The Destruction of Dind Rig.
Book
of Leinster
Whence
is the Destruction of Dind rig? Easy to say. Cobthach the
Meagre of Bregia, the son of Ugaine the Great, was king of
Bregia, but Loegaire Lore, son of Ugaine, was king of Eriu.
He, too, was a son of Ugaine the Great. Cobthach was
envious towards Loegaire concerning the kingship of Erin,
and wasting and grief assailed him, so that his blood and
his flesh wasted away. Wherefore he was sur named the
Meagre of Bregia, and Loegaire’s murder was brought about.
So Loegaire was called to Cobthach that he might leave him
his blessing before he died. Now when Loegaire went in to
his brother the leg of a hen’s chick is broken on the floor
of the house. 'Unlucky was thine illness', says Loegaire.
'This is fitting’, says Cobthach: ‘all has departed, both
blood and bone, both life and wealth. Thou hast done me
damage, my lad, in breaking the lien’s leg. Bring it hither
that I may put a bandage round it.’ ‘Woe is me’, says
Loegaire, ‘the man has decay and destruction: he is
delivered into neglect.’ ‘Come tomorrow’, says Couthach,
‘that my tomb be raised by thee, and that my pillar-stone
be planted, my assembly of mourning be held, and my
burial-paean be performed; for I shall die swiftly.’
‘Well’, says Loegaire, ‘it shall be done.’
‘Well, then’, saith Cobthach to his queens and his steward,
‘say ye that I am dead, but let none other know it, and let
me be put into my chariot with a razor-knife in my right
hand. My brother will come to me vehemently, to bewail me,
and will throw himself upon me. Mayhap he will get somewhat
from me.’
This was true. The chariot is brought out. His brother came
to bewail him. He comes and flings himself down upon
Cobthach, who plunges the knife into Loegaire at the small
of his back, so that its point appeared at the top of his
heart, and thus Loegaire died, and was buried in Druim
Loegairi.
Loegaire left a son, even Ailil of Ane. He assumed the
kingship of Leinster. The first patricide did not seem
enough to Cobthach, so he gave silver to some one who
administered a deadly drink to Ailill, and thereof he died.
After that, Cobthach took the realm of Leinster. Now Ailill
of Ane had left a son, even MOen Ollam. Now he was dumb
until be became a big man. One day, then, in the play
gTound, as he was hurling, a hockey-stick chanced over his
shin. ‘This has befallen me!’ says he. ‘Moen speaks
(labraid)’, say the lads. From that time Labraid was his
name.
The men of Eriu are summoned by Cobthach to partake of the
Feast of Tara. Labraid went, like every one, to partake of
it. Now when they were most gloriously consuming the
banquet, the eulogists were on the floor, lauding the king
and the queens, the princes and the nobles.
‘Well then’, says Cobthach, ‘know ye who is the most
hospitable in Erin?’ ‘We know’, says Craiphtine (the
Harper), ‘it is Labraid Loingsech, son of Ailill. I went to
him in spring, and he killed his only ox for me.’ Says
Ferchertne the Poet: ‘Labraid is the most hospitable man we
know. I went to him in winter, and lie killed his only cow
for me, and he possessed nothing but her’.
‘Go ye with him then!’ says Cobthach, ‘since lie is more
hospitable than I.’
‘He will not be the worse of this’, says Craiphtine, ‘and
thou wilt not be the better.’
‘Out of Erin with you then’, says Cobthach, ‘so long as
thou art alive!’
‘Unless we find our place of refuge in it’, says the lad.
They are then rejected. ‘Whither shall we go?’ says the
lad. ‘Westwards’, answered Ferchertne.
So forth they fare to the king of the Men of Morca, the Men
of Morca that dwelt about Luachair Dedad in the west.
Scoriath is he that was their king.
‘What has brought you?’ asked Scoriath.
‘Our rejection by the king of Erin.’
‘Ye are welcome’, says Scoriath. ‘Your going or your
staying will be the same to us so long as I am alive. Ye
shall have good comradeship’, says the king.
Scoriath had a daughter, whose name was Moriath. They were
guarding her carefully, for no husband fit for her had been
found at once. Her mother was keeping her. The mother’s two
eyes never slept at the same time, for one of the two was
watching her daughter. Howbeit the damsel loved Labraid.
There was a plan between her and him. Scoriath held a great
feast for the Men of Morca. This is the plan they made--
after the drinking, Craiphtine should play the
slumber-strain, so that her mother should fall asleep and
Labraid should reach the chamber. Now that came to pass.
Craiphtine hid not his harp that night, so that the queen
fell asleep, and the loving couple came together.
Not long afterwards the queen awoke. ‘Rise, O Scoriath!’
says he. ‘Ill is the sleep in which thou art. Thy daughter
has a woman’s breath. Hearken to her sigh after her lover
has gone from her.’
