Fionn’s Leadership of the Fianna

Fionn’s father, Uail, had been the leader of the Fianna until Goll Mac Morna killed him at the battle of Cnuchna and took over the leadership. So how did Fionn regain the leadership of that brave band of warriors?

The tale that is told brings a close to the tales of Fionn’s youth. Having been brought up to be finest the athletes, having acquired the gifts of poetry and knowledge after his apprenticeship to Finegas, and his eating of the Salmon of Knowledge, and after a period of acting as a mercenary for many of the Lords of Ireland, Fionn came at last to the court of Conn of the Hundred Battles, at Tara.

The core of the story is this:

It is Sammhain Eve, and Fionn sits among the nobles. He is asked who he is: son of Uail. During the festivities, Conn asks who will defend them against the monster that will come that night. Fionn takes up the challenge. He is given a spear that will keep him awake. When the fire breathing Aillen approaches, charming all to sleep with its music, Fionn uses the spear to stay awake, and defeats Aillen. His reward, anything reasonably asked, is to become leader of thre Fianna. Goll is given the choice to leave, or to show allegiance to Fionn, as new leader. He shows allegiance.

“The Boyhood of Fionn”, Irish Fairy Tales, James Stephens, 1920

Irish Fairy Tales by James Stephens

Publication date 1920

In Section THE BOYHOOD OF FIONN

CHAPTER XI

He had received all that he could get from Finegas. His education was finished and the time had come to test it, and to try all else that he had of mind and body. He bade farewell to the gentle poet, and set out for Tara of the Kings.

It was Samhain-tide, and the feast of Tara was being held, at which all that was wise or skilful or well-born in Ireland were gathered together.

This is how Tara was when Tara was. There was the High King’s palace with its fortification; without it was another fortification enclosing the four minor palaces, each of which was maintained by one of the four provincial kings; without that again was the great banqueting hall, and around it and enclosing all of the sacred hill in its gigantic bound ran the main outer ramparts of Tara. From it, the centre of Ireland, four great roads went, north, south, east, and west, and along these roads, from the top and the bottom and the two sides of Ireland, there moved for weeks before Samhain an endless stream of passengers.

Here a gay band went carrying rich treasure to decorate the pavilion of a Münster lord. On another road a vat of seasoned yew, monstrous as a house on wheels and drawn by an hundred laborious oxen, came bumping and joggling the ale that thirsty Connaught princes would drink. On a road again the learned men of Leinster, each with an idea in his head that would discomfit a northern ollav and make a southern one gape and fidget, would be marching solemnly, each by a horse that was piled high on the back and widely at the sides with cleanpeeled willow or oaken wands, that were carved from the top to the bottom with the ogham signs; the first lines of poems (for it was an offence against wisdom to commit more than initial lines to writing), the names and dates of kings, the procession of laws of Tara and of the sub-kingdoms, the names of places and their meanings. On the brown stallion ambling peacefully yonder there might go the warring of the gods for two or ten thousand years; this mare with the dainty pace and the vicious eye might be sidling under a load of oaken odes in honour of his owner’s family, with a few bundles of tales of wonder added in case they might be useful; and perhaps the restive piebald was backing the history of Ireland into a ditch.

On such a journey all people spoke together, for all were friends, and no person regarded the weapon in another man’s hand other than as an implement to poke a reluctant cow with, or to pacify with loud wallops some hoof-proud colt.

Into this teem and profusion of jolly humanity Fionn, slipped, and if his mood had been as bellicose as a wounded boar he would yet have found no man to quarrel with, and if his eye had been as sharp as a jealous husband’s he would have found no eye to meet it with calculation or menace or fear; for the Peace of Ireland was in being, and for six weeks man was neighbour to man, and the nation was the guest of the High King.

Fionn went in with the notables.

His arrival had been timed for the opening day and the great feast of welcome. He may have marvelled, looking on the bright city, with its pillars of gleaming bronze and the roofs that were painted in many colours, so that each house seemed to be covered by the spreading wings of some gigantic and gorgeous bird. And the palaces themselves, . mellow with red oak, polished within and without by the wear and the care of a thousand years, and carved with the patient skill of unending generations of the most famous artists of the most artistic country of the western world, would have given him much to marvel at also. It must have seemed like a city of dream, a city to catch the heart, when, coming over the great plain, Fionn saw Tara of the Kings held on its hill as in a hand to gather all the gold of the falling sun, and to restore a brightness as mellow and tender as that imiversal largess.

In the great banqueting hall everything was in order for the feast. The nobles of Ireland with their winsome consorts, the learned and artistic professions represented by the pick of their time were in place. The Ard-Ri, Conn of the Hundred Battles, had taken his place on the raised dais which commanded the whole of that vast hall. At his right hand his son Art, to be afterwards as famous as his famous father, took his seat, and on his left Goll Mor mac Morna, chief of the Fianna of Ireland, had the seat of honour. As the High King took his place he could see every person who was noted in the land for any reason. He would know every one who was present, for the fame of all men is sealed at Tara, and behind his chair a herald stood to tell anything the king might not know or had forgotten.

Conn gave the signal and his guests seated themselves. The time had come for the squires to take their stations behind their masters and mistresses. But, for the moment, the great room was seated, and the doors were held to allow a moment of respect to pass before the servers and squires came in.

Looking over his guests. Conn observed that a young man was yet standing.

“There is a gentleman,” he murmured, “for whom no seat has been found.”

