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Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A. Gregory

L >> Lady I. A. Gregory >> Gods and Fighting Men




But there was great anger on Midhir and his people because of their hill
being attacked and dug into. And it was in revenge for that insult they
brought Conaire, High King of Ireland, that was grandson of Eochaid and
of Etain, to his death afterwards at Da Derga's Inn.




CHAPTER VIII. MANANNAN


Now as to Manannan the Proud, son of Lir, after he had made places for
the rest of the Tuatha de Danaan to live in, he went away out of Ireland
himself. And some said he was dead, and that he got his death by Uillenn
Faebarderg, of the Red Edge, in battle. And it is what they said, that
the battle was fought at Magh Cuilenn, and that Manannan was buried
standing on his feet, and no sooner was he buried than a great lake
burst up under his feet in the place that was a red bog till that time.
And the lake got the name of Loch Orbson, from one of the names of
Manannan. And it was said that red Badb was glad and many women were
sorry at that battle.

But he had many places of living, and he was often heard of in Ireland
after. It was he sent a messenger to Etain, mother of Conaire the High
King, the time she was hidden in the cowherd's house. And it was he
brought up Deirdre's children in Emhain of the Apple Trees, and it was
said of that place, "a house of peace is the hill of the Sidhe of
Emhain." And it was he taught Diarmuid of the Fianna the use of weapons,
and it was he taught Cuchulain the use of the Gae Bulg, and some say it
was he was Deirdre's father, and that he brought Conchubar, king of
Ulster, to the place she was hidden, and he running with the appearance
of a hare before the hounds of the men of Ulster to bring them there.

And it is what they say, that the time Conchubar had brought the sons of
Usnach to Emain Macha, and could not come at them to kill them because
of their bravery, it was to Manannan he went for help. And Manannan said
he would give him no help, for he had told him at the time he brought
Deirdre away that she would be the cause of the breaking up of his
kingdom, and he took her away in spite of him. But Conchubar asked him
to put blindness for a while on the sons of Usnach, or the whole army
would be destroyed with their blows. So after a while he consented to
that. And when the sons of Usnach came out again against the army of
Ulster, the blindness came on them, and it was at one another they
struck, not seeing who was near them, and it was by one another's hands
they fell. But more say Manannan had no hand in it, and that it was
Cathbad, the Druid, put a sea about them and brought them to their death
by his enchantments.

And some say Culain, the Smith, that gave his name to Cuchulain
afterwards, was Manannan himself, for he had many shapes.

Anyway, before Culain came to Ulster, he was living in the Island of
Falga, that was one of Manannan's places. And one time before Conchubar
came into the kingdom, he went to ask advice of a Druid, and the Druid
bade him to go to the Island of Falga and to ask Culain, the smith he
would find there, to make arms for him. So Conchubar did so, and the
smith promised to make a sword and spear and shield for him.

And while he was working at them Conchubar went out one morning early to
walk on the strand, and there he saw a sea-woman asleep on the shore.
And he put bonds on her in her sleep, the way she would not make her
escape. But when she awoke and saw what had happened, she asked him to
set her free. "And I am Tiabhal," she said, "one of the queens of the
sea. And bid Culain," she said, "that is making your shield for you, to
put my likeness on it and my name about it. And whenever you will go
into a battle with that shield the strength of your enemies will lessen,
and your own strength and the strength of your people will increase."

So Conchubar let her go, and bade the smith do as she had told him. And
when he went back to Ireland he got the victory wherever he brought that
shield.

And he sent for Culain then, and offered him a place on the plains of
Muirthemne. And whether he was or was not Manannan, it is likely he gave
Cuchulain good teaching the time he stopped with him there after killing
his great dog.

Manannan had good hounds one time, but they went hunting after a pig
that was destroying the whole country, and making a desert of it. And
they followed it till they came to a lake, and there it turned on them,
and no hound of them escaped alive, but they were all drowned or maimed.
And the pig made for an island then, that got the name of Muc-inis, the
Pigs Island afterwards; and the lake got the name of Loch Conn, the
Lake of the Hounds.

And it was through Manannan the wave of Tuaig, one of the three great
waves of Ireland, got its name, and this is the way that happened.

