The Lay of Diarmaid

I HAVE already referred to a note by Mrs. Mac-

Tavish on this subject, vol. ii. 489. She tells how she learned Dan an Dearg (the Song of the Red) more than sixty years ago, from a ploughman who used to chant it at his work; and she adds:—

“The subject of the song is Diarmaid O Duine, or Dearg as he was sometimes called. Diarmid was, as I daresay you know, the progenitor of the clan Campbell, who are called at times Siol Diarmid, at other times Clann Duine. I never heard who his wife was, but she was esteemed a virtuous and worthy person; yet she had enemies, who wished to persuade her husband that she did not love him, and who concerted a plot to prove her fidelity. Diarmid was a great sportsman, as all Fingalians were, and hunted wild boars, which, it would appear, were numerous in the Scottish forests at that period. The sport at times proved fatal to those engaged in it. Pretended friends persuaded Diarmid to pretend that he was killed by one of those animals. They put him on a bier, and carried him home to his wife, all bloody, as if he had really sufferred as they said. She conducted herself with becoming fortitude and composure, ordered refreshments for those assembled to watch the remains of their chief, sat down along with them, and commenced singing the song which follows. It is very touching in the original. Never having been favoured by the muses, I cannot do it the justice which it deserves, or that I could wish. The translation is as literal as I can make it.” *

“Diarmaid, who was never conquered in battle, was destroyed by stratagem. Some one of his enemies took a bet with him that he could not measure the length of a boar that he had killed by pacing its back against the bristles with his bare soles, which gave rise to the saying—

when any unlikely thing is proposed. He gained his bet, but it cost him his life; the boar’s bristles being so strong that he bled to death. This legend is said to be the origin of the boar’s head being the crest of the principal families of the Campbells. Mary MAcTAvisu, November 1859,

The clan MacTavish are a branch of the Campbells, and this lady, in relating a legend of her own family, tells it as I have heard it repeatedly told, with’ variations, by peasants and fishermen, who firmly believed in their own descent from Diarmaid O’ Duibhn, and in the truth of this legend.

The Lay of Diarmaid is quoted p. 117, and mentioned in several places in the Report of the Highland Society on the poems of Ossian, 1805. The version given below, though it resembles those which I have seen in books in some respects, differ from them all so as to make it evident that it is taken from none. I have no doubt that it is purely traditional.

I am inclined to believe that there was a real Diarmaid, in whose honour poems have been composed by many bards, and sung by generations of Scotch Highlanders, and that to him the adventures of some mythical Celtic Diarmaid have been attributed, in the same way that the mythical story of the apple has been ascribed to William Tell.

Be that as it may, the Lay of Diarmaid can be traced for a period of 300 years, and its story is known amongst the whole Celtic population from the south of Ireland to the north of Scotland.

The Story of the Lay of Diarmaid.*

FIONN never was a king; it was Breean, his father’s brother, who was king over the fifth which the Ken had of Eirinn, and Fionn he was Fla, the chief of the Feene, and it was Osgar who was chief of the men.

It is Djeearmaid who was the man of the best head that was in the Een altogether, and no arm at all could make an impression upon him. There was Ball dorain (a mole, an otter-mark) in his right heel; and he could not be killed unles a spike should go into his heel in the mole.

Graine, the wife of Een, saw the BaLn Serre (beauty spot) that was on Djeearmaid, and she took love for him, and he fled before her, but she followed him; and they were dwelling in a cave. Djeearmaid would not approach her, and he used to put a symbol before the door, a quarter of a slaughtered animal on a stake; and Fionn, when he saw the sign, was satisfied; but on a day the sign was changed. A ciuthach* came into the cave, and Djeearmaid killed him with a spear, for Graine was unfaithful even to her lover.

There was an old woman there whom they used to call Mala Llee (gray eyebrow), and she had a herd of swine, and she had a venomous boar for guarding the pigs. There was no being that went to hunt this boar that came back alive. So it was that Fionn thought to send Djeearmaid to hunt him, to put an end to him.

When Djeearmaid gave out the shout of death, said Fionn to Grain ne—

“Is that the hardest shriek to thy mind that thou hast ever heard?”

“It is not,” said she, “but the shriek of the ciuthach, when Djeermaid killed him.”

Ye Gods! that Djeermaid were alive,” said Fionn.