We may be sure that the Master of the Banquet blushed at that.

“And,” the king continued, “I do not seem to know the young man.”

Nor did his herald, nor did the unfortunate Master, nor did anybody; for the eyes of all were now turned where the king’s went.

“Give me my horn,” said the gracious monarch.

The horn of state was put to his hand.

“Young gentleman/* he called to the stranger, “I wish to drink to your health and to welcome you to Tara.”

The young man came forward then, greater-shouldered than any mighty man of that gathering, longer and cleaner limbed, with his fair curls dancing about his beardless face. The king put the great horn into his hand.

“Tell me your name,” he commanded gently.

“I am Fionn, the son of Uail, the son of Baiscne,” said the youth.

And at that saying a touch as of lightning went through the gathering so that each person quivered, and the son of the great, murdered captain looked by the king’s shoulder into the twinkling eye of Goll. But no word was uttered, no movement made except the movement and the utterance of the Ard-Ri.

“You are the son of a friend,” said the great-hearted monarch. “You shall have the seat of a friend.”

He placed Fionn at the right hand of his own son Art.

CHAPTER XII

It is to be known that on the night of the Feast of Samhain the doors separating this world and the next one are opened, and the inhabitants of either world can leave their respective spheres and appear in the world of the other beings.

Now there was a grandson to the Dagda Mor, the Lord of the Underworld, and he was named Aillen mac Midna, out of Shi Finnachy, and this Aillen bore an implacable enmity to Tara and the Ard-Ri.

As well as being monarch of Ireland her High King was chief of the people learned in magic, and it is possible that at some time Conn had adventured into Tir na n-Og, the Land of the Young, and had done some deed or misdeed in Aillen’s lordship or in his family. It must have been an ill deed in truth, for it was in a very rage of revenge that Aillen came yearly at die permitted time to ravage Tara.

Nine times he had come on this mission of revenge, but it is not to be supposed that he could actually destroy the holy city: the Ard-Ri and magicians could prevent that, but he could yet do a damage so considerable that it was worth Conn’s while to take special extra precautions against him, including the precaution of chance.

Therefore, when the feast was over and the banquet had commenced, the Hundred Fighter stood from his throne and looked over his assembled people.

The Chain of Silence was shaken by the attendant whose duty and honour was the Silver Chain, and at that delicate chime the hall went silent, and a general wonder ensued as to what matter the High King would submit to his people.

“Friends and heroes,” said Conn, “Aillen, the son of Midna, will come to-night from Slieve Fuaid with occult, terrible fire against our city. Is there among you one who loves Tara and the king, and who will undertake our defence against that being?”

He spoke in silence, and when he had finished he listened to the same silence, but it was now deep, ominous, agonised. Each man glanced uneasily on his neighbour and then stared at his wine-cup or his fingers. The hearts of young men went hot for a gallant moment and were chilled in the succeeding one, for they had all heard of Allien out of Shi Fmnachy in the north. The lesser gentlemen looked under their brows at the greater champions, and these peered furtively at the greatest of all. Art Og mac Morna of the Hard Strokes fell to biting his fingers, Conan the Swearer and Garra mac Morna grumbled irritably to each other and at their neighbours, even Caelte, the son of Ronan, looked down into his own lap, and Goll Mor sipped at his wine wihout any twinkle in his eye. A horrid embarrassment came into the great hall, and as the High King stood in that palpitating silence his noble face changed from kindly to grave and from that to a terrible sternness. In another moment, to the undying shame of every person present, he would have been compelled to lift his own challenge and declare himself the champion of Tara for that night, but the shame that was on the faces of his people would remain in the heart of their king. Goll’s merry mind would help him to forget, but even his heart would be wrung by a memory that he would not dare to face. It was at that terrible moment that Fionn stood up.

“What,” said he, “will be given to the man who undertakes this defence ?”

“All that can be rightly asked will be royally bestowed,” was the king’s answer.

“Who are the sureties?” said Fionn.

“The kings of Ireland, and Red Cith with his magicians.”

“I will undertake the defence,” said Fionn.

And on that, the kings and magicians who were present bound themselves to the fulfilment of the bargain.

Fionn marched from the banqueting hall, and as he went, all who were present of nobles and retainers and servants acclaimed him and wished him luck. But in their hearts they were bidding him good-bye, for all were assured that the tad was marching to a death so unescapable that he might already be counted as a dead man.

It is likely that Fionn looked for help to the people of the Shi themselves, for, through his mother, he belonged to the tribes of Dana, although, on the father’s side, his blood was well compounded with mortal clay. It may be, too, that he knew how events would turn, for he had eaten the Salmon of Knowledge. Yet it is not recorded that on this occasion he invoked any magical art as he did on other adventures.

Fionn’s way of discovering whatever was happening and hidden was always the same and is many times referred to. A shallow, oblong dish of pure, pale gold was brought to him. This dish was filled with clear water. Then Fionn would bend his head and stare into the water, and as he stared he would place his thumb in his mouth under his “Tooth of Knowledge,” his “wisdom tooth.”

Knowledge, may it be said, is higher than magic and is more to be sought. It is quite possible to see what is happening and yet not know what is forward, for while seeing is believing it does not follow that either seeing or believing is knowing. Many a person can see a thing and believe a thing and know just as little about it as the person who does neither. But Fionn would see and know, or he would understand a decent ratio of his visions. That he was versed in magic is true, for he was ever known as the Knowledgeable man, and later he had two magicians in his household named Dirim and mac-Reith to do the rough work of knowledge for their busy master.

