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CHAPTER 5
RITUALS OF CONFLICT REDUCTION IN
TÁIN BÓ CÚAILNGE AND OTHER EARLY IRISH TALES1
Anyone who remembers childhood can recall the boundaries between his own gang and the next. For childish empires carve up space as quickly as do full-grown warrior bands. (The Irish Countryman, Arensberg 1959, 108)
A Specialization of the Ulster Cycle
This chapter is about boundaries between 'gangs' carved up by both full-grown warriors and a boy — all of which is played out within the framework of cattle raiding and status competitions. These themes are important to Irish heroic literature, although to some readers they may not seem particularly heroic. Indeed, the heroic literature of medieval Ireland's Ulster Cycle first drew my interest because it does not fit the mold of other European epics. The Ulster Cycle defies categorization as either epic poetry or folktale, yet its terse prose interspersed with occasional runs of poetry echoes with the elements of both folktale and epic (see Tymoczko 1983 for details on the form of Táin Bó Cúailnge, 'The Cattle Raid of Cúailnge').*
* Hereafter abbreviated as TBC. When citing from the original texts, I will refer to TBC as both TBC-I for the older Recension I version (O'Rahilly 1976), and TBC-II (O'Rahilly 1967) for the later Recension II. See Chapter 2 for a discussion of the TBC texts. To refresh the memory about basic textual matters: Recension I is incomplete, sometimes summarized, and is a bad job of compiling. But its language seems to be of the eighth century (making TBC-I our earliest version), when Ireland was probably organized as chiefdoms. Recension II represents a version heavily edited for clarity and consistency by a twelfth-century scribe and is a version further than TBC-I from circulation in oral tradition and closer an era of greater social complexity (perhaps stratified or state society). But Recension II is easier to follow and more complete. Citing both versions here permits the reader a relatively complete view of the medieval TBC tradition.
And of course, the stories of the cycle can startle the modern reader with their seemingly unusual mixture of high drama and rough humor (see Tymoczko 1983, 8 for a summary). Literary scholars who are accustomed to conventional works do not often raise the Ulster Cycle as an example of sophistication, but I suggest that the tradition is not a primitive form of art but is rather a sophisticated narrative tradition that was vital to ancient Irish life. Specifically, some tales of the Ulster Cycle may have functioned to depict and support rituals that controlled the destructive effects of inter- and intratribal conflicts. The rituals depicted in the tales often seem dependent on a chiefdom-level of society.
I will focus on three tales of the cycle. TBC depicts rituals that helped define borders and regulate contacts across them, especially by reducing the possibility of mass warfare; Scéla Mucce Meic Dathó ('The Tale of Mac Dathó's Pig') depicts the channeling of intertribal hostilities over status into verbal rather than physical combat; and Fled Bricrend ('The Feast of Bricriu') comments upon the arrogance and danger of status pursuits by making them comically penalizing. All of these patterns of narrative, which may have reflected categories of actual behavior, depict the ideal rituals of conflict reduction of the early Irish period (from about the sixth century A.D. to the twelfth century) and the consequences of ignoring them.
I will summarize TBC here; the other tales will be summarized when they are discussed. Murphy's Saga and Myth in Ancient Ireland (1961) is useful as a general introduction to early Irish tradition. I have culled elements of the following synopses from this book and added my own comments.
The central tale of the [Ulster] cycle is Táin Bó Cúailnge (The Cattle-spoil of Cooley). It tells how Cú Chulainn (The Hound of Culann), while still a youth, held up an army of Connacht invaders while awaiting the arrival of the other Ulidians, who were perforce inactive because of a strange illness which used to attack them periodically, the ces noinden or 'nine days illness', traced by modern anthropologists to a primitive couvade ceremony. (1961, 37).
I add that the saga proceeds literally behind the army of the invaders as they seek entrance to the district of Cooley (the peninsula next to Carlingford Lough, on the east coast, immediately south of the border of Northern Ireland). We also follow Cú Chulainn as he moves from ford to ford, defending the borders with a series of single combats and guerilla warfare when the invaders refuse to play fair. The tale is full of place-name stories that explain now natural and man-made features originated, and of sometimes enigmatic rituals, rules, and truces that govern the conflicts. As the end of the saga nears, the Ulstermen arise from their pangs and begin gathering for the final battle that routs the invaders. The founding cause of the battle — Medb's desire to add Ulster's biggest bull to her herd so that her wealth will equal her husband's — is de-emphasized until the end of the saga, when the bulls fight and die.
