Pagan Ireland.

by Eleanor Hull

The Position of Women.

Authorities: Old Romances, with Adamnan's Life of St. Columba and the Annals of Ireland.

Women.

THE position of women in Ireland, except as regards slavery, seems to have been fairly good. They seem to have had their own rights in property, and their own courts of appeal. That they were brought up in industrious habits we have already seen. But they probably did a large share of the agricultural work of a farm, as well as of the household tasks, such as churning, kneading bread, spinning and weaving, besides milking the cows and attending to the house. The lowest work was considered to be the grinding of corn, and this was done by the women slaves.

Women Warriors.

The women of ancient Ireland, however, did more than cook and weave, for they also took an active part in warfare. Not only so, but they seem to have had a high reputation as warriors, for in the old romances it is related (hat those champions who wished to exceed others and perfect themselves in the arts of war and of single combat, went to the schools of the Amazons, Aiffe and Scathach in Alba, to study under these female warriors. We also read that the mother of Conor mac Nessa was a woman-warrior, and wandered through Ireland, executing deeds of valour. In the historical records we find women fighting beside their husbands, even queens with the kings. It seems to have been well recognised that women, as well as men, were liable to take part in warfare.

This custom lasted until the end of the seventh century, when Adamnan, one of the abbots of lona, secured their freedom from military service. It is said that one day the abbot was crossing the plain of Magh Breagh, carrying his old mother on his back. They came across two armies fighting, not at all an uncommon sight in that day. His mother saw two women tearing each other with iron reaping hooks, with which one woman was dragging the other along. Shocked at the horrible sight, Adamnan's mother slipped from her son's arms to the ground, exclaiming, " I will go no further, till you have given me your promise, that you will not rest until you have endeavoured to free the women of Ireland from the terrible obligation of going into battle." Adamnan, moved by his mother's words, gave her his pledge, and at an assembly that was soon afterwards convened, he carried out his promise, and obtained the exemption of women for ever after. This act was rightly regarded as one of the greatest reforms - ever carried out in Ireland.

The wives of the chiefs and champions seem to have been very proud women, proud both of their husbands and of themselves. Like the champions, they were most particular to get the position owing" to their rank, and to be treated with due respect. There is a famous old story called the " Women's War of Words," in which we find three of the greatest ladies of Erin quarrelling about the honour that ought to have been given to them on account of the position of their husbands. They were named Fedhlem-of-the-Fresh-Heart, wife of Leogaire (Laery) the Triumphant; Lendabair, wife of Conall Cernach; and Emer, wife of Cuchulain. They had been feasting in the House of Bricriu, an evil minded man, who earned his nick name, " Bricriu of the Envenomed Tongue," from his love of stirring up strife. After the banquet, the ladies, heated with the feast, and, I fear, also with the quantity of wine that they had drunk, left their husbands still sitting at the table, and retired with the bands of young girls who formed their train, to take the evening air outside. They were walking in the grassy space which lay between the raths or three banks of earth that encircled the building for protection. While they were scattered from each other, Bricriu approached each in turn, and poured into their ears extravagant praises of their beauty and of the valour and greatness of their husbands. " Emer of the fair hair is for thee no nick name," were his words to Emer. " The Kings and

Princes of Erin contend for thee in jealous rivalry. As the sun surpasseth the stars of heaven, so far dost thou outshine the women of the whole world in form and shape and lineage, in youth and beauty and elegance, in good name and wisdom and address."

The ladies appear to have been very much excited by these fulsome praises, and were quite ready to do anything that Brienu suggested to them. His object was, to stir them up to quarrel as to which of them should have the most honourable place at table and be considered the first lady of Ulster. "Whichever of you," he said." shall enter the house first on your return, shall hold the coveted place" : but none of them knew that he had spoken to the others.

As soon as they could do so without attracting attention, they all turned to regain the hall, each intending to be the first to enter the door. On the farthest ridge from the house they walked slowly, with easy, graceful carriage, each one on her dignity, and pretending that there was no hurry at all. On the second ridge, their steps were shorter and quicker. But on the ridge nearest to the house, they made no attempt to retain a dignified air; they picked up their long flowing robes and ran towards the door, in such haste and confusion that the warriors within sprang to their arms thinking that a host of enemies had suddenly set upon them. The doorkeepers hastily shut to the doors, but Emer, who got there first, put her back against one of them, and called to her husband to let her in.

Immediately all the champions rushed to the doors, intending each to let in his own wife; and there was such a tumult and confusion, that the king had to strike his silver gong to enforce silence. Then each of the three ladies was permitted to speak in turn, and each proclaimed in verse the heroic deeds of her lord, and the claim she made to be considered the wife of the first warrior in Erin. Though these speeches seem to us conceited, and full of self-praise, they are fine pieces, full of spirit and pride in their husbands, and the verses so excited the three champions that they broke open the sides of the house to let their wives come in, and did so much damage that Bricriu, who had built a new house on purpose to entertain his guests, was well repaid for his foolish ways in having incited the quarrel. The place of honour was given to Emer, Cuchulain's faithful wife.

