{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33439/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33439","id":"gutenberg_33439","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33439","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: History - Other","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ireland -- History"],"text":"Produced by Chris Curnow, Asad Razzaki, The Internet Archive\nfor some images and the Online Distributed Proofreading\nTeam at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n Some typographical and punctuation errors have been\n corrected. A complete list follows the text.\n\n Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been\n retained as in the original.\n\n Words italicized in the original are surrounded by\n _underscores_.\n\n Words with bold emphasis in the original are surrounded\n by =equals signs=.\n\n\n\n\n A READING BOOK\n IN\n IRISH HISTORY\n\n BY\n\n P. W. JOYCE, LL.D.\n\n _One of the Commissioners for the Publication of\n the Ancient Laws of Ireland_\n\n Author of\n\n \"A SHORT HISTORY OF IRELAND\" \"A CHILD'S HISTORY OF IRELAND\"\n \"IRISH NAMES OF PLACES,\" \"OLD CELTIC ROMANCES\"\n \"ANCIENT IRISH MUSIC\"\n AND OTHER WORKS RELATING TO IRELAND\n\n LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.\n\n LONDON, NEW YORK, AND BOMBAY\n\n DUBLIN: M. H. GILL AND SON\n 1900\n\n [_All rights reserved_]\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nAs this little book is intended chiefly for children, the language is\nvery simple. But to make matters still easier, all words and allusions\npresenting the smallest difficulty are explained either in footnotes or\nin the \"Notes and Explanations\" at the end.\n\nAdvantage has been taken of the descriptions under the several\nIllustrations to give a good deal of information on the customs and\nusages of the ancient Irish people.\n\nAlthough the book has been written for children, it will be found, I\nhope, sufficiently interesting and instructive for the perusal of older\npersons.\n\nThe book, as will be seen, contains a mixture of Irish History,\nBiography, and Romance; and most of the pieces appear in their present\nform now for the first time. A knowledge of the History of the country\nis conveyed, partly in special Historical Sketches, partly in the Notes\nunder the Illustrations, and partly through the Biography of important\npersonages, who flourished at various periods from St. Brigit down to\nthe Great Earl of Kildare. And besides this, the Stories, like those of\nall other ancient nations, teach History of another kind, very important\nin its own way.\n\nAncient Irish Manuscript books contain great numbers of Historical and\nRomantic Tales; and the specimens given here in translation will, I am\nconfident, give the reader a very favourable impression of old Irish\nwritings of this class.\n\n * * * * *\n\nI make the following acknowledgments of assistance, with pleasure and\nthanks:--\n\nTo the Council of the Royal Irish Academy I am indebted for the use of\nthe blocks of many Illustrations in Wilde's \"Catalogue of Irish\nAntiquities.\"\n\nI owe to the Council of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland\nseveral Illustrations from their Journal.\n\nColonel Wood-Martin has given me the use of the blocks of several of the\nIllustrations in his \"Pagan Ireland.\"\n\nLord Walter FitzGerald has given me permission to reproduce the drawing\nof the old Chapter House door in St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin, from\nthe \"Journal of the Kildare Arch\u00e6ological Society.\"\n\nAnd lastly, Messrs. Macmillan & Co. have permitted me to print portions\nof Lord Tennyson's poem, \"The Voyage of Maildune.\"\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n PAGE\n\n I. Legends and Early History, 1\n\n II. The Song of Inisfail, 7\n\n III. Religion of the Pagan Irish, 8\n\n IV. Customs and Modes of Life, 14\n\n =The Fate of the Children of Lir.=\n\n V. The Children of Lir turned to\n Swans, 22\n\n VI. The Swans on Lake Darvra, 27\n\n VII. The Swans on the Sea of Moyle, 32\n\n VIII. Death of the Children of Lir, 39\n\n IX. Religion and Learning in\n Ancient Ireland, 45\n\n X. The Red Branch Knights, 50\n\n =The Fate of the Sons of Usna.=\n\n XI. The Flight to Alban, 55\n\n XII. Concobar's guileful Message, 60\n\n XIII. The Return to Emain, 66\n\n XIV. Trouble Looming, 72\n\n XV. The Attack on the Sons of\n Usna, 75\n\n XVI. Death of the Sons of Usna, 80\n\n XVII. Avenging and Bright, 84\n\n XVIII. The Wrath of Fergus, 85\n\n XIX. Ancient Irish Physicians: I. 87\n\n XX. Ancient Irish Physicians: II. 89\n\n XXI. The Fena of Erin, 92\n\n XXII. The Chase of Slieve Cullin, 98\n\n XXIII. Saint Brigit: I., 103\n\n XXIV. Saint Brigit: II., 107\n\n XXV. Saint Brigit: III., 111\n\n XXVI. Irish Scribes and Books, 114\n\n XXVII. The Gilla Dacker and his\n Horse, 120\n\n XXVIII. The Fena carried off by the\n Horse, 123\n\n XXIX. Dermot O'Dyna at the Well, 129\n\n XXX. Dermot and the\n Wizard-Champion, 132\n\n XXXI. Saint Columkille: I., 139\n\n XXXII. Saint Columkille: II., 145\n\n XXXIII. Prince Alfred in Ireland, 150\n\n =The Voyage of Maildune.=\n\n XXXIV. The Voyage of Maildune, 155\n\n The First Island, 157\n\n XXXV. An Extraordinary Monster, 160\n\n The Silver Pillar of the Sea 160\n\n XXXVI. Maildune forgives his enemy, 162\n\n XXXVII. Tennyson's \"Voyage of\n Maildune,\" 164\n\n XXXVIII. Saint Donatus: I., 167\n\n XXXIX. Saint Donatus: II., 170\n\n XL. Danish and Anglo-Norman\n Invasions, 173\n\n XLI. The Watchfire of Barnalee, 179\n\n XLII. Cahal O'Conor of the Red Hand, 181\n\n XLIII. Cahal-More of the Wine-red\n hand, 186\n\n XLIV. Sir John de Courcy, 190\n\n XLV. Sir John de Courcy imprisoned, 193\n\n XLVI. Sir John de Courcy accepts\n a challenge, 197\n\n XLVII. Sir John de Courcy and the\n French Champion, 200\n\n XLVIII. The Earls of Kildare and\n Ormond, 203\n\n XLIX. Ancient Irish Music, 208\n\n Notes and Explanations, 213\n\n[Illustration: Ornament from the Book of Kells. See page 117.]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nLEGENDS AND EARLY HISTORY.[1-1]\n\n\nIn our ancient books there are stories of five different races of people\nwho made their way to Ireland in old times, with very exact accounts of\ntheir wanderings before their arrival, and of the battles they fought\nafter landing. But these narratives cannot be depended on, for they are\nnot real History but Legends, that is stories either wholly or partly\nfabulous. Of the five early races, the two last, who were called\nDedannans and Milesians, were the most remarkable; and they are mixed up\nwith most of the old Irish tales.\n\n [1-1] It is necessary to know the substance of this first sketch in\n order to understand the rest of the book.\n\nThe Dedannans, coming from Greece, landed in Ireland; and having\novercome the people they found there, became masters of the country.\nThey had the name of being great magicians; and ancient Irish writings\nare full of tales of the marvellous spells of their skilled wizards.\nThey remained in possession for about two hundred years, till the\nMilesians came, as will now be related.\n\nFor many generations the Milesians, before their arrival in Ireland,\njourneyed from one part of Europe to another, seeking for some place of\nsettlement. And becoming at length weary of this state of unrest, they\nconsulted their chief druid, who was a skilful seer, and bade him find\nout for them when they were to end their wanderings, and where they were\nto settle down. The druid, having thought the matter over for a while,\ntold them that far out on the verge of the western sea was a lovely\ngreen island called Inisfail,[2-1] or the Island of Destiny, which was\nto be their final home and resting-place. So they set out once more, and\nfared on from land to land, keeping the Isle of Destiny ever in mind,\nthinking of it by day and dreaming of it by night. At last they arrived\nin Spain, where they lived for a time. Here they were under the command\nof the renowned hero \"Miled of Spain,\"[2-2] or Milesius, from whom they\ncame to be called Milesians.\n\n [2-1] Inisfail, one of the old names of Ireland.\n\n [2-2] Miled, pronounced _Mee-le_ (two syllables).\n\nSome old Irish writers say that while they dwelt in Spain, their chiefs,\nas they gazed wistfully over the waters northwards, one clear winter's\nnight, from the top of a tower at the place now called Corunna, saw\nInisfail like a dim white cloud on the sea, in the far distance.\nHowever this may be, the eight sons of Milesius, after their father's\ndeath--many centuries before the Christian era--set sail with a fleet,\nand soon arrived on the coast of Ireland. But before they could land,\nthe Dedannans, by their spells, raised a furious tempest, which wrecked\nthe fleet and drowned five of the brothers with most of their crews. The\nremaining three landed with their men; and having defeated the Dedannans\nin battle, they took possession of Ireland.\n\n[Illustration: A fairy hill: an earthen mound at Highwood, near Lough\nArrow, in Co. Sligo. A fairy moat is also figured at page 15, and a\ncairn at page 97.]\n\nWhen the Dedannans found that they were no longer able to hold the\ncountry, the legend tells us that they retired to secret dwellings under\nold forts, moats, cairns, and beautiful green little hills: and they\nbecame fairies, and built themselves glorious palaces in their new\nunderground abodes, all ablaze with light, and glittering with gems and\ngold.\n\nFrom that period forward, till the time of the Danes, there were no more\ninvasions; and the Milesian kings and people were left to make their own\nlaws and manage the country as they thought best, without any\ninterference from outside.\n\nIn the History of Ireland from the settlement of the Milesian Colony\ndown to the time of St. Patrick, that is, to the fifth century of the\nChristian Era, there is a mixture of legend and fact; and it is often\nhard to disentangle them, so as to tell which is truth and which is\nfable. As we advance, the truth and certainty increase, and the legend\ngrows less, till we arrive near the time of St. Patrick. From about this\nperiod forward, we are able to tell the main history of the country\nwithout any mixture of fable.\n\nFor a long time in the beginning the Irish people were all pagans; and\nthe kind of religion they had will be presently described.\n\nAs early as the third or fourth century--long before St. Patrick's\narrival--there were some Christians in Ireland; and it is believed that\nthe knowledge of Christianity was brought to them from Britain: but on\nthis point there is no certainty. Their numbers gradually increased as\ntime went on; and when St. Patrick arrived he found some small Christian\ncongregations scattered here and there through the country. But the main\nbody of the people were pagans; and to St. Patrick belongs the glory of\nconverting them. The history of his life-work need not be told here, as\nit will be found set forth in one of the Chapters of the \"Child's\nHistory of Ireland.\" It is enough to say that he arrived in the year\nA.D. 432, with many companions to aid him; and that after thirty-three\nyears of constant toil, he died in 465, leaving the great body of the\npeople Christians, and the country covered with churches. St. Patrick\nwas a man of strong will, of great courage--fearing no danger while\ndoing his Master's work--and possessing mighty power over those he mixed\nwith and addressed. He was more successful than any other missionary\nafter the time of the Apostles.\n\nSome years before St. Patrick's arrival, a great king ruled over Ireland\n(from 379 to 405) called Niall of the Nine Hostages. From him were\ndescended most of the kings who reigned over Ireland after his time till\nthe Anglo-Norman Invasion.[5-1]\n\n [5-1] The Anglo-Norman Invasion will be found described at page 175.\n\nFrom the earliest ages the Irish of Ulster were in the habit of crossing\nthe narrow sea to Alban or Scotland, which can be seen plainly from the\nsea-cliffs of Antrim; and many settled there and made it their home. In\nthe year 503, nearly forty years after St. Patrick's death, a great\ncolony of Irish--men, women, and children--crossed over, commanded by\nthree princes, brothers, named Fergus, Angus, and Lorne. In course of\ntime the posterity of these people mastered all Scotland; and from\nFergus, who was their first king, the kings of Scotland were descended.\nAt that time Ireland was generally known by the name of Scotia, and the\nIrish were called Scots; and from them Alban got the name of Scotland.\n\n[Illustration: Stone Hammers, used when metal was still scarce, or not\nknown at all. A wooden handle was fixed in the hole. Iron was known in\nIreland from the beginning of the Christian era, and gold, silver,\ncopper, and bronze, long before it.]\n\nIn old times there were five provinces in Ireland:--Leinster, Ulster,\nConnaught, Munster, and Meath. Meath, which stretched from the Shannon\neastwards to the sea, and from Kildare on the south to Armagh on the\nnorth, was about half the size of Ulster. It was the last formed of the\nfive, and later on it disappeared as a province altogether. The present\ncounties of Meath and Westmeath occupy only about half of it. In those\ntimes, the county Louth belonged to Ulster, and Cavan and Clare to\nConnaught.\n\nThere was a king over each of the five provinces, and over these again\nwas a king of all Ireland, called the Over-king or head king. The kings\nof Ireland had their chief palace on the Hill of Tara in Meath; where\nmany of the forts and other remains of the old buildings are still to be\nseen. But Tara was deserted as a royal residence in the sixth century,\nafter which the kings of Ireland lived elsewhere.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE SONG OF INISFAIL.\n\n\nI.\n\n They came from a land beyond the sea,\n And now o'er the western main,\n Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly,\n From the sunny land of Spain.\n \"Oh, where's the Isle we've seen in dreams,\n Our destined home or grave?\"--\n Thus sung they, as by the morning's beams\n They swept the Atlantic wave.\n\n\nII.\n\n And lo, where afar o'er ocean shines\n A sparkle of radiant green,\n As though in that deep lay em'rald mines,\n Whose light through the wave was seen.\n \"'Tis Inisfail--'tis Inisfail!\"\n Rings o'er the echoing sea,\n While, bending to Heav'n, the warriors hail\n That home of the brave and free.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Then turn'd they unto the Eastern wave,\n Where now their Day-God's eye\n A look of such sunny omen gave\n As lighted up sea and sky.\n Nor frown was seen through sky or sea,\n Nor tear on leaf or sod,\n When first on their Isle of Destiny\n Our great forefathers trod.\n\nTHOMAS MOORE.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nTHE RELIGION OF THE PAGAN IRISH.\n\n\nSo far as we are able to judge from our old writings, the pagan Irish\nhad no one religion common to all the people, and no settled general\nform of worship. They had many gods; and it would appear that every\nperson chose whatever god he pleased for himself. Some worshipped idols;\nand we read of certain persons who had spring wells for gods: while some\nagain adored fire, and others the sun and moon. The people also\nworshipped the _shee_ or fairies, who were supposed to live in grand\npalaces underground, as described at page 3. The persons who taught the\npeople all about these gods were the Druids, who were the learned men of\nthose times. They were believed to be wizards, and some think that they\nwere pagan priests.\n\nThe pagan Irish had a dim notion of a sort of heaven, a happy land of\nperpetual youth and peace. It was believed that there were many happy\nlands in different places, which were called by various names, such as\nMoy-Mell, I-Brazil, and Tirnanoge. Some were out in the Atlantic Ocean,\noff the western coast, while others were down deep beneath lakes, and\nsome in caves under forts or cairns. They were all inhabited by fairies,\nwho sometimes carried off mortals: and those whom they brought away\nhardly ever came back. A fairy who wished to allure a mortal often\nchanted a sort of magical song called an incantation, which exercised a\nspell over the person that listened to it.\n\nThere is a pretty story, more than a thousand years old, in the Book of\nthe Dun Cow, which relates how Prince Connla of the Golden Hair, son of\nthe great king Conn the Hundred-Fighter, was carried off by a fairy from\nthe western shore in a crystal boat to Moy-Mell. One day--as the story\nrelates--while the king and Connla and many nobles were standing on the\nsea-shore, a boat of shining crystal approached from the west: and when\nit had touched the land, a fairy, like a human being, and richly\ndressed, came forth from it, and, addressing Connla, tried to entice him\ninto it. No one saw this strange being save Connla alone, though all\nheard the conversation: and the king and the nobles marvelled, and were\ngreatly troubled. At last the fairy chanted the following words in a\nvery sweet voice: and the moment the chant was ended, the poor young\nprince stepped into the crystal boat, which in a moment glided swiftly\naway to the west: and prince Connla was never again seen in his native\nland.\n\n\nTHE CHANT OF THE FAIRY TO CONNLA OF THE GOLDEN HAIR.\n\n\nI.\n\n A land of youth, a land of rest,\n A land from sorrow free;\n It lies far off in the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea.\n A swift canoe of crystal bright,\n That never met mortal view--\n We shall reach the land ere fall of night,\n In that strong and swift canoe:\n We shall reach the strand\n Of that sunny land\n From druids and demons free;\n The land of rest,\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n\nII.\n\n A pleasant land of winding vales, bright streams, and verdurous\n plains,\n Where summer, all the live-long year, in changeless splendour\n reigns;\n A peaceful land of calm delight, of everlasting bloom;\n Old age and death we never know, no sickness, care, or gloom;\n\n The land of youth,\n Of love and truth,\n From pain and sorrow free;\n The land of rest,\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n\nIII.\n\n There are strange delights for mortal men in that island of the west;\n The sun comes down each evening in its lovely vales to rest:\n\n And though far and dim\n On the ocean's rim\n It seems to mortal view,\n We shall reach its halls\n Ere the evening falls,\n In my strong and swift canoe;\n And ever more\n That verdant shore\n Our happy home shall he;\n The land of rest,\n In the golden west,\n On the verge of the azure sea!\n\n\nIV.\n\n It will guard thee, gentle Connla of the flowing golden hair,\n It will guard thee from the druids, from the demons of the air;[12-1]\n My crystal boat will guard thee, till we reach that western shore,\n Where thou and I in joy and love shall live for evermore:\n\n From the druid's incantation,\n From his black and deadly snare,\n From the withering imprecation\n Of the demon of the air,\n\n It will guard thee, gentle Connla of the flowing golden hair;\n My crystal boat will guard thee, till we reach that silver strand,\n Where thou shalt reign in endless joy, the king of the Fairy-land!\n\nFrom \"Old Celtic Romances,\" by P. W. JOYCE, LL.D.\n\n [12-1] Demons of the air were evil spirits who were supposed to live,\n not in underground places like fairies, but in the air.\n They were very much dreaded and hated.\n\n[Illustration: Stone hatchet in the National Museum, Dublin: probably\nused as a battle-axe. Before metals came into general use, tools and\nweapons of various kinds, in Ireland as well as in other countries, were\nmade of stone, flint being commonly used for making cutting-instruments,\nsuch as knives. But this was at a very early period, mostly before the\ntime when our written history begins.]\n\n[Illustration: Bronze head of Irish battle-mace: now in the National\nMuseum Dublin. It was fitted with a handle which was fastened in the\nsocket; and it was used for striking in battle. It is double the size of\nthe picture. Weapons of this kind were in use at a very early time, long\nbefore the beginning of our regular history.]\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nCUSTOMS AND MODES OF LIFE.\n\n\nOur old books contain very full information regarding the Irish people,\nand how they lived, more than a thousand years ago.\n\nIn early times Ireland was almost everywhere covered with forests; and\nthere were great and dangerous bogs and marshes, overgrown with reeds,\nmoss, and coarse grass. Many of these bogs still remain, but they are\nnot nearly so large or dangerous as they were then. Great tracts of\ncountry were uninhabited, so that the whole population was much less\nthan it is now.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish bronze reaping-hook: 6 inches long. It was\nfitted with a handle which was fastened in the socket with a rivet. Now\nin the National Museum, Dublin.]\n\nThe people hunted and fished a great deal, partly for food, partly to\nrid the country of noxious creatures, and partly for sport; for the\nforests were alive with wild animals of all kinds, and the rivers and\nlakes teemed with fish. But no one then thought it worth while to hunt\nfoxes and hares for sport, as people do now. They had much grander\ngame:--wild boars with long and dangerous tusks; gigantic deer; and\nfierce wolves that lurked in caves and thick woods. In the cleared parts\nof the country there was much pasture and tillage various kinds of corn\nand vegetables were grown, and the land was very fertile and well\nwatered with springs and rivulets.\n\n[Illustration: A moat: at Patrickstown, near Oldcastle, Co. Meath. Some\nmoats were burial mounds. See pages 16 and 59.]\n\nThere was more pasture than tillage; and the pasture land was not fenced\nin, but was grazed in common. The law was very particular in laying down\nrules about the fences of tillage lands--that they should be properly\nmade, and that when two farms lay next each other, each man should do\nhalf the fencing work. Oxen were generally used for ploughing: horses\nseldom. Generally two oxen were put to one plough, but sometimes four,\nand sometimes even six. While one man held the plough, another walked in\nfront to lead the animals.\n\nOn account of the great forests and bogs, there were many large\ndistricts where it was hard to go long distances across country from\nplace to place: and often impossible. But in all the inhabited parts\nthere were roads or cleared paths. The roads of those times were however\nvery rough, and not nearly so good as our present roads. Rivers were\ncrossed by bridges made of rough planks or wickerwork--for there were no\nstone bridges--or by wading at shallow fords, or by little ferry boats.\n\nThe people lived in houses almost always made of timber, generally\nround-shaped or oval, but sometimes four-cornered and oblong like our\npresent houses. In order to keep off wild beasts and robbers, there was\na high embankment of earth, with a deep trench, round every house. Many\nof these earthworks still remain all over Ireland, and are well known by\nthe names _lis_, _rath_, fort, &c.; and some have high mounds commonly\ncalled moats.\n\n[Illustration: Grain-rubber: 16 inches long. People ground their corn\nwith this before the invention of querns and milk. The grain was put\nbetween the two stones, and the upper stone was worked backwards and\nforwards with the hands. It was very hard and tedious work. See p. 17.]\n\nThe food of the people was not very different from what it is at\npresent, except that they had no potatoes, which were brought to Ireland\nfor the first time about 300 years ago: and there was no tea or coffee.\nThey used oats, wheat, rye, and barley, ground and made into bread;\nfish; and for those who could afford it, the flesh of various animals,\neither boiled or roast. Oatmeal porridge or stirabout was in very\ngeneral use, especially for children. They ground their corn with small\nwatermills, or with handmills called querns, one of which was kept in\nalmost every house. Querns were in use before the earliest time that our\nhistory reaches; and water-mills were introduced before the arrival of\nSt. Patrick. In those early ages there was no sugar, and honey was\ngreatly valued, so that beehives were kept everywhere.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish bronze caldron for boiling meat, 12-1/2\ninches deep, formed of plates beautifully rivetted together. It shows\nmarks and signs of long use over a fire. Now in the National Museum,\nDublin.]\n\n[Illustration: Irish drinking vessel, called a _Mether_. They drank from\nthe corners. At meals, the same mether was used by several persons, who\ndrank from it in turn.]\n\nFor drink, they had, besides plain water and milk, ale, and a sweet sort\nof liquor called mead both of which were made at home, and often wine,\nwhich was brought from the continent. There was then no whiskey.\n\nIn those days there were no hotels or inns as there are now, where a\nperson could have board and lodging for payment; but they were not much\nneeded then, as travellers were otherwise well provided for. Besides the\nmonasteries, which, as we shall see further on, were always open and\nfree to wayfarers, there were, all through the country, what were called\n\"Houses of public hospitality.\" The keeper of one of those houses was\ncalled a _Brugaid_ and sometimes a _Beetagh_; and his office was\nconsidered very high and honourable. A brugaid or beetagh had to keep an\nopen house for travellers who were always welcome, and received bed and\nfood free of charge. He was obliged by law to keep constantly in hands a\nlarge stock of provisions; and he should have a certain number of beds\nand all other necessary household furniture. To enable a brugaid to keep\nup such an expensive establishment, he had the house itself and a large\ntract of land, free of rent and taxes, besides other liberal allowances.\n\nThe law required that there should be several open roads leading to the\nresidence of every brugaid; and that a light should always be kept\nburning in the lawn at night to guide travellers to the house.\n\nThe people dressed well according to their means. Both men and women\nwere fond of bright coloured garments, which were not hard to procure,\nas the art of dyeing in all the various hues was well understood. It\nwas usual for the same person to wear clothes of several brilliant\ncolours: and sometimes the long outside mantle worn by men and women was\nstriped and spotted with purple, yellow, green, or other dyes like\nJoseph's coat of many colours. Those who were able to afford it wore\nrings, bracelets, necklaces, gorgets, brooches, and other ornaments,\nmade of gold, silver, and a sort of white bronze.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish Gorget for the neck: of gold, reddish in\ncolour, and very pure: weighs 16-1/3 oz. Now in the National Museum,\nDublin.]\n\nThe Irish metal workers were very skilful. They made brooches, rings,\nbracelets, croziers, crosses, and other such articles, in gold, silver,\nwhitish bronze, gems, and enamel, of which many have been found in the\nearth from time to time, and are now kept in museums: and some of them\nare so skilfully and beautifully wrought that no artificer of the\npresent day can imitate them.\n\nThere were men of the several professions, such as medical doctors,\nlawyers, judges, builders, poets, historians: and all through the\ncountry were to be found tradesmen of the various crafts--carpenters,\nsmiths, workers in gold, silver, and brass, ship and boat builders,\nmasons, shoemakers, dyers, tailors, brewers, and so-forth: all working\nindustriously and earning their bread under the old Irish laws, which\nwere everywhere acknowledged and obeyed. Then there was a good deal of\ncommerce with Britain and with Continental countries, especially France;\nand the home commodities, such as hides, salt, wool, etc., were\nexchanged for wine, silk, satin, and other goods not produced in\nIreland.\n\nFrom what has been said here, we may see that the ancient Irish were\norderly and regular in their way of life--quite on a level in this\nrespect with the people of those other European countries of the same\nperiod that had a proper settled government; and, it will be shown\nfurther on in this book, that they were famed throughout all Europe for\nReligion and Learning.\n\nThe greatest evil of the country was war; for the kings and chiefs were\nvery often fighting with each other, which brought great misery on the\npoor people where the disturbances took place. But in those early times\nwar was common in all countries; and in this respect there was no more\ntrouble in Ireland than in England, Scotland, and the countries of the\nContinent.\n\n[Illustration: Flint arrow-heads. The head was fixed on the top of the\nshaft with cord of some kind, or with dried gut or tendon. Flint was\nused at a very early period when metals were either not known at all or\nwere still very scarce. The makers of flint implements shaped them by\nchipping with stone hammers, in which they were very skilful and\nexpert.]\n\n[Illustration: One form of Irish Ornament.]\n\n\n\n\nThe Fate of the Children of Lir[22-1]; or, The Four White Swans.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nHOW THE CHILDREN OF LIR WERE TURNED INTO SWANS.\n\n\nDuring the time when the Dedannans ruled in Erin, there was a chief\nnamed Lir, who lived in Ulster, and who was much beloved for his\ngoodness and his hospitality. He had four little children: a girl, named\nFinola, who was the eldest, and three boys, Aed, Ficra, and Conn: and\nFinola and Aed were twins, as were also Ficra and Conn. Their mother\ndied when they were very young, and they were then placed in charge of\none of Lir's friends named Eva, who was a witch-lady.\n\n [22-1] Among the ancient Irish Romantic Tales, three are specially\n known as \"The Three Sorrowful Stories of Erin,\" viz. \"The\n Fate of the Children of Lir,\" \"The Fate of the Sons of\n Turenn,\" both of which relate to the Dedannans; and \"The\n Fate of the Sons of Usna,\" referring to the Milesian\n people. The greater part of the \"Children of Lir\" and the\n whole of the \"Sons of Usna\" are given in this book,\n translated from the Gaelic. \"The Fate of the Sons of\n Turenn\" is translated in full in \"Old Celtic Romances.\"\n\nThe four children grew up under Eva's care. She nursed them with great\ntenderness, and her love for them increased every day. They slept near\ntheir father; and he would often rise from his own bed at the dawn of\nmorning, and go to their beds to talk with them and to fondle them. And\nthey were the delight and joy of all the Dedannans, who often came to\nLir's house to see them. For nowhere could four lovelier children be\nfound; so that those who saw them were always delighted with their\nbeauty and their gentleness, and could not help loving them with all\ntheir heart.\n\nNow when Eva saw that the children of Lir received such attention and\naffection from all, she fancied she was neglected on their account; and\na poisonous dart of jealousy entered her heart, which turned her love to\nhatred; and she began to have feelings of bitter enmity for the\nchildren.\n\nHer jealousy so preyed on her that she feigned illness, and lay in bed\nfor nearly a year, filled with gall and brooding mischief; and at the\nend of that time she committed a foul and cruel deed of treachery on the\nchildren of Lir.\n\nOne day she ordered her horses to be yoked to her chariot, and she set\nout for the palace of the Dedannan king, Bove Derg, bringing the four\nchildren with her. Finola did not wish to go, for it was revealed to her\ndarkly in a dream that Eva was bent on some dreadful deed; and she knew\nwell that the witch-lady intended to kill her and her brothers that\nday, or in some other way to bring ruin on them. But she was not able to\navoid the fate that awaited her; so she went.\n\nThey fared on towards the palace, which was situated near Lough Derg in\nthe south, till they came to the shore of Lake Darvra,[24-1] where they\nalighted; and the horses were unyoked. Eva led the children to the edge\nof the lake, and told them to go to bathe; and as soon as they had got\ninto the clear water, she struck them one by one with a druidical fairy\nwand, and turned them into four beautiful snow-white swans. And she\naddressed them in these words--\n\n\n Out to your home, ye swans, on Darvra's wave;\n With clamorous birds begin your life of gloom:\n Your friends shall weep your fate, but none can save;\n For I've pronounced the dreadful words of doom.\n\n\n [24-1] Lake Darvra, now Lough Derravaragh, in Westmeath.\n\nAfter this, the four children of Lir turned towards the witch-lady; and\nFinola spoke--\n\n\"Evil is the deed thou hast done, O Eva; thy friendship to us has been a\nfriendship of treachery; and thou hast ruined us without cause. But the\npower of thy witchcraft is not greater than the druidical power of our\nfriends to punish thee; and the doom that awaits thee shall be worse\nthan ours.\"\n\n\n The witch-lady loved us long ago;\n The witch-lady now has wrought us woe;\n With magical wand and fearful words,\n She changed us to beautiful snow-white birds;\n And we live on the waters for evermore,\n By tempests driven from shore to shore.\n\n\nFinola again spoke and said, \"Tell us now how long we shall be in the\nshape of swans, so that we may know when our miseries shall come to an\nend.\"\n\n\"It would be better for you if you had not put that question,\" said Eva;\n\"but I will declare the truth to you, as you have asked me. Three\nhundred years on smooth Lake Darvra; three hundred years on the Sea of\nMoyle, between Erin and Alban;[25-1] three hundred years at Inish\nGlora[25-2] on the Western Sea. Until the union of Largnen, the prince\nfrom the north, with Decca, the princess from the south; until the\nTaillkenn[25-3] shall come to Erin, bringing the light of a pure faith;\nand until ye hear the voice of the Christian bell. And neither by your\nown power, nor by mine, nor by the power of your friends, can ye be\nfreed till the time comes.\"\n\n [25-1] The sea between Erin and Alban (Ireland and Scotland) was\n anciently called the Sea of Moyle, from the Moyle, or\n Mull, of Cantire.\n\n [25-2] Inish Glora; a small island, about five miles west from\n Belmullet, in the county Mayo, still known by the same\n name.\n\n [25-3] The Taillkenn, a name given by the druids to St. Patrick.\n\nThen Eva repented what she had done; and she said, \"Since I cannot\nafford you any other relief, I will allow you to keep your own Gaelic\nspeech, and ye shall be able to sing sweet, plaintive fairy music, which\nshall excel all the music of the world, and which shall lull to sleep\nall that listen to it. Moreover, ye shall retain your human reason; and\nye shall not be in grief on account of being in the shape of swans.\"\n\nAnd she chanted this lay--\n\n\n Depart from me, ye graceful swans;\n The waters are now your home:\n Your palace shall be the pearly cave,\n Your couch the crest of the crystal wave,\n And your mantle the milk-white foam!\n\n Depart from me, ye snow-white swans,\n With your music and Gaelic speech:\n The crystal Darvra, the wintry Moyle,\n The billowy margin of Glora's isle;--\n Three hundred years on each!\n\n Victorious Lir, your hapless sire,\n His loved ones in vain shall call;\n His weary heart is a husk of gore,\n His home is joyless for evermore,\n And his anger on me shall fall!\n\n Through circling ages of gloom and fear\n Your anguish no tongue can tell;\n Till faith shall shed her heavenly rays,\n Till ye hear the Taillkenn's anthem of praise,\n And the voice of the Christian bell!\n\n\nThen ordering her steeds to be yoked to her chariot, she set out once\nmore for the palace leaving the four white swans swimming on the lake.\n\n\n Our father shall watch and weep in vain;\n He never shall see us return again.\n Four pretty children, happy at home;\n Four white swans on the feathery foam;\n And we live on the waters for evermore,\n By tempests driven from shore to shore.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON LAKE DARVRA.\n\n\nLir and his people, hearing that Eva had arrived at Bove Derg's palace\nwithout the children, became alarmed, and went southwards without delay;\ntill passing by the shore of Lake Darvra, they saw the swans. And the\nswans swam up and spoke to them, at which they wondered greatly. But\nwhen they told Lir that they were indeed his four children whom the\nwitch-lady had turned into birds, he and his people were struck with\namazement and horror; and they uttered three long mournful cries of\ngrief and lamentation. And when Lir had heard from Finola how the matter\nhappened, he prepared to set out in quest of Eva. And bidding farewell\nto the children for a time, he chanted this lay:--\n\n\n The time has come for me to part:\n No more, alas! my children dear,\n Your rosy smiles shall glad my heart,\n Or light the gloomy home of Lir.