From Janet Currie, Stonybridge, September 14, 1860. —H. MacL.—Part is altered and omitted in the translation, and the Gaelic is not given, because there is nothing peculiar in the language. The legend is remarkable as containing incidents common to the story published by the Ossianic Society of Dublin in 1855.—J.F.C.

WHEN the Fhinn used to go to hunt, one of them used always to stay at home to watch the women. It fell upon Diarmaid on that day that it was he who should stay. ‘There was a thing which they used to call Sugh Srmrc (love juice), a kind of mark in the face of the man, and there was a helmet upon him that must not be raised, for there was no woman who might see the sugh seirc that would not fall in love with him, and Diarmaid knew that these gifts were in himself. On the day that he stayed at home he thought that no being was seeing him, and he gave a lift to the helmet; and Graidhne, the daughter of the King of Coig Ullainn, sees the face of Diarmaid. The warm soul would not be in her unless she should go with Diarmaid.

Said Diarmaid, “That will not answer for me to go with thee.”

“O! we will go, or else I will tear my clothes, and I will give thee up to Fionn.”

“I have no doubt of thee but that he will believe thee, because thou art his own beloved wife indeed.”

They went away, and they travelled together three days and three nights. They were crossing a river, and a little trout rose and struck her, and she said—

“Thou art bolder than Diarmaid. If thou couldst go on shore!”

“Now,” said he “Fionn has come home, and they will not find us within, then they will come on our tracks, and they will get us.”

“They will not get us,” said she. “Whether they get us, or get us not, we will try to hide ourselves. The thing that we will do is this, we will go up to this wood up here, and the branches and leaves of the trees will hide us.”

They rose up into the tree, and they went into the heart of the tree, and they drew the branches and leaves of the tree about them.

The Fhinn came to their house, and they did not find Diarmaid or Graidhne at the house.

“Here, here! lads,” said Fionn, “I am without a wife, and the Fhinn without Diarmaid. We ought to go till we find them.”

They went on their search, and they went over the same river. When they went over, said Fionn—

“We have now been a while walking, and since we have we will breathe a little at the root of this tree up here.”

They took the advice of Fionn, and they sat at the foot of the tree.

Said Fionn—“We should turn to playing, lads.”

“We are willing,” said they.

Fionn and Osgar used to be the two leaders of the game. It was Diarmaid who used always to be along with Fionn. Fionn knew that Diarmaid had magic gifts at games. Now there was Osgar, and he needed a man to be with him, and it was his own father who used to be with him. They began at the games. Every game that was going, it was against Fionn that it went, and Osgar was winning. They drove three games.

Said Fionn—“I am missing Djeermaid heavily; for it was seldom that a game went against me when Diarmaid was with me; but they are now going against me since he parted from me; but I will go against thee another time.”

Diarmaid was listening. He went and he put his hand against his right side,—thus;—and he caught hold of one of the red rowan berries that were on the tree, and he let it fall down beside the tree, and the back of Fionn was against the tree. He noticed something striking him on the back, and put his hand behind him, and he caught the rowan berry, and he put it into his pouch. They began at the game, and this game went with Fionn.

“One is with me,” said Fionn.

“It is,” said Osgar; “but two are wanting.”

“Wilt thou go into it any more?” said Osgar.

“I will go, I will go,” said Fionn; “try it again.”

Diarmaid let down the next rowan berry, and Fionn won this one.

“Wilt thou go into any more?” said he.

“I will go,” said Osgar. If thou hast two, there is one wanting.”

Diarmaid let down the third one, and Fionn won the third one.

“We are now,” said Oscar, “even and even; all I won thou thyself hast taken it back again.”

“Wilt thou go into it any more?” said Fionn.

I will go,” said Osgar; “we shall have knowledge of its good or evil at this time.”

They went at it, and Diarmaid let down the fourth one, and Fionn won.

“Howsoever, it was whilst thou wert without Diarmaid on thy side I was winning. Howsoever the matter may be, there were matters that belong to Diarmaid about thee this day before thou hast won the fourth time.”

Said Oisean—“My father did not drive (the game) against us with right, my son, at all.”

“I did drive it,” said Fionn.

“Thou did’st not,” said Oisean.

“I did; as a proof that I did there are four rowan berries in my pouch opposite to (for) every game that I won.”

He took out the four rowan berries, and when he took them out he said—

“Come down from that, Diarmaid, thyself and Graidhne, daughter of the King of Coig-Ullainn, for ye are there together.”

