Celtic Myths

by Flame Tree Studio

  Deirdre was unwilling to leave Alba, but she went with Naois. Deirdre wept tears in showers and she sang:

  “Dear is the land, the land over there,

  Alba full of woods and lakes;

  Bitter to my heart is leaving thee,

  But I go away with Naois.”

  Ferchar Mac Ro did not stop till he got the sons of Uisnech away with him, despite the suspicion of Deirdre.

  “The coracle was put to sea,

  The sail was hoisted to it;

  And the second morrow they arrived

  On the white shores of Erin.”

  As soon as the sons of Uisnech landed in Erin, Ferchar Mac Ro sent word to Connachar, king of Ulster, that the men whom he wanted were come, and let him now show kindness to them. “Well,” said Connachar, “I did not expect that the sons of Uisnech would come, though I sent for them, and I am not quite ready to receive them. But there is a house down yonder where I keep strangers, and let them go down to it today, and my house will be ready before them tomorrow.”

  But he that was up in the palace felt it long that he was not getting word as to how matters were going on for those down in the house of the strangers. “Go you, Gelban Grednach, son of Lochlin’s King, go you down and bring me information as to whether her former hue and complexion are on Deirdre. If they be, I will take her out with edge of blade and point of sword, and if not, let Naois, son of Uisnech, have her for himself,” said Connachar.

  Gelban, the cheering and charming son of Lochlin’s King, went down to the place of the strangers, where the sons of Uisnech and Deirdre were staying. He looked in through the bicker-hole on the door-leaf. Now she that he gazed upon used to go into a crimson blaze of blushes when any one looked at her. Naois looked at Deirdre and knew that some one was looking at her from the back of the door-leaf. He seized one of the dice on the table before him and fired it through the bicker-hole, and knocked the eye out of Gelban Grednach the Cheerful and Charming, right through the back of his head. Gelban returned back to the palace of King Connachar.

  “You were cheerful, charming, going away, but you are cheerless, charmless, returning. What has happened to you, Gelban? But have you seen her, and are Deirdre’s hue and complexion as before?” said Connachar.

  “Well, I have seen Deirdre, and I saw her also truly, and while I was looking at her through the bicker-hole on the door, Naois, son of Uisnech, knocked out my eye with one of the dice in his hand. But of a truth and verity, although he put out even my eye, it were my desire still to remain looking at her with the other eye, were it not for the hurry you told me to be in,” said Gelban.

  “That is true,” said Connachar; “let three hundred bravo heroes go down to the abode of the strangers, and let them bring hither to me Deirdre, and kill the rest.”

  Connachar ordered three hundred active heroes to go down to the abode of the strangers and to take Deirdre up with them and kill the rest. “The pursuit is coming,” said Deirdre.

  “Yes, but I will myself go out and stop the pursuit,” said Naois.

  “It is not you, but we that will go,” said Daring Drop, and Hardy Holly, and Fiallan the Fair; “it is to us that our father entrusted your defence from harm and danger when he himself left for home.” And the gallant youths, full noble, full manly, full handsome, with beauteous brown locks, went forth girt with battle arms fit for fierce fight and clothed with combat dress for fierce contest fit, which was burnished, bright, brilliant, bladed, blazing, on which were many pictures of beasts and birds and creeping things, lions and lithe-limbed tigers, brown eagle and harrying hawk and adder fierce; and the young heroes laid low three-thirds of the company.

  Connachar came out in haste and cried with wrath: “Who is there on the floor of fight, slaughtering my men?”

  “We, the three sons of Ferchar Mac Ro.”

  “Well,” said the king, “I will give a free bridge to your grandfather, a free bridge to your father, and a free bridge each to you three brothers, if you come over to my side tonight.”

  “Well, Connachar, we will not accept that offer from you nor thank you for it. Greater by far do we prefer to go home to our father and tell the deeds of heroism we have done, than accept anything on these terms from you. Naois, son of Uisnech, and Allen and Arden are as nearly related to yourself as they are to us, though you are so keen to shed their blood, and you would shed our blood also, Connachar.” And the noble, manly, handsome youths with beauteous, brown locks returned inside. “We are now,” said they, “going home to tell our father that you are now safe from the hands of the king.” And the youths all fresh and tall and lithe and beautiful, went home to their father to tell that the sons of Uisnech were safe. This happened at the parting of the day and night in the morning twilight time, and Naois said they must go away, leave that house, and return to Alba.

