Irish Vernacular Cottage. Part Two.

Vernacular Cottages Part Two.

Beds:

Beds varied in design from a basic wooden box type structure with a straw mattress to other more elaborate set ups. Irish country life was and is built around the family and it was considered normal for a son or daughter to get married and share a house with elderly parents, who invariable slept in the warmest place. This was usually next to the hearth or fireplace and was known as the ‘Outshot’ or ‘Cailleach’ (See previous post).

There may also have been a ‘Settle Bed’, this was a very clever contraption for during the day it acted a a seat and at night it could be folded down to act as a bed. It was usually made by a local carpenter and could be any size you wished in order to accommodate family members. In the old cottages it may also have been used to accommodate the casual visitor (if not required by the family). Part of the folklore mentions that people used to regularly wash down the wooden frames with lime wash to aid in the prevention of diseases such as cholera. Don’t forget that in Ireland it was common to keep a burning lamp or candle in the window to guide wayward travellers. In many ways the old settle bed was the forerunner of the modern bed settee.

The Dresser:

The dresser was and probably still is one of the most important bits of domestic furniture as it was used to display the wealth and status of the household. The upper section would be used to display the ceramics (we use ours for blue and white willow pattern) and mementos. There are normally two drawers under which there will be two cupboards. The dresser was a great place for storage (still is) and was used for pots and pans and butter making utensils. A variation that you don’t see in the cottage anymore (thank the god’s, because of the smell) was the coop dresser, which used the bottom compartments to house chickens. This warm and safe environment ensured that eggs were always available throughout the year. Having the hens inside meant that you always knew where the eggs were when the hens had finished laying. This also prevented the hens laying in the hedgerows or up in the thatch of the roof and it also stopped arguments with your neighbours over whose chicken the egg belonged to. Chicken coops of this type were first noted in the inventories of the large country houses of the 17th and 18th century.

The Fireplace and the Fire Crane:

The fireplace was and still is the heart and soul of the cottage. It is a place where people gather and where life revolves. A place for reading, sewing, heat, and story telling. The focal point of the cottage. The fire was never allowed to go out, ashes were spread over the embers to “keep them in” until the morning. There is an old saying in Irish, “Nil aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin”, translated it means “There is no fire like your own fire” and in a way this illustrates the importance we place on the hearth. On the interior wall of the Inglenook firplace we used to have hung the Fire Crane, this was an ingenious method that was used to suspend cooking pots over the open fire. We still have ours (it’s in one of the barns), no longer used in modern cottages as we have replaced the open fire with a wood burning stove. Cottages today have Stanley Ranges (you may call them an AGA?) and modern cooking facilities.

The Butter Churn:

Every cottage in the country would have had its own butter churn and these would be of various designs. Here are the two most common ones.

The Dash Churn:

This was a common type which was very strong and made in a conical shape with a splayed neck into which a lid was fitted. The cream was then agitated by a wooden dash provided with a long handle which passed through a hole in the centre of the lid.

The Cylinder Churn:

In this smaller churn the cream was agitated by a wooden frame by turning a crank handle. When it was first introduced it immediately became popular with the domestic family. It had a limited capacity so was not really suitable for use by the larger farmer who may have been involved in the production of butter for sale. Our cylinder churn now sits on the top of one of the kitchen presses (cupboards) and serves an ornamental purpose.

When churning butter everyone was expected to take a turn, a refusal would bring down a curse from the fairie folk and great misfortune on the poor unfortunate who refused.

The manufacture of these churns was carried out by the local cooper (barrel maker).

1st image Coop Dresser.
2nd image Bed Settle.
3rd image Fire Crane.
4th image Cylinder Churn.
5th image Dash Churn.

Vernacular (traditional) Irish Cottage. Part One.

The Vernacular house in Ireland.

The vernacular houses of the north, southern and west of Ireland were almost always single storied although in some places a second storey may have been added in more prosperous times. This would have been more common in the east and the midlands. Even in the villages and towns, the single storied cottage often lined the streets, and a few of these early, traditional houses although rare still survive. The small single storey house with a thatched roof remained the dwelling of the ordinary family.