There was a young girl of the name of Tuag, a fosterling of Conaire the
High King, was reared in Teamhair, and a great company of the daughters
of the kings of Ireland were put about her to protect her, the way she
would be kept for a king's asking. But Manannan sent Fer Ferdiad, of the
Tuatha de Danaan, that was a pupil of his own and a Druid, in the shape
of a woman of his own household, and he went where Tuag was, and sang a
sleep-spell over her, and brought her away to Inver Glas. And there he
laid her down while he went looking for a boat, that he might bring her
away in her sleep to the Land of the Ever-Living Women. But a wave of
the flood-tide came over the girl, and she was drowned, and Manannan
killed Fer Ferdiad in his anger.

And one time Manannan's cows came up out of the sea at Baile Cronin,
three of them, a red, and a white, and a black, and the people that were
there saw them standing on the strand for a while, as if thinking, and
then they all walked up together, side by side, from the strand. And at
that time there were no roads in Ireland, and there was great wonder on
the people when they saw a good wide road ready before the three cows to
walk on. And when they got about a mile from the sea they parted; the
white cow went to the north-west, towards Luimnech, and the red cow went
to the south-west, and on round the coast of Ireland, and the black cow
went to the north-east, towards Lis Mor, in the district of Portlairge,
and a road opened before each of them, that is to be seen to this day.

And some say it was Manannan went to Finn and the Fianna in the form of
the Gilla Decair, the Bad Servant, and brought them away to
Land-under-Wave. Anyway, he used often to go hunting with them on Cnoc
Aine, and sometimes he came to their help.




CHAPTER IX. MANANNAN AT PLAY


And it was he went playing tricks through Ireland a long time after that
again, the time he got the name of O'Donnell's Kern. And it is the way
it happened, Aodh Dubh O'Donnell was holding a feast one time in
Bel-atha Senaig, and his people were boasting of the goodness of his
house and of his musicians.

And while they were talking, they saw a clown coming towards them, old
striped clothes he had, and puddle water splashing in his shoes, and his
sword sticking out naked behind him, and his ears through the old cloak
that was over his head, and in his hand he had three spears of hollywood
scorched and blackened.

He wished O'Donnell good health, and O'Donnell did the same to him, and
asked where did he come from. "It is where I am," he said, "I slept last
night at Dun Monaidhe, of the King of Alban; I am a day in Ile, a day in
Cionn-tire, a day in Rachlainn, a day in the Watchman's Seat in Slieve
Fuad; a pleasant, rambling, wandering man I am, and it is with yourself
I am now, O'Donnell," he said. "Let the gate-keeper be brought to me,"
said O'Donnell. And when the gate-keeper came, he asked was it he let in
this man, and the gate-keeper said he did not, and that he never saw him
before. "Let him off, O'Donnell," said the stranger, "for it was as easy
for me to come in, as it will be to me to go out again." There was
wonder on them all then, any man to have come into the house without
passing the gate.

The musicians began playing their music then, and all the best musicians
of the country were there at the time, and they played very sweet tunes
on their harps. But the strange man called out: "By my word, O'Donnell,
there was never a noise of hammers beating on iron in any bad place was
so bad to listen to as this noise your people are making."

With that he took a harp, and he made music that would put women in
their pains and wounded men after a battle into a sweet sleep, and it is
what O'Donnell said: "Since I first heard talk of the music of the Sidhe
that is played in the hills and under the earth below us, I never heard
better music than your own. And it is a very sweet player you are," he
said. "One day I am sweet, another day I am sour," said the clown.

Then O'Donnell bade his people to bring him up to sit near himself. "I
have no mind to do that," he said; "I would sooner be as I am, an ugly
clown, making sport for high-up people." Then O'Donnell sent him down
clothes, a hat and a striped shirt and a coat, but he would not have
them. "I have no mind," he said, "to let high-up people be making a
boast of giving them to me."

They were afraid then he might go from them, and they put twenty armed
horsemen and twenty men on foot to hold him back from leaving the house,
and as many more outside at the gate, for they knew him not to be a man
of this world. "What are these men for?" said he. "They are to keep you
here," said O'Donnell. "By my word, it is not with you I will be eating
my supper to-morrow," he said, "but at Cnoc Aine, where Seaghan, Son of
the Earl is, in Desmumain." "If I find you giving one stir out of
yourself, between this and morning, I will knock you into a round lump
there on the ground," said O'Donnell.

