Bits of Blarney

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by R. Shelton Mackenzie


  FINN AND THE FISH.

  In the good old times, "when Malachi wore the collar of gold, which hewon from the proud invader," no Irish hero was more celebrated than FinnMac Coul. What cabin is there, from the Giant's Causeway to Cape Clear,which is not full of his glory?

  Finn Mac Coul was famous for his strength of mind and body, for hiswisdom and his might. The Saxons fled before him when he unfurledIreland's ancient banner--which bore the poetical name of TheSunburst--and thousands arrayed themselves around it; mountain and vale,plain and tarn, hall and bower, were full of the glory of his gracefuldeeds of gentle courtesy. His mighty mind was suitably lodged, for hewas tall as one of the sons of Anak, and might have passed for ownbrother to him of Gath.

  Before relating any of his wonderful bodily achievements, it may be aswell to mention the mysterious manner in which his wisdom, like atangible revelation, fell upon him.

  In the ancient days of Ireland's glory, the province of Munster was aKingdom, and was called Momonia. One of the Mac Carthy family hadsovereign sway. He was a good-natured, soft-hearted, fat-headed sort ofneutral character--one of that class, still too common in Ireland, knownby the apologetic _sobriquet_ of "nobody's enemy but his own." He keptopen house for all comers, and the effect of his undiscriminatinghospitality was, that, a monarch in name, he was next to a pauper inreality, living, as the saying is, quite "from hand to mouth." This hecould have borne, for, like the eels, he was used to it, but the emptystate of his exchequer rendered him unable to pay for the militaryservices of his subjects, and the result was, that his dominionsgradually fell into a state of partition among his brother monarchs ofgreater power, richer treasury, and smaller hospitality.

  It happened that one of these, named Mac Murragh--an ancestor of himwhose daughter's frailty led to the subjugation of Ireland by HenryII.--ruled over Leinster, while poor Mac Carthy was enjoying nominalempire over the rich plains of Munster. Mac Murragh was ambitious. Hesaw what an easy prey Momonia might be. He wished to feed his herds uponthat beautiful tract of land intersected by the river Suir, which evenyet is called "The Golden Vale," and he declared war to the knifeagainst King Mac Carthy.

  It happened that Mac Carthy was fully aware of the value of the goldenvale--indeed, it was the very pride of his heart. He determined toresist his foe, as best he could. But before taking up arms, on thedefensive, he resolved to have recourse to other than mortal aid.

  It was some time before the avatar of Saint Patrick--that redoubtedpatriarch whose mission it was to teach the benighted Irish the benefitsof religion and the blessings of whiskey. Therefore, under King MacCarthy, Druidism was the "established church." One of the most ancientArch-Druids in Munster resided in a cave near Mitchelstown, dug by hisown hands in one of the Galtee Mountains, and to him, in this emergency,King Mac Carthy betook himself for advice and aid.

  The Arch-Druid was noted, far and near, as an interpreter of dreams, adiviner of auguries, an unraveller of mysteries, and a reader ofprophecies. Common rumor declared that he was master ofenchantments,--that the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed at hiscommand,--that he had communion with spirits from another world, andcould compel them to obey his bidding.

  After the performance of many rites and ceremonies, some penance andmuch prayer, the Arch-Druid asked the King of Munster whether he knewthat part of the West which we now call Mayo? Mac Carthy replied that heought to know it, for he had been brought up there. "Then," said theArch-Druid, "thither we must go. For in one of the rivers which runthrough that district, by the foot of a lofty mountain, there is asalmon, which, if caught, cooked, and eaten, will bestow long life andhealth, wisdom and valor, success in arms and love, upon him who eatsit."

  The King thanked the Arch-Druid for his information, and gave him aliberal largess, when he added that in the book of the future it waswritten that this wonderful fish was predestined to be caught by his ownroyal hands. This put him into excellent spirits, and he proposed to theArch-Druid that they should "make a night of it," which they did, uponmead or metheglin--for, in those days, whiskey had not been invented.

  The next day they set off on their fishing-tour. The way was long, theroads bad, and travelling rather dangerous. But, seating themselves onthe Arch-Druid's cloak, its wizard-owner muttering a few cabalisticwords, forthwith they were wafted, men and cloak, through the air, onthe swift wings of the wind, to the precipitous ridge of hillssurrounding the lofty rock now called Croagh Patrick. The cloak and itstwo passengers finally dropped down on the bank of the river of whichthe Arch-Druid had spoken.

