The Voyage of Bran, Son of Febal, to the Land of the Living

INTRODUCTION

The old-Irish tale which is here edited and fully translated ^ 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.

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 preserved, 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 perfect, 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 comparing his copy with the original, I found hardly any discrepancies 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 consistently, 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 circumstances 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. Considering 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, represents the actual language of any particular period, containing 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 statements, often leaving a margin of a century on either side.

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 ; comamre, 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, ^ ; frisbein, 16 ; frisseill, 59 ; forosna, 16 ; consna, 5 ; ivinmsthnerchel, 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

(independent !), 8, 36 ; congairet, 7 ; forclechtat, 5 ; foslongat, 4 ; frisferat, 21 ; forsngatret, 7.

Present subjunctive, sg. 3 : trbithad, 30 ; imraad, 60 ; etsed, 29.

S-future, sg. 3 : silis, 55 ; conlee, 51; adfi, 52. Secondary s-fut., sg. 2 : rista, 30.

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.

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 substantive 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 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 exception 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, 'dracontium,' 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 ;

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 undertaken, 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.

andso si's 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 quatrains 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.'

4. ' Fil inis i n-eterchein

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.'

• Zimmer, wrongly, ' vor den gerichten.'

^ Lit. ' with harshness.' Zimmer, ' flir die kehle ' ?

^ i.e. nomen regionis (gloss).

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.

10. ' Cen bron, can duba, cen bds,

11. 'A beauty of a wondrous land,

Whose aspects are lovely, Whose view is a fair country, Incomparable is its haze.

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.'

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.'

12. ' Md ® adcetha ^ Aircthech * far tain

13. 'Moini, diissi each datho "

taircet -*' la ^^ tule don grein, carpait arggait i Maig Mon ^ ocus credumi 22 cen on.

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.'

i6. ' Dofeith ^ la ^ turcbdil ^ n-grene fer find forosna "* rede,^ redid mag find frismbein muir, mescid *■ fairggi co m-bi full.

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.'

** 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.

21. ' Dofeith ^ soire la sldini ^

don tir frisferat gdiri,

22. ' Is M ^ suthaine sine ni frescat 2" aithbe nd ec.

24. ' !6tsecht fri ceul i n-adig,^^

ecus techt i n-Ildathig,l' 22

asa taitni in nel find.

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.

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.

'oe>

28. ' Is he dorigni nime,

29. ' Ni duib uili i" mo labre,2<»

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.

B

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).

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

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.'

40. • Met in maige, Im int sluaig,^**

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.

• i.e. worshipping idols (gloss).

^ i.e. Christ (gloss).

44. ' Fil diin 6 thossuch ^ diile

48. ' Ticfa tessarcon uasal b 30

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 metaphorically in the sense of ' attack, onset.' Cf.

49. ' In delb he ^ nofethi-su rothicfa ^ it' lethe-su, arumthd echtre^ dia tisf' cosin mndi i Linemaig.'"'

50. ' Sech is Moninndn* mac Lir bid cu allaid cech indroiss.

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).

^ 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.

55. ' Biaid tre bithu " siri ^ ''

56. ' Bid 13 imm rigu 1* la i^ fennid i«

57. ' Art arungen - la flaithi,23

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.

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.

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.

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

' Do ^ mace Chollbrain ^ ba mdr bdiss ^ turcbdil* a Idme fri diss, cen ^ nech dobir "^ toind usci glain for Nechtdn for^ mac CoUbrain.'^

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 cetharchubaid 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 ; 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.'

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.

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.), 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 pronominal 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.

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.

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,
42. dttilli CO n-ordath. Cf. the following quatrain in the description of Mag Meld quoted above :

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,
50. 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.

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.

57. arimghu This I take to be the ist sg. of the red. future of arginu, with infixed pron. of the 3rd person.

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.'

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 Moylinny. At the time he went there were not many in the stronghold. 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.

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.

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-

Anit etir. Cich ^ in ben aithirruch. * Nd, cii, a ben ! Asae * fer dotha;t diar cobair indosso, adhaim'' a chossa hi Mdin.'^

aa'^. ^ ba he do«o inti yiongan .i. Find va.ac Cnmaill acht na legi a fomdi [j?V] ^.

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

woman was sorrowful. The tear was not taken from her cheek. Mongdn told her not to be sorrowful, help would certainly 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.

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.

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.

' Is buan 20 hull hi fola luimne, inna drechtu imm druimne.'n

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.

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. Mongdn 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, otherwise 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.

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.

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 Mongdin 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.