Diarmaid and Graidhne came down; the party was made anew, and Fionn and Osgar fell out. The arms began, and the skaith began, and they were doing much harm to each other. ‘The other part of the Fhinn were seeing that Osgar was like to win against the side of his grandfather.

Said Goll Mac Morna—“Though we had no part in the discord we should make a redding, and an umpire’s parting, between the children of Treun Mhor.”

Said Conan—“Let the Clann Baoisge hack each other’s bodies.”

Then Fionn said to Osgar to stay the arms, in case the Clanna Morna should still be after them in Alba,

Fionn took notice of Diarmaid, and he said—

There was a woman who was called Mala Lith, and she had a herd of swine, and there was a venomous boar at their head, and many a good lad went to hunt him that never came whole from the boar.

Said Fionn to Diarmaid—“Go to hunt the boar of Mala Lith on her herd of swine. Many a one went there that did not come out of the burn besides a trout.” Diarmaid went to hunt the boar. H. MacLean.

The Gaelic follows at page 78.

These two stories and the following poem give the relationships of the chiefs of that band of warriors whose exploits form the subject of all that class of old Celtic poetry which is attributed to Oisean, Osin or Ossian, and is called Fingalian in English, and Fenian in Ireland. This is the family tree as here set forth:—

Treunmhor (great, mighty), who gives his name to the tribe, the children of Treunmhor, or the clan of the BaoisGe (flashes of light, coruscations, gleams).

Cumhal (spelt Cooal in Manx), only mentioned as the father of Fionn. He is sometimes called MacDhughil (Macdugald), or the son of black and white Brian the king, brother of Fionn’s father, who seldom does anything.

Fionn MacChumail (fair), flath na Finne (chief of the Finne), married to Graidhne, daughter of the king of the fifth of Ullan.

OISEAN, the last of the Finne, son of Fionn, who afterwards sings the departed glories of his race as a blind old man in poverty and wretchedness,

Oscar, his son, Flath nam Fear, chief of men.

Donn, brown, who gives his name to a tribe, clan O Duibhne.

A Sister of Fionn, wife of King O Dhuine, mother of Diarmaid O Dhubhine, the Expert Shield, the best head in the Finne, whom all family histories and oral traditions call the ancestor of the Campbells, but whom I strongly suspect to be a Celtic divinity, whose attributes have been ascribed to their ancestor by a Celtic tribe.

Gott Mav Mornxa, who is only mentioned here as an umpire in the strife, but who is a very well known character in other poems, and is said to have been a god in Ireland.

Conan, who only appears to utter a bitter taunt and thereby supports the character always assigned to him. Maol, the blunt, cropped, or bald.

The Finns, who are not here named in detail, but are always introduced into every poem or story in which the rest of these characters are named. Besides these, there are—

Mata Lirs, an old woman, who has a magical white boar with a spike of venom in his back, invulnerable to all arms but the arms of Diarmaid.

There is a trout which Graidhne wishes to come on shore.

A savage who comes to the cave where Graidhne is, and who is killed by Diarmaid, to whom the faithless Graidhne is unfaithful.

There is the rowan tree, which is magical, and whose berries are amulets to this day; and nearly all this is common to Irish stories, as published in 1855.

The scene is vague, and might be anywhere in Alba. It is commonly laid near Oban, in Lorne, but Bein Gulbein is the favourite haunt of these warriors, and it is generally placed in Ireland, and is said to be in Sligo, and Diarmaid turns his dying face towards Bein Gulban, wherever it may be.

This subject is referred to elsewhere; but let me here point out that the “Feene” are the children of beams of light, “Baoisge;” of Great Mighty, their great ancestor, and their chief is Fair, the son of Cooal, or it may be of black and white, light and darkness. That Djeearmaid might be translated “the armed god,” who had yellow hair. That their standard was called the sunbeam, and that in the following short poem we have similar incidents to the loves of Venus and Adonis, the death of Achilles, etc., and that all this points rather to mythology than to a single historical incident connected with the disbanding of an Irish militia.

It is worth remark that the poem alludes to several well known adventures which are now told as stories, which may have been poems or distorted facts.

The rowan tree dwelling, verse 21, is No. xxix. in vol. ii., or No. xxxvi. I forget which story goes by the name. Who White Tooth may be] I do not know, but Diarmid had a son so called.

As to the date of the poem and its origin. There seems every reason to believe that it is old, and that it has been orally transmitted for centuries from generation to generation, in the islands of Scotland, wherever it was composed.

