Tales of the Tinker No.4. The trials and tribulations of Murchadh Mear 'The Crazy'

The weekend had been quiet and O'Donovan had used it to write up his journal, transcribing all the various notes he had taken over the last few weeks and placing them under the heading of 'People and Places of Co.Donegal'. He had also, on the Saturday morning, taken the opportunity of a trip into Donegal itself, where he had bought himself a brand new pair of hob-nailed boots, made in Belfast and of the type favoured by the ship-builders there.

The boots were stiff and uncomfortable, as new boots always are, and would take some wearing-in. O'Donovan was thinking about this and the pretty shop assistant with the dark hair and bright blue eyes who had helped him as he tried the boots on in the shoe shop as he held the measuring stick steady, closing his eyes as he tried to remember the girl's face and feeling the sun bright and warm on his face. 

The scene on Dunfanaghy strand on that Monday morning was a peaceful one, with the fishing boats out to sea. One or two of them visible on the horizon, tiny charcoal spots floating a mile or two off the head.

The survey had now moved on to the southern quarter of the strand, were there were fewer houses and the view along the coast to the west was uninterrupted. From here he could make out Sheephaven Bay, on the other side of the head. It was along the road from this direction that he saw the chief and his family, making their way from house to house, collecting knives and other implements for sharpening, as well as the odd pot or pan that needed fixing.

It was more or less an hour by the time the chief and his family had made his way down to the strand and a quick touch of the brim of his cap was his greeting to O'Donovan.

O'Donovan thought of what the chief had said on that last Friday night, after he'd finished telling him the tale of the Yellow Night, and how he'd said he would next tell him the story of Murchadh, who was apparently crazy, or so he thought he remembered.

It was almost five in the afternoon by the time the two men had finished their surveying for the day and had packed up the gear. O'Donoghue's pub was only two hundred yards away from the spot they had last measured from, give or take a foot or two, and so O'Donovan was stood by the bar, talking to the drummer when the chief entered, shortly after a quarter past. O'Donovan attempted to pay for an extra pint of porter but Seamus O'Donoghue refused the money, saying 'the chief drinks free here, son.'

The chief took his place at the same table as usual and O'Donovan joined him with the pair of pints. Slowly, the chief took off his cap, took a swig of his pint and then began to tell the story of the trials and tribulations of Murchadh Mear, 'The Crazy', of which the following details were written down by O'Donovan within hours of the old chief telling it:

On the death of Eoin MacSween, who as you may recall, was also known as the 'Yellow Knight', his son, Sween mac Eoin assumed the lordship of the country in spite of Toirrdhealbhach, although Toirrdhealbhach was older than Sween. And by violence he deprived his senior kinsman of the chieftaincy. His people besought Toirrdhealbhach to slay Sween for his usurpation, but the answer Toirrdhealbhach made was that he would allow God to deal with him till the end of a year, and if for God he would not cease before that, that he himself would then attack him. And when God observed his humility and patience, He caused Sween to die within the year. And Eoin, or his son Sween, hadnot issue, except only Catherine, daughter of Eoin, she who was mother of Aodh [O Domhnaill], the son of Domhnall Og. 

Toirrdhealbhach next assumed the chieftain-ship, and after having held it for a long time, he set out with a small company to Fearsat Mhór to make claim on O' Domhnaill and O' Docharty for violation of his surety. And the host on the other side, observing the fewness of Mac Sweeney's followers, attacked him. There was with Toirrdhealbhach a certain champion named Radharc- breaghach, who had forty-eight arrows in his quiver, and with each arrow of these he slew either a horse or a man. In the end he was slain himself. It was announced to Mac Sweeney that they had lost Radharc-breaghach, and when he heard that, he said "If he has been lost to us, we have lost our sight and our hearing." 

With difficulty then they made their way to Béal Atha Daire. There they were overtaken, and Mac Sweeney was slain, and they say it was old age and inabihty to walk that was the cause of his slaying. Ever since that day he has been known as Toirrdhealbhach of Béal Atha Daire. And his followers escaped with difficulty, and entered their ships at Leac an Bhacáin in Fanad. 

The only posterity of Toirrdhealbhach of which there is record was Eoin Mac Sweeney, namely, a son of Toirrdhealbhach's son. By Toirrdhealbhach he was named Mac Dunnsléibhe. It was he who sent to Roscommon the famous food that ye have heard of. 

Now as for that following of Mac Sweeney, when they had lost their chieftain, they proceeded to Scotland to Castle Sween, where Murchadh Mear Mac Sweeney, that is, 'Murchadh the Crazy,' was, and his son Murchadh Og ' Murchadh the Younger.' To Murchadh Mear they made complaint that his kinsmen and his people had been slain by the men of Tír Chonaill, and that the King had proclaimed that they should go into exile. When Murchadh Mear heard their complaint, anger and rage filled him, and he set out to make a claim on the King for banishing his relatives and kinsfolk. Then there arose dispute and war between them, so that the King of Scotland collected great, numerous hosts, and immense, select troops, and the noblemen of his family, and his great household, and it was proclaimed by him that Murchadh Mear should accept battle, or depart out of Scotland. When Murchadh Mear heard that, he gathered all his followers in Scotland, and each assailed the other swiftly and stoutly,and with fierceness and violence. Then on bones there was many a sword's rattle, and many a crash of maimed limbs, and bodies wounded, and eyes left sightless. Mothers were bereft of sons, and wives of husbands, and on either side it were impossible to describe or enumerate the slain. 

