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No. 4.
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
fe
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(UBfMRYJSi
GRIMM LIBRARY. No. i.
GEORGIAN FOLK-TALES. Translated by
Marjory Wardrop.
Cr. ?>vo, fp. xii+175. 55, net.
GRIMM LIBRARY. No. 2.
THE LEGEND OF PERSEUS. By Edwin
Sidney Hartland, F.S.A.
Vol. I. THE SUPERNATURAL BIRTH.
Cr. %vo, fp. xxxiv-)-228. 7^. dd, net.
GRIMM LIBRARY. No. 3.
THE LEGEND OF PERSEUS. By Edwin
Sidney Hartland, F.S.A.
Vol. H. the LIFE-TOKEN.
Cr. %vo,pp. viii + 445. \2s. 6d. net.
All rights reserved
The Voyage of Bran
Son of Febal
to the Land of the Living
AN OLD IRISH SAGA NOW FIRST EDITED, WITH
TRANSLATION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY, BY
Kuno Meyer
With an Essay
UPON THE IRISH VISION OF THE HAPPY
OTHERWORLD AND THE CELTIC
DOCTRINE OF REBIRTH : BY
Alfred Nutt
SECTION I.
The Happy Otherworld
London :
Published by David Nutt in the Strand
1895
Edinburgh : T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty
CONTENTS
PAGE
Introduction, vii
The Voyage of Bran — Text and Translation, . . 2
Notes, 36
Appendix —
i. Compert Mongain, ....... 42
The Conception of Mongan, 44
ii. Seel asa m-berar co m-bad he Find mac Cumaill
Mongan, etc., . . . . . . .-45
A Story from which it is inferred that Mongan was
Find mac Cumaill, and the Cause of the Death of
Fothad Airgdech, 49
iii. Seel Mongain, ........ 52
A Story of Mongan, 54
iv. Tucait Baile Mongain, 56
The events that brought about the telling of
'Mongan's Frenzy,' 57
V. Compert Mongain ocus Sere Duibe-Lacha do Mongan, 58
The Conception of Mongan and Dub-Lacha's Love
for Mongan, ....... 7°
V
vi CONTENTS
Appendix — Continued.
vi. Passages from the Annals,
vii. Passages from Irische Texte iii, page 89, .
viii. Passages from Irische Texte iii. page 87, .
ix. Passages from Gilla Modutu's poem Senchas Ban,
X. Passages from MS. Laud 615, .
Glossary,
Index of Persons,
Index of Places and Tribes,
PAGE
84
85
86
86
87
91
97
98
The Happy Otherworld in the Mythico-romantic
Literature of the Irish. The Celtic Doctrine
OF Re-birth. An Essay in Two Sections. By Alfred
NuTT. Section I.— Chapters i.-xii., . . . . loi
[For full Contents, see pp. 110-114.)
INTRODUCTION
The old-Irish tale which is here edited and fully trans-
lated ^ for the first time, has come down to us in seven
Mss. of different age and varying value. It is unfortunate
that the oldest copy (U), that contained on p. 121a of the
Leabhar na hUidhre, a ms. written about iioo a.d., is a
mere fragment, containing but the very end of the story
from /// in chertle dia dernaind (§62 of my edition) to
the conclusion. The other six mss. all belong to a much
later age, the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries
respectively. Here follow a list and description of these
MSS. : —
By R I denote a copy contained in the well-known
Bodleian vellum quarto, marked Rawlinson B. 512, fo. 119a,
I — \2ob^ 2. For a detailed description of this codex, see
the Rolls edition of the Tripartite Life, vol. i. pp. xiv.-xlv.
As the folios containing the copy of our text belong to that
portion of the MS. which begins with the Baile in Scdil
(fo. loia), it is very probable that, like this tale, they were
copied from the lost book of Dubddlethe, bishop of
* An abstract and partial translation of the Voyage of Bran was
given by Professor Zimmer in the Z,eitschrift fiir deulsches Allerthtim,
vol. xxxiii. pp. 257-261.
vii
viii THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Armagh from 1049 to 1064. See Rev. Celt. xi. p. 437.
The copy was made by a careful and accurate scribe of the
fifteenth or possibly the fourteenth century. The spelling
is but slightly modernised, the old-Irish forms are well pre-
served, and on the whole it must be said that, of all mss., R
suppHes us with the best text. Still, it is by no means per-
fect, and is not seldom corrected by mss. of far inferior
value. Thus, in § 4 it has the faulty cethror for cetheoir ;
in § 25 di^ for the dissyllabic diid ; in § 61, the senseless
namna instead of nammd. The scribe has also carelessly
omitted two stanzas (46 and 62).
The MS. which comes next in importance I designate B.
It is contained on pp. 57-61 of the vellum quarto classed
Betham 145, belonging to the Royal Irish Academy. I
am indebted to Mr. P. M. MacSweeney for a most accurate
transcript of this MS. When I had an opportunity of com-
paring his copy with the original, I found hardly any dis-
crepancies between the two. B was written in the fifteenth
century, I think, by a scribe named Tornae, who, though
he tells us in a marginal note^ that he had not for a long
time had any practice in writing, did his task remarkably
well. He modernises a good deal in spelling, but generally
leaves the old-Irish forms intact. Thus we owe to him the
preservation of such original forms as the genitives ^';?<7 (^s)?
datho (8. 13), gla7io (3. 12), oi etsecht (13), etc.
^ This note is found at the bottom of p. 57 and runs thus : Messe
Tornae 7 ni ietur ca fad o doscriuhz^j oenlini roime sin, i.e. I am
Tornae, and I do not know how long ago it is since I wrote a single line.
INTRODUCTION ix
H denotes a copy contained in the British Museum ms.
Harleian 5280, fo. 43a — 443. For a description of this
important ms., which was written in the sixteenth century,
see Hibernica Minora (Anecdota Oxoniensia, Medieeval and
Modern series — Part viii.), pp. v and vi. In this copy the
spelling and forms are considerably, but by no means con-
sistently, modernised. In a few cases H has preserved the
original reading as against the corruptions of all or most of
the other mss. Thus it has cetheoir (4), muir glan (35),
moitgretha (8), etc.
E is a copy contained on fo. i ib, 2 — 13a, 2 of the British
Museum ms. Egerton 88, a small vellum folio, written in
the sixteenth century. The text is largely modernised and
swarms with mistakes and corruptions. By sheer good
luck the scribe sometimes leaves the old forms intact, as
when he writes brdi 14, adig 21, lldadig 22, mrecht 24.
S is contained in the Stockholm Irish ms., pp. 2-8. I am
indebted to Mr. Whitley Stokes for a loan of his transcript
of the whole ms. S is deficient at the end, breaking off
with the words amha/ bid atalam no\)eth tresna hilcetaib
bliadan (65). It is of very inferior value, being modernised
almost throughout in spelling and forms, and full of corrupt
readings, which I have not always thought it worth while to
reproduce in my footnotes.
L is the copy contained in the well-known ms. belonging
to Trinity College, Dublin, marked H. 2. 16, and commonly
called the Yellow Book of Lecan, col. 395-399. This ms.
dates from the fourteenth century. It is of most unequal
X THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
value. The scribe, in his endeavour to make the original,
mostly unintelligible to him, yield some sense, constantly
alters in the most reckless and arbitrary manner. At other
times he puts down whole lines of mere gibberish. A good
instance of his method is the following rendering of the
34th quatrain :
Is ar muir nglan dochiu innoe
inata Bran bres agnas
is mag mell dimuig a scoth
damsa i carput da roth.
As in the case of S, I have not thought it necessary to
give all the variants of L. Yet in a few instances even L
has by a mere chance preserved original readings abandoned
by the other scribes, e.g. isa tir (62), ind nathir (45), bledhin
(62).
The six mss. here enumerated, though frequently varying
in details, offer on the whole an identical text, and have
clearly sprung from one and the same source. For even
the vagaries of L turn out on closer inspection to be mere
variants of the same original text. Under these circum-
stances it was a comparatively easy task to reconstruct a
critical text. In nearly every case the original reading was
preserved by one ms. or another. Thus almost every form in
my edition is supported by MS. authority. In the very few
cases where I have thought it right to deviate from all the
MSS., this has been pointed out in the notes. Still I am
far from flattering myself that I have succeeded in restoring
INTRODUCTION xi
the text to its original purity. In some cases, fortunately
not many, the readings of all the mss. seemed hopelessly
corrupt. See e.g. my remarks on dorearuasat, 48 ; aill erfind,
22; each dgi, 21; sdibsi ceni, 45. In other cases it is
doubtful whether I have preferred the right reading. Thus,
in § 10, I may have been too rash in adopting the reading
of L, cen indgds instead oifri indgds of the rest. Consider-
ing the tendency of L to alter a less common expression
into a familiar one, as well as the consensus of all the other
MSS., I would now retain fri and translate it by 'with.'
For this use of the preposition, cf. fri imfochid, p. 85, 3.
Again, I cannot claim that the text, as it now stands, repre-
sents the actual language of any particular period, contain-
ing as it does middle-Irish forms by the side of old-Irish
ones. Such a mixture of linguistic forms is, however, not
of my own making, but is an inherent peculiarity of most
of our older texts, fully explained by the way in which they
have been handed down.
But before I speak of this, I will try to determine as
nearly as possible the time at which the Voyage of Bran
was originally written down.
If we had any investigations into the history of the
Irish language besides the excellent history of the
Deponent lately published by Professor Strachan, it would
probably be possible to determine with accuracy the time
in which a particular text was composed. At present we
must be content with much less certain and definite state-
ments, often leaving a margin of a century on either side.
xii THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
In the case of old-Irish, it is mainly by comparing the
language of a given text with that of the continental glosses
that we arrive at anything like a trustworthy conclusion, and
this I propose to do in the present case.
There are a large number of forms in the Voyage of Bran
as old as any to be found in the Wiirzburg glosses. The
oldest part of these glosses. Professor Thurneysen, the most
careful and cool-headed of observers, does not hesitate to
ascribe to the seventh century.^
I now subjoin a list of these oldest forms, leaving aside
anything of a doubtful or unexplained nature.
First, as to sounds and their representation, the following
archaic forms and spellings are noticeable : —
Final e, early broadened to ce, ae, later a : sube, 8 ; com-
amre, lo; inoramre, 29; labre, 29; b/Sdne (later b/iadna),
55> 58.
Final /, early broadened to at : adamri, cadli, 1 1 ; brdi,
14 ; crediimi, 14 ; also bledin (later bliadain), 62 ; adig (later
adaig), 24 ; athir, 45, 57 ; / for infected a : Ildadig, 24.
Initial m before r: tnrath, 9; nirecht, 23, 24; mrutg, 9,
23, 24, 54.
Id ior later //: meld, 34, 39; himeldag, 41.
eu for eo : ceul, 9, 1 8, etc.
bi for later be : crbib, 3 ; bin, 13 ; trbithad, 30.
Also, perhaps, b for /in graibnid, 23 ; airbitiud, 18 ; and
oa for uu : sloag, 1 7 (R), cloais, 9, etc.
1 ' Die Vorlage der Wiirzburger Glossen kann unbedenklich ins 7.
Jahrh. datiert werden.' — Rev. Celt. vi. p. 319.
INTRODUCTION xiii
In the declension, notice the neuter nouns a rigthech, i ;
a ceol, 2 ; am-fnag, 5 ; am-?}iuir, 12 ; muir glan, without
nasal infection later added by analogy with neuter ^-sterns,
17, 28, 2,0 ; fris' tbibgel ionnat, 2; cusa duchemag, 20; isa
tir, 62, etc. The following genitives sing, of /'-stems occur :
glano^ 3) 12 ; 7Tiora^ 37 ; of ?(!-stems : betho, 21 ; fedo, 42:
fi7io, 13 ; datho, 8, 13 ; the datives sing, of <7-stems : Idur, i ;
Braim, 2; the accusatives plural: rtiiia, 52; nime, 28;
muire, 48 ; tedman, 2 1 ; the genitive plural : dtile, 44.
In the article the full form inna is of constant occurrence.
In the poetry it is twice shortened to ^na in the gen. plur.
(26, 30).
Among prepositions, notice such a form as dbu, 29, 32,
51 ; the use of iar with the dative, 26, 32 j the careful
distinction between dt and do.
But it is in the verbal system that the archaic character
of the language appears to greatest advantage. The
distinction between conjunct and absolute as well as
between dependent and independent forms is preserved
throughout.
Present indicative, sg. i : atchiu, 35 — sg. 2 : immerdi, 37 ;
forsn-aicci, 38 ; ttad aicci, 39 ; nofethi, 49 — sg. 3 : mescid, 16 ;
canid, 18; graibntd, 23; forsnig, 6, 12 ; dosnig, 12, 22;
comerig, 17 ; tormaig, 18 ; foafeid, 22 ; ifmnareid, ^ ; fris-
bein, 16 ; frisseill, 59 ; forosna, 16 ; consna, 5 ; ivinmsthner-
chel, 19; taitni {deY>.), 6; f ibri (dep.), 35 ; donaidbri^ 17 —
pi. 3 : lingit, 38 ; bniindit, 36 ; taircet (dep.), 14, 40 ; ni
frescef, 18, 23 ; immaiaitfiet, 4 ; taitnet (dep.), 40 ; taitnet
xiv THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
(independent !), 8, 36 ; congairet, 7 ; forclechtat, 5 ; foslon-
gat, 4 ; frisferat, 21 ; forsngatret, 7.
Present subjunctive, sg. 3 : trbithad, 30 ; imraad, 60 ;
etsed, 29.
T-preterite, sg. 3 : dori'iasat, 27 ; ronort, 46.
Reduplicated preterite, sg. 3 : ruchi'iala, 20.
S-future, sg. 3 : silis, 55 ; conlee, 51; adfi, 52. Secondary
s-fut., sg. 2 : rista, 30.
Reduplicated future, sg. i : fochicher^ 56 ; arunghi^ 57 —
sg. 3 : gebid, 26; adndidma, 51 ; timg'era, 59.
B-future, sg. 2 : ricfe, 60 — sg. 3 : glanfid, 28 ; dercfid, 55 ;
//V/fl (independent I), 26, 48; ro thief a, 49; moithfe, 52;
fifgloisfe, 48 ; f^^, 28.
Imperative, sg. 2 : /z^zV, 30 ; tinscan, 30.
Verbal nouns : etsecht, 13, 24; ool, 13 ; imram, 17 ; <7;>-
bittud, 18.
The following passive forms occur : pres. ind. pi., ogtar,
54; sec. pers. sg., atchetha, 12, 39; red. fut. sg., gebthir,
57 ; gerthair, 51 ; pret. sg., a:^^/, 29 ; atfess, 29 ; s-fut. sg.,
festar, 26.
As to old syntactic usage, notice the adjective and sub-
stantive attributes placed before the noun, 4, 13, 19, 29, 43.
Lastly, I would draw attention to the use of the following
words as dissyllabic, though as most of them continue to be
so used as late as the tenth century, such use is not in itself
proof of great antiquity.
bit, 9 ; biaid, 50, 53, 55 ; bias, 27. Cf. Salt, na Rann,
U. 8021, 8202 ; Trip. Life, pp. 70, 22 ; 222, 4, 6, etc. But
INTRODUCTION xv
their use as monosyllables is far more frequent in Salt, na
Rann. See 11. 835, 1076, 1599, 1951, 1952, 2043, 2047,
327s. 3320, 3353> 5046, 625s, 6325.
cia, ' mist,' 11.
criad, gen. of ere, 'clay,' 50, as in the dat. criaid. Salt.
7683, 7769. Monosyllabic in Salt. 394 (leg. eriaid), 8230.
dia, 'God,' 48. Cf 1. 18 in Sanctan's hymn :
friscera Dia di'dech,
and Salt. 1905, 2033, 2685, 5359, 7157, 7969, 8074.
Monosyllabic in Salt, 649, 1917, 1950, 2742, 3121, 3308,
7976.
diib, 'of them,' 25; as in Salt. 375 (sic leg.), 437. But
monosyllabic in Salt. 4975, 4985, 5401, 5417, 5869, 7704.
fia, II.
foe, ' under her,' 6.
bol, ' drinking,' 13. Cf. oc mil in the Milan glosses
(Ascoli) ; d'bol, Salt. 1 944.
uain, 'lambs,' 38.
It will be observed that the above forms are taken
almost exclusively from the poetry. The prose, though it
preserves a large number of undoubtedly old-Irish forms,
also contains a good deal of what is clearly of middle-
Irish origin, more particularly in the verbal forms. The
use of preterites without the particle ro has been recognised
by Thurneysen,^ whom I mainly follow here, as a decidedly
later phenomenon. It occurs in birt, 31 ; asbert, 62, 62, (bis),
64, instead of old-Ir. asrubart, and in a large number of
^ See Rev. Celt, vi., pp. 322 and 328.
b
xvi THE VOYAGEOF BRAN
j-preterites such as foidis, 6i ; gabais, 63 ; scribais, 66 ;
celebrais, 66 ; sloindsi, 62. We find dobert 2, instead of
old-Ir. dorat, and dobreth 62, instead of doratad. The late
cachain occurs three times (2, 32, 65), for old-Ir. cechuin.
Such Middle-Irish forms, which all mss. without excep-
tion contain, show that the original from which our mss.
are in the first instance derived, cannot have been written
much earlier than the tenth century. Bearing this in mind,
together with the occurrence of the seventh century old-Irish
forms side by side with these later ones, as well as with the
fact that the poetry contains none of the latter, we arrive at
the following conclusions as to the history of our text.
The Voyage of Bran was originally written down in the
seventh century. ^ From this original, sometime in the tenth
century, a copy was made, in which the language of the
poetry, protected by the laws of metre and assonance, was
left almost intact, while the prose was subjected to a process
of partial modernisation, which most affected the verbal
forms. From this tenth century copy all our mss. are derived.
In conclusion, I would draw attention to the loan-words
occurring in our tale. These are all of Latin origin.^
They naturally fall into two groups, an older one of words
1 Prof. Zimmer also claims our text for this century. His words are
(I.e., p. 261) : ' Der Text gehort zum altesten was uns von irischer
profanlitteratur erhalten ist : seine sprache ist sicher so alt wie die
altesten fltirischen glossen ; er kann also noch dem 7. jh. angehoren.'
- With reference to Prof. Zimmer's well-known theory as to the Norse
origin of Ir. fidn and its derivatives, I may mention that the word
fcnnid occurs in 56.
INTRODUCTION xvii
borrowed at the period of the first contact of the Irish with
Roman civilisation, before the introduction of Christianity ;
a later one of words that came into Irish with Christianity.
To the first group belong aball, ' abella ' ? 3 ; arggat,
'argentum,' 23, 14, 22 ; drauc, 'draco,' 53; dracon, 'dracon-
tium,' 12, 58;//;?, 'vinum,' 13, i^;fi?ie, 'ab eo quod est
vinea,' Corm., 43 ; port, 'portus,' 62.
Of words of the second group we find : cor, ' chorus,' 18 ;
corp, ' corpus,' 46, 50 ; /itA, 45, through Welsh //M from
Lat. lectio; mias, 'mensa,' with the meaning 'dish,' 62;
peccad, 'peccatum,' 41; praind, 'prandium,' 62; ocean,
'oceanus,' 25; scribaim, 'scribo,' 66.
It remains for me to express my gratitude to those
who have taken a friendly interest in the production of this
little book, and who have in various ways given me advice
and assistance ; above all to Mr. Whitley Stokes, to whom
I am indebted for many weighty suggestions, as well as for
the loan of valuable transcripts ; to the Rev. Richard
Henebry, Mr. Alfred Nutt, and Mr, P. M, MacSweeney, and
to my kind friends and colleagues, Mr. John Sampson, and
Prof. John Strachan.
KUNO MEYER.
University College,
Liverpool,
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN SON OF FEBAL
The Voyage^ of Bran son of Febal, and
his Expedition ^ here below
I. '' I ^WAS fifty quatrains the woman from unknown
X lands sang on the floor of the house to Bran
son of Febal, when the royal house was full of kings, who
knew not whence the woman had come, since the ramparts
were closed.
2. This is the beginning of the story. One day, in the
neighbourhood of his stronghold, Bran went about alone,
when he heard music behind hini. As often as he looked
back, 'twas still behind him the music was. At last he fell
asleep at the music, such was its sweetness. When he
awoke from his sleep, he saw close by him a branch ^ of
^ Imram, lit. 'rowing about,' denotes a voyage voluntarily under-
taken, as distinguished from longes, 'a voyage of exile.'
- Echtre, f. (a derivative of echtar =1.7^1. extra), lit. 'outing,'
specially denotes expeditions and sojourns in Fairy-land, as in Echtra
Bresail Bricc 7naic Briiiin (LL. p. 170 b, 25), who stayed fifty years
under Loch Laeg ; Echira Cormaic i Tir Tairngiri, Ir. Texte iii,
p. 202 ; Frhtra Nerai (Rev. Celt. x. p. 212), Echtra Nectain maze
Alfroinn (LL. p. 189 b, 59) = Nechtan mac Collbrain, infra § 63, etc.
3 That it was the branch that produced the music, when shaken,
appears from a similar incident in Echtra Cormaic, Ir, Texte iii.
p. 212.
Imram^ Brain male Febail, ocus a Echtra
andso si's
I. /"^OICA rand rogab^ in ben a ti'rib ingnath* for
\_y laur in tige do Bran mac Febail,^ arrob6i° a
n'gthech Ian de n'gaib, annadfetatar can dolluid '^ in ben,
drobatar ind liss duntai.
2. Is ed tossach in sce6il. Imluid^ Bran laa n-and a
6inur i comocus ^ dia dun, cociiala a ceol iarna chdl. A
n-donecad tar a eissi,^^ ba larna chill beus nobith^^ a ce61.
Contuil asendath frissa^^ ce6l ar a bindi.^^ A n-dofilsic ^^
asa chotlud, conacca in croib n-arggait fua bldth find ina
farruth, na bu ^^ basse ^^ etarscarath a bldthe ^'^ frissin cr6ib
isin.is Dobert^^ iarum Bran-*^ in cr6ib ina laim -^ dia
^ Title in L only. ^ andso add. L. ^ rogaib H. * ingnaut H.
^ diuhran mac feupol forlaur intighi H for — tige 07n. B. ^ sic H
oroboi RE. '' sic R doluith E deluith //, ^ jmluit/^ E imluit HB.
* sic R comfocus cet. ^* cis B aiss H tarcis E tarese S. ^^ sic R
nobiedh E nobid cet. ^- fria R frisin cet. ^* sic L bindiu B bindem
RE bindim SH. " sic H dofoisich RE dofuisich B. ^^ nabud B
nipa H. i" hassa E hcussui H. ^^ blatha R blatho B bkMac HE.
^^ om. REBL. '" dubcrt R tonpert H. ^ \xxan iaram S. "' inalaim
incroiph B.
4 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
silver with white blossoms, nor was it easy to distinguish its
bloom from that branch. Then Bran took the branch in
his hand to his royal house. When the hosts were in the
royal house, they saw a woman in strange raiment on the
floor of the house. 'Twas then she sang the fifty i quat-
rains to Bran, while the host heard her, and all beheld
the woman.
And she said :
3. ' A branch of the apple-tree ^ from Emain ^
I bring, like those one knows ;
Twigs of white silver are on it,
Crystal brows with blossoms.
4. ' There is a distant isle,
Around which sea-horses* glisten :
A fair course against the white-swelling surge,'"'—
Four feet uphold it.®
5. ' A delight of the eyes, a glorious range.
Is the plain on which the hosts hold games :
Coracle contends against chariot
In southern Mag Findargat.^
1 All the Mss. contain only twenty-eight quatrains.
2 aball, f., which glosses Lat. malus in Sg. 61 b, has come to
denote any fruit-tree, as \n Jic-abull mor arsata, 'a large ancient
fig-tree,' LBr. 158 a, 55. Cf. Stokes, Rev. Celt. x. p. 71, n. 3.
^ i.e. nomen legionis (gloss).
* A kenning for ' crested sea- waves.' Cf. groig niaic Lir, ' the Son
of Ler's horses,' Rev. Celt. xii. p. 104. Zimmer misrenders : ' um
welche die rosse des nieeres spielend auftauchen.'
^ Lit. ' white-sided wave-swelling.'
^ Zimmer, following the corrupt reading of R [cethror instead of
cetheoir), renders : ' dem wohnsitz auf ftissen von vier mann ' !
7 i.e. nomen regionis (gloss), ' White-Silver Plain.'
IMRAM BRAIN 5
n'gthig. 6robatar inna sochuidi^ isind rigthig^ conaccatar
in mnai i n-etuch ^ ingnuth for laur ^ in tige. Is ^ and ^
cachain '' in c6icait rand so do Braun ^ arranchiiale ^ in sl6g,
ecus adchondarcatar ^^ uili in mnai.^^
Ocus asbert : ^-
3. ' Croib dind abaill ^^ a hEmain *
dofed ^"^ samail do gndthaib,
gesci findarggait fora,^*^
abrait glano ^"^ co m-bldthaib.
4. ' Fil inis i n-eterchein
immataitnet ^' gabra ^^ rein,
rith find fris' toibgel tondat,
cetheoir^^ cossa foslongat.
5. ' Is If ^^ sula,^^ sreth far m-buaid,
am-mag forclechtat^- int sluaig :
consna-'^ curach fri carpat
isin maig -^ tess -^ Findarggat.^ ^^
^ .i. nomen regionis ESL .i. Emnc(a) nomen regionis AV/.
^ .i. nomen regionis RHESL.
* Ya.\s.oc!^uide B. ^ isintoigh SH. ' etuch(t) R, ■* sic II lar cet.
^ con\A L. ** esnann H. ^ cachoin H. ^ sic R Bran cet. " arancoule
E. ^" atC(7«ncot(2r /T adf^«nairc E. " ina fiadnaisi add. L. ^- m- ZT
ut est Z ^w. a-/, i-' apuillt // abailt £. " sic E dofot A'j5Z difett
^dofcth S. 1*^ i?<: REL foira .S fuiiri .5//. ^8 j/V i5 glana A'5^Z
gloinic //. ^'^ immetatnit //. ^'^ gaurae II. ^'* «V ///? cethror R
ccthur 6' cethar L cctli. ^\ ^o u; j7_ 21 suili A' suloi H. 22 f^„.
clechtot Zr. 23 ^^„s„ai //. 24 j/,. i mag A'/>'^^- maug A^. '^ thes ^
des Z. 2« finnairgiV j5//^.
6 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
6. ' Feet of white bronze under it
Glittering through beautiful ages.^
Lovely land throughout the world's age,
On which the many blossoms drop.
7. ' An ancient tree there is with blossoms,
On which birds call ^ to the Hours.^
'Tis in harmony it is their wont
To call together every Hour.
8. ' Splendours of every colour glisten
Throughout the gentle-voiced plains.
Joy is known, ranked around music,
In southern Mag Argatnel.*
9. ' Unknown is wailing or treachery ^
In the familiar cultivated land.
There is nothing rough or harsh,^
But sweet music striking on the ear.
10. ' Without grief, without sorrow, without death,
Without any sickness, without debility,''
That is the sign of Emain * —
Uncommon is an equal marvel.
^ i.e. here below (gloss).
^ gairim is often used of the notes of birds, e.g. : int en gaires isint
sail, ' the bird that sings in the willow,' Ir. Texte iii. p. 19.
^ i nit ha, the canonical hours, an allusion to church music.
Zimmer, wrongly, ' zu den zeiten.'
■* i.e. n^men regionis (gloss), ' Silver-Cloud Plain.'
* Zimmer, wrongly, ' vor den gerichten.'
^ Lit. ' with harshness.' Zimmer, ' flir die kehle ' ?
^ Cf. i lobrai ocus i n-ingds, Sergl. Cone. 10.
^ i.e. nomen regionis (gloss).
IMRAM BRAIN
6. ' Cossa findrune ^ foe,^
taitni ^ tre bithu gnoe : '''' *
cdin ^ tir tria bithu ^ bdtha,
forsnig inna '' hilblatha.
7. 'Fil and bile co m-bldthaib ^
forsngairet '•* eoin do thrathaib :
is tre 1° cocetul is gndth
congairet uili cech trath.
8. ' Taitnet Iiga cech datho ^^
tresna maige moithgretho/''^
is gnath sube, sreth imm cheul,
isin maig ^^ tess ^* Arggatneul.l^
9. ' Ni gndth ecoiniud ^^ na mrath '^^
hi mruig denta^^ etargnath,
ni bii ^* nach ^^ gargg fri cniaisj^**
acht -^ mad ceul m-bind frismben ^^ cluais.^-*
10. ' Cen bron, can duba, cen bds,
cen nach n-galar -' cen -^ indgds,-"
is ed etargne n-Emne,'^ -^
ni comtig a comamre.^^
^ .i. bus £. ^ .[. nomen regionis RBHE. "^ .i. regio R
.i. nomen regionis HE.
^ findbruine B findargait L. - fore £ foa H. ^ sic S taitne RHL
tathnc B taithnit E. * gnooe E gnooa H. ° caoin H. ^ bitha EH.
' forsnigit na B. ^ blatoiu //. " forsangairet EH. ^^ tria E tr/aa //.
" sic B dalha cet. ^- moitgretha // moitcr gretha RE moitcr gredo S
moit«r gretho B msethgnatha Z. ^^ mag BE. " thcas E des L.
'* eccainedh E eccoine B eccaine //. ^" mbrath RSBE mbrad //.
■7 dianta R deanta E deantai //. i» bi BH bidh E. ^'■' gutli aJd. L.
'" croais L crois RBEH. -i is add. R. -"- frisambcn E. -•' cloais REL
cloois // clois />'. '^ g'aXur EH. '^ sic L ixx cet. -^ sic RL hm\\gz.s ES
higgass //hingas iff. -' is clir airgnc nemnoe Z. ^ comlabrai //.
8 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
11. 'A beauty of a wondrous land,
Whose aspects are lovely,
Whose view is a fair country,
Incomparable is its haze.
12. ' Then if AircthechMs seen.
On which dragonstones ^ and crystals drop
The sea washes the wave against the land,
Hair of crystal drops from its mane.^
13. 'Wealth, treasures of every hue,
Are in Ciuin,* a beauty of freshness.
Listening to sweet music.
Drinking the best of wine.^
14. ' Golden chariots in Mag Rdin,^
Rising with the tide to the sun,
Chariots of silver in Mag Mon,''
And of bronze without blemish.
15- ' Yellow golden steeds are on the sward there,
Other steeds with crimson hue.
Others with wool upon their backs
Of the hue of heaven all-blue.
^ i.e. regio (gloss), 'Bountiful Land.'
^rt'raf£i/M = Lat. dracontiae.
3 ' Mane ' and ' hair ' are frequent kennings in Irish poetry for the
crest and spray of a wave, e.g. : in n-edmaras mongfor muir, ' while a
crested wave remains on the sea,' Ir. Texte iii. p. 16. Cf. also the adj.
tibrech, 'hairy' (from tibre .i. finda na griiaide facbas hi altan dia
hese, Harl. 5280, fo. 41 a) in tias ttmid tibrig, LL. 17 b, 2=fri tuinn
iibhrigh, wrongly explained by O'CIery, s.v. tibhrigh.
■* i.e. insula (gloss), i.e. nomen regionis (gloss), ' Gentle Land.'
^ Cf. Sg. 122 b, where ceitgrinne fino glosses ' nectar.'
6 'Plain of the Sea.'
^ i.e. regio (gloss), ' Plain of Sports.'
IMRAM BRAIN
II.' Caine ^ tire adamri,^
ata comgniisi cadli,^
asa rodarc * find fia,^
. ni frithid '^ bid a ciaJ
12. ' Md ® adcetha ^ Aircthech * far tain
forsnig dracoin ocus glain,^'
dosnig am-muir^^ fri lir toind,
trilsi glano^^ asa^^ moing.
13. 'Moini, diissi each datho "
hi Ciuin,l3 cdine etatho/^
etsecht fri ceul co m-bindi,
60I ^^ fino^'' oingrindi.i**
14. ' Carpait ordi ^^ hi Maig Rein,
taircet -*' la ^^ tule don grein,
carpait arggait i Maig Mon ^
ocus credumi 22 cen on.
15.' Graig 6ir budi ^3 and fri -' srath
graig aile -'' co corcardath,
graig aile-*' ualann tar ais
CO n-dath nime huleglais.^'^
'^ .i. regio JiE .i. nomen regionis IfB. ^ .i. in insola Ji insola E
• i. nomen regionis //. " .i. regio A'^ .i. nomen regionis BJI.
^ caoine S. - caintir atamne adoine L. ' sz'c R cainle Z. * radarc
H/3. 5 fiaa S fioa //. <> sic EL frithit liB fr/tidi Zi^ fritit S. "> ciaa
RSEH. 8 mad S. » madcctho B. i» gloin RBE. " anioir RS.
^\ sic B glana REL glanai H. ^^ dara // uasa Z. " sic B datha cet.
^^ canietdatha R cainet datho B cain ettdatha H caine <^d datha Z"
cainc edatha .S" hiciuin ctdatha Z. i" hool A'Z". ^^ sic R fina ^^/.
'" oengrindo A'alicngrinde II. ^^ «V RE ordai Z/orda i5Z. ** tairg^/
£ tairiut ZiT. 21 ijoa //. z'i creuma: 5 credumai H. ^ buide y^Z^^.
^ for Z'Z. =5 aili A'. -« aili A'. 27 huileuglais R.
lo THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
i6. ' At sunrise there will come
A fair man illumining level lands ;
He rides upon the fair sea-washed ^ plain,
He stirs the ocean till it is blood.
17. ' A host will come across the clear sea,
To the land they show their rowing ;
Then they row to the conspicuous stone,
From which arise a hundred strains.
18. 'It sings a strain unto the host
Through long ages, it is not sad.
Its music swells 2 with choruses of hundreds-
They look for neither decay nor death.
19. ' Many-shaped Emne ^ by the sea,
Whether it be near, whether it be far,
p** In which are many thousands of motley * women.
Which the clear sea encircles.
20. 'If he has heard the voice of the music,
The chorus of the little birds from Imchiuin,^
A small band of women will come from a height
To the plain of sport in which he is.
^ Lit. ' against which the sea beats.'
^ Lit. ' it increases music'
3 Here and in § 60 the nominative Emne is used instead of
Emain (§§ 3, 10).
* Ir. brec, ' variegated,' probably referring to their dress. Cf. cSica
ingen ildathach, Sergl. Cone. 45.
^ i.e. nomen regionis (gloss), ' Very Gentle Land.'
IM RAM BRAIN ii
i6. ' Dofeith ^ la ^ turcbdil ^ n-grene
fer find forosna "* rede,^
redid mag find frismbein muir,
mescid *■ fairggi co m-bi full.
17.^ ' Dofeith ^ in sliiag ^ tar muir glan/**
don tir donaidbri ^^ imram,
imrdid'- larum ^^ dond licc^* leur^^
asa comerig cet ceul.
iS. ' Canid ^^ airbitiud " dont slog
tre bithu sir, nat bi ^^ trog,
tormaig ceul co corib ^^ cet,
ni frescet 20 aithbe-^ nd ec.22
ig. ' Emne ildelbach fri rfan,-^
besu -^ ocus,-^ besu -•" chian,^''
i fil ilmili m-brec m-ban,
immustimerchel muir glan.-^
20. ' Ma ruchuala ^ luad ^^ in chiuil,
esnach^^ endn a hlmchiuin,^
dofeith 22 banchoren ^^ di haa
cusa '■^^ cluchemag itaa.
^ .i. regio /\£ .i. nomen legionis H.
i sic R Aolcth H dofcEth L. - lie H. » turgabizV HEB. •* forosndi
R forosnai H. ^ fofid coforus sneidhe L. " mescfid B mesccaid H.
' 17 om. S. 8 sic R dofeth HE dofet L. » sloag R. i» sic R nglan
BHE. " donaidbriu //^ donaidhbrc E. ^- imraig A'^. ^^ iaram R.
" liic A'Z;". ^'^ loir i^"//. i« 5/,; A' canair Z. " ^i<r A' airfuU-rf' //Z:
airbiud^f/ // airpetedh Z. ^^ niba j5. ^^ corib A' coraib Z>'A/£ cuirib
Z. -" jjV 6" nisreisce B irescz. R frescadh E frescait B frescat Z.
" aithbi E aithui AA '•" inda Zf. '•^ frj an A'. '^ bcsa Z" hcttss H.
" hoc«j £ anoccus H. ** besa £ ueuss H. '^ hician H. ^ sic RE
nglan Z/Z "^ sic R rocoaia Z'^'. ^ load A'Z"^- log Z^. ^i sic E
isnach A'6" csnac H isnan Z. ^ difct A' difcdh E difett H difelh 5
dofcd ^ dofed Z. ^ bancorcn Z banchuirc IIL bancuircn B. ^ cusin
EHBL.
12 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
21. ' There will come happiness with health
To the land against which laughter peals,
Into Imchiuin at every season
Will come everlasting joy.
22. ' It is a day of lasting weather
That showers silver on the lands,^
A pure-white cliff on the range of the sea,
Which from the sun receives its heat.
23. ' The host race along Mag Mon,^
A beautiful game, not feeble,
In the variegated land over a mass of beauty
They look for neither decay nor death.
24. ' Listening to music at night,
And going into Ildathach,^
A variegated land, splendour on a diadem of beauty.
Whence the white cloud glistens.
25. ' There are thrice fifty distant isles
In the ocean to the west of us ;
Larger than Erin twice
Is each of them, or thrice.*
^ Or, perhaps, if we read la suthaini sine, * It is through lasting
weather (lit. lastingness of weather) that silver drops on the lands.'
^ i.e. mare, ' Plain of Sports.'
^ i.e. V ^men regionis, ' Many-coloured Land.'
** This quatrain reappears in a somewhat modified form in a poem
(Laud 615, p. iS) addressed to Colum Cille by Mongan, who had
come from the Land of Promise ( Tlr Tairn^iri) to meet the saint at
Carraic Eolairg on Lough Foyle. See Appendix, p. 88.
IMRAM BRAIN 13
21. ' Dofeith ^ soire la sldini ^
don tir frisferat gdiri,
is i n-Imchiiiin^ each* dgi^
dofeith*' biiaine^ la hdni.^
22. ' Is M ^ suthaine sine
dosnigi" arggat i tire,
aill erfind^^ for^^ idna r^in
foafeid ^^ a griss a grein.i*
23. * Graibnid ^^ in slog far ^'^ Maig Mon,''^
cluche n-dlaind, nad indron,
i mruig ^'^ mrecht ^* uas ^^ maisse met,
ni frescat 2" aithbe nd ec.
24. ' !6tsecht fri ceul i n-adig,^^
ecus techt i n-Ildathig,l' 22
miuig-3 mrecht,-^ lig lias maisse mind,
asa taitni in nel find.
25. ' Fil tri coictea ^^ inse cian 2"
isind oceon -~ frinn aniar ;
is mo Erinn -^ co fa di -^
each ai diib ^^ no fa thri'.^^
a .i. mare RHE. "^ .i. regie RE .1. nomen regionis BH.
1 dofet RL dofett B dofed E dofeth H. " slane R. ^ isinnchiuin
R. * cac/ta. R cona B con /^TZ. cana iS' gun S. ^ agi 7i aighc S uighi
£ oighi Z aine /T. « dofett RB dofed £ dofeth Z'^ dothaed Z.
' j/V ^ boane RE boaini 5 baine // boine Z. ^ ane R ehaine E
haine.da.5. " la A/SS. i" dusnig 6'. " iar find Z'Z'i? ierfind JI
ailler find for findnarein Z. ^- j/c Z^^Z four 5 fuo R fou Z'. ^^ j;V
/•£■ fofeid 5 dof^/ Z^ dof^M j9. " agrisiv dagren H. i^ j?v RE
graifnid B//. '" ar //L. " sic B muigh E. ^^ mbrccht REBL
brccht S brict /Z ''•' oas RL. "^ nis frescad Z frescat R frescait B.
" SIC RE adaig 6-j9 inatigh Z. 22 iidadig A'Z-. ^3 ^^v R. "» sic RHE.
"^ coicta R .1. a H .\. EB choectha Z caogu S. -" cen A' accin E.
"" sic RE. 28 coibeis Y.unn BS. "> tri B. ^ dib Z'Z diou H.
" assed fail inga^/z innsi dibh B ased fil gach indsi dib S,
14 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
26. ' A great birth ^ will come after ages,
That will not be in a lofty place,^
The son of a woman whose mate will not be known,
He will seize the rule of the many thousands.
27. ' A rule without beginning, without end,^^
He has created the world so that it is perfect.
Whose are earth and sea.
Woe to him that shall be under His unwill ! *
28. "Tis He that made the heavens,
Happy he that has a white heart,
He will purify hosts under pure water,^
'Tis He that will heal your sicknesses.
29. ' Not to all of you is my speech,
Though its great marvel has been made known :
Let Bran hear from the crowd of the world
What of wisdom has been told to him.
30. ' Do not fall on a bed of sloth, ,^
Let not thy intoxication overcome thee, /
Begin a voyage across the clear sea, /
If perchance thou mayst reach the land of women.'
1 i.e. Christ (gloss).
2 Lit. ' upon its ridge-poles or roof-trees,' alluding probably to the
lowly birth of Christ.
3 Cf. a? atiii cm tosach cen forcenn gl. qui ante creature exordia
idem esse non desinas, Ml. no d, 15.
•1 Cf. Stokes, Goid. p. 182 : beith fo etoil mak Maire, ' to be under
the unwill of Mary's Son.'
'' An allusion to baptism.
IMRAM BRAIN 15
26. ' Ticfa mdr i-gein ^ far m-bethaibl^
nad bi'a- for^ a forclethaib,''
mac mna nad festar ^ cele,
gebid^ flaith na n-ilmile.^
27. ' Flaith cen tossach cen forcenn,^
doniasat ^ bith co forban,
isai ^^ talam ocus muir,
is mairgsf bias fua etuil.^^
'oe>
28. ' Is he dorigni nime,
ceinmair'- dia m-ba findchride,^^
glanfid ^^ sliiagu ^^ fua ^^ linn glan,"
is he icfes for tedman.^^
29. ' Ni duib uili i" mo labre,2<»
cia atfess -^ a moramre ;
etsed Bran de^^ betho-^ brou^*
a n-di -■' ecnce adfet -^ dou.-''
30. 'Ndtuit28fri lige lesce^^
nachit^'^-troithad do mesce,^^
tinscan imram tar muir glan,^^
dus in rista tir na m-ban.'
a .i. Crist HB. b .i. z\ RE.
1 mot BEHL. ^ biad BE. ^ acht L. ^ fore cleathaib E.
5 fg^^aur a festor H. « gebaid RSL gebait B. ^ mele JI meile B
mene Z. ^ forcen ^6". ^ doroasat R doroasad ^ dorossat ZTdorosat
BS diafostaidh L. '» sic R assai B asai //. " ettuil A' etoil HB
fo setuil E. " sic E cenmair RHB. ^"^ fintcridhe E finchride RBSH.
'* glainfid RS glanfuid H glanfait B glan sidh L. ^^ sic L sluaga RE
slua^ai H inslog B. '*' trc B trie // thar L. ^^ gloin H. ^^ sic RE
tedmoin H. »" huile R. "" labra RE lauhrae H. ^i ciadfes B
ceadfcsar L. ~ sic R di HE do BS. ^ j?V Z bcthai R betha /VZ^Z'.
'^ sic S bro A'i9i¥£ ^w/. Z. '■" «V Z do RHESB. -« adfcat A'. -^ sic
B doa A'Z' ndo H. ^ taitt ZT. =« lescae R lessga i^. ^o nachid RE
nachat Z^y5Z. =*! mesca RH. '^ nglan RBHEL.
i6 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
31. Thereupon the woman went from them, while they
knew not whither she went.^ And she took her branch
with her. The branch sprang from Bran's hand into the
hand of the woman, nor was there strength in Bran's hand
to hold the branch.
32. Then on the morrow Bran went upon the sea. The
number of his men was three companies of nine. One of
his foster-brothers and mates - was set over each of the
three companies of nine. When he had been at sea two
days and two nights, he saw a man in a chariot coming
towards him over the sea. That man also sang thirty^
other quatrains to him, and made himself known to him,*
and said that he was Manannan the son of Ler, and said
that it was upon him to go to Ireland after long ages, and
that a son would be born to him, even Mongan son of
Fiachna — that was the name which would be upon him.
So he sang these thirty quatrains to him :
33. ' Bran deems it a marvellous beauty
In his coracle across the clear sea :
While to me in my chariot from afar
It is a flowery plain on which he rides about.
1 Zimmer renders ' ob sie gegangcn.' But da here means ' whither '
( = Doric Tret, Strachan). Cf. noconfcss da dcochatar, LL. 290 a, 27.
ni fetatar da deodiaid 116 can donluid, Sergl. Cone. 12, etc. In the
sense of 'whether,' da occurs only in the phrase da . . . cenco, 'whether
. or -aoi,^ e.g. : fo kiss da nothiasia ass, fo Idss cenco tiasta, LL. 109a,
30; da fogabad cenco fagbad, rabeindse ar a chind, LL. 51 b, 17.
- Lit. ' men of the same age.'
3 The MSS. again contain only twenty-eight quatrains.
4 Ir. slonmid means to make known one's nam.e, or patronymic, as
in Rawl. B. 502, fo. 73 a, 2 : Bucket a ainm, mac hui Inblce a slonmid,
or one's native place, as in LU. 15 b, 5 : ro iarfaig Finnen a slonniud
de. Asbert friu : de Ultaib dam-sa.
I MR AM BRAIN 17
31. Luid^ in ben iladib^ I'arom^ annadfetatar cia* luid,^
ocus birt a ^ croib lee. Leblaing in chroib di laim Brain co
m-boi for laim inna mnd, ocus ni b6i "" nert i laim Brain do
gabail inna croibe.
32. Luid Bran I'arom arabarach for muir. Tri nonbuir
a li'n. Oinfer forsnaib ^ trib ^ nonburaib ^^ dia ^^ chomaltaib
ocus comaisib. O rob6i da^^ la ocus di aidchi forsin^^
muir, conacci a dochum in fer isin charput ^^ iarsin ^^ muir.
Canaid^'"' in fer hi'sin^'' dano^^ trichait rand n-aile dou,^^
ocus sloindsi -^ dou -^ ocus asbert -- ba he Manannan -'^ mac
Lir, ocus asbert b6i aire tuidecht -^ i n-Erinn far n-aim-
seraib cianaib, ocus nogigned mac uad^-^ .i. Mongan-" mac
Fiachnai,2' ised foridmbiad. Cachain ^s farom in trichait -^
rand sa dou : — ^'^
2^. ' CAine ^^ amre ^^ lasin m-Bran
ina church^n^^ tar muir glan ;^*
OS me^'' im' charput di^" chein,
is mag scothach immareid.
^ iarom adJ. BLS. ^ sic II oadat'l) E. ^ iarsin S oin. HBL.
•* can HE. ' dosluidh E doluid //. « in ^. ^ sic II bai R baoi E
uui B. 8 forna RBSHE. » sic H tri RBSE. " no«muruib H
noenbaraib A' nonbz^ra E. " dca RS de E. i- di RBHE. ^^ forsan
RBSL iorxn. II fo;-an E. " carpat R. ^^ tarsan S. ^^ cana; E et
canoid H. ^^ sin //. ^^ dano om. SL. '^ sic B ndo H do cet.
"^ sloinsid R sloinwsed E sloinid H sloinne B sloindside Z. "^ sic B
do cct. -•- atp^rrt H. -* Monownaw //. ^4 w^echt H ioc/it E.
^ uaide // nuad E. ^ Mogtjan ES. '-'' Ficchnai // Fiachna; R
Fiachla S. '■« cachuin B canuid II. -*» tu'c/ia. E. =" sic B do RS
nd(j //doc E om. /. •'•' sic II cnni RB canai E caini L. •" anux R
am;-rtc //. ^ iiglan yJ/^VS". •' cliaurcluin A' cluiorciiij;/ A", "''nice//.
*• do MS.S.
B
i8 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
34. ' What is a clear sea
For the prowed skiff in which Bran is,
That is a happy plain ^ with profusion of flowers
To me from the chariot of two wheels.
35. ' Bran sees
The number of waves beating ^ across the clear sea :
I myself see in Mag Mon ^
Red-headed flowers without fault.
36. ' Sea-horses glisten in summer
As far as Bran has stretched his glance :
Rivers pour forth a stream of honey
In the land of Manannan son of Ler.
■^7. 'The sheen of the main, on which thou art,
The white hue of the sea, on which thou rowest about.
Yellow and azure are spread out,
It is land, and is not rough.*
38. ' Speckled salmon leap from the womb
Of the white sea, on which thou lookest :
They are calves, they are coloured lambs
With friendliness, without mutual slaughter.^
^ Or Mag Mell may here be a place-name. Cf. § 39. It is the
most frequent designation of the Irish elysium.
- This seems to be the meaning of the verb tibrim, another example
of which occurs in Rev. Celt. xi. p. 130 : tii fuil traich nach tiprai
tonn, which I ought to have rendered ' there is no strand that a wave
does not beat.'
^ ' Plain of Sports,' glossed by ' mare' above, § 23.
* This 1 take to be the meaning of ecomras, the negative of coinras,
' smooth,' which occurs in cornaib cruachaib comrasaib (LL. 276 a, 6),
' with hooped smooth horns.' Stokes conjectures -ras to be cognate
with W. rhathu, 'to file.'
'' i.e. The salmon which Bran sees are calves and are lambs (gloss).
IMRAM BRAIN 19
34. ' A n-as muir glan
don noi ^ broinig ^ ltd. ^ Bran,
is mag meld* co n-immut'' scoth
dam-sa a ^ carput dd roth.
35. ' Atchi Bran
lin tond tibri '' tar muir glan : ^
atchiu cadein ^ i Maig Mon
scotha cennderga ^^ cen ^^ on.
36. ' Taitnet ^^ gabra lir i sam
sella ^^ roisc rosiri ^* Bran,
bruindit ^'^ srotha 1° sriiaim de " mil,
i ^* cri'ch Manannain ^^ maic Lir.
27. ' Li -" na fairgge foratai,
geldod -' mora immerdi,-^
rasert ^^ bude ocus glass,
is talam, nad ecomrass.
38. ' Lingit ich -* bricc ass de -'^ brii
a-*" muir find forsnaicci-"-siu,
it loig, it liain co n-dath,^'*
CO cairddi,^" cen 2° immarbad.^^^
=* .i. it loig ocus it liain na bratana atchi Bran RBHE.
^ donaoi BE don. ix. //. ^ bronig i?Zf broindig B. ^ ata i^^a a S.
* sic E mell cet. ^ imat RE imot H iumat B. '^ sic RE hi H i cet.
"> tipre //til)ra L. ^ sic iYnglan RBES. " budhen Z. >» centerca L.
" cin A'//. 1" taithnit BE. '^ sclli 6-. ^^ rosire />'.S7/^. i^ brunditt B
bruindet E. !» scotha RBEH. ^^ ^/^ a' do BEH. ^"^ hi A' a BEH.
i» Mawonnain /A '* Hi BS. 21 5,v A'Z/ geltot E geltat 77 gcUaid .S"
gcldad L. *- immcroi RB imcraoi H immroi E. -^ roseit IIES.
■■" iaicli II. "^ do //6-/i. ^a i ^. 27 ^^v //£ f^;-naicci ^/>"Z. '^ hiuaain
fO«^(«lal||.olc an lilir //. -^ cairdi A' cuicordu //. ""^ cin A'.
31 imarbath IIEL.
20 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
39. ' Though (but) one chariot-rider is seen
In Mag MelP of many flowers,
There are many steeds on its surface,^
Though them thou seest not.
40. ' The size of the plain, the number of the host,
Colours glisten with pure glory,
A fair stream of silver, cloths ^ of gold,
Afford a welcome with all abundance.
41. 'A beautiful game, most delightful,
They play (sitting) at the luxurious * wine.
Men and gentle women under a bush,
Without sin, without crime.
42. ' Along the top of a wood has swum
Thy coracle across ridges.
There is a wood of beautiful fruit ^
Under the prow of thy little skiff.
43. ' A wood with blossom and fruit.
On which is the vine's veritable fragrance,
A wood without decay, without defect.
On which are leaves of golden hue.
1 ' Pleasant, or Happy Plain.' See note on § 34.
- i.e. There were many hosts near him, and Bran did not see them
(gloss).
^ This rendering rests on the very doubtful connection of drepa
with Lat. drappiis, from which it might be a loan. Should we compare
the obscure line drengaitir (sic legendum ?) dreppa daena, Goid.
p. 176?
* A mere guess at the meaning of imhorbach.
* Lit. ' a wood under mast (acorns) in which is beauty.'
IMRAM BRAIN 21
39. *Ce atchetha^ oinchairptech^
i Maig Meld^ co n-immut * scoth,
fil mor d'echaib^ for'' a'' bru/'"'
cen suidi ^ nad " aicci-siu.
40. * Met in maige, Im int sluaig,^**
taitnet " li'ga ^^ co n-glanbiiaid,^^
findsruth" arggait, drepa^'' oir,
taircet ftiilti^'^ cech '" imroill.^^
41. ' Cluche ^'•' n-6imin 2" n-inmeldag ^^
aigdit^s fri fm n-imborbag^^
fir is -^ mnd mine -^ fo doss,
cen peccad,-'' cen immorboss.-^
42. ' Is far m-barr fedo"^ rosnd,-^
do churchdn ^'> tar indrada,
fil ^^ fid fo mess i m-bi gnoe 1^ ^^
foa ^2 braini ^* do beccnoe.^^
43. ' Fid CO m-bldth 3" ocus torud ^^
forsmbi ^^ fine firbolud,
fid cen erchre,^^ cen esbad,
forsfil'"' duilli co n-6rdath,
* .i. b6i m6r dirimme ina (arrud ocus ni faca Bran RBHE.
^ . i. seg^a E.
^ cetchetha RBE adchcther Z. - oinchairpthech R. ^ sic R mell H
mealt E. ■* imut H iwmat A' iniat E. imad .S'. '' deechaib RL. '° ar RE.
f om. BL. 8 suide RBHE. » nat BH. i" sloig BL. " taithni E.
'2 lighi E ligai H. '^ co lanbuizzV//^ 7/ boaid 7^. " fin«sruth 6"
finndruth 77finnroth E rmdruth L. ^'drcupai 77drcphthaZ^drcplha Z.
" foilti R. ^7 sic R con H. ^^ imroild B imraill E. i» cluithe i?.
■'"' noim?'« II naimiii /i'7)Z'. '^^ ninmcllag S. -- aigliit E aighid 77.
^ JzV R niinorbagh S nimborbad B nim«;bagh E nimorbof 77. '-'■' sic
L om. cet. ^ om. L. -" cocad Z. ^ imarboss 7\.' immorbus B. ^ sic
R feda 7)^^Z fcuda H. '^ ronsna 77 ^o cliaurchan R. »' is 77
^ gnao 77 g;/X' Z" gnoit Z. ^^ fd fo 77. ^ braine A' bruinc .S" bruinne
J/B. »' noi A' naoi Z' naeo ZTna: Z' noa; Z. ^fl blad A? foblal 7Z ^ sic
H torad c^/. ^ formbid RBE. '^ erchra ifi? airchre Z. ^" ffz-sabfil i9.
22 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
44. ' We are from the beginning of creation
Without old age, without consummation ^ of earth,^
Hence we expect not that^ there should be frailty,
The sin has not come to us.
45. ' An evil day when the Serpent went
To the father to his city ! *
She has perverted the times ^ in this world,
So that there came decay which was not original.
46. ' By greed and lust he " has slain us,
Through which he has ruined his noble race :
The withered body has gone to the fold of torment,
And everlasting abode of torture.'^
47. ' It is a law of pride in this world
To believe in the creatures, to forget God,^
Overthrow by diseases, and old age.
Destruction of the soul through deception.
48. ' A noble salvation ^ will come
From the King who has created us,
A white law will come over seas.
Besides being God, He will be man.
^ I take foirbthe to be the neuter form of the passive participle of
forbenifii used as a substantive.
^ i.e. of the grave.
•^ I take mheth to be the 3rd sing, injunctive of bin, with the relative
n prefixed.
■* i.e. to Adam in Paradise.
^ This rendering of saibse [saibsi) ceni is not much better than a
guess. Perhaps saibse is a noun derived from saib, 'flilse.'
^ viz. A, lam.
' Cf. LU. 17 b, 26 : do bithaitreb pcne ocus rege cen nachcrich etir=
LL. 2S1 a, 18 : fl'ci bithaittreb pcne ocus rege cen nach n-dil etir.
* i.e. worshipping idols (gloss).
^ i.e. Christ (gloss).
IMRAM BRAIN 23
44. ' Fil diin 6 thossuch ^ diile
cen aiss, cen foirbthe - n-iire,
ni frescam-^ de mbeth* anguss,
nintaraill^ int immorbus."
45. ' 01c lith dolluid ind nathir ^
cosin n-athir ^ dia chathir,^
sdib si^° ceni ^^ i m-bith che^^
CO m-bu haithbe nad biie.^'
46." ' Ronort a ^^ crois ^^ ocus saint,
tresa n-derbaid ^^ a soirchlaind,^*
ethais corp ^^ crin cro pene
ocus-" bithaittreb rege.-^
47. 'Is recht uabuir-^ i m-bith che-^
cretem-* dule,^'^ dermat n-De,''"'-''
troithad n-galar,^^ ocus diss,
apthu 28 anma -^ tria togdis.
48. ' Ticfa tessarcon uasal b 30
ond ^^ rig dorearuasat,'''^
recht find fugloisfe ^^ muire,
sech bid Dia,^* bid duine.^^
a .i, adrad idal RBHE. b .i. Crht RB.
' sic B tossach R. ^ forpt/z R oirphthi B foirfi H forbti E forbthe Z.
' sic RBS ire%g\m E. ■* dambeat ZTd embed Z. ^ nistaruilt/Z ^ sic
B imorp?« H imarboss R imarbwj- E. ' sic L indathir RB inathair
ES anathoir H. ^ cosinathair R cosindatha?> B cusinathair HE.
* chathair RL. ^^ saibsi ES saibse RBL saithbsi H. ^^ sic R ccna
EH cenu S. 12 che Z ce RBHES. ^^ bue ^ bu he .? buidhe Z.
" 46 ow^ /v. ^^ hi j5Z. ^^ croes HL croeis ^ craos 5"^. ^^ eruhuilt
^erbaid 5. '^ hsaorchlaoi«d ^ soercloinn //saorclaind E. '^ cona
j5 xp. 716 H. 20 oc ^ -1 rede Z' rcdie // rcidhc SL. 22 oabair Z'Z.
23 ce RBHEL, ^ credim i? creidem ^ credium // credo Z. ^n duii
j?^. 26 (le RBHE. 27 ngalair A'. 28 ^plha Z'Z' apta HE apad ^.
29 anmo H. ^ huasal A'Z'. "i hond RB on ZfZ. *- dorcaroassat R
dorearossat ^ZTdorea rosat S dorear6sadd E dord rosat Z. ^ fogluaisfe
^£. 3* bidia E bidea 5. ^'^ biduine ES.
24 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
49. ' This shape, he on whom thou lookest,
Will come to thy parts ; ^
'Tis mine to journey to her house,^
To the woman in Line-mag.^
50. ' For it is Moninnan, the son of Ler,
From the chariot in the shape of a man,
Of his progeny will be a very short while
A fair man in a body of white clay.*
51. ' Monann, the descendant of Ler, will be
A vigorous bed-fellow ■' to Caintigern : "
He shall be called to his son in the beautiful world,
Fiachna will acknowledge him as his son.
52. ' He will delight '' the company of every fairy-knoll,
He will be the darling of every goodly land.
He will make known secrets — a course of wisdom —
In the world, without being feared.
53. * He will be in the shape of every beast,
Both on the azure sea and on land,
■ He will be a dragon before hosts at the onset,^
He will be a wolf of every great forest.
1 i.e. to Ireland.
2 i.e. to the wife of Fiachna, king of the Ulster Dalriada, whose
royal seat was Rathmore, in Moylinny (Linemag), co. Antrim,
3 i.e. ' the Conception of Mongan ' (gloss).
* i.e. Mongan son of Fiachna (gloss).
^ Lit. ' will lie a vigorous lying.'
^ ' Fair Lady,' the name of Fiachna's wife. Gilla Modutu, in his
poem Senchas Ban (LL. 140 a, 31), written in 1147 A.D., makes her
the daughtci of Demman Dublacha's son.
^ This is a guess at the meaning of moithfe. I take it to stand for
vi6ithfe, from moithaim, mod. maothaim, 'I soften.'
s i froiss may mean ' in a shower ' ; but fross is also used meta-
phorically in the sense of ' attack, onset.' Cf.
IMRAM BRAIN 25
49. ' In delb he ^ nofethi-su
rothicfa ^ it' lethe-su,
arumthd echtre^ dia tisf'
cosin mndi i Linemaig.'"'
50. ' Sech is Moninndn* mac Lir
asin ^ charput cruth ^ ind fir,
biaid^ dia chlaind densa angair*
fer cdin ^ i curp criad ^'^ gilJ^ ^^
51. 'Conlee° Monann^^ niaccu ^^ Lirn 1*
liithlige la Caintigirn,!'^
gerthair dia mac i m-bith gnou,^''
adndidma ^'^ Fiachna mac n-dou.'*
52. ' Moithfe ^^ sogndiss ^o each side,
bid tretel -^ each dagthire,
adfii runa, rith ecni,"'^'-
isin bith cen a ecH."^
53. ' Biaid2-i i fethoP^ cech ^c mil
itir glasmuir ocus tir,
bid drauc ^'' re m-buidnib i froiss,^^
bid cu allaid cech indroiss.
a .i. Compert Mongain RBFIE. b Mongan RBHE.
'^ A. coiblige //E.
1 delpfeth S. 2 rohicfa A'BSE rotaficfa // roicfa Z. ^ echtra R.
* Monindan R Manannan ^56" Manonnan //Manandan EL. ° isin^.
^ chruth B. "^ bicd A'BE bicid // l^ed S. ^ angoir JI.S densangair
A'BL den sin gair L. '■' caoin />'5'. ^-' cria(a)d A'. " adgil B ngil //
glain L gloin S. ^^ Monand R Monunn // Mananw E Mannain 6\
'^ maca A' mac ^//Z'Z mic .S". ^* Limn SL inhhn //. ^''^ Caointigirn
B Caointigirn« S Cainligirnw Z. "' gnu RBHE giioe S gnae Z.
" adndima S atindma // aitidin Z. ^* sic E nd6 cet. ^^ nioitfi H
maithfed Z. 2" sognas Zi^ZZ'. ^i treilil B trctild //irctil S drotel Z.
-■^ ecne A'/:? eccna //egna S cicne Z. ^^ ccle RBEL cccla // ccla ^'.
" bieid /jf/ZS- bied £•. '^ fetul 5. 2« ceca II. '■" sic RB draic HES
draig Z. '^ foiss R.
26 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
54. ' He will be a stag with horns of silver
In the land where chariots are driven,
He will be a speckled salmon in a full pool,
He will be a seal, he will be a fair-white swan.
55. ' He will be throughout long ages ^
An hundred years in fair kingship,^
He will cut down battalions,^ — a lasting grave —
He will redden fields, a wheel around the track.
56. ' It * will be about kings with a champion
That he will be known as a valiant hero,
Into the strongholds of a land on a height
I shall send an appointed end^ from Islay."
57. ' High shall I place him with princes,
He will be overcome by a son of error; ^
Moninnan, the son of Ler,
Will be his father, his tutor.
^ i.e. post mortem (gloss).
" i.e. famous, without end {anforcnedachl cf. LU. 26 b, 27), i.e.
in future corpore (gloss).
2 Cf. iiosilis rot, LU. 66 b, 26.
^ The translation of this quatrain is very uncertain, as the Irish text
is hopelessly corrupt in several places,
^ As to this meaning of airchend see Windisch, Ber. d. siichs.
Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften, 19.7, 1890.
^ i.e. proprium iloch (gloss). Here iloch is obscure to me. One
expects u word for 'island.' Islay is also referred to in Boirche's
poem on the death of Mongan (Four Masters, A. D. 620). According
to Cinaed ua Hartacain ( + 975), Mongan was killed by a host from
Cantire (lafein Cindtire, LL. 31 b, 42).
^ This refers to Mongan's death at the hands of Artur mac Bicoir.
IMRAM BRAIN 27
54. ' Bid dam co m-bendaib arggait
i mruig 1 i n-agtar- carpait,
bid ecne^ brecc il-lind* Ian/
bid rdn, bid ela findbdn.
55. ' Biaid tre bithu " siri ^ ''
cet m-bledne® hi findrigi,lJ
silis lergga, lecht imchian,
dercfid ^ roi ^'^ roth " imm rian.^^
56. ' Bid 13 imm rigu 1* la i^ fennid i«
bid lath i*" gaile fri aicni,!^
i n-dindach ^'■' mroga for aa
fochicher^" airchend a Ili.^^^
57. ' Art arungen - la flaithi,23
gebthir-^ fo mac n-imraichni,^^
sech bid Moninnan-'' mac Lir
a athir,-" a fithithir.'*
** .i. post mortem RBHE. "^ .i. amra infoircnedeg .i. in fut«n)
.i. in corpore B .i. amra inforcnedmc [j/c] .i. in fut^^ro cor^or^ H
(corporis E). <= i. proprium iloch /i'i> (iluch //).
1 mrug //. - indagthar J? aghtor Zf agthair S. ^ hecne A\ * fo
linw S. 5 lain RBHE. « bitha i?^ bithui H bithe £. ^ sira RE
siora ^ sirai £ sire L. ^ sic R bliadna B blia. //. * deircfet A'
dercfet B d^rgfuid // deircf. E dergf. S denaicfcd L. '" roe // re E.
" rath R. ^^ imren RSL imrioa« // umrian E. ^^ om. RBESL.
'•* biid riga //imrig do SL riga R. ''^ lia H. ^^ feinnid /? fendidh E
fendigh 6 lindidhe Z. " laith //£. >8 ^^v RB aicne 5'// ccnc Z:
haichne L. ^^ andindoch ^9. ^ focichair Z'. -' aill R ailli ^ aillie
//■. ■'- arungen A' arangen £".9/ doruigen H. '-^ flaithe A'/i failhe L.
-■• gebthair A' gebtair B yclnor // gcblhar E gebtir L. '^ nimragne RB
nimraithne SE. ^ Moininnan B Manannan ES Monannan IJL.
"" athair RB. » fithidir HE.
28 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
58. ' He will be — his time will be short — ^
Fifty years in this world :
A dragonstone from the sea will kill him ^
In the fight at Senlabor.^
59. ' He will ask a drink from Loch Ld,*
While he looks at the stream of blood,
The white host * will take him under a wheel'' of clouds
To the gathering where there is no sorrow.
60. ' Steadily then let Bran row,
Not far to the Land of Women,
Emne'' with many hues ^ of hospitality
Thou wilt reach before the setting of the sun.'
61. Thereupon Bran went from him. And he saw an
island. He rows round about it, and a large host was
gaping and laughing. They were all looking at Bran
and his people, but would not stay to converse with them.
They continued to give forth gusts ^ of laughter at them.
Bran sent one of his people on the island. He ranged
himself with the others, and was gaping at them like
the other men of the island. He^^ kept rowing round
^ i.e. in corpora (gloss).
- i.e. this is the ' Death of Mongan,' a stone from a sling was thrown
at him (gloss) ; i.e. a stone at the fight in Mongan's stronghold (gloss).
^ i.e. a stronghold (gloss). Senlabor has not been identified.
^ Not identified. ^ i.e. the angels. ^ 2.^. in a chariot.
^ Cf. note on § 19.
^ The lash dath, ' colour,' is often used in the sense of ' kind, sort.'
^ treftech, a derivative from trefet, 'blowing.' Cf. trefeit i. seitedh,
ut est : for trefeit a tona II. 3, 18, p. 51, and see O'Dav. p. 122, s.v.
treifet. In Laws i. p. 126, 5 (cf. p. 144, i) it means ' bellows.'
1" viz. Bran.
IMR AM BRAIN 29
58. 'Bied,^ bes"'^ n-gairit a ree,''^
coicait-' m-bledne* i m-bith chee,''
oircthi ^ ail dracoin '' din ^ muir 'j
isind ni'th i Senlabuir.^"
59. 'Timgera dig al-Loch Ldut^^*'
intan frisseill " sidan i- crdu/^
gebtha^* in drong find fu roth nel
dund'^ nassad, nad etarlen.^''
60. 'Fossad airsin ^^ imraad ^^ Bran,
ni chi'an co ti'r inna m-ban,
Emne co n-ildath ^^ fele
ricfe re fuiniud'-*^ grene.' ^^
61. Luidi-2 Bran liad^^ larum CO n-acci^* in n-insi. Im-
meraad-'^ immecuairt,-*' ocus slog mar 2'' oc ginig-^ ocus
gairechtaig.^^ Docciti's uili Bran ocus a muintir, ocus ni
anti's^*^ fria n-accaldaim. Adaigtis treftecha gaire impu.
F6idis Bran fer dia muintir isin n-insi. Reris ^^ lia celiu ^^
ocus adaiged ''^ ginig ^'^ f6u ^^ amal '■^^ d6ini 2" inna hinse
^ .i. in corpore^^ .i. corpora E. ^ .i. is 1 Aided Mongdin clochdn
(cloch BHE) asin tabaill rolaad do RBHE. « .i. dun RB .i. dia dun
H .\. oiged '^longain add. E. ^ A. post mortem RBE.
^ sic R bidead nS biaid H. ^ bess B. ^ cocuit A'. ■* mbledna B
mbliedna R. ^ cc R. ^ oircti RBH oircte E oircthe L oircfid S.
' drocain S drocoin L. ^ don HE di Z, " senlabair RB sendlapair
S. ^» digalloclaib[!] Z illoch lo // hilogh lou 6' log R. " friseill
RE frisell S roscall H. '- fian 6'. ^^ crou RSE cro H crua SL.
" gaibthe Z gebta HE. ^^ sic RSL don H do BE. i« edarlcn A'
c/crlcn S. '^ airsan A' icrsan Z/' irsan L. '" imram ZfZ'. ^^ ildach
A". '^" JiV Z fuincad A' fuine Z' {\.\\x\cdh 11 fuinigh E. ^' ngrcnc
RUBE. 22 j,v Z/ luide RB luid 5ZZ. -' hoa.i A'j5. ^4 conaacai
A* <-(7«nicc Z. '-^^ J/V /Z imraad RBSE imroad Z. -'' immccuaid
R imcuaird -S". ^ mor HE. "^ sic R accignid H giggnig E
gign/^-- S. '-" garechlaig A'. •'" sic Z antais A'Z' fantais B. ^' rerais
HE. ^- lea ciielca RB. *•' atdagat A' A' adagliat A adagalt .S'atagliiiid
H adacht Z. •'^ v/V R gigni A'iY gignid >V gine E. '^ foo RBH.
* amol /Z ^ ndoini A' ndoinc E,
30 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
about the island. Whenever his man came past Bran, his
comrades would address him. But he would not converse
with them, but would only look at them^ and gape at them.
The name of this island is the Island of Joy. Thereupon
they left him there.
62. It was not long thereafter when they reached the
Land of Women. They saw the leader of the women at
the port. Said the chief of the women : ' Come hither on
land, O Bran son of Febal ! Welcome is thy advent ! '
Bran did not venture to go on shore. The woman throws
a ball of thread to Bran straight over his face. Bran put
his hand on the ball, which clave to his palm. The thread of
the ball was in the woman's hand, and she pulled the coracle
towards the port. Thereupon they went into a large house,
in which was a bed for every couple,'-^ even thrice nine beds.
The food that was put on every dish vanished not from
them. It seemed a year to them that they were there, — it
chanced^ to be many years. No savour was wanting to
them.4
^ Zimmer, adopting the corrupt reading of R (na mud instead of
iiammd) renders : ' sondern blickte die frauen an.' No women have
been mentioned.
" Zimmer renders 'ehepaar.' But there is no reason for being so
particular.
^ For this use oi ecmaing ='' it really was,' cf. Ir. Texte iii. p. 17 :
'Andarliunt ba sMaiged Jer,
Goidil CO Icr iar n-gail gairg :
ecciiiuiiig ha rl Midi Jiidir
doluid do ddiin cknaig aird,'
' Methought it was a hosting of men,
Gaels in numbers after fierce prowess ;
But it was the king of great Meath,
Going to the company of a noble gathering.'
■' i.e. every man found in his food and drink the taste that he
especially desired, a common incident in Irish story-telling.
I MR AM BRAIN 31
olchene. Immeraad ^ in n-inis immeciiairt. Intan dotheged
a fer muintire sech Bran, adglaitis- a choceli. Nisnaic-
cilled san ^ immorru, acht dusneced ^ namma ^ ocus
adaiged ginig*^ fduJ Is ed^ ainni inna hinse so Inis
Subai.^ Funacabsat and larum.