  Naois and Deirdre, Allan and Arden started to return to Alba. Word came to the king that the company he was in pursuit of were gone. The king then sent for Duanan Gacha Druid, the best magician he had, and he spoke to him as follows: “Much wealth have I expended on you, Duanan Gacha Druid, to give schooling and learning and magic mystery to you, if these people get away from me today without care, without consideration or regard for me, without chance of overtaking them, and without power to stop them.”

  “Well, I will stop them,” said the magician, “until the company you send in pursuit return.” And the magician placed a wood before them through which no man could go, but the sons of Uisnech marched through the wood without halt or hesitation, and Deirdre held on to Naois’s hand.

  “What is the good of that? that will not do yet,” said Connachar. “They are off without bending of their feet or stopping of their step, without heed or respect to me, and I am without power to keep up to them or opportunity to turn them back this night.”

  “I will try another plan on them,” said the druid; and he placed before them a grey sea instead of a green plain. The three heroes stripped and tied their clothes behind their heads, and Naois placed Deirdre on the top of his shoulder.

  They stretched their sides to the stream,

  And sea and land were to them the same,

  The rough grey ocean was the same

  As meadow-land green and plain.

  “Though that be good, O Duanan, it will not make the heroes return,” said Connachar; “they are gone without regard for me, and without honour to me, and without power on my part to pursue them or to force them to return this night.”

  “We shall try another method on them, since yon one did not stop them,” said the druid. And the druid froze the grey ridged sea into hard rocky knobs, the sharpness of sword being on the one edge and the poison power of adders on the other. Then Arden cried that he was getting tired, and nearly giving over. “Come you, Arden, and sit on my right shoulder,” said Naois. Arden came and sat, on Naois’s shoulder. Arden was long in this posture when he died; but though he was dead Naois would not let him go. Allen then cried out that he was getting faint and nigh-well giving up. When Naois heard his prayer, he gave forth the piercing sigh of death, and asked Allen to lay hold of him and he would bring him to land.

  Allen was not long when the weakness of death came on him and his hold failed. Naois looked around, and when he saw his two well-beloved brothers dead, he cared not whether he lived or died, and he gave forth the bitter sigh of death, and his heart burst.

  “They are gone,” said Duanan Gacha Druid to the king, “and I have done what you desired me. The sons of Uisnech are dead and they will trouble you no more; and you have your wife hale and whole to yourself.”

  “Blessings for that upon you and may the good results accrue to me, Duanan. I count it no loss what I spent in the schooling and teaching of you. Now dry up the flood, and let me see if I can behold Deirdre,” said Connachar. And Duanan Gacha Druid dried up the flood from the plain and the three sons of
Uisnech were lying together dead, without breath of life, side by side on the green meadow plain and Deirdre bending above showering down her tears.

  Then Deirdre said this lament: “Fair one, loved one, flower of beauty; beloved upright and strong; beloved noble and modest warrior. Fair one, blue-eyed, beloved of thy wife; lovely to me at the trysting-place came thy clear voice through the woods of Ireland. I cannot eat or smile henceforth. Break not today, my heart: soon enough shall I lie within my grave. Strong are the waves of sorrow, but stronger is sorrow’s self, Connachar.”

  The people then gathered round the heroes’ bodies and asked Connachar what was to be done with the bodies. The order that he gave was that they should dig a pit and put the three brothers in it side by side.

  Deirdre kept sitting on the brink of the grave, constantly asking the gravediggers to dig the pit wide and free. When the bodies of the brothers were put in the grave, Deirdre said:

  “Come over hither, Naois, my love,

  Let Arden close to Allen lie;

  If the dead had any sense to feel,

  Ye would have made a place for Deirdre.”

  The men did as she told them. She jumped into the grave and lay down by Naois, and she was dead by his side.