The traditional house of the remote west was moulded by the rugged landscape and the ferocity of the Atlantic weather. Rectangular, narrow and just one room deep, the narrow plan was mainly due to the scarcity of timbers for roofing and since only relatively thin poles or timbers salvaged from the ocean and sea shore were available, the roof spans were small. The cottages hug the landscape and seem to be part of it. Thatched roofs held down by ropes tied to pegs which are hammered into the walls or tied to heavy stones to protect them from the fierce Atlantic winds. These days a lot of the old thatched roofs have been replaced with slate.

A feature of the vernacular cottage in the North West and west of Ireland is the outshot bed; this is where a projection in the wall next to the hearth/fireplace would accommodate a small bed which was further protected from draught by a curtain. It was here that the Grandmother would sleep and here she would be snug and warm. In Mayo we call this the “Cailleach”, not a very flattering term as it means Old hag (don’t blame me). This bed was beneficial in other ways for if the older member of the family became bedridden they could still play an important role in the social and domestic fabric of the household. We should remember that their advice and skills were invaluable and they generally possessed a treasure trove of stories, an art that sadly is fast disappearing in the age of technology. Also and in some ways more importantly it showed them that they still mattered, they were still loved.

The vernacular cottage was always built of rough stone or stone and mud and in later years they would be lime-washed or plastered and then lime-washed (also known as white-wash) and they stood out against the backdrop of the landscape.

It was common for the back door to be opposite the front door and this made it easier to sweep the floor in windy weather (you opened the door on the calm side). The front door was usually a half door and this had the advantage of allowing in more daylight into the large central living room and also kept the animals out (farmyard and poultry). It also allowed conversation with passers-by.

Windows were small and of the up and down sash type with wide interior sills due to the thickness of the walls.

Early cottages did not have any foundations and the floors are usually finished in rammed earth, slate or stone flag, or tiles. These days it is common to find cement or concrete floors with a floating floor of timber unless you have been extremely lucky and have managed to find one with the original flagged floor.

The main fireplace in the central room is large and open of the inglenook type with a large stone or timber lintel, usually a ships timber salvaged from the sea shore. Today it is usual to find a wood stove set in the opening but it would have had an open fire over which you would swing a fire crane, on this you would hang an iron cooking pot or kettle.

On either side of the large central room there would have been larger rooms. In our cottage we have divided one of these into two bedrooms with independent doors. All these rooms have open fires although there is also the addition of modern day central heating throughout. We have the addition of a small extension which serves as a galley kitchen and a further small extension that serves as a shower room and toilet room.

Most vernacular cottages were built into the landscape, usually protected by a hill or some other natural feature, although groundwater running down the hill inevitably led to damp.

These types of cottages are fast disappearing from the Irish country side as more and more people buy them only for the site they sit on, They then knock them down only to build a modern style house. Now I’ve nothing against freedom of choice (how on earth do some of these monstrosities get planning permission?). However, I do believe that our cottage has character, an old world charm, it has soul representing our history and heritage and it doesn’t intrude on the landscape like some of those modern Spanish style mansions built not as homes but as B&Bs where the kids are put in the garage or loft for the holiday season as their rooms are worth euro’s (I’m not suggesting their all like that).

I will be fair though and say that in times gone by our ancestors must have looked out of their round houses and thought “How on earth did they get planning permission?”

Finally, one thing I have noticed about the type of people who buy and renovate these old cottages to live in. They are all quite similar (the ones I know anyway). They love their cottages, the heritage and history, the character and quirkiness. They usually grow their own or love organic gardening and are environmentally aware. I don’t intend to generalise and if you own and live in a vernacular cottage and are totally opposite to those I have described than “No offence intended”.

I will add a couple more posts that will cover the folklore of the Irish cottage and some of the artefacts that would have been used in days gone by so I hope that like me it may give you an insight into a dying tradition.

The bottom image is of our cottage in County Mayo.

