MISCELLANEOUS ROMANCE
In addition to the stories that centre round Cuchulain and round
Finn there are a number of miscellaneous ones dealing with episodes
or characters in Irish history; some are in short groups or minor
cycles, but others are completely independent tales. All are built
upon lines similar to those which we have been considering, and they
are composed for the most part in a mixture of both verse and prose.
Some of these sagas deal with pre-Christian times, and others with the
early mediæval period. Very few, if any, deal with post-Danish and
still fewer with post-Norman subjects. The seventh century was the
golden era of the Irish saga, and nothing that the race did in later
times improved on it. Out of the hundred and eighty-seven stories whose
names are preserved in the Book of Leinster, in a list which must have
been, as D'Arbois de Jubainville points out, drawn up in the seventh
century, about one hundred and twenty seem to have utterly perished.
Of the others--many of which, however, are preserved only in the
baldest and most condensed form--some four or five relate to the Fenian
Cycle, some eighteen are Red Branch stories, and some eight or nine,
mostly preserved in the colourless digests of the Book of Invasions,
are mythological. About twenty-one of the others belong to minor
groups, or are miscellaneous single tales. Some of them are of the
highest interest and antiquity. Of these the storming of the Bruidhean
[Bree-an] or Court of Dá Derga is, after the Táin Bo Chuailgne,
probably the oldest and most important saga in the whole range of Irish
literature.
These two stories substantially dating from the seventh century, and
perhaps formed into shape long before that time, are preserved in the
oldest miscellaneous MSS. which we possess, and throw more light upon
pagan manners, customs, and institutions than perhaps any other.[1]
The period in which the Court-of-Dá-Derga story is laid is about
coincident with that of the Red Branch Cycle, only it does not deal
with Emania, and the Red Branch, but with Leinster, Tara, and the
High-king of Erin, who was there resident. The High-king at this time
was the celebrated Conairè the "Great," and rightly, if we may believe
our Annals, was he so called, for he had been a just, magnanimous, and
above all fortunate ruler of all Ireland for fifty years.[2] So just
was he, and so strict, that he had sent into banishment a number of
lawless and unworthy persons who troubled his kingdom. Among these
were his own five foster brothers whom he was reluctantly compelled
to send into exile along with the others. These people all turned
to piracy, and plundered the coasts of England, Scotland, and even
Ireland, wherever they found an opportunity of making a successful
raid upon the unarmed inhabitants.[3] It so happened that the son
of the King of Britain, one Ingcel, also of Irish extraction, had
been banished by his father for his crimes, and was now making his
living in much the same way as the predatory Irishmen. These two
parties having met, being drawn together by a fellow-feeling and their
common lawlessness, struck up a friendship, and made a league with
one another, thus doubling the strength of each. Soon after this the
High-king found himself in Clare, called thither to settle, according
to his wont, some dispute between rival chiefs. His business ended, he
was leisurely taking his way with his retinue back to his royal seat
at Tara, when on entering the borders of Meath he beheld the whole
country in the direction of his city a sheet of flame and rolling
smoke. Terrified at this, and divining that the banished pirates had
made a descent on his capital during his absence, he turned aside and
took the great road that, leading from Tara to Dublin, passed thence
into the heart of Leinster. Pursuing this road the King crossed the
Liffey in safety and made for the Bruighean [Bree-an] or Court of Dá
Derg on the road close to the river Dothar or Dodder, called ever since
Boher-na-breena,[4] the "road of the Court," close to Tallacht, not
far from Dublin. This was one of the six great courts of universal
hospitality[5] in Erin, and Dá Derg, its master, was delighted and
honoured by the visit from the High-king.
The pirates having plundered Tara, took to their vessels, and having
laden them with their spoils were now under a favourable breeze running
along the sea coast towards the Hill of Howth, when they perceived
from afar the King's company making in their chariots for Dublin along
the great high road. One of his own foster brothers was the first to
recognise that it was the High-king who was there. He was kept in view
and seen at last to enter Dá Derg's great court of hospitality. The
pirates ran their ships ashore to the south of the Liffey, and Ingcel
the Briton set off as a spy to examine the court and the number of
armed men about it; to see if it might not be possible to surprise
and plunder it during the night. On his return he is questioned by
his companions as to what he saw, and by this simple device--familiar
to all poets from Homer down--we are introduced to the principal
characters of his court, and are shown what the retinue of a High-king
consisted of in the sixth or seventh century, about which time the
saga probably took definite shape on parchment, or in the second or
third century if we are to suppose the traits to be more archaic than
the composition of the tale. We have here a minute account of the
King and the court and the company, with their costumes, insignia,
and appearance. We see the King and his sons, his nine pipers or
wind-instrument players, his cupbearers, his chief druid-juggler,
his three principal charioteers, their nine apprentice charioteers,
his hostages the Saxon princes, his equerries and outriders, his
three judges, his nine harpers, his three ordinary jugglers, his
three cooks, his three poets, his nine guardsmen, and his two private
table attendants. We see Dá Derg, the lord of the court, his three
doorkeepers, the British outlaws, and the king's private drink-bearers.
