Irish Folk Tales (66 page)

All the Fenians seemed near death, they looked so haggard, wretched, and weak.

“We are not fit to give battle till morning,” said Finn. “Do you, Diarmuid, go to the ford with Fatha till morning, when some of our friends may come.”

The two went to the ford, and by that time there were tidings from the fort on the island. The son of the King of the World, Borb Mac Sinnsior na gCath, rose up, and twenty hundred strong champions with him, and went to the ford.

“I think it too long to wait for news,” said Oisín on Sliabh na mBan. “I must go myself.”

And he went swiftly till he came near the ford and heard the sound of the great battle. Then he rushed on himself and met Borb, and Oisín got vexed so that his spirits rose and his strength grew in the way that he put the son of the King of the World under him and made him sigh, and then he took the head off his body.

Oisín was proud of the deed, and showed the head to his friend and the enemy. Finn and the Fenians came now from the Quicken Fort and slew those of the twenty hundred who had not fallen at the hands of Oisín, Diarmuid, and Fatha Conán.

When the people on the island discovered that all the men sent forward were slain they gave three heavy shouts of wailing. The King of the World moved and all his men with him, a great multitude, to give final battle.

When Oisín left Sliabh na mBan he commanded the Fenians to follow him to the Quicken Fort. All assembled in haste with their standards, and at the head of them Finn’s standard, Scáil Gréine, Shadow of the Sun. They went forward speedily, but in good order of battle, and were nearing the ford at the same time with the High King of the World. The two forces met with spears and swords, and were slaying each other till the front half of each army was lying on the earth.

Goll, son of Mórna, and Sinnsior na gCath met then in the center of the field. Goll struck the head off his enemy and raised it aloft, boasting of the deed. The King’s forces trembled at the sight and fled. The Fenians followed and hunted them. They left not a man to give account of the battle, but the man who escaped through forests or under rocks or who went by the swiftness of his feet to a ship. Those who escaped to the ships raised sails and hastened homeward, making no halt on the way. Many a strong hero was left dead on the field, and many a woman was weeping for a son, and many a woman was bewailing her husband, and many a woman lost her mind through terror and fled to the forests.

The Fenians themselves suffered greatly. Many were slain and many terribly wounded.

This is what came of the war of Colgán Mac Teine and of the revenge of Míogach his son, and of the invasion of Sinnsior na gCath, High King of the World. They thought to destroy Finn and the Fenians with slaughter and enchantments, and this was the end of their efforts.

U
SHEEN’S RETURN TO IRELAND

Usheen was the last of the Fianna and the greatest of them. It’s he was brought away to Tir-Nan-Oge, that place where you’d stop for a thousand years and be as young as the first day you went.

Out hunting they were, and there was a deer came before them very often, and they would follow it with the hounds, and it would always make for the sea, and there was a rock a little way out in the water, and it would leap on to that, and they wouldn’t follow it.

So one day they were going to hunt, they put Usheen out on the rock first, the way he could catch a hold of the deer and be there before it. So they found it and followed it, and when it jumped on to the rock Usheen got a hold of it. But it went down into the sea and brought him with it to some enchanted place underground that was called Tir-Nan-Oge, and there he stopped a very long time, but he thought it was only a few days he was in it.

It is in that direction, to the west he was brought, and it was to the Clare coast he came back. And in that place you wouldn’t feel the time
passing, and he saw the beauty of heaven and kept his youth there a thousand years.

It is a fine place, and everything that is good is in it. And if anyone is sent there with a message he will want to stop in it, and twenty years of it will seem to him like one half-hour. But as to where Tir-Nan-Oge is, it is in every place, all about us.

Well, when he thought he had been a twelvemonth there, he began to wish to see the strong men again, his brothers; and he asked whoever was in authority in that place to give him a horse and to let him go.

And they told him his brothers were all dead, but he wouldn’t believe it.

So they gave him a horse, but they bade him not to get off it or to touch the ground while he would be away; and they put him back in his own country.

And when he went back to his old place, there was nothing left of the houses but broken walls, and they covered with moss; and all his friends and brothers were dead, with the length of time that had passed.

And where his own home used to be he saw the stone trough standing that used to be full of water, and where they used to be putting their hands in and washing themselves.

And when he saw it he had such a wish and such a feeling for it that he forgot what he was told and got off the horse.

And in a minute it was as if all the years came on him, and he was lying there on the ground, a very old man and all his strength gone.

F
AIR, BROWN, AND TREMBLING

King Aedh Cúrucha lived in Tir Conal, and he had three daughters, whose names were Fair, Brown, and Trembling.

Fair and Brown had new dresses, and went to church every Sunday. Trembling was kept at home to do the cooking and work. They would not let her go out of the house at all; for she was more beautiful than the other two, and they were in dread she might marry before themselves.

They carried on in this way for seven years. At the end of seven years the son of the king of Omanya fell in love with the eldest sister.

