Roscommon]

After the meal they set up their tents, and each man prepared his bed.

He first put down a thick layer of brushwood from the surrounding forest; on that he spread a quant.i.ty of moss; and on that again a layer of fresh rushes, on which he slept soundly after his day of joyous, healthful toil. In the old tales these three materials--brushwood, moss, and rushes--are called the "Three beddings of the Fena."[95-1]

[95-1] The above account of how the Fena hunted, cooked, ate, and slept is from Keating, who took it from old Irish books.

The Fena were in the service of the kings, and their main duties were to uphold justice and put down oppression and wrong, to suppress robbers and other evil-doers, to exact fines and tributes for the king, and to guard the harbours of the country against pirates and invaders. For these services they received a fixed pay: during the six months hunting season, their pay was merely the animals they killed, of which they used the flesh for food and sold the skins.

An Irish poet of our day has written of the Milesian people in general, including those Fena of Erin and the Red Branch Knights:--

"Long, long ago, beyond the misty s.p.a.ce Of twice a thousand years, In Erin old there dwelt a mighty race Taller than Roman spears; Like oaks and towers they had a giant grace, Were fleet as deers, With winds and wave they made their biding place, Those western shepherd seers.

Great were their deeds, their pa.s.sions, and their sports.

With clay and stone, They piled on strath and sh.o.r.e those mystic forts, Not yet o'erthrown: On cairn-crowned hills they held their council-courts; While youths alone, With giant dogs explored the elk resorts And brought them down."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cairn, on Carns Hill near Sligo: a "cairn-crowned hill."]

In many modern stories, Finn is spoken of as a giant; but this is a vulgar notion. The old romantic tales describe him as a tall, strong man, though not a giant; with much keen wit, sound sense, and great judgment: and though he was a mighty champion, he ruled his men more by wisdom, kindness, and justice, than by strength. When quite a young man his hair became white like silver: how this happened will be told in the next story. Oisin [Isheen] or Ossian, the renowned hero-poet of the Fena, was his son. Oscar the son of Ossian was youthful, comely, kind-hearted, and valiant. Dermot O'Dyna was the handsomest of all these heroes. He was unconquerably brave, of untarnished honour, generous, and self-denying, ever ready to take the post of danger, always giving credit to others, and never in the least boasting of his own deeds. He is the finest character of all the Fena; and it would be hard to find his equal in the ancient tales of any country. We have a vast number of beautiful stories in the Irish language about Finn and the other heroes of the Fena, a few of which are translated in this book.

XXII.

THE CHASE OF SLIEVE CULLINN.

IN WHICH OSSIAN RELATES HOW FINN'S HAIR WAS CHANGED IN ONE DAY FROM THE COLOUR OF GOLD TO SILVERY GREY.

On a morning in summer, Finn happened to be walking alone on the lawn before the palace of Allen, when a doe sprang out from a thicket, and, pa.s.sing quite close to him, bounded past like the wind. Without a moment's delay, he signalled for his companions and dogs; but none heard except his two hounds, Bran and Skolan. He instantly gave chase, accompanied only by his two dogs; and before the Fena knew of his absence, he had left Allen of the green slopes far behind.

The chase turned northwards; and though the hounds kept close to the doe, the chief kept quite as close to the hounds the whole way. And so they continued without rest or pause, till they reached Slieve Cullinn, far in the north.

Here the doe made a sudden turn and disappeared; and Finn never caught sight of her after. And he marvelled much that any doe in the world should be able to lead Bran and Skolan so long a chase, and escape from them in the end. Meantime they kept searching, Finn taking one side of the hill and the dogs another, so that he was at last left quite alone.

While he was wandering about the hill and whistling for his hounds, he heard the plaintive cry of a woman at no great distance; and, turning his steps towards the place, he saw a beautiful young lady sitting on the brink of a little lake, weeping as if her heart would break. Finn accosted her; and, seeing that she ceased her weeping for a moment, he asked her had she seen his two hounds pa.s.s that way.

"I have not seen thy hounds," she replied, "nor have I been at all concerned in the chase; for, alas, there is something that troubles me more nearly. I had a precious gold bracelet on my hand, which I prized beyond anything in the world; and it has fallen from me into the water.

