The Cattle Raid of Cooley (Táin Bó Cúailnge)

In the days when Ireland was divided into five kingdoms, there arose a quarrel between Queen Medb of Connacht and her husband, King Ailill, that would lead to the greatest war ever fought on Irish soil.

It began one evening as they lay in their royal bed, debating whose possessions were more valuable. Each claimed to be wealthier than the other, and to settle the matter, they decided to have all their treasures counted and compared.

The next morning, servants brought forth their riches piece by piece. They had equal numbers of golden ornaments, silver cups, fine clothing, and precious jewels. Their flocks of sheep were equal in number, as were their herds of pigs and horses. But when it came to cattle, King Ailill had one magnificent bull that Queen Medb could not match – the White-Horned Bull of Connacht, Finnbennach.

“You may have wealth,” said Ailill with a satisfied smile, “but you have no bull to equal mine.”

Queen Medb’s pride was wounded deeply. She was accustomed to being the equal of any man, and the thought that her husband possessed something she could not match filled her with rage.

“Is there no bull in all of Ireland that could equal yours?” she demanded of her advisors.

“There is one, Your Majesty,” replied her chief druid carefully. “In Ulster, in the territory of Cooley, there lives a bull called Donn Cúailnge – the Brown Bull of Cooley. It is said to be the finest bull in all the land, even greater than your husband’s White-Horned Bull.”

Queen Medb’s eyes gleamed with determination. “Then I must have this bull. Send messengers to Ulster immediately. Offer its owner whatever price he asks.”

The messengers rode swiftly to Ulster and found Dáire mac Fiachna, the owner of the Brown Bull. They offered him fifty of the finest heifers in Connacht, a chariot worth three times seven bondmaids, and the friendship of Queen Medb herself if he would lend them the bull for one year.

Dáire was pleased with the generous offer and agreed to the bargain. The messengers were given a feast to celebrate the agreement, but as the ale flowed freely, their tongues loosened, and they began to boast.

“It’s fortunate that Dáire agreed to our terms,” said one messenger drunkenly, “for if he had refused, Queen Medb would have taken the bull by force anyway!”

When Dáire heard these words, his anger blazed like fire. “So they think they can threaten me in my own hall! Tell your queen that she shall not have my bull by gift or by theft. Let her come and take it if she can!”

The messengers returned to Queen Medb with empty hands and heavy hearts. When they told her of Dáire’s refusal, her fury was terrible to behold.

“If he will not give me the bull willingly,” she declared, “then I shall take it by force. Gather the armies of Connacht! We march to war!”

But Queen Medb was not content to rely only on her own forces. She called upon her allies from all across Ireland – warriors from Munster, Leinster, and exiled men of Ulster who had quarrels with their own king. Soon the greatest army ever assembled in Ireland was gathered on the plains of Connacht.

There was, however, one significant problem. The men of Ulster lay under an ancient curse placed upon them by the goddess Macha. Because of a wrong done to her long ago, all the warriors of Ulster would be struck with weakness in their time of greatest need, suffering pains as severe as a woman in childbirth for five days and four nights.

As Queen Medb’s vast army crossed the border into Ulster, this curse fell upon the Ulster warriors, leaving them helpless and defenseless. All, that is, except one.

Cú Chulainn, the young Hound of Ulster, was not yet seventeen years old, but he was already the greatest warrior in the land. Because of his divine parentage – his father was the god Lugh of the Long Arm – the curse of Macha had no power over him.

When Cú Chulainn saw the enormous army advancing into Ulster, his heart filled with righteous anger. Standing alone at the ford of the River Dee, he challenged the entire army of Connacht to single combat.

“I am Cú Chulainn, son of Sualtam, pupil of Scáthach the warrior-woman, Hound of Ulster and defender of the Táin! I challenge your bravest warrior to meet me in fair combat. But know this – while I live, no enemy shall pass this ford!”

Queen Medb looked upon this lone youth standing against her vast army and laughed. “Send forward our champion, Fraech,” she commanded. “Let us see how long this boy’s courage lasts.”

