THE SUGGESTIVELY PAGAN ELEMENT IN IRISH LITERATURE
It is this easy analysis of early Irish literature into its
ante-Christian and its post-Christian elements, which lends to it its
absorbing value and interest. For when all spurious accretions have
been stripped off, we find in the most ancient Irish poems and sagas,
a genuine picture of pagan life in Europe, such as we look for in vain
elsewhere.
"The Church," writes Windisch, "adopted towards pagan sagas, the same
position that it adopted towards pagan law.... I see no sufficient
ground for doubting that really genuine pictures of a pre-Christian
culture are preserved to us in the individual sagas, pictures which
are of course in some places faded, and in others painted over by a
later hand."[1]
Again in his notes on the story of Déirdre, he remarks--
"The saga originated in pagan, and was propagated in Christian
times, and that too without its seeking fresh nutriment as a rule
from Christian elements. But we must ascribe it to the influence of
Christianity that what is specifically pagan in Irish saga is blurred
over and forced into the background. And yet there exist many whose
contents are plainly mythological. The Christian monks were certainly
_not the first_ who reduced the ancient sagas to fixed form, but later
on they copied them faithfully, and propagated them after Ireland had
been converted to Christianity."
Zimmer too has come to the same conclusion.
"Nothing," he writes, "except a spurious criticism which takes
for original and primitive the most palpable nonsense of which
Middle-Irish writers from the twelfth to the sixteenth century are
guilty with regard to their own antiquity, which is in many respects
strange and foreign to them: nothing but such a criticism can, on the
other hand, make the attempt to doubt of the historical character
of the chief persons of the Saga cycles.[2] For we believe that
Mève, Conor mac Nessa, Cuchulain, and Finn mac Cúmhail, are exactly
as much historical personalities as Arminius, or Dietrich of Bern,
or Etzel, and their date is just as well determined as that of the
above-mentioned heroes and kings, who are glorified in song by the
Germans, even though, in the case of Irish heroes and kings, external
witnesses are wanting.'"
M. d'Arbois de Jubainville expresses himself in like terms. "We have no
reason," he writes, "to doubt of the reality of the principal _rôle_
in this [cycle of Cuchulain];"[3] and of the story of the Boru tribute
which was imposed on Leinster about a century later; he writes, "Le
récit a pour base des faits réels, quoique certains détails aient été
créés par l'imagination;" and again, "Irish epic story, barbarous
though it is, is, like Irish law, a monument of a civilisation far
superior to that of the most ancient Germans; if the Roman idea of the
state was wanting to that civilisation, and, if that defect in it was
a radical flaw, still there is an intellectual culture to be found
there, far more developed than amongst the primitive Germans.'"[4]
"Ireland, in fact," writes M. Darmesteter in his "English Studies,"
well summing up the legitimate conclusions from the works of the great
Celtic scholars, "has the peculiar privilege of a history continuous
from the earliest centuries of our era until the present day. She
has preserved in the infinite wealth of her literature a complete
and faithful picture of the ancient civilisation of the Celts. Irish
literature is therefore the key which opens the Celtic world."
But the Celtic world means a large portion of Europe, and the key to
unlock the door of its past history is in the Irish manuscripts of saga
and poem. Without them the student would have to view the past history
of Europe through the distorting glasses of the Greeks and Romans, to
whom all outer nations were barbarians, into whose social life they had
no motive for inquiring. He would have no other means of estimating
what were the feelings, modes of life, manners, and habits, of those
great races who possessed so large a part of the ancient world, Gaul,
Belgium, North Italy, parts of Germany, Spain, Switzerland, and the
British Isles; who burned Rome, plundered Greece, and colonised Asia
Minor. But in the Irish romances and historical sagas, he sees come to
light another standard by which to measure. Through this early Irish
peep-hole he gets a clear look at the life and manners of the race in
one of its strongholds, from which he may conjecture and even assume a
good deal with regard to the others.
That the pictures of social life and early society drawn in the Irish
romances represent phases not common to the Irish alone, but to large
portions of that Celtic race which once owned so much of Europe, may be
surmised with some certainty from the way in which characteristics of
the Celts barely mentioned by Greek and Roman writers re-appear amongst
the Irish in all the intimate detail and fond expansion of romance. M.
d'Arbois de Jubainville has drawn attention to many such instances.
