CHAPTER V.
ANCIENT BALLADS.

“Thoir an eachdraidh Mhaighstir Dòmhnull
A tha chòmhnaidh ’n cois na tuinne;
An ùrnuigh bha aig Oisein liath-ghlas
Nach robh riamh ach ’na dhroch dhuine.”

English:

To Master Donald take the story;
There he dwells beside the billow;
The prayer said by Ossian hoary,
Who was aye a worthless fellow.

It has been well remarked that each of the literatures of the two branches of our Celtic population was chiefly the utterance of feeling stirred by a great struggle for independence, and that each has at the heart of it “a battle disastrous to the men whose wrestle with an overmastering power is the chief theme of their bards.” The Gaelic struggle and literature began earlier, and its great battle is that of Gabhra, said to have been fought in 284 A.D. In the later Celtic literature of the Cymri the memorable battle described is that of Cattraeth, said to have been fought in 570 A.D.

While Cath Gabhra is the chief theme of the Gaelic bards, individual combats, adventures, and other battles are also rehearsed in the early ballads.

Macpherson’s “Ossian” and Smith’s “Old Lays,” whose authenticity has been so fiercely disputed, are excluded from consideration at present. They will be afterwards examined under the dates of their production. The number of lines in these works and other two poems respectively is:—

Macpherson’s Poems of Ossian 10,232 lines.
Smith’s Old Lays 5,335
Clark’s Mordubh 758
MacCallum’s Collath 504
Total 16,829

Laying aside these 16,829 lines of suspected poetry, there is still the 54,000 lines of ancient poems of unquestioned genuineness in Campbell’s “Leabhar na Féinne,” enough surely to sustain the literary character and genius of our early ancestors.

The ballads which we are now to consider are all genuine and old, and may be found in manuscripts written ages before Macpherson was born.

The Ossianic or Heroic Ballads will be found in the following publications:—The Dean of Lismore’s Book (1512, published 1862); Hill’s (1780); MacArthur’s (1784); Young’s (1784); Gillies’s (1786); Stewart’s (1804); Highland Society’s Report (1805); Turner’s (1813); Grant’s (1814); MacCallum’s (1816); Campbell’s great work (1872). Some of the ballads contained in these books were printed from old manuscripts; others were taken down during the last two or three centuries from the oral recitation of old men, living in all parts of the Highlands.

These collections represent a good deal of industry and literary activity, which reflect very creditably on men who had not the stimulus of a vast reading public to work upon their minds.

THE GENUINE GAELIC BALLADS.

The place in time occupied by these compositions is one of considerable length—it extends at least as far back as the third century of our era. It is very interesting to note that this body of oral popular literature has been loved, preserved, and rehearsed by the Gaelic clans of Albin for at least a thousand years; for a much longer period, indeed, if we rely on fairly credible tradition.

The inter-tribal struggles described in these ballads—the patriotic resistance against the Norse attempts to obtain the supremacy, mixed up as they are with the encroachments of Christianity within the realms of heathenism—took place mainly within the Albinic area. The geographical limits of this area in those early times were very vague and shifting. In a general way they may be said to have embraced the Western Islands, the North-west, and part of the central Highlands, as well as the Isle of Man and Ireland. Over all these regions we watch in these ballads the shadowy movements of our brave ancestors. We hear the faint echoes of their names, and the fame of their deeds, the war-cries and voices of their almost semi-mythic heroes.

We regard the tribes whose deeds are celebrated in these productions under two classes—those of the Cruithne or Albinic race and those who have become known as the Scottish Iro-Gaelic race. At that period there were Cruithne or Picts in Erin as well as in Albin.

Previous to the arrival of Patrick in Ireland and to that of Columba in the Highlands, there is strictly speaking no chronological history of either country. Of the earlier movements of the clans and their battles we have no authentic account. But there are traditions with a highly probable basis of truth sufficient for the purposes of the present Ossianic discussion. Two or three of the central facts of the Finian period, as related in a preceding section, are as follows:—

Finn MacCumhaill lived in the reign of Cormac MacArt who ruled from A.D. 227 to 266, and whose daughter Gràinne he married. Goll MacMorni was a contemporary. Finn was slain in 283, but the bards bring him somehow alive next year to pronounce a eulogy on his grandson, Oscar, who fell in the battle of Gabhra. Ossian and Caoilte lived for a hundred and fifty years longer; and the blind old heathen bard relates the heroic achievements of his departed fellow-heroes to St. Patrick who arrives in Ireland about 432. Chronology did not trouble the old ballad-makers of Albin and Erin. Such an anachronism as brings Ossian of the third, into conjunction with Patrick of the fifth century, did not disturb their heroic muse.

