Early Irish Myths and Sagas (27 page)

During the cattle raid of Cúailnge, Fergus said this about Dóeltenga:

Away with Dubthach Dóeltenga,
drag him behind the host.
Never has he done any good;
he has slain young women.

He has done a hideous, shameful deed:
the slaying of Fíachu son of Conchubur.
Neither is he any the more illustrious
for the slaying of Mane son of Fedilmid

He does not contest the kingship of Ulaid,
this son of Lugaid son of Casrubae.
Those people whom he cannot kill
he incites against each other.

‘No lie that,’ said Dubthach Dóeltenga. ‘But note the strength of the house and how the door is closed. Do you not see that, though you might want to leave, you cannot? Shame on me if, outside, there is not some dispute about attacking us. Let him whom the Ulaid consider their best warrior obtain news for us.’

With that, Cú Chulaind rose and did the hero’s salmon leap upwards, so that he went from the ridge pole of the house to the ridge pole of another house; and he saw the host gathered below, forming a solid front for the attack. Ailill placed his back against the door to protect those inside, and his seven sons joined hands in the doorway; but the host broke into the middle of the courtyard.

Cú Chulaind returned to his people, then, and he kicked at the door so that his leg went through it up to the knee. ‘If that blow had been delivered against a woman,’ said Dubthach, ‘she would be in bed.’ Cú Chulaind kicked again, and the door frame fell into the hearth. ‘Advice!’ said Senchae. ‘That is here,’ answered Cú Chulaind. ‘You will have whatever is fit from youths in combat. Your enemies approach.’ ‘What is your advice?’ asked Senchae. ‘Put your backs against the wall, and have your weapons before you, and charge one man to speak with them,’ said Cú Chulaind. ‘If that which comes is heavier to raise, then throw the house from you.’ ‘Who should speak with them?’ asked
Senchae. ‘I will, for any of them whom I stare at will die,’ said Triscoth.

Outside, their enemies were holding a council. ‘Who should speak with them and be the first to go inside?’ asked a youth. ‘I will go,’ said Lopán. Lopán went inside, then, taking nine men with him, and he said ‘A warrior’s deed, warriors.’ ‘Man against man – that is a warrior’s deed,’ said Triscoth. ‘True enough. Triscoth as spokesman for the Ulaid? No other worthy spokesman?’ said Lopán. But Triscoth looked balefully at him, and the soles of Lopán’s feet turned deathly white.

After that, Fer Calliu came into the house with nine men. ‘A warrior’s deed, warriors!’ he said. ‘Man against man – that is a warrior’s deed,’ said Triscoth, and he looked bale-fully at Fer Calliu until the soles of the latter’s feet turned deathly white.

After that, Míanach Anaidgned entered the house with nine men. ‘Those on the floor seem pale to us,’ he said. Triscoth looked at him, but Míanach said ‘Look at me and see if I die.’ Triscoth seized him, then, and hurled him against the three nines that had entered the house, and not one of those men left alive.

After that, the host gathered about the house to take it from the Ulaid, and the Ulaid overturned the house so that it fell upon three hundred of the host. The fighting broke out, then, and it lasted until the middle of the following day; and the Ulaid were, routed, for they were few in number. Ailill watched this from his dwelling in the fort, and he said ‘The tales of the Ulaid were tales to be told until today. I was told that there were no youths in Ériu to equal them, but today I see in them nothing but shame. It is an old proverb that no battle is fought without a king; a battle fought round me, however, would not long endure. But I may not fight them, for that would violate my honour.’

With that, Cú Chulaind bounded through the troop and attacked them three times. Furbude Fer Bend son of Con-chubur also assailed them, but his enemies would not strike at him because of his great beauty. ‘Why do you not attack him?’ said one man. ‘Not pleasing the little games of this magnificent fellow. I swear by what my people swear by, if he had a head of gold, I would still slay the man who slew my brother.’ But Furbude cast his spear at the man and killed him. Thereafter, the Erainn were routed, so that only three of them escaped; the Ulaid plundered the fort, but they spared Ailill and his seven sons, none of whom had fought. Since that time, Temuir Lúachra has not been inhabited.

