the children of lir
the people who were there before them. These earlier people were known as the
Tuatha Dé Danann, the people of the goddess Danu, who gives her name to the Paps
of Danu in Co. Kerry that you can see for miles around, even from the borders
of Cork. The Tuatha Dé Danann were sorely defeated by the Gaels at the Battle
of Teltown, now in Co. Meath. After this the Tuatha Dé met together and in
an attempt to strengthen their position they decided to elect one king who
would rule over them all. The man they settled on in their conclave was Bodhbh
Dearg of Lough Derg on the Shannon in Connacht, on account of his own qualities
and the respect they had for his father, the supreme deity of Newgrange, known
as the Daghda. Now this decision drove Lir, from the Fews in Co. Armagh, into
a rage because he wanted the kingship for himself. He left the meeting abruptly
without asking leave or saying farewell or even speaking to anyone annoyed
by Lir's insulting behaviour, many of the Tuatha Dé wanted to follow him,
kill him, and burn his house down but Bodhbh Dearg stopped them and said:
"No, don't do this. That man is too ardent a fighter not to make sure that
no one will damage his property. And anyway, his disobedience and churlishness
make me no less of a king." They agreed to follow this advice, and Lir was
left to his isolation and anger. So it went on for a long time. Then, suddenly,
misfortune descended on Lir: his wife died after a three-day illness. This
dismayed him and he became exhausted in spirit. When the story got to Bodhbh
Dearg he took pity on the estranged and lonely man, and said: "I could help
Lir now, if he were to accept my friendship. Here at Lough Derg I have, as
nurselings from Oilell of Aran, the three most attractive girls in Ireland
- Aebh, Aoife, and Ailbhe. Lir can choose whichever of them he wishes on one
simple condition, that he acknowledge me as head of the Tuatha Dé." Messengers
were sent north with this offer. Lir, overwhelmed by the kindness of the man
he had insulted, accepted, and made haste to Lough Derg, arriving the following
day with a retinue of fifty chariots. There, in front of Bodhbh Dearg's palace,
he made his submission and asked for forgiveness from his king. That night
they feasted heartily before Lir was asked to choose between the three girls.
They sat at the feast on the same seat as their foster-mother, Bodhbh Dearg's
wife. Lir chose Aebh, because she was the eldest, and they slept together
that night. The festivities and celebration continued for a fortnight and
then Lir took her back home with him to Co. Armagh, where they had another
wedding feast to mark their return. Time went by and Lir and the young girl
lived in joy and content. She bore him twins, Fionnuala and Aodh, and then
she conceived again and gave birth to another set of twins, Fiachra and Conn.
But misfortune struck once more and the young mother died giving birth the
second time. This calamity would have driven the life out of Lir but for the
comfort and solace he took from his four children. Once again Lir's sad story
came to the ears of Bodhbh Dearg and once again he took pity on him and offered
him Aoife, Aebh's sister. Lir came south to take her; they slept in Bodhbh
Dearg's palace; and then he took her back with him to the Fews. At first Aoife
was delighted with her sister's children, and took pleasure in the joy they
gave not only to Lir, but to anyone who met them. Bodhbh Dearg himself loved
them and often came to visit the family, and would bring the children back
to Lough Derg to stay with him in his own palace. So dearly did their father
love these four that he got them to sleep on couches in front of his own,
and every morning he would wake up early to go and embrace them. His devotion,
however, awoke a fire of envy in Aoife, their stepmother. She started to hate
them and resented the admiration they won from everyone. To draw attention
to herself she pretended to be sick for a whole year, but even though great
care and concern was shown towards her she still wasn't satisfied. She decided
to get rid of them. One day she had her chariot prepared for her and told
the children to climb into it and go along with her. Fionnuala knew in her
own mind that her stepmother had planned something evil against them but she
could not refuse what seemed an ordinary command even though she could feel
the malice in Aoife. When she got the children some way from Lir's house she
pulled a sword from its scabbard in the chariot intending to kill them but
a womanly instinct combined with fear of physical violence stopped her. In
fury and panic she drove the chariot on to Lough Derravaragh in Co. Westmeath.