Ireland claimed this Ossian as her own, and her learned doctors declared that Macpherson stole his poems from their country. Two or three words will be sufficient to dispose of all this: 1. Macpherson never was in Ireland; and never kept up any correspondence with Irishmen. 2. The Ossianic poems published by the Dublin Gaelic Society and the Ossianic Society were all collected and made known subsequent to the publication of Macpherson’s Ossian. 3. It is admitted by the late Eugene O’Curry, one of the highest authorities, that prior to the 15th century there existed in Ireland only eleven Ossianic poems, which are extremely short, and which will be found in the Book of Leinster, compiled in the 13th, and in the Book of Lecan in the 15th century. Of these, seven are ascribed to Finn himself, two to Ossian, one to Fergus, and one to Caoilte. This clearly disposes of Ireland’s claim to possess anything like Macpherson’s work. Indeed it has been given up by some who advanced it, while at the same time these writers and others laboured to manufacture and publish poems a la Macpherson; but to the great chagrin of these learned sons of Erin the public will not assign them the same distinction and appreciation, which have been accorded to Macpherson’s productions.

Let us now glance at the genuine, and indisputably ancient Ossianic ballads preserved in Scotland: 1. We have the tragic tale of Deirdri in the Glenmasan MS., bearing the date of 1238, now in the Advocate’s Library. 2. There is a MS. of the 15th century, containing a glossary and a poem of five quatrains, attributed to Ossian. A text the same as this poem is in the Book of Leinster of the 13th century. 3. There is the Book of the Dean of Lismore, compiled between 1512-20 A.D. This book contains 28 Ossianic poems, nine of which are directly attributed to Ossian, two to Fergus, one to Caoilte; two to Allan MacRuairi, and one to GillieCallum Mac an Olla,—these two last bards being hitherto unknown; and there are eleven anonymous ones, which in style and subject belong to the Féinne. These twenty-eight poems extend to 2500 lines, or one-fourth of all Macpherson’s Gaelic poems. The rest of the extant heroic poetry has been collected in the Highlands and Islands, chiefly within the last 150 years; and in the main consists of versions of the same productions that we have in the Book of the Dean of Lismore. They are genuine Highland compositions of an ancient character, and some of them are instructive as showing how far oral transmission during the last 400 years has affected their style and language.

We thus find that the work begun by Sir James Macgregor upwards of 400 years ago, has been taken up at intervals by others since his time. Towards the end of the last, and the beginning of the present century the principal collectors of these ballads appeared. Old men in all parts of the Highlands and Isles, famous for their mnemonic and reciting powers were sought out by educated natives and strangers, and their versions of the old ballads taken down. The last and the greatest of the ballad and tale-collectors was Mr Campbell, who in 1859-60 traversed the whole Gaelic area; and assisted by intelligent Highlanders formed large collections, of which he has given a considerable quantity to the world, in his four volumes of tales. All these are genuine productions of the Gaelic popular mind. No stigma or suspicion attaches to them. Some of them are at least as ancient as the time of Dean Macgregor—400 years ago; and they were regarded as ancient then. In character and spirit they resemble—are in many cases only Scottish versions of—the kindred literature of the Gael of Ireland; and possess much definite value to the student of social life and the philologist.

Although many of those heroic compositions have been probably lost and others marred in their oral transmission, yet enough remains to interest the literary student and the historic antiquary. Upwards of 54,000 lines have been preserved, and are accessible in that truly excellent and scientifically arranged work Leabhar na Féinne. In this body of literature we have indubitable proof of the existence of a large mass of popular literature among the ancient Gaels, who it is evident must have developed considerable taste for ballad, song, and story.