Irish Caves. The Cave of The Seven Sisters.

Irish Caves.

The ‘Irish Cave Archaeology Project’ is prompted by finds already made, including human bones ranging from small body parts to full skeletons of men, women and children; jewellery made from shell, amber and bone; the remains of sacrificed newborn calves, lambs and piglets. Folklore traditions reveal that caves were seen as places of ghosts and ghouls, gateways to the Otherworld or a home for a supernatural woman that preyed on mortal men.

With uses varying from burial chambers to places to live, caves in Ireland have a diverse history and usage. ‘People have been using caves around Ireland for almost 10,000 years. In the 19th and 20th centuries, some were documented by antiquarians looking for bones of extinct animals such as woolly mammoth, bears and Arctic lemmings. They also turned up human bones and artifact’s many of archaeological significance. More recently, cavers have discovered and explored caves all over the country. These caves open up for us a cultural, religious and physical history dating back through prehistoric, medieval and modern times.’

Evidence indicates that for about 8,000 years, caves were used mostly for religious activities. These deep dark, often sacred, places were associated with death and the ‘Otherworld’. They were used for excarnation, where a corpse was left to fully decompose prior to the bones being removed for burial. Often small bones and beads were left behind, to be found thousands of years later. Caves were also used for burial, with extensive finds already documented in Co Waterford. During the Bronze Age, caves were used for burying high ranking individuals. In 1805, a skeleton covered in small sheets of gold was discovered in a cave in Co Cork. Burial traditions with offerings continued into the Iron Age. At caves in Co Sligo, human teeth were placed in the caves, possibly associated with the annual harvest festival of Lughnasa.

The coming of Christianity to Ireland in the 5th century AD saw major changes in how caves were used and perceived. For the first time, there was extensive occupation of caves, as they became home to individuals, possibly travelling laborers or craft workers. It is likely that the association between caves and death and the Otherworld was largely destroyed by the Church.


The Cave of the Seven Sisters:

The origin of the following tale is to be found in the small village of Ballybunion a few miles from Kerry Head. The cliffs rise up from the sea to heights well over a hundred feet and these are peppered with caves into which the sea rushes with a terrible fury in winter. This coast line is open to the full force of the Atlantic storms and it was usual to find the dead bodies of various unfortunate creatures washed up on the shore.

On the edge of one of these cliffs there stands the ruin of a castle. All that remains of it now is the basement standing against the force of the wind and waves like some lonely sentinel.

According to local legend, this castle was the home of a chieftain around about the time of the invasions by the Vikings. He was the father of seven beautiful daughters, a brave warrior with a great hatred of those who would invade his land. He seemed to always have his sword in his hand and night and day his ships patrolled the coast watching for any sign of the piratical Vikings who might threaten his people.

There came a day when a sail was spotted in the distance and as it came nearer the chieftain saw the vessel displayed the standard of a Viking marauder. Immediately it was surrounded by the Irish ships and despite putting up a fierce fight it was captured. As was the custom of the chieftain, he had the crew that had survived the initial attack killed and thrown overboard with the exception of the captain and his six brothers as he had a special more painful death planned for them.

They were brought to the castle and there they had their wounds dressed and as they had no way to escape they were allowed freedom within the castle walls. Of course the seven captured men soon spotted the seven beautiful Irish maidens and as they were starved of male affection they soon fell under the spell of the Vikings and agreed to aid their escape and run off to the Viking homeland.

All was set, a stormy night in winter was chosen, and there was not a star in the sky. A cold wind blew in from the sea bringing with it a torrential rain, the waves crashed against amidst the caves below. Using a rope ladder they escaped over the battlements and down to the ground but when they had all descended to their horror they were surrounded by armed men who had been hiding amongst the rocks.

No one said a word, they knew it was hopeless for it was obvious who these armed warriors were. Taken back into the castle they came face to face with the chieftain. With a look of anger and hatred he pointed to his seven daughters and gave a command to his captain of the guard. The man recoiled in disbelief his face had a look of horror, recovering, he whispered in the ear of his chieftain but the face of the chieftain told all there that his order would not be changed and with a look of hatred he repeated the order turned to the door and stormed out of the room without a backward glance.