62. Ni bu chi'an larsin corancatar tir inna^^ m-ban, co
n-accatar braine ^^ inna m-ban isin phurt. Asbert ^^ t6isech
inna m-ban :^'^ 'Tair ille isa^* tir, a Brain maic Febail ! Is
fochen do thichtu.'^^ Ni lamir^*^ Bran techt^" isa^^ tir.
Dochuirethar in i'-* ben certli do Braun -^ tar a gniiis each
n-direch. Focheird -^ Bran a laim for 2- in (jertli. Lil --^ in
chertle dia dernainn-^"* B6i snathe ^^ inna certle hil-laim
inna mna, consreng in curach^*^ dochum^^ puirt.^^ Lotir^^
iarum 20 hi tegdais '-^^ main ^^ Arranic imde ceche ^^
lanamne"^ and .i. tri noi n-imdce. In praind dobreth
for cech meis nir'irchran '''^ doib. Ba bledin ^'^ donarfas ^''
d6ib buith ^^ and. Ecmaing batir ilbledni.^'-^ Nistesbi
nach •^^ mlass.
* immaraad B imraad RHE. " atglaitis RB. ^ sa RB sai E.
* dosnecad J?BE doneciud H doneca Z. ^ namna H. "^ ginich R
ginaich E giccnid H gigned B ginach L. ^ fou H foo cei. ^ om. S,
9 sufa E. " sic R na Z^ina EBL. " brane B. i- asmbort RBE.
esmuheri //. ^'^ isin-ban om. L inna mban om. E. '•• isin RBHES.
J° \.6\Aecht B tiaM/a E. i" lamair BEH. " toct H. ^^ sic R isin
HESL. ^9 sic R om. -" urauw B Bran R br. cct. -^ foccird R foceirt
B foc^ni E fuoceitt //. - ar RBSE. ^'' lilis //. ^* dcrnaind //
derna RBEL derwi? S. ^ sic HS insnath R insnathe cct. -" in
curach om. U. ^ andochonib RB andochum HSE. -^ poirt RU.
2» lolar A'6^1otor S. ** om. H. =" techdaiss RB techdis Z. "" moair
H. ■'•■' each U cecha BH gacha Z. '^ Idnamna UL lanamnx B
lanonino //. ^ nircrcracli .S". •'"' blcdhin Z bl. R blia. f/bliad.iin B.
^ donarfasa RB donarf«5sa II donadljas /,. '■'^ bith R hclh BE
dobit II lug/; (?) U. ^'•' ilchcta blcdhiic .V bliadna RBUIJE.
*' each U.
32 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
63. Home-sickness seized one of them, even Nechtan
the son of Collbran.^ His kindred kept praying Bran that
he should go to Ireland with him. The woman said to
them their going would make them rue. However, they
went, and the woman said that none of them should touch
the land, and that they should visit and take with them the
man whom they had left in the Island of Joy.
64. Then they went until they arrived at a gathering at
Srub Brain.- The men asked of them who it was came
over the sea. Said Bran : ' I am Bran the son of Febal,'
saith he. However, the other saith : ' We do not know such
a one, though the Voyage of Bran is in our ancient stories.'
65. The man ^ leaps from them out of the coracle. As
soon as he touched the earth of Ireland, forthwith he was a
heap of ashes, as though he had been in the earth for many
hundred years. 'Twas then that Bran sang this quatrain :
^ He was the hero of a tale, the title of which figures in the list of
sagas in LL. p. 170 b as Eclitra Ncctain viaic Alfroinit. This tale is
not now known to exist ; it probably contained the incidents here
narrated.
^ O'Curry, MS. Mat. p. 477, note 15, says that there are two places
of this name— one in tlie west of Kerry, the other, now called Stroove
or Shruve Brin, at the entrance to Lough Foyle, a little to the south of
Inishowen Head. As the ancient Irish imagined Mag Mell to be in
the south or south-west of Ireland (see Stokes, Rev. Celt, xv, p. 438),
it seems natural that Bran coming from there should arrive at a place
in Kerry. Otherwise, from Bran's connection with Lough Foyle,
so called from his father Febal, the latter place might seem to be
meant. See its dindsenchas in Rev. Celt. xv. p. 450, where Srub
Brain is said to mean ' Raven's Stream.' Stokes thinks that this Srub
Brain is the place in Donegal ; but, considering that numbers 50 to 55
of the Rennes Dindsenchas all refer to places in Kerry, I believe the
West Kerry place is meant.
* viz. Ncclitan mac Collbrain.
IMRAM BRAIN 33
63. Gabais eulchaire^ fer^ n-diib^ .i. Nechtan mac Coil-
brain.* Aitched ^ a chenel fri Bran aratiasad " leis dochom
n-;^renn. Asbert in ben robad aithrech ind faboll.^ Dolo-
tar^ cammoe, ocus asbert in ben arnatuinsed^ nech di'ib^*^ a^^
tir ocus arataidlitis leiP^' in fer fodnacaibset^^ i n-Inis Subai^*
tar essi ^^ a cheli.
64. DoUotar I'arum condatornachtatar ^^ in dail i Sruib
Brain. ^^ larmifochtatar ^^ side d6ib ci'a^'^ dolluide^o a^i
muir. Asbert^- in fer:-^ 'Messe,' ar se,-^ 'Bran mac
Febail.' 'Ni beram-'' aichni^*' inni^" sin,' ol a chele-^
didiu.-'' 'Ata-^*' hi senchasaib linni chene^^ Imram
Brain.'
65. Dochurethar uadib ^^ in fer assin ^^ churuch.^* Amal
conranic^^ side^^ fri talmain"' inna^^ Herenn, ba hiaithred ^^
fochetoir amaH*^ bid i talmain'^^ nobeth triasna hilcheta*^
bliedne.'^^ Is and cachain Bran in rand so : **
1 sic R colcaire U. ^ neach H. ^ sic Z7ndib RB. * Ollbrain H
Coldbrain B Al(a)bruind Z. ^ atchid U. « tia U tisa E i\?,cd S.
7 infaboll C//aball B faball RSEL fabuld H. » dalotar U. " tuidced
H tuinsi E tuised S. i" dib MSS. " i HE. ^^ gm. H. " fonacobsat
Z furfacaibset RBSEH, ^^ namell U no na mcll add. RBI! inis
nainc Z. ■" eis .S". ^® r(7;matornachtatar R t-^wtornachtatar C/conat-
trochtador S conatornacadur B ftJwtotorrachtatar H. ^' Briuin S.
^ iarmofuchtatar U iarmofoachtatar // som add. RBH. •" cidh E.
«> sic R dolluid U doluid S. -i in RUBS HE iarsin Z. " asber
RBE ispir H. ^ Bran UL. "^ orsc U om. R. "^ beram U.
^ aichnc R achni U aithcne B cVidiu add. BII. ^ ani C/. "^ du'li
£/cheliu RB. -'■' diobh E dihiu £/ dihiu /v' didhu Z dhiu i5 ol-didiu
om. H. 3u ta .9. ^i om. SHE chena: >5 chena RU, ^' huadaib R
uadha E. '^ isin R. ^ chaurach R. '^'' fowranaic R condranic U.
^ siom Zi'^sim Z. ^ talmannaib U. "^ na U. ^^ luithred A' luathrcd
U. « «V A'. « talom 6^ talam Z. •»= hilcctaib /Z^i". ''^ blia. U.
'^ om. HL.
34 THEVOYAGEOFBRAN
* For Collbran's son great was the folly
To lift his hand against age,
Without any one casting a wave of pure water ^
Over Nechtan, Collbran's son.'
66. Thereupon, to the people of the gathering Bran told
all his wanderings from the beginning until that time. And
he wrote these quatrains in Ogam, and then bade them
farewell. And from that hour his wanderings are not
known.
^ i.e. holy water.
THE END
IMRAM BRAIN 35
' Do ^ mace Chollbrain ^ ba mdr bdiss ^
turcbdil* a Idme fri diss,
cen ^ nech dobir "^ toind usci glain
for Nechtdn for^ mac CoUbrain.'^
66. Adfet iarsin ^ Bran ^^ a imthechta uli 6 thossuch ^^
cotici sin 12 (Jq lucht ind airechtais,^^ qcus scribais inna
rundu ^^ so tre ogum. Ocus celebrais d6ib iarsin,^^ ocus ni
fessa 1° a imthechta 6nd liair sin.^'^
^ H omits the quatrain. - Alabraind L OWmain E. ^ is baiss Z
mor. m. U. ^ torgud U targud L togba// ii. ^ can U. ® doueir j5
dorratad U doratad Z dorad Z. '^ ow. £/5Z. ^ Alabrain Z Olluhr^z'w
Z. 3 cw. R dowo ZZ did'zw Zf. ^^ ow. RBHE. ^^ otosach uili ZT,
^- ow. Z^ codere Z cod^r [j/c] Z. ^^ do — airechtais ^w. RBHE.
" rundnu ^rundaZ. ^^ ian/m Z. -"^ ies RBE. ^^ nifess oanuairsin
allee cussaniu anErind. Finit. Z'^a imtechta otsin. Finet do \3hxan E.
FINIT
NOTES
1. a tlrib ingnath. This curious use of what is, apparently, the
undeclined adjective after the noun is also found in the phrase tre bithu
sir, i8. See Windisch, s.v. sir.
ib. , for Idnr. The old dative form Idur is found in H alone, while
all the other MSS. have the later form Idr. Similarly, in § 2 A', and
in § 62, B alone have preserved the dative form Braun.
ib., robdtar ind liss duntai. The plural of the word less, which
generally means either the space enclosed by earthen ramparts, or the
buildings in the centre of the enclosure, seems here to be used of the
ramparts themselves. That this may have been the original meaning,
the analogy of Ir. raith and Teutonic tt'in seems to show.
2. ar a bindi. I do not know what to make of the form bindefn or
bindim which most of the MSS. have.
ib., isin. Most of the MSS. leave out this Old Irish form,
ib., cachain. None of the MSS. have preserved the Old Irish form
cechuin.
3. This quatrain is composed in the metre called rannaigecht cethar-
chubaid recomarcack (Thurneysen, Mittelir, Verslehren, p. 143).
There is internal assonance in Emain : samail, fora : glano.
ib., abaill. It is possible that abaild is the older form ; at least this
may be concluded from abailt, the spelling of E, and apuillt, that of H.
An Old Ir. abald would agree well with the A. S. apuldr.
ib., dofed. This I take to be the ist sing, of the present indicative
oi dofedim, "I bring,' ex to-ved-S.
ib., glano. Here and in 12 (trilsi glano) B alone preserves this old
form, the genitive sing, of the i-stem glain. Other MSS. write glana
as if it were the nom. plur. oiglan, ' pure.'
4. This and all the following quatrains are composed in various
kinds of debide. There are two examples of debide garit in 34, 35 ;
36
NOTES 37
but the stricter laws of poetical composition, as formulated in the cSrus
bard cona bardiii {JIhwrntysen, Mittelir. Vers/.) and by O'MolIoy, are
not consistently observed in this old poetry. The rule, e.g., that the
final words of the second and fourth lines should exceed those of the
first and third by one syllable, is not carried through. A hiatus is
allowed to stand where, according to O'MoUoy's rule (Thurneysen, I.e.,
p. 127), synizesis should take place, e.g., asa taitni \ hi ndfind, 24, os
mi I ?■;«' charput di ck<!in, 33, etc. Again, there are many lines in which
alliteration is entirely wanting. This rudimentary character of the
poetry seems to speak for its age.
ib. , gahra rditt. The 'kenning' groig mic Lir referred to on p. 4,
note 5, also occurs in a quatrain quoted in li, 3. 18, p. 6^ : cuthal .i.
tlaithf ut dixit in file :
' Dia m-\bad] cuthal craidi tlaitk,
rombtithad for morttiind muaith,
matain mir dochoid, ba mock,
groidh [leg. groig] mic Lir iar loch/ot[^fi\uaid.'
ib., toibgel tondat. The adjective attribute is put before the noun,
as in ilmtli m-brecc vi-ban, 19.
ib., cetheSir cossa. The old feminine form cethcoir being no longer
used or understood, the Mss., with two exceptions {HB), have either
misread or altered it. As to the four feet on which the island rests, of.
'The Voyage of Mael Duin,' Rev. Celt. x. p. 63, as translated by
Stokes : ' Then they see another island (standing) on a single pedestal,
to wit, one foot supporting it. And they rowed round it to seek a way
into it, and they found no way thereinto ; but they saw down in the
base of the pedestal a closed door under lock. They understood that
that was the way by which the island was entered.'
5. Findarggat. The use of the undeclined form is curious. In 8,
Arggatndtil stands in apposition to the dative 7naig.
6. findriine. It is possible i\idX findbruine {B) is the older form.
7. In the description of Mag Meld in Serglige Conculaiftd {It. Texte,
p. 218) a similar quatrain occurs without reference to the Hours.
' Atdt ar in dortis sair
tri bile do chorcorglain,
dia n-gair in inlaith biian bldith
don macraid assin rigrdith.'
38 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
8. datho. Here, and in 13, ^5 alone preserves this old form of the
gen. sg. of the u-stem dath.
ib., moithgretho. Most of the MSS. have inciter gretha — a blunder,
having arisen from confusing the mark of aspiration over the first t with
the horizontal stroke used as a compendium for er. B and S have
preserved the final 0.
9. ^cSiniud. Perhaps £c6ine [B, H) is the right reading.
ib., etargnath rhyming with nirath shows that through loss of stress
gndth has become short. Compare such rhymes as tan: crithlam.
Salt, 1456.
ib., nl bi'i nach garg fri cruais. I have no doubt that crois, croais of
the MSS. stands for criiais, just as clois, cloais in the next line is for
ch'iais ; oa evidently was the spelling of the archetypus for the more
usual iia; cf. oas, do}'oasat, oad, load, etc., infra. Z, reading bit as a
monosyllable, inserts guth to make up the seven syllables.
li.fla. My rendering is taken from O'Reillyyfa {iorjiadk ? ), and is
very doubtful. Perhapsy/rt is cognate with W. gwy, and means ' water.'
ib., Ill frit hid bid a da. The same phrase occurs in LU. 64 a, 23 :
nl frlthid bid essine em .i. iil inund ocus t'ndogabdil, 'This is not the
same as carrying (lit. taking) birds,' says Medb, referring to the way
in which Laeg carries the head of an enemy on his back. As to cla =
ci!o, meaning ' haze ' or perhaps ' hue,' cf. O'Cl. deann ccidheamhain .i.
H n6 c^o amhail chio bealtaine.
12. trilsi glano. Cf. the note on ^/a«(7, 3.
13. etatho, if I read rightly, seems the gen. oi e-tath, the opposite of
tath .i. searg, 'dryness, decay, consumption,' O'Cl. and P. O'C.
ib., flno Singrindi. The genitive attribute is put before the noun, as
in de betliobrou, 2(), fuie firboliid, 43. See Rev. Celt. v. 350-51.
15. In the description of Mag Meld quoted above from Serglige
Conculaind a similar quatrain occurs :
' A tat ar in doriis tiar
isind dit hi fuyiend grian
graig n-gabor n-glas, brcc a mofig,
is araile corcordond.'
ib., ualann. I have taken this to be a sister-form of oland, ' wool.'
Cf. uamun and omtin, 'fear.' But it might be a word cognate with
ualach, 'burden.'
16. dofeith. This seems cognate with dofaith, 'ivit' (Wind, s.v.),
NOTES ^ 39
dufaid {dofoid), ' venit,' Trip. Life, p. 72, 16, antl tiiidim, ' I come,'
Fel. Index. Z changes to dofaeth, ' will fall.'
17. dond lice leiir. Another such musical stone is mentioned in the
following lines from Togail Brtiidne Da Chocm (H. 3. 18, p. 711) :
' do thiinpdn crida is fin nidin,
biniiithir lie Locha Ldig.'
' thy timpan of bronze, it is worth a treasure,
more melodious than the stone of Loch Ldig.'
19. besti. This form occurs twice in the Wiirzburg glosses, 6 b, 23 :
bisu dagdziine, ' who may be a good man,' ib. 24 : bcsu maith. It
should be compared with ccsii, ' although it be,' and seems to be made
up of the 3rd pars. sing, injunctive of dlu, with an unexplained pro-
nominal sufiix -st(.
20. esnach, if I read rightly, may be cognate with esnad, ' music,
song,' which is sometimes used of the notes or cries of animals, as,
e.g., esnad daim, ' the bellowing of the stag.'
21. each dgi. Though this is the reading of none of the MSS., R
alone coming near it, yet it seems to me highly probable, age, ' period,'
seems a masc. io-stem; cf. LU. 134 b, 13 : tdnic de int age hi sin.
22. erfuid. This is a very doubtful reading, based upon the ailler
find of L.
24. i n-adig. This old spelling of adaig, preserved by R and E,
caused L to alter into ina iig — mod. ina dtigh.
25. diib. Though none of the MSS. offers it, this old dissyllabic
form is demanded by the metre, just as in Salt. 375 : samlaim cech di[i]!>
fo feib. Cf. Salt. 437.
28. findchride. The spelling of the archetypus was no doubt
finchride, which most of the MSS. retain.
29. de hetho brou. The only one among the many meanings of br6
that seems to fit here is one given by O'Clery, . i. iomad.
32. isin charput iarsin muir. Thus in Serglige Conculaind (Ir.
Texte, p. 225) Manannan comes in a chariot across the sea :
' Atchiu dar in muir ille —
ninaceiid nacli mcraige —
marcach in tnara mongaig,
ni lenand do sithlongaib.'
ib., nogigned mac tiad. Sec Compert Mongdin, printed infra, p. 42.
40 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
35. cennderga. L reads cen terca, a good example of the wilful
alterations of this version.
41. Simin. Cf. the spelling dimin, Goid. p. 20, li,
43. dttilli CO n-ordath. Cf. the following quatrain in the description
of Mag Meld quoted above :
' Atd crand i n-dorus liss,
ni ht'tig cocetul friss,
crajid airgit ristatin gHan,
cosmail fri hdr a ro}iiani.'
48. dortariiasat seems corrupt. It does not rhyme with htiasal.
I have translated it as if it were doriiasat with the pronoun of the ist
pers. plural (-r-) infixed.
49. Indelbhe. Cf. combad M Find Molc Cumaill Mongdn, LU. 133a,
25. This construction reminds one of a similar one in Anglo-Saxon.
50. Moninndn. A hypocoristic form of Manannan, also found in
LU. 133 a, 24. Cf. Monann, 51.
ib. , i curp criad gil. Cf. LU. 18, 22 : Hi!le 7 En5c inacorpaibcrlad
etir aingUb nii/ic—'L'L. 280 a, 51. — B, reading criad ^s a monosyllable,
alters gil into ad-gil to make up the seven syllables.
51. coulee. This old form, the 3rd sing, of the s-future oi con-ligim,
was no longer understood by the glossator. From our passage the
word with the gloss got into Cormac's Glossary (Transl. p. 49).
ib., maccu. None of the Mss. have preserved this Old Ir. word,
which seems to have become obsolete very early.
ib., Lirn. The n is here a merely graphic addition to have complete
assonance for the eye.
ib., adndidma, 3rd sg. of the red. future of ad-damim, with infixed
pronoun. Cf. atumdidmtt, 'Thou wilt acknowledge me,' Fel. Epil.
494.
52. adjii, 3rd sg. of the s-future of adftadaim. Cf. adJias-YsIa, ' I
shall relate,' Salt. 1785.
55. stlis, 3rd sg. of the s-future oi sligim.
56. I have not been able to restore this quatrain, which has been
handed dow-. in a very corrupt form in all mss. Most of ihem leave
out bid in the first line, which may be right.
ih. , fochicher airchend a Hi. Stokes thinks that airchend \\&xq.=
W. arbcjin, ' a chieftain.' The translation would then be, ' I shall send
a chieftain out of Islay,' which would refer to Artur Mac Bicoir.
NOTES 41
57. arimghu This I take to be the ist sg. of the red. future of
arginu, with infixed pron. of the 3rd person.
58. bes n-gairit. As to bes with following relative «, cf. Ml.
54 a, 4 : bes n-diithrachtach J. diiarngir-som beta n-diithrachtaig a
gniniai-som do dia.
ib. , oircthi. This seems the 3rd sg. pres. ind. of oircim with affixed
personal pronoun.
59. Loch Ldu. In the glossed copy of Cinaed hiia hArtacain's poem
beginning Fianna bdlar i n-Emain (Eg. 1782, fo. 53 a, 2) I find the
following gloss on the line mentioning Mongan's death (see above, p.
26, note 5) : J. fian Chind-Ti'ri romarb Mongan ar brii Locha Lo no
Locha Itmcil (Menci77). A Loch Lo is also repeatedly mentioned in
Togail Brtiidne Da Chocic.
\h.,gJbtha. This looks like the 3rd sg. of the red. future oi gabim
(gcbid) with an affixed personal pronoun.
61. oc ginig. Most of the MSS. have gignig, which is obscure to
me. Ginig seems the dat. fem. of a word ginach, a derivative of gin,
' mouth.'
ib., rerz's. This seems the 3rd sg. of the s-pret. of a verb reritn,
the 3rd sg. rcl. of the pres. ind. of whicli occurs in LU. 133 a, 10:
i7itan reras in cath diarailiii, ' When one army is drawn up (ranged)
against the other.'
63. iulchaire. Though this word sometimes has the general sense of
'longing,' as in Echtra Condla, 4 {gabais eSlchaire iarom intii Condla
iinmon tniuii atchonnairc) it seems originally to have denoted ' longing
for home, home-sickness'; from cW, 'home,' and -ra/r^=W. -carcdd.
As to this meaning of dol, cf. the following gloss from Harl. 52S0, fo.
49 b, 2 : eol .i. gnath, tit est :
' Rdnic coa euol fin an fcr
tar gach Icr co n-ilur glond,'
and see Rev. C. xiii. p. 2. In LL. 170 b, 30, for coa seol read coa eol,
' to his home,' as in BB. 402, 45. dia eol, ib. 403 a, 2.
65. cen neck dobir toind itsci glain. Tiie line has one syllable in
excess. Perhaps dorat, ' who gave,' is a better reading than dobir, ' who
gives.'
APPENDIX
Compert Mongain.^
B6i Fiachnje Lurga athair Mong^in, bo hoenri in choicid.^
Boicaraleis^ i n-Albain .i. Aedan mac Gabrain. Dodechas*
liad^-side co hAedan, dodechas 6 Aed^n*' co Fiachnje aratised^
5 dia chobair. Boi i n-imnissiu fri Saxanu.^ Dobreth mil''
liathmar la suidiu du b^s^** Aeddin isin chath. Luid didiu
Fiachna^^i tairis. Fdcaib a rfgni^^ i fuss. Intan b^tir^^ int
sliiaig i n-Albe " i n-imnissiu, doluid ^^ fer deligthe ^^ for a
mndi ina diin^'' i Rdith Moir Maige Line. Ni boi sochuide
lo isin diin a n-doluid. Asbert frie^** airm iressa.^'' Asbert in
ben 20 ni boi isin bith di setaib no mdinib ara n-denad ^i ni
bed 22 rnebul d' inchaib a celi. Asbert side^^ frie 2* diis in
denad 2^ do chobair anma a celi. Asbert si m^ atceth 26 i
n-guais ni bad decming,2^ a chobair -^ di di 2^ neoch bad
15 chumacht.^'' Asbert side^^ dagne^2 didiu,^^ ' ar atd do chela
MSS.: £7=LU. p. 133a (fragment); //=H. 2. 16, pp. 911-12; /z=H. 3.
18, p. 555; i\^=23.N.(R.I.A.), pp. 63-64; ^^Eg. 88,fo. 15 b, i.
^ Moggai;; £. " i coicc/if E. ^ leseum k. ^ dodechadas /i.
^ uaidhe £. ^ co hAedan — 6 Aedan om. NEh. ^ ararised Nh.
^ Saxauna h Saxa^chw E. ^ sic ZTmiliu h mih'^ jV.iooo. E. •"' bais
H. " Lurgan add. E. ^^ sic Nh righan E. ^^ batair Nh. " sic
UHh Weth E. ^^ dolluid H luid h. i*^ araile fear h. ^^ inadaun
arumnai h. ^^ fria HhE. ^^ hiresa H airm hiressa aspect frie N.
20 bein N. "^ diwgna E. - bad N bud h. "^ sa H som NE.
^ fria HEh. ^^ diwgna E. -•' matcetha E. ^'^ buddecmaing N
budecmai;?g Hh budecmaic E. ^^ sic U cobair cet. '^'^ do HE. ^"^ co-
mar/^/a E caumar/ii" h. ^^ som E sa UH. ^^ dogne E done h dogen
H dagni UN. '^^ da.no h.
42
APPENDIX 43
i n-guais mdir.^ Tucad fer uathmar ar a chend^ nad forsa-
batar,3 ocus atbela leis. Di'a n-dernam* mM tu'' caratrad,
berae mac n-de."^ Bid amre in mac sin/ bid Mongan^ dano.*^
Rega-sa ^'^ dun chath firfidir ^^ imbarach ^^ im theirt, ara
n-iccub-sa, ocus fes-sa ^^ in milid ^* ar belaib fer n-Alban. Ocus 5
atber^^ frit' cheli-siu ar n-imthechta/'' ocus as tussu romfoidi^^
dia chobair.'
Dognith^^ samlaid.^'' Intan reras^" in oath diarailiu, co n-
accatar ni int sluaig, in fer sainigthe ar beolo catho-^ Aeddin
ocus Fiachnai. DoUuid dochum Fiachnai intsainredach, ocus lo
asbert friss accaldaim -- a mnd al-la riam, ocus donindgell dia
chobair isind liair sin. Luid larom resin cath dochum alaili,
ocus fich -^ in milid,-' ocus memuid in cath ria-" n-Aeddn ocus
Fiachna.
Ocus dointoi-" Fi'achna dia chrich, ocus bci torrach in ben 15
ocus bert mac .i. Mong^n mac Fiachnai. Ocus atlugestar^'' a
cele-^ a n-dogeni friss, ocus adddmir si a imthechta uli. Conid
mac do Mananndn-'^ mac Lir inti Mongdn, cesu Mongdn mac
Fiachnai dogarar^^ de. Ar^^ fordcaib-*^ rand lia mathair al-
lude uadi matin, a n-asbert : ^^ 20
' Tfag duni' daim,
dosfil^ in matin m-binglain :35
iss^ Monindan 3" mac Lir
ainm ind fir dorutArlid.'^^
^ mar U moir E. ^ chind HhNE. '^ fci;sabatar U f(j;3abalhar
E. ^ d^mse E. » matu HhE. « de C/". ^ om. UH. « Fiachna
UH Moggan EN. ^ didtu H donai h dna (.i. dana) N am/^ E.
^" raghasa E ragadsa h. ^^ firlithir H ftv-faithiV E. ^" amaircf/i
E imbuarach h. ^^ feasa HEN. ^^ .looo. E. ^^ isb^r E,
'** friadd E. ^^ aromfaoi E. -"^ dognithi H. i'-* samlaith N om
H. 20 renisi h. 21 chalha //. -- accaldam //. •-■' fich/^ E.
^ .1000. E. '■" re H. "^ dointai t/doinnto //doindto /; doinntoi N.
"^ alluigestair // altaigzwtar E. ^ cell U. "^ Maniwdan N. ^'^ do
gairtfr // atgairt6'r E. ^' uair h. ^- forfacaib IIE rofiiagaiph N ro
facaib h. ^■' anwjmp^rt E. *' sic h dufail U. •"• sic NhE banglain UII.
^ sic U Manannan HNEh. ^^ dularlid U dutarlaid corrected into
dutatarlaid // dotairle E dodJuthairUd N dorutarlit h.
5
44 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
The Conception of Mongan.
Fiachna Lurga, the father of Mongiln, was sole king of the
province.^ He had a friend in Scotland, to wit, Aeddn,^ the
son of Gabrdn. A message went from him to Aeddn. A
message went from Aedan to him that he would come to his
aid. He was in warfare against Saxons.^ A terrible warrior
was brought by them for the death of Aeddn in the battle.
Then Fiachna went across. He left his queen at home.
While the hosts were fighting in Scotland, a noble-looking
lo man went to his wife in his stronghold in Rathmore of Moy-
linny. At the time he went there were not many in the strong-
hold. He asked the woman to arrange a place of meeting.
The woman said there were not in the world possessions or
treasures, for which she would do anything to disgrace her hus-
15 band's honour. He asked her whether she would do it to save
her husband's life. She said that if she were to see him in
danger and difficulty,'* she would help him with all that lay in
her might.^ He said she should do it then,*^ ' for thy husband
is in great danger. A terrible man has been brought against
20 him on whom they cannot . . ., and he will die by his hand.
If we, I and thou, make love, thou wilt bear a son thereof
That son will be famous; he will be MongAn. I shall go to the
battle which will be fought to-morrow at the third hour, so that
I shall save him, and I shall vanquish '' the warrior before the
^ As such he is enumerated in the list of the kings of Ulster in LL.
p. 41 c. ^ King of the Scotch Dalriada (574-606).
^ As to Aedan's wars with the Saxons, see Reeves' Adainnan, p. 36,
and Bede, Hist. Eccl. i. 34.
* Lit. ' if he were to see in danger anything that were difficult.'
^ Lit. ' with anything she were able.'
^ I read dagne, 3rd sg. of the present subjunctive with infixed
pronoun.
^ fes, 1st sg. of the s-fut. oi Jlchim, Lat. vinco. Cf fessaiter .i.
fichfitn, LL. 188 b, 6.
APPENDIX 45
eyes of the men of Scotland. And I shall tell thy husband our
adventures, and that it is thou that hast sent me to his help.'
It was done thus. When army was drawn up against army,
the hosts saw something — a noble-looking man before the
army of Aeddn and Fiachna. He went towards Fiachna in 5
particular, and told him the conversation with his wife the day
before, and that he had promised to come to his help at that
hour. Thereupon he went before the army towards the other,
and vanquished the soldier. And the battle was routed before
Aeddn and Fiachna. 10
And Fiachna returned to his country. And the woman was
pregnant and bore a son, even Mongdn son of Fiachna. And
he thanked his wife for what she had done for him, and she
confessed all her adventures. So that this Mongdn is a son
of Mananndn mac Lir, though he is called Mongdn son of 15
Fiachna. For when he went from her in the morning he left
a quatrain with Mongdn's mother, saying :
' I go honie.i
The pale pure morning draws near : 2
Moninnan son of Ler 20
Is the name of him who came to thee.'
^ I take daim to stand for dohn, dat. sg. oidom. f. = Lat. doimis (gen.
na domo. Rev. C. xiv. p. 454, 1. 15). Or should we compare dia daim
.i. dia deoht, which occurs in Tochmarc Emire, Rev. C. xi. p. 444,
1. 38: hnd Cikfnilind dia daim ktiadaib, ' C. went of his (own) will 25
from them ' ?
^ As to the construction oi dqfil vi'iih. following ace, see Glossary.
II
Seel asa m-berar^ co m-bad hd Find mac Cumaill Mongdn,^
ecus ani dia fil aided Fothaid Airgdig a sceP so sis.
Boi Mongdn hi Rdith Moir Maige Lini ina rigu.' Dolluid 30
MSS. : U—IAJ. 133a; ^=Betham 145, p. 64; I/=U. 2. 16,
col. 912 ; £=Egcrlon 88, fo. 15 b, I.— No heading in E.
' asanabuir B adbcr H. - Moggaw Finn xaac Cumaild B. •* ecus
— sccl om. BH. 4 ri dou (!) .£ ri du ( !) B.
46 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
ForgoU fili a dochum. B6i leis for cui^ ilar Idnomnae n-do,^
Infeded infill seel cacha aidche do Mong^n. Basi^achomsose*
a m-both samlaid 6 samuin co beltaine. Sedit ocus bi'ad h6
Mongdn.
5 Imchomarchuir Mongdn a filid laa n-and ^ cia haided Fothaid
Airgdig. Asbert ForgoU goite i n-Dubthair Lagen. Asbert
Mongan ba go. Asbert in fili nodndirfed *' dia d.ithgiud/ ocus
no-serfad a athair ocus a mathair ocus a senathair, ocus do-
chechnad for a n-usciu conndgebtha fasc ina n*-inberaib. Do-
lo chechnad for a fedaib conndtibertais torad, for a maige comtis
ambriti chaidchi^ cacha clainde. Dofarcaid ^^ Mongdn a reir
do" di setaib cotici secht cumala, no di. secht cumala,^^n6 tri^^
secht cumala.^* Torgid^^ asennad^'' trian no leth a feraind, no
a ferand 6g, asennad ^'' acht a soiri a oinur cona mndi Breothi-
15 girnd, mani forsulcad^* co cend trisse. Atbobuid in fili uile
acht mad cussin mndi. Atddmuir^^ Mongdn fobith a enich.-"
Bd, bronach in ben imma rdsin.^^ Ni gattad^^ der dia^^ griiaid.
Asbert Mongdn frie^* arndbad^^ bronach, bes ^'^ dosnisad
cobair.
20 Tdnic de cotici a""" tres laa. Gabais in fili dia nadmim.-^
Asbert Mongd,n anad co fescor. Boi Mongdn ocus a ben ina
n29-griandn. Ciid in ben intan bd nessam a hidnacupo ocus
ndd ^^ accai ^^ a cobair.^^ Asbert Mongdn ' nadbad ^* bronach,
^ forcoi BE. ^ ndoa B. ^ si B. ^ sic B chomhsa HE chomsse U.
5 la nan d die ^id E. ^ nonoirfad B nonaerfad EH. "^ aithchiud B
aithgeud H aithcheo E. ^ ina UEB iwn H. ^ sic U om. cet.
10 sic BH dofarraid U difarcaip E. " ndo BH. ^^ of^^ bH.
^^ . iii. a ( = teora) H. ^^^ om. H coWcccd tri secht cumala E. ^^ torcidh
B torcaid Htairgid E. ^^ asennad 6''asendath B aseannad H. ^'^ asen-
nad U aseiidad B aseannad ^asenna E. ^^ sic UH {orsluiced B iorsloice
E. -"^ addomir B. ^^ enech U. -^ imwbiressan B immaresin E
iwme ressan U ime resan H. - gata B gadai E. "* di UH. ^■i fria
UH. 2^ arnab H arnaba B. -"^ abean B. '^'' om. B. -^ nadwaim H
nadmuimb B. -^ ina BH. '^^ sic E anidnacul UBH. ^^ nach B na
E. ^'- naccai B aicci H tan?V E. ^^ cobraid B. "^ nibo B nab H.
APPENDIX 47
a ben. Asje^ fer dothset indossa diar cobair,^ adhaim^ a
chossa hi Labrinni.'*
Anit etir. Cich ^ in ben aithirruch. * Nd, cii, a ben ! Asae *
fer dotha;t diar cobair indosso, adhaim'' a chossa hi Mdin.'^
No-antis^ etir^'^ in tucht sin etir each d£ trdth^^ isind lou.^- 5
No-chiad si, asberad sium^^ beus : ^* ' N£ ci/^ a ben, fer dothset
diar cobair indossa adhaim^^a chossa hi Lemuin, hi Loch Lein,
hi Samair^" etir Ui^^ Fidgente^" ocus Aradu,"*^ hi Siuir"i ar
Femun Muman," hi n-Echuir,^^ hi m-Berbi,-* hi Rurthig, hi m-
Boind, hi Nith, hi Tuartheisc,-° hi Sndm Aignech, hi Nid,2G hi lo
Rig, hi n-Olarbi ar belaib Rdtha Mori.'
Intan dunndnic adaig, boi Mongdn inna chetud inna rig-
thig,2^ ocus a ben for a deserud,-^ ossf^'* bronach. In fiH
GO a fuacru^** for a n-ghnne^^ ocus a nadmand, Trdth m-
bdtar and, adfogarar^' fer dun^^ raith andess. A brat hi for- 15
cepuP^ immi, ocus dicheltir^'' inna Liim ndd bii erbecc.'-"
DoHng^'' frissa^^ crand sin^^ tama teora rdtha co m-boi'**' for
lit liss, di sudiu co m-bdi for Idr ind rigthige,*i di sudiu co
m-boi etir Mongdn ocus fraigid frisind adart. In fiU i n-iarthur
in tige •*- fri rig ani'ar. Segair *^ in chest ** isin tig fiad "^^ ind 20
6claig dunddnic.*^ 'Cid dathar*'' sund?' ol sude.^^ 'Rogellsom,'
ol Mongdn, ' ocus in fili ucut im aidid Fothaid Airgthig. Asru-
^ ase JI asae B asse E. ^ diarcobair indosa HBE. ^ addaim B
adaim HE. ^ Laibrinniu B. ^ clich BH ciidh E. ^ asoe B asa E.
' adhaim B addaim H adaim E. ^ Maoin E. '^ antais UBH.
1" om. U. " eter each da trdth intuchtsin U. ^- sic B loo UI/.
" sic B %z.U sa;w H. ^^ u,%eos B. ^^ cii B. ^^ adhaim B addaim H
dotaot {sic) E. ^^ Sam/;air E. ^^ hi //ua E. '^^ bfiginti E f idgcntiu B.
20 Ara E. 21 Siur BE. ^ Fem^«mug/i E. "^ hincchtuir B om. E.
"^ hi Siuir— Berbi om. H. "'• Taurtesc //. ^6 ^j Tuartheisc— Nid om.
U. '•^ rigthaig UB. ^'* dcscrud U dciseruth B desrig H. -^ osi UH.
^ oc accrui 7 ocfuacra B. '^^ glindcu B. ^'-^ atfocart/^a;- B. '^ dind B.
"^ forcipul B fo;cibul //. 2' dichcltar H. »« herbec B crljcc H.
87 toling U. "* fnsiw B. ^o sidein B. ■»» hi B. ■" rigthaigc UB.
« taige UII. ■•'* scg//ar B. ''•1 c\ie\st B cost H. ^"^ fead U fiado B.
"8 dudanic d/donainaic B dundanic //. ''^ tathar BH. ■*" sudivi U.
48 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
bairt^ som is i n-Dubthor - Lagen. Asrubart-sa ba^ go.
Asbert int oclach hi go dond*filid. 'Bid aithlig.'^ol Forgoll,
'cille" dano'' dum ^ithgeod.'^ ' Ni baa son,' ol int oclach.
' Proimfithir. Bdmar-ni lat-su, la Find,' ol int oclach. ' Adautt !' ^
5 ol Mongdn, 'ni maith sin.' ' Bdmar-ni la Find tra,' ol se.
' Dulodmar i" di ^^ Albje. Immarnacmar ^^ fri Fothud ^^ n-Airg-
thech hi sund accut for Ollorbi.^* Fichimmir ^^ scandal i" n-and.
Fochart-so erchor fair co sech ^'^ trit, colluid ^^ hi talmain friss
anall ocus confacaib ^^ a iarnd ^o hi ^^ talam. I ssed a n-dfcheltir ^^
lo so roboi isin gai sin. Fugebthar in moelchloch dia rolaus-sa^^ a-*
roud sin,^^ ocus fogebthar a n-airiarnn isin talmain,-" ocus fogeb-
thar ulad^'' Fothaid Airgthig friss anair biuc.^s Atd comrar^^
chloche imbi and hi talmain.^*^ Ataat a di foiP^ argit ocus a di
bunne doat ^^ ocus a muintorc ^^ argit for a chomrair. Ocus atd
15 coirthe oc a ulaid.^* Ocus atd ogom ^ isin chind fil hi talmain ^^
din chorthi. Issed fil and : ' Eochaid Airgthech inso. Rambi^'^
Cdilte i n-imaeriuc fri Find.'
Ethe^^ lasin n-6claich. Aricht^^ samlaid ule.*" Ba he
Cdilte dalta Find dod^nic.^ Ba he Find dano*^ inti Mongdn,
20 acht n£d*^ leic a** forndisse.*''
1 asrubart B//. ^ Dubthar B Duphthair E dithrub [sic !] //.
3 sic B is [/cLS H. 4 dind B. ^ aithlig/z JI aitlighi E. ^ cilli B.
^ dana B da. U do E dl I/. ^ aithgeoid B aithcheod ZTaithcheo E.
® atat BHE. ■"* dolotamar B. ^^ do ^. '- imanarnacamar BH.
12 Fothud C/Fothad H. " OUairbi B. « fichimmar i^i^ficemar E.
^^ scandail B. ^'^ conseig BH. ^^ colluith B. ^^ confacah U.
20 hairiarn H hiarn B. 21 igin BH. 22 diceltar U dicheltair BH.
23 rolusa ^rulasa H. 2* a« H in B. 25 si U. 26 talam U. "" aulad UH
aulud B ula E. 28 ^./^ jf ^j^, u i^gg £ qj,^^ j5_ 29 comrair HE
comruir B. ^o t^Iam UE .i. a talmazVz ^. ^i f^il ^. sa joat ^.
33 muntorc HB, 34 aulaid ^. 35 ogum H ogamb B oghum E.
36 talam £/talu;« ^. 37 ^ombi jSZT robith ^. 38 ^f^g _;_ dognither £/■
ethoe H eithea B. 38 anicht B. ^^ ocus fofritha ar/tf. U (t-ead
.i. fofritha, a gloss on aricht). ^^ downanaic B dadainic H donanic E.
42 di H do B. *3 na B nand ^. « cm. BH. « Finit ««'«'. ^et rl.
aa'^. ^ ba he do«o inti yiongan .i. Find va.ac Cnmaill acht na legi a
fomdi [j?V] ^.
APPENDIX 49
A Story from which it is inferred that Mongan was
Find mac Cumaill, and the cause of the
death of Fothad Airgdech.^
Mongan was in Rathmore of Moylinny in his kingship. To
him went ForgoU the poet. Through him many a married 5
couple was complaining to Mongan.^ Ev^ery night the poet
would recite a story to IMongan. So great was his lore that
they were thus from Halloween to May-day. He had gifts and
food from Mongan.
One day Mongan asked his poet what was the death of lo
Fothad Airgdech. Forgoll said he was slain at Duffry in
Leinster.3 Mongdn said it was false. The poet said he would
satirise him with his lampoons, and he would satirise his father
and his mother and his grandfather, and he would sing (spells)
upon their waters, so that fish should not be caught in their 15
river-mouths. He would sing upon their woods, so that they
should not give fruit, upon their plains, so that they should be
barren forever of any produce. Mongdn promised him his will
of precious things as far as (the value of) seven bondmaids, or
twice seven bondmaids, or three times seven. At last he offers 20
him one-third, or one-half of his land, or his whole land ; at
last (anything) save only his own liberty with (that of) his wife
Breothigernd, unless he were redeemed before the end of three
days. The poet refused all except as regards the woman. For
the sake of his honour Mongan consented. Thereat the 25
^ Fothad Airgdech, also called Oende, was one of the three Fothads,
brothers, who reigned together over Ireland for one year (A.D. 2S4) :
see LL. 24 a, 29, 190 b, 10.
^ Forgoll seems to have been an overbearing and exacting fili of the
type of Athirnc and Dalli'in Foigaill.
" In the barony of Scarawalsli, co. Wexford. Forgoll'.s statement
perhaps rests on a confusion of this Leinstcr Dublhar with another
Dublhar in Dul Araide, mentioned in Silva Gadelica, i. p. i iS, 30.
D
so THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
woman was sorrowful. The tear was not taken from her
cheek. Mongdn told her not to be sorrowful, help would cer-
tainly come to them.
So it came to the third day. The poet began to enfoi'ce his
5 bond. Mongdn told him to wait till evening. He and his wife
were in their bower. The woman weeps as her surrender drew
near and she saw no help. Mongan said : ' Be not sorrowful,
woman. He who is even now coming to our help, I hear his feet
in the Labrinne.' ^
ID They wait awhile. Again the woman wept. 'Weep not,
woman ! He who is now coming to our help, I hear his feet in
the Mdin.'2
Thus they were waiting between every two watches of the
day. She would weep, he would still say : 'Weep not, woman,
15 He who is now coming to our help, I hear his feet in the
Laune, in Lough Leane,^ in the Morning-star River between
the Ui Fidgente and the Arada,* in the Suir on Moy-Fevin^ in
^ According to Ilennessy (Jubainville, Le Cycle Mythologiqtie, p. 339)
the river Caragh, which flows into Dingle Bay, co. Kerry. O'Donovan,
who gives a wrong nominative, Labhrann instead of Labrainne (F.M.,
A.M., 3751), supposed it to be the Cashen in the north of co. Kerry ;
but that would not suit. Cf. tomaidm Fleisce 7 Mane 7 Labrainne,
LL. 17 b, 45-
^ This must be the name of some small stream between the Caragh
and the Laune. It cannot be the Maine, the Irish name of which is
Maing, gen. Mainge. If Main stands for an older Moin, we have here
the Irish equivalent of the Gaulish Moinos, the German Main.
•* The great Lake of Killarney.
^ ' The Ui-Fidhgeinte and the Aradha were seated in the present
county of Limerick, and their territories were divided from each other
by the r'ver Maigue and the stream now called the Morning-star
River.' O'Don. F.M., a.d. 666, note. Samair has been corrupted
into Camair, now Camhaoir, which means 'daybreak.' Hence the
English name.
^ A plain in the present barony of Iffa and Offa East, south of
Slievcnaman, co. Tipperary.
APPENDIX 51
Munster,in the Echuir,iin the Barrow, in the Lififey,-in the Boyne,
in the Dee,^ in the Tuarthesc,* in Carhngford Lough, in the Nid,*
in the Newry river, in the Larne Water in front of Rathmore.'
When night came to them, Mongdn was on his couch in his
palace, and his wife at his right hand, and she sorrowful. The 5
poet was summoning them by their sureties and their bonds.
While they were there, a man is announced approaching the
rath from the south. His cloak was in a fold around him, and
in his hand a headless spear-shaft that was not very small. By
that shaft he leapt across the three ramparts, so that he was in 10
the middle of the garth, thence into the middle of the palace,
thence between Mongdn and the wall at his pillow. The poet
was in the back of the house behind the king. The question is
argued in the house before the warrior that had come. 'What
is the matter here?' said he. 'I and the poet yonder,' said IS
Mongdn, 'have made a wager about the death of Fothad
Airgdech. He said it was at Duffry in Leinster. I said that was
false.' The warrior said the poet was wrong. ' It will be . . .,'
said Forgoll, '...'*' ' That were not good,' said the warrior.
' It shall be proved. We were with thee, with Find,' said the 20
warrior. ' Hush !' said Mong^n, 'that is not fair.' 'We were
with Find, then,' said he. 'We came from Scotland. We met
with Fothad Airgthech here yonder on the Larne river. There
we fought a battle. I made a cast at him, so that it passed
^ Not identified. It should be in co. Kilkenny. One would expect
the Nore to have been mentioned, which Caiite had to cross. Perhaps
Echuir is an old name for the Nore.
- Ruirthcch, for ro-rethech, ' the strong running,' an old name for the
Liffey. Badly spelt Ruirech by O'Reilly.
* Nith, now the Dee in the bar. of Ardec, co. Louth. Cf. the
river-name Nilh in Dumfries.
* Not identified. Perhaps the Clyde or Fane in co. Louth.
'^ Not identified. Some river or stream in co. Down. Cf. Nid-uari,
the name of a Pictish tribe in Calloway (P>ede, FiV. Cui/tk c. xi.), and
the Greek river-name Ncda.
*■ I cannot translatethis passage.
52 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
through him and went into the earth beyond him and left its
iron head in the earth. This here is the shaft that was in that
spear. The bare stone from which I made that cast will be
found, and the iron head will be found in the earth, and the
5 tomb of Fothad Airgdech will be found a little to the east of it.
A stone chest is about him there in the earth. There, upon
the chest, are his two bracelets of silver, and his two arm-rings,
and his neck-torque of silver. And by his tomb there is a
stone pillar. And on the end of the pillar that is in the earth
lo there is Ogam. This is what it says: "This is Eochaid
Airgdech. Cailte slew me in an encounter against Find.'"
They went with the warrior. Everything was found thus.
It was Cailte, Find's foster-son, that had come to them.
Mongan, however, was Find, though he would not let it be told.
Ill
15 Seel Mongain inso.^
Dia m-boi dano^ Forgoll fill la Mongan^ fecht n-and, luid
Mongin ar* diin trath di loo fecht n-and. Foric*^ in n-ecsine
oc munud a*" aiciuchta.'' Asbert* Mongdn" :
' Is buan
20 hull hi fola luimne,
condarois ^o far techtu
inna drechtu imm druimne.'n
Arceiss^^ Mongan larom^^ dond eicsiniu boi hi fola^* nalumne.
Ba terc each n-adbar^^ do.^'' Asbert friss diis im-bad^'' diuit
MSS. : £/=LU. 134 a; i) = Betham 145, p. 66; H-H. 2. 16,
col. 913 ; /i = H. 3. 18, p. 555 b.
^ sic U Seel do scelaib Mongan so H. Do sce/aib Moggain and so
sis h. No title in B. - da«o U donu h dono B d'utiu If. ^ Maggan
A. ■* for ^ a add. H. ^ forric Bh. " 0111. B. "^ aicipta B. ^ asbeir
B asber Flh. '-' Mauggan h. ^^ rowdaroais H. ^^ diuiwmne B. ^^ sic
U airchis B aircheisi h arcesi H. ^" iarmu Maggan //. ^^ fulu h.
^^ adbur Bh. ^^ doa B ndu h. ^"^ iiuba B ambad h.
APPENDIX 53
ocus im-badi maith a thairus,^ conidtindgelP intamus* d6,
'Airg didiu,'^ ol Mongdn, 'conn's Sith Lethet Oidni, co tucce
liic fil dom-sa and ocus dober^e'' pun findairgit duit fadein, hi
fil di ungi deacJ Rotbia foitachf^ occo. It he do uide° de
sundeio do Chnucc B^ine. Forricfe fajlte and fom'bith-se hi 5
Sith Chnuicc. De sudiu do Dumu Granerit.ii De sudiu do
Sith Lethet Oidni. Doberee dam-sa in Hie, ocus teis-si^^ ^q
sruthair Lethet Oidni. Fogebai pun oir and, i m-biat noi
n-ungi. Damberce ^3 dam-sa let.'
Luid" in fer a fechtas. Dofornic Idnamni^^ sainredaig ar a lo
chiund hi Sith Chnuicc Bane. Fersait faihi moir fri techtaire
Mongain. Ba si a du. Luide.^'' Fordnic i'' alaili hi n-Dumu
Grdnerit. Boithi ^Mnd ^^ faelte chetna. Luid ^o do Sith Lethet
Oidni. Foranic-i dano lanamnai-^ n-aih hi^s sudiu. Fersait
fitlti moir fri muintir Mongdin. Ferthee a oigidecht coleir 15
amal-' na haidchi^s aiH. Bai airecol n-amrjE^o ^i toib thige-'
na Iclnamnce. Asbert Mongan frisseom aratimgarad a echuir.^s
Dognith samlaid. Dobreth do a echuir.-^ Atnoilc. Asbreth
friss arnataibreth ni^o assin tig^i acht a foite^- leiss. Dagni.^^
Dobert^* in n-eochair aitherruch dund^^ Idnamain. Dobert^''20
imraorro a h'ic leiss ^-^ ocus a phiin"^ airgit.^'-* Luid larom do
sruthair Lethet^** Oidni. Dobert^i a phun-^^ oir a sudiu.'^
^ imba B imbud k. ^ thairus u thin7/j- B thairis A. ^ sz'c B tingcll C/.
■* intamas B. ^ did/^u ZT. « dob/r B. '' deacc h dec H dx. B.
8 om.,U. " huide U des/^uidiu B. ^" suindca B. " gnfnerid U.
'3 teise B teisi Hh. ^^ dowkVa; J7damberi B dombeirc h. ^' luit/i
B. ^5 j-^v // lanamnai U lanamain Bh. i** bas( adii luide U haszw
adoluidi h aduluid/n B aduluidc H. '' forrainic B. ^^ boithe B
bailhi UHh. ^^ ovi. h. -" luihi B. -' foranec h forranic Bll.
2- lanaw/in//Ianamuin /•' lawamain/^. "-^ om. B. ^-J amil j9. '-^ each
n-aidchie h. -« n-amra II amra; UB amra h. "^ sic Bh tliaigc UII.
2» sic UH echair h eochair B. "'■> echair //// eochair B. ^» om. U.
" sic IIBh taig U. ^2 foiti BH faiti //. ^a dogni HBh. ^ dobreath
h. 30 sic II n dun i/don h. 3« dobreth h, '^ nd6 //. ^ sic B piin
cet. 3" asuidiu adil. h. •*» lethit ////. •"' sic BHIi dob«- U. *• sic
B in pun cet. ••* assudiu BH.
54 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Dolluid^ afrithisi^ dochum Mongdin.^ Dobreth* do Mongdn
a liic^ ocus a or. Berid-som" a airget, Bitar'^ he® sin a
imthechtai.^
1 tolluid B. 2 aridisi h. ^ j-ir j5 Mongan UH. ^ dobreth. dobreth
U. ^ lice HVig h. ^ dobmsium h. '' batar u. ^ iat h. ^ imtheir/^/ae.
Finit hxaen B imthec/^/'a. Finit. Hh.
A Story of Mongan,
Now once upon a time when ForgoU the poet was with
Mong^ln, the latter at a certain hour of the day went before his
lo stronghold, where he found a bardic scholar ^ learning his
lesson.2 Said Mongdn :
' All is lasting
In a cloak of sackcloth ; 3
In due course thou shalt attain
I c The end of thy studies. ' *
Mongc<n then took pity on the scholar, who was in the cloak of
sackcloth. He had little of any substance. In order to know
whether he would be a truthful and good messenger,*^ he said
to him, promising him . . . : 'Go now,' said Mongdn, ' until
^ i.e. one of Forgoll's pupils.
2 Aiciucht, from Lat. acceptiim. Perhaps this refers to the tract
called Uraicept na n-ecsine, which formed part of the first year's
studies of the aspiring poet. See Thurneysen, Mittelir. VersL, p. 115.
2 i.e. to a beginner it seems as if he would never reach the end of
his studies. The cloak of sackcloth was probably the professional garb
of the bardic student.
* Lit. ' thou wilt reach according to proper order the sections
{dr^ckiu) concerning dniimmiie.' The course of study was divided
into drSicht oix portions (see Thurneysen, I.e., p. 115). According to
one authority this course extended over 12 years, and in the last year
certain metres were taught, which were called dniimmne siiithe,
'height (lit. ridge) of wisdom.' (See Thurneysen, I.e., p. 119.)
'' lit, whether his journey would be truthful and good.
APPENDIX 55
thou reach the fairy knoll of Lethet Oidni,^ and bring a precious
stone which I have there, and for thyself take a pound of
white silver, in which are twelve ounces. Thou shalt have
help from them.'-^ This is thy journey^ from here, to Cnocc
Bane.* Thou wilt find welcome in the fairy knoll of Cnocc 5
Bane for my sake. Thence to Duma Granerit.^ Thence to
the fairy knoll of Lethet Oidni. Take the stone for me, and go
to the stream of Lethet Oidni, where thou wilt find a pound of
gold, in which are nine ounces. Take that with thee for me.'
The man went on his journey. In the fairy knoll of Cnocc 10
Bane he found a noble-looking" couple to meet him. They
gave great welcome to a messenger of jNIongdn's. It was his
due. He went further. He found another couple in Duma
Granerit, where he had the same welcome. He went to the
fairy knoll of Lethet Oidni, where again he found another couple. 1 5
They gave great welcome to a man of Mongan's. He was most
hospitably entertained, as on the other nights. There was a
marvellous chamber'' at the side of the couple's house. Mon-
gdn had told him that he should ask for its key. He did so.^
The key was brought to him. He opens it. He had been told 20
not to take anything out of the house except what he had been
sent for. He does so. The key he gave back to the couple ;
1 Not identified, so far as I know,
2 i.e. from the i)eople of the sid, the fairies.
^ Hi. these are thy journeys, the stages of thy journey.
* 'The name of a hill situated in the plain of Magh-Leamhna, other-
wise called Clossach, in Tyrone,' O'Don. F.M., A.D. in, note. Cf.
Cnocc Bane la Airgiallu, LL. 24 a, 8.
^ Not identified, so far as I know ; but see Trip. Life, p. 311.
^ sahiredach lit. sj)ecial, seems sometimes, like sain itself, to have
the meaning of ' specially fine, distinguished, excellent,' as in inna cdiue
sainrcdch<£ 'of singular beauty,' Ml. 37 b, 10. Or does it here mean
'a special couple,' i.e. separate, by themselves?
' airecol n. , borrowed from Lat. oracultt/it, has come to mean any
detached house of one chamber ; here it is a treasure-house.
•* Lit. it was done so.
56 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
his stone, however, and his pound of silver he took with him.
Thereupon he went to the stream of Lethet Oidni, out of which
he took his pound of gold. He went back to Mong^n, to whom
he gave his stone and his gold. He himself takes his silver.
These were his wanderings.
IV
Tucait Baile Mongain ^ inso.^
Eissistir^ ben Mongdin* i. Findtigernd do Mong^n ara n-
indissed di diuiti^ a imthechta. Gaid side di mithisse secht
m-bliadan. Dognith. Tanic de int dge hisin." Biiddlmar''
10 la firu Herend i n-Usniuch Midi^ bliadain eca Ciar^in '^ maic
int s^ir ocus gona Tuathail M^il Gairb ocus gab^la rigi du ^'^
Diarmait. Bfitir" int sliiaig^^ for Usniuch.^^ Dosfiiabart^''
cassar^* mor and. Ba sin^** a met, di primglais^'' deac
fordccaib ^^ ind oenfross ^^ i n-Ere ^'^ co brd,th. Atrecht Mon-
15 gin morfessiur din charnd for leith,-i ocus a rigan ocus a
senchaid Cairthide-^ mac Marcd,in, co n-accatar^'^ ni, in
less m-bilech m-broinech sainemail. Tiagait do, conlotar
isin less. Tiagait isin n-airecol n-amrae^* and. Tonnach^^
credumi forsin ^'^ taig. Gren.-in ^~ hoimind for a senestrechaib.-^
20 Marfessiur deligthe and. Targud amra isin taig di ^^ cholc-
thechaib ^^ ocus brothrachaib ocus di setaib ingantaib. Secht
taulchubi de fin and. Fertha f^elte fri Mongdn^^ isin taig.
MSS : 17. — LU. p. 134 b, H—H. 2. 16, col. 914, Z? = Betham 145, p. 67.
^ Mongan [/. ^ Baili Mongan H. ^ .i. iarfaigis (7. ■* Mongan U.
^ diuit t^diuidi^. " aigi sin //" aighe hisein i?. '' mor Zf. ^ Usnech
Mide B. ^ Ciaran U oais add. HB. ^» do ^^. " sic B batar UH.
12 in sluaig ZT. ^^ Uisnech //j5. " «V j5 tusfiiabart f/ dosfuabairt Z^.
1^ casair B. ^® si HB. ^"^ primglaise B. ^^ forfacaib HB. ^^ aen-
froiss B. 20 Eiriu B. 21 sic B leth UH. 22 hsenchaid Cartide B.
23 cowdfacatar B. -^ nambrai nant B. -^ tondach B sonach H. ^s isin
B. -'' grean /^grean B. "^ senestrecha t^senistrechnib B. ^9 do?^
30 coilcthib H. ^^ Moggan B.
APPENDIX 57
Anais and. Gabais^ mesce. Is and didiu cachain Mongan^
andsin ^ in m-Baili don mnai, fobith donningell infessed ni di
dia imthechtaib. Indar leo ni bo erchian bdtar * isin taig.^ Ni
bo aidbliu^ leo^ bith oenadaig.^ Batir '^ and immorro blia-
dain Idin. A n-difochtrassatar^" co n-accatar^^ ba hi Raith 5
Mor Maige Line irrabatar.
1 gapaidh B. ^ Mogga« B. ^ oni B. ^ batir B. = and H.
^ haidblium B. ' leu B. ^ H omits this sentence aoenadaig B.
^ sic B batar U. •'" difochtrastair H. difiuchtrasatK/- B. ^^ ni add.
B. 10
These are the events that brought about the telling
of ' Mongan's Frenzy.' ^
Findtigcrnd,- Mongcin's wife, besought Mongdn to tell her
the simple truth of his adventures. He asked of her a respite of
seven years. It was granted. Then that period arrived. The 15
men of Ireland had a great gathering at Usnech in Meath, the
year of the death of Ciaran the son of the Carpenter, and of the
slaying of Tiiathal Maelgarb,^ and of the taking of the kingship
by Diarmait.' The hosts were on (the hill of) Usnech. A
great hail-storm came upon them there. Such was its great- 20
ness that the one shower left twelve chief streams in Ireland
for ever. Mongan with seven men arose and went from the
cairn aside, and his queen and his shanachie Cairthide, son
of Marcdn. Then they saw something, a prominent stronghold
^ lit. The occasion of Mongan's ' Frenzy ' this here. Baile Mon-
gdin or Mongan's ' Frenzy ' or ' Vision ' was the tille of a tale which is
now lost ; though one MS. {H) gives this title to the present tale. As to
other tales called Baile, see O'Curry, MS. Materials, p. 3S5.
- i.e. ' Fair Lady.' In the lale printed above, p. 46, 14, she is called
Bre6tigernd ' I<'lame-Lady.'
^ According to the Four Masters these two events happened a.d.
538.
■• Diarmait, the son of Cerball or Ccrrbcl, became king of Ireland
A.D. 539 ( I''. M)-
58 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
with a frontage of ancient trees. They go to it. They went
into the enclosure. They go into a marvellous house there.
A covering of bronze was on the house, a pleasant bower
over its windows. Seven conspicuous men were there. With-
5 in the house there was a marvellous spread of quilts and
covers, and of wonderful jewels. Seven vats of wine there
were. Mongan was made welcome in the house. He stayed
there. He became intoxicated. It was then and there
that Mongcin sang the 'Frenzy' to his wife, since he had
ID promised he would tell her something of his adventures. It
seemed to them it was not very long they were in that house.
They deemed it to be no more but one night. However, they
were there a full year. When they awoke, they saw it was
Rathmore^ of Moy-Linny in which they were.
15 ^ Mongan's own palace in co. Antrim.
V
[Compert Mongain ocus Sere Duibe-Lacha do
Mongan.]
Cf. D'Arbois de Jubainville, Catalogue, p. 206. MS. Book of
Fermoy, p. 131 a.
20 I. Feacht n-cen da n-deachaid Fiachna Find mac Basddin
mheic Murcertaigh mheic Muredhaigh mheic Eogain mheic
Neill a Heirind amach, co rdinic a Lochlandaibh. Ocus is e
ba righ Lochlann an tan sin .i. Eolgharg Mor mac Maghair 7
dofiiair miadh 7 gradh 7 anoir mhor and. Ocus ni cfan do bi
25 ann an trdth do gabh galar righ Lochlann 7 do fiarfaigh da
leagaibh 7 da fisicibh ca do foirfeadhi €. Ocus adubhradur ris
nach roibh ar bith ni do foirfedh e ach[t] bo cliiaisderg glegeal
7 a berbhadh do. Ocus do siredh - an cinedh ^ Lochia/? /; don
bhoin 7 do frith enbd Chaillighi Duibhe 7 do tairgeadh bo
30 aile di da cind 7 d'eitigh an chailleach. Ocus tucadh a cethair
1 f/ioirfea:^h. ^ si regh. ^ cinegh.
APPENDIX 59
di .i. bd gacha coisi 7 nir'ghabh an chailleach cor aile ach[t]
coraigheacht Fhiachna. Ocus is 1 sin uair 7 aimsir tancadur
teachta ar cend Fiachna Find mheic Bseddin 7 tdinic leisna
teachtaibh sin 7 ro ghabh righi n-Uladhi 7 do bl bliadhain
'na righ. 5
2. Laithe n-a:n a cinn bliadhna do chualaidh eighmhe a
n-dorus an dunaidh ^ 7 adubert a fhis cia do denadh an eigheam
(7 cipe)^ do denadh, a legon asteach. Ocus (is 1) ^ ro biann an
chailleach hochlannac/i do iaraidh * coraigheachta. Do aithin
Fiachna hi 7 ferais fdilti fria 7 fiarfaigh/j' scela di. ' Atdt scela 10
agum, ar an chailleach. Righ Lochlann ... do choraigeachta-
sa 7 feall arna ceithribh buaibh do gellad damh-sa (tar) eis mo
bo.' ' Dober-sa ceithre bd, (p. 131'') arason duit, a chailleach,'
ar Fiachna. Ocus adubert an chailleach na gebhadh. ' Dober-
sa fiche ^ bo arason,' ar Fiachna. ' Ni gebh,' ar an chailleach. 15
' Dobcr-sa ceithre /ic/nV bo,' ar Fiachna, ' fichi '^ bo arson gacha
bo dar . . . ar righ Lochlann. ' Is briathar dhamh-sa,' ar an
chailleach, ' (dia) tuctha a fuil do bhuaibh a coig/^T Uladh . . .
nach gebhaind co tista fein do den(am catha) ar righ Lochlann,
amail tdnac-sa anair . . . sa tarsa an-aister leam-sa mairs(in). 20
3. . . . Fiachna maithi Uladh 7 a fuair do maith(ibh) . . .
coroibhe da'c/i catha comora 7 rdi(nic) ... 7 do fogradh cath
liadha for Lochlannchaibh 7 (ro ba)dar tri Idithi ac timsugudh
'cum an chatha . . . regh comhrac 6 righ Lochlann ar feraib
Eirenn 7 do thuit tri chdt Idech 6 Fhiachna 'sa comrac 7 25
doleigid . . . cdirigh neimhe a phuball righ Lochlann chuca
7 do thuit fo . . . na tri chet Idech an Id sin leisna cdiribh 7 do
thuit tri chet Idech an dara Id 7 tri chet Idech an tres Id. Fa
doiligh le Fiachna sin 7 adubert : ' As triiagh an turus tanca-
mair-ne do marbad ar muindtire dona cdiribh. Uair dam(ad) 30
a cath n6 a comlann do thuitfidis le sl6g Lochlann, ni budh
aithmhela linn a tuitim, uair do digheoldais fein lad.
^ Ulagh. 2 dunaigh. ' Such' parentheses contain conjectural
readings, the MS. being blurred and illegible. •• iaraigh. "* fithc.
« fithi.
6o THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Tabhraidh/ ol se, mh'arm 7 mh 'eirred dam-sa co n-dechar fdin
isin comrac risna cairibh.' ' Na habair sin, a righ, ol siat, liair
ni cViOaidh frit dul do comrac riu.' ' Is briathar dam-sa, ar
Fiachna, na tuitfe d'feraibh Erenn leo nf as mo, co n-dechar-sa
5 fein 'sa comhrac risna cdiribh 7 mas ann do cinded damh-sa
bas d' faghbhail, do gebh, liair ni fetar dul seoch an cindeamh-
ain, 7 munab ann, tuitfid na cdirig learn.'
4. Mar do bhadar isin imagallaim sin, do chonncadar
senoglach mor mileta da n-innsaighe. Brat uaine aendatha
10 uime 7 casAn gelairgit isin brutt 6s a bhruinde 7 leine do
sroll re geilchnes do. Fleasc oir a timchill a fuilt 7 da asa
oir fona trdighthib. Ocus adwbert ant dglach : ' Ca liiach
dobert[h]a donti do dingebad na cdirigh ditr' 'Is briathar
damh-sa ... da roibh agum, co tmbrm'^in.' ' Biaidh,^ ar ant
15 dclach, 7 indeosat-sa duit hi.' ' Abair an breath,' ar Viachna.
'Adt'r,' ol se ; 'an fainde oir sin fot' mer-sa do thabairt do
chomartha damh-sa co Heirinn 'cum do bhancheile, co
cumaiscther ria.' ' Is briathar dam-sa, ol Fiachna, nach
leicfind ffinfer d' feraibh Eirenn do thuitim araba na comha ^
20 sin.' ' Nocha meisde duit-si hi, oir geinfidh gein buadha
uaim-si ann 7 is iiait-si ammneocha/d/i .i. Mongdn Find mac
Fiachna Finn. Ocus rachad-sa ad' richt-sa ann indus na ba
heisindracaide do ben-sa. Ocus misi Mananndn mac Lir 7
gebha-sa righe Lochlann 7 Saxan 7 Bretan.' Is and sin dorat
25 ant oglach brodchu as a choim 7 slabhra fuirre ... 7 as
briathar damh-sa nach bera a^nchteira dibh a cend leo uaithi co
dunadh * righ Lochlann, 7 muirfidh ^ si tri chet do sliiaghaibh
Lochia;;;? 7 g^bha-sa a m-biaidh "^ de.' Tainic ant oglach a
n-Eirinn cor'comhraic fri mnai Fiachna a richt Fiachna fein,
30 cor'toirrchedh hi an adhaigh sin. Atrochadar na cdirigh
laisin coin an Id sin 7 tri chet do mhaithibh Lochia;;;? 7 do
gabh Fiachna righi Loc/i/ann 7 Saxan 7 Bretan.
5. Ddla na Caillighi Duibhe imoro, dorad Fiachna a
1 tabhraigh. ^ biaigh. ^ comha. ^ dunagh.
^ muirfigh. '' biaigh.
APPENDIX 6i
duthaig di .i. seaclit caislena cona cn'ch 7 cona ferann 7 cdt
da gach crudh 7 tdinig a n-Eirinn far sin 7 fuair a bhean
ta^bhtrom torrach 7 rug mac an tan tainic a hinbhaidh.^ Ocus
do bi gilla ac Fiachna Find .i. an Damli a ainm 7 rue a bliean
mac an adhaigh sin 7 do baisdedh - lat fara^n 7 tucadh Mongdn 5
ar mac Fiachna 7 tucadh Mac an Daimh ar mac an ghilla.
Ocus do bi oclach eile a comflaitheamhnus re Fiachna Finn .1.
Fiachna Dubh mac Demdin 7 do laig sim co mor ar a flaithius
7 rucadh inghen do-san an adhaigh cdtna 7 tucadh Dubh-Lacha
Laimhgheal d' ainm fuirre 7 do cuiridh ar seilbh a chdile 10
Mongan 7 Dubh-Lacha. A cind tri n-oidhche Mongdin tainig
Mananndn ar a cheann 7 rug leis dd. oileamhain e a Tir
Tairngaire 7 tuc a chubhais nach leicfidh a n-Erinn aris co
cend a dha bliadhai? deg.
6. DAla imoro Fiachna Duibh meic Demain, fuair a baeghal 15
ar Fiachna Find mac Bhosdain 7 fuair a n-uaihad sliiaigh 7
tsochraide he 7 dochuaidh fona dunad 7 do loisc 7 do mhiiir
an dunadh 7 do mharbh Fiachna fein 7 do ghabh righi n-Uladh
ar dcin don ulagh sin. Ocus dob' dil le hUlltachrt/M uile
Mongan do thabairt chuca a cind a se m-bliadan 7 ni thuc 20
Manann.in d' ul(ltachaibh) c co cend a se' m-bliadhan deg. Ocus
tainic a n-Ulltachaibh iar sin 7 doronsat maithi Uladh sidh ^
eturra 7 Fiachna Dubh .i. leth Uladh do Mongdn 7 Dubh-
Lacha do mhndi 7 do bhancheile a n-eiric a athar 7 do bi
mairsin. 25
7. A thaiglaithe (?) n-a;n dia roibhe Mongdn (p. 133a) ... a
bhanchele 7 iat ag imeirt fi[dh]chille, co facadar cleirchin ciar
cirdubh isin ur(s) aind 7 is ed adubert : ' Nf thocht budh cubh-
aidh' (l)e righ Uladh an tocht so fil fort, a Mongdin, gan dul
do dighailt t'athar ar Fiachna Dubh mac Demdin, ach[t] cidh 30
olc le Duibh-Lacha a rddha frit, uair atd se a n-uatha^f sliiaigh
7 sochraidc 7 tarr lem-sa ann 7 loiscim an diinadh" 7 marbham
Fiachna.' ' Ni fcs ca sen ar an dubhartus sin, a clciichin,' ol
Mong;in, ' 7 rachmait leal.' Ocus dogni'ther anihlaidh, liair ro
^ hinmhaigii. - baibdcgli. - biyli. ^ cul)li;iigli. '' duiiatjli.
62 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
marbadh Fiachna Dubh leo. Ro gabh Mongan rfghi n-Uladh
7 is e deirchin do bi a[g] denum an braith .i. Manannan mor-
chumachtach.
8. Ocus do timsaighedh maithi Uladh co Mongdn 7 adubert^
5 riu : ' Dob ail lem dul ^ d'iarraidh ^ faigh[dh]e ar chuigeadh-
achaibh Erenn, co fdgh[bh]aind or 7 airgit 7 innmhus do
thidhlocadh.' ' As maith an comhairle sin,' ol siat. Ocus
tclinic roimhe ar coigidhaibh Eirenn, co rainig a Laighnibh
7 is d fa righ Laighen an tan sin.i. Brandubh mac Echach*
10 7 ro fer firchain failti re righ Uladh 7 do feisidar an adhaigh
sin isin mbaile 7 mur (do) eirigh arnamhairech Mongdn ad-
choHnairc na (c)jBca[i]t bo find oderg 7 laegh^ finn fri cois gach
(b)6 dibh 7 mar as taisce adchonnairc, grddhaighei- fat 7 tuc
righ Laighen aithne fair 7 asbert fris : ' Do gradhaigh^j- na bc^i,
15 a righ,' ol se. 'Is briathar damh-sa, nach faca riamh ach[t]
righi (n)-UIadh ni budh ferr lem agum fein an^it.' ' Is briathar
damh-sa,' ar righ Laighen, ' co rob cubhaidh" re (p. 133b).