Posidonius, who was a friend of Cicero, and wrote about a hundred years
before Christ, mentions a custom which existed in Gaul in his time of
fighting at a feast for the best bit which was to be given to the most
valiant warrior. This custom, briefly noticed by Posidonius, might be
passed by unnoticed by the ordinary reader, but the Irish one will
remember the early romances of his race in which the _curadh-mir_ or
"heroes' bit" so largely figures. He will remember that it is upon this
custom that one of the greatest sagas of the Cuchulain cycle, the feast
of Bricriu, hinges. Bricriu, the Thersites of the Red Branch, having
built a new and magnificent house, determines to invite King Conor and
the other chieftains to a feast, for the house was very magnificent.
"The dining hall was built like that of the High-king at Tara. From
the hearth to the wall were nine beds, and each of the side walls
was thirty-five feet high and covered with ornaments of gilt bronze.
Against one of the side walls of that palace was reared a royal bed
destined for Conor,[5] king of Ulster, which looked down upon all
the others. It was ornamented with carbuncles and precious stones
and other gems of great price. The gold and silver and all sorts of
jewellery which covered that bed shone with such splendour that the
night was as brilliant as the day."
He had prepared a magnificent _curadh-mir_ for the feast, consisting
of a seven-year old pig, and a seven-year old cow that had been fed on
milk and corn and the finest food since their birth, a hundred cakes of
corn cooked with honey--and every four cakes took a sack of corn to
make them--and a vat of wine large enough to hold three of the warriors
of the Ultonians. This magnificent "heroes' bit" he secretly promises
to each of three warriors in turn, Laeghaire [Leary], Conall Cearnach,
and Cuchulain, hoping to excite a quarrel among them. On the result of
his expedient the saga turns.[6]
Again, Cæsar tells us that when he invaded the Gauls they did not
fight any longer in chariots, but it is recorded that they did so
fight two hundred years before his time, even as the Persians fought
against the Greeks, and as the Greeks themselves must have fought in
a still earlier age commemorated by Homer. But in the Irish sagas we
find this epic mode of warfare in full force. Every great man has his
charioteer, they fight from their cars as in Homeric days, and much
is told us of both steed, chariot and driver. In the above-mentioned
saga of Bricriu's feast it is the charioteers of the three warriors
who claim the heroes' bit for their masters, since they are apparently
ashamed to make the first move themselves. The charioteer was more than
a mere servant. Cuchulain sometimes calls his charioteer friend or
master (popa), and on the occasion of his fight with Ferdiad desires
him in case he (Cuchulain) should show signs of yielding, to "excite
reproach and speak evil to me so that the ire of my rage and anger
should grow the more on me, but if he give ground before me thou shalt
laud me and praise me and speak good words to me that my courage may
be the greater," and this command his friend and charioteer punctually
executes.
The chariot itself is in many places graphically described. Here is
how its approach is pourtrayed in the Táin--
"It was not long," says the chronicler, "until Ferdiad's charioteer
heard the noise approaching, the clamour and the rattle, and the
whistling, and the tramp, and the thunder, and the clatter and the
roar, namely the shield-noise of the light shields, and the hissing
of the spears, and the loud clangour of the swords, and the tinkling
of the helmet, and the ringing of the armour, and the friction of
the arms; the dangling of the missive weapons, the straining of the
ropes, and the loud clattering of the wheels, and the creaking of the
chariot, and the trampling of the horses, and the triumphant advance
of the champion and the warrior towards the ford approaching him."
In the romance called the "Intoxication of the Ultonians," it is
mentioned that they drave so fast in the wake of Cuchulain, that "the
iron wheels of the chariots cut the roots of the immense trees."
Here is how the romancist describes the advance of such a body upon
Tara-Luachra.
"Not long were they there, the two watchers and the two druids, until
a full fierce rush of the first band broke hither past the glen.
Such was the fury with which they advanced that there was not left a
spear on a rack, nor a shield on a spike, nor a sword in an armoury
in Tara-Luachra that did not fall down. From every house on which was
thatch in Tara-Luachra it fell in immense flakes. One would think that
it was the sea that had come over the walls and over the corners of
the world upon them. The forms of countenances were changed, and there
was chattering of teeth in Tara-Luachra within. The two druids fell in
fits and in faintings and in paroxysms, one of them out over the wall
and the other over the wall inside."