It is hard to assign any date to the composition of these ballads. They may have been composed centuries before they were committed to writing. We have fragments such as the Glen-mason MS. which were written as early as the 12th century, scarcely anything earlier. These are written in the hand and language common to the learned in both Albin and Erin at the time. The book of the Dean of Lismore, however, is written phonetically to represent the spoken language of his day, and is mainly in the Perthshire dialect. The various collections of ballads made between 400 and 70 years ago exhibit different styles of writing, and the unsettled modes of orthography prevalent at the time.

The poetic form of these productions is generally that of the quatrain. Some pieces do not exceed a few stanzas in length, others extend to 80 or 100 quatrains or to between 300 or 400 lines. Many archaic expressions are to be met with; but on the whole when presented in modern orthography they are understood by an ordinary Highlander. Not a few of these phrases, though not generally understood, have been preserved and transmitted even in the oral versions taken down within the last 100 years.

Some of the most ancient ballads relate to Cuchulin and his deeds of deathly valour; others tell the tragic tale of Deirdri; others relate to the Norse wars; and not the least romantic describe the fierce combats and heroic conflicts in which the brave heroes of the Féinne indulged on the shores and plains of Albin and Erin. On many a field of fame, east and west, had the banners of the Finian heroes gleamed and gained renown; but with all their victories they always fell as they went forth to the battle, until they all faded and disappeared “like sungleam in wintry weather.”

THE COCHULIN BALLADS.

Taken in chronological order, the Cochulin ballads come up first for consideration. Much credit is due to Mr Campbell for his attempt at a chronological classification of these productions, a very difficult matter, considering the vagueness, historically, of everything connected with the heroic period. As far as dates of composition are concerned, all that can be safely affirmed is that these ballads were composed between the Christian era and the thirteenth century, some of them undoubtedly belonging to the earlier, and some of them to the later centuries of that period. Copies of many of them were made by Sir James Macgregor, Dean of Lismore, between 1512-26. Then they were regarded as very ancient. Those relating to Cochulin and to his son Conlach are:—Cochulin and Evir; Cochulin’s Sword; Cochulin’s Car; Garbh Mac Stairn; Conlach’s Death; The Heads. According to ancient annals Cochulin lived in the first century. Connal Cearnach Mac Edirskeol is the author of the last-mentioned ballad, The Heads, and the most ancient of all the Heroic poets. Cochulin was his foster-son; and when he was slain Connal revenged himself on his enemies by putting them all to death. In the ballad, Evir, the wife or betrothed of Cochulin, is told the names of those put to death, whose heads he carried on a withe. There is a heroine of Dun sgathaich, Skye, called Aoife, who also is mixed up with Cochulin’s story. The length of the ballad is 96 lines. The following is a literal translation of the first six stanzas:—

Connal, these heads are little worth,
Though in their blood thine arms did’st soil;
These heads thou hast upon the withe
Tell me their owners, now thy spoil.
Daughter of Orgill of the steeds,
Evir, whose words sweet feelings waken,
’Twas to avenge Cochulin’s death
That I these many heads have taken.
Whose is that nearest thy left arm,—
That mighty, hairy, dusky head,—
That head whose colour has not changed,
With cheeks than any rose more red?
The king of fleet steeds owned that head,
Said Cairbar’s son, keen lance in war;
’Twas to avenge my foster-son
I took that head and bore it far.
Whose is that head I see beyond
Inwrapt with soft and flowing hair,
His eye like glass, his teeth like bloom,
With beauty that is peerless there?
Manadh, the one that owned the steeds,
The son of Aoife—pirate true;
I left his trunk without its head,
His people every one I slew.

THE DEIRDRI BALLADS.

