Chapter 12

"Thine is the choice of weapons until the night," said Ferdia. "Then," said Cuchulain, "let us try the Feat of the Ford."[FN#58] "Let us do so indeed," said Ferdia; but although he thus spoke, it was with sorrow that he consented, for he knew that Cuchulain had ever destroyed every hero and champion who had contended with him at the Feat of the Ford.

[FN#58] i.e. in which all weapons were allowed.

Mighty were the deeds that were done upon that day at the ford by those two heroes, the champions of the west of Europe; by those two hands which in the north-west of the world were those that best bestowed bounty, and pay, and reward; those twin loved pillars of valour of the Gael; those two keys of the bravery of the Gaels, brought to fight from afar, owing to the urging and the intermeddling of Ailill and Maev. From the dawn till the middle of the day, each began to shoot at the other with his massive weapons; and when midday had come, the wrath of the two men became more furious, and each drew nearer to the other. And then upon a time Cuchulain sprang from the shore of the ford, and he lit upon the boss of the shield of Ferdia the son of Daman, the son of Dare, to strike at his head from above, over the rim of his shield. And then it was that Ferdia gave the shield a blow of his left elbow, and he cast Cuchulain from him like a bird, till he came down again, upon the shore of the ford. And again Cuchulain sprang from the shore of the ford, till he lit upon the boss of the shield of Ferdia the son of Daman, the son of Dare, to strike his head from above, over the rim of the shield. And Ferdia, gave the shield a stroke of his left knee, and he cast Cuchulain from him like a little child, till he came down on the shore of the ford.

Laeg saw what had been done. "Ah!" said Laeg, "the warrior who is against thee, casts thee away as a loose woman casts her child; he flings thee as high as the river flings its foam; he grinds thee even as a mill would grind fresh malt; pierces thee as the axe would pierce the oak that it fells; binds thee as the woodbine binds the tree; darts upon thee even as the hawk darts upon little birds, so that never until time and life shall end, shalt thou have a call, or right, or claim for prowess or for valour: thou little fairy phantom!" said Laeg. Up sprang Cuchulain, swift as the wind; quick as the swallow; fiery as the dragon; powerful as the lion; and he bounded into the air for the third time into the troubled clouds of it, until he lit upon the boss of the shield of Ferdia, the son of Daman, striving to strike his head from above, over the rim of the shield. And the warrior shook his shield, and he threw Cuchulain from him, into the middle of the ford, just as if he had never been cast off at all.

And then for the first time the countenance of Cuchulain was changed, and he rose in his full might, as if the air had entered into him, till he towered as a terrible and wonderful giant, with the hero-light playing about his head; rising as a wild man of the sea; that great and valiant champion, till he overtopped Ferdia. And now so closely were they locked in the fight, that their heads met above them, and their feet below them; and in their middles met their arms over the rims and the bosses of their shields. So closely were they locked in the fight, that they turned and bent, and shivered their spears from the points to the hafts; and cleft and loosened their shields from the centres to the rims. So closely were they locked, that the Bocanachs, and the Bananachs, and the wild people of the glens, and the demons of the air screamed from the rims of their shields, and from the hilts of their swords, and from the hafts of their spears. And so closely did they fight, that they cast the river from its bed and its course, so that there might have been a couch fit for a king and a queen to he in, there in the midst of the ford, for there was no drop of water left in it, except such as fell therein from off those two heroes and champions, as they trampled and hewed at each other in the midst of the ford. And so fierce was their fight, that the horses of the Gaels, in fear and in terror, rushed away wildly and madly, bursting their chains, and their yokes, and their tethers, and their traces; and the women, and the common folk, and the followers of the camp, fled south-westwards out of the camp.

