Although Cuchulain won for himself in this war an imperishable fame, yet he was not destined to enjoy it long, for he perished before arriving at middle age.[1] The account of his death is preserved in the Book of Leinster, a manuscript of the middle of the twelfth century, which quotes incidentally from an Irish poet[2] of the seventh century, thus showing that Cuchulain was at this early age the hero of the poets. Unfortunately the opening of the story in the Book of Leinster is lost, but many modern extensions of the saga still exist, from one of which in my possession I shall supply what is missing.[3]

Cuchulain had three formidable enemies, who were bent upon his life, these were Lughaidh [Lewy] the son of the[Pg 342] Momonian king Curigh,[4] whom Cuchulain had slain, Erc, the son of Cairbré Niafer king of all Ireland, who was slain in the battle of Rosnaree,[5] and the descendants of the wizard Calatin, who with his twenty sons and his son-in-law fell by Cuchulain in one of the combats at the Ford, during the raid of the Táin. His wife, however, brought into the world three posthumous children, daughters.[6] These unhappy creatures Mève mutilated by cutting off their right legs and left arms, so that they might be odious and horrible, and all the fitter for the dread profession she proposed for them—evil wizardry. She reared them carefully, and so soon as they were of a fitting age she sent them into the world to gain a knowledge of charms and spells, and druidism, and witchcraft, and incantations. In pursuit of this knowledge they roamed throughout the world, and at last returned to the queen as perfect adepts as might be.

Thereupon she convened a second muster of the men of the four provinces, and joined by Lewy the son of Curigh, and Erc the son of Cairbré Niafer, both of whose parents had fallen by Cuchulain, and having with her the odious but powerful children of Calatin, eager to avenge the death of their father and their family, she again marched upon Ulster[Pg 343] during the sickness of their warriors, and began to plunder and to burn and to drive away a mighty prey. King Conor immediately surmised that it was against Cuchulain the expedition was prepared, and without a moment's delay he depatched Lavarcam his female messenger, to desire him instantly to leave his palace and his patrimony at Dundealgan[7] in the plain of Muirtheimhne, and come to himself at Emania, there to be under the King's immediate orders. This command he gave, thinking to rescue Cuchulain from the possible effects of his own valour and rashness, for there was scarcely a man of distinction in any of the four provinces of Erin some of whose relatives had not been slain by him.

Lavarcam found the hero upon the shore, between sea and land, intent upon the slaying of sea-fowl with his sling, but though birds many flew over him and past him, not one could he bring down—they all escaped him. And this was to him the first bad omen. Very reluctantly did he obey the call of Conor, and sorely loath was he to leave his patrimony. He accompanied Lavarcam, however, to Emania, and abode there in his own bright-lighted crystal grianán. Then Conor consulted with his druids as to how best to keep him there, and they sent the bright ladies of Emania, and his wife Emer, and the poets and the musicians, and the men of science, to surround and distract and amuse him, with conversation and music and banquets.

In the meantime, however, Mève's army had advanced upon and burned Dundealgan, and the children of Calatin had promised that within three days and three nights they would bring Cuchulain to his doom.

And now ensues what is to my mind one of the most powerful incidents in all this saga—the malignant ghoulish efforts of the children of Calatin to draw forth Cuchulain from his place of safety, and on the other side the anxiety of the druids and ladies, and the frenzied heart-sick efforts of his[Pg 344] wife, and his mistress, to detain him. The loathsome wizards flew through the air and stationed themselves upon the plain outside Emania—

    "They smote the soil and beat and tore it up around them, so that they made of fuz-balls, and of stalks of sanna, and of the fine foliage of the oaks, as it were ordered battalions, and hosts, and multitudes of men, and the confused shoutings of the battalions and of the war-bands, and the battle array, were heard on all sides, as it were striking and attacking the fortress."