But at that the stranger took up the harp again, and he made the same
sweet music as before. And when they were all listening to him, he
called out to the men outside: "Here I am coming, and watch me well now
or you will lose me." When the men that were watching the gate heard
that, they lifted up their axes to strike at him, but in their haste it
was at one another they struck, till they were all lying stretched in
blood. Then the clown said to the gate-keeper: "Let you ask twenty cows
and a hundred of free land of O'Donnell as a fee for bringing his people
back to life. And take this herb," he said, "and rub it in the mouth of
each man of them, and he will rise up whole and well again." So the
gate-keeper did that, and he got the cows and the land from O'Donnell,
and he brought all the people to life again.

Now at that time Seaghan, Son of the Earl, was holding a gathering on
the green in front of his dun, and he saw the same man coming towards
him, and dressed in the same way, and the water splashing in his shoes.
But when he asked who was he, he gave himself the name of a very learned
man, Duartane O'Duartane, and he said it was by Ess Ruadh he was come,
and by Ceiscorainn and from that to Corrslieve, and to Magh Lorg of the
Dagda, and into the district of Hy'Conaill Gabhra, "till I came to
yourself," he said, "by Cruachan of Magh Ai." So they brought him into
the house, and gave him wine for drinking and water for washing his
feet, and he slept till the rising of the sun on the morrow. And at that
time Seaghan, Son of the Earl, came to visit him, and he said: "It is a
long sleep you had, and there is no wonder in that, and your journey so
long yesterday. But I often heard of your learning in books and of your
skill on the harp, and I would like to hear you this morning," he said.
"I am good in those arts indeed," said the stranger. So they brought him
a book, but he could not read a word of it, and then they brought him a
harp, and he could not play any tune. "It is likely your reading and
your music are gone from you," said Seaghan; and he made a little rann
on him, saying it was a strange thing Duartane O'Duartane that had such
a great name not to be able to read a line of a book, or even to
remember one. But when the stranger heard how he was being mocked at, he
took up the book, and read from the top to the bottom of the page very
well and in a sweet-sounding voice. And after that he took the harp and
played and sang the same way he did at O'Donnell's house the day before.
"It is a very sweet man of learning you are," said Seaghan. "One day I
am sweet, another day I am sour," said the stranger.

They walked out together then on Cnoc Aine, but while they were talking
there, the stranger was gone all of a minute, and Seaghan, Son of the
Earl, could not see where he went.

And after that he went on, and he reached Sligach just at the time
O'Conchubar was setting out with the men of Connacht to avenge the
Connacht hag's basket on the hag of Munster. And this time he gave
himself the name of the Gilla Decair, the Bad Servant. And he joined
with the men of Connacht, and they went over the Sionnan westward into
Munster, and there they hunted and drove every creature that could be
made travel, cattle and horses and flocks, into one place, till they got
the hornless bull of the Munster hag and her two speckled cows, and
O'Conchubar brought them away to give to the Connacht hag in
satisfaction for her basket.

But the men of Munster made an attack on them as they were going back;
and the Gilla Decair asked O'Conchubar would he sooner have the cows
driven, or have the Munster men checked, and he said he would sooner
have the Munster men checked. So the Gilla Decair turned on them, and
with his bow and twenty-four arrows he kept them back till O'Conchubar
and his people were safe out of their reach in Connacht.

But he took some offence then, on account of O'Conchubar taking the
first drink himself when they came to his house, and not giving it to
him, that had done so much, and he took his leave and went from them on
the moment.

After that he went to where Tadg O'Cealaigh was, and having his old
striped clothes and his old shoes as before. And when they asked him
what art he had, he said: "I am good at tricks. And if you will give me
five marks I will show you a trick," he said. "I will give that," said
Tadg.

With that the stranger put three rushes on the palm of his hand. "I will
blow away the middle rush now," he said, "and the other two will stop as
they are." So they told him to do that, and he put the tops of two of
his fingers on the two outside rushes, and blew the middle one away.
"There is a trick now for you, Tadg O'Cealaigh," he said then. "By my
word, that is not a bad trick," said O'Cealaigh. But one of his men
said: "That there may be no good luck with him that did it. And give me
the half of that money now, Tadg," he said, "and I will do the same
trick for you myself." "I will give you the half of what I got if you
will do it," said the stranger. So the other put the rushes on his hand,
but if he did, when he tried to do the trick, his two finger-tips went
through the palm of his hand. "Ob-Ob-Ob!" said the stranger, "that is
not the way I did the trick. But as you have lost the money," he said,
"I will heal you again."

"I could do another trick for you," he said; "I could wag the ear on
one side of my head and the ear on the other side would stay still." "Do
it then," said O'Cealaigh. So the man of tricks took hold of one of his
ears and wagged it up and down. "That is a good trick indeed," said
O'Cealaigh. "I will show you another one now," he said.

With that he took from his bag a thread of silk, and gave a cast of it
up into the air, that it was made fast to a cloud. And then he took a
hare out of the same bag, and it ran up the thread; and then took out a
little dog and laid it on after the hare, and it followed yelping on its
track; and after that again he brought out a little serving-boy and bade
him to follow dog and hare up the thread. Then out of another bag he had
with him he brought out a beautiful, well-dressed young woman, and bade
her to follow after the hound and the boy, and to take care and not let
the hare be torn by the dog. She went up then quickly after them, and it
was a delight to Tadg O'Cealaigh to be looking at them and to be
listening to the sound of the hunt going on in the air.

All was quiet then for a long time, and then the man of tricks said: "I
am afraid there is some bad work going on up there." "What is that?"
said O'Cealaigh. "I am thinking," said he, "the hound might be eating
the hare, and the serving-boy courting the girl." "It is likely enough
they are," said O'Cealaigh. With that the stranger drew in the thread,
and it is what he found, the boy making love to the girl and the hound
chewing the bones of the hare. There was great anger on the man of
tricks when he saw that, and he took his sword and struck the head off
the boy. "I do not like a thing of that sort to be done in my presence,"
said Tadg O'Cealaigh. "If it did not please you, I can set all right
again," said the stranger. And with that he took up the head and made a
cast of it at the body, and it joined to it, and the young man stood
up, but if he did his face was turned backwards. "It would be better for
him to be dead than to be living like that," said O'Cealaigh. When the
man of tricks heard that, he took hold of the boy and twisted his head
straight, and he was as well as before.

And with that the man of tricks vanished, and no one saw where was he
gone.

That is the way Manannan used to be going round Ireland, doing tricks
and wonders. And no one could keep him in any place, and if he was put
on a gallows itself, he would be found safe in the house after, and some
other man on the gallows in his place. But he did no harm, and those
that would be put to death by him, he would bring them to life again
with a herb out of his bag.

And all the food he would use would be a vessel of sour milk and a few
crab-apples. And there never was any music sweeter than the music he
used to be playing.




CHAPTER X. HIS CALL TO BRAN


And there were some that went to Manannan's country beyond the sea, and
that gave an account of it afterwards.

One time Bran, son of Febal, was out by himself near his dun, and he
heard music behind him. And it kept always after him, and at last he
fell asleep with the sweetness of the sound. And when he awoke from his
sleep he saw beside him a branch of silver, and it having white
blossoms, and the whiteness of the silver was the same as the whiteness
of the blossoms.

And he brought the branch in his hand into the royal house, and when all
his people were with him they saw a woman with strange clothing standing
in the house.

And she began to make a song for Bran, and all the people were looking
at her and listening to her, and it is what she said:

"I bring a branch of the apple-tree from Emhain, from the far island
around which are the shining horses of the Son of Lir. A delight of the
eyes is the plain where the hosts hold their games; curragh racing
against chariot in the White Silver Plain to the south.

"There are feet of white bronze under it, shining through life and time;
a comely level land through the length of the world's age, and many
blossoms falling on it.

"There is an old tree there with blossoms, and birds calling from among
them; every colour is shining there, delight is common, and music, in
the Gentle-Voiced Plain, in the Silver Cloud Plain to the south.

"Keening is not used, or treachery, in the tilled familiar land; there
is nothing hard or rough, but sweet music striking on the ear.

"To be without grief, without sorrow, without death, without any
sickness, without weakness; that is the sign of Emhain; it is not common
wonder that is.

"There is nothing to liken its mists to, the sea washes the wave against
the land; brightness falls from its hair.

"There are riches, there are treasures of every colour in the Gentle
Land, the Bountiful Land. Sweet music to be listening to; the best of
wine to drink.