One Sunday morning, after the other two had gone to church, the old henwife came into the kitchen to Trembling, and said: “It’s at church you ought to be this day, instead of working here at home.”

“How could I go?” said Trembling. “I have no clothes good enough to wear at church. And if my sisters were to see me there, they’d kill me for going out of the house.”

“I’ll give you,” said the henwife, “a finer dress than either of them has ever seen. And now tell me what dress will you have?”

“I’ll have,” said Trembling, “a dress as white as snow, and green shoes for my feet.”

Then the henwife put on the cloak of darkness, clipped a piece from the old clothes the young woman had on, and asked for the whitest robes in the world and the most beautiful that could be found, and a pair of green shoes.

That moment she had the robe and the shoes, and she brought them to Trembling, who put them on. When Trembling was dressed and ready, the henwife said: “I have a honey-bird here to sit on your right shoulder, and a honey-finger to put on your left. At the door stands a milk-white mare, with a golden saddle for you to sit on, and a golden bridle to hold in your hand.”

Trembling sat on the golden saddle. And when she was ready to start, the henwife said: “You must not go inside the door of the church, and the minute the people rise up at the end of Mass, do you make off, and ride home as fast as the mare will carry you.”

When Trembling came to the door of the church there was no one inside who could get a glimpse of her but was striving to know who she was; and when they saw her hurrying away at the end of Mass, they ran out to overtake her. But no use in their running; she was away before any man could come near her. From the minute she left the church till she got home, she overtook the wind before her, and outstripped the wind behind.

She came down at the door, went in, and found the henwife had dinner ready. She put off the white robes, and had on her old dress in a twinkling.

When the two sisters came home the henwife asked: “Have you any news today from the church?”

“We have great news,” said they. “We saw a wonderful, grand lady at the church door. The like of the robes she had we have never seen on woman before. It’s little that was thought of our dresses beside what she had on. And there wasn’t a man at the church, from the king to the beggar, but was trying to look at her and know who she was.”

The sisters would give no peace till they had two dresses like the robes of the strange lady; but honey-birds and honey-fingers were not to be found.

Next Sunday the two sisters went to church again, and left the youngest at home to cook the dinner.

After they had gone, the henwife came in and asked: “Will you go to church today?”

“I would go,” said Trembling, “if I could get the going.”

“What robe will you wear?” asked the henwife.

“The finest black satin that can be found, and red shoes for my feet.”

“What color do you want the mare to be?”

“I want her to be so black and so glossy that I can see myself in her body.”

The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, and asked for the robes and the mare. That moment she had them. When Trembling was dressed, the henwife put the honey-bird on her right shoulder and the honey-finger on her left. The saddle on the mare was silver, and so was the bridle.

When Trembling sat in the saddle and was going away, the henwife ordered her strictly not to go inside the door of the church, but to rush away as soon as the people rose at the end of Mass, and hurry home on the mare before any man could stop her.

That Sunday the people were more astonished than ever, and gazed at her more than the first time, and all they were thinking of was to know who she was. But they had no chance, for the moment the people rose at the end of Mass she slipped from the church, was in the silver saddle, and home before a man could stop her or talk to her.

The henwife had the dinner ready. Trembling took off her satin robe, and had on her old clothes before her sisters got home.

“What news have you today?” asked the henwife of the sisters when they came from the church.

“Oh, we saw the grand strange lady again! And it’s little that any man could think of our dresses after looking at the robes of satin that she had on! And all at church, from high to low, had their mouths open, gazing at her, and no man was looking at us.”

The two sisters gave neither rest nor peace till they got dresses as nearly like the strange lady’s robes as they could find. Of course they were not so good, for the like of those robes could not be found in Erin.

When the third Sunday came, Fair and Brown went to church dressed in black satin. They left Trembling at home to work in the kitchen, and told her to be sure and have dinner ready when they came back.

After they had gone and were out of sight, the henwife came to the kitchen and said: “Well, my dear, are you for church today?”

“I would go if I had a new dress to wear.”

“I’ll get you any dress you ask for. What dress would you like?” asked the henwife.

“A dress red as a rose from the waist down, and white as snow from
the waist up; a cape of green on my shoulders; and a hat on my head with a red, a white, and a green feather in it; and shoes for my feet with the toes red, the middle white, and the backs and heels green.”

The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, wished for all these things, and had them. When Trembling was dressed, the henwife put the honey-bird on her right shoulder and the honey-finger on her left, and placing the hat on her head, clipped a few hairs from one lock and a few from another with her scissors, and that moment the most beautiful golden hair was flowing down over the girl’s shoulders. Then the henwife asked what kind of a mare she would ride. She said white, with blue and gold-colored diamond-shaped spots all over her body, on her back a saddle of gold, and on her head a golden bridle.

The mare stood there before the door, and a bird sitting between her ears, which began to sing as soon as Trembling was in the saddle, and never stopped till she came home from the church.