Geanan the druid, the son of old Cathbadh, was watching Cuchulain this day. As soon as the sounds of war and shouting reached him Cuchulain rose and "looked forth, and he saw the battalions smiting each other unsparingly," as he thought, and he burned at once with fury and shame; but the druid cast his two arms round him in time to prevent him from bursting forth to relieve the apparently foe-beleaguered town. Over and over again must the druid assure him that all he saw was blind-work and magic, and unreal phantoms, employed by the clan Calatin to lure him forth to his destruction.[8] It was impossible, however, to keep Cuchulain from at least looking, and, the next time he looked forth,

    "he thought he beheld the battalions drawn up upon the plains, and the next time he looked after that he thought he saw Gradh son of Lir upon the plain, and it was a geis (tabu) to him to see that, and then he thought moreover that he heard the harp of the son of Mangur playing musically, ever-sweetly, and it was a geis to him to listen to those pleasing fairy sounds, and he recognised from these things that his virtue was indeed overcome, and that his geasa (tabus) were broken, and that the end of his career had arrived, and that his valour and prowess were destroyed by the children of Calatin."

After that one of the daughters of the wizard Calatin,[Pg 345] assuming the form of a crow, came flying over him and incited him with taunts to go and rescue his homestead and his patrimony from the hands of his enemies. And although Cuchulain now understood that these were enchantments that were working against him, yet was he none the less anxious to rush forth and oppose them, for he felt moved and troubled in himself at the shouting of the imaginary hosts, and his memory, and his senses, and his right mind were afflicted by the sounds of that ever-thrilling harp.

Then the druid used all his influence, explaining to him that if he would only remain for three days more in Emania the spells would have no power, and he would go forth again, "and the whole world would be full of his victories and his lasting renown," and thereafter the ladies of Emania and the musicians closed round him, and they sang sweet melodies, and they distracted his mind, and the day drew to a close:—the clan Calatin retired baffled, and Cuchulain was himself once more.

During that night the ladies and the druids took council together and determined to carry him away to a glen so remote and lonely that it was called the Deaf Valley, and to hide him there, preparing for him a splendid banquet, with music, and poets, and delights of every kind.

Next morning came the accursed wizards and inspected the city, and they marvelled that they saw not Cuchulain, and that he was neither beside his wife, nor yet amongst the other heroes of the Red Branch. Then they understood that he had been hidden away by Cathbadh the druid, "and they raised themselves aloft, lightly and airily, upon a blast of enchanted wind, which they created to lift them," and went soaring over the entire province of Ulster to discover his retreat. This they do by perceiving Cuchulain's grey steed, the Liath Macha, standing outside at the entrance to the glen. Then the three begin their wizardry anew, and made, as it were, battalions of warriors to appear round the glen,[Pg 346] and they raised anew the sounds of arms and the shouts of war and conflict, as they had done at Emania.

The instant the ladies round Cuchulain heard it they also shouted, and the musicians struck up—but in vain; Cuchulain had caught the sound. They succeeded, however, in calming his mind, and in inducing him to pay no heed to the false witcheries of the clan Calatin. These continued for a long time waiting and filling the air with their unreal battle tumult, but Cuchulain did not appear. Then they understood that the druids had been more powerful than they. Mad with impotent fury one of them enters the glen, and pushes her way right into the very fortress where Cuchulain was feasting. Once there she changes herself into the form of the beautiful Niamh [Nee-av], Cuchulain's love and sweetheart. First she stood at the door in the likeness of an attendant damsel, and beckoned to the lady to come to her outside. Niamh, thinking she has something to communicate, follows her through the door and out into the valley, and the other ladies follow Niamh. Instantly she raises an enchanted fog between them and the dún, so that they wander astray, and their minds are troubled. But she, assuming the form of the lady Niamh herself, slips back into the fortress, comes to Cuchulain, and cries to him: "Up, O Cuchulain, and meet the men of Erin, or thy fame shall be lost for ever, and the province shall be destroyed." At this speech Cuchulain is astounded, for Niamh had bound him by an oath that he would not go forth or take arms until she herself should give him leave, and this leave he never thought to receive of her until the fatal time was over. "I shall go," said Cuchulain, "and that is a pity, O Niamh," said he, "and after that it is difficult to trust to woman, for I had thought thou hadst not given me that leave for the gold of the world, but since it is thou who dost let me go to face the men of Erin, I shall go." After that he rose and left the dún. "I have no reason for preserving my life longer," said Cuchulain, "for the end of my time is come, and all my[Pg 347] geasa (tabus) are lost, and Niamh has let me go to face the men of Erin; and since she has let me, I shall go."

