Conall himself brought the pitcher to Patrick, and slaves carried the sow. They reached the Hill of the Top of Ercc, now called the Hill of Uisneach, at the middle of the day. Patrick was at the summit of Uisneach, with Diarmait, son of Cerball, at his right hand and Oisin, son of Fionn, at his left. The King of Connaught, Muiredach, son of Fionnachta, was next to Oisin and Eochaid LethDearg ‘the Red-Sided’ next to him.
The King of the two provinces of Munster, Eoghan LethDearg, son of Aengus, was next to Diarmait, the King of Ireland. Conall, son of Niall, came and put his head in Patrick’s lap, doing homage to him. ‘Come here, Conall,’ said Diarmait. ‘No,’ said Conall. ‘I shall be in the presence of Patrick, so that it be he who will be above me in heaven and in earth.’ ‘You shall have kingship from me,’ said Patrick, ‘and thirty of your seed shall be kings. You shall have my monastery and my abbacy as well, and shall enjoy whatever I shall get from the five great provinces of Ireland.’
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: the Colloquy between Patrick and Oisin
Conall put the golden pitcher into Patrick’s hand. ‘Your own friend, Cailte, son of Ronan, gave that gift to you,’ said Conall. ‘He is indeed a friend,’ said Patrick and handed it to the King of Ireland. He looked at for a long time and said, ‘Never have we seen a finer treasure than this pitcher.
Look at this, Oisin. Who was its owner?”My own father,’ said Oisin, ‘Fionn mac Cumaill. His wife, Berrach Brecc, daughter of Cas of Cooley, gave it to him. She was the one killed by the Sons of Morna, and I am sure’, said Oisin, ‘that the one who found this also found the other treasure that was the best in Ireland or in Scotland, “the Greyish Wand”, the sword of Fionn.’ ‘I have it here for the King of Ireland,’ said Conall.
‘You have recognized them well. Come, Donn. Bring the sword to the King of Ireland, his gift from Cailte.’ The boy handed the sword to Oisin, and Donn’s fist easily grasped the hilt of the sword. ‘I find that strange,’ said Oisin, ‘that you are able to grasp the sword-hilt. Only one of the descendants of Baiscne or of Morna should be able to wield it.’
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The colloquy between Donn and the King of Ireland.
‘Who are you, boy?’ asked the King of Ireland. ‘I am Donn, the son of Aed, the son of Garad, son of Morna.’ ‘By my word,’ said Oisin. ‘Your father and grandfather were indeed of noble stock, and though they were our enemies, we hold you dear.’ Donn handed the sword to the King of Ireland, and asked, *What reward do I receive for the sword, O King of Ireland?’ ‘What reward do you want?’ asked the king. ‘The chieftaincy of the Fianna of Ireland that was held by the brother of my grandfather.’
‘If Oisin agrees, it shall be yours,’ said the king. ‘I do agree,’ said Oisin, ‘as does Cailte. It is proper,for seven kings of his family have already held the Fian-chieftaincy of Ireland and Scotland.’ ‘Thus I grant it to you,’ said the king, ‘as it has been given to each Fian-chief before you, without tax or tribute from it of gold or of silver, but with the control of all the hunting of Ireland.’
Donn took guarantors and sureties and held the Fian-chieftaincy of Ireland and Scotland for twenty-seven years, until Dub, son of Dolar, killed him in the battle of Cuire over in Scotland.
The sow was then brought into the presence of the King of Ireland. ‘Behold,’ said Conall, ‘the sow that Cailte and Donn killed, and that Cailte gave to you to divide among the men of Ireland, so that they might acquire protection from their share of the Sow of Healing.’
The King of Ireland divided the sow among the twenty-five battalions of the men of Ireland that were at Uisneach to their great joy and satisfaction. This was the last Sow of Healing that was divided among the men of Ireland.
