Book: The Cattle Raid of Cualnge (Tain Bo Cualnge)

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Then the hero and the champion and he who made the fold of the Badb
[Note: The Badb (scald-crow) was a war-goddess. This is an
expressive term for the piled-up bodies of the slain.] of the men
of the earth, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim, took his battle-array of
battle and contest and strife. This was his battle-array of battle
and contest and strife: he put on twenty-seven skin tunics, waxed,
like board, equally thick, which used to be under strings and
chains and thongs, against his white skin, that he might not lose
his mind nor his understanding when his rage should come. He put on
his hero's battle-girdle over it outside, of hard-leather, hard,
tanned, of the choice of seven ox-hides of a heifer, so that it
covered him from the thin part of his sides to the thick part of
his arm-pit; it used to be on him to repel spears, and points, and
darts, and lances, and arrows. For they were cast from him just as
if it was stone or rock or horn that they struck (?). Then he put
on his apron, skin like, silken, with its edge of white gold
variegated, against the soft lower part of his body. He put on his
dark apron of dark leather, well tanned, of the choice of four
ox-hides of a heifer, with his battle-girdle of cows' skins (?)
about it over his silken skin-like apron. Then the royal hero took
his battle-arms of battle and contest and strife. These then were
his battle-arms of battle: he took his ivory-hilted, bright-faced
weapon, with his eight little swords; he took his five-pointed
spear, with his eight little spears [Note: In the margin: 'and his
quiver,' probably an interpolation.]; he took his spear of battle,
with his eight little darts; he took his javelin with his eight
little javelins; his eight shields of feats, with his round shield,
dark red, in which a boar that would be shown at a feast would go
into the boss (?), with its edge sharp, keen, very sharp, round
about it, so that it would cut hairs against the stream for
sharpness and keenness and great sharpness; when the warrior did
the edge-feat with it, he would cut equally with his shield, and
with his spear, and with his sword.

Then he put on his head a ridged-helmet of battle and contest and
strife, from which there was uttered the shout of a hundred
warriors, with along cry from every corner and every angle of it.
For there used to cry from it equally goblins and sprites and
ghosts of the glen and demons of the air, before and above and
around, wherever he used to go before shedding the blood of
warriors and enemies. There was cast over him his dress of
concealment by the garment of the Land of Promise that was given by
his foster-father in wizardry.

It is then came the first contortion on Cuchulainn, so that it made
him horrible, many-shaped, wonderful, strange. His shanks shook
like a tree before the stream, or like a rush against the stream,
every limb and every joint and every end and every member, of him
from head to foot. He made a ---- of rage of his body inside his
skin. His feet and his shins and his knees came so that they were
behind him; his heels and his calves and his hams came so that they
were in front. The front-sinews of his calves came so that they
were on the front of his shins, so that every huge knot of them was
as great as a warrior's clenched fist. The temple-sinews of his
head were stretched, so that they were on the hollow of his neck,
so that every round lump of them, very great, innumerable, not to
be equalled (?), measureless, was as great as the head of a month
old child.

Then he made a red bowl of his face and of his visage on him; he
swallowed one of his two eyes into his head, so that from his cheek
a wild crane could hardly have reached it [to drag it] from the
back of his skull. The other sprang out till it was on his cheek
outside. His lips were marvellously contorted. Tie drew the cheek
from the jawbone, so that his gullet was visible. His lungs and his
lights came so that they were flying in his mouth and in his
throat. He struck a blow of the ---- of a lion with his upper
palate on the roof of his skull, so that every flake of fire that
came into his mouth from his throat was as large as a wether's
skin. His heart was heard light-striking (?) against his ribs like
the roaring of a bloodhound at its food, or like a lion going
through bears. There were seen the palls of the Badb, and the
rain-clouds of poison, and the sparks of fire very red in clouds
and in vapours over his head with the boiling of fierce rage, that
rose over him.

