One of my favourite places to visit in Northern Ireland is Mount Stewart gardens. They are the formal gardens to the huge Georgian mansion found sitting on Strangford Lough and very eccentric indeed. We finally got round to getting a family National Trust membership and so now we can visit as much as we like, heaven! I designed a little trinket during 2020 with my little niece Heidi in mind as she loves her mythological creatures, as did Lady Londonderry who created a magical sculpture garden. One character in particular that I love is the ‘Mermaid of Mahee’, although now quite badly broken up, her elegant body and long flowing hair of the stylised sculpture found inspired by piece. She sits so perfectly within the breathtaking micro climate hidden under some overgrown foliage on the Ards Peninsula, County Down, Northern Ireland. A short distance across the waters is Island Magee where legend has it a beauty once resided. Here’s a lovely poem to transport you to another world… 

The Mermaid of Mahee

A Legend of Strangford Lough

by John Vinycomb, MRIA

When fairies lived in this old land,

And kelpies held the streams,

Such nights were seen and music heard

As come to me in dreams.

To the lone peasant’s fond belief,

In legend wild and gory,

Of sprite benign and goblin dam’d,

Is due to this wondrous story:

How the rude savage glories most

In terrors weird and fearful,

While timid souls take up the tale

With sadd’ning hearts and tearful.

They saw in fairy-haunted earth

The elfins sport and play;

They heard unearthly music float

Between the night and the day,

And feared, if seen, to be bewitched,

Or carried under ground,

To dance by night in fairyland

To magic music’s sound.

They feared the moonlight’s baleful sheen

By lonely moor or river;

They feared the dreaded weird banshee

That wails for mortals over.

But more they feared the Sweet Merroe

That haunts the lonely shore,

For he who hears th’ enchanting strain

Is lost for evermore.

And who is there that has not heard

Of sirens of the sea,

The mirrow dread of Strangford Lough,

The Mermaid of Mahee?

The sea-maid there would of times haunt,

At evening’s silent close,

With tuneful harp and songs so sweet,

When from the waves she rose.

Her golden locks in freedom float

Around her lovely form;

Her beauteous face, with eyes so blue,

Deride the coming storm.

She thrills the air with melodie,

So sweet, so clear, so high,

That the lone fisher turns to hear,

And listen with a sigh.

For well he know he may not stay,

His earthly lot is over;

Follow he must beneath the waves

The Mermaid, as her lover.

And tales are told how many a one,

Lost in Loch Cuan’s tide,

Had heard the Mermaid’s charmed strain,

And fied with her to bide,

In coral caves beneath the waves,

Or sport by pearly strand;

Transformed by fairy sea-maid’s power

To Merman jovial band.

And once, ‘tis said, a holy monk,

On Mahee sacred soil,

Was lost to sight for many a day,

No more a priest to toil.

For he, beguiled by character’s strains,

Swiftly dived in after,

Nor had he thought of brethren,

Or Abbot’s hearty laughter.

For, married to a Mer-Mayden

At bottom of the sea,

He lived and frolic’d with the best,

Forgot was Isle Mahee.

Till once again her heard the chime

Of Matins sweetly sound,

And blessed himself – before he knew,

Transported was to ground.

Beside his round tower’s lofty pile

He knelt him down to pray,

And bade the brethren – this believe –

To swear by Saint Mochae.

And now in after years come back,

With mind distressed and hazy,

Told how he’d lived beneath the sea,

The brethren cried, “He’s crazy.”

The Abbot frowned with look severe,

Thought sadly of the man –

And maiden’s eye – then slowly said,

“We’ll put him under ban.”

Said he, “You’ll live and dream your dreams

Within your prison cell,

High in the round tower’s topmost round,

And ring the service bell.”