Early Irish Myths and Sagas (17 page)

‘The Birth of Cú Chulaind’ exists in two quite different versions, one going back, in written form, to the (now lost) Book of Druimm Snechtai, the other being somewhat later; it is the earlier version that is presented here. Cú Chulaind, like Conare Már, has two fathers, but the story of his birth is clearly corrupt. In the original version, Lug must have come to Deichtine (perhaps as a bird) in the strange house and slept with her and left her pregnant; in this version, Deichtine’s visit to the Bruig accomplishes nothing, and there is no connection between Lug and the tiny creature in the copper vessel.

Lug himself was one of the most important Irish deities. His continental counterpart, who was probably named Lugos, is identified by Caesar as the Celtic Mercury and the most important of the Celtic gods, and he gave his name to a number of European towns, including Lyon, Leiden and Liegnitz (Legnica). In Irish literature, Lug is the most prominent of the Túatha Dé Danand in ‘The Second Battle of Mag Tured’; while it is thus appropriate that Cú Chulaind, the greatest Irish hero, should be his son, the tradition that makes him so may not be very old. The last section of the story represents a not very refined attempt to explain why Cú Chulaind was known as the son of Súaltaim when his real father was Lug.

Like the birth of the Welsh hero Pryderi, the birth of Cú Chulaind is contemporaneous with the birth of a horse; and each hero subsequently receives the animal as a gift. Cú Chulaind’s birth, however, is marked by other portents: the appearance and guidance of the flock of birds, which clearly is from the otherworld, and the great snowfall. The event takes place, oddly, at Bruig na Bóinde (New Grange), a site associated with the mythological tales and not with those about the Ulaid, but it may have been chosen to underline the assertion that he is of divine origin. That Cú Chulaind is the son of Conchubur’s sister suggests a system of matrilinear descent in Ireland.

Cú Chulaind is also like Pryderi in that the name by which he is best known is not the one he is given at birth. His original name, Sétantae, means ‘one who has knowledge of roads and ways’ and would have been suitable for a divinity whose influence was widespread.

One time, when Conchubur and the chieftains of Ulaid were at Emuin Machae, a flock of birds frequented the plain out-side Emuin, and it grazed there until not so much as a root or a stalk or a blade of grass remained. The Ulaid were distressed to see the land so devastated, and thus, one day, they harnessed nine chariots and set out to drive the birds away, for it was their custom to hunt birds. Conchubur sat in his chariot together with his grown daughter Deichtine, for she was his charioteer; and the other champions of the
Ulaid sat in their chariots, Conall and Lóegure and everyone else, even Bricriu. Before them the birds flew, over Slíab Fúait, over Edmund, over Brega, and the Ulaid were en-chanted by the birds’ flight and by their singing. There were nine score birds in all, each score flying separately, and each pair of birds was linked by a silver chain.

Towards evening three birds broke away and made for Bruig na Bóinde. Then night came upon the Ulaid, and a great snow fell, so Conchubur told his people to unyoke their chariots, and he sent a party to seek shelter. Conall and Bricriu searched the area and found a single house, new; they went inside and were welcomed by the couple there, and then they returned to their people. Bricriu complained that it would not be worthwhile to go to a house that had neither food nor clothing and was narrow into the bargain. All the same, the Ulaid went; they took their chariots with them, but they did not take much inside. Suddenly, they discovered a storehouse door before them. Then it came time to eat, and the Ulaid grew merry with drink, and their disposition was good. The man of the house told them that his wife was in labour in the storehouse, so Deichtine went back to help, and soon a son was born. At the same time, a mare that was at the entrance to the house gave birth to two foals. The Ulaid gave the colts to the boy as a gift, and Deichtine nursed him.

When morning came, the Ulaid found themselves east of the Bruig – no house, no birds, only their horses and the boy with his colts. They returned to Emuin Machae, and the boy was nursed until he was a young lad, but then he fell ill and died. Tears were shed, and Deichtine was greatly saddened by the death of her foster-son. Finally, when she had left off sighing, she felt thirsty and requested drink from a copper vessel, and that was brought. Every time she put the vessel to her mouth, a tiny creature would leap from the liquid
towards her lips; yet, when she took the vessel from her mouth, there was nothing to be seen. That night, she had a dream: a man spoke to her and said that he had brought her towards the Bruig, that it was his house she had entered, that she was pregnant by him and that it was a son that would be born. The man’s name was Lug son of Eithliu; the boy’s name was to be Sétantae, and it was for him that the colts were to be reared.