Pastoralism in Ireland
A consideration of tribal borders in Ireland necessarily involves the pastoral (or semi-nomadic) nature of early Irish culture, since people who travel frequently may complicate the concerns of territorial rights of both fellow tribesfolk and rivals. The nature of pastoralism and nomadism in general is not a simple one (Salzman 1972, 67). There are various kinds of pastoralism from the cyclic wanderers such as the Bedouins, who until recently did not much engage in settled life or agriculture, to the part-time pastoralists associated with a central farming settlement, which appears to be the situation in medieval Ireland. But we must be cautious in defining Celtic pastoralism; that is, we should not apply too much the classical authors' descriptions of massive Celtic migrations on the European continent. As Byrne (1971, 139) writes:
The economy of the Irish túath is a subject requiring much further research, but it is quite certain that any imaginative picture of nomad pastoralists roaming the about the country at will cannot correspond to historical reality. The laws are explicit that both noble and commoner were engaged in tillage as well as pastoral farming...Practice no doubt varied from region to region and from century to century: then as now more intensive tillage must have been commoner in some areas than in others...But on the whole, primitive conditions could not have afforded the economic sub-structure for real specialization, and mixed farming must have been the norm.
Mixed farming has advantages, which Lees and Bates (1974, 188) indicate:
Since the areas where rainfall is sufficient for agriculture are also in or near zones of natural pasture, we would assume little difficulty in labor allocation between the two modes of production (agricultural and pastoral) in such areas. Here, a high degree of sedentary or short-range transhumant pastoralism is feasible. In fact, it would appear to be quite advantageous. While pastoral husbandry, like agriculture, is subject to environmental hazards, it allows for some avoidance of risk under certain conditions. Unlike planted crops, herds can be moved to more favorable areas in times of local drought or other disaster.
Transhumant pastoralism was generally practiced until the nineteenth century in some parts of Ireland; cattle were driven to moorland or upland pastures in the summer months while the land was under tillage; cattle would be driven back in the winter and allowed to wander freely in the inner fields and nearby pastures. It is tempting to apply such descriptions to create a picture of early Irish transhumance, although it must be done with caution: "Only in certain túatha can summer pasturage have been a practical proposition or indeed a geographical possibility" (Byrne 1971, 140). Additionally, the distance to summer and winter pastures may not have been great since the region of each tribe was relatively small (ibid). Therefore our picture of Irish pastoralism must be open to the variability of the practice although it is certain that it significantly shaped culture on the island.
Pastoralism and Borderlands
Boundaries hold importance in many societies, and their integrity has been the source of many disputes. As the Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology, and Legend states:
To prevent the encroachment of neighbors or neighboring peoples, folk customs have developed and laws have been passed. Natural landmarks such as rivers, trees, boulders, seas, and mountains, and artificial landmarks such as boundary stones, pillars, posts, hedges, walls, or fences have been employed throughout the world. Trespass was and is usually considered a crime. Trespassers were often killed when caught, or punished by mutilation (India), and quarrels were frequently settled at the boundary stones.
Boundary markers or stones were regarded as sacred by many peoples... Cruel and severe punishments were meted out to those who removed landmarks. (Leach 1972, 58)
Many of these themes, especially the use of landmarks and the concern about trespass, will be encountered as we delve deeply into the early Irish lore of border behavior.
The Magic and Law in Borders
Boundaries in Celtic society reflect the aura of sanctity that hovers around borders world-wide. Borders between seasons held magical significance for the Celts (Rees and Rees 1961, 92 ff.), and this significance held true for political lines, as well:
[B]oundaries between territories, like boundaries between years and between seasons, are lines along which the supernatural intrudes through the surface of existence. ...This mysterious character of boundaries (which usually follow rivers and streams) enhances the significance of combats at fords, which are a recurrent feature of Celtic story. Fought at such a place a combat partakes in some measure of the nature of divination rite, as do contests engaged in at the boundaries of seasons. (Rees and Rees 1961, 94)
As we shall see, single combat at borders seems to have the power of divination* when the opposing sides bow to the rules and consequences of the combats and thereby reduce destructiveness.
* Tacitus wrote that the Germans of the first century used single combat as a ritual of divination: "They contrive somehow to secure a captive of the nation with which they are at war and match him against a champion of their own, each being armed with his national weapons. The victory of one or the other is thought to forecast the issue of the war" (Tacitus 1977 rpt./1948, 110).