Now we come to a fearful scene. The lovers were wrenched from each other’s arms and the daughters were dragged forward. The storm had grown more violent and the waves were crashing against the rocks. Sea spray was carried over the top of the castle walls; lightning flashed and by its light a scene of pure horror was illuminated. Dragging the women along the edge of the precipice the warriors came to a chasm which resembled the crater of a volcano as it was completely closed with the exception of the opening at the top and a hole below through which the sea rushed in with terrific force and violence. The roaring of the sea was fearful and the lightning flashed and it was now that the seven sisters realised their fate. There could be no escape, screaming and begging for mercy they were hurled into the boiling seas. Their father’s orders carried out.

What happened to the seven Vikings is not known, the legend is not for them. Eventually, over time the castle fell into ruin. As for the chieftain? well he sleeps in an unknown grave his name forgotten, but the legend of The Seven Sisters remains. The cave is now known locally as The Cave of The Seven Sisters.

On a stormy night you can still hear their screams and as you look out over the seas you may see the outline of a ghost ship as seven lovers search the waves.

Hope you enjoyed the tale.

I'm going away for the weekend so I hope the weather keeps fine for you all and I will return on Sunday with tales anew. Keep safe, Keep happy and Keep smiling.

1739-40 Arctic Ireland. Our little ice age and The Forgotten Famine.

Bad weather hits Ireland.

Modern Ireland has experienced two of the greatest famines in European history. Everyone has heard of The Great Famine of 1845-1850 and its place in the annals of history is forever secured. The other famine, that of 1740-41 although more intense and infinitely more deadly has become known as The Forgotten Famine, and although often attributed to “natural causes” a closer look reveals the suffering could have been alleviated.

On the last day of 1739, Ireland awoke to find itself in the grip of a mini Ice Age. Rivers froze, mills seized up, and houses could not be heated above freezing point. Some people were enchanted by the novelty of it all. Carnivals, dances and sheep-roasting were held on the ice. It was reported at the time that a hurling match was played on the frozen Shannon River, while a fair was held on the frozen Lee River in Cork, one of the most southerly rivers in Ireland. It was said that it was so cold that alcohol froze and birds dropped from the sky, frozen in mid flight.

However the euphoria was not to last for in its wake came drought, flood, fire, famine and plague that have had few parallels in the recorded history of this island. Fuel prices rocketed and the poor began to freeze to death. However, a greater tragedy was unfolding, in early 1740 as the cold conditions continued the potato crop began to die and with it the seedlings that should have ensured a future crop. Even the cattle and sheep perished. This cold lasted into February and was not followed by the usual rains.

In January 1740, nature itself seemed to turn against the people. A winter of terrible coldness fell across the country. The temperatures fell so much that the ports were blocked by ice and coal could not be brought in from Britain. In the 1700s, without central heating, electricity, rail or reliable road transport, coal, the most common means of heating, was brought by boat. The frozen harbours and rivers meant that it could not be delivered to many towns. This had the effect of causing coal prices to soar. As a result hedges, trees, and nurseries around Dublin were stripped bare as desperate people searched for substitute fuel.

By April people were beginning to fear the worse. Whatever farm animals that survived the heavy frosts now had nothing to graze upon. The corn, which had been planted in the hope that the rain would come, failed to grow in the fields. The price of corn more than doubled which led to disturbances. In Drogheda a corn ship was boarded by the mob and its load removed, in Dublin mobs attacked bakeries in the search for bread. The drought caused mill streams to dry up thus preventing corn mills from making the flour. It also caused the timbers of houses to dry out and many fires took hold in diverse towns and villages.

As people starved that winter, the new year of 1741 saw the outbreak of typhus and dysentery. With a population already severely weakened by starvation, 1741 became known as “The Year of The Slaughter”. In many ways it had become the perfect storm within which starvation and disease decimated the population.

