Tara'S Hall
In the year A.D. 544 the ancient hall of Tara saw for the last time the kings and nobles of Ireland assembled within its walls.
For many centuries the Triennial Councils of the nation of Ireland had been held there, and the cause of the desertion of the time-honored seat of legislation shows to what an enormous height the ecclesiastical power had risen.
A criminal, who had fled to the sanctuary of the monastery of St. Ruan, was forcibly dragged thence to Tara's Hall, and put to death. The holy abbot and his monks cried aloud against the sacrilegious violation; and, proceeding in solemn procession to the palace, they pronounced a curse upon its walls. "From that day," says the annalist, "no king ever again sat at Tara."
A striking memorial of the Church's triumph on this occasion was preserved in the name of distinction given to the monastery, which was ever after, in memory of this malediction, called "The Monastery of the Curses of Ireland."
Thomas Moore, the famous Irish poet (1779-1852), in one of his "Irish melodies," alludes to it thus:--
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er,
And hearts, that once beat high for praise,
Now feel that pulse no more.
The harp of Tara swells:
The chord alone, that breaks at night,
Its tale of ruin tells.
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,
The only throb she gives,
Is when some heart indignant breaks,
To show that still she lives."