Mullin-y-Cleigh with blood for twenty-four hours will turn roun’.
Now the village of Foxdale stands at the foot of Barrule, and it is said that in the old times a great battle between the Manx and the Irish was fought by the stream above Mullin-y-Cleigh, the Mill-by-the-Hedge.
To a Peel man he foretold:
‘There will be a battle between the Irish and the Manx at Creg Malin.’ And the old fishermen say that that battle took place two hundred years ago. It was a Sunday when the Irishmen came in the bay, and they found no place to beach their boats, so they turned the Manx boats adrift, and thought they had the place for themselves. But they soon found their masters. The Manx men came after their boats, and there was the battle—red blood running like water! And the battle was not over that day, but they fought round into Douglas, and finished at last in Derby Haven, so the old fishermen say.
Then there was an old maid that had a cressad (a melting pot), and she went from house to house making lead spoons. She was a bit queer; she would not smoke a mould on a sunny day, nor a misty day, nor a wet day, nor a windy day; she must have a day to fit herself. She met the Caillagh when he was in the shape of a goat, and she asked him to foretell when would be the end of the world. He said that before the last:
‘The Mountains of Mann will be cut over with roads, and iron horses will gallop over them, and there will be an inn on the top of Snaefell.’
That has all come true; trains rush over the island and, for sure, there is the inn on the top of our highest mountain. He said, too:
‘Mann and Scotland will come so close that two women, one standing in Mann and another in Scotland, will be able to wring a blanket between them.’ But that has not come true yet, though the sandy Point of Ayre is stretching further and further towards the Mull of Galloway.
And another of his prophecies has not come to pass yet:
‘The Chief Rulers of Mann will be compelled to flee.’