BRICRIU'S FEAST & THE
WAR OF WORDS OF THE
WOMEN OF ULSTER ©
by Joanne
McLain
(Joanne McLain is one of the outstanding students in the Hazel Grove School of Bardic Wisdom. Here is her poetic re-telling of this well known Irish legend.)
Bricriu of the Bitter Tongue made a great feast
For Conchubar, son of Ness, and the great men of Ulster.
The length of a year he spent readying the feast;
A great house to hold it in he built at Dun-Rudraige,
In the likeness of Emain’s House of the Red Branch,
But entirely beyond all the buildings of that time
In shape and substance, in plan and ornament,
In pillars and facing, in doors and carvings,
So that it was spoken of in all parts.
Nine divisions from hearth to wall it had,
And every division faced with bronze and overlaid with gold,
Thirty feet high in the drinking hall.
A royal seat there was, made for Conchubar,
High above the others, set with carbuncles
And precious stones of all colors
That shone like gold and silver,
Making the night the same as the day.
Around it were the seats for the twelve heroes of Ulster.
Good as the material was, the work was just as good.
Six horses brought home every beam,
The strength of six men fixed every pole,
Thirty of the best-skilled men of Ireland were ordering and directing.
A sunny parlour for Bricriu himself was set level with Conchubar’s seat,
With windows of glass on every side, the better to see inside the hall.
When all was done and furnished and stocked,
With nothing wanting, he set out for Emain Macha,
Where he was made welcome.
"Come with me to a feast I have made ready," he asked;
Conchubar agreed, "If the men of Ulster are willing."
"We will not go, for if we do, our dead will be more
Than our living, after Bricriu has set us to quarrel
With one another," they said.
Bricriu answered: "It will be worse for you if you do not come.
I will stir up strife between the kings and the leaders,
The heroes of valour, and the swordsmen, till every one
Makes and end of the other, if they will not come to my feast."
"We will not go for the sake of pleasing you," Conchubar said,
But Bricriu went on: ‘I will stir up anger between father and son,
So they will be the death of one another.
If I fail at that, I will make a quarrel between mother and daughter;
If that fails, I will put the two breasts of every Ulster woman
Striking against and destroying the other.
"It is better for us to go," said Fergus.
"Some harm will come of it," said Conchubar,
"If we do not consult together against this man."
Sencha advised "It is best for you to get securities
From him and make him leave the house as soon
As he has laid out the feast for you."
"I am satisfied with that," answered Bricriu.
The men of Ulster set out from Emain,
Host, troop, and company under king, chief, and leader,
A good march they made together to Dun-Rudraige.
Then Bricriu went over to Laegaire Buadach:
"All good be with you, Laegaire, Winner of Battles,
You mighty mallet of Bregia, you hot hammer of Meath,
You flame-red thunderbolt, what hinders you
From getting the championship of Ireland forever?"
"If I want it, I can get it," said Laegaire.
"The Champion’s Portion of my house is worth fighting for"
Bricriu told him, "for it is not the portion of a fool’s house:
A vat of good wine, with room enough to hold three
Of the brave men of Ulster; with that a seven-year-old boar,
Fed since birth on no other thing but fresh milk,
And fine meal in spring-time, curds and sweet milk in summer,
The kernel of nuts and wheat in harvest, beef and broth in the winter;
With that a seven-year-old bullock that never had in its mouth
Either heather or twig tops, but only sweet milk and herbs,
Meadow hay and corn; Along with that, five-score
Wheaten cakes made with honey.
That is the Champion’s Portion of my house.
And since you are yourself the best hero among the men of Ulster,
It is but right to give it to you."
"There will be dead men if that is not done," said Laegaire.
Then Bricriu laughed, for he liked to hear that.
Briciu went on to meet with Conall Cearnach.
"May good be with you, Conall," he said,
"It is you are the hero of fights and of battles;
It is many victories you have won. By the time
The men of Ulster cross the boundary of a strange country,
It is three days and three nights in advance of them you are,
Over many a ford and river; it is you who protect their rear
Coming back again, so that no enemy can get past you.
What would hinder you from being given the Champion’s Portion
Of Emain to hold for ever?" When he was satisfied that Conall
Was stirred up to a quarrel, he went on to Cuchulain.
"May all good be with you, Cuchulain, conqueror of Bregia,
Bright banner of the Life, beloved by wives and maidens.
You are the champion of the men of Ulster; It is you keep off their quarrels;
It is you get justice for every man of them;
It is you have what all men are wanting in;
All men of Ulster acknowledge that your bravery, your valour,
And your deeds are beyond their own.
Why, then, would you leave the Champion’s Portion for some other man,
When not one of them would be able to keep it from you?"
"By the god of my people," Cuchulain said, "whoever tries to keep it from me
Will lose his head." Bricriu left as if he had done nothing
To stir up a quarrel.
The men of Ulster came to the feasting-houses
And everyone took his place within:
King, prince, landowner, swordsman, and young fighting man.
Conchubar was attended by all the chief men of Ulster,
With the young men and the song-makers.
Bricriu spread out the feast with its savory meats,
Then was ordered by his sureties to leave the hall.