Here is the description of the King himself--
"'I saw there a couch,'[6] continued Ingcel, 'and its ornamentation
was more beautiful than all the other couches of the Court, it is
curtained round with silver cloth, and the couch itself is richly
ornamented. I saw three persons on it. The outside two of them were
fair both hair and eyebrows, and their skin whiter than snow. Upon the
cheek of each was a beautiful ruddiness. Between them in the middle
was a noble champion. He has in his visage the ardour and action of
a sovereign, and the wisdom of an historian. The cloak which I saw
upon him can be likened only to the mist of a May morning. A different
colour and complexion are seen on it each moment, more splendid than
the other is each hue. I saw in the cloak in front of him a wheel
broach of gold, that reaches from his chin to his waist. Like unto the
sheen of burnished gold is the colour of his hair. Of all the human
forms of the world that I have seen his is the most splendid.[7] I saw
his gold-hilted sword laid down near him. There was the breadth of a
man's hand of the sword exposed out of the scabbard. From that hand's
breadth the man who sits at the far end of the house could see even
the smallest object by the light of that sword.[8] More melodious is
the melodious sound of that sword than the melodious sounds of the
golden pipes which play music in the royal house.... The noble warrior
was asleep with his legs upon the lap of one of the men, and his head
in the lap of the other. He awoke up afterwards out of his sleep and
spake these words--
"'"I have dreamed of danger-crowding phantoms,
A host of creeping treacherous enemies,
A combat of men beside the Dodder,
And early and alone the King of Tara was killed."'"
This man whom Ingcel had seen was no other than the High-king.
The account of the juggler is also curious--
"'I saw there,' continued Ingcel, 'a large champion in the middle
of the house. The blemish of baldness was upon him. Whiter than the
cotton of the mountains is every hair that grows upon his head. He
had ear-clasps of gold in his ears and a speckled white cloak upon
him. He had nine swords in his hand and nine silvery shields and nine
balls of gold. He throws every one of them up into the air and not one
falls to the ground, and there is but one of them at a time upon his
palm, and like the buzzing of bees on a beautiful day was the motion
of each passing the other.'
"'Yes,' said Ferrogain [the foster brother], 'I recognise him, he
is Tulchinne, the Royal druid of the King of Tara; he is Conairè's
juggler,[9] a man of great power is that man.'"
Dá Derg himself is thus described--
"'I saw another couch there and one man on it, with two pages in front
of him, one fair, the other black-haired. The champion himself had red
hair and had a red cloak near him. He had crimson cheeks and beautiful
deep blue eyes, and had on him a green cloak. He wore also a white
under-mantle and collar beautifully interwoven, and a sword with an
ivory hilt was in his hand, and he supplies every couch in the Court
with ale and food, and he is incessant in attending upon the whole
company. Identify that man.'
"'I know that man,' said he, 'that is Da Derg himself. It was by him
the Court was built, and since he has taken up residence in it, its
doors have never been closed except on the side to which the wind
blows; it is to that side only that a door is put. Since he has taken
to house-keeping his boiler has never been taken off the fire, but
continues ever to boil food for the men of Erin. And the two who are
in front of him are two boys, foster sons of his, they are the two
sons of the King of Leinster.'"
Not less interesting is the true Celtic hyperbole in Ingcel's
description of the jesters: "I saw then three jesters at the fire.
They wore three dark grey cloaks, and if all the men of Erin were in
one place and though the body of the mother or the father of each man
of them were lying dead before him, not one of them could refrain from
laughing at them."
In the end the pirates decide on making their attack. They marched
swiftly and silently across the Dublin mountains, surrounded and
surprised the court, slew the High-king caught there, as in a trap, and
butchered most of his attendants.
After this tale of Dá Derg come a host of sagas, all calling for
a recognition, which with our limited space it is impossible to
grant them. Of these one of the most important, though neither the
longest nor the most interesting, is the account of the Boromean or
Boru tribute, a large fragment of which is preserved in the Book of
Leinster, a MS. of about the year 1150.