\n\n Dark was the day when first I brought\n This Eva in my home to dwell!\n Hard was the woman's heart that wrought\n This cruel and malignant spell!\n\n I lay me down to rest in vain;\n For, through the livelong, sleepless night,\n My little lov'd ones, pictured plain,\n Stand ever there before my sight.\n\n Finola, once my pride and joy;\n Dark Aed, adventurous and bold;\n Bright Ficra, gentle, playful boy;\n And little Conn, with curls of gold;--\n\n Struck down on Darvra's reedy shore,\n By wicked Eva's magic power:\n Oh, children, children, never more\n My heart shall know one peaceful hour.\n\n\nAfter this he fared southwards till he arrived at the palace, where he\nfound Eva. And the king, Bove Derg, when Lir had told him what Eva had\ndone, was in great wrath; for he loved those little children. And\ncalling Eva to him he spoke to her fiercely and asked her what shape of\nall others, on the earth, or above the earth, or beneath the earth, she\nmost abhorred, and into which she most dreaded to be transformed.\n\nAnd she, being forced to answer truly, said, \"A demon of the air.\"\n\n\"That is the form you shall take,\" said Bove Derg; and as he spoke he\nstruck Eva with a druidical magic wand, and turned her into a demon of\nthe air. She opened her wings, and flew with a scream upwards and away\nthrough the clouds; and she is still a demon of the air, and she shall\nbe a demon of the air till the end of time.\n\nAfter this, Lir and the Dedannans came to live on the shore of the lake,\nto be near the swans and to speak with them. And so the swans passed\ntheir time on the waters. During the day they discoursed lovingly with\ntheir father and their friends; and at night they chanted their slow,\nsweet, fairy music, the most delightful that was ever heard by men; so\nthat all who listened to it, even those who were in grief, or sickness,\nor pain, forgot their sorrows and their sufferings, and fell into a\ngentle, sweet sleep from which they awoke bright and happy.\n\nAt last the three hundred years[30-1] came to an end, and Finola said to\nher brothers:--\n\n\"Do you know, my dear brothers, that we have come to the end of our time\nhere; and that we have only this one night to spend on Lake Darvra?\"\n\n [30-1] Three hundred years: the Dedannans were regarded as gods and\n lived an immensely long time.\n\nWhen the three sons of Lir heard this, they were in great distress and\nsorrow; for they were almost as happy on Lake Darvra, surrounded by\ntheir friends, and conversing with them day by day, as if they had been\nin their father's house in their own natural shapes; whereas they should\nnow live on the gloomy and tempest-tossed Sea of Moyle, far away from\nall human society.\n\nEarly next morning, the swans came to the margin of the lake to speak to\ntheir father and their friends for the last time, and to bid them\nfarewell; and Finola chanted this lay--\n\n\nI.\n\n Farewell, farewell, our father dear!\n The last sad hour has come:\n Farewell, Bove Derg! farewell to all,\n Till the dreadful day of doom!\n We go from friends and scenes beloved,\n To a home of grief and pain;\n And that day of woe\n Shall come and go,\n Before we meet again!\n\n\nII.\n\n We live for ages on stormy Moyle,\n In loneliness and fear;\n The kindly words of loving friends\n We never more shall hear.\n Four joyous children long ago;\n Four snow-white swans to-day;\n And on Moyle's wild sea\n Our robe shall be\n The cold and briny spray.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Far down on the misty stream of time,\n When three hundred years are o'er,\n Three hundred more in storm and cold,\n By Glora's desolate shore;\n Till Decca fair is Largnen's spouse;\n Till north and south unite;\n Till the hymns are sung,\n And the bells are rung,\n At the dawn of the pure faith's light.\n\n\nIV.\n\n Arise, my brothers, from Darvra's wave\n On the wings of the southern wind;\n We leave our father and friends to-day\n In measureless grief behind.\n Ah! sad the parting, and sad our flight\n To Moyle's tempestuous main;\n For the day of woe\n Shall come and go,\n Before we meet again!\n\n\nThe four swans then spread their wings, and rose from the surface of the\nwater in sight of all their friends, till they reached a great height in\nthe air; then resting, and looking downwards for a moment, they flew\nstraight to the north, till they alighted on the Sea of Moyle between\nErin and Alban.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON THE SEA OF MOYLE.\n\n\nMiserable was the abode and evil the plight of the children of Lir on\nthe Sea of Moyle. Their hearts were wrung with sorrow for their father\nand their friends; and when they looked towards the steep rocky,\nfar-stretching coasts, and saw the great, dark, wild sea around them,\nthey were overwhelmed with fear and despair. They began also to suffer\nfrom cold and hunger, so that all the hardships they had endured on Lake\nDarvra appeared as nothing compared with their suffering on the\nsea-current of Moyle.\n\nAnd so they lived, till one night a great tempest fell upon the sea.\nFinola, when she saw the sky filled with black, threatening clouds, thus\naddressed her brothers:--\n\n\"Beloved brothers, we have made a bad preparation for this night: for it\nis certain that the coming storm will separate us; and now let us\nappoint a place of meeting, or it may happen that we shall never see\neach other again.\"\n\nAnd they answered, \"Dear sister, you speak truly and wisely; and let us\nfix on Carricknarone,[33-1] for that is a rock that we are all very well\nacquainted with.\"\n\n [33-1] Carricknarone, the \"Rock of the Seals\": probably the Skerry\n rock near Portrush in Antrim: but the old name is now\n forgotten.\n\nAnd they appointed Carricknarone as their place of meeting.\n\nMidnight came, and with it came the beginning of the storm. A wild,\nrough wind swept over the dark sea, the lightnings flashed, and the\ngreat waves rose, and increased their violence and their thunder.\n\nThe swans were soon scattered over the waters, so that not one of them\nknew in what direction the others had been driven. During all that night\nthey were tossed about by the roaring winds and waves, and it was with\nmuch difficulty they preserved their lives.\n\nTowards morning the storm abated, the sky cleared, and the sea became\nagain calm and smooth; and Finola swam to Carricknarone. But she found\nnone of her brothers there, neither could she see any trace of them when\nshe looked all round from the summit of the rock over the wide face of\nthe sea.\n\nThen she became terrified, thinking she should never see them again; and\nshe began to lament them plaintively.\n\n[On this incident Thomas Moore wrote the following beautiful song. A\nperson is supposed to be listening to Finola, and--in the first four\nlines of the song--calls on the winds and the waves to be silent that he\nmay hear.]\n\n\nSILENT, O MOYLE!\n\n Silent, O Moyle! be the roar of thy water,\n Break not, ye breezes! your chain of repose,\n While, murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter\n Tells to the night-star her tale of woes.\n When shall the Swan, her death-note singing,\n Sleep with wings in darkness furl'd?\n When will Heav'n, its sweet bell ringing,\n Call my spirit from this stormy world?\n\n Sadly, O Moyle! to thy winter-wave weeping,\n Fate bids me languish long ages away;\n Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping\n Still doth the pure light its dawning delay\n When will that day-star, mildly springing,\n Warm our Isle with peace and love?\n When will Heaven, its sweet bell ringing,\n Call my spirit to the fields above?\n\n\nAt last, while she stood gazing in despair over the waste of waters, she\nsaw her brothers swimming from different directions towards the rock.\nThey came to her one by one, and she welcomed them joyfully: and she\nplaced Aed under the feathers of her breast, and Ficra and Conn under\nher wings, and said to them:--\"My dear brothers, though ye may think\nlast night very bad, we shall have many like it from this time forth.\"\n\nSo they continued for a long time on the Sea of Moyle, suffering\nhardships of every kind, till one winter night came upon them, of great\nwind and of snow and frost so severe, that nothing they ever before\nsuffered could be compared to the misery of that night. The swans\nremained on Carricknarone, and their feet and their wings were frozen to\nthe icy surface, so that they had to strive hard to move from their\nplaces in the morning; and they left the skin of their feet, the quills\nof their wings, and the feathers of their breasts clinging to the rock.\n\n\"Sad is our condition this night, my beloved brothers,\" said Finola,\n\"for we are forbidden to leave the Sea of Moyle; and yet we cannot bear\nthe salt water, for when it enters our wounds, I fear we shall die of\npain.\" And she uttered these words--\n\n\n Our life is a life of woe;\n No shelter or rest we find:\n How bitterly drives the snow;\n How cold is this wintry wind!\n\n From the icy spray of the sea,\n From the wind of the bleak north-east,\n I shelter my brothers three,\n Under my wings and breast.\n\n The witch-lady sent us here,\n And misery well we know:--\n In cold and hunger and fear;\n Our life is a life of woe![36-1]\n\n\n [36-1] Short Irish poems often began and ended in the same words, as\n seen in the above translation.\n\nThey were, however, forced to swim out on the stream of Moyle, all\nwounded and torn as they were; for though the brine was sharp and\nbitter, they were not able to avoid it. They stayed as near the coast as\nthey could, till after a long time the feathers of their breasts and\nwings grew again, and their wounds were healed.\n\nAfter this the swans lived on for a great number of years, sometimes\nvisiting the shores of Erin, and sometimes the headlands of Alban. But\nthey always returned to the sea-stream of Moyle, for it was to be their\nhome till the end of three hundred years.\n\nOne day they came to the mouth of the Bann, on the north coast of Erin,\nand looking inland, they saw a stately troop of horsemen approaching\ndirectly from the south-west. They were mounted on white steeds, and\nclad in bright-coloured garments, and as they wound towards the shore\ntheir arms glittered in the sun.\n\nThese were a party of the Dedannans who had been a long time searching\nfor the children of Lir along the northern shores of Erin: and now that\nthey had found them, they were joyful; and they and the swans greeted\neach other with tender expressions of friendship and love. The children\nof Lir inquired after the Dedannans, and particularly after their father\nLir; and for Bove Derg, and for all the rest of their friends and\nacquaintances.\n\n\"They are well,\" replied the Dedannans; \"but all are mourning for you\nsince the day you left Lake Darvra. And now we wish to know how you fare\non this wild sea.\"\n\n\"Miserable has been our life since that day,\" said Finola; \"and no\ntongue can tell the suffering and sorrow we have endured on the Sea of\nMoyle.\" And she chanted these words--\n\n\n Ah, happy is Lir's bright home to-day,\n With mead and music and poet's lay:\n But gloomy and cold his children's home,\n For ever tossed on the briny foam.\n\n Our wreath\u00e8d feathers are thin and light\n When the wind blows keen through the wintry night:\n Yet often we were robed, long, long ago,\n In purple mantles and furs of snow.\n\n On Moyle's bleak current our food and wine\n Are sandy sea-weed and bitter brine:\n Yet oft we feasted in days of old,\n And hazel-mead drank from cups of gold.\n\n Our beds are rocks in the dripping caves;\n Our lullaby song the roar of the waves:\n But soft rich couches once we pressed,\n And harpers lulled us each night to rest.\n\n Lonely we swim on the billowy main,\n Through frost and snow, through storm and rain:\n Alas for the days when round us moved\n The chiefs and princes and friends we loved!\n\n My little twin brothers beneath my wings\n Lie close when the north wind bitterly stings,\n And Aed close nestles before my breast;\n Thus side by side through the night we rest.\n\n Our father's fond kisses, Bove Derg's embrace,\n The light of Mannanan's godlike face,\n The love of Angus--all, all are o'er;\n And we live on the billows for evermore!\n\n\nAfter this they bade each other farewell, for it was not permitted to\nthe children of Lir to remain away from the stream of Moyle.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nHOW THE CHILDREN OF LIR REGAINED THEIR HUMAN SHAPE AND DIED.\n\n\nGreat was the misery of the Children of Lir on the sea of Moyle till\ntheir three hundred years were ended. Then Finola said to her brothers--\n\n\"It is time for us to leave this place, for our period here has come to\nan end.\"\n\n\n The hour has come; the hour has come;\n Three hundred years have passed:\n We leave this bleak and gloomy home,\n And we fly to the west at last!\n\n We leave for ever the stream of Moyle;\n On the clear, cold wind we go;\n Three hundred years round Glora's Isle,\n Where wintry tempests blow!\n\n No sheltered home, no place of rest,\n From the tempest's angry blast:\n Fly, brothers, fly, to the distant west,\n For the hour has come at last!\n\n\nSo the swans left the Sea of Moyle, and flew westward, till they reached\nthe sea round the Isle of Glora. There they remained for three hundred\nyears, suffering much from storm and cold, and in nothing better off\nthan they were on the Sea of Moyle. Towards the end of that time, St.\nPatrick came to Erin with the pure faith; and St. Kemoc, one of his\ncompanions, came to Inish Glora. The first night Kemoc came to the\nisland, the children of Lir heard his bell at early matin time, ringing\nfaintly in the distance. And the three sons of Lir trembled with fear,\nfor the sound was strange and dreadful to them. But Finola knew well\nwhat it was; and she soothed them and said:--\"My dear brothers, this is\nthe voice of the Christian bell: and now the end of our suffering is\nnear: for this bell is the signal that we shall soon be freed from our\nspell, and released from our life of suffering; for God has willed it.\"\n\nAnd when the bell ceased she chanted this lay--\n\n\n Listen, ye swans, to the voice of the bell,\n The sweet bell we've dreamed of for many a year;\n Its tones floating by on the night breezes, tell\n That the end of our long life of sorrow is near!\n\n Listen, ye swans, to the heavenly strain;\n 'Tis the anchoret tolling his soft matin bell:\n He has come to release us, from sorrow, from pain,\n From the cold and tempestuous shores where we dwell!\n\n Trust in the glorious Lord of the sky;\n He will free us from Eva's druidical spell:\n Be thankful and glad, for our freedom is nigh,\n And listen with joy to the voice of the bell!\n\n\n\"Let us sing our music now,\" said Finola.\n\nAnd they chanted a low, sweet, plaintive strain of fairy music, to\npraise and thank the great high King of heaven and earth.\n\nKemoc heard the music from where he stood; and he listened with great\nastonishment. And he came and spoke to the swans, and asked them were\nthey the children of Lir. They replied, \"We are indeed the children of\nLir, who were changed long ago into swans by the spells of the\nwitch-lady.\"\n\n\"I give God thanks that I have found you,\" said Kemoc; \"for it is on\nyour account I have come to this little island.\" Then he brought them to\nhis own house; and, sending for a skilful workman, he caused him to make\ntwo bright, slender chains of silver; and he put a chain between Finola\nand Aed, and the other chain he put between Ficra and Conn. And there\nthey lived with Kemoc in content and happiness.\n\nNow there was in that place a certain king named Largnen, whose queen\nwas Decca: the very king and queen whom the witch-lady had foretold on\nthe day when she changed the children into swans, nine hundred years\nbefore. And Queen Decca, hearing all about those wonderful speaking\nswans, wished to have them for herself: so she sent to Kemoc for them;\nbut he refused to give them. Whereupon the queen waxed very wroth: and\nher husband the king, when she told him about it, was wroth also: and he\nset out straightway for Kemoc's house to bring the swans away by force.\nThe swans were at this time standing in the little church with Kemoc.\nAnd Largnen coming up, seized the two silver chains, one in each hand,\nand drew the birds towards the door; while Kemoc followed him, much\nalarmed lest they should be injured.\n\nThe king had proceeded only a little way, when suddenly the white\nfeathery robes faded and disappeared; and the swans regained their human\nshape, Finola being transformed into an extremely old woman, and the\nthree sons into three feeble old men, white-haired and bony and\nwrinkled.\n\nWhen the king saw this, he started with affright, and instantly left the\nplace without speaking one word.\n\nAs to the children of Lir, they turned towards Kemoc; and Finola spoke--\n\n\"Come, holy cleric, and baptise us without delay, for our death is near.\nYou will grieve after us, O Kemoc; but in truth you are not more\nsorrowful at parting from us than we are at parting from you. Make our\ngrave here and bury us together; and as I often sheltered my brothers\nwhen we were swans, so let us be placed in the grave--Conn standing\nnear me at my right side, Ficra at my left, and Aed before my\nface.\"[43-1]\n\n\n Come, holy priest, with book and prayer\n Baptise and bless us here:\n Haste, cleric, haste, for the hour has come\n And death at last is near!\n\n Dig our grave--a deep, deep grave,\n Near the church we loved so well;\n This little church, where first we heard\n The voice of the Christian bell.\n\n As oft in life my brothers dear\n Were sooth'd by me to rest--\n Ficra and Conn beneath my wings,\n And Aed before my breast;\n\n So place the two on either hand--\n Close, like the love that bound me;\n Place Aed as close before my face,\n And twine their arms around me\n\n Thus shall we rest for evermore,\n My brothers dear and I;\n Haste, cleric, haste, baptise and bless,\n For death at last is nigh!\n\n\n [43-1] In Ireland, in old times, the dead were often buried\n standing up in the grave. It was in this way Finola and\n her brothers were buried.\n\n[Illustration: An Ogham stone. See note, next page.]\n\n[Illustration: Bronze spear-head. A long handle was fixed in the socket\nand fastened by a rivet.]\n\n[Illustration: Bronze sword. A hilt was fixed on by rivets.]\n\nThen the children of Lir were baptised, and they died immediately. And\nwhen they died, Kemoc looked up; and lo, he saw a vision of four lovely\nchildren, with light, silvery wings, and faces all radiant with joy.\nThey gazed on him for a moment; but even as they gazed, they vanished\nupwards, and he saw them no more. And he was filled with gladness, for\nhe knew they had gone to heaven; but when he looked down on the four\nbodies lying before him, he became sad and wept.\n\nAnd Kemoc caused a wide and deep grave to be dug near the little church;\nand the children of Lir were buried together, as Finola had\ndirected--Conn at her right hand, Ficra at her left, and Aed standing\nbefore her face. And he raised a grave-mound over them, placing a\ntombstone on it, with their names graved in Ogham;[45-1] after which he\nuttered a lament for them, and their funeral rites were performed.\n\n [45-1] Ogham, a sort of writing often used on tombstones to mark the\n names of the persons buried. It consisted of lines and\n points generally cut on the edges of the stone.\n\nSo far we have related the sorrowful story of the Fate of the Children\nof Lir.\n\n From \"Old Celtic Romances,\" by P. W. JOYCE, LL.D.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nHOW RELIGION AND LEARNING FLOURISHED IN IRELAND.\n\n\nAs soon as St. Patrick had entered on his mission in Ireland, he began\nto found monasteries, which continued to spread through every part of\nthe country for hundreds of years after his time. Though religion was\ntheir main object, these establishments were among the chief means of\nspreading general enlightenment among the people. Almost every\nmonastery had a school or college attached, at the head of which was\nsome man who was a great scholar and teacher. The teachers were\ngenerally monks: but many learned laymen were also employed. Some\ncolleges had very large numbers of students: for instance, we are told\nthat there were 3000 in each of the two colleges of Clonard and\nBangor[46-1]; and many others might be named, which, though not so\nlarge, had yet several hundred students in each.\n\n [46-1] Clonard, in Meath, on the Boyne. Bangor, in the Co. Down.\n\nIn these monasteries and their schools all was life and activity. The\nmonks were always busily employed; some at tillage on the farm round the\nmonastery--ploughing, digging, sowing, reaping--some teaching, others\nwriting books. The duty of a few was to attend to travellers, to wash\ntheir feet and prepare supper and bed for them: for strangers who called\nat the monastery were always received with welcome, and got lodging,\nfood, and attendance from the monks, all free. Others of the inmates,\nagain, employed themselves in cooking, or carpentry, or smithwork, or\nmaking clothes, for the use of the community. Besides all this they had\ntheir devotions to attend to, at certain times, both day and night,\nthroughout the year. As for the students, they had to mind their own\nsimple household concerns, and each day when these were finished they\nhad plenty of employment in their studies: for the professors kept them\nhard at work.\n\nThere were also great numbers of schools not held in monasteries,\nconducted by laymen, some for general learning, such as History, Poetry,\nGrammar, Latin, Greek, Irish, the Sciences, &c.; and some for teaching\nand training young men for professions, such as lawyers and doctors. And\nthese schools helped greatly to spread learning, though they were not so\nwell known outside Ireland as the monastic schools.\n\nThe Irish professors were so famed for their learning, and the colleges\nwere so excellent, that students came to them from every country of\nEurope: but more from Great Britain than elsewhere. The Irish were very\nmuch pleased to receive these foreign students: and they were so\ngenerous that they supplied them with food, gave them the manuscript\nbooks they wanted to learn from, and taught them too, all free of\ncharge. Ireland was in those times the most learned country in Europe,\nso that it was known by the name of the Island of Saints and Scholars.\n\nBut the Irish scholars and missionaries did not confine themselves to\ntheir own country. Great numbers of them went abroad--to Britain and\nelsewhere--to teach and to preach the Gospel to the people. The\nprofessors from Ireland were held in such estimation that they were\nemployed to teach in most of the schools and colleges of Great Britain\nand the Continent.\n\nWe shall see that the Northern Picts of Scotland were converted by St.\nColumkille and his monks from Iona (see p. 144): and a large proportion\nof the people of England became Christians through the preaching of\nIrish monks before the arrival of St. Augustine.[48-1]\n\n [48-1] St. Augustine came to England in the year 596--having been\n sent by Pope Gregory--and converted to Christianity those\n of the English who had not been already converted.\n\nThe Irish missionaries, who went to the Continent, in their eagerness to\nspread religion and knowledge, penetrated to all parts of Europe: they\neven found their way to Iceland. Few people have any idea of the trials\nand dangers they encountered. Most of them were persons in good\nposition, who might have lived in plenty and comfort at home. They knew\nwell, when setting out, that they were leaving country and friends\nprobably for ever: for of those that went, very few ever returned. Once\non the Continent, they had to make their way poor and friendless,\nthrough people whose language they did not understand, and who were in\nmany places ten times more rude and dangerous in those ages than the\ninhabitants of these islands: and we know, as a matter of history, that\nmany were killed on the way. Then these earnest men had, of course, to\nlearn the language of the people among whom they took up their abode:\nfor until they did this they had to employ an interpreter, which was a\nvery troublesome and slow way of preaching. But the noble-hearted\nmissionaries went forth to do their good work; and no labours,\nhardships, or dangers could turn them from their purpose.\n\nMore than three hundred years ago the great English poet, Edmund\nSpenser, lived some time in Ireland, and made himself very well\nacquainted with its history. He knew what kind of a country it was in\npast ages; so that in one of his poems he speaks of the time\n\n\n \"When Ireland florish\u00e8d in fame\n Of wealth and goodnesse, far above the rest\n Of all that beare the British Islands name.\"\n\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish solid gold ornament, now in the National\nMuseum Dublin. It is double the size of the picture, and weighs 5-1/4\noz. Great numbers of gold objects, shaped like this, are in the National\nMuseum, some very large--one of them weighing 33 oz.: while others are\nquite small, not bigger than a common coat-button. Besides being\nornaments, it is believed that they were used as money, as there were no\ncoins in use in very ancient times in Ireland.]\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nTHE RED BRANCH KNIGHTS.\n\n\nNearly two miles west of Armagh are the remains of the ancient palace of\nEmain, or Emain Macha, often called Emania. They consist of a great\ncircular _rath_ or rampart of earth, with a deep trench outside it, and\na high mound within, the whole structure covering a space of about\nthirteen acres. At one time the circular ring was complete, but of late\nyears some portions of it have been levelled or removed. The houses in\nwhich the kings and heroes of old, with their numerous households, lived\nand feasted, stood mostly within the enclosure, and were all of wood,\nnot a trace of which remains. This great fort is now called by the\npeople of the place, the \"Navan Fort,\" or \"Navan Ring.\"\n\nAccording to Irish legendary history, Emain was founded about three\ncenturies before the beginning of the Christian era, by Macha of the\nGolden Hair, queen of Ulster; and for more than six hundred years it was\nthe residence of the kings of that province. But about the year A.D.\n331, it was destroyed by three princes from Tara, who invaded and\nconquered that part of Ulster; after which Emain was no longer\ninhabited.\n\nEarly in the first century of the Christian era flourished the Red\nBranch Knights, a band of heroes in the service of Concobar (or Conor)\nMac Nessa, king of Ulster. There were several bodies of them, under\nseparate commanders, who lived in different parts of the province. These\nleaders were the great heroes of the Red Branch, who are celebrated in\nancient Irish romance, and who are mentioned by Moore in his song, \"Let\nErin remember\":--\n\n\n \"When her kings with standard of green unfurled\n Led the Red Branch Knights to danger.\"\n\n\nEvery year during the summer months, various companies of the Knights\ncame to Emain under their several commanders, to be drilled and trained\nin military science and feats of arms. They were lodged in a large\nseparate building beside Emain, called Creeveroe or the Red Branch--from\nwhich the whole force took its name: and the townland in which this\ngreat house stood is still called Creeveroe. Each day the leaders were\nfeasted by King Concobar Mac Nessa in his own banquetting hall at Emain.\n\nThe greatest of all the Red Branch heroes was Cu-Culainn--\"the mightiest\nhero of the Scots,\" as he is called in one of the oldest of the Irish\nbooks--whose residence was _Dundalgan_, a mile west of the present town\nof Dundalk. This dun or fort consists of a high mound surrounded by an\nearthen rampart and trench, all of immense size, even in their ruined\nstate; but it has lost its old name and is now called the Moat of\nCastletown, while the original name Dundalgan, slightly altered, has\nbeen transferred to Dundalk.\n\nAnother of these Red Branch Knights' residences stands beside\nDownpatrick: viz., the great fort anciently called (among other names)\nDun-Keltair or Rath-Keltair, where lived the hero, Keltar of the\nBattles. It consists of a huge embankment of earth, nearly circular,\nwith the usual deep trench outside it, covering a space of about ten\nacres.\n\nNext to Cuculainn, the most renowned of those knights were Fergus Mac\nRoy, Leary the Victorious, Conall Carnagh, and the three Sons of Usna.\n\nThere were, at this same time, similar orders of knights in the other\nprovinces. Those of Munster were commanded by Curoi Mac Dara, who lived\nin a great stone fortress high up on the side of Caherconree Mountain,\nnear Tralee, the remains of which may be seen to this day. He was a\nmighty champion, and on one occasion vanquished Cuculainn in single\ncombat. The Connaught knights were in the service of Maive, the warlike\nqueen of that province, whose residence was the palace of Croghan, the\nruins of which still remain near the village of Rathcroghan in the north\nof Roscommon.\n\nIn the Book of the Dun Cow, the Book of Leinster, and other old\nmanuscripts (which will be found described farther on), there are great\nnumbers of romantic stories about those Red Branch Knights, and about\nthe Knights of Munster and Connaught, of which many have been translated\nand published.\n\nThe most celebrated of all these tales is what is called the _Tain_ or\n\"Cattle spoil\" of Quelna or Cooley.[53-1] Queen Maive, having some cause\nof quarrel with an Ulster chief, set out with her army for the north on\na plundering expedition, attended by all the great heroes of Connaught.\nDuring the march northwards, the queen, as the story tells us, had nine\nsplendid chariots for herself and her attendant chiefs, her own in the\ncentre, with two abreast in front, two behind, and two on each side,\nright and left; and--in the words of the old tale--\"the reason for this\norder was, lest the clods from the hoofs of the horses, or the\nfoam-flakes from their mouths, or the dust raised by that mighty host,\nshould strike and tarnish the golden diadem on the head of the queen.\"\n\n [53-1] Quelna or Cooley, the ancient name of the hilly peninsula\n lying between the bays of Carlingford and Dundalk: the\n name Cooley is still retained.\n\nThe invading army entered Quelna, which was then a part of Ulster and\nbelonged to Cuculainn. It happened just then that the men of Ulster were\nunder a spell of feebleness, all but Cuculainn, who had to defend\nsingle-handed the several fords and passes, in a series of combats\nagainst Maive's best champions, in all of which he was victorious. But,\nin spite of what he could do, Queen Maive carried off nearly all the\nbest cattle of Quelna, and, at their head, a great brown bull which\nindeed was what she chiefly came for. At length the Ulstermen, having\nbeen freed from the spell, attacked and routed the Connaught army. The\nbattles, single combats, and other incidents of this war are related in\nthe Tain, which consists of one main story, with about thirty minor\ntales grouped round it. Another Red Branch story is the Fate of the Sons\nof Usna, which has been always a favourite with Irish story-tellers, and\nwith the Irish people in general, and which is now given here,\ntranslated in full.\n\n[Illustration: A \"Cromlech,\" an ancient Irish tomb: still to be seen in\nits place in the Phoenix Park, Dublin. This is rather a small one, the\ncovering stone being only about 6-1/2 feet long. Some cromlechs are very\nlarge: one at Kilternan near Dublin has a covering stone 23-1/2 feet\nlong, 17 feet broad, and 6-1/2 feet thick: and no one can tell how the\npeople of old lifted it up.]\n\n\n\n\nDeirdre; or, The Fate of the Sons of Usna.[55-1]\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE FLIGHT TO ALBAN.\n\n\nConcobar Mac Nessa king of Ulaid[55-2] ruled in Emain. And his chief\nstoryteller, Felimid, made a feast for the king and for the knights of\nthe Red Branch; who all came to partake of it in his house. While they\nwere feasting right joyously, listening to the sweet music of the harps\nand the mellow voices of the bards, a messenger brought word that\nFelimid's wife had given birth to a little daughter, an infant of\nwondrous beauty. And when Caffa, the king's druid and seer, who was of\nthe company, was ware of the birth of the child, he went forth to view\nthe stars and the clouds, if he might thereby glean knowledge of what\nwas in store for that little babe.[55-3] And when he had returned to his\nplace, he sat deep pondering for a time: and then standing up and\nobtaining silence, he said:--\n\n\"This child shall be called Deir-dre[56-1]; and fittingly is she so\nnamed: for much of woe will befal Ulaid and Erin in general on her\naccount. There shall be jealousies, and strifes, and wars: evil deeds\nwill be done: many heroes will be exiled: many will fall.\"\n\n [55-1] The translation that follows is quite new, and is now\n published for the first time. On this fine story is\n founded the poem of \"Deirdre\" by Robert Dwyer Joyce, M.D.\n\n [55-2] Ulaid (pron. _Ulla_), Ulster.\n\n [55-3] The druids professed to be able to foretell by observing the\n stars and clouds.\n\n [56-1] \"Deirdre\" is said to mean \"alarm.\"\n\nWhen the heroes heard this they were sorely troubled, and some said that\nthe child should be killed. But the king said:--\"Not so, ye Knights of\nthe Red Branch, it is not meet to commit a base deed in order to escape\nevils that may never come to pass. This little maid shall be reared out\nof the reach of mischief, and when she is old enough she shall be my\nwife: thus shall I be the better able to guard against those evils that\nCaffa forecasts for us.\"\n\nAnd the Ultonians did not dare to gainsay the word of the king.\n\nThen king Concobar caused the child to be placed in a strong fortress on\na lonely spot nigh the palace, with no opening in front, but with door\nand windows looking out at the back on a lovely garden watered by a\nclear rippling stream: and house and garden were surrounded by a wall\nthat no man could surmount. And those who were put in charge of her\nwere, her tutor, and her nurse, and Concobar's poetess, whose name was\nLavarcam: and save these three, none were permitted to see her. And so\nshe grew up in this solitude, year by year, till she was of marriageable\nage; when she excelled all the maidens of her time for beauty.\n\nOne snowy day as she and Lavarcam looked forth from the window, they saw\nsome blood on the snow, where her tutor had killed a calf for dinner;\nand a raven alighted and began to drink of it. \"I should like,\" said\nDeirdre, \"that he who is to be my husband should have these three\ncolours: his hair as black as the raven: his cheeks red as the blood:\nhis skin like the snow. And I saw such a youth in a dream last night;\nbut I know not where he is, or whether he is living on the ridge of the\nworld.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Lavarcam, \"the young hero that answers to thy words is not\nfar from thee; for he is among Concobar's knights: namely, Naisi the son\nof Usna.\"\n\nNow Naisi and his brothers, Ainnli and Ardan, the three Sons of Usna,\nwere the best beloved of all the Red Branch Knights, so gracious and\ngentle were they in time of peace, so skilful and swift-footed in the\nchase, so strong and valiant in battle.\n\nAnd when Deirdre heard Lavarcam's words, she said:--\"If it be as thou\nsayest, that this young knight is near us, I shall not be happy till I\nsee him: and I beseech thee to bring him to speak to me.\"\n\n\"Alas, child,\" replied Lavarcam, \"thou knowest not the peril of what\nthou askest me to do: for if thy tutor come to know of it, he will\nsurely tell the king; and the king's anger none can bear.\"\n\nDeirdre answered not: but she remained for many days sad and silent: and\nher eyes often filled with tears through memory of her dream: so that\nLavarcam was grieved: and she pondered on the thing if it could be done,\nfor she loved Deirdre very much and had compassion on her. At last she\ncontrived that these two should meet without the tutor's knowledge: and\nthe end of the matter was that they loved each other: and Deirdre said\nshe would never wed the king, but she would wed Naisi.