The next story is also based in the capital and is a
warning to not believe everything you see or hear as some things are not quite
what they may first seem. It is called:
The
Black Pig. Also known as ‘The Dolocher’.
An
interesting tale in connection with the Black Dog Prison in Dublin's Cornmarket
was related in the Dublin Penny Journal in November 1832. The paper described
how a 'creature', who appeared in the form of a black pig, had apparently
engaged in a reign of terror against the women of the city at the end of the
18th Century.
The
beast, known as 'The Dolocher', was commonly believed to be the spirit of a
former inmate of the Black Dog named Olocher who had been sentenced to death
for murder and rape. On the night before he was to be executed at Gallows Hill,
Olocher cheated the hangman by committing suicide. This caused uproar in the
prison with the authorities questioning the prison officials on how it
happened.
Within
a few days, the prison staff had another worry on their minds. One of the
sentry posts, a little removed from the main prison, had a sentry on duty every
night and imagine the shock when he was found lying unconscious on the ground.
He had been badly mauled and when he recovered his senses he told his listeners
that he had been attacked by a big black pig. At first, no one believed his
story but when he was stripped in the prison hospital, his wounds were so
horrible that some began to believe him. For many nights afterwards, the black pig was seen
by several other sentries.
The
prison was now on full alert but they had another shock coming. About a week
after the happening to the first sentry, another sentry detailed for duty at
the same lonely post was missing when his relief came to replace him. A search
was at once organised and the man's clothes were discovered at the rear of the
sentry box. His rifle was standing with the butt on the ground and his clothes,
uniform, tunic, trousers and shirt were piled beside it. Locals, putting two and two together,
decided that the black pig was really the ghost of the unhappy Olocher, or the
Dolocher as he came to be known and that he had carried off the unfortunate
sentry and murdered him.
The news of the second strange happening in
the prison spread quickly and now a fear of the night spread through the
Liberties and well it might for woman after woman who was foolish enough to go
out on their own were attacked night after night. One woman claimed that she had been attacked by the
beast in Christ Church Lane, while a pregnant woman was said to have had a
miscarriage after an encounter with the beast in the same area. Due to the fear and terror engendered by the
black pig, the lanes and alleyways surrounding Christ Church soon became a
no-go area after dark.
The
fear that haunted the Liberties soon spread to other parts of the city and it
was noticed that it was always young women who were attacked. Some of the girls who were attacked told that
their attacker had the face of a pig. By this time Dublin was deserted city at
night time, a city that trembled with fear as the long winter nights shrouded
the unlit streets of the Liberties and other parts of Dublin. Eventually, the
long nights ended and with the coming of late spring and summer, the attacks
ended. As the longs days and short nights began to end with the coming of late
autumn, people hoped and prayed the evil monster that had prowled there last
winter wouldn’t return. The nights of November saw their hopes dashed as on a
foggy night another young woman was attacked and her cries for help were heard
and the attacker fled. However, the girl's story was that her attacker was
"the black pig".
Vigilante
groups were formed in an effort to catch the Dolocher and, on one particular
night, the patrons of a pub in Cook Street set out to kill every black pig they
could find running loose on the streets of Dublin. The presence of the
vigilantes seemed to force the Dolocher to lie low for a while, but he
re-emerged to continue his reign of terror a year later with an attack on a
woman at Fisher's Alley, beside Wood Quay. The fear that had been over the people
the previous year returned and some families barred their doors at night time.
A couple of weeks passed and a couple more women were attacked and then the
weather took a hand.
It
was a late November evening but fine, and a blacksmith from the edge of the
Liberties decided to take a walk to his favourite tavern in Thomas Street for a
drink and a chat with his friends. Time passed quickly and the blacksmith decided
it was time to go home. When he came out of the tavern, he discovered it was
raining and as he had brought no coat with him, he returned to the tavern owner
for the loan of something to keep the rain off him. The tavern owner gave him a
long hooded cloak belonging to his wife.
The
blacksmith set off to walk home through the dark streets and alleyways of the
Liberties. He had just reached the end of a dark alleyway when a figure sprang
at him and attempted to punch him to the ground. In a flash, he realised that
his attacker was the black pig, while the black pig realised that this was no
frail woman as he had thought because he was wearing a cloak. In a few minutes,
the blacksmith had his attacker on the ground and then he pulled off the skin
of a black pig's head the man was wearing.
By
this time, three or four men had arrived on the scene and thinking that it was
another attack on a woman had come as quickly as they could. They were in no
way gentle with him as they dragged him to his feet and brought him to a police
station. It was there the next morning that the man was identified. The
Blacksmith had delivered a fatal blow to his attacker who was identified as the
missing sentry.
Before
he died he confessed to aiding Olocher in his suicide and orchestrating the
slaughter of the pigs. He had spread the rumour of the black pig himself using
the resulting atmosphere of fear and superstition for the sole purpose of
attacking and robbing the innocent women of the Liberties. In some ways
Dublin’s Jack the Ripper.
No comments:
Post a Comment