Once on a time as Patrick of the holy crook
Betook him to his cell,
He sought as his companion
Ossian of gentle mien.
Now let me hear, he said,
Ossian, whose courage has made foes retreat,
Who of all those whom thou ne’er sang’st,
Most vexed the Feine of Finn?
Priest of the spotted crook,[52]
Thy lifetime it would take
To tell in human speech
The glory of the Feine of Finn.
[50] The Irish call this word “Arpluinn,” in Latin, “Calphurnius.” In
the Highlands the name is uniformly “Alpin,”--“Padruig mac Alpain.”
[51] This composition the Irish call the battle of “Ventry Harbour,” a
place in the county of Kerry in Ireland. There are, however, Fintrays
in Scotland, which are apparently the same name, and Mr. Skene has
called the attention of the writer to the fact, that there is a Sgùir
Dhaire dhuinn, “the hill of Daire donn,” in Duror in Argyleshire.
Irish Antiquaries say the battle was fought in the third century
between the Féine of Ireland and Daire donn, or Daire the brown, King
of the world. It will be seen in this copy that Daire is introduced
as King of Lochlin or Scandinavia, although afterwards called King of
the world. It is very probable that both to the Scotch and Irish Celt
Scandinavia was at this period synonymous with the world. This poem is
here attributed to Ossian, although it is very doubtful whether it is
so in the MS. The writing is so indistinct, that it is impossible to
read the title correctly. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader
that the poem is in the form of a dialogue between the bard, whoever
he may be, and St. Patrick. The name of the saint seems to have been a
favourite one with the bards, and was used no doubt to give consequence
and currency to their compositions.
[52] The crozier of St. Patrick. Several ancient Celtic croziers are
still in existence. Two are well known in Scotland. One of them is the
Quigrich, or crozier of St. Fillan, now in possession of a family of
the name of Dewar in Canada, to whose progenitor it was intrusted by
Robert Bruce at the battle of Bannockburn. An interesting notice of
this relic has recently been published by Dr. D. Wilson of Toronto.
Another is the crozier of St. Munn, now in the Museum of the Society of
Antiquaries in Scotland, and long in possession of a family called the
Barons of Bachul (a _crozier_, from the Latin _Baculus_), in the island
of Lismore. A notice of this relic will be found in the transactions
of the Scottish Antiquaries, from the able pen of Mr. Cosmo Innes. The
word “breac,” or _spotted_, applied to the crozier, must refer to its
ornamentation. The term will be found elsewhere applied to spears or
swords.
Since without guile thou art,
And now that they are dead, dost live,
Watch thou for ever on,
And tell the deeds done by the Feine.
Should I be spared for fifty years,
Hearing thy music in thy cell
Till my death’s day, I could not tell
The noble deeds of the Feine of Finn.
The kingdoms of the earth in all its breadth
Belonged to us on every side.
Tribute we raised from all of them for Finn,[53]
Else filled them with the shout of war.
In this wide earth there was not one
That dared refuse us,
Not ev’n in Alve[54] of the spotted spears,
With all its power and its untold renown.
[53] This is a curious piece of Bardic exaggeration. But there may be
some history hidden within its folds. There is sufficient evidence to
prove that the Féine, whoever they were, were not confined to Ireland.
We have numerous ancient Celtic compositions in which reference is made
to the Féine of Scotland, and the Féine of Britain, meaning either
Wales, or England and Wales together. The truth with regard to Finn and
his Féine seems even yet to be a long way off.
[54] This is said to be “Almhuin,” or Allen, the residence of Finn,
according to Irish accounts, in the county of Kildare. The word has
a strong resemblance to “Alba,” the Gaelic name for Scotland; and in
reading ancient Gaelic MSS., care must be taken to distinguish the two.
We give the name in the Dean’s orthography, whatever the place may be.
Would’st thou but tell them now,
Ossian, of the fierce assaults,
Which was the stoutest arm
Among the men that followed Finn.
Thou sett’st me to a painful task,
O Priest, thou pupil of the heavenly king,
I could not till the judgment day,
Tell of the Feine, the men and deeds.
Yet since it so fell out that thou outliv’st them
Ossian of sweet and pleasing songs,
Which would’st thou chuse of all the Feinn,
To stand in battle by thy shield?