All this time they fought with the edges of their swords. And then it was that Ferdia found Cuchulain for a moment off his guard, and he struck him with the straight edge of his sword, so that it sank into his body, till the blood streamed to his girdle, and the soil of the ford was crimson with the blood that fell from the body of that warrior so valiant in fight. And Cuchulain's endurance was at an end, for Ferdia continually struck at him, not attempting to guard, and his downright blows, and quick thrusts, and crushing strokes fell constantly upon him, till Cuchulain demanded of Laeg the son of Riangabra to deliver to him the Gae-Bulg. Now the manner of using the Gae-Bulg was this: it was set with its end pointing down a stream, and was cast from beneath the toes of the foot: it made the wound of one spear on entering a person's body; but it had thirty barbs to open behind, and it could not be drawn out from a man's body until he was cut open. And when Ferdia heard mention of the Gae-Bulg, he made a stroke of his shield downwards to guard the lower part of his body. And Cuchulain thrust his unerring thorny spear off the centre of his palm over the rim of the shield, and through his breast covered by horny defensive plates of armour, so that its further half was visible behind him after piercing the heart in his chest. Ferdia gave an upward stroke of his shield to guard the upper part of his body, though too late came that help, when the danger was past. And the servant set the Gae-Bulg down the stream, and Cuchulain caught it between the toes of his foot, and he threw it with an unerring cast against Ferdia, and it broke through the firm deep apron of wrought iron, and it burst the great stone that was as large as a millstone into three parts, and it passed through the protection of his body into him, so that every crevice and cavity in him was filled with its barbs. "'Tis enough now," said Ferdia. "I have my death of that; and I have but breath enough to say that thou hast done an ill deed against me. It was not right that thy hand should be that by which I should fall." And thus did he cry, as he gasped out these words:

Hound, of feats so fair![FN#59] Death from thee is ill: Thou the blame must bear, Thou my blood dost spill.

Help no wretch hath found Down this chasm of woe: Sick mine accents sound, As a ghost, I go.

Torn my ribs, and burst, Gore my heart hath filled: This of fights is worst, Hound! thou hast me killed.

[FN#59] The metre is that of the Irish.

And after those words, Cuchulain ran towards him, and with his arms and armour about him, carried him northwards across the ford, in order that the slain man might be on the north side of the ford, and not upon the western side together with the men of Erin. Then Cuchulain laid Ferdia down, and there it was that a trance and a faint and a weakness came upon Cuchulain when he saw the body of Ferdia, Laeg saw his weakness, and the men of Ireland all arose to come upon him. "Rise up now, O Cuchulain!" said Laeg, "for the men of Erin are coming towards us, and no single combat will they give to us, since Ferdia the son of Daman, the son of Dare, has fallen by thy hand."

"How shall I be the better for arising, O my servant!" said he, "now that he who lieth here hath fallen by me?" And it was in this manner that his servant spoke to him, and he recited these words, and thus did Cuchulain reply:

Laeg

Now arise, Battle-Hound of Emania! It is joy and not grief should be sought; For the leader of armies, Ferdia, Thou hast slain, and hard battle hast fought.

Cuchulain

What availeth me triumph or boasting? For, frantic with grief for my deed, I am driven to mourn for that body That my sword made so sorely to bleed.

Laeg

'Tis not thou shouldst lament for his dying, Rejoicing should spring to thy tongue; For in malice, sharp javelins, flying For thy wounding and bleeding he flung.

Cuchulain

I would mourn, if my leg he had severed, Had he hewn through this arm that remains, That he mounts not his steeds; and for ever In life, immortality gains.

Laeg

To the dames of Red Branch thou art giving More pleasure that thus he should fall: They will mourn for him dead, for thee living, Nor shall count of thy victims be small.

Great Queen Maev thou hast chased, and hast fought her Since the day when first Cualgne was left; She shall mourn for her folk, and their slaughter, By thy hand of her champions bereft.

Neither sleep nor repose hast thou taken, But thy herd, her great plunder, hast chased, Though by all but a remnant forsaken, Oft at dawn to the fight thou didst haste.

