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LIBRARY

1980

THE IRISH NATION:

ITS HISTOKY AND ITS BIOGRAPHY
BY JAMES WILLS, D.D.

COMPLETED BY

FEEEMAN WILLS, M.A.

PROSPECTUS.

IN the form of Biography " THE IRISH NATION " presents a
succinct History of Ireland from the earh'est ages of which any
records remain that can be considered authentic and historical.
Passing lightly over recollections which from lapse of time
had become faint; over uncertain memorials and exaggera-
tions of Bardic fable; it seeks to arrive at true judgments on
many subjects which have been misinterpreted by oppositions
of sect and party: an object the more important as that country
has for ages been the arena of conflicts, civil, religious, and
military; so that no topic of national interest can be selected on
which an opinion has been hazarded without having excited
contradiction, and even denunciation.

On statements occurring in the course of the narratives upon
which differences of opinion or of fact exist and are to be
settled, the author invariably proceeds on the principle of hear-
ing all parties and weighing the arguments in the scales of
reason and of probability.

With rare exceptions, it has hitherto been the fate of Ireland
to be misrepresented, either in friendship or in enmity, in praise

or in blame. Her historians — often most able and learned —
have too frequently been unable to disentangle their under-
standings and affections from illusions engendered by the pre-
judices of faction; those mists which hang densely over the
narratives of the cradle of their race.

This is not said in censure : we claim no praise for indiffer-
ence: it is not the boast of the Irish patriot; yet it is one of the
first and commonest pretensions of Irish historians.

The History of Ireland, as embodied in the biographies in
" THE IRISH NATION," is divided into three Periods, viz. :

I. lEarlg — FROM THE EARLIEST ACCOUNTS TO THE REIGN OF

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

II. ^Transition — FROM ELIZABETH TO THE TREATY OF LIM-

ERICK.

IIL |Hot(0rn — FROM THE TREATY OF LIMERICK TO THE PRE-
SENT DAY.

In connecting the events recorded under these epochs with
the lives of the actors concerned therein the convenience and
instruction of the reader is consulted by prefixing separate
HISTORICAL INTRODUCTIONS, in which the succession and pro-
gress of time is, as far as possible, preserved.

It may at first appear that the opening epoch is out of
proportion, and that it comprises two periods essentially distinct.
This may be admitted. But of these the first does not claim
the interest which belongs to later periods. It is disconnected
by the chasm of a great revolution and a transmutation of race ;
by the character of the subsequent course of events ; and by
the absence of the elements of national progress. It lies rather
within the province of the antiquary than of the historian.

As far as consistent with the exigencies of historical sequence

the Biographies— those in the first period particularly — are
arranged under classifications or headings, showing the races
and families whence the subjects of these biographies sprang,
and in some sort also becoming brief histories of those races
and families themselves.

This feature of the work imparts to it a peculiar character
and makes it bear so closely upon the origin and distribution of
race in Irish society as to justify the use of its title "THE
IRISH NATION." It thus becomes, within the limits which its
predominating national character allows, a history at once of
individuals, of families, and of races. A Series of Genealogical
Tables, exhibiting the descent of modern society from aboriginal
and earliest settlers families, illustrates and explains more fully
this feature of the work.

To make "THE IRISH NATION" every way worthy of public
approbation, a Gallery of engraved Portraits, of the more dis-
tinguished men whose lives are recorded in its pages, is given
in the way of illustration. Early subjects for such, not here-
tofore known to exist, having been discovered, are now made
public by the art of the graver; more modern ones are given
with a fulness that leaves all previous collections at hopeless
distance. To secure uniformity, they are engraved under the
eye of the same artist. The name of William Holl is a suffi-
cient guarantee for their artistic execution.

Of it, therefore, the publishers may with propriety say;

"THAT IT IS ONE IN WHICH EVERY NATIVE OF IRELAND
WILL FEEL INTERESTED, NOT ONLY ON ACCOUNT OF ITS LITER-
ARY MERIT, BUT AS TENDING TO SUPPLY AN ESSENTIAL DE-
SIDERATUM IN THE LITERATURE OF HIS COUNTRY."

THE IRISH NATION will be completed in Thirty Parts, Price Two
Shillings each, — each part containing at least Six sheets of Letter-
press and one Engraving. It will also be issued in eight half
Volumes, Price Eight Shillings and Sixpence each; or in four
Volumes, Price Sixteen Shillings each.

A. FULLABTON & Co..

STEAD'S PLACE, LEITH WALK, EDINBURGH ;

18 NEWGATE STREET, LONDON; 17 SUMMER HILL, DUBLIN;

AND 7 DONEGAL! STREET, BELFAST.

The following application, filled up, will ensure the immediate and
punctual delivery of the work :

GENTLEMEN, — Please to deliver at my Address, " THE IRISH NATION,"
as published in at

Name, ,

Profession,

Residence,

Date,

To MESSRS. A. FULLARTON & Co.,
Publishers, London and Edinburgh.

SPENSER.
GOLDSMITH.
SHERIDAN.

BERKELEY

BOYLE.

HAMILTON

SWIFT.
ROSCOMMON
STEEL. J

C LARE
BUSHE
SAURIN

JAMES WILLS.D.D.

COMPLETED BY

TYRONE.
WELLINGTON
HASTINGS.

USHER.

BEDELL.

MAGEE.

PORTRAITS,
PLATES OF GENEALOGIES,

WELLESLEY

FLOOD.
GRATTAN.
O'CONNELL

ORMONDE.
CHARLEMONT

CONDON EDINBURGH
&NEJW-YORK;

(I.I

NATIVE.

ANCIENT IKISH FAMILIES,

PLATE A.

NIALL OR O'NEILL,— LINE OF TYRONE. EARLDOM CREATED BY

HENRY VIII. 1542.

GREAT ANCESTOR, XfoU Of t&C Vint fl?0gtflgf0, 375, FROM WHOM DESCENDED, IN DIRECT SUCCESSION,
NIALL GLENDXTBH, SLAIN 917. MtTRKERTACH, HIS SON, CALLED "THE HECTOR OF THE WEST."

For 700 years this family were the hereditary Monarchs of Ireland.
The elder branch of Murkertach's sons became Princes of Tyrone ; the younger, Princes of Meath,

Crimes of 9T nront.

1519.

Con Baccagh,
his brother,
Kut. 1520,
Cr. E. 1642.

1505,
Art, imprisoned

by the rival
branch, rescued
by E. Kildare,

1609.

1556.

Shane, his

eld. son,

murdered 1567.

1567.

Hugh, son of
Lord Dungannon
(an illegt. son of

Con murd. by
Shane), attainted

1607, d. 1616<-

Sir Henry,

killed in action

against Sir C.

O'Dogherty,

1608.

Sir Phelim,
his grandson,

bnrn lt>04,
executed 1641.

The younger branch, to which the present Earl belongs, descends from Hugh Roy O'Neill, Lord of the Claneboys
and Ards, in the counties Antrim and Dov.-n, 1283.

of % Clatubong anb 3trbs.

Sir Shane

O'Neill, knight

of Edemluff-

Carrick.

Sir Henry,

his son, having

only a dau.,

was sue. by

Colonel Charles,

his grd.-nephew,

d. s. p.

1716.

John, his

kinsman,

grt.-grd.-son of

Sir Shane.

j$Hton anb Viscount

1769.
John of Shane's

castle, M.P.,
B. 1793, V. 1795,
killed in rebel-
lion '98.

(fcad.

1798.

Charles Henry

St. .Mm. cr.

Vis. Raymond

and E. O'Neill

1800. D. unmar.

Higher honours

extinct.

ARMS. — Per fesse,
wavy : the chief, ar-
gent, charged with a
sinister hand,* couped
and erect, gules : the
base, wave? of the sea,
proper • thereon a pike
fish, naiant, of the last.

SUPPORTERS. — Two

1739.

Charles,

his eld. son.

ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF THE O'NEILLS

lions, gules, each gorg-
ed with an Eastern
crown, and chained, or.

CREST. — An arm, em-
bowed, in armour, pro-
per: garnished, or;
holding a sword, also
proper.

MOTTO. —Lamb dearg
Eirin. *

The red han^ of Ireland, (which is the translation of the motto,) and the shield charged with the hand, arose thus :— In an
ancient expedition of some adventurers to Ireland, their leader declared that whoever first touched the shore should possess the
territory which he reached. O'Neil. bent on obtaining the reward, seeing another boat likely to land, cut iiis hand off and
threw it on shore. This was adopted by James I. as the badge on instituting the Order of Irish Baronets.

HQ&H 0' NEALE, EARL 01' TYRONE.

ANGLO-NORMAN. ANCIENT IRISH FAMILIES. PLATE i.

.FITZGERALD, — LINE OF OFFALLY, KILDARE AND LEINSTER. ORIGIN OF LORD-

SHIP IN FEUDAL TENURE OF LANDS AND LOCAL USAGE. EARLDOM

CREATED BY EDWARD II. 1316.

GREAT ANCESTOR ON

SIDE,

,if itjOtt)0, CASTELLAN OF WINDSOR TEMPORA WILLIAM THE

CONQUEROR.
Gerald, his eldest son, married Nesta, daughter of Rhasa, Prince of South Wales.

^f orbs of $[fallg. €arl of JUlbatt.

1 &2

1172.

Maurice,

hia eldest son.

1177.

Gmld. eldest,

Patriarch of house

of kildare.

1216.
Maurice,

fen*

his eld. son,
L.-Justice of I.,
Became a friar.

12S7.

Maurice, e. s.,
L.-Justice of I.,
obtained from
Henry III. free
trade from
I. to E.

1286.
Gerald, only son,

dying 1289,

estate passed to

line of 2d son of

2d L. O., viz.

E. 1. 6 L. 0.

1289.

John F. -Thomas,
cr. E. of Kildare

1316.
A very bold man.

The line of Earls of Kildare is continued in direct male succession to Gerald, 7th earl, the most prominent Irish-
man in Ireland during his long life. Of the intervening earls the only one •whose life presents anything worthy of
notice being Maurice, 4th earl, knighted by Edward III. for hib valour at the siege of Calais, governor of Ireland
1350, and twice afterwards; and Thomas, 7th earl, lord-deputy 1454 and in 1468.

fearls of Hilfrart.

E. 8. L. 0. 13.

1477.

Gerald, L. Dep. I.
and afterwards
L. Lieut.

E. 11&12.

1553.

Gerald, his

brother, s. by his

2d son, Henry

who died s. p.

E. 13.

William. 3d son

of Gerald, llth

E., died urmar.

8. by his

kinsman.

E. 14.

Gerald,

nephew of

llth E.

The line is again continued in direct male succession to James, 19th earl, whom George II., (in consideration of his
ancient and noble descent, his offer to raise a regiment at his own expense on the occasion of the rebellion of 1745,
and of his marriage with a lady of the royal branch of Lennox,) created a British peer, and raised to the dignity of
Marquis of Kildare, Earl of Oftally, and Duke of Leinster in Ireland, 1766. Of the intervening earls, his father,
Robert, the ISth earl, was conspicuous for his public services (having been lord justice, chancellor, and a commis-
sioner of the great seal in Ireland), and for his benevolence and piety.

of $tin$tn, parqutsts anb <8arls of Jiilbart, anb (Saris of ©ffallg.

2d D. 26 L. 0.

1773.

William Robert,
his eld. son.

IRISH FAMILIES

JOHN, GRANDSON OF

HIS 2D MARRIAGE WITH

Fitigeralds,

the Vhite knights;

from Gilbert,

his eldest son,

Fitzgerald;,
The Knights of

ARMORIAL BEARINGS OF FITZGERALD, EARL OF KILDARE.

3d D. 27 L. 0.

1804.

Augustus Fred-
erick, his eld.

son,

Sole D. and Premier
M. of Ireland.

DESCENDED FROM

GERALD, 2D L. O., BY

HONORA O'CONNOR.

ARMS. — Argent, a saltier, gules.

* CREST. — A monkey statant proper,
environed about the middle with a plain
collar and chained or.

SUPPORTERS. —Two monkeys, envi-

roned and chained, as the crest.

MOTTOES. — Over the crest, " Non iin-
memor beneficii;" under the shield,
"Crom a boo."

Fitzgerald*.
Knights of Kerry

or the

Black Knights;
from Maurice,
his third son.

The

Island;
from Thomas,
his fourth son.

* The crest and supporters were first assumed by Thomas, called 6th feudal L. O., called " The Ape," from an escape he had

when an infant.

Of the patent of Earldom of KUdare, which is given at length in Jacob, Selden says, " It is the most ancient form of creation I

have seen."

;;iTLER, DUKE CY ORMONDE

::r of Ireland..

A"FnRarton i.* C? London & Ettinhnrgli .

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION

EARLY PERIOD

IRISH NATION.

EARLY.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

CHAPTER I.

General Reasons for the Credibility of ancient Irisli History — Inferences from
Languages — From ancient Authority — From Monuments — Ancient state of
Civilization — First Kings.

MANY causes, of various degrees of importance, have contributed to
render the history of Ireland difficult to the historian, and unpopular
amongst the generality of readers. The remoteness and indistinct-
ness of its beginnings — the legendary character of its traditions — the
meagre and broken state of its more authentic annals — have not, as
in other modern countries, been remedied or counteracted by the
industry of the historian. The disputes of antiquaries, the extrava-
gant theories of some, the equally absurd scepticism of others, and
the differences of opinion amongst all, have only produced the natural
effect — in causing a strong reluctance to seek information on a ground
in which few seemed to agree. As the nature of our undertaking,
which comprises the long and varied range of all that has any preten-
sion to be regarded as authentic in Irish biography, imposes the neces-
sity of commencing our labours in a period over which the lapse of
ages has thrown much doubt, and not a little indistinctness, we can-
not better preface the first division of this work, than by the endeavour
to satisfy our readers of the probability of the general truth of the
ancient history of Ireland.

The history of Ireland is marked by peculiarities which do not
affect that of any other country. It comprises the remotest extremes
of the social state; and sets at nought the ordinary laws of social
transition and progress, during the long intervals between them.
Operated on by a succession of external shocks, the internal advances,
which form some part of all other history, have been wanting; and
her broken and interrupted career, presents a dream-like succes
sion of capricious and seemingly unconnected changes, without order
or progress. But let scepticism make all reasonable deductions on
the score of doubtful record or perplexed chronology, and refine
away all that is not too ponderous for its partial and one-sided grasp
— here a tradition, and there a broken monument — still the country

4 EARLY.

retains, indelibly stamped and widely abounding, characters which
cannot be explained according to the simplest rules of right reason,
but by referring them- to the remotest ages of antiquity. The imme-
morial monuments — the ancient superstitions — the traditions descended
from the common antiquity of the oldest races of mankind — the living
customs, and names of things and places traceable to these alone — the
ancient language — the very population — are actual remains of a state
of things, which they as clearly represent, as the broad foundations,
the massive pillars, and the gigantic arches of some wide-spread ruin
attest the size and ancient proportions of the stately city of old time.
To what precise point, in the scale of chronology, such indications are
to be referred, we must leave to professional antiquaries to settle : our
object is but to combat the vulgar prejudice against our ancient his-
tory, and the common errors which have caused it. It is our wish to
refer the intelligent reader, from the detached questions on which the
subject has been inadequately brought before him, to the more just and
comprehensive result of its collective evidence. The investigation of
each separate class of ancient remains, may lead to a vast variety of
specious inferences; but the true probability, for the interpretation
of each part, must be derived from its relation to the whole. When
every single relic of our antiquity shall have been explained into
something of more modern growth — probable conjecture will still con-
tinue to restore it to the massive combination of antiquities from which
it is forced only for the moment of some fashionable creed, which
gains popularity from the splendid caprices of talent. There is indeed
no cause which has more contributed to the popularity of scepticism,
than the real and imagined extravagance of antiquarian theories:
when a large demand is made upon our faith, any attempt to lighten
the exaction will be hailed with cordiality.

Among the popular impressions, unfavourable to the claim of our
ancient history, the most prominent is due to the marked and clinging
barbarism, which is the most characteristic feature of our middle
ages. It seems difficult for incredulity to admit, that a race which,
from the earliest period of the modern world — from the Danish settle-
ments to the very date of our immediate ancestors in the beginning
of the last century — seems to have preserved the characters of national
infancy, can possibly have the claims to a mature antiquity, which
antiquaries, however their creeds may differ, agree in affirming.

The fact is worth inquiry. Many of the causes of this anomalous
combination of extremes lie on the surface. The fate of Ireland has
been peculiar in this : that the same cause which partly contributed to
her early civilization, was, in after times, the means of retarding her
progress. We mean the circumstance of geographical position: more
within the track of the Tyrian sail, than of the Roman eagle, the
same position which exposed her shores to the approach of ancient
commerce, must, to some extent, have isolated this country from the
sweeping and onward mutations of the rest of the world.

The chances which, in earliest time, may have wafted to our
coast such civilization as then existed, as they are beyond inquiry, so
they are not worth it: they are but a very obvious part of the course
of things, and cannot reasonably be the ground of objection or doubt:

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

so far, it is enough that such things were. Assuming that this island
was peopled at an early period, it will nearly follow, that the first
rudiments of social civilization must have been imported by any people
who were then likely to find her shores : for the barbarism of after
ages sprung on or from the ruins of anterior civilization. The next
step is far more easy. While the neighbouring islands, in common
with the nations of Europe, were repeatedly swept over by various
races and hordes of either invaders or settlers — who desolated or usurped
every country in proportion as it lay nearer the main line of social
change, and thus involving every other land in the perpetual surge and
eddy of this great human tide, brought on the barbarism obviously
consequent on continued change and confusion — Ireland, comparatively
sequestered from the inroads of change, long continued to maintain
and cultivate the primitive arts and knowledge (whatever these were)
transmitted by the parent country. To her peaceful shore the laws
and religion, manners and customs, of some nation of antiquity, were
brought; and when the neighbouring shores became the scenes of
revolution and disorder, the same peaceful refuge received the kindred
remains of many an ancient creed and family. Such literature as
then existed, would probably soon begin to find its quiet centre, in the
sequestered island ; and, as the tumult of change began to settle among
the neighbouring people, again to send forth on every side the light
(such as it was) thus preserved. In all this there is nothing that is
not an easy consequence from the whole known history of the ancient
world. A theoretical consequence, we grant; but it loses this ques-
tionable character the moment we look on the facts of history, the
memorials of tradition, and the monuments of the land.

The very same fundamental fact will, by the same simple reasoning,
account for the other phenomena which we have stated as opposed
to this view. The same sequestered position which preserved the
form and structure of early ages from the desolating current of univer-
sal change, that for some ages continued to bear away the broken
ruins of antiquity in every other land; had, in the course of time, by
the same means, the effect of shutting out those succeeding changes
which were the steps of a new order of things. And while the sur-
rounding nations brightened, by slow degrees, into the spring of a
new civilization — which, in point of fact, was but a step of human pro-
gress— the civilization of elder times became itself but a barbaric
monument of earlier ages. In Ireland, it is true, the history of succes-
sive invasions may, on a slight view, be referred to as opposed to this
opinion. But it is not by such visitations that the modern civilization
of nations has grown ; but from the combination of a variety of com-
mon causes, all of them implying the continued and diffused action of
change. A few adventurers might, with the advantage of inconsider-
able resources, effect a settlement; but they cannot, under such cir-
cumstances, be imagined to have imported or communicated a compre-
hensive change of manners, religion, and laws. They could not even
be said to represent their country's manners and learning; they could
not be supposed to obtain the necessary influence, or even the neces-
sary intercourse, with the natives; and though it might be anticipated
that, in the course of a long period, their manners and customs would

(i EARLY.

he found to modify the national habits ; yet, before this could happen,
their descendants would have largely contracted the character of the
native population.

The changes of European society, which together have contributed
to form its modern state, were the numerous and successive shocks of
war, invasion, subjugation, and the mingling minds, manners, and
opinions of a hundred races, whirled together in the wide-extended
and long-continued eddies of European change ; and their quantum of
effect on any nation must have, in a great measure, depended on the
freedom and constancy of its intercourse with all the rest. The inter-
course of Europe with Ireland was very peculiar, and is likely to be
overrated by those who have viewed it only with reference to church
antiquity. But it was not an intercourse commonly productive of ex-
tensive change. It was such an intercourse as may be held with a
college or a church. The learned came to imbibe the scanty and
erroneous knowledge; and the religious, the doctrinal tenets of
their age. The sacred repository of ancient opinion was venerated as
the fountain-head of sacred knowledge, until it became its tomb. But
then, it was long left behind in the progress of nations, and lapsed into
an obscurity bordering on oblivion.

Such are the conditions of the strange problem, about the opposite
terms of which learned men have consumed much ink, and unlearned
shrewdness much misplaced ridicule.

The impressions, from many causes, unfavourable to the fair recep-
tion of Irish antiquity, have been much aggravated by the unwarranta-
ble omissions of some of our ablest historians. The observations of
Dr Johnson, in his letter to Charles O'Connor, are worth repeating: —

" Dr Leland begins his history too late : the ages which deserve an
exact inquiry, are those times (for such there were) when Ireland was
the school of the West, the quiet habitation of sanctity and literature.
If you could give a history, though imperfect, of the Irish nation, from
its conversion to Christianity to the invasion from England, you would
amplify knowledge with new views and new objects. Set about it
therefore if you can: do what you can easily do without anxious exact-
ness. Lay the foundation, and leave the superstructure to posterity."*

The antiquity of Ireland offers the most singular and instructive study
not merely to the systematizing antiquary, but to the general philoso-
pher and historian, who takes it up for the strong light it reflects on
the common antiquity of nations. The limited object of this work
will not permit of our discussing, at large, the vast and curious field of
authority on this important subject. Still less can we afford space for
the volumes of ingenious conflicting speculations, which have found a
fertile field of excursion in the obscurity of ancient monuments. Our
concern with the subject has a limited purpose. The first persons with
whom we are obliged to make our readers acquainted, stand far back
within the shadow of antiquity ; nor can we speak of them, without
drawing much of our matter from the history of a state of the country,
wliich may carry with it something more of the air of fabulous anti-
quity, than a large proportion of our readers may think consistent with

* Lk>8w ell's Jolinsou.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

the sober simplicity, which we should willingly infuse throughout our
pages, as the appropriate expression of historic truth.

Much of the very common tone of scepticism which is manifested
on the subject of Irish antiquity, is founded on that confined scope of
mind, which is the general cause of scepticism in whatever form it
appears. Some are involved in the difficulties which attend on partial
views, and some are only difficult to convince, because they apply to
the subject of Irish antiquity, a method of estimation which must
equally reject all ancient history. The best resource against either of
these errors, is, perhaps, to look attentively on the sum of evidence aris-
ing from the combined view of all the monuments and records of the
past, to the careful exclusion of every system. The question will then
stand thus : Whether there are or are not evidences of different kinds,
by which the history of Ireland and its inhabitants can be traced back
to a remote period, antecedent to any which belongs to the history of
modern European nations? Such a question must, of course, involve
in its detail all the special inquiries into the authenticity, or the im-
port, of each special record or alleged monument ; but when the whole
is first laid together in one comprehensive view, much of the difficulty
and complication attendant on such inquiries is likely to disappear.
For the value and import of each allegation must undergo some mo-
dification from the connexion it may be found to have with a system
of facts and evidences. The evidence arising from a single fact may
be too vague and obscure to support any inference; or inferences
contrary to those required by a probable theory may, with seemingly
greater force, be drawn. But a main probability, arising from a sum
of facts, may not only exclude this contrary inference, but even con-
nect the seemingly hostile fact, with the reasoning it seemed to oppose,
as the essential link of a chain of settled facts. It then not only receives
an authentic stamp from this concurrence ; but it gives much additional
force to the whole chain of inference, and still more to the ultimate
conclusion to which they legitimately conduct.

To state such a question, the testimonies of ancient authors, the
traditions of the country, the customs and superstitions, the structure
of the language, the names of places, and the monuments of the land,
are the plainer and more tangible materials. To estimate these, there
is no need for refined reasoning or minute and subtle investigation.
Whatever separate weight may be attached to a few sentences of an
ancient classic — or to the fractured pillar, or rusted weapon — or doubt-
ful analogy of speech or custom; it will appear on the very surface,
that there is a combination of phenomena, which belongs to the history
of no other modern European land, and which, whatever may be its
solution, excludes at least the analogies of modern history : and next,
that these phenomena are such as to fall within the common analogy
of another more ancient order of things.

The value of this simplification of the subject will be evident to those
who have explored the voluminous range of writers, who have taken
opposite views, in a field so fertile of controversy. There are indeed
few subjects of human inquiry which have afforded more ample scope
to the opposite errors of reason: the enthusiastic imagination, that
beholds towers and temples, and the whole gorgeous moving scene of

8 EAKLY.

human existence, m the distant clouds of ages receding into oblivion ;
the superficial but vivacious acuteness, that sees nothing but the atom
on which the microscope of a sm.ill mind is directed, and exhibits its
petty ingenuity, in reconciling, on false assumptions, the small portion
which it comprehends, and denying the rest. The real importance of
such a method extends, indeed, far beyond the limited subject of this
dissertation ; as it might be usefully extended to the erroneous school of
history which disgraces the literature of the age.

A little impartial attention, thus directed to the subject of ancient
[rish history, would dissolve many intricate knots, in which some of
our very best guides have now and then entangled themselves : of this we
shall presently offer some instances. But it is time to descend into the
particulars. Of our view it perhaps may be now unnecessary to pre-
mise, that it is our object merely to exhibit an outline of the subject. To
do this with less embarrassment, we shall exclude the consideration of
the separate facts and opinions to be adduced, further than in their
relation to the whole. So far as we shall be obliged to transgress this
rule in a few important points, we shall take occasion to bring forward
the statement of some authoritative writer. This will be the more neces-
sary, as a great portion of our readers cannot be presumed to be suffi-
ciently acquainted with our neglected history, to attach the proper
weight to a merely general statement.

The records, of whatever class, which agree in referring the origin
of the Irish population to a remote antiquity, are the only distinct
traces to be found of the early history of the country. A different
course of events must have left other traditions. Again; in every
nation to which there is a history, the beginnings of that history are
distinctly traced on the authority of some authentic records — unless
in those cases in which all historians are agreed in attributing an
immemorial antiquity: to this class may be referred India, Egypt,
Persia, &c. So far, therefore, it is plain enough, that the early history
of Ireland is, until the contrary shall be shown, referrible to the latter
class, and not to the former. The traditions of the country affirm an
extreme antiquity — the existing remains of ancient time correspond to
this affirmation — the testimonies of ancient writers incidentally con-
firm the same pretension — the language of the people is itself not
only a monument of a remote and aboriginal antiquity, but indicates the
very race affirmed by tradition — the remains of ancient superstition — the
variety of names of places and things, with the old customs, reconcile-
able with ancient rites and superstitions, and having no reference to
any thing within the compass of modern history: all these, when
taken in their full force, have separately a nearly conclusive weight;
and together, set all rational scepticism at defiance. The reader must
here recollect, that, so far, the inference is not one in favour of any
particular system of Irish antiquity; it is simply the affirmation, that
such a remote antiquity, as our historians claim, is to be admitted,
whether it can be distinctly ascertained or not.

But when this point is gained, it will be quickly observed by the
intelligent reasoner, that nothing remains worth the sceptic's disputing.
If we admit the general assertion of an origin which must at all events
synchronize with the ancient races of mankind, there can be nothing

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

incredible in the conclusion which fixes any ancient race as the primal
colonists of the land ; though there may be something absurd in the effort
to arrive at inferences totally inconsistent with this general admission.
In the best evidence to be derived from tradition, or accidental
notice of historians, or any other ancient record or monument not fall-
ing within the scope of full historical consent, there must be some
degree of doubt. The origin of such memorials is questionable, or
their imputed antiquity doubtful. But the case of Irish antiquity is
something different from one of forced constructions and isolated
testimonies. It is a case, having all the evidence that it admits of, to
establish an inference of itself previously probable ; and not encumbered
by the adverse circumstances of any other construction to be set in
opposition. If the Irish race is not to be deduced, according to the
claims of its annalists and poets, it cannot be deduced in any other
way. And the deduction of its annalists and poets, though vitiated
by all sorts of extravagance, has yet a fundamental agreement with
probability, which demands a general consent.

The highest degree of historical evidence, it must be recollected,
has only existence in one example, in which a mass of parallel and
correspondent narrations and documents, published by contemporaries,
are, from the very period, confirmed by institutions, vast social
changes, multiplied and lasting controversies, and authenticated by
numerous copies, and the still more numerous citations of a series of
writers, reaching down the whole interval of ages. From this high ap-
proach to certainty, there is a descent through innumerable degrees of
evidence, till we reach the legendary mixtures of fact and fable, which
hang, with a cloudy indistinctness, about the twilight of barbaric
tradition. But in all these lessening degrees, there is, to historic
reason, a pervading th^e>?<l of evidence of another order, and con-
sisting in the analogy of cur nature, and that analogy which is to be
extracted from the traditions of all nations.

These considerations would lead us far from our direct purpose,
which is, with the utmost brevity and simplicity in our power, to con-
nect them with the questions which have been raised upon the early
history of Ireland. To these we shall now proceed.

That all nations, of which the origin does not fall within the
periods of modern history, have shown the natural disposition to claim
a remote ancestry in, or beyond the earliest traditions of the human
race, is a fact easily proved by an extensive induction. But it is also
true that such pretensions must be within certain limits, agreeable to
the general truth, which must so infer the origin of all. It is not
about the fact, but about the authority and the particular account,
that the objection can lie. Were we therefore to take up the extreme
positions of those enthusiastic writers who have chosen to begin
before the flood, it is not on the score of possibility, or even probability,
that we are fairly entitled to impeach their assertions. It is simply
a question as to the authority for affirmations which are in themselves
not unlikely to come near the truth. In opposition to this truth, the
objections of the sceptic have been too much aimed at the conclusion,
and too little at the statements of evidence on which it rests. Thii
fact may be illustrated by an observation of Plowden's: •' Not one of

10 EARLY.

those," writes Plowden, " who deny, or even question, the general
authenticity of the ancient history of Ireland, from Gerald Barry to the
Rev. James Gordon, has offered an objection to any one of their
philological observations and inferences. Most of them profess, and
all of them are believed, to be ignorant of the Irish language."

Language. — When it exists to a sufficient extent, there is no
evidence so authoritative as language. The exploits of visionary
philologists have communicated to sober persons a not unwarranted
distrust in a science confused by so much ingenuity. But setting
this apart, the distrust it can reflect on the simplest and clearest
inferences which such investigations can afford, must be described as
the opposite extreme of prejudice- It is universally allowed, that the
Irish language has an origin beyond the period of authentic modei'n
history: and this, to go no farther, settles, beyond dispute, the remote
antiquity of the race to which it is peculiar, and lays a firm founda-
tion for the successive steps of inference by which that race can be
more closely identified with the known races of antiquity. The
affinity of this language with that of other people who are derived
from the Celtic stock, and its entire freedom from analogous relations
w ith the Roman, Greek, and other fundamental languages of the
modern nations, guide, with unerring certainty, to the next generally
admitted step — namely, the Celtic descent of the Irish.

On this point, we believe, there now exists little, if any, difference of
opinion, — and it needs not here be argued further, than by the state-
ment of the opinions of some of our most recent writers, who — having
been expressly engaged in the study of the subject — have given their
opinions on a full review of the best authorities. " There appears to
be no doubt," says Mr Moore, " that the first inhabitants of Ireland
were derived from the same Celtic stock which supplied Gaul, Britain,
and Spain, with their original population. Her language, and the
numerous monuments she still retains of that most ancient superstition,
which the first tribes who poured from Asia into Europe are known
to have carried with them wherever they went, must sufficien tly attest
the true origin of her people. Whatever obscurity may hang round
the history of the tribes that followed this first Eastern swarm, and
however opinions may still vary, as to whether they were of the same,
or of a different race, it seems at least certain, that the Celts were
the first inhabitants of the Western parts of Europe ; and that, of the
language of this most ancient people, the purest dialect now existing
is the Irish." — Cab. Cyc. Hist. Ire. \.

From the same writer, whose work abounds with proofs of industry
in the collection of authorities, we shall offer another attestation to
the same purport, which bears yet more immediately on the point to
be here illustrated. " Abundant and various as are the monuments to
which Ireland can point, as mute evidences of her antiquity, she boasts a
yet more striking proof in the living language of her people, — in that
most genuine, if not only existing dialect, of the oldest of all European
tongues — the tongue which, whatever name it may be called by, ac-
cording to the various theories respecting it, whether Japhetan, Cim-
merian, Pelasgic, or Celtic, is accounted most generally to have been
the earliest brought from the East, by the Noachidae, and accordingly

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. R

to have beeii the vehicle of the first knowledge that dawned upon
Europe. In the still written and spoken dialect of th;s primeval
language, we possess a monument of the high antiquity of the people
to whom it belongs, which no cavil can reach, nor any doubts disturb."
Some of the curious and instructive authorities, with which Mr
Moore has illustrated these remarks, should not in justice be omit-
ted. One of these may appropriately lead to the notice of a curious
discovery, which, it appears to us, that Mr Moore is inclined to under-
value on rather insufficient grounds.

Two confirmation* of the antiquity and Eastern origin of the Irish
language, mentioned by antiquaries, are the gutturals with which it
is so strongly characterized, and the singular coincidence by which
its alphabet seems identified with that brought by Cadmus from Phoa-
nicia into Greece. On the latter of these points we shall be content to
borrow a single quotation from Huddlestone, on the authority of Mr
Moore. " If the Irish had culled or selected their alphabet from that
of the Romans [an assumption by which this coincidence has been
explained], how, or by what miracle, could they have hit on the iden-
tical letters which Cadmus brought from Phoenicia, and rejected all
the rest? Had they thrown the dice sixteen times, and turned up
the same number every time, it would not have been so marvellous as
this." This identity (if it exist) cannot be due to chance. It must
arise from the adoption of the Phoenician alphabet, or from the same
language having suggested the same letters. The latter inference i*
absurd; but either must lead to the same conclusion.

But the next point, of which this is valuable as a confirmation, is the
real or supposed discovery of Vallancey, on the coincidence of the
Irish language with some passages of an ancient unknown tongue,
supposed to be the ancient Phoenician, and given as such in an ancient
drama, the Pcenulus of Plautus. A coincidence so startling, is likely
to awaken suspicion, and draw forth opposition in proportion to its
value, as confirmatory of any historic inference. It is fair to preface
it here by stating, that it is questioned by authoritative linguists and
antiquaries: but we may add, that the objections which we have
heard or read, are not conclusive enough to warrant our rejection of
so important an illustration of our antiquity. The chief of these we
shall notice, but first we may state the facts. The Pcenulus of Plau-
tus contains about twenty-five lines of a foreign language, put by the
dramatist into the mouth of Phrenicians; but which has ever since
continued to defy the research of etymologists. By a fortunate
thought, the sagacity of Vallancey, or of his authority (for his
claim to originality is doubted), hit upon a key to the difficulty. By
attending to the vocal formations of these lines, they were found,
without any transposition of sound, to be resolvable into words, ex-
hibiting but slight differences from the Irish language ; and by the
comparison thus suggested, they were, by several persons, translated
into a sense, such as the suppositions of the drama required. As the
experiment was repeated, with the same result, on persons having no
correspondence with each other, and ignorant of the nature of the
trial, two very strong confirmations were thus obtained: one from
the coincidence of the interpretations with each other, and the other

EARLY.

from the coincidence of all with the sense of the drama, and the trans-
lation given by Plautus. If this statement be true, we submit, that the
case so made out, must set aside all objections. These coincidences,
of which we shall presently offer some satisfactory examples, are
materially confirmed, by a fact which seems at first to bear the op-
posite construction. A similar comparison with the Hebrew is pro-
ductive of a result of the same nature, but with a far inferior degree
of coincidence, both in sense and sound. With a specimen of this we
shall not need to detain the reader: the object of our noticing, is to
point out, and still more to meet the prejudice, which it seems to
raise against the argument. The direct inference in our favour is
but slight — being the general confirmation of the affinity between the
Irish and the Hebrew, an affinity by which it is, in a similar manner,
connected with most other ancient Asiatic tongues. This has been dis-
tinctly traced by many writers, as well as by Vallancey, but our cursory
purpose does not admit of entering into so expansive a field of etymo-
logical learning. The fact may, however, conduce to an object which
we cannot thus pass by — the explanation of the seeming objection
which seems to arise from the possibility of thus resolving the same
lines into different languages. It seems, on the mere statement, to
give an arbitrary character to all the interpretations, not reconcileable
with any distinct or certain inference. But the objection, if admissible
in its full force (which it is not), is met by the near affinity of all the
languages which can be so applied ; an affinity which may be indeed
measured by the approach to coincidence in the third or common
medium thus supposed. A moment's recollection of the nature of
language, as addressed to the ear and not the eye, will enable the
reader to understand the proposition : that all language is a succes-
sion of sounds, not distinguished by the divisions of writing, or by any
divisions in the nature of separation; but by syllables, distinguished
by a vocal formation, which compels the organs of speech to utter
them in distinct articulations. Hence, if this be rightly understood,
the formation of a supposed language, by an arbitrary division of letters,
is impossible. To effect this object, the division must be strictly
syllabic, and admits of but the few and simple variations which belong
to languages which have the closest affinity : all possible divisions offer
but one succession of syllabic sounds.

But the supposed objection can scarcely be admitted to exist. The
verses in the Pcenula may be decomposed into Hebrew sounds, and
translated, by some force on words, into a sense not inconsistent with
the design of Plautus. But the Irish approaches to the near coinci-
dence of a dialect, and gives the full and accordant interpretation of
the lines in Plautus, as translated in Plautine Latin. But this is not
all : the same inference is supported as clearly through the dialogue
of a scene in the same play. We shall now offer specimens of both,
beginning with the scene, as least commonly to be met with in the
writers who have noticed the subject.

In the second Scene of the fifth Act of the Pcenula, the following
dialogue occurs: — *

* Vallancey 's Collectanea, vol. ii. 306, et trq.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 13

MILP. Adibo hosce atque, appellabo Punice ;
Si respondebunt, Punice pergam loqui :
Si non : turn ad horum mores linguam vertero.
Quid ais tu ? ecquid adhuc commeministi Punice ?

AG. Nihil adepol, nam qui scire potui, die mihi
Qui illinc sexennis perierim Karthagine ?

HAN. Pro di immortales ! plurimi ad hunc modum
Periene pueri liberi Karthagine.

MIL. Quid ais tu ? AG. Quid vis ? MIL. Vin' appellem hunc Punice ?
AG. Anscis? MIL. Nullus me est hodie Poenus Punior.

AG. Adi atque appella, quid velit, quid venerit,
Qui sit quojatis, unde sit : ne parseris.

MIL. Avo ! quojatis estis ? aut quo ex oppido ?

HAN. Hanno Muthumbulle bi Cheadreanech.

Irish. Hanno Muthumbal bi Chathar dreannad.

I am Hanno Muthumbal, dwelling at Carthage.

Passing over some remarkable coincidences of the same kind, we
come to some which exhibit the remarkable fact, that Plautus, who
borrowed the scene from an earlier drama, did not understand the
language thus quoted, or seem aware how it applied to the direct pur -
pose of his dialogue. The Phoenician, it should be stated, is one v/ho
has been bereaved of his children: —

HANNO. Luech la chananim liminichot.

Irish. Luach le cheannaighim Horn miocht.

At any price 1 would purchase my children.

The interpreter, in the drama, gives the following explanation : —
Ligulas canalis ait se advexisse et nuces ; &c.
AG. Mercator credo est. HAN. ' Is am ar uinam :

Irish. Is am ar uinneam.

This is the time for resolution.

HAN. Palum erga dectha !

Irish. Ba liozn earga deacta.

I will submit to the dictates of Heaven.

One extract more we must not omit, as containing a coincidence of
a different kind, but not less important to another portion of this
argument : —

HAN. Gun ebel Balsemeni ar a san.

Irish Guna bil Bal-samen ar a son.

O that the good Balsamen may favour them 1

It would be easy, from the same source, to pursue these quotations

with others leading to the same curious inference. We must, however,

content ourselves for the present with a few taken a little further on,

which we give as usually found in the essays written on the subject:—

Punic. Bythim mothym moelothii ne leathanti dioestnachon.

As arranged by Vallancey: —

Byth lym ! Mo thym nocto thii nel ech anti daise machon.

Irish. Beith liom. Mothime uoctaithe niel acanti daisic mac coine.
English. Be with me : I have no other intention but ot recovering my
daughter.

14 EARLY.

The last we shall give is literally coincident with the Irish: —

Handone silli hanum bene, silli in mustine.
English. " Whenever she grants a favour, she grants it linked with misfortunes.'

The question here stated, and so far explained for the reader's de-
cision, was put to a test of the most rigid kind, by different inquirers,
amongst whom Dr Percy, the celebrated bishop of Dromore, may be
mentioned particularly. He mentions in the preface to his great work,
that he set different persons to translate the lines in Plautus, by their
knowledge of the Irish language : and, without any previous prepara-
tion, or any communication with each other, they all gave the same
sense. Recent writers have treated this argument with undeserved
slight. If the inference is to be rejected, all reference to the class of
proof to which it belongs must be rejected: and we must confess, that
notwithstanding the great learning and ability with which his argu-
ment is followed out, we are surprised at an elaborate parallel between
Irish and Hebrew, in a recent writer, who rejects, by compendious
silence, a parallel so much more obvious and complete. But a writer
of higher note demands the few remarks which we dare to add to this
discussion, already grown beyond the measure of a prefatory essay.
The coincidences which Mr Moore calls casual, are not such as to ad-
mit of a term which annihilates all the pretensions of the closest affi-
nities of language, and which violates also the demonstrative laws of
probability: insomuch, that if, as Mr Moore affirms, the admission of
the inference proves too much, we very much fear that so much as it
proves must be admitted, though it should discomfit a little political
theory. The reasoning adopted by Mr Moore (who does not, we
suspect, attach much real weight to it) can be reduced to a very easy
dilemma. The objection is.this : that the " close conformity" attempted
to be established between the Irish and Phoenician, does not allow
sufficiently for the changes which language must be supposed to un-
dergo in the six centuries between Plautus and the foundation of Car-
thage ; and also, that Ireland should not only have been colonized di-
rectly from Carthage, but have also retained the language unaltered
through so many centuries. The actual principle on which the real
weight of this objection hangs, is the assumption of the necessity of
the continual and uniform alteration of language in the course of time.
Now, there is either a considerable difference between the languages
compared by Vallancey, or there is not. If there is so much as to reduce
the comparison merely to a casual resemblance, this portion of the
objection fails, on the ground that such a difference is a sufficient
alteration for 600 years to have accomplished. If, on the contrary, there
is so little difference as to answer the purpose of such an objection, it
becomes altogether nugatory, for if in this case the lines in Plautus be
admitted as genuine, the Irish and Phoenician languages are the same :
and the doubtful chronology must give way to the settled fact. But,
in point of fact, the comparison in question, while it clearly establishes
the close relation of dialects of a common language, exhibits full altera-
tion enough for 600 years. The alterations of language are by no
means proved to be uniform, but depend on many circumstances both
in the character and history of a people. To estimate the law of
change — and the change of language depends on all others — requires

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

much power of abstracting the mind from the notions acquired iu the
recent order of things. The laws of social progression have, since
the end of the 1 8th century, undergone an alteration which continue
to baffle calculation. The extraordinary disruptions and revolutions of
ancient empires must, in numberless instances, have produced the most
rapid alterations in habits, religion, language: but there was no
rate of internal progress in the domestic history of any ancient nation
which demands more allowance in the change of dialect, than is appa-
rent in the case under consideration. This consideration derives some
added weight from one frequently noticed by Mr Moore: namely, the
natural tenacity of the Celtic disposition — a tenacity which is most
remarkable in the Irish branch, and therefore probably in their Phoe-
nician kindred: being, in fact, one of the great common characteris-
tics of Oriental origin. In a word, on this point, we cannot admit
that the question of time can be reasonably adopted as a criterion on
this subject. Of all the difficulties in the investigation of antiquity,
those attending chronology are by far the greatest ; and, when certain
other tests not very abundant are wanting, the most dependent upon
the previous decision of a variety of questions and the comparison of
a multitude of slight probabilities. Such difficulties as the uncertain
chronology of periods and people, of which our knowledge is but in-
ferential and traditionary, cannot be suffered to interfere with the con-
clusions from the plainest affinity of language — preserved traditions —
authenticated historical notices — and existing monuments. And if we
are to be scrupulous in receiving the theories and systems of antiqua-
rian fancy, we are, in like manner, bound to be cautious not to err
on the other extreme, by lightly suffering theory equally unfounded
to form the ground of our scepticism. The theory of human progress,
were it to be reasoned out from a comprehensive view of the history
of mankind, should itself depend on the comparison of facts of this
nature. The rate of national change is, in any period, only to be
ascertained from phenomena, of which the language of each period b
by far the most available and certain test ; as being an instrument
most immediately affected by all the changes and peculiarities of na-
tionality. We are reluctant to dwell on a subject which, to most of
our readers, can have little interest ; but we have also to remark, that
the actual amount of change which the Phoenician language may have
undergone in the 600 years supposed, is not to be measured by the
language of poetry, proverb, or general moral sayings. To affect
these there must be a rapid change of the moral character of a nation,
and even thus the effects are comparatively slight, from the more per-
manent nature of moral notions. The changes to which the Phoe-
nician people were most, but still comparatively little subject, must
have arisen from the intercourse of commerce and the increase of
luxury: and chiefly acted on the names of things and the operations
of art. It is to be remembered, that the greatest changes language
can be ascertained to have undergone, were from a cause not connected
with time, but violent interference. But we are transgressing our
limits and our humbler province : we shall now, as briefly as we can,
lay before our readers the traditionary authorities, which derive much
added weight from the above consideration.

EARLY.

Ancient Authority. — We should n«xt offer a sketch of the ancient
historic remains of Phoenicia, as from such a view might be drawn
some of the most important corroborutions of the common inference
of our Irish antiquaries in favour of the Phoenician colonization of the
country. But, anxious to preserve the brevity which should charac-
terize a discussion merely incidental to our main design, we must be con-
tent to append the simple outline which a few sentences may contain.

Historians are agreed in attributing to the Phoenicians the origin of
commerce and navigation ; but it is enough that their history presents
the earliest elements and first records of these great steps of human
progress. For ages, they had no rivals on the sea ; and as neighbour-
ing states rose into that degree of prosperity which extends to com-
mercial wants, the Phoenicians were still the carriers of other people.
Situated on a rocky and confined tract of territory between Libanus
.and the sea, there was probably added to the enterprise of commerce,
that overflow of people which causes migration; and in direct cause
of these conditions there arises a very high probability, that they would
be the first discoverers, and the earliest . colonists, of distant islands
only accessible by the accident of navigation. As this previous pro-
bability is itself of a very high order, so any circumstances tending
to confirm it, being in themselves but probable consequences, both re-
ceive from, and impart considerable strength to, the same conclusion.

Of such a nature is the affinity of language so fully proved in the
last section. To this we may add the consent of tradition, and the
agreement, to a certain extent, of authorities.

On the latter topic we shall say little. There is satisfactory
reason, why much stress cannot be justly laid on express historical
authority — in either way. This period of the early occupation of
Ireland by her Celtic inhabitants, and of her probable colonization
from Phoenicia, is not properly within the limits oi? authentic history.
Before the earliest of the Greek historians, to whom we are indebted
for the first distinct notices of the island, a period of civilization and,
perhaps, of commercial importance, had passed away. The power and
glory of Phoenicia itself was gone — the relations of the civilized world
and the form of civil society had changed: Ireland had passed into
a phase of obscurity, and was mentioned but incidentally, or as a
remote and unimportant portion of the known world. Such notices
must needs have been slight, and for the same reason liable both to
important oversights and misstatements. This consideration must, to
the fair reasoner, suggest a special rule of historical construction,
which, before noticing these authorities, we must endeavour to explain.

The assumption of the kind of ignorance here explained, suggests
the inference that such accounts, while founded on some .-einains of an
authoritative nature then extant — but remote, obscure, imperfect, and
neither fully known or distinctly understood — must necessarily be
affected by consequent misrepresentations: and that therefore, allow-
ing a foundation in truth, they must be understood subject to the
corrections to be derived from other sources of inference, and to be
considered still as authoritative, so far as they can be confirmed by
such a comparison. Into this comparison it is needless to enter
formally: it is, when stated, so nearlv the obvious common ssuse of the

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 17

subject, that the plainest reader may be safely left to apply it. Its
main application is to account for the scanty notice of the early histo
rians, who appear to have given so disproportionate an importance tc
the surrounding countries; and also for the existence of the adverse
testimonies of Pomponius and Solinus, Strabo and Diodorus. Ol
these writers it may be observed, that the times in which they wrote,
fall within a period in which the Irish nation had sunk both into bar-
barism and obscurity. It was also a period when the general ignor-
ance which existed as to the greater portion of the world, exposed not
only the geographer but the historian to the evils of credulity : where
so much must have been received on trust, and so many false notions
corrupted the little that was known ; there was both a facility in the
reception of vague report, and the adoption of hasty inference on insuffi-
cient grounds. The temptations to fill up a blank of slight seeming im-
portance, in an anxious work of extensive and laborious inquiry, would,
in the absence of that minutely searching and jealous observation which
now guards the integrity of writers, make such temptations less
likely to be resisted. But even with these allowances, there is, pro-
perly, nothing in the authorities called adverse, to impair the moder-
ate view which we are inclined to adopt.

Our best authorities substantially concur in the opinion, that this
country was, at a remote period, the scene of the highest civilization
in that period existing. From this state it appears to have slowly
decayed into a state of barbarism, in which little of that earlier
civilization but its monuments remained. Of this, we must say more
in our next section : we mention it here, as explaining more distinctly
to readers who are not professedly conversant with the subject, the
confusion which is to be found in all that numerous class of writers,
of the last century, in their incidental notices of the subject of Irish
antiquities. Assuredly the laws of human nature are sometimes over-
looked in the eagerness of controversy. The inconsistencies discov-
ered in the traditions of our ancient race, are admitted facts in the
history of others. The very characteristic marks of extreme antiquity
are made objections to the claim. Ancient civilization, altogether
different from that of any time within the limits of modern history, is
uniformly stamped with features to which may be applied the expres-
sive term barbaric — conveying a sense different from the rudeness of
the savage state. Characters of profound knowledge, high mental
development, and mechanic skill, are accompanied by wants and
manners now confined to the savage state. And thus may the scepti-
cal inquirer always find materials ready for the manufacture of easy
contradictions.

With regard to Ireland, the vicissitudes of many centuries have
brought with them sad reverse. And the downright barbarism into
which she has been crushed by a succession of dreadful revolutions —
the ceaseless vortex of internal strife — have been mistaken by shallow
observers for national characters. This is among the large class who
take no interest in the history of Ireland — the main source of mistake
upon the subject: they see, but do not learn or think; and therefore
see but half, and are presumptuously or ignorantly wrong.

It is unquestionably to be admitted, that much of the common scep-
i. B Jr.

EARLY.

ticism, which we have here noticed, is due to the extravagance of
writers on Irish history, who, combining enthusiasm with profound
historical ignorance, have misinterpreted the proofs of Irish civilization,
into a degree and kind of civilization which never had existence ;
confusing the additions of poetry and the dreams of fancy, with the
slender basis of fact on which they are built. Such are the gorgeous
chimeras which ornament and discredit the narrations of Walker,
Keating, O'Halloran ; while Ledwich and Pinkerton, with more seem-
ing reason, but less truth, adopt the safe and easy rule of comprehen-
sive incredulity.

But there is a juster and safer middle course which will be found
to exact neither rash admissions or rejections. It sets out on two well-
grounded conclusions, into which the strongest oppositions of fact will
fall, disarmed of their opposition. The first, thus already explained :
the admission of a previous period of civilization, followed by one of
barbarism ; the other, a known fact common to the ancient history
of nations, the co-existence of high degrees of civilization in some
respects, with the lowest barbarism in others. With the help of these
two plain assumptions, there is nothing in the alleged antiquity of
Ireland to be objected toon the score of improbability. By duly weighing
these reflections, we have some trust that the general reader will not
be repelled from the subject, by the reputed discrepancies and confu-
sion of old historians. The effort to fill up a period of hopeless
obscurity, by extending back the vague and traditionary accounts
of the more recent period, immediately anterior to Christianity, has
been, we believe, a main source of error and delusion, on which, at a
future stage of our labour, we shall offer a few remarks.

The earliest notice, which the industry of students of Irish antiquity
seem to have ascertained, occurs in a Greek poem, of which the
supposed date is five hundred years before the Christian era. " There
seems," observes Mr Moore, "to be no good reason to doubt the
antiquity of this poem." Archbishop Usher says, in adverting to the
notice it contains of Ireland, " the Romans themselves could not pro-
duce such a tribute to their antiquity." In this poem, Ireland is
mentioned under the Celtic appellation lernis; and this, according to
Bochart, on the authority of the Phoenicians — as the Greeks had not
then acquired a knowledge of islands as yet inaccessible to them.
This assertion derives some added weight from the omission of any
notice, in the same poem, of the neighbouring island of Britain. He-
rodotus affords an additional gleam, by informing us of the only fact
he knew respecting the British isles — that tin was imported from
them ; while he was ignorant of their names. From these two notices,
it seems an easy inference, that they were places of high commercial
importance to the great mistress of the seas ; while the Greeks, ignorant
at that time of navigation, had no popular, or even distinct knowledge
of them ; and the more so, from the well known secrecy observed by the
Phoenicians, in all things concerning their commercial places of resort.
From Strabo we obtain a lively picture, which bears the marks of
truth, of their jealous vigilance in preserving a naval supremacy, which
must, in those early periods, have depended, in a great measure, on
the ignorance of the surrounding states. If at any time, when at sea,

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

they fell in with the vessels of any other people, or discovered a sail
upon their track, all the resources of art and daring were used to de-
ceive the stranger, and mislead conjecture. For this purpose, no
danger or violence was too great, and the loss of ship or life was not
considered too great a sacrifice to the security of their monopoly of
the islands. From this it appears unlikely that much, or very distinct
notice of the British isles should occur in the early writings of the
Greeks ; and the value of the slightest is much increased, by the con-
sideration, that more could not reasonably be looked 'for. The first
of these notices of the two islands, is met in a work which has been
sometimes attributed to Aristotle, but which, being dedicated to
Alexander, is of that period. In this they are mentioned by their
Celtic names of Albion and lerne.

A notice far more express occurs in a writer of far later date ; yet,
bearing the authentic stamp of authority of a period comparatively early.
At some time between the ninety-second and hundred and twenty-
ninth Olympiad, the Carthaginians sent out two maritime expeditions
to explore, more minutely, the eastern and western coasts of the world,
as then known to them. Of these, that led by Himilco was directed
to the Western Islands. Both of these voyagers left accounts of their
voyages and discoveries, of which those written by Himilco were in-
serted in the Punic Annals. From these Festus Avienus, who wrote
his poem, De Oris Maritirnis, some time in the fourth century, affirms
himself to have derived his accounts of the western coasts ; and, in-
deed, asserts an acquaintance with the original Journal. In this
account, Himilco is described as coasting the Spanish shores — the
known Phoenician course to these islands ; and stretching from the
nearest point across to the ^Eestrumnides, or Scilly Islands. These are
described, in the sketch of the geographical poet, as two days' voyage
from the larger Sacred Island of the Hiberni, near which the island
of the Albiones lies.

Ast hinc duobus in sacram sic Insulam
Dixere prisci, solibus cursus rati est.
Hsec inter undas multum cespitem jatit
Eamque late gens Hibenorum colit
Propinqua rursusinsula Albionum patct —
Tartesiisque in terminos ^Estrumiiidum
Negociandi mos erat, Carthaginis
Etiam colonis, et vulgus inter Herculis
Agitans columnas hacc adibant sequora.

Avienus, De Or. Mar.

In this ancient poem, which has all the authority which can be
attributed to the ancient records of the annalists of any country, the
description of the place, the colonists, and the ancient trade — the
Sacred Island — its natives, with their manners, customs, and the
peculiarities of soil and climate — are traced with a truth which vindi-
cates the genuineness of the authority. The intercourse of the Phoeni-
cian colonies of Spain is marked with equal distinctness.

It has been, from considerations in no way recondite, proved bj
Heeren, that Ptolemy's geographical work, must have been derived from
Phoenician or Tyrian authorities.* It proves a knowledge of Ireland
* The fact appears from Ptolemy, who refers to Maximus Tyriug.

20 EARLY.

more minute and early than that of the other British isles. For while
his accounts are vitiated by numerous topographical errors in describing
these, his description of Ireland, on the contrary, has the minuteness
and accuracy of an elaborate personal survey. This, considering that
Ireland was at this period unknown within the bounds of the Roman
Empire, plainly shows the ancient as well as the intimate character
of his authority. This observation seems confirmed also by the
peculiarity of giving the old Celtic names to the localities of Ireland,
while Britain is described by the Roman names of places. Another
ancient geographer* states, that in the earlier periods of Phoenician
commerce, the western promontories of Europe were distinguished by
three sacred pillars, and known by ancient religious Celtic nanu s.
To these must be added the well-known testimony of Tacitus. In h is
Life ofAgricola, mentioning the conquest of Britain, he describes it
by its position opposite the coast of Hibernia. Describing the latter,
he mentions its position: " Medio inter Britanniam atque Hispaniam
sita, et Gallico quoque mari opportuna, valentissimam imperii partem

magnis nobilem usibus miscuerit Solum caeclumque, et ingenia

cultusque hominum, haud multum a Britannia differunt : Melius
aditus portusque per commercia et negociatores cogniti" The force
of the last sentence has been attempted to be removed, by referring
the word melius to the former clause of the sentence. The correction
has been justly rejected on consideration of style; it is still more ob-
jectionable, as it would destroy a sense confirmed by other authority,
for one at variance with all ; and, also, in some measure inconsistent
with the context of the historian, who begins his paragraph by the
emphatic description of the new conquest : " Nave prima transgressus,
ignotas ad id tempus gentes." It is indeed quite evident, that there is
a distinct and designed opposition between the two descriptive sen-
tences, of which the latter has a reference to the former. The roads
and ports, better known by commercial intercourse and to merchants,
is altogether, and even strikingly at variance with the nations un-
known till then. And the correction supposes a vagueness of style
inconsistent with the known character of the writer.

We cannot, in this discourse, dwell at greater length on a topic
capable of much extension, and have confined our notice to the more
generally known writers. We think, however, that it is quite suffi-
ciently (Conclusive, that there was an early intercourse between Phrc-
nician traders and Ireland; that there may also have been at some
period, of which the time cannot be distinctly ascertained, a Phoenician
colony settled in the island ; by whom, it is in a high degree probable,
the Phoenician language, letters, and religious rites, were introduced.
These we state as moderate inferences, from the authorities exempli-
fied in this section. Most of them, however, are more conclusively
inferred from other considerations.

Sanchoniathon, a reputed Phoenician historian, the supposed remains
of whose history are preserved by Eusebius, furnishes an account of
the early superstitions of the Phoenicians, which, by comparison, mani-
fest remarkable coincidences with those which can be traced to the

• Strabo.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 21

hoathen antiquity of Ireland. This work rests, however, on doubtful
grounds ; inasmuch as it is, by some learned writers, supposed to be
the forgery of Philo Byblius, its alleged translator from the Phoenician
original. This is therefore the point of importance. The nature and
value of the testimony to be derived from it, scarcely warrant a
minute and critical re-examination of the question: but we may state
the reasons on which it has been thought proper to set aside even this
quantum of our argument. The absence of all previous notice of a
work, affirmed to be written before the Trojan war, until its transla-
tion by Philo Byblius, seems to discredit the assertion of its previous
existence ; and this the more, as it seems only to have been brought
to light, by the only testimony we have for it, for the purpose of sup-
plying an argument against Christianity. These reasons are of no
weight: the obscurity of a Phoenician mythological work, in the time
of Philo, was too likely a circumstance to be made an objection of;
and the supposed argument is obliged to be given up, as unsustained
by his authority, by the acute Porphyry. The errors which have
been detected in the chronology, amount to no valid objection to the
genuineness of the work. Stillingfleet, who exposes them with much
learning and acuteness, does not think so. A copy of Sanchoniathon's
work is said to have been recently discovered in Germany, and
is now in process of translation.* The worship and early religious
opinions of the Phoenicians, as described by this author, so nearly
resemble the ancient superstitions of the heathen Irish, that the
attention of antiquaries was drawn to the subject, by the points of
resemblance, before actual investigation confirmed the conjecture of
their original causes of the resemblance. The worship of Baal may
be considered as a sufficiently authentic character of both, not, indeed,
resting on the authority of any doubtful writer. The Phoenicians
worshipped the sun under this name, and celebrated the vigil of their
annual festival by kindling a great fire: the same custom is familiar
to every one, who knows the country, as an Irish custom. Dr Par-
sons, who describes it with the accuracy of an antiquary, observes, " In
Ireland, the 1st of May is observed with great rejoicings by all those
original people through the kingdom ; and they call May-day Bealtine,
Beltine, or Balteine, the meaning of which is, " the fire of Baal."
Mr Plowden observes, that the " analogies and coincidences" between
the still existing customs of the Irish, and the history of Sanchoniathon,
are very striking; and, we would here observe, in addition to our
previous remarks on the genuineness of that ancient writer, that as it
could not have been forged for the purpose of this comparison, such
coincidences are, to a certain extent, confirmatory of its authority;
and, at all events, indicate a common fountain of authentic tradition
from which the history of the ancient Phoenician worship must have
been drawn. The Old Testament may have supplied an accurate
outline, but no more. It can scarcely be supposed to supply a clue to
details which are so faithfully reflected in the existing customs of the
Irish people. The sun and moon were, it appears, worshipped under
tlie appellations of Bel and Samhin; and O'Halloran has observed.

* Report of Proceedings in the Royal Irish Academy.

22 EARLY.

that the most cordial wish of blessing among the Irish peasantry is,
" The blessing of Samen and Bel be with you." The Latin translator
of Eusebius, remarks on the Phoenician word Bel Samen, that Baal
Schamain among the Hebrews has the same signification ; and Plow-
den remarks also, that in the Punic lines, to which we have already
referred, this familiar invocation of the great deity of the Phoenicians
twice occurs.

Plutarch mentions an island in the neighbourhood of Britain, in-
habited by a holy race of people. Diodorus is more particular: he
describes an island over against Gaul, which answers to the descrip-
tion of Ireland, both as to position and extent, as well as the habits
and peculiarities of its people. " This island," he says, " was dis-
covered by the Phoenicians, by an accidental circumstance ;" and adds,
" the Phoenicians, from the very remotest times, made repeated voyages
thither, for purposes of commerce."* He also mentions the rites of
sun-worship, the round temples, the study of the heavens, and the harp.
These particulars, Mr Moore thinks, he may possibly have learned from
the occasional report of Phoenician merchants; while he is at the same
time inclined to rank the hyperborean island of the historian, along with
his island of Panchea, and other such fabulous marvels. There is, we
admit, ground for this. But even allowing for the fictitious colouring,
which so largely qualifies the statements of this historian, we are on
our part inclined to estimate them by a principle, which, from the
extent of its application, cannot be lost sight of without mistake : the
value which separate testimonies derive from their concurrence with
universal consent.

The fanciful colouring of the writer is, in the class of cases here
supposed, invariably grounded on some origin in reality. To draw
the line between the fancy and the fact, might be impossible; but
the object is here different : our immediate argument does not
require the minute estimation of the writer's character, and the confir-
mation of every portion of his statement. Even the scenery and out-
line of a fable may be confirmatory or illustrative of the localities and
incidents of history; and, if the coincidence be sufficient, become
historical. The account of Diodorus, offered as history, has the suffi-
cient value of accordance with various notices and testimonies ; and ie
to be regarded as an indication of a received opinion, not in the
slightest degree impaired by the author's known lubricity of statement.
In the investigation of traditionary periods, no single statement can
be received as historically authentic. The object is rather of the
nature of that process which fixes a point, by the concurrence of the
lines which pass through it. The concurrence is the principal ground
of inference. It is, indeed, on the same principle, that to interpret
justly the remains of Irish antiquity, it becomes necessary to enlarge
the student's scope of investigation to the view of all antiquity. The
confident theory which stands upon a small basis of a few remote and
isolated facts, may be destroyed by the discovery of a single new in-
cident; and is depreciated by inferences, numerous in an inverse pro-
portion to the number of these data. It is not until the truth is recog-

* Quoted from Dalton's

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

nised, that the antiquity of Ireland is a fragment of universal anti-
quity, or utterly fallacious, that a catholic principle of historic inter-
pretation can be found to govern investigation, and put an end to the
thousand errors of partial views and inadequate inductions. The
reader, who appreciates the state of Irish ancient history, will easily
excuse our dwelling minutely on this consideration — in our history
so much more important than in that of any other modern state.

Of the ancient idolatry of the sun in Ireland, we have already
noticed some proofs. The festival of Samhin, one of the great
divinities, whose worship is said to have been imported into Phoenicia
from Samothrace, is clearly ascertained to have existed in Ireland, until
the very introduction of Christianity. Strabo, on the authority of some
ancient geographers, mentions an island near Britain, in which worship
is offered to Ceres and Proserpine, like to that in Samothrace. But
the reader, who may chance to be aware of the vast ocean of antiquarian
learning into which this branch of the argument must needs lead,
will see the necessity of our being summary in our notice of authorities.
Among the numerous indirect authorities which, by their descriptions
of the ancient religions of Eastern nations, enable us to pursue the
comparison of these with our own antiquity, the features of comparison
too often demand extensive discussion, and the application of critical
learning, to fall in with the popular discussion. Sanchoniathon, Hero-
dotus, and many other ancient names of the earliest geographers and
historians, enable the industrious antiquary to collect the real features
of Oriental antiquity. In the application of their authorities, there are,
it is true, some difficulties, arising from the fact of the common anti-
quity of so many early races. From this, some differences between
the ablest writers, and not a little uncertainty has arisen: the reader
is at first not a little confused by conjectures which appear to be dif-
ferent, while they are substantially the same ; that is, so far as any
question of the least importance is concerned. All agree in tracing
to an early Oriental origin, names, customs, and superstitions, distinctly,
and beyond all question, identified with the names, language, and local
remains of Irish antiquity.

The evidence becomes more really important, as less liable to various
or opposing comment, when traced in the actual remains of the ancient
native literature. Of this we do not feel it necessary to say much
here : it must be sufficient for the purpose, to say that it is now ad-
mitted to exist to a large extent ; and the genuineness of the most
considerable part is not questioned. From these, our ancient history
has been compiled by Keating, in a work which has been much, though
undeservedly, discredited, by the mistakes and interpolations of its
translator. Of this Vallancey says, " Many of these MS. were collected
into one volume, written in the Irish language, by Father Jeoff Keat-
ing. A translation of this work into English appeared many years
ago, under the title of Keating' 's History of Ireland. The translator,
entirely ignorant of ancient geography, has given this history an Eng-
lish dress, so ridiculous, as to become the laughing-stock of every
reader!" To this, amongst other such causes, may be attributed the
long unpopularity and the scepticism, now beginning to disappear.
The whole of these ancient materials correspond distinctly with the

24 EARLY.

ancient annais of Phoenicia, "translated out of the books of king
Hiempsal's library for Sallust ;" they agree with the ancient Armenian
history compiled by a writer of the fifth century ; and with many other
ancient traditions and histories of the several nations having a com-
mon affinity. But, what is more, they contain the most distinct de-
tails of the early migrations and history of many of these tribes now
extant.

Such is a slight sketch of a class of facts, which the reader, who
looks for distinct detail, will find amply discussed in numerous writers.
We only here desire to enforce the general probability in favour of
those writers, who, abandoning partial views, and taking the general
ground of historic principle, have adopted the more ancient view of
the origin of our native Irish race.

The most probable illustration of the text of ancient writers, is their
coincidence with the whole current of our national traditions; the
more valuable, because it is easy to perceive that such a coincidence
is altogether undesigned. The whole of these, again, is confirmed by
the remains of antiquity, which are thickly scattered through every
district. These last mentioned indications are indeed curiously mingled,
and present, at first view, a vast confusion of national monuments and
characteristics. But this confusion is not greater than, or in any way
different from, that of the varying traditions of our earlier ages.
Both are consistently and satisfactorily explained in one way, and in
no other. The accidental allusions of ancient foreign writers — -the
monuments of various and unlike races — the traditions bearing the
stamp of customs and superstitions of different ancient type,. — are all
the evident and distinct confirmations of a traditionary history, which
records the several invasions, settlements, changes, and incidents of
national intercourse, from which these indications might be inferred
as the necessary consequences. Now, if such an extended and various
adaptation does not amount to a proof of the general correctness ol
the ancient history, which our soundest antiquarian writers have in-
ferred from it, the sceptical writer may lay aside any degree of rea-
soning, inference, or apparent facts, which he pretends to possess, as
a worthless instrument and useless materials.

Not to enter into any premature detail, it is probable that the first
race of the ancient Celtic stock, retaining the more recent customs,
worship, and characters of Oriental antiquity, sooner or later (we are
only speaking of antecedent probability) received a fresh infusion of
Celtic blood, which had flowed farther from the primitive source;
thus adding, to the more ancient form of paganism, the more recent
characters of a more advanced and more corrupt idolatry. Other
colonies, at farther stages, brought the changes and left the monu-
ments of ages and climates far separated from the first. But these
changes were, for the most part, melted down into the prevailing tone
of nationality, preserved by the primitive population, which still con-
stituted the main body of the inhabitants; and whose native peculi-
arities of character gave one national impress to the whole. Such is
the view to be deduced from the comparison of indications, previous
to any consideration of national tradition. Before leaving this point,
it should be observed, that it is an important addition to the value of

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 25

the chains of coincidence thus explained, that they are all distinctive,
being exclusively characteristic of Irish history, and cannot therefore
be resolved by any general theories on the antiquity of modern Euro-
pean nations.

Antiquities. — Let us now offer a few examples, taken from among
the best known antiquities of the country, to give the reader a dis-
tinct idea of the materials for the latter part of this comparison.

The reader whose curiosity is sufficiently active, may find ample
information in recent and authoritative works ; and every day is now
adding to the abundance and distinctness of this information, under
the active and able investigations of the Ordnance Survey, and the anti-
quarian department of the Royal Irish Academy. The Rath, the
Cromlech, the Cairn, the Rocking-Stone, with various remains of
ancient weapons, utensils, and implements, offer abundant indications
of a far distant period in the antiquity of the human race. Of these,
many can be traced to other ancient nations, and these for the most
part the same to which tradition assigns the origin of some or other
of the races by which Ireland was anciently colonized. At a sitting
of the Royal Irish Academy, 9th April, 1 838, a letter from Dr Hibbert
Ware* was read, describing a Cromlech near Bombay, in India, dis-
covered by his son. As two very clever sketches accompany this
letter, the slightest inspection is sufficient to identify these Indian
remains, in character and intent, with the numerous similar ones ip
every district of this island. The same letter adverts to Maundrel's
similar discovery on the " Syrian coast, in the very region of the Phoeni-
cians themselves." At a previous meeting of the same learned body,
February 26, a very curious and interesting account was given by Mr
Petrie, of a remarkable collection of remains of this class, near the
town of Sligo. Amongst many interesting facts and observations con-
cerning these, Mr Petrie, after having mentioned that they contain
human bones, earthen urns, &c., and conjectured that they are the
burial places of the slain in battle, goes on to mention the highly
curious fact : — " Such monuments," he states, " are found on all the
battle-fields recorded in Irish history as the scenes of contest between
the Belgian or Firbolg and the Tuath de Danaun colonies;" after
which, Mr Petrie is stated to have observed, "as monuments of this
class are found not only in most countries of Europe, but also in the
East, Mr Petrie thinks that their investigation will form an important
accessory to the history of the Indo-European race, and also that such
an investigation will probably destroy the popular theories of their
having been temples and altars of the Druids."f In June, 1838, a
raper, read by Sir W. Betham, on the tumulus lately discovered in the
Phcenix Park, contains some observations not less confirmatory of the
?ame general view. From indications of an obvious nature, he refers
this class of monuments to a more remote antiquity, "at least of 3000
years " Sir W. Betham affirms it to be his opinion, that the sepul-
chral monument here alluded to chiefly, is similar to the ancient Crom-
lech, and affirms the opinion, that all Cromlechs are " denuded sepul

* To Sir W. Betham.
t Report of the Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy

26 EARLY.

cbral chambers." We might, were such an object desirable, enumerate
a large consent of authorities, and bring forward many cases ; we shall
only further mention, that Sir William Ousley discovered structures of
the same description in Persia; and it is not without value, as a con-
firmation, that the remarkable Cromlech near Cloyne, retains a name
significant of coeval ancient superstition, being called, in the Irish,
Carig Cruath, or Rock of the Sun. The Cromlech, by its construction,
seems to imply a command of mechanic resource, which must be re-
ferred to a very remote period. The management of the enormous
masses of rock which form these ancient structures, is little consistent
with any thing we know of the more recent antiquity, when wood and
hurdle were the only materials of building: but not wanting in ana-
logous character with the period of the Pyramids and Theban remains.
This observation applies with still more force to the rocking-stone,
of whieh many remains are yet found, some of which still retain their
balance. Of these, one stands not far from Ballina; another near
Lough Salt, in the county of Donegal ; there is also one in the county
Sligo, at Kilmorigan. The above inference, from structure, applies
with still more force to these, but their history offers a nearer approach
to the same inference.

The rocking-stone of the Egyptians is minutely described by Bryant,
and Pliny supplies a description still more exact — " Juxta Haspasus
oppidum Asiae, cautes stat horrenda, uno digito mobilis; eadem si
toto corpore impellatur, resistens." The same, or nearly similar, stones
are described by Sanchoniathon, as objects of Phoenician worship, and
are still imagined by them (in the writer's time) to have been con-
structed by the great god Onranos. These remains of ancient super-
stition, were, however, probably common to Pho3nicia, with every
Asiatic race, and therefore to be simply regarded as indications of
Eastern descent. They are found in Ireland, Wales, and Cornwall,
and have been described by travellers as having been met in various
parts of Asia.

The sacredness of hills is not peculiar to Irish, but known among
the remains of early superstitions common to the primitive races of
mankind. A more peculiar significance appears to belong to the
known sacredness attached to certain hills which stood upon the boun-
daries of provinces or kingdoms. A French writer,* cited by Mr
Moore, among the " holy mountains of Greece," " has enumerated
nearly a dozen, all bearing the name of Olympus, and all situated upon
frontiers." The custom is proved to have pervaded the early nations
of Asia ; and connects them, in a common worship of the very remotest
antiquity, with Ireland, in which the hill of Usneach, standing on the
common frontier of five provinces, has always been held sacred, from
the earliest times within the reach of inquiry. The sacredness of
hills is indeed attested by many ancient customs, of which authentic
traditions remain. Their kings were crowned on hills, and their laws
seem to have derived sanctity from having been enacted on sacred
heights.

The dedication of these artificial hills to the sun, is, however,

* Dulame, des Cultes anterieure a 1'Idolatrie, c. 8.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 27

probably a distinct appropriation, confined to those Eastern countries
in which the Cabini superstition prevailed. The more peculiar and
(looking1 to the earliest periods still) recent connexion between Ireland
and the East, will be observed to be indicated in the Irish names. The
probability of a Phoenician origin, for this appropriation, is increased,
by some traces of the same occurring in the mythological traditions
of other nations, whose early history has an undoubted connexion with
Pho3nicia.

The reverence shown towards stones by the ancient Irish, is a mark
of their Eastern descent. Of this there is one instance, of which the
tradition has a very peculiar interest. It follows the singular fortunes
of the stone on which the ancient kings of Ireland were crowned,
through its various removals, from Ireland to Scone, and from Scone
to Westminster, where it yet preserves its ancient place of honour in
the coronation of our monarchs. Of this curious history there is no
doubt, authority enough for the following notice.

" When the Tuatha de Danano came over, they brought with them"
four curiosities or monuments of great antiquity. The first was a
stone which was called Lia Fail, and was brought from the city of Fa-
lias ; from which stone that city received its name. This stone was
possessed of a very wonderful virtue, for it would make a strange
noise, and be surprisingly disturbed whenever a monarch of Ireland
was crowned upon it; which emotion it continued to show till the
birth of Christ, who contracted the power of the devil, and in a great
measure put an end to his delusions. It was called the Fatal Stone,
and gave a name to Inisfail, as the poet observes in these verses : —

From this strange stone did Inisfail obtain
Its name, a tract surrounded by the main.

This stone, called Lia Fail, had likewise the name of the Fatal Stone,
or the stone of destiny ; because a very ancient prophecy belonged to
it, which foretold, that in whatever country this stone should be pre-
served, a prince of the Scythian race, that is, of the family of Milesius,
king of Spain, should undoubtedly govern ; as Hector Boetius gives
the account, in his History of Scotland: —

Ni fallat fatum, Scoti quocunque locatum
Invenient lapidem, regnare tenenter ibidem.

In the Irish language it runs thus : —

Cineadh suit saor an fine munab breag an fhaisdine,
Mar abhfuigid an Lia fail dlighid flaithios do ghabhail.

In English: —

Unless the fixed decrees of fate give way,
The Scots shall govern, and the sceptre sway,
Where'er this stone they find, and its dread sound obey.

" WTien the Scythians were informed of the solemn virtue of this
stone, Fergus the great, the son of Earca, having subdued the king-
dom, resolved to be crowned upon it. For this purpose^ he sent mes-
sengers to his brother Mortough, the son of Earca, a descendant from

28 EARLY.

Heremond, who was king of Ireland at that time, to desire that he
would send him that stone to make his coronation the more solemn,
and to perpetuate the succession in his family. His brother willingly
complied with his request; the stone was sent, and Fergus received
the crown of Scotland upon it. This prince was the first monarch of
Scotland of the Scythian or Gadelian race ; and, though some of the
Picts had the title of kings of Scotland, yet they were no more than
tributary princes to the kings of Ireland, from the reign of Heremond,
who expelled them the kingdom of Ireland, and forced them into Scot-
land, where they settled. Fergus therefore was the first absolute
monarch of Scotland, who acknowledged no foreign yoke, nor paid any
homage to any foreign prince. This stone of destiny was preserved
with great veneration and esteem, in the abbey of Scone, till Edward
the First of England carried it away by violence, and placed it under
the coronation chair in Westminster Abbey, by which means the pro-
phecy that attended it seems to be accomplished; for the royal family
of the Stewarts succeeded to the throne of England soon after the re-
moval of this stone ; a family that descended lineally from the Scythian
race, from Maine Leamhna, son of Core, king of Munster, son of
Luighdheach, son of Oilioll Flanbeg, son of Fiacha Muilleathan, king
of Munster, son of Eogan Mor, son of Oilioll Ollum, king of Munster.
who descended lineally from Heberus Fionn, son of Milesius, king of
Spain; every prince of which illustrious family successively received
the crown upon this stone."*

In fine. There is nothing more satisfactorily confirming the
general truth of the accounts contained in the ancient tradition of
Irish antiquity, than its strict conformity with the general analogy of
human history. And this is so clear, as to admit of being stated as an
extensive system of social institutions, manners, opinions, incidents,
and events, which no human ingenuity could have framed together in
all its parts, and so combined with existing remains, as to challenge
not a single authoritative contradiction. If this vast and well devised
combination be attributed to the invention of the bards, it assumes for
these so much moral, civil, and political knowledge, as would do much
ho i our to the discipline and experience of the 19th century. If
it be attributed to the imagination of antiquarian theorists, we must
say, that the most fanciful, credulous, and superstitious legendaries, have,
after all, displayed more skill, method, and consummate wisdom, in
devising a political and moral system, than their sober opponents
have shown in detecting their error and credulity. And we should
strongly advise our modern constitution-menders, and constructors of
history, to take a lesson at their school.

That the language of the bards is largely combined with fiction,
is no more than to say — that they were poets ; and the poetry of the
age and country, as well as the state of the profession, led to a vast
increase of this tendency; that the legends of the monks were over-
flowing with romance and superstition; and that the sober-paced
annalists, to a great extent, falsified their records, by omission ; and
partial statement. All this may be admitted, The manifest fictions

* Keating.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 29

and extra vacancies, and anachronisms, may be allowed to prove so much.
But the admission does not unsettle a single support, or shake down
the slightest ornament, which belongs to the main structure of the
ancient history of Ireland. The sceptic has to account rationally, not
only for the history itself, but for the language, and the very letters,
in which it is written ; and must adopt a chain of denials, affirma-
tions, and reasonings, of the most abstruse, inventive, and paradoxical
kind, to establish the falsehood of traditions, which, had they no proof,
are yet the most likely to be the truth, and are quite unobjectionable
on the general ground of historic probability.

On the fictions of the ancient legends, it is, however, well remarked
by Sir Lawrence Parsons,* that they generally affect the opinions of the
writers, and ndt their veracity, as they most commonly consist of
extravagant explanations of common and probable incidents. Such
are the varied narrations, in which the various calamities of sickness,
famine, fire, flood, or storm, are ascribed to the magicians. If indeed
the portion of common probability in the most fictitious legends be
acceded to, as the necessary foundations of popular invention, there
will be nothing worth contending for.

To sum briefly the general inferences to be drawn from the state-
ments of our antiquaries, as to the origin of the Irish nation: As
their letters and ancient language and traditions, are standing monu-
ments of immemorial antiquity; as these are confirmed by a great
variety of lesser, but still decided, indications to the same effect; we
must conclude, that the people to which they belong, are a race
derived from very ancient stock. Secondly, as there is no distinct
tradition, assigning the origin of this race to any probable period,
within those limits of time which commence the records of modern
nations, it is to be inferred, as most likely, that this ancient people
have sprung up from some earlier origin within the prior limits of
ancient history.

If so, they must have derived those immemorial traditions, letters,
language, and barbaric civilization, from that remote and primitive
antiquity, and that ancient Eastern stock, of which they bear the decided
characters. And the assumption may be taken, by antiquaries, as
the solid basis of research, and probable conjecture. If these intro-
ductory remarks were indeed written to meet the eye of learned
antiquaries, it must be observed, that these reasons would now be
needless. Among the learned, there can scarcely be said to be a
second opinion, so far as regards the main line of our argument.
But with the vast and enlightened body of the reading public, it is, as
we have already stated, otherwise. The claim of Irish history is
regarded with a supercilious suspicion, very justifiable among those
who know nothing of Irish antiquities.

Ancient State. — The reader will easily collect the political consti-
tution of ancient Ireland, from our notices of the kings in whose reigns
were effected the successive steps of its formation. We may here

* The MS. of our half volume was unfortunately completed, when we received a
copy of this Essay, by far the ablest on the subject. We have thus lost many con-
clusive arguments.

30 EARLY.

make this easier by a few general facts. To Eochaidh Eadguthach is
referred the first step in the process of social institution on which all
civilization rests as a foundation : the regulation of ranks and orders,
without which a crowd of men can become no more than a herd of
wild beasts, levelled in the brutal disorder of promiscuous equality.*
Legislation began with Oliamh Fodla, and subsequent kings effected
various improvements and modifications, from which the historian can
easily trace the prosperity and adversity of after ages.

There were six orders — the royal, aristocratic, priestly, poetical,
mechanic and plebeian ; of these, viewed as composing the body politic,
they are more summarily distributed into kings, priests, and people:
who assisted, or were represented, in the great assembly, or Fes.

The monarchy was elective, but the election was, by the law at least,
limited to the members of the royal family. From this many evils
arose; one consequence, however, may be enough to mention here:
the tendency of the succession to assume an alternate order, such that,
on the death of a monarch, he was succeeded by the son of his pre-
decessor.

The disorders appurtenant to the elective principle, were in some
degree limited, by the election of the successor of the monarch, or the
chief (for the same rule of succession was general), at the time of their
succession. This person was, in the case of the monarchy, called the
Hoydamna; in that of chiefs, the Tanist; and in both cases was en-
dowed with proportional honours and privileges. " As to the law of
Tanistry, by an inquisition taken at Mallow on the 25th of October
1594, before Sir Thomas Norris, vice-president of Munster, William
Saxey, Esq., and James Gould, Esq., chief and second justices of the
said province, by virtue of a commission from the Lord-Deputy and
Council, dated the 26th of June before; it is found, among other
things, " that Conogher O'Callaghan, the O'Callaghan, was and is
seized of several large territories, in the inquisition recited, in his de-
mesne, as lord and chieftain of Poble-Callaghan, by the Irish custom,
time out of mind used ; that as O'Callaghan aforesaid is lord of the
said country, who is Teig O'Callaghan, and that the said Teig is
seized as Tanist by the said custom of several Plowlands in the inqui-
sition mentioned ; which also finds, that the custom is further, that
every kinsman of the O'Callaghan had a parcel of land to live upon,
and yet that no estate passed thereby, but that the lord (who was then
Conogher O'Callaghan) and the O'Callaghan for the time being, by
custom time out of mind, may remove the said kinsman to other lands ;
and the inquisition further finds, that O'Callaghan Mac Dermod,
Tirelagh O'Callaghan, Teig Mac-Cahir O'Callaghan, Donogho Mac
Thomas O'Callaghan, Conogher Genkagh O'Callaghan, Dermod
Bane O'Callaghan and Shane Mac- Teig O'Callaghan, were seized of
several Plowlands according to the said custom, subject, nevertheless,
to certain seigniories and duties payable to the O'Callaghan, and that
they were removeable by him to other lands at pleasure."!

• We would not be understood to assert that this absolute equality ever existed.
It is manifestly inconsistent with any state of human nature, until we reach that low
level out of which no civilization can take its rise.

f Ware's Antiquities.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 31

The religion of the heathen Irish was, as the reader will have col-
lected, an idolatry of a mingled form, to which many successive addi-
tions had been made by different races of the same general type.
Their chief god was the sun, or Bel the god of the sun.

Of the manners, arts, and knowledge of the first periods of Irish
antiquity, we shall here say little, as it has long been the popular
portion of the subject, on which most general information abounds,
and on which the scepticism of the public is little involved.

The bards were divided into three orders: — the Filea, the Senea-
chie, and the Brehon. They were historians, legislators, and antiqua-
ries. They enlightened and soothed the privacy of kings and chiefs,
roused their valour, and celebrated their deeds in the field.

Poetry was in the highest esteem: it comprised the learning, philo-
sophy, and history, of the primitive forms of society. The poets were
rewarded, caressed, and the exercise of their art regulated and re-
strained, as of the highest importance to the transmission of records, or
the extension and perpetuation of fame. But the influence which they
acquired over the passions of men was found to be excessive. The
poet, and perhaps above all, the Celtic bard, when allowed to become
in any way the organ of political feeling, has a tendency to faction,
not to be repressed by discretion. The bower " where

" Pleasure sits carelessly smiling at fame"

is his most innocuous sphere, until his head and heart have been en-
lightened and enlarged by true Christian philosophy. The sword
which may haply lurk within the flowery wreath, while its occasional
sparkles are seen to glitter through the fragrant interstices, may give
spirit, and an undefined charm, to the emanation of grace and sweetness
which delights the sense. But to abandon a metaphor, with which an
Irish bard of the highest order has supplied us; wo betide the land
where the passions of party shall have caught the fever of poetic in-
spiration! The throne of poetic genius is, in our eyes, sovereign: but
the hearts it can move to action, are never of the noblest order, and
the passions it can awaken best, are not those which conduce most to
the furtherance of sober truth, the peace of society, or the happiness
of the human race.

Music has, perhaps in every age, had its fountain in the Irish tem-
perament. It may perhaps be admitted as a fact by those who have an
extensive knowledge of music, that the most perfect specimens of that
part of musical expression which depends on the fine melody of an air,
belong to the national music of the Celtic races. The ancient'music of
the Irish is celebrated by all writers in Irish history; but music and
poetry appear to have been inseparably united in the same class of
professors.

The introduction of Christianity changed the uses and, with these,
the character of both these kindred arts. The Danes crushed them,
together with the whole, nearly, of the graces and refinements of the
primitive civilization of Ireland. Yet they lingered on still, and being
deeply seated in the genius of their race, continued to shoot bright,
but fugitive gleams, among the dust and ashes of national decay.

EARLY.

Corinac, the celebrated king and bishop of Minister ; was a poet, and
the harp of Brian still exists,

" Though the days of the hero are o'er.'1

We shall, hereafter, have occasion to offer a sketch of the history
of the Irish bards.

The ancient architecture of Ireland has been too much the sub-
ject of controversy, to be discussed in an essay not designed for the
purpose of inquiry. There is sufficient reason to conclude, that dwell-
ings were constructed of wood.

" The subject of my inquiry, here, is only of the dwelling-houses of
the ancient Irish, which, as they were neither made of stone nor
brick, so neither were they (unless in a few instances) subterraneous
caves or dens, like the habitations of the ancient Germans, according to
Tacitus, in his description of that people ; but they were made of rods
or wattles, plaistered over with loam or clay, covered with straw or
sedge, and seldom made of solid timber. These buildings were either
large or small, according to the dignity or quality of the inhabitant,
and for the most part were erected in woods, and on the banks of rivers."*

Of the handicraft arts of the earlier age of antiquity, we are left
to the inferences we can draw from the regulations of the mechanic
class, which are such, as to indicate a superior attention to the
various manufactures then employed. These chiefly consisted of
articles of arms, dress, religious, and perhaps culinary uses. If we
give any credit to the descriptions of regal state, and the enumerations
of articles contained in the writings of the bards, these uses appear to
have been various and splendid.

From the same sources, gleams of manners are to be collected.
These are such as might be inferred both from the state and natural
genius of the people. But the subject is too merely inferential, to find
a place here.

Of their moral knowledge, a highly favourable idea may be collected
from an ancient writing, of unquestionable authenticity, by Cormac,
the son of Art. Of this too, we shall hereafter give a large specimen.

The traditionary history of ancient lerne may be comprehended
in a narrow compass : for, though bards have engrafted on it much
poetic invention, it is nothing more in itself than an old table of
descents

It appears probable that the first inhabitants of Ireland were from
Britain and Gaul. To this source may be referred the Wernethae,
Firbolgs, Danaans, and Fomorians. Of these the settlements were
probably various, and at various periods. The Belgians, who were a
Gaulish stock, and having numerous settlements in England, were the
principal among these. Their possession continued eighty years, in
the form of a pentarchy, under the paramount government of one. At
the end of the period here mentioned, the island was invaded by the
Tuath de Danaans and Fomorians, who overthrew the Belgians in a
pitched battle, and made themselves masters of the whole country.

* Ware's Antiquities.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION'.

1 he occupation of this race lasted one hundred and ninety-eight. years.
Their power was put an end to by the arrival of the Scythian, or
Scottish race, a thousand years before the Christian era.

The frequent invasions of Spain, at this period, by the neighbouring
Eastern nations, seems to account for the migration of this colony,
which had been settled in the northern parts of Spain. A race, to
which navigation was already known, and which had already been
separated, by one migration, from the parent stock, was the more
likely, under such circumstances as rendered their settlement insecure,
to have recourse to the same means, for the attainment of a settle-
ment more secure, beyond the reach of their persecutors.

According to the most ancient records, collected in the ninth cen-
tury, by the celebrated king of Munster, and corrected by a careful
comparison of all the records and traditions then extant, it would
appear, that the Spanish Celts, intent on discovering a new home>
sent a chief to obtain intelligence as to the expedience and possibility
of a descent on this island. The purpose of this envoy was discovered,
and he was put to death ; on which the sons of Milesius, roused by
resentment to decision, made extensive preparations, and effected the
conquest of the country.

From these the Scots of Ireland claim their descent. They were a
race possessing the letters and civilization of their parent stock — a fact
authenticated beyond question, by the letters, monuments, and even
the legends of Irish antiquity, which are the remains of a civilized
and lettered race.

Of the various methods which might be used in confirmation of this,
the most suitable to the cursory design of this essay, is that afforded
by the industry of O' Conor, which we shall here give, as it occurs in
his work on Irish history.

The earliest accounts of foreign nations (as illustrated by Sir Isaac
Newton), compared with those of Ireland : —

FOREIGN TESTIMONIES. THE NATIVE FILEAS.

I. I.

* An emigrant colony of Iberians, * The Iberian Scots, bordering

from the borders of the Euxine and originally on the Euxine sea, were

Caspian seas, settled anciently in
Spain.

II.

f A colony of Spaniards, by the
name of Scots or Scythians, settled
in Ireland, in the fourth age of the
world.

III.

J The Phoenicians, who first in-
troduced letters and arts into Europe,
had an early commerce with the Ibe-
rian Spaniards.

* Rudas ex Appian, in ^Eneid., lib. ix.,
ad ver. 582.

•f- Ne\vton. Buchanan. J Strabo.
I.

expelled their country; and, after
various ad ventures,. settled ultimately
in Spain.

II.

* Kinea Scuit (the Scots), and the
posterity of Ebre Scot (Iberian Scy-
thians), were a colony of Spaniards,
who settled in Ireland about a thou-
sand years before Christ.

III.

* The ancient Iberian Scots learned
the use of letters from a celebrated
Phenias, from whom they took the
name of Phenii, or Phoenicians.

* All the statements on this side, are
from a very ancient Irish manuscript,
called the Lenbar Cabala.

Ir.

34 EARLY.

Passing1 over three other similarly compared statements, in which
Newton's accounts are remarkably coincident with those of the old
Irish historian, we come to the last, which has more especial refer-
ence to the statement we have made : —

In the days of the first Hercules, The conquest of Spain, together
or Egyptian conqueror of Spain, a with a great drought, forced the Ibe-
great drought parched up several rian Scuits, or Scots, to fly into Ire-
countries. — Newton. land — Ogyg. Domest., p. 182.

If the genuineness of the old Irish MSS. be allowed, and they are
not disputed, these parallels require no comment ; but amount to proof,
as certain as the records of history can afford, of the facts in which
they agree. The only reply of which the argument admits, is, that
Newton's accounts are drawn from the old Irish ; and this no one will
presume to assert.

In these old records of the Fileas, it is granted that there is a mix-
ture of fiction; but it is such as to be easily sifted away from the
main line of consistent history which runs through the whole, with
far more character of agreement with ancient writers, than the native
records of any other existing nation. The fictions are connected by
visible links, and traceable coincidences with the truth.

In the tradition of the earliest kings or chiefs, under whatever de-
nomination, much is manifestly fictitious; and, in some measure, im-
parts a legendary character to the whole. But a consideration of the
remote period, the simplicity of the records, and, generally, the absence
of opposing traditions, confirms their claim to be regarded as authentic.
We may indeed add, the general consent of the numerous learned
antiquarians and critics who have laboriously investigated every doubt-
ful point. The ancient Irish historians, upon authorities of which it is
difficult to pronounce the true value, reckon a long line of kings, from
Slainge, the son of Dela, to Cfiomthan Madhnac, in the twelfth year
of whose reign the Christian era is supposed to have commenced. Of
these accounts it is not improbable, that much that is true forms the
nucleus of much fiction, such as would be most likely to mingle itself,
from a variety of causes, in the course of traditions handed down from
generation to generation, and to be fixed in the form of records by the
excusable credulity of their first compilers. But it would be an unpar-
donable waste of time and expense, to encumber our pages with live*
which, whether the persons ever lived or not, are manifestly overlaid
with statements which cannot, in possibility, be authentic. Some emi-
nent names among these are, however, liable to recur frequently in Irish
history; and are supposed to stand at the fountain-head of those politi-
cal institutions and arrangements, which are among the most interesting:
facts of Irish antiquity. Of these a few may be considered as useful
preliminaries to our first biographical period.

In the year of the world 3082, Ollamh Fodla is represented as
monarch of Ireland. He is said, with much reason, to have been the
wisest and most virtuous of the Irish kings. The most useful laws and
institutions, which can be traced in the historical records of the ancient.
Irish, are attributed to his profound design, and to the wisdom of his
celebrated council, held in the ancient kingly seat of Tara.

The account of this assembly is the following : — Ollamli Fodla, with

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 35

the natural forecast of a sagacious legislator, and the zeal of a habi-
tual student of antiquity, observed, that the records of his kingdom
were in a state not likely to be durable. The honour of his illustri-
ous ancestors — the events worthy of perpetual note, on which it was
his pleasure to dwell — and the glorious name which it was his hope to
transmit — all forbade the neglect of any longer leaving the records
of his kingdom to the growing obscurity of tradition. To deliver to
posterity a faithful digest of the known traditions of former time,
and provide for its authentic continuation, he summoned the chiefs,
priests, and poets of the nation, to meet in council at Tara.

This assembly he rendered permanent. It was called Feis Fea-
mhrach, and was to meet every third year. Their first business was to
collect, clear from error, and digest into order, the mass of extant
records and traditions of the kingdom. Next, they were to revise the
laws; and, by suitable additions, omission, and alteration, accommo-
date them to the age. They carefully read over every ancient chron-
icle, and erased any falsehoods they could detect. A law was agreed
on, that any falsifier of history should be degraded from that assem-
bly— be fined, imprisoned, and his works destroyed.

With the assistance of this assembly, Ollamh regulated the differ-
ent orders of rank amongst its members. He also made laws for the
respect of their dignity, and protection of their persons. A still more
important law was made for the protection of his female subjects,
against the ungallant violence to which there appears to have been a
national propensity in that remote age. For this, the offender was to
suffer a merited death ; to ensure which the more effectually, Ollamh
placed the crime beyond the reach of the royal prerogative to pardon.

Keating, who has somewhat strangely fixed the meeting of this
parliament before the comparatively modern festival of " All Saints,"
describes, with great minuteness of detail, the long but narrow apart-
ment in the palace of Tara, where this parliament used to meet. Be-
fore proceeding to business, they were entertained with a magnificent
feast ; in the description of which, the whole colouring and incidents
are manifestly drawn from imaginations filled with the pomps and
splendours of British and European customs in the middle ages.
After the feast was removed, and the attendants withdrawn, the
ancient records were introduced and discussed, as the annalist of the
period would now describe it, " over their nuts and claret." From
this assembly is deduced the ancient Psalter of Tara; which ancient
record, says Keating, " is an invaluable treasure, and a most faithful
collection of the Irish antiquities; and whatever account is delivered
in any other writings, repugnant to this, is to be deemed of no autho-
rity, and a direct imposition upon posterity."

Ollamh Fodhla reigned, according to O'Conor, six hundred years
before the Christian era. The events of his time cannot be consid-
ered as within the compass of authentic history; yet his reign itself
is sufficiently authenticated by the sure evidence of institutions. He
was to Ireland the first legislator; and his name and character stand
out from the surrounding obscurity, with the same clear and steady
light which has preserved so many of the greater sages, heroes, and
bards, of primitive times, to the veneration of all ages.

36 EARLY.

The political constitution of the country, as settJeci in this reign,
may be generally included under three heads: the institution of the
Fes, or legislative assembly; the enactment of a code of laws; and the
precise and orderly distribution of the orders of society. The classes
were three: the nobility, the druids and learned men, and the com-
mon people. In an age in which literature was still confined to a
privileged class, it is easy at once to perceive the impossibility of long
preserving the balance required for the stability of any form of
government. The main disadvantage, however, of this ancient con-
stitution consisted in the crown being elective. Of this the conse-
quence is noticed by O'Conor. " It is evident that such elections
could seldom be made with sufficient moderation. Factions were
formed ; the prevalent party carried it ; the losing party collected all
their strength to set aside the monarch duly elected ; and accordingly
most of our princes died with swords in their hands."

It is, perhaps, also not unimportant to observe, that the frame of
government, thus described, is stamped with the authentic features
of the common type of primitive institutions. The system of a bal-
anced combination of orders is itself, not to look further, a sufficient
indication of a forward stage in the progress of civilization; and
should the mere idea of such a system be found extant in really
ancient records, or should it, with sufficient distinctness, be trace-
able in old customs and traditions, it ceases to be worth the sceptic's
while to contend. " But whatever," says Leland, " were the institu-
tions of this monarch, it is acknowledged they soon proved too weak
for the disorders of the time. To Kimbath, one of his successors, an-
nalists give the honour of reviving them," after a long period of mis-
rule. This work of renovation was still advanced by his successor
Hugony, who divided the island into twenty-five dynasties.

Three hundred and fifty-two years elapsed from the reign of Ollamh
— and some dozen kings, of whom many, by their adventures, as related
by the ancient poets, might be classed with the " Three Calendars,
Princes' Sons," and other heroes of Eastern poesy, followed each other
over the bloody stage of an elective monarchy, the prize of arms — when
Hugony, or Ugaine, a descendant of the royal line of Heremon, obtained
the crown, by killing the reigning monarch, Reachta Rigdhearg ; and
if precedent might be pleaded in its favour, the claim was legitimate.
Of these murders, most might be represented as bearing the character
of retributive justice: but Reachta had ascended the throne by the
murder of a female sovereign, who is described as the delight of her
subjects, and the terror of her enemies. Of this worthy lady it is
recorded that she beat the horses of Connor, king of Ulster, in a race,
and was delivered of twins at the winning-post. Irritated by her
sufferings, and by the cruelty which had forced or persuaded her to
incur this trying risk, she cursed the men of Ulster, who were, in con-
sequence, for many years afflicted with similar pains !

Ugony strengthened the monarchy, by the important measure of
dividing the kingdom into provinces. The immediate disorders which
led to this useful arrangement are not of any interest, further than the
light their history might throw on its necessity. But the history of
so remote a period, with whatever degree of probability we may trace

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 37

its outline, is by no means as clear in the details. The ancient poets re-
late a story of the oppressive exactions of his twenty-five sons, which at
length drew forth a strong remonstrance from his subjects. Whether to
remedy this evil, as is said (or sung), or to facilitate the levy of taxes,
Hugony assembled his council, and by their advice divided the king-
dom into twenty-five provinces, which he divided among the princes.
By this distribution the revenue was ascertained, the inferior juris-
dictions controlled and limited, and the royal power entrenched against
the undue preponderance of provincial princes. To measure truly the
magnitude of such a change, it must be noticed, that it was a violent
interference with the rights of the five powerful princes who had
hitherto held the five provinces into which the island had been till
then divided. But Hugony was a warlike monarch, and a conqueror
by sea and land, and in his reign the powers of the monarchy seem to
have been extended. Another feature curiously illustrative of the
character and position of this monarch, was his attempt to set aside all
rival claims, and to have the succession fixed in his own family. The
attempt had the usual success ; it was easy to exact compliance, and
impossible to carry into effect a law, which was to fix the bounds of
lawless usurpation. In this instance, as in most such, the provision
failed; and on his death, the stream of succession soon regained its
blood-stained and uncertain course.

The learned institutions, lost during this long reign of disorder —
during which the island is said to have narrowly escaped a Roman in-
vasion— were revived in the reign of Concovac MacNessa, king of Ulster.
Under this able prince a great step of improvement was gained in the
regulation of judicial proceedings — now first fixed by written pleading
and records. The laws, which had hitherto been administered on the
arbitrary discretion of the bards, were now, at the instance of this
ruler, compiled into a clear and equitable digest — triumphantly re-
ceived by the people, and, in the poetical language of the age, called
"celestial decisions." Neither this wise constitutional measure, nor the
succession of many able rulers, could save the island from the frequent
reverses, which our space must exclude.

The next we shall mention is memorable for another remarkable
alteration in the divisions of the monarchy. He is also distinguished
from those we have as yet noticed, by having reigned within the
Christian era ; his claim is further recommended by measures for the
improvement of the national records.

Tuathal " made his way to the throne through a sea of blood, and esta-
blished a new constitution on the ruins of a monarchical oligarchy." *
The historical importance of this monarch's reign is sufficient to de-
mand a little more expansion than we should have thought necessary
in any of the previous reigns. But the reader's attention is the more
specially invited to the narration of incidents which explain many of
those constantly recurring allusions to ancient institutions, which per-
plex the recital of most of our historians of the ensuing periods, and

* O'Conor. Dissertations.

38 EARLY.

encumber their historic style with a contusion and obscurity, winch
none but the most attentive reader can unriddle.

The restoration of the pentarchy quickly produced disorders similar
to those which a similar oligarchy will be seen to have produced in
later periods. The violence of competition, ever attendant on elective
monarchies, grew in the immediately preceding reigns to an enormous
height, and the sufferings of the people became intolerable. Cairbre
Catean overturned the government, and for a time held the sceptre
with a despotic grasp. His death only renewed the sanguinary con-
tention for power. The provincial kings set up the tyrant Elim,
through whom they jointly oppressed the land. Sufferance had
reached its limit: — the inferior chiefs who shared in the oppressions
of the people, excited and gave direction to their resentment. They
sent an invitation to Tuathal, in Scotland, where he had grown to
maturity, and received a careful education, his mother Eithne, having
been daughter to the Scottish king.

Tuathal consented, came over, and, after a sanguinary struggle,
obtained the throne of his ancestors. His first act was the convention
of the council of the nation, and obtaining a law to secure himself by
the exclusion of other families. He remedied the grievances of an
oppressive oligarchy, by an expedient which increased his own power,
and weakened that of the formidable Five: taking from each a
large district, he united the portions thus secured into a province
for himself — a measure which insured a considerable increase of
wealth and power to the monarchy. He established in each of
these an administrative centre for the transaction of the several
departments of his government: — Religion at Tlachtga* near*Dro-
gheda; internal commerce at Usneach in the county of Westmeath;
at the palace of Tailtean, matrimonial alliances, from which, there is
reason to think, he drew a considerable tax; Tara was the place for
the great assembly of the Fes.

Tuathal, by his marriage with a daughter of the king of Finland,
commenced or continued the intercourse of this island with the
northern races who inhabited the Baltic coasts. This marriage led
to an increased intercourse, and to subsequent alliances which were, at
a remote period, to terminate in a long and ruinous struggle, under
which the power of the monarchy, and the civilization of the country,
were to sink into ruin, and nearly into oblivion.

The imposition of the celebrated Boromean tribute gives Tuathal
another claim on historic recollection. It is said to have been exacted
from the province of Leinster, as an atonement for the death of his
two daughters, who lost their lives in consequence of the most brutal
insult from the king of Leinster. As the story runs, this provincial
king being married to Darine, one of Tuathal's daughters, pretended
that she was dead, and thus obtained possession of the other, whose
name was Fithir. When Fithir arrived at the palace of Eochaidh,
she was struck with consternation by the appearance of her sister
Darine: the sisters at once discovered the dishonour and injury they
had each sustained, and their grief was sufficient to put an end to

* This wa» the place where the sacred fire was kindled.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 39

their lives. Tuathal levied his forces, and representing the baseness
of Eochaidh's conduct, to the other princes, a universal sense of indig-
nation was excited; and so numerous was the army thus obtained, that
the king of Leinster submitted, and entreated to be allowed to com-
promise the matter. Tuathal, either having the peace of his kingdom
at heart, or as is far more likely, a prudent disposition to avail himself
of every occasion for the furtherance of his scheme of political ag-
grandizement, consented to withdraw his army, on obtaining a pledge
of consent from the king and people of Leinster, to pay a stipulated
tribute every second year, to him and his successors for ever. The
proposal was agreed to, and the tribute appointed was as follows, in
the words of an old poet : —

" To Tuathal and the monarch's after him :

Threescore hundred of the fairest cows,

And threescore hundred ounces of pure silver,

And threescore hundred mantles, richly woven,

And threescore hundred of the fattest hogs,

And threescore hundred of the largest sheep,

And threescore hundred cauldrons, strong and polished."

This tax was known by the name of Boroimhe Laighean (the tribute
of Leinster), and is said to have been paid to forty Irish monarch s,
from Tuathal to Fianactha.

Tuathal caused a general revision of the annals of the monarchy,
with a view to amend the errors which had latterly been supposed to
have been caused by the unconstitutional influence of the provincial
oligarchy, who had so long kept the nation in disorder. Such a
solemn act was also necessary for the purpose of fixing their authority,
and might be considered as supplying, in a minor degree, the evidence
imparted to religious documents, by the solemn publicity of a regular
perusal, in the presence of the people, at stated times and places.

Amongst other wise public measures, Tuathal is said to have con-
trived the important arrangement of classifying the mechanics of the
country into companies, governed by their committees, and, as nearly
as possible, resembling the corporate institutions of modern burghs.

This great monarch was, with the common fate of his predecessors,
slain by Mail, who succeeded.

It is not our design to pursue the long line of princes who fol-
lowed, to the introduction of Christianity, but simply to note, as we
glance down this long line, such traditions as may be useful for the
understanding of Irish history, or interesting to reasonable curiosity.

From Rosa, the eldest son of Cathaoir More, is said to be traced
the family of O'Connor Faly, or Failghe. Many other well known
Irish families are similarly traced from the same stock. Concerning
these old genealogies, we cannot pretend to have had either the
means or the will to trace them: we see, however, no sound reason
for throwing a doubt on them. We are yet inclined to think that,
like all our ancient records, while they are in the main not false, they
have yet been subject to the singularly fantastic freaks of Irish enthu-
siasm and fancy.

Conn of the hundred battles, reigned, fought his hundred fights,

40 EARLY. .

and was assassinated early in the second century; his reign is, how-
ever, rendered memorable by a territorial arrangement, which long
continues to be a subject of allusion in Irish history. A war arose
between Modha Nuagat, and some other princes, for the throne of
Munster. Of these latter, one named Aongus, applied for aid to the
monarch Conn. Conn complied, and supplied the prince with 15,000
men; but the laurels won in ninety battles, were torn from his brow
in ten sanguinary defeats, and in the course of this dreadful war, the
conqueror Modha obtained possession of half the kingdom. From
this conquest, the southern portion of the country still retains a title
from the conqueror's name. His acquisition became the basis of a
regular partition, of the boundaries of which we are happily enabled
to transcribe an interesting account, from the most intelligent mind,
and graphic pen, that has ever attempted to sketch the localities of
Ireland.

" Proceeding onwards for a mile or two, from Clonard, the road
reaches a long continuous line of gravel hills, along which it runs for
a considerable distance, and which is, perhaps, one of the oldest
lines of road in Europe. These long lines of gravel hills are, all
through Ireland, called aisgirs, or properly eirscirs; this one is that
which formed, in ancient times, the grand division of Ireland. I think
1 could trace this eiscir, from Dublin bay to the green hills of
Crumlin, and so along by the Eskir of Lucan, then south of the Liffey
near Celbridge, and so across the river near Clane, onwards by
Donadea, until it strikes the line of road we are now travelling ; then
bending southwards of the hill of Croghan, until near Phillipstown,
another line of road takes the advantage of its elevation, to run
between two bogs ; then passing through the barony of Garrycastle,
in the King's county, in a very distinct line, it strikes the Shannon,
in the exact centre of the island, at Clonmacnois. This very curious
natural vallum, just as distinct as the great Roman wall dividing
south Britain from Caledonia, was adopted as the dividing line
between the two parts of Ireland, and was called Eiscir Riada, ex-
tending from Dublin to Galway, the northern portion being called
Leath Con, and the southern Leath Mogha."*

Modha went the natural way of Irish kings, being murdered in his
bed by Conn of the hundred fights; and Conn himself soon after
met the like fate. King Conary, who followed, may be mentioned as
the ancestor of a Caledonian line of kings. He married the daughter
of king Conn, and had by her a son, Cairbre Riada, who, in the middle
of the third century, led a colony into Scotland, and founded, in Argyle-
shire, a settlement, which is reasonably concluded to have had from
him its name of Dalriada. His descendant, in the ninth century,
Kenneth Mac Alpine, was the first sovereign of Scotland. Through
him, O'Conor, with seeming facility, traces the descent of the pre-
sent line of British kings. The attempt is at least curious.

" Kineth Mac Alpine, the first king of Scotland (as known by its
modern dimensions), was father-in-law to two of our monarchs of Ire-
land, AODH FINLIATH and FLANN-SIONNA. From that conquering

* Itev. Cesar Otvvay.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

prince, his present majesty is descended, in the thirty-first generation,
as appears by the following authentic table; —

A. D.

Kineth 1 850

Constantine 862

Donald 895

Malcolm 1 946

Kineth 971

Malcolm II u)04

Beatrix

Donchad, R. S 10:34

Malcolm III. R. S 1058

David, R. S 11'25

Henry, Earl of Huntingdon and

Prince of Scotland

David, Earl of Huntingdon

Isabel, Countess of Annandale..
Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick

and Lord of Annandale

Robert I ...1306

A. D.

Margery

Robert Stuart II 1370

Robert Stuart III 1395

James 1406

James 1437

James 1460

James 1488

James 1514

Mary 1542

James 1565

Elizabeth

Sophia

George 1 1714

George II 1727

Frederick, Prince of Wales

George III 1760"

Note to CP Conor's Dissertations on Ireland.

Cairbre also founded another principality, under the name of Dal-
riada, in the county of Antrim, and, for some descents, his posterity
succeeded to both. For a time, the Scottish colony was broken, by
the military successes of the Pictish inhabitants of the neighbouring
lowland districts; but, in the beginning of the 6th century, they
regained their independence, with an increase of prosperity, and ob-
tained the sovereignty of North Britain. From this period till the
eleventh century, the line of Dalriadic princes continued to fill the
Scottish throne.

We must, in this summary, claim the excuse of some needful economy
of the space at our command for the omission of numerous details, as
we have thought it expedient to compress into these introductory
sketches so much of the earlier annals as might appear too doubtfully
authenticated, or of too little interest for distinct biographical memoirs.

