And they kept to their word, and spared no one. There was a

yellow-haired queen that Finn loved, Berach Brec her name was, and she

was wise and comely and worthy of any good man, and she had her house

full of treasures, and never refused the asking of any. And any one that

came to her house at Samhain time might stay till Beltaine, and have his

choice then to go or to stay. And the sons of Morna had fostered her,

and they went where she was and bade her to give up Finn and she need be

in no dread of them. But she said she would not give up her kind lover

to please them; and she was going away from them to her ship, and Art,

son of Morna, made a cast of his spear that went through her body, that

she died, and her people brought her up from the strand and buried her.

And as to Goll, he took a little hound that Finn thought a great deal

of, Conbeg its name was, and he drowned it in the sea; and its body was

brought up to shore by a wave afterwards, and it was buried under a

little green hill by the Fianna. And Caoilte made a complaint over it,

and he said how swift the little hound was after deer, or wild pigs, and

how good at killing them, and that it was a pity it to have died, out on

the cold green waves. And about that time, nine women of the Tuatha de

Danaan came to meet with nine men of the Fianna, and the sons of Morna

saw them coming and made an end of them.

And when Caoilte met with Goll, he made a cast of his spear at him that

struck the golden helmet off his head and a piece of his flesh along

with it. But Goll took it very proudly, and put on the helmet again and

took up his weapons, and called out to his brothers that he was no way

ashamed.

And Finn went looking for the sons of Morna in every place to do

vengeance on them. They were doing robbery and destruction one time in

Slieve Echtge, that got its name from Echtge, daughter of Nuada of the

Silver Hand, and Finn and the Fianna were to the west, at Slieve Cairn

in the district of Corcomruadh. And Finn was in doubt if the sons of

Morna were gone southward into Munster or north into Connacht. So he

sent Aedan and Cahal, two sons of the King of Ulster, and two hundred

righting men with them, into the beautiful pleasant province of

Connacht, and every day they used to go looking for the sons of Morna

from place to place. But after a while the three battalions of the

Fianna that were in Corcomruadh saw the track of a troop of men, and

they thought it to be the track of the sons of Morna; and they closed

round them at night, and made an end of them all. But when the full

light came on the morrow, they knew them to be their own people, that

were with the King of Ulster's sons, and they gave three great heavy

cries, keening the friends they had killed in mistake.

And Caoilte and Oisin went to Rath Medba and brought a great stone and

put it over the king's sons, and it was called Lia an Imracail, the

Stone of the Mistake. And the place where Goll brought his men the time

he parted from Finn in anger got the name of Druimscarha, the Parting

Hill of Heroes.

CHAPTER II. DEATH OF GOLL

And at last it chanced that Goll and Cairell, son of Finn, met with one

another, and said sharp words, and they fought in the sea near the

strand, and Cairell got his death by Goll. And there was great anger and

great grief on Finn, seeing his son, that was so strong and comely,

lying dead and grey, like a blighted branch.

And as to Goll, he went away to a cave that was in a point stretching

out into the sea; and he thought to stop there till Finn's anger would

have passed.

And Osgar knew where he was, and he went to see him, that had been his

comrade in so many battles. But Goll thought it was as an enemy he came,

and he made a cast of his spear at him, and though Osgar got no wound by

it, it struck his shield and crushed it. And Finn took notice of the way

the shield was, and when he knew that Goll had made a cast at Osgar

there was greater anger again on him. And he sent out his men and bade

them to watch every path and every gap that led to the cave where Goll

was, the way they would make an end of him.

And when Goll knew Finn to be watching for his life that way, he made no

attempt to escape, but stopped where he was, without food, without

drink, and he blinded with the sand that was blowing into his eyes.

And his wife came to a rock where she could speak with him, and she

called to him to come to her. "Come over to me," she said; "and it is a

pity you to be blinded where you are, on the rocks of the waste sea,

with no drink but the salt water, a man that was first in every fight.

And come now to be sleeping beside me," she said; "and in place of the

hard sea-water I will nourish you from my own breast, and it is I will

do your healing. And the gold of your hair is my desire for ever," she

said, "and do not stop withering there like an herb in the winter-time,

and my heart black with grief within me."

But Goll would not leave the spot where he was for all she could say.

"It is best as it is," he said, "and I never took the advice of a woman

east or west, and I never will take it. And O sweet-voiced queen," he

said, "what ails you to be fretting after me; and remember now your

silver and your gold, and your silks and stuffs, and remember the seven

hounds I gave you at Cruadh Ceirrge, and every one of them without

slackness till he has killed the deer. And do not be crying tears after

me, queen with the white hands," he said; "but remember your constant

lover, Aodh, the son of the best woman of the world, that came out from

Spain asking for you, and that I fought at Corcar-an-Deirg; and go to

him now," he said, "for it is bad when a woman is in want of a good

man."

And he lay down on the rocks, and at the end of twelve days he died. And

his wife keened him there, and made a great lamentation for her husband

that had such a great name, and that was the second best of the Fianna

of Ireland.

And when Conan heard of the death of Goll his brother, there was great

anger on him, and he went to Garraidh, and asked him to go with him to

Finn to ask satisfaction for Goll. "I am not willing to go," said

Garraidh, "since we could get no satisfaction for the great son of

Morna." "Whether you have a mind to go or not, I will go," said Conan;

"and I will make an end of every man I meet with, for the sake of

yellow-haired Goll; I will have the life of Oisin, Finn's great son, and

of Osgar and of Caoilte and of Daire of the Songs; I will have no

forgiveness for them; we must show no respect for Finn, although we may

die in the fight, having no help from Goll. And let us take that work in

hand, and make no delay," he said; "for if Finn is there, his strength

will be there, until we put him under his flag-stone."

But it is not likely Garraidh went with him, and he after speaking such

foolish words.

And what happened Conan in the end is not known. But there is a cairn of

stones on a hill of Burren, near to Corcomruadh, and the people of

Connacht say it is there he is buried, and that there was a stone found

there one time, having on it in the old writing: "Conan the

swift-footed, the bare-footed." But the Munster people say it is on

their own side of Burren he is buried.

CHAPTER III. THE BATTLE OF GABHRA

Now, with one thing and another, the High King of Ireland had got to be

someway bitter against Finn and the Fianna; and one time that he had a

gathering of his people he spoke out to them, and he bade them to

remember all the harm that had been done them through the Fianna, and

all their pride, and the tribute they asked. "And as to myself," he

said, "I would sooner die fighting the Fianna, if I could bring them

down along with me, than live with Ireland under them the way it is

now."

All his people were of the same mind, and they said they would make no

delay, but would attack the Fianna and make an end of them. "And we will

have good days of joy and of feasting," they said, "when once Almhuin is

clear of them."

And the High King began to make plans against Finn; and he sent to all

the men of Ireland to come and help him. And when all was ready, he sent

and bade Osgar to come to a feast he was making at Teamhair.

And Osgar, that never was afraid before any enemy, set out for Teamhair,

and three hundred of his men with him. And on the way they saw a woman

of the Sidhe washing clothes at a river, and there was the colour of

blood on the water where she was washing them. And Osgar said to her:

"There is red on the clothes you are washing; and it is for the dead you

are washing them." And the woman answered him, and it is what she said:

"It is not long till the ravens will be croaking over your own head

after the battle." "Is there any weakness in our eyes," said Osgar,

"that a little story like that would set us crying? And do another

foretelling for us now," he said, "and tell us will any man of our

enemies fall by us before we ourselves are made an end of?"

"There will nine hundred fall by yourself," she said; "and the High

King himself will get his death-wound from you."

Osgar and his men went on then to the king's house at Teamhair, and they

got good treatment, and the feast was made ready, and they were three

days at pleasure and at drinking.

And on the last day of the drinking, the High King called out with a

loud voice, and he asked Osgar would he make an exchange of spears with

him. "Why do you ask that exchange," said Osgar, "when I myself and my

spear were often with yourself in time of battle? And you would not ask

it of me," he said, "if Finn and the Fianna were with me now." "I would

ask it from any fighting man among you," said the king, "and for rent

and tribute along with it." "Any gold or any treasure you might ask of

us, we would give it to you," said Osgar, "but it is not right for you

to ask my spear." There were very high words between them then, and they

threatened one another, and at the last the High King said: "I will put

my spear of the seven spells out through your body." "And I give my word

against that," said Osgar, "I will put my spear of the nine spells

between the meeting of your hair and your beard."

With that he and his men rose up and went out of Teamhair, and they

stopped to rest beside a river, and there they heard the sound of a very

sorrowful tune, that was like keening, played on a harp. And there was

great anger on Osgar when he heard that, and he rose up and took his

arms and roused his people, and they went on again to where Finn was.

And there came after them a messenger from the High King, and the

message he brought was this, that he never would pay tribute to the

Fianna or bear with them at all from that time.

And when Finn heard that, he sent a challenge of battle, and he gathered

together all the Fianna that were left to him. But as to the sons of

Morna, it was to the High King of Ireland they gathered.

And it was at the hill of Gabhra the two armies met, and there were

twenty men with the King of Ireland for every man that was with Finn.

And it is a very hard battle was fought that day, and there were great

deeds done on both sides; and there never was a greater battle fought in

Ireland than that one.

And as to Osgar, it would be hard to tell all he killed on that day;

five score of the Sons of the Gael, and five score fighting men from the

Country of Snow, and seven score of the Men of Green Swords that never

went a step backward, and four hundred from the Country of the Lion, and

five score of the sons of kings; and the shame was for the King of

Ireland.

But as to Osgar himself, that began the day so swift and so strong, at

the last he was like leaves on a strong wind, or like an aspen-tree that

is falling. But when he saw the High King near him, he made for him like

a wave breaking on the strand; and the king saw him coming, and shook

his greedy spear, and made a cast of it, and it went through his body

and brought him down on his right knee, and that was the first grief of

the Fianna. But Osgar himself was no way daunted, but he made a cast of

his spear of the nine spells that went into the High King at the meeting

of the hair and the beard, and gave him his death. And when the men

nearest to the High King saw that, they put the king's helmet up on a

pillar, the way his people would think he was living yet. But Osgar saw

it, and he lifted a thin bit of a slab-stone that was on the ground

beside him, and he made a cast of it that broke the helmet where it was;

and then he himself fell like a king.

And there fell in that battle the seven sons of Caoilte, and the son of

the King of Lochlann that had come to give them his help, and it would

be hard to count the number of the Fianna that fell in that battle.

And when it was ended, those that were left of them went looking for

their dead. And Caoilte stooped down over his seven brave sons, and

every living man of the Fianna stooped over his own dear friends. And it

was a lasting grief to see all that were stretched in that place, but

the Fianna would not have taken it to heart the way they did, but for

being as they were, a beaten race.

And as to Oisin, he went looking for Osgar, and it is the way he found

him, lying stretched, and resting on his left arm and his broken shield

beside him, and his sword in his hand yet, and his blood about him on

every side. And he put out his hand to Oisin, and Oisin took it and gave

out a very hard cry. And Osgar said: "It is glad I am to see you safe,

my father." And Oisin had no answer to give him. And just then Caoilte

came where they were, and he looked at Osgar. "What way are you now, my

darling?" he said. "The way you would like me to be," said Osgar.

