DeDanaan

Filed by Aine MacDermot

She brought forth the boy, and he was named, as Elotha had said, Eochaid Bres. When a week after the woman’s lying-in was complete the boy had a fortnight’s growth; and he maintained that increase till the end of his first seven years when he reached a growth of fourteen years. Because of the contest which took place among the Tuatha De Danaan, the sovereignty of Ireland was given to the boy; and he gave seven hostages to Ireland’s champions, that is, to her chiefs, to guarantee the restoring of the sovereignty if his own misdeeds should give cause. His mother afterwards bestowed land upon him, and on the land he had a stronghold built, called Dun Bresse; and it was the Dagda that built that fortress.

Now when Bres had assumed the kingship, the Fomorians, –Indech son of Dea Domnann (some sources say he was the son of the goddess Domnu), and Elotha son of Delbáeth, and Tethra, three Fomorian kings, laid tribute upon Ireland so that there was not a smoke from a roof in Ireland that was not under tribute to them. The champions were also reduced to their service; to wit, Ogma had to carry a bundle of firewood, and the Dagda became a rath builder, and had to dig the trenches about Rath Bresse.

The Dagda became weary of the work, and he used to meet in the house an idle blind man named Cridenbel, whose mouth was out of his breast. Cridenbel thought his own ration small and the Dagda’s large. Whereupon he said: “O Dagda! Of thy honor let the three best bits of thy ration be given to me!” So the Dagda used to give them to him every night. Large, however, were the lampooner’s bits the size of a good pig. But those three bits were a third of the Dagda’s ration. The Dagda’s health was the worse for that.

One day, then, as the Dagda was in the trench digging a rath, he saw the Mac Oc coming to him.

“That is good, O Dagda,” says the Mac Oc.

“Even so,” said the Dagda.

“What makes thee look so ill?” said the Mac Oc.

“I have cause for it,” said the Dagda, “every evening Cridenbel the lampooner demands the three best bits of my portion.”

“I have counsel for thee,” said the Mac Oc. He put his hand into his purse, took out three crowns of gold, and gave them to him. “Put these three gold pieces into the three bits which thou givest at close of day to Crindenbel,” said the Mac Oc. “These bits will then be the goodliest on thy dish; and the gold will turn in his belly so that he will die thereof, and the judgment of Bres thereon will be wrong. Men will say to the king; “The Dagda has killed Cridenbel by means of a deadly herb which he gave him.” Then the king will order thee to be slain. But thou shalt say to him: “What thou utterest, O king of the warriors of the Fene, is not a prince’s truth. For I was watched by Cridenbel when I was at my work, and he used to say to me “Give me, O Dagda, the three best bits of thy portion. Bad is my housekeeping tonight”. So I should have perished thereby had not the three gold coins which I found today helped me. I put them in my ration. I then gave it to Cridenbel, for the gold was the best thing that was before me. Hence, then, the gold is inside Cridenbel, and he died of it.”

The Dagda followed this advice, and was called before the king.

“It is clear,” said the king. “Let the lampooner’s belly be cut open to know if the gold be found therein. If it be not found, thou shalt die. If, however, it be found, thou shalt have life.”

After that they cut open the lampooner’s belly, and the three coins of gold were found in his stomach, so the Dagda was saved. Then the Dagda went to his work on the following morning, and to him came the Mac Oc and said: “Thou wilt soon finish thy work, but thou shalt not seek reward till the cattle of Ireland are brought to thee, and of them choose a heifer black-maned.”

Thereafter the Dagda brought his work to an end, and Bres asked him what he would take as a reward for his labor. The Dagda answered: “I charge thee,” said he, “to gather the cattle of Ireland into one place.” The king did this as the Dagda asked, and the Dagda chose of them the heifer which Mac Oc had told him to choose. That seemed weakness to Bres: he thought that the Dagda would have chosen somewhat more.

Now Nuada was in his sickness, and Diancecht put on him a hand of silver with the motion of every hand therein. That seemed evil to his son Miach. Miach went to the hand which had been replaced by Diancecht, and he said “joint to joint of it and sinew to sinew,” and he healed Nuada in thrice three days and nights. The first seventy-two hours he put it against his side, and it became covered with skin. The second seventy-two hours he put it on his breast … that cure seemed evil to Diancecht. He flung a sword on the crown of his son’s head and cut the skin down to the flesh. The lad healed the wound by means of his skill. Diancecht smote him again and cut the flesh till he reached the bone. The lad healed this by the same means. He struck him a third blow and came to the membrane of his brain. The lad healed this also by the same means. Then he struck the fourth blow and cut out the brain so that Miach died, and Diancecht said that the leech himself could not heal him of that blow.

Thereafter Miach was buried by Diancecht and herbs three hundred and sixty-five, according to the number of his joints and sinews, grew through the grave. Then Airmed (Airmid) opened her mantle and separated those herbs according to their properties. But Diancecht came to her, and he confused the herbs, so that no one knows their proper cures unless the Holy Spirit should teach them afterwards. And Diancecht said “If Miach be not, Airmed shall remain.”

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