At that time Conall Mor, son of Niall, said to the King of Ireland, ‘What provision do you wish to make for Cailte, should he come to visit you?’ ‘He shall have the food of a thousand warriors,’ said the king, ‘and let eight score cows be put to pasture in a field to provide him and his foster-son Oisin with a drink of milk before bedtime.’
They passed the night there until morning. Meanwhile Cailte had been given Conall’s horses, and his chariot was yoked for him. He set off for the summit of the Fews, to the Rowan Tree of the Fair Women, now called the Rowan Tree of the Meadow of Two Stags.
From there he went to the Height of the Prowess in the north, now called the Throwing-Place of Muirthemne [Faughart], where Cu Chulainn hurled his weapons at the Hosting of the Cattle Raid of Cooley, then north to the Ford of the Chariots, now called the Ford of Goll, then to the Stable of the Horses of Cu Chulainn, now called the Grave of the Grey One of Macha, between Dundalk and the sea, then south to the Mount of the Firewood, now called the Mount of Brega.
At that same time, on the summit of the Hill of Uisneach, a great thirst came upon Diarmait, son of Cerball, in the presence of the noblemen of Ireland. He asked if water were nearby. All said that there was none. When Oisin heard that he said, ‘Bring me a basin, and I shall go to look for water.’ ‘Let a boy go with you,’ said Diarmait.
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The finding of the Spring of Uisneach
‘No boy shall go,’ said Oisin, ‘nor any warrior.’ Oisin arose and put the charm of invisibility on the path behind him so that none from the encampment of the men of Ireland could see him. He went to search for the Spring of Uisneach, called In Fionnflescach ‘the Bright and Flourishing Spring’.
From the time of the battle of Gabhra to that time none of the men of Ireland had found it. Oisin went to the gravelly edge of the spring, and saw eight speckled salmon of great beauty flourishing there, fearing nothing because of the complete seclusion of the place. He put the basin in the water with eight sprigs of watercress and eight of brooklime. When he raised it up it was filled with eight wildly struggling salmon, covered with watercress and brooklime.
He returned to the Hill of Uisneach with the basin and presented it to the King of Ireland. All were amazed at that, and the tops of each of the sprigs came to Diarmait’s knee. ‘Let them be divided,’ said Diarmait. ‘One half for Patrick and the other half for us.’ ‘No,’ said Patrick, ‘you should have more, for you. High King, have a greater number of people to maintain. Let the salmon be divided into thirds, with one third, its proper share, to the Church.’ It was done in this way.
‘Well, O King of Ireland,’ said Patrick, ‘do not allow those two Fenians to deprive you of Heaven.’ ‘What do you mean, holy Patrick.?’ asked Diarmait. ‘They are of excellent parentage and they are themselves excellent men.’ ‘You devote too much attention to them,’ said Patrick.
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: The colloguy between Cailte and Oisin.
Cailte meanwhile went north to the green of the Bruigh across the Pool of Fiacc on the bright-flowing Boyne, to the right of the Hill of Tlachtga [the Hill of Ward], and to the left of the Hill of Tailtiu, the daughter of Magmor, and from the Course of the Chariots up onto the Hill of Uisneach, where the men of Ireland had gathered.
Cailte entered the assembly, approached Patrick, and paid homage to him, putting his head into Patrick’s lap. Mochua, son of Lonan, an old monk of Patrick’s retinue, stood up. ‘Well, dear Cailte,’ said Patrick, ‘identify this Mochua for us. I wished to ask this last night of Oisin, son of the Lord Fionn.’
Cailte answered thus:
Mochua, son of Lonan of the Cloaks, Senach’s son whom we will not attack,
Son of Aengus of the Grey Horses, son of Mugna, son of Blat of the Freckled Fist.
Son of Aedan, son of Bla-Aed, son of Fergus, son of Cinaed,
Son of Fiacha, son of Art from the Plain, son of Muiredach, son of Eoghan.’