\n\nKnowing well the doom that awaited them when Concobar came to hear of\nthis, Naisi and his young wife and his two brothers, with thrice fifty\nfighting men, thrice fifty women, thrice fifty attendants, and thrice\nfifty hounds, fled over sea to Alban. And the king of the western part\nof Alban received them kindly and took them into military service. Here\nthey remained for a space, gaining daily in favour: but they kept\nDeirdre apart, fearing evil if the king should see her.\n\nAnd so matters went on, till it chanced that the king's steward, coming\none day by Naisi's house, saw the couple as they sat on their couch: and\ngoing directly to his master, he said:--\n\n\"O king, we have long sought in vain for a woman worthy to be thy wife,\nand now at last we have found her: for the woman, Deirdre, who is with\nNaisi, is worthy to be the wife of the king of the western world. And\nnow I give thee this counsel:--Let Naisi be killed, and then take thou\nDeirdre for thy wife.\"\n\n[Illustration: A burial urn. The ancient Irish sometimes buried as we do\nnow, placing the body in the grave, over which they often raised a cairn\nor a cromlech. Sometimes they burned the body and put the ashes in an\nurn, which they placed under a cromlech, or cairn, or burial mound. Urns\nwere always made of clay, which was baked till it was hard. They are\noften found in graves, especially under cairns and cromlechs: and they\nnearly always contain ashes and bits of burnt bones. Occasionally, as\nhas been already said (p. 43, note), persons were buried standing up,\nespecially kings and warriors, who were placed in the grave fully\narmed.]\n\nThe king basely agreed to do so; and forthwith he laid a plot to slay\nthe sons of Usna; which matter coming betimes to the ears of the\nbrothers, they fled by night with all their people. And when they had\ngot to a safe distance, they took up their abode in a wild place, where\nwith much ado they obtained food by hunting and fishing. And the\nbrothers built them three hunting booths in the forest, a little\ndistance from that part of the seashore looking towards Erin: and the\nbooth in which their food was prepared, in that they did not eat; and\nthe one in which they ate, in that they did not sleep. And their people\nin like manner built themselves booths and huts, which gave them but\nscant shelter from wind and weather.\n\nNow when it came to the ears of the Ultonians, that the sons of Usna and\ntheir people were in discomfort and danger, they were sorely grieved:\nbut they kept their thoughts to themselves, for they dared not speak\ntheir mind to the king.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nCONCOBAR'S GUILEFUL MESSAGE.\n\n\nAt this same time a right joyous and very splendid feast was driven by\nConcobar in Emain Macha to the nobles and the knights of his household.\nAnd the number of the king's household that sat them down in the great\nhall of Emain on that occasion was five and three score above six\nhundred and one thousand.[60-1] Then arose, in turn, their musicians to\nsound their melodious harpstrings, and their poets and their\nstory-tellers to sing their sweet poetic strains, and to recount the\ndeeds of the mighty heroes of the olden time. And the feasting and the\nenjoyment went on, and the entire assembly were gay and cheerful. At\nlength Concobar arose from where he sat high up on his royal seat;\nwhereupon the noise of mirth was instantly hushed. And he raised his\nkingly voice and said:--\n\n\"I desire to know from you, ye Nobles and Knights of the Red Branch,\nhave you ever seen in any quarter of Erin, a house better than this\nhouse of Emain, which is my mansion: and whether you see any want in\nit.\"\n\n [60-1] That is 1665. This inverted method of enumeration was often\n used in Ireland. But they also used direct enumeration\n like ours.\n\nAnd they answered that they saw no better house, and that they knew of\nno want in it.\n\nAnd the king said: \"I know of a great want: namely, that we have not\npresent among us the three noble sons of Usna. And why now should they\nbe in banishment on account of any woman in the world?\"\n\nAnd the nobles replied:--\"Truly it is a sad thing that the sons of Usna,\nour dear comrades, should be in exile and distress. They were a shield\nof defence to Ulaid: and now, O king, it will please us well that thou\nsend for them and bring them back, lest they and their people perish by\nfamine or fall by their enemies.\"\n\n\"Let them come,\" replied Concobar, \"and make submission to me: and\ntheir homes, and their lands, and their places among the Knights of the\nRed Branch shall be restored to them.\"\n\nNow Concobar was mightily enraged at the marriage and flight of Naisi\nand Deirdre, though he hid his mind from all men; and he spoke these\nwords pretending forgiveness and friendship. But there was guile in his\nheart, and he planned to allure them back to Ulaid that he might kill\nthem.\n\nWhen the feast was ended, and the company had departed, the king called\nunto him Fergus Mac Roy, and said:--\"Go thou, Fergus, and bring back the\nsons of Usna and their people. I promise thee that I will receive them\nas friends should be received, and that what awaits them here is not\nenmity or injury, but welcome and friendship. Take my message of peace\nand good will, and give thyself as pledge and surety for their safety.\nBut these two things I charge thee to do:--That the moment you land in\nUlaid on your way back, you proceed straight to Barach's house which\nstands on the sea cliff high over the landing place fronting Alban: and\nthat whether the time of your arrival be by day or by night, thou see\nthat the sons of Usna tarry not, but let them come hither direct to\nEmain, that they may not eat food in Erin till they eat of mine.\"\n\nAnd Fergus, suspecting no evil design, promised to do as the king\ndirected: for he was glad to be sent on this errand, being a fast friend\nto the sons of Usna.\n\nFergus set out straightway, bringing with him only his two sons, Illan\nthe Fair and Buinni the Red, and his shield bearer to carry his shield.\nAnd as soon as he had departed, Concobar sent for Barach and said to\nhim:--\n\n\"Prepare a feast in thy house for Fergus: and when he visits thee\nreturning with the sons of Usna, invite him to partake of it.\" And\nBarach thereupon departed for his home to do the bidding of the king and\nprepare the feast.\n\nNow those heroes of old, on the day they received knighthood, were wont\nto make certain pledges which were to bind them for life, some binding\nthemselves to one thing, some to another. And as they made the promises\non the faith of their knighthood, with great vows, in presence of kings\nand nobles, they dared not violate them; no, not even if it was to save\nthe lives of themselves and all their friends: for whosoever broke\nthrough his knighthood pledge was foully dishonoured for evermore. And\none of Fergus's obligations was never to refuse an invitation to a\nbanquet: a thing which was well known to King Concobar and to Barach.\n\nAs to Fergus Mac Roy and his sons: they went on board their galley and\nput to sea, and made no delay till they reached the harbour nigh the\ncampment of the sons of Usna. And coming ashore, Fergus gave the loud\nshout of a mighty man of chase. The sons of Usna were at that same hour\nin their booth; and Naisi and Deirdre were sitting with a polished\nchessboard between them playing a game.\n\nAnd when they heard the shout, Naisi said:--\"That is the call of a man\nfrom Erin.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" replied Deirdre, \"it is the call of a man of Alban.\"\n\nAnd after a little time when a second shout came, Naisi said:--\"That of\na certainty is the call of a man of Erin!\"\n\nBut Deirdre again replied:--\"No, indeed: it concerns us not: let us play\nour game.\"\n\nBut when a third shout came sounding louder than those before, Naisi\narose and said:--\"Now I know the voice: that is the shout of Fergus!\"\nAnd straightway he sent Ardan to the shore to meet him.\n\nNow Deirdre knew the voice of Fergus from the first: but she kept her\nthoughts to herself: for her heart misgave her that the visit boded\nevil. And when she told Naisi that she knew the first shout, he\nsaid:--\"Why, my queen, didst thou conceal it then?\"\n\nAnd she replied:--\"Lo, I saw a vision in my sleep last night: three\nbirds came to us from Emain Macha, with three drops of honey in their\nbeaks, and they left us the honey and took away three drops of our\nblood.\"\n\n\"What dost thou read from that vision, O princess?\" said Naisi.\n\n\"It denotes the message from Concobar to us,\" said Deirdre; \"for sweet\nas honey is the message of peace from a false man, while he has thoughts\nof blood hidden deep in his heart.\"\n\nWhen Ardan arrived at the shore, the sight of Fergus and his two sons\nwas to him like rain on the parched grass; for it was long since he had\nseen any of his dear comrades from Erin. And he cried out as he came\nnear, \"An affectionate welcome to you my dear companions\": and he fell\non Fergus's neck and kissed his cheeks, and did the like to his sons.\nThen he brought them to the hunting-booth; and Naisi, Ainnli, and\nDeirdre gave them a like kind welcome; after which they asked the news\nfrom Erin.\n\n\"The best news I have,\" said Fergus, \"is that Concobar has sent me to\nyou with kindly greetings, to bring you back to Emain and restore you to\nyour lands and homes, and to your places in the Red Branch; and I am\nmyself a pledge for your safety.\"\n\n\"It is not meet for them to go,\" said Deirdre: \"for here they are under\nno man's rule; and their sway in Alban is even as great as the sway of\nConcobar in Erin.\"\n\nBut Fergus said: \"One's mother country is better than all else, and\ngloomy is life when a man sees not his home each morning.\"\n\n\"Far dearer to me is Erin than Alban,\" said Naisi, \"even though my sway\nshould be greater here.\"\n\nIt was not with Deirdre's consent he spoke these words: and she still\nearnestly opposed their return to Erin.\n\nBut Fergus tried to re-assure her:--\"If all the men of Erin were against\nyou,\" said he, \"it would avail nought once I have passed my word for\nyour safety.\"\n\n\"We trust in thee,\" said Naisi, \"and we will go with thee to Erin.\"\n\n[Illustration: A gold box: 2-3/4 inches across: 1 inch deep. Found in a\ngrave in Co. Cork. Use not known.]\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish bronze lamp. Found in a _crannoge_ (i.e. an\nisland-dwelling in a lake) in Co. Roscommon. The vessel held the oil,\nand the wick projected from the pipe.]\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTHE RETURN TO EMAIN.\n\n\nGoing next morning on board their galleys, Fergus and his companions put\nout on the wide sea: and oar and wind bore them on swiftly till they\nlanded on the shore of Erin near the house of Barach.\n\nAnd Deirdre, seating herself on a cliff, looked sadly over the waters at\nthe blue headlands of Alban: and she uttered this farewell:--\n\n\nI.\n\n\"Dear to me is yon eastern land: Alban with its wonders. Beloved is\nAlban with its bright harbours and its pleasant hills of the green\nslopes. From that land I would never depart except to be with Naisi.\n\n\nII.\n\nKil-Cuan, O Kil-Cuan,[67-1] whither Ainnli was wont to resort: short\nseemed the time to me while I sojourned there with Naisi on the margins\nof its streams and waterfalls.\n\n [67-1] This and the other places named in Deirdre's Farewell are\n all in the west of Scotland.\n\n\nIII.\n\n\"Glen-Lee, O Glen-Lee, where I slept happy under soft coverlets: fish\nand fowl, and the flesh of red deer and badgers; these were our fare in\nGlen-Lee.\n\n\nIV.\n\n\"Glen-Masan, O Glen-Masan: tall its cresses of white stalks: often were\nwe rocked to sleep in our curragh in the grassy harbour of Glen-Masan.\n\n\nV.\n\n\"Glen-Orchy, O Glen-Orchy: over thy straight glen rises the smooth ridge\nthat oft echoed to the voices of our hounds. No man of the clan was more\nlight-hearted than my Naisi when following the chase in Glen-Orchy.\n\n\nVI.\n\n\"Glen-Ettive, O Glen-Ettive: there it was that my first house was raised\nfor me: lovely its woods in the smile of the early morn: the sun loves\nto shine on Glen-Ettive.\n\nVII.\n\n\"Glen-da-Roy, O Glen-da-Roy: the memory of its people is dear to me:\nsweet is the cuckoo's note from the bending bough on the peak over\nGlen-da-Roy.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n\"Dear to me is Dreenagh over the resounding shore: dear to me its\ncrystal waters over the speckled sand. From those sweet places I would\nnever depart, but only to be with my beloved Naisi.\"\n\n * * * * *\n\nAfter this they entered the house of Barach; and when Barach had\nwelcomed them, he said to Fergus: \"Here I have a three-days banquet\nready for thee, and I invite thee to come and partake of it.\"\n\nWhen Fergus heard this his heart sank and his face waxed all over a\ncrimson red: and he said fiercely to Barach:--\"Thou hast done an evil\nthing to ask me to this banquet: for well thou knowest I cannot refuse\nthee. Thou knowest, too, that I am under solemn pledge to send the Sons\nof Usna this very hour to Emain: and if I remain feasting in thy house,\nhow shall I see that my promise of safety is respected?\"\n\nBut none the less did Barach persist; for he was one of the partners in\nConcobar's treacherous design.\n\nThen Fergus turned to Naisi and said:--\"I dare not violate my knighthood\npromise: what am I to do in this strait?\" But Deirdre answered for her\nhusband:--\"The choice is before thee, Fergus; and it is more meet for\nthee to abandon thy feast than to abandon the sons of Usna, who have\ncome over on thy pledge.\"\n\nThen Fergus was in sore perplexity; and pondering a little he said:--\"I\nwill not forsake the sons of Usna: for I will send with them to Emain\nMacha my two sons, Illan the Fair and Buinni the Red, who will be their\npledge instead of me.\"\n\nBut Naisi said: \"We need not thy sons for guard or pledge: we have ever\nbeen accustomed to defend ourselves!\" And he moved from the place in\ngreat wrath: and his two brothers, and Deirdre, and the two sons of\nFergus followed him, with the rest of the clan; while Fergus remained\nbehind silent and gloomy: for his heart misgave him that mischief was\nbrewing for the sons of Usna.\n\nThen Deirdre tried to persuade the sons of Usna to go to Rathlin between\nErin and Alban, and tarry there till Barach's feast was ended: but they\ndid not consent to do so, for they deemed it would be a mark of\ncowardice: and they sped on by the shortest ways towards Emain Macha.\n\nWhen now they had come to Fincarn of the Watch-tower on Slieve Fuad,\nDeirdre and her attendants stayed behind the others a little: and she\nfell asleep. And when Naisi missed her he turned back and found her just\nawakening; and he said to her:--\"Why didst thou tarry, my princess?\"\n\nAnd she answered:--\"I fell asleep and had a dream. And this is what I\nsaw in my dream:--Illan the Fair took your part: Buinni the Red did not:\nand I saw Illan without his head: but Buinni had neither wound nor\nhurt.\"\n\n\"Alas, O beauteous princess,\" said Naisi, \"thou utterest nought but evil\nforebodings: but the king is true and will not break his plighted word.\"\n\nSo they fared on till they had come to the Ridge of the Willows,[70-1]\nan hour's journey from the palace: and Deirdre, looking upwards in great\nfear, said to Naisi:--\"O Naisi, see yonder cloud in the sky over Emain,\na fearful chilling cloud of a blood-red tinge: a baleful red cloud that\nbodes disaster! Come ye now to Dundalgan and abide there with the mighty\nhero Cuculainn till Fergus returns from Barach's feast; for I fear\nConcobar's treachery.\"\n\n [70-1] Irish name _Drum-Sailech_; the ridge on which Armagh was\n afterwards built.\n\nBut Naisi answered:--\"We cannot follow thy advice, beloved Deirdre, for\nit would be a mark of fear: and we have no fear.\"\n\nAnd as they came nigh the palace Deirdre said to them:--\"I will now give\nyou a sign if Concobar meditates good or evil. If you are brought into\nhis own mansion where he sits surrounded by his nobles, to eat and drink\nwith him, this is a token that he means no ill; for no man will injure a\nguest that has partaken of food at his table: but if you are sent to the\nhouse of the Red Branch, be sure he is bent on treachery.\"\n\nWhen at last they arrived at the palace they knocked loudly with the\nhandwood: and the door-keeper swang the great door wide open. And when\nhe had spoken with them he went and told Concobar that the sons of Usna\nand Fergus's two sons had come, with their people.\n\nAnd Concobar called to him his stewards and attendants and asked\nthem:--\"How is it in the house of the Red Branch as to food and drink?\"\nAnd they replied that if the seven battalions of Ulaid were to come to\nit they would find enough of all good things \"If that is so,\" said\nConcobar, \"take the sons of Usna and their people to the Red Branch.\"\n\nEven then Deirdre besought them not to enter the Red Branch: for she\ndeemed now that of a certainty there was mischief afoot. But Illan the\nFair said:--\"Never did we show cowardice or unmanliness, and we shall\nnot do so now.\" Then she was silent and went with them into the house.\n\nAnd the company, when they had come in, sat them down so that they\nfilled the great hall: and alluring viands and delicious drinks were set\nbefore them: and they ate and drank till they became satisfied and\ncheerful: all except Deirdre and the Sons of Usna, who did not partake\nmuch of food or drink. And Naisi asked for the king's chessboard and\nchessmen; which were brought: and he and Deirdre began to play.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nTROUBLE LOOMING.\n\n\nLet us now speak of Concobar. As he sat among his nobles, the thought of\nDeirdre came into his mind, and he said:--\"Who among you will go to the\nRed Branch and bring me tidings of Deirdre, whether her youthful shape\nand looks still live upon her: for if so there is not on the ridge of\nthe world a woman more beautiful.\" And Lavarcam said she would go.\n\nNow the Sons of Usna were very dear to Lavarcam: and Naisi was dearer\nthan the others. And rising up she went to the Red Branch, where she\nfound Naisi and Deirdre with the chessboard between them, playing. And\nshe saluted them affectionately: and she embraced Deirdre, and wept over\nher, and kissed her many times with the eagerness of her love: and she\nkissed the cheeks of Naisi and of his brothers.\n\nAnd when her loving greeting was ended, she said:--\"Beloved children,\nevil is the deed that is to be done this night in Emain: for the three\ntorches of valour of the Gaels will be treacherously assailed, and\nConcobar is certainly resolved to put them to death. And now set your\npeople on guard, and bolt and bar all doors, and close all windows; and\nbe steadfast and valourous, and defend your dear charge manfully, if you\nmay hold the assailants at bay till Fergus comes.\" And she departed\nweeping piteously.\n\nAnd when Lavarcam had returned to Concobar asked what tidings she\nbrought. \"Good tidings have I,\" said she: \"for the three Sons of Usna\nhave come, the three valiant champions of Ulaid: and now that they are\nwith thee, O king, thou wilt hold sway in Erin without dispute. And bad\ntidings I bring also: Deirdre indeed is not as she was, for her youthful\nform and the splendour of her countenance have fled from her.\"\n\nAnd when Concobar heard this his jealousy abated, and he joined in the\nfeasting.\n\nBut again the thought of Deirdre came to him, and he asked:--\"Who now\nwill go for me to the Red Branch and bring me further tidings of Deirdre\nand of the Sons of Usna?\" for he distrusted Lavarcam. But the Knights of\nthe Red Branch had misgivings of some evil design, and all remained\nsilent.\n\nThen he called to him Trendorn, one of the lesser chiefs: and he\nsaid:--\"Knowest thou, Trendorn, who slew thy father and thy three\nbrothers in battle?\" And Trendorn answered:--\"Verily, it was Naisi the\nson of Usna that slew them.\" Then the king said:--\"Go now to the Red\nBranch and bring me back tidings of Deirdre and of the Sons of Usna.\"\n\nTrendorn went right willingly. But when he found the doors and windows\nof the Red Branch shut up, he was seized with fear, and he said: \"It is\nnot safe to approach the Sons of Usna, for they are surely in wrathful\nmood: nevertheless I must needs bring back tidings to the king.\"\n\nWhereupon, not daring to knock at the door, he climbed nimbly to a small\nwindow high up that had been unwittingly left open, through which he\nviewed the spacious banquet hall, and saw Naisi and Deirdre playing\nchess. Deirdre chanced to look up at that moment, and seeing the face of\nthe spy with eyes intently gazing on her, she started with affright and\ngrasped Naisi's arm, as he was making a move with the chessman. Naisi,\nfollowing her gaze, and seeing the evil-looking face, flung the chessman\nwith unerring aim and broke the eye in Trendorn's head.\n\nTrendorn dropped down in pain and rage; and going straight to Concobar,\nhe said:--\"I have tidings for thee, O king: the three Sons of Usna are\nsitting in the banquet hall, stately and proud like kings: and Deirdre\nis seated beside Naisi; and verily, for beauty and queenly grace, her\npeer cannot be found.\"\n\nWhen Concobar heard this, a flame of jealousy and fury blazed up in his\nheart, and he resolved that by no means should the Sons of Usna escape\nthe doom he planned for them.\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nTHE ATTACK ON THE SONS OF USNA.\n\n\nComing forth on the lawn of Emain, King Concobar now ordered a large\nbody of hireling troops to beset the Red Branch: and he bade them force\nthe doors and bring forth the sons of Usna. And they uttered three\ndreadful shouts of defiance, and assailed the house on every side; but\nthe strong oak stood bravely, and they were not able to break through\ndoors or walls. So they heaped up great piles of wood and brambles and\nkindled them till the red flames blazed round the house.\n\nBuinni the Red now stood up and said to the Sons of Usna:--\"To me be\nintrusted the task to repel this first assault: for I am your pledge in\nplace of my father.\" And marshalling his men, and causing the great door\nto be thrown wide open, he sallied forth and scattered the assailants\nand put out the fires: slaying thrice fifty hirelings in that onslaught.\n\nBut Buinni returned not to the Red Branch: for the king sent to him with\na secret offer of great favours and bribes: namely, his own royal\nfriendship, and a fruitful tract of land; which Buinni took and basely\nabandoned the sons of Usna. But none the better luck came to him of it:\nfor at that same hour a blight fell on the land, so that it became a\nmoor, waste and profitless, which is at this day called Slieve Fuad.\n\nWhen Illan the Fair became aware of his brother's treason, he was\ngrieved to the heart, and he said:--\"I am the second pledge in place of\nmy father for the sons of Usna, and of a certainty I will not betray\nthem: while this straight sword lives in my hand I will be faithful: and\nI will now repel this second attack.\" For at this time the king's\nhirelings were again thundering at the doors.\n\nForth he issued with his band: and he made three quick furious circuits\nround the Red Branch, scattering the troops as he went: after which he\nreturned to the mansion and found Naisi and Deirdre still playing.[77-1]\nBut as the hireling hordes returned to the attack, he went forth a\nsecond time and fell on them, dealing death and havoc whither-soever he\nwent.\n\n [77-1] These champions, as well as their wives, took care never to\n show any signs of fear or alarm even in the time of\n greatest danger: so Naisi and Deirdre kept playing\n quietly as if nothing was going on outside, though they\n heard the din of battle resounding.\n\nThen, while the fight was still raging, Concobar called to him his son\nFicra, and said to him:--\"Thou and Illan the Fair were born on the same\nnight: and as he has his father's arms, so thou take mine, namely, my\nshield which is called the Ocean, and my two spears which are called\nDart and Slaughter, and my great sword, the Blue-green blade. And bear\nthyself manfully against him, and vanquish him, else none of my troops\nwill survive.\"\n\nFicra did so and went against Illan the Fair; and they made a stout,\nwarlike, red-wounding attack on each other, while the others looked on\nanxious: but none dared to interfere. And it came to pass that Illan\nprevailed, so that Ficra was fain to shelter himself behind his father's\nshield the Ocean, and he was like to be slain. Whereupon the shield\nmoaned, and the Three Waves of Erin uttered their hollow melancholy\nroar.[77-2]\n\n [77-2] The \"Three _Tonns_ or Waves of Erin\" were the Wave of Tuath\n outside the mouth of the river Bann, off the coast of\n Derry; the Wave of Rury in Dundrum Bay, off the county\n Down; and the Wave of Cleena in Glandore Harbour in the\n south of Cork. In stormy weather, when the wind blows from\n certain directions, the sea at those places, as it tumbles\n over the sandbanks, or among the caves and fissures of the\n rocks, utters a loud and solemn roar, which in old times\n was believed to forebode the death of some king.\n\n The legends also tell that the shield belonging to a king\n moaned when the person who wore it in battle--whether the\n king himself or a member of his family--was in danger of\n death: the moan was heard all over Ireland; and the\n \"Three Waves of Erin\" roared in response. See \"Irish\n Names of Places,\" Vol. II., Chap. XVI.\n\nThe hero Conall Carnagh, sitting in his dun afar off, heard the moan of\nthe shield and the roar of the Wave of Tuath: and springing up from\nwhere he sat, he said: \"Verily, the king is in danger: I will go to his\nrescue.\"\n\nHe ran with the swiftness of the wind, and arrived on the Green of Emain\nwhere the two young heroes were fighting. Thinking it was Concobar that\ncrouched beneath the shield, he attacked Illan, not knowing him, and\nwounded him even unto death. And Illan looking up said, \"Is it thou,\nConall! Alas, dreadful is the deed thou hast done, not knowing me, and\nnot knowing that I am fighting in defence of the Sons of Usna who are\nnow in deadly peril from the treachery of Concobar.\"\n\nAnd Conall, finding he had unwittingly wounded his dear young friend\nIllan, turned in his grief and rage on the other, and swept off his\nhead. And he stalked fierce and silent out of the battlefield.\n\nIllan, still faithful to his charge, called aloud to Naisi to defend\nhimself bravely: then putting forth his remaining strength, he flung his\narms, namely, his sword and his spears and his shield, into the Red\nBranch; and falling prone on the green sward, the shades of death dimmed\nhis eyes, and his life departed.\n\nAnd now when it was the dusk of evening, another great battalion of the\nhirelings assailed the Red Branch, and kindled fagots around it:\nwhereupon Ardan sallied out with his valorous band and scattered them,\nand put out the fires, and held guard for the first third of the night.\nAnd during the second third Ainnli kept them at bay.\n\nThen Naisi took his turn, issuing forth, and fought with them till the\nmorning's dawn: and until the sands of the seashore, or the leaves of\nthe forest, or the dew drops on the grass, or the stars of heaven are\ncounted, it will not be possible to number the hirelings that were slain\nin that fight by Naisi and his band of heroes.\n\nAnd as he was returning breathless from the rout, all grimy and terrible\nwith blood and sweat, he spied Lavarcam, as she stood watching the\nbattle anxiously; and he said:--\"Go, Lavarcam, go and stand on the outer\nrampart, and cast thine eyes eastwards, if perchance thou shouldst see\nFergus and his men coming.\"\n\nFor many of Naisi's brave followers had fallen in these encounters: and\nhe doubted that he and the others could sustain much longer the\ncontinual assaults of superior numbers. And Lavarcam went, but returned\ndowncast, saying she saw nought eastwards, but the open plain with the\npeaceful herds browsing over it.\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nDEATH OF THE SONS OF USNA.\n\n\nBelieving now that they could no longer defend the Red Branch, Naisi\ntook council with his brothers; and what they resolved on was this:--To\nsally forth with all their men and fight their way to a place of safety.\nThen making a close firm fence of shields and spears round Deirdre, they\nmarched out in solid ranks and attacked the hireling battalions and slew\nthree hundred in that onslaught.\n\nConcobar, seeing the rout of his men, and being now sure that it was not\npossible to subdue the Sons of Usna in open fight, cast about if he\nmight take them by falsehood and craft. And sending for Caffa the druid,\nwho loved them, he said:--\n\n\"These sons of Usna are brave men, and it is our pleasure to receive\nthem back into our service. Go now unto them, for thou art their loved\nfriend; and say to them that if they lay down their arms and submit to\nme, I will restore them to favour and give them their places among the\nRed Branch Knights. And I pledge thee my kingly word and my troth as a\ntrue knight, that no harm shall befal them.\"\n\nCaffa, by no means distrusting him, went to the Sons of Usna and told\nthem all the king had said. And they, suspecting neither guile nor\ntreachery joyfully threw their swords and spears aside, and went towards\nthe king to make submission. But now, while they stood defenceless, the\nking caused them to be seized and bound. Then, turning aside he sought\nfor some one to put them to death; but he found no man of the Ultonians\nwilling to do so.\n\nAmong his followers was a foreigner named Maini of the Rough Hand, whose\nfather and two brothers had fallen in battle by Naisi: and this man\nundertook to kill the Sons of Usna.\n\nWhen they were brought forth to their doom, Ardan said:--\"I am the\nyoungest: let me be slain first that I may not see the death of my\nbrothers.\" And Ainnli earnestly pleaded for the same thing for himself,\nsaying that he was born before Ardan and should die before him.\n\nBut Naisi said:--\"Lo, I have a sword, the gift of Mannanan Mac Lir,\nwhich leaves no remnant unfinished after a blow: let us be struck with\nit, all three together, and we shall die at the same moment.\"\n\nThis was agreed to: and the sword was brought forth, and they laid their\nheads close together, and Maini swept off all three with one blow of the\nmighty sword. And when it became known that the Sons of Usna were dead,\nthe men of Ulaid sent forth three great cries of grief and lamentation.\n\nAs for Deirdre, she cried aloud, and tore her golden hair, and became\nlike one distracted. And after a time, when her calmness had a little\nreturned, she uttered a lament:--\n\n\nI.\n\n\"Three lions of the hill are dead, and I am left alone to weep for them.\nThe generous princes who made the stranger welcome have been guilefully\nlured to their doom.\n\n\nII.\n\n\"The three strong hawks of Slieve Cullinn,[82-1] a king's three sons,\nstrong and gentle: willing obedience was yielded to them by heroes who\nhad conquered many lands.\n\n [82-1] Slieve Cullinn, now Slieve Gullion mountain in Armagh.\n\n\nIII.\n\n\"Three generous heroes of the Red Branch, who loved to praise the valour\nof others: three props of the battalions of Quelna: their fall is the\ncause of bitter grief.\n\n\nIV.\n\n\"Ainnli and Ardan, haughty and fierce in battle, to me were ever loving\nand gentle: Naisi, Naisi, beloved spouse of my choice, thou canst not\nhear thy Deirdre lamenting thee.\n\n\nV.\n\n\"When they brought down the fleet red deer in the chase, when they\nspeared the salmon skilfully in the clear water, joyful and proud were\nthey if I looked on.\n\n\nVI.\n\n\"Often when my feeble feet grew weary wandering along the valleys, and\nclimbing the hills to view the chase, often would they bear me home\nlightly on their linked shields and spears.\n\n\nVII.\n\n\"It was gladness of heart to be with the Sons of Usna: long and weary is\nthe day without their company: short will be my span of life since they\nhave left me.\n\n\nVIII.\n\n\"Sorrow and tears have dimmed my eyes, looking at the grave of Naisi: a\ndark deadly sickness has seized my heart: I cannot, I cannot live after\nNaisi.\n\n\nIX.\n\n\"O, thou who diggest the new grave, make it deep and wide: let it be a\ngrave for four: for I will sleep for ever beside my beloved.\"\n\n\nWhen she had spoken these words, she fell beside the body of Naisi and\ndied immediately. And a great cairn of stones was piled over their\ngrave, and their names were inscribed in Ogham, and their funeral rites\nwere performed.\n\nThis is the sorrowful tale of The Fate of the Sons of Usna.\n\n\n\n\nXVII.\n\nAVENGING AND BRIGHT.\n\n\n Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin,\n On him, who the brave sons of Usna betray'd!\n For ev'ry fond eye he hath waken'd a tear in,\n A drop from his heart-wounds shall weep o'er her blade.\n\n By the red cloud that hung over Connor's dark dwelling,\n When Ulad's three champions lay sleeping in gore--\n By the billows of war which, so often high swelling,\n Have wafted these heroes to victory's shore?\n\n We swear to revenge them!--no joy shall be tasted,\n The harp shall be silent, the maiden unwed,\n Our halls shall be mute, and our fields shall lie wasted,\n Till vengeance is wreak'd on the murderer's head.\n\n Yes, monarch! though sweet are our home recollections,\n Though sweet are the tears that from tenderness fall;\n Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes, our affections,\n Revenge[85-1] on a tyrant is sweetest of all!\n\n THOMAS MOORE.\n\n [85-1] The Red Branch Knights were all pagans; and besides, what\n they meant here by revenge was merely punishment for a\n great crime.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nTHE WRATH OF FERGUS MAC ROY.\n\n\nBarach's banquet was ended. Fergus, anxious and impatient, returned with\nhis people to Emain. And when he found that the sons of Usna had been\nslain in violation of his pledge, and that his son, Illan the Fair, had\nfallen while defending them, his grief and wrath knew no bounds. Caffa\nthe druid was none the less incensed; and he was in sore anguish: for he\nit was, who, trusting in Concobar's deceitful promises, persuaded the\nsons of Usna to give up their arms and yield. And he pronounced the doom\nof Concobar's race, that neither he nor any of his descendants should\nreign in Emain thenceforward for evermore.\n\nAnd these two, Fergus and Caffa, collecting their men of valour, spoiled\nand laid waste Concobar's territory; till at last a battle was fought\nbetween them, in which the king was defeated, and three hundred of his\nbravest Ultonians were slain, besides his son and many other illustrious\npersons in his service. Fergus and Caffa then attacked Emain, and burned\nand pillaged it, and slew those who defended it. And though the palace\nwas rebuilt in due time, and continued to be the residence of the kings\nof Ulaid for more than three hundred years afterwards, none of\nConcobar's descendants possessed it, as Caffa had foretold.\n\n[Illustration: Bronze celts. A celt was a sort of battle axe; sometimes\nmade of bronze, sometimes of stone. The right hand figure shows how the\nbronze head was fixed to the handle. Great numbers of these celts of\nmany different shapes, both stone and bronze, are preserved in the\nNational Museum, Dublin.]\n\nAfter this, Fergus and other great champions of the Red Branch, with\nthree thousand warriors, marched into Connaught, where Ailell and\nMaive, king and queen of that province, being at war with Concobar,\nwelcomed them and took them gladly into their service. And for seven\nyears they continued to send marauding parties to spoil and ravage the\nprovince of Ulaid, so that many battles were fought, and many heroes\nwere slain. In the stories of this war we read much of the mighty\nchampion Cuculainn who was the chief defender of Ulaid against Ailell\nand Maive's forces.\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nANCIENT IRISH PHYSICIANS: PART I.\n\n\nAmong most nations of old times there were great leeches or physicians,\nwho were considered so skilful that the people believed they could cure\nwounds and ailments as if by magic. In some countries they became gods,\nas among the Greeks.\n\nThe ancient Irish people, too, had their mighty leech, a Dedannan named\nDianket, who, as they believed, could heal all wounds and cure all\ndiseases; so that he became the Irish God of Medicine. He had a son,\nMidac, and a daughter, Armedda, who were both as good as himself; and at\nlast Midac became so skilful that his father killed him in a fit of\njealousy. And, after some time, there grew up from the young doctor's\ngrave 365 herbs, each with virtue to cure some particular ailment. His\nsister Armedda plucked up these herbs, and carefully sorting them,\nwrapped them up in her mantle. But the jealous old Dianket came and\nmixed them all up, so that no one could distinguish them: and but for\nthis--according to the legend--every physician would now be able to cure\nall diseases without delay, by selecting and applying the proper herbs.\n\nLeaving these shadowy old-world stories, let us come down to historic\ntimes, when we shall, as it were, tread on solid ground. From the very\nearliest times medicine and surgery were carefully studied in Ireland:\nand there was a distinct class of professional medical doctors, who\nunderwent a course of education and practical training. A young man\nusually learned to be a physician by apprenticeship, i.e. by living in\nthe house of a regular physician, and accompanying him on his visits to\npatients to learn his methods of treatment.\n\nA king or a great chief had always a physician as part of his household,\nto attend to the health of his family. The usual remuneration of these\nmen was a residence and a tract of land in the neighbourhood, free of\nall rent and taxes, together with certain allowances: and the medical\nman might, if he chose, practise for fee outside the household. Some of\nthose in the service of great kings had castles, and lived in state like\nprinces. Those not so attached lived on their fees, like many doctors\nof the present day: and the fees for the various operations or\nattendances were laid down in the Brehon Law.[89-1]\n\n [89-1] The Brehon Law: that is, the old law of Ireland.\n\nThough medical doctors were looked up to with great respect, they had to\nbe very careful in exercising their profession. A leech who through\ncarelessness, or wilful neglect, or gross want of skill, failed to cure\na wound, might be brought before a brehon or judge, and if the case was\nproved home against him, he had to pay the same fine to the patient, as\nif he had inflicted the wound with his own hand.\n\n\n\n\nXX.\n\nANCIENT IRISH PHYSICIANS: PART II.\n\n\nMedicine, as a profession, like Law, History, &c., often ran in families\nin Ireland, descending regularly from father to son; and several Irish\nfamilies were distinguished leeches for generations, such as the\nO'Shiels, the O'Cassidys, the O'Hickeys, and the O'Lees.\n\nEach medical family kept a book, which was handed down reverently from\nfather to son, and in which was written, in Irish or Latin, all the\nmedical knowledge derived either from other books or from the actual\nexperience of the various members of the family; and many of these old\nvolumes, all in beautiful handwriting, are still preserved in Dublin and\nelsewhere. As showing the admirable spirit in which those good men\nstudied and practised their profession, and how much they loved it, it\nis worth while to give a translation of the opening statement, a sort of\npreface, in the Irish language, written at the beginning of one of these\nbooks, in the year 1352.\n\n\"May the good God have mercy on us all. I have here collected practical\nrules of medicine from several works, for the honour of God, for the\nbenefit of the Irish people, for the instruction of my pupils, and for\nthe love of my friends and of my kindred. I have translated many of them\ninto Gaelic from Latin books, containing the lore of the great leeches\nof Greece and Rome. These are sweet and profitable things which have\nbeen often tested by us and by our instructors.\n\n\"I pray God to bless those doctors who will use this book; and I lay it\nas an injunction on their souls, that they extract knowledge from it not\nby any means sparingly, and that they do not neglect the practical rules\nherein contained. More especially I charge them that they do their duty\ndevotedly in cases where they receive no payment on account of the\npoverty of their patients.\n\n\"Let every physician, before he begins his treatment, offer up a secret\nprayer for the sick person, and implore the heavenly Father, the\nPhysician and Balm-giver of all mankind, to prosper the work he is\nentering upon, and to save himself and his patient from failure.\"\n\nThere is good reason to believe that the noble sentiments here expressed\nwere generally those of the physicians of the time; from which we may\nsee that the old Irish medical doctors were quite as devoted to their\nprofession, as eager for knowledge, and as anxious about their patients\nas those of the present day.\n\nThe fame of the Irish physicians reached the continent. Even at a\ncomparatively late time, about three hundred years ago, when medicine\nhad been successfully studied and practised in Ireland for more than a\nthousand years, a well-known and distinguished physician of\nBrussels,[91-1] in a book written by him in Latin on medical subjects,\npraises the Irish doctors, and describes them correctly as follows:--\n\n [91-1] Van Helmont.\n\n\"In the household of every great lord in Ireland there is a physician\nwho has a tract of land for his support, and who is appointed to his\npost, not on account of the great amount of learning he brings away in\nhis head from colleges, but because he is able to cure diseases. His\nknowledge of the healing art is derived from books left him by his\nforefathers, which describe very exactly the marks and signs by which\nthe various diseases are known, and lay down the proper remedies for\neach. These remedies, [which are mostly herbs], are all produced in that\ncountry. Accordingly, the Irish people are much better managed in\nsickness than the Italians, who have a physician in every village.\"\n\nIt is pleasant to know that the Irish physicians of our time who, it is\ngenerally agreed, are equal to those of any other country in the world,\ncan look back with respect, and not without some feeling of pride, to\ntheir Irish predecessors of the times of old.\n\n\n\n\nXXI.\n\nTHE FENA OF ERIN.\n\n\nIn the third century of the Christian era lived the Fena[92-1] of Erin,\na famous body of warriors something like the Red Branch Knights of an\nolder time. Their most renowned commander was Finn Mac Cumaill [Cool],\nKing Cormac Mac Art's son-in-law, who of all the heroes of ancient\nIreland is at the present day best remembered in tradition by the\npeople.\n\n [92-1] Fena, spelled _Fianna_ in Irish, and pronounced _Feena_.\n\nFinn had his chief residence on the Hill of Allen, a remarkable\nflat-topped hill lying about four miles to the right of the railway as\nyou pass from Newbridge towards Kildare, which will be at once\nrecognised by a tall pillar erected fifty or sixty years ago on the\ntop, on the very site of Finn's palace. There are now very little\nremains of the palace-fort, which, there is good reason to believe, was\nat no time very large. Whatever remained of it has been cleared away,\npartly to make room for the pillar, and partly by cultivation, for the\nland has been tilled and cropped to the very summit. The whole\nneighbourhood however still teems with living traditions of the heroes;\nand the people all round the hill tell many stories of Finn and the\nFena, and point out the several spots they frequented. As in the case of\nthe Red Branch Knights, there were Fena in all the provinces, each\nprovincial troop under a leader. The Fena of Erin flourished for many\ngenerations; but they reached their greatest glory under Finn in the\ntime of Cormac Mac Art, who was king of Ireland from A.D. 254 to 277.\n\nNo man was admitted to their ranks till he had proved his strength and\nactivity by passing severe tests in leaping, running, and defending\nhimself from attack against great odds. They should be educated in the\nsort of learning in vogue at the time, and especially they should be\nable to repeat many verses and stories recounting the great deeds of the\ntimes of old, so that they might learn to admire all that was brave and\nnoble, and that in time of peace they might be bright and entertaining\nat banquets and other festive gatherings. They were all mighty men in\nfight, brave, and strong, and swift of foot: and they were above all\nthings bound to be honourable and truthful in their dealings, and to\nprotect the weak--particularly women and children--from oppression and\nwrong.\n\nThe Fena loved open-air games and exercises of all kinds, especially the\nchase. They had a breed of enormous dogs of which they were very fond,\ngentle and affectionate at home, but fierce and terrible in the chase;\nand from Beltane (1st of May) to Samin (1st November) they hunted deer,\nwild boars, and other game through the forests, and over the hills,\nglens, and plains. Though the chief men among them rode on horseback\nwhen travelling long distances from one district to another, they always\nhunted on foot, never using horses in the chase. During hunting time\nthey camped out at night, living on the flesh of the animals they\nbrought down and on the wild fruit and herbs of the forest.\n\nAt midday, whatever game they had killed during the morning they sent by\ntheir attendants to the place appointed for the evening meal, which was\nalways chosen near a wood and beside a stream or lake. The attendants\nroasted one part on hazel spits before immense fires of wood, and baked\nthe rest on hot stones in a pit dug in the earth. The stones were heated\nin the fires. At the bottom of the pit the men placed a layer of these\nhot stones: then a layer of meat-joints wrapped in sedge to keep them\nfrom being burned: next another layer of hot stones: down on that more\nmeat; and so on till the whole was disposed of. When the hunters\nreturned, their first care was to bathe, so as to remove the sweat and\nmire of the chase. Then they attended to their hair: for they wore the\nhair long, and were very particular about combing, dressing, and\nplaiting it. By the time their preparations were completed, the meat was\nready: and the hungry hunters sat down to their smoking-hot savoury\nmeal.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish ornamented comb in the National Museum,\nDublin.]\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish gold earring, one of a pair found in Co.\nRoscommon]\n\nAfter the meal they set up their tents, and each man prepared his bed.\nHe first put down a thick layer of brushwood from the surrounding\nforest; on that he spread a quantity of moss; and on that again a layer\nof fresh rushes, on which he slept soundly after his day of joyous,\nhealthful toil. In the old tales these three materials--brushwood, moss,\nand rushes--are called the \"Three beddings of the Fena.\"[95-1]\n\n [95-1] The above account of how the Fena hunted, cooked, ate, and\n slept is from Keating, who took it from old Irish books.\n\nThe Fena were in the service of the kings, and their main duties were to\nuphold justice and put down oppression and wrong, to suppress robbers\nand other evil-doers, to exact fines and tributes for the king, and to\nguard the harbours of the country against pirates and invaders. For\nthese services they received a fixed pay: during the six months hunting\nseason, their pay was merely the animals they killed, of which they used\nthe flesh for food and sold the skins.\n\nAn Irish poet of our day has written of the Milesian people in general,\nincluding those Fena of Erin and the Red Branch Knights:--\n\n\n \"Long, long ago, beyond the misty space\n Of twice a thousand years,\n In Erin old there dwelt a mighty race\n Taller than Roman spears;\n Like oaks and towers they had a giant grace,\n Were fleet as deers,\n With winds and wave they made their biding place,\n Those western shepherd seers.\n\n Great were their deeds, their passions, and their sports.\n With clay and stone,\n They piled on strath and shore those mystic forts,\n Not yet o'erthrown:\n On cairn-crowned hills they held their council-courts;\n While youths alone,\n With giant dogs explored the elk resorts\n And brought them down.\"\n\n\n[Illustration: Cairn, on Carns Hill near Sligo: a \"cairn-crowned hill.\"]\n\nIn many modern stories, Finn is spoken of as a giant; but this is a\nvulgar notion. The old romantic tales describe him as a tall, strong\nman, though not a giant; with much keen wit, sound sense, and great\njudgment: and though he was a mighty champion, he ruled his men more by\nwisdom, kindness, and justice, than by strength. When quite a young man\nhis hair became white like silver: how this happened will be told in the\nnext story. Oisin [Isheen] or Ossian, the renowned hero-poet of the\nFena, was his son. Oscar the son of Ossian was youthful, comely,\nkind-hearted, and valiant. Dermot O'Dyna was the handsomest of all these\nheroes. He was unconquerably brave, of untarnished honour, generous, and\nself-denying, ever ready to take the post of danger, always giving\ncredit to others, and never in the least boasting of his own deeds. He\nis the finest character of all the Fena; and it would be hard to find\nhis equal in the ancient tales of any country. We have a vast number of\nbeautiful stories in the Irish language about Finn and the other heroes\nof the Fena, a few of which are translated in this book.\n\n\n\n\nXXII.\n\nTHE CHASE OF SLIEVE CULLINN.\n\nIN WHICH OSSIAN RELATES HOW FINN'S HAIR WAS CHANGED IN ONE DAY FROM THE\nCOLOUR OF GOLD TO SILVERY GREY.\n\n\nOn a morning in summer, Finn happened to be walking alone on the lawn\nbefore the palace of Allen, when a doe sprang out from a thicket, and,\npassing quite close to him, bounded past like the wind. Without a\nmoment's delay, he signalled for his companions and dogs; but none heard\nexcept his two hounds, Bran and Skolan. He instantly gave chase,\naccompanied only by his two dogs; and before the Fena knew of his\nabsence, he had left Allen of the green slopes far behind.\n\nThe chase turned northwards; and though the hounds kept close to the\ndoe, the chief kept quite as close to the hounds the whole way. And so\nthey continued without rest or pause, till they reached Slieve Cullinn,\nfar in the north.\n\nHere the doe made a sudden turn and disappeared; and Finn never caught\nsight of her after. And he marvelled much that any doe in the world\nshould be able to lead Bran and Skolan so long a chase, and escape from\nthem in the end. Meantime they kept searching, Finn taking one side of\nthe hill and the dogs another, so that he was at last left quite alone.\n\nWhile he was wandering about the hill and whistling for his hounds, he\nheard the plaintive cry of a woman at no great distance; and, turning\nhis steps towards the place, he saw a beautiful young lady sitting on\nthe brink of a little lake, weeping as if her heart would break. Finn\naccosted her; and, seeing that she ceased her weeping for a moment, he\nasked her had she seen his two hounds pass that way.\n\n\"I have not seen thy hounds,\" she replied, \"nor have I been at all\nconcerned in the chase; for, alas, there is something that troubles me\nmore nearly. I had a precious gold bracelet on my hand, which I prized\nbeyond anything in the world; and it has fallen from me into the water.\nI saw it roll down the steep slope at the bottom, till it went quite out\nof my sight. This is the cause of my sorrow, and thou canst remedy the\nmishap if thou wilt. The Fena are sworn never to refuse help to a woman\nin distress; and I now put it on thee to search for this bracelet, and\ncease not till thou find it and restore it to me.\"\n\nFinn plunged in without a moment's hesitation; and after swimming three\ntimes round the lake, diving and searching into every nook and cranny at\nthe bottom, he found the bracelet at last; and approaching the lady, he\nhanded it to her from the water. The moment she had got it she sprang\ninto the lake before his eyes, and, diving down, disappeared in an\ninstant.\n\n[Illustration: Irish bracelet or armlet of solid gold, now in the\nNational Museum, Dublin. It is double the size of the picture, of\nbeautiful shape and workmanship, and weighs 3-3/4 oz.]\n\nThe chief, wondering greatly at this strange behaviour, stepped forth\nfrom the water; but as soon as his feet had touched the dry land, he\nlost all his strength, and fell on the brink, a withered, grey old man,\nshrunken up and trembling all over with weakness. He sat him down in\nwoful plight; and soon his hounds came up. They looked at him wistfully\nand sniffed and whined around him; but they knew him not, and, passing\non, they ran round the lake, searching in vain for their master.\n\nOn that day we and the Fena in general were assembled in the banquet\nhall of the palace of Allen; some feasting, some playing chess, and\nothers listening to the sweet music of the harpers. While all were in\nthis wise pleasantly engaged, we suddenly missed our chief, and when we\nsearched for him he was nowhere to be found: whereupon we became\nalarmed. Inquiring now from the lesser people about the palace, we found\nthat the chief and his two dogs had chased a doe northwards. So, having\nmustered a strong party of the Fena, we started in pursuit, and\nfollowing the track, never slackened speed till we reached Slieve\nCullinn.\n\nWe began to search round the hill, and after wandering among brakes and\nrough, rocky places, we at last espied a grey-headed old man sitting on\nthe brink of a lake. I went up to him, followed by the rest of the Fena,\nand asked him if he had seen a noble-looking hero pass that way, with\ntwo hounds, chasing a doe. He never answered a word, neither did he stir\nfrom where he sat, or even look up; but at the question, his head sank\non his breast, and his limbs shook all over as with palsy. Then he fell\ninto a sudden fit of grief, wringing his hands and uttering feeble cries\nof woe.\n\nWe soothed him and used him gently, hoping he might speak at last; but\nto no purpose, for he only lamented the more, and still answered\nnothing.\n\nAt last, after this had gone on for some time, and when we were about\nto leave him, he told us in a whisper the dreadful secret; and then we\nall came to know the truth. When we found that the withered old man was\nno other than our beloved king, Finn himself, we uttered three shouts of\nlamentation and anger, so loud and prolonged that the foxes and badgers\nrushed affrighted from their dens in the hollows of the mountain.\n\nWhen quietness was restored, we asked Finn how this dread evil had\nbefallen him; and he told us that it was the daughter of Culann the\nsmith who had transformed him by her spells. And then he recounted how\nshe had lured him to swim in the lake, and how, when he came forth, he\nwas turned into a withered old man.\n\nWe now made a framework litter of slender poles, and, placing our king\non it, we lifted him tenderly on our shoulders. And, turning from the\nlake, we marched slowly up-hill till we came to the fairy palace of\nSlieve Cullinn, where we knew the daughter of Culann had her dwelling\ndeep under ground. Here we set him down, and the whole troop began at\nonce to dig, determined to find the enchantress in her cave-palace, and\nforce her to restore our chief.\n\nFor three days and three nights we dug, without a moment's rest or\npause, till at length we reached her hollow dwelling; when she,\naffrighted at the tumult and at the vengeful look of the heroes,\nsuddenly started forth from the cave and stood before us. She held in\nher hand a drinking-horn of red gold, which she handed to the king and\ntold him to drink. No sooner had he drunk from it, than his own shape\nand features returned, save only that his hair remained of a silvery\ngrey.\n\nWhen we gazed on our chief in his own graceful and manly form, we were\nall pleased with the soft, silvery hue of the grey hairs. And, though\nthe enchantress appeared ready to restore this also, Finn himself told\nher that it pleased him as it pleased the others, and that he chose to\nremain grey for the rest of his life.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish bracelet for the wrist. This is of bronze;\nbut many Irish bracelets were of gold, like that shown at page 100.]\n\n\n\n\nXXIII.\n\nSAINT BRIGIT: PART I.\n\n\nOf all the Irish saints, Brigit and Columkille are, next after St.\nPatrick, the most loved and revered by the people of Ireland.\n\nLike many others of our early saints, Brigit came of a noble family. Her\nfather Dubthach [Duffa] was a distinguished Leinster chief, descended\nfrom the kings of Ireland. For some reason, which we do not know, he and\nhis wife lived for a time in Faughart near Dundalk, which was then a\npart of Ulster: and at Faughart Brigit was born about the year 455. The\nfamily must have soon returned however to their own district, for we\nknow that Brigit passed her childhood with her parents in the\nneighbourhood of Kildare. She was baptised, and carefully instructed and\ntrained, both in general education and in religion: for her father and\nmother were Christians. As she grew up, her quiet, gentle, modest ways\npleased all that knew her. At the time of her birth, St. Patrick was in\nthe midst of his glorious career; and some say that while she was still\na child she knew him, and that when he died she made with her own hands\na winding sheet in which his body was laid in the grave; which may have\nhappened, as she was ten or twelve years of age at the time of his\ndeath.\n\nWhen Brigit came of an age to choose her way of life, she resolved to be\na nun, to which her parents made no objection. After due preparation she\nwent to a holy bishop of the neighbourhood, who, at her request,\nreceived her, and placed a white robe on her shoulders and a white veil\nover her head. Here she remained for some time in companionship with\neight other maidens who had been received with her, and who placed\nthemselves under her guidance. As time went on, she became so beloved\nfor her piety and sweetness of disposition, that many young women asked\nto be admitted; so that though she by no means desired that people\nshould be speaking in her praise, the fame of her little community began\nto spread through the country.\n\nThis first establishment was conducted strictly under a set of Rules\ndrawn up by Brigit herself: and now, bishops in various parts of Ireland\nbegan to apply to her to establish convents in their several districts\nunder the same rules. She was glad of this, and she did what she could\nto meet their wishes. She visited Longford, Tipperary, Limerick, South\nLeinster, and Roscommon, one after another; and in all these places she\nfounded convents.\n\nAt last the people of her own province of Leinster, considering that\nthey had the best right to her services, sent a number of leading\npersons to request that she would fix her permanent residence among\nthem. She was probably pleased to go back to live in the place where she\nhad spent her childhood; and she returned to Leinster, where she was\nwelcomed with great joy. The Leinster people gave her a piece of land\nchosen by herself, on the edge of a beautiful level grassy plain, well\nknown as the Curragh of Kildare. Here, on a low ridge over-looking the\nplain, she built a little church, under the shade of a wide-spreading\noak tree, whence it got the name of Kill-dara, the Church of the Oak, or\nas we now call it, Kildare. This tree continued to flourish long after\nBrigit's death, and it was regarded with great veneration by the people\nof the place. A writer of the tenth century--four hundred years after\nthe foundation of the church--tells us that in his time it was a mere\nbranchless, withered trunk; but the people had such reverence for it\nthat no one dared to cut or chip it.\n\nWe are not quite sure of the exact year of Brigit's settlement here; but\nit probably occurred about 485, when she was thirty years of age. Hard\nby the church she also built a dwelling for herself and her community.\nWe are told, in the Irish Life of St. Brigit, that this first house was\nbuilt of wood, like the houses of the people in general: and the little\nchurch under the oak was probably of wood also, like most churches of\nthe time. As the number of applicants for admission continued to\nincrease, both church and dwelling had to be enlarged from time to time;\nand the wood was replaced by stone and mortar. Such was the respect in\nwhich the good abbess was held, that visitors came from all parts of the\ncountry to see her and ask her advice and blessing: and many of them\nsettled down in the place, so that a town gradually grew up near the\nconvent, which was the beginning of the town of Kildare.\n\n\n\n\nXXIV.\n\nSAINT BRIGIT: PART II.\n\n\nBrigit, although now at the head of a great community, and very strict\nin carrying out her Rules, still retained all her humility and\ngentleness of disposition. With such a large family, there was plenty of\nwork to do; and it was all done by the nuns, as they kept no servants\nand called in no outsiders. The abbess herself, so far as she was able\nto withdraw from the cares of governing the establishment, took her part\nlike the rest in most of the domestic occupations. In some of the old\naccounts of her life we are told that she often, with some companions,\nherded and tended her flocks of sheep that grazed on the level sward\nround the convent. And sometimes she was caught by the heavy\nrain-squalls that occasionally sweep across that shelterless plain, so\nthat her clothes were wet through by the time she returned to the\nconvent: showing that she took her own share of the rough work.\n\nNot far from the convent, another establishment was founded, later on,\nfor men, which afterwards became one of the great Colleges of Ireland.\nAs the two communities and the population of the town continued to grow,\nit was Brigit's earnest desire that a bishop should be there to take\nspiritual charge of the whole place. A holy man named Conleth, who had\nhitherto spent his life as a hermit in the neighbourhood, was appointed\nbishop by the heads of the Church. He was the first bishop of Kildare,\nand he took up his residence in the monastery. The name of that good\nbishop is to this day held in affectionate remembrance, with that of St.\nBrigit, by the people of Kildare and of the country all round.\n\n[Illustration: Ruins of Kilcrea Abbey, on the river Bride, ten miles\nfrom Cork city. Built in honour of St. Brigit.]\n\nWhile the parent convent at Kildare continued to grow, branch houses\nunder Brigit's Rule, and subject to her authority, were established all\nover Ireland; and many establishments for monks were also founded in\nhonour of her.\n\nBrigit had such a reputation for wisdom and prudence, that the most\neminent of the saints, and many kings and chiefs of her day, visited\nKildare or corresponded with her, to obtain her advice in doubtful or\ndifficult matters. Visitors were constantly coming and going, all of\nwhom she received kindly and treated hospitably. All this, with daily\nalms to the needy, and the support of a large community, kept her poor:\nfor the produce of her land was not nearly sufficient to supply her\nwants. For a long time in the beginning she and her community suffered\nfrom downright poverty, so that she had often to call on the charity of\nher friends and neighbours to assist her. But as time went on, and as\nthe reputation of the place spread abroad, she received many presents\nfrom rich people, which generally came in the right time, and enabled\nher to carry on her establishment without any danger of want.\n\nAmong Brigit's virtues none is more marked than her charity and kindness\nof heart towards poor, needy, and helpless people. She never could look\non distress of any kind without trying to relieve it at whatever cost.\nEven when a mere girl living with her parents, her father was often\ndispleased with her for giving away necessary things belonging to the\nhouse to poor people who came in their misery to beg from her. It\nhappened on one occasion that her father drove her in his chariot to\nNaas (in Kildare), where then lived Dunlang king of Leinster; and\ndismounting, he entered the palace, leaving his sword behind--a\nbeautiful and valuable one--while Brigit remained in charge of horse and\nchariot. A wretched looking poor man with sickness and want in his face\ncame up and begged for some relief. Overcome with pity she looked about\nfor something to give him, and finding nothing but the sword, she handed\nit to him. On her father's return he fell into a passion at the loss of\nhis sword: and when King Dunlang questioned her reproachfully, she\nreplied:--\"If I had all thy wealth I would give it to the poor; for\ngiving to the poor is giving to the Lord of the Universe.\" And the king\nturning to the father said:--\"It is not meet that either you or I should\nchide this maiden, for her merit is greater before God than before men\":\non which the matter ended: and Brigit returned home with her father.\n\nHer overflowing kindness of heart was not confined to human beings: it\nextended even to the lower animals. Once while she lived in her father's\nhouse, a party of guests were invited, and she was given some pieces of\nmeat to cook for dinner. And a poor miserable half-starved hound limped\ninto the house and looked longingly at the meat: whereupon the girl,\nquite unable to overcome her feeling of pity, threw him one of the\npieces. And when the poor animal, in his hungry greediness, had\ndevoured that in a moment, she gave him another, which satisfied him.\nAnd to the last day of her life she retained her tenderness of heart and\nher kindness and charity towards the poor.\n\n\n\n\nXXV.\n\nSAINT BRIGIT: PART III.\n\n\nLate in life Brigit's influence over young people was unbounded: for her\nvery gentleness gave tenfold power to her words. Once, seeing a young\nman, a student of the neighbouring college, running very violently and\nin an unbecoming manner, in presence of some of her nuns, she sent for\nhim on the spot and asked him why he was running in such haste. He\nreplied thoughtlessly, and half in jest, that he was running to heaven:\non which she said quietly: \"I wish to God, my dear son, that I was\nworthy to run with you to-day to the same place: I beg you will pray for\nme to help me to arrive there.\" And when he heard these words, and\nlooked on her grave kind face, he was greatly moved; and telling her\nwith tears in his eyes, that he would surely pray for her and for many\nothers besides, he besought her to offer up her prayers for him, that he\nmight continue his journey steadily towards heaven, and arrive there in\nthe end. That young man, whose name was Ninnius, became in after-life\none of the most revered of the Irish saints.\n\nBut with all her gentle unassuming ways, St. Brigit was a woman of\nstrong mind and great talents. She not only governed her various\nestablishments in strict accordance with her own Rules and forms of\ndiscipline, but she was a powerful aid in forwarding the mighty\nreligious movement that had been commenced by St. Patrick half a century\nbefore. She set an illustrious example to those Irish women who, during\nand after her time, entered on a religious life; and though many of them\nbecame distinguished saints, she stands far above them all. No writer\nhas left us a detailed account of her last hours, as Adamnan has done\nfor St. Columkille. (See page 150, note, farther on.) We only know that\nshe died at Kildare on the first of February, in or about the year 523,\nand that she received the last consolations of religion from the\ngrateful hand of that same Ninnius whom she had turned to a religious\nlife many years before.\n\nShe was buried in Kildare, where her body was entombed in a magnificent\nshrine, ornamented with gold, silver, and precious stones. We may be\nsure it was a very beautiful work of art, for we know that there was a\nnoted school of metal workers in Kildare under the direction of St.\nConleth, who was himself a most skilful artist; but this tomb was\nplundered by the Danes three hundred years afterwards, and not a trace\nof it now remains.\n\nAccording to some accounts, the bones of St. Brigit and St. Columkille\nwere brought to Downpatrick many centuries after the death of both, and\nburied in the same tomb with the remains of St. Patrick. Whether this\nwas so or not, the matter has been commemorated in a Latin verse, of\nwhich the following is a translation:--\n\n\n \"Interred beneath one tomb in Down, a single vault doth hold\n Patrick and Brigit and Columkille, three holy saints of old.\"\n\n\nA well known Welshman, Gerald Barry (Giraldus Cambrensis), who was in\nIreland in 1185, and who wrote an account of it, says that he found \"at\nKildare in Leinster, celebrated for the glorious Brigit, the 'Fire of\nSt. Brigit' which is reported never to go out.\" This fire was kept up\nday and night by the nuns in his time, and for centuries before--how\nlong no one can tell--probably from the time of the saint herself--and\nwas continued for centuries after: but it was finally extinguished when\nthe monasteries were closed up by Henry VIII. in the year 1536. Thomas\nMoore, in one of his songs, refers to it in the following words:--\n\n \"Like the bright lamp that shone in Kildare's holy fane,\n And burned through long ages of darkness and storm.\"\n\nSt. Brigit is venerated in England and Scotland as well as in Ireland:\nfor in both these countries churches were built in her honour, and many\nconvents were established under her name and rule. She was also well\nknown and honoured on the Continent. We need not wonder that her life\nhas been written by many Irishmen: but English, Scotch, French, Italian,\nand German writers have also written about her and have commemorated her\nas one of the most eminent saints of the West.\n\nConvents and monasteries were maintained in Kildare for hundreds of\nyears after the time of St. Brigit; and \"Kildare's holy fane\" is still\nvenerated as much as ever. On the very ridge where the humble little\nchurch was erected fourteen hundred years ago, there is a group of fine\nold church buildings, with a tall round tower that overlooks the\nsplendid plain of Kildare.\n\n\n\n\nXXVI.\n\nIRISH SCRIBES AND BOOKS.\n\n\nIn old times all books were handwritten, printing being a late\ninvention. There were persons called Scribes, many of whom made writing\nthe chief business of their lives. From constant practice they became\nvery expert; and the penmanship of many of them was extremely beautiful\nand highly ornamented, much more so than any writing executed by the\nvery best penmen of the present day.\n\nIn Ireland, most of these scribes were monks, inmates of monasteries;\nbut many were laymen. These good and industrious men wrote into their\nbooks all the learning of every kind that they could collect; so that\nalthough the work of writing was slow, the numbers of books rapidly\nincreased; and very large libraries grew up, especially in the\nmonasteries. The leaves of these books were not paper like those of our\nbooks, but parchment or vellum, which was generally made from sheepskin,\nbut often from the skins of other animals.\n\nSometimes the scribes wrote down what had never been written before,\nthat is, matters composed at the time, or preserved in memory: but more\ncommonly they copied from other volumes. If an old book began to be\nworn, ragged, or dim with age, so as to be hard to make out and read,\nsome scribe was sure to copy it, so as to have a new book easy to read\nand well bound up. Most of the books written out in this manner related\nto Ireland, as will be described presently; and the language of these\nwas almost always Irish. For in those times the Irish language was\nspoken by all the people of Ireland.\n\nA favourite occupation was copying portions of the Holy Scriptures,\nnearly always in the Latin language; and in this good work some monks\nspent nearly all their time, in order to multiply copies of the sacred\nbooks. Some of the greatest saints of the ancient Irish Church employed\nthemselves in copying the Gospels and other portions of the Bible,\nwhenever they could get the opportunity, as we shall see in the case of\nSt. Columkille.\n\nCopies of the Scriptures, and also prayer books, were generally\nornamented in the most beautiful way: for those accomplished and devoted\nold scribes loved to beautify the sacred writings. Many of the lovely\nbooks they wrote are still preserved, of which the most splendid is the\nBook of Kells, now kept in the Library of Trinity College, in Dublin. It\nis a copy of the Four Gospels, and the language is Latin, though the\nletters are Irish. It was written by an Irish scribe eleven or twelve\nhundred years ago, but who he was is not known.\n\nThere is no old book in any part of the world so skilfully ornamented as\nthis. The capital letters are very large--one of them fills an entire\npage--and are all illuminated, that is, painted in brilliant colours;\nand after the lapse of so many centuries the colours are still very\nfresh, though not so bright as when they were first laid on.\n\nIn this Book of Kells, and in others like it, the capitals are\nornamented in every part with a kind of interlaced work, all done with\nthe pen, in which bands and ribbons are curved and plaited and woven in\nthe most wonderful way. These plaits and folds are so small and so close\ntogether that one must sometimes use a magnifying glass in order to see\nthem plainly: in one space, the size of a half penny, in a page of a\nsplendid old volume, called the Book of Armagh, the ribbons appear woven\nin and out more than three hundred times.\n\nA specimen of this interwoven ornamental work is seen at the head of the\nfirst page of this book; but it gives only a poor idea of the beauty of\nthe Book of Kells. The frontispiece of the \"Child's History of Ireland\"\nis a perfect copy, in full colours, of a complete page of the Book of\nMac Durnan, which is almost as beautiful as the Book of Kells. The Irish\nused this sort of ornamentation also in metal-work and stone-work, of\nwhich an example is given here.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish Ornamental Sculpture on a Stone Monument.]\n\nVery often, large volumes were kept, into which were written\ncompositions of all kinds, both prose and poetry, such as were thought\nworth preserving, copied from older books, and written in, one after\nanother, till the volume was filled. Of all these old books of mixed\ncompositions, the largest that remains to us is the Book of Leinster,\nwhich is kept in Trinity College in Dublin. It is an immense volume, all\nin the Irish language, written more than 750 years ago; and many of the\npages are now almost black with age and very hard to make out. It\ncontains a great number of pieces, some in prose and some in verse, and\nnearly all of them about Ireland--histories, accounts of battles and\nsieges, lives and adventures of great men, with many tales and stories\nof things that happened in this country in far distant ages.\n\nThe Book of the Dun Cow is preserved in the Royal Irish Academy in\nDublin. It is fifty years older than the Book of Leinster, but not so\nlarge; and it contains also a great number of tales, adventures, and\nhistories, nearly all relating to Ireland, and all written in the Irish\nlanguage. Its name was derived from the following circumstance:--St.\nKieran of Clonmacnoise had a favourite brown cow, whose skin, when she\ndied, he caused to be turned into parchment, of which a book was made.\nBut this old book no longer exists: it was lost ages ago; and the\npresent \"Book of the Dun Cow\" is only a copy of it.\n\nThree other great Irish books kept in Dublin are the Book of Lecan\n[Leckan], the Yellow Book of Lecan, and the Book of Ballymote. These\ncontain much the same kind of matter as the Book of Leinster--with\npieces mostly different however--but they are not nearly so old. The\nSpeckled Book, which is also in Dublin, is nearly as large as the Book\nof Leinster, but not so old. It is mostly on religious matters, and\ncontains a great number of Lives of Saints, Hymns, Sermons, portions of\nthe Scriptures, and other such pieces. All these books are written with\nthe greatest care, and in most beautiful penmanship.\n\nThe six old books described above have been lately printed, in such a\nway as that the print resembles exactly the writing of the old books\nthemselves. The printed volumes are now to be found in libraries in\nseveral parts of Ireland, as well as in England and the Continent; so\nthat those desirous of studying them need not come to Dublin, as people\nhad to do formerly.\n\nMany people are now eagerly studying these books and men often come to\nIreland from France, Germany, Italy, Norway and Sweden, Russia, and\nother countries, in order to learn the Irish language so as to be able\nto read them. But this requires much study, even from those who know the\nIrish of the present day; for the language of those books is old and\ndifficult.\n\nIn many National and Intermediate schools the Irish language is now\ntaught, and no doubt some of the pupils who attend the Irish classes\nwill continue their studies after they leave school, till they come to\nbe able to read our old books.\n\nA great many old Irish tales and histories have been printed and\ntranslated, and some of them are very beautiful and instructive. Several\nof the stories in this book are from the Book of the Dun Cow and the\nBook of Leinster.\n\n\n\n\nXXVII.\n\nTHE GILLA DACKER AND HIS HORSE.[120-1]\n\n\nOnce upon a time, when Finn and the Fena were hunting over Munster, Finn\nand some of his companions encamped on the slope of Knockainey\nhill[120-2] to rest for awhile. And they sent Finn Mac Bressal to the\ntop of the hill to keep watch and ward, while they amused themselves,\nsome playing chess, and some viewing the chase all round and listening\nto the sweet cry of the hounds.\n\n [120-1] \"The Pursuit of the Gilla Dacker and his horse\" is a\n humorous story, of which only a few incidents are given\n here. The Gilla Dacker was really Mannanan Mac Lir, the\n Pagan Irish sea-god, who came in disguise to play a\n trick--a sort of practical joke--on the Fena. The whole\n story is given in \"Old Celtic Romances.\"\n\n [120-2] Knockainey: a hill celebrated in story, rising over the\n village of Knockainey, in the Co. Limerick.\n\nFinn Mac Bressal had been watching only a little time, when he saw on\nthe plain to the east, a Fomor[121-1] of vast size coming towards the\nhill, leading a horse. As he came nearer, Finn Mac Bressal observed that\nhe was the ugliest-looking giant his eyes ever lighted on. He had a\nlarge, thick body, bloated and swollen out to a great size; clumsy,\ncrooked legs; and broad, flat feet, turned inwards. His hands and arms\nand shoulders were bony and thick and very strong-looking; his neck was\nlong and thin; and while his head was poked forward, his face was turned\nup, as he stared straight at Finn Mac Bressal. He had thick lips, and\nlong crooked teeth; and his face was covered all over with bushy hair.\n\n [121-1] Fomor, a gigantic warrior, a giant: its real meaning is \"a\n sea-robber,\" commonly called a Fomorian.\n\nHe was fully armed; but all his weapons were rusty and soiled. A broad\nshield of a dirty, sooty colour, rough and battered, hung over his back;\nhe had a long, heavy, straight sword at his left hip; and he grasped in\nhis left hand two thick-handled, broad-headed spears, old and rusty,\nthat looked as if they had not been handled for years. In his right hand\nhe held an iron club, which he dragged after him, with its end on the\nground; and it was so heavy that, as it trailed along, it tore up a\ntrack as deep as the furrow a farmer ploughs with a pair of oxen.\n\nThe horse he led was even larger in proportion than the giant himself,\nand quite as ugly. His great carcase was covered all over with tangled,\nscraggy-hair, of a sooty black; you could count his ribs and all the\npoints of his big bones through his hide; his legs were crooked and\nknotty; his neck was twisted; and as for his jaws, they were so long and\nheavy that they made his head look twice too big for his body.\n\nThe giant held the horse by a thick halter, and seemed to be dragging\nhim forward by main force, the animal was so lazy and so hard to move.\nEvery now and then when the beast tried to stand still, the giant would\ngive him a blow on the ribs with his big iron club, which sounded as\nloud as the thundering of a great billow against the rough-headed rocks\nof the coast. When he gave him a pull forward by the halter, the wonder\nwas that he did not drag the animal's head away from his body; and, on\nthe other hand, the horse often gave the halter such a tremendous tug\nbackwards that it was equally wonderful how the arm of the giant was not\ntorn from his shoulder.\n\nNow it was not an easy matter to frighten Finn Mac Bressal; but when he\nsaw the giant and his horse coming straight towards him in that wise, he\nwas seized with such fear and horror that he sprang from his seat, and,\nsnatching up his arms, he ran down the hill-slope with the utmost speed\ntowards the king and his companions, whom he found sitting round the\nchess-board, deep in their game.\n\nThey started up when they saw him looking so scared; and, turning their\neyes towards where he pointed, they saw the big man and his horse coming\nup the hill. The Fena stood gazing at him in silent wonder, waiting till\nhe should arrive; but although he was no great way off when they first\ncaught sight of him, it was a long time before he reached the spot where\nthey stood, so slow was the movement of his horse and himself.\n\n\n\n\nXXVIII.\n\nTHE FENA CARRIED OFF BY THE GILLA DACKER'S HORSE.\n\n\nPatiently and in silence the Fena stood till the giant came up; when he\nbowed his head, and bended his knee, and saluted the king with great\nrespect.\n\nFinn addressed him; and having given him leave to speak, he asked who he\nwas, and what was his name; also what was his profession or craft, and\nwhy he had no servant to attend to his horse--if, indeed, such an ugly\nold spectre of an animal could be called a horse at all.\n\nThe big man made answer and said, \"King of the Fena, I will answer\neverything you ask me, as far as lies in my power. As to where I came\nfrom, I am a Fomor of the north; but I have no particular\ndwelling-place, for I am continually travelling about from one country\nto another, serving the great lords and nobles of the world, and\nreceiving wages for my service.\n\n\"In the course of my wanderings I have often heard of you, O king, and\nof your greatness and splendour and royal bounty; and I have come now to\nvisit you, and to ask you to take me into your service for one year; and\nat the end of that time I shall fix my own wages, according to my\ncustom.\n\n\"You ask me also why I have no servant for this great horse of mine. The\nreason of that is this: at every meal I eat, my master must give me as\nmuch food and drink as would be enough for a hundred men; and whosoever\nthe lord or chief may be that takes me into his service, it is quite\nenough for him to have to provide for me, without having also to feed my\nservant.\n\n\"Moreover, I am so very heavy and lazy that I should never be able to\nkeep up with a company on march if I had to walk; and this is my reason\nfor keeping a horse at all.\n\n\"My name is the Gilla Dacker,[124-1] and it is not without good reason\nthat I am so called. For there never was a lazier or worse servant than\nI am, or one that grumbles more at doing a day's work for his master.\nAnd I am the hardest person in the whole world to deal with; for, no\nmatter how good or noble I may think my master, or how kindly he may\ntreat me, it is hard words and foul reproaches I am likely to give him\nfor thanks in the end.\n\n [124-1] Gilla Dacker means \"a slothful fellow\"--a fellow hard to\n move, hard to manage, hard to have anything to do with.\n\n\"This, O Finn, is the account I have to give of myself, and these are my\nanswers to your questions.\"\n\n\"Well,\" answered Finn, \"according to your own account, you are not a\nvery pleasant fellow to have anything to do with; and of a truth there\nis not much to praise in your appearance. But things may not be so bad\nas you say; and, anyhow, as I have never yet refused any man service and\nwages, I will not now refuse you.\"\n\nWhereupon the Gilla Dacker was taken into service among the warriors for\na year.\n\nThen the big man said:--\"Now, as to this horse of mine, I find I must\nattend to him myself, as I see no one here worthy of putting a hand near\nhim. So I will lead him to the nearest stud, as I am wont to do, and let\nhim graze among your horses. I value him greatly, however, and it would\ngrieve me very much if any harm were to befal him; so,\" continued he,\nturning to the king, \"I put him under your protection, O king, and under\nthe protection of all the Fena that are here present.\"\n\nAt this speech the Fena all burst out laughing, to see the Gilla Dacker\nshowing such concern for his miserable, worthless, old skeleton of a\nhorse.\n\nHowbeit, the big man, giving not the least heed to their merriment, took\nthe halter off the horse's head, and turned him loose among the horses\nof the Fena.\n\nBut now, this same wretched-looking old animal, instead of beginning to\ngraze, as every one thought he would, ran in among the horses of the\nFena, and began straightway to work all sorts of mischief. He cocked his\nlong, hard, switchy tail straight out like a rod, and, throwing up his\nhind legs, he kicked about on this side and on that, maiming and\ndisabling several of the horses. Sometimes he went tearing through the\nthickest of the herd, butting at them with his hard, bony forehead; and\nhe opened out his lips with a vicious grin, and tore all he could lay\nhold on, with his sharp, crooked teeth, so that none were safe that came\nin his way either before or behind. And the end of it was, that not an\nanimal of the whole herd escaped, without having a leg broken, or an eye\nknocked out, or his ribs fractured, or his ear bitten off, or the side\nof his face torn open, or without being in some other way cut or maimed\nbeyond cure.\n\nAt last he left them, and was making straight for a small field where\nConan Mail's horses were grazing by themselves, intending to play the\nsame tricks among them. But Conan, seeing this, shouted in great alarm\nto the Gilla Dacker, to bring away his horse, and not let him work any\nmore mischief; and threatening, if he did not do so at once, to go\nhimself and knock the brains out of the vicious old brute on the spot.\n\nBut the Gilla Dacker took the matter quite coolly; and he told Conan\nthat he saw no way of preventing his horse from joining the others,\nexcept some one put the halter on him and held him, which would, of\ncourse, he said, prevent the poor animal from grazing, and would leave\nhim hungry at the end of the day. \"But,\" said he to Conan, \"there is the\nhalter; and if you are in any fear for your own animals, you may go\nyourself and bring him away from the field.\"\n\nConan was in a mighty rage when he heard this; and as he saw the big\nhorse just about to cross the fence, he snatched up the halter, and\nrunning forward with long strides, he threw it over the animal's head\nand attempted to lead him back. But in a moment the horse stood stock\nstill, and his body and legs became as stiff as if they were made of\nwood; and though Conan pulled and tugged with might and main, he was not\nable to stir him an inch from his place.\n\nHe gave up pulling at last, when he found it was no use; but he still\nkept on holding the halter, while the big horse never made the least\nstir, but stood as if he had been turned into stone; the Gilla Dacker\nall the time looking on quite unconcernedly, and the others laughing at\nConan's perplexity. But no one offered to relieve him.\n\nAt last Conan jumped up on the horse, and tried to urge him on, but all\nto no purpose: for the animal never stirred. Another of the Fena now\nmounted behind him, and another, and another, till there were fourteen\nof them on the horse's back. Then the Gilla Dacker, suddenly tucking up\nhis skirts, darted away from the Fena, and ran south-west with the speed\nof a swallow flying across a mountain side, or of a March wind sweeping\nover the plain. When the horse saw his master running, he stirred\nhimself at once and followed him with equal speed, carrying off the\nwhole fourteen men, and plunging and tearing along as if he had nothing\nat all on his back.\n\nThe men now tried to throw themselves off; but this, indeed, they were\nnot able to do, for the good reason that they found themselves fastened\nfirmly, hands and feet and all, to the horse's back. Moreover they found\nthat their seat was not a comfortable one, for the old horse's backbone\nwas rough and scraggy, and nearly as sharp as a saw.\n\nAnd now Conan, looking round, raised his big voice, and shouted to Finn\nand the Fena, asking them were they content to let their friends be\ncarried off in that manner by such a horrible, foul-looking old spectre\nof a horse.\n\nFinn and the others, hearing this, instantly started off in pursuit, and\nfor miles on miles they kept the Gilla Dacker and the horse in view, but\nwere not able to overtake them. At last the horse and his master came to\nthe shore of the sea in the west of Kerry, and without stop or stay they\nplunged forward, moving over the waves the same as on the dry land: and\njust as the Fena arrived at the shore, they lost sight of them in the\ndistance.\n\n\n\n\nXXIX.\n\nDERMOT O'DYNA AT THE WELL.\n\n\nGreat was the astonishment of the Fena, and great their dismay, on\nseeing their comrades carried off in this manner on the back of the big\nhorse. And now they took counsel; and what they resolved on was, to send\nDermot O'Dyna and a party of the Fena in a ship to search for their\ncompanions. And Dermot and the others went on board, and sailed to the\nwest for many leagues, till they lost sight of the shores of Erin. At\nlength they came to an island with steep cliffs all round, so high that\nits head seemed hidden in the clouds: and they saw by the tracks, that\nup the face of this cliff the horse had made his way. And it was agreed\nthat Dermot O'Dyna should climb up and explore the island in quest of\ntheir comrades. Then Dermot put on his armour and his helmet, and took\nhis shield, his two spears, and his sword: and leaning on the handles of\nthe spears, he leaped with a light, airy bound on the nearest shelf of\nrock. Using his spears and his hands, he climbed from ledge to ledge,\nwhile his companions watched him anxiously from below; till, after much\ntoil, he measured the soles of his two feet on the green sod at the top\nof the rock. And when, recovering breath, he turned round and looked at\nhis companions in the ship far below, he started back with amazement and\ndread at the dizzy height.\n\nHe now looked inland, and saw a beautiful country spread out before\nhim:--a lovely, flowery plain straight in front, bordered with pleasant\nhills, and shaded with groves of many kinds of trees. It was enough to\nbanish all care and sadness from one's heart to view this country, and\nto listen to the warbling of the birds, the humming of the bees among\nthe flowers, the rustling of the wind through the trees, and the\npleasant voices of the streams and waterfalls.\n\nMaking no delay, Dermot set out to walk across the plain. He had not\nbeen long walking when he saw, right before him, a great tree laden with\nfruit, over-topping all the other trees of the plain. It was surrounded\nat a little distance by a circle of pillar-stones; and one stone, taller\nthan the others, stood in the centre near the tree. Beside this\npillar-stone was a spring well, with a large, round pool as clear as\ncrystal; and the water bubbled up in the centre, and flowed away towards\nthe middle of the plain in a slender stream.\n\nDermot was glad when he saw the well; for he was hot and thirsty after\nclimbing up the cliff. He stooped down to take a drink; but before his\nlips touched the water, he heard the heavy tread of a body of warriors,\nand the loud clank of arms, as if a whole host were coming straight down\non him. He sprang to his feet and looked round; but the noise ceased in\nan instant, and he could see nothing.\n\nAfter a little while he stooped once more to drink; and again, before he\nhad wet his lips, he heard the very same sounds, nearer and louder than\nbefore. A second time he leaped to his feet; and still he saw no one. He\nknew not what to think of this; and as he stood wondering and perplexed,\nhe happened to cast his eyes on the tall pillar-stone that stood on the\nbrink of the well; and he saw on its top a large, beautiful\ndrinking-horn,[131-1] chased with gold and enamelled with precious\nstones.\n\n [131-1] The ancient Irish used drinking vessels of various forms\n and with several names. A \"Drinking-horn\" (called a\n _corn_: pronounced _curn_) was usually made of a\n bullock's horn, hollowed out, cut into shape, and often\n highly ornamented with silver rim, precious stones,\n carvings, and other decorations. A beautiful\n drinking-horn will be found figured in the \"Child's\n History of Ireland,\" p. 26. Another kind of drinking\n vessel--the mether--has been already noticed here (page\n 17 above).\n\n\"Now surely,\" said Dermot, \"I have been doing wrong: it is, no doubt,\none of the virtues of this well that it will not let any one drink of\nits waters except from the drinking-horn.\"\n\nSo he took down the horn, dipped it into the well, and drank without\nhindrance, till he had slaked his thirst.\n\n\n\n\nXXX.\n\nDERMOT O'DYNA FIGHTS THE WIZARD-CHAMPION, AND AFTER A TIME RESCUES HIS\nCOMRADES.\n\n\nHardly had Dermot taken the horn from his lips, when he saw a tall\nwizard-champion coming towards him from the east, clad in a complete\nsuit of mail, and fully armed with shield and helmet, sword and spear. A\nbeautiful scarlet mantle hung over his armour, fastened at his throat by\na golden brooch; he had a gold torque round his neck; and a broad\ncirclet of sparkling gold was bended in front across his forehead, to\nconfine his yellow hair, and keep it from being blown about by the wind.\n\nAs he came nearer, he increased his pace, moving with great strides; and\nDermot now observed that he looked very wrathful. He offered no\ngreeting, and showed not the least courtesy; but addressed Dermot in a\nrough, angry voice--\n\n\"Surely, Dermot O'Dyna, Erin of the green plains should be wide enough\nfor you; and it contains abundance of clear, sweet water in its crystal\nsprings and green bordered streams, from which you might have drunk your\nfill. But you have come into my island without my leave, and you have\ntaken my drinking-horn, and have drunk from my well; and this spot you\nshall never leave till you have given me satisfaction for the insult.\"\n\n[Illustration: A torque [pronounced _tork_] of gold: a twisted collar\nfor the neck. Golden torques were much used by kings and other rich\npeople. Many torques are in the National Museum: but most of them are\nbetter made and twisted more closely than the one here represented.]\n\nSo spoke the wizard-champion, and instantly advanced on Dermot with fury\nin his eyes. But Dermot was not the man to be terrified by any hero or\nwizard-champion alive. He met the foe half-way; and now, foot to foot,\nand knee to knee, and face to face, they began a fight, watchful and\nwary at first, but soon hot and vengeful, till their shields and helmets\ncould scarce withstand their strong thrusts and blows. Like two enraged\nlions fighting to the death, or two strong serpents intertwined in\ndeadly strife, or two great opposing billows thundering against each\nother on the ocean border; such was the strength and fury and\ndetermination of the combat of these two heroes.\n\nAnd so they fought through the long day, till evening came, and it began\nto be dusk; when suddenly the wizard-champion sprang outside the range\nof Dermot's sword, and leaping up with a great bound, he alighted in the\nvery centre of the well. Down he went through it, and disappeared in a\nmoment before Dermot's eyes, as if the well had swallowed him up. Dermot\nstood on the brink, leaning on his spear, amazed and perplexed, looking\nafter him in the water; but whether the hero had meant to drown himself,\nor that he had played some wizard trick, Dermot knew not.\n\nHe sat down to rest, full of vexation that the wizard-champion should\nhave got off so easily. And what chafed him still more was that his\ncompanions knew nought of what had happened, and that when he returned,\nhe could tell them nothing of the strange hero; neither had he the least\ntoken or trophy to show them after his long fight.\n\nDermot now began to think what was best to be done; and he made up his\nmind to stay near the well all night, in the hope of finding out\nsomething further about the wizard-champion on the morrow.\n\nHe walked towards the nearest point of a great forest that stretched\nfrom the mountain down to the plain on his left; and as he came near, a\nherd of speckled deer ran by among the trees. Poising his spear, he\nthrew it with an unerring cast, and brought down the nearest of the\nherd.\n\nThen, having lighted a fire under a tree, he skinned the deer and fixed\nit on long hazel spits to roast, having first, however, gone to the\nwell, and brought away the drinking-horn full of water. And he sat\nbeside the roasting deer to turn it and tend the fire, waiting\nimpatiently for his meal; for he was hungry and tired after the toil of\nthe day.\n\nWhen the deer was cooked, he ate till he was satisfied, and drank the\nclear water of the well from the drinking-horn; after which he lay down\nunder the shade of the tree, beside the fire, and slept a sound sleep\ntill morning.\n\nNight passed away and the sun rose, bringing morning with its abundant\nlight. Dermot started up, refreshed after his long sleep, and, repairing\nto the forest, he slew another deer, and fixed it on hazel spits to\nroast at the fire as before. For Dermot had this custom, that he would\nnever eat of any food left from a former meal.\n\nAnd after he had eaten of the deer's flesh and drunk from the horn, he\nwent towards the well. But though his visit was early, he found the\nwizard-champion there before him, standing beside the pillar-stone,\nfully armed as before, and looking now more wrathful than ever. Dermot\nwas much surprised; but before he had time to speak, the wizard-champion\naddressed him--\n\n\"Dermot O'Dyna, you have now put the cap on all your evil deeds. It was\nnot enough that you took my drinking-horn and drank from my well: you\nhave done much worse than this, for you have hunted on my grounds, and\nhave killed some of my speckled deer. Surely there are many\nhunting-grounds in Erin of the green plains, with plenty of deer in\nthem; and you need not have come hither to commit these robberies on me.\nBut now for a certainty you shall not go from this spot till I have\ntaken satisfaction for all these misdeeds.\"\n\nAnd again the two champions attacked each other, and fought during the\nlong day, from morning till evening. And when the dusk began to fall,\nthe wizard-champion leaped into the well, and disappeared down through\nit, even as he had done the day before.\n\nThe selfsame thing happened on the third day. And each day, morning and\nevening, Dermot killed a deer, and ate of its flesh, and drank of the\nwater of the well from the drinking-horn.\n\nOn the fourth morning, Dermot found the wizard-champion standing as\nusual by the pillar-stone near the well. And as each morning he looked\nmore angry than on the morning before, so now he scowled in a way that\nwould have terrified anyone but Dermot O'Dyna.\n\nAnd they fought during the day till the dusk of evening. But now Dermot\nwatched his foe narrowly; and when he saw him about to spring into the\nwell he closed on him and threw his arms round him. The wizard-champion\nstruggled to free himself, moving all the time nearer and nearer to the\nbrink; but Dermot held on, till at last both fell into the well. Down\nthey went, clinging to each other, Dermot and the strange champion;\ndown, down, deeper and deeper they went; and Dermot tried to look round,\nbut nothing could he see save darkness and dim shadows. At length there\nwas a glimmer of light; then the bright day burst suddenly upon them;\nand presently they came to the solid ground, gently and without the\nleast shock.\n\nAt the very moment they reached the ground, the wizard-champion, with a\nsudden effort, tore himself away from Dermot's grasp, and ran forward\nwith great speed. Dermot leaped to his feet; and he was so amazed at\nwhat he saw around him that he stood stock still and let the\nwizard-champion escape:--a lovely country, with many green-sided hills\nand fair valleys between, woods of red yew trees, and plains laughing\nall over with flowers of every hue.\n\nRight before him, not far off, lay a city of great tall houses with\nglittering roofs; and on the side nearest to him was a royal palace,\nlarger and grander than the rest. On the level green in front of the\npalace were a number of knights, all armed, and amusing themselves with\nvarious warlike exercises of sword and shield and spear.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish bronze shield, 28 inches in diameter, found\nin a bog in the Co. Limerick. Shields were often made of yew-wood, which\nis very hard: and oftener still of wickerwork, covered outside with\ntough hides, generally tanned. Wickerwork shields were sometimes large\nenough to cover the whole body. On the inside of every shield was a\ncrossbar which was held in the hand: and for additional safety a leather\nstrap fastened to the shield, went round the warrior's neck.]\n\nTo tell all Dermot's adventures here would be too long for this book.\nBut he remained in that strange country, till he met the wizard\nchampion and subdued him in fight. And after much searching he found\nConan and the others who had been carried off by the Gilla Dacker's\nhorse after which they all returned to the ship. And they sailed back to\nErin where, when they landed, they were welcomed with a mighty shout by\nthe assembled Fena.\n\n From \"Old Celtic Romances,\" by P. W. JOYCE, LL.D.\n\n\n\n\nXXXI.\n\nSAINT COLUMKILLE: PART I.\n\n\nSaint Columkille[139-1] was born in the year 521, in Gartan, a wild\ndistrict in the county Donegal, not far from Letterkenny. He was a near\nrelation of the kings of Ireland of his time; for his father was\ngreat-grandson of the mighty King Niall of the Nine Hostages (see p. 5):\nand his mother was related to the kings of Leinster. He spent his\nboyhood in a little village near Gartan; and when he was old enough, he\nwas sent away from his home to a school kept by a distinguished bishop\nand teacher, St. Finnen, at Movilla, near the present Newtownards, in\nDown. Though he belonged to a princely family, and might easily have\nbecome rich and great, he gave up these worldly advantages for religion,\nand resolved to become a priest.\n\n [139-1] In books he is often called Columba; but in Ireland he is\n best known by the name Columkille. This is derived from\n _colum_ [pron. _collum_] a dove, and _cill_, or _kill_, a\n church: the \"Dove of the church.\" This name was given him\n when a boy from his gentle, affectionate disposition, and\n because he was so fond of praying in the little church of\n Tullydouglas, near where he was born: so that the little\n boys who were accustomed to play with him used often to\n ask: \"Has our little _Colum_ yet come from the church?\"\n\n The sketch given here is taken chiefly, but not\n altogether, from Adamnan's \"Life of St. Columba.\" Adamnan\n was a native of Tirconnell or Donegal, like Columba\n himself. He died in the year 703. He was the ninth abbot\n of Iona, of which Columba was the first. His \"Life of St.\n Columba\" is a very beautiful piece of Latin composition.\n\n[Illustration: Ruins of the Monastery of Movilla, near Newtownards.\n(Drawn in 1845.)]\n\nHaving spent some time at Movilla, the youthful Columkille went to\nseveral other Irish Colleges, including that of St. Movi, at Glasnevin,\nnear Dublin; and as he was a diligent student, he made great progress in\nall. The most celebrated of these was at Clonard, in Meath, in which\nthere were many hundreds of students under the instruction of another\nSt. Finnen, a great and holy man, who is styled in old Irish writings \"a\ndoctor of wisdom and the tutor of the saints of Ireland in his time.\"\nHere Columkille met many young Irishmen who afterwards became\ndistinguished saints and missionaries.\n\nAs soon as he was ordained priest, he set about the work of his\nlife--spreading the Gospel. At that time the high ridge over the river\nFoyle, where now stands the old city of Derry, was an uninhabited spot,\nclothed with a splendid wood of oaks, from which it got the name of\nDerry, meaning an oak grove: this spot was presented to Columkille by\nhis cousin, prince Aed, afterwards king of Ireland. Here, when he was\ntwenty-five years of age, he built his first church, round which grew up\na monastery that continued to flourish for many hundred years, so that,\nin memory of the saint, the place was long afterwards known by the name\nof Derry-Columkille. At this period of his life he was a man of noble\npresence, a worthy member of a kingly race, as one of the old Irish\nwriters describes him:--tall, broad-shouldered, and powerful: with long,\ncurling hair: luminous grey eyes, and a countenance bright and\npleasing: and he was always lively and agreeable in conversation.\n\n[Illustration: Remains of a Round Tower at Drumcliff, 4 miles north of\nSligo town: built near the church founded by St. Columkille; but long\nafter his time.]\n\nFor fifteen years after the establishment of Derry, Columkille continued\nto found churches all over the country, among many others those of Kells\nin Meath, Tory Island, Swords near Dublin, Drumcliff in Sligo, and\nDurrow in King's County, the last of which was his chief establishment\nin Ireland. It is recorded that during these fifteen years he founded\naltogether three hundred churches and monasteries. These establishments,\nlike all the other Irish monasteries, were the means of spreading not\nonly religion but general enlightenment: for in most of them there were\nschools; and the priests and monks converted, and taught, and civilised,\nto the best of their power, the people in their neighbourhood.\n\nMany years before this, St. Patrick and the missionaries who worked\nunder his guidance, had converted the greatest part of the Irish people\nto Christianity. But the time was too short and the missionaries too few\nto instruct the newly-converted people fully in their faith: so that\nalthough they were Christians, many of them had only a poor knowledge of\nthe Christian doctrine. In those times there were certain persons in\nIreland called Druids, who were the learned men among the pagans of the\nday, and who taught the people the pagan religion known as Druidism.\nThey hated the Christian faith, and gave St. Patrick and his companions\ngreat trouble by trying to persuade the pagan Irish not to become\nChristians. They continued in the country till the time of St.\nColumkille, as active as ever though much fewer; and St. Columkille and\nthe other missionaries of his time had often hard work to win over the\npeople from the false teaching of these druids, and make good Christians\nof them.\n\nA great part of the north of Scotland was then inhabited by a people\ncalled the Picts. Those of them who lived south of the Grampian\nmountains had been converted some time before by St. Ninian of\nGlastonbury:[143-1] but the northern Picts were still pagans; and\nColumkille made up his mind to leave Ireland and devote the rest of his\nlife to their conversion. In 563, in the forty-second year of his age,\nhe bade a sorrowful farewell to his native country, and crossing the sea\nwith twelve companions, he settled in the island of Iona, in the\nHebrides, which had been presented to him by his relative, the king of\nthat part of Scotland. Here he built his little church and monastery,\nall of wood, and began to prepare for his glorious work. This little\nisland afterwards became the Greatest religious centre in Scotland: and\ngrand churches and other buildings were erected in and around the site\nof Columkille's humble structures. For many centuries Iona was held in\nsuch honour that most of the kings and chiefs and other great people of\nScotland were buried in it; and to this day it is full of venerable and\nbeautiful ruins, which are every year visited by people from all parts\nof the British Islands.\n\n [143-1] Glastonbury, a town in Somersetshire, in England, where in\n old times there was a celebrated monastery, much reported\n to by Irish students.\n\nThe most laborious part of St. Columkille's active life began after his\nsettlement in Iona. He traversed the Highlands of Scotland and the\nIslands of the Hebrides, sometimes in a rude chariot, sometimes on foot,\nvisiting the kings and chiefs of the Picts, and preaching to them in\ntheir homes; and he founded churches and monasteries all over that part\nof Scotland, just as he had done in Ireland. After many years of\nincessant labour he succeeded in converting the whole of the northern\nPicts.\n\nWhen Columkille was at home in his monastery resting from his\nmissionary labours, his favourite occupation was copying the Holy\nScriptures. We are told that he wrote with his own hand, in the course\nof years, three hundred copies of the sacred books, which he presented\nto the various churches he had founded; and this good work he continued\nto the very last day of his life. Besides mere copying, he composed many\nhymns and other poems, both in Latin and Irish. He was always employed\nat something. Adamnan says that not an hour of the day passed by without\nsome work for himself and his monks--praying, reading, writing,\narranging the affairs of the monastery, or manual work: for he took his\nown share in cooking, grinding corn, overseeing the men who were working\nin the fields, and so forth.\n\n\n\n\nXXXII.\n\nSAINT COLUMKILLE: PART II.\n\n\nDuring St. Columkille's residence in Iona he visited Ireland more than\nonce, on important business: and we may be sure that he was delighted\nwhen the opportunity came to see again the land he loved so well. The\nmost important of these occasions was when he came over to take part in\na great Meeting--a sort of Parliament for all Ireland--which was held at\na place called Drum-Ketta in Derry. The proceedings at this meeting\nwill be found described in the \"Child's History of Ireland.\"\n\nAmidst all the earnest and laborious efforts of St. Columkille in the\ncause of religion, he never forgot his native country. He looked upon\nhimself as an exile, though a voluntary exile in a great and glorious\ncause; and a tender regret was always mingled with his recollections of\nIreland. We have in our old books a very ancient poem in the Irish\nlanguage, believed to have been composed by him, in which he expresses\nhimself in this manner:--\n\n\n \"How delightful to be on Ben-Edar before embarking on the foam-white\n sea: how pleasant to row one's little curragh all round it, to look\n upward at its bare steep border, and to hear the waves dashing;\n against its rocky cliffs.\n\n \"A grey eye looks back towards Erin: a grey eye full of tears.\n\n \"While I traverse Alban of the ravens, I think on my little oak\n grove in Derry. If the tributes and the riches of Alban were mine,\n from the centre to the utmost borders, I would prefer to them all\n one little house in Derry. The reason I love Derry is for its\n quietness, for its purity, for its crowds of white angels.\n\n \"How sweet it is to think of Durrow: how delightful would it be to\n hear the music of the breeze rustling through its groves.\n\n \"Plentiful is the fruit in the Western Island--beloved Erin of many\n waterfalls: plentiful her noble proves of oak. Many are her kings\n and princes; sweet-voiced her clerics; her birds warble joyously in\n the woods; gentle are her youths; wise her seniors; comely and\n graceful her women, of spotless virtue; illustrious her men, of\n noble aspect.\n\n \"There is a grey eye that fills with tears when it looks back\n towards Erin. While I stand on the oaken deck of my bark I stretch\n my vision westwards over the briny sea towards Erin.\"\n\n\nDuring his whole life Columkille retained his affection for his native\nland and for everything connected with it. One breezy day, when he was\nnow in his old age in Iona, a crane appeared flying towards the island:\nit was beaten about by the wind, and with much difficulty it reached the\nbeach, where it fell down quite spent with hunger and fatigue. And the\ngood old man said to one of his monks:--\n\n\"That crane has come from our dear fatherland, and I earnestly commend\nit to thee: nurse and cherish it tenderly till it is strong enough to\nreturn again to its sweet home in Scotia.\"\n\nAccordingly the monk took the bird up in his arms and brought it to the\nhospice, and fed and tended it for three days till it had quite\nrecovered. The third day was calm, and the bird rose from the earth till\nit had come to a great height, when resting for a moment to look\nforward, it stretched out its neck and directed its course towards\nIreland.\n\n[Illustration: Round Tower of St. Canice, Kilkenny: 100 feet high, and\nperfect, except that it wants the pointed cap. St. Canice was an\nintimate friend of St. Columkille: but this tower was not erected till\nsome centuries after the death of the two saints.]\n\nOn the day before the saint's death he went to a little hill hard by the\nmonastery that overlooked the whole place; and gazing-lovingly round him\nfor the last time, he lifted up his hands and blessed the monastery. And\nas he was returning with his attendant, he grew tired and sat down half\nway to rest; for he was now very weak. While he was sitting here an old\nwhite horse that was employed for many years to carry the pails between\nthe milking place and the monastery, first looked at him intently, and\nthen, coming up slowly, step by step, he laid his head gently on the\nsaint's bosom. And he began to moan pitifully, and big tears rolled from\nhis eyes and fell into the saint's lap: which, when the attendant saw,\nhe came up to drive him away. Put the old man said:--\"Let him alone: he\nloves me. May be God has given him some dim knowledge that his master is\ngoing; from him and from you all: so let him alone.\" At last, standing\nup, he blessed the poor old animal and returned to the monastery.\n\nThe death call came to him when he was seventy-six years of age. Though\nhis death was not a sudden one, he had no sickness before it: he simply\nsank, wearied out with his life-long labours. Although he knew his end\nwas near, he kept writing one of the Psalms till he could write no\nlonger; while his companion Baithen sat beside him. At last, laying down\nthe pen, he said, \"Let Baithen write the rest.\"\n\nOn the night of that same day, at the toll of the midnight bell for\nprayer, he rose, feeble as he was, from his bed, which was nothing but a\nbare flagstone, and went to the church hard by, followed immediately\nafter by his attendant Dermot. He arrived there before the others had\ntime to bring in the lights; and Dermot, losing sight of him in the\ndarkness, called out several times, \"Where are you, father?\" Perceiving\nno reply, he felt his way, till he found his master before the altar\nkneeling and leaning forward on the steps: and raising him up a little,\nsupported his head on his breast. The monks now came up with the lights;\nand seeing their beloved old master dying, they began to weep. He looked\nat them with his face lighted up with joy, and tried to utter a\nblessing; but being unable to speak, he raised his hand a little to\nbless them, and in the very act of doing so he died in Dermot's\narms.[150-1]\n\n [150-1] This simple and beautiful narrative of the last days of St.\n Columkille, including the two pleasing little stories\n about the crane and the old white horse, with the\n affecting account of the saint's death, is taken\n altogether from Adamnan's Life. The circumstances of\n Columkille's death are, in some respects, very like those\n attending the death of the Venerable Bede, as recorded in\n the tender and loving letter of his pupil, the monk\n Cuthbert. But Adamnan's narrative was written more than\n forty years before that of Cuthbert.\n\n Baithen was St. Columkille's first cousin and his most\n beloved disciple, and succeeded him as abbot of Iona.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIII.\n\nPRINCE ALFRED IN IRELAND.\n\n\nIt has been already stated (p. 47) that in early ages great numbers of\nforeigners came to Ireland to study in the colleges. Among those was\nAldfrid or Alfred,[150-2] Prince of Northumbria, one of the Kingdoms of\nthe Saxon Heptarchy. His history is interesting to us as exhibiting an\nexample of the class of persons who came to Ireland for education in\nthose days, and as showing the close relations existing between many of\nthe royal families of England and Ireland.\n\n [150-2] This Alfred must be distinguished from Alfred the Great who\n lived two centuries later.\n\nIn the year 670, on the death of his father Oswy, who was king of\nNorthumbria, the throne was seized unjustly by Alfred's younger brother,\nEgfrid: whereupon Alfred fled to Ireland. He was all the more ready to\nchoose this as his place of exile, inasmuch as he was fond of learning,\nand he knew well that there were more learned and skilful teachers and\nbetter opportunities for study in Ireland than elsewhere. But he had\nanother good reason; for his mother Fina [Feena] was an Irish princess\nof the family of the kings of Meath. The Irish knew him by the name\n\"Flann,\" or more commonly Flann Fina, from his mother. He remained many\nyears in Ireland, studying with great diligence in various colleges,\ntill he had mastered most of the branches of learning then taught. He\nbecame specially skilled in the Holy Scriptures, and he also learned to\nspeak and write the Irish language.\n\nWhile he was in Ireland he was for a time under the instruction of St.\nAdamnan, the writer of the life of St. Columkille (see p. 140, note);\nand so close and affectionate was the intimacy between them, that the\nancient Irish writers often call Alfred Adamnan's foster-son.\n\nIn the year 684 a party of Saxons were sent from Northumbria by Egfrid\nacross the sea on a plundering expedition to Ireland. Having ravaged the\ncoast of Meath,[152-1] between Ben-Edar and the Boyne, these marauders\ncarried off a number of captives, who were held in bondage during the\nshort remainder of his reign. In the very next year Egfrid was killed in\nbattle, on which the Northumbrian nobles, who were well aware of\nAlfred's virtues and great abilities, sent to Ireland inviting him to\ntake the throne: and accordingly he returned to England and became king\nof the Northumbrians.\n\n [152-1] Meath, one of the five Kingdoms into which Ireland was\n divided. Ben-Edar, the old name of Howth, near Dublin.\n\n[Illustration: Ancient Irish thin plate of gold, twice the size of the\npicture. This is one of the bosses at the two ends of a gorget, like\nthat figured at page 19. Now in the National Museum, Dublin.]\n\nThe poor captives were still kept in slavery: but Adamnan, seeing now a\nchance for their release, proceeded to the Northumbrian court to plead\nwith his friend and former pupil for their restoration. He was received\nmost affectionately; and at his intercession the king had the captives\nset free. Adamnan then brought them back, to the number of sixty, and\nrestored them all rejoicing to their homes and friends.\n\nAs soon as Alfred had taken possession of the throne he took careful\nmeasures to have his people instructed in learning, religion, and\nvirtue, in accordance with what he had himself seen and learned in\nIreland; and he governed his kingdom for nineteen years in peace and\nprosperity.\n\nIn several ancient Irish manuscripts, including the Book of Leinster,\nthere is a poem in the Irish language in praise of Ireland, said to have\nbeen composed by Alfred Flann Fina; of which the following are some of\nthe verses faithfully translated[153-1]:--\n\n\nPRINCE ALDFRID'S ACCOUNT OF IRELAND.\n\n I found in Inisfail the fair,\n In Ireland, while in exile there,\n Women of worth, both grave and gay men,\n Many clerics and many laymen.\n\n I travelled its fruitful provinces round,\n And in every one of the five I found,\n Alike in church and in palace hall,\n Abundant apparel, and food for all.\n\n Gold and silver I found, and money,\n Plenty of wheat and plenty of honey;\n I found God's people rich in pity,\n Found many a feast and many a city.\n\n I found in Munster, unfettered of any,\n Kings, and queens, and poets a many--\n Poets well skilled in music and measure,\n Prosperous doings, mirth and pleasure.\n\n I found in Connaught the just, redundance\n Of riches, milk in lavish abundance;\n Hospitality, vigour, fame,\n In Cruachan's[154-1] land of heroic name.\n\n I found in Ulster, from hill to glen,\n Hardy warriors, resolute men;\n Beauty that bloomed when youth was gone,\n And strength transmitted from sire to son.\n\n I found in Leinster the smooth and sleek,\n From Dublin to Slewmargy's[154-2] peak;\n Flourishing pastures, valour, health,\n Long-living worthies, commerce, wealth.\n\n I found in Meath's fair principality,\n Virtue, vigour, and hospitality;\n Candour, joyfulness, bravery, purity,\n Ireland's bulwark and security.\n\n I found strict morals in age and youth,\n I found historians recording truth;\n The things I sing of in verse unsmooth,\n I found them all--I have written sooth.\n\n [153-1] It was translated very exactly into prose in 1832 by the\n great Irish scholar Dr. John O'Donovan: the Irish poet\n James Clarence Mangan turned this prose with very little\n change into verse, part of which is given here.\n\n [154-1] Cruachan or Croghan in the north of the present Co.\n Roscommon, the ancient palace of the kings of Connaught:\n see page 52.\n\n [154-2] Slewmargy, now Slievemargy, a low range of hills in Queen's\n County.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIV.\n\nTHE VOYAGE OF MAILDUNE.\n\nAN ACCOUNT OF THE ADVENTURES OF MAILDUNE[155-1] AND HIS CREW, AND OF THE\nWONDERFUL THINGS THEY SAW DURING THEIR VOYAGE OF THREE YEARS AND SEVEN\nMONTHS, IN THEIR CURRAGH, ON THE WESTERN SEA.\n\n\nIn that part of Thomond[155-2] lying opposite the Aran Islands there\nonce lived a young chief named Maildune. When he was an infant, a band\nof marauders landed on the coast, and plundered the whole district, and\nslew his father by burning the house over his head. Maildune grew up\nknowing nothing of all this, for his mother concealed it from him. But\none day, when he was now a young man, he was contending in certain games\nof strength with a number of young persons of his own age, and he\nobtained the victory in every contest. At last it came to throwing the\nhandstone: and when he had thrown it farther than all the others, an\nenvious foul-tongued fellow who was standing by said to him:--\n\n\"It would better become you to avenge the man who was burned to death\nhere, than to be amusing yourself casting a stone over his bare, burnt\nbones.\"\n\n [155-1] Only a few of his adventures are given here: but the whole\n story of the voyage is in \"Old Celtic Romances\": see page\n 164, farther on.\n\n [155-2] Thomond, North Munster, namely the present county Clare and\n parts of Tipperary and Limerick.\n\n\"Who was he?\" inquired Maildune.\n\n\"Your own father,\" replied the other.\n\n\"Who slew him?\" asked Maildune.\n\n\"Plunderers from a fleet slew him and burned him in this house; and the\nsame plunderers are now living in an island far out in the sea, and they\nstill have the same fleet.\"\n\nMaildune was disturbed and sad after hearing this. He dropped the stone\nthat he held in his hand, folded his cloak round him, buckled on his\nshield, and left the company. And having made further inquiry and found\nthat the story was true, he resolved that he would never rest till he\nhad overtaken these plunderers, and avenged on them the death of his\nfather.\n\nThen he sent for a skilful workman to whom he gave directions to make\nfor him a triple-hide curragh[157-1] large enough to hold sixty persons\nand all things needed for a voyage. This was done: and Maildune chose\nhis companions; and having laid in a little stock of provisions, and\nwhatever other things were needed, he put to sea.\n\n [157-1] Curragh, a boat made of basket or wicker work, covered with\n hides. Curraghs were generally small and light: but some,\n intended for long voyages, were large and strong, and\n covered with two, or three, layers of hide one outside\n another. Sometimes the hides were tanned into leather to\n give additional strength.\n\n\nTHE FIRST ISLAND.--TIDINGS OF THE PLUNDERERS.\n\nThey sailed that day and night, as well as the whole of the next day,\ntill darkness came on again; and at midnight they saw two small bare\nislands, with two great houses on them near the shore. When they drew\nnigh, they heard the sounds of merriment and laughter, and the shouts of\nrevellers intermingled with the loud voices of warriors boasting of\ntheir deeds. And listening to catch the conversation, they heard one\nwarrior say to another--\n\n\"Stand off from me, for I am a better warrior than thou; it was I who\nslew Maildune's father, and burned the house over his head; and no one\nhas ever dared to avenge it on me. Thou hast never done a great deed\nlike that!\"\n\n\"Now surely,\" said one of Maildune's companions to him, \"Heaven has\nguided our ship to this place. Here is an easy victory. Let us sack this\nhouse, since our enemies have been revealed to us and delivered into our\nhands!\"\n\nWhile they were yet speaking, the wind arose, and a great tempest\nsuddenly broke on them. And they were driven violently before the storm,\nall that night and a part of next day, into the great and boundless\nocean; so that they saw neither the islands they had left nor any other\nland; and they knew not whither they were going.\n\nThen Maildune said, \"Take down your sail and put by your oars, and let\nthe curragh drift before the wind in whatsoever direction it pleases God\nto lead us\": which was done.\n\n\n\n\nXXXV.\n\nAN EXTRAORDINARY MONSTER.\n\n\nDuring the next few days, the wind bore Maildune's curragh along\nsmoothly, so that the crew had not to use their oars. The island they\nnow came to had a wall all round it. When they approached the shore, an\nanimal of vast size, with a thick, rough skin, started up inside the\nwall, and ran round the island with the swiftness of the wind. When he\nhad ended his race, he went to a high point, and standing on a large,\nflat stone, began to exercise himself according to his daily custom, in\nthe following manner. He kept turning himself completely round and round\nin his skin, the bones and flesh moving, while the skin remained at\nrest.\n\nWhen he was tired of this exercise, he rested a little; and he then set\nto work turning his skin continually round his body, down at one side\nand up at the other like a mill-wheel; but the bones and flesh did not\nmove.\n\nAfter spending some time at this sort of exercise, he started and ran\nround the island as at first, as if to refresh himself. He then went\nback to the same spot, and this time, while the skin that covered the\nlower part of his body remained without motion, he whirled the skin of\nthe upper part round and round like the movement of a flat-lying\nmillstone. And it was in this manner that he passed most of his time on\nthe island.\n\nMaildune and his people, after they had seen these strange doings,\nthought it better not to venture nearer. So they put out to sea in great\nhaste. The monster, observing them about to fly, ran down to the beach\nto seize the curragh; but finding that they had got out of his reach, he\nbegan to fling round stones at them with great force and an excellent\naim. One of them struck Maildune's shield and went quite through it,\nlodging in the keel of the curragh; after which the voyagers got beyond\nhis range and sailed away.\n\n\n In a wall-circled isle a big monster they found,\n With a hide like an elephant, leathery and bare;\n He threw up his heels with a wonderful bound,\n And ran round the isle with the speed of a hare.\n\n But a feat more astounding has yet to be told:\n He turned round and round in his leathery skin;\n His bones and his flesh and his sinews he rolled--\n He was resting outside while he twisted within!\n\n Then changing his practice with marvellous skill,\n His carcase stood rigid and round went his hide;\n It whirled round his bones like the wheel of a mill--\n He was resting within while he twisted outside!\n\n Next, standing quite near on a green little hill,\n After galloping round in the very same track,\n While the skin of his breast remained perfectly still,\n Like a millstone he twisted the skin of his back!\n\n But Maildune and his men put to sea in their boat,\n For they saw his two eyes looking over the wall;\n And they knew by the way that he opened his throat,\n He intended to swallow them, curragh and all!\n\n\nTHE SILVER PILLAR OF THE SEA.\n\nThe next wonderful thing the voyagers came across was an immense silver\npillar standing in the sea. It had eight sides, each of which was the\nwidth of an oar-stroke of the curragh, so that its whole circumference\nwas eight oar-strokes. It rose out of the sea without any land or earth\nabout it, nothing but the boundless ocean; and they could not see its\nbase deep down in the water, neither were they able to see the top on\naccount of its vast height.\n\nA silver net hung from the top down to the very water, extending far out\nat one side of the pillar; and the meshes were so large that the curragh\nin full sail went through one of them. When they were passing through\nit, Diuran, one of Maildune's companions, struck the mesh with the edge\nof his spear, and with the blow cut a large piece off it.\n\n\"Do not destroy the net,\" said Maildune; \"for what we see is the work of\ngreat men.\"\n\n\"What I have done,\" answered Diuran, \"is for the honour of my God, and\nin order that the story of our adventures may be more readily believed;\nand I shall lay this silver as an offering on the altar of Armagh, if I\never reach Erin.\"\n\nThat piece of silver weighed two ounces and a half, as it was reckoned\nafterwards by the people of the church of Armagh.\n\nAfter this the voyagers heard someone speaking on the top of the pillar,\nin a loud, clear, glad voice; but they knew neither what he said, nor in\nwhat language he spoke.\n\n\n\n\nXXXVI.\n\nMAILDUNE MEETS HIS ENEMY, IS RECONCILED TO HIM, AND ARRIVES HOME.\n\n\nThe next land the travellers sighted was a small island. On a near\napproach they recognised it as the very same island they had seen in the\nbeginning of their voyage, in which they had heard the man in the great\nhouse boast that he had slain Maildune's father, and from which the\nstorm had driven them out into the great ocean.\n\nThey turned the prow of their vessel to the shore, landed, and went\ntowards the house. It happened that at this very time the people of the\nhouse were seated at their evening meal; and Maildune and his\ncompanions, as they stood outside, heard a part of their conversation.\n\nSaid one to another, \"It would not be well for us if we were now to see\nMaildune.\"\n\n\"As to Maildune,\" answered another, \"it is very well known that he was\ndrowned long ago in the great ocean.\"\n\n\"Do not be sure,\" observed a third; \"perchance he is the very man that\nmay waken you up some morning from your sleep.\"\n\n\"Supposing he came now,\" asked another, \"what should we do?\"\n\nThe head of the house now spoke in reply to the last question; and\nMaildune at once knew the voice, for it was the voice of the man who\nhad made a boast of slaying the young chief's father.\n\nAnd what he said was:--\"I can easily answer that. Maildune has been for\na long time suffering great afflictions and hardships; and if he were to\ncome now, though we were enemies once, I should certainly give him a\nwelcome and a kind reception.\"\n\nWhen Maildune heard this he knocked at the door; and the door-keeper\nasked who was there; to which Maildune made answer--\n\n\"It is I, Maildune, returned safely from all my wanderings.\"\n\nThe chief of the house then ordered the door to be opened; and he went\nto meet Maildune, and brought him and his companions into the house.\nThey were joyfully welcomed by the whole household; new garments were\ngiven to them; and they feasted and rested, till they forgot their\nweariness and their hardships.\n\nThey related all the wonders God had revealed to them in the course of\ntheir voyage, according to the word of the sage who says, \"It will be a\nsource of pleasure to remember these things at a future time.\"\n\nAfter they had remained here for some days, Maildune and his companions\nreturned to their own country. And Diuran took the piece of silver he\nhad cut down from the great net at the Silver Pillar, and laid it,\naccording to his promise, on the high altar of Armagh.\n\n From \"Old Celtic Romances,\" by P. W. JOYCE, LL.D.\n\n\n\n\nXXXVII.\n\nTENNYSON'S \"VOYAGE OF MAILDUNE.\"\n\n(\"FOUNDED ON AN IRISH LEGEND: A.D. 700.\")\n\n\nOf the tale called the \"Voyage of Maildune,\" the oldest copy is in the\nBook of the Dun Cow, which was copied from older books eight hundred\nyears ago: but here the story is imperfect at both the beginning and\nend, portions of the book having been torn away at some former time.\nThere is, however, a perfect copy in the Yellow Book of Lecan.[164-1] It\nwas translated and published for the first time in \"Old Celtic Romances\"\nin 1879. When this book appeared, the great English poet, Alfred\nTennyson (afterwards Lord Tennyson), read the story, and made it the\nsubject of a beautiful poem, also called \"The Voyage of Maildune.\"\nPortions of the beginning and end of this poem are here given:--\n\n\nI.\n\n I was the chief of the race--he had stricken my father dead--\n But I gather'd my fellows together, I swore I would strike off his\n head.\n Each of them looked like a king, and was noble in birth as in worth,\n And each of them boasted he sprang from the oldest race upon earth.\n Each was as brave in the fight as the bravest hero of song,\n And each of them liefer had died than have done one another a wrong.\n _He_ lived on an isle in the ocean--we sail'd on a Friday morn--\n He that had slain my father the day before I was born.\n\n [164-1] For the Book of the Dun Cow and the Yellow Book of Lecan,\n see p. 118.\n\n\nII.\n\n And we came to the isle in the ocean, and there on the shore was he.\n But a sudden blast blew us out and away thro' a boundless sea.\n\n * * * * *\n\n\nXI.\n\n And we came to the Isle of a saint who had sail'd with St.\n Brendan[165-1] of yore,\n He had lived ever since on the Isle and his winters were fifteen\n score,\n And his voice was low as from other worlds, and his eyes were sweet,\n And his white hair sank to his heels and his white beard fell to his\n feet,\n And he spake to me, \"O Maeldune, let be this purpose of thine!\n Remember the words of the Lord when he told us 'Vengeance is mine!'\n His fathers have slain thy fathers in war or in single strife,\n Thy fathers have slain his fathers, each taken a life for a life,\n Thy father had slain his father, how long shall the murder last?\n Go back to the Isle of Finn[166-1] and suffer the Past to be Past.\"\n\n [165-1] St. Brendan of Clonfert in Kerry, commonly called Brendan\n the Navigator: born in Kerry in 484. He sailed from near\n Brandon mountain in Kerry (which is named from him) on his\n celebrated voyage of seven years on the Atlantic, in which\n it is related he saw many wonderful things--quite as\n wonderful as those of Maildune.\n\n [166-1] The Isle of Finn: i.e. of Finn Mac Cumaill: Ireland (see p.\n 92).\n\n\nXII.\n\n And we came to the Isle we were blown from, and there on the shore\n was he,\n The man that had slain my father. I saw him and let him be.\n O weary was I of the travel, the trouble, the strife and the sin,\n When I landed again, with a tithe of my men, on the Isle of Finn.\n\n\n\n\nXXXVIII.\n\nST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE.[167-1]\n\nPART I.\n\n\nAt page 47 of this book it has been related how missionaries and learned\nmen went in great numbers from Ireland to the Continent in the early\nages of Christianity to preach the Gospel and to teach in colleges. A\nfull account of the lives and labours of these earnest and holy men\nwould fill several volumes: but the following short sketch of one of\nthem will give the reader a good idea of all.\n\n [167-1] Fiesole in Tuscany, Italy: pronounced in four syllables:\n Fee-ess'-o-le.\n\nDonatus was born in Ireland of noble parents towards the end of the\neighth century. There is good reason to believe that he was educated in\nthe monastic school of Inishcaltra, a little island in Lough Derg, near\nthe Galway shore, now better known as Holy Island[167-2]: so that he was\nprobably a native of that part of the country. Here he studied with\ngreat industry and success. He became a priest, and in course of time a\nbishop: and he was greatly distinguished as a professor.\n\n [167-2] In the \"Child's History of Ireland\" there is a picture of\n the round tower and church ruins on this little island.\n\nHaving spent a number of years teaching, he resolved to make a\npilgrimage to Rome and visit the holy places on the way. He had a\nfavourite pupil named Andrew, belonging to a noble Irish family, a\nhandsome, high-spirited youth, but of a deeply religious turn: and these\ntwo, master and scholar, were much attached. And when Donatus made known\nhis intention to go as a pilgrim to foreign lands, Andrew, who could not\nbear to be separated from him, begged to be permitted to go with him: to\nwhich Donatus consented. When they had made the few simple preparations\nnecessary, they went down to the shore, accompanied by friends and\nrelatives; and bidding farewell to all--home, friends, and country--amid\ntears and regrets, they set sail and landed on the coast of France.\n\nAnd now, here were these two men, with stout hearts, determined will,\nand full trust in God, exhibiting an excellent example of what\nnumberless Irish exiles of those days gave up, and of what trials and\ndangers they exposed themselves to, for the sake of religion. One was a\nsuccessful teacher and a bishop; the other a young chief; and both might\nhave lived in their own country a life of peace and plenty. But they\nrelinquished all that for a higher and holier purpose; and they brought\nwith them neither luxury nor comfort. They had, on landing, just as much\nmoney and food as started them on their journey; and with a small\nsatchel strapped on shoulder, containing a book or two and some other\nnecessary articles, and with stout staff in hand, they travelled the\nwhole way on foot. Whenever a monastery lay near their road, there they\ncalled, sure of a kind reception, and rested for a day or two. When no\nmonastery was within reach, they simply begged for food and night\nshelter as they fared along, making themselves understood by the\npeasantry as best they could, for they knew little or nothing of their\nlanguage. Much hardship they endured from hunger and thirst, bad\nweather, rough paths that often led them astray, and constant fatigue.\nThey were sometimes in danger too from rude and wicked peasants, some of\nwhom thought no more of killing a stranger than of killing a sparrow.\nBut before setting out, the two pilgrims knew well the hardships and\ndangers in store for them on the way: so that they were quite prepared\nfor all this: and on they trudged, contented and cheerful, never\nswerving an instant from their purpose. They travelled in a sort of\nzigzag way, continually turning aside to visit churches, shrines,\nhermitages, and all places consecrated by memory of old-time saints, or\nof past events of importance in the history of Christianity. And\nwhenever they heard, as they went slowly along, of a man eminent for\nholiness and learning, they made it a point to visit him, so as to have\nthe benefit of his conversation and advice; using the Latin language,\nwhich all learned men spoke in those times.\n\n\n\n\nXXXIX.\n\nST. DONATUS, BISHOP OF FIESOLE:\n\nPART II.\n\n\nIn this manner the pilgrims made their way right through France, and on\nthrough north Italy, till they arrived at Rome. This was the main object\nof their pilgrimage, and here they sojourned for a considerable time.\nHaving obtained the Pope's blessing, they set out once more, directing\ntheir steps now towards Tuscany, till at length they reached the\nbeautiful mountain of Fiesole, near Florence, where stood many churches\nand other memorials of Christian saints and martyrs. They entered the\nhospice of the monastery, intending to rest there for a week or two, and\nthen to resume their journey. At this time Irish pilgrims and\nmissionaries were respected everywhere on the Continent; and as soon as\nthe arrival of those two became known, they were received with honour by\nboth clergy and people, who became greatly attached to them for their\ngentle quiet ways, and their holiness of life.\n\nIt happened about the time of their arrival here, that the pastor of\nFiesole, who was a bishop, died; and the clergy and people resolved to\nhave Donatus for their pastor. But when they went to him and told him\nwhat they wanted, he became frightened; and trembling greatly, he said\nto them in his gentle humble way:--\n\n\"We are only poor pilgrims from Scotia, and I do not wish to be your\nbishop; for I am not at all fit for it, hardly even knowing your\nlanguage or your customs.\"\n\nBut the more he entreated the more vehemently did they insist: so that\nat last he consented to take the bishop's chair. This was in or about\nthe year 824.\n\nWe need not follow the life of St. Donatus further here. It is enough to\nsay that, notwithstanding all his fears and his deep humility, he became\na great and successful pastor and missionary. For about thirty-seven\nyears he laboured among the people of Fiesole, by whom he was greatly\nloved and revered. Down to the day of his death, which happened about\n861, when he was a very old man, he was attended by his affectionate\nfriend Andrew. He is to this day honoured in and around Fiesole, as an\nillustrious saint of those times. His tomb is still shown and regarded\nwith much veneration: and in the old town there are several other\nmemorials of him.\n\nLike St. Columkille, Donatus always cherished a tender regretful love\nfor Ireland; and like him also he wrote a short poem in praise of it\nwhich is still preserved. It is in Latin, and the following is a\ntranslation, made by a Dublin poet many years ago:--\n\n\n Far westward lies an isle of ancient fame,\n By nature bless'd; and Scotia is her name,\n Enroll'd in books[172-1]: exhaustless is her store,\n Of veiny silver, and of golden ore.[172-2]\n Her fruitful soil, for ever teems with wealth,\n With gems[172-3] her waters, and her air with health;\n Her verdant fields with milk and honey flow;[172-4]\n Her woolly fleeces[172-5] vie with virgin snow;\n Her waving furrows float with bearded corn;\n And arms and arts her envied sons adorn![172-6]\n No savage bear, with lawless fury roves,\n Nor fiercer lion, through her peaceful groves;\n No poison there infects, no scaly snake\n Creeps through the grass, nor frog annoys the lake;[172-7]\n An island worthy of its pious race,\n In war triumphant, and unmatch'd in peace!\n\n [172-1] _I.e._ enrolled in books under the name of Scotia. The\n natives always called it Erin.\n\n [172-2] Ireland had mines of gold in old times; and silver was also\n found. Great numbers of Irish gold ornaments, found from\n time to time in the earth, are now preserved in Museums.\n\n [172-3] Pearls were then found in many Irish rivers; as they are,\n sometimes, to this day.\n\n [172-4] The Venerable Bede, a great English historian, writing in\n the eighth century, calls Ireland \"a land flowing with\n milk and honey.\"\n\n [172-5] Ireland was noted for the plenty and goodness of its wool.\n\n [172-6] Ireland had great warriors, and many learned men and skilful\n artists (see pp. 20, 47, and 117).\n\n [172-7] There are no venomous reptiles in Ireland. There were then\n no frogs: but these were afterwards introduced from\n England.\n\n\n\n\nXL.\n\nHOW IRELAND WAS INVADED BY DANES AND ANGLO-NORMANS.\n\n\nFrom the time of the settlement of the Milesians, as described at page\n3, Ireland was ruled by native kings, without any disturbance from\noutside, till the arrival of the invaders we are now about to speak of.\n\nDuring all these centuries, though there were troubles enough from the\nquarrels of the kings and chiefs, learning and art, as we have seen,\nwere successfully cultivated. But a change came--a woful change--once\nthe Danes began to arrive. These were pirates, all pagans, from Denmark\nand other countries round the Baltic Sea, brave and daring, but very\nwicked and cruel, who for a long period kept, not only Ireland, but the\nwhole of western Europe in terror. They appeared for the first time on\nthe coast of Ireland in the year 795, when they plundered St.\nColumkille's monastery on Lambay Island near Dublin. After this, for\nmore than two hundred years, the country was never free from them, and\nthey plundered and burned and destroyed churches, monasteries,\nlibraries, and homesteads, and killed all that fell in their way, men,\nwomen, and children. They were often attacked and routed by the native\nchiefs; but this did not much discourage them and they generally landed\nso suddenly, and marched through the country so swiftly, that in most\ncases they got clear off to their ships, with all their plunder, before\nthe people could overtake them. They settled permanently in various\ntowns on the coast, especially Dublin, Waterford, and Limerick, which\nthey held for a long time.