Then Caoilte searched the wound, and when he saw how the spear had torn

its way through to the back, he cried out, and a cloud came over him and

his strength failed him. "O Osgar," he said, "you are parted from the

Fianna, and they themselves must be parted from battle from this out,"

he said, "and they must pay their tribute to the King of Ireland."

Then Caoilte and Oisin raised up Osgar on their shields and brought him

to a smooth green hill till they would take his dress off. And there was

not a hands-breadth of his white body that was without a wound.

And when the rest of the Fianna saw what way Osgar was, there was not a

man of them that keened his own son or his brother, but every one of

them came keening Osgar.

And after a while, at noonday, they saw Finn coming towards them, and

what was left of the Sun-banner raised on a spear-shaft. All of them

saluted Finn then, but he made no answer, and he came up to the hill

where Osgar was. And when Osgar saw him coming he saluted him, and he

said: "I have got my desire in death, Finn of the sharp arms." And Finn

said: "It is worse the way you were, my son, on the day of the battle at

Beinn Edair when the wild geese could swim on your breast, and it was my

hand that gave you healing." "There can no healing be done for me now

for ever," said Osgar, "since the King of Ireland put the spear of seven

spells through my body." And Finn said: "It is a pity it was not I

myself fell in sunny scarce Gabhra, and you going east and west at the

head of the Fianna." "And if it was yourself fell in the battle," said

Osgar, "you would not hear me keening after you; for no man ever knew

any heart in me," he said, "but a heart of twisted horn, and it covered

with iron. But the howling of the dogs beside me," he said, "and the

keening of the old righting men, and the crying of the women one after

another, those are the things that are vexing me." And Finn said: "Child

of my child, calf of my calf, white and slender, it is a pity the way

you are. And my heart is starting like a deer," he said, "and I am weak

after you and after the Fianna of Ireland. And misfortune has followed

us," he said; "and farewell now to battles and to a great name, and

farewell to taking tributes; for every good thing I ever had is gone

from me now," he said.

And when Osgar heard those words he stretched out his hands, and his

eyelids closed. And Finn turned away from the rest, and he cried tears

down; and he never shed a tear through the whole length of his lifetime

but only for Osgar and for Bran.

And all that were left of the Fianna gave three gorrowful cries after

Osgar, for there was not one of the Fianna beyond him, unless it might

be Finn or Oisin.

And it is many of the Fianna were left dead in Gabhra, and graves were

made for them. And as to Lugaidh's Son, that was so tall a man and so

good a fighter, they made a very wide grave for him, as was fitting for

a king. And the whole length of the rath at Gabhra, from end to end, it

is that was the grave of Osgar, son of Oisin, son of Finn.

And as to Finn himself, he never had peace or pleasure again from that

day.

BOOK TEN: THE END OF THE FIANNA.

CHAPTER I. DEATH OF BRAN

One day Finn was hunting, and Bran went following after a fawn. And they

were coming towards Finn, and the fawn called out, and it said: "If I go

into the sea below I will never come back again; and if I go up into the

air above me, it will not save me from Bran." For Bran would overtake

the wild geese, she was that swift.

"Go out through my legs," said Finn then. So the fawn did that, and Bran

followed her; and as Bran went under him, Finn squeezed his two knees on

her, that she died on the moment.

And there was great grief on him after that, and he cried tears down the

same as he did when Osgar died.

And some said it was Finn's mother the fawn was, and that it was to save

his mother he killed Bran. But that is not likely, for his mother was

beautiful Muirne, daughter of Tadg, son of Nuada of the Tuatha de

Danaan, and it was never heard that she was changed into a fawn. It is

more likely it was Oisin's mother was in it.

But some say Bran and Sceolan are still seen to start at night out of

the thicket on the hill of Almhuin.

CHAPTER II. THE CALL OF OISIN

One misty morning, what were left of the Fianna were gathered together

to Finn, and it is sorrowful and downhearted they were after the loss of

so many of their comrades.

And they went hunting near the borders of Loch Lein, where the bushes

were in blossom and the birds were singing; and they were waking up the

deer that were as joyful as the leaves of a tree in summer-time.

And it was not long till they saw coming towards them from the west a

beautiful young woman, riding on a very fast slender white horse. A

queen's crown she had on her head, and a dark cloak of silk down to the

ground, having stars of red gold on it; and her eyes were blue and as

clear as the dew on the grass, and a gold ring hanging down from every

golden lock of her hair; and her cheeks redder than the rose, and her

skin whiter than the swan upon the wave, and her lips as sweet as honey

that is mixed through red wine.

And in her hand she was holding a bridle having a golden bit, and there

was a saddle worked with red gold under her. And as to the horse, he had

a wide smooth cloak over him, and a silver crown on the back of his

head, and he was shod with shining gold.

She came to where Finn was, and she spoke with a very kind, gentle

voice, and she said: "It is long my journey was, King of the Fianna."

And Finn asked who was she, and what was her country and the cause of

her coming. "Niamh of the Golden Head is my name," she said; "and I have

a name beyond all the women of the world, for I am the daughter of the

King of the Country of the Young." "What was it brought you to us from

over the sea, Queen?" said Finn then. "Is it that your husband is gone

from you, or what is the trouble that is on you?" "My husband is not gone

from me," she said, "for I never went yet to any man. But O King of the

Fianna," she said, "I have given my love and my affection to your own

son, Oisin of the strong hands." "Why did you give your love to him

beyond all the troops of high princes that are under the sun?" said

Finn. "It was by reason of his great name, and of the report I heard of

his bravery and of his comeliness," she said. "And though there is many

a king's son and high prince gave me his love, I never consented to any

till I set my love on Oisin."

When Oisin heard what she was saying, there was not a limb of his body

that was not in love with beautiful Niamh; and he took her hand in his

hand, and he said: "A true welcome before you to this country, young

queen. It is you are the shining one," he said; "it is you are the

nicest and the comeliest; it is you are better to me than any other

woman; it is you are my star and my choice beyond the women of the

entire world." "I put on you the bonds of a true hero," said Niamh then,

"you to come away with me now to the Country of the Young." And it is

what she said:

"It is the country is most delightful of all that are under the sun; the

trees are stooping down with fruit and with leaves and with blossom.

"Honey and wine are plentiful there, and everything the eye has ever

seen; no wasting will come on you with the wasting away of time; you

will never see death or lessening.

"You will get feasts, playing and drinking; you will get sweet music on

the strings; you will get silver and gold and many jewels.

"You will get, and no lie in it, a hundred swords; a hundred cloaks of

the dearest silk; a hundred horses, the quickest in battle; a hundred

willing hounds.

"You will get the royal crown of the King of the Young that he never

gave to any one under the sun. It will be a shelter to you night and

day in every rough fight and in every battle.

"You will get a right suit of armour; a sword, gold-hilted, apt for

striking; no one that ever saw it got away alive from it.

"A hundred coats of armour and shirts of satin; a hundred cows and a

hundred calves; a hundred sheep having golden fleeces; a hundred jewels

that are not of this world.

"A hundred glad young girls shining like the sun, their voices sweeter

than the music of birds; a hundred armed men strong in battle, apt at

feats, waiting on you, if you will come with me to the Country of the

Young.

"You will get everything I have said to you, and delights beyond them,

that I have no leave to tell; you will get beauty, strength and power,

and I myself will be with you as a wife."

And after she had made that song, Oisin said: "O pleasant golden-haired

queen, you are my choice beyond the women of the world; and I will go

with you willingly," he said.

And with that he kissed Finn his father and bade him farewell, and he

bade farewell to the rest of the Fianna, and he went up then on the

horse with Niamh.

And the horse set out gladly, and when he came to the strand he shook

himself and he neighed three times, and then he made for the sea. And

when Finn and the Fianna saw Oisin facing the wide sea, they gave three

great sorrowful shouts. And as to Finn, he said: "It is my grief to see

you going from me; and I am without a hope," he said, "ever to see you

coming back to me again."

CHAPTER III. THE LAST OF THE GREAT MEN

And indeed that was the last time Finn and Oisin and the rest of the

Fianna of Ireland were gathered together, for hunting, for battle, for

chess-playing, for drinking or for music; for they all wore away after

that, one after another.

As to Caoilte, that was old and had lost his sons, he used to be

fretting and lonesome after the old times. And one day that there was

very heavy snow on the ground, he made this complaint:--

"It is cold the winter is; the wind is risen; the fierce high-couraged

stag rises up; it is cold the whole mountain is to-night, yet the fierce

stag is calling. The deer of Slievecarn of the gatherings does not lay

his side to the ground; he no less than the stag of the top of cold

Echtge hears the music of the wolves.

"I, Caoilte, and brown-haired Diarmuid and pleasant light-footed Osgar,

we used to be listening to the music of the wolves through the end of

the cold night. It is well the brown deer sleeps with its hide to the

hollow, hidden as if in the earth, through the end of the cold night.

"To-day I am in my age, and I know but a few men; I used to shake my

spear bravely in the ice-cold morning. It is often I put silence on a

great army that is very cold to-night."

And after a while he went into a hill of the Sidhe to be healed of his

old wounds. And whether he came back from there or not is not known; and

there are some that say he used to be talking with Patrick of the Bells

the same time Oisin was with him. But that is not likely, or Oisin would

not have made complaints about his loneliness the way he did.

But a long time after that again, there was a king of Ireland making a

journey. And he and his people missed their way, and when night-time

came on, they were in a dark wood, and no path before them.

And there came to them a very tall man, that was shining like a burning

flame, and he took hold of the bridle of the king's horse, and led him

through the wood till they came to the right road. And the King of

Ireland asked him who was he, and first he said: "I am your

candlestick"; and then he said: "I was with Finn one time." And the king

knew it was Caoilte, son of Ronan, was in it.

And three times nine of the rest of the Fianna came out of the west one

time to Teamhair. And they took notice that now they were wanting their

full strength and their great name, no one took notice of them or came

to speak with them at all. And when they saw that, they lay down on the

side of the hill at Teamhair, and put their lips to the earth and died.

And for three days and a month and a year from the time of the

destruction of the Fianna of Ireland, Loch Dearg was under mists.

* * * * *

And as to Finn, there are some say he died by the hand of a fisherman;

but it is likely that is not true, for that would be no death for so

great a man as Finn, son of Cumhal. And there are some say he never

died, but is alive in some place yet.

And one time a smith made his way into a cave he saw, that had a door to

it, and he made a key that opened it. And when he went in he saw a very

wide place, and very big men lying on the floor. And one that was bigger

than the rest was lying in the middle, and the Dord Fiann beside him;

and he knew it was Finn and the Fianna were in it.

And the smith took hold of the Dord Fiann, and it is hardly he could

lift it to his mouth, and he blew a very strong blast on it, and the

sound it made was so great, it is much the rocks did not come down on

him. And at the sound, the big men lying on the ground shook from head

to foot. He gave another blast then, and they all turned on their

elbows.

And great dread came on him when he saw that, and he threw down the Dord

Fiann and ran from the caye and locked the door after him, and threw the

key into the lake. And he heard them crying after him, "You left us

worse than you found us." And the cave was not found again since that

time.

But some say the day will come when the Dord Fiann will be sounded three

times, and that at the sound of it the Fianna will rise up as strong and

as well as ever they were. And there are some say Finn, son of Cumhal,

has been on the earth now and again since the old times, in the shape of

one of the heroes of Ireland.