When Tuathal or Toole, called Techtmhar, or the Possessor, was
High-king of Ireland, at the close of the first century, he had two
handsome daughters, and the King of Leinster asked one of them in
marriage and took and brought home to his palace the elder as his wife.
This was as it should be, for at that time it was not customary for the
younger to be married "before the face of the elder." The Leinster men,
however, said to their king that he had left behind the better girl of
the two. Nettled at this the King went again to Tara and told Tuathal
that his daughter was dead and asked for the other. The High-king
then gave him his second daughter, with the courteous assurance "had
I one and fifty daughters they were thine." When he brought back the
second daughter to his palace in Leinster she, like another Philomela,
discovered her sister alive and before her. Both died, one of shame
the other of grief. When news of this reached Tara steps were taken to
punish the King of Leinster. Connacht and Ulster led a great hosting
with 12,000 men into Leinster to plunder it. The High-king too marched
from Tara through Maynooth to Naas and encamped there. The Leinstermen
were at first successful; they beat the Ultonians and killed their
prince; but at last all the invading forces having combined defeated
them and slew the bigamist king. They then levied the blood-tax, which
was as follows:--Fifteen thousand cows, fifteen thousand swine, fifteen
thousand wethers, the same number of mantles, silver chains, and copper
cauldrons, together with one great copper reservoir to be set up in
Tara's house itself, in which would fit twelve pigs and twelve kine. In
addition to this they had to pay thirty red-eared cows with calves of
the same colour, with halters and spancels of bronze and bosses of gold.
The consequences of this unfortunate tribute were to the last degree
disastrous for Ireland. The High-kings of Ireland continued for ages
to levy it off Leinster, and the Leinstermen continued to resist.
The Fenians took part in the conflict, for they followed Finn mac
Cúmhail in behalf of the men of Leinster against their own master the
High-king. The tribute continued to be levied, off and on, during the
reigns of forty kings, whenever Leinster seemed too weak to resist, or
whenever the High-king deemed himself strong enough to raise it: until
King Finnachta at last remitted it at the close of the seventh century,
at the request of St. Molling.[10]
"It is beyond the testimony of angels,
It is beyond the word of recording saints,
All the kings of the Gaels
That make attack upon Leinster."[11]
Of course the unfortunate province, thus plundered during generations,
lost in some measure its nationality, and no doubt it was partly owing
to this that it seemed more ready than any other district to ally
itself with the Danes. The great Brian is said to have gained his
title of Borumha or Boru through his having reimposed the tribute on
Leinster, but though he conquered that province and plundered it, I
am aware of no good authority for his actually re-imposing the Boru
tribute.
Some of the early saints' lives, too, may be considered as belonging
almost as much to historico-romantic as to hagiological literature.
From one of these, at least, we must give an extract, so that this
voluminous side of Irish literature may not remain unrepresented.
Here is a fragment of the life of St. Ceallach [Kal-lach] which is
preserved in that ample repository of ecclesiastical lore the Leabhar
Breac, a great vellum manuscript written shortly after the year 1400.
The story[12] deals with the dispute between Guairé [Goo-ǎr-yǎ], a
well-known king of Connacht, and St. Ceallach, the latter of whom had
during his student life left St. Ciaran and his studies, and thus drawn
down upon himself the prediction of that great saint that he would die
by point of weapon.
Guairé having banished Ceallach, against whom his mind had been
poisoned by lying tongues, the fugitive took refuge in an island in
Loch Con, where he remained for a long time. Guairé, still excited
against him through the lies of go-betweens, invited him to a feast
with intent to kill him. He refuses however to go. The King's
messengers then requested him to at least allow his four condisciples,
the only ones who had remained with him in his solitude, to go with
them to the feast, saying that they would bear the king's messages to
him when they returned. "I will neither prevent them from going nor
yet constrain them to go," answered Ceallach, the result of which was
that the four condisciples returned along with the envoys, and the king
was greatly pleased to see them come, and meat and drink, with good
welcome, were provided for them. After this the saga proceeds.
DEATH OF CEALLACH.
"Then a banqueting-house apart was set in order for them, and thither
for their use the fort's best liquor was conveyed. On Guairé's
either side were set two of them, and--with an eye to win them that
they might leave Ceallach--great gifts were promised to them; all
the country of Tirawley, four unmarried women such as themselves
should choose out of the province, and, with these, horses and kine,
sufficient marriage dowry for their wives (such gifts by covenant to
be secured to them), and an adequate equipment of arms to be furnished
to each one.
