Patrick set off together with his followers and went north from the great Mairtine of Munster in the south to Limerick of the Ulstermen, through the Wood of the Packs, now called Cretsalach to the Mount of the Egg of the King, to the Mountain of Echtga, the daughter of Nuadu Argatlam ‘of the Silver Arm’ [Slieve Aughty], and to the Post of Cepan on Slieve Aughty, where Cepan, son of Morna, had died.
From there they went to the Lake of the Short Cow, now called the Lake of Grian, daughter of Fionn, to the Speckled Land, now called the Land of Maine, and to Loch Linngdeth, now called Lough Croan.
The King of Connaught,Muiredach Mor *the Great’, son of Fionnachta,* was waiting there for Patrick. A tent was set up for Patrick and his clerics, and the nobles of the province of Connaught approached and did homage to Patrick, putting their heads in his lap.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The Boyhood deeds of Oscar
Patrick then left the tent and sat on an earthen mound. Cailte went with him and said, ‘On this spot, holy Patrick, Oscar, the son of Oisin, fought his first battle.’ ‘For what reason?’ asked Patrick. ‘Because of his love for Niamh, the daughter of Aed Donn “the Dark”, the King of Ulster, the son of Fergus Fionn “the Fair”,’ said Cailte.
‘She had been betrothed to Aed, the son of the King of Connaught, who was Fidach, son of Fionntan, and was married off to him. Aed lacked sufficient troops to give battle to Oscar, or to the Fian, so he asked the King of Ireland, Cormac, the grandson of Conn, for reinforcements. Cormac brought the four provinces of Ireland with him to do battle against the Fian and the battle for that woman was fought here on this plain.
Oscar’s first exploits occurred in that battle, as Fionn said in this poem:
“Rise up, Oscar, and show them who you are.
Though heroes stand before you, a hundred keep at bay.
“Charge back and forth, till their necks be headless.
Seize your fine green shield, grasp your sharpened sword.
“Take shield and javelins from the warrior you have slain.
Take a cuirass to shield you, that your onset may not fail.34
“A great event for me, with witnesses at hand.
The giving of my child, at the age of nine.
“One shall never come, better of hand or oath.
No spear shaft that further shall penetrate a man.
‘Woe to the man to whom he bears his sharpened sword.
When angrily his arm strikes in fierce attack.” ‘
Then Cailte recited the following poem:
‘Oscar’s first victories, Ulster’s haughty ruler.
Then the King of Leinster, and Connaught’s valiant lord.
‘Aed, son of Fidach, son of Fionntan, came next to the attack.
Oscar left him headless, after a lengthy struggle.
‘ Aed Donn, King of Ulster, fierce son of Fergus Fionn,
With shield and cruel sword, likewise by Oscar slain.
‘Brave Baetan, son of Fer Narb, Leinster’s mighty king,
Despite his ample valour, quickly met his death.
‘The wise and dear companion of Oscar, royal and fair,
Bold Linne, Ligne’s son, Oscar, in error, slew.
‘Brightly attired Niam came to view the strife.
The fierce battle’s tide turned on the radiant queen.
‘I shall tell you of her champion, her hero of swift blows,
No more generous hero bestrode a horse.
‘I shall tell you of him, dear Patrick, a true account,
Great was his royal fury, his early deeds not small.’
‘May you have victory and blessing, Cailte,’ said Patrick, ‘and
where is Broccan. Let the story be written out by him, so that it may entertain the chieftains of later times.’ Broccan wrote the story down.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The death of Airnelach
‘Well, good Cailte,’ said Patrick, ‘whose grave lies in the hill on which we are standing.?’ ‘It is the grave of a warrior of the Fianna of Ireland who died here,’ said Cailte, ‘Airnelach, who was the son of Admallan, King of Leinster.
A poet came here with a verse for him and recited it. “My dear poet,” said Airnelach, “grant me a delay until I may have my treasure and wealth brought here.” “By no means,” said the poet. “I will not grant it, but will satirize and slander you if I am not given payment on this very day.” When Airnelach heard that he put his face to the earth and did not raise it again, and thus died from shame. This green-clad mound was raised over him, and the stone against which, holy Patrick, you now rest your back was placed above his head.’