The next of these ancient names which seems to claim a passing
notice, is Oilioll, king of Munster. He is entitled to recollection as the
founder of that singular law, so well adapted to promote endless liti-
gation, the rule of alternate succession to the crown of Munster, pre-
served for many centuries, and the cause of much woe to Ireland.

Of the adventures of Oilioll, in peace and war, many strange tales
are told; but when all is deducted from these which must be referred
to poetry, there is but little to swell the memoir of a monarch, the
most eventful of whose actions is the last: the will, which bequeathed
intrigue for power, contest, emulation, and expectancy, to his remote
descendants. Oilioll was a poet, and the author of some verses, which
Keating calls pathetic, but which, in the version of his translator, might
•oore truly be called burlesque. Oilioll had his name, according to
some old writers, from certain deformities, of which the account is
simply absurd, yet may be considered, in some degree, as giving a
reflection of the manners and morals of the period : a species of infor-
mation to be gleaned from the characteristic spirit of all these fictions.

42 EAKLY.

A lady, who had suffered from Oilioll the deepest injury a modest female
can suffer, obtained satisfaction for the outrage, by biting off the royal
ear, while Oilioll slept. Oilioll, roused by the pain, started up, and
seizing on a spear, struck it through the unfortunate lady with such
force, that he bent the point against a stone. Drawing forth the spear
from the writhing victim of his worst passions, he very composedly at-
tempted to straighten its point between his teeth : the spear had been
poisoned, and the effect was to blacken his teeth and corrupt his breath.
The following is the history of the famous will. Oilioll's eldest
son was slain in battle, on which he devised his throne of Muuster to
Cormac Cas, the second. Shortly after, the widow of the eldest
(Eogan More) brought forth a son, who, in the direct course of de-
scent, was the next rightful heir. Oilioll, unwilling, perhaps, to dis-
appoint altogether the expectations which he had, by his will, excited
in Cormac, and equally reluctant to disinherit the posterity of his
eldest son, altered his will to meet this embarrassment. By the new
arrangement, he settled, that Cormac should, according to the pro-
vision of the former will, enjoy the Munster sovereignty for life ; on
his death, it was to pass to Fiachadh Muilleathan, the son of Eogan
More, or his next heir then living; and again, after the demise of
Eogan or his heir, it was to revert to the lineal heir of Cormac, then
living; after whose demise, it was to revert again to the living heir
of Eogan's line ; and thus it was to pass from line to line in a per-
petual succession of alternate remainders. There seems also to have
been, in this will, a solemn injunction to the descendants of Oilioll,
that the combination of royal families thus established, should preserve
this alternate inheritance without quarrels or disputes. The fear
which might have suggested this desire was but reasonable, but the
event was scarcely to be looked for. So great was the reverence
of his descendants for Oilioll, that for some ages they continued to
transmit the sovereignty in this alternate descent, without any con
test. The seeming improbability of this will be much diminished, by
considering the powerful sanction which such rights must have de-
rived, from the jealous guardianship and time-established feelings of
two extensive and powerful families, thus held together from genera-
tion to generation by the same tie of honour and interest. The same
customary sense which entrenches the right of primogeniture, would,
in the course of a few descents, equally guard the alternate right;
and the indication of a desire to violate it, would be as shocking to
the sense, as if a younger brother were to supplant the elder in hia
rights. The violator of such a right would have to outbrave the in-
famy of scattering discord between all the members of two strongly
united houses, and defrauding a family of its honours.

Such was the cause and nature of this circumstance, so influential
on the after course of Irish history.

Of the posterity of Oilioll Olum, some highly interesting particu-
lars are authenticated by the industry of antiquaries. From Eogau
More, the eldest, is lineally derived the MacCarthy's, of whom the
earls of Clancarty are the immediate representatives. " Out of the
wrecks of time and fortune," writes the venerable O'Conor in hia
Dissertations, " Donogh, the late earl of Clancarthy, had reserved

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION".

in his family an estate of .ten or twelve thousand pounds a-year; a fail-
possession of more than two thousand years' standing, the oldest perhaps
in the world, but forfeited in the days of our fathers."

From Cormac Cas, the second son, and first inheritor of Oilioll,
descend the Dalcassian family, of which Brian Boroimhe, the conqueror
of the field of Clontarf, is the most illustrious link, and the earls of
Thomond the existing representatives in modern times. Of this
branch, also, there is an affecting record belonging to the history of
our own times. O'Conor mentions that Henry, "the late earl of
Thomond, was head of this name, and descended, in twenty lineal
generations, from Brian Boromy, king of Ireland in the year 1014.
This nobleman left his estate, no inconsiderable one, but small in com-
parison to the great possessions of his ancestors, to an English family ;
alienated the tenure of fifteen hundred years, leaving his bare title

only to O'Brian, lord Clare, now lieutenant-general in the service

of his most Christian majesty."

From Cian, the third son of Oilioll, have descended, amongst other
families, the O'Haras, lords of Tyrawly, &c., and the O'Garas, lords
of Coolavin, who forfeited their extensive possessions in the county of
Sligo, in the troubles of 1641.

We now arrive at a period in which several indications may be dis-
covered of the advances of a higher civilization, and in which the first
gleams of mental cultivation, tinged, doubtless, with the extravagancies
of a legendary era, still shed an intellectual twilight of the day yet to
dawn over the " Isle of Saints."

Early in the third century, Cormac, the grandson of Conary the
Second, ascended the throne. His character and acts are allowed to
hold a place of the highest order among kings ; and in his reign it is not
improbable that ancient Ireland had reached her maximum of national
prosperity. The accounts, too, of his reign have all the authenticity
which the knowledge and literature of his age could impart to its
annals ; and it is a part of his glory to have provided for the preservation
of history from the corruptions, which it was at that time peculiarly in
danger of contracting, from its dangerous alliance with poetry. The
bards were also the chief historians of the age, and in the execution
of their office, did not always sufficiently preserve the distinction
between the recording and the celebration of an event. Hence, it has
happened, that the most illustrious of our kings and heroes have had
a veil of exaggeration thrown over their lives, which makes them im-
press with a sense of incredulity, minds unversed save in a present
order of things. Actions natural and consistent with the order of things
to which they belonged, require now no help from poetic invention to
give them the semblance of fiction : a little exaggeration is enough to
impart a grotesque air to manners foreign to our habits, and render
ridiculous, actions and opinions which a little more consideration, and
a little more knowledge of antiquity, would have looked for as simply
essential to the record. It, is thus that the details of the life of this
illustrious prince, and of his general, Fionn, are tinged with a colour-
ing of which the sober-minded biographer would gladly divest them,
were not the process fatal to all interest, and even to the moral and

44 EARLY.

social character of the person and his times. . The annalist may evade
the difficulty, and give to the dry and spiritless caput mortuum of a
name and date, all the verisimilitude of an almanac ; but we are com-
pelled to attempt at least the semblance of personality, and must not be
false to our office because our heroes of reality have at times a strong
resemblance to the heroes of romance.

The ancient historians of his day relate the insult and injury sus-
tained by Cormac, when he was expelled from Ulster, at the instiga-
tion of Fergus, the monarch of Ireland, in 212; his resentment, and
the prompt activity with which he formed powerful alliances, and col-
lected an army to the field of Brugh macanoig. Having applied to
a grandson of the famous Oilioll Olum, he received from him an as-
surance of support, on the condition of a pledge to settle on him a
tract of land, after he had gained his objects. Cormac agreed, and
his ally made immediate preparations to assist him, with whatever
force he could raise. He also advised Cormac to secure the assist-
ance of Lughaidh Laga, who was reputed to be the greatest warrior
of his day. Lughaidh appears to have been at the time leading a life
of solitary concealment: but his retreat was known to Thady, who was
grandson to Oilioll Olum, the brother of Lughaidh Laga. Lughaidh
was a person of a gloomy, stern, and impracticable temper, of irre-
sistible personal strength, and subject to fits of capricious and ungo-
vernable fury. He had slain in battle, Art the father of our hero ; it
wks, therefore, a trial of self-command and courage, for a youth whose
first appearance would seem to announce the presence of a foe, to face
this moody man of violence in his savage retreat. By the directions
of his new ally, Cormac entered the vicinity of Atharla, and with an
anxious but steady heart threaded the forests and gloomy defiles around
the base of the rugged Slieve Grott. He arrived at length at the
lowly hut, where Lughaidh dwelt, apart from the ways of man. On
entering, the first object which met his eye, was the gigantic frame of
the redoubted warrior stretched across the floor : his stern and massive
features were turned to the light, but he was asleep. Cormac's ready
intellect perceived that the incident was favourable to his purpose ; he
gently touched the grim veteran with his lance. Lughaidh awaking,
demanded who it was who presumed to disturb him with a freedom so
insolent. Cormac told his name. As he must have anticipated, the
impression was favourable. Lughaidh immediately observed, that
Cormac might justly have slain him as he slept, in revenge for the
death of his father. Cormac answered, that he thought something
was due to him on that score, and that he came to seek his compensa-
ti^n in the friendly alliance of Lughaidh, against his enemy, Fergus
-' The compensation which is your due," answered the warrior, " shall
be the head of Fergus." Having thus come to a friendly understand
ing, they proceeded together to Ely, where the preparations of Thady
were now considerably advanced.

The ancient bards describe, as poets will, the memorable battle of
Criona chin Comar; and relate, with the circumstantial minuteness of
accurate observation, the incidents, which it was impossible for them
to have known with certainty But the main particulars are consistent
With probability; and Cormac's known veneration for historic truth.

HISTORICAL INTKODUCTIOK 45

in some degree vouches for the main fidelity of the traditions of his lite.
By the advice of Thady, Cormac stood upon a hill which overlooked
the field, and saw the .battle rage underneath, over the plain, withouc
any advantage on either side for many hours. The desperate valour
of Lughaidh at. last turned the fortune of the day: he slew the
monarch Fergus, and his two brothers, and bore their heads in fero-
cious exultation from the field. The victory was purchased with a
heavy loss of men: the Ultonians, seven times compelled to give
ground — each time still rallied, and came on again with the fierce
impetuosity of desperation : but the valour of Lughaidh was not to be
resisted, and Thady, at length breaking through their centre, pre-
vented the possibility of repairing their scattered array. They soon
gave way in the wild disorder of flight; and were pursued with
tremendous slaughter from Criona to Glaise an Eara.

Cormac, upon this event, possessed himself of the kingdom. We
have here omitted a strange story of the stratagem of Cormac to
avoid the first effect of Lughaidh's reckless ferocity, which, when his
blood was heated, made him dangerous to friend and foe alike — how
he disguised a servant in his own clothes, to receive the warrior each
time when he emerged from the tumult to exhibit, as he slew them
in succession, the heads of his enemies. Having first slain, as the
tale runs, the two younger brothers, he fiercely asked of the supposed
Cormac if the head which he exhibited were the head of Fergus, king
of Ireland ; receiving a reply in the negative, he rushed again into the
fight; but when, on his third return, the same question met with an
affirmative reply, his insolent exultation could no longer be controlled :
giving way to the fury of his heart, he flung the gory head at the
servant, who was killed on the spot. Still less to be admitted is the
story of a base and perfidious attempt of Cormac on the life of his effi-
cient friend Thady. But true or false, the romance of his marriage with
Eithne, the foster daughter of Buiciodh Brughach cannot be omitted.

Buiciodh was a wealthy Leinster grazier, renowned for carrying-
the ancient Irish virtue of munificent hospitality to a height unknown
in the palaces of kings. But with the generous imprudence which so
commonly qualifies this virtue, his expenditure approached too nearly
the limits of his fortune. His guests too, either conceiving his riches
to be exhaustless, or, as is not unfrequently the feeling of the spend-
thrift's guest, not thinking it necessary to spare one who never spared
himself, gave him the most prompt assistance on the road to ruin :
the Leinster gentry, not content with the free use and abuse of the
most profuse hospitality, seldom left his habitation without carrying
off whatever they could take. The departure of the guest was not
unlike the plunderer's retreat: the horses and herds of the good host
were carried off, without even the trouble of asking leave. Buiciodh's
vast wealth was soon exhausted by this double outlet, to which no
fortune could be equal. Finding himself at last reduced to a state
bordering on poverty, he retired privately from the scene of his past
prosperity and splendour, with his wife, his foster child Eithne, and
the poor remains of a princely fortune. Leaving home by night, he
travelled until he came to a forest in Meath, not far from Cormac's
palace. . Here, in the resolution to pass his remaining days in peace-

46 EARLY.

fill retirement from an ungrateful world, he biiilt a small forest cabin
for his small family.

It chanced one day that Cormac rode in the direction of the spot ;
and was attracted by the appearance of a cabin standing by itself in
the solitude of forests. Approaching, he saw a young maiden of rare
and consummate beauty milking the cows :. as he stood concealed among
the boughs, he observed, with admiration approaching to wonder,
the grace of her action, and the neatness and skill with which she
discharged her duty. Retiring with the milk, Eithne, for it was she,
came forth again, and showed the same care and nice judgment in
the execution of the remaining offices of her household occupation.
Cormac now came forward, and with the prompt and facile adroitness
which belonged to his character, calmed the fears of the startled
maid, and entered into conversation on her rural employments. Pro-
fessing ignorance and curiosity, he questioned her with an air of simple
seriousness on the separation of thin milk and rich strippings, and
was surprised at her preference of sound rushes to rotten, and clean
water to brackish. In answer to his numerous questions, Eithne told
him that her cares were given to one to whom she was bound by the
ties of gratitude and duty : but when she mentioned the name of her
foster father, Cormac at once remembered the princely herdsman of
Leinster, and knew that Eithne, daughter of Dunluing, stood before
him. The incident led to the usual termination of romantic story.
Cormac married Eithne, and endowed Buiciodh with an ample
territory near the palace of Tara, with plenty of cattle, and all other
wealth of the age; so that, as Keating, in the true spirit of a story-
teller, says, he was happy for the rest of his life.

The civil history of Cormac's reign is marked by no great or sin-
gular events, to distinguish it from the reigns of other ancient princes,
whose names we have seen no sufficient reason to introduce: battles
of policy and revenge occasion violations of every moral law, and
common incidents, attributed to miraculous agency, chequer the record
in a fair proportion; but this prince is distinguished in our most
ancient annals for the magnificence of his establishment, the taste
which he displayed in the cultivation of learning and the arts, the
wisdom of his laws, and the excellence of his writings. For wisdom
and splendour he was the Solomon of Ireland : the magnificent palace
of Miodh-chuarta,* which he built for his residence, and the works of
moral and political wisdom which he left, appear to give aptness to

* The following curious notices will be read with some interest : —

" Moidh-chuarta was the middle house of the palace of Tara. The splendour of
this palace is described in an old Irish poem, beginning Temhair na rlgh Rath Chor-
maic, Temor of kings, the seat of Cormac ; but les-t this poem might be considered
a bardic forgery, we shall give the following extract from Johnston's translation of
an old Scandinavian MS., the historical testimony of which must be received as
unquestionable. In hoc regno etiam locus eft Themor dictvs olim primaria urbt
regiaque sedes, Sfc. , tfc.

In Edition qvopiam Civitatis loco splendidum et tantitm non Daedaleum Castellum
Rex et infra Custelli septa. Palatium structurd et nitore superbum habuit vbi solebat
litibns incolarvm componendis prteesse." — Ante Celt Scando, last page.

In this kingdom, also, there is a place called Themor, formerly the chief city,
and the royal residence, &c., &c.

In a more elevated part of this city, the king had a splendid and almost Dsedalean

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 47

the- parallel. An eminent poet of the period, describes, with the
authority of an eye-witness, a structure of 300 cubits in length, 50 in
breadth, and 30 in height, entered by 14 gates, and containing a vast
and splendid hall, illuminated by an immense lanthorn of costly
material and curious art, with sleeping apartments furnished with 150
beds. His household was worthy of this building: 150 of the most
distinguished champions of the kingdom, surrounded his person, and
1050 of his best soldiers formed the guard of his palace and its precincts.
On state occasions, his table was loaded with a rich and gorgeous
service of cups and goblets of massive gold and silver. The superior
officers of his household, according to established custom, were a
judge, a druid, a physician, a poet, an antiquary, a musician, and three
stewards. In addition to these, there was always a person of high
accomplishments and noble birth, to be a companion to the monarch
in his vacant hours. Amongst these may be distinguished some offices
characteristic of the period. The druid was engaged in the duties
and rites of religion ; he offered sacrifices, and foretold events. The
poet committed the deeds of famous men to verse, of which abundant
specimens are yet preserved. The antiquary had still more important
duties to perform: his care was to preserve and continue those genealo-
gical tables of kings and their queens, which were then considered to
be so important. It was also his office to correct and ascertain the
pedigrees of the different orders, and register them in the public
records.

Under this monarch, the annals of the kingdom were elaborately
revised. Three academies which he founded (it is said) in Tara,
were severally assigned to the cultivation of law, literature, and mili-
tary science. He was himself a bard, a lawyer, and philosopher; of
each of which capacities unquestioned proofs remain, in fragments
which have been preserved of his writings.

During the reign of Cormac, the military power of the kingdom
seems to have attained its highest point of perfection, under the care
of Fionn, his celebrated son-in-law, and the commander of his armies.
As we cannot pass this celebrated warrior, who is equally renowned
in fiction and authentic record, we shall reserve the history of the
famous Irish militia for his memoir.

Cormac is still more honourably distinguished for the profound
capacity which, in the midst of a gross superstition, obtained views
of a pure system of Theism: he would, probably, if not prevented by
the course of events, have been the founder of a nobler system of
theology, and more worthy of the Divine Being, than the idolatrous
polytheism of his druids. But the opposition raised by his attempts
at the reformation of a creed, the source of power and profit to these
pagan priests, was dangerous in its result: they, by their too predo-
minant influence ovei minds by nature prone to superstition, raised a
dangerous spirit of discontent among the chiefs, and involved his
reign in war.

His military operations were therefore numerous, but they were

castle, within the precincts of which he had a splendid palace, superb in its struc-
ture, where he was accustomed to preside in settling the disputes of its inhabitants. —
Dublin Penny Journal, pp. 213, and 231.

48 EARLY.

successful. The Munster kings sustained many defeats from his forces.
Connaught also, and Ulster, gave him trouble, and experienced his
superiority.

The reign of Cormac continued for forty years, and is said to
have owed its termination to his meeting with the loss of an eye, in
some attack which was made upon his palace. The fact is explained
by an ancient Irish law, according to which the throne of Ireland
could not be held by a person who should happen to be defective in
any of his members. This seems to receive some confirmation from
a parallel regulation in the ancient customs of Persia. " In the law
thus enforced," writes Mr Moore, " may be observed another instance,
rather remarkable, of coincidence with the rides and customs of the
East. In a like manner we read, in the Persian history, that the son
of the monarch Kobad, having, by a similar accident, lost the use of
an eye, was, in consequence, precluded, by an old law of the country,
from all right of succession to the throne."* In consequence of this
accident, he resigned the crown to Cairbre his son, and retired to pass
the remainder of his days in a retirement made cheerful by literature,
and famous by the works which the leisure of his age produced.
Some of the writers who notice his life, assert that he was one of the
first converts to Christianity. The grounds of this affirmation are not
very satisfactory ; though we should be inclined to conclude, from the
very slight information which exists on the subject, that Christianity
had obtained a precarious and difficult footing in Ireland during the
first century of the Christian era ; and we must admit that the tenets
of Cormac's philosophy, were such as might lead to his conversion, or
even resulted from some previous and secret acquaintance with the
sacred books. These were in the highest degree likely to find their
•way into the library of a literary monarch, whose fame was spread
abroad among the most civilized countries of his age.

Cormac, in his last retirement, wrote a volume of advice to his son.
This, or its substance, epitomized by a later hand, still exists. The cast
of the phraseology proves it to be very ancient. The form of a dialogue
between Cormac, son of Art, and his son Cairbre, is preserved; and
the precepts are remarkable for their point, sententious brevity, and
the characteristic tone of a primitive age and manners. We subjoin a
specimen of extreme interest, translated from the original Irish by Mr
O'Donovan. Of Cormac's Legal Essay, an imperfect copy remains in
the library of the Dublin University : —

" O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what is good for
a king?"

" That is plain," said Cormac. " It is good for him to have patience
without debate; self-government without anger; affability without
haughtiness ; diligent attention to history ; strict observance of cove-
nants and agreements ; strictness, mitigated by mercy, in the execution
of the laws ; peace with his districts ; lawful wages of vassalage ; jus-
tice in decisions ; performance of promises ; hosting with justice ; pro-
tection of his frontiers ; honouring the nemeds (nobles) ; respect to :ue
Jiiezsi adoration of the great God.

* History of Ireland.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

'; Boundless charity; fruit upon trees; fish in rivers; fertile land;
to invite ships; to import valuable jewels across the sea; to purchase
and bestow raiment ; vigorous swordsmen for protecting his territories ;
war outside of his own territories ;* to attend the sick ; to discipline
his soldiers ; lawful possessions ; let him suppress falsehood ; let him
suppress bad men; let him pass just judgments; let him criminate
lying ; let him support each person ; let him love truth ; let him enforce
fear ; let him perfect peace ; much of metheglin and wine ; let him
pronounce just judgments of light; let him speak all truth, for its
through the truth of a king that God gives favourable seasons."

" O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what are the
just laws of a king ?"

" I shall relate to thee my knowledge of the law by which the world
is governed: suppression of great evils; destroying robbers; exalta-
tion of goodness ; prohibition of theft ; reconciliation of neighbours ;
establishing peace; keeping the laws; not to suffer unjust law; con-
demning bad men ; giving liberty to good men ; protecting the just •
restricting the unjust," &c. &c.

" O grandson of Con! O Cormac!" said Cairbre, " what is good for
the welfare of a country?"

" That is plain," said Cormac : " frequent convocation of sapient and
good men to investigate its affairs, to abolish each evil, and retain
each wholesome institution; to attend to the precepts of the elders;
let every senad (assembly of the elders) be convened according to law ;
let the law be in the hands of the nobles; let chieftains be upright,
and unwilling to oppress the poor ; let peace and friendship reign —
mercy and good morals — union and brotherly love; heroes without
haughtiness — sternness to enemies, friendship to friends; generous
compensations; just sureties; just decisions, just witnesses; mild
instruction; respect for soldiers; learning every art and language;
pleading with knowledge of the Fenechas (the Brehon law) ; decision
with evidence ; giving alms, charity to the poor ; sureties for covenants ;
lawful covenants ; to hearken to the instruction of the wise, to be deaf
to the mob ; to purge the laws of the country of all their evils, &c. &c.
All these are necessary for the welfare of a country."

" O grandson of Con ! O Cormac !" said Cairbre, " what are the
duties of a prince at a banquetting house ?"

" A prince on Saman's day (1st of November), should light his
lamps, and welcome his guests with clapping of hands; procure com-
fortable seats ; the cup-bearers should be respectable, and active in the
distribution of meat and drink ; let there be moderation of music ; short
stories ; a welcoming countenance \failte for the learned; pleasant con-
versations, &c. These are the duties of the prince, and the arrange-
ments of the banquetting house."

" For what qualifications is a king elected over countries, tribes, and
people ?"

" From the goodness of his shape and family ; from his experience
and wisdom ; from his prudence and magnanimity ; from his eloquence ;
bravery in battle ; and from the numbers of his friends."

* Tigernach informs us, that the Izrgo fleet of Cormac Mac Art cruised in the
Tyrhenian seas for three years.
' I. i> Ir.

F.AKT.Y.

" NY hat are the qualifications of a prince?"

" Let him be vigorous, easy of access, and affable ; let him be humble,
but, majestic ; let him be without personal blemish ; let him be a (filea)
a hero, a sage; let him be liberal, serene, and good-hearted; mild
in peace, fierce in war; beloved by his subjects; discerning, faithful,
and patient ; righteous and abstemious ; let him attend the sick ; let him
pass just judgments ; let him support each orphan ; let him abomin-
ate falsehood; let him love truth ; let him be forgetful of evil, mindful
of good; let him assemble numerous meetings; let him communicate
his secrets to few ; let him be cheerful with his intimates ; let him
appear splendid as the sun, at the banquet in the house of Midchurta,
(Mecoorta, t. e. the middle house of Tarah); let him convene assem-
blies of the nobles ; let him be affectionate and intelligent ; let him
depress evils ; let him esteem every person according to his close sureties ;
let him be sharp but lenient in his judgments and decisions. These
are the qualifications by which a chieftain should be esteemed."*

One more of these sentences should be given, as its sense is bio-
graphical.

" O descendant of Con ! what was thy deportment when a youth ?"
" I was cheerful at the banquet of Miodh-chuarta, fierce in battle,
vigilant and circumspect; kind to friends; a physician to the sick;
merciful to the weak ; stern towards the headstrong. Although pos-
sessed of knowledge, I was inclined to taciturnity ; although strong, I
was not haughty ; I mocked not the old, although I was young ; I was
not vain, although I was valiant; when I spoke of a person in his
absence, 1 praised, not defamed him ; for it is by these customs that
we are known to be courteous and civilized."t

These sentences convey not only the evidence of the enlightened
character ascribed to this eminent prince, but also a strong reflection
of tlie mind of that remote age, and of the manners of his time.

The Psalter of Tara was compiled by order of this prince. His
death is thus mentioned by Tigernach : " Cormac, grandson of Con of
the hundred battles, died at Clothy, on Tuesday, the bone of a salmon
sticking in his throat ; or it was the siabra that killed him, at the
instigation of Maelciin the Druid, because Cormac did not believe in
him."

The evidence of a high, though peculiar, civilization in this mon-
arch's reign, admits of no reasonable doubt. And the history of the
island assumes a character of the clearest authenticity; that is to say,
so far as actual records, pretending to so remote an origin, are at-
tainable. In these it is always easy, at a glance, to distinguish the
truth from its ornament of fiction. Though the zeal of scepticism
may find enough of chronological disagreement, and variation of state-
ment, for the purpose of objection ; yet objections, on such grounds,
are but too apt to commit the oversight of objecting to a particular
history, that which is common to all. The difficulties, in reality, are
those arising from a neglected language, and from chasms which mis-
taken zeal, and a barbarous policy have caused, by the destruction of

* Dublin Penny Journal, 215, translated by John O'Douovan.
t Ibid. 231.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 51

ancient manuscripts. Taking these facts into account, it may be fear-
lessly affirmed, that the well-treasured and skilfully-collated records of
Saxon and Norman England have been far inferior, in historic value,
to the neglected and destroyed manuscript records of Irish antiquity,
of a far earlier date. Of that which has been lost, the indications are
as certainly ascertainable in that which we possess, as the living
forms and functions of ancient zoology, are said, by comparative ana-
tomists, to be discoverable from the broken structures of their fossil
remains.

We may next select for notice Fionn, the son-in-law of Cormac.
The flattery of ancient poetry had exaggerated him into a monster of
the fancy; and the accident of a singular piece of literary imposture
has obliterated from his fame all the circumstances of human reality.
His wisdom and valour have had the singular misfortune of being con-
signed to oblivion by poetry, which has always been supposed to bestow
on virtue the immortality of fame.

Fionn's father was Cumhal, the son of Trien More, descended in the
fourth remove from Raugadut, king of Leinster. In right of his
mother, he inherited the territory of Almuin in that province. He also
possessed a large tract in Leinster, by a grant from the provincial king.

He succeeded his father to the rank and office of commander of the
Irish militia, then the most select and highly-trained force of which
there is any record in ancient annals. His station gave him the pri-
vilege of familiar friendship with the wise monarch of Ireland, by
whom he was consulted, as a principal adviser, in the extensive im-
provements of the law and civil economy of the kingdom which he
was labouring to effect.

The standing force of this Irish militia has been stated at three
thousand select men. On occasions of apparent danger from rebellion,
or any other cause, seven thousand were deemed fully adequate to all the
demands of internal or external emergency.

At this period, there was between Ireland and North Britain the
close alliance of parental affinity. The Dalriads, whose origin we
have already noticed, looked chiefly to Ireland in their emergencies;
and in the computation of the Irish force, there seems to have been an
allowance for the protection of this colonial ally. Training, and care-
ful selection, rendered this small force equal to the indiscriminate
muster of a kingdom: a fact easily understood, from the description
of the mode of selection, and plan of discipline ; which, though alloyed
by a little obvious exaggeration, may yet substantially be received as
the truth. The number, station, and duty of the officers, may be
passed, as having no peculiar difference from the modern distribution
of military command. It is in the tests of selection, and the code of
discipline, that the traces of Cormac and Fionn, and the spirit of the
nation, are to be found. Among these, for they are minute and many,
we select a few : — One of the ordinances was a provision guarding
against the vindictive principle of retaliation, which was then a main
cause of much of the disorders of society. No soldier was allowed to
enlist, unless his relations entered into an agreement, binding them not
to attempt to revenge his death. By this, it is also evident, that he
became more strictly within the penal power of military discipline

52 EARLY.

The second regulation provided for the respectability ot the body, by
making knowledge and literary taste essential to selection. The re-
maining conditions are, at least, amusing. They relate to bodily
qualifications, and contain some curiously-impracticable tests. We
extract them, however, as unquestionably containing the principle of
selection, founded on the ancient state of warfare, as well as on the
physical characters, to this day observable among the Celtic race of
Ireland.

" The second qualifications for admittance into these standing forces
was, that no one should be received unless he had a poetical genius,
and could compose verses, and was well acquainted with the twelve
books of poetry.

" The third condition was, that he should be a perfect master of
his weapons, and able to defend himself against all attacks; and to
prove his dexterity in the management of his arms, he was placed in
a plain field, encompassed with green sedge that reached above his
knee ; he was to have a target by him, and a hazel stake in his hand,
of the length of a man's arm. Then nine experienced soldiers of the
militia were drawn out, and appointed to stand at the distance of nine
ridges of land from him, and to throw all their javelins at him at once :
if he had the skill, with the target and stake, to defend himself, and
come off unhurt, he was admitted into the service ; but if he had the
misfortune to be wounded by one of these javelins, he was rejected as
unqualified, and turned off" with reproach.

" A fourth qualification was, that he should run well, and in his flight
defend himself from his enemy; and to make a trial of his activity,
he had his hair plaited, and was obliged to run through a wood, with
all the militia pursuing him, and was allowed but the breadth of a tree
before the rest at his setting out. If he was overtaken in the chase,
or received a wound, before he had ran through the wood, he was re-
fused, as too sluggish and unskilful to fight with honour among those
valiant troops.

" It was required in the fifth place, that whoever was a candidate
for admission into the militia, should have a strong arm, and hold his
weapon steady ; and if it was observed that his hand shook, he was
rejected.

" The sixth requisite was, that when he ran through a wood, his hair
should continue tied up during the chase ; if it fell loose, he could not
be received.

" The seventh qualification, to be so swift and light of foot, as not
to break a rotten stick by standing upon it.

" The eighth condition was, that none should have the honour of
being enrolled among the Irish militia, that was not so active as to
leap over a tree as high as his forehead ; or could not, by the agility
of his body, stoop easily under a tree that was lower than his knees.

" The ninth condition required was, that he could, without stopping,
or lessening his speed, draw a thorn out of his foot.

" The tenth, and last, qualification was, to take an oath of allegiance,
to be true and faithful to the commanding officer of the army. These
were the terms required for admission among these brave troops;
which, so long as they were exactly insisted upon, the militia of Ireland

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

were an invincible defence to their country, and a terror to rebels at
home and abroad."*

From these accounts, with all their palpable inconsistencies, one
inference may be safely drawn : that the military force of the country
were brought, by Fionn, to a high state of discipline and efficiency.
The traditions of their exploits, and ascertained remains of their customs,
alone are certain indications of so much.

We hasten, however, to a subject of more importance in the history
of Fionn. We shall touch but briefly upon the spurious translations of
Macpherson ; because the world has been long since Wearied with in-
conclusive reiterations on the subject; and the improved knowledge of
our best modern antiquaries seems to have concluded, in a scornful
silence, on the dishonest character of his attempt to rob this island of
her bards and warriors.

As modern history began to emerge from the obscurity of the middle
ages, much of those more ancient materials which should form the
basis of all true history — scattered, obscured, and mutilated, by the
events of a long revolutionary period of confusion — had not yet been
sought out, restored, brought together, and compared : and while these
were wanting, bold inventions, rendered specious by their adaptation
to the spirit of their date, occupied their place. These were felt, for
the most part, to be of spurious or doubtful authority by the more sober
writers, in whose pages they yet found a place, from the mere want of
the means to disprove or replace them. The genius of theory, however,
which still holds by no means a sinecure station in history, was a
principal guide through the perplexity of a research, where so much
must needs have belonged to conjecture. Slight facts ; faint analogies ;
traditions variously corrupted by omission, accumulation of error,
fraud, and the natural prejudices of nationality; took form, according
to the imagination or prejudice of the collector : and national periods,
that never had existence, thus assumed a form and seeming consistency
on the chronicler's scroll. One followed another, each adding some
new confirmation, drawn from the same dark region of unreal fancies
and dimly-seen shadows. Such is a brief abstract of the character
Mid pretension of those writers of the 15th and 16th centuries, who
enabled Buchanan to compose a history, possessing all the recommenda-
tions which national feeling, and a strong, elegant, and vivacious style,
could impart to accounts grounded on a mixture of fraud, mistake, and
speculation. By this class of writers the first colony of Scots from
Ireland was carried back many centuries, and placed before the Chris-
tian era, which, in point of fact, preceded this event by two centuries
and a half; and the history of a line, far more shadowy than the vision
of Banquo's royal race, makes its appearance on the tablet of the impos-
ing romance of the middle ages.

These old writers, however, were still to some extent compelled to
adopt the main form of a tradition which, however obscure, corrupt,
and dateless, was yet shaped from events and notions based on events.
A writer belonging to a recent period, taking advantage of the silent
obscurity of the subject, has made a more dariug attempt to shape anti-

* Keating.

54 EARLY.

quity into a theory, for the purpose of maintaining- a literary project
of his own. Taking advantage of the confusion by which the ancient
name of Ireland has become the modern name of Scotland — availing
himself of the near affinity of the Highland and Irish languages — of
the traditions common to both — and of the specious prejudices of his
time in favour of the more civilized, and against the less fortunate,
of the two countries; he boldly seized on a theory which, in the
absence of the facts, is highly accommodated to appearances; and at
once reversing the claims of Ireland and her Highland descendants,
he peoples the former from the latter, and boldly transfers the poe-
try, history, and persons, of a most authentic period of Irish history to
the Highlands of Scotland.

The fictions of the Scottish history of Buchanan's age and compo-
sitions have long been exploded, by the skilful science and united
judgment of the most reputed modern antiquaries of the kingdom.
Nor, in these days of enlightened research, would even a Highland
bard be hardy enough to trace the Highland tribes, or the Scottish
monarchy, beyond the dates assigned by the thoroughly established
annals of their parent island. Nor need the ancestral pride of the
Highland Celt shrink from the decision, which (looking justly on the
past) adds to his descent the indefinite glories of the farthest descend-
ed and most illustrious race in the annals of European antiquity.

A just allowance for this consideration, which may here be allowed
to repose on the view of Irish history already given, must dissolve the
dreams of Mr M'Pherson, without the pains of any detailed analysis
of his work. The grounds of charge against him are briefly : mistakes
as to chronology ; gross anachronisms in the use of names, and in the
construction of his specimens of original language ; the assumption, on
no authority, of names, persons, and events, as part of the history of
one country, which have an authorized place solely in the history
and traditions of another. As O'Conor remarks, he describes Ossiaii
as the illiterate bard of an illiterate age, having his poems handed
down 1400 years by tradition, and yet unknown through all this
period, till discovered at the end of it, and given to the world in the
form of a voluminous well-arranged series of epic poems, deficient in
no link, obscure in no allusion, and comprising a royal bard's history
of the wars and changes of a most eventful period.

Such is no unfair description of a most ill-combined artifice ; gratui-
tous so far as its authority, and, in its construction, a tissue of shallow
contradictions. Of these the reader, who cares to satisfy himself by
entering into details we cannot afford, will find a clear exposure in
most recent histories of Ireland.

The intervening names to Criomthan, a descendant of Oilioll Olum,
afford little occasion for comment, and supply little more than a series
of those genealogies which formed so important a part of the ancient
Irish records; of all these persons, there is not one whose history could
afford new matter for observation, or indeed any event of interest, unless
we except the curious history of the three Collas, of which the outline
might doubtless be offered, on the satisfactory authority of the Psalter
of Cashel; but when we have sifted the facts from the embellish-
ments which they have received from antique superstition, they present

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 55

nothing more than the ordinary features of rebellions, battles, and
usurpations, on the same petty scale which applies to so much that we
have related. Criomthan, it may be mentioned, was poisoned bv his
sister, who is said to have been actuated by so inveterate a determina-
tion, that to deceive him, she tasted the poison, and paid with her life
the penalty of her crime. He was succeeded by the celebrated Niall.

Niall, surnamed of the nine hostages, was the son of Eochaidh Muigh
Meedon, the predecessor of Criomthan.

The settlement of the Caledonian Dalriads has already been de-
scribed. They were at this time exceedingly harassed by their Pict-
ish neighbours. In their distress, they looked to the usual resource
of Irish protection, and Niall crossed over with an army, of sufficient
power to awe the Picts into submission without recourse to a trial
of strength. His interference became, therefore, more of a political
than military character. At the request of the Dalriads, he changed
the name of the country to Scotia ; and that it might be distinguished
from the parent island, he imposed the less flattering addition of minor.
So that Ireland was from thenceforth designed to retain the appella-
tion of Scotia Major, and Scotland of Scotia Minor. Till this period
Scotland had borne the name of Albyn.

Niall also led a powerful army into France, where he committed
considerable devastation; and making a second descent in concert
with the Dalradians of Scotland, they plundered the whole district of
the Loire. It was in one of these expeditions that a large body of
captives was brought into Ireland by this monarch, amongst whom, it
is said, was the youth afterwards so well known, in our ecclesiastical
annals, under the title of St Patrick.

The ambition of Niall appears to have swelled far beyond the nar-
row circle of provincial enterprise, which formed the boundary of his
predecessors. His life seems to have been passed in successive ex-
peditions into Scotland, England, and Fiance. In one of these he
met his death, on the banks of the Loire, from the hand of Eochaidh,
a Leinster prince, whom he had exasperated by various acts of hostility
and oppression. The incident was as follows: — Eochaidh, burning
with revenge, offered himself as a volunteer in the ranks of the Dal-
riadic force, which formed a part of the army of Niall. He had,
while an exile in Scotland, formed an intimacy with Gabran, the leader
of this force, by whom he was readily received, and thus contrived to
attach himself to the force of his powerful enemy. Niall, who soon
became apprised of the fact, seems to have taken the alarm, and refused
to admit him to his presence. But his precaution was insufficient.
Eochaidh watched with the deadly vigilance of hate, and it was not
long till the moment of vengeance arrived. One day, as Niall had
seated himself on the banks of the Loire, an arrow, shot from a thicket
on the other side, pierced him through. Eochaidh immediately re-
turned to Ireland, and, taking possession of the province of Leiuster,
reigned for many years.

Among the many curious romances of old tradition, that of Eochaidh's
children is among the best. It would indeed require but a little aid
from the established story -telling phrase, to entitle it to a distinguished
place in Eastern fiction, to which the Irish legend has a family re-

56 EARLY.

semblance too near to be unnoticed. As it may, however, happen to
he but an imaginative version of the truth, we shall offer it in the
unassuming dress of a simple outline.

When Eochaidh was an exile in Scotland, and under the protection
of the governor of the Scottish Dalradians — it fell out that his lady
and the princess of Scotland were, on the same night, and in the same
apartment, taken ill with the pains of child-birth. They were friends,
and seemed resolved not to be separated in the pangs or the triumphs of
that interesting trial of female fortitude. There was, perhaps, another
reason. The princess of Scotland was deeply anxious to conciliate
her husband's affections with the present of a son and heir, and had
concerted the arrangement which was to ensure her an added chance.
In order to effect the desirable object, no one but the midwife was
allowed to enter, until they should be called for. The event proved
the wisdom and success of this arrangement. The princess of Lein-
ster had two sons, but the Scottish princess only a daughter. With
silent celerity the preconcerted change was made; the princess
received from the hands of the discreet midwife, one of the boys
of her friend, and the happy tidings of an infant prince of Scotland
soon surrounded her bed with the king and his court in joyful con-
gratulation.

Years rolled on — the infant grew to be a gallant prince, and at
length, on the death of his supposed father, ascended the Scottish throne.
Being of a warlike genius, he resolved to lay claim to the supremacy of
Ireland ; and making immense levies, he landed in Ireland, and struck
terror and dismay wherever he turned his course. But of all the princes
who trembled at a power they had no means to withstand, the youthful
king of Leinster had the most to fear ; the hostile purpose of Eogan
seemed to be more especially directed against him. In this serious
perplexity, when he had neither force to resist, nor wealth to comply
with the exorbitant demands of his formidable enemy, he was, perhaps,
little relieved by the sudden declaration of his mother, that she would
herself seek the king of Scotland, and engaged that she would com-
pletely turn away his hostile design. The good old queen's proposal
must have seemed absurd to her son ; but she had her own way, and
went to seek the king of Scotland in his camp.

The Scottish king was a little surprised at receiving a visit from
one so old, and was still more so when she ventured to expostulate
with him on his meditated hostilities towards her son. Thinking,
probably, that the Leinster prince had shown no great wisdom in his
selection of an ambassador, he gave way to his impatience, and ex-
claiming that he had no notion of being turned from his purpose by
the ravings of an old hag, he sternly bade her leave his presence
without delay. The old lady replied with a solemn composure, that
his own mother was a hag such as she, and that she had an important
secret, of the utmost concern to him, which could only be com-
municated to his private ear. The king's curiosity was excited, and
he ordered the hall to be cleared. When alone, she told him the
secret history of his birth, and that he was her son, and the brother
of the prince whom he was about to invade. To confirm his story,
she appealed to the evidence of his reputed mother, the princess of

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

Scotland. The king of Scotland was much astonished at so singular
a story, and immediately dispatched a messenger to desire the queen
of Scotland's presence with all possible speed. In a short time she
arrived, and unreservedly confirmed the whole account of the Leinster
princess. The king, satisfied that a disclosure which must needs en-
danger his crown, required to be suppressed at any sacrifice, exacted
from both ladies a pledge of the most inviolate secrecy ; and not only
agreed to withdraw his troops from Leinster, but from that moment
entered into a treaty with the prince, of which the event was lasting
peace and strict friendship between the brother kings.

Niall had eight sons, to whom many ancient Irish families can be
traced. The reason of his peculiar title, which has, by all historians,
been added to his name, is said to be his having kept nine hostages
— four from Scotland, and five from Ireland, as pledges for the peace-
able conduct of each of these countries.

In A. D. 375 Niall was succeeded by Dathy, whose bold spirit first
broke the line of isolation between this island and foreign lands, and
thus first opened the way for Christianity. He is mentioned by O'Conor
as the last of our heathen monarchs. He was followed, in the order
of alternate succession, by Leogaire, A. D. 421 : in whose reign Patrick
came to Ireland. The same reign is to be noted for a solemn convo-
cation to examine the ancient genealogies of the kingdom ; a proceed-
ing to which we may refer as giving strong corroboration to the an-
cient portion of our history.

From the period of this transaction, by a decree of Leogaire, the an-
nals of Ireland were committed to the care of the bishops, to be tran-
scribed and kept in their churches. Of these MSS. many remain, and
have found their way into collections and public libraries. We may
enumerate the 'Book of Armagh,' the 'Psalter of Cashel,' the 'Book of
Glendalough ; ' the 'Book of Clonmacnoise; ' &c., &c. Oilioll Molt,
and Lughaigh in succession followed Leogaire. In the reign of the
latter it was that a considerable body, of Irish was led into Scotland
by Lorn, and conquered Argyle from the Picts. This was but one of
several incursions and settlements of the Irish, then called Scots, into
North Britain, from which the latter country is supposed to have its
name.

The Picts were (according to the best authority) a Gothic race, from
the northern forests of Germany, then very generally called Scythia.
They had early sought a settlement in Hibernia, and were referred by
the natives to Britain, as less occupied; they followed the suggestion,
seeking wives from the Irish Scots. This was allowed on the condition
that, in doubtful cases, the sceptre should follow the female line. From
this a Scottish monarchy began to strike root, and the Picts to decline,
till they were finally subdued in the 9th century, and the Scottish
sovereignty became vested in a line of Dalriadic kings, in the person of
Kenneth M'Alpine.

The reigns which follow are little marked by civil progress, and are
partially memorable for events belonging to ecclesiastical history, to
which, so far as their interest warrants, they may be referred.

58 EARLY.

CHAPTER II.

Literature confined to the Church— Ignorance of the Middle Ages and Progressive
Corruption of Ancient Literature— Evidence of Ancient Traditions— Principal
Controversies of the Church, &c.

THE writers on the Irish church have very generally committed an
error of serious magnitude and importance, of which the consequences
involve the statements of every party, and are now difficult to obviate.
The error we would point out is this — that of pursuing their investi-
gations on the inconclusive ground of partial authorities, to the disre-
gard of those comprehensive general truths of human history which
are the first principles of every well-conducted inquiry. On one side,
the desire to magnify the Irish church, and connect its history with
that of the church of Rome ; on the other, to depress, or to establish
opposite conclusions — has led either side into exaggerated and hasty
views, with which it is difficult to deal in a summary essay such as our
narrow limits afford ; there is too much to be explained, and too much
to be cleared away.

We are then, at the outset, compelled to incur the charge of pre-
sumption by asserting our right to think for ourselves, and to use the
learning and industry of our learned and able authorities, without
much deference to mere opinion on either side ; and adopting the
middle views which appear to our perceptions most reconcilable with
general history, leave the learned antiquarians and commentators to
fight out their differences among themselves. The contests carried on,
«>ven at the present late period, respecting the antecedents of the Irish
Church, while they display very strikingly the industry and the ingenu-
ity of the respective antagonists, at the same time tend to raise a strong
general presumption against the monkish chronicler and his ultramon-
tane commentator ; and this, not from any charge of designed or con-
scious imposture. The statements are, in frequent instances, but the
undeliberate persuasion of what they ignorantly believed, or of sincere
notions founded on spurious fact. A faith popularly received, will
stand for confirmation of much by art or tradition connected with it,
or which it may be thought to sanction ; and we may add, that the
credentials of the truth may be ignorantly transferred to the spurious
accretion. Thus a traditionary report of the condition of circumstances,
in a period of ignorance beyond the line of authentic history, will be
accepted without suspicion by those with whose previous conviction it
agrees.

We shall content ourselves with a resolution to avoid the ingenious
example of the conflicting antiquaries, by not very largely enter-
ing into the authorities or arguments of the writers on either side
of the question, which we propose here to notice so far as our own
immediate purposes require. The method of discussion on whicli
we are thus thrown, will be concise and summary, and, though hav-
ing little of the learned fulness which astonishes and delights the
patient reader in the full and copious pages of Lanigan, Ware, and

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 59

Usher, will yet be more suited to the time and intelligence of the
popular mind.

Precisely to appreciate the history of the Irish ecclesiastics and
writers, the legends and traditions, and the main disputes concerning
the Irish church, during this period, we must endeavour to place briefly
before the reader a concise view of the causes then in operation on
the human mind in general, as well as on Irish literature and the-
ology.

In the history of every ancient institution, there is one universal
consideration which can never be lost sight of without risk — that of
the course and changes of civilization ; including under this compre-
hensive term, knowledge, and the state of opinion, with its diffusion
as well as progress — with the state also of municipal laws and insti-
tutions, and manners, in successive periods. For it is quite evident,
that the particular state of any institution subsisting by human instru-
mentality, must have always participated largely in the changes of the
state of mankind Thus, when we peruse the profound dissertation
which elaborately, and with some doubt, establishes the point that the
doctrine and discipline of the middle ages was or was not the same
as that of Ireland in the days of St Patrick, we cannot help thinking
of the fish and the tub of water, and reflecting on the melancholy
extent to which controversy, over hotly pursued, will lead astray the
learned lights of school and cloister.

All historians, and particularly the historians of literature,* have
dwelt upon the corruption and decay of human civilization during the
decline of the Roman empire. The desolating invasions, and the
wide-spreading, exterminating, and long-continuing succession of wars
and revolutions, which during many generations continued to over-
throw and sweep away the ruins of the ancient order of things, had,
about the seventh century, reduced the state of Europe to unlettered
barbarism. For a long continuation of dark ages, human knowledge
was narrowed to a scanty residuum of corrupt language, and frivolous
first elements, containing the forms without the substance of reason.
Human ingenuity, not to be altogether eradicated by revolutions, was,
in the absence of knowledge, employed on the materials of ignorance ;
in the absence of light, men wandered in the dark. It was not to be
expected, for it was morally impossible, that any class or country,
school or institution, could continue, in such a state of things, to wear
its form, as in previous, or subsequent ages. Barbarism and igno-
rance, approaching that lowest stage in which the mass of mankind
become only separated from the brute creation, by the hapless interval
of error and of crime, could not fail to influence every existing insti-
tution. If, in such a state of things, the existence of any degree of
literature is to be discovered, it must have been nothing more than
the commonest purposes of civil or ecclesiastical government rendered
essentially necessary. Necessity alone preserved a corrupted and
feeble gleam of intellectual light, such as suited the vision of a period
which has obtained the distinctive epithet of dark, which emitted its

* For the most clear and satisfactory detail upon this subject, we would recom-
mend " Hallum oti the Literature of the Middle Ages."

60 EARLY.

scanty and discoloured beam from the cloister. Letters were an instru-
ment required for certain current uses, and all other uses were for-
gotten ; it was just as if some dreadful revolution should come to sup-
press all the refinements and more extensive applications of philosophy
which exist in modern society ; the arithmetic of trade would still
survive in the publican's book. But neither the science, philosophy,
or poetry of the ancient world survived — its language was corrupted ;
and the changes, by which the world was yet to be redeemed from
this state of barbarism, cannot properly be said to have had any oper-
ation. The ignorance here described had, however, an additional
character of barbarism, for the literature of antiquity was not merely
declining, but actually proscribed by the highest authorities of the
sixth century. On this fact it is not within our purpose to dwell ;
we only seek to impress the truth, that the world was for some ages
involved in a state of barbarism and intellectual degradation, in which
all existing institutions fully participated. The rules of conduct and
the manners of society, the opinions in philosophy, and the practice of
piety and the doctrines of faith, all, by a necessary adjustment which
could not but have occurred, shared in the corruption of knowledge
and the entire depravation of reason.

It is owing to this consideration that we have found it essentially neces-
sary, for the present at least, to combine our ecclesiastical and literary
series into one. The literature of Europe was confined to the church
and its uses. The same consideration may avail us for the important
purpose of indicating a useful criterion to authenticate some of the
most valuable documentary remains of the ancient Irish church.

The early history of the Irish church is not free from controverted
points, which we think may be, in some measure, diminished by a full
and searching analysis of the whole of the causes then in operation.
Such a labour would, it is true, carry the historian far beyond the
scope and objects of these pages ; and we shall be compelled to con-
fine our disquisition to the elucidation of a single question in which
our own statements are to some extent involved. The early accounts
of the first fathers of the Irish are rendered questionable, or at least
have been much questioned, by reason of the strange mixture of absurd
and monstrous fables with which they are unhappily mixed. The life
of Patrick, the greatest and most disputed name, has, within our own
times, been made the topic of a lively dispute ; and while his identity
is called into question by the learned industry of some, the sceptical
ingenuity of others has altogether dismissed him into the category of
fabulous worthies. Such, indeed, is the allowable uncertainty of 'a
question obscured by the cloud of dreams which fill the vast intellec-
tual void of the middle ages, through which all the events of the pri-
mitive ages of our history, are seen distorted and discoloured into
miracle and monster. In the long perspective of the past, the keenest
eye fails to discern the long intervals which lie between the realities
and the grotesque shadows with which they seem to be combined.
The materials for separating the fanciful legend from the fact, over
which it has flung its fantastic foliage of legend, are slight, desultory,
and difficult to authenticate beyond question. Every authority is
open to cavil — the worthlessness of mere tradition, the defectiveuess

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

of chronology, the uncertainty of transmission by manuscript, the
facility of its forgery, and the known fact that such a practice existed.
These causes appear to cast doubts not easily removed on every autho-
rity, upon subjects so partial and obscure as the life and acts of an
individual.*

It is from .this consideration easy to see, that the distinction between
the various ages of literature thus confused — to the confusion of all his-
torical authority — must be of some importance ; and it is our duty to
ascertain whether there may be found some criterion in the matter of
inquiry itself, and independent of any extrinsic questions which may
affect it, by which the genuineness of our authorities may be. ascer-
tained with the least uncertainty.

Now, this we conceive to be a simple and obvious consequence of
the considerations we have set out with. The legends and supersti-
tious fables, which were the natural produce of ages characterized by
their ignorance and barbarism, are little to be looked for so far back
as the more civilized era to which St Patrick's life is referred by all.
Neither the notions nor the purposes, which strongly mark the litera-
ture of the middle ages, can, with any reasonable likelihood, be re-
ferred so far back as the fifth century. Nor, for the same reasons, can
the opinions and doctrines of the fifth century be rationally looked for
in the literature of the eighth century.

If, therefore, statements of fact and opinion can be found in any of
the lives of ancient persons, which are clearly inconsistent with the
whole system of the belief of the middle ages, a very strong presump-
tion arises in favour of the antiquity of such documents.

This presumption becomes much strengthened by the known fact.

* For home of our readers it may at first appear unsafe to use an argument
which seems to shake the authority of ancient manuscripts. The arguments which are
aimed against the histories of St Patrick, have an obscure circulation, in a low
quarter, to the prejudice of Christianity. But, whatever may be their force when
aimed at Irish manuscripts they are downright nonsense when aimed against the
gospel. The case is indeed widely different. The evidences of the gospel, do not
rest on the authenticity of a few isolated manuscripts. It needs, in strict reasoning,
no support from the investigation of ancient specific documents : if even all its direct
testimonies could by some inconceivable means be annihilated, both its facts and
doctrines are fixed beyond rational doubt, in the whole body of historical tradition
and in the moral frame of the civilized world. It is so fully established in the very
fabric and texture of society with all its institutions, so diffused through all litera-
ture from the first century, so implied in every constitution of laws, so inseparably
blended with usages and tradition — being in a word, the very fundamental principle
or first element of the social syslern — that the sceptic might as well attempt to fix
a point of time within the last eighteen centuries when sunshine was invented, as
to apply to the gospel the same objections which more or less impair the special
authority of all other historical tradition. In fine, the best proof that any sped;,!
document of Christian antiquity can have, is the support it may derive from the
universal consent of tradition on this one event. Its evidence is the evidence of a
system of facts, doctrines, controversies, institutions, and revolutions of Europe.
The full and collective force of this species of proof we have explained at large in
another work : Philosophy of Unbelief, pp. 2 1C — 232. Fellowes, Ludpate Street. We
cannot end this note, without mentioning a remark of great force which we
have met in some writer, that if the writings of the New Testament had been lost,
they could be reconstructed from the controversialists, infidel opponents, apologists,
and fathers of the first three or four centuries.

62 EARLY.

that in the middle ages all human opinions were in the strict custody
of a class of persons, who, while they participated in the ignorance
and intellectual degradation of their time, exercised a proportionally
strict control over the narrow range of ideas they possessed. The
assertion of the doctrinal tenets of the fourth and fifth centuries, would
be then not only inconsistent but unsafe. In those dark times religion
suffered in common with literature and science, and the church itself
was for a time overshadowed by the eclipse of human reason. Tenets,
which now have no ostensible existence, were maintained by a pervad-
ing and inevitable jurisdiction ; and no writing, which contained any
statement of Christian doctrine inconsistent with those tenets, could
be put forth without question, although such may be allowed to have
existed in those dblivious repositories of old parchment, which were the
libraries of the monastic communities.

The progress of the ecclesiastical system was, as we have stated,
such as to be wholly conformed to the decline of civilized society, and,
for some melancholy ages, gave a tinge of ignorance and superstition
to all such scanty literature as existed, so as to separate it altogether
from all that had been believed or written in the earlier ages. We
now return to the general argument.

Of the state of literature in the middle ages, as already described,
the character most important to our present argument is, the gradual
progress of its corruption. For seven centuries the mind of man
sunk on from simple ignorance to positive error; the schools grew
more and more involved in the cloudy maze of dialectical perplexity.
At the same time the legendary lore which amused the simple, grew
more characteristically extravagant, as the faith of ,the credulous wa«
enlarged. The mind conformed itself to its stock of knowledge and
opinion, and the superstitions of one generation formed a basis for the
added absurdity of the next in succession. There was thus a pro-
portional alteration in the style, tone, and substance of the literature
of successive ages, which can be perceptibly traced. Thus the legends
of the thirteenth century are easily to be distinguished from those of
the eighth, and those again from those of the sixth; while still in these
last, the eye of the intelligent critic will not fail to detect ample indi-
cations of declining taste and knowledge. Such is the important prin-
ciple of criticism, which we would strongly recommend to antiquarian
students.

A remark of Mr Harris, which we "here extract, offers valuable
confirmation, and is the more valuable as being the result of observa-
tion:—

" It is observable, that as the purest stream always flows nearest to
the fountain ; so among the many writers of the life of this prelate,
those who have lived nearest to his time, have had the greatest regard
to truth, and have been the most sparing in recounting miracles.
1 hus Fiech, Bishop of Sletty, the saint's contemporary, comprehended
the most material events of his life in an Irish hymn of thirty-four
stanzas, a literal translation of which into Latin, hath been since pub
Hshed, with the original Irish, by John Colgan ; but in process of
time, as the writers of his life increased, so his miracles were multi-
plied, especially in the dark ages, until they at last exceeded all

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

hounds of credibility. Probus, a writer of the tenth century, outdid
all who preceded him, but he himself was far surpassed by Joceline.
At length came Philip O'Sullivan, who made Joceline his ground-
work, yet far exceeded him, and seemed fully determined no future
writer should be ever able to surpass him in relating the number and
magnitude of St Patrick's miracles."

These facts are here cursorily stated, because they are univer-
sally known in our age of historical light. The inference, though
not quite so familiar, is too obvious to detain us long. It evidently
presents an important rule to guide the antiquary in his researches —
as by a careful reference to these considerations, the age and the
genuineness of the most important ancient manuscripts can be tested
with much advantage. The criterion is rendered important by the
controversies which in our own time, throw such doubt over the very
existence of some of the most considerable personages of our history.
An antiquary of much deserved reputation, has ventured, and on very
specious grounds, to express an entire incredulity on the very fact of
the existence of such a person as St Patrick. He has been ably replied
to, upon the merits of his own argument by several ; amongst others,
by Mr Dalton, whose learned arguments we have attentively read,
since the former impression of this article. With his arguments we
perfectly concur, but we here offer one, as we cannot indeed afford to
enter at more length into the subject.

The doubts of modern antiquaries have been mainly drawn from the
two great and obvious sources of historical objection: the apocryphal
character of the greater part of the historians of the saint, and the
silence of earlier and more authentic authority. Other objections
there are; but these alone demand remark.

To the first of these, it may be generally replied, that the legend
writers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, are not to be accused of
inventing persons, but of seizing and exaggerating traditions : even in
this respect, their fault being more generally the result of the common
error, of seeing and interpreting the past, according to the ideas of
the present, than of wilful and deliberate imposition. That there
were forgeries, must indeed be admitted: but even in these the ma-
terial must have been established by the common consent of opinion.
It is however to such, that our argument applies directly. No writing
between, the eighth and ninth centuries, could by any possibility have been
the production of the fourth or fifth. And if the writing in dispute, can
be traced so far back, the presumption in favour of its authenticity,
remains, at least yet, unshaken by objection. The forgery of docu-
ments which was a known fraud of the middle ages, had not at that
early period its commencement or its objects. But on this point it is
unnecessary to dilate. As an example of this argument, we must be
content barely to mention the composition well known to antiquarians,
under the name of the " Confessio jPatricit" — a narrative equally
remarkable for its simple and genuine representation of the mind and
spirit of a Christian of the primitive church, and its total freedom from
the common characters of the legends of the dark ages of literature.
Of this character, though in a less degree, and making some allowances
for the nature of the composition, is the celebrated though not commonly

64 EARLY.

known hymn of Fiech, purporting1 to be a life of Patrick, and quoted
as authoritative by most writers. Of this we here present the reader
with a specimen: it lies before us in the original Irish. We however
must prefer the more generally intelligible medium of a Latin trans-
lation, ascribed to Mr Michel O'Clery, one of the compilers of our
ancient annals, who are known by the title of the Four Masters.

Natus est Patricias Nemturri

Ut. refertur in historiis,

Fait annorum sedecim

Quando ductus in captivitatis aerumaas.

Sucat nomen ei primo impositum erat
Quantum ad patrem attinet sciendum fuerit,
l-'iHus Calfarnii filii Otidii
Nepos Diaconi Odissii.

Annis sex erat in servitute

Escis hominum (nempe gentilium) non vescons

Ideo rocatus Cathraige

Quia quatuor farniliis inserviebat.

Dixit victor angelus servo

Milconis : ut trans mare se conferret

Pedeni imposuit supra petram

Ibiquc: exinde manent impressa ejus vestigia.

Profectus est trans Alpes omnes
Trajecto mari ; (quae fuit felix expeditio)
Et apud Germanum remansit
In Austruli parte Latii.

In insulis maris Tyrrheni
Mansit: uti memoro
Legit canones apud Germanum
Sicut testantur historise.

In Hiberniam venit

Admonitus angelorum apparitioniJjus

Saepius in visionibus videbat

Se debere denuo eo redire

Salutaris erat Hiberniae
Adventus Patricii ad Fochlaidios
Audiebat a longe vocem invocantrum
Infantium de silvis Fochlaid

Rogabant ut ad cos veniret sanct.im
Qui discurrebat per Latium
Ut conrerteret ab errore
Populos Hibernise ad viam viUe.

Vates Hibernia vaticinabantur
Adventurum tempus pacis novum
Qu,» cmratura sit in perpetuum
Unde deserta foret Temores sub eilcDtio.

Sui Druydae Loegario
Adventum Patricii non ccelabant
Adimpleta sunt vaticinia
De domino quern predicabant.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

Clarns erat Patricius usq. mortem

Extitit et strenuus in exterminandis erroriuus

Et hinc merita ejus exaltata suut

Supra nationes hominem.

Hymnos et Apocalypsin

Et tres quinquagenas psalmorum in dies cam-bat

Praedicabat, baptizabat, orabat,

Et a laudibus Dei non cessabat.

Nee temporis algor impediebat

Quo minus manaret de nocte in mediis ;iquis

Ad cceli potiundum gaudium

Prsedicabat de die super collibus.

In fonte slan ad aquilonem juxla Bennaboirohe
(Qui fons nunquam deficit)
Decantabat centum psalmos singulis noctibus
Rrgi angelorum inserviendo.

Cubabat postea super nuda petra
Capsula amictus madida
Saxum fuit ejus pulvinar
Sic arcebat a corpore remissionern.

Praedicabat evangelium populis,
Multas virtutes et signa simul operatus :
Curabat csecos et leprosos :
Mortuos revocabat ad vitam.

Patricius praedicabat Scotis
Passus multos labores in Lalio
Ut venirent in die judicii
Quos convertit ad vitam seternum.

Filii Emeri, Filii Erimonii.
Omnes seducti a deem one,
Quos et recondidit Satbanas
In magno puteo infernali. •

It is indeed in reference to Patrick, that the reflections on which
we have been led to dwell at length, may be best exemplified. Many
antiquarians have strongly questioned or denied his existence or his
pretensions as the apostle of Ireland: among these Ledwich stands
most conspicuous. But the same doubts have recently come into
fashion, and been urged with considerable skill. Having attentively
perused the principal arguments, we have here thought it sufficient to
notice the defect of the investigation, rather with a desire to see it
taken up on more comprehensive principles, than with much concern
for the inference. The grounds of objections are various : — that here
examined consists in the affirmation of the doubtful character of the
legends of the middle ages. The argument is simply this, — that every
mention of the name of Patrick, connected with opinions inconsistent
with the spirit of those doctrines and pretensions maintained by the
church of Rome in the middle ages must have been produced in much
earlier times, and can be referred to no fraudulent design, — if, indeed,
it will not be at once admitted that such writings as were not forged
in those ages to which an extensive system of forgery has been im-
puted, were not likely to have been forged at all.

The pertinacious adherence to its ancient traditions, so evidently
I. E Ir.

EAULY.

characteristic of the Irish church, renders it unlikely in the extreme,
that it should allow a spurious saint of such magnitude to grow up
without question among its own traditions — still less, to be dilated into
such formidable dimensions by the legendary blowpipe of Probus and
Joceline, without uttering one denial.

But it is by no means difficult, from the same premises, to account
for the silence, or the meagre entry of Bede's martyrology. The Irish
and British churches were, in Bede's time, widely different in spirit.
Christianity had been re-introduced into England by Gregory, after
the addition of some corruptions, not known in the Irish church ; and
there was no union, but on the contrary a feeling of some acrimony
among the English writers of that age, against the assumed heretical
antiquity of the Irish church.

We are thus led to one reason why Bede may not have seen cause
to expatiate on the illustrious lights of a church, which he is likely to
have regarded as schismatic. There is indeed a still stronger reason
for silence. St Patrick's fame has come down to us through the
medium of vast exaggerations. The true inference to be drawn from
those omissions, which the ingenuity of modern reasoners has con-
verted into arguments that he never existed, should simply be, that Ke
was not quite so remarkable a person as legends have described, and
fond nationality believed. Instead of the wonder-worker crowned with
shamrock, and marching to the national air to subdue legions of
vipers, the earlier documents describe a missionary teacher, simple,
severe, and zealous, exhibiting the clearest evidence of one instructed
in the word, and supported by the grace of his Master. Such a char-
acter is not the subject of imposture, which deals in different repre
sentations, and for different purposes. To Bede and the writers of
the eighth century, h'e was seen divested of the rays of wonder, with which
after ages adorned his name.

As there are in the following lives, a few allusions to the early
controversies in the Irish church, we may conclude with some account
of those which have the greatest historical celebrity.

The fact of a controversy, on a point so intrinsically absurd as
the clerical cut of the hair, may not appear of light significance to
those who have justly appreciated the foregoing observations. The
more trifling the ground of controversy, the more decided is its value
as an indication of the extent of the difference. The tonsure was a
harmless superstition. The Roman ecclesiastics shaved the crown of
the head. The Irish, allowing the hair to grow on the crown, shaved,
or shore away the front. Each church appealed to antiquity, and the
precedent of their respective founders, real or supposed. But it is
quite evident, that the part taken by the Irish monks in so trifling a
difference is quite inconsistent with any authority whatever being
supposed to have existed in the Roman see. It affords an absolute and
incontestible proof that, during the long period of this silly controversy,
nothing could have been conceded, whatever may have been assented
to, on the undisputed common ground of Christian communion.

The subject of the Paschal controversy, which, for nearly two hun-
dred years, divided the British church, was a difference as to the time
for celebrating Easter, of which the main grounds are as follows: — One

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 67

party following the general corrected method of the Western church
for fixing the time of Easter, computed their calendar by a cycle of 1 9
years for the moon, and 28 years for the sun. The other still used the
rejected and exceedingly erroneous cycle, of 84 years for the same pur-
pose. And secondly, the first, or Western church party, avoiding the
adoption of the Jewish passover, never began Easter on the 1 4th day
of the moon ; but should it chance to fall on Sunday, referred it to the
following Sunday. The other party, adopting no such scruple, began
on the 14th, and so on in the following years. This opposition was
not at an end till the year 800 ; when the excess of the lunar time
grew so very apparent, as to make the error generally noticed, when
the method was abandoned by its last adherents.

Most writers on this subject seem to have thought proper to offer
some brief explanation on the nature of this ancient controversy,
which occupied the churches for so many ages ; but the subject has
enough of difficulty, to admit of no explanation we fear consistent
with the brevity we should wish to preserve.

The principle on which the whole depends is, that the lunar and
solar revolutions are not commensurable ; and, therefore, when it
became important to fix a point of time with reference to both these
periods by some general rule of computation — that is to say, a certain
date cf the moon's age to a certain day — the object to be ascer-
tained ?7ould first be, to find some number of revolutions of the one,
which should approach nearest to some number of the other. These
numbers thus described are called cycles. Various cycles have
been found, and of these various combinations have been made.

The occasion for this mode of computation arose on the dispersion
of the Jews, who, still desirous to celebrate their passover at the same
time, found it necessary to seek some other method than mere observa-
tion, to ascertain the precise time of the new moon. To fix the new
moons, therefore, an astronomical cycle became necessary. Of these
it appears that two had been in use; one of which consisted of
8, and the other of 76 Julian years (a Julian year was 365 days, 6
hours). These the Jews added together, thus forming one for them-
selves of 84 Julian years. The Christian church, taking its rise in the
Jewish, carried with it their method for the computation of Easter.

Omitting such changes and disagreements as our object does not
require, in the beginning of the third century, the application of this
cycle was found to have led to a considerable error ; as this
cycle left still, between the solar and lunar periods, a difference of
nearly, 31 hours. To remedy this several efforts were made. The
difficulty was, however, in no degree diminished, till the Nicene
council, 325, decreed the following particulars: — 1st, That Easter
should every- where begin on Sunday. 2d, That it should begin on the
Sunday immediately following the 14th day of the moon, first after
the vernal equinox, then 21st March. 3d, That it should be referred
to the bishop of Alexandria, to calculate the time for each year in
accordance with these rules. For this purpose the Alexandrians
assumed the cycle of 19 years, the most precise that has yet been
ascertained; as, at this period of years, the lunar phases return within
an hour and a half of the same solar time as on the previous 19 years.

68 EARLY.

The Roman sec, unwilling to follow the guidance of the Alexan-
drian, before long, abandoning the new method, returned to the adop-
tion of the Jewish cycle ; which they retained, until the amount of the
error caused a perceptible confusion. It was then that Hilarius,
bishop of Rome, employed the presbyter, Victorius, to ascertain a
more accurate cycle. Victorius assumed the lunar cycle of nineteen
years; and as the more precise period of solar time was found to be
twenty-eight years, in which the days of the month would again return
to the same days of the week, it seemed obvious that twenty-eight
times nineteen years would give the most near combination of solar
and lunar times into a third cycle; consequently 28 X 19 = 532 years,
was now adopted. Founding his computation on this cycle, and mak-
ing the necessary allowances, Victorius assumed the beginning of his
period at A. D. 28, and calculated the days for Easter for every suc-
ceeding year for that and all succeeding periods. This laborious
computation he published A. D. 457. It is here unnecessary to explain
the further amendments, at remoter periods, owing to the errors arising
from the accumulation of the small differences mentioned above in the
lunar cycle, and those arising from the precession of the equinoxes.
We have now arrived at the controversy of the age.

The patriarchs of the British church brought with them the cycle
of eighty-four years; and their communication with the Roman see
having ceased during the long interval between 449 and 600 nearly,
they were found, at the end of that interval, celebrating a different
Easter, according to a different rule. Hence arose the long and fierce
controversy alluded to in so many of these lives.

The last point to be here explained, is the celebrated controversy
of the Three Chapters. It is the more important, as an eminent autho-
rity has referred to it as the occasion of the separation between the
churches of Rome and Ireland. We must, of course, according to
our own view, look on it rather as an evidence of undoubted inde-
pendence.

The language of cardinal Baronius is as follows : — " All the Irish
bishops zealously joined in defence of the Three Chapters. On being
condemned by the church of Rome, and finding the sentence confirmed
by the fifth council, they added the crime of schism ; and separating
themselves from it, they joined the schismatics of Italy and Africa and
other regions — exalting themselves in the vain presumption that they
were standing up for the catholic faith."*

* Baronius, Annales.

The ground in this controversy taken by the Irish church, whether orthodox
or the contrary, is not a question to which we attach any present importance : though
we may not unfitly notice the independence manifested in the maintenance of
opposite views ; and the opposition amounting to an extent sufficient to bear the
construction of Baronius. Without doubt, it must be admitted that the church of
Ireland was tainted with errors and corruptions ; and we must also admit that, in
point of knowledge and intellectual cultivation, so important in the decision of
controversial difficulties, it cannot be fairly compared with the main churches of the
East and West at this period. Its main preservation of the primitive faith, w;is
owing to its separation from the main grounds of error — speculation and political
intrigue.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 69

The history of this controversy is the following: — Nestorius was a
Syrian bishop, the disciple of Theodore of Mopsuestia, one of the most
celebrated expositors of the fifth century. ' Before his time, though
there was a general agreement as to the union of the Divine and human
natures in the person of our Saviour, yet, concerning the manner and
effects of this union, no question had been yet openly raised. That
this should yet occur, must sooner or later have become a consequence
of the subtle and metaphysical spirit which had, for a long time, been
usurping the schools of theology. In the rashness and perplexity of
speculative disquisition, doubtful positions and ambiguous expressions
would escape from the subtilizing pen ; and opinions not contemplated
by the teacher, thus become noticed by the acumen, and fixed by the
respect, of the student. On the subject of the nature of Christ, ex-
pressions were, in this manner so loosely used, as to favour the most
opposite notions ; and thus, it is probable, first arose the opposite tenets
which confused the natures or divided the personality of the incarnate
being of the Christ. The various shades of heresy which emanated from
the fruitful obscurity of this mysterious topic, do not fall within our
province to observe upon. Anastasius, a friend of Nestorius, had the
merit of first giving a tangible form to the controverted notions. In
a sermon delivered A. D. 428, he earnestly condemned the title,
" Mother of God," as applied to the Virgin Mary, and contended that
it should be " Mother of Christ;" God, he observed, could not be born,
and that the earthly nature alone could have birth from the earthly
womb of a human mother. The position thus publicly and speciously
expressed, stirred up much opposition. Nestorius took up the cause
of his friend, and maintained the orthodoxy of his opinions, with grow-
ing earnestness, and an eloquence which gave them additional noto-
riety. The opposition of some monks at Constantinople was of still
more effect, and the fury of the people was excited against the here-
siarchs. Still their opinions received currency, and the controversy
widened in its progress, until it soon occupied and divided the theo-
logians of the fifth century.

The council of Chalcedon, A. D. 451, while it distinctly affirmed
the doctrine — now most universally received, and most clearly in accord-
ance with holy writ — of the subsistence of the two distinct natures of
God and man, in one person; yet, with an inconsistency characteristic
of the philosophising theology of the time, affirmed the orthodoxy of
certain writers whose opinions were strongly tinctured with the oppo-
site opinions of Nestorius. These were, the writings of Theodore of
Mopsuestia, from which, it is not improbable, that the opinions o
Nestorius were first imbibed; the works of Theodoret, defending the
Nestorians against Cyril, bishop of Alexandria; and third, a letter
from the bishop of Edessa, on the condemnation of Nestorius. These
were the writings which afterwards became the subject- of contention,
under the famous title of the THREE CHAPTERS.

A controversy on the doctrines of Origen, in which the followers of
these doctrines were condemned by an edict from the emperor Jus-
tinian, was the proximate cause of the revival of this discussion in
the following century Theodore, bishop of Cesarea, who belonged

EARLY.

lo the sect of the Monophysites,* and at the same time had adopted
the opinions of Origen, stood high in the favour of Justinian. This
emperor was anxiously bent on extirpating a particular branch of the
Monophysites, who were called Acephali, and consulted Theodore on
the occasion. Theodore, anxious to divert the attention of this active
and interfering, but not very sagacious emperor, from the persecution
of the Origenists, sugges'ed that the Acephali would return to the
church, on the condition that the acts of the council of Chalcedon,
which affirmed the orthodoxy of the writings above described as the
Three Chapters, should be cancelled; and that other writings of the
same authors, which tended to Nestorianism, should be condemned.
The emperor consented, and the result was an edict to this effect, in
the council of Constantinople, A. D. 553.

That Ireland had heard the preaching of the Christian faith before
the commencement of Patrick's ministry, seems to be a settled point
among the writers on the ecclesiastical antiquities of the country.
The assertion of Tertullian, that Christian preaching had made its way
in the British isles where the Roman arms had never reached, would
seem an assertion descriptive of Ireland. The mission of Palladius,
"ad Scotos in Christo credentes," directly implies a Christian church
in Ireland. Ancient writers, admitting this fact, have attempted to
trace the first introduction of Christianity, and to ascertain its author.
Such attempts have, however, failed to attain any satisfactory result.
Various conjectures have been proposed by a host of writers, but
Usher, whose learning and ability might well outweigh them all,
has sifted their authorities and arguments, without better success than
discovering the fallacy of their suppositions. Of these conjectures,
the multitude is such, as, without further objection, of itself to cast
doubt upon all. St James the son of Zebedee, Simon Zelotes, Simon
Peter, St Paul, Aristobulus, mentioned in Rom. xvi, 10, with others, have
all been proposed, and none ascertained by any evidences which are
beyond the scope of bare possibility. It would here be inconsistent
with our object to enter into the ocean of antiquarian citation and
comment, which occupies many pages of Usher's most learned and ela-
borate work on the first beginnings of the British churches. One of these
conjectures has, however, met very general notice, as a topic of denial
or affirmation among recent inquirers. The assertion quoted from
Marian, that St James preached the gospel in Spain, and to the nations
of western regions, &c., is reflected with more precise affirmation by
Vicentius, who says, that " James, by the will of God directed to the
Irish coast, fearlessly preached the divine word."f On this Usher
observes, that before the separate mission of the apostles, James was
proved to have been put to death by order of Herod; and that other
authors, whom Vincentius had followed, refer the same event, ex-
pressed in the' same language, not to Hibernia but to " Galaecia;" so

* The Monophysites held, that in Christ the Divine and human nature were so
entirely united, that they together constituted a single nature ; y"et this without
any confusion or mixture, or change, sustained by either. The Arephali were a sect
of these, who took this title in consequence of having rejected their chief, Mougus,
of whose conduct they disapproved.

t Usher, Primordia, p. 5.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

that the high probability of a mistake, arising from a literal error,
must have betrayed Vincentius to set down Ibernia for Iberia. We
omit the further consideration of these obscure and vague conjectures:
as to St Paul we may observe, that his history is too distinctly
marked, in a work which is virtually the record of his life and actions,
authenticated by whatever authority is conceded to the inspired -writers,
to allow of an episode so considerable and so obscure.

It is enough to rest on the high probability, that, in the general
mission which spread the gospel far and wide among all the nations of
the known world, Ireland was not passed over; and for this the autho-
rities, though for the most part indirect or merely inferential, are satis-
factory enough.

The state of the Hibernian church was yet evidently at the lowest ;
and probably on the point of yielding to the enmity which the gospel
alone, of all the creeds entertained by man, seems to have elicited
from human nature, in every age and climate. At the coming of St
Patrick, four Christian preachers are mentioned by old Irish testi-
monies to have been before him, and still living in his time. These
were, Ailbe, afterwards first bishop of Emly ; Declan of Ardmore ;
Kieran of Saigre (by successive translation removed to Kilkenny);
and Ibar of Beg Eri, a small island of the Wexford coast.

CHAPTER IIT.

State of the Country on the arrival of the Norwegians — Traditions concerning
their Origin — Authentic History — Religion — Earlier Connexions with England
— With Ireland — Their Invasions during this Period.

DURING the four centuries which elapsed from the death of St.
Patrick, in the early part of the 5th century, to the middle of the
9th, Paganism had disappeared before the preaching of the illus-
trious company of holy men, not inappropriately called saints. Nu-
merous monasteries and churches, though of a rude structure and
mean materials covered the land; and from these the whole of Europe
received a light of Divine knowledge, which was not exceeded by the
ministry of any other church. There was yet a wide and dark interval
between the knowledge of the church and that of the secular classes ;
which gives to the latter, as compared with the former, the character of
extreme barbarism : and, from this cause there is, in all that remains of
the history and monuments of the time, a singular mixture of barbar-
ism and refinement, which has had the effect of casting doubt, diffi-
culty, and varying interpretation upon the whole. But the records, the
literature, and the architectural remains, speak unequivocally as to the
antiquities of the church, and, in a vast variety of instances, the an-
cient record is confirmed by the monument. The ancient fields of
Glendaloch and Clonmacnoise, the venerable remains of Kildare, and
hundreds of other venerable ruins, confirm the legends and traditions

72 EARLY.

of ancient time; although the dwellings of civil strength, the homes of
princes, the palaces of monarchs, and the halls of ancient national
power, have melted away, as the flesh is mouldered from the bones of
other generations.

The institutions of the country, partly the remains of a still more
ancient state of things, partly of the self propagating and continuing
property of all institutions, and perhaps in a greater measure of the
diffusive counsel and influence of a national church, were not desti-
tute of wisdom and civil efficacy to control and regulate the niove-
ments of a barbaric race ; for, such were the chiefs and still more the
population of a country in which the chief pursuits were war and the
chase, the homely and simple elements of the savage state. The re-
mains of the ancient codes, the existence of which was long disputed,
but which have now been placed out of doubt by the translations
of Vallancey, O'Conor, and others, manifest beyond all question much
legislative wisdom; and indicate, by their skill and by their peculiar
structure, the exercise of much knowledge engaged in adapting legis-
lation to a state of society seemingly more primitive and rude than
such knowledge seems to imply. The ports of Ireland were as dis-
tinguished by commercial resort, as her church by superior endow-
ments in holiness and wisdom. The arts were cultivated ; and, though
imperfect and barbaric, yet in a state of advance which undeniably
attests a considerable degree of progress in civilization.

This state of things was, however, to be interrupted by a new suc-
cession of changes from without, which were thenceforward to follow
each other with an increasing force and extent, without any inter-
mission, until they reduced this island to a sad but singular example
of the combined effect of all the disastrous causes which contribute
to the decay of nations.

We have already observed* the peculiarity arising from geogra-
phical position, by which, while this island was protected from the
vast and sweeping wave of universal movement by which the ancient
structure of society was overthrown ; it was, at the same time, exposed
to those minor eddies of the same wave, which found their way through
the channel of navigation and commerce. Instead of the invading
horde, of which the columns extended through provinces, and which
have been described as drinking up the rivers on their desolating
march, the ports of Ireland, from time to time, through a long period,
continued to be visited by the seafaring Phrenician, and next by the
Northern adventurer; and was thus successively, as long as tradi-
tion can trace back, the resort of trade or invasion, each, in its turn,
limited by the scanty resources of the nautical science of those
periods. Of such communications the effects must have needs been
slow in progress, and partial in extent. The changes of manner and
opinion introduced, must have blended themselves slowly with the
ancient fabric of custom ; and conqueror or colonist must be supposed
to have acquired at least as much as they can have communicated.
From such a course, little effect of any kind might seem to be deriva-
ble ; but the inference is different when we refer to the operation of

* First Chapter.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

the continued state of strife, terror, and insecurity now to be described.
This unhappy result is mainly to be traced to the invasions of the
Scandinavian pirates, who, for so many centuries, continued to make
our shores a principal resort. Some account of these will, therefore, form
an appropriate preface to a period chiefly memorable for their actions.
Among the different races who are known, or supposed, to have at any
period found their way to this island, none have a more decided claim
on our notice, than the people now known by the common appellation
of Danes. For ages the chief occupants of the surrounding seas, and
traders to our ports — they became at last a large integral portion of
our population, and continued to maintain a doubtful struggle, of various
success, for the possession of the supremacy of the land, until they were
ultimately subdued and blended with the native population, under the
ascendancy of more powerful invaders. During the whole of this
period, their history takes the lead of that of the native races, with
whose manners and monuments their remains are still inextricably
blended.

Danish Antiquity. — Of the northern nations which exercised so
large an influence on the destinies of the Roman empire, the know-
ledge of the most accurate of the Roman historians was confusec
and conjectural. Of the mingled races which composed the population
of their British, German, and Gaulish territories, their knowledge was
more inadequate still. In these, the various tribes of Goth and Celt,
became variously mixed up, and successive migrations, which, as they
poured on through a long period of ages, found kindred still, and
the remembrances of common custom. The elements of language,
the ancient traditions, the mythological system: the only materials
(such as they are) of a more accurate knowledge were beyond their
reach. They only knew them as the tempest is known by the point
of the compass, from which it carries menace and devastation ; they
were barbarians from the unexplored climates of the north. Thus the
Celt, Goth, and Tartar are confused ; and Zosimus, a writer of the third
century, calls all by the common name of Scythian. The ancestors
of this race soon extended their conquests, and branched into widely
spreading affinities, and into nations confused under many names ; and
to find the clue of probable tradition, we must look chiefly to the
natives themselves.

The northern historians go no farther back than the descent of Odin,
who, about 70 years before the Christian era,* led from Asia a power-
ful tribe of the Indo-Scythian race, and expelled the ancient inhabi-
tants of the shores of the Baltic. From this period the history of the
Scandinavians assumes a form such as belongs to the earliest periods
of the records of nations — that is to say, imperfect, conjectural, and
legendary: overlaid with superstitions and visionary genealogies.

The earliest historian who is entitled to be named in our summary
notice, is Saxo Grammaticus,'f' whose name is familiar to the reader,
as occurring in every English history: Saxo carries back the history
of the Danish kings to a period far beyond the range of probability

* Torfens. Mallet.
f Saio was called Grammaticus from his learuing: he lived in the 12th century.

74 EARLY.

His materials were the hymns of the bards, in which they sung the
praises, and narrated the exploits, of their leaders and heroes ; secondly,
from ancient inscriptions on the rocks, which are still discovered in
the north, as, indeed, they are in every ancient country ; and last, from
the Icelandic chronicles, and the accounts he received from native
scholars. It will be needless here to dwell on the objections to these
sources. The Icelandic chronicles, which are by far the least affected
by defect and corruption, are, to a comparatively recent period, little
worthy of trust : largely alloyed with poetic allegory, and mythological
marvel, they cannot be said to commence till after the establishment
of Christianity in those northern regions. According to this statement,
a long and dark chasm separates the time of Odin from the period of
trustworthy history (about eleven centuries). This long interval is
filled up by tradition, and the songs of the Scalds.

We should not pass on without a few words to gratify the curiosity
of our reader, as to the importance here assigned to an island
apparently so obscure and isolated as Iceland. This island, made
additionally interesting to the Irish antiquary by the traditions and
ancient remains which indicate, unquestionably, an early communica-
tion with Ireland, was early famous for the cultivation of History and
Poetry: the former perhaps consequent on the latter, and both prac-
tised by a class known by the name of Scalds. The islanders are said
to have been a colony from Norway, who, late in the 9th century, fled
from the tyranny of Harold Harfagre ; and who still continued to hold
intercourse with their parent land. Among these, in the quiet seclu-
sion of their island, it seems probable that the arts then existing should
flourish, and that records collected from tradition should assume some-
thing of a permanent form.

Their History. — On the first period of the history of these nations,
there does not appear much difference. The main incidents of Odin's
life are tolerably certain, and derive some confirmation from their con-
nexion with the authentic history of Rome in the time of Julius Caesar.
A few years before the birth of Christ, Mithridates, the king of
Pontus (now Georgia), pursued by the victorious legions of Pompey,
had contrived to rouse to arms against his invader, the numerous and
formidable races who inhabited the surrounding districts of Armenia,
Cappadocia, Iberia, and other Persian provinces, forming the frontier
between it and Scythia. The alliance was, however, unequal to resist
the ascendance of the Roman arms; Mithridates was slain, and the
tribes which had espoused his fortune were subjected to the law of
conquest. From this calamity, however, multitudes withdrew towards
the more impenetrable regions of Scythia. Of these fugitives, we arc
told by Snorro the earliest historian of Norway, Odin, whose name was
originally Sigge, was a leader. Desirous to place himself and his fol-
lowers, beyond the far extending grasp of Roman conquest, he led his
army away into the northern regions of Europe, subduing on his march
the earlier inhabitants, and settling on his sons the different kingdoms
thus acquired. Having thus effected settlements in Saxony, West-
phalia, Franconia, and part of Russia, he went on into the realms of
Scandinavia, and conquering wherever he went, obtained and settled
in like manner the sovereignty of Sweden, Denmark, and Norway.

HISTOEICAL INTBODUCTION.

Having acquired absolute dominion over these countries, he intro-
duced the laws and religion of his own country; and having himself
assumed the name of its chief god, Woden or Odin, he received divine
honours from all the surrounding princes. These arrangements
being fully completed, he perceived symptoms of the approach of death,
but resolving not to die by a lingering disease, and desirous to crown
his achievements by a heroic example, he assembled his sons and
followers, and in their presence inflicted on himself nine wounds in
the form of a circle. While dying he told them that he was returning
into Scythia, to assume his place at the eternal banquet of the gods,
where he would receive with honour the brave who should fall in the
ranks of war.

This statement could be confirmed from many indirect authorities
and coincidences, with which the Icelandic annalists could not have
been acquainted. Travellers of modern times have frequently re-
marked and described the close resemblances long preserved between
the manners and customs of Norway and Sweden, and those of the
Georgians. Such agreements are in their nature transient, but the
antiquities of both countries present abundant and distinct confirma-
tions. If, however, this link of descent be admitted, on the ground of
the general consent of historians : the next, when we state the dogmas
of their religion, will present itself unlocked for to the reader of
English history in its most accessible forms : the coincidence between
the ancient Danish and Anglo-Saxon creeds is unquestioned: the
romance of Ivanhoe must have made it universally known to all
readers. In the simplicity of the primitive structures of society, the
manners and institutions of nations were either largely modified by
their religious notions, or entirely formed from them; and to this
latter class may be referred the manners and institutions of the Danes
and Saxons. The history of their gods, and the description of their
notions of worship, will afford the clearest ideas of the people them-
selves.

Religion Their mythology, devised by the policy of their warlike

leader, had for its main object to create a nation of warriors, bound
by a religious veneration to their founder's race, enthusiastic in their
love of war, and prodigal of their blood. It was necessarily built on
their primitive Persian creed, and naturally ornamented by Eastern
imagination. Of such a system, the gods were Odin and his sons,
Thor, &c., with other inferior divinities. The most pleasing sacrifice
to these was the death of an enemy, and their altar was the field of
battle. To die in peace, by a natural death, was considered by them
as the worst of evil and disgrace, and they who fell in battle, accord-
ing to the institution of Odin, were conducted by the Dysse to their
heaven Valhalla, where the fortunate spirits of the brave passed their
mornings in the stormy delights of a fierce and bloody fight, in which
they enjoyed, in superhuman perfection, the luxury of being cut to
pieces. The body thus dismembered, came together again in a state
of perfect health, and with an excellent appetite for supper — the next
great reward and pleasure of the brave. At this meal they passed
the afternoon and night, feasting on the boar Serimner, who having
thus been, like his eaters, cut piecemeal, and passed through the added

EARLY.

delights of mastication and digestion, was like them also whole, antl
fresh as ever for the chase and revel of the following day. The im-
mortal diet was washed down by endless draughts of mead, milked
from a she-goat, in sufficient quantity to make them all dead drunk.
This they drank out of the skulls of their enemies. This state was
to continue until, at some period in remote futurity, the powers of evil,
led on by the dreadful giant Lok, were to prevail over the gods of
Valhalla: a notion which will remind the reader of the similar
feature of Indian mythology, brought out into such vivid and startling
effect by Mr Southey, in his Curse of Kehama. In strict keeping with
the same impressive mythology, in which the innate superstition of the
mind is touched on its deepest chord, by the mysterious impression of
Fate brooding with terrific indistinctness in the dark distance of
futurity, the gods of Valhalla knew their doom from oracles ; and not
being able to avert it, they exerted their power over its instrumental
agents, the children of Lok, by consigning them to places of imprison-
ment, from which they should not escape for ages. Of these places,
the most graphic description we have met, is from Mr Southey's
account of the religion of the Danes; these we shall present to our
reader in his language: — " This Loke had three dreadful offspring by
a giantess. The wolf Fenris was one, the Great Serpent was the second,
and Hela, or Death, the third." " Hela he placed in Rifleheim, and
appointed her to govern the nine dolorous worlds, to which all who die
of sickness or old age are fated. Grief is her hall and Famine her
table, Hunger her knife, Delay and Slackness her servants, Faintness her
porch, and Precipice her gate ; Cursing and Howling are her tent, and
her bed is Sickness and Pain. The Great Serpent he threw into the
middle of the ocean ; but there the monster grew till, with his length,
he encompassed the whole globe of the earth. The wolf Fenris they
bred up for a while among them, and then by treachery bound him in
an enchanted chain, fastened it to a rock, and sunk him deep in the
earth. The gods also imprisoned Loke in a cavern, and suspended a
snake over his head, whose venom fell drop by drop upon his face. The
deceit and cruelty which the gods used against this race could riot,
however, change that order of events which the oracles had foretold ;
that dreadful time, which is called the twilight of the gods, must at
length arise. Loke and the wolf Fenris will then break loose, and,
with the Great Serpent, and the Giants of the frost, and Surtur with
his fiery sword, and all the powers of Muspelheim, pass over the bridge
of heaven, which will break beneath them. The gods and all the
heroes of Valhalla will give them battle. Thor, the strongest of the
race of Odin, will slay the great serpent, but be himself suffocated by
the floods of poison which the monster vomits forth. Loke and Hiem-
dale will kill each other. The wolf Fenris, after devouring the sun,
will devour Odin also, and himself be rent in pieces by Vidac, the son
of Odin ; and Surtur with his fires will consume the whole world — gods,
heroes, and men, perishing in the conflagration. Another and a bet-
ter earth will afterwards arise — another sun, other gods, and a hap-
pier race of men." Such is a summary but correct outline of the
Danish mythology. Among its practical tenets, the reader will have
been struck by one which appears the same in principle with that

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

peculiar tenet of the Koran, which once gave its fearful edge ot
power to the desolating fanaticism of the Turkish hordes. The creed
which held forth a state of perfect enjoyment according to the tastes
and passions of its believers, as the exclusive reward of those who
died in battle, and appended the penalty of its hell to a peaceful death,
was the efficient principle of a barbarian valour, scarcely to be resisted
by those who regarded life as a certain good and death as an evil.
The Dane looked on a peaceful death as the greatest evil, and sought
to obviate its dreadful consequences by a voluntary and violent death.
" A bay in Sweden," writes Mr Southey, " surrounded by high rocks,
which was one of the places frequented for this purpose, is still called
the hall of Odin." Such was the mythology which may be traced,
with some slight modifications, in the early history of the Saxon and
Scandinavian races.

If we compare the incidents of their history, with those of the
antiquity of the Irish race, we are met by remarkable coincidences
tmd contrasts. On this point, before proceeding further, we think
it right to remark, that while we agree with those writers who
have found, in the differences between the ancient Celtic and these
northern superstitions, the most intelligible marks of a different
origin, we are yet inclined to receive the inference with much quali-
fication. In both we apprehend that the characters of an earlier com-
mon origin are sufficiently plain. The Celts appear to have retained
in a purer form the elementary superstitions of the East, which the
Goths overlaid with the structure of a political system, of which the
beginnings can be discerned in the institutions of a warlike settlement,
and of which the legendary additions of Scaldic poetry, was the suc-
cessive growth from the genius and superstitions of after ages. While
the creed of the Celt, retaining the characters of primeval idolatry,
can point by point be compared with the mythology and ritual of
ancient Persia, that of the Scandinavian is with still greater ease
traceable to the deification of its founder and his sons, with the laws
and customs which their inventors chose to clothe in the more per-
manent garb of a religion. While the Celts adored the celestial
luminaries, and either worshipped or regarded as sacred the element
of fire, attached a solemn and impervious mystery to their sacred ritt s,
and adopted the refined Eastern creed of absorption or transmigration ;
the Scandinavian, more physical in his mythology, and more strictly
adapting his notions of human destination to the grosser purpose and
policy of this life, devised a religion more practical and conformable
to human pursuits and duties, hopes, fears, and desires. Their chief
gods were thus, in the first place, the sun and moon, remains of a more
primitive belief; to these were added the later elements of this more
peculiar superstition, less elemental and refined, and yet not present-
ing less awful and magnificent images to the imagination.

The remains and traditions from which the earliest conjectures
can be formed of the inhabitants of Ireland antecedent to the First
Period of our hisiory — seem to indicate a combination of the Scythian
mingled with some former race. And it is not improbable that a colony
of the ancestors of the Danes were, in some simpler stage of their
national state, blended with the primitive Irish: leaving thus the

EARLY.

customs and remains which actually seem to indicate such a combina-
tion. " The fertile Erin," says a northern writer, " was long the great
resort of the Scandinavians."* Lochlin, the Celtic name of Scandinavia,
by which it is so often named in the remains of Scottish and Irish poetry
— seems to affirm such an intimacy to have existed. The poems of
Ossian or Macpherson (to the point in question, it is indifferent which,
as the ground is unquestionably Irish), and Highland tradition and
poetry, strongly corroborate the supposition ; to this is to be added the
general consent of the earliest traditions : and lastly, the opinion of the
most industrious and informed writers, who have given their time and
thoughts to this class of investigations. The Scandinavian legends
contain as distinct affirmations of the fact of this early intercourse, as
the legends and ancient annals of Ireland ; and while in a former chapter
we were engaged in the view of remains which seemed to confirm the
traditions of an Eastern origin and a Phrenician intercourse, we were
lost in every direction among monuments of nearly equal antiquity,
which seem, with not inferior evidence, to indicate the intermixture of
a northern race. The mysteries of the Edda seem to have left their
traces among the tracks of the Oriental worshippers of the Sabean creed,
and — having perhaps clashed among the sects of times antecedent to
distinct tradition — to have left remains equally to perplex the faith and
embroil the creeds of antiquarian scholars and theorists. This, indeed,
is one of the main difficulties of Irish antiquity : the heterogeneous cha-
racter of its indications not only suggest and support the spirit of con-
troversy, but, what is far worse, supply, in a very unusual degree, ma-
terial for the most contradictory theories. Whether or not the Loch-
landers were the same Danish race who, in the 8th century, became
so formidable to the British isles, may be a difficult, and is perhaps
a trifling question; but there is no doubt that it designated some
northern race in the earliest traditions of Ireland. To prove that
these were the Danes many ancient authorities have been advanced ;
but these are justly affirmed to be simply the copyists of a single
writer, himself not to be respected as an authority.f In a previous
part of this volume, we have already intimated our belief, formed
on the perusal of various and opposing writers, that the peculiarities
of disagreement, on the evidence of wiiich they have inferred generic
distinctions, in reality, but indicate the branchings of separation in the
pedigree of nations; while the analogies and agreements, many of
which can neither be referred to accident nor resolved in any gene-
ral law of nature, must (unless by the abandonment of all grounds of
investigation) be admitted as derived from the same original source.
And before leaving the subject, we cannot refrain from observing,
that amongst the writers who have expressly engaged in inquiries
upon this difficult and obscure subject, by far the greater number, if
uot all, seem to be embarrassed by a false assumption, either expressed
or understood, which has had the effect of imparting a fallacy to their
speculations, and embarrassed them in needless difficulties. To state
this distinctly might require a wider digression than we can hore
afford. The learned antiquary too often appears to labour under an

* Cited by Mr Moore.

f Saxo Grammalicus.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

impression, that he must attain the objects of his inquiry, only by such
reasons and authorities as may not be irreconcilable with the specu-
lations and theories of philosophers, whose reasonings are grounded
in denials of authority, and lead to no conclusion. There appears tc
be established a tacit consent that nothing is to be admitted but re-
condite and unsettled authorities : and nothing concluded inconsistent
with unascertained theories. The very Christian divine, who in his
pulpit stands upon the authority of the inspired writings as the im-
movable basis of Divine truth, fixed as the foundations of the universe,
but too often labours under the gross inconsistency of imagining, that
in questions of ancient history, this one only unexceptionably authentic
basis of such questions is to be thrown overboard in deference to in-
quirers, to whom least of all is due on the score of soundness or know-
ledge ; and appears to have taken for granted, that the accounts which
are true in subjects of religion, might be questionable in history. In
consequence of this most rash and unjustifiable fallacy, it has become
customary amongst modern inquirers to pursue their speculations
either in direct or indirect opposition to two fundamental facts, which
are the only certain and tangible first principles of ancient history.
These are, first, that all races of mankind are from one race, whose
descent and first divisions are recorded with a certainty as unerring
as the reigns of the lines of Tudor, Stewart, and Hanover; and
secondly, that all creeds and old mythologies have their foundations
in one original religion, and are but variously modified branches of
the same errors. From the neglect of these principles has arisen the
confusion of opinions, and the contradictory language and reasoning
of writers, upon the various questions which we have been obliged to
touch upon in this volume far too glancingly for the difficult and per-
plexed nature of this subject of national antiquity. We shall therefore,
we trust, be excused if we endeavour briefly to explain the application
of these two fundamental data. If we set out with the assumption of
the truth of the Pentateuch, a rule of reason presents itself, which is
verified by all that is authentic fact in the history of nations : and by this
rule the most perplexing confusion of indications becomes simply ex-
plicable, and the learned gentlemen who pelt each other with misplaced
monuments, and confute each other in very good Gothic, Celtic, or
Phoenician, may shake hands, and be reconciled in the confidence of a
common ancestry. Descended from a common origin in the East, the
different races of mankind, as earlier periods of their history are ap-
proached, present common characters to the inquirer. Descending
along the stream of ages, as new customs and varied elements of civi-
lization are acquired from the accidents of locality and the varying
circumstances and combinations which time brings forth, wide diver-
sities of national character become developed, so far different as to
justify the cursory inquirer in a notion of a total difference of origin
and descent ; while, at the same time, the remains of aboriginal cus-
tom, tradition, mythology, and language, can be traced ; and transfor-
mations, wide in proportion as time and circumstances tend to vary
them, remain to present the materials of discussion and theory. From
these remains, on a partial view, it is evident how false inferences
may be drawn, as to the immediate connexion between any two races

EARLY.

of a common stock, which may chance to become subjects of inquiry.
Hence one vast source of uncertainty. Hence the remoter affinities
of language, from which so much specious inference has been drawn,
to the great discredit of etymology. Similarly the sceptical infer-
ence derived from the many forms of human mythology, rendered
nugatory by a consideration not resting on doubtful enquiry : the
certainty of the fundamental elements of all religion being derived
from one, and the high probability of much being retained in common
by many. The separations of creed need not be supposed to have been
all sudden ramifications from this primal form ; for such is not the true
descent of human opinion. A few great leading branches were, by
many degrees and in the course of many vicissitudes, ramified into
further forms, distinguished by slight shades of belief. In the long
lapse of ages, causes similar to those from which differing national
states have been formed, under the varied control of climate, produce,
position, and accident, transformed creeds, founded on the same basis
into widely differing religious beliefs. To pursue the subject further
\vould be digressive, but the train is obvious which connects it with the
whole of our remarks.

Danish Invasions in the 8th Century — The race of invaders who
occupy the most prominent position in our present period, though little
subject to any difficult or doubtful inquiry, are left in considerable ob-
scurity by the Irish annalists, who, until a later period, only mention
them under the appellation of strangers, Galls, Gentiles, dwellers on
the lakes, or pirates. Their first communication with our shores, to
whatever period it may be referred, was early. In the middle, and
towards the end of the 8th century, however, their naval power had
usurped the northern seas and harbours ; and their flag, unrivalled on
the deep, was the terror of every coast. Commerce had not then
established its equitable conventions, nor had Christianity yet diffused
its humanizing moral sense : the chief object of navigation was piracy,
and piracy was not held dishonourable. The least formidable end of
the naval expedition was colonization — seldom to be effected without
bloodshed. Accordingly, both the English and Irish history of this
period derive their chief features from the struggles of the inhabitants
of either country, against the continued successive aggressions and
territorial usurpations of these strangers. Often appearing in small
parties, they surprised the coasts ; and, before resistance could be col-
lected, the villages and churches were blazing, and the spoil and cap-
tives on the sea with their captors. At times availing themselves of
the dissensions of the native chiefs or the wars of petty kings, they
espoused the party that had most to offer or least to lose, and obtained
advantages from both. But the broader features of the history of
that period, are the results of the large settlements they effected in
the British isles. Hardly had the possession of Britain been left un-
occupied by the Roman empire, then in its decline, when the Saxons,
a branch of the same Scandinavian race, obtained the mastery of the
island; nor were they well settled in their possession, when they were
followed by their Danish and Norwegian kindred. In 789 and 832
they had made destructive attacks upon the coast. In 835 they
effected a still more formidable landing. Early in the course of this

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 81

century, they were masters of the northern provinces; and, in the
10th and llth centuries, their kings sat upon the throne of England.
In Ireland the incidents in their history are contemporary with these.
In the reign of Aidan Ornidhe their approaches began to take a
more formidable character than they had previously assumed. In 807
they landed in considerable force ; and, entering Connaught, ravaged
the country as far as Roscommon, which they burnt ; and in 8 1 8 they
had, after different struggles of varying fortune, obtained settlements
and a tyrannical ascendancy in the island. The tyrant Turgesius
then commenced a reign of thirty years ; and that unhappy series of
calamitous burnings and spoliations, which form so much of our his-
tory for the two following centuries, had set in.

During the course of these disastrous visitations, it should be ob-
served, that they were rendered additionally destructive and difficult
to be guarded against, by the nature of the Danish armaments. Un-
combined by the connecting principle of any single or supreme com-
mand, they consisted of distinct piratical associations, under the
separate conduct of the chiefs who were, by wealth or influence,
enabled to collect under their flag a sufficient band of these ferocious
adventurers. From this it constantly occurred, that one strong body
of spoilers was followed by another, and that their enterprises were
too uncertain and desultory to be guarded against ; nor, were there the
force and the will, to meet these by any uniform and systematic resist-
ance; while they were still fully strong enough for the insurance of
general success.

General Remarks on this Period. — The few and uncertain lights
to be derived from the annalists of this period, and the still less
distinct gleams of Irish tradition to be extracted from ancient foreign
writers, combine to indicate a state of internal disorder, not more
the result of foreign invasions and the usurpations of the Ostmen
or Danes, than of the tyranny and unchecked ambition of the native
rulers. If the Danish pagan obeyed the love of plunder, or the vindic-
tive impulses of continued aggression and resistance, which prompted
him to carry fire and slaughter into the sacred institutions of a religion
which he despised: the profane contempt of sacred things, so much at
all times the ruling impulse of the secular spirit, was careless to pro-
tect them. But it was more particularly reserved for the early part
of the 9th century, to exhibit a native race of kings contending with
the sacrilegious Dane in the violation of church property, and in dis-
regard of the sanctity of religious communities. What the Dane left
behind in the fulness of spoliation, the native leader gleaned with
cupidity as relentless. It would be difficult to select a fact more ex-
planatory of the calamities of this disastrous era. A contempt for
religion deprives the land of its protecting influences. The spoilers
of the church can have no reverence for God, and are, in any time,
little likely to be restrained by any consideration. It is religion only,
protecting and equalizing in proportion to its purity and freedom from
error, which presents still, in every form of which Christian truth is
the basis, a protecting shelter to the rights and personal immunities of
that crowd, which never can have any other permanent protection. In
the laws of man there is neither stability against popular encroach-

i. F Ir.

EARLY.

ment, nor the usurpations of power, nor the corruptions of abuse;
and, while the very authorities by which alone laws can be preserved
are also the shelter of their privileged abuses, the resistance of popular
combination, however overwhelming in its ebullitions, has in it neither
the wisdom which regards right nor the permanence which can secure
it. Opinion itself, and the respect for public feeling, had it existed in
those less civilized periods as a principle, is still dependent on the know-
ledge and certainty of the facts which must be the basis of that feel-
ing or opinion ; nor is there in the wide range of human notions one
so capable of exerting an equalizing, protecting, and restraining influ-
ence as religion. In its nature susceptible of every modification which
the varied stages of human progress may require, its entire power is
derived from its immediate operation on the first principle of human
action — influencing the motive before it condemns or approves the act.
Its seat of power is the conscience ; and it is not more effective in
resisting evil than, with a power unknown to human enactments, in
enforcing duty.

These considerations become the more apparently applicable, on the
stricter inspection of the state of Ireland through the 10th century. It
was a period replete with all the elements of social transition; and,
considering the state of the national institutions, no change that could
well have happened can be now regarded with reasonable regret. A
religion, degenerated into superstition, had lost its vital principle and
conservative influences ; it could neither protect itself nor give shelter
to the people. The kings were tyrants, the people slaves, and the
land torn asunder in a contest between the tyrant and the invader.
Sometimes a more warlike chieftain succeeded for a time in repelling
an aggressor who was not to be wholly arrested in a progress founded
on superior arms and civilization: but the progress of the Danes was
strictly progressive in its character ; and, if the English had not some
centuries after obtained possession of the land, the irresistible course
of causes must have given it to them.

The civilization which tradition and the evidence of national
remains claim for this country at early periods, has in some degree
stood in the way of the historian who has endeavoured to reconcile it
with the more authentic barbarism of later times. But however the
facts may be settled, there is no difficulty in the commentary. Allow-
ing all that the most imaginative antiquary will presume to claim
for the brightest age of Irish civilization — and it is still but something
comparative between a milder barbarism and the dark state of the
surrounding nations, had it even continued unimpaired in positive
lustre — yet the progress of nations had attained a stage in which
the comparison changed sides, and the poetry and polity of our anti-
quity stood amidst another order of things, like a petrifaction of the past
amidst the living forms of the present, until swept away by surround-
ing movements, and the waters of change from without. The law of
national being, by which no nation can stand still amid the universal
progress of surrounding nations, operated even at this early period as it
must sooner or later operate ; but the civilization of the invader was,
in some respects, on the same level with, and in others below, the
nation they aimed to obtain possession of. Advanced in arms, com-

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

merce, and the arts of life, they were still, like the natives, rude and
incapable of comprehending or acting on the more enlarged and toler-
ant principles of humanity and justice. Hence their occupation of
such portions of the country as they obtained, was held by violence
and the pressure of continued encroachment and outrage.

The occupation of Ireland by the Danes may be regarded as a step
of transition in the same progress, by which it afterwards became sub-
ject to the power of England. But while the unprogressive character
of the native Irish exposed their country, at all times, more peculiarly
to the usurpation of other nations, it also, in some degree, stood in the
way of that amelioration which, under favourable circumstances, is to
be derived from the mixture with a more civilized population. The
native Irish character, separated by strong peculiarities, refused the
tinge of other habits and foreign affinities of feeling; and, with their
native talents and natural fine qualities, continued still but barbarians
of a subtler kind.

Were it worth while, it would be easy to show, that in such a state of
things the advance of the social system must have been slow, and that
vast changes nearly revolutionary in their nature must have occurred,
to enable Ireland to take a place in the ranks of those nations which,
with lesser seeming advantages, were at the same time passing onward,
through many changes, into the form which they have at present
But it will be enough for our purpose, to mark the actual course of
events. In England the national changes, from which the stages of
her history are reckoned, were in their general character diffusive
and total. However vast and violent may have been the havoc with
which they seem to have overwhelmed the nation, it was yet pro-
longed by no divided elements of internal action. The result was, a
long interval of quiet ; and the natural tendency of even the most im-
perfect institutions to progress, was suffered to work on for ages, and
to produce their effects in the growth of the social frame. But in
Ireland it was far otherwise. All the interruptions which disturbed
her social advance were partial and indecisive. Too strong to be
repressed and too weak to become total, the result was a national
struggle prolonged through ages. — a slow and lingering revolution :
destructive not only by the social wreck, but by the interruption to
progress it caused, it not only impaired the health, but dwarfed the
growth. By their native bravery repressing the advances, and
often nearly arresting the progress, of their Danish neighbours —
but still neither acquiring their commercial industry or their military
discipline — they continued, through the whole of the Danish period,
to retrograde in power and knowledge ; until the English found them
without the power, means, or knowledge of resistance ; and, in point
of fact, owing their most effectual defences, which in some measure
retarded the success of a small handful of adventurers, to the vigour
and skill of their Danish countrymen. Of these the history is in every
way interesting. It must ever be felt to hold an important place in
the history of a country which, of all others, is best worthy of the
historian's attention — for its obscure connexion with antiquity, for the
curious anomalies it offers to inquiry, and for the singular record it
contains of a romantic and unfortunate people.

84 EARLY.

Unhappily, the history of a people who, for many centuries, held so
large a place in this country, is far less distinct than should reasonably
be expected. Neither the Irish annals — which on all subjects are meagre
and, on such subjects as involved national feeling, prejudiced — give any
distinct information; nor are the native records of these Danish adven-
turers more satisfactory. Distinct and full information was not indeed
the produce of the era. History — the literature of modern times — was
in its infancy. The records of the most advanced people of the time is
meagre, corrupt, and defective. In Scandinavia, as in Ireland, if it
embodied anything more than the mere dry calendar of principal events,
it was but the excrescence of superstition and poetic invention.

CHAPTER IV.

Closing Events to the Conquest — State of the Country at this Period — General
Causes of the English Invasion — Means of Resistance — Calamitous Period which
followed — Question of Conquest — Manners — Conclusion.