It was not from the Shi, however, that assistance came to Fionn.

CHAPTER XIII

He marched through the successive fortifications imtil he came to the outer, great wall, the boundary of the city, and when he had passed this he was on the wide plain of Tara.

Other than himself no person was abroad, for on the night of the Feast of Samhain none but a madman would quit the shelter of a house even if it were on fire ; for whatever disasters might be within a house would be as nothing to the calamities without it.

The noise of the banquet was not now audible to Fionn — it is possible, however, that there was a shamefaced silence in the great hall — and the lights of the city were hidden by the successive great ramparts. The sky was over him ; the earth under him ; and than these there was nothing, or there was but the darkness and the wind.

But darkness was not a thing to terrify him, bred in the nightness of a wood and the very fosterling of gloom ; nor could the wind af&ict his ear or his heart. There was no note in its orchestra that he had not brooded on and become, which becoming is magic. The long-drawn moan of it; the thrilling whisper and hush; the shrill, sweet whistle, so thin it can scarcely be heard, and is taken more by the nerves than by the ear; the screech, sudden as a devil’s yell and loud as ten thunders ; the cry as of one who flies with backward look to the shelter of leaves and darkness ; and the sob as of one stricken with an age-long misery, only at times remembered, but remembered then with what a pang! His ear knew by what successions they arrived, and by what stages they grew and diminished. Listening in the dark to the bundle of noises which make a noise he could disentangle them and assign a place and a reason to each gradation of sound that formed the chorus : there was the patter of a rabbit, and there the scurrying of a hare; a bush rustled yonder, but that brief rustle was a bird; that pressure was a wolf, and this hesitation a fox; the scraping yonder was but a rough leaf against bark, and the scratchmg beyond it was a ferret’s claw.

Fear cannot be where knowledge is, and Fionn was not fearful.

His mind, quietly busy on all sides, picked up one sornid and dwelt on it. “A man,** said Fionn, and he listened in that direction, back towards the city.

A man it was, almost as skilled in darkness as Fionn himself.

“This is no enemy,” Fionn thought; *liis walking is open.”

“Who comes?” he called.

“A friend,” said the newcomer.

“Give a friend’s name,” said Fionn.

‘Tiacuil mac Cona,” was the answer.

“Ah, my pulse and heart!” cried Fionn, and he strode a few paces to meet the great robber who had fostered him among the marshes.

“So you are not afraid,” he said joyfully. “I am afraid in good truth,” Fiacuil whispered, “and the minute my business with you is finished I will trot back as quick as legs will carry me. May the gods protect my going as they protected my ccMning,” said the robber piously.

“Amen,” said Fionn, “and now, tell me what you have come for?”

“Have you any plan against this lord of the Shi?” Fiacuil whispered.

“I will attack him,” said Fionn.

“That is not a plan,” the other groaned; “we do not plan to deliver an attack but to win a victory.”

“Is this a very terrible person?” Fionn asked.

“Terrible indeed. No one can get near him or away from him. He comes out of the Shi playing sweet, low music on a timpan and a pipe, and all who hear this music fall asleep.”

“I will not fall asleep,” said Fionn.

“You will indeed, for everybody does.”

“What happens then?” Fionn asked.

“When all are asleep Aillen mac Midna blows a dart of fire out of his mouth, and everything that is touched by that fire is destroyed, and he can blow his fire to an incredible distance and to any direction.”

“You are very brave to come to help me,” Fionn murmured, “especially when you are not able to help me at all.”

“I can help,” Fiacuil replied, “but I must be paid.”

“What payment?”

“A third of all you earn and a seat at your council.”

“I grant that,” said Fionn; “and now, tell me your plan.”

“You remember my spear with the thirty rivets of Arabian gold in its socket?”

“The one,” Fionn queried, “that had its head wrapped in a blanket and was stuck in a bucket of water and was chained to a wall as well — the venomous Birgha?”

“That one,” Fiacuil replied.

“It is Aillen mac Midna’s own spear,” he continued, “and it was taken out of his Shi by your father.”

“Well?” said Fionn, wondering nevertheless where Fiacuil got the spear, but too generous to ask.

“When you hear the great man of the Shi coming, take the wrappings off the head of the spear and bend your face over it; the heat of the spear, the stench of it, all its pernicious and acrid qualities will prevent you from going to sleep.”

“Are you sure of that?” said Fionn.

“You couldn’t go to sleep close to that stench; nobody could,” Fiacuil replied decidedly.

He continued: “Aillen mac Midna will be oflF his guard when he stops playing and begins to blow his fire ; he will think everybody is asleep; then you can deliver the attack you are speaking of, and all good luck go with it.”

“I will give him back his spear,” said Fionn.

“Here it is,” said Fiacuil, taking the Birgha from under his cloak. “But be as careful of it, my pulse, be as frightened of it as you are of the man of Dana.”

“I will be frightened of nothing,” said Fionn, “and the only person I will be sorry for is that Aillen mac Midna, who is going to get his own spear back.”

“I will go away now,” his companion whispered, “for it is growing darker where you would have thought there was no more room for darkness, and there is an eerie feeling abroad which I do not like. That man from the Shi may come any minute, and if I catch one sound of his music I am done for.”

The robber went away and again Fionn was alone.