  The king ordered the body to be raised from out the grave and to be buried on the other side of the loch. It was done as the king bade, and the pit closed. Thereupon a fir shoot grew out of the grave of Deirdre and a fir shoot from the grave of Naois, and the two shoots united in a knot above the loch. The king ordered the shoots to be cut down, and this was done twice, until, at the third time, the wife whom the king had married caused him to stop this work of evil and his vengeance on the remains of the dead.

  Footnotes for The Story of Deirdre

  1. ‘Malcolm Harper’ – a.k.a. Feidhlimidh Mac Daill. This version of the tragedy of Deirdre comes from Joseph Jacobs” collection of Celtic Fairy Tales, which he has adapted from Celtic Magazine, xiii (1888), p. 69. In this Scottish version the father was called Colum Cruiteir (which translates as ‘Malcolm Harper’), but in the original Irish legend from the Ulster Cycle he is actually Feidhlimidh Mac Daill (or Felim mac Dall).

  2. ‘Naois’ is the spelling used in this version, but in the Irish it is more commonly ‘Naoise’.

  3. ‘Uisnech’ – again, a variant spelling of the Irish ‘Uisneach’.

  4. ‘Allen’ – a variant spelling of the Irish ‘Ainnle’.

  5. ‘Arden’ – a variant spelling of the Irish ‘Ardan’.

  6. ‘King Connachar’ – this is in fact King Conchobar mac Nessa.

  The Fenian Cycle

  Introduction

  Tales of Finn Mac Cumaill and the Fianna

  The central character of the Fenian, or Ossianic Cycle is Finn mac Cumaill (pronounced “Finn mac Cool”), thought to be a real historical person who lived in Ireland some time in the third century ad. A myriad of stories now exists detailing the adventures of this distinguished warrior who rose to leadership of the Fianna and whose stronghold was situated on the Hill of Allen near Co. Kildare. The tales in this cycle generally take place in the Midlands of Ireland and describe a much later epoch when life was less turbulent and the climate of war had been replaced by a more harmonious and romantic atmosphere. The men of the Fianna were not merely military soldiers therefore, but highly accomplished hunter-fighters, often trained in the wilderness, and forced to submit to a number of rigourous tests before they were accepted into the Fianna. Alongside warrior attributes, members of the Fianna were also expected to know by heart the full poet’s repertoire, numbering twelve books, and to possess the gift of poetic composition. Oisín (pronounced ‘Usheen’), son of Finn mac Cumaill, is traditionally regarded as the greatest poet of all ancient Irish tales.

  The parentage of Finn and the cause of the feud between himself and the Clan of Morna are recounted in this chapter, followed by the story of The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Gráinne which is considered to be one of the most striking and inventive tales of the cycle. The visit of Oisín to Tír na nÓg is a much later addition to the Fenian tales, and only made a first appearance in literary form in the mid-eighteenth century.

  Finn also appears in mythology from the Isle of Man and Scotland where he is known as Finn MacCool, and Fingal, depending on the part of the country, and there are many variations of the spelling of his surname. His son Ossian, from the Irish Oisín of the Fenian Cycle, has a different number of brothers in different legends, as well as variations in the spelling of his name. The feats of the great Féinn, of the wise warrior Fionn, and his sons, Osgar and Ossian, form the basis of some of the most dazzling Scottish legends.

  The Coming of Finn mac Cumaill

  Many hundreds of years after the death of Cúchulainn and the Knights of the Red Guard, the Fianna of Erin reached the height of their fame under the leadership of Finn mac Cumaill. The great warriors of the Fianna were every bit as courageous as their forerunners and each was carefully chosen for his strength and fearlessness on the battlefield. They were also powerful hunters who loved the outdoor life, and many among them possessed the gift of poetry which led to the writing of beautiful tributes to the land of their birth, with its breathtaking mountain valleys and swift-flowing, silver streams. These noble Fenian fighters were above all champion protectors of Erin and during their reign no foreign invader ever dared to set foot on her illustrious shores.