In September 1741, the bad weather returned in the form of violent gales which were followed by heavy blizzards in October. Then in November two terrible storms hit the country and these brought snow and frost. On the 9th December there was severe flooding throughout the country and the very next day the frost returned.

Exact figures of the number of people who died are unknown but most historians accept a figure somewhere around 400,000 from a population of about 3 million. This event did not have the same impact upon the mind of the populace as the famine a century later largely because it did not spark the large-scale emigration that followed the famine of 1845.

The causes of such freak weather remain poorly understood. However, it has been suggested that it was precipitated by volcanic eruptions on the Kamchatka peninsula in Russia which sent thousands of tons of dust into the upper atmosphere blocking out the rays of the sun.

It is interesting to note that Mount Tarumae in Japan experienced a major volcanic eruption, as did Mount Asahi, Japan’s tallest mountain, in 1739.

In 1783 and 86 we experienced two successive severe winters both attributed to an Icelandic volcanic eruption.

In 1816, known as the year without summer, snow fell late and the summer never really materialised. The winter proceeding it was also severe.

A volcanic eruption at Mount Tambora on the island of Sumbawa, Indonesia, greatly disrupted wind patterns and temperatures.

In 2010 the eruptions of Eyjafjallajökull, Iceland caused enormous disruption to air travel across western and northern Europe over a period of six days in April 2010. Additional localised disruption continued into May 2010.

Is there a connection between volcanic activity and our unusual Irish weather?

Could it happen again?

Well we are certainly experiencing colder and more prolonged winters. Climate change is a fact. Volcanic action is projected and we are witnessing drastic changes in weather patterns.

So stock up on warm clothing, gather your winter fuel through the summer, then draw comfort from the fact we have been through it before and we are still here to tell the tale.

There is a brilliant little book called: Arctic Ireland written by David Dickson that covers this episode in Irish history for those who may wish to learn more and it would make a nice addition to your library.

Souterrains.

This post is in response to a question from Radcliffe on 20th March 2011.

From French souterrain, from sous ‘under’ + terrain ‘ground’.

There have been various theories put forward concerning the use of souterrains. Some have suggested they were constructed as a place of refuge in time of attack, others have suggested that they were intended as storage facilities for weapons and supplies. There are suggestions that the souterrains were used as a primitive form of cold storage for perishable goods, the forerunner of the modern day refrigeration method?

It would have been difficult to get anything in and out of the souterrains through the tiny entrances. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to build a fairly large space for storage implying you intended to keep a lot goods there and then only provide an entrance through which it would be difficult to carry objects much larger than a small sack.

Neither does it make sense to store weapons and supplies in a deep, dark and damp hole in the ground. As a place of refuge, there are many souterrains that have only one entrance which would make it more of a prison than a place of refuge. Dark, damp, no sanitation, no water, I don’t think it would be my first choice?
It is sad to imagine that during the ravages of the famine, of which there were many in this country including 1740 The year of The Slaughter, that the souterrains may have been used as places of refuge for those suffering from the freezing weather and starvation.

There is no definite evidence that souterrains were used as places of ritual practice but there are certainly ritual aspects to their use. Evidence of fire has been found at a number of sites as well as cremated human bones. When you consider that superstitious Iron Age humans may have looked upon the souterrain as an entrance to the domain of the earth goddess/gods? It may also have taken on significance as a symbol of the womb of mother earth sp may have been used for rituals surrounding birth and re-birth? They may also have been seen as places where you could commune with the spirits and with nature, a place of deep meditation.

Could it be possible that there were varied uses concerning souterrains that may have influenced their designs? Some do have more than one entrance so may have served as escape tunnels? Some have been discovered under Raths so may have been storage facilities for weapons and supplies? Some, due to a constant cold temperature could indeed have been used as primitive fridges. However, some may have been used as a place of ritual. It’s certainly food for thought.

There are also a number of legends concerning the Tuatha de Danann, and the Sidhe in regards to souterrains.