A version of it, got in Kintyre or on Lochawe-side, was printed by John Smith. D.D., minister of the gospel at Campbeltown, 1787, p. 99. That version is avowedly pruned and polished.

It is printed without division into stanzas, but the rhythm here and there appears to indicate that such was the original form of the poem.

That which is now printed is so divided by me, because the rhythm generally accords, and the “assonance” and sense all point to separate verses, each complete in itself, and fit for singing to music, as these old songs are in fact sung at this day. Similar Irish poems are so divided.

Several of the lines are nearly the same in Dr. Smith’s version and in this which is collected from the people eighty-four years later.

The story in the “Sean Dana” is clearly the same, though the magic is avowedly weeded from the original, and Graidhne is the faithful wife of Diarmaid, not the faithless wife of his uncle Fionn.

There is another version much older, in a MS. now in course of publication, which dates from 1539.

One specimen page has been shewn to me, and it contains one stanza and several lines almost the same as part of this “Lady of Diarmaid.” It is quite certain, then, that this old song has been preserved more or less perfectly by oral tradition in Scotland amongst people who can neither read nor write, for at least 330 years, and it gives a standard by which to form an opinion of popular tradition as an aid to written history.

“The pursuit of Diarmaid and Grainne” fills the greater part of vol. iii. of the Transactions of the Dublin Ossianic Society, 170 pages; and a glance at the story as there told will shew that it is founded on the same widely spread tradition, which, as I imagine, is not a tradition of any one real event which happened at any given time anywhere; but a chapter in the mythology of the Pagan world, which may be traced far and wide in various forms.

Of the following poem, founded on this legend, the collector MacLean says:

“This Laoidh Dhiarmaid is one of the most popular of the Ossianic pieces recited in the Long Island, and is known to more individuals than any other. In South Uist I heard it recited by Angus M‘Donald, Janet Currie, Allan M‘Phie, and some others; in Barra by Alexander M‘Donald, and Donald M‘Phie (smith), Breubhaig; also by a man in Minglay. The best reciter of this and other Ossianic pieces, that I have met with, is Donald M‘Phie. This M‘Phie says he learnt the poem from Neill M‘Innes, Gill Bharraidh, who died about twenty years ago, about sixty years of age. M‘Innes could neither read nor write. M‘Donald says he learnt it from his mother, Marion Galbraith; and traces it up for six generations to a maternal ancestor of his, who came from Kintyre. Janet Currie traces it to Neill Currie, her ancestor, who was Clanronald’s poet. Hector MacLean.”

For valid reasons, I have not given the Gaelic of all the prose stories, or the whole of them, or the whole of those of which I translate a part. Jo 15 Ch

The Lay of Yeearmaid. No. 3

I have tried to spell the names so as to convey some idea of the

The MS. came to me without division into verses, I have so divided it, being nearly certain that I am right. The people talk of “ceathrannan,” quatrains, and the metre is clear, and fits the

It was torture that he came whole from the boar.

And thou get’st each jewel (c) of a warrior proud”—

“How wretched my face towards Bein Goolban!(d)

a The metre seems to require two lines here. I have not attempted to fill up the space, but I adhere to the division into

c Send a jewel, an instrument. I understand it here to mean a warrior’s jewels, his weapons, but it might mean some decoration. See Graidhne’s answer. “A knife is the best jewel.”

e Caise, passion (Armstrong). now; between the shaft, that is in the shaft, not between the shaft and the head.

13 Tèarainn, to come off without hurt.

14 This stanza is not known to all the reciters, given by Donald M‘Phie, Breubhaig, Barra.

(This is almost the same as a verse of an old manuscript poem, now in course of publication by Messrs. Edmonston and Douglas, 1861.—J. F. C.)

15 These are the lines according to Allan M‘Phie, and Janet Currie, South Uist.

Gu ’n @ shuidh e siar air a’ chnoc, according to some; That he sat west on the knoll.

It’ A chionn e bhith treis na thosd. After, or at the end of his being a while silent.

17 Bu trom troidh, of heavy tread. This is the version used by most of them, and they explain it as referring to the warrior’s strong firm step, and the largeness and strength of the leg; however, I have inserted bu chruinn troidh, which implies a well formed or fine foot, which is boyd’s version.

18 Fiadhain, more poetic than fiadhaich.

19 This is Janet Currie’s version of the line, which I think is best. Allan M‘Phie gives,

“Urram nan slighne ghear goirt;” a pretty line also, “The honour of the sharp keen spear.”