Duibh-Lacha fat, uair as f jenben as aille a n-Erinn (7 as) hf ac
siut sealbh chruidh as dille a n-Eirinn 7 nf fuil ar bith comha
20 ar a tibhrinn-si fat ach[t] ar chairdeas gan era do denamh
diiind.'
9. Doronsat amlaidh 7 do snaidm cich ar a ch^li dfbh 7 do
chiiaidh Mongan dia t[h]igh 7 rue leis a trf chaecait bo find 7
do fiaifuigh Dubh-Lacha : ' Ce hf ant selbh cruidh as iil(le do)-
25 connairc rfamh 7 antf tuc sud,' ol si, ' bera . . . ferr, oir ni tuc
duine siut acht ar cend chomaine . . .' Ocus do indis Mongcin
df amail fuair na bd, 7 (nf chi)an do bh^dar ann an tan do
chonncadar na sloigh, cum an bhaile 7 is 6 ro bf ann.i. rfgh
Laighen. ' Cred (tan)gais d'farraidh?' ol Mongan, 'oir as
30 brfathar dam-sa, da roibh a coigidh Uladh anf atd.i d'iaraidh,'^
CO fuighir e.' ' Atd, imoro,' ar rfgh Laighen. ' D'iaraidh ^
Duibhe-Lacha thanac'
10. Do mhoidh '■' tocht ar Mhongdn. Ocus adubert : ' Nf
^ a.dnheri. ^ dtil. ^ iarraigh. ■* 'Eih.ac/i. ° lcv;dh. •' cubhaigh.
' iaraigh. ** iaraigh. ^ mhoigh.
APPENDIX 63
chiialus-sa neach romam do thabairt a mhna amach.' ' Cin co
cualais,' ar Dubh-Lacha, 'tabhair, oir is buaine bladh 'nd,
saeghal. ' Gabha/^ ferg Mongdn 7 deonaigh/j- do righ Laighen
a breith leis. Gairmis Dubh-Lacha ri'gh Laighen le ar fot
foleith 7 adubert ris : ' An fuil agat-sa, a righ Laighen, co tuit- S
fedh f/V 7 leth Uladh trun-sa acht muna bheind fein ar tabhairt
gradha doit-si ? Ocus is briathar damh-sa nd rach let-sa co
tuca tii breth mo beoil fein damh.' ' Cred 1 an breath ? ' ar
righ Laighen. ' Do brfathar rena comhall,' ol si. Tuc righ
Laighen a bhriathar a n-6cma/s a facbhala co tibradh ^ di. 10
* Mased,^ ar Dubh-Lacha, ' as ail ^ leam-sa gan a m-breith co
cenn m-bhadhna aenadhaigh ^ a n-e'ntigh 7 da tisair-si ar cuairt
(p. 134a) \ve a n-enteach rium-sa gan teacht a n-tenchathdir
rum ach[t] suidhe* a cathair am' aghaidh, liair eagail lem-sa an
gr^dh romhdr doradus-sa duid-si, co tibartha-sa miscais damh- 15
sa 7 nach fa hdil lem' fer fein aris mhe, liair da rabham ac
suirghe risin m-bhadhain so anall ni rach(ar n-)gradh ar cula.'
11. Ocus tuc righ Laighen di an choma sin 7 rug dia thig hi
7 ro bai treimsi ann 7 Mongan a sirg sirghalair risin treimsi sin
7 an adhaigh ^ tuc Mongan Dubh-Lacha tuc Mac an Daimh 20
(a com) alta 7 fa ben fritheohnha thairisi di hi . . . bh a Laignibh
le Duibh-Lacha hi-Co tainic Mac an (Daimh) laithe isin tech a
roibe Mongan 7 adbert : '01c atdthar ann sin, a Mhongain,' ol
se, ' ocus olc do thurus a Ti'r Thairrngaire co teach Manannain,
6 nach dernais d'foghlaim ann ach[t] bi'adh do chaithz'w 7 25
obhloirecht 7 as dona damh-sa mo bhen do breith a Laignibh,
6 nach dernais cairdis gan era re gilla righ Laighen amhail
dorighnis-[s]e re righ Laighen 7 nach tiialaing tii do bhen do
lenmhain.' ' Ni mesa le neach sin 'na leam-sa fein,' ar Mongan.
12. Ocus adbert Mongan fri Mac an Daim : ' Eirigh, ol se, 30
' coruige an uaimh dorais ar fiigamur an ch'abh giialaigh 7 fot a
Hcirinn 7 fck a hAlbain ann, co n-dechar-sa let ar do mhuin,
liair fiarfochaidh '' ri'gh Laighen da draidhibh "" mo sccla-sa 7
aderaid sium mo beith 7 cos ^ a n-Eirind damh 7 cos'-* a
^ tibliragh. - aill. '■' xnagat'd. * suighc. " aghaidh. '' fiarfochaigli.
■^ drais'hibh. " cus. '' cos.
64 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
n-Albain 7 adera san cin rabar-sa mair sin, ni bu egail lais
fein mhe.'
13. Ocus do ghkiaisidar rompa amlaidh sin (p. 134b) 7 is 1
sin uair 7 aimsir ro comorad asn(ach) Mhuige Life a Laignib 7
5 rancadar co Mach(aire) Chille Camain a Laighnibh 7 atchonn-
cadar nad . . . agha sh'iag-h 7 sochraide 7 righ Laighen secha
isin asnach 7 do aithnigheadar e, ' Triiagh sin, a Mhic an
Daimh, ol Mongan, ' as olc an turus tdngamar.' Ocus adconn-
cadar an na^mhcleirech seocha .i. Tibraide sagart Cille Camdin
10 7 a chethair soisgela ana laim fein 7 sceota na naidhbheagh
ar muin cleirigh re chois 7 iat a[g] denamh a trd.th 7 ro gab
ingantus Mac an Daimh cret adubert an clerech 7 do bi ag a
fiarfaighi do Mongcin ' Cred adubert ?' Adubert Mongan corub
leighind 7 do fiarfaigh do Mac an Daimh ar thuic fein a bee
15 liatha. ' Ni thuicim, ar Mac an Daimh, ach[t] ad^zV an fer atd
ana dhiaidh ^ 'amen, amen.'
14. Dealbhas Mongdn iar sin abhann mhor tre lar an magha
ar cinn Tibraide 7 droichid mor tairsi. Ocus fa hingnad le
Tibraide sin 7 ro gabh ag a choisregadh. ' Is ann so rugad
20 mh'athair-si 7 mo senathair 7 ni faca riamh abhann ann 7 6
tharla an abhann ann, as greama mur tharrla in droichid tairsi.
Do innsaighidar an droichid 7 mar rd^ngadar co medon an
droichit, tuitis an droichit fuit[h]ib 7 gabhazj Mongdn an soi-
scela a laim Tibraide 7 leigis liadha le sruth fad 7 fiarfaighz'j- do
25 Mhac an Daimh an m-baidhfedh - iat. ' Baidhter ^ on,' ar Mac
an Daimh. 'Ni dingnum itir,' ol Mongd,n, 'ocus leicfemaid
fadh mile le sruth iat co tair diiind ar toisc do denamh isin
dunadh.'
15. Delbha/j Mongdn e fein a richt (p. 135a) Tibraide 7
30 cuiris Mac an Daimh a richt an cleirigh 7 coroin mhor ana
chinn 7 sceota nanaidhbeadh ar a muin 7 tegaid rompo a n-
agaid righ Laighen 7 {evazs failti re Tibraide 7 tic poc do 7 ' is
fada 6 nach faca tu, a Tibraide,' ar an righ, ' ocus dena soiscel
^ dhiaigh. - baighfedh. ^ balght^r.
APPENDIX 65
diiind 7 innsaigh romhaind coruig an dunadh. Ocus eirgidh
Ceibhin Cochlach gilla mo charbaid-si let 7 atd an righan ben
righ Uladh and 7 dob' ail le a fdisidin do dhenamh duit.' Ocus
an oiread ro bi Mongdn ag radha a soiscela, aderedh Mac an
Daimh ' amen, amen.' Adubiadar ^ na sluaigh ni facadar 5
riamh cairneach ac nach biadh [acht] enfocal ach[t] an cleirech
lit, uair nocha n-abair do leighind ach[t] amen.
16. Ocus t;iinig Mongan roimhe co dorus an dunaidh ^ aroibhe
Dubh-Lacha 7 aithnigz^ Dubh-Lacha he. Ocus adubert Mac
an Daimh : ' Fagaidh uili an tech, co n-dema an righan a 10
faisidin.' Ocus an ben breathiT: no dhalta do fobradh tre dh^-
nacht anadh^ ann. Do ladhadh* Mac an Daimh a Mmha
tairsi 7 docuiredh amach hi 7 aderedh nach biadh ^ a farradh
na righna ach[t] an bean tdinic le fein. Ocus dunat's an gria-
n^ ana n-diaidh ° 7 cu'm's an comhl,^ gloinidhe'' ris 7 osgla[i]s 15
a fuindeog glaine (p. 135b) 7 tochhaz's a ben fein isin leabaidh *
leis. Ni tusca nd rue Mongan Duibh-Lacha leis 7 suidh/j
Mongdn ar a gualaind 7 toirbir/j- teora poc di 7 beris lais annsa
leabaidh ^ hi 7 dcni toil a menman 7 a aigeanta ria. Ocus an
trath tairnic sin do denam, do labair cailleach coimeta na set 20
ro bi isin chuil, oir ni thucadar da n-uidh i" hi conuige sin. Ocus
do leigistar Mongdn luathandl drdidheachta fuithi, co narbo
Idir di ni dha facaigh si roimhe. 'Triiagh sin,' ar an chailleach
'ni ben neam dim, a naemcleirigh, oir is ecoir an smiiaineadh^^
dorind/i/.$- 7 gabh aithrighe uaim, oir taidhbhsi breige tadhbas 25
damh 7 rogrddh mo dhalta agum.' ' Druit chugam, a chail-
leac/i,'' ar Mongdn, 'ocus dena t'fuisidin damh.' Eirgis an
chailleach 7 delba/j MongAn bir chuaille isin cathair 7 tuitis an
chailleach uman cuaille co fuair bus. ' Bennacht fort, a Mhon-
gdin,' ar an righan, 'as maith tarda diiind an chaWleac/i do 30
marbudh, oir do inneosad beith mur do bh.-lmair.'
17. (p. 136a) Ocus do chualadar iar sin an dorus ag a bhiia-
ladh 7 is e ro bi ann Tibraide 7 tri nonbhair mara;n ris. *Ni
' aduljradair. - dunaigh. ' anagh. ^ iadhagh. •'"' bi.igh. " diaigh.
' gloinighe. '' Icabaigh. '•' Icabaigh. ^'^ uigli. " simiaineagh.
E
66 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
facamair riamh ' ar na doirrseoraiclhe/ ' bliadhain budli lia
Tibraide 'nan bliadhain so. Tibraide astigh agaibh 7 Tibraide
amuigh.'^ ' Is fir sin,' ar sd Mongdn,^ ' Mongdn tdinic am'
richt-sa 7 eirgid amach,' ar s6, 'ocus dobeirim-si loghadh''
c dclibh 7 marbtar na cleirigh lit, liair ass grddha Mongdin [iat] arna
cur a richtaibh cleirech.' Ocus do eirgidar an teglach amach
7 do marbhadar na cleirigh 7 do thoitidar da nonbhar leo dibh
7 tarrla rig Laighen doibh 7 do fiarfaigh dibh cred an sedl ara
rabhadar. ' Mongdn,' ar si'at, ' ar toidhecht a richt Tibraide
10 7 at;l Tibraide isin bhaile.' Do leic righ Laighen fuithibh 7
tarthaigh Tibraide tempall Cille Camain 7 ni deachaid duine
don nonbhar aile gan gortugud.
18. Ocus tdinic righ Laighen dia thigh 7 do im[th]igh Mon-
g^in (p. 136b) iar sin 7 do fiarfaig righ Laighen : ' Cait a fuil
15 Tibraide?' ar se. 'Ni he Tibraide do bi ann,' ar an inghean,
'ach[t] Mong^n, oir do chloisfea-sa e.' 'An robhai-si ag Mongdn,
a inghen ?' ar sd. ' Do bhadhus, ar (si, uair as ferr cert oram.'
' Curt[h]ar fis liaind ar cend Tibraide ! ' ar righ Laighen, ' oir
mur aith tarrla diiinn a mhuindtzr do marbadh.' Ocus tucadh
20 Tibraide cuca 7 do im[th]igh Mongdn dia thigh 7 do bi co cend
rdithe gan teacht aris 7 do bi a sirg galair risin rd sin.
19. Ocus tdinic Mac an Daimh cugi 7 adubert ris : 'As fada
damh-sa, ar sd, mo ben do beth am' ecmais trd obhloir mar
thusa, 6 nach dernus cairdis gan era re hoclach righ Laighen.'
25 'Eirigh-si damh-sa, ol Mongdn, d' fis scdl co Rdith Deiscirt
m-Bregh mar a fuil Dubh-Lacha Ldimghel, oir ni insiubhaiP
mhisi.' As a haithle sin adubairt Dubh-Lacha: 'Ticedh
Mongdn cucam, ar si, 7 atd righ Laighen ar saerchiiairt Laighen
7 atd Ceibhin Cochlach gilla carbaid (p. 137a) an righ am'
30 farradh-sa 7 bith ag a rddha rium dlodh do denam 7 co
ticfadh" ^din leam 7 is dcriiaidh a n-ddnann Mongdn,' ar si.
Ocus dochuaidh^ mac an Doimh do gresadh Mongdin.
20. Iar sin do gliiais Mongdn roime co Rdith Deiscirt
1 doirrseoraighe. - amuith. ^ Tibraide. '' lodhagh,
^ sinsiubhail. "^ ticfagh. '' dochuaigh.
APPENDIX 67
m-Bregh 7 do suidh ^ ar gualaind na hingine 7 tucadh fi[dh]chill
ordhaidhe^ cuca 7 do bhdtar ag a himirt 7 do k'ig Dubh-
Lacha a ciche re Mongdn 7 mar do dercasta/r Mongan forra,
atcon[n]airc na ciche mora 7 lat maethgel 7 an medhon seng
solusgheal 7 tdinic ailges na hinghine do 7 do airigh Dubh- 5
Lacha sin. Is ann sin do gairist(2;z> righ Laighen cona
sluagaibh fon dunadh^ 7 do hoslaiged an dunad roimhe 7 do
fiarfaig righ Laighen don ingin, an e Mongtin ro bi astigh. Do
rdidh* si corbe. * Dob dil^ lem-sa athchuinghi d'[f]aghbail
iiait-si, a ingen,"' ar ri Laighen. ' Dogebthar. A n-6cmais do 10
beith agum co ti an bliadhain, ni fuil agum athchuinghi iarfas^
tu, nach tiub/r duit hi.' ' Mas^a', arsin righ, da m-b(^ menma
Mongdin meic Fiachna agad, a hindisin dam-sa, oir an tan
gluaisis Mongt^n, biaidh*^ a menma agat-sa.'
21. Tdinic Mongdn a cinn rdithi 7 do bi a menma fuirri-si 7 15
do bhdtar ^h'laigh an bhaile uile ann an trath sin. lar sin
tdncatar shiatgh an bhaile amach 7 do impo Mongdn on dunad
7 tdinig dia thigh 7 do bi an rdithi sin a sirg sirghalair 7 ro
thimsaighedair maithi Uladh a n-eninadh 7 targadar do
Mhongdn toidheacht" lais do thabairt chatha fo chend a mnd. 20
' Is briathar dam-sa, ol Mongdn, an ben rucadh uaim-si trem'
ainghhcus^" fein, nach tuitfe mac mna n.i kr d'Ulltachaibh
impe^i ag a tabairt amach, noga tucar-sa fe'in lem trem' gHcus
hi.'
22. Ocus tdinic an bliadhan faisin 7 do gk'iais Mongdn 7 ]\Lac 25
an Daim rompo co tech (p. 137b) righ Laighen. Is ann sin do
bdtar maithi Laighen a[g] teacht isin m-baili 7 fledh^^ nihor fa
chomhair feisi Duibhi-Lacha 7 do geall a tabairt 7 tdncatar ar
an faith[ch]i amuich. ' A Mhongain, ar Mac an Daim, ca richt
a rachum?' Ocus mar do b.-tdar ann, do chid cailleach an 30
mhuiUnd .i. Cuimne 7 fa garm[n]ach caillighe moire isein 7
madra mor ar nasc aice 7 6 ag lighe cloch an mhuilind 7
[s]elan gadraigh fo brdighit 7 Brother a ainm. Ocus do
• suigh. ^ ordhaighi. ^ clunagh. ■• raigh. " aill. " ingin.
'^ iarfas. " biaigli. " {o\ghcac^L '" ainighlic«j, " impc. '^ flegh.
68 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
chjnncadar gerr^n banmaircech 7 sensrathar^ fair neoch do
bi a[g] tarrang arbha 7 mhine 6 muilenn.
23. Ocus mar do ^ chonnaic Mongdn lat, adbert re Mac an
Daimh : ' Atd. agum richt a racham, ar se, 7 da m-be a n-d^n
5 dam-sa mo ben co. . . . d'fagbhdil, do gebh don cur sa hi.'
' Cubhaidh ^ ritt, a deg[f]laith.' ' Ocus tarra, a Mhic an Daimh,
7 gairm Cuimne an mhuilind dam amach dom' agallaim.'
' Atdt tri fichit Wiadhan, or nar far duine me da agallaim,' 7
tainic amach 7 do len an madra hi, 7 [6] adchonnaic Mongdn
10 cuge iat, do memhaidh * a gean gdire fair 7 adubert fria : ' Da
n-dernta^ mo chomairle, do chuirfind a richt ingine oigi tu 7 do
betha ad' mnai agum fein no ag righ Laighen.' ' Doghen " co
deimhin,' ar Cuimne. Ocus tuc buille dont slait drdidheachta''
don mhadra co n-derna^ mesan mingeal ^ is dille do bi 'sa bith
15 de^'^7 slabradh airgit'ma brdghait7cluigin 6irair,cod-toillfedh^^
ar boiss duine 7 tuc buille don chailligh co n-derna^'^ ingin 6[i]c
dob ferr delbh 7 denamh d' inginaibh an betha ^^ di .i. Ibhell
Gruadhsolus inghin righ Mumhan. Ocus dochiiaidh fein a
richt Aedha meic righ Con[n]acht 7 do chur Mac an Daimh
20 a richt a ghilla 7 dorinde falafr^^igh glegheal 7 folt corcra uirre
7 doroine diallait ordha co n-ilbrecaibh '^ oir 7 leg loghmar^^
dont srathar. Ocus tucadar da chapall (p. 138a) ele a richt
each futha 7 tancatar fon samhail sin 'cum an diinaid.^''
24. Ocus di?rcaighdar na doirseoiri ^'' 7 adubradar re righ
25 Laighen curbhe Aedh Alaind mac righ Con[n]acht 7 a ghilla 7
a ben .i. Ibheall Gruadhsolus ingin ri[gh] Muman ar ec[h]t«r
7 ar innarba a Con[n]achtaibh ar comairce righ Laighen tanga-
tar 7 nirbh ail leis teacht %Viagh nd sochraide budh mho. Ocus
dorinde an doirseoir^* an uirgill 7 tainic an ri ana n-aighzrt% 7
30 ro fer fdilti friu 7 do gairm ri Laighen mac ri[gh] Con[n]acht
ar a ghi- alaind. ' Ni he sin as bes againd,' ar mac ri[gh] Con-
^ sennsrathz^r. " do. ^ cubhaigh. * mebhaigh. ^' dcrrnta.
" dodew. '' draigh^ac/z/a. ^ dt'^ma. ^ mingeal. ^^ de.
11 doillfegh. '- di'mia. ^^ be//i«d. ^'* condilbr<;caibh. ^^ 16dhm«^.
^^ diinaisj. " doirrseoiri ^^ doirrseoir.
APPENDIX 69
[n]acht, 'acht suidhe^ ar slis righ don dara duine is ferr sa
bruidin 7 as misi at' egTnais-[s]i an dara duine as ferr astigh
7 ar slis righ biad.'
25. Ocus do heagrad an tech n-61a 7 ro chur Mongan blicht
serce a n-griiadhaibh na caillige 7 d' fechain da tuc n'gh 5
Laighen uirre do li'n a sercc 7 a gradh e, gu nach roibh cndim
med n-ordlaigh de nar li'n do sercc na caillighe 7 do gairm
gilla fritheolmha cuge 7 adubert ris : ' Eirigh mar a fuil ben
meic righ Con[n]acht 7 abair fria co "tuc righ Laighen sere
7 grddh mor duitt" 7 curob ferr righ 'nd righdhamna. Ocus 10
tuic Mongan ar an cogar 7 adubert re'" Cuimne : 'Ac siud
gilla 6 righ Laighen dod' chuibhe re teachtaireacht cugad 7
aithnim-si an cogar ut dohei'r se 7 da n-dernta mo chomairle,
ni bethea ac fer budh mhesa 'na mhisi no righ Laighen.' 'Ni
tugha nuach?«> lem-sa, cibe agaibh fer bias agum.' 'Mas^^f,' 15
ar Mongdn, 'mar Ucfas cugad, abair-si co tiubhartha fein
aithne ar sedaibh 7 ar mhainibh ante do beradh grddh duit 7
far an corn ^ dohez'r se cugad * air.'
26. Ocus tdinic oclach righ Laighen d[a] agallaim 7 adu-
bert : ' Ac so corn " liasal tucadh cugad.' ' Dobermais aithne 20
ar sctaibh 7 ar mhdinibh ante doberadh grddh duind.' Ocus
adbert ri Laighen risin n-gilla : ' Tabair mo chorn " di.' Ad-
bert teaghlach righ Laighen : ' Nd ta.hm'r do seoid do mndi
maic righ Connacht.' ' Dober,' bhar righ Laighen, ' oir ticfaidh ''
an ben 7 mo seoit chugam.' Ocus tarthaidh'* Mac an Daim 25
an corn'' (p. 138b) liaithi 7 gacha fuair do setaibh co matain.
27. Ocus adbert Mongdn re Cuimne : ' lar a chris ar righ
Laighen.' Ocus as amhlaidh do bi an cris 7 ni ghahhad galar
nd aingcis an ta^bh tar a ni-bith 7 do sir an cris 7 tuc righ
Laighen an cris di 7 beiridh Mac an Daimh a cetoir uaithi. 30
' Ocus abair anois re gilla righ Laighen, da tucadh an bith
duit, nd trdicfea t' fer fein air.' Ocus do indis an gilla do
righ Laighen sin 7 adubert righ Laighen : 'Cad ara full bhar
n-aire ? ' 'A fuil sibh astigh ort-sa,' bhur iat-sian. 'Is aithnidh 1°
^ suighi. - re. 3 corn«, * gugad. "* corn;;.
' chorn«. ' ticfaigh. ^ tarthaigh. " corn«. ^^ aithnigh.
70 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
ddib-si an ben so ar mo ghiialainn-si .i. Dubh-Lacha Ldimghel
ingin Fiachra Duibh meic Demdin. Rugus ar chairdis gan
era liadha hi 7 damadh dil ^ let-sa, do dhenaind imlaid riut.'
Ocus ro gabh ferg 7 loind^J mor 7 adubert : ' Da tucaind eich
5 7 greagha^ lem, do budh choir a n-iaraidh^ oram, 7 gidh edh
ni dlegar tigerna d'era fam reracha a aire, gidh lesc lem, ber-si
cugad hi.' Ocus mar doronsat iumlaid, tuc Mongan teora poc
don ingin 7 adubert * : ' Aderadais cAch nach 6 chraidhe do
ddnmais an imlaidid, muna tucaind-si na poca so.' Ocus do
10 ghabhadar ago co rabhadar mesca medharchain.
28. Ocus do eirigh Mac in Daimh 7 adubert: 'As mor a
ndire gan enduine do beradh deoch a Idimh meic righ Con-
nacht.' Ocus mar nar' fregair duine e, do gabh an dd each
as ferr do bi 'sa diinadh 7 do chur Mongdn luas gdithi isna
1 5 hecha 7 do chur Mongdn Duibh-Lacha ar a culaibh 7 do chur
Mac an Doim a ben fein 7 do ghliiaisidar rompo. Ocus mar
do eirgidar arnamharach teaghlach righ Laighen, atconcadar
bratach na caiUige 7 an chailleach Hathgharmnach ar leabaidh ^
righ Laighen 7 doconncadar an madra 7 selan gadraigh 'ma
20 brdgaid 7 doconncadar an gerran banmaircech 7 ant srathar
arp^Tsian (?) edaigh 7 do bhddar an mhuindter ar gdire 7 do
muscail righ Laighen 7 dochonnaic an cha.\\\ec/i laimh ris 7
adubert : 'An tu Cuimne CuUiath" an mhuihnd?' 'As me,' ar
si. ' Truagh mar tharrla dam-sa cumusc riut-sa, a Chuimne ! '
1 aill. " greadha. ^ iaraigh. ■* adubcrtais, with puncta
delentia under ais. ^ leabaigh. '' culiath.
[The Conception of Mongan and Dub-Lacha's
Love for Mongan.]
25 I. Once upon a time Fiachna Finn, son of Baetdn, son of
Murchertach, son of Muredach, son of Eogan, son of Niall,
went forth from Ireland, until he came to Lochlann, over
which Eolgarg Mor, son of Magar, was at that time king.
There he found great respect and love and honour. And he
APPENDIX 71
was not long there, when a disease seized the king of Loch-
lann, who asked of his leeches and physicians what would
help him. And they told him there was in the world nothing
that would help him, save a red-eared shining-white cow,
which was to be boiled for him. And the people of Loch- 5
lann searched for the cow, and there was found the single
cow of Caillech Dub (Black Hag). Another cow was offered
to her in its stead, but the hag refused. Then four were
offered to her, viz., one cow for every foot, and the hag would
not accept any other condition but that Fiachna should be- 10
come security. Now this was the hour and the time that
messengers came for Fiachna Finn, the son of Baetan, and
he went with those messengers, and took the kingship of
Ulster, and was' king for one year.
2. One day at the end of a year he heard cries of distress in 15
front of the fort, and he told (his men) to go and see who made
those cries, and to let the person that made them into the house.
And there was the hag from Lochlann come to demand her
security. Fiachna knew her and bade her welcome and asked
tidings of her. 'Evil tidings I have,' said the hag. 'The king 20
of Lochlann has deceived me in the matter of the four kine that
were promised to me for my cow.' ' I will give thee four kine on
his behalf, O hag,' said Fiachna. But the hag said she would
not take them. ' I will give twenty kine on his behalf,' said
Fiachna. ' I shall not take them,' said the hag. ' I will give 25
four times twenty kine,' said Fiachna, ' twenty kine for each
cow.' ' By my word,' said the hag, 'if all the kine of the pro-
vince of Ulster were given to me, I should not take them, until
thou come thyself to make war upon the king of Lochlann.
As I have come to thee from the east, so do thou come on 30
a journey with me.'
3. Then Fiachna assembled the nobles of Ulster until he had
ten equally large battalions, and went and announced battle to
the men of Lochlann. And they were three days a-gathering
unto the battle. And combat was made by the king of Loch- 35
lann on the men of Ireland. And three hundred warriors fell
72 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
by Fiachna in the fight. And venomous sheep were let out of
the king of Lochlann's tent against them, and on that day
three hundred warriors fell by the sheep, and three hundred
warriors fell on the second day, and three hundred on the third
5 day. That was grievous to Fiachna, and he said : ' Sad is the
journey on which we have come, for the purpose of having our
people killed by the sheep. For if they had fallen in battle or in
combat by the host of Lochlann, we should not deem their fall
a disgrace, for they would avenge themselves. Give me,' saith
lo he, ' my arms and my dress that I may myself go to fight against
the sheep.' ' Do not say that, O King,' said they, ' for it is not
meet that thou shouldst go to fight against them.' 'By my
word,' said Fiachna, ' no more of the men of Ireland shall fall
by them, till I myself go to fight against the sheep ; and if I
15 am destined to find death there, I shall find it, for it is
impossible to avoid fate ; and if not, the sheep will fall by
me.'
4. As they were thus conversing, they saw a single tall war-
like man coming towards them. He wore a green cloak of one
20 colour, and a brooch of white silver in the cloak over his breast,
and a satin shirt next his white skin. A circlet of gold around
his hair, and two sandals of gold under his feet. And the warrior
said : ' What reward wouldst thou give to him who would keep
the sheep from thee V 'By my word,' said Fiachna, ' [whatever
25 thou ask], provided I have it, I should give it.' 'Thou shalt have
it (to give),' said the warrioi-, ' and I will tell thee the reward.'
' Say the sentence,' said Fiachna. ' I shall say it,' said he ;
'give me that ring of gold on thy finger as a token for me, when
I go to Ireland to thy wife to sleep with her.' ' By my word,'
30 said Fiachna, ' I would not let one man of the men of Ireland
fall on account of that condition.' ' It shall be none the worse
for thee ; for a glorious child shall be begotten by me there,
and from thee he shall be named, even Mongan the Fair (Finn),
son of Fiachna the Fair. And I shall go there in thy shape, so
35 that thy wife shall not be defiled by it. And I am Manannan, son
of Ler, and thou shalt seize the kingship of Lochlann and of
APPENDIX 73
the Saxons and Britons.' Then the warrior took a venomous
hound 1 out of his cloak, and a chain upon it, and said : 'By
my word, not a single sheep shall carry its head from her to the
fortress of the king of Lochlann, and she will kill three hundred
of the hosts of Lochlann, and thou shalt have what will come of 5
it.' The warrior went to Ireland, and in the shape of Fiachna
himself he slept with Fiachna's wife, and in that night she
became pregnant. On that day the sheep and three hundred
of the nobles of Lochlann fell by the dog, and Fiachna seized
the kingship of Lochlann and of the Saxons and Britons. 10
5. Now, as to the Cailleach Dubh, Fiachna gave her her due,
viz., seven castles with their territory and land, and a hundred
of ever>^ cattle. And then he went into Ireland and found his
wife big-bellied and pregnant, and when her time came, she
bore a son. Now Fiachna the Fair had an attendant, whose 15
name was An Damh, and in that (same) night his wife brought
forth a son, and they were christened together, and the son of
Fiachna was named Mongan, and the son of the attendant was
named Mac an Daimh. And there was another warrior reign-
ing together with Fiachna the Fair, to wit Fiachna the Black, 20
son of Deman,- who lay heavily on his ^ rule. And to him in
the same night a daughter was born, to whom the name Dubh-
Lacha (Black Duck) White-hand was given, and Mongan and
Dubh-Lacha were afifianced to each other. When Mongan
was three nights old, Manannan came for him and took him 25
with him to bring him up in the Land of Promise, and vowed
that he would not let him back into Ireland before he were
twelve years of age.
6. Now as to Fiachna the Black, son of Deman, he watched
his opportunity, and when he found that Fiachna the Fair, son 30
of Baedan, had with him but a small host and force, he went up
to his stronghold, and burnt and destroyed it, and killed
^ brot-chii, perhajis a mastiff. Sec Glossary.
2 lie was ruler of the Dal Fiatach. See the Four Masters, A.l).
597 and 622.
^ i.e. Fiachna Finn's.
74 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Fiachna himself, and seized the kingship of Ulster by force.*
And all the men of Ulster desired Mongan to be brought to
them when he was six years old, but Manannan did not bring
him to Ulster till he had completed sixteen years. And then
5 he came to Ulster, and the men of Ulster made peace between
themselves and Fiachna the Black, to wit, one-half of Ulster
to Mongan, and Dubh-Lacha to be his wife and consort in
retaliation for his father. And it was done so.
7. One day while Mongan and his wife were '^X'a.ym'g fidchell,
10 they saw a dark black-tufted little cleric at the door-post, who
said : 'This inactivity ^ in which thou art, O Mongan, is not an
inactivity becoming a king of Ulster, not to go to avenge thy
father on Fiachna the Black, son of Deman, though Dubh-
Lacha may think it wrong to tell thee so. For he has now but
15 a small host and force with him ; and come with me thither,
and let us burn the fortress, and let us kill Fiachna.' ' There is
no knowing what luck ^ there may be on that saying, O cleric,'
said Mongan, ' and we shall go with thee.' And thus it was done,
for Fiachna the Black was killed by them.* Mongan seized
20 the kingship of Ulster, and the little cleric who had done the
treason was Manannan the great and mighty.
8. And the nobles of Ulster were gathered to Mongan, and
he said to them : ' I desire to go to seek boons ^ from the pro-
vincial kings of Ireland, that I may get gold and silver and
25 wealth to give away.' 'That is a good plan,' said they. And
he went forth into the provinces of Ireland, until he came to
Leinster. And the king of Leinster at that time was Brandubh
^ I can make nothing of tdagh in the phrase don ulagh sin. As to
this final battle between the two Fiachnas, see the Four Masters, A. D.
622.
2 lit. sile-.ce (tocht).
^ I read ca sen.
* According to the Four Masters Fiachna the Black was slain A. D.
624 by Condad Cerr, lord of the Scotch Dal Riada in the battle
of Ard Corainn.
^ faighdhc, O. Ix.foigde ex *fo-guide.
APPENDIX 75
mac Echach. And he gave a hearty welcome to the king of
Ulster, and they slept that night in the place, and when
Mongan awoke on the morrow, he saw the fifty white red-eared
kine, and a white calf by the side of each cow, and as soon as
he saw them he was in love with them. And the king of 5
Leinster observed him and said to him : ' Thou art in love with
the kine, O king,' saith he. ' By my word,' said Mongan, 'save
the kingdom of Ulster, I never saw anything that I would
rather have than them.' ' By my word,' said the king of
Leinster, 'they are a match for Dubh-Lacha, for she is the one 10
woman that is most beautiful in Ireland, and those kine are the
most beautiful cattle in Ireland, and on no condition in the
world would I give them except on our making friendship
without refusal.'
9. They did so, and each bound the other. And Mongan 15
went home and took his thrice {sic) fifty white kine with him.
And Dubh-Lacha asked : ' What are the cattle that are the
most beautiful that I ever saw? and he who got them,' saith
she, '. . . , for no man got them except for . . . .' And
Mongan told her how he had obtained the kine. And they 20
were not long there when they saw hosts approaching the place,
and 'tis he that was there, even the king of Leinster. ' What
hast thou come to seek ? ' said Mongan. ' For, by my word, if
what thou seekest be in the province of Ulster, thou shalt have
it.' 'It is, then,' said the king of Leinster. 'To seek Dubh- 25
Lacha have I come.'
10. Silence fell upon Mongan. And he said: 'I have never heard
of any one giving away his wife.' ' Though thou hast not heard
of it,' said Dubh-Lacha, 'give her, for honour is more lasting
than life.' Anger seized Mongan, and he allowed the king of 30
Leinster to take her with him. Dubh-Lacha called the king of
Leinster aside and said to him : ' Dost thou know, O king of
Leinster, that the men and one half of Ulster would fall for my
sake, except I had already given love to thee ? And by my word !
I shall not go with thee until thou grant me the sentence of my 35
own lips.' 'What is the sentence?' said the king of Leinster.
76 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
' Thy word to fulfil it ! ' saith she. The king of Leinster gave
his word, with the exception of his being left . . .^ ' Then,
said Dubh-Lacha, ' I desire that until the end of one year we be
not brought for one night into the same house, and if in the
5 course of a day thou comest into the same house with me, that
thou shouldst not sit in the same chair with me, but sit in a
chair over against me, for I fear the exceeding great love which
I have bestowed upon thee, that thou mayst hate me, and that
I may not again be acceptable to my own husband ; for if we
lo are a-courting each other during this coming year, our love will
not recede.'
ir. And the king of Leinster granted her that condition,
and he took her to his house, and there she was for a while.
And for that while Mongan was in a wasting sickness con-
15 tinually. And in the night in which Mongan had taken
Dubh-Lacha, Mac an Daimh had taken her foster-sister, who
was her trusty attendant, and who had gone into Leinster
with Dubh-Lacha. So one day Mac an Daimh came into
the house where Mongan was, and said : ' Things are in a
20 bad way with thee,'-^ O Mongan,' saith he, ' and evil was thy
journey into the Land of Promise to the house of Manannan,
since thou hast learnt nothing there, except consuming food
and practising foolish things, and it is hard on me that my
wife has been taken into Leinster, since / have not made
25 "friendship without refusal" with the king of Leinster's
attendant, as thou didst with the king of Leinster, thus being
unable to follow thy wife.' ' No one deems that worse than
I myself,' said Mongan.
12. And Mongan said to Mac an Daimh: 'Go,' saith he,
30 'to the cave of the door, in which we left the basket of . . .,^
and a sod f>-om Ireland and another from Scotland in it, that
I may go with thee on thy back ; for the king of Leinster will
1 I doubt whether to read co tibhradh or co ti brdth ' till judgment. '
" Cf. ' Cindus atdthar annsin indiii ? ' ' How are things with thee
(lit. over there) to-day?' Aislinge MeicConglinne, p. 61, i.
^ gualaigh, perhaps from giiala, a shoulder-basket ?
APPENDIX 77
ask of his wizards news of me, and they will say that I am
with one foot in Ireland, and with the other in Scotland, and
he will say that as long as I am like that he need not fear me.'
13. And in that way they set out. And that was the hour
and time in which the feast of Moy-Liffey was held in Leinster, 5
and they came to the Plain of Cell Chamain in Leinster, and
there beheld the hosts and multitudes and the king of Leinster
going past them to the feast, and they recognised him. ' That
is sad, O Mac an Daimh,' said Mongan, 'evil is the journey
on which we have come.' And they saw the holy cleric going 10
past them, even Tibraide, the priest of Cell Chamain, with his
Ifour gospels in his own hand, and the . . . ^ upon the back
of a cleric by his side, and they reading their offices. And
wonder seized Mac an Daimh as to what the cleric said, and
he kept asking Mongan : 'What did he say?' Mongan said 15
it vvas reading, and he asked Mac an Daimh whether he
understood a little of it. ' I do not understand,' said Mac an
Daimh, ' except that the man at his back says " Amen, amen." '
14. Thereupon Mongan shaped a large river through the
midst of the plain in front of Tibraide, and a large bridge 20
across it. And Tibraide marvelled at that and began to bless
himself. "Tis here,' he said, 'my father was born and my
grandfather, and never did I see a river here. But as the
river has got there, it is well there is a bridge across it.'
They proceeded to the bridge, and when they had reached 25
its middle, it fell under them, and Mongan snatched the
gospels out of Tibraide's hand, and sent them - down the river.
And he asked Mac an Daimh whether he should drown them.
' Certainly, let them be drowned ! ' said Mac an Daimh. ' We
will not do it,' said Mongan. 'We will let them down the 30
river the length of a mile, till we have done our task in the
fortress.'
15. Mongan took on himself the shape of Tibraide, and
gave Mac an Daimh the shape of the cleric, with a large
^ I cannot translate sceola na n-aidhbhea^h or aidhbhcoiih.
."^ i.e. Tibraide and his attendant.
78 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
tonsure on his head, and the ... on his back. And they
go onward before the king of Leinster, who welcomed Tibraide
and gave him a kiss, and "Tis long that I have not seen
thee, O Tibraide,' he said, 'and read the gospel to us and
5 proceed before us to the fortress. And let Ceibhin Cochlach,
the attendant of my chariot, go with thee. And the queen,
the wife of the king of Ulster, is there and would like to
confess to thee.' And while Mongan was reading the gospel,
Mac an Daimh would say ' Amen, amen.' The hosts said they
lo had never seen a priest who had but one word except that
cleric ; for he said nothing but 'amen.'
1 6. And Mongan went onward to the front of the fortress
in which Dubh-Lacha was. And she recognised him. And
Mac an Daimh said : ' Leave the house all of ye, so that
15 the queen may make her confession.' And her nurse or
foster sister ventured out of boldness to stay there. Mac an
Daimh closed his arms around her and put her out, and said
that no one should be with the queen except the woman that
had come with her. And he closed the bower after them
20 and put the glazen door to it, and opened the window of glass.
And he lifted his own wife into bed with him, but no sooner
than Mongan had taken Dubh-Lacha with him. And Mongan
sat down by her shoulder and gave her three kisses, and
carried her into bed with him, and had his will and pleasure
25 of her. And when that had been done, the hag who guarded
the jewels, who was in the corner, began to speak ; for they
had not noticed her until then. And Mongan sent a swift
magical breath at her, so that what she had seen was no
longer clear to her. ' That is sad,' said the hag, ' do not rob
30 me of Heaven, O holy cleric ! For the thought that I have
uttered is wrong, and accept my repentance, for a lying vision
has appeared to me, and I dearly love my foster-child.' ' Come
hither to me, hag ! ' said Mongan, ' and confess to me.' The
hag arose, and Mongan shaped a sharp spike in the chair,
35 and the hag fell upon the spike, and found death. 'A blessing
on thee, O Mongan,' said the queen, ' it is a good thing for us
APPENDIX 79
to have killed the woman, for she would have told what we
have done.'
17. Then they heard a knocking at the door, and 'tis he
that was there, even Tibraide, and three times nine men
with him. The doorkeepers said : ' We never saw a year in 5
which Tibraides were more plentiful than this year. Ye have
a Tibraide within and a Tibraide without.' "Tis true,' said
Mongan.^ ' Mongan has come in my shape. Come out,'
said he, 'and I will reward you, and let yonder clerics be
killed, for they are noblemen of Mongan's that have been 10
put into the shape of clerics.' And the men of the household
came out and killed the clerics, and twice nine of them fell.
And the king of Leinster came to them and asked them what
course they were on. 'Mongan,' said they, 'has come in
Tibraide's shape, and Tibraide is in the place.' And the king 15
of Leinster charged them, and Tibraide reached the church
of Cell Chamain, and none of the remaining nine escaped
without a wound.
18. And the king of Leinster came to his house, and then
Mongan departed. And the king asked : 'Where is Tibraide?' 20
saith he. ' It was not Tibraide that was here,' said the woman,
' but Mongan, since you will hear it.' ' Were you with Mongan,
girl ? ' said he. ' I was,' said she, ' for he has the greatest claim
on me.' ' Send for Tibraide,' said the king, 'for , . .^ we have
chanced to kill his people.' And Tibraide was brought to them, ~S
and Mongan went home and did not come again until the end
of a cjuarter, and during that time he was in a wasting sickness.
19. And Mac an Daimh came to him and said to him : ' Tis
wearisome to me,' said he, 'to be without my wife through a
clown like myself, since / have not made "friendship without 3°
refusal " with the king of Leinster's attendant.' ' Go thou for
me,' said Mongan, ' to get news to Rdith Descirt of Bregia,
where Dubh-Lacha of the White Hand is, for I am not myself
^ The MS. has Tibraide.
* I do not understand miir aith.
8o THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
able to go.' ^ Thereafter Dubh-Lacha said : ' Let Mongan
come to me,' said she, 'for the king of Leinster is on a journey
around Leinster, and Ceibhin Cochlach, the attendant of the
king's chariot, is with me and keeps telling me to escape, and
5 that he himself would come with me. And Mongan behaves
in a weak manner,' - said she. And Mac an Daimh went to
incite Mongan.
20. Thereupon Mongan set out to Raith Descirt of Bregia,
and he sat down at the shoulder of the girl, and a gilded chess-
10 board was brought to them, and they played. And Dubh-
Lacha bared her breasts to Mongan, and as he looked upon
them, he beheld the great paps, which were soft and white, and
the middle small and shining-white. And desire of the girl
came upon him. And Dubh-Lacha observed it. Just then the
15 king of Leinster with his hosts was drawing near the fortress,
and the fortress was opened before him. And the king of
Leinster asked of the girl whether Mongan had been in the
house. She said he had been. ' I wish to obtain a request of
thee, girl,' said the king of Leinster. ' It shall be granted.
20 Except thy being with me till the year is ended, there is nothing
that thou mayst ask which I will not grant thee.' ' If that be
so,' said the king, ' tell me when thou longest for Mongan son
of Fiachna ; for when Mongan has gone, thou wilt long for
him.'
25 21. At the end of a quarter Mongan returned, and he was
longing for her ; and all the hosts of the place were there at
the time. Then the hosts of the place came out, and Mongan
turned back from the fortress and went home. And that
quarter he was in a wasting sickness. And the nobles of Ulster
30 assembled into one place and offered Mongan to go with him
to make battle for the sake of his wife. ' By my word,' said
Mongan, ' the woman that has been taken from me through my
own folly, no woman's son of the men of Ulster shall fall for
1 The MS. has sin'smbhail, the dot over the first s being a punctum
delens.
- lit. it is weak what M. does.
APPENDIX 8i
her sake in bringing her out, until, through my own craftiness,
I myself bring her with me.'
22. And in that way the year passed by, and Mongan and
Mac an Daimh set out to the king of Leinster's house. There
were the nobles of Leinster going into the place, and a great 5
feast was being prepared towards the marriage of Dubh-Lacha.
And he ^ vowed he would marry her. And they came to the
green outside. 'O Mongan,' said Mac an Daimh, 'in what
shape shall we go ?' And as they were there, they see the hag
of the mill, to wit, Cuimne. And she was a hag as tall as a lo
weaver's beam,- and a large chain-dog with her licking the
mill-stones, with a twisted rope around his neck, and Brothar
was his name. And they saw a hack mare with an old pack-
saddle upon her, carrying corn and flour from the mill.
23. And when Mongan saw them, he said to Mac an Daimh : 15
'I have the shape in which we will go,' said he, 'and if I am
destined ever to obtain my wife, I shall do so this time.' ' That
becomes thee, O noble prince,' [said Mac an Daimh]. ' And
come, O Mac an Daimh, and call Cuimne of the mill out to me
to converse with me.' ' It is three score years [said Cuimne] 20
since any one has asked me to converse with him.' And she
came out, the dog following her, and when Mongan saw them,
he laughed and said to her : ' If thou wouldst take my advice,
I would put thee into the shape of a young girl, and thou
shouldst be as a wife with me or with the King of Leinster.' ' I 25
will do that certainly,' said Cuimne. And with the magic wand
he gave a stroke to the dog, which became a sleek white lap-
dog, the fairest that was in the world, with a silver chain
around its neck and a little bell of gold on it, so that it^ would
have fitted into the palm of a man. And he gave a stroke to 30
the hag, who became a young girl, the fairest of form and make
ofthe daughters oftheworld,to wit, Ibhell of the Shining Cheeks,
1 i.e. the king of Leinster.
- lit. a weaver's beam (garmnach) of a tall hag.
" viz. the clog.
F
82 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
daughter of the king of Munster. And he himself assumed the
shape of Aedh, son of the king of Connaught, and Mac an
Daimh he put into the shape of his attendant. And he made
a shining-white palfrey with crimson hair, and of the pack-
5 saddle he made a gilded saddle with variegated gold and
precious stones. And they mounted two other mares in the
shape of steeds, and in that way they reached the fortress.
24. And the door-keepers saw them and told the king of
Leinster that it was Aed the Beautiful, son of the king of
10 Connaught, and his attendant, and his wife Ibhell of the Shining
Cheek, daughter of the king of Munster, exiled and banished
from Connaught, that had come under the protection of the
king of Leinster, and he did not wish to come with a greater
host or multitude. And the door-keeper made the announce-
15 ment, and the king came to meet them, and welcomed them.
And the king of Leinster called the son of the king of Con-
naught to his shoulder. ' That is not the custom with us,' said
the son of the king of Connaught, ' but that he should sit by the
side of the king who is the second best man in the palace, and
20 next to thee I am the second best in the house, and by the side
of the king I will be.'
25. And the drinking-house was put in order. And Mongan
put a love-charm ^ into the cheeks of the hag, and from the look
which the king of Leinster cast on her he was filled with her
25 love, so that there was not a bone of his of the size of an inch,
but was filled with love of the girl. And he called his attendant
to him and said to him : ' Go to where the wife of the king of
Connaught's son is, and say to her " the king of Leinster has
bestowed great love upon thee, and that a king is better than
30 a king's heir." ' And Mongan understood the whispering, and
said to Cuimne : 'There is an attendant coming from the king
of Leinster with a message to thee, and I know the secret
message which he brings, and if thou wouldst take my advice,
thou wouldst not be with a worse man than myself or the king
^ Instead of blicht I read bricht.
APPENDIX 83
of Leinster.' ' I have no choice^ of bridegroom, whichever of you
will be husband to me.' ' If that be so,' said Mongan, ' when he
comes to thee, say that by his gifts and precious things thou
wilt know him who loves thee, and ask him for the drinking-
horn which he brings thee.' 5
26. And the king of Leinster's attendant came to converse
with her, and said : ' Here is a noble horn brought to thee.'
'We should know him who loves us by gifts and precious
things.' And the king of Leinster said to the attendant :
' Give her my horn.' But the king's household said : ' Do not 10
give thy treasures to the wife of the King of Connaught's son.'
' I will give them,' saiid the king of Leinster, ' for the woman
and my treasures will come to me.' And Mac an Daimh takes
the horn from her and whatever else she got of treasures till
the morning. 15
27. And Mongan said to Cuimne : ' Ask the king of Leinster
for his girdle.' And the girdle was of such a nature that
neither sickness nor trouble would seize the side on which it
was. And she demanded the girdle, and the king of Leinster
gave it her, and Mac an Daimh forthwith took it from her. 20
' And now say to the king of Leinster's attendant, if the (whole)
world were given thee, thou wouldst not leave thy own husband
for him.' And the attendant told that to the king of Leinster,
who said: 'What is it you notice?' 'Are you in the house
. . .?' said they. 'You know this woman by my side, to wit, 25
Dubh-Lacha of the White Hands, daughter of Fiachna Dubh
son of Deman. I took her from him on terms of "friendship
without refusal," and if thou like, I would exchange with thee.'
And great anger and ferocity seized him,- and he said : ' If I
had brought steeds and studs with me, it would be right to ask 30
them of me. However, it is not right to refuse a lord . . .,
though I am loath it should be so, take her to thee.' And as
they made the exchange, Mongan gave three kisses to the girl,
* For ttigka Father Ilenebry conjectures togha.
' viz. Mongan.
84 THE VOYAGE OF^RAN
and said : ' Every one would say that we did not make the
exchange from our hearts, if I did not give these kisses.' And
they indulged themselves until they were drunk and hilarious.
28. And Mac an Daimh arose and said : ' It is a great shame
5 that no one puts drink into the hand of the king of Connaught's
son.' And as no one answered him, he took the two best steeds
that were in the fortress, and Mongan put swiftness of wind
into them. And Mongan placed Dubh-Lacha behind him, and
Mac an Daimh his own wife, and they set forth. And when on
10 the morrow the household of the king of Leinster arose, they
saw the cloak of the hag, and the grey tall hag on the bed of
the king of Leinster. And they saw the dog with a twisted
halter round his neck, and they saw the hack mare and the
pack-saddle. . . . And the people laughed and awoke the king
15 of Leinster, who saw the hag by his side and said : ' Art thou
the grey-backed hag of the mill ? ' 'I am,' said she. ' Pity
that I should have slept with thee, O Cuimne ! '
VI
From the Annals.^
(a)
Mongdn mac Fiachna Lurgan ab Artur^ filio Bicoir Pretene
lapide^ percussus interit, unde dictum est — Bee Boirche
20 dixit :
' Is fuar in gaeth dar 'He,*
dosfuil 5 (5cu *> Cind-Tire : '^
dog^nat^ gni'm n-amnas^ de,
mairbfit i" Mongan mac Fiachnse.
1 r=Tigernach ( + 10S8), Rawl. B. 448, fo. 9b, 2, a.d. 624; AU
= Annals 01 Ulster, A.D. 625; C/;r= Chronicum Scotorum, a.d. 625;
FM— Annals of the Four Masters, a.d. 620. " Artuir /'Arthur CAr.
3 bi coirpre tene lapite T'Britoni C/ir do Bretnaibh FAL ■* Aile T.
^ dusfail C/ir doinil T. ^ oga C/^r oca i T'occa i FM. '' Ciunn-Tire
FM. ^ dogena T dogenait Chr dogensat FM. ^ amnus T namnus
Chr FM. " muirfidh 7'mairbfid Chr mairfit FM.
APPENDIX 85
Land Chliiana Airthir indfu,
amra in cethrar forsrfadad :
Cormac Cdem fri imfochid,i
ocus Illand mac Fiachach.2
Ocus 3 in dfas ele 5
dia ^ fognad 5 m6r de ^ thuathaib :
Mongan mac Fiachnai Lurgan,
ocus R6nan mac Tuathail. ' ''
^ sic FM imochid T Chr. ' sic Chr A U Fiachrach FM Fiachna T.
^ om. AU. '^ om. AU. ^ sic FM. foghnonn 7" fognaid C/^r fosgniat 10
AU. ^ ^\ AU Ao cet. ^ For a translation of this extract, see p. 138.
From the Annals of Clonmacnois.
Quoted by O'Donovan, FM. vol. i. p. 243, note z.
A.D. 624. Mongan mac Fiaghna, a very well-spoken man,
and much given to the wooing of women, was killed by one
[Arthur ap] Bicoir, a Welshman, with a stone. 15
VII
Irische Texte iii. page 89.
' A Mongain, a Manandain,
ni minec bar merugud
isin brug co m-be6craidi
6 Tuind Clidna comfada
is torachta in tebugud 20
CO TrAcht n-alaind n-E6thaili.'
' O Mongan, O ManannAn,
Your wandering is not frequent
In the land with living heart
From Tonn Clidna of even length 25
The ... is winding
To the beautiful strand of Eothaile.'
Quoted as an example of the metre called Casbairdne seise-
dach (scdradhach). Tonn Clidna (Toun Cleena) is a loud surge
in the bay of Glandore, co. Cork. See its dinnshenchas, Rev. 30
86 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Celt. XV. p. 437. Tracht Eothaili (Trawohelly) is on the coast
of Sligo.
VIII
Irische Texte iii. p. 87.
5 ' I m-Bendchur
atd Mongdn mac Ffachna :
is le[is] ata Conchobur
ar grafaind scailte scfathcha. '
' In Bangor
10 Is Mongdn son of Fiachna :
With him is Conchobur
At the contest of shield-splitting.'
Quoted as an example of the metre called aefreslige becc. Is
lets is Stokes' conjecture for isle of the MS.
15 IX
From Gilla Modutu's poem Senchas Ban, jwritten A.D.
1147, Book of Leinster, p. 140 a, 29.
' Ingen do Chammdin Dub-Lacha,
lenndn Mongain, maith a eland,
20 Colgo, Conall, ba lucht lathair,
Caintig^rn a mdthair mall :
ingen maic Demm4in Dub-Lacha
na n-gellam cen tacha thall.'
' Camm4n's daughter was Dub-Lacha,
25 The beloved of Mongan, their offspring was good,
Colgo, Conall, that were folk of strength,
Cdintigern was his gentle mother.
Daughter of Demmdn's son was Dub-Lacha
Of the white arms, without fault, of yore.'
30 Cammdn Dub, the daughter of Furudrdn mac Becce, of the
royal race of the Ui Turtri, was the wife of Fiachna Dub mac
Demmdin (LL. 140 a, I'j).
Unless mdthair mall may mean 'grandmother/ we must
translate as I have done, and refer the a ' his ' to Mongiin.
35 As to Dub-Lacha being called 'of the white arms,' cf. her
by-name Ldimhghel, p. 61, 10 above.
APPENDIX 87
X
From Ms. Laud 615, p. 21.
Mura cecinit.
' Coinne Mongain is Coluim caim
maic Feidlimthe an ardnaoim 5
a Carraic Eolairg co m-bloidh
canuid eolaigh a leabruib.
De dardain tainic gan mairg
Mongan co Carruic Eolairg
d' acallaim Coluim Cille lO
a Tir tredaig Tairngaire.
Ni fuair Mongan do tognam
ag techt do d' kchaifi nime
acht a cenn — mor in soc[h]ar —
fa cochall Coluim Cille.' 1 5
Muru (of Fothain ^) cecinit.
' The meeting of Mongan and beloved Colum
The son of Fedlimid, the noble saint,
At Carraic Eolairg " with fame
Wise men sing in books. 20
On a Thursday without woe
Mongan came to Carraic Eolairg
To converse with Colum Cille,
From the flock-abounding Land of Promise.
Mongan found not any help 2 c
When he went to see Heaven,
But his head — great the profit ! —
Under Colum Cille's cowl."
^ Now Fahan, co. Donegal. Muru died about 650.
* On Lough Foyle.
88 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
From Ms. Laud 615, p. 18.
Mongan cecinit do Colum Cille.
Caomh-Colum cdidh ciuin cuhaid cohsaid comdalach com
ramach cumachtach Cille mirbuilech,
5 ag nach fuil gradh ilselba,
cabras da mainib gan dimda
gach dam imda ilarda,
nach fuil ia7-M\. na i fich na ferg,
gnuis derg lethan lainnerdha,
10 corp gel ar n-derbad a riiin,
ocus clii gan Imharbus,
rosg glas gan locht is gan lasg
ocus folt cas coinnelda.2
Foghar gotha Coluim Cille,
15 lor a binne os gach cleir,
CO cend cmgfichct ddc ceimenn,
aidble reraenn, sedh ba reil.
Mac Eit[h]ni is Fei[d]limid finn
cuigi romcinn Dia do cein
a Tir Tarrngaire na finn,
20 mar a cantar fir gan br^ig.
Tri caoguit inis rea rim
ma docuired on rig rdd,'^
in gach innsi dar mo leighend
tri coibheis Eirenn fodein,
25 Mar domsdfur mac De gu haghmar,
om tir fain tanag ane
gu Carraig Eolairg gan mebail,
cu bord Locha Febail fein.
1
This na is superfluous ; it spoils the metre.
" In the notes on Felire Oengusso, p. ci. , these lines are as follows ;
' Colam cdincruth cumachtach,
drech derg lethan lainderda,
corp geal, cl£i can imarba,
folt cass, suil glas chaindelta.'
^ Read reil.
APPENDIX 89
Loch Febail fial nocho mlbladh
ag dilad aidhed'^ o N6i\\.
Colum Cille c4in gan g6,
briathra an laoich gersat ra 16,
ant6 nach cabair na fainn 5
noca carann 2 caom-Choluim.
Caomh-Cholum caidh. '
Beloved, chaste, gentle, just, firm, disputant, combative,
owerful, miraculous Colum Cille,
' Who loveth not many possessions, lO
Who with his gifts without displeasure
Helpeth every numerous multitudinous band.
Over thee there is neither wrath nor anger,
Red broad radiant face,
White body that hath proved mysteries, 1 5
And fame without sin,
Grey eye without fault and without . . . ,
And curly luminous hair.
The sound of Colum Cille's voice —
Abundant its sweetness above every train, 20
To the end of fifteen score paces,
Vastness of courses ! it was clear.3
The son of Ethne and of Fedlimid the Fair,
To him God sent me from afar.
From the Land of Promise of the blessed, 2?
Where truth is sung without falsehood.
Thrice fifty isles are counted.
As they were set by the bright King ;
In every isle, by my lore !
There is three times the size of Erin herself. -.q
' Read iMghedh. - Read cara.
^ This quatrain is also found In Three Middle-Irish Homilies, p. 102,
in Fclire Oengusso, p. ci, and in Goidclica, p. 163. Instead of cJic
Hchet die read c6ic dt dc'ac. Diac having become a monosyllabic, cit
was changed 'rnXofichet to make up the seven syllables.
90 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
As the Sou of God directed me prosperously,
From my own land I have come yesterday
To Carraic Eolairg without disgrace,
To the edge of Lough Foyle itself.
5 Loch Foyle, hospitable without ill-fame.
Contenting the guests of the Ui Ndll.
Colum Cille, fair without falsehood,
Though the words of the warrior were . . .
He that doth not help the weak,
lO He is no friend of beloved Colum.'
GLOSSARY
4 height, aa 20. 56. Cf. Bezzenb.
Beitr. xix. 38. dam congair iuV da
k, Amra C. C. (Eg. 1782, fo. 6a, i).
aball f. apple-tree. dat. abaill 3. W.
afall f. See note on p. 4.
adautt tut! 48, 4. attaut, a cl6rig !
LBr. 260'^, 33.
adhaim I perceive, hearl 47, 1. 4. 7.
dge m. period. 21. 56, 9. O'Don.
Suppl. CO tised aigi na bliadna sin,
Gencmain Aeda SI. , 9.
aiciucht lesson, gen. aiciuchta 52, 18.
airchend m. eridl chiefi 56. See
notes on pp. 26 and 40.
aircthech bountiful. Aircthech 12.
airechtas m. gathering, assembly.
gen. airechtais 66.
airecol n. oratory (Lat. oraculum) ;
awj)/ small house. 53, 16. 56, 18.
aister travel, journey. 59, 20.
dithgeod lampooning, reviliiig. dat.
dithgiud (aithchiud) 46, 7. aith-
ge6d (aitlicheod) 48, 3. na
f(Staither d'athgud na d'cligud, LL.
262a. 46.
aithlig ? 48, 2.
aitbrech causing repentance. 63.
ambrit (with gen.) barren {o/). LL.
277b, 15. amrit, F(5I. Oeng. clx.xi.
nom. pi. ambriti 46, 11.
an-gair very short. 50.
an-guss strengthlessness , weakness. 44.
apthu f. perdition. 47. ace. i n-
apthin Wb. 32c, 16. abthain.
Laws I. 10, 1, 2.
ar-gnfu / prepare, make. arung^n
57. ni arg^nsat bi'ada d6ib, LU.
58a, 12.
asa whose is {are). 11. See F(51.
Oeng. Index. maith in fer asa
cich, FB. 38. Cf. ata.
asce? 47, 1. 3.
asendath at last. 2. 46, 13. 14.
ata whose are. 11. See ata, ata n-,
Fel. Oeng. Index,
atbobuid he refused} 46, 15.
atluigiur (with ace.) / give thanks
{for), atlugestar 43, 15. nicon-
roatlaigestar m'athair-se a chuit
riam, LL. 279a, 1.
baa good. 48, 3. nirbo baa d6-som,
LL. 287b, 3.
ban-chor(5n a small band of women.
20. Cf. banchuire (of mermaids),
LL. 197a, 44.
ban-glan pale-pure. ace. f. banglain
43. 21.
ban-niaircech oj a marc (ban-marc).
68, 1. 71, 22.
bAth world, gen. bdtha 6. maithi
uli du dib bdthaib (rhymes with
92
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
rdthaib), Book of Fenagh, p. i6o,
26. Cf. Bezzenb. Beitr. xix. 52.
b^su 19. See note on p. 39.
bith-aittreb everlasting abode. 46.
LU. 17b, 26. LL. 281a, 18.
blath n. blossom, dat. bldth 2, 43.
nom. pi. blitha 6. dat. bldthaib
3- 7-
blithe f. bloom, gen. bldthe. 2.
braine leader (3=t6isech). 62.
brainech (broinech) having a prow
(of a skiff). 34. having a front (of
a fortress). 56, 17. dlaind do
briiach, do braine (of a diin), LL.
193a, 37. See Aisl. Meic. Congl.
Inde.x s. v. braine.
bratach cloak. 70, 20.
hr6 multiitidel .i. iomad, O'Cl. dat.
br6u 29.
brot-chii a snappish, bititig hound.
60, 25. cu issidhe tugadh tar
muir .i. brodchu garbh gruamdha
tugadh a hEspain 7 ara macgnimh-
arthaibh do mharbh Ciiculainn f,
H. 3. 18, p. 593, col. 2. Cf. W.
brathgi, Corn. braihkygX. molossns.
bruindim / spring. bruindit 36.
arsin brunnid bre6 di thein, LL.
145a, 40. aram-bruinnet (leg.
arm-br.) secht primsrotha, LL.
156a, 15.
biie origifial. 45. ambuce .i. nf
bunadach, buos each bunadach
d\diu, Corm. p. 4. cen brfg m-bi'ii,
LL. 278a, 27.
cad6in self. 35. Cf. cadessin.
cadle lovely. 11.
cdine f. beauty. 11. 14. 33.
cairnech m. priest. 65, 6. For
of an equal age, co-
dat. pi. comdisib 32.
coirnech ionsuredl Or is it Cair-
nech Cor/iishtnanl
cammag however. 63. cammai LU.
23b, 6. camai Wb. 3d, 8.
c6inmair happy/ 28. cenmair .i.
mongenar, Stowe voc. c^inmair
dotagnf, LBr. 261b, 78. With
following accusative : ceinmair
anmain dia n-dichet, LL. 286a, 26.
ceinmair tiiaith 7 cen^l, LU. 6ia,
39. Cf. Zimmer, KZ. 30, p. 26.
cenn-derg red-headed. 35.
cesu although. 43, 17.
cetad bedl dat. c^tud 47, 12.
cfa whither. 31. 74. See note on
p. 16.
cfa haze, hue. 9.
cille ? 48, 3.
com-ais m.
aetaneus.
W. cyfoes.
com-amre n. an equal wonder. 10.
com-gniiis f. aspect. 11.
i comocus do in the 7ieighbourhood of.
2. hi comfocus dont sl^ib sin,
LU. 22b, 3. W. cyfagos.
comrar f. chest, cist. 48, 12. dat.
comrair 48, 14.
conisoas learning, lore. 46, 2.
con-ligim / lie together, s-fut. sg. 3
conlee 51.
c6r chorus, dat. pi. c6rib 18. ace.
sg. canaid c6ir, F61. Oeng. xxxv.
27.
coraigecht surety, 59, 2. 9. 11. Ir.
Texte IL 2, p. 120. 126. cotisad
sldn d'inchaib a coraigechta-som,
LU. iisb, 38. Cf. Chron. Scot.
90. FM., A.D. 645.
daim. 43, 21. See note on p. 45.
GLOSSARY
93
deligthe distinguished, conspicuo7is.
42, 8. 56, 20. Salt. 41 12.
d^nta cultivated (of land). 9.
denus f. lit. the space of day ; a short
■while. Salt. Index. denus m-
beicc, Wb. 24d, 26. denass taid-
slantai, Tochm. Em. 142 (Rev.
Celt. XI., p. 452). gen. densa 50.
deserad the right hand. dat. de-
serud 47, 13.
diallait saddle. 68, 21.
dicheltir n. spear-shaft. 47, 16. 48, 9.
6xx\^z.<:^ fortresses, strongholds. 56.
diiiite f. simplicity, truth. 56, 8.
LL. 294a, 38. LBr. 261a, 43.
colom ar chendsa 7 diuiti, Book of
Fenagh, p. 308. diuide cride,
Stokes, Lives, 4543. Diiiidi ingen
Sldncridi, Rawl. B. 512, fo. 112b, 2.
Ao-f^mmx {\) I throw, dochuirethar
62. (2) / throw myself, I leap, do-
churethar 65. See Strachan, De-
ponent, p. 8, n. 2 ; p. 48, n. 1 ; p.
96.
do-fedaim / bring, dofed 3. Cf. im-
fedaim circumfero. Wind.
do-feith -will come. 16. 17. 20. 21.
See note on p. 38.
do-fil (with ace.) comes, approaches.
dosfil, with proleptic infixed pro-
noun referring to subject ; 43, 21.
84. 22.
do-snigim / shower, drop, dosnig
12. 22.
drcpa? 40. Sec note on p. 20.
drettel m. darling, favourite. 52.
dretel, Tog. Tr. 473. LL. 247a,
32. mac-dreittel, LL, 250b, 36.
dreittil, LL. 273b. dretlat, LU.
S2b, 37. Cf. tretel Wind, and W.
trythyll.
dubhartus a saying. 61, 33.
duis f. treasure, nom. pi. diissi pre-
cious things. 13. diisi ili drda airg-
dide, LL. 346b. a n-6rduse, LL.
54a. di 6rduisib, Tochm. Em. 14
(Rev. Celt. xi. p. 442). co n-diiisib
flatha, Rev. Celt. xvi. p. 67, 24.
e-c6ine f. wailing. 9 {BH).
6-c6iniud wailitig. 9.
e-comrass lit. not smooth ; rough. 37.
See note on p. 18.
eissiur / inquire, ask. ^issistar .i.
iarfaigis 56, 7. From 6iss track.
Cf. A.S. spyrigeau 'to inquire'
from spor ' track. '
er-becc very small. 47, 16.
er-chfan very long. 57, 3.
er-find very lohite. 22.
esnach chorus? 20. See note on p.
39-
etar-l^n great trouble, sorrow. 59.
Salt. 3764. LL. 172a, 44.
&-\.zX\ifresh7iess. gen. 6tatho 13. See
note on p. 38.
cthais adivit. 46. See Stokes, Urkelt.
Sprachschatz, p. 25.
ethe, pret. pass, of \j\, itum est. 48,
18. etha cu Fergne liaigh Conn,
Rev. Celt. iii. p. 344, 12. etha co
suidiu, ib. 345, 7. hatha huaidib
cossna trfch6iced aili, LU. 55a, 4.
(5-tol unwill. dat. (ituil 27. dtoil,
Goid. p. 182.
(5ul-chaire f. love of home, homesick-
ness. 63. See note on p. 41.
fdboll a going, journey ; time, 63.
fabhall .i. feacht n6 siubhal, O'Cl.
roldsat uili i n-ocnfabhull a slega
94
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
fair, Cath Catharda. i n-oenfecht 7
i n-oenfaball, ib.
falaiToigh pal/rey. 68, 20. Borrowed
fromM. Kngl. falefrai or O. French
palefrei.
fethal shape, dat. fethol 53.
fichim / vanquish, s-fut. sg. i : fes-
sa 43, 5. prat. sg. 3 : fich 43, 13.
Cf. fichi (leg. fichthe) in trdnfer,
Rev. Celt. xi. p. 448, 1.
find-hkn white-pale. 54.
find-chride n. a white {pure) heart.
28.
find-sruth a white stream ? 40.
fine f. vine. 43. F^l, Oeng. Index.
From Lat. vinea.
fithithir m. tutor. 57.
fo-gluaisim / move beyondl fugloisfe
48. But / disturb, disquiet, Y€\,.
Oeng. Index,
for-clechtaim / practise (a game).
forclechtat, 5.
forndisse telling. 48, 20.
for-oslaicim / release, redeem, for-
sulcad (forsluiced) 46, 15. Cf. er-
oslucad, Ffs Adamn. 2 (LBr.).
forosnaim / illumine, pres. ind. sg.
3 : forosna i5. If forosndi, the
reading of R (forosnai H), be
correct, the verb wavers between
the first and third conjugations,
like imfolngaim.
for-snigim / drop upon, forsnig 6. 12.
fris-benim (with ace. ) / strike against.
9-
fris-sellaini ^ look towaj-ds. 59.
frfthid II. See note on p. 38.
fross f. attack, dat. froiss 53.
gabra lir 36, gabra r6in 5, sea-horses.
See note on p. 4.
gadraigh 67, 33. 70, 21. From gadar
dog, or from gad withel
gairechtach laughing, dat. oc gaire-
chtaig 61.
garmnach a weaver s beam. 67, 31.
Cf. liathgarmnach.
geldod whiteness. 37.
ginach gaping} dat. ginig 61. See
note on p. 41.
glain crystal. 12. gea. glano 3. isind
noi glano, Echtra Condlai 7.
glas-muir n. the azure sea. 53. Rev.
Celt. xiii. 471. See O'Cl. s. v. glas-
mhagh.
gn6 beautiful, dat. gn6u 51. gnae .i.
s^gda, LU. 109a, 41. Corm. Tr. p.
8r, 5.
gnoe f. beauty. 42. gen. gnoe, 6.
graifnim (graibnim) / race, graibnid
23-
gv€na.n = gnankn sol lar, bower. 56, 19.
guas f danger, dat. i n-guais 42, 14.
43, 1. i n-giiais 7 gabud, LL.
115b.
idna range. 22.
il-dathach many-coloured. 24.
il-delbach many-shaped. 19.
im-borbach very luxuriantl 41.
im-chian very distant. 55. LL. 117b,
18. F61. Oeng. cxvii. 16.
im-chiiiin very gentle. 20. 21.
im-luid he went about. 2. immelotar,
Trip. Life, 346, 19. niconim-rul-
datar, Tui-. 2b.
immat plenty, dat. immut 34. 39.
imme-rdim / roio about, immerai ^t.
immeraad 61.
imrdl abtmdance. 36. Wb. 22c, 7.
ind-gas debility. 10. i n-ingas, Sergl.
Cone. 10.
GLOSSARY
95
indrad ridge. ace. pi. indrada 42.