‘What can I do,’ said Mochua, ‘other than remember you in the eight hours of the Church?’ ‘Come, Cailte, be by my side,’ said Diarmait, taking him by the hand. ‘I am not entitled to sit beside a king,’ said Cailte, ‘but merely to be in the presence of one, for I am the son of a warrior, and the one beside you is a better man than I.’ ‘I give my word,’ said Oisin, ‘no woman in the Ireland of your times bore a child of whom it could be said that he was a better man than you.’
At that time the men of Ireland gave greeting to Cailte, and the king greeted him thrice. Cailte gave three kisses to Oisin, and sat down beside him. Oisin gave the bunch of watercress and of brooklime that was in his hand to Cailte. ‘This is watercress and brooklime from the Bright Flesk,’ said Cailte. ‘Did you find any fish in it.’ ‘I found eight salmon,’ said Oisin, ‘and we will share them.’ ‘By my word,’ said Cailte, ‘never have I shared anything pleasanter with man or with woman.’
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: The chain of Lugh son of Eithlenn
Cailte put his hand to the rim of his shield, took from it the linen chain of Lugh, son of Eithlenn, and laid on the ground before them. ‘You found the chain in the Cairn of Garb Daire,’ said Oisin. ‘That’s where it was,’ said Cailte, and gave the chain to the King of Ireland.
If a host numbered twenty-five battalions, the chain enclosed them all, and eight hundred warriors found room inside it. It locked on the first man of them, and could not be unlocked until he was released.
The King of Ireland asked, ‘Well, dear Cailte, were those four men that lived in Ireland at the same time, Cormac, son of Art, Fionn, Cairbre Lifechair, and Oisin, noble men.’ ‘The warrior Cormac was a noble man,’ said Cailte, ‘and all know of the nobility’ of Fionn.’
Then Cailte recited the following lines:
‘If he had to judge between his enemy and his son.
His virtue would compel him to be fair.’
And, Cailte,’ asked Diarmait, ‘was Cormac a better man than
Fionn, and was Cairbre better than Oisin?’
Cailte recited:
‘By the King who is above my head, Cormac was not better than Fionn,
Nor famous Oisin less than Cairbre Lifechair.’
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: Glenn Ruis Énaig and the monster from Mesgregra’s brain.
Then Eochaid LethDearg, the King of Leinster, asked Cailte, ‘Why is it that Fionn and his Fian never killed the great beast that lives in the Valley of the Forest of the Fowling in the south, when you cleared Ireland of all the other monsters?’
‘This is the reason,’ said Cailte, ‘the monster is the quarter of the brain of Mesgegra thatthe earth swallowed and turned into a huge beast. It was not destined for anyone to kill it before the Adze-Head arrived. A disciple of his retinue will, at a later time, bind it with a single wisp of rushes and it will remain in that bond until Judgment Day comes.’
‘Why’, asked the king, ‘did the Fian come to that lake where they and their hounds were killed by the beast.?’ ‘Fionn had a lover from the sid, Uaine, daughter of Modarn, but Fionn rejected her because she was constantly changing herself into the shapes of different animals.
One day the Fian came to the cairn above the head of that lake, and our quarry escaped into the lake. We followed it into the lake and the beast arose against us and killed a hundred of our men and a hundred of our hounds. At that time I asked Fionn, “Will we be able to kill the beast, and, if so, should we attack it to take vengeance for our people?” Fionn put his thumb under his Tooth of Wisdom, and true prophecy was revealed to him.
He recited this poem:
“Glenn Ruis Énaig, ever true, ever sweet the sound of the bell.
Many red deer there, many fine treasures.
“The storm grew dark, terrible weather.
The earth trembled, mist on the swamp.
“Fowling of the Fian hidden quarry, torrent against hounds,
Swelling stream, churning swamp, broken earth.
“Death of the Fian, the beast from the marsh, above the red
leaves.
Fierce piercing, grief across points, snares above waters.