A great many give “Taghadh nan sleagh ruighinn, geur, goirt,” Choice of the keen, tough, sharp spears, which I think is inferior in poetic merit to the other two.

20 Nach tlath ’san trod. That is, “not soft in fight.” Here the poet very beautifully, in an abrupt manner, turns off to the present tense, so as to produce a vivid impression of the hero’s great bravery on the mind of the hearer.

21 “A dhealbhaich mo righ,” Boyd.

23 This beautiful dying speech of Diarmid is not known so full as this to any of the reciters, except to Donald M‘Phie, Breubhaig.

Cobhair is repeated?here often, from the exasperated feeling at the ingratitude of the uncle. Such repetition is always the language of deep passion, as for instance in the case of Coriolanus in his reply, when called “thou boy of tears.”

The repetition of this line, and the abruptness with which he turns off from other subjects, is very pathetic. Whoever has been in the company of the dying can feel the truth of this line, how they refer constantly to some of their favourite haunts. The ruling passion, the last, a favourite theme with modern philosophers aad novelists, is here finely illustrated.

24 A dealbh-chuilean,” This is the expression given by Janet Currie, who says it refers to the unborn child; Graidhne, according to her being with child to the Ciuthach. Boyd has da dhearbh chuilean, Macdonald gives the words inserted, who says they refer to the the two best dogs of the Feen, after Bran, which were killed by the boar.

2i> Suireadh, a maid. Suireadh cha tog a suil, no maid will raise her eye; that is with grief. The line is repeated no doubt in a corrupt manner, thus—

‘Suireach cha tog a shuil” no lover will raise his eye, which would make no sense.

Leac, cheek. Rasg, eyelash, also the eye itself.

“Guirme gun ghlaise,” and “guirme le ghlaise.” Janet Currie gives the line inserted, which is prettier, and at the same time a contrast to the piercing blue eye ascribed by Tacitus to the ancient Germans. Bulwer, in one of his novels, describes the French dark eye as milder and softer than the Italian.

Cleachd, a ringlet.

The poem is not the complete version of one reciter, but is built up and selected from several long versions, written from the dictation of the people named. If the evil spirit of the Ossianic controversy still cumbers the earth, the papers can be produced, and the authorities are alive. I will answer for the honest intention of the collector and the translator, and I can do no more. J. F. C. same. The story is called The Boar of Ben Laighal, and is thus told;—

There lived once upon a time a king in Sutherland, whose land was ravaged by a boar of great size and ferocity. This boar had a den or cave in Ben Laighal (Pr Loyal), full of the bones of men and cattle.

It came to pass that the king swore a great oath, saying he would give his only daughter to the man who should rid the country of this monster. Then came Fingal, Ossian, Oscar, and I know not who besides, and tried in vain to kill the boar, whose bristles were a foot long, his tusks great and white, and whose eyes glowed like beltain fires. But when Diarmid saw the king’s daughter, whose robes were white, and beheld her blue eyes, and her long yellow hair, as she stood in the gateway, he said to himself, “that come what would he would win her.” So he went out ere it was yet dawn, and when he came to the boar’s lair he saw the monster lying, as large and black as a boat when its keel is turned up on the shore; drawing a shot from his bow he killed it on the spot. All the king’s men turned out and pulled the carcase home with shouts to the palace; and the king’s daughter stood in the gate, beautiful as the May morn. But the king’s heart was evil when he saw that the boar was dead. He went back from his word secretly, saying to Diarmid that he should not have his daughter till he had measured (by paces) the body of his fallen foe, once from the head to the tail, and once again backward from the tail to the snout. That would Diarmaid gladly do, and the wedding should be the morrow’s morning. He paced the beast from tip to tail without harm or hindrance, but on measuring it backwards the long poisonous bristles pierced his foot, and in the night Diarmid sickened and died. His grave and the den of the boar may be seen in Ben “Loyal” to this day.

This seems a different and a sadder legend than the one which gives the Campbells their boar’s head crest; nearly as tragical as the fate of Adonis; but it is common in the west of this county to call the Campbells MacDiarmid.—C. D., Sutherland.

It may be interesting to shew this legend of “Diarmaid,” as the word is spelt now-a-days, in another shape.

