Wars of the Irish Kings (23 page)

However, now, they continued in battle array, and fighting from sunrise to evening. This is the same length of time as that which the tide takes to go, and to flood, and to fill. For it was at the full tide the foreigners came out to fight the battle in the morning, and the tide had come to the same place again at the close of the day, when the foreigners were defeated; and the tide had carried away their ships from them, so that they had not at the last any place to fly to, but into the sea; after the mail-coated foreigners had been all killed by the Dal Cais. An awful rout was made of the foreigners, and of the Laighin, so that they fled simultaneously; and they shouted their cries for mercy, and whoops of rout, and retreat, and running; but they could only fly to the sea, because they had no other place to retreat to, seeing they were cut off between it and the head of Dubhgall’s Bridge; and they were cut off between it and the wood on the other side. They retreated therefore to the sea, like a herd of cows in heat, from sun, and from gadflies, and from insects; and they were pursued closely, rapidly, and lightly; and the foreigners were drowned in great numbers in the sea, and they lay in heaps and in hundreds, confounded, after parting with their bodily senses and understandings, under the powerful, stout, belabouring; and under the tremendous, hard-hearted pressure, with which the Dal Cais, and the men of Conacht, and as many as were also there of the nobles of Erinn, pursued them.

It was then that Tordhelbhach, the son of Murchadh, son of Brian, went after the foreigners into the sea, when the rushing tide wave struck him a blow against the weir of Cluain-Tarbh [Clontarf] and so was he
drowned, with a foreigner under him, and a foreigner in his right hand, and a foreigner in his left, and a stake of the weir through him. There was not of his age a person of greater generosity or munificence than he in Erinn; and there was not a more promising heir of the kingdom. For he inherited the munificence of his father, and the royal dignity of his grandfather; and he had not completed more than fifteen years at that time. He was also one of the three men who had killed most on that day.

Then it was that Brian’s daughter, namely, the wife of Amhlaibh’s son said, “It appears to me,” said she, “that the foreigners have gained their inheritance.” “What meanest thou, O woman?” said Amhlaibh’s son. “The foreigners are going into the sea, their natural inheritance,” said she; “I wonder is it heat that is upon them; but they tarry not to be milked, if it is.” The son of Amhlaibh became angered and he gave her a blow.

To return, however, to Murchadh, son of Brian. When he had passed through the battalions of the foreigners, accompanied by the champions of the Dál Cais, as we have said before, there was a party of soldiers of the foreigners still before him, who had not rushed into the sea as yet, who retained their senses and their memories, and who preferred enduring any amount of suffering rather than be drowned. It was then that Murchadh perceived Siucraid [Earl of Orkney], son of Lotar, Earl of Insi Ore, in the midst of the battalion of the Dál Cais, slaughtering and mutilating them; and his fury among them was that of a robber upon a plain; and neither pointed nor any kind of edged weapon could harm him; and there was no strength that yielded not, nor thickness that became not thin. Then Murchadh made a violent rush at him, and dealt him a fierce, powerful, crushing blow from the valiant, death-dealing, active right hand, in the direction of his neck, and the fastenings of the foreign hateful helmet that was on his head, so that he cut the buttons, and the fastenings, and the clasps, and the buckles that were fastening the helmet; and he brought the sword of the graceful left hand to hew and maim him after the helmet had fallen backwards from him; and he cut his neck, and felled that brave hero with two tremendous, well-aimed blows, in that manner.

Then came the heroic, valiant, noble, renowned warrior, the son of Ebric, son of the king of Lochlann, into the bosom and centre of the Dál Cais, and it was the clear stage of a warrior, and the breach of a hero was opened for him wherever he went; and he trampled to a litter one end of the battalion, dealing in all directions fierce, barbarous strokes, and victorious
irresistible blows. Murchadh perceived this, and it was a heartache to him, and he turned obliquely upon the battalions of the mailed-men, and killed fifteen foreigners on his right, and fifteen on his left, who were mail-clad, until he reached [the son of] Elbric [Ebric], the son of the king of Lochlainn [Lochlann], for he was the head of valour and bravery of the army of Lochlainn, and of all the foreigners also. And they fought a stout, furious, bloody, crimson combat, and a fierce, vehement, rough, boisterous, implacable battle. And the sword of Murchadh at that time was inlaid with ornament, and the inlaying that was in it melted with the excessive heat of the striking, and the burning sword cleft his hand, tearing the fork of his fist. He perceived that, and cast the sword from him, and he laid hold of the top of the foreigner’s head, and pulled his coat of mail over his head forward, and they then fought a wrestling combat.

