How Ireland got it's name
Roony clasps his hands together and rubs them in the traditional
sign of the shaunachie (storyteller) that a story is about to begin.
In the ancient times it was, this being the time of the Tuatha de Danaans.
And we'd all be knowin' that the kings and the
chieftains had their foin, clan gatherings. At this particular time
there were three kings, Eathur, Teathur and Ceathur. They were, each
having a bonny, wee wife. Their names were
Banba, Fodhla, and Eire.
It was a time of peace and prosperity in the land. One hundred
Ninety-Seven years passed without a war. The clan gatherings
were peaceful affairs. So tame, it was, that even very good friends didn't
argue. Not much for the story tellin', for we are not rememberin'
the gatherings from the long peace.
The father of the three kings, was host of this particular
gathering. "I'm wantin' to have a grand time this year," he
thought. "A contest would liven the Gathering up."
Ye'd not be knowing about the old man, ye say? Well, that's another
story for another time.
When all the chieftains and captains and their families arrived,
he announced that a name was needed for the green island they resided upon.
"It would be verrry nice," he said, "if the island were named
after one of the queens of the island."
The announcement was greeted with a murmur of agreement, for the
people were verrry peaceful and cooperative. They began to consider
which was the most elegant, the most gracious, the most benevolent
of the three women and which should have the honor. Thus began the week,
with each one wantin' their own favorite. The old man
was pleased and he thought The Gathering was already seemin' better.
Each queen set out to prove she was the worthiest one. For the entire
week of the Gathering, never once, did they lose their temper nor were
they heard to say an unkind word. When they went out, their silks
and hair were beautiful and they wore foin gold. The eyes of the
common people were dazzled at the sight, and they wondered how
one could be chosen over the other, for they each seemed to glow
in their own worthiness.
But, you see, the old man was verrry wily and clever. The last
evening before the announcement, he visited each queen separately,
in her private quarters.
"Ach!" he said, "It is YOU that are my favorite queen. I want it to
be you the land will be named for, dear lass." Each queen, smiled
ever so sweetly, when they heard the old man speak, perceiving
she would be the one chosen. "So," the old man continued. "I will
tell you how the name will be decided. Every morning the three of
you go for a walk. Tomorrow, after you leave, I will announce to the
assembly that the first queen who enters back through the gate of the
Dun will win. If it happens to be you, my lass, the island
will be known forever by your name. It is a verrry great honor."
The next morning, the queens prepared for their walk. Each one
wearing their very finest dress and all the gold they owned.
They walked leisurely, so their elegance could be seen. Out they
glided, ever so serenely, through the gate of the town.
The people were told of the contest, and went to the ramparts
of the Dun to watch the progress of the three queens. Many a comment
was heard about the grace and beauty of the three women.
Very lady like, they were, as they walked out to the turning point.
They turned, leisurely and elegant, for they knew they were
being watched. They began the journey back to the Dun.
Banba was the first to pick up the pace and went out in front. Fodhla
and Eire quickened their own steps. Fodlha took the lead,
and the others quickened the pace, again. Unable to keep up at a
walk Eire broke into a jog, kicking off her sandals. The others
did the same. Encumbered by her skirt, Banba picked up the hem and
flung it over her shoulder. The other queens followed suit. They neared
the Dun at a flat out run, leaning forward in the effort, they were,
so they could inch out ahead of the others.
On the ramparts the people were beside themselves with
amusement. Some were laughin' so hard they could scarcely stand.
When the two queens behind grabbed the leader and pulled
her back, the watchers slapped their thighs and
tears of mirth ran down many a cheek.
When they were near the gate, their hair was flying
and fion cloths disheveled. Did I mention that it had been a
soft evening the night before, meanin' it had been raining?
Well, it had, and the entry to the Dun had been trod into mud.
Through the slop the three queens ran, splattering
the lovely silks and faces.
Ach, what a sight it was, never to be forgotten by anyone there,
and a laugh it would always bring in the re-tellin'.
Now, ye'd all know who the winner was. The beautiful, elegant
and verry ladylike, Queen Eire was the first through the gate.
True to his word, the old man bestowed the name of Eire
on the island, by which it is still known today.
So you see, a worthy queen, it was, our bonny land was
named after, and one who brought joy and laughter, as well.
Whether she enjoyed the laugh, herself, we'd not be knowin'
Roony, sits back down to consider what his next lesson
of true history of Ireland, will be.
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