I saw it roll down the steep slope at the bottom, till it went quite out of my sight. This is the cause of my sorrow, and thou canst remedy the mishap if thou wilt. The Fena are sworn never to refuse help to a woman in distress; and I now put it on thee to search for this bracelet, and cease not till thou find it and restore it to me."

Finn plunged in without a moment's hesitation; and after swimming three times round the lake, diving and searching into every nook and cranny at the bottom, he found the bracelet at last; and approaching the lady, he handed it to her from the water. The moment she had got it she sprang into the lake before his eyes, and, diving down, disappeared in an instant.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Irish bracelet or armlet of solid gold, now in the National Museum, Dublin. It is double the size of the picture, of beautiful shape and workmanship, and weighs 3-3/4 oz.]

The chief, wondering greatly at this strange behaviour, stepped forth from the water; but as soon as his feet had touched the dry land, he lost all his strength, and fell on the brink, a withered, grey old man, shrunken up and trembling all over with weakness. He sat him down in woful plight; and soon his hounds came up. They looked at him wistfully and sniffed and whined around him; but they knew him not, and, pa.s.sing on, they ran round the lake, searching in vain for their master.

On that day we and the Fena in general were a.s.sembled in the banquet hall of the palace of Allen; some feasting, some playing chess, and others listening to the sweet music of the harpers. While all were in this wise pleasantly engaged, we suddenly missed our chief, and when we searched for him he was nowhere to be found: whereupon we became alarmed. Inquiring now from the lesser people about the palace, we found that the chief and his two dogs had chased a doe northwards. So, having mustered a strong party of the Fena, we started in pursuit, and following the track, never slackened speed till we reached Slieve Cullinn.

We began to search round the hill, and after wandering among brakes and rough, rocky places, we at last espied a grey-headed old man sitting on the brink of a lake. I went up to him, followed by the rest of the Fena, and asked him if he had seen a n.o.ble-looking hero pa.s.s that way, with two hounds, chasing a doe. He never answered a word, neither did he stir from where he sat, or even look up; but at the question, his head sank on his breast, and his limbs shook all over as with palsy. Then he fell into a sudden fit of grief, wringing his hands and uttering feeble cries of woe.

We soothed him and used him gently, hoping he might speak at last; but to no purpose, for he only lamented the more, and still answered nothing.

At last, after this had gone on for some time, and when we were about to leave him, he told us in a whisper the dreadful secret; and then we all came to know the truth. When we found that the withered old man was no other than our beloved king, Finn himself, we uttered three shouts of lamentation and anger, so loud and prolonged that the foxes and badgers rushed affrighted from their dens in the hollows of the mountain.

When quietness was restored, we asked Finn how this dread evil had befallen him; and he told us that it was the daughter of Culann the smith who had transformed him by her spells. And then he recounted how she had lured him to swim in the lake, and how, when he came forth, he was turned into a withered old man.

We now made a framework litter of slender poles, and, placing our king on it, we lifted him tenderly on our shoulders. And, turning from the lake, we marched slowly up-hill till we came to the fairy palace of Slieve Cullinn, where we knew the daughter of Culann had her dwelling deep under ground. Here we set him down, and the whole troop began at once to dig, determined to find the enchantress in her cave-palace, and force her to restore our chief.

For three days and three nights we dug, without a moment's rest or pause, till at length we reached her hollow dwelling; when she, affrighted at the tumult and at the vengeful look of the heroes, suddenly started forth from the cave and stood before us. She held in her hand a drinking-horn of red gold, which she handed to the king and told him to drink. No sooner had he drunk from it, than his own shape and features returned, save only that his hair remained of a silvery grey.

When we gazed on our chief in his own graceful and manly form, we were all pleased with the soft, silvery hue of the grey hairs. And, though the enchantress appeared ready to restore this also, Finn himself told her that it pleased him as it pleased the others, and that he chose to remain grey for the rest of his life.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ancient Irish bracelet for the wrist. This is of bronze; but many Irish bracelets were of gold, like that shown at page 100.]

XXIII.

SAINT BRIGIT: PART I.