Closing Events of the previous Period. — The fatal precedent of
Bryan's usurpation had generally excited the disposition of the aspiring
and unscrupulous to pursue the same course. The right of succession,
rendered venerable by custom, and protected by the very prejudices of
the nation, when once deprived of this old constitutional safeguard, was
laid open as a tempting prize to the ambition of the strongest. Neither
the monarchical crown, or the right of alternate inheritance could,
unless under favourable circumstances, any more be peacefully trans-
mitted from branch to branch of the respective families of Munster
and Tara; but became the object of a contention liable to recur
whenever the golden prize seemed attainable by whatever stretch of
right. The consequence was, the rapid diffusion of a spirit of intrigue
which degraded, and of dissension which weakened the greater chiefs ;
while the country, thus exposed to perpetual broils, and deprived of
the tranquil workings of those longer intervals of peace which lead to
the increase of civilization, gradually, but with no slow descent, be-
came degraded into a state of barbarism, of which the consequences
were fatal to many generations. On Turlogh's death, Munster was
divided among his three sons. Of these, one soon dying, a fierce and
lingering contest commenced between Murkertach and Dermot, the
remaining brothers. Murkertach, at the outset, succeeded so far as to
obtain possession of the throne. But Dermot, who had been obliged
to take refuge in Connaught, found a powerful alliance in the kings of
the other provinces. This alliance was indeed, so far as Dermot's ob-
ject was concerned, no better than specious : as enmity to Murkertach,
who claimed the monarchy, was rather the object, than regard for him.
But a fiercer and stronger motive actuated Domnal O'Lochlin, the
rightful claimant of the throne — who boldly announced his right, and
his resolution to maintain it. He was met by the fatal plea of the new
order of things above explained; it was as if the herald's trumpet had
proclaimed among the princes of the land, " there is an end to right

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 85

for evermore;" a call to the inheritance of unremitting strife, when the
only resource of strife was the field of battle.

O'Lochlin was joined in arms by the king of Connaught, and pru-
dently suppressing all present mention of his own claims, he marched,
under the pretence of redressing Dermot's wrongs, against Murker-
tach. Invading Munster, he spread desolation from Limerick, " as far
as Imieach Ibar, the castle of Ached and Lochgar."* Nor did he
pause in his destructive course until he laid the palace of Kincora in
ruin. As was common enough in the warfare of that period, Murkertach
retaliated, by pursuing a separate march of devastation up the Shannon,
where, sparing neither sacred or profane, he plundered the churches
and the people with an indiscriminating fury. Having carried destruc-
tion here to an extent rarely experienced from a native prince ; Mur-
kertach next entered the province of Leinster, which he reduced to
submission, and seizing possession of Dublin, he expelled 'its Danish
king and assumed the government himself.

The next step of this contest, contrasted with the former, exhibits,
in a strong point of view, one of the most fatal characters of Irish war-
fare— that the people were the entire sufferers. All these wars were,
in the main, against property : in destroying its security, they diminish-
ed the motive for its improvement, and thus took away the very first
principle of civilization. The " quicquid delirant reges" of the Poet,
never had, in Homer's fierce confederacy of royal warriors, an applica-
tion so fearfully true as here. Neither, it must be added, did these
desolating contests effect the only advantages to be drawn from habitual
strife — the preparation to resist a common foe. Of this, the proof will
ere long be apparent. Each of the chiefs had, it is likely, enriched
himself with the plunder of a province. But when it came to the point
when blows and bloodshed were to risk the nicely-balanced chance
of war between two princes of equal abilities and resources, the pru-
dence of a compromise became obvious.

The two princes feeling that nothing was likely to be gained by
farther strife, came to an agreement to settle their difference by a
mutual compromise. Meeting at Lough Neagh, they pledged them-
selves upon the relics of saints, and by oaths of the most solemn import,
to divide the kingdom of Ireland ; according to the well-known ancient
line which separated the northern Leath Cuinn, from the southern Leath
Mogh. Of these the latter was to be possessed by Murkertach, the for-
mer by O'Lochlin. This treaty was witnessed by Meleachlin prince of
Meath, and O'Connor king of Connaught, who are supposed to have,
jointly with Murkertach, acknowledged the supremacy of O'Lochlin.

The inconclusiveness of such pledges was among the most especial
evils of the age. The passions, excited by ambition and emulation,
having their operation within the contracted sphere of provincial autho-
rity, acquired the virulence of personal feelings ; and being let loose
by the demolition of ancient restraints, were no longer to be constrain-
ed by pledges, the sole effect of which could be to give the conscience
an effective influence. The reverence for customary barriers, and still
more the respect for the law of opinion, ever the main controllers of

* Four Masters.

86 EARLY.

the vast majority of human minds that are not subject to any higher
control, had been recently demolished; and henceforward the only
security for the most consecrated right, was to be the power to hold it.

The hereditary right to the monarchy was unquestionably in the
family of O'Lochlin, the representative of the southern branch of the
Hy-Niel dynasty ; while- Murkertach's right could have no other
foundation than in the usurpation of his great-grandfather Bryan,
maintained by the disputed ascendancy of the intervening ancestors.
A long and sanguinary struggle followed, which exposed the rival
princes to various changes of fortune, and brought on a ruinous disso-
lution of laws, moral feelings, religious reverence, all the sanctions oi
opinion and habit, and all the holds and interests of social life. Through-
out the country, the law of vested right (if we may apply a term which
has acquired a technical sense) was virtually abolished, and it was open
to every small proprietor (the real character of these petty princes) to
avail himself of force or fraud to assail his neighbour's right. The
annals of the next thirty years attest the evils of such a state of things,
with more than their wonted prevalence of sanguinary record.

Leading his army into Ulster, Murkertach caused the palace of
Aileach to be razed to the foundation, and similarly destroyed all the
surrounding churches in the district. He was in this violent step
actuated by a vindictive recollection of the fate of his ancestors' palace
of Kincora. It is easy for those who can have felt the natural affec-
tion for the seat of hereditary youthful recollections, to understand
the impulse, though carried, in this instance, far below the level of
generous or manly indignation. But we recognise the spirit of the
age, and the revenge of the barbarian in the command, to leave no stone
in Aileach, but to bear all that could be carried away to Limerick. A
deed which appears to have found its praise or censure in the poetry
of the age — " Let not the congregation of the saints hear what has
reached the congregation of warriors, that all the stones of Alichia
were heaped on the pack-horses of the angry king." *

Notwithstanding the signal overthrow and the numerous disasters
which the Danes had experienced in Ireland, it is sufficiently apparent
that there was no decided interruption to the real progress of that in-
dustrious and persevering nation, in acquiring the rights of naturaliza-
tion and the privileges of superior civilization in the country. The
slaughters and defeats so often recorded by the annalists, were hardly
so decisive as they are made to seem in those brief entries, and they
were more than counterbalanced by successes of a similar nature.
The truth is in some measure concealed from the reader of the history
of those periods, from the tone of misrepresentation unconsciously
adopted by the patriotism of our historians. The true position of the
Danes, at this period, is best to be understood by viewing them as a
sept of Irish, distinguished from the other septs by some peculiar civil
as well as natural characteristics. They were intermixed with them
in the alliances of peace and the collisions of strife, as the septs and
tribes were amongst each other ; forming similar alliances by treaty
and intermarriage, and when in peace living on terms of good- will and

* Moore, ii'. 163.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 87

intercourse with the bordering1 districts. But in their collisions with
the natives, there was this very conceivable cause of difference — the
reproach of foreign blood: hostility naturally seeks to discover and
aggravate all considerations from which reproach may grow; the ap-
peal to popular or national feeling, the effort which resentment will
ever make to expand its private wrong into a common cause, could
not fail to seize on the reproach of a foreign origin, a different creed,
or to charge as peculiar, the crimes common to all. This ancient
artifice of faction has found its hollow echo in the despicable cant of
the spurious or fanciful patriotism of modern times. But on a sober
comparison of facts, it becomes clear beyond reasonable doubt, that
in this interval between the battle of Clontarf and the invasion of the
English, the Danes had become not only a portion of the nation, but
a main support of its fast decline of power and civilization, and its
most effective defence in the shock of a new revolution. Their de-
scendants, at this moment, form a considerable portion of the people
of Ireland, which, in reality, derives its descent from the mingled
blood of three nations. Nor, indeed, can it with strict truth be said,
that the ancient Irish race has any existence now in that unmixed
state, which the blind fondness of nationality is desirous to assume.
In some future period, when a happier juncture of circumstances shall
have extended to our people the blessing of civilization, it will be found
that this mixed race combines most of the best qualities of the triple
ancestry, which its demagogues would tempt it to disclaim.

The conversion of the Danes to Christianity had removed the great
barrier between them and the native population. This conversion was
in some respects imperfect ; but if it was, the Christianity of the nation
was long fallen from its influence and purity. The standard of primi-
tive faith, long preserved in the sequestered Irish church, had at
length been lowered both in doctrine and moral efficacy by the secu-
larizing influence which corrupted the European churches.

This union between the Irish and Danes, was, however, much re-
tarded by the continuance of northern descents upon the island. The
continued transfusion of foreign blood and spirit, must have retarded
a combination, dependent on the increasing affinities of habit and
mutual interest. During Murkertach's reign, many of these fresh
hostile importations had taken place. Of these, some are of sufficient
importance and magnitude for distinct notice. Godred, an Iceland chief,
came over with a considerable armament, and made himself master of
Dublin, and a large tract of Leinster ; having for some time, by means
of his fleet, tyrannized over the surrounding seas, and restricted within
narrow limits the commercial intercourse of the British Isles, his name
disappears in the obscurity of the chronicles of the age. A more im-
portant enemy was the celebrated* Magnus, king of Norway, the

* In that singularly bold and original masterpiece, The Pirate, Sir Walter Scott
has given to this race a celebrity which brings them into strong relief from the
obscure canvas of northern tradition. Few of our readers will fail to recollect the
Runic incantations and sublime phrenzy of " Norna of the Fitful Head," or to
recall old Magnus, the descendant of the pirate sea-kings, in his marine villa, ap-
propriately built and furnished with the spoil of shipwrecks and the plunder of
nations.

EARLY.

Hebrides, and the Isle of Man. The marriage of his son, Sigurd, with
the daughter of Murkertach, seemed, to his grasping policy, to open a
•way to the extension of his dominion into Ireland. The Irish monarch
having, with the wonted faithlessness of the period, violated the terms
of the treaty which had been made on this union, Magnus made a
descent on the island. The result was unfortunate — the natives con-
trived to surprise his force by one of those manoeuvres for which they
seem to have had at all times a peculiar genius : the Norwegian king
was entangled in the hidden terrors of a numerous ambush, and, with
his army, cut off without the power of effective resistance.

Mr Moore, in this period of his history, quotes William of Malmes-
bury in support of the important surmise, that the commerce between
England and Ireland was then more habitual than is generally sup-
posed. The inference seems unquestionably to follow; and yet it is
easier to doubt the fidelity or the information of the chronicler, than
to allow much weight to an inference apparently so inconsistent with
the history of the age. That trade, to a limited extent, and such as
might be inferred from this general history, had taken place between
the countries, can easily be proved. The close connexion between the
Danish races in both, together with their commercial character, and
the abundant pastoral produce of this island, must have created an
intercourse of trade, restricted by many causes, to explain which would
lead us too far.

In 1103, Murkertach sustained a severe defeat from O'Lochlin,
from which he is said never to have entirely recovered. His subse-
quent conduct was probably such as to conciliate for him the favour of
the church, as different instances are mentioned by the Four Masters
of his being protected by the interposition of Celsus.

A severe illness, in 1114, probably consequent on the breaking of
the powers of life attendant on old age, called up the ambition of his
brother Dermod from its long torpor of repose. Murkertach, feeling
himself unequal to the disturbance and vicissitudes inseparable from
such contentions, soon found it expedient to consult the suggestions of
a wiser spirit, by resigning the sceptre, which he found it difficult to
hold, into the eager grasp of his brother, and entered into the monas-
tery of Lismore, where he died, 11 19-

O'Lochlin, who had trod the same path of secular ambition and
violence, was, by the instrumentality of reverse, conducted to the same
penitent end. The unspiritual career of both had been largely qualified
by munificence to the church, and in the utmost excess of their least
justifiable courses, they had wisely paved the way for reconciliation.
The ideas of religious restoration, and the forgiveness to be won by
acts of munificence or by the merits of self-infliction and spiritual
abasement, were something widely different from the earlier or more
genuine doctrines of the church. But however discordant with the
original institutions of its Divine Founder, Christianity had assumed a
tone and character in strict accordance with the period. The power
and political influence of a corrupt church were then undoubtedly in-
creased, by an understanding which transferred penitence from the
broken spirit and contrite heart, to the act which could be at will per-
formed by the purse and the scourge.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION.

It should, at the same time, be observed, that the corruptions
which had arisen through that long period of obscurity, emphatically
termed the darker ages, did not in the British isles at any time amount
to the deep central midnight of Italian superstition : around the remoter
borders of the papal empire, there played a faint stream of freer air;
there was indeed, in every church, resistance proportioned to the learn-
ing of the bishops, the civilization of the chiefs, and to their remote-
ness from the central machinery of that unhallowed empire of intrigue
and darkness.

The Danish churches in Ireland were united with their English
brethren, under the jurisdiction of the see of Canterbury. And al-
though the Irish bishops acknowledged no share in this connexion, there
was yet maintained a friendly communication between the most dis-
tinguished persons in either church, of which the remains are honour-
able to both. From the letters written by Lanfranc and his successor,
inferences unfavourable to the discipline and influence of the Irish
church at this time, appear to follow: in some measure, such inferences
are indirectly corroborated by the general indications of the moral
state of the people; but allowances are to be made for the misinter-
pretation of conduct arising from ignorance of national customs. The
state of the Irish was peculiar — the remains of an ancient order of
civilization were combined, somewhat fantastically, with the two deep
shades of real and apparent barbarism. The one, the result of the
progress of the surrounding world ; the other, the retrogression attend-
ant on the continued prevalence of a state unfavourable to the exist-
ence of civilization: an observation the more intelligible, as it has
still an application to the state of the lower classes in Ireland, which,
though in many important respects different, is yet in principle the
same.

The impulse given to civil discord by the disturbance of prescriptive
right, with the usual and necessary operation of all such interferences,
when not conducted by the most disinterested integrity and wisdom, and
according to the most rigid principles of constitutional right, propa-
gated itself on into increased disorders of the same nature. The law
of succession had fallen into a confusion, which demanded more than
human energy to rectify. The chaos of contesting claimants pro-
duced a long interregnum which lasted for fifteen years. In this
continued struggle, Tirdelvac, the king of Connaught, was to be
distinguished as first in vigour and activity. Between him and the
kings of Munster, who succeeded each other in this interval, an unm-
termitting succession of hostilities was carried on with various fortune.
An active and valiant leader in the field, Tirdelvac was no less alert
and much more successful in the game of diplomacy. And at length
after a long and doubtful struggle, in which his prospects had often
been reduced to the verge of ruin, he contrived to scatter dissension
between the Eugenian and Dalcassian tribes ; the details of this course
need not detain us here. The fiercest part of the struggle through
which he had to make his way by slaughter to a throne, seems to
have been the last ; when a brief succession of furious and bloody
collisions with Connor O'Brian, ended, through the mediation of the
clergy, in a peace, of which Tirdel vac's genius, or the favour of the

EARLY.

ecclesiastical arbitrators, secured for him the advantages. Between the
success of his arms, and the adroitness of his policy, he at length ob-
tained the monarchical supremacy in 1 1 36.

The spirited descendants of Brian, were little likely to acquiesce in
the departure of the supreme power from a house in which it seemed
to have been vested by usurpation, and secured by hereditary valour.
But the contagion of discord, had spread from house to house, and
from branch to branch. Weakened by dissensions which were fatal in
proportion to the combative alertness of the warlike Momonians, the
Munster kingdom began to exhibit signs of rapid dissolution.

In this eventful crisis, when the actors of a new and unthought of
order of things were entering on the stage of worldly events, we must
for the first time introduce the name of one, in whom virtues far beyond
the ordinary standard of Irish monarchs, were, through a long and
eventful life, to be neutralized by an adverse combination of events.
Roderic, the son of Tirdelvac, who was to witness the passing away
of the power and glory of the monarchy, was to give the last blow to
the falling throne of Munster. At the head of a chosen band he made
an irruption into Munster, and burned Kincora to the ground. The
insult roused from its recesses the entire spirit of the Munster tribes ;
a vigorous effort on either side brought together the full force of both,
into the fatal field of Moindnoe, where the army of Munster was de-
feated, and the king of Thomond, with the flower of the Dalcassian
peerage, fell upon a bloody field among seven thousand of their bravest
men.

Tirdelvac died about 1150, the exact year is not ascertained, after
an active and eventful life of various and extreme vicissitude, crowned
with a prosperous termination. And as, in human estimation, the
actions of public men are oftenest judged by the event, his historians
are not unwarranted in applying the epithet of great, to one whose
virtues appear to have been confined to those qualities which secured
a dear bought honour for his own person, at the cost of many a field
of slaughter, and the peace of nearly half a century of wide wasting
and demoralizing civil contention, which but too well prepared for the
darker crisis which was at hand. At the close of a career marked by
the continual breach of all that Christianity has pure and elevating
to humanity, he indicated his fears or wishes for futurity, by lavish
bequests to the church, of the wealth he could retain no longer in his
grasp.

He was succeeded by Murtagh O'Lochlin, whose succession was in-
terrupted by no rival. In truth this tranquil moment was simply the
exhaustion of a state of national collapse. The fiery atoms were
burnt out, in the dance of confusion which had signalized the age.
Roderic made some hesitating demonstrations, but they were discoun-
tenanced; and, on being brought to the trial of arms, subsided, with
some loss of life to the people and no material consequence to the
chiefs, into a calm acquiescence in the monarch's right. MacLochlin
did not long survive this decision, and Roderic quietly succeeded to
the monarchy.

We have now slightly, but sufficiently for our design, traced the
stream of Irish history from period to period. We have next to

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 91

make some general remarks upon the period upon which we are
now to enter. As the Danes occupied a prominent space in the annals
of the preceding centuries, so we are now to transfer our attention,
with an increasing interest, to the connexion with the sister isle of
England; and to keep in view the relations to which the fortune of
our island became indissolubly united with her for good and evil.

State of the Country. — At the commencement of the period upon
which we are now to enter, some centuries of continued oppres-
sion and disorder, had not only retarded all national advance, but
occasioned a considerable decline of prosperity and civilization. The
refinement and literature of the middle ages, confined to a particular
class, had never been, at any time, productive of that diffusive popular
influence, which is the growth of recent times: there was therefore
no rooted civilization adequate to withstand the repeated shocks of
invasion, feud, rapine, and oppression. It cannot therefore be a
subject of wonder if, at the coming of the English, the real state of
the people was that of nearly pure barbarism. They who, from poli-
tical motives, find it useful to their objects to deal in exaggerations
and popular flatteries, may attempt to conceal the facts or to dispute
them; but such they were, nor was it possible for them to be other-
wise. The contrary supposition is quite inconsistent with any regard
to possibility, or to the facts of history. Had such a state of things
continued without interruption, it may be with some probability sup-
posed, that it might have still led to a better : the Danes had become
Christian, and were fast melting into the national population. The
growth of cities, the advance of commerce, the spirit of freedom and
civil equalization which result from corporate institutions, might, by
a slow progress in the lapse of ages, have enabled this island to follow
in the wake of improvement. But these are yet but assumptions:
in the then existing state of the country, its laws, manners or civil
institutions, there was nothing for the loss of which the philosophic
historian will be likely to lament. And had the English conquest
been but complete, there was no other event so likely to have led the
country a?, rapidly forward in the advance of surrounding nations.

The circumstances which had the fatal effect of preventing this
desirable consummation are now to be brought before us in all the
detail of biography.

The sources of literary information for this purpose, continue as
yet but scanty, and afford little means of personal portraiture. The
individuals whom we shall have to speak of, must as hitherto be but
indistinctly seen through the medium of the events, of which they
were the actors and sufferers : our materials must be rather the events
than the men. It will be therefore unnecessary, to encumber our
page, with any prefatory sketch of a history, which it will thus be
our business to pursue in detail. A few general facts, and observa-
tions, will, nevertheless, prepare our reader, for the more distinct and
thorough appreciation of the scenes, persons, and events, which are to
pass before him in lengthened array.

Causes. — If we look for the causes of the English invasion, they
are too apparent to occupy research and space. A succession of
monarchs whose interest, ambition and pleasure, was war — the game

92 EARLY.

of kings and the sport of feudal chivalry — must always have looked
on a country, in the state of this island, as an object of enterprise.
Nor was there any thing, in point of reality, to shelter it from the
valour and activity which had for ages disturbed the repose of France,
and made its fields the theatre of British valour, but the low state of
civilization, which made this island less an object to attract attention,
excite cupidity, or awaken military ambition. The mere possession
of an uncultured territory, had not the value which would have made
it a full equivalent for the expense of invasion. And it was then evi-
dent that generations must elapse before the new conquest, if made,
would be brought into a state of subordination and civil order, such
as to make it an integral addition to the English throne. The ablest
and most clear-sighted monarchs who sat upon a throne, made ever
uneasy by the turbulence and insubordination of the English baronage,
were also likely to have seen in the progress of such a war, and the
occupation of such a territory, the means rather for the increase of
the baronial power than that of the throne. It was indeed only in a
reign of unusual vigour and military success, and in a state of pro-
found peace with the other surrounding countries, that it could have
been attempted in a manner conformable to the actual objects of royal
ambition. The conquest, to be effectual for any desirable purpose,
should be led by the monarch, and end in a thorough subjugation and
settlement of the country. Such was accordingly the design of Henry.
But such a project might have slept till other times, had not the
course and concurrence of circumstances effected, by a different
method and to a different issue, the object which the embarrassments
and prudence of Henry deferred.

Means of Resistance. — If, from the causes which may have led to
the events of the following period, we look to the means of aggression
and resistance, there is nothing worthy of remark that will not sug-
gest itself to the reader. While the constitution of England was such
as to offer many obstacles, nearly, if not wholly, insurmountable to
foreign conquest: the state of this island was such as to afford little
means of resistance against invasion. In England, the nature of
feudal military service was unfavourable to all enterprises which
demanded time and cost, as it was limited to a certain number of days,
and at the cost of the baron who led his retainers or feudal tenants
to the field. And though the warlike monarchs of England found
means, in an age of which the occupation was war, to keep large
armies in the field, it was only at a cost wholly beyond the limits of
national sufferance, and which seldom failed to involve their reigns in
embarrassment and strife, or by the exceeding popularity of the war
amongst the greater barons. There was, at the period of Henry II.,
no standing body of forces which cost upwards of six annual millions
for its support, nor had public credit, by which alone a permanent fund
of this nature could be secured, been thought of. It was thus that
the execution of the invasion, which was now to occur, was little
likely to be effected, unless by the ambition or the cupidity of indivi-
duals. Henry, already engaged in a war with France, and engrossed
by the stormy politics of his own dominions and the turbulence of his
rebellious sons, had enough to fill his mind and exhaust his resources.

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 93

But the means of resistance were slight and ineffective. Military
science had gained considerable progress in England, of which the
chivalry stood in the foremost rank of all that was renowned and
illustrious in Europe. The Irish were utterly ignorant of all military
knowledge beyond the rude ambuscades and tumultuary onsets and
nights, to which their bogs and forests gave the little advantage they
had against their disciplined adversaries.

In the course of time, they unquestionably learned from their con-
querors, and became dangerous antagonists in the field: but even
after a struggle, which lasted for generations, the native Irish were
even physically inferior to their invaders.

Question of Conquest. — The question as to the completeness of the
conquest of Ireland, has been debated with a zeal and ability, which
impresses the notion that it must have some importance. It has abso-
lutely none; and can only lead to any practical inference by some
combination of illusions. The right of mere forcible occupation,
only lasts so long as it can be maintained by force: but the rights
•which may arise out of it, as they pass down the course of ages,
assume the form of prescription, the main foundation of all right, and
cannot be touched without shaking the very name of right, and
endangering the foundation of both property and civil order. Ireland,
an integral member of Great Britain, is connected with the nation by
no link which is understood to imply conquest, but is depressed by
some disadvantages and inequalities which arise from her different
condition and state of social advance, or at least are so understood.
If then the question of conquest be discussed, it is only rationally
to be considered as a point of national pride, or as a means of exciting
popular enthusiasm ; and as such, it is nugatory still. If the conquest
of Ireland was not completed, it was from no conduct on the part of
her rulers, or valour on that of the people. But the reader may
judge from the events to be detailed hereafter.

A more serious question is, as to the injustice and impolicy of not
establishing the law of England as the law of the land, though often
and earnestly sought, by the Irish people. The answer appears to us
to be, that it would have been inexpedient, or indeed impossible,
until the time had arrived when the natives could be controlled and
governed, as well as protected, by the English laws. They sought
their protection, and had no design of submitting to them. We must
at the same time admit that, as in all human concerns, evil motives
are likely to have concurred with policy. The support of right
and the maintenance of civil order, do not necessarily imply spot-
less honour and justice in the governors. Such is man, a mixture of
good and evil, and such his best acts.

Manners and Civilization of this Period. — The history of England,
unlike our own, has long been rendered easy of general access. The
history of the Saxon Heptarchy, is more familiar to children, than
many portions of Irish history up to our own day to learned men. It
is quite unnecessary to dwell on topics with which every eye is fa-
miliar. But it will be conducive to clear notions of these times, now
about to be entered upon, if we can recall to the reader's memory some-
thing of the general state of knowledge and manners peculiar to them.

$4 EARLY.

There is, indeed, no function of history of more importance, or which
has been so inadequately fulfilled. The historian is generally satisfied
with such views of mankind as are presented in the progress of
events: in these, however, none but the broader and more abstract
characters of humanity are seen. Man appears, therefore, in the his-
torian's page, only in his gregarious capacity — masked in the common
conventions of the crowd. All that characterizes the person or the
home scene of domestic life, are sunk and clouded in the far off march
of generations And when, as it must sometimes occur, a glimpse of
the individual appears: the features and the acts, are mostly so un-
like all that we know and feel — so little to be resolved into the motives
of existing men — that the reader cannot accord the sympathy or even
the credence, which the interest of the page requires. The materials
for personal portraiture are slight. It was not, indeed, even possible
for the annalists of any period, to foresee the importance or interest
of the minuter details and colouring of social life to future times. The
Saxon chronicler, or the monk of Croyland, could little foresee a
period, when the flowing romance with which they made their histories
palatable to the ear of adventure-loving vacancy, would have infinitely
less interest than a clear and distinct sketch of the simplest and
plainest details of the daily life that was passing under their eyes.
The learning of the stately oratory and illuminated scroll, — the gothic
pomp of architecture, the magnificence of all in the costly decora-
tion, of which the remains are now but monumental, of generations
whose life and fashion has passed from memory, remain, nevertheless,
the sure testimonies of past refinement, intellectual cultivation, art,
luxury, and commerce. The application, however rude it was, of
ancient literature, had a charm for the aristocracy — the study of archi-
tecture, directed by a taste and a reach of magnificent conception, still
attractive to the cultivated eye — the castles and churches which covered
the land, are relics of a certain advance in the arts of life. To these
may be added the various remains of ancient furniture and household
utensils : and the various art exhibited in the arms and machinery of
war. Proofs still more distinct, are those records which remain of
the feast — the public solemnity, the tournament — of the food, dress
and money — of the value of land — the prices of commodities, and the
various fiscal regulations, that exhibit the growth of an orderly com-
munity, a civil government, and national institutions.

In the reign of Henry the Second, the state of civilization in Eng-
land, was in some important respects advanced to a high stage of
refinement and luxury: in others, to those who look from the high
ground of modern times, it must appear still upon the verge of barba-
rism. Many useful discoveries and inventions, which have changed
the state of society, were yet unknown — literature was unrestored from
the ruins of the ancient world — laws and constitutional improvements,
of which a form of civil liberty, perfect beyond the dreams of ancient
philosophy and poetry, was to be the result, remained yet for time and
providence to develop ; but considering the general scale of the wealth
and knowledge of the age, England had made rapid and well-directed
advances towards the still remote maturity of civilization. In many things
barbaric, because such was the general character, the English nation

HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION. 95

even then held the foremost station in the advance of that period, which
she has ever since retained. Not backward in literature, which was
hardly yet a feature of refinement, she was polished in manners, and
consummate in the military arts of the time. Chivalry, with its bar-
baresque ornaments of morals and manners, though inconsistent with
more sober and true moral wisdom, and with the constitutional laws
and customs of modern society, was but a portion of the ancient scaf-
folding1 of the growing structure, and among the various results which
developed some of the higher social functions and passed away : —

" Endured their destined period, and fulfilled
Their purposed end, then at the appointed huur
Fell into ruin."*

The surest indication of the advance of the social state, is the pro
gress of constitutional government, of which the improvement marks
the steps of growing national prosperity, as its corruption accompanies
the decline and falling of states. The establishment of regular courts
of judicature, in which the law is supposed to shut out the fallible
discretion of individual opinion ; however defective in construction,
or existing state of law, is yet an element of high civilization, and
bespeaks a far advance towards the perfection of civil order.

The stormy collisions between the barons and the throne, have been
adduced as supporting an opposite inference. But in this there is an
oversight of no small magnitude ; their occasions are overlooked and
their real value — a far advance towards civil order. Of the same
nature are the contests between the orders of the state, and their con-
sequences. For though sometimes adverted to, for the purpose of
strengthening the opposite inference, by the Irish historians: their
real value, is the universal sense they indicate of the importance of
just laws and constitutional rights. The constitution of England, as
best described by the most authoritative modern lawyers, may be dis-
cerned afar by the philosophical historian, reflected from the mind and
spirit of every order of the English nation, from the commencement
of the varied and long-continued series of actions and reactions, which
fill the whole period from the battle of Hastings to the Revolution in
1688. To estimate the value of the argument which can be drawn
from the disorders and varied collisions of this period, from which
Leland and others have inferred a rash comparison between England
and Ireland in the ensuing period, an important omission in their
premises is to be supplied. The causes of national disorder on either
side are to be minutely investigated. The collision of tumultuary
factions or of embattled ranks, tells nothing but the fatal condition
of human nature ; for it is the occasion and the cause. There is in the
main course of English history a constant struggle, of which the cause is
mostly political in its character. In the whole course of contemporary
Irish disorders, on the other hand, there is, traceably and simply, an
individual impulse, or the operation of some vindictive passion, or the
attraction of plunder. The wars between the contending chiefs — the
struggle between these and the Danes — the long and sanguinary strug-

* The Universe, p. 60.

96 EAKLY.

gle between the Geraldines and Butlers, and their still more disorderly
succession of aggressions and retaliations between these and the ancient
septs : have in them not a single feature of national or political collision.
There is no point of resemblance between them and the revolts of the
barons, or even the insurrections of Cade and Tyler — not to speak of
the wars of the Roses, or the fearful civil wars of later periods — but
the common consequence of national calamity.

If from these considerations we pass to the actual state of Irish
civilization at this period to which we are arrived, we find the fullest
and most authentic accounts confirming each other in the representa-
tion of a state of the most evident national decline. And while we
can discover abundant and satisfactory proofs of a high state of ancient
refinement, the evidences of more recent barbarism are equally beyond
the reach of sober denial. On this point, however, any thing we
could say, has found expression throughout the preceding division of
this volume. We shall now therefore content ourselves with a brief
observation upon the manners, knowledge, and arts of the Irish, at the
commencement and during the early centuries of the English period.

The popular state of manners continued to deepen in the features
of barbarism, to times within the scope of modern history. An un-
reflecting and undiscriminating spirit, strongly tinctured with pre-
judice and party feeling, has viewed them as neutralizing the claims
of Irish antiquity. But the more just view regards them as the
natural and necessary consequence of a long suspension of the laws
of social order. The operation of events which long continued to
render life, subsistence, and property precarious, of themselves consti-
tuted a necessary approximation to the state of savage life, and could
not continue long to operate, without rendering it a habit ; a simple and
self-evident principle, which involves the whole history of barbarism.
Cambrensis, after all deductions are made for nationality or prejudice,
gives in his history of the Norman conquest, the unequivocal portrait-
ure of a people if not wholly barbarian, yet unquestionably in the very
lowest state of civilization. The same impression is made by Spencer,
after the interval of several centuries. We cannot here protract this
introduction with a description which is transfused through his pages ;
but we shall hereafter avail ourselves of his most valuable authority
and graphic portraiture as we approach a later period.

There is no topic of this introduction that will not of necessity
recur, and it is to avoid swelling our volume with needless repetition,
that we have given but a cursory glance at these main topics from which
this long period is mainly to derive its character. We shall therefore
conclude, with a few remarks on the broader transitions which are to
stamp a period, for wrhich, from the scantiness of personal history, we
have been compelled to take a lengthened scope. It is indeed a curious
feature of our history which marks it from the beginning nearly to
the end, that it presents itself in no regular unbroken series of events,
but a remotely interrupted succession of fits of light and darkness, of
loud and flashing tempests, followed by long and lifeless calms. Be-
ginning with saints and heroes, of whom we have selected enough to
illustrate an age, we become soon involved in a period of invasion,
slaughter, and sacrilege, which slowly subsides into a state of national

PELAGIUS. 97

demoralization and anarchy, from which any change would seem to be
an advantage. From this we enter into a stirring period, of which
the history is more accessible and authentic, and the persons more
distinct. Of these, the fortunes present no small interest, as their
difficulties and dangers appear to be great, and their aim considerable :
their conduct too occasionally presents the attraction of chivalric
heroism, and constancy of spirit unflinching under the most formidable
trials. But their period is confined to a single generation ; the Fitz-
Stephens, De Courcys, and St. Laurences pass ; and there occurs a long
interval of which every historian laments the obscurity. The two cen-
turies and upwards of murders, massacres, and civil wars, between rival
barons and rival races, throughout the whole of which there is no virtue
to redeem, or splendour to give life to the torpid succession of the
Lacies and De Burgos, the Geraldines and Butlers, who follow each
other across the dark and sanguinary stage, till the power of Elizabeth's
reign closes the scene.

EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

PELAGIUS.

A. D. 415.

THE names of scholars or ecclesiastics which crowd our annals in the
earlier part of the fifth century, offer little that can claim historic in-
terest. Barbarous legends follow in the catalogue of uncouth names.
Among these a small selection, connected with the early annals of reli-
gion and the Christian church, may be offered as deserving of comme-
moration.

The birth-place of Pelagius cannot strictly be ascertained, and his
country has been the subject of much controversy ; on the perusal of
much of which, as stated by different writers, but chiefly by Usher,
we think the balance very doubtful. Some ancient writers have
called him a Briton, and referred his birth to Wales. Catelupus and
Caius assert that he had been a Cantabrigian. Ranulphus says,—
" Some relate that Pelagius was an abbot in that famous monastery of
Bangor," &c.; on which Usher notes, that there was another of the
same name in Hibernia, founded by St. Comgall ; and the ambiguity
thus arising has appeared to some recent critics to solve a part of the
difficulty. But, on looking on the date of Comgall's foundation, 555,

I. O Ir.

98 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

and that of the council of Carthage, 412, in which the errors of Pela-
gius were condemned, this explanation must manifestly be abandoned.
But the fact of Pelagius having been a monk of the Welsh monastery
which, according to Bede, flourished in the 6th century, and may have
existed earlier by a couple of centuries, decides nothing as to his
native country. There was much room for error in a point so likely
to be indistinctly known, at the time when it may have been an object
to ascertain it; and, as very slight indications are all that can be
mostly had on such questions, we incline to take the direct affirmation
or strong implication of those who were the most likely to know all
that could be known of him. England and Ireland were frequently
confused by the writers of the early ages, under the collective appel-
lation of the " British Isles ;" and the appellation of " Briton," hastily
adopted, would receive a stricter construction from stricter minds, or
in more informed periods; for this is an abundant source of historic
error, and this may sufficiently account for the frequent application of
the term " Brito" to his name. Garnier and Vossius are cited as
admitting or asserting that he was an Irishman; and the affirmation
of Vossius is remarkable as bearing the indication of a conviction,
founded on such proofs as could satisfy a judgment so critical as his.
" Pelagius professione monachus, natione non Gallus Brito, ut Danaeus
putavit, nee anglo-Britannus, ut scripsit Balaeus, sed Scotus." Lib. i.
cap. 3.* St Jerome, in the contumelious tone of controversy adopted
in his age, speaks of him thus : — " Neither let him be set down as
most stolid and unwieldy with Hibernian porridge."

To whatever district of the British islands he may have owed his
birth, the doubt alone is a sufficient reason why he should not be
omitted here. Amongst our many ancient names which fill this period,
no other has the same title to commemoration, for the wide-spread
fame and the mighty influence of his talents and errors.

The earliest date to which we can distinctly trace him, is the year
394; at which time Major, in his Treatise on the Acts of the Hiber-
nians, says, " The pest-bearing Pelagius, the Briton, sprung up in the
church, denying the grace of God."f This, however, unquestionably
ante-dates considerably the first notices we can discover of Pelagian-
ism. Leaving, however, these considerations, the acts of the life of
this eminent champion of an evil cause, are too clearly recorded in
the whole history of his age, to require that we should detain our
readers with the citation of authors.

Early in the 5th century, Pelagius dwelt in Rome, where the purity
and amiability of his life and manners were rendered illustrious by
the spirit, eloquence, and acuteness which brought them into exten-
sive notice. But his mind, unclouded by passions, was (as indeed often
occurs) inclined to form too low an estimate of their frightful power
over the human race, and to exaggerate vastly the power and influence
of virtue. Extending, probably, the insufficient experience of a cold
temperament or of an untried world, into a theory, his reason revolted

* Pelagius, by profession a monk, by country not a Welsh Briton, as Danseus
has supposed, nor an Anglo-Briton, as Bale has written, but a Hibernian.

" Anno 394, post partum virgineum, virus pestiferum Pelagius Brito in ecclesia
t, gratium Dei negans." — Usher. Primord. 212.

PELAGIFS. 99

against the doctrine of human depravity, as inferred from Scripture ;
and, assigning far too much to the strength of man, he, with the com-
mon error of sectarians, assigned too little force to the texts which
declare his corruption, curse, and the method of his justification; and
magnified, hy this removal of their limiting doctrines, those texts
which inculcate virtue and insist on good works. Totally losing sight
of those very distinct and intelligible conditions, on which the very
definition of good works depends (" faith working by love," the " fruits
of the Spirit"), and identifying them with the notions of heathen
morality, he involved himself and his hearers in quibbles founded on
verbal assumption. An act, to be sinful, must be voluntary; and to
be voluntary, there must be a power to resist it: and from this and
other such sophistical flippancies, it was easy to deduce the tenets
which, by his opponents as well as by the disciples of his school, were
construed into a direct opposition to Divine grace. Pelagius himself,
however, seems to have been anxious, by specious provisions, to guard
against these consequences. He carefully distinguishes between the
fact, or actual conduct of men, and the abstract possibility of resisting
sinful inclinations. " De posse aut non posse, non de esse aut non
esse, contendimus," is one of the many forms in which he states his
own conception of the question ; after which he admits that no man is
free from actual sin. Supposing his antagonist to charge him with
the denial of Divine grace, he replies, " I do not deny it ; who makes
the admission that the eifect must be produced, admits that there is a
cause by which it must be produced ; but you, who deny the possibility
of the effect, necessarily imply the denial of any cause by which it can
be produced."* Such is a specimen of the sophistry to which Pela-
gius and, after him, many resorted to defend tenets so founded on
misapprehension, that it is difficult for the reader to believe that they
were ever sincerely maintained. The truth appears to be — and it
seems to be a truth applicable to the sectarians of every age, who have
departed from the full recognition of every portion of the scheme of
redemption, as comprised in the broadly comprehensive enunciations
of Scripture — that there has been a constant necessity felt to state
their opinions, so as to avoid the charge of the objectionable conse-
quences of these opinions. But this precaution has never prevented
either their disciples or their opponents from setting aside this artifi-
cial entrenchment of equivocal words, and adopting the consequences
to the fullest extent of their zeal. It may be fit, before leaving this
topic, to notice that the whole reasoning of Pelagius, through all his
writings, seems to be founded on the equivocal sense of the word
" sin," by which it is used to signify the commission of an act, or a
certain state of heart unacceptable to God, and productive of sins of
omission and commission. A thousand motives, little worthy of even
human approbation, may deter a human being from guilt: one
motive alone can be acceptable to God; and the true question to be
answered must concern this motive. Hence, indeed, the reason and
fitness of the 1 3th article of the church of England.f

* Usher, p. 236.

f It is only after a full acquaintance with the opposite errors and perplexing
subtleties of sectarian disputants on either side of truth, that the full merit of these

100 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

Whatever may have been the fear or caution of Pelagius, his opin-
ions were quickly reverberated, in their full and undisguised form, by
his followers ; and he was himself led to follow them up into various
consequences which set all disguise or reserve at nought. As we
scarcely think it allowable to convert a simple memoir into a theolo-
gical dissertation, we shall here present a brief abstract of those here-
sies which, we must observe, are the substantial events in the life of
Pelagius.

He maintained that the sin of Adam was attended with no conse-
quences to his posterity; that every man was free to obey or disobey
the commands of God, as Adam was before his fall; that good works
were meritorious in the sight of God; and that man, by the use of
his natural faculties, could act conformably with Divine law, without
any assistance from Divine grace. The opposite doctrines he taught
were pernicious, as being adapted to oppose the cultivation of active
virtue. Other tenets, respecting baptism, are mentioned; but this
leading error may suffice.

So great was the respect for the talent and private character of
Pelagius, that the first impression caused by the publication of his
opinions seems to have been mixed with tenderness; and it is
a strong indication of the impression he had made, that many ap-
plied to him the text of Revelation, " and there fell a great star from
heaven."

He was opposed by the eloquence and reasoning of Augustin, and
loudly assailed by his opponents with all the varied resources of con-
troversy, whether employed in the support of truth or defence of
error. Reasonings were mingled with invectives, and these enforced
by sterner means.

These collisions of human bitterness were, for a moment, silenced
by terrors which shook the city to its foundation, and stilled all other
passions in the hearts of an empire. The effect of the capture by the
Goths of the ancient metropolis of the West, is described in an epistle
from Pelagius himself, written to the Christian lady Demetrias : " It
has occurred, as you have heard, when Rome, the mistress of the
world, struck with gloomy apprehensions, trembled at the harsh
clamour and shrill reverberation of the Gothic trumpets. Where,
then, was the order of nobility? where the jealous distinctions of
rank ? All was confusedly mingled by a levelling terror. There was
wailing in every house, and one consternation seized on every soul.
The slave and noble were as one : the image of death was equally ter-
rible to all ; unless, indeed, that they felt more painful fears to whom
life had been the sweetest. If we are thus terror-struck by mortal
foes, and by a human hand, what shall be our feeling when the trum-
pet shall begin to thunder forth its fearful call from the heavens ; and
the universe shall rebellow to the voice of the archangel — more loud
than any trumpet ; and when we shall behold, not the arms of human

thoroughly judicious expositions of Christian doctrine can be known. To appre-
ciate the skill with which they preserve the whole of seemingly-opposed truths, and
avoid the opposite errors which partial views of Scripture have occasioned, seems to
have demanded a degree of caution, moderation, and a comprehensiveness of intel-
lect not very often to be found in the same degree.

PELAGIUS. 101

fabric waved above our heads, but the hosts of the heavenly powers
assembled together?"

From these terrors which he has thus described, Pelagius, with his
disciple and fellow-countryman Celestius, seems to have withdrawn
into Africa, as he was present at a conference held with the Donatists,
ten months after, in Carthage. This appears from the testimony of
Augustin, who, first having mentioned the previous arrival of Pela-
gius in his see (of Hippo), and his speedy retreat, proceeds to say,
that he recollected having once or twice remarked his face in Car-
thage, " when I was pressingly occupied about the conference which
we were about to have with the Donatists ; but he hastened away to
the countries beyond sea." Bale asserts, that he at this period visited
Egypt, Syria, and other Eastern countries ; and Usher cites a rather
ironical epistle, from a Greek writer to Pelagius himself, which seems
to cast a gleam upon his character, while it demands the usual allow-
ance due to all satirical representation. " ' Grey hairs are shed over
Ephraim, and he knoweth it not,' — without doubt acting the youth in
visions of fictions. In the same way a crowd of years have brought
hoariness upon you; and nevertheless you retain a stubborn and un-
bending spirit — travelling from one monastery to another, and making
trial of the tables of all. Wherefore, if the nicety of meats and the
luxury of sauces is so much your object, go rather and assail with
your flatteries those who bear the magisterial office, and walk the
streets of cities; for hermits cannot entertain you according to your
desire."*

From this, in some measure, appears the general nature of the
efforts made by Pelagius, to obtain proselytes among the vast multi-
tude of the monastic communities which swarmed from the bosom of
the church, falling fast into heresy and prolific superstition. It is,
indeed, well worth noticing, and applicable to the heresies of all times,
the mixture of dishonest artifice which takes a place even in the most
daring efforts which obtain popular success. Pelagius united, in a
singular degree, consummate craft and audacious boldness. Involving
the most extreme errors in doubtful assertions, which, to the populace,
might seem to bear the most orthodox interpretation, he reserved
the comment for private exposition ; and, while he dexterously avoided
committing himself in public beyond what the public sense might
receive, he sounded his way in every private channel, took advantage
of ignorance, pliability, and intellectual unsoundness, to gain prose-
lytes to opinions which he avoided pushing to their consequences.
This he left for the rasher zeal of disciples, and the under-working of
opinions of which the seed is scattered. In allusion to this part of
his character, the following extract will be understood: — " Speak out
what you believe : declare in public that which you secretly teach to
your disciples ; the privacy of cells hear one view of your doctrines,

the pulpits another." " For that alone is heresy which shrinks

from a public explanation, which it doth fear to offer in public. The
silence of the masters advances the zeal of the disciples; what they
hear in the secret chamber they proclaim on the house-top. If their

* Usher, Primord. 216.

102 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

teaching shall please, it goes to the honour of the master; if not, to
the shame of the disciple. And so your heresy has increased, and you
have deceived many."* This is from a controversial correspondence
into which he had entered with Jerome, during his residence in Jeru-
salem, where, after leaving Africa, he took up his abode. This posi-
tion was, then, the most favourable for his purpose that could be chosen.
Free from the disadvantages to be encountered in any of the great
metropolitan centres of ecclesiastical power, it was the universal centre
of pilgrimage from every Christian shore into which the devotion,
zeal, and superstition of the Christian world was pouring and return-
ing, and from whence he might hope to spread his opinions widest
and with least opposition; while, in the meantime, Rhodes in the east,
and Sicily in the west, were the district schools for the furtherance of
this heresy in their respective churches.

The prudent reserve which thus served as the purpose of a covered
way for the designs of Pelagius, and also to ward oft' from his person,
the more direct, and therefore popular, attacks of his adversaries, was
quite free from fear, or any natural infirmity of nerve or purpose.
With the frontless confidence, so familiar to all who understand the
arts of popular deception, Pelagius gave himself little trouble, as to
the interpretations of Augustin or Jerome. He cared not for the
opinion of the learned, the wise, and the powerful in reason or authority ;
if he might, by any means, turn aside such exposures as might defeat
his purpose. Careless of opinion — indifferent to abuse — holding no
communion of feeling with other minds of the same order — specious —
insinuating — watchful : he was also firm and confident, within the limits
of prudence. In the power of his intellectual strength, he was confi-
dent; and this confidence was preserved by the difficulty of overthrow-
ing one, whose force it was to select the field of combat for his oppon-
ent, and to dwell in perpetual evasion. This character is partly
shadowed out by one of his antagonists : " Goliah stands most enormous
in pride, and tumid with carnal strength, imagining himself singly equal
to all undertakings — clothed head, hands, and whole body, in the folds
of manifold array ; having his armour-bearer behind him, who, though
he does not fight, yet supplies the whole expenditure of arms."f The
armour-bearer was Celestius, a fellow-countryman, and a disciple, who
soon began to be considered more formidable than his master.

In Jerusalem, Pelagius was supported by the patronage of the bishop
of that church, whose own opinions tinged with the views of Origen,
leaned to the same way of thinking. In consequence of this protection,
Pelagius expressed his opinions more freely. A synod was held about
this period (415, A. D.), in Jerusalem, for the purpose of examining
into his opinions ; it was conducted by Orosius, a Spanish monk deputed
by Augustin, in whose writings there is an account of the proceed-
ings. But so dexterously did Pelagius play the game of verbal
equivocation, and so deficient was the controversy of the 6th century,
in that soundness of reason, which scatters aside the thin artifice of
verbal equivocation and nugatory distinction, that Pelagius was
acquitted from imputation here, and soon after in the council of Dios-
polis. But in 4 1 6 he was condemned in Carthage.

' St Jerome; Usher, Primord. 228. f Orosius; Usher, Primortl. 234.

PELAGIUS. 103

This controversy was carried on by epistles, preachings, theses, and
synods, with various success, and with far more of subtlety and elo-
quence, than clearness of comprehension, or justness of discrimination,
on either side ; and more by the opposition of extreme opinions, than
by the sound and full exposition of the truth. It was thus one of those
great stages of opinion, from which have emanated the manifold divi-
sions of the cloud of heresies which fill the atmosphere of theology, and
carry on a restless contention in error, on every side of the truth, from
the beginning even to the end. From the council of Carthage,
Pelagius appealed to the see of Rome. It was hoped that the decision
of the Metropolitan would carry with it the weight of court influence,
and draw the authority of the emperor with that of the bishop — and,
in this hope, the more orthodox bishops must have cheerfully acquiesced
in a step so promising in its seeming circumstances. Zosimus, who
had recently been raised to the metropolitan see, was, however, imposed
upon by a confession, artfully worded by Celestius, so as to carry the
sense of heresy under the sound and surface of orthodoxy. His simpli-
city was also assailed by the letters of Pelagius ; and he declared in their
favour. The declaration, however, quickly drew upon his head a
storm of indignation, invective, and reproach, from the sounder bishops
of Africa, with Augustin at their head, to which he quickly felt the
necessity, or the justice, of giving way. From approbation, Zosimus
changed his tone to the utmost severity of censure and condemnation ;
and in consequence, in this fatal year for the Pelagian heresy, an im-
perial decree, in the names of the emperors Theodosius and Honorius
was issued, condemning Pelagius and Celestius, with all who should
thenceforth maintain their opinions, to exile.

The heresy thus supprest, nevertheless propagated a vivacious im-
pulse throughout the church. The opinions remained under other
names, and in other combinations ; and Pelagius and Augustin has never
since wanted their representatives in the lists of controversy.

The history of the Church has fully shown that the rise and spread
of heresies was not dependent upon the speculative error of any indivi-
dual. Every shade of possible misconstruction has found its authority
and its sect ; — numbering the moral and intellectual eccentricities of the
mind, from Pyrrhonism that believes nothing, to Romish faith that be-
lieves too much; from the deist to the modern tractarian ; from the
modern neologist who deifies nature, to his brother of the same pro-
found school who will have no divinity.

Pelagius, after this, was little engaged in any public ecclesiastical
controversy, as he ceases to be personally noticed in the writings of the
age. He probably had begun to feel, for some time, the tranquillizing
symptoms of old age, and given place to the increasing ascendancy of
the vigour and abilities of his pupil Celestius; who, from this, is found
in the foremost place, and maintaining the opinions of his master, with
more boldness and equal dexterity.

Of Celestius there is little to be said that is strictly in the nature of
personal history; and his theological career would be but a repetition,
with distinctions of time and place, little interesting, of our account of
Pelagius. That he was a native of Ireland is undisputed. So great
was the general impression produced by his writings and eloquence,

104 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

that the fame of his more cautious master was, to some extent, trans-
ferred to him, and he was, by many, reputed to be the real author of
most of the writings which bore the name of Pelagius.

In concert with Julian, another disciple of the same master, Celestius
still endeavoured to continue the propagation of the same tenets, with
others equally objectionable, until, at the instance of Celestine, bishop
of Rome, they were expelled from Gaul.

ST. PATRICK.

BORN A. D. 387. DIED A. D. 465.*

IF we are obliged to admit the uncertainty of the traditions and
records of a time so remote as the 5th century, in a nation so little
noted in history as Ireland is supposed to have been ; if we must also
confess that superstition and imposture have also additionally obscured
these accounts, so as to render it, at first sight, doubtful what is to be
allowed or rejected; it must, at the same time, be affirmed, that
scepticism has been equally licentious in its doubts and rejections.
The sceptical antiquary has but too much resembled the story-teller
of the middle ages, in the easiness, indolence, and absurd confidence of
his inferences from the slightest grounds, and oversights as to the most
important probabilities.

The various lives of St Patrick which were written from the 10th
century, have so overlaid the accounts of his contemporaries with
monstrous legends, that the air of absurdity thus imparted to the
whole of these narrations, has had but the natural effect of such a con-
taminating infusion of extravagance, in exciting the scorn and incred-
ulity of an age so sceptical as the present. To enter seriously on the
task of delivering the plain narrative of the life, thus beset between
fiction and unwarrantable doubt, seems to be a task of some delicacy —
and demanding some indifference to the preconceptions of opinion.

But the main line to be observed in discriminating the true from the
fictitious, is, on inspection of the historians, their periods, and the scope
of their opinions and designs : no very hard task. The writers of the
middle ages may, in reference to our subject, be divided into two main
classes : those who recorded the most extravagant fables, because they
believed in them; and those who invented legends for their purposes.
Between these, all ancient history and biography has been defiled with
similar errors and impostures ; and the argument in favour of incred-
ulity only derives weight from the consideration, where the questioned
fact stands solely on such testimony.

But omitting the consideration, that even these writers must be
supposed to have some real foundation in fact, to succeed in impos-
ture, or to be received by the credulous ; in the case of St Patrick,
it is to be observed that there is another very distinct class of testi-
monies. The alleged writers of his own period, are sufficiently proved

* After a careful consideration of the opinions of various writers, we have fol-
lowed Dr Lanigan in selecting the above dates.

ST. PATRICK. 105

genuine, by the omission of all those fictions, which the credulity, or
the craft, of a far later period could not have omitted, and dared not
have rejected. This test of discrimination is confirmed by the obvious
and uniform facts of an extensive analogy. The comparison of any
records of the same individual, in the early or middle ages of our era,
will uniformly exhibit similar indications of the same respective classes
of authority. " It is observable," says Ware, " that (as the purest
streams flow always nearest to the fountain), so, among the many
writers of the life of this prelate, those who lived nearest to his time
have had the greatest regard to truth, and have been most sparing in
recounting his miracles. Thus Fiech, bishop of Sletty, and contem-
porary with our saint, comprehended the most material events of his
life, in an Irish hymn of 34 stanzas." " But in process of time,"
observes the same judicious writer, " as the writers of his life increased,
so the miracles were multiplied (especially in the dark ages), until at
last they extended all bounds of credibility. Thus Probus, a writer of
the 10th age, outdid all who went before him; but he himself was
outdone by Jocelyne, a monk of Fumes, who wrote in the 1 '2th century."*
" At length came Philip O'Sullivan, who made Jocelyne his ground-
work, yet far exceeds even Jocelyne."

These absurdities, when justly referred to their origin, have no
weight in reference to the question of St Patrick's having existed or
not; whatever they may have on the credulity or incredulity of the
numerous classes who are ever more ready to believe too little or too
much, than to hit the fine drawn line between truth and error. The
authenticity of ancient accounts, or the genuineness of ancient writings,
when questioned, are hard to prove ; the full proof of standing institu-
tions— immediate publication — contemporary citation and controversy,
&c., exists in reference to the Bible only among writings of so early
a period. But the objections must be themselves of cogent weight,
which can overthrow a single ancient statement, not in itself in any
way inconsistent with probability.

But however such questions may be decided, when all the doctors
shall cease to disagree, it is not for us, " tantas componere lites," to
settle these high and grave doubts of the inner conclave of antiquarian
learning. As long as there is an Irishman who swears by St Patrick,
he has a claim to find his name and life in the biography of the age of
saints. In our sketch of this we must, from the necessity of the thing,
abide by the best election we can make amongst conflicting statements
on many points.

Among the different opinions as to his birth-place, the most received
is that which makes him a native of Scotland. In a writing attributed
to himself, he describes the place as " in vico Sanaven, Tabernice"
which is further explained by Joceline, as the site of a Roman en-
campment, near the town of Empthor and the shore of the Irish

* This volume has been made, in some degree, more familiar, by the very singular
Inadvertence of its having been published as one of a series of Irish histories, so
u>eful in its plan that its interruption is to be regretted. It comprised Spencer,
Campion, Hanmer, and the Pacata Hibernia : but a volume more widely extravagant
than Gulliver, without the attractions of that witty satire, seems to have arrested
Uie sale of the work, for it was at once discontinued by the publishers.

106

EAELY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

sea. Usher fixes the modern geography of the spot at a place called
Kilpatrick, between Glasgow and Dunbritton, at the extremity of the
Roman wall. Fiech, one of the earliest of our writers, also names the
place by a name (Alcluith) which the consent of many ancient autho-
rities fixes as an old name for Dunbritton.

The reasons, however, upon which this statement is opposed are too
strong to be omitted, although we cannot here enter upon their merits
consistently with any regard to our limits. All the circumstances of
the early narrative of St Patrick's life are highly inconsistent with
this statement; and all precisely agree with the supposition that he
was a native of Gaul. His family were residing in Gaul — he was
there taken prisoner in his youth — there the earlier events of his life
took place — his education and his consecration; and considering the
distances of the places, with the obstacles attendant upon all travel-
ling in these early times, it must be allowed that the former notion
involves nearly insurmountable difficulties. There was in Armoric
Gaul a district called Britain at the period, and of this very district
his mother was a native and his family inhabitants. The name
Nemthor cannot, on any authority, be ascertained to have been ap-
plied to any locality in North Britain, but actually signifies "holy
Tours," and of Tours his uncle was the bishop, according to the state-
ments on every side. We must leave the decision to the reader.
The whole question is stated and discussed at great length by Dr
Lanigan.

His father was a deacon, named Calphurnius, the son of Potitus a
priest. And the fact is worthy of notice, as proving the antiquity of
the ancient documents from which it is drawn. In the times when
Probus, Joceline, and O'Sullivan wrote, such a story was unlikely to
be forged ; and the simple Joceline thinks it necessary to assume, that
these ancient ecclesiastics took their orders after their children were
born: there cannot be a better proof of Joceline's having had stubborn
facts to deal with, or of the extent of monastic ignorance in his day.
But there cannot be a much clearer confirmation of the antiquity, at
least, of the Confession of St Patrick.

The data on which we have fixed his birth are briefly these. His
consecration is placed by all the best authorities in 432. Upon this
occasion, he tells us himself that a friend of his reproached him with
a sin committed thirty years before, when he was yet scarcely fifteen
years old. Adding, therefore, thirty to fifteen, and we make him forty-
five in the year 432, which gives for his birth 387. This is confirmed
by other particulars, among which it may be enough to observe the
precision with which it synchronizes with the period of Niall's expe-
dition into Gaul, at which time he was made captive at the age of
sixteen: this must have occurred, therefore, about 403, and 387 + 16
= 403.

While yet a youth of sixteen, he was carried away by Niall of the
Nine Hostages, and sold into captivity in Ireland. Different versions
of the same incident are given by various writers, but they all agree
in the event; Patrick was captured by pirates, and sold to a chief
named Milcho, who dwelt in the county Antrim, near the mountain of
Slieve Mis.

ST. PATRICK. 107

This mountain was the scene of the next six years of his youth.
Employed by his master to tend his flocks, his life was here spent in
the lone and sequestered meditation for which the place and occupation
were favourable, and to which he was by nature inclined. Of this period
his Confession speaks in these terms : " My constant business was
to feed the flocks ; I was frequent in prayer ; the love and fear of God,
more and more inflamed my heart; my faith was enlarged, and my
spirit augmented ; so that I said a hundred prayers by day, and almost
as many by night.* I arose before day to my prayers, in the snow, in
the frost, in the rain, and yet I received no damage ; nor was I affect-
ed with slothfulness ; for then the Spirit of God was warm within me" !
To the Christian reader, or to the informed reader who is in the least
acquainted with the human heart, this simple and beautifully just and
harmonious view of the growth and expansion of Christian piety, accord-
ing to its scriptural description in the language of its Founder and His
first apostles, will at once convey an evidence of genuineness, far
beyond any elaborate reasoning from ancient records. It neither
indicates the mind of a superstitious era of the church, nor of the
legendary fabrications in which it dealt. In this period of captivity,
he acquired a perfect mastery of the Irish language.

At the end of six years he obtained his freedom. The monkish
writers refer this incident of his life to a miraculous interposition —
told with various circumstances, by different writers, according to the
liveliness of their fancy, and the several degrees of daring or credulity
with which they wrote. But the saint's own account is simply natural :
" he was warned in a dream to return home, and arose and betook him-
self to flight, and left the man with whom he had been six years."f
" There seems to have been a law in Ireland," says Ware, " agreeable
to the institution of Moses, that a servant should be released the seventh
year." All that is known of the ancient traditions of Ireland, make
this very likely ; and if we assume such a law, it is most probable that
the youth, as the time of his return drew nigh, entertained thoughts
which would naturally have suggested such a dream; which an en-
thusiastic mind would ascribe to providence. Such, whether just or
not, was the inference of St Patrick; who accordingly made his way
to the sea side, and with some difficulty obtained a passage. As he
mentions that the difficulty arose from his want of money, it may be
right to mention, that such a representation was totally inconsistent with
imposture ; as it would have been too egregious an error, to write an
account directly contradicting the marvellous inventions of his monkish
historians. His escape was not immediately conducive to the anxious
object he had at heart, which was to revisit his parents and brethren.
After a month's laborious travelling, he was again seized, and again
escaped after two months' captivity. Three months of hope deferred,
and protracted toil, elapsed before he reached the home of his family,
by whom he was joyfully welcomed, as one who had been lost and was
restored.

His parents wished to detain him. But a dream, which the candid

* This statement is simply the idiomatic expression foi numerous prayers,
f Confession, quoted hy Ware.

108 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

sceptic will attribute to the wonted course of his thoughts, and the
Christian may, without superstition, admit to be not beyond the possible
scope of providential intimation, had the effect of inspiring a different
course. " He thought he saw a man coming to him, as if from Ire-
land, whose name was Victoricius, with a great number of letters.
That he gave him one to read, in the beginning of which were con-
tained these words, ' Vox Hiberionacum.' While he was reading this
letter, he thought, the same moment, that he heard the voice of the
inhabitants who lived hard-by the wood of Foclut, near the Western
sea, crying to him with one voice, ' we entreat thee, holy youth, to
come and walk among us.' " To invent a dream well, does not require
a knowledge of metaphysical theory ; but the acute reader, who has
studied the subject, will perceive in this, how happily the law of sug-
gestion, commonly observable in dreams, is preserved. From this
dream, Ware conjectures, that legendary stories of his intercourse with
the angel Victor have been constructed.

The saint, from this moment, resolved to attempt the instruction of
the Irish. To prepare himself for this arduous labour, he determined
to travel in foreign countries, for the acquisition of the requisite ex-
perience and knowledge.

It was at the mature age of thirty, that he is said to have placed
himself under the spiritual tutelage of Germanus, bishop of Auxerre,
in Burgoyne — an ecclesiastic, eminent both as a theologian and
civilian, characters which comprise the learning of the age. From
this period his course is for many years indistinct — another probable
character of authenticity: the interval is supposed, with good reason,
to have been passed in the studious shades of cloistered study and
meditation. He is said to have been ordained by the bishop, who gave
him the name of Magonius, after which he dwelt, for some years, in a
community of monks inhabiting a small island in the Mediterranean
sea, near the French coast.

The accounts of the events of his life, during the interval which
elapsed before his return to Ireland, are unsatisfactory, and not im-
portant enough for an effort to clear away the perplexities of Colgan,
or the contradictions of his biographers. We shall therefore pass to
the period of his mission without unnecessary delay.

According to the best authorities, the state of Christianity in Ireland
was unprosperous ; it had not fully taken root among the population,
or the chiefs and kings ; and there is some reason to believe that it was
also tainted with heresy. The holy men, whose names are beyond rational
conjecture, had spent their honourable and pious life in a fruitless struggle
against the ferocious hostility of the Pagan priests — which encompassed
them with obstacles and dangers, against which their best efforts had
little weight. Palladius, the immediate precursor of St Patrick, had
retired, in terror and despair, from the strife. Whatever had been the
success of the early preaching of Christianity in its apostolic purity,
it was little to be hoped that a religion, tainted perhaps by the gross
and unspiritual errors of Pelagianism, could long continue to sustain the
increasing hostility of a people, by nature fierce, in the defence of their
faith or superstition. Palladius had, in the year 431, been sent by
Coli st in, bishop of Rome, on a mission to the Irish churches, " to the

ST. PATRICK. 109

Scots believing in Christ."* Ignorant of the Irish language, ana devoid
of the requisite courage, he left the island in the same year, and died in
Scotland.

It is generally supposed that Patrick was, in consequence of these last
incidents, ordained a bishop by Celestin. The difficulty seems to be
in the short time which elapsed between the 15th December, 431, on
which Palladius died, and the 6th of April, 432, the period of Celes-
tin's death. This difficulty may be summarily disposed of, by at once
abandoning the ill-supported statement that St Patrick ever visited
Rome. It stands upon a heap of contradictions, interpolations, and
false assumptions. The history of the notion is easily conjectured.
A period of the life of St Patrick happens to be untraced by contem-
porary record : biographers in far later times fabricating history, as
we know it to have been fabricated in the middle ages and by monkish
writers, regularly filled up the chasms of their slender authority, ac-
cording to their purpose, or their notions of probability. One or two
writers in that inaccurate period, having made this unauthorized state-
ment, either because they thought such must have been the fact, or
that it should be so stated, were followed implicitly by a long train of
ecclesiastical writers, each of whom shaped the fact according to the
difficulties which obstructed his narration. These fabrications accumu-
lating into authority, it became necessary for men like Usher and
Dr Lanigan to discuss this vast array of conflicting testimonies, on
the assumption that the main fact was in some way true. In the
course, however, of their investigations, together with those of other
learned men who disagree with each other, the whole details of all
the statements are cut to pieces among them, and the fact which has
been transmitted from scholiast to scholiast, and from doctor to doctor,
has perceptibly not an atom of ground left to stand on. The critics
and the commentators have devoured each other, and realized, after a
manner of their own, the renowned legend of the Kilkenny cats. It
only remains to point out the fact, that the statement has no ground
to support it, and no documentary evidence to rest on. The fact that
there existed and exists a motive for maintaining such a statement is
obvious, and that various misstatements have been made for the pur-
pose, plainly proved. Of these a curious one occurs in Probus, whose
text has manifestly been tampered with for the very purpose. The
interpolator, with the improvidence often accompanying craft like its
evil genius, in the anxiety to effect his purpose, so confused the order
of the narration, as to make it seem as if the chapters of the book had
been by mistake inverted. After being placed at Rome, St Patrick
is immediately after made to sail towards Gaul, across the British sea.

The fact most consistent with the best authorized outline of this
saint's life, is this, that having, in 429, accompanied Germanus and
Lupus on their mission into Britain, he saw reason to think it time
to carry into effect his wish to preach to the Irish ; and having, with
this view, first crossed the British channel to Gaul, he was there
qualified by episcopal orders. This was probably in his forty-fifth
year. He was, it is said, accompanied by other pious men; among

* Prosper, Chron.

110 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

these the names of Auxilius and Iserninus are mentioned, and twenty
more are said to have accompanied them. This little band of Christian
soldiers he increased on the way. He is said to have landed in a
place called Jubber-Dea, now the port of Wicklow.

His first efforts were blessed with an important success in the con-
version of Sinell, the grandson of Finchad, and eighth in lineal descent
from Cormac, king of Leinster. He met with considerable opposition
from Nathi the chief, whose opposition had terrified Palladius. He
next visited a place called Rath Jubber, near the mouth of the river
Bray. Betaking himself to his ship, he reached an island on the coast
of the county Dublin, since called Inis Phadruig, where he and his
companions rested, after the fatigues and perils they had sustained.

From Inis Phadruig, he sailed northward, until he reached the bay
of Dundrum, in the county Down, where he landed. Here he met
with an adventure, which had some influence on his after-course of
life. As he was proceeding with his party from the shore, he was
met by a herdsman, who imagining them to be pirates, took to flight,
and alarmed his master Dicho. This chief, calling together his men,
sallied forth for the protection of his property; his more intelligent
eye, however, drew a more correct inference from the venerable ap-
pearance of Patrick. The sanctity of aspect, and the dignified de-
portment which are said to have suggested to the bishop by whom
he was ordained, the new name of Patricius, had their full effect in
the first impression which his appearance had on Dicho. The saint
and his company were invited, and hospitably entertained by the chief.
Following up so favourable an occasion, he easily made converts of
his host and his entire household. The barn in which he celebrated
divine service obtained, from the gratitude of his convert, the name
of Sabhul Phadruig, or Patrick's barn.

The next adventure of St Patrick, was far more momentous in its
effects. It might be briefly stated as the conversion of the monarch
Laogaire, his court and people ; a statement which would include, at
least, all that can with certainty be told of the event. But some of
the legendary accounts of the adventures of St Patrick, have at least the
merit of romance ; nor can we lose the occasion to offer a few speci-
mens of the legends of the twelfth century. The following is extracted
from Joceline : —

After relating a variety of marvellous adventures, chiefly remark-
able for the curious contrast they offer to the miracles of the New Tes-
tament, both in style and design, Joceline, who tells each of these
wonders with the gravest, and, we believe, sincerest simplicity, in a
separate chapter, proceeds — " And the saint, on that most holy sabbath
preceding the vigil of the Passover, turned aside to a fit and pleasant
place called Feartfeihin, and there, according to the custom of the holy
church, lighted the lamps at the blessed fire. And it happened on
that night, that the idolaters solemnized a certain high festival called
Hack, which they, walking in darkness, were wont to consecrate to
the Prince of Darkness. And it was their custom that every fire
should be extinguished, nor, throughout the province, should be re-
lighted, until it was first beheld in the royal palace. But when the
monarch Leogaire, being then with his attendants at Temoria, then

ST. PATRICK. Ill

the chief court of the kingdom of all Ireland, beheld the tire that was
lighted by St Patrick, he marvelled, and was enraged, and inquired
who had thus presumed? And a certain magician, when he looked
on the fire, as if prophesying, said unto the king, ' Unless yonder Jire be
this night extinguished, he who lighted it will, together with his followers,
reign over the whole island.' Which being heard, the monarch,
gathering together a multitude with him, hastened, in the violence of
his wrath, to extinguish the fire. And he brought with him thrice
nine chariots, for the delusion of his foolishness had seduced his heart,
and persuaded him, that, with that number, he would obtain to himself
a complete triumph ; and he turned the face of his men and his cattle
toward the left hand of saint Patrick, even as the magicians had direct-
ed, trusting that his purpose could not be prevented. But the saint,
beholding the multitude of chariots, began this verse : ' Some in
chariots, and some on horses, but we will invoke the name of the Lord!
And when the king approached the place, the magicians advised him not
to go near saint Patrick, lest he should seem to honour him by his pre-
sence, and as if to reverence or adore him Therefore the king stayed,
and, as these evil-doers advised, sent messengers unto saint Patrick,
commanding that he should appear before him; and he forbade all
his people, that when he came, any one should stand up before him.
So the prelate, having finished his holy duties, appeared, and no one
stood up before him, for so had the king commanded." One only dis-
obeyed this order : Ere, the son of Dego, struck with the impressively
dignified and venerable aspect of Patrick, stood up, and offered him
his seat. He was converted by the good saint's address, and became
a person of reputed sanctity. His eloquence — the sanctity of his
demeanour, together with that presiding spirit of divine power, of which
we are authorized to assume the adequate co-operation in all the cases
of the first preaching of the gospel to the heathen — had the same
powerful effects, of which so many instances are to be read in the
early history of the church. Laogaire and his court, became converts
in the course of a little time.*

From Tara, he proceeded to Taltean, where, as the reader of the
preceding sections is aware, the people met at a great annual fair
with their families. There could not be a more fit place for his object,
as there was no other occasion could bring the same multitudes to-
gether, in a temper so suited to the purpose of conversion. One of
the peculiar advantages it offered, was the order and perfect sobriety
of deportment, which was one of the regulations chiefly enforced at
this meeting. The two brothers of king Laogaire were here before
him; of these Cairbre received him with insult, but Conal, who was
the grandfather of Golumbkille, listened courteously, was convinced,
and became a convert. So deeply was this prince impressed, that he
offered his own dwelling to the saint ; and a monastery was founded,
with a city called Domnach Phadruig (now Down Patrick), from the
saint. Near this, the prince built a dwelling for himself, which was
called Rath Keltair.

* Amongst these was the poet Fiech, who wrote the saint's life in verse, and
was afterward bishop of Sletty.

112 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

Patrick next bent his way towards Connaught ; he met in this journey
the two daughters of Laogaire, the ruddy Ethne and the fair Fidelia,
accompanied by two Druids, their instructors. This scene is de-
scribed by Joceline : — " And of Laogaire were born two daughters,
like roses growing in a rose-bed; and the one was of a ruddy com-
plexion, and she was called Ethne, and the other was fair, and she
was called Fedella; and they were educated by these magicians.
And early on a certain morning, the sun having just arisen, they went
to bathe in a clear fountain, on the margin whereof they found
the saint sitting with other holy men. And regarding his countenance
and garb, they were struck with wonder, and inquired of his birth
and residence, taking him for an apparition." The young ladies,
considering this impression, must have had reasonably firm nerves.
The saint, however, gravely told them, that he had more important
information to offer ; and that it would be fitter for them to ask him
questions concerning God, than about his earthly dwelling. On this
they desired that he would explain on the subject thus proposed. And
he preached a sermon, in which he explained the articles of Christian
belief; and explained to them, in answer to their further questions,
the nature of the eucharist, which he persuaded them to receive. The
princesses, on receiving the holy elements, according to the story,
immediately died. Their Druid teachers, not unreasonably, angry at
this incident, assailed the saint with loud and bitter reproach. But
Patrick opposed their railing with divine truth, and succeeded in con-
verting them also.

We cannot here omit another of the many fables to be found among
the biographers of St Patrick; the more especially as it relates to a
popular tradition. At the approach of Lent, he withdrew to a lofty
mountain in Mayo, now known by the name of Croagh Patrick, to
meditate among its tranquil elevations, above the " smoke and stir" of
heathen Ireland. " To this place," says Joceline, " he gathered together
the several tribes of serpents and venomous creatures, and drove them
headlong into the Western ocean; and that from thence proceeds
that exemption, which Ireland enjoys, from all poisonous reptiles."
Ware mentions on this, that Solinus " who wrote some hundred years
before St Patrick's arrival in Ireland, takes notice of this exemption."
The same learned and authoritative writer cites Isidore of Seville, and
Bede, also, to the same purpose ; with Cambrensis, who " treats it as a
fable, and even the credulous Colgan gives it up." For any reader of
the present age, such an exposition must be merely curioUs.

After his descent from Croagh Patrick, he founded a monastery in
Umaile, an ancient district of West Mayo, the country of the O'Mallies.
The name of this monastery was Achad Fobhair ; afterwards an epis-
copal see, but since, the site of a parish church in the diocese of Tuam.

He next proceeded northward, until he reached the district of the
modern barony of Tirawly, preaching and converting multitudes by
the way. Here stood the ancient wood, towards which his thoughts
had long ranged; it was the scene from which the voice of his dream
had called him into Ireland ; and here, opportunely, a mighty multitude
was gathered together, for the sons of Amalgord were contending for
the election to their father's crown, and had convened the nobles and

ST. PATRICK. 113

people to council. Many wonderful accounts are given, by different
writers, of the success of his preaching here ; but in his Confession, he
mentions having converted many thousands.

He next travelled on through Sligo, and along the northern coast
of Connaught, every where preaching and converting multitudes to the
faith. And then passing on through Tirconnel, he staid for the con-
version of prince Owen, the son of the king Neill. Having crossed
Lough Foyle, from the peninsula of Inishowen, he remained for a few
weeks, making converts, and forming ecclesiastical institutions in the
neighbourhood ; in this, pursuing the prudent course of a skilful con-
queror, who places sufficient garrisons for the preservation of his con-
quests. It is needless, in a sketch which we are endeavouring to
render brief, to dwell on the similar events which followed his course
through Dalriada, or to name all the foundations, of which there is now
no memory, but the dry record of the chronicle. He passed through
many places, and in all effected the same invaluable results, in the
course of a circuit, which cost him more than three or four years of
toil and travel. In this course he founded the bishopricks of Louth
and Clogher.

It was on this tour that he is said to have been joyfully received by
the king of Munster, or as some with more probability state, by his
son ./Engus. A statement has been added to this account, which in-
volves more serious interest, because it is the subject of much contro-
versy. Some of the writers upon this period say, that St Patrick was
at this time visited by his predecessors Ailbe, Declan, Ibar, and Kieran ;
but that a point of form was near occasioning the separation of these
holy men. His predecessors were unwilling to submit to his ecclesias-
tical supremacy, as head of the Irish church. After some anxious
contention upon this point, protracted by the obstinacy of Ibar, the
difference was settled on the consideration of St Patrick's extraordinary
labours and eminent success, and the jurisdiction of the other eccle-
siastics was satisfactorily settled and limited.

It is, however, to be observed, that this account is not warranted
by any of the lives of St Patrick. Usher, who quotes lives of De-
clan and Ailbe, evidently lays no stress upon their authority. The
extract which he makes to this effect, is prefaced with these words,
" If it be allowable to credit a doubtful life of Declan."* Our main
objection is, however, on the score of chronology, as according to the
dates which we (on full consideration) adopt for the lives of these persons,
they were none of them likely to have attained the age or authority
which the above statement implies. We do not yet concur with the
opposite opinion, which excludes St Patrick and defers the synod, for
the purpose of admitting the others. This solution, which unfortun-
ately resembles the story of " Hamlet omitted," in the stroller's play-
bill, involves a violation of the principles of historical criticism. We
may safely presume that other synods were held by Ailbe, &c., but we
are not at liberty to set aside the whole particulars of a statement, and
then allege that it has reference to another place and time with other
particulars. The error involved is only to be illustrated by the faroi-

* Primord. 801.
T. H Ir.

114 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

cal blunder in a well known comic song, which expresses, with singular
aptness, the same confusion of identities.* When the leading and essential
parts of a statement are overthrown, the whole becomes a fiction.f
But if we admit that St Patrick held the synod at the time, it involves
no difficulty to suppose very gross errors to have been made as to the
subordinate actors and unessential particulars. The synod, if a reality,
was one at which St Patrick experienced opposition, and terminated it
by certain means. That he experienced such opposition about the
time is certain, being mentioned by himself in his Confessio.

An incident, referred to the same occasion, if not truly told, has at
least the merit of being well invented. The king's son .^Engus, being
a convert, was baptized by the saint. During the performance of the
sacred rite, it so happened that the staff on which St Patrick was lean-
ing his weight was inadvertently placed on the prince's foot ; he think-
ing this painful incident to be part of the ceremony, or repressed by
the reverence of his feelings, patiently sustained the agonizing pressure,
until relieved by the change of position which must have occurred
during the service. St Patrick in his Confessio, states the opposition
he had frequently to encounter from kings and chiefs, and the pains he
took to conciliate them by presents ; one of the effects of which appears
to have been, that while the fathers stood aloof, they permitted their
sons to follow him.

From this, St Patrick pursued his way through Munster, making
numerous converts, and fortifying the church in faith and discipline.
And having extended his course through South Munster, he proceeded
onward into the south of the county of Waterford, and was for the
most part received with joy by the people and their princes. Seven
years elapsed in the proceedings of this part of his episcopal tour,
when, solemnly blessing the country and its inhabitants, he turned on
his way toward Leinster.

About this time, 452, it was, that one of his bishops, Secundinus,
died in Dunshauglin, the seat of his see. He is remarked as the first
bishop who died in Ireland, and as the author of a poem in honour of
St Patrick, still extant. It has been published by Ware and many
others, and speaks of the saint as still living at the time.

To this period, also, is referred the saint's well-known letter to the
tyrant Coroticus, a writing generally concluded to be genuine. Coro-
ticus was a piratical chief, who probably dwelt on the northern coast
of Britain. He made a descent on the Irish coast, and though sup-
posed to have been a professed Christian, carried off captive a number
of converts, recently baptized or confirmed by St Patrick, who men-
tions them thus in his epistle: "...innocentium Christianorum, quos ego
innumeros Deo genui, atque in Christo confirmari, postera die qua
chrisma neophyti in veste Candida flagrabat in fronti ipsorum."J
These Coroticus carried away, having slaughtered many in taking
them, and sold them into captivity. St Patrick upon hearing of the
outrage, first addressed a private epistle to the tyrant, by whom it

* " Arrah, Paddy," said he, " is it you or your brother?"

t The ohject of the biographers of Declan, &c., is justly presumed to have been
a desire to magnify the pretensions of their sees.

J Quoted by Lanigan, i. 299.

ST. PATRICK. 115

was disregarded. He then wrote a public letter, of which the following
appears to be a summary: " Announcing himself a bishop and estab-
lished in Ireland, he proclaims to all those who fear God, that said
murderers and robbers are excommunicated and estranged from
Christ, and that it is not lawful to show them civility, nor to eat and
drink with them, nor to receive their offerings until, sincerely repenting,
they make atonement to God, and liberate his servants, and the hand-
maids of Christ. He begs of the faithful, into whose hands the epistle
may come, to get it read before the people every where, and before
Coroticus himself, and to communicate it to his soldiers, in the hope
that they and their master may return to God, &c. Among other very
affecting expostulations, he observes, that the Roman and Gallic
Christians are wont to send proper persons with great sums of money
to the Franks and other Pagans, for the purpose of redeeming Christian
captives, while, on the contrary, that monster Coroticus made a trade
of selling the members of Christ to nations ignorant of God."*

In the course of his episcopal journeyings, it may be presumed that
the saint did not travel without meeting difficulties of every kind in-
cidental to the state of the country and time. Accordingly, in all the
lives we meet narrations of peril by the way, which only require to be
divested of the absurd additions with which all the monkish historians and
biographers have ornamented them, to have the resemblance of truth.
The story of Failge, who, by treachery, attempted to murder the saint
in his chariot, and slew his driver in the attempt; the robber Mac-
caldus and his associates, of whom one feigned sickness, to make the
saint's charity the occasion for his assassination, want but a little change
of name and weapon to present no untrue picture of atrocities of re-
cent times, attempted in the self-same spirit, though alas with different
success ! Of these stories, the latter is at least happily conceived. The
robber and his heathen accomplices, doubtless scandalized by the falling
away of their country from its ancient superstitions, and fired with in-
dignant feelings to which it would not be quite fair to refuse the praise
of genuine Irish patriotism, resolved to redress their country's wrongs
by waylaying the saint upon his road. The plot was laid, and at the
appointed hour (the biographers unjustly rob the patriots of the merit
of preconcerted design) they were at the place of appointment, when
Patrick, ignorant of their laudable purpose, came walking on the road.
The assassins had contrived an expedient of native dexterity : knowing
that the saint never denied the claim of sickness on his humanity and
charity, one of them named Gorran or O'Gorraghane, feigning illness,
lay down under a cloak. By this happy contrivance, it seemed evi-
dent that the most favourable opportunity would be secured, of knock-
ing out his brains while he was bending over the crafty colt who thus
deceived his charitable credulity. All this having been arranged, ac-
cording to the plot, the other patriots stood around. " Sir," said one
of the company as he came up, " one of our party has been taken ill
on the road ; will you sing some of your incantations over him, that so
he may be restored to health ? "

" It would not," replied Patrick, " be in the least surprising if he

* Lanigan, Eccles. Hist. i. 297.

116 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

were sick." As he uttered these words very coldly, and -without
stooping as they expected, the crafty rogues thought to excite his
sympathy by assuming the appearance of increased anxiety ; and bend-
ing their looks upon their prostrate comrade, they were startled by
the change which had passed over his features: he was dead! The
remainder of the story is such as every reader will correctly ima-
gine— Maccaldus became a convert — was baptized — became a bishop
in the Isle of Man.* Probus, speaking of the same person, says, " Hie
est Macfail episcopus clarus et sanctus postrnodum effectus in Evoni-
casium civitate, cujus nos adjubant sancta suffragia." Dr Lanigan,
who quotes this sentence, as omitted by primate Usher, remarks, as the
cause of the omission, "he did not relish the invocation of saints;"
we think Dr Lanigan wrong in supposing that Usher could feel the
slightest care about any statement by a monk of the 10th century.
We notice this here, not for the purpose of quarrelling about such
trifles with our trustworthy guide, but to suggest to the reader of the
same class of old legends, one of the useful rules of distinction between
probable and improbable. The writer of a legend, if he believes his
tale to be untrue, would be likely to mould it to his purpose ; if true
his own creed would necessarily suggest constructions, which, believing
to be matters of course, he would add as essential parts of the narra-
tion. The above expression of Probus belongs to neither of these
cases, as it is simply the expression of a pious though superstitious
sentiment of his own. As we have ourselves adopted the rule of omit-
ting the more marvellous parts of such incidents as we have seen occa-
sion to notice, it may also be fit to assure such readers as may not
approve of such omissions, as amounting to a denial of these miracu-
lous incidents, that it is far from our design to imply such an opinion.
We think that the relation of a miracle performed by the primitive
missionaries of the gospel of Christ, is neither to be lightly admitted
or rashly denied. There cannot be a rational doubt that, if the purpose
required such deeds, they would not be wanting. But the sources of
imposture are too obvious, not to suggest to every sane mind the ne-
cessity of a severe law of admission. Mere presumptive probability,
whatever may be its value as confirmation, is useless as evidence —
tradition more worthless still — and the legendary writings of so remote
a period, require many corroborations of existing monuments, concur-
ring testimonies, adverse notices, numerous and authenticated copies
from documents of genuine character, to give them the least claim upon
the historian's assent,

St Patrick is still, by his more circumstantial biographers, traced
on his way, erecting churches and establishing bishops. Usher men-
tions a tradition, still remaining in his own time, heard by himself
among the inhabitants of Louth, that the saint had been some time
among them. The same writer adds, that having erected a church
here, when he afterwards determined to found his cathedral of
Armagh, he appointed to the place a British ecclesiastic of great piety,
named Maccheus.f

In the course of this tour he also visited Dublin, where he converted

* Joceline, &c. f Usher, Prim. 855.

COLUMBKILLE. 117

and baptized Alphin, the king, with all his people, in a fountain called,
after him, Patrick's well. He also built a church, on the foundation
of which the cathedral of St Patrick was afterwards raised. The
fountain Usher mentions as having seen it, " not far from the steeple,
but lately obstructed and inclosed amongst private houses." It is also
mentioned by Usher, from the Black Book of Christ's church, that the
vaults of this cathedral had existence previous to the coming of St Patrick,
having been built "by the Danes ;" but that he celebrated the eucharist
in one of those vaults, afterwards called the vault of St Patrick.

It is with most likelihood computed, that it was after these long
and laborious wanderings, after he had established his church on
the best foundations which circumstances permitted, that he bent his
steps towards the north, with the intention of establishing a primatial
see, and confirming his labours by a body of canons. With this in
view he reached the place then called Denein Sailrach, and since Ar-
magh. From the chief of this district he obtained possession of a large
tract, and founded a city upon it : " large in compass, and beautiful in
situation, with monastery, cathedral, schools, &c., and resolved to estab-
lish it as the primatial see of the Irish church." This foundation, ac-
cording to Usher and Harris, took place in 445. Here, and at his
favourite retreat at Sabhul, he probably spent the remainder of his
life. To the same period must also be referred the canons universally
ascribed to him, and supposed to have been ordained in a synod held
in Armagh. They are yet extant, and many of their provisions are
" such as to indicate their antiquity.

Omitting the absurdity of a visit to Rome in his old age, we may
now close our perhaps too rapid sketch of his eventful life. Amongst
the last of his acts was the sketch he has left us of his life, under the
title of Confession. This simple, characteristic, often affecting, and
always unpretending document, is precisely what the occasion and the
character of the writer required, and is quite free from the difficulties
which affect his more recent memoirs. He speaks of approaching
death, and returns thanks for the mercies of God to himself, and to the
Irish, &c. He was seized with his last illness at Saul, or Sabhul, near
Downpatrick. Wishing to die in Armagh, he attempted the journey,
but was compelled by his complaint to return, and breathed his last on
the 17th of March.

COLUMBKILLE.

A. D. 577.

AT an early period, the precise origin of which is not ascertained on
any sufficient data, Christianity was introduced into England. But in
the still barbarous state of its inhabitants, devoid of even the first
rudiments of art and literature, there was no soil into which a national
faith, inculcating Che principles of a high civilization, and claiming a
moral and intellectual assent and conformity, could well strike root. A
constant strife of petty kings, and a succession of desolating rcvolu-

118

EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

tions, suspended the progress of every civilizing influence, and repress-
ed the human minJ ; and the newly- implanted faith, after a precarious
struggle, in which it never gained its true position, was swept away by
the Anglo-Saxon conquest. From this a long period of heathen dark-
ness followed, during which there is nothing to call for the observa-
tion of the ecclesiastical historian; unless the contemplation of that
low and degraded state of human nature, which manifests in stronger
contrast the powers of revealed truth to civilize and enlighten, as well
as to redeem. From the Anglo-Saxon wars in the 5th and the begin-
ning of the 6th centuries, there was, through the whole of the latter
century, an interval of extreme ignorance and darkness, until the me-
morable arrival of Augustin and his missionary train, in 596. It was
during this night of the British churches, that a bright and steady
light of religion and civilization was kindled in the northern island of
Hy, from untraceable antiquity the seat of heathen idolatries. There,
amid the waves of the northern sea, the word of power and the arts of
civil life obtained a permanent habitation ; and, through the darkness
.of the unsettled age, sent out the message of peace and truth; and in
better times spread far and wide its saving light among the reviving
churches of the British isle. In noticing these facts it would be a
grievous omission to pass unnoticed the strong reflex evidence they
cast upon the antiquities of the Irish church. The ages of revolution
which have overswept our island so repeatedly, have carried away much
of that evidence of ancient things which impresses the eye of common,
observation with the sense of conviction : the visible remains tell too
little, and history does us wrong. But the history and the remains of
lona have derived, from its isolated station, a permanency ; and from
its connexion with antiquity, a celebrity, which carries back inquiry
to a further date, and unfolds a steady and graphic gleam of that
ancient church, from the bosom of which it first threw the glorious
light of redemption over the waves of the north. Whatever fatal
destruction may have, by repeated spoliations and burnings, obliterated
the better part of our annals ; whatever lying legends render truth
itself suspicious in records which a later time has produced ; or whatever
barbarism of recent times may seem to contradict all our pretensions :
it must yet be felt, that the ancient church, from which the whole of
north Britain, and, we may add, so many churches of Europe, drew
their most illustrious minds and their efficient beginnings, could not
have been less eminent for the gifts they communicated than is affirm-
ed by the most high-coloured tradition. And it must be felt, that what-
ever we are to subtract, for legendary invention, and misrepresentations
arising from the doctrinal errors of after time, the facts, after all, are
likely to be as much incorrect from omission as from addition ; and
that, however the historians of later times may err in details, yet there
is no reason for rejecting the high claim of the antiquity of the Irish
church. According to a biographer of the 1 6th century : " Towards
the middle of the 6th century of redemption, in which Hibernia,
the island of saints, shone with saints as numerous as the stars of
heaven, there arose in the same island a new star, which excelled all
others, as the sun outshines the lesser stars of heaven." This star was
Columbkille, whose birth probably happened about 521. He -was of a

COLUMBKILLE.

119

royal race, being a lineal descendant, in the fourth generation, from
Niall of the Nine Hostages. His father's name was Feidlim; his
mother's, Ethnea, eminent for piety, and, like her husband, of royal
descent. During her pregnancy this lady had a dream, that a person
of majestic stature and presence stood before her, and presented her
with a splendid veil, which she had scarcely touched, when, escaping
from her hand, it rose upon the air, floated away, and expanded before
her astonished eyes, as it receded into distance, until its vast folds were
spread abroad far over hill, valley, forest, and lake. Turning to her
solemn visitant, he told her that it was too precious to be left in her
possession. This dream did not fail to receive its interpretation as it
was accomplished in the events of Columba's after life. At his baptism,
he is said to have received the name of Criomthan. The following
translation of the legend of this circumstance may be received as a
specimen of the style and manner of those early poetic legends, in
which so much of the history of this period has been preserved : —

" The pious Christian hero Collumcille,
When he was baptized, received the name
Of Criomthan Oluin ; his guardian angel
Was the most watchful Axall ; but the demon
Who, with infernal malice stung, attended
Upon the saint, to torture and torment him,
Was called Demal.*

The change of name is referred, by one of his biographers, to acci-
dent, and may well have occurred as related, though rendered doubtful by
the superstitious tone which seemed to refer every slight occurrence
to special design. His exceeding meekness attracted the attention of
the children of the neighbourhood, who were accustomed to see him
coming forth to meet them at the gate of the monastery in which he
received his education, and by a fanciful adaptation, common enough to
lively children, they called him the " pigeon of the church," which, in
Irish, is " Collum na cille." The childish soubriquet adhered to him,
and had perhaps taken the place of a name, when it caught the atten-
tion, and excited the superstitious fancy of his guardian, Florence, who
set it down as the special indication of the intention of Providence,
and from thenceforth called him Collum cille.

He is stated to have studied in Down, under the eminent St Finian,
and other pious persons; and began early to acquire reputation for
sanctity and knowledge of Scripture.

The first forty-three years of his life were passed in Ireland, where
he founded several monasteries ; of which one is thus noticed by Bede :
" Before St Columb came into Britain, he founded a noble monastery
in Ireland, in a place which, from a great plenty of oaks, is, in the
language of the Scots, called Dearmach, i. e. ' the field of oaks.' "

This Ware describes as the "same house with the Augustinian
monasteries, now called Durrogh or Darmagh, in the King's county."
Another of his foundations was near the city of Derry. The history
of this monastery and city from the annalists, may be cited for the
miniature outline which it may be said to reflect of Irish history.

* Resting.

120 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

Founded about 546, on a large tract of land, said to have been granted
to Columbkille by prince Aidan, a descendant from the same royal
house, it grew into a large and prosperous city and monastery. In
the Annals of the Pour Masters, are the following entries of its cala-
mities from the 8th century. In 783, Derry Calgach was burned;
989, it was plundered by foreigners ; the same entry occurs for 997 ;
in 1095, the abbey was burned. In 1124, a prince of Aileach was
slain, in an assault of the church of Columbkille ; 1 1 35, Derry- Columb-
kille, with it churches, was burned; 1149, it was burned; 1166, it
underwent another burning; 1195, the church was plundered. In
1 203, Derry was burned from the burial ground of St Martin, to the
well of Adamnan. In 1211, the town was plundered and destroyed.
In 1213, it was again plundered. In 1214, it was, with the whole
district (O'Neill's country), granted, by king John, to Thomas Mac-
Uchtred, earl of Athol. In 1222, Derry was plundered by O'Neill.*
This appears to have been the favourite residence of the holy man ;
it was rendered sacred by the recollection of his pious deeds, and the
traditions of his miraculous works. Among the most interesting of the
ancient memorials of his affection for the place, is a passage in his life
by O'Donnel, in which it is mentioned as his desire, that the delight-
ful grove, near the monastery of Derry, should for ever remain uncut.
And that if any of the trees should happen to fall, or be torn up by a
storm, it should not be removed for nine days. The tenth of its price
was then to be given to the poor, a third reserved for the hospitable
hearth, and the remainder, something more than half, distributed among
the citizens. So great was his regard for this grove, that, being about
to found the church called Dubh-reigleas, when it was found to stand
in the way, so as to confine the intended site — sooner than destroy
any of his favourite trees, he ordered the building to be erected
in a direction transverse to the common position, from east to west.
But that this might not occasion a departure from the usual practice,
he ordered the table, at which he commonly officiated, to be erected
in the eastern end, " which the remains of the aforesaid church, exist-
ing at the present day, confirms."f Columbkille is said to have found-
ed many other monasteries ; O'Donnel states the number at 300 ; the
more probable number of 100 is adopted by Usher, from Joceline.
It, however, is the more difficult to be precise, as there is much con-
fusion on account of the numerous persons bearing the name of Co-
lumba: the extensive jurisdiction of his monastery in lona, seems to
attest at least that many others were founded by the same person.
Having established his monastery of Derry, we are told by O'Donnel,
he was seized by a violent desire to travel through the whole country,
and awaken all its inhabitants to the study of piety. In the course of
this circuit, he visited Lagenia, Connaught, the county of Meath, &c. ;
wherever he came, founding and restoring churches, and exciting
every sex and rank to piety. Not the least space, in the relation of
these adventures, is commonly bestowed on the miracles of the saint,

* For these facts we are indebted to an extract given by Mr Petrie, in his mas-
terly article upon the antiquities of Derry, in that valuable work now proceeding
from the Ordnance Survey.

t Colgan, Thanm. p. 398.

COLUMBKILLE. 12 1

It was probably after this foundation that he received the order of
priesthood from Etchen, bishop of Clonfadin. The story is curious
enough. By the consent of the ecclesiastics of his neighbourhood, he
was sent to Etchen,, bishop of a neighbouring diocese, to be made
a bishop of. When he arrived, the bishop was, according to the
usage of this early period, engaged in ploughing his field. Columb-
kille was kindly received, and stated that he came for ordination.
But it did not occur to him to specify the orders he came for.
The bishop, knowing that he had only received deacon's orders, very
naturally pursued the common course and gave him priest's orders.
When this oversight became known, he offered to consecrate him
a bishop, but Columbkille, who looked on the circumstance as a mani-
festation of the will of God, declined this further step. The story
derives some confirmation from the circumstance that he never be-
came a bishop, though occupying the station and authority in an
eminent degree.

But it is as the apostle of the Picts, that Columbkille is entitled to
the distinction of being here thus diffusely noticed. Until his time, but
slight inroads had been made on the paganism of the northern parts
of the district, as yet unknown by the name of Scotland. In the 4th
century, the preaching of St Ninian had been attended with small
success among the Southern Picts: St Kentigern, from the districts
of Northumbria, had followed without obtaining any more efficient
result. Of these persons and their preaching the accounts are per-
plexed and unsatisfactory, nor is the broken and tangled thread ot
their history worth our attempting to unravel here: suffice it, that
there seems to have been a widespread predominance of heathenism,
both in Scotland and the northern realms of England, in 534, when
Columbkille, owing to circumstances imperfectly related, and of slight
interest, went over to attempt the conversion of the Northern Picts.
O'Donnel mentions his having levied war against king Dermod, for a
decision oppressive and tyrannical to the church of Ireland ; and de-
scribes a battle in which the troops of Columbkille gained the victory
with much slaughter.*

The story is inconsistent with the character of Columbkille. There
is another which, though liable to the same objection, is yet worth
telling, because it is likely to involve a certain portion of truth, and as
characteristic of the time. According to O'Donnel, Columbkille was
the guest of Finian, of Clanbile, who lent him a copy of some part of
the holy Scripture to read: Columbkille, who was celebrated for his
penmanship, soon began to transcribe the manuscript. Finian, on being
told of the circumstance, highly resented it, and insisted on his right
to the copy which Columbkille had taken. Columbkille referred the
case to the arbitration of king Dermod, who decided in favour of
Finian. This injustice was, according to the story, retaliated by a
threat of vengeance, quite as inconsistent with the whole character ot
Columbkille, as Finian's resentment and its motive were unworthy of
a Christian of any age. A more probable story mentions an outrage
committed by Dermod, which is assigned as leading to the war which

• Colgan, Thaura. 406.

122

EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

followed : A son of the king of Connaught, pursued by Dermod, took
refuge with Columbkille, from the influence of whose rank and sanctity
he hoped for protection ; the licentious fury of king Dermod, however,
was stopped by no consideration of reverence or regard, and the youth
was dragged from the arms of his protector, and murdered before his
face. An outrage so aggravated, bearing the atrocious character of
sacrilege joined with cruelty, appealed loudly to the compassion and
piety of the royal relations of Columbkille, and those of the murdered
prince. The forces of Tyrone and Connaught were raised, and the
battle of Culedreibhne (near Sligo) took place. To this statement it
is added, that during the battle, while Finian prayed for Dermod's
party, their antagonists were backed by the more effective devotions of
Columbkille. Dermod was defeated with a loss of three thousand
men; while the allies, as the tale runs, lost but one. This otherwise
incredible disproportion is, however, made quite natural by the addi-
tional circumstance — that during the battle a gigantic angel made its
appearance among the ranks of Tyrone and Connaught, and struck
their enemies with panic and dismay. These passages — of which we
may say with Usher " quod poetica magis quam historica fide habetur
hie descriptum" — though they cannot be received as the truth, are yet
valuable as exhibiting the mode of thinking of an age, and as indicating
what may be called the actual poetry of the age of saints; they are
also, it must be said, likely to contain as much of the truth as can
be, by any possibility, extracted from among the dreams and legendary
concretions, the frauds and conflicting statements, of traditionary
history. The only fixed point in the narrative is the fact, that the
battle was fought about the year 561. We shall not unnecessarily
lengthen our narrative, with the equally doubtful tales of the excom-
munication or the penance of Columbkille, in consequence of his share
in these transactions.

It was probably in 563, about two years after the battle of Cule-
dreibhne, that Columbkille, leaving a scene in which he was incessantly
harassed by the feuds, animosities, and tyrannies, of his royal enemies
and friends, migrated to try his success among the Picts. The follow-
ing is part of the account given by Bede : — " Columba arrived in
Britain in the ninth year of Brude, the son of Meilochon, king of the
Picts, who was a potent king, and whose subjects were, by his preaching
and example, converted to the Christian faith. On this account he
obtained from them the above-mentioned island as a demesne for his
monastery."

In accordance with this account, it is said, he landed at the island,
" Inish Druinish," or island of Druids, and having successfully laboured
for the conversion of the Picts, and converted their king, he received
from him the possession of the island of Hy, or lona, still called I by
the natives. Another account which, with Lanigan, we are inclined to
think far more probable, represents Columbkille as having obtained
possession of the island from his relative, Conall, king of the Irish
Scots, then settled in North Britain. This opinion is supported by Dr
Lanigan, from the Annals of Tighernach and Ulster, and enforced by
the opinion of Usher, who observes that Hy was too distant from the
British territories to have been part of them: while the position of

COLUMBKILLE. 123

Conall was such as to make it highly improbable that he should not
have been its possessor. In either case, it seems that it was at the
time occupied by the Druids, whose remains are affirmed to be yet
traceable there. These he expelled, and began his operations by the
erection of huts, and a temporary church of slight materials. Having
thus effected his settlement, he began his operations in those wild
regions north of the Grampian hills, where no Christian preacher had
ever before made his way ; and ere long succeeded in converting king
Brude, with his court and people, who soon followed the example of
their king. There is something in the history of these rapid and total
conversions, which seems to lend a doubtful air to this period of church
history. It is, however, in conformity with the entire history of the
Christian church. The same All-disposing Power, which enabled the
primitive teachers to triumph over the wide- spread and deep-seated
obstacles presented by the gorgeous and sensual heathenism of Greece
and Rome guarded as it was, with imposing philosophy, and ornamented
by poetry and the arts, was also present to guide and give efficacy to
the apostles of the British churches, who had obstacles of a less formid-
able nature to contend with. The paganism of the barbarian Pict
had little in its constitution to hold captive either the taste, passions, or
reason. The very first lessons of the gospel carried, in the apt simpli-
city of their adaptation to the wants and defects of humanity, an evi-
dence which must have been more impressive, as those wants were the
less supplied from all other sources. Without hastily adopting the
miraculous narrations of monkish historians, the Christian reader will
also readily acknowledge, that the powers of the Spirit, which never
deserted the missionaries who founded and extended the church of
Christ, cannot be supposed to have been less bountiful of its gifts than
the occasion required. And if we feel obliged to reject narrations
which want all the characters either of evidence or adaptation, on a
iust view of the general analogy of God's dealing, as evidenced in the
authentic records of the sacred history : even here, too, it must be kept
in mind, that the circumstances were different, and that a different
kind of opposition was to be encountered. This, however, we offer
rather as a reason against sweeping incredulity, than as warranting
the affirmation of any special instance we have met with. The cause
of sacred truth imposes strict severity in the reception of the miracu-
lous ; and while we insist on even the necessity of such (the only un-
questionable) attestations of Divine authority, we cannot admit the
simplest case on the authority of an unsupported legend. Hence we
offer the few of these which we have admitted, rather as curious illus-
trations, than as authorized facts. Among such we may relate the
first adventure of our saint among his Highland neighbours. Arriving
at the residence of king Brude, his entrance was denied by the inhos-
pitable gates of the pagan king. After suing for admission to no
purpose ; and, we must suppose, allowing a fair time for the use of
gentler means, Columbkille advanced, and signing the cross upon the
stubborn doors, they flew open at a gentle push, and admitted the saint
with his company. The king was in council when he was disturbed
with the account of the startling prodigy; yielding at once to the
influence of astonishment and superstitious fear, he went forth with

124 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

his council to meet the formidable visitor. Finding his errand to be
one of benevolence and peace, and affected by the eloquence of his
language, and the venerable sanctity of his manner, presence, and com-
pany, he received him with respect and kindness, and submitted to
receive his instructions. The result rests on less doubtful grounds.
Then began the conversion of the northern Picts.

In the mean time we may assume the growth of the Island church.
His fame was soon widely diffused, disciples flocked from all quarters,
and the means probably increasing with the increase of his flock, he
soon considerably enlarged his foundation to more proportionable
dimensions ; the buildings increased in number and size ; and the wide-
spread remains of an ancient monastery and nunnery offer the most
authentic record of the saint's power and successful labours. At first,
it is said, St Columbkille refused to permit the foundation of a nunnery :
he, probably, like his more legendary countrymen, Saints Senanus and
Kevin, found natural reason in the infirmity of the human passions.
He soon, however, learnt to regret the error of overhasty zeal : constant
observation taught him to revere the sanctity of a colony of Augustinian
nuns, who dwelt in another small island in the vicinity, and they were
in a little time permitted to dispel the gloom of his monastic domain,
by settling in the same island, to the mutual improvement, it may be
easily judged, of both. There seems, from the still perceptible ruins
of these ancient edifices, to have been a broid paved way, leading from
the nunnery to the cathedral, where the two communities met in the
festivals, and solemn hours of devotion, without the levity of an earthly
aspiration, and parted with their piety exalted by a communion which
never fails to expand and warm every affection of the breast. There
is nothing in these ruins from which their precise date can be fixed.
On the island are the remains of edifices built at different periods,
during the interval between the 6th and 12th centuries, when the
importance of the place declined. The following is a recent descrip-
tion : — " The remains of these edifices, almost all constructed of fine
sienite, together with crosses and sepulchral monuments, are the anti-
quities now extant. The exact date of some of the former is known, but
the church is said to have been built by queen Margaret, towards the
latter end of the 1 1th century. This, though inferior to many other
structures, was a magnificent edifice for that period. No polished
work is employed, but the stone, which is compared to the finest used
by the ancients, has been brought to a plain surface. Many blocks
five or six feet long are seen in the walls, and also in the rubbish.
The church is built in the form of a cross, 164 feet long without, and
34 broad. The body of the church is 60 feet in length, and the two
aisles of the transept or cross, are each 30 feet long, and 18 broad,
within the walls. The choir is 60 feet in length; within it are
several fine pillars, carved in the gothic way, with great variety of
fanciful and ludicrous, representing parts of Scripture history.
Amongst the rest is an angel, with a pair of scales, weighing souls,
and the devil keeping down that in which is the weight with his paw.
On his face is portrayed a sly and malicious grin. The east window
is a beautiful specimen of gothic workmanship. In the middle of the
cathedral rises a tower 22 feet square, and between 70 and 80 high,

COLUMBKILLE. 125

supported by four arches, and ornamented with has reliefs. At the
upper end of the chancel stood a large table or altar of pure white
marble, 6 feet long and 4 broad, curiously veined and polished. Of
this beautiful fragment of antiquity there are now scarcely any remains,
as it has been all carried off piece-meal by visitants, as relics, and b\
the natives, from a superstitious belief that a piece of it was a pre-
servative from shipwreck. Near where this altar stood, on the north
side, is a tombstone of black marble, on which is a fine recumbent
figure of the abbot Macfingone, exceedingly well executed, as large
as life, with an inscription in Latin as follows: — ' Here lies John
Mackinnon, abbot of lona, who died A. D. 1500, to whose soul may the
Most High be merciful.' Opposite to this tomb, on the other side,
executed in the same manner, is the tombstone of abbot Kenneth.
On the floor is the figure of an armed knight, with an animal sprawl-
ing at his feet. On the right side of the church, but contiguous to it,
are the remains of the college, some of the cloisters of which are still
visible. The common hall is entire, with stone seats for the disputants.
A little to the north of the cathedral are the remains of the bishop's
house, and on the south is a chapel dedicated to St Oran, pretty entire,
60 feet long, and 22 broad, within the walls, but nearly filled up with
rubbish and monumental stones. In this are many tombstones of
marble, particularly of the great Lords of the Isles. South of the
chapel is an enclosure called Reilig Ouran, ' the burying ground of
Oran,'containing a great number of tombs, but so over-grown with weeds
as to render few of the inscriptions legible. In this enclosure lie the
remains of forty-eight Scottish kings, four kings of Ireland, eight
Norwegian monarchs, and one king of France, who were ambitious
of reposing on this consecrated ground, where their ashes would not
mix with the dust of the vulgar. South from the cathedral and St
Oran's chapel, are the ruins of the nunnery, the church of which is
still pretty entire, being 58 feet by 20 on the floor, which is thickly
covered with cow-dung, except at the east end, which Mr Pennant
caused to be cleaned, and where the tomb of the last prioress is
discernible, though considerably defaced."

From this retreat Columbkille occasionally visited Ireland. One
occasion may be selected, as showing in a strong light the influence of
the saint, and the political state of the time. It was about the year
573-4, that king Aidan, the successor of Conal on the Pictish throne,
put in his claim to the sovereignty of a large part of the county Antrim,
as a descendant from its first proprietor, Cairbre Riada, and asserted
the freedom of this territory from the paramount sovereignty of the
Irish monarch. Columbkille resolved to accompany his patron. After
a tempestuous passage they landed in Ireland, and at once proceeded
to Drumceat, where the National Assembly were sitting; engaged,
it would seem, on a question respecting the order of bards, who
were at this early period beginning to wax numerous, insolent,
and troublesome, so much so, that it was thought necessary to devise
some remedy, either by reduction of their numbers and privileges, or
by a total suppression of the order. The question was decided, by the
timely arrival and interposition of the Saint, so far in favour of these
licensed liars that they were still permitted to exist, and spin out the

126

EAKLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

fabulous additions which give an apocryphal tone to our tradition.
On the introduction of the more important suit between the kings, the
question was, by general consent, referred to the wisdom and impar-
tiality of the venerable bishop — a reference made singular by the fact
of his peculiar connexion with the Scottish claimant. Columbkille,
no doubt sensible of this impropriety, and conscious of a natural de-
sire for the success of his own friend, declined the office, and it was
transferred to St Colman, who decided against king Aidan, on the
obvious and just ground, that the territory was an Irish province.

After visiting his foundations in Ireland, the bishop returned to his
Island church, where, shortly after, he felt the approach of his last
illness. Sensible of the advance of death, he retired to a small emi-
nence, from which he was enabled to overlook the holy settlement
which was the work of his piety, and the last earthly object of his
affections. Here, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, he invoked
emphatic blessings on his monastery. After this prayer, descending
from the hill, and returning to the monastery, he sat down in his shed
or hut, "tugurio," to transcribe the Psalter; and coming to that verse
of the 3d Psalm, where it is written, that good shall not be wanting
to those who trust in God, he said " Here I must stop at the end of
this page, let Baithen write what is to follow." Notwithstanding this
he so far rallied as to attend evening service, after which he retired
to his cell, and lay down on his stone bed. Again at midnight, he
made another effort to attend the church, but finding his strength to
fail, he sunk before the altar. Here the monks immediately following,
saw their revered head extended in the last faint torpor of approach-
ing death. Gathering round with their torches, they were giving way
to their sorrow, when, as the writer of his life says, " as I heard from
gome who were present, the saint — whose life had not yet departed —
opened his eyes, and looked round with wonderful joy and cheerfulness :
then Diermitius raised the saint's right hand to bless the train of
monks; but the venerable father himself, at the same time, moved it
by a voluntary effort for this purpose, and in the effort he expired,
being then 76 years of age."*

" The name of this eminent man," writes Mr Moore, " though not
so well known throughout the Latin church, as that of another Irish
saint with whom he is frequently confounded, holds a distinguished
place among the Roman and other martyrologies, and in the British
isles will long be remembered with traditional veneration. In Ireland,
rich as have been her annals in names of saintly renown, for none
has she continued to cherish so fond a reverence through all ages as
for her great Columbkille ; while that isle of the waves with which his
name is now inseparably connected, and which through his ministry
became the luminary of the Caledonian regions, has far less reason to
boast of her numerous tombs of kings, than of those heaps of votive
pebbles left by pilgrims on her shore, marking the path that once led
to the honoured shrine of her saint. So great was the reverence paid
to his remains in North Britain, that at the time when the island of
Hy began to be infested by the Danes, Kenneth the Third had his

* Extract from Keating, ii. 107.

COLUMBKILLE.

127

bones removed to Dunkeld, on the river Tay, and there founding a
church, dedicated it to his memory, while the saint's crosier, and a few
other relics, were all that fell to the share of the land of his birth."

