The Wandering of the
Déise
The Déise were one of
the first tribes to settle in Waterford, but their journey to the county was a
long and arduous one, filled with warfare and magic. It was first documented in
the 12th century manuscript, The Book of Leinster, under the title
of ‘Tairired na nDésse’ (The Wandering of the Déise).
The story of the Déise
tribe begins in 3rd century County Meath where they owned a lot of
land near Tara, which was the capital of Ireland at the time. One of their
leaders was called Óengus of the Dread Spear because he owned the Spear of
Lugh, one of the four treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. It was a magical
weapon which, once thrown, never missed its mark. It had a life of its own and
had to be chained inside a cauldron for safe keeping. The cauldron had to be
filled with blood to stop the spear from going on fire. The weapon made Óengus
a powerful and much feared leader.
For years, the Déise
lived in peace beside the high king of Ireland, but that ended when one of the high
king’s sons, Cellach, fell in love with Óengus’s niece. She had no interest in him,
and rejected his advances, but Cellach was a prince who was used to getting what
he wanted, so he kidnapped the girl and took her to Tara.
When Óengus heard what
had happened to his niece, he was angry and went to Tara to get her back. He
was accompanied by a small band of men carrying a large cauldron with Lugh's
dreaded spear inside, just in case. At the gates of Tara, Óengus called out for
the release of his niece, but Cellach refused.
Enraged, Óengus ordered
that his spear be released. He put on a thick pair of leather gloves and when
his men had loosened the spear’s chains, he reached into the cauldron of blood.
As soon as his fingers wrapped themselves around the shaft of the weapon, he
felt the energy pulsing inside it. He lifted it out, dripping with blood and convulsing
restlessly. It took all his strength to hold onto the spear because it had already
read the holder’s mind and knew who its target was. But still, Óengus waited.
The spear vibrated so much that it started to glow red, getting hotter and
hotter, until it burst into flames. Only then, did Óengus release it.
The burning lance shot up
into the air with its three chains flailing at its sides, scorching a trail of fire
over the gates of the high king and into his royal fort. It weaved in and out
between the king’s soldiers, making a beeline for Cellach. As it reached the
prince, the king himself tried to stop it, but the weapon swerved to avoid him.
In doing so, one of its trailing chains, caught the king in the eye, blinding
him, which meant he didn’t have to witness the weapon fly straight through his
son, leaving a burning hole in his chest. By the time Cellach hit the ground,
dead, the spear had returned to its thrower and was being rechained once again inside
its cauldron.
In fear of another attack,
the high king released Óengus’s niece. It was only when the Déise were gone
that the king realised that he had just lost more than a son and an eye,
because the law stated that the high king had to be without blemishes. In other
words, a man with only one eye could not be the high king of Ireland. Angered
by all that he had lost, he rallied an army and went after Óengus.
After seven great
battles, the Déise were defeated and driven out of County Meath. They headed
south into County Laois where they fought the Uí Bairriche clan and drove them
off their land. They stayed there for thirty years but the Uí Bairriche regrouped
and grew in strength until they could retaliate. After a lot of fighting, the
Déise were defeated and again, driven off their land.
Homeless, they wandered further
south to Ard Ladrann, which is now the parish of Ardamine, near Gorey in County
Wexford. There, they were given land by the king of Leinster in exchange for
his marriage to a Déise woman. When this woman got pregnant, a druid called Brí
prophesised that the child would be a girl and that ‘all the men of Ireland shall
know her, and her mother’s kindred will seize the land on which they dwell.’ In
other words, this girl would end the wandering of the Déise and would finally
find them a home.
Because of this prophecy,
the child was treated with the greatest of care when she was born. She was even
fed the flesh of little boys so that she might grow up strong. She became known
as Eithne the Terrible, because little boys were terrified of her.
Meanwhile, the new high king
of Ireland felt bad about how the Déise had been banished from their land and
invited them back but they refused, putting all their hopes into the prophecy
that Eithne the Terrible would find them a new home.
When Eithne’s father,
the king of Leinster died, his sons took over and wanted the Déise off their
land so they drove them into the Kingdom of Ossory, which is modern day County
Kilkenny. The Déise were not welcomed there and were driven into the Kingdom of
Munster. It was here that Eithne the Terrible, now a grown woman of great
beauty, would fulfil the prophecy of her birth.
She was so alluring that
when the king of Munster saw her, he asked her to marry him, but Eithne was
more interested in finding a home for her people than becoming a queen so she
asked the king what he was willing to offer for her hand in marriage. The king
was so taken with Eithne that he said she could have three wishes.
‘And I can ask for
anything?’ she clarified.
The king nodded.
‘For my first wish,’
said Eithne, ‘I ask for revenge upon the Kingdom of Ossory, for they treated my
people very badly.’
The king agreed, and the
next day, he sent his soldiers into Ossory. A great battle raged, but the Ossory
troops held firm against the invaders.
‘Has my wish been
granted?’ Eithne asked the king.
He shook his head. ‘We
cannot defeat them.’
‘Perhaps the wand can
succeed where the sword has failed,’ said Eithne, bringing the king to meet Brí,
the druid who had prophesised her greatness.
When they asked for his
help to defeat the Ossory army, the druid mixed up a brew of leaves and herbs,
before swallowing it and going into a deep trance. Eithne and the king waited
until he snapped out of it.
Finally opening his
eyes, Brí said, ‘The battle shall be lost in the morning by the side that first
spills their enemy’s blood.’
‘So, we have to make
sure that one of our warriors gets wounded first?’ the king, said to Eithne.
She nodded.
‘I can tell one of my
men to walk into the ranks of the enemy and not defend himself,’ suggested the king.
‘That might work,’ said
Eithne, ‘but can we know for sure that he won’t lift his blade to defend
himself? When faced with death, a man’s instinct is to survive.’
The king agreed. ‘We
could send him without weapons.’
‘The enemy might grow suspicious,’
Eithne said, turning to her druid. ‘Is there another way?’
‘There is always another
way,’ said Brí.
The next morning, the
druid conjured up a powerful magic spell to turn one of the king of Munster’s
soldiers into a red cow. The animal was then sent into the enemy’s camp. As
soon as the Ossory soldiers saw it, they killed it, spilling the first blood of
the day.
‘Now you may attack,’
declared the druid.
The king of Munster’s
army charged and easily defeated their enemy.
The king, pleased to be
one step closer to marrying Eithne, said, ‘And what shall your second wish be?’
Eithne didn’t have to
think about this, for she’d had this wish her whole life. ‘All I’ve ever wanted
is land for my people and an end to their wandering. I wish for a home for the
Déise.’
After much consideration,
the king of Munster granted the Déise land which stretched from Inchinleama in
the West to Creadon Head in the East, and from the River Suir in the North to
the sea in the South. This territory would eventually be named Waterford, but
even today, the county is still widely known as the Déise county.
‘And what of your final
wish?’ the king asked Eithne.
‘That the Déise be declared a free people and that
our name live long in the minds of men.’
The king held his hand
out to his bride to be and nodded. ‘Your wish shall be granted.’
Eithne smiled and took
his hand. ‘Time will tell.’
Though Ireland would see
many changes over the next two millennia, including the arrival of
Christianity, the Vikings, the Normans and the English, you only have to attend
a Waterford hurling match and hear the crowd roar ‘Up the Déise!’ to know that
Eithne’s final wish came true. The spirit of the Déise lives on in County
Waterford.