The next class is that of the Deirdri Ballads. The story of Deirdri and Clan Uisneach, or the three brothers, Naos, Ainle, and Ardan, sons of Uisneach, is very affecting and tragic. Mr Campbell says:—“The story of Deirdre is related to Indian Epics, and is an Aryan romance which pervades the whole world. A beautiful girl, shut up to baulk a prophecy, is beloved by an old King. She runs away with a family of brothers, and after adventures of many kinds, the story ends in a tragedy.” Connachar, King of Ireland, whose reign is placed about the middle of the first century, was preparing to marry the beautiful princess, Deirdri, when she ran away with the three sons of his sister, Naos, Ainle, and Ardan. They went to Scotland, where they were well received. The names of places in the ballads indicate that it was in Argyllshire they settled. While the brothers were away on some expedition, to Lochlin, it is supposed, Deirdri was left in charge of a “black-haired lad,” it is said, in an islet north of Jura till they would return. The “lad” began to make love to Deirdri in their absence, but they came back opportunely to save her. By this time Connacher sent them a message of peace from Ireland; and believing that the once wrathful monarch was sincere they returned to Ireland. But they were at once met with the hostile forces of the King; and after a fierce struggle the King slew his nephews. When Deirdri saw her beloved Naos and his brothers fall, she rushed forward, bewailing them, and died upon their bodies. There are six or seven versions of this story, the oldest being in the MS. dated 1208, in the Advocates’ Library. It was written at Glenmasan, in Cowal. The versions vary in length. The longest contains upwards of 400 lines. The ballad is sometimes divided into several parts, and some collectors give only one or two parts. It is the part in which Deirdri laments her departure from Scotland that is here translated. This and the Book of Deer are the earliest specimens that we possess of written Gaelic in Scotland.

The glens and other places mentioned in the following farewell of Deirdri are readily identified. The large number of proper names occurring in the piece renders it difficult to give anything more than a very stiff translation, which is almost absolutely literal:—

“Do dech Deardir ar a hèise ar crichibh Alban, agus ro chan an Laoidh”:—
(Deirdri looked back on the land of Albin, and sang this Lay.)

Beloved land, that eastern land!
Alba with waters wide:
With Naos in those happy glens
I wish I could abide!
Beloved Dunfigha and Dunfin;
The Dun above them seen;
Beloved is Inis-Draighnde;
Beloved is fair Dun Sween.
Coille-Chuan! O Coille-Chuan!
Where Ainle comes no more!
Too short, I ween, was there my stay
With Naos on Albin’s shore.
Glen-Laye! O Glen-Laye!
Oft by its stream I lay;
Fish, flesh and fat of badger
My repast in sweet Glen-Laye.
Glen-Masan! O Glen-Masan!
Where fairest boughs are seen;
Lonely was my place of rest
By Inver-Masan green.
Glen-Eitive! O Glen-Eitive!
There my first home was raised;
Beautiful were its woods in morn
When there the sun had blazed.
Glen-Orchay! O Glen-Orchay!
Straight vale of ridges smooth,
Full joyful there round Naos
Were the Glen-Orchay youth.
Glen-Daruadh! O Glen-Daruadh!
I love its men—I love it!
Sweet are the cuckoos on the boughs
On the grey hills above it.
Beloved is Drayen—its sounding shore;
Beloved is Avich of pure sand;
Oh, that I might not leave the east,—
Beloved and happy land.

On this tale, and on its connection with Scottish topography, Dr MacLauchlan says:—“This is one of the most touching in the catalogue of Celtic tales, and it is interesting to observe the influence it exerted over the Celtic mind by its effect upon the topographical nomenclature of the country. There are several Dun Deirdres to be found still. One is prominent on the vale of the Nevis, near Fort-William, and another occupies the summit of a magnificent rock overhanging Loch Ness, in Stratherrick.” Ness, the name of the loch, is thought to be from Naos. Dr Skene remarks—“Adomnan, in his life of St. Columba, written in the seventh century, appears to mention only three localities in connection with St. Columba’s journey to the palace of the King of the Picts, near Lochness, and these are Cainle (Ainle), Arcardan (Ardan), and the flumen Nesae (Naise). Two vitrified forts in the neighbourhood of Lochness are called Dun-Dearduil.” The same authority also observes that “the ancient legends of Cochulin and the sons of Uisneach connect them with those remarkable structures termed vitrified forts.” Dun-Sgathaig and Dun-mhic-Uisneachan are vitrified like Dun-dhearduil. It is suggested that a mythic meaning underlies this topography and story.

THE FINIAN BALLADS.

A class of ballads which is wholly taken up with the Finian heroes proper—with their intercourse and doings among themselves—may be described as Finnic ballads. Finn is the central hero; and the other Finian characters are his attendant satellites.

There was more than one class of heroes known as Féinn, or Fianna:—

1. Féinn of Albin: Albin was north of the firths of the Forth and Clyde.

2. Féinn of Erin: The same class of heroes in Ireland.

3. Féinn of Breatan: Breatan was the southern districts of Scotland, Dunbreatan, or Dumbarton, being the principal seat.

4. Féinn of Lochlin: These according to Tacitus, dwelt on the right shore of the Suevic Sea, or the Baltic, and were called the Aestii.

