Barmoney is the name of a townland near Galbally in the Parish of Bree.
There was an old Church there hundreds of years ago, I suppose it is the oldest in Ireland.
It is now all in ruins and you could only see the signs of the old walls where the Church stood. Near the ruins of the old Church there is a stream which flows from a Blessed Well nearby.
In a field nearby there are two large stones standing about twelve feet apart. There was a large flat stone laid across them but it got knocked off someway, and it's now buried in the clay. This place is supposed to be a Druid's alter. The people of the locality call it the Giant's Grave.
They say that a Giant "pegged" the stones from Forth Mountain (about 8 miles as the crow flies) and he said wherever they would land that he should be buried. They "lit" in Barmoney where they can be seen to this day.
The giant came along to the spot and it was said that he died there and was buried beneath the stones.

Long ago people named Tottenhams lived near Taghmon. The place is now called Tottenham Green. While the Tottenhams were living there great noises used to be heard in the house at night.
The noise got so bad that they sent for the priest. His name was Fr. Murphy. The priest came and blessed the house - and what was making the noise every night but a devil.
The noise stopped for a while, but after some time it started again worse than ever. I bet the devil altogether the second time.
The Steward said he would not go for the priest again. So Lord Tottenham said he should go. The Steward would not go anyway. So Lord Tottenham had to go himself. He told the priest that the devil was back again. The priest and Lord Tottenham went to the house; the Lord did not go in at all. He stayed outside. The priest went in and closed the door after him. He put his umbrella by the wall. He put his hat on the window, and he put his coat on the stairs. Then he sat down and commenced to read his book. After a while he called the devil to come, and he got no answer. He began reading again, and after a bit

"Get away you sow, and take your litter of bonhams with you." The poor woman turned away but before she went she warned Lady Kavanagh to be beware of the silver trough & of the Lord on the tree.
When a baby was born in the great house some months afterwards, it was born with a pig's head. God bless & save the [?]. It had to be kept in a private room & fed out of a silver trough. The good lady nearly left her mind. She recovered by degrees & then she became convinced that the chapel & statues & the other papist emblems were the cause of all her misfortunes. She desecrated the chapel & broke the arms & legs off a beautiful statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary despite many protestations from her husband, good man. Her next baby was born without arms or legs.
"What about the Lord on the tree, daddy?"
"That is a part of the stroy I can't tell you. I don't know if I ever heard houe the Lord on the tree came into the story, but I know that it was seen some time before the second baby was born.
"He had a great eye for a pretty face, and often & often he bargained with some pretty girl to give him a kiss. But she, good lassie, as soon as she had lifted him out of the houdah & secured her gold, ran away & left him helpless as an insect on the ground till help came."

before right enough.
He was wandherin' away wit himsel in a half aimless sort o' a way, an' thinkin begot, where would he amble ta nexht, when all o' a sudden, he saw the whole landschape brightenin', an' when he looked round ta see fot was the cause o' it, he could make out the headlights o' a motor-car comin', an' they war the mosht powerful headlights that he ever saw.
On an' on they came, nearer, an' nearer to him, an' for the pure curiosity o' it, ta see who could own such a car, if he didn't put up his hand ta the dhriver ta halt.
The car halted on the spot, someone opened the dure an' he sthepped in, an' sat in the back sate o' the car. He saw that there was no wan in the car, but himsel, an' the dhriver, an' o' courche he was a bit dazzled wit the powerful lights o' the car, ta be able ta make out who the dhriver was in the dark. He was stharin at him for a good file, an' at lasht, the Lord protect us from all harm this blessed night, if he didn't get the firsht, an' I spose the lasht fret o' his life.
There sittin in the car, in the dhriver's sate, wit his two hands on the wheel, an' him stheerin her like a

1
Going away, The Shepherd's praise and bless the night.
O truly blessed night! This is the night what to-day gives to grace and associates with holiness all the faithful of Christ. It rescues them from the vices of the world, and enlightens them amid the darkness of sinners
- St Augustine.Oh, praised and ever - bless'd this happy night
In every creature's name, we'd speak thy praise;
While Angels sing of thee from height to height,
May Earth retain thy time and date always
In circling years, whene'er thou shalt recur,

Fairs (information from records or from traditionPalatine 26 March (Patent for 3 others - not held) RIC
Nurney 6 May (not held according to Lewis) RICBlessed WellsHacketown ri/jane John the Baptist
(Will finish fairs & wells some other time)Hydrophobia (cta from page 84)
If a dog bites a person, the dog must be destroyed. Otherwise the person has little chance of recovery. & should the dog ever go mad, the person bitten would necessarily go mad, also. Such is the belief. When we were children we were in morshal dread of "the headless horseman" and of "the dead coach".
True story from Aghode: a young stepped outside her own door. The coach passed and she was never seen again' ..Explanation given by some of the same members of the community: the wheels of the car were stood with rubber and the horses likewise. Therefore no noise. The driver saw unclear & drove through the front window. They were body snatchers for the young doctors to practise on "up" in Dublin. Deo gratias 16/10/1937 finis

She pressed you to her loving heart,
She kissed you and caressed you.
You still can hear the loving words
She whispered as she blessed you.She told you, in her lonely heart
That she'd be always waiting
And watching, daily watching for
The letter you'd be writing.Then do not let her vainly wait
Nor wrong her patient love,
For oh, it is a sacred thing -
A mother's holy love.She,s getting old and feeble now
And may not long be waiting;
There'll be no mother then to read
The letter you'll be writing.

The Little moor
The Bron
The Green Garden
The Big Field
The Caraigín
The Rath
The Mill Field
The Páirc Bán
The Church Meadow
The Glebe
The Tobbacco Field
The Chapel Field
The White House Field
The Páirc
The Blessed Well Field
The Fairy Palace
The Knock Field.

Will sure a victory bring.
So gentles all I must conclude
Though I've got more to say
So appear above St. Patrick
And meet me on the way
(Enter St. Patrick)
Here I am St. Patrick true
A St. of ancient fame
From the Western Isle by nature blessed
Hibernia is the name
The pagan laws I did destroy
One true God to adore
And the Christian church did firmly plant
To stand for evermore.
this nation I did consecrate
Great rulers did ordain.
till your tyrant band
did invade our land
And our sacred laws profane
This nation you did plunder o'er