Wars of the Irish Kings (24 page)
Read Wars of the Irish Kings Online
Authors: David W. McCullough
There were killed there, too, Oitir the black, and Grisin, and Luiminin, and Siogradh, the four leaders of the foreigners, and the four commanders of fleets. There fell there, too, Carlus, and Ciarlus, the two sons of the king of Lochlainn, and Goistilin Gall, and Amond, son of Duibhghin, the two kings of Port Lairge, and Simond, son of Turgeis, and Sefraid, son of Suinin, and Bernard, son of Suainin; and Eoin, the Baron, and Rickard, the two sons of the Inghen Ruaidh; and Oisill, and Raghnall, the two sons of Imhar, grandson of Imhar. It was the natural right of Brian that these should fall with him, for it was by Mathgamhain, and by Brian, in defence of their country and inheritance, that all the fathers of these were slain.
The son of Amhlaibh himself, king of Ath Cliath, went not into the battle on that day, and that was the reason why he was not killed, for no foreigner of any rank appeared in it who left it alive; and Ath Cliath would have been attacked on that day also, were it not for the son of Amhlaibh and the party he had with him. There fell there also Maelmordha, son of Murchadh, king of Laighin, and Brogarban, son of Conchobhar, king of Ui-Failghe and Domhnall, son of Ferghal, king of Fortuaith Laighen; and Dunlaing, son of Tuathal, king of Life, received a wound of which he died, and two thousand of the Lagenians along with them, and eleven hundred of the Ui-Ceinnselaigh. In a word, six hundred and three score hundreds was the total loss of the enemy’s side in this battle ….
There fell there Murhcadh, son of Brian, and Toirrdhelbhach, his son. There fell there Conaing, son of Donnchuan, son of Cenneidigh, the son of Brian’s brother, the wealthiest royal heir of Erinn. There fell there Eochaidh, son of Dunadhach, and Cuduiligh, son of Cenneidigh, and Niall O’Cuinn, the three rear-guards of Brian, and the greater part of the Dal Cais along with them. There fell there Domhnall, son of Diarmaid, king of Corco-Bhaiscinn; and Mothla, son of Faelan, king of the Desii; and the son of Anmchaidh, king of Ua Liathain; and Gebennach, son of Dubhagan, king of Fera-Muighe; and Dubhdabhorrenn, son of Domhnall, and Loingsech, son of Dunlaing, and Scannlan, son of Cathal, king of the Eoghanacht of Loch Lein; and Baedan, son of Muirchertach, king of Ciarraighe Luachra; and Maelruanaidh Ua hEidhin, king of Aidhne; and Tadhg Ua Cellaigh, king of Ui Maine; and Domhnall, son of Eimhin, and sixteen hundred of the nobles of Erinn along with them.
When all these nobles were killed on both sides, and after the foreigners were defeated, all the men of Mumhain collected to one place; and they stationed themselves and encamped on the Green of Ath Cliath. And each sought for his friends and his acquaintances; and they remained two days and nights awaiting the return of Donnchadh, son of Brian; and he arrived with a great prey at the hour of vespers on the night of Easter Sunday; for it was on the Friday before Easter the battle was fought, viz., the ninth of the kalends of May; and little Easter was in the summer of that year.
Brian was met, as he had directed; and he was taken to Ard-Macha, and Murchadh along with him; and Donnchadh paid in full their bequests, and fulfilled Brian’s will after him as he had himself directed.
Donnchadh brought with him a spoil of eight-and-twenty
oxen
, and they were all slaughtered on the Green of Ath Cliath; and the foreigners who were in Ath Cliath threatened to come out to give battle to Donnchadh and to such of the Dal Cais as were alive there, because it was great pain to them to have their cows killed in their presence. And a message came out from the son of Amhlaibh telling them to take an ox for every twenty, and to leave all the oxen behind except that number. Donnchadh said, “We have not been hitherto in the pay of the son of Imar, nor shall we be so in future; for it appears to us that our hostility to each other is now greater than ever;” and such of the oxen as were yet alive were then slaughtered in the sight of the foreigners of Ath Cliath; but the foreigners declined the battle from fear of Donnchadh and the Dal Cais.
On the next day they went to the field of battle and buried every one of their people that they were able to recognise, there; and they made sledges and biers for those of them who were alive although wounded; and they carried thirty of the nobles who were killed there to their territorial churches, wherever they were situated all over Erinn.
THE
NORMAN
INVASION
I
N
1155,
NEARLY A CENTURY
after his great-grandfather William “conquered” England, Henry II was given permission by the pope to invade Ireland. Pope Adrian IV, the only Englishman ever to wear the ring of St. Peter (a fact that has not gone uncommented upon down the centuries), decried the sad moral state that the island and the local church had fallen into since the days of glory after St. Patrick converted the pagans to Christianity in the fifth century. Henry, preoccupied by wars in France and unrest at home, chose not to get involved in any new conflicts. So Ireland—in effect—came to him in the person of Dermot MacMurrough (or Diarmait Mac Murchada), the deposed king of Leinster.