■• Diarmait, the son of Cerball or Ccrrbcl, became king of Ireland

A.D. 539 ( I''. M)-

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.

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 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. ' Dobersa 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 tancamair-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.

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 cindeamhain, 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 cubhaidh' (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.

marbadh Fiachna Dubh leo. Ro gabh Mongan rfghi n-Uladh 7 is e deirchin do bi a[g] denum an braith .i. Manannan morchumachtach.

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 adchoHnairc 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'

^ a.dnheri. ^ dtil. ^ iarraigh. ■* 'Eih.ac/i. ° lcv;dh. •' cubhaigh. ' iaraigh. ** iaraigh. ^ mhoigh.

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 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 atchonncadar 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 adconncadar 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 soiscela 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 nagaid 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 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 grian^ 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 chailleac/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 Mhongdin,' 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 bhiialadh 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

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 Mong^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.

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.

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

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 tangatar 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-

[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 adubert : ' 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.' Adbert 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;;.

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 Connacht.' 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 was not long there, when a disease seized the king of Lochlann, 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 province 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 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 warlike 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 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 reigning 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.

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 provincial 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.

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.

' 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 ?

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.

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 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.

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 packsaddle 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 lapdog, 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

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 Connaught 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.

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 drinkinghorn 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 :

Land Chliiana Airthir indfu, amra in cethrar forsrfadad : Cormac Cdem fri imfochid,i ocus Illand mac Fiachach.2

Ocus 3 in dfas ele 5

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

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

' 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 seisedach (scdradhach). Tonn Clidna (Toun Cleena) is a loud surge in the bay of Glandore, co. Cork. See its dinnshenchas, Rev. 30

Celt. XV. p. 437. Tracht Eothaili (Trawohelly) is on the coast of Sligo.

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.

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,

' 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

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.

From Ms. Laud 615, p. 21. Mura cecinit.

' Coinne Mongain is Coluim caim maic Feidlimthe an ardnaoim 5

De dardain tainic gan mairg

Mongan co Carruic Eolairg 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.

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,

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.

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.

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 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

^ 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.

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.'

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.

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 Christian, 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,

Zimmer, LU. The reference is to Keltische Studicn V. : Ucbcr 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

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 hnguistic 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

CONTENTS III

CHAPTER III

THE CONCEPTION OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN PARALLEL TALES OF A MYTHIC CHARACTER

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. Brendan!— The Voyage of Maelduin — 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 ; {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 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 — Laegaire 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

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?inshcnchas 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

CHAPTER IX

THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD IN IRISH LEGEND

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 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 (ircek l)clief— Serlorius and St. Brandan — Horace— Clauili.in—'iiie

H

114 THE HAPPY OTHERWORLD

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, development, 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-

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 historical 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 definitely 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 compilation 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.

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 contain the pre-Christian mythology of the Irish, cast in a pseudohistoric 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,/<?rtissinms 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.

the earliest, assuming the correctness of the annalistic chronology, 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 preservation, not only of small episodes, but of well-defined cycles, by the folk-memory, is of frequent occurrence. Another 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 province 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 extensive 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 Highlands, 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.

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 henceforth 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-

■* 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 commented 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.

•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 Christianised 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.

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 Manistrech (+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 Voyage,' 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 language 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., ' 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 before 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 assured. 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 conceivably 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. Conversely, 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 investigation. 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 remarkable 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.

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 community 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 Branwen, 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.

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 witnesses 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.

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 antedating 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 accurately 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 — Historical 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 Otherworld 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, 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 inheritance 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.

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 compelled 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 eleventhcenturv 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 century, 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 marvellously 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 precise 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 entitled 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-

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 represent a later interpolation, and is it not unfair to draw conclusions 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 independent 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 investigation, 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.

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 intelligence 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 circumstances 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.

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 agreement ; 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. However rapid the progress of Christianity in Ireland may have been, however lukewarm, comparatively speaking, the resistance of the pre-Christian beliefs, still some resistance, some conflict there must have been, and there are not wanting signs that both were prolonged well on into the seventh century. 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, provisionally, assign his work.

If the story of Bran had come down to us as the sole representative 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 popularity and plastic vitality until the last century ; moreover, both of its leading conceptions — that of the Happy Otherworld 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 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 Hundredfighter, 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, 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, himself 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-

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 decidedly 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 anything 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 supplement 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 difference 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 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.

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 development. 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.

.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 swiftness 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 homefaring 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 understood 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 supernatural 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 exemplify 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.

.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 Cuchulinn.' 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 conceived 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 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.

• 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.

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 mentioned, 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 Scandinavian 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 Otherworld, 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-

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 difference 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 anything 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 imagination 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 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 opening 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.