On another occasion the approach of Cuchulain's chariot is thus
described--
"Like a mering were the two dykes which the iron wheels of Cuchulain's
chariot made on that day of the sides of the road. Like flocks of
dark birds pouring over a vast plain were the blocks and round sods
and turves of the earth which the horses would cast away behind them
against the ... of the wind. Like a flock of swans pouring over a vast
plain was the foam which they flung before them over the muzzles of
their bridles. Like the smoke from a royal hostel was the dust and
breath of the dense vapour, because of the vehemence of the driving
which Liag, son of Riangabhra, on that day gave to the two steeds of
Cuchulain."[7]
Elsewhere the chariot itself is described as "wythe-wickered, two
bright bronze wheels, a white pole of bright silver with a veining
of white bronze, a very high creaking body, having its firm sloping
sides ornamented with _cred_ (tin?), a back-arched rich golden yoke,
two rich yellow-peaked _alls_, hardened sword-straight axle-spindles."
Laeghaire's chariot is described in another piece as "a chariot
wythe-wickered, two firm black wheels, two pliant beautiful reins,
hardened sword-straight axle-spindles, a new fresh-polished body, a
back-arched rich silver-mounted yoke, two rich-yellow peaked _alls_ ...
a bird plume of the usual feathers over the body of the chariot."[8]
Descriptions like these are constantly occurring in the Irish tales,
and enable us to realise better the heroic period of warfare and
to fill up in our imagination many a long-regretted lacuna in our
knowledge of primitive Europe.
"Those philosophers," says Diodorus Siculus, a Greek writer of the
Augustan age, speaking of the Druids, "like the lyric poets called
bards, have a great authority both in affairs of peace and war,
friends and enemies listen to them. Also when the two armies are in
presence of one another and swords drawn and spears couched, they
throw themselves into the midst of the combatants and appease them
as though they were charming wild beasts. Thus even amongst the most
savage barbarians anger submits to the rule of wisdom, and the god of
war pays homage to the Muses."
To show that the manners and customs of the Keltoi or Celts of whom
Diodorus speaks were in this respect identical with those of their
Irish cousins (or brothers), and to give another instance of the warm
light shed by Irish literature upon the early customs of Western Europe
I shall convert the abstract into the concrete by a page or two from
an Irish romance, not an old one,[9] but one which no doubt preserves
many original traditionary traits. In this story Finn mac Cúmhail or
Cool[10] at a great feast in his fort at Allen asks Goll about some
tribute which he claimed, and is dissatisfied at the answer of Goll,
who may be called the Ajax of the Fenians. After that there arose a
quarrel at the feast, the rise of which is thus graphically pourtrayed--
"'Goll,' said Finn, 'you have acknowledged in that speech that you
came from the city of Beirbhé to the battle of Cnoca, and that you
slew my father there, and it is a bold and disobedient thing of you to
tell me that,' said Finn.
"'By my hand, O Finn,' said Goll, 'if you were to dishonour me as your
father did, I would give you the same payment that I gave Cool.'
"'Goll,' said Finn, 'I would be well able not to let that word pass
with you, for I have a hundred valiant warriors in my following for
every one that is in yours.'
"'Your father had that also,' said Goll, 'and yet I avenged my
dishonour on him, and I would do the same to you if you were to
deserve it of me.'
"White-skinned Carroll O Baoisgne[11] spake, and 't is what he said:
'O Goll,' said he, 'there is many a man,' said he, 'to silence you and
your people in the household of Finn mac Cúmhail.'
"Bald cursing Conan mac Morna spake, and 't is what he said, 'I swear
by my arms of valour,' said he, 'that Goll, the day he has least men,
has a man and a hundred in his household, and not a man of them but
would silence you.'
"'Are you one of those, perverse, bald-headed Conan?' said Carroll.
"'I am one of them, black-visaged, nail-torn, skin-scratched,
little-strength Carroll,' says Conan, 'and I would soon prove it to
you that Cúmhail was in the wrong.'
"It was then that Carroll arose, and he struck a daring fist, quick
and ready, upon Conan, and there was no submission in Conan's answer,
for he struck the second fist on Carroll in the middle of his face and
his teeth."
