Lough Foyle means the borrowed lake, for in old times there were two weird sisters dwelling beyond the Shannon, who were skilled in necromancy. And the elder sister said to the younger—
“Give me the loan of your silver lake, for I have none; and I promise to restore it to you next Monday.”
So the younger, being good-natured, rolled up the lake in a sheet and despatched it over hills and dales to her sister. But when the time came for return, the elder sister, being deceitful and cunning, made answer to the messenger sent for it—
“Truly, I said Monday, but I meant the Day of Judgment. So I shall keep the lake till then.”
And the lake therefore remains in her country to this day, while the great hollow whence it was taken can still be seen in Connaught, bare and barren, waiting for the waters that never will return.
THE HEN’S CASTLE.
At the head of Lough Corrib, deep in the water about a gunshot from the land, stands the ancient castle of Caisleen-na-Cearca, said to have been built in one night by a cock and a hen, but in reality it was founded by the ill-fated Roderick O’Connor, the last king of Ireland. Strange lights are sometimes seen flitting through it, and on some particular midnight a crowd of boats gather round it, filled with men dressed in green with red sashes. And they row about till the cock crows, when they suddenly vanish and the cries of children are heard in the air. Then the people know that there has been a death somewhere in the region, and that the Sidhe have been stealing the young mortal children, and leaving some ill-favoured brat in the cradle in place of the true child.
The old castle has many historic memories; the celebrated Graina Uaile, the great chieftainess of the West, made it her abode for some time, and carried thither the young heir of Howth, whom she had abducted from Howth Castle, when on one of her piratical expeditions. Afterwards, during the Wars of Elizabeth, a distinguished lady of the sept of the O’Flaherties, Bevinda O’Flahertie, shut herself up there with her only daughter and heiress, and a following of twenty resolute men. But further to ensure her safety, she wrote to the Queen, requesting permission to arm the guard; Queen Elizabeth in return sent an autograph letter granting the request, but addressed to “her good friend, Captain Bevan O’Flahertie,” evidently thinking that the custodian of such a castle must certainly be a man.
In the solemn solitude of this picturesque and stately Caisleen-na-Cearca, the great lake fortress of Lough Corrib, with its rampart of purple mountains and its water pathway fifty miles long, the young heiress grew up tall and beautiful, the pride of the west. And in due time she married Blake of Menlo Castle. And from this historic pair is descended the present baronet and owner of the property, Sir John Blake of Menlo.