Eleanor Hull

“ And as, with slow and stately pace the chariot moves, drawn by two noble horses, white and black, a chant goes up upon the midnight air, not like the pagan chants of other days, but sweet and gentle as a summer-song, and with a note of triumph in its sound, telling the coming of a hero-chief, who shall be called the Christ, and who will bring great peace and rest to men. And when that song is heard, rising with its sweet strain o’er all the fort, the fires of war and hate are softened in the chieftains’ hearts, and women smile upon their little babes and hug them to their breasts. ”

“ But after his farewell, the hero turned him back into the fray, and on his foes he took a fierce revenge. No sword or armour could withstand his blows. On every side he seemed to be at once, now here, now there, dealing death-bearing wounds. Before him, and on every side, the men of Erin fled, while, like the avenging god of war, Cuchulain pressed behind.
Then when the cruel Children of the Blast beheld the rout, one of the three limped to where Luga stood, and ugly was her face, and black her scowl. “Why fling you not the spear we brought to you? A king will fall by it if it is thrown.” ”

“ Then in a high and haughty voice, as when a Queen speaks to an underling, Meave called across the valley to Cuchulain. She set before him honourable terms if he would leave the service of King Conor and enter hers. Promptly, without an instant’s thought, he set them all aside. Then as he seemed about to turn away to practise feats again, in despair the Queen called out, “Are there no terms whatever that you will accept? it is not pleasant to our people, nor likes it them at all, to be cut off and slaughtered night by night and harassed by your precious thunder-feats.” ”

“ And Deirdre grew up tall and stately as the sapling [204] of the forest, and lithe as the green moorland rush that bows before the wind. Of all the women of the world was Deirdre the gentlest and best, lovely of form and lovely in her mind; light as the hind that leaps upon the hill, and white and shapely as the snowy swan. But though they tended her, and fed her with the best, the maiden drooped and pined. And on a day Levarcam said, “What ails thee, girl? Why is thy face so pale, thy step so slow? Why dost thou sigh and mope?” ”

“ They were not bent, like Caffa, or wrinkled, like King Conor when he came; nor were they dark and roughly clad, with shaggy beards, like the one hunter who had made his way to her abode. These men were young and lithe, straight as the pine and shapely as the stag. But one above the rest towered head and shoulders high, his raven locks thrown back, his blue eye scanning all the mountain for trace of fawn or deer. Beside them, in the leash, three noble hounds; and as they paced along the upland track, Deirdre sat mute in wonder, for in all her life never had she seen such goodly men as these. ”

“ Young though he is, the marks of many wounds are on his skin, and round his head there shines the ‘hero’s light.’ A face he has the noblest and the best, and in his eyes sparkle the champion’s gleams; a stripling, fair and modest in his home, but in the battle fierce and tough and strong, as though he wore a mighty dragon’s form. In either of his hands four darts he holds, and with a skill before unknown, he plies them on your host. A formidable sword hangs by his side, and close beside him stands his charioteer, holding his pointed spear. A madness seems to seize him in the fight ”

“ But to the three times fifty queens who wept for him, the soul of Cuchulain, radiant and noble as in life, appeared once more; and on the ramparts of Emain by night, old warriors tell how, when men are asleep, the spirit-chariot of a spirit-chief, clad in his battle armour as of yore, moves round the walls, guarding the outer ramparts from the foe; and all men sleep in safety, for the Hound of Ulster wakes. ”

“ Among chariot-chiefs and champions, among poets and learned men, among the lords and nobles of Ulster, have I been reared, and they have taught me courage and skill and manly gifts. In birth and bravery I am a match for any chariot-chief; I direct the counsels of Ulster, and at my own fort at Dun Dalgan they come to me for entertainment. Not as one of the common herd do I stand before thee here to-day, but as the favourite of the King and the darling of all the warriors of Ulster. ”