Then Murchadh put the foreigner down under him, by the force of wrestling, and then he caught the foreigner’s own sword and thrust it into the ribs of the foreigner’s breast, until it reached the ground through him, three times. The foreigner then drew his knife, and with it gave Murchadh such a cut, that the whole of his entrails were cut out, and they fell to the ground before him. Then did shiverings and faintings descend on Murchadh, and he had not power to move, so that they fell by each other there, the foreigner and Murchadh. But at the same time Murchadh cut off the foreigner’s head. And Murchadh did not die that night, nor until sunrise the next day; until he had received absolution, and communion, and penance, and until he had taken the Body of Christ, and until he had made his confession and his will.

Let us speak now of the adventures of Brian, son of Cenneidigh, during this time. When the forces met in combat, his cushion was spread under him, and he opened his psalter; and he began to clasp his hands and to pray after the battle had commenced; and there was no one with him but his own attendant, whose name was Latean. Brian said to the attendant, watch thou the battles and the combats, whilst I sing the psalms. He sang fifty psalms, and fifty prayers, and fifty paternosters, and he asked the attendant after that what the condition of the battalions was. The attendant answered and said, “Mixed and closely confounded are the battalions, and each of them has come within the grasp of the other; and not louder in my ears would be the echoes of blows from Tomar’s Wood, if seven battalions were cutting it down, than are the resounding blows
upon heads, and bones, and skulls, on both sides.” Then he asked what was the condition of Murchadh’s standard; and the attendant said—“It is standing, and many of the banners of the Dál Cais are around it; and many heads are falling around it, and a multitude of trophies, and spoils, with heads of the foreigners are along with it.” That is good news, indeed, said Brian.

His cushion was readjusted under him, and he sang the psalms, and the prayers, and the paters, in the same manner as before. And he asked of the attendant, again, what the condition of the battalions was; and the attendant answered and said—“There is not living on earth one who could distinguish one of them from the other. For, the greater part of the hosts at either side are fallen, and those who are alive are so covered with spatterings of the crimson blood, head, body, and vesture, that a father could not know his son from any other of them, so confounded are they.”

He then asked what was the condition of Murchadh’s standard. The attendant said that it was far from him, and that it passed through the battalions, westwards, and was still standing. Brian said, “The men of Erinn shall be well while that standard remains standing, because their courage and valour shall remain in them all, as long as they can see that standard.”

His cushion was readjusted under Brian, and he sang fifty psalms, and fifty prayers, and fifty paters; and the fighting continued all that time. He asked then of the attendant, in what state were the forces? The attendant answered—“They appear to me the same as if Tomar’s Wood was on fire, and the seven battalions had been cutting away its underwood [and its young shoots], for a month, leaving its stately trees and its immense oaks standing. In such manner are the armies on either side, after the greater part of them have fallen, leaving a few brave men and gallant heroes only standing. Their further condition is, they are wounded, and pierced through, and dismembered; and they are disorganized all round like the grindings of a mill turning the wrong way, and the foreigners are now defeated, and Murchadh’s standard has fallen.”

“That is sad news,” said Brian; “on my word,” said he, “the honour and valour of Erinn fell when that standard fell; and Erinn has fallen now, indeed; and never shall there appear henceforth a champion comparable to or like to that champion. And what avails it me to survive this, or that I should obtain the sovereignty of the world, after the fall of Murchadh, and Conaing, and the other nobles of the Dál Cais, in like manner.” “Woe is me,” said the attendant, “if thou wouldst take my advice, thou wouldst mount thy horse, and we would go the camp, and remain there amongst the servants; and every one who escapes this battle will come unto us, and around us will they all rally. Besides, the battalions are now mixed together
in confusion; and a party of the foreigners have rejected the idea of retreating to the sea; and we know not who may approach us where we now are.”