As I have said before “It’s for you the reader to decide”

Lower image: Court of the Faeries Artist: James C. Christensen
Top image: Titania Sleeping Artist: Richard Dadd

Oweynagat The Cave of The Cats, Part Two.

Oweynagat. I thought I would do a follow up to the first post for those who may be interested.

Cave of Cruachan, Cave of the Cats Irish mythological site.

As stated in the previous post Oweynagat is In Co. Roscommon, which is in Ireland’s western province of Connacht. It is a tiny cave of huge mythic importance. Part of the great archaeological complex of Cruachan, the ancient capital of the province of Connacht centred on the fort of its goddess-queen Medb. Still visible and accessible in a small field on the edge of the complex, 700 meters southwest of the great mound where Medb’s palace was said to stand, the cave’s opening is quite small, some three feet high by four feet wide that opens up into a souterrain or underground passage.

Oweynagat figures prominently in ancient Irish myth and legend. It was the birthplace of Medb herself. The goddess and fairy queen Étain, fleeing with her fairy lover Midir from her human husband, stopped at Oweynagat with her companions, who included her maidservant Crochan Crogderg, whose name means “blood-red cup.” Midir was said to have wanted to visit a relative who lived in the cave, the otherwise unknown Sinech (“large-breasted one”), for whom he had great affection. At the end of their stay, Crochan was so enamoured of the place—which although it seems only a dingy cave, is a great palace in the Otherworld—that she begged to stay. Étain and Midir gave her the cave, and so it was there that Crochan’s daughter Medb was born.

Oweynagat also appears in the adventure tale about one of her servants, a man named Nera who saved Cruachan from an attack by Otherworldly forces with the assistance of a fairy woman whom he met in the cave and married. She warned him that Medb’s beautiful palace would be burned to the ground the following Samhain, a warning that brought the forces of Medb and Ailill Mac Máta into the cave to eliminate the danger. As with other tales, this one associates the cave with the feast of Samhain.

The cave is also associated with the great figure that shadows Medb throughout the epic through which she is most known, the Táin Bó Cuailnge or cattle raid on Cuailnge—the Mórrígan, who drove her Otherworldly cattle into the cave each sunset. She may be the one who flew out of the cave, called “the hell-mouth of Ireland” in medieval documents, for apparitions were said to appear there, especially on the magical Celtic festival of Samhain (November 1) when the veils between the worlds were thin and even those without second sight could see beyond this world and into the next.

The Mórrígan was known to have stolen the herds of a girl named Odras and to have driven them down into the cave of Oweynagat. Undeterred by Mórrígan’s fierce reputation, Odras pursued her, trying to regain the cattle upon which she relied. She got almost to Mórrígan’s domain, but the great queen was more powerful than the girl and turned her into a lake.

Oweynagat is much more commonly associated with cattle than with cats; not only does the Mórrígan drive her cattle through the cave, but a woman was said to have travelled underground for many miles, dragged there by a calf to whose tail she clung.

Within the cave, the great cauldron of abundance was said to reside. It was once kept at Tara but later returned to the Otherworld.

The cave is still accessible, although its frighteningly tiny entry makes it one of the least-visited of Ireland’s great mythological sites.

I hope you find this follow up to be of some interest. Oweynagat is not as high profile as Tara and yet in many ways is as important if not more so.

The Giant's Causeway.

The Giants Causeway.

In County Antrim there is a place that is steeped in the mythology and folklore of Ireland. That place is known as The Giants Causeway.

Its ‘discovery’ was announced in 1693 by Sir Richard Bulkeley, a fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, when presenting a paper to the Royal Society. However, the ‘discoverer who should have received credit for it was the Bishop of Derry who had visited the site a year earlier.

There was a great deal of argument concerning the creation of the Causeway. Some said it had been created by men with picks and chisels, some said it was the result of nature, and some said it was the work of a giant.

The issue was finally settled in 1771 when a Frenchman by the name of Demarest, announced the true origin of the Causeway was the result of volcanic action.
In 1740, a Dublin spinster’s realistic sketches brought the Causeway to the attention of the public and ever since it has attracted visitors from all over the world.