In the Annals of the Four Masters, for the year 1006, we find
mention made of a splendid copy of the Four Gospels, said to have
been written by Columbkille's own hand, and preserved at Kells in a
cover richly ornamented with gold.* In the time of Usher, this pre-
cious manuscript was still numbered among the treasures of Kells, f
and if not written by Columbkille himself, is little doubted to have
been the work of one of his disciples.

Of the prophecies of Columbkille there are some curious accounts.
The first is of the arrival of the English, and their subduing Ireland.
Giraldus Cambrensis takes notice of the fulfilling of this prophecy.
" Then," says he, " was fulfilled the prophecy of Columb of Ireland,
as it is said to be, who long since foretold, that in this war there
should be so great a slaughter of the inhabitants, that their enemies
should swim in their blood. And the same prophet writes (as it is
reported), that a certain poor man and a beggar, and one as it were
banished from other countries, should with a small force come to
Down, and should take possession of the city, without authority from
his superior. He also foretold many wars, and various events. All
which are manifestly completed in John Courcy, who is said to have
held this prophetic book, written in Irish, in his hand, as the mirror
of his works. One reads likewise in the same book, that a certain
young man, with an armed force, should violently break through the
walls of Waterford, and, having made a great slaughter among the
citizens, should possess himself of the city. That the same young
man should march through Wexford, and at last without difficulty
enter Dublin. All which it is plain were fulfilled by earl Richard.
Further, that the city of Limerick should be twice deserted by the
English, but the third time should be held. Now already it seems
it hath been twice deserted, first by Raymond, secondly by Philip de
Braosa, &c., wherefore (according to the said prophecy), the city
being a third time assaulted, shall be retained, or rather, it was long
after fraudulently overthrown under the government of Hamo de
Valoinges, Lord Justice, and by Meiler recovered and repaired."
Thus far Cambrensis, who afterwards mentions this prophecy, as well
as that of other saints on the same subject, in these words: — " The
Irish are said to have four prophets — Moling, Brecan, Patrick, and
Columbkille, whose books in their native language are yet extant

* Usher mentions also another copy of the Gospels, said to have been written
by Columbkille's own hand, which had been preserved at the monastery, founded
by that saint at Durrogh. " Inter cujus xiiftvXta Evangeliorum codex vetustissimu?
asservabatur, quern ipsius Columbae fuisse monachi dictitabant. Ex quo, et non
minoris antiquitatis altero, eidem Columbse assignato (quern in urbe l&ellfS sive
iaCtlltS dicta Midenses sacrum habent) diligente cum editione vulgata Latina colla-
tione facta, in nostros usus variantium lectionum binos libellos concinnavimus." —
Eccles. Prlmord., 691.

t This Kells manuscript is supposed to have been the same now preserved in the
library of Trinity College, Dublin, on the margin of which, are the following words,
written by O'Flaherty, in the year 1577: — " Liber autem hie scriptus est manu
ipsius B. Columbae." — Moore.

128

EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

among them. Speaking of this conquest, they all bear witness that,
in after times, Ireland should be polluted with many conflicts, long
strifes, and much bloodshed. But they all say, that the English shall
not have a complete victory, till a little before the day of judgment.
That the island of Ireland should be totally subdued from sea to sea,
and curbed in by castles, and though the people of England, by trying
the fate of war, should often happen to be disordered and weakened
(as Brecan testifies, that a certain king should march from the desert
mountains of Patrick, and on Sunday should break into a certain camp
in the woody parts of Ophelan, and almost all the English be drove
out of Ireland), yet by the assertions of the same prophets, they should
continually keep possession of the eastern maritime parts of the
island." This is the account of Cambrensis, written upwards of
500 years ago.

ST. COLUMBANUS.

A. D. 559—615.

THIS illustrious saint and writer was the descendant of a noble
family in the province of Leinster. Of his youth we have no accounts
distinct enough to be relied upon. He is, however, credibly reported to
have been conspicuous for the singular beauty of his person ; and it is
more than hinted by some of his biographers, that he was in consequence
exposed to temptations, which for a time must have rendered it a doubt-
ful matter whether posterity was to be edified by the sanctity, or warned
by the frailties of his subsequent career. Such is the history often of
the most holy men ; as the saint must, in all cases, be more or less the
result of a conquest over human frailty. Fortunately for himself and
the world, the saint prevailed, and the young Columbanus had the
firmness to achieve the greatest triumph which human strength can
win over temptation, by flying from the dangerous field. He tore
himself, doubtless with pain and after many serious conflicts of the
heart, from his father's house, and the temptations by which he was
beset; his youthful pride and passions, "JVihil tarn sanctum religione
(says an ancient author of his life) tamque custodid clausum, quod
penetrare libido nequeat"

From his native province he retired to the monastery of Banchor,
in Ulster, where, under the tuition of Saint Coeingall, he spent a con-
siderable portion of his life in holy meditation and study- Here he
continued to attain experience, patience, firmness, and self-command,
with the knowledge of men and books, which were necessary for the
career for which he was designed, till the mature age of fifty, when
feeling, doubtless, that the time was at length arrived for the useful
application of his attainments, he selected twelve of his companions —
we may safely infer, men of piety and learning — and crossed over to
Gaul, where there was at this period an ample field for the exertions
of holy men.

At this time, the state of Christianity in France had fallen into
the most melancholy depravation. The prelates had nearly forgotten

ST. COLUMBANUS.

129

the common decencies of Christian society, and altogether lost sight
of the dignity and duties of their sacred calling. They had, in com-
mon with their flocks, relapsed into the barbarism of savage life, and
the rudeness of paganism, and were virtually to be reconverted to the
faith which they had solemnly professed. The consequence was, an
abundant growth of superstition, and the decay of the yet imperfectly
established religion of the gospel. Such a state of things held out
an ample field for the work of conversion, and afforded highly
beneficent occupation to the numerous tribes of the monastic orders,
who, whatever may have been their demerits in later times, may, we
think, be recognised as instrumental to the preservation and further-
ance of Christianity, in these perplexed and semi-barbarous periods.

St Columbanus found a spot adapted to the retirement of his taste,
and the sanctity of his purpose, in the gloomy and sequestered forests
of Upper Burgundy, in the neighbourhood of the Alps. Here, in this
savage region, as yet perhaps unpenetrated by the noise and depravity
of life, he had twelve cabins built for himself and his companions,
of whom most, perhaps all, were afterwards to be the missionaries to
other realms. The fame of his eloquence and learning, and of the
sanctity of the company, soon drew the inhabitants in vast crowds
from every quarter, settlements arose in the vicinity, and the saint
was soon enabled to erect the monastery of Luxeuil. Here he
remained about twenty years, during which he acquired great influence
and renown. Some of his historians report, and probably believed,
that he worked divers wonderful works, of which the greater part
seem to have been at the expense of the wild beasts of the surrounding
wilderness, which were subdued by his sanctity, and fled or fell before
his power.

Among the concourse of his followers and disciples, many were of
noble birth, and many possessing ample means and influence. Not a
few of these devoted themselves to the pious pursuits of the monastic
life; and, while they created the necessity, at the same time supplied
the means of extending the institutions of the saint. Another monas-
tery was built in a more select situation, and, from the springs with
which it abounded, received the name of Fontaines.

In the course of a ministration, the immediate duties of which were
such as to imply a continued struggle between the principles of Chris-
tianity and the moral as well as political disorder and misrule of the
age and nation, resistance to wrong armed with power must have been
a consequence in no way to be avoided, unless by an unholy compro-
mise with expediency or fear, and such were little to be found in the
rigid sanctity and firm character of the saint. These virtues found
their fitting exercise from the vice and tyranny of the Burgundian
prince and his vindictive mother, queen Brunehaut. The detail of
the petty collisions between the low arid vindictive pride of barbaric
royalty and the stern sanctity of this primitive reformer, abound with
touches of moral truth which confer the seeming, at least, of authen-
ticity upon the legendary historians of the saint and his times. " They
will be found worthy, however, of a brief passing notice, less as his-
tory than as pictures for the imagination, in which the figure of the
stern but, simple and accomplished missionary stands out to the eye

r. i Ir.

[

130

EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

with the more force and dignity, from the barbaric glare and pomp of
the scenes and personages round him."

" Thus, on one occasion when the queen dowager, seeing him enter
the royal courts, brought forth the four illegitimate children of king
Thierry to meet him, the saint emphatically demanded what they
wanted. ' They are the king's children,' answered Brunehaut, 'and
are come to ask your blessing.' ' These children,' replied Colum-
banus, ' will never reign, they are the offspring of debauchery.' Such
insulting opposition to her designs for her grand-children roused all
the rage of this Jezebel, and orders were issued for withdrawing some
privileges which the saint's monasteries had hitherto enjoyed. For
the purpose of remonstrating against this wrong he sought the palace
of the king ; and, while waiting the royal audience, rich viands and
wines were served up for his refreshment. But the saint sternly re-
fused to partake of them, saying. ' It is written, the Most High rejects
the gifts of the impious; nor is it fitting that the mouths of the ser-
vants of God should be defiled with the viands of one who inflicts on
them such indignities.' "'

Another scene, described by the picturesque pen of the same agree-
able writer, we must abridge for our purpose. One of the regulations
which met with the censure and resistance of the court, was that
which restricted the access to the interior of the monastery. The in-
vidious feeling thus excited was seized on by the watchful malice of
queen Brunehaut, as an instrument of persecution. For this purpose
she instigated an attempt to put to the proof the monastery's right.
King Thierry, followed by a numerous and gorgeous train of his
courtiers and nobles, approached its gates. As they rudely forced
their way, the saint, surprised by the noise of unhallowed and disre-
spectful violence, came forth, and, as they had gained the door of the
refectory, stood before them in the way. The king, still forcing in,
addressed him, " If you desire to derive any benefit from our bounty,
these places must be thrown open to every comer." The singular gra-
vity and dignity of Columbanus's form and aspect are authentic facts of
history; and when these are recollected, it may enable the reader to
conceive the full effect which Mr Moore ascribes to the following em-
phatic answer of the saint to the intruding king : — " If you endeavour
to violate the discipline here established, know that I dispense with
your presents, and with every aid that it is in your power to lend;
and if you now come hither to disturb the monasteries of the servants
of God, I tell you that your kingdom shall be destroyed, and with it
all your royal race." The king was terrified, and withdrew with his
astonished train.

The consequence was, however, such as to fulfil the immediate de-
sign of the vindictive Brunehaut. It was intimated to the saint, that
as his system was unsuited to the place, it was fit he should leave it.
Mr Moore, on this occasion, cites a speech attributed to king Thierry
which, as he justly observes, " betrays no want either of tolerance, or of
the good sense from which that virtue springs." " I perceive you hope,"
said Thierry, "that I shall give you the crown of martyrdom; but I

* Moore'i Ireland, i. 261.

ST. COLUMBANTJS.

am not so unwise as to commit so heinous a crime. As your system,
however, differs from that of all other times, it is but right that you
should return to the place from whence you came." The saint refused
to submit to any compulsion short of armed force, and accordingly a
party of soldiers were detached to his retreat. None but his country-
men and a few British monks were allowed to follow him : they were
conducted by an armed party on their way to Ireland. It was on their
arrival at Auxerre that Columbanus gave utterance to a prediction,
which was shortly accomplished, — " Remember what I now tell you ;
that very Clothaire whom ye now despise will, in three years' time, be
your master."

Accident prevented the destination which would have interrupted
the allotted labour of the missionary saint, and converted the malice
of his enemies into the means of extending the scope of his piety
and exertion. He was left at liberty to choose his course, and visited
the courts of Clothaire and Theodebert,

Both of these kings received him kindly, but he soon had won the
confidence of Clothaire ; nor is it improbable, that the judicious advice
of the counsellor contributed to fulfil the prediction of the saint. He
now engaged in an active course of missionary exertion, in which he
visited many places in France and Germany, after which his course
was determined, by the reports which he was continually hearing of
the growing power of his enemies in Tranche Compte. To remove
himself more completely from their malice, he resolved to pass into
Italy.

In Italy, his uncompromising vigour of character had fresh
occasion for display. The controversies of the last century were still ip
their full vigour. After the decrees of councils, and the angry or
interested interferences of popes and emperors, the dispute upon the
Three Chapters, decided by the condemnation of the writings so called
in the council of Constantinople, A. D. 553, still had in its embers heat
enough to warm the zeal of another generation in the next century.
The pious Theudelinda, queen of the Lombards, with the zeal and
perhaps the indiscretion of a recent proselyte, had given offence to
the see of Rome, by her protection of the bishops who obstinately
held out in schism against this decision of a council. It is supposed
that the Lombard court were drawn from their error by the judicious
and moderate persuasion of Gregory; but however this may have
been, it more certainly appears, that on the arrival of St Columbanus,
the Lombards had again fallen back into the same heretical opinions.
King Agilulph was the first of the Lombard kings who had embraced
Christianity, and his queen had become eminent for her active exer-
tions in its cause. By her advice he had hitherto been led to the
expenditure of large sums, in the building and endowment of monas-
teries ; and it is therefore easily understood, how attractive must a
court, thus illustrated by pious and charitable zeal, have been to the
wandering steps of the saint.

The sentiments of St Columbanus were, fortunately for this new
alliance, in conformity with those of the royal schismatics. By the
desire of Agilulph, he addressed a letter of considerable vigour and
spirit to Boniface IV., who was at this time bishop of Rome, and the

132 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

first who held that dignity, which is now comprised in the papacy.
In this letter he maintains the views of the schismatics, or opponents
to the decision of the 5th General Council, and treats Boniface with
very little ceremony.

This eminent Christian is said to be the author of many writings
yet extant; but of the greater part of these, the genuineness is very
uncertain. Among these, a poem, which on the competent testimony
of Mr Moore may be described as " of no inconsiderable merit," seems
to intimate the great age to which he lived.

" Hsec tibi dictaram morbis oppressus acerbis
Corpora quos fragili patior, tristique senecta."

But the date of his death leads to another inference. Worn with
the labours, controversies, persecutions, and wanderings of a long life,
spent in the service of Christ and the enlightening of a barbarous
age, he received permission from king Agilulph to select a retirement
in his dominions. Retiring to a secluded spot among the Apennines,
he founded the monastery of Bobio, in which he passed the remaining
interval of his old age, and died on the 21st November, 615, in the
56th year of his age.

BRIDGET.
A. D. 510.

THIS eminent person is said to have been born in 439. Her father's
name was Dubtacus. The antiquarian writers differ as to his rank.
Bale calls him a nobleman, the Book of Howth a captain of Leinster :
both may possibly be correct, and the point is of no importance. Her
mother appears to have been a person of less respectability : she held
some servile office in the house of Dubtach, and having an attractive
person, as the story runs, the wife of Dub soon found reasonable occasion
for jealousy, and caused her to be sent away. Dubtach, anxious to save
the unfortunate victim of his crime, delivered her in charge to a bard.
The bard fulfilled his trust with due fidelity, and, when the infant
Bridget was born, continued his zealous service by watching over her
growth and instructing her early years with parental care. She was
thus instructed, as she grew, in all the knowledge of the age; her
talent excelled her acquisitions, and she soon obtained a far extending
reputation. This was yet increased by the sanctity of her life, and
the singular weight and wisdom of her opinions. Her sayings, in an
age when the learned were but few, obtained extensive circulation,
and from being repeated and admired, soon became in high request.
Her advice on weighty occasions began to be sought by the ecclesiastics
of her day, and on one occasion is said to have been alleged as
authoritative in a synod held in Dublin.

BRIDGET. 133

The various acts of her life, as collected by numerous biographers,
are not, in general, such as we can consistently with our plan offer
here, though we do not doubt the foundation of most of them in fact,
yet they are too inseparably interwoven with monstrous inventions, to
be reduced to reality.

She became a nun, and built herself a celle under a goodly oak.
This was after increased into a monastery for virgins, and from the
original cell, called Cyldara, " the cell of the oak." As her memory
obtains its chief interest from this institution, the reader will be
gratified by the following extract from Harris's Ware : — •

" The church of Kildare is for the most part in ruins, yet the walls
are still standing, together with the south side of the steeple, and the
walls of the nave, which is adorned to the south with six gothic
arches, and as many buttresses. The north side of the steeple is level
with the ground, and is said to have been beaten down by a battery
planted against it during the rebellion in 1641. The choir, where
divine service is used, had nothing worth notice in it, except a large
gothic window, much decayed, which the chapter have lately taken
down, and in the room have erected a modern Venetian window. The
south wing, which was formerly a chapel, is in ruins, and in it lie two
large stones, in alto-relievo, curiously carved. One represents a bishop
in his robes, a pastoral staff in his right hand, and a mitre on his head,
supported by two monkeys, with several other decorations, but being
without inscription, it leaves only room for conjecture, that it was
erected for Edmund Lane, bishop of Kildare, who was buried here
in 1522. The other is the monument of Sir Maurice Fitzgerald, of
Lackah, curiously cut in armour, with an inscription round the stone,
and upon the right side of it are five escutcheons, differently emblaz-
oned. Ralph of Bristol, bishop of Kildare, was at no small charge in
repairing and adorning the cathedral, and was the first Englishman who
sat in this see. He died in 1 232. It again fell into decay in the reign
of king Henry the VII., and was repaired by the above mentioned
Edmund Lane. At thirty yards' distance from the west end of the
church, stands an handsome round tower, adorned with a battlement;
it is full forty-four yards high, and at the same distance from the tower,
an ancient pedestal of rough unhewn stone remains, on which formerly
stood a cross, the top of which now lieth in the church-yard, but the
shaft is converted into a step leading to the communion table. Not
far from the round tower is to be seen an old building called the
Fire-House, where the inextinguishable fire was formerly kept by the
nuns of St Bridget, of which an account may be seen in the Antiquities
of Ireland. Among the suffragan bishops of Ireland, as the bishop
of Meath in councils and elsewhere had the precedence, so the bishop
of Kildare claimed the second place, the rest taking their seats
according to the dates of their ordinations. This practice obtained
in several parliaments, viz., in those of the 27th of queen Elizabeth,
and 1 1 th of James the First. It was controverted before the privy
council, March 15th, 1639. But the lords, justices, and council did
not think proper to adjudge the right, in regard the parliament was
to assemble the day following, and that they had not time to enter
into the merits on either side. Yet to avoid the scandal and disturb-

134 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

ance which might arise from a contention in the house, they made an
interim order, ' that the bishop of Kildare, without prejudice to the
rights of the other bishops, should be continued in the possession of
precedence, next after the bishop of Meath, and before all other bishops,
although consecrated before him; and that he should take place
accordingly, until the same be evicted from him, upon the discussion
of the right.' The bishops of Kildare, since the Reformation, have
been for the most part of the privy council, and for some successions
past have held the deanery of Christ-church, with this see in com-
mendam. In a return made to a regal commission, A. D. 1622, by
bishop Pilsworth, it is said, that by the ancient rolls of the bishoprick,
it appeared, that there were seventy-three parishes in the diocese of
Kildare. The constitution of the chapter is singular. It consists of
four dignitaries, and four canons, viz., dean, chantor, chancellor, and
treasurer. The four canons have no titles from any place, but are
named, 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th canon. There are also in this diocese an
archdeacon, and eight prebendaries, who are called prebendaries ad
extra. The archdeacon is no member of the chapter, but hath a stall
in the choir, and a voice in the election of a dean only, and so have
the eight prebendaries ad extra. Each of the dignitaries or canons
are capable of holding any of the prebends ad extra, but as such have
only one voice in the election of a dean. The prebendaries ad extra
take their designations from these places, viz., 1 . Geajhil ; 2. Rathan-
gan; 3. Harristown; 4. Nurney; 5. Ballysonan; 6. Donadea; 7. Lul-
liamore; 8. Castropeter." *

" In this place," says Stanihurst, " Ibique maxima civitas, postea in
honore beatissimae Brigidce erexit quce est hodie metropolis Lageni-
ensium."

The succession of bishops in the see of Kildare is thus given by
the last writer, " Conlianus, Long, Ivar, Colnic, Donatus, David," &c.

Bridget was extensively known and revered in her lifetime, through
the different nations which then composed the population of the British
isles. A Harmony of the Gospels, written by St Jerome, was copied
at her desire in letters of gold. This Boetius mentions as having
seen it ; and Stanihurst says, it was preserved, " as a monument," at
Kildare. Bridget died about 510. She is said to have been buried in
lona, but afterwards, with Columbkille, taken up and transferred to
the tomb of Patrick. Of this the following legend is preserved : —

" Hi tres in Duno tumulo tumulantur in uno
Brigida, Patricius, atque Columba pius."

Among the early notices of her life, Colgan has collected and pub-
lished, together, the following: —

A hymn by St Brogan, on her virtues and miracles, " Tempore vero
Lugaidu Leogairo, Rege nati, &c., compositus." Much, however, of
this poem seems to be the production of a later state of theology.

The second is a life by Cogitosus, and supposed to have been
written before the year 594. One sentence of this seems to imply an
early date, in which this island is named, " Scotorum terra." A third

* Harris's Ware.

SCOTUS— ERIGENA. 135

by St. Ultan, was obtained from an old MS. in the monastery of St.
Magnus, at Ratisbon. It is fuller than either of the former. A fourth,
written in the 10th century, by Animosus or Animchod, a bishop of
Kildare, is published from a defective MS., but, as might be expected
from the more recent date, is more full on the marvellous particulars of
Bridget's life than any of his predecessors. Two more, one in prose,
by " Laurentio Dunelmensi ; " and another in verse by St. Ccelun, of the
monastery of Iniskeltein, complete the collection.

Moore has in some degree given popularity to Bridget's memory by
his allusion to an ancient legend connected with her name, in a ballad
known to most persons of refined taste, set to the pathetic old national
air ' Shamama Hulla.'

" Like the bright lamp that lay in Kildare's holy shrine,
And burned through long ages of darkness and storm,
Is the heart that sorrows have frowned on in vain,
Whose spirit survives them, unfading and warm."
Erin, oh Erin ! thus bright through the tears
Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears.

The nations have fallen, but thou still art young,

Thy sun is but rising when others are set,

And though slavery's cloud on thy morning hath hung.

The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet.
Erin, oh Erin ! though long in the shade,
Thy star will shine out when the proudest shall fade.*

SCOTUS — ERIGENA.

IN the 9th century, there existed a deep-seated disorder through-
out the constitution of the social state. Learning, religion, and morals,
were depraved to a state nearly touching upon the dark limit of
ignorance, superstition, and barbarism. The just, simple, and
practical truths of the gospel were, with the book which is their
authorized testimony, rendered obsolete amidst the obscure refinements
by which its doctrines had been corrupted. Science was suppressed
by the blindfold timidity of ecclesiastical ignorance; and reason,
fatal to a system based on fraud and sophistry, was subtilized
away into a safe game of words. The sound-minded reason, senti-
ment, and feeling, of the earlier writers of Rome and Greece were
lost, with their pure, graceful, and correct style of language. The
secular portion of society, absorbed in the business and waste of war,
was buried in the most gross and abject ignorance, which was enlight-
ened by no glimmering beam of knowledge, and knew no higher or
purer aim than fame in arms, and state and luxury in peace. Ignor-
ance had ceased to be a reproach among ecclesiastics; for a little

* " Apud Kildarium occurrit ignis Sanctae Bridgidse, quern inextinguibilem
vocant ; non quod extingui non possit, sed quod tarn solicite meniales et sanctse
mulieres, ignem suppetente materia, fovent et nutriunt, ut a tempore virgin is
per tot annorum curricula semper mansit inextinctus. " — Oirald Cambrensis, De
Mirald ffibernice, Dist. 2, c. 24.

This fire was extinguished A. D. 1220, by Henry de Londres, Archbishop of
Dublin.

136 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

knowledge was enough tor the commerce between superstition and
ignorance, and more than a little dangerous to its professor, and more
dangerous still to the system to which he belonged.

But there is no state short of the lowest barbarism, in which the
powers and faculties of th,e intellect will not rise to the utmost limit
of their confinement: debarred from truth, error itself will offer no
small or narrow scope to the ingenuity that can defend it: reason,
habitually employed either in maintaining falsehood or in devising
riddles for itself, must needs change its character with its essential
end, and find in mere subtilty, a sufficient scope for its irrepressible
powers. This however is but half the process which gave its form
to the scholastic theology : the corruption of the moral sense, and the
sophistication of the judgment, are among the consequences of habitual
abuse ; and a driftlessness of aim and result adapted to bring learning
into merited contempt with the practical common sense of the illiterate,
completed a state of intellectual darkness, not easily conceived without
much consideration of these causes, joined with others, to be found in the
political state of the time. While learning was supprest and corrupted
by a peculiar system, among the ecclesiastical body, none but ecclesi-
astics had the power to cultivate it. The disruption of an ancient
empire yet continued to roll the waves of revolution over the world.
And a state of confusion and disorder, such as admits of no compari-
son with any thing that has since occurred to disturb the repose of
states, made property and personal safety too insecure for the cultiva-
tion of learning, unless within the sanctuary of the cloister and the cell.

Such is a summary sketch of the intellectual state of the con-
tinent, when Charles the Bald ascended the throne of France, and by
his love of knowledge, and encouragement of its professors, made his
court and table a centre of attraction for the better intellects of his
age. Among the most eminent for extensive knowledge and pleasing
conversation, whom the sagacity and taste of Charles distinguished by
peculiar favour, the Irish scholar, John Erigena, was the first; the
same keen and subtle invention and adroitness, which placed him at
the head of the disputants of his controversial period, gave ready tact,
quick discernment, and facile point in conversation, and he so won on
the monarch, that he became his constant companion, was a frequent
guest at the royal table and admitted to the privileges of friendship,
and placed at the head of the university of Paris.

Amongst the eminent scholars who cultivated the Greek and
Roman literature, Scotus may be classed high. By his great repu-
tation as a scholar, and as a master of dialectics, he was naturally
led into all or most of the prevalent speculations and controversies
of the day in which he lived. It was a time, when all of religion
that was not superstition, was the dry and barren chaff of dia-
lectics; and when philosophy had no existence but in its theological
abuse. Scotus was, by his royal patron, induced to take part in
the controversy concerning the Eucharist. This controversy may
be briefly described, as the same which now exists between the
churches of England and Rome, of which latter church, the doctrine
was for the first time distinctly asserted in an essay by Radbert, abbot,
of forbey, which at once set the theological seminaries in a blaze of

SCOTUS. 137

controversial conflict. Charles ordered Ratramur and Scotus to com-
pose a clear view of the doctrine. The work of Scotus, now lost, took
the same view as the reformed English church ; Ratramur pretty much
the same.

Another controversy arose, in the meantime, on the subject of pre-
destination and divine grace, in which the depths of God's counsels
and the mystery of his nature were audaciously sounded by the
shallow line of human knowledge and reason. The well known tenets
which are designated from the name of Calvin, were promulgated by
Godescalchus, and drew opposition from many, among whom Scotus
was the most distinguished. But the great distinction to which he
owes his place in literature, is that of his philosophy. A distinguished
expositor of the philosophy called Aristotelian, in his age, he had the
boldness to give free scope to original speculation, and to erect a
system of his own.

This temper received its direction from circumstances. From the
earliest records of philosophy in the East, the idea of a mystical union
of the spirit of man with the universal spirit by contemplation and
ideal absorption, appears to have been in some form a tenet of doctrine,
or a practical habit of devotion. It was indeed a natural effect easily
traceable to temperament, and likely to be one of the diseases and
gratifications of the solitary or ascetic state. Early in the first age
of the church, this solitary species of fanaticism was communicated to
a Christian sect, who received it from its native climate among the
ascetic deserts of Egypt and Thebais. But a moral intoxication which
can be reconciled with the conscience of the cloistered cell, must be a
happy relief against the languor of its sad and colourless monotony,
and the dreams of mysticism were never quite supprest in these dark
ages of the church's slumber. The effect of a philosophical system
adapted to the scholastic method, and favouring this peculiar tendency
could not fail to produce a vast influence on philosophy and theology,
which at the period cannot well be said to have a separate existence.

In this state of things, the Greek emperor sent over, as a present
to Lewis the Meek, some works of mystical theology, which had long
been highly popular in the Eastern church. Of their tendency the
reader may judge from their titles. On the Celestial Monarchy ;
On the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy ; On Divine Names; On Mystical
Theology. These treatises received additional value from the reputa-
tion of their pretended author, Dionysius the Areopagite, who, under
the familiar name St Denis, was believed to be the first Christian
teacher as he was the patron saint of France. Charles was ignorant of
the Greek language, and therefore sought a translation. It is said that
an ill-executed and unfaithful translation of some of these writings had
already circulated among the schools, and attracted the attention of
studious persons. However this may have been, Scotus was applied to
by the king and undertook the task. The translation of Scotus pro-
ceeded, and in its progress, the alteration in his philosophy became not
only apparent but influential on his hearers. In executing his task he
became enamoured with a system, in the transcendental altitudes and
depths of which the reach of his subtilty, and the boldness of his
fancy could range unquestioned above the dull track of common notions.

138 EARLY IRISH CHRISTIANS.

Seizing on this vast scope he began by reconciling it with the scholas-
tic philosophy, of which he was the unrivalled master, and explaining
the one so as to combine with the other, he quickly infused a new
spirit into the philosophy of the age. Between the dry subtilty of
terms and logical forms, which were thoroughly separated from ideas
or things, and conceptions equally remote, though in an opposite direc-
tion from the experience of realities, there was a nearer affinity than
will at first be allowed: though opposed both in spirit and form, and
exercising faculties altogether distinct, yet they had in common the
arbitrary nature, which admits of indefinite accommodation. The strict
law of modern science, the principle of which is definition, and its
foundation the reality of things, was unthought of, and its absence left
an obvious arena clear for the union between the science of arbitrary
terms, and the fantasies of imagination. The translation of Scotus
was eagerly received, and laid the foundation of the theological con-
troversies of the following three centuries. On the fortune of Scotus
the result was less favourable. The translation was in many respects
at variance with the dogmas of the Western theology, and the book
was published without the licence of the Roman see. Nicholas the
First applied, by a menacing letter, to Charles, who dared not openly
defy the pontifical requisition, to send the book with its author to Rome.
Scotus decided the perplexity by withdrawing himself from Paris.

Such is a brief view of the character of the Alexandrian philosophy,
and of its introduction into the Western church. The corruptions
which, under various forms, it from the beginning diffused into the
spirit and substance of Christianity, were but too consistently followed
up by the evils it effected during the long continuance of the dark
period under our notice: evils far indeed from having ceased in our
own times though wearing a different form. But on this we must
observe the rule of abstinence from modern disputes, which, with some
inevitable exceptions, we have adopted. Of the place of Erigena's
retreat, there is some inconsistency among the scanty notices which
are extant. The error caused by the term " Scotus," expressive of his
native country — which in the course of after ages changed its local
application — appears to have been in part the cause of this difficulty.

About the period of his death, we cannot but feel much doubt as to the
representation of Ware, which seems to make it immediate on his retreat;
a later work distinguished among the writings of the age, having evi-
dently been the result of his studies of the mystical theology, we mean his
book on the division of nature — " five books of John Scotus Erigena,
long wanted, on the division of nature."* This work, in which infer-
ences are drawn by a subtle play on the changes of words in proposi-
tions without real meaning, has, in the specimens which we have been
able to find, a curious similitude to the a priori school of the last cen-
tury; in which premises which, with equal facility, lead to opposite
conclusions, formed the subtle links of reasonings on the most impor-
tant subjects. His argument to prove the eternity of the world, will
illustrate this to the reader who is versed in the dialectics of Edwards,
or still more of Clarke, whose subject and material is the same, and

* Joanni Scoti Erigense de Divisione Naturae, libri quinque, diu desiderati.

TURGESIUS.

139

his inferences, in the instance we shall offer, opposite. " Nothing," says
Scotus, " can be an accident with respect to God; consequently, it was
not an accident with respect to him to frame the world: therefore God
did not exist before he created the world; for if he had, it would have
happened to him to create ; that is, creation would have been an
accident of the divine nature. God therefore precedes the world not
in the order of time, but of causality. The cause always was, and is, and
will be; and therefore the effect has always subsisted, doth subsist, and
will subsist; that is, the universe is eternal with* its cause." From
this, the inference was not remote, that God is the universe, and the
universe God. If the reader will take the trouble to observe, that the
real ground of the above argumentative quibble might be resolved into
a disjunctive proposition, stating— Every thing must exist by accident
or necessity ;— he will have the same argument reduced into the lan-
guage of Clarke's demonstration, of which the foundation is the same
impossible conception of necessary existence.

MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

A. D. 815—1177.
TURGESIUS.

A. D. 815 — DIED A. D. «44.

OP Turgesius, before his landing on the Irish coast, nothing can be
told on any probable authority ; and even as to the date of this, there
are some differences, f According to the most sanctioned authorities,
we may place the event some time in the year 815, when he came from
Norway with a large fleet and a formidable army. This crafty chief
had further views than his adventurous fellow-countrymen had hitherto
entertained, and he did not enter on his plans without having, like a
prudent and wary leader, taken all due precautions to ensure success.
It was now become an enterprise of much increased risk, to attack a
nation which, from frequent experience of the calamitous nature of

* Mistranslated "in," which conveys an ambiguous sense.

t The frivolous questions as to his being the same with Gurmundus, or
different, we omit, as having no interest, unless for those who are likely to
be conversant with our authorities. It is to be regretted that the old writers,
who are prolix on such (juestions, are at the same time so defective in more essen-
tial respects.

140

MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

such attacks, had at length been taught the necessity of a more concen-
trated resistance. A successful effort of this nature was undoubtedly,
at the period, beyond their state of military knowledge, and still more,
beyond their capability of concerted movements. Division was the
main source of their weakness, and with this was combined that beset-
ting infirmity of the Celtic nature, the fatal proneness to betray.

Turgesius, aware of the weak points of the nation, readily contrived
to secure the co-operation of some of the most powerful of the native
chiefs ; and it was probably by their aid and guidance that, without
being compelled to betray his purpose by any decisive encounter, he
contrived to secure possession of many strong positions, in which he
was unhappily suffered to establish settlements, with such fortifications
as the science of the time afforded. Some mention occurs of a battle
which he gained against Edmundlius, or Felim M'Edmond, and others
of a defeat sustained from Feidlim, king of Cashel. The fact is, how-
ever, unimportant, as it is uncertain. It is probable that he gained
advantages and suffered reverses in action; but it is known that he
obtained eventual success. Having divided his fleet and army, for the
purpose of striking sudden terror by constant surprises and simultan-
eous attacks in different quarters, it is probable that the collisions
were slight and partial, which the native annalist might have magni-
fied into battles won or lost. But it is probable that his progress
had in it the uniformity of progress which must have attended the
systematic direction of a powerful force, against an unregulated and
tumultuary resistance.

His followers were indulged in all the license which, in these rude
times, and by that piratical nation, were held as the soldier's right ; and
the evils they inflicted can only be conceived by those who have atten-
tively read the history of the buccaneers in America; or realized, by
meditation, that horrible interval of human woe, when the Roman
world was swept by the locust march of the Goths.

The Danes, who had already obtained settlements by the incidents
of a long-continued communication, now flocked in, and powerfully
reinforced the army of Turgesius, and he was quickly enabled to seize
on Armagh, where he established his seat of power, and occupied the
lands of the clergy, whom he ejected from the province.

His views now expanded with his power, and he saw that the mon-
archy lay within an easy grasp. The northern adventurers who,
lured by his success, thought to follow his example, he was enabled to
repel. The native chiefs, although unable to look beyond the narrow
scope of their private feuds and animosities, had no actual perception
of the real dangers which menaced them, till it was too late. The
struggle was, however, protracted through a long and fearful interval
of horror and desolation. Although incapable of steadfast purpose and
concerted action, the chiefs of the country were as little capable of
unreserved submission: ready to assume the tone of humble sub-
mission when resistance became impracticable, they cherished indi-
vidually the will to resist the claim of tyranny when it approached
them in their respective seats of authority. In addition to the calls
of self-interest, and the impulses of barbaric pride, they were subject
also to the more regulated influence of their clergy. In the church

TURGESIUS.

141

lay the chief cause of this protracted struggle. The Irish people
would probably have early submitted to a tyranny which they could
not shake off", but it was a part of the usurper's plan to root Christi-
anity from the land. The persecution of the clergy thus produced a
protracted but desultory resistance, which ended in that species of
compromise which is the result of time and experience, rather than of
formal compact; and at length, after a fierce persecution of thirty
years, Turgesius was proclaimed monarch of Ireland.

In the course of this long struggle for power, the prominent inci-
dents were the sufferings of ecclesiastical persons and places. The
monastery of Banchor, before attacked and plundered by these barba-
rians, was again the scene of their mingled rapacity and cruelty. The
Annals of Munster and of the Four Masters, state, that on this latter
occasion, the abbot and 900 monks were all murdered in one day. Mr
Moore's history supplies us with an expressive enumeration of these and
similar horrors — " Wherever pilgrims in great numbers resorted, thither
the love at once of slaughter and plunder led these barbarians to pur-
sue them. The monastery of the English at Mayo; the holy isle of
Iniscathy in the mouth of the Shannon ; the cells of St Kevin in the
valley of Glendalogh ; the church of Slane, the memorable spot where
St Patrick first lighted the Paschal fire ; the monastery of the Helig
isles, on the coast of Kerry, a site of the ancient well-worship; all
these, and a number of other such seats of holiness, are mentioned as
constantly being made the scenes of the most ruthless devastation."
These atrocities were, as the reader may have already seen, swelled in
their amount and aggravated by the continued force of ill example on
the native chiefs, who, while they followed the track of the destroyer,
with a purpose as destructive and less excusable than his own, are
probably to be looked on as indications of the diminished hostility
which his character and crimes must have, for a long time, opposed to
his recognition as king.

But in the absence of distinct details, we need not further labour
to give distinctness to our portrait, and to fix the shadowy horror of
the tyrant's features. His government, as king, was but another
frightful phase of his character as an enemy. Oppressions and extor-
tions assumed a rougher and sterner form from the license of autho-
rity ; and the insolent exactions of Norwegian officials were added to
the relentless demands of authorized extortion. The religious houses
found no longer even that shadow of a hope which resistance imparts ;
schools and monasteries wrent, by one compendious mandate, unresist-
ingly to the ground; and their inhabitants were turned out to seek a
refuge in foreign countries, or in a poverty which had nothing to
attract the spoiler.

The effect of this was such as might have been anticipated from
human nature. They who would have submitted to the foreign usurper,
found no rest or safety in their abasement ; and a strong sense of ani-
mosity against the tyrant gradually began to diffuse itself from mind
to mind. The attempt at open resistance was not to be thought of,
but an occasion arose by which O'Meloghlin, prince of Meath, con-
trived to seize his person.

142 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

Giraldus, and after him Ilanmer and other historians, relate a story
of the manner of the death of this tyrant, which is not noticed by any
of the ancient annalists, and yet, from its circumstantial detail, is
hardly to be attributed to mere invention. It has at least the merit
of being in strict keeping with the age and the character of the agents ;
and may have been omitted by the annalists, from a sense that, how-
ever just may have been the tyrant's fate, the manner of it does not,
in the highest degree, reflect honour on the illustrious O'Meloghlin ;
and, it may be added, that there is an evidently studied reserve in the
early writers on all transactions in which the Danes were in any way
parties. Gordon, Mr Moore, Leland, and Dr O'Conor, concur in
treating it as fable ; but, true or false, we may not omit it here.

In the thirtieth year of his residence in Ireland, Turgesius con-
ceived a dishonourable passion for the daughter of O'Meloghlin, king
of Meath, and, being deterred by no consideration either of decency
or respect, offered the most insulting and offensive proposals to the
royal father of the princess. Such was the abject state of subjection
to which the native kings were reduced, that the outraged father
could not, without the utmost peril, refuse ; and resistance was hope-
less. In this hapless condition, the humiliation of which may well
account for the silence of the annals, the heroic O'Meloghlin had re-
course to a 'stratagem, "resembling," as Mr Moore observes, "in
some of its particulars, a stratagem recorded by Plutarch in his
life of Pelopidas." He replied to the insulting proposal, " Appoint
the day, the hour, and the place, and sequester yourself from your
court and retinue, and I will send my daughter unto you, with twelve
or sixteen gentlewomen, of the choice and beautifullest maidens of my
country, and take your choice of them; if my daughter please you
best, she is at your command." The appointed hour drew on, and the
tyrant, fired with guilty expectations, betook himself to the place of
assignation. O'Meloghlin caused the princess to be splendidly attired,
and sent her with sixteen young men, disguised as maidens, and having
each a long knife under his mantle. The bloody tragedy was not long
in acting. Turgesius had scarcely time to insult the princess with the
first expression of his revolting love, when the fatal circle of avengers
was drawn close around him, and, ere his astonishment and terror
could find vent, the knives of the sixteen were contending in his breast.

In this story there is nothing improbable ; the scheme is simple,
and, in some measure, such as the circumstances may have suggested.
There is, also, in addition to the reason already mentioned, this
consideration: enough is mentioned by the annalists to warrant the
inference of more. The tyrant who had for thirty years held the
minds of the Irish nation in the bonds of hate and terror, could not
have been surprised by craft, and slain, without some more espe-
cial note of the manner of his death, than that he fell into the hands
of O'Meloghlin, and was by him drowned in Lochvar. The truth may
probably be a combination of the particulars of both accounts. He may
have been seized by the youths and drowned by the monarch ; but as
there was, at the moment, no war, or no ordinary circumstances which
might have led to his capture in the field, some stratagem must have

THE MONAECH O'MELOGHLIK

143

been employed to obtain possession of him, and such must either have
been most diligently concealed, or, as in all such incidents, have made
the chief part of the story.

Whatever be the true account of the death of Turgesius, the results
were important. The ascendancy of the Danes was thenceforward
lightened ; and from that period, as an ancient annalist observes, " tho
Irish began to conquer."

THE MONARCH O'MELOGHLIN.

DIED A.D. 863.

THE best authority places the event of the death of Turgesius in
844,* but it was not for about four years later that O'Meloghlin was
raised to the monarchy.

A circumstance which seems to add some credit to the romance re-
lated above, is the circumstance (if truly affirmed) that he had pre-
viously lived on terms of great favour with Turgesius. It is men-
tioned, as an incident of his previous life, that once, in conversation,
he familiarly asked of the tyrant, " by what means certain ravenous
and pestiferous birds, which greatly infested the country, might be
destroyed ?" Turgesius replied, " If they breed, destroy their eggs,
birds, and nests," — a policy which, it is said, O'Meloghlin thencefor-
ward designed to observe towards the Norwegians.

On the death of Turgesius, it is said, O'Meloghlin immediately sent
out his messengers in every direction, to give notice of the event, and
to rouse the chiefs to take arms. The Norwegians, sustained chiefly
by the energy and political talent of their ruler, had neither union,
council, firmness, nor foresight, to meet the exigency of the moment. •
They stood undecided, and were taken by surprise. The Irish had
been some time prepared, and on the intelligence, Meath and Leinster
were at once in arms; the chiefs from every quarter repaired to
O'Meloghlin, who soon found himself at the head of a numerous army.
The results appear to have been decisive ; but the brevity of the an-
nalists does not afford us the means of describing the battles by which
the strangers were now reduced to the lowest state of depression, and
either driven from the land, or subjected to the authority of its native
chiefs. There cannot be any reasonable doubt of the decided advan-
tages which were thus obtained, but there can be as little that they are
vastly over-stated by the annalists, whose accounts are uniformly at
variance with the course of events as inferred even from themselves.
The account of Giraldus, from whatever sources it is drawn, has in it
some touches peculiarly characteristic of the actors: " Fama igitur
pernicibus alls, totam statim insulam pervolante, et rei eventum, ut
assolet, divulgante ; Norwagienses ubique truncantur ; et in brevi omni
omnino, seu vi, seu dolo, vel morti traduntur, vel iterum Norwagium et
insulas unde venerant, navigio adire compelluntur." A series of mas-
sacres and well-concerted surprises, were probably rendered decisive by

* The time of these events is involved in doubt, &c. Moore, ii. 33.

144 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

victories won by the conduct of O'Meloghlin. He soon after obtained
the monarchical crown, and sent messengers to the French court to
announce his triumph and his accession. He also announced his pur-
pose of a visit to Rome as an act of thanksgiving, and desired a free
passage through the French territory. The ambassadors were charged
with costly gifts to the king of France ; and, as Mr Moore has judiciously
observed, the high reputation of Irish learning and piety sustained at
this period by the constant resort of Irish missionaries, as well as by the
reputation of John Erigena, in the French court, must have conciliated
for Irishmen the good-will of both the king and people. The design
of O'Meloghlin to visit Borne was hardly in his power. The Nor-
wegians were scattered and disorganized, but not in reality subdued.
They wanted but concentration and a head, to regain their wonted
place in the field as harassing and formidable foes. Three days' sail
intervened between them and the Baltic shores, which still teemed
with unexhausted swarms of fierce adventurers.

In 849? a fleet of one hundred and sixty sail* landed a strong rein-
forcement from the northern coasts ; and the Danes, who had for some
time been struggling, under the appearance of commercial views, to
regain a difficult footing, were enabled to assume a sterner front. A
tedious and destructive, but indecisive warfare set in, and during its
course, some important changes took place in the mutual feelings and
relative positions of the parties ; the result of which was to enable the
Danes, who generally acted on wider views, to attain considerable
advantages.

The native chiefs, acting ever under the impulse of the most recent
impressions, and ever ready to start aside from the more remote objects
of common interest at the slightest call of private passion, soon fell
away from the public cause, into their wonted tenor of petty dissen-
sion. The Danes, always on the alert for every advantage, soon found
means to insinuate themselves into the game of strife, and thus obtain,
unobserved, the secure footing of alliance with the strongest. The
conventions of party, which, even in this advanced age, and in minds
elevated by knowledge and talent, hold an ascendancy exclusive of
higher and more general principle, may then be supposed to have bound,
with an iron force, the uncivilized breasts of the barbarian chiefs of
the day. Occupied with the engrossing concerns and small expedien-
cies which affected the narrow circle of their immediate relations, the
chiefs saw nothing further, but felt that, while they were individually
at liberty to wield their small privileges of oppression and mutual
strife, the nation was free: it was all the prosperity they could com-
prehend !

This evil practice was sanctioned by O'Meloghlin, who availed him-
self of the ready arms of these northern settlers to retain his station
against the encroachments of rival chiefs. The character of the
foreigners had, in the course of time, assumed a more civilized form.
From pirates, they were now fast settling into traders ; by craft, as by
the neglect of the natives — quite ignorant of the importance of these
positions of advantage for commerce and strength — they had secured

* Ware, Ant. c. 24.

THE MONARCH O'MELOGHLIN.

145

possession of the cities and principal harbours of the island ; and it
became no longer a doubtful question, as to the pre-eminence they
might thereafter hold in the nation, if their progress was allowed to
advance toward a secure possession of their present advantages. But
this advantage was rendered precarious by interferences far different
from the brawling hostility of the native chiefs. The kindred tribes
of the Baltic — which, in their common character of pirates and foes,
are, to a great extent, confounded by historians under a common name,
were yet distinct in tribe and country ; and though ready to unite their
arms for mutual advantage, yet little disposed to concede, without a
struggle, the possession of a country which was progressively becom-
ing more important as they advanced in commercial prosperity. The
Norwegians, or White Strangers, were at strife with the Danes, or
Black Strangers, or as they were, in the native Irish, called Fiugalls
and Dubhgalls.

In the year 850, a considerable fleet of the Dark Strangers, a race
till about this period not much known in the island, landing on the Irish
coast, made an attack on the White Strangers, who were in possession of
Dublin. This event is, with the uncertainty of our annalists, placed by
each at a different period. The Four Masters are said by Mr Moore
to make it 849, Ware 85 1 ; but the following extract from the Four
Masters — carefully translated, and compared with \h& Annals ofTigher-
nach, by an Irish scholar of high reputation, for a most authoritative
antiquarian publication of the present day* — seems to involve the matter
in some additional difficulty. Under the year 845, it is mentioned:
" The Dubhgalls arrived this year in Dublin, slaughtered the Fingalls,
demolished their fortress, and carried off prisoners and property. The
Dubhgalls attacked the Fingalls at Lindunachaill, and made great
havoc of them." The date matters little — of the event there is no doubt.
And it is pretty evident that, under the liability to such contingencies,
there could be little steady prosperity. The Danes were, besides, be-
ginning to be divided among themselves : the habit of entering into the
feuds of the native chiefs had, as Mr Moore observes, this weakening
effect. In the following year from the event last mentioned, the Fin-
galls having recruited their numbers from abroad, made a fierce and
successful effort to regain their city. The battle was one of violence
unprecedented in Irish history; it continued three days and three
nights, and ended in the entire discomfiture of the Dubhs, with dread-
ful slaughter.

We have already offered the reader some important notices of
ancient Ireland, in which express mention is made of the city of
Dublin: its growing importance at the period in which we are now
engaged, make this the fittest occasion to offer some further notices
from the same authority. These, for the convenience of our narrative,
we extract in the form of a note.f The next occurrence, of which

* Dublin Peuny Journal, p. 175.

f " Dublin, therefore, has a just claim to an antiquity of seventeen centuries, and
it is manifest that it must have existed several centuries before Ptolemy's time, else
he would not have called it a city, or even have heard of it. The first mention we
find made of Dublin, in the remnant of ancient Irish history that has reached our
times, is in the Annals of Tighernach, under the year 166, where he tells us that

I. K Ir.

146 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

there is distinct notice worthy of mention, is one alike important iu
the history of both the British isles. The protracted tyranny of
Turgesius, and the growing power and union of the Danes in both,
islands, gave a prospect of advantage sufficient to awaken the ambition
of the Norwegian princes, Anlaf, Sitric, and Ivar. Collecting a
powerful body of troops from the coasts and islands of the Northern
sea, they landed on the Irish coast, and took unresisted possession of
the ports of Dublin, Limerick, and Waterford, — the latter of which
now for the first time became the site of a city, of which Sitric is al-
lowed to have been the founder.

A tale is told by Giraldus, of the stratagem by which the three brothers
obtained possession of the country. Coming in the disguise of mer-
chants, he represents them as gaining a friendly footing in different
parts of the country. The story has not, however, even the ordinary
probability of a fairy tale, or requires at least, in the reader, the most
childlike ignorance of the common workings of any state of society.

Superior sagacity, knowledge, resources, and the command of an
extensive line of well-manned positions, in a word, a force which ren-
dered hopeless such efforts as could at the time be brought to bear
upon them, gave them that commanding and admitted influence,
which nothing less could have given ; and O'Meloghlin soon saw him-
self occupying a place virtually subordinate in his dominions. A
tribute to the Norwegian princes, was the unequivocal test of national

the Con of the hundred battles, and Mogha Nuadhat, divided Ireland into two parts,
by a line drawn from the eastern to the western Athcliath, i. e. from Athcliatli
Duiblinne to Athcliath Meadhraidhe, or from Dublin to Clarin's-bridge, near Gal-
way. It is added in other accounts (not in Tighernach), that Mogha Nuadhat.
who was otherwise called Eogan the Splendid, thought himself over-reached in this
partition, because the half of the harbour of Dublin, which he observed to be com-
modious for traffic, and visited by ships, did not fall within his allotment ; and that
to gain which he commenced hostilities, and lost his life in the attempt.

" I cannot at all believe that the settlement of Dublin as a place of commerce, and
as a fortified town, can be attributed to the Scandinavian pirates, in the ninth
century. The Annals of the Four Masters record the death of St Beraidh, abbot of
Dublin, under the year 650, and that of Siadhal, abbot of Dublin, under the
year 785.

" The author of the Life of St Kevin, who wrote more than a thousand years
ago. thus speaks of our city : —

" ' Civitas Athcliath est in aquilonali Lageniensium plaga super fretum mans
posita, et Scotice dicitur Dubhlinn quod sonat Latine Nigra Therma, et ipsa,
civitas potens et Belligera est, in qua semper habitant viri asperimi in proeliis et
peritissimi in classibus.'

" The city of Ath-diath is situate in the northern region of Leinster, upon a
strait of the sea ; it is styled in the Scotic language Dubh-linn, which signifies
Dark Bath. This city is powerful and warlike, and always inhabited by men
most hardy in battles, and most expert in fleets.

" The Irish name of Dublin is Baile Atha Cliatli, or The Town at the ford of the
Hurdles ; and the name of that part of the Liffey on which it is built, Duiblinn,
or the Black Water.

•' The Book of Dinnseanchus informs us that this ford across the river was called
Alh-cliath, or the ford of Hurdles, from hurdles of small twigs which the Lagenians,
in the reign of their king Mesgeira, placed across the river for the purpose of con-
veying the sheep of Athirny Ailaeascah to Dun Edair, a fortress of the hill of
Kowth, where many of the young warriors of Ulster were then stationed." — Annals
of Dublin, translated by Mr John O' Donovan, Dublin Penny Journal, \. 174,

AODH FINLIATH, MONARCH.

147

submission; and Imar, or Ivar, is mentioned by the Four Masters a;-;
king of the Danes in England and Ireland. The last effort of
O'Meloghlin to shake off the iron weight that pressed his monarchy to
the ground, was a battle fought at Drummoy, of which the Masters
rather equivocally state, " where many of them fell."

O'Meloghlin died some time in 863, and was succeedi-d in the mon-
archy by Aodh Finliath.

AODH FINLIATH, MONARCH.
A. D. 863—879.

ERE this, the reader of these pages will have it forced on his ob-
servation, that the monarchs of this confused period are, without any
stretch of rhetorical licence, described as shadows of royalty. Under
the names of these kingly phantoms, we are compelled to proceed on-
ward with a broken and uncertain record of events, in which they ap-
pear to have had but little part ; and under the name of biography to
present a scanty and doubtful history. But in this there is little choice
— as the only alternative would consist in the detail of those incidents
without character or probability, with which a few writers of heated ima-
gination have filled up the broken cloud-work which conceals the unre-
corded past. The interest arising from continuity and connexion, in a
well-ordered narration, is here of necessity broken at every step, not
alone by the chasms of the narration, but by the controverted points
which start up at every period, and the conjectural notions, the claim
of which is chiefly derived from the undue importance which has been
attributed to them, by writers unaccustomed to weigh the actual pro-
gress and true connexions of historical events — a fault not more to be
imputed to the most zealous fanatic of a theory, than to the little phil-
osopher who is found demolishing the fantastic edifice with weapons
not more substantial. In making this statement, we feel a natural
wish to support ourselves by the sanction of a name, and none perhaps
can be found less exceptionable on every account than Mr Moore,
whose learned, intelligent, and industrious history, strongly exemplifies
these inevitable disadvantages of the subject, when encountered by the
fairest mind. We have, with this view, lighted on the following passage,
which fully states the difficulty with which the biographer has to con-
tend: " Among the deficiencies most to be complained of by a reader

of our early history, is the want of interest and instruction arising from
the contemplation of individual character, — the rare occurrence not
merely of marked historical personages, but of any actors in the tu-
multuous scene sufficiently elevated above their cotemporaries to at-
tract the eye in passing, or form a resting-place for the mind."

Under the name of Aodh, the only point of historical importance to
be mentioned, is his marriage with Malmaria, daughter of Kenneth
MacAlpine, king of the Irish colony of Scotland. The history of this
colony may be briefly summed.

It is after some controversy now superfluous to detail, admitted
by all recent historical writers, that Scotland has derived its name.

J48 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION".

with no inconsiderable portion of its inhabitants, from the neighbour-
ing shores of Ireland, of which the inhabitants are commonly mentioned
in old historians under the name of Scots, or Scots of Hibernia ; while
Scotland was known under the name of Albyn, or Albania, to the llth
century. In the time of this eminent Chieftain, this colony ceased to be
dependent on an Irish chief. Its position, and the extent of the district
which it occupied, is described by Dr. O'Conor — it comprised "Ken-
tire"am, Knapdaliam, Loarnam, Ardgatheliam, and Braid Alban, cum
vicinis insulis Hebridum." " On the small stage of this miniature
realm," writes Mr. Moore, " we find acted over again, most of the dark
and troubled scenes of th« Irish pentarchy ; the same lawlessness and
turbulence, redeemed sometimes by the same romantic heroism ; a
similar reverence for all that was sanctioned by the past, combined with
as light and daring a recklessness of the future. That rooted attach-
ment to old laws and usages, which marked the natives of the mother
country, was here transmitted in full force to their descendants ; tlie
ancient language and all the numerous traditions of which it was the
vehicle ; the system of clanship and laws of succession ; even the old
party-coloured dress worn by the ancient Scots, all continued to be re-
tained in North Britain to a much later period than among the original
Irish themselves."

The succession of internal feuds and dissensions which occupy the
interval, we must refer to the history of Scotland. But, not long be-
fore the period in which we are engaged, a series of desperate conflicts,
between the Irish Scots and their Lowland neighbours the Picts, ended
in the union of the two races in one monarchy, under a king of the
Irish race — the celebrated hero Kenneth MacAlpine.

CORMAC, KING OF CASHEL.
A. D. 908.

CORMAC MACCUUNAN, king and bishop of Cashel, or as he is more
correctly styled by some of our ancient writers, king of Munster and
bishop of Cashel, appears to have been born in the year 837- The early
portion of his life may be passed — but he seems to have ended a long
life spent in the tranquil pursuits of literature, by a brief and troubled
reign chiefly passed in the field. Seventy years from his birth passed
away like a long and calm day of sunshine, spent in the contemplative
repos>e of the conventual cell ; and terminated, as such days will some-
times terminate, in the din and confusion of gathering storms. Except
the honourable evidence of his important writings, his previous course,
for the long period of seventy years, is trackless on our annals: but
these obscure years have left to posterity, in that valuable record the
Psalter of Cashel, a striking illustration of the law by which the fame
of the scholar may be reflected, from the humblest station or the
most unnoticed obscurity, beyond the most swelling characters and
noisiest events which arrested the applause or censure of his day.
But Cormac, though the events of his life are only known by such a
result, was not obscure — he was of royal descent and high ecclesiasti-
cal station, and he lived in a period and country when learning,

CORMAC, KING OF CASHEL.

149

though its state was not much above a formal ignorance, was held in
veneration proportioned to the difficulty of its attainment.

Cormac had scarcely time to settle in his throne, before he learned
that it was not to be the easy chair of an aged priest. Some doubts
have been expressed as to which side the aggression came from, in
the war which, in five years from his accession, began between him
and the monarch Flan. We have no authority, but it is inconsistent
with all the probabilities, that the ancient and venerable student could
have been the first intentional aggressor. The monarch was the
first who struck the blow, having, according to the annalists, in 906,
made a hostile inroad upon Munster, and laid waste the whole district
from Gaura to Limerick. The insult was not destined to pass un-
punished.

In the next year, the venerable prince took the field at the head of
a sufficient force; and, with the assistance of the valiant abbot of
Iniscathy, encountered the monarch on the heath of Moylena, and
obtained a decided victory, which compelled Flan to give hostages of
submission. Following up his good fortune, he entered Roscommon,
where he exacted and received similar tokens of subjection.

It was. however, a uniform result of the multitude of small conflicting
interests of these petty princes of an uncivilized period, and of disputes
as to rights in themselves ill-defined and liable to the wilful misunder-
standing of an encroaching spirit, that pledges of submission were no
longer binding than while there were means to enforce them. The
monarch did not altogether acquiesce in the king of Munster's as-
sumption of rights, which seemed in a great measure to have their
basis in usurpation In the gradual increase of its prosperity, the
throne of Cash el had begun to assume the portentous aspect of a rival
power; and its demands of tribute, by right limited within its pro-
vincial boundaries, were, by tacit sufferance, extended through the
southern provinces of Ireland. Against a demand thus questionable
in its origin, resistance quickly gathered force among the more in-
telligent people of Leinster, whose habits were rendered alert and
firm by their more constant contact with the Danes. In this they
were sanctioned by their king, and encouraged by the monarch.
Cormac would, it is agreed, have willingly consulted his repose, the
peace of his people, and perhaps the obligations of his sacred calling ;
but these milder dispositions were under the control of a rough, am-
bitious, and violent spirit. Flathertach, the warlike abbot of Iniscathy,
quickly overruled any pacific scruple he may have entertained, and the
Munster forces were led into the province of Leinster.

But the combined forces of his two great antagonists were far be-
yond the utmost force which the king of Cashel could lead to the field :
and the foreboding of his fate, which on this occasion is attributed to
him, may well have been the just impression which this disparity was
likely to make on a mind observant by nature, and touched with the
natural apprehension of old age. Under this impression he entered
with calm resignation on the important preparations for the event.
He sent for the rightful head of the Dalcassians, and made a public
and solemn declaration of his right to the succession. He also inadu
a will, in which he bequeathed legacies to his friends and the church.

150

MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

The result of the battle of Beallaghmughna, which soon after fol-
lowed, but too truly justified the presentiments of Cormac. The
struggle was long, but the Munster troops were forced to yield to a
superior force: Cormac was slain most probably in the confusion at
tendant on the route, as his character and age forbid the supposition
of his having assumed a prominent part in the ranks.

There is nothing, however, in the ecclesiastical character of that
barbaric period — when martial virtue was all in all, and Christianity
was already far gone in the corruptions which continued, for five cen-
turies more, to encrust its holy light — to cast reproach on the bishop
or abbot, who exchanged his mitre and gown for helmet and mail, and,
at the call of sovereign or feudal duty, led his subjects or retainers to
the field. Of this the reader's recollections of English contemporary
history will supply abundant examples. Cormac was, as Mr Moore
bas justly remarked, " made evidently the instrument, during his few
years of sovereignty, of some of the more violent and aspiring spirits
of his order." If we stop to compare (although such a comparison
must rest only on strong inferential grounds) the apparent character
of this venerable prince with the probable character of his adviser —
the intermeddling, arrogant, and underplotting abbot of Iniscathy,
who contrived to persuade, against his better purpose, the aged priest
and student, to an unequal contest for an unrighteous demand — the
mind is struck by an impressive contrast, which often recurs among
the events of every generation. The mild and gentle simplicity of a
great and wise mind, rendered perhaps additionally yielding from the
natural effect of age — too simply good to penetrate the folds in which
duplicity hides its inmost purpose, or to see through the lurking
snare to which it is led by a series of crafty and specious impositions ;
he becomes an easy prey to the cautious and pliant, but daring and
unscrupulous schemer, who seizes on his ready ear with specious pre-
tences, winning insinuations, confident and outfacing lies, or finely de-
vised positions of necessity, as occasion offers. We need not labour
to give force to a picture, to which the recollection of most of our
readers, who are not young in the world, will suggest resemblances ;
our own many.

Such is the probable sketch of the king and his mitred counsellor of
state : but that of the former will best be completed by observing the
tranquil firmness and justice of his preparations for the event of a war
in which he was reluctant to engage; his equitable respect for the
alternate right of the Dalcassian branch to give a successor to the
throne; and the calm resignation and piety which place him rather in
the light of a noble spirit in the midst of adversity and danger, than
the leader of an unjust war.

The items of his will are, with sufficient probability, given by Keat-
ing. They consist chiefly of bequests to the churches of ounces of
gold and silver, with various articles of church service, as chalices,
vestments, and a mass-book. Some, however, of the accompanying
bequests have been noticed, as affecting the credit of the whole : a
"clock,'' and a "coat of mail of bright and polished steel." We have not,
at this moment, the means of ascertaining the allowances which may
be made for the mistranslation which may possibly have betrayed the

ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN.

historian into an. anachronism seemingly so gross. We have familial-
proof that the clock was yet unknown in any form, from the common
story of Alfred's application of candles to the purpose of the measure-
ment of time ; nor was the coat of mail known until long after the
Norman conquest, from which its gradual invention, by repeated im-
provements, is traced with historical precision, from the iron-ringed
tunic of the Norman knight of that period, to the perfect panoply of
steel in the 14th century. But the use of armour in early periods,
and the Eastern invention of curious pieces of mechanism to supply the
want of the clock, are of uncertain antiquity. Cormac was an anti-
quary, and doubtless a collector of such rare and foreign curiosities
as the wealth of a royal collector of his period might command. He
was a scholar; and an occasional communication with the best intelli-
gence then in Europe, may have placed in his possession many imper-
fect things, the rudiments of future improvement. No allowance,
however, on the score of such considerations, can be made for the
language of the will, as given by Keating; and, on the whole, we
incline to reject the document.

ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN.
A. D. 950.

THE great prominence of the Danes in the entire civil history of
this period, together with the fact that they must also be now regarded
as having become virtually no inconsiderable division of the inhabi-
tants of the inland, whether respect is had to their power, possessions,
numbers, or length of settlement — these considerations demand the
admission of this eminent king and captain into our series of bio-
graphies. There is, indeed, a difficulty which has very much limited
our means of being as authentic and distinct as might be desired, on
the history of the Danish princes. While the main record of their
achievements is sufficiently marked with a deep and blood-stained
outline of murderous fields and forays, the annalists, both in England
and Ireland, are always briefly confined to the events of war; and.
being often contradictory on these, are also pretty uniformly so on
all other subjects of historical inquiry. The frequent repetition of
the same principal names among the Danish princes has, in the ab-
sence of connected detail, constantly misled the compilers of the scat-
tered and broken links of their history; and, though the task of his-
torical research may thus derive additional interest in comparing
authorities and balancing adverse probabilities, it remains for us,
whose office excludes all that is much beneath the surface of popular
interest, to proceed straight forward according to the most allowed
and known views of history.

We have already mentioned the arrival in this country of the three
brothers, Anlaf, Sitric, and Ivar. The coincidence of names and
dates, in the Saxon and Irish records, with sufficient accuracy settle
the important fact, that England and Ireland were equally the subject
of their hostile operations ; and the same comparison enables the his-
torian to infer, that these operations were generally conducted with

152 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

similar success and like consequences in each. Although interrupted
and frequently divided in its progress, by the diverse accidents of a
war continued in different places and with different people, there was
yet a combining principle, under the influence of which the empire of
the Northmen always tended to a union under a single head. The
far more authentic view which we are enabled to take of their English
history, casts also a strong reflection on the obscure conciseness of our
annals, and explains the mystery of their having out-lived so many
deaths and expulsions as these records exhibit.

The chief, Ivar, whom our annalists have described as king of
English and Irish Danes, is mentioned by the Northern Annals as
having landed on the English coast and obtained possession of the
northern side of the Humber, A. D. 867. The account which they
give of the circumstances which led to his coming over from Den-
mark, cannot, without some uncertain adaptations, be reconciled with
his previous history. But it is enough here to state, that he is re-
presented by the English historians as king of Northumbria, and by
the Irish as king of the Danes of England and Ireland. Mr Moore
is perhaps right in conjecturing, if we have correctly understood his
intent (for he does not say so much), that two distinct persons are
confused under the common name of Ivar, and that the northern
chroniclers have anticipated the events of a later period. We incline
to think that the perplexity arises from the confusion of generations,
so likely to occur in an incorrect chronology. The sagas were reluc-
tant to deduce the history of an important enterprise unless directly
from the Scandinavian shore, and desirous to magnify the hero of the
story by combining the honours of several descents in one.

Without perplexing ourselves, therefore, with investigations which
belong to a more learned class of historians, it may be stated, on the
distinct and circumstantial authority of all the most received Saxon
chroniclers, that a Danish chief, named Ivar, invaded Northumbria,
East Anglia, and Wessex; and that, in the course of his campaign,
he won some bloody battles and sustained some slight reverses, but
remained master of a considerable territory, which was retained by
the Danes till the final success of Alfred reduced their force and de-
fined their condition as subjects.

Still formidable in numbers and spirit, the Danes appear to have
rested subdued under the firm and comprehensive ascendancy of Al-
fred's genius, until we arrive at the period in which our notice is
actually engaged.

Sitric, who was probably the son of Ivar, died sometime about 925
or 926, and left two sons, Godfrid and Anlaf. Athelstane, who now
had succeeded to the kingdom of England, immediately formed a
determination hostile to the succession of these to the Northumbrian
territories of their father. A prompt and rapid inroad left thu bro-
thers no alternative but a hasty flight, and Athelstane seized on Nor-
thumberland. Godfrid, by the result of the course he took, was soon
compelled to submit to Athelstane, who received and treated him
kiu»lly. Anlaf, of far superior abilities, adopted a more cautious
course. He retired to his friends and relations in Ireland, and
watched the course of events. A favourable juncture seemed to arise.

ANLAF, KING OF DUBLIN.

153

In the rapid and complex operations of a system of small and unsettled
politics, it was obvious to a sagacious understanding, that he could
not have long to remain in suspense. He soon learned that some
cause of quarrel existed between Athelstane and the Scottish king. To
this latter prince he instantly proceeded, and awakened his fears for
the consequences by the reasonable suggestion, that Athelstane was as
likely to attempt the surprise of Scotland as of Northumberland. He
urged the expediency of anticipating this dangerous movement, and
offered the assistance of a powerful force from Ireland. The Scottish
king, already alarmed by the successes of Athelstane, and still writh-
ing under the insult of a haughty reception at his court, was easily
excited to action. Each withdrew to prepare his forces. They were
joined by the Welsh. The accounts of this war are not quite con-
sistent, but the differences do not affect the leading facts. Athel-
stane began by obtaining a decided victory over the Welsh; and,
meeting soon after the forces of the Scot and Dane on their way, he
gave them a most bloody defeat, in which the son of Constantine. the
Scottish king, with six Danish kings and twelve earls, together with a
prodigious multitude of their men, were left dead on the field. The
scene of this battle is, by the most probable conjecture, laid at a place
now called Bromford, in Northumberland. It is represented to have
lasted from dawn till sunset; and, during this long interval, to have
been maintained with alternate success. The annalists agree in repre-
senting it as without parallel in the history of England. Anlaf, who
had been the head of the league, was now reduced to the necessity
of seeking a refuge in Ireland, for himself and the wretched remains
of his army.

Athelstane who, by the result of this bloody fight, was raised
above the level of the ambition or resentment of his adventurous
neighbours, was allowed to continue in peace for the remainder
of his short reign. A story is told of Anlaf, on the authority of
William of Malmesbury, which it is our duty to repeat, as it may
probably be true. A few days before this battle, so disastrous to
his fortunes, took place, he was anxious to ascertain with precision
the strength, and to penetrate the designs of the enemy. For this
purpose it occurred to him to adopt the celebrated expedient attri-
buted, truly or falsely, to Alfred by the same questionable writers.
Having assumed the disguise of a harper, he entered the enemy's
lines, where he might have successfully effected his purpose, had
he not been recognised by a soldier. The soldier, who had served
under Anlaf, allowed him to retire without molestation; but, having
given him time to reach his own lines, he immediately apprised king
Athelstane, excusing his own conduct on the ground of the military
oath he had given to Anlaf, — at the same time he advised the king
to change his quarters, as he judged that Anlaf had some design of
attacking him there at night. The soldier's hint was acted on ; and,
as the story is told, Athelstane had reason to be thankful for it; for,
during the night, Anlaf, at the head of a select party, made an attack
on the camp; and, having penetrated to the site from which the king
had removed, slew a bishop with all his troop, who had, in the mean-
time, taken up his quarters there. The reader should be made aware,

154 MONAKCHS TO THE iSORMAN INVASION.

that the objection to this story, and to the previous edition of it which
occurs in the reign of king Alfred, is simply this — that neither of them
occur in the earlier chronicles of England, but are found for the first
time in the pages of writers, in whose time it had become customary
to give popularity to history, by interweaving it with the devices of a
fertile imagination.

It was seven years from the battle of Brunanburgh when Anlaf, who
had in the meantime remained in Ireland, was induced, by communi-
cations with the Northumbrian Danes, once more to try his fortune
in England. Athelstane was dead — his successor, Edmund, an inex-
perienced youth. Anlaf found means to raise a sufficient force, and
also succeeded in obtaining a strong addition to his troops from Olaus
king of Norway. He soon entered Northumberland ; the gates of York
were thrown open to receive him, and he recovered many places with-
out serious opposition. But the antagonist with whom he had to con-
tend, though inexperienced, was brave, and eager to put the contest to
the issue of arms. They met near the old Chester, and came to an
engagement which continued the whole day without a decisive result.
The next day the archbishops of Canterbury and York, the first on
the Saxon and the second on the Danish side, contrived to set on foot
a negotiation, in which a peace was concluded. By the terms of
agreement now entered upon, king Edmund ceded to Anlaf all the
territory north of the Roman highway,' which divided England into
two nearly equal parts.

Anlaf had, however, contracted a heavy debt for the expenses of
his Norwegian army; and to pay it was compelled to adopt the
unpopular resource of an oppressive taxation. A large province
revolted, and set up a claim for Reginald, the son of Godfrid, the
brother of Anlaf — so that thus in 944, two years from the date of
his first success, Anlaf found himself once more involved in a dangerous
war ; for king Edmund, placing himself at the head of what we might
term an army of observation, hovered near the hostile powers to watch
and take advantage of their strife. His presence had, perhaps, some
effect in moderating their disposition to engage ; and he seems to
have taken the most prudent counsel, in taking upon him the part of
a mediator, and effecting a peace between the parties on terms most
favourable to his own interests — namely, the division of the rival
power, by each retaining the portion of territory which he respectively
held. Edmund, however, had not reached his home, when he was
overtaken by an account of the two kings having united their arms to
free themselves from subjection to his authority. At once turning
back, he came upon them before their forces were drawn together.
Resistance was out of the question, and the two kings fled: the Danes
threw down their arms, and swore allegiance to Edmund.

It is not within our province to relate the tragical death of Edmund,
A. D. 948. But soon after, in the reign of his successor Edred, Anlaf
was recalled by the Danes from Ireland, and placed in a condition so
secure as to have little fear of reverse, had not his own oppressive
temper, or the exigency of his necessities, rendered his government,
intolerable to the Danes, so that he was once more compelled to leave
his Northumbrian dominion for Dublin, and Eric was chosen to fill

BRYAN BORU. 155

his place. A part of the Danes still adhered to Anlaf ; and having
reinforced himself in Ireland, he marched again into Northumbria,
and Eric was compelled to fly. King Edred marched an army into
Northumberland, but a strong appeal to his mercy changed his pur-
pose, and, listening to the wishes of the Danes, he confirmed Eric in
liis authority. Again, he had not retired when the Danes pursued
and fell upon his rear, so that it was by considerable effort that his
army escaped being cut to pieces. Justly resenting this repeated
treachery, he collected a large army, and, returning, desolated North-
umberland, and reduced it to a province of his own dominions. Of
Anlaf, we find no other authentic trace.

BRYAN BORU.

A. D. 917.

BRYAN was a younger son of Kennedy, king of Munster. On the
succession of his eldest brother, Mahon, to the provincial throne, he had
reached his thirty-fourth year. His enterprising spirit had made
itself conspicuous in early life, and collected round him the bravest
and most adventurous of the Munster youth. The activity of his
genius, excited by universal expectation and the influence of this stir-
ring companionship, quickly led to numerous bold and adventurous
exploits on a small scale, which were important enough to raise his
reputation for valour and conduct, while they prepared and opened the
way for more weighty command. At this time the forest retreats and
mountain passes of Munster were infested by numerous plundering
parties, which spread fear and insecurity among the peaceful. Against
these his little band of brave Dalcassians was trained to deeds of
hardihood, and exercised in the warfare of the age. The obscure
annals of the period afford no satisfactory means of tracing the steps
of this early ascent to fame. The earliest event of importance, in
which his presence is otherwise than inferentially ascertained, occurs
in the course of an expedition in which he served under his brother.
The purpose of this expedition was plunder — an object quite recon-
cilable with the morality of the period, which recognised in its fullest
extent the " good old rule," made universally familiar by Mr Words-
worth's terse stanza —

' The good old rule sufficeth them — the simple plan-
That those may take who have the power, and those may keep who can."

In the spirit of this elastic equity, the party of king Mahon had
swept together the spoil of half a county on the Connaught side of the
Shannon ; and, with the satisfactory sense of a conscientious execution
of their duty, were meditating a peaceful retreat, when O'Ruarc with
a large body of bold Connaught men unfortunately appeared and quick-
ened their march into a rapid retreat. The river Fairglin arrested
their steps. Encumbered with their spoils, and by no means prepared
for a pitched battle, the party of Mahon was taken at a very serious
disadvantage; and their defeat was a consequence which no valour or
skill could have averted. Mahon saved himself by swimming the

156 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

stream; while the character of Bryan was maintained by the cool and
steady valour which mitigated, though it could not avert, the evil for-
tune of the day. Another occasion, of which the event was more
suited to the valour and renown of the brave Dalcassians, was not
tardy in presenting itself. The Danes of Limerick, apprised of the
approach of a strong body of Munster forces, had taken a position on
a vast plain at Sulchoid, well known for the commodious extent and
position which made it a suitable field for a pitched battle. On the
approach of Mahon's army, a strong detachment was sent out to favour
the purpose of observation. Against these Bryan advanced at the
head of his troop, with such rapid impetuosity, that, before they could
well prepare for blows, they were routed with the loss of half their
number. This effective charge decided the battle. The fugitives,
rushing in unexpectedly upon the main body, threw it into confusion,
and scattered disarray and panic through every rank. Before they
could recover, the entire force of Mahon was pouring its thick and
steady column into the midst of their broken masses, with a force which
permitted no effort to rally. An unresisted slaughter commenced,
and continued till 3000 Danes lay heaped upon the field: they only
recovered self-possession to fly, but the conquerors had broken through
their scattered ranks and allowed them no advantage in flight. Both
entered Limerick together ; and the work of death, commenced in the
field, was prolonged into a hideous and indiscriminate scene of havoc
in the city. At last the fury of the Dalcassians subsided, for want of
foes to strike. Mahon then collected all the spoil of the city, and left
behind him a desolate mass of smoking ruins.

The reign of Mahon was signalized by frequent enterprises of the
same kind; the repetition of which can now add nothing to the
reader's interest, as they have nearly all the same character and
event. The brilliant results of a continued succession of victories,
must have placed this Dalcassian chief high among the most eminent
names of his period ; but the crime of an inferior chief, not wholly
accounted for, cut short his heroic career to this illustrious eminence,
and left the way open to Bryan. A neighbouring chief — envious, it
is said, of his fame, but more probably under the exasperation of some
slight, not intended by its author — contrived a most perfidious and
cowardly scheme, of which Mahon was the victim.

Like most impetuous persons, accustomed to meet with uniform de-
ference and respect, Mahon could not suspect treachery under the
mask of pretended friendship; frank and generous, too, he was slow
to suspect the overtures of an humbled enemy. Maolmua — a person
of aspiring and presumptuous character, who had once ventured to
brave his authority, and suffered the reward of his temerity — sent him
an urgent message, expressive of a strong desire to confer with him.
There must undoubtedly have been some important understanding, of
which we are not aware, to give weight and interest to the request;
at all events, the frank and generous nature of Mahon was peculiarly
open to such a demand. Summoning a few attendants, he turned to-
wards the distant habitation of the chief. It was probably late when
he arrived at a lonesome region among woods and mountains, where
he was quickly surrounded by a strong party, and he found himself a

BRYAN BORU. 157

helpless captive in the hands of an implacable enemy. The place of
his death had been marked out; and, when the night had fully set in,
he was hurried on to an unfrequented hollow in the mountains near
Macroomp, where he was murdered.

Bryan, who had for some time held the chieftainship of Thomond,
succeeded to the throne of Munster, on his brother's death. He lost
no time in exacting1 a stern retribution for the murder of his brave
brother. Collecting an adequate force, he sought the perfidious Maol-
mua where he had .secured himself among the secluded and difficult
recesses of the wild mountain district which had been the scene of his
crime. Thus strongly posted — with a considerable force of his own,
and assisted by the Danes, whom fear and hatred armed against the
growing power of Munster — Maolmua cherished a strong sense of
security, and doubtless was not without some presumptuous hope of
winning honour by the defeat of a hated rival. But the courage of
Bryan was tempered, in an unusual degree, with cool caution, and the
skill acquired by long habits of forest and mountain warfare. Quickly
ascertaining the position and advantages of his enemy, he discovered
that a strong reinforcement, expected by Maolmua, had not yet come
up; taking his measures accordingly, he managed to throw himself
on its line of approach ; he thus intercepted, and gained a complete
victory over Donovan, Maolmua's ally ; and then, rapidly turning his
steps, he came unexpectedly on the latter, who had probably supposed
him to be still engaged with Donovan, and broken up from his position
to assist his ally. However this may be, there is no doubt that Bryan
surprised him somewhere near the spot of Mahon's murder, and de-
feated his party with great slaughter. It is also mentioned, that
Bryan's brave son, Morough, won his first fame in this battle, by en-
gaging hand to hand with Maolmua, whom he slew on the spot which
had been the scene of his brave uncle's murder.

But the lasting honour, which has rendered the name of Bryan still
more illustrious in the annals of his country, was not gained in civil
feuds, of which the occurrence was but too frequent, and the results
too fatal and durable. These were but the obstacles with which his
genius and valour had to contend in his long and consistent opposition
to the strangers who, notwithstanding their partial conversion to Chris-
tianity, still continued to persecute the religion and devastate the sacred
monuments of Ireland. At the very time that he was engaged in taking
just vengeance for his brother's death, the Danes were in possession of
the island of Iniscathy, which the reader may recollect as the scene
made venerable by the sanctity of its eleven churches, as well as by
the tomb and recollections of its patron saint, Senanus. Here the
Danes had availed themselves of the position and probably of the
buildings which had been constructed for very different purposes, to
establish a repository for military stores ; and, as the native Irish, by
nature devotedin their zeal, whether for religion or superstition, flocked,
in defiance of all danger, to pay their vows and place their offerings at
the sacred shrines of the island, it thus afforded no small acquisition
to the rapacity of its masters. Here Bryan landed with twelve hun-
dred of his Dalcassian heroes ; and, after a fierce struggle with its
Danish occupants, assisted by a strong detachment from Limerick,

158 MONARCHS TO THE NORSfAN INVASION.

recovered entire possession of the sacred isle. Hia success was secured
liy subsequent operations. Availing himself of the dispersion and
temporary prostration which his recent victories caused among the
Danes, he laid waste the settlement they had established in the other
islands of the Shannon and along its banks, and carried off a rich spoil.

The encroachments of the Munster kings upon the monarchy had
been, in some measure, sanctioned by time ; yet a tribute which im-
plied subjection, and which had no higher claim than that of success-
ful usurpation, could not be expected to pass uncontested, longer than
force or spirit were wanting to give effect to resistance. Of this
extorted contribution the people of Leinster were among the chief suf-
ferers. By position, they were necessarily exposed to the power and
influence of the Danes, who would not, of course, be slow to strengthen
themselves against a powerful enemy, by instigating resistance among
his tributaries. The Leinster province, thus stimulated by the king
of the Danes of Desies, now joined in a strong confederacy with these
and the Danes of Cork and Waterford, together with the chief of
Ossory. In this exigency, Bryan's prompt spirit and masterly tactics
did not fail him ; coming upon the combined force of his enemies, at
a place called the Circle of the Sons of Conrad, he burst upon then)
with an overwhelming force, which quickly scattered them into irre-
trievable confusion, and, with prodigious slaughter, drove them from
the field. The league being thus effectively dissipated, he followed
up his victory by the steps usual in the barbaric warfare of the age.
Seizing on the chief of Ossory, and exacting hostages from the chiefs
of that province, he proceeded to ravage the territories of Leinster ;
and, indemnifying himself for the tribute which had been withheld, by
a rich spoil, he demanded hostages for their future submission, and
received the homage of the Leinster chiefs in his tent.

Before this time, the monarch Domnal, having been removed by
death, he was succeeded by the brave prince, Malachy, whose wisdom
and valour, while they were such as to shed permanent glory on his
memory, were yet late to redeem the weakness which a succession of
feeble monarchs had entailed on the sceptre of Tara. Malachy had,
in the year 978, won universal honour by the splendid victory of Tara ;
in which, after a contest of memorable fierceness and slaughter on
both sides, he routed the Danes, and broke their strength and confi-
dence for a time.

Thus balanced in strength and renown, and placed in the political
position of rival claimants, these two prominent chiefs and warriors,
must be supposed to look forward to the struggle for pre-eminence
which could not long be deferred, and which each must have looked
upon as involving his prospects of fame and ambition. Though, like
Bryan, ardently bent on resistance to the Danish chiefs, yet it was
not to be expected that the active and successful campaigns which had
confirmed the Munster usurpation of the rights of his crown, could be
brooked with complacency by the warlike spirit of Malachy. The
monarch's indignation was betrayed by a rash and splenetic action,
which his calmer recollection must have condemned as unworthy.
Having led a predatory expedition into the Dalcassian territory, he
came in the course of his march to Adair, where his eye was met by

BRfAN BORU. 159

an ancient and venerable tree, sacred for the immemorial usage bv
which the Dalcassian princes were inaugurated under its spreading
shades. Irritated by a swarm of humiliating and wounding associa-
tions, his fiery impulse gave an order which, too promptly obeyed for
recal, left the venerable tree prostrate on the ground — a disgraceful
monument of an unworthy impulse, and of a deed which imparted a
hallowed character to his rival's resentment. But Bryan's spirit was
regulated by a patient and long-sighted comprehension of his own in-
terests; and ambition mastered the sense of insult in his firm and
capacious mind. He knew his time, and allowed the over active Ma-
lachy to ripen for vengeance. Malachy, rendered secure by this im-
punity, again, in the following year, entered a part of his inheri-
tance then under the dominion of Bryan. This could not be allowed
to pass unresisted; and the superior ability of Bryan is shown by the
prompt measures which, without a battle, and by the mere demonstra-
tion of a superior force, compelled the monarch to give way, and to
confirm, by a binding treaty, claims founded in usurpation. The tri-
bute of Leinster, formally ceded to Bryan, was, on this occasion, a
trophy more honourable to himself, more mortifying to his rival, and
in itself more profitable and permanent than the glory of twenty vic-
tories could have really been.

For some years there was peace between these great competitors ;
but it was a politic forbearance, and affords no true interpretation
of the dispositions of either. Malachy could not be supposed to ac-
quiesce in the dismemberment of the monarchy, or in the growing
power of a rival; while, maturing in the depth of Bryan's thoughts,
his designs on the monarchy itself awaited the seasonable moment of
execution. Of this there is enough of indication in the whole consis-
tent tenor of his progress ; there could, however, remain no lingering
doubt, when, in 988, he availed himself of a costly and distant expedi-
tion, which Malachy led against the Danes of Dublin, to invade the
principal provinces of his dominion with an immense army. Covering
the Shannon with the vessels in which he embarked his force, he
descended upon Lough-Ree, and levied contributions from the whole
bordering country. He then divided his force; and, sending one
detachment into western Connaught, he led the other into the province
of Meath : thus spreading plunder, slaughter, and waste, through both
these important districts of the monarchy, he returned to Kincora
laden with the spoil of two provinces.

A warfare of spoliation and devastating inroads now continued, for
some years, to foster the hostility and to weaken the resources of the
two great competitors ; during which the spirit of Malachy and the
vital strength of his monarchy are strongly shown, by the strenuous
warfare which he kept up all this time against the Danes. Against
this powerful common enemy, a sense of self-preservation at last com-
bined, for a season, the forces of both these kings. The result was, a
treatv based on the mutual recognition of their respective rights, to
the sovereignty of the two great divisions of Leath Cuinn and Leath
Mogh.

Uniting their forces, they marched to Dublin, whence they met
with only sufficient resistance to justify the acquisition of spoil. A

160 MONAHCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

more equal contest soon after led to the more honourable and decisive
victory in the valley of Glenmaura. Thinking to gain an advantage
by surprise, the Danes came on their army with a seemingly superior
force; but the manoeuvre was rendered vain by the skill and valour
of the Irish leaders ; who obtained a destructive victory, by which the
Danes lost many chiefs, and among them Harolf, the son of king
Anlaf.

All danger arising from the power of the Danes was now, for a
time, dispelled; and the bond which held together two spirits, of
which neither could well brook the rival pretensions and character of
the other, must have begun soon to grow uneasy to both. Historians
who, looking on the results, to which these two illustrious warriors
were led by the course of events, as the leading objects of their lives,
have shown some anxiety to defend their heroes from the imputation
of this breach. Considering them as patriot chiefs, whose policy it
was to expel the common enemy of their country, such views might
have some reason; but it is quite obvious, on a consistent view of
their entire course of conduct from the beginning, that the main
object of each was the maintenance or extension of his power. Pa-
triotism must be assumed in a limited sense, and modified by many
considerations, which make it not worth contending for. The subject
is well worth a little of the reader's attention, as one of the popular
errors of every age.

Each of these powerful rivals began to feel that the stage was clear
for the contest in which, sooner or later, they must of necessity be
engaged; and each, in all probability, bent his mind to the one only
consideration of any importance, in the unprincipled game in which
monarchs have seldom thought it criminal to engage. The conduct of
Malachy was perhaps the most dexterous, as he took a step admitting
of a doubtful construction: he marched his troops into Leinster on a
predatory excursion against those who, while they were by right his
own subjects, were also by treaty under both tribute and allegiance to
Bryan. To recover his sovereignty here must have been his princi-
pal object; to retain it, Bryan's. It was the most serious loss which
the monarchy had sustained, and the most splendid acquisition of the
kings of Munster. This being considered, there can be little doubt as
to the several impulses which moved these warriors. Bryan could not,
without a jealous eye, look on so equivocal a proceeding ; and he felt that
the time was come for a bolder and more decisive move. Collecting
from every quarter a numerous force, and strengthening himself addi-
tionally by a strong party of the Danes of Dublin, he marched towards
the royal seat of Tara. Here, discovering that the monarch had taken
up a position on the plain of Bregia, he detached a party of Danish
cavalry, most probably for the purpose of observation; they came,
however, into collision with Malachy's force, and, rashly pressing on,
were cut to pieces.

The triumph of Malaehy was but short-lived. Bryan's army soon
came up, and, by its vast numerical superiority, made it evident that
nothing but defeat was to be expected from resistance. The monarch,
therefore, submitted ; and, making those appeals to justice and gener-
osity which suited the occasion, he secured present safety by submis-

BRYAN BORU. 161

sion and hostages. Bryan, however willing, could not have attacked
him under the circumstances, without the certainty of incurrinsr re-
proaches that would but ill second any further designs which he may be
supposed to have entertained.* Mr O'Halloran, who seems to have,
to an unusual extent, yielded to the temptation of writing history in
the spirit of romance, represents the monarch as not only having
appealed (as he may have done) to the generosity of Bryan, but also
as pledging himself to meet him in the field, and set his crown on the
issue of a battle. For this, we are assured, there is no authority.

Bryan had, however, in all probability, a clear perception of a fact,
which cannot no*v be so easily inferred — that his object was, by this
event, quietly secured; and if so, there needs no further reason for a
forbearance which saved his force, avoided an unnecessary risk, and
ensured golden opinions. And, if we suppose this event to have been
the result of forecast and deliberate projection, it is not easy to give
too much credit to the sagacity and adroitness which executed so able
a mano3uvre. From the moment of the event, which had thus set the
superiority of Bryan's force and conduct on so prominent an elevation,
the opinion of every class must have been working round into an anti-
cipation of the issue. The real danger of an usurpation of such mag-
nitude, must have consisted chiefly in the first great shock to the con-
ventional notions of the Irish aristocracy. The appeal of the monarch
— struck by surprise from his ancient throne, in the very height of a
glorious career — to the pity, sympathy, and justice of kings and chiefs,
would have been formidable in its first effects ; but the actual event,
while it magnified his illustrious rival, subjected Malachy to a strong
reverse of feeling, from which nothing but prompt and vigorous mea-
sures of retaliation could have saved him. And when, in the follow-
ing year, 1001, his rival marched to Tara at the head of a strong
force, there was neither help for the monarch in his weakness nor pity
in his misfortune. Without a blow to retrieve the honour of his house,
the " descendant of fifty Hy-Niell kings"f became a subject, and pledged
his allegiance to Bryan as monarch of Ireland.

The view here taken of the cautious policy of Bryan, if not abso-
lutely affirmed, is strongly justified by the concurring conduct both, of
himself and the excluded branches of the monarchical family. On his
side, restless vigilance and the demonstration of military force — on
theirs, a succession of cautious and timid, yet sufficiently intelligible
attempts at disturbance — were terminated by a bolder effort, which
gave occasion to Bryan to crush their disaffection, in a victory which
he gained over the southern Hy-Niells near Athlone.

He next had to encounter some feeble demonstrations on the part
of Aodh, the grandson of the renowned Murkertach, and the northern
Hy-Niell branch ; who severally exhibited a disposition to resist, but
were, without any serious effort, repressed.

It would, perhaps, be carrying too far the license of historical scep-
ticism, to refuse to Malachy the praise which his subsequent course of

* To explain Bryan's forbearance requires no supposition. His conduct was
equally prudent on the opposite assumption, though the reason would be in some
degree different.

f Moore.

T. L Jr.

162 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

conduct will bear. If his motives were not of the highest order, his
actions will yet bear the noblest interpretation ; and, although it is
our opinion that he could not, with safety or prudent policy, have taken
any course but that which, while it preserved his substantial power,
kept open the succession, — yet we must admit that the most heroic
patriotism could not have selected higher ground than the course
actually pursued by the deposed monarch. As we have already taken
occasion to observe, a high course of conduct, in whatever motives it
may begin, seldom fails to call into action those high motives from
which it should have arisen. Such is the mixed character of human
virtues.

Setting aside the philosophy of motives, Malachy's acquiescence in
his rival's supremacy was followed by a sincere and manly, as well as
wise adoption of the best means to give firmness and security as well
as a beneficial direction to the usurper's government. Aware that a
struggle for the monarchy would be the certain sacrifice of the nation
to the common enemy, he exerted his influence to preserve the peace
of the country; and, when Bryan made a splendid display of military
strength and royal munificence, in a progress through his dominions,
attended by the kings of Leath Mogh with their attendant forces, Mai-
achy, accompanied by the contingent due from his own province,
followed with the rest.

These progresses form, for some years, a conspicuous feature in the
policy of Bryan. They must have combined many important advan-
tages. Admirably adapted to conciliate the veneration of the multi-
tude, they afforded a not invidious test and surveillance over the chiefs,
few of whom were indeed above the influence of the popular impres-
sions made by these magnificent displays of power. The costly devo-
tion of the new monarch — whose offerings at the shrines of churches,
and general munificence to the church, secured for him the zealous
support of that influential body — affords an additional indication of the
profound and comprehensive policy of his character.

The consequence of this vigorous and prudent policy cannot fail
to be anticipated by the reader. Equally vigilant to control disaf-
fection and turbulence, and to conciliate opinion — equally politic to
select the means, and powerful to enforce them — his reign was the
most prosperous for Ireland that her annals, with any seeming of truth,
record. The dissensions of chiefs, the restless hostilities of the Danes,
the incessant and universal harass and insecurity arising from the
sanctioned practice of robbery on every scale, were compelled, for a
time to pause and disappear before the ascendancy of a policy so alert,
vigilant and pervading. The ruin of ancient institutions was repaired ;
and laws, which had dropped into disuse in the general disorder, were
restored, improved, and enforced. Much of the unauthoritative exag-
geration of historians may be deducted from this account; but still
probability itself affirms enough to convince us, that a considerable
advance in national prosperity must have followed the use of means so
well adapted to produce it. It is added, that this monarch expended
the public revenue on solid improvements. Roads, bridges, and for^
tresses, as well as churches and colleges, arose wherever they were

BRYAN BORU. 163

required; and it will be easily believed, that royal dwellings were not
forgotten.

The next noticeable event is one which strongly confirms our view
of the real principles of Bryan's conduct. In 1013, the Danes, in
combination with the natives of Leinster, made a fierce incursion into
Malachy's province of Meath. Malachy retorted the injury by an in-
road into Leinster, in which he burned the country up to the hill of
Howth (anciently Ben Hedar, or the Mountain of Birds). Here his
progress was intercepted by the combined forces of the king of Lein-
ster and the Danes, and he was defeated with great loss of lives;
amongst which were his son and many of the chiefs of his province.
In his distress, he addressed to Bryan an appeal, the refusal of which
cannot be easily reconciled with justice or generosity. To this appli-
cation, however, a cold refusal was the only response which the un-
remitting, but not always high-minded, policy of Bryan could afford.
The prudence, indeed, of this refusal may well be doubted ; but, under
the circumstances, a suspicion is suggested, that a further depression
of the still popular king of Meath, now deprived of his next heir,
would not. be unwelcome to the ambitious and hard-minded monarch.
The consequences of a triumph thus allowed to the Danes could not
be a surprise to Bryan : the Danes of Dublin, combined with the Irish
of Wicklow, soon assumed a menacing attitude, and he was ready to
shake off his politic repose. He now led his army towards Dublin,
wasting the lands of Ossory upon his way. His eldest son, Morough,
he detached to create a diversion in Wicklow ; who, in the same man-
ner, carried devastation and slaughter as far as Glendalough. The
monarch, having reached Kilmainham, encamped there, and remained
for some months. At last, having so far. succeeded as to keep the
Danes in awe, though unable to effect a more decisive result, he re-
turned to Kineora enriched with the ample plunder of the province.

The activity of the Danes was, however, not to be subdued by any
demonstration of military power. Possessed of the strongest fortifi-
cations then in the island, with superior naval and commercial re-
sources— and though inferior in numerical force, superior in military
discipline and arms — they had the prudence, activity, and address,
which enabled them to multiply their attacks, and to put in motion
the ever-ready and restless turbulence of their neighbours, in whatever
direction their own policy required. During Bryan's encampment
before their walls they had managed to effect a most destructive descent
on Munster; but, before they could re-embark, they received a severe
repulse from the inhabitants, which cost them many lives, among
which was Anlaf, son of the king of Dublin.

But no partial effort, or merely predatory descent, could avail to
secure, against Bryan's growing power, the extensive and also in-
creasing possessions and influence of the Danes. It was necessary for
them to adopt far more ordered and energetic measures for their own
security. The designs of Bryan were perhaps better understood by
them, than they can now be traced among our scanty records ; but it
seems apparent that a struggle could not fail soon to take place. The
Danes adopted a course which requires no hesitation to interpret.

164 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

They summoned their allies from every quarter where their country-
men were to be found. Scotland, and the northern islands in her
vicinity, were roused to arms by their envoys; the coasts and islands
of the Baltic received the awakening message, and responded with
the din and bustle of preparation.

The accounts given by historians, differ so widely on the circum-
stances which led to these preparations, that they in some measure
expose the arbitrary character of such statements. There is, indeed,
every probability, that all such statements as go beyond the mere nar-
rative of the event, are of the same nature and have the same degree
of truth as the news-room disclosures of the present time; which col-
lect probability and circumstantiality, as they pass from tongue to
tongue, until either the fact becomes truly known, or the report be-
comes confirmed by sufferance when the time for exposing it is gone past.
The statements of the ' most widely different kind may, nevertheless,
have all their foundation in real facts, on which busy conjecture has
supplied the connexion. These remarks find some illustration in the
statements here referred to.* Hanmer, citing the Book of Howth,
gives a story which we shall abridge. A Danish merchant, who was
jealous of his wife, having occasion to absent himself, left her under the
protection of Bryan's lady; but still distrustful of this guardianship,
his absence was made unhappy by doubts as to the validity even of a
monarch's protection in such a case. Hastening his return, he came,
early in the morning, by surprise into his wife's apartment, and there
found her with Morough, the monarch's eldest son. Without disturb-
ing the guilty pair, he exchanged swords with Morough ; and, finding
the monarch, vented his indignation in threats which were but too soon
fulfilled. Bryan, we suspect, would have cut short his menaces by a
still more summary arbitrement. But there is this value in the tale ;
that, allowing for the invention which story-tellers use to come at the
chasms of their facts, it seems to point to some " foregone conclusion,"
and may have occurred, without being more than remotely connected,
as one of many incidents, with the battle of Clontarf.f

* Such, indeed, is the common vice of history, and the main consideration which
justifies the dry matter-of-fact method of our annals. These stories afford us the
occasion of noticing the manner in which contemporary gossip was likely to mix
itself with history. Any one who reflects on the numerous discrepant reports on
every incident of sufficient note — which fill the columns of papers and buzz round
the streets, attracting credence each in some private circle, and, if not contra-
dicted by the event, passing unquestioned or undecided into a dim recollection —
will easily conceive how the same process may have given a shape to the private
history of a period, when rumour was more authoritative and the age less sceptical.
The earnest anxiety to secure credence, by the most scrupulous investigation, is
even now inadequate to secure invariable precision to historic statements. The
true occasions — which are of a general and purely political nature — of this great
struggle were, in a time of comparatively small intelligence, little likely to be
known, except to parties concerned. But the occurrence of incidents, such as those
of which we have given the above versions, were, in the highest degree, likely to
be seized on as causes, and woven by the chronicler into a connexion with the
events. From this operation would also arise the particular shape of the narrative ;
it was an allowed custom to invent the speeches ; and the facts being admitted,
the narrator had no idea that, in shaping them into explicit connexion, he was
departing from the office of an historian.

t Hanmer, 184.

BRYAN BORIT.

165

Another story we shall extract from the ancient document, which
we design to adopt as our authority for the particulars of this celebrated
battle. If true, it has the rare merit of affording a singularly clear
glimpse of the domestic manners of the age and country; but we
ought to add that, without questioning the foundation of the statement,
we cannot adopt the writer's statement of the consequences. The
story is thus, in the writer's (or rather the translator's) words: —
" Maelmordha, who usurped the crown of Leinster, in 999? by the
assistance of the Danes, being at an entertainment at Kincora, saw
Morogh, Bryan's eldest son, at a game of chess, and advised his anta-
gonist to a movement which lost Morogh the game; whereupon
Morogh observed to him, with a sneer, that if he had given as good
advice to the Danes at the battle of Glen-mara, the Danes would not
have received so great an overthrow. To which Maelmordha replied:
' My instructions, the next time, shall lead them to victory ;' and
Morogh, with contempt, bade them defiance. Maelmordha became
enraged, retired to his bedchamber, and did not appear at the ban-
quet ; but passed the night in restless anger, and ruminating his coun-
try's ruin. Early next morning he set out for Leinster, without
taking leave of his monarch or any of his household, to show that he
was bent upon desperate revenge. The good monarch, on hearing
of his departure, sent one of his servants after him, to request his
reconciliation with Morogh The servant overtook him east of the
Shannon, not far from Killaloe, and delivered his message from the
monarch. Maelmordha, who all the while listened with indignation,
as soon as the servant was done speaking, raised the rod of yew which
he had in his hand, and, with three furious blows thereof, fractured
the servant's skull, to make known to Bryan how he rejected such re-
conciliation. He pursued his way on horseback to Leinster; where,
the next day, he assembled his nobles, represented to them the insult
he had received at Kincora, and inflamed them to so great a degree,
that they renounced their allegiance to Bryan, confederated with the
Danes, and sent the monarch defiance. Emissaries were sent to Den-
mark and Norway. The Danes of Normandy, Britain, and the isles,
joyfully entered into the confederacy, pleased at the prospect of once
more gaining possessions in this \a.nd flowing with milk and honey."

But whatever may have been the incidental causes, which imme-
diately brought on the decisive battle which now followed, there can
be no doubt as to the general accuracy of its details.

The following account is taken, with some omissions of little gene-
ral interest, from a translation of an ancient manuscript, by an Irish
scholar of established reputation, who has given additional value to
his work by carefully collating it with the Annals of Inisfallen and
Ulster* After enumerating the Danish force, the ancient annalist
proceeds as follows: —

" The king of Leinster, being now animated by the number of his
auxiliaries, without longer delay, bid defiance, by a herald, to the
monarch Bryan, and challenged him to fight at Moynealty, a spacious
plain near Dublin, now called Clontarf.

* Mi J. O'Uonovun for the DvbUn Penny Journal, p. 133.

166 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

" Bryan Borumha, with all possible speed, mustered the forces of
Munster and Connaught, and marched directly to Clontarf, the place
appointed, and there saw the enemy prepared to oppose him, viz., sixteen
thousand Danes, together with all the power of Leinster, under the
command of their king, Maelmordha, the sole author of this battle.
Then the power of Meath came in to aid their monarch Bryan, under
the conduct of Maelseaghlain their king, who, however, intended to
betray Bryan. For this purpose, he sent to the king of Leinster to
inform him, that Bryan had despatched his son, Donogh. at the head
of a third part of the Eugenian forces, to ravage Leinster, and that he •
and his thousand Meathmen would desert Bryan on the day of battle.
Accordingly, it was determined to attack Bryan before Donogh could
come up. He was then encamped on the plain, near Dublin, with a
smaller army than he otherwise should have had. His opponents formed
themselves into three divisions : the first consisting of a thousand North-
men, covered with coats of mail from head to foot, and commanded by
Carolus and Anrud, two Norwegian princes ; and the Danes of Dub-
lin, under Dolat and Conmael. The second division consisted of
Lagenians, about nine thousand strong, commanded by their king,
Maelmordha MacMorogh ; and under him several minor princes, such
as MacTuathal or Toole, of the Liffey territory, the prince of Hy-
Falgy (Ophaly), together with a large body of the Danes. The third
division was formed of the Northmen, collected from the islands, from
Scotland, &c. ; it was commanded by Loder, earl of the Orkneys, and
Broder, admiral of the fleet, which had brought the auxiliary North-
men to Ireland. Bryan was not dismayed by this mighty force ; and,
depending on Providence and the bravery of his troops, prepared for
battle, dividing his troops likewise into three divisions ; one to oppose
the enemy's first division, under his son Morogh, who had along with
him his son Torlogh, and a select body of the brave Dalcassians, be-
sides four other sons of Bryan — Teige, Donald, Connor, and Flan —
and various chieftains, Douchnan, &c., &c., &c., together with a body
of men from Conmaicne-mara, a western part of Ireland, under Car-
nan their chief. To this division Maelseachlain was ordered to join
his followers. Over the division which was to fight the second of the
enemy, Bryan placed Kian and Donald, two princes of the Eugenian
line, under whom were the forces of Desmond, and other parts of the
south of Ireland, viz., Mothla, son of Faelan, king of the Desies ; Mur-
tough, son of Amnchadha, lord of Hy-Liathan; Scanlan, son of Ca-
thal, &c., &c., &c. The division opposed to the third of their antagonists,
consisted chiefly of Connacians, commanded by Teige O' Conor, as
chief, under whom were Mulroney O'Heyne, chief of Aidhne; Teige
O'Kelley, king of Hy-maine ; O'Doyle, &c., &c.

" The Northmen, who had arrived, under Broder, at Dublin, on
Palm-Sunday, A. ». 1014, insisted on the battle being fought on Good
Friday, which fell on the 23d of April — a day on which, by reason of
its sanctity, Bryan would have wished to avoid fighting; yet he was
determined to defend himself, even on that day; and, holding the
crucifix in his left hand, and his sword in the right, rode with his son,
Morogh, through the ranks, and addressed them as follows, as we read
in the Annals of Inisfallen, under the year 1014: —

BRYAN BOEU.

167

" ' Be not dismayed because that my son, Donogh, with the third part
of the Momonian forces, is absent from you, for they are plundering
Leinster and the Danish territories. Long have the men of Ireland
groaned under the tyranny of these sea-faring pirates ! the murderers
of your kings and chieftains! plunderers of your fortresses! profane
destroyers of the churches and monasteries of God ! who have trampled
upon, and committed to the fla'mes, the relics of his saints /' — (and raising
his voice) — ' May the Almighty God, through his great mercy, give you
strength and courage this day to put an end for ever to the Lochlu-
nian tyranny in Ireland, and to revenge upon them their many per-
fidies, and their profanation of the sacred edifices dedicated to his wor-
ship— this day on which Jesus Christ himself suffered death for your
redemption? ' So saying,' continue the Annals, ' he showed them the
symbol of the bloody sacrifice in his left hand, and his golden-hilted
sword in his right, declaring that he was willing to lose his life in so
just and honourable a cause; and he proceeded toward the centre to
lead on his troops to action; but the chiefs of the army, with one
voice, requested he would retire from the field of battle, on account of
his great age, and leave to his eldest son, Morogh, the chief com-
mand.

" At sunrise in the morning, the signal for battle was given; but,
at this very critical moment, Maelseachlain, finding an opportunity
of being in some measure revenged of Bryan, retired suddenly from
the scene of action with his thousand Meathmen, and remained an in-
active spectator during the whole time of the battle, without joining
either side.

" This defection certainly rendered the division of the monarch's
army very unequal in numbers to that of the enemy's which they were
appointed to engage with ; but Morogh, with great presence of mind,
cried out to his brave Dalcassians, ' that this was the time to distin-
guish themselves, as they alone would have the unrivalled glory of
cutting off that formidable body of the enemy.'

" And now, whilst the Dalcassians were closely engaged with bat-
tle-axe, sword, and dagger, the second division, under the command of
the king of Connaught, hastened to engage the Danes of Leinster and
their insular levies; whilst the troops of South Munster attacked
Maelmordha and his degenerate Lagenians. Never was greater in-
trepidity, perseverance, or animosity, displayed in any other battle than
in this, as every thing depended on open force and courage. The situa-
tion of the ground admitted of no ambuscades, and none were used;
they fought man to man and breast to breast, and the victors in one
rank fell victims in the next. The commanders, on both sides, per-
formed prodigies of valour. Morogh, his son Torlogh, his brethren
and kindred, flew from place to place, and everywhere left the san-
guinary traces of their courage. The slaughter committed by Morogh
excited the fury of Carolus and Conmael, two Danes of distinction ;
they attacked him in conjunction, and both fell by his sword. Sitric,
the son of Loder, observed that Morogh and other chiefs retired from
the battle more than twice, and, after each return, seemed to be pos-
sessed of double vigour ; — it was to quench their thirst, and cool their
hands, swelled from the violent use of the sword and battle-axe, in a,n

168 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

adjoining well, over which a guard of twelve men were placed. This
the Danes soon destroyed.

" On rejoining his troops the last time, Sitric, the son of Loder,
with a body of Danes, was making a fresh attack on the Dalcassians,
and him Morogh singled out, and, with a blow of his battle-axe, divided
his body in two, through his armour! The other Irish commanders
in like manner distinguished themselves, though their exploits are not
so particularly narrated ; and it would seem, from the number of prime
quality that fell on both sides, that the chiefs everywhere attacked
each other in single combat.

" The issue of the day remained doubtful until near four o'clock in
the afternoon; and then it was that the Irish made so general an
attack on the enemy, that its force was not to be resisted. Destitute
of leaders, and consequently in disorder, the Danes gave way on every
side. Morogh, at this time, through the violent exertion of his right
arm, had both hand and arm so pained, as to be unable to lift them up.
In this condition he was attacked by Anrudh the son of Ebhric ; but
Morogh, closing in upon him, seized him with the left hand, shook him
out of his coat of mail, and, prostrating him, pierced him with his
sword by leaning with his breast upon it, and pressing upon it with
the weight of his body. In this dying situation of Anrudh, he never-
theless seized the skeine (scymiter) which hung by Morogh's side, and
with it gave him, at the same instant, a mortal wound! The Dane
expired on the spot; but Morogh lived until next morning, when he
made his confession and received the sacrament.

'* The confusion became general through the Danish army, and they
fled on every side. Laidin, the servant of Bryan, observing the con-
fusion, feared that the imperial army was defeated. He hastily entered
the tent of Bryan, who was on his knees before a crucifix, and requested
that he would immediately take a horse and flee. ' No,' said Bryan,
' it was to conquer or die I came here ; but do you and my other atten-
dants take my horses to Armagh, and communicate my will to the
successor of St Patrick: — That I bequeath my soul to God, my body
to Armagh, and my blessing to my son Donogh. Give two hundred
cows to Armagh along with my body; and go directly to Swords of
Columbkille, and order them to come for my body to-morrow and con-
duct it to Duleck of St Kiaran, and let them convey it to Lowth ;
whither let Maelmurry, the son of Eochy Comharb of St Patrick, come
with the family of Armagh, and convey it to their cathedral.'

" ' People are coming towards us,' says the servant. ' What sort of
people are they ?' says Bryan. ' Green naked people,' says the servant.
' They are the Danes in armour,' says Bryan; and he rose from his
pillow, seized his sword, and stood to await the approach of Broder
and some of his followers, and he saw no part of him without armour,
except his eyes and his feet. Bryan raised his hand, and gave him a
blow, with which he cut off his left leg from the knee, and the
right from the ankle ; but Broder's axe met the head of Bryan and
fractured it. Bryan, however, with all the fury of a dying warrior,
beheaded Broder, and killed a second Dane by whom he was attacked,
and then gave up the ghost.

" From the vast number of chiefs who fell, we may form some idea

BRYAN BORTJ. 169

ot' the carnage on both sides. On the monarch's side, besides him-
self, were slain Morogh, with two of his brothers, and his grandson,
Turlogh; his nephew, Conang; the chiefs of Corca Baisgin, of Fer-
moy, of Coonach, of Kerry-Luacha, of Eoganacht Locha Leiu, of Hy-
Conaill Gabhra, of Hy-Neachach Mumhan, of the Desies, &c., fell
in this battle; as did the Connaught prince, O'Kelly of Hy- Maine,
O'Heyne, and many others.

" The great stewards of Leamhne (Lennox) and Mar, with other
brave Albanian Scots, the descendants of Core, king of Munster, died
in the same cause.

" On the side of the enemy there fell Maelmordha, the cause of all
this blood, with the princes of Hy-Failge (Ophaly), of Magh-Liffe,
and almost all the chiefs of Leinster, with three thousand of their
bravest troops. Of the Danes, besides their principal officers, there
fell 14,000 men. The thousand men that wore coats of mail are said
to have been all cut to pieces.