His hair curled round his head like the red branches of a thorn in
the gap of Atalta (?). Though a royal apple-tree under royal fruit
had been shaken about it, hardly would an apple have reached the
ground through it, but an apple would have fixed on every single
hair there, for the twisting of the rage that rose from his hair
above him.

The hero's light rose from his forehead, so that it was as long,
and as thick, as a warrior's whet-stone, so that it was equally
long with the nose, till he went mad in playing with the shields,
in pressing on (?) the charioteer, in ---- the hosts. As high, as
thick, as strong, as powerful, as long, as the mast of a great
ship, was the straight stream of dark blood that rose straight up
from the very top of his head, so that it made a dark smoke of
wizardry like the smoke of a palace when the king comes to equip
himself in the evening of a wintry day.

After that contortion wherewith Cuchulainn was contorted, then the
hero of valour sprang into his scythed battle-chariot, with its
iron points, with its thin edges, with its hooks, and with its hard
points, with its sharp points (?) of a hero, with their pricking
goads (?), with its nails of sharpness that were on shafts and
thongs and cross-pieces and ropes (?) of that chariot.

It was thus the chariot was, with its body thin-framed (?),
dry-framed (?), feat-high, straight-shouldered (?), of a champion,
on which there would have been room for eight weapons fit for a
lord, with the speed of swallow or of wind or of deer across the
level of the plain. The chariot was placed on two horses, swift,
vehement, furious, small-headed, small-round, small-end, pointed,
----, red-breasted, ----, easy to recognise, well-yoked, ... One of
these two horses was supple, swift-leaping, great of strength, great
of curve, great of foot, great of length, ----. The other horse was
flowing-maned, slender-footed, thin-footed, slender-heeled, ----.

It is then that he threw the thunder-feat of a hundred, and the
thunder-feat of four hundred, and he stopped at the thunder-feat
of five hundred, for he did not think it too much for this equal
number to fall by him in his first attack, and in his first contest
of battle on the four provinces of Ireland; and he came forth in
this way to attack his enemies, and he took his chariot in a great
circuit about the four great provinces of Ireland, and he put the
attack of an enemy among enemies on them. And a heavy course was
put on his chariot, and the iron wheels of the chariot went into
the ground, so that it was enough for fort and fortress, the way
the iron wheels of the chariot went into the ground; for there
arose alike turfs and stones and rocks and flagstones and gravel of
the ground as high as the iron wheels of the chariot.

The reason why he cast the circle of war round about the four great
provinces of Ireland, was that they might not flee from him, and
that they might not scatter, that he might make sure of them, to
avenge the boys on them; and he comes into the battle thus in the
middle, and overthrew great fences of his enemies' corpses round
about the host thrice, and puts the attack of an enemy among
enemies on them, so that they fell sole to sole, and neck to neck;
such was the density of the slaughter.

He went round again thrice thus, so that he left a layer of six
round them in the great circuit; i.e. soles of three to necks of
three in the course of a circuit round the camp. So that its name
in the Foray is Sesrech Breslige, and it is one of the three not to
be numbered in the Foray; i.e. Sesrech Breslige and Imslige
Glendamnach and the battle on Garach and Irgarach, except that it
was alike dog and horse and man there.

This is what others say, that Lug Mac Ethlend fought along with
Cuchulainn the Sesrech Breslige. Their number is not known, and it
is impossible to count what number fell there of the rabble. But
the chief only have been counted. These are the names of the
princes and chiefs: two Cruads, two Calads, two Cirs, two Ciars,
two Ecells, three Croms, three Caurs, three Combirge, four
Feochars, four Furachars, four Cass, four Fotas, five Caurs, five
Cermans, five Cobthachs, six Saxans, six Dachs, six Dares, seven
Rochads, seven Ronans, seven Rurthechs, eight Roclads, eight
Rochtads, eight Rindachs, eight Corpres, eight Mulachs, nine Daigs,
nine Dares, nine Damachs, ten Fiachs, ten Fiachas, ten Fedelmids.