There are some evidences which indicate that the last also were a Celtic people, who spoke a Celtic language. The inhabitants of this district now form part of the Kingdom of Prussia.

It is the Féinn of Albin and of Erin that the heroic lays generally celebrate. Trenmor, the fifth from Baoisgne, from whom Finn and his followers were called Clanna Baoisgne, was general of the Féinn; Cumhal, his son, was the father of Finn. Oisein, Fergus, Raoidhne, or Rayne, and Cairol were the sons of Finn. Oscar, the son of Oisein, was his grandson; and Diarmad was his nephew, who eloped with his queen, Gràine, daughter of Cormac Mac Art, King of Ireland, A.D. 227. Caoilte, or Cailt, was a relative; and Goll, or Gaul, Conan, and Garaidh were chiefs of the Clann Morna. But the heroes, one after another, soon disappeared. The theme of several of the principal ballads is the deaths of Oscar, Diarmad, Gaul, &c., and lastly, of Ossian himself, who was left alone of all that noble band of heathen heroes. In his last days the blind old bard came in contact with some Christian Patrick, and dialogues of their discussions were for ages repeated in Highland ballads. The following ballad, entitled the “Sweetest Sound,” is a specimen of the less martial kind:—

Once when the kindly feast was spread
On Almhin’s golden slope,
The bards they sang of bliss and woe,
Despair, and love, and hope.
And heroes, as they drained the bowl,
With joy or sadness heard;
For those good harpers as they pleased
Men’s rising feelings stirred.
Lord of the feast there Fingal sat—
His fair hair touched with grey—
Near his first son, the warrior bard,
Strong as the noon of day.
The good MacLuy there conversed
With Oscar, young and bright,
And bald head Conan, rash and bold,
Who never shunned the fight.
And Diarmad there sat, beautiful,
And rolled his eye of blue,
When Fingal spoke, and all the board
His regal question knew.
“Come, tell me now, my chieftains good,
At Fingal’s feast who be,
What sounds are they that form for each
The sweetest harmony?
“What are the notes that charm you most,
And send your cares to flight—
What sound most charms your inmost core,
And thrills you with delight?”
The Conan—the rash Conan spoke—
Of all that company
The first to speak, the first to fight—
The last to think was he.
“The rattling dice I love the most,
When the play is running high;
And my coming chances strain my ear,
And almost blind my eye.”
“When heroes rush together,
When battle wakes around,
With clash, and clang, and crushing blows,
I hear my sweetest sound.”
So Oscar spoke.—Thus Diarmad said,
“When in my secret ear
Sweet woman whispers love for me,
My best loved sound I hear.”
“When first I catch my good hounds’ cry,
Where the proud stag stamps the ground,
And stands at bay,” MacLuy said,
“I hear my sweetest sound.”
Then Fingal said, “My music is
The banner’s fluttering fold,
When winds blow free, and the brave I see
Beneath its streaming gold.”
Alas! alas! my sweetest sound
Was once in Fingall’s hall;
To hear bards sing and heroes speak,
And now they’ve perished all!

The above has been translated by Pattison, and I use his rendering. It gives us a good picture of a social gathering of the Finian heroes. The bowl goes round, the harpers begin, and the warriors deliver themselves successively on the objects which most moved their hearts. Fingal sat there as lord of the feast, and directed their intercourse. Conan, rash and thoughtless, but bold, loves the rattling dice; Oscar loves the waking of battle, Diarmad the whispering of woman’s love, MacLuy the hound in the chase. Fingal himself delights in the banner fluttering over the brave in battle, and Ossian, as usual, regretfully declares that his sweet sound was once in the hall of Fingal, who now with his heroic followers have all perished.

The titles of some of the other ballads are Ossian’s Lament, Cailte and the Giant, &c. We have a special set in several dialogues between Ossian and Patrick on the Féinn and their exploits, and on the comparative merits of the Christian religion and the stories of the Féinne. One of them is called Oisein agus an Cleireach, or Ossian and the Cleric, in which we have a description of a battle between the Finians and the Norse. The saint is very agreeable in this poem, very unlike what he is in Ossian’s Prayer, and concedes much to the bard, so much, indeed, that he is willing to rear an altar, not to God, but to Finn! It is difficult to say whether the ballad refers to a Manus, or Magnus, of the third or of the twelfth century. Actually known historic facts favour the latter. The length of the ballad varies; some of the versions are upwards of two, some three hundred lines long.