And as to the great things he and his men did when they were together,

it is well they have been kept in mind through the poets of Ireland and

of Alban. And one night there were two men minding sheep in a valley,

and they were saying the poems of the Fianna while they were there. And

they saw two very tall shapes on the two hills on each side of the

valley, and one of the tall shapes said to the other: "Do you hear that

man down below? I was the second doorpost of battle at Gabhra, and that

man knows all about it better than myself."

BOOK ELEVEN: OISIN AND PATRICK.

CHAPTER I. OISIN'S STORY

As to Oisin, it was a long time after he was brought away by Niamh that

he came back again to Ireland. Some say it was hundreds of years he was

in the Country of the Young, and some say it was thousands of years he

was in it; but whatever time it was, it seemed short to him.

And whatever happened him through the time he was away, it is a withered

old man he was found after coming back to Ireland, and his white horse

going away from him, and he lying on the ground.

And it was S. Patrick had power at that time, and it was to him Oisin

was brought; and he kept him in his house, and used to be teaching him

and questioning him. And Oisin was no way pleased with the way Ireland

was then, but he used to be talking of the old times, and fretting after

the Fianna.

And Patrick bade him to tell what happened him the time he left Finn and

the Fianna and went away with Niamh. And it is the story Oisin

told:--"The time I went away with golden-haired Niamh, we turned our

backs to the land, and our faces westward, and the sea was going away

before us, and filling up in waves after us. And we saw wonderful things

on our journey," he said, "cities and courts and duns and lime-white

houses, and shining sunny-houses and palaces. And one time we saw beside

us a hornless deer running hard, and an eager white red-eared hound

following after it. And another time we saw a young girl on a horse and

having a golden apple in her right hand, and she going over the tops of

the waves; and there was following after her a young man riding a white

horse, and having a crimson cloak and a gold-hilted sword in his right

hand."

"Follow on with your story, pleasant Oisin," said Patrick, "for you did

not tell us yet what was the country you went to."

"The Country of the Young, the Country of Victory, it was," said Oisin.

"And O Patrick," he said, "there is no lie in that name; and if there

are grandeurs in your Heaven the same as there are there, I would give

my friendship to God.

"We turned our backs then to the dun," he said, "and the horse under us

was quicker than the spring wind on the backs of the mountains. And it

was not long till the sky darkened, and the wind rose in every part, and

the sea was as if on fire, and there was nothing to be seen of the sun.

"But after we were looking at the clouds and the stars for a while the

wind went down, and the storm, and the sun brightened. And we saw before

us a very delightful country under full blossom, and smooth plains in

it, and a king's dun that was very grand, and that had every colour in

it, and sunny-houses beside it, and palaces of shining stones, made by

skilled men. And we saw coming out to meet us three fifties of armed

men, very lively and handsome. And I asked Niamh was this the Country of

the Young, and she said it was. 'And indeed, Oisin,' she said, 'I told

you no lie about it, and you will see all I promised you before you for

ever.'

"And there came out after that a hundred beautiful young girls, having

cloaks of silk worked with gold, and they gave me a welcome to their own

country. And after that there came a great shining army, and with it a

strong beautiful king, having a shirt of yellow silk and a golden cloak

over it, and a very bright crown on his head. And there was following

after him a young queen, and fifty young girls along with her.

"And when all were come to the one spot, the king took me by the hand,

and he said out before them all: 'A hundred thousand welcomes before

you, Oisin, son of Finn. And as to this country you are come to,' he

said, 'I will tell you news of it without a lie. It is long and lasting

your life will be in it, and you yourself will be young for ever. And

there is no delight the heart ever thought of,' he said, 'but it is

here against your coming. And you can believe my words, Oisin,' he said,

'for I myself am the King of the Country of the Young, and this is its

comely queen, and it was golden-headed Niamh our daughter that went over

the sea looking for you to be her husband for ever.' I gave thanks to

him then, and I stooped myself down before the queen, and we went

forward to the royal house, and all the high nobles came out to meet us,

both men and women, and there was a great feast made there through the

length of ten days and ten nights.

"And that is the way I married Niamh of the Golden Hair, and that is the

way I went to the Country of the Young, although it is sorrowful to me

to be telling it now, O Patrick from Rome," said Oisin.

"Follow on with your story, Oisin of the destroying arms," said Patrick,

"and tell me what way did you leave the Country of the Young, for it is

long to me till I hear that; and tell us now had you any children by

Niamh, and was it long you were in that place."

"Two beautiful children I had by Niamh," said Oisin, "two young sons and

a comely daughter. And Niamh gave the two sons the name of Finn and of

Osgar, and the name I gave to the daughter was The Flower.

"And I did not feel the time passing, and it was a long time I stopped

there," he said, "till the desire came on me to see Finn and my comrades

again. And I asked leave of the king and of Niamh to go back to Ireland.

'You will get leave from me,' said Niamh; 'but for all that,' she said,

'it is bad news you are giving me, for I am in dread you will never come

back here again through the length of your days.' But I bade her have no

fear, since the white horse would bring me safe back again from Ireland.

'Bear this in mind, Oisin,' she said then, 'if you once get off the

horse while you are away, or if you once put your foot to ground, you

will never come back here again. And O Oisin,' she said, 'I tell it to

you now for the third time, if you once get down from the horse, you

will be an old man, blind and withered, without liveliness, without

mirth, without running, without leaping. And it is a grief to me,

Oisin,' she said, 'you ever to go back to green Ireland; and it is not

now as it used to be, and you will not see Finn and his people, for

there is not now in the whole of Ireland but a Father of Orders and

armies of saints; and here is my kiss for you, pleasant Oisin,' she

said, 'for you will never come back any more to the Country of the

Young.'

"And that is my story, Patrick, and I have told you no lie in it," said

Oisin. "And O Patrick," he said, "if I was the same the day I came here

as I was that day, I would have made an end of all your clerks, and

there would not be a head left on a neck after me."

"Go on with your story," said Patrick, "and you will get the same good

treatment from me you got from Finn, for the sound of your voice is

pleasing to me."

So Oisin went on with his story, and it is what he said: "I have nothing

to tell of my journey till I came back into green Ireland, and I looked

about me then on all sides, but there were no tidings to be got of Finn.

And it was not long till I saw a great troop of riders, men and women,

coming towards me from the west. And when they came near they wished me

good health; and there was wonder on them all when they looked at me,

seeing me so unlike themselves, and so big and so tall.

"I asked them then did they hear if Finn was still living, or any other

one of the Fianna, or what had happened them. 'We often heard of Finn

that lived long ago,' said they, 'and that there never was his equal for

strength or bravery or a great name; and there is many a book written

down,' they said, 'by the sweet poets of the Gael, about his doings and

the doings of the Fianna, and it would be hard for us to tell you all

of them. And we heard Finn had a son,' they said, 'that was beautiful

and shining, and that there came a young girl looking for him, and he

went away with her to the Country of the Young.'

"And when I knew by their talk that Finn was not living or any of the

Fianna, it is downhearted I was, and tired, and very sorrowful after

them. And I made no delay, but I turned my face and went on to Almhuin

of Leinster. And there was great wonder on me when I came there to see

no sign at all of Finn's great dun, and his great hall, and nothing in

the place where it was but weeds and nettles."

And there was grief on Oisin then, and he said: "Och, Patrick! Och,

ochone, my grief! It is a bad journey that was to me; and to be without

tidings of Finn or the Fianna has left me under pain through my

lifetime."

"Leave off fretting, Oisin," said Patrick, "and shed your tears to the

God of grace. Finn and the Fianna are slack enough now, and they will

get no help for ever." "It is a great pity that would be," said Oisin,

"Finn to be in pain for ever; and who was it gained the victory over

him, when his own hand had made an end of so many a hard fighter?"

"It is God gained the victory over Finn," said Patrick, "and not the

strong hand of an enemy; and as to the Fianna, they are condemned to

hell along with him, and tormented for ever."

"O Patrick," said Oisin, "show me the place where Finn and his people

are, and there is not a hell or a heaven there but I will put it down.

And if Osgar, my own son, is there," he said, "the hero that was bravest

in heavy battles, there is not in hell or in the Heaven of God a troop

so great that he could not destroy it."

"Let us leave off quarrelling on each side now," said Patrick; "and go

on, Oisin, with your story. What happened you after you knew the Fianna

to be at an end?"

"I will tell you that, Patrick," said Oisin. "I was turning to go away,

and I saw the stone trough that the Fianna used to be putting their

hands in, and it full of water. And when I saw it I had such a wish and

such a feeling for it that I forgot what I was told, and I got off the

horse. And in the minute all the years came on me, and I was lying on

the ground, and the horse took fright and went away and left me there,

an old man, weak and spent, without sight, without shape, without

comeliness, without strength or understanding, without respect.

"There, Patrick, is my story for you now," said Oisin, "and no lie in

it, of all that happened me going away and coming back again from the

Country of the Young."

CHAPTER II. OISIN IN PATRICK'S HOUSE

And Oisin stopped on with S. Patrick, but he was not very well content

with the way he was treated. And one time he said: "They say I am

getting food, but God knows I am not, or drink; and I Oisin, son of

Finn, under a yoke, drawing stones." "It is my opinion you are getting

enough," said S. Patrick then, "and you getting a quarter of beef and a

churn of butter and a griddle of bread every day." "I often saw a

quarter of a blackbird bigger than your quarter of beef," said Oisin,

"and a rowan berry as big as your churn of butter, and an ivy leaf as

big as your griddle of bread." S, Patrick was vexed when he heard that,

and he said to Oisin that he had told a lie.

There was great anger on Oisin then, and he went where there was a

litter of pups, and he bade a serving-boy to nail up the hide of a

freshly killed bullock to the wall, and to throw the pups against it one

by one. And every one that he threw fell down from the hide till it came

to the last, and he held on to it with his teeth and his nails. "Rear

that one," said Oisin, "and drown all the rest."

Then he bade the boy to keep the pup in a dark place, and to care it

well, and never to let it taste blood or see the daylight. And at the

end of a year, Oisin was so well pleased with the pup, that he gave it

the name of Bran Og, young Bran.

And one day he called to the serving-boy to come on a journey with him,

and to bring the pup in a chain. And they set out and passed by

Slieve-nam-ban, where the witches of the Sidhe do be spinning with their

spinning-wheels; and then they turned eastward into Gleann-na-Smol. And

Oisin raised a rock that was there, and he bade the lad take from under

it three things, a great sounding horn of the Fianna, and a ball of iron

they had for throwing, and a very sharp sword. And when Oisin saw those

things, he took them in his hands, and he said: "My thousand farewells

to the day when you were put here!" He bade the lad to clean them well

then; and when he had done that, he bade him to sound a blast on the

horn. So the boy did that, and Oisin asked him did he see anything

strange. "I did not," said the boy. "Sound it again as loud as you can,"

said Oisin. "That is as hard as I can sound it, and I can see nothing

yet," said the boy when he had done that. Then Oisin took the horn

himself, and he put it to his mouth, and blew three great blasts on it.

"What do you see now?" he said. "I see three great clouds coming," he

said, "and they are settling down in the valley; and the first cloud is

a flight of very big birds, and the second cloud is a flight of birds

that are bigger again, and the third flight is of the biggest and the

blackest birds the world ever saw."