"That night they abode there, but, at the morning's meal, with one
accord they consented to kill Ceallach.
"Thence they departed to Loch Con, and where they had left the boat
they found it, and pulling off they reached Ceallach. They found him
with his psalter spread out before him, as he said the psalms, nor did
he speak to them. When he had made an end of his psalmody he looked at
them, and marked their eyes unsteady in their heads, and clouded with
the hue of parricide.
"'Young men,' said Ceallach, 'ye have an evil aspect, since ye went
from me your natures ye have changed, and I perceive in you that for
King Guairé's sake ye have agreed to murder me.'
"Never a tittle they denied, and he went on, 'An ill design it is,
but follow now no longer your own detriment, and from me shall be had
gifts, which far beyond all Guairé's promises shall profit you.'
"They rejoined, 'By no means shall we do as thou wouldst have us,
Ceallach, seeing that if we acted so, not in all Ireland might
we harbour anywhere.' And, even as they spoke, at Ceallach they
drave with their spears in unison; yet he made shift to thrust
his psalter in between him and his frock. They stowed him then in
the boat amidships, two of themselves in the bow, and so gained a
landing-place. Thence they carried him into the great forest and into
the dark recesses of the wood.
"Ceallach said: 'This that ye would do I count a wicked work indeed,
for in Clonmacnois [if ye spared me] ye might find shelter for ever,
or should it please you to resort rather to Bláthmac and to Dermot,
sons of Aedh Sláine, who is now King of Ireland [ye would be secure].'"
[_Then Ceallach utters a poem of twenty-four lines._]
"'To advise us further in the matter is but idle,' they retorted, 'we
will not do it for thee.'
"'Well then,' he pleaded, 'this one night's respite grant to me for
God's sake.'
"'Loath though we be to concede it, we will yield thee that,' they
said. Then they raised their swords which in their clothes they
carried hidden, and at the sight of them a mighty fear took Ceallach.
They ransacked the wood until they found a hollow oak having one
narrow entrance, and to this Ceallach was committed, they sitting at
the hole to watch him till the morning. They were so to the hour of
night's waning end, when drowsy longing came to them, and deep sleep
fell on them then.
"Ceallach, in trouble for his violent death, slept not at all, at
which time it was in his power to have fled had it so pleased him, but
in his heart he said that it were misbelief in him to moot evasion of
the living God's designs. Moreover, he reflected that even were he so
to flee they must overtake him, he being but emaciated and feeble,
after the Lent. Morning shone on them now, and he (for fear to see it
and in terror of his death) shut to the door, yet he said: 'to shirk
God's judgment is in me a lack of faith, Ciaran, my tutor, having
promised me that I must meet this end,' and as he spoke he flung open
the tree's door. The Raven called then, and the Scallcrow, the Wren,
and all the other birds. The Kite of Cluain-Eó's yew tree came, and
the red Wolf of Drum-mic-dar, the deceiver whose lair was by the
island's landing-place.
"'My dream of Wednesday's night last past was true,' said Ceallach,
'that four wild dogs rent me and dragged me through the bracken, and
that down a precipice I then fell, nor evermore came up,' and he
uttered this lay:--
"'HAIL to the Morning, that as a flame falls on the ground; hail to
Him, too, that sends her, the Morning many-virtued, ever-new![13]
"'O Morning fair, so full of pride, O sister of the brilliant Sun,
hail to the beauteous morning that lightest for me my little book!
"'Thou seest the guest in every dwelling, and shinest on every tribe
and kin; hail O thou white-necked beautiful one, here with us now,
golden-fair, wonderful!
"'My little book with chequered page tells me that my life has not
been right. Maelcróin, 't is he whom I do well to fear; he it is who
comes to smite me at the last.
"'O Scallcrow, and O Scallcrow, small grey-coated, sharp-beaked fowl,
the intent of thy desire is apparent to me, no friend art thou to
Ceallach.
"'O Raven that makest croaking, if hungry thou art now, O bird, depart
not from this same homestead until thou eatest a surfeit of my flesh!
"'Fiercely the Kite of Cluain-Eó's yew tree will take part in the
scramble, the full of his grey talons he will carry off, he will not
part from me in kindness.
"'To the blow [that fells me] the fox that is in the darkling wood
will make response at speed, he too in cold and trackless confines
shall devour a portion of my flesh and blood.
