until
the odd pair reached home. Again, the man was dead by morning, except his horse bought the farm too. Nora
Joyce also mentioned that the blood of the serpent could be seen on the stonework and one of the windows of
Kilcummin Church until the stained masonry was allegedly take to Dublin.
Read The TV Guide, yer' don't need a TV.