Oscar and Caoilte and Gaul,
And Luthy’s son, of sharpest swords;
Round Cumhal’s son,[55] they well might stand,
No nobler band in battle fought;
Bloody Fargon, son to the king,
And Carroll with the murderous spear;
Dermin, brave and fair, who nothing feared,
And bore his pointed shield aloft,
Coll Caoilte’s son, so gentle at the feast;
Corc, a warrior of no tender blows;
Ryno, son to the king;--
A band than which no braver fought.
The fair-haired Fillan, who was son to Finn,
And Garry, than whom no bloodier foe;
The guileless Dyrin, Doveran’s son,
Hugh, son of Garry of the powerful arm,
I, myself, and Gaul the son of Smail,
And Daire of oaken frame, brave Ronan’s son;
The armourer’s three sons, men without guile,
Whose ruddy armour gleamed, adorned with gold.
Now that I tell my tale to thee,
Cleric that dwell’st at Port-na-minna,
No man of all the Feine was known to me
But one, to whom all other men must yield.
But, now, do thou be seated in thy chair,
Take up thy pen, we’ll number all the host,
The host of brave and noble men
Who came, well-ordered bands, unto the Feine.
Across the sea the King of Lochlin came,
The brown-haired[56] Daire of famous shield,
From Conn to wrest the tribute paid by Erin,
A mournful tale for us and all our host.
Our Feinn had friends who came to give them aid,
Men from the sides of every hill,
Led on by Cairbar of the sinewy arm.
Of these four bands came safe to land.
Of the Feinn themselves came seven bands,
Three from the east, the half of Erin called from Conn.[57]
The greater number in the battle fell,
But few escaped the bands of Daire donn.
Down with his fleet lay Daire donn
Himself and all his host.
Of these were thirty score[58]
Who ne’er again did see their native land.
There watched them near the shore
Conn Crithear of the well-aimed strokes.
He seized the men of India there,
And raised the king’s head on the mountain side.
This famous Conn, the son of Ulster’s king,
And Dollir, no less famed for warlike deeds,
We left upon the strand,
Drowned in mutual clasp beneath the waves.
Dathach’s three sons, no braver men,
Ascending from the place where lay the ships,
Feartan and Kerkal, he with the large round head,
We left their bodies naked on the strand.
Owar,[59] the armed daughter of the King of Greece,
And Forna of the heavy sturdy blows
We left, a vacant grin upon their faces.
We knew no sorrow as we left them there.
Four of the King of Lochlin’s sons we left,
Slain by our fierce, resistless arms.
The three Balas from Borrin in the east,
Hardly escaped our murderous blows.
Great as was the king of the world,
Daire donn, with shield of purest white,
We left his body, too, upon the strand,
Slain by the blows of the victorious Feine.
Of all the world’s hosts, brave though they were,
None did escape the slaughter
Except the King of France alone,
Who, like a swallow as it grasps the air,
Fled from fear of noble Oscar,
And even once his sole ne’er touched the earth
Until he got to Glenabaltan, as men relate;
Then and there only did he find him rest.
It was on Fintray’s strand, down at the sea,
Our people made this slaughter,
Of these, the kings of all the world,
And drank our full of vengeance.
Our fierce and conquering arms
Laid many a noble warrior low;
Many a sword and shield
Lay shattered on the strand,
The strand of Fintray of the port;
Many dead bodies lay upon the earth,
Many a hero with a vacant grin.
Much was the spoil we gathered in the fight.
Patrick, son of noble Alpin,
Even of the Feine themselves, none did escape
The fierce and murderous fight
Except two ordered bands,
Nor were their bodies whole.
The sons of Boisgne[60] made one band of those,
A race, with hands that knew no tender grasp,
Then came the sons of Morn,[61] who with the sons of Smail
Made up the second band.
By thy hand, O noble Priest
In that sore fight, there perished of our Feine
Five well-trained bands
Who left us for the strand.
Thirty luckless bands,
A thousand score in each,
We numbered of the men of Daire donn,
That never reached the waves.
Were I to answer thee, O Priest,
As thou desir’st to hear my every tale,
Down to the time we[62] Gawra’s battle fought,
We never lost our power.
Then did we seize the ships;
We took the heavy silver of the king,
The gold, the garments, and the other spoil;
Each half of Erin had its share.
Holy Patrick of the relics,
Shall I meet death within thy house of prayer?
Cover thou my form with earth,
Since thou knowest well my tale.
Ossian, since thou art wearied now,
Make thy peace, that thou may’st die,
Take up thy prayer and ask for mercy,
Early each day call on thy God,
And when, on the judgment day, thou reachest Sion,
Where all men shall be gathered,
May Michael, Mary, and the Son of God
Take thee kindly by the hand.