Then Scoriath rose up. ‘Find out who has done this’, quoth
he, ‘that he may be put to the sword at once!’ No one knew
who had done it. ‘The wizards and the poets shall lose
their heads unless they find out who has done it.’ ‘It will
be a disgrace to thee’, says Ferchertne, ‘to kill thine own
house hold.’ ‘Then thou thyself shalt lose thy head unless
thou tellest.’ ‘Tell’, quotli Labraid: “tis enough that I
only should be ruined.’
Then said Ferchertne: ‘The lute hid no music from
Craiphtine’s harp till he cast a deathsleep on the hosts,
so that harmony was spread between Moen and marriageable
Moriath of Morca. More to her than any price was Labraid’.
‘Labraid’, says lie, ‘forgathered with her after ye had
been lulled by Craiplitine’s harp.’
In this lie betrayed his companions.
‘Well then’, says Scoriath, ‘until tonight we have not
chosen a husband for our daughter, because of our love for
her. But if we had been choosing one, ‘tis lie whom we have
found here. Let drinking take place within’, says the king,
‘and let his wife be put at Labraid’s hand. And I will
never part from him till he be king of Leinster.’
Then Labraid’s wife came to him and sleeps with him.
And thereafter they deliver a hosting of the Munster--men
till they reached Dind rig for the first destruction. And
they were unable to destroy it until the warriors outside
made a deceptive plan, namely, that Craiphtine should go on
the rampart of the fortress to play the slumber-strain to
the host within, so that it might be overturned, and that
the host out side should put their faces to the ground and
their fingers in their ears that they might not hear the
playing.
So that was done there, and the men inside fell asleep, and
the fortress was captured, and the garrison was
slaughtered, and the fortress was sacked.
Now Moriatli was on the hosting. She did not deem it
honourable to put her fingers into her ears at her own
music, so that she lay asleep for three days, no one daring
to move her. Whence said Flann Mac Lónáin:
‘As great Moriath slept before the host of Morca more--than
any tale - when Dind rig was sacked --course without a
fight--when the hole-headed lute played a melody’.
Thereafter Labraid took the realm of Leinster, and he and
Cobthach were at peace, and his seat was at Dind rig.
Once upon a time, however, when he had taken it, and
Cobthach had the full kingship, he induced this Cobthach to
do his will and meet his desire. So a house was built by
him to receive Cobthach. Passing strong was the house: it
was made of iron, both wall and floor and doors. A full
year were the Leinstermen abuilding it, and father would
hide it from son, and mother from daughter, husband from
wife, and wife from hus band, so that no one heard from
another what they were going about, and for whom they were
gathering their gear and their fittings. To this refers the
proverb: ‘not more numerous are Leinstermen than their
secrets’. Where the house was built was in Dind rig.
Then Cobthach was invited to the ale and the feast, and
with him went thirty kings of the kings of Erin. Howbeit
Cobthach was unable to enter the house until Labraid’s
mother and his jester went in. This is what the jester
chose as his reward for doing so: the benediction of the
Leinsternien, and the freedom of his children forever. Out
of goodness to her son the woman went. On that night
Labraid himself was managing household matters.
On the morrow he went to play against the lads in the
meadow. His fosterer saw him, lie plies a one-stemmed thorn
on Labraid’s back and head. ‘Apparently’, saith he, ‘the
murder thou hast to do is a murder by a boy! Ill for thee,
my lad, to invite the king of Erin with thirty kings, and
not to be in their presence, meeting their desire.’
Then Labraid dons his mantle and goes to them into the
house. ‘Ye have fire, and ale and food brought into the
house.’ ‘Tis meet’, says Cobthach. Nine men had Labraid on
the floor of the house. They drag the chain that was out of
the door behind them, and cast it on the pillar-stone in
front of the house; and the thrice fifty forge-bellows they
had around it, with four warriors at each bellows, were
blown till the house became hot for the host.
‘Thy mother is there, O Labraid!’ say the warriors.
‘Nay, my darling son’, says she. ‘Secure thine honour
through me, for I shall die at all events.’
So then Cobthach Coel is there destroyed, with seven
hundred followers and thirty kings around him, on the eve
of great Christmas precisely. Hence is said: Three hundred
years--victorious reckoning--before Christ’s birth, a holy
coii ception, it was not fraternal, it was evil--Loegaire
Lorc was slain by Cobthach Coel. Cobthach Coel with thirty
kings, Labraid... slew Lugaid. Loegaire’s grandson from the
main, in Dind rig the host was slain.
And ‘tis of this that Ferchertne the poet said: ‘Dind rig,
which had been Tuairn Tenbath,’ etc.
i.e. ‘Main Ollam’ he was at first, ‘Labraid Moen’ after
wards, but ‘Labraid the Exile’, since he went into exile,
when lie gained a realm as far as the Ictian Sea, and
brought the many foreigners with him to Ireland, to wit,
two thousand and two hundred foreigners with broad lances
in their hands, from which the Laigin (Leinsterrnen) are so
called. This is the Destruction of Dind rig.