CHAPTER XIV

He listened to the retreating footsteps until they could be heard no more, and the one sound that came to his tense ears was the beating of his own heart.

Even the wind had ceased, and there seemed to be nothing in the world but the darkness and himself. In that gigantic blackness, in that unseen quietude and vacancy, the mind could cease to be personal to itself. It could be overwhelmed and merged in space, so that consciousness would be transferred or dissipated, and one might sleep standing; for the mind fears loneliness more than all else, and will escape to the moon rather than be driven inwards on its own being.

But Fionn was not lonely, and he was not afraid when the son of Midna came.

A long stretch of the silent night had gone by, minute following minute in a slow sequence, wherein as there was no change there was no time ; wherein there was no past and no future, but a stupefying, endless present vrhich is almost the annihilation of consciousness. A change came then, for the clouds had also been moving and the moon at last was sensed behind them — ^not as a radiance, but as a percolation of light, a gleam that was strained through matter after matter and was less than the very wraith or remembrance of itself; a thing seen so narrowly, so sparsely, that the eye could doubt if it was or was not seeing, and might conceive that its own memory was re-creating that which was still absent.

But Fionn’s eye was the eye of a wild creature that spies on darkness and moves there wittingly. He saw, then, not a thing but a movement ; something that was darker than the darkness it loomed on; not a being but a presence, an, as it were, impending pressure. And in a little he heard the deliberate pace of that great being.

Fionn bent to his spear and unloosed its coverings.

Then from the darkness there came another sound; a low, sweet sound; thrillingly joyous, thrillingly low; so low the ear could scarcely note it, so sweet the ear wished to catch nothing else and would strive to hear ‘ it rather than all sounds that may be heard by man: the music of another world! the unearthly, dear melody of the Shi! So sweet it was that the sense strained to it, and having reached must follow drowsily in its wake, and would merge in it, and could not return again to its own place imtil that strange harmony was finished and the ear restored to freedom.

But Fionn had taken the covering from his spear, and with his brow pressed close to it he kept his mind and all his senses engaged on that sizzling, murderous point.

The music ceased and Aillen hissed a fierce blue flame from his mouth, and it was as though he hissed lightning.

Here it would seem that Fionn used magic, for spreading out his fringed mantle he caught the flame. Rather he stopped it, for it slid from the mantle and sped down into the earth to the depth of twenty-six spans; from which that slope is still called the Glen of the Mantle, and the rise on which Aillen stood is known as the Ard of Fire.

One can imagine the surprise of Aillen mac Midna, seeing his fire caught and quenched by an invisible hand. And one can imagine that at this check he might be frightened, for who would be more terrified than a magician who sees his magic fail, and who, knowing of power, will guess at powers of which he has no conception and may well dread ?

Everything had been done by him as it should be done. His pipe had been played and his timpan, all who heard that music should be asleep, and yet his fire was caught in full course and was quenched.

Allien, with all the terrific strength of which he was master, blew again, and the great jet of blue flame came roaring and whistling from him and was caught and disappeared. ^

Panic swirled into the man from Faery; he turned from that terrible spot and fled, not knowing what might be behind, but dreading it as he had never before dreaded anything, and the unknown pursued him; that terrible defence became offence and hung to his heel as a wolf pads by the flank of a bull.

And Allien was not in his own world!

He was in the world of men, where movement is not easy and the very air a burden. In his own sphere, in his own element, he might have outnm Fionn, but this was Fionn*s world, Fionn’s element, and the fly-’ ing god was not gross enough to outstrip him. Yet what a race he gave, for it was but at the entrance to his own Shi that the pursuer got close enough. Fionn put a finger into the thong of the great spear, and at that cast night fell on Aillen mac Midna. His eyes went black, his mind whirled and ceased, there came nothingness where he had been, and as the Birgha whistled into his shoulderblades he withered away, he tumbled emptily and was dead. Fionn took his lovely head from its shoulders and went back through the night to Tara.

Triumphant Fionn, who had dealt death to a god, and to whom death would be dealt, and who is now dead !

He reached the palace at sunrise.

On that morning all were astir early. They wished to see what destruction had been wrought by the great being, but it was young Fionn they saw and that redoubtable head swinging by its han.

“What is your demand?” said the Ard-Ri.

“The thing that it is right I should ask,” said Fionn : “the command of the Fianna of Ireland.”

“Make your choice,” said Conn to Goll Mor; “you will leave Ireland, or you will place your hand in the hand of this champion and be his man.”

Goll could do a thing that would be hard for another person, and he could do it so beautifully that he was not diminished by any action.

“Here is my hand,” said Goll.

And he twinkled at the stern, young eyes that gazed on him as he made his submission.

In “The Coming of Finn”, in Gods and Fighting Men, Lady Gregory, 1904

https://archive.org/details/godsfightingmens00gregrich/page/164/mode/1up?q=cat

Gods and fighting men : the story of the Tuatha de Danaan and of the Fiana of Ireland by Gregory, Lady, 1852-1932; Finn, MacCumaill, 3rd cent; Yeats, W. B. (William Butler), 1865-1939

Publication date 1904

p164-168

PART TWO: THE FIANNA.

BOOK ONE : FINN, SON OF CUMHAL.

CHAPTER I. THE COMING OF FINN

cont.