Of all the Irish saints, Brigit and Columkille are, next after St.

Patrick, the most loved and revered by the people of Ireland.

Like many others of our early saints, Brigit came of a n.o.ble family. Her father Dubthach [Duffa] was a distinguished Leinster chief, descended from the kings of Ireland. For some reason, which we do not know, he and his wife lived for a time in Faughart near Dundalk, which was then a part of Ulster: and at Faughart Brigit was born about the year 455. The family must have soon returned however to their own district, for we know that Brigit pa.s.sed her childhood with her parents in the neighbourhood of Kildare. She was baptised, and carefully instructed and trained, both in general education and in religion: for her father and mother were Christians. As she grew up, her quiet, gentle, modest ways pleased all that knew her. At the time of her birth, St. Patrick was in the midst of his glorious career; and some say that while she was still a child she knew him, and that when he died she made with her own hands a winding sheet in which his body was laid in the grave; which may have happened, as she was ten or twelve years of age at the time of his death.

When Brigit came of an age to choose her way of life, she resolved to be a nun, to which her parents made no objection. After due preparation she went to a holy bishop of the neighbourhood, who, at her request, received her, and placed a white robe on her shoulders and a white veil over her head. Here she remained for some time in companionship with eight other maidens who had been received with her, and who placed themselves under her guidance. As time went on, she became so beloved for her piety and sweetness of disposition, that many young women asked to be admitted; so that though she by no means desired that people should be speaking in her praise, the fame of her little community began to spread through the country.

This first establishment was conducted strictly under a set of Rules drawn up by Brigit herself: and now, bishops in various parts of Ireland began to apply to her to establish convents in their several districts under the same rules. She was glad of this, and she did what she could to meet their wishes. She visited Longford, Tipperary, Limerick, South Leinster, and Roscommon, one after another; and in all these places she founded convents.

At last the people of her own province of Leinster, considering that they had the best right to her services, sent a number of leading persons to request that she would fix her permanent residence among them. She was probably pleased to go back to live in the place where she had spent her childhood; and she returned to Leinster, where she was welcomed with great joy. The Leinster people gave her a piece of land chosen by herself, on the edge of a beautiful level gra.s.sy plain, well known as the Curragh of Kildare. Here, on a low ridge over-looking the plain, she built a little church, under the shade of a wide-spreading oak tree, whence it got the name of Kill-dara, the Church of the Oak, or as we now call it, Kildare. This tree continued to flourish long after Brigit's death, and it was regarded with great veneration by the people of the place. A writer of the tenth century--four hundred years after the foundation of the church--tells us that in his time it was a mere branchless, withered trunk; but the people had such reverence for it that no one dared to cut or chip it.

We are not quite sure of the exact year of Brigit's settlement here; but it probably occurred about 485, when she was thirty years of age. Hard by the church she also built a dwelling for herself and her community.

We are told, in the Irish Life of St. Brigit, that this first house was built of wood, like the houses of the people in general: and the little church under the oak was probably of wood also, like most churches of the time. As the number of applicants for admission continued to increase, both church and dwelling had to be enlarged from time to time; and the wood was replaced by stone and mortar. Such was the respect in which the good abbess was held, that visitors came from all parts of the country to see her and ask her advice and blessing: and many of them settled down in the place, so that a town gradually grew up near the convent, which was the beginning of the town of Kildare.

XXIV.

SAINT BRIGIT: PART II.

Brigit, although now at the head of a great community, and very strict in carrying out her Rules, still retained all her humility and gentleness of disposition. With such a large family, there was plenty of work to do; and it was all done by the nuns, as they kept no servants and called in no outsiders. The abbess herself, so far as she was able to withdraw from the cares of governing the establishment, took her part like the rest in most of the domestic occupations. In some of the old accounts of her life we are told that she often, with some companions, herded and tended her flocks of sheep that grazed on the level sward round the convent. And sometimes she was caught by the heavy rain-squalls that occasionally sweep across that shelterless plain, so that her clothes were wet through by the time she returned to the convent: showing that she took her own share of the rough work.

Not far from the convent, another establishment was founded, later on, for men, which afterwards became one of the great Colleges of Ireland.