Ten kings over seven fifties did Cuchulainn slay in Breslech Mor
in Mag Murthemne; and an innumerable number besides of dogs and
horses and women and boys and people of no consequence and rabble.
For there did not escape one man out of three of the men of Ireland
without a thigh-bone or half his head or one eye broken, or without
being marked for ever. And he came from them after giving them
battle without wound or blood-stain on himself or on his servant or
on either of his horses.

Cuchulainn came next day to survey the host and to show his soft
fair form to the women and the troops of women and the girls and
the maidens and the poets and the bards, for he did not hold in
honour or dignity that haughty form of wizardry that had appeared
to them on him the night before. Therefore he came to show his soft
fair form that day.

Fair indeed the boy who came then to show his form to the hosts,
that is, Cuchulainn Mac Sualtaim. The appearance of three heads of
hair on him, dark against the skin of his head, blood-red in the
middle, a crown gold-yellow which covers them. A fair arrangement
of this hair so that it makes three circles round the hollow of the
back of his head, so that each hair ----, dishevelled, very golden,
excellent, in long curls, distinguished, fair-coloured, over his
shoulders, was like gold thread.

A hundred ringlets, bright purple, of red-gold, gold-flaming, round
his neck; a hundred threads with mixed carbuncle round his head.
Four dimples in each of his two cheeks; that is, a yellow dimple,
and a green dimple, and a blue dimple, and a purple dimple. Seven
gems of brilliance of an eye, in each of his two royal eyes. Seven
toes on each of his two feet, seven fingers on each of his two
hands, with the grasp of a hawk's claws, with the seizure of a
griffin's claws on each of them separately.

Then he puts on his feast-dress that day. This was his raiment on
him: a fair tunic, proper; bright-purple, with a border with five
folds. A white brooch of white silver with adorned gold inlaid over
his white breast, as if it was a lantern full of light, that the
eyes of men could not look at for its splendour and its brightness.
A silken tunic of silk against his skin so that it covered him to
the top of his dark apron of dark-red, soldierly, royal, silken.

A dark shield; dark red, dark purple, with five chains of gold,
with a rim of white metal on it. A sword gold-hilted, inlaid with
ivory hilt of red-gold raised high on his girdle. A spear, long,
grey-edged, with a spear-head sharp, attacking, with rivets of
gold, gold-flaming by him in the chariot. Nine heads in one of his
two hands, and ten heads in the other hand. He shook them from him
towards the hosts. So that this is the contest of a night to
Cuchulainn. Then the women of Connaught raised themselves on the
hosts, and the women were climbing on the men to look at
Cuchulainn's form. Medb hid her face and dare not show her face,
but was under the shield-shelter for fear of Cuchulainn. So that it
is hence Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster said:

'If it is the Riastartha, there will be corpses
Of men therefrom,' etc. [Note: Rhetoric, fifty-four lines.]

Fiacha Fialdana from Imraith (?) came to speak with the son of his
mother's sister, Mane Andoe his name. Docha Mac Magach went with
Mane Andoe: Dubthach Doeltenga of Ulster came with Fiacha Fialdana
from Imraith (?). Docha threw a spear at Fiacha, so that it went
into Dubthach. Then Dubthach threw a spear at Mane, so that it
went into Docha. The mothers of Dubthach and Docha were two
sisters. Hence is Imroll Belaig Euin. [Note: i.e. the Random Throw
of Belach Euin.]

(Or Imroll Belaig Euin is from this: the hosts go to Belach Euin,
their two troops wait there. Diarmait Mac Conchobair comes from the
north from Ulster.

'Let a horseman go from you,' said Diarmait, 'that Mane may come to
speak with me with one man, and I will come with one man to meet
him.' They meet then.