" The Danes were routed and pursued to their ships, and as far as
the gates of Dublin. The surviving foreigners took an eternal fare-
well of the country, and the Irish Danes returned to Dublin."

That this was a real and great victory is attested in the Annals of
Inisfallen, under the year 1014, as also in the Annals of the Four
Masters and of Ulster; yet Sir James Ware, in his Antiquities of
Ireland, chap, xxiv., has some doubts on this point, as if, towards the
end, the Danes became uppermost. But the Scandinavian account of
this sanguinary battle, w*hich was, long after, famous throughout
Europe, is sufficient to remove this doubt. The Niala Saga, in John-
stone, Antiquitates Celto-Scandiccs, has a curious account of this battle ;
in which the Northmen are represented as flying in all directions, and
large parties of them totally destroyed. And in the Chronicle of
Ademar, monk of St Eparchius of Angouleme, this battle is repre-
sented as even greater than it really was ; for it is said, that all the
Northmen were killed, and, it is added, that crowds of their women
threw themselves into the sea. Yet it is true, that of some of their
divisions not a man was left alive. Ademar makes the battle last
three days, but this does not agree with other accounts.

In the Niala Saga, above-mentioned, a northern prince is intro-
duced as asking, some time after the battle, what had become of his
men? The answer was, that they were all killed. This seems to
allude to the division in the coats of mail, which, as we are told in the
Annals of Inisfallen, were all cut to pieces!

The body of Bryan, according to his will, was conveyed to Armagh.
First, the clergy of Swords, in solemn procession, brought it to their
abbey; from thence, the next morning, the clergy of Damliag (Du-
leek) conducted it to the church of St Kiaran. Here the clergy of
Lowth (Lughmach) attended the corpse to their own monastery. The
archbishop of Armagh, with his suffragans and clergy, received the
body at Lowth, whence it was conveyed to their cathedral. For
twelve days and nights it was watched by the clergy, during which
time there was a continued scene of prayers and devotions ; and then
it was interred with great funeral pomp at the north side of the
altar of the great church. The body of Morogh, with the heads of

170 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

Conang, and Faelan prince of the Desies, were deposited in the south
aisle of that church ; but his grandson, Turlogh, and most of the other
chiefs, were interred at the monastery of Kilmainham.*

MALACHY.

A. D. 950—1022.

THE death of Bryan, and of his heroic son, left the conclusion of this
decisive day to Malachy, whose history may be taken up and concluded
from the event which once more restored him to his rights.

It is already known to the reader, that about thirty-four years pre-
vious to the period of his life at which we are now arrived, Malachy
succeeded King Domnal in the monarchy of Ireland; nor will it be
forgotten, that soon after his accession, he gained a signal and deci-
sive victory over the Danes, in the battle of Tara, which is said to
have lasted three days without interruption. This achievement was
made illustrious by the '• noble proclamation " by which it was fol-
lowed:— "Let all the Irish who are now suffering servitude in the
lands of the stranger, return now to their several homes, and enjoy
themselves in gladness and peace." Among the captives released on
this occasion were Domnal, king of Leinster, and O'Niell, prince of
Tyrone.

With this glorious opening, the general, character and conduct of

* The following just notice of Bryan's character and policy, is from Mr Moore's
History : —

" In estimating the character of Bryan Boru, it will be found that there are three
distinct points of view in which he stands forth prominently to the eye, namely, as
a great warrior, a successful usurper, and a munificent friend to the church. In
the attributes belonging to him, under these three several aspects, are to be found
the main as well as subsidiary sources of his fame. The career of Bryan, as a
military leader, appears to have been uniformly, with one single exception, success-
ful ; and, from the battle of Sulchoid to that of Cloutarf, his historians number no
less than fifty great battles, in which he bore away the palm of victory from the
Northmen and their allies.

" In his usurpation of the supreme power, he was impelled evidently by motives
of selfish ambition ; nor could he have entailed any more ruinous evil upon the
country, than by thus setting an example of contempt for established rights, and
thereby weakening, in the minds of the people, that habitual reverence for ancient
laws and usages, which was the only security afforded by the national character for
the preservation of public order and peace. The fatal consequences of this step,
both moral and political, will be found but too strikingly evolved in the subsequent
history. Attempts have been made to lend an appearance of popular sanction to
his usurpation, by the plausible pretence that it was owing to the solicitation of
the states and princes of Connaught, that he was induced to adopt measures for
the deposition of Malachy. In like manner, to give to this step some semblance
of concert and deliberation, we are told of a conventior of the princes of the king-
dom held at Dundalk, preliminary to the assumption of the monarchy, and con-
voked in contemplation of that step.

" But the truth is, for none of these supposed preparatives of his usurpation, is
there the slightest authority in any of our records ; and the convention held at
Dundealga, or Dundalk, so far from being a preliminary measure, did not take
place till after the * first rebellion,' as it is styled by our annalists, of the king of
Munster against the monarch." — Moore's Hist.

MALACHY.

171

Malachy concurred to raise expectation; and all things seemed to an-
nounce the beginning1 of a prosperous and illustrious reign. He was
considered by the kings and princes of the island, to be among the
most powerful and wisest monarchs that ever sat upon the Irish throne ;
and his whole conduct through life, until one equivocal occurrence
which has clouded his fame with a dark suspicion, was such as to
maintain his pretensions to his title of "the Great." But his virtue,
power, and success, unhappily fell under the influence of an evil com-
bination of events ; and have left a striking illustration of the power
of circumstance, and the feebleness of human strength. We have, in
our life of Bryan, been obliged to anticipate the series of reverses
which terminated in the deposition of this great warrior and king,
and shall not now repeat them. After the battle of Clontarf, he comes
again upon the scene of events after an interval of some years ; but
with diminished lustre, and a taint upon his honour, which they who have
attempted his vindication, have not found means to remove. Looking
attentively to the facts and the reasons on either side, we have only
succeeded in arriving at the conclusion — that much may be said, and
nothing proved, on either side. As this question is now to be regarded
as the principal interest of the remainder of Malachy's career, we shall
not hesitate to pause upon it : and though, like the " anarch old," in
Milton's poem, it may be thought that our decision " more embroils
the fray" — being able to reach no conclusion — we shall impart the
benefit of our doubts. .

It has already been stated in the account of the battle of Clontarf,
that as soon as the engagement had commenced, Malachy withdrew
from the field with his provincial troops, and remained inactive until
the termination of the fight. This defection, upon such an occasion,
could scarcely escape from the malignity or justice of imputation.
Mr Moore treats the story with contempt, on the strong ground of
Malachy's previous reputation; on the less tenable ground of its
wanting authority ; and on the utterly inconclusive ground of his sub-
sequent conduct on the termination of the day, when Bryan having
been slain, he assumed the command, and completed the victory.*
The first of these reasons we admit in the fullest extent to which such
a principle can be admitted in estimating human conduct; the second
can scarcely be maintained against the Annals of Inisfallen, and the
contemporary writer whose account we have given at length; the
third has positively no weight. Any inference in Malachy's favour,
from his conduct after the battle, is destroyed by the consideration,
that the contrary conclusion is perfectly reconcilable wilh the same
facts. The discomfiture of Bryan and his sons was the most probable
means of restoring Malachy, especially if favoured by the support of the
conquerors. But a still more favourable means of promoting the same
main object, was precisely that which, by a favourable conjunction of
circumstances, took place ; and there was but one way of meeting it.
His guilt yet undivulged ; his rival swept from his path ; a conquering
army under his command, and a glorious victory throwing a splendid
reflection on his character ; — there was none either to accuse him or to

* Moore's Hist. ii. 108. 138.

172

MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

claim his pledge. In the turn of the fight, his vigorous reinforcement
•would be likely to meet all questions, or silence all objectors whom
the fate of the field had not quelled. In the confusion of a wide-spread
field of slaughter, it is little known to any but the leaders, who is
present or absent from the field; and a temporary secession would
appear but as a prudent reserve, kept for a decisive onset, and then
effecting its work: the assumption of a monarch's power would silence
the detractor's tongue. But the same conditions, which would have
facilitated and concealed the base manoeuvre here supposed, may have
also, in some degree, it must be admitted, have favoured the still baser
and less excusable whisper of calumny. The action of Malachy was
equivocal : it might be treachery, it might be a politic reserve, it may
have been a movement preconcerted with Bryan; he may have with-
held his forces, first for the usual purposes of a reserve, and then from
seeing they were not wanting. And on such a supposition, it is far
from impossible that Malachy's prudent reserve, perhaps preconcerted
with the leader, might be misrepresented as the fulfilment of a treach-
erous understanding with the enemy ; and that the surviving family of
Bryan might, either by error or design, have been led to devise
or listen to a surmise, injurious to an ancient rival, who was now to
gain the ascendant over their family by the very event which should
be the most crowning and glorious consummation of its fortune.
Looking to the facts, we cannot detect the slightest inclination in the
balance of judgment. Looking to mere policy, the keen and long-
continued rivalship — the injury, and humiliation more galling than
injury, sustained at his rival's hands — the favourable chance of the
occasion, and the strong impulses of ambition and jealousy, with
the long-suppressed workings of vindictive feeling, and the alleged
treason, seems to be a result naturally suggested in the perusal of
the history. But the whole of this nefarious web of baseness is so
inconsistent with all that can be authentically known of Malachy's
character, that, on this ground alone, we must reject it as the well-
conceived slander of a rival or an enemy. The baseness imputed is
of the lowest stamp, and involves all that is degrading in human
character; it is far below the level to which a generous mind and an
elevated understanding can easily stoop. Malachy stood high above
the betrayer's class; and, though human virtue is fallible, such an
inversion of feelings is not to be presumed on grounds which admit
of a more natural explanation. On the force of this argument — one
rather to be felt than clearly understood — we must consider the
question to rest. Let not the reader charge us with needless digres-
sion, to arrive at so slight an inference: it is no less than the ques-
tion, whether this renowned warrior is to be regarded as a hero or a
knave.

A more impressive proof perhaps of this conclusion, is the prompt
and unquestioning assent of the native princes to Malachy's re-assump-
tion of the monarchical crown. His first act was the vigorous prose-
cution of the victory which had been just obtained. The blow so
fatal to the Danish power, was followed up by an attack on their
stronghold in Dublin, of which he destroyed the greater part.

Although the result of the battle of Clontarf was the complete

MALACHY. 173

subversion of the powerful ascendancy which their wealth and arms
had been for a long time acquiring in the confused politics of the
country, still this brave and persevering people were reluctant to let
go their hold of a country so favourable to the acquisition of wealth.
In the next year, they obtained strong reinforcements, and renewed
their predatory inroads, by an expedition into Carlow, then known by
the name of Hy-Kinselagh. They were once more interrupted in
their course by a successful attack from Malachy, who routed them
with considerable slaughter.

In this year also, a most ill-timed cruelty was the means of drawing
down another signal and decisive blow upon their declining state.
The fierce Sitric, under the irritation caused by repeated humiliations,
caused his recent ally, the prince of Leinster, to be deprived of sight.
The people of Leinster rose up against the cruel and ungrateful
tyrant, and gained a destructive victory over his forces at Delgany.

The spirit of the native princes when relieved from the firm coercion
of Bryan's ascendant policy, and extricated from the constant fear of
Danish incursions, soon began to blaze forth with its wonted and
characteristic energy. Dissension among themselves, and insubordi-
nation to the monarch, soon began to show themselves in every quarter.
The military promptitude of Malachy was displayed in the valour and
efficiency with which he checked revolts and encroachments among
his restless tributaries. In 1016, he obtained hostages from the
Ulster princes. In the following year he met the Danes again, and
defeated them at Othba.

There is a sameness in the repetition of the same featureless events.
They convey nothing to the mind more than may be conveyed by the
expression of their sum. Among the numerous successes of the same
nature, Malachy gained an important victory over the O'Nealls of the
North — and received hostages from the princes of Connaught.

" In approaching," writes Mr Moore, " the close of this eminent
prince's career, it should not be forgotten, among his other distinguished
merits, that unlike the greater part of those chieftains who flourished
in what may be called the Danish period, he never, in any one instance,
sullied his name by entering into alliance with the foreign spoilers of
his country: and as the opening year of his reign had been rendered
memorable hy a great victory over the Danes, so, at the distance of
near half a century, his closing hours were cheered by a triumph over
the same restless but no longer formidable foe." Without entering to
the full extent into Mr Moore's views of the patriotism of Malachy or
of his age, we think that the fact observed in the above extract, is the
most authentic justification of Malachy to be found in his history. His
enmity to the Danes appears to assume, in his character, that consistent
ascendancy which belongs to a man's characteristic habits only ; and
against the violation of which there is always a prima facie probability,
which must repel conjectural affirmations to the contrary.

In the year 1022, he obtained another glorious and decisive victory
over the Danes at Athboy, then called the Yellow Ford. Immediately
after the battle, feeling the approach of death, he retired to a small
island upon the Lake-Aumin in Meath; where, resigning himself to
death, he spent his last moments in devotion. His deathbed was

174 MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

cheered and alleviated by the attendance of tbe three Comorbans, suc-
cessors of St Patrick, Columba, and Ciaran, and illustrated by acts
of public charity, which have been celebrated by the poets of his time.
His last act was the institution of a foundation for the support of 300
orphan children, to be selected from all the chief cities in Ireland.*

DONCHAD O'BRIEN.

A. D. 10G4.

WITH Malachy the civil history and biography of his period, might
legitimately be terminated. We shall, nevertheless, more fully com-
plete this portion of our task, by following the family of O'Brien along
the brief remainder of its course.

The day after the battle, Donchad, who it will be remembered had
been detached on a predatory expedition, returned laden with spoil to
Kilmainham. He was here met by a demand of hostages from Cian,
who asserted his claim to the throne of Munster, by the right of alter-
nate succession, recognised among the branches of the Eugenian and
Dalcassian families. This Donchad refused to admit — usurpation
founded on the right of arms had gained the splendid sanction of his
father's reign. The contention was, however, appeased by Clan's
cousin and colleague in command, who perhaps, seeing the inutility of
pressing his claim, contrived to withdraw him from the camp. Don-
chad marched his enfeebled army towards Munster. Reaching Ossory,
he was met by its prince, Macgilla Patrick, who refused to allow him
to proceed through his territory, unless on the condition of submission
to his sovereignty: at the same time insolently menacing the alterna-
tive of a battle. To this menace — which under the circumstances was
base and cowardly — the brave son of Bryan replied, by selecting the
more honourable but most dangerous alternative. " Never was it yet
said, within the memory of man, that a prince of the race of Bryan, had
given hostages to a Macgilla Patrick." He now prepared for a battle
which has been consecrated to poetry, by the affecting heroism of which
it was the occasion.')' Donchad, like a humane leader, was about to
make an arrangement for the safety of the numerous men who had been
wounded at Clontarf — by allotting the duty of protecting them to a select
band of his bravest men. The wounded soldiers would not consent to
be protected at the expense of so dangerous a sacrifice of strength. "Let

* Moore ii. 140.

•} Few of our readers will fail to recollect Mr Moore's spirited stanza : —
•' Forget not our wounded companions who stood

In the day of distress by our side ;
While the moss of the valley grew red with their blood,

They stirred not, but conquered and died !
The sun, that now blesses our arms with his light,

Saw them fall upon Ossory "s plain 1
Oh ! let him not blush, when he leaves us to-night,
To find that they fell there in vain !"

Irish Melodies.

DONCHAD O'BRIEN. 175

there be stakes fixed in the ground," was their spirited and noble reply,
"and to each of these let one of us be firmly tied, holding our swords in
our hands." The strange expedient was adopted. The effect was just
such as the reader will be likely -to anticipate upon brave men, who
could feel the situation in its full force. Surprise, compassion, and
involuntary awe, arrested the ranks of Ossory, as they approached this
mingled front, and marked the calm and stern aspect, which bespoke
the determined resistance of those who were prepared to die. The
chief of Ossory had the sagacity to perceive an impression which
might damp the power of his onset — and to respect the calm despera-
tion which would make the most dangerous resistance : and drawing
off his army suffered the troops of Donchad to continue on their
march.

Donchad's life offers little more worth gleaning by the biographer.
Sharing with his brother Teige the throne of Munster, he was ere
long involved in a contest with him. A desperate and destructive
battle was followed by a reconciliation of doubtful sincerity and short
continuance. It was soon interrupted by some new broil — and Don-
chad contrived to have his brother murdered, by which he secured
the entire sovereignty of Munster to himself: and reigned for several
years in considerable prosperity.

His crime, however, was ripening for punishment. Tirlogh, the
son of the murdered prince, at length contrived to raise a force against
him. After a struggle, which lasted some years, and was marked by
repeated defeats and humiliations, Donehad O'Brien surrendered the
Munster throne to Tirlogh, and retired to Rome ; where, having en-
tered into the monastery of St Stephen, he died in 1064. There is a
tradition, scarcely deserving of credit, that he brought the crown of
Ireland to Rome, and, according to a custom not very unusual in that
age of ignorant superstition, laid it at the pope's feet. Mr Moore
repels the assertion on three grounds, viz., there not being in our annals
any mention of the act, and this we think enough to discredit it: as
for the grounds that Donchad had not the crown of Ireland in his
possession, there can be no assurance of the matter — if there was a
crown, it had been in the possession, and may have remained among
the treasures of his father. But the last objection has an interest in-
dependent of its decisive weight, if admitted. Mr Moore remarks, that
antiquaries have doubted the existence of any sort of crown among
the ancient Irish kings. " It is said by Hector Boetius, that the kings
of Scotland, from the time of Fergus their first king to the reign of
Achaius, who died in 819, wore a plain crown of gold in the form of
a military palisade. It is no improbable conjecture that they imitated
their ancestors, the Irish kings, Fergus being of that race. This con-
jecture receives some strength from a golden crown, which, in the year
1692, was dug out of a bog on the top of a hill, called Barnanely, or
the Devil's Bit, in the county of Tipperary, which is supposed to have
been a crown belonging to some provincial king. It weighed about
five ounces. The border and the head were raised in chasework, and
seems to bear a resemblance to the close crown of the Eastern em-
pire, which was composed of the helmet and diadem. It is uot unrea-
sonable to suspect that this crown is of great antiquity, and that it

176

MONARCHS TO THE NORMAN INVASION.

belonged to some Irish king, who reigned before the planting of
Christianity in Ireland; because it is destitute of any ornament of the
cross, which was the usual ensign of Christian princes, at least from
the time of Constantino the great. It fell into the hands of one Mr
Comerford, who carried it into France, where it is supposed to remain
among his descendants. The royal ornament for the head, both of the
provincial kings and queens and of the supreme monarch of Ireland,
was anciently called asion, pronounced in one syllable asn, and was of
gold ; perhaps it was so called from the word assain, which signifies
plates, as being composed of several foldings or ribs of that metal. It
was afterwards applied in a religious sense to signify the reliques of
the saints ; and in process of time the word asion and coroin, a crown,
came to be promiscuously used one for the other. It is related in the
Irish histories, that eight years before the birth of Christ, Fergusius
Ilogius the deposed king of Ulster, and Maud queen of Connaught,
marched an army into Cu'ailgne, a territory so called in the county of
Louth, and from thence drove an immense booty of cattle ; which action
has been ever since remarked under the name of Tain-bo Cuailgne, i. e.
the herd or drove of cattle of Cuailgne. The queen is said, in this ex-
pedition, to have marched in an open chariot, surrounded by four other
chariots, so disposed as to keep the bands of horsemen at a distance from
her, ' that the dust and foam of the horses should not stain the golden
asion with which her head was encircled,' A. D. 1 74. The queen of
Cathoir-Mor, king of Ireland, had her golden asion stolen from her at
the convention of Tarah; but Hugh Ward, an antiquary of great re-
putation, tells us, 'that all the kings of Ireland in battle, and other
public solemnities, appeared crowned with a diadem. In the me-
morable battle of Clontarf, Brien Boroimhe, monarch of Ireland, fell
by the hands of the Danes, being discovered by the royal crown on
his head. Some writers affirm, that many of the family of the O'Briens
were, with great solemnity, created kings of Ireland, and crowned with
a golden crown. And in particular, we read in the Irish histories that
Donat O'Brien, son to the said Brien Boroimhe, in the year 1065,
undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, and carried with him the royal
crown of his ancestors. What Cassaneus says may add some weight
to these instances, where he gives, for the ancient arms of the kings
of Ireland, a king holding a golden lily, and sitting in majesty in a
black field. For what can be understood by a king sitting in majesty,
but sitting on his royal throne, and adorned with his crown and other
ensigns of majesty?"* Similar crowns, have been found in other parts
of Ireland, of somewhat greater weight, but none of them have been
preserved-! To ourselves, there seems to be much internal evidence,
in the ancient Irish history, for the existence of the crown. A race
conspicuous for the love of all that belongs to external state — early
possessed of golden ornaments — of the half refinement that would omit
no circumstance of royal exterior, and having knowledge enough to
be aware that the crown was one of the principal : we should consider
it the height of absurdity to imagine (unless the crown were proved

* Ware's Antiquities,
t This crown is also described in the Preface to Keating's History.

DERMOD MACMURRAGH.

to liave had no existence till a later period, which will not be asserted),
that the stately barbarians who called themselves kings — spoke bog
Latin, exacted homage, hostages and tribute, from whole provinces, and
loaded altars with costly offerings — wore no crowns — sat on no thrones
— wielded no sceptres, and did not play at kings to the utmost extent
they had the power or means. Such questions do not exclusively rest
on the evidence of remains, — we must also admit the common evidence
of nature's laws in the human breast.

THE CONQUEST.

DERMOD MACMURRAQH.

KING OF LEINSTEE. A. O. 1150.

DERMOD MACMURRAGH is generally represented in an odious light,
by the historians of this period. His father had the reputation of a
cruel and barbarous tyrant; he is said to have seized on seventeen
of his chief nobility, some of whom he murdered, and the rest he
deprived of sight. The son inherited his father's cruelty, and proba-
bly improved this inheritance by vices of his own. His chieftains
were oppressed by his robberies and civil invasions of their rights and
personal immunities. The church, however, was conciliated by his
politic liberality ; and the lower classes, who were, as is ever found, the
indiscriminating instruments of the wrong-doer, were the grateful de-
pendants of his protection and bounty, and the admirers of his personal
qualifications. These were such as ever secure the admiration of the
ignorant : stature, strength, and personal bravery ; and a rude, gross,
and violent deportment. He was noted for the hoarseness acquired
by a habit of constant vociferation ; from which we may infer that the
repulsiveness of his character was heightened by frequent irritability,
and furious excesses of passion on slight occasions, Many of these
personal defects are probably concealed by the partial hand of his
friendly biographer, Maurice O'Regan, from whom our most trust-
worthy authority is derived.

Such a character had nevertheless attraction for the lady Devorgoil,
daughter of the prince of Meath, and wife of O'Ruark, the prince of
Brefni (Leinster?) who was neither deterred by the coarseness of his
person and manner, the vices of his character, or by his cruelty against
her injured husband. Between Dermod and the prince of Brefni, a
keen and bitter animosity had long subsisted. It was perhaps aggra-

i. M Ir.

178

THE CONQUEST.

vated by vindictive passion on one side, and jealousy on the other; for
it is said that before her marriage with O'lluark, a passion between
Dermod and herself had been mutually felt and communicated. The
eager contention for power was at all events sufficient occasion for
the fierce hostility of the base Dermod.

A truce between the two leading potentates of the north and west,
O'Connor and O'Lochlin, happened at this time : one of its consequences,
traced to the instigation of Dermod, was the expulsion of O'Ruark
from his territory, The enterprise was undertaken by Dermod, in
league with Tirlogh O'Connor. Resistance was of little avail: the
unfortunate prince of Brefni was ejected. But the immediate con-
sequence with which our narrative is concerned, was the injury to
which so much importance in the history of Ireland has been given,
in tale and song ; the abduction of the fair Devorgoil. For this shame-
ful purpose Dermod took advantage of the extremity of his enemy's
misfortunes, and inflicted upon him one which may be generally felt to
be a greater misery than all. Something, however, will be sub-
tracted from the amount of the reader's pity, in consideration of the
unworthy participation of the princess. In the anxiety of ambitious
contrivances, and the hurry of armed aggression, a message from the
lady reminded the licentious king of Leinster, that softer interests
were to be pursued, and that however willing, the fame of the object
of his guilty love was to be consulted by the appearance of violence.
Hanmer, under the veil of some Latin sentences, gives a disgusting
picture of the character of Devorgoil, and one not less gross of the
rude and indecent contentions between herself and her husband. He
concludes his account of this transaction by saying, that " O'Rorie
(O'Ruark), being in pursuit of thieves and kernes that had mightily
annoyed his people in the farthest part of his country — she, with all
celerity, supposing it a fit time, sent for her lover, Dermot. The
message was no sooner delivered, but he was a-horseback, posting to
the harlot. To be short, he took her away with him; at which time
(O false heart!) she struggled, she cried, as though she were unwill-
ing." This incident had place in 1 153, thirteen years before the great
events with which, by the industrious romance of poets and chroni-
clers, it has been so often forcibly connected. The error has been
universally noticed by the most intelligent historians of modern date,
from the clear and authentic Leland to Mr Moore, who, having faith-
fully discharged the devoir of the poet, in his song, too well known
for quotation here* — has, in his Irish History, no less honourably
performed the opposite office of a veracious historian in exposing the
figment of the poet.

The outrage soon brought down vengeance on the guilty Dermod.
The prince of Brefni, enraged at the insult, though perhaps regardless
of the lady, carried his complaint to Tirlogh O'Connor; and backed
his application with representations still more likely to be persuasive.
The crime of Dermod might, according to the loose notions and un-
settled principles of a barbarous state of society, be looked on with

* Every reader will at once recollect Mr Moore's singularly beautiful and affect-
ing version of this incident among his melodies.

DEBMOD MACMURKAGH. 179

indulgence, in tlie friendly shelter of which every chief might feel
an individual interest. But Tirlogh was, by the suppliant chief of
Brefni, induced to look on Dermod as treacherous to his paramount
authority, and devoted to the service of his rival O'Lochlin, For
himself, O'Ruark promised inviolable attachment.

The position of O'Connor made such an accession to his friends
desirable. He was in possession of the monarchy; but his claim was
disputed by O'Lochlin, the heir of the northern Hy-Niall house, to
whom he had been compelled to make large concessions ; so that, in
point of fact, the kingdom, and the kingly power, were divided between
these two rival princes. Under such circumstances, perpetual jealousy
and frequent collision were necessary results; and each party must
have maintained a constant vigilance, both to prevent surprises, and
seize upon such advantages as might offer. By such a powerful com-
bination of motives, O'Connor allowed himself to be won to the redress
of the injured O'Ruark. He collected a formidable army and entered
the territories of the king of Leinster ; who, being ill-supported by his
lukewarm and disapproving chiefs, was little capable of resistance.
The faithless and abandoned Devorgilla, torn from her guilty paramour,
was restored to her husband's house ; where she remained for the rest
of her days in peace, and preserved a blameless life. It may be infer-
red, from the laxity of the age, that she was reinstated in the little of
domestic regard or honour, to which her character had ever any claim ;
and it is said, that she manifested a remorseful sense of her crimes, by
the " usual method of magnificent donations to the church."

Some popular writers have attached to this incident an importance
to which it has no claim; following the authority of Giraldus, they
have traced the invasion of Ireland by the Normans, to the infidelity of
this " degenerate daughter of Erin,"* and thus corrupted history with
a legend more adapted to the purpose to which Mr Moore has so
admirably applied it, than sanctioned by truth. The incident here
related took place in 1154; while the flight of Dermod into England
was at least fourteen years later, in 1 168. In this long interval many
violent changes of fortune occurred to the rival chiefs and the rival
princes, by whom they were alternately depressed and raised ; and the
subsequent facts of his history, will sufficiently account for Dermod's
eventful action.

Tirlogh's protection cemented a firm alliance between him and
O'Ruark, of which the consequences were severely felt by Dermod.
His chiefs were in a condition of perpetual discontent ; their passions
were tampered with, and dexterously fermented into a state bordering
upon rebellion against his authority. Of this his enemies availed
themselves.

For two years he was thus harassed with incessant anxiety and ex-
ertion; after which he was to have his turn of triumph and revenge
for a season. In 1156, the death of Tirlogh O'Connor made way for
his rival to the monarchy of Ireland. Dermod was on terms of the
strictest amity with O'Lochlin, and was the foremost to assert his
right and acknowledge his authority. His zeal was recompensed by

* Moore's Irish Melodies.

180 THE CONQUEST.

an exertion of his royal ally, which, for a time established his peace-
ful sway. O'Lochlin's first act was to march an army to his assist-
ance, and secure his authority in Leinster. His revenge was now
provided for. During1 the reign of O'Lochlin, the prince of Leitrim
was allowed no rest from aggressions and insults, to which his means
of resistance were quite unequal.

For about ten years things remained thus; but, in the year 1167,
the hour of retribution came. O'Lochlin, in defiance of all principles
of humanity and justice, seized on the prince of Uladh, with whom he
had just concluded a treaty, and, with the most barbarous cruelty, de-
prived him of sight. The surrounding chiefs, shocked at the perfi-
dious outrage, and feeling themselves involved in the insult to their
associate, rushed into a confederacy to revenge him. The battle of
Litteriuin soon followed. O'Lochlin fell, and with him the preten-
sions of his family; the scale of the house of O'Connor again prepon-
derated, and Roderic ascended the throne of his father, Tirlogh. He
also inherited his friendships; and O'Ruarc once more found himself
in a condition to bid defiance to his inveterate and mortal foe.

Roderic was a practical warrior. His life had been spent in the
field, and he came to the throne of Ireland with considerable reputa-
tion. He lost no time in securing his fortunes. He quickly raised a
strong force, with which he marched to Dublin. There he was
solemnly inaugurated, and increased his forces by retaining in his pay
the Ostmen of Dublin. With these he marched into the North, and
awed its chieftains into tranquil submission.

Dermod was paralyzed with terror ; there was no refuge from the
black storm which hung lowering over his guilty head. His aggres-
sions had grown beyond the forgiveness of man, and his provincial
power was as a grain of dust in the scale of resistance. In the frenzy
of despair, he set fire to his royal seat and town of Ferns, that his
enemies might not obtain his spoils. His utmost apprehensions were
not beyond the real danger. Roderic, returning from the north, and
accompanied by the hostile lord of Leitrim, poured his troops over
Leinster. Dermod's chiefs propitiated the invader by submission;
and, without the satisfaction of striking a blow for himself, Dermod
was formally deposed on the dishonourable ground of utter unworthi-
ness to reign. One of his family was raised to his throne, and gave
sureties of allegiance to the paramount authority of Roderic.

Dermod was not wanting to himself in this humiliating crisis of his
affairs. He applied to former friends, and sought alliances by pro-
mises and flattery ; but mortification and insult encountered him wher-
ever he went. His chiefs had, in the first instance, universally deserted
him. The lord of Dublin and the lord of Ossory joined his enemies.
In this strait he retired to the abbey of Ferns, from whence he sent a
monk bearing a letter to Morrogh O'Brian, the lord of Wicklow, in
order to persuade him to a conference. In his impatience he followed
his messenger; and, meeting his alienated tributary in the open air,
by a wood side, was received by him with a scornful disavowal of his
authority, and a peremptory command to depart.

Thus universally repulsed, and maddened with anger and despair,
in the extremity of his distress Dermod formed a new and desperate

DEEMOD MACMUKRAGH. 181

resolution. It occurred to his infuriated mind, that there was still a
dreadful path open to revenge and redress. He sailed to Bristol,
then the ordinary point of communication between the two countries,
" having in his company no other man of marke than Awliffe O'Ki-
nade, and about sixty persons." When he arrived at Bristol, he lodged
for a time in the house of Robert Harding, at St Augustin's ; and, in
a few days, travelled to France to bring his complaint before Henry.

Henry was at this time, 1168, resident in the province of Acqui-
taine. Thither Dermod proceeded. " He appeared before the king
in a most shabby habit, suited to the wretched condition of an exile.
He fell at his majesty's feet, and emphatically bewailed his own
miseries and misfortunes. He represented the malice of his neigh-
bours and the treachery of his pretended friends; he suggested that
kings were then most like gods, when they exercised themselves in
succouring the distressed," &c. ;* and was received by the king with
the kindness and pity, which his story of wrongs seemed to call for.
It is generally agreed, that this politic prince must have been pleased
with an incident which, judiciously used, was most likely to promote
his own long-cherished designs on Ireland. His hands were, how-
ever, otherwise engaged at the time. His French nobles, secretly en-
couraged by the French king, were nearly in a state of insurrection ;
and he was, at the same time, involved in a harassing and perilous
contest with his clergy. Still resolving to avail himself, as well as he
might, of the occasion, he adopted a most wary and dexterous course.
He accepted the proffered allegiance of Dermod, and gave him a letter
of credence to his English subjects, announcing that he had taken
Dermod under his protection and favour; and granting license to
whoever of his English subjects might be disposed to aid him in the
recovery of his dominions. The advantages of this course are obvi-
ous, but they will appear in the progress of events.

Dermod returned to England elated by his success. Again he found
his way to Bristol, where he had already secured friends, and was also
likely to receive the surest intelligence of affairs in Ireland. There
arrived, he lost no time in publishing Henry's letter, and urging his
grievances, with the more substantial recommendation of promised ad-
vantages and possessions to those who should be induced to embark in
his cause. It is however thought that by this time, circumstances of
his true history had reached Bristol, and much abated the general im-
pression in his favour, which had been the effect of his previous repre-
sentations. He found every one whom he addressed cold to his urgent
representations : and after continuing for a month engaged in unavail-
ing exertion to awaken an effective sensation in his behalf, he became
weary of delay ; and thinking his cause forgotten by king Henry, he
resolved to change his course, and endeavour to engage the self-in-
terested feelings of powerful individuals. Such he found in Richard,
earl of Chepstow, commonly known by the appellation of Strongbow.
To him, he now repaired with the offer of his daughter's hand and the
succession to his kingdom of Leinster, if by his exertions his power
might be restored.

* Cox.

182

THE CONQUEST.

The proposal was embarrassing to the earl. The offer was tempting1
to his ambition — but he felt the doubtful and politic character of
Henry's conduct: he was perplexed by scrupulous objections, and wa-
vered for a considerable time. The letter of the king seemed scarcely
to warrant the magnitude of the request — that a subject of the English
crown should levy an army against a neighbouring country. Mean-
while, Dermod reiterated his offers, and with plausible amplification
set them in the most attractive prominence before the thoughts of the
ambitious earl. Strongbow suffered himself to be prevailed on — and
entered into a contract to land in Ireland in the ensuing spring, with
a large force, provided he might obtain special permission for this pur-
pose from king Henry.

Dermod now conceived his purpose secured. To return to Ireland
with the greater secrecy, he betook himself to St David's in South
Wales. Here, as in Bristol, he found a friend in the church. He was
received by the bishop with that ready hospitality and commiseration
which his munificence had earned from the ecclesiastical orders.

Here he gained two important allies in the persons of Robert Fitz-
Stephen, and his half-brother Maurice Fitz-Gerald.

Fitz-Stephen had before this been inveigled into a rebellious plot by
a Welsh chief; but, on deliberation, becoming fully aware of the crimi-
nality of the undertaking, he showed so much reluctance, that the re-
volting chief, Rice Fitz-Griffith, had him confined to prison, where at
this period he had lain for three years. He now represented to Fitz-
Griffith, that the present opportunity was one which might enable him
to pursue his own interests without opposing his designs. His en-
treaties for liberation were seconded by the bishop and Maurice Fitz-
Gerald. Fitz-Griffith yielded, and a covenant was made between Der-
mod and the brothers, by which they were to land with all their
followers in Ireland, for the furtherance of his claims, and in return
to receive from him the town of Wexford with a large adjoining tract
of land.

"Such," says Leland, "was the original scheme of an invasion, which
in the event proved of so much importance. An odious fugitive, driven
from his province by faction and revenge, gains a few adventurers in
Wales, whom youthful valour or distress of fortune led into Ireland
in hopes of some advantageous settlements. Dermod who, no doubt,
encouraged his new allies by the assurance of a powerful reinforce-
ment of his countrymen, was obliged to affect impatience to depart
and to provide for their reception. He paid his vows in the church
of St David, embarked, landed in Ireland, passed without discovery
through the quarters of his enemies, arrived at Ferns, and was enter-
tained and concealed in the monastery which he himself had erected:
waiting impatiently for the return of spring, when the English powers
were to come to his assistance."* Of this expectation, the report was
industriously spread; and while it animated the flagging zeal of his
friends and adherents, it made concealment, yet so necessary to his safety,
impossible. The crowds who flocked to receive, from their old master,
the most authentic confirmation of the news, had the dangerous effect

* Leland, i. 2 1 .

DERMOD MACMURRAGH.

183

of attracting general attention. Unable to maintain the secrecy so
much to be desired, the assumption of an attitude of defiance, or at
least of confidence, seemed to be the safer alternative. There was, at
least, a probability that nothing very decisive could be effected by his
enemies, before the arrival of the English. Under this impression, and
feeling the urgency of his friends, as well as yielding to his own im-
pulse, he assumed an attitude of defiance, and took possession of a por-
tion of his own territories.

His enemies were too alert to allow much advantage to be drawn
from this rash effort. They had been surprised by his unexpected
re-appearance in the field, and were alarmed by the report of a foreign
invasion. Roderic collected a force, and, with his trusty friend O'Ruark,
entered the territory which had thus been seized by Dermod. The
event was quickly decided. Dermod, terror-struck at the approach of
his inveterate enemies, and having no adequate means of resistance,
fled before their appearance, and with his little force concealed himself
in the woods. Here he received encouragement from the strength of
a position favourable to the action of a small party ; and summoning
resolution to maintain a front of opposition, he engaged in repeated
skirmishes with detached parties of the enemy, in which the advantage
seemed doubtful, and valuable lives were lost on both sides. This game
could not, however, be long protracted against a superior power —
and Dermod, with the facility of one to whom solemn engagements were
as idle wind, proposed to treat, offered abject submission, but im-
plored, in pity to fallen royalty, to be allowed to hold ten cantreds of
his province, in absolute dependence on king Roderic. To give the
most perfect appearance of good faith to the proposal, he offered seven
hostages to the monarch, and a hundred ounces of gold to O'Ruark,
for oblivion of past wrongs. His submission was accepted, on the
terms which he proposed. Roderic, hurried by the pressure of his
affairs in other quarters, willingly released himself from the interrup-
tion of an affair seemingly so little important, and withdrew his forces
and attention from the wily traitor, on whose conduct so much depended.

Dermod, now released from the fear of his enemies, and freshly en-
raged by his new humiliation, may well be supposed to have indulged
the anticipations of coming vengeance on the objects of his hate and
fear. But he could not also repress his eager impatience at the delay
of his English allies, nor avoid recollecting the caution and prudence
— the waverings and coldness of manner, which had so often reduced
him to despair of succour from his English acquaintance. Abandoned
to suspense, he became uncontrollably impatient ; and at last despatched
Maurice Regan, a confidential friend and dependant, in the quality of
ambassador, to hasten the coming of his allies, and if possible to in-
crease them, by active solicitations and liberal promises.

The English knights were already advanced in their preparations.
Robert Fitz-Stephen had collected his force: thirty knights, sixty men
in armour, and 300 archers, chosen men, and, considering the nature
of the service, in themselves a formidable power, embarked early in
May, 1 169,* and came to a creek called the Bann, near Wexford city.

* Leland makes it 1 1 70 — we follow Ware.

184

THE CONQUEST.

With these also came unattended, Hervey de Montmorres, as an
emissary from his uncle earl Strongbow, — the object of his coming1 was
to inspect the circumstances of the country, and estimate the prospects
of success, for the information of the earl. This party sent notice of
their arrival to the king of Leinster, and encamped for that night on
the shore. The next morning, they were reinforced by Maurice Pren-
dergast, a brave Welshman, who, with ten knights and 200 archers,
arrived on the same landing-place.

Dermod received the summons with loud delight, and lost not an
instant in hastening to meet them. The next evening he encamped
with them at the sea-side, and the following day they marched to Wex-
ford, a distance of twelve miles. On their way, they were joined by
Dermod's illegitimate son, Donald Kavanagh, with 500 Irishmen. On
their arrival at the suburbs of the city, they were encountered by a
party of " about 2000 of the inhabitants." The inhabitants of Wex-
ford were descendants of the united races of Danes and Irish, but
chiefly perhaps of Danish blood. These brave men, in their first im-
pulse, had little calculated the terrific odds which they should have
to encounter in the small but highly-trained band, which now menaced
their city and native land. The glittering mail and marshalled array
of Norman valour and discipline must have presented a spectacle of
imposing novelty to their unaccustomed eyes. Their shrewdness was
not slow to draw correct inferences from the splendid but portentous
array which stood before their walls in the stern repose of military dis-
cipline and valour — and having for a moment wavered, they changed
their resolution, and, setting fire to the suburbs, they retired hastily
within their walls. Fitz-Stephen lost no time in pressing the advantage
of their panic, and led up his force to the assault. The garrison re-
covered from their momentary panic, and made a defence worthy of a
more fortunate result. The enemy was for a moment repulsed with
the loss of eighteen men. This loss enraged the high-spirited Eng-
lish, and surprised their Irish allies. Fitz-Stephen was, however, re-
solved to leave no refuge for retreat: before he renewed the assault,
he led his party to the shore, and set fire to the transports in which
they had arrived two days before. The next morning, having ordered
divine service in the camp, after it was performed with due solemnity,
he drew up his force with doubled circumspection and care. His little
party was wrought into a high impatience of their recent disgrace,
and each man resolved to conquer or die in his rank.

To this result, however, matters were not allowed to come. The
English, though resolved, had received from failure a lesson of caution ;
and the besieged were little encouraged by a success which was no-
thing more than an escape from a stronger foe. They had hitherto
been accustomed to see battles decided by the effect of a single onset,
and were less daunted by the prowess which their new enemies had
shown the day before, than by the stern composure with which they
now took their position before the walls — like men more determined
on the event. There was in consequence much hesitation, and a di-
vided feeling within the walls ; and while many urged steps of resistance,
others, more wise or timid, proposed overtures of peace. Among these
latter the clergy, friendly to the cause of Dermod, and taught to ex-

DERMOD MACMURRAGH.

185

pect, from the success of the English, many advantages and immunities,
were more particularly on the alert. The result was a flag of truce
to the besiegers, who received and accepted from the city an offer of
surrender, with a return to its allegiance to king Dermod. These
proposals seemed reasonable to all. The jealousy and vindictive ani-
mosity of Dermod himself remained unappeased, and three days passed
in superfluous negotiation. By the influence, however, both of .his
English allies and the clergy, all was smoothed ; and Dermod, to show
his faithfulness and honour to the English, without delay fulfilled his
promises to Fitz-Stephen and Fitz-Gerald, by granting them the lordship
of the city, with two cantreds of adjoining territory. And to oblige
earl Richard, he bestowed on Hervey de Montmorres two cantreds
lying between Wexford and Waterford. These three English knights
were therefore the first of the British settlers in Ireland.*

From Wexford king Dermod led his allies to his town of Ferns,
where the soldiers were rested, and the knights feasted for three weeks.
There was, meanwhile, a full concourse of his repentant subjects com-
ing in to the king from every quarter of the province. The capture of
Wexford, and the presence of the English, diffused a general sense of
the inutility and danger of further disaffection from the royal cause,
and, with few exceptions, restored the province to its allegiance. Der-
mod was thus enabled to add considerably to his force, and to maintain,
in the presence of his English friends, an appearance of authority and
power more in accordance with his pride and royal pretensions. The
utmost allowance having been now made for rest and preparation,
some further advance was to be made; and in this Dermod was de-
cided as much by personal enmity as by policy. Donald Magilla
Patrick, the prince of Ossory, had not only revolted to his enemy, the
king of Connaught, but having obtained possession of the person of
his only legitimate sou, either as a hostage or a visitor, on some
jealous pretence had him seized and ordered his eyes to be torn out —
under the operation of which cruel order the young prince had expired.
Dermod's implacable resentment was now consulted by an immediate
advance into the district of Ossory. The terror of the English arms
had travelled before them, and the report of their approach spread
consternation through Ossory. To this emergency Prince Donald show-
ed himself not unequal; promptly collecting his best forces, he reso-
lutely prepared for the formidable invader. Having marched to the
frontier of his province at the head of five thousand men, he took up
a strong and seemingly impregnable position among the defiles of the
woods and the natural entrenchment of a vast and intricate morass ;
and there disposing his forces to the utmost advantage, undauntedly
awaited the enemy. The enemy was soon at hand, and but imper-
fectly aware of the real dangers they had to encounter. Their onset

* On this event Mr Moore observes, "This tract of country is now comprised in
the baronies of Forth and Barbie, and it is not a little remarkable, that the descend-
ants of its first settlers remained, for ages, a community distinct, in language and
manners, from the natives. Even to a recent period, a dialect has continued in
use among them, peculiar to these baronies, and which, judging from the written
specimens that remain of it, bore a close affinity to the Anglo-Saxon." — Hist. ii.
216

186 THE CONQUEST.

was violent, and, on firm ground, would have borne down all thought of
resistance. But the Ossorians, secure in their quagmires against the
floundering charges of their antagonists, sustained their violence with
surprising firmness. The circumstance, however, threw these brave men
off their guard; in the heat of the fray, and triumphing in successful
resistance, they overlooked the secret of their strength, and suffered
their native ardour to impel them rashly forward to the firm and equal
plain, whither the more trained and deliberate tactics of the Anglo-
Norman foe retreated for the purpose of leading them into this fatal
error. With a steady precision, only to be attained by the most per-
fect discipline, the English turned in their seeming flight, and charged
with resistless power on the triumphing and tumultuary Ossorians,
who were scattered with dreadful slaughter back, until they once more
reached the security of their marshy fortifications. Here they were
secure; and the English, in their turn, carried forward in the con-
fusion of pursuit, insensibly involved themselves among the marshy
defiles, where it was impossible for heavy cavalry to act or even move
without imminent danger. Dermod, more experienced in the locali-
ties, or probably informed by the natives of his own party, quickly
apprised his allies of their danger. The Ossorians soon became
aware of the same circumstance ; and, thinking the invader within
their power, began to re-assemble with a courage that was perceived
by their countrymen in the opposite ranks. These also were now
alarmed by the motions of their English allies, which, in their igno-
rance of disciplined warfare, they attributed to fear. Under this
misapprehension, they now separated themselves from a body who,
they said, could run like the wind ; and Dermod, seeing their move-
ment, was led to fear that the Wexford men were about to change
sides and go over to the Ossorians. In the meantime, the English
knights calmly took the necessary steps to repair the error of their
position. Repeating their former evolution, they assumed the appear-
ance of a confused and hurried retreat; which, again exciting the
ardour of the Ossorians, they were still more tumultuously pursued.
Placing a small ambush behind a grove by which they passed, they
gained the firm fields ; and, securing sufficient room for their purpose,
a second time they wheeled short upon their unwary pursuers, who
were instantly turned into a confused flight, — and, being intercepted
by the ambush that had been placed between them and the morass,
sustained a severe slaughter. In this the troops of Dermod joined ;
and the men of Wexford, decided by the fortune of the day, were not
slow in lending the assistance which they would as readily have lent
to the Ossorians, had the victory been on their side. A rapid flight
soon terminated the slaughter, but not before three hundred of the
men of Ossory were slain, whose heads were collected and brought
by his soldiers as a grateful offering to the animosity of king Der-
mod. Dermod, in whose mind vindictive passions seem to have been
more strong than policy or ambition, received them with a transport
which, in the description of Cambrensis, suggests the image of a fiend
rather than a man. Passionately clasping his hands, he dared to
thank heaven for the grateful sight; and, deliberately examining the
bleeding heads, and turning them over one by one, revelled in the

DERMOD MACMURRAGH.

187

gratification of demoniac vengeance. At length the savage, discover-
ing in the bleeding heap the features of a well known face, with a
frenzied eagerness drew it forth; and, to the disgust and consterna-
tion of the surrounding circle of Irish, fastened his teeth on the un-
conscious and ghastly visage of his Ossorian foe. This shocking
story is omitted in the summary narrative of his servant, Regan.
The different historians, who repeat it from Cambrensis, manifest
more or less disinclination to receive it without qualification. None,
however, reject it; and, we must confess that, considering it to be too
obviously in harmony with the whole of Dermod's character, we have
suppressed our strong dislike to repeat a tale so revolting to every
sense of humanity.

The English leaders proposed to retain possession of the field, and
to follow up the victory they had obtained, by the complete reduction of
Donald's power in Ossory. Without this, the victory was but a useless
waste of life, and they were also liable to be harassed in their return by
pursuit. Such was the obvious suggestion of policy and prudence.
But to king Dermod policy and prudence were but secondary ; and he
had supped full on the horrors of revenge. He had defeated and tri-
umphed, burnt, despoiled, and wasted; and was now desirous of an
interval of rest, and the secure triumph and feasting of his kingly seat
at Ferns. Thither, in spite of remonstrance, he led back his force ;
and there he was, as he must have expected, attended by a fresh con-
course of submissive vassals, who congratulated him on his returning
prosperity, and renewed the faith for which it was his only security.

From Ferns he made several incursions against such of the lesser
chiefs as still held out. But the prince of Ossory, having nothing to
expect from submission to one whose hostility was personal, and, per-
haps collecting " resolution from despair,'' was, in the meantime, pre-
paring for a more desperate effort of resistance. Having entered
more fully into the detail of the first engagement with the army of
Donald, it may be felt the less necessary to dwell on the particulars
of the next. Donald fortified himself with a strong entrenchment and
palisade of wooden stakes upon the path of his enemy. On this the
valour and resources of the native forces of Dermod were, for three
days, allowed to exhaust themselves in vain assaults; the English,
waiting for a fair occasion, ended the tumultuary conflict by one deci-
sive charge, which carried the entrenchment and won the day. Der-
mod's mind, submissive and fawning in adversity, was now, with char-
acteristic consistency, rendered overbearing and insolent by success.
He began to feel himself a king, and the dispenser of slight and
favour among those who followed his standard; and, though a sense
of prudence repressed his overbearing temper, where he knew its in-
dulgence must be unsafe, yet he could not so far repress his insolence
as to avoid giving frequent offence to persons who probably saw
through and despised the baseness of his character. Those whose
services he had retained by strong pledges of interest, might be ex-
pected to smile in secret scorn at the slight or flattery, which they
valued alike at their proper worth. Maurice de Prendergast, how-
ever, bound by no compact and recompensed by no stipulated reward,
now began to feel that his service was treated with neglect, and that

188 THE CONQUEST.

his repeated solicitations and remonstrances were met by an insolent
attempt to undervalue his alliance: his patience was at last wearied,
and he showed some disposition to abandon one who thus repaid his
services with slight. The Wexford men, strongly disaffected to Der-
mod, saw and encouraged this inclination, which they strengthened
by their artful representations, and easily converted into a resolution
to join the prince of Ossory.

This incident revived the courage of Donald;, and made him deter-
mine on assuming the offensive, and attempting an incursion into the
territories of king Dermod. Prendergast, more sensible of the in-
adequacy of any force he could command for such a purpose, dissuaded
him from the vain effort. This was the more necessary, as a fresh
arrival from England had now repaired the loss occasioned by his
defection.

Prendergast soon discovered the error of the step he had taken.
He received information that there was a secret design, the intent of
which was first to secure his service, and then repay it by taking the
lives of himself and his small party,* and he resolved to retire to Wales.
Donald remonstrated to no purpose, and then determined to have re-
course to violence. " The men of Ossory," writes Regan, " persever-
ing in their malicious treason against Prendergast, assembled two
thousand men together, plashed a place through which he was to pass ;
whereof, by good fortune, Maurice having intelligence, acquainted his
companie with the danger. After mature deliberacione, it was re-
solved, that no knowledge shuld be takin of the intended treason, and
to make stay in Kilkenny for a few days, and in the meanwhile to send
messengers to Donald's seneschall, to lett hym knowe, that they were
contented to serve the kyng of Ossory, if it pleased hym, half a year,
or a quarter longer, which offer Donald gladlie accepted. The Os-
sorians, hearinge that Maurice had made a new agreement with the
kyng, abandoned the place where they lodged. Maurice hearinge
that they wer dislodged, about midnight rose out of Kilkenny, and
continued upon a swift march until he came to Waterford, where they
founds mean to imbarque themselves for Wales, but not without some
difficultie, for one of the English had slain a cittizen whyche enraged
the people, but Maurice Prendergast by his wisdome appeased the
tumult."t

The first landing of the English, and the events which immediately
followed, were not so far different from the ordinary feuds and pro-
vincial wars of a country, which seems to have been the home of per-
petual discord, as to be at first very clearly traceable to their results.
But Roderic, who from the beginning felt his private interests menaced
by the success of his known enemy, the king of Leinster, now began to
perceive that his monarchy was likely to be endangered by the course
of events. This he was not left to infer. Dermod, in the high-flown
insolence of conscious power, now avowed his pretensions to the king-

* The character of Donald is not implicated in this design. Maurice Re^an, from
whose fragment this memoir is drawn, adds, "but Donald would by no means as-
sent to that."

t Ke^an.

DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 189

doin. The honour of Roderic was also pledged to the vindication of
the rights of his faithful partisan, the chief of Ossory. Under these
motives, he resolved to make those vigorous efforts which, when im-
partially viewed and referred to their real objects and the actual
spirit of that age, carry with them all the heroism, though not the
romance, of national valour. He summoned his tributaries, and raised
his standard at Tara, where he reviewed his assembled forces; from
thence he led them to Dublin. Here, we learn from the ancient
annals of the country, he found in this vast national force symptoms
of weakness, enough to convince him that there was little or no hope
of any proportional result. Many were likely to betray him for the
promotion of their private views — some from envy — some from resent-
ment of former wrongs — some from fear of an enemy, of whose deeds
they had perhaps received inflated descriptions — every disposition
was shown to thwart his measures ; and all the ordinary and easily-
distinguished symptoms were perceptible, of that disaffection which, if
it find no opening for a traitor's blow, is sure to take the first cross-road
to part company. Roderic had long been aware of the fact, that many
of the assembled chiefs were in secret the adherents of the rival house
of Hy-Niall. Acting on suspicions, the grounds of which could not be
mistaken, Roderic dismissed his northern tributaries on the ostensible
grounds, that the occasion did not warrant so considerable a force.
His own troops, with those of O'Ruark, Thomond, and a few of Der-
mod's disaffected tributaries, he retained — a force, numerically taken,
far superior to those he should have to meet; yet when the vast pre-
ponderance of discipline, arms, and continued success are weighed,
far insufficient to give confidence to a mind not under the influence of
infatuation.

Roderic nevertheless acted with vigour and a steady and deliberate
sagacity, which made the most of the circumstances. He saw demon-
strations on the part of the enemy, which indicated apprehensions of
the event, and he resolved to avail himself of a seeming strength, the
weakness of which he too well understood.

In the mean time Dermod, easily elated by success, and yielding
with equal proneness to dejection, communicated to Fitz-Stephen his
unmanly fears. These the steady courage of Fitz-Stephen repelled.
He told the feeble chief, that " a brave leader should not only show
personal valour in the field, but preserve that steady resolution which
can brave the extremities of reverse. That true courage, unaffected
by fortune, was always ready to meet and obviate the most trying
perils with composure and the resources of a collected mind. At
worst, a glorious death was the last resource of an undaunted spirit."
With these and such remonstrances, in which he most justly expressed
the character of his own steady and heroic spirit, Fitz-Stephen vainly
endeavoured to communicate heroism to the feeble and abject Dermod,
who, though personally courageous, was utterly devoid of the spirit
which was thus appealed to. It was, therefore, the next essential con-
sideration to take the most immediate measures for the defensive
course, which, although prompted by timidity, was not without its re-
commendation to the cautious prudence which governed all the move-
ments of the English. The English retired to Ferns, and entrenched

190 THE CONQUEST.

themselves in an inaccessible position among thick impervious wood,
and deep morasses. Here they quietly awaited the approach of
Roderic.

Roderic surmised the advantages, and saw the difficulties which
these circumstances appeared to offer. While the strength of the
position of the English made assault ridiculous, it yet implied a sense
of weakness. There was a seeming opportunity to avert the menaced
calamity by wary policy while the risk of war was at best but doubt-
ful. He resolved to proceed by remonstrance and persuasion, and
communicating with Fitz-Stephen, exposed the injustice of the cause,
and the unworthiness of the person to whom he had prostituted
English valour. Fitz-Stephen readily penetrated the true policy of
these overtures, and concluded that conscious weakness alone would,
under the circumstances, have dictated them. He knew the real frailty
of the brave monarch's best resources, and could not resolve either to
abandon his own fortunes, or be false to his plighted engagements, and
he at once rejected the offers and reasoning of Roderic. The con-
clusion of his letter is curious for its characteristic and quaint signifi-
cance. " To what end is your embassie? If Rotherick give council,
we need it not ; if he prophesie, we credit not his oracle ; if he command
as a prince, we obey not his authority ; if he threaten as an enemy, a
fig for his monarchy."

Roderic next appealed to the fears of Dermod, who, now supported
by the courage and decision of his brave allies, rejected his overtures
with equal resolution. He then prepared for a vigorous effort against
the English, which, in the opinion of Leland " might have confounded
all their expectations, deterred their countrymen from any like attempts,
and prevented the momentous consequences of this apparently insigni-
ficant invasion. The future fate of Ireland hung on this critical moment,
and it was at once decided, for Roderic listened to the suggestions of
his clergy, and rather than hazard an engagement, consented to treat
with a prince whose perfidy he had already experienced." Such is the
representation of the most impartial and moderate historian that Ireland
has yet produced. But it abounds with manifest inconsequences. The
" critical moment," though it brings the event, does not as necessarily
bring with it the efficient resource. Nor, if it be admitted that Roderic's
entering into a compromise on that occasion carried with it fatal con-
sequences, can it with equal reason be insisted on, that he had the
choice of any other course. So far as his own immediate acts admit
of inference, it was his rash design to attempt the forcing of the posi-
tion of his enemy ; and there can be no doubt that he would have in
this but consulted the dictates of policy and resentment. It did
not require a prophetic anticipation of " seven centuries" to come, or
of vague sensations of national impressions yet unborn, to stimulate a
breast affected by far other and far nearer passions. It was the fate
of Roderic to stand at the helm when the tempest was too strong for
mortal hand; no prudence or courage could have withstood the ad-
verse concurrence of circumstances with which he had to contend;
and it seems to us surprising, with what flippant facility writers of
great general fairness allow their pens to glide unthinkingly into reflec-

DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 191

tions, the absurdity of which is exposed by nearly all the details of
the statement to which they are appended. There is no extraordinary
difficulty in the correct appreciation of the difficulties of Roderic's
situation. The vast inequality of real military force may be omitted —
from that at least he never shrunk ; but he had, in fact, no power at
his command: his army was a mere pageant, his chiefs were only to
be leagued by their private objects, and were, if these required, far
more willing to combine against their monarch, than to follow him in
a common cause. The common interest was little known — there was
no community of feeling, or if such had existence, it was lost in the
eager strifes and contentions of provincial politics. Provincial feuds
and jealousies — the disaffection of many — the fears of some — the
disunion of all, imperfectly traced in the meagre records of that dark
age, appear to the modern historian as dim shadows in the distance
of time, which he may notice or not, just as he is inclined to colour
actions which have derived their chief importance from after events.
It is indeed easy for modern patriotism to play its graceful harle-
quinade on the tombs of those who, in that deep, anxious, and fatal
conflict (if they will have it fatal), were the anxious and deeply in-
terested actors; and who, without being deficient in courage or
earnestness in their own concerns, were governed by fatal and uncon-
querable influences now imperfectly conceived. The disunion of the
chiefs of the country may be truly set down as fatal to the cause of
resistance ; but this was their essential characteristic — the idiosyncrasy
of the land.

Roderic arrayed his forces for the storm; and he endeavoured to
awaken the ardour of his followers by an address well adapted to
rouse their patriotism and courage. He represented the injustice
of Dermod's aim, and the crimes of his life. He pointed out the
dangers likely to follow from the power of the new comers ; adverted
to former instances of similar effects, and cited examples of similar
dangers averted by brave resistance. " While these strangers are but
few in number," he concluded, " let us stoutly issue out upon them.
The fire, while it is but in embers and sparkles, may easily be covered
with ashes, but if it break into flames, it is hard to be quenched....
Wherefore, cheer my hearts, we fight for our country and liberty ; let
us leave unto our posterity an immortal fame ; let us press on and
lustily assault them, that the overthrow of a few may be a terror to
many ; and that it may be a warning to all future potentates not to
attempt the like again." Such was the bold and specious rhetoric,
which the brave monarch directed to most reluctant hearers. The
real difficulties, and the true dangers of action, were as apparent to
his chiefs as they were to his own sagacity; they were not, like him,
impelled by the powerful sense of having fame and dominions at the
hazard. The clergy — by profession the advocates of peace, and by
interest concerned to protract a contest by the result of which they
were likely to be gainers — were active in influencing the minds of his
camp, as well as his own. He soon perceived that an effective attack
was hopeless — that the consequence of defeat must be ruin. The
alternative was a matter of necessity as well as prudence, and he chose

192 THE CONQUEST.

it: unable to resist effectively, he resolved to temporize. New pro-
posals were offered to the king- of Leinster ; and by the mediation of
the clergy, after some time, a treaty was concluded, in which every
thing was conceded that Roderic had a right to demand. Dermod
consented to acknowledge his supremacy, and to pay him the usual
service of a subject prince — giving up his son as a hostage. A secret
article secured the more general object of Roderic, and showed the
perfidy of Dermod: he engaged, on the reduction of Leinster, to dis-
miss his English allies; and, it is added by historians, resolved to
observe this treaty no longer than might suit his purposes.

He was now at liberty to pursue, undisturbed, his schemes of ven-
geance and aggrandizement. Dublin was selected as the first object
of attack. This city was chiefly inhabited by Ostmen, who were at
this time the chief commercial inhabitants of the country. These
foreigners sate loosely from the sway of the native kings, which they
resisted or acquiesced in as circumstances rendered expedient.
Dermod bore them especial hate for the spirit with which they had fre-
quently repelled his aggressions. Nor was his dislike without a more
especial cause. His father had so irritated them by oppression, that
when they caught him within their walls, they slew and buried him
with a dead dog. They from that time revolted and acknowledged no
government but that of their countryman, Hesculph MacTorcal. Fitz-
Stephen was at this time detained near Wexford, by the necessity of
erecting a fort for the security of his own possessions. Dermod, with
his Irish, and the remainder of his British allies, advanced into the
territory of Dublin, which he laid waste with slaughter and conflagra-
tion, till the terrified citizens were forced to appease him by a prompt
submission, which, at the instance of Fitz-Gerald, was accepted.

It would be tedious and unprofitable to enter on all the minor changes
and events which led to no apparent result of any interest, in a work
not directly pretending to a historical character, beyond what its pro-
fessed object demands. Dermod, now fully reinstated in his power,
might have allowed the disturbances he had raised to settle into com-
parative calm. The English would gladly have availed themselves of
the peaceful possession they might have been allowed quietly to retain ;
their English countrymen showed no eagerness to join them; and
king Henry, if under these assumptions he would have found induce-
ment to come over, would have met the shadow of submission, and the
proffer of free allegiance, which must have left things pretty nearly as
they were. The arbitrement of war alone could transfer the rights of
the native chiefs, and afford the sanction of necessity for the further
oppressions which are the sure followers of continual strife. But
Dermod's views, expanded by the elevation of confirmed power, con-
sulted only his inflamed ambition, and the unremitting vengeance of his
heart. Another step lay before him — too easy to be deferred — which
must place his foot on the neck of Roderic, his ancient and hated foe.
He represented to his British allies the justice of his right, the wealth
and magnificence of the prize. The dominions of Connaught, he said,
would afford the richest and fairest settlements to those who should
assist him in recovering the possession which had been wrongfully

DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 193

usurped from his family. The English yielded to his reiterated per-
suasions, but strongly insisted that their force was insufficient for an
undertaking of such magnitude. They urged his strenuous efforts to
gain additional assistance from England, as the only sure support
against all impediment and resistance. By their advice, he renewed his
application to earl Strongbow, who possessed the means to lead over a
sufficient force to effect the purpose.

Earl Strongbow, fully apprised of the advantages he might hope for
from compliance with the repeated invitations and offers of Dermod,
was embarrassed by the necessity of obtaining leave from king Henry.
Henry was reluctant to permit private adventure to advance too far with-
out his own co-operation ; it was indeed well to have the pretext raised,
and the way securely tried ; but the gradual occupation of the country
by adventurers, by no means squared with the views of this ambitious
and far-seeing monarch. A consent so ambiguous as to admit of
question when expediency might require, was the most that earl
Richard could obtain; but it was enough for a will ready to precipi-
tate itself on its object: the earl departed, with the resolution to un-
derstand the king according to his own purpose.

The season retarded his operations for some months. But he em-
ployed the interval effectively, and completed his preparation against
the spring. He now sent Raymond le Gros, the near kinsman of
Fitz-Stephen and Fitz-Gerald, as an advanced guard, with a force of
ten knights and seventy archers, accompanied by Hervey of Mont-
morres, who had returned to Wales, and now came back with a small
train. This company landed near Waterford, at Dundolf.*

Here they secured themselves with a sufficient entrenchment. As
soon as their landing was known, there was a tumultuary muster of the
men of Waterford and Ossory, who marched against them; these were
joined by Mac Kelan of Offelan, and O'Rian of Odrone. The company
of Raymond did not exceed an hundred men. He had collected into
his little fortification all the cows in the surrounding districts; and
seeing the besiegers too numerous to be attacked without much un-
necessary^ risk, at the same time resolving not to endure the inconve-
niences of a lingering siege, he hit on a device which, considering the
irregular character of the besiegers, was not ill-judged. While the
men of Waterford and their allies, to the number of many thousands,
were deliberating on the most effectual means of securing the handful
of adventurers which fortune seemed to have placed within their grasp,
of a sudden the gates of the little fortress expanded, and a frightened
herd of black cattle rushed forth with hoof' and horn, and burst with
resistless impetuosity on the disorderly multitude. The undisciplined
ranks scattered on every side in that confusion and disarray which, of
itself, is enough to carry terror to the fiercest hearts. Before the first
effects of this disorder could subside, while all were yet scattered in
the wild tumult of dismay, a still fiercer enemy was among them —
Raymond and his thirty knights were spreading wide avenues of
slaughter among the unresisting kernes. A thousand were slain, and

* Downdonnel. Regan.

T. N Ir.

194

THE CONQUEST.

seventy taken prisoners. But the victory of Raymond was sullied
by cruelty. In the fray he had lost a dear friend, and in his fury he
ordered all his prisoners to be put to death.*

While Raymond le Gros yet continued in his fort at Dundonnel,
earl Strongbow, embarking at Milford, August 1 1 70, on St Bartholo-
mew's eve, arrived in the bay of Waterford with fifteen or sixteen
hundred troops, among whom, we learn from Cambrensis, were two
hundred knights, and at once resolved on the siege of that city, which
was at this time governed by Reginald and Smorth, two petty Danish
chiefs. Strongbow's first step was probably the sending for king
Dermod, but Regan and Cambrensis differ as to the period of his
arrival; the first, with whom we are inclined to concur, making it to
have taken place before, the latter after, the taking of the city.
Another difference here occurs between our authorities — Cambrensis
giving the command of the assault to Raymond, who, by the silence
of Regan, would seem to have had no share in this affair. Omitting the
consideration of this difference, the siege of Waterford was begun on
the following day. After meeting some severe repulses from the walls,
a house was noticed which projected over an angle of the wall, and
was supported by props from the outside. By cutting down the props,
the house came to the ground, and left a breach through which the
besiegers poured into the town. Resistance was of course at an end,
and a fearful slaughter was interrupted by the humane interposition of
king Dermod, whose dark history seems brightened with this sole re-
deeming gleam of beneficence. Immediately on the cessation of the
tumult and terror of the recent siege, the nuptials of Strongbow and
Eva were solemnized in Waterford.

It was now agreed, between Dermod and his son-in-law, to march
against Dublin, which had recently shown strong signs of returning
disaffection, and against which also the wrathful enmity of Dermod had
not yet been satisfied. With this resolution they went to Ferns, to
remain until the completion of the necessary preparations. They were,
in the mean time, apprised that Roderic had succeeded in raising a
levy of thirty thousand men to intercept their approach to Dublin;
and that, with this view, he had "plashed and trenched all the places
through which the earl and Dermod must have passed."f

There was no result decisive enough for this narrative. The exhi-
bition of the invading force, now swelled to upwards of four thousand
English, was fully sufficient to convince the leaders of the native force of
the utter absurdity of an attack, which, from the open line of march
sagaciously chosen by Strongbow, should have been made without those
advantages of defile and morass, without which every such attempt
had hitherto failed. After three days of desultory skirmish, in which
they became confirmed in this opinion, they compelled their disappointed
leader to dismiss them. Roderic, who must himself have felt the just-

" Such is the account of Regan. Cambrensis represents the circumstance differ-
ently, and Leland gives weight to his statement by adopting it. According to this
account, Raymond pleaded for the prisoners, who offered their ransom ; but the
arguments of Hervey prevailed for their death.

f Regan.

DERMOD MACMURRAGH. 195

ness, went home to mature more extensive preparations, and to secure
more trusty allies.

Dublin was soon invested by Dermod and the English ; and Mau-
rice Regan, the writer of the narrative from which this memoir is
chiefly drawn, was sent to summon the city to surrender, and to
demand hostages for its fidelity. The citizens could not agree, and the
treaty was interrupted: the time assigned for it was spent in vain
altercations, until Miles de Cogan, who was stationed at a more assail-
able point, without consulting the earl, gave the signal for attack;
the citizens, who were expecting a treaty, were surprised by the sight
of the enemy pouring into their streets in the fury of a successful
assault. It is needless to multiply the details of slaughter and devas-
tation. Lawrence O'Toole, the archbishop of Dublin, did honour to
his humanity and patriotism on this occasion, by the energy of his
exertions for the rescue of his fellow-citizens ; throwing himself be-
tween the heated conquerors and their trembling victims, he denounced,
entreated, persuaded, intercepted the blows, and dragged the prostrate
citizens from beneath the very swords of the assailants.

Earl Strongbow was now invested with the lordship of Dublin, and
appointed De Cogan his governor.

From Dublin, the confederates marched into Meath, where they
committed the most furious devastations; the result of which was a
message from Roderic, who had not yet acquired sufficient strength
to take the field, commanding Dermod, as his subject, to retire. He
was reminded that he had been allowed to recover his territories
according to a treaty^ the stipulations of which he had violated by
continuing to employ foreigners in the oppression of the kingdom;
and that, unless he would immediately return to the observance of his
engagements, it would become necessary to visit his obstinacy on the
life of his son, who was the hostage for his faith. Dermod, who
was devoid of natural affection, was content to sacrifice paternal duty
to ambition, and sent back a scornful and irritating answer. He
re-asserted his claim to the dominion of Connaught, and professed his
intention not to lay down his arms until he should have established
his right. His son was the victim of his faithlessness and the barbar-
ism of the time.

Dermod, immoderately elevated by his successes, now ventured to
try his force by leading an army of his own troops into the territory
of his ancient enemy, O'Ruark ; and, in consequence, he met with the
deserved penalty of his rashness in two successive defeats. This is
the last adventure, of any importance, in which he seems to have been
personally engaged.

His death, in the following winter, threw a temporary damp on the
spirit of his adventurous allies. The Irish annalists, in their natural
dislike to the memory of one whom they represent as the first who
shook the prosperity of his country, attribute his death to the imme-
diate stroke of Divine retribution, granted to the intercession of all
the Irish saints. According to these records, Dermod died of a lin-
gering and offensive disease, which drove from his agitated and
despairing couch the last consolations and tender offices of his kindred
and servants. His death took place at his residence in Ferns, in

196 THE INVADERS.

the month of May; on which event, the succession to his kingdom of
Leinster devolved, both by inheritance and treaty, on Strongbow.

THE INVADERS.

EARL STRONGBOW.

DIED A. D. 1177.

RICHARD DE CLARE, third earl of Pembroke, earl of Strigul, lord
of Chepstow in England, earl of Ogir in Normandy, &C., &c., prince
of Leinster in right of his wife, and lord-lieutenant of Ireland under
Henry II., bore the sirname of Strongbow, by which he is familiarly
designated, from his father, Gilbert, who obtained it for his remark-
able skill in archery. At the time of king Dermod's flight into Eng-
land, Strongbow was out of favour with king Henry; his estate had
been wasted by dissipation, and being yet not past the prime of his life,
he was, by disposition as well as from circumstances, prepared to throw
himself upon any course which might employ his valour and repair
his fortunes. .,

Accordingly, he applied to king Henry on that occasion, for permis-
sion to e'mbark in the undertaking proposed by the fugitive king of
Leinster ; and, as we have related in our memoir of king Dermod, re-
ceived an ambiguous answer, the design of which he probably under-
stood, and construed according to his own purpose. He nevertheless had
the precaution to defer the execution of his design, until the event of
Fitz-Stephen's expedition might offer some decided estimate of the
chances of success. It is also probable that he found some difficulties
arising from the impoverished condition of his finances.

At length, affairs in Ireland having taken the course already stated,
in August, 1 1 70, when all was ready for embarkation at Milford, he
had the vexation of receiving from king Henry a peremptory message,
forbidding the projected enterprise, on pain of the forfeiture of his pos-
sessions and honours. It is probable that Strongbow had not much to
lose, and it is certain that his expectations were at the highest point.
Henry's hands were full. He had gone too far to recede without dis-
honour; and, having resolved to brave all consequences, he affected to
doubt the purport, and question the authority of the royal mandate;
so, dismissing all further consideration, he embarked and came, on the
eve of St. Bartholomew, into the port of Waterford.

On the capture of Waterford, he married Eva, daughter to the king
of Leinster ; and, having passed some days at Ferns, he assisted at
the siege of Dublin, as already mentioned, and was invested by his
father-in-law with the lordship of that city. From this there is no
occurrence important enough to be repeated from the former memoir,
until the death of king Dermod, from which we again meet the onward
progress of the events in Strongbow's life.

Immediately previous to king Dermod's death, the English adven-
turers were much depressed in their hopes by an edict published by

EAEL STRONGBOW. 197

king Henry, prohibiting the transportation of men, arms, or provisions
to Ireland from any English or Welsh port ; and, on pain of attainder
and forfeiture, commanding all English subjects, of every order and
degree, to return home before the ensuing feast of Easter. Strong-
bow, who knew the character and policy of Henry, immediately
despatched his trusty friend, Raymond le Gros, to Aquitaine, where
Henry then resided. Raymond made such excuses on the part of
Strongbow, as most probably satisfied the king ; but, thinking it neces-
sary to repress and retard the progress of the adventurers until he
should himself have leisure to follow up the conquest of Ireland, he
gave no distinct answer to the reiterated solicitations of Raymond,
whom he thus detained from day to day, until an incident occurred
which, for a season, so wholly engrossed his mind as to prevent the
consideration of any other affair of moment. This was the murder of
Becket, which involved his peace of mind, and hazarded even the
safety of his throne, in a most hapless contest with his people, clere-v,

1.1 p T-» Lf' oj '

and the court ot Rome.

In this interval the affairs of Strongbow and his fellow-adventurers
bore a most unpromising aspect; and Dermod's death, in the midst of
their trouble, came to heighten their perplexity. On this occurrence,
the native Irish fell away from them, with the exception of Donald
Kavanagh (Dermod's illegitimate son), Awliffe O'Carvy, and Mac-
Gely, chief of Firbrynn.

This gloomy aspect of affairs was quickly interrupted by a torrent
of dangers, which accumulated around them with a rapidity and
power that menaced inevitable ruin. First, they were surprised by
the unexpected return of the Danish governor, Hesculf, with a power-
ful body of Ostmen, which he had levied among the Scottish isles.
Strongbow was, at this time, absent at Waterford, and had left the
city under the command of Miles de Cogan.

The Ostmen had landed, without opposition, under their captain,
John Wood; they were all selected and trained soldiers, and armed
" after the Danish manner, with good brigantines, jackes, and shirts
of mail ; their shields, buckler?, and targets, were round and coloured
red, and bound about with iron; and, as they were in arms, so they
were in minds, iron-strong and mighty."* This formidable force,
having landed from sixty transports, marched direct against the eastern
gate of the city. The attack was impetuous, and found no propor-
tionate force to resist it. De Cogan was taken by surprise ; yet the
natural steadiness of English soldiers offered resistance enough to pro-
tract, for a considerable time, the violent and sanguinary struggle which
heaped the gate with dead ; so that, when his force, thinned by the
fall of numbers, were on the point of being overpowered by the supe-
rior force of the Danish troops, time had been secured for a manoeuvre
which turned the fortune of the tight. Richard, brother to De Cogan,
issued with a select party from the southern gate of the city; and,
coming round to the quarter of assault, charged the rear of the besieg-
ing army. The effect was not so decided as at once to end the strug-
gle ; their numbers were still too formidably over-balanced by the be-

* Giraldus.

198 THE INVADERS.

siegers. It, however, so far threw them into disorder, that the efforts
of the English became more decisive, and their superiority of firm-
ness and discipline began to tell with redoubled effect, so that the con-
fusion of the besiegers, momently increasing, ended at last in a head-
long flight. The English were now joined by some Irish allies, of
whose disposition they had been hitherto doubtful, and the Ostmen
were pursued with great slaughter to their ships. Wood was slain.
Hesculf was taken. It was first decided to hold him to ransom; but
he imprudently boasted of the extent of his preparations for the next
attack, and of his resolution, before long, to crush the power of his
captors ; and this perilous bravado cost him his life.

But a trial still more severe was yet to be encountered. In the
general supineness of the Irish chiefs — altogether devoid of all ideas
of a national cause, and only alive to the call of their separate petty
interests — one chief alone was, by the accident of his more extended
interests, awake to the dangers which menaced the foundations of his
monarchy. Roderic — ill seconded by any corresponding sense on the
part of his chiefs, of whom the greater number were ready, at any
moment, to desert or oppose him for the slightest object, whether of
fear or gain — was yet ever on the watch for the moment of advan-
tage against his Norman foes. He had fully learned the vanity of all
expectation from the result of any resistance, less than that of an
overwhelming national force; he was now aware of the juncture of
circumstances, which promised to cut off all further aid from the
English, who were thinned in numbers, and nearly destitute of supplies ;
and he resolved to avail himself of the occasion.

He was nobly seconded by Lawrence O'Toole, the archbishop of
Dublin, whose assistance was rendered effective by the commanding
influence of his talents and virtues. He hastened from province to
province, roused the spirit, and awakened the fears of the divided
chiefs. He solicited and obtained the powerful alliance of Gotred,
king of Man, who came with thirty vessels into the harbour of Dublin,
which they placed under blockade. The confederacy, thus excited,
seemed for the first time equal to the emergency. Roderic, with his
provincial force, encamped at Castleknock; O'Ruark and O'Carrol
at Clontarf; O'Kinsellagh occupied the opposite shore; the chief of
Thomond took his position at Kilmainham ; Lawrence himself took
arms and headed his troop. This formidable armament was perhaps
more to be dreaded from the mere consequences of its vis inertia,
than from any active exertion of its power of offence ; it was divided
by separate commands, and still more by the diffusion of a spirit of
private jealousy ; most of its chiefs entertaining more dislikes and fears
of one another, than hostility to the common enemy.

The besieged, for two months enclosed by this seemingly formidable
alliance, were reduced to difficulties of the severest kind. The dearth
of provisions increased daily; the men grew distempered, and lost
their spirits and vigour ; a little further protraction of their present
condition would have left nothing for the enemy to effect. Their
misery was aggravated by an account of the distress of Fitz-Stephen,
who lay in the utmost danger of being seized by the people of Wex-
ford.

EARL STRONGBOW.

199

Strongbow called a council.* It was agreed that their situation
was too desperate for further resistance, and they resolved to treat
with Roderic on any fair and honourable terms. The speech attributed
by Regan to Strongbow, may be cited as descriptive of the circum-
stances : — " You see with what forces our enemies besiege us ; we
have not victuals to suffice us longer than fifteen days ; a measure of
wheat is now sold for a marke, of barley for half a marke ; wherefore
I think it best that we presently send to the king of Connaught to
tell him, that if he will rise and depart from the siege, I will submit
myself to him, and be his man, and hold Leinster of him ; and I am
of opinion that Lawrence, the archbishop of Dublin, is the meetest
man to negotiate this business." Lawrence was applied to, and will-
ingly engaged to bear the proposal of the earl to Roderic ; but soon
returned with an answer, of which some writers suspect him to have
been the framer. The supposition implies a baseness which we cannot
credit, notwithstanding the low morality of the age ; and we think the
answer more likely to have come from Roderic, of whose position it was
the natural suggestion. Lawrence entered the council of the English
with the stern composure of his character, and delivered, with firm-
ness, an answer which he may honestly have approved. It was this: —
That all the forts held by the English should be immediately surren-
dered to Roderic, and that the English should depart before an appoint-
ed day, and leave the country henceforth free from their claims and
usurpations ; on refusal of which, Roderic threatened to assault the
city, " making no doubt to carry it by force." This proud answer
amazed the earl and his council: they sat for some moments silent
and perplexed. At last Miles de Cogan started up and advised an
immediate sally, himself offering to be the leader. The proposal was
received with acclamation, and they immediately broke up their sitting
to execute it. The following was the disposition of their little force,
as stated by Regan:. — " The vanguard was assigned to Myles de
Cogan, consisting of two hundred; Raymond le Gros, with other
two hundre, commanded the battle ; and the erle, with two hun-
dre, marched in the reare. In this interprize, full of perill, they
used not the aid of their Irish soldiers ; for neyther in their fidelity
nor in their valour reposed they confidence, saving only of the persons
of Donald Kavannagh, and Mac Gely, and Awliff O'Carvie, of whom
they wer assured. Unto Finglass they directed their march. "When
they approached the enemies' campe, who wer careless and secure, not
mistrustinge any suche attempt, Myles de Cogan, to encourage his
souldiers — ' In the name of God,' said he, ' let us this day try our
valour upon these savages, or dye like men;' and therwithall broke
furiously into the camp, and made such slaughter as all fled before
hym. Raymond, callinge upon St David, furiously rushed in amongst
his enemies, and performed wonders; and so did the erle Richard;
but especially Meyler Fitz-Henry's valour was admired at bye all men.

* The offirers present at this council are mentioned by Maurice Regan : — Robert
de Quincy, Walter de Ridleford, Maurice de Prendergast, Myles de Cogan, Myles
Fitz-Henry, Myles Fitz-David, Richard de Maroine, Walter Bluett, and others, to
the number of twenty.

200 THE INVADERS.

In Boynhill of the enemies were slain more than one hundreth and
fifty ; of the English there was only one footman hurt. This over-
throw so discouraged the Irish, as the siege was nearly abandoned;
and in the enemies' campe store of baggage was gotten, and such
quantities of corn, meale, and pork, as was sufficiaunt to victuall the
citty for one whole yere."*

Thus, by a single effort, was dissolved a league, the apparent power
of which fully justified the haughty imposition of terms proposed by
Roderic, through the archbishop of Dublin. Strongbow was now at
liberty to proceed to Wexford to the succour of the unfortunate Fitz-
Stephen. This brave man had, for a long time held out with a reso-
lution and skill which rendered vain the most furious efforts of his
assailants. At length they had recourse to a stratagem, which might
be excused on the plea of utter barbarism, were it not frightfully
aggravated by the more atrocious perjury. They demanded a parley,
in which, assuming the tone of friendly sympathy, they assured Fitz-
Stephen that Strongbow had been defeated, and that Roderic was now
on his march to Wexford, with the resolution of storming his fortress
and putting his garrison to the sword, and that Fitz-Stephen himself
was more especially the object of his vengeance. They had resolved
that under these dreadful circumstances, he should not be left igno-
rant of the danger that awaited him; they could not assist, but they
would countenance and facilitate his escape. Fitz-Stephen hesitated.
His garrison amounted to about a score of persons; the besiegers
were at least three thousand. Their improbable professions of regard
seemed to throw an air of doubt over their whole story. To remove
all further hesitation, they produced the bishops of Wexford and Kil-
dare in their robes, and bearing the cross, the host, and some
relics; laying their hands on these, the perfidious barbarians confirmed
their falsehood by an oath. Fitz-Stephen, completely duped, with-
out further question, delivered himself and his hapless associates to
the mercy of these miscreants. They instantly cast him into chains ;
and, disarming his men, exhausted on them every torture they could
devise. In the midst of this inhuman employment, they received
intelligence of Strongbow's approach; on which they set fire to
Wexford, and decamped with Fitz-Stephen and the surviving pri-
soners.

In the meantime, Strongbow had not been allowed to reach his
destination without the usual share of adventures. For a while he
marched on without the appearance of a foe, until he reached a nar-
row pass between vast bogs in the district of Hidrone, in the county
of Carlow. Here O'Ryan, the lord of the place, placed an armed
force in ambush to intercept him in the most difficult part of this pas-
sage. On the arrival of the English at this point, they were unex-
pectedly attacked by an impetuous burst of these uncouth assailants,
who broke in among them with hideous outcries, and, for a moment,
threw them into confusion. They even succeeded so far as to beat
Meyler Fitz-Henry to the ground, and it was not without much diffi-
culty that he was extricated from their fury. At this moment an

* Regan.

EARL STRONGBOW. 201

arrow, discharged by a monk, killed O'Ryan, when the enemy fled as
wildly as they had advanced. The earl regained the plain with the
loss of only one young man.

It is a tradition that, on this occasion, Strongbow's only son was so
terrified at the sudden rush and savage appearance of the Irish, that
he turned and fled to Dublin, where he reported the death of his
father and the destruction of his entire force. When undeceived from
this error, he appeared before his father to congratulate him on his
victory : the earl had him seized and condemned to death. It is even
added that he slew him with his own hand. " This tradition," ob-
serves Leland, " receives some countenance from the ancient monu-
ment in the cathedral of Dublin, in which the statue of the son of
Strongbow is continued only to the middle, with the bowels open and
supported by the hands ; but, as this monument was erected some cen-
turies after the death of Strongbow, it is thus of less authority. The
Irish annalists mention the earl's son as engaged in several actions
posterior to this period."*

Strongbow, on his arrival at Wexford, had the mortification to
learn, by a deputation from the Irish, that Fitz- Stephen remained in
their hands, and that any attempt to molest them in their retreat,
would cause them to strike off his head. He felt the risk, and, with
vain regret for his friend, turned towards Waterford.

At Waterford, he found himself soon involved in the inextricable
web of Irish feuds. These are not in themselves sufficiently remark-
able to be described with the detail of history ; it may be sufficient to
say, that some of the chiefs of the neighbouring districts, by artful mis-
representations, endeavoured to league him with their petty hostilities,
and to make his power instrumental to their private animosities and
ambitious designs. From Waterford he proceeded to Ferns, where,
for some days, he remained in the exercise of royal authority.

He was, however, not long allowed to plume himself in the state of
royalty. His uncle, Hervey de Montmorres, whom he had deputed
to king Henry, now landed at Waterford, bearing letters and messages
from his friends in England, strongly urging that he should not lose
a moment in presenting himself before the king. Of the necessity of
this, Strongbow was himself fully sensible, and resolved to set out with-
out delay.

We have already mentioned the troubles in which Becket's death had
involved the king. From these it had required all his eminent courage
and sagacity to deliver him. But he was now free to follow the im-
pulse of his ambition, which had long contemplated Ireland as an en-
viable accession to his dominions. With this view he had, so far back
as 1155, procured a bull from pope Adrian IV., who was an English-
man, authorizing the conquest of Ireland; this, with its subsequent
confirmation by a breve from pope Alexander, he had suffered to lie
by till a favourable juncture of circumstances might render it avail-
able. The season was now arrived, and the king entered with alacrity
on his preparations. His first steps, however, were calculated to mis-
lead expectation. He began by disclaiming all countenance of the

* Lei. i. p. 61, note.

•-
•^—

202

THE INVADERS.

proceedings of the English adventurers, and summoned Strongbow to
his presence, to answer for his unauthorized proceedings.

But he not the less prepared for the meditated enterprise by an ex-
tensive levy of money and forces. Mr Moore observes, that " from the
disbursements made for the arms, provision, and shipping of the army,
as set forth in the pipe roll of the year 1171, still preserved, it would
appear that the force raised for the expedition was much more nume-
fous than has been represented by historians."*

Henry at first refused to see Strongbow, but, on the mediation of
De Montmorres, admitted him to an audience. Affecting a high tone
of offended majesty, he allowed himself to be appeased by the conces-
sions of the earl, who yielded up his Irish acquisitions, and, in return,
was restored to his English and Norman estates, with large tracts of
Irish territory, to be held in perpetuity under the English crown.
This arrangement was ratified by a formal instrument, by which Dub-
lin and its adjoining districts were ceded to the king, together with
the maritime towns and places of strength acquired by Strongbow.
By these concessions, he was restored to favour, and allowed to attend
the king to Pembroke, where he resided during his preparations.

Meanwhile, a last effort was made by O'Ruark against the garrison
of Dublin, commanded by Miles de Cogan in the absence of the earl.
The attack was vigorous, and repelled with some loss; but with the
usual fortune of all the efforts hitherto made by the Irish against their
invaders, the first repulse was a decided and sanguinary defeat.

The report of Henry's approach excited no sensation among the
Irish. The little spirit of resistance which might yet remain was
much damped by the uniform failure of all the efforts which had been
successively made against the English. The vast accession of strength
which these were now to gain by the approach of the royal army, must
have been felt to render all resistance unavailing. But, in addition to
this, a lulling impression was produced by the specious manifestations of
the king. He professed to come over to assert his unquestioned sove-
reignty against invaders, who had usurped his power and made war
upon his subjects. Devoid of all sense of national existence, each
petty chieftain thought of his own interests alone, and looked either
with apathy, or with the malignity of some private resentment, on the
probable dissolution of their own monarch's power.

His preparations being complete, the king embarked at Milford,
and on the 18th October, 1171, landed at Croch,. near Waterford.
His force amounted to 500 knights, with about 4000 men, distributed
in 400 f vessels.

There was, on the intelligence of his landing, a general movement
through the country, among those whom his arrival impressed with fear
or expectation. The Wexford men, who had detained Fitz-Stephen,

* In the following note on the above extract, Mr Moore gives some curious par-
ticulars. " Lynch, feudal dignities, &c. Some of the smaller payments, as given
by this writer, are not a little curious. Thus we find 2b's. (id. paid for adorning and
gilding the king's swords; ;£]2 10s. for 1000 pounds of wax; 118s. 7d. for 569
pounds of almonds, sent to the king in Ireland; 15s. lid. for five carts." — Moore,
ii. 248.

t " 240" Ann. Ulat — quoted by Leland.

EARL STRONGBOW.

203

came and delivered him up, with themselves, their lands, and alle-
giance to the disposal of the king. They represented their zeal as
proved by the seizure of " a traitor to his sovereign," who had, without
warrant, " slaughtered their people, seized their lands, and attempted
to establish himself independent of his liege lord." The king received
them with expressions of favour, and declared that he would inquire
into the crimes of Fitz-Stephen, whom, in the meantime, with his
wonted double policy, he reprimanded and confined until he had
compelled the concession of his acquisitions as the price of favour and
freedom. On the same occasion, Strongbow made a formal cession of
Waterford, and did homage for his principality of Leinster. Dermod
Macarthy, prince of Desmond, was the first of the native princes who
submitted. On the next day after Henry's arrival, he came in, and
surrendering the dominion of his capital city of Cork, Henry re-
ceived his oath of fealty, confirmed his subordinate rights, and placed
a governor and garrison of his own in Cork. From Waterford he
marched to Lismore, and thence to Cashel, near which he received
the submission of O'Brien, prince of Limerick. It is not necessary
here to state the repetitions of the same proceeding, accompanied by
similar circumstances, which attended the successive steps of his pro-
gress, at every stage of which he was met by the submission and
homage of the neighbouring princes and chiefs, which he received
with a conciliating deportment, and secured by garrisons and gover-
nors. Among their names, as mentioned by Giraldus, that of O'llourke
arrests the attention of the reader. Roderic alone exhibited, in the
manner of his submission, some indications of reluctance. He came
no nearer than the Shannon, " which divideth Connaught from Meath,"
where he was met by Hugh de Lacy and William Fitz-Adelm, who re-
ceived his oath of allegiance, by which he declared himself tributary
to England.

The king kept the festival of Christmas in Dublin, near which he
had erected a palace of wattles for his residence. He was here at-
tended by most of the native chiefs, whose astonishment at his magni-
ficence is thus described by Giraldus : — " When they saw the great
abundance of victuals, and the noble services, as also the eating of
cranes, which they much loathed, being not before accustomed there-
unto, they much wondered and marvelled thereat, but in the end, they
being by the king's commandment set down, did also there eat and
drink among them."

During his stay, Henry assembled a synod at Cashel, composed chiefly
of the Irish prelates, in which many canons were decreed. To notice
these distinctly would lead us farther into the province of church history
than the purpose of this memoir admits of. Matthew Paris mentions a
lay council at Lismore, where " the laws of England were gratefully
accepted by all, and confirmed by the solemnity of an oath." Henry
next proceeded to Wexford, where he passed the remainder of his stay
in endeavouring to strengthen his hold on the faith and allegiance
of his principal English officers who were to remain in the country ;
and, above all, to secure himself against the power and influence of
Strongbow, to whom his jealousy was the source of much trouble and
vexation during the rest of his life.

204 THE INVADERS.

The absence of all news from England, owing to the weather having
been so unusually tempestuous, that for some months no ship approached
the Irish coast, had for some time much depressed the king's mind.
At last, about the middle of Lent, ships from England and France
brought intelligence of the fresh revolt of his ungrateful children, and
also of the arrival of the papal legates to place his kingdom under an
"interdict for the murder of Becket. These perplexing accounts ad-
fritted of no delay ; ordering his forces to Waterford, where his fleet
awaited him, he embarked for England on the 1 7th of April.

It is to be regretted that this able and sagacious monarch was not
allowed, by the course of events, to remain until he had completed the
structure of which he imperfectly laid the foundation. The quiet sub-
mission of the natives, with the sound method of equalizing and sooth-
ing policy by which it was obviously the king's intent and interest to
cement this newly acquired dominion with the mass of his kingdom,
by the only just and effective tie of a full intercommunity of interest
and laws, might be expected to have ultimately placed the interests of
the island on the securest foundation. Yet, however we may arrive
at this conclusion, and concur with those who are of opinion that such
would have been the most desirable result for the country and for the
body of the people; at the same time the general course of expe-
rience, from the history of similar changes, and especially the process
which had so recently altered the constitution and transferred the power
and property of England, warrants the added conclusion, that the con-
tinued attention of the king to Irish affairs — while it much enlarged
the basis of popular right, and much advanced the prospects of civili-
zation— by a succession of arbitrary interferences on slight pretexts,
would have made much more extensive transfers of the property of
the country. Fresh settlers would soon have brought with them new
demands on his bounty, and desires of extended settlement ; and causes
of exasperation would not have failed to furnish pretexts for a more
iron-handed subjugation. The course of events depends little on the
intent of the hand which sets them in motion ; strong necessities, which
arise from the cross winds of seeming chance and the complex cur-
rents of human passions, impel the subsequent course of policy with
forces which it is easier to speculate on than to govern. Slight griev-
ances would have produced discontents, which the direction of a more
arbitrary power would have settled more tranquilly, but more sternly.

As circumstances turned out, the jealousy of the king was not
directed towards the natives, of whose power of resistance he made
small account. But he felt afraid of the power of Strongbow, which,
from the extreme smallness of the English settlement, was likely (if
allowed) to grow into an ill-balanced and preponderant authority, in
which the temptations to disaffection would be strong. To control this,
Henry effected on a small scale, that which, if circumstances had in-
duced and warranted, he would have effected to a more serious extent.
He raised up several others into power, dignity, and wealth, with ex-
tensive allotments of land, and great privileges and immunities. He
gave Ulster to De Courcy, and Meath to De Lacy, and several grants
in like manner to others, whom, in the course of these memoirs, we shall
have distinct occasions to notice.

EARL STRONGBOW. 205

Earl Strongbow was thus placed in the mortifying position of a
subordinate, where he must have felt that he had the first claim, both
by right and rank. He retired to Ferns, for the marriage of his
daughter to De Quincy, to whom he gave large grants of lands. But
De Quincy was not long suffered to enjoy his honours ; Strongbow
being obliged to march into Ophaly to compel the payment of his tri-
bute, his force was attacked in the rear, and De Quincy, with many
others, slain, before order could be restored.

But the eclipse of Strongbow's favour quickly passed away. King
Henry became the object of a powerful confederacy. The unnatural
rebellion of his unruly sons was joined by many foreign potentates,
who were jealous of his greatness, and hostilities began to menace
him from every side. Among other steps for his defence, he was oblig*ed
to draw forces from Ireland. Strongbow was foremost in this moment
of emergency, and displayed such zeal and efficiency, that Henry
trusted him with the government of Gisors. The effects of this step
were highly detrimental to the interests of the Irish settlement: the
absence of the troops and chief leaders excited a general insurrection
of the native chiefs, which we shall again have to notice more fully.

These troubles were heightened by dissensions among the English
leaders who remained, and matters were proceeding to a dangerous length,
when Henry resolved to send Strongbow over, as the only person whose
authority was likely to have weight with all. Having communicated
this design to Strongbow, the earl, aware of the jealous temper of the
king, proposed that he should have a colleague joined in commission
with him ; by this he also hoped to be able to turn aside the jealousy
of his rivals and enemies. Henry would not consent to the proposal
of a colleague, but gave his consent to have Kaymond le Gros em-
ployed in any service he might think fit. He also granted to Strong-
bow, on this occasion, the town of Wexford, together with a fort
erected at Wickjow.

On landing in Ireland, Strongbow quickly found himself immersed
in distresses of no light order. Obliged to send off Fitz-Stephen,
De Prendergast, De Lacy, De Cogan, and others, with a considerable
force for the service of Henry, with a weakened army he had to con-
tend with the increasing opposition of the Irish chiefs. The soldiery
were on the point of mutiny, from their discontent with the command
of Hervey de Montmorres, and at last positively refused to march or
obey orders, unless under the command of their favourite leader Ray-
mond. Strongbow was obliged to comply ; and, in order to propitiate
discontents justly excited by their pay having been allowed to fall
into arrears, he sent them on an expedition into Ophaly, where a rich
plunder was to be expected. Raymond led them into Ophaly, where
they met with no resistance ; and not long after obtained a slight suc-
cess in the field over Malachy, prince of Desmond, which had the good
effect of restoring alacrity and confidence to his army.

This beneficial effect was in some degree counteracted by the com-
bined incapacity and rashness of Hervey de Montmorres, who, jealous
of the success, fame, and favour of Raymond, was anxious to do some-
thing to raise his own character. He availed himself of the pliability
of Strongbow, whose mind being rather fitted for the field than for the

206 THE INVADERS.

council, disposed him very much to be led by the suggestions of others :
and proposed to him a specious plan of operations to suppress the tur-
bulent spirit of the Munster chiefs. The only result of this plan,
was the surprise of a body of Danish troops, who had been injudiciously
ordered to march from Dublin to join the English. O'Brien allowed
them to march as far as Thurles, without meeting any indication
which might awaken their vigilance. Here they encamped, in the
carelessness of perfect security, and, when they least expected, found
themselves defenceless and in the power of an armed force, which burst
into their encampment, and, without resistance, slaughtered four hun-
dred men with their leaders.

The incident was productive of the worst consequences. Strongbow
himself, alarmed by a disaster so little to be anticipated, retreated into
Waterford. The Irish chieftains rose in arms ; and, at a preconcerted
signal, Donald Kavanagh, who from the beginning had sided with the
English, now thinking that this reverse left an opening for him to lay
claim to his father's province, withdrew his fidelity, and asserted his
right to Leinster; while the brave king of Connaught, hoping at last
some prospect of union and fidelity from this show of zeal, once more
exerted his activity in an endeavour to combine the chiefs, and give
method and concert to their efforts.

Strongbow, in this emergency, became sensible of the necessity of
Raymond's services. He had offended this eminent soldier by the
refusal of his sister; he now sent to solicit his presence, and made the
lady's hand the price of conciliation. Raymond came, and brought
with him a well appointed force from Wales. Collecting thirty of his
own relations, with a hundred horse and three hundred archers, he
embarked in twenty transports, and landed at Waterford.

It was agreed between Strongbow and Raymond, to march without
delay to Wexford. Departing, they left a small, but as they thought
sufficient, garrison behind them. The event was nearly fatal to this
body. The townsmen of Waterford were secretly disaffected to the
English, and thinking they had now a fair opportunity to seize on the
town, they concerted their measures for this purpose. The garrison
took no precautions against an enemy of which they had no suspicion ;
but acted as if among friends. Their commander crossed the Suir in a
boat with few attendants; his whole party were suddenly assailed and
murdered by the boatmen, who, it is to be supposed, went prepared for
the purpose. This horrible deed was the signal for massacre ; the
bloody tidings were scarcely echoed from the observers on the shore,
when the English were simultaneously attacked, and all who were
unarmed, without distinction of age or sex, became the helpless victims.
Of the garrison many were in the citadel, and many who were abroad
contrived to join them. Arming themselves, they sallied forth into
the streets, and soon reduced the rabble, who had attempted to besiege
them, to sue for quarter and invent excuses for their treason.

Strongbow in the meantime staid in Wexford. Thither his sister
Basilia had repaired, with a splendid retinue from Dublin, and was
married to Raymond le Gros. The rejoicings were suddenly arrested
by the startling intelligence that Roderic, still indefatigable in an
ill-supported opposition, had passed the Shannon at the head of the

EARL STRONGBOW.

207

combined army of the Irish chiefs, and entering Meath had expelled
the English, and devastated the land to the walls of Duhlin. There
was a sudden stop to the festal proceedings ; Raymond was compelled
to change his festal weed and softer cares, for a sterner attire and
purpose. He marched to Dublin, resolved to meet and crush the con-
federacy which had thus inopportunely called him to the field. But
with the usual inconsistency of such confederacies, the impulse of the
chiefs, who had no common object, had exhausted itself in the ravage
of a province ; and Roderic was left alone before the enemy had time
to come up. Disappointed and depressed by this further evidence of
the hopelessness of the cause, in which he felt himself alone, he endea-
voured, by a judicious retreat, to save his own small party.

Strongbow, with Raymond, arrived in time to convert the retreat of
some of the numerous parties, which had thus fallen asunder, into a
destructive flight. They restored the English settlement, and had
the forts rebuilt at the cost of Tyrrel, who governed there for Hugh
de Lacy.

Many circumstances now occurred which seemed to give some
assurance of union and prosperity to the English; but in the midst of
these events, Strongbow's death took place in Dublin, after a tedious
and painful illness, in the month of May, 1177- Raymond, apprized
of this event by a letter from his wife, hurried privately to Dublin,
and, with the archbishop, Lawrence O'Toole, solemnized his funeral.
Strongbow was interred in Christ church, to which he had (with
other English leaders) made considerable additions.*

The following description has been transmitted by Giraldus, of his
person and character: —

" Earl Strongbow was of a complexion somewhat sanguine and
spotted ; his eyes grey, his countenance feminine, his voice small, his
neck slender, but in most other particulars he was well formed and
tall; liberal and courteous in his manners; and what he could not
gain by power, he frequently obtained by an insinuating address. In
peace he was more disposed to obey than to govern. His state and
authority were reserved for the camp, and were supported with the
utmost dignity. He was diffident of his own judgment, cautious of
proposing his own plans of operation ; but in executing those of others,
undaunted and vigorous. In battle, he was the standard on which his
soldiers fixed their eyes, and by whose motions they were determined
either to advance or to retreat. His temper was composed and uni-
form ; not dejected by misfortune, nor elated by success."

* " Laurence, archbishop of Dublin, Richard, surnamed Strongbow, earl of
Strigul, Robert Fitz-Stephens, and Raymond le Gros, undertook to enlarge this
church, and at their own charges built the choir, the steeple, and two chapels ; one
dedicated to St Edmund, king and martyr, and to St Mary, called the White, and
the other to St Laud." — Harris's Jf'are.

208

THE INVADERS.

HUGH DE LACY.

DIED A. D. 1186.

THE reader is already aware that, on the 14th October, 1172, king
Henry landed at Waterford with a train of four hundred knights.
Among these was Hugh de Lacy, a Norman by descent, and high in
the favour and confidence of the king.

In his arrangements for the purpose of counterbalancing the rising
power of Strongbow, we have mentioned already that Henry raised
several of his knights into power and possession : amongst these De
Lacy was the foremost. The grant of Meath, and the government of
Dublin, conjointly with Maurice Fitz-Gerald and Robert Fitz-Stephen,
laid, on broad foundations, the long-continued power and importance
of his family.

He was immediately after left chief governor of Ireland; and during
the season of his administration, had the adventure with O'Ruark,*
prince of Brefni, which we have now to record.

Outraged by the infidelity of his wife, and the libertinism of the
prince of Leinster, as already recorded in the memoir of Macmurragh,
which commences the present series; compelled also to this course by
the necessity of his position, in the very centre ot the seat of a conflict
for territory which lasted through the remainder of his life; O'Ruark
was a party in every contest and confederacy by which the English
might be unfixed from their acquisitions.

Although the province of Meath had been granted to De Lacy, yet.
by virtue of arrangements made by Roderic, O'Ruark was still allowed
to retain possession of the eastern territory of this province. Unsatis-
fied with a portion of his ancient possessions, and apprehending, not
without reason, the effect of further encroachment, he repaired to
Dublin and demanded redress from De Lacy. A conference ensued,
which led to no accommodation. Another meeting was appointed,
which was to take place on the hill of Tara. This was in accordance
with the ancient custom of Ireland, by which differences between chiefs
were to be settled by a meeting in some place distant from the dwell-
ing of both, where neither might have any advantage of force; and
on some open hill, where the danger of treachery might be more easily
guarded against.

Cambrensis and, after him, most of our authorities mention, that the
night before this conference was to take place, Griffith, the brother to
Raymond le Gros, had a dream, in which he thought he saw a flock of
wild boars rushing upon De Lacy and his uncle Maurice Fitz-Gerald;
and that one more fierce and monstrous than the others was about to
kill them, when he saved them by slaying the monster. Alarmed by
this dream, which was the natural result of the workings of an appre-

* There is some difference among historians as to the identity of the native"
chief concerned in this adventure. Cox names O'Meloghlin — but we have relied
on the judgment of Leland.

HUGH DE LACY. 209

hensive understanding, excited by the interest of the occasion, and the
restless alertness of youth, Griffith the next morning would have dis-
suaded the English chiefs from the meeting. De Lacy was not to be
deterred by a dream, although the issue which it seemed to forebode
was always the highly probable end of such meetings. Griffith, how-
ever, was not so easily dispossessed of the apprehension thus awakened
in his mind. He selected seven associates, all distinguished for valour,
and repairing to the place of meeting, he approached the spot where
the conference was to be held, as near as the arrangements of the par-
ties would admit of; and while the conference went on uninterruptedly,
they rode about the field affecting to engage in chivalric exercises.
For a little while all went on with temper, although without any ap-
proach to amicable agreement, between O'Ruark on one part, and De
Lacy with Maurice Fitz-Gerald on the other. Suddenly O'Ruark,
under some pretext, retired some way from where they stood, and,
when at a safe distance, made a signal. It was instantly answered by
the sudden appearance of an armed party who came rapidly up the
hill. They were already upon the English lords, before the attention
of Griffith's party was caught by their appearance: De Lacy and
Maurice had therefore to fight for their lives.

So rapid was their approach that De Lacy, whose back was turned,
was taken by surprise. Maurice Fitz-Gerald saw his danger, drew his
sword, and called out to warn him; but O'Ruark, whose party had in
the meantime surrounded them, rushing at De Lacy, attempted to
strike him with his battle-axe before he could put himself in a posture
of defence ; the blow was fortunately warded off by his interpreter,
whom it laid on the ground. De Lacy was twice struck down, but 'a
stroke which would have ended his life was warded off by Fitz-Gerald,
whom the chance of the struggle brought near. A few seconds were
enough for this rapid and violent action ; another instant might have
been fatal ; but Griffith and his gallant party were now on the spot, and
the assailants were endeavouring to escape. O'Ruark ran towards his
horse, which stood close by where he had left it on first alighting to
the conference; he was just in the act of mounting, when the spear
of Griffith passed through his body. His party was then attacked
and put to flight with some slaughter. His death removed a seri-
ous obstacle to the ambition of De Lacy. This incident occurred
in 1173.

De Lacy married a daughter of Roderic O'Conor, king of Connaught,
the effect of which was to cause his recall in 1180. His government
had, however, given satisfaction. He had preserved order, and mate-
rially strengthened the English settlement. He had by this time also
built many well-situated castles ; castle Dermot, Leighlin, Leix, Delvin,
Carlow, Tullaghphelim, and Kilkay.

In three months after, therefore, he was restored, and, as well as we
can collect, continued till 1184. He was during this time as active and
efficient as at first, and raised forts as numerous in Leinster as before
in Meath. He employed the bravest adventurers, where their valour
and activity might be as a safeguard to the bordering settlements, and
administered justice impartially and mildly. The natural effect of such
conduct was, to raise his authority in the country; his rivals, taking

I. o Ir.

210

THE INVADERS.

the usual advantage of this, again contrived to rouse the jealousy of
Henry, and in 1184 he was displaced, and De Braosa sent in his room.
It was during this interval that the romantic career of John de Courcy
commenced under the auspices of De Lacy, to whose government his
military prowess was an efficient support.

De Braosa's misconduct soon awakened Henry to a sense of the
impolicy and injustice of the change which had superseded the vigour
and experience of Hugh de Lacy ; and he would have been once more
reinstated, but a fatal and atrocious outrage deprived the king of his
services. The impolicy of De Braosa had involved the settlement in
commotion; incursions into Meath had done considerable mischief
within the territories of De Lacy ; and he was himself, with his charac-
teristic ardour, engaged in repairing his forts. It was his custom to
superintend, and occasionally to take part in the work, a practice ex-
plained by the rough and manly habits of his age, when all sorts of
physical exertion were familiar in the highest rank. One of the forts
he was thus engaged with was founded on the site of an ancient abbey
at Dorrowe, or Derwath. The respectable prejudices of the people
were shocked by the profanation of a site, rendered sacred in their
eyes by the recollections it bore. This feeling fermented among a
multitude, until it awakened the fanaticism of one among the workmen;
excited to a high degree by this insane affection, he resolved on the mur-
der of the knight. For this purpose he concealed a battle-axe under
the ample folds of his mantle, and when De Lacy stooped down, either
in explaining his orders, or to make some exertion, he seized the occa-
sion, and with a blow struck off his head.

MAURICE FITZ-GERALD.

DIED A. D. 1177.

THE origin of this illustrious ancestor of a race whose history is for
ages identified with that of Ireland, is derived by the heralds from Otho,
a noble descended from the dukes of Tuscany, and contemporary with
king Alfred. The family are supposed to have come over with the
Normans into England, and finally to have settled in Wales. Dugdale,
however, affirms that Otho was an English baron, in the reign of
Edward the Confessor; but this inconsistency between the two ac-
counts, may be simply due to the confusion of the common name of
two different persons, both probably of the same race. Of the latter
person of this name, it is said that he was father to Walter Fitz-Otho,
who in 1078 was castellan of Windsor, and appointed by William the
Conqueror warden of the forests of Berkshire, being then possessed
of two lordships in that county, three in Surrey, three in Dorsetshire,
four in Middlesex, nine in Wiltshire, one in Somerset, and ten in the
county of Southampton.* He married the daughter of n Welsh chief
or prince, Rywall-ap-Cotwyn, by whom he had three sons, Gerald,
Robert, and William.

* Lodge, i. 55.

MAURICE FITZGERALD.

211

Of these, heralds have had much discussion, without being able to
settle the seniority. " Gerald, the eldest son, in the earl of Kildare's
pedigree," observes Lodge, " being made the youngest in the earl of
Kerry's, drawn in the year 1615, and attested by Sir William Seager,
garter king of arms, who is followed by his successors, Dugdale
and Anstis, for which they assign this reason, viz., That the appella-
tion of Fitz- Walter was given to this Gerald, because he was the
younger son. To controvert this is to encounter great authority;
but we think it deserves an inquiry, how the consequences of his beino-
a younger son, can be drawn from his having the appellation of Fitz-
Walter ? The custom of that age warrants us to affirm the contrary,
and to assert that the eldest son (especially) assumed for his surname
the Christian name of his father, with the addition of Fitz, &c., of
which many instances occur in this very family ; and this continued
in use till surnames began to be fixed about the time of king Edward
I."* We do not consider the question material to be settled here,
and quote so far for the sake of the incidental matter.

On the revolt of a WTelsh prince, Fitz-Walter was employed by
Henry I. to reduce him to submission; and on his success, was ap-
pointed president of the county of Pembroke, and rewarded with ex-
tensive grants in Wales. From this he settled there, and married
Nesta, the daughter of a Welsh prince. The history of this lady
offers a curious illustration of the lax morality of the llth century.
She had been mistress to king Henry I., by whom she had a son; she
was next married to Stephen, constable of the castles of Pembroke
and Cardigan ; .and lastly, to Gerald Fitz-Walter. The fortune which
united her descendants in the common enterprise which forms the
main subject of this period, is not less remarkable; for Meiler
Fitz-Henry, Robert Fitz-Stephen, and Maurice Fitz-Gerald, were
thus related by the mother's side.

