The Dullahan - Ireland’s Headless Horseman
The Dulllahan rides forth…
When the wild wind blows and the mists weave their way across the hills and into Ireland’s sunken lanes, both humble and lofty folk alike bolt their doors, throw more fuel upon the fire, and pray for the rays of the early morning sun to bless the land. For these conditions are ripe for one of the Emerald Isle’s most terrifying entities - The Dullahan.
Tales of the Dullahan, or Dulachan (Irish: Dubhlachanreach), do not seem confined to any one particular area of Ireland; his reach spreads throughout the land. He has a somewhat gruesome appearance, so steel your nerves dear reader, before proceeding. He is described as a ghostly rider upon a black horse, he has no head upon his shoulders, instead he carries it before him, gripping it by the hair. It bears a particularly revolting aspect, a wide toothy grin said to nearly split it in half. This dire trophy is further described by Thomas Crofton Croker in the 18th century, a collector of strange Irish tales:
...such a head no mortal ever saw before. It looked like a large cream cheese hung round with black puddings: no speck of colour enlivened the ashy paleness of the depressed features; the skin lay stretched over the unearthly surface almost like the parchment head of a drum. Two fiery eyes of prodigious circumference, with a strange and irregular motion, flashed like meteors.
As might be expected of any self-respecting dark entity, he dresses in black. More unsettling still, he is sometimes described as carrying a whip made from a human spine, which he uses to viciously thrash his unfortunate spectral mount.
There are also tales of a “Headless Coach” (also called the Cóiste Bodhar, or “Soundless Coach”), driven by the Dullahan down lonely roads. Irish writer Robert Lynd recounts the testimony of a witness from Connemara, who spoke of walking the lanes one night when he encountered the silent shadow of a coach passing by him in utter stillness.
The fear of encountering this terrifying equestrian was very real, for it was believed that he could strike a person blind in one eye, or use eldritch powers - which as we all know are surely the very worst kind of powers - to draw out a victim’s soul, killing them on the spot. He was often seen atop a hill, holding his head aloft, scanning the countryside for lonely travellers to terrorise. Some tales even speak of him riding from village to village, knocking upon cottage doors; should anyone be foolish enough to answer, well…
The Dullahan was said to be repelled by gold, and so nocturnal travellers were advised to carry some with them to ward off any potential encounter. Of course, carrying precious metals through the countryside at night might well draw the attention of a far more mortal danger. So one must decide what is to be feared more: a headless phantom, or a band of robbers.
In a blog on Irish customs, Bridget Haggerty relates the following tale of an encounter with this unfriendly spectre:
One story from Galway tells of a man walking home late at night when he heard the sound of horse’s hooves pounding along the road behind him. In dread, he turned and saw the Dullahan. He ran, but nothing can outrun the angel of death. Then, remembering the old lore, he dropped a gold coin upon the road. A terrible roar sounded in the air above him, and when he dared to look again, the Dullahan had vanished.
Our old friend Croker also provides a tale in his book Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland (1828):
A peasant named Larry Dodd, a resident of the “White Knight’s Country” at the foot of the Galtee Mountains, travels to Cashel, where he purchases a nag, intending to sell it at Kildorrery fair that very evening. Along the way, he offers a ride to a cloaked woman. When he attempts to claim a kiss as payment, he discovers - to his horror - that she is a Dullahan. Losing consciousness, he later awakens within the ruins of a church, where he beholds a dreadful sight: a wheel of torture adorned with severed heads, surrounded by headless Dullahans - men and women, nobles and commoners alike. He is offered a drink, but as he begins to praise it, his head is struck from his body mid-sentence. When he regains his senses, his head is restored, though his horse is lost to the Dullahans forever.
My best advice to visitors to Ireland is therefore this: remain indoors of an evening, sit comfortably beside a roaring fire, and if you do venture out to a local pub, do so in the company of good friends. And when at last you wend your drunken way home, be certain to carry a piece of gold upon your person - for you never know what may come riding up behind you.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. I hope this strange tale has not put you off visiting the emerald isle, which is a beautiful place. If you enjoy my work, please consider picking up a copy of my book, Fireside Horror - a terrifying folk-horror novel told through short stories, available on all Amazon stores. I have enclosed links to the UK and US versions below. It are also available to order from Waterstones.
Until next week,
Stay spooky.
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Sources
Wikipedia
Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland T C Croker (1828)