May the Twelve Apostles, with their song of praise,
Each holy cleric, and each prophet,
Me save from hell,
For I’ve been very sinful in my day.
Once on a time.[63]
[55] Finn was Cumhal’s son. The word is pronounced “Finn mac
Cúil,”--very much as M’Dougal is pronounced in the speaking of Gaelic.
The writer has been led to think that traces of “Cual” (Cumhal) might
be found in the King Coil of Ayrshire. The whole region about the scene
of Coil’s territory and sepulchre has been purely Celtic, and the grave
itself bears marks of being constructed in the early Celtic method.
[56] As already observed, Daire donn, or “Daire the brown,” is called
here the King of Lochlin.
[57] Ireland was divided into two great sections: the northern, called
Leth Chuinn, or Conn’s half, from Conn of the hundred battles, King of
Ulster; the southern, called Leth Mhogha, or Mogh’s half, called from
Mogha Nuadhat, King of Munster, both in the second century.
[58] The Celts always count by twenties up to 400. When a Highlander
speaks of 340 or 360 of anything, he uniformly says seventeen score or
eighteen score. The numbers given here are an instance of the poetic
license.
[59] This daughter of the King of Greece is well known in Celtic
tradition. In Mr. J. F. Campbell’s _Tales of the West Highlands_, vol.
ii. p. 470, it will be seen that traces of her existence are found
still in the island of Barra. Greece was not unknown to the ancients.
Cæsar tells us that the Gauls, although not committing their religious
mysteries to paper, in common writing which was familiar to them, used
the Greek letters. This is a remarkable statement, and one of which
too little use has been made in discussing the social condition of the
early Gael. At the same time, we learn from the history of the Gallic
war that the literature of Gaul was drawn from Britain, at least her
priests studied there, which can have no other meaning.
[60] The race of the Féine to which Finn belonged. The Irish say they
occupied Leinster and the eastern part of Ulster.
[61] The race to which the famous Gaul belonged. They are said to
have occupied Connaught and the west of Ireland. These are the Irish
accounts, and must be taken as contributions to a correct elucidation
of the history of these events, if they have a real history.
[62] A poem on this famous battle will be found in a subsequent part of
this collection.
[63] It will be seen in this and the previous pieces, that the first
few lines are repeated at the close of every poem. This practice
is uniformly followed in all ancient Celtic Poetry, and is a sure
indication that we have reached the end of the piece.
The author of this is Ossian:
Feeble this night is the power of my arm,
My strength is no more as it was;
No wonder though I should mourn,
Poor old relic that I am;
Sad that such should be my lot,
Beyond all men who tread the earth,
Wearily dragging stones along
To the church on the hill of the priest.
I have a tale which I would tell
Regarding our people, O Patrick:
Listen to Finn’s prediction.
Shortly ere thou cam’st, O Priest,
The hero was to build a fort,
On Cuailgne’s[64] bare and rounded hill.
He laid it on the Feine of Fail[65]
Materials for the work to get.
Two-thirds of all his famous fort
He laid upon the sons of Morn;
The other third he laid on me,
And on the other sons of Boisgne.
I answered, but not aright,
The son of Cumhal, son of Trenmor.
I said I would cast off his rule,
And would submit to him no more.
Then for long Finn held his peace,
The hero hard to vanquish,
He who knew no guile nor fear,
When my answer he had heard,
His words to me were these,
The words of Finn, prince of the Feine:
[64] A hill said to be in the county of Armagh, celebrated in the
ancient poem of “Tain bo Chuailgne,” or “The cattle spoil of Cuilinn.”
It is said to have been here that Cuchullin resided, whence probably
his name, Cu Chuailgne, or Cuchullin, the Hound of Cuillinn. In Irish
History Cuchullin is said to have lived a couple of centuries previous
to the era of Fingal.
The reader may be reminded that there is a mountain in Skye called
Cuilinn, one of the grandest of the Scottish mountains. The person
from whom both this and the Irish hills of the name were called, is
said to have been Cuilionn, a Druidical priest of great fame. The word
means also the Holly tree, from whence the derivation is sufficiently
probable.
[65] “Fail” is an ancient name for Ireland. The word signifies _fate_;
hence “Innisfail,” or the “Island of fate,” or, more probably, “the
sacred island.”
