Know Your Goblins – The Clurichaun: Ireland’s Mischievous Cellar-Dwelling Goblin

Where ever those little goblinoid swine are concerned, I cannot help but respond to any cry of desperation and fear. I immediately rush to my bookcase, candle in hand, and begin sifting through my collection of dusty tomes, eager to aid the stricken reader in any way I can. For, as I am sure you are aware, goblins are a very real problem, and knowing how to deal with them is every bit as essential as knowing how to feed and clean yourself.

I have previously had cause to explore the legend of the leprechaun. These diminutive, shoemaking fellows are known for their love of gold and acts of mischief. Their trade, however, makes them some of the more productive members of Ireland’s fairy folk. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for their good-for-nothing cousins, the clurichauns.

The clurichaun might be considered one of the magical folk’s more—how shall we put it?—idle characters. Although he is sometimes compared to a household spirit, you will not find him performing chores in exchange for a saucer of milk. The very idea of a good day’s work—or even a good night’s work—is entirely alien to him.

If you are unlucky enough to discover that one has taken up residence in your home, you had best lock the cellar door. These pint-sized pests are known for guzzling alcohol at a prodigious rate and are said to be particularly partial to a few cheeky glasses of wine.

Traditionally, the clurichaun was depicted as a small, elderly man dressed in old-fashioned clothes, often wearing a red cap, leather apron and buckled shoes. He was said to possess an extraordinary fondness for wine, ale and strong spirits. After nightfall, he might creep into a cellar, drink his fill and make merry among the barrels.

Worse still, if the little tearaway felt insulted or mistreated, he might throw a dreadful strop and cause all manner of trouble around the house and cellar.

It is possible that I have been a little harsh on these diminutive fellows by suggesting that they were entirely useless. A clurichaun might zealously guard a household’s cellar against thieves and dishonest servants. Unfortunately, this service was of limited benefit when the creature subsequently rewarded itself with a healthy measure of the very drink it had been protecting.

Thomas Crofton Croker, in his book Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, records the story of one particular clurichaun called Naggeneen, who took up residence in the wine cellar of a gentleman named Justin Mac Carthy.

The little goblin took great delight in terrorising Mac Carthy’s servants whenever they ventured into the cellar. He would bellow like a bull and cause the barrels and casks to rock violently. This so frightened the servants that Mac Carthy struggled to find a butler willing to remain in his employment.

One evening, a young servant named Jack Leary entered the cellar to collect more wine for his master and Mac Carthy’s guests. The terrible noises sent the unfortunate fellow fleeing back upstairs without a single bottle.

Mac Carthy, exasperated by yet another servant’s failure, declared that he would abandon Ballinacarthy the following day. He then entered the cellar himself, where he discovered a six-inch-tall clurichaun sitting astride a cask of his oldest port. The creature wore a red nightcap, a leather apron, blue stockings and silver-buckled shoes. His withered face and purple-red nose bore witness to his considerable fondness for drink.

The clurichaun was Naggeneen, the troublesome spirit behind the disturbances. When confronted, he cheerfully asked whether they were moving house the following day, making it clear that he intended to accompany Mac Carthy.

Realising that moving would achieve nothing, Mac Carthy remained in his ancestral home. Naggeneen appeared to possess a certain respect for the master of the house, but he continued to terrify the servants. Consequently, Mac Carthy was forced to enter the cellar and collect the wine himself.

So please, dear readers, guard your wine cellars well. and, if you do not possess a cellar, guard that little cupboard in the kitchen where you store your special drinks—you know, the ones that give you a happy, warm feeling inside. Nothing would distress me more than to discover that you had fallen victim to one of these inebriated little swine.

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog, my good friend.

If you would like to hear one of my own tales brought chillingly to life, the wonderfully talented Morgan Scorpion has narrated my short story Fireside Horror on her YouTube channel. She has done a truly marvellous job, and I warmly recommend exploring her channel and supporting her work.

You can listen to the story by following the link below:

Listen to Fireside Horror on Morgan Scorpion’s YouTube channel

If you enjoy the tale, please consider liking the video, leaving a comment and subscribing to Morgan’s channel.

Until next week, my friends.

Stay Spooky.

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Sources

Wikipedia

irishgodsandgoddesses.net/myths/clurichaun/

Thomas Crofton Croker, Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland