Part 12

They bear along to Fraoch’s green mound The hero’s body to its grave. By his name they call the glen, Sad for those he left behind. Cairn Laive is the hill beside me, Close by it many a happy day The hero lived, of matchless strength, The bravest heart in battle’s day. Lovely those lips with welcomes rich, Which woman liked so well to kiss; Lovely the chief whom men obeyed, Lovely those cheeks like roses red, Than raven’s hue more dark his hair, Redder than hero’s blood his cheeks; Softer than froth of streams his skin, Whiter it was than whitest snow; His hair in curling locks fell down, His eye more blue than bluest ice; Than rowans red more red his lips, Whiter than blossoms were his teeth; Tall was his spear like any mast, Sweeter his voice than sounding chord; None could better swim than Fraoch, Who ever breasted running stream. Broader than any gate his shield, Joyous he swung it o’er his back; His arm and sword of equal length, In size he like a ship did look. Would it had been in warrior’s fight That Fraoch, who spared not gold, had died; ’Twas sad to perish by a Beast, ’Tis just as sad he lives not now. ’Tis the sigh.

[122] The author of this composition is altogether unknown, nor is it easy to decipher even the name accurately. In the original it is distinctly “in keich o cloan.” According to the Dean’s usual orthography, this should be “An caoch O’Cluain,” which means the _blind O’ Cloan_, or the _blind man from the green mound_. Some of the readers of the MS. have made it out to be the name of a woman. We have given the form of the name most likely to be accurate. The composition itself is usually called “Bàs Fhraoich,” or _the death of Fraoch_.

[123] “Caiseal chrò,” usually translated _bier_, is a curious term. “Caiseal” means a _castle_ or _stronghold_, “crò,” a _fold_ or _pen_; so that the word really means the _stone pen_, or _fortified pen_. Is not this in all likelihood the stone coffin, with which we are so familiar in ancient Celtic sepulture?

[124] It is not easy identifying the topography of this poem. It is generally believed in Perthshire that the scene of Fraoch’s death was in Glen Cuaich, a valley lying between those of the Tay and the Almond. We have a Loch Fraoch there, but I have not been able to identify Carn Fraoich, or Carn Laimh. Cruachan is spoken of as lying to the east, which goes rather in favour of the opinion, that the scene of the poem was in Argyleshire, Ben Cruachan being to the east of the locality so designated in that part of the country. I cannot find any lake in Scotland now called Loch Mai, although Loch Fraoch may have been so called.

[125] The introduction of the “sigh,” would seem to indicate that a sigh was expected at certain parts of the poem from the reciter.

[126] It is needless to point out the analogy between this tale and that of Hercules and the garden of the Hesperides. It will strike any one acquainted with the classical story.

[127] The story is simple and intelligible. Mai loved Fraoch, and became jealous of her own daughter, usually called Gealcheann, or Fairhead. She accordingly planned and accomplished Fraoch’s destruction as related.

The author of this is Connal Cearnach M’Edirskeol.[128]

These heads, O Connal, are worthless; Though thou must have blooded thine arms. These heads thou bear’st upon that withe, Can’st tell their owners, now thy spoil?

Daughter of Orgill of the steeds, Youthful Evir, so sweet of speech, ’Twas to avenge Cuchullin’s death, That I took these numerous heads.

Whose is that hairy, black, great head, With cheeks than any rose more red, That which hangs nighest thy left arm, The head whose colour has not changed?

That head the king of swift steeds own’d, Said Cairbar’s son of vigorous lance; In vengeance for my foster son, I took that head and bore it far.

What head is that I see beyond, Covered with smooth, soft, flowing hair, His eye like grass, his teeth like bloom, His beauty such as none is like?

Manadh, the man that own’d the steeds, Aoife’s son, who plunder’d every sea; I left his trunk ’reft of its head, I slew his people, every man.

What head is that I see thee grasp, Great Connal of the gentle streams; Since that Cuchullin[129] now is dead, Whom to avenge him did’st thou take?

’Tis the head of Mac Fergus of steeds, He in extremity so bold, My sister’s son from the tall tower, His head I from his body wrenched.

What fair-haired head is that to the east, Whose hand might well have seized the heads; Well did I know his voice of old, For he and I were friends awhile?

Down there it was the Cu did fall, His body cast in fairest mould; Cu, son of Con, of poets’ king, Among the last I took his head.

What two heads are those farthest out, Great Connal of the sweetest voice; Of thy great love hide not from me The names of them so dark in arms?

’Tis Laoghar’s head and that of Cuilt, The two who fell pierced by my arms; One of them had Cuchullin struck, Hence his red blood my weapons dyes.

What two heads are those to the east, Great Connal of the famous deeds; Alike the colour of their hair, Than hero’s blood more red their cheeks?

Cullin the handsome, and Cunlad brave, Two who e’er triumphed in their wrath; Evir, their heads are to the east, I left their bodies streaming red.

What are those six hideous heads I see in front facing the north; Blue in the face, their hair so black, From which thou turn’st thy look, brave Connal?

These are six of Cuchullin’s foes, Calliden’s sons, who triumphed oft; These are now the senseless six Who all, full armed, fell by my hand.

Great Connal, father to a king, What is that head, noblest of all; How bushy the golden yellow locks, Covering it with so much grace?

The head of M’Finn, M’Ross the red, The son of Cruith, slain by my stroke; Evir, he was king, chief of them all, In Leinster of the spotted swords.

Great Connal, now please change thy tale, Tell us the number slain by thine arm, Of all the noble famous men, In vengeance for the head of Con?

Ten and seven score hundred men, I tell the truth, the number is, That fell by me, all back o’er back, Fruit of my bravery and power.

Connal, tell how the women feel In Innisfail, the Cu being dead; Do they sadly, sorely mourn, Now that like me themselves have grief?

O Evir, what am I to do, Now that my Cu is ta’en away; My foster-son of fairest form, Now that he’s left me desolate?

O Connal, lay me in my grave, And raise my stone o’er that of Cu; In grief I’ll soon from this depart, Let my lips touch Cu’s lips in death.

Evir am I, of fairest form, No vengeance can me satisfy; In tears no pleasure I can find, ’Tis sad that I am left behind.[130] Connal.

[128] This is the most ancient of all the Ossianic Poets. He was contemporary of Cuchullin, who flourished, according to Irish historians, in the first century. Cuchullin was his foster-son, and upon his being slain, Conall took vengeance upon his enemies by putting them all to death. In this poem he tells Evir, who was either the wife or the betrothed of Cuchullin, the names of those thus put to death, and whose heads he carried on a withe. The name M’Edarscoil is represented now by that of O’Driscol; “Cearnach” means _victorious_, so that the poet’s name is really, The Victorious Conall O’Driscoll.

[129] Cuchullin, or _The Hound of Cullin_, is often spoken of simply as “An Cu,” or _The Hound_. In the Gaelic this is either “Cu” or “Con,” according as the word is in the nominative or genitive case. In the English version it is uniformly translated Cu, as it would be impossible to follow intelligibly the variations of the Gaelic grammar in the cases of a proper noun.

[130] This poem is usually called “Laoidh nan ceann,” or _The Lay of the Heads_. It bears many marks of genuineness and antiquity. It is well known in the Highlands, but the Editor has never seen or heard any reference to its authorship, except in the MS. of the Dean.

The author of this is Caoilte Mac Ronan.[131]

I set me off to rescue Finn, To Taura of the joyful streams; With arms sure of victory, To Cormac, son of Art Aonir.[132] I will not put forth my strength, Though bloody and light of foot, Until that with the Feinn of Fail, We have reached the shore of Loch Foyle. Then did we slay the mighty hero, When we had slain Cuireach.[133] We killed a mighty warrior When we had killed their leader. We bore his head up to the hill, Which lies above Buadhamair.[134] Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. For the hero’s sake I slew A man in every town[135] in Erin. Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. For the hero’s sake I brought Grief into every house in Erin. Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. The calves I slew with the cows, Whom I found in all fair Erin. Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. The doors on which the red wind[136] blew, I threw them each one widely open. Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. The fields all ripe throughout the land, I set them then a blazing brightly. Then indeed I had my triumph, For I made a total havoc. In my day there won’t be seen Either mill or kiln in Erin. Then it was they loosed against me The horse of Albin and of Erin. My fleetness gave me victory, Until I reached Ros illirglass. Then I westward took my way To Taura, although great the distance; Not one horse of all the troop Had Taura reached so soon as I did. In Taura then I gave that day The wife of him who cared not for her. I gave the wife of him who cared not, To him who cared for his as little; In noble Taura then I gave The wife of Cairbar to Cormac. The wife of Cormac also gave, Just as I had done, to Cairbar. The king’s sword then I firmly seized, A sword of matchless power and virtue; My own sword, fit for little now, I left it in the sheath of Cormac. Then I passed me quickly over, And from the door-keeper got his garment. From whence it happened, it is true, I became candlestick to Cormac. Then did I many strange things do, In presence of the King of Erin. “Though ye may wonder at my speech, Caoilte’s two eyes are in my candlestick.” “Say thou not so,” said noble Finn, The fair-haired prince of all the Feinn; “Though I may now thy prisoner be, Cast not reproach upon my people, Such is not Caoilte’s noble nature, Nought he does but what is generous. He would not hold a servile candle For any gold that earth may yield.” Then did I draw forth his drink For the excellent, manly king. Four steps, one after the other, I went along with him to serve him. Then I betook myself to his right, ’Twas one source of my sharp sorrow; I gave him of my own free will A dirge so grating, loud, and mournful. “Strange that he should give me this,” Said the clever, well-formed king. “The music smells of Caoilte’s own skin, This mournful, unharmonious dirge.” “Do not thou say so, O King,” Said I, in his servant’s garb; “These are boastful words thou speak’st. ’Tis worthy of one loving music.” “By my hand, most noble Caoilte, As Finn has been the Feinn’s great chief, Though, as I am, no pledge I’ll give To the men of Alb’ or Erin.” As I plainly saw he knew me, I now did boldly ask of Cormac, “Thou wilt tell me how I may Freedom purchase for my patron.” “Thou shalt not have Finn made free, I say, on any one condition, Save this condition, noble Caoilte, One thou never can’st fulfil; That thou should’st obtain for me Of all wild animals a pair, Then to thee I’d give thy patron, So soon as thou such pledge redeem’st.” I seized upon the pleasing words Of Cormac Mac Airt Inir, That he would freedom give the king So soon as I fulfilled such promise. When I had thus by promise bound Erin’s noble fair-haired king, Though I had a trying task, I set off to keep th’ agreement. From Taura I a journey took, A journey over all the land. I gathered in the flocks of birds, Though they were so very scattered. Two fierce _geilts_ I brought along, And two fine tall and long-clawed ospreys, And ravens from Fee ya von; Two wild ducks from Loch a Sellin, Two crows down from Slieve Cullin, Two wild oxen brought from Borrin, Two swans I brought from Dobhran gorm, Two owls from the wood of Faradrum, Two polecats from Coiltie creive, On the side of Druma Dabhran. Two otters also I took with them, From the rock of Donavan doivin, Two gulls from the strand of Loch Lee, Two _rualls_ from Port Lairge, Four woodpeckers from Brosna ban, Two plovers from Carrig dunan, Two _eachts_ from Eachta ard, Two thrushes from Letter Lomard, Two wrens from Dun Aoife, Two _geingeachs_ from Corrie dhu, Two herons from Corrin Cleith, Two gledes from Magh a Foyle, Two eagles from Carrig nan clach, Two hawks from Ceindeach forest, Two sows from Loch Meilghe, Two water-hens from Loch Earn, Two moor-fowls from Monadh maith, Two sparrow-hawks from Dulocha, Two stone-chats from Magh Cullin, Two tomtits from Magh Fualainn, Two _caschans_ from Glen Gaibhle, Two swallows from the Old Abhla, Two cormorants from Dublin, Two wolves from Crotta cliath, Two blackbirds from Traigh dha bhan, Two roe from Luachair Ir, Two pigeons from Ceis Charran, Two nightingales from Letter Fin chul, Two plovers from Letter roy, Two starlings from Taura the green, Two rabbits from Sith dubh donn, Two wild boars from Cluaidh chur, Two cuckoos from Drum a daive, Two grey birds from Laigheande, Two lapwings from Lanan Furrich, Two woodcocks from Craobh maidh, Two hawks besides from Sliabh glé, Two grey mice from Limerick, Two otters from the Boyne, Two larks from Monadh mòr, Two bats from the cave of Cno, Two badgers from the lands of Ullanach, Two cornrails from Shannon valley, Two water-wagtails from Bruach Bire, Two curlews from the sea of Galway, Two hares from Muirtheimhne, Two eagles from the wood of Luaraidh, Two hinds from Sith Buy, Two _geiseadachs_ (peacocks) from Magh Mall, Two _cith cenceachs_ from Cnamh choille, Two yellow-hammers from Bruach Bru, Two eels from the Black Water, Two goldfinches from Sliabh da eun, Two _cathails_ from Bray an Turla, Two birds of prey from Magh builg, Two coloured swallows from Granard, Two fierce ospreys from Gruing, Two redbreasts from the Great wood, Two _bliorachs_ from Dun nam barc, Two rock cod from Cala cairge, Two whales from the great sea, Two eels from Loch M’Lennan, Two _gearrgarts_ from Magh nan Eilean, Two little birds (wrens) from Mias a chuil, Two fish (salmon) from Eas M’Moirn, Two fine roe from Glen Smoil, Two cows from Achadh Maigh Moir, Two swift otters from Loch Con, Two wild cats from the cave of Cruachain, Two sheep from Sith Doolan gil, Two sows of the sows of Mac Lir; A ram and a red nimble sheep I brought with me from Ennis. I brought with me a horse and mare Of the fine stud of Mananan; A bull and cow in calf from Drumcan, These I had from Muirn Munchain. Ten hounds of the hounds of the Feinn Did Cormaig insolently require. Whatever thing he asked of me, I brought it with me as I came. When I had them all collected, And brought them to one plain, And sought to have them in control, They all of them did scatter widely. The raven flew away to the south, A cause to me of much vexation; I caught it in Glen da bhan, By the side of deep Loch Lurgan. The duck did also me forsake, Nor was it easier to take it; Over swift and swollen streams, I chased it to Achin dughlas. Then I seized it by the neck, Although it was not very willing. I took this duck along with me That I might liberate Finn from Cormaig. Of all the ills that I have met, During all my life on earth, Never shall my heart forget This, till my body is in the grave: With small birds, and with other birds, How I strove along to drive them, Travelling over hills and ditches, That with them I soon might reach him; While he still held Finn in bonds, And thought that I could never find them; And if I could but find him these, Then was he bound to give him freedom. This race that I had swiftly run, Was such as no man ran before me. Then I brought them all to Taura, To the chief who ruled the palace; Then had I further much to suffer, That night was to me very grievous. Within the town there was a stronghold, To which by nine doors there was entrance. Cormaig ’twas gave me the house, As I now was very wearied. Where I saw that they were placed In the narrow, horrid dungeon; Then came a loud and vigorous scream From the throats of all the gathering. There was a little ray of light Reached them in through fifty openings. Every door was closely shut, Nor was the case an easy one; They mournfully shut closely up, While I as sadly was excluded. My heart did now pour out its grief, Watching by the doors till morning. Though great the evil I had suffered, As before they flew so swiftly, Not one I suffered to escape Till the day rose in the morning. The name men gave to this great rabble Was “Caoilte’s rabble,” and no wonder. To see them standing side by side, Was all the profit got by Cormag. For when Finn did get his freedom, All of them did scatter widely; No two nor three of all did go From Taura in the same direction. My own swiftness and Finn’s escape Was a miracle from heaven; The three great things to me which happened Were these and gathering that host. It is security for my fame, I believe in Christ, and in this, Though great my gathering for Finn, I have nought of which to boast. Though long my leap to the east, In Taura of the Fenian heroes, Long was my leap to the west, In Taura, twenty hundred feet, Agile then was my leap, Which amongst strangers I did take, While the point of my foot alone yielded, Slow is now any expedition I make. I set me off.