And after that, Finn being but a young lad yet, made himself ready and went up at Samhain time to the gathering of the High King at Teamhair. And it was the law at that gathering, no one to raise a quarrel or bring out any grudge against another through the whole of the time it lasted. And the king and his chief men, and Goll, son of Morna, that was now Head of the Fianna, and Caoilte, son of Ronan, and Conan, son of Morna, of the sharp words, were sitting at a feast in the great house of the Middle Court ; and the young lad came in and took his place among them, and none of them knew who he was.

The High King looked at him then, and the horn of meetings was brought to him, and he put it into the boy’s hand, and asked him who was he.

“ I am Finn, son of Cumhal,” he said, “ son of the man that used to be head over the Fianna, and king of Ireland ; and I am come now to get your friendship, and to give you my service.”

“ You are son of a friend, boy,” said the king, “ and son of a man I trusted.”

Then Finn rose up and made his agreement of service and of faithfulness to the king ; and the king took him by the hand and put him sitting beside his own son, and they gaye themselves to drinking and to pleasure for a while.

Every year, now, at Samhain time, for nine years, there had come a man of the Tuatha de Danaan out of Sidhe Finnachaidh in the north, and had burned up Teamhair. Aillen, son of Midhna, his name was, and it is the way he used to come, playing music of the Sidhe, and all the people that heard it would fall asleep. And when they were all in their sleep, he would let a flame of fire out of his mouth, and would blow the flame till all Teamhair was burned.

The king rose up at the feast after a while, and his smooth horn in his hand, and it is what he said : “If I could find among you, men of Ireland, any man that would keep Teamhair till the break of day to-morrow without being burned by Aillen, son of Midhna, I would give him whatever inheritance is right for him to have, whether it be much or little.”

But the men of Ireland made no answer, for they knew well that at the sound of the sweet pitiful music made by that countryman of the Sidhe, even women in their pains and men that were wounded would fall asleep.

It is then Finn rose up and spoke to the King of Ireland. “Who will be your sureties that you will fulfil this?” he said. “The kings of the provinces of Ireland,” said the king, “ and Cithruadh with his Druids.” So they gave their pledges, and Finn took in hand to keep Teamhair safe till the breaking of day on the morrow.

Now there was a fighting man among the followers of the King of Ireland, Fiacha, son of Conga, that Cumhal, Finn’s father, used to have a great liking for, and he said to Finn : “ Well, boy,” he said, “ what reward would you give me if I would bring you a deadly spear, that no false cast was ever made with ? “ “ What reward are you asking of me ? “ said Finn. “ Whatever your right hand wins at any time, the third of it to be mine,” said Fiacha, “ and a third of your trust and your friendship to be mine.” I will give you that,” said Finn. Then Fiacha brought him the spear, unknown to the sons of Morna or to any other person, and he said : “ When you will hear the music of the Sidhe, let you strip the covering off the head of the spear and put it to your forehead, and the power of the spear will not let sleep come upon you.

Then Finn rose up before all the men of Ireland, and he made a round of the whole of Teamhair. And it was not long till he heard the sorrowful music, and he stripped the covering from the head of the spear, and he held the power of it to his forehead. And Aillen went on playing his little harp, till he had put every one in their sleep as he was used ; and then he let a flame of fire out from his mouth to burn Teamhair. And Finn held up his fringed crimson cloak against the flame, and it fell down through the air and went into the ground, bringing the four-folded cloak with it deep into the earth.

And when Aillen saw his spells were destroyed, he went back to Sidhe Finnachaidh on the top of Slieve Fuad ; but Finn followed after him there, and as Aillen was going in at the door he made a cast of the spear that went through his heart. And he struck his head off then, and brought it back to Teamhair, and fixed it on a crooked pole and left it there till the rising of the sun over the heights and invers of the country.

And Aillen’s mother came to where his body was lying, and there was great grief on her, and she made this complaint : —

“ Ochone ! Aillen is fallen, chief of the Sidhe of Beinn Boirche ; the slow clouds of death are come on him. Och ! he was pleasant, Och ! he was kind. Aillen, son of Midhna of Slieve Fuad.

“ Nine times he burned Teamhair. It is a great name he was always looking for, Ochone, Ochone, Aillen ! “

And at the breaking of day, the king and all the men of Ireland came out upon the lawn at Teamhair where Finn was. “ King,” said Finn, “ there is the head of the man that burned Teamhair, and the pipe and the harp that made his music. And it is what I think,” he said, “ that Teamhair and all that is in it is saved.”

Then they all came together into the place of counsel, and it is what they agreed, the headship of the Fianna of Ireland to be given to Finn. And the king said to Goll, son of Morna : “ Well, Goll,” he said, “ is it your choice to quit Ireland or to put your hand in Finn’s hand ? “ “ By my word, I will give Finn my hand,” said Goll.

And when the charms that used to bring good luck had done their work, the chief men of the Fianna rose up and struck their hands in Finn’s hand, and Goll, son of Morna, was the first to give him his hand the way there would be less shame on the rest for doing it.

And Finn kept the headship of the Fianna until the end ; and the place he lived in was Almhuin of Leinster, where the white dun was made by Nuada of the Tuatha de Danaan, that was as white as if all the lime in Ireland was put on it, and that got its name from the great herd of cattle that died fighting one time around the well, and that left their horns there, speckled horns and white.