  They followed the course of the stream through one of the most fertilevalleys that sunshine ever glanced upon, until they reached a darkcavern where the struggling waters sink suddenly into the earth. No onehas yet been able to ascertain whither the stream finally goes--whetherit again rises to the earth--whether it runs through a subterraneanchannel, or is sucked in to quench the Phlegethon of this world'scentral fires. No one knows--nor would it much matter if he did.

  Close by the mouth of this cavern is a dark, deep hollow, over which thegloom of eternal night ever seems to rest, and into which the streamfalls before it sinks into the abyss, whirling in foaming eddies,warring as in agony, and casting up a jet of spray into the air. Loudlythe waters roar as they fall on the rugged rock beneath--they arewhirled round and round, until, at regular intervals, they descend intothe yawning gulf beneath.

  In this pool, among thousands of fishes, of all sorts and sizes, was theSalmon of Knowledge, the possession of which was to make King Mac Carthyamazingly wise, and irresistibly mighty. By this pool he sat, in companywith the Arch-Druid, day after day, for a whole month, until theirpatience was nearly, and their provisions wholly, exhausted. They hadsport enough to satisfy Izaak Walton himself, for they were perpetuallycatching fish. There was a little hut hard by, and in it the King andthe Arch-Druid alternately officiated as cook. Still, though he waslatterly on a fish diet, the King grew never the wiser. He got so tiredof that kind of food that historians have gone the length of assertingthat even a Hoboken turtle-feed would have had no charm for his palledappetite. Amid the finest fish that Royalty ever feasted upon, he sighedfor the white and red of his own fine mutton from the green fields ofMunster.

  To add to his misfortune, though he wanted only one salmon, fish of allsorts _would_ hook themselves on to his line. There was perpetualtrouble in taking them off the hook. They determined to judge of thesalmon, as Lavater did of men, by their looks. Therefore the fat andplump fish obtained the dangerous distinction of being broiled orboiled, while the puny ones were thrown back, with the other fish, intothe water.

  Thus it happened that, one evening at dusk, a lank, lean, spent salmonhaving been caught, they did not think it worth cooking, and the Kingtook it up to throw it back into the water. He did not cast it farenough, and the poor fish remained on the bank. It was quietly wrigglingitself back into its native element, when it was espied by a little boywho had a special taste for broiled fish. He seized it, took it home,made a fire, and set about cooking it.

  This youth was the famous Finn Mac Coul:--but he was not famous _then_.He had fled from the South, from some enemies of his family, and, beinghungry, the salmon, poor and lean as it seemed, was better to him thannothing.

  The fire being red, he put the salmon upon it. The poor fish, not quitedead, writhed on the live coals, and the heat caused a great blister toswell out upon its side. Finn Mac Coul noticed this, and, fearing thatthe fish would be spoiled if the blister were to rise any more, pressedhis thumb upon it. The heat soon made him withdraw it. Naturally enough,he put it into his mouth to draw out the pain. At that moment, he felt astrange thrill throughout his whole frame. He was suddenly changed inmind. The moment that thumb touched his lips he had increase ofknowledge. _That_ told him that he could do no better than devour thesalmon. That done, he was a changed Finn--a new and enlarged edition,with additions; quite a tall paper copy.

  That night, Finn Mac Coul quietly strayed down to the cavern
, and foundthe King and the Arch-Druid at high words. His majesty had dreamed, inhis afternoon nap, that the Salmon of Knowledge had been on his hook,and that the Arch-Druid had coaxed it off, and privily cooked and eatenit. Finn told him that the Arch-Druid knew that the salmon could becaught only by a King's hand, but had intended, even before they leftMunster, to cook and eat it himself, and then to usurp the crown. TheArch-Druid, who had a conscience, had not a word of explanation orexcuse. The King immediately ran him through the body, and engaged Finn(who, by this time, had shot up to the height of twelve feet) to leadhis armies against the invading King of Leinster, and the result wasthat, so far from conquering Munster, and appropriating the Golden Vale,King Mac Murragh was obliged to pray for pardon, and to pay tribute toKing Mac Carthy, who thenceforward, with the aid of Finn Mac Coul'sstrength of mind and body, was the most powerful of all the monarchs ofIreland.

 

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