Thereafter, Deichtine indeed became pregnant. The Ulaid were troubled since they did not know the father, and they surmised that Conchubur had fathered the child while drunk, for Deichtine used to sleep next to him. Conchubur then betrothed his daughter to Súaltaim son of Roech. Deichtine was greatly embarrassed at having to go to Súaltaim’s bed while being pregnant, so, when the time came, she lay down in the bed and crushed the child within her. Then she went to Súaltaim, and at once she became pregnant by him and bore him a son.

‘The Boyhood Deeds of Cú Chulaind’ is not an independent tale but rather a series of extracts from ‘The Cattle Raid of Cúailnge’ (here presented in the earlier, less refined Lebor na huidre version). Fergus and a number of other Ulaid chieftains have transferred their allegiance to Connachta in protest at Conchubur’s treacherous slaying of the sons of Uisliu; and now, with the Connachta about to attack Ulaid, the exiles are describing to Ailill and Medb the boyhood feats of the great hero of the north.

The first exploit recalls the opening episode of the Welsh tale ‘Peredur’: a naive, callow youth leaves his unwilling mother (he does not have a father, possibly because his real father is understood to be either royal or divine) and goes forth to find his proper companions (the boy troop of Emuin Machae in the one case, the knights of King Arthur’s court in the other). Cú Chulaind’s feats with his ball and hurley and toy javelin and his complete dominance over the boy troop are superhuman and at the same time pure play; Peredur, though merely precocious, is yet more mature, for, as well as outrunning deer, he dispatches enemy knights and even kisses women.

The second extract explains how Cú Chulaind once saved Conchubur in battle. Even at this early stage of the Ulster Cycle, Conchubur’s role has deteriorated; and already Cú Chulaind, as his sister’s son, appears as his natural heir.

The third extract explains how Sétantae came to be known as Cú Chulaind. Such stories are common in Irish saga, but this explanation is unusually convincing – why else would a young hero be called the ‘Hound of Culand’? The mystery is rather in why the central character of the Ulster Cycle, a figure whose divine origin is manifest, should have been given a name so much more appropriate to a mortal hero, especially when his original name suits him so well. In the case of both Pryderi and Cú Chulaind, there are objections to the new name: Rhiannon asks whether her son’s own name does not suit him better, while Cú Chulaind himself expresses a preference for his original name; but, in each case, the advice of a wise elder (the Chieftain of Dyved in the Welsh tale, Cathub in the Irish one) prevails.

The fourth extract seems modelled on the tradition that Achilles chose a short life in order to win great fame. The episode at the end, where Cú Chulaind is seized by his ríastarthae, or battle fury, and has to be cooled off in vats of water, is entirely typical of him, as is his shyness in the presence of bare-breasted women.

The antiquity of these extracts is open to doubt: the mythic element is slight, and there is considerable humour.

‘In truth, he was reared by his mother and his father at Airgdech in Mag Muirthemni,’ said Fergus. ‘There he was told of the fame of the boys at Emuin Machae, for three fifties of boys play there. Conchubur enjoys his sovereignty thus:
one third of the day watching the boys play, one third playing fidchell and one third drinking until he falls asleep. Although we are in exile because of him, there is not in Ériu a greater warrior.

‘Cú Chulaind entreated his mother, then, to let him go to the boys. “You are not to go,” she replied, “until one of the champions of Ulaid can accompany you.” “Too long to wait, that,” Cú Chulaind answered. “Just tell me in which direction Emuin lies.” “To the north, there, and the path is dangerous,” said his mother. “Slíab Fúait lies between you and Emuin.” “Even so, I will try it,” said Cú Chulaind. He went forth, then, with his toy javelin and his toy shield and his hurley and his ball. He would throw his javelin on ahead and then catch it before it could strike the ground.

‘When he reached Emuin, he went to the boys without first securing their protection – at that time, no one went to the playing field without a guarantee that the boys would protect him. Cú Chulaind was unaware of this. “The boy outrages us,” said Follomon son of Conchubur, “and yet we know he is of the Ulaid.” The boys warned Cú Chulaind off, but he defeated them. They threw their three fifties of javelins at him, but he stopped every one with his toy shield. They threw their three fifties of balls at him, but he caught them all against his chest. They threw their three fifties of hurleys at him, but he warded them off and took an armful on his back.

‘Then his ríastarthae came upon him.
¹
You would have thought that every hair was being driven into his head. You would have thought that a spark of fire was on every hair. He closed one eye until it was no wider than the eye of a needle; he opened the other until it was as big as a wooden bowl. He bared his teeth from jaw to ear, and he opened his mouth until the gullet was visible. The warrior’s moon rose from his head.