And as to Finn himself, he was a king and a seer and a poet ; a Druid and a knowledgeable man ; and everything he said was sweet-sounding to his people. And a better fighting man than Finn never struck his hand into a king’s hand, and whatever any one ever said of him, he was three times better. And of his justice it used to be said, that if his enemy and his own son had come before him to be judged, it is a fair judgment he would have given between them. And as to his generosity it used to be said, he never denied any man as long as he had a mouth to eat with, and legs to bring away what he gave him ; and he left no woman without her bride-price, and no man without his pay ; and he never promised at night what he would not fulfil on the morrow, and he never promised in the day what he would not fulfil at night, and he never forsook his right-hand friend. And if he was quiet in peace he was angry in battle, and Oisin his son and Osgar his son’s son followed him in that. There was a young man of Ulster came and claimed kinship with them one time, saying they were of the one blood. “ If that is so,” said Oisin, “ it is from the men of Ulster we took the madness and the angry heart we have in battle.” “ That is so indeed,” said Finn.

https://archive.org/details/mythslegendscelt00roll/page/257/mode/1up Myths and legends ; the Celtic race by Rolleston, T. W. (Thomas William), 1857-1920 Publication date 1910

p257-8 FINN AND THE GOBLIN

At this time Goll son of Morna was the captain of the Fianna of Erin, but Finn, being come to man’s estate, wished to take the place of his father Cumhal. So he went to Tara, and during the Great Assembly, when no man might raise his hand against any other in the precincts of Tara, he sat down among the king’s warriors and the Fianna. At last the king marked him as a stranger among them, and bade him declare his name and lineage. “ I am Finn son of Cumhal,” said he, “and I am come to take service with thee, O King, as my father did.” The king accepted him gladly, and Finn swore loyal service to him. No long time after that came the period of the year when Tara was troubled by a goblin or demon that came at nightfall and blew fire-balls against the royal city, setting it in flames, and none could do battle with him, for as he came he played on a harp a music so sweet that each man who heard it was lapped in dreams, and forgot all else on earth for the sake of listening to that music. When this was told to Finn he went to the king and said : “ Shall I, if I slay the goblin, have my father’s place as captain of the Fianna ?” “Yea, surely,” said the king, and he bound himself to this by an oath.

Now there were among the men-at-arms an old follower of Finn’s father, Cumhal, who possessed a magic spear with a head of bronze and rivets of Arabian gold. The head was kept laced up in a leathern case ; and it had the property that when the naked blade was laid against the forehead of a man it would fill him with a strength and a battle-fury that would make him invincible in every combat. This spear the man Fiacha gave to Finn, and taught him how to use it, and with it he awaited the coming of the goblin on the ramparts of Tara. As night fell and mists began to gather in the wide plain around the Hill he saw a shadowy form coming swiftly towards him, and heard the notes of the magic harp. But laying the spear to his brow he shook off the spell, and the phantom fled before him to the Fairy Mound of Slieve Fuad, and there Finn overtook and slew him, and bore back his head to Tara.

Then Cormac the King set Finn before the Fianna, and bade them all either swear obedience to him as their captain or seek service elsewhere. And first of all Goll mac Morna swore service, and then all the rest followed, and Finn became Captain of the Fianna of Erin, and ruled them till he died.

The telling in Rolleston’s The High Deeds Of Finn is quite a concise one:

The Coming of Finn”, in The High Deeds Of Finn, T. W. Rolleston, 1910

The High Deeds Of Finn by T.w.rolleston Publication date 1910 p116-119

CHAPTER X

The Coming of Finn

And now we tell how Finn came to the captaincy of the Fianna of Erinn.

At this time Ireland was ruled by one of the mightiest of her native kings, Conn, son of Felimy, who was surnamed Conn of the Hundred Battles. And Conn sat in his great banqueting hall at Tara, while the yearly Assembly of the lords and princes of the Gael went forward, during which it was the inviolable law that no quarrel should be raised and no weapon drawn, so that every man who had a right to come to that Assembly might come there and sit next his deadliest foe in peace. Below him sat at meat the provincial kings and the chiefs of clans, and the High King’s officers and fighting-men of the Fianna, with Goll and the sons of Morna at their head. And there, too, sat modestly a strange youth, tall and fair, whom no one had seen in that place before. Conn marked him with the eye of a king that is accustomed to mark men, and by and by he sent him a horn full of wine from his own table and bade the youth declare his name and lineage. “ I am Finn, son of Cumhal,” said the youth, standing among them, tall as a warrior’s spear, and a start and a low murmur ran through the Assembly while the captains of the Fianna stared upon him like men who see a vision of the dead, “ What seek you here ? “ said Conn, and Finn replied, “To be your man, O King, and to do you service in war as my father did.” “It is well,” said the King. “Thou art a friend’s son and the son of a man of trust.” So Finn put his hand in the King’s and swore fealty and service to him, and Conn set him beside his own son Art, and all fell to talking again and wondering what new things that day would bring forth, and the feasting went merrily forward.

Now at this time the people of the royal burg of Tara were sorely afflicted by a goblin of the Fairy Folk, who was wont to approach the place at nightfall, there to work what harm to man, or beast, or dwelling that he found in his evil mind to do. And he could not be resisted, for as he came he played on a magic harp a strain so keen and sweet, that each man who heard it must needs stand entranced and motionless until the fairy music had passed away. The King proclaimed a mighty reward to any man who would save Tara from the goblin, and Finn thought in his heart, “ I am the man to do that.” So he said to the King, “ Shall I have my rightful heritage as captain of the Fianna of Erin if I slay the goblin ? “ Conn said, “ I promise thee that,” and he bound himself by the sureties of all the provincial Kings of Ireland and of the Druid Kithro and his magicians.

