I will tell you the story of Beswarragal, said the old man of a hundred
years old.
There was a King of Ireland out walking one time with his Grand Adviser.
And they came to the side of a pool, and they saw in it a wild duck with
a flock of twelve young ones, and she was pushing and beating away one
of the young ones to make it leave the flock. ‘I wonder why is it the
bird is doing that?’ said the King. ‘It is the right thing, whenever
there is a family of twelve, to send one of them away to seek a fortune
for himself,’ says the Grand Adviser. ‘If that is so,’ says the King,
‘what way can I know which one of my sons must I send away?’ ‘I will
tell you that,’ says the Grand Adviser. ‘Let you watch them to-morrow
the time they are coming home from the school, and close the gate on
whichever one of them will be last, and let him be the one you will send
away.’ So the next day they watched the twelve sons coming from the
school, and the one that was last at the gate was the youngest of them
all. ‘Oh, give him another chance,’ says the King. So the next day they
watched again, and it was the same one, the youngest, that was last at
the gate; and the third day it was the same thing. ‘Oh,’ says the King,
‘it is worse to me the youngest to go than any two of the others.’ ‘You
need not mind that,’ says the Grand Adviser, ‘for I can tell you that
the life he will have will be a happy one.’ ‘I am content so,’ says the
King.
So the King sent for him then, and he gave him a purse of money that
would last him for ten years or for twenty years, and he bade him go
make a way for himself.
So the King’s son set out, and he travelled the roads till night time,
and he saw a cottage before him, and a light in it, and he opened the
door and went in, and all he saw in it was one old man. ‘A welcome
before you, King’s son,’ says the old man. ‘I thank you for that
welcome,’ says he; ‘but how is it you know me to be a King’s son?’ So
the old man showed him a sword that hung over the top of the door. ‘If
any man comes through that door,’ he says, ‘that is not a King’s son,
that sword will fall and will whip the head of him. And it is a good
time you came here,’ he said, ‘and you could have come at no better
time.’ ‘Why is that?’ says the young man. ‘There is a pool there
beyond,’ says the old man, ‘and one morning in the whole year, there
comes to it Beswarragal, that is the most beautiful woman of the whole
world, having her twelve waiting maids with her, and they go swimming in
that pool. And to-morrow is the day they are coming,’ he said, ‘and let
you hide yourself till they will go into the water, and Beswarragal will
be the last to strip, and let you take her clothes and hide them, and
she will not be able to go away, and whatever you will ask her she will
do it. And what you will ask of her is herself,’ he said.
[Illustration: BESWARRAGAL AND HER MAIDENS BATHE.]
So the young man went down to the pool, and Beswarragal and her twelve
beautiful waiting maids were in the water, and he took her clothes and
hid them. And when they were tired swimming they put their clothes on,
and then they turned to birds and they flew away, all but Beswarragal,
and she could not fly. So the King’s son came to her and he gave her the
clothes. ‘What will you give me now?’ says he. ‘I will give you anything
you will ask,’ says she. ‘I ask nothing but yourself,’ says he; ‘you to
marry me and to be my wife.’ ‘How will you go away with me and you not
able to fly?’ says she. But she put a loop of the chain she had about
his neck, and she took him by the hand and she flew away with him to a
garden, and she brought him into the gardener’s house. ‘And there is one
thing I have to tell you,’ she said; ‘you must never wonder at me or say
anything about me at all.’ ‘I will never do that,’ says he. And every
day she brought him food to the gardener’s house, and they lived
together there for a while.
(The old man of a hundred years was getting tired, and the old woman
that was his wife sent out the old woman sitting on the doorstep to get
him a glass of porter. The old man drank a sup of it, and then the story
went on.)
But at last one day she passed by him in the garden, and when he saw her
so beautiful he turned and he said to the gardener: ‘There was never a
lady so beautiful as mine in the whole world.’ ‘There never was,’ says
the gardener. ‘And you will be without her now,’ he says.