“Victorious the monster, a dragon’s eye, doom to the hosts,
Gleaming sides of flashing green, before Caemgein’s binding.TaUs of the Elders of Ireland 75
“Fierce monster of the lake, followed by a wave.
Fiercely striking the men of the Fian.
“Twelve years now truly reckoned.
And twelve hundred to the Friday of his birth.
“Lake of Fowling, abode of swans, alas without the Fian.
Clerics will meet there and sing sweet h\Tnns.
“Lake of Few ling, abode of swans, betw een tw o hills.
Now a field of assembly from end to end.
“Valley of Fowling between rvvo hills, fairest I have seen.
A river running from the lake, full flowing to the west.
“An abode it will be of pilgrims, an abode of weak and strong,
A burial-ground for kings, when Kevin comes to the glen.” ‘
One cannot count the number of stories that Cailte and Oisin related of the great deeds of valour and prowess they had done, or their tales of the nobles of the Fian, as well as the local lore of each hill and region that the men of Ireland enquired about.
Taman Trenbrugaid ‘the Strong Hospitaller’, son of Tren, then arrived, the victorious Lord Hospitaller of a Hundred of the King of Ireland. He came with a hundred and lifty great men, each wearing a cloak of deep blue with white-copper brooches in their cloaks above their breasts. They had brilliant, pure-white tunics and each carried a trident in his hand.
They greeted the King of Ireland, and said, ‘We have prepared a great feast for you, O King, two hundred vats of mead and two hundred vats of clear, intoxicating ale, together with many and varied foods.’ They had brought all of this food and drink with them to the king.
The king then asked Oisin, ‘Will you come into the same house with the nobles of Ireland, or will you have your own house for drinking and pleasure?’ ‘Let us have our food and drink apart from you,’ said Oisin, Tor people today are not of our generation and era.’
‘How many are you?’ asked the King of Ireland. We have eighteen men with us,’ said Oisin, ‘nine with me, and nine with my foster-father Cailte.’ ‘Let them have twenty vats full of drink and their fill of food,’ said the King of Ireland. ‘My dear King,’ said Cailte, ‘do not think that we require equal amounts of food or drink. Whenever I was given ten vats, thirty would be needed for Oisin.’
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: The division of Ireland at the hill of Uisneach
Lacking neither food nor drink, they passed that night in cheer and merriment until the full light of day arrived. That day a tent was raised on the green-clad hill for the King of Ireland, and none but a king or an heir to a throne was allowed within. Patrick and his clerics went into one side of the tent. Only a bishop or a priest or one beloved by the King of Heaven and Earth was allowed to enter. Oisin sat close to Patrick and Cailte sat near the King of Ireland.
‘Which of you is the elder?’ asked the King of Ireland. ‘I am,’ said Cailte, ‘for I was already thirty years old when Oisin was born. He spent seventeen years in my bed, and, after leaving my house, took command of a Fian and a band of men.’
The King of Ireland then asked, ‘How many kings of Ireland gave land to the Fiana. Cailte was able to answer that question. ‘A king, named Feradach Fionnfhechtnach “the Righteous”, took the kingship of Ireland. He had two sons, Tuathal and Fiacha, and when Feradach died his two sons divided Ireland between them. One of them took the treasures, the jewels and wealth, the cattle and herds, the bracelets and ornaments, the forts, strongholds, and manors, and the other had the cliffs and estuaries, the mast and produce of the sea, the beautiful speckled salmon and the beautiful surface-speckled deer, the heavy-sided boars, the plump, red does and the fierce stags.’
‘Where did they make this division.” asked the King of Ireland. ‘The hill on which we sit is the place where the two sons of the King of Ireland divided it all between them.’ ‘Those two shares are not comparable,’ said the nobles of the men of Ireland. ‘Which share would you prefer?’ asked Oisin, ‘the feasts of Ireland, the houses and wealth as well, on the one hand, or the woods and wildernesses, the hunting and fishing on the other?’ ‘The share that was the worse, in your opinion,’ said Cailte, ‘we think the better.’
