Ruins of Half-hung McNaughton's Hiding Place

Image: © Kenneth Allen Taken: 17 Nov 2010

I was last here in July, 2006 when the structure was in better order; the advancing years and recent severe weather has wreaked havoc on the barn, as the roof has collapsed - see Image] There is a poster in Lifford jail depicting the execution Image] Eugene Cowley penned this song Deep are the woods of wild Prehen There a ghost strikes fear in men, Half-Stalks McNaughton, the Raparee They hanged him high on the gallows tree. He loved a maid lived in Prehen, Her father forbade them to meet again. With the help of a servant he planned at last To kill the girl’s father as his carriage passed. A shot rang out through the woods that night As birds wheeled skywards, a ghastly sight Met the eyes of McNaughton who then in flight Cursed himself and the hour he first seen daylight. He killed his sweetheart by mistake T’was her father’s life he meant to take. They captured him and trussed and bound Marched him to hang in old Lifford Town. The rope it broke, not once but twice. By the laws of man you can’t hang thrice. The people cried, “Let him go free, Don’t hang him high on the gallows tree.” He placed the rope around his neck, A rope so strong it would not break. “Half-hanged now I ne’er will be. So hang me high on the gallows tree.” Now by that name he is known to man, His ghost it runs down through Prehen. On a moonlit night you’ll hear his cry, “On the gallows tree, the gallows tree, The gallows tree, hang me high.”

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