Now there was among the following of Conn a man named Fiacha, who had been as a youth a trusty friend and follower of Cumhal. He came to Finn and brought with him a spear having a head of dark bronze with glittering edges, and fastened with thirty rivets of Arabian gold, and the spearhead was laced up within a leathern case, “ By this weapon of enchantment,” said Fiacha, “you shall overcome the enchanter,” and he taught Finn what to do with it when the hour of need should come.

So Finn took the spear, and left the strings of the case loose, and he paced with it towards nightfall around the ramparts of royal Tara. And when he had once made the circuit of the rampart, and the light had now almost quite faded from the summer sky, and the wide low plains around the Hill of Tara were a sea of white mist, he heard far off in the deepening gloom the first notes of the fairy harp. Never such music was made by mortal hand, for it had in it sorrows that man has never felt, and joys for which man has no name, and it seemed as if a man listening to that music might burst from time into eternity and be as one of the Immortals for evermore. And Finn listened, amazed and rapt, till at last as the triumphant melody grew nearer and louder he saw dimly a Shadow Shape playing as it were on a harp, and coming swiftly towards him. Then with a mighty effort he roused himself from dreams, and tore the cover from the spear-head and laid the metal to his brow. And the demoniac energy that had been beaten into the blade by the hammers ..of unearthly craftsmen in ancient days thrilled through him and made him fighting-mad, and he rushed forward shouting his battle-cry, and swinging the spear aloft. But the Shadow turned and fled before him, and Finn chased it northward to the Fairy Mound of Slieve Fuad, and there he drove the spear through its back. And what it was that fell there in the night, and what it was that passed like the shadow of a shadow into the Fairy Mound, none can tell, but Finn bore back with him next day a pale, sorrowful head on the point of Fiacha’s spear, and the goblin troubled the folk of royal Tara no more.

But Conn of the Hundred Battles called the Fianna together, and he set Finn at his right hand and said, “ Here is your Captain by birth-right and by sword-right. Let who will now obey him henceforward, and who will not, let him go in peace and serve Arthur of Britain or Arist of Alba, or whatsoever King he will.” And Goll, son of Morna, said, “For my part I will be Finn’s man under thee, O King,” and he swore obedience and loyalty to Finn before them all. Nor was it hard for any man to step where Goll had gone before, so they all took their oaths of Fian service to Finn mac Cumhal. And thus it was that Finn came to the captaincy of the Fianna of Erinn, and he ruled the Fianna many a year till he died in battle with the Clan Urgrenn at Brea upon the Boyne.

And once again, Jeremiah Curtin’s telling of the tale is significantly different.

“Birth of Fin MacCumhail”, in Myths and folk-lore of Ireland, Jeremiah Curtin, 1890

https://archive.org/details/mythsfolkloreofi00curtuoft/page/212/mode/1up Myths and folk-lore of Ireland by Curtin, Jeremiah, 1835-1906 Publication date 1890

p213-220

Fin with Bran now went on his way, and travelled till he reached a deep and thick wood, where a thousand horses were drawing timber, and men felling and preparing it.

“What is this?” asked Fin of the overseer of the workmen.

“ Oh, we are building a dun (a castle) for the king; we build one everyday, and every night it is burned to the ground. Our king has an only daughter ; he will give her to any man who will save the dun, and he ‘11 leave him the kingdom at his death. If any man undertakes to save the dun and fails, his life must pay for it; the king will cut his head off. The best champions in Erin have tried and failed ; they are now in the king’s dungeons, a whole army of them, waiting the king’s pleasure. He ‘s going to cut the heads off them all in one day.”

“Why don’t you chew your thumb?” asked Bran.

Fin chewed his thumb to the marrow, and then knew that on the eastern side of the world there lived an old hag with her three sons, and every evening at nightfall she sent the youngest of these to burn the king’s dun.

“ I will save the king’s dun,” said Fin.

“ Well,” said the overseer, “ better men than you have tried and lost their lives.”

“Oh,” said Fin, “I’m not afraid; I’ll try for the sake of the king’s daughter.” Now Fin, followed by Bran, went with the overseer to the king. “ I hear you will give your daughter to the man who saves your dun,” said Fin.

“ I will,” said the king; “but if he fails I must have his head.”

“ Well,” said Fin, “ I ‘11 risk my head for the sake of your daughter. If I fail I ‘m satisfied.” The king gave Fin food and drink; he supped, and after supper went to the dun.

“ Why don’t you chew your thumb? “ said Bran ; “ then you’ll know what to do.” He did. Then Bran took her place on the roof, waiting for the old woman’s son. Now the old woman in the east told her youngest son to hurry on with his torches, burn the dun, and come back without delay; for the stirabout was boiling and he must not be too late for supper.

He took the torches, and shot off through the air with a wonderful speed. Soon he was in sight of the king’s dun, threw the torches upon the thatched roof to set it on fire as usual.

That moment Bran gave the torches such a push with her shoulders, that they fell into the stream which ran around the dun, and were put out. “ Who is this,” cried the youngest son of the old hag, “ who has dared to put out my lights, and interfere with my hereditary right? “

“ I,” said Fin, who stood in front of him. Then began a terrible battle between Fin and the old woman’s son. Bran came down from the dun to help Fin ; she bit and tore his enemy’s back, stripping the skin and flesh from his head to his heels.

