Tea at Trianon: The Beast of Clare

John Wilson Croker on Marie-Antoinette

"We have followed the history of Marie Antoinette with the greatest diligence and scrupulosity. We have lived in those times. We have talked with some of her friends and some of her enemies; we have read, certainly not all, but hundreds of the libels written against her; and we have, in short, examined her life with– if we may be allowed to say so of ourselves– something of the accuracy of contemporaries, the diligence of inquirers, and the impartiality of historians, all combined; and we feel it our duty to declare, in as a solemn a manner as literature admits of, our well-matured opinion that every reproach against the morals of the queen was a gross calumny– that she was, as we have said, one of the purest of human beings."

~from History of the Guillotine by John Wilson Croker, 1844

Edmund Burke on Marie-Antoinette

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely there never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she had just begun to move in, glittering like a morning star full of life and splendor and joy. Oh, what a revolution....Little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her, in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers! I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a look which threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone; that of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded...."

~Edmund Burke, October 1790

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

The Beast of Clare

From The Abbey of Misrule:

Josephine offers a few other good stories too. One of them features that old Irish folk standby the Bad Protestant Landlord, featuring in a common tale in well folklore, that of the disrespected well which takes its revenge:
A good few years ago the well was desecrated by Sir Hugh Dillon Massery of Doonass, a Protestant Landlord of the district who heard of the wonderful healing powers of the water. He took a blind horse there to be cured, on bathing his eyes in the water the horse was instantly cured, but strange to relate his owner was stricken with blindness.
When I hear stories like this, I always wonder whether the act of revenge was carried out by the well itself, or the saint associated with it. Revenge is not a saintly attribute, but as ever in these stories, the line is blurry. It doesn’t really matter, I suppose, as long as the visitor gets the message, which in this case is: no horses at the well!
Mind you, there is some debate as to who this well’s saint actually is: or, more specifically, whether he is one saint or two. Senan Liath means, in Irish, ‘Senan the grey’ (which may explain why he looks a bit like Gandalf). This appellation is used locally to distinguish this Senan from his more famous namesake, St Senan of Scattery, who headed a well-known monastery on Scattery Island in the Shannon estuary in the sixth century.
As with so many early saints here, a number of intriguing tales have gathered themselves around St Senan, the best of which concerns a sea monster. Scattery Island’s name in Irish is Inis Cathaigh: island of the Cathach. The ‘Cathach’ in question was a giant sea monster who lived on Scattery, and who would summarily eat anyone who set foot on it. But it was God’s will that a monastery should be built there, and Senan had been chosen to do it. He sailed to the island, and on his arrival, the beast, which had a horse’s mane and eyes of fire, raged towards him. Senan swiftly stilled him with the sign of the cross, and then expelled him with prayer. The monster fled to a lake in the Burren, where he lived out his days. Assuming, that is, that he isn’t still there. You never know with sea monsters. They tend to have a long shelf life. (Read more.)