I have heard a tale of old,
A tale that should make us weep;
’Tis time to relate it sadly,
Although it should fill us with grief.
Rury’s[114] race of no soft grasp,
Children of Connor and Connal;
Bravely their youth did take the field,
In Ulster’s noble province.
None with joy returned home
Of Banva’s proudest heroes.
For as they once more tried the fight,
Rury’s race did win the day.
There came to us, fierce his mien,
The dauntless warrior, Conlach,
To learn of our beauteous land,
From Dunscaich[115] to Erin.
Connor spoke thus to his men,
“Who’s prepared to meet the youth,
And of him to take account;
Who will take no refusal?”
Then the strong-armed Connal went,
Of the youth to take account;
The end of their fight was this,
Conlach had bound Connal.
Yet the hero did not halt,
Conlach, brave and vigorous,
He bound a hundred of our men,
It is a strange and mournful tale.
To the hounds’ great chief[116] a message
Was sent by Ulster’s wise king,
To sunny, fair Dundalgin,[117]
The old, wise fort of the Gael,
That stronghold of which we read,
And the prudent daughter of Forgan.[118]
From thence came he of great deeds
To see our generous king;
To know of Ulster’s great race,
There came to us the red branch[119] Cu,
His teeth like pearl, cheeks like berries.
“Long,” said Connor to the Cu,
“Has been thine aid in coming,
While Connal, who loves bold steeds,
Is bound and a hundred more.”
“Sad for me to be thus bound,
Friend, who could’st soon unloose me.”
“I couldn’t encounter his sword,
And that he has bound brave Connal.”
“Refuse not to attack him,
Prince of the sharp, blue sword,
Whose arm ne’er quailed in conflict,
Think of thy patron now in bonds.”
When Cuchullin of the thin-leaved sword
Heard the lament of Connal,
He moved in his arm’s great might
To take of the youth account.
“Tell us now that I have come,
Youth who fearest not the fight,
Tell us now, and tell at once,
Thy name, and where’s thy country?”
“Ere I left home I had to pledge
That I should never that relate;
Were I to tell to living man,
For thy love’s sake I’d tell it thee.”
“Then must thou with me battle do,
Or tell thy tale as a friend.
Choose for thyself, dear youth,
But mind, to fight me is a risk.
Let us not fight, I pray thee,
Brave leopard, pride of Erin,
Boldest in the battle field,
My name I would tell unbought.”
Then did they commence the fight,
Nor was it the fight of women.
The youth received a deadly wound,
He of the vigorous arm.
Yet did Cuchullin of battles,
The victory on that day lose.
His only son had fallen, slain,
That fair, soft branch, so gentle, brave.
“Tell us now,” said skilful Cu,
“Since thou art at our mercy,
Thy name and race, tell us in full,
Think not to refuse thy tale.”
“Conlach I, Cuchullin’s son,
Lawful heir of great Dundalgin,
It was I thou left’st unborn,
When in Skiath[120] thou wast learning.
Seven years in the east I spent,
Gaining knowledge from my mother;
The pass by which I have been slain
Was all I needed still to learn.”
Then does the great Cuchullin see[121]
His dear son’s colour change;
As of his generous heart he thinks,
His memory and mind forsake him;
His body’s excellency departs,
His grief it was destroyed it;
Seeing as he lay on the earth
The rightful heir of Dundalgin;
Where shall we find his like,
Or how detail our grief?
I have.
[113] This is the composition of a Poet of whom we know nothing save
what we find in this volume. From a poem of his in praise of the
M’Gregors, he would appear to have been a Scotchman. The name signifies
Malcom, the son of the chief bard or the physician. It is found still
in the form of M’Inally. This poem is the Celtic edition of the Persian
tale of Zohrab and Rustum. The incidents are so similar, that the two
tales must have had a common origin. Whether the Persians received
the tale from the Celts, or the Celts from the Persians, or both from
some other and older source, it is hard to say. The composition is in
Gaelic, usually called, “Bàs Chonlaoich,” or _The death of Conlach_.
[114] Clann Rughraidh, a powerful race, who occupied the province of
Ulster at an early period, after having expelled the Clann Deaghaidh,
or the Dalcassians, afterwards of Munster.
[115] Dunscaich, a stronghold in the Isle of Skye, on the coast of
Sleat, of which the ruins still exist.
[116] Cuchullin, or the hound of Cullin, was a famous Celtic warrior,
whose fame is celebrated both in Scotland and Ireland. The name is a
curious one, and is thought by some critics to indicate the existence
of Anubis worship, or the worship of the dog, among the ancient Celts.
There is a Cullin in Skye, and another in Ireland. From which of these
the name was taken it is difficult to say. Certainly the Skye mountain
is by far the more magnificent natural object, and Dunscaich is
unquestionably in Skye.
[117] Dundalgin is said to be the modern Dundalk.
[118] Cuchullin’s wife is said to have been unwilling that he should
engage Conlach.
[119] Cù is a dog or hound. The “red branch” heroes were the knights
of Ulster, the most famous of the Irish military orders. Cuchullin is
often called “Cù nan con,” or _The hound of hounds_.
[120] The Isle of Skye.
[121] The touching incident in this story is the death of the son
by the hand of his own father. It is said that Conlach’s mother, in
revenge for Cuchullin’s forsaking her, had laid her plans for securing
this object, and had sent her son into Ireland under vow never to
disclose his name until overcome in battle.