"What is the dog doing?" said Oisin. "The eyes are starting from his

head, and there is not a rib of hair on him but is standing up." "Let

him loose now," said Oisin.

The dog rushed down to the valley then, and he made an attack on one of

the birds, that was the biggest of all, and that had a shadow like a

cloud. And they fought a very fierce fight, but at last Bran Og made an

end of the big bird, and lapped its blood. But if he did, madness came

on him, and he came rushing back towards Oisin, his jaws open and his

eyes like fire. "There is dread on me, Oisin," said the boy, "for the

dog is making for us, mad and raging." "Take this iron ball and make a

cast at him when he comes near," said Oisin. "I am in dread to do that,"

said the boy. "Put it in my hand, and turn it towards him," said Oisin.

The boy did that, and Oisin made a cast of the ball that went into the

mouth and the throat of the dog, and choked him, and he fell down the

slope, twisting and foaming.

Then they went where the great bird was left dead, and Oisin bade the

lad to cut a quarter off it with the sword, and he did so. And then he

bade him cut open the body, and in it he found a rowan berry, the

biggest he had ever seen, and an ivy leaf that was bigger than the

biggest griddle.

So Oisin turned back then, and went to where S. Patrick was, and he

showed him the quarter of the bird that was bigger than any quarter of a

bullock, and the rowan berry that was bigger than a churning of butter,

and the leaf. "And you know now, Patrick of the Bells," he said, "that I

told no lie; and it is what kept us all through our lifetime," he said,

"truth that was in our hearts, and strength in our arms, and fulfilment

in our tongues."

"You told no lie indeed," said Patrick.

And when Oisin had no sight left at all, he used every night to put up

one of the serving-men on his shoulders, and to bring him out to see how

were the cattle doing. And one night the servants had no mind to go, and

they agreed together to tell him it was a very bad night.

And it is what the first of them said; "It is outside there is a heavy

sound with the heavy water dropping from the tops of trees; the sound of

the waves is not to be heard for the loud splashing of the rain." And

then the next one said: "The trees of the wood are shivering, and the

birch is turning black; the snow is killing the birds; that is the story

outside." And the third said: "It is to the east they have turned their

face, the white snow and the dark rain; it is what is making the plain

so cold is the snow that is dripping and getting hard."

But there was a serving-girl in the house, and she said: "Rise up,

Oisin, and go out to the white-headed cows, since the cold wind is

plucking the trees from the hills."

Oisin went out then, and the serving-man on his shoulders; but it is

what the serving-man did, he brought a vessel of water and a birch broom

with him, and he was dashing water in Oisin's face, the way he would

think it was rain. But when they came to the pen where the cattle were,

Oisin found the night was quiet, and after that he asked no more news of

the weather from the servants.

CHAPTER III. THE ARGUMENTS

And S. Patrick took in hand to convert Oisin, and to bring him to

baptism; but it was no easy work he had to do, and everything he would

say, Oisin would have an answer for it. And it is the way they used to

be talking and arguing with one another, as it was put down afterwards

by the poets of Ireland:--

PATRICK. "Oisin, it is long your sleep is. Rise up and listen to the

Psalm. Your strength and your readiness are gone from you, though you

used to be going into rough fights and battles."

OLSIN. "My readiness and my strength are gone from me since Finn has no

armies living; I have no liking for clerks, their music is not sweet to

me after his."

PATRICK. "You never heard music so good from the beginning of the world

to this day; it is well you would serve an army on a hill, you that are

old and silly and grey."

OLSIN. "I used to serve an army on a hill, Patrick of the closed-up

mind; it is a pity you to be faulting me; there was never shame put on

me till now.

"I have heard music was sweeter than your music, however much you are

praising your clerks: the song of the blackbird in Leiter Laoi, and the

sound of the Dord Fiann; the very sweet thrush of the Valley of the

Shadow, or the sound of the boats striking the strand. The cry of the

hounds was better to me than the noise of your schools, Patrick.

"Little Nut, little Nut of my heart, the little dwarf that was with

Finn, when he would make tunes and songs he would put us all into deep

sleep.

"The twelve hounds that belonged to Finn, the time they would be let

loose facing out from the Siuir, their cry was sweeter than harps and

than pipes.

"I have a little story about Finn; we were but fifteen men; we took the

King of the Saxons of the feats, and we won a battle against the King of

Greece.

"We fought nine battles in Spain, and nine times twenty battles in

Ireland; from Lochlann and from the eastern world there was a share of

gold coming to Finn.

"My grief! I to be stopping after him, and without delight in games or

in music; to be withering away after my comrades; my grief it is to be

living. I and the clerks of the Mass books are two that can never agree.

"If Finn and the Fianna were living, I would leave the clerks and the

bells; I would follow the deer through the valleys, I would like to be

close on his track.

"Ask Heaven of God, Patrick, for Finn of the Fianna and his race; make

prayers for the great man; you never heard of his like."

PATRICK. "I will not ask Heaven for Finn, man of good wit that my anger

is rising against, since his delight was to be living in valleys with

the noise of hunts."

OISIN. "If you had been in company with the Fianna, Patrick of the

joyless clerks and of the bells, you would not be attending on schools

or giving heed to God."

PATRICK. "I would not part from the Son of God for all that have lived

east or west; O Oisin, O shaking poet, there will harm come on you in

satisfaction for the priests."

OISIN. "It was a delight to Finn the cry of his hounds on the mountains,

the wild dogs leaving their harbours, the pride of his armies, those

were his delights."

PATRICK. "There was many a thing Finn took delight in, and there is not

much heed given to it after him; Finn and his hounds are not living now,

and you yourself will not always be living, Oisin."

OISIN. "There is a greater story of Finn than of us, or of any that have

lived in our time; all that are gone and all that are living, Finn was

better to give out gold than themselves."

PATRICK. "All the gold you and Finn used to be giving out, it is little

it does for you now; he is in Hell in bonds because he did treachery and

oppression."

OISIN. "It is little I believe of your truth, man from Rome with the

white books, Finn the open-handed head of the Fianna to be in the hands

of devils or demons."

PATRICK. "Finn is in bonds in Hell, the pleasant man that gave out

gold; in satisfaction for his disrespect to God, he is under grief in

the house of pain."

OISIN. "If the sons of Morna were within it, or the strong men of the

sons of Baiscne, they would take Finn out of it, or they would have the

house for themselves."

PATRICK. "If the five provinces of Ireland were within it, or the strong

seven battalions of the Fianna, they would not be able to bring Finn out

of it, however great their strength might be."

OISIN. "If Faolan and Goll were living, and brown-haired Diarmuid and

brave Osgar, Finn of the Fianna could not be held in any house that was

made by God or devils."

PATRICK. "If Faolan and Goll were living, and all the Fianna that ever

were, they could not bring out Finn from the house where he is in pain."

OISIN. "What did Finn do against God but to be attending on schools and

on armies? Giving gold through a great part of his time, and for another

while trying his hounds."

PATRICK. "In payment for thinking of his hounds and for serving the

schools of the poets, and because he gave no heed to God, Finn of the

Fianna is held down."

OISIN. "You say, Patrick of the Psalms, that the Fianna could not take

out Finn, or the five provinces of Ireland along with them.

"I have a little story about Finn. We were but fifteen men when we took

the King of Britain of the feasts by the strength of our spears and our

own strength.

"We took Magnus the great, the son of the King of Lochlann of the

speckled ships; we came back no way sorry or tired, we put our rent on

far places.

"O Patrick, the story is pitiful, the King of the Fianna to be under

locks; a heart without envy, without hatred, a heart hard in earning

victory.

"It is an injustice, God to be unwilling to give food and riches; Finn

never refused strong or poor, although cold Hell is now his

dwelling-place.

"It is what Finn had a mind for, to be listening to the sound of Druim

Dearg; to sleep at the stream of Ess Ruadh, to be hunting the deer of

Gallimh of the bays.

"The cries of the blackbird of Leiter Laoi, the wave of Rudraighe

beating the strand, the bellowing of the ox of Magh Maoin, the lowing of

the calf of Gleann da Mhail.

"The noise of the hunt on Slieve Crot, the sound of the fawns round

Slieve Cua, the scream of the sea-gulls there beyond on Iorrus, the

screech of the crows over the battle.

"The waves vexing the breasts of the boats, the howling of the hounds at

Druim Lis; the voice of Bran on Cnoc-an-Air, the outcry of the streams

about Slieve Mis.

"The call of Osgar going to the hunt; the voice of the hounds on the

road of the Fianna, to be listening to them and to the poets, that was

always his desire.

"A desire of the desires of Osgar was to listen to the striking of

shields; to be hacking at bones in a battle, it is what he had a mind

for always.

"We went westward one time to hunt at Formaid of the Fianna, to see the

first running of our hounds.

"It was Finn was holding Bran, and it is with myself Sceolan was;

Diarmuid of the Women had Fearan, and Osgar had lucky Adhnuall.

"Conan the Bald had Searc; Caoilte, son of Ronan, had Daol; Lugaidh's

Son and Goll were holding Fuaim and Fothran.

"That was the first day we loosed out a share of our hounds to a

hunting; and Och! Patrick, of all that were in it, there is not one left

living but myself.

"O Patrick, it is a pity the way I am now, a spent old man without

sway, without quickness, without strength, going to Mass at the altar.

"Without the great deer of Slieve Luchra; without the hares of Slieve

Cuilinn; without going into fights with Finn; without listening to the

poets.

"Without battles, without taking of spoils; without playing at nimble

feats; without going courting or hunting, two trades that were my

delight."

PATRICK. "Leave off, old man, leave your foolishness; let what you have

done be enough for you from this out. Think on the pains that are before

you; the Fianna are gone, and you yourself will be going."

OISIN. "If I go, may yourself not be left after me, Patrick of the

hindering heart; if Conan, the least of the Fianna, were living, your

buzzing would not be left long to you."

"Or if this was the day I gave ten hundred cows to the headless woman

that came to the Valley of the Two Oxen; the birds of the air brought

away the ring I gave her, I never knew where she went herself from me."

PATRICK. "That is little to trouble you, Oisin; it was but for a while

she was with you; it is better for you to be as you are than to be among

them again."

OISIN. "O Son of Calphurn of the friendly talk, it is a pity for him

that gives respect to clerks and bells; I and Caoilte my friend, we were

not poor when we were together.

"The music that put Finn to his sleep was the cackling of the ducks from

the lake of the Three Narrows; the scolding talk of the blackbird of

Doire an Cairn, the bellowing of the ox from the Valley of the Berries.

"The whistle of the eagle from the Valley of Victories, or from the

rough branches of the ridge by the stream; the grouse of the heather of

Cruachan; the call of the otter of Druim-re-Coir.

"The song of the blackbird of Doire an Cairn indeed I never heard

sweeter music, if I could be under its nest.

"My grief that I ever took baptism; it is little credit I got by it,

being without food, without drink, doing fasting and praying."

PATRICK. "In my opinion it did not harm you, old man; you will get nine

score cakes of bread, wine and meat to put a taste on it; it is bad talk

you are giving."

OISIN. "This mouth that is talking with you, may it never confess to a

priest, if I would not sooner have the leavings of Finn's house than a

share of your own meals."