Pastoralism makes border behaviors interesting because it directly affects the integrity of tribal borders. The movement of people and animals toward valuable grazing areas could be a constant challenge to the territorial concerns of neighbors. Historical sources indicate that life in early Ireland was a not simple act of staying on one's own side of a line. Ireland's ancient laws, chronicles, and sagas were often concerned with trespassing. The entire TBC concerns a massive trespass, one might say, of Connacht's army into Ulster's territory. In the law tracts, trespass is handled with detail. One might fear a squatter on one's land, for example, because, "It is an offense to squat or farm on another's land without permission. However...a man can establish right of ownership of land if his presence thereon is uncontested for a period of time" (Kelly 1988, 109). An offense against property includes 'animal trespass'. Kelly (1988, 142-143) writes:
Most of Bretha Comaithchesa 'the judgements of neighbourhood'...deals with damage to land and crops by the domestic animals of a neighbour — clearly a major source of legal action in early Ireland, as in any mixed farming community. To lessen the chance of dispute, each farmer gives a fore-pledge...to his neighbours, which becomes forfeit in the event of trespass. ...Bretha Comaithchesa and other texts discuss in great detail the various forms of animal trespass. The general principle is the obvious one of relating the amount of compensation to the amount of damage done. Hence, the penalty when cattle break into meadow is twice as much as when they break into moorland or after-grass. Similarly, grazing-trespass in winter when grass is scarce entails a heavier fine than in summer. ...Where there is malice or neglect on the part of the owner of trespassing livestock, the penalty is greater, as it is counted as 'human trespass' (duine-chaithig) rather than an 'animal trespass' (rop-chaithig). This applies where a farmer drives his cattle onto his neighbor's land, or deliberately breaks down a fence.
Circumstances Behind Boundary Behaviors
If boundaries were especially important in the early Irish period, we must trace the factors that made them such a critical issue. O'Riain (1972, 66) writes that population growth stimulated the development of Irish boundary institutions. Growth appears to have occurred between 600 and 800 A.D. (O'Corrain 1972, 48); there is evidence that this growth was a harmful one at times. One record hints that a famine occurred in 665 A.D. because husbandmen were not allotted enough land (Mac Niocaill 1972, 66). While we may be skeptical about medieval explanations for disease, the annal entry suggests that a concern about land hunger existed. Furthermore, an archaic law stated that deficient estates could be supplemented by unappropriated lands; yet by 800 A.D. very little unappropriated land existed (O'Corrain 1972, 49). Let us examine the consequences of relatively dense population for a semi-pastoral culture.
Although Ireland was not overpopulated by modern standards, we must measure the idea of crowding by ancient standards. For example, pre-Norman Ireland may have had a population of under 500,000 (Byrne 1971, 160). That number does not sound too high. Today, Ireland's population is in the millions, and although the landscape is well used, one does not see crowds of people rubbing elbows. But such a viewpoint must be tempered by several facts. First, the population of Ireland is now sedentary, and boundaries are surveyed and set and laws are established by an accepted state government. Second, agriculture is now a highly refined science; modern farmers have agricultural surplus and efficient storage techniques for food and fodder (of course, some foods are imported). The effects of higher population are not so much felt today because farms and the economy in general yield more than ever before.
But this was not the case in the early periods. Then, as now, Ireland was graced with a relatively temperate climate that encouraged the growth of large herds and, therefore, encouraged pastoralism. This pastoralism was not confined to privately owned farms that had well-defined hedges and fences, but rather we should imagine the ancient herders as traveling further across the joint tribal land than the modern farmer does within his privately owned pastures. Also, consider that ancient farmers may have relied more on their livestock for subsistence than modern farmers — they were not protected from agricultural catastrophes by a diversity of foods, the storage of food and fodder, or by the surpluses of a complex state society. For instance, the fair climate allowed herds to graze year round, so storage technology such as byres was not well developed, if at all, and hay was not cut for storage; but an unusually harsh winter might decimate cattle suddenly (O'Corrain 1972, 54).
Indeed, TBC does seem to take place during the winter, a possibility that makes sense because of the potential cattle decimations discussed above and because of the "food energy pulse" of post-harvest days. The poet stresses more than once that the season is winter, in both recensions. The Connachtmen are shown to be suffering a harsh winter snowfall; their hardships are made quite evident. See, for example, TBC-I, 133; TBC-II, 151-152. Cú Chulainn's single-handed fight against Connacht is said to have occurred through the three months of winter, in TBC-I (216), and between the beginning of the season of Samain, which begins November 1, to the beginning of Imbolc, or spring, February 1, in TBC-II (244). By analogy, anthropologists have found that "rituals of rebellion" have occurred in Africa during seasonal changes that bring about increased nutrition. Dirks (1988, 859) writes,
The ripening of the first fruits of the year and the onset of harvest set into motion disruptive forces nearly everywhere in Southwest Africa. Most tribes experienced an annual spell of semi-starvation. While so-called hungry months lasted, inanition put a damper on social activities. But as soon as there was more to eat, people embarked on an intense round of convivial events. At the same time they also returned to unfriendly pursuits, such as intracommunity quarreling and war. ...the heavy demands of ceremony at this time, including those associated with kingship rites, functioned to release this surge of energy and emotions in a measured and controlled manner. So channeled and over the long run, these discharges resulted more in enactments of unity than in animosity.
Note that the tribesfolk can speak for themselves on this subject, as Evans-Pritchard (1968 rpt./1940, 84) observed of the Nuer of Africa (the Nuer, organized as chiefdoms, at least until the early 1940s, in what is now part of Sudan, were both agriculturalists and pastoralists): "Nuer say that hunger and war are bad companions and that they are too hungry to fight in the full dry season."