‘Now tell us the truth of it, Cailte,’ said Oisin, and recited the
following lines:
‘Cailte, tell us. Great is your knowledge.
When Ireland was first divided, the lands about Uisneach.
‘Who gave the Fian land? Can you tell us, Cailte?
Who left household service? Who paid their reward?’
Cailte recited the following poem:
‘I remember it all well, O son of the daughter of Dearg,
When Fiacha helped the Fian, until you, Oisin, deposed him. ‘Then ten years good sovereignty for you, Oisin,
Till Fothad deceived the Fian and you were abandoned.
Tiacha Fionn, Feradach’s good son, next ruled the Fian
With Eithne, daughter of Daire Dub, the Morrigu’s child.
Teradach and Fiacha Fionn divided Ireland strength for strength.
They ruled Ireland with fame, without strife.
‘The younger chose the Fian-life
Woodlands and wilderness, cliffs and streams.
‘Feradach took the high-kingship of Ireland,
Her feasts and harvests, her dwellings and herds.
‘Good was his kingship till Mai Mor killed him,
A king’s death, red in valour, his death that night.
‘Fiacha went to Tara when Feradach fell.
And took back all Ireland from Mai mac Rochraide.
‘The Fian he gave to Morna the wise.
Four of his kinsmen held the lordship.
*Morna mac Cairbre held it for ten years.
And ten for Garad, till he lost his head.
‘Daigre mac Garaid, but five years with valour.
Donn mac Morna, the last for seven.
‘Eochaid mac Narchada from Ulster ruled the Fian^
Under two years his reign in high-kingship.
‘Cas mac Cannain, one year he had from Ulster.
His son, Duban, reigned another two.
‘Liath of Ltiachair and Labraid LamDearg of Munster,
Ten years of reign to each peasant’s son.
‘Trenmor ua Baiscne, Setna Sithbacc’s grandson.
Father of Cumall, the father of Fionn.
‘He seized control of the Fianna of Ireland,
The king north and south for seventeen years.
‘Cumall took by shield and sword.
The kingship in three fierce battles.
Ten years he reigned till the battle of Cnucha.
‘Then ruled Morna’s sons, in grief and constant sorrow,
Thirty warriors surrounding Daigre, Goll, and Garad.
‘Goll the Great, last son of Morna,
Held the kingship for ten good years.
‘Fionn mac Cumaill followed, salmon of gold.
Our generous leader, our virtuous lord.
‘Two hundred years of rule and thirty more.
The long life of Fionn till his leap of folly.
‘Seventeen kings held the Fian-kingship.
Fionn, Almus warrior, the best of them all.
‘Five crafty druids, the best of our land,
Their tales and their magic abide with me still.
‘Badbgna of Sid Badbgna Cathbad, famous druid,
Stocan, Mug Ruith, and Fionn from Formael.
‘Five wealthy leeches, the best of our land.
Though long it has been, I remember them well.
‘Miach and Airmed, their father Diancecht,
Gabran from Britain and Fionn ua Baiscne.
‘Five noble poets, the best of our land.
I remember them well, their tales and their verse.
‘Cairbre from afar, Amairgen, Labraid Lore,
Ferchertne, Mug Ruith, and Fionn Faebarnocht.
‘The five wisest men ever found in a single house,
Fithel and Flaithri, Cairbre, Aillbe, and Cormac.
‘The problems they set, Fionn quickly solved.
The problems of Fionn exceeded their wit.
‘The five fiercest warriors of the land of Elg,
In deeds and exploits, battle and war.
‘Lugh son of Cian, Cu Chulainn, and Conall,
Lugaid Laga, great his valour, and Fionn mac Cumaill, fairest of all.
‘The five most generous for clothing and food.
Of the race of glorious Gaels, open were their hands.
‘Lugh mac Eithlenn, Aengus, and Cu,
Pleasant Conaire, Mac Luchta, and Fionn.
