Part 6 (1/2)

4. The invasion of the _Tuatha De Danann_, or People of the G.o.d Dana.

5. The invasion of the Milesians (Sons of Miled) from Spain, and their conquest of the People of Dana.

With the Milesians we begin to come into something resembling historythey represent, in Irish legend, the Celtic race; and from them the ruling families of Ireland are supposed to be descended. The People of Dana are evidently G.o.ds. The pre-Danaan settlers or invaders are huge phantom-like figures, which loom vaguely through the mists of tradition, and have little definite characterisation. The accounts which are given of them are many and conflicting, and out of these we can only give here the more ancient narratives.

*The Coming of Partholan*

The Celts, as we have learned from Caesar, believed themselves to be descended from the G.o.d of the Underworld, the G.o.d of the Dead. Partholan is said to have come into Ireland from the West, where beyond the vast, unsailed Atlantic Ocean the Irish Fairyland, the Land of the Living_i.e._, the land of the Happy Dead was placed. His fathers name was Sera (? the West). He came with his queen Dalny(74) and a number of companions of both s.e.xes. Irelandand this is an imaginative touch intended to suggest extreme antiquitywas then a different country, physically, from what it is now. There were then but three lakes in Ireland, nine rivers, and only one plain. Others were added gradually during the reign of the Partholanians. One, Lake Rury, was said to have burst out as a grave was being dug for Rury, son of Partholan.

*The Fomorians*

The Partholanians, it is said, had to do battle with a strange race, called the Fomorians, of whom we shall hear much in later sections of this book. They were a huge, misshapen, violent and cruel people, representing, we may believe, the powers of evil. One of these was surnamed _Cenchos_, which means The Footless, and thus appears to be related to Vitra, the G.o.d of Evil in Vedantic mythology, who had neither feet nor hands. With a host of these demons Partholan fought for the lords.h.i.+p of Ireland, and drove them out to the northern seas, whence they occasionally harried the country under its later rulers.

The end of the race of Partholan was that they were afflicted by pestilence, and having gathered together on the Old Plain (Senmag) for convenience of burying their dead, they all perished there; and Ireland once more lay empty for reoccupation.

*The Legend of Tuan mac Carell*

Who, then, told the tale? This brings us to the mention of a very curious and interesting legendone of the numerous legendary narratives in which these tales of the Mythical Period have come down to us. It is found in the so-called Book of the Dun Cow, a ma.n.u.script of about the year A.D.

1100, and is ent.i.tled The Legend of Tuan mac Carell.

St. Finnen, an Irish abbot of the sixth century, is said to have gone to seek hospitality from a chief named Tuan mac Carell, who dwelt not far from Finnens monastery at Moville, Co. Donegal. Tuan refused him admittance. The saint sat down on the doorstep of the chief and fasted for a whole Sunday,(75) upon which the surly pagan warrior opened the door to him. Good relations were established between them, and the saint returned to his monks.

Tuan is an excellent man, said he to them; he will come to you and comfort you, and tell you the old stories of Ireland.(76)

This humane interest in the old myths and legends of the country is, it may here be observed, a feature as constant as it is pleasant in the literature of early Irish Christianity.

Tuan came shortly afterwards to return the visit of the saint, and invited him and his disciples to his fortress. They asked him of his name and lineage, and he gave an astounding reply. I am a man of Ulster, he said.

My name is Tuan son of Carell. But once I was called Tuan son of Starn, son of Sera, and my father, Starn, was the brother of Partholan.

Tell us the history of Ireland, then said Finnen, and Tuan began.

Partholan, he said, was the first of men to settle in Ireland. After the great pestilence already narrated he alone survived, for there is never a slaughter that one man does not come out of it to tell the tale. Tuan was alone in the land, and he wandered about from one vacant fortress to another, from rock to rock, seeking shelter from the wolves. For twenty-two years he lived thus alone, dwelling in waste places, till at last he fell into extreme decrepitude and old age.

Then Nemed son of Agnoman took possession of Ireland. He [Agnoman] was my fathers brother. I saw him from the cliffs, and kept avoiding him. I was long-haired, clawed, decrepit, grey, naked, wretched, miserable. Then one evening I fell asleep, and when I woke again on the morrow I was changed into a stag. I was young again and glad of heart. Then I sang of the coming of Nemed and of his race, and of my own transformation.... I have put on a new form, a skin rough and grey. Victory and joy are easy to me; a little while ago I was weak and defenceless.

Tuan is then king of all the deer of Ireland, and so remained all the days of Nemed and his race.

He tells how the Nemedians sailed for Ireland in a fleet of thirty-two barks, in each bark thirty persons. They went astray on the seas for a year and a half, and most of them perished of hunger and thirst or of s.h.i.+pwreck. Nine only escapedNemed himself, with four men and four women.

These landed in Ireland, and increased their numbers in the course of time till they were 8060 men and women. Then all of them mysteriously died.

Again old age and decrepitude fell upon Tuan, but another transformation awaited him. Once I was standing at the mouth of my caveI still remember it and I knew that my body changed into another form. I was a wild boar.

And I sang this song about it:

To-day I am a boar.... Time was when I sat in the a.s.sembly that gave the judgments of Partholan. It was sung, and all praised the melody. How pleasant was the strain of my brilliant judgment! How pleasant to the comely young women! My chariot went along in majesty and beauty. My voice was grave and sweet. My step was swift and firm in battle. My face was full of charm. To-day, lo! I am changed into a black boar.

That is what I said. Yea, of a surety I was a wild boar. Then I became young again, and I was glad. I was king of the boar-herds in Ireland; and, faithful to any custom, I went the rounds of my abode when I returned into the lands of Ulster, at the times old age and wretchedness came upon me.

For it was always there that my transformations took place, and that is why I went back thither to await the renewal of my body.

Tuan then goes on to tell how Semion son of Stariat settled in Ireland, from whom descended the Firbolgs and two other tribes who persisted into historic times. Again old age comes on, his strength fails him, and he undergoes another transformation; he becomes a great eagle of the sea, and once more rejoices in renewed youth and vigour. He then tells how the People of Dana came in, G.o.ds and false G.o.ds from whom every one knows the Irish men of learning are sprung. After these came the Sons of Miled, who conquered the People of Dana. All this time Tuan kept the shape of the sea-eagle, till one day, finding himself about to undergo another transformation, he fasted nine days; then sleep fell upon me, and I was changed into a salmon. He rejoices in his new life, escaping for many years the snares of the fishermen, till at last he is captured by one of them and brought to the wife of Carell, chief of the country. The woman desired me and ate me by herself, whole, so that I pa.s.sed into her womb.