See Wind. s.v. indra[d].
in-dron infirm. 23.
ind-ross a large forest, gen. (loca-
tive ?) indroiss 53.
in-fiadaim / relate, inf^ded 46, 2.
infessed 57, 2.
in-meldach very delightful. 41.
in-siubail able to go. 66, 26.
intamus? 53, 1.
ires meeting. gen. iressa 42, 10.
dobai hires (. i. comdal) leis do Gal-
laib, Tochm. Em. luid dochum a
irisi do Gallaib, ib. i nherus inalta,
LL. 58a, 33. i n-airis dala, LU.
75a, 15. i n-airius ddla, LU. 124b,
22.
isai whose is. 27. issa gl. quorum,
Ml. 90C, 3. Cf. asa, ata.
lergg f. battlefield! ace. pi. lergga 51.
liath-gharmnach grey and long as a
weaver's beam. 70, 20.
liiaithred n. ashes. 65. dogdna dub-
luaithriud dia corpaib, LBr. 2s8b,
62.
lumman f. sackcloth, gen. luimne 52,
20. 23. See Aisl, Meic. Congl. s.v.
hi lomaind in a sack, FM. vol. i. p.
480. odhurluimni liathglasa. Rev.
Celt. XV. p. 453, 4. ib. 6.
luth-lige n. a vigorous lying. 51 .
madra m. dog. 67, 32. See matia,
Aisl. Meic Congl. Index,
mithisse respite. 56, 8.
m6ith-greth soft-voiced. 8.
m6ithini / soften, mollify. m6ithfe 52.
men trick, feat, sport, gen. pi. Mag
Mon 14. mon .i. cles, LL. i86b,
39. Corm. p. 28.
niih fight. 54. Salt. Index, gen. in
nitho. Trip. Life, 92, 8. dat. isind
nfth so, LU. 74a, 37.
6igidecht hospitality. 53, 15.
6in-grinde 13. See note on p. 8, and
cf. Windisch s.v. grinne (i). cet-
grinnce gl. nectar, KZ. 33, p. 70.
rocaithfed sum c6tghrinne a fergi,
' he would expend the first paroxysm
of his rage,' Battle of Magh Rath,
p. 248, 24.
60I n. drinking. 13.
pun n. a pozmd. 53, 3. 8. 21. 22.
reraim (?) / range (?). reris 61, reras
43.8.
r6(i f. battlefield, ace. pi. r6i 55.
r6n m. a seal. 54. adba ron, Ir. Texte
III. p. 38.
sainigthe distingjiished. 43, 9.
sca.nd2.\n. fight. 48, 7. gen. im chum-
luth n-guscandail, Laws i. p. 174,
31.
sceota na n-aidhbhcadh ? 64, 10. 31.
selan rope. 67, 33. 70, 19.
sidan stream ? 59.
so-gnds f. noble cotnpany. ace. sog-
ndiss 52.
suirge wooing. 63, 17. Cf. suirgi .i.
suarcus, ut est :
' rof^;- suirgi saor ar seilg
ior mndi cain ccn mcirg cen mairg.'
H. 3. 18, p. 468.
taeb-trom big-bellied. 61, 3.
taircim I cofne. taircet 14. Cf. tair-
gcdh .1. teacht a coming onward,
96
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
p. OC. taircitis, Rev. Celt. xvi.
p. 68, 12.
tebugud ? 87, 20.
tess in the south. 5. 8.
tognam (*to-fo-gnam) service, help. 87,
12. Cf, tognamach.
t6ib-gel white-sided. 4. maccan Ethni
t6ebgile, Trip. Life, 480, 2.
tond-att n. •wave-swelling (Germ, wo-
getischwall). 4.
tonnach covering. 56, 18.
treftech /?(^, blast, ace. pi. treftecha
61. See note on p. 28.
tr^tach abounding in flocks. 87, 11. a
tfr tr^daig tairrngire, Silva Gad
201, 2i.
tretel, see drettel,
trisse a space of three days. 46, 15.
-tuinsed? 63.
7
ualann 15. See note on p. 38.
uirgill speech, utterance. 68, 29. Silva
Gad. 260, 24. For ur-fuigell.
urfoighioll, Moy Leana p. 44.
uirigill, O'Don. Suppl.
ule-glas all-blue. gen. sg. n. ule-
glais 15.
P^/
INDEX OF PERSONS
Aed Alaind, son of the King of Con-
naught, 68, 19. 25.
Aeddn mac Gabrain, King of • the
Scotch Dalriada ; 42, 3. 4. 6.
Artur fihus Bicoir ; 84, 18. 85, 17.
Baetan mac Mnrchertaig, father of
Fiachna Finn ; 58, 20.
Becc Boirche ; 84, 19.
Bicor, a Welshman ; 84, 18. 85, 17.
Bran mac Febail ; passim.
Brandub mac Echach, King of Lein-
ster ; 62, 9.
Brdothigernd, wife of MongAn ; 46, 14.
Brothar, a dog ; 67, 33.
Caillcch Dub ; 58, 29. 60, 33.
CAihe, the foster-son of Finn ; 48, 17.
19.
Cdintigern, wife of Fiachna ; 51. 86,
21.
Cairthide mac MarcAin, Mongan's
story-teller ; 56, 16.
Cammdn, mother of Dub Lacha ; 86,
18.
Ccibfn Cochlach ; 65, 2. 66, 29.
C(arAn mac int SAlr ; 56, 10.
Colgo ; 86, 20.
Collbran, father of Nechtdn ; 63. 65.
Coluni Cille ; 87, 4. 88, 2.
Conall ; 86, 20.
Conchobur ; 86, 5.
Cormac Caem ; 85, 3.
Cuimne ; 67, 31. C. Cullfath 70, 23.
in Dam ; 61, 4.
Deniman, father of Fiachna Dub ; 61,
8. 15. 30.
Dfarmait (mac Cerbaill or Cerrbe6il);
56, 12.
Dub-Lacha LAimgel, wife of Mon-
gan; 58, 16. 61, 9. 86, 18.
Eochaid Airgthech, see Fothad Airg-
dech.
Eogan mac N^ill ; 58, 21.
Eolgarg Mor mac Magair, King of
Norway ; 58, 23.
Fcdiimid ; 87, 5. 88, 18.
Fiachna, 5i = Ffachnng Lurga, 42, 2.
7. 43, 10. F. Lurgan, 84, 18. 85,
7 = Fiachna Find mac Bdetdin ; 58,
20. 59, 3. 61, 16.
Fiachna Dub mac Demmdin ; 61, 8.
15. 30.
Find mac Cumaill ; 45, 28. 48, 4. 5.
17. 19. 20.
Findtigcrnd, wife of Mongdn ; 56, 7.
Forgoll fili ; 46, 1. 6. 48, 2. 52, 16.
Fothad Airgdcch ; 45, 29. 46, 5. 47,
22. 48, 6. 12= Eochaid Airgthech,
48, 16.
98
THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
Ibhell Griiadsolus, daughter of the
king of Munster ; 68, 17. 26.
Illand mac Ffachach ; 85, 4,
Mac in Daim ; 61, 6. 63, 20. 30.
Magar, father of Eolgarg ; 58, 23.
Mananndn mac Lir ; 32. 36. 43, 18.
60, 23. 85, 20. Moninnan, 50. 57.
43, 23. Monann maccu Lirn, 51.
MarcAn, father of Cairthide ; 56, 16.
Mongan mac Ffachnai ; 32. 42, 2. 43,
3 etc., 85, 15. Mongdn Find mac
Ffachna Find, 60, 21. Mongan
mac Fiachna Lurgan, 84, 18. 85, 7.
Muiredach mac Eogain ; 58, 21.
Murchertach mac Muiredaig ; 58, 21.
Nechtdn mac Collbrain ; 63. 65.
R6ndn mac Tuathail ; 85, 8.
Tipraite, sacart Cille Camdin ; 64, 9.
18. 20, etc.
Tiiathal M4el-garb ; 56, 11.
INDEX OF PLACES AND TRIBES
Aircthech 12.
Albe f. Scotland, gen. Alban 5. dat.
Albe 42, 8. Albas 48, 6. Albain
42, 3. 63, 32.
Arada, ace. Aradu 47, 8.
Bendchor
86, 5.
Bcrbe the Barrow.
B6ard f. the Boyne.
10.
Bretain the Britons (Brythons).
Bretan 60, 32.
Bangor ; dat. Bendchur
dat. Berbi 47, 9.
dat. B6ind 47,
gen.
Carraic Eolairg, on Lough Foyle. 87
6. 9. 88, 27.
Cell Camdin ; 64, 5. 9.
Cend-Tire Cantire. 84, 22.
Ciiiin 13.
Cliiain Airthir 85, 1.
Cnocc Bane 53, 5.
Connacht Connatight. 68, 19. 25.
Dubthar Lagen 46, 6. 48, 1.
Duma Granerit 53, 6. 12.
Echuir (Nechuir?) 47, 9.
Emain 3.
Emne 10. 19.
'Eriu f. Ireland. 25. 63. 65.
Femen Muman 47, 9.
Ildathach 24.
'He Islay. 56. 84, 21.
Imchiviin 20. 21.
Inis Subai 61. 63.
Labrinne, a river in co. Kerry. 47, 2.
Laigin Leinster. gen. Lagen 46, 6.
48, 1. dat. Laignib 62, 8. 64, 5.
INDEX OF PLACES AND TRIBES 99
Lemuin, the river Laune, co. Kerry.
47. 7.
Linemag 49. See Mag Line.
Loch Febail Lougk Foyle. 88, 28, 89,
1.
Loch Ldu 59. See note on p. 41.
Lochlann Norway. 58, 22.
Machaire Cille Camdin i Laignib ;
64,5.
Mag Arggatn^l 8.
Mag Findarggat 5.
Mag Life ; 64, 4.
Mag Line ; 42, 9. 45, 30.
Mag Meld ; 39.
Mag Men ; 14. 23. 35.
Mag R^in ; 14.
Main, a river in co. Kerry. 47, 4.
Mumu f. Munster. gen. Muman 47, 9.
Nith, a river, 47, 10.
Olarbe, the Lame Water. dat.
Olarbi 47, IL Ollorbi 48, 7.
Pretene Britain. 84, 18. Borrowed
from Uperavia, W. Prydain,
Rig, the Newry river. 47, 11.
Rurthech f. the Liffey, dat. Rurthig
47,9.
Samair, the Morningstar river. 47, 8.
Saxain the Saxons, ace. Sa.xanu 42.
5. gen. Saxan 60, 32.
Senlabor ; dat. Senlabuir 58.
Sith Cnuicc Bdne ; 53, 11.
Sfth Lethet Oidni ; 53, 2. 7. 13,
Siuir the Suir ; 47, 8.
Srub Brain ; 64. See note on p. 32.
Sruthair Lethet Oidni ; 53, 8. 22.
Tfr inna m-Ban : 30. 60.
Tfr Tarngaire ; 87, 11. 88, 20.
Tend Clidna ; 85, 23.
TrAcht EothaiU Trawohelly, co.
Sligo ; 8s, 24.
Ui Fidgente ; 47, 8.
Ui N^ill ; 89, 2.
Ulaid Ulster ; gen. Ulad, 59, 4, etc.
THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN THE MYTHICO-
ROMANTIC LITERATURE OF THE IRISH.
THE CELTIC DOCTRINE OF RE-BIRTH.
AN ESSAY IN TWO SECTIONS
BY ALFRED NUTT
SECTION I
THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
TO THE MEMORY OF
EUSEBY D. CLEAVER and JAMES KEEGAN
PREFACE
In the first two chapters of this investigation its purport and
scope are set forth, I trust, with sufficient fulness and clearness.
But a few words may be advisable concerning my method of
presenting and discussing the facts which are here, for the
first time, laid before the English reader. There exists no
history of Irish literature ; but little of the preliminary work
of research has been accomplished, and that little is mainly
the work of one or two men, and lacks the sanction of a
general consensus of expert approval. The student of any
aspect of Irish antiquity must thus form his own theory as to
the date and mutual relation of the literary monuments
whence our knowledge of that antiquity is derived. The
prominence of literary-historical criticism in the following
pages was thus inevitable, and may, I trust, be imputed to me
rather as a virtue than a defect. If for no other reason my
studies may claim some consideration as a contribution,
however small, to the ' Vorarbeiten ' for a history of Irish
legend and romance.
When an authoritative account of the growth of Irish
literature is lacking, when a layman, like the present writer,
has to frame working hypotheses for himself, his results must
necessarily be tentative. Far from minimising, I would rather
emphasise the hypothetical nature of these studies. I can,
io6 THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
however, assert that I have used some diligence in collecting
illustrative material, and such skill as I possess in discussing
its significance. I may at least hope that, in bringing to the
notice of Irish and English students facts and theories novel
to many of them, I am making straight the way for more
fruitful study.
In the Irish portion of my work I have followed largely in
the footsteps of Professor Heinrich Zimmer, and of Mons. H.
d'Arbois de Jubainville, both of whom had previously collected
and discussed the larger part of the literary material. Such
additions as I have been able to make are from the various
translations of Irish texts issued by Mr. Whitley Stokes —
thanks chiefly to whose labours it is that an Englishman can
form a fair idea of early Irish literature — by Professor Kuno
Meyer, and by Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady. To Professor
Kuno Meyer I owe a special debt of gratitude both for
permitting me to be associated with him in the present work,
and for invaluable assistance freely granted whilst my pages
were passing through the press.
In literary -critical questions I have chiefly relied upon
Professor Heinrich Zimmer. I have so often expressed my
admiration for the work of this brilliant scholar, as well as my
strong dissent from many of his conclusions, that I need here
only urge such of my readers as are desirous of making a
serious study of Celtic antiquity to acquaint themselves at
first hand with his investigations.
In the non-Irish portions of my work my task has been so
greatly facilitated by the labours of two German scholars,
Erwin Rohde and Albert Dietrich, as to require special
acknowledgment. The recently published works of L.
Schurmann, H. Oldenberg, Paul Foucart, and Ernest Maas,
have also been of the greatest assistance to me.
PREFACE 107
My position is that of a layman setting forth, co-ordinating,
and discussing, the results arrived at by experts. But although
chiefly dependent upon the labours of others for my facts, I have
endeavoured to test and to control every theory based upon
them, no matter how eminent its author might be, nor have I
hesitated to withhold assent where my judgment refused it.
In certain cases, being wholly incompetent, I have had to
accept statements, and deductions from these statements,
upon authority the best I could command, but as a rule I
have verified every fact with such diligence, I have tested
every hypothesis with such critical acumen, as I possessed. I
have had to express disagreement with scholars of the first
rank, but in no case, I trust, rashly or presumptuously. And
I am sure every true scholar will forgive me for disregarding
authority, however weighty, when it conflicted with results at
which I had arrived after long and anxious deliberation.
I have to thank Miss Margaret Stokes and my friend Mr.
Jacobs for reading some of the proofs of this study, and for
many valuable suggestions.
I have dedicated these pages to the memory of two men,
neither of whom I knew personally, but from both of whom
I have received, during many years, most valued advice
and encouragement. There is, I venture to think, some
appropriateness in this dedication. Both were impassioned
lovers of Gaelic lore and letters ; both again were priests
of the Christian Church, one an Anglican, one a Roman.
It is fitting that this essay to trace the origin and record
the growth of conceptions, partly pagan, partly Chris-
tian, the preservation of which is so largely due to the
tolerance of Irish Christianity and to the love of its ministers
for the legendary past of their race, should be hallowed by
the names of men, worthy followers of the cleric scholars.
io8 THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
antiquaries, and bards, to whom we owe the compilation
and transmission of early Irish literature.^
I append a list of the works I quote in an abbreviated
form. Other references are given with sufficient fulness to
enable identification of the works cited. Roman numerals
immediately following the title indicate the page. I have
essayed to make my references full enough to enable any
student to follow and verify my statements and deductions.
ALFRED NUTT.
^ My dedication was decided upon, and the whole of the present
volume, including the preface, was drafted before my friend Dr. Hyde's
Story of Early Gaelic Literature came into my hands. Dr. Hyde's
dedication is the same as mine ; here and there, opinions which I have
expressed receive the support of his authority. I cannot but congratulate
myself upon the undesigned coincidence.
LIST OF WORKS QUOTED IN AN ABBREVIATED
FORM
ZiMMER. All references to Professor Zimmer, without other
mention, are to his article entitled : Keltische Beitriige, II. :
Breiidaiis Mecrfa]Lrt, contained in the Zeitschrift fiir
deutsches Alterthum. Vol. xxxiii., Heft 2, 3, 4. Berlin,
1889.
Zimmer, LU. The reference is to Keltische Studicn V. : Ucbcr
dem compilatoriscJmi Charaktcr dcr irischen Sagcntexte
tm sogeiinanten Lebor tia h-Uidhre. Zeitschrift fiir ver-
gleichende Sprachforschung. Vol. xxviii., Heft 5, 6.
Giitersloh, 1887.
RC. Revue Celtique. Vols, i.-xvi. i, 2. Paris, 1869-1895.
MC. On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish. A
series of Lectures by E. O'Curry. 3 vols. London, 1873.
Ms, Mat. Lectures on the Materials of Ancient Irish History.
By Eugene O'Curry. Dublin, 1861.
SiLVA Gad. Silva Gadelica (i.-xxxi.). A collection of Tales in
Irish, with extracts illustrating Persons and Places.
Edited from MSS. and translated by Standish H(ayes)
O'Grady. 2 vols. London, 1891.
Keating. The History of Ireland from the earliest period to
the English Invasion. Translated by John O'Mahony.
New York, 1866.
Four Masters. Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland by the
Four Masters. Edited by John O'Donovan. 7 vols. 4to.
Dublin, 185 1.
Oss. Soc. Transactions of the Ossianic Society. Vols, i.-vi.
Dublin, 1854-61.
Waifs and Strays. Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition.
Argyllshire series. Vols. i.-v. London, 1889-95.
Folk Lore. A Quarterly Review of Myth, Tradition, Custom
and Institution. Vols, i.-vi. i, 2. London, 1890-95.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
THE HISTORICAL AND LITERARY-HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
TO bran's voyage
PAGE
Scope and purport of the investigation — Introductory sketch of Irish
history as presented in the hteratui'e— Pre-Milesian, Milesian and
Heroic periods — Post-Heroic pre-Christian period— Introduction
of Christianity — Sixth and seventh century hterature — Viking
period — Renaissance of Irish hterature — MS. tradition and hn-
guistic evidence of date — Christian element in the Heroic sagas
— Influence of the Viking period upon Irish story-telling — Irish
mythological cycle — Critical principles to be followed, . . 115
CHAPTER II
THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN
bran's VOYAGE
The Voyage of Bran, constituent elements and leading conceptions —
The Happy Otherworld — The Doctrine of Rebirth — Aims and
Method of the investigation — Linguistic evidence as to the age
of Bran's Voyage — Historical evidence on the same point — The
Mongan episode — Testimonia to Mongan — Discussion of the
historical evidence — Evidence drawn from Latin loan words in the
Irish text — Summing up of the Happy Otherworld conception as
found in Bran's Voyage, ........ 133
110
CONTENTS III
CHAPTER III
THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN
PARALLEL TALES OF A MYTHIC CHARACTER
PAGE
Parallel tales : {a) Echtra Condla or the Adventures of Connla,
summary of the story, discussion of its date, comparison with
Bran's Voyage — [b) Oisin in the Land of Youth, summary of the
story, discussion of its date — {c) Cuchulinn's Sick Bed, summary
of the story, discussion of date, comparison with Bran and
Connla, 144
CHAPTER IV
EARLY ROMANTIC USE OF THE CONCEPTION OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD
The imraina or Oversea Voyage literature — The Navigatio S. Bren-
dan!— The Voyage of Maelduin — Professor Zimmer's views con-
cerning the development of this literature — The points of contact
between Maelduin and Bran : {a) the wonderland of the amorous
queen ; {b') the island of imitation— Summary of these episodes in
Maelduin, comparison with Bran, discussion of relation between
the two works — The portion common to both works independent
of each other, similarity due to use of the same material —
Features common to all the stories hitherto considered, . . 161
CHAPTER V
THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
AS THE god's land
The wonderland of the hollow hill — The home of the Tuatha de
Danann — The Tochmarc Etaine, or Wooing of Etain, summary
of story — The relation of the Hollow Hill to the Oversea Elysium
— Exposition and criticism of Professor Zimmer's views — Lae-
gaire mac Crimthainn's Visit to Faery, summary of story,
discussion of date, modification of older conceptions, possible
influence of Scandinavian Walhalla 174
112 THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
CHAPTER VI
LATER DIDACTIC AND ROMANTIC USE OF THE CON-
CEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
PAGE
Didactic use of the Otherworld conception — Baile an Scail (the
Champion's Ecstasy), summary and discussion of story — Cormac
mac Art in Faery, summary and discussion of story — The
Happy Otherworld in the Ossianic cycle — The Tonn Clidna
episode of the Agallamh na Senorach, comparison with the
dinnshe7ichas of Tonn Clidna and Tuag Inbir — The Behind
episode in the Agallamh na Senorach — The attribute of gigantic
stature in the Ossianic cycle — The Adventures of Teigue, son of
Cian, summary and discussion of story — The Vision of Mac
Conglinne i86
CHAPTER VII
FRAGMENTARY INDEPENDENT PRESENTMENTS OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD CONCEPTION
The Echtra Nerai (Nera's Expedition into the Otherworld) — The
Tain b6 Regamna (the Raid of Regamna's Kine) — Angus of the
Brugh and the Conquest of the Sid. The dinnshcnchas of
Mag m-Breg — The dinnshcnchas of Sinann — The dinnshcnchas
of Boann — The dinnshcnchas of Loch Carman— The di?in-
shcnchas of Sliab Fuait — The dinfishenchas of Findloch Cera, . 209
CHAPTER VIII
THE IRISH VISION OF THE CHRISTIAN HEAVEN
The Fis Adamnain (Addmnan's Vision), summary and discussion —
The Tidings of Doomsday — The fourfold division of the Irish
Christian future world — Professor Zimmer's explanation of the
term //r tairngiri 219
CONTENTS 113
CHAPTER IX
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN
IRISH LEGEND
PAGE
The two types, their relation — The inirama literature — Relation to
Christian literature — Modifications due to the Renaissance period
— Post Renaissance development — Didactic and free romantic
tendency — Conclusion : inadequacy of the hypothesis of sole
Christian origin for stories of the Bran type, .... 229
CHAPTER X
NON-IRISH CHRISTIAN AND JEWISH ANALOGUES OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD
The Phoenix episode in Maelduin — The Anglo-Saxon Phoenix cited
and discussed — The Christian Apocalypses : the Revelation of St.
John, the Revelation of Peter, the Visio Pauli, the Vision of
Saturus, Barlaam, and Josaphat — The second Sibylline — The lost
Ten Tribes — The Book of Enoch — Relation of Christian to
Classic eschatology, ' 238
CHAPTER XI
CLASSIC ACCOUNTS OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
Homer — Rohdc's view of the Homeric Hades and of the development
of the Elysium conception in Greece ; ol>jections thereto — Hesiod
— Early mythical allusions — Pindar — The Periclcan age — Varying
accounts of Elysium as outerworld and underworld — Romantic
and didactic use of the conceptions, Hyperboreans, later localisa-
tion of the marvel land in India — Lucian — Greek the main source
of Christian eschatological descriptions — Parallel between Greek
and Irish Elysium romance - Roman development of (ircek
l)clief— Serlorius and St. Brandan — Horace— Clauili.in—'iiie
H
114 THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
PAGE
Vergilian Utopia and Elysium — Summary of classic development
of the conception — Irish account related to earlier stage — The free
love element in the Irish accounts — The chastity ideal in Classic
literature — Parallel of the formal mythological elements in Greek
and Irish literature, 258
CHAPTER XII
SCANDINAVIAN, IRANIAN, AND INDIAN ACCOUNTS OF
THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
Scandinavian mythical literature, date and relation to Classic and
Christian literature — Prominence of eschatological element in the
official mythology — Visions of the Happy Otherworld in later
romantic literatm-e : Eric the far-travelled ; Helge Thoreson ;
Thorkill and Guthorm ; Hadding — Rydberg's theory of
Odainsakr — Iranian myth of Yima's grove — Iranian accounts
of Paradise and Heaven — Darmesteter on date and composition
of the Avesta — Vedic accounts — Post-Vedic Indian mediaeval
accounts — Oldenberg on the Indian heaven— Chronological view
of the Happy Otherworld conception in the literatm-e of the
Aryan race ; problems raised thereby ; necessity of studying the
reincarnation conception before concluding, .... 295
Index, 332
END OF SECTION I
CHAPTER I
THE HISTORICAL AND LITERARY-HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
TO bran's voyage
Scope and purport of the investigation — Introductory sketch of Irish history
as presented in the literature — Pre-Milesian, Milesian, and Heroic periods
— Post-Heroic, pre-Christian period — Introduction of Christianity — Sixth
and seventh century Hterature — Viking period — Renaissance of Irish
literature — MS. tradition and linguistic evidence of date— Christian
element in the Heroic sagas — Influence of the Viking period upon Irish
story-telling — Irish mythological cycle — Critical principles to be followed.
I PURPOSE in the following pages to discuss the origin, de-
velopment, and nature of the old Irish story printed and
translated into English for the first time in this volume. I
think it advisable to preface my examination of the story by
some general considerations upon early Irish literature.
My investigation is based upon texts which cannot be later
than the eleventh century of our era, and may be as early
as the eighth or seventh century, in the form under which
their substance has come down to us. They are the product
of the belief and fancy of the Irish race during the period
lying between these two dates at all events. Possibly, nay
probably, they derive from a far earlier period. They are
also the result of historical conditions and influences to
which the Irish race was subject, down to the eleventh
century at the latest. They form part of an extensive litera-
115
ii6 PRE-MILESIAN PERIOD
ture, preserved to later ages under conditions which yield
useful clews to its origin, nature, and mode of development.
It will be desirable, at the outset, to briefly indicate the his-
torical background to this literature, as well as the critical
problems involved in the consideration of its extant forms.
The traditional annals of the Irish race, the main outlines of
which were fixed by the eleventh century at the very latest,
offer a convenient framework for this preliminary sketch of
Irish history and literary history.^
Pre-Milesian Period.
The Irish annals start the history of the country with a series
of immigrations or invasions, resulting in wars between the
various invading races, and in the final dominance of the sons
of Mil over Ireland. The version of this series of events
which has come down to us is certainly as old as the early
eleventh century ; its main outlines are presupposed or de-
finitely indicated in poems of the tenth century, and a large
portion was known to the South Welsh chronicler, Nennius,
writing at the close of the eighth century.^ In this, the oldest
^ The great seventeenth century compilation, the Annals of the Four
Masters, gathers up all that seemed most valuable and most trustworthy
in the older Annals to Michael O'Clery and his fellows. But it has the
disadvantage for a student of mythic and heroic saga of following the line
of the High Kings of Ireland, and neglecting the provincial Kings. It
thus happens that some of the oldest and most extensive cycles of heroic
saga which have left their impress most deeply on Irish literature are
almost unrepresented by the Four Masters, because they centre around
provincial kings. In this respect Keating's History of Ireland, a com-
pilation of the same period, is of far more value. Keating loved romance
and a stirring tale.
" Cf. Zimmer, Nennius vindicatus, Berlin, 1893, PP- 216 c/ scq. Or in
the middle of the ninth century if Prof. Thurneysen's View (Zcit. f.
deutsche Philologie, xxviii. ) be preferred.
MILESIAN AND HEROIC PERIOD 117
dated form, we can discern signs of Biblical and classic
influence. If the traditions belong, in the main, to a period
anterior to the contact of Ireland with Christian-classic culture,
they have, nevertheless, been modified and added to as a result
of that contact. As a whole, these traditions wear a marked
mythical aspect ; it was dimly perceived in the tenth and
eleventh centuries, and has been contended with increasing
definiteness from that time to the present day, that they con-
tain the pre-Christian mythology of the Irish, cast in a pseudo-
historic mould, and adapted to the exigencies of Biblical and
classic chronology. The most authoritative exposition of this
contention is that of M. d'iVrbois de Jubainville in his Cycle
Mythologiqne Irlandais (Paris, 1884); it holds the field at
present, but it cannot be said to be established beyond cavil.
The present investigation may, it is hoped, form a contribution,
definite if small, towards the final settlement of the questions
connected with the mythological traditions of Ireland.
Milesian and Heroic Period.
After the establishment of the sons of Mil in Ireland the
annals mention a number of events, of which little trace can
be found in subsequent tradition, until we come to the stories
relating to the foundation of Emania, the chief centre of Ulster
for many centuries, by the Amazon Macha, assigned to the fifth
century before Christ.^ It is noteworthy that the most critical
and learned of the Irish scholars of the tenth and eleventh
centuries, to whom we owe the extant annals, Tigernach,
looks upon the Mojiumenta Scotorum, previous to this date, as
'■incerta.' From this time onwards we meet personages who form
the centre of small cycles of story-telling, thus Loegaire Lore
^ Keating, 245 ; MS. Mat. 527 (translating from a prose story in the
Book of Leinster, which is based upon a poem of Eochaid hua P'iainn).
ii8 MILESIAN AND HEROIC PERIOD
(a.m. 4608), Labraid Loingsech ^ (a.m. 4667), until we come
down to the period immediately preceding and coinciding
with the life of Christ. Connaire Mor, high king of Ireland
at this time, is the subject of the famous story entitled ' Togail
Bruidne da Derga,' the destruction of Da Derga's fort, in
which his death at the hands of oversea pirates is described.-
But the story-telling connected with this period is chiefly
concerned with Conchobor Mac Nessa, king of Ulster, and
his champions, pre-eminent among whom is Cuchulinn,/<?r-
tissinms heros Scotorum^ as Tigernach styles him, the greatest
heroic figure Gaelic imagination has produced, and one not
unworthy to be placed by the side of Rustum and Perseus, of
Sigfried and Dietrich. His exploits and those of his peers
form the Ultonian cycle, the most considerable and valuable
monument of Irish heroic romance.^ The Ulster heroes are
^ Keating, 250-257 ; MS. Mat. 282 ; MC. ii. 256. It may be necessary
to state that the Irish annalists followed the Septuagint chronology.
2 Summarised by Zimmer, LU. 554-58S ; cf. MC. iii. 136-150. An
edition, with translation by Hennessy, was left unfinished at his death. I
have a set of the proof-sheets.
^ The Tain bo Ctiailgne, the chief text of the Ultonian cycle, is
summarised by Zimmer, LU. 442-475 ; cf. MC. ii. passim. The Conipert
C, or C.'s Conception, has been edited and translated by M. L. Duvau,
R. C. ix. ; the Mesca Ulad, or Intoxication of the Ultonians, in which C.
plays a prominent part, has been edited and translated by Hennessy, Todd
Lectures, ii. ; the Tochmarc Emcre, or C.'s Wooing of Emer, has been
translated by Professor Kuno Meyer (the vulgate version, Arch. Review, i. ;
the older, shorter version, R. C. xi. ) ; the Serglige C, or C.'s Sick Bed,
has been edited and translated by O'Curry, Atlantis, ii. iii. ; C.'s Death
Scene has been edited and translated by Mr. Whitley Stokes, R. C. iii. ;
the Fight of C. and Ferdiad at the Ford, the culminating episode of the
Tain b6 Cuailgne, has been translated by O'Curry, MC. iii. 416-463.
For the general reader, the best idea of the scope and tone of the
Ultonian cycle may be obtained from Mr. Standish O'Grady's History of
Ireland : Heroic Period.
POST-HEROIC PRE-CHRISTIAN PERIOD 119
the earliest, assuming the correctness of the annalistic chrono-
logy, who still live in popular tradition; about Cuchulinn
himself, about Conall Cernach, and about the sons of Usnech,
stories are told to this day by the Gaelic peasants of Ireland
and Scotland.^ From this date onward, however, the pre-
servation, not only of small episodes, but of well-defined
cycles, by the folk-memory, is of frequent occurrence. An-
other point should be noted. In the Connaire Mor, in
the Ultonian, and in several later cycles, personages of the
mythological cycle to whom the annals have assigned a
definite date and a quasi-historical aspect, appear as frankly
supernatural beings.
Post-Heroic Pre-Christian Period.
In the first century a.d,, Tuathal Techtmar, high king of
Ireland, is the hero and starting-point of the considerable
body of historic romance connected with the imposition of
the Boroma tribute upon Leinster, the struggles of that pro-
vince to be rid of it, and its final abrogation in the reign of
Finachta at the end of the seventh century.- In the second
century, Conn, the Hundred-fighter, is the centre of an ex-
tensive cycle, dealing mainly with his wars against Mog
Nuadat of Munster, and the consequent partition of Ireland
1 A contemporary oral version of the Tain bo Citailgne, as current in
Inverness-shire, Celtic Magazine, xiii. ; Conall Cernach's Vengeance
upon Cuchulinn's Slayers forms the subject of numerous ballads, cf. Leab
na Feinne, 15; an admirable oral version of the Fate of the Sons of
Usnech was printed by Mr. A. Carmichael, from recitation in the High-
lands, in the Celtic Magazine, xiii., whence it has been reprinted with slight
changes in Mr. Jacobs' Celtic Fairy Tales.
2 The Boroma has been edited and translated twice, (i) by Mr. Whitley
Stokes, R. C. xiii., (2) by Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady, Silva Gadelica,
401-424. Cf. my remarks, Folk-Lorc, iii. 373.
\
I20 POST-HEROIC PERIOD
into two portions known as Leth Moga and Letli Ciiinn. The
sons of both these kings, Art of North Ireland, AiHll Olum
of South Ireland, are also centres of heroic cycles, which
coalesce in the stories about the battle of Mag Muccrima
(a.d. 195, according to the ' Four Masters '), stories which still
live on as folk-tales in Ireland and Scotland.^ The third
generation is again famous in romance : Tadg, son of Cian,
son of Ailill Olum, being the hero of a number of stories,
one of which we shall discuss later at some length {infra,
pp. 201-208), whilst Cormac, son of Art, is after Conchobor of
Ulster, the most famous king of Irish heroic legend. The
stories concerning his outcast youth and the recovery of his
father's heritage are living folk-tales to this day.^ Gormac is
connected too in the annals with the second great cycle of
Gaelic heroic romance, that which centres around Finn, son of
Gumal, his son Oisin, his grandson Oscar, and the warriors
GoU, Diarmait, and Cailte, as Finn marries Cormac's daughter,
Grainne, and it is Cormac's son, Cairbre, who destroys the
Fianna at the battle of Gabra (a.d. 284, according to the
' Four Masters '), being himself slain there.^
Christian Legendary Period.
The next considerable body of story-telling centres around
1 The Battle of Mag Muccrima has been edited and translated by
Mr. Whitley Stokes, R. C. xiii., and Mr. S. H. O'Grady, Silva Gad.,
347. For the contemporary folk-tales, cf. my Aryan Expulsion and
Return formula among the Celts, Folk-Lore Record, iv.
^ A useful summary of the Cormac stories may be found in Kennedy's
Bardic Stories, 64 ; for the contemporary folk-tales, cf. my article Folk-
Lore Record, iv.
^ A poem on the battle of Gabra has been preserved by the twelfth
century Book of Leinster, whence it has been edited and translated by
O'Curry, Oss. Soc. i. 50.
CHRISTIAN LEGENDARY PERIOD 121
Eochaid Mugmedoin,^ his son Niall of the nine hostages, and
his grandson Conall Gulban, from the second half of the
fourth to the middle of the fifth centmy.2 With Niall we touch
firm historical ground, and it is in the reign of his son Laegaire
that Patrick's mission to Ireland takes place. But the
introduction of Christianity into Ireland is far older than
Patrick, The close connection between South Ireland and
South-west Britain, due to Irish settlements along the coasts
of the Severn sea, and possibly to the continued existence of
a Goidelic population in South Wales, had probably brought
the knowledge of Christianity into Leth Moga as early as the
middle of the fourth century, and Patrick must be looked
upon as the apostle of North and Western Ireland rather than
of the island as a whole. But the official reception of
Christianity by the Irish dates from his lifetime, and although
Paganism lingered on for many years after his death, especially
in the West, and probably supplied the motive power of
events and movements, the bare mention of which is all we
find in the annals, the vital energies of the race are hence-
forth turned into a new channel and hasten to take possession
of the culture which the alien religion brought with it. In
the next three centuries (6th, 7th, and 8th) the main interest
of Irish history lies in the efforts of the Irish race to organise
Christianity within and propagate it outside Ireland, and in
the manifestation of the effect produced upon the Irish world
by the revelation of Romano-Greek culture. But stories of
the same nature as those told of the pre-Christian kings
continue to be told of their Christian successors. This is the
1 Cf. Silva Gadelica, 368. -
' Conall Gulban is better known from the living; folk-tale than from older
texts. Cf. Campbell, I'opular Tales, iii., and my article Folk-Lorc
Record, iv.
122 CHRISTIAN LEGENDARY PERIOD
case with Muirchertach ( + 527),! with Diarmait, son of
Cerball ( + 558),2 with Aed, son of Ainmire ( + 594),=^ all high
kings of Ireland, with Aed Slane, killed 600 a.d.,* with
Mongan, son of Fiachna, an Ulster chief slain 620 a.d.,^ with
the Connaught kings Guaire*^ and Ragallach/ both of the
^ Four Masters, 173; MS. Mat. 599.
2 Four Masters, 193 ; Keating, 421 ; Silva Gad., see Life of St.
Molasius/a;^5?V/;, and also 74; MC. ii. 335-337) iii- I93-I94-
3 P^our Masters, 216, 219; Keating, 446-465; MC. ii. 337-341 ; Silva
Gad., 407-428.
■* The very remarkable story concerning the birth of Aed Slane has
been edited and translated into German by Professor Windisch, Berichte
d. phil. hist. Classe d. Kg. Sachs. Ges. d. Wissenschaft, 1884 ; edited
with English version in Silva Gad., 88. I have summarised and com-
mented upon the story, Folk-Lore, iii. 44.
s Supra, pp. 52-86. :
^ Keating, 434-442. [K. has antedated this king by some seventy years,
if the ordinary annalistic chronology be followed, a mistake of the same
kind as that in the text, entitled Mongan's Frenzy, supra, p. 57, which
antedates Mongan in the same way. The mistake has arisen apparently
by confusion between Diarmait, son of Cerball, whose death is assigned
by the annals to the year 588, and Diarmait, son of Aed Slane, who
reigned according to the Four Masters from 657 to 664. This Diarmait,
with the nickname ruanaidh, figures as Guaire's contemporary and
antagonist in the fragmentary annals, translated, Silva Gad., 424 et
seq., from a late fifteenth century MS. The confusion noted above was
facilitated by the fact that Ireland was desolated by the yellow plague at
an interval of a little over a hundred years, each time in the reign of a
Diarmait]. Silva Gad., the fragmentary annals just cited; these are
probably a product of the twelfth century. A fairly good summary of the
stories about Guaire may be found in Kennedy, Bardic Stories of Ireland,
188 et seq. Kennedy follows Keating in placing him in the sixth,
instead of in the seventh century.
^ Silva Gadelica, the already cited fragmentary annals. R. is the hero
of as early an example of the folk-tale theme of the father who wished to
marry his daughter as any known in post-classic European literature. I
have cited and briefly commented upon this story in Miss Cox's Cinderella.
CHRISTIAN LEGENDARY PERIOD 123
•seventh century, and with Domnall, son of Aed, son of
Ainmire, who won in the year 634 the battle of Mag Rath,
which forms the subject of one of the most considerable
Irish historic romances extant.^ It should be noted, however,
that although these involve, as already stated, marvellous
elements to fully as great an extent as ia the case of the
pre-Christian kings, yet the machinery is nominally Christian,
some benefit or injury done to a saint being generally the
originating cause of the events narrated in the story. It
should further be noted that a series of tales connected with
Guaire of Connaught and Senchan Torpeist, chief of the
bardic community, relate to the recovery of the Tain bb
Cuailgne, the most considerable monument of the Ultonian
cycle.-
Viking and Renaissance Periods.
As compared with the seventh century, which is extremely
rich in tales, and in tales of a most varied character, the
1 Edited and translated by J. O'Donovan, 1852. O'D. assigns the tale,
in the form under which it has come down to us, to the latter part of the
twelfth century.
2 The story is extant in two forms : {a) unaffected by Christianity ;
represented by an episode of the story preserved in Cormac's glossary,
sub voce PruU. I have cited and commented upon this very remarkable
tale, which goes back to the ninth century. Waifs and Strays of Celtic
Tradition, ii. 467 ; {b) a Christianised version preserved in the Book of
Lismore, a fifteenth century MS., whence it has been edited and translated,
Ossianic Society, v. Mons. d'Arbois de Jubainville was the first to point
out the foregoing facts, cf. R. C. viii. 533. Professor Zimmer has also
discussed them with his usual searching thoroughness, LU. 426-440,
cf. Waifs and Strays, ii. 466. It may be worth noting that the Christian-
ised version betrays the same confusion respecting the date of Guaire as
the fragmentary annals translated, Silva Gadelica, 424 et seq.
124 VIKING AND RENAISSANCE PERIODS
eighth century annals are meagre in the extreme.^ At the end
of the eighth century the Viking inroads begin, and for the
next century and a half the annals of Ireland are a monotonous
record of raid and massacre, of destruction of the older seats
of culture, of dispersal of mss. and scholars.^ Learning is kept
alive in South rather than in North Ireland. In the second half
of the ninth century flourishes Cormac, king and archbishop of
Cashel, to whom is ascribed, among other works, a glossary
intended to facilitate the intelligence of older works. ^ This
still survives and testifies to the existence at that time of tales
which we still possess and of others now lost. In the tenth
century the Danes, hitherto Pagan, embraced Christianity,
after which the relations between them and the Irish are
closer and more friendly, and in the late tenth century
the rise of the Munster family of Brian, the victor in the
battle of Clontarf, marks the close of the Viking period and
the opening of a period of a hundred and fifty years, during
^ In spite of the fact that authentic historical material becomes more
plentiful with each century, the space devoted by the Four Masters to
the eighth century is only about half more than that given to the sixth or
the seventh century. The Fragments of Annals, copied by Duald Mac
Firbis from older mss. in the seventeenth century, edited and translated
by J. O'Donovan in iS6o, afford most instructive examples of the kind of
romantic historic tales connected with the sixth and seventh century
kings. It seems no unreasonable conjecture that conflict between the new
faith and the older pagan order of things, lasting well on into the seventh
century, suppHed those conditions of strife and shock which are always
chiefly instrumental in originating historic saga.
2 As Miss Stokes points out to me, the testimony of the annals is not
borne out by archseological evidence. Architecture and other arts made
progress in Jiis period.
3 Edited and translated by J. O'Donovan and Whitley Stokes, Calcutta,
lS66. Cf. also Mr- Whitley Stokes' edition of the Bodleian fragment,
Trans, of the Plrik Soc, 1891-92.
MS. TRADITION 125
which Irish letters and scholarship revive, the traditions of the
race are collected and systematised, and Irish literature as we
now possess it takes shape. Prominent among the promoters
of this revival are Eochaid hua Flanin ( + 984), Cinaeth hua
Artacain ( + 975), Cuan hua Lochain ( + 1024), Flann Manis-
trech (+1056), Gilla Caemain (+1072), and Tigernach
(4-10S8).
MS. Tradition of Irish Literature.
How are the writings of these men, how are the tales and
heroic sagas, to which allusion has been made, preserved to us ?
In Mss. of the eleventh and following centuries. Now it may
be taken for certain that no portion of Irish literature was
written down prior to the introduction of Christianity into
Ireland. A vigorous and elaborate system of oral tradition
may, nay, most probably, must have prevailed, but the written
text, rigidly conservative in one direction, opening the door in
another to all sorts of corruptions and confusions, cannot have
existed. There is, however, no reason in the nature of things
why the tales and traditions which profess to deal with the
history of Ireland prior to Patrick's mission should not have
been written down in the sixth century. On the other hand,
there is no reason for assigning eleventh century texts to an
earlier period, simply because they relate still earlier events.
Examination of the majority of these texts discloses the fact
that if they belong originally to the pre-Viking invasions period
they must in their present eleventh century shape have been
added to and modified, as allusions are not infrequent to
scenes, personages, and events of which Ireland was ignorant
before the year 800. But further examination of the language
rather than of the subject-matter of these texts also shows
that many of them must have existed long before the date of
their transcripliun in the mss. wc possess. In the first place,
126 MS. TRADITION
they are frequently glossed, as is the case with ' Bran's Voy-
age,' showing that the eleventh-century scribe felt the need of
explaining his text, which could not happen if he were its
author ; in the second place, the language presents frequent
traces of having once been written in Old-Irish and not in
Middle-Irish, as would be the case if the stories had been
composed in the eleventh century. In the third place, the
scribes of our mss. profess to copy from much older ones ;
little weight, however, could be attached to this assertion if it
were not borne out by the linguistic evidence. Unfortunately
this does not carry us so far, nor is it as definite as could be
wished. We possess considerable remains of Old-Irish in
seventh and eighth century glosses upon biblical and classic
writers, and when scholars assert that an eleventh-century text
was once written in as old a form of Irish as that exhibited by
the glosses, we may be confident that it did exist some time
before the year 800.^ But how long before ? The historical
study of the Irish language has not as yet progressed far
enough to decide with any degree of precision.
Nor does the fact that one eleventh-century text betrays its
original Old-Irish form,whilst another one does not, necessarily
imply that the latter is the younger. The criticism of lan-
guage must be supplemented by that of subject-matter before
any such conclusion can be reached. With the exception of
Mons. d'Arbois de Jubainville, Professor Zimmer is the only
scholar who has applied the methods of the higher criticism
to the heroic sagas of the Irish, and he has done so in a far
more searching manner and on a far larger scale than the
Frenchman.^ Taking the sagas preserved in the oldest Irish
^ The oldest Irish glosses are accessible to the English reader in Mr.
Whitley Stokes' The Old-Irish glosses at Wurzburg and Carlsruhe, 18S7.
^ In the study I cite under the title LU.
MS. TRADITION 127
MS., ' The Book of the Dun Cow,' written towards the end of
the eleventh century, he argues strongly for their having been
copied from a compilation made by Flann Manistrech, the
most learned Irishman of the early eleventh century. He
further argues that in making this compilation Flann had be-
fore him different versions, often inconsistent with each other,
which he welded together and harmonised, moreover, that
some of the originals which he thus used, are represented by
texts found in far younger mss. His conclusions have been
challenged in detail,^ but may, as a whole, be regarded as as-
sured. Their bearing upon the point I have raised is obvious.
The eleventh and twelfth century mss. may contain anything
from a transcript of the pre-Viking text, made as faithfully as
the habits of the time allowed (that is, with preservation of a
sufficient number of older grammatical and orthographic forms
to demonstrate its Old-Irish nature); to a complete re-telling
of the story, not only in the language, but also in the style of
and with the wider knowledge and altered literary conventions
of the later period. All stages between these extremes may
be represented, yet the essentials of the story may conceiv-
ably be preserved with equal fidelity in each stage, and our
judgment as to the age and nature of each story be based, in
reality, upon accidental and secondary considerations.
It might be thought that the less or greater admixture of
the non-Christian element supplied a sure indication of the
age of these stories. But this is not so. In this, as in other
things, the Viking period is a disturbing cause, the full effects
of which are by no means clearly defined. On their arrival in
Ireland, and for a century and a half after, the mass of the
invaders were not only pagan, but aggressively and ferociously
anli-Chri.stian. It is more than likely that their advent must
* By Dr. Max NcUlau, R. C. x., xii., xiii., xiv.
128 SCANDINAVIAN INFLUENCE
have fanned whatever fires may have been slumbering in the
ashes of Irish paganism ; certain, too, that their chieftains
setthng down in Ireland, becoming half Irish, assimilating
the mythic and heroic traditions of the Irish, would form
natural patrons for such of the bards or shanachies as still
preserved the saga store of their race in its purest form. Con-
versely, it is at least possible that these bards and shanachies
would learn something of the songs and sagas the invaders
had brought over sea, and that in this way a new non-Christian
influence might come to be exerted upon Irish tradition.
Professor Zimmer, to whom is due the merit of vigorous
insistence upon the import of the Viking period for Irish
culture, has endeavoured to trace out a number of cases in
which the Irish hero-tales have been modified by Teutonic
sagas. ^ I do not think he has succeeded in any of these cases,
and in this opinion I do not stand alone.^ But he has placed
the possibility of such influence beyond doubt, and it is one
which must be kept steadily in mind during the present investi-
gation. For we shall be largely concerned with personages of
the so-called mythological cycle, the race which, according to
the annals, preceded the son of Mil in Ireland. Now, it is
precisely in texts of this cycle that some of the most remark-
able parallels with Scandinavian mythic literature are found. ^
Again, we know of these personages not only from Irish saga,
' Chiefly in his article entitled, Keltische Beitrlige, I. Germanen, etc.,
in der iiltesten Ueberlieferung der irischen Heldensage, contained in
vol. xxxiii. of the Zeitschiift ftir deutsches Alterthum, iS88.
" See my criticism, Archaeological Review, October iS88, and M.
Ernest Lichtenberger,'Le poiime et la legende des Nibelungen, Paris, 1892.
2 E.g. tiie parallel between a passage in the Battle of Moytura, the
most important text of the mythological cycle, edited and translated by
Mr. Whitley Stokes, R. C. xii. in, and the Volospa. I first drew
attention to this, Folk-Lorc, iii. 391.
SCANDINAVIAN INFLUENCE 129
but from a remarkable group of Welsh tales, the Mabinogion
properly so called, i.e. the tales of Pwyll, Branwen, Manawyddan,
and INIath.^ The affinity of these to Irish myth is patent, and
has been explained in different ways, — by prehistoric com-
munity of mythic conception between the two branches of the
Celtic-speaking peoples,- or (recently by Professor Rhys),^ by
survival of a Goidelic population in Wales. But it is at least
I)ossible, that it is only due to literary influence exercised
during the ninth to the eleventh century by Ireland upon
^Vales. It is, then, significant to note that the closest parallel
yet found between Celtic and Teutonic heroic saga is furnished,
as I pointed out fourteen years ago, by the Mabinogi of Bran-
wen, daughter of Llyr.^ Here, again, I trust the discussion
which follows may be of some aid in solving an obscure and
fascinating problem.
Finally, it is worth consideration that a number of the
eleventh century texts present themselves to us as avowedly
defective. The reason for this is not far to seek. The
scholars of the tenth and eleventh centuries gathered together
after the storm and stress of the Viking period such ms.
remains as had escaped the fury of the invaders. In many
cases fragments alone were all that offered themselves, and
they have at times not hesitated to reproduce the fragmentary
condition of their modes. Facts such as these lend strong
support to Professor Zimmer's contention that the criticism of
' Acccssiljlc to the English reader in Lady Charlotte Guest's translation
of the Mabinogion.
- This is apparently the explanation favoured by Professor Rhys in his
llibbcrt Lectures on Celtic Heathendom, 1888.
^ In a paper on the Twrch Trwyth story read before the Cynimrodorion
and Folk-Lorc Societies, to be printed in the Transactions of the
Cynimrodorion Society.
^ lolk-Lore Record, vol. v., 1S82.
I
I30 CHANGES IN ORAL TRADITION
Irish mythic saga must in the majority of cases be literary.
We are deahng with a Uterary product, preserved by copying
from earher into later mss., rather than with a tradition handed
down orally. Indeed we cannot fail to notice that often
the compiler or scribe of the eleventh and twelfth centuries'
revival is as much at a loss to rightly understand the older texts
that lay before him as we can be. The very clumsiness of his
attempts at emendation, the glaring nature of the blunders
he was at times guilty of, are valuable because undesigned wit-
nesses to the archaic nature of the material he has preserved.
But the influence of a vigorous oral tradition must not be lost
sight of in many cases. The earliest Irish epic catalogue, which
is certainly as old as the early tenth, and may be as old as the
early eighth century,^ numbers 170 tales, and the witness of
texts of almost equal antiquity that a head-poet was required
to know 350 stories cannot be set aside.^ However rigid the
rules by which the story-teller sought to discipline the
memory of his pupils, still, in course of time recitation must
suffer the influence of altered conventions, of wider knowledge,
of richer and more complex social conditions. In estimating
the nature of the relations which obtain between the eleventh
century transcript and the possibly centuries older original,
the inevitable changes in official story-telling must not be left
out of account.
The reader has now I trust some idea how difficult and
complex a task it is to assign any particular portion of the
Irish mythic or heroic corpus to the age when it first passed
from the oral into the written form, to determine how far the
extant text represents that original, what, if any, have been
1 Printed MS. Mat. 584-593.
- Introductory note in the Book of Leinster to the epic catalogue, MS.
Mat. 583.
DIFFICULTY OF DATING IRISH ROMANCE 131
the modifications it has undergone, and what the cause of
these modifications. The annahstic framework cannot be
taken as an unerring guide. To cite one instance. Stories are
told of kings assigned by the annals to periods long ante-
dating the era of Conchobor and Cuchulinn, which are
manifestly far more modern in tone and style than the chief
tales of the Ultonian cycle. Indeed the past history of the
land would seem at one time, and by one school of writers, to
have been looked upon as a convenient frame in which to
insert numbers of floating folk tales.i But the Ultonian cycle
must before then have assumed definite shape ; it is, in tone
and temper, like all other great heroic sagas, essentially
tragic, and contrasts strongly with the playful and fanciful
romance of so much else in Irish story-telling. Yet the
guidance of the annals cannot be .lightly thrust aside as
worthless. I have noted the fact that whilst the marvellous
is as prominent in the sixth and seventh century kings' lives as
it is in those of earlier monarchs, yet it is Christian and not
Pagan in character. This cannot, I think, be set down to
design, and can only arise from the fact that some stories, at
least, were told about Pagan kings before Christianity came
to Ireland, and were too firmly attached to them to be passed
over.
One thing is certain. A conclusion based upon one class
of talcs only is hardly likely to be right, unless it can be
applied, with some measure of success, to the remainder of
Irish i)re-eleventh-century literature. In the following pages
I shall discuss the origin, nature, and development of two
well-defined conceptions embodied in a clearly marked genre
of narrative composition, but I shall endeavour to keep in
' I have given, Waifs and Strays, iv., xvii, a list of folk-tale themes
to be found in prc-elcventh century Irish literature.
132 THE HAPPY OTHER WORLD
mind Irish literature generally, and to advance no claim the
validity of which is nullified by any other section of that
literature, however much it may seem to be supported by this
particular section. I would only premise that I am concerned,
in the first place, with the original written form of certain
tales, and it is only after endeavouring to place this as accu-
rately as possible that I further discuss the oral traditions
underlying that written form. Statements as to age or origin
must be taken as applying to this latter and not to the
former.
CHAPTER II
THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN BRAN'S
VOYAGE
The Voyage of Bran, constituent elements and leading conceptions — The
Happy Othcrworld — The Doctrine of Rebirth — Aims and method of the
investigation — Linguistic evidence as to the age of Bran's Voyage — His-
torical evidence on the same point — The Mongan episode, testivionia to
Mongan — Discussion of the historical evidence — Evidence drawn from
Latin loan words in the Irish text — Summing up of the Happy Other-
world conception as found in Bran's Voyage.
I NO\v pass to the consideration of the old Irish story,
and I propose to state, at the outset, the problems involved,
to note their possible solutions, and to indicate the method
of investigation that will be pursued.
The Voyage of Bran can be traced back, diplomatically,
to the eleventh century ; the first step is to examine whether
the linguistic peculiarities of the text allow us to assign an
earlier dale to it, and if this date can be fixed with any
accuracy. It contains numerous allusions of a quasi-historical
nature, the evidence of which must be carefully weighed, and
the result compared with that attained by examination of the
language. Passing to the subject-matter, we find ourselves
confronted by conceptions and descriptions which at once
produce the impression of belonging to different periods and
to different stages of culture. A Christian clement is patent,
133
134 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
so that our story must have assumed its final shape since the
introduction of Christianity into Ireland. The main episode
is the hero's visit to a mysterious land dwelt in by beings
clearly distinguished from mortals by several attributes, most
prominent among which is that of deathlessness ; a feature of
secondary importance is the re-incarnation of one of these
beings in the shape of an Irish chieftain, whom other tales
also represent as a reincarnation of one of the most famous
heroes of Irish legend, Finn, son of Cumal. Thus are raised
the questions of the nature, age, and origin, on Gaelic soil, of
the conceptions of the Happy Otherworld, and of the Rebirth
of immortal beings in mortal shape,^ — parallels to which can
be adduced from both Christian and Pagan classic culture.
Taking the conception of the Happy Otherworld first, the
relations of our text to such other remains of Irish literature
as contain similar scenes and ideas must be determined, and
the paradise ideal of the ancient Irish must be reconstructed.
This ideal must then be compared with the Christian one,
such elements as seem referable to Christianity must be
separated, the residue must be set by the side of beliefs and
poetic imaginings, found firstly in Grteco-Roman literature,
secondly in that of other Aryan races. A similar course will
be pursued as regards the doctrine of reincarnation. After
which the question must be faced, how far the non-Christian
residue in Irish belief is due to a share in a common in-
heritance of Aryan mythic beliefs, how far to contact with
the Grseco-Roman world in (for the Gaels) prehistoric times,
how far to later influences of Graeco-Roman culture, consequent
upon the introduction of Christianity. So far the investigation
will deal with literary monuments only ; the evidence of
archceology must then be adduced, with a view to testing the
soundness of the results arrived at.
LINGUISTIC FEATURES 135
As each of the two themes will be examined independently,
without reference to the results arrived at in the other case,
it is hoped that there may emerge at least a plausible working
hypothesis, by the aid of which better equipped scholars will
be able to fully account for much the present writer is com-
pelled to leave obscure and doubtful.
Linguistic Evidence of Date.
Examining our tale as a linguist, Professor Kuno Meyer
has placed it among the oldest remains of Irish story-telling.
He regards the language to be recovered from the eleventh-
centurv transcript of the verse, as coeval with the earliest
recorded glosses, in other words, to belong, possibly, to the
eighth or even to the seventh century ; the prose is younger
in appearance, and may possibly have suffered from change.
He confirms conclusions already expressed by Professor
Zimmer. The agreement of two such scholars may be
accepted as final ; our present text of Bran's Voyage was
composed at least two centuries before our oldest transcript
was made. But, as I have already argued, the linguistic
evidence does not allow us to approximate more closely to the
date of composition. It gives us our choice of two or possibly
three centuries. If we seek greater precision, we must turn
to the historical allusions contained in our text.
Historical Evidence of Date.
A priori, a pre-eleventh-century text of such a character as
ours is likely to be older than the year 850. The incursions of
the Northmen, which began in the last years of the eighth cen-
tury, and were at their height throughout the greater part of the
ninth century, were certainly not favourable to Irish letters.
It is possible, nay probable, that the secular literature of the
136 HISTORICAL CONDITIONS
bards, where, if anywhere, we should expect to find traces of
pre-Christian beliefs and imaginings, did not suffer so much
as the Christian classic culture, which had flourished so mar-
vellously throughout the sixth, seventh, and eighth centuries.
But considering the close relations that obtained in the
eleventh and following centuries, between the clergy and the
class of professional men of study and letters, it is difficult to
believe that it was much otherwise in the eighth and ninth
centuries, and it may safely be affirmed that the widespread
destruction of churches and of convent schools, the scattering
of teachers, scribes, and manuscript, must have injuriously
affected profane as well as ecclesiastical literature. In one
sense, more so ; the cleric, fleeing to the Continent from the
fierce Vikings, could always find a market for his knowledge of
the Scriptures or the classics — but who would have cared for
tales of Conchobor or Cuchulinn, even if it had occurred to him
to translate them out of the familiar native tongue into the
language sacred to religion and philosophy? We are not
reduced, however, to conjectures of this nature. Bran's
Voyage contains historical allusions of, apparently, a very pre-
cise nature. Quatrains 49 and following contain a prophecy
by Manannan ; he will go to Line-mag and he will beget on
Caintigern, wife of Fiachna, a son, Mongan, possessor of magic
skill and attributes, who shall live fifty years and shall be slain
by a dragon stone in the fight at Senlabor.
The Mongan Story.
The allusions in the poem are made plain by the tale en-
titled the Conception of Mongan, printed infra^ pp. 58 ^/ seq.,
and the glossator of our poem evidently interpreted them in
the same way. Moreover, certain data of the poem, such as
the magic shape-shifting attributes of Manannan's son, under-
THE MONGAN EPISODE 137
lie the other stories about Mongan, printed suprcu, pp. 42 et seq.
Before discussing these it may be well to print a series of
tesiimoma to Mongan, son of Fiachna, of whose actual
existence and renown there is no reason to doubt. But a
preliminary objection must be faced, bearing in mind that we
are at present seeking for evidence concerning the date of
composition of Bran's Voyage. Is the Mongan episode an
organic portion of the Bran story at all ? May it not repre-
sent a later interpolation, and is it not unfair to draw con-
clusions from it respecting what may really be far older? As
will be made apparent later, I think it extremely likely that
Bran's visit to the Otherworld was once told as an independ-
ent tale, and that the Mongan episode is rather clumsily foisted
in. But it seems certain that the author of this contamination
was likewise the author of the Bran story, as it has come
down to us ; in other words, that we are entitled to use the
Mongan episode for the purpose of dating the story as ive
possess if. I italicise the last four words purposely. The
oldest written form of a story may be the starting point of a
new literary organism ; it may equally be the last link of a
long chain, all the predecessors of which have perished. In
either case it must be taken as the starting point of investiga-
tion, but the second possibility must always be kept in
mind.
The notices concerning the historical Mongan are as
follows. Where the translation differs from those already
in print they are due to Professor Kuno Meyer.
Tigernach's Annals, a.d. 620:^ Mongan, son of Fiachna
Lurgan dies slain with a stone by Artur, son of Bicor of Britain,
' See also the Annals of Ulster, a.d. 625; Chronicum Scotorum,
A. n. 625, and the Four Masters, a.d. 620. The Irish texts of these
extracts are printed supra.
138 TESTIMONIA TO MONGAN
whence Becc Boirche [a king of Ulster, who died a.d. 716]
sang :
' Cold is the wind across Islay,
Warriors of Cantire are coming,
They will commit a ruthless deed,
They will kill Mongan son of Fiachna.
The church of Cluan Airthir^ to-day,
Famous the four on whom it closed :
Cormac the gentle, with great suffering,
And Illand son of Fiachu.
And the other twain,
Whom many tribes did serve :
Mongan son of Fiachna Lurgan,
And Ronan son of Tuathal' ^
Annals of Clonmacnoise, a.d. 624 -.^ Mongan mac Fiaghna,
a very well-spoken man, and much given to the wooing of
women, was killed by one [Arthur ap] Bicoir, a Welshman,
with a stone.
From Cinaed hua Hartacain's ( + 975) poem on the fiannn
of Ireland, Book of Leinster, p. 1,1 b :
' Mongan, who was a diadem of every generation,
Fell by the_/fa?z of Cantire :
By ihejlan of Luagni was the death of Finn
At Ath Brea on the Boyne.'
Finally, the Irish Annals translated by Mr. Standish Hayes
O'Grady (Silva Gad. 421) from Eg. 1782, a fifteenth-century
transcript of older material, may be cited as summing up the
1 Reves, Adamnan, p. 373, note k, thinks this is the place now called
Magheracloon (Machaire Cli'iana), co. Monaghan.
- King of the Airthera or Eastern Oirghialla, co. Armagh.
^ Quoted by O'Donovan, Four Masters, vol. i. p. 243, note z.
TESTIMONIA TO MONGAN 139
whole matter in the eyes of a rationalising antiquary of the
twelfth or possibly the eleventh century : ' a.d. 615. Also the
notable Mongan was son of that same Fiachna, son of
Baetan. For albeit certain dealers in antiquarian fable do
propound him to have been son of Manannan and wont to
enter at his pleasure into divers shapes. Yet this we may not
credit, rather choosing to take Mongan for one that was but
a man of surpassing knowledge, and gifted with an intelli-
gence clear, and subtle, and keen.'
The above evidence, and the tales themselves, as found
in the eleventh century ms., the Book of the Dun Cow,
clearly prove that stories at the very least as old as the
tenth century existed concerning a Mongan, son of Fiachna,
a noted wizard and a rebirth of Manannan, and also, by
some accounts, of Finn, son of Cumal. The importance
of the latter fact will be discussed later on, for the present
it may suffice to say that, apart from Bran's Voyage, the
evidence that Mongan was a rebirth of Finn is every whit
as good as that for his being a rebirth of Manannan. It
is also certain that by the end of the tenth century at the
latest this wizard Mongan was identified with the historical
son of Fiachna, whose death at the hands of an Arthur of
Britain is assigned to the year 620.^
' Interesting questions are raised by this early mention of an Arthur of
Britain living only a hundred years after the dux bellortun, whose exploits
supply the historical basis of the Arthurian romance. Professor Zimmer
(Nennius, 2S4, et seq.) has collected the earliest examples of the name
Arthur, which, as is well known, is first used of the great British hero-king
by the eighth or ninth century Nennius. He cites an Artur Map I'etr, a
South Welsh chief of 600-630 ; an Artur, son of Aed Mac Gabrain, king
of Dalriada, who died in 606, is mentioned by Adamnan, and his death
is ascribed by Tigernach to the year 596. For Professor Zimmer this
occurrence of the name among both the Southern and Northern Kymry at
I40 MONGAN
We must not, it is true, suffer ourselves to be overborne by
the show of precise dating and historic accuracy made by the
texts. It is significant to note that the tale of Mongan's
frenzy {supra, p. 57) brings him into contact with personages
of the early sixth century. This may be due, as I have
argued supra, to confusion between events and personages
of the sixth century due to similarity of the name Diarmait,
between two high kings of Ireland, and to the fact that the
yellow plague visited the country in both reigns ; also it may
simply testify to the story-teller's ignorance of history, as
on the other hand it may testify to a time when tradition
had not definitely assigned a date to the wizard hero.
But, considering the evidence as a whole, and without
unduly straining isolated portions, I think it must be held
to fix a terminus a quo, as we have already fixed a ferminus
ad quern, for our story. It is immaterial whether the
historical Mongan had a mythical namesake from whom
these stories were transferred to him, or whether other cir-
cumstances determined the crystallisation round his person
of tales which in themselves must be far older. In either
case the process must have required a couple of generations,
the turn of the sixth and seventh centuries testifies to the existence at this
date of the historical Arthur legend. The special interest attaching to
Arthur, son of Bicor, lies in his connection with Mongan, and through
Mongan with the saga of Finn, son of Cumal. As I have pointed out
(R. C. xii. 188-189), there are definite points of contact between the
Arthurian and Fenian cycles of romance in the stories told about the
youth of both Arthur and Finn, and in the fact that both heroes have
unfaithful wives, the favoured lover being in each case the king's
nephew. It has never yet been pointed out that the equation Mongan-
Finn supplies a further parallel between the two cycles in the birth story
of Mongan and of Arthur. I hope to develop this point fully in the
second portion of this study, in which I shall examine at length the
various stories about Mongan printed in this volume.
LOAN WORDS 141
so that Bran's Voyage can hardly have assumed the shape
under which it has come down to us before the last quarter of
the seventh century, and may, of course, be younger by any
number between 10 and 150 years.
Evidence of the Loan Words.
Linguistic and historical evidence are thus in general agree-
ment ; our tale may belong to the seventh, or more likely to
the eighth century. Considerations, hitherto left unnoticed,
support this view. Professor Meyer has instanced {supra, p.
xvi) the loan words from the Latin which the story contains.
But borrowing from Latin implies the possibility of borrowing
from Latin Christian culture. It also implies such lengthened
familiarity with the ideas represented by the words as to
enable their use with advantage and effect in a romance. It
may be urged that in the sixth and early seventh centuries
Ireland was sufSciently Christianised to allow of considerable
borrowing from the more highly cultured language. True,
and had our text been of an ecclesiastical nature I do not
think the argument from the loan words would be valid for
an eighth century date as against a late seventh century one.
But Bran's Voyage, though to what extent must be left an
open question for the present, is partly Pagan, and I should
expect a Pagan text either to antedate the effective triumph of
Christianity in Ireland, in which case the alien culture would
probably have influenced it but little, or to so far postdate it
as to allow the disappearance of an anti-Pagan censorious
feeling on the part of the clergy who had absorbed so many
of the pre-Christian literary elements of Irish society. How-
ever rapid the progress of Christianity in Ireland may have
been, however lukewarm, comparatively speaking, the resist-
ance of the pre-Christian beliefs, still some resistance, some
142 THE VOYAGE OF BRAN
conflict there must have been, and there are not wanting
signs that both were prolonged well on into the seventh cen-
tury. Christianity must have been securely organised by the
time the author of Bran's Voyage wrote ; he could retell his
Pagan tale, lard it with Christian allusions, embellish it with
loans from Latin Christian culture, without any sense of
incongruity, and this could hardly be done, I take it, before
the eighth century, to the middle of which we may, provision-
ally, assign his work.
If the story of Bran had come down to us as the sole repre-
sentative of the conceptions embodied in it, some certainty
respecting their origin and development might yet, though
with difficulty, be attained. Luckily, however, it is but one
example of a class of romantic narrative reaching back to
the dawn of Irish literature, and preserving its popu-
larity and plastic vitality until the last century ; moreover,
both of its leading conceptions — that of the Happy Other-
world and that of Rebirth — may be paralleled from tales of
equal or even greater antiquity. The study of this literature,
of these parallels, cannot fail to throw light upon the origin and
nature of our story.
Summary of Bran's Presentment of the
Happy Otherworld.
Before entering upon this study, it may be well to recall
the salient features of the Happy Otherworld as portrayed in
Bran's Voyage. It may be reached by mortals specially
summoned by denizens of the land; the summons comes
from a damsel, whose approach is marked by magically sweet
music, and who bears a magic apple-branch. She describes
the land under the most alluring colours — its inhabitants are
SUMMARY 143
free from death and decay, they enjoy in full measure a
simple round of sensuous dehghts, the land itself is one of
thrice fifty distant isles lying to the west of Ireland ; access to
the whole group is guarded by Manannan, son of Lir. The
first island touched at is the Island of Joy (where one of the
hero's companions is left behind), the second the Land of
Women. The chief of the women draws Bran to shore with
a magic clew, and keeps him with her for, as it seems to him,
a year. Longing seizes one of the mortal band to revisit
Ireland. All the wanderers accompany him, but are warned
against setting foot to land. On returning to Ireland they
find they have been absent for centuries, and the one who in
defiance of the warning touches earth is forthwith reduced to
ashes. Bran tells his adventure, and disappears again from
mortal ken.
CHAPTER III
THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWOKLD IN PARALLEL
TALES OF A MYTHIC CHARACTER
Parallel tales : [a) EcJitra Co?idla, or the Adventures of Connla ; summary of
the story, discussion of its date, comparison with Bran's Voyage — (i^)
Oisin in the Land of Youth ; summary of the story, discussion of its date
— (c) Cuchulinn's Sick Bed ; summary of the story, discussion of date,
comparison with Bran and Connla.
The Adventures of Connla.
The closest of all parallels to Bran's Voyage is the Echtra
Condla, the adventures of Connla, son of Cond the Hundred-
fighter, who was high king of Ireland, according to the tenth
and eleventh century annals, from a.d. 122 to 157. This is
also found in the Book of the Dun Cow, and, as Professor
Zimmer has pointed out (p. 262), there, and in the other mss.
which have preserved it, immediately precedes or follows the
story of Bran. When it is recollected that the oldest Irish
mss. are small libraries in themselves, the contents of which
are arranged with some attempt at system, this invariable
juxtaposition of the two stories acquires a certain importance.
I summarise from the English version by the Rev. Father
MacSwiney (Gae/t'c Jburna/, ii. 307), collated with Professor
Zimmer's German version (p. 262).^
^ There is also a French version in M. d'Arbois de Jubainville's Epopee
Cellique en Irlande (Paris, 1S92), 384-390.
CONNLA 145
• Connla, being in company with his father on the top of
Uisnech, sees a damsel in strange garb approaching. She
comes from the lands of the hving, where is neither death, nor
sin, nor transgression. 'Tis a large sid in which she and her
kin dwell, hence they are called Aes Side (folk of the hillock
or mound). The father cannot understand with whom his
son is talking, and the damsel enlightens him. She loves
Connla, and she has come to invite him to the Plain of
Delight, where dwells King Boadag. 'Come with me,' she
cries, 'Connla of the Ruddy Hair, of the speckled neck,
flame-red, a yellow crown awaits thee ; thy figure shall not
wither, nor its youth nor its beauty till the dreadful Judgment.'^
The father then bade Coran the Druid, who, like the others,
heard but did not see the damsel, to chant chants against her.
So she departed, but left to Connla an apple, and this was his
sole sustenance for a month, and yet nothing was diminished
of it. Longing filled Connla for the damsel, and at the
month's end he beheld her again, and she addressed him in
this wise : ' 'Tis no lofty seat on which Connla sits among
short-lived mortals awaiting fearful death. The ever-living
living ones invite thee. Thou art a champion (or favourite)
to the men of Tethra, for they see thee every day in the
assemblies of thy father's home among thy dear friends.'