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 underor 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 injunction brings its punishment, and it is only after long wanderings, 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 companions touch is large, and on it a great tableland, heatherless, 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 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 seafarers, 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 adventures. 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 desired 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 inclusion in one narrative of variant forms of the same episode need not surprise us. That successive story-tellers, or transcribers, should adopt this device to increase the extent, and, in the opinion of former days, the value of their wares, is consonant 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 continuators, 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

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 Otherworld.

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 conception) 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 considerations. 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.

of Manannan, figured as the rider of the glistening seahorses.^

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 seafarers 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 feasting 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 wailing. An unlucky lot falls upon one of Maelduin's two fosterbrothers 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 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 connection 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 Voyage 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 noteworthy 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 therefore 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 comparison of certain features in this portion of Maelduin with the Scandinavian story of Thorkill's journey to the Otherworld.

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

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 resemblances, the differences are equally marked. Before discussing 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 discordant versions made in the early eleventh century. Linguistically 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 wonderland 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-ending 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 Otherworld 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.

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 malevolent 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 inconsistency involved, for whilst in the descriptions of the oversea Elysium the absence of strife and contention, of death and

' Pp. 274 ei seq. M

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. Assuming 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 conventional 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.

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 background 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 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 fivefold crimson mantle, in his hand two five-barbed darts, a goldrimmed 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.]

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, i82 LAEGAIRE MAC CRIMTHAINN

' your king is fallen, your chiefs are slain,' says he, and he promises 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,

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, according 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 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, comparison 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 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 version. 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, 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 prophecy 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 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 pursued, 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.

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 inhabitants 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. Refine and embellish as the twelfth or thirteenth-century storyteller 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.

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 considerably 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 fourteenth 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, preserved 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 information. 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 Ciabhan, 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.

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. ), reprinted (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.

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 Otherworld and the inmates thereof. The substance of this dinnshenchas is found in the Book of Leinster in a comparatively speaking lengthy poem, attributed to a bard of the name of Maile ; later mss. give it briefly in prose as follows : ^

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, 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 Everliving 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 conception 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.

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 examination. 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 treetops 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.

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 commends 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 perpetual 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 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 Fairhead 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 sadness nor grief shall afflict them. Cleena also gives them a fair cup of emerald hue, if water be poured into it incontinently it is wine. Other gifts and counsels she imparts, and leading them to their boat bids tlicm farewell, asking 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 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, seventeenth, 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 dintishenchas 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

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 properly 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 tradition on Gaelic soil.

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 intermingled 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.

This account it will be noticed agrees with that of the oversea 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 headship 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 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. Whereupon 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 hospitaller'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 correcting 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.

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 Moagdeda, 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 adoration 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 : ^

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.

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 presentment 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.

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 according 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. Howbeit, 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 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 delightfulness. 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 magnifying 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 countenance 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 flambeaux 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, without 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.'

A certain community of style and literary method between the writer of these passages and the previously cited descriptions 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 descriptions 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 Doomsday.^ 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

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 tenderness, 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 without 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 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 intoxicating 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 farreaching. 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

'^ 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.

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 Wurzburg 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 : inadequacy 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 mythicoromantic literature. Starting with texts that approve themselves on linguistic and historical grounds to belong substantially 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 inhabitants may and do summon mortals thither, alluring them by the magic music of the fairy branches of its trees, or by

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 wonderland 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 disconnectedly in it. The imrama derive from the Oversea type, and carry on the Christianising process begun in Bran and

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 transforming 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 wonderland ; 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 intensified, but so is also the connection with water, an underinstead 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 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 Adventures, 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.

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 something 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 birdflock 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 distinguished 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 elements, 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 preceding 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 wellknown 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 :

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 Manannan'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.^

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 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 : —

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.

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.

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 traditional 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.

surmise is to beget doubt in it ; but we must carry "the investigation 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 proficient 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.

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 and flowers of all sorts. The height of the trees' was after the manner of a cypress, and the leaves of them sang without 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.

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 temperate 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.)

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 conceptions 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 differences 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 Otherworld, 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 connection 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 : righteousness 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.

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 prominence 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 conceived 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.

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 Otherworld 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 prehistoric 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, conceived 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 pasture land of horses, but the deathless gods will convey thee to the Elysian plain and the world's end, where is Rhadamanthus 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 exceeding 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 definately associated with mountains. The Greeks localised their seat of the gods on Olympus, and Homer uses in portraying 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.

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 exceptional 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 interpolated 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 possibility 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 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 worshipped 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 translated.'