She loosened the horses on the strand and told the children to climb down
from the chariot, take off their clothes, and to wash themselves in the lake,
saying that they were covered in dirt from the long drive. Once again Fionnuala
knew that evil was afoot, but she found it impossible to disobey a sensible
request. They all did as they were told, and entered the cold water of the
lake. When they were swimming around, Aoife, who was trained in the arts of
magic, struck the water's surface with an enchanted rod, and immediately the
four lovely bodies before her changed their shapes into four swans as white
as snow. Their bodies changed as they were swimming and when the transformation
was complete the four shapes all turned in unison, as swans do, and then Fionnuala
spoke strangely through her new throat: "What you have done to us is evil.
It is an evil return for all the friendship and care that has been shown to
you. Though your magic is strong it's not as strong as the power our father
and his friends will bring against you in vengeance. This act of yours will
finish you. But please, even if only to lessen the harshness of the punishment
that awaits you, put some limit on the enchantment. Give it some end." "Alright,
I'll do that," Aoife replied. "But you're going to regret having asked this
favour. You'll stay as you are until a woman of the south lies with a man
of the north. And, on top of that, you'll continue in these shapes until you've
spent three hundred years on this lake, three hundred on the Sea of Moyle
between Ireland and Scotland, and three in the Atlantic off Eris in Mayo.
Those will be your adventures and this is your fate from now on." The swans
looked at her and bent their heads in sorrow. Their grief awoke some pity
in Aoife and she said: "There's nothing to be done now to mitigate this curse.
You will continue to be able to speak. Also you will sing music that will
be like no other music and it will ravish listeners with sweetness. You will
continue to be able to think and even though your lives will be harsh you
will never completely despair in spite of your pitiful condition." She left
them there and when she had gone they swam out into the deep reaches of the
lake, paddling slowly. Aoife went on from Lough Derravaragh to Lough Derg
to her foster-father's palace. After Bodhbh Dearg had welcomed her he asked
her why she had come alone without the children. "Lir has started to dislike
you and believes you have always hated him. He wouldn't trust you with his
children anymore, he says." "I don't believe you," said Bodhbh Dearg. "I love
his children more than I do my own and Lir knows that." He left the woman
in her chamber. Having become sure that she had done something wrong he sent
messengers north to the Fews. When they came there Lir asked them what had
brought them. "We've come," one said, "because of your children." "What has
become of them?" asked Lir. "Are they not here with you?" "No," replied Lir.
"They went with Aoife in her chariot to Bodhbh Dearg's house. What has happened
to them?" "Aoife said you would not trust Bodhbh Dearg with them." "There
is malice at work," said Lir. He knew now that Aoife had destroyed or ruined
them in some way. He found out that she had gone to Lough Derravaragh on her
way to Bodhbh Dearg and he set off next morning. When the children saw his
retinue they swam to shore and uttered a song of welcome. Lir came down to
the water's edge to these strange creatures who could speak and sing and asked
them why they had human voices. "We," said Fionnuala, "are your four children
bewitched by our stepmother out of envy." "Can this spell be reversed?" asked
Lir, heartstruck. "No," Fionnuala said, and told him the term of the enchantment
and the conditions. When they heard this Lir's people gave three roars of
sorrow. "Can you come ashore? Can you be with us even in your swan form and
keep us company? I don't know how I can live without your presence in my house."
"We can't be with human people anymore," said Fionnuala. "We are birds. But
we can speak and sing of our sorrow and that will soothe any troubled person.
Stay here tonight and our song will comfort and lighten your sadness, my father."
So they stayed and listened to the magical music and slept sweetly in spite
of their grief. The following day he went to Bodhbh Dearg. When he was inside
the palace Bodhbh Dearg asked him why he had not brought the children. Lir
replied: "You have been lied to and I most grievously wronged by Aoife over
there, your own nursling. She has, through her magic, changed them into four
swans." A violent spasm of shock ran through Bodhbh Dearg's body, and he said
to her: "The children will, in time, be released from this spell of yours,
but you will never be freed from what I am going to do to you. What do you
loathe and fear most of all?" She had to reply. Her guilt and his force made
her. "The demons of the air." "That is what you are this moment", and he struck
her with his druid rod and in a dark flurry she was gone into the volumes
of the air, where she flies to this day.