Crumthand Níad Náir, of the Erainn, escaped. To the west, at the Lemuin, he encountered the female satirist Riches, who was his foster-mother. ‘Was my son left?’ she asked. ‘He was,’ Crumthand replied. ‘Come with me, and I will avenge him,’ she said. ‘How will you do that?’ Crumthand asked. ‘You will slay Cú Chulaind in return,’ Riches said. ‘How will I do that?’ Crumthand asked. ‘Not difficult that,’ she said. ‘If you can use your two hands you will need nothing else, for you will find him all ready for you.’

Riches went out after the host, then, and she found Cú Chulaind up ahead at a ford in Crích Úaithne. She took her clothes off in front of Cú Chulaind, and he turned his face to the ground that he might not see her nakedness. ‘Attack now, Crumthand,’ she said. ‘There is a man coming at you,’ said Lóeg. ‘Indeed not,’ said Cú Chulaind, ‘for, while the woman is in that state, I may not rise.’ Lóeg took a stone from the chariot and hurled it at Riches so that it broke her back and slew her. Cú Chulaind rose, then, and met Crumthand; they fought, and Cú Chulaind took his head and his gear.

Cú Chulaind and Lóeg followed the host, then, until they
reached Cú Chulaind’s fort, and they slept there. Cú Chulaind entertained the Ulaid for forty nights with one feast; after that, they departed and left their blessing with him. Ailill, moreover, came north to Ulaid to visit. He was given the width of his face in gold and silver and seven cumals for each of his sons; then he returned to his own land, in peace and harmony with the Ulaid. Thereafter, Conchubur’s kingship was unimpaired for as long as he lived.

‘Bricriu’s Feast’, perhaps the most characteristic Ulster Cycle story, has just about everything: a mythic subtext, a heroic competition, visits to and from the otherworld, elements of humour and parody and a rambling, patchwork structure. The mythic subtext comprises the beheading sequence known to English literature from
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight;
but there, even though the tale is of later date, the regeneration theme is clearer because the ritual slaying takes place at New Year (the English equivalent of Samuin) and because the earth-goddess figure (the Green Knight’s wife) is present. Irish tradition frequently presents otherworld judges as large, ugly churls in rough, drab clothing; one might also compare Cú Ruí’s appearance with that of Arawn at the outset of ‘Pwyll Lord of Dyved’. As for the Green Knight’s colour, which has led some to identify him as a vegetation figure, grey and green are not always clearly distinguished in Irish – the word
glass
, for example, might signify either colour.

The actual text, or theme, of ‘Bricriu’s Feast’ is much simpler: the contest among Lóegure Búadach, Conall Cernach and Cú Chulaind for the champion’s portion – that is, for the biggest and best serving at feasts and for the privilege of sitting at Conchubur’s right. The competition
takes the folktale form wherein each of three brothers attempts a feat (Cú Chulaind, of course, is the youngest).

Bricriu, whose sobriquet Nemthenga means ‘poison tongue’, is a mischief-maker, an Irish Lóki; yet he seldom perpetrates any permanent or serious damage (such as the death of Baldur). ‘Bricriu’s Feast’ is, in fact, comic as well as heroic. Although Bricriu threatens to turn the Ulaid against one another, to set father against son and mother against daughter, it is not until he threatens to set the breasts of each Ulaid women beating against each other that the chieftains agree to attend his feast. The risibility of Fedelm, Lendabair and Emer racing each other to the drinking house, their suspicions raised as high as their skirts, cannot have escaped the storyteller; neither can the spectacle of Bricriu’s beautiful house left lopsided, nor that of Bricriu himself thrown down on to the garbage heap and reappearing at the door so filthy with dirt and mud that the Ulaid do not recognize him.