Cailte then recited the following poem:
‘The grave under Lodan’s stone, the grave of a man of proud birth,
Small grave of a glorious soldier, Airnelach, son of Admallan.’
‘May he gain Heaven through me,’ said Patrick, ‘as a recompense for his shame, and may he be taken from punishment.’ His soul was released from suffering at that very moment and he appeared as a white dove on the stone column above Patrick’s head.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the death of Salbuide
‘Who, Cailte,’ asked Patrick, ‘is buried in the southern end of this mound?’ ‘Salbuide, who was the son of Feidlecar, King of Munster, died here, together with thirty’ hounds, thirty boys, and thirty warriors, while pursuing a deer of the sid and this mound was raised over them.’
Cailte then recited the following poem:
‘Buried in this southern end, is Salbuide of the poets.
With fifty chains of silver, not a small amount.’
‘We would be most happy’, said Benen,’ to get his treasure.’ ‘You shall have it,’ said Cailte, and he opened the grave. It was full of armrings as far down as his spear shaft could reach. ‘You gave Heaven to a man for his honour just now,’ said Benen, ‘give this other man Heaven for his treasure.’ ‘It shall be done,’ said Patrick.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the downfall of the Fianna
It was then that Patrick asked Cailte, ‘What caused the destruction of all your Fian? ‘The two battles that we fought at the end,’ said Cailte, ‘the battle of Gabair and the battle of Ollarba. We came in our three battalions to give battle at the Estuary- of Ollarba, and only six hundred of us came away.
Until then Fionn had always had confidence in the Fian, whether in battle or combat, but on this occasion he was struck by the loss of the chiefs, lords, and champions, and the soldiers and retainers that fell in these battles.’
Cailte then recited the poem of Fionn:
‘Tally up our numbers, no harm for you to know.
Here we shall have a fine battle, whether we win or lose.
‘Unjust of Fothad to tight me, a good day when he makes peace.
Not by the will of Lugaid mac Con does Fothad now oppose me.
‘Slowly I go to battle, even though I must.
Glorious my progress to Dubthir in Dal nAraide.
‘Six score and eight men, each was worthy of me.
Were killed at Lisardowhn, with Donngus, son of Lanamain.
‘The Fian waged three hundred battles from north to south to west.
But never yet fought a battle mixed with such great sorrow.
‘The host who come from us, its two numbers would find us
If they held the field today, Fothad would not be found.’
‘May you have victory and blessing, dear Cailte,’ said Patrick. ‘You have told us in this poem much that is good. Write it dow’n, Broccan,’ said Patrick. And he did.
Then Cainen, son of Failbe, son of Fergus, son of Eoghan Mor ‘the Great’, asked of Cailte, ‘Where did Ailill Olam “the Bare-Eared’ the son of Mug Nuadat, die.’ Cailte answered, ‘He died on the top of the Mount of Claire in the south from great loss of blood.’ ‘And where did Sadb, daughter of Conn, die.” ‘Sadb, daughter of Conn, died in Tara of the Kings,’ said Cailte, ‘grieving for her well-loved son, Mac Con.’
‘Where did Ferchis the Poet, son of Coman, die:’ asked Cainen. Cailte said, ‘Ferchis was killed on the top of the Galtee Mountains by the hard, holly spear that Ael, son of Dergdub, threw at a deer.’
‘And the seven handsome sons of Aihll,’ asked Cainen, son of Failbe, ‘where did they die.” Cailte answered, ‘It was Benne Brit who killed them in the great battle of the Plain of Mucrama, as they fled from the host of Mac Con.’
‘Why is the ford on this great, level plain called the Ford of the Fall.” asked Cainen. Cailte answered, ‘Connla Derg “the Red” from the the Hill of Dian there killed Fiacha Muillethan “of the Broad Crown”, son of Eoghan, and for that reason is it called the Ford of the Fall.’ Cailte recited the following lines:
‘The ford is the Ford of the Fall, that all might know the cause.