Again the king urges the Druid to chant against her, but she
' Professor Windisch, in his edition of the Echtra Condla (Irische
Textc, i.), iak'mg cairn as the genitive of cam (crooked), instead of cactn
(fair), has made a hunchback of Connla. The distinguished Leipzig
scholar, as also M. d'Arbois de Jubainville who adopts this rendering,
should have seen that it must be wrong. The very last thing the ladies
of F'aery thought of was the bestowal of their favour upon any but a
young and handsome and gallant man. Cf. too the description of Connla
in the thirtcenth-fourtcenlh-ccntury romance, The Adventures of Teigue,
son of Cian (iu/ra, pj). 201-208).
K
146 CONNLA
makes answer, ' Druidism is not loved, little has it progressed
to honour on the Great Strand. When his law shall come it
will scatter the charms of Druids from journeying on the lips
of the black, lying demons.' She then tells Connla of another
land, in which is no race save only women and maidens.
When she has ended, Connla gives a bound right into her
ship of glass, her well-balanced gleaming currach. They
sailed the sea away from them, and from that day to this have
not been seen, and it is unknown whither they went.
In one important respect Connla differs from Bran. He is
son of Conn, a famous figure in Gaelic legendary history, him-
self the hero of a visit to the Otherworld {infra, p. 187), and
the centre of a great cycle of stories which tell of his combats
with the Munster king, Mog Nuadat ; his brother Art is a
prominent figure in the yet more famous cycle of which the
battle of Mag Mucrima is the chief episode; whilst his nephew
Cormac, is, with the sole exception of Conchobor, the most
famous among the legendary hero kings of Erin, and the one
around whom has gathered the most varied mass of heroic
romance outside the great heroic cycles. Little wonder then
that he too should be a subject of bardic inspiration. But
Bran and his father Febal are otherwise unknown to us, nor
does the story give the slightest clew to the age in which
they were supposed to live. It is impossible at present to
say whether or no this independence of the traditional annals
is a sign of early or late origin. The criticism of the extensive
mass of heroic legend which has accumulated round the
names of Irish kings of the first four centuries of our era is
yet in its infancy. We know that it had certainly taken shape
by the end of the tenth century, and that it was put into the
form in which it has come down to us in the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, but of its real age, of its nature and develop-
DATE OF CONNLA 147
ment, we have only the vaguest idea. I beheve, but I can
advance no solid ground for my belief, that the non-dependence
of Bran's Voyage upon any of the recognised cycles of historic
legend is a sign of age, and clear proof that its eighth century
author was dealing with far older material.
A second point in considering the age of the Echtra Condla
is this. The story is avowedly told to account for the epithet
of Oenfer (the Lone One), given to Connla's brother Art, and
concludes as follows : ' They (Cond and Goran) see Art
coming towards them. Alone is Art to-day, says Cond,
probably his brother is not. 'Tis the name, quoth Goran,
that shall be upon him till the Judgment — Art the Lone One.
Hence it is the name stuck to him ever after.' But there is
another explanation of the epithet to be found in the unknown
poet cited by Keating^ (p. 314), in the Annals of Glonmacnoise,
and in the following extract from Kilbride 3 (a fifteenth century
MS. preserved in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh), cited,
Silva Gadelica, 534 : 'Why was Art called Aenflicr} Because,
excepting him, Gonn had not a son left, Gonnla and Grinna
being slain by Eochaid Fionn and Fiacha Suighde^ (Gonnla's
uncles). The extract, which is from the Coir Anviami, a
species of biographical and historical encyclopcedia compiled
in the eleventh century, proceeds to quote the verse made use of
by Keating, and also mentions the variant explanation afforded
by the Echira Condla. Here again it is difficult to say if what
may be termed the annalistic account is older or younger than
the legendary one. I believe it to be considerably younger,
and to have been intentionally substituted for tlie other,
' The brothers of the royal Conn
Were Eocaidh Finn and Fiacaidh Suighdi,
Who Connla slew and Crinna Ixavc,
Conn's comely sons, their youthful nephews.
148 CONNLA AND BRAN
to the great antiquity of which it thus yields precious
witness.
The Echtra Condla shares with the Imrain Brain two
marked characteristics of a general nature. Both are de-
cidedly incoherent. In Bran the Mongan episodes and the
mention of the Isle of Joy are introduced in the same casual
off-hand way as the fairy damsel's currach in Connia, although
in the latter case the inconsistency is more glaring than any-
thing in the other story. Again, the Christian element produces
in both cases the same impression of being thrust into the
story without rhyme or reason. True, in Connia there is
some point in the reference to Christ's coming, and we may
safely say that the tale as we have it is due to an enemy of
the Druid system (which by no means died out with the
triumph of Christianity) or has been interpolated by one.
These similarities of artistic handling are sufficient to allow
the surmise that possibly both tales may be due to the same
writer. It is noteworthy also that they in a measure supple-
ment each other ; the love motive emphasised in the one is
implied in the other, as the ultimate term of Bran's voyage is
the Isle of Fair Women, the queen of which is possibly the
summoning damsel. Certain differences between two stories
may be set down to the different conditions of their being.
The teller of Connla's fate, anxious only to emphasise his
disappearance, has naturally nothing to say about his access
to the mysterious land, about its ruler, or the penalty
attaching to departure from it. But there can be little doubt
that substantially his presentment of these points would have
been the same as in Bran's Voyage. The most marked differ-
ence between the two stories, the fact, namel)^ that the fairy
messenger is visible to the comrades of Bran whilst invisible to
those of Connia, is more apparent than real. The attribute of
OISIN IN TIR NA N-OG 149
invisibility to mortal eyes belongs also to the- subjects of
Manannan, as may be seen by quatrain 39 of Bran's Voyage.
It would nevertheless be unsafe, in my judgment, to claim
a common authorship for both tales. Rather must they be
looked upon as products of one school, in which old traditions
were handled in a particular spirit and with an evident desire
to make them palatable in orthodox eyes. Substantially the
presentment of the Happy Otherworld is the same in both
tales. It is essentially the Plain of Joy ; its immates are the
ever-living living ones ; they summon to themselves such
mortals as they choose, and by their choice confer upon them
their most cherished attribute — freedom from death and
decay. In both cases this freedom is symbolised by, nay,
seems dependent upon magic food. Both seem to regard
return to this earth as an impossibility. Taken together
they offer the oldest Irish type of the journey to the land where
there is no death and whence there is no scathless return.
OisiN IN THE Land of Youth.
Numerous, as will be shown presently, are the visions of
this land in Irish story-telling ; yet to find a close variant to
the myth as it greets us from the very threshold of Irish
literature we must traverse centuries. Christianity has come,
the Norsemen have come, the Normans have come, each
affecting but slightly the old framework of Irish social and
moral life. At length the English have come, and in the
bloody travail of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
Ireland is born anew into the modern world. But her poets
and peasants cling fast to and for a while retain the old faith
and vision, and the eighteenth century folk-singer, Michael
Comyn, tells the story of Oisin in the Land of Youth on the
same lines and with the same colours as the eighth century
ISO OISIN
shannachie who told of Bran or Connla.^ The hero is caught
away to the fairy land of the living by the loving entreaty of
Niam, daughter of its king : —
' Redder was her cheek than the rose,
Fairer her face than swan upon the wave,
More sweet the taste of her balsam lips
Than honey mingled with red wine.'
Of the land itself we are told : —
' Abundant there are honey and wine.
And aught else the eye has beheld.
Fleeting time shall not bend thee,
Death nor decay shalt thou see.'
The damsel carries the hero away on her steed across the
western waves and the Fianna raise three shouts of mourning
and grief. As they traverse the ocean they behold a young
maid on a brown steed, a golden apple in her right hand.
Oisin spends three hundred years in the Land of Youth, and
at length is fain to see Erinn once more, Fionn and his great
host. Niam warns him : —
' If thou layest foot on level ground
Thou shalt not come again for ever
To this fair land in which I am myself.
If thou alightest from the steed
Thou wilt be an old man, withered and blind.
Here then the prohibition is for the hero to alight from his
horse, and this touch reveals a whole history of social de-
velopment. When the stories of Bran and Connla were
wrought, the Irish used horses as beasts of draught only —
the heroes fought from the war-chariot or on foot. The
^ Edited, with an interesting introduction, by Mr. B. O'Looney,
Ossianic Soc. iv.
DATE OF POEM 151
.story-teller could not have imagined the hero disbarking on
his return from the Land of Promise without touching the
death-giving earth. But in course of time, probably during the
Viking invasions, the Irish became riders, and horseman and
hero were almost synonymous (although it should be noted
that in the Fenian tales as much stress is laid upon the swift-
ness of foot of Caoilte or Oisin as in the Homeric poems
upon that of Achilles). Hence the added refinement of
descent from the horse. It is indeed surprising that the idea
of actual contact between earth and the body of the home-
faring mortal being necessary for time to accomplish its work
should have persisted as it did.
It is unnecessary to dwell upon other proofs of lateness of
this poem ; the really remarkable thing being that although
undoubtedly a composition of the last two hundred years, it
should in scenery, accessories, spirit, and colouring resemble so
strongly stories a thousand years older. And when I call it a
composition of the last two hundred years, I wish to be under-
stood as referring solely to the literary form in which it is
cast. I see no reason for doubting that the visit of Oisin
to the Land of Youth, and his return to earth, were early
component parts of the Fenian cycle. In one of the chief
monuments of that cycle, the Agallamh na Sejwrach, or
Colloquy with the Ancients, preserved in fourteenth century
Mss., and probably a composition of the thirteenth century,
the living on of Oisin and Caoilte into Patrician times is
definitely indicated, and Oisin is stated to have passed into
the sidh (fairy mound) of his mother Blai,^ who is said, the
oldest authority being a marginal note in the Book of Leinster,
probably of the thirteenth century, to have borne him whilst
^ See Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady's translation of the Colloquy,
Silva Gad., 102.
152 CUCHULINN'S SICK BED
she was in doe shape. -^ And a supernaturally prolonged h'fe
is presupposed by the extensive body of Ossianic poetry, which
brings the hero in contact with St. Patrick, and which must be
at least as old as the fourteenth century, as it is found, in an
obviously worn-down condition, in the Book of the Dean of
Lismore, a Scotch Gaelic ms. of the late fifteenth century.- It
may be urged that Michael Comyn, to account for the super-
natural prolonging of the hero's life, transformed an older
tradition of his disappearance into a fairy mound into a visit
to the Happy Otherworld. But I think this unlikely, and I
hold that Comyn's poem embodies, in the main, an old and
genuine tradition. The point is, however, of httle moment
for the present inquiry, the interest of the work lying, as I have
already said, in its testimony to the vitality and plastic capacity
of the Otherworld conception in Gaelic popular literature.
Cuchulinn's Sick Bed,
The three stories that have just been discussed, all exem-
plify one main idea of the Otherworld conception — the
impossibility for the mortal, who has penetrated thither, to
return to earth. We must now examine a number of stories,
from which this idea is absent, and it will be necessary to
arrive at some conclusion whether or no this is a sign of later
origin. The first of these stories, one of the most famous
episodes of the Ultonian cycle, is known as the Sick Bed
of Cuchulinn. It has been edited from the Book of the Dun
1 Silva Gad., 522.
" The earliest recorded example of this class of Ossianic composition
has been printed and translated by Prof. Kuno Meyer (R.C. vi. 1S5-S6),
from Stowe US. 992 of the late fourteenth century. It consists of four
short verses in which Oisin bewails the loss of his youth and vigour.
The defiant anti-Christian note is, however, absent from these verses.
CUCHU LINN'S SICK BED 153
.Cow, with accompanying English translation, by O'Curry
(Atlantis, Nos. ii. and iii.). I use his version, as revised by
Professor Meyer. ^
The story runs as follows: — As the Ultonians were assembled
for the great Fair of Samhain, a flock of birds alighted on the
lake in their presence, and in Erin there were not birds more
beautiful. The king's wife declared she must have one, whereat
the other women of the court, and in especial, Eithne Inguba,
Cuchulinn's mistniss, claimed them also. Cuchulinn slew and
distributed the birds, and every woman of the Court received
one, save his own wife, Emer. To appease her, he promised
that the next time birds should come, she should have the two
most beautiful ones. Not long after, they saw two birds on
the lake, linked together by a chain of red gold. They
chanted a low melody, which brought sleep upon the
assembly.' Cuchulinn sought to slay them, but without
success. He went away in bad spirits, and sleep fell upon
him. And he saw two women coming towards him, one in
green and one in a five-folded crimson cloak. The woman in
green went up to him and smiled, and gave him a stroke of a
horse-switch. Then the other, coming up, also smiled and
struck him, and this they did alternately till they left him
nearly dead. He lay till the end of a year, without speaking
to any one. There came then a stranger and sang verses
promising healing and strength to the hero, if he would accept
the invitation of the daughters of Aed Abrat, to one of whom,
Fann, ' it would give heartfelt joy to be espoused to Cuchu-
linn.' He then departed, ' and they knew not whence he
came nor whither he went.' Cuchulinn went to the place
where the adventure had befallen him, and saw again the
^ I have also collated M. d'Arljois dc Jubainvillc's French version,
Epopee Ccltique, 170-216.
154 CUCHULINN'S SICK BED
woman in a green cloak. From her he learnt that Fann,
abandoned by her husband, Manannan Mac Lir, had con-
ceived affection for him. Her own name is Liban, and her
husband, Labraid of the Quick Hand on the Sword, bids her
tell him that if he will come and fight against Labraid's
enemies, he shall get Fann to wife. Their country is the
Plain of Delight.
Cuchulinn sent his charioteer, Laeg, to see what manner
of land it might be whence she came. Liban and he travelled
together to the water's edge, where, entering a boat of bronze,
they crossed over to an island. Laeg saw both Fann and
Labraid, and when he returned to Cuchulinn the latter rose
up and passed his hand over his face, and felt his spirits
strengthened by the stories the youth related.
Again Liban came to invite Cuchulinn to the fairy mansions,
and she sang to him thus :
' Labraid is now upon a pure lake.
Whither do resort companies of women.
Thou would'st not feel fatigued by coming to his land,
If thou would'st but visit Labraid.
Daring his right hand which repels a hundred.
He who has told it knows :
Crimson in beautiful hue
Is the likeness of Labraid's cheek.
He shakes a wolfs head of battle slaughter
Before his thin red sword ;
He crushes the weapons of helpless hosts,
He shatters the broad shields of champions.
Columns of silver and of crystal
Are in the house in which he is.'
CUCHULINN'S SICK BED 155
■ Cuchulinn again sent Laeg, and when the latter returned
he sang verses describing Labraid's house and land :
' There are at the western door,
In the place where the sun goes down,
A stud of steeds with grey-speckled manes,
And another crimson-brown.
There are at the eastern door
Three ancient trees of crimson crystal,
From which sing soft-voiced birds incessantly
To the youth from out the kingly Rath.
There is a tree in front of the court ;
It cannot be matched in harmony ;
A tree of silver against which the sun shines.
Like unto gold is its great sheen.
There is a vat there of merry mead,
A-distributing unto the household,
Still it remains, constant the custom.
So that it is ever full, ever and always.'
He also praised Fann :
' The hearts of all men do break
For her love and her affection.'
and declared :
' If all Erin were mine
And the kingship of yellow Bregia,
I would give it, no trifling deed.
To dwell for aye in the place I reached.'
Cuchulinn then went with Laeg, overthrew Labraid's
enemies, and after remaining a month with Fann, made
156 CUCHULINN'S SICK BED
assignation to meet her at Ibar-Cinn-Trachta. But Emer,
his wife, heard of this, and taking with her fifty maidens
armed with knives, went to the appointed place of meeting.
When Fann saw her she appealed to Cuchulinn for protection,
and he promised it. But Emer upbraided him bitterly. Why
had he dishonoured her before all the women of Erin and before
all honourable people ? Once they were together in dignity, and
they might be again if it were pleasing to him. And Cuchulinn
took pity upon her. A contest then arose between the two,
Fann and Emer, which should give up Cuchulinn. The fairy
queen yielded to the mortal, and she sang :
' Woe ! to give love to a person,
If he does not take notice of it ;
It is better to be turned away
Unless one is loved as one loves.'
But when Manannan was made aware of this he came from
the east to seek Fann, and no one perceived him but Fann
alone, and great remorse ^ seized her, and she sang :
' O'Curry, Atlantis, iii. 1 19, translates 'terror;' but, as Professor Zimmer
has well pointed out (LU. 614), the song she sings betrays no sign of
terror. On the contrary, she recalls her happy married life, and although
she does not conceal her love for the mortal, she returns of her own free
will to the immortal husband. M. d'Arbois de Jubainville translates
'jalousie,' but Fann's sentiment certainly refers to Cuchulinn and not to
Manannan.
I have quoted at somewhat greater length from this story than was
perhaps absolutely necessary, but I could not resist the temptation of
citing passages which bear out so strongly the contention I was the first to
urge (in my Grail) that the position assigned to woman in the French
Arthurian romances of the twelfth century is dependent upon far older
Celtic literature as represented by the pre-eleventh century Irish sagas.
There is no parallel to the position or to the sentiments of Fann in the
post-classic hterature of Western Europe until we come to Guinivere and
Isolt, Ninian and Orgueilleuse.
CUCHU LINN'S SICK BED 157
* Manannan, lord over the fair world,
There was a lime when he was dear to me.
One day that I was with the son of Ler
In the svmny palace of Dun Inbir,
We thought then without a doubt
Never should aught part us.
I see coming over the sea hither —
No foolish person sees him —
, The horseman of the crested sea.
Thy coming past us up to this,
No one sees but a .«V/-dweller.'
She went after Manannan, and he bade her welcome, and
gave her choice to stay with Cuchulinn or go with him. She
answered — ' There is, by our word, one of you whom I would
rather follow than the other, but it is with you I shall go, for
Cuchulinn has abandoned me — thou too hast no worthy
queen, but Cuchulinn has.'
But when Cuchulinn saw her depart he leaped three high
leaps, and he remained for a long time without drink and
without food in the mountains, nor was he himself again
until the Druids had given a drink of forgetfulness to him
and to Emer, and until Manannan had shaken his cloak
between Cuchulinn and Fann to the end that they should
never meet again.
The last words of the story are : ' So that this was a vision
to Cuchulinn of being stricken by the people of the Sid : for
the demoniac power was great before the faith ; and such was
its greatness that the demons used to fight bodily against
mortals, and they used to show them delights and secrets
of how they would l)e in immortality. It was thus they
158 RELATION TO BRAN
used to be believed in. So it is to such phantoms the
ignorant apply the names of Side and Aes Side.'
Although I have left out several irrelevant episodes in my
summary, the fact that this fine tale is not in an original
form will nevertheless be apparent to the reader. The double
invitation of Liban, the double preliminary visit of Laeg, can
only arise from contamination of two versions. In no
instance indeed has Professor Zimmer's acute and subtle
criticism done him better service than here, and it may be
taken as certain that the text of the Book of the Dun Cow is
a fusion of at least two narratives concerning Cuchulinn's
Adventures in Faery. The point is of importance in this way.
The language of Cuchulinn's Sick Bed is younger than that of
either Echtra Brain or Echtra Condla. But this may simply
be due to the fact that this process of welding into one two
originally discordant versions, forbade the close retention of
the original grammatical or orthographical forms we find in
Bran and Connla. These would be in fact simple copies
made in the early eleventh or late tenth century of far older
originals with a natural (natural, that is, in an entirely
uncritical age) adaptation to the language of the day, whilst
Cuchulinn's Sick Bed would require to be re-written, and
would inevitably lose its outward marks of antiquity. It can
I think be hardly doubted that it was this tenth or eleventh
century redactor who added the final paragraph, which I have
transcribed in full, and tliereby afforded valuable proof of the
belief in the sid folk as still living in his day.
Relation of Bran, Connla, and Cuchulinn's Sick Bed.
The less archaic nature of the language yields then no
decisive testimony in the question of the relative age of
Cuchulinn's Sick Bed and the Voyages of Bran and Connla.
WARLIKE OTHERWORLD 159
That question must be decided by internal evidence. We
may first briefly notice the points in which the three stories
agree. The hero is summoned by one of the dames of Faery
who is filled with love for him ; the land lies over the water ;
it produces magic inexhaustible food ; its inhabitants are
invisible when they like. Bran and Cuchulinn's Sick Bed
further agree in connecting Manannan with this land, and in
such minor points as insistence upon the trees in which are
found the sweet singing birds. The differences seem far greater.
Laeg and Cuchulinn penetrate to the Otherworld and return
thence scathless ; the idea of deathlessness is not even men-
tioned, let alone insisted upon in connection with the land of
the magic dames ; on the contrary, Cuchulinn slays many of
Labraid's enemies who must be assumed to be of the same
race as the king himself, and so far from the absence of strife
being a distinguishing feature of this Elysium, Labraid's martial
prowess is extolled in the most sanguinary terms. Taking
the last of these points first, I think we cannot fail to see the
trace of an entirely different conception of the Otherworld from
that of IJran, a conception which may be equally old on Irish
ground, but may also be due to the influence of the Scandi-
navian Valhalla as elaborated in the later stages of the
Viking religion ; I shall presently cite a still more remarkable
illustration of this, the warlike as opposed to the peaceful
ideal of Otherworld happiness. The absence of reference to
the deathlessness of Fann and her kin, may, assuming the
writer thought of them as immortal, be set down to the fact
that it was taken for granted, and that in a story the object
of which is not, as in Bran, t(; extol the delights of the Other-
world, there was no need to say anything on the subject. In
the same way Cuchulinn's immunity from death or old
age on his return to earth may be claimed as due to his half-
i6o CUCHULINN'S SICK BED
divine nature, for his father Lug, according to the oldest
and most widely spread account, was of the same race as
Manannan and Fann ;i or, again, the year's death-in-life
condition in which the dames from Faery leave him after their
first visit, and the ' long time without drink or food ' he
passes after Fann has quitted him might be looked upon as
the last trace of such an incident as Nechtan's fate. This
could not, however, apply to his charioteer Laeg, and there
is besides no trace in the story of that supernatural lapse of
time which is such a marked feature in Bran.
We may then regard Cuchulinn's Sick Bed as containing
either the germ of that conception of the Otherworld which
we find, later, highly elaborated in Bran and Connla, or as
presenting that conception in a weakened and incoherent
form that has suffered foreign influence. Before deciding
which of these two explanations is the correct one, other tales
must be examined.
In any case, however, it should be noted that some differ-
ence there was bound to be between Cuchulinn's Sick Bed
and Bran in the treatment of such a theme as the visit to the
Otherworld. The main outlines of the Cuchulinn saga were
probably fixed before the episode was worked into it ; the
fate of the hero could not be essentially modified ; if any-
thing had to go to the wall it would be the logical consistency
of the episodic theme. We are met, I think, with similar
artistic necessities and similar modifications of the original
conception in the group of tales known technically as Imrama
or Oversea Voyages.
^ The v-.nous stories of Cuchulinn's birth are translated into French,
D'Arbois de Jubainville, Epopee Celtique, 22-39. Cf. also Zimmer, LU.
420-425, and my remarks on the whole incident. Transactions of the Second
International Folk-Lore Congress.
CHAPTER IV
EARLY ROMANTIC USE OF THE CONCEPTION OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD
The imrama or Oversea Voyage literature — The Navigatio S. Brendani —
The Voyage of Mafelduin — Professor Zimmer's views concerning the
development of this literature — The points of contact between Maelduin
and Bran : {a) the wonderland of the amorous queen, {p) the island of
imitation — Summary of these episodes in Maelduin, comparison with Bran,
discussion of relation between the two works — The portion common to
both works independent of each other, similarity due to use of the same
material — Featiu-es common to all the stories hitherto considered.
Of all classes of ancient Irish mythic fiction this is the
most famous and the one which has most directly affected
the remainder of West European literature. For the Voyage
of Saint Brandan, which touched so profoundly the imagina-
tion of mediaeval man, which was translated into every
European tongue, which drove forth adventurers into the
Western Sea, and was one of the contributory causes of the
discovery of the New World, — the Voyage of Saint Brandan
is but the latest and a definitely Christian example of a ge7ire
of story-telling which had already flourished for centuries in
Ireland, when it seemed good to an unknown writer to dress
the old- half-Pagan marvels in orthodox monkish garb, and
thus start them afresh on their triumphal march through the
literature of the world.
The imrama literature has been investigated by Professor
I.
i62 MAELDUIN
Zimmer with all his wonted acuteness, subtlety, and erudition.
Other experts do not accept all his results ; I myself fail to
follow him in every detail. But the main results of his study
seem to me assured, and as all the documents are accessible
in English or Latin, it is open to any reader to control his
statement of the case and satisfy himself as to the correctness
of his judgment.^
The following tales belonging to this class of romance
have come down to us in Irish, out of the seven, at least,
which were known to the compiler of the great story list
preserved in the Book of Leinster : The Voyage of
Maelduin, The Voyage of the Sons of O'Corra, The Voyage
of Snegdus and Mac Riagla (not mentioned in the Book
of Leinster list) ; and in Latin, the Navigatio S. Brendani,
of which a thirteenth-century Irish adaptation exists as .
part of a more extensive life of the Saint. Professor
Zimmer argues, and proves, I think, conclusively, that the
Voyage of Maelduin is the oldest of existing tales, that it
was the model upon which and the quarry out of which the
later imrajna, and notably Saint Brandan's Voyage, were built.
It had, however, been preceded by the Voyage of the Sons
of O'Corra, the original version of which, now lost, has been
replaced by a thirteenth-century rifacimento, save the open-
ing portion, which he thus looks upon as being the oldest
^ Professor Zimmer's article is the one referred to in the preface, supra,
p. lo6 ; Mr. Whitley Stokes has edited and translated the Voyage of
Maelduin, R.C. ix. x., the Voyage of Snegdus and Mac Riagla,
R. C, ix., the Voyage of the Sons of O'Corra, R.C. xiv. An
adaptation of Maelduin and the O'Corras may be found in the second
edition of Joyce's Old Celtic Romances. There is also a French version
of Maelduin, D'Arbois de Jubainville, Epopee Celtique, 449-501. An
excellent summary of the latest research devoted to the Irish imaginary
voyages may be found in M. Boser's article, Romania, xxiii. 432.
MAELDUIN 163
fragment of this genre of story-telling. This original Voyage
of the O'Corras took shape, he holds, in the early eighth
century, as he ascribes Maelduin's Voyage 'at the latest to
the same century' (p. 789). He considers that one of the
component elements of the imrama literature was precisely
descriptions of the Happy Otherworld, as we find them in
Bran and Connla. This conclusion must be tested with all
possible rigour ; if incorrect, it matters little, so far as the date
of Bran is concerned, whether Professor Zimmer has under-
or over-rated the age of Maelduin. Accepting, as I do fully,
his contention that Maelduin presents the earliest form of the
episodes common to all these stories, it is to this tale that I
shall restrict my comparison with Bran.i
Maelduin's Voyage.
A brief outline of the story is necessary for the intelligence
of the points to be discussed. Maelduin sets forth oversea
to seek his father's murderers, and, by a wizard's advice, he
is to take with him seventeen companions, neither more nor
less. But at the last moment his three foster-brothers, who
have not been included among the seventeen, clamour to
accompany him, and, when refused, cast themselves into the
sea and swim after the vessel. Maelduin has pity upon them
and takes them in, but this disregard of the wizard's injunc-
tion brings its punishment, and it is only after long wander-
ings, the visit of some thirty unknown islands, and the death
or abandonment of the three foster-brothers, that Maelduin is
able to fulfil his quest and return to Ireland.
* At the same time I would emphasise the fact that the present version
of Maelduin is composite, and has certainly been added to and interpolated,
probably down to the end of the tenth century. Ail dates based upon our
text are therefore open to doubt.
i64 THE AMOROUS QUEEN
There are two main points of contact between the Voyages
of Bran and Maelduin. Both describe a land dwelt in by an
amorous queen who welcomes the mortal visitor, and who is
most reluctant to let him depart ; both also describe a land
which has this peculiarity that the mortal who lands upon it
is forced to do exactly as its inhabitants, and seems to lose
at once all knowledge of or care for his former companions.
Both episodes must be fully discussed.
The Island of the Amorous Queen.
The twenty-seventh island at which Maelduin and his com-
panions touch is large, and on it a great tableland, heather-
less, grassy, and smooth. And near the sea a fortress, large,
high, and strong, and a great house therein, adorned, and with
good couches. Seventeen grown-up girls are there preparing
a bath. When the wanderers see this Maelduin feels sure the
bath is for them. But there rides up a dame with a bordered
purple mantle, gloves, with gold embroidery, on her hands, on
her feet adorned sandals. She alights, enters the fortress, and
goes to bathe. One of the damsels then invites the seafarers ;
they too enter, and all bathe. Food and drink follow, and at
nightfall the eighteen couples pair off, Maelduin sleeping with
the queen. On the morrow she urges them to stay : ' age will
not fall upon you, but the age that ye have attained. And
lasting life ye shall have always ; and what came to you last
night shall come to you every night without any labour.'
Maelduin asks who she is, and she answers, wife of the king
of the island, to whom she bore seventeen daughters ; at her
husband's death she had taken the kingship of the island ;
and unless she go to judge the folk every day what happened
the night before would not happen again. Maelduin and his
men stay three months, and it seemed to them that those
THE AMOROUS QUEEN . 165
three months were three years. The men murmur and urge
Maelduin to leave, and reproach him with the love he bears
the queen, and one day, when she is at the judging, they take
out the boat and would sail off. But she rides after them,
and flings a clew which Maelduin catches, and it cleaves to
his hand ; by this means she draws them back to land. Thrice
this happens, and the men accuse Maelduin of catching the
clew purposely ; he tells off another man to mind the clew,
whose hand, when touched by it, is cut off by one of the sea-
farers, and thus they escape.
An obvious variant of the visit to the wonderland of fair
damsels is to be found in the sixteenth and seventeenth adven-
tures. The first describes a lofty island, wherein are four fences,
of gold, silver, brass, and crystal, and in the four divisions,
kings, queens, warriors, and maidens. A maiden comes to meet
them, and brings them on land and gives them food, and
whatever taste was pleasing to any one he would find therein ;
liquor, also, out of a little vessel, so that they sleep three days
and three nights. And when they awake they are in their boat
at sea, and nowhere do they see island or maiden. The next
island has a fortress with a brazen door, and a bridge of glass,
and when they go upon this bridge they fall down backwards.
A woman comes out of the fortress, pail in hand, takes water,
and returns to the fortress. ' A housekeeper for Maelduin,'
say his men, but she scorns them, and when they strike the
brazen door it makes a sweet and soothing music, which
sends them to sleep till the morrow. Three days and three
nights were they in that wise. ' On the fourth day she comes,
beautiful verily, wearing a white mantle with a circlet of gold
round her hair, a brooch of silver with studs of gold in her
mantle, and a filmy silken smock next her white skin.' She
greets each man by his name : ' it is long since your coming
i66 THE AMOROUS QUEEN
here hath been known and understood.' She takes them into
the house, she gives them food, every savour that each de-
sired he would find therein. His men then urge Maelduin to
offer himself to her, and propose to her that she should show
affection to him and sleep with him. But, saying that she
knows not and has never known what sin was, she leaves
them, promising an answer for the morrow. When they
awake they are in their boat on a crag, and they see not the
island, nor the fortress, nor the lady, nor the place wherein
they had been.
The frame of Maelduin's Voyage is so elastic that the in-
clusion in one narrative of variant forms of the same episode
need not surprise us. That successive story-tellers, or tran-
scribers, should adopt this device to increase the extent, and, in
the opinion of former days, the value of their wares, is con-
sonant with all we know of pre-mediaeval and mediaeval
literature. We are justified in making use of the three versions
to recover the idea of the damsel-land, as it existed in the
minds of the original author of Maelduin, and of the con-
tinuators, to whom is probably due much of the work as it
now exists.^ It is substantially the same as in Bran's Voyage,
The mortal visitor is welcomed to the same perpetual round of
simple sensuous delights ; he shall not age, he shall not decay,
he shall have the savour of whatever food pleases him, he
shall enjoy love, in undiminished vigour, ' without labour ' ;
the supernatural nature of the land is apparent, it withdraws
itself from mortal ken in a night, the mother of seventeen
grown-up daughters is still young and desirable. ^
^ The fact that some of the incidents and accessories may be additions
to the original account is, in this case, of comparatively little importance,
as they must equally be drawn from the same traditional storehouse.
^ Zimmer, 328, would account for this form of the episode by the
THE AMOROUS QUEEN 167
For purposes of comparison with Bran it is, however,
necessary to restrict ourselves to the twenty-seventh adventure,
which certainly formed part of the original work, a certainty
that cannot be felt as regards the sixteenth and seventeenth
adventures. A moment's speculation may be allowed as to
whether this latter, the adventure of the chaste island queen,
represents a form of the episode as shaped in the mind of a
story-teller imbued with the Christian ideal of chastity. This
explanation is by no means so obviously the right one as might
seem at first blush. Chastity taboos occur in other bodies of
mythic legend uninfluenced by Christianity, and the mere
fact that this conception survives in the living folk-tale,^
the native elements and development of which are so
largely non-Christian, raises a strong presumption that we
have here a genuine variant, and not merely a Christian
modification, of the mortals' visit to the lady of the Other-
world.
Comparing, then, the adventures of Maelduin and Bran in
the Land of Women, we must not be influenced by the fact
that the supernatural nature of this land is far more emphasised
by the latter than by the former. This arises, in part, from
the exigencies of the story. The teller of Maelduin's fate had
to bring his hero back to Ireland, and the fact that his return
is scathless thus loses much of its weight. On the other
hand, the conceptions of supernatural lapse of time, and of the
inevitable fate awaiting the mortal on his return to earth, are
so closely united, that if one is found, I cannot but think the
hypothesis of Virgilian influence. The narrator knew vaguely the story
of Dido and Aeneas, and shaped his version accordingly.
^ Cf. Campbell's No. x., The Three Soldiers, and my remarks, Grail,
ch. ix. Cf. also infra, ch. xii., the Scandinavian story of Thorkill's
voyage to the Olhervvorld.
i68 THE AMOROUS QUEEN
other must have been present. And it will hardly be denied
that a trace of the supernatural lapse of time exists (though
expressed in such a way as to deliberately invert the concep-
tion) in the words : ' it seemed to them those three months
were three years. '^ Nor, again, reasoning on the hypothesis
(by no means to be set aside as unworthy all discussion)
that Bran's Voyage is a simple literary development from
the episode in Maelduin, is it easy to understand why its
author should have amplified it by the addition of the fatal
return, nor whence he derived this conception , nor, indeed,
why he should have specially picked out this episode from
among many others of equal interest and charm in Maelduin's
Voyage? This argument, it may be said, cuts both ways.
Meanwhile, it is sufficient to note that in so far as this
incident is concerned, the episode in Maelduin appears to be
further removed from the original form than that found in
Bran. This impression is strengthened by other considera-
tions. The incident of the magic clew must appeal to every
reader as simpler and more straightforward in Bran. It is
natural that the welcoming queen should throw out a line to
the hesitating visitors ; natural that they, whose object it is to
reach her land, should grasp it. There is, on the other hand,
something outre, something betraying deflection from the
natural development of the idea, in the use of the magic clew
as a lasso to ' rope ' the runaways. Another mark of the
secondary nature of the episode in Maelduin is furnished, to
my mind, by the horse-riding queen, who here takes the place
^ True, otl ix instances of this inversion may be cited. See Hartland,
Science of Fairy Tales, ch. vii.-ix. But I nevertheless believe that the
incident as found in Maelduin presents a weakened and altered form of
the original conception.
THE AMOROUS QUEEN 169
of Manannan, figured as the rider of the glistening sea-
horses.^
These various considerations justify, I think, the conclusion
that the presentment of the Land of Women, in Maelduin, is
later in date, and less close to the original form, than in Bran.
Before passing from this episode, it may be well to note that
part of the gear of the Happy Otherworld is found elsewhere
in Maelduin's Voyage ; thus, on the seventh island, the sea-
farers find three magic apples — ' for forty nights each of the
three apples sufficed them;' again, on the tenth island,
they meet with the same apples, and ' alike did they forbid
hunger and thirst from them.' The thirty-first adventure gives
us, too, a glimpse of that land, unequalled, even in the
rich body of Celtic romance, for haunting suggestiveness
of mystery. * Around the island was a fiery rampart, and it
was wont ever to turn around and about it. Now, in the
side of that rampart was an open door, and as it came opposite
them in its turning course, they beheld through it the island,
and all therein, and its indwellers, even human beings,
beautiful, numerous, wearing richly-dight garments, and feast-
ing with golden vessels in their hands. The wanderers heard
their ale music, and for long did they gaze upon the marvel,
delightful as it seemed to them.' Here will be noted the
description of the fortunate beings as ' human ' ; a sign, I take
it, that their original nature and connections were no longer
present to the mind of the story-teller.
* It may be urged that the mention of riding indicates a post-Viking
date, not only for this episode, but also for the texts in which Manannan
is figured as the rider of the ocean steeds. I suspect that in both cases
riding has been substituted for driving by the last scribe. Nor must
the riding test be applied too rigidly as a means of dating a particular
version.
I70 THE ISLE OF IMITATION
In the other episode which the two tales have in common,
the mysterious island, the mortal visitor to which is constrained
to imitate the bearing of its inhabitants, the case in favour of
the earlier nature of Bran is by no means so clear. On the
contrary it is meaningless in this story, whereas it forms an
integral and necessary part of Maelduin.
Three companions having joined Maelduin's ship in despite
of the wizard's warning, all must be got rid of. The first
perishes on the tenth island in this way ; the seafarers come
to a fort surrounded by a great white rampart, wherein nought
is to be seen but a small cat, leaping from one to another of
four stone pillars. Brooches and torques of gold and silver
are in the fort, the rooms are full of white quilts and shining
garments, an ox is roasting, flitches are hanging up, great
vessels stand filled with intoxicating liquor. Maelduin asks
the cat if all this is for them. It looks at him and goes on
playing. The seafarers dine and drink, and drink and sleep.
As they are about to depart, Maelduin's third foster-brother
proposes to carry off a necklace, and despite his leader's
warning seizes it. Then the cat leaps through him like a
fiery arrow, burns him so that he becomes ashes, and goes
back to its pillar.
The fifteenth island they come to is large and full of human
beings, black in body and raiment, and resting not from wail-
ing. An unlucky lot falls upon one of Maelduin's two foster-
brothers to land on the island. He at once becomes a
comrade of theirs, weeping along with them. Two of the
wanderers start to bring him off, but they also fall under the
spell. Maelduin sends four others, and bids them look not
at the land nor the air, and put garments round their noses
and mouths and breathe not the air of the land and take not
their eyes off their comrades. In this way the two who
THE ISLE OF IMITATION 171
followed the foster-brother are rescued, but he is left
behind.
The thirtieth island has a great level plain, and on it a great
multitude playing and laughing without cessation. Lots are
cast and fall on the third of Maelduin's foster-brothers. When
he touches land he begins to play and laugh continually.
After waiting a long time for him they leave him.
Evidently these three adventures stand in organic connec-
tion with the wizard's injunction. Whatever else may be
interpolation, these stood in the original draft of the story.
Equally evident is the fact that paragraph 61 of Bran's Voy-
age stands in no connection with the remainder of the tale,
and is in fact a pure excrescence. Yet, can we look upon it
as an interpolation from Maelduin or some other now lost
imram ? There are not wanting signs that here, as in other
parts of Maelduin, the story has suffered change. It is note-
worthy that in the first and last cases, it is each time stated
to be Maelduin's third foster-brother who is the victim. This
may be inadvertence on the part of the narrator, or a mere
scribal error, but it may also bear witness to a time when only
one companion had to be sacrificed. Far more significant in
this connection is the fact that the first victim is slain, the
others merely left behind. The first episode wears a far more
archaic aspect than the others. I shall have occasion to cite
descriptions of the Othcrworld, both in Celtic and non-Celtic
mythic romance, which present analogies to this solitary
palace full of riches, guarded only by a mysterious animal,
and to insist upon what may be called the theft-taboo as an
essential element of visits to the Otherworld. It may there-
fore be surmised that the author of Maelduin, desirous for some
reason of triplicating the original incident of the comrade left
behind in the Olherworld, in punishment of some offence
172 BRAN AND MAELDUIN
against its laws, made use of the Isle of Joy, and gave it a
companion in the Isle of Wailing. But this hypothesis, in
favour of which several other reasons could be urged, in no
ways accounts for the incident in the Voyage of Bran. That
we must be content to look upon either as a mere fragment
of a once complete episode, the true significance of which has
been lost, or as a late and meaningless interpolation.^
Relation between Bran and Maelduin.
In neither of these two cases, then, are we warranted in
postulating a direct literary relation between the two tales.
In this, as in the other features they possess in common, the
similarities are due, not to direct borrowing one from the
other, but to usage of a common stock of story-material.
And if this is so it matters comparatively little whether the
actual composition of our present Bran precede or postdate
that of Maelduin. The fact that in the latter certain incidents
have lost their pristine form, preserved in Bran, vouches
better for the archaic character of this tale than any other
fact that could be adduced. Time is required for incidents
such as these to adapt themselves to new conventions of
story-telling, to change their character, as we have every
reason' to suspect has been the case in Maelduin's Voyage,
Before such a conception as that of the Happy Otherworld
could have become the vague commonplace we find it in
Maelduin, it must have counted ages of acceptance and
^ It might be contended that the two islands of wailing and of joy are
loans from Christian legend, the one standing for heaven the other for
hell, and thr i. they have been romanticised by the story-teller to whom we
owe our present text of Maelduin. Cf. too infra, chap, xii., for a com-
parison of certain features in this portion of Maelduin with the Scandi-
navian story of Thorkill's journey to the Otherworld.
BRAN AND MAELDUIN 173
artistic handling. But is it true that this conception is found
in Maelduin in a later stage of development than in Bran
or Connla? If the facts already cited are not held of
sufficient weight to support the contention, consideration of
the main difference, hitherto left unnoted, between the two
classes of tales will, I think, enable us to decide the question
definitely. Bran and Connla and the Sick Bed of Cuchulinn
are concerned with persons and conditions, only to be found
in Gaelic romance in the special aspect under which they
present themselves to us ; but Maelduin, launched forth as it
were on the high seas, wanders into a nameless, dateless,
undetermined region which has but few points of contact,
and those indefinite, with the remainder of Gaelic legend.
Yet it is not the indefiniteness of the folk-lore protoplasm
out of which myth and heroic saga develop by selection and
individualisation of certain elements, but the indefiniteness
of an artificial literary genre, which has discarded the mould
into which the imagination of the race had previously been
cast, with a view to acquiring greater freedom and increased
capacities. In the result the author of IMaelduin and his
fellow story-tellers were fully justified. Imaginings which might
have failed of acceptance, had they remained purely Gaelic in
circumstance, won through them entrance into the literature
of the world. But as regards the development of Gaelic
mythic literature, the imraiua of which Maelduin is the type
are on a bypath and not on the main road ; if we follow this
down we come upon works which continue the tradition of
Bran and of Connla ; we remain in a world of mythic fantasy
in which the imratna have little part, with which Bran and
Connla are indissolubly connected and the consideration of
which must now engage our attention.
CHAPTER V
the conception of the happy otherworld as the
god's land
The wonderland of the hollow hill— The home of the Tuatha De Danann—
The Tochmarc Etaine, or Wooing of Etain, summary of story — Relation
of the hollow hill to the Oversea Elysium — Exposition and criticism of
Professor Zimmer's views — Laegaire Mac Crimthainn's visit to Faery,
summary of story, discussion of date, modification of older conception,
possible influence of Scandinavian Walhalla.
The Tuatha De Danann,
All the variants of our theme hitherto laid before the reader
have this, at least, in common. The mysterious wonderland
lies across the water. But this is not the only form which the
conception of a happy land of delight dwelt in by beings
immortally young has assumed in Irish mythic romance. In
tales dating from the eighth century at the very latest, tales the
incidents, personages and spirit of which animate Irish legend
for the thousand years that follow, and still form one of the
staples of Irish peasant belief, we find a tribe of superhuman
beings whose abiding dwelling-place is the fairy mound, the
hollow hill. We have already met these beings. They are
the Tuatha De Danann of the annals, the Folk of the Goddess
Dana, who held the sovereignty of Ireland prior to the arrival
of the sons of Mil, by whom they were dispossessed of
earthly s^vay, Manannan and Fann and Lug, the father of
174
THE WOOING OF ETAIN 175
Cuchulinn, are of this race. They are the ' fairies ' of the
modern Irish peasant, who calls them by the same name as
did the story-teller of Connla a thousand years ago : {aes) side,
the folk of the mound.
These beings are connected with the oversea Elysium. In
the description of their land, which though in Ireland is not
of mortal Ireland, there is much that recalls the Land of
Women or Boadach's realm. Yet marked as are the re-
semblances, the differences are equally marked. Before dis-
cussing the relations between these two presentments of the
Otherworld it may be well to cite a text which is of equal
antiquity with those we have already discussed and in which
a common kinship of colour and tone exists in a very marked
degree.
The Wooing of Etain.
The Tochmarc Efaine, or Wooing of Etain, is one of the
stories preserved by the Book of the Dun Cow, and which, if
Professor Zimmer be right, represents, in the shape under
which it has come down to us, a fusion of older and dis-
cordant versions made in the early eleventh century. Linguis-
tically it has the same marks of antiquity as the stories of
Bran and Connla, in other words, it may go back to the eighth
or possibly the seventh century. The tale runs thus : ^—
Etain, originally the wife of Mider, one of the Tuatha De,
is reborn as a mortal and weds Eochaid Airem, high king of
Ireland. Mider still loves her, and when she refuses to follow
him he games for her with her husband and wins. But Etain
' The Tochmarc Etain is summarised by Professor Zimmer, LU. 5S5-
594, by M. d'Arbois de Jubainvilie, Cycle Mythologique, 311 et seq., and
by O'Curry, MC. iii. 190-194. In rendering the verse, I have compared
the English, French, and German versions, and the whole has been
revised by Professor Meyer.
176 THE WOOING OF ETAIN
is still unwilling to leave Eochaid, and to decide her he sings
the following song : —
'Woman of the white skin, wilt thou come with me to the wonder-
land where reigns sweet-blended song ; there primrose
blossoms on the hair ; snowfair the bodies from top to toe.
There, neither turmoil nor silence ; white the teeth there, black
the eyebrows ; a delight of the eye the throng of our hosts ;
on every cheek the hue of the foxglove.
Though fair the sight of Erin's plains, hardly will they seem so
after you have once known the Great Plain.
Heady to you the ale of Erin, but headier the ale of the Great
Land. A wonder of a land the land of which I speak, no
youth there grows to old age.
Streams gentle and sweet flow through that land, the choicest
mead and wine. Handsome (?) people without blemish ;
conception without sin, without crime.
We behold and are not beheld. The darkness produced by
Adam's fall hides us from being numbered.
When thou comest, woman, to my strong folk, a crown shall deck
thy brow — fresh swine's flesh and beer, new milk as a drink
shall be given thee by me, O white-skinned woman.'
Not only will it be noticed is the presentment of this
Elysium substantially the same as in the stories of Bran and
Connla, not only is there the same insistence upon a never-end-
ing round of simple, vivid, sensuous delights, but the Christian
element is introduced in the same casual way, forming an
excrescence upon rather than an integral portion of the text.
Here we have obviously the same ideal of the Happy Other-
world as in Bran and Connla, affected too in its ultimate
presentment by the same historic factors. ^ For the purposes
of this investigation we must determine if possible the relation
1 There is likewise the same connection of the two conceptions of the
Happy Otherworld and of Rebirth.
ZIMMER ON THE 'SID' BELIEF 177
between these varying forms of one conception, that which
locates it oversea and that which places it in the hollow hill.
Professor Zimmer's Account of the 'Sid' Belief.
The question has come before Professor Zimmer, and he
has discussed it with his wonted acuteness.^ He has little
doubt as to the correct explanation. The Irish Pantheon
was once as fully organised as that of the Germanic races, it
comprised beneficent and malevolent beings, gifted with the
attributes and characteristics which distinguish the immortal,
whether god or demon, from the mortal. Christianity came
and made a relatively rapid conquest of Ireland ; the male-
volent beings of the older mythology sunk to giants and
monsters, the beneficent ones became dei terreni, as the Book
of Armagh phrases it, local, on the whole friendly powers,
having their dwellings in the mounds and hillocks ; the life
they led in the hollow hill was gradually enriched with every
attribute and characteristic the fancy of the. race had
bestowed upon their former dwelling-places, and notably
upon the oversea Elysium ; this transference antedates our
oldest texts such as Connla or Cuchulinn's Sick Bed, in which
we find a curious mixture of the two conceptions without any
recognition of the inconsistency at times involved.
I cannot altogether share Professor Zimmer's opinion. I
grant the confusion existing in our present texts — thus the
maiden who summons Connla and carries him off oversea,
speaks of her kindred as aes side ; thus Fann and Liban are
addressed in Cuchulinn's Sick Bed as 'women of the hill,'
and they too dwell across the water. I grant the incon-
sistency involved, for whilst in the descriptions of the oversea
Elysium the absence of strife and contention, of death and
' Pp. 274 ei seq.
M
lyS ZIMMER'S THEORY DISCUSSED
pain are most strongly insisted upon, the Tuatha De Danann
share the passions of mortal men ; they have their wars and
contentions, death is possible amongst them. But I do not
think it necessary to argue that the one conception must
have preceded the other, and that there was any conscious
transference of attributes from the one to the other. Assum-
ing for the moment that we have before us varying visions of
a god's land, is it not evident that there must be an inevitable
sameness about them, that no matter how definitely they may
be localised their staple must consist of vague and con-
ventional descriptive commonplaces ? Assuming again that
divine personages are the subjects of these descriptions, need
it surprise us to find different dwelling-places assigned to
them ? Finally, if the sanctity of the fairy mound be a product
of the confusion caused by the introduction of Christianity,
why, may we ask, should it have assumed this special form ?
Why should the gods have withdrawn themselves within the
hills unless these had already been noted haunts of theirs?
The answer to this question involves fundamental problems of
the history of religious belief. Without at this point discussing
questions upon which some light will I hope be shed in the
course of the present investigation, it may suffice to say that
two main elements probably enter into the side belief: the one,
veneration paid to great natural features, mountains, rivers,
or other, originally conceived of as animated by a life of their
own, secondarily as being the home of beings wiser and more
powerful than man ; the other, respect and worship paid to
the funeral mound where dwell the shades of the ancestors.^
1 Many scholars would transpose my 'originally' and 'secondarily,'
but I think there is clear evidence that the worship of great natural
objects, as such, preceded that paid to them as dwelling-places of dead
men.
ZIMMER'S THEORY DISCUSSED 179
It is conceivable that the Irish had progressed beyond
either stage, had reached the cult of departmental gods
of nature, to use Mr. Lang's happy phrase; possible also
that the older elements, temporarily relegated to the back-
ground during the sway of the organised nature-mythology,
reasserted themselves in the popular minds once this latter
had yielded before the advent of Christianity. In this sense
Professor Zimmer's account of the development that took
place would, in a measure, be correct, but only in so far as it
is clearly borne in mind that what may be called the earthly
presentment of the god's land is in origin and essence as old
if not older than that which placed it in an oversea Elysium.
If this is so, pictures of the side life in Irish legend, whilst
perhaps affected by the oversea stage of mythic fancy, are in
themselves of equal antiquity, and possibly more archaic
nature.
The foregoing paragraphs may seem to tacitly assume that
which this study purposes to investigate, the mythic non-
Christian origin of the descriptions of the Happy Otherworld.
In laying before the reader texts largely concerned with the
mysterious people of Faery and their dwelling-places, it was,
however, impossible to avoid mention of Professor Zimmer's
hypothesis of their relation to stories of the Bran type, and
criticism of that hypothesis in so far as it seemed defective.
To supplement the two views sketched above, which are one
in essentials, though they differ in accidents, a third possibility
may be mentioned. The belief in the side^ in the Tuatha De
Danann, which is, substantially, as I have said, the fairy belief
of the modern Irish peasant, may be a product of that contact
of the Irish folk-mind with the hardy and aggressive paganism
of Scandinavian invaders of the ninth and tenth centuries.
Extravagant as such an hypothesis may seem, it should not be
i8o LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN
discarded without a hearing.^ Until further notice I do not
wish to prejudge the question, and resume my citation of the
texts.
Laegaire mac Crimthainn in Faery,
Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady has edited and translated,^
from a fifteenth century ms., the Book of Lismore, a piece
entitled Laegaire mac Crimthainn's visit to the fairy realm of
Mag Mell, of which a text is also found in the Book of
Leinster, but without this heading. The tale tells how as the
men of Connaught were assembled near Lough Naneane (the
lake of birds) under their king Crimthann Cass, they behold
a man coming towards them through the mist, wearing a five-
fold crimson mantle, in his hand two five-barbed darts, a gold-
rimmed shield slung on him, at his belt a gold-hilted sword,
golden-yellow hair streaming behind him. He declares his
name and errand in answer to the greeting of Laegaire, the
king's son ; he is Fiachna mac Retach of the men of the sid,
his wife has been carried off by Goll, son of Dolb, seven battles
he has fought to win her back, and he is come to seek mortal
aid. He sings these verses :
' Most beautiful of plains is the Plain of Two Mists ^
On which a host oi sid men full of valour
Stir up pools of blood.
Not far hence is it.
^ This theory has only been vaguely hinted at by Professor Zimmer,
Nennius, 222. Cf. my remarks, Folk Lore, iv. 382.
2 Silva Gadelica, 290. He omits the verse, the translation of which I
owe to Professor Meyer,
^ This, according to H. 3, 18, p. 709, was the ancient name of what is
now Lough Naneane in County Roscommon (boi dno ic foraim for enlaith
Moige Da Cheo i. Loch na n-En aniii). — [K. M.]
LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN i8i
We have drawn foaming red blood
From the stately bodies of nobles.
Over their corpses countless women folk
Shed swift tears and make moan.'
The hosts of Faery are thus described :
' In well-devised battle array,
Ahead of their fair chieftain
They march amidst blue spears,
White curly-headed bands.
They scatter the battalions of the foe.
They ravage every land I have attacked,
Splendidly they march to combat
An impetuous, distinguished, avenging host !
No wonder though their strength be great.
Sons of kings and queens are one and all.
On all their heads are
Beautiful golden-yellow manes.
With smooth comely bodies,
With bright blue-starred eyes,
With pure crystal^ teeth.
With thin red lips.
Good they are at man-slaying.
At all time melodious are they,
Quick-witted in song-making,
Skilled at playingyfcz^//^//.'
Laegaire determines to aid the fairy chieftain, and followed
by fifty fighting men dives down into the loch. They find a
strong place and an embattled company. Fighting ensues, and
they win to the fort of Mag Mell, where the lady is imprisoned.
Laegaire calls upon the defenders of the fort to surrender her,
^ glainib Fes., rc^A glamidili. — [K. M.]
i82 LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN
' your king is fallen, your chiefs are slain,' says he, and he pro-
mises them life in exchange for the queen. So it was done,
and as she came out she pronounced that which is known as
the Lament of the daughter of Eochaid the Dumb :
' Hateful day on which weapons are washed
For the sake of the dear dead body of Goll son of Dolb !
He whom I loved, he who loved me.
Laegaire Liban— little he cares !
Goll I loved, son of Dolb,
Weapons by him were hacked and split,
By the will of God I now go out
To Fiachna mac Retach.'
Laegaire returns with her and lays her hand in Fiachna's,
and that night Fiachna's daughter, Sun-tear, is coupled with
Laegaire, and with his fifty warriors fifty other women, and to
a year's end they abide there. Laegaire would then return
to seek tidings of their own land, and Fiachna enjoins ' if ye
would come back take with you horses, but by no means
dismount from off them.' They go then, and come upon
Connaught assembled and mourning for them. 'Approach
us not,' cries Laegaire, 'we are here but to bid you farewell'
In vain Crimthann pleads ' leave me not, the royal power of
the three Connaughts shall be thine, their silver and their
gold, their horses and their bridles, their fair women shall be
at thy will, only leave me not.' Laegaire makes answer :
'A marvel this, O Crimthann Cass,
When it rains 'tis beer that falls !
An hundred thousand the number of each host.
They go from kingdom to kingdom.
Noble the sweet-sounding music of the sidl
From kingdom to kingdom one goes,
LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN 183
Drinking from burnished cups,
Holding converse with the loved one.
My wife, my own unto me.
Is Sun-tear, Fiachna's daughter;
A wife, too, as I shall tell thee,
There is for every man of my fifty.
We've brought from the fort of the Pleasant Plain
Thirty caldrons, thirty drinking-horns.
We've brought the plaint that chants the sea,
Daughter of Eochaid the Dumb.
A marvel this, O Crimthann Cass,
I was master of a blue sword.
One night of the nights of the sid,
I would not give for all thy kingdom.'
So he turns from them, and enters again into the sid, where
with Fiachna he exercises joint kingly rule, nor is he as yet
come out of it.
The language of this tale is comparatively modern, accord-
ing to Professor Meyer ; the poems as we have them may,
he thinks, be compositions of the tenth century. I need
not repeat my contention that a text may be found in a
twelfth century MS. wholly written in Middle Irish, and yet
in reality be much older. But the presumption raised by the
aspect of the language in favour of the comparative lateness
of this text is borne out by other considerations. I have
already instanced the use of the horse for riding purposes on
land as probably the result of the Viking invasions, and I
would further note the fierce, warlike tone of the first stanzas
descriptive of sid life, as well as the description of the fairy
host, which might well be a picture taken from life of a Viking
band. On the other hand, Laegaire's account of the delights
i84 LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN
for which he is ready to forswear his heritage is, in part,
substantially the same as in the other texts that have passed
under the reader's eye. The same vivid but somewhat
monotonous realisation of physical enjoyment, touched here
also, as elsewhere, by the abiding delight of the Gaelic Celts
in the charm of music, is once more presented to us, and we
catch in the mention of that plaint of the sea. Dumb Eochaid's
daughter, in the name Sun-tear given to the fairy king's
daughter, glimpses of what is apparently a purely mythical
world. Certain points of resemblance with Cuchulinn's Sick
Bed are noteworthy — the same insistence upon the warlike
side of Otherworld life, the wife who mourns the lost lover,
but returns, not unwillingly, to the husband who willingly takes
her back. One marked discrepancy between the tale of
Laegaire and the previously described visits to the Otherworld
remains to be noted. This mysterious land of delights lies
not, as in Bran, Connla, Cuchulinn's Sick Bed, and the
imrama, across the sea, nor, as in Etain's Wooing, within the
hollow hill, but beneath the waves. At first blush this appears
to be a secondary conception derived from that which pictures
the marvel land as lying beyond the western sea, but as we
shall see later this is by no means certain.
If certain features in this and in Cuchulinn's Sick Bed leave
the impression on the mind that older, purely Irish conceptions
of the Otherworld mingle here with ideas and descriptions
derived partly from the Scandinavian Valhalla, partly from
historical conditions which must have obtained in Ireland
during the Viking period, it should be borne in mind, firstly,
that the tendency of both texts as compared with Connla or
Etain's Wooing is to humanise the Otherworld by minimising
as much as possible the differences between its inhabitants
and mortal men, a tendency one can hardly imagine as due
SCANDINAVIAN INFLUENCE 185
to familiarity with the highly systematised Scandinavian
mythology ; secondly, that the warlike, and what may be
called the abduction elements, were as potent in pre-Viking
as in Viking Ireland, the only difference being that strife was
internecine instead of being directed against a foreign foe.
Nevertheless, it cannot be gainsaid that both stories seem to
testify, in a manner more easily apprehended than illustrated,
to altered social and intellectual conditions.
CHAPTER VI
LATER DIDACTIC AND ROMANTIC USE OF THE CONCEPTION
OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
Didactic use of the Otherworld conception — Baile an Scail (The Champion's
Ecstasy), summary and discussion of story — Cormac mac Art in Faery,
summary and discussion of story— The Happy Otherworld in the Ossianic
cycle— The Tomi Clidna episode of the Agallamh na Senorach, com-
parison with the dinfishenchas of Tonn Clidna and Tiiag Inbir—Th&
Behind episode in the Agallamh na Senorach — The attribute of gigantic
stature in the Ossianic cycle— The Adventures of Teigue, son of Cian,
summary and discussion of story— The Vision of MacConglinne.
The Champion's Ecstasy.
The tales hitherto considered are destitute of any didactic
character. They were told either as examples of the ancient
mythic traditions of the race, or, as probably in the case
of the imrajna, with the simple intention of amusing. But
there also exist narratives, traceable in part to an early period,
in which the machinery of the Otherworld is used for didactic
purposes, whether of instruction or moral exhortation. The
most remarkable of these is the tract known as Baile an Scail
(The Champion's Ecstasy), edited and translated by O'Curry
(MS. Mat. 387-388, App. cxxviii.) from a fifteenth-century
Irish MS. Although the MS. tradition is a late one, the tract
itself was known to Flann Manistrech, who died in 1056, and
who used it for historical purposes. It professes to be a
186
THE CHAMPION'S ECSTASY 187
prophecy revealed to Conn the Hundred Fighter concerning
his descendants, kings of Ireland. The story in so far as it
concerns us runs thus (I summarise O'Curry's version) : —
A day that Conn was in Tara, he went up at early morn
upon the royal rath, and with him his three druids. Every
day he went up there with that number to view all the points
of the heavens that the sid men should not rest on Ireland
unperceived by him. His feet met a stone and he stood
upon it, whereupon the stone screamed, so that it was heard
all Tara and over Bregia. Then Conn asked of the druids
what that was and wherefore it screamed. At the end of
fifty days and three, the druids told him the name of the
stone was Fdl; it was brought from the Island of Foal, it
should abide for ever in the land of Tailtin.^ ' Fal,' said the
druid, ' has screamed under thy feet, the number of its
screams is the number of kings that shall come of thy seed
for ever, but I may not name them.' As they were thus they
saw a great mist all around, so that they knew not where they
went from the greatness of the darkness, and they heard the
noise of a horseman approaching. ' It would be a grief to
us,' said Conn, 'if we were carried into an unknown country.'
The horseman let fly three throws of a spear at them, and the
last throw came with greater swiftness than the first. He
then bade Conn welcome, and they went forward until they
entered a beautiful plain. A kingly rath they saw and a
^ As is well known, the stone went to Scotland with the Irish invaders
of the fifth century, was in due course carried off by Edward the First
from Scone, and now forms the seat of the throne upon which the
sovereign of Great Britain is crowned. It is unfortunate the Druid's
prophecy is imperfect, or it would doubtless have revealed these fortunes
of the mystic stone. The Queen is the only European monarch who is at
once descended from a god (Woden) and crowned upon a stone brought
from the Otherworld,
i88 THE CHAMPION'S ECSTASY
golden tree at its door ; a splendid house in it, thirty feet
was its length. Within the house a young woman with a
diadem of gold upon her head ; a silver kieve with hoops of
gold by her, and it was full of red ale, a golden can on its
edge, a golden cup at its mouth. The Seal (champion)
himself sat in his king's seat, and there was never found in
Tara a man of his great size, nor of his comeliness, for the
beauty of his form, the wonderfulness of his face. He spoke
to them, ' I am come after death, and I am of the race of
Adam ; Lug son of Ethlenn is my name, and I have come to
reveal to thee the life of thine own sovereignty and of every
sovereign who shall be in Tara.' And the maiden in the
house was the sovereignty of Erin for ever. This maiden it
was that gave the two articles to Conn, namely, an ox rib and
a hog rib. Twenty-four feet was the length of the ox rib,
eight feet between its arch and the ground.
The remainder of the tract is concerned with the prophecy
delivered by Lug to Conn.
O'Curry unfortunately made use of a fragmentary ver-
sion. A far more complete one is found in an earlier
Oxford MS., Rawl. B. 512, of the late fourteenth or early
fifteenth century, but the two versions agree fairly well in
the part common to both. The Oxford version purports to
be taken from the ' old book of Dub da Lethe successor of
Patrick ' {i.e. in the see of Armagh). Two bishops of this name
are known, of whom one died in 998, the other in 106 1. If
we may trust the statement made by the scribe of the Oxford
MS., and there is really no reason to doubt it, our tale could
not be younger in its present form than the middle of the
eleventh century. The linguistic evidence points in the same
direction. Mr. Whitley Stokes, who has placed his knowledge
of these texts at my disposal with his usual kind courtesy,
THE CHAMPION'S ECSTASY 189
informs me that the description of Lug's palace contains many
old verbal forms, and that in his opinion the language of the
tract may well be as early as the latter part of the tenth century.
It is quoted by Flann Manistrech, who died in the middle of
the eleventh century, and the last king mentioned in the pro-
phecy is Flann Cinneh, son of Maelsechlainn, the opponent of
Cormac (to whom the compilation of Cormac's glossary and
other learned works is ascribed), who died in 914 a.d. As
the prophecy describes him as ' last prince of Ireland ' it must
be assumed to have originated some time before the monarch's
death. It is instructive to note how in the early tenth century
the personages and scenery of the Otherworld were thus used
as convenient machinery for the fabrication of a prophecy,
which doubtless owed its origin to the anxiety of some
Northern poet to bolster up the claim of the race of Niall to
the head kingship of Ireland. Instructive also that, whilst
the story-teller makes no attempt to radically modify the
primitive pagan character of these beings, he is yet anxious
to bring them within the Christian fold by representing them
as sons of Adam, clear proof that the process of transforming
the inmates of the ancient Irish Olympus into historic kings
and warriors had already begun.
The Adventures of Cormac in Faery.
From using the Folk of the Goddess as supernumeraries in
an historical mystification to making them serve as vehicles of
moral allegorising was but a step, a step we find taken in
the story which next claims our attention. It is concerned like
most of the preceding ones with the relations of Tuatha De
Danann and mortals. In the younger of the Irish epic lists
we find mention of the 'Adventures of Cormac,' and a tale
under this title is preserved by several Mss. of the fourteenth
iQo CORMAC IN FAERY
and fifteenth centuries, from two of which, the Book of
Ballymote and the Yellow Book of Lecan, it has been edited
and translated by Mr. Whitley Stokes (Irische Texte, iii., pp.
183-229). It runs as follows : —
On a May morning, as Cormac Mac Airt was on the Mound
of Tea in Tara, he saw an aged grey-haired knight coming
toward him, bearing a silver branch with three golden apples.
Very sweet music did that branch make, wounded men and
women in labour, and folk enfeebled by sickness, would be
lulled to sleep by it. Cormac greeted the stranger, and asked
him whence he came. ' From the land of truth, in which is
neither age nor sin, neither sorrow nor care, envy nor jealousy,
hatred nor pride,' is the answer. ' 'Tis not so with us,' said
Cormac ; and he then begged the branch from the stranger,
which the latter promised him against the fulfilment of three
wishes he might frame. Leaving the branch with the king, he
departed, and only returned at the end of a year. He
then claimed Ailbe, Cormac's daughter, and carried her off.
Her maidens cried three loud cries, but Cormac shook the
branch, and they fell into pleasant slumber. After a month
the stranger returned and took away Cairbre, Cormac's son.
Again the king stilled the grief of all by shaking the silver
branch. A third time the stranger came, and he claimed
Eithne Taebfata, Cormac's wife. Full of grief, the king pur-
sued, and his men with him. But a thick mist overfell them,
and, when it cleared, Cormac found himself alone on a great
plain. After seeing many marvels, the king came to a stately
palace, and entering, found a couple, husband and wife ;
noble was the stature of the knight, debonnair his appearance,
his bearing that of no common man ; golden-haired was his
wife, gold encrowned, beauteous beyond the women of earth.
Cormac is bathed, though there were none to bathe him.
CORMAC IN FAERY . 191
Afterwards there came in a man^ a fagot of wood in his right
hand, a club in his left, a swine slung behind his back. The
swine was quartered and flung into the kettle, and Cormac
learnt that, save a true tale was told to each quarter, the flesh
would never be done. The man begins and tells how the
swine is killed and quartered and boiled and eaten, but on
the morrow is whole as ever. A true tale, says the knight,
and effectively one quarter was found done. The knight then
told of his corn, which sowed and cut and garnered itself,
and, eat of it as one might, it was never less nor more. A true
tale, for the second quarter was done. It was now the wife's
turn, and she told of her seven cows and seven sheep ; the
milk of the cows and the wool of the sheep sufficed the in-
habitants of the Land of Promise for food and clothing. A
true tale, for the third quarter was done. All turned to
Cormac, and he told how children and wife had been carried
off and how he had followed them. The pig was now cooked,
but Cormac refused to eat unless he was served at table, as
his wont was, by fifty knights. The knight sang him to sleep,
and when he awoke, behold fifty knights, and his son and his
wife and his daughter ! They sat down to table, and Cormac
marvelled greatly at the host's golden goblet, so richly chased
was it. ' More marvellous are its properties,' said the host,
' it will break for three lies, but three true things make it
whole again.' Then the host lied thrice and the goblet broke,
but he made it whole again by declaring that Cormac's wife
and daughter had not seen a man since they left Tara, nor
had his son seen a woman. ' Take your family,' he then said
to Cormac, * and this goblet as well, and the silver branch to
soothe and solace you, but on the day you die, these things
shall be taken away from you. For I am Manannan, son of
Ler, Lord of the Land of Promise, and I brought you here that
192 CORMAC IN FAERY
you might see the fashion of the land.' He then explained
the signification of the various marvels Cormac had beheld
on the plain, and afterwards they retired to rest. On the
morrow, when Cormac awoke, they four were together on the
meads of Tara, and by his side goblet and branch, ^
The tale I have just summarised may, probably does,
reproduce the essentials of the Adventures of Cormac vouched
for by the old epic list, but it has certainly been completely
rewritten, and represents a far later stage of Irish romance
than any of the stories hitherto cited, saving always Oisin in
Tir na n-og, and in some respects the latter tale, though far
younger in actual redaction, has preserved older features more
faithfully. It is no question of the verbal framework of the
tale modified to suit more modern ears ; a new spirit has been
breathed into the old conceptions, a spirit of didactic allegory,
stamping the whole, as does also a faint flavour of mediaeval
courtoisie, as a product of the later middle ages. This very fact
gives additional value to the archaic simplicity with which the
charms and delights of Manannan's realm are set forth. Re-
fine and embellish as the twelfth or thirteenth-century story-
teller may, the primitive nature of his material is apparent.
The milk-pail that empties not, the swine slain one day alive
the next, the self-garnering wheat, the inexhaustible fleece,
these are the simple elements of an early and unsophisticated
land of Cockayne which the fine-drawn allegorising of a later
period cannot obscure.
The Happy Otherworld in the Ossianic Cycle.
Cormac's adventures form a fitting transition to the con-
^ A later version has been printed and translated by Mr. Standish
Hayes O'Grady, Ossianic Soc. iii. I have summarised and adapted this
version for Mr. Jacobs' More CeUic Fairy Tales.
THE OSSIANIC CYCLE 193
sideration of a group of stories affording glimpses of the Happy
Otherworld which are found imbedded in the Ossianic cycle.
Without in any way prejudging the question of the origin of
the legends which have centred round Finn mac Cumail and
his warrior band, it may be confidently affirmed that the bulk
of the tales in which his fortunes are recounted are consider-
ably younger than those which tell of the Ultonian knights, or
than the majority of the historic romances connected with
personages of the first six centuries of our era. And by
younger, I do not mean younger in respect of language only,
but in tone, spirit, and literary form. The Fenian romances,
as we have them, are the work of the professional story-telling
class, and, be the reason what it may, the. saga of Finn
came into the hand of this class at a later date than did the
other cycles of Irish romance, at a date when it had
been affected by new historical and social conditions, had
elaborated new literary conventions, had developed a new
literary style. I have endeavoured elsewhere to account
for this fact by the hypothesis that the Fenian tales were
more specifically South Irish, and that they only attracted
official recognition, so to say, after the rise of the Brian
dynasty in the early eleventh century.^ Certain it is that
a considerable portion of the Ossianic cycle must have
assumed, substantially, the shape under which it has
come down to us in the twelfth, thirteenth, and four-
teenth centuries. To avoid misconception I again repeat
that only the form in which the matter is presented, not the
matter itself, is here spoken of. The latter is often essentially
the same as portions of earlier cycles, a fact which some
scholars would explain by wholesale transference of incident
^ Cf. my study upon the development of the Ossianic saga, Waifs and
Strays, vol. ii., 395-430 ; and my remarks, ibid. vol. iv., xxx. et seq.
N
194 OSSIANIC VERSIONS
and characterisation. This I am chary of admitting save in
a very Hmited measure. The stories in question are found in
the Agallamh na Sejiorach, or Colloquy of the Ancients, one
of the most extensive prose texts of the Ossianic cycle, pre-
served in several mss. of the early fifteenth century, and a
product, in all probability, of the thirteenth or fourteenth
century.^ In tone and spirit it may be described as an
attempt to conciliate traditions, ahen, if not hostile, to
Christianity in their origin and essence, with Christian legend ;
formally, it is a fine example of a mode of narrative, always
popular in Ireland, the ' framework ' tale. Of all the Fenian
heroes, Caoilte and Oisin alone survive with a few followers.
Oisin betakes himself to the sidh of Ucht Ckitigh, where was
his mother, Blai. Caoilte, wandering through Ireland, meets
Patrick on a missionary round — 'fear fell upon the clerics
when they saw the tall men with their huge wolf-dogs, for
they were not people of one epoch nor of one time with the
clergy.' The saint alone retains his courage and presence of
mind, sprinkles holy water over the visitors, whereupon a
thousand legions of demons that had been floating over them
departed forthwith into hills and clefts and the other regions
of the country. The saint shows himself full of a charmingly
sympathetic curiosity respecting the past history of the land,
and finds in the aged hero an inexhaustible mine of informa-
tion. Together they tread the length and breadth of Ireland ;
every mound and fort, every hill and fountain, suggests a
question to Patrick, an answering story to Caoilte. The
latter, being asked why a certain wave is called Tonn Clidna,
relates as follows : Among Finn's favourite squires was Ciab-
han, son of Eochaid Red-weapon of Ulidia. Now the Fianna
generally had no liking for him, as every woman, mated or
1 I use Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady's version in Silva Gadelica.
THE CLIDNA STORY 195
unmated, fell in love with him, so Finn was forced to part with
him. Ciabhan on leaving the Fianna comes to the seashore,
where he beholds a high-prowed currach in which are two
young men, who turn out to be Lodan, son of the king of
India, and Solus, son of the king of Greece. The three set
forth together over the sea, and greatly and fiercely were they
tossed by the waves until at length they see a knight on a
dark grey horse with a golden bridle. ' For the space of nine
waves he would be submerged in the sea, but would rise on
the crest of the tenth without wetting chest or breast.' He took
them to the ' land of promise ' and to Manannan's fort ; sweet
music was provided for them, games and tricks of cunning
jugglers. Now Manannan's arch-ollave had three daughters,
Clidna, Aife, and Edain, three treasures of maidenhood and
chastity. The three straightway fell in love with the strangers,
and appointed to elope with them on the morrow. They
sailed away to Teite's Strand in the south of Ireland ; Ciabhan
lands and goes off to hunt in the adjacent country, but the
' outer swell rolled in on Clidna, whereby she was drowned,'
as well as three pursuers from Manannan's land, Ildathach
and his two sons, who were enamoured of her.
The Dinnshenchas Version of the Clidna Story.
We luckily possess this story in a far earlier and more
archaic form, and we can obtain from comparison of the two
versions valuable light upon the mode of development, both
formal and spiritual, of Irish mythic romance, as well as
fresh information concerning the conception of the Happy
Othcrworkl. The earlier version is found in the so-called
DifiJtshcfichas, an extensive text found in the Book of Leinster
196 THE DINNSHENCHAS
and later mss.^ This is a collection of traditions told to
account for place-names whether of natural or artificial
objects, in other words, it is obviously the model upon which
the writers of the Agallamh na Senorach and similar texts
based themselves. The half-a-dozen variant texts of the
Dinnshejichas contains matter of varying age 2.x^^ provenance ;
it is probable that the idea of a mythico-topographical survey
of Ireland is not older than the eleventh century, and that
even the oldest text, that of the Book of Leinster, is, as
regards compilation and redaction, not much older than the
date of transcription, i.e. than the first half of the twelfth
century. But, as Mr. Whitley Stokes has well remarked,
' whatever be their date, the documents as they stand are a
treasure of ancient Irish folk-lore, absolutely unaffected, so
far as I can judge, by any foreign influence.' Some of the
matter indeed to be found in this collection is probably as
archaic as anything preserved by any other branch of the
Aryan-speaking peoples, and has been handed down to us in
a manner which shows that the eleventh-twelfth century
antiquaries who inserted it in the Dinnshenchas had absolutely
no comprehension of its origin and significance.
With these few indications of the nature of the text to
guide the reader, I lay before him the dinnshenchas of Tonn
^ Mr. Whitley Stokes has edited and translated the fragment of this
work contained in the Oxford ms., Rawl. B. 500 (Folk Lore, iii. ), re-
printed (D. Nutt) under the title Bodley Dinnschenchas ; in Folk-
Lore, iv., he has edited the fragment found in Kilbride xvi. (reprinted
under the title Edinburgh Dinnshenchas, D. Nutt) ; finally in the Revue
Celtique, vols. xv. and xvi., he has edited and translated the text found in
a fifteenth century MS. preserved in the library at Rennes in Brittany,
and has supplemented it from the text preserved in the Book of Lecan.
Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady has edited and translated many separate
dinnshenchas in his Appendix to Silva Gadelica.
THE CLIDNA DINNSHENCHAS 197
Clidna, which is one of those found in the Book of Leinster
version : ^ ' Chdna, daughter of Genann, son of Tren, went
from the Hill of Two Wheels in the Pleasant Plain of the
Land of Promise, with luchna Ciabfhaindech (I. Curly-locks)
to reach Mac ind Oc. luchna practised guile upon her.
He played music to her in the boat of bronze, wherein she
lay so that she slept. And he turned her course back, so
that she went round Ireland southwards, till she came to
Clidna. This was the time when the illimitable sea-burst
arose and spread through the districts of the present world.
Because there were at that season three great floods of Erin,
to wit, Clidna's flood, and Ladra's flood, and Bale's flood.
But not in the same hour did they rise. Ladra's flood was
the middle one. So the flood pressed on aloft, and divided
throughout the land of Erin, till it overtook yon boat with
the girl asleep in it, on the strand, and then was drowned
Clidna, the shapely daughter of Genann.'
The Edinburgh version of this di/ms/ienchas^ adds: *As
also in S. Patrick's time Caoilte indited on the same
hill, in the course of that colloquy which the two held
anent Ireland's dinnshenchas,' which shows that the scribe
was familiar with the Agalhwih as we have it. Before
commenting upon this story it may be well to cite another
dinnshenchas which alludes to Clidna's wave, that of Tuati
Inbir, the more so as the tradition it preserves is of the same
nature, and as it likewise is concerned with the Happy Other-
world and the inmates thereof. The substance of this
dinnshenchas is found in the Book of Leinster in a com-
paratively speaking lengthy poem, attributed to a bard of the
name of Maile ; later mss. give it briefly in prose as follows : ^
' Bodley Dinn. No. 10. R. C. xv. 2 Qjej gjiva Gad., 528.
3 R. C. XV. Cf. also Bodley Dinn. No. 46.
198 THE TUAG INBIR STORY
'Tuag, daughter of Conall, son of Eterscel was reared in
Tara with a great host of Erin's kings' daughters about her
to protect her. After she had completed her fifth year no
man at all was allowed to see her, so that the king of Ireland
might have the wooing of her. Now Manannan sent unto
her a messenger, one of his fair messengers, even Fer Figail,
son of Eogabal, a fosterling of Manannan, and a Druid of the
Tuatha De Danann, in a woman's shape, and he was there
three nights. On the fourth night the Druid chanted a sleep
spell over the girl, and carried her to Inver Glas, for that
was the first name of Tuag Inbir. And he laid her down
asleep on the ground that he might go to look for a boat.
He did not wish to awake her, so that he might take her in
her sleep to the land of Everliving Women. But a wave of
the flood tide came when he had gone and drowned the girl.
So then Fer Figail went on to his house, and Manannan
killed him because of his misdeed. Whence the stave :
The Three Waves of the whole of Erin :
Clidna's Wave, Rudraige's Wave,
And the wave that drowned Mac Lir's wife
At the strand over Tuag Inbir.'
The Oxford version throws doubt upon the death of the
maiden, adding, ' Or maybe it (the wave) was Manannan
himself that was carrying her off.'
The first of these stories is wholly concerned with personages
of the Tuatha De Danann. The Mac ind Oc who is cheated
of his beloved (which he avenges by causing her to be
drowned and thus depriving his successful rival of her?) is
Angus, son of the Dagda, the ' good god,' himself celebrated
as the wises', wizard of the Tuatha De and the hero of many
tales, several of an amorous nature.^ In the second, mortals
1 E.g. the fine tale, edited and translated by Dr. Edward Miiller,
THE DINNSHENCHAS VERSIONS 199
and Tuatha De Danann are in opposition, and Manannan is
the same enterprising wooer as Mider and other princes in
Faery. The story in the Agallamh seems a compound of
both, with the mythic element minimised as much as possible,
and padded out with irrelevant conventional commonplaces
such as the wandering princes of Greece and India, whom the
story-teller introduces only to lose sight of. Its features are so
obviously the result of literary combination and development
of older material that it may safely be left out of account in
any attempt at reconstituting the original form of the tale.
Several points are noteworthy in the Dinnshenchas stories ;
the Happy Otherworld is designated as in Bran and Connla,
the Pleasant Plain, the Land of Promise, the Land of Ever-
living Women. Immortality seems implicitly denied to its
inhabitants by Clidna's death, but it is perhaps overstraining
the evidence to assert this, as it may possibly be due, as I
have hinted, to a special exercise of power on the part of the
Mac ind Oc, the leading chief of the Tuatha De Danann.
Finally the Oxford version of the Tuag Inbir dinnshefichas
yields the most mythical picture preserved by Irish legend of
Manannan the billow-rider, and also allows the surmise that
Clidna's death is no real passing from life, but that a similar
substitution of drowning for abduction by the god has taken
place as in the Tuag Inbir story.
The Bebind Episode in the Agallamh.
The other episode in the Agallamh which belongs to this
R. C. iii. 342. In late mediaeval Irish lileraturc, Antjus figures as a sort
of supernatural Ilarun al Raschid. It is his delight to wander up and
down Ireland playing tricks upon men, but in the end making it up to
his victims. A story of this char.acter, ' The Story-teller at Fault ' will be
found in Mr. Jacobs' Celtic Fairy Tales.
200 THE BEBIND STORY
story cycle is as follows : ^ As Finn and his men were hunting,
they are astonished by the approach of a woman of more than
mortal beauty and size, for her finger-rings were as thick as a
three ox yoke. Asked whence she came — ' From the Maiden's
Land in the West, and I am daughter to its king ; in that land
are but my father and his three sons of men, hence it is
called the Land of Women ; hard by is the Land of Men, and
to a son of its king I was thrice given and thrice ran away,
and I come to place myself under the safeguard of Finn.'
Whilst the Fianna were giving her hospitality, — the pail that
held nine draughts for the hero, she emptied into the palm of
her hand — her husband came up with her and slew her as she
sat between Finn and Goll Pursued by the bravest and
fleetest of the Fianna, he escaped, though wounded by a
spear-cast of Caoilte's. The last the Fenian heroes beheld
of him, he entered a great galley with two rowers, that bore
down out of the west, and went off no man knew whither.
In this tale we see, if I am not mistaken, the older con-
ception undergoing change at the story-teller's caprice; the
archaic machinery is retained as part of a conventional stock
of situations, but its genuine significance is obscured. A
curious feature is the giant stature attributed to the dwellers in
the Western Marvel Land. This is equally contrary to the
spirit of the older romance, which never pictures the Tuatha De
Danann as differing outwardly from mortals, or to the modern
folk-belief, which, so far from exaggerating the size of the fairy
inhabitants of the hollow hills, dwarfs them almost to invisibility.
I do not think the trait has any traditional significance ; just
as the story-tellers who elaborated our present versions of
these taler; dwelt complacently upon the difference in size
between Patrick and the earlier race of Fenian heroes, so
^ Zimmer, 268 ; Silva Gadelica, 228.
TEIGUE, SON OF CIAN 201
they dwarf these in comparison with the yet earher race of
the Tuatha De Danann. The idea, however, that Finn and
his men were at times engaged with a race of gigantic beings
has influenced later popular tradition and originated a cycle
of tales, of a semi-humorous nature, found to this day in
Scotch as well as in Irish Gaeldom.^
The section of Ossianic romance represented by iheAgallanih
na Senorach is the most artificial in character, the least popular
in tone and spirit, of any preserved to us, and, as a matter
of fact, the traditions which it represents have exercised little
influence upon the later development of the cycle as a whole.
As we have already seen, Fenian mythic romance retained
the conception of the Happy Otherworld in its full force,
significance, and beauty, and was able, barely a century and a
half ago, to give it a shape of new and enduring charm in
Michael Comyn's poem of Oisin in the Land of Youth.
The Adventures of Teigue, son of Cian,
About the same time as the pale and fragmentary versions
we have just been considering found a resting-place in the
Agallamh na Setiorach, the vision of the Happy Otherworld,
which had appealed so vividly to the fancy of Irishmen for
so many hundred years, was created anew in the heart and
mind of the unknown poet to whom we owe the Adventures
of Tadg (Teigue), the son of Cian. The fascinating beauty of
the story, the many points of interest it presents to the student
of Irish romance, entitle it to lengthened and careful ex-
amination. The tale, edited and translated by Mr. Standish
Hayes O'Grady in Silva Gadelica, from the fifteenth century
1 Cf. Waifs and Strays, vol. iv., The Fians, and Mr. Jacobs' More
Celtic l'"airy Tales, p. 233, where it is suggested that tales of Finn's visit
to Giantland may have inlluenced Swift.
202 TEIGUE, SON OF CIAN
Book of Lismore, has for hero the grandson of Aihll Olum,
the third-century king of South Ireland, a favourite hero
of bardic recitation, and is as follows : ^ —
A sudden incursion of Cathmann, son of Tabarn, king of
the beauteous land of Fresen, lying over against Spain, into
Teigue's province of Munster is crowned with success.
Teigue himself barely escapes with life, his wife, his brethren,
and much of his people are carried off into captivity. Guided,
however, by the indications of a prisoner taken by his men, he
resolves to follow the ravishers and free his people. He
builds a strong currach of five-and-twenty thwarts, in which
are forty ox-hides of hard bark-soaked leather. He fits it with
all necessaries, so that they might keep the sea a year if need
be, and taking his bravest warriors with him he drives forth
on the vast and illimitable abyss, over the volume of the
potent and tremendous deluge. The course of the voyage
resembles that of Maelduin and other heroes of the imrama ;
islands are encountered containing sheep of unutterable size ;
birds, the eggs of which when eaten cause feathers to sprout
all over the feeders. For six weeks they pull away, the captive
guide loses his bearings, and they are all adrift. At length
they descry land with a good coast of a pleasing aspect.
Closing in, they find a fine green-bosomed estuary with spring
well-like sandy bottom, delicate woods with empurpled tree-
tops fringing delightful streams. And when they land they
forget cold, and foul weather and tempest, nor do they crave
for food or drink, the perfume of the fragrant crimson
branches being by way of meat and all-satisfying aliment
sufficient for them. Proceeding, they happen upon a wood ;
round puiple berries hang on the trees, each bigger than a
man's head, and upon them feast birds beautiful and brilliant,
^ Silva Gadelica, 385 ct scq.
TEIGUE, SONOFCIAN 203
and, as they feed, they warble music and minstrelsy melodious
and superlative. Still they advance, and so to a wide smooth
plain clad in flowering cloves all bedewed with honey, and on
the plain three prominent hills each crowned with a fort. At
the nearest fort they find a white-bodied lady, fairest of the
whole world's women, who thus greets them : ' I hail thy
advent, Teigue, son of Cian, thou shalt have victual and
constant supply.' She tells them the fort they behold is the
fort of Ireland's kings, from Heremon, son of Milesius, to
Conn of the Hundred Battles ; Inis locha, loch island, is the
name of the land, and over it reign two sons of Bodbh. They
proceed to the next fort, golden in colour, and they find a
queen, gracious, draped in vesture of a golden colour. 'All
hail, Teigue,' says she, ' long since 'twas foretold for thee to
come on this journey.' She is Cesair, daughter of Noah's son
Bethra, the first woman that reached Ireland before the flood,
and here she and her companions abide in everlasting life.
Red loch island, she calls the land, because of a red loch that
is in it containing an island surrounded with a palisade of
gold, its name being itii's Fatmos, in which are all saints and
righteous that have served God. In the dtm with the golden
rampart dwell kings and rulers and noblemen of ordained
rank, both Firbolgs and Tuatha De Danann. Teigue com-
mends her knowledge and right instruction. 'Truly,' she
says, ' I am well versed in the worUl's history, for this is
precisely the earth's fourth paradise, the others being ifiis Daleb
in the world's southern, and inis Escandra in its boreal part,
and Adam's paradise. In this island, the fourth land, Adam's
seed dwell, sucli of them as arc righteous.' They proceed
onward to the third hill, on the summit of which is a seat of
great beauty, and, on the very apex, a gentle and youthful
couple. Smooth heads of hair have they, with sheen of gold ;
204 TEIGUE, SON OF CIAN
equal vestments of green ; round the lower parts of their necks
chains of red gold are wound, and, above them, golden
torques clasp their throats. Teigue asks the lady's name. ' I
am Veniusa, daughter am I to Adam ; for four daughters we
are in the four mysterious magic countries already declared to
thee : Veniusa, Letiusa, Aliusa, and Eliusa. The guilt of our
mother's transgression suffers us not to abide in one place,
yet for our virginity and our purity that we have dedicated to
God we are conveyed into these separate joyful domiciles.'
' And who is this comely stripling by thy side ? ' asks Teigue.
Now the youth was so, that in his hand he held a fragrant
apple having the hue of gold ; a third part of it he would eat,
and still, for all he consumed, never a whit of it would be
diminished. This fruit it was that supported the pair of them,
and when once they had partaken of it, nor age nor dimness
could affect them. He answers Teigue, saying, ' I am son to
Conn of the Hundred Battles.' 'Art thou, then, Connla?'
' I am indeed, and this young woman of the many charms it
was that hither brought me.' 'I have bestowed upon him
true affection's love,' explains the maiden, 'and therefore
wrought to have him come to me in this land, where our
delight, both of us, is to continue in looking at and in per-
petual contemplation of one another, above and beyond which
we pass not to commit impurity or fleshly sin whatever.'
' Truly,' comments Teigue, ' a beautiful and at the same time
a comical thing.' The fort stands ready for behoof of the
righteous kings that shall own Ireland after acceptance of the
faith ; Teigue shall have an appointed place in it. ' How may
that be?' he asks, and is told, 'Believe in the Omnipotent
Lord, and even to the uttermost judgment thou shalt win that
mansion with God's kingdom afterwards.' They pass into
the abode, the couple preceding, and hardly if the beautiful
TEIGUE, SON OF CIAN 205
green grass's heads bow beneath their smooth soft white
foot soles. Under the arched doorway they pass, with
its wide valves and portal-capitals of burnished gold; they
step on to a shining well-laid pavement, tesselated of pure
white, of blue, of crimson marble. A jocund house it is
and one to be desired ; silver the floor with four closed doors
of bright gold ; gems of crystal and carbuncle are set in the
wall in such wise that with flashing of these precious stones
day and night shine alike. Beyond lies a thickly spreading
apple-tree bearing fruit and ripe blossom alike ; it shall serve
the congregation that is to be in the mansion, and it was an
apple of that tree that lured away Connla. The couple part
here from the wanderers, but such the exhilarating properties
of the house that Teigue and his people experience neither
melancholy nor sorrow. Soon they mark a whole array of
feminine beauty, and among them a lovely damsel of refined
form, the noblest and most divine-inspiring of the whole
world's women. She greets Teigue, and in answer to his
request to learn her name, ' I am,' says she, ' Cleena Fair-
head of the Tuatha Dq Danann, sweetheart of Ciaban of the
curling locks.' She too lives wholly upon the fruit of the
apple-tree. As they were talking there entered through the
window tlirec birds : a blue one with crimson head ; a crimson
with head of green, a green one having on his head a colour
of gold. They perch on the apple-tree and warble melody
sweet and harmonised, such that the sick would sleep to it.
These birds shall go with the wanderers and make symphony
and minstrelsy for them, so that neither by sea nor land sad-
ness nor grief shall afflict them. Cleena also gives them a
fair cup of emerald hue, if water be poured into it incon-
tinently it is wine. Other gifts and counsels she imparts,
and leading them to their boat bids tlicm farewell, asking
2o6 TEIGUE, SON OF CIAN
them how long they had been in the country. 'A single
day,' say they; to which she answers, 'An entire twelvemonth
are ye in it ; during which time ye have had neither meat nor
drink, nor, how long soever ye should be here, would cold or
thirst or hunger assail you.' They sail off and the birds strike
up their chorus for them, whereat, for all they were grieved
and sad at renouncing that fruitful country, they become
merry and of good courage. But when they look astern they
cannot see the land whence they came, for incontinently an
obscuring magic veil was drawn over it.
The story then tells how Teigue and his men succeed in
their quest, rescue the captives and slay the ravishers, but it
is of comparatively little interest.
It is needless to dwell upon what I trust will be apparent
even from this brief summary, the rare and exquisite charm
of this narrative in which the haunting suggestiveness of a
dream is rendered in colours and outlines as delicately clear,
as limpidly precise as those of a painting by Memling, with
that touch of natural magic to which we seek in vain for
parallels outside Celtdom in the literature of the Middle Ages.
We may note that the poet was well read in the romantic
literature of Ireland; there is indeed a soiipi^07i of pedantry
that, as in the only class of narrative to which I can compare
it — the Italian romance of the Renaissance and its derivatives —
is an added charm ; a certain aristocratic preciousness both of
thought and expression, as in that anticipation of the Blessed
Damosel theme which brings a smile to the lips of Teigue,
strengthens the illusion that the work had its origin in some
southern late mediaeval court where refinement had not
evaporated in depravity and where culture was still Christian.
Yet, so far as we can judge, it is purely Irish in conception as
in execution. The author knew his Irish classics as I have
MACCONGLINNE 207
said, and the latest among them. He cites the Clidna story
from the Agallamh version, which cannot be much older than
his time. Most interesting for us is the way in which, whilst
retaining detail and circumstance of the older legend, he has
managed to bathe the whole in a Christian atmosphere, and
invest each incident with a symbolical significance. The
design I have noted in the writers of the Agallamh, to run
the ancient story mass into new and orthodox moulds, is here
fully carried out, but with an artistic sense of fitness, with a
sympathy for the nature of the material, that place the work
on a far higher level than anything found in the Agallamh.
By way of strong contrast we may glance for a moment at a
work which, dating back in plan and partial execution to the
early twelfth century, was remodelled and enlarged during
the thirteenth century, and which, in its own style is a
masterpiece of equal merit and interest with the Adventures
of Teigue. I allude to the Vision of MacConglinne.^ Too
little justice has been done to this brilliant bit of buffoonery,
the truest exponent of one side of the Rabelaisian spirit
before Rabelais I am acquainted with. I mention it here
because I believe it to be largely a parody upon the
Voyages to the Otherworld. It tells how, to cure Cathal, king
of Munster, of an inordinately voracious appetite caused by
a demon that had taken up its abode in his inside, Anier
MacConglinne relates a vision of being transported to a
marvellous land of Cockayne, of gorging guzzledom, of bursting
fatness and clotted richness. The idea and many details of
the vision were, I believe, suggested to the writer by stories
^ Edited, for the first time, in Irish in both the extant forms, and
translated into English by Professor Kuno Meyer, with accompanying
Introduction upon the origin and literary analogues of the story by
Professor W. Wollncr. D. Nutt, 1S92.
2o8 MACCONGLINNE
of the type we have been considering, and his parody yields
fresh and valuable witness to the popularity of this form of
narrative.^
1 I have not thought it necessary to follow the literary record later than
the fourteenth-fifteenth century, save in the case of Michael Comyn's
poem. There exist a number of prose tales belonging to the Fenian or
Ossianic cycle, which wear the appearance of being free variations upon
older themes, made by men who, although in touch with popular tradition,
were not bound by it. The discrimination of older and younger elements
in these stories, dating in their present form from, the sixteenth, seven-
teenth, and eighteenth centuries, is a task hardly essayed as yet. I have
thought it best at this stage to leave this literature out of account, just as
I have made no use of living folk-tradition.
CHAPTER VII
FRAGMENTARY INDEPENDENT PRESENTMENTS OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD CONCEPTION
The Echtra Nerai (Nera's Expedition into the Otherworld) — The Tain b6
Regamna (the Raid of Regamna's Kine) — Angus of the Brugh and the
conquest of the Sid — The dinnshetichas of Mag m-Breg — The dinti-
shenchas of Sinann — The dinnshenchas of Boann — The dinnshcnchas of
Loch Garman — The dinnshenchas of Sliab Fuait — The dinnshenchas of
Findloch Cera.
Nera in THE Otherworld.
A FEW tales which lie outside the strict limit of the Voyage
to the Otherworld type yet deserve notice as affording
glimpses of the marvel land, or of its inhabitants. Thus
the Echtra Nerai, or Nera's Expedition into the Otherworld,
one of the remscela or introductory stories to the Tain bb
Ciiailgne {i.e. a tale of probably the ninth or tenth century so
far as its present form is concerned) tell what befel Nera in
Faery.i He got there in this way. One Halloween Ailill and
Medb (the famous king and queen of Connaught who are the
standing opponents of and foils to the Ulster court in the
Ultonian cycle), having hanged two men, promised a prize
to whoever should put a withe round the foot of either captive
on the gallows. Nera alone dares the venture which the others
decline, 'for demon women ai)pear on that night always.' He
reaches the gallows and essays to put a withe roiuid the foot
' P^litcd and translated by Professor Kuno Meyer, R. C. x. 214.
2IO NERA'S ADVENTURES
of one of the captives and thrice he fails, whereupon the
hanged man girds at him and tells he must do the work pro-
perly even if he keep at it till the morrow. The task being
accomplished, the hanged man declares his thirst, and Nera,
offering him a drink, starts off, carrying him on his shoulders.^
They come after a while into the sidoi Cruachan, and Nera stays
there and is offered a wife by the king of the sid. She betrays
her people, who were planning to attack Ailill's court next
Halloween, ' for the fairy mounds of Erin are always opened
about Halloween,' and sends Nera to warn the king. ' How
will it be believed,' says he, 'that I have been in the sid 7^
' Take fruits of summer with thee,' she answers. Afterwards
the hosts of Connaught destroy the sid, and carry away from
it the three wonderful gifts of Ireland.
The Tain b6 Regamna.
In another of the remsccla to the Tain bo Cuailgne the
so-called Tdi7t bo Regamna which is closely connected with
^ One of the widest spread and most genuinely Irish folk-tales of the
present day is that of which Croker has a version entitled Ned Sheehy's
Excuse (Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, Part ii.
178 et seq.), and of which the finest variant is perhaps Dr. Douglas
Hyde's Teague O'Kane and the Corpse. I contributed to Mr. Jacobs'
Celtic Fairy Tales a version heard by me twenty-five years ago from
the late D. W. Logie, and told by him of his grandfather, Andrew Coffey.
It relates the experiences of a man set to watch a dead body slung on a
spit to roast, and solemnly charged not to allow the meat to burn. Being
somewhat perturbed in spirit he forgets his duty, and is roundly taken to
task for his neglect by — the corpse itself. The grim and grotesque
humour of the situation is essentially Irish, and, as we see by Nera's
Adventures, goes back to a tale as old in its present shape as the tenth
century at the latest, and doubtless in its substance centuries older.
There could hardly be a finer instance of the toughness of popular tra-
dition on Gaelic soil.
ANGUS OF THE BRUGH. 211
Nera's Adventures, ^ we obtain a glimpse of the shape-shifting
self-concealing powers of the Tuatha De Danann, The
Morrigan (Fairy Queen) having carried off one of the cows
which Nera had brought with him out of the sid, Cuchulinn, as
the guardian of the cattle of Ulster, endeavours to prevent her,
and this is one of contributory causes of the great war which
raged between Ulster and the rest of Ireland concerning the
raid of the Kine of Coolney. The hero does not at first
recognise the nature of the woman he encounters, but when,
incensed by her taunts he leaps into her car to punish her,
behold, 'he saw neither horse, nor woman, neither car nor
man,' only a black bird sitting on a branch.
I have cited these two tales as examples of the way in
which conceptions of the Otherworld and its inhabitants of a
markedly different nature from those that have hitherto been
laid before the reader, continued to find expression in literature.
I may add the surmise that they represent, far better than
most of the tales I have instanced, the actual popular belief
of the time concerning the fairy folk ; in some points they are
also strikingly akin to the living fairy creed of the Irish peasant.
The Conquest of the Sid.
Attention has already been drawn in commenting upon the
Tonn Clidna di7inshenchas to the Mac ind Oc, Angus, son of
the Dagda. He figures prominentlj^- in Irish tradition as
Angus of the Brugh, the Brugh in question being the great
mounds of New Grange, Dowth, and Knowth upon the banks
of the river Boyne. These monuments have lately been
discussed, with learning and judgment, by Mr. George Coffey,^
^ Printcil .ind translated hy Professor E. Windisch, Irische Textc, ii. 2,
p. 229.
- In The Tumuli .and Inscribed Stones at New Grange, Dowth and
Knowth, Dublin, iS'j2.
212 ANGUS OF THE BRUGH
who looks upon them as funereal in character, and dates them,
on purely archaeological grounds, 'approximately about the first
century a.d.' Texts, at the latest of the tenth century, record
the tradition that this was the burial-place of the Kings of
Ireland from the days of Crimthann Niadh-nar (a.d. 9) to those
of Loeghaire, son of Niall (a.d. 429). Poems, due to historians
of the tenth and eleventh centuries, also describe the district as
the burial-place of the Tuatha De Danann kings whom these
annalistic writers picture as living from about 1800 to 1000
B.C., and states that Crimthann made it the burying-place for
himself and his descendants because he had married a wife of
the race of the Tuatha De. Thus in the ninth and tenth
centuries there was a tradition concerning the spot which may
be described as the historical one, though it was largely inter-
mingled with mythical elements. Contemporaneously, an
account continued to be transcribed which is entirely mythical
and which is most fully represented by one of the remsccla of
the Tilin bo Cuailgne entitled ' The Conquest of the Sid,' ^ a
text of which is to be found in the Book of Leinster. Angus
manages to cozen his father, the Dagda, out of his home by
persuading him to lend it for a night and a day. When the
Dagda wished to regain possession he was met by the plea
that as time is made up of nights and days he had ceded it in
perpetuity; whether he admired his son's skill in chicanery
or not he admitted the plea, for henceforth the Brugh was
Angus' palace. A wonderful place it was, ' therein are three
trees, fruit thereon for ever, together with a never-failing supply
of roast pig and good liquor,' for two swine are there in that
abode, one living, the other ready roasted for eating, and a jar
full of excellent beer ; moreover in that abode no one ever died.
1 Summarised by M. d'Aibois de Jubainville, Cycle Mythologique,
270 el seq.
MYTHS IN THE DINNSHENCHAS 213
This account it will be noticed agrees with that of the over-
sea Elysium in singling out deathlessness as the main attribute
of the Otherworld. It may be compared with stories of the
Nera type in the prominence given to the fact that the sid
dwellers are owners of (marvellous) domestic animals, a trait
equally marked in the peasant creed of contemporary Ireland,
and, I believe, one of great antiquity. It is noticed elsewhere
in the early literature. Thus the dinnshe?ic/ias of Mag m-Breg ^
tells of Brega, Dil's ox, and how Dil, daughter of Lug-Mannair,
went from the land of promise, or from the land of Falga, with
Tulchine, druid of Connaire M6r. ' In the same year that Dil
was born of her mother, the cow brought forth the calf named
Falga. So the king's daughter loved the calf beyond the rest
of the cattle, and Tulchine was unable to carry her off until he
took the ox with her. The Morrigan was good to him, and
he prayed her to give him that drove.' Here we catch vague
echoes of olden beliefs that domestic animals, as also other gifts
of civilisation, came from the Otherworld, from which they may
be obtained, as in this case, by praying to the Great Queen of
that land.
A point is noteworthy in this story. The land of Falga is
a synonym of the Land of Promise. Now Falga seems to
have been an old name of the Isle of Man (MS. Mat. 588.
n. 172) which is also traditionally placed under the head-
ship of Manannan, lord of the Happy Otherworld in other
stories. It is possible that these names date back to a period
when the Goidels inhabited Britain and when Man was
par excellence the Western Isle, the home of the lord of the
Otherworld.
The Otherworld is not only the land from which come
domestic animals ; wisdom and poetry have their origin from
^ Bodlcy Dinn., No. 2.
214 THE WELL OF FAERY
it. Thus the dinnshenchas of Sinann : ^ ' Sinend daughter of
Lodan Lucharglan son of Ler, out of the Land of Promise, went
to Connla's Well which is under sea to behold it. That is a
well at which are the hazels of wisdom and inspirations, that is,
the hazels of the science of poetry, and in the same hour their
fruit, and their blossom and their foliage break forth, and then
fall upon the well in the same shower, which raises upon the
water a royal surge of purple. . . . Now Sinend went to seek
the inspiration, for she wanted nothing save only wisdom . . .
but the well left its place . . . and overwhelmed her . . . and
when she had come to the land on this side (of the Shannon)
she tasted death.'
In this remarkable legend the name given to the well of
inspiration would seem to point to some lost version of
Connla's adventures in Faery, or, possibly, may be the
reason why a voyage to the Otherworld was ascribed to the
son of Conn, the Hundred fighter. The gist of the story may
to some suggest Scandinavian influence, but the differences
between it and Odin's winning of the mead of knowledge and
poesy are so great, that it is impossible to my mind to make
the one story a derivate of the other, the essential kinship
being rather due to the fact that both are parallel variants of a
pan-Aryan myth.
That the well of Faery might not be approached save by
certain beings and in certain stated ways we learn from another
dinnshenchas, that of Boann : ^ ' B6and, wife of Nechtan son of
Labraid went to the Secret Well which was in the green of sid
Nechtan. Whoever went to it would not come from it without
his two eyes bursting, unless it was Nechtan himself and his
three cup-oearers, Flesc and Lam and Luam. Once upon a
^ R. C. XV. 457, Bodley Dinn., No. 20.
2 R, C. XV, 315, Bodley Dinn., No. 36.
THE WELL OF FAERY 215
time Boand went through pride to test the well's power, and
declared it had no secret force which could shatter her form,
and thrice she walked withershins round the well. Where-
upon three waves from the well break over her and deprive
her of a thigh, and one of her hands. Then she, fleeing
her shame, turns seaward, with the water behind her as far
as Boyne mouth. Now she was the mother of Oengus son of
the Dagda.' 1
The hazels mentioned in the Sinann story as the sources of
inspiration and knowledge are elsewhere more akin to the
magic satisfying fruit which the dames of Faery give to Connla
and Maelduin and Teigue. Thus the ditinshenchas of Cnogba
tells how Englic daughter of Elcmain loved Oengus Mac ind
Oc. ' There was a meeting for games held between Cletech and
sid in Broga, and thither the Bright folk and the Fairy Hosts
of Erin resorted every Halloween, having a moderate share of
food, to wit, a nut.' ^
Allegorical Fragments in the Dinnshenchas.
The very texts which yield these glimpses of the Otherworld,
the circumstances of which are presented in the most material
form, also yield myths in the very latest stage of development ;
^ Nechtan, in which the first syllable is equated by Prof. Rhys with
Nept, would thus seem to be not only the earliest lord of the waters, and
of the mysterious marvel land connected with the waters, but, as the
father of the Dagda, he corresponds to the Greek Kronos, flither of Zeus.
In this remarkable legend we have, if I mistake not, the most archaic Irish
version, and one perhaps as archaic as found in tlie records of any Aryan
people, of how the god world became man's world, or, to express it in
terms of the Hebrew myth, how evil and knowledge and death came into
the world.
- Bodley Dinn., No. 43.
2i6 CATHAIR MOR'S VISION
an example is furnished by the dimishenchas of Loch Garman : ^
'Cathair Mor had a vision in which he saw a hundreded hospital-
ler's daughter, with a beautiful form, and every colour in her
raiment, and she was pregnant. Eight hundred years she was
thus until she brought forth a manchild, and on the day he
was born he was stronger than his mother. They begin to
fight, and his mother found no place to avoid him save by
going through the midst of the son. A lovely hill was over
them both; higher than every hill, with hosts thereon. A
beginning tree like gold stood upon the hill ; because of its
height it could reach the clouds. In its leaves was every
melody -, and its fruits, when the wind touched it, specked the
ground. The choicest of fruit was each of them. Thereat
Cathair awoke and summoned his wizard. " I will rede that,"
said he : " the damsel is the river Slaney ; these are the colours
in her raiment, artists of every kind without sameness. This
is the hundreded hospitaller who was her father, the Earth,
through the which come a hundred of every kind. This is the
son who was in her womb for eight hundred years, the lake
which will be born of the stream of the Slaney, and in thy
time it will come forth. Stronger the son than the mother,
the day that the lake will be born it will drown the whole river.
Many hosts there, every one a-drinking from the river and the
lake. This is the great hill above their heads, thy power over
all. This is the tree with the colour of gold and with its fruits,
thou over Ireland in its sovranty. This is the music that was
on the tops of the trees, thy eloquence in guarding and correct-
ing the judgments of the Gaels. This is the wind that would
tumble the fruit, thy liberality in dispensing jewels and
treasures. And now thou hast partaken of the rede of this
vision." '
1 R. C. XV. 431.
ALLEGORICAL EXAMPLES 217
Here we see the accessories and scenery of the Happy
Otherworld, themselves mythic in their ultimate essence,
deliberately wrested to the purposes of a new symbolism, so
that a portion of the old nature myth masquerades as an
allegory of human conditions. A still prettier example is
furnished by the dinnshenchas of Sliab Fuait (Fuat's Mountain). ^
We saw {supra, page 191) the name 'isle of truth' given to
the oversea Elysium. Some such designation would seem
to have originated the following story : ' When Fuat, son of
Bile, son of Brig, son of Breogann, was coming to Ireland he
visited an island on the sea, namely Inis Magdenaj or Moag-
deda, that is Mbr-bc-diada, "Great-young-divine." Whoever
set his sole upon it would tell no lie so long as he was therein.
So Fuat brought out of it a sod whereon he sat while judging
and while deciding questions. Now when he would utter
falsehood its under part would turn upwards, and its grass down
to the gravel. But when he told truth its grass would turn
upwards. And that sod is still on the mountain, and 'tis on it
lay the single grain which fell from Patrick's gelding. So
thenceforward, because of preserving the truth it is the adora-
tion of elders.'
This truth-revealing sod recalls the goblet of truth met
with in the story of Cormac's Adventures at the Court of
Manannan and the magic pig that would only boil to the
accompaniment of a true talc. In both cases a secondary
symbolism seems to engraft itself on the older myth. How
tenaciously the vision of the great-young godland haunted Irish
imagination is manifest in the connection established between
it and the national saint, to which another dimishenc/ias, that
of Findloch Cera (Cera White-lake) also bears witness : ^
* R. C. xvi. 52, Edinburgh Dinn., No. 64.
^ R. C. XV. 469, Edinburgh Dinn., No. 67.
2i8 PAGANISM AND CHRISTIANITY
'A bird-flock of the Land of Promise came to welcome
Patrick when he was on Cruachan Aigle ; and with their wings
they smote the lake so that it became as white as new milk.
And thus they ever used to say " O, help of Gaels, come, come,
and come hither," that was the invitation they had for Patrick.
So he came to the lake and blessed it.'
Here, if the machinery be borrowed from an earlier non-
Christian world, a point I by no means wish to prejudge at
this stage of the investigation, the sentiment is intensely
Christian. For us moderns indeed, in especial for the lovers
of the Gaelic genius as it manifests itself in history, the pathos
and beauty of this exquisite legend lie in the meeting and
attempted reconciliation of the two opposed ideals, the appeal
of which to the Gaelic heart and fancy has been equally
potent throughout so many centuries. The note of scorn and
aversion is not lacking in Irish mythic literature ^ towards the
milder, bloodless charms of the new faith, though the grounds
upon which this aversion is based appeal more forcibly to
us than is the case with the protest of classic or Scandinavian
Paganism ; but in the Irish mind alone have the two worlds
sought to kiss each other, nowhere else has the Christian monk
heard the wailing cry of the birds of Faery as they await the
advent of the apostle.
^ E.g. in the ballad Ossianic literature, found in a worn-down condition
in the Book of the Dean of Lismore, a Scotch Gaelic MS. of the end of
the fifteenth century. I have, Waifs and Strays, vol. iv., xxxv, drawn
attention to remarkable parallels between the utterances placed in the
mouth of Oisin and those assigned to the Welsh warrior poet Llywarch
Hen. I believe that I was the first, and am still the only student, to
insist upon t^^e difference between the prose and ballad forms of the Ossianic
legend, the one Christian, the other Pagan in spirit.
>«a|tfir'T*,. •'■■>• ■ ■ "rrfrnjTK
CHAPTER VIII
THE IRISH VISION OF THE CHRISTL\N HEAVEN.
The Fis Adamnain (Adamnan's Vision), summary and discussion — The
Tidings of Doomsday — The fourfold division of the Irish Christian future
\sorld — Professor Zimmer's explanation of the term tir tairngiri.
Adamnan's Vision.
Before passing in rexiew the many forms of the conceptions
of the Happy Othen\-orld noted in the preceding pages,
attempting some classification, and endeavouring to frame
some scheme of historical development which may enable us
better to understand them, we must glance at texts professedly
Christian in origin and character. The Irish vision of the
Christian heaven cannot but throw light upon the Irish pre-
sentment of the Happy Othem^orld. My first quotation will
be from the so-called Fis Adamnain, a vision of Heaven and
Hell ascribed to the celebrated abbot of lona who died
in 703.^ The ascription is certainly erroneous; historical
evidence shows that the text cannot be older than the late
eighth century, and it may possibly be as late as the early
eleventh century, the period to which the existing redaction
is assigned, on linguistic grounds, by the editor. But, as I
' Edited and translated by Mr, Whitley Stokes, Calcutta, 1S66. Of
the fifty copies that were printed of the precious tract, I possess perhaps
the most precious, a gift from the editor to his painter-poet friend, Dante
Gabriel Rossetti.
219
220 ADAMNAN'S VISION
must again point out, this evidence is only valid in so far
as the age of the extant redaction is concerned, and does not
allow us to deny that the text may have been compiled at a
much earlier date. Professor Zimmer regards it as belonging
to the ninth century. I quote the more salient passages :
' Now this is the first land whereto they came, the Land of
the Saints. A land fruitful, shining is that land. Assemblies
divers, wonderful, there, with cloaks of white linen about them,
with hoods pure white over their heads. The Saints of the
East of the world in their assembly apart in the East of the
Land of the Saints. The Saints of the West of the World
likewise in the West of the same Land. Furthermore, the
Saints of the North of the World, and of the South of it, in
their two vast assemblies South and North. Every one then,
who is in the Land of the Saints, is nigh unto the hearing of
the melodies and to the contemplation of the Vessel wherein
are nine grades of Heaven according to their steps and accord-
ing to their order.
' As to the Saints, again, at one time they sing marvellous
music, praising God. At another time they are silent at the
music of Heaven's family : for the Saints need not aught else
but to hear the music whereto they listen, and to contemplate
the light which they see, and to sate themselves with the odour
which is in the Land.
' A wonderful Prince there is too, South-East of them, face
to face with them, and a glassen veil between them (and him),
and a golden portico to the South of him. Through this they
perceive the form and separation of Heaven's family. How-
beit, there is neither veil nor darkness between Heaven's
family and the Saints, but they are in clearness and in the
Saint's presence on the side overagainst them continually.
' A fiery circle furthermore (is) round about that land, and
ADAM NAN'S VISION 221
thereinto and thereout (fareth) every one, and it hurteth
not.
* The troops and the assembUes, then, that are in the Land
of Saints as we have said, ever are they Uving in that great
glory until the Great Meeting of Doom, so that on the Day of
the Judgment the Righteous Brehon may range them in the
stations and in the places wherein they shall abide beholding
God's countenance without veil, without shadow between
them (and him) through the ages of ages.
' But though great and though vast are the sheen and the
radiance that are in the Land of Saints as we have said, vaster
a thousand times the splendour that is in a plain of Heaven's
family around the Throne of the Lord himself. Thus, then, is
that throne, as a canopied chair with four columns of precious
stone beneath it. Yea though there should not be rapture to
any one save the harmonious singing together of these four
columns, enough to him there were of glory and of delight-
fulness. Three noble Birds in the chair before the King, and
their mind on their Creator for ever : that is their office. They
likewise celebrate the eight hours of prayer, praising and mag-
nifying the Lord, with chanting of Archangels coming thereon.'
* The City, then, wherein is that throne, thus it is, and seven
glassen walls with divers colours around it.
' Loftier is each wall than the other. The platform and
lowest base of the City is of white glass with the sun's counten-
ance upon it, made changeful with blue and purple and green
and every hue besides.
' A family beautiful, very meek, very gentle, again without
want of any good thing on them, are they who dwell in that
City. I'or none reach it and none dwell in it continually save
only pure saints or pilgrims devoted to God. Their array.
222 ADAMNAN'S VISION
however, and their ranging, it is hard to know how it happened,
for there is not a back of any of them, or his side towards
another. But it is thus the unspeakable might of the Lord
hath arranged them and kept them, face to face in their ranks
and in their circles equally high all round about the throne,
with splendour and with delightfulness, and their faces all
towards God.
' A chancel-rail of glass (there is) between every two choirs,
with excellent adornment of red gold and of silver thereon,
with beautiful ranks of precious stone and with changefulness
of divers gems, and with stalls and crowns of carbuncle on the
rails of that chancel. Three precious stones, then, with a
melodious voice and with the sweetness of music between
every two chief assemblies, and their upper halves as flam-
beaux aflame. Seven thousand angels in the forms of chief
lights irradiating and undarkening the City round about.
Seven thousand others in its very midst flaming for ever round
the royal City. The men of the world in one place, though
they be very numerous, the odour of the top of one light of
those lights would suffice them with food.
' Thus, then, is that City, to wit : a Kingdom without pride,
without haughtiness, without falsehood, without blasphemy,
without fraud, without pretence, without reddening, without
blushing, without disgrace, without deceit, without envy, with-
out pride, without disease, without sickness, without poverty,
without nakedness, without destruction, without extinction,
without hail, without snow, without wind, without wet, without
noise, without thunder, without darkness, without coldness, —
a Kingdom noble, admirable, delightful, with fruitfulness (?)
with light, with odour of a plenteous Earth, wherein is delight
of every goodness.'
ADAMNAN'S VISION 223
A certain community of style and literary method between
the writer of these passages and the previously cited de-
scriptions of the Happy Otherworld cannot, I think, fail to
strike the reader. There is the same fondness for detail, the
same richness of colour, the same achievement of effect by
accumulation rather than by selection of images. In addition
to this there are many actual parallels between the Christian
and what may, provisionally, be called the non-Christian de-
scriptions of Elysium. Its difference from this world is in-.
dicated in both cases by the absence of earthly imperfections,
partly physical, partly spiritual ; here the resemblance is very
close. In the enumeration of the positive, as distinguished
from the negative characteristics of this land, there is, as may
be imagined, less likeness ; practically the only point of contact
is furnished by the insistence of both upon the charms of
music as one of the main elements of Otherworld happiness.
In one respect alone is there a remarkable material parallelism ;
the fiery circle which Adamnan beholds encompassing that
land recalls at once the encircling rampart of flame through
which the companions of Maelduin behold the feasting of
the island dwellers {supra^ p. 169).
The Tidings of Doomsday.
A text of the same date as Adamnan's vision, likewise edited
and translated l:)y Mr. Whitley Stokes, is the Tidings of Dooms-
day.^ But it differs in many important respects from Adamnan's
vision. It is far more of a paraphrase of Scriptural and patristic
writings, more insistent upon the horrors of hell, less inspired
in its vision of the Beatific City. For this very reason certain
peculiarities which it presents arc worthy special notice. The
writer distinguishes four troops of the human race. These
' R. C. iv. 243.
224 TIDINGS OF DOOMSDAY
are the fiiali non valde, the bad, not greatly bad, who go to
hell after judgment ; the malt valde, the worst of the human
race, who go to hell at once without adjudication ; the bofii
non valde, the good who are not greatly good, who after
judgment go into reward ; the botii valde who at once pass
into heaven and all golden rewards. These are : ' the saints
and the righteous, who have fulfilled the commands of the
Lord and his teaching . . . the folk of gentleness and tender-
ness, of charity and of mercy, and of every fair deed besides,
the folk of virginity and penitence, and widows faithful for
God's sake. ... A place wherein is the Light that excels every
light. . . . Life eternal without death ; clamour of joy without
sorrow ; health without sickness ; youth without old age ;
peace without quarrel ; rest without adversity ; freedom with-
out labour, without need of food, raiment or sleep ; holiness
without age, without decay ; radiant unity of angels ; delights
of paradise ; feasting without interruption among nine ranks
of angels and of holy folks of heaven and holy assemblies of
the most noble King, and among holy spiritual hues of heaven
and brightness of sun in a kingdom, high, noble, admirable,
lovable, just, adorable, great, smooth, honeyed, free, restful,
radiant ; in plains of heaven, in delightful stations, in golden
chairs, in glassen beds, in silvern stations wherein every one
shall be placed according to his own honour and right and
welldoing. . . . Vast, then, are the fruitfulness and the light,
the lovableness and the stability of that City; its rest, and
its sweetness ; its security, its preciousness, its smoothness,
its dazzlingness, its purity, its lovesomeness, its whiteness, its
melodiousness, its holiness, its bright purity, its beauty, its
mildness, its height, its splendour, its dignity, its venerableness,
its plenteous peace, its plenteous unity.'
In its insistence upon material details this description of the
FOURFOLD FUTURE WORLD 225
joys of heaven recalls far more than does Adamnan's vision,
the positive side of the ideal set forth in Bran's Voyage or in
the Wooing of Etain. It is, however, the fourfold division of
the human race that concerns us chiefly. Professor Zimmer
has argued (p. 286 et seq.) that this is a trait peculiar to
Irish literature, recurring also in Latin Christian texts due to
Irishmen, e.g. in Tundale's Vision. He accounts for it in the
following way : the Christian writers of Adamnan's Vision, of
the Tidings of Doomsday, and of similar texts were familiar
with the Happy Otherworld of native legend ; it was evidently
not the paradise of the Christian scriptures, but why should it
not be the resting-place of such, as unworthy to pass at once
to heavenly beatitude, might yet look forward to entering after
the last judgment upon the joys of eternal life? Room was
thus found in the belief of Christian Ireland for this antique
Elysium, to correspond to which a provisional hell was also
imagined, and the fourfold division of the human race after
death was complete. As evidence of the development thus
postulated, Professor Zimmer cites a text ^ preserved by the
Book of the Dun Cow which thus describes Elijah in Paradise :
' Elijah under the tree of life in Paradise, and a gospel in his
hand to preach to the souls there. Then come the birds
that they may be eating the tree's berries ; great berries, sooth
are those, sweeter are they than every honey, and more in-
toxicating than every wine.' Now this text was known to the
writer of the Voyage of Snegdus and Mac Riagla (as we have
already seen, one of the latest imrama, and a work of the
middle or late ninth century)^ who brings his travellers to the
' From the so-called Felire Angus, a collection of brief hagiological
legends arranged according to the order of the calendar. Edited by
Mr. Whitley Stokes.
* Supra, Ch. iv.
P
226 CHRISTIAN IRISH ACCOUNTS
isle where dwell Enoch and Elijah and the men of the race of
the Gael, who abide there until the Judgment ' for good they
are, without sin, without wickedness or crime.' ^ But this land
is clearly distinguished by the writer from the Christian heaven
to which his wanderers also attain, and which is described as
'a great lofty island, and therein all delightful and hallowed.
Good was the king that abode in the island, holy and righteous ;
and great was his host, and noble was the dwelling of that
King, for there were a hundred doors in that house, and an
altar at every door, and a priest at every altar offering Christ's
body.'
The import of this instance, if correctly interpreted, is far-
reaching. If the ninth century author of the Inrani Snegdus
had before him two partly parallel accounts of a paradisiacal
land, which he carefully distinguished, whilst, at the same
time he gave Christian form to what originally was non-
Christian, the great majority of the legends we have already
considered, and which either presuppose a similar evolution
or are unaffected by it because earlier, must be carried much
further back than mere linguistic and palasographical evidence
would warrant. ^
Action and reaction upon each other of Christian and non-
Christian conception are likewise deduced by Professor
Zimmer from the use by Irish ecclesiastical writers of the
seventh and eighth centuries of the term tir tairngiri ' land of
promise.' ^ This designates at once the promised land of
1 Mr. Whitley Stokes' translation, R. C. ix. 23.
'^ I should point out that I by no means accept without reservation
Professor Zimmer's explanation of the fourfold division. It is quite
possible that this feature is purely Christian in or'gin. But the general
effect of tne argument remains the same. The point deserves careful
study from the expert in Christian eschatology.
2 What follows is summarised from loc. cit. pp. 287, 288.
TIR TAIRNGIRI 227
Canaan, flowing with milk and honey, and the heavenly
kingdom. Thus the glossator of the Latin Irish commentary
on the Epistles of St. Paul, preserved in the library of Wurz-
burg University, who wrote in the eighth and possibly even in
the seventh century, notes on Hebrews vi. 15, 'And so, after
he (Abraham) had patiently endured, he obtained this promise '
(or, to quote the Vulgate, ' adeptus est repromissionem ') as
follows : tir tairngeri vel regnum coelorum. On Hebrews iv.
4, ' And God did rest on the seventh day from all his Avorks '
the comment runs : 'God found peace after the creation, the
people of Israel in tir tairngeri, the people of the new
covenant in regno cxloricfn.' Again, ist Corinthians x. 4,
' they drank of that Spiritual Rock that followed them, and
that Rock was Christ ' suggests this comment : ' Christ is the
mystical rock from which gushed forth a great stream of
spiritual doctrine which quenched the thirst of spiritual Israel,
that is, of the saints in the desert of the world, when they
asked for tire tairngiri innambio ' (the land of promise of the
living ones).
Here then the term tir tairngiri, used elsewhere in a
definitely Christian sense, whether of the earthly or the
heavenly Canaan, is conjoined with and seems an equivalent
of tir innambeo, the land of the living ones, the very expression
by which the summoning damsel in Echtra Condla designates
the land from which she comes. Professor Zimmer surmises
that this identification — natural enough he considers when one
bears in mind the inevitable similarities between the two
conceptions of a happy land flowing with milk and honey —
brought about in later times the substitution of tir tairngiri for
the older tir innambco as a designation of the pre-Christian
Elysium. Thus the poet Gilla im chomded hua Cormac,
who probably died in 1 1 24, and who has left a poem on
228 TIR TAIRNGIRI
the history of Ireland preserved in the Book of Leinster, writes
concerning Connla, ' after the seafaring of Connla, the ruddy
son of Conn, to the land of promise {cotir tairngire), Art Oil
remained alone ' ; thus, too, the late re-telling of Cormac's
adventures at Manannan's court, which has come down to us
in place of the pre-eleventh century original version, describes
the mystic country as tir tairngeri.
Although Professor Zimmer's interpretation of these facts
is perhaps not quite as self-evident as he states, still I think
that, on the whole, this evidence bears out his contention as
to the early and pre-Christian nature of the Irish Elysium.
I should add that I have purposely refrained from citing a
number of Irish-Christian texts such as the Vision of Fursa,
Tundale's Vision, The Purgatory of Patrick, etc., from a desire
to restrict the lines of this investigation to what is absolutely
necessary to elucidate the origin of the account found in Bran.
CHAPTER IX
THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN
IRISH LEGEND
The two types, their relation — The imrama literature in relation to Christian
literature— Modifications due to the Renaissance period — Post- Renaissance
development — Didactic and free romantic tendency — Conclusion : inade-
quacy of the hypothesis of sole Christian origin for stories of the Bran type.
A SUFFICIENTLY large number of examples of the Elysium
conception have now been considered, the facts concerning it
have been instanced with sufficient fulness to enable us to
sketch, if only roughly, its development in Irish mythico-
romantic literature. Starting with texts that approve them-
selves on linguistic and historical grounds to belong substan-
tially to the eighth century at the latest, we can distinguish
two main types of the conception, the Oversea, and the Hollow
Hill type. In the former the magic land lies across the
western main, it is marked by every form of natural beauty, it
possesses every sort of natural riches, abundance of animals,
of fish, of birds, of fruit ; its inhabitants are beauteous, joyful ;
a portion of the land is dwelt in by women alone ; all earthly ills,
both physical and moral, are absent ; in especial, age brings
neither decay, nor death, nor diminution of the joy of life ; love
brings neither strife, nor satiety, nor remorse. Tiie lord of
the land is Manannan (Bran) or Boadag (Connla) ; its in-
habitants may and do summon mortals thither, alluring them
by the magic music of the fairy branches of its trees, or by
229
230 TWO TYPES OF OTHERWORLD
the magic properties of its inexhaustibly satisfying fruit. Time
passes there with supernatural rapidity (Bran), the mortal who
has once penetrated there may not return unscathed to earth
(Bran ; the last trait is probably impUed in Connla).
In the Hollow Hill type (the Wooing of Etain), the wonder-
land is not figured as lying across the sea, but rather, though
this is implied in the general account of the beings who
inhabit it and is not definitely stated in the description of the
country itself, within the sid or fairy hills. No special
insistence is laid upon the immortality of its inhabitants,
though this too is practically implied by what the story-teller
relates concerning them, nor is the absence of strife singled
out as a characteristic feature. In other respects both the
positive and negative qualifications of this Elysium correspond
fairly to those of the other type. Women do not, however,
play the same important part, there is no special portion of
the land set aside for them, it is not the dames of Faery who
come to woo mortal heroes, but a prince of the land who
strives to allure thither a mortal maiden.
Both types betray signs of Christian influence and have
been interpolated in a Christian sense ; in both, however, the
machinery of the story as well as its animating spirit are
wholly un-Christian.
The leading incidents of the Oversea type reappear in the
imravia, a genre of story-telling which would seem to have
developed between the middle of the seventh and the end of
the ninth century. In the oldest extant imratn, that of
Maelduin, which may date back to the early eighth century,
a connected account of the Happy Otherworld is presupposed
by the way in which fragments of the conception figure dis-
connectedly in it. The imrama derive from the Oversea type,
and carry on the Christianising process begun in Bran and
DEVELOPMENT OF TYPES 231
Connla; the latest of the old imrama, that of Snegdus and
MacRiagla, is entirely Christian in spirit ; belonging, as this
does, to the late ninth century at the latest, it enables us to
estimate the time necessary for the completion of this trans-
forming process. By divorcing the incidents of the Oversea
type of the Happy Otherworld from their original surroundings,
the iinrama altered their nature and shunted them off the
main line of Irish romance, but thereby won for them entrance,
into general European literature, and, with the Navigatio S.
Brendani, a permanent place in Christian legend.
Purely Christian texts of the same period (seventh to
ninth centuries) picture the Christian heaven in a style and in
terms that strikingly recall those applied to the magic wonder-
land ; the same texts have one marked peculiarity in their
eschatology (the fourfold division of the human race after
death), which may possibly be due to the influence of a pre-
Christian Elysium,
The Oversea type is continued in the imravia literature and
changes its character ; saving the itnratna, its influence upon
Irish romance between the eighth and the twelfth century is
not marked. It is otherwise with the other, the fairy hill
type. The sid and the sid dwellers are prominent elements
in a whole group of heroic sagas, the redaction of which,
in the form under which they have come down to us,
belongs to the earlier portion of this period of four
centuries. Important as are the differences between the
presentment of the Happy Otherworld in Etain's Wooing and
in Bran's Voyage, they are less marked than if we compare
Bran with other tales belonging to the same type as Etain's
Wooing. The latter does not insist upon immortality or
absence from strife as characteristics of the Otherworld, but
its evidence cannot be positively claimed against the presence
232 DEVELOPMENT OF TYPES
of these elements of the Elysium ideal ; tales like Cuchulinn's
Sick Bed, on the contrary, treat death and warfare as common
incidents of Otherworld life, and apparently ignore both the
supernatural lapse of time and the fatal result of the mortal
visitor's return to earth. At the same time there are
points of contact with the Oversea type such as the amorous
nature of the dames of Faery ; and moreover there is a definite
connection of the magic land with water. In the story of
Loegaire, son of Crimthann, which probably assumed its final
shape considerably later than did Cuchulinn's Sick Bed, the
warlike note in the presentment of the Otherworld is in-
tensified, but so is also the connection with water, an under-
instead of across- wave locale appearing for the first time,
whilst the supernatural lapse of time and the impossibility of
scathless return to earth are both prominent, the latter
incident in the form it was destined to retain in later literature.
Whilst the Otherworld conception was thus supplying matter
for narratives of an heroic or legendary character, it was also
being used in stories of a ruder, more popular cast, such as
Nera's Adventures ; here we note, seemingly, the rude archaic
germs of incidents which elsewhere have assumed a more
dignified or romantic aspect. Whether this tale does or does
not represent a more primitive stage of the sid belief than
that represented in Etain's Wooing and other heroic sagas, it
certainly approximates far more closely to the fairy creed of
the modern Irish peasant.
The middle and latter part of this period of four centuries,
during which all these texts were being transcribed from MS,
into MS. until they reached the great vellums which have
preserved them to us, witnessed the systematisation of the
belief of the Irish concerning the pre-Christian history of this
race. The beings whom the sagas and legends pictured as
dwelling in the sid or in the oversea Elysium were made to do
DEVELOPMENT OF TYPES 233
duty as Kings of a pre-Christian race, the Tuatha De Danann,
who had held sway in Ireland centuries before Christ. This
annalistic scheme, due as it was to the leading scholars of the
time, could not fail to influence heroic romance ; the ollamh
(professional historian and story-teller) was bound to note
how beings who, according to traditions handed down to him,
were immortal and gifted with superhuman qualities had a
definite date and place in the kingly succession assigned to
them by the men whom he reverenced as the most learned
teachers of the day. In how far the existence, side by side,
of these two conflicting beliefs — in the Tuatha De Danann as
men who had lived and reigned and passed away, in the same
beings as immortal and superhuman and powerful heroes in
an enchanted land — may account for certain puzzling features
in extant Irish romance is hard to say. M. d'Arbois de
Jubainville has surmised that an earlier generation of these
Folk of the Goddess, the original protagonists indeed of the Irish
God-saga, has been supplanted in later romance by personages
who figure slightly, if at all, in the earliest texts in order to avoid
clashing with the definite statements of the annalists.
Whilst Irish tradition was being run into an historic mould,
odds and ends of it were at the same time being garnered up
in the precious collection of the Dinnsheiichas. In this we
find many traces of the Happy Otherworld, and examples of
both types we have distinguished. We meet with Manannan
and with Clidna, beings connected with the sea, and amorous
as such beings always are ; we meet with Angus, lord of the
fairy mound, within which is an enchanted palace ; we meet
with the magic food and drink, the fairy sweetness of the
music that we have found elsewhere. But we also find a
numljer of tales, which, far more than aught else preserved in
Irish literature, bear the impress of myth as distinguished from
heroic or romantic legend. And side by side with these we find
234 LATER DEVELOPMENT
expressions of what are seemingly old myths in terms of modern
allegory, as well as attempts at reconciliation of the Christian
and pre-Christian ideals, both dear to the story-teller.
The period from 1050 to 1 150 marks the close of the great
intellectual movement which co-ordinated Irish knowledge,
determined the forms of literary expression, established cadres
and models for the literary faculty. In romance composed
after 1150 a difference of tone is at once recognisable, a new
care for proportion and order, a didactic and allegorising
vein. These characteristics will, I think, have been noticed
by the readers of Cormac's Adventures in the Land of
Promise, of the Agallamh na Senorach, of Teigue, son of Cian.
It is remarkable on the whole what little change there is in
the presentment of the Happy Otherworld. Cormac's Ad-
ventures, for instance, in spite of its moralising, allegorical
tendency, retains the essentials of the older tale, whilst the
leading incidents and main outline of the Bran-Connla story
are to be found wellnigh unaltered in the eighteenth century
poem on Oisin's stay in Tir na n-Og. Both types of the
Otherworld conception are represented in post-twelfth-century
romance, and if more prominence has been given in the
preceding pages to versions of the Oversea type, it is simply
due to the fact that these are more beautiful and intrinsically
interesting. The Ossianic cycle is, however, rich in stories
concerning the relations of Fianna and Tuatha De Danann,
the latter of whom lead substantially the same life as that
pictured in pre-twelfth-century texts.
Just as in the seventh to eighth centuries the imrama
literature represents a freer, more romantic handling of
traditiond material, a similar tendency manifests itself in
twelfth to thirteenth century romances like the Agallamh or
Teisue, son of Cian. Both are works of conscious literary
art, both, using the word in no invidious sense, are pastiches.
CHRISTIAN AND PAGAN FORMS 235
both, that is to say, take up an older literary convention and
readapt it for their purpose. In both, too, the disposition is
manifest to reconcile with the orthodox Christian ideal some-
thing which was felt to be remote from, if not opposed to
Christianity in its essence. This Christianising process is far
more subtle and insinuating than that we have noted in the
pre-twelfth century literature, but in the one case, as in the
other, in proportion as it is more thorough, as the non-
Christian element is more completely transformed or eliminated,
in like proportion does the work forfeit its popular character,
cease to be a formative factor in the development of the
national romance. The stage of Fenian romance, represented
by the Agallarnh na Senorach, in which Caoilte, last of the old
hero race, is a dutiful follower of Patrick, has passed away
from the popular consciousness, whilst this still retains the vivid
outline of the defiant pagan, Oisin, reviling the Christian
saint, and lamenting the pride and glory of his youth. In
vain did some ninth or tenth century poet picture the bird-
flock of the Land of Promise churning the waters milk-white
in their passionate appeal to the national saint ; the people of
Ireland are mindful to this very day of songs and warblings
older than the cleric's bell, and wholly unaffected by its tones.
The foregoing sketch, imperfect as it is, disposes, I think,
of the hypothesis that the imaginings and fancies set forth in
Bran, Connla, and later tales derive wholly from Christian
writings. Not only would such an hypothesis altogether fail
to account for the existence and mutual relations of two
distinct types of the Otherworld conception, but the effort,
maintained through so many centuries, to bring these ancient
legends within the pale of the Church is conclusive witness to'
the fact that by origin and in essence they are not Christian.
But the possibility of more far-reaching Christian influence
than is patent in the texts themselves is by no means set
236 AVALON
aside. Nor has the question of possible classic (as dis-
tinguished from Christian) influence been elucidated or even
raised. We must still note that the very oldest Irish legends,
however non-Christian in essence, do contain Christian ele-
ments, and that early Irish descriptions of Christian and pre-
Christian paradises are often strikingly alike. Further light
must be sought for in Christian literature of the period pre-
ceding the evangelisation of Ireland in so far as it sets forth
visions of heavenly bliss.
I may naturally be expected before quitting the Celtic side
of the question to say a word respecting Tennyson's well-
known description of Avalon.
The earliest analogue in the Arthurian romance is the
description in Chretien's Erec (the poem corresponding to the
Geraint of the Mabinogion and to the Enid of the Idylls) of
the ' isle de Voirre,' the realm of King Maheloas :
' En cele isle n'ot Ten tonoirre
Ne n'i chiet foudre ne tempeste,
Ne boz ne serpanz n'i areste ;
N'i fet trop chaut ne n'iverne.'
The ' isle de Voirre ' is of course Glastonbury, the iirbs
vitrce of the twelfth century Vita S. Gildce, where reigned the
regulus Melvas.
Both Chretien's mention and that of the unknown author
of the Vita S. Gildce are posterior to Geoffrey's Vita Merlitii.
Now this writer in his description of Glastonbury as Insula
Fomonwi, clearly perceived the resemblance between his
wonderland and the classic Hesperides as he cites the latter,
and then proceeds thus :
' Insula Pomorum qua; Fortunata vocatur,
Ex re nomen habet, quia per se singula profert ;
Non opus est illi sulcantibus arva colonis ;
Omnis abest cultus nisi quern cultura ministrat :
AVALON 237
Ultro foecundas segetes producit et uvas,
Nataque poma suis praetonso germine silvis ;
Omnia gignit humus vice graminis ultro redundans,'
Geoffrey himself in his history barely mentions Avalon
and that is all, but the unknown writer (cited by Ussher as
Pseudo-Gildas), in all probability a thirteenth-century Breton
(Ward, Cat. i. 274), who versified Geoffrey, amplifies this
mention in the following remarkable lines : —
' Cingitur Oceano memorabilis insula, nullis
Desolata bonis ; non fur, nee pra^do, nee hostis
Insidiatur ibi ; nee vis, nee bruma, nee asstas
Immoderata furit ; pax et coneordia, pubes
Ver manet ceternum, nee flos nee lilia desunt,
Nee rosa;, nee violae ; flores et poma sub una
Fronde gerit pomus ; habitant sine labe eruoris
Semper ibi juvenes eum virgine, nulla seneetus
Nullaque vis morbi, nullus dolor, omnia plena
Lffititia; ; nihil hie proprium, eommunia quccque.'
(San Marte's Gottfried voii Momiiouth, 435.)
which read in part as if taken from a description of Man-
annan's land. Note, too, that this land is inhabited by a
' regia virgo ' who can heal Arthur of his wounds, and compare
Liban's promise to Cuchulinn to cure him of his hurt if he
will come and live with Fann.
If we had not the Irish analogues it might be asserted that
these Avalon passages are un-Celtic, and a simple literary
development of Geoffrey's exercise upon the Hesperides
theme. But as we have the Irish analogues it is, I maintain,
far simpler to look upon the Brythonic wonder isle as akin to
the Gaelic one, leaving it uncertain for the present whether
this kinship implies prehistoric mythic community between
Gaels and Brythons, or dependence, in historic times, of
Brythonic upon Gaelic romance.^
' Cf. M. F. Lot on Glastonbury and Avalon, Romania, July 1895.
CHAPTER X
NON-IRISH CHRISTIAN AND JEWISH ANALOGUES OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD
The Phcenix episode in Maelduin — The Anglo-Saxon Phoenix, cited and
discussed — The Christian apocalypses, the Revelation of St. John, the
Revelation of Peter, the Visio Pauli, the Vision of Saturus, Barlaam and
Josaphat — The second Sibylline— The lost Ten Tribes — The Book of
Enoch — Relation of Christian to classic eschatology.
A CLEW to the direction in which we may profitably search
is furnished by the very Hterature we have been considering.
The voyage of Maelduin contains the following incident :
The wanderers reach an island inhabited by the fifteenth
man of the community of Brenainn of Birr. One day a
great bird like a cloud arrives, in its claws a branch of a
great tree bigger than an oak. After a while two great
eagles come and sleek the great bird with their bills, picking
off the lice that infest it, and plucking out its old feathers.
Then they strip the berries which grew on the branch
which the great bird had brought, and cast them into the
lake so that its foam becomes red. Into the lake goes the
great bird and washes itself therein, after which the two
eagles assist it again to thoroughly cleanse itself, and on the
third day it flies away, and swifter and stronger was its
flight than heretofore, so that it was evident to all beholders
that this was its renewal from old age into youth, according
238
PHCENIX 239
to the word of the prophet, ' Thy youth shall be renewed
like an eagle's.' ^
It is obvious to any reader fairly acquainted with
mediaeval and pre-mediaeval legend that we have here a
confused reminiscence of the Phoenix story. Now one of the
most remarkable monuments of Anglo-Saxon Christian
literature is the fine poetic version of this legend preserved
in the Exeter Book, attributed by some to Cynewulf, the
great Northumbrian poet of the late eighth century, and
certainly Cynewulfian in character. I quote from Mr.
Gollancz's version in his edition of the Exeter Book, and I
append the Latin original, of which the Anglo-Saxon is a
paraphrase. The poem opens with a description of the
paradisiacal land in which the Phoenix dwells ; this runs to
84 lines, corresponding to 30 of the Latin. I give overleaf
both in full : —
i R. C. X. 77.
240 P H GE N I X
I I have heard tell that there is far hence,
in eastern parts, a land most noble,
famed 'mong folk. That tract of earth is not
4 accessible to many o'er mid-earth,
to many chieftains ; but it is far removed,
through might of the Creator, from evil-doers.
Beauteous is all the plain, blissful with delights,
8 with all the fairest fragrances of earth ;
that island is incomparable ; noble the Maker,
lofty and in power abounding who founded that land.
There the door of Heaven's realm is ofttimes opened
12 in sight of the happy, and the joy of its harmonies is
revealed.
That is a winsome plain ; green wolds are there,
spacious beneath the skies ; nor rain, nor snow,
nor breath of frost, nor fire's blast,
i6 nor fall of hail, nor descent of rime,
nor sun's heat, nor endless cold,
nor warm weather, nor winter shower
may there work any harm, but the plain abideth,
20 happy and healthful. The noble land
is all beflowered with blossoms ; nor hills nor mountains
there stand steep, nor stony cliffs
tower there on high, as here with us ;
24 nor dells nor dales, nor mountain caves,
nor mounds nor ridges, nor aught unsmooth,
abide there, but that noble plain
flourisheth 'neath the clouds, blossoming with delight.
28 This glorious land, this region, is higher
by twelve fathom measures (as sages, wise with study,
reveal to us through wisdoin in their writings)
than any of the hills that brightly here, in our midst,
32 tower high, beneath the stars of heaven.
Serene is all that glorious plain ; sunny groves shine
there,
and winsome woody holts ; fruits fall not there,
nor bright blossoms, but the trees abide
36 for ever green, as God commanded them.