"'The wolf that is in the rath upon the eastern side of Drum-mic-dar,
he on a passing visit comes to me, that he may rank as chieftain of
the meaner pack.
"'Upon Wednesday's night last past I beheld a dream, I saw the wild
dogs dragging me together eastward and westward through the russet
ferns.
"'I beheld a dream, that into a green glen they took me, four there
were that bore me thither, but methought, ne'er brought me out again.
"'I beheld a dream, that to their house my condisciples brought me,
for me they poured out a drink, and to me did they a drink quaff.
"'O tiny Wren most scant of tail, dolefully hast thou piped prophetic
lay, surely thou art come to betray me and to curtail my gift of
life![14]
"'O Maelcróin and O Maelcróin, thou hast resolved upon an unrighteous
deed, for ten hundred golden ingots Owen's son[15] had ne'er consented
into thy death!
"'O Maelcróin and O Maelcróin, pelf it is that thou hast taken to
betray me; for this world's sake thou hast accepted it, accepted it
for the sake of hell!
"'All precious things that ever I had, all sleek-coated grey horses,
on Maelcróin I would have bestowed them, that he should not do me this
treason.
"'But Mary's great Son up above me, thus addresses speech to me,
"Thou must leave earth, thou shalt have heaven; welcome awaits thee,
Ceallach."'"
The saint is then, as soon as the morning had fully risen, taken out
of the tree by the four traitors, and put to death. The kite and the
wolf and the scallcrow tear his flesh. The remainder of what is really
a fine saga describes the hunt for the murderers and their final death
at the hands of Ceallach's brother, who wrested for himself all the
territory that Guairé had given them, marries Guairé's daughter, and
is, like Ceallach his brother, finally himself put to death by Guairé's
treachery.
It would be quite impossible within the limits of a volume like this
to give any adequate study of the evolution of Irish saga. All Irish
romances are compositions upon which more or less care had evidently
been bestowed, in ancient times, as is evidenced by their being
all shot through and through with verse. These verses amount to a
considerable portion of the saga, often to nearly a quarter or even a
third of the whole, and Irish versification is usually very elaborate,
and not the work of any mere inventor or story-teller, but of a
highly-trained technical poet. Very few pieces indeed, and these mostly
of the more modern Fenian tales, are written in pure prose. It may be
that the reciter of the ancient sagas actually _sang_ these verses,
or certainly gave them in a different tone from the prose narrative
with which he filled up the gap between them. Whether the same man was
both the composer of the verse and the framer of the prose narrative,
in each particular story, is a difficult question to answer, but I
should think that in most cases, at least in the older saga, incidents
had been taken up by the bards and poets as themes for their verses,
for perhaps ages before they were brought together by somebody and
woven into one complete épopée with a prose intermixture. Dr. Sullivan
thought that the Táin Bo Chuailgne was all originally written in verse,
and has his own interpretation for the account given in the curious
tale, the "Proceedings of the Great Bardic Institution," which tells us
that the story was at one time lost, and that the Bardic Association
was commanded to search for and recover it. This, according to him,
meant that the verses had been lost, and that only a fragmentary form
of it had been saved, the gaps being filled with prose. I do not quite
know how far this is a probable suggestion, because it would appear
to be reversing the processes which produce epic poetry in other
literatures. The complete versified epic, the Iliad, the Odyssey, the
Mahābhārata, are indeed "the hatch and brood of time," embodying not
the first but the _last_ results of a long series of national poetry.
But to this last result, so close to them, so easily attainable, the
Irish never arrived, and hence the various ballads that compose the
books of their Red Branch Iliad, or Fenian Odyssey, remains separate to
this day, and find their unity, if at all, only by means of a bridge
of prose thrown across from poem to poem, by men who were not poets.
Had the internal development of the Irish not been so rudely arrested
by the Northmen towards the close of the eighth and the beginning of
the ninth century, there is every reason to believe that both the Red
Branch and the Fenian Cycle would have undergone a further development
and appeared in poems of continuous verse.
The poems with which these sagas are intermixed are mostly of two
kinds, one kind, speeches in the form of lays, placed in the mouths of
the actors, prefaced by such words as "and he sang," "so that he spake
the lay," or the like, and the other kind, which occurs less often, is
as it were a _résumé_ in verse of what had been just told in prose.
In almost every case I should imagine that the narrative poems are
the oldest, and of them the prose is not unfrequently, as it were, an
explanation and an extension.
That the Irish had already made some approach to the construction
of a great epic is evident from the way in which they attempted,
from a very early date, to group a number of minor sagas, which were
evidently independent in their origin, round their great saga the Táin
Bo Chuailgne. There are twelve minor tales which the Irish called
preface-stories to the Táin and which they worked into it by links,
some of which, at least, were evidently forged long after the story
which they were wanted to connect. Especially remarkable in this way
is the story of the metempsychosis of the two swineherds, whose souls
passed into the two bulls who occasioned the great war of the Táin,--a
story which is of a distinctly independent origin, and which was forced
to do duty as an outlying book, as it were, of the Táin Bo Chuailgne.
How very great the number of Irish sagas must have been can be
conjectured from the fact that out of the list of one hundred and
eighty-seven contained in the Book of Leinster, at least one hundred
and twenty have completely disappeared, and of the majority of the
remainder we have only brief digests, whilst very many of the ones
still preserved, are not mentioned in the Book of Leinster at all,
thus proving that the list given in that manuscript is an imperfect
one. A perfect one would have contained at the very least two hundred
and fifty prime stories and one hundred secondary ones, for this was
the number which every ollamh or chief poet was obliged, by law, to
know. The following are some of the best known and most accessible
of the earlier sagas which we have not yet mentioned, and which do
not belong to any of the greater cycles. This list is drawn up, not
according to the age of the texts or the manuscripts which contain
them, but according to the date of the events to which they refer, and
round which they are constructed.
SIXTH CENTURY B.C--The destruction of Dinn Righ, otherwise called the
exile of Labhraidh [Lowry] the Mariner. This appears to have been one
of a group of lost romances which centred round the children of Ugony
the Great,[16] of some of which Keating has given a _résumé_ in his
history.[17]
SECOND CENTURY B.C--The King of the Leprechanes' journey to Emania,
and how the death of Fergus mac Léide, King of Ulster, was brought
about.[18]
The triumphs of Congal Clàringneach, which deals with a revolution in
the province of Ulster, the death of the King of Tara, and accession
of Congal to the throne.[19]
The Courtship of Etain by Eochaidh Aireach, King of Ireland, who came
to the throne 134 years B.C., according to the "Four Masters."[20]
FIRST CENTURY B.C.--The Courtship of Crunn's wife.[21] To this century
belong the Red Branch tales.
FIRST CENTURY A.D.--The Battle of Ath Comair, fought by the three
Finns, brothers of Mève, Queen of Connacht.[22]
The Destruction of the Bruidhean [Bree-an] Da Choga, in West Meath,
where Cormac Conloingeas, the celebrated son of King Conor mac Nessa,
was killed about the year 33.[23]
The Revolution of the Aitheach Tuatha, and the Death of Cairbré
Cinn-cait by the free clans of Ireland.[24]
SECOND CENTURY A.D.--The Death of Eochaidh [Yohy], son of Mairid.[25]
The progress of the Deisi from Tara.[26]
The Courtship of Moméra, by Owen Mór.[27] (The Fenian tales and tales
of Conn of the Hundred Battles, and Cormac mac Art, relate to this and
the following century.)
THIRD CENTURY.--The Adventures of Teig, son of Cian [Kee-an], son of
Oilioll Olum.[28]
The Siege of Drom Damhgaire, where Cormac mac Art attempted to lay a
double tribute on the two provinces of Munster.[29]
FOURTH CENTURY.--The History of the Sons of Eochaidh Muighmheadhon
[Mwee-va-on] father of Niall of the Nine Hostages.[30]
Death of King Criomhthann [Criv-ban or Criffan] and of Eochaidh
Muighmheadhon's three sons.[31]
FIFTH CENTURY.--The Expedition or Hosting of Dáithi, the last pagan
king of Ireland, who was killed by lightning at the foot of the
Alps.[32]
SIXTH CENTURY.--Death of Aedh Baclamh.[33]
Death of King Diarmuid--he who was cursed by St. Ruadhan.[34]
The birth of Aedh [Ae] Sláine,[35] the son of Diarmuid, who came to
the throne in 595, according to the "Four Masters."
The Wooing of Becfola, in the reign of Aedh Sláine's son.[36]
The Voyage of the Sons of Ua Corra.[37]
SEVENTH CENTURY.--The Proceedings of the Great Bardic Institution.[38]
The Battle of Moyrath.[39]
Suibhne's Madness, a sequel to the last.[40]
The Feast of Dún na ngedh,[41] a preface tale to the Battle of Moyrath.
The Voyage of Snedgus and Mac Riaghla.[42]
The Love of Dubhlacha for Mongan.[43]
The Death of Maelfathartaigh, son of Ronán,[44] who was King of
Leinster about the year 610.
EIGHTH CENTURY.--The Voyage of Maelduin.[45]
There are very few sagas, indeed, which deal with events posterior to
the eighth century, and among those which do (like the stories about
Callaghan of Cashel and the Danes, or the Leeching of Cian's leg, which
relates to the reign of Brian Boru, or O'Donnell's Kerne, which seems
as late as the sixteenth century) there are not many whose literary
merits stand high. It is evident from this, that, apart from the poets,
almost all the genuine literary activity of Ireland centred around
the days of her freedom, and embraced a vast range of time, from the
mythical De Danann period down to the birth of Christ, and from that
to the eighth century, and that after this period and the invasions of
the Northmen and Normans, Irish national history produced few subjects
stimulating to the national muse; so that the literary production which
still continued, though in narrower channels and in feebler volume,
looked for inspiration not to contemporaneous history, but to the
glories of Tara, the exploits of Finn mac Cúmhail, and the past ages of
Irish greatness.
The number of sagas still surviving, though many of them are mere
skeletons, may be conjectured from the fact that O'Curry, in his
manuscript lectures on Irish history, quotes from or alludes to ninety
different tales, all of considerable antiquity, whilst M. d'Arbois de
Jubainville, in his "Essai d'un Catalogue de la littérature épique de
l'Irlande," gives the names of no less than about 540 different pieces.
[1] There is an almost complete copy of this saga in the Leabhar na
h-Uidhre. Like the Táin Bo Chuailgne, it has never been published in a
translation. The language is much harder and more archaic than that of
the Táin. I have principally drawn upon O'Curry's description of it,
for I can only guess at the meaning of a great part of the original.
Were all Europe searched the scholars who could give an adequate
translation of it might be counted on the fingers of both hands--if not
of one.
[2] According to the "Four Masters" he was slain in AM. 5161 [_i.e._,
43 B.C.], after a reign of seventy years. "It was in the reign of
Conairè," the "Four Masters" add, "that the Boyne annually cast its
produce ashore at Inver Colpa. Great abundance of nuts were annually
found upon the Boyne and the Buais. The cattle were without keeping
in Ireland in his reign on account of the greatness of the peace and
concord. His reign was not thunder-producing nor stormy. It was little
but the trees bent under the greatness of their fruit." It is from
Conairè the Ernaan tribes were descended. They were driven by the
Rudricians, _i.e._, the Ultonians of the Red Branch, into Munster, and
from thence they were driven by the race of Eber [the Mac Carthys, etc.
of Munster], into the western islands.
[3] It appears to have been partly in order to check raids like this,
that the High-kings maintained the Fenians a couple of centuries later,
for their chief duty was "to watch the harbours."
[4] A constant rendezvous for pedestrians and bicyclists from Dublin,
not one in ten thousand of whom knows the origin of the name or its
history.
[5] For a description of another of these courts _see_ above p. 355.
[6] Here is the original as given by O'Curry, "Manners and Customs,"
vol. iii. p. 141. This will show the exceeding difficulty of the
language: "Atcondarc and imdae acas bacáimiu acomthach oldáta imdada
in tigi olchena. Seolbrat nairgdidi impe acas cumtaige isin dimdae.
Atcondarc triar ninni," etc.
[7] Keating says that according to some Conairè reigned only 30 years.
[8] The allusion appears to be to a bright steel sword in an age of
bronze. Perhaps the music referred to means the vibration of the
steel when struck. The "Sword of light" is a common feature in Gaelic
folk-lore. Of course iron was common in Ireland centuries before this
time, but the primitive description of _Sword of light_, transmitted
itself from age to age.
[9] "Cleasamhnach," from _cleas_, "a trick," a living word still.
[10] _See_ above p. 236.
[11] Broccan's poem in the Book of Leinster translated by O'Neill
Russell, in an American periodical.
[12] Translated by Standish Hayes O'Grady in "Silva Gadelica," whose
vigorous rendering I have closely followed.
[13]
"Is mochean in maiten bán
No taed for lár, mar lasán,
Is mochean do'n té rusfói
In maiten buadach bithnói"
[14] Compare the legend of the wren's having betrayed the Irish to
the English, whence the universal pursuit of him made by boys on St.
Stephen's day.
[15] Ceallach himself.