*The five best sovereigns who ruled the land,
I still remember stories of their rule.
‘Eremon, son of Mil, and lugaine,
Aengus Tuirbech, Conn, and Fionn.
‘A warrior in fierceness, a soldier in friendship,
A cleric in preaching, and a lord of truth.
‘No fault with Fionn’s Fian, by Heaven’s King,
But that they did not adore Thy Son.
‘Fionn and his retinue do not survive.
Nor host of chieftains about the chief
‘Better his hosts than any host.
Many the shields and rough grey warriors.
‘Our king, our poet, our lord of great domain.
Our physician, our druid, sweet were his words.
‘The witness that I give of Fionn,
Three times the better he was than this.
‘Seven times Fionn of Almu found belief.
An old man the last time. From it came his death.
‘Eoghan held the Half of Mug, Trenmor by his arm,
Cairell his cherished son, the child of Seal.’
‘May you have victory and blessing, Cailte,’ said Diarmait, son of
Cerball. ‘Where are the wise men and the historians of Ireland?
Whatever Cailte and Oisin have told us of their great deeds of valour and of prowess, as well as all the knowledge, learning, and the place-name lore of Ireland, let it all be preserved on the staffs of poets, in the texts of scholars, and in the tales of sages, so that each might carry his share with him to his own native land.’ Thus it was done.
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: the colloquy between Cailte and Fionn FaebarDerg
Fionn, son of FaebarDearg, King of Ui Cheinnselaig ‘the Descendants of Ceinnselach’, then said, ‘Tell me, Cailte, what caused the destruction of hunting in the Pine Forest of Fionn.?’ ‘The frequenting of it by the holy and the righteous,’ said Cailte, ‘more than any other place in the territory. Fionn had a hunting preserve there, and whenever the Fian could not find enough game in the eastern part of Leinster, from the Anvil of the Plain of Femen to the Hill of Howth, they would find it in the Pine Forest of Fionn.’
‘Well, dear Cailte, said Fionn, son of FaebarDearg, ‘why is the ford on the floor of the Pine Forest called the Ford of Fern [Ferns]?’
Oisin answered that. ‘Goll, son of Morna, killed Fern, son of Cairell, there on a raid by the Sons of Morna. Fern was the son of the King of the Deisi in the south, and a warrior beloved by Fionn. After he was buried in the earth, Fionn put his thumb under his Tooth of Wisdom and truth was revealed to him, and he said, “Fern, son of Cairell, you are fortunate to be buried in this place, for a multitude of blessed little bells and of blessed books of hours, and offerings of the Body of the Lord will be made above your head.”
And he recited the following poem:
“Ferns, where good Maedoc will be.
Today’s hunts will be replaced by hymns.
“Ferns of the green shore, for an excellent man.
With his soul-friends, close to God.
“They will come with Maedoc across the ford,
Priests and a bishop, a man of God.
“They will come with Maedoc, the sun through showers.
Son of the ever victorious star.
“An ordained place where once the Fian cooked.
Happy the king who has here his grave.
“The strong boar I prophesy, the fierce flame of doom.
With Maedoc will come a wave across the ford.” ‘
‘Well indeed have you related this,’ said Fionn, son of FaebarDearg.
The tales of the Elders of Ireland: the Destruction of the fort at the forest of badgers.
‘I have another question that I would like to ask of you, Cailte.’ ‘What is it? asked Cailte. ‘There is a place near us where the two provinces meet, by the fast-flowing Meeting of the Three Rivers where the Shannon, the Nore, and the Barrow meet. The place is called the Forest of Badgers. I wished to learn from you who it was that held the fortress there.’