I have come,' said Diarmait, 'from Conchobar, who says to Medb and
Ailill, that they let the cows go, and make whole all that they
have done there, and bring the Bull [Note: i.e. bring Findbennach
to meet the Dun of Cualnge.] from the west hither to the Bull, that
they may meet, because Medb has promised it.'

'I will go and tell them,' said Mane. He tells this then to Medb
and Ailill.

'This cannot be got of Medb,' said Mane.

'Let us exchange arms then, 'said Diarmait, 'if you think it
better.'

'I am content,' said Mane. Each of them throws his spear at the
other, so that the two of them die, and so that the name of this
place is Imroll Belaig Euin.)

Their forces rush at each other: there fall three twenties of them
in each of the forces. Hence is Ard-in-Dirma. [Note: The Height of
the Troop.]

Ailill's folk put his king's crown on Tamun the fool; Ailill dare
not have it on himself. Cuchulainn threw a stone at him at Ath
Tamuin, so that his head broke thereby. Hence is Ath Tamuin and
Tuga-im-Tamun. [Note: i.e., Covering about Tamun.]

Then Oengus, son of Oenlam the Fair, a bold warrior of Ulster,
turned all the host at Moda Loga (that is the same as Lugmod) as
far as Ath Da Ferta: He did not let them go past, and he pelted
them with stones, and the learned say ---- before till they should
go under the sword at Emain Macha, if it had been in single combat
that they had come against him. Fair-play was broken on him, and
they slew him in an unequal fight.

'Let some one come from you against me,' said Cuchulainn at Ath Da
Ferta.

'It will not be I, it will not be I,' said every one from his
place. 'A scapegoat is not owed from my race, and if it were owed,
it would not be I whom they would give in his stead for a
scapegoat.'

Then Fergus Mac Roich was asked to go against him. He refuses to go
against his foster-son Cuchulainn. Wine was given to him, and he
was greatly intoxicated, and he was asked about going to the
combat. He goes forth then since they were urgently imploring him.

Then Cuchulainn said: 'It is with my security that you come against
me, O friend Fergus,' said he, 'with no sword in its place.' For
Ailill had stolen it, as we said before.

'I do not care at all,' said Fergus; 'though there were a sword
there, it would not be plied on you. Give way to me, O Cuchulainn,'
said Fergus.

'You will give way to me in return then,' said Cuchulainn.

'Even so,' said Fergus.

Then Cuchulainn fled back before Fergus as far as Grellach Doluid,
that Fergus might give way to him on the day of the battle. Then
Cuchulainn sprang in to Grellach Doluid.


'Have you his head, O Fergus?' said every one.

'No,' said Fergus, 'it is not like a tryst. He who is there is too
lively for me. Till my turn comes round again, I will not go.'

Then they go past him, and take camp at Crich Ross. Then Ferchu, an
exile, who was in exile against Ailill, hears them. He comes to
meet Cuchulainn. Thirteen men was his number. Cuchulainn kills
Ferchu's warriors. Their thirteen stones are there.

Medb sent Mand of Muresc, son of Daire, of the Domnandach, to fight
Cuchulainn. Own brothers were lie and Fer Diad, and two sons of one
father. This Mand was a man fierce and excessive in eating and
sleeping, a man ill-tongued, foul-mouthed, like Dubthach Doeltenga
of Ulster. He was a man strong, active, with strength of limb like
Munremar Mac Gerrcind; a fiery warrior like Triscod Trenfer of
Conchobar's house.

'I will go, and I unarmed, and I will grind him between my hands,
for I deem it no honour or dignity to ply weapons on a beardless
wild boy such as he.'

He went then to seek Cuchulainn. He and his charioteer were there
on the plain watching the host.

'One man coming towards us,' said Loeg to Cuchulainn.

'What kind of man?' said Cuchulainn.

'A man black, dark, strong, bull-like, and he unarmed.'

'Let him come past you,' said Cuchulainn.

He came to them therewith.