In winter and in summer the forest is alike
behung with fruits ; ne'er will the leaves
fade there beneath the sky, nor will flame injure them,
40 never through the ages until a final change
befall the world. Lo, when once the water's rush.
PHCENIX 241
I Est locus in primo felix Oriente remotus,
Qua patet a^terni maxima porta poli,
Nee tamen aestivos hiemisve propinquus adortus, ,
Sed qua Sol verno fundit ab axe diem.
5 Illic planities tractus dififundit apertos,
Nee tumulus crescit, nee cava vallis hiat ;
Sed nostros montes, quorum juga celsa putantur,
Per sex bis ulnas eminet ille locus.
Hie solis nemus est, et eonsitus arbore multa
10 Lucus, perpetuai frondis honore virens.
Cum Phcethonticis flagrasset ab ignibus axis,
Ille locus flammis inviolatus erat ;
Et cum diluvium mersisset fluctibus orbem,
242 PHCENIX
the ocean's flood, o'erspread all middle-earth,
yea, all the worlds career, yet that noble plain
44 secure 'gainst every chance, stood e'en then protected
'gainst the billowy course of those rough waves,
happy, inviolate, through the grace of God.
It shall abide thus blooming, until the coming of fire
48 and the judgment of the Lord, when the homes of death,
men's dark chambers, shall be opened.
In that land there is not hateful enmity,
nor wail, nor vengeance, nor any sign of woe,
52 nor old age, nor misery, nor narrow death,
nor loss of life, nor harm's approach,
nor sin, nor strife, nor sorry exile,
nor poverty's toil, nor lack of wealth,
56 nor care, nor sleep, nor grievous sickness,
nor winter's darts, nor tempests' tossing
rough 'neath heaven, nor doth hard frost,
with cold chill icicles, crush any creature there.
60 Nor hail nor rime descendeth thence to earth,
nor windy cloud ; nor falleth water there
driven by the wind, but limpid streams,
wondrous rare, spring freely forth ;
64 with fair bubblings, from the forests' midst,
winsome waters irrigate the soil ;
each month from the turf of the mould
sea-cold they burst, and traverse all the grove
68 at times full mightily. 'Tis the Lord's behest,
that twelve times o'er that glorious land
the joyous water-floods should sport.
The groves are all behung with blossoms,
72 with beauteous growths ; the holt's adornments,
holy 'neath heaven, fade never there,
nor do fallow blossoms, the beauty of the forest trees,
fall then to earth ; but there, in wondrous wise,
76 the boughs upon the trees are ever laden,
the fruit is aye renewed, through all eternity.
On that grassy plain there standeth green,
decked gloriously, through power of the Holy One,
80 the fairest of all groves. ' The wood knoweth no breach
in all its beauty ; holy fragrance resteth there
throughout that land ; ne'er shall it be changed,
to all eternity, until He who first created it
shall end His ancient work of former days.
PHCENIX
Deucalioneas exuperavit aquas.
243
15 Non hue exangues morbi, non segra senectus,
Nee mors crudelis, nee metus asper adit ;
Nee scelus infandum, nee opum vesana eupido,
Aut Metus, aut ardens caddis amore furor ;
Luctus aeerbus abest, et egestas obsita pannis.
20 Et eurae insommes, et violenta fames.
Non ibi tempestas, nee vis furit horrida venti ;
Nee gelido terram rore pruina tegit ;
Nulla super campos tendit sua vellera nubes ;
Nee eadit ex alto turbidus humor aqua;.
25 Sed fons in medio est, quern vivum nomine dieunt.
Perspieuus, lenis, duleibus uber aquis.
Qui semel erumpens per singula tempora raensum
Duodecies undis irrigat omne nemus.
Hie genus arboreum proeero stirpite surgens
30 Non lapsura solo mitia poma gerit.
244 THE PHCENIX LEGEND
I have quoted this passage in full, for its intrinsic beauty
and for the interest it presents in connection with the present
investigation. The Latin poem contains 1 70 lines in all ;
these correspond to 386 of the Anglo-Saxon version, but this
adds 300 lines in which the story of the Phcenix is elaborately
allegorised in a Christian sense. The Latin is ascribed to
Lactantius, an ascription as old as Gregory of Tours, who
alludes to it in a work written before 582 a.d. ; the sixth
century Isidore also knew it, and looks upon verses 25-28 as
descriptive of Paradise. Modern authority favours the tradi-
tional authorship,^ and Ebert detects a Christian ring in
certain passages. Be this as it may, the tone of the Latin is
manifestly less Christian than that of the Anglo-Saxon, whilst,
in the former, machinery and accessories are Pagan in the
main. When it is remembered that the Phoenix story first
appears in Herodotus, that, to cite no other testimonies, it
is found fully developed in Ovid {Met. xv.), and is retold after
Lactantius without any admixture of Christianity by Claudian,
it is plain that the Christian is the intrusive element. But
when we compare Lactantius' Phoenix with any other known
form of the story, we find that its distinguishing feature is
that description of the happy eastern land, where the Phoenix
dwells in the grove of the sun, which so closely recalls the
western wonder-realm of which Manannan is lord, or the sid
which acknowledges the sway of Midir. Is this then a specific
Christian contribution to the Phoenix legend ? if so, does not
the knowledge of that legend in Ireland give some colour to
the surmise that this early fourth century Latin poem is in
part the source of the brilliant descriptions found in the Irish
romances of the seventh and eighth centuries ? To state the
^ Cf. Riese, Rhein. Mus. xxxi. ; Ebert, s.v. Lactantius, in Herzog and
Plitt.
THE PHCENIX LEGEND 245
surmise is to beget doubt in it ; but we must carry "the investi-
gation deeper into the past before we can put it on one
side.
In the meantime let us note that the Phoenix legend is of
-Egyptian origin so far as we know ; that it also, like the Bran
story, involves the idea of re-birth, as well as of a country free
from all the ills of this mortal life ; and that neither the Latin
nor the Anglo-Saxon poem identify this country with the
heaven of orthodox eschatology, with the paradise of orthodox
biblical history, or with the millennial period deduced by early
Christian writers, both orthodox and heretical, from certain
sayings of Christ.^
^ It is worth while to state concisely the main points in which the Anglo-
Saxon differs from the Latin Phoenix. The dwelling-place of the magic
bird is an island ; it is removed from the might of evil-doers ; heaven is
visible from it ; its trees are not only ever green, but bear perpetual fruit ;
the land will disappear at the world's end, but abide blooming until the
judgment.
These traits are perhaps so general in character, or arise in part so
naturally out of the more definitely Christian tone of the Anglo-Saxon
poem, that any argument based upon them should not be pushed too far.
At the same time it is significant that in these particulars the Anglo-
Saxon poem approximates to the Irish vision of heaven or the great
Pleasant Plain, and allows the conjecture of Irish influence thereby. As
is well known, Northumbrii, to which district the Anglo-Saxon Phccnix
must be assigned, was evangelised from Ireland, and the closest relations
subsisted for many years between the two lands; Irish saints, such as
Fursa, the hero of the oldest Irish vision of heaven and hell, travelled and
were held in high honour in Britain ; Nortliumbrian kings, such as the
seventh century Aldfrcd, passed years of exile in Ireland and became pro-
ficient in Irish letters. There was opportunity and to spare for Christian
Ireland, at that period the chief centre of intellectual life in Western
Europe, to have influenced the rising Christian literature of eighth century
Northundjria.
Interesting questions arc raised by the Pha^nix stoiy in Maclduin's
246 THE PHCENIX LEGEND
As the Christian element in the Phoenix seems to comprise
the Elysium description it is to Christian documents that we
must turn for analogues. The work of comparison has been
singularly facilitated by a recent discovery. Formerly, with
the exception of the Revelation of John, we possessed no early
detailed statement of Christian ideas about life in the other
world. The Revelation of Peter, a document of high age, of
wide popularity and authority in the early Church, happily
supplies the need, and furnishes us with an account of which
later apocalyptic writings manifestly made considerable use, so
that it, far more than the canonical Book of Revelation,
must be regarded as the main source of the extensive Christian
literature in which Heaven and Hell are described in the form
of a vision. 1
As far as the Heaven descriptions are concerned it is obvious
that there is likely to be overlapping in the account of Heaven
proper, and of the Old Testament Paradise ; that the expected
millennial dispensation preceding the final judgment would
Voyage. Does it represent a lost Latin version, or are its peculiarities
due to ignorance and caprice of the Irish story-teller? In all other forms
of the legend fire is the purifying and regenerating element to which the
aged Phoenix resorts. True, the bird is represented as bathing twelve
limes, and Gregory of Tours in his account of the poem mentions a bath
immediately preceding the Phcenix's self-immolation. This passage is
found neither in the Latin nor in the Anglo-Saxon, but it may have
figured in the form known to the Irish romancer and have suggested to
him the incident he narrates. But we may also detect the influence of
that antique Irish legend of the Well of Wisdom and Inspiration deriving
its virtue from the magic berries that fall into it, cited supra (p. 214) in
the Sinann dinnshenchas.
^ Unearthed in the cemetery of Akhim in Upper Egypt, together with
fragments of the apocryphal Gospel of Peter, and the lost Greek text of
the Book of Enoch. The Revelation of Peter was first edited by M.
Bouriant (Paris, 1892). I use Mr. James's edition, Cambridge, 1892.
CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC 247
probably be depicted with much the same colours 5 and that,
in later times, when the millennial belief had waned, the
substance of these descriptions would be used in the portrayal
of an earthly Utopia, or even of what may be called a legendary
fairy land, the poem of the Phoenix being an instance in point.
As Rohde has well remarked ' die reine Idylle ist ihrer Natur
nach eintonig,' and the fact that these different conceptions
may all be set forth in much the same manner need not
necessarily imply dependence of the one upon the other.
That is a point to be determined by other considerations
besides the greater or less similarity of the traits under which
the beauteous country is described.
The Revelations of John and Peter.
The oldest and most famous of the Christian apocalyptic
writings, the only one which has been admitted, though with
many doubts, into the canon, the Revelation of St. John the
Divine, affords but little material for comparison. ^ Such
passages as vii. 16: 'They shall hunger no more, neither
thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any
heat ' ; or xxi. 4 : ' and there shall be no more death, neither
sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain,' are
at once too general in character and too obviously dependent
upon purely ethical ideas which have already found expression
in the Prophetic and post-Prophetic phase of Judaism. The
apocryphal Revelation is of far more interest in this connection
than the canonical, I cite the more salient passages.
The twelve accompany Christ into the mountain and
beseech sight of one of the righteous brethren departed from
1 This is un(krstanclal)le, if, as many scholars hold, this Revelation is
in the main a Jewish work, with definite Christian additions and some
general Christian revision.
248 CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC
the world. He grants their request, and there suddenly appear
two men, * their bodies were whiter than any snow and redder
than any rose, and the red thereof was mingled with the white,
and, in a word, I cannot describe the beauty of them : for
their hair was thick and curling and bright, and beautiful upon
their face and their shoulders like a wreath woven of spikenard
and bright flowers, or like a rainbow in the sky, such was their
beauty. . . . Then the Lord showed me a very great space
outside this world shining excessively with light, and the air
that was there illuminated with the rays of the sun, and the
earth itself blooming with unfading flowers, and full of spices
and fair-flowering plants, incorruptible and bearing a blessed
fruit : and so strong was the perfume that it was borne even
to us from them. And the dwellers in that land were clad in
the raiment of angels of light, and their raiment was like their
land.'
The Revelation of Peter proceeds to describe the terrors of
Hell in elaborate detail, and, in the general feconomy as well
as in the special features of the vision vouchsafed to the
Apostles and recorded by Peter, approves itself beyond all
doubt as the model and main source of the numerous later
apocalyptic visions. The tendency in these is to reduce on
the one side, and to intolerably elaborate on the other, the
description of the abodes reserved for the blessed dead and
for the damned. I select the following passages from the
illustrative material brought together by Mr. James in his
edition of the Revelation of Peter, or in his various
publications in the Cambridge series of Texts and Studies.
Later Visions.
In the third century Vision of Saturus, Heaven is
u:escribed ' as a great space like a garden, having rose trees
■ MJ I'lllUgWg^fl ^T*^
CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC 249
and flowers of all sorts. The height of the trees' was after
the manner of a cypress, and the leaves of them sang with-
out ceasing,' the air of the land has an unspeakable sweet
odour which nourishes and satisfies the inmates.^
So too, in the fourth century Visio Pauli : ' And there were
by the banks of the river, trees planted full of fruits, and that
land was more brilliant than gold or silver ; and there were
vines growing on those date-palms, and myriads of shoots,
and myriads of clusters on each branch ; ' as for the city, ' its
light was greater than the light of the world, and greater than
gold, and walls encircle it, and four rivers encircled it flowing
with milk and honey and oil and wine.' ^
In the History of Barlaam and Josaphat, Josaphat is
' caught away by certain terrible beings, and passing through
places which he had never seen, and arriving at a plain of vast
extent, flourishing with fair and very sweet-smelling flowers,
where he saw plants of all manner of kinds, loaded with strange
and wondrous fruits, most pleasant to the eye and desirable to
touch. And the leaves of the trees made clear music to a
soft breeze and sent forth a delicate fragrance, whereof none
could tire, as they stirred. . . . And through this wondrous
and vast plain those fearful beings led him, and brought him
to a city which gleamed with an unspeakable brightness and
had its walls of translucent gold, and its battlements of stones
the like of which none has ever seen. . . . ' ^
Messianic and Utopia Forms.
The foregoing examples are all taken from the definite geftre
of legend of which the Revelation of Peter is the model
and type, and to which the Irish vision legends, starting in
the eighth century with the Vision of Fursa, and represented
* James, 60. ^ Texts and Studies. ^ James, 58.
250 CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC
by such texts as Adamnan's Vision, undoubtedly belong. In
all of these the happy and beauteous land is Heaven in the
ordinary accepted sense of the term. Early Christian literature
likewise supplies similar descriptions without employing the
Vision machinery. Thus the famous closing passage of the
second Sibylline Oracle, after describing the last judgment and
the banishment of the wicked to Gehenna, proceeds : ' But
the others who practised righteousness and good works, piety
and upright judgment, angels shall bear them through the
burning stream, leading them to the light and to a life without
care, whither tends the undying way of the great God ; three
streams are there of wine and milk and honey. Earth shall
be equally measured for all, no walls nor any enclosures shall
split it up; abundance of fruit shall it bring forth freely of
itself j life shall be in common and freed from riches. For no
poor shall be there, nor rich, nor any ruler, nor slaves, nor
shall any be greater or less, nor kings, nor lords, but all shall
be alike. None shall say — 'tis now night or morning ; none — so
it happened yesterday ; none — so many more days have we to
trouble ourselves. No spring nor summer, neither winter nor
autumn. Neither marriage nor death, no buying nor selling.
Neither sunset nor sunrise, for He shall make one long day.' ^
Here, although the description is formally one of Heaven,
of an abode that is of blessed spirits, the essence of the
conception applies rather to a glorified human society, and
the v/hole is thus connected with the pre-dispersion Messianic
Jewish belief rather than with orthodox Christian eschatology.
This is but natural considering the nature of the works known
as the Sibylline Oracles, a pre-Christian amalgam of Jewish
and classic conceptions worked over, added to, and continued
by Christian writers. The same historic origin and conditions
^ Oracula Sibyllina rec. J. H. Friedlieb, p. 47.
CHRISTIAN APOCALYPTIC 251
of development may be postulated to account for the earthly
paradise where dwell the Blessed Ones, the descendants of
the Rechabites, as it is described in the fifth and sixth century
Apocalypse of Zosimas the hermit : the seer is carried across
the river dividing the heavenly land from ours by two trees
which bend down and waft him over, these trees are ' fair and
most comely, full of sweet-smelling fruit,' the land was a place
full of much fragrance, ' there were no mountains on one side
or the other, but a plain full of flowers all begarlanded, and all
the land was fair.' ^
The Ten Tribes.
The legend of the Lost Ten Tribes may be cited in the
same connection. Their dwelling-place is thus described in the
Ethiopic ' Conflict of Matthew,' translated by the Rev. C. S.
Malan : its inhabitants ' want neither gold nor silver, neither
eat flesh nor drink wine, but feed on honey and drink of the
dew, . . . the water we drink is not from springs, but from the
leaves of trees growing in the gardens. . . . Neither do we
ever wear garments made by the hand of men ; nor is a word
of lying heard in our land. No man marries two wives, neither
docs the son die before the father. The young do not speak
before the old ; our women dwell with us, they neither corrupt
us nor we them ; and when the wind blows, we smell through
it the smell of gardens. In our land there is neither summer
nor winter, neither cold nor hoar frost ; but on the contrary, a
breath of life.' 2
The Conflict of the Apostles is a late work, and did the
story of the wonderland, where dwell the lost tribes of Israel,
rest upon its authority alone, I should not have cited it. But
it is vouched for by the third century Latin poet Commodian,
* James, Cq. - James, 70. Texts and Studies.
252 CHRISTIAN AND IRISH TEXTS
whose lines, quoted below, testify to a common source for the
episode as presented by him, and as found in the yEthiopic.
It should be noted however that one of the touches which
recurs most constantly in Elysium descriptions is absent from
his version ; he has nothing to say of the equable and temper-
ate sunniness of the clime.^
Christian and Irish Texts compared.
The series of instances might easily be extended, were I
writing an account of the Elysium conception in Christian
literature. As it is, I have restricted myself to what is just
enough to show the wide range, the essential variety, and the
far-reaching popularity, in early Christian literature, of a
group of conceptions concerning an extra-terrestrial land free
from the spiritual, social, and physical evils of this life.
Whether it be the orthodox Christian heaven that is pictured,
or humanity under Millennial condition, or a fairyland beyond
the confines of humanity, or a golden age of virtuous innocence
in the remotest portion of earth or at the dawn of history, a
common stock of images and descriptions is drawn upon, in
^ Mendacium ibi non est, sed neque odium ullum ;
Idcirco nee moritur filius suos ante parentes ;
Nee mortuos plangunt nee lugunt more de nostro,
950 Expectant quoniam resurrectionemque futuram.
Non animam ullam vescuntur additis escis,
Sed olera tantum, quod sit sine sanguine fuso,
Justitia pleni inlibato corpore vivunt,
In illis nee genesis exercet impia vires.
955 Non febres accedunt in illis, non frigora sseva,
Obtemperant quoniam universa candide legis ;
Qure nos et ipsi sequemur pure viventes ;
Riors tantum aderat et labor, nam cetera surda.
(Carmen Apologet. vv. 947 et seq.)
CHRISTIAN AND IRISH TEXTS 253
which we recognise elements familiar to us from the Voyage of
Bran and allied Irish romances.
There is an apparent widening and humanising of these con-
ceptions in the Christian texts that have been cited. The
earliest are purely eschatological, and in more or less accord
with orthodox dogma ; in one of the latest, the Phoenix, the
Christian element is minimised, or rather has the appearance
of being alien and intrusive. It is precisely this legend which
in its latest form presents the closest analogies to the Irish
Otherworld description ; it is this legend of which there are
obvious traces in a romance (the Voyage of Maelduin) belonging
to the Otherworld cycle as it may be called ; it is the later form
of the legendwhich is nearest to the Irish tales, geographically and
chronologically. The surmise again forces itself upon us — are
not the Irish conceptions a further step in the de-Christianising
of a Heaven ideal found, in its perfection, in Christian writings
of the first century ? Such an hypothesis assumes that the Irish
used the presentments of this ideal in two ways, developing
them in strict accord with their Christian tone and tendency
in such works as the Visions of Adamnan and Fursa on the
one side, and extracting from them ornamental accessories for
poetic recreations of native mythology, such as the Voyage of
Bran or the Wooing of Etain on the other. In the first case
they retained a main characteristic of the Christian vision of
the Otherworld, the description of Hell ; in the second they
eliminated this element altogether, as did the author of the
Phoinix.
If the Christian examples I have cited were our earliest
obtainable starting-point, it would be necessary to test this
hypothesis, and the first step would be to tabulate the differ-
ences between the Irish and the Christian accounts, instead of
confining ourselves as in the foregoing pages to accentuating the
254 JEWISH APOCALYPTIC
points of contact. But the Christian conception of an Other-
world, as depicted in the Hterature of the first four centuries,
is simply the last link of a long chain the earlier links of
which are accessible to us. The consideration of Otherworld
conceptions in literature chronologically older than Christianity
must be our next step.
One source of the Christian account has already been
mentioned, the Jewish Messianic belief. The vision form
in which this belief is embodied is represented to a slight
extent in the canonical collection by the Book of Daniel,
but far more fully in a number of Apocryphal writings, dating
between 150 B.C. and the time of Christ, of which the
Book of Enoch may be taken as a representative.^ The con-
nection between this literature and the Christian Apocalypses
is manifest, and the description in Enoch of Heaven, or rather
of the Messianic kingdom to be estabUshed by the Son of
Man after the final judgment, offers some interesting points of
comparison. The Paradise account in Genesis furnishes
many elements, and is probably responsible for insistence
upon the wondrous tree, the fruit of which is to nourish the
elect, and its sweet odour shall enter into their bones (c. xxiv.) ;
other traits may be due to reminiscences of Babylonian
mythology, such as the assignment of Sheol (the land of the
dead awaiting judgment and resurrection) to the West (c. xvii.).
But the chief note is ethical, the reaffirmation and elaboration
of the prophetic vision of the triumph of righteousness, albeit
material traits are by no means lacking ; after the establishment
of the Messianic kingdom 'the plant of righteousness and
uprightness will appear, labour will prove a blessing : righteous-
ness and uprightness will be established in joy for ever. And
then will all the righteous escape and will live till they beget a
^ I quote from Mr. Charles's edition, London 1895.
JEWISH APOCALYPTIC 255
thousand children, and all the days of their youth and their
old age will they complete in peace. And in those days will
the whole earth be tilled in righteousness, and will all be
planted with trees and be full of blessing. And all desirable
trees will be planted on it . . . the vine will yield wine in
abundance, and of all the seed which is sown will each
measure bear ten thousand, and each measure of olive wall
yield ten presses (c. x.). Again (c. xxv.) it is stated of the elect,
' they shall live a long life upon earth, even as thy (Enoch's)
forefathers lived, neither in their days shall sorrow, distress,
trouble, or punishment afflict them.'
It is curious in view of the Christian Irish division of the
Otherworld into four parts, traced by Professor Zimmer to
influence of the older pagan belief upon Christian doctrine,
that in Enoch the souls of the dead are collected and sorted
out according to their merits into four regions of Sheol. The
first division comprises the righteous that suffered persecution
and martyrdom ; the second the righteous dying a natural
death ; the third for the sinners that escape punishment in
this life ; the fourth for the sinners punished in this life
(ch. xxii.).
Christian and Classic Eschatology.
A careful comparison of Jewish and Christian Apocalyptic
writings makes it evident, however, that much in the latter
cannot be derived from the former.^ This is notably the case
^ See as to this E. de Faye, Les apocalypses juives, Paris, 1S92 ; Dietrich,
Nekyia, Leipzig;, 1893, and Charles's Book of Enoch, passim. A valuable
article just issued in the Jewish Quarterly Review for June 1895 may also
be consulted with advantage, Dr. K. Kohlcr, The Prc-Talmudic Haggada :
The Ajiocalypse of Abrah.im and its Kindred. The Rev. Dr. Caster, in
his article, Hebrew Visions of Hell and Paradise (^Journal of the Royal
256 CLASSIC ESCHATOLOGY
with the account of Hell, which occupies a far larger space in
all the Christian visions (saving always the Revelation of
John, the most closely akin of any to the pre-Christian Jewish
Apocalypses) than that of Heaven. The general economy and
the special details of this account in the great mass of the visions,
argue a common source. It has lately been claimed with
convincing learning that this source must be sought for, not in
Jewish, but in Greek conceptions, that the Christian Hell
derives immediately from the Hellenic one. This dependence
of Christian upon classic eschatology has recently been brought
to the notice of the general public by Professor Percy Gardner,
Contemporary Review, March 1895), but it is unfamiliar
enough to deserve a brief exposition of the facts upon
which it is based. For a full presentment of the theory the
reader is referred to Dietrich's Nekyia. The original Greek,
possibly pan-Aryan, Hell would seem to have been a place of
filth and gloom. It becomes really prominent in Greek
literature from the fifth or sixth centuries B.C. onwards, a pro-
minence due to the marked extension of Orphic-Pythagorean
doctrines at the period. The salient element of these doctrines
is an eschatological one ; they strenuously insist upon the
terrors of the Otherworld, enhancing thereby the force of their
claims to provide, through the medium of the mysteries, a mode
of escape, both from the tortures of the penal Hell, and the
burdensome ' circle of life,' or cycle of re-birth. Hell is con-
ceived of as purificatory, fire as lustral, the punishment is
Asiatic Society, July 1893) ^^"^ claimed a Jewish origin for the Apocalypse
of Peter on the strength of Jewish visions known to us in texts many
centuries later in date. I can only agree with Dietrich, 223, that such a
contention is entirely wrong. The history of Jewish belief concerning the
future life Las been minutely traced by F. Schwally, Jiidische Vorstellungen
vom Leben nach dem Tode, Leipzig 1893, and it has been amply proved
that the eschatology of Judaism is late and borrowed.
CLASSIC ESCHATOLOGY 257
fitted to the crime. A consistent and orderly economy of
Hell is thus elaborated, the main features of which reappear
almost unchanged in the Christian Apocalypses. But their spirit
is changed all for the worse; divorced from the underlying
conception of purification through suffering, the penalties of
Hell became simple tortures, the lustral aspect of fire yields to
that in which it is the unrivalled agent for inflicting pain.
The evolution thus briefly sketched can be traced with
almost absolute certitude owing to the richness of the material
and the elaborate complexity of the Greek system of Other-
world punishment in its later stages. In the nature of things
the same certainty cannot be expected in the case of Heaven
delineations, which arc everywhere both scantier and simpler.
But the a priori likelihood that Christian eschatology derives
much of the material equipment of its Heaven from the same
source upon which it draws so largely for its Hell, is sufficiently
strengthened by an examination of the evidence, as we shall
now see, to deserve the name of certainty.
Before proceeding further a possible objection of principle
may be considered. Comparison between Irish and Christian
beliefs is, it may be urged, fruitful from the known historic
influence of the Christian faith upon Ireland. But are not
Greek and Irish mythic literatures too remote to allow of
profitable comparison ? Hardly ; the hypothesis of pre-
historic community of mythic beliefs is by no means to be
rejected a priori^ whilst if it prove untenable, there still remain
the possibilities of historic contact of the Hellenic world upon
Celtdom during the four centuries preceding Christianity, or of
the influence of classic culture upon Ireland consequent upon
the introduction of Christianity. This premised, I will proceed
to cite from Greek literature examples of the Otherworld, con-
ceived of as an abode of bliss and freedom from earthly ills.
R
CHAPTER XI
CLASSIC ACCOUNTS OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD
Homer — Rohde's view of the Homeric Hades and of the development of the
Elysium conception in Greece ; objections thereto — Hesiod — Early
mythical allusions — Pindar — The Periclean age — Varying accounts of
Elysium as Outerworld and Underworld — Romantic and didactic use of
the conception, Hyperborean, later localisation of the marvel land in
India — Lucian — Greek the main source of Christian eschatological
descriptions — Parallel between Greek and Irish Elysium romance — Roman
development of Greek belief — Sertorius and St. Brandan — Horace —
Claudian — The Vergilian Utopia and Elysium — Summary of classic
development of the conception — Irish account related to earlier stage —
The free love element in the Irish accounts — The chastity ideal in Classic
literature — Parallel of the formal mythological elements in Greek and
Irish literature.
Early Epic Account of Otherworld.
The consideration of any manifestation of the Hellenic spirit
must start from the Homeric poems. It is in these, at once
the earliest and the most characteristic products of the Greek
genius, that we find perhaps the most vivid presentment of the
Happy Otherworld, one upon which following generations of
singers and thinkers do but ring the changes. In the Fourth
Book of the Odyssey, Menelaus relates how, having captured
Proteus by stratagem, he seeks from the Ancient of the seas
foreknowledge of the fate of his compeers, and of his own.
Proteus prophesies to him : ' But thou, Menelaus, son of
Zeus, art not ordained to die and meet thy fate in Argos, the
258
HOMERIC ACCOUNT 259
pasture land of horses, but the deathless gods will convey
thee to the Elysian plain and the world's end, where is Rha-
damanthus of the Fair Hair, where life is easiest for men. No
snow is there, nor yet great storm, nor any rain ; but alway
ocean sendeth forth the breeze of the shrill West to blow cool
upon men : yea, for thou hast Helen to wife, and thereby
they deem thee to be son of Zeus.' ^ Noting that Menelaus
does not die, but is conveyed away from this earth, though
not to the company of the gods, and that this privilege is
granted him not from any personal merit, but solely because
of his relation to Helen, herself of the race of the deathless,
we pass on to other passages which portray a land fairer and
happier than the earth known to men. True, these do not
expressly refer to a country to which mortal men may be
transported out of this life, but rather to remote fairy lands,
access to which, though difficult, is not impossible ; return
from which, though rare, is not miraculous. Of such a kind
is the isle of Syria, which the swineherd thus describes to
Odysseus : ' There are the turning places of the sun. It is not
very thickly peopled, but the land is good, rich in herds and
flocks, with plenty of corn and wine. Dearth never enters the
land, and no hateful sickness falls on wretched mortals.'-
Such a land, again, was doubtless, in its origin, that of
Phoeacia, but here the picture is so far humanised as to have
well-nigh lost its mythic atmosphere. So, too, in the fifth
book, with Calypso's isle ; full of delight and beauty though it
be, yet these lack the mythic touch and tone, found only in
the goddess's words when Hermes bids her, from Zeus, to part
with her mortal lover : ' Hard are ye gods and jealous ex-
ceeding who ever grudge goddesses openly to mate with men,
if any make a mortal her dear bedfellow. Even so when
' Odyssey, Butcher and Lang, 66. - Odyssey, 253.
26o HOMERIC ACCOUNT
rosy-fingered Dawn took to her Orion for a lover, ye gods
that Kve at ease were jealous thereof. . . . So, too, when
fair-tressed Demeter yielded to her love, and lay with lasion
in the thrice ploughed fallow field, Zeus . . . slew him. So
again ye gods now grudge that a mortal man should dwell
with me, . . . him have I loved and cherished, and I said I
would make him to know not death and age for ever.' ^
The immortal dames of Hellas are thus fain of mortal
embraces as are those of Erin, and the lure they hold forth is
the same — freedom from death or decay. The main difference
in the situation, as conceived by the poets of either race, is
the greater strength among the Greeks, as compared with the
Irish, of patriarchal and marital authority. Zeus will not
allow a subordinate goddess the freedom of choice Manannan
concedes to his wife.
The Odyssey thus knows of a land whither mortals may, as
an exception, be transported by special favour of the gods ; of
lands excelling earth in fertility and delight, to which mortals
may penetrate in the ordinary course of nature; of lands
dwelt in by amorous goddesses who attract and retain
favoured mortals. It also knows of a region set apart for the
immortal ones, even as the sid are set apart for the Tuatha
De Danann ; in Greek, as in Irish belief, this region is defi-
nately associated with mountains. The Greeks localised
their seat of the gods on Olympus, and Homer uses in por-
traying it the colours with which he had pictured the realm
ruled over by Rhadamanthus : ' it standeth fast for ever.
Not by winds is it shaken, nor ever wet with rain, nor doth
the snow come nigh thereto, but most clear air is spread about
it cloudless, and the white light floats over it. Therein the
blessed gods are glad for all their days.' ^
1 Odyssey, 79-So. - Odyssey, 93.
HOMERIC ACCOUNT 261
In the post-Homeric epic poems, the transference of heroes
to an Elysian land, of which Proteus' prophecy to Menelaus is
the only definite instance in the works ascribed to Homer
himself, is of frequent occurrence. The Kypria told how
Artemis carried off Iphigenia ; the ^thiopis, how Zeus, at the
request of his mother Eos, grants deathlessness to Memnon,
and how Thetis carried off the body of Achilles from the
funereal pile to Leuke, the ' white isle ; ' the Telegoriia, how
Telegonus, son of Ulysses and Circe, slain unwittingly by his
father, is carried off by his mother to the island ^aea, where
(married to Penelope !) he leads an undying life.^ This idea
appears still further developed in Hesiod. In the Works and
Days the poet sketches the past history of mankind ; fourth
of the races known to him is the godlike kin of the heroes,
whom the older world called half-gods. * War, alas, and horrid
discord ruined them, some fell around seven-gated Thebes,
some in the Trojan's land, whither, shipping o'er the mighty
welter of the waves, they went for fair-tressed Helen's sake.
Death wrapped them in night. Zeus the father decreed for
others a stead at the world's end, far off from the immortals
(where reigneth Kronos).^ There they dwell evermore, with
minds untroubled, by the waves of ocean deep, in the isles of
the blessed. Heroes most fortunate, to whom thrice yearly
earth yields honey-sweet fruits.'
One poem, the Odyssey, thus supplies parallels to all the
salient traits of the Irish conception of the Happy Otherw^orld,
whilst in works of almost equal age we find the first traces of
a ' heaven,' a happy land that is reserved for mortals of ex-
ceptional deserts, after death has removed them from this
^ Rohde, 78, et seq.
- This verse is regarded as an interpolation, though an early one, i.e.
pre-Pindaric.
262 ROHDE'S VIEWS
earth. Before citing and discussing later instances from
Greek mythic Hterature, some idea must be formed as to the
date of the passages in the Odyssey, and their relation both to
the statements of post-Homeric writers, and to the beliefs
concerning life after death set forth in the oldest monument
of Greek imagination, the Iliad. The lateness of the Odyssey,
as compared with the Iliad, and the fact that it has been in-
terpolated down to the period of the post-Homeric epics, are
taken as established.
Rohde's View of Epic Belief.
The most exhaustive and stimulating study of Hellenic
beliefs concerning the soul and life after death is that of Erwin
Rohde in Psyche ; Seelenaili und Vnsterblichkeitsglaube der
Griecheti (Freiburg, 1890-94). An excellent summary of his
argument, in so far as the Homeric behef is concerned, is
furnished by Miss Harrison in her notice of the first section of
this work (Classical Review, iv. 376-77). I need make no
apology for transcribing the essential parts of this summary :
' The gist of Rohde's contention is this : Homer (taking
Homer for epic tradition generally) believes that something
persists after death ; that something is no more life, though it
is called Psyche ; rather it is the very opposite of life, it is the
shadowy double of a man deprived of all the characteristics
of life. This something, as soon as the body is burnt, goes
away to a place, apart, remote, from which there is no possi-
bility of return. Further, this something, once gone to Hades,
has no power for good or evil on the living. In a word, the
Homeric world is haunted by no ghosts . . . hence after the
funeral there is no cultus of the dead, no offerings at the
tomb : all is done. In this respect Homeric faith is markedly
different from that of most primitive peoples. Usually the dead
ROHDE'S VIEWS 263
man's ghost haunts his tomb, is locally powerful, must be
tended and appeased. Moreover, in post-Homeric times we
find an elaborate cultus of the dead, hero-worship, and the
whole apparatus of a faith that recognises the power of the
departed soul. . . . Here, Rohde contends, and we believe
rightly, that this faith and this ritual existed before Homer,
and that in his poems there are traces of its survival ; that
during the period of epic influence it slept for a time ... he
believes in fact in the epic break of tradition. ... To the
existence of the Homeric break Hesiod gives incidental and
most interesting testimony. His five ages are characterised
not more by their moral standard than by their status after
death. One after the other they follow in regular decadence
with but one break in their continuity, and that for the epic
heroes. The golden race after death are happy daimons,
guardians of men ; the remotest tradition then known to
Hesiod shows a belief in ihe activity and local'^ presence of the
souls after death. The men of the silver race, disobedient to
Zeus, buried in the earth, but still were powerful and wor-
shipped after death. The iron race went down to Hades
nameless. The fourth race, the heroes of Thebes and Troy,
interrupt the downward sequence — a part of them "death
covered," and they reappeared no more ; a few, the exception
always, Zeus kept alive, they never suffered death, but they
were translated to remote regions, islands of the blessed.
This is perfectly consistent with Homeric faith — if you die,
you end ; if you are favoured by the gods, you are trans-
lated.'
Believing strongly as he docs in this fundamental distinction
between the Homeric Otherworld — land of shades, bereft
' This seems to be a gloss of Miss Harrison's. I cannot sec any
warrant in liesiod's words, or in Kolidc's comment upon them.
264 ROHDE'S VIEWS
of joy and effort, of influence upon the fortunes of mortals —
and the ghost world testified to by later Greek religion and
postulated by him in pre-Homeric times from such survivals
as the description of the funeral rites of Patroklos, Rohde is
led to regard the picture of the Elysian land which we find
in the Odyssey as a reaction against the weary hopelessness of
the after-life vision vouchsafed for instance to Ulysses in his
descent into Hades. Humanity was not to be cheated of its
hopes; the poetic imagination of the race, working freely,
created and embellished in the Elysian fields a last refuge for
the yearnings of the human heart. The ideal of a land, pre-
eminent in all the heart can desire, access to which is not won
through death {that could only lead to the ' darkness and
shadow,' 'desolate of joy,' 'where dwell the senseless dead,
phantoms of men outworn '^ but by the favour of the gods,
in which the ^vyj] does not quit the body, freed as this is
from the decay inherent in mortal things, thus pre-supposes
the mournful epic faith concerning life and death and the
unconquerable recoil of the human mind from a belief so
purely pessimistic. The elements of the new ideal are latent
in the Iliad ; the gods can throw the veil of invisibility over
their favourites ; " Zeus hesitates whether he shall not catch up
Sarpedon alive and send him living to the land of wide Lykia
(Iliad, xvi.). It is but a step to the conception that the gods
by transferring mortals to a land akin to their own divine
dwelling, by making them free of the divine food from which
they derive their immortal vigour, should be able to confer
upon them the most cherished of the divine attributes, death-
lessness. But this step had not been taken when the Iliad
finally assumed the form under which it has come down to
us, nor when the poet of the Eleventh Book of the Odyssey
1 Odyssey, xi. - Cf. Rohde's examples, 65.
ROHDE'S VIEWS 265
sent his hero to Hades. Had he known of the fair region
promised by Proteus to Menelaus, he would not have doomed
Achilles, flower of Grecian manhood, to the joyless land where,
as the hero himself says, ' better to live upon the soil as the
hireling of another, than bear sway among all the dead who
are no more.'
The Elysium fashioned by Greek fancy as a protest against
the cheerless creed of the epics was originally no ' heaven ' in
our sense of the word. Neither worth nor valour give the
mortal a claim upon its enjoyments. And although the
favoured few to whom access to the happy land is granted
acquire the divine attribute of immortal youth, they do not,
as do the gods, exercise a steady and acknowledged influence
upon human affairs. No ethical demand for the reward of
human excellence originated the conception of this fairyland,
nor was it started by worship paid to departed mortals for
purposes of veneration or conciliation. In a word, the belief
is not religious. It may possibly have grown up spontaneously
in the post-epic development of Greek literature, as it may
also be due to introduction into Greece of parallel Baby-
lonian myths.
Rohde's Views Discussed.
So for the German scholar. His account of the develop-
ment of Greek after-life belief brings into sharp prominence
two phenomena — the apparent inconsistency of the Homeric
Hades with the well-developed funereal cults which lasted in
full vigour for many hundred years after Homer's time, and
the belief, inconsistent also according to him with the Homeric
presentment of Hades, of a happy land to which heroes may
be translated escaping death. This belief, found in the later
portions of the Odyssey, in the post-Homeric epics, and in
266 GREEK AND IRISH LEGEND
Hesiod, he holds to be decidedly later than the real Homeric
creed as exhibited in the Iliad and in Ulysses' descent into
Hades, and to be probably due to foreign influence.
I would ask, is this not to build too much upon certain
peculiarities of the Achilles saga, the subject of the Iliad and
of a portion of the Odyssey, which are conditioned, perhaps,
far more by the nature of the story and by unchangeable
literary conventions than by the religious belief of the poet or
of his time ? The story of Achilles is tragic, as is that of all
the great heroes, and the poet can allow nothing to interfere
with the tragic impression he wishes to leave upon the minds
of his hearers. Let us take a strictly parallel case from the
literature we have been considering, the pre-Christian heroic
epics of Ireland. Here too we have visions of the happy
Elysium ; here too it is reserved not for the great and famous
heroes, for Cuchulinn or Conall Cearnach, for Diarmaid or
Oscar, but for personages, otherwise unknown, as Bran, or
unconnected, save indirectly, with any great cycle, as Connla,
or for a subordinate character of the cycle, as Oisin. The case
of Cuchuhnn is specially to the point ; he is a god's son, he
has enjoyed, in Faery, a goddess's love. How easy 'twould
have been to picture Lug, Lord of the Fairy Cavalcade from the
Land of Promise, descending to the aid of his mighty son and
carrying him off to taste in the company of Fann the delights
of the land which knows not age nor decay. No, there must
be no weakening of the tragic tone. The hero must go to
his doom, and he must suffer his doom utterly, and so the
last glimpse we have of him is as he fastens himself by his
breast-girdle to the pillar-stone in the plain ' that he might
not die seated nor lying down, but that he might die standing
up.' 1 'i he sole consolation afforded is the vengeance wrought
1 R. C, iii. 182.
GREEK AND IRISH LEGEND 267
upon the hero's slayers by his comrade Conall Cearhach and
his faithful steed, the Grey of Macha.^
And if the story-teller has pictured the fate of the Irish, as
the poet of the Iliad has pictured that of the Greek, hero,
unrelieved by any vision of after bliss, so too the Irish
' translated ones ' have this marked characteristic in common
with Menelaus and his compeers. Their translation is con-
nected with no worship paid to them, nor is any influence
upon mortal affairs ascribed to them.
The parallel between Greek and Irish heroic legend is, in
this particular, extraordinarily close, so close that explanation
in the one case must be in some degree applicable to the
other before we can admit its validity. Yet it will hardly be
contended that the development postulated by Rohde ob-
tained in Ireland as well as in Greece, that the Irish shanachie
imagined his land of women as a protest against the fate
assigned to Cuchulinn and his peers in the heroic epics. At
the utmost, might it be urged, that even as the introduction of
Oriental myths into the Hellasof the eleventh to eighth centuries
B.C., supplied the Greek poets with a canvas upon which to
embroider their fantasies, so classic and Christian legends
brought into the Ireland of the fourth to seventh centuries a.d.,
furnished a similar motif to Irish literature and determined
a similar development. But the inadequacy of such an
hypothesis to explain the essential kinship of the Greek
and Irish accounts must strike every unprejudiced reader.
^ The Christian scribe to whom we owe the version preserved in the
Book of Leinster adds : ' But the soul of Cuchulinn appeared at Emain
Macha to the fifty queens who had loved him, and they saw him floating
in bis spirit chari(jt, and they heard him chant a mystic song of the coming
of Christ and the day of doom.' This saiigrenu addition to the old heroic
tale is entirely of a piece with some of the later Greek developments of
the epic stories.
268 THE HELGE STORY
In any case it would not apply to the following parallel from
Norse heroic myth.
By the time the legends of the Scandinavian heroic sagas
had been fashioned into the form under which they have
come down to us, Scandinavian mythic belief had been
systematised, and its eschatology in especial had been
elaborated with dogmatic precision. Whether this develop-
ment was conditioned, as is now generally held, by contact
and in competition with Christianity, need not here be
discussed. Certain it is that the men who sang of Sigurd
and Helge believed in Walhalla, a place of reward and
delight for the brave warrior. Yet the poet of the Helge lay,
many details of which presuppose the Walhalla creed in its
most advanced form, is compelled, at the risk of glaring
inconsistency, to disregard it in order to obtain that supreme
effect of tragic pathos which sets his work among the master-
pieces of human utterance. The dead hero, roused by the
cruel tears of Sigrun, comes to her, not from the hall of
Woden where he sits feasting with his peers, but from the
barrow, the house of the ghosts, where he lies drenched with
gory dew, his hands cold and dank ; and she, though herself
one of Woden's maidens, follows him into the barrow,
lying, she alive, in the arms of the dead.^
^ Rydberg (Teutonic Mythology, London, 1889, sect. 95) has made an
ingenious attempt to explain away their inconsistencies. According to him
that which remained in the barrow was the haug bui or alter ego of Helge
whose true wraith was in Walhalla. Disturbed by Sigrun's lament this
went back to the barrow, united itself with the hang Imi and then
reappeared before Sigrun. It is possible that the complicated beliefs
concerning the vital principle and the forms under which life manifests
itself in this and in the Otherworld, which Rydberg extracts from the
Eddaic pc^ms may have been held by a few thinkers, but I cannot believe
that they were widely held or that it is necessary to resort to them in
order to account for the Helge and Sigrun story.
HESIODIC ACCOUNT 269
I would urge that beliefs concerning the Hereafter, of an
essentially different, nay, of a strongly inconsistent nature, may
thus subsist side by side, not only at the same time, but even
in the mind of the same poet or poet group ; and that poetic
treatment of these and like ideas is determined as much by
artistic convention as by racial or individual belief The facts
upon which Rohde bases his hypothesis of a profound change
in Greek faith concerning the future state at the time the Iliad
was composed, and of a later change in this faith, due origin-
ally to Oriental influence, do not, to my mind, justify such far-
reaching conclusions. Greek belief, at the time of and long
anterior to the Iliad, in a western island Elysium is not, I
would urge, negatived by the undoubted fact that the
Odyssey is on the whole the later of the two epics. Nor is it
necessary to resort to Oriental influence to account for the
vision of the Elysian fields. The probability of such in-
fluence must be judged by other considerations.
Hesiodic Accounts.
I am strengthened in this conviction that the Elysium ideal
among the Greeks is not necessarily, as compared with the
Homeric presentment of Hades, late and of foreign importa-
tion by the fact that its main elements are found in Hesiod in
a different setting. Not only does he mention the Hesperides
who beyond Ocean's stream guard the golden apples and the
gold fruit-yielding trees (Theogony, v. 215 ei sa/.), a story to
which I shall presently return, but he has in his account of
the first, the golden age of mankind, an instructive parallel —
'like gods lived they with ever untroubled mind, free from
work and care, ay, even from age's burden ; unchanging in
their bodies' form they enjoyed a perpetual round of feasting,
delivered from every ill ; rich were their plains in flocks, be-
270 HESIODIC ACCOUNT
loved were they of the blessed gods, and when they died it was
as if they sank to sleep ' (Works and Days, verses i lo, e^ seg.).
Now after death these happy beings become Sat/^ioves-, minis-
ters of Zeus' will, guardians of mortals, warders off of evil,
protectors of righteousness, dispensators of divine punishment.
Rohde has himself connected the Hesiodic account with the
earlier forms of ancestor worship, and has insisted that it is,
essentially, older than that of Homer, and in the direct line of
Grecian belief, whereas the epic account represents, as we
have seen, a break in the tradition. But, if this is so, why
separate Hesiod's description of the life led by the golden
age men from the remainder of his picture of these beings,
why not recognise the main outlines of the Elysium ideal as
pre-Homeric? Nay more, if, as I believe, the belief in a
gold age at the dawn of the world, a paradise that is, is younger
than the belief in a god's garden outside the world and has
been derived from it, the Hesiodic account, belonging as it
does to this secondary stage, testifies beyond all doubt to the
pre-Homeric existence of the earlier stage. ^
Whether or no the vision of Elysium be as old as any other
portion of pre-Hesiodic Greek literature, must be left uncer-
tain for the present. As far as post-Hesiodic literature is
concerned, we can trace with accuracy the development of
the conception, and can account satisfactorily for its various
manifestations. We meet with a number of expressions,
images, episodic allusions, scattered throughout Greek litera-
ture, applicable only by reference to the Happy Otherworld ;
we also find the elements of the vision used by poets and
^ Rohde admits (99^) that the golden age legend may be older than
Hesiod ; but also surmises that his description may be based upon similar
accounts A Elysium to that found in Proteus' prophecy to Menelaus.
This strikes one as a very forced hypothesis.
EARLY MYTHICAL ACCOUNTS 271
thinkers in the elaboration of an ethical scheme of the Here-
after, to which they furnish the constituents of a heaven, as
counterpart to the hell, which, under the influence of the
Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines, was being evolved during the
same period. Again, these same elements figure as materials
in the description of an Utopia, sometimes conceived in a vein
of pure fantasy, sometimes with a clearly marked sociological
and ethical intent.
Early Mythical Accounts.
Dietrich, in his already cited work, has brought together a
number of passages referable to Elysium in its earlier stage of
development, some few of which may be mentioned here.^ From
of old this happy realm is connected with the sun-god. Thus
Sophocles speaks of Phccbus' garden over across ocean's flood
at the world's bounds, where flows the stream of night. There
the sun goes to sleep, there he pastures and stables his steeds ;
in its shady laurel grove the son of Zeus rejoins his wife and
dear babes, when he sinks into the depths of dark and holy
night ; there is his palace, full of sweet savours in a golden
chamber of which he stores his beams. This resting-place of
the sun-god is also the garden of the Hesperides, the singing
daughters of Night, guardians of the golden apples, together
with the dread inspiring dragon whom Keto bore to Phorkys.
From the Hesperides to the Ethiopians is the sun-god's daily
round, as Mimncrmus sings. And there, Euripides, in a famous
chorus of the Hippolytus, places the palace of the gods.
' There stands Atlas, warder of Heaven's bounds, and there
the daughters of Hesperus who watch o'er the golden apples.
There is the palace where was wedded the king of the
immortals, there nectar foams, and earth yields to the gods
the undying food of this blessed life.'
' Dietrich, op. cit. 18 et seq.
272 EARLY MYTHICAL ACCOUNTS
In these echoes of antique legend, younger as they are in
the date of their composition or transcription than the late
epic presentment of the heroes' resting place, we are trans-
ported into an older and purely mythic world, even as the Irish
Diiinshcnchas legends, younger though .they be than the stories
of Bran or Connla, yet have their roots in an older and purer
stage of mythic fancy. In neither case does the earlier recorded
text suffice to account for the later one.
But Greek fancy was not busied alone with the sun-god's
wonderland in the west. The eastern mansion whence he
issues is the subject of like fables. Hence the account of the
sun's feasting among the noble Ethiopians, hence the mythic
importance of Lycia (the light land), of Phoinike (the ruddy
land), of Erytheia (the ruddy sea, out of which the sun rises ;
the ruddy island where Geryon pastures his flocks).
To a later but still an early stage would seem to belong the
designations and allusions which connect this region with the
land of departed souls. Of such a kind is the Leucadian,
the white rock past which, in the Odyssey, Hermes leads the
souls of the wooers to the * mead of Asphodel where dwell the
phantoms of men outworn.' 'To leap from the Leucadian
rock,' long remained in Greece a proverbial equivalent of ' to
die.'i
^ Amon;^ the tales collected in Argyllshire hy the Rev. D. Maclnnes, and
published in the second volume of Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition, is
one entitled Young Manus. The hero is suckled by a mysterious and mighty
woman after he has killed all his mortal nurses. As her reward she asks
him to accompany her : ' they set off, and as they were walking towards
the shore, they come to high rocky precipices. Here she took hold of
the boy and threw him over, and he was seen no more.' But search being
made for him by the gardener (who appears in the tale endowed with
superhun^an powers), the boy is found 'playing shinty on the shore with
a gold club and a silver ball which his nurse had given him.' I commented
DIDACTIC DEVELOPMENT 273
Fragments of the earlier mythic vision lingered on in the
consciousness of the Greek race throughout the entire range of
its manifestation, unconnected with any ethical intent. But
even in Hesiod we trace the beginnings of an attempt to
utilise the conception didactically. From his time onwards
the development of this tendency is plainly visible. Thus in
Pindar it is not only the old-time heroes, hallowed by their
participation in the great struggles recorded by the epics, to
whom the access to Elysium is granted, but ' all who have had
the courage to remain steadfast thrice in each life, and to
keep their souls altogether from envy, pursue the road of
Zeus to the castle of Kronos, where, o'er the isles of the blest,
ocean breezes blow and flowers gleam with gold — with
bracelets of these they entwine their hands, and wreath
crowns for their head.' From out this passage speaks a spirit
which we can recognise as religious — the insistence upon
worth in this life as a condition of bliss in the next. In its
reference too to the Pythagorean doctrine of Metempsychosis,
we detect the originating cause of this transformation of older
mythic material. Another description of the blest shows how
Pindar, animated as he is by the new faith, which, in his day,
was stirring the Grecian world, yet retains a distinctly materi-
alistic vision of the Otherworld : 'for them shines the might
of the sun below, when here it is night ; meadows of roses
red skirt their city shaded with incense trees and orchards
laden with golden fruit. And some delight them in wrestling,
upon this as follows : ' There is a naive bit of euhcmerisin here. The
rapture of the hero, by the heroine, to the Underworld, the mysterious land
of Youth and Promise, where shinty is played with gold clubs and silver
balls, is translated into the nurse's throwing her charge over the clifT.'
At the time I overlooked the Greek analogy which so strikingly confirms
my interpretation of the incident.
S
274 PINDARIC ACCOUNT
and some with draught-playing, and some with lyres, and
around them, fair flowering, all plenty blooms. And a
delightsome smell is spread about the place where they
mingle all goodly spices in the beacon flame upon the
altars of the gods,' a description which, save for the last touch,
might serve for that of Manannan's isle or Midir's sid. Even
too as Pindar, responsive to the sentiment of his day, presents
us, imperfect though it be, with a vision of heaven, the
material equipment of which he derives from older mythology,
even so from the same source he draws the picture of an
Utopia. In the tenth Pythian, he speaks of the Hyper-
boreans in language untouched by ethical speculation : ' There,
braiding their locks with gilded bay leaves, they feast right
cheerily. And neither disease nor deadly eld have aught to
do with that sacred race, but without evils or contests they
live.'
The ethical evolution, apparent in Pindar, is definitely
marked in the saying of Sophocles : ' In Zeus' garden only the
blessed ones may plough,' with its undoubted implication of
' blessed ' as ' righteous blessed,' and its identification of the
domain of the gods with the abiding place of the rewarded
dead. Thus, after many centuries, were reunited in the
Greek mind, two conceptions, originally one, that of a land
dwelt in by immortal beings, of more than human power and
beauty, and that of a land free from all the defects and
sorrows of this world to which mortals may penetrate. In the
beginning no ethical significance was attached to the divine
beings, access to their realm was determined by no ethical
considerations. Ultimately the ' god ' became the expression
of man's striving after the ideal, and his dwelling-place the due
and inevitable recompense of man's righteousness in this life.
The belief of the Post-Periclean age may best be gathered
PLATONIC ACCOUNT 275
from the Pseudo-Platonic Axiochus. To reconcile Axiochus
to the idea of death, Socrates, after the familiar depreciation of
this life as full of toils and troubles and disappointments, thus
pictures to him the abodes of the just, ' Fruits grow there of
every kind, clear springs flow through flower-bedecked meads ;
there philosophers hold converse, theatres are there for the
poets, dance and music, delicious banquets unprepared by
hands, in fine, perpetual peace, unmixed joy. There is no excess
of either heat or cold, but a cooling breeze blows, warmed by
the soft rays of the sun. The initiated take the first place in
this region and celebrate the holy mysteries.' This vision,
although younger than Plato, is vouched for in Periclean
times by the Platonic references which presuppose a similar
ideal, betray how much of its archaic nature still clung to it,
and reveal the main factor in its development. Thus the half-
contemptuous allusion in the Republic to the Orphic doctrine
of the future life : ' still grander are the gifts of heaven which
MusKus and his son offer the just; they take them down
into the world below, where they have the saints feasting on
couches with crowns on their heads, and passing their whole
time in drinking ; their idea seems to be that an immortality
of drunkenness is the highest meed of virtue.'^ Again, in the
Phoedo, speaking of the future life, he says, ' I conceive that
the founders of the mysteries had a real meaning, and were
not mere triflers when they intimated in a figure long ago
that he who passed unsanctilied and uninitiated into the
world below, will live in a slough, but that he who arrives
there after initiation and purification, will dwell with the
gods.' The final episode of the Republic, the vision of Er,
the son of Arminius, is a vision of Heaven and Hell con-
ceived of as two districts of an underworld.
^ Jowett's Republic, p. 414.
276 UNDERWORLD ELYSIUM
The witness of the comic poet is the same as that of the
philosopher. In the Frogs, Aristophanes pictures the Elysian
plain as a region of the vast underworld to which Bacchus
and his slave penetrate, a region not reserved for the
famous heroes of the past, but open to all the just, to those
purified through initiation.
Underworld Elysiums.
One point in these later Greek presentments of the Other-
world demands special notice — the underworld locale. We
cannot fail to recall how in Ireland the blissful land lies not
only across the western main, but within the hollow hill or
beneath the waters of the lake. And just as Professor
Zimmer has surmised a transference, consequent upon the
introduction of Christianity, and the relegation of the pagan
deities to the sid or fairy hills, of scenery, accessories and
attributes from the island wonderland to the realm of the sid
folk — so, has it been asserted, the transformation of the
Homeric Hades, under Orphic influence, led to the Elysian
fields being transported from the isles of Rhadamanthus and
the Hesperides, or the gardens of the sun-god, to a special
district of Hades conceived of, not merely as the resting-place
of men after death, but as the place where they are rewarded
or punished for their deeds in this life. I have already, in
so far as the Irish evidence is concerned, expressed my
dissent, not so much from the conclusions reached by Pro-
fessor Zimmer as from his mode of stating those conclusions,
and I would urge that current explanations of the Greek
evidence err equally in representing, as a forced and artificial,
that which is in truth a natural and inevitable, development.
For the conception of an underworld realm of the dead is, if
I mistake not, latent with all its possibiUties in the act of
UNDERWORLD ELYSIUM 277
burial. The idea of a god's garden, of a land accessible to
mortal favourites of the gods, of a realm open necessarily to
the mighty in valour and power and justice, this idea may,
and I believe did, develop itself apart from the customs of
burial, and all that those customs implied. But as soon as
belief in a life after death for all men acquired body and
precision, it was bound to be conditioned by the fact that the
dead man was put into the earth. There was, I believe, no
conscious transference from the island to the Hades Elysium.
More definite belief in the latter brought about greater de-
finiteness in assigning a locality to it. Indeed, it may be
doubted if, among the Greeks, the Happy Otherworld under-
ground be not really as old as the oversea ideal. Rohde has
collected (104 ct seq.) instances of what he calls 'Bergen-
triickung,' in which the favoured mortal, instead of being
transported to the island Elysium, is carried underground.
Thus in the ninth Nemean, Pindar tells how * for Amphiarus
Zeus clave with his almighty thunderbolt the deep bosom of
the earth, and buried him alive with his steeds.' ^ Thus
Trophonius, the wise master builder, fleeing from king
Thyrieus, was swallowed up by the earth at Lebadea, and
lives undying in its depths. Similar stories are related of
Kaineus, of Althaimenes, and of others, especially of Rhesus,
whom the Euripidean tragedy represents as living in the
hollow hills of Thracia, rich in silver, a man become like unto
a god.- In the majority of these cases, especially in those of
Amphiarus and Trophonius the legend is bound up, and
seems to have originated from a local worship, and Rohde
regards them as examples of the substitution of legendary
heroes for older Chthonic divinities." Is it not possible that the
converse may be true, that these local cults represent an
' Paley's Pindar, 24. - Maas, Orpheus, 1S95, ^T- ^ ^'- "i^-
278 HYPERBOREANS
early stage of ancestor worship, which, in a later and more
developed form, was one of the constituent elements of the
organised mythology? I would, however, only urge that in
Greece, as in Ireland, the under- is as old as the outer- world
conception of a land dwelt in by wise, powerful, and immortal
beings. And, if this is so, the greater richness of Irish
mythic legend in accounts of the underworld is surely signi-
ficant. For it is evident that we cannot in comparing the two
bodies of mythic belief take any note of the late and highly
organised stage of Greek mythology which represents Pluto as
lord of the underground Elysium^ it is true, but chiefly of the
underground Tartarus.
Romantic Development.
It has already been indicated that later Greek literature
utilised the machinery of the Isle of the Blessed in the cele-
bration of an Utopia as well as of a heaven. An example has
been cited from Pindar, and the practice is one familiar to the
poet of the Odyssey, although the term ' land of Cockayne '
rather than ' Utopia ' be the one applicable to his description
of a happy, fertile, peaceful land. It was in especial the folk
of the Hyperboreans that furnished the substance of later
accounts. They live in a remote fairy land, ' neither by ships
nor by a journey on foot shall you find out the mysterious
road to the Hyperboreans,' says Pindar in the tenth Pythian,
It is, perhaps, significant that the poet makes Perseus pene-
trate thither even as the older legend sent him to the garden
of the Hesperides, Perseus, who, in the circumstances of his
birth, his upbringing, his combat with the monster, and de-
liverance of Andromeda presents so many remarkable analogies
to CuchuKnn, who also penetrated to the realm of Irish sid
dwellers. I do not propose to notice these stories in detail.
LUCIAN 279
They are fully dealt with in Rohde's admirable Griechischer
Roman and by Crusius in his article Hyperborecr in Roscher's
Lexikon. I would only emphasise the following points. The
Hyperboreans are essentially connected with Apollo {i.e. the
sun-god) ; their gift of song is especially insisted upon (' the '
Muse is ever present to crown their joys, and everywhere j
maiden dances with the loud tones of lutes and the clear
ringing sounds of pipes move to and fro in the city,' says
Pindar): the later the account the more didactic its char-
acter, the more apparent the intention to use these far off
folk as a foil and an example to men of the day ; after the
conquests of Alexander had thrown open the east to Grecian
observation and Grecian fancy, had brought the Greek in
contact with the Indian mind, the existence of certain Indian
phenomena, such as the Buddhist and analogous communities,
the possible knowledge of parallel Indian legends {cf. infra, ch.
xii.), led to the localisation in India of the region of the blame-
less and careless beings whom previous Greek fantasy had
placed rather in the West or North. The Alexander legend
stereotyped this form of the conception, and gave it wide
currency among the peoples of the East as well as of the West.
Lucian's True Story.
My last quotation is from a work which presupposes and
sums up the literary development I have briefly sketched in
the foregoing pages — a work in which the Homeric hero-
world jostles the Utopia of Hccatxus of Abdera, in which
equal ridicule is poured upon the Orphic visions of the future
life and the extravagances of the Alexander romances, viz. :
the True History of Lucian. The hero of the fantastic journey
comes to the Isle of the Blessed, and this is how Lucian
describes it : * As we approached, a sweet and odoriferous
28o LUC I AN
air came round us . . . from the rose, the narcissus, the
hyacinth, the hly, the violet, the myrtle, the laurel, and the
vine. Refreshed with these delightful odours ... we came
close up to the island; here we beheld several safe and
spacious harbours, with clear transparent rivers rolling placidly
into the sea; meadows, woods, and birds of all kinds chant-
ing melodiously on the shore ; and, on the trees the soft and
sweet air fanning the branches on every side, which sent
forth a soft, harmonious sound like the playing of a flute.'
The sea-farers land. ' As we were walking through a meadow
full of flowers, we met the guardians of the isle, who, imme-
diately chaining us with manacles of roses, for these are their
only fetters, conducted us to their king' (Rhadamanthus).
They are allowed to remain, to range over the city, and to par-
take of the feast of the blessed. ' The whole city was of gold,
and the walls of emerald; the seven gates were all made out
of one trunk of the cinnamon-tree ; the pavement, within the
walls, of ivory ; the temples of the gods were of beryl, and
the great altars all of one large amethyst. Round the city
flowed a river of the most precious ointment, a hundred cubits
in breadth, and deep enough to swim in. . . . In that place
nobody ever grows old ; at whatever age they enter here, at
that they always remain. ... It is always spring with them,
and no wind blows but Zephyrus. The whole region abounds
in sweet flowers and shrubs of every kind ; their vines bear
twelve times in the year, yielding fruit every month. . . .
There are three hundred and sixty-five fountains of water
round the city, as many of honey, and five hundred rather
smaller of sweet-scented oil, besides seven rivers of milk and
eight of wine. Their symposia are held in a place without
the city, v.hich they call the Elysian Field. This is a most
beautiful meadow, skirted by a large and thick wood,
LUCIAN 281
affording an agreeable shade to the guests, who repose on
couches of flowers ; the winds attend upon and bring them
everything necessary, except wine, which is otherwise pro-
vided. . . .' What most contributes to their happiness is,
that near the symposium are two fountains, the one of milk,
the other of pleasure; from the first they drink at the
beginning of the feast; there is nothing afterwards but joy
and festivity.' The inhabitants of this land are the great
men famous in the epic traditions of Greece as well as
the leading poets and philosophers of the race, and Lucian
shows considerable pertinacity in cross-examining the blessed
dead on divers points concerning which history had been
silent.
I have quoted sufficiently, I trust, to substantiate the claim
that Greek literature is the main source of the otherworld
descriptions found in late Jewish and in Christian apoca-
lyptic writings ; and that the classes of composition in which
among the Greeks these descriptions are found were the
models for similiar compositions among those populations
of the Eastern Mediterranean, to whom we owe Judaism and
Christianity. As regards the latter. Christian eschatology,
as so much else of Christian doctrine, is emphatically a
product of the fertilising influence of Hellenic philosophy
and religious philosophy upon eastern thought and fancy.
The ultimate origin of the Greek beliefs and imaginings is a
point I do not propose to deal with at present. It must
necessarily be considered in connection with the second
portion of this investigation, the doctrine of re-birth as ex-
emplified in Celtic myth and romance. For the present I
am content to show that in its presentment of the Other-
world, Greek Christian is dependent upon Greek Pagan
literature.
282 GREEK AND IRISH ROMANCE
Parallel of Greek and Irish Mythic Romance.
Before leaving Greece I must restate fully and emphatically
what I have several times hinted at — the parallelism between
Greek and Irish legend in the development of this concep-
tion. In the garden of the singing daughters of the night,
in Calypso's isle, in Rhadamanthus' realm, access to which
is opened by Helen to Menelaus, we have the land of amor-
ous goddesses met with in Bran and Connla ; the account of
Olympus, or the sun-god's western halls, may be likened to
that of Mider's sid, of the Brtigh in which Angus takes his
delight. At an early stage these imaginings yielded the
Greek author of the Odyssey the vision of a fairy Utopia,
Phreacia or Scheria, even as the Irish author of Maelduin
found in the older accounts of the ' great-young-divine ' land
the substance of the far-off western isles to which his seafarers
wandered. At a still later stage, in both literatures, didactic
and ethical pre-occupations make themselves felt — the
wonderland is woven into a sketch of man's story on earth
by Hesiod, or supplies the machinery for a vision of the
future, as in the Champion's Ecstasy, is worked up by the
Greek in his picture of the Hyperborean Utopia, or by the
Irishman in his allegorising portrayal of Cormac's adventures
at Manannan's court. Lastly, in both cases we find a syn-
thesis of this vast and lengthened growth of mythic romance
presented in a vein of half-humorous antiquarianism. The
last term of the parallel is especially remarkable. It is safe
to say that the author of Teigue, son of Cian, knew nothing
of Lucian's True Story ; but, occupying in point of time, of
literary and social development, much the same position
towards tlie Irish as did Lucian towards the Greek accounts
of the Happy Otherworld, his work is necessarily marked by
*
'-■'■"*"'-''-''^'^-finii'
LATIN CONCEPTIONS 283
similar characteristics, is forcedly animated by a kindred
spirit.
Roman Development of Greek Conceptions.
Greek thought and artistry conquered the West as the
East. But whereas the contact of Greece and Judea, of
Greece and Egypt, was fertile in the domain of religious
and philosophic speculation, but comparatively barren as
regards literature, the contact of Greece and Rome called
into being a literature which, though ranking in form and
nobility of expression among the greatest the world has
known, is singularly devoid of originality. As far as the
doctrine and presentment of Hades are concerned, Latin
writers simply repeat the statements of their Greek models.
It is, moreover, the latest stage of the conception that we
find reflected in their literature. Be the reason what it may,
the Italian Aryans seem to have lacked that prehistoric body
of mythic romance which underlies, and out of which has been
developed, the literature of other Aryan races. Thus we find
among the Romans few traces, and those purely literary, of the
primitive Elysium, a half-belief in which persists throughout
the range of Greek literature long after it had been replaced in
religious and philosophical systems by more highly organised
conceptions. It is essentially Hades as a place of rewards
and punishments that appealed to the practical ethical instinct
of the Roman, and in the greatest of Roman poets we find
strong traces of the Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines, of those
Greek doctrines, that is, which conceived the otherworld under
its ethical aspect, and sought to use it for practical purposes.
Before I briefly note a few passages in Latin writers relating
to the Otherworld, I would cite one incident in the life-history
of the Elysium conception among the ancients to which
284 SERTORIUS
fifteen hundred years later a singularly close parallel is
afforded in the later stages of the analogous Irish concep-
tion. Belief in the isles which the blessed Brendan had
reached sent many a bold mariner to try his fortunes on the
western main, and may indeed be regarded as among the
contributory causes, by no means the least important, of the
discovery of the New World. Equally strong, as Sallust
relates, was Sertorius' faith in the isles of the blessed lying
in that western sea, upon which he gazed from the coasts
of Spain. To quote the words of Plutarch, ' Sertorius, hearing
these wonders, had a strong desire to fix himself in these
islands where he might live in perfect tranquillity.' ^
^ Plutarch's description is worth quoting. ' They are called the
Fortunate Islands. Rain seldom falls there, and when it does it falls
moderately ; but they generally have soft breezes which scatter such rich
dews, that the soil is not only good for sowing and planting, but
spontaneously produces the most excellent fruits. The air is always
pleasant and salubrious, so that it is generally believed that these are the
Elysian fields and the seats of the blessed which Homer has described.'
Plutarch's description is said to be imitated from Sallust. See Dietrich,
Nekyia, 32.
The story of Sertorius of the milk-white fawn has touched the fancy of
one of Erin's latest singers. I need not apologise for quoting Mr. Lionel
Johnson's graceful verses : —
' Nay ! this thy secret will must be.
Over the visionary sea,
Thy sails are set for perfect rest :
Surely thy pure and holy fawn
Hath whispered of an ancient lawn,
Far hidden down the solemn West.
' A gracious pleasaunce of calm things ;
There rose-leaves fall by rippling springs :
And captains of the older time.
Touched with mild light, or gently sleep,
Or in the orchard shadows keep
Old friendships of the golden prime ..."
HORACE 285
In this, a parallel of the closest possible description, the
two phenomena are absolutely unrelated to each other, and
their likeness is solely due to the common relationship in
which they stand to two groups of imaginative beliefs, which
are markedly alike. It is, however, as absurd to contend that
likeness of one particular fact in the Greek and Irish groups
necessarily involves direct relation as it would be to assert
that St. Brendan's isle was sought in the thirteenth and
fourteenth centuries a.d., because Sertorius had sought for
the Elysian isles in the first century B.C.
This instance may seem to contradict what I said above as
to the absence of the earlier stages of the Happy Otherworld
conception among the Romans. But only apparently. For
Sertorius, as for the sailors of the fifteenth century, both
Greek and Irish accounts had lost their mythic character.
The Roman may have thought the Greeks had romanced,
his imagination and mystical temperament may have led him
on, but he certainly thought there was a solid basis of fact
in what poets and philosophers had fabled. So too Horace,
in the i6th Epode, evokes before the eyes of his countrymen,
plunged in the horrors of civil war, the antique Vision, and
urges them to seek a happy fate in the Western main: 'AH
encircling Ocean awaits us ; the fields let us seek, the happy
fields, the rich isles, where the unploughed earth yields Ceres
yearly, where the vine blossoms untouched by the knife . . .
honey flows from the hollow oak . . . unbid the goats
approach the milking pail^ the placid ewe brings her richly
laden udder.' The Augustan poet expressly refers to the
Hesiodic account.
Again, the last poet of pagan Rome, in his poem on the
Consulate of Stilicho, draws a picture the elements of which
go back to the dawn of Greek utterance.
286 VIRGIL
' This said, he entered gardens strewed with dew,
A stream of flame around the valley flew ;
Large solar rays among the plants were spread,
On which the coursers of the Sun are fed.
His brow the god of day with garlands graced,
And flowers o'er safiron reins and horses placed.'
(Claudian, Hawkins' Translation, ii. 105.)
Virgil, however, is the most authoritative exponent of the
belief of cultured Rome concerning the Otherworld, and
Virgil, as recent investigation has conclusively shown, is pene-
trated by the spirit of Orphic-Pythagorean literature, and in
yEneas' descent into Hades does but reproduce, with the
added might of his genius, an Orphic Kaxa/Jacrts €ts "AiSov.
And not only does the great Roman poet present the noblest
form of pagan theological speculation in this domain, he has
likewise shown himself responsive to the Utopian, humani-
tarian element in the Orphic doctrine, to that element which,
mingling with and fertilised by the moral ardour of the Hebrew
prophets, had such a formative influence upon the Messianic
belief as systematised in Palestine and Alexandria during the
two centuries preceding the birth of Christ. In the fourth
Eclogue he sings, the ' infant boy under whom the golden age
shall arise over all the world,' with truly Messianic fervour.
' Wickedness shall vanish, earth shall be released from dread.
