Thus ends that famous tale—“The Fate of the Sons of Tuirenn”, known as one of the “Three Sorrowful Stories of Erin”.[134]

This story of the _Fate of the Children of Tuirenn_ is mentioned in the ninth-century “Cormac’s Glossary”. It is found in various Irish and Scottish MSS., including the Book of Lecan. The present re-telling is from Eugene O’Curry’s translation, published in _Atlantis_, Vol. IV.

The Mythology of the British Islands — Part 59

A part of County Louth, between the Boyne and Dundalk. The heroic cycle connects it especially with Cuchulainn. Pronounced _Mŭrthemna_ or _Mŭrhevna_.

The Mythology of the British Islands — Part 59

There is known to have been a hill called Ard Chein (Cian’s Mound) in the district of Muirthemne, and O’Curry identifies it tentatively with one now called Dromslian.

The Mythology of the British Islands — Part 59

The country seems to have been identified with Norway or Iceland.

The other two are “The Fate of the Children of Lêr”, told in chap. XI, and “The Fate of the Sons of Usnach”, an episode of the Heroic Cycle, related in chap. XIII.

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By this time the seven years of preparation had come to an end. A week before the Day of Samhain, the Morrígú discovered that the Fomors had landed upon Erin. She at once sent a messenger to tell the Dagda, who ordered his druids and sorcerers to go to the ford of the River Unius, in Sligo, and utter incantations against them.

The people of the goddess Danu, however, were not yet quite ready for battle. So the Dagda decided to visit the Fomorian camp as an ambassador, and, by parleying with them, to gain a little more time. The Fomors received him with apparent courtesy, and, to celebrate his coming, prepared him a feast of porridge; for it was well-known how fond he was of such food. They poured into their king’s cauldron, which was as deep as five giant’s fists, fourscore gallons of new milk, with meal and bacon in proportion. To this they added the whole carcasses of goats, sheep, and pigs; they boiled the mixture together, and poured it into a hole in the ground. “Now,” said they, “if you do not eat it all, we shall put you to death, for we will not have you go back to your own people and say that the Fomors are inhospitable.” But they did not succeed in frightening the Dagda. He took his spoon, which was so large that two persons of our puny size might have reclined comfortably in the middle of it, dipped it into the porridge, and fished up halves of salted pork and quarters of bacon.