Upon this the chronicler relates how first one joined in and then
another, until at last all the adherents of Goll and Finn and even the
captains themselves are hard at work. "After that," he adds, "bad was
the place for a mild, smooth-fingered woman or a weak or infirm person,
or an aged, long-lived elder." This terrific fight continued "from the
beginning of the night till the rising of the sun in the morning," and
was only stopped--just as Diodorus says battles were stopped--by the
intervention of the bards.
"It was then," says the romancist, "that the prophesying poet of the
pointed words, that guerdon-full good man of song, Fergus Finnbheóil,
rose up, and all the Fenians' men of science along with him, and they
sang their hymns and good poems, and their perfect lays to those
heroes to silence and to soften them. It was then they ceased from
their slaughtering and maiming, on hearing the music of the poets,
and they let their weapons fall to earth, and the poets took up their
weapons and they went between them, and grasped them with the grasp of
reconciliation."
When the palace was cleared out it was found that 1,100 of Finn's
people had been killed between men and women, and eleven men and fifty
women of Goll's party.
Cæsar speaks of the numbers who frequented the schools of the druids
in Gaul; "it is said," he adds, "that they learn there a great number
of verses, and that is why some of those pupils spend twenty years in
learning. It is not, according to the druids, permissible to entrust
verses to writing although they use the Greek alphabet in all other
affairs public and private." Of this prohibition to commit their verses
to paper, we have no trace, so far as I know, in our literature,
but the accounts of the early bardic schools entirely bear out the
description here given of them by Cæsar, and again shows the solidarity
of custom which seems to have existed between the various Celtic
tribes. According to our early manuscripts it took from nine to twelve
years for a student to take the highest degree at the bardic schools,
and in many cases where the pupil failed to master sufficiently the
subjects of the year, he had probably to spend two over it, so that
it is quite possible that some might spend twenty years over their
learning. And much of this learning was, as Cæsar notes, in verse.
Many earlier law tracts appear to have been so, and even many of the
earliest romances. There is a very interesting account extant called
the "Proceedings of the Great Bardic Association," which leads up to
the Epic of the Táin Bo Chuailgne, the greatest of the Irish romances,
according to which this great tale was at one time lost, and the great
Bardic Institution was commanded to hunt for and recover it. The fact
of it being said that the perfect tale was lost for ever "and that only
a fragmentary and broken form of it would go down to posterity" perhaps
indicates, as has been pointed out by Sullivan, "that the filling up
the gaps in the poem by prose narrative is meant." In point of fact
the tale, as we have it now, consists half of verse and half of prose.
Nor is this peculiar to the Táin. Most of the oldest and many of the
modern tales are composed in this way. In most cases the verse is of
a more archaic character and more difficult than the prose. In very
many an expanded prose narrative of several pages is followed by a more
condensed poem saying the same thing. So much did the Irish at last
come to look upon it as a matter of course that every romance should
be interspersed with poetry, that even writers of the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries who consciously invented their stories as a modern
novelist invents his, have interspersed their pieces with passages, in
verse, as did Comyn in his Turlough mac Stairn, as did the author of
the Son of Ill-counsel, the author of the Parliament of Clan Lopus,
the author of the Women's Parliament, and others. We may take it,
then, that in the earliest days the romances were composed in verse
and learned by heart by the students--possibly before any alphabet
was known at all; afterwards when lacunæ occurred through defective
memory on the part of the reciter he filled up the gaps with prose.
Those who committed to paper our earliest tales wrote down as much of
the old poetry as they could recollect or had access to, and wrote the
connecting narrative in prose. Hence it soon came to pass that if a
story pretended to any antiquity it had to be interspersed with verses,
and at last it happened that the Irish taste became so confirmed to
this style of writing that authors adopted it, as I have said, even in
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
In spite of the mythological and phantastic elements which are
undoubtedly mingled with the oldest sagas,
"the manners and customs in which the men of the time lived and moved,
are depicted," writes Windisch,[12] "with a naïve realism which leaves
no room for doubt as to the former actuality of the scenes depicted.
In matter of costume and weapons, eating and drinking, building and
arrangement of the banqueting-hall, manners observed at the feast,
and much more, we find here the most valuable information." "I insist
upon it," he says in another place, "that Irish saga is the only
richly-flowing source of unbroken Celtism."