The structure of ‘Bricriu’s Feast’ leaves something to be desired. Doubtless the storyteller has stretched his material (and his host’s hospitality), and perhaps he has tried to reconcile conflicting traditions; still, the resultant repetitions and duplications must have sounded better in a chieftain’s banquet hall than they look in print, and it is also fair to presume some degree of deterioration in both transmission and transcription.

‘Bricriu’s Feast’ is the ultimate source for Yeats’s play
The Green Helmet
.

Bricriu Nemthenga prepared a great feast for Conchubut son of Ness and all of Ulaid. He spent an entire year preparing this feast: he had an ornamented mansion built for the guests, and he had it erected at Dún Rudrige. Bricriu’s house was built in the likeness of the Cráebrúad at Emuin Machae, but his house surpassed the Cráebrúad as to materials and workmanship, beauty and decoration, pillars and façades, carvings and lintels, radiance and beauty, comeliness and excellence – in short, it surpassed every house of that time. It was constructed on the plan of the Tech Midchúarta: there were nine apartments between the hearth and the wall, and each façade was thirty feet high and made of bronze, and there was gold ornamentation everywhere. A royal apartment for Conchubur was erected at the front of the royal house, high above the other couches, and it was ornamented with carbuncle and other precious things; it shone with the radiance of gold and silver and carbuncle and every colour, so that it was as bright by night as by day. Round this apartment were built twelve apartments, for the twelve warriors of Ulaid. The workmanship of this house was as good as the materials used to build it: a team of oxen was required to draw each pillar, and seven of the strongest men of Ulaid to fix each pillar: and thirty of the chief seers of Ériu came to place and arrange everything.

Bricriu also had built, for himself, a bower, and it was as
high as Conchubur’s apartment and those of his warriors. This bower was decorated with marvellous embroideries and hangings, and glass windows were set in on every side. And one of these windows was set over Bricriu’s couch, in order that he might see what was going on, for he knew that the Ulaid would not allow him inside the house.

When all was ready – the great house, and the bower, and their provisioning with plaids and coverlets and quilts and pillows and food and drink – and when nothing was wanting as to furnishings and materials for the feast, Bricriu went off to Emuin Machae to see Conchubur and the chieftains of Ulaid. The Ulaid were holding a fair at Emuin that day; Bricriu was welcomed and placed at Conchubur’s shoulder, and he said to Conchubur and to the chieftains ‘Come and enjoy my feast with me.’ ‘I am willing if the Ulaid are,’ Conchubur answered, but Fergus son of Roech and the other chieftains said ‘We will not go. If we go to his feast, he will incite us against each other, and our dead will outnumber our living.’ ‘I will do worse than that if you do not come,’ said Bricriu. ‘What will you do?’ asked Conchubur. ‘I will incite the kings and the chiefs and the warriors and the young warriors,’ said Bricriu, ‘so that you will all kill one other unless you come to drink at my feast.’ ‘We will not go to avoid that,’ said Conchubur. ‘Then I will set son against father and incite them to kill each other,’ said Bricriu. ‘If that is not enough, I will set daughter against mother. And if that is not enough, I will incite the two breasts of every Ulaid woman to beat against each other and become foul and putrid.’ ‘In that case, it would be better to go,’ said Fergus. ‘Let a few chieftains form a council, if that seems right,’ said Senchae son of Ailill, and Conchubur agreed, saying ‘Evil will come of our not adopting some plan.’

The chieftains formed a council, then, and, as they discussed
the matter, Senchae gave the following advice: ‘Since you must go with Bricriu, require him to give hostages, and, as soon as he has set out the feast, send eight swordsmen to escort him from the house.’ Furbude son of Conchubur took that decision to Bricriu, and Bricriu replied ‘I will be happy to abide by that.’ Thus the Ulaid set out from Emuin Machae, each band with its king, each troop with its leader, each host with its chieftain – a marvellously handsome procession it was, with the warriors and the men of might making for the royal house.