On the threshold, he turned and called out:
"The Champion’s Portion of my house is not the portion of a fool’s house;
Let it be given to whoever you think the best hero of Ulster."
And with that he left them.
The chariot-driver of Laegaire rose up and said to them,
"Let you give the Champion’s Portion to Laegaire,
For he has the best right to it of all the young men of Ulster."
Then Id, chariot-driver to Conan Cearnach, rose up
And bade them to give it to his master.
But Laeg said, "It is to Cuchulain it must be brought,
For he is the bravest of you all."
With that, they put on their shields and took hold of their swords;
They struck at each other till the one half of the hall was as if on fire
And the other was while as chalk with the whiteness of the shields.
There was fear on the whole gathering; there was great anger on Conchubar
To see the injustice of Conall and Laegaire both attacking Cuchulain.
Sencha said, "It is time for you to part these men."
Conchubar and Fergus came between them.
Sencha said, "My advice is, for this night,
To divide the Champion’s Portion among the whole gathering;
After that let it be settled according to the judgement of Ailell,
King of Connaught, for it will be better for the men of Ulster
To settle this in Cruachan."
So they sat down to the feast again, gathered round the fire,
Drank and made merry.
Bricriu began to search his mind how he could best stir up
The women to quarrel as he had stirred up the men.
Just then Fedelm of the Fresh Heart came from the hall
With fifty women after her, laughing and merry.
Bricriu went to meet her. "All good be with you tonight,
Wife of Laegaire. Fresh Heart is no nickname for you,
For your appearance and your wisdom and your family.
I would not think well of it that any of the women of Ulster
Should go before you into the hall, for it is at your heel
That all the other women of Ulster should walk.
If you go first into the hall tonight, you will be queen
Over them all for ever and ever."
Fedelm went on after that, the length of three ridges from the hall.
Then came out Lendabair, wife of Conall Cearnach.
"Good be with you, Lendabair; and that is no nickname,"
Bricriu told her," for you are the darling of the men of the world,
Because of the brightness of your beauty.
As far as your husband is beyond the whole world in bravery,
So are you before the women of Ulster."
Then Emer came out and fifty women after her. "Health be with you,
Emer, wife of the best man in Ireland! Emer of the Beautiful Hair
Is no nickname for you; so far as the sun outshines the stars of heaven,
So far do you outshine the women of the world."
The three women went on till they met at one spot,
Three ridges from the house, then set out to return.
Their walk was even and quiet and easy on the first ridge;
But on the next ridge their steps were closer and quicker;
And when they came to the ridge next to the house,
It was hardly one on them could keep up with the other,
So that they took up their skirts nearly to their knees,
Each one trying to get first into the hall,
To be queen of the province, as Bricriu had said.
And such was the noise they made in their race,
It was like the noise of forty chariouts coming.
The whole palace shook and all the men started up for their arms.
"Stop," said Sencha, "it is not enemies that are coming,
It is Bricriu has set the women quarrelling.
Unless the hall is shut against them, those that are dead among us
Will be more than those that are living."
With that, the doorkeepers shut the doors.
Emer was quicker than the other women and put her back to the door,
Calling to the doorkeepers. Each man rose up, each to open the door
For his own wife to be first to come within.
"It is a bad night this will be," said Conchubar, and he struck his silver rod
Against the bronze hall-post. They all sat down.
"Quiet yourselves," said Sencha, "it is not a war of arms we have heare,
But a war of words."
Fedelm was the first to speak: "The mother who bore me
Was free, noble, equal to my father; the blood in me is royal.
I am counted beautiful in form and in shape and in appearance;
I was brought up to good behaviour, to courage, to mannerly ways.
Look at Laegaire, my husband, and what his red hand does for Ulster.
It was by himself alone its boundaries were kept from the enemies;
He is beyond all heroes; his victories are greater.
Why should not I, Fedelm, the beautiful, the lovely, the joyful,
Be the first to step into the drinking-hall tonight?"
Then Lendabair spoke: "I myself have beauty too,
And good sense and carriage; it is I should walk into the hall
With free, even steps before all the women of Ulster,
Fore my husband is pleasant Conall of the great shield;
He is proud, going with brave steps up to the spears of the fight;
He is proud coming back to me after it
With the heads of his enemies in his hands.
He is a hero will have a stone raised over him.
Who can speak against his courage or his deeds?
All eyes look on the glory of Lendabair;
Why would she not go first into the hall of the king?"
Then Emer spoke: "There is no woman comes up to me in appearance,
In shape, in wisdom; There is no one comes up to me
For goodness of form, or brightness of eye, or good sense,
Or kindness, or good behaviour.
No one has the joy of loving or the strength of loving that I have;
All Ulster desires me; surely I am the nut of the heart.
If I were a light woman, there would not be a husband left
To any of you tomorrow.
And my husband is Cuchulain.
He is not a hound that is weak; there is blood on his spear,
There is blood on his sword, his body is black with blood,
His soft skin is furrowed with sword cuts,
There are many wounds on his thigh.