Afterwards the real Niamh overtakes him at the entrance to the glen, and assured him with torrents of tears, and wild sobs, that it was not she who had given him leave, but the vile enchantress who had assumed her form, and she conjured him with prayers and piteous entreaties to remain with her. But Cuchulain would not believe her, and urged Laeg to catch his steeds and yoke them, for he thought that he beheld—

    "The great battle-battalions ranged upon the green of Emania, and the whole plain filled up and crowded with broad bands of hundreds of men, with champions, and steeds, and arms, and armour, and he thought he heard the awful shoutings, and [saw] the burnings extending, widely-let-loose through the buildings of Conor's city, and him-seemed that there was nor hill nor rising ground about Emania that was not full of spoils, and it appeared to him that Emer's sunny-house was overthrown and had fallen out over the ramparts of Emania, and that the House of the Red Branch was in one blaze, and that all Emania was one meeting-place of fire, and of black, dark, spacious, brown-red smoke."[9]

Then Cuchulain's brooch fell from his hand and pierced his foot, another omen of ill. Nor would his noble grey war-horse allow himself to be caught. It was only when Cuchulain addressed him with persuasive words of verse that he consented to let himself be harnessed to the chariot, and even then "he[Pg 348] lets fall upon his fore feet, from his eyes, two large tears of blood." In vain did the ladies of Emania try to bar his passage, in vain did fifty queens uncover their bosoms before him in supplication. "He is the first," says the saga, "of whom it is recounted that women uncovered before him their bosoms."[10]

Thereafter another evil omen overtook him, for as he pursued the high road leading to the south,

    "and had passed the plain of Mogna, he perceived something, three hags of the half-blind race,[11] who were on the track before him cooking a poisoned dog's flesh upon spits of holly. Now it was a geis (tabu) to Cuchulain to pass a cooking-fire without visiting it and accepting food. It was another geis to eat of his own name" [i.e., a hound, he is Cu-Chulain or Culan's hound], "so he pauses not, but passes the three hags. Then one of them cries to him—

    "'Come, visit us, Cuchulain.'

    "'I shall not visit you,' said Cuchulain.

    "'There is something to eat here,' replied the hag; 'we have a dog to offer thee. If our cooking-place were great,' said she, 'thou wouldst come, but because it is small thou comest not; a great man who despises the small, deserves no honour.'

    "Cuchulain then moved over to the hag, and she with her left hand offered him half the dog. Cuchulain ate, and it was with his left hand he took the piece, and he placed part of it under his left thigh, and his left hand and his left thigh were cursed, and the curse reached all his left side, which from his head to his feet lost a great part of its power."

At last Cuchulain meets the enemy on his ancestral patrimony of Moy Muirtheimhne, drawn up in battle array, with shield to shield as though it were one solid plank that was around them. Cuchulain displays his feats from his chariot, especially "his three thunder-feats—the thunder of an hundred, the thunder of three hundred, the thunder of thrice nine men."

[Pg 349]

    "He played equally with spear, shield, and sword, he performed all the feats of a warrior. As many as there are of grains of sand in the sea, of stars in the heaven, of dewdrops in May, of snowflakes in winter, of hailstones in a storm, of leaves in a forest, of ears of corn in the plains of Bregia, of sods beneath the feet of the steeds of Erin on a summer's day, so many halves of heads, and halves of shields, and halves of hands and halves of feet, so many red bones were scattered by him throughout the plain of Muirtheimhne, it became grey with the brains of his enemies, so fierce and furious was Cuchulain's onslaught."

The plan which Erc, son of the late High-king Cairbré Niafer had adopted was to place two me............