\n\nAt last they were overthrown by Brian Boru king of Ireland, in a great\nbattle fought at Clontarf near Dublin, on Good Friday, the 23rd April,\n1014, of which a full account may be read in the \"Child's History of\nIreland.\" After this, though no attempt was made to expel them from the\ncountry, they gave little trouble. They became Christians, intermarried\nwith the natives, and settled down to industry and commerce like the\nrest of the people; and there are many of their descendants to this day\nin various parts of Ireland.\n\nFor about a century and a half after the battle of Clontarf, eight Irish\nkings reigned: but none of them succeeded in mastering the whole\ncountry. Some of these were O'Briens of Munster, the descendants of\nBrian Boru; some O'Loghlins of Ulster, a branch of the O'Neill family,\ndescendants of Niall of the Nine Hostages (see p. 5); and some O'Conors\nof Connaught. During this period Ireland was greatly disturbed; for the\nseveral kings were continually fighting with each other, striving who\nshould be head king: so that the next invaders, when they came, found\nthe country ill prepared to resist them.\n\nThose who have read the History of England will remember that the\nNormans, coming from France under William the Conqueror, took the\nsovereignty of England after the battle of Hastings in 1066. About a\ncentury later, their descendants, who were now called Anglo-Normans,\ni.e. English Normans, made settlements in Ireland. Their leader when\nthey first arrived was Earl Strongbow; but in 1171 Henry II., king of\nEngland, came over with an army and took command. In 1172 he annexed\nIreland to the crown of England, that is, he claimed it as a part of his\ndominions. The Over-king of Ireland at this time was Roderick O'Conor.\nHe was unable to repel the new invaders: and after his death there was\nno longer a native king over all Ireland.\n\nKing Henry divided nearly the whole island among his lords, who all\nwent, after some time, to reside in their own territories: but they were\nto remain under the authority of the king. These lords soon became great\nand powerful, and ruled like princes; and from them descend the chief\nAnglo-Irish families, of whom the most distinguished were the Geraldines\nor Fitzgeralds, the Butlers, and the De Burgos or Burkes.\n\nBut it must not be supposed that all this was done quietly: for the\nnative Irish chiefs everywhere resisted these new lords. Although king\nHenry went through the form of \"annexing\" Ireland, it was annexed only\nin name. In reality his authority extended over only a small portion. It\ntook more than four hundred years to annex the whole country: and during\nall this time there were constant wars, the Anglo-Normans encroaching,\nand the Irish chiefs resisting as best they could. It was only in the\nreign of James I., that is, about three hundred years ago, that the\nwhole of Ireland was brought under English law.\n\n[Illustration: O'Dea's Castle, Dysart, Co. Clare. Built in the\nfourteenth century by one of the Irish chiefs. See the note under St.\nFinghin's Church, page 189.]\n\n[Illustration: Bunratty Castle in the south of Clare, on the Bunratty\nRiver, where it joins the Shannon: built about the end of the thirteenth\ncentury by Thomas de Clare, an Anglo-Norman lord.]\n\nThese Anglo-Normans were a great and famous people, skilful and mighty\nin war; and they built splendid abbeys, churches, and castles, all over\nIreland the ruins of which remain to this day. As an example of what\nmanner of men they were, a sketch of the career of one of them--Sir\nJohn de Courcy--is given in this book (page 190).\n\n[Illustration: Kilclief Castle, Co. Down. Built by one of the\nAnglo-Normans in the fourteenth century.]\n\nFor hundreds of years after the Invasion, people continued to come from\nEngland to live in Ireland both Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon. After\nsettling down they became good friends with the native Irish,\nintermarried with them, learned to speak and read the Irish language,\nand quite fell in with the customs and modes of the country, so that it\nwas said of them that they became \"more Irish than the Irish\nthemselves.\" A large proportion of the present inhabitants of Ireland\nare of this race, mixed up however by intermarriage, with the older\nMilesian stock.\n\n\n\n\nXLI.\n\nTHE WATCH-FIRE OF BARNALEE.\n\n\nDuring the many wars in Ireland, small parties of men had often to\ntraverse the country for long distances to bring messages from one\ngeneral to another, and for other purposes. They marched by day and put\nup at night in the woods, choosing some sheltered corner and making a\nbig fire of brambles to keep them warm and to cook their food. After\nsupper they usually sat by the fire, amusing themselves with pleasant\nconversation or by telling stories: and when at last it was time to go\nto sleep, they wrapped themselves up in their great coats and lay down\nround the fire, leaving one of their number to stand guard.\n\nThe following short poem--part of a much longer one--describes how a\nsmall party of four men passed the early part of the night during a\nmarch across country. There was to be a battle in a day or two, and\nthese four friends met, and each told a story by the Watch-fire of\nBarnalee. And they arranged to meet again after the battle, if any\nsurvived. But this turned out to be a sad meeting: there were only two:\nthe other two lay dead on the battlefield.\n\n\nI.\n\n There were four comrades stout and free,\n Within the Wood of Barnalee,\n Under the spreading oaken tree.\n\n\nII.\n\n The ragged clouds sailed past the moon;\n Loud rose the brawling torrent's croon;\n The rising winds howled in the wood,\n Like hungry wolves at scent of blood.\n Yet there they sat, in converse free,\n Under the spreading oaken tree,--\n Garrod the Minstrel, with his lyre,\n Sir Hugh le Poer, that heart of fire,\n Dark Gilliemore, the mournful squire,\n And Donal, from the banks of Nier.\n\n\nIII.\n\n Spectrally shone the watch-fire light\n On their sun-browned faces and helmets bright\n Showing beneath the woodland glooms\n Their swords, and jacks, and waving plumes;\n As there they sat, those comrades free,\n Within the Wood of Barnalee,\n Under the spreading oaken tree,\n And told their tales to you and me.\n\n ROBERT DWYER JOYCE, M.D.\n\n\n\n\nXLII.\n\nCAHAL O'CONOR OF THE RED HAND: KING OF CONNAUGHT.\n\n\nRoderick O'Connor, the last native king of Ireland retired from the\nthrone towards the end of the twelfth century, to end his days in the\nmonastery of Cong.[181-1] After his time, as we have said, there was no\nlonger a king over the whole country. But for hundreds of years\nafterwards, kings continued to reign over the five provinces. Roderick\nhad been king of Connaught before he became king of all Ireland; and\nafter his retirement there were several claimants for the Connaught\nthrone, who contended with one another, so that the province was for a\nlong time disturbed with wars and battles.\n\n [181-1] Cong in Mayo, between Lough Corrib and Lough Mask; the\n remains of an abbey are there still.\n\nRoderick had a young brother named Cahal, who was called Cahal of the\nRed Hand, from a great blood-red mark on his right hand. He would\nnaturally have a claim to the Connaught throne when old enough; and as\nhe was, even when a boy, a noble young fellow, and showed great ability,\nthe queen of Connaught, jealous of him, feared that when he grew up he\nwould give trouble, and she sought him out, determined to kill him: so\nthat Cahal and his mother had to flee from one hiding place to another.\n\nFinding at last that he could no longer remain in the province with\nsafety, he and his mother crossed the Shannon into Leinster, where no\none knew him, and there for several years they remained, while he made a\npoor living for both, by working in the fields as a common labourer. And\nas the fame of the brave young Cahal with the red mark on his hand, had\ngone abroad, he always wore a loose mitten on his right hand for fear of\ndiscovery; for he knew well that the queen had spies everywhere\nsearching for him.\n\nAt this time the people had no newspapers: but there were news-carriers\nwho made it their business to travel continually about the country,\npicking up information wherever they could, and relating all that\noccurred whenever they came to a village, or to any group of people who\ndesired to hear the news. They generally received some small payment;\nand in this manner they made their living.\n\nOne day while Cahal was employed with several others, reaping in a field\nof rye, they saw one of these men approaching; and they stopped their\nwork for a few moments to hear what he had to say. After relating\nseveral unimportant matters, he came at last to the principal\nnews:--that the king of Connaught was dead, and that the leading people\nof the province, having met in counsel to choose a king declared that\nthey would have no one but young Cahal of the Red Hand. \"And now,\"\ncontinued the newsman, \"I and many others have been searching for him\nfor several weeks. He is easily known, for his right hand is blood-red\nfrom the wrist out: but up to this we have been unsuccessful. We fear\nindeed that he is living in poverty in some remote place where he will\nnever be found: or it may be that he is dead.\"\n\nWhen Cahal heard this, his heart gave a great bound, and he stood musing\nfor a few moments. Then flinging his sickle on the ridge, he\nexclaimed:--\"Farewell reaping-hook: now for the sword!\" And pulling off\nthe mitten, he showed his red hand, and made himself known. The newsman,\ninstantly recognising him, threw himself prostrate before him to\nacknowledge him as his king. And ever since that time, \"Cahal's farewell\nto the rye,\" has been a proverb in Connaught, to denote a farewell for\never. He returned immediately with his mother to Connaught, where he was\njoyfully received, and was proclaimed king in 1190.\n\nAt this time the Anglo-Norman barons who had come over at the time of\nHenry II.'s Invasion, nearly twenty years before, had settled down in\nvarious parts of Ireland: and they were constantly encroaching on the\nlands of the Irish and erecting strong castles everywhere; while the\nIrish chiefs as we have already said, resisted as far as they were\nable, so that there was much disturbance all over the country. Cahal was\na brave and active king, and took a leading part in fighting against the\nbarons.\n\nAfter he had reigned over Connaught in peace for eight or nine years,\ntrouble came again. There was at this time, settled in Limerick, a\npowerful Anglo-Norman baron, William de Burgo, to whom a large part of\nConnaught had been granted by King Henry II. This man stirred up another\nof the O'Conors to lay claim to the throne in opposition to Cahal,\npromising to help him: and now Connaught was again all ablaze with civil\nwar. Cahal was defeated in battle, and fled to Ulster to Hugh O'Neill,\nprince of Tyrone, who took up his cause. Marching south with his own and\nO'Neill's men, he attacked his rival, but was defeated, and again fled\nnorth. He soon made a second attempt, aided this time by Sir John de\nCourcy (for whom see page 190): but he and De Courcy were caught in an\nambush in Galway by the rival king, who routed their army. In this fight\nDe Courcy very nearly lost his life, being felled senseless from his\nhorse by a stone. Recovering in good time however, he and Cahal escaped\nfrom the battlefield, and fled northwards.\n\nCahal of the Red Hand, in no way cowed by these terrible reverses, again\ntook the field, after some time, aided now by De Burgo, who had changed\nsides. A battle was fought near Roscommon, in which the rival king was\nslain; and Cahal once more took possession of the throne. From this\nperiod forward he ruled without a native rival; though a few years\nlater, he was forced to surrender a large part of his kingdom to King\nJohn, in order that he might secure possession of the remainder.\n\nBut he was as vigilant as ever in repelling all attempts of the barons\nto encroach on his diminished territory. Thus when in 1220 the De Lacys\nof Meath, a most powerful Anglo-Norman family, went to Athleague on the\nShannon at the head of Lough Ree, where there was a ford, and began to\nbuild a castle at the eastern or Leinster side, in order that they might\nhave a garrison in it always ready to attack Connaught, Cahal promptly\ncrossed the river into Longford, and so frightened them that they were\nglad to conclude a truce with him. And he broke down the castle, which\nthey had almost finished.\n\nCahal of the Red Hand was an upright and powerful king, and governed\nwith firmness and justice. The Irish Annals tell us that he relieved the\npoor as long as he lived, and that he destroyed more robbers and rebels\nand evil-doers of every kind than any other king of his time. In early\nlife he had founded the abbey of Knockmoy,[185-1] into which he retired\nin the last year of his life: and in this retreat he died in 1224.\n\n [185-1] Knockmoy in Galway, six miles from Tuam: the ruins of the\n abbey still remain.\n\n\n\n\nXLIII.\n\n\"CAHAL-MORE OF THE WINE-RED HAND.\"\n\n\nThe ancient Irish people--like those of several other\ncountries--believed that when a just and good king reigned, the country\nwas blessed with fine weather and abundant crops, the trees bended with\nfruit, the rivers teemed with fish, and the whole kingdom prospered.\nThis was the state of Connaught while Cahal of the Red Hand reigned in\npeace. And it is recorded that when he died, fearful portents appeared,\nand there was gloom and terror everywhere. James Clarence Mangan, a\nDublin poet, who died in 1849, pictures all this in the following fine\npoem. He supposes himself to be living on the river Maine, in Germany,\nand he is brought to Connaught in a vision, where he witnesses the\nprosperity that attended Cahal's reign. This he sets forth in the first\npart of the poem: but a sudden mysterious change for the worse comes,\nwhich he describes in the last two verses. The whole poem forms a wild,\nmisty sort of picture, such as one might see in a dream.[186-1]\n\n\nA VISION OF CONNAUGHT IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.\n\n I walked entranced\n Through a land of Morn;\n The sun, with wondrous excess of light,\n Shone down and glanced\n Over seas of corn\n And lustrous gardens aleft and right.\n Even in the clime\n Of resplendent Spain,\n Beams no such sun upon such a land;\n But it was the time,\n 'Twas in the reign,\n Of Cahal More of the Wine-red Hand.\n\n Anon stood nigh\n By my side a man\n Of princely aspect and port sublime.\n Him queried I,\n \"O, my Lord and Khan,[187-1]\n What clime is this, and what golden time?\"\n When he--\"The clime\n Is a clime to praise,\n The clime is Erin's, the green and bland;\n And it is the time,\n These be the days,\n Of Cahal More of the Wine-red Hand!\"\n\n Then saw I thrones,\n And circling fires,\n And a dome rose near me, as by a spell,\n Whence flowed the tones\n Of silver lyres,\n And many voices in wreath\u00e8d swell;\n And their thrilling chime\n Fell on mine ears\n As the heavenly hymn of an angel-band--\n \"It is now the time,\n These be the years,\n Of Cahal More of the Wine-red Hand!\"\n\n I sought the hall,\n And, behold!... a change\n From light to darkness, from joy to woe!\n King, nobles, all,\n Looked aghast and strange;\n The minstrel-group sate in dumbest show!\n Had some great crime\n Wrought this dread amaze,\n This terror? None seemed to understand!\n 'Twas then the time,\n We were in the days,\n Of Cahal More of the Wine-red Hand.\n\n I again walked forth;\n But lo! the sky\n Showed fleckt with blood, and an alien sun\n Glared from the north,\n And there stood on high,\n Amid his shorn beams, A SKELETON\n It was by the stream\n Of the castled Maine,\n One Autumn eve, in the Teuton's land,\n That I dreamed this dream\n Of the time and reign\n Of Cahal More of the Wine-red Hand!\n\n\n [186-1] Mangan wrote many poetical translations from the Irish, as\n well as from the German and other languages. The \"Vision\n of Connaught\" is, however, an original poem, not a\n translation.\n\n [187-1] Irish, _Ceann_ [can], meaning 'head,' one of the Gaelic\n titles for a chief.\n\n[Illustration: St. Finghin's Church, Quin, Co. Clare: originally built\nby the Irish: re-built by Thomas de Clare, the Anglo-Norman lord who\nerected Bunratty Castle (see p. 177).\n\nThe Irish began to build large churches and castles a little before the\narrival of the Anglo-Normans. The Irish churches of a previous time were\ngenerally small. After the Invasion, the Anglo-Norman barons and the\nIrish kings and chiefs vied with each other in erecting churches,\nabbeys, and castles.]\n\n\n\n\nXLIV.\n\nSIR JOHN DE COURCY.\n\n\nAmong the many Anglo-Norman lords and knights who came to settle in\nIreland in the time of Henry II., one of the most renowned was John de\nCourcy. The Welsh writer, Gerald Barry, already mentioned (p. 113), who\nlived at that time and knew him personally, thus describes him:--\n\n\"He was of huge size, tall and powerfully built, with bony and muscular\nlimbs, wonderfully active and daring, full of courage, and a bold and\nventurous soldier from his youth. He was so eager for fighting that,\nthough commanding as general, he always mingled with the foremost ranks\nin charging the enemy, which might have lost the battle; for if he\nchanced to be killed or badly wounded, there was no general able to take\nhis place. But though so fierce in war, he was gentle and modest in time\nof peace and very exact in attending to his religious devotions; and\nwhen he had gained a victory he gave all the glory to God, and took none\nto himself.\"\n\nWhen King Henry II. divided the country among his lords in 1172, he gave\nUlster to De Courcy. But it was one thing to be granted the province,\nand another thing to take possession of it; for the Ulster chiefs and\npeople were warlike and strong; and for five years De Courcy remained\nin Dublin without making any attempt to conquer it.\n\nAt length he made up his mind to try his fortune; and gathering his\nfollowers to the number of about a thousand, every man well armed and\ntrained to battle, he set out for the north. Through rugged and\ndifficult ways the party rode on, and early in the morning of the fourth\nday--the 2nd February, 1177--they arrived at Downpatrick, then the\ncapital of that part of the country. The Irish of those times never\nsurrounded their towns with walls; and the astonished Downpatrick\npeople, who knew nothing of the expedition, were startled from their\nbeds at daybreak by a mighty uproar in the streets--shouts, and the\nclatter of horses' hoofs, and the martial notes of bugles. Whatever\nlittle stock of provisions the party had brought with them was gone soon\nafter they left Dublin; and by the time they arrived at Downpatrick they\nwere half-starved. They scattered themselves everywhere, and, breaking\naway for the time from the control of their leader, they fell ravenously\non all the food they could lay their hands on: they smashed in doors and\nset fire to houses, and ate and drank and slew as if they were mad, till\nthe town was half destroyed. And the people were taken so completely by\nsurprise that there was hardly any resistance.\n\nWhen this terrible onslaught at last came to an end, De Courcy, having\nsucceeded in bringing his men together, made an encampment, which he\ncarefully fortified; and there the little army rested from their toils.\nAt the end of a week the chief of the district came with a great army to\nexpel the invaders; while De Courcy arranged his men in ranks with great\nskill, to withstand the attack. The Ulstermen who were without armour,\nwearing a loose saffron-coloured tunic over the ordinary dress,\naccording to the Irish fashion, rushed on with fearless bravery; but by\nno effort could they break the solid ranks of the armour-clad\nAnglo-Normans, who, after a long struggle put them to flight, and\npursued them for miles along the seashore.\n\nAfter this victory De Courcy settled in Downpatrick with his followers,\nand built a strong castle there for his better security. Nevertheless\nthe Ulstermen, in no way discouraged, continued their fierce attacks:\nand though he was victorious in several battles, he was defeated in\nothers, so that for a long time he had quite enough to do to hold his\nground.\n\nBut through all his difficulties the valiant De Courcy kept up his heart\nand battled bravely on, continually enlarging his territory, founding\nchurches and building strong castles all over the province. King Henry\nwas so pleased with his bravery, and with his success in extending the\nEnglish dominions, that he made him earl of Ulster and lord of\nConnaught; and in 1185 he appointed him Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.\nThis obliged him to live in Dublin; but he left captains and governors\nin Ulster to hold his castles and protect his territory, till he should\nreturn, which he did in 1189.\n\n\n\n\nXLV.\n\nHOW SIR JOHN DE COURCY WAS CAPTURED AND THROWN INTO PRISON.\n\n\nBy the death of Henry II. in 1189, Sir John de Courcy lost his best\nfriend: and things began to go ill with him when King John came to the\nthrone in 1199. For another Anglo-Norman lord, Hugh de Lacy, grew\njealous of his great deeds, and hated him with his whole heart, so that\nhe took every means to poison the king's mind against him. In a very old\nvolume, written by some Anglo-Irish writer, there are several\nentertaining stories of all that befel De Courcy after his return to\nUlster from Dublin in 1189. Two of these, somewhat shortened and\nre-arranged, are given here, and much of the fine old language in which\nthey are told is retained, as it is easily understood.\n\nThe first story relates that whereas Sir Hugh de Lacy, who was now\nappointed general ruler of Ireland by the king, did much disdain and\nenvy Sir John de Courcy, and being marvellous grieved at the worthy\nservice he did, he sought all means that he could possible to damage and\nhinder him and to bring him to confusion, and promised much rewards in\nsecret to those who would invent any matter against him; for which De\nLacy had no cause but that Sir John's actions and commendations were\nheld in greater account than his own. He feigned also false charges\nagainst him, and wrote them over to the king, and sore complained of\nhim.\n\nAmongst other his grievous complaints, he said De Courcy refused to do\nhomage to King John, and he charged him also with saying to many that\nthe king had somewhat to do with the death of Prince Arthur, lawful heir\nto the crown of England[194-1]; and many other such like things. All\nthese were nothing but matters feigned by De Lacy, to bring to a better\nend his purpose of utterly ruining De Courcy. On this De Courcy\nchallenged him, after the custom of those times, to try the matter by\nsingle combat: but De Lacy, fearing to meet him, made excuses and\nrefused.\n\n [194-1] Prince Arthur, the rightful heir to the English throne, was\n cast into prison by John: he was soon after murdered,\n which, it was believed, was done by John's orders.\n\nBy reason of such evil and envious tales, though untrue they were, Sir\nHugh de Lacy was at last commanded by King John to do what he might to\napprehend and take Sir John de Courcy. Whereupon he devised and\nconferred with certain of Sir John's own men how this might be done;\nand they said it was not possible to do so the while he was in his\nbattle-harness. But they told him that it might be done on Good Friday;\nfor on that day it was his accustomed usage to wear no shield, harness,\nor weapon, but that he would be found kneeling at his prayers, after he\nhad gone about the church five times barefooted. And having so devised,\nthey lay in wait for him in his church at Downpatrick; and when they saw\nhim barefooted and unarmed they rushed on him suddenly. But he,\nsnatching up a heavy wooden cross that stood nigh the church, defended\nhim till it was broken, and slew thirteen of them before he was taken.\nAnd so he was sent to England, and was put into the Tower of London, to\nremain there in perpetual, and there miserably was kept a long time,\nwithout as much meat or apparel as any account could be made of.\n\nNow these men had agreed to betray their master to Sir Hugh de Lacy for\na certain reward of gold and silver: and when they came to Sir Hugh for\ntheir reward, he gave them the gold and silver as he had promised. They\nthen craved of him a passport into England to tell all about the good\nservice they had done; which he gave them, with the following words\nwritten in it:--\n\n\"This writing witnesseth that those whose names are herein subscribed,\nthat did betray so good a master for reward, will be false to me and to\nall the earth besides. And inasmuch as I put no trust in them, I do\nbanish them out of this land of Ireland for ever; and I do let\nEnglishmen know that none of them may enjoy any part of this our king's\nland, or be employed as servitors from this forward for ever.\"\n\n[Illustration: Ennis Abbey as it appeared in 1780: now carefully\npreserved by the Board of Works. Built by Donogh O'Brien, king of\nThomond, in 1242. See the note under Illustration, p. 189.]\n\nAnd so he wrote all their names, and put them in a ship with victuals\nand furniture, but without mariners or seamen, and put them to sea, and\ngave them strict charge never to return to Ireland on pain of death. And\nafter this they were not heard of for a long time; but by chance of\nweather and lack of skilful men, they arrived at Cork, and being taken,\nwere brought to Sir Hugh de Lacy; and first taking all their treasure\nfrom them, he hung them in chains, and so left them till their bodies\nwasted away.\n\nThis deed, that Sir Hugh de Lacy did, was for an ensample that none\nshould use himself the like, and not for love of Sir John de Courcy:\nsince it appeareth from certain ancient authors that he would have it so\nas that De Courcy's name should not be so much as mentioned, and that no\nreport or commendation of him should ever be made.\n\n\n\n\nXLVI.\n\nSIR JOHN DE COURCY ACCEPTS A CHALLENGE.\n\n\nAnd now Sir John de Courcy, being in the Tower in evil plight, cried\noften to God why He suffered him to be thus so miserably used, who did\nbuild so many good abbeys, and did so many good deeds to God: and thus\noften lamenting with himself, he asked God his latter end to finish.\n\nIt fortuned after this that much variance and debate did grow between\nKing John of England and King Philip of France,[197-1] about a certain\ncastle which the king of France won from King John. And when King Philip\nhad often been asked to restore it he refused, saying it was his by\nright. But at last he offered to try the matter by battle. For he had a\nchampion, a mighty man, who had never been beaten; and he challenged the\nking of England to find, on his side, a champion to fight him, and let\nthe title to the castle depend on the issue thereof; to which King John,\nmore hasty than well advised, did agree.\n\n [197-1] At this time the kings of England had a large territory in\n France so that quarrels often arose between them and the\n French kings.\n\nAnd when the day of battle was appointed, the king of England called\ntogether his Council to find out where a champion might be found that\nwould take upon him this honour and weighty enterprise. Many places they\nsought and inquired of, but no one was found that was willing to engage\nin so perilous a matter. And the king was in a great agony, fearing more\nthe dishonour of the thing than the loss of the castle.\n\nAt length a member of the Council came to the king and told him that\nthere was a man in the Tower of London, one De Courcy, that in all the\nearth was not his peer, if he would only fight. The king was much\nrejoiced thereat, and sent unto him to require and command him to take\nthe matter in hand: but Sir John refused. The king sent again and\noffered him great gifts; but again he refused, saying he would never\nserve the king in field any more; for he thought himself evil rewarded\nfor such service as he did him before. The king sent to him a third\ntime, and bade him ask whatever he would, for himself and for his\nfriends, and all should be granted to him: and he said furthermore that\nupon his stalworth and knightly doings the honour of the realm of\nEngland did rest and depend.\n\nHe answered that for himself, the thing he would wish to ask for, King\nJohn was not able to give, namely, the lightness and freedom of heart\nthat he once had, but which the king's unkind dealing had taken from\nhim. As for his friends, he said that, saving a few, they were all slain\nin the king's service; \"and for these reasons,\" said he, \"I mean never\nto serve the king more. But\"--he went on to say--\"the honour of the\nrealm of England, that is another matter: and I would defend it so far\nas lies in my power, provided I might have such things as I shall ask\nfor.\"\n\nThis was promised to him, and the king sent messengers to set him at\nliberty; who, when they had entered into his prison, found him in great\nmisery. His hair was all matted, and overgrew his shoulders to his\nwaist; he had scarce any apparel, and the little he had fell in rags\nover his great body; and his face was hollow from close confinement and\nfor lack of food.\n\nAfter all things that he required had been granted to him, he asked for\none thing more, namely, that his sword should be sent for all the way to\nDownpatrick in Ireland, where it would be found within the altar of the\nchurch; for with that weapon he said he would fight and with no other.\nAfter much delay it was brought to him; and when they saw it and felt\nits weight, they marvelled that any man could wield it. And good food\nwas given to him, and seemly raiment, and he had due exercise, and in\nall things he was cherished and made much of; so that his strength of\nbody and stoutness of heart returned to him.\n\n\n\n\nXLVII.\n\nSIR JOHN DE COURCY AND THE FRENCH CHAMPION.\n\n\nThe lists were enclosed and all things were prepared against the day of\nbattle. The two kings were there, outside the lists, with most of their\nnobility, and thousands of great people to look on, all sitting on seats\nplaced high up for good view. Within the lists were two tents for the\nchampions, where they might rest till the time appointed. And men were\nchosen to see that all things were carried on fairly and in good order.\n\nWhen the time drew nigh, the French champion came forth on the field,\nand did his duty of obeisance, and bowed with reverence and courtesy to\nall around, and went back to his tent, where he waited for half an hour.\nThe king of England sent for Sir John to come forth, for that the French\nchampion rested a long time awaiting his coming; to which he answered\nroughly that he would come forth when he thought it was time. And when\nhe still delayed, the king sent one of his Council to desire him to make\nhaste, to which he made answer:--\"If thou or those kings were invited to\nsuch a banquet, you would make no great haste coming forth to partake of\nit.\"\n\nOn this the king, deeming that he was not going to fight at all, was\nabout to depart in a great rage, thinking much evil of Sir John de\nCourcy. While he was thus musing, Sir John came forth in surly mood, for\nmemory of all the ill usage that had been wrought on him; and he stalked\nstraight on, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and doing no\nreverence to anyone: and so back to his tent.\n\nThen the trumpets sounded the first charge, for the champions to\napproach. Forth they came, and passing by slowly, viewed each other\nintently without a word. And when the foreign champion noted De Courcy's\nfierce look, and measured with his eyes his great stature and mighty\nlimbs, he was filled with dread and fell all a-trembling. At length the\ntrumpets sounded the last charge for the fight to begin; on which De\nCourcy quickly drew his sword and advanced; but the Frenchman, turning\nright round, \"ranne awaie off the fielde and betooke him to Spaine.\"\n\nWhereupon the English trumpets sounded victory; and there was such\nshouting and cheering, such a-clapping of hands and such a-throwing of\ncaps in the air as the like was never seen before.\n\nWhen the multitude became quiet, King Philip desired of King John that\nDe Courcy might be called before them to give a trial of his strength by\na blow upon a helmet: to which De Courcy agreed. They fixed a great\nstake of timber in the ground, standing up the height of a man, over\nwhich they put a shirt of mail, with a helmet on top. And when all was\nready, De Courcy, drawing his sword, looked at the kings with a grim and\nterrible look that fearful it was to behold; after which he struck such\na blow as cut clean through the helmet and through the shirt of mail,\nand down deep in the piece of timber. And so fast was the sword fixed\nthat no man in the assembly, using his two hands with the utmost effort,\ncould pluck it out; but Sir John, taking it in one hand, drew it forth\neasily.\n\nThe princes, marvelling at so huge a stroke, desired to understand why\nhe looked so terrible at them before he struck the blow: on which he\nanswered:--\n\n\"I call St. Patrick of Down to witness, that if I had missed the mark I\nwould have cut the heads off both of you kings on the score of all the\nill usage I received aforetime at your hands.\"\n\nKing John, being satisfied with all matters as they turned out, took his\nanswer in good part: and he gave him back all the dominions that before\nhe had in Ireland, as Earl of Ulster and lord of Connaught; and\nlicensed him to return, with many great gifts besides. And to this day\nthe people of Ireland hold in memory Sir John de Courcy and his mighty\ndeeds; and the ruins of many great castles builded by him are to be seen\nall over Ulster.\n\n\n\n\nXLVIII.\n\nTHE GREAT EARL OF KILDARE AND THE EARL OF ORMOND.\n\n\nThe great lords who settled in Ireland in the time of Henry II. became\nso powerful that they ruled in the land like so many kings. It was so\nhard to reach Ireland in those times, or even to get from one part of\nIreland to another, that their master, the king of England, had\ngenerally very little control over them: and he often found it hard\nenough even to find out what was going on among them. So those mighty\nbarons did very much as they liked. They imposed taxes, raised armies,\nand made war on each other, just as if they were independent sovereigns.\n\nThe Fitzgeralds, or Geraldines, were among the most illustrious of those\nfamilies. They intermarried with the families of the native Irish kings\nand princes, such as the O'Neills and O'Conors; and altogether they fell\nin so well with the ways of the country, that the Irish people came to\nlove them almost better than they loved their own old native kings and\nchiefs. And for hundreds of years those Geraldines took a leading part\nin the government of Ireland for the kings of England.\n\nIn the time of Henry VII., who became king in the year 1485, Garrett\nFitzgerald, earl of Kildare--the \"Great Earl\" as he was called--was Lord\nDeputy, or chief ruler of Ireland, for the king: and he was the leading\nman of his day in Ireland.[204-1] We are told in the old accounts of him\nthat he was tall of stature, of goodly presence, very liberal and\nmerciful; of strict piety; mild in his government; very easily put into\na passion, but just as easily appeased; a knight in valour, and princely\nin his words and judgments.\n\n [204-1] A further account of the Great Earl, and of some of his\n proceedings, will be found in the \"Child's History of\n Ireland.\"\n\nOnce he got into a great rage with one of his servants for some blunder.\nIt happened that two of the gentlemen of his household were looking on:\nand one of them whispered to the other, whose name was Boice, that he\nwould give him a good Irish hobby if he went and plucked a hair out of\nthe earl's beard. Boice took him at his offer, and knowing well the\nearl's good nature, he went up to him, while he still fumed with anger,\nand said:--\n\n\"If so it please your good lordship, one of your horsemen promised me a\nchoice horse if I snip one hair from your beard.\" \"Well,\" quoth the\nearl, \"I agree thereto; but if you pluck more than one, I promise you to\nbring my fist away from your ear!\"\n\nAnd Boice plucked the hair, and won the hobby: but he took good care to\npluck only one, so that his ear escaped the earl's big fist.