PATRICK. "He got but what he gathered from the banks, or whatever he

could kill on the rough hills; he got hell at the last because of his

unbelief."

OISIN. "That was not the way with us at all, but our fill of wine and of

meat; justice and a right beginning at the feasts, sweet drinks and

every one drinking them.

"It is fretting after Diarmuid and Goll I am, and after Fergus of the

True Lips, the time you will not let me be speaking of them, O new

Patrick from Rome."

PATRICK. "We would give you leave to be speaking of them, but first you

should give heed to God. Since you are now at the end of your days,

leave your foolishness, weak old man."

OISIN. "O Patrick, tell me as a secret, since it is you have the best

knowledge, will my dog or my hound be let in with me to the court of the

King of Grace?"

PATRICK. "Old man in your foolishness that I cannot put any bounds to,

your dog or your hound will not be let in with you to the court of the

King of Power."

OISIN. "If I had acquaintance with God, and my hound to be at hand, I

would make whoever gave food to myself give a share to my hound as well.

"One strong champion that was with the Fianna of Ireland would be better

than the Lord of Piety, and than you yourself, Patrick."

PATRICK. "O Oisin of the sharp blades, it is mad words you are saying.

God is better for one day than the whole of the Fianna of Ireland."

OISIN. "Though I am now without sway and my life is spent to the end, do

not put abuse, Patrick, on the great men of the sons of Baiscne.

"If I had Conan with me, the man that used to be running down the

Fianna, it is he would break your head within among your clerks and your

priests."

PATRICK. "It is a silly thing, old man, to be talking always of the

Fianna; remember your end is come, and take the Son of God to help you."

OISIN. "I used to sleep out on the mountain under the grey dew; I was

never used to go to bed without food, while there was a deer on the hill

beyond."

PATRICK. "You are astray at the end of your life between the straight

way and the crooked. Keep out from the crooked path of pains, and the

angels of God will come beneath your head."

OISIN. "If myself and open-handed Fergus and Diarmuid were together now

on this spot, we would go in every path we ever went in, and ask no

leave of the priests."

PATRICK. "Leave off, Oisin; do not be speaking against the priests that

are telling the word of God in every place. Unless you leave off your

daring talk, it is great pain you will have in the end."

OISIN. "When myself and the leader of the Fianna were looking for a boar

in a valley, it was worse to me not to see it than all your clerks to be

without their heads."

PATRICK. "It is pitiful seeing you without sense; that is worse to you

than your blindness; if you were to get sight within you, it is great

your desire would be for Heaven."

OISIN. "It is little good it would be to me to be sitting in that city,

without Caoilte, without Osgar, without my father being with me.

"The leap of the buck would be better to me, or the sight of badgers

between two valleys, than all your mouth is promising me, and all the

delights I could get in Heaven."

PATRICK. "Your thoughts are foolish, they will come to nothing; your

pleasure and your mirth are gone. Unless you will take my advice

to-night, you will not get leave on this side or that."

OISIN. "If myself and the Fianna were on the top of a hill to-day

drawing our spear-heads, we would have our choice of being here or there

in spite of books and priests and bells."

PATRICK. "You were like the smoke of a wisp, or like a stream in a

valley, or like a whirling wind on the top of a hill, every tribe of you

that ever lived."

OISIN. "If I was in company with the people of strong arms, the way I

was at Bearna da Coill, I would sooner be looking at them than at this

troop of the crooked croziers.

"If I had Scolb Sceine with me, or Osgar, that was smart in battles, I

would not be without meat to-night at the sound of the bell of the seven

tolls."

PATRICK. "Oisin, since your wits are gone from you be glad at what I

say; it is certain to me you will leave the Fianna and that you will

receive the God of the stars."

OISIN. "There is wonder on me at your hasty talk, priest that has

travelled in every part, to say that I would part from the Fianna, a

generous people, never niggardly."

PATRICK. "If you saw the people of God, the way they are settled at

feasts, every good thing is more plentiful with them than with Finn's

people, however great their name was.

"Finn and the Fianna are lying now very sorrowful on the flag-stone of

pain; take the Son of God in their place; make your repentance and do

not lose Heaven."

OISIN. "I do not believe your talk now. O Patrick of the crooked staves,

Finn and the Fianna to be there within, unless they find pleasure being

in it."

PATRICK. "Make right repentance now, before you know when your end is

coming; God is better for one hour than the whole of the Fianna of

Ireland."

OISIN. "That is a daring answer to make to me, Patrick of the crooked

crozier; your crozier would be in little bits if I had Osgar with me

now.

"If my son Osgar and God were hand to hand on the Hill of the Fianna, if

I saw my son put down, I would say that God was a strong man.

"How could it be that God or his priests could be better men than Finn,

the King of the Fianna, a generous man without crookedness.

"If there was a place above or below better than the Heaven of God, it

is there Finn would go, and all that are with him of his people.

"You say that a generous man never goes to the hell of pain; there was

not one among the Fianna that was not generous to all.

"Ask of God, Patrick, does He remember when the Fianna were alive, or

has He seen east or west any man better than themselves in their

fighting.

"The Fianna used not to be saying treachery; we never had the name of

telling lies. By truth and the strength of our hands we came safe out of

every battle.

"There never sat a priest in a church, though you think it sweet to be

singing psalms, was better to his word than the Fianna, or more generous

than Finn himself.

"If my comrades were living to-night, I would take no pleasure in your

crooning in the church; as they are not living now, the rough voice of

the bells has deafened me.

"Och! in the place of battles and heavy fights, where I used to have my

place and to take my pleasure, the crozier of Patrick being carried, and

his clerks at their quarrelling.

"Och! slothful, cheerless Conan, it is great abuse I used to be giving

you; why do you not come to see me now? you would get leave for making

fun and reviling through the whole of the niggardly clerks.

"Och! where are the strong men gone that they do not come together to

help me! O Osgar of the sharp sword of victory, come and free your

father from his bonds!

"Where is the strong son of Lugaidh? Och! Diarmuid of all the women!

Och! Caoilte, son of Ronan, think of our love, and travel to me!"

PATRICK. "Stop your talk, you withered, witless old man; it is my King

that made the Heavens, it is He that gives blossom to the trees, it is

He made the moon and the sun, the fields and the grass."

OISIN. "It was not in shaping fields and grass that my king took his

delight, but in overthrowing fighting men, and defending countries, and

bringing his name into every part.

"In courting, in playing, in hunting, in baring his banner at the first

of a fight; in playing at chess, at swimming, in looking around him at

the drinking-hall.

"O Patrick, where was your God when the two came over the sea that

brought away the queen of Lochlann of the Ships? Where was He when Dearg

came, the son of the King of Lochlann of the golden shields? Why did not

the King of Heaven protect them from the blows of the big man?

"Or when Tailc, son of Treon, came, the man that did great slaughter on

the Fianna; it was not by God that champion fell, but by Osgar, in the

sight of all.

"Many a battle and many a victory was gained by the Fianna of Ireland; I

never heard any great deed was done by the King of Saints, or that He

ever reddened His hand.

"It would be a great shame for God not to take the locks of pain off

Finn; if God Himself were in bonds, my king would fight for His sake.

"Finn left no one in pain or in danger without freeing him by silver or

gold, or by fighting till he got the victory.

"For the strength of your love, Patrick, do not forsake the great men;

bring in the Fianna unknown to the King of Heaven.

"It is a good claim I have on your God, to be among his clerks the way I

am; without food, without clothing, without music, without giving

rewards to poets.

"Without the cry of the hounds or the horns, without guarding coasts,

without courting generous women; for all that I have suffered by the

want of food, I forgive the King of Heaven in my will."

Oisin said: "My story is sorrowful. The sound of your voice is not

pleasant to me. I will cry my fill, but not for God, but because Finn

and the Fianna are not living."

CHAPTER IV. OISIN'S LAMENTS

And Oisin used to be making laments, and sometimes he would be making

praises of the old times and of Finn; and these are some of them that

are remembered yet:--

I saw the household of Finn; it was not the household of a soft

race; I had a vision of that man yesterday.

I saw the household of the High King, he with the brown,

sweet-voiced son; I never saw a better man.

I saw the household of Finn; no one saw it as I saw it; I saw Finn

with the sword, Mac an Luin. Och! it was sorrowful to see it.

I cannot tell out every harm that is on my head; free us from our

trouble for ever; I have seen the household of Finn.

It is a week from yesterday I last saw Finn; I never saw a braver man. A

king of heavy blows; my law, my adviser, my sense and my wisdom, prince

and poet, braver than kings, King of the Fianna, brave in all countries;

golden salmon of the sea, clean hawk of the air, rightly taught,

avoiding lies; strong in his doings, a right judge, ready in courage, a

high messenger in bravery and in music.

His skin lime-white, his hair golden; ready to work, gentle to women.

His great green vessels full of rough sharp wine, it is rich the king

was, the head of his people.

Seven sides Finn's house had, and seven score shields on every side.

Fifty fighting men he had about him having woollen cloaks; ten bright

drinking-cups in his hall; ten blue vessels, ten golden horns.

It is a good household Finn had, without grudging, without lust, without

vain boasting, without chattering, without any slur on any one of the

Fianna.

Finn never refused any man; he never put away any one that came to his

house. If the brown leaves falling in the woods were gold, if the white

waves were silver, Finn would have given away the whole of it.

Blackbird of Doire an Chairn, your voice is sweet; I never heard on any

height of the world music was sweeter than your voice, and you at the

foot of your nest.

The music is sweetest in the world, it is a pity not to be listening to

it for a while, O son of Calphurn of the sweet bells, and you would

overtake your nones again.

If you knew the story of the bird the way I know it, you would be crying

lasting tears, and you would give no heed to your God for a while.

In the country of Lochlann of the blue streams, Finn, son of Cumhal, of

the red-gold cups, found that bird you hear now; I will tell you its

story truly.

Doire an Chairn, that wood there to the west, where the Fianna used to

be delaying, it is there they put the blackbird, in the beauty of the

pleasant trees.

The stag of the heather of quiet Cruachan, the sorrowful croak from the

ridge of the Two Lakes; the voice of the eagle of the Valley of the

Shapes, the voice of the cuckoo on the Hill of Brambles.

The voice of the hounds in the pleasant valley; the scream of the eagle

on the edge of the wood; the early outcry of the hounds going over the

Strand of the Red Stones.

The time Finn lived and the Fianna, it was sweet to them to be listening

to the whistle of the blackbird; the voice of the bells would not have

been sweet to them.

There was no one of the Fianna without his fine silken shirt and his

soft coat, without bright armour, without shining stones on his head,

two spears in his hand, and a shield that brought victory.

If you were to search the world you would not find a harder man, best of

blood, best in battle; no one got the upper hand of him. When he went

out trying his white hound, which of us could be put beside Finn?

One time we went hunting on Slieve-nam-ban; the sun was beautiful

overhead, the voice of the hounds went east and west, from hill to hill.

Finn and Bran sat for a while on the hill, every man was jealous for the

hunt. We let out three thousand hounds from their golden chains; every

hound of them brought down two deer.

Patrick of the true crozier, did you ever see, east or west, a greater

hunt than that hunt of Finn and the Fianna? O son of Calphurn of the

bells, that day was better to me than to be listening to your

lamentations in the church.