That Connla there struck down, good Fiacha of the Broad Crown.’
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the Battle of Samhain
‘And the battle of Samhain,’ asked Cainen, ‘who fought and per-
ished there.” ‘Cormac Cas “the Curly”, son of Aiilll Olam “Bare-Eared”, attacked Eochaid Abratruad “of the Red Eyelashes”, the King of Ulster in the north. Eochaid died there, and Cormac Cas was wounded and remained ill for thirteen years. His brains were leaking, but he held the kingship of Munster during this time.
A stronghold and a fine residence were built for him at Dun ar Sleib “the Fortress on the Mountain”. This fortress had a clear and pleasant natural well in its foundations and a great royal dwelling was built for him around it. Three stone pillars were erected around this well, and the king’s bed was placed within them, with its head to the east.
A trusted household warrior kept bathing his wound with water from a cup or a basin. He died there afterwards and was buried in a vault under the fortress. For this reason it is also called Dun Trí Liacc “the Fortress of the Three Pillars” [Duntryleague].’
Cailte then said, ‘Cainen, this is the tale you asked of me.’ Then Cailte recited the following verse:
‘A pleasant fortress in the east, now called Dun Eochair.
More pleasant still, at break of day, are Sadb’s and Ailill’s graves.
‘Sadb died grieving her son, Mac Con, slain by Ferchis’ cast.
From the band about him, Ailill from sickness died.
‘Faultless Eoghan Mor was killed at Mucrama, a sad event.
A blade flashed in combat, Cormac Cas was slain.
‘And Fiacha, Eoghan’s son, suffered worthy wounds, Struck down by Connla, cruelly at Athlone.
‘Here the battle o Samhain was, then the Ulstermen took flight.
Cormac perished in this fight, slaughtered was Ulster’s king.
‘And many wounds afflicted there the son of the King of Fid Findlis
And yet his fame will not soon die, cold water soothed his heavy pains.
‘Each day to the stream he came, the son of Ailill, Cormac Cas,
The benefit was pleasant for him, the journey to clear Field Stream.
‘He went from there to Dun ar Sleib to mend at his father’s fort.
Three columns of stone were erected there to ease the pain of his fair head.
‘Dun Tri Liacc from these three stones, the fortress now is named.
This is its name for ever more, after Cormac, chief of Clare.
‘The son of the King of Munster died from his wounds and in
great pain.
His cold and pleasant bed was laid within that fortress, bright and fair.’
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the death (and resurrection) of Aed, son of Muiredach
The King of Connaught at that time was Muiredach, son of Finnachta, and he had a beloved son named Aed. The boys of the province of Connaught had organized a hurling match, and Aed, all by himself, scored six goals against the other boys. He then sat down and was struck by a severe attack of a fatal illness and died on the spot.
This was told to his family and to his mother, Aife, the daughter of the King of Ulster. The women of the province made a great lament for the death of this little boy, and his mother said that the child should be put in the arms of Patrick, to whom God had entrusted the whole of Ireland, with the power to cure all of its inhabitants.
‘I would consider that a great disgrace,’ said the King of Connaught, should he be unwilling.’ Patrick was sent for and the king remained in his tent, together with his retainers and the dead boy, wrapped in a down quilt and a fringed blanket with a fair purple cowl over his face.
When Saint Patrick heard that his mother, his foster-brothers, and his own sister had said that they would die of grief, he felt great pity and his heart went out to them. A long golden basin, filled with water, was then brought to Patrick. He blessed the water and placed it in a finely worked cup of white silver. The holy man then went and lifted the fair purple cowl and put three drops of water in the mouth of Aed, son of Muiredach. As the third drop reached his mouth he sat up completely cured, and put his hand over his mouth, as if waking after being with a woman or after heavy drinking, and got up from his bed.
All were overjoyed and put their trust in God. Laying their heads in Patrick’s lap, they gave their treasures and their goods, their riches and their plunder, their cattle-herds, horses and their horse-teams, their arm-rings and their other wealth into the power of Patrick.
