The Ulster People: 8 – The Ulster Cycle

Among the great works of early Irish literature are a group of tales known as the Ulster Cycle, written in the Pretanian Abbot Comgall’s monastery of Bangor and traditionally felt to depict the North of Ireland in the first few centuries AD. While some scholars suggest that certain of the episodes enshrined within these tales have some bearing on actual historical events, this can only be speculation. But perhaps what we are looking at here is the hidden history of the Pretani . What we can say, however, is that the whole structure of society as depicted in the sagas, the weapons and characteristics of the warriors, and their methods of warfare, agree precisely with the descriptions by classical authors of life among the Britons and Gauls before the Roman invasions. So, while we cannot yet take them as ‘historical’ evidence, these stories nevertheless give us a glimpse, albeit romanticised, into Ireland’s Iron Age — its ‘Heroic’ Age — and are, moreover, a rich ingredient of this island’s cultural heritage.

According to the sagas, the great citadel at Emain Macha (Emania) contained within it three main buildings: that of the Red Branch, in which was kept the heads and arms of vanquished enemies; that of the Royal Branch, where the king lodged; and the Speckled House, in which were stored the swords, shields and spears of Ulster’s warriors. The latter building received its name from the gold and silver of the shields, and the glint from all the weapons, stored there in order that, when quarrels arose at any of the banquets, the warriors would not have the means at hand to slay one another! As Douglas Hyde wrote: “Conor’s palace at Emania contained, according to the Book of Leinster, one hundred and fifty rooms, each large enough for three couples to sleep in, constructed of red oak, and bordered with copper. Conor’s own chamber was decorated with bronze and silver, and ornamented with golden birds, in whose eyes were precious stones, and was large enough for thirty warriors to drink together in. Above the king’s head hung his silver wand with three golden apples, and when he shook it silence reigned throughout the palace, so that even the fall of a pin might be heard. A large vat, always full of good drink, stood ever on the palace floor.”

An eighth-century law tract, Críth Gablach, gives a somewhat unrealistic summary of a king’s duties: “There is moreover a weekly order proper for a king, i.e. Sunday for drinking ale, for he is no rightful prince who does not promise ale for every Sunday; Monday for legal business, for adjudicating between tuatha (tribes); Tuesday for chess; Wednesday for watching greyhounds racing; Thursday for marital intercourse; Friday for horse-racing; Saturday for judgements.” A place like Emain Macha would have been the venue for popular assemblies, which served not only as fairs and markets, but for the transaction of public business. These occasions were treated almost as holiday events, with horse-racing, feats of strength and various kinds of amusements on hand.

One of the legends as to how Emain Macha received its name relates to such a fair. Among the many spectators at a chariot race, in which the king’s victorious chariot and horses greatly impressed the crowd, was a man who imprudently boasted that his wife was a faster charioteer. The hapless man was brought straightway before the king, who, when he had heard the proud boast, immediately sent for the unsuspecting woman. However, when the messenger located her, she protested that she was heavy with child and was in no fit state to race. The messenger informed her that in that case things did not augur well for her husband. The woman knew she had no choice but to accompany him. The expectant crowd clamoured for her to race, and it was in vain that she pleaded her condition to them.

Finally she angrily told them that if they forced her to race, a long-lasting evil would fall upon the whole of Ulster. This still wasn’t enough to deter the crowd and she was forced to commence the race. Just as her chariot reached the end of the field, she tumbled from it, and, right before the assembled spectators, gave birth to twins. At the height of her labour she screamed out that in times of greatest danger a debilitating illness — the ‘pangs’ — would seize the warriors of Ulster and leave them lying as helplessly unable to fight as she was now lying in her labour pains. The woman’s name was Macha, and it is said that Emain Macha means the ‘Twins of Macha’.

The Ulster sagas are full of larger than life characters, both men and women. However, there is one who stands out above the others — the hero Cúchulainn, ‘Champion of Ulster’. Born in the plain just south of what is now the Cooley Peninsula in County Louth, his boyhood name was Sétanta, a non-Gaelic name which is cognate with a British tribe who lived in Lancashire, the Setantii, who are mentioned in Ptolemy’s map of the British Isles. One tradition, preserved by Dubhaltach, relates that he belonged to a non-Gaelic tribe called Tuath Tabhairn. In the sagas it also states that he was not of the Ulaid, the Celtic ruling minority in Ulster. The MS Harlean 5280 tells us categorically that “Cú Chulainn was exempt from [the sickness of the Ulstermen], ar nar bó don Ulltaib do, ‘for he was not of the Ulaid’.”

Further, his physical appearance was quite at variance with the physique of the Celts, for while they are usually described as tall, with long flowing fair hair, Cúchulainn is described as short in stature, with close-cropped dark hair, physical attributes more in keeping with the pre-Celtic inhabitants of Ireland, the Pretani. Finally, his inheritance, the plain of Muirthemne, was well-defined Pretani territory. Now, given such an assortment of circumstantial evidence, it could well be speculated that the legend of Cúchulainn emanated from among the majority Pretani population of Ulster. However, although such speculation is the daily and cherished practice of historians, for various reasons most have proven quite touchy in this case — perhaps it disturbs some long-established and jealously-guarded notions — so such speculation will not be indulged in here, and we will return to the hero’s own story.

Filled with an urge to visit Emain Macha and meet the elite fighting force billeted there known as the Warriors of the Red Branch, young Sétanta finally made his farewell to his parents and journeyed to the great citadel. Once there he made an immediate impression on King Conor and his warriors, but not before he had experienced the first of many uncontrollable fits of rage which would overcome him in moments of anger, change his physical appearance alarmingly, and endow him with almost superhuman fighting capability. Indeed, such a fit came upon him after his first border encounter with the enemies of Ulster, and the only way the concerned citizens of Emain Macha were able to prevent many of their own number being counted among his victims was to send the women of Ulster out to meet him, all quite naked. Our hero’s intense embarrassment caused him to falter, and this respite allowed the warriors to seize him and dissipate his rage by plunging him into vats of cold water.

His most famous deed while still a youth was one which would lead to a new name. Asked by Conor to accompany him on a visit to Culann the Smith, Sétanta accepted but requested that he be allowed to complete the game he was then engaged in. Conor agreed and told the youth to follow on behind. However, when the king and his retinue reached their host’s dwelling and the latter ordered the gates of the surrounding palisade to be secured, Conor omitted to mention that a final member of his party was following. Once the gates were secured Culann released his massive guard dog, so powerful that it took three chains to restrain it, with three men on each chain.

The reader can guess what transpired next. Sétanta, arriving outside the palisade, was savagely attacked by the dog, but after a fierce and bloody struggle managed to kill it. Conor and his host had by this time arrived on the scene, and while everyone was delighted that the youth had not only survived, but shown such remarkable fighting ability, Culann was devastated by the loss of such a magnificent guard dog. In an attempt to make amends, Sétanta offered to act as guard in the dog’s place, until such time as a pup of the same fierce breeding could be trained for the task. This suggestion was widely welcomed, and it was further pronounced that henceforth the young Sétanta would be known as ‘Cú Chulainn’, the ‘Hound of Culann’.

However, Cúchulainn’s greatest glory was to be accorded him after he had repelled a massive invasion force which threatened the very survival of Ulster itself.

To be continued

The Ulster People: 8 – The Ulster Cycle

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