What of its folklore?

One of the legends that surround The Giants Causeway concerns two giants, Finn McCool and Benandonner.

Finn MacCool, the handsome giant of Ireland, lived on the wild northern coast, and occasionally he sat at the edge of the sea, sucking on his thumb. Whenever he had a question, any puzzle at all, he sucked that thumb and the answer came.

Finn fell in love with a giantess named Oonagh who lived on a rocky isle across the Irish Sea. Trouble was Finn could not swim, so how would he reach his beloved? He thought a while, and then he tore up some trees, and he built himself a boat, but when he stepped inside, that boat sank under his weight. After all, Finn was a giant.

So Finn sucked on his thumb, and next thing he was gathering columns of rock, six-sided each, flat-topped and weighing 10 tons. He stood on the shore and tossed those columns, one after another, into the sea. In this way he formed a path all the way to Oonagh’s Island.

Oonagh was very impressed (what woman wouldn’t be?), and it was not long before they were married and shortly after she had a son (fast workers, these giants?). They called their son Ossian and he grew up and left home to live with the faeries (I’m saying nothing?) but let’s just say they were sad when he left.

However, they were not sad for long and they commenced singing. Everyone could hear them and as their singing was better than Jedward’s it didn’t upset them. Everyone that is except Benandonner, he was another giant that lived a lonely miserable life on the Isle of Straffa and he was very happy being miserable and did not wish to hear happy singing coming from his neighbours.

Benandonner decided he had to silence yer man Finn and while he was at it he might as well take his wife home with him so with this in mind he challenged Finn for Oonagh’s hand. Now Benandonner was a big ugly smelly yoke and as he dressed in old rat skins and had three eyes, one in the middle of his forehead, he had no chance of Oonagh but Finn Invited him to come over “if yer think yer hard enough”.

The following day Benandonner arrived at the house and knocked on the door. Oonagh answered, “Finn’s out at the minute come back tomorrow”. “O.K” said Benandonner and as this made him very miserable altogether he was quite happy.

When Finn arrived back he saw Benandonner’s footprints outside his door. “Jezus would ye look at the size of them” he began having second thoughts. “Oonagh, that gobshite must be massive”, said Finn. Oonagh said “Don’t you be worrying; I have an idea that will put manners on him”

The next morning there was a knock on the door. This time Finn was home but he was hiding in the baby cradle that had once been Ossian’s. He was covered with blankets so only his eyes could be seen.

“Is this yer baby” Benandonner asked, “Yes he is, and his father will be home soon”.

Oonagh had baked some cakes and invited Benandonner to sit down and have some while he waited. What he didn’t know was that she had baked a cake with pieces of metal in it and it was this that she gave him. When he took a bite he let out a scream “I’ve bust me tooth” he wailed, “What have you put in them”. “Only a bit of butter and cream, a few eggs and some flour, sure the baby loves them” and she gave one to Finn (without any metal in it).

“That child must have teeth of iron” said Benandonner and he bent over and for some unknown reason he stuck his finger in the baby’s mouth (he wasn’t a bright giant).

Surprise, surprise, Crunch! Finn bit down so hard he bit the finger clean off.
Benandonner let out another scream, “What kind of child is this, he’s strong enough to bite off a giant’s finger?”

“Aragh, he’s only a wee thing” said Oonagh, “He’s not that strong but his daddy is trying to teach him how to get better”

Benandonner laughed nervously. "What kind of things is he teaching him?" he asked.
Oonagh smiled “Oh just things” she said.

Benandonner began to tremble, and then he said, "I'll be going now," and he backed out of the house and ran across the causeway. Halfway across a thought struck him, and he stopped. Working feverishly with all his great strength, he carried away the middle section of those rocks, one by one, for he had no wish for a visit from the monstrous Finn.

So that is the reason why only the beginning and the end remain of the Giant's Causeway, one on Staffa Island, home of Benandonner, and another on the Antrim coast, just near the place where Finn lived.

Volcanic action or a giant’s fear, you decide.