I here translate the first few verses:—

Ossian.—O Cleric, that singest the psalms!
Rude are thy thoughts I ween;
Hearest thou a little my songs
On the Féinn thou hast never seen?
Cleric.—’Tis thine to delight in the songs
Of the Féinn whom thou didst see—
Sounds of psalms on my lips are sweeter
Than Finian rhymes to me.
O.—If thou darest liken thy psalms
To the Finian arms blood-red,
Cleric! I swear I would sever
By blade from its trunk thy head.
C.—Great Bard! I compare them not;
The lay of thy lips is sweet;
Let us raise an altar to Finn,
And render him praise complete.
O.—Kind Cleric! if thou wert south-west
At the Fall of the soft-flowing stream
Where it hastens to join the sea,
The Féinn thou wouldest greatly esteem.
C.—Blessed be the soul of that hero!
Who fought in his violent might—
Mac-Cuhail, the chief of the host,
Renowned in the field of fight.
O.—One day we were hunting for red-deer,
And failing to meet with game,
Ten thousand barks were seen,
And towards the shore they came.
We all stood there on the plain;
Fins gathered on every side;
Round the son of the daughter of Teig,
Flocked full seven tribes in their pride.
Their galleys they rushed ashore,—
That host of the blades blood-red;
They were many the tents of cloth
That they reared above their head.
They hastened along from the woods,
And put on their armour bright,—
The weapons on shoulders great
As they moved from the shore for fight.
To his heroes Mac-Cuhail spoke,—
“These foes you have known before?
You know how this cruel race
Wakes warfare along our shore?”
It was then that Conan replied,—
“Who are these that came o’er the sea?
Knowest thou who is chief, Finn of battles?
The flower of Norse Kings is he!”
F.—“Who will go from the ranks of the Féinn
To get word from the hostile host?
My favour he’ll have if he brings
Tidings sincere from the coast.”
Then Conan made answer again—
“Whom should’st thou send, O King,
But Fergus, thy prudent son;
Wise word, I ween, he’ll bring.”
“Let my curse take thee, bald-headed Conan,”
Said Fergus of gentlest face;
“I will go, but ’tis not at thy voice,
To get word from this Lochlin race.”
Young Fergus, all armed, went off
Those heroes to meet on the way;
He mildly inquired, “What people
Came over the sea that day?”
Magnus, all bloody and fierce,
Son of the red-shielded Bede,
Was Chief King of Lochlin—well fitted
Proud armies of men to lead.
“What moved thee, thou cruel man,
From the kingdom of Lochlin’s shore?
Unless thou hast come our heroes
To multiply more and more.”
“I vow by thy hand, mild Fergus,
Though brave be the Féinn of thy pride;
We’ll make no terms with Finn without Bran,
And his wife we will take from his side.”
“Ere Bran thou shalt get our heroes
Will try all thy strength in the strife,
And Finn thou must meet in fierce combat
Ere thou canst take captive his wife.”

Since the days of Eve and Helen women have been the cause of much evil and strife; and many of the sore troubles of the Féinn arose from the bewitching charms which their Gaelic maidens and mothers possessed. The chief King of the Lochlins came to the shore of Albin with “ten thousand barks”—the Northmen’s galleys must have been very numerous in those times, our British navy of the present day would be small in comparison—determined to possess himself of the dog and wife of Finn, the Caledonian monarch. In these days this might seem a small casus belli indeed; but it must be remembered that the dog Bran was a most remarkable one; the posthumous poetic honours that have been paid to this canine worthy have far exceeded those that Byron has given his favourite. As to the Caledonian Queen, the elopement of Graine with Diarmad must not be forgotten; indeed, it may help to explain the formidable descent of Magnus on the shores of Albin. To put chivalrous heroes under geasan was then a favourite pastime among Gaelic ladies. And, being the weaker sex, it was well that they should be invested with enchanting or supernatural power that would somehow afford them protection in the midst of the turbulent, ruthless forces by which they were surrounded in those days. The battle and its results are described in thirty verses more. The Norse invaders were worsted; Finn and Magnus met in single combat; “stones and the heavy earth were wakening under the soles of their feet.” At last the unfortunate Magnus was overcome. Though unbecoming a king, he was bound hands and feet; but ultimately he receives kind and chivalrous treatment from Finn; and he repents of his conduct towards him, to whose mercy he said he would trust when he heard the bald Conan—who was “ever drinking”—express a wish to be allowed to sever his head from his body. The author—the ballad is put into the mouth of Ossian of course—concludes with the declaration that he and his father and Gaul performed the greatest feats that day, though they are now “without strength,” compelled to listen to psalm-singing clerics.

