Then Emer, white as death, and trembling as a rush that bows before the onward-flowing stream, put forth her hands, and said, “Give me Cuchulain’s head.” But when with reverence Conall placed within her hands Cuchulain’s head, a cry of sorrow and of grief rang out from Emer’s lips, and pierced the souls of all who heard it in the fort. She bent to kiss the head, and at that moment her sad heart broke within her breast, and o’er Dun Dalgan’s rampart Emer fell, her fair hair mingled with the hair of Cuchulain, her mantle rent and torn, and all her lovely face splashed o’er with blood. Gently and reverently they raised her up, and bore her, with the head still clasped within her arms, to where the body of Cuchulain lay. There on Murthemne’s plain they buried them, two lovers and two friends within one tomb, husband and wife. And when the grave was digged and filled again, the Grey of Macha roamed away; through all the fields and furrows of the plain, through all the glens and hills in Erin’s bounds he seemed to search and closely scrutinise, as though to find some being he had lost. But when he found him not, back to the lonely loch among the reeds, where first Cuchulain found and mastered him, he came again; and with one bound he leaped into the very centre of the loch, and so appeared no more. This witnessing, the Black Steed neighed in mournful wise, and went back to the glen in Donegal, and no man dared to seek or follow him, nor ever found they trace of him again.
But to the three times fifty queens who wept for him, the soul of Cuchulain, radiant and noble as in life, appeared once more; and on the ramparts of Emain by night, old warriors tell how, when men are asleep, the spirit-chariot of a spirit-chief, clad in his battle armour as of yore, moves round the walls, guarding the outer ramparts from the foe; and all men sleep in safety, for the Hound of Ulster wakes.
And as, with slow and stately pace the chariot moves, drawn by two noble horses, white and black, a chant goes up upon the midnight air, not like the pagan chants of other days, but sweet and gentle as a summer-song, and with a note of triumph in its sound, telling the coming of a hero-chief, who shall be called the Christ, and who will bring great peace and rest to men. And when that song is heard, rising with its sweet strain o’er all the fort, the fires of war and hate are softened in the chieftains’ hearts, and women smile upon their little babes and hug them to their breasts. And all, the young and old, set forward minds to welcome the new time when wars shall cease, and peace shall come to men.
[Notes on the Sources]
“Táin bó Cuailnge.” The two oldest versions of the long tale of the “Táin bó Cuailnge,” or “Cattle-Raid of Cooley,” from which the main part of Chapters ii.-vi. and ix.-xix. of this book are taken, are those found in the old vellum manuscripts known as the “Leabhar na h-Uidhre” (L.U.), compiled about the year 1100 in the monastery of Clonmacnois on the Shannon, and preserved in the Library of the Royal Irish Academy, Dublin, and that occurring in the Book of Leinster (L.L.), preserved in Trinity College, Dublin, the larger portion of which appears to belong to the twelfth century. A version found in the Yellow Book of Lecan corresponds closely to that in L.U., and seems to contain an even earlier text. The text of this older version is in course of publication in Ériu, the journal of the School of Irish Learning in Dublin, and a translation has been made of it by Miss W. Faraday (Grimm Library Series, vol. xvi.). The lengthy L.L. version has been published with a German translation, and copious notes and glossary, by Dr Ernst Windisch, 1905.
Among the later versions of parts of this long tale, is a copy found in the British Museum (marked Add. 18748) 1800 A.D., which coincides in the main with that of the Book of Leinster. A translation of large portions of this manuscript was contributed by Dr Standish H. O’Grady to the present author’s “Cuchullin Saga in Irish Literature” (Grimm Library, vol. viii.).
The story of “The Education of Cuchulain” in Alba or Scotland, with the amazon Scáth, originally formed part of the tale of “The Wooing of Emer,” but separate accounts exist of these adventures. For the details of Chapter vii., I have drawn partly upon the incidents contained in the longer version of “The Wooing of Emer,” and partly upon two late manuscripts found in the British Museum (Egerton, 106 and 145). These have since been edited by Dr Whitley Stokes in the Revue Celtique, vol. xxix.
“The Wooing of Emer.” This story is taken from Dr Kuno Meyer’s edition of the tale found in Stowe MS. 992, and first published by him in the Archæological Review, vol. i.