A more complete and wonderfully presented collection of the Ulster cycle of Irish mythology probably does not exist than this work Lady Augusta Gregory first published in 1902. She collects, transcribes, and pieces together the translations of many of the most significant sagas of Cuchulain and the people of Ulster. Her scholarship is remarkable and important, and so is the wealth of mythology here. This is every bit as grand a work as her publication of the Fenian and Mythological lore around the same time.
I have read many of these stories elsewhere, mostly in Early Irish Myths and Sagas, as well as the impossibly magnificent epic Tain Bo Cuailnge, but a few I had never read before, including most of those which take place after the Tain. Lady Augusta's telling is in an authentic prose that is not dolled up or stylized, preserving the delivery of these tales as their translations first presented them from the original manuscripts. The stories are presented somewhat chronologically. Since the majority of them involve Cuchulain or reference him and other recurring figures from the Ulster sagas, it is easy to understand the timeline of these stories.
All of these stories, even the most minor, are densely packed with the mysterious, alluring, bizarre, sometimes un-explainable magical myth-history of Irish sagas. The elements that give character and color to these tales have not been toned down, they have not been modified for contemporary audiences whose tastes are fleeting and formulaic, they have not been reworked to be more comfortable or familiar or sterile for popular consumption. They are presented with authenticity, with some clever fixing up by Lady Augusta simply for coherence and flow, but lacking none of the charming otherworldly, othertimely weirdness and glory and poetry and intensity that found its place in these myths of ancient ages. The unfamiliar becomes familiar through repeated exposure, such that the beliefs and values and ideas of these Gaels, which at first might appear alien and odd to the uninitiated, take on a fullness and a consistency and a life more real than the world around you.
The birth and childhood deeds of Cuchulain are here, detailing his early decision to live a short life of elite heroism, immortalized in saga, as are the legendary events at Bricriu’s feast as Cuchulain and Conall Cearnach and Laegaire attempt to outdo one another in amazing feats. This story finishes with a competition of beheadings performed by (and on) a seemingly supernatural entity capable of regrowing its head, which is thought to have been the inspiration for the similar competition seen in the Arthurian tale Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Also here is Cuchulain’s courting of Emer, and the demise of the High King of Ireland, Conaire, at Da Derga’s hostel by his foster brothers and Ingcel. The sagas describing the key developments that precede the mighty epic of the Tain are here complete, in a few tales that I had never read before. What was new to me also were many of the tales after the Tain epic ends.
Conchobar, king of Ulster, decides that the deeds and crimes of the people of Connacht and Leinster and Munster that occurred during their raid of Cúailnge for the mighty bull must be avenged. He demands satisfaction against Ailill and Madb, and against all the kings and warriors who aided their plot. The people of Ulster, including Cuchulain, agree. A massive battle follows, and Cuchulain, adding to the body count of warriors he has slain, destroys yet another man on the battlefield, Cairbre Niafer, whose son Erc will later seek vengeance.
There is the tale of Cuchulain’s son, whom Cuchulain is tricked into fighting years after the boy has undergone intense training, unrecognized due to his son’s hidden identity and thirst for blood. This might remind one of the Hildebrandslied from middle high Germanic epic, in which father and son engage in battle against one another, for they do not know they are fighting kin. This is an old German tale, put first to print around 830 AD, but the Cuchulain story might be just as old. Both come from older oral traditions. We’ll probably never know which came first, as the history of these myths get blurrier with age.
After the battle of Rosnaree I just mentioned, many of Cuchulain’s enemies conspire to end him. They are mostly the sons and daughters of those he has slain, including the daughters of Calatin who are trained in enchantments and witchcraft from a young age specifically so they may help defeat Cuchulain.
The blood-pumping, symphonic drama of this massive conspiracy grows, and it soon entails all those who wish to avenge the deaths of those Cuchulain killed during his defense of Ulster during the Tain, and it crescendos until a grueling, poetic, remarkable end. It is not only Cuchulain who is killed, but his charioteer, and then his faithful horse, who does not die immediately, but defends Cuchulain against his enemies until the bitter end, later alerting Ulster to his death by showing up covered in blood. Despite the tricks of the enchanters, despite the forces opposing him and the odds against him, despite knowing his fate, despite the emphatic pleas from his wife and his friends to avoid combat, at least until his friend Conall is able to come to his aid, he wishes to face death and to face the enemy alone, because his deeds and his name will live forever. Cuchulain engages the enemy and strikes down all he can until his end is met. The children of those he vanquished have had their revenge.
But as the people of Ulster lament his death and their inability to prevent it, Conall Cearnach rides out for revenge, remembering his oath to Cuchulain — if either died before the other, the other would seek satisfaction for their death before the next day, or before their blood was cold on the ground. Conall stays true to his promise and carves a path of red destruction across Ireland, eventually returning to Ulster and to Cuchulain’s wife, Emer, with the heads of all those he’s slain in vengeance. For each head, Emer asks who the person was, and Conall tells her who the head belonged to and where he left the body, or how they died. With this satisfaction, though her heart still broken, Emer can rest. She is buried with Cuchulain and dies of grief as she kisses him. Conall raises a stone for the two of them as all of Ulster is keening their deaths.
It seems that the post-Tain Ulster cycle is composed largely of a sequence of revenge upon revenge upon revenge, ending in ultimate tragedy.
This is one of the best collections of the immortal tales of maybe Ireland’s greatest hero and some of its most sensational, moving, and powerful sagas. Additional notes by Lady Gregory and WB Yeats provide excellent supplementary material, discussing Irish myth’s significance, and the scholarship behind bringing many of these stories to the public consciousness.