Originally published in Howitt s Journal (William & Mary Howitt) vol.2 #45 (06 Nov 1847).
Outlines of the History of Ireland for schools and families, Curry, Dublin.
Concerning the history of Ireland, there is an immense amount of ignorance still existing—ignorance that can be removed, ignorance that must remain. This little book, though bearing a humble title, is calculated to remove much of the former.
There are traces in the land, of commerce, wealth, and learning, in such remote ages, that the kings who are chronicled, seem to belong to a degenerate period, and these flourished when the English were in a savage state. Eodach, surnamed for his erudition, Ollamh Fodhla, or the learned doctor, held the sceptre about 600 years B.C. After the lapse of 300 years from this time, (the account of which period is filled up with tales more worthy of being inserted in a collection of fairy legends, than of being recorded in the page of history,) a mighty sovereign, called Ingaine Mone, or "Hugony the Great, is said to have swayed the sceptre of Ireland." This prince sailed with a large fleet to the Mediterranean, and he was, on account of his extensive conquests, styled, "Monarch of Ireland, Albany, and the Western Isles of Europe." Notwithstanding this preface, we require a large amount of credulity, to give his grandson the respect due to an historical character. Ingaine was succeeded by his son Laogaire, who was loved throughout his realm with the warmest attachment. One person only seemed insensible to his merit, his brother Cobthach, who, having in view the attainment of the crown, resolved to sacrifice everything to his ambition. He pined for envy, say the chroniclers, and soon, from the state of his health, became unable to go abroad. His brother little suspecting the cause of his malady, paid him frequent visits, always inquiring tenderly after his health.
On one of these occasions, the invalid, instead of thanking him with the courtesy which was due, upbraided him for coming attended with such a train, demanding if he suspected him of any bad intention.
"No," exclaimed the generous prince, "I did but intend thereby to do honour to my father's son; but since I have wounded his feelings, to-morrow I will come alone." The traitor s purpose was quickly formed. On the following day, Laogaire, nobly confiding in his brother, came unattended, and bending over Cobthach's couch, tenderly took his hand, when the monster starting up, drew a dagger from under the coverlet, and stabbed the monarch to the heart. The throne which the assassin had gained by blood, he was resolved to secure in the same manner—and the murder of his nephew soon succeeded that of his brother. But still an obstacle remained in his nephew's son, who was doomed to experience unrelenting cruelty from his barbarous relative. Invited to a banquet by the king, he ate heartily of the viands set before him; when the entertainment was finished, he was asked by his tormenter, how he liked it, and on his replying, was informed by him, with a grim smile, that "his dainty meal had been the hearts of his father and grandfather."
The unfortunate youth fell, in a short time, into a state of morbid melancholy; he refused nourishment, shunned society, and shewed every symptom of approaching insanity. Cobthach rejoicing at this, inquired from his soorhsayer, how he could complete his work without again steeping his hands in blood. "Let a living mouse be swallowed by him," suggested the adviser, "and the charm will be concluded." The counsel was followed, and the soothsayer's prophecy appeared accomplished. The young man seemed to lose the faculty of speech, and in that state, being rendered by the tyrant powerless, was committed to the guardianship of his relations.
But Maon, or Labradh, for he was called by both names, who was reserved for a noble destiny, was conveyed to Munster, where, under the genial influence of kindness, his strength returned, his intellect expanded, and he soon became "the flower of chivalry." So thought the fair Moriat, daughter to the king of Munster, with whose beauty the king had become captivated, and who confessed to her father their mutual affection.
The king was in no wise averse to it, but declared that whoever won his daughter, must prove his noble birth by noble bearing. Labradh took the hint, and having bestowed on his mistress a casket of splendid jewels, enlisted in the army of France, then marching on a distant expedition.
Stimulated by love and ambition, he quickly distinguished himself; the fame of his exploits extended to his native land, and in France and Ireland the minstrel celebrated his victories. One day a harper was introduced to the French court, whose verses on this all-prevailing subject were of surpassing beauty; and he strongly urged him to return and endeavour to recover his possessions. There was something about the minstrel which excited the prince's curiosity, and desiring a private interview with him, he inquired his name and that of the composer of the song.
"My name," replied the harper, "is Craftinè, and the owner of these jewels was the composer of my lay." So saying, he presented the astonished youth with one of the gems which he had bestowed on the fair Moriat.
Labradh required no more, but hastily bidding adieu to France, he repaired to his native country, where, with a large army, which he quickly raised, he appeared before his uncle, "who was now," says the bardic historian, "become, through the force of conscience, a walking shadow, no flesh being on his bones nor blood within his veins."
Refusing to relinquish the throne, he led a small body of troops to oppose his nephew; but his cause was too unpopular to afford the smallest prospect of success. He was defeated and slain by Labradb, who, marrying the beautiful Moriat, succeeded to the crown.
Though possessed of his kingdom and his love, the happiness of Labradh was incomplete—for his vanity was mortified by the unnatural length of his ears; which are described as having resembled those of a horse. His hair was usually adjusted in such a manner as to conceal his deformity; and that a circumstance which he considered so disgraceful might not transpire to his people, his hair-dresser was put to death as soon as his business was performed. The person to undertake his fatal employment was determined by lot; and it happening once to fall to the share of the only son of a widowed mother, she hastened to the king, and, throwing herself on her knees before him, petitioned for the life of her offspring. Her request was granted on condition that he should swear to observe inviolable secrecy as to what he should witness in the palace. The youth joyfully agreed to a condition which appeared so easy; but, at the sight of the unnatural ears of his royal master, he was so shocked, and so oppressed with the weight of the secret; "for secrecy," says the bard, "is ever oppressive," that he fell into a state of health which soon appeared hopeless. His anxious mother flew to a druid for advice, to whom the youth confessed that his illness was owing to his being entrusted with a secret which he was forbidden to disclose.
After having reflected for a few moments, the sage advised him to go to a neighbouring wood, and when he came to a meeting of four high ways, turn to the right, apply his lips to the first tree he came to, and whisper to it the secret. The youth obeyed, and a willow was fated to be the confidante of Labradh's misfortune.
Soon after, the harp of Craftinè being broken, he sought in this wood for a tree to make a new one, and accidentally selected the willow, of which he made his harp; but when the instrument was put in order, it would sound but one tune, which was thus interpreted, "Labradh has the ears of a horse." Many musicians tried to play on it, but still the same words would ever sound. The king at length imagining that this was a judgment on him for putting so many innocent men to death, avowed the deformity, and never again sacrificed another victim to his vanity.
This marvellous story ought to have a date anterior to that recorded here, and take its place in the fabulous period or doubtful chronicles of Ireland. The auricular appendages of the Irish monarch seem to point to an eastern original, either of the tale or the man.
When the Phœnicians colonised Ireland, perhaps some relation of Midas's may have emigrated from Phrygin, and been the progenitor of Labradh! So anomalous were the alternations of learning and ignorance, that in the reign of our Edward the Second, no vestige could be found of that learning for which the island had once been celebrated. In a country which had sunk into such deplorable ignorance, superstition, as might be expected, attained unlimited sway; and neither sex nor rank were security against the persecution caused by the accusation of witchcraft.
These "Outlines" are sketched with much taste and judgment, and we recommend the volume not only to "Schools and Families," but to all who have not the means or time for Moore s more serious and elaborate "History of Ireland."