Maurice came over with Fitz-Stephen in 1168, and took a prin-
cipal part in all the successes and hardships which followed. When
Henry paid his visit to the island, at his departure in 1 1 73, he left
Maurice as governor conjointly with Hugh de Lacy. In discharge of
this important trust he performed many important services. It was
during this administration that the occurrence of O'Ruark's attempted
treachery and violent death, already related, took place.

The affairs of Henry became, at this time, deeply involved. The
repeated rebellions of his turbulent and ungrateful sons were becom-
ing more formidable as they became more influentially connected with
foreign politics, and supported by the power and political intrigue of
his enemies. He was menaced by a dangerous war, which made it
necessary for him to draw away his Irish forces, with the most expe-
rienced and trustworthy of their leaders. Among these, Maurice was
thus removed from the scene where his wisdom and valour were so
much required; and it was not till 1176, that he was again brought
back by the earl of Pembroke. From this nobleman he received
large grants in Leinster, among which was a renewal of the king's
grant of the barony of Ophaly, and the castle of Wicklow.f

* Lodge, note 55.

•)• Then Wykenlooe. — Lodge.

212 . THE INVADERS.

Maurice died in the autumn of the following year, 1 1 77, and was
buried in the Grey Friars, near Wexford; he left four sons, and one
daughter. Of these, Gerald was the elder ; the second, William, left
a daughter, through whom the barony of Naas descended to the lords
Gormanstown.

ROBERT FITZ-STEPHEN.
DIED A. D. 1182.

IF it were our object to relate the history of this entire period under
the head of a single life, the fittest for selection would be that of
Robert Fitz-Stephen. But there are few particulars of his eventful
and active course, which are not mentioned in their place. By mater-
nal descent he was brother to the Fitz-Geralds — the mother of both
having been Nesta, the daughter of Rees ap Tudor, who after an
illegitimate union with Henry the First, was married first to Stephen
(Gustos Campe Abertivi), by whom she had Fitz-Stephen, and then
to Gerald the son of Otho, and castellan of Windsor.

The lands in Ireland granted to Fitz-Stephen were, first, a share in
two cantreds near Wexford, granted by Dermod M'Murragh between
him and Maurice Fitz-Gerald, on the capture of Wexford. The city of
Wexford shortly after fell into his possession; but this he was forced
to give up to king Henry, as the price of his liberty, when, by a most
base perjury, with the connivance of two bishops, Malachy O'Brin and
John O'Hethe, he was cajoled into a surrender of his person into the
hands of those who besieged him in his castle of Carrig.

His services were afterwards requited, by a grant from the king to
himself and Miles de Cogan, of the kingdom of Cork, from Lismore
to the sea, with the exception of the city of Cork. This grant was to
be held of the king by a service of sixty knights. The settlement, on
being claimed, was disputed by the native chiefs of the province, who,
with great justice, submitted that they had not resisted king Henry, or
committed any act to which the penalty of forfeiture could be attached.
The remonstrance was too obviously just, not to be allowed some
weight. Fortunately for the peace of this district, neither party was
possessed of the means of resistance : a few slight skirmishes satisfied
each, that no decisive result was likely to follow the appeal to force,
and a compromise was made to the satisfaction of the new grantees.
By this agreement, the English chiefs were allowed to hold seven
cantreds near Cork, the remaining twenty-four being retained by the
native chiefs.

Fitz- Stephen's life had been one of great exertion and vicissitude.
His old age was one of severe afflictions. Miles de Cogan his kinsman
and friend, and his son Ralph Fitz-Stephen, who had not long been
married to Miles' daughter, were, on their way to Waterford, engaged
to pass a night at the house of a native, of the name of Mac Tire.
This vile miscreant had been on terms of friendly intimacy with his
victims, and, considering their wealth and power, it is probable that he
had obtained their confidence, by having received kindness from their
families. Nothing had occurred, it is evident, to lessen their reliance

RAYMOND LE GROS. . 213

on the friendly hospitality of their host, at whose instance their
journey had been undertaken, and by whose special invitation they were
his guests. The particulars cannot with any certainty be described,
but it is certain that, in a moment of confiding security, they were
assassinated, with five followers, in the house of their perfidious host.

This event excited terror amongst the followers of the English
knight, and an ill-warranted sense of triumph among the natives. The
account quickly spread, and became the signal for war and tumult ;
Macarthy of Desmond, who yet retained the title of king of Cork,
collected his followers and laid siege to the city of Cork. Fitz-Stephen,
overwhelmed by his recent calamity, was little capable of resistance.
In this affliction his friends had recourse to Raymond le Gros, who,
coming from Wexford by sea, with twenty knights and one hundred
archers, compelled Macarthy to submission. Poor Fitz-Stephen,
received no consolation from this service. A life of severe toil and
vicissitude, had worn his strength; he had been heavily afflicted by the
loss of another, it is said, his favourite son : this last trial overcame
him, and his rescuer found him deprived of reason.

On his death, the Carews laid claim to his estate. But Ware writes
that the claim was set aside on the ground of Fitz-Stephen's being
illegitimate. The plea on which legal decision can have been grounded,
is likely to have some foundation ; but it seems inconsistent with the
concurrent testimonies of history, which agree in representing his
mother Nesta as having been married to Stephen. The facts are,
however, not directly contradictory ; and it must be admitted, that in
the statements of the annalists of the period, accuracy is not the prin-
cipal recommendation.

RAYMOND LE GROS.

DIED A. D. 1184.

RAYMOND FITZ- GERALD, called, from his large person and full
habits, Le Gros, was the son of William Fitz-Gerald, and grandson
of Gerald of Windsor, and the bravest of the first adventurers who, in
the 12th century, sought and found fortune in this island. From
the beginning his courage and prowess were signalized by those hardy
and prompt feats of valour which, in the warfare of that age, when so
much depended on personal address and strength, were often important
enough to decide the fortune of the field. And there is hardly one of
the combats which we have had occasion to notice, which does not offer
some special mention of his name. We shall take up his history a
little back, among the events we have just related.

When Strongbow had been summoned to attend the English mon-
arch, the command of the forces in Ireland was committed to the
care of Montmorres, to whom Raymond was second in command. This
combination was productive of some jealousy on the part of Mont-
morres, which led to ill offices, and ripened into mutual animosity.
Montmorres was proud, tenacious of the privileges and dignity of his
station, and felt the acrimony of an inferior mind excited against one,

THE INVADERS.

whose soldier-like virtues and brilliant actions rendered him the mark
of general admiration and the idol of the soldiery. Montmorres was
an exactor of discipline on slight occasions, and appeared more anxious
to vindicate his authority, than to consult the comfort, interest or
safety of the army ; while Raymond, on the contrary, showed in all his
acts and manners the most ready and earnest zeal for the welfare and
security of every individual. Frank and easy in his address, he pre-
served no unnecessary distance ; and seemed more ready to endure
hardship, and face danger himself, than to impose them on others.

The influence of these qualities, so attractive in a rude and warlike
age, was not confined to the soldiery. Raymond's reputation stood at
the highest among the leaders ; and when Stronghow desired a col-
league of the king, he at the same time named Raymond as the
worthiest and most efficient of these adventurers. When Strongbow
arrived in Ireland, he found the cry of discontent loud against Mont-
morres; and we have already related how Raymond's merit was
enforced by the soldiers, who presented themselves in a body to demand
him for their leader. The first exploit which was the result of his
appointment, we have briefly mentioned. The troops destined for
England, had been attacked after their embarkation, by the people of
Cork. The assault was however repelled. Raymond having heard
of the incident, was hastening with a small party of twenty knights
and sixty horsemen to their aid, when his way was intercepted by
Macarthy; a short struggle ensued, in which Macarthy was worsted
and obliged to retreat, though with a force vastly superior. Raymond,
with a large and rich spoil, entered Waterford in triumph.

Raymond had long entertained a passion for Basilia, the sister of
Strongbow. But the earl had uniformly turned a deaf ear to his
solicitations on this head. Raymond however now entertained the
notion that his rising fame, his acknowledged usefulness, and the
earl's own preference for him might avail to ensure a more favourable,
answer. But the earl, while he felt the full value of Raymond's
services, did not much wish to place a leader of such popularity,
and so likely to force his way to pre-eminence, on a level of advantage
so near himself. He therefore received the overtures of Raymond
with a coldness which gave offence to the pride of this brave warrior,
who, with the resentment provoked by a strong sense of injured merit
and unrequited service, retired hastily into Wales.

It was during his absence that the misfortunes, recited in the last
memoir, arose from the precipitate ambition and incapacity of Mont-
morres, followed by the insurrection of the chiefs, and the bold but vain
attempt of Roderic.

In his retirement Raymond was gratified by a despatch from the
earl, entreating his prompt assistance, and offering him the hand of
Basilia, with his other demands, viz., the post of constable and
standard-bearer of Leinster. The triumph of Raymond was indeed
decisive ; the incapacity of his rival and enemy was the cause of the
disasters which he was thus called upon to repair: his merit was
amply vindicated from the slight it had sustained, and acknowledged
by the gratification of his utmost wishes. Collecting a well-appointed
and brave though small force, he came over and landed in Waterford.

EAYMOND LE GROS. 215

We have already related the main particulars of his marriage in
Wexford, and with it the interruption of his happiness by the iron
call of war. On this occasion he received a large grant of lands, as
the dowry of his wife, and was made constable and standard-bearer
of Leinster.* The spontaneous dispersion of the Irish confederacy
followed.

Raymond was next sent to besiege Limerick. The city had been
seized by the prince of Thomond, and was at this time in his posses-
sion. Raymond, with six hundred chosen men, marched to besiege
it. Arriving at the banks of the Shannon, his advance was checked
by broken bridges and a broad and dangerous stream. In this emer-
gency two knights volunteered to try the way, and, entering the river
where appearances were most favourable, they made their way across
in safety; but, on their return, one was swept down the current and
lost. A third knight, who had followed, passed safely, but remained
in danger from the near approach of the enemy. There was some
hesitation among the troops ; when Raymond spurred forward from
the rear, entered the stream, and called on his men to follow. The
example of their chief gave confidence; and, without further hesita-
tion, the whole body advanced into the rough and rapid waters, and,
with the loss of two men, gained the opposite bank. The reader will
best conceive the bravery of this exploit from its effect. The enemy
— rough, hardy, and inured to the hardships of exposure and strife —
were so astonished at the feat, that they fled without a blow. The
English lost no time in this position, but at once pursued them; and,
after a considerable slaughter of the fugitives, they obtained posses-
sion of the city without further resistance.

This success confirmed the fortune and fame of Raymond; but
the envy of his rival was not asleep. Montmorres appears to have be-
longed to that low order of minds which shrink from open enmity, and
adopt the safer and more cowardly alternative of carrying on their
schemes under the hollow cover of a perfidious friendship. Such,
if we are to credit Cambrensis, was the circuitous path followed by
Hervey, who may perhaps have consulted other feelings, but certain-
ly pursued revenge in seeking the advantages and opportunities of a
near alliance with his rival. He married the daughter of Maurice
Fitz-Gerald, the uncle of Raymond, and thus at once placed himself
within the circumvallation of domestic confidence. He was not long
before he availed himself of this position for the basest purposes.
He despatched secret messengers to Henry, informing him of the
dangerous course of Raymond's ambition, and assuring him, on the
authority of a near kinsman, that his aspiring temper knew no limit
short of the independent sovereignty of the kingdom; that for this
purpose he studied the arts of a factious popularity; that he had
secured Limerick, and propagated a secret feeling of disaffection to
the king and devotion to himself through the whole army.

The consequence of representations thus proceeding from so autho-
ritative a quarter, and backed by so many seeming confirmations,
alarmed the cautious mind of Henry; he therefore, without delay,

* Leland, i. 109.

216

THE INVADERS.

sent over four commissioners, of whom two were to conduct Raymond
to the king, and the others to remain in order to watch the conduct
of Strongbow, and obtain a general insight into the dispositions of the
other leaders.

Raymond was at no loss to comprehend the whole machinery which
had been set in motion against him. He declared his willingness to
wait on the king. But while delays arose from the state of the wea-
ther, which prevented the ships from leaving port, an account came
that the prince of Thomond had laid siege to Limerick ; and that the
garrison was in want of provisions, and, if not quickly relieved, must
perish by famine or the enemy. This emergency was rendered criti-
cal by the illness of Strongbow. The earl, nevertheless, mustered his
troops, and made the necessary preparations for their march. When
all was ready, the soldiers refused to proceed without their favourite
leader, under whom alone they had been accustomed to march to cer-
tain victory. The commissioners were consulted ; and, seeing the ne-
cessity, consented that Raymond should take the command. But Ray •
mond refused. It became, therefore, necessary for the earl and the
commissioners to descend to the most earnest and pressing solicitations,
to which he at length yielded with seeming reluctance and real triumph.
The malice of his enemy had but given additional eclat to his fame.

He marched at the head of an army composed of eighty knights,
with two hundred horsemen and three hundred archers. With these,
a native force, under the prince of Ossory, swelled his numbers.

At his approach the prince of Thomond abandoned the siege, and
coming to meet him, occupied a defile through which the path of the
English lay; there, posting his men according to the well known
tactics of the country, he awaited the approach of Raymond. The
English leader soon obtained a view of the ambuscade, and calmly
prepared to force his way through a position of which the dangers
were so great and apparent, that it diffused terror and doubt among his
allies. This sense was increased by the Cool and deliberate deport-
ment, and tranquil preparations of Raymond: the steady composure,
too, of the English soldiers was little to be understood by the ardour
of the Irish temperament. The prince of Ossory, under this falla-
cious impression, thought fit to address a remonstrance to the English
knight. He bluntly informed Raymond that he had no alternative
between destruction and victory. He pointed out his unprotected situ-
ation in the case of defeat; and told him, with a frankness whicli
marks the low civilization of this period, that, if the day went against
him, his Irish allies would instantly join the enemy for his destruction.
Raymond received the exhortation with a stern smile, and answered
it by commanding an immediate onset. The Irish received the attack
with their native spirit, but with the result to be looked for from the
superior arms and discipline of the assailants; they were driven with
great slaughter from their intrenchments, and scattered in utter and
irretrievable rout and confusion over the country. So great was this
confusion, and so far did it spread, that the whole of Munster felt the
shock. O'Brien, hitherto implacable in his enmity, saw the danger
of allowing hostilities to proceed under such an aspect of circum-
stances. He proposed an interview with Raymond.

KAYMOND LE GROS. 217

It happened, at the same time, that the king of Connaught, who
had for some time begun to see plainly the folly of sacrificing his
own province for the liberation of chiefs who would not be delivered
by him — resolved to leave them at last to their fate, and to save the
poor remains of his monarchy. For this purpose he sought the
English camp, and arrived on the same day that O'Brien came in for
the like purpose. Raymond had thus the honour of receiving the
oaths and hostages of these two most respectable and formidable of the
native princes ; and by one signal action bringing the war to a termi-
nation with greater advantages than had yet been obtained.

A tragic romance in the family of a Munster chief — Macarthy of
Desmond — afforded a fair pretext for continuing his operations in the
field. Cormac, the eldest son of Macarthy, rose in rebellion against
his father; and having thrown him into prison, seized possession of
his territories. Macarthy had sworn allegiance to the king of Eng-
land, and now claimed the protection of the English general, with
promises of ample advantages, should he, by his means, obtain his
freedom and power. Raymond unhesitatingly complied. Entering
the territory of Desmond, he soon made it appear to the rebellious
and unnatural Cormac that there was no resource short of unquali-
fied submission. He yielded — his father was released and reinstated
in his possessions : and Cormac thrown into the same dungeon which
he had assigned to his father. Here the fate he amply merited was
not long deferred. The gratitude of Macarthy was attested by a
liberal grant to Raymond of territories, which he transmitted to his
posterity ; while an abundant supply for the wants of his army, gave
an importance to this service in the estimation of the army and the
commissioners.

It was at this period, that he received from his wife a letter, con-
taining the following mystic enunciation: —

" Know, my dear lord, that my great cheek tooth, which was wont
to ache so much, is now fallen out ; wherefore, if you have any care or
regard of me, or of yourself, come away with all speed."*

This communication, implying the death of Strongbow, was easily
interpreted by Raymond, who set off without delay. The situation
was one of great emergency. The troops were felt to be necessary,
for the preservation of the English province thus deprived of its
governor; and Raymond felt the mortifying sense, that their removal
would be the signal for the native chiefs to renew their hostilities, and
seize on the unprotected city. There yet was no alternative. In this
situation, it occurred to him to make an experiment on the generosity
and fidelity of the chief of Thomond. Sending for this prince, he
assumed a confidential manner, and told him that as he was now become
one of the great barons of the king, it was fit that he should receive,
as such, a mark of confidence, suited to the high dignity of the rank:
with this view it was now, he informed him, resolved to intrust him
with the charge of Limerick, that he might have occasion to approve
his attachment, and to merit added honours.

But Raymond had met with his superior in the game which he new

* Girald. Cox. Hanmer.

218

THE INVADERS.

ventured to play. The secret triumph of the Celt was concealed under
the impenetrable aspect of simple faith, and by professions of cordial
gratitude and lasting attachment. Without the slightest symptom of
reluctant hesitation, he took the oaths required for the safe custody
and faithful restoration of the town. Raymond, felicitating himself on
the success of his expedient, now proceeded to march out of the town.
He was scarcely over the bridge, when it was broken down at the
other end ; nor had he proceeded much farther, when he saw the flames
arise in different quarters.

This occurrence was reported to the king, it is said, with the hope
of exciting a prejudice against Raymond in his mind. But the effect
was different. He is reported to have observed, " that the first gain-
ing of Limerick was a noble exploit, the recovery of it still nobler ; but
that the only act of wisdom was the manner of its abandonment."

On the death of Strongbow, the council in Dublin, acting on a just
sense of expediency, chose Raymond as his successor in the govern-
ment, and their choice met the sanction of the king's commissioners.
But the jealousy of the king had been too effectually worked upon by
the artful misrepresentations of interested and angry enemies. He
resolved to intrust the government to William Fitz-Adelm, whom he
now sent into Ireland with twenty knights. With him he sent John de
Courcy, Robert Fitz-Stephen, and Miles de Cogan, as an escort, with
ten knights to each. With these came Vivian, the pope's legate, and
Nicholas Wallingford, an English priest, bearing the brief of pope
Alexander, in confirmation of the king's title to the sovereignty of
Ireland.

Raymond received the new governor with the respect due to the
king's representative, and delivered up the forts, towns, hostages, &c.
On this occasion it is mentioned, by several of the Irish historians, on
the authority of Cambrensis, that the new governor looked with a
malignant eye on the numbers and splendour of Raymond's train, and
turning to those who surrounded him observed, that he should soon
find means to curtail this display.

He kept his word as far as he could, and Raymond was one of the
English settlers who felt the weight of his oppressive government.
His public career appears to have terminated from this : his name no
more occupies a place in the history of the period. It appears that he
lived in retirement on his property, near Wexford, and left his wife
still living at his death. In 1182 we meet him once more in arms, in
aid of his uncle Fitz-Stephen, who was in danger of being attacked by
superior numbers in Cork. This event was quickly followed by occa-
sions in which he could not have failed to be a party, and we may ven-
ture to assume that his death happened within the next two years.

DE COURCY.

DIED A. D. 1210.

JOHN, baron de Stoke Courcy, descended from Charles duke of Lor-
raine, the son of Louia IV. of France, who reigned in the 12th century.

DE COUKCY.

219

His ancestor Richard, son and successor to the first baron, accompa-
nied William the Conqueror to England, where he distinguished him-
self at the battle of Hastings, and obtained large grants in the divi-
sion of the spoil. Among these was Stoke, in the county of Somerset,
which thence obtained the name of Stoke Courcy. His son Robert,
was steward of the household to Henry I. The next descendant,
William, also bore an office of power in the royal household; but
having no issue, was succeeded by his brother Robert, whose son
William died in 1171, and was succeeded by the celebrated warrior
who is the subject of the present memoir.*

Sir John, baron de Stoke Courcy, served Henry II. in all his French
wars; but our information as to the detail of the earlier portions of
his history, is neither full or satisfactory. Among the circumstances
which have any distinct relation to the after course of his life, may be
mentioned a friendship contracted with Sir Armoric de Valence, who
married his sister, and was the brave and faithful partner of his ad-
ventures in Ireland, where, like him, he also became the founder of an
illustrious Irish house. These two knights became sworn brothers in
arms, in the church of " Our Lady" at Rome, where they pledged them-
selves by a solemn vow to live and die together, and to divide faith-
fully between them the winnings of their valour. This vow they
observed through a long course of service in France and England.
At last they were destined to have their fidelity proved, with equal
honour, in a trial of sterner dangers and more rich temptations.

In 1179, after Strongbow's death, De Courcy came to Ireland with
Fitz- Adelm, whom Henry sent over as deputy-governor. Fitz-Adelm's
conduct soon excited among the other English knights and nobles
who either accompanied him, or were previously settled, a very general
sense of dislike and indignation by his arbitrary usurpations, exac-
tions, and selfish grasping system of policy.

Of these De Courcy took the lead in discontent and in the energetic
vigour with which he expressed his feelings, and adopted a course of
free and independent conquest for himself. He appealed to his friends
and companions in arms against the policy of the governor, which,
both cowardly and tyrannical, deprived them of their rights and
bribed the natives into a cessation of hostility. He represented that,
by a grant from the king, he held a patent to possess whatever lands
he might conquer; and promised to share freely with those who
might prefer a gallant career of enterprise, to disgraceful inactivity.

Among the warriors of that iron age of chivalric habits and accom-
plishments, none stood higher than De Courcy in valour, nor could many
have been found to rival one who has left a name which stands alone
with that of his heroic contemporary the monarch of the lion heart,
among authentic characters rivalling the poetic exaggerations of ro-
mance. His strength, far beyond the ordinary measure of the strong-
est class of strong men, was accompanied by an iron constitution, and a
courage that held all odds of peril at scorn. With these, we can infer
that he had a buoyant and imaginative conception, which gave to
enterprise the form and attraction so congenial to romance. The
ardour of his manner, and the general admiration of his associates for

* Lodge, vi. 36.

220

THE INVADERS.

personal qualities so congenial to their time and habits, prevailed with
many, private friendship with others. A small force was thus
secured to follow his fortunes into Ulster, which had not yet been
attempted by his countrymen. Of these, the chief were his companion
and brother in arms Armoric, and Robert de la Poer, a young soldier
who had lately begun to attract notice as a brave knight, with twenty
other knights, and about five hundred men-at-arms.

The first enterprise was near Howth, where they met with a severe
check, but obtained the victory with some loss of lives. This fight is
chiefly remarkable from the circumstance that, De Courcy being sick,
Sir Armoric commanded, and was after the battle invested with the
lordship of Howth, which still remains with his descendants.

Sir John with his small force now continued his northward march.
It may be recognised as an incident illustrative of his character, that
he appropriated to himself a prophecy of Merlin, that the city of
Down was to be entered by a stranger mounted on a white horse,
with a shield charged with painted birds. According to this descrip-
tion he equipped himself, and so accoutred, proceeded to his destina-
tion. After four days' march he reached Down, where he was quite
unexpected. Nor were the inhabitants apprised of the approach of
these formidable strangers, until their rest was at an early hour
broken by the ringing of bugles, the clash of armour, and the
tramp of heavy cavalry in their street. Violent consternation was
followed by the confusion of precipitate flight. In this distress, Dun-
leve their chief, had recourse to Vivian, the legate, who in his progress
through the country was at this time in Down. Vivian was not slow
in remonstrance with De Courcy, to whom he strongly represented
the injustice of an assault on people who had already submitted to
Henry, and were ready to adhere to their pledges, and pay their
stipulated tribute. His remonstrances, backed by the most urgent
entreaties were vain. The stern baron listened with the courtesy of
his order and the deference of piety to the dignitary of the church,
and pursued a course which he made no effort to justify. He fortified
himself in the city of Downpatrick, and made all necessary prepara-
tions to secure his possession. The legate's pride and sense of right
were roused by the contempt, and the unwarrantable conduct of the
knight. Though his commission had been to persuade peaceful sub-
mission, he now changed his course, and warmly urged resistance to
unjust aggression. He advised Dunleve to have recourse to arms,
and exert himself to protect his people and redeem his territories from
a rapacious enemy. Dunleve followed his advice, and without delay
communicated with his allies. In eight days a formidable power was
collected. Roderic sent his provincial force, which, with the troops
of Down, amounted to ten thousand fighting men. These, with Dun-
leve at their head, marched to dispossess the invader. To resist these
De Courcy could muster at the utmost a force not quite amounting
to seven hundred men. To attempt the defence of the town with this
small force, when he was at the same time destitute of the necessary
provisions and muniments of a defensive war, would be imprudent:
to be shut up in walls, was still less congenial to his daring and impa-
tient valour. Feeling, or affecting to feel, a contempt for the perilous

DE COTJRCY.

221

odds he should have to encounter, he resolved to lead forth his little
host and stake his fate on a battle. Still recollecting the duty of a
skilful leader, he neglected no precaution to countervail the superi-
ority of the enemy by a judicious selection of position and a skilful
disposition of his men. He divided his whole force into three com-
panies. His cavalry amounted to one hundred and forty, behind each
of these he mounted an archer, and placed the company, thus rendered
doubly effective, as a left wing under the command of his friend Sir
Armoric. On the right, and protected by a bog, Sir Robert de la
Poer, commanded one company of foot. De Courcy at the head of
another occupied the centre. The English had thus the advantage
of a marsh on the right, while their left was strongly protected by a
thick hedge with a deep and broad fosse.

The attack was made with the fierce impetuosity of Irish valour.
Prince Dunleve led forward his horse against those of Sir Armoric,
thinking thus to cause a confused movement which might enable his
main force to act. The English cavalry were immoveable; and the
obstinacy of the attack had only the effect of increasing the slaughter
of their worse-armed and less expert assailants. The bowmen acted
their part so well, that few of those whom the English lance spared,
escaped their arrows. Many were pierced, more thrown by their
wounded horses. When the quivers were spent, the archers were
found no less effective with their swords. After a most gallant resist-
ance, the Irish retired with dreadful loss, and De Courcy with De Poer
immediately charged the main body of the enemy, which had now
come near his position. The fight now increased in fury. The Irish
uttering tremendous yells, fought with all the fierce abandonment of
desperation ; the strength and composure of the English were tried to
the uttermost; they trampled on heaps of the dying and the dead,
amidst a tumult which allowed no order to be heard; and the old
chronicler describes, with terrible fidelity, the mingled din of groans
and shouts — the air darkened with clouds of dust, with darts and stones,
and the splinters of broken staves — the sparkling dint of sword and axe,
which clanged like hammers on their steel armour. The slaughter was
great on both sides, and continued long. At length, that steadiness
which is the best result of discipline, prevailed. The Irish suddenly gave
ground ; and from the pass in which the fight had raged till now, retreated
confusedly and with fearfully diminished numbers into the plain. Sir Ar-
moric now saw that it was the moment for a charge from his cavalry.
After an instant's consultation with his standard-bearer, Jeffrey Montgo-
mery, he gave the word for an onward movement ; a moment brought his
company into collision with the Irish cavalry, which, under the com-
mand of the brave Connor M'Laughlin, had retired in tolerable order
during the late confusion of the battle. The shock was still fiercer than
the former. This brave company, aware of the discomfiture of the
main body, fought with desperation ; Sir Armoric was twice unhorsed,
surrounded and rescued during the short interval which elapsed while
De Courcy was bringing up his now disengaged company to aid him.
In this encounter it is related, that when Sir Armoric was down the
second time, and fighting on foot with his two-handed sword, many
'»f his troopers leaped to the ground, and snatching up the weapons of

222 THE INVADERS.

the dead which were thickly strewed under their feet, rushed on and
kept a ford in which they fought, and cleared it from horse and man till
De Courcy's hand was up. The approach of De Courcy now decided
this singularly fierce and obstinate, though unequal fight. The Irish,
without waiting for a new collision, turned and fled, leaving to the
conquerors a bloody field. Amongst the many fierce engagements
which we have had to notice, none was more calculated to display the
real character of the force on either side. On the part of the Irish,
there was no want of spirit or personal valour. Superior arms and,
still more, a steadier firmness and a more advanced knowledge of
tactics, decided the victory in favour of a force numerically not quite
the fourteenth of their antagonists.

De Courcy, by this seasonable success, was now left to secure his
ground and effect his plans for a time in security. He parcelled out
the lands among his followers, and built his forts on chosen situations,
and made all the essential arrangements for the complete establish-
nent of his conquest.

The following midsummer, the forces of Ulster were a second time
mustered to the amount of fifteen thousand men, and hostilities were
renewed with the same eventual success. A battle took place under
the walls of Downpatrick, in which De Courcy gained another vic-
tory against tremendous odds of number, but with the loss of many
men, among whom were some of his bravest leaders. Sir Armoric
was severely wounded, and lay for some time bleeding under a hedge,
where he endeavoured to support his fainting strength and subdue a
parching thirst by chewing honeysuckles, which flowered profusely
over his head ; at last he was carried away by four men, having left
much blood on the spot where he had lain. His life was little hoped
for some days. In the same fight his son, Sir Nicholas Saint Lawrence,
was also as severely wounded, so as to leave for a time little hope of
his recovery.

Notwithstanding these sanguinary failures, the spirit of Ulster was
not subdued. With their native supple shrewdness, the surrounding
chieftains changed their game from stern resistance to that wily and
subtle cordiality of profession, which even still seems to be one of the
native and intuitive resources of their enmity, when repressed by supe-
rior power. They thus gained no small influence over the natural
confidence of De Courcy's sanguine spirit. From him MacMahon
won the most entire confidence. By solemn protestations, he assured
him of the most faithful submission and service, and engaged him in
the pledge of gossipry, which was, among the Irish, understood to be
most binding. In consequence, De Courcy completely duped, entered
into a confidential intercourse with this bold but wily and unprinci-
pled chief;* and intrusted him with the command of two forts, with
the territory they commanded. The consequence was such as most
of our readers will anticipate. MacMahon waited his opportunity,
and levelled the forts to the ground, in a month after he had received
them in keeping. De Courcy soon discoveiing this proceeding, sent
to learn the cause of this breach of trust. The Irish chief replied
that " he had not engaged to hold the stones of him, but the lands ;
* Girald. Hanmer, fco.

DE COURCY.

223

and that it was contrary to his nature to dwell within cold stones,
while the woods were so nigh." De Courcy's resentment was inflamed
by a reply of which the purport was not equivocal. He instantly
called out his little force, and entering MacMahon's land, swept away
the cattle in vast droves before him. This movement was the preci-
pitate impulse of revenge, and cost him dearly.

The number of the cattle was so great, that it was necessary to
divide them into three droves, each of which was committed to a com-
pany. The force was thus most perilously divided, and each division
compelled to proceed in the utmost confusion and disarray ; a space of
three miles separated the van from the rear. To complete the dangers
of this ruinous and nearly fatal march, their way lay through the
narrow passes of a bog, and was every where intercepted by deep
mires, with thick copses on either side. In these the enemy, to the
number of eleven thousand, took up their ambush, in the certainty of
a full measure of vengeance on their invaders. They adopted their
precautions with the most fatal skill ; the position and circumstances
were precisely those adapted to their habits. They so divided their
force, that when they burst with sudden fury from their concealing
thickets, the three companies of the English were separated by two
considerable forces of their enemy. They were further embarrassed
by the cattle, which, taking fright, rushed impetuously through them,
trampling down and scattering their unformed ranks, so that all the
character of military organization was effaced, and they presented
themselves singly to the rushing onset of thousands. Such was the
fearful combination of disadvantages, from which it is hard to explain
how a man could have come out alive.

De Courcy and Sir Armoric rushed from the woods to endeavour
to ascertain the true position of affairs. They saw each other at the
distance of a quarter of a mile. Each of these brave warriors had
contrived to extricate some of his companions. They turned to ap-
proach each other. As they came on, De La Poer was seen at a
small distance from Sir Armoric ; he had also been endeavouring to
disengage himself from the press, but in the attempt was surrounded
by a crowd of the enemy, who were pulling him from his horse. Sir
Armoric (whose niece he had married a few days before) rushed to
his rescue ; the party who had seized him gave way ; but their shouts
brought from the bushes a considerable force, who now blocked up
the way between De Courcy and Sir Armoric. With desperate
slaughter, and with some loss, they cut a passage to each other, and
seeing that the ground was impassable for horses, they alighted and
endeavoured to extricate themselves on foot from the surrounding
bogs. Loaded with the weight of their massive accoutrements, it was
no easy task to make way through mosses and quagmires which might
well task the utmost activity of more lightly equipped pedestrians.
They were instantly pursued. De Courcy was quickly overtaken by
one Sawyard with a party. ^ He turned on them with his two handed
sword, and being bravely seconded by a few persons who were with
him, the Irish assailants were driven off, leaving a hundred and twenty
dead on the spot. Another chief came quickly on with several hun-
dred followers, and again compelled De Courcy to have recourse to

224 THE INVADERS.

his fatal weapon, of which one hundred and eighty victims attested
the prowess. Last of all, MacMahon came rushing breathless up ; a
stroke from a son of Sir Armoric intercepted his career, and laid him
on the ground. The nearly fainting English took advantage of the
pause of terror and surprise occasioned by the result of these slaugh-
tering stands : their foes fell back to a safe distance from where they
stood, "few and faint, but fearless still," having lost the fight, yet dearly
won the honour of that dreadful day. They were allowed to retreat ;
and as night fell, De Courcy led them to a secure fort of his own.
Here they were enabled to take rest and refreshment after their toil.
The enemy resolving to secure the advantage they had gained, encamped
at the distance of half a mile : thus menacing them with a distressing
siege, for which they were utterly unprovided.

As the darkness fell, the watch fires of the enemy shining in vast
numbers, starred the horizon for a wide extent with lights that lent
no cheerfulness to the aspect of reverse ; and the distant noises of tri-
umphant revellings, sounded like insult to the pride of the knights
who had but escaped from the carnage of that day. But at midnight,
Sir Armoric with characteristic vigilance and fertility of expedient,
after awaking from a short sleep, conceived a desire to steal forth and
look out upon the revellers of the hostile encampment. For this pur-
pose he cautiously awakened a few of the trustiest of his followers, and
soon, without interruption, came near enough to the enemy to perceive
that they were feasting or sleeping, and quite free from the fear of an
enemy. He returned speedily, and rousing De Courcy, proposed a
sally. He informed him that by the cabins of the enemy he could
judge them to amount to five thousand; but that it was quite evident,
that if they did not now make good their way through these, they
should have no future chance, as the numbers of the enemy were likely
to increase. These reasons were convincing; but the English were
seemingly in the lowest stage of weariness, and many of them disabled
from their wounds. It was nevertheless agreed on that they could not
expect so good a prospect of deliverance ; and when Sir Armoric had
done speaking, De Courcy's mind was resolved, and his plan formed
for the assault. He ordered two men to mount his horse and Sir
Armoric's, and taking all the other horses that remained between
them, to drive them furiously across the encampment, while himself
with his knights and men-at-arms, following close in the rear, might
serve them with a still more effective retaliation of the stratagem of
the morning. Every thing turned out according to these directions,
the horses galloped fiercely among the drinkers and the sleepers, who
scarcely suspected the nature of the disturbance when sword and spear
were dealing rapid and irresistible destruction on every side. Five
thousand were slain, and only about two hundred collected their facul-
ties time enough to escape. Of the English, but two were missing.
De Courcy was by this fortunate stroke, enabled to supply the wants
of his men. He was also, for some time at least, secure from further
molestation, and sent to Dublin and elsewhere among his friends for
reinforcements and other supplies.

We shall not here pause in our narrative, to detail two other fights
which occurred in the same period of our hero's life. An extract from

DE COURCY.

225

Hanmer's Chronicle, may tell the most personally interesting incidents
of a fierce and sanguinary fight, in which De Courcy was himself in
the most imminent hazard which we meet, in the strange romance of
his adventurous course. The peculiarity of the battle, which took
place near Lurgan, was this : that upwards of six thousand Irish wer«
staid in their flight by an arm of the sea, " a mile from the Lurgan,
on the south side of Dundalk," where there was no advantage of
ground, and, of course, far less than the usual advantages from
superior discipline. As the sense of a desperate necessity makes the
coward daring, so it imparts steady and stern composure to the truly
brave : in this position of the utmost extremity, says our authority,
" there was nothing but dead blows ; the foot of the English drew
back, Sir John Courcy, their leader, was left in the midst of his
enemies, with a two-handed sword, washing and lashing on both sides
like a lion among sheep. Nicholas [St Lawrence] posted to his father
Armoric, who was in chase of the scattered horsemen of the Irish, and
cried, ' Alas ! my father, mine uncle Sir John is left alone in the midst
of his enemies, and the foot have forsaken him.' With that Sir Ar-
moric lighted, killed his horse, and said, ' Here my son, take charge of
these horsemen, and I will lead on the foot-company to the rescue of
my brother Courcy ; come on fellow-soldiers,' saith he, ' let us live or
die together.' He gave the onset on the foot of the Irish, rescued Sir
John Courcy, that was sore wounded, and with cruel fight in manner
out of breath ; at sight of him the soldiers take heart, and drive the
Irish to retreat."

The result of this action was rather in favour of the Irish; and it
was followed shortly after by another, of which we can find no satis-
factory description, but that it is represented by the Irish annalists as
unfavourable to De Courcy. Yet there was, we learn with certainty, no
interruption to his arms sufficiently decided to arrest the progress of
his conquest of Ulster, where he maintained his settlements against all
efforts to disturb them.

After some time, an intermission of these hostilities allowing his
absence, De Courcy thought it high time to visit England, and en-
deavour to secure his interest with the king. Henry, pleased with the
progress of his baron's arms, created him lord of Connaught and earl
of Ulster. On his return he had to fight a severe battle at the bridge
of Ivora, the result of which was such as to secure a continued inter-
val of quiet, which he employed in strengthening his government,
securing his possessions, and making many useful arrangements for
the civilization of the natives. He erected many castles, built bridges,
made highways, and repaired churches; and governed the province
peacefully to the satisfaction of its inhabitants, until the days of king
John's visit to Ireland.

In 1 1 86, as has been already related in a former notice, the king re-
called prince John from the first brief exposure of that combination of
folly and imbecility, which afterwards disgraced his reign. Eight
months of disorder were, so far as the time admitted, repaired by the
selection of a wiser head and a stronger hand. The brave and wise
De Lacy had fallen the victim of an ignoble, but it is believed, insane
murderer ; but king Henry, seeing the approach of new dangers and

P Ir.

226 THE INVADERS.

resistances from a people thus irritated by acts of oppression, and
strengthened by the absence of all caution, thought the adventurous
valour and rough strong-headed sagacity of De Courcy the best re-
source in the urgent position of his Irish conquest.

De Courcy's first step was a stern exaction of prudent vengeance
for the murder of his predecessor. He proceeded with energy and
prompt vigour to the business of repelling the encroachments and re-
pressing the hostilities which had, during the previous year, again
begun to spring up on every side, to an extent, and with a violence,
which had begun to shake the foundations of English power. For-
tunately, for his purpose, incidental circumstances, at this time, had
begun to involve the most powerful of the native princes in mutual
strife, or in domestic dissensions. The aged Roderic was driven by
his ungrateful children from his throne. The chiefs of the Maclaugh-
lin race were destroying each other in petty warfare, and the practice
of seeking aid against each other from the English settlers, gave
added temptation, and more decisive issue to their animosities.

To rest satisfied with merely defensive operations, formed no part
of the temper of De Courcy. The state of Connaught was not unpro-
mising, but it was enough to attract the heart of knightly enterprise,
that it was the most warlike province of Ireland, and had yet alone
continued inviolate by the hand of conquest. He collected a small,
but as he judged, sufficient force, and marched " with more valour than
circumspection, into a country where he expected a complete conquest
without resistance." He soon learned his mistake, though not in
time altogether to prevent its consequences. He received certain in-
formation that Connor Moienmoy, the reigning son of Roderic, was
leagued against him with O'Brien, the Munster chief, that their force
was overwhelming, and much improved in arms and discipline. Under
such circumstances, his further progress, without more suitable pre-
paration, was not to be contemplated, even by the rashness of knight-
errantry. De Courcy resolved to measure back his steps. He had
not proceeded far on his retreat, when he was met by the alarming
intelligence, that another large army had taken up a difficult and un-
assailable position on his way; there remained no choice, and he re-
tted to the army he had recently left. Here he found the confederate
force of Connaught and Thomond drawn up to the best advantage,
in order of battle. Little hope seemed left, but much time for doubt
was not permitted ere he was attacked. Charge succeeded charge,
from an enemy confident in numbers — brave to desperation — improved
in discipline, and encouraged by the weak appearance of the invaders'
force. Their charges were calmly met, and after each they recoiled
with diminished ranks; but De Courcy's little force was also begin-
ning to be thinned, and, under the oppression of numbers, fatigue it-
self might turn the odds. It was necessary to cut their way through
the armed mob. This they at last effected with vast and bloody effort,
in which some of De Courcy's bravest knights were slaughtered.

By this event, the Connaught men had the glory of compelling the
retreat of their invader, and preserving inviolate the honour of that
unconquered province. Repelled from this design, De Courcy made
amends by a combination of firmness and vigilance, which, with the

DE COURCY.

227

assistance of the popularity acquired by his knightly fame and open
generous temper, awed some and conciliated others, and still maintained
with universal honour the authority of his Master,through the country.

Affairs were in this position when the brave and sagacious king
Henry, worn by successive shocks of anger, vexation, and wounded
feeling from the conduct of his unnatural children, breathed his last
in the town of Chinon, in France. On the succession of Richard, the
feeble and impolitic John, who thenceforward began to exercise a
more absolute interference in Irish affairs, was won by the insinua-
tions of the younger De Lacy to supersede De Courcy, and appoint
himself to the government of Ireland. De Courcy did not fail to ex-
press his indignation at the insult, and thus laid the foundation of an
enmity, which was soon to lead to a fatal reverse in his prosperous
fortunes. He now resolved to attend to his own interests alone, and
retired to the cultivation of his territory, in his province of Ulster.
Here, soon perceiving the urgent necessity of strengthening himself
against the fast rising power of fresh confederacies, he sent to call for
the assistance of his dear friend Armoric St Lawrence. St Lawrence
obeyed the call, but in marching through the province of Cathal
O'Conor, met with a fatal disaster, which we have already noticed in
the memoir of Cathal.

For some time De Courcy went on strengthening himself in Ulster,
and although he met with occasional checks from time to time, still,
by the most indefatigable watchfulness and valour, he not only main-
tained the ascendancy of his arms, but was even enabled to avail him-
self of the weakness of John's government. He assumed an independent
position, not only denying the authority of the king, but impeaching
his character, and questioning his title to the crown. In this course
of conduct he was for some time joined by his rival, young De Lacy.
But the perpetually shifting aspect of the political prospect in Ireland,
appeared at length to assume a turn favourable to the power of John.
The Irish barons, were mutually contentious, and, like the native chiefs,
involved in perpetual strife with each other. De Lacy grew jealous
of the growing power of De Courcy, whose superiority he could not
help resenting. He reconciled himself by flattery and submission to
the king, and exposed the danger of allowing a revolted subject to go
on gathering power, and affecting the state of independent royalty. He
was thus enabled to awaken a keener and more vindictive spirit in the
breast of this base tyrant. The murder of the hapless prince Arthur,
which had excited a universal sensation of abhorrence, drew from the
generous and romantic ardour of the rough but high-spirited warrior,
the most violent expressions of indignation and disgust. 1 hese were,
by his rival, conveyed to the royal ear. John was enraged, and im-
mediately summoned De Courcy to do homage for his possessions.
De Courcy refused with scorn, to submit to the mandate of one whose
authority he denied. A commission to seize his person was intrusted
to De Lacy and his brother Walter, who, well pleased with the com-
mission, which thus gave a specious appearance of right to their ven-
geance, proceeded alertly to their office.

De Lacy led his troops into Ulster, and coming to an engagement
with De Courcy, was obliged to retreat with loss. But he, soon becom-

228 THE INVADERS.

ing conscious of the impossibility of resisting the power of the English
troops, which he knew must gradually collect into a force beyond the
utmost of his means, resolved to temporize with his enemies. But
private resentment was underhand at work ; and his overtures were
met with stern and unconciliating demands of submission. In this
strait, he offered to justify himself by combat with De Lacy, who re-
fused on the plea of his own high office, and De Courcy's being a sub-
ject, and a proclaimed traitor. He likewise also offered a large reward
for the seizure of De Courcy, " alive or dead." But De Courcy stood so
effectually on his guard, that there seemed to be little likelihood of
success on the part of his enemy. At length De Lacy contrived a com-
munication with some servants of De Courcy, who declared their fear
of seizing the person of a hero, for whose strength, they affirmed, no
match could be found ; but they represented that he might be surpris-
ed on a particular occasion, which they thus described: — " On good
Friday, yearly, he wears no arms ; but passes the whole day in the
churchyard of Down, wandering alone, and absorbed in devotional
meditation." The hint was not thrown away on careless ears. Good
Friday was at hand, and when it came, a spy, sent for the purpose,
ascertained that the earl was in the place described, unarmed, alone,
and by his absent eye and unsettled gait, little contemplating the medi-
tated snare. A troop of horse rushed round the scene of sacred retire-
ment, and the dismounted troopers crowded in upon the astonished
knight; two of his nephews had been led by the tumult to the spot,
and now rushed forward with heroic self-devotion to the rescue of their
valiant uncle ', De Courcy was not wanting to himself in the emergency.
Seizing on a wooden cross which presented itself to his grasp, he laid
about him with vigour and effect. Thirteen of his assailants fell be-
neath an arm, not often equalled in power : but his brave nephews lay
dead beside him, and, wearied with his efforts, the valiant John de
Courcy was at last overpowered, and led away bound and captive, into
the hands of his bitter enemies.*

He was cast into the Tower, where he remained, until an incident
occurred, the facts of which being misrepresented by contemporary
report, have also led historians to commit the common oversight of
denying the whole. The facts, as they are most simply related, are not,
it is true, easily reconciled with other more authentic facts and dates.
Yet we see no reason, therefore, to affirm that the account is wholly
gratuitous. The most unembarrassed statement we can collect, is as
follows : —

In the year 1203, there was an active and successful effort made by
the French king to strip John of his Norman dominions. The con-
test was marked by imbecility and slackness on the part of John, which
provoked first the earnest remonstrances and then the indignant deser-
tion on the part of his barons. Still his Norman subjects, and still
more the English, showed all willingness to second any vigorous effort
of the king to reinstate himself in his rights. The king used this dis-
position to obtain money, which he lavished in extravagance : content -

* Lodge throws a doubt on this romantic story on the authority of a record in
the Tower, from which it appears that De Courcy surrendered himself. See Lodge,
vi. 143, for the whole of this document.

DE COURCY. 229

ing himself with threats and remonstrances against Philip, who held
him in just contempt, and being exalted by success, increased in his
pretensions. The Normans were under a pledge to acknowledge his
sovereignty, if not relieved within a year, not yet expired; to divert
resistance, and perhaps at worst, to make room for compromise he
claimed the princess Eleanor, sister to the late Duke of Brittany,' for
Ins second son, with all the English dominion in France for her dower.
The demand was absurd, and created remonstrance and complaint:
the negotiation, which had till then been carried on, was abruptly
broken off, and John's ambassadors returned into England. Shortly
after their departure, and early in the following year, the king of
France sent a knight into England to proclaim the justice of his cause,
and in accordance with the notions and common usage of the age, to
maintain the affirmation with his lance. The knight came and pro-
claimed a challenge against all who should impeach the actions or the
pretensions of his master. It is probable that this knight did not ex-
pect his challenge to be taken up; at all events it was a matter of no
political importance. But the English court justly felt that the vaunt
should not be suffered to pass unanswered, and took it up as a question
of sport in which the national pride was in some degree concerned, rather
than as a serious matter. The court of John was, however, as likely
to be anxious about a trifle, as if Normandy were the stake, and the
king was earnest in the quest of a champion. The chivalry of England,
ever the first in honourable enterprise, had champions enough, had the
cause, the occasion, and the ruler, sufficient respectability to excite their
sympathy. They were not asked; the fame of De Courcy was known;
he was in the king's power, and there was little doubt as to the effect
of the inducements, of freedom and restoration, when held out as the
result of his becoming the champion of the royal cause. De Courcy
had been some months in the Tower, when these circumstances occur-
red. He was sent for, and when he entered the presence, all were
strongly impressed by the iron firmness of his gigantic port, and the
undaunted freedom of his gait and countenance. " Wilt thou fight in
my cause ?" asked king John. " Not in thine," replied the Earl, « but
in the kingdom's right, I will fight to the last drop of my blood." The
king was too eager for the fight, to quarrel with the distinction, and
De Courcy's imprisonment was relaxed in rigour; his diet improved;
and his arms sent for to Ireland. But the circumstances becoming the
talk of the day, the prodigious feats of De Courcy were everywhere
narrated, with all the usual exaggeration. The French champion
became from day to day more damped by these communications, until
defeat appeared certain. At last, unable to contend with the appre-
hension of shame in the presence of the English court, and those of his
countrymen who were sure to attend, the - champion slunk away and
concealed his disgrace in Spain. It was on this occasion that the
privilege was granted to De Gourcy, which yet remains as a standing
testimony in his family. To the profuse proffers of king John's grati-
tude or favour, he replied by expressing his desire, that he and hi»
posterity should retain the privilege to stand covered on their first in-
troduction to the royal presence. This incident, the tradition of the day,
has been so ornamented with the trappings of romance, and this with so

230 THE INVADERS.

little regard to possibility, that it cannot now be received by the
historian with any trust. Yet tradition has also its laws, and the wild-
est improbability may, when reduced by their critical test, be found
so far in harmony with the time, person, and general character of
events, that it may safely be affirmed to contain a large residue of
real fundamental truth. Admiration always exaggerates and builds
tall and goodly fabrics on disproportionate grounds. Yet even in these,
if they are invented near the life of the actor, even the very exagger-
ation is mostly true to life and character. Every one is aware of
many instances of the construction of this class of fictions. The main
incidents are mostly disjoined from more vulgar circumstances which
are omitted, altered, and replaced by other seemingly unimportant
circumstances, which are simply used, because the story can no more
be told without them, than a picture be painted on the empty air.
That which is adapted to raise wonder, is soon exaggerated to in-
crease a sensation which the teller has himself ceased to feel. Again,
the sayings and acts which are scattered along the memory of a life,
will be seized on and made tributary to some special story. The viola-
tion of historical probability is long allowed to pass, because few
hearers are precise enough to notice it; for it seems a general rule of
the story -loving community, that no part of a story needs be true but
the peculiar incident for which the tale is told. We begin to fear the
charge of refining, and therefore we will pass to the subsequent facts
of the tale.

Our authority goes on to state, that sometime after De Courcy
being in France, serving in the English army, king Philip expressed
to king John a curiosity to witness some proof of the strength of
which he had heard so much; on which De Courcy was brought
forward to satisfy this desire. A helmet was placed on a stake, and
De Courcy stepping up to it, with a stroke of his ponderous two-
handed sword, cleft the helmet and fixed the sword so deeply in the
stake, that no one but himself could draw it out. Sir Walter Scott
describes the feat, which he gives to Richard in "the Crusaders."
Nor is it so marvellous, as on this ground to call for doubt. That
the particular scene described ever occurred is, for other reasons, very
unlikely. But the feat was one of the reputed trials of strength at a
time when the fullest development of strength was the business of
life. The whole tale, taking it even with some minor embellishments
which we here omit, has this value, that it is founded probably on the
real facts of De Courcy's life, and certainly on the impression of his
character, which probably remained distinct enough until it became
embodied in many a tale and written memorial not now to be had.
That De Courcy was cast into the Tower, is not a fact confirmed by
authentic history, and the meeting of the kings is still less likely. These
are not, however, essentials to the characteristic incidents of the narra-
tion. The question about Normandy was not settled in the beginning
of 1204, when De Courcy must have been in England, and this is the
time assigned for the challenge. Again, king John two years after
led a force into France, when he recovered parts of Poictou, and con-
cluded a truce for two years with Philip. If these coincidences
and the true spirit of the period be allowed for, the romance

SIR ARMORIC DE ST. LAWRENCE.

231

dwindles into an ordinary occurrence in which, however historical
scepticism may ask for proof, there is assuredly nothing improbable.

The remainder of De Courcy's history is buried in much obscurity.
He began to settle into the quiet of ease and the torpor of age. It
required the prominent importance of a warrior or a statesman's
actions, to fix a lasting stamp on the traditionary records of the time.
He is supposed to have died in France, about 1210.

His Earldom of Ulster was retained by De Lacy; but Henry III.
granted the barony of Kinsale to his successor (son or nephew), some
years after. This title has descended in the posterity of the noble
warrior, for GOO years.

SIR ARMORIC DE ST. LAWRENCE.

DIED A. D. 1189.

IT is one of the conditions of a period — of which the record that re-
mains, approaches nearer to the character of tradition than regular
history — that its persons are rather to be seen through the medium of
the events in which they were the actors, than in the light of distinctly
personal memorials. When in our transition down the current of time
we come to the worthies of our own period — we must ever find the
deepest interest in that portion of our inquiry, which brings our
curiosity nearest to the person — and makes us best acquainted with
the moral and intellectual constitution, the feelings and the motives
of the object of our admiration or contempt. The earliest indications
of the philosopher, the poet, the orator, or the statesman — the Boyle,
the Goldsmith, or the Burke — are not too simple for the rational
curiosity which would trace the growth and formation of that which is
noble and excellent in the history of consummate minds. Nor will
the personal fondness with which enthusiasm, is so apt to dwell on the
simplest record of that which it admires or venerates, be easily con-
tented with the utmost effort the biographer can make to infuse into
his persons that characteristic reality, which like faithful portraiture
ever depends on the nice preservation of minute and nearly evanes-
cent lineaments.

It is with a painful consciousness of the unsatisfactory nature of our
materials, to satisfy this condition of successful biography, that we have
laboured through the heroes of this eventful period. Of these some, it
is true, are to be regarded but as links of history, only important for the
facts that carry on the tale ; and of these the biographies are to be
read, simply as the narrative of the public movements in which their
fortunes or their vices and follies render them the prominent agents.
Thus, while we are compelled to expend pages on the base Dermod, a
scanty page will deliver all that we are enabled to add, to the facts
already mentioned in the last memoir, of Sir Armoric de Valence.
United inseparably with his valiant brother in arms, so that to relate
the achievements of either, was necessarily to give the history of both ;
•we have, in our memoir of De Courcy, been compelled nearly to ex-
haust the scanty materials for the biography of the noblest and most

232 THE INVADERS.

chivalric hero of a romantic age. The original name of Sir Armoric's
family is said to have been Tristram : the subsequently assumed name
of St Lawrence is not very clearly accounted for. A member of the
family which he established in Ireland, is said to have gained a battle
near Clontarf on St Lawrence's day; and from that event to have
taken the saint's name, in consequence of a vow made before the battle.
The sword of this warrior yet hangs in the hall at Howth. We have
already mentioned the first battle gained by Sir Armoric on his land-
ing near Howth, and the consequent grant of the lordship of that dis-
trict, still in the possession of his descendants who bear the title of
earl and baron of Howth. His subsequent career, as the companion
of De Courcy, we cannot here repeat without needless repetition.
Through the whole of these years of imminent peril, and fierce exer-
tion, and formidable escape, he was as a guardian and guiding spirit to
the more fierce and headlong impetuosity of his redoubted brother-in-
law. In the moment of dangerous extremity, his faithful rescue ; in
perplexity, his wise counsellor — as remarkable for the caution of a
leader, as for the heroic fearlessness of a knight: in those awful
moments of defeat when all but life and honour seemed lost, the ever
wakeful and sagacious discoverer of the redeeming opportunity, or the
daring last resource, which turned the fortune of the field. Enthusi-
astic like his heroic brother in arms, but without his impetuosity; as
daring, without his grasping ambition ; as scornful of baseness, with-
out his harsh and stern rudeness : Sir Armoric's whole course, shining
even through the blurred line of the meagre annalists, conveys a
resistless impression of high knightly valour and faith, calm, resolute,
and devoted. He showed, in his last heroic field, one of the most
noble on record; the same calm intrepidity in resigning his life to a
high yet punctilious sense of honour, that brave men have been often
praised for exhibiting in self-defence.

In the reign of Richard, while De Courcy was superseded by his
rival De Lacy, and anxious to strengthen himself in Ulster against the
rising storm which in its progress so fatally overwhelmed his fortunes,
he sent a messenger to Sir Armoric who was engaged in some slight
enterprise in the west. Sir Armoric returned on his way, to come to
the assistance of the earl, with a small force of thirty knights and
two hundred foot. The report of his march came to Cathal O' Conor,
who instantly resolved to intercept him, and collected for this purpose
a force which left no odds to fortune. He laid his measures skilfully ;
and this, it will be remembered, was the science of the Irish warfare.
He took up a concealed position, and by the most cautious dispositions
for the purpose, prevented all intelligence of his intent or movements
from reaching Sir Armoric. He came on unsuspecting danger and
having no intimation of any hostile design ; his scouts went out and
brought no intelligence, and all seemed repose along the march, until
he came to a pass called the " Devil's mouth." Here it was at once
discovered, that a vast force lay in ambush to intercept his way. That
there was no alternative left but a soldier's death for the two hundred
foot soldiers which composed his army, was instantly comprehended
by all present : for these, flight was impossible and resistance hopeless.
The force of O'Conor was at least a hundred to one. The fatal ia-

GIRALDUS CAMBRENSIS.

233

ference seemed to have different effects on the little force of Sir
Armoric: the foot, with stern and calm desperation, prepared for their
last earthly expectation of vengeance ; the thirty knights, seeing that
there was no hope in valour, expressed their natural desire to retreat.
Their hesitation was observed by the devoted company of foot, who
looked on their more fortunate companions with wistful sadness. Their
captain, a brother of Sir Armoric's, came up to him, and in pathetic
terms remonstrated against the intended movement of his cavalry to
desert their comrades in this trying hour.

Sir Armoric's high spirit was but too easily moved to follow even
the shadows of honour and fidelity ; and he resolved at once to share in
the dark fate of his unfortunate soldiers. He instantly proposed the
resolution to his thirty knights, who yielded to the energy of their
leader's resolution and consented to follow his example. Sir Armoric
now alighted from his horse, and kneeling down, kissed the cross upon
his sword; the next moment he turned to his horse, and exclaiming
" Thou shalt not serve my enemies," he ran it through with his sword :
all followed the example of this decisive act, which placed them at
once in the same circumstances with their fellow soldiers. Sir
Armoric, lastly, sent two youths of his company to the top of a neigh-
bouring hill, enjoining them to witness and carry a faithful account of
the event to De Courcy.

The knights now took their places among the foot, and the devoted
band advanced upon the Irish host. The Irish were astonished.
Altogether ignorant of the more refined barbarism of chivalric points
of honour, they knew not how to understand the spectacle of devoted
bravery which passed before them., but imagined that the English
came on in the confidence of a seasonable reinforcement. Under this
impression they hesitated, until the scouts they sent out returned with
assurance that the whole enemy they had to encounter consisted of
the little band of foot who were in their toils. They now gave the
onset: the English were soon enclosed in their overwhelming ranks.
With their gallant leader, they were slain to a man; but not without
giving a lesson of fear to the enemy, which was not soon forgotten.
Cathal O' Conor, some time after, described the struggle to Hugh
De Lacy. He did not believe that any thing to equal it " was ever
seen before:" the English, he said, turned back to back and made
prodigious slaughter, till by degrees, and at great sacrifice of life,
every man fell. They slew a thousand of his men, which amounted
nearly to five for each who fell in that bloody fight. Such was the
death of Sir Armoric Tristram de St. Lawrence, ancestor of the earl of
Howth.

GIRALDUS CAMBRENSIS.

BORN A. D. 1146.— DIED A. D. 1220.

AMONG the authorities for the history of the earlier part of this
period, none can be named of the same pretension to fulness and
minuteness as Giraldus Cambrensis. And as he had probably access

234 THE INVADERS.

to a large class of ancient documents, not now in existence, he is per-
haps among the best sources of information on the earlier periods.
He may, except where the church or the conquest is concerned, be
relied upon as a safe authority for the transactions of his own time, and
that immediately preceding. His errors and prejudices — his ignorance
of the Irish language, and the credulity with which he received, and
transmitted in his writings, all sorts of improbabilities — have drawn
upon him much unmeasured severity; and we must admit that on these
grounds, the deductions to be made are large enough. But as much
or more is on some similar ground to be' deduced from all history, the
real authority of which is after all to be elaborately extracted by
comparison, and the aid of a comprehensive theory of mankind, and the
laws of -social transition. Before Cambrensis, it cannot indeed in
the full sense of the term be said that there were any Irish historians ;
the annalists, valuable as they unquestionably are, do not merit the
name ; it is indeed in a great measure from the fact, that they are but
compilers — chroniclers of isolated facts — that their value is derived.
Were it not that they copied such ancient dates and records as they
found with conscientious accuracy, their ignorant prejudices and
superstitious traditions must have rendered questionable every line
they wrote: this is apparent from the few well-known remains of the
literature of the middle ages. If however these are rendered trustwor-
thy by the barrenness of their statements, and by the fact that they are
simplythe deliverers of an unbroken series of traditions; the Anglo-Irish
historians who follow, have the advantage of standing within the day-
light of historical comparison; and of being easily tested by the con-
sent of modern tradition, and by the evidence of existing things.

Giraldus was descended from a noble Norman family, but his mother
was a Welsh woman; his native place was Pembrokeshire, where he was
born in 1146, at the castle of Manorbur. He was from his childhood
destined for the ecclesiastical profession, for which he exhibited early
dispositions. He soon mastered the learning of the age, and while yet
very young was introduced to his intended profession, in which his
learning, zeal, and practical ability, afforded the fairest expectations of
advancement. An ambitious and ardent spirit was not wanting to
prompt the active exertion of these capabilities, and Giraldus was soon
employed to influence his Welsh countrymen to submit to the payment
of their ecclesiastical dues to the archbishop of Canterbury, for whom he
acted as legate in Wales: in this capacity he suspended the archdeacon
of St David's, who refused to part with his mistress, and was himself
appointed archdeacon in his room. In this situation the most remarkable
incident is his dispute with the bishop of St Asaph, which is worthy
of notice for the very strange and peculiar display it offers of the spirit
of the age. This contest related to the dedication of a church, which
was situated on the borders of the dioceses of the two belligerent,
ecclesiastics. The bishop with the experience of his maturer age,
had planned to anticipate the movements of his youthful antagonist, and
dedicate the church before he should become aware of the design.
But he had not justly allowed for the vigilance and superior prompti-
tude of Giraldus, who was not to be thus caught sleeping. Giraldus
having received some intimation of the bishop's intent, prepared with

GIKALDUS CAMBRENSIS. 235

discreet celerity to prevent him : sending for an aid of armed men to
his friends, Clyd and Cadwallon, chiefs of the country, to whom
he represented the important necessity of -vindicating the rights
of the dioce§» of St David's, and having been joined by their con-
tingents of horse and foot, he hastened forward with his little army
to the scene of action. On the next morning after his departure he
arrived early at the scene of meditated conflict, and after some delay,
entering the church which was to be dedicated, proceeded to the
usual solemnities, and having ordered the bells to be rung in token of
possession, he began mass. In the mean time, the bishop, with his host,
drew nigh, and his messengers arrived to bespeak the due preparations.
On this Giraldus, who had finished his mass, sent a deputation of the
clergy of St David's to welcome the bishop if he was coming as a
neighbour to witness the ceremony, if otherwise to prohibit his further
approach. The bishop replied, " that he came in his professional capa-
city as a priest to perform his duty in the dedication of the church."
With this the bishop came on, and was met by the archdeacon at the
head of his party as he approached the entrance of the disputed church.
Here these two antagonists, more resolute than wise, stood for a while
like thunder clouds over the Adriatic, confronting each other with the
fume and menace of controversy, the common presage of those more
terrific, but not less futile bolts by which that ignorant age was held
in awe. Neither party had the good fortune to shake the purpose of
the other by argument, and they had proceeded no further after a con-
siderable length of alternate contradiction and objurgation, than the
several assertion of a right to the church of Keli ; when the bishop,
again thinking to play the old soldier, slipped from his horse and pro-
ceeded quietly to take possession. Giraldus was nothing dismayed —
at the head of the clergy of St David's, who came forward in good
order, in their sacerdotal attire, with tapers burning, and crucifixes
uplifted, he met his episcopal antagonist in the porch. The thunder
of the church now burst forth, long and loud in all its terror, and
the echoes of conflicting anathemas rung from the unblessed walls.
Giraldus, promptly taking advantage of this position, secured the effi-
cacy of his spiritual artillery by ringing the bells three times. The
expedient was decisive, struck with dismay at this irresistible confirma-
tion of his adversary's curse, the bishop mounted, and with his party
fled discomfited from the field. What appears strangest still, the vic-
tory of Giraldus was crowned with universal gratulation, and even the
bishop of St Asaph, not altogether annihilated by the mauling he had
received, recovered breath to express his applause at the skill and
vigour of his adversary. This reminds us of a surgeon, who having
broken his leg, had the professional enthusiasm to congratulate himself
on the happy incident by which he was led to witness the consummate
expertness of Sir Philip Crampton in cutting it off.

Giraldus, at this period of his life, maintained the same prompt and
assiduous character manifested in this ready-witted exploit; and by
his alacrity in performing the duties, or braving the hardships of his
pastoral charge, merited and obtained the general approbation of the
people and clergy : so that on the death of the aged bishop of St
David's, he was warmly recommended to the king as the most fit and

236

THE INVADERS.

acceptable successor. But the learning and daring vigilance of Giral-
dus were by no means recommendations to a monarch who had already
had in another eminent ecclesiastic an unfortunate experience of such
qualifications. Henry also was made aware of Giraldus's family im-
portance which gave him added influence in Pembrokeshire ; and with
these prepossessions turned a deaf ear to the application. He had
nevertheless the sagacity to discern that the qualifications which he
thus excluded from the hostile ranks of the Roman church might be
usefully enlisted in his own ; and Giraldus was retained in his esta-
blishment as tutor to prince John.

It was in this latter capacity that he visited Ireland, in 1185.
Henry having resolved to appoint his son John to the government
of Ireland, sent over Giraldus with an expedition, commanded by
Richard de Cogan, that he might form a judgment, and report on the
state of affairs in that country. He came in the train of his brother,
Philip de Barri ; and was associated in his commission with the arch-
bishop of Dublin, an Englishman, who resided in England, but who was
on this occasion sent over to his Irish diocese. In common with his asso-
ciate, Giraldus came over strongly prejudiced against Ireland and the
Irish church — then in many important respects superior to the Eng-
lish. They made it their main concern, nevertheless, to inquire into
all the particulars of its discipline and doctrine, and were soon scandal-
ized by the discovery of numerous proofs of an independent spirit
among the body of the Irish clergy and laity, while the more power-
ful and intelligent of the bishops were anxious asserters of the autho-
rity of the Roman see. These demerits roused the professional spirit
of Giraldus; he saw every thing in consequence through a dense mist
of prejudice, and gave frequent offence to the Irish bishops by his in-
vidious and acrimonious observations. In the warmth of their simple
zeal, the Irish informed the sarcastic scholar of the high claims ol
their church to veneration ; they referred to its antiquity, and enumer-
ated its saints. The taunting archdeacon replied, " You have your
saints — but where are your martyrs? I cannot find one Irish martyr
in your calendar." " Alas ! it must be acknowledged," was the answer
of the bishop of Cashel, " that as yet our people have not learned such
enormous guilt as to murder God's servants; but now that English-
men have settled in our island, and that Henry is our sovereign, we
may soon expect enough of martyrs to take away this reproach from
our church."* On another occasion, the abbot of Baltinglass preached a
sermon in Dublin at one of the cathedrals, on the subject of clerical
continence. Giraldus was present on the occasion, no tolerant list-
ener to the Irish orator ; but when from dwelling strongly on the obliga-
tions of this virtue, the abbot proceeded to an implied comparison
between the English and Irish churches, and dwelt on the high and
exemplary purity of his brethren before their morals had sustained con-
tamination from the flagitious impurities of the English ecclesiastics
who had recently been sent amongst them, the spleen of Giraldus could
no longer be contained, but starting from his chair, he poured forth a
fierce and recriminatory answer. He had the candour to admit the

* Leland.

GIRALDUS CAMBRENSIS. 237

virtue claimed for the Irish church, and the admission was perhaps
made with a scorn which depreciated the praise of a virtue then not
held in high request ; while he overwhelmed his adversary with charges
of drunkenness, treachery, dissimulation, falsehood and harbarism,
against the ecclesiastics of the Irish church. The bishoprics of
Leighlin and Ferns were offered to Giraldus by prince John, during
this residence, but he was probably not very ambitious to settle in a
country so disturbed as Ireland, and of which the manners and litera-
ture were so little congenial to the tastes of a man of letters : he was
also bent on literary projects, and then engaged in assiduous prepara-
tion for his work on Irish topography, of which he at this time col-
lected the ample materials, and finished the work on his return to
Wales.*

In 1 198, the bishop of St David's dying, Giraldus was nominated by
the chapter, but rejected at Rome, where there arose a violent con-
tention on the subject — which was however decided in favour of the
other candidate, the prior of Llanthony abbey. The see of St David's
was the favourite object of Giraldus' life — it was endeared to him by
all those early and native associations, which have a first place among
the best affections of the heart, and most of all with those whose habits
imply the cultivation of the moral feelings. For this he had refused all
other honours — Leighlin and Ferns, Bangor and Llandaff. The
chapter of St David's zealously seconded this desire — and he was on
three several occasions elected. But neither the king who looked for
more subservient qualifications, nor the pope, whose views were incon-
sistent with the merit pleaded before him by Giraldus " presentarunt
vobis allic libras, sed nos libras," a jest, the simplicity of which may
•at least have contended with its wit for the smiles of the conclave or
the papal cabinet.f

Giraldus died in his native province, in his 74th year, and was buried
in the cathedral of St. David's. He is justly described by his biogra-
pher, as one of the brightest luminaries that adorned the annals of the
twelfth century.J The works of Giraldus were numerous. Ware men-,
tions a long list. Those which concern us chiefly are the works on the
topography, and on the conquest of Ireland: which last has been the
main authority for all English historians who have ever since written
on the period included in his work. This concludes, however, with
the first expedition of prince John. The statements of Giraldus are
severely assailed by Lynch, the well-known antiquarian, who lived in
the reigns of Charles 1. and Charles II.

Having now discussed the principal incidents in the lives of the men
who took a leading part in the invasion and in the conflicts and policy
that followed, whose descendants, moreover, have remained in, and still
form a portion of, the population of the island, we proceed to give an
account of the families of the principal native chiefs by whom these in-
vaders were confronted, and who were finally either subdued into the
English allegiance or fell before their prowess or arts.

* Ware's Writers. t Hoare's Cambrensis. J Hoare.

238

THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

The rise of Tirdelvac (or Turlogh) O'Connor, king of Connauglit,
from being a local toparch to the recognised supremacy of the island,
has already been noticed (page 69). Before his time the chiefs of
Connaught made occasional appearances in Irish history, but nothing
certain of their succession or descent is known. The succession of
Roderic his son, after a brief interval of O'Lochlin's rule, is also noticed,
and his share in the incidents of the invasion is inserted in the life of
Dermod Macmurragh.

RODERIC O'CONNCTR.

KING OF CONNAUGHT. — DIED A. D. 1198.

THE often-slighted memory of the last of Ireland's monarchs demands
the tribute of a memorial from the justice of the impartial historian.
It is difficult to do historic justice to the memory of a name which
has been the subject of unwarranted reproach or slight, according to
the patriotism or the bigotry of different writers, whose disrespectful
comments are not borne out by the facts they state. To these state-
ments we have no objection to offer; but when, in the course of these
memoirs, they have come before us in the order of narration, we have
been so free as to divest them of the tone of misrepresentation, from
which even Leland — who sat down to the undertaking of Irish history
in the most historical spirit — is not free. The ruling national spirit
of our age is faction, to which we might apply all that Scott says of a
softer passion:

" In peace it tunes the shepherd's reed,
In war it mounts the warrior's steed."

In peace or war, amity or opposition, praise or condemnation, party
spirit is diffused through all the functions of society. Few speakers or
writers seem to have retained the clearness of vision which can see the
actions of men otherwise than through the medium of that system of
politics with which the mind is jaundiced in the heat of party : a mist of
liberalism, or of toryism, sits like an atmosphere round every alert and
intelligent actor and thinker ; and nothing is looked on but as it seems
to bear relation to the creed of either party. If any one have the for-
tune (or misfortune) to have preserved that intellectual indifference
which seldom, perhaps, belongs to the highest order of minds; there
is still the fear of opinion, and the respect for individuals, to draw the
judgment aside, and to draw from fear the concession to which opinion
gives no sanction — a weakness the more dangerous, because there is
no modern history, and least of all our own, in which a rigidly im-
partial writer can avoid alternately drawing down the reprehension of
either party; nor can any one, with perfect impunity, pretend to

RODERIC O'CONNOR.

239

redeem historical composition from some of the worst defects of an
electioneering pamphlet. There is yet, in the history of the period to
which Roderic belongs, an error still more prejudicial, founded on the
same principle in human nature.

Dr Leland, after some comments on the subject of the following
memoir, in which we can hardly believe him to have been quite sincere,
adds a reflection, which contains the true answer to all such strictures
on the lives of ancient men. " It would be rash to form the severest
opinion of this [the military] part of his conduct, as we are not dis-
tinctly informed of the obstacles and difficulties he had to encounter.
The Irish annalists who record his actions were little acquainted with
intrigues of policy or faction, and little attentive to their operations.
They confine themselves to the plain exposition of events ; tell us of an
insurrection, a victory, or a retreat; but never think of developing the
secret causes that produced or influenced these events."* But in addi-
tion to this fair admission, there is a weightier and more applicable
truth, from its nature less popular, yet not less to be admitted by
every candid mind. It is this — that the progress of historical events,
and the changes of circumstances in the social state, develop and
mature new feelings, which in their accumulated effects at remote
intervals, amount to a serious difference in the moral nature of the men
of different periods. The social state, with all its divisions of sect
and civil feud, is now so far cemented into one, that a moral impulse
can be made to vibrate through all its arteries, and awaken the in-
tensest national sympathy, on any subject that can be extricated from
exclusive locality. Certain opinions have grown into feelings of
human nature, and have taken such deep root in the mind, that it has
ceased to have the power of dismissing them, even when they are not
applicable. Among these is the strong impression of sect, faction,
country, and common cause, which are principles developed, not only
by civilization, and by reflection or moral culture, but by even those
accidental circumstances which may happen to diffuse a sense of common
interest, or class relation, or in any way create a community. They
who look on the past, as most will, only through the medium of the
present ; who see their own impressions reflected upon the obscure dis-
tance of antiquity, and mistake them for the mind of the remote rude
ancestors of the land ; must find a very pardonable difficulty in realizing
to themselves the fact, that in the period of king Roderic, there was no
community, no national cause, no patriotism, in the operative social ele-
ments of Ireland. Such notions belonged to poetry, or figured in the
periods of rhetoric, and were perhaps recognised as fine sayings by the
hearers, and meant for nothing more by the speakers. But they had no
foundation in the actual state of things. The common complaints of the
people had not yet been taught to offer themselves, in one voice, to a
common government. National questions had not suggested national
individuality, nor a recognised common interest cemented the hostile
and restless strife of petty kings into a country's cause. " We know,"
continues Leland, " that Roderic led great armies against Dermod and
his English allies; but they were collected by inferior chief?, many

* Leland, i. 165.

240

THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

of whom hated and envied him. They were not implicitly obedient lo
their monarch ; they were not paid ; they were not obliged to keep the
field ; and were ready to desert him on the most critical emergency,
if the appointed period of their service should then happen to expire."*
Such was the state of Roderic's power over a force composed of separate
leaders, mutually at strife amongst themselves, and only to be leagued
in resistance to himself. The people they severally led, had no notion
of any country but their district, or of any cause but the interest of the
petty to parch who ruled them with an iron rule of life and death. They
had neither property or freedom, or (be it frankly said) national exist-
ence. Nor was there any reason distinctly in their apprehensions, why
the Dane or the Saxon, should be more to be resisted, than the heredi-
tary faction of the neighbouring district. Their very annalists, who
must have had more expanded views, exhibit but a doubtful glimmer
of any higher sentiment.

In this state of opinion, which also may serve to explain in part
why the conquest of Ireland was not completed by Henry, the fair
observer will see ample vindication of the alleged remissness of O'Con-
nor against the unfounded reflections of some of our historians,
and the angry opprobriousness of others. Of the civil leaders of that
stormy period, Roderic alone seems, by the ample extent of his interests,
to have been led to views beyond his age and national state.

Another general observation must have presented itself to any
indifferent reader of the various accounts of sieges and fights, which we
have had occasion to notice, that no difference of numerical force was
sufficient to ensure the result of a battle to the Irish leader. In their
notices of these engagements, all the writers state clearly, yet with a
seeming unconsciousness, the true causes of any slight check which
the invaders appear to have received in their earliest encounters with
the native force. The well-laid ambush, the unsteady and yielding
footing of the morass, the mazy and uncertain perplexity of thickets,
the crowded and confused outlets of towns : all these afforded to a brave
and active population, slightly armed and accustomed to desultory
warfare, advantages sufficient against the arms and discipline of their
enemy. In not one instance, does there occur the slightest inci-
dent to favour the supposition, that in a pitched battle on open and
firm ground, any superiority of numbers that could be brought to
bear, would have been enough to secure a victory such as the interests
of Roderic would require. If we make a supposition, taking our
standard from the most decided event we can fairly assume — the slaugh-
tor of the company of Armoric de St. Lawrence — it will still appear,
that two hundred men were sufficient for the slaughter of a thousand
of the native force, when surrounded, fighting singly, and at all ima-
ginable disadvantage. Had the two hundred been a thousand, they
would, on the same assumption, have slain five thousand of their
antagonists: but the same assumption would not in this case be
admissible. For the power of a company increases by a law different
from that of numerical increase : no imaginable number could stand
ten minutes against a thousand men killing at the same rate. At

• Leland. i. 165.

RODERIC O'CONNOR. 241

that time the most decided resistance was from a force far more
advanced in arms than the native Irish — the Danes had built, inhabited,
and defended the principal towns. In the long interval between this
period and the battle of Clontarf, their progress in civilization, and
in the various arts of peace and war, had made a considerable progress ;

while the natives had been either stationary or retrogressive the

pastoral habits of the country not being favourable to advance. Dublin,
Wexford, Waterford, Downpatrick, Limerick, were Danish ; wherever
a stand was made, which exhibited a possibility of success, or approach
toward the balanced contest of civilized warfare, the Danes were more
or less the chief parties in the conflict. But there was no such
approximation to equality ; and however the party historian, anxious
to flatter an amiable national pride, may gloss over facts, it must
have soon become apparent to those whose fortunes hung trembling
on the scale, how slight were their chances. The appearance of their
formidable preponderance of numbers may have imparted a momentary
fear to the Normans: for such is the irresistible impression which
connects the idea of power with multitude. And this impression too,
must have been aggravated by the calamities of a protracted warfare ;
decline of health and numbers, with an exhausting penury of food,
during a siege in which the combined power of the nation was at
length brought to bear, and all seemed to desert the hardy little band
of adventurers but their own indomitable and resistless energy. But a
single charge, a slight reverse, against which disciplined habits would
have rallied, or even sincere good-will to the cause among the leaders,
repaired — at once dissipated the cumbrous and imposing, but really
impotent, leaguer; and left the abandoned monarch to save himself
for better days, if such might be in store for his hapless country.

Such is a cursory retrospect of the combination of efficient causes
which controlled one, who, so far from being properly the subject of
imputed censure, was the last and firmest among those on whom fell
the duty of resistance in that dark day of Ireland. He had been
distinguished as an enterprising and successful leader, under those
circumstances of equal trial which have always been the ground for
the fair estimate of character : from this may be safely inferred, that
had equal arms, discipline, and field tactics, placed him on the level of
a possible resistance, the same conspicuous qualities must have been
as apparent. On the other hand, a new combination of circumstances
arose, such as to afford no presumption which could satisfy any one
but one hurried on by an enthusiastic fancy in the calculation of
success ; and the accumulation of uncandid " ifs" is loosely arrayed
to throw an undeserved slight on the monument of a brave but unfor-
tunate hero, who was not only the last who stood forward in the breach
of ruin, but when all had yielded, and every hope was past, alone pre-
served his sceptre, and transmitted to his province the power to be
still formidable amid the ruins of the land.

Koderic O'Connor was the son of Tirlogh, already mentioned, (p. 238.)
He was born about the year 1116. On the death of his father, in
1166, he succeeded to the kingdom of Connaught; and on the death of
Murtagh O'Lochlin, the monarchy reverted to his family, and he was
recognised as king of Connaught and monarch of Ireland, 1166, at
i. Q IT-

242 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

the mature age of fifty ; and " with great pomp and splendour was
proclaimed king in Dublin."* In the next year, from the same valuable
authority, we learn that a great meeting was called by him at Athboy :
" to it went the nobles of Leth Chuin, both clergy and laity, and the
nobles of the Danes of Dublin, thither* went the comarba of St Patrick,
Cadhla O'Duffay archbishop of Connaught, Lawrence O'Toole arch-
bishop of Leinster, Tiernan O'Rourke lord of Brefny, Donchad
O'Carrol lord of Oriel, and the son of Dunslery O'Heochadha king of
Ulidia, Dermot O'Melachlin king of Temor, and Reginald lord of the

Danes of Dublin." The whole amounted to 19>000 horsemen

" At this assembly many good laws were enacted." His accession to
power was, as has been related in our notice of Dermod M'Murragh,
attended by the commencement of the misfortunes of that unworthy
prince, which led to the expulsion from his throne, and the hapless
resource by which he repaired his broken fortunes. The fallen
O'Rourke was raised from a state of humiliation and a miserable
subjection to the insults of a tyrant who hated him, because he had
injured him, by the powerful weight of the hereditary friendship of
O* Conor. And in redressing the injuries of his friendly tributary,
Roderic was not inattentive to the interests of his own kingdom. Con-
stantly in the field, he left no interval of peaceful neglect for the tur-
bulent insubordination of his restless tributaries, or the ambition of
his rivals : but pursued a course of active, firm, and judicious policy
in the field, and wise and beneficent civil administration and legislative
enactment, which secured him the respect of the great body of the
chiefs and clergy. Without reaching an elevation of principle — a
moderation or clemency altogether beyond his time and country —
without being free from the vindictive ferocity, or the arbitrary rule
of a barbaric prince; he was all that posterity can claim from the
virtue and knowledge of his age. But his character was soon to be
put to a test, to which none could have submitted without a soil — the
power of a civilized people,

" An old and haughty nation, proud in arms,"

and to leave a history obscured by circumstances beyond his control,
to the prejudice and the exasperated nationality of after times.

In the year 1171, "a battle was fought in Dublin between Miles
De Cogan, and Asgall, son of Reginald king of the Danes of Dublin ;
many fell on both sides, both of the English archers and of the
Danes, among whom was Asgall himself, and Houn, a Dane from the
Orkney isles. Roderic O'Conor, Tiernan O'Rourke, and Murchad
O'Carrol, marched with an army to Dublin to besiege the city, then
in the possession of earl Strongbow and Miles de Cogan. They
remained there for a fortnight, during which time many fierce engage-
ments took place between them."f A siege of Dublin, garrisoned by
superior forces, was at the time as desperate and dangerous an under-
taking as can well be conceived. Roderic, after the repeated trials of
the force mentioned in the annals, must have begun to perceive the

* Annals, translated for the Dublin Penny Journal, by J. O'Donovan.
•J Annals of the Four Masters, by J. O'Donovan. — /6.

RODERIC O'CONNOR. 243

inadequacy of his present preparation. He pursued the step most
ILkelv to lead to advantage, in distracting the attention and cutting off
the resources of the enemy. He marched into the country of Dermod
for the purpose of carrying off and burning the corn of the English.
His force soon melted away. Feeling that they were unequally matched
against superior advantages, and depressed in spirit by the appearance
of continued danger and toil without any personal interest, they
demanded their dismission on the expiration of the term for which
they were bound to serve. O'Connor had no choice but to lead away
the small residuary force which he could command, in order to return
afresh when a competent army could be raised. Shortly after this
he raised a sufficient force to march against Leinster, for the purpose
of cutting off the resources of the invaders ; which he did to an extent
that was soon after sensibly felt by them, when besieged in Dublin.
By the patriotic efforts of the venerable archbishop O'Toole, he was
again enabled to take the field, and the English were shut up in Dublin
by the greatest force which it had hitherto been found practicable to
collect. Strongbow nearly reduced by famine, and daunted by the
appearance of an overwhelming power, proposed terms which would
have raised the power of Roderic on a firmer basis than the Irish
throne had ever yet attained. But by the communion of a more ad-
vanced wisdom in the person of his friend and counsellor O'Toole, and
also in the natural course of experience, Roderic had acquired higher
and more patriotic views than had hitherto influenced any Irish prince.
He repelled the offer with a stern reply ; and chose to abide by his ad-
vantage. But his ardour carried him away from the path of prudence.
He forgot the frail and evanescent material of the army he led. He
did not calculate on the experience of their coldness to a cause, in
which they only saw the interests of two rival chiefs or leaders con-
cerned. Strong persuasion had worked their spirit to a certain point
of union, but it fell short of the resolution required to face an enemy
whom they had begun to deem irresistible. A well-timed sally ended
all illusion.

Henry landed in Ireland, with a force which set resistance at scorn.
The chiefs showed their true view of the expedient course by coming
in unhesitatingly with submission. One only held aloof — one only
showed a front of defiance, against which Henry, having doubtless the
best information, did not think it wise to cope. One chief treated with
Henry as a king, extorted and maintained his title and his sovereign
power by treaty, and, in fact, handed it down to his sons. And this
was Roderic. But this was not all; as a sovereign he retained the
sword, and while there was the slightest ray of hope, he never forgot
resistance to the spoiler. His enemies enlarged the basis of their
power ; but meanwhile, the Irish were advancing in military discipline,
for which their aptitude was, as it is now, very remarkable. In 1176,
the Four Masters inform us " The Earl Strongbow marched his forces
to plunder Munster, and Roderic O'Connor, king of Connaught, has-
tened to make resistance. When the English heard intelligence of
Koderic's approach to give them battle, they invited the foreigners of
Dublin to their assistance, who with all possible speed marched to
Thurles, where they were met by Donal O'Brien at the head of the

244 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

Dalcassians, by a battalion from West Connaught, and by a numerous
and select army of the Clanmurry under Roderic. A furious engage-
ment ensued in which the English were at last defeated."*

Shortly after, conceiving that the time was at length arrived for the
expulsion of the English, Roderic led a force into Meath, levelled the
forts of De Lacy, and wasted to the gates of Dublin. On this we
extract a few lines from Mr Moore's learned and eloquent work,
both as suitable to our view, and because it exhibits strongly the man-
ner in which the patriotic ardour of the historian leads him to over-
look the inconsistent language which attacks the conduct of this
monarch for not performing confessed impossibilities. Having men-
tioned the seeming emergency of the position of Strongbow, he pro-
ceeds: " But added to the total want in Roderic himself of the
qualities fitted for so trying a juncture, the very nature of the force
under his command completely disqualified it for regular or protracted
warfare ; an Irish army being, in those tunes, little better than a rude
tumultuous assemblage, brought together by the impulse of passion
or the prospect of plunder, and, as soon as sated or thwarted in its
immediate object, dispersing as loosely and again as lawlessly as it had
assembled." Now, if it be considered, that no inference can be brought
to justify the depreciating view which so many able writers have
concurred in forming of Roderic, unless from his failure to effect the
object of his wishes with a force confessedly inadequate — it looks a
little like wandering into a circle of a very vicious kind, to attribute
any failure to the defects of his own character. The conduct of
Roderic was throughout enforced by the most rigid necessity ; and as
it is hardly to be expected that he should have entered into the whole
poetry of modern patriotic antiquarians, so it could still less be demanded
that, with his tumultuary assemblage, disaffected leaders, imperfect
command, and formidable enemy, he should be able to enact the
summary exploits, which are so easy to the rapid and decisive quill of
his critics.

After long grappling with adverse fortune, in his fifty-ninth year,
convinced that he had nothing to depend on for resistance, and not
actuated by " a desperate spirit of patriotism" [which alone] " might
have urged him still to persevere ;" Roderic showing a sagacity, as clear
as his protracted resistance with inadequate materials had shown a
heroism, wisely and considerately resolved to preserve his province
from ravage, by a dignified submission on a most favourable treaty.
With this view he sent Lawrence, whose instrumentality of itself
carries with it approbation, to negotiate with Henry. A council
was summoned by Henry to meet Lawrence, with the archbishop
of Tuam and the abbot of St Brendan's, who were Roderic's
ambassadors. By the terms of the treaty settled at this convention,
it was agreed, " That the king of England concedes to the aforesaid
Roderic, his liege man, the kingdom of Connaught, so long as he shall
faithfully serve him, that he shall be king under him, prepared to
render him service as his vassal. And that he may hold his kingdom
as well aud peacefully as before the coming of the king of England

* Annals of Four Masters.

RODERIC O'CONNOR, 245

into Ireland, on the condition of paying him tribute. He was also to
have the whole of the land and its inhabitants under him, on condition
that they should faithfully pay tribute to the king of England; and
that they should hold their rights on peaceably, so long as they re-
mained faithful to the king of England, paying him tribute and all
other rights through the hands of the king of Connaught — saving in
all things the rights of the king of England and his." This treaty,
of which we have loosely paraphrased the first article, consists of four.
The second stipulates, that if any of the Irish chiefs should be rebels
against the king of England, or withhold their tribute, the king of
Connaught should compel or remove them ; or if unable to do so, that
in such case he should have assistance from the king of England's con-
stable. In the same article it is stipulated, that the king of Connaught
was to pay one hide out of every tenth head of cattle slaughtered. The
third article exempts, from the force of the previous articles, certain
towns and districts already held by or under the king of England by
his barons. And by the fourth and last it was provided, that those
who had fled from the territories under the king's barons, were at liber-
ty to return, under the same conditions of tribute or service to which
they had been formerly subject, &c. &c.* The importance of this treaty,
as it affects the subject of this memoir, is, that it strongly manifests
the respect paid to his vigour of character by the sagacious Henry,
who was not a person likely to yield a hair's-breadth of sovereignty
which he could easily secure or retain. He was, it is true, deeply in-
volved in the troubles of domestic faction and rebellion, and could not
have personally pursued the conquest of Ireland to its completion.
And his distrust of his barons was so easily awakened, that it is pro-
bable, he thought it safer to compromise with the Irish monarch, and
keep up the countercheck of a native power against their ambition,
than to allow any deputed government to raise itself into an indepen-
dent form and force, in the absence of opposition, and from the growing
resources of the whole united power of the country. This may un-
doubtedly take something from the force of any inference favourable
to our view of Roderic ; yet it still exhibits the result of a persever-
ing resistance, crowned with substantial success, where every other
power and authority was compelled to yield. Something was con-
ceded and something trusted, to one who alone never, from the begin-
ning of the contest to the end, laid down his arms or gave up the cause,
till he was left alone — till by late experience he ascertained that he had
no adequate means of resistance, and that his tributaries were not to be
depended on in the field — till they of his own household were leagued
against him ; and until it became more respectable, as well as consider-
ate to his province, to secure an honourable and nearly equal treaty,
than to keep up a discreditable and unprincipled war, of which one
result alone seemed probable — the depopulation of his provincial realm.
From this, there is nothing recorded worthy of further commemora-
tion, in the life of a monarch whose firm and vigorous, as well as
sagacious policy both as king and leader, — until the setting in of a
new order of events baffled and set at nought alike the virtues and

* Cox. Hibernia Anglicana.

246 THE O'CONNORS OF COXNAUGHT.

resources of his country, — might have helped the impartial historian
to form a truer and kinder estimate of his conduct under trials against
which he had no effectual strength but that perse verance against hope,
and under continual failure, for which his conduct is distinguished.
He could not have concentrated the selfish, lukewarm, contentious,
and disaffected chiefs at Ferns or in Dublin, into a compact, dis-
ciplined body of patriots, of which they had not one amongst them. One
mistake he made. He did not, in the clash of petty oppositions and
through the dust of the restless factions of his country, discern in its
proper character and real magnitude, the new danger that was come
upon the kingdom ; he did not see that it was time to abandon old rival-
ship, and to adopt a course of conciliation and combination, to give
even the remotest prospect of resistance to the universal invader; in-
stead of this he looked on the new foe, as simply one among the
turbulent elements in the cauldron of perpetual feud, nor did he dis-
cern his error until the contest had assumed strength, and an extensive
system of preparatory measures was impracticable. Again, he did not
yield in time : an earlier submission would have saved much. But we will
not extend these useless reflections. He felt and acted, not according
to the feelings and opinions of modern patriots, yet very much in the
same general temper ; engrossed by the game of circumscribed passions
and policies of the moment, he could not enlarge his comprehension at
once, to the compass of another spirit and another order of events.

Roderic, at an advanced age, worn out with the labours and vex-
ations of a long life embittered by the ingratitude and turbulence of
his children, retired into the monastery of Cong, where he lived in
peaceful obscurity for twelve years, till 1 1 98, when he died at the age
of about eighty-two.

The character of Roderic has been summed with historic impartiality
by a descendant of his blood : " In his youth, Roderic had failings,
which were under little control from their neighbouring good quali-
ties. Arrogant, precipitate and voluptuous ; the ductility of his temper
served only to put his passions under the directions of bad men, while
its audaciousness rendered him less accessible to those who would
give those passions a good tendency, or would have rescued him from
their evil consequences. His father Turloch the Great, endeavoured
to break this bold spirit, by ordering him at several times to
be put under confinement. He bore this indignity, in the first
trials, with the ignoble fortitude which flows from resentment: in the
second, reflection came to his aid, and grafted that virtue upon a
better stock; which engaged him to be wholly reconciled to his father,
and forget the over-rigorous severity of his last imprisonment. Bred
up in the camp, almost from his infancy, he became an expert warrior ;
and although licentious in private life> yet he never devoted to pleasures
those hours which required his activity in the field or his presence in
the council. In a more advanced stage of life his capacity opened, and
gave the lead to his better qualities, in most instances of his conduct-
Affable, generous, sincere ; he retained a great number of friends, and
lie had the consolation of being served faithfully by the worthiest
among themx when every other good fortune deserted him. Years
and experience took their proper effect on him; and the rectitude of

CATHAL O'CONNOR. 247

his measures had a greater share than fortune in raising him above all
his fellow-countrymen in the public esteem^ when the throne became
vacant upon the fall of his predecessor in the battle of Litterhim.
The crazy civil constitution, of which he got the administration, created
many avowed as well as secret enemies. The former he reduced by
policy and by force of arms. But external circumstances rendered
their subjection precarious. He had to deal with powerful subjects,
who had themselves interests heavier than either good faith or public
interest. To the usual motives of faction, the same external pressure
made their personal interests paramount, and the bond of allegiance
was at no time more than force could maintain.

CATHAL O'CONNOR.

DIED A. D. 1223.

ON the death of the last of Ireland's monarchs, there was for some
time a violent and bloody contention for the provincial throne. Con-
nor Moienmoy was elected, but immediately after met with his death
by the hand of one of his brothers, who in his turn was slain by the
son of Moienmoy; and the province was again plunged into conten-
tion, until at last the vigour and interest of Cathal O'Connor, a son
of Roderick, succeeded in fixing him upon the throne.

Cathal was a prince of active and warlike temper, and had already
acquired renown by his personal prowess, and by the many homicides
which had gained him the title of the bloody hand. He soon increased
his popularity by the demonstration of military ardour, and by his
loud declarations and active preparations against the English settlers.
He spoke with confidence of their expulsion, and promised the speedy
restoration of the monarchy. These threats were rendered not chi-
merical, by the dissensions of the Irish barons and the weakness of the
government; and many other native chiefs, impressed by the vigour
of Cathal's preparations, consented to act in concert with him. With
this view, long standing animosities were laid aside, and treaties of
amity and co-operation were entered upon to support a leader who
spoke the language of patriotism, and came forward in the common
cause. Among these the princes of Desmond and Thomond were the
most prominent; their mutual enmity, embittered by the constant
encroachments of neighbourhood, was adjourned, and they agreed to
join in the support of Cathal.

The first fruit of this new combination was that affecting and tragic
battle at Knockniag, near Tuam, in which the renowned knight Ar-
moric de St Lawrence, with two hundred foot and thirty horse, were
surrounded by Cathal's army and slaughtered, at the cost to the victor
of a thousand men.*

Little creditable as this event was to the arms, the generosity, or
even common humanity of the Irish prince, it had the effect of exciting
the ardour and the emulation of his allies. O'Brien, the prince of Tho-

* See page 232, where the particulars are given.

248 THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAT7GHT.

mond, raised a considerable force, and soon met the English on the
field of Thurles, where he gained a slight victory. Such advantages
were not of a decisive character ; won by surprises, and by the advan-
tage of overwhelming numbers, they had no weight in the scale of
general results; they gave impulse to these excitable but inconstant
and unsteady warriors; and while they had the effect of leading them
on to aggravated misfortunes, they caused to the English infinite incon-
venience, which eventually were compensated by increased acquisitions.
The only result of O'Brien's victory was an increase of vigour, caution,
and determination on the part of the enemy, who extended their depre-
dations into the territory of Desmond, and multiplied their forts to an
extent that struck general alarm into the Irish of that district. The
Irish annalists are supported by the abbot of Peterborough in the
affirmation, that the English practised great cruelties on the family of
O'Brien when, not long after his death, they penetrated into Thomond.*

Cathal was soon apprized of their progress, and of these unusual
atrocities with which it was accompanied. He entered Munster at
the head of a numerous force. The English retired at his approach :
they had no force adequate to the encounter. Cathal followed up the
advantage thus gained by destroying their forts, " to the surprise,"
says Leland, " and admiration of his countrymen, who expected nothing
less than the utter extirpation of their enemies, from a young warrior
in all the pride of fortune and popular favour."! Cathal's judgment
was however far inferior to his courage and activity, and his means of
continued opposition lower still. Having executed this incomplete
achievement, he retired to his province and left the contested terri-
tories to the more deliberate arms and steadier valour of the English.
They were not however in this instance allowed to profit by his negli-
gence, as Macarthy of Desmond interrupted their attempts to reinstate
themselves in the same territories ; this brave chief leading his army
to meet them on their return, gave them a decided overthrow in the
field, and followed up his success with a prudence, activity, and skill,
which compelled them to evacuate the county of Limerick. The result
of this bold and decisive step was to secure this territory for some
years longer, until the city of Limerick was granted in custody to
William de Burgo, who quickly gained possession of it, and thus
effected a settlement which threatened all Munster.

In this juncture, Cathal was rendered inactive by the increasing
distractions of his own province. He had no prudence to enable him
to satisfy the exaggerated expectations to which his fiery courage had
given rise. The admiration occasioned by his first active steps had
subsided into disappointment; and as the loud applause of popular
excitement died away, the longer-breathed murmurs of enmity, jealousy,
disappointed ambition and revenge, like sure and steady bloodhounds,
began to be heard louder and louder in his own province, and around
his court. A vigorous and daring rival collected and concentrated
these elements of faction. But Carragh O'Connor found a surer and
shorter way to supplant his rival than in the intrigues of a court, or
in reliance on the fickle and divided hostility of the natives. He ad-

* Lelnnd. f Ib. i, c. 5.

CATHAL O'CONNOR.

249

dressed himself secretly to Dq Burgo. Cathal had pursued, with some
success, a course which necessarily led to a dangerous hostility with De
Burgo. The claims of this powerful baron in Connaught were such
as Cathal could not be presumed to acquiesce in : but Carragh pro-
mised to invest the baron with all the lands to which he laid claim by
the grant of John, and thus engaged his powerful aid against Cathal.

Under the guidance of De Burgo, the enterprise was conducted
with a celerity which outran all intelligence of their movements ; and
Cathal, surprised in his court, was obliged to consult his personal
safety by flight. Carragh was thus, without a blow, put into possession
of the throne of Connaught. The exiled prince took refuge with
O'Niall of Tyrone. The surrounding chiefs were filled with surprise
and indignation, at the success of an outrage equally atrocious in its
object, and dangerous in its means. A powerful confederacy was
formed to redress a wrong which thus called with equal force upon
their prudence and humanity. But now by experience aware of the
inutility of coping in the field with an English baron of the power of
De Burgo, they adopted the expedient which, though in the first in-
stance dangerous, was in theirs an essential part of prudence, and
entered into treaty with De Courcy and De Lacy, whom they easily
prevailed on to join their league. The two armies, led by De Burgo
on one side, and on the other by De Courcy and De Lacy, soon met ;
the English force on either side gave obstinacy to the combat, and it
was after a struggle of some duration, and contested with great valour
and much loss on either side, that at length the troops of De Burgo
and his ally obtained a decided victory. Thus was Cathal seemingly
as far as ever from redress, and Carragh's usurpation confirmed to all
appearance by success.

O'Niall of Tyrone was reduced to a condition equally deplorable
with that of Cathal. His English allies were yet smarting from their
recent defeat, and now involved in troubles of their own ; but he had
still a considerable faction in Connaught, and he did not desert him-
self. De Burgo had now raised himself to great power, and had com-
pletely broken down all opposition from the Munster chiefs. He
assumed the tone of independent royalty, and showed a vigour, promp-
titude, and boldness in all his measures, which made him more pecu-
liarly accessible to any appeal which either flattered his pride or
excited his ambition and cupidity of acquisition. To him Cathal now
secretly applied. With much address he detached him from his rival's
interest, by the most specious promises and representations, and so
effectually won upon his pride and generosity, that he persuaded him
to declare in his favour against the prince he had so recently set
up in opposition to him. Carragh was little prepared for this formi-
dable emergency: a battle was fought which was quickly decided
against him, and he fell overpowered by numbers; and Cathal was
restored by the conqueror, whom he repaid with the ingratitude which
his fickle caprice and avidity of possession richly deserved. Nor was
De Burgo at the moment in a condition to enforce the fulfilment of his
promises. The faction of Cathal had been strong, and his enemies
were now under his command: De Burgo was quickly compelled to
retreat with precipitation, to avoid an unequal contest. He would

250

THE O'CONNOKS OF CONN AUGHT.

have returned with a fresh army, but other troubles awaited him.
The English governor, Fitz-Heury, had raised a strong force, and was
on his way to Munster for the purpose of chastising his arrogant
assumption of independence ; and the Irish chiefs of Munster, glad of
the occasion to suppress a formidable enemy, whom they feared and
hated, and willing also to conciliate the English government, offered
their services to Fitz-Henry, and were accepted. Among these chiefs
Cathal also came. He saw the opportunity to put down a powerful
and relentless enemy, who would be content with nothing short of
his ruin. De Burgo was soon besieged in Limerick, and compelled
to submit. The Irish chiefs, long harassed by factions and by the
growing pressure of the barons, were happy to seize the favourable
moment to secure their own power and possessions on the best founda-
tion. Cathal consented to surrender to king John two-thirds of Con-
naught, and pay one hundred annual marks for the remainder, which
he was to hold as a vassal of the crown.*

This secure arrangement placed Cathal, -with other chiefs who had
availed themselves of the same opportunity, under the protection
of the crown, and we do not hear much of him further. On the
Irish expedition of John in 1210, he appears among the chiefs who
on that occasion presented themselves to offer homage, or renew their
engagements to the king; and some time after, we find him re-
ceiving, on application, the protection of the crown against John de
Burgo, who was encroaching upon his lands.

This latter occasion presents perhaps the fairest general view that
can be collected from events, of the true position of affairs in this
island, at the latter end of king John's reign.

The English barons, possessed of great wealth, far from control,
and engaged in the pursuits of territorial acquisition ; having also a
contempt for the native chiefs, and living at a time when the principles
of right were little understood, and forcible usurpation sanctioned by
the highest examples of recent history and all the habits of the age ;
armed too with power, which soon learns to trample upon all consider-
ations, they did not with much care resist the constant temptation to
encroachment, where there was no effective resistance. Anxious for
one object, the extension of their possessions, they easily found excuses
to extend their just bounds, and crowds of the natives were thus
stripped of their possessions. This evil was more prevalent in Con-
naught, where the power of the De Burgo family was greatest, and
where there was least counterbalance in any native power. The
greatest control upon these aggressions appears to have existed where
both the English settlers and the native chiefs were the most numerous,
and the distribution of power and property more equal ; a constant
succession of small intrigues and contentions led to less decided and
permanent results. The inferior native chiefs also, were less compelled
to offer to the English arms and policy a front of resistance such as
to bring on their eventual ruin as the only means of quieting their
opposition; and consequently, where kings and powerful provincial
rulers or proprietors were stripped of their vast possessions in the

* Archives, Turr. Loud., quoted by Lel.md.

CATHAL O'CONNOK. 251

struggle of conquest and resistance, most of the minor proprietors
had the means of consulting their safety by a submission which was
preserved by no scruple beyond the presence of immediate danger ; or
by a crafty alliance with those who might otherwise have been for-
midable foes. But to the greater chiefs such courses of safety were not
permitted. The opinion of their provinces was to be respected.
O'Niall of Tyrone was deposed by his subjects, because he suffered a
defeat; and Cathal, defeated in the same battle, was perhaps only ex-
empted, by the misfortunes which had already reduced him to the con-
dition of a suppliant and a fugitive. When, however, he was, by the
course of events compelled to cede two-thirds of his territory, and pay
a rent for the remainder, as the voluntary price of protection, it not
only exhibits the formidable nature of the dangers by which he was
menaced; but may be regarded as a virtual deposition. He was un-
doubtedly prostrated by the force of events, which could only be
arrested in their course by submission, and from the pressure of which
he was left no protection, but an appeal to the king of England.
This appeal, it was the policy of the English government for every
reason to receive with encouraging favour, and although there hung
between the Irish complaint and the throne a cloud of misrepresenta-
tion and ignorance of the state of the country, yet until some time after
when other causes began to interfere, such complaints were sure to
elicit the required interposition. There had at this period fully set in
a long struggle between the barons and the crown, which although oc-
casionally interrupted by the vigour of some reigns, never ceased until
it terminated in the restriction of both these powers, and the develop-
ment of a third ; and it was as much the interest of the English king
to repress the licentious turbulence and spirit of usurpation of the
barons, as it was on such occasions the obvious demand of justice. It
is also apparent, that there was an anxious jealousy excited at this
period, by the vast accumulation of power, possession, and consequence
acquired by some of the greater settlers — and the tone of indepen-
dence which was the occasional consequence. On no occasion were
these results more apparent, than upon the complaint of Cathal O'Con-
nor, under the fierce encroachments of John de Burgo. The O'Connors
who had been in the first struggle the most dangerous opponents, had
also been by far the most ready to preserve the conditions of their own
engagements, and although undoubted instances of the contrary occur,
yet in that age of loose conventions, their family presents the most
honourable examples of the steady preservation of faith and an ob-
servance of sacred engagements which claimed trust and protection
from the English crown, and manifests in this race a spirit enlightened
beyond their period. The reader will perhaps revert to the seemingly
perfidious conduct of this very Cathal, when reinstated by De Burgo ;
and unquestionably, if referred to the morality of an enlightened age,
such must be its description. But we do not so refer it; the faith of
treaties and the solemn acts between kings and states was fully un-
derstood— it was an indispensable principle of the very existence of
nations. But in that age of robbery and spoliation, the rights of in-
dividuals were on a different footing; Cathal looked on De Burgo as
a plunderer who had inflicted on him the deepest injury; and consid-

252

THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

ered it not unjust or dishonourable to circumvent him into an act of
reparation, for which no gratitude was due. It would be tampering
with the most important principles, not to admit the violation of even
such engagements to be quite unjustifiable on any principle ; but the
crime was of the age, the virtue, of the individual. The faith of
Cathal was, it is true, rendered doubtful by the force of constraining
circumstances : he had little choice of resources. His powers of offence
or defence were annihilated. Oppressed by De Burgo, he appealed
to the throne. Against this appeal his oppressor advanced misrepre-
sentations of his motives ; but the case was too palpable, and the insi-
dious representations of his enemies were disregarded. King John
directed his lord justice and other faithful subjects in Ireland to sup-
port O'Connor against his enemies ; and further ordered that no allega-
tions against him should be received, so long as he continued true in
his allegiance to the crown.*

Under this powerful protection the remainder of Cathal's life pre-
sents no further incident for the biographer : he seems to have been
allowed to continue in peaceful possession of his remaining rights till
1223, when he died.

FEIDLIM O'CONNOE, PBINCE OF CONNAUGHTL
SUCCEEDED A. D. 1228.

ON Cathal's death his son Tirlogh was elected by the people, but
immediately deposed by the lord justice, and a brother raised in his
room. The new sovereign became involved in a quarrel in consequence
of some unlucky misapprehensions, which led to his death in a riot
that ensued. His murderer was discovered and executed.

Tirlogh assumed the sovereignty ; but Richard de Burgo, who had
himself a claim to succeed Cathal, for reasons not stated, thought pro-
per to raise Feidlim to the succession. Such apparently was the course
most favourable to his plans of self-aggrandizement. The obstacles
his ambition feared were more likely to arise from the suspicions of
the king of England, and the vigilance of his governors, than from a
small provincial ruler, whom he considered as existing only by his
favour, and whose name and authority he might hope to use as the
mask and instrument of his designs. He was, however, mistaken in
his choice.

From Feidlim, De Burgo received a lesson which belonged peculiarly
to the experience of his time. Feidlim was a prince of very uncommon
spirit and sagacity, and quickly saw and seized on the advantages of
his position ; — these are so obvious, that we may assume them safely. It
must have been plainly apparent that by a tame submission to De Burgo,
he could be nothing more than an instrument in the absolute power of
that encroaching baron, who simply raised him to occupy a nominal
right over territory which he found it dangerous to seize at once, until
it should be effected by slower and more safe degrees, by means of a

* Rymer.

FEIDLIM O'CONNOR, PRINCE OF CONNATJGHT. 253

succession of arbitrary and oppressive acts. Sooner than submit to
such an abject and precarious footing, Feidlim preferred to hazard all ;
but he had caution and foresight equal to his boldness. He justly
reckoned on the troubles in which the turbulent ambition of De Burgo
would quickly and frequently involve him ; and relied also on the steady
character of the English protection, could it once be obtained, free
from the capricious intervention of the barons and their dependents.
He formed his plans accordingly.

He commenced by resistance to oppressive and unjust demands. De
Burgo, who was little likely to acquiesce in resistance from one whom
he considered as the creature of his will and convenience, at once
marched against him, and made him prisoner. Feidlim had the good
fortune to escape. Still more fortunately for him, Hubert de Burgo,
the English justiciary at this time, fell into disgrace ; and, in conse-
quence, his nephew was deprived of the government, and Maurice Fitz-
Gerald appointed in his stead. Feidlim, with ready sagacity, seized
upon the favourable moment. Aware of the insufficiency of any means
of resistance in his power, and reckoning justly on the effects of De
Burgo's discredit, he made a pathetic and forcible appeal to the king,
in which he set forth, in strong terms, the known fidelity of his father,
Cathal, and his own — the extensive cessions they had freely made — the
strong pledges of protection they had received — and the unjust arid
insatiable rapacity of De Burgo. To these considerations he added a
strong description of his disregard of the royal rights in Ireland — his
seizure of the king's forts — his depredations and military inroads upon
his faithful liegemen — and his general assumption of powers altogether
inconsistent with the fidelity of a subject. To this representation he
added an earnest request to be permitted to repair to England, and
cast himself at the foot of the throne, that he might more fully explain
the crimes of De Burgo, and his own wrongs. This judicious step of
O'Connor was successful. Henry was surprised at an account so different
from those with which he had been duped, according to the consistent
and fatal policy of his Irish barons and ministers, whose immunities
were extended and their crimes concealed by continued misrepresenta-
tions to the crown. Of O'Connor, he had been given to understand
that he had led an army of Connaught men into the king's lands,
and had been defeated with the loss of 20,000 men. This monstrous
falsehood induced Henry to act with caution. He wrote to O'Connor,
directing him to defer his journey till he had, with the concurrence of
the lord deputy, endeavoured to take the castle of Melick from De
Burgo ; after which service, when the province of Connaught should be
peaceably settled, and delivered up to the lord deputy, he might be
admitted to his presence, and his cause fully heard. In the meantime,
the king wrote to Fitz- Gerald, apprizing him of this letter, and desiring
him to employ trusty persons to ascertain the truth. This answer of
the king's effected the immediate purpose of O'Connor, as it recognised
him as a vassal, and authorized him to act against his oppressor. The
consequence was, that he was allowed to enjoy his province without
further present molestation, under the sanction of Henry's support.
The gratitude of Feidlim was shown by loyalty and active service : in
1244 he accompanied Maurice Fitz-Gerald, with an Irish force, against

THE O'CONNORS OF CONNAUGHT.

the Welsh. The circumstances are mentioned in our notice of Fitz-
Gerald.

