In the middle of the 10th century, when King Elgar ruled in Ireland and Ivor, the Archbishop from Norway, had his episcopal see in Armagh, the country vas threatened by great disaster. A dragon, who had assuredly been spewn out by the jaws of hell, ravaged the whole island. The animal was dreadful to see. Its body was stronger than the most towering oak in the ancient forest of Limerick. Its scales forming an impenetrable armor shimmered uncannily either in emerald green or fiery red. Underneath the sharp horns on its head, bloodthirsty' eyes were gleaming. The terrifying jaws, which were studded with a threefold row of fangs, incessantly spewed out poison.
Nothing could stop the monster: Not the Basaltic mountains with their steep inclines, and not even the bay of the ocean with its violently surging waves. Wherever the monster came, it left behind nothing but ruins. The fields over which its heavy body had rolled remained barren for all time. When the monster moved across wide meadows to attack grazing horses and cattle, it seemed as if blazing flames had scorched the grass. The water of the rivers from which the dragon used to drink emitted a pestilential odor. The same odor poisoning the country-side came out of the forests in which the dragon was wont to sleep.
Nothing could stop the monster: Not the Basaltic mountains with their steep inclines, and not even the bay of the ocean with its violently surging waves. Wherever the monster came, it left behind nothing but ruins. The fields over which its heavy body had rolled remained barren for all time. When the monster moved across wide meadows to attack grazing horses and cattle, it seemed as if blazing flames had scorched the grass. The water of the rivers from which the dragon used to drink emitted a pestilential odor. The same odor poisoning the country-side came out of the forests in which the dragon was wont to sleep.
At first the dragon contented itself with killing animals. But now it began, when dusk set in, to rove around towns and lie in ambush waiting for men who were late getting hone. Women who went to the shore with their washing and children returning home were slain by the hundreds. No one ventured any more to leave his house. In wealthy towns as well as in poor villages, the terrified inhabitants gave their souls into God's keeping.
Finally, after the King had held a counsel with the Archbishop, it was decided to declare war on the monster. Ivor, the Bishop, commanded that everyone should fast for three days. Then, after the most valiant soldiers of Armagh had been assembled, the attack was set for the feast day of St. Patrick. The beast was one mile away from the town in a barren heath without trees. This was favorable for the struggle and it was decided to surround it from all sides. The fighters advanced early in the morning, armed with spears, swords, and poisoned arrows. Before them, amidst the undulating crosses and banners, the relics of Irish Saints were carried. But, despite their faith and valor, all trembled as if going to their execution. Here was the monster! How the souls of the fighters were split! Should they dare to attack the dragon, or would it be better to flee? But goon their faith in God reasserted itself. Amidst fearful shouting, they hurled their spears and Lances against the monster. It lay there without moving, as if asleep. Or was it already dead? The most valiant men advanced towards the beast to pierce it with their swords. But - what a miracle - it was dead. Out of a small wound, which could not have been caused by the weapons of the Irish, a black blood stream was welling forth. Thereupon the whole multitude, shouting imprecations, rushed up to the corpse and tore it to pieces. Then they fetched fagots and dry grass, made a fire, and burned the monster so that nothing remained behind but a pile of ashes.
Suddenly the Archbishop discovered amidst the ashes a sword and shield different from those used by warriors. The weapons looked like a child's toy. A round shield with strong leather girths and golden clasps had many small crosses on the surface, which was overlaid with a profusion of amethysts and topazes. Then there was a sword of finest steel, whose point was still stained with the monster's blood. The Archbishop kneeled down before these weapons, raised them up, and had them carried ceremoniously into the Cathedral of Armagh, where the people intoned the Te Deum.
One thing was certain: God had performed a miracle to save the holy island. But who could have been the heavenly messenger who had hurled, with such dainty weapons, the deadly thrust against the dragon? -- When the Archbishop, after praying ardently, had fallen asleep, the Archangel Michael appeared unto him and commanded that the weapons, with which he had defeated the monster, should be brought at once to the place holding Michael's favorite sanctuary on earth. But before the Archbishop could ask the leader of the Heavenly Hosts after the name of this place, Michael had vanished. Then did the Archbishop appoint two priests who were to go forth with the weapons and, God willing, try to find the place favored by St. Michael. The priests sailed across the sea to England. Then, after crossing another sea and landing in France, they directed their steps to Italy. For they believed that Mount Gargano, where Michael was worshipped, was bound to be the goal of their journey. Thus they wandered onward and believed to be going toward the South. But finally they noticed that, against their will, they went continuously Westward. Whichever path they chose, the sun was ever setting before their eyes. Then they saw clearly that Mount Gargano vas not the place that had been in Michael's mind. And they prayed unto St. Michael that he might take pity on them. For they did not know where to turn and their feet were sore. Once, when they were dead tired and completely despondent, fearing the anger of the Irish and the reproaches of the Bishop, they implored God most fervently to help them. Then appeared Michael unto them, saying: "Direct your steps to Mount Tumbe; there is my real abode."
A pious hermit gave them shelter during the night and showed them the way. And, thirty days later, they arrived at the mountain around which the waves were surging. Their heart was stirred as they knocked at the monastery's gate. The Abbot himself opened the gate with these words: "I have awaited your coming, dear brethren! Last night the cause of your pilgrimage was revealed to me in a dream. I know whence ye come after such long wandering. Hand to me the glorious weapons and then let us praise God!"
From that day on, the weapons reposed in the monastery's treasure house, where they were worshipped by pious pilgrims during five centuries.