Now it was in that place that Cuchulain commenced his lament and his moan for Ferdia, and thus it was that he spoke:

"O my friend Ferdia! unhappy was it for thee that thou didst make no inquiry from any of the heroes who knew of the valorous deeds I had done before thou camest to meet me in that battle that was too hard for thee! Unhappy was it for thee that thou didst not inquire from Laeg, the son of Riangabra[FN#60] about what was due from thee to a comrade. Unhappy was it for thee that thou didst not ask for the honest and sincere counsel of Fergus. Unhappy it was for thee that thou hast not sought counsel from the comely, the fresh-coloured, the cheery, the victorious Conall about what was due from thee to a comrade. Well do these men know, that never, till life and time come to an end, shall be born in the land of Connaught one who shall do deeds equal to those which have been done by thee. And if thou hadst made inquiry from these men concerning the habitations, the gatherings, the promises, and the broken faith of the fair-haired ladies of Connaught; hadst thou asked them concerning spear-play and sword-play; concerning skill in backgammon and chess; concerning feats with horses, and chariots of war; they would have said that never had been found the arm of a champion who could wound a hero's flesh like the arm of Ferdia; he whose colour matched the tints of the clouds: none who like thee could excite the croak of the bloody-mouthed vulture, as she calls her friends to the feast of the many-coloured flocks; none who shall fight for Croghan or be the equal of thee to the end of life and time, O thou ruddy-cheeked son of Daman!" said Cuchulain. And then Cuchulain stood over Ferdia. "Ah! Ferdia," said Cuchulain, "great was the treachery and desertion that the men of Ireland had wrought upon thee, when they brought thee to combat and fight with me. For it was no light matter to combat and fight with me on the occasion of the Tain bo Cuailnge." And thus it was that he spoke, and he then recited these words:

[FN#60] Pronounced Reen-gabra.

'Twas guile to woe that brought thee; 'Tis I that moan thy fate; For aye thy doom hath caught thee, And here, alone, I wait.

To Scathach, glorious mother, Our words, when boys, we passed; No harm for each from other Should come while time should last.

Alas! I loved thee dearly, Thy speech; thy ruddy face; Thy gray-blue eyes, so clearly That shone; thy faultless grace.

In wrath for strife advances No chief; none shield can rear To piercing storm of lances Of Daman's son the peer.

Since he whom Aife[FN#61] bore me By me was slain in fight, No champion stood before me Who matched Ferdia's might.

He came to fight, thus trusting Might Findabar be won; Such hopes have madmen, thrusting With spears at sand or sun.

[FN#61] Pronounced Eefa. See note on this line.

Still Cuchulain continued to gaze upon Ferdia. And now, O my friend Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "strip for me the body of Ferdia, and take from him his armour and his garments, that I may see the brooch for the sake of which he undertook this combat and fight." Then Laeg arose, and he stripped Ferdia; he took his armour and his garments from him, and Cuchulain saw the brooch, and he began to lament and to mourn for him, and he spake these words:

Ah! that brooch of gold![FN#62] Bards Ferdia knew: Valiantly on foes With hard blows he flew.

Curling golden hair, Fair as gems it shone; Leaflike sash, on side Tied, till life had gone.

[FN#62] The metre and the rhyme-system is that of the Irish. See notes, p. 196.

Comrade, dear esteemed! Bright thy glances beamed: Chess play thine, worth gold: Gold from shield rim gleamed.

None of friend had deemed Could such tale be told! Cruel end it seemed: Ah! that brooch of gold!

"And now, O my friend Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "open the body of Ferdia, and take the Gae-Bulg out of him, for I cannot afford to be without my weapon." Laeg came, and he opened Ferdia's body, and he drew the Gae-Bulg out of him, and Cuchulain saw his weapon all bloody and red by the side of Ferdia, and then he spake these words:

Ferdia, I mourn for thy dying, Thou art pale, although purple with gore: Unwashed is my weapon still lying, And the blood-streams from out of thee pour.

Our friends in the East who have seen us, When with Uathach and Scathach[FN#63] we dwelled, Can bear witness, no quarrel between us Or with words or with weapons was held.

Scathach came; and to conflict inciting Were her accents that smote on mine ear; "Go ye all, where a swift battle fighting, German wields his green terrible spear!

To Ferdia, I flew with the story, To the son of fair Baitan I sped, And to Lugaid, whose gifts win him glory, "Come ye all to fight German," I said.

[FN#63] Pronounced Ooha and Scaha.

Where the land by Loch Formay lies hollowed Had we come, fit for fight was the place; And beside us four hundred men followed; From the Athisech Isles was their race.

As beside me Ferdia contended Against German, at door of his dun; I slew Rind, who from Niul[FN#64] was descended, I slew Rood, of Finnool was he son.

[FN#64] Pronounced Nyool.

'Twas Ferdia slew Bla by the water, Son of Cathbad red-sworded was he: And from Lugaid Mugarne gat slaughter, The grim lord of the Torrian sea.

Four times fifty men, stubborn in battle, By my hand in that gateway were slain; To Ferdia, of grim mountain cattle Fell a bull, and a bull from the plain.

Then his hold to the plunderers giving, Over ocean waves spangled with foam, Did we German the wily, still living, To the broad-shielded Scathach bring home.

There an oath our great mistress devising, Both our valours with friendship she bound; That no anger betwixt us uprising Should 'mid Erin's fair nations be found.

Much of woe with that Tuesday was dawning, When Ferdia's great might met its end; Though red blood-drink I served him that morning: Yet I loved, though I slew him, my friend.

If afar thou hadst perished when striving With the bravest of heroes of Greece, 'Tis not I would thy loss be surviving; With thy death should the life of me cease.

Ah! that deed which we wrought won us sorrow, Who, as pupils, by Scathach were trained: Thou wilt drive not thy chariot to-morrow; I am weak, with red blood from me drained.

Ah! that deed which we wrought won us anguish, Who, as pupils, by Scathach were taught: Rough with gore, and all wounded, I languish; Thou to death altogether art brought.

Ah! that deed that we wrought there was cruel For us pupils, from Scathach who learned: I am strong; thou art slain in the duel, In that conflict, with anger we burned.

"Come now, Cuchulain," said Laeg, "and let us quit this ford, for too long have we been here." "Now indeed will we depart, O my friend Laeg!" said Cuchulain, "but every other combat and fight that I have made hath been only a game and a light matter to me compared with this combat and fight with Ferdia." Thus it was that he spoke; and in this fashion he recited:

Wars were gay, and but light was fray[FN#65] Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay: Like had we both been taught, Both one kind mistress swayed; Like the rewards we sought, Like was the praise she paid.

[FN#65] Metre and rhyme-system of the Irish imitated, but not exactly reproduced.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay: Like were our fights, oft fought, Like were our haunts in play; Scathach to each of us brought A shield one day.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay: Pillar of gold, loved well, Low at the Ford's side laid; He, when on troops he fell, Valour unmatched displayed.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay: Lionlike, on he sped; High, in his wrath, he blazed; Rose, as a wave of dread; Ruin his onset raised.

Wars were gay, and but light was fray Ere at the Ford his steeds made stay: Never, till hour of doom, Ferdia's form shall fade; High as a cliff it loomed, Now is but left his shade.

Three great armies went this Raid,[FN#66] All the price of death have paid; Choicest cattle, men, and steeds Lie in heaps, to tell my deeds.

[FN#66] The metre is that of the Irish.

Widely spread their battle-line, Less than half their host was mine; Though to war stout Croghan came, All I slew, for me a game!

None the battle neared like thee, None of all whom Banba nursed Passed thy fame; on land, on sea, Thou, of sons of kings, art first!

SPECIAL NOTE

ON THE "COMBAT AT THE FORD"

The episode translated in the foregoing pages is not only one of the famous examples on which Irish literature can fairly rest its claim to universal recognition, but it also affords an excellent instance of the problems involved when it comes to be studied critically. These problems, upon the solution of which must to some extent depend our estimate of the place of Irish in the general development of European literature) axe briefly dealt with in Mr. Leahy's Preface, as well as in his special Introduction (supra, pp. 114, 115), but may perhaps be thought worthy of somewhat more detailed examination.

The existence of two markedly different versions of the "Tain bo Cuailnge," one, obviously older, represented by the eleventh-century MS. Leabhar na h-Uidhri (L.U.), and the fourteenth-century MS. Yellow Book of Lecan (Y.B.L.); the other, obviously younger, by the twelfth-century Book of Leinster (L.L.), was pointed out by Professor Heinrich Zimmer twenty-seven years ago in his study of the L.U. heroic saga texts (Keltische Studien V.: Zeitschrift für vergleichende Sprachforschung, vol. xxviii.). The conclusion that he drew from the fact, as also from the peculiarities disclosed by his analysis of the L.U. texts, is substantially that stated by Mr. Leahy: "On the whole it seems as if the compiler of the manuscript from which both the Leabhar na h-Uidhri and the Yellow Book of Lecan were copied, combined into one several different descriptions of the 'War,' one of which is represented by the Book of Leinster version." He furthermore emphasised a particular aspect of this compiler's activity to which Mr. Leahy also draws repeated attention; he (the compiler) was a man interested in the historical and antiquarian rather than in the literary side of the texts he harmonised and arranged: hence his preference for versions that retain archaic and emphasise mythical elements; hence his frequent interpolation of scraps of historical and antiquarian learning; hence his indifference to consistency in the conduct of the story, and to its artistic finish. Professor Zimmer urged that the "compiler" was no other than Flann, Abbot of Monasterboice, who died in 1047, and was regarded as the most famous representative of Irish learning in his day. There has come down to us under his name a considerable mass of chronological and historical writing, partly in prose, partly in verse, and it seems certain that he was one of the chief artisans in framing that pragmatic redaction of Irish myth, heroic legend, and historical tradition most fully represented by the two great compilations of the seventeenth century: the Annals of the Four Masters, emphasising its antiquarian, historical side; Keating's History, emphasising its romantic, legendary side.

Whilst Professor Zimmer's conclusion as to the personality of the L.U. compiler has been challenged, his main thesis has remained unshaken. On the whole, it can be asserted positively that the common source of L.U. and Y.B.L. goes back to the early eleventh century; on the whole, that this common source itself utilised texts similar to those contained in the Book of Leinster. Moreover, the progress of linguistic analysis during the past quarter-century has strengthened the contention that some of the elements used by Flann (or another) in compiling his eleventh-century harmony are as old, in point of language, as any existing remains of Irish outside the Ogham inscriptions; in other words, being as old as the earliest glosses, they may date back to the eighth or even seventh century. In particular the L.U.-Y.B.L. version of the "Tain bo Cuailnge" contains a large proportion of such elements and may, in the main, be treated as an eighth-century text.

It must, however, be pointed out, and for this reason I have italicised the qualifying "on the whole," "in the main," that this conclusion does not enable us to declare dogmatically (1) that all portions of the L.U.-Y.B.L. version must go back to the eighth century; (2) that all portions of the Book of Leinster version must precede the compilation of the common source of L.U. and Y.B.L. For as regards (1), not only must the definitely ascertained activity of the eleventh-century compiler be taken into account, but also the possible activity of later scribes. If we possessed the complete text of the L.U.-Y.B.L. redaction in both MSS., we could at least be sure concerning the possible variations introduced during the two centuries that elapsed between the writing of the Yellow Book (early fourteenth century) and that of L.U. (late eleventh century). But most unfortunately both MSS. are imperfect, the Yellow Book at the opening, L.U. at the close of our tale. Thus of the special episode under consideration, the "Combat at the Ford," the older redaction is only extant in the fourteenth-century MS., and it is always open to impugners of its archaic character to say that it has been introduced there from the rival Leinster version. Again, as regards (2), whilst it is practically certain that the great mass of the Leinster version was in existence before the time of the source whence both L.U. and Y.B.L. are derived, and must therefore date back to the early eleventh century, it is by no means certain that this version was not considerably altered and enlarged before it came to be written down in the Book of Leinster some time before 1154.