Faery Places

Magh Mhór (Plain of the Dead Men) Momur (The Great Plain, Great Bog)

O nobles of the land of comely Conn, hearken a while for a blessing, till I tell you the legend of the elders of the ordering of Tailtiu’s Fair!

Three hundred years and three it covers, from the first Fair at Tailtiu to the birth of Christ, hearken! Tailtiu, daughter of gentle Magmor, wife of Eochu Garb son of Dui Dall (Blind Diety), came hither leading the Fir Bolg host to Caill Chuan (Wolf Forest), after high battle. Caill Chuan, a thicket of trees from Escir to Ath Drommann, from the Great Bog, a long journey, from the Sele to Ard Assuide. Assuide, the seat of the hunt, whither gathered the red-coated deer; often was the bugle first sounded east of the wood, the second time on the edge of Clochar. Cairpre (Soul)’s hounds killed their quarry on the land of Tipra Mungairde

...For ever endures the wall of Tailtiu, where numbers of women were buried, and the wall that hides many dead, where Eochu Garb was buried. On the wall of Eochu, compact of stones, twenty seats of the kings of Tara; and on the smooth wall of his wife twenty seats of their queens. The Stone of Grop, the Stone of Gar, the Stone of the Sick Men, the Leper’s Stone beside the seats; the Rocks of Counting, the Wheel of Fal Fland, the Pillar of Colman, the Cairn of Conall. Forbidden for Tailtiu is a cast at random; forbidden, to ride through it without alighting; forbidden, when leaving it for a meal, to look at it over the left shoulder. – Metrical Dindsenchas, vol 4. translated by Edward Gwynn. Hodges & Figgis, Dublin 1925

(pron. MOY MORE) ‘In Ireland up to recent times, departing souls were often equipped with a stout pair of boots to last them on their walk across Magh Mhór. It was the custom of pre-Christian Celts to provide souls with food and drink for their journey, and nobles were often buried with a chariot and horses to take them on their way across the worlds’

Ciad: King of the Herrings journeys to the Plain of Dead Men and picks up his cousin Swift Sword of Spain [who has a golden boot] before journeying to Persia for the Ioca: Ointment of Health that cures wounds & restores the dead to life. Ruled by the Firbolg Earth goddess of sovereignty Tailte (tal-cha): Diadem called the flesh of the world and one of the duile: elements. Her plain has three miracles: a man without a head, the son of a boy of seven years, held on a finger and the fall of the priest from the air. Tailte lives on the magical hill of Teamhair: Tara with a palace at Teltown. (133, 241) [Worlds List]

Tailte, Tailtu, Talaith, Tailefhlaith, Tuilelaith: Diadem, Talar: From the Headland, Talan, Talamh: Earth, Talantiu: The Great One of the Earth, Telyn: Harp (pron. tal-cha, TAL-tee, til la la) Her feast day is August 16th She & Eochaid Mac Erc: Divine Horse Son of Salmon hunted red deer in the Caill Chuan: Wolf Forest, Teltown before she died of starvation. The forest was cleared after Cath Maigh Tured: Grain Harvest Plain of Frost into a clovery plan. As she was dying she prophecied Ireland would be with perfect song if every prince accepted her.

The God Lugh: Raven created a fair of gold and silver with games to honor her, gall-cherd, music, adornment of body and soul with knowledge and eloquence called Lammas: Bread Loaf or Lughnasa: Gleam Night on August 1. Lugh made the shamrock clover the symbol of the fair for 303 years before the birth of Christ. Saint Patrick invaded and preached that noone would find peace as long as her sanctuary endured. The fair continued without ‘sin, insult, fraud, theft, reproach, or redemption.’ Her sanctuary tombs flooded with mourners bearing candles to watch the dead. Tombs had one door for men of art; two doors for women; none for youth and walls for the dead of great plagues and mounds. The fair subdues curses: Many a dead man his fate bewailed in the graveyard of the wealthy Fenians. Tailltean Marriages: Trial marriages, for a duration of a year and a day, were held on her sacred site to promote fertility. (47, 55, 99, 132)

The Cloud-woman, Mor, was the daughter
Of Griann, the Sun,– well, & she
Made a marriage to equal that grandeur,
For her Goodman was Lir, the Sea.

The Cloud-woman Mor, she had seven
Strong sons, & the story-books say
Their inches grew in the night-time,
And grew over again in the day.

The Cloud-woman Mor,– as they grew in
Their bone, she grew in her pride,
Till her haughtiness turned away, men say,
Her goodman Lir from her side;

She lived in Mor’s Home & she watched
With pride her sons & her crop,
Till one day the wish in her grew
To view from the mountain-top

All, all that she owned, so she
Traveled without any stop.
And what did she see? A thousand
Fields & her own fields small, small!
What a fine & wide place is Eirinn, said she,
I am Mor, but not great after all.

Then a herdsman came, & he told her
That her sons had stolen away:
They had left the calves in the hollow,
With the goose-flock they would not stay:

They had seen three ships on the sea
And nothing would do them but go:
Mor wept & wept when she heard it,
And her tears made runnels below.
Then her shining splendor departed:
She went, & she left no trace,
And the Cloud-woman, Mor, was never
Beheld again in that place.

The proud woman, Mor, who was daughter
Of Griann, the Sun, & who made
A marriage to equal that grandeur,
Passed away as a shade. – The King of Ireland’s Son