A particularly interesting poem—one of the many dialogues between Ossian and Patrick—is called Ossian’s Prayer. I translate a few verses of the beginning of Macnicol’s version, which will give an idea of the piece. It is about 150 lines in length. The author makes Ossian a thorough heathen, who prefers the glories of Finian deeds and fame to all the Christian prospects that Patrick can unfold.

Ossian.
O Patrick of the reading
To me a story tell;
Say do the Féinn of Erin
In Heaven high now dwell?
Patrick.
Let me tell thee truly, Ossian,
To whom fame is given;
That thy father, Gaul and Oscar,
Can not be in Heaven.
O.   Sorry be the tale, O Patrick,
Which thou art telling me;
If Erin’s Féinn are not in Heaven
Why should I Christian be?
P.   Grievous be thy story, Ossian,
Fierce thy words have grown;
What are all the Féinn of Erin
To one hour with God alone?
O.   I would rather see one battle
Waged by valiant Finn
Than to see that Lord of heaven
And thou cleric chaunting sin.
P.   Although the humming fly be small
A mote beneath its wing
Can not be hid unknown to Him
Who reigns as mighty King.
O.   Think you that He was like Mac Cùil,
The brave and mighty Finn?
Into whose presence all on earth
Could freely enter in?
P.   Ossian, long art thou in slumber;
The psalms make thy delight,
Since thou hast lost thy strength and fame,
And ne’er again can fight.
O.   If I have lost my strength and fame,
And nought of Finian worth remains,
Thy cleric rank I slightly prize
With all its gloomy strains.

Poor Ossian will not receive the new doctrine of the saint; and his arguments with Patrick are not of a very edifying character. The saint, in order to convey to the bard some conception of the Creator’s omniscience, says that it would not be possible for the smallest midge to enter heaven without His knowledge. But the bard exclaims in reply, that that was very different from Finn, son of Cuhal, in his hospitable hall. Thousands might enter, partake of his cheer, and depart without notice. At last Patrick gets somewhat impatient with his rather unsatisfactory pupil, and requests Ossian to give up his elegiac strains over the departed glory of the Clan Baoisgne, and relate the particulars of some hunt, battle, or adventure. The old warrior-bard is nothing loth, and is consoled for the moment by the recital of the deeds of his perished kinsmen, the Fianna. As usual he ends with a wild burst of sorrow for having survived them all.

Ossian and Evir-Alin” has been a great favourite. In this ballad we have the great poet’s wooing of the beautiful Evir described. He sets out with twelve youths to ask the daughter of Branno “of the silver beakers.” Hitherto the maiden refused the sons of kings and nobles, and even the great gloomy chieftain Cormac, whom she particularly disliked. After necessary preliminary questions the ballad (in Pattison’s translation) proceeds:—

“High is the place, O Ossian!
Do men’s tongues to thee assign;
If I twelve daughters had,” said Branno,
“The best of them should be thine.”
Then they opened the choice and spare chamber,
That was shielded with down from the cold;
The posts of its door were of polished bone,
And the leaves were of good yellow gold.
And as soon as the bright Evir-Alin
Saw Ossian, great Fingal’s son,
The love of her maiden youth
By me, proud hero, was won.
Then we left the dark lake of Lego
And homeward took our way;
But Cormac, fierce Cormac, waylaid us,
Intent on the furious fray.
Eight heroes had followed their Chieftain,
And their men behind them stood;
The hillside flamed with their armour,
Their spears were raised like a wood.
Eight came with Ossian the lofty,
All equal to shield him in war.

Then the heroes met face to face, and the strife was fierce and long. Ossian and Cormac at last met in personal combat with the following result: