Gods and Fighting Men by Lady I. A Gregory (novels in english TXT) 📖

BOOK THREE: THE BATTLE OF THE WHITE STRAND. CHAPTER I. (THE ENEMIES OF IRELAND)

Of all the great battles the Fianna fought to keep the foreigners out of

Ireland, the greatest was the one that was fought at Finntraigh the

White Strand, in Munster; and this is the whole story of it, and of the

way the Fianna came to have so great a name.

 

One time the enemies of Ireland gathered together under Daire Donn, High

King of the Great World, thinking to take Ireland and to put it under

tribute.

 

The King of Greece was of them, and the King of France, and the King of

the Eastern World, and Lughman of the Broad Arms, King of the Saxons,

and Fiacha of the Long Hair, King of the Gairean, and Tor the son of

Breogan, King of the Great Plain, and Sligech, son of the King of the

Men of Cepda, and Comur of the Crooked Sword, King of the Men of the

Dog-Heads, and Caitchenn, King of the Men of the Cat-Heads, and Caisel

of the Feathers, King of Lochlann, and Madan of the Bent Neck, son of

the King of the Marshes, and three kings from the rising of the sun in

the east, and Ogarmach, daughter of the King of Greece, the best

woman-warrior that ever came into the world, and a great many other

kings and great lords.

 

The King of the World asked then: "Who is there can give me knowledge of

the harbours of Ireland?" "I will do that for you, and I will bring you

to a good harbour," said Glas, son of Bremen, that had been put out of

Ireland by Finn for doing some treachery.

 

Then the armies set out in their ships, and they were not gone far when

the wind rose and the waves, and they could hear nothing but the wild

playing of the sea-women, and the screams of frightened birds, and the

breaking of ropes and of sails. But after a while, when the wind found

no weakness in the heroes, it rose from them and went up into its own

high place. And then the sea grew quiet and the waves grew tame and the

harbours friendly, and they stopped for a while at an island that was

called the Green Rock. But the King of the World said then: "It is not a

harbour like this you promised me, Glas, son of Dremen, but a shore of

white sand where my armies could have their fairs and their gatherings

the time they would not be fighting." "I know a harbour of that sort in

the west of Ireland," said Glas, "the Harbour of the White Strand in

Corca Duibhne." So they went into their ships again, and went on over

the sea towards Ireland.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER II. CAEL AND CREDHE

 

 

Now as to Finn, when it was shown to him that the enemies of Ireland

were coming, he called together the seven battalions of the Fianna. And

the place where they gathered was on the hill that was called

Fionntulach, the White Hill, in Munster. They often stopped on that hill

for a while, and spear-shafts with spells on them were brought to them

there, and they had every sort of thing for food, beautiful

blackberries, haws of the hawthorn, nuts of the hazels of Cenntire,

tender twigs of the bramble bush, sprigs of wholesome gentian,

watercress at the beginning of summer. And there would be brought to

their cooking-pots birds out of the oak-woods, and squirrels from

Berramain, and speckled eggs from the cliffs, and salmon out of

Luimnech, and eels of the Sionnan, and woodcocks of Fidhrinne, and

otters from the hidden places of the Doile, and fish from the coasts of

Buie and Beare, and dulse from the bays of Cleire.

 

And as they were going to set out southwards, they saw one of their

young men, Gael, grandson of Nemhnain, coming towards them. "Where are

you come from, Cael?" Finn asked him. "From Brugh na Boinne," said he.

"What were you asking there?" said Finn. "I was asking to speak with

Muirenn, daughter of Derg, that was my own nurse," said he. "For what

cause?" said Finn. "It was about a high marriage and a woman of the

Sidhe that was showed to me in a dream; Credhe it was I saw, daughter of

the King of Ciarraighe Luachra." "Do you know this, Cael," said Finn,

"that she is the greatest deceiver of all the women of Ireland; and

there is hardly a precious thing in Ireland but she has coaxed it away

to her own great dun." "Do you know what she asks of every man that

comes asking for her?" said Cael. "I know it," said Finn; "she will let

no one come unless he is able to make a poem setting out the report of

her bowls and her horns and her cups, her grand vessels and all her

palaces." "I have all that ready," said Cael; "it was given to me by my

nurse, Muirenn, daughter of Derg."

 

They gave up the battle then for that time, and they went on over every

hilly place and every stony place till they came to Loch Cuire in the

west; and they came to the door of the hill of the Sidhe and knocked at

it with the shafts of their long gold-socketted spears. And there came

young girls having yellow hair to the windows of the sunny houses; and

Credhe herself, having three times fifty women with her, came out to

speak with them. "It is to ask you in marriage we are come," said Finn.

"Who is it is asking for me?" said she. "It is Cael, the hundred-killer,

grandson of Nemhnain, son of the King of Leinster in the east." "I have

heard talk of him, but I have never seen him," said Credhe. "And has he

any poem for me?" she said. "I have that," said Cael, and he rose up

then and sang his poem:

 

"A journey I have to make, and it is no easy journey, to the house of

Credhe against the breast of the mountain, at the Paps of Dana; it is

there I must be going through hardships for the length of seven days. It

is pleasant her house is, with men and boys and women, with Druids and

musicians, with cup-bearer and door-keeper, with horse-boy that does not

leave his work, with distributer to share food; and Credhe of the Fair

Hair having command over them all.

 

"It would be delightful to me in her dun, with coverings and with down,

if she has but a mind to listen to me.

 

"A bowl she has with juice of berries in it to make her eyebrows black;

crystal vats of fermenting grain; beautiful cups and vessels. Her house

is of the colour of lime; there are rushes for beds, and many silken

coverings and blue cloaks; red gold is there, and bright drinking-horns.

Her sunny house is beside Loch Cuire, made of silver and yellow gold;

its ridge is thatched without any fault, with the crimson wings of

birds. The doorposts are green, the lintel is of silver taken in battle.

Credhe's chair on the left is the delight of delights, covered with gold

of Elga; at the foot of the pleasant bed it is, the bed that was made of

precious stones by Tuile in the east. Another bed there is on the right,

of gold and silver, it is made without any fault, curtains it has of the

colour of the foxglove, hanging on rods of copper.

 

"The people of her house, it is they have delight, their cloaks are not

faded white, they are not worn smooth; their hair is fair and curling.

Wounded men in their blood would sleep hearing the birds of the Sidhe

singing in the eaves of the sunny house.

 

"If I have any thanks to give to Credhe, for whom the cuckoo calls, she

will get better praise than this; if this love-service I have done is

pleasing to her, let her not delay, let her say, 'Your coming is

welcome to me.'

 

"A hundred feet there are in her house, from one corner to another;

twenty feet fully measured is the width of her great door; her roof has

its thatch of the wings of blue and yellow birds, the border of her well

is of crystals and carbuncles.

 

"There is a vat there of royal bronze; the juice of pleasant malt is

running from it; over the vat is an apple-tree with its heavy fruit;

when Credhe's horn is filled from the vat, four apples fall into it

together.

 

"She that owns all these things both at low water and at flood, Credhe

from the Hill of the Three Peaks, she is beyond all the women of Ireland

by the length of a spear-cast.

 

"Here is this song for her, it is no sudden bride-gift it is, no hurried

asking; I bring it to Credhe of the beautiful shape, that my coming may

be very bright to her."

 

Then Credhe took him for her husband, and the wedding-feast was made,

and the whole of the Fianna stopped there through seven days, at

drinking and pleasure, and having every good thing.

 

CHAPTER III. CONN CRITHER

Finn now, when he had turned from his road to go to Credhe's house, had

sent out watchmen to every landing-place to give warning when the ships

of the strangers would be in sight. And the man that was keeping watch

at the White Strand was Conn Crither, son of Bran, from Teamhair

Luachra.

 

And after he had been a long time watching, he was one night west from

the Round Hill of the Fianna that is called Cruachan Adrann, and there

he fell asleep. And while he was in his sleep the ships came; and what

roused him was the noise of the breaking of shields and the clashing of

swords and of spears, and the cries of women and children and of dogs

and horses that were under flames, and that the strangers were making an

attack on.

 

Conn Crither started up when he heard that, and he said: "It is great

trouble has come on the people through my sleep; and I will not stay

living after this," he said, "for Finn and the Fianna of Ireland to see

me, but I will rush into the middle of the strangers," he said, "and

they will fall by me till I fall by them."

 

He put on his suit of battle then and ran down towards the strand. And

on the way he saw three women dressed in battle clothes before him, and

fast as he ran he could not overtake them. He took his spear then to

make a cast of it at the woman was nearest him, but she stopped on the

moment, and she said: "Hold your hand and do not harm us, for we are not

come to harm you but to help you." "Who are you yourselves?" said Conn

Crither. "We are three sisters," she said, "and we are come from Tir nan

Og, the Country of the Young, and we have all three given you our love,

and no one of us loves you less than the other, and it is to give you

our help we are come." "What way will you help me?" said Conn. "We will

give you good help," she said, "for we will make Druid armies about you

from stalks of grass and from the tops of the watercress, and they will

cry out to the strangers and will strike their arms from their hands,

and take from them their strength and their eyesight. And we will put a

Druid mist about you now," she said, "that will hide you