The following is taken from a MS. which came from Cawdor Castle, and is now in my possession; it is called, “Genealogy Abridgement of the very Antient and

The writer explains that—

“In the following account we have had regard to the genealogical tree done by Niel MacEwen, as he received the same from Eachern MacEwen, his ffather, as he had the same from Art’. MacEwen, his grandfather, and their ancestors and predecessors. senachies and pensioners to great ffamilys, who, for many ages were employed to make up and keep such Records in their accustomed way of Irish Rhymes; and the account left by Mr. Alexʳ. Colvin, who had access to the papers of the ffamily, and Pedro Mexva, a Spaniard, who wrote the origin of diverse and sundry nations, in his book entitled the Treasury of Antiquities.”

The first statement is as follows:—

“The Campbells were of old, in the Irish language, called Clan Odinbhn or Oduimhn (bh and mh being pronounced as the Roman v), id est, the sons, children, or posteritye of Duimhn, knights of the MacDuimhns; particularly from Diarmid MacDuimhn, who makes such a figure in the Irish history, that from him they are sometimes called Siol Dirmed, i.e., Diarmid’s seed, or Sliochd Diarmid, i.e., Diarmod’s offspring.”

In the next paragraph it is said—

“Yet to this day (1779), in the Irish language or Gaelic, they (the Campbells) are called both by the name of Campbell and O’Duimhn.”

I may add that at this day, 1861, the name of Campbell is very rarely used in speaking Gaelic. A man is called Kaim-bel-ach, a Campbelite, or the Campbelltonian, but individually, he is Iain Ruagh, Russet John; if he has the common burnt Sienna beard, Iain fada; long John, if he be tall; Iain na Airde bige, John of the little hill, if his farm be so called; or John MacAllister, if his father’s name be Alexander. In short, surnames are not yet in full use within the Highland bounds.

In the next paragraph the rhymes of the “Senachies” of the Argyll family are again called “Irish,” and thus it appears that in the mind of this writer Irish and Gaelic meant one and the same language in 1779, as I hold that they are in fact now. The story goes on

thus:— “Although the common and ordinary method of reckoning the genealogy of the sirname of Campbell or Clan O*Duimhn is to begin at Arthur of the round table, king of the Britons, as a person very great and famous in history, yet we shall begin it some ages before him, by shewing the occasion of his accession to the crown of the Britons, as Boethius and Buchanan have it in their History of Scotland.” And accordingly the writer begins with Constantine, grandfather to King Arthur. The half mythical heroes of Welsh and Breton tales, and of medieval romances; and personages who still figure in Irish and Scotch Gaelic popular tales, as something more than mere mortals:—Arthur and Diarmaid, primeval Celtic worthies, whose very existence the historian ignores, are thus brought together by a family genealogist, and most of these west-country genealogies agree with him in claiming a descent from King Arthur for “Mac Callen Mor.”

The fact proves nothing, and is of little interest in itself, but when brought to bear upon Celtic mythology it acquires an interest, for it shews that peasants’ stories are sufficiently old to have found their way into family history in Scotland, as well as into what is called the Fenian literature of Ireland. The Irish theory crowds whole centuries of adventure into the lifetime of a single generation of one family, of which Fionn was the head, and which was exterminated, as it is said, about A.D. 277 or 294, at the battle of Gabhra in Ireland. The Scotch genealogist boldly asserts that “It is plain that the family can trace their predecessors from father to son for upwards of 1360 years,” and produces Diarmaid as one of a Scotch family all alive in 943. He goes on to shew how King Arthur brought Ireland under tribute, and received it at Cathair Ler-eon, now West Chester.

The next worthy is

“Smoroie Mor, or as others have it, Sir Moroie Mor, ‘a son of King Arthur,’ of whom great and strange things are told in the Irish traditions. He was born at Dumbarton Castle, on the south side of the fort, in the place called the Red Hall, or in Irish, Tour na-hella dheirg, i.e, the Tour of the Red Hall. He was called to his by-name, The fool of the Forest; he was a wild and undaunted person, and married a sister of King Andar’s, the forty-ninth king of the Scots, and was contemporary with Columbus pius; called in the Gaelic Colmkill, or Calum na-kill, because, when he retired from company they were always sure to find him in his cell at prayer.” Now there are a great many poems and stories still extant in Gaelic, some printed, others still as traditions, in which a “great fool” plays the chief part. I would refer to No. XXXV., vol. ii., and to the “Lay of the Great Fool” in this volume. A long version of the last has been printed already.

There is besides an Arthurian tradition in England of a buried army and a sleeping king, and a wizard who appears occasionally about Alderley edge, not far from Chester, and this has a counterpart in a story got from Islay, which localizes the very same legend in another shape at Dumbarton; and that tradition of warriors sleeping a magic sleep in a cave is known in Barra and in the Isle of Man, in Spain, and over nearly the whole of Europe; and here again tradition and genealogy point to a common origin for Celtic tribes, and to a north-western route, and to a common mythology; for to the best of my knowledge this legend is unknown beyond the Celts in the north. Having brought King Arthur to Dumbarton, the genealogist takes to dates (which I give as I found them), and goes on with a list of worthies, most of whom are unknown to fame.

“VII. Duimhn-Mor, who married a daughter of Duke Murdoch of Moravie, or Murray, or Elgin.” and gave a name to the family, which has been variously explained.

“Odinbhin” and Mac-Oduimhn might suggest a Scandinavian descent, and some old sea-rover for an ancestor, who called himself a son of Odin. It has been suggested that the warriors of Fionn were fair Norsemen, Some Campbells are proud of the “ginger-hackle” which commonly adorns their chins, and claim to be Northmen; but if the name be Gaelic, as I believe it to be, I am compelled to translate Diumhn-Mor, as the Great Brown. The Browns are a numerous and respecable clan, and there is no cause to be ashamed of the connection; for Brown is synonymous with Don, and there are Browns and Dons of high degree.

“VIII. Arthur Oig MacDuimhn, i.e., Young Arthur, son of Brown, 684.

‘IX, Ferither eile MacDuimhn. The other Ferither, son of Brown, 730.

“X. Duimhn falt derig MacDuimhn. Brown of the red hair, son of Brown, 786, who married the grand-daughter of Connal Gulban, one of the sons of Neal na Nidgheallach, king of Ireland, who was so called because he had nine chains, fetters, or prisons, for confining captives taken in the wars. This Neal was father to Longirius, who reigned when St. Patrick came to Ireland.

So here comes in another hero of Gaelic romance, Connal Gulban, of whom there are more stories told in Gaelic at the present day than of any other individual, Fionn always excepted. As St. Patrick here makes his appearance on the stage with Diarmaid and Connal Gulban, and as he brought Christianity, and mayhap civilization to Ireland, it seems reasonable to suppose that such an event would stimulate the bards; and that about the name of St. Patrick all the floating legends of the old Pagan history and mythology would group themselves, as they are in fact found to do, in the Irish dialogues between St. Patrick and Ossian. In these, the old blind poet tells the glories of his departed race, and argues with the saint in a very discontented and rebellious spirit, to say the least of it. Osin, whose tribe was exterminated about 277, converses with St. Patrick, who was born about 372, flourished in 430, and, according to this genealogy, was contemporary with Longirius and Connal Gulban.

“XI. Ferither finruo, i.e., reddish white MacDuimhn, son of Brown.

“XIII. Duimhn donn, i.e., Brown Brown, 904, was contemporary with Constantine, seventy-fifth king of the Scots.”

“XIV. Diarmaid Mac Duimhn, 945.”

And having arrived at this Dirmaid, to whom all popular traditions trace the Campbell clan, the writer breaks off into a digression on the origin of surnames. Of Dirmaid he says:

“This Dirmaid MacDuimhn, from whom the Campbells were called Siol Diarmaid, i.e., Diarmaid’s seed, gained great reputation in Ireland, and in all their traditions there is honourable mention made of him for his conduct, valour, and loyalty. He was contemporary with Malcolm the first, seventy-sixth king of the Scots. He had to wife, Graine, niece to Cormac Vic Art Vic Chuin Cheud Chathach, and thus his son was great-grandchild to that famous Irish monarch. Conn Cheud Chathach, so called because he fought one hundred battles.”

Diarmaid, say the Irish writers, was one of the Fenians, and they were exterminated A.D. 277; that is, 666 years before the date of the Dirmaid and Graine of the genealogy.

And then we are told how Dirmaid and Graine had two sons—

“Arthur Armderig, 977 (red arms), and Duimhn Dedgheal, Brown white tooth, who had to his son Gilcolm or Malcolm MacDuimhn, who, after he had married a daughter of the lords of Carrick, by whom he had three sons, of whom afterwards, and after her death, in the reign of Kenneth the Third, the eightieth king of the Scots, the said Malcolm MacDuimhn went to Normandy in France and married the heretrix of Beauchamp, i.e., campus bellus, or pleasant field, sister’s daughter to William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy, afterwards King of England, of which lady he had three sous, who were called Campbells after the name of their lands in Normandy.”