Emer was a good and true wife to Cuchulain, and others of the women of whom we hear in the tales were wise and faithful also; but some were bad women, like Blathnat, wife of Curoi mac Daire, who persuaded Cuchulain to kill her husband, and who herself came to a bad end; or false and heartless, like Grainne; or proud and selfish, like Maive. But on the whole, the Irish women seem to have been true-hearted and ready to brave anything for their husbands, whom they seem to have greatly loved, and often they guarded and advised them and kept them safe from their enemies, as Deirdre watched over Naisi, and would have saved him from death, if he would have listened to her.

They seem when young to have been delightful girls, full of fun and gaiety and gentle ways, and they must have been charming in their homes. They were very clever and capable, too, and able to manage things, and keep the house well, and the farm and dairy. There was one strict rule about marriage, which was, that the elder sister was always married before the younger; this rule was so carefully observed, that even a king was not allowed to choose which sister he preferred. Once a king of Leinster wished to marry the younger daughter of Tuathal (Toole), a powerful Ard Righ of Tara, who reigned about 130-160 A.D., but he was not permitted to do so, and out of this a great war arose, as we shall see in the later history. But some times a young man would have his own way about this, and marry the girl he liked, as Cuchulain married Emer, though she told him at once that she had a sister older than herself, whom he ought to woo instead of her. But he had to carry off Emer by main force, for her father would not give her to him.

Women Doctors.

The women of ancient Ireland were very good nurses and doctors, and it was better for them to nurse and heal the sick than to go to war themselves. We are accustomed to think that it is quite a novel thing to have women doctors, but they were just as much believed in as the men physicians in early times, and had plenty to do. Some of their ways of doctoring seem very rough and curious to us now, but they had a knowledge of herbs and healing plants, and of bandaging wounds and cuts. For rheumatism and similar ailments, they used vapour baths, something in principle (like a Turkish bath, only very simply built. There are several of these curious vapour baths remaining in Ireland. One is in a field near Assaroe in Donegal, but the people have forgotten about it, and few of them can tell where it is. It is quite perfect a small stone structure, just large enough for a man to stand up inside. There is a low entrance, which was closed with a stone. A fire of wood was placed in a hole in the ground under the hut before the patient entered, and stones were heated on it; then water was poured on the stones, and the place became full of vapour, in which the patient stood.

The men and women of Ireland were very fond of bathing, and the first thing provided for a guest in any house, before he sat down to eat, was a bath. This was a very good and healthy custom. The baths were large tubs, and they were heated with hot stones thrown into the water, like the vapour-baths. They were prepared by the women as a matter of course as soon as a guest entered a house.

Grianans.

Let us see how the women lived in the house of a man of good position. You will remember that I told you that they had always a separate dwelling in the enclosure, and some of these houses of the wives and daughters of the great chiefs or large farmers seem to have been very beautiful and luxurious indeed. Grainne, Cormac's daughter, had a special house built and adorned for her by her father; but the " Grianan " that I am going to tell you about belonged to a princess named Crede, the daughter of a king of Kerry, in the South of Ireland. The ladies' dwellings were called " Grianans," which means " Sunny Chambers," because they were always built in the sunniest part of the enclosure, high up, and were made as pretty and bright as possible. The chiefs used to like to visit the ladies in the Sunny Chamber when they were weary of their own stiffer rooms, and there they played chess or had music, or rested on the soft couches. Chess was a very favorite game among the Irish, and some of their chess boards were of great elegance, made of silver, with little golden birds or ornaments at the corners. They carried the little men in bags made of metal thread, and never travelled without them. We even read of battles being fought on account of chess-boards or to settle disputes about a game.

I will now tell you how we know what Crede's Grianan was like. Crede was a great beauty and very rich, and many young princes wanted to marry her. One day the hero Finn mac Cool was seated on a hill in Co. Limerick, with his followers around him, when he saw a handsome young warrior coming quickly across the hill from the North. Finn called him and asked him where he was going in such a hurry. " To see Crede, daughter of Cairbre, King of Kerry," said the young warrior, whose name was Gael. Finn laughed and said, "It is no use going to see Crede, for she is the greatest flirt in all Ireland; all the young princes of Ireland have given her beautiful presents, but she will have none of them." " I know that," said Gael; " but do you know that there is one condition on which she will receive any one who wants to marry her?" " I have heard," said Finn, " that the only condition is that she must have a poem describing her house and her beautiful furniture, and that whoever writes the most excellent poem will win her hand." "That is true," said Gael, " and I have brought such a poem with me." " But how," said Finn, " did you know what her house was like? " "I have been to ree Muirn, my old nurse," said Gael, " and she has described it to me; and if you will come along with me, we will go together and present it to her. " "Very well," replied Finn, " we will go." When they arrived at the house, Crede sent to ask what they wanted. "It is Gael," answered Finn, "who has come to ask your hand in marriage." " Has he a poem for me? " she said. "I have," replied Gael, and he recited a long poem describing her house, which we have at this day. " Happy is the House of Crede," the poem begins, "there are men and women and children, there are Druids, and players on instruments, cup bearers and keepers of the door."

