THE WOMAN WHO WENT TO HELL.
Narrator, P. Minahan, Malinmore, Glencolumkille, co. Donegal.
THERE was a woman coming out of her garden with an apron-full of cabbage. A man met her. He asked her what she would take for her burden. She said it was not worth a great deal, that she would give it to him for nothing. He said he would not take it, but would buy it. She said she would only take sixpence. He gave her the sixpence. She threw the cabbage towards him. He said that was not what he bought, but the burden she was carrying. Who was there but the devil? She was troubled then. She went home and she was weeping. It was a short time until her young son was born. He was growing till he was eighteen years old. He was out one day and fell, and never rose up till he died. When they were going to bury him, they took him to the people's house (i.e., the chapel). They left him there till morning.
There was a man among the neighbours who had three daughters. He took out a box of snuff to give (the men) a pinch. The last man to whom the box went round left the box on the altar. They went home. When the man was going to bed he went looking for his box. The box was not to be got. He said he had left it behind him in the people's house. He said he would not sleep that night until he got a pinch. He asked one of his daughters to go to the people's house and bring him the box that was on the altar. She said there was loneliness on her. He cried to the second woman, would she go? She said she would not go; that she was lonely. He cried to the third, would she go? And she said she would go; that there was no loneliness on her in his presence (i.e., of the corpse).
She went to the people's house. She found the box. She put it in her pocket. When she was coming away she saw a ring at the end of the coffin. She caught hold of it till it came to her. The end came from the coffin. The man that was dead came out. He enjoined on her not to be afraid.
“Do you see that fire over yonder? If you are able, carry me to that fire.”
“I am not able,” said she.
“Be dragging me with you as well as you can.”
She put him on her back. She dragged him till they came to the fire.
“Draw out the fire,” said he, “and put me lying in the midst of it; fix up the fire over me. Anything of me that is not burnt put the fire on it again.”
He was burning till he was all burnt. When the day was coming she was troubled on account of what she had seen during the night. When the day grew clear there came a young man, who began making fun with her.
“I have not much mind for fun on account of what I have seen during the night.”
“Well, it was I who was there,” said the young man.
“I would go to heaven if I could get an angel made by you left in my father's room.”
Three quarters (of a year) from that night she dressed herself up as if she was a poor woman. She went to his father's house and asked for lodging till morning. The woman of the house said that they were not giving lodging to any poor person at all. She said she would not ask but a seat by the fire. The man of the house told her to stay till morning. She stopped. They went both to lie down. She sat by the fire. In the course of the night she went into the room, and there she had a young son. He, i.e., her husband, came in at the window in the shape of a white dove. He dressed the child. The child began to cry. The woman of the house heard the crying. She would wager the lady had left a baby after her. She rose to get out of the bed. Her husband told her to lie quiet and have patience. She got up in spite of him. The door of the room was shut. She looked in through the keyhole. He was standing on the floor. She perceived it was her son who was there. She cried to him, was it he that was there? He said it was.
“One glance of your eye has sent me for seven years to hell.”
“I will go myself in your place,” said his mother.
She went then to go to hell. When she came to the gate, there came out steam so that she was burnt and scalded. It was necessary for her to return. “Well,” said the father, “I will go in your place.” It was necessary for him to return. The young man began to weep. He said he must go himself. The mother of the child said that she would go.
“Here is a ring for you,” said he. “When thirst comes on you, or hunger, put the ring in your mouth; you will feel neither thirst nor hunger. This is the work that will be on you—to keep down the souls; they are stewing and burning in the boiler. Do not eat a bit of food there. There is a barrel in the corner, and all the food that you get throw into the barrel.”
She went to hell then. She was keeping down the souls in the boiler. They were rising in leaps out of it. All the food she got she threw into the barrel till the seven years were over. She was making ready to be going then. The devil came to her. He said she could not go yet awhile till she had paid for the food she had eaten. She said she had not eaten one morsel of his share: “All that I got, it is in the barrel.” The devil went to the barrel. All he had given her was there for him.
“How much will you take to stay seven years more?”
“Oh, I am long enough with you,” said she; “if you give me the all that I can carry, I can stay with you.”
He said he would give it. She stopped. She was keeping down the souls during seven years. She was shortening the time as well as she could till the seven years were ended. Then she was going. When the souls saw she was going they rose up with one cry, lest one of them should be left. They went clinging to her; they were hanging to her hair all that were in the boiler. She moved on with her burden. She had not gone far when a lady in a carriage met her.
“Oh! great is your burden,” said the lady; “will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am the Virgin Mary.”
“I will not give it to you.”
She moved on with herself. She had not gone far when a gentleman met her.
“Great is your burden, my poor woman; will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am God,” said he.
“I will not give my burden to you.”
She went on with herself another while. Another gentlemen met her.
“Great is the burden you have,” said the gentleman; “will you give it to me?”
“Who are you?” said she.
“I am the King of Sunday,” said he.
“I will give my burden to you,” said she. “No rest had I ever in hell except on Sunday.”
“Well, it is a good woman you are; the first lady you met it was the devil was there; the second person you met it was the devil was there, trying if they could get your burden from you back. Now,” said God, “the man for whom you have done all this is going to be married to-morrow. He thought you were lost since you were in that place so long. You will not know till you are at home.”
She did not know till she was at home. The house was full of drinking and music. She went to the fire. Her own son came up to her.
She was making him wonder she was so worn and wasted. She told the child to go to his father and get a glass of whisky for her to drink. The child went crying to look for his father. He asked his father to give him a glass of whisky. His father gave it. He came down where she was by the fire. He gave her the glass. She drank it, there was so much thirst on her. The ring that her husband gave her she put in the glass.
“Put your hand over the mouth of the glass; give it to no one. at all till you hand it to your father.”
The lad went to his father. He gave him the glass. The father looked into it, and saw the ring. He recognised the ring.
“Who has given you this?” said he.
“A poor woman by the fire,” said the lad.
The father raised the child on his shoulders that he might point out to him the woman who had given him the ring. The child came to the poor woman.
“That is the woman,” said he, “who gave me the ring.”
The man recognised her then. He said that hardly did he know her when she came so worn and wasted. He said to all the people that he would never marry any woman but this one; that she had done everything for him; that his mother sold him to the devil, and the woman had earned him back; that she had spent fourteen years in hell, and now she had returned.
This is a true story. They are all lies but this one.