* * * * *

There is no strength in my hands to-night, there is no power within me;

it is no wonder I to be sorowful, being thrown down in the sorrow of old

age.

Everything is a grief to me beyond any other man on the face of the

earth, to be dragging stones along to the church and the hill of the

priests.

I have a little story of our people. One time Finn had a mind to make a

dun on the bald hill of Cuailgne, and he put it on the Fianna of Ireland

to bring stones for building it; a third on the sons of Morna, a third

on myself, and a third on the sons of Baiscne.

I gave an answer to Finn, son of Cumhal; I said I would be under his

sway no longer, and that I would obey him no more.

When Finn heard that, he was silent a long time, the man without a He,

without fear. And he said to me then: "You yourself will be dragging

stones before your death comes to you."

I rose up then with anger on me, and there followed me the fourth of the

brave battalions of the Fianna. I gave my own judgments, there were many

of the Fianna with me.

Now my strength is gone from me, I that was adviser to the Fianna; my

whole body is tired to-night, my hands, my feet, and my head, tired,

tired, tired.

It is bad the way I am after Finn of the Fianna; since he is gone away,

every good is behind me.

Without great people, without mannerly ways; it is sorrowful I am after

our king that is gone.

I am a shaking tree, my leaves gone from me; an empty nut, a horse

without a bridle; a people without a dwelling-place, I Oisin, son of

Finn.

* * * * *

It is long the clouds are over me to-night! it is long last night was;

although this day is long, yesterday was longer again to me; every day

that comes is long to me!

That is not the way I used to be, without fighting, without battles,

without learning feats, without young girls, without music, without

harps, without bruising bones, without great deeds; without increase of

learning, without generosity, without drinking at feasts, without

courting, without hunting, the two trades I was used to; without going

out to battle, Ochone! the want of them is sorrowful to me.

No hunting of deer or stag, it is not like that I would wish to be; no

leashes for our hounds, no hounds; it is long the clouds are over me

to-night!

Without rising up to do bravery as we were used, without playing as we

had a mind; without swimming of our fighting men in the lake; it is long

the clouds are over me to-night!

There is no one at all in the world the way I am; it is a pity the way I

am; an old man dragging stones; it is long the clouds are over me

to-night!

I am the last of the Fianna, great Oisin, son of Finn, listening to the

voice of bells; it is long the clouds are over me to-night!

NOTES

I. THE APOLOGY

The Irish text of the greater number of the stories in this book has

been published, and from this text I have worked, making my own

translation as far as my scholarship goes, and when it fails, taking the

meaning given by better scholars. In some cases the Irish text has not

been printed, and I have had to work by comparing and piecing together

various translations. I have had to put a connecting sentence of my own

here and there, and I have fused different versions together, and

condensed many passages, and I have left out many, using the choice that

is a perpetual refusing, in trying to get some clear outline of the

doings of the heroes.

I have found it more natural to tell the stories in the manner of the

thatched houses, where I have heard so many legends of Finn and his

friends, and Oisin and Patrick, and the Ever-Living Ones, and the

Country of the Young, rather than in the manner of the slated houses,

where I have not heard them.

Four years ago, Dr Atkinson, a Professor of Trinity College, Dublin, in

his evidence before the Commission of Intermediate Education, said of

the old literature of Ireland:--"It has scarcely been touched by the

movements of the great literatures; it is the untrained popular feeling.

Therefore it is almost intolerably low in tone--I do not mean naughty,

but low; and every now and then, when the circumstance occasions it, it

goes down lower than low ... If I read the books in the Greek, the Latin

or the French course, in almost every one of them there is something

with an ideal ring about it--something that I can read with positive

pleasure--something that has what the child might take with him as a

[Greek: ktêma eis dei]--a perpetual treasure; but if I read the Irish

books, I see nothing ideal in them, and my astonishment is that through

the whole range of Irish literature that I have read (and I have read

an enormous range of it), the smallness of the element of idealism is

most noticeable ... And as there is very little idealism there is very

little imagination ... The Irish tales as a rule are devoid of it

fundamentally."

Dr Atkinson is an Englishman, but unfortunately not only

fellow-professors in Trinity but undergraduates there have been

influenced by his opinion, that Irish literature is a thing to be

despised. I do not quote his words to draw attention to a battle that is

still being fought, but to explain my own object in working, as I have

worked ever since that evidence was given, to make a part of Irish

literature accessible to many, especially among my young countrymen, who

have not opportunity to read the translations of the chief scholars,

scattered here and there in learned periodicals, or patience and time to

disentangle overlapping and contradictory versions, that they may judge

for themselves as to its "lowness" and "want of imagination," and the

other well-known charges brought against it before the same Commission.

I believe that those who have once learned to care for the story of

Cuchulain of Muirthemne, and of Finn and Lugh and Etain, and to

recognise the enduring belief in an invisible world and an immortal life

behind the visible and the mortal, will not be content with my

redaction, but will go, first to the fuller versions of the best

scholars, and then to the manuscripts themselves. I believe the forty

students of old Irish lately called together by Professor Kuno Meyer

will not rest satisfied until they have explored the scores and scores

of uncatalogued and untranslated manuscripts in Trinity College Library,

and that the enthusiasm which the Gaelic League has given birth to will

lead to much fine scholarship.

A day or two ago I had a letter from one of the best Greek scholars and

translators in England, who says of my "Cuchulain": "It opened up a

great world of beautiful legend which, though accounting myself as an

Irishman, I had never known at all. I am sending out copies to Irish

friends in Australia who, I am sure, will receive the same sort of

impression, almost an impression of pride in the beauty of the Irish

mind, as I received myself." And President Roosevelt wrote to me a

little time ago that after he had read "Cuchulain of Muirthemne," he had

sent for all the other translations from the Irish he could get, to take

on his journey to the Western States.

I give these appreciative words not, I think, from vanity, for they are

not for me but for my material, to show the effect our old literature

has on those who come fresh to it, and that they do not complain of its

"want of imagination." I am, of course, very proud and glad in having

had the opportunity of helping to make it known, and the task has been

pleasant, although toil-some. Just now, indeed, on the 6th October, I am

tired enough, and I think with sympathy of the old Highland piper, who

complained that he was "withered with yelping the seven Fenian

battalions."

II. THE AGE AND ORIGIN OF THE STORIES OF THE FIANNA

Mr Alfred Nutt says in _Ossian and the Ossianic Literature,_ No. 3 of

his excellent series of sixpenny pamphlets, _Popular Studies in

Mythology, Romance, and Folklore_:--

"The body of Gaelic literature connected with the name of Ossian is of

very considerable extent and of respectable antiquity. The oldest texts,

prose for the most part, but also in verse, are preserved in Irish MSS.

of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and go back to a period from one

hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty years older at least. The

bulk of Ossianic literature is, however, of later date as far as the

form under which it has come down to us is concerned. A number of

important texts, prose for the most part, are preserved in MSS. of the

fourteenth century, but were probably redacted in the thirteenth and

twelfth centuries. But by far the largest mass consists of narrative

poems, as a rule dramatic in structure. These have come down to us in

MSS. written in Scotland from the end of the fifteenth to the middle of

the seventeenth century, in Ireland from the sixteenth down to the

middle of the nineteenth century. The Gaelic-speaking peasantry, alike

in Ireland and Scotland, have preserved orally a large number of these

ballads, as also a great mass of prose narratives, the heroes of which

are Ossian and his comrades.

"Were all Ossianic texts preserved in MSS. older than the present

century to be printed, they would fill some eight to ten thousand octavo

pages. The mere bulk of the literature, even if we allow for

considerable repetition of incident, arrests attention. If we further

recall that for the last five hundred years this body of romance has

formed the chief imaginative recreation of Gaeldom, alike in Ireland and

Scotland, and that a peasantry unable to read or write has yet preserved

it almost entire, its claims to consideration and study will appear

manifest."

He then goes on to discuss how far the incidents in the stories can be

accepted as they were accepted by Irish historical writers of the

eleventh century as authentic history:--

"Fortunately there is little need for me to discuss the credibility or

otherwise of the historic records concerning Finn, his family, and his

band of warriors. They may be accepted or rejected according to

individual bent of mind without really modifying our view of the

literature. For when we turn to the romances, whether in prose or verse,

we find that, although the history is professedly the same as that of

the Annals, firstly, we are transported to a world entirely romantic, in

which divine and semi-divine beings, ungainly monsters and giants, play a

prominent part, in which men and women change shapes with animals, in

which the lives of the heroes are miraculously prolonged--in short, we

find ourselves in a land of Faery; secondly, we find that the historic

conditions in which the heroes are represented as living do not, for the

most part, answer to anything we know or can surmise of the third

century. For Finn and his warriors are perpetually on the watch to guard

Ireland against the attacks of over-sea raiders, styled Lochlannac by

the narrators, and by them undoubtedly thought of as Norsemen. But the

latter, as is well known, only came to Ireland at the close of the

eighth century, and the heroic period of their invasions extended for

about a century, from 825 to 925; to be followed by a period of

comparative settlement during the tenth century, until at the opening of

the eleventh century the battle of Clontarf, fought by Brian, the great

South Irish chieftain, marked the break-up of the separate Teutonic

organisations and the absorption of the Teutons into the fabric of Irish

life. In these pages then we may disregard the otherwise interesting

question of historic credibility in the Ossianic romances: firstly,

because they have their being in a land unaffected by fact; secondly,

because if they ever did reflect the history of the third century the

reflection was distorted in after-times, and a pseudo-history based upon

events of the ninth and tenth centuries was substituted for it. What the

historian seeks for in legend is far more a picture of the society in

which it took rise than a record of the events which it commemorates."

In a later part of the pamphlet Mr Nutt discusses such questions as

whether we may look for examples of third-century customs in the

stories, what part of the stories first found their way into writing,

whether the Oisin and Patrick dialogues were written under the influence

of actual Pagan feeling persisting from Pagan times, or whether "a

change came over the feeling of Gaeldom during the fourteenth and

fifteenth centuries," when the Oisin and Patrick dialogues in their

present form began to be written. His final summing-up is that

"well-nigh the same stories that were told of Finn and his warrior

braves by the Gael of the eleventh century are told in well-nigh the

same way by his descendant to-day." Mr Nutt does not enquire how long

the stories may have been told before the first story was written down.

Larminie, however, whose early death was the first great loss of our

intellectual movement, pushes them backward for untold ages in the

introduction to his _West Irish Folk Tales and Romances_. He builds up a

detailed and careful argument, for which I must refer readers to his

book, to prove that the Scottish Highlands and Ireland have received

their folk-lore both from "Aryan and Non-Aryan sources," and that in the

Highlands there is more non-Aryan influence and more non-Aryan blood

than in Ireland. He argues that nothing is more improbable than that all

folk-tales are Aryan, as has sometimes been supposed, and sums up as

follows:--

"They bear the stamp of the genius of more than one race. The pure and

placid but often cold imagination of the Aryan has been at work on some.