“Oh God! thou boy,” said Brian, “retreat becomes us not, and I myself know that I shall not leave this place alive; and what would it profit me if I did. For, Aibhell, of Craig Liath [goddess who was Brian’s protector], came to me last night,” said he, “and she told me that I should be killed this day; and she said to me that the first of my sons I should see this day would be he who should succeed me in the sovereignty; and that is Donnchadh [his youngest son, who was fighting in Leinster], and go thou, Laidean,” said he, “and take these steeds with thee, and receive my blessing; and carry out my will after me, viz., my body and my soul to God and to Saint Patrick, and that I am to be carried to Ard-macha,; and my blessing to Donnchadh, for discharging my last bequests after me, viz., twelve score cows to be given to the Comharba of Patrick, and the Society of Ard-macha; and its own proper dues to Cill da Lua, and the churches of Mumhain; and he knows that I have not wealth of gold or silver, but he is to pay them in return for my blessing, and for his succeeding me. Go this night to Sord, and desire them to come to-morrow, early, for my body, and to convey it from thence to Damhliag, of Cianan; and then let them carry it to Lughmhagh; and let Maelmuire Mac Eochadha, the Comharba of Patrick, and the Society of Ard-macha come to meet me at Lughmhagh.”

While they were engaged in this conversation the attendant perceived a party of the foreigners approaching them. The Earl Brodar was there, and two warriors along with him. “There are people coming towards us here,” said the attendant. “Woe is me, what manner of people are they?” said Brian. “A blue stark naked people,” said the attendant. “Alas!” said Brian, “they are the foreigners of the armour, and it is not to do good to thee they come.” While he was saying this, he arose and stepped off the cushion, and unsheathed his sword. Brodar passed him by and noticed him not. One of the three who were there, and who had been in Brian’s service, said—“Cing, Cing,” said he, “this is the king.” “No, no, but Priest, Priest,” said Brodar, “it is not he,” says he, “but a noble priest.” “By no means,” said the soldier, “that is the great king, Brian.” Brodar then turned round, and appeared with a bright, gleaming, trusty battle-axe in his hand, with the handle set in the middle of it. When Brian saw him he gazed at him, and gave him a stroke with his sword, and cut off
his left leg at the knee, and his right leg at the foot. The foreigner dealt Brian a stroke which cleft his head utterly; and Brian killed the second man that was with Brodar, and they fell both mutually by each other ….

However, that illustrious, all-victorious king, fell by the foreigners, in the eighty-eighth year of his age, and in the thirty-eighth year of his reign, in Mumhain; and in his twelfth year in the chief sovereignty of Erinn. In short, Erinn fell by the death of Brian; and the predictions came to pass, and the prophecies were fulfilled to Erinn, according to the saints and the righteous ones, as Berchan said—

Two-thirds of the dignity and valour of the champions of Erinn fled on hearing this news. Two-thirds of the purity and devotion of the clerics of Erinn vanished at that news. Their modesty and chastity departed from the women of Erinn at the same news, as Bec Mac De said:

Two-thirds of their milk also departed from quadrupeds at that news.

Moreover, there were killed in that battle together the greater part of the men of valour of the Gaill and the Gaedhil, of all the west of Europe. There was killed there, Brodar, son of Osli, Earl of Caer Ebroc, and along with him were killed a thousand plundering Danars, both Saxons and
Lochlanns. There was killed there Sitriuc, the son of Ladar, Earl of Innsi Ore. There were killed there two thousand of the foreigners of Ath Cliath, with Dubhghall, son of Amhlaibh, and with Gilla Ciarain, son of Gluniarann, and with Donnchadh O’hEruilbh, and with Amhlaibh, son of Laghman, and with Ernal Scot.