To this wondrous boy earth shall pour forth everywhere, with-
out culture, flower and fruit ; the goats of their own will shall
bring home their milk-laden udders, nor shall the flocks fear
great lions any more ; the serpent shall be slain, and the
venom-plant perish. The fields shall yellow with ears of grain,
the vine shall blush upon the bramble, much honey shall
ooze out of the oak. . . . All lands shall produce all things.
The soil shall not suifer from the harrow, nor the vine from
VIRGIL 287
the pruning-hook.' It is unnecessary to cite further so well-
known a passage, but we may note the poet's boast that if he
sing the deeds of this wondrous child, neither Thracian
Orpheus, nor Linus, shall surpass him in song, indicative as it
is of the sources whence he drew his vision of the returning
reign of Saturn.
We may now turn to his description of the realm of joy, the
mansions reserved for the blest, as they appear to ^i^neas after
the hero has beheld the horrors of Tartarus. The air is
lighter and more buoyant, the plains are bathed in purple light.
Of the blessed some ' exert their limbs on the grassy sward,
contend in sports and wrestle on the golden sands, some tread
the dance with measured step, and sing their songs of joy.
Orpheus, too, the Thracian priest, suits to their strains his
lyre's seven notes. . . . Others feast upon the grass and chant
in chorus to Apollo a joyful psean, in a fragrant grove of
laurel.' Who are these blessed ones ? ' Those who received
wounds in defence of their fatherland ; priests of pure and
holy life; those blessed bards who sang verses worthy of Apollo's
ear ; those who refined the life of man by wise invention, those
who made their memory sweet and loved by deeds of kind-
ness and of mercy.' The beatific vision is closed by a philo-
sophy of the universe, ^neas sees the troop of disembodied
spirits prepared, after a draught of Lethe, to return to earth.
He wonders at this mad desire for life, and Anchises instructs
him. He tells him of the mysterious force which pervades and
animates the Cosmos, of the spiritual principle defiled by its
association with the flesh, cleansed and purified in Hades,
freed from all taint in Elysium, returning after a completed
cycle of a thousand years to animate a fresh body, and take
part once more in the unending chain of life.
This sketch of the development of the Elysium conception
288 IRELAND AND CLASSIC LITERATURE
in classic pagan antiquity, concise though it be, is yet sufficient,
I think, to demonstrate that the elements of this conception,
common to Irish non-Christian and to classic Christian litera-
ture, are not necessarily derived by the former from the latter.
These elements re-appear in pre-Christian classic writings, and
approve themselves part of the oldest stock of Greek mythic
legend. What is the bearing of these facts upon our investi-
gation? Let us recollect that Ireland, unlike Gaul or Ger-
many or Britain, lies outside Roman influence until the third-
fourth centuries, and that when this influence does manifest
itself it is predominantly Christian. Let us assume for one
moment that the Irish of the fourth and fifth and sixth cen-
turies had no tales and traditions of the past, no vision of a
western marvel land, no imaginings of a god's dweUing-place.
What could they have learned from their Christian instruction?
Such a vision of heaven, undoubtedly, as we find ascribed to
Adamnan, or to Fursa, and in especial such a vision of hell.
But is there anything in Christian apocalyptic or hagiology
that could suggest Manannan's realm with its amorous dames,
the sid of Mider or Angus, homes of amorous deities, that
could call up the idea of a land, to which, not those v/ho have
done righteously in this life must repair after death, but which
a favoured mortal may occasionally reach without dying. Is it
not evident now that reference to Christian literature is wholly
insufficient to account for the Irish legends, the one fact which
gave a certain plausibility to the hypothesis, the presence of
elements common to both, being explicable otherwise?
If this is so, and I cannot think any other conclusion
possible to an unprejudiced inquirer, an important conclusion
follows. If Christian literature cannot explain Irish legend,
neither can late classic literature. That which is highly
organised, ethically, socially and philosophically, cannot
HELLENIC AND IRISH MYTH 289
originate that which is archaic in tone of manners, and de-
ficient in any religious or philosophic intent. Let me again
assume a mythological tabula rasa in third-sixth century Ire-
land. In what shape would Hellenic myth come to the Irish ?
In the shape it came to the Jews and Romans of the second
century B.C., or rather in the shape it assumed after contact
with Judaea and Rome. And as regards the conception of
the Otherworld, this, as we have seen, permeated by philo-
sophic and ethical ideals, had become in its way as definitely
' religious ' as the Christian belief. If any one writer of anti-
quity could have suggested to the Irish their vision of Elysium,
it would be Virgil, Virgil the most widely read, the most deeply
revered of all pagan poets. Will it be maintained for one
moment, and by the most arrant paradox-monger, that the
Virgilian account could have originated in whole or part the
rich series of mythic fancies set forth in chapters 11. and vii.
of this work ? Is it not evident that the relationship of Irish and
Greek myth antedates not only the Christian transformation of
the latter, but that earlier transformation due to the systematised
spread of Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines, the result of which,
after a centuries-long evolution, was to substitute the Virgilian
for the Homeric Hades ?
Detailed comparison of the Irish with the earlier stages of
Greek legend amply bears out a conclusion derived from a
general survey of the latter. If we style these earlier stages
Homeric, we find that Ireland and Homeric Greece agree in
the following particulars : overlapping in the accounts of the
island Elysium, and of the mountain home of the gods ; reser-
vation of Elysium to a {q.v^ favoured mortals, relationship to or
caprice of a divinity being the cause of the privilege; special
association of the island Elysium with amorous goddesses ; in-
sistence upon the fact that the favoured mortal does not die^
T
290 HELLENIC AND IRISH MYTH
and upon deathlessness as the chief privilege of Elysium ;
absence of any ethical or philosophical ideal ; presentment of
the life of the translated ones as a round of simple sensuous
delights. In nearly all these particulars the post-Homeric
conception differs profoundly from that just sketched : the
idea of Elysium is inseparably connected with death, and has
for its inevitable counterpart a hell; it is placed underground
in proximity to Tartarus, and is clearly distinguished from
Olympus ; it forms a necessary part of an ethical scheme of
Universe.
It is true that the older conception persisted throughout the
entire range of classic literature, true also that, as regards
many details of the material equipment of the Happy Other-
world, there is little difference between Homeric and post-
Homeric Elysium. Texts which are marked by the loftiest
ethical fervour, yet retain a singularly material view of the joys
reserved for the blessed. But after making full allowance for
these considerations, it still strikes one as extremely unlikely,
to put it at the lowest, that the Irish literature of the Other-
world should have its source in the analogous Greek literature
as it developed from the fourth century B.C. onwards, especially
in the modified forms it assumed after the contact of the
Hellenic mind with East and West in the third-first centuries
B.C., and the consequent creation of a common philosophico-
religious syncretism, differing profoundly from the older
nature-mythology.
One special characteristic of the Irish Otherworld may be
cited as exemplifying, in the strongest manner, the primitive
nature of the conception. Quatrain 41 of Bran's Voyage gives
a picture of the island Elysium from which one gathers that it
must ha^'e resembled Hampstead Heath on an Autumn Bank
Holiday evening. The trait is not confined to Bran's Voyage.
CLASSIC CHASTITY IDEAL 291
Unlimited love-making is one of the main constituents in all
the early Irish accounts of Otherworld happiness. At a later
stage of national development the stress laid upon this feature
puzzled and shocked. The author of Teigue, son of Cian, is
at pains to put a Platonic gloss upon Connla's passion.
Probably the first and most distinctive mark of Heaven that
would occur to a modern, is that there shall be neither marry-
ing nor giving in marriage there. But it would be a mistake
to regard this feeling as wholly due to Christianity. Alien to
Judaism (families of 1000 are among the supreme privileges
reserved for the blessed in the Book of Enoch), the absence
from Heaven of all that concerns the physical manifestation
of love is, like so much else in Christianity, of Greek origin.
The passage already quoted from Virgil [si/pra, p. 286), that
priests of chaste life go to Elysium, may perhaps be re-
garded as inconclusive, ritual celibacy being as much a feature
of certain antique cults as of certain varieties of Christianity.
But Plautus, imitating the fourth-century Philemon, has the
following passage {Trin. 549 ei seq.) :
' Sicut fortunatorum memorant insulas,
Quo cuncti qui aetatem egerint caste suam
Conveniant.'
Dietrich, who quotes this passage {I.e. 169), adds ' of course
those who did not order their lives caste, went to the other
place.' This does not to my mind follow. Nevertheless, the
passage undoubtedly testifies to an ascetic element in the
Otherworld ideal. Consideration of the scheme of Greek
Otherworld punishments leads to the same conclusion ; sins
of the flesh play a large part in the scheme. Abstinence
from such sins, we may reasonably hold, was considered
meritorious, and the traits of self-control and freedom from
sensual longing singled out for approbation in this life, and
292 MANANNAN AND HELIOS
regarded as a claim upon happiness hereafter, would naturally
persist and be intensified in Elysium.
Finally, what may be called the formal mythological element
of the Irish account of the Otherworld, testifies to its kinship
with Homeric, to its ignorance of post-Homeric belief. In the
latter there is an elaborate underworld hierarchy, only wait-
ing the triumph of Christianity to reappear in the devil
hierarchy of Satan and his subordinates. There is no trace of
such a conception in the Irish accounts. Save in an episode
of Maelduin's Voyage, there is not even a distant allusion to
that judicial function which, from the fourth century B.C.
onwards, would certainly have been cited by a Greek as the
distinguishing characteristic of the lords of the Otherworld.
And when we look^a little closer we find that early Ireland and
early Greece both associate their western wonderland with a
chariot-driving and steed-possessing god. True, this is the
sun-god among the Greeks, whereas Manannan is generally
held, and was certainly held at a comparatively early date in
Ireland itself, to be a god of the sea. It is, however, note-
worthy that in one story {Baile an Scail), part of which has a
very archaic aspect, Lug, the Irish sun-god, is lord of the Other-
world ; noteworthy, that in numerous texts, some, it is true, of
later date, as far as their present form is concerned, Lug is
described as Lord of the Fairy Cavalcade of the Land of
Promise, and that throughout Irish romance relating to the
Tuatha De Danann, there is close alliance between Manannan
and Lug. It may be urged too that Manannan's attributes
are vague, that, in spite of the general consensus of opinion
which regards him as an Irish Poseidon, there is nothing in the
stories told of him or of his Welsh parallel, Manawyddan, that
necessarily marks him as a sea divinity. Or again, it may be
argued that, for reasons we cannot now determine. Lug, whose
MAN ANNAN AND HELIOS 293
sun-god character is undoubted, has been replaced in his
lordship over the western Wonderland by Manannan. But
indeed is it necessary to assume that different branches of the
Aryan-speaking people assigned the lordship of their Elysium
to the same deity ? If Manannan was indeed regarded by the
ancient Irish as a sea-god, and if he was from the outset lord
of the island Elysium, it would simply show that historical
circumstances, the nature of which escapes us, effected
amongst the Irish a change in the myth. For it cannot, I
think, be doubted that the sun-god and the myth of the sun-
god are the true source of all the fancied marvels of a happy
land, out of which he rises in the morning, and to which he
returns at nightfall. Be this as it may, in his attributes and
characteristics Manannan is far more closely akin to the
Hellenic deity, whom the earliest stratum of mythology pictures
as pasturing his coursers in the isle of the Hesperides, than to
the Hellenic deity whom a late and highly organised mythology
represented as ruling over the entire Hades, Tartarus as well
as Elysium.
Witliout, I trust, in any way straining the evidence or over-
looking points that might lead to a different result, a fairly
strong case has been made out for the following conclusions.
Christian influence upon the Irish account of the Happy Other-
world is slight and unessential ; features common to the Irish
and Christian account are explicable by the fact that both
stand in a certain relationship to pre-Christian Greek belief;
the Christian account is the natural development of the later
and more highly organised stage of that belief after its modi-
fication by contact with the East, in this case the relationship
being one of derivation ; the Irish account is akin to the earlier,
more purely mythic stages of Greek belief before the rise of
particular ethical and philosophical doctrines.
294 IRISH AND GREEK MYTHS
Should we regard this kinship as due to dependence of the
Irish upon the Hellenic account, or to possession by Irishmen
and Greeks of a common body of mythical beliefs and fancies ?
Some light is thrown upon this question by the examination
of the mythic literature of three other races speaking a language
related both to Irish and Greek, and possessing mythologies
which at all events seem to be like that of Greece. One of
those races, the northernmost branch of the Teutons, was the
last of any Aryan-speaking people to record its mythology ;
one, the Aryan invaders, at some perfectly undetermined date
(it may be 4000 or 2000 or only 1000 years B.C.) of North
Western India, supplies us on the contrary with what the vast
majority of scholars hold to be the earliest noted (I do not say
the most primitive) record of Aryan mythic belief in the Rig
and Atharva Vedas. Let us then see what is the testimony
of the earliest and latest utterances of Aryan myth concerning
the beliefs and fancies we have been investigating.^
^ It will of course be understood that the two foregoing chapters contain
a very small portion of the illustrative material which could be adduced
from Pagan classic and Christian classic literature between 800 B.C. and
500 A.D.
CHAPTER XII
SCANDINAVIAN, IRANIAN, AND INDIAN ACCOUNTS OF THE
HAPPY OTHERWORLD
Scandinavian mythical literatxire, date and relation to Classic and Christian
literatm-e — Prominence of eschatological element in the official mythology
— Visions of the Happy Otherworld in later romantic literature : Eric the
far-travelled ; Helge Thoreson ; Thorkill and Guthorm ; Hadding —
Rydberg's theory of Odainsakr — Iranian myth of Yima's grove — Iranian
accounts of Paradise and Heaven — Darmesteter on date and composition
of the Avesta — Vedic accounts — Post-Vedic Indian mediaeval accounts —
Oldenberg on the Indian heaven — Chronological view of the Happy
Otherworld conception in the literature of the Aryan race ; problems
raised thereby ; necessity of studying the reincarnation conception before
concluding.
Scandinavian eschatology is known to us from texts pre-
served in isiss. of the thirteenth century; some of these in
their present form (I allude notably to the expository treatises
known as Gylfi's Beguiling and Bragi's Tales in the so-called
prose Edda) may possibly be little older than their date of
transcription, whilst the poems upon which they are based,
and which have partly come down to us, are probably products,
in their present form, of the eighth to eleventh centuries.
This eschatology is highly organised. The ideas of a heaven,
admission to which is a privilege granted by the deity who
figures as head of the Scandinavian pantheon, of a hell to
which offenders are doomed by the gods, of a final conflict
between the powers of good and ill succeeded by a new and
296
296 NORSE ESCHATOLOGY
glorified universe, are set forth with precision. It is but
natural, therefore, that the critical spirit of our age should
have detected in these and in similar features of the Eddaic
mythology the influence of classic antiquity, both Pagan and
Christian, as embodied in the literature of Greece and Rome,
and in the later provincial Christian Latin literature. This
tendency to deny the archaic and popular character of the
Eddaic mythology reached its culminating point in Professor
Bugge's Studies on the Origin and Development of the
Northern God and Hero Tales. ^ The theory of the dependent
and imitative nature of Norse mythic-heroic literature was
there urged with immense learning, but with a complete lack
of the true critical spirit, and with an extravagant exaggeration
which has caused it to fall into almost complete disrepute.
None the less, however, was service done in pointing out that
Norse mythology as preserved by the Eddas represents a
comparatively late and complex stage of mythic development.
This much may be stated with a fair show of certainty : Under
the stress of contact, and in competition with the highly
organised creeds (Pagan and Christian) of classic antiquity, the
Northern Germans developed and systematised their own faiths.
In so far as the eschatology is concerned the parallels are
rather with Pagan classic than with Christian classic concep-
tions. The Eddaic hell corresponds far more closely to the
earlier form of the Greek Tartftrus, recoverable from literature
of the fifth to second centuries B.C., than to the later forms it
assumed after contact with Judaism and modification through
Christianity; the Norse Asgard and Walhalla are, in spite
of confident statements to the contrary, certainly not more
kin in the material economy and animating spirit of their
^ No English translation of this work is in existence, but there is a
German one by Poestion, 1881-89.
ERIK SAGA 297
conception to the Christian heaven than to the Olympus and
Elysium of pre-Christian Greece.
By the side of the elaborate eschatol(j)gical myths which
constitute the chief beauty and the chief problem of Norse
mythology we find a number of stories concerning a marvel
land of delights and riches, which present many points of
contact with the Irish legends previously cited and discussed.
Rydberg, in his Teutonic Mythology (London, 1889), has
summarised and studied these stories, and it will be convenient
in the first place to give a brief abstract of their contents.
The Erik Saga.^
Erik, son of a petty Norse king, one Christmas eve made a
vow to seek out Odainsakr. He betook himself first to
Constantinople, and there, having become Christian, apprised
the emperor of his vow. Believing that Odainsakr must be
one with Paradise, the emperor declared it lay, encircled by a
fire wall, beyond the farthest bounds of India. Thither Erik
journeyed, and after a while came to a dark country of forest
where the stars are seen all day long. On the other side
flowed a river, crossed by a bridge guarded by a dragon.
Into the mouth of the monster rushed the hero and one of his
companions, and when they came to themselves unharmed
they saw before them a great plain lit up by the sun, and
covered with flowers. There flowed rivers of honey, the
air was still and fragrant. It was never dark there, and objects
cast no shadow. After a while they came to a tower hung
in the air without foundations or pillars. A ladder gave
access to it, and within they found a room carpeted with
velvet, and on the table delicious food in silver dishes and
wine in golden goblets. The adventurers ate and drank and
' Rydhcjig, I.e. 20S-210.
298 HELGETHORESON
laid them down to rest. Whilst Erik slept there came to him
a beautiful lad, one of the guardian angels of Paradise, who
was also Erik's guardian angel. It was Odainsakr or jord
lifanda Manna (the earth of living men) to which he was
come, and not Paradise ; that was reserved for spirits alone,
and was so glorious that in comparison with it Odainsakr
would seem like a desert.
Thereafter Erik returned to Constantinople and later to
Norway, where he was known as the far-travelled.
The Story of Helge Thoreson.^
Helge, travelling to the far north on the coast of Finmark,
got lost in a great forest. There he met twelve red-clad
maidens on horseback, and their horses' trappings shone like
gold. Chief of the maidens was Ingeborg, daughter of
Gudmund of the Glittering Plains. Helge, invited, stayed
three days with Ingeborg, and on parting received two chests
full of gold and silver. The next Yule night after his return to
his own land there came a great storm, during which two men
carried off Helge no one knew whither. A year passed, and
at Yule Tide Helge came back, and with him two strangers
with gifts from Gudmund to King Olaf Tryggwason, two gold
plated horns. Olaf filled the horns with drink and gave them
to his bishop to bless, whereat Gudmund's messengers cast
the horns away, there was great noise and confusion, the fire
was extinguished, and Helge and his companions disappeared.
Again a year passed, and Helge was brought back to the king,
blind. He had spent most happy days in Gudmund's realm,
but Olaf's prayers had forced his host and love to let him
^ Rydberg, 21 1. Saxo Grammaticus, Danish History transl. by O.
Elton, with Introduction by F. York Powell (London, 1893), Ixviii.
CxORM, THORKILL, AND GUDMUND 299
depart. Before doing so, Ingeborg had blinded him, that
Norway's daughters might not fall in love with his eyes.
The Story of Gorm, Thorkill, and Gudmund.^
King Gorm, having heard of a mysterious land owned by
a King Geirrod, in which were many riches, resolved
upon seeking it out. He was told he must sail across the
ocean, leave the sun and stars behind, journey down into Chaos,
and, at last, pass into a land where no light was. Taking
with him Thorkill as guide he started in three ships. After a
while, and suffering much hunger, they reached a land full of
herds. Despite Thorkill's injunctions the sailors slew more of
the beasts than they needed, and to appease the wrath of the
giant inhabitants, Gorm had to deliver up three of his men
chosen by lot.- After a while they came to Geirrod's land,
and were greeted by Gudmund, the king's brother. Thorkill
forbade his companions to speak, he alone conversing with the
folk of this land. They passed a river crossed by a bridge
of gold, access to which was denied them by Thorkill, and
arrived at Gudmund's hall. Again Thorkill warned his
comrades to abstain from food or drink, and to have no
contact with their hosts, likewise to keep their hands off the
servants and the cups of the people. Gudmund had twelve
sons and as many daughters, and w^hen he saw that his guests
would not partake of his food he sought to sap their chastity
by offering them his daughters and the women of his house-
hold. All the travellers save four resisted, and these paid with
' Saxo, 344-352, and Introduction, Ixix-lxxii. Rydberg, 212-214.
- The great similarity of certain episodes to analogous ones in the
Odyssey, will of course strike many readers, and the possibility of
direct literary influence must always be borne in mind when considering
such stories as these.
300 GORM, THORKILL, AND GUDMUND
their wits for the gratification of their lust. Gudmund then
extolled the delights of his garden, but Gorm, warned by
Thorkill, refused to accept his host's invitation to enter it.
The travellers then crossed the river, which led to Geirrod's
land, and entered a gloomy cavern of horrors, in which they
found Geirrod and his daughter suffering from the punish-
ment inflicted upon them by Thor.^ In the cavern were also
seven butts hooped round with belts of gold, the tusk of a
strange beast tipped at both ends with gold, a vast stag horn
decked with flashing gems, and a very heavy bracelet.
Gorm's men could not resist the temptation, but the treasures
when seized turned into serpents and swords, and avenged
themselves on the spoilers. In a further chamber were a
royal mantle, a handsome hat and a belt marvellously wrought.
Thorkill, struck with amazement, gave rein to his covetousness
and seized them, whereupon the whole cavern shook, the
inmates screamed out against them and assailed them ; all but
twenty of the travellers were torn to pieces, and these would
not have escaped save for the skill of two archers, Broder and
Buchi. The survivors were ferried back across the river by
Gudmund, and again entertained by him, and here Buchi, one
of the two hero-brothers, to whom the travellers had owed
their escape from Geirrod's cavern, ' forsook the virtue in which
he hitherto rejoiced. For he conceived an incurable passion
for one of the daughters of Gudmund and embraced her;
but he obtained a bride to his undoing, for soon his brain
suddenly began to whirl, and he lost his recollection.' ' For the
sake of respect he started to accompany the departing king,
1 This story is fully preserved by Snorre in his Edda, as also by the
eleventh century Icelander, Eilif Gudrunsson, in his Thorsdrapa. An
English -arsion of both texts may be found, Corpus Poeticum boreale, ii.
17-22.
HAD DING 301
but as he was about to ford the river in his carriage, his
wheels sank deep, he was caught up in the violent eddies and
destroyed.'
It was only after much fresh peril and suffering that Gorm
and Thorkill and a few of their men reached their own
country again.
The Hadding Story.^
Once as Hadding sat at supper, a woman bearing hemlocks
was seen to raise her head beside the brazier, and, stretch-
ing out the lap of her robe, seemed to ask, ' in what part of
the world such fresh herbs are grown in winter? ' The king
desired to know, and, wrapping him in her mantle, she drew
him with her underground. ' First they pierced through a
certain dark misty cloud, and then advancing along a road
worn with much thoroughfaring, they beheld certain men
wearing rich robes, and nobles clad in purple ; these passed,
they at last approached sunny regions which produced the
herbs the woman had brought away.' They crossed a river
whirling down in its leaden waters divers sorts of missiles,
beyond which they beheld two armies encountering with
might and main ; these, Hadding is told, are they who, .slain by
the sword, declare the manner of their death by a continual
rehearsal. Beyond, a wall hard to climb blocked their further
progress. On the further side lay the Land of Life, for
Hadding's guide, wringing the neck of a cock she bore
with her, flung it over, and forthwith the bird came to life
again.
Saga mentions of Gudmund's Land.
The Hervarar saga mentions Gudmund and his home,
Grund, situated in the Glittering Plains, forming a district
' Sa.xo, 37-3S, and Introduction, Ixviii. Rydberg, 215-216.
302 GUDMUND'S REALM
of Jotunheim. He was wise and mighty, and in a heathen
sense pious, says the Christian saga writer, and he and his
men became so old that they Uved many generations.
Therefore the heathens beUeved that Odainsakr was
situated in his country. ' That place is so healthy for every
one who comes there, that sickness and age depart, and
no one ever dies there.' Gucimund's land, Jotunheim, lies
to the north. Gudmund died after living half a thousand
years, and was worshipped by his people ae a god. Gudmund
is also mentioned as the ruler of the Glittering Plains, and as
a skilful magician in Herraud's and Bose's saga, whilst in
Thorstein Baearmagn's saga, the Glittering Plains are a land
subject to Jotunheim, which is ruled over by Geirrod.^
These traditions concerning a mysterious land full of riches
and delights are, as will have been noticed, far more strongly
influenced by Christian belief than the corresponding Irish
tales. They are also considerably later in the date of their
transcription. Saxo's stories of Gorm and Thorkill, and of
Hadding, were noted by him towards the close of the twelfth
century ; the story of Helge Thoreson was incorporated in the
long life of Olaf Tryggwason in the late thirteenth or early
fourteenth century; the story of Far-travelled Eric is in all
probability later still in its present form ; the various sagas
which casually allude to Gudmund and his realm are works
of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. But it must be
remembered that Christianity only won full acceptance in the
North in the eleventh century, so that an Icelandic account of
the twelfth or thirteenth centuries stands, relatively to
Christianity, as does an Irish account of the sixth or seventh
century. The Scandinavian presentment of the pagan myth-
^ Thc^e references are from Rydberg, 210-21 1, and Prof. York PoweH's
Introduction to Saxo, Ixvi et seq.
NORSE AND IRISH ROMANCE 303
ology and heroic saga of the North, due as it mainly is to
two Christian clerics, the Dane, Saxo Grammaticus in the
twelfth, and the Icelander, Snorre Sturlason (the compiler
of the prose Edda) in the thirteenth century, may thus give
us some idea of the shape Irish myth and saga would have
assumed were it preserved to us in a sixth or seventh century
version, instead of in a fragmentary gathering up of older
material due to the compilers and transcribers of the post-
Viking period. It is conceivable that, as in the case of
Scandinavian myth, the account would be more detailed and
pragmatic, whilst at the same time the antagonism between
the old and new faiths might be more strongly insisted upon.
As it is, Irish mythology is in the same position Norse
mytholog)' would be if Snorre's works had only survived in such
fragments as it suited men of the sixteenth or seventeenth
centuries to work into their reconstructions of the past.
Comparison with Irish Romance.
In spite of the insistent Christian influence, the pagan
groundwork of the traditions summarised in the foregoing
pages is evident, as is abundantly demonstrated by Rydberg
in his comment upon them. Comparison with analogous
Irish tales raises interesting questions. The Scandinavian
stories stand, it is at once seen, in a clear relation to the
official mythology. Jotunheim, the land of Gudmund and
Geirrod, Gudmund and Geirrod themselves, are all known
to us from some of the most archaic of the mythological texts,
and are brought into definite contact with the Asgard gods,
although in the later traditions, as also in the older mythic texts,
this cycle of conceptions lies outside, where it is not explicitly
opposed to, that which has its centre in Asgard. In Ireland,
304 NORSE AND IRISH ROMANCE
in so far as we can work back at all to an organised
mythology, we find the wonderland associated with the kin
of the gods, whether it be assigned to Manannan as in the
Oversea type, to Lug, to Midir, or to Angus, as in the Hollow
Hill type. In Scandinavia, on the other hand, it is associated
with beings alien from and, in so far as the Tartarus element
is concerned, hostile to the god clan. In Ireland, there is not
a single trace of a Tartarus counterpart to the Elysium ; in
Scandinavia, Gudmund's realm (Elysium) is closely connected
with Geirrod's realm (Tartarus), the whole forming a Hades
akin to the later classic account of the underworld. These
fundamental differences seem to me to bar the theory that the
Scandinavian account, as found in texts of the twelfth to
fourteenth centuries, owes anything to the Irish account as
found in texts of the eighth to eleventh centuries. Conversely,
one must, I think, put aside the idea that the gods' land
pictured in the Wooing of Etain or in Bran presupposes such a
mythological system as we find in Scandinavia. But I am by
no means certain that the Norse Journey to the Otherworld,
which, to judge it from its earliest and most archaic form,
Saxo's story of the visit of Gorm and Thorkill to Gudmund and
Geirrod, comprised a Tartarus as well as an Elysium section,
has not sporadically influenced Irish romance. I allude more
particularly to certain episodes in Maelduin, notably the visit
to the deserted island-palace, guarded by the silent cat which
punishes the theft committed by one of the intruders, and also
the incident of the Isles of Imitation, as they may be called,
where two of Maelduin's companions are left behind {supra.
Chapter iv.). As I have already stated, the texture of the
Maelduin story is so loose that we lack trustworthy criteria
for distinguishing interpolations, whether these are the result
of deliberate addition to the original version or arise from
ODAINSAKR 305
contamination of varying forms of the same incident. Thus
whilst nothing forbids the hypothesis of influence exercised
during the late ninth or tenth century upon the Irish Other-
world voyage narratives by corresponding Scandinavian stories,
there is no definite argument to be urged in its favour, beyond
this fact that the incidents of the theft of Otherworld treasures
followed by the punishment of the thief, and the abandonment
of a comrade consequent upon his yielding to Otherworld
allurements, form part of a logical sequence of events in the
Thorkill-Gudmund saga instead of being, as in the Irish stories,
disconnected episodes. I can here only state the interesting
problem involved, and must leave its solution to others, but
may note that the point is an important one, both for Celtic
and Norse literature. For if the surmised influence is a
reality, a considerably later date, say the middle of the tenth
century, must be assigned to certain portions of Maelduin's
Voyage as well as to the Isle of Joy episode in Bran's Voyage,
whilst a ninth-century warrant is obtained for Scandinavian
stories now known to us only from twelfth century and later
versions.^
Odainsakr in Norse Mythology.
Of far more moment is the relation of the Scandinavian
accounts of Odainsakr and the journeys thither with the mythical
system vouched for by the mythological poems, the Skaldic
Kennings and Snorre's thirteenth-century exposition (in the
prose Edda) based upon these and other authorities now lost.
Practically, the only scholar who has investigated this question
is Viktor Rydberg. The brilliant ingenuity, the subtle insight,
the capacity for divining and .sympathising with the mythopoeic
' Of course the possible influence of the Odyssey hinted at, sii/>ra 299,
would likewise account for the Maclduin episode.
U
3o6 ODAINSAKR
faculty displayed throughout his work, render it one of the
most fascinating in the whole range of mythological research.
But in dealing with his reconstructions of Norse mythology, it
is always doubtful if we have before us what the Teutonic
theologian-poets really believed, or what a man of genius
familiar with the results of nineteenth century research thinks
they must have believed. With this preliminary caution I
proceed to briefly state his theory.^
The Volospa summarises the history of the Universe in the
terms of Norse mythology. It describes the creation of the
material universe, the creation of man, the strife among the
god clans with its consequent train of moral and physical ills,
culminating in the final disappearance of the present order
divine as well as human, to make way for a brighter and
better world. But where were the inhabitants of this world to
come from ? The survival of part of the kin of the gods is
expressly provided for. How about man ? The existing race
is ex hypothesi corrupt and unfit to inhabit the new universe.
Provision is therefore made for the seclusion of a human pair,
Lif and Leifthraser, before the human race has suffered cor-
ruption, in a land into which death cannot enter, a land free
from all ills, from which, after the final catastrophe which is to
overwhelm both Asgard and Midgard, i.e. the existing polities
both of gods and men, they are to issue and repeople the Uni-
verse. This land is Odainsakr, the acre of the not dead, Jord:
lifanda mamia, the earth of living men. It is guarded by the
seven sons of Mimer, the giant smiths who fashioned the
primeval weapons and ornaments ; these, sunk in a deep sleep,
which shall last until the Dusk of the gods, when they awake
to take their part in the final conflict between the powers of
good aixd evil, and to ensure the existence of Odainsakr, rest
^ Rydberg, Sections 50-56.
O D A I N S A K R 307
in a hall wherein are preserved a number of products of their
skill as smiths, as also Heimdall's horn, the blast of which is
to summon the gods and their allies against the impious kin
of Loki. The mortals who have penetrated thither and sought
to carry off these objects, necessary in the final conflict, or to
waken the sleepers before the destined time when, Asgard and
its inmates having disappeared, upon them alone rests the
hope of a rejuvenated world, these mortals are punished by
death or dire disease. When Christianity supplanted the
Asgard religion, Mimer, lord of the grove where dwell Lif and
Leifthraser nourished upon morning dew, suffered the same
change as did so many of the deities of classic paganism.
From being a wholly beneficent being, he takes on a half
demoniac nature, and, as Gudmund of the Glittering Plains,
comes before us in later sagas profoundly modified in their
passage through the minds of Christian writers, wearing a
strangely enigmatic aspect.
Rydberg's reconstruction of this, as he deems it one of the
essential elements of the mythology, derives its chief support
from comparison with an Iranian myth found in the Avesta.
Before passing on to the consideration of this and other ex-
pressions of the Happy Otherworld conception in Iranian
mythic literature, it may be well to briefly note the resemblances
and differences between the Irish and Scandinavian accounts
of the wonderland apart from any hypothetical mythological
significance attached to the latter. It is less essentially in
Scandinavia than in Ireland, the Land of Heart's Desire ; even
in the story of Eric the traveller it is disparaged by comparison
with the Christian paradise, whilst in the other stories its
proximity to the Northern Tartarus and the uncanny semi-
demoniac nature of its inmates, are far more prominent features
than are the joys and delights of their realm. Again, whilst in
3o8 NORSE AND IRISH MYTH
many Irish stories the Otherworld is differentiated from this
by the fact that the wanderer who returns thence at once falls
subject to mortality and decay, in Scandinavia death and dis-
ease are his portion who partakes of the food or accepts the
love offered by its denizens. In this respect the Irish
account differs not only from the Scandinavian and later
Greek, but also with current folk-belief both of the backward
classes among the civilised races and of a number of the
uncivilised races. Current folk-belief in Ireland is as strong
as elsewhere against partaking of fairy food or joining in fairy
revels, and yet, as we see, Irish mythic literature is full of the
delight of Faery. This instance may be commended to those
who look upon folk-belief as wholly a product of literature.
The geographical relations of the two worlds differ greatly
in Ireland and Scandinavia ; in the former the Otherworld
is definitely placed in the realm of the setting sun, or vaguely
located within the hollow hill ; in the latter a systematised
eschatology has left its mark upon the accounts of Gudmund's
land; it is as much a part of the Underworld as the post
fifth-century Greek Elysium is a part of Hades, and to obtain
access to it the mortal has to travel northwards. Scandinavian
legend does not insist, as does Irish, upon the amorous nature
of the Otherworld inhabitants; its princes do not come wooing
mortal maidens, its ladies are not fain of mortal lovers. True,
this element is not altogether lacking in Scandinavian mythic
saga, but it has assumed a different aspect, and manifests itself
at a different stage of mythic development. In the stories of
Helge Thoreson or of Thorkill, Gudmund's daughters lack the
independence, the initiation, the sense of personal freedom
and dignity displayed by Fann, or the damsels who seek out
Bran and Connla.
In all these respects the Scandinavian stories approximate
IRANIAN MYTH 309
more closely to the later, the Irish to the earlier, aspects of
Greek mythology. The ideal of a god's land, untouched by
ethical speculation, standing in no moral relation to the world
of men, has been transformed in Scandinavia to meet the
requirements of a highly developed mythological system. Its
original signification has been further obscured, thanks to the
fact that the stories in which it found expression have suffered
the alien influence of Christianity. Nevertheless, the primitive
elements persist to a larger extent than might have been
expected. The land is still one of simple sensuous joys, its
inhabitants are still eager to welcome and retain mortal
visitors.
Iranian Mythic Literature.
The Iranian mythology to which Rydberg has appealed for
conformation of the myth concerning the future inhabitants of
the world, and their present existence in a land of delights
where death may not enter, is, as found in the Avesta, in a more
advanced stage of development than the Eddaic.^ Whether
on the cosmological or the eschatological side, it is as highly
organised as the Hellenic mythology. The cosmology, as is
well known, is extremely elaborate. The creative impulse
works through the medium of many subordinate powers.
Among the beings who play a necessary part in the scheme
of things, is Yima, a glorified Adam, conceived of not only as
the first man to whom Ahura Mazda revealed his law, but as
an abiding representative and guide of humanity. The second
fargad of the Vendidad tells how Ahura Mazda confided
humanity to the care of Yima.^ ' Multiply my creatures, cause
1 All quotations from the Avesta are from Le Zend-Avesta, traduction
nouvelle avec commcntaire historique et philologique, par James Dar-
mestetcr. 3 vols. Paris, 1892-93.
- Avesta, ii. 16 et seq. Cf. Rydberg, sect. 54.
'.miujijui. J
3IO YIMA'S REALM
them to grow, have charge of them, rule them, watch over
them.' Yima accepts and answers : ' In my reahn there
•shall be neither cold wind nor hot wind, neither sickness nor
death.' In token of his empire Ahura Mazda gave him a
golden seal and a gold-incrusted sword. Time passes, and
thrice Yima has to enlarge the habitable earth to make room
for the increase of human and animal life. After 900 years
Ahura Mazda warns Yima that an evil winter, a hard killing
frost, shall come upon the material world. The animal world
is to take refuge in underground shelter. Yima is to construct
an enclosure some two miles square, and to transport thither seed,
the largest, fairest and best of cattle, small and large, of men,
of dogs, of birds, of red and blazing fires, also of plants and
fruits, and there they shall remain. ' And there shall be there
no crooked person or hunchback, no impotent or lawless
man, no wicked or deceitful, no envious or jealous person,
nor any man with ill-formed teeth, or any leper, or marked
with any of the signs which Afigra Mainyu (Ahriman) puts
on mortals.' Yima did as he was bid, and in that enclosure
the one thing lacking was the sight of stars and moon and sun,
and a year passed as a day.^ Every 40 years there was born
^ This is the only instance to my knowledge in which a rational inter-
pretation is suggested of that supernatural lapse of time wh'ch is so marked
a characteristic of the Otherworld. The progress of time is indicated by
the course of the sun. But if the sun is only seen once a year then a year
is a day. If we were to adopt the opinion of certain scholars that the
rational and coherent precedes the irrational and incoherent, and that all
examples of a mental conception are traceable back to one original model,
then it is evident that all instances of the supernatural lapse of time in
Faery, which as a rule are presented without any attempt at explanation,
are derived from this Avestic myth. It is occasionally useful to be able to
reduce to absurdity a theory which at first blush is so plausible as to seem
self-evident to many persons.
YIMA'S REALM 311
offspring to each couple, human or animal. ' And in Yima's
enclosure men led the fairest of lives.'
In this remarkable /tzr;^^^, Yima seems identified with two
distinct realms free from death and other earthly ills, (i) a
paradisaical region, Eran Vej, at the beginning of human
history, (2) the enclosure in which are preserved specimens of
animals during the hard killing frost which would otherwise
destroy life. The first is apparently that alluded to in a
passage in Rain Yasht} Yima invokes Vajush, the heavenly
breeze : ' grant me this boon Vajush to become the most
brilliant of men born into the world — under my reign to free
men and cattle from death, plants and waters from drought,
so that food may never fail the devouring tooth. And in
Yima's reign there was neither heat nor cold, neither old age
nor death, nor envy, the work of demons.' The Alinokhird, a
mediaeval catechism of the legends and morals of the Avesta
religion, also describes this paradisaical region, ' Ahura
Mazda created Eran Vej, best of lands and regions. It has
this excellence, that in it men live to 300, cattle to 150 years ;
there is little suffering there or disease ; men do not lie there
nor do they yield to grief. The demon of want does not rule
their bodies, and ten men are satisfied with one loaf Every
forty years there is born a child to a man and woman . . .2
1 Rydberg, 258. Avesta, ii. 584.
- This Malthusian trait is remarkable, because many Avestic texts attach
the utmost importance to numerous offspring. Cf. Fargad 4 of the Ven-
didad with its strong anti-ascetic bias (Avesta, ii. 61). There would
seem to be here traces of an alien ascetic principle, either Buddhist or
Christian, which has likewise affected the story of Yima's enclosure.
Kohut in the article cited, infra 315, surmises Jewish influence. The 40
years is, he thinks, taken from the Genesis account of the Garden of
Eden. Against which it may be urged that only after their expulsion
from the Garden of Eden are children born to Adam and Eve.
lAHHilf-MmilllllMI Hlli»»l. »■
312 AVESTIC HEAVEN
When they die they are blessed (i.e. go to heaven).'
Darmesteter, from whom I quote this passage, holds that it is
imitated from the Vendidad's account of Yima's enclosure.^
The Minokhird knows this likewise, and states that after the
'conflagration of the world and in the beginning of the
regeneration, the garden which Yima made shall open its gates,
and thence men, animals and plants shall once more fill the
devastated world.' ^ A very similar account is furnished by
another mediaeval {i.e. eighth or ninth century text) the
Btmdahesh, ' there shall come a terrible rain during three years,
with cold winters and hot summers, causing snow and hail to
fall without ceasing; men, no longer having the resource of
fire, shall all perish. Then the human race shall be re-
constituted in Yima's enclosure, and for that reason Avas it
made in a secret place.' ^
This cosmological Elysium is clearly distinguished in the
Avestic texts from the eschatological one, or from heaven.
Fargad 19 of the Vendidad describes what takes place
after death, and how the righteous come to Garotman, the
dwelling - place of Ahura Mazda. ' I hail thee,' says
Zarathustra, 'Paradise of Saints, gleaming, blessed.''*
Thus the mythic literature of the Aryan inhabitants of
Persia know of three blessed regions — the dwelling-place of
humanity at the beginning of time or the Iranian counterpart
of the Hesiodic golden age ; Yima's enclosure in which life is
stored up during a catastrophe which would otherwise destroy
it, the Iranian counterpart, according to Rydberg of the
Scandinavian Odainsakr in which Lif and Leifthraser await
Ragnarok and the destruction of the existing order of things ;
and a heaven to which the righteous go after death.
^ Avesta, ii. 30. ^ Quoted by Rydberg, 262.
^ Quoted Avesta, ii. 19. * Avesta, ii. 271.
DATE OF THE AVESTA 313
What is the age of these conceptions and in what relation
do they stand to analogous conceptions among the Aryan and
non-Aryan peoples of antiquity? The latest editor of the
Avesta, the distinguished French scholar M. Darmesteter,
whose premature death has been such a cruel loss to science,
has proved, beyond, I think, all possibility of doubt, that the
Avesta assumed its present form at a comparatively modern
date, in the first and second centuries of our era. It is the
product of a revival of the old national religion after a period
of eclipse, consequent upon the conquest of Alexander, the
subsequent rule of Greek princes, and the domination of Greek
ideas. The late date assigned to the compilation and canoni-
fication of the Avestic text, justifies a priori hypotheses of
possible foreign influence both Greek and Jewish. M, Darm-
esteter boldly translates, first, possibility into probability, and
then, probability into certainty. For him the elaborate cosmo-
logy of the Avesta is largely a reflex of Neo-Platonic speculation,
the economy of the Avesta is modelled upon that of the
Hebrew Sacred Books, Iranian mythico-religious history has
been influenced by that of the Jews. Thus the myth of
Yima's enclosure is a loan from the Jewish account of the
Noachian deluge. Presumptuous as it may seem to differ
from a scholar of M. Darmesteter's eminence, I must avow my
disbelief in these conclusions. The arguments upon which he
relies to prove Neo-Platonic influence, impress me as carrying
very little weight, and as vitiated by their neglect to inquire
the source of Neo-Platonic and Platonic speculation.^ The
' A recent study of Avestic religion may be cited in this connection : L'etat
religieux de la Grcce et de I'Orient au siecle d'Alexandre. Second mcmoire
— Les regions syro-babyloniennes et I'Eran. lar F. Robiou. Paris, 1895.
M. Robiou's memoir was written before the publication of Darmesteter's
researches, to which he only alludes briefly in an appendix. It is interest-
314 DARMESTETER ON AVESTA
parallelism between the Iranian and Jewish stories of how
humanity was almost entirely destroyed and afterwards recon-
stituted, is not only to my mind very slight, but the Iranian
narrative seems to me to belong to an earUer, less advanced
ing to note how the same facts lend themselves to very different con-
clusions. M. Robioii, like M. Darmesteter, maintains the complexity and
inconsistency of the existing Avesta, but explains it as the result of the
gradual transformation of an originally pure monotheistic creed into a
nominal dualism and practical polytheism, whilst M. Darmesteter
would rather, I fancy, describe the process as the transformation, under
the influence of alien philosophical doctrines, of a primitive naturalistic
creed, such as we meet with in the Vedas, into a cross between dualism
and pantheism. M. Darmesteter rightly, as it seems to me, picks out as
really the oldest elements in the Avestic literature much that M. Robiou
regards as comparatively speaking modern corruptions. M. Robiou is,
of course, entitled to point out that these elements do occur in those
portions of the Avestic collection which are, as regards language and
form, the latest. We are, in fact, once more in presence of the old
question — does the date of record necessarily give a clew to the date
of origin ?
In addition to the reason given in the text for dissenting from M.
Darmesteter's theory of the late composition of the Avestic texts (as dis-
tinguished from their collection and canonification) I would point out that
it is admitted by all scholars, M. Darmesteter as well as others, that the
Gathas or hymns preserved in the Yasna, or Liturgy, are the earliest
portion of the Avesta. They are written in a language which, on M.
Darmesteter's own admission, must have been obsolete for three or four
centuries at the date he assigns to their composition (first century B.C.).
He claims, however, that this language had been preserved as a sacred
idiom. We have, of course, plenty of examples of the preservation of a
dead language for purposes of religion — Vedic Sanskrit, Hebrew, Latin,
Church Slavonic, are all cases in point. But in each case the language
has been preserved because it is that of the sacred writings. Now M.
Darmesteter's hypothesis assumes either, that at the date when according
to him the Gathas were composed, the earlier Iranian sacred writings had
disappeared, or else, that if still existent, they so far failed to answer to
,-nau>iiuiiu
DARMESTETER ON AVESTA 315
stage of religious imagination. ^ M, Darmesteter has in fact
not convinced me that, late as the Avesta may have assumed
its present shape, it does not contain a deal of archaic mythical
speculation in a relatively pure form. But however far back
we feel disposed to carry portions of the Iranian mythology,
preserved to us in a form contemporaneous with the earliest
stratum of Christian literature, there is no reason for assuming
them to be older than the Greek accounts found in the epic
and didactic literature associated with the names of Homer and
Hesiod. The most archaic elements of the Avestic faith were,
however, from the first recognised as closely akin to those of
the Sanskrit-speaking Aryan invaders of North-West India.
the religious requirements of the revival that it was necessary to replace
them by something of a markedly different character — our present Gathas.
Is it then at all likely that these would have been written in what was
practically a dead language? I do not feel competent to express a
decided opinion on such a subject.
1 The dependence of the Avestic myth upon Genesis has been elabor-
ately worked out by the late Rev. Dr. A. Kohut in his article entitled :
'The Zendavesta and the first eleven chapters of Genesis' (Jewish
Quarterly Review, April, 1890). I have read this carefully, but remain
unconvinced. Kohut brings into strong prominence the features common
to both stories — an easy task — but entirely neglects either to enumerate
the points of difference or to explain how these arose. Now in comparing
two stories it is much more important to see where they differ than where
they resemble each other, and if a real connection is established between
them, it is most important to explain why they differ. Ex Itypotliesi the
rational, straightforward, historical record of the Jewish writings was
turned into an obscure, incoherent and strongly mythical narrative at a
time when the Avesta worshippers were transforming their national
creed under the influence of the advanced philosophical speculation of
the Greeks and of the advanced theological and ethical speculation of the
Jews. That under the circumstances the story of Yinia's grove should be
the outcome of imitation of the Noachian deluge seems to me incredible
in the last degree.
• «.A'J»t-tJHJl
3i6 VEDIC MYTH
Consideration of what Sanskrit mythic Hterature says concern-
ing our theme may supply some more definite conclusion
respecting the date of the Avestic myths. But, first a word as
to the hypothetical parallelism of Iranian and Scandinavian
mythology. Assuming for a moment the correctness of Ryd-
berg's reconstruction of the Scandinavian myth of Odainsakr,
there is nothing, historically and geographically, that need
surprise in a closer kinship of Teutonic and Iranian, than of
Teutonic and Hellenic myth, provided we assume a compara-
tively recent date for the Aryan conquest of Iran, and a con-
siderable eastward and south-eastward extension of the Teutons
from their Baltic home.
Vedic Mythical Literature.
If we turn to the race which, in language and structure of
the mythology, is most nearly kin to the adherents of the
Avestic creed — the Sanskrit-speaking settlers in the Punjab,
to whom the Vedic hymns are commonly ascribed, we find
ourselves necessarily carried back to an earlier period in the
world's history than is the case with the Iranians. For, within
the Iranian unity, the earliest term of comparison available for
dating the Avestic documents linguistically is supplied by the
old-Persian inscriptions set up by Darius in the sixth century
B.C. Scholars are generally agreed that the oldest portions of
the Avesta are, in point of language, of equal antiquity, and
we have seen that Darmesteter, who places the composition of
these portions in the first century B.C., has to assume the
continued existence of a sacred language. But beyond the
sixth century B.C. we cannot carry the Avestic texts save by
surmise and conjecture. In India, on the other hand, the
r»75!9T"!r,
VEDIC MYTH 317
sixth century witnessed the birth of Buddha and the great
religious revolution due to his preaching. This, however,
not only presupposes a highly organised form of Brahmanism
against which Buddha's teaching was directed, but also that
it had been in existence a sufficient length of time to
excite the discontent which culminated in the revolt of
Buddhism, and in the numerous religious and philosophical
movements which facilitated or competed with the work of
Buddha. Brahmanism, again, is held to be but the last term of
a lengthy religious evolution, the stages of which can be traced
from the oldest portions of the Rig Veda, through the younger
hymns of the same collections, through the liturgical petrifac-
tion of the Vedic creed in the Yajur Vedas, through the
formal systematisation of the doctrines in the Brahmanas, and
the elaboration of the metaphysical elements in the Upanishads.
Scholars differ as to the lapse of time required for this evolu-
tion. L. V. Schroder postulates a thousand years back from
the sixth century B.C., and thus reaches a date oi circa 1500
B.C. for the older portions of the Rig Veda. Whitney would
allow a further 400 to 500 years ; the latest investigator,
Oldenberg, only commits himself to the statement that the
Vedic Indians were settled in the Punjab about 1200 to 1000
R.c, and that the oldest parts of their literature belong to this
period.^
The validity of this kind of reasoning may be admitted in
so far as Vedic literature en bloc is concerned, but it would be
unsafe to rely upon it when we essay to critically discriminate
the various strata of that literature. Material external evid-
ence is altogether lacking. By this I mean that we possess no
MS. which approaches even within 2000 years the date at which
the Rig Veda hymns were collected in their present form.
' II. Oldenberg, Die Religion dcs Veda, Berlin, 1S94.
3i8 VEDIC LITERATURE
We do not even know whether for centuries after that date, be it
what it may, the preservation of this literature was entirely oral
or whether it was committed to writing. The very date of the
introduction of writing into India is uncertain in the extreme.
For the last twenty centuries at least Vedic Sanskrit has been a
learned, dead language, yet the entire mass, gigantic in extent as
it is, of Vedic Hterature continues to be committed to memory
with a minute accuracy that Avould be incredible were it not
abundantly attested. Was it so in the past, and were the
Brahmins as insistent then as now upon retaining every jot
and tittle of the sacred text ? Possibly it was so, but we can-
not be sure. Let me put a parallel case. Suppose the oldest
Mss. of the Christian Scriptures dated from the last century,
that we had no means of deciding whether the text contained
in those mss. had been preserved orally or was based, in some
unknown way, upon earlier mss. ; suppose moreover, that, not
the Scriptures alone, but the entire mass of Christian literature
since Christ was in the same case, that every precise chrono-
logical indication we now possess concerning the authors of
this literature was lacking, that we had no annalistic schemes,
no general or local chronicles to assist us, that we had e.g. to
decide the date of the Latin writings of, say Augustine,
Abelard, Calvin, and the latest Jesuit professor at Rome or
Maynooth, solely by considerations derived from the nature of
the language and the character of the dogmas. Could
we imagine a satisfactory history of Christianity, if such were
the conditions under which investigators of its past had to
work ?
Speaking as a layman, I do not think the hypothetical case
at all exaggerates the difficulties involved in the criticism of
Indian literature, and in especial of its older portions. We
can only guess at the lapse of time required for changes in the
VEDIC LITERATURE 319
language, for modifications of doctrine, for the budding, blos-
soming and decay of new religious and philosophical move-
ments. We know nothing concerning the possible contempor-
aneous existence, in different parts of prehistoric India, of
different stages of the national idiom, of different schools of
religious and philosophic thought. We must be content with
plausible hypotheses, and, for the present at least, to forego
positive assurance based upon material evidence. One thing
alone is certain. Buddhism starts in the sixth century B.C. and
Vedic texts of some sort must be considerably older.
I purpose citing from Vedic literature, as preserved, passages
relating to the Happy Othenvorld. I may say at once that in
the preceding passage I by no means intend to cast any doubt
upon the authenticity of that literature as a whole. But it is
precisely texts containing conceptions of this character — con-
ceptions, that is, simple it may be and rude in their origin,
but forming at a later date integral elements of a highly
developed theological system — that are most susceptible of
modification, whether it take the form of suppression or
addition.
To cite an instance : modern criticism is unanimous in re-
cognising that the account of Ulysses' descent into Hades is a
composite document exhibiting traces of markedly distinct
stages in the evolution of the doctrines concerning life after
death. But if this doctrine had not continued to occupy and
fascinate the Greek imagination there would have been no
reason for modifying the original Homeric account. On the
other hand, modern analysis is necessarily largely subjective,
and the discrimination of earlier and later elements is
based upon hypotheses concerning the evolution of Greek
religion, a question as to which each scholar has his own
opinion. It is well then to bear in mind that we can never be
320 VEDIC HEAVEN
absolutely sure that any particular passage of the Vedic hymns
has come down to us in its original form, however convinced
we may be of the archaic nature of the hymns as a whole.
With this caveat I proceed to lay before the reader passages
chiefly taken from Oldenberg's admirable account of Vedic
religion.
In the ninth book of the Rig Veda, the sacrificer thus in-
vokes the divine plant Soma :
'Where is uncreated light, therein are placed world and sun,
thither bear me Soma, where is the never-ending world of
deathlessness.
Where Vivasant's son {i.e. Yama) is king, in the firm vault of
Heaven, where running waters are, there let me be undying.
Where one moves at will, in the threefold firmament, in the three-
fold heaven of heavens, where the worlds of light are, there
let me be never dying.
Where desire and fulfilment (are one) in the red spaces of heaven,
where the ghostly food is, there let me be immortal.
Where joy and delight, pleasure and satisfaction await, where
desire's desires are fulfilled, there let me be never dying.'
This remarkable hymn, found in a collection ascribed by
scholars to various dates between the years 2000 and 1000 B.C.,
pictures it will be seen a ' heaven,' an abode of bliss where
man enjoys immortal life by favour of divine being, as a reward
for certain conduct, in this case due performance of the sacri-
fice. The lord of this heaven is Yama, whom a passage in the
tenth book of the Rig Veda describes as ' carousing with the
gods beneath the shade of a leafy tree,' a description which seems
to bring one into a simpler, more archaic cycle of conceptions
than the hymn I have just cited. Of a similar nature is a passage
VEDIC HEAVEN 321
from the Atharva Veda, that collection of magical spells and
sayings which, though younger in form, according to expert
opinion, than the Rig Veda, may contain far older elements.
Heaven is thus described (Ath. V. iv. 34), ' Dykes of butter
are there, with shores of honey, filled with brandy instead of
water, full of milk, of water, of sour milk; such, all the streams
that flow, honey sweet, welling up in the heavenly land. Lotus
groves shall surround thee on every side.' Here we are again
confronted with the familiar equipment of a primitive agricul-
tural elysium.
The immortality claimed by the soma devotee as his reward
does not exhaust the privileges of those who reach Yama's
realm. According to Atharva Veda, iii. 28. 5, 'The blessed
ones leave the infirmity of their bodies behind them, they are
neither lame nor crooked of body ; ' ^ whilst Rig Veda x. 154,
adds details which in realistic grossness transcend anything
outside Mohammedan literature ; the dead are burned, but as
for the blessed one to whom heaven is reserved, 'non urit
ignis membrum virile nee arripit deus Yama semen ejus,
much womankind shall be his in heaven.' ^
In summing up the Vedic creed as to future life, Oldenberg
points out : firstly, that heaven is distinctly reserved for the
pious, 'those who by mortification attain the sun' (R. V. x.
154, 2) ; secondly, that it has for its counterpart a hell (R. V.
VII. 104, 3), ' Indra and Soma,' thus cries the worshipper,
^ Compare this with the Avestic statement that no deformed person can
enter Yima's enclosure (supra, 310). Oldenberg has well pointed out
that the early Vedic heaven is essentially aristocratic in its organisation,
and it is noteworthy in this connection that amongst the ancient Irish
deformity, or any bodily blemish, was held to be a bar to exercise of
kingly power.
- Compare this with the unlimited love making which is an essential
element in the Irish accounts of the Happy Othcrworld.
X
322 YAMA AND YIMA
' thrust evil-doers down into the dungeon, into endless darkness,
so that not one shall come out ' ; again (R. V. iv. 5, 5), ' Those
who roam about like brotherless girls, who follow evil courses
like women who deceive their husbands, who are bad,
false, untruthful, they have brought into being those deep
dwelling-places' ; and, finally, ' that the heaven ideal of the Rig
Veda hardly rises above the level of a land of Cockayne trans-
ported into the realms of light, a land flowing with inex-
haustible streams of milk and honey, and provided with
equally inexhaustible harem delights.'
These quotations, few as they are, from Vedic literature,
together with the reflections they suggest to an acute and
sober scholar like Oldenberg, may yield to others, as they do
to me, the impression of long and complex evolution within the
limits of Vedic literature. The idea of 'heaven,' as we have
seen amongst Greeks and Scandinavians, is gradually evolved
from that of the older Elysium, the elements of which it assimi-
lates and transforms. In the Avestic creed such an Elysium
appears in a twofold aspect, each time connected with Yima,
and each time definitely disassociated from the Avestic
heaven. That the Vedic Yama is the counterpart of the
Avestic Yima is unanimously agreed. But whereas the latter
is clearly marked off from the god clan, whereas his domain
is no divine land of rewards and punishments, or heaven, the
former, even in the oldest portions of the Rig Veda, figures as
the divine lord of the land to which men go after death.
True, there are not wanting traces of an earlier stage of his
personality, one in which he was the first patriarch, the pro-
genitor of mankind, and, as the first to suffer death, the
natural ruler in the kingdom of death. But taking the earliest
stratum of Vedic literature as a whole, Yama may be said to
fill in it the place of an Indian Pluto. With advancing years.
INDRA'S REALM 323
and as the conception of a future life became more precise,
the law whose operation we have already observed in
Greece may also be noted in India ; the penal side of future
life it is which assumes prominence — the lord of the Other-
world becomes essentially a ruler of hell. Not that Yama
ever entirely loses his connection with Elysium, but during
what has been termed the Mediaeval period of Indian civilisa-
tion, roughly speaking from the sixth and fifth centuries B.C.
onwards, it is the Tartarean phase of Yama's character which
is most prominent. The ultimate outcome of this evolution
is a series of hell visions, which for puerile beastliness of
horror outvie anything perhaps that even this hideous phase
of theological fancy has pictured.^ The later stages of Avestic
literature, e.g., the vision of Arda Viraf, dating in its present
form from the seventh or eighth century a.d., show a similar
evolution. -
Whilst the genial patriarch, who in the beginning of years
caroused with the gods in the leafy grove, was being gradually
turned into a Satan, his place as ruler of the halls of the blessed
was, for a time at least, taken by Indra. In the Mahabharata,
that vast epic literature, which grew to its present swollen
bulk during a period of some thousand years, extending from
the fourth century before, to the sixth or seventh century after
Christ, it is to Indra's realm that the thoughts of the dying
warrior turn. ' Whoso finds death in battle, flying not, for him
never-ending joys in the palace of Indra,' says the great epic.
* Cf. L. Schermann, Materialien zur Geschichte der Indischen Visions
lilteratur. Leipzig, 1892. I have made considerable use of this rich
collection of material in the foregoing pages.
- The Book of Arda Viraf has been edited and translated by Haug and
West, Bombay, 1892. Cf, also West's translation of the Bahman Yasht
(Sacred Books of the East, vol. v.).
324 INDRA'S REALM
This palace, Swarga, which on one side recalls the Scandi-
navian Walhalla, is on another the model of the Mohammedan
heaven. The ' never-ending joys ' are essentially joys of the
senses. Swarga is glorious with precious stones, surrounded
by the fairest gardens ; King Indra sits on his throne whilst
the Gandharvas and Apsaras sing and dance before him. The
Apsaras, ' Indra's girls,' fairest, most desirable and most
ardent of women, av/ait the fallen warrior, thousands are ready
for him, says Indra, and cry out to him, ' Be thou my hus-
band.' This warlike conception of merit is probably the
earliest, but the texts which tell of Indra's heaven date from
a time when not only the Brahminical system had been fully
elaborated, but when it had also been affected by the ascetic
movement of which Buddhism was the chief; thus we learn
that strenuous fasting and many pilgrimages are as sure a
claim upon the favours of the Apsaras as honourable death
on the battle-field. Yet these houris who in another world
are the rewarding compensation of the ascetic devotee, may in
this be used by the gods to tempt him to backsliding, in case
his accumulation of merit, and consequent power, through
the practice of self-inflicted torture, be so great as to cause
them alarm — a striking example of the inconsistency of the
whole conception, and a proof of the diverse elements that
enter into it.^
It would seem that the Indians, like the Greeks, not con-
tent with working up the Elysium ideal into a paradisaical
golden age (Yama's realm in its hypothetical original significa-
tion corresponding to the Hesiodic golden age and to the
Avestic Eran Vej in which Yima ruled over the first men),
and into a heaven (Yama's realm in its later signification and
^ This paragraph is chiefly based upon Ch. 26 of L. v. Schroder, Indian's
Litteratur and Cultur in historischer Entwickelung. Leipzig, 1887.
UTTARA KURU 325
Indra's Swarga corresponding to the Elysium section of the
Greek Hades), also used it in picturing an Utopia. The land
of Uttara Kuru lay beyond the Himalayas, 'that land is
neither too cold nor too warm, free it is from sickness, care
and sorrow are unknown there ; the earth is not dusty and
yields a sweet smell; the streams flow in a golden bed roll-
ing down pearls and jewels instead of pebbles.' ^ The con-
quests of Alexander brought these legends to the knowledge
of the Greeks. Amometos wrote a novel about the Atta-
coren, and they were naturally and inevitably identified with
the Hyperboreans, who had been so long the subject of
similar tales among the Greeks.^ The Indian story may pro-
fitably be compared with the Avestic one of Yima's first
realm — both lands lie to the north beyond the mountains,
and both have in all probability the same historic element
in their composition, representing as they do memories of a
fertile valley region {for the Persians the valley of the Araxes,^
for the Indians that of the Oxus?), from which they were
^ Quoted from the Ramayana by Lassen, Zeitschrift flir die Kunde des
Morgenlandes, vol. ii. 63. Lassen points out that the inhabitants of this
favoured region are, in addition to the Kurus, ' demi-gods of different
kinds, living in endless joy, and the seven great saints of the primceval
world.' In the epic geography, Uttara Kuru was bounded on the north
by an ocean beyond which lay endless darkness, in which no sun shone.
In the Mahabharata, Uttara Kuru is renowned as the land of the golden
primeval age ; in particular, it is noted that the position of women was
freer than the days of the epic poet.
* Cf. Rohde, Griechischer Roman, 218. A. would seem to have written
in the third century B.C. at which date the legendary accounts of the
Ramayana and Mahabharata must have been in existence.
f ' This is Darmesteler's conjecture, Avesta ii. sect. 4, in opposition to the
commonly accepted view which places the Iranian Par.idise in the Oxus
valley, a view dating from the time when the original seat of the Aryans
was held to be the district watered by the head stream of the Oxus.
326 CHRONOLOGICAL SYNOPSIS
driven to occupy the regions in which we find them at the
dawn of their history.
We must now gather up the various dropped threads of
our investigation and see if they can be worked into an
orderly pattern, retracing the growth of the Elysium concep-
tion among the Indo-Germanic races. It will be convenient
to arrange the indications yielded us by literature chrono-
logically, remembering, however, that the chronology is a
tentative one as far as the older dates are concerned, and that
as regards the races which come later within the purview of
antique civilisation (such as the Germans, and especially the
Irish) late dating does not necessarily imply late origin,
indeed supplies no valid argument in favour of such a
contention.
1 500-1000 B.C. India. Vedic presentment of Yama's
realm — golden age form of the Elysium ideal develop-
ing into the heaven form.
1000-800 B.C. Greece. Homeric presentment of the
gods' land and of realms to which mortals may be
transported by special favour of the gods.
800-700 B.C. Greece. Hesiodic account of a golden age
and of an Elysium to which specially meritorious mortals
penetrate after death. Development by the later epic
poets of the Homeric Elysium.
1000-700 B.C. India. Post- Vedic development of Yama's
realm into a definite heaven sometimes associated with
him, sometimes with Indra. Great elaboration of the
penal side of future life.
700-500 B.C. Greece. Greek development of Elysium
into heaven, coalescence of Elysium and gods' land.
Elaboration of penal side of future life.
600 B.^. to A.D. Persia. Avestic account of paradisaical
CHRONOLOGICAL SYNOPSIS 327
golden age (Yima's realm), of cosmological Elysium
(Yima's grove in which human and animal life is stored
up against a great natural catastrophe). Elaboration of
heaven, development and systematisation of hell.
600 B.C. to A.D. India. Buddhist revolt in India against
outcome of Brahminical eschatology. Romantic and
epic use of heaven ideal. Romantic use of Elysium
ideal (connected with golden age form ?).
500-300 B.C. Greece. Elaboration and systematisation of
Greek eschatology under influence of Orphic-Pytha
gorean doctrines. Romantic and didactic use of the
Elysium ideal in the Utopia literature.
300 B.C. to A.D. Hellenistic Period. Influence of Greek
upon Jewish eschatology. Contact of Greece and
Persia, of Greece and India. Formation of a rich
eschatological Greek-Jewish literature in which all
previous elements mingle and develop. Marked
prominence of communistic element. Further elabora-
tion of hell.
1-500 A.D. Hellenistic Christian Period. Transfor-
mation of Greek-Jewish into Christian eschatological
literature. Romantic Jewish and Christian use of the
Elysium ideal. Transformation and degradation of hell.
600-700 A.D. Ireland. Earliest Irish eschatological
texts (?) Purely Christian.
1-800 A.D. India and Persia. Great and progressive
elaboration of hell in Avestic, Sanskrit, and Jewish
literature.
700-800 A.D. Ireland. Irish non-Christian Elysium texts.
Elysium (a) a land to which mortals may penetrate by
especial favour of divine beings ; (d) the gods' land.
No trace of heaven or hell.
328 CHRONOLOGICAL SYNOPSIS
700-800 A.D. England. Anglo-Saxon version of Phcenix.
800-1100 A.D. Ireland. Romantic and didactic develop-
ment of Irish Elysium. Christian transformation of
same (in Navigatio S. Brendani).
800-1200 A.D. Scandinavia. Scandinavian eschatological
texts. Heaven and hell clearly developed. Possible
cosmological myth corresponding to Avestic one of
Yima's grove.
1 200-1400 A.D. Ireland. Further Irish development in a
romantic, didactic, and Christian sense of the Elysium
ideal.
1 200-1400 A.D. Scandinavia, Scandinavian romantic
versions of voyage to Elysium.
In considering the foregoing chronological summary, the
disturbing influence exercised by Christianity upon the de-
velopment of Northern and Western Europe must be borne
in mind. A very marked feature in the history of the future-
world conception among Greeks, Indians, and Persians, is
the way in which the idea of hell, absent from the oldest
stratum of texts, gradually assumes such prominence that at
last it completely overshadows the idea of heaven. In
Scandinavia we find a well-developed hell, the economy of
which differs from that of Christian eschatology, and is
apparently akin to that of the Hellenic Tartarus. In the
non-Christian Irish texts there is no hell. But this may be
due to the superior attraction of the competing Christian
accounts of the abode of woe, and to the fact that the
Christian scribes and story-tellers, through whose hands these
tales have come down to us, allowed the descriptions of the
Happy Otherworld to pass with a minimum of Christian
gloss, buc suppressed the non-Christian descriptions of hell
ESCHATOLOGICAL OTHER WORLD 329
in favour of their own more ortliodox account. The Pagan
Elysium was too remote from the stage of development
reached by the Christian heaven in the seventh and eighth
centuries to excite any demur — the Pagan Irish hell, if it ever
existed, may have stood on a different footing. I do not
myself think this explanation likely, but it is possible, and
should be borne in mind as a corrective against undue stress
being laid upon the absence of a hell in pre-Christian Irish
literature.
Apart, however, from this disturbing influence, affecting as
it does two of the Aryan literatures under consideration, the
chronological summary reveals many and perplexing problems.
The apparent retention by Avestic faith of archaic elements
lacking in the Vedas in spite of the far greater antiquity
assigned to the latter; the fact that both Persia and India
ignore certain sides of the Elysium ideal prominent in Greece,
whilst India anticipates, if the received chronology be correct,
other aspects of Hellenic development in the closest manner ;
the relation of Scandinavian to Hellenic and Iranian myth :
elucidation of all these points is beset with difficulty. The
main fact, however, that emerges from study of the non-Irish
Aryan conceptions of the Happy Other\vorld is that they are
chiefly eschatological, in other words that they are framed in
connection with theories of a future life. Even under the form
of a paradisaical golden age. eschatological speculation is
implied in the presentment of this happy realm ; it is because
they are the first to suffer death that sway is assigned to the
patriarchs in the future world, the conditions of which are
reflected back upon their previous mortal existence.
In Greece alone, outside Ireland, do we find the Elysium
ideal disassociated from eschatological belief. Have Irish
and Hellenes alone preserved the first stage of the Happy
330 REINCARNATION
Otherworld conception, that in which it is solely the gods'
land, is altogether unconnected with speculation concerning
the fate of man after he has quitted this life ? That is the
chief problem raised by the Irish texts, and upon its correct
solution depends in a very large measure the correct apprecia-
tion of the evolution of religion among the Ayran races.
Reverting once more to the chronological summary, we
note that the rise of Buddhism supplies the one fixed point
in the haze of Indian religious evolution. But Buddhism was
essentially a revolt against a creed that had reincarnation
for its animating principle and its chief sanction. In Greece
again the transformation of the Homeric Happy Otherworld
into a definite heaven was brought about at a slightly later
date by a like desire to escape the consequences of a creed
based upon reincarnation. This reminds us that in our Irish
group of stories the doctrine of reincarnation is prominent.
Before, then, we can form any definite opinion as to the place
of the Irish mythic tales in the general evolution of Aryan
religion, the doctrine of reincarnation must be examined in the
same way as in the foregoing pages the doctrine of the Happy
Otherworld. Its manifestations in Celtic literature must be
classified and discussed ; their relation to Christian and pre-
Christian Hellenic belief determined. Examination of the
Hellenic instances will compel the widening of our inquiry's
scope. For the origin of the Orphic-Pythagorean doctrines
has been severally ascribed to India, to Babylonia, and to
Egypt. The eschatology of the two latter countries, which
hitherto I have refrained from glancing at, will require the
most careful study, in which some interesting examples of the
Elysium conception must be included. Only after this ex-
tended survey, which must bear at once upon philosophic
doctrine and burial custom, shall we be in a position to form a
REINCARNATION 331
sound opinion respecting this aspect of the Irish mythic creed,
to determine the real nature of the Happy Otherworld pictured
in its texts, to essay a reconstruction of a mythology and a
religion which have come down to us mainly in a romantic
guise. In this task the evidence both of archaeology and of
living folk-lore, which I have excluded from this first section
of my study devoted solely to the manifestation of certain
beliefs and fancies in literature, will have to be carefully
weighed. I have some hopes of bringing this task to a con-
clusion within another year. But if the scanty leisure upon
which I count is denied me, I trust I have indicated the
main outlines of the investigation with sufficient clearness to
allow of its being pursued by some other student.
In the meantime, and reasoning solely from the facts set
forth in the foregoing pages, without prejudice to different
or even entirely contrary results arising from consideration of
the doctrine of reincarnation, it is I think legitimate to
advance the following tentative propositions : The vision of
a Happy Otherworld found in Irish mythic romances of the
eighth and following centuries is substantially pre-Christian ;
it finds its closest analogues in that stage of Hellenic mythic
belief which precedes the modification of Hellenic religion
consequent upon the spread of the Orphic-Pythagorean
doctrines, and with these it forms the most archaic Aryan
presentment of the divine and happy land we possess.
End of Section I.
« «
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I had intended indexing this portion of my study separately, but
have decided to defer indexing until completion of the whole.
Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty
at the Edinburgh University Press
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