Irish Mythology and Folklore

The Harp of Dagda (~1880 BC)

It had been several years since the second battle of Moy Tura, and Nuada of the Silver arm had finally passed. For even gods cannot, in the end, escape death. And the role of King was passed on to Dagda Mór, the great hero of the two wars. The King stone once again roared from Tara the day he was crowned. And a fine King he was. In his possession, Dagda had several great artifices, brought with the Tuatha from the cities of knowledge. A club, which could kill nine men in a single swing. A tree, with branches always sagging with fruit. Two pigs, one of which regrew and fattened which the other was roasting. A cauldron, from which no man could walk away unsatisfied, or unhealed, and a magical harp.

Of these items, the harp was the most valuable and revered. With its song, Dagda put the seasons in their place. He could call armies to his aid with just a simple melody. This harp, was given to him by the old gods, when the Tuatha lived in the north of the world. It was carved by Maponos, the old god of music, from the branches of the first great oak tree, inlays with gold and jewels, and it's strings were pulled from the wind itself.

It so happened that during the second battle of Moy Tura, the Fomorians heard the enchanting sound of the harp as Dagda rallied the Tuatha, and, when the battle had commenced, a Fomorian chief snuck into Dagda's home, and stole the harp, fleeing from the scene as fast as his legs could carry him. As he ran, and saw that his people were being slaughtered, he began to play the harp, and a large portion of the Fomorian army followed him from the battlefield, and coincidentally were saved from Balor's gaze. As the remaining Fomorians gathered in their fortress around the harp, and by its magic the wounds were healed.

The Tuatha Dé Danann, fresh from their victory against the Fomorians, called to Dagda to play for them a ballad that such a victory deserved. And Dagda went to find his harp, only to discover it was gone. For many years, Dagda searched for his harp, and, one day, he discovered its whereabouts. He looked to his great heroes, and asked who would aid him in retrieving this artefact. Of course, leader of his army, Lugh, stepped forward. As did Ogma (Og-ma), the creator of the first runes. And so, the three warriors set forth to steal back the magic harp.

The three stopped outside the large, gloomy tower of the Fomorians. "And how shall we attempt to retrieve this harp, my lord?" Lugh asked, as he surveyed the fortress.

In response, Dagda stood tall, and screamed at the tower, "Come to me, my four angled music!" There was a great raucous from inside the castle. The inhabitants screamed and yelled, and there was a great crashing. Then, the harp itself flew through the stone walls of the fortress, covered in rubble and blood, and floated down to Dagda's hands. But the Fomorians were not far behind. Seven of their own had been killed in the harps journey, and they were not willing to so easily let go of their war spoils. Soon, the three great warriors were surrounded.

"It is time," mused Ogma, "For some music." Dagda agreed, and his fingered ran against the strings of wind, playing a merry, fast paced and uplifting tune. All around them, the Fomorians began to laugh, and to bound, and to dance. They were so caught up in their revelries that their weapons dropped from their shaking hands and fell upon the earth. But when the song stopped, the Fomorians simply picked up their weapons, and once again began to advance on the heroes.

"It is time," Lugh said quickly, "For some music!" Dagda played his harp again, a sad, sorrowful, and mourning song. The Formorians fell to the ground, their heads in their hands, weeping for all of those they had lost in the two battles of Moy Tura. But when the song stopped, the Fomorians once again picked up their weapons, and began to advance on the three heroes.

"It is time," Dagda decided, "For one last song." And so he began to play. It was a sweet, soft melody, and all around them, the Fomorian armies began to lay down in the lush grass, curl up, and fall asleep. And when the song had ended, not a single inhabitant of the fortress was strong enough to resist the harps spell, and all of the Fomorians lay asleep before the heroes.

Lugh and Ogma followed Dagda back to his castle as he played beautiful, joyful songs now that he was reunited with his harp. From then on, no one ever tried to steal Dagda's harp ever again...