In others we trace the more picturesque fancy, the fierceness and

sensuality, the greater sense of artistic elegance belonging to races

whom the Aryan, in spite of his occasional faults of hardness and

coarseness, has, on the whole, left behind him. But as the greatest

results in the realm of the highest art have always been achieved in the

case of certain blends of Aryan with other blood, I should hardly deem

it extravagant if it were asserted that in the humbler regions of the

folk-tale we might trace the working of the same law. The process which

has gone on may in part have been as follows:--Every race which has

acquired very definite characteristics must have been for a long time

isolated. The Aryans during their period of isolation probably developed

many of their folk-germs into their larger myths, owing to the greater

constructiveness of their imagination, and thus, in a way, they used up

part of their material. Afterwards, when they became blended with other

races less advanced, they acquired fresh material to work on. We have in

Ireland an instance to hand, of which a brief discussion may help to

illustrate the whole race theory.

"The larger Irish legendary literature divides itself into three

cycles--the divine, the heroic, the Fenian. Of these three the last is

so well-known orally in Scotland that it has been a matter of dispute to

which country it really belongs. It belongs, in fact, to both. Here,

however, comes in a strange contrast with the other cycles. The first

is, so far as I am aware, wholly unknown in Scotland, the second

comparatively unknown. What is the explanation? Professor Zimmer not

having established his late-historical view as regards Finn, and the

general opinion among scholars having tended of recent years towards the

mythical view, we want to know why there is so much more community in

one case than in the other. Mr O'Grady long since seeing this

difficulty, and then believing Finn to be historical, was induced to

place the latter in point of time before Cuchulain and his compeers. But

this view is of course inadmissible when Finn is seen not to be

historical at all. There remains but one explanation. The various bodies

of legend in question are, so far as Ireland is concerned, only earlier

or later, as they came into the island with the various races to which

they belonged. The wider prevalence, then, of the Finn Saga would

indicate that it belonged to an early race occupying both Ireland and

Scotland. Then entered the Aryan Gael, and for him henceforth, as the

ruler of the island, his own gods and heroes were sung by his own bards.

His legends became the subject of what I may call the court poetry, the

aristocratic literature. When he conquered Scotland, he took with him

his own gods and heroes; but in the latter country the bardic system

never became established, and hence we find but feeble echoes of the

heroic cycle among the mountains of the North. That this is the

explanation is shown by what took place in Ireland. Here the heroic

cycle has been handed down in remembrance almost solely by the bardic

literature. The popular memory retains but few traces of it. Its

essentially aristocratic character is shown by the fact that the people

have all but forgotten it, if they ever knew it. But the Fenian cycle

has not been forgotten. Prevailing everywhere, still cherished by the

conquered peoples, it held its ground in Scotland and Ireland alike,

forcing its way in the latter country even into the written literature,

and so securing a twofold lease of existence ... The Fenian cycle, in a

word, is non-Aryan folk-literature partially subjected to Aryan

treatment."

The whole problem is extremely complex, and several other writers have

written upon it. Mr Borlase, for instance, has argued in his big book on

the Dolmens that the cromlechs, and presumably the Diarmuid and Crania

legend, is connected with old religious rites of an erotic nature coming

down from a very primitive state of society.

I have come to my own conclusion not so much because of any weight of

argument, as because I found it impossible to arrange the stories in a

coherent form so long as I considered them a part of history. I tried to

work on the foundation of the Annalists, and fit the Fianna into a

definite historical epoch, but the whole story seemed trivial and

incoherent until I began to think of them as almost contemporaneous with

the battle of Magh Tuireadh, which even the Annalists put back into

mythical ages. In this I have only followed some of the story-tellers,

who have made the mother of Lugh of the Long Hand the grandmother of

Finn, and given him a shield soaked with the blood of Balor. I cannot

think of any of the stories as having had a modern origin, or that the

century in which each was written down gives any evidence as to its age.

"How Diarmuid got his Love-Spot," for instance, which was taken down

only a few years ago from some old man's recitation by Dr Hyde, may well

be as old as "Finn and the Phantoms," which is in one of the earliest

manuscripts. It seems to me that one cannot choose any definite period

either from the vast living mass of folk-lore in the country or from the

written text, and that there is as good evidence of Finn being of the

blood of the gods as of his being, as some of the people tell me, "the

son of an O'Shaughnessy who lived at Kiltartan Cross."

Dr Douglas Hyde, although he placed the Fenian after the Cuchulain cycle

in his _History of Irish Literature_, has allowed me to print this

note:--

"While believing in the real objective existence of the Fenians as a

body of Janissaries who actually lived, ruled, and hunted in King

Cormac's time, I think it equally certain that hundreds of stories,

traits, and legends far older and more primitive than any to which they

themselves could have given rise, have clustered about them. There is

probably as large a bulk of primitive mythology to be found in the Finn

legend as in that of the Red Branch itself. The story of the Fenians was

a kind of nucleus to which a vast amount of the flotsam and jetsam of a

far older period attached itself, and has thus been preserved."

As I found it impossible to give that historical date to the stories, I,

while not adding in anything to support my theory, left out such names

as those of Cormac and Art, and such more or less historical personages,

substituting "the High King." And in the "Battle of the White Strand," I

left out the name of Caelur, Tadg's wife, because I had already followed

another chronicler in giving him Ethlinn for a wife. In the earlier part

I have given back to Angus Og the name of "The Disturber," which had, as

I believe, strayed from him to the Saint of the same name.

III. THE AUTHORITIES

The following is a list of the authorities I have been chiefly helped by

in putting these stories together and in translation of the text. But I

cannot make it quite accurate, for I have sometimes transferred a mere

phrase, sometimes a whole passage from one story to another, where it

seemed to fit better. I have sometimes, in the second part of the book,

used stories preserved in the Scottish Gaelic, as will be seen by my

references. I am obliged to write these notes away from libraries, and

cannot verify them, but I think they are fairly correct.

PART ONE. BOOKS ONE, TWO, AND THREE

THE COMING OF THE TUATHA DE DANAAN, AND LUGH OF

THE LONG HAND, AND THE COMING OF THE GAEL.--

O'Curry, _Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish_;

_MSS. Materials_;

_Atlantis_;

De Jubainville, _Cycle Mythologique_;

Hennessy, _Chronicum Scotorum_;

Atkinson, _Book of Leinster_;

_Annals of the Four Masters_;

Nennius, _Hist, Brit._ (Irish Version);

Zimmer, _Glossae Hibernacae_;

Whitley Stokes, _Three Irish Glossaries_;

_Revue Celtique_ and _Irische Texte_;

_Gaedelica_;

Nutt, _Voyage of Bran_;

_Proceedings Ossianic Societ_;

O'Beirne Crowe, _Amra Columcille_;

Dean of Lismore's Book;

Windisch, _Irische Texte_;

Hennessy and others in _Revue Celtique_;

_Kilkenny Archaeological Journal_;

Keatinge's _History_;

_Ogyia_;

Curtin's _Folk Tales_;

_Proceedings Royal Irish Academy_, MSS. Series;

Dr Sigerson, _Bards of Gael and Gall_;

Miscellanies, _Celtic Society_.

BOOK FOUR

THE EVER-LIVING LIVING ONES

I have used many of the above, and for separate stories, I may

give these authorities:--

MIDHIR AND ETAIN.--

O'Curry, _Manners and Customs_;

Whitley Stokes, _Dinnsenchus_;

Müller, _Revue Celtique_;

Nutt, _Voyage of Bran_;

De Jubainville, _Epopée Celtique_;

Standish Hayes O'Grady, MS. lent me by him.

MANANNAN AT PLAY.--

S. Hayes O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_.

HIS CALL TO BRAN.--

Professor Kuno Meyer in Nutt's _Voyage of Bran_;

S. Hayes O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_;

De Jubainville, _Cycle Mythologique_.

HIS THREE CALLS TO CORMAC.--

Whitley Stokes, _Irische Texte_.

CLIODNA'S WAVE.--

S. Hayes O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_;

Whitley Stokes, _Dinnsenchus_.

HIS CALL TO CONNLA.--

O'Beirne Crowe, _Kilkenny Arch. Journal_;

Windisch, _Irische Texte_.

TADG IN THE ISLANDS.--

S. Hayes O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_.

LAEGAIRE IN THE HAPPY PLAIN.--

S.H. O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_;

Kuno Meyer in Nutt's _Voyage of Bran_.

FATE OF THE CHILDREN OF LIR.--

O'Curry, _Atlantis_.

PART TWO. THE FIANNA

THE COMING OF FINN, AND FINN'S HOUSEHOLD.--

_Proceedings Ossianic Society_;

Kuno Meyer, _Four Songs of Summer and Winter_;

_Revue Celtique_;

S. Hayes O'Grady, _Silva Gaedelica_;

Curtin's _Folk Tales_.

BIRTH OF BRAN.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

OISIN'S MOTHER.--

Kennedy, _Legendary Fictions Irish Celts_;

Mac Innis;

_Leabhar na Feinne_.

BEST MEN OF THE FIANNA.--

Dean of Lismore's Book;

_Silva Gaedelica;

Leabhar na Feinne_.

LAD OF THE SKINS.--

_Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_;

Larminie's _Folk Tales_;

Curtin's _Tales_.

THE HOUND.--

_Silva Gaedelica_;

Whitley Stokes, _Dinnsenchus_.

RED RIDGE.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

BATTLE OF THE WHITE STRAND.--

Kuno Meyer, _Anec. Oxonienses_;

Hanmer's _Chronicle_;

Dean of Lismore;

Curtin's _Tales_;

_Silva Gaedelica_.

KING OF BRITAIN'S SON.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

THE CAVE OF CEISCORAN.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

DONN, SON OF MIDHIR.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

HOSPITALITY OF CUANNA'S HOUSE.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

CAT-HEADS AND DOG-HEADS.--

Dean of Lismore;

_Leabhar na Feinne_;

Campbell's _Popular Tales of the Western Highlands_.

LOMNA'S HEAD.--

O'Curry, _Orc. Treith_, O'Donovan, ed. Stokes.

ILBREC OF ESS RUADH.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

CAVE OF CRUACHAN.--

Stokes, _Irische Texts._

WEDDING AT CEANN SLIEVE.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

THE SHADOWY ONE.--

O'Curry.

FINN'S MADNESS.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

THE RED WOMAN.--

Hyde, _Sgealuidhe Gaedhealach_.

FINN AND THE PHANTOMS.--

Kuno Meyer, _Revue Celtique_.

THE PIGS OF ANGUS.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

HUNT OF SLIEVE CUILINN.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

OISIN'S CHILDREN.--

O'Curry;

_Leabhar na Feinne_;

Campbell's _Popular Tales of the Western Highlands_;

Stokes, _Irische Texte_;

Dean of Lismore;

_Celtic Magazine_;

_Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_.

BIRTH OF DIARMUID.--

_Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grania_

(Society for Preservation of the Irish Language);

Campbell's _Popular Tales_.

HOW DIARMUID GOT HIS LOVE-SPOT.--

Hyde, _Sgealuidhe Gaedhealach_.

DAUGHTER OF KING UNDER-WAVE.--

Campbell's _Popular Tales_.

THE HARD SERVANT.--

_Silva Gaedelica_.

HOUSE OF THE QUICKEN TREES.--

MSS. in Royal Irish Academy, and in Dr Hyde's possession.

