Dingle was once so thoroughly dominated by a single family that it was known, in the Irish-speaking world around it, as “Dingle of the Husseys.” A Norman family who had come to Kerry in the wake of the 1172 invasion, the Husseys acquired lands and castles across the barony of Corkaguiny, represented the area in the Irish parliament for several centuries, and became deeply embedded in the life of the town. Their fortunes declined sharply during the Reformation, when their lands were confiscated by the Crown, and by the time this story takes place the family had fallen considerably from the position they once held.

The account attached to a house on John Street centres on a night when the Hussey family heard the banshee wailing outside. The sound was unmistakable and the dread it produced was immediate. But then, unexpectedly, the wailing stopped – and the banshee spoke.

She told them, plainly, that she would not be warning “hoarding traders” of impending death.

The implication was clear. Whatever the Husseys of John Street had become – merchants, traders, people of commerce rather than of blood – they no longer merited the banshee’s attention. In Irish tradition, the banshee attached herself to families of ancient Gaelic lineage, and her warning was a mark of that connection. To be told she would not come for you was, in its own way, a dismissal.

The following morning, news reached the family that another man named Hussey in the town had died in the night. He had received the warning that they had not.