"Golden chariots in the Plain of the Sea, rising up to the sun with the
tide; silver chariots and bronze chariots on the Plain of Sports.

"Gold-yellow horses on the strand, and crimson horses, and others with
wool on their backs, blue like the colour of the sky.

"It is a day of lasting weather, silver is dropping on the land; a pure
white cliff on the edge of the sea, getting its warmth from the sun.

"The host race over the Plain of Sports; it is beautiful and not weak
their game is; death or the ebbing of the tide will not come to them in
the Many-Coloured Land.

"There will come at sunrise a fair man, lighting up the level lands; he
rides upon the plain that is beaten by the waves, he stirs the sea till
it is like blood.

"An army will come over the clear sea, rowing to the stone that is in
sight, that a hundred sounds of music come from.

"It sings a song to the army; it is not sad through the length of time;
it increases music with hundreds singing together; they do not look for
death or the ebb-tide.

"There are three times fifty far islands in the ocean to the west of us,
and every one of them twice or three times more than Ireland.

"It is not to all of you I am speaking, though I have made all these
wonders known. Let Bran listen from the crowd of the world to all the
wisdom that has been told him.

"Do not fall upon a bed of sloth; do not be overcome by drunkenness; set
out on your voyage over the clear sea, and you may chance to come to the
Land of Women."

With that the woman went from them, and they did not know where she
went. And she brought away her branch with her, for it leaped into her
hand from Bran's hand, and he had not the strength to hold it.

Then on the morrow Bran set out upon the sea, and three companies of
nine along with him; and one of his foster-brothers and comrades was set
over each company of nine.

And when they had been rowing for two days and two nights, they saw a
man coming towards them in a chariot, over the sea. And the man made
himself known to them, and he said that he was Manannan, son of Lir.

And then Manannan spoke to him in a song, and it is what he said:

"It is what Bran thinks, he is going in his curragh over the wonderful,
beautiful clear sea; but to me, from far off in my chariot, it is a
flowery plain he is riding on.

"What is a clear sea to the good boat Bran is in, is a happy plain with
many flowers to me in my two-wheeled chariot.

"It is what Bran sees, many waves beating across the clear sea; it is
what I myself see, red flowers without any fault.

"The sea-horses are bright in summer-time, as far as Bran's eyes can
reach; there is a wood of beautiful acorns under the head of your little
boat.

"A wood with blossom and with fruit, that has the smell of wine; a wood
without fault, without withering, with leaves of the colour of gold.

"Let Bran row on steadily, it is not far to the Land of Women; before
the setting of the sun you will reach Emhain, of many-coloured
hospitality."

With that Bran went from him; and after a while he saw an island, and he
rowed around it, and there was a crowd on it, wondering at them, and
laughing; and they were all looking at Bran and at his people, but they
would not stop to talk with them, but went on giving out gusts of
laughter. Bran put one of his men on the island then, but he joined with
the others, and began to stare the same way as the men of the island.
And Bran went on rowing round about the island; and whenever they went
past his own man, his comrades would speak to him, but he would not
answer them, but would only stare and wonder at them. So they went away
and left him on that island that is called the Island of Joy.

It was not long after that they reached to the Land of Women. And they
saw the chief one of the women at the landing-place, and it is what she
said: "Come hither to land, Bran, son of Febal, it is welcome your
coming is." But Bran did not dare to go on shore. Then the woman threw a
ball of thread straight to him, and he caught it in his hand, and it
held fast to his palm, and the woman kept the thread in her own hand,
and she pulled the curragh to the landing-place.

On that they went into a grand house, where there was a bed for every
couple, three times nine beds. And the food that was put on every dish
never came to an end, and they had every sort of food and of drink they
wished for.

And it seemed to them they were only a year there when the desire of
home took hold on one of them, Nechtan, son of Collbrain, and his
kinsmen were begging and praying Bran to go back with him to Ireland.
The woman said there would be repentance on them if they went; but in
spite of that they set out in the end. And the woman said to them not to
touch the land when they would come to Ireland, and she bade them to
visit and to bring with them the man they left in the Island of Joy.

So they went on towards Ireland till they came to a place called Srub
Bruin. And there were people on the strand that asked them who they were
that were coming over the sea. And Bran said: "I am Bran, son of Febal."
But the people said: "We know of no such man, though the voyage of Bran
is in our very old stories."

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