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, preeminent 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, deathlessness. 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.

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 Babylonian myths.

Rohde's Views Discussed.

So for the German scholar. His account of the development 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 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 connected 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 obtained 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 development 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 masterpieces 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.

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 originally to Oriental influence, do not, to my mind, justify such farreaching 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 influence 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 importation 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-, ministers 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 uncertain 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 literature, 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.

thinkers in the elaboration of an ethical scheme of the Hereafter, 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 transported 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

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 materialistic 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 Hyperboreans 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 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 halfcontemptuous 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 conceived 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 Otherworld 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 Professor 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 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 definiteness in assigning a locality to it. Indeed, it may be doubted if, among the Greeks, the Happy Otherworld underground be not really as old as the oversea ideal. Rohde has collected (104 ct seq.) instances of what he calls 'Bergentriickung,' 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 significant. 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 celebration 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 penetrate 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 deliverance 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.

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 character, 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 blameless 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 heroworld 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 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 chanting 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, immediately 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 partake 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, 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 provided. . . .' 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 apocalyptic 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 exemplified in Celtic myth and romance. For the present I am content to show that in its presentment of the Otherworld, 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 conception. 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 amorous 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 synthesis 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 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 conception. 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 ..."

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 penetrated 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, humanitarian 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, without 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 the pruning-hook.' It is unnecessary to cite further so wellknown 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 kindness and of mercy.' The beatific vision is closed by a philosophy 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 literature, 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 investigation? Let us recollect that Ireland, unlike Gaul or Germany or Britain, lies outside Roman influence until the thirdfourth 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 centuries 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 originate that which is archaic in tone of manners, and deficient in any religious or philosophic intent. Let me again assume a mythological tabula rasa in third-sixth century Ireland. 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 philosophic and ethical ideals, had become in its way as definitely ' religious ' as the Christian belief. If any one writer of antiquity 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 ; reservation 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 ; insistence 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 Otherworld, 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 Otherworld 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 philosophicoreligious 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.

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 marrying 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 regarded 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 waiting 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, noteworthy that in one story {Baile an Scail), part of which has a very archaic aspect, Lug, the Irish sun-god, is lord of the Otherworld ; 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 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 sungod 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 overlooking 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 Otherworld 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 modification 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 preserved 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 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 conceptions. 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.

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.

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 household. 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 punishment 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.

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, stretching 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.

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 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 Otherworld 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 corruption, 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 Universe. 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.

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 expressions 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 semidemoniac nature of its inmates, are far more prominent features than are the joys and delights of their realm. Again, whilst in 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 disease 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 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 Darmestetcr. 3 vols. Paris, 1892-93.

• Avesta, ii. 16 et seq. Cf. Rydberg, sect. 54.

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 interpretation 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.

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 Vendidad 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.

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 reconstituted 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.

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 canonification of the Avestic text, justifies a priori hypotheses of possible foreign influence both Greek and Jewish. M, Darmesteter boldly translates, first, possibility into probability, and then, probability into certainty. For him the elaborate cosmology 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 reconstituted, 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 conclusions. 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 distinguished 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 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 elaborately 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.

3i6 VEDIC MYTH

Consideration of what Sanskrit mythic Hterature says concerning 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 Rydberg'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 comparatively recent date for the Aryan conquest of Iran, and a considerable 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, 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 petrifaction 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 evolution. 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 evidence 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 cannot 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 chronological 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 language, for modifications of doctrine, for the budding, blossoming and decay of new religious and philosophical movements. We know nothing concerning the possible contemporaneous 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 — conceptions, 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 recognising 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 invokes 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 threefold 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 sacrifice. 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 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 agricultural 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.

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 transported into the realms of light, a land flowing with inexhaustible 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 assimilates 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 progenitor 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.

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 Otherworld 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 civilisation, 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 Scandinavian 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 husband.' 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 content with working up the Elysium ideal into a paradisaical golden age (Yama's realm in its hypothetical original signification 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.

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 rolling down pearls and jewels instead of pebbles.' ^ The conquests of Alexander brought these legends to the knowledge of the Greeks. Amometos wrote a novel about the Attacoren, 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 profitably 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 conception among the Indo-Germanic races. It will be convenient to arrange the indications yielded us by literature chronologically, 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 developing 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 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 elaboration of hell.

1-500 A.D. Hellenistic Christian Period. Transformation 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 development 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 development of Northern and Western Europe must be borne in mind. A very marked feature in the history of the futureworld 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 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 appreciation 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 extended survey, which must bear at once upon philosophic doctrine and burial custom, shall we be in a position to form a 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 conclusion 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.