There are several versions of the story of how Dermot lost his throne. The romantic one—favored by those who like to find parallels between the conquest of Ireland and the Trojan War—says that his troubles began when he abducted the beautiful wife of Tiernan O’Rourke (or Tigernan Ua Ruaric), the king of Breifne. The more prosaic version simply has him running afoul of the powerful high king, Rory O’Connor (or Ruaidri Ua Conchobair). In any case, he fled Ireland in 1166 to ask Henry to help him win back his crown. The king refused but gave him permission to raise, or hire, mercenaries. Dermot headed for south Wales, where he promised his kingdom and his daughter to the earl of Pembroke (Richard de Clare, often called Strongbow), who eventually began to organize the local Welsh-Normans—the FitzStephens, the FitzGeralds, the FitzHenrys, the de Barrys, all blood relations of Rhys ap Tewdwr, of the royal house that would become the Tudors—into an invasion army. With their large warhorses and heavy armor, they probably looked a good deal like their Norman ancestors who defeated King Harold at Hastings in 1066.
Dermot slipped back into Ireland, and after a long wait the first invasion forces led by Robert FitzStephen landed on the coast between Waterford and Wexford in May 1169. Strongbow himself arrived a year later, and his marriage to Dermot’s daughter was said to have taken place
on a battlefield so fresh that the hem of the bride’s gown became stained with blood. The invaders soon held the land from Waterford to Dublin, and when Dermot died in 1171, Strongbow proclaimed himself king of Leinster.
All this may have been more than what Henry had in mind when he gave Dermot permission to hire mercenaries, although some historians have argued that the king’s show of displeasure was an act since his Welshmen had succeeded in winning Ireland without tapping into the royal treasury. In any case, Henry himself arrived in Cork with his army in October 1172 to reprimand those who had exceeded their authority and to accept both their fealty and the fealty of the defeated Irish kings. Only Rory O’Connor refused to join with the other kings in bowing before Henry, but he later made a separate peace, one that still recognized him as high king of all the lands in Ireland outside the English-controlled areas in Dublin, Leinster, and Munster.
Meeting between Dermot MacMurrough and Henry II, c. 1172.
BY GERALD OF WALES
The Welsh-Norman known as Gerald of Wales (or Geraldus Cambrensis, 1146-1223) failed in his efforts to become bishop of St. David’s in south Wales, but he did use his impressive family connections to produce a series of books—probably written to promote his candidacy for bishop—that form just about the best portrait we have of Ireland in the twelfth century. It is a highly prejudiced portrait (he doesn’t seem to have liked much about the place except its music and—sometimes—its landscape), but out of his extended visits to the island, he wrote
The Typography of Ireland
(1188) and soon after, perhaps the more important
, Conquest of Ireland [Expugnetio Hibernica].
As a member of the de Barry family and a great-grandson of Rhys ap Tewdwr, he seems to have been either the cousin or nephew of just about all the major Norman figures in the invasion, Strongbow excepted. Although not an eyewitness to the invasion (his first visit to Ireland was in 1183), he clearly used family memories in writing his history.
A good example of Gerald’s low opinion of the Irish is his treatment of Dermot. Although the king had enough good sense, in Gerald’s eyes, to seek help from England, he remained a barbarian, which accounts for the bizarre scene of Dermot frolicking with the severed heads of the enemy. And always it is the members of Gerald’s own family who are given the highest and most unabashed praise. “Even if I had ‘a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths and a voice of iron,’” he writes, “I could not relate all their deeds as they deserve. What a breed, what a noble stock.”
HERE BEGINS THE BOOK OF
Prophetic History compiled by Gerald of Wales concerning the successful conquest of Ireland
Diarmait Mac Murchada, prince of Leinster and ruler of that fifth part of Ireland, held in our time the eastern seaboard of the island adjacent to Great Britain, with only the sea separating the two. From his earliest youth and his first taking on the kingship he oppressed his nobles, and
raged against the chief men of his kingdom with a tyranny grievous and impossible to bear. There was another unfortunate factor. On an occasion when Ua Ruairc king of Meath had gone off on an expedition to far distant parts, his wife, Ua Máelechlainn’s daughter, whom he had left on an island in Meath, was abducted by the aforesaid Diarmait, who had long been burning with love for her and took advantage of her husband’s absence. No doubt she was abducted because she wanted to be and, since “woman is always a fickle and inconstant creature,” she herself arranged that she should become the kidnapper’s prize.
Almost all the world’s most notable catastrophes have been caused by women, witness Mark Antony and Troy. King Ua Ruairc was stirred to extreme anger on two counts, of which however the disgrace, rather than the loss of his wife, grieved him more deeply, and he vented all the venom of his fury with a view to revenge. And so he called together and mustered his own forces and those of neighbouring peoples, and roused to the same purpose Ruaidrí, prince of Connacht and at that time supreme ruler of all Ireland. The men of Leinster, seeing that their prince was now in a difficult position and surrounded on all sides by his enemies’ forces, sought to pay him back, and recalled to mind injustices which they had long concealed and stored deep in their hearts. They made common cause with his enemies, and the men of rank among this people deserted Mac Murchada along with his good fortune ….
Mac Murchada, then, pursued Fortune, that ever elusive goddess, and put his faith in the changeableness of her wheel. His ship ploughed the waves, the wind was favourable, and he came to Henry II, king of England, intending to make an urgent plea for his help. Although Henry was across the seas in the remote region of Aquitaine, occupied with business in the way that princes are, yet withal he received Diarmait kindly and affectionately, and with the courtesy characteristic of his innate nobility and kindly nature. Accordingly, when he had duly heard the reason for his exile and arrival at the court, and had received from him the bond of submission and the oath of fealty, he granted him letters patent in the following terms: “… if any person from within our wide dominions wishes to help in restoring him, as having done us fealty and homage, let him know that he has our goodwill and permission to do this.”