Fraech was a hero renowned throughout Ireland for his strength and skill, but when he faced Cú Chulainn in combat, the young Ulster warrior defeated him after a fierce battle. The next day, another champion came forward, and Cú Chulainn defeated him as well.

Day after day, the greatest warriors of Connacht faced the young hero, and day after day, he sent them to their deaths. But the strain was beginning to tell on Cú Chulainn. He was wounded in dozens of places, and his strength was being sapped by constant fighting.

It was then that his divine heritage manifested in a terrifying way. When his battle-fury came upon him, Cú Chulainn would undergo a transformation so horrible that even his allies feared to look upon him. His body would contort, his hair would stand on end like spears, and one eye would sink deep into his head while the other would bulge out. This was the ríastrad, the warp-spasm, and when it seized him, Cú Chulainn became a force of destruction that no mortal warrior could face.

Meanwhile, Queen Medb grew increasingly frustrated with the delay. While her champions fought and died against Cú Chulainn, she sent raiding parties around the young hero’s position to steal cattle and plunder the defenseless countryside. Eventually, a group of her warriors managed to locate the Brown Bull of Cooley and drive it away toward Connacht.

But Cú Chulainn’s foster-father, Fergus mac Róich, who was fighting with Queen Medb’s army due to his exile from Ulster, warned the queen that her troubles were far from over.

“You have awakened something terrible,” he told her. “Cú Chulainn will not rest while Ulster is under attack. And soon the curse will lift from the other Ulster warriors. When they awaken and see what has been done to their land, their fury will be beyond imagining.”

Fergus spoke truly. On the fourth day, the curse of Macha began to lift from the men of Ulster. King Conchobor mac Nessa rose from his bed of pain, and with him rose all the warriors of Ulster – men like Conall Cernach the Victorious, Lóegaire the Triumphant, and many other heroes whose names were sung in every hall in Ireland.

The final battle was fought on the plain of Garech. The army of Ulster, refreshed and furious at the invasion of their homeland, fell upon Queen Medb’s forces like a thunderbolt. The fighting was fierce and terrible, with heroes on both sides performing deeds that would be remembered forever.

Cú Chulainn, despite his exhaustion and wounds, fought with superhuman fury. In the space of one day, it is said that he slew one hundred and thirty kings, not counting the common soldiers who fell to his weapons.

But the most important battle was not between warriors at all. When the Brown Bull of Cooley saw the White-Horned Bull of Connacht, the two great beasts fought each other with a fury that matched that of the human armies. They battled across the length and breadth of Ireland, their hoofprints creating lakes and their breath forming mists that covered whole counties.

In the end, the Brown Bull emerged victorious, but at a terrible cost. Both magnificent animals died from their wounds, and with them died the reason for the entire war.

Queen Medb, seeing her army defeated and her prize lost, called for a retreat. The surviving warriors of Connacht limped home, carrying tales of the young hero who had held an entire army at bay and of the futility of wars fought for pride alone.

Cú Chulainn returned to his home in Ulster, where he was welcomed as the greatest hero in Irish history. But the victory had come at a great cost. Many brave warriors on both sides had died, the countryside was devastated, and the friendship between the kingdoms was shattered.

In years to come, when bards sang of the Táin Bó Cúailnge, they would tell not just of Cú Chulainn’s heroism, but also of the lesson learned from Queen Medb’s pride. They would remind their listeners that wars fought for vanity and jealousy bring nothing but sorrow, and that the greatest victories are often the ones that come at the highest price.

The story of the Cattle Raid of Cooley became the greatest epic in Irish literature, preserved in manuscripts and passed down through generations of storytellers. It reminds us that while courage and honor are virtues to be celebrated, wisdom and humility are perhaps even more important, for they can prevent the terrible conflicts that pride and jealousy inevitably bring.

And though Queen Medb never achieved her goal of possessing the Brown Bull, her name lives on in legend – not as a conqueror, but as a reminder that some prices are too high to pay, and some victories not worth winning.