\n\nAt this time the chief man of the Butlers was James, earl of Ormond: and\nhe and the Deputy were at enmity, each working with might and main to\nput down the other. The earl of Ormond, who was a deep and far reaching\nman, not being strong enough to oppose his adversary openly, devised a\nplan to entrap him by means of submission and courtesy. Certain charges\nhad, it seems, been made against Ormond, and he now wrote to the deputy,\nwho was, of course, in authority over him, asking permission to come to\nDublin to disprove them; which the deputy granted. Accordingly, in the\nyear 1492, he marched to Dublin with a numerous army, and encamped near\nthe city.\n\nNow Kildare's councillors, and the citizens in general, disliked the\npresence of so great an army, suspecting some evil design: and besides,\nthe soldiers used the people ill, often beating and robbing them; so\nthat instead of peace, this visit of Ormond made all the greater\ndiscord. Yet still, with an air of great respect and humility, he\npersisted in asking to be heard, saying he would show that the evil\nstories about him were all false. At length, Lord Deputy Kildare\nagreed, and the meeting was held in St. Patrick's Church.\n\nBut this meeting was not a quiet or peaceful one; for the two earls,\ninstead of speaking gentle words of forgiveness, began to accuse each\nother of all the damages inflicted on both sides. The citizens too, who\nwere in great crowds around the church, complained with loud voices of\nall the ill usage they had suffered from the soldiers; whereupon they\nand the soldiers fell to jars and quarrels, and the whole city was soon\nin an uproar. At last, a body of Dublin archers, enraged that such a\ndisturbance should be raised by \"this lawless rabble,\" rushed into the\nchurch, shouting out that they would kill Ormond, as the leader of them,\nand they shot at random hither and thither, leaving their arrows\nsticking in the timbers and ornaments of the church, but doing no harm\notherwise. It is probable, indeed, that out of respect to the place,\nnotwithstanding their rage, they took care to shoot over the heads of\nthe crowd, so as to kill no one.\n\nOn this, the Earl of Ormond, fearing with good reason for his safety,\nfled with a few of his followers to the chapter-house, and slamming the\ndoor, bolted and barred it strongly. Kildare followed and called to him\nto come out, promising upon his honour that he should receive no harm.\nOrmond replied that he would come forth if the deputy gave him his hand\nthat his life should be safe; so \"a cleft was pierced in a trice\nthrough the chapter-house door,\" to the end that the earls might shake\nhands and be reconciled. But Ormond, still suspecting treachery, refused\nto put forth his hand, fearing it might be chopped off, till at last\nKildare stretched in his arm to him through the hole, and they shook\nhands. Then the door was opened and the two earls embraced, and the\nstorm was appeased.\n\n[Illustration: Old Chapter-house Door, now in St. Patrick's Cathedral,\nDublin.]\n\nBut though this quarrel was patched up, it was only for the time.\nKildare suspected that Ormond had brought his army with evil intent \"to\noutface him and his power in his own countrie\"; while \"Ormond mistrusted\nthat this treacherous practice of the Dublinians was by Kildare\ndevised.\" So that, as the old writer goes on to say, \"their quarrels\nwere not ended, but only for the present discontinued: like unto a green\nwound, rather bungerlie botcht, than soundlie cured. And these and the\nlike surmises, with many stories carried to and fro, and in their ears\nwhispered, bred and fostered a malice betwixt them and their posterity,\nmany years incurable, which caused much stir and unquietnesse in the\nrealm.\"\n\nThe old chapter-house door, which is pictured on last page, still\nremains in St. Patrick's Cathedral, where it may be seen leaning against\none of the walls, with the very \"cleft\" in it through which the two\nearls shook hands more than four hundred years ago.\n\n\n\n\nXLIX.\n\nANCIENT IRISH MUSIC.\n\n\nFrom the most remote times the Irish took great pleasure in music: and\nthey studied and cultivated it so successfully that they became\ncelebrated every where for their musical skill. Irish teachers of this\nart were thought so highly of that from about the seventh to the\neleventh century, or later, they were employed in colleges and schools\nin Great Britain and on the Continent, like Irish professors of other\nbranches of learning (see p. 47). Many of the early missionaries took\ngreat delight in playing on the harp, so that some brought a small harp\nwith them on their journeys through the country, which no doubt\nlightened many a weary hour at their homes in the evenings, during the\ntime of hard missionary work. In our oldest manuscript books, music is\ncontinually mentioned: and musicians are spoken of with respect and\nadmiration.\n\nThe two chief instruments used in Ireland were the harp and the bagpipe.\nThe harp was the favourite with the higher classes, many of whom played\nit as an accomplishment, as people now play the piano. The professional\nIrish harpers were more skilful, and could play better, than those of\nany other country: so that for hundreds of years it was the custom for\nthe musicians of Great Britain to visit Ireland in order to finish their\nmusical education; a custom which continued down to about a century and\na-half ago.\n\nThe bagpipe was very generally used among the lower classes of people.\nThe form in use was what we now call the Highland or Scotch pipes--slung\nfrom the shoulder: the bag inflated by the mouth. But this form of pipes\ntook its rise in Ireland: and it was brought to Scotland in early ages\nby those Irish colonists already spoken of (page 5). There is another\nand a better kind of bagpipes, now common in Ireland, resting on the lap\nwhen in use, and having the bag inflated by a bellows: but this is a\nlate invention.\n\nThe Irish musicians had various \"_Styles_,\" three of which are very\noften mentioned in tales and other ancient Irish writings: of these many\nspecimens have come down to the present day. The style they called\n\"Mirth-music\" consisted of lively airs, which excited to merriment and\nlaughter. These are represented by our present dance tunes, such as\njigs, reels, hornpipes, and other such quick, spirited pieces which are\nknown so well in every part of Ireland. The \"Sorrow-music\" was slow and\nsad, and was always sung on the occasion of a death. We have many airs\nbelonging to this style, which are now commonly called _Keens_, i.e.,\nlaments, or dirges. The \"Sleep-music\" was intended to produce sleep; and\nthe tunes belonging to this style were plaintive and soothing. Such airs\nare now known as lullabies, or nurse tunes, or cradle songs, of which\nnumerous examples are preserved in collections of Irish music. They were\noften sung to put children to sleep. Though there are, as has been said,\nmany tunes belonging to these three classes, they form only a small part\nof the great body of Irish music.\n\nMusic entered into many of the daily occupations of the people. There\nwere special spinning-wheel songs, which the women sang, with words, in\nchorus or in dialogue, when employed in spinning. At milking time the\ngirls were in the habit of chanting a particular sort of air, in a low\ngentle voice. These milking songs were slow and plaintive, something\nlike the nurse tunes, and had the effect of soothing the cows and of\nmaking them submit more gently to be milked. This practice was common\ndown to fifty or sixty years ago; and many people now living can\nremember seeing cows grow restless when the song was interrupted, and\nbecome again quiet and placid when it was resumed. While ploughmen were\nat their work they whistled a sweet, slow, and sad strain, which had as\npowerful an effect in soothing the horses at their hard work as the\nmilking songs had on the cows: and these also were quite usual till\nabout half a century ago.\n\nSpecial airs and songs were used during working time by smiths, by\nweavers, and by boatmen. There were besides, hymn tunes; and young\npeople had simple airs for all sorts of games and sports. In most cases\nwords suitable to the several occasions were sung with lullabies,\nlaments, and occupation tunes. The poem at page 82 may be taken as a\nspecimen of a lament. Examples of all the preceding classes of melodies\nwill be found in the collections of Irish airs by Bunting, Petrie, and\nJoyce.\n\nThe Irish had numerous war-marches, which the pipers played at the head\nof the clansmen when marching to battle, and which inspired them with\ncourage and dash for the fight. This custom is still kept up by the\nScotch; and many fine battle-tunes are printed in Irish and Scotch\ncollections of national music.\n\nFrom the preceding statement we may see how universal was the love of\nmusic in former days among the people of Ireland. Though Irish airs,\ncompared with the musical pieces composed in our time, are generally\nshort and simple, they are constructed with such skill, that in regard\nto most of them it may be truly said that no composer of the present\nday can produce airs of a similar kind to equal them.\n\nThere are half a dozen original collections of Irish music, containing\nin all between 1000 and 2000 airs: other collections are mostly copied\nfrom these. But numerous airs are still sung and played among the people\nall through Ireland, which have never been written down; and many have\nbeen written down which have never been printed. Thomas Moore composed\nhis beautiful songs to old Irish airs; and his whole collection of songs\nand airs--well known as \"Moore's Melodies\"--is now published in one\nsmall cheap volume.\n\nOf the entire body of Irish airs that are preserved, we know the authors\nof not more than about one tenth; and these were composed within the\nlast 200 years. Most of the remaining nine tenths have come down from\nold times. No one now can tell who composed \"The Coolin,\" \"Savourneen\nDheelish,\" \"Shule Aroon,\" \"Molly Asthore,\" \"Garryowen,\" \"The Boyne\nWater,\" \"Patrick's Day,\" \"Langolee,\" \"The Blackbird,\" or \"The Girl I\nleft behind me\"; and so of many other well-known and lovely airs.\n\nThe national music of Ireland and that of Scotland are very like each\nother, and many airs are common to both countries: but this is only what\nmight be expected, as we know that the Irish and the Highland Scotch\nwere originally one people.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES AND EXPLANATIONS.\n\n\nI.--Page 1.\n\n Ancient, very old, belonging to old times.\n\n Fabulous, not true.\n\n Magician, one skilled in magic or witchcraft; an enchanter.\n\n Spell, a charm, something done by enchantment.\n\n Wizard, an enchanter, a magician.\n\n Consult, to advise with.\n\n Druid. The druids were the learned men among the pagan Irish: they\n were believed to be wizards, or magicians.\n\n Seer, one who can foresee events, a prophet.\n\n Destiny, lot, what is to come to pass.\n\n Wistfully, thoughtfully, attentively, longingly.\n\n Cairn, a great pile of stones heaped up in memory of some person or\n some event. A cairn was very often raised over the grave of some\n important person. See page 97.\n\n Missionary, one sent to preach religion.\n\n Hostage, a person given as a pledge, or security, for carrying out\n some agreement.\n\n Possessing mighty power over people, able to persuade them by his\n earnestness and his powerful language.\n\nII.--Page 7.\n\n Gallantly, boldly, bravely.\n\n Destined home: the druid had foretold that Inisfail, or the Isle of\n Destiny, was to be their final home.\n\n Emerald, a precious stone of a green colour. Ireland, from its\n greenness, is often called the Emerald Isle.\n\n Day god, the sun. Some of the pagan Irish worshipped the sun.\n\n Omen, a sign of what is to come.\n\n\nIII.--Page 8.\n\n Perpetual, lasting always.\n\n Allure, to entice, coax, or persuade.\n\n Book of the Dun Cow: see page 118.\n\n Conn the Hundred-fighter, or, as he is often called, Conn of the\n Hundred Battles, was King of Ireland from A.D. 177 to 212.\n\n Crystal, a sort of transparent mineral: glass, or anything like\n glass.\n\n Marvelled, wondered.\n\n Chant, a slow, sweet song.\n\n Azure, a bright blue.\n\n Verdurous, green, full of verdure.\n\n Imprecation, a curse.\n\n Mace, here means a heavy-headed club used in fighting, generally for\n striking.\n\n\nIV.--Page 14.\n\n Noxious, hurtful, injurious.\n\n Gigantic, very large, giant-like.\n\n Fertile, fruitful, yielding good crops.\n\n Wickerwork, basket-work of woven twigs.\n\n Hospitality, kindness to strangers, free and generous entertainment\n of visitors.\n\n Expensive, costly.\n\n Establishment, the whole house, and all belonging to it.\n\n Liberal, plentiful.\n\n Gorget, an ornamental collar for the neck: the Irish gorgets were\n mostly of gold.\n\n Bronze, a mixed metal made of copper and tin melted together. The\n ancient Irish used a sort of white or whitish bronze, which they\n called _findruine_ [_finn\u00b4-drin-a_].\n\n Enamel, a beautiful glassy substance, of various colours, used in\n metal work.\n\n Museum, a place where curiosities of all kinds are kept, especially\n objects belonging to ancient times.\n\n Artificer, an artist, a worker in metals, bone, wood, &c.\n\n Old Irish Laws: these were called the Brehon Laws.\n\n Commerce, trade with foreign nations.\n\n\nV.--Page 22.\n\n Enmity, hatred, malice, ill feeling.\n\n Gall, bitterness and sourness of heart.\n\n Treachery, breach of faith, wickedness.\n\n Chariot, a kind of carriage.\n\n Druidical, made by the druids, who were believed to be enchanters,\n like the Dedannans.\n\n Clamorous, noisy, screaming.\n\n Repented, grew sorry.\n\n Gaelic speech, the Irish language, which all the people of Ireland\n then spoke.\n\n Plaintive, sad.\n\n Lay, a song, a poem.\n\n A husk of gore, withered up with grief.\n\n Anguish, great trouble and misery.\n\n Anthem, a song, a hymn: anthem of praise, _i.e._ of praise to God.\n\n\nVI.--Page 27.\n\n Amazement, astonishment, wonder.\n\n Horror, terror mixed with dislike.\n\n Lamentation, great sorrow.\n\n Malignant, full of evil and badness.\n\n Adventurous, spirited, daring, courageous.\n\n Abhor, to hate, to detest, to have a horror of.\n\n Transform, to change the form or shape.\n\n Society, company.\n\n The dreadful day of doom, \"that day of woe,\" _i.e._ the Day of\n Judgment. The children of Lir had some obscure foreknowledge of\n the coming of Christianity.\n\n Desolate, waste and solitary.\n\n Tempestuous, stormy.\n\n\nVII.--Page 32.\n\n Abode, a dwelling.\n\n Plight, an evil and unpleasant state.\n\n Endure, to bear, to suffer.\n\n Chain of repose: as if the breezes were bound down and kept at rest\n by a chain.\n\n Darkness: the darkness of paganism.\n\n Pure light, and Day star: Christianity.\n\n Wreathed, twisted, curled.\n\n Hazel-mead, a kind of mead with hazel nuts put into it to flavour\n it. For mead, see p. 17.\n\n Lullaby, a nurse song: a song to put a person to sleep; see p. 210.\n\n Mannanan, or Mannanan Mac Lir, a Dedannan chief, the Pagan Irish god\n of the sea.\n\n Angus, a Dedannan or fairy chief, who had his palace under one of\n the great mounds on the Boyne between Drogheda and Slane.\n\n\nVIII.--Page 39.\n\n Matin time, very early in the morning: before day: the time of\n first prayer.\n\n Anchoret, a hermit.\n\n Matins, very early morning prayers.\n\n Transformed, changed, turned.\n\n Waxed, grew, became: waxed very wroth, became very angry.\n\n Cleric, a clergyman.\n\n Radiant, bright, joyful, happy looking.\n\n Lament, a sort of sad song.\n\n\nIX.--Page 45.\n\n Enlightenment, knowledge, education, intelligence.\n\n Community, a number of persons living together in the same dwelling\n or in the same place.\n\n Encounter, to meet with, to go against.\n\n Interpreter, a person who explains in one language what a speaker\n says in another. The interpreter has to know both languages.\n\n\nX.--Page 50.\n\n Rampart, a wall or high bank for defence.\n\n Structure, a building.\n\n Household, all the people that live in one house.\n\n Standard, a pole with a flag, banner, or colours, on top.\n\n Transfer, to change from one to another.\n\n Romantic stories, tales of fictitious adventures.\n\n Diadem, a crown, or a band like a crown, worn round the head.\n\n Spell of feebleness, weakness brought on by some sort of\n enchantment.\n\n\nXI.--Page 55.\n\n Pondering, thinking deeply.\n\n Meet, fit, proper, becoming.\n\n Ultonians, the Ulstermen.\n\n Gainsay, to speak against, to contradict.\n\n Ridge of the world, a usual expression in Irish writings.\n\n Gracious, kind and gentle in manner.\n\n Attendant, a person who attends, a servant.\n\n Military service, service as soldiers under pay.\n\n Betimes, in good time, early.\n\n Booth, a hut or tent.\n\n\nXII.--Page 60.\n\n Pledge, security.\n\n Submission, yielding, coming under a person's authority.\n\n Knighthood. Knight, a soldier of high dignity: a champion:\n knighthood, the dignity of a knight. The ancient Irish often\n received knighthood at seven years of age.\n\n Obligation, a promise, a bond, something one is bound to do.\n\n Galley, a low flat vessel with oars and sails.\n\n Chessboard, a board with black and white squares on which chess was\n played. The ancient Irish were very fond of chess.\n\n Re-assure, to make a person sure that things are right, to\n encourage.\n\n\nXIII.--Page 66.\n\n Resort, to go often to a place.\n\n Curragh, a light boat made of wickerwork covered with hides.\n\n Persist, to continue without ceasing.\n\n Perplexity, doubt, anxiety of mind.\n\n Clan, a number of families or a race of people all more or less\n related to each other.\n\n Slieve Fuad, a mountain near Newtownhamilton in Armagh: the name is\n now forgotten.\n\n Baleful, evil, very bad or wicked.\n\n Disaster, mishap, misfortune.\n\n Meditate, to plan, to intend.\n\n Handwood, a piece of wood to serve as a knocker, kept in a niche\n outside the door.\n\n Battalion, a body of foot soldiers.\n\n Alluring, very good, tempting a person to eat.\n\n Viands, food, victuals.\n\n\nXIV.--Page 72.\n\n Looming, appearing darkly and dimly in the distance.\n\n Steadfast, firm, fixed, determined.\n\n Valorous, brave, fearless, valiant.\n\n Your dear charge, Deirdre.\n\n Assailants, persons assailing or attacking.\n\n Misgivings, doubts and fears of something wrong.\n\n Unwittingly, without knowing.\n\n Unerring, with a straight aim so as not to miss.\n\n\nXV.--Page 75.\n\n Hireling troops, soldiers serving for pay: they were not Ultonians\n and did not belong to the Red Branch. The troops of the Red\n Branch could not be got to attack the Sons of Usna.\n\n Shouts of defiance, shouts challenging and threatening.\n\n Assault, a violent attack.\n\n Marshalling, arranging.\n\n Treason, treachery, foul play.\n\n Circuit, a journey around.\n\n Fissure, a split or chasm.\n\n Solemn, awful, serious, grave.\n\n Response, answer, reply.\n\n\nXVI.--Page 80.\n\n Deeming, believing, thinking.\n\n Onslaught, a fierce attack.\n\n Mannanan Mac Lir, the Pagan Irish sea-god.\n\n\nXVII.--Page 84.\n\n Billows of war, the tide or onward press of battle.\n\n Wreak, to inflict, to execute.\n\n\nXVIII.--Page 85.\n\n Incensed, very angry.\n\n Anguish, great grief, pain.\n\n Descendants, children, grand-children, &c.\n\n Spoil, to plunder and pillage.\n\n Illustrious, famous, noble, great.\n\n Marauding, plundering, robbing.\n\n Ravage, to lay waste and plunder.\n\n\nXIX.--Page 87.\n\n Magic, witchcraft, spells.\n\n Mighty, of wonderful skill.\n\n Distinguish, to tell one from another.\n\n Shadowy, uncertain, legendary.\n\n Historic times, when there are true accounts of things that\n happened.\n\n Professional, following some profession or calling.\n\n Remuneration, payment, salary.\n\n Attached, joined to.\n\n\nXX.--Page 89.\n\n Reverently, with great respect.\n\n Gaelic, the Irish language.\n\n Lore, learning.\n\n Injunction, an order or charge, an advice that should be followed.\n\n Extract, to take out.\n\n Devotedly, with great and anxious care.\n\n Balm, a sort of ointment that soothes pain and cures.\n\n Sentiments, thoughts, feelings.\n\n Comparatively late, late compared with older times.\n\n Predecessor, one who held an office or place before another.\n\n\nXXI.--Page 92.\n\n Tradition, accounts handed down from generation to generation.\n\n Provincial, belonging to one of the five provinces of Ireland.\n\n Tests, trials.\n\n Entertaining, amusing, diverting.\n\n Festive, joyous, gay, with feasts.\n\n Sedge, a kind of coarse grass.\n\n Keating: the Rev. Doctor Geoffry Keating, who wrote, in Irish, a\n well known History of Ireland, full of old stories: died 1644.\n\n Oppression, cruelty, tyranny, hardship.\n\n Suppress, to put down.\n\n Exact, to make people pay.\n\n An Irish poet: Thomas Darcy M'Gee.\n\n Seers: among the Milesians were a good many druids, seers, or\n prophets.\n\n Strath, the level land along a river at both sides; an _inch_.\n\n Mystic forts, the forts mentioned at page 16: mystic, mysterious.\n\n Cairn-crowned hills. Many hills have cairns on top, round which the\n people often held council meetings.\n\n Elk, very large deer. Elk resorts, places frequented by elks.\n\n Modern, belonging to the present time.\n\n Unconquerably, such that he could not be conquered.\n\n Untarnished, unstained, pure, with out a spot.\n\n\nXXII.--Page 98.\n\n Plaintive, sad, pitiful.\n\n Hesitation, pause, delay.\n\n Palsy, a sort of sickness that causes shivering or shaking.\n\n Litter, a sort of bed in which a person is carried.\n\n Tumult, great noise and confusion.\n\n\nXXIII.--Page 103.\n\n Revered, regarded with love, honour, and respect.\n\n Distinguished, eminent, honoured.\n\n Community, a number of persons living together.\n\n Permanent, lasting.\n\n Veneration, love and great respect.\n\n Applicant, a person who applies.\n\n Abbess, the head nun of a convent.\n\n\nXXIV.--Page 107.\n\n Humility, humbleness, lowliness of mind.\n\n Domestic occupations, the work of the house.\n\n Sward, a grassy place.\n\n Reputation, fame, a great name.\n\n Corresponded with her, wrote letters to her, and received replies.\n\n Chariot, a kind of carriage.\n\n Reproachfully, blaming her severely.\n\n Universe, the whole world.\n\n\nXXV.--Page 111.\n\n Grave, sober, thoughtful.\n\n Unassuming, modest, not forward.\n\n Talents, great cleverness.\n\n Discipline, strict rules and regulations.\n\n Illustrious, eminent, noble, famous.\n\n Detailed, exact, giving all particulars.\n\n Consolation, comfort, a lightening of trouble.\n\n Magnificent, grand, splendid.\n\n Shrine, an ornamental tomb or box: sometimes applied to a small\n church.\n\n Commemorate, to keep in memory.\n\n Gerald Barry, better known as \"Giraldus Cambrensis,\" _i.e._ Gerald\n the Welshman (Cambria, one of the old names of Wales).\n\n Fane, a temple, a church.\n\n Long ages of darkness and storm: _i.e._ of wars and troubles.\n\n\nXXVI.--Page 114.\n\n Scribe, a writer: a person who made it the chief business of his\n life to copy books.\n\n Expert, skilful, ready.\n\n Accomplished, very skilful.\n\n Devoted, given up to earnestly, attached.\n\n Interlaced, woven in and out.\n\n Magnifying glass, a glass that makes things seen through it seem\n large.\n\n Composition, a piece of writing, a book.\n\n Library, a collection of books.\n\n Dun, brown.\n\n St. Kieran, or more properly Ciaran, lived in the sixth century.\n\n Clonmacnoise on the Shannon, below Athlone, containing the ruins of\n what was once a great monastery and college, founded by St.\n Kieran.\n\n\nXXVII.--Page 120.\n\n Watch and ward: ward means guard: he stood sentinel.\n\n Scared, frightened.\n\n Humorous, full of humour or fun.\n\n\nXXVIII.--Page 123.\n\n\n Stud, a number of horses all kept in one place.\n\n Vicious, wicked, spiteful.\n\n Conan Mail, or Conan the bald: the Fena were always making fun of\n him, for he was big, fat, gluttonous, a great boast, a great\n coward, and had an evil tongue.\n\n Unconcernedly, not caring a bit.\n\n Perplexity, difficulty and doubt.\n\n Horrible, hateful.\n\n\nXXIX.--Page 129.\n\n Took counsel, they advised with one another to know what was best\n to be done.\n\n Explore, to search.\n\n Dizzy, enough to make one's head giddy.\n\n Pillar-stone, a tall stone standing up, such as we often see in\n Ireland.\n\n Host, a large body of soldiers.\n\n Decoration, an ornament.\n\n Chase, to ornament with thin coatings of metal on the surface.\n\n Enamelled, ornamented as if with enamel.\n\n\nXXX.--Page 132.\n\n Wizard champion, a champion having something of the nature of a\n wizard or enchanter.\n\n Circlet, a long thin plate often worn around the head and forehead.\n\n Determination, a firm resolution to conquer.\n\n Chafe, to vex.\n\n Trophy, a prize taken from an enemy in battle.\n\n Poise, to balance.\n\n Scowl, to frown darkly and wickedly.\n\n Terrify, to frighten.\n\n\nXXXI.--Page 139.\n\n Advantages, benefits, gains.\n\n Diligent, industrious, hard-working.\n\n Uninhabited, having no people living in it.\n\n Presence, appearance.\n\n Luminous, bright, sparkling.\n\n Enlightenment, knowledge, learning, instruction.\n\n Civilise, to refine, to educate, to bring people to live in a decent\n and proper way.\n\n Doctrine, teaching, belief, faith.\n\n Structure, a building.\n\n Venerable, old and greatly loved and respected.\n\n Incessant, without ceasing, continual.\n\n Occupation, employment, work.\n\n His relative the king of that part of Scotland: the royal families\n of Ireland and Scotland were related to each other (see pp. 5 and\n 6), and Columkille was related to both.\n\n\nXXXII.--Page 145.\n\n Voluntary, by his own choice.\n\n Ben Edar, Howth, near Dublin.\n\n Embarking, going on board ship.\n\n Seniors, elderly persons.\n\n Hospice, the part of a monastery set apart for the entertainment of\n travellers.\n\n Intently, with close attention.\n\n\nXXXIII.--Page 150.\n\n Heptarchy means seven kingdoms: for at this time England was\n divided into seven parts with a king over each.\n\n Relations, connexion, friendship.\n\n Diligence, industry, working steadily.\n\n Intimacy, close friendship.\n\n Foster-son. When a man reared up and educated among his family a boy\n belonging to another family, he was the foster-father, and the boy\n was his foster-son.\n\n Bondage, slavery.\n\n Restoration, restoring, giving back.\n\n Marauders, robbers, plunderers.\n\n Intercession, pleading for.\n\n Unfettered of any, not under any other province.\n\n Redundance, more than enough, great plenty.\n\n Historians recording truth: to record truth is the chief merit of a\n historian.\n\n Bulwark, a safeguard: \"Ireland's bulwark,\" because Tara was in\n Meath.\n\n Sooth, truth.\n\n\nXXXIV.--Page 155.\n\n Directions, orders, instructions.\n\n Revellers, persons feasting, drinking, and making merry.\n\n Sack, to plunder and destroy.\n\n\nXXXV.--Page 158.\n\n Extraordinary, very strange, wonderful.\n\n Keel, the bottom part of a ship or boat.\n\n Astounding, astonishing, wonderful.\n\n Oarstroke of the curragh, about 20 feet.\n\n Circumference, the whole round.\n\n Extending, stretching.\n\n Meshes, the open spaces between the threads of a net.\n\n\nXXXVI.--Page 162.\n\n Reconcile, to become friends again, to come back to friendship.\n\n Recognise, to know a thing again.\n\n Prow, the head or fore part of a ship or boat.\n\n Affliction, trouble and sorrow.\n\n Reception, receiving or entertaining.\n\n Reveal, to show, to make known.\n\n\nXXXVII.--Page 164.\n\n Liefer, rather.\n\n Let be this purpose, let it lie by, don't attend to it, don't carry\n it out: _i.e._ the purpose of revenge.\n\n I let him be, I let him alone.\n\n A tithe, a tenth part.\n\n\nXXXVIII.--Page 167.\n\n Monastic school, a school kept in a monastery.\n\n Distinguished, eminent and great.\n\n Pilgrimage, a journey to a place for devotion. Pilgrim, a person who\n goes on a pilgrimage.\n\n Determined will, allowing nothing to turn them from their purpose.\n\n Relinquish, to give up, to abandon.\n\n Luxuries, dainties, delicacies.\n\n Peasantry, the common country people.\n\n Swerve, to turn away from.\n\n Consecrated, made sacred and venerable.\n\n Hermitage, a place where a hermit lives.\n\n\nXXXIX.--Page 170.\n\n Object of their pilgrimage, the place they chiefly came to visit.\n\n Sojourn, to dwell, to live in a place.\n\n Revere, to regard with honour, love, and respect.\n\n Memorial, something that reminds one of past persons or events.\n\n Vehemently, very earnestly.\n\n Envied, people of other nations envied them, or were jealous of\n them.\n\n Triumphant, gaining victories.\n\n\nXL--Page 173.\n\n Successfully cultivated: the Irish people studied and practised\n them and made improvements.\n\n Pirates, sea robbers.\n\n Permanently, remaining there always.\n\n Expel, to drive out.\n\n Sovereignty, headship, kingship.\n\n Annex, to join.\n\n Encroaching, taking up or advancing on what belongs to another.\n\n Anglo-Irish, partly English and partly Irish.\n\n Milesian stock, the descendants of the Milesians (see p. 2).\n\n\nXLI.--Page 179.\n\n Croon, a continuous murmuring sort of musical sound or song.\n\n Squire, a gentleman who attended on a knight.\n\n Nier, a river flowing into the Suir from the Co. Waterford.\n\n Spectrally, like a spectre or ghost.\n\n Jack, a leathern jacket used for armour.\n\n Plumes, the feathers of their helmets.\n\n\nXLII.--Page 181.\n\n Claimant, a person laying claim to something.\n\n Contend, to struggle or fight.\n\n Unimportant, trifling, of no consequence.\n\n Remote, far off, out of the way.\n\n Recognise, to know.\n\n Prostrate, down on hands and knees.\n\n Barons, lords.\n\n Ambush, or ambuscade, an unexpected attack from a hiding place.\n\n Reverses, misfortunes.\n\n Surrender, to give up.\n\n Vigilant, watchful.\n\n Truce, an agreement for peace for a while.\n\n Annals, histories of events as they occurred from year to year.\n\n\nXLIII.--Page 186.\n\n Cahal-More, Cahal the Great.\n\n Portent, a prodigy, a fearful sign or omen of evil.\n\n Entranced, in a trance, in a vision.\n\n A land of morn, a bright sunny land.\n\n Lustrous, bright, shining with fine crops and flowers.\n\n Resplendent, splendid, sunny, bright.\n\n Anon, immediately, on the spot.\n\n Port sublime, stately and grand looking.\n\n Him queried I, I asked him.\n\n Golden time, a prosperous plentiful time.\n\n Bland, soft, mild, temperate.\n\n Dome, a grand building.\n\n As by a spell, as if by magic; it started up suddenly. Remember this\n is all in a dream.\n\n Lyres, harps.\n\n Wreath\u00e8d swell, sounding all together with sweet musical turns and\n shakes.\n\n Thrilling, moving the feelings and heart.\n\n Aghast, frightened, pale with fear.\n\n Minstrel group, those who had been playing the harps.\n\n 'Twas then the time, we were in the days. The poet\n means:--\"Something dreadful has clearly happened; but how can this\n be, since this is the reign of Cahal-More?\" He did not know--in\n his dream--of Cahal's death.\n\n Fleckt, spotted.\n\n Alien sun, a strange sun: it was of course strange, for it glared\n from the _north_.\n\n Shorn beams, not bright, giving a dull gloomy sort of light.\n\n Skeleton: the skeleton of a man, a sign of disaster: the skeleton,\n and the blood spots in the sky, and the \"alien sun\" were some of\n the portents.\n\n Castled Maine: there are many castles along its banks.\n\n Teuton, a German.\n\n\nXLIV.--Page 190.\n\n Expedition, an undertaking or journey.\n\n Onslaught, a violent attack.\n\n Tunic, a loose outer garment.\n\n Dominions, territories.\n\n\nXLV.--Page 193.\n\n Disdain, to scorn, to hate.\n\n Commendations, praises.\n\n Do homage, to yield obedience.\n\n Apprehend, to take prisoner.\n\n Devise, to plan.\n\n Confer, to take counsel.\n\n Battle-harness, battle dress with arms.\n\n Apparel, clothes.\n\n Passport, permission in writing to pass from one country to another.\n\n Subscribe, to write one's name.\n\n Servitor, one in the king's service.\n\n Furniture: _i.e._ the furniture of a ship--oars, sails, cordage, &c.\n\n Ensample, old form of _example_.\n\n\nXLVI.--Page 197.\n\n Evil plight, miserable state.\n\n Council, a number of men kept by the king to help him with their\n advice.\n\n Enterprise, an undertaking.\n\n Perilous, dangerous.\n\n Peer, an equal, a match.\n\n Stalworth, strong, stout, brave.\n\n Knightly, like a knight, valiant and stout-hearted.\n\n Seemly, proper, decent.\n\n\nXLVII.--Page 200.\n\n Lists, the enclosed ground where a single combat was to be fought.\n\n Obeisance, courtesy, saluting, bowing to.\n\n Banquet, a feast.\n\n Reverence, great respect.\n\n Intently, with attention, closely.\n\n Grim, very fierce and angry.\n\n\nXLVIII.--Page 203.\n\n Baron, a lord of the lowest rank. The ranks are:--baron, viscount,\n earl, marquis, duke.\n\n Independent, not under the authority of anyone.\n\n Goodly presence, a noble or fine appearance.\n\n Appease, to pacify.\n\n Hobby, a middle-sized horse of Irish breed, much valued.\n\n Adversary, an opponent, an enemy.\n\n Discord, disagreement, quarrelling.\n\n Jars, wrangles, quarrels.\n\n Chapter house, a house or room in a cathedral where the clergy meet.\n\n Trice, a very short time, as long as one would take to count three.\n\n Outface, to dare him up to his face.\n\n Green wound, a fresh wound.\n\n Devise, to plan.\n\n Bungerlie, in a bungling manner.\n\n\nXLIX.--Page 208.\n\n Cultivate, to study, practise, and improve.\n\n Colonists, persons who leave their native land and settle in some\n distant country.\n\n Dirge, a mournful or funeral song.\n\n Dialogue, two people speaking in turn, conversation between two.\n\n Interrupt, to stop for a time.\n\n Placid, quiet, gentle, peaceful.\n\n Resume, to take up again.\n\n Clansmen, the men belonging to a clan.\n\n National music, music that has grown up gradually among the people\n of a country.\n\n Originally, in the beginning.\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's notes:\n\nVariations in spelling and hyphenation have been retained as in the\noriginal.\n\nThe following corrections have been made to the text:\n\n Page 5, second line from bottom: named Fergus,[missing comma added]\n Angus, and Lorne.\n\n Page 8, last line: sun and moon.[missing period added]\n\n Page 13, description of illustration on the right: size of the\n picture.[missing period added]\n\n Page 16, line 1: and not nearly so good[original has goo]\n\n Page 17, last line: There was then no whiskey.[missing period added]\n\n Page 28, last line: My heart shall know one peaceful hour.[missing\n period added]\n\n Page 31, line 9: The cold and briny spray.[missing period added]\n\n Page 49, line 3 of illustration caption: are in the National\n Museum,[missing comma added]\n\n Page 64, fifth line from bottom: three drops of honey in their\n beaks,[missing comma added]\n\n Page 65, line 1: \"It denotes the message from Concobar to us,\"[close\n quote added]\n\n Page 65, last line: \"[open quote added]even though my sway should be\n greater here.\"\n\n Page 67, line 9: \"[open quote added]Kil-Cuan, O Kil-Cuan,\n\n Page 68, second line from bottom: \"[original has ']Here I have a\n three-days banquet ready for thee, and I invite thee to\n come and partake of it.\"\n\n Page 69, fourth line from bottom: accustomed to defend\n ourselves!\"[original has ']\n\n Page 70, line 14: \"[original has ']Why didst thou tarry, my\n princess?\"\n\n Page 82, line 16: \"[open quote added]Three generous heroes of the\n Red Branch,\n\n Page 90, sixth line from bottom: More especially I[missing 'I'\n added] charge them that they do their duty devotedly\n\n Page 94, line 15: never using horses in the chase.[original has ,]\n\n Page 94, line 22: beside a stream or lake.[original has ,]\n\n Page 94, last line: next another layer of hot stones:[colon added]\n\n Page 107, line 11: accounts of her life[original has Life] we are\n told\n\n Page 108, caption for illustration: ten miles from[original has rom]\n Cork city.\n\n Page 113, last line: ages of darkness and storm.\"[original has ']\n\n Page 132, seventh line from bottom: \"[original has ']Surely, Dermot\n O'Dyna,\n\n Page 158, line 2: \"Heaven has guided our ship to this place.[missing\n period added]\n\n Page 163, seventh line from bottom: remained here for some\n days,[missing comma added]\n\n Page 164, chapter title: TENNYSON'S \"VOYAGE OF MAILDUNE.\"[original\n has ']\n\n Page 164, line 13: \"[original has ']The Voyage of Maildune.\"\n\n Page 177, line 3: and they built splendid abbeys,[missing comma\n added] churches,\n\n Page 210, line 2: in every part of Ireland.[missing period added]\n\n Page 210, line 6: i.e., laments, or dirges.[missing period added]\n\n Page 213, seventh entry under 'IV.--Page 14.': Establishment, the\n whole house, and[original has an] all belonging to it.\n\n Page 218, third entry under 'XXXIV.--Page 155.': Sack, to plunder\n and destroy[original has distroy].","title":"A Reading Book in Irish History","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":50921}