After a terrible struggle such as had not been in the world before that night, Fin cut the head off his enemy. But for Bran, Fin could never have conquered. The time for the return of her son had passed ; supper was ready. The old woman, impatient and angry, said to the second son : “ You take torches and hurry on, see why your brother loiters. I ‘11 pay him for this when he comes home ! But be careful and don’t do like him, or you ‘11 have your pay too. Hurry back, for the stirabout is boiling and ready for supper.”

He started off, was met and killed exactly as his brother, except that he was stronger and the battle fiercer. But for Bran, Fin would have lost his life that night.

The old woman was raging at the delay, and said to her eldest son, who had not been out of the house for years : (It was only in case of the greatest need that she sent him. He had a cat’s head, and was called Pus an Chuine, “ Puss of the Corner;” he was the eldest and strongest of all the brothers.) “ Now take torches, go and see what delays your brothers ; I ‘11 pay them for this when they come home.”

The eldest brother shot off through the air, came to the king’s dun, and threw his torches upon the roof. They had just singed the straw a little, when Bran pushed them off with such force that they fell into the stream and were quenched. “ Who is this,” screamed Cat-head, “ who dares to interfere with my ancestral right? “

“ I,” shouted Fin. Then the struggle began fiercer than with the second brother. Bran helped from behind, tearing the flesh from his head to his heels; but at length Cat-head fastened his teeth into Fin’s breast, biting and gnawing till Fin cut the head off. The body fell to the ground, but the head lived, gnawing as terribly as before. Do what they could it was impossible to kill it. Fin hacked and cut, but could neither kill nor pull it off. When nearly exhausted, Bran said Why don’t you chew your thumb? “

Fin chewed his thumb, and reaching the marrow knew that the old woman in the east was ready to start with torches to find her sons, and burn the dun herself, and that she had a vial of liquid with which she could bring the sons to life; and that nothing could free him from Cat-head but the old woman’s blood. After midnight the old hag, enraged at the delay of her sons, started and shot through the air like lightning, more swiftly than her sons. She threw her torches from afar upon the roof of the dun ; but Bran as before hurled them into the stream.

Now the old woman circled around in the air looking for her sons. Fin was getting very weak from pain and loss of blood, for Cat-head was biting at his breast alt the time.

Bran called out: “ Rouse yourself, oh, Fin; use all your power or we are lost! If the old hag gets a drop from the vial upon the bodies of her sons, they will come to life, and then we’re done for.”

Thus roused, Fin with one spring reached the old woman in the air, and swept the bottle from her grasp ; which falling upon the ground was emptied.

The old hag gave a scream which was heard all over the world, came to the ground and closed with Fin. Then followed a battle greater than the world had ever known before that night, or has ever seen since. Water sprang out of gray rocks, cows cast their calves even when they had none, and hard rushes grew soft in the remotest corner of Erin, so desperate was the fighting and so awful, between Fin and the old hag. Fin would have died that night but for Bran.

Just as daylight was coming Fin swept the head off the old woman, caught some of her blood, and rubbed it around Cat-head, who fell off dead.

He rubbed his own wounds with the blood and was cured ; then rubbed some on Bran, who had been singed with the torches, and she was as well as ever. Fin, exhausted with fighting, dropped down and fell asleep.

While he was sleeping the chief steward of the king came to the dun, found it standing safe and sound, and seeing Fin lying there asleep knew that he had saved it. Bran tried to waken Fin, pulled and tugged, but could not rouse him. The steward went to the king, and said : “ I have saved the dun, and I claim the reward.”

“ It shall be given you,” answered the ‘king; and straightway the steward was recognized as the king’s son-in-law, and orders were given to make ready for the wedding.

Bran had listened to what was going on, and when her master woke, exactly at midday, she told him of all that was taking place in the castle of the king. Fin went to the king, and said : “ I have saved your dun, and I claim the reward.”

“ Oh,” said the king, “ my steward claimed the reward, and it has been given to him.”

“ He had nothing to do with saving the dun ; I saved it,” said Fin.

“ Well,” answered the king, “ he is the first man who told me of its safety and claimed the reward.”

“ Bring him here : let me look at him,” said Fin.

He was sent for, and came. “ Did you save the king’s dun ? “ asked Fin. “ I did,” said the steward.

“ You did not, and take that for your lies,” said Fin ; and striking him with the edge of his open hand he swept the head off his body, dashing it against the other side of the room, flattening it like paste on the wall.

“ You are the man,” said the king to Fin, “ who saved the dun; yours is the reward. All the champions, and there is many a man of them, who have failed to save it are in the dungeons of my fortress; their heads must be cut off before the wedding takes place.”

“Will you let me see them? “ asked Fin.

“ I will,” said the king.

Fin went down to the men, and found the first champions of Erin in the dungeons.

“ Will you obey me in all things if I save you from death?” said Fin. “We will,” said they. Then he went back to the king and asked:

“ Will you give me the lives of these champions of Erin, in place of your daughter’s hand?”

“ I will,” said the king.

All the champions were liberated, and left the king’s castle that day. Ever after they followed the orders of Fin, and these were the beginning of his forces and the first of the Fenians of Erin.

TO DO - last 3(?) chapters also tell the tale in https://archive.org/details/finnhiscompanion00ogra_0/page/125/mode/1up Finn and his companions by O’Grady, Standish, 1846-1928 p126-132

Also to do - when Fionn meets the men as hinted in finn childhood?