A FENIAN GHOST STORY

By Michael McGuinness, Druid of the Fellowship

Samhain, the Irish Celtic New Year, along with Bealtaine, is a time when the door between our everyday world and the Otherworld swings both ways. It was often said that everything is opposite in the Otherworld from the way it is here: for example, when someone died in our world, they were thought to be born again in the Otherworld, and vice versa. That idea of the open door between life and death, and our daily experience of how the same event can provoke wildly different reactions from different people, inspired me to adapt this Samhain tale of Finn MacCumhal from Lady Gregory’s Gods and Fighting Men. My prayer for the community of FoDLA, and for myself as a new Druid serving the People, is that we all may be wise and brave and generous in the upcoming year; and may we strive to balance the strength we need to overcome the challenges of our lives with compassion for others who, in different and sometimes threatening ways, are trying to meet those same challenges.

After Finn, Son of Cumhal had eaten of the Salmon of Knowledge, which was full of the hazelnuts of wisdom that had dropped into the well of Segais beneath the sea, he went to Tara to offer his friendship and service to the High King Cormac Mac Art.

Now, for the previous nine years at Samhain, Aillen, Son of Midhna of the Tuatha De Danann came out of the Sidhe mound to the north of the city, playing fairy music on his harp and his pipe, so that all the people hearing it would fall fast asleep. Then, while all the people were asleep and helpless, Aillen would burn up the city with a breath of flame from his mouth.

The High King Cormac, during the feast of Samhain, rose from his seat and declared, “If any man of Ireland would keep Tara safe from being burned by Aillen Mac Midhna, I swear by all the gods my people swear by, I would give him whatever reward he asked, great or small.”

Those present at the feast were silent, fearing the sweet and pitiful music made by that beautiful man of the Sidhe, knowing that all who heard it were powerless to stay awake, until young Finn stood up and said, “I promise to keep Tara safe until the break of day, if, in return, you make me the chief of the Fianna who protect Ireland, as was my father Cumhal before me.” And King Cormac agreed.

Now, one of the warriors of Tara, Fiacha, the son of a friend to Finn’s father, came to Finn and said, “I have a magical spear that never fails; if I help you, will you promise to share your good fortune with me and be my friend?” Finn replied, “All that will I give you and more.”

Fiacha secretly brought Finn the spear and said, “When you hear the music of the Sidhe, hold the point of the spear to your forehead, and the power of it will protect you from falling asleep.”

Then Finn took the spear and circled the city, and soon he heard the lovely and sorrowful music, so he quickly held the power of the spear to his forehead, and remained quietly awake.

And Aillen went on playing his little harp, and his little pipe, until all in Tara were asleep, as usual; and then, as before, he blew the flame of fire out from his mouth to burn the royal city.

But there was one man in Tara who was still awake. Finn Mac Cumhal held up his crimson cloak like a shield against the flame, and Aillen’s fiery breath broke against it, and plunged down deep into the earth, taking Finn’s cloak with it.

And when Aillen saw that his magic had been defeated by this bright young warrior, he fled back to his Sidhe mound to the north, with Finn hot in pursuit.

Just as Aillen was about to enter his fairy hill, just as he was passing through the doorway that lay open between his underground world of the Sidhe and Finn’s world of the people of Tara and Ireland, Finn made a cast of the powerful spear that never failed, and pierced the heart of Aillen Mac Midhna, killing him on the spot, in the doorway between the two worlds.

And Finn cut off Aillen’s head and brought it back to Tara at the break of day, just as the High King and all his people came out to meet him.

And Finn said, “There is the head, and there is the harp and the pipe of the fairy who bewitched you and burned your royal palaces. I have kept my word and saved Tara, and all who are in it.”

And Cormac the High King kept his promise and made Finn the chief of the Fianna of Ireland, like his father Cumhal before him. And Finn, quiet in peace and fierce in battle, was the best fighting man that ever swore loyalty to any king.

But then, that same night, in the midst of Finn’s joy, Aillen’s mother came from the fairy hill north of the city, and, seeing Aillen’s headless body, raised a loud keening lament for her son that was gone, crying, “Aillen is fallen, chief of our Sidhe. Och, he was pleasant! Och, he was kind! Nine times he burned the hill of Tara, always looking for a great name for himself and our people. Ochone! Ochone!”

Now Finn was a king and a wise seer and a sweet poet; he was a Druid and a knowledgeable man, but whatever any one ever said of him, he was three times better.

And even though all this happened a long time ago, it’s absolutely true that people then are the same as people now—even heroes like Finn MacCumhal. Perhaps he felt many things at once, just like you and me; perhaps he felt happy to have saved Tara, and felt sorry for the fairy mother who had lost her son.

After this, it was always said of Finn that he would have given a fair judgment between his worst enemy and his own son; that he was so truthful that he never promised what he would not fulfill; and so generous that if all the leaves falling from the trees were gold and silver, he would have given them all away.