The King’s Favourite Bard.
In ancient times, there were various kings in Ireland who ruled over large areas of land. They were answerable and subject to the High King (Ard Rhi). At certain times the High King also had jurisdiction over much of Scotland.
His base was in Tara in County
Meath which is north of Dublin,
the Capital of Ireland. There was also a
seat of learning at the site and laws were made and enforced.
Because there was no written language at the time, basic history was
passed down the generations by Bards/Minstrels. There would be many at each court but as
with all else, someone was destined to become the ‘favourite’. They all could
sing, play music and recite stories of ancient battles and conquests.
The one I shall write about became known as the Minstrel Boy, and through his ability to remember all the great
past historical stories, play music and sing, he became the favourite of the High King. His renown spread throughout the entire
kingdom and for a young man of nineteen, everyone believed him to be
ancient.
He was delicate in nature, small in stature with long blonde hair. Because of his health he never went hunting
with the other prominent men of the court, but remained within the castle walls
practicing his music. For those obvious
reasons he never learned the art of war (of
which there were many at that time) and was forbidden by the king from even
practicing weaponry.
His father had been a great warrior who had fought for the High King on
many occasions and his son longed for his abilities. Although his father had been killed in
battle some five years earlier, his son wished that he too could take to the
battle field instead of playing his music, reciting his poems and telling his
stories. His mother tried to convince
him that what he was doing was as worthwhile as any great deed performed in
war.
When the boy was approaching his twentieth birthday, news arrived at the
court that one of the lower kings from the Northern part of the kingdom was
rebelling which resulted in a battle royal.
Further sadder news came that the High King had in fact been badly
injured and unlikely to survive.
All available men were roused and set to join in the fight but once
again the Minstrel was refused permission.
However, during the confusion of the preparations, he managed to hide
his father’s sword under his cloak and with his harp he informed the commander
that he would walk some way with them singing rousing songs and playing his harp. He was granted permission to leave the
castle.
The Minstrel managed to break away from the marching troops and followed
at some distance. After two days they
arrived at the scene of the battle. He
did not hesitate but immediately joined it swinging his father’s sword. His harp was hanging on his shoulders.
He proved totally inept at fighting and was quickly badly injured. One of the members of the opposite army took
his sword and another tried to take his harp.
The Minstrel held firm and began to sing to the astonishment of the
opposing soldiers.
Not long afterwards, the Minstrel Boy lay dead on the battlefield with
his harp broken in several pieces. In
his dying moments he broke it so that no one else could use it to their
advantage.
There is an excellent version of the song by John McDermott on YouTube
on this link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ssHxZABrpE
The Minstrel Boy
Thomas Moore 1779 -
1852
The minstrel boy
to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!
The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!
-----Mike----
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