Of Feidlim there is nothing further worthy of remark to be dis-
tinctly ascertained. His life had been a succession of struggles, in
which his energy, courage, and sagacity, were unremittingly employed,
to maintain possession of the little that remained of his ancestral
dignity and possessions. The comparative peace of the remainder of
his life may be inferred from the silence of historians. The time of his
death is not specified.

SECOND FEIDLIM o' CONNOR, PRINCE OF CONNAUGHT.

DIED A. P. 1316.

Tins unfortunate prince was most probably the grandson of the
prince of the same name commemorated in the preceding memoir. Of
liis personal history we know no more than the particulars which be-
long to the general history of the period. But these are such as to fix
his claim to a separate notice.

On the invasion of Ireland by the Scots, under the command of
Edward Bruce, in 1315, Feidlim joined De Burgo with his provincial
force. He was about twenty-two years of age, high spirited and dis-
tinguished for his military ardour, but rash and inexperienced. He
was probably impatient of the domineering influence under which he
was controlled by the power and pride of the De Burgos, and was
therefore the more open to the secret seductions of Bruce. To him
Bruce represented the disgrace of his dependent condition ; he re-
minded him of the ancient power and honour of his illustrious line ;
and promised to reinstate him in all the possessions of his family as
fully as they had been possessed by the greatest monarch of his race ;
for this purpose he conjured him to desert his oppressors, and the
enemies of his family and nation, and to join him in driving them from
the island. Feidlim, easily seduced by this romantic notion, sought a
pretence to detach himself from the earl of Ulster. Such a pretence
was nearer than he would have wished.

Taking advantage of his absence, Roderic, a near relation, possess-
ed himself of his territories. He, too, entered into a communication
with Bruce, and promised to assist him and put the province of Con-
naught under his sovereignty, if he were himself fixed securely in
possession of the powers and territories of the rightful prince. His
offer of service was accepted ; but he was at the same time warned of
the danger which would follow from division, and entreated to leave
Feidlim's possessions undisturbed, until the expulsion of the common
enemy should leave them at liberty to discuss their respective claims.
Roderic, who was perhaps aware of the hollowness of this politic
counsel, and that he had no claims suited to such a discussion, gave
no heed to the advice, and proceeded with vigour and success to ob-
tain his objects. He found no difficulty in compelling or influencing
the septs to give hostages for their faithful adherence to his interest ;
and when Feidlim had arrived to protect liis own rights, he found that

SECOND FEIDLIM O'CONNOR, PRINCE OF CONNAUGHT. 2,~>5

lie was too late. His march had been interrupted and beset by the
Northern septs, who looked upon him as an ally of their enemies, and
when he had reached a safe position, he was no longer at the head of
an army ; his remaining followers were few and discouraged, and he
was without the means of supporting them.

He was soon followed by De Burgo, whose force did not enable
him to meet Bruce in the field. But even with this reinforcement,
Feidlim was not strong enough to bring matters to the issue of arms.

At this time Sir John Birmingham was appointed commander in Ire-
land ; and considering Feidlim as the ally of the English, he immediate-
ly joined him with a body of English troops, and he was reinstated in
his possessions by an engagement in which his rival was defeated and
slain.

The first use this unfortunate prince made of his deliverance, was
such as indeed to deserve the fatal consequences which he soon incurred.
He was no sooner freed from the presence of his deliverers, than he
threw off concealment, and openly declared for Bruce.

The penalty followed soon upon the crime. William de Burgo
and Richard de Birmingham were detached into Connaught, to
chastise his defection. They met near Athenry, a town within eleven
miles of Galway ; and an engagement ensued, in which Feidlim was
slain. This battle was fatal to his race, which never again recovered its
importance and authority. It was also the most sanguinary that had
taken place since the arrival of the English : the slain on the part of
the Irish are said to have been about 8,000, and there seems no reason
to doubt the statement.

Of this family we shall have no further account to offer: in
common with several others of the native royal or aristocratic fami-
lies, they were, after a few generations of struggle among the violent
eddies of a great revolutionary tide, swept down from their state and
ceased to retain historic importance. Their hour of greatness had at
no time been unclouded by adversity, vicissitude, and the perpetual
interruptions of reverse. The O'Connors were in this more fortunate
than most others of Irish race, that they have not wholly sunk into the
lowest popular level. Many respectable families of their descendants
still hold portions of their ancient wealth, and in public estimation, in-
vested with the memories of their race, live among the most respec-
table of the Irish proprietary, whether of native or Norman race. Of
these families we have, in the course of our necessary inquiry, obtained
considerable, though somewhat casual, notice. — Of the Sligo O'Connors
we have met many notices ; of the Ballintubber O'Connors, who possessed
large districts in the Roscommon country, we have much both of per-
sonal and traditionary information. This latter, the main branch of
this ancient princely race, was itself divided, in the course of descent,
into two lines — distinguished by the terms Dhuna and Ruadh, dark
and red, from the hair of their immediate first ancestors. Between
these two the lands of the barony were divided. After the usual cus-
tom of neighbours or kinsmen of Irish race, the two families inherited
the mutual hostilities of their fathers ; in the result, the Ballintubber
barony fell to the descendants of Sir Hugh O'Connor, among whom, in
different denominations and diminished proportions, it yet remains.

256 THE DE BURGOS.

To those who have a curiosity on the interesting subject of Irish
genealogy we would refer to a very able and closely reasoned inquiry
respecting the latter family, by Roderic O'Conor, Esq., barrister-at-
law, a direct descendant of Tirlogh, in common with the Ballintubber
branch. His statement — of which we have fully traced the docu-
mentary authorities — will be found at the end of the same learned
gentleman's history of Ireland, — a work from which we have derived
much instruction, and can confidently recommend.

THE DE BURGOS.

WILLIAM FITZ-ADELM.
DIED A. D. 1204.

THE lineage of De Burgo is derived from a noble Norman race,
descended from Charlemagne. The first ancestor whose name occurs
in history, John De Comyn, general of forces, and governor of chief
towns in France, — whence, says Mr. Burke, the name " De Burgh."
Their descendants are yet numerous, and, like the race of De Courcy
and St. Laurence, have spread into many houses of high respectability,
among whom may be reckoned the Burghs, the Bourkes, and Burkes,

the last of which names has been rendered illustrious by the genius

and virtue of the first of orators and statesmen, Edmund Burke. It
will be needless to inform the reader that the name of De Burgo is in
the direct line represented by the Marquess of Clanricarde, of Portumna
Castle, in the county of Galway.

The subject of our present notice was descended from Arlotta,
mother of William the Conqueror, by a first husband, Hanlowen De
Burgho. Their son Kobert, earl of Cornwall, was father of two sons,
John and Adelm — the latter of whom was father to this deputy ; while
from the other came the family of De Burgho.

William Fitz-Adelm was sent with De Lacy to Ireland, by Henry II.,
to receive the submission of Roderic O'Connor, and was made governor
of the city of Wexford, and generally the king's deputy in Ireland, — a
charge for which he seems to have possessed no capacity. He com-
menced his government by a progress of inspection. A meeting of the
clergy was assembled at Waterford, when Pope Adrian's bull was read,
and the king's title formally proclaimed under the formidable salvo of
ecclesiastical denunciation, — a sanction of small power over the native
mind, but enforced against the Norman conquerors by the superstition
of the medieval church.

But the weapon which the actual state of the country required was
wanting. The chiefs quickly perceived that the sword was wielded with a
feeble hand, and soon began to make bolder and more successful efforts
for the recovery of their power. Fitz-Adelm seemed to have little in-
clination or ability for resistance against the common enemy ; but he had
come over to the country with a prejudiced mind, and exerted his au-
- thority for the oppression of those whom he wanted spirit to protect. One

RICHARD DE BURGO. 257

object only seemed to animate his conduct — extortion and circumven-
tion, which he exercised on the English chiefs with a wanton freedom
and indifference to the forms of justice, which could not have long
been endured. The death of Maurice Fitz-Gerald left his sons expos-
ed to the crafty influence of this governor; he prevailed on them to
exchange their quiet residence in the fort of Wicklow, for the castle
of Ferns, which was a kind of thoroughfare for the inroads of the
native chiefs. In the same manner Raymond, Fitz- Stephen, and others,
were, by a train of fraud and violence, as occasion required, compelled
to make such exchanges as suited the rapacity or designs of the gover-
nor. The consequence was a spreading of discontent among the
English of every rank. The leaders displayed their contempt and hate ;
the soldiers became turbulent and mutinous ; while the Irish chiefs —
who discovered in the venal governor a new and easy way to effect
their objects — crowded round the court, where they found in the vanity,
feebleness, prejudice, and corruption of the governor, the advantages
over their old enemies, which they could not gain in the field. Every
cause was decided in their favour; and it is alleged that Fitz-Adelm
was induced by bribes to demolish works which had been constructed
for the protection of the English in the vicinity of Wexford.*

Such a government could not continue long under a monarch so
watchful as Henry. Fitz-Adelm was recalled. They who wish to tem-
per the statements which we have here abridged, with an appearance of
historical candour, say little of a redeeming character; and we can-
not but think that the general dislike of his historians, is of itself
warrant enough for all that we have repeated from them. He founded
and endowed the monastery of Dromore. But it brought forth no
historian to repay his memory with respect. ^

He was recalled in 1 1 79? and Hugh de Lacy substituted. He re-
ceived large grants in Connaught, and was the ancestor of the illustri-
ous family of Clanricarde; and of the still more illustrious name of
Burke — the noblest and most venerable in the annals of Ireland, if the
highest claim to honour be acceded to the noblest intellect adorned
with the purest worth. He married a natural daughter of Richard
I., by whom he left a son — whom we shall have to notice farther
on — and, having died in 1 204, he was buried in the abbey of Athasil,
in Tipperary, which had been founded by himself.

RICHARD DE BURGO.

DIED A. D. 1243.

AMONGST the greater names by which the annals of this period are
illustrated, few are more entitled to our notice than Richard De Burgo.
He was the son of Fitz-Adelm, of whom we have already given a

* Cox says, "This governor, Fitz-Adelm, was very unkind to Raymond, and
all the Geraldines, and indeed to most of the first adventurers. He forced the
sons of Maurice Fitz-Gerald to exchange their castle of "Wicklow for the decayed
castle of Femes ; and when they had repaired that castle of Femes, he found some
pretence to have it demolished. He took also from Raymond all his land near
Dublin and Wexford. "

I. R Ir.

258 THE DE BURGOS.

sketch, by Isabella, natural daughter to Richard I., and widow of
Llewellyn, prince of Wales. He succeeded by the death of his father
in 1204, to the greater part of the province of Connaught, the grant
of which was confirmed to him by king John, for the yearly rent of
300 marks ; and again by Henry III. for a fine of 3000 marks. This
grant was afterwards enlarged by a subsequent transaction in the year
1225, when the lord justice Marshall was directed to seize the whole
of Connaught, forfeited by O'Connor, and to deliver it up to Richard
de Burgo, at the rent of 300 marks for five years, and afterwards of
500 yearly. From this was excepted a tract, amounting to five can-
treds, reserved for the maintenance of a garrison in Athlone. These
grants appear to have been slowly carried into effect; in the first
instance, they were no more than reversions on the death of Cathal
O'Connor, who had still continued to hold a doubtful and difficult state
in his paternal realm. His restless and turbulent spirit soon afforded
the pretext, if it did not impose the necessity, of proceeding to more
violent extremities ; but his death in 1223 made the claim of De Burgo
unconditional.

This, nevertheless, did not deter the native chiefs from proceeding in
pursuance of custom, to the election of a successor ; and Tirlogh O'Con-
nor, brother to Cathal, was invested with the royal name and pretensions.
This nomination drew forth the interference of the government, at the
time in the hands of De Marisco. But the hostilities of this governor
were rather directed against the disaffected Irish prince, than in
support of the already too powerful settlement. De Marisco having
led a powerful force into Connaught, expelled Tirlogh, and set Aedh
a son of Cathal in his place. Aedh, however, availed himself of the
power thus acquired, for the purpose of resisting the power by which
he was set up ; and a contention ensued, in the result of which he
met his death in some tumultuary affair between his people and those
of De Marisco. Tirlogh re-assumed his claims; but Richard de
Burgo had by this time succeeded De Marisco in the government of
the country, and was thus armed with the power to right his own
cause effectually. He deposed Tirlogh: but instead of directly as-
serting his claim to a paramount jurisdiction, he thought it more con-
sistent with his ambition to act under the shadow of a nominal kingly
authority, and accordingly placed Feidlim O'Connor, another son of
Cathal, on the throne. His expectations were, however, disappointed
by the spirit and sagacity of his nominee : Feidlim resisted his exac-
tions, and refused to lend himself to his plans of usurpation and en-
croachment. De Burgo, indignant at this return for a seeming but
selfish kindness, and stung by disappointment, avenged himself by the
appointment of a rival prince of the same line, and marching to sup-
port his nomination, he contrived to make Feidlim his prisoner.
Feidlim escaped, and collecting his friends and adherents, he defeated
and slew the rival prince.

At this time Hubert de Burgo, uncle to Richard, fell into disgrace.
He had for a long period, by the favour of these successive monarchs,
been one of the greatest subjects in the kingdom — perhaps in Europe.
He was chief justice of England, and had also been created earl of
Connaught, and lord justice of Ireland for life. He was now displaced

RICHARD DE BURGO. 2,59

from his offices, and as Richard had been appointed in Ireland by his
nomination and as his deputy,* he was involved in the consequences
of his dismissal, and Maurice Fitz- Gerald appointed lord justice of
Ireland.

The power and authority of Richard de Burgo were probably not
seriously affected by the change : but the complaints of Feidlim
O'Connor, representing his own wrongs and also the dangers to English
authority which were likely to arise from the uninterrupted machinations
of so turbulent and powerful a baron, had the effect of alarming the
fears of Henry III. In consequence, a letter was written to Maurice
Fitz-Gerald, of which the consequences will hereafter be more fully
detailed. De Burgo was placed in a state of hostility with the English
government; and king Feidlim his enemy, by a commission of the
king, appointed to act against him.

Such a state of things under the general system of modern govern-
ments, when the relative position of king and subject are guarded by
a proportionate difference of powers and means, must have terminated
in the speedy ruin of the subject thus circumstanced. On the growing
fortunes of De Burgo it had no effect. His uncle too returned into
power, and shortly after we find Richard acting under his commission
against earl Marshall, as already described.

On the return of his uncle to power, the king had been content to
remonstrate with De Burgo, on his alleged disloyalty. He received
him into favour, and gently intimated his advice, that for the time to
come he should be found careful to observe such orders as he might
receive, and in guarding against even the suspicion of disloyalty.
De Burgo seems to have been little influenced by this remonstrance.
He contrived to gain the lord justice to his side ; and easily finding
some of those lawful excuses, which never yet have been found wanting
for any occasion, they joined in the invasion on king Feidlim. The
pretence was the suppression of insurrections ; and under this pretence,
they contrived to seize on large tracts of territory. Feidlim repeated
his complaints, and the king sent an order for his redress to Maurice
Fitz-Gerald ; but a war with Scotland having commenced, and the king
having ordered the attendance of Fitz-Gerald and the Irish chiefs,
English and native — grounds for delay arose, and the storm was
averted from De Burgo. He thus went on in the improvement of his
circumstances, already grown beyond the limits of a subject. In 1 232,
we find an account of his having built the castle of Gal way ; and still
growing in power and territorial possession, in 1236, he built that of
Lough Rea. He now affected the state of a provincial king, and kept
a train of barons, knights, and gentlemen, in his service, and about his
person.

In 1242, he went, accompanied by a splendid suite, to meet king
Henry in Bourdeaux, but died in France in 1243.t

He was married to Hodierna, daughter to Robert de Gernon, and
by her mother grand-daughter to Odo, son of Cathal O'Connor,
known by the appellation of Crovderg, king of Connaught, By her
he left Walter de Burgo, his successor, and two daughters, of whom

* Cox. y. 60. f Lodge, i. 119.

260 THE DE BURGOS.

one was married to Theobald Butler, ancestor to the Ormonde family;
the other to Henry Netterville, ancestor to Lord Netterville.*

WALTER DE BURGO.
DIED A. D. 1271.

OP Walter de Burgo we have little to ofter. He succeeded his
father last noticed. By his marriage with the heiress of De Lacy, he
acquired the earldom of Ulster.

It happened that the Macarthys in the south having taken arms
against the Desmonds, and gained a victory, were in the pursuit of their
success led to some encroachment on the right of Eavl Walter. He at-
tacked the Irish chief and gave him a signal defeat ; and followed it up
by an inroad into their country, and after spreading devastation, com-
pelled the Macarthys to give hostages. This victory enabled the Ger-
aldines to lift their heads again. De Burgo, whose interests were those
of a rival, did not acquiesce in such a result, and a long and deadly
feud ensued.

In the course of this the Geraldines, resenting the supposed partiality
of the Lord Deputy's interference, seized his person and sent him
prisoner to one of their castles, thus drawing upon themselves a more
formidable hostility. De Burgo pushed his advantage into Connaught,
until he roused the resentment of Aedh O'Conor, the successor of
Feidlim, who collected his forces and gave him a sanguinary defeat.

His death followed soon after at his castle in Galway.

RICHARD DE BURGO.
DIED A. D. 1326.

RICHARD, the second earl of Ulster, called from his complexion the
red earl,f was educated in the court of Henry III. He was the most
powerful subject in Ireland. In 1273 he pursued the Scots into Scot-
land, and, in return for a most destructive incursion, in which they
effected great devastation in this island, he killed many men and spoiled
many places. For this exploit he was made general of the Irish forces
in Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and Gascoigne, &c. He made many wars
in Ireland ; raising and depressing at his pleasure the native chiefs of
Connaught and Ulster. He gradually attained to such an eminence
that his name was mentioned in all commissions and parliamentary rolls
before that of the lord-lieutenant. He attended on the king in all his
expeditions into Scotland.

His foundations of monasteries and castles are numerous and widely
scattered. He built a Carmelite monastery at Loughrea, and also
built the castles of Ballymote and Corran in Sligo, with a castle in the
town of Sligo; Castle- Connel on the Shannon near Limerick; and

* Lodge. f Ibid.

EDMUND DE BUEGO. 261

Green castle in Down, near Carlingford bay. He closed a long and
active public life, by giving a magnificent entertainment to the nobility
assembled at a parliament held in Kilkenny; after which he retired to
the monastery of Athasil, the foundation and burial-place of his family
There he died in 1326.

EDMUND DE BUEQO.

DIED A. D. 1336.

EDMUND DE BURGO, the fourth son of Richard, the second earl of
Ulster, was made custos rotulorum pads, in the province of Connaught.
He is however only mentioned here on account of the horrible manner
of his assassination by a relative of his own, Edward Bourk Mac-
William, who contrived to fasten a stone to his neck, and drown him
in the pool of Lough Measgh — a deed which occasioned frightful con-
fusion, and nearly led to the destruction of the English in Connaught.

From this unfortunate nobleman descended two noble families, whose
titles are now extinct, the lords of Castle-Connel and Brittas.

WILLIAM DE BURGO, EAEL OF ULSTER.
A. D. 1333.

THIS nobleman was married to Maud, third daughter of Henry Plan-
tagenet, earl of Lancaster, and by her had a daughter who was married
to Lionel, duke of Clarence, third son of King Edward III., who was in
her right created earl of Ulster and lord of Connaught. By her he be-
came possessed of the honour of Clare in Thomond, from which came
the title of Duke Clarence, which has since been retained in the royal
families of England. Lodge, from whom chiefly we have taken these
particulars, mentions in addition, that the title Clarencieux, of the king
of arms for the south of England, is similarly derived ; for when the duke-
dom of Clarence escheated to Edward IV., on the murder of his brother
George duke of Clarence, he made the duke's herald a king at arms,
under the title of Clarencieux. The early death of this unfortunate
nobleman might seem to exempt the biographer from the task of notic-
ing a life which could be little connected with the political history of
the period; but the circumstances of his death, in themselves marked
by the worst shades of daring licence and treachery, appear to give a
frightful testimony to the consequences of misgovernment.

The history of every transaction which had occurred during the five
generations which had elapsed since Henry II., had tended to prove that
there was among the Irish of those generations an assumption that no
pledge was binding, no deception dishonourable in their dealings with
the Norman race. It was obvious that no bargain could bribe the
assassin and the robber from their spoil, if the booty offered a reward
beyond the bribe. The marauder would naturally look to secure both,
or calculate at least the gain between them. Actuated by no principle

262 THE DE BUKGOS.

but the desire of acquisition or the thirst for revenge, the powerful
native chief readily assumed the specious tone of good faith and honour,
and frankly pledged his forbearance or protection, until he received the
reward; it then became the consideration, and the only one he cared
to entertain, what course his interest might prescribe. The reward was
to be viewed but as an instalment of concessions to be extorted by
future crimes; the pledge, the treaty, the oath, were given to the
winds that have ever blown away such oaths. Of this fatal policy we
shall have again to speak; its present consequence was general dis-
order and licence.

The earl of Ulster was murdered by his own servants, in June, 1333,
in the twenty-first year of his age, at a place called the Fords, on his
way into Carrickfergus. This atrocity is supposed to have been caused
by the vindictive animosity of a female of his own family, Gyle de
Burgo, whose brother he had imprisoned. She was married to Walter
de Mandiville, who gave the first wound, and attacked him at the head
of a large body of people. His death caused a great commotion among
the people of Ulster, who rose in large bodies in pursuit of his mur-
derers, and killed three hundred of them in one day. His wife fled
with her infant daughter to England, and very vigorous steps were
taken to bring every one to justice who was accessary to the murder.
In all public pardons, granted at the time by government, a clause was
added, " excepting the death of William, late earl of Ulster."*

Some of the results of the earl's death have a curious interest, and
some a painful one: the decline of the De Burgo family was a conse-
quence, and with it that of the English settlers on the Ulster estates.
The feebleness of the administration operated to prevent the legal occu-
pation of the territories of the murdered earl, by the king as guardian
to his infant daughter ; they became, therefore, the object of contention
between the members of the family and the descendants of the house
of O'Niall, their ancient possessor. The consequence was a bloody
and destructive war, fatal to the English settlers ; who were, notwith-
standing much detached resistance, and many a gallant stand, cut up
in detail by numbers and treachery, until few of them were left. In
Connaught, two of the most powerful of the De Burgo family seized
and divided the vast estates of their unfortunate kinsman ; and in the
means by which they maintained this wrong, have left another testi-
mony of the licentious anarchy of the time, and of its main causes and
character. An usurpation against the law of England was maintained
by its renunciation. With it they renounced their names, language,
dress, manners, and every principle of right acknowledged in their
previous life ; and instead, adopted the costume and character of Irish-
men, and assumed the name of Mac William, Oughter, and Eighter.
They were followed in this unfortunate and derogatory step by their
dependents, and thus spread among the Connaught settlers, a deteri-
oration of character and manners, from which they did not soon
recover.

A policy of compromise has the fatal effect of rendering the whole
administration one of false position and impolitic expedient. It must

* Lodge.

ULICK, FIRST EAEL OF CLANRICARDE.

263

revolve between heartless concession and rash violence. And such was
the Irish government of Edward, which again plunged the kingdom in
disorders from which it had been but recently emerging amidst a
doubtful and dangerous undulation. The unfortunate distinction,
which forced the English settlers into the position of enemies, followed
and completed the steps of a ruinous impolicy.

TJLICK DE BURGH, FIRST EARL OF CLANRICARDE.
DIED A. D. 1544.

THIS nobleman was a distinguished person in his day. His services
were, however, as well as the main incidents of his life, too local in
their character to claim much room in this advanced period of our work.
We notice him chiefly as the founder of the important provincial towns
of Roscommon, Galway, Loughrea, Clare, &c , &c., and Leitrim ; which
achievement, more useful than heroic, and more permanent in result
than memorable in the records of our eventful history, may show the
vast extent of his territories. He was seized in fee of Clanricarde,
Clare, Athenry, and Leitrim, In 1543 he surrendered and obtained
a regrant of these territories from Henry VIII., who, at the same time,
created him earl of Clanricarde, conferring upon him many other grants
and privileges. He died in the following year, leaving one son,
llichard, his successor.

RICHARD, SECOND EARL OF CLANRICARDE.
DIED A. D. 1582.

THE first exploit for which this earl is commemorated is the capture
of O'Connor of Offaly,who had for some time been giving great trouble
to the government, and very much disturbed the quiet of the pale.
He was on this account proclaimed a traitor by the government; in
consequence of which he became so much alarmed for his safety, that
he came into Dublin, 18th November, 1548, and made his submission.
He was pardoned by the deputy. But on recovering from his alarm,
his restless and turbulent spirit, incapable of subordination, soon re-
turned to the same troublesome course.

It was therefore found necessary to proceed to rougher extremities,
and he was taken prisoner by the earl of Clanricarde, who sent him to
Dublin, where he was put to death.

In the year 1552 he took the castle of Roscommon by stratagem,
and in the following year, being at war with John de Burgo, he in-
vaded his lands, but was compelled to retire; Daniel O'Brien having
come to the aid of John. It is mentioned by Ware that in 1558 the
earl gained a great victory over the Scotch adventurers who joined his
enemies, to the almost entire destruction of their body. The Scottish
adventurers had been deprived of employment by the settlement of
the war in Tyrconnel, and entered into the service of spme disaffected

264

THE O'BRIENS OF THOMOND.

chiefs of the western province. The earl, in conjunction with Sir
Richard Bingham, met and defeated them at the River Moye with
considerable slaughter. They were pursued by the earl, to the dis-
persion of the remains of their force, and their attack on Munster was
retaliated by Sussex, who made a descent on the Scottish Isles.

The latter years of this earl seem to have been disturbed by the dis-
sensions of his unruly sons, who not only quarrelled amongst them-
selves, but rebelled against their father. The earl was thrice married,
and these sons were perhaps bred up wi$h no kindly feeling among
themselves. At his death in 1582, he was succeeded by Ulick, his
eldest son, whose legitimacy was disputed, but confirmed.

THE O'BRIENS OF THOMOND.

DONALD 0 BRIEN, PRINCE OF THOMOND.

DIED A. D. 1194.

THIS chief is famous among the Irish writers, and was popular in
his day. He occupies an equal place in the history of the troubles of
this period, and in the annals of the Irish church. He was among the
first of the Irish princes who submitted to the English — a step for
which his character has suffered some unjust reprehension, from the
inconsiderate nationality of some of our most respectable authorities.
To enter on the subject here would involve us in needless repetition, as
we have had occasion to weigh the force of such opinions, once for
all, in our life of Roderic O' Conor, who, in the same manner, has been
grossly misrepresented.

Donald succeeded, on the death of his brother, to the kingdom of
Thomond, in 1168. To this he soon added the kingdom of Ormond,
which he took from his brother Brian, whom he deprived of his eyes ;
he thus became sole chief of north Munster. Two years after, he became
involved in hostilities with Roderic O' Conor, against whom he was
assisted by Fitz-Stephen, an alliance by which the English gained a
footing in Munster. In the following year, he took the oath of alle-
giance to king Henry ; but, conceiving soon that he was likely to lose
his independence, and to have his territory endangered — or, more pro-
bably, taking up a tone of opposition from the surrounding chiefs — he
appears, in 1 173, engaged in repeated struggles with the English. In
this year, he destroyed the castle of Kilkenny, and made various de-
structive incursions upon the English lands. In 1 175, he was dethroned
by Roderic, and his brother raised to his throne ; but, on making sub-
mission, he was, in the following year, restored.

He died in 1 1 94, king of all Minister. He left many sons, and is
celebrated by ecclesiastical writers. His monastic foundations were
many; among these the most important. to mention are the cathedrals

MURROUGH O'BRIEN. 265

of Limerick and Cashel. The latter of these occupied the site of the
king's palace, and included the venerable ancient structure called Cor-
mac's chapel, which was, from the new erection, allotted to the pur-
pose of a chapter- house.

MORTOUGH O'BRIEN.

DIED A. D. 1333.

MORTOUGH O'BRIEN, in common with every person of the name who
finds a place in our pages, was descended from the hero of Clontarf, and
was inaugurated king of Thomond in 1311. After undergoing manv
perilous vicissitudes in the party wars of his own family, he was obliged
to fly, in 1314, from Thomond. He found a refuge in Connaught
with the Burkes and Kellys, by whom he was humanely received and
hospitably entertained. After undergoing some further troubles and
reverses, he at last succeeded, in 1315, in fixing himself in the secure
possession of his provincial territories. In 1316, he was chosen by
the English of Munster to lead them against Bruce, and at their head
he obtained some partial victories, which won him honour, and contri-
buted both to protect Munster and weaken the Scotch. He enjoyed
his sovereignty in peace till 1333, the year of his death.

MURROUGH O'BRIEN, FIRST EARL OF THOMOND, AND BARON
INCHIQUIN.

DIED A. D. 1551.

AMONG the great Irish chiefs who joined in surrendering their claim
to native dignities and to ancient hereditary tenures and privileges,
which it became at this period both unsafe and inexpedient to retain,
none can be named more illustrious, either by descent or by the asso-
ciations of a name, than Murrough O'Brien. There was none also
among these chiefs to whom the change was more decidedly an advan-
tage. The O'Briens of Thomond had, more than any of the other
southern chiefs, suffered a decline of consequence and power, under the
shadow of the great house of Desmond — with which they were at con-
tinual variance, and of which it had for many generations been the
family policy to weaken them by division or oppression. It is mentioned
by Lodge in his Collectanea, that it was the custom of the Desmond
lords to take part with the injured branches of the O'Briens, with a
view to weaken the tribe ; and, in the middle of the sixteenth century,
the house of Desmond was the first in Ireland for the extent of its
territories, and the influence derived from numerous and powerful
alliances.

Murrough O'Brien had obtained possession of the principality of
Thomond by a usurpation, justified by the pretence of the ancient
custom of tanistry, by which it was understood that the succession was
determined by a popular election of the most worthy. By this ancient
custom, so favourable to the strong, Murrough set aside his nephew,

266 THE O'BRIENS OF THOMOND.

whose loss, however, he compensated, by resigning1 to him the barony
of Ibrackan. The possession thus obtained by a title, which had long
been liable to be defeated by means similar to those by which it was
acquired, he prudently secured by a precaution, at this time ren-
dered effective by the policy of the English administration, and coun-
tenanced by the example of his most eminent native countrymen.

He submitted to the lord deputy, who advised him to proceed to
England. In pursuance of this advice, O'Brien repaired to England,
and made the most full renunciation of his principality, and all its
appurtenant possessions, privileges, and dignities, into the hands of the
king. He further agreed and oound himself to renounce the title of
O'Brien — to use whatever name the king should please to confer — to
adopt the English dress, language, and customs. He also engaged to
cultivate his lands — build houses, and let them to proper tenants who
might improve the land — to renounce all cess or other exaction, and
keep no armed force without the express permission of the deputy.
He further covenanted to be obedient to the king's laws, to answer to
his writs, and aid his governors according to the requisition. He was
to hold his lands by a single knight's fee. There is among the State
Papers, published in 1834, one which purports to contain an abridg-
ment of the " requests" of O'Brien and some of the other chiefs asso-
ciated with him in this transaction. The following is the part relative
to O'Brien: —

" First, he demandeth to him and to his heirs male, all such lauds,
rents, reversions, and services, as I had at any time before this day,
or any other [person] to my use, which is named part of Thomond,
with all rule and authority to govern all the king's subjects, and to
order them in defence of the said country, according to the king's
laws, and with all royalty thereto belonging ; reserving to the king's
majesty the gift of all bishopricks, and all other things to the crown
or regality appertaining.

" Where the council of Ireland hath given him certain abbeys lately
suppressed, he requireth the confirmation of that gift by the king's
majesty, to him and to his heirs male.

" Item. That the laws of England may be executed in Thomond,
and the haughty laws and customs of that country may be clearly put
away for ever.

" Item. That bastards from henceforth may inherit no lands, and
that those which at this present do inherit may enjoy the same during
their lives, and after their death to return to the right heirs lawfully
begotten.

" Item. That there may be sent into Ireland, some well learned
Irishmen, brought up in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge,
not being infected with the poison of the bishop of Rome, and to be
first approved by the king's majesty, and then to be sent to preach the
word of God in Ireland.

" Item. Some place of small value near Dublin, where he may pre-
pare for his horses and folkis, if he shall be commanded to resort to
parliament or council at Dublin."*

Such were generally the demands made by O'Brien, of which -we
* State Papers, cccxciii. vol. iii.

MUKEOUGH O'BRIEN. 267

have already mentioned the result. He was created earl of Thomond,
with remainder to his nephew Donogh O'Brien, whom he had dispos-
sessed by the law of tanistry, but who must, in the eye of English law,
have been looked on as one defrauded of his right. As, however, this
arrangement could not be quite satisfactory to Murrough, he was at
the same time created baron Inchiquin, with remainder to the heirs
of his body.

We have already given an extract descriptive of the ceremony of
the creation of those Irish earls : a more detailed description which we
have since met will not be thought superfluous by the reader who is
curious upon the subject of ancient manners: —

" First, The queen's closet at Greenwich was richly hanged with
cloth of Arras, and well strawed with rushes. And after the king's
majesty was come into his closet to hear high mass, these earls and the
baron aforesaid, [Murrough O'Brien, Donogh O'Brien, and William
de Burgh] went to the queen's closet, and thereafter saeing of high
mass put on their robes of estate, and ymediately after, the king's
majesty being under the cloth of estate, with all his noble council,
with other noble persons of his realm, as well spiritual as temporal, to
a great number, and the ambassadours of Scotland, the earl of Glen-
cairn, Sir George Douglas, Sir William Hamilton, Sir James Leyre-
monthe, and the secretary for Scotland, came in the earl of Tomonde,
led between the earle of Derby arid the earle of Ormonde, the viscount
Lisle, bearing before him his sword, the hilt upwards, Gartier before
him bearing his letters patent, and so proceeded to the king's majestic.
And Gartier delivered the said letters patentis to the lord chamberlain,
and the lord chamberlain delivered them to the great chamberlain,
and the lord great chamberlain delivered them to the king's majesty,
who took them to Mr Wriothesly, secretary, to reade them openly.
And when he came to " Cincturam gladii" the viscount Lisle presented
to the king the sword, and the king girded the said sword about the
said earl bawdrickwise, the foresaid earl kneeling, and the lords
standing that lead him. [This ceremony was repeated for the next
earl, Clanrikard.] That done, came into the king's presence the
baron [Donogh O'Brien, the nephew] in his kirtle, led between two
barons, the lord Cobham, and the lord Clinton; the lord Montjoye
bearing before him his robe, Gartier bearing before him his letters
patents in the manner aforesaid, &c., &c. [the king handing these to
Mr Paget to read out], and when he came to " Investimus" he put on
his robe. And so the patent read out, the king's majesty put about
every one of their necks a chain of gold with a crosse hanging at it,
and took then their letters patent, and they gave thanks unto him.
And then the king's majestic made five of the men that came with
them knights. And so the earls and the baron in order, took their
leave of the king's highness, and were conveyed, bearing their letters
patent in their hands to the council chamber, underneath the king's
majesty's chamber, appointed for their dining place, in order as here-
after followeth: the trumpets blowing before them, the officers of armes,
the earl of Thomond led between the earl of Derby and the viscount
Lisle, &c., &e., to the dining place. After the second course, Gartier
proclaimed their styles in manner following: —

268 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

"Du Treshault [tres haut] et puissant Seigneur Moroghe O'Brien,
Conte de Tomond, Seigneur de Insetcyne, du royaume de Irelande, &c.,
&c. The king's majestic gave them their robes of estate, and all
things belonging thereunto, and paid all manner of duties belonging to
the same."*

This earl was in the same year sworn of the privy council. He
married a daughter of Thomas Fitz-Gerald, the knight of the valley.
He died 1551, and was succeeded in the barony of Inchiquin by his
eldest son, according to the limitations of his patent, while the earldom
went, by the same provisions, to his nephew's family.

THE EAKLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

" THERE is nothing more difficult," writes Carte, " than to give an exact
account of the descent of ancient families, and to trace it up to their
original." The venerable historian of the House of Ormonde, whose
labour of love is prosecuted with exemplary diligence and high ability,
exemplifies the observation, at the outset of his inquiry, in his discussion
of the name. He advances the well-known and oft-repeated tradition,
of an origin in the ancient office of Chief Butler of Ireland, from the
date when that office was borne by Theobald Walter, for which he very
circumstantially quotes two old MS. records. But in one of these, drawn
up by the Ulster King of Arms in Ireland, he states to have been care-
fully studied by an antiquary, Mr. John Butler of Northamptonshire,
who, on its authority, affirmed Butler to be the original surname of the
family. For several reasons, which our space will not admit, we lean
to this latter inference. It is of somewhat more interest that the family
pedigree is by the elaborate inquirer traced from Richard (grandson of
Rollo) Duke of Normandy, and ancestor of William the Conqueror.
From this stock, Richard Earl of Clare was Chief Butler to the King,
from which his two sons, Robert and Richard, assumed the surname of
Boutelier — thus referring their name to an extern though similar origin.
It is not our office to reconcile the perplexities of learned genealogists,
tantas componere lites — Truth must lie between. We proceed to the
questionless facts.

The Butler family may, without derogation to any noble claim, be
reckoned at the head of the ancient peerage of the Anglo-Norman in-
vasion. Theobald Walter, the first Irish ancestor, came over with
Henry II. in 1177. His father Hervey had previously come over with
Strongbow. In this period there seems to have existed some tie of blood
between this family and that of Becket, which misled an eminent gene-
alogist respecting the descent of the Butlers. This error has been fully

* State Papers. Note to paper cccxcvL

THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE. 269

removed ; and it seems proved by many records, taken on inquisition of
property, that the descendants of Theobald kept the surname of Walter
till created Earls of Ormonde.* To this I can only add, that there is
reason to infer the promiscuous use of the names Walter and Butler by
the early descendants of the family.

Theobald had large property in both England and Ireland. He
founded the Abbey of Witheny, county of Limerick, and the Priory of
St. John, near Nenagh. He died in the year 1206. His English lands
were seized by King John. He left a son Theobald, who succeeded to his
Irish estate, 6 Henry III., when he came of age. He inherited from his
father the baronies of Upper and Lower Ormonde. He died in 1248.
His son Theobald, who succeeded, was married to the daughter of
Richard De Burgo, by whom he acquired a large addition to his estate.
He died and was buried in Arklow, and was succeeded by his son,
Theobald IV. With respect to these two latter, Carte entertains a
doubt as to their distinct personality : " taking those Theobalds whom
they distinguished as third and fourth to be but one and the same per-
son." His reasons are, at the lowest, specious. He mentions two
burials, of which he conjectures the identity, and two marriages, which
might, he thinks, be traced to the same person, with the entire omis-
sion of the death of Theobald III., not usual among the old chroniclers.
Wre do not, however, consider that we are at liberty to pass Theobald
IV. on the authority of this ingenious inference. Theobald IV. sat as
Baron in the Irish Parliament. He accompanied King Edward I. in the
Scottish war, and received from that monarch a grant of the prisage of
wines in Ireland. He died 1285, and was succeeded by his son Theo-
bald V., who died unmarried, and was succeeded by his brother Ed-
mond.

In 1302 Edmond was present in the Irish parliament, and is men-
tioned in the roll as Edmond le Botiller. He was summoned by Ed-
ward I. to attend the King in Scotland, but was prevented by disorders
in Ireland ; nevertheless his absence was resented by Edward until it
was so explained. He was, in the next year, appointed Gustos Hiberniae,
an office which he frequently held. He was created Earl of Carrick, by
Edward II., 1315. This title was, it appears, disused when James
his son was created Earl of Ormonde. This disuse, says Carte, caused
a precedence to be given to the Earl of Kildare, whose creation was
two years later (1317).

This Earl lived in very wayward times, and by his service against the
northern invaders, who frequently made descents on the kingdom,
attained great authority. He had a principal command in the memora-
ble campaign against Edward Bruce in 1315, who, after considerable
ravages in Ulster, had caused himself to be crowned King of Ireland.
The Earl collected a great force, and being joined by the Earl of Ul-
ster, with a large body of Connaught men, compelled Bruce to retire.
Unfortunately the Irish army was compelled to separate by a feud
breaking out between the Burghs and Fitzgeralds, — and the Earl of

* The name Walter is supposed to originate from the office of King's Forester —
called in Saxon "Waltgrave. — Carte.

2 70 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

Ulster, pursuing Bruce alone, was defeated. From this a great rebel-
lion of the Irish arose, encouraged by Bruce, with much devastation and
burning of castles and villages. The O'Mores, who laid waste the
Queen's County, were attacked and routed with great slaughter by the
Earl with his own people in two battles. Bruce was soon after de-
feated and slain, with 2,000 men, by Lord John Bermingharn at Dun-
dalk.

The Earl went over to England in 1320, and died there in the next
year. He had married a daughter of the first Earl of Kildare. He was
succeeded by his eldest son, James le Botiller, Earl of Carrick.

James married Eleanor, eldest daughter of Humphrey de Bohun,
Earl of Hereford and Constable of England, by a daughter of Edward
i. He was thereupon created Earl of Ormonde, and obtained a grant
of the royalties and liberties of the county of Tipperary, and palatine
rights in that county. James died 1338, and was succeeded by his
only son.

James, second Earl of Ormonde, was called the " Noble Earl," as
being great-grandson to Edward I. In 1359 he was Lord Justice of
Ireland. His son, the third Earl of Ormonde, among other local arrange-
ments, purchased the Castle of Kilkenny from the heirs of Sir Hugh le
Despencer, Earl of Gloucester, which he made his chief residence. He
had many sons. He died in 1405. His eldest son, James, fourth Earl,
was called the " White Earl ; " was reputed for learning ; was Lord
Justice in 1407 and in 1440; died 1452; and was succeeded by his
son James, fifth Earl, who, for his adherence to the Lancastrian in-
terest, was created Earl of Wiltshire by Henry VI. Was Lord Deputy
in 1451, and, succeeding his father in 1452, he was appointed Lord-
lieutenant for ten years. In 1455 he was appointed Lord High
Treasurer of England, and afterwards Knight of the Garter. At the
battle of Tawton he was taken and beheaded by the Yorkists.

JAMES, FOURTH EARL OF ORMONDE.

DIED A. D. 1451.

THE history of James, fourth Earl of Ormonde, has a close and pro-
minent connection with that of his age. He was a man of considerable
learning and ability, and was distinguished by an unusual share of
royal favour. He was ward to Thomas, Duke of Lancaster; by which
fact it is ascertained that he was yet a minor when appointed to the
government of Ireland as Lord Deputy. In this capacity he held a
parliament in Dublin, in which the statutes of Dublin and Kilkenny
were confirmed.

In 1412, he accompanied the Duke of Clarence into France, and rose
into great favour with king Henry V., who began his reign in the same
year. He seems to have remained in the English court until 14 1 9,
when king Henry sent him over as Lord-lieutenant of Ireland. Imme-

JAMES, FOURTH EARL. 271

diately on landing, he held a parliament at Waterford, which granted
the king two subsidies and seventy marks to himself. The pale was
at the time kept in a state of terror by the septs of the O'Keillys,
M'Mahons, and M'Murroughs. Ormonde marched against these and
scattered their forces ; in consideration of which services he received
the sum of five hundred marks more, from the same parliament.*

The country had been for some time plunged into great distractions,
not only from the increasing turbulence and encroachment of the sur-
rounding septs; but there had been also serious discontents raised
among the English of the pale, by a measure of the English court
which may have been necessary, but was effected with inconsiderate
violence. The poverty of the Irish, with the troubled state of the
country, had the effect of driving numbers into England in search of
a peaceable subsistence. This thronged resort brought with it many
evils, particularly that of numerous troops of idle persons, who, failing
to obtain bread by fair means, sought to live by begging and theft.
It therefore became necessary to suppress the evil by some public
measure. The parliament of England enacted a law by which this
intercourse was forbidden, and all Irish adventurers were ordered to
return home. The execution of this law was indiscriminate and insult-
ing ; students, and the children of the most respectable Irish families,
although exempted by special provisions of the statute, were insolently
driven from the inns of court. The same execrable policy was extend-
ed to Ireland; the administration became fenced round by illiberal
prepossessions against every one of Irish birth, and the pernicious dis-
tinctions engrafted in the reign of Edward III., were ripened to the
full maturity of their baneful influence in that of his great-grandson. A
petition was resolved upon, by a parliament held in Dublin, in the fourth
year of king Henry V., who had just returned from the battle of
Agincourt.'j' The Irish chancellor refused to authenticate this peti-
tion by the great seal; and by this cruel and impolitic refusal it need
not be explained how the most dangerous and violent discontents were
excited. It is probable that in this juncture the high influence of
Ormonde was used with the king, and that the monarch was thus made
sensible of the injustice of the harsh policy of the Irish government.
It is also not unlikely that the service of fifteen hundred brave men of
the pale, under the command of the warlike prior of Kilmainham,
Thomas Butler, had weight with a military monarch. Ormonde was
then sent over with full powers, to inquire into, and redress all com-
plaints. His conduct was, under these circumstances, liberal and
gracious, and was met with a thankful spirit by the Irish parliament.
Their liberal grants we have already stated. Their petition was re-
vived, sealed, and transmitted. We are not enabled to ascertain what
notice it received ; but we extract Leland's summary of its contents as
the briefest abstract we can offer of the state of the country at this
time: —

" The petition, which is still extant, contains a pathetic representa-
tion of the distresses of his subjects in Ireland, harassed on one hand

* Lodge, from MS. annals in Trin. Col., Dublin,
f Lcland, ii. 12, from Rob. Turr. Berm.

272 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

by the perpetual incursions of the Irish enemy, and on the other by the
injustice and extortion of the king's ministers. The king's personal
appearance in Ireland is most earnestly entreated, to save his people
from destruction. As the Irish, who had done homage to king Richard,
had long since taken arms against the English ; notwithstanding their
recognisances payable in the apostolic chamber, they beseech his high-
ness to lay their conduct before the pope, and to prevail on the holy
father to publish a crusade against them. The insolent opposition of
Merbury to their former petition is represented as a heinous offence,
for which they desire that he may be cited to answer before the king.
Stanely and Furnival, by name, are accused of the most iniquitous
practices, for which they pray redress and satisfaction ; and while
honourable mention is made of the conduct of Crawly, archbishop of
Dublin, as well as of their present governor — who they request may
receive the royal thanks for his generous declarations to parliament —
all the governors and officers sent from England are represented as
corrupt, rapacious, and oppressive; secreting and misapplying the re-
venue intrusted to them; defrauding the subject, and levying coynand
livery without mercy. The unreasonable exclusion of their students
from the inns of court, the insufficiency and extortion of the officers
of the exchequer, the number of absentees, and other matters of griev-
ance are fully stated. They pray that those who hold of the king in
capite, may not be exposed to the hardship of repairing to England in
order to do homage, but that the chief governor be commissioned to
receive it ; that their commerce may be defended, their coin regulated,
their churches supplied with faithful pastors, without such delays as
they had experienced from selfish and designing governors. But above
all things they urgently entreat that trusty commissioners be appointed
to inspect the conduct of the king's officers sent into Ireland; plainly
declaring that such a scene of various iniquities would be thus disco-
vered, as were utterly abhorrent to the equity- of the throne, and
utterly intolerable to the subject."

The administration of Ormonde was productive of much, though
not permanent benefit to Ireland. His vigour and activity repressed
the growing encroachment of the surrounding septs, and for a while
deferred the total decline into which the pale was rapidly sinking.
The general incapacity, ignorance, and interested conduct of the
governors — the neglect of England and the degeneracy of the English
settlers, who were become Irish in manner, custom, and affinity — con-
tributed, with the increasing power of the native chiefs, to hasten the
approaches of the melancholy period of national affliction and degrada-
tion, long approaching and now at hand. From such a state there
were occasional and transitory revivals, which were just sufficient to
indicate what was wanting to the restoration of the colony. The art-
ful and ambitious earl of Desmond, who in his need had found a friend
in the earl of Ormonde, contributed much, by his encroaching spirit,
and the haughty isolation by which he kept up an independent state,
to increase the difficulties of the time. A spirit of hostility grew up
between these two powerful nobles, which was productive of much
evil to their country, and of much trouble to Ormonde. The earl of
Desmond, availing himself of the weakness of government, resisted his

JAMES, FOURTH EARL OF ORMONDE. 273

efforts for the public good; or when occasion offered, endeavoured to
bring him into discredit by intrigue, and seems to have been his constant
opponent through the opposite changes of favour and disfavour. And
irom this appears to have arisen the chief vicissitudes of his personal
history.

Lodge mentions that he was knighted in the fourth year of Henry
VI., togetfier with the king, by the regent, John duke of Bedford.
And he adds, that this occurrence took place " before he attained his
full age ' — an affirmation which cannot be reconciled with the other
circumstances here mentioned, with their dates from the same writer,
even though we should take some liberty with these dates, to reconcile
them. According to these, his first commission as lord deputy occurs
in 1407, at which time, though still in his minority, he must at least
have arrived at man's estate. Henry VI. was born in 1421 or 1422,
when, on the lowest allowance, Ormonde must have been twenty-
four years of age; that is allowing that he was lord deputy at ten.
Adding nearly five years, we have the fourth year of Henry's reign,
when Ormonde must have been, by the same allowance, twenty-eight.
This error is rendered still more inextricable by the assertion, " after
which, returning into Ireland, he accompanied the deputy Scrope, in
his invasion of Macmurrough's territory." Now, this latter circum-
stance is placed, by Cox and Leland, in the year 1407, when he may
have certainly assisted ; but eighteen years before the period assign-
ed. We should have set down this entanglement as a typographical
error, substituting VI. for IV., as Scrope was deputy, and marched
against M'Murrough, in 1407, the seventh or eighth year of Henry IV.,
when all the particulars were 'likely to have occurred. But this con-
jecture is baffled by the addition that he received the honour from the
duke of Bedford, " the king's uncle and regent,"* who was appointed
regent during the minority of Henry VI. All this is still further
involved in difficulty by the complaint of Ormonde's enemies in 1445,
" that he was old and feeble ;" for if he is then assumed to have been
sixty-five, he would have been of full age in 1407.

We are inclined to presume that the truth must be, that he was
knighted by king Henry IV., previous to his coming over as lord
deputy. The incident is of slight importance ; we have dwelt upon
it as a good illustration of the difficulty of being accurate, and of the
perplexity often attendant on investigations, the importance of which
cannot be considered equal to the time and labour lost in their prose-
cution.

At the death of Henry V., Ormonde was lord lieutenant of Ireland.
He was continued but for a short time after the accession of Henry
VI. The minority of this monarch, then but nine months old, led the
English government, among other precautions against the danger of
the existing claims of the house of York, to remove the heir of that
family out of view, by sending him to Ireland. In pursuance of this
policy, Edmund, earl of Marche, was sent, in 1422, as lord lieutenant;
but his government was quickly terminated by his death. He died of
the plague,f in his own castle of Trim, and was succeeded by lord

* Lodtre.

f Cox. Ware notices this as the Jourth pestilence in Ireland.— Annals.
i. s Ir.

274 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

Talhot, in 1425. But in the following year, he was superseded by
Ormonde, who, in his turn made way for Sir John de Gray, who was
succeeded by lord Dudley, Sir Thomas Stanley, Sir Christopher
Plunkett, and others, with their deputies in rapid succession; during
which, his own name occurs in its turn, at short intervals, until 1443,
when he comes again more prominently on the scene.

At this time he was sent over with the privilege of absenting him-
self "for many years, without incurring the penalty of the statute of
3 Rich. II."* against absentees. It was at this time that he entered
into strict alliance with the earl of Desmond, and contributed to raise
him to a height of power, wealth, and influence, which were afterwards,
with a fatal efficiency, directed against himself. Desmond, it appears,
won his favour by joining him against the Talbots, then fast rising
into authority. The vast grants and privileges thus conceded to
Desmond, may be seen in our notice of that nobleman.

The vigour of Ormonde's administration, and his uniform adherence
to the princes who, during this period, sat upon the throne, had raised
many enemies against him. With this, he seems to have exercised
his privileges with high and decisive energy, and perhaps too frequent-
ly to have allowed his measures to be governed by feuds and private
friendships. This lax policy is, however, in some degree to be justi-
fied by the notions and practice of his age. By degrees a combination
was formed against him, and representations, which we should not
undertake to reject, were made to the English court, complaining of
his being incompetent from age — of his partial appointments — his in-
dulgence to the nobles, whose parliamentary attendance he dispensed
with for money — and lastly, for the wrongful imprisonment of subjects,
for the sake of their ransom.']' On these grounds they petitioned for
his removal. This complaint of a powerful party, led on by the per-
fidious Desmond, who. had been exalted above the condition of a sub-
ject by his friendship, gave serious alarm to the earl of Ormonde. He
called a meeting of the nobility and gentry at Drogheda, to whom
he made an appeal which was answered by a strong testimony to the
uprightness and efficiency of his administration. We do not enter
into its details for the same reason that we have passed lightly over
the details of the complaint. They may both be regarded as the
natural language of party spirit in all times ; mostly having on each
side strong grounds in truth, well mixed with misrepresentations often
undesigned, often the contrary. The most satisfactory test of the truth
of either charge or defence, must be drawn from the state of public
affairs; so far as they may be assumed liable to be affected by the
conduct of the public functionary. In the absence of this criterion,
the rank and respectability of the parties affords the best general
ground of conjecture. Adopting such a criterion, we should incline
towards a favourable judgment of this eminent nobleman.

The representations of his enemies had elicited, from the English
court, an order for his attendance to answer for his alleged miscon-
duct. His bold and frank appeal, with the declaration of a large
body of the most reputable of the Irish nobles and ecclesiastics, caused

* Cox. Ik

JAMES, FOURTH EAEL OF ORMONDE. 275

a suspension of this order. But the earl of Ormonde, with a magnani-
mous disregard of the secret and base underworking of a low faction,
took no further care to guard against the designs of his enemies ; — the
faction went on, and gathered influence and weight. The same
charges continued to be repeated, without meeting any answer; and
the factious workings of those who made them, increased into a state
of popular turbulence, which it was impossible for one so involved as
the earl of Ormonde to resist. His recall, therefore, became a matter
of expediency not to be averted.

He was, accordingly, recalled, and lord Talbot sent over with seven
hundred men. His arrival was greeted with clamour and insurrection.
The English barons were leagued with the Irish chiefs in opposition
to his government, thus affording, if it were necessary, the best vindi-
cation of the innocence and integrity of Ormonde's administration.
Talbot commenced with vigour and efficiency, and quickly repressed or
reduced the factious barons and rebellious chiefs — seizing on many,
and putting some, especially of the Berminghams, to death.

His government was not, however, conducted on the most judicious
or salutary principles. He kept the peace thus restored, by throwing
himself into the hands of the popular faction, by which the earl of
Ormonde had been persecuted; a faction which, more than any other
cause in its own time, tended to precipitate the ruin of Ireland — the
main disorders and sufferings of which, then, as well as before and
since, have been mainly the result of a factious resistance to the oper-
ation of those principles on which civil order and national prosperity
depend. If we admit that much evil has also arisen from causes of an
opposite nature, we must at the same time insist, that such causes were
the necessary result of those to which we have adverted. One extreme
is resisted by another. There is mostly no other available resource.

At his return to England, Talbot had so far adopted the passions
or prejudices of the party with which he acted, that he accused Or-
monde of treason. The accusation was re-echoed with virulent ani-
mosity. The archbishop of Dublin seconded the representations of
his brother, with a treatise on the maladministration of Ormonde.
The prior of Kilmainham added his voice, and challenged him to the
combat. But Ormonde's character was unaffected by this clamour of
malignity and envy : the clamour of faction had little weight against
him, beyond the sphere of its own sound and fury. The king of England
interposed, and for the time rescued the earl from an unworthy perse-
cution: to this, historians attribute the attachment of the family of
Butler to the Lancastrian race.

The great and celebrated dissensions between the houses of York
and Lancaster were, at this time, in their beginning. They had been
long anticipated in their causes by the fears and the wisdom of all
who were capable of political observation. Their effect on Ireland
was considerable and pernicious, and they occupy the attention of our
historians, as fully as that of the writers of English history. They
are, however, too well understood and known, to require that we
should here enter into any detail ; it will be enough to mark, as we
pass along, the influence of the political occurrences of England on
the state of Ireland. The same apprehensions which occasioned the

276

THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

commission of the earl of Marche were still in force, but with added
weight and justice. The feeble monarch who sat upon the British
throne was surrounded with much increased difficulties and dangers ;
there was no vigour in his character or government to repress the
animosity and ambitious restlessness of contested claims to the succes-
sion. The eagerness of party was already anticipating the vacancy
of the throne; and intrigue was busy in spreading disaffection and
complaint. The rights of the earl of Marche had devolved upon his
cousin Richard, whose abilities made him formidable, while his worth
and amiability made him the object of general regard. He had
been sent to succeed the duke of Bedford in the government of
France, where he had gained credit by the prudence and efficiency of
his administration of affairs. His return to England was hailed by
the wishes of his friends, and the fears of the rival house; and the
contest, so soon to stain the country with its best blood, was loudly
and openly carried on by clamour and intrigue.

The complaints of Ireland suggested the prudent measure of send-
ing him over as governor. The measure had specious advantages
according with the views of either side. It was an apparent advan-
tage to the Lancastrian party, to occupy his ambition, and deprive his
party of their head. But the appointment was accompanied with
powers which, if dexterously used, might become dangerous. A con-
siderable revenue, the power of raising a military force on full
authority, sufficient pretext, and beyond the reach of immediate ob-
servation, were the amount of this prince's stipulations ; to which was
added the privilege of naming a deputy, and returning at pleasure.*

His first reception was doubtful, but the weight of his pretensions,
and the splendour of his appointments, quickly turned the feather
scale of public feeling in his favour. The advances of every party he
received with frank and conciliatory affability, and ready kindness of
manner. His Irish dependents crowded round him from his ample
estates in Meath; and the Irish chiefs were agreeably surprised and
.captivated by attentions which they were unaccustomed to meet.
He studied to receive and address them in accordance with their
notions of their own rank and importance ; and all parties were soon
united in zeal and affection for his person. His deportment to the lords
was also governed by a politic impartiality. Ormonde, who was known
to be the political adherent of the house of Lancaster, was treated
with kindness ; and Desmond, whose overgrown power was maintained
by a barbarous independence, yielded to the attractions of his manner
and address. He had a son born in Dublin, afterwards the unfor-
tunate George, duke of Clarence, to whom these rival barons were
invited to stand sponsors, an honour correctly appreciated by the courtly
experience of Ormonde, but which excited the pride of the ruder Des-
mond, whose inexperience attached to the selection a high dignity and
notions of exalted trust and honour. Historians seem to imply, that
the effect of this excitement led to increased insolence and oppression in
the south. Cox, whose chronology is a little confused on the point,
mentions a petition from the inhabitants of Cork, complaining of

* Cox.

JAMES, FOURTH EAEL OF ORMONDE. 277

grievances, which he attributes mainly to the tyranny of Desmond.
He gives this petition at length,* observing, that historians assign a
later period, but infers from its direction to the earls of Rutland and
Cork, that it must have been at the present. The petitioners complain
of the absence of the great proprietors, of the mischiefs accruing from
their private wars, and of the want of protection from the robberies of
the surrounding natives. They entreat for inquiry — for leaders — and
offer to rise against their enemies, if properly countenanced and assist-
ed. Cox connects this petition with certain laws enacted in the first
parliament held by the earl, of which he specifies the provisions ; but
we cannot perceive the application, as, however usefully conceived,
they are quite inadequate, and without any specific direction to the
causes of complaint.')' One provision is mentioned, the general oper-
ation of which might go to remedy the evil: by this the land was
charged with the furnishing and maintenance of its proportion of mili-
tary force for the defence of the pale. A clause, also, forbidding the
maintenance of retainers to an extent that required to be supported
by exaction, must also, in its operation, have materially contributed to
lessen the evil.;);

One occurrence in this parliament is more strictly within the scope
of this notice. Notwithstanding the absence of all present factious
motives in his favour, by which an interested display of respect might
be elicited in favour of Ormonde, an address of thanks was voted
to the king for having supported him against the injustice and malice
of his enemies. The current of party was, at the moment, running
high in the opposite direction, and we cannot help regarding this in-
cident as an extraordinary tribute to the worth and uprightness of
Ormonde.

A still more remarkable proof of this respect occurred shortly after.
The intrigues of the duke's faction in England appear to have hit
upon a curious expedient, not altogether singular, however, in its
nature, to test the state of public feeling, and rally the efforts of his
friends. An Irishman named Cade, was induced to assume the name
of Mortimer, and set up pretensions to the crown. Suspicion fell on
the duke of York, and thus afforded him a fair pretext for appearing
in person on the scene. He left Ormonde deputy, thus either mani-
festing his confidence, or paying an honourable deference to the public
weight of his character. This selection was shortly after confirmed
by the title of lord lieutenant, by the king's appointment. Ormonde's
presence in England became necessary, and he appointed John Mey,
the archbishop of Armagh, as his deputy,§ in the year 1451.

In the following year, he may be obscurely traced among the petty
wars of this island. His death took place on his return from an ex-
pedition against an obscure chief of the name of O'Mulrian. He was
buried in St Mary's abbey, near Dublin.])

He was remarkable for his attainments, and the knightly polish of
his manners. He cultivated history, more especially in that peculiar
department connected with antiquities. He endowed the college of
Heralds with lands, and was prayed for at their meetings, until the

* Cox, 162. f H>. t Leland. Cox. Davis. § Cox. Leland. || Lodge.

278 THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

reformation. By his first wife, who was daughter to Gerald, the
fifth earl of Kildare, he left three sons, who were in succession earls
of Ormonde.

JAMES, FIFTH EAKL OF ORMONDE.

BORN A. D. 1420 — BEHEADED A. D. 1461.

THIS nobleman succeeded in 1451 to his father's title, estates, and
political connexions. In 1449 he was created earl of Wiltshire. In
1450 he was one of the commissioners for the custody of Calais. In
1453 he was appointed lord lieutenant of Ireland for ten years. He
seems to have been very distinguished for his activity, and by the con-
fidence of the king. He was joined with the earl of Salisbury and
other noblemen to guard the seas, receiving the tonnage and poundage
to defray their expense. In 1455 he was appointed lord high trea-
surer of England. He was present at the battle of St. Albans, anil
when the Yorkists gained the day, escaped by divesting himself of his
armour; but king Henry recovering his authority, he was reinstated
in office. He was, in 1456, made keeper of the royal forest of Pederton,
in Somersetshire; and of Cranbourn chase in Wilts and Dorset. He
fitted out five ships againt the earl of Warwick. At the battle of
Wakefield, in December, 1460, when the Duke of York was slain, this
earl of Ormonde commanded one wing of the royal army. In the
next year, however, he was taken in a bloody battle fought at Towton,
in Yorkshire, and, with many others of the English nobility, beheaded
by order of Edward IV.

His brother John, who was also at the same battle, was attainted,
and the titles in his family would have been extinguished, but he was
restored in blood by Edward IV., and succeeded as 6th Earl of Or-
monde. The king used to say of him that he was the goodliest knight
he ever beheld, and the finest gentleman in Christendom, and that if
good breeding, &c., were lost in the world, they might all be found in
this Earl of Ormonde. He was master of all European languages, and
was sent ambassador to all the courts in Europe. He died in Palestine,
1478, unmarried.

He was succeeded by his brother Thomas. He had bee?) attainted
with his brothers under the name of Thomas Ormonde, alias Butler,
knight. The case came before the judges, and went in his favour, as he
was not a knight. The attainder was reversed in parliament, 1st
Hen. VII., and the Earl took possession of all his estates. After his
brother James's death " he found " (says Carte) " £40,000 sterling in
money in his house at the Black Friars, in London, all which he carried
over with him into Ireland." He is mentioned as one of the richest
subjects in the king's dominions. He enjoyed the usual offices of his
predecessors, and died 1515. He left two daughters, of whom one
married Sir William Butler, which led in the next generation to a tem-
porary surrender of the title of Ormonde in favour of Sir Thomas
Buleyu, at the desire of Henry VIII.

SIR JAMES ORMONDE.

279

SIR JAMES ORMONDE.

DIED A. D. 1518.

SIR JAMES ORMONDE was the illegitimate son of John, sixth earl of
Ormonde. As Thomas, the seventh earl, chiefly resided in England,
Sir James, who was evidently a person of a very ambitious and enter-
prising temper, was at the head of the Butler faction in Ireland. His
name frequently appears among the most prominent of the turbulent
chiefs of his time. He was among the most violent and dangerous as
indeed the most powerful of the enemies of the last noticed earl of Kil-
dare. He was left under the protection of Thomas, the seventh earl,
his father's brother, who succeeded to the earldom in 1478. He was
brought up at the English court by his uncle, and grew into great favour
with the king. He seems to have been intrusted with the management
of the earl of Ormonde's party in Ireland, where he was soon appointed
by the king to offices of trust and authority. In 1498 he is often
mentioned as lord treasurer of Ireland. His persevering enmity against
the earl of Kildare was shown both by numerous attacks on his friends,
and also by accusations and intrigues at the English court. We have
already adverted to his meeting in Dublin with the earl for the purpose
of explanation : it may be mentioned here more fully, as the best marked
incident of Ormonde's history, and as very characteristic of the civiliza-
tion of the time in which it occurred.

The power of the earl of Kildare had reached a height which im-
posed on the boldest of his enemies a necessity of conciliation. Sir
James Ormonde complained to the earl by letter or messenger, of
the calumnies which had been spread to his prejudice, by which he
was falsely represented as an enemy to the king's government, and
desired a fair hearing that he might justify himself; to this the lord
deputy consented, and Sir James entered Dublin at the head of a
large body of armed men, and encamped in an abbey in the suburbs,
named St Thomas' court. There was at the time a strong prepossession
against Sir James, as an exacting and oppressive leader, and his appear-
ance at the head of such a force raised a considerable ferment among
the citizens, who feared some treacherous intent and meditated resist-
ance. While this disposition was spreading and acquiring heat, Sir
James was carrying on a communication with the lord deputy, to pre-
vail upon him to consent to the meeting he had proposed. As his
promises were fair, and the proposals specious at least, Kildare con-
sented, and a meeting in Patrick's church was fixed.

They met according to this appointment within the cathedral, while
their retainers stood without. During their conference, which is said to
have been quickly imbittered by mutual reproaches, angry words were
exchanged between their parties who stood outside. From words the
quarrel grew to blows. In their fury, the soldiers of Kildare conceived
the notion that this factious tumult in which they were involved, was
a scheme of Sir James Ormonde, either to murder the earl, or to seize
on the city. Under this, or some such impression, a body of archers

280

THE EARLY BUTLERS OF ORMONDE.

forced their way into the church. Their sudden rush threw Sir James
into a violent alarm; he imagined that it was a preconcerted scheme
to assassinate him, and ran to the chapter house, into which he entered
and secured the door. For a few minutes the confusion must have
been very great: the fury of the archers appears in the description
of the annalist : " The citizens in their rage imagining that every post
in the church had been one of the soldiers, shot hab nab, at random,
up to the rood loft, and to the chancel, leaving some of their arrows
sticking in the images."* Kildare, whose intentions were free from
any deceit, felt that his honour was at stake, and instantly rebuked his
people: following Sir James to the chapter house door, he assured
him that no harm should happen him. Ormonde desired his hand
upon the promise, and a hole was made in the door for the purpose.
But when this was done, Ormonde was struck by a suspicion that
it was designed to make him stretch out his hand through the door,
and then strike it off, and refused to run this risk. The lord deputy
ended the doubt by putting in his own hand: on this Sir James un-
barred the door, and they embraced one another in sight of the angry
crowd. Thus this strange alarm was quieted; and Sir James, suppress-
ing as he might his excited animosity, they became seemingly reconciled ;
but, probably, parted greater enemies than ever.

The effect of this incident is said to have endured even beyond
the lives of the two persons between whom it occurred, and created a
sense of dislike which was long kept up in their posterity.

On the death of the earl of Ormonde, Sir James contrived to take
possession of his estates, which, by his great influence and authority
with the whole Butler faction, he was in these lawless times enabled
to maintain against Sir Pierce Butler, the rightful claimant. It docs
not appear that Sir Pierce had entered into any immediate course for
the recovery of his rights thus usurped. He is mentioned in the
peerage as being the direct descendant from Richard, the youngest
son of James, third earl of Ormonde.f So remote a degree, though it
cannot lessen a right, the creation of positive law, has certainly the
effect of lessening the sense of it.

Such is ever the effect of lapse of time, or of any deviation from
customary order, because men judge by habit rather than by computa-
tion. But at that period, the sense of legal rights was scarcely superior
to the claim of usurpation maintained by force; which was still made
specious by a confused notion of the rights of conquest. It was the
unhappy consequence of this undefined state of personal rights, that
usurpation brought with it murder and private war as the resources
of justice. Pierce Butler, reduced to great distress by poverty,
was also in personal danger, and obliged with his wife to take refuge
in the woods. Stanihurst mentions, that so great was their want,
that his wife, a daughter of the great earl of Kildare, being ad-
vanced in her pregnancy, was reduced to complain of the poorness of
her diet, and to say that she was no longer in a condition to live on
milk, and entreated her husband that he would procure some wine.
To this Sir Pierce answered, that she should " have wine enough

« Cox.

t Lodge, Archdall.

RICHARD, EARL MARSHALL. 281

within twenty-four hours, or feed alone on milk." On which, taking
his page with him, he went forth to lie in ambush for the usurper of
his rights.

The following day as Sir James Ormonde was on his way between
Dunmore and Kilkenny, with six horsemen, he was suddenly assailed
by Sir Pierce, who rushed upon him from his lurking place, and before
he could receive any aid from his followers, ran him through with a
spear. This occurrence probably took place in August, 1518. In
Ware's Annals it is by some unaccountable error placed in 1497: but
as the reader may recollect, the seventh earl of Ormonde lived till
1515. It is indeed highly probable, that the error was committed
by his son, by whom the Annals were arranged from his father's
papers.

Sir James Ormonde was known as a person of great ambition,
craft, and courage ; an excellent soldier, and famed for the use of
" his weapon." His favour with the king was in a great measure
owing to his valour and activity against Simnel. By his murder, Sir
Pierce recovered his rights, and became eighth earl of Ormonde.

RICHARD, EARL MARSHALL.

DIED A. D. 1234.

In 1219, William Marshall, earl of Pembroke, and lord protector of
England, died; and with him expired the hope and promise of the
feeble Henry's reign. His authority was divided between Hubert de
Burgh and Peter de Roches bishop of Winchester, whose power and
influence were afterwards fatal to his unfortunate and spirited son,
whose fortunes we are about to relate. The lord protector had ex-
tensive estates in Ireland, and, consequently, took a very active interest
in its concerns. His character was highly respected by the chiefs, as
well as by the English settlers; and he used the influence and
authority which he thus possessed, to preserve the peace of the country,
and keep an even balance between the parties, whom opposite objects
and interests had excited to mutual suspicions and aggressions.

On his death he was succeeded by his eldest son William, in whose
short career began that fatal working of cupidity and bitterness, which
terminated in the tragic death of his brother and successor. De Lacy,
unsubdued by adversity, saw in the earl's death an opportunity to re-
gain a considerable tract of possession, to which he considered himself
to have a claim. At that period the court of equity, for the adjust-
ment of such claims, was the field of battle. The young earl Marshall
came over for the defence of his property ; and the flame of civil
war was thus kindled between these two rival chiefs. The strife was
of considerable duration and varied fortune, while its main result was
the suffering of the people through the large and populous districts of
Meath and Leinster, as each chief carried devastation into his rival's

282

RICHARD, EARL MARSHALL.

boundaries. Neither party gained any decided advantage ; and the
contention ended in a suspension of hostilities, of which both were tired.

William died in 1231, and was succeeded by his brother Richard.
He was a person of a stern and uncompromising virtue : he was on this
account feared by the king, and still more by his ministers.

In the mean time, Peter de Roches, bishop of Winchester, who had
been obliged to fly the kingdom under the ascendancy of his rival,
Hubert de Burgh, had, on the retirement of this powerful baron, again
returned and succeeded to his power and unpopularity. Hubert had
been stern and tyrannical, but there was in his character a lofty and
uncompromising fidelity to the sense of a trust ; and he was rigorous
• in guarding, at all hazards, the power and prerogative of a feeble king
against the encroachments of the fierce and turbulent baronage. De
Roches possessed the stern, exacting, and arbitrary spirit, without the
virtue of De Burgh. He encouraged the king's disposition to oppress
his barons, and place his entire confidence in foreigners, until at last
the affections of the aristocracy became alienated, and opposition to
the claims and even the rights of the throne grew into a predominant
disposition which involved the king in endless contention. It was in
this state of things that Richard Marshall succeeded to the possessions
of his brother William. De Roches and his master were justly
alarmed at such an accession to the discontented baronage. The
masculine virtues, the vigour, sagacity, and unflinching firmness of
Richard were known, and they resolved to prevent his taking posses-
sion of his estates. They failed; and as a next resource, he was
charged with a treasonable correspondence with France, and, on pain
of perpetual imprisonment, commanded to leave the realm within fif-
teen days.

Richard complied ; but his course was bent into Ireland, where his
pretensions were still higher and bis power and possessions greater
than in England. The descendant of Strongbow and the native prin-
cess of Leinster found numerous friends in the national feeling of the
Irish; and he was quickly enabled to return to England and seize on
his paternal castle of Pembroke by force. The timid monarch and
his imbecile government gave way, and conceded the investiture of his
title and estates. The matter might have rested here. But their
fears of earl Richard were not without foundation. The feebleness
of the king, and the oppressive government of his insolent favourites,
provoked the opposition of the barons ; and Richard, whose bold and
haughty spirit placed him at the head of the remonstrants, was, ere
long, by their defection, left to support alone a dangerous contest
against the power of the crown. In this position, there was no alter-
native between submission or recourse to arms ; the first would be
certain and ignominious death, but it was the spirit, not the fears, of
earl Richard which chose the bolder course. He retreated into Wales,
and there finding allies, he declared his purpose of maintaining his
castles and estates by arms. A struggle ensued, in which the king's
party met with continued disgrace from repeated failures and defeats.
The cause was popular, for it was in fact the cause of his peers ; and
Richard conciliated respect by his conduct and forbearance. He
affected to respect the king's person, and treated his English adver-

RICHARD, EARL MARSHALL. 283

saries with lenity, while he denied quarter to the foreign soldiers who
were employed against him. Wise and moderate men saw the pro-
gress of this contention with regret and apprehension, and strongly
urged the prudence of a just and conciliatory compromise ; but the
imperious and violent De Roches was deaf to the remonstrances of
prudence. He was not, however, deserted by the cunning which will
sometimes effect by crime what wisdom pursues by fair and honest
means. A royal bribe diffused treachery through the Irish baronage,
and a well-concerted scheme brought the intended victim within their
power.

A suspension of arms was contrived in Wales, and earl Richard
was secretly apprized of a conspiracy to seize upon his Irish lands.
Alarmed by the report, he availed himself of the truce to embark
for Ireland with fifteen attendants. In the mean time, letters were
sent to the principal Irish barons, which — in addition to some state-
ments which gave a colour of right to the plot — suggested the
course to be pursued, and offered the territories of the earl as the
price of co-operation. Earl Richard arrived. He was waited upon
by De Marisco, who, with well-feigned commiseration for his wrongs,
urged upon him a bold course of open hostility against the king in
Ireland, where he might hope to carry success to the height of his
utmost ambition. The Irish barons had been directed to secure the
person of earl Richard ; but this they could have little hope of effect-
ing without a protracted struggle of which the decision might be
taken from their hands by either a compromise or the interference of
an English force. To involve him in a perfidious alliance afforded a
safer and surer prospect of securing the spoil of their victim, by some
well-timed treachery. Such was the design according to which De
Marisco urged him on into a course in which his success or failure
might equally be the means of his ruin. The earl accordingly entered
with vigour and success on a course of military operations. He seized
on several of his own castles, and took possession of Limerick, after a
siege which lasted four days; he subsequently seized several castles both
of the king's and such barons as were not in the scheme, or whose part
was opposition. Of these the enmity was as affected and insincere as
the friendship : all were but acting their parts. De Burgo, the Lacies,
and other hostile lords, fled before his approach with pretended fear.
He was thus infatuated by the notion of an imaginary strength, and
gradually deceived into a rash confidence, which brought him into the
toils of his enemies.

The hostile barons desired a truce, and promised that if they were
not succoured by the king before a certain time to be settled in con-
ference, they should corfsider themselves free from the unwilling
necessity of maintaining hostilities, and would willingly and peaceably
relinquish the island to the earl. The earl's ambition was fired by
this proposal, and he at once agreed to meet them; but De Marisco
insidiously represented that they might only desire to gain time, and
advised him to refuse the truce.

In compliance with their desire, earl Richard met the barons on
the plain of Kildare ; and, according to this advice of De Marisco,
sternly refused to allow of any cessation of arms. The barons were

284 RICHARD, EARL MARSHALL.

prepared for this reply: earl Richard was astonished by the fierce
declaration, that arms should then decide their differences on the spot.
He had now no alternative, and prepared for this unexpected trial with
his native spirit and firmness ; but, when all seemed ready for the onset,
his fatal adviser and perfidious ally, De Marisco, rode up to him, and,
with the utmost composure of countenance and tone, advised a surrender,
and declined taking any part, saying that it was impossible for him to
engage against his kinsman, De Lacy; and, having uttered this cruel
speech, he instantly marched away, with eighty followers whom he had
prepared for his purpose, leaving the unfortunate earl with fifteen, to
defend his life against an hundred and forty chosen men. Nothing
now remained for the ill-starred but high-spirited victim of this sin-
gularly contrived course of deceitful tactics, but to meet his fate in
the spirit of the romantic law of chivalry, which made it disgraceful
to turn his back on an armed enemy. With resolute composure he
turned to his younger brother, who had attended him to the field, and,
taking a solemn but affectionate leave, entreated him to retire from
a scene to which his tender age was not yet inured. There was no
long time for preparation: the barons themselves were held back by
a sense of the shameful character of the exploit in which they were
engaged; but their followers rushed on against the small party, who,
standing firmly, awaited the shock with the resolution of men prepared
to die. It was soon perceptible that, although the resistance they
met compelled them to strike at many, their efforts were solely aimed
against the person of Richard. He fought long and stoutly, and, with
the help of his faithful attendants, brought many to the ground; but
all human power was vain against such overwhelming odds. His
little array was broken through; he was surrounded, unhorsed, and
struck at on every side ; and at last, while defending himself with that
brave composure which so long made him a match for many, he re-
reived a dagger in the back, where he was undefended by his armour,
and instantly fell to the ground. The object of his enemies was
gained. They raised their victim in a fainting state, and tenderly
conveyed him, yet alive but mortally wounded, to a castle of his own,
then in the hands of Maurice Fitz-Gerald; there, according to their
expectation, he expired in a few days. His death, when the manner
and circumstances of it were known, excited in England resentment
and consternation. In addition to the base and cowardly scheme by
which he was betrayed, a rumour went about that his recovery was
prevented by bribing the surgeon who attended him. This atrocity
is but too consistent with the previous facts, to be rejected on the
score of improbability. An Irish agent, who had the indiscreet vanity
to confess that he had a principal part in the earl's death, was assassi-
nated. The combined clamour of the people and discontent of the En-
glish peerage, alarmed the king. With mean and cowardly hypocrisy he
teigned the deepest sorrow for earl Richard ; lamented the inestimable
loss of so hopeful a subject, with much insincere and unavailing praise
of his great worth; and ordered his chaplains to perform a solemn
mass for the repose of his soul. The penetration of the nobles was
not baffled by these insincere demonstrations. The shock of this base
murder ran through every rank, and excited general horror and aver-

THE FITZGERALDS. 285

Bion against its known contriver. It was not allowed to subside bv
any prudent abstinence from tyrannical aggressions on the lives and
properties of the barons. The cloud of their discontent concentrated,
and became perceptibly loaded with danger; so that, when the arch-
bishop of Canterbury took up the grievances of the barons, it was felt
and understood to be an expression of the national feeling. This
brave and patriotic churchman threatened excommunication as the
penalty, if the king should delay to dismiss De Roches and all his
foreign creatures ; and the king, compelled to yield, for a time suffered
the country to be governed according to law.

In Ireland, the indignation of all but those immediately concerned
in the crime was not less. The descendant of MacMurrogh was re-
garded as the sovereign of Leinster. The citizens of Dublin made
themselves heard in the English court, and Henry was fain to silence
their clamours by a letter expressive of the most liberal good inten-
tions. In the mean time, the conspiring lords hastened to profit by
their crime, and divide the spoils of the murdered earl. His brother,
Gilbert, had pursued the same course of opposition to Henry ; who
was already re-entering on the same oppressive and unpopular habits :
his marriage with the daughter of the Scottish king had excited his
vanity, but he wanted the qualities which made earl Richard formida-
ble, and quickly found himself obliged to sue for the king's pardon
and favour. By powerful intercession he succeeded, and was allowed
to take possession of his estates. Maurice Fitz-Gerald was influenced
by his fears to clear himself by a solemn oath of having had any part
in the murder of the earl ; and proposed to show his sincerity by found-
ing a monastery to maintain continual masses for the good of his soul.

THE FITZGERALDS.

THE Geraldine race has, from the Conquest, occupied a larger space
in the records of the kingdom than any other of its most distinguished
names, for good or ill, for adverse or prosperous fortune. In the course
of descent, it was divided into two powerful and richly endowed
branches, widely different in fate, and in the courses which determined
their eventful career. The one, by its territorial position, connected
with the more civilized customs, institutions, and government of the
Pale, still preserving in the main, or with not more than the ordinary
deviations of the Irish Baronage, the course of civil order and subor-
dination — passed finally through many trials and reverses to its
existing calm elevation at the head of the Irish aristocracy. The
kindred branch of Desmond, planted far in the savage soil of Munster
— as Munster then was — adopting the rude manners, the ancient lan-
guage, and barbarian laws and usages of the old despotic chiefs among
whom they lived; were finally led by many steps through their seven-
teen turbulent generations, to the hapless fate of those whose disorders

-SO THE F1TZGERALDS.

and turbulent factions they are said to have surpassed ; ' Hibernis ipsis
hiberniores/

Through the long period thus marked out, we must necessarily leave to
the diligence of the genealogist the enumeration of personal steps, fur-
ther than our professed purpose imposes. Our concern is wholly with those
who, for whatever claim of act or suffering, have obtained a place in our
history — an illustrious, a tragic, or even a notorious name. Many
names, it may be truly said, which spread terror or kindled vulgar dis-
affection in their day, now sleep in the silence of history; it would be
idle to recall them, their echoes are at no time quite dead.

MAURICE FITZGERALD.

BORN A.D. 1195 DIED A.D. 1257.

THIS eminent person was the grandson of the first leader of the
same name, of whom we have already presented the reader with a
sketch. His father, Gerald, was styled baron Ophaly; and, as he
is said to have died in 1205, and Maurice was put in possession of his
honours and estates in 1216, it is to be presumed that it was on the
occasion of his coming of age. In 1229, on the disgrace of Hubert
de Burgo, Maurice was appointed lord justice of Ireland, in the room
of Richard de Burgo. The principal public incidents of his adminis-
tration at this' time, were the contests between Feidlim O'Conor and
De Burgo, and the hapless and shameful death of earl Marshall.
These we have already related.

This last-mentioned event excited great indignation in Ireland, and
threw much imputation on his government. Gilbert, the brother and
successor of the murdered earl, for a little time incurred the anger of
Henry III. He had married the daughter of Alexander, king of Scot-
land ; and, possessing his unfortunate brother's pride and spirit, without
his ability, he was quickly led into a course of opposition which ended
in his disgrace. Pie was, however, restored to favour by the mediation
of the king's brother. Maurice Fitz-Gerald on this, thought it pru-
dent to seek a reconciliation with him, and passed over to England to
obtain the royal influence for his purpose. He there exculpated him-
self before Henry and his court, by a solemn oath, that he had no part
in the death of Richard, earl Marshall ; and proposed, for the sake of
amity and peace between the families, to found a monastery, with
monks to offer up continual masses for the soul of the murdered earl.
It was also on this occasion that Feidlim O'Conor came over in person
to look for redress at the English court, against his enemy, Richard
de Burgo.

The account of sudden commotions in Ireland hastened the return
of Maurice ; on his approach they subsided into a calm.

In the following year, 1244, king Henry had levied a powerful
army to make war on Alexander, king of Scotland ; but the cause of
quarrel being removed, he was advised to seize the opportunity to re-

MAURICE FITZGERALD. 287

duce the Welsh to obedience. On this occasion the king sent to
Maurice, to attend him with such aid as he could bring from Ireland.
The delay was considerable enough to give the king some discontent,
which he seems to have treasured up for a future occasion. Maurice led
over his forces, accompanied by Feidlim O'Conor. Passing the island
of Anglesey, they landed and laid waste a part of the island; but,
while they were moving off with the spoil to their ships, the inhabi-
tants collected and came on them by surprise. They had no force
equal to the emergency, and were obliged to drop their burthens and
make the best escape they could.* They then made the best of their
way to the king, and remained with him until he had reduced the
Welsh and strengthened his garrisons in that country; after which
Maurice returned into Ireland. On his return he found the country
in a state of insurrection. The deaths of Hugh de Lacy and Richard
de Burgo, with the absence of the lord justice, seemed to afford an
occasion for gaining some advantage to O'Donel, who overran Ulster
and committed great waste. Maurice marched against him ; and, with
the aid of Feidlim O'Conor,f easily reduced O'Donel and restored
peace to that district. He also forced O'Neale to give hostages, whom
he} secured in his castle of Slig'o. Other important services are
mentioned by historians.

But Henry had been dissatisfied at the tardy succour which he had
received in his Welsh campaign ; or, as is far more likely, some turn
of court intrigue operating to the prejudice of the absent — Maurice
was superseded, in 1245, by Sir John Fitz-Geoffrey, son of Geoffrey
de Montmorres. This change revived the turbulent designs of the
Ulster chief, and Sir John was speedily involved in hostilities which
occupied his entire administration. It was only by the dissensions of
these restless chiefs that he was enabled to subdue this obstinate top-
arch ; the jealousies and enmities of the neighbouring chiefs afforded
willing aid against a powerful and perhaps oppressive neighbour.

Maurice died on the 20th May, 1257, in the habit of St Francis,
and was buried at Youghal, in a friary of his own foundation.§ Lodge
mentions that this friary was built in consequence of a very slight in-
cident. " Being about to build a castle in the town, and the work-
men who were digging the foundation, on the eve of some festival,
requesting a piece of money to drink his health, he directed his eldest
son to give it, who, instead of obeying, abused the workmen ; at which
he was so concerned that he altered his design, and changed the castle
into a friary, taking upon himself the habit of the prder."||

With Gerald, the grandson of this eminent warrior, (who, it is said,
was drowned in passing to England during the chief-justiceship of Sir
Robert de Ufford,) the elder line of Ophaly failed, and the barony
passed, as appears by an inquisition in the reign of Edward III., by his
bequest, while yet a minor, and during his father's life, to John Fitz-
Thomas, descended from Thomas, younger brother of the subject of this
notice, and founder of the house of Desmond. The arrangement made
on this occasion is noticed in our account of that branch.

* Cox. t Leland ; Lodge and Cox say, with the aid of Desmond Hugh MacRory.
1 Camden. § Lodge. || Ibid.

288 THE FITZGERALDS.

EARL OF KILDARE.

DIED A. D. 1316.

JOHN, the eldest son of Thomas Fitz-Gerald, lord Ophaly, was tho
first earl of Kildare. The most remarkable event in which he is
directly concerned, is the dispute with Vesey, the lord justice, which
ended in a large accession to his possessions, and ultimately in his
promotion to the title. Though the circumstances of this quarrel are
by no means of historical importance, yet Cox's narration of them is
for many reasons interesting ; we shall therefore extract some of the
very quaint and amusing speeches which this writer has put into the
mouths of the contending parties.

" The lord justice," writes Cox, " hearing many complaints of the
oppressions the country daily received, which he thought reflected on
him, and insinuated his maleadministration, therefore to disburthen
and excuse himself, he began, in misty speeches, to lay the fault on
the lord John Fitzgerald's shoulders, saying (in parable wise) 'that
he was a great occasion of these disorders, in that he bare himself in
private quarrels as fierce as a lyon, but in these public injuries as
meek as a lamb.' The baron of Ophaly, spelling and putting these
syllables together, spake after this manner: —

" ' My lord, I am heartily sorry, that among all this noble assembly
you make me your only butt, whereat you shoot your bolt ; and truly
were my deserts so hainous, as I suppose you wish them to be, you
would not cloud your talk with such dark riddles, as at this present
you have done; but with plain and flat English, your lordship would
not stick to impeach me of felony or treason; for as mine ancestors
with spending of their blood in their sovereign's quarrel, aspired to this
type of honour, in which at this day (God and my king be thanked) I
stand ; so your lordship, taking the nigher way to the wood, by charg-
ing me with treason, would gladly trip so roundly on my top, that by
shedding of my blood, and by catching my lands into your clutches,
that butt so near upon your mannors of Kildare and Rathingham, as
I dare say are an eyesore unto you, you might make my master, your
son, a proper gentleman!'

" ' A gentleman !' quoth the lord justice, ' thou bold baron, I tell
thee the Vescies were gentlemen before the Geraldines were barons
of Ophaly; yea, and before that Welch bankrupt, thine ancestor (he
meant Sir Maurice Fitz-Gerald), feathered his nest in Leinster. And
whereas thou takest the matter so far in snuff, I will teach thee thy
syripups after another fashion, than to be thus malapertly cocking and
billing with me, that am thy governour. Wherefore, albeit thy taunts
are such as might force the patientest philosopher that is, to be choakt
with choler, yet I would have thee ponder my speech, as though I
delivered it in my most sober and quiet mood. I say to the face of
thee, and I will avow what I say unto thee, that thou art a supporter
of thieves, a bolsterer of the king's enemies, an upholder of traytors,
a murderer of subjects, a firebrand of dissension, a rank thief, an

FIRST EARL OF KILDARE. 289

arrant traytor, and before I eat these words, I will make thee eat a
piece of my blade.'

" The baron, bridling with might and main his choler, bare him-
self as cold in countenance as the lord justice was hot in words, and
replied in this wise: —

" ' My Lord, I am very glad that at length you unwrapt yourself out
of that net wherein all this while you masked. As for mine ancestor
(whom you term bankrupt), how rich or how poor he was, upon his
repair to Ireland, I purpose not at this time to debate ; yet thus much
I may boldly say, that he came hither as a buyer, not as a beggar —
he bought the enemies' land by spending his blood. But you, lurking
like a spider in his cobweb to entrap flies, endeavour to beg subjects'
livings wrongfully, by despoiling them of their innocent lives. And
you charge me with malapertness, in that I presume to chop logic
with you, being governour, by answering your snappish quid with a
knappish quo> I would wish you to understand (now that you put me
in mind of the distinction), that I, as a subject, honour your royal
authority, but as a nobleman I despise your dunghill gentility. Lastly,
whereas you charge me with the odious terms of traytor, murtherer,
and the like, and therewithal you wish me to resolve myself, that you
rest upon reason, not upon rage; if these words proceed from your
lordship as a magistrate, I am a subject to be tried by order of law,
and am sorry that the governour, who ought, by vertue of his publick
authority, to be my judge, is, by reason of private malice, become
mine accuser.

" ' But if you utter these speeches as a private person, then I, John
Fitzgerald, baron of Ophaly, do tell thee, William Vescie, a singe-
sole gentleman, that I am no traytor, no felon; and that thou art the
only buttress by which the king's enemies are supported; the mean
and instrument by which his majesties subjects are daily spoiled;
therefore, I, as a loyal subject, say traytor to thy teeth ; and that shalt
thou well understand when we both shall be brought to the rehearsal
of these matters before our betters. Howbeit, during the time you
bear office, I am resolved to give you the mastery in words, and to
suffer you, like a brawling cur, to bark; but when I see my time, I
will be sure to bite.' "

After these " biting speeches" had passed, and a considerable fer-
ment was raised on both sides, lord Ophaly came to the determination
to bring the quarrel before the king, and went to England for this pur-
pose, whither he was quickly followed by Vesey. Lodge, with more
probability, represents them both as having been summoned by the
king. The king now fixed a day for the hearing of their quarrel.
They met before the council. Being placed on their knees before the
throne, Vesey was commanded to begin. He accused his enemy of
being the main cause of all the troubles in Ireland; for such he ob-
served was his authority with the Irish, that all their actions were
governed by his will. He attributed the numerous depredations
which were daily committed to his secret suggestion or command;
accused him of attending at disaffected and seditious meetings, and
of encouraging rebellion, and then exclaiming against the governor
himself for not preserving order. He then complained of the insult-

i. T Ir.

290 THE FITZGEBALDS.

ing and outrageous language which he offered in answer to his own
peaceable and moderate rebukes for such conduct ; and concluded by
pledging himself in a few days to bring forward and prove charges of
the utmost criminality against him.

Lord Ophaly listened with cool and scornful intrepidity to these
vague charges, and when his accuser had concluded, he " prest himself
somewhat forward," to reply. He ridiculed the dilatory conduct of
Vesey, in having suffered such accusations to sleep for so many years,
and at last having brought them forward in so crude and indefinite a
form; so that while he accused him in general terms of being the
main cause of all the Irish disorders, he did not specify a single act
of disloyalty on his part. As for his menace of treasonable accusations
at a future day, he laughed it to scorn, and compared his enemy to the
philosopher of antiquity who proposed to teach an ass to speak in seven
years, provided he might be allowed to live so long; knowing that
within that time, the king, who had menaced his life, or himself, or the
ass, would probably die. He himself, he observed, would not, like his
adversary, lose his errand on the way, and having come before his
majesty forget or retract any thing he had spoken in Ireland. He
then accused Vesey of corruption, and of excluding himself and all the
best nobility of Ireland from his presence, while " an Irish cow could
at all times have access."* He significantly alleged that a cow, a
horse, a hawk, a silver bell, were the real operating motives of his
conduct, and the cause of all the disorders in Ireland; and that the
nobility were accused, to cover his own treasonable connivance at
rebellions. He appealed to the obvious reason of the case, and ob-
served that no one could be so far imposed upon by representations so
evidently opposed to the most notorious facts. That the lord justice,
having the royal army and treasure at his command, and all the autho-
rities of the country at his beck, should not be able, if he so willed, to
look out " such bare breeched brats as swarm into the English pale."!
He concluded this dexterous reply with a challenge, thus reported by
Cox: " ' But so much as our mutual complaints stand upon the one his
yea, and the other his nay, and that you would be taken for a cham-
pion, and I am known to be no coward, let us in God's name leave
lying for varlets, herding for ruffians, facing for crackers, chatting for
twatlers, scolding for callets, booking for scriveners, pleading for
lawyers ; and let us try with the dint of sword as becomes martial men
to do, our mutual quarrels. Wherefore, to justifie that I am a true
subject, and that thou Vescie art an arch-traytor to God, and to
my king, here in presence of his highness, and in the hearing of this
honourable assembly, I challenge the combat.' Whereat all the audi-
tory shouted."

The challenge was accepted, the day fixed, and much preparation
made for an occasion so much in accordance with the taste and spirit
of the time. But the expectation of the court was disappointed : when
the day came, Vesey was in France, as Cox quaintly says, " Vescie
turning his great boast to small roast, began to cry creak, and secretly
sailed into France."^

* Cor. f Ib. t Holinshed. Cox.

FIEST EARL OF KILDARE. 291

On being apprized of his flight, king Henry bestowed his lordships
of Kildare and Rathangan on his adversary, observing, that " albeit
Vesey had conveyed his person into France, yet he left his lands be-
hind him in Ireland."

Notwithstanding this event, the probability is that the accusation
of Vesey was just: his attempt to trace to their source the disorders
of the country led to a more distinct notice of the oppressions and
disloyalties of the barons than was satisfactory to these powerful
nobles. And it is in the highest degree probable, that if the prompt
and dexterous conduct of lord Ophaly had not cut the matter short
by an appeal at that time unlikely to be rejected, that the most serious
charges would have been substantiated on undoubted evidence. This
supposition is confirmed by the subsequent conduct of Fitz-Gerald on
his return. The whole of this narration is impugned by Leland, who
gives no authority, and substitutes an account far less probable in its
circumstances. According to this, the proceedings were entered into,
and after being carried to some length, annulled as irregular ; and that
Vesey voluntarily resigned his manors, because his right, which ap-
pears to have been valid, was contested by the co-heiresses of his wife.

Fitz-Gerald, on his return, conducted himself in a manner too con-
sistent with the accusations of Vesey. Amongst other violent proceed-
ings by which he endeavoured to enlarge his vast possessions, he made
war on De Burgo, whose person he seized and imprisoned. Continu-
ing this war, he carried his violent proceedings to an extent that
rendered all connivance impossible; he was impeached in form, and
obliged to appear before the king and give security for his future
peaceable conduct.

From this the tenor of his history changes; in 12Q6, and in 1301,
we find him assisting the king in Scotland. In 1307, he also dis-
tinguished himself by his services in conjunction with his son-in-
law Edmond Butler (soon after lord Carrick) against the rebels in
Ophaly.

During this lord's time, the principal factions in Ireland were those
of De Burgo and his own, who were engaged against each other in hos-
tilities, only interrupted by the occasional influence of the government,
or by the accident of circumstances, which from time to time occurred
to divert their activity from mutual strife, to the service of the king.
On these occasions, the royal service was materially promoted by their
jealous anxiety to outshine each other in their force, equipments, and
actions.

The last year of his life was one of violent disturbance in Ireland.
It was the year of the Scottish invasion, which we must reserve for
other lives to which its details more properly appertain. This lord
was, however, among those who first gave a check to the invader Ed-
ward Bruce, brother to the king of Scotland, by giving him somo
severe defeats. In consideration of these services, as well as to secure
his loyalty, king Edward II. created him earl of Kildare, by letters
patent, dated 14th May, 1316.*

He died in the same year, and was interred in the Franciscan friary

292 THE FITZGERALDS.

of Kildare. He was married to a daughter of lord Fermoy, and had
four children. Of these, Thomas John succeeded him; Joan was
married to Edmond Butler, lord Carrick ; and Elizabeth to the ances-
tor of the Netherville family.

SECOND EARL OF KILDARE.

SUCCEEDED A. D. 1316. — DIED A.D. 1328.

THIS nobleman was appointed as leader of an army of thirty thousand
men, which was levied to meet Bruce. But his dispositions were ren-
dered vain by the interference of lord Mortimer, who came over with
a considerable force to assume the command, and sent orders for the
postponement of active operations till his arrival. The delay was fatal
to the occasion, as Bruce took advantage of it to avoid an engagement
for which he was not in condition.

This earl was lord justice in 1320, and was again appointed in 1326.
He died in this high station, in 1328, in his castle at Maynooth, and
was buried in the Franciscan friary of Kildare. He married a
daughter of Richard de Burgo; by her he had three sons, of whom
Richard succeeded him.

MAURICE, FOURTH EARL OF KILDARE.
DIED A. D. 1390.

NOT to re-enter upon the petty distractions in which this eminent
warrior took a leading part — the wars with O'Dempsies and O'Mores,
and other lesser Irish chiefs, whose insurrections he suppressed — it
may be considered as a title to a niche among the illustrious of his
age, that he attended king Edward III., at the siege of Calais, and
was knighted for his valour in the high station of command to which
he was appointed by the sagacity of that warlike monarch. In 1350,
he was appointed to the government of Ireland, with the annual fee
of £500. After this he was successively appointed again, in 1371 and
1375.

In the reign of Richard II., he was summoned to meet him in
parliament, at Castle-Dermott, Dublin and Naas. We shall here avail
ourselves of this memoir, to give a brief sketch of the Irish history
of this ill-fated and weak monarch, whose character appears to less
disadvantage in this country than in England.

At the accession of Richard, two principal evils marked the decline,

MAURICE, FOURTH EARL OF KILDARE. 293

and menaced the existence of the English colony in Ireland. The
greater proprietors had begun to absent themselves from their Irish
estates, and the native chiefs had not only to a great extent resumed
the possession of the territories which they or their fathers had an-
ciently held, but were even enabled to exact from the English no
small revenue, as the price of forbearance and protection.

The settlers, in this state of things, were loud in petition and re-
monstrance ; and various well-directed, but unfortunate or insufficient
remedies were tried. It is unnecessary to dwell on the successive
nominations of governors who did not govern, or whose short sojourn
had no result that can be called historical. The administration of
Sir Philip Dagworth might be expanded into a frightful picture of
oppression and extortion, under the sanction of authority. But un-
happily we want no such examples. The earl of Oxford was appointed
with kingly powers, and for a time governed by his deputies.

Sir John Stanley was next deputy, and was followed by the earl of
Ormonde. Both conducted the confused and sinking interests of the
country with prudence and spirit; and the consequences were such
as to exemplify the important necessity of the presence of such men.
The powerful O'Niall soon surrendered, and entered into engagements
of submission and loyalty.

These advantages were not equivalent to their cost. Applications
for money on the pretence of Irish affairs became a grievance, and the
subject of frequent remonstrance. On the other hand, the petitions of
the Irish became louder and more urgent. The duke of Gloucester
volunteered his services ; they were accepted. Preparations were made ;
and, from the weight of the duke's character, for spirit and ability, the
best consequences were not unreasonably anticipated. But suddenly,
when all was ready, the king announced his intention to undertake the
expedition in person. This resolution has been attributed by some
writers to fear of the talent and ambition of his uncle, by others, with
more apparent justice, to mortified vanity. His application to be
elected emperor of Germany drew from the electors a charge of in-
capacity ; they refused to weigh the claims of a prince who could not
recover the dominions of his ancestors in France. Richard was re-
solved to repel the imputation by heroic enterprise, but discreetly
selected Ireland as a field more appropriate to his abilities. Ample
preparations were made ; and, in October, 1 394, he landed at Water-
ford, with four thousand men at arms and thirty thousand archers,
an army sufficient, in competent hands and with rightly aimed in-
tentions, to place the fortunes of Ireland on the level of a secure and
prosperous progress to civil tranquillity, order, and liberty. He was
attended by the duke of Gloucester, the earls of Rutland, Nottingham,
and other persons of distinction and rank.

Resistance was, of course, not for a moment contemplated. The
Irish chiefs contended in the alacrity and humility of their submission ;
but there was no presiding wisdom in the councils of Richard — all
the ability was on one side. The chiefs made ostentatious conces-
sions of all that was required, but which really amounted to nothing.
Truth and the faith of treaties were wanting. They proposed to do
homage, to pay tribute, and to keep the peace ; and these specious offeri

294 THE FITZGERALDS.

satisfied the feeble understanding of Richard. This weak and vain
monarch — softened by their flatteries and seeming submission, and im-
patient to secure a nominal advantage — shut out from his mind the
whole experience of the past, which left no shadow of doubt on the
absurdity of any hope that such pledges would be regarded a moment
after they could be broken with impunity. The supposition that they
were sincere was an unpardonable imbecility. The stern and acute
predecessor of this infatuated prince would, under the same circum-
stances, have at once seen and consulted the interests of both English
and Irish, and acted with a just and merciful rigour. He would have
flung aside with merited disregard, the artful offers of a pretended
submission, and for ever placed it beyond the power of any chief or
baron to enact the crimes of royalty on the scale and stage of plun-
derers. Instead of receiving pledges, he would have dismembered
territories extensive beyond any object but military power. Whether
or not, in effecting this essential object, this rigorous king would have
consulted expediency without regard to justice, we cannot determine ;
but of this we are convinced, that the measure required might have
been effected without any wrong. It would be easy to show, that a
distinction between actual property available for domestic, social, and
personal expenditure, and extensive territorial and fiscal jurisdiction,
might have been made the basis of a settlement as equitable as the
intent of the king might have admitted. The policy of Edward would,
it is probable, have secured the prosperity and peace of the country,
on a surer, though, according to our view, less equitable basis, by al-
lotting the estates of those robber kings to English settlers. But
whatever view a more deep consideration of the state of affairs might
have suggested, one thing admits of no question. The territorial
jurisdiction of the Irish chiefs was equally inconsistent with the im-
provement of the Irish, or the "peace of their English neighbours. It
was a state equally incompatible with progress or civil order; and
although it may be made a question, what right a nation has to invade
the country of another, under any circumstances but retaliation — yet
it is a question, which, if not rendered absurd by the history of every
civilized nation, is surely set at rest by established tenure. The Eng-
lish colony was settled not merely by usurpation, but on the faith of
treaties and voluntary cessions, as well as cessions by conquest; the
claim which it had to its possessions was not inferior to any other.
Considering this, there can be no doubt, according to the severest
view of national equity, that a neighbouring territory, existing in a
state of continued aggression, assuming the rights of forcible exaction,
could have no claim to any justice but that which resistance and the
privileges of armed interference give. Such privileges are rigidly
commensurate with the necessity of the case.

The occasion was one which admitted of a just and lenient policy,
and such alone seems to us to have been called for. The whole nation
might have been reduced to one policy and government, and all its
factious chiefs deprived of the very name of power. It is easy to see
and point out the disadvantages to be apprehended from any course ;
but it was a time pregnant with change and the seeds of change, and
the question which lay open, was the settlement most likely to put an

MAURICE, FOURTH EARL OF KILDARE. 295

end to disorder and secure permanent good. An occasion was lost
which could never come, unless with the most deplorable train of na-
tional calamities. In a state of order, it is unsafe and unjust to tam-
per with the rights of persons — the error of modern times : rebellion,
which is a state of crime against established rights, is attended by the
forfeiture of all right, and war is attended by the rights of conquest ;
on either supposition, it was the time to enforce these rights for the
common good.

The Irish chiefs made such specious excuses, as are always ready
for credulous ears, and offered submission in every form. They did
homage on their knees — unarmed, uncovered, and ungirdled, and re-
ceived the kiss of peace from the lord marshall. They resigned all
lands which they held in Leinster, pledged themselves to military
service, and were bound by indenture to adhere to the treaty thus
made. But the weak king engaged to pay them pensions, and gave
them leave to make conquests among " his enemies in other provinces,"
thus annulling the little value of this nugatory agreement. Seventy-
five little kings thus submitted, all of whom were the absolute despots
of their own small dominions, and spent their lives in the business of
petty wars and depredations.

Richard, fully satisfied with his exploits, completed the favourable
impression which his power and magnificence had made, by holding
his court in Dublin. There he indulged his vanity in a weak and
profuse luxury. The Irish chiefs flocked to his court, where they
were received with ostentatious kindness ; and disguised their wonder
and admiration, by a well-assumed deportment of grave and haughty
dignity. Four of the principal chiefs were, with some difficulty, pre-
vailed on to allow themselves to be knighted. They expressed sur-
prise that it could be thought that they could receive additional honour
from a ceremony which they had undergone in their youth, after the
manner of their fathers. O'Niall, O'Conor, O'Brian, and M'Murrough,
were induced to submit to receive the honour in due form from king
Richard. On these, knighthood — then the most honourable distinction,
though now sadly fallen from its rank — was solemnly conferred in St
Patrick's cathedral ; after which they were feasted, in their ceremonial
robes, by the king.

Richard was immediately after obliged to return to England. The
Irish chiefs were urged to perform the only part of their promises
which had any meaning. But the single motive which had weight with
them was gone ; they temporized a little, and then refused. Oppres-
sion and hostility recommenced their old round, and things relapsed
into their wonted condition.

These disorders quickly rose to their height. De Burgo, Berming-
ham, and Ormonde, exerted themselves, and gained great advantages,
which were more than counterbalanced by a defeat, in which many of
the king's forces, among whom were forty gentlemen of rank and pro-
perty,* were slain by the O'Tooles. The earl of Marche, who was left
by Richard in the government, proceeding rashly, and in perfect
ignorance of the country, was surprised and slain.

*Cox.

296 THE FITZGERALDS.

Kildare took a prominent part, and was distinguished by his valour,
and fidelity through the whole of these proceedings. He was rewarded
for his services, and the great expenses he had incurred were reim-
bursed by the grant of a rich wardship in Kildare and Meath, of the
estates of Sir John de Loudon; and subsequently by the grants of
several Irish manors in the county of Dublin, to be held for ever of
the crown in capite* He died in 1390, and was buried in the church
of the Holy Trinity, in Dublin.

THOMAS, SETENTff EARL OF KILDARE.

DIED A. D. 1478.

WE have already had occasion to advert to the chief political events
of this nobleman's life under our notices of his illustrious contempo-
raries. He was, in 1460, deputy to the unfortunate duke of York.
In 1463, he was lord chancellor. In 1467, he was attainted, with the
earl of Desmond, and Edward Plunket; but had the good sense to
escape from the bloody fate of the former of these eminent persons.
On this occasion, while the rash confidence of the earl of Desmond
betrayed him into the hands of the lord deputy, who ordered off his
head without hearing the representations to which he trusted, Kildare
made his escape, and, appealing to the justice of Edward IV., was not
only restored, but on the recall of the earl of Worcester, was made
deputy in his room.

Into his administration we need not specially enter. By his advance-
ment, the Geraldine faction were restored to their ascendancy and the
interests of the great rival house of Butler suffered a temporary depres-
sion. Kildare's opponents were put down with a high hand, and his
dependents and connexions promoted. Faction was acquiring at that
time a destructive energy and organization, which we shall hereafter
have occasion to notice more expressly.

So high was the power of this great earl, that the restoration of
Henry VI. did not shake him in his seat. It was at this time that he
first set on foot a remarkable scheme of combination for the defence
of the English. It was improved afterwards in 1474, when an asso-
ciation of thirteen lords and gentlemen was authorized by parliament,
under the denomination of " The Fraternity of St George." Of these
the earl of Kildare was the principal ; they were to meet on St George's
day every year, to express their loyalty and adherence to the English
government. Their captain was to be annually chosen on this anni-
versary meeting: he was to command a force of two hundred men,
one hundred and twenty mounted archers, and forty men at arms like-
wise mounted, with an attendant to each. For the maintenance of
this force, they were empowered to levy twelve pence in the pound
upon all merchandise sold in Ireland except hides, and the goods of

* Lodge, ArchdalL •

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE. 297

freemen in Dublin and Drogheda. They were also empowered to
make laws for their own regulation and government ; and had authority
for the apprehension of outlaws, rebels, &c.

Meanwhile the earl of Ormonde, the political opponent of Kildare,
was by the admirable prudence of his deportment, and the winning
address of his manner and conversation, advancing into favour in the
court of Edward ; and under the protection and countenance of this
accomplished nobleman, his numerous connexions and dependents
were labouring to undermine Kildare. Their efforts were at last
successful, and an enemy appointed in his place. He shortly after
died, in 1478, and was buried in All Saints, near Dublin.*

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE.

DIED A. D. 1513. •.

THE eighth earl of Kildare may be considered as the most eminent
Irishman during his long life, the events of which period may there-
fore be most conveniently, and with the least prolixity or confusion,
brought together in our notice of him.

His mother was Joan, daughter to the seventh earl of Desmond.
His elder sister married Henry Mac Owen O'Neile; by which he was
closely connected through life with the family of O'Neile, and was
uncle to Con O'Neile, who married his daughter. He succeeded
his father in 1478, and was appointed lord deputy to the duke of
York. The king, however, was led to recall this appointment, by his
prejudice against the barons of the Irish pale. There was unques-
tionably some ground for the suspicion that these noblemen, continually
involved in factions, enmities, and alliances, could scarcely govern
with the impartial temper necessary for the restoration of order and
tranquillity: and the connexions of the Geraldine lords were more
peculiarly obnoxious to such suspicion. The O'Neiles, who were in
this generation identified with the Geraldines of Kildare, had for some
generations been among the proudest and most untractable of the
nati\e chiefs. The earl was dismissed and lord Grey was sent over
in his place. This hasty act roused the pride, resentment, and fear
of the Irish barons. They were bent on resistance : some informality
in lord Grey's commission seems to have afforded the excuse. Kildare
denied the authenticity of the king's letter of dismissal, which was
only signed with the privy seal; and a lamentable contest, in the
highest degree adapted to bring the English government into disgrace,
now followed. The two rival governors proceeded to hold their
parliaments; and that held by Grey annulled the acts of that by the
earl of Kildare. The Irish barons, as well as the officers of state, sided
with Kildare. On the death of the duke of Clarence, which vacated

* Lodge.

298 THE FITZGERALDS.

Grey's appointment, they took advantage of the circumstance to elect
Kildare, according to an ancient law of Henry II., confirmed by a
statute of Richard II. Grey's parliament still resisted, and the con-
fusion arose to such a height that it was thought necessary by the
king to summon Kildare and other principal persons, to give an
account of the nature and causes of such perplexed and disorderly pro-
ceedings. Grey resigned; and king Edward, who, probably by this
time, had learned the necessity of a more powerful agency than he
could afford to employ in the administration of Irish affairs, affected
to be satisfied with the representations of the Geraldine faction, and
reinstated Kildare. He came back armed with ample powers and
liberal allowances, and superseded lord Gormanston, who hud been
appointed in the interim. He held a parliament on his return, in
which Con O'Neile, his son-in-law, was naturalized.

