Skip to main content

Full text of "The voyage of Bran, son of Febal, to the land of the living : an old Irish saga"

See other formats


m 

loo  ! 

CVJ 

'00 

CO 

;t~ 

i'-  '■ . 

iS 

•o 

-T~ 

&;■'• 

ft 

Ico 

iif. 

'      ( 

<v-. 

i^ 


^iiif 


a^ 


\ 


No.  4. 
THE    VOYAGE    OF    BRAN 


fe 


n^ 


(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. 


«  « 

» 


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 


v-^^ 


'  ^     6 


la-ri^  r  2  7y^^        .2.7^ 


/^Li 


X^O^j