He then describes the house as built of great size, with a wide door with green door posts and a lintel of carved silver. The thatch was brown and crimson, and the porch was thatched in bird's feathers, beautifully arranged in stripes of blue and yellow. Over the entrance hung an apple tree, and in it the cuckoo sang; a lawn and well were before the house, and the servants went in and out, distributing food and ale and apples to all. Within, the couches were adorned with gold and silver and precious stones, the cushions were of silk, and the musicians made sweet music. All this Gael sang in a long and beautiful poem, which praised also the beauty of Crede herself. Crede was so delighted with this poem, that she promised to marry Gael : and marry him she did and loved him dearly.

You will like to know the end of this old love-story. Alas ! they had not long been married when a war broke out between Finn's people and the Norsemen, who kept invading the western coasts of Ireland, and Gael was summoned to meet the invaders at Finntraigh or the White Strand of Ventry Harbour, Co. Kerry, where the foemen were endeavouring to land from their vessels. There was a long and fierce conflict, and Gael was left lying, mortally wounded, on the beach. Fergus, one of the older warriors, saw him, and went and asked him how he was. " I tell you," said Gael, " that I am so wounded that if my armour and my helmet were taken off me, I should fall to pieces as I lie; yet it is not that which troubles me, but it is to see yon tall warrior of the foreigners, who is getting safe off to his ships through the water. I give thee my blessing, Fergus; take me now on thy back to the edge of the sea, that I may swim after that foreigner, and perchance the foreigner will not escape me before I die, for that would give me joy, O Fergus." Then Fergus lifted him up and carried him to the brink of the sea, and set him swimming after the Norseman. The foreigner looked round as he reached the ship, and he thought that Gael was one of his own people swimming to escape, and he waited in the ship for him to come up. As he stretched his hand over the side of the ship to help up Gael, Gael raised himself, and grasped his hand round the wrist of the foreigner, and gave one valiant pull and drew him over, and together, locked in each other's embrace, they went down to the sand and gravel of the pure sea.

When Crede heard that her husband was dead she, with many other women, sought the place where he died, and over all the borders of the land were heard the sad laments she made. She went hither and thither from spot to spot, seeking her lover among the slain and wounded, but she found him not. Then, as she sat weeping, she saw a crane of the meadow sheltering her two little birds from a wily fox which was trying to catch them. While she covered one of the birds, the fox would make a rush at the other, so that the crane had to stretch herself between the two, for rather would she have died than that her little ones should be slain.

And as Crede mused on it she said, " It is not strange that my fair lover is beloved by me, since the bird is so distressed about her young. " Then she heard a stag on Drumm Seis above he harbour, and it ran from pass to pass among the mountains, bewailing its hind vehemently. For they had been nine years together, and had dwelt in the wood at the foot of the harbour, but the hind had been killed by Finn and his followers. And for nineteen days the stag went without tasting grass or water, mourning for its hind. " It is no shame to me," said Crede, " to die for grief of Gael, since the stag is making such pitiful moan for its hind and is shortening its life for her. It seems to me," she said, " that the birds and the waves and the wild beasts are all mourning for my love." And she made a lovely song, which is with us still, of the sad voice of the waves and the sad cry of the birds and of her own great sorrow over Gael.

Dress.

It was the custom of the Irish ladies of rank to dye their eye lashes black and their finger nails pink; their dress was often elaborately embroidered, and their ornaments handsome. On their head they wore a circle of gold called a " mind," and the princesses had cups, basins, combs and pins of great richness and beauty. Here is a pretty description from an old tale of a princess bathing at a well. Etain, the princess, says the story, was washing in a silver basin on the rim of which were four golden birds and little bright gems of purple carbuncle. " She stood at the edge of the well combing her hair with a bright comb of silver adorned with gold. The hue of her hair was like the flower of the iris in summer, or like red gold after the burnishing. It was plaited in two locks, and a bead at the point of each lock. She wore a mantle folded and purple, and in the mantle silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle, long and hooded, of green silk with red embroidery of gold was seen beneath it. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts and her shoulders on every side.

The sun kept shining on her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green silk was seen of all. There she was, undoing her hair to wash it, with her arms out through the sleeve holes of her smock. White as the snow of one night were her two hands, and red as the foxglove her two clear fair cheeks. Blue as a hyacinth her eyes. Red as the rowen berry her lips. The bright radiance of the moon was in her noble face; soft womanly dignity in her voice; her step was stately and slow, as the gait of a queen. Verily, of the world's women she was the dearest and loveliest and most perfect that the eyes of man had ever beheld. She seemed to those who saw her to be a shee maiden from fairy land." This is a very pretty description of Etain, who afterwards became Queen of Ireland, but who was, indeed, half a fairy maid.

*From "The Destruction of Da Derga's Hostel." Ed. Dr. Whitley Stokes, pp. 6-7. ; and the " Story of Ailill and Etain." Rev. Celt., iii