All the remaining linguistic monuments of Breton, Cornish, and Welsh,
"would form," writes M. d'Arbois de Jubainville,
"un ensemble bien incomplet et bien obscur sans la lumière que la
littérature irlandaise projette sur ces débris. C'est le vieil
irlandais qui forme le trait d'union pour ainsi dire entre les
dialectes neo-celtiques de la fin du moyen âge ou des temps modernes,
et le Gaulois des inscriptions lapidaires, des monnaies, des noms
propres conservés par la littérature grecque et la littérature
romaine."[13]
It may, then, be finally acknowledged that those of the great nations
of to-day, whose ancestors were mostly Celts, but whose language,
literature, and traditions have completely disappeared, must, if they
wish to study their own past, turn themselves first to Ireland.
When we find so much of the brief and scanty information given us by
the classics, not only borne out, but amply illustrated by old Irish
literature, when we find the dry bones of Posidonius and Cæsar rise up
again before us with a ruddy covering of flesh and blood, it is not too
much to surmise that in other matters also the various Celtic races
bore to each other a close resemblance.
Much more could be said upon this subject, as that the four Gallo-Roman
inscriptions to Brigantia found in Great Britain are really to the
Goddess Brigit;[14] that the Brennus who burned Rome 390 years before
Christ and the Brennus who stormed Delphi 110 years later were only the
god Brian, under whose tutelage the Gauls marched; and that Lugudunum,
Lugh's Dún or fortress, is so-called from the god Lugh the Long-handed,
to whom two Celtic inscriptions are found, one in Spain and one in
Switzerland, as may be seen set forth at length in the volumes of
Monsieur d'Arbois de Jubainville.
[1] "Ich sehe daher keinen genügenden Grund daran zu zweifeln dass uns
in den Einzelsagen wirklich echte Bilder einer _vorchristlichen_ Cultur
erhalten sind, allerdings Bilder die an einigen Stellen verblasst, an
andern von spaterer Hand übermalt sind" ("Irische Texte," 1., p. 253).
[2] "Nur eine Afterkritik die den handgreiflichsten Unsinn durch den
mittelirische Schreiber des 12-16 Jahrh. sich am eigenem Altherthum
versündigen das ihnen in mancher Hinsicht fremd ist für urfängliche
Weisheit hält, nun eine solche Kritik kann, umgekehrt den Versuch
machen an dem historischen Character der Hauptperson beider Sagenkreise
zu zweifeln," etc. ("Kelt-Studien," Heft. II., p. 189).
[3] "Introduction à l'étude de la littérature celtique," p. 217.
[4] Preface to "L'Épopée Celtique en Irlande."
[5] This name is written Concobar in the ancient texts, and Conchúbhair
in the modern language, pronounced Cun-hoo-ar or Cun-hoor, whence the
Anglicised form Conor. The "b" was in early times pronounced, but
there are traces of its being dropped as early as the twelfth century,
though with that orthographical conservatism which so distinguishes the
Irish language, it has been preserved down to the present day. Zimmer
says he found it spelt Conchor in the twelfth-century book the Liber
Landavensis. From this the form Crochor ("cr" for "cn" as is usual in
Connacht) followed, and the name is now pronounced either _Cun-a-char_
or _Cruch-oor._
[6] The reminiscence of the hero-bit appears to have lingered on in
folk memory. A correspondent, Mr. Terence Kelly, from near Omagh, in
the county Tyrone, tells me that he often heard a story told by an old
shanachie and herb-doctor in that neighbourhood who spoke a half-Scotch
dialect of English, in which the hero-bit figured, but it had fallen
in magnificence, and was represented as bannocks and butter with some
minor delicacies.
[7] _See_ "Revue Celtique," vol. xiv. p. 417, translated by Whitley
Stokes.
[8] Leabhar na h-Uidhre, p. 122, col. 2, translated by Sullivan,
"Manners and Customs," vol. i. p. cccclxxviii.
[9] In Irish Fionn mac Cúmhail, pronounced "Finn (or Fewn in Munster),
mac Coo-wil" or "Cool."
[10] I translated this from manuscript in my possession made by one
Patrick O'Pronty (an ancestor, I think, of Charlotte Brontë) in 1763.
Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady has since published a somewhat different
text of it.
[11] Pronounced "Bweesg-na," the triphthong _aoi_ is always pronounced
like _ee_ in Irish.
[12] "Irische Texte," 1., p. 252.
[13] "Études grammaticales sur les langues Celtiques," 1881, p. vii.
[14] _See_ above pp. 53 and 161.