[131] This is a remarkable composition, descriptive of an attempt of Caoilt to deliver his friend and patron Finn from the hands of Cormac M’Art, King of Ireland, against whom the Feinn had been stirring up rebellion. Caoilt, after various strange doings, is told that he can only have Finn’s liberty on condition of bringing to Tara a pair of all the wild animals in Ireland. A portion of the poem has been translated in Ireland, and published in the _Dublin University Magazine_ for March 1854, in connexion with an interesting paper upon the food of the ancient Irish, and the early zoology of their country, by Dr. Wilde. The translation is by that eminent Irish scholar, Mr. E. O’Curry. In that paper the poem is said to be at least a composition of the ninth century. It must be of extreme antiquity, as a reference to the language of it presents an amount of difficulty owing to obsolete words and phrases rarely met with. The Editor had the advantage of submitting his work to the review of Mr. O’Curry. For the topography of the poem, which is altogether Irish, the Editor has to refer the reader to the notes to the paper in the number of the _Dublin University Magazine_, referred to above, which are very full and very instructive.

[132] Art, King of Ireland, was called “Aonfhir,” or _The Solitary_, from his love of solitude.

[133] Cuireach was a famous Leinster prince.

[134] Buadhamair, the ancient name of Cahir, in Tipperary.

[135] In Gaelic, a farm is called “baile,” _a town_.

[136] The red wind, a magical wind said to blow in Ireland, and to be very destructive.

No author’s name given.[137]

There lies beneath that mound to the north Mac Cumhal’s son, in battle firm. Of Dearg’s daughter the white-tooth’d son, In wrath who never harshly spoke. There lies beneath that mound to the south Mac Conn’s son, his skin like bloom, The man who never met his match, Whose arm in fight dealt no soft blows. There lies beneath that mound to the east Oscar, so brave, famous in deeds. Though the Clan Morn were famous men, He counted them of little weight. There lies beneath that mound to the west The man by women thought so fair, M’Ronan for his beauty famed, Beneath the mound to the west he lies. Beneath the mound that is below me Lies he so famed for ugly pate; Conan, in every virtue rich, Beneath the mound below me lies. There lies.

* * * * *

Gorry, let us go to Finn, A service which we do not like, To ask of him the head of Gaul, That we may lay it down to rest. I am unwilling to go, Since I hear not aught of the head, And that we cannot have revenge, For the head of the great Mac Morn. Whether thou willest or not, I will, Said the great but foolish Conan; I will slay all the men I can In vengeance for the yellow-haired Gaul. Let us kill the three princes of the Feinn, As we can’t slay Finn himself. Speak, Gorry, speak quickly out, Let us be found at once on their hands. Thou shalt kill great Ossian M’Finn, I will kill the valorous Oscar, Dyre shall kill the dauntless Caoilte, Let them have us all assault. I shall show no foolish softness, Gentleness doesn’t suit with Finn; Though in our arms we all should fall, We will have no help from Gaul; If Finn is there his strength will be there, Let us send Finn down to his grave. True and guileless are the words Which to thee I speak, Gorry. Gorry.

[137] The Fenian poetry to which the Dean has attached the names of the authors, is now all given. We proceed with those whose authors’ names are not attached to them. Many of these are manifestly of the same period with the others, and they may with equal accuracy be attributed to Ossian or others of the Fenian bards.

The author of this is----.[138]