The host stayed there for the night and on the following morning they all went to the Poor Field, now called the Plain of Fionn, and then to the Causeway of the Troop of Women, now called the Causeway of Fionn. From there they continued to the south of the Wood of the Kin-Slaying, now called the Forest of Comman [Roscommon], where the nine sons of Uar, son of Indast, had killed each other, for which reason it was called the Wood of Kin-Slaying.
They then continued on to the Fort of Glas, now called the Fort of Brenainn [Rathbrennan]. A tent was erected there for the King of Connaught, and Patrick and Cailte went and sat on an earthen mound by the perimeter of the fort. The King of Connaught came with a number of his men and sat close to them.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the naming of the hill of Glas interrupted
Muiredach, son of Fionnachta, then asked Cailte, ‘Why is this fort called the Fort of Glas.’ ‘I shall tell you,’ said Cailte. ‘Glas, who was the son of Drecan, King of Lochlainn in the north, came here with twenty-five battalions to seize the Kingship of Ireland. They arrived at the Castle of the Mighty Stag, now called the Fortress of Rosarach. Fionn mac Cumaill was at that time at Almu [the Hill of Allen] in Leinster.’
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The naming of Almu
Muiredach, son of Fionnachta, then asked Cailte, ‘Why is it called Almu’ Cailte answered, ‘Bracan, a warrior of the Tuatha De Danann, dwelt in the dew-covered and dappled Bruig and had a virgin daughter. Alma by name. Cumall, son of Trenmor, wed her and she died bearing his son. This green-surfaced mound was raised over her, and from her is the mound named.
It was previously called the Mound of the Surveying. Or Alma was the name of the one who held it in the time of Neimed. Or else Nuadu Drúi “the Druid” built a fort and stronghold there, and took a herd {alma) from the fort, so that it is called Alma from this.’
Cailte then recited this verse:
‘Almu in Leinster, the Fians stronghold, familiar spot to generous Fionn.
This, according to every sage, is the reason for its name.
Almu the name of its master, in Nemed’s time with mighty fame.
He died yonder on the green hill, quickly of a sudden plague.
‘A clever Fir Bolg warrior, Luchna, the fellow’s name.
The fort was full, both east and west, of his cattle and his herds.
‘His cattle with their thirst went to drink from a spring.
Thirst drove them to batthng and they left behind their horns.
‘The horns of the white and brown cattle were scattered about the spring.
From these the place is named, the Horns of the Great Cows of luchna.
‘There were five daughters of luchna, of the warrior, fierce and skilful.
From these are named the lands that they possessed.
‘Carman in rugged Carman, with whom bards briefly dwelled,
Treg’s wife in his mighty house, generous with all.
‘The Liffey Plain, of the colour of gold, went to the great and
skilful woman.
For me the story is not false, and Almu, the fifth of these.
‘Nuadu Drúi, fearsome man, by him a firm, high fort was
made.
In Almu here with crystal bright, as rampart for his mighty fort.
‘Pure white the fort, through fierce attacks, as though all Ireland’s lime were used.
From the herd he brought from his house, from this the name of Almu springs.’
‘Well have you told that story, Cailte,’ said Muiredach, son of Fionnachta.
‘We were there,’ said Cailte, ‘in Almu in Leinster when news of this fleet came to us. Spréd Aithinne “Firebrand” was the one who brought the news, the daughter of Mugna Mianchraesach “the Eagerly Greedy”. She was the Horse-Messenger of the King of Ireland who sent her to Fionn. Fionn at once sent envoys and messengers to assemble the Fianna of Ireland and Scotland. Cormac, the grandson of Conn, gathered together the tribes of Tara and the hosts of Brega, and the great host of the men of Ireland.
They came in twenty-five battalions to this plain, and lots were cast between the Fian and the landholders to determine which of them should first give battle to the foreigners. It fell to the Fian to give battle.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The naming of the hill of Glas finished
The battle went on for seven days and fifteen hundred were killed, of the foreigners and of the Irish. After that a final battle took place and Glas was slain by Fionn mac Cumaill, and his seven sons were killed by the Fian. One hundred and fifty of us went with Fionn to fight that battle and each of us slew fifty. Three of us from the Fian went with Fionn into the tent of Glas, son of Drecan. We found there nine pillars of gold, the smallest of which was as large as an ox-yoke. We hid them in the red moor to the north of the fort.’