Further on we are told how the representative of the French branch came over and married the heiress of a knight of Lochawe, Evah, and how the clan took the name of Campus bellus; and how, centuries later, French worthies were entertained at Inverary, and acknowledged themselves to be of the same race and descent as their entertainer. And other genealogical incidents are related in the same quaint style down to the writer’s time, and to John Duke of Argyll.

“44, John Campbell, XXVIII. Campbell, XX. MacCallen Mor, V. Duke, 1768; who (amongst other deeds) caused remove the old burgh of Inverary, but has reared up a much prettyer and more fashionable burgh royal, about a furlong south of the palace, upon the Gallow failean point.”

So here are Diarmaid and Graidhne, the hero and heroine of so many Gaelic myths, stories, poems, and proverbs, the Venus and Adonis of Gaelic mythology, brought into juxtaposition with King Arthur and his knights, honestly married and planted in Scotland, A.D. 943, as Mr. and Mrs. Brown; a family tree grafted on their stock, and the growth of the tree itself all set forth as true family history in 1789.

There probably were people who bore these names. There are hundreds of Dermotts, and Dermids, and Donns, and Dons, and Guns, Mac-Dermotts and MacDiarmaids, still to be found in Ireland and in Scotland. There are Gwynnes in Wales, and there are many similar family names in France which have been hooked into the family tree, which springs from Oduimhn; but it is surely time to give up the attempt to convert Celtic mythology into comparatively modern history, and to fix a time and place for the slaying of Diarmaid by the venomous boar of Beingulban.

In a learned note in the Transactions of the Ossianic Society (vol. v., p. 62, 1860), I find that the Celtic legends about magic boars which pervade Ireland, Wales, and Scotland, have already attracted the notice of Irish scholars, and that they are taking a wide view of their popular lore. The sacred swine of the ancient Celts are supposed to have given rise to this tradition. It is suggested that there was a “Porcine worship which was analogous to, if not identical with, the existing worship of the Hindoo deity Vishnoo, in his avatar as a boar.” And that Diarmaid was a reformer who tried to abolish the worship of pigs, and died in the attempt.

To me it seems perfectly hopeless to attempt to explain a legend which is at least as old as the loves of Venus and Adonis, by referring it to any one time or place.

It is like making Hercules a doctor or a drainer, and the Hydra sulphuretted hydrogen embodied in an epidemic, and cured with steel.

Let this tale of Diarmaid rather be taken as one phase of a myth which pervades half the world, and which is still extant in the Highlands of Scotland, and in Ireland, amongst all classes of the Gaelic population. Let all that can be got concerning it be gathered from the most unsuspecting and the most unlearned witnesses; and when the traditions are compared with what is known to the learned, there is some chance of digging knowledge out of these old mines of fable. At all events, I have now shewn the same legend in a poem, a popular tale, a proverb, a family tradition, and a family history; I have shewn it in Ireland, Cantyre, Islay, Lorn, Skye, the Long Island, and Sutherland; and I believe it to be an ancient pagan myth, which, belonged especially to a tribe of Celts who took possession of Argyll, and which has been transferred to the family of the chief of the most numerous clan, and perhaps to the real leader of the tribe, together with every thing else which a race of family historians thought likely to adorn their favourite topic.

There would seem to be two distinct forms of the myth; one the wildest and best known to the people, the other more rational and best known to the educated classes. *

Fables

I am told on good authority, that stories in which beasts play a chief part are perhaps the most interesting of all in a scientific point of view. I accordingly give a few here, which should belong to No. XVII. in Vol. I. They will serve as a contrast to the heroic traditions with which I had intended to fill this third volume. Their value consists in their close resemblance to well-known stories, found elsewhere amongst peasants, and published in modern times, and in their possessing traits of their own, which seem to indicate that they are parallel traditions derived from a common source; not stories derived from others, and following in their wake.

For example, the whole of the incidents in the story of the Fox and the Wolf are to be found in Grimm; but they are separated. Some of the incidents are also in the Norse tales; but the Gaelic tale fits Highland ways of life exactly, and the story is so widely spread in the Highlands, and can be traced so far back, that it seems almost impossible that the unlettered men who tell it to their children should have got it from modern books which they could neither read nor understand.