So the next morning Beswarragal brought him his breakfast, and, ‘Oh,’
she said, ‘why did you speak of me and wonder at me, for I must go away
from you now to Righ-na-Sluagh, and you will never see me again.’ ‘How
could I help wondering at you,’ he said, ‘and you so beautiful passing
by? And I will go following after you for ever,’ he said.
So she went away, and before she went she left five drops of honey on
his five fingers. And he left the garden, and went following after and
looking for her in every place.
He walked on all through the day, and at the fall of night he came to a
house that had but an old man in it. ‘God be with the company left me
to-day,’ says he. ‘What company was that?’ says the King’s son.
‘Beswarragal and her twelve young girls,’ says he. ‘That is the one I am
looking for,’ says the King’s son. ‘You never will get her,’ says the
old man. ‘But I will do this for you,’ he says; ‘I will give you a ball
when you leave this to-morrow, and you can go throwing it before you,
and if you can come up with it as fast as it goes, you will come to my
brother and he might help you.’
So after breakfast he took the ball, and he went throwing it and
following it through the day till he came to a house where the old man’s
brother was, and he went in. ‘God be with the company that left me
to-day—that was Beswarragal and her twelve young ladies,’ says the old
man. ‘She is the one I am looking for,’ says the King’s son. ‘You never
will get up to her,’ says the old man; ‘but I will do this for you,’ he
says. ‘There are twelve horses in the stable outside; and go into it,’
he says, ‘and take down the bridle you will see behind the stable door,
and shake it, and whatever horse will come and put its head in it, let
you get up on it, and it will bring you on the road she is gone.’ So
after breakfast in the morning he went out into the stable and got the
bridle and shook it, and a little _gioblacan_ of an Arabian horse came
running and put his head into it. ‘The devil’s welcome to you,’ says he,
‘and all the good horses there are in the stable!’ ‘He’ll answer you
well,’ says the old man, ‘and get up on him now. And are you a good
jock?’ he says. ‘I am,’ says the King’s son, and he got up on it. ‘Let
you leap that now,’ says the old man, and he turned the horse to where
there was a big estate-wall at the side of the place. ‘It is humbugging
you are,’ says the King’s son, ‘for there is no one would be able to
leap that wall.’ But the little Arabian of a horse rose off the ground,
and made the wild cat’s bow in the air, and he came down the other side
of the wall, but the King’s son fell on the ground. But he rose up again
and got up on the little horse. ‘We will make a start now,’ he says.
‘You will never get to the place where Beswarragal is,’ says the old
man, ‘for there is a place between this and it, and the birds that fly
high in the air fall down in ashes passing over that place, with all the
fire that is blazing up a mile high from it, and that is thrown up out
of it.’
The pony set out then, and the King’s son on his back, and away with
them till they came in sight of the fiery place. ‘Put your hand in my
ear,’ says the pony, ‘and take out a bottle that is in it, and you will
find food for yourself and white-water for myself in it.’ So he took the
bottle and he gave white-water to the horse, and he rubbed what was in
the bottle to its hoofs, and it made a great leap into the air and over
the fiery place, and pitched five miles on the other side, and nothing
harmed but that the hair was burned off its belly.
And where they pitched there was a little house, and an old woman in it,
and she gave them shelter for the night. And in the night seven men came
in, and some having but half a head, and some with their hands and their
arms cut off them. ‘Who are those and what happened them?’ said the
King’s son. ‘They are my own sons,’ says the old woman, ‘and every night
through seven years there are men coming in boats and fighting them, and
that leave them that way. And all they kill of them are alive again in
the morning,’ she said, ‘and they themselves will be healed again in the
morning as well as before.’ ‘I will go and kill them,’ says the King’s
son. So he went down to the boats and drove away the men.
Then he went on to a house that was within a quarter of a mile of the
house where Beswarragal was, and he asked lodging. ‘Why would you come
in here,’ says the man of the house, ‘and why wouldn’t you go where
everyone is going—to that big house beyond, where the wedding is going
to be?’ So he asked for a cook’s suit, and he put it on him, and he went
on to Beswarragal’s house, and there were hundreds and hundreds going
into it for her wedding. ‘Are you wanting a cook?’ says the King’s son
at the door. ‘He was never more wanted,’ said they, ‘and if there were
ten of them they would be welcome.’
So they sent him to the kitchen, and he asked the head cook for flour
and things to mix a cake, and he mixed it; and when he had it made ready
to bake he put the print of his five fingers on the top of it, and put
it in the oven. And when it was baked he put a cover over it and gave it
to the servants that were bringing up the dinner, and he said: ‘Give
that cake to Beswarragal and to no other one.’
So it was put before her on the table, and she took it to eat a bit of
it; and when she tasted it, and that she broke it and saw the five drops
of honey in it, she said: ‘Where is the man that made that cake? And
wherever he is send him up to me,’ she said. For she had found the five
drops of honey inside the cake.
So they went for him, and he asked leave to change his cook’s suit, and
they gave him that. And he came up and Beswarragal knew him, and she put
her arms about him. And the man that was to be her husband, he jumped
out of the window and broke his skull on the pavement.
[Illustration: BESWARRAGAL AND THE MAN WITH WINGS.]
So the King’s son and Beswarragal went away back to the garden; but it
wasn’t long till a man came that had wings and could fly, and he stooped
down and took up Beswarragal, as if she was a child, and brought her
away. The King’s son went following her then, and he went on till he
came to the man that had wings, and he asked her of him. ‘There was a
man came that could not fly, but that was a better man than myself,’
says he, ‘and he took her from me.’ So the King’s son went on till he
found that man, and he asked her of him. ‘There was a man came,’ he
said, ‘that had seven colours in his eyes, and that took her from me,’
he said.
So he went on till he came to the man that had seven colours in his eyes
and asked her of him. ‘She was brought away from me,’ says he, ‘by the
Queen of the Black Wood. And there is no one will be able to take her
out of her hands,’ he said.
So the King’s son went on, and he had no knowledge what way to get to
the Black Wood. And he was passing through a field, and a white _garran_
that was in the field spoke to him and said: ‘Get up now on my back, and
I will bring you as far as the stile that leads into the Black Wood. But
there is no one can go into it,’ he said, ‘because it is as dark as
night; and there is no one can face the strength of the Queen that is in
that wood.’
So the King’s son got up on the _garran_, and they went on till they
came to the road that was outside the Black Wood, and there was an old
man there was building a castle on a very large flagstone, and he asked
the King’s son where was he going, and he said he was going to bring
away his wife from the Queen of the Black Wood. ‘There is no one can do
that,’ says the old man, ‘unless it is the man that will put this castle
five yards off the flagstone, with one shove he will give it.’ So the
King’s son went at it, and he gave it one shove, and if he did he put
the castle eight yards from the flagstone. ‘Oh,’ says the old man when
he saw that, ‘I know you must be my sister’s son, for there is no one in
the whole world could do that unless my sister’s son.’ And he put his
arms about him and kissed him. And then he bade him to move the
flagstone and he did that, and there was a sword under it. ‘Take up that
sword,’ says the old man, ‘and be shaking it this way and that way. And
according as you will be shaking it, the strength will be going out of
the Queen of the Black Wood, and you can go to her when she is left
weak,’ he said.
So the King’s son did as he bade him, and by the time he came to the
Queen, all he had to do was to whip the head off her.
So he brought Beswarragal out of the wood, and they went back safe and
well again to the garden.
‘Is there any meaning in the name Beswarragal?’
‘Not a meaning; it was all the name ever she had, and it will be her
name ever and always.’
The old wife of the man of a hundred years, who had fallen asleep
listening, says to the old woman who was sitting on the doorstep. ‘Would
you say was there any meaning in the name?’ And she says, ‘I suppose she
was just an enchanted woman.’ ‘Ah,’ says the old man, ‘I’ll give you
three words that will bring you to Heaven as easy as walking out into
that street. And I will tell you now about the Seven Fishers.’
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