Sruibhshhabh in Scotland is the name of the place where that battle was fought, and it was there that Murchadh Mear captured the holy, noble, beautiful cross which Clann MacSweeney preserved generation after generation. It was the holy cross of the Battle of Srnibhshiiabh, and they say it was all of gold. It was burned in the church of Cluain Dabhuadhóg  'Clondavaddog,' together with many other precious articles not here mentioned, on one occasion when the church was burned. 

As for the opposing armies just described, they continued to destroy and slaughter each other, and the erid of the engagement was that the King of Scotland was defeated, and his people slain in great numbers. And that, so far, is the Battle of Sruibhshliabh. 

As for Murchadh Mear, after the battle of Sruibhshliabh he proposed setting out to avenge his brethren and kinsfolk in Ireland. He collected a great splendid fleet, and he and his followers launched their immense capacious ships, and their long surpassing swift galleys, and their beautiful easily managed boats, on the surface of the expansive deep, and on the high storm-swept sea, and on the blue-horizoned limitless abyss. They rowed with might and main, and they rested not until they reached the calm beautiful haven of Swilly. They sent out scouting parties in all the districts on every side of them, and they slew their kings and princes and lords, so that their nobles all perished, and their hostages were taken by Murchadh Mear and his son, Murchadh Og. These were the territories first conquered by Murchadh Mear in Ireland, namely, the middle third of Inis Eoghain, and Fanad, and Ross Gull, and O Maolgaoithe's tuath, and the two tuaths of Tír Baghuine. 

And on these lands he distributed his family and his people, and they have occupied ever since all that conquest, save only the middle third of Inis Eoghain. 

Some time after Murchadh Mear had made that conquest, his wildness and enthusiasm drove him to think of going in search of the Fortunate Island, for he had heard some account of its wonders. He set out in quest of it, leaving all his countries to his family, namely, from the mountain [of Bearnas Mór] eastward to his son Murchad Og, and the two tuaths of Tír Baghuine to the son of his son, that is, Dubhghall, son of Maolmhuire, son of Murchadh Mear. The descendants of Dubhghall have been in that territory from that to the present time. To his son and his people he gave command that they should proclaim no lord until the end of a year, and if he himself did not retum in that space of time, that they should make his son Murchadh Og lord. 

He did not come back within the year, and since he did not retum, they inaugurated Murchadh Og, as Murchadh Mear had ordered. Concerning Murchadh Mear, he set out with one ship's crew to search for the Fortunate Island, and on that expedition there befell him many terrible and strange things. One day as they were traversing the sea they came upon a sandbank in mid-ocean. They landed there, and kindling a fire on the sandbank, they were partaking by the fire's side of whatever they had collected thereon, and Murchadh, having got up to explore the place, beheld the eyes of a monster and the semblance of his entire head. And when he came to where his people were, he ordered them into their ship, not telling them what he had seen till they had gone a long distance away from the sandbank. 

Then they observed the sandbank submerging in the sea, and their ship was almost engulfed by the huge disturbance it set upon the water as it went down. And they say that that which was there was one half of the ocean swollen to excessive size. 

From there they proceeded till they came near the Fortunate Island, and they observed many strange, immense monsters in the place, and huge, indescribable flocks of sheep. There was one great flock which was bigger than all the rest. As they came close to the island,' all the sheep came near to look at them, and took their position on an immense cliff which was over the spot where the ship lay. And one of the sheep, a great, big, fine ram, jumped with a swift, violent bound, and alighted in the middle of the ship. The men who were with Murchadh caught him, and it was a task of difficulty for them all to tie him down. 

The horn of that ram was on the altar of Gleann Eile 'Glanely,' and it was able to hold three glasses of wine or water. In the opposite end of the island thev saw a huge beast which they thought was a whale. And another small one of the shape of a little pig they observed pushing the large creature with its snout, and driving it before itself along the strand. 

Against the advice of his people Murchadh landed on the island, and came to the place where the little animal was. He struck it three times with his sword, but failed to draw blood. And the animal took no heed of him except to look at him when he gave the last blow, and Murchadh never before experienced a marvel, or a trouble, or a difficulty so horrible and so terrifying as the look which that beast gave. 

Thereupon he left the island, having seen many other strange sights, and in the end they retumed to Ireland after the long period they spent on that expedition. To Murchadh his chieftainship was offered again, but he refused to accept it, saying that he would never depose his son, and that he would retum to his native country to Scotland. And, bidding farewell to his son and to all his people, he then set forth and went to Scotland, whence he never since retumed. That, so far, is the story of Murchadh Mear. 

The music had stopped when the old chief stood up again, replacing the tweed cap on that fine head of his. Turning to the door, he stopped briefly and said "If you're here tomorrow I'll tell you the story of Murchadh Mear's sons and of Tirlogh 'The One-Eyed' and how it was they came to be Lords of Fanad". 

O' Donovan watched the chief as he walked out of the pub, the regulars all calling out their good wishes and so forth, and as the door closed shut again, the musicians once more gathering up their instruments and striking up another tune.