To fight against you have I come,' said Mand.

Then they begin to wrestle for a long time, and Mand overthrows
Cuchulainn thrice, so that the charioteer urged him.

'If you had a strife for the hero's portion in Emain,' said he,
'you would be mighty over the warriors of Emain!'


His hero's rage comes, and his warrior's fury rises, so that he
overthrew Mand against the pillar, so that he falls in pieces.
Hence is Mag Mand Achta, that is, Mand Echta, that is, Mand's death
there.


[From the Yellow Book of Lecan]

On the morrow Medb sent twenty-seven men to Cuchulainn's bog.
Fuilcarnn is the name of the bog, on this side of Fer Diad's Ford.
They threw their twenty-nine spears at him at once; i.e.
Gaile-dana with his twenty-seven sons and his sister's son, Glas
Mac Delgna. When then they all stretched out their hands to
their swords, Fiacha Mac Fir-Febe came after them out of the
camp. He gave a leap from his chariot when he saw all their
hands against Cuchulainn, and he strikes off the arms of the
twenty-nine of them.

Then Cuchulainn said: 'What you have done I deem help at the
nick of time (?).'

'This little,' said Fiacha, 'is a breach of compact for us
Ulstermen. If any of them reaches the camp, we will go with our
cantred under the point of the sword.'

'I swear, etc., since I have emitted my breath,' said Cuchulainn,
'not a man of them shall reach it alive.'

Cuchulainn slew then the twenty-nine men and the two sons of Ficce
with them, two bold warriors of Ulster who came to ply their might
on the host. This is that deed on the Foray, when they went to the
battle with Cuchulainn.


_This is the Combat of Fer Diad and Cuchulainn_

Then they considered what man among them would be fit to ward off
Cuchulainn. The four provinces of Ireland spoke, and confirmed, and
discussed, whom it would be fitting to send to the ford against
Cuchulainn. All said that it was the Horn-skin from Irrus Domnand,
the weight that is not supported, the battle-stone of doom, his own
dear and ardent foster-brother. For Cuchulainn had not a feat that
he did not possess, except it were the Gae Bolga alone; and they
thought he could avoid it, and defend himself against it, because
of the horn about him, so that neither arms nor many edges pierced
it.

Medb sent messengers to bring Fer Diad. Fer Diad did not come with
those messengers. Medb sent poets and bards and satirists [Note:
Ir. _aes glantha gemaidi_, the folk who brought blotches on the
cheeks (i.e. by their lampoons).] to him, that they might satirise
him and mock him and put him to ridicule, that he might not find a
place for his head in the world, until he should come to the tent
of Medb and Ailill on the Foray. Fer Diad came with those
messengers, for the fear of their bringing shame on him.

Findabair, the daughter of Medb and Ailill, was put on one side of
him: it is Findabair who put her hand on every goblet and on every
cup of Fer Diad; it is she who gave him three kisses at every cup
of them; it is she who distributed apples right frequent over the
bosom of his tunic. This is what she said: that he, Fer Diad, was
her darling and her chosen wooer of the men of the world.

When Fer Diad was satisfied and happy and very joyful, Medb said:

'Ale! O Fer Diad, do you know why you have been summoned into this
tent?'

'I do not know indeed,' said Fer Diad; 'except that the nobles of
the men of Ireland are there. What is there less fitting for me to
be there than for any other good warrior?'

'It is not that indeed,' said Medb; 'but to give you a chariot
worth three sevens of cumals [See previous note about _cumal_.] and
the equipment of twelve men, and the equal of Mag Murthemne from
the arable land of Mag Ai; and that you should be in Cruachan
always, and wine to be poured for you there; and freedom of your
descendants and of your race for ever without tribute or tax; my
leaf-shaped brooch of gold to be given to you, in which there are
ten score ounces and ten score half-ounces, and ten score _crosach_
and ten score quarters; Findabair, my daughter and Ailill's
daughter, for your one wife, and you shall get my love if you need
it over and above.'