  Cumall, son of Trenmor of Clan Brascna, was the father of Finn mac Cumaill and he served as one of the bravest leaders of the Fianna until the day he was slain by his rival, Goll mac Morna, at the battle of Cnucha. Following his death, the Clan of Morna took control of the Fianna and the relatives and friends of Cumall were forced into hiding in the dense forests of the midlands where they built for themselves makeshift homes and yearned for the day when their household would again be restored to power. The Clan of Morna stole from the dead leader the Treasure Bag of the Fianna, filled with strange magical instruments from the Eastern World that had the power to heal all wounds and illnesses. It was placed in the charge of Lia, a chieftain of Connacht, for it was he who had dealt Cumall the first significant wound in the battle of Cnucha.

  After the defeat of her husband, Muirne, wife of Cumall, hurriedly abandoned her home and fled to the west to the woodlands of Kerry, accompanied by two of her most trusted handmaidens. For she was carrying the child of the deceased warrior and wished to bring it safely into the world, out of the reach of the bloodthirsty sons of Morna. Within the month, Muirne had given birth to a son and she gave him the name of Demna. And as she gazed upon the infant’s face, she was struck by its likeness to the face of Cumall, not yet cold in his grave. Tears of sorrow and anguish flooded down her cheeks and she grasped the child fiercely to her bosom, making a solemn promise to protect him from all harm and evil until he should grow to manhood.

  But it was not long before Goll mac Morna received news of the birth of Cumall’s heir and he rode forth in great haste through the forests of Erin towards Kerry, intent on destroying the infant. That evening, as she lay sleeping, Muirne had a disturbing vision of a war chariot with wheels of fire approaching her home and she arose at once and summoned her handmaidens to her.

  “The sons of Morna have knowledge of our whereabouts,” she told them, “and the child is unsafe while he remains here with me. Take him under cover of darkness to a safe retreat and do not rest until you are certain you have discovered the remotest dwelling in Erin where he may grow to adulthood unharmed and untroubled.”

  The two handmaidens took the tiny bundle from Muirne’s arms and set off in the piercingly cold night air towards the protection of the woods. They journeyed for fourteen days by secret paths until they reached the mountains of Slieve Bloom and here, under the shelter of the sprawling oak trees, they finally came to rest, satisfied at last that they had found a true place of sanctuary.

  In the fullness of time, the b
oy Demna grew fair and strong and the two women who cared for him taught him how to hunt and how to spear fish and they marvelled at the speed and zealousness with which he learned to do these things. Before he had reached the age of ten, he could outrun the fastest wild deer of the forests and was so accomplished in the use of his various weapons that he could bring down a hawk with a single shot from his sling, or pin down a charging wild boar with one simple thrust of his spear. It was obvious too that he had the makings of a fine poet, for he was at one with nature and grew to love her fruits, whether listening for hours to the sound of a running brook, or gazing in awe and wonder at the delicate petals of mountain snowdrops. And his nursemaids were overjoyed with their charge and knew that Muirne would be proud of the son they had reared on her behalf, though she may never again lay eyes on the child.

  One day, when Demna was in his fourteenth year and had grown more adventurous in spirit, he went out alone and journeyed deep into the mountains until he had reached the place known as Mag Life on the shores of the Liffey. Here, he came upon a chieftain’s stronghold and, as he peered beyond the walls of the castle, he observed a group of young boys his own age engaged in a game of hurling. He boldly approached them and expressed his desire to join them in their sport, so they presented him with a hurley and invited him to play along. Though he was outnumbered by the rest of them and was unfamiliar with the rules of the game, Demna quickly proved that he could play as well as any of them and managed, on every occasion, to take the ball from the best players in the field. He was invited to join the group for another game on the following day and, this time, they put one half of their number against him. But again, he had little difficulty beating them off. On the third day, the group decided to test his ability even further and all twelve of them went against him. Demna was triumphant once more and his athletic skill was much admired and applauded. After this, the boys went before their chieftain and told him the story of the youth who had bravely defeated them. The chieftain asked for the young man to be brought before him and when he laid eyes on Demna’s beautiful golden hair and saw the milky whiteness of his skin, he pronounced that he should be given the name of Finn, meaning ‘fair one’, and it was by this name that he was always known thereafter.