‘An easy question for me,’ said Cailte. ‘Cellach Braenbile “the Bloody Hero” and Moling Luath “the Swift” of the province of Leinster, two warriors beloved by Fionn mac Cumaill, lived there. Each had two hundred warriors, two hundred boys, and two hundred hounds, and were you to search through the three battalions of the Fian, few pairs would be found better than they in agility or at weapon-handling. Another of their virtues was that the Fian could stay in their houses for years with no shortage of food or of drink
‘We find the water of that place wondrous,’ said Fionn, son of FaebarDearg, its height and its flow down the cliff. This water heals every sickness it comes in contact with.’ ‘Do you know the cause of this, Fionn, son of FaebarDearg.’ ‘I do not,’ said Fionn. ‘Then I shall tell you the cause of that grace,’ said Cailte.
‘This is the first water in Ireland that the angels of God blessed and the last water in Ireland still to be blessed. Taidiu is the name of the river.
‘Those two warriors lived there until the Sons of Morna came raiding on Fionn. One evening they suddenly discovered that the Sons of Morna had surrounded them from the east and from the west. They attacked the fort for three days and nights, but were unable to achieve anything before the end of the third day when they set fire to the fort. They burned it down and plundered it. No one, man or woman, escaped the fire and slaughter to tell tales of it.
When they had finished plundering the fort they set off across the shallow of the Estuary of the Black Stream and then west across the Barrow. We came to the aid of Cellach and Moling with the three battalions of the Fian but were too late to help them. Fionn and the three battalions of the Fian sat down on the green of the fort and he wept tearfully and sadly on seeing the place burning, for rarely if ever was done a deed more painful to the Fian than that.
An oval basin of white gold was brought to the Lord Fionn at that time. He washed his hands and sprinkled water on his fair, royal face, and put his thumb under his Tooth of Wisdom. One of the three greatest revelations that he had ever had was then revealed to him, and he said, “Four chosen seers will come to Ireland after me and will make their prophecies for the King of Heaven and Earth. One of the four. Moling, the son of Faelan, the son of Feradach, son of Fidga, will come here.
A battle will be waged in Ireland in the future, the battle of Mag Rath ‘the Plain of Fortresses’ [Moira], and Suibne Geilt ‘Mad Sweeney’ will leave that battle and will be killed in this place and buried here. The mother of that cleric is a woman of Munster, and the men of Munster will never dare to cause harm to this place.”
He then recited this poem:
‘Ros Brace a place of wolves between two cliffs.
Soon the church of Moling and his saints.
“Swirlng Taidiu at the edge of the rock,
Many will come here, travellers for God.
“Sweeney will flee here from Moira in the north,
Joy for the cleric on a fine morning.
“The house of MoUng, the son of Faelan,
An ounce of gold from each, to dwell in his church.
“The bell of Moling will be struck at the hours.
Limerick’s men will spare this son of Munster.
“The best men of Ciialu will arrive from the north.
Ever better till Doom, the House of Moling.
“I tell you now, my prophecy is true.
Fionn’s soul shall rest here in Moling’s wood.”
Tales of the Elders of Ireland: The King of Ireland leaves, Patrick and the Fianna split up for a year.
‘Well, dear Fionn, son of FaebarDearg,’ said Cailte, ‘that is the question that you asked of me.’ At that time the King of Ireland said to Patrick, ‘It is time for me to go to Tara now. Will you elders come with me.’ asked Diarmait.
‘We shall not go there,’ they said, ‘until the end of the year.’ Eochaid LethDearg, the King of Leinster, said, ‘I shall take Oisin with me for this year to the Fortress of Liaman Lennchaem “of the Lovely Cloak”, the daughter of Dobran Dubthaire “of the Wilderness”. ‘I shall take Cailte with me,’ satid Conall Mor, son of Niall, ‘to the Fortress of the Ships in the north for this year.’ ‘I shall take Patrick with me to Tara,’ said Diarmait, son of Cerball, ‘to baptize and bless the men of Ireland and to instruct them in his own correctness and rule.’
The men of Ireland went off to their own territories intending to meet at the end of a year in Tara. This was ‘The Converse of the Elders’ by the pillar on the Hill of Uisneach, in which they transmitted all their knowledge and learning to the later men of Ireland.