A remarkable account is given in the Bardic Legends of a form that
appeared to Maeve, queen of Connaught, on the eve of battle.
Suddenly there stood before the queen’s chariot, a tall and beautiful
woman. She wore a green robe clasped with a golden bodkin, a golden
fillet on her head, and seven braids for the Dead of bright gold were
in her hand. Her skin was white as snow that falls in the night; her
teeth were as pearls; her lips red as the berries of the mountain ash;
her golden hair fell to the ground; and her voice was sweet as the
golden harp-string when touched by a skilful hand.
“Who art thou, O woman?” asked the queen, in astonishment.
“I am Feithlinn, the fairy prophetess of the Rath of Cruachan,” she
answered.
“’Tis well, O Feithlinn the prophetess,” said Maeve; “but what dost
thou foresee concerning our hosts?”
“I foresee bloodshed; I foresee power; I foresee defeat!” answered the
prophetess.
“My couriers have brought me good tidings!” said the queen; “my army
is strong, my warriors are well prepared. But speak the truth, O
prophetess; for my soul knows no fear.”
“I foresee bloodshed; I foresee victory!” answered the prophetess the
second time.
“But I have nothing to fear from the Ultonians,” said the queen, “for
my couriers have arrived, and my enemies are under dread. Yet, speak
the truth, O prophetess, that our hosts may know it.”
“I foresee bloodshed; I foresee conquest; I foresee _death_!” answered
the prophetess, for the third time.
“To me then it belongs not, thy prophecy of evil,” replied the queen,
in anger.
“Be it thine, and on thy own head.”
And even as she spoke the prophet maiden disappeared, and the queen saw
her no more.
But it so happened that, some time afterwards, Queen Maeve was cruelly
slain by her own kinsman, at Lough Rea by the Shannon, to avenge the
assistance she had given in war to the king of Ulster; there is an
island in the lake where is shown the spot where the great queen was
slain, and which is still known to the people as—_the stone of the dead
queen_.
Maeve, the great queen of Connaught, holds a distinguished place in
Bardic Legends. When she went to battle, it is said, she rode in an
open car, accompanied by four chariots—one before, another behind, and
one on each side—so that the golden _assion_ on her head and her royal
robes should not be defiled by the dust of the horses’ feet, or the
foam of the fiery steeds; for all the sovereigns of Ireland sat crowned
with a diadem in battle, as they drove in their war-chariots, as well
as in the festal and the public assemblies.