[16] For him, _see_ above, p. 25.
[17] Some account of this saga is given in O'Curry's MS. Materials,
p. 256, and by Keating, p. 253, of O'Mahony's translation. The entire
saga is preserved in the Yellow Book of Lecan. My friend, the late
Father James Keegan, made me a translation of another version, which he
afterwards published in a St. Louis paper.
[18] Translated and edited by Standish Hayes O'Grady, p. 269 of his
"Silva Gadelica."
[19] Only one copy of this tale was known to O'Curry in 205, Hodges and
Smith, R. I. A.
[20] Edited without a translation by Windisch, in his "Irische Texte,"
i. p. 117, and referred to at length by O'Curry, "Manners and Customs,"
vol. ii. pp. 192-4; and summarised and examined by Alfred Nutt, in his
"Voyage of Bran." _See_ for this saga, p. 102, above.
[21] This was Macha who pronounced the curse on the Ultonians. _See_
above, ch. XXIV note 3. The story is preserved in the Harleian MS.
5280, British Museum.
[22] There is a long extract from this battle given by O'Curry in his
"Manners and Customs," vol. ii. pp. 261-3.
[23] Preserved in the Leabhar na h-Uidhre. _See_ O'Curry, "Manners and
Customs," vol. iii. p. 254. There is a full copy in H. 3. 18, T. C., D.
[24] In H. 3. 18, T. C., D. _See_ above, p. 27.
[25] Edited from the Leabhar na h-Uidhre by O'Beirne Crowe, in the
"Journal of the Royal Irish Historical and Archæological Association,
1870," and by Standish Hayes O'Grady, "Silva Gadelica," p. 265.
[26] _See_ O'Curry, "Manners and Customs," vol. ii. p. 205. I think
Kuno Meyer has translated this saga somewhere. _See_ p. 40.
[27] Published by O'Curry for the Celtic Society as an appendage to the
Battle of Moy Léana. _See_ above, p. 368.
[28] Translated by O'Grady, "Silva Gadelica," p. 385, and studied at
length by Alfred Nutt, in his "Voyage of Bran," vol. i. p. 201.
[29] _See_ O'Curry's "Manners and Customs," vol. ii. p. 212, and MS.
Materials p. 271. This saga is contained at length in the Book of
Lismore.
[30] Translated in O'Grady's "Silva Gadelica," p. 368. _Ibid._, p. 373.
[31] _Ibid.,_ p. 373.
[32] This is one of the tales in the Book of Leinster list. Modern
versions are common.
[33] _See_ above, ch. XVIII, note 6, translated in "Silva Gadelica," p.
70.
[34] _Ibid._, p. 76.
[35] _Ibid._, p. 88.
[36] A short tale, translated in "Silva Gadelica," p. 91.
[37] Translated in the "Revue Celtique."
[38] Published by Professor Connellan for the Ossianic Society in 1860,
vol. v.
[39] Published by O'Donovan in 1842 for the Irish Archæological Society.
[40] MS. 60, Hodges and Smith, R. I. A.
[41] Published by O'Donovan in 1842 for the Irish Archæological Society.
[42] Edited, with English translation, by Whitley Stokes, in "Revue
Celtique," vol. ix., and translated into modern Irish by Father
O'Growney in the "Gaelic Journal," vol. iv. p. 85, from the Yellow Book
of Lecan.
[43] Edited by Kuno Meyer in "Voyage of Bran," vol. i. p. 58, from
the Book of Fermoy. This version seems to have escaped the notice
of D'Arbois de Jubainville, who says in his "Essai d'un Catalogue,"
"Cette pièce parait perdue." I have in my own possession a copy in a
MS. written by a scribe named O'Mahon in the last century, which is at
least twice as long as that published by Kuno Meyer.
[44] The story of an Irish Hippolytus, whose death at his father's
hands is compassed by his step-mother, _spretæ injuria formæ_. O'Curry
mentions this tale, MS. Materials, p. 277. It is one of the stories in
the catalogue of the Book of Leinster, under the head of Tragedies.
Another Hippolytus story is that of the death of Comgan, son of the
King of the Decies, quoted by O'Curry, "Manners and Customs," vol. ii.
p. 204, but I do not know from what MS.
[45] Translated, but not very literally, by Joyce in his "Early
Celtic Romances," and by M. Lot in D'Arbois de Jubainville's "Épopée
Celtique," critically edited by Whitley Stokes in the "Revue Celtique,"
t. ix. p. 446, and x. pp. 50-95.