'He does not need it,' said every, one: 'great are the rewards and
gifts.'

'That is true,' said Fer Diad, 'they are great; and though they are
great, O Medb, it is with you yourself they will be left, rather
than that I should go against my foster-brother to battle.'

'O men,' said she, said Medb (through the right way of division and
setting by the ears), 'true is the word that Cuchulainn spoke,' as
if she had not heard Fer Diad at all.

'What word is this, O Medb?' said Fer Diad.

'He said indeed,' said she, 'that he would not think it too much
that you should fall by him as the first fruits of his prowess in
the province to which he should come.'

'To say that was not fitting for him. For it is not weariness or
cowardice that he has ever known in me, day nor night. I swear,
etc., [Note: The usual oath, 'by the god by whom my people swear,'
understood.] that I will be the first man who will come to-morrow
morning to the ford of combat.'

'May victory and blessing come to you,' said Medb. 'And I think it
better that weariness or cowardice be found with you, because of
friendship beyond my own men (?). Why is it more fitting for him to
seek the good of Ulster because his mother was of them, than for
you to seek the good of the province of Connaught, because you are
the son of a king of Connaught?'

It is thus they were binding their covenants and their compact, and
they made a song there:

'Thou shalt have a reward,' etc.

There was a wonderful warrior of Ulster who witnessed that
bargaining, and that was Fergus Mac Roich. Fergus came to his tent.

'Woe is me! the deed that is done to-morrow morning!' said Fergus.

'What deed is that?' said the folk in the tent.

'My good fosterling Cuchulainn to be slain.'

'Good lack! who makes that boast?'

'An easy question: his own dear ardent foster-brother, Fer Diad Mac
Damain. Why do ye not win my blessing?' said Fergus; 'and let one
of you go with a warning and with compassion to Cuchulainn, if
perchance he would leave the ford to-morrow morning.'

'On our conscience,' said they, 'though it were you yourself who
were on the ford of combat, we would not come as far as [the ford]
to seek you.'

'Good, my lad,' said Fergus; 'get our horses for us and yoke the
chariot.'

The lad arose and got the horses and yoked the chariot. They came
forth to the ford of combat where Cuchulainn was.

'One chariot coming hither towards us, O Cuchulainn!' said Loeg.
For it is thus the lad was, with his back towards his lord. He used
to win every other game of _brandub_ [_Brandub_, the name of a
game; probably, like _fidchill_ and _buanfach_, of the nature of
chess or draughts.] and of chess-playing from his master: the
sentinel and watchman on the four quarters of Ireland over and
above that.

'What kind of chariot then?' said Cuchulainn.

'A chariot like a huge royal fort, with its yolcs strong golden,
with its great panel(?) of copper, with its shafts of bronze, with
its body thin-framed (?), dry-framed (?), feat-high, scythed,
sword-fair (?), of a champion, on two horses, swift, stout(?),
well-yoked (?), ---- (?). One royal warrior, wide-eyed, was the
combatant of the chariot. A beard curly, forked, on him, so that it
reached over the soft lower part of his soft shirt, so that it
would shelter (?) fifty warriors to be under the heavy ---- of the
warrior's beard, on a day of storm and rain. A round shield, white,
variegated, many-coloured on him, with three chains ----, so that
there would be room from front to back for four troops of ten men
behind the leather of the shield which is upon the ---- of the
warrior. A sword, long, hard-edged, red-broad in the sheath, woven
and twisted of white silver, over the skin of the bold-in-battle. A
spear, strong, three-ridged, with a winding and with bands of white
silver all white by him across the chariot.'

'Not hard the recognition,' said Cuchulainn; 'my friend Fergus
comes there, with a warning and with compassion to me before all
the four provinces.'

Fergus reached them and sprang from his chariot and Cuchulainn
greeted him.

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