“ The aged Fergus sat at his right hand, and Caffa next to him; close by sat Conall Cernach, a mighty warrior, still in his full prime, and by his side, as in old times, Cuchulain sat. He seemed still young, but of an awesome aspect, as one who had a tragedy before him, and great deeds behind; and, for all that he was the pride of Ulster’s hosts, men stood in dread before him, as though he were a god.
Around the board sat many a mighty man and good prime warrior seasoned by long wars. ”

“ Fergus said. “I come to tell thee who it is that on the morrow has bound himself to meet thee at the ford, and urge thee to beware of him.”
“I am attentive,” Cuchulain answered. “Who is the man who comes?”
“’Tis thine own friend, thy comrade and fellow-pupil, the great and valiant champion of the west, Ferdia, son of Daman, called of all men the ‘Horn-Skin,’ so tough and strong for fight is he, so hard to pierce or wound with sword or spear. Beware of him, it may be even the Gae Bolga will not avail to harm the flesh of Ferdia.” ”

“ New boys, grown out of babyhood, played the old sports, lads brave and manly as those of other days; but older men, passing, would shake their heads and wipe away a tear, for still the shadow of the tragedy that met the boy-corps at the ford hung over them. And many a mother wept at night remembering a bright boy, her pride and darling, swept away contending for Cuchulain and for Ulster against the warriors of Meave.
From time to time, in days of peace, the chiefs of Ulster, each in his turn, made a feast for Conor and the nobles in his company, the famous Champions of the Red Branch. ”

“ Ferdia replied, “though together we have learned the secrets of knowledge, and though I have listened now to thy recital of our bonds of fellowship, it is from me that thy first wounds shall come; think not upon our old comradeship, O Hound, for it shall not profit thee; O Hound, it shall not profit thee. We lose our time in this wise; let us choose our weapons and begin. What arms shall we use to-day, O Cuchulain?”
“It is thine to choose our arms to-day, for it was thou who first didst reach the ford.”
“Dost thou remember,” said Ferdia, “the missile weapons we used to practise with Scáth?” ”

“ But Fergus answered not, for he was standing all engrossed in watching a young stripling, lithe and radiant, who on the other side the glen was practising sling-feats, shooting at the passing birds that flew above his head, and bringing them down alive.
“Cuchulain is there before you,” Fergus said. “I see no one at all save one young lad, who seems expert in feats,” replied the Queen; “I cannot see a warrior near or far.”
“That young lad it is who has done damage to your hosts, however,” was the reply. “Is that boy, the young boy yonder, the famous hero of whom all men speak?” ”

“ So Labra bade him mount his chariot and together they passed on to the Plain of Combat, where the armies of the phantom hosts were assembled for the fight upon the morrow. On one side were the hosts of Labra, very few, but picked and chosen men in splendid garb, with arms of the best in their hands; but on the side of Senach the Spectral, as far as eye could reach on every side, rose lines of black and gloomy tents, with black pennons flying from their poles. Gaunt heroes clothed in black moved about amongst the tents, and all the horses that they rode were red as blood with fiery manes. ”

“ He caught the Grey of Macha, Cuchulain’s horse, and mounted him, and, spear and shield in hand, he rode straight up within the gates of Emain Macha. Silent and still as death was all the kingly fort. No sentinel looked forth to guard the door, no warrior strode round the deserted walls, and all within was silent as the grave, save for the weeping women and the little children’s play, and lowing of the untended cows wandering between the outer and the inner raths. ”

“ Turn now back from this fight to-day, for a fight to death it must be between us, and I have not the heart to fight against thee; my strength fails me when I think of the evil that will befall thee; turn back, turn back, O friend, for false are the promises of Finnabar and Meave.”
“O Cuchulain, gentle Hound, O valiant man, O true champion, bid me not return till the fight be done. Ill would it become me to return to Ailill and to Meave until my task be done. It is not thou who dost work me ill, O Cu of gentle ways; take the victory and fame that are thine by right, for thou art not in fault. ”