But the flame of his eyes is turned westward; he is the strong protector;
His chariot is red; he fights from over the ears of horses,
From over the breath of men; he leaps in the air like a salmon
When he makes his hero leap; he does strange feats:
The dark feat, the blind feat, the feat of nine;
He breaks down armies in the hard fight;
He saves the life of proud armies;
He finds joy in the terror of the ignorant.
Your fine heroes of Ulster are not worth a stalk of grass
Compared with my husband; he is like the clear red blood,
They are like the scum and the leavings, worth no more than grass.
Your fine women of Ulster, they are shaped like cows and led like cows,
When they are put beside the wife of Cuchulain.
When the men in the hall heard what the women said,
Laegaire and Conall rushed at the wall and broke a plank,
To let their own wives in. But Cuchulain raised up the house
So that the stars and sky could be seen. By that opening
Emer came in with the fifty women that waited on her.
None of the other women could be compared with Emer,
And no one at all could be compared with her husband.
Cuchulain let fall the wall he had lifted,
So that seven feet of it went into the ground
And the whole house shook; Bricriu’s upper room was laid flat,
And Bricriu and his wife were thrown into the dirt among the dogs.
"My grief," cried Bricriu, "enemies are come in!"
He was so covered with dirt that no one could know him;
It was only by his way of speaking they made out who he was.
"It is a pity I ever made a feast for you, men of Ulster.
My house is more to me than anything else I have.
I put geasa on you not to drink or eat or sleep
Till you leave my house the same way as you found it."
"There is nothing to do," said Sencha, "but to ask
The man that pulled it crooked to set it straight again."
Bricriu said to Cuchulain: "O king of the heroes of Ireland,
Unless you can set it up straight, there is no man
In the world can do it." And all the men of Ulster
Begged Cuchulain to settle the matter.
And that they might not have to go without food or drink,
Cuchulain rose up to lift the house with a tug, but failed.
Anger came on him then, and the hero light shone about him,
He put out all his strength, and strained himself
Till a man’s foot could find place between each of his ribs,
And he lifted the house up till it was as straight as it was before.
After that they enjoyed the feast, with the chief men on the one side
Round about Conchubar, and their wives on the other side.
There was soon a buzzing of words in the hall again,
With the women praising their men, as if to stir up another quarrel.
Sencha got up and shook his bell branch, and they all stopped to listen.
"Have done with this word-fighting, lest you drive the men of Ulster
To grow white-faced in the anger and the pride of battle.
It is through the fault of women the shields of men are broken,
Heroes go out to fight and struggle with one another in their anger.
It is the folly of women brings men to do these things,
To bruise what they cannot bind up again,
To strike down what they cannot raise up again.
Wives of heroes, keep yourself from this."
But Emer answered him: "It is right for me to speak, Sencha,
And I the wife of the comely, pleasant hero, who is beyond all others
In beauty, in wisdom, in speaking. No one can do his feats,
No one can throw himself against hard-spiked places the way he does.
There is no one his equal in youth, in form, in brightness,
In birth, in mind, in voice, in bravery, in boldness, in fire, in skill;
No one his equal in hunting, in running, in strength, in victories, in greatness.
There is no man to be found who can be put beside Cuchulain."
"If it is truth you are speaking, Emer," said Conan Cearnach,
"Let this lad of feats stand up, that we may see them."
"I will not," said Cuchulain, "I am tired and broken today,
I will do no more till after I have had food and sleep."
It was true what he said, for it was on that morning
He had met with the Grey of Macha by the side of the grey lake
At Slieve Fuad. He had slipped his hands round the neck of the horse,
And the two of them struggled and wrestled with one another
All round Ireland, till late in the day he brought the horse home again,
To Emain. It was the same way he got the Black Sainglain
From the black lake of Sainglen.
And Cuchulain said "But I swear by the gods my people swear by,
I would be ready to fight with any man of you if I had but my fill
Of food and of sleep."
"Well," said Bricriu, "this has gone on long enough.
Let food and drink be brought, and let the women’s war
Be put a stop to till the feast is done.
It was a pleasant time they had
Till the end of three days and three nights.
Joanne McLain lives in a rural area southeast of Denver, Colorado, with her husband, two children and a menagerie of animals, including dairy and Angora goats, rabbits, turkeys, dogs, cats, an iguana and a canary. She develops and manages programs for families involved in the local social services system. She has a master's degree in Psychology and a Ph.D. in Educational Leadership and Innovation and has been a mental health and substance abuse therapist for over twenty years. She is also a reflexologist and the coauthor (writing as Epona Maris) of The Fondis Chronicles, a collection of "magical realism" stories and poems. Visit Joanne at www.fondispublishing.com.
Bricriu's Feast & the War of Words of the Women of Ulster copyright © 2007 by Joanne McLain, all
rights reserved. Used with permission. Top of Page
Earthsongs: International Journal of the Society of Celtic Shamans copyright © 2007 by Elder Grove Press and content providers. All rights reserved. International copyright laws prohibit reproduction of or distribution of this page by any means whatsoever, electronic or otherwise, without first obtaining the written permissions of the copyright holders. We retain legal counsel to protect our copyrights.