Cailte then recited the following poem:
‘O Fortress of Glas, where many an hour we passed,
Nine golden pillars I hid in the moor by your northern wall,
‘We were three who hid them, by our own account.
Fionn and Oisin, sturdy Cailte, we hid them all without delay,
‘Three fifties of us came, in grand array with Fionn.
Fifty we killed each day below thy walls. Rath Glais.
‘Glas, son of Drecan, was buried there, and for this reason the fort is called the Fort of Glas.’ ‘May you have victory and blessing, Cailte,’ said Patrick, ‘this is a fine tale you have told us. Come, Broccan. Write down this tale.’ He did so.
Tales of the Elders: Patrick blesses Tara Hill
They were there that night and rose early in the morning. They went off to the Chariot Course of Fergus, now called the Ridge of the Son of Connra, and to the Hill of the Kings, now called the Spring of Garad, and set up camp there. They set up a tent for Patrick, the head of the faith of the Irish, and he performed his hours and adoration.
He blessed the choice, fair-sided hill, and said, ‘This is one of the eighteen burial places that will be dear to me in Ireland.’ ‘There is the difficulty’, said the King of Connaught, ‘that no water is nearby.’ ‘If it be the will of the Lord,’ said Patrick, ‘water will be here.’ Patrick went off toward a prominent rock that he saw in the distance. Singing a prayer over it, he thrust his staff into the rock, penetrating both gravel and bed-rock, and three streams of clear water sprang up. ‘Put a blessing on the well, holy Patrick,’ said Benen. ‘Protection for a while on anyone who drinks its water,’ said Patrick, ‘and if it be one who is to die, he shall have the Heaven of the Lord.
Though all of the water of Ireland be destroyed at the end of the world, through the will of the Lord, yet shall Ireland be maintained from this well, and if this water be given three times to a sick man, there is no suffering it will not cure.’
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: Fionn Bán plays Fidchell with Goll the cyclops at Tara Hill
‘Tell us another story, Cailte,’ said Patrick. ‘I shall tell you this story,’ said Cailte, ‘how the Fian of Ireland nearly perished, man and hound, on the very hill on which you stand. Guaire Goll “the One Eyed” and Flaithius Faebrach “the Keen-Edged” were the two bearers of Fionn’s Fidchell-board. A warrior, Fionn Bán “the White”, who was the son of Bresal, King of Leinster, came to play fidchell on this hill with Guaire.
“I shall make a wager with you,” said Guaire Goll. “What sort of wager.’” asked Fionn. “Three ounces of gold from each of us for three days’ play,” said Guaire. Fionn Bán was one of the four best players of fidchell in the Fian together with Fionn mac Cumhaill, Diarmait ua Duibne “the descendant of Duibne”, and Flaithius Faebrach, bearer of the fidchell-board.
On this occasion Oisin recited these lines:
‘Fionn’s boy, Flaithius Faebrach, wonderful at fidchell.
Above the board no better hand at making moves.’
‘These two played for three days and Guaire did not win a game, and lost his wager. He heaped insult and reproach on Fionn Ban, saying that he was not a good retainer, nor a decent warrior, nor well- skilled with weapons. Fionn Bán raised his arm and struck Guaire with his fist and knocked three front teeth from his upper gum and three from his lower gum. Guaire collapsed on top of the fidchell-board.
Fionn mac Cumaill, the chief of the Fian was told of this and said, “You, Aed Mortren ‘the Great and Strong’, dear son of the Steward of Tara, find out the reason for this great tumult in the encampment of the Fian.’ The boy went off to investigate and learned what had happened. When Fionn heard of it he said, “Let Fionn Ban, son of Bresal, be killed, together with his followers.” “By no means”, said Oisin, “shall he be killed. Rather let Cailte and Diarmait ua Duibne, and Fergus Finbel ‘Wine-Mouth’, the Sage of the Fian judge for you.” These three made their judgment, and said to Fionn, “Wherever you meet the servant of Fionn Ban, you may strike him with your fist, and you shall receive a gift of an ounce of gold from every leader of a Fian of the Fianna of Ireland.” In this way peace was made.
‘Twenty years later we went to the Forest of the Guarding in the region of the Ui Thairsig “the Descendants of Tairsiu” of Leinster, now called the Ridge of Clay [Drumcree*]. The Fian went off to hunting and left behind a warrior of the Fian to guard the women.
His name was Garad, son of Morna. He was at that time well advanced in years and all of his kin were dead. The women said to him, “Well, dear Garad, do you want to play Fidchell with us.’”‘ “No, I do not,” he said. “Why not.?” they asked. He answered, “One day, when we were at the Mound of the Kings, by the Lake of the Bird in the province of Connaught …” And he told them this very story, holy Patrick.
Then one of the women said, “Was Garad not left behind with us to light a fire for us and play Fidchell with us, because he is past fighting and the weakness of age is upon him?” ”By my faith,” said Garad, “that is the speech of hostile women, and though I should long accompany the Fian they would never be true friends.”
Then he lit a great fire in the hall and bolted its seven doors. He himself went off, taking his weapons, and recited this old verse:
“Lovely women of the Fian play your fidchell yourselves.
Young ladies of the clever king, I am old, likewise my play.
“Age will soon destroy me, being as old as your fathers.
The young thorns are the sharpest, I am too old for our play.
“I recall the day at the Lake of the Bird, an old man must tell a
tale.
When all were almost slaughtered because of a single game.
“There was Guaire, Fionn’s servant, playing a skilful game.
Against Fionn Bán mac Bresail, from which the quarrel came.
“Fionn Bán was a better player than Guaire from Berra’s Stream.
Fionn Bán was four times winner, Guaire won only once.
“Great wrath grew in Guaire towards BresaiPs green-clad son.
He cast insults on Fionn Bán despite his proper play.
“Great was Fionn Bán’s shame. He quickly raised his arm.
The fist of the son of Bresal struck Guaire’s angry mouth.
“Then the famous Fian rose, noble, warlike, and brave.
Displeased that their chieftain’s servant was struck because of a game.
“Then rose Fionn Ban’s Fian and the Ftan of Cumall’s son.
And those of Cailte and Conan fair, and Oisin and Ferdoman.
“Then spoke Fionn the chieftain, ‘Look outside, my sturdy son.
Why are the Fian angry.^ What has stirred them up?’
“Fionn, your servant Guaire, the bearer of your board,
‘Because of a game ofjidchell, was struck by Bresal’s son.’
‘Tinn said, ‘Take the son of Bresal, no ransom for his head.
Let none seek to shield him, Diarmait nor Oisin nor Cailte.’
‘By your hand, most glorious Fionn, by your dignity and right,
The son of Bresal shall not die despite the bitter feud.44
‘Father, son of Cumall, hold to wisdom,’ Oisin said.
‘A prince must keep right judgment and not make groundless
threats.
‘If we should act unwisely, you must give good advice.
Let your Tooth of Wisdom chew your thumb that your judgment might be fair.
‘Take Faelchu, son of Fer Crom, Fionn Ban’s dark-haired lad.
If he slew Guaire, your servant, let his be slain by you.’
“We then went after Fionn Ban, from Fionn of fair repute.
We brought the son of Bresal to the chief of Ireland’s bands.
“Fionn mac Cumaill of Almu questioned the other Fionn.
‘What was the crime of Guaire that brought your wrath on him?’
‘Fionn, your servant Guaire, the one who carried your board,
Came in the early morning to challenge me to play.
‘I took four games from Guaire, Beobartach’s son.
Insults he cast upon me, angry at his loss.
‘Amidst the bands of Ireland grievous charges were made.
That I was a bad retainer, a clumsy coward as well.
‘Then without hesitation I raised my straight right arm,
And drove my fist against his mouth. This is the simple truth.’
‘A blessing on your mighty arm,’ said Oisin. ‘No mistake.
The striking of your servant, Fionn, was done with ample cause.
‘If you now forgive the blow, you shall have, noble prince,
A scruple of gold from each of us, it is best to hear our plea.
‘Indeed if you should wish to check your servants’ shameful ways,
Guaire, Coman, Saltran Seng, who slander Ireland’s bands.
‘Fionn the White reviled by Guaire, Coman insulted Glas,
Most evil tales did Saltran tell of Ferdoman.
‘Fionn of Rath Chro, Bresal’s son, his fist struck your servant.
Strike, lord of handsome horns, the servant of Fionn Ban.’
‘Carry my blessing to your home,’ said Fionn to Bresal’s son,
‘A just reward for Guaire’s speech, harsh words deserve harsh blows.’
‘This is the boon I ask of you, Lord of the bare-bladed band,
That servants keep, from this day on, their tongues from better men
“We took an oath there, one and all, the Fian of Cumalls son.
That servants lacking manners would quickly feel our wrath.
“It is I who am servant to you tonight, ladies, my deep respect.
As a warrior I have sworn an oath not to battle with women.
“Though we be long together, women of Almu’s Fionn,
I shall not play with you, women, as long as I may live.” ‘
May you have victory and blessing, Cailte,’ said Patrick, ‘good is
the knowledge and lore you have told us.’ The host then went to the Cairn of the Reckoning, now called the Cairn of Fraech, son of Fidach [Carnfree].
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: the Destruction of Tara Hill
Patrick went up onto the hill and said, ‘Dear Cailte, did all of the Fian believe in the King of Heaven and Earth, or did you know of His existence at all.’ Cailte answered, ‘The chief and warrior knew, for he was a wizard, a seer, and a prince. And we all understood from the destruction that we saw one night that there was a God.’ ‘What destruction was this?’ asked Patrick.
‘The King of Ireland, Cormac, son of Art, had a great household numbering two hundred, and each was the son of a king and of a queen. They were staying at the Wood of the Kings to the north-east of Tara.’
‘What wood is that.’ asked Patrick. ‘The Wood of the Forest,’ said Cailte. ‘There were a thousand of each kind of tree there, and a great royal hall for these sons of kings. Their food was not prepared there, but was brought to them from Tara. They were there one evening after feasting and pleasure. Their beds were prepared for them and they stayed there for the night.
Then Binne, the Chief Steward of Tara, came to speak with the son of the King of Ireland who was in the hall. He looked about the hall and saw that all were dead. We understood from that that there was indeed a True God, someone who had direction and power over us all.’
Then Cailte recited this verse:
‘Town of the kings, in Tara’s wood, a crowded household there,
A host of troops and horses covered its smooth-faced sides.
‘Two hundred noble kings’ sons were of this honoured house.
An equal number of women dwelled on the white-faced hill.
‘I have not seen ruin like this, O Patrick, noble and pure.
All of them perished together, all those who lived in the town.
‘These two hundred men and two hundred women were buried in the hill, so that the name of the hill has ever since been the Hill of the Slaughter. And as for the trees that were there, the earth swallowed the whole wood before our eyes, and we became aware through this of the existence of the King of Heaven and Earth,’ said Cailte.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: Cailte and Patrick part ways.
‘May you have victory and blessing, Cailte,’ said Patrick. Then Cailte said, ‘I must leave tomorrow, good and holy Patrick.’ ‘Where are you going?’ asked Patrick. ‘To search out the hills and mounds and the heights where my companions and foster-brothers, the prince-warriors and nobles of the Fian once were with me, for I am tired of being in one place.’
They stayed there that night. In the morning the whole host arose, and Cailte got up and put his head in Patrick’s lap. Patrick said, ‘You shall have Heaven from me, wherever be the place, indoors or out, where God puts his hand on you.’
Then the King of Connaught, Muiredach, son of Fionnachta, set out to proclaim his kingship and rule, and Patrick went off to preach the faith and the religious life, to expel the demons and the druids from Ireland, to choose the holy and the righteous, to erect crosses, penitential stations, and altars, and to destroy idols and spectres, and the arts of druidism.