The government of Kildare was such as to support his pretensions
and serve the English ; his ability and active vigour soon appeared : he
preserved peace and order more by his extensive family power and
influence, than by the small force he was allowed by the court of
England, and more probably by his favour with the Irish than either.
The heads of the Geraldine race had long been regarded by the natives
as their own chiefs, and had thus, in a measure, become naturalized
among the septs. He defended the pale with unusual vigour, and, at
tne same time, entered with spirit and interest into the affairs of the
natives, and continued with uninterrupted prosperity through the re-
mainder of Edward's reign and that of his successor.

Edward IV. died in 1483 (April). Richard III. had too much to
attend to, to think of Irish affairs, so that no alteration was thought
of. The parliaments held by Kildare were subservient to his influence,
and he was enabled to act with great promptness and success in all he
undertook. One parliament in Dublin gave him a subsidy of thirteen
shillings and fourpence on every plowland for the expenses of his
military proceedings.*

The accession of Henry VII. was not received with popular favour
among the Geraldine faction, who had always been the warm adherents
of the rival branch of York. There was, therefore, felt a very general
sensation of surprise at the continuance of Kildare and other Yorkist
lords in office. It is highly probable that Henry was, by his residence
abroad during his exile, prevented from entering to the full extent
into the remoter ramifications of faction. However this may be, there
is reason enough to agree with many writers on the period, who cen-
sure his neglect. He left an ample field unguarded in the hands of
his numerous enemies, for the shelter and promotion of their secret
intrigues. Kildare's party seemed elated by an oversight which they
attributed to their own importance and power, and were suffered to
go to remarkable lengths of excess and daring, until they were be-
trayed by indulgence, and tempted by their factious predilections, into
a course, which seriously risked the prosperity of this eminent noble-
man.

The conduct of Henry VII. was impolitic, and little adapted to sink

*Cox.

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE. 299

past enmity into oblivion: he was mean, cold, avaricious, and uncon-
ciliating, without the enlarged foresight that might, either by policy
or kindness, have suppressed the power, or soothed the prejudices of
his enemies. He allowed himself to be influenced by his own factious
feelings: without disarming, he evinced hostility and disfavour to
the Yorkists. But the effects of these unpopular dispositions were
fermented into a generous indignation by his cruelty to the young
earl of Warwick, and still more by his unworthy conduct towards his
queen — the representative of the house of York, and the hope of this
party. The mother of this slighted wife and insulted daughter of
Edward IV., a princess celebrated for her active spirit and her talent for
intrigue, had been materially influential in the course of events which
placed Henry on the throne. She now bent all her faculties and ani-
mosity towards revenge.

The wary and apprehensive suspicion of Henry was excited by the
numerous indications of such a state of things ; his friends and his
creatures were alert, and a plot was soon suspected on reasonable
grounds, though its definite intentions and agents were yet mysterious.
His attention was directed to Ireland; he recollected, or was reminded
that it had ever been the ready refuge of the enemies and opponents of
his house, and that Kildare had been a zealous partisan and servant of
the house of York. He was indeed surrounded by the enemies of
Kildare. It was in the second year of his reign that, under the in-
fluence of these suggestions, he summoned Kildare to court on the
pretext of desiring to consult with him on the state of Ireland. The
earl was too well aware of his real objects to be willing to obey the
summons ; he had justly appreciated the cold craft of Henry — he also
felt that his ear and countenance were possessed by his own bitter
enemies, and resolved not to put himself in their power. He convened
the Irish barons, and obtained an address to the king, representing
the danger of his leaving the country, until certain precautionary
measures should be adopted. On the strength of this, Kildare defer-
red his departure, and the king pretended to be satisfied.

The history of Lambert Simnel is generally known to every one : a
wicked and mischievous farce, of which the most remarkable scenes
were acted in Ireland. Every reader of English history is aware of
the blundering plot, in which this poor youth was made to personate
the young earl of Warwick, whose person was widely known and in
the actual custody of the king. To avoid the many embarrassing
consequences of so absurd a pretension, it was thought advisable that
he should first appear in Ireland, where any suspicion on the score of
identity was less likely to be raised, and where the faction, which was
numerous and enthusiastic, might gather to a head without obser-
vation.

Simnel arrived in Dublin, was received with enthusiasm, crowned
with a diadem taken from a statue of the virgin, in Christ church,
where a sermon was preached by the bishop of Meath ; the ceremony
was attended by the lord deputy, the chancellor, treasurer, and other
state officers. From church he was carried in state, after the ancient
Irish fashion, on the shoulders of " Great Darcy of Flatten," and held
Jiis court in Dublin, in all the state and authority of a king. The

300 THE FITZGERALDS.

credulity of the people was satisfied, and the royal imposture was hailed
with a general overflow of enthusiastic loyalty : at the same time, it is
not likely that many beyond the lowest rabble were deceived; there
can be no doubt that Kildare and his party looked upon Simnel merely
as the instrument of their own resentment, ambition, and factious feel-
ing ; to be used for the depression of Henry's cause, and the promotion
of that of the claimants of the rival house. There seemed to be two
obvious courses ; one to decoy Henry into Ireland — the other, to march
an army into England. By the first, the Yorkists would be enabled
to make head, and ,to pursue their operations with less interruption
in that country: the second assumed the extensive existence of a con-
spiracy in England, and the immediate co-operation of a preponderating
force. Looking on either alternative, the plan appears to us to be
little short of insanity. This, however, may be said of the whole his-
tory of such insurrections ; to the retrospect of history, they seem to
be the result of an infatuation that is always hard to account for, until
it is remembered how little experience has to do with the political
movements of faction, and how rashly passion and ambition overlook
difficulties and exaggerate advantages.

The English adherents of Simnel, who were strangers in the country,
were in favour of making Ireland the scene of the struggle ; but the
Irish barons were aware of the fallacy of their assumptions. The
pale was at the time contracted to a few miles of territory; beyond
its boundaries, any support they might expect to find was not likely
to be either sincere or effectual. To this is to be added the difficulty
of maintaining their force in an impoverished country, and we should
also infer the reluctance of the Irish people to have their own lands
and homes the scene first of military exaction, and then, should matters
take an unfavourable turn, of military execution and the total revolu-
tion of power and property which might be effected on the spot by an
enraged victor.

A little before, the rebels had received a large accession of force bj
the exertions of the duchess of Burgundy, who sent over two thousand
Germans, under the command of Martin Swart, an experienced leader.
With these the earl of Lincoln, and the lord Lovel, with many Eng-
lish gentlemen and followers, had come over to Ireland to swell their
confidence, and add to their distressing expenditure.

With this force, it was resolved to pass over into England, and
throw themselves on the popularity of their cause. This was undoubt-
edly increased; but the king had, in the mean time, exercised that
prudence and precaution which were so much wanting amongst his
adversaries. He deprived disaffection of its flimsy pretext, by the
open exhibition of the true earl of Warwick; and made his levies with
promptitude, carefully selecting the flower of the counties of Norfolk,
Suffolk, and Essex, which were favourable to the earl of B rough ton
and other rebel lords. Kildare remained in Ireland to attend to the
government; but his brothers, lord Thomas and lord Maurice, of whom
the former was chancellor, and resigned his seals for the purpose,
accompanied the expedition. It was placed under the command of
lord Lincoln, and landed at Furness some time about the end of May,
1487. They were joined on their landing by Sir Thomas Broughton,

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE. 301

and marched through Yorkshire to Newark,* in the sanguine hope of
being joined by the people in their progress. In this they were sadly
disappointed. The king's precautions had been such as to conciliate
popular good- will ; and there was a general prejudice against a king,
however legitimate, who was thus brought in as an invader by the
force of Dutch and Irish. Consequently their course was looked on
by the people with cold and silent curiosity, and every one shrunk back
from their advances. The country through which they had thus in-
considerately marched, had but recently been instructed by the disper-
sion of a rebel party, and quieted by the presence of the king. The
rebels were sadly discouraged by this reception, but it was no time to
turn, and they pursued their way toward Newark. It was now their
hope to surprise this place. King Henry advanced to meet them at
the head of a strong and well appointed force. On the 16th of June,
the van of his army, led by the earl of Oxford, came up with the rebels
near the village of Stoke. He also procured from the Pope a bull of
excommunication to be pronounced at will against the rebels. On the
llth of June both armies met, near the village of Stoke, and a battle
was fought in which both sides exerted themselves with the utmost
bravery and perseverance. The Irish troops, however, were sadly
degenerated from the training of their fathers, whose arms and disci-
pline gave a uniformity to the victorious progress of Strongbow and
his companions ; they had fallen into the habits of the native septs,
and now came like them, naked of defensive armour, and chiefly armed
with swords and light javelins, or bows of the Irish construction,
which were nearly useless against any but a half-naked antagonist.
The Germans were the main force of the rebel army, and, for a long
time, kept the victory doubtful; the Irish fought with desperate fury,
but when by degrees their steadier allies were cut to pieces, they were
obliged to give way, and after a murderous conflict, which lasted for
three hours, were routed with tremendous slaughter. The Germans,
with their brave leader were all slain. The lords Fitz-Gerald, with
other Irish leaders, were also the victims of their infatuation, and left
their bodies on this bloody field. More than half of the whole body
of the rebels were slain, and the loss of the English was very great.
Sir Thomas Broughton was also slain, and the lord Lovel was never
after heard of. Some of the old historians relate a strange romance,
of which, taking all the circumstances, the probability is sufficient.
The lord Lovel had been seen escaping from off the field; the slain
had also been examined — no pains were of course neglected to find
him; his life was forfeited, and it was little consistent with the fears
or vigilant activity of Henry to leave any spot unsearched; but all
search was vain, he was nowhere to be found. It might be expected
that his lady might have some tidings from his retreat, and his people
and friends must, sooner or later, have begun to look for some account:
but neither enmity nor love had the fortune to penetrate the mystery
of his concealment: the time came when the jealousy of the king must
have gone to sleep, and his appearance might have been ventured, but
the generation passed away, and lord Lovel was seen no more. In two

* Cox.

302 THE FITZGERALDS.

hundred years after, some labourers employed at Minster Lovel, in
Yorkshire, the mansion of this ancient lord, discovered a chamber
under ground, which had, perhaps, been contrived for concealment.
There they found, seated on a chair, and leaning over a table, by which
it was supported, the skeleton of a man, which was supposed to be that
of the rebel lord.*

The remainder of this rebellion was soon disposed of. Simael was
taken and allowed to live and reflect disgrace on his adherents, in the
capacity of a scullion in Henry's kitchen; from which he was after-
wards raised to the post of falconer.

Henry sent letters expressive of his thanks to the citizens of Water-
ford, who had adhered to his cause. The archbishops of Cashel and
Tuam, and other prelates who had kept aloof from rebellion, were com-
missioned to pronounce ecclesiastical censures upon the archbishop
of Armagh and other prelates who had taken part with the rebels
and their puppet king. The Irish barons became sensible of their
folly, and were looking with reasonable apprehension to the conse-
quences: but Henry had still a delicate course to pursue: he had per-
ceived the consequences of his unpopular conduct, and now desired to
conciliate popular opinion, and to reconcile the affections he had
alienated. He had not the means to settle Ireland by a thorough con-
quest, or even to keep up a force sufficient for its preservation, and had
the sagacity to perceive, that if it was to be preserved, it must be by
means of the power existing among the great Irish barons themselves.
In such a juncture, Kildare alone possessed the power and influence
necessary for the support of his authority, and it would be necessary
altogether to root out the Geraldine interests by a destructive war, or
by conciliation to avail himself of their authority. The house of
Butler was, at the time, in no condition to support him; Desmond
would probably side with his Geraldine kindred.

The views of the king were seconded by the circumstances in which
Kildare was placed. This great nobleman was, of course, not want-
ing to himself; he pursued the politic course of frank avowals, and
promises of submission; he was answered with an assurance that the
king's favour should depend upon his future conduct. He was con-
tinued in the government, and instructed to support the king's authority,
and maintain the tranquillity of the pale. Although this concession
strongly indicates the great power of Kildare, he was not yet clear of
the consequences of the king's jealousy, or of the invidious hostility
of individuals, to which his recent conduct had in some measure ex-
posed him. The king was not content to leave it to be understood
that his interests were left unprotected by himself; it quickly occurred
to a mind so cautious and wary, that the ambition of Kildare would
be strongly tempted by the notion that the king was at his mercy hi
Ireland. Under these or such impressions, he sent over Sir Richard
Edgecumbe, for the ostensible purpose of receiving submissions and
giving pardons, but he sent him with a force of five hundred men, to
make his presence respected, and impress a salutary awe. The effect
of this measure was different on different persons. Edgecumbe re-

* Carte. Bacon.

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE.

303

ceived the submissions of many at Kinsale, and then sailed to Water-
ford, where he complimented the citizens on their fidelity. Lastly, he
sailed for Dublin, where, arriving on the 5th of July, he was received,
with all humility, by the mayor and citizens. Kildare was absent on
some expedition. On the 1 2th he arrived, and sent the lord Slane and
the bishop of Meath to Edgecumbe, to invite him to a conference at St
Thomas' court, where he himself was lodging. Edgecumbe repaired to
the place, armed with haughtiness, and wrapped in diplomatic sternness,
probably expecting to find in Kildare the same ready submission which
he had hitherto found in others. But Kildare knew too well the secret
of his own greatness to lower his high pretensions so far; he met the
cold reserve of Edgecumbe with a courtesy as cold. He heard his re-
presentations and overtures — discussed them freely — and consented to
give the assurance of homage, fealty, and oaths of fidelity; but refused
to yield to certain further proposals, of which the import has not trans-
pired.* The parties separated without coming to an agreement: but
met again and renewed the discussion. Kildare persisted in withhold-
ing his concurrence to any terms beyond those offered by himself; and
the commissioner found it expedient to acquiesce.

The consent of Kildare being thus obtained, he was joined in the
oaths of allegiance and fidelity, by the lords Portlester, Trimleston, Dun-
sany, &c.,f who were absolved from the ecclesiastical censures which
had been pronounced upon them. This absolution was proclaimed
on the following Sunday, in a sermon preached by Payne bishop of
Meath.J This seems curious, as Payne is mentioned among the
bishops thus absolved : Ware enumerates him with the bishops of
Dublin, Meath, and Kildare, who lay under the same censures, and
were similarly pledged and absolved. On this occasion, the full re-
conciliation and pardon of Henry was signified to Kildare by a golden
chain ; and, a few days after, Kildare delivered a written certificate,
under his seal, declaring his promise of future fidelity.

Kildare was continued in the government, a measure marked by
the cool and unimpassioned prudence of the king's character. The most
common allowance for the earl's regard to his own interest, as well as
the solemnity of the pledge he had made, might be felt to ensure his
fidelity for some time at least; and it could not be doubted, that his
great power and authority in Ireland marked him as the fittest person
to keep down its fermenting spirit, and preserve the allegiance of its
proud and irritable, as well as restless and turbulent barons. The
result was all that could reasonably be hoped for : Kildare exerted him-
self with vigour and efficient success; he invaded M'Geohegan's country,
and reduced its principal fortress, and wasted the territory of Moy-
Cashel.§ Lodge mentions that at this time he received from Germany
six musquets, a rarity at the time, with which his guard were armed
when they stood sentry before his residence in Thomas' court.

His enemies were, meantime, on the alert. The archbishop of
Armagh strongly represented the danger of allowing a subject so
powerful and ambitious to rule all things at will, and offered to counter-
balance his authority by accepting the troublesome office of chancellor

* Lclaiid.

f Ware.

Ware.

§ Lodge.

304 THE FITZGERALDS.

His representations were met by counter statements on the part of
Kildare, who was not remiss in his own defence. For this purpose he
sent over Payne, the bishop of Meath, as his emissary to the court.
Henry was not one to act on the suggestion of such representations.
He was yet so far influenced by the speciousness of the allegations on
either side, that he summoned over Kildare, with the principal lords
of either faction, that he might be the better enabled to judge from a
more near observation of their dispositions and representations, as well
as to confirm the good and deter the evil designs which he might thus
ascertain. The result was favourable to Kildare. The calculating
disposition of Henry is curiously illustrated by the strong practical
reproof of their late disaffection, which he contrived upon this occasion.
He received them at Greenwich, and having expostulated with them
in a kind and condescending tone on their recent ill conduct, he invited
them to a banquet, at which they assembled, many of them triumphing
in their easy restoration to honour and royal favour. Their exulta-
tion was probably damped by the appearance of one of the attendants
by whom they were surrounded: this was no other than Lambert
Simnel himself, the puppet to whom they had bowed their necks but
a few days before. The sensation of mortification was, it may be con-
ceived, strongly felt ; fear, too, notwithstanding the recent act of grace,
insinuated itself, as they looked with uneasy glances at the confidant
of so much disloyalty and so much secret intrigue. But their fears
were vain: the king had not stooped to extract the guilty minutiae of
indiscretion, from a source which his pride, as well as policy, had
affected to despise. A more judicious policy followed this seasonable
humiliation with kindness and royal munificence.

The earl returned to his government with renewed lustre, and armed
with plenary authority. The whispers of faction had been silenced,
the more violent demonstrations of invidious feeling repressed by his
success, the most powerful barons were his personal adherents and
friends; his own force was sufficient, also, to meet hostile movements,
which were uniformly partial in their extent and purposes. And it
was still more favourable to his government, that few of the Irish chiefs
were sufficiently disengaged from their own contentions, to be at leisure
to pay much attention to the events of the settlement. His kinsman,
Desmond, in the south, and O'Niall in the north, were active in their
several spheres to keep up the distractions of those whose quiet might
be dangerous to the slowly recovering prosperity of the pale.

In this state of things, another adventurer appeared on the scene.
The rivals of king Henry's claim were far from acquiescing in the
general consent of the kingdom. A repetition of the same manoeuvre
which we have detailed, was soon contrived and repeated with greater
caution. The name of Richard, duke of York, was again assumed by a
youth of the name of Warbeck, who was sent out of the way, into Portugal,
until the favourable moment for his appearance should occur. In
such a conjuncture, King Henry did not think it advisable to risk the
renewal of the former dangerous plot, by the continuance of the same
actors on the scene of public affairs in Ireland: Kildare was displaced,
and the duke of Bedford appointed — the archbishop of Dublin being
selected as his deputy. The consequence was, for the time, of

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE.

305

serious disadvantage to Kildare, and to all the lords of his family and
faction. It would occupy far more space than the scale of this work
admits of, to detail, with any minuteness, the circumstances of the
many changes of reverse and prosperity in the busy and eventful life
of this eminent nobleman, by far the most remarkable Irishman of his
time. This interval of disfavour, though not of long continuance, had
the effect of depressing many of his friends, and restoring many of
his enemies to a position in which they could again be trouble-
some. Of these none require to be specially noticed but the Ormonde
family, who, having now been for a long time in a condition of adver-
sity, were beginning again to lift up their heads in the sunshine of
court favour, and to regain their ascendency in Ireland. The parlia-
ment assembled by the new deputy, was mainly composed of enemies
to Kildare: their chief object seems to have been the mortification of
himself, and the depression of his party. All these were called to the
severest account for proceedings long past, the delinquencies of whole
lives were ripped up, and the arrangements of a long season of power
and influence were reversed.

The landing of Warbeck soon folio wed, but was not in the same degree
eventful as the former attempt of a similar nature. Much disaffection
was excited, and many animosities inflamed ; but the inhabitants of the
pale had not yet quite forgotten the lesson of caution they had so
recently received, and if they had, their condition was, at the time, un-
favourable to insurrectionary movements. A wet summer and autumn
caused a grievous dearth in the land, which was followed by a dreadful
malady common at the time, known by the name of the sweating sick-
ness ; it was probably a repetition of the same pestilence which had
visited this island in the year 1348, after making its ravages in most
parts of Europe; and again appeared in 1361, 1370, and 1383.*
Under such circumstances, no decided movement in Warbeck's favour
was made ; Desmond declared for him, and Kildare, it is alleged by his-
torians, showed signs of following the same course. Fortunately for
this earl, Warbeck received an invitation from the French king, who
wished to use him as a means of annoyance against Henry. He depart-
ed, and pursued his adventurous and tragic fortunes; "one of the
longest plays of that kind that hath been in memory, and might, per-
haps, have had another end, if he had not met a king both wise, stout,
and fortunate."f Having first landed in 1492, he was hanged in
Tyburn, November, 1499.

Meanwhile king Henry was perplexed by the various and contra-
dictory statements which reached him from Ireland. He at last
ordered the deputy to attend him that he might communicate the full

* The pestilence of 1485 is described by Polydore Virgil, from whose description
a curious account may be found in Ware's Annals — Ad. An. 1491.

It is curious that Ware mentions the plague of 1491, to have followed the ap-
pearance of a " blazing star." Such was the philosophy of his day. The incident
was perhaps present to Milton's imagination in his description of a comet —
" That fires the length of Ophiucus huge,
In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war."
t Bacon.

I- u Ir.

306 THE FITZGERALDS.

detail of all the transactions during his administration. The arch-
bishop went over, but added little to the king's information on Irish
affairs. The answers of the bishop were more indicative of his virtue
and simplicity, than of his political competency. The king was favour-
ably impressed by his conversation, and treated him with distinguish-
ing favour.

The faction of Kildare were alarmed. Kildare himself resolved to
plead his own cause with the king, and without delay repaired to
England. His representations were, however, at this time, unfavour-
ably received ; the king's ear was prepossessed by his enemies. Though
it is probable that most of his statements came gradually to work in
his favour, as after events confirmed their truth, or at least gave them
a colour of probability, he was now ungraciously rebuked, and told
that the charges against him were many, and required to be tried in
Ireland. He was commanded to attend Sir Edward Poynings, the
new deputy, to that country.

Poynings landed at Howth, about the end of September, with nearly
a thousand men, and accompanied by several ecclesiastics who were
appointed to fill the most important civil offices. Not long after, re-
solving to act with vigour, he collected all the force that could be drawn
together, in which he was assisted by the earl of Kildare, and Sir
James Ormonde, the enemy of Kildare. With this force he marched into
Ulster, where he ravaged the territories of the O'Hanlons and others,
who were known to be disaffected to the English government. These
exploits are not worth relating, as they had no result. The Irish knew
better than to afford them the advantage of a direct collision of force,
they allowed them to wreak a violence which could not be resisted, on
the produce of the earth, and the rude dwellings of its inhabitants ; but
the people melted from before their march into the unexplored recesses
of the forests and bogs. The most important facts were the still in-
creasing suspicions which, by the malice of his enemies, were thrown
upon the earl of Kildare. Kildare was undoubtedly discontented, and
with good reason ; for he was not only deprived of station and authority,
but wrongfully accused, and likely to be condemned without a fair and
open hearing. He was one of the many instances of the low and cor-
rupt state of public justice in his age: if a great man was suspected,
a sort of tacit judicature of espionage and intrigue, conducted by the
basest agents and with the worst motives, was set on foot; every re-
presentation, coloured by vindictive feeling, was heard with suspicion;
and if the plea of the accused was heard at all, it was by singular good
fortune. And yet this abuse was chiefly due to the inordinate ambi-
tion and unconstitutional power of the nobles thus persecuted: the
exclusion of justice was their own. In the instance of Kildare, the
wrongs under which he had suffered were by no uncommon, or even
improbable inference, made the ground of increased suspicions ; it could
not be believed that his loyalty was sincere, and he was accused of
secretly fomenting the designs of Malachy O'Hanlon. At the same
time, unfortunately many of the powerful Geraldines gave reason
enough to confirm these accusations ; and a brother of the earl's, by
seizing the castle of Carlow, brought these suspicions to a decision.

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE.

307

A parliament was presently assembled, in which, among1 other acts,
some of which we shall hereafter notice,* the earl was declared a
traitor ; and soon after sent to England.

He was thrown into the Tower, where he was allowed to remain
nearly two years without a hearing. At length in 1496, he was
allowed to plead before the king. He was accused of conspiring with,
and abetting the designs of the king's enemies; of conspiring with
O'Hanlon to slay the deputy ; of causing the seizure of Carlow castle ;
of the exaction of coigue and livery and other such usual charges of the
time. The scene which took place is described with much distinct-
ness by many writers, and if we take into computation nothing more
than actually was answered against these allegations, the whole scene
is inexplicable. But it is in the very highest degree likely, that the
whole truth had in the meantime transpired, and the character and
history of Kildare reached the king through more unsuspicious chan-
nels. And it may be not unreasonably inferred that when Kildare was
brought forth to plead before the king, that the whole had been pre-
arranged. His enemies were now to be confronted with him, and he
was advised by the king to be provided with good counsel, "yea," said
Kildare, " the ablest in the realm," at the same time seizing the king's
hand with rude simplicity, "your highness I take for my counsel,
against these false knaves."f His accusers were now heard at length,
but the king had been made more distinctly aware of the circum-
stances, and was enabled to perceive the futility of most of their
charges, and to infer with certainty the fact of a most inveterate and
malignant conspiracy against the earl.

Among the many accusations which had been with industrious
enmity raked together for the present purpose, the greater part were
so far serviceable to Kildare, as they were such as plainly exposed the
motives of the accusers. They were such charges as might be
brought against all the nobles of Ireland; or such as affected the
interests or passions of the accusers only. None of any consequence
were such as could affect the interests of the king. Kil dare's manner
of defence was such as to impress a conviction of his sincerity and
honesty, and evidently suggested to the king, the idea that he was
likely to be the truest, as well as the most efficient servant to be
entrusted with his Irish interests. When he was charged with having
burned the church of Cashel, he interrupted the witnesses, " you may
spare your proofs," he said, " I did burn the church, for I thought the
bishop was in it." Charges thus met by one who seemed to despise his
accusers, and to fling on their accusations a high unconscious defiance,
became ridiculous. Kildare treated his enemies as if they had been
standing their trials in his own castle, and seemed as if he only thought
of clearing his wounded honour before the king. The king saw that
he was incapable of the craft and intrigue that had been imputed to
him, and made up his mind accordingly. When the bishop of Meath

* The acts of this parliament were the first written in English ; the previous Insh
parliaments having had their acts written in French — Ware's Antiquitiet.
f Leland, Cox, Ware.

308

THE FITZGERALDS.

ended a violent harangue, by saying, "all Ireland cannot govern that
gentleman," — "that gentleman then shall govern all Ireland," was the
answer of king Henry.*

The earl was now restored to his honours, and to favour, and con-
sulted by the king on the state of Ireland. Among the first-fruits of
this reconciliation, was the pardon of Desmond, and of the Irish subjects
who had favoured Warbeck. Kildare's return as deputy was more de-
cidedly of advantage to the king's interests, and to the subjects of the
pale, than any of the late measures. For though some excellent laws
had recently been made, the state of the country required expedients
stronger than law, which implies a state of subjection and civil order.
Kildare's decision and energy of character, together with his great
power, gave him an efficiency that no one else could pretend to : and
he entered on his administration with a strong zeal for the king, for
whose protection he was grateful.

He lost no time, on his arrival, but marched at once against O'Brien,
and then marched on through Limerick and Cork, in which latter
city he placed an effectual garrison. In the north his arms were
equally successful. His kinsman Con O'Niall was friendly to the
English interests, and exerted himself with ability and success, and Kil-
dare returned to Dublin after having quieted the country by the force
and terror of his arms. His prudence, generosity, and moderation,
were as distinguished as his success in the field. He reconciled him-
self to the bitter enemies over whose hostility he had so lately tri-
umphed. Among these the archbishop of Armagh, and Sir James
Ormonde, may be distinguished. A meeting with the earl, at the
desire of Sir James, in Christ church, for the purpose of explana-
tion, led to a dangerous riot, of which we shall presently relate the
particulars.

The decisive government, and the vigorous military conduct of
Kildare, caused great discontent among his opponents: every effort
was made to impede his activity and damp his zeal. He seemed to
have but one object in view, and exerted himself with such earnest
and successful care and activity, that his administration did more to
bring back the prosperity of the pale, than any efforts that had been
made for the two preceding centuries.

We may select a few of his principal enterprises during this admini-
stration. He marched in 1498 into Ulster, to the assistance of his
nephew, Tirlogh O'Niall. Tirlogh's father Con, had been murdered
by Henry his brother, who met the same fate from Tirlogh and Con,
sons of Con. It seems, however, that the enemies of Tirlogh's branch
were on the alert to interrupt his succession to his paternal rights.
The earl was joined by O'Donnel and other native chiefs, the friends
of Tirlogh, and soon set all to rights. He besieged the castle of
Dungannon, and compelled Art O'Neal to submit and give hostages.f

After his return from this expedition, another to Cork took place
in the October of the same year. He compelled the inhabitants both
of Cork and Kinsale to swear allegiance, and bind themselves both by
indenture and hostages, and left an effectual garrison in Cork.J

* Leland, Cox, Ware, Lodge. f Cox. Ware's Antiquities. J Ibid.

GERALD, EIGHTH EARL OF KILDARE. 309

Having1 returned and held a parliament in Dublin, he next, in the
beginning of 14995 marched into Connaught, where there was much
disturbance. There he took and garrisoned the castles of Athleague,
Roscommon, Tulsk, and Castlerea.*

He next held a parliament at his own castle of Castledermot, in
the county »f Kildare, where he made several useful regulations.
Amongst other measures he obtained for the king an impost of a
shilling in the pound on all wares and merchandise, except wine
and oil.f An enactment is also mentioned to enforce the use of
saddles among the nobility, and to compel them to wear their robes
in parliament.

Another violent disturbance broke out in Ulster in the following
year (1500); and the earl marched into the country with speed, and
quickly reduced it to order. He took the castle of Kinard and gave it
into the custody of his nephew Tirlogh O'Niall, and marching to Cork,
he appeased the disaffected spirit which was beginning to show itself
again, by a mixture of severity and kindness. He enlarged the privi-
leges of the city, but he hanged the mayor.

On the 1 8th February, Gerald, eldest son to the earl, was appointed
lord treasurer of Ireland — a fact which may serve to confirm the
impression of his high favour and influence at this period of his life.
This favour, while it helped to repress the hostility of his numerous
enemies, added fuel to their malice, and at last the general ill-will began
to grow to a head. This effect had been retarded by the circumstance
that the barons were unaccustomed to act in concert, having been
hitherto singly equal to maintain their own quarrels with the king's
deputies and 'give disturbance with impunity. The great authority
and active conduct of Kildare had made it dangerous to rebel; and
there was no other Irish baron or chief could venture even a demon-
stration of hostility. Slowly, however, the sense of a common malice
went round, and a combination was formed under the leading of Ulick,
lord Clanricard, a powerful noble whom Kildare had thought to secure
by giving him his daughter in marriage. From this, however, grew
the pretext for dissension: Ulick slighted his wife, and the earl re-
sented his daughter's wrong.

Lord Clanricard was joined by O'Brien, O' Carrol, and many other
powerful chiefs, and they levied an army which the annalists and
historians describe as the largest that had been collected since the
days of Strongbow. Kildare, notwithstanding the great risk of staking
the fortune of his house and the stability of his government on the
event of so formidable a struggle, drew together his own forces. He
was joined by the lords Gormanstown, Slane, Delvin, Killeen, Dunsany,
Howth, Trimleston, &c. ; with these he marched into Connaught. The
armies met on the 19th August, 1504, at Knocktow, near Galway. For
some hours the fight was maintained with equal success and much
bloodshed on both sides; at last, Clanricard's men gave way and
were put to flight with enormous slaughter. The lowest statement

* Cox. Ware's Antiquities.

f Cox dissents from Ware, as to the date of this impost. But the difference u
not material.

310 THE FITZGERALDS.

(probably the most correct) makes the loss of the defeated party 2000*
men, the book of Howth states it 9000, but this Ware considers to be
a mistake. Many prisoners also were taken by the English party,
among whom were two sons of Clanricard. Galway and Athenry
surrendered to the conqueror, who laid waste the country of O' Carrol
on his return.

The result of this victory was alike fortunate for the earl and bene-
ficial to the pale, now once more beginning to show signs of revival.
Kildare celebrated his triumph by giving thirty tons of wine to his
soldiers. He despatched the archbishop of Dublin to carry the account
to king Henry, who in recompense gave him the order of the garter.

From this, Ireland enjoyed an unusual interval of tranquillity. But
in the years 1504 and 1505, this blessing was balanced by a plague of
awful violence and duration. Its effects were aggravated by a famine,
consequent on a wet summer and autumn.

In these and the following years, Kildare exercised his authority in
peace and honour. In 1508, he held a parliament from which he
obtained a subsidy for the king of 13s. 4d. from every 120 acres of
arable land.f

In 1509> he was obliged to invade Ulster, but met with no resistance.
The same year king Henry VII. died, and Kildare was confirmed in
his government by the young king. From this his usual success
attended him until his death, which happened in 1513. As he was
marching against O' Carrol, he was seized with illness at Athy, the
effect of a wound from a shot received some time before from the
O'Mores of Leix, and died after a few days' illness, on the 3d Septem-
ber. His body was carried to Dublin and interred in Christ's Church,
where he had built Mary's chapel the year before.

He is deservedly praised by all the historians who relate his actions,
as the most efficient and useful governor that Ireland had known to
the time of his death. His private ambition and party feeling were
during his lengthened administration, made always subservient to the
interests of the country. His ever prompt activity kept down the
spirit of insurrection by timely resistance ; and the stern decision of an
uncompromising temper made him an object of fear to the disaffected
and of reliance to his friends.

He was thrice married. His first wife died of grief in the year
1495, while he was a prisoner in England; after which he married an
English lady, the daughter of Oliver St John, in the county of Wilts.
He left a numerous issue by each, and was succeeded by his eldest son
Gerald.

In the first years of the reign of Henry VIII. the condition of Ire-
land had undergone no considerable improvement. The king was
wholly engrossed by continental politics, ecclesiastical concerns, and
the complexities of domestic affairs. Ireland was ruled with a slack
yet arbitrary hand. The same implacable and sanguinary feuds sub-
sisted among the Celtic chiefs and lords of the Anglo-Norman race ;

* "Ware says 2000; Cox, four; and adds, "it is prodigious that not one Eng-
lishman was hurt in this might}' battel."
t Ware's Antiquities. Cox, &c.

MAURICE, FIRST EARL OF DESMOND. 311

the same rude morals and manners among the people, at the same time
slavish and insubordinate ; though submissive to the rebel leader and
the domineering lord, impatient of order and intractable to law. Re-
cent disorders and seditious intrigues had spread widely, and the king-
dom was reduced to the verge of total anarchy, — a state (it is true)
not much worse than its general or normal condition in that age ; but
more peculiarly affecting the period of the ninth earl of Kildare and
the personal events we shall have to relate. He too, like his illustrious
father, has left a signal lesson of the " uncertain favour" of princes and
of the caprice of the despot's will.

Potts* of ^esmonb.

THOMAS, second son of Gerald, and younger brother of Maurice hia
successor, got, by marriage, lands in Kerry. John, his son acquired
lands in Desmond by marriage with a female descendant of another
of the heroes of the conquest, was with his son Maurice slain by the
Macarthies at Callan in 1261. On this occasion his grandson, a child
of nine months, was in the confusion taken out of his cradle by a tame
baboon or ape, and, after being exhibited to the astonished citizens
from the steeple of the Abbey of Tralee, restored uninjured. Acquir-
ing from this circumstance the cognomen of Thomas an Appach, he
became powerful as Captain of Desmond, and was styled Prince of
Munster. The elder line having failed in the person of Gerald, who
left his heritage during Thomas' life to his eldest son John, the latter
reuniting these great properties, would have become too powerful for a
subject, when, by an arrangement, the Desmond estates were trans-
mitted by Thomas to Maurice his second son, who after his death was
created Earl of Desmond. The Offally lordship and lands remaining
with John as representing the elder family, he was at an earlier date
raised to the dignity of Earl of Kildare.

MAURICE, FIRST EARL OF DESMOND.

CREATED A. D. 1329. — DIED A. D. 1356.

IN 1329, this nobleman was created earl of Desmond, at the same
time that his son-in-law, Edmund Butler, was raised to the earldom of
Carrick, by Edward II.; by the same patent, the county of Kerry was
confirmed to him and his heirs male, to hold by the service of one
knight's fee. He took an active and efficient part in the war against
Bruce.

It is mentioned that some time in the year 1327, Maurice (not yet
earl of Desmond) took offence at Arnold Poer for calling him a
rhymer, and declared war against him. Maurice was joined by the
Butlers and Berminghams; and many of the Poers and Burkes, who
sided with them, were slain or driven out of Connaught, and their
lands despoiled. The Fitz-Geralds and Butlers increased their force,
and committed such ravages that the country was thrown into the
utmost alarm. Complaints were made to government; these were
met by professions on the opposite side, of the most just and moderate
intentions. They met at Kilkenny, and sought a charter of pardon;

812 THE FITZGERALDS.

of this the lord justice took time to consider, but died before he mado
up his mind.

It was after this that the promotion of Maurice to the earldom took
place. He was become the most powerful subject in Ireland; his
services were many, but not distinguished enough for special notice
here. The unhappy state of the country was such as to render the
wars of chiefs, and the devastation of septs and districts, a thing too
frequent for description ; we can only select such instances as illustrate
the period.

He was summoned by Sir John Darcie, the lord justice in 1330, to
take the field against the Irish insurgents, with a promise of the king's
pay. He gained a victory over the O'Nolans and O'Murroughs,
ravaged their country, and compelled them to give hostages. It was
on this occasion that he first introduced that grievous abuse known by
the name of coigne and livery, afterwards so productive of oppression
and complaint. An arbitrary exaction for the maintenance of soldiers
would, at any time, or however limited by strict discretion and rule,
be felt as a grievance ; but in those days of licentious and unprinci-
pled spoliation, the evil must have been increased by that reckless and
grasping spirit of extortion and violence, to which life and the rights
of property were trifles. This oppressive resource was quickly adopt-
ed by all the barons, and contributed more to repress the prosperity
of the English settlers, on whom its burthen fell, than all the dangers
and disasters they experienced from the hostility of the Irish. It
originated in the penurious policy of the English court ; the drain of
an incessant war was sustained by no adequate supply from England,
and the remedy was but too obvious, and too much a matter of neces-
sity. The soldiers were now supported by quartering them upon the
inhabitants of the district they were sent to protect: under the pre-
tence of this necessity, the passions, cupidity, and reckless licence of a
rude soldiery, abandoned to its own discretion, soon made the remedy
more formidable than the evil : the English settler was quickly made
to feel the insecurity of a condition so far worse than defenceless,
as the false protector, armed with the licence of power, was more sure-
ly fatal than the known enemy. In their despair, numbers fled over to
the Irish, whose ranks they strengthened, and with whom they soon
became assimilated in language and manners. From this fatal date,
the decline of the English interest was progressive for two centuries.
The English were no longer a compact body, united by common in-
terest and the sense of mutual dependence and protection; the little
security to be found was in the protection of the enemy.

From the energy at first derived from this dangerous resource,
Desmond acquired a vigour and efficiency in the field, not to be sus-
tained by more regular and just means, and gained several victories
on a larger scale than was commonly known in these petty wars.

A still more unwise measure of the English court, which had a very
material influence on the fortunes of Desmond, demands our particular
attention, as the commencement of those hapless discontents, which,
perhaps, above all other causes, contributed to the decay of the Eng-
lish settlement.

Edward III., engrossed with projects of aggrandizement, and look-

MAURICE, FIRST EARL OF DESMOND.

313

ing to the utmost resources of men and money that his dominions could
supply for the prosecution of his military enterprises, while he had
little time or thought for the troubled state of Irish politics, was
irritated both at the disorders and the unproductive state of that country ;
and not considering how mainly these were the consequences of his
own neglect, came to an angry and precipitate resolution to proceed by
•violent and extreme steps to the termination of its disorders, instead
of the just and obvious policy of supporting, and at the same time con-
trolling his Irish barons. In place also of protecting, and bringing into
subjection, the native chiefs — and thus, by a well tempered union of
conciliation with irresistible force, gradually bringing the whole to-
gether into one with the rest of his dominions — he abruptly adopted a
system, at the same time harsh and oppressive, while it was inefficient
and not to be put into practice without such efforts as would be suffi-
cient to carry sounder measures into effect.

This precipitate policy was hastened by events which must be ad-
mitted to have placed in a strong point of view the degeneracy of the
settlers ; and on a superficial consideration, appeared to call for the
remedial means chiefly adopted. On the murder of the earl of Ulster,
which occurred in 1338, a confused and angry movement took place
among the Irish baronage ; some espousing the cause of order and
justice, while the turbulent and degenerate habits of others were thus
brought to light. Many of the great settlers were become virtually
Irish chiefs, and in a state of tacit hostility to the laws and interests
of the English settlement. But the greater barons acted with due
regard to justice : Desmond seized and imprisoned Fitz-Maurice, the
lord of Kerry, who sided with the Irish of Munster and Kildare, and
exerted himself with equal vigour and effect for the preservation of
the king's authority in Leinster.

Edward angrily imputed these disorders to his Irish government and
barons, and adopted a course of which the injustice and folly cannot
be too strongly branded by the historian. He declared all suspensions
of debts due to the crown* to be null, and ordered them to be strictly
levied without delay. Many of the greater officers he dismissed; of
some he seized the estates ; but these and other measures of severity,
some of which might be regarded as useful reforms, were trifles com-
pared with the crowning absurdity and injustice of one ordinance,
which we here insert verbatim.

" The king to his trusty and beloved John Darcy, justiciary of Ire-
land, greeting:

" Whereas it appeareth to us and our council, for many reasons,
that our service shall the better and more profitably be conducted in
the said land by English officers having revenues and possessions in
England, than by Irish Englishmen married and estated in Ireland,
and without any possessions in our realm of England; we enjoin you,
that you diligently inform yourself of all our officers greater or lesser
within our land of Ireland aforesaid; and that all such officers bene-
ficed, married and estated in the said land, and having nothing in
England, be removed from their offices ; that you place and substitute

* Unless those under the great seal.

... *• -

- i

314

THE FITZGERALDS.

in their room other fit Englishmen, having lands, tenements, and bene-
fices in England ; and that you cause the said offices for the future to
be executed by such Englishmen, and none other, any order of ours to
you made in contrariwise notwithstanding."*

Such was the first instance of a course of blind and irrespective policy
of which Ireland has too often been the subject — a cruel, unjust, and
short-sighted half-measure, which contemplated the pacification of a
half barbarian country by trampling upon the interests and feelings,
by damping the loyalty and paralyzing the powers of that class in
•which the better part of the wisdom, virtue, civilization, and civil order
of a people must ever reside; and without whose assent and co-
operation no government can have permanence, unless by the most iron
despotism of force. To have carried this grievous injustice into effect,
it would be necessary to suppress altogether the native and English
aristocracy, and crush the nation down into the prostrate level of mili-
tary law ; for a government, proceeding on the systematic contempt of
a proud and wealthy aristocracy, cannot, even in these more orderly
times, subsist in peace. There was then no populace to be worked on
by the varied artifices of modern policy, so as to create a spurious and
frail support, which, though dangerous to society and fatal to the
power that leans on it, can yet be made, in our times, available for the
maintenance of power, — this perilous element did not then exist. To
set aside the aristocracy of a nation was a gross oversight, and this
soon was made to appear: it had immediate and permanent conse-
quences.

The first consequence was the most violent aggravation of the evil,
by rousing the injured barons to resistance. The next and saddest
was a spirit of national animosity and jealousy between two perman-
ent factions thus called into existence — the old settlers and the English
by birth.

The powerful Irish barons were at once placed in opposition to the
crown ; it was no struggle for power or possession, but for the honour
and the rights of their order, in which slackness would be a disgrace
and crime. Desmond took the lead; the barons of the Geraldine
race seconded him with zeal and energy. Sir John Morris, an English
knight, without any pretension either from fortune or ability, was ap-
pointed governor ; and the irritation to the pride of these great chiefs,
thus insulted, was productive of immediate consequences. Desmond at
once made the circuit of his adherents and connexions, conferred with
the nobility, and roused the zeal and excited the fears of the towns ;
so that when the parliament was expected to assemble in Dublin, the
lord justice heard with alarm of a convention of the prelates, nobles,
and commons of the land, assembled at Kilkenny.

It is observed by Leland that the English annalists give a scanty
and insufficient account of this assembly — of which Cox and Campion
give three short sentences, purporting remonstrance against the ineffi-
ciency and corruption of the English governors ; but Leland, whose
success and diligence in searching out the original documentary evi-
dence of Irish history, places him among the chief of our historians,

* Quoted by Leland.

MAURICE, FIRST EARL OF DESMOND.

cites a document found among the close rolls of the 16th year of
Edward III., which he considers as the undoubted act of this assembly.
Of this petition we give Leland's abstract, which indeed leaves no doubt
as to its occasion and source: —

" The petitioners begin with representing the total neglect of forti-
fications and castles, particularly those of the late earl of Ulster, in
Ulster and Connaught, now in the king's custody, but abandoned by his
officers, so that more than a third part of the lands conquered by his
royal progenitors were regained by the Irish enemy; and by their
insolence on the one hand, and the excesses of his servants on the other,
his faithful subjects are reduced to the utmost distress. Other castles,
they observe, had been lost by the corruption of treasurers, who with-
held their just pay from the governors and warders ; sometimes, obliged
them in their necessities to accept some small part of their arrears,
and to give acquittance for the whole ; sometimes substituted in their
place mean and insufficient persons, contented with any wages they
were pleased to allow ; sometime appointed governors to castles never
erected, charging their full pay and disbursing but a trifling part;
that the subject was oppressed by the exaction of victuals never paid
for, and charged at their full value to the crown, as if duly purchased ;
that hostings were frequently summoned by the chief governor without
concurrence of the nobles, and money accepted in lieu of personal ser-
vice; treaties made with the Irish, which left them in possession of
those lands which they had unjustly seized; the attempts of the subjects
to regain them punished with fine and imprisonment; partial truces
made with the enemy, which, while one country was secured, left them
at liberty to infest the neighbouring districts ; the absence and foreign
residence of those who should defend their own lands and seigniories,
ajid contribute to the public aid and service ; illegal seizures of the
persons and properties of the English subjects ; — all these, with various
instances of corruption, oppression, and extortion, in the king's servants,
were urged plainly and forcibly, as the just grounds of discontent.

" But chiefly, and with particular warmth and earnestness, they re-
present to the king that his English subjects of Ireland had been tra-
duced and misrepresented to the throne, by those who had been sent
from England to govern them — men who came into the kingdom with-
out knowledge of its state, circumstances, or interests; whose sole
object was to repair their shattered fortunes ; too poor to support their
state, much less to indulge their passions, until they had filled their
coffers by extortion, to the great detriment and affliction of the people ;
that notwithstanding such misrepresentations, the English subjects of
Ireland had ever adhered in loyalty and allegiance to the crown of
England, had maintained the land for the king and his progenitors,
served frequently both against the Irish and their foreign enemies, and
mostly at their own charges."

From the same author we learn that the answer of Edward was
gracious ; he consented that the grants should be restored, and the
pardons of debts valid, until these causes should be duly investigated.
He was preparing for his expedition into France — a circumstance
which must have much influenced his answer ; and he applied for their
assistance, by leading their forces to join his army.

310 THE FITZGERALDS.

But the spirit he had raised was not to be so put down; his con-
ciliatory reply was not adequately followed up by measures adapted to
allay the pride and jealousy he had raised. It was a little thing to
tell the proud Irish baron that he was not to be robbed under the
sanction of royal authority, when the selection of governors was still
such as too faithfully to reflect the most insulting features of the offen-
sive ordinance.

The measures of Edward were, however, judiciously carried into
effect; and the first consequences must be described as beneficial.
Ufford, an Englishman of vigour and talent, was sent over, and en-
forced the laws of civil order with a high and equal hand. The system
of policy was one which demanded more than ordinary vigour to en-
force, and Ufford went to work with prompt and decisive energy. He
ordered the marchers to their stations ; forbade private wars, or coali-
tions with the enemies of the pale. He summoned Desmond to Dublin
to attend parliament; but Desmond despised the call, and summoned
a parliament of his own. Ufford forbade the attendance of the Irish
nobles and commons; and, collecting his forces, marched at once into
Munster, and seized on the territories of Desmond, whom he thus
compelled to a reluctant submission : with equal alertness he attacked,
seized, and imprisoned Kildare. Desmond was released on the bail of
the earls of Ormonde and Ulster, and twenty-four knights ; but the
uncompromising severity of Ufford disheartened him, and he did not
appear.

The brave Ufford died on the 9th April, 1 346 ;* Sir John Morris
was again appointed, and acted with more lenity ; but an insurrection
broke out in Ulster, and the king sent over first Darcy, and then
Walter de Bermingham. Desmond now took courage to re-appear
upon the scene. He was received with friendly warmth by Berming-
ham, who sent him to England to plead his own grievances and justi-
fications to the royal ear. The occasion was fortunate; Edward
thought of this and all things as they might affect his own projects,
as he was preparing to embark for France. Desmond was retained
in his service, and attended him with a considerable train into France,
receiving promises of the most prompt redress and restoration. He
was present at the siege of Calais ; and the favour of the king pro-
duced for some time a most beneficial effect on the discontented baron-
age of Ireland.

During this time, Desmond received one pound per day for his
expenses, his own estates being under forfeiture. In 1352, they were
restored, with those of other barons who had been dispossessed by
Ufford; and Ireland continued so quiet for some years, that there is
no special record of any interest, until the administration of Sir Thomas
Rokeby, whose strict honour and integrity are celebrated by all histo-
rians ; but he did not understand the feelings and complicated inter-
ests of the country he was sent to govern : and troubles which again
broke out in Ulster, made it necessary to make a more effectual ap-
pointment. Desmond was now in favour, and appeared, from his
power, connexion, and warlike temper, to be the best, suited to meet the

*Cox.

THOMAS, SIXTH EARL OF DESMOND. 317

emergency of the occasion. To him the government was committed.
But, unfortunately for the country, he did not live to fulfil the expec-
tations raised by the firm and vigorous commencement of bis adminis-
tration. He died in the beginning of the year 1356, and left the re-
putation of being " so just a man, that he spared not his own relations
when they were criminal." No small eulogium in such a time.

Desmond died in the castle of Dublin, and was interred in the
church of the friars' preachery of Tralee.

He was thrice married ; by his third wife, daughter to the lord of
Kerry, he left a successor, Gerald, the fourth earl of Desmond.

GERALD, FOURTH EARL OF DESMOND.

DIED A. D. 1397.

THIS earl is not only memorable for the prominent place he held
in the troubled events of Irish history, during his long life — a dis-
tinction more unusual, graces the history of his life. He was among
the learned men of his age, and obtained the popular title of the poet.
Considering the state of poetry then, the honour is doubtful; but
Gerald was evidently a person of some taste and talent. He is said
to have been well versed in mathematics, and was thought by the
people to be a conjuror. He was lord justice in 1367, and distinguish-
ed for diligence and success in preserving the peace of the districts
where his property lay. His death was, in some degree, suitable to
his popular reputation for magic: in 1397, he went away from his
camp, and was seen no more. The conjecture, that he was privately
murdered, admits of little doubt.

THOMAS, SIXTH EARL OF DESMOND.
DIED A.D. 1420.

THE history of this most unfortunate nobleman might, without any
departure from its facts, be easily dilated into a tragic romance.
This is, however, not our design. A brief outline must be sufficient ;
and will add to the conception of the unhappy state of manners and
morals, for which we have chiefly selected the statements of the more
recent memoirs.

Thomas, the sixth earl of Desmond, succeeded his father John,
who was drowned in leading his army across the ford of Ardfinnan, in
the river Suir, in 1399- He was left a minor and very young, and
became an object of dark plots and manoeuvres to his uncle James, an
ambitious, active-spirited, and intriguing character. The license of
the times was such as to leave the weak at the mercy of the strong ;
and for those whose craft or prudence were insufficient to protect
them, there was no safeguard in law, and little refuge in the affection
or honour of those who might despoil them safely. But there seems
to have been in this family a singular prevalence of ambition, tur-

318

THE FITZGERALDS.

bulence, and tendency to lawlessness, that might at first sight lead the
careless observe!- to infer the existence of some family idiosyncrasy
of temper, that incessantly urged its members on some lawless or
eccentric course. But the fact is — and though an obvious fact, it
is worth reflection — that the remote and comparatively Irish con-
nexion and property of this great branch of the Geraldines must have
had the main influence at least in the determination of this temper.
The tendencies of the mind are the results very much of circumstances,
acting in such a manner on a few elementary dispositions, as often to
produce from the very same dispositions the opposite extremes of char-
acter. From hence the dark enigmas of human conduct and the in-
justice of human judgments.

Thomas, earl of Desmond, appears to have been a weak but not
unamiable person, and devoid of the firmness and craft which his time
and situation required. To make these effects the more unfortunate,
his uncle chanced to be unusually endowed with the qualities in which
his nephew was wanting. Lawless, audacious, crafty, and ambitious,
it seems to be a matter of course that he should contemplate the facile
and weak nature of his youthful kinsman as an object of speculation;
and that, seeing the possibility of setting aside one so exposed to the
approach of guile, so accessible to folly and indiscretion, he should
have long made it a principal object of scheme and calculation. Such,
indeed, are the strong moral inferences from the facts.

The occasions thus sought could not long be wanting, and it is
probable that they were well prepared for. The unfortunate youth,
in one of his hunting excursions, was driven by the weather to take
shelter in the house of a tenant of his own, named M'Cormac. There
he fell violently in love with Katharine M'Cormac, the beautiful
daughter of his host. He made his passion known ; but the virtue of
Katharine was proof against such addresses, as it was customary for
persons of her degree to receive from those of the earl's princely
quality. At this remote period, it is impossible to say by what inter-
mediate practices the circumstance may have been improved by his
enemies — how far underhand agency may have worked on the girl or
on the young lord. No supposition is necessary to account for the
impulse of romantic passion, the self-reliance of beauty, or the firm-
ness of female virtue; but we must confess a disposition to suspect a
more artful and complicated chain, because such is also but too
derivable from the position of all the parties of this romance of anti-
quity.

Whatever was the working of circumstances, the facts are certain.
Thomas married the fair Katharine M'Cormac. The consequences
quickly followed, and were so far beyond the probable effects of such
an act, that they seem to justify the suspicions which attribute the
whole transaction to an intrigue. The outcry of his dependents,
followers, and relations, immediately arose, to a degree of animosity
not quite to be accounted for from the fact or the prejudices of the
time. A time so lawless, of morals so coarse, and manners so unre-
fined, was not likely to produce so violent and universal a sense of
resentment on account of a misalliance, humiliating to the pride of
family, even though such a feeling was the best developed sentiment

JAMES, SEVENTH EARL OF DESMOND.

319

of that barbaric age. Such may indeed have been the fact; but it
seems to demand too much allowance for any supposable public
feeling.

James, the ambitious uncle, of course assumed the tone of one
deeply offended and outraged by a match so derogatory to his family.
It seemed but natural for him to vent his spleen, to express his con-
tempt and indignation, to lament the family honour stained in its
representative, and the followers and subjects dishonoured in their
leader. There was a fertile topic of popular indignation in the eleva-
tion of a dependent to the invidious distinction of a superior, to be
worshipped and honoured by those who were her superiors and equals.
And every one is aware, for it is the main lesson of modern history,
that no sentiment can be too trivial, or opinion too fallacious, to con-
vulse the public mind if managed with sufficient address. The ferment
swelled on and became inflamed to fury under the dexterous influence
of the crafty and specious James. A formidable party was soon raised,
and the unhappy youth was obliged to escape from his own territories.
Probably the opinion of the large majority of orderly persons was in
his favour: but orderly people are too passive to produce any public
effect ; the voice of the public is seldom heard above the uproar of the
unprincipled and disorderly — the froth and scum that floats upon its
surface. A few turbulent spirits were enough for the earl ; arid when
the unfortunate youth had not prudence and firmness to stand his
ground and fight his own battle, these daily increased; and the feeling
became general because it was unopposed.

Thrice earl Thomas ventured back in the vain hope that the
clamour had died away, and each time he was obliged to fly from a
fiercer appearance of hostility. His uncle openly took the lead in
enmity ; and at last so effectually terrified him, that he was compelled
to save himself by a formal surrender of his title and territories.

There could be indeed little regard to law, or any principle of
justice, at a time when such a surrender was formally made in the
presence of some of the noblest and most dignified persons then living.
The earl of Ormonde was a witnessing party to the transaction. One
consequence of this, however, was the just stipulation by which the
son of the young earl was endowed with the manors of Moyallow,
Broghill, and Kilcolnan.*

The deposed earl went to conceal his shame and grief at Rouen, in
Normandy. There he died in 1420. His son, Maurice, was ancestor
to the Fitz- Geralds of Broghill; and John, his second son, to the
Adairs of Ireland and Scotland-!

JAMES, SEVENTH EARL OF DESMOND.

DIED A. D. 1462.

THE circumstances related in the previous memoir form a consis-
tent portion of the history of James, the succeeding earl of Desmond,

* Lodge.

t Ibid.

320

THE FITZGERALDS.

and settle the propriety of following them up with the remainder of
his life. This must now be briefly* done. His first care was to
obtain a parliamentary confirmation of a title thus unfairly acquired.
This was not a matter of any difficulty. His popularity, it will be
easily understood, was great in Ireland; for the elements of his
character were of the most popular kind — craft, audacity, and restless
turbulence. He was a dangerous enemy and a useful friend. He
gained the favour of the English sovereigns by his activity and success
in quelling such disturbances as were not raised by his own ambition.
He was favoured by the earl of Ormonde, who stood high with the
kings of the house of Lancaster. From him he obtained the seneschal-
ship of his lordships of Imokilly, Inchicoin, and the town of Youghall.
On the 12th of June, 1438, Robert Fitz-Geoffry de Cogan granted
to him all his lands in Ireland, being half the county of Cork; of
which, by virtue of a letter of attorney, he took possession in the year
following.* Of this transaction, a probable conjecture is, that the
grant was forged. It was prejudicial to the legal claims of the De
Courcys and Carews. Thus raised to wealth and territorial power
beyond the rank of a subject, he lived in kingly though rude splendour,
and exercised uncontrolled a regal power over these large territories.
To screen himself the more effectually from all question, he kept
aloof from the seat of administration, and employed his influence at
court, through the friendship of the earl of Ormonde, so effectively as
to obtain, in 1444, a patent for the government of the counties of
Limerick, Waterford, Cork, and Kerry,f with a licence, on the ground
of this duty, to absent himself during life from all parliaments, send-
ing a sufficient proxy ; and to purchase any lands he pleased, by what
service soever they were holden of the king.J

He married a daughter of Ulick de Burgo (Mac William Eighter),
by whom he left two sons and two daughters, and died in 1462. He
was buried in the friary at Youghall.

THOMAS, EIGHTH EAEL OF DESMOND.

BEHEADED A. D. 1467.

THIS nobleman was appointed lord deputy to the duke of Clarence,
in 1463. After the death of James, earl of Ormonde, an act was
passed by the triumphant Yorkists for the attainder of many of his
family. His brother escaped to Ireland with many followers ; who,
being proscribed in England, hoped to find refuge under his protec-
tion in Ireland. He soon collected a formidable force, and levied
war against the deputy, Sir Rowland Fitz-Eustace. The earl of
Desmond collected twenty thousand men, and after some checks,
attributable to his want of military skill, came to an engagement, in
which he defeated the insurgents, and completely scattered and subdued
them.

In consequence of this great service, Desmond was appointed

* Lodge.

t Ibid.

Ibid.

THOMAS, EIGHTH EARL OF DESMOND.

321

deputy. His success in the field, and the elevation which followed,
were too much for his weak and proud mind. Attributing all to his
own valour, spirit, and greatness, his indiscretion was inflamed to a
rash confidence, which was increased by flattery. His large terri-
tories swarmed forth a crowd of enthusiastic Irish, who, considering
him as their countryman, were themselves elated with the pride of his
glory and power, and fed his eyes and ears with daily admiration.
But his conduct was not the less subject to the scrutiny of rivals, who,
while jealous of his favour, were resentful of a success of which they
felt his character to be undeserving. This is indeed the most bitter
sting of jealousy: men seldom admit a sentiment of envy, when they
admit answerable merit.

It was immediately after that he received the deep mortification of
a defeat, of which the result has been related in the notice last before
this. In addition to the defeat, he had the mortification to be obliged
to compromise matters with O'Brien, the southern chief, by allowing
him to retain his conquests, and a pension of 60 marks from the city
of Limerick. He now became the object of loud accusation, and his
enemies began to shake his power on every side. His rash wars and
disgraceful treaties, his Irish friendships and connexions, his oppres-
sions, and the intolerable insolence of his pretensions, were registered
against him in malice. He, by his conduct, added weight to the
machinations of his enemies; and at last, by a rash quarrel with the
bishop of Meath, he made a powerful enemy, who collected the com-
plaints of his enemies, and carried them to the English court.

Desmond's great popularity was, however, sufficient as yet to sus-
tain his imprudence. He held a parliament in Wexford which passed
an address to the king, in which his successes were magnified, and his
failures and follies suppressed. With this he went to England, and
was received favourably by king Edward. His enemies were obliged
to treasure their malice for a season, and he returned in high favour
to his government.

His conduct on his return was in some respects more cautious. He
was more studious of the English interests, and made many regulations
favourable to them.

But matters were working for his ruin. Holinshed notices a tradi-
tion, that when in England he had, with his characteristic incaution,
expressed some remarks reflecting on the family of the lady Elizabeth
Gray, in a conversation with the king, who was at the time bent on
making her his queen. This the king afterwards told her, and Des-
mond was never forgiven. In aggravation of this offence, he was in
the habit of sneering when she was spoken of in company, and fre-
quently called her a " taylor's wife." Her pride and her fears were
equally excited. Her marriage with the king was an object of discon-
tent to the English nobility ; and she exerted herself with industrious
malice for the ruin of one whose indiscretion had nigh been fatal to
her ambition, and might yet injure her family. The occasion soon
presented itself. Her father was to be raised to sudden honours ; and
having been made earl of Rivers, was to be further promoted by the
high office of lord constable. The earl of Worcester held the office,
but willingly resigned it, and was in recompense appointed lord deputy

322 THE FITZGERALDS.

in Ireland. It is thought that in coming over, Worcester was privately
pledged to the adoption of the queen's resentment; and the supposition
is affirmed by his conduct.

His appointment excited Desmond's resentment, and we may infer
that it was rash and outrageous. It was alleged that he intended to
set up for the independent sovereignty of Ireland. Many of the new
deputy's acts were in themselves calculated to excite his anger, and
shock his pride. Among others, his treaties were cancelled, his friends
prosecuted, and his enemies supported. The parliament was adjourned
to Drogheda, where it might be unbiassed by the influence of his sup-
porters, and an act of attainder was passed against him.

Habitual impunity, and the confidence acquired by long continued
command, made Desmond bold. He could not conceive himself to be
in danger. His immediate step was one of singular daring: he at
once, without any reflection on the subject, repaired to the earl of
Worcester to justify himself: he was seized without delay, and in-
stantly beheaded.

MAURICE, TENTH EARL OF DESMOND.

DIED A.D. 1520.

THE earls of Desmond, although possessing power, influence, and
extent of territory inferior to none of the great barons of English race
in Ireland; yet from the remoteness of their possessions, had latterly
been less concerned in the affairs and changes of the pale. As the
intercourse of the English became more contracted with the decline
of their power and the diminution of their territory, the lords of Des-
mond became comparatively isolated in the remote province of Mun-
ster; and began to perceive the wisdom of keeping their power and
persons safe from the arbitrary jurisdiction of the royal governors.
The seizure and sudden execution of the eighth earl, father to the
Maurice who is here to be noticed, may have much contributed to
teach this lesson. The consequence was, that although they occasion-
ally joined in insurrectionary movements, yet they neither exerted
themselves prominently, nor were strictly called to account.

Maurice was son to Thomas, the eighth earl, of whom we have
already made mention.* On the execution of Thomas, he was suc-
ceeded by James, the ninth earl, elder brother to Maurice. But this
James, after twenty years spent in honour and prosperity, was mur-
dered by his own servants, in his house at Rathkeale, in the county of
Limerick, in the year 1487. Maurice succeeded. His first care was
to take the plotter of the murder, Shane Mantagh, whom he put to
death.

Maurice, though incapacitated from personal exertion by lameness,
being obliged to be carried in a horselitter, was called Bellicosus,
from his warlike character and successes. In 1487, he gained two

* Page 320.

DONALD O'DONELL, CHIEF OF TYRCONNEL.

323

battles, sufficiently remarkable to be noticed by most Irish annalists
and historians. In one of these he defeated and slew Murchard
O'Carrol, chief of Ely, with his brother. In the other, he in like

manner, defeated and slew Dermod Macarthy of Desmond victories

which though not gained in the English cause, yet as Leland remarks,
contributed to the security of the English pale.

In 1497, he joined Warbeck, and besieged Waterford; but was
obliged to raise the siege. Soon after he made a formal submission
to the king, who was probably more pleased by the submission, than
offended by the crime ; he not only forgave Desmond, but granted
him "all the customs, cockets, poundage, prize wines, of Limerick,
Cork, Kinsale, Baltimore, and Youghall, with other privileges and
advantages."

Maurice died at Tralee, in 1520, where he was buried in the house
of the friars' preachers. He left an only son, who succeeded him.

THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.
DONALD O'DONELL, CHIEF OF TYRCONNEL.

DIED A. D. 1456. l".-i

THIS descendant of an ancient Irish race, at this period, beginning
to take a more prominent place in the annals of Ireland, was elected
chief of Tyrconnel in 1454. His competitor Rory O'Donell, was dis-
satisfied at the choice of the sept. In some time the chief was made
prisoner by O'Doherty, and confined in the castle of the Island.
Rory now thought that so good an opportunity of rectifying the elec-
tion of his race, by a method at that time not unfrequent in Irish
elections, immediately collected his friends, and betook himself to the
place with the design to slay the chief. He set fire to the gate and
stairs of the tower, and, but for an accident, the result of his over zeal, was
in a fair way to effect his purpose. O'Donell, who saw the proceeding
from within, very excusably devised a plan to interrupt his kinsman's
patriotic enterprise ; he prevailed on his keepers to take off the irons
with which he was bound, and immediately betook himself to the top
of the tower : there he stood in view of his enemy. Rory was grati-
fied by a sight, which gave him assurance, that the victim of his
princely ambition was in his power: he therefore approached in
eager haste to urge his people, and inspect the state of the interior,
that his rival might not live a moment longer than could be helped.
But his rival was at the same moment busy with notions of nearly the
same kind: in the midst of his sanguinary eagerness, as he gazed on
the subsiding flames which delayed his vengeance, poor Rory's ambi-
tion and resentment were suddenly annihilated by an enormous stone
which descended from his rival's hands and stretched him lifeless at the
base of the smoking tower. The chief did not live long to profit by
this terrible retaliation. He died in 1456.

324

THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL.

A. D. 1505.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL was more successful than the unfortunate per-
son of his race whose fate we had to describe in our last notice. He
succeeded to the chieftainship in 1461, by deposing Tirlogh, who had
succeeded Donald in 1456. A quarrel between his sons led to his own
deposition in 1497, when he was succeeded by his son Con : but Con's
usurpation was brief; his violent death, a few months after, placed his
father again at the head of the O'Donells. He filled this honourable
station till 1505, when he died in the 78th year of his age.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL, LAST CHIEF OF TYRCONNEL.

BORN A. D. 1571 — DIED, A. D. 1602.

As we shall have to relate the particulars of the war in Ulster, which
occupied the latter years of the reign of queen Elizabeth, with great
detail, in our memoir of Hugh, earl of Tyrone, whose actions
occupy the main position in this period of Irish history; we have,
in this life, thought it advisable to adhere as nearly as we can to
the statements and spirit of the ancient document from which it
is mainly drawn. This account, yet unpublished, and only half
translated from the original Irish, was written by the secretary of
O'Donell ; and, though evidently the production of one who saw with
a partial eye the characters and events which he describes — an
objection common to all contemporary history — yet unquestionably,
his account must be considered to be a faithful and honest representa-
tion of his own impressions, which were those of the Irish of his day,
and must be allowed to contain true statements of the facts of which
he was the witness, and the reports and opinions which passed cur-
rent in the sphere of his observation. Both the translation and the
original are preserved in the library of the Royal Irish Academy.

Sir Hugh O'Donell had been always on the most amicable terms
with the English government; his sons were four — Hugh Roe, Rory,
Manus, and Cahveen. Among the tribes of Tyrconnel, there was a
lively competition for the fosterage of the eldest, Hugh Roe ; and he
was intrusted to O'Doherty, a chief, descended from the stock of
O'Niall; and, according to the ancient biographer from whom these
particulars are drawn, there was a prophetic expectation that great
and singular events were to await on his maturer years. As he grew
to man's estate, these expectations were strengthened by the promise of
his youth: at the early age of fifteen, his singular accomplishments of
mind and body were the theme of universal wonder ; and his reputation
for every gift that his age knew how to appreciate, was spread over
the five provinces of Ireland.

The most unquestionable tribute to his growing reputation was,
however, the apprehension which soon began to be entertained by
the English government. According to the biographer, they feared

HUGH EOE O'DONELL. 325

the result of the union likely to be established by fosterage, (a bond
more strong than blood,) between this young chief and the family
of Niall: and the more so as Hugh Roe's sister was the wife of the earl
of Tyrone. Repeated complaints against this earl had been made to
the government; and, though at the time submissive to them, he
was yet an object of suspicion and fear. It appeared, therefore, on all
accounts, desirable to secure the districts of Donegal and Derry, bv
obtaining possession of Hugh Roe — yet a boy, but likely to become a
restless, ambitious, and able enemy.

On these grounds, Sir John Perrot and his council came to the re-
solution of seizing the youth. It was the opinion of some of the council
that a force should be sent into Tyrconnel for this purpose ; but Sir
John alleged that it would demand an army of between 2,000 and 3,000
men. A stratagem was therefore resolved on. The following plan
was accordingly devised and effected: — a ship was sent laden with
wine, chiefly sack, of which the Irish were fond. The captain was
ordered to sail and take up the nearest position he could to the house
of O'Donell, and to manage matters so as to inveigle him on board.
The vessel sailed, and arriving in the harbour of Swilly, anchored op-
posite Rathmullin, which stood on the sea-shore. The captain next
continued to spread the report of his cargo, and soon the people flocked
in from every side to buy his wines. It was, most probably, accord-
ing to their expectations, that Hugh came on a visit to Dundonald,
the castle of M'Swiney, and a message was immediately dispatched to
the ship for a supply of wine to entertain the guest. The captain sent
back word that there was now only enough of wine remaining for the
use of the crew, and that he could not dispose of any ; but that if the
gentlemen would come on board, he would willingly entertain them,
and give them as much as they could drink. M'Swiney, the master
of the fort, vexed at the refusal, advised Hugh O'Donell, his lord, to
accept of the invitation. Hugh, who had come there on a truant ex-
cursion from the constraint of his governors and teachers, needed no
better sport ; and the party visited the ship with the design of making
the captain's wine pay for the refusal. Hugh had been accompanied
by other noble youths of the O'Niall family : the sons of the famous
Shane O'Neale, whose tale we shall have presently to relate.

Taking a boat, the party rowed over to the ship. The captain receiv-
ed Hugh Roe, M'Swiney, and the most distinguished of the party, but
refused the rest ; and a plentiful entertainment was followed by a rapid
circulation of the wine cup, until the deluded guests were become in-
capable of resistance. In the mean time their arms had been secured,
the hatches shut down, and no means of escape left, when the crew
collected round the party, and told them they were prisoners.
M'Swiney, and a few of the party were sent on shore ; and we are in-
formed by the MS. biographer, that the report was soon spread, and
the people crowded to the shore to rescue their chief: but in vain —
the vessel was already out at sea. Hostages were offered and refused.

The vessel reached Dublin ; and Hugh, after being brought before
Sir John and the council, was confined in the castle. Here he remained
three years and three months.* Sir John Perrot left Ireland in

*MS.

326 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

1588; and at his departure left Hugh Roe O'Donell together with
several others of his kindred in confinement, as pledges for the peace of
Tyrconnel. While Hugh was thus in a state of constraint so galling
to his spirit, the resentment occasioned by his capture was working
into a flame; and the north of Ireland was growing into a state of exas-
peration, which was the origin of the subsequent bloody and expensive
rebellion in Tyrone.* Hugh was, in the mean time, heated with plans of
escape, and schemes of future vengeance. But to escape was no easy mat-
ter. Every night he was shut up in one of those close and dreary cells,
which yet remain in the ruins of ancient dungeons. A wide fosse,
filled with water, surrounded the castle; and the only outlet, over a
narrow wooden bridge, was strongly guarded.

In spite "of these precautions, a scheme of escape was planned by
O'Donell and his companions. By a long rope, they let themselves
down from the battlements on a dark night, before their hour of sepa-
ration; and by contriving to fasten the door of the enclosure, so that
the guards could not get out, until assisted by the citizens from with-
out, they contrived to evade all immediate pursuit, and to reach the
Dublin mountains. Then, however, Hugh Roe, after suffering great
hardships from the badness of his shoes and the tenderness of his
feet, found that he could go no farther, and took refuge with Felim
O'Toole, who had been some time before his fellow-prisoner, and
had professed great friendship for him. The pursuit was, however, so
warm, that O'Toole was deterred by his fears from harbouring his
friend ; and worse motives than fear probably influenced him, when he
resolved to give him up to his enemies. This design, which no ex-
cuse can clear of its baseness, he effected ; and O'Donell was once more
consigned to the hardships which were aggravated by increased cau-
tion and suspicion.

A year of dreary confinement elapsed, when in December, 1592,
Hugh Roe resolved on another effort for liberty. It was the feast of
Christmas ; and his keepers had, perhaps, indulged in the festivities
of the season too freely for their charge, and Hugh Roe saw, and
seized upon, the opportunity for escape. According to the minute
detail of our ancient authority, he first proceeded with his companions
to the refectory, where they stole off their fetters. They then went
to the jakes, taking with them a long rope, by which they let them-
selves down through the jakes into the deep ditch that fenced the
fortress all around. From this they crossed over to the other
mound on the opposite side of the ditch! ! Having cleared all impedi-
ments, they were under the unpleasant necessity of throwing off their
defiled upper garments: but the danger of re-capture was greatly
lessened, both by the darkness, and also by the circumstance of the
streets being still crowded with people who were visiting from house
to house. Advancing silently and swiftly, Hugh Roe and his com-
panions— of whom the chief were Henry and Art O'Neale, the sons of
Shane O'Neale — soon cleared the city ; and, as on the former occasion,
made their way over hedge and ditch to the mountains.

It was, perhaps, also in favour of their escape, though a sad aggra-
vation of their hardships, that the night came on with a drizzling

* MS.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL.

327

tempest of rain and driving snow, which chilled their half-naked
bodies, and made the way slippery and difficult. As they reached the
mountains Art O'Neale became severely fatigued; and O'Donell, who
had, as yet, suffered least, endeavoured, with the help of a servant,
who was their companion, to support him up the hill : the effort was
severe, and the whole party became so worn, that when they found a
high ledge of rock on the summit of one of the hills, they were glad
to rest themselves beneath its shelter.

From this they sent on the servant to Glenmalur, to inform Feagh
M'Hugh O'Byrne of their situation, and to desire refuge. On receiv-
ing their message, O'Byrne selected a party of the stoutest of his people,
and sent them off with all necessaries to the relief of the party.

Hugh Roe and his suffering companions had, in the mean time,
yielded to the dreadful influence of cold, and lain down in their half-
naked state, to be covered with freezing snow. When the party dis-
patched by O'Byrne came up, they were found nearly insensible ; and
for some time resisted all efforts to rouse them from a sleep which,
had it been protracted but a little longer, must have ended in death.
In the language of the old biographer, " the sleeping coverlet that en-
veloped their tender skin, and the bolster that supported their heads
was a high roll of white-bordered hail, freezing on all sides of them ;
covering their light vests and shirts of fine thread, encompassing their
bodies, their well-proportioned thighs, their wooden shoes, and their
feet, so that they appeared to those that came in search of them, not
like men, but as sods of earth after being rolled in the snow; for
there was no motion in their members, and they were lifeless as if they
were really dead." Art O'Neale was past recovery; but Hugh Roe
gradually revived, so as to be able to swallow a portion of the ardent
spirit which they poured into his mouth. He quickly regained his
strength, but his feet were chilled beyond the power of any remedy
they could apply, and they were under the necessity of carrying him
away to Glenmalur.

In Glenmalur, he continued for some time concealed in a private
house, in the covert of a thick wood, where the physician that was
employed to heal his frost-bitten feet might have constant egress, and
also where he might be free from the noise and bustle of a small fort,
during his illness. But his safety was sedulously watched over and
all his wants supplied by the care of O'Byrne. A messenger was
dispatched to his guardian and kinsman, Hugh O'Neale, and it was
not long before he was sent for. He was, however, not yet healed,
and it was found necessary to lift him on his horse. O'Byrne sent a
strong guard with him, to protect him until he should have passed the
Liffey, at all the fords of which strong guards were posted by govern-
ment, which, having received information of the place of O'DonelTs
concealment, made arrangements to intercept him. Notwithstanding
these precautions, his party crossed the Liffey, near Dublin, without
being perceived.

Having passed this ford, the party separated, and Hugh remained
alone with O'Hogan, the servant who had been sent for him. This
man was a confidential servant of Hugh O'Neale ; he could speak
English, and was commonly sent by his master to Dublin, to com-

328 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

municate with his numerous English friends. He was, therefore, here
a useful guide, and knew well how to avoid real danger, and seize
with confidence the safest ways. Travelling through the night, they
crossed the county of Meath, and near morning, came to the river
Boyne, near Drogheda. Their way lay through this town, but they
feared the risk of being recognised, and therefore they turned from
the road, towards the banks of the river, where there was a poor
fisherman's hut. The man was at the moment loading his boat, when
the fugitives calling him aside, asked him to row them across, promis-
ing a recompense ; he agreed, and landing them on the other side,
received a liberal reward. In gratitude for this, the poor man then
re-crossed the river, and brought their horses through the town, to
where they waited at the landing-place.

They rode on a little way, until they came to the dwelling of a
wealthy Englishman, who fortunately chanced to be a steadfast friend of
the earl of Tyrone. Here they entered freely, and were received with
all hospitable care. A secret chamber was fitted for Hugh Roe, and
he was enabled to rest that day and the following, after all his fatigue.
On the evening of the next day, as it grew dusk, they once more
mounted their horses, and began their journey over the hill of Slieve
Breagh, in the county of LoutL, which they crossed, until they came to
Dundalk. It was, fortunately, still early in the morning, and they
were thus enabled to cross the town without being noticed; this
course they preferred, as they were aware that the English had
stationed soldiers to watch for Hugh Roe on either side, wherever
there was any possibility of his passing ; but it struck Hugh that they
would not suspect so bold a course as that which he now wisely select-
ed. They passed through, therefore, without any halt, and felt a sense
of thankful security that the danger was now all over. They stood on
the territory of Hugh O'Neale, earl of Tyrone. It is needless to
pursue the remainder of their progress from friend to friend, until they
reached their immediate destination, the abode of the earl. He, though
rejoiced to see Hugh Roe, was compelled to observe a strict secrecy
during his guest's sojourn, as he was himself in subjection to the
English government. Nothing was, however, neglected to contribute
to the comfort and refreshment of Hugh Roe, who remained with his
kinsman until he was quite recovered from all sense of fatigue. We
shall not follow him in the short eventless journey which brought him
to his own father's castle, at Ballyshannon, on the river Erne. Here
he was received with enthusiasm by the people of his own tribe, who
honoured him as their future prince.

These people were at the time in a state of great distress. O'DonelFs
father was very old, and little capable of the active efforts necessary
to keep his own people in subjection, or to repress the incursions of
the English from the province of Connaught, The biographer of
O'Donell mentions, that a party of English had taken possession of the
monastery of the order of St Francis, which stood near O'Donell's;
they amounted to two hundred men, under the command of captains
Willes and Conville. From the stronghold thus seized, they made
plundering parties, and exercised considerable power over the country
According to the Irish biographer, O'Donell sent word to them to

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 329

leave the monastery, to quit the district of his father, and leave all
their plunder behind. To this they felt themselves under the neces-
sity of submitting, and their submission was attributed to the terror of
the youthful chieftain's name and reputation; but it is probable, that
having, with so small a force taken up the position, on the ground
when there was no danger from the divided and dispirited population
of the surrounding country — they had the sagacity to estimate justly
the change of circumstances attending on the new enthusiasm, union
and spirit, awakened by the presence of a spirited young leader. Pre-
paratory to this message, Hugh Roe called upon the people of Tyr-
connel to meet, and they were fast flocking in from every side.

Some months, however, elapsed before Hugh Roe found himself in
a condition for any decided step. His feet were yet unhealed, and he
was obliged by his ulcerated chilblains, to submit to a tedious confine-
ment under the care of his physicians ; and it was in opposition to
their advice, that, when the spring was far advanced, he again sent
forth a summons to the chiefs and people of Tyrconnel, to meet him
on the west side of a lofty hill in Donegal. The ancient MS. pro-
ceeds to enumerate at length, the numerous chiefs who flocked together
at the summons ; amongst the assembly were his father and mother,
a woman distinguished for her masculine virtues and political ability.
It was, perhaps, by the influence of this lady, that on this occasion it
was unanimously agreed to by the assembly, with the consent of his
old father, to raise Hugh Roe to the chieftainship. He was, therefore,
solemnly inaugurated on the spot. Before he allowed the force, thus
brought together, to separate, Hugh Roe determined on a probationary
essay of his strength in an expedition into the neighbouring territory of
Cincal Owen, the clan of Tirlogh Lynnogh O'Neale, who was then
hostile to O'Donell's tribe, as well as to the earl of Tyrone. We shall
not delay to describe particulars, which were in no way memorable;
nor shall we detail a second incursion into the same district, when the
conquering progress of O'Donell was stayed by the remonstrance of a
chief who asserted the claim of having been once his fosterer: on
which, the chief returned home to Donegal, where he was again com-
pelled to place himself under the care of his physicians for two months.
At the end of this time, he once more collected his men and invaded
the same territory, and marching on to Strabane, he set fire to the town.
They here found and drove away a large prey of horses, and returned
home unmolested by Tirlogh Lynnogh and the English party which
he entertained in his castle of Strabane.

The earl of Tyrone, in the mean time, made a journey to Dublin,
where lord Fitz- William was lord-justice, and made an earnest appli-
cation in behalf of O'Donell, that he should be admitted to the king's
peace. The lord-justice assented, and a meeting between him and
O'Donell was appointed at Stradbally. O'Donell was found by the
earl on his sick bed ; the physicians, unable to prevent the spreading
of the dreadful ulcers on his feet, were obliged to have recourse to a
desperate remedy, and his great toes were both amputated. It was
with no small difficulty that he was persuaded to consent to the ar-
rangement made by his kinsman; but he yielded, and the meeting
took place, when he was received with kindness by the lord-justice,

330 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

who, considering his present illness, visited him in his own quarters.
The arrangement was then satisfactorily completed, and a protection,
dictated by the earl of Tyrone, was subscribed by the lord-justice and
council.

The result was, in other respects, satisfactory to O'Donell ; the tribes
of Cincal Conail came in to proffer their submission, and agreed to
pay him his dues as their rightful king. O'Donell, therefore, now
began to govern his extensive territories according to the ancient laws
of the land. At this period, his historian, the eye-witness of his life and
deeds, gives this quaint account of his character. " Hugh O'Donell,
on the very first year of his government, was popular, familiar, joyous,
progressive, attentive, devastating, invasive, and destructive; and in
these qualities he continued to increase every year to the end of his
days."*

It was not in the nature of O'Donell to remain in tranquillity. The
peace he had made was politic, but his heart still burned with the
sense of those injuries, of which he bore the lasting marks about him.
He had now settled his affairs on the securest footing, by a peace with
his troublesome neighbour Tirlogh Lynnogh ; and, feeling himself free
to pursue his favourite design, he soon began to lay broad and deep
foundations for war against the English government. With this view,
he sent the bishop of Kilala as his ambassador to Spain; he also sent
active envoys into Scotland, and took every means to excite and com-
bine the restless and turbulent spirits around him, into a participation
of his purpose. Of these, Hugh M'Guire, the chief of a district near
Lough Erne, a man of daring character, was easily roused by the
secret instigation of O'Donell, to collect his dependents, and make an
assault on a strong place held by the English. M'Guire, by the
friendly aid of a dark morning, surprised a patrol, of which he slew
seven men, with their officer, " William Clifford." The incident drew
down a destructive retaliation; "the lord-deputy sent a strong body of
men under the command," writes the old biographer, " of the earl of
Tyrone, who was not much pleased with the office." This force meet-
.ing M'Guire and his men at the ford of Ath Chuile nain, a river
running from Lough Erne, gave them a severe and decisive overthrow.
" The Irish," writes the biographer, " were unprepared to oppose the
English with their exotic armour, their pikes of blue iron, and their
guns of granulated sparks," &c. They were completely routed. The
earl of Tyrone considered that his own doubtful fidelity was concealed
by a wound which excused his inactivity to the English. The deputy
recalled his army, having left a small party to protect one of the
M'Guires, who was at enmity with his kinsman.

O'Donell, all this time, concealed his designs by a politic reserve,
and as they did not attack himself, avoided the useless risk of his plan,
by any premature display of hostility. In this prudent course he was
confirmed by the advice of his friend the earl, with whom he held an
intercourse by secret messengers.f

In 1594, the lord-justice marched by surprise into the county of Fer-
managh, and took the castle of Hugh M'Guire, without resistance, and

*MS., R. I. A., p. 41. f MS.

. HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 331

this he garrisoned with thirty men. O'Donell began to feel ashamed
of his prudent delays, and, collecting a strong body of men, he laid
siege to the fortress of Eniskillen. While he was thus engaged, he
received a message from the Scottish leaders, M'Donald and M'Leod,
to inform him of their having landed with five hundred men, and de-
siring his immediate presence. O'Donell, after some hesitation, left
his army under the walls of Eniskillen, and went to meet his allies.
The appearance of the Scotch is described with amusing accuracy, by
the biographer, who probably accompanied his lord on the occasion.
" The outward clothing they wore, was a mottled garment, with
numerous colours, hanging in folds to the calf of the leg, with a girdle
round the loins, over the garment. Some of them with horn-hafted
swords, large and military, over their shoulders. A man, when he
had to strike with them, was obliged to apply both his hands to the
haft. Others with bows, well polished, strong, and serviceable, with
long twanging, hempen strings, and sharp-pointed arrows that whizzed
in their flight."*

Meantime, the English governor had sent a strong party to the re-
lief of Eniskillen ; they were intercepted by M'Guire, who lay in am-
bush for them near a difficult ford. A sharp conflict ensued, in which
the English were worsted, and compelled to retire, leaving behind the
provisions which they were bringing to the relief of the fort. From
this encounter, the ford received the name of the Ford of Biscuits
(Beal-aha-nam-riscoid).^ The scene of this fray was in the hills between
Cavan and Leitrim. George Eingham, who led the English party,
with difficulty escaped over the heights, and made his way to Sligo;
in consequence of this disaster, the castle of Eniskillen was surrender-
ed to M'Guire.

O'Donell, with his allies, remained for some months unoccupied in
the vicinity of Lough Erne, but in continual expectation of an attack
from the lord-justice. This nobleman was by no means master of the
means for putting a sufficient force in motion, and perceived that the
most efficient course must be, to let the armament of the Tyrconnel
chief consume its strength in quiet. Accordingly, after continuing
encamped from August to October, O'Donell found it necessary to
dissolve for the season his expensive armament; and having paid the
Scotch their hire, he dismissed them till the beginning of the next
summer.

Early in the spring of 1594, O'Donell received strong and pressing
applications from the chiefs of Connaught, who swarmed to his castle,
and represented the entire and melancholy subjugation of that province.
It was completely held in awe by the numerous English garrisons by
which all its strong positions were taken up, under the command of
Sir Richard Bingham. The discontent of the native chiefs was com-
pelled to be still ; but they looked with a stern and gloomy anxiety on
the conduct and character of O'Donell, as offering a hope of vengeance,
though it should bring no redress. O'Donell, on his part, was not be-
hind them in the same vindictive craving. We are told by his faith-
ful and friendly biographer, that " his hatred and rage against the

* MS. p. 53. t MS. ib.

332 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

English was such, that it was easy to tempt him to pillage and
plunder them for the defence of the others."* He therefore entered
with the full animosity of his temper and character, into the spirit of
the Connaught chiefs, and planned his first attack on Rath Crochan,
in " the very centre of the English, where they had collected their
herds and cattle."f The principal positions of the English in Con-
naught were well selected, in the most difficult passes; the old his-
torian describes them by their ancient denominations: " in the castle on
the banks of the old river from which flows the flood, that is after it,
called the Sligo"J — the fortress of Ballimote, near the hill of Reis-
corran; in Newport, between Lough Rea and Lough Arrow; on the
river Boyle ; and in Tulske ; Sir Richard Bingham kept his head quar-
ters at Roscommon. To pass through these well-disposed positions un-
observed, at the head of the warlike tribes of^Tyrconnel, was the highest
test of O'Donell's consummate mastery of the light-footed and freeboot-
ing tactics of the ancient Irish, while it also indicates the strong and
universal devotion of the people to the cause in which he moved; and
the tenacious discretion of the peasantry, still so perceptible a feature
of their character, was represented in the rapid march which spread
devastation without awakening the vigilance of numerous military
posts. In a long nightly march, O'Donell " passed over the deserts
and wastes of the country, without being observed or heard," to the
banks of the river Boyle, which they crossed at nightfall, at Knoc-
briar ; from this they took their silent way, winding through Moylurg,
and on through Maghair, and Trinbhear-nuigh, till at day-break they
reached the Cruachin of Rathair, in the near vicinity of the royal
fortress. Here they halted, and, dispersing in every direction, they
collected the cattle of the English, and drove them off unmolested to
Elphin, where O'Donell lay. " It was a long time," writes the secre-
tary, " before this, that an equal assemblage of spoils, the plunder of
one day, had been collected together in one place, by any one of the
descendants of Goodhal glas the son of Niall."$

Of this incursion, Sir Richard Bingham received tardy intelligence,
and drew together his troops from the different forts and castles,
where they were distributed, and set forth from Roscommon with the
hope to intercept O'Donell in his passage over the Boyle. But they
lost the track, and probably intending a short cut, they took a direc-
tion during the night which completely separated them from the
course pursued by O'Donell. This leader, in the meantime, sent off
all the useless hands in his camp, to drive his vast plunder over the
Shannon, at the ford of Kiltrenan. Bingham, grieved at having " miss-
ed the way" and pursued by O'Donell, sent messengers on every side to
rouse the English to exertion. The consequence was, however, but a
skirmish with some straggling parties of English, which had no result
but that many men were hurt on both sides.

(1595.) Early in the spring of the following year, O'Donell col-
lected his people, and again took the same way to Connaught, which
had on the previous year led him to so many bloodless triumphs.
His biographer details at length the course and incidents of his march,

* MS. p 57. f Ibid. J Ibid. § Ibid. p. 58.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 333

and gives the particulars of an elaborate and dexterous manoeuvre for
the surprise of an English garrison in the monastery of Boyle.
Placing his army in ambush near the monastery, he sent a small party
to drive away their cattle, with the design of seizing the monastery as
soon as the garrison should have left it for the purpose of rescuing
their cattle. The garrison, however, were in due time apprized of
their design, and O'Donell was obliged to content himself with taking
all that he had left behind on the last occasion. He plundered the
two Annaly's, and " did not leave a beast of any kind of cattle from
the mountains of Uillim red-edged, the son of Fionn, which is called
Slieve Carbry at this day, to Glas Bearramoin, the place which is
called Eithne, the place where was drowned Eithne, the daughter of
Eochaidh Feidhlioch."* On this course, such was the violence of their
devastations, that the smoke of their burning often caused O'Donell's
troops to take panic from mistaking their own company for the enemy.
The last exploit on this occasion was the capture of the castle of
Longford O'Ferral ; which was held by a garrison under Christopher
Browne. The castle is described as impregnable, and Browne as a
giant in prowess ; notwithstanding which serious difficulties, O'Donell
made himself master of the place, and of the person of its captain.
Most of the garrison were killed, and many who escaped the sword
were destroyed by the fire of the town: among the latter were six-
teen hostages of the gentlemen of the country. Four other castles were
also burnt by this party on the same day. From this O'Donell and
his men turned homeward; they had more cattle than they found it
easy to drive ; cattle and men were weary, and a long distance lay
before them; and the faithful secretary, the attendant of his master's
excursions, complains that the " sleep of Hugh O'Donell was not plea-
sant nor heavy during that week." Their progress more resembled
a moving procession of the fair of Ballinasloe, than any thing which
modern nations may conceive of the march of a triumphant army.

New troubles awaited O'Donell. He received from his friend, the
earl of Tyrone, a message informing him that the lord-justice, Sir
William Russel, had obtained information of his secret favour to
O'Donell's designs, and that he had in consequence sent a thousand
English into Tyrone, to operate as a check on his conduct. On
receiving this information, O'Donell marched directly into Tyrone,
and encamped in the plain of Fochart, where in days of old " the illus-
trious Cuchullin performed his valorous exploits ;" there they continued
to await the approach of the lord-justice.

It would be rather tedious to pursue the minute details of operations
which led to no result. During O'Donell's stay in Tyrone, his own
country was plundered by George Bingham, who had retired with the
rich plunder of the church of St Mary and that of St Columb, before
O'Donell could come to their relief, and returned to Sligo. Here,
however, Ulick Bourke, son of Redmond, son of Ulick of the Heads,
anxious to oblige O'Donell, took the town and sent for him. O'Donell
came and received possession of it with great satisfaction; and after
placing a strong garrison in the castle, he returned home and remained

* MS. p. 64.

334 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

at rest till August, when he received intelligence that M'Leod of Arran
was arrived in Lough Foyle with six hundred Scots to join him. The
prince immediately went to meet his allies, and remained with them
for three months. During this interval various preparations were
made, and they marched into Connaught, where O'Donell obtained
possession of some fortresses and strong places; and, as usual, collected
an immense booty. Hearing that Sir Richard Bingham was in pur-
suit of him, O'Donell justly concluded that it would not be sale to
await a collision with the English army, while his own force was dis-
qualified by the incumbrance of their spoil. Reaching Sligo, they
were enabled to place the spoil in safety, but had to encounter the
defiance of a party of English who were in the neighbourhood, under
a relation of Sir Richard Bingham. For these O'Donell planned an
ambush, but an accident defeated his purpose; the English were in
fierce pursuit of a party of horsemen who had been detached for the
very purpose of drawing them on to the hollow where the ambush lay.
One of these pretended fugitives happened to be mounted on a slow
horse, and was thus overtaken by the English leader ; as a last resource,
the man discharged an arrow which, striking his pursuer on the breast
where his armour had been ill riveted, inflicted a fatal wound. By
this accident the pursuit was arrested, and the English escaped the
trap that had been laid for their destruction. Sir Richard Bingham,
enraged at the death of his nephew, immediately marched against the
castle of Sligo, which he assailed with all the resources of ancient
strategy. The biographer describes the moving castle, built from the
spoils of the monastery, and filled with armed men, which was over
night wheeled close to the walls; he also describes the besieged
within rolling down large stones and shooting bullets through the
loop-holes, until the besiegers were compelled to abandon their vain
attempt, and raise the siege.

When Bingham had returned to Roscommon, Hugh O'Donell came
back and razed the castle of Sligo to the ground, from a fear that
the English might otherwise obtain possession of it. From the same
motive he also destroyed thirteen other castles in Connaught. Many
of the Irish chiefs at this time flocked about him as their only protec-
tion; and many who had been entirely divested of their possessions
were taken care of in his province. He spent the remainder of the
year in adjusting the pretensions, and reconciling the differences of
the De Burgos, of the Mac William family, and others of the chiefs who
acknowledged his superior authority.

He was still at home, when, in the summer of 1596, he received an
envoy from Philip II.,- king of Spain. On his landing, this Spaniard,
whose name was Alonzo Copis, was conducted by many of the chiefs
to Lifford, to O'Donell, who entertained him for three days. He had
been sent to inquire into the condition of the Irish, and about their
recent wars with the English: he was also empowered to promise
assistance in his master's name. On their part O'Donell and his
allies made suitable representations, and implored the early assistance
of the Spanish king, offering " to become subjects to him, and his
descendants after him." From Mac William, in the following June,
he received an account that Sir John Norris was encamped on the

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 33f)

borders of Connaught, with the purpose of completely reducing it.
O'Donell collected his own troops, and appointed a meeting with
numerous other chiefs near the English camp. But the English had
been consuming their provision; and, being thus for a considerable
time deterred from their purpose by the presence of a numerous force
(which they could not bring to an action), were obliged to relinquish
their plan and retire.

The Irish had within the last few years made a rapid progress in
the arms and arts of war, and, by the activity and influence of O'Donell,
the chiefs were becoming united. These considerations disquieted
the council and lord-justice. They had also heard of the king
of Spain's designs, which they probably understood more fully than
the native chiefs whom he desired to render instrumental to his
policy. It was therefore thought expedient to send invitations to
O'Neale and O'Donell to enter into terms of peace with the English
government. For this purpose the earl of Ormonde and the arch-
bishop of Cashel were sent with liberal offers, which, as they were not
accepted, we need not detail. " They related to them the conditions
which the council proposed respecting the peace, viz., that they should
have the entire possession of the province of Conor, except that part
of the county extending from Dundalk to the Boyne, which was pos-
sessed by the English for a long time ; and that the English should
not pass beyond the hill, except that the English of Carrickfergus
should be free from plunder by this agreement for ever, and the
English of Carlingford and Newry to have the same privilege ; and
that the English government should not send any officer as a gover-
nor over them, nor in any other way force any rent or taxes upon
them, except whatever tax their ancestors used to pay," &c.* The
parties on either side met on a hill near Dundalk ; Ormonde delivered
his errand, and when he had done, O'Donell and O'Neale retired to
consult. O'Donell represented strongly all the wrongs they had suf-
fered from the English, and insisted there was no faith to be given to
their promises ; he also referred to their treaty with the king of Spain,
and the danger of losing his countenance and assistance for ever after,
should they now deceive him. With this view some of the chiefs
agreed; while others, less resentful and more cautious, told him that
they would be sorry if they refused the offers of government.
O'Donell's voice outweighed all resistance, and Ormonde and the
bishop returned to Dublin.

On this, writes the biographer, the queen ordered large preparations
for an Irish war. Bingham was recalled from Connaught, and Sir
Conyers Clifford sent over. The munificence and popular manners
of this gentleman conciliated many of the Connaught chiefs. Among
those who joined him were O' Conor Roe, and Macdermot of Moylung,
and O' Conor Sligo; of whom the latter had been at the English
court, and came over in command of a body of English.

O'Donell commenced by a plundering inroad upon the territories
of O' Conor Sligo, after which he encamped in Brefne of Connaught,
to await the coming up of his friends. Upon being joined by these,

336 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

he marched against Athenry. There he was joined by Mac William
Bourke, and they stormed the fort, which they took with considerable
loss of life on both sides. Their loss was compensated by a very rich
plunder of every kind of riches, " of brass, of iron, of armour, of cloth-
ing, and of every thing that was useful to the people."*

From this they sent their plundering parties through Clanricarde,
and laid waste all the country to the gates of Gal way. Near Gal way
they encamped at Lynch's causeway, and O'Donell proceeded to the
monastery of the hill at the gates of that city, in order to exchange
their plunder for arms and for more portable wealth, as he should be
thus enabled to extend his operations when disencumbered of the vast
droves of cattle which embarrassed all his movements. In this he
failed, and was therefore compelled to direct his march homewards
across the " centre of Connaught." On his way he had a skirmish
with O'Conor Sligo, over whom he gained a slight advantage; in this
affair a son of Mac William Bourke was slain. O'Donell proceeded
home and suffered his own troops to disperse that they might rest;
but left his mercenaries with the Connaught chiefs, to carry on the
war with O'Conor, under the command of Niall O'Donell, a near
kinsman of his own. This chief continued the work of plunder, which
was carried on chiefly to compel the Connaught chiefs to return to
O'Donell. By this means a few were gained to his party.

About April, a Spanish ship arrived bearing a small force to
O'Donell. Landing in the harbour of Killibegs, they marched to
Donegal, where they were munificently entertained. " He presented
them with hounds and horses; they then returned carrying with {hem
an account of the situation of the country ."f We pass the details of a
desultory struggle, in which Mac William Bourke was repeatedly
expelled from his territories by a rival claimant with the aid of the
English.

About midsummer, a new lord-justice, Thomas lord Borough, was
sent over by the queen. He ordered Clifford to march into Tyrcon-
nel without delay. He was joined by the earl of Thomond, and Clan-
ricarde, O'Conor Sligo, and O'Conor Roe, and a strong reinforcement
of English troops sent by the lord-justice, so that, to use the descrip-
tion of the secretary, there were "twenty-two regiments of foot-soldiers,
and ten regiments of cavalry of chosen troops, with their strong coats
of hardened iron, with their strong-rivetted, long-bladed, strong-hafted
spears, with loud-voiced sharp-sighted guns, and with sharp swords
of hardened blades and handsome firmly-fixed hafts, and with crooked
combed helmets."! This army marched by Sligo to the banks of the
Samer, all the fords of which were strongly guarded by O'Donell —
they resolved to pass at the ford of Cuil-uain-an-tsainre. Here they
passed, notwithstanding a.bloody resistance, in which Morogh O'Brien,
baron of Inchiquin, was shot in the middle of his men, and died in the
water. The English marched to the brink of Easroe, where they
encamped to await the artillery which the governor had ordered to
be brought by sea from Galway. On Sunday these arrived in Lough
Erne, and they proceeded to batter the fortress on the brink of Atb

* MS. t Ibid. J Ibid.

HUGH EOE O'DONELL. 337

Seunaigh. Of this affair, the account given by O'Donell's biographer
compels us to suspect that his estimate of the English force must be a
violent exaggeration, as he tells us that they were routed by the fire
of the fort.

According to the prolix account of our MS. biographer, Hugh
O'Donell contrived so dexterously to surround the English on every
side, to cut off stragglers, and to intercept supplies, that in some days
they found it necessary to retreat; but were so enfeebled with their
long watchings, and insufficient food, that the retreat through a
hostile territory was become dangerous and difficult. The Irish had
now, by the care of O'Donell, arrived at a high state of discipline, and
were become formidable antagonists to encounter in the charge. Under
these trying circumstances, the only course which remained was to
cross the Saraer at a deep and dangerous ford, to which none but the
best and bravest knights were held equal. Here the English army
crossed with the loss of many, who were carried down by the force of
the waters. They were also attacked by a brisk fire from O'Donell,
which they had no means to return, and which destroyed many; and
to crown their misfortunes, they were compelled to abandon the whole
of their artillery and military stores which could not be carried across.
O'Donell led his troops over one of the fords which he had in his
possession, and coming again up with the English, who were in a
most deplorable condition, there ensued a desultory exchange of fire
with considerable loss on both sides, but without any decisive result,
until both were compelled to cease from fatigue, or the approach of
night warned them to desist. The English reached Sligo, and
O'Donell marched home.

Not long after, O'Donell received a summons to march to the aid
of O'Neale. The English lord-justice was come to Armagh, by Drog-
heda and Dundalk, with an army. O'Donell lost no time ; and then,
according to the new system of tactics which seems to have been
chiefly adopted by him, the English were soon surrounded on every
side by bodies of Irish, who distressed them with perpetual assaults
after the manner of the cossacks in modern war, allowing them to
have no sleep or rest by night or day. On this occasion it chanced
that the lord-justice took a small party to reconnoitre the country
from a hill top at some small distance from his camp. Scarcely had
they arrived at the summit when they were attacked by a strong party
of Irish. The lord-justice and the earl of Kildare, who had accom-
panied him, received wounds of which they died in a few days after,
and their guard escaped, with the loss of many, to the camp. The
English, deprived of their leaders, found it necessary to retire.

The remainder of the year 1597, and the commencement of the
next, were chiefly employed by O'Donell in a plundering excursion
into Connaught, against O'Conor Roe ; and also in compelling
O'Rourke, whose politics were unsettled, to join the native party.
But he shortly received a complaint from O'Neale, of the great incon-
venience he sustained from a fort which the English had erected
some time before on the great river* north of Armagh, and garrisoned

* The Blackwater : this fort was long contested by the earl of Tyrone, being
the key to his country.

i. ' Y lr-

338 THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

with three hundred men. After some useless assaults. O'Neale con-
trived to cut off the means of supply, and the fort soon became reduced
to great distress. On hearing this the government sent an army of
five thousand men to their relief. O'Donell soon joined his ally, and
the two armies, in a state of complete preparation, confronted each
other in battle array. The biographer of O'Donell tells the whole of
the array and preparations on both sides, and the speech with which
O'Donell cheered his followers. He assured them of the victory on
the strong ground of the justice of their cause. They were still
further encouraged by the prophecy of a " prophetic saint who could
not tell a lie,1' and it is added by the simplicity of the biographer, that
" he who first showed this prophecy of the saint, was a famous poet,
who had an extraordinary talent for invention. His name was Ferfeas
O'Clery."

O'Donell drew up his army opposite to the English, and behind a
line of deep trenches which he caused to be dug. Here he ordered that
the charge of the English should be awaited. The result was according
to his expectations : when the English came on, the force of their charge
was broken by the interruption thus offered. While they were so
arrested, O'Donell caused them to be attacked on both flanks. To
resist this the English were obliged to weaken their centre, and their
line was broken by O'Donell's men, who rushed with impetuosity in
among their thinned ranks. This might have been counteracted by
the superiority of the English tactics and armour; but an accidental
occurrence turned the fortune of the day. A soldier whose ammuni-
tion was exhausted, went to supply himself at a powder barrel; and
in doing this he let fall a spark of fire from his match into the powder.
An explosion was the instant consequence : several score of barrels of
powder blew up, spreading destruction and terror from the centre to the
utmost flanks of the English. The field was for sometime in total dark-
ness, and as it clearedaway it appeared that the English general and most
of his staff were slain. The English were scattered, and the leaders
on the opposite side seeing and seizing on the occasion, poured in
amongst them, insulating them into small groups, and cutting them
to pieces in detail; so that half their number was lost, and of the
rest few escaped unhurt. Such was the battle of the Yellow-ford.

In consequence of this tremendous loss, Armagh was surrendered
by the English ; they were not allowed to take their arms, the com-
mander alone excepted.

O'Donell completed the operations of this year by compelling the
MacDonoghs to sell him the town and castle of Ballymote.* They
had been for several years in possession of the castle, which stood on
their own patrimony, and had been accustomed to make it a repository
for the plunder of the surrounding country. It was now, however, to
be apprehended that it might fall into the hands of the English. To
prevent this, O'Donell resolved to obtain possession, and gave the
MacDonoghs the equitable price of £400 and three hundred cows.
Here he took up his residence. His numerous expeditions in a southern
direction seem to have made this change desirable on the score of

* On the north bank of the Moyne, a river bt-tween the counties of Mayo and
Sligo.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 339

convenience. And it also placed him in a position more favourable
to the enlargement of his apparent prospects, as occupying a position
more central, more within the range of a country over which he might
hope, by the expulsion of the English, and the forfeitures of their
Irish allies, to obtain a wide-spreading dominion, without interfering
with the territories of the O'Neales and other northern chiefs, his
faithful allies and kinsmen.

A main part of his hopes rested on the support he expected from the
alliance of Spain. Thither his eye was turned through life, for the
effective aid which might be hoped for from the wealth and warlike
reputation of the Spaniards, as also from the inveterate hostility be-
cweeh the courts of Philip and Elizabeth. In the present year, 1598,
he sent thither an ambassador to hasten this lingering but often pro-
mised succour; after which, his restless activity found vent in an ex-
pedition against Clanricarde, to which he had made a convenient ap-
proximation of residence. Having overborne the now feeble resistance
of the earl of Clanricarde, and slaughtered many of his men, he swept
over Clanricarde and returned with his plunder to Ballymote.

In the year following, the restless activity of O'Donell received a
new direction. The Connaught chiefs having been spoiled year after
year, until they had no longer any thing to lose, at last were allowed
to enjoy the immunity of this dreary condition ; and Red Hugh looked
to the rich and well-stocked hills of Munster for the spoil which pil-
laged Connaught could no longer supply. There were for this other
motives no less powerful than a love of plunder — the thirst for ven-
geance. The earl of Thomond had joined with the English governor
in his attack on Tyrcohnel. With these intentions Red Hugh appointed
a meeting of his forces and allies at Ballymote, and marched into
Thomond on the 17th February, 1599- Spreading his troops in the
wonted manner over the country, they swept together a vast booty of
cattle of every kind, took the castle of Inchiquin, with many others,
and returned home with the plunder of the whole country, having left
almost nothing behind. This was the work of about twelve days,
during which the invaders met no check.

In the following June, O'Donell's emissary to Spain returned in a
Spanish vessel, laden with a supply of arms, which were distributed
between O'Donell and his ally, the earl of Tyrone.

The lord-lieutenant had in the meantime suffered his activity to be
wasted by rebels of much less immediate importance. He overran
Leix and Ophaly with a large army, and returned to Dublin. His
force was thus weakened unnecessarily, and he was compelled to apply
for a reinforcement for the purpose of invading the insurgent chiefs
of Ulster. In pursuance of this duty, he directed the president of
Connaught to approach Belick to menace the earl of Tyrone on that
side, while he himself should attack him on the other. Sir Conyers
Clifford marched with 1500 men, and taking his way as directed, was
met in a pass of the Curlew mountains by a party of Irish which
Ware, Cox, Leland, and most other writers who mention the circum-
stance, describe as led by O'Rourke, who is not mentioned in the
account of the Irish historian. Assuming each party to have known
best the circumstances of their own side, and taking the particulars in

340

THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

which they agree, the following is the narration nearest to probability:

Hugh O'Donell, having heard that he was to be attacked by Sir

Conyers, in concert with O' Conor Sligo, and presently discovering
that O' Conor was in the castle of Coolmine, on the banks of the
Avontnore, proceeded at once to invest that castle with his troops.
Sir Conyers, either proceeding according to the orders above stated,
or as the MS. historian asserts, detached to the relief of O' Conor,
marched towards the pass of the Curlews as mentioned. O'Donell,
leaving a sufficient force at the castle, led a considerable division to
wait for the enemy at this post of advantage. Having occupied these
mountain passes, O'Donell detached a party to prevent one of the
Bourkes from landing, and by these operations weakened his force.
He had already waited here for two months, when Clifford, having
collected such additional men as he could, came up, and a battle began,
in which, according to the English account, a party of the Irish were
repulsed; but the English grew slack in ammunition, and the Irish,
who had perhaps concentrated in the mean time from different parts of
the Curlew range, finding this want of the English, and perhaps also
taking them at disadvantage in the pass, they charged with renewed
vigour, and succeeded in gaining a victory — having slain Clifford and
several officers. From this O'Donell derived for a time additional confi-
dence, and his reputation increased among the chiefs. O' Conor Sligo
sent to treat with him; and Theobald Bourke entered also into a
treaty, and submitted to him on his own terms. O'Donell pursued his
advantage, and raised a contribution on the town of Galway.*

In 1600, his friend, Hugh M'Guire, lord of Fermanagh, was slain
in a battle fought between Warham St Leger and O'Neale, on which
the people of Fermanagh assembled to elect a -chief. One of the
family, Conor Roe M'Guire, was supported by O'Neale, to whom he
was half brother. The other claimant, Cuchonaght M'Guire, sought
the interest of O'Donell. When O'Donell received letters from
O'Neale, informing him of what was going on, and bespeaking his vote,
O'Donell kept a discreet silence as to his intentions ; but, with a select
party of horse and foot, he took with him his brother Rory, and the
rival candidate, and repaired to Dungannon, where O'Neale dwelt. When
O'Donell appeared in the assembly, O'Neale made a speech, in which
he expressed his own wish and appealed to O'Donell for his consent.
To his great concern and perhaps surprise, O'Donell, after calmly
hearing him out, declared that he could not consent to the election of
Conor, on the ground of his having been the constant adherent of
the English. His declaration very much chagrined O'Neale; but
O'Donell's voice had now become the voice potential. The decision
was for Cuchonaght. The feast which seems to have completed the
election is thus described: — " After the breaking up of the council,
they were entertained at a splendid feast by O'Neale, at which he placed
O'Donell in the most honourable situation, and Conor Roe M'Guire
next to him. O'Neale took a cup of wine and drank to O'Donell, who,
taking another cup from the butler, cast a quick glance through the
room, and not seeing Cuchonaght M'Guire, desired that he should be
called in. This was done ; and when Cuchonaght came in, Red Hugh
' Sir William Bethana, Ware, Leland.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 341

desired him to sit down by his brother Rory in the midst of the com-
pany. When Cuchonaght was seated, O'Donell took the cup in his
hand, and drank to him by the name of M'Guire. This was followed
by several others; and thus was Cuchonaght declared the M'Guire,
which none opposed, seeing it was O'Donell's desire. On the next
morning O'Donell bade farewell to O'Neale, and he and M'Guire and
their people returned to their homes."

In reading the life of O'Donell at this period, a slight and partial
view of the affairs of the country is all that can be expected. It is to
be recollected, that although the historian on whose account the whole
of our notice is grounded, was an eye-witness, we may yet, without
questioning his veracity, assume that he saw only that