DIARMUID AND GRANIA.--

Text Published by S. Hayes O'Grady,

_Proc. Ossianic Society_,

and re-edited by N. O'Duffey for

Society for Preservation of the Irish Language;

Kuno Meyer, _Revue Celtique_, and _Four Songs_;

_Leabhar na Feinne_;

Campbell's _Popular Tales_;

_Kilkenny Arch. Journal_;

_Folk Lore_, vol. vii., 1896;

Dean of Lismore;

Nutt, _Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_.

CNOC-AN-AIR, ETC.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_.

WEARING AWAY OF THE FIANNA.--

_Silva Gaedelica_;

Dean of Lismore;

_Leabhar na Feinne_;

Campbell's _Popular Tales_;

_Proc. Ossianic Society_;

O'Curry;

_Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition_;

Stokes, _Irische Texte_.

THE END OF THE FIANNA.--

Hyde, _Sgealuidhe Gaedhealach_;

_Proc. Ossianic Society_;

_Silva Gaedelica_;

Miss Brooke's _Reliques_;

_Annals of the Four Masters_;

_Celtic Magazine_.

OISIN AND PATRICK, AND OISIN'S LAMENTS.--

_Proc. Ossianic Society_;

Dean of Lismore;

_Kilkenny Arch, fournal_;

Curtin's _Tales_.

I have taken Grania's sleepy song, and the description of Finn's shield

and of Cumhal's treasure-bag, and the fact of Finn's descent from

Ethlinn, from _Duanaire Finn_, now being edited for the Irish Texts

Society by Mr John MacNeill, the proofs of which I have been kindly

allowed to see. And I have used sometimes parts of stories, or comments

on them gathered directly from the people, who have kept these heroes so

much in mind. The story of Caoilte coming to the help of the King of

Ireland in a dark wood is the only one I have given without either a

literary or a folk ancestry. It was heard or read by Mr Yeats, he cannot

remember where, but he had, with it in his mind, written of "Caoilte's

burning hair" in one of his poems.

I and my readers owe special thanks to those good workers in the

discovery of Irish literature, Professor Kuno Meyer and Mr Whitley

Stokes, translators of so many manuscripts; and to my friend and kinsman

Standish Hayes O'Grady, for what I have taken from that wonderful

treasure-house, his _Silva Gaedelica_.

IV. THE PRONUNCIATION

This is the approximate pronunciation of some of the more difficult

names:

Adhnuall Ai-noo-al.

Ailbhe. Alva.

Almhuin All-oon, _or_ Alvin.

Aobh Aev, _or_ Eev.

Aodh Ae (rhyming to "day").

Aoibhill Evill.

Aoife Eefa.

Badb Bibe.

Beltaine,

or Bealtaine Bal-tinna.

Bladhma Bly-ma.

Bodb Dearg Bove Darrig.

Caoilte Cweeltia.

Cam Ruidhe Corn Rwee.

Ciabhan Kee-a-van.

Cliodna Cleevna.

Coincheann Kun-Kann.

Crann Buidhe Cran bwee.

Credhe Crae-a.

Cumhal Coo-al.

Deaghadh D'ya-a.

Dubhthach Duffach.

Duibhreann Dhiv-ran.

Duibhrium Dhiv-rinn.

Dun Doon.

Eimher Aevir.

Emhain Avvin.

Eochaid Eohee.

Eoghan Owen.

Fionnchad Finn-ach-a.

Fodhla Fóla.

Fodla Fola.

Gallimh Gol-yiv.

Glas Gaibhnenn Glos Gov-nan.

Leith Laeig Leh Laeg.

Loch Dairbhreach Loch Darvragh.

Lugaidh Loo-ee, _or_ Lewy.

Lugh Loo.

Magh an Ionganaidh Moy-in-eean-ee.

Magh Cuillean Moy Cullin.

Magh Feabhail Moy Fowl.

Magh Macraimhe Moy Mucrivva.

Magh Mell Moy Mal.

Magh Rein Moy Raen.

Magh Tuireadh Moytirra.

Manannan Mananaun.

Midhe Mee.

Midhna Mec-na.

Mochaomhog Mo-cwecv-og.

Muadhan Moo-aun.

Murchadh Murachu.

Nemhnain Now-nin.

Niamh Nee-av.

Og Og.

Rath Medba,

or Meadhbha Ra Maev-a.

Rudraighe Rury.

Samhain Sow-in.

Scathniamh Scau-nee-av.

Sceolan Skolaun.

Searbhan Sharavaun.

Sidhe Shee.

Slieve Echtge Sleev Acht-ga.

Tadg Teig.

Teamhair T'yower, _or_ Tavvir.

Tuatha de Danaan Too-a-ha dae Donnan.

Tuathmumhain Too-moon.

I have not followed a fixed rule as to the spelling of Irish names; I

have taken the spelling I give from various good authorities, but they

vary so much that, complete accuracy not being easy, I sometimes look to

custom and convenience. I use, for instance, "Slieve" for "Sliabh,"

because it comes so often, and a mispronunciation would spoil so many

names. I have treated "Inbhir" (a river mouth) in the same way, spelling

it "Inver," and even adopting it as an English word, because it is so

useful. The forty scholars of the New School of Old Irish will do us

good service if they work at the question both of spelling and of

pronunciation of the old names and settle them as far as is possible.

V. THE PLACE NAMES

Accuill Achill, Co. Mayo.

Aine Cliach Cnoc Aine, Co. Limerick.

Almhuin Near Kildare.

Ath Cliath Dublin.

Athluain Athlone.

Ath na Riogh Athenry.

Badhamain Cahir, Co. Tipperary.

Baile Cronin Barony of Imokilty, Co. Cork.

Banna The Bann.

Beare Berehaven.

Bearna na Eadargana Roscommon.

Bearnas Mor Co. Donegal.

Beinn Gulbain Benbulban, Co. Sligo.

Beire do Bhunadas Berehaven.

Bel-atha Senaig Ballyshannon.

Belgata In Connemara.

Benna Boirde Source of the Bann and Mourne Mountains.

Berramain Near Tralee.

Bhas River Bush.

Boinn River Boyne.

Bri Leith Co. Longford.

Cairbre Carbury.

Cairgin Three miles south of Londonderry.

Carrthach River River Carra, near Dunkerrin Mountains.

Ceanntaile Kinsale.

Ceiscorainn Co. Sligo.

Cill Dolun Killaloe, Co. Clare.

Cliodna's Wave At Glandore, Co. Cork.

Cluantarbh Clontarf.

Cnoc Aine Co. Limerick.

Cnoc-an-Air Co. Kerry.

Cnoc na righ Co. Sligo.

Corca Duibhne Corcaguiny, Co. Kerry.

Corrslieve Carlow Mountains.

Crotta Cliach Galtee Mountains.

Cruachan Co. Roscommon.

Cruachan Aigle Croagh Patrick.

Doire a Cairn Derrycarn, Co. Meath.

Doire-da-Bhoth In Slieve Echtge.

Druim Cleibh Co. Sligo.

Druim Lis Near Loch Gill.

Druimscarha Near River Arighis, Co. Cork.

Dun Sobairce Dunsevenh, Co. Antrim.

Durlas Thurles.

Ess Dara Near Sligo.

Ess Ruadh Assaroe, Co. Donegal.

Fidh Gaible Fergill, Co. Sligo.

Finntraighe Ventry.

Fionn The Finn.

Fionnabraic Kilfenna, Co. Clare.

Fionntutach Co. Limerick.

Fleisge Co. Kerry.

Gabhra Near Tara.

Gaibh atha na Fiann River Leamhar, flows from Killarney.

Gairech and Ilgairech Hills near Mullingar.

Gallimh Galway.

Gleann na Caor Co. Cork.

Gullach Dollairb Barony of Rathconrath.

Hill of Bairnech Near Killarney.

Hill of Uisnech Co. Westmeath.

Inver Cechmaine East coast of Ulster.

Inver Colpa Drogheda.

Inver Slane N.E. of Leinster.

Irrus Domnann Erris, Co. Mayo.

Island of Toraig Tory Island, Co. Donegal.

Laoi River Lee.

Leith Laoi Leitrim.

Linn Feic Near Slaney.

Loch Bel Sead Co. Tipperary.

Loch Cé Co. Roscommon.

Loch Dairbhreach Loch Derryvaragh, Co. Westmeath.

Loch Deirg Dheirc Loch Derg on the Shannon.

Loch Eirne Loch Erne.

Loch Feabhail Loch Foyle.

Loch Lein Killarney.

Loch Orbson Loch Corrib.

Loch na-n Ean In Co. Roscommon.

Lough Neatach Loch Neagh.

Luimneach Limerick.

Maev Mhagh Plain about Loughrea.

Magh Cobha Iveagh, Co. Down.

Magh Cuilenn Moycullen, Co. Galway.

Magh Femen Co. Tipperary.

Magh Larg Co. Roscommon.

Magh Leine King's County.

Magh Luirg Co. Roscommon.

Magh Maini Co. Wexford.

Magh Mucraimhe Near Athenry.

Magh Nia Same as Magh Tuireadh.

Magh Rein Co. Leitrim.

Magh Tuireadh Moytura near Sligo, scene of great

battle, and Moytura, near

Cong, scene of first battle.

March of Finnliath River Lee, near Tralee.

Midhe Meath, west of Ardagh.

Mis Geadh In Bay of Erris.

Muaid River Moy.

Muc-inis Muckinish, off Connemara.

Nas Naas.

Nem The Nem.

Oenach Clochan Morristown, Co. Limerick.

Osraige Ossory.

Paps of Dana Co. Kerry.

Portlairge Waterford.

River Maigh Co. Limerick.

Ros da Shioleach Limerick.

Ruirlech Liffey.

Samair R. Cumhair, runs through Bruff.

Sionnan River Shannon.

Siuir River Suir, Co. Tipperary.

Siuir and Beoir Suir and Nore and Barrow.

and Berba

Slieve Baisne Co. Roscommon.

Slieve Bladmai Slieve Bloom.

Slieve Buane Slieve Banne, Co. Roscommon.

Slieve Conaill Border of Leitrim and Donegal.

Slieve Crot Co. Tipperary.

Slieve Cua Co. Waterford.

Slieve Cua

and Slieve Crot In Galtee Mountains.

Slieve Cuailgne Co. Louth.

Slieve Echtge Co. Galway.

Slieve Fuad Co. Armagh.

Slieve Guaire Co. Cavan.

Slieve Luchra Co. Kerry.

Slieve Lugha Co. Mayo.

Slieve Mis Co. Kerry.

Slieve Muice Co. Tipperary.

Slieve-nam-Ban Co. Tipperary

Sligach Sligo.

Srub Bruin In West Kerry.

Sruth na Maoile Mull of Cantire.

Tailltin Telltown.

Teamhair Tara, Co. Meath.

Teunhair Luchra Near Castle Island, Co. Kerry.

The Beith River Behy, Barony of Dunkerrin.

The Beoir The Berba.

The Islands of Mod In Clew Bay.

The Lemain River Laune, Co. Kerry.

The Muaidh River Moy, Co. Sligo.

Tonn Toime Toines, near Killarney.

Traigh Eothaile Near Ballisodare.

Tuathmumain Thomond.

Ui Chonaill Gabhra Co. Limerick.

Ui Fiachraih, Fiachraig Co. Mayo.

Wave of Rudraighe Bay of Dundrum.

End of Project Gutenberg's Gods and Fighting Men, by Lady I. A. Gregory