Thou shalt be dragging stones awhile
Ere to thy mournful home thou goest.
Then did I rise up in wrath,
From Cumhal’s son of bloody sword.
There followed me of all the Feine,
The fourth battalion, hardy and brave.
Then was I long with the Feine,
On all things I my judgment gave.
Many were there with me then,
But now, alas, I’m feeble, feeble;
I was counsellor to the Feine,
In all emergencies, how feeble.
How many men that do not know
That on this earth I’m feeble, feeble.
This night my body’s frame is feeble,
Patrick, I believe thy words.
My hands, my feet, and head,
All of them are feeble, feeble.
Feeble, etc.
The author of this is Ossian:
Here have I seen the Feine,
I have seen Conan and Gaul,
Finn, and Oscar my son,
Ryno, Art, and brown-haired Diarmad,[66]
Brave M’Luy,[67] he of noble mien,
The red-haired Garry,[68] also Hugh the less,
Hugh Garry’s son, who never quailed,
The three Finns, and with them Fead,
Glass and Gow and Garry,
The long-haired Galve, and the impetuous Conan;[69]
Gaul and Crooin, Gaul’s son,
Socach, the son of Finn, and Bran;[70]
Caoilte, the son of warlike Ronan,[71]
Who swiftest ran, and leaped o’er valleys,
The readiest to scatter gold,
One of them of sweetest voice;
Bayne, son of Brassil of the swords,
The son of Cromchin, son of Smail,
And Oscar, son of powerful Garry,[72]
The three Balas, and the three Skails,
Three battalions from Glenstroil,
Three bands from Monaree;
Caoilte’s seven sons best trained to fight;
The three named Glass from Glassrananseir;
The three Beths from Cnokandurd,
Three of unfailing excellence;
Deach Fichid’s son from Borruinn mor,
Of them who always conquered.
Here have I seen the Feine
Whose liberal hand did music buy,[73]
Ranged around Ossian and Finn,
Traversing valleys to dispense their gold.
Fearton and brave Carroll were there,
Who never fought but where they won.
I sing them, and generous Felan,
All of whom here have I seen.
Here have I seen.
[66] Diarmad was the Adonis of the Feine. He is celebrated for his
beauty, which led finally to his death, as will be seen in a future
poem. He is said to have been the Ancestor of the clan Campbell, who
are hence called “Clann Diarmaid,” or the “children of Diarmad.” The
M’Diarmads, as well as some other subordinate clans, are also said to
be of the same stock.
[67] A grandson of Finn by his son Daire dearg. His mother’s name was
Luigheach, whence he was called the son of Luigheach, pronounced Luy.
He was a famous man among the Feine, according to Irish authorities.
[68] There were several among the Feine of this name. The name is
widely known in the topography of Scotland. There are two Rivers Garry,
two lochs, and two large rivers. These are found in Inverness-shire and
Perthshire.
[69] Conan is usually called “Conan maol,” or “Conan the bald,”
and was known among the Feine for his thoughtless impetuosity. He
was, in consequence of this peculiar temperament, ever getting into
difficulties, and exposing himself to the ridicule and reprehension of
his companions. There are both a river and valley in Scotland called
after him, the River Conan and Strathconan in Rosshire.
[70] “Bran,” the name of Finn’s celebrated hound, is here obviously the
name of a man. There is a “strath” or valley in Rosshire which still
retains his name, Strathbran. The extent to which Fenian names are
found in Scottish topography, goes far to show the close connexion of
the Feine themselves with that country.
[71] Caoilte was one of the most famous of the Feine. He was
distinguished for his swiftness, and not without reason, as is shown
in his chase of Loinn mac Liobhaidh, the Fenian blacksmith, whom he
overtook, although he could cross a valley at a stride.
[72] This Oscar must be distinguished from the famous Oscar, the Poet’s
son. Of the latter he never speaks without applying to him some term of
endearment, as “my son,” “my own son,” etc.
[73] This line refers to the liberal rewards which the Bards usually
received among the Celts. A eulogy was sometimes rewarded by the Chief
with a silver cup. Even poetry had need to be purchased; and probably
were it not for the hope of reward of some kind, many of the noblest
Poems which have adorned human history would never have seen the light.
At a meeting of Skye gentlemen on some public occasion some years
ago, the question was put, “Where are the bards?” One of the company
replied, “They are gone.” “No,” said Nicolson of Scorrybreck, “they are
still with us; but the men who fostered them are gone.”