“ In every tongue this noble saying is recorded, “Fame outlives life”; but by your urgency I keep my life, when all my fame and honour is destroyed. Come death, come life, to-morrow I go forth.”
And gloomily and sadly he sat down, nor would he play or listen to the music of the bards, or hold sweet converse with the women, but all that night, till break of day, he tried and proved his weapons, and his spears and sword he polished lovingly, and he sent Laeg out to catch his chariot-steeds and bring them to the green beside the house. ”

“ Then Cuchulain said, “You wrong me, Emer, and you wrong this fairy-maid. No thought at all of harm have we, nor can any other be to me what thou hast been. Fair and pure is this maiden, and a worthy mate for any monarch in the world. Her race is noble, her mind is firm and gentle and full of lofty thoughts, no harm or evil will be found in her or me. Moreover, she is betrothed to a noble spouse, Manannan of the Ocean Waves.”
“In very truth,” said Emer, bitterly, for her heart was sore within her on account of the greatness of the love she bore Cuchulain, “it is ever so with men! ”

“ From off his helmet and the armour Scáth had given, their weapons broke and shattered in their hands; no sword would wound, no spear would pierce his skin. His chariot-steeds, like horses god-possessed, trampled their men to death; the fire breathing from their nostrils consumed all who ventured near. Thus through the hosts from side to side Cuchulain urged his steeds, and all his way was heaped and piled with dead. ”

“ Cuchulain saw his own corps swinging up the hill, brilliant in their flying plaids, all mighty men and strong. They only, among all the host, marched mournfully and sadly to their camp; no sound of music, no martial warrior-chant, rose from their lips, for they as orphans marched without a father, or as a body left without a head. Now when Cuchulain marked his own corps coming up, no words of Laeg could stay him, nor could his bands and shackles tie him down. Violently and with tremendous force he sought to rise, to greet his own battalion. ”

“ Grieve not, Cuchulain, Hound of Ulster, by whom the honour of Ulster is avenged to-day. Call not on Aiffe, O my father, for through her wiles it was that I came hither to do combat with thee; evil and cruel is that woman, and her ways are evil; for it was to avenge herself on thee because thou hadst left her that she sent me hither, that I might bring thee to death or die myself in the attempt. I am Conla thy son, indeed ”

“ Bright as the sun rising at early dawn out of the glowing east the hero’s face, giver of light and warmth to human-kind; with his long arms stretching across the sky he floods the world with light. In his right hand he bears the sword of day, though now in shades of night his face is veiled. No human eye, save his whose inward mind has pierced the realms of fairy mysteries, can see the god, when in Manannan’s helmet [145] of invisibility he comes to earth. ”

“ Well known is it that you possess the power to go away to fairy-land, where all herbs of healing are to be found, yet never have you sought a fairy herb to cure your master. Surely some warrior or wise man of Ulster might have done some heroic deed to bring him back from the sore sickness in which he lies! Had Fergus or Conall been sick or wounded, or had they lost their sleep, or had King Conor been bound down in enchanted slumber as now Cuchulain is, short would have been the time till Cuchulain would have done some mighty deed or have sought some magic means of healing them. ”

“ The Whitehorned heard his bellowing and came to meet him, and when they saw each other, straightway with terrific force they rushed together.
A paroxysm of exceeding fury came upon them, and up and down they moved, their nostrils distended and with lowered horns, pushing and driving and goring, until the ground was red with blood and the sods torn up and flung on high. Had any ventured near them, he would without doubt have been crushed to death beneath their hoofs; and when night came, no one in all the country dared to sleep, for terror at the bellowing and noise they made. ”

“ Above the hunting-lodge, on the grassy slope that is at the foot of the cascade, they built a sunny summer home for Deirdre, and they called it the ‘Grianan,’ or sunny bower of Deirdre. It was thatched on the outside with the long-stalked fern of the dells and the red clay of the pools, and lined within with the pine of the mountains and the downy feathers of the wild birds; and round it was the apple-garden of Clan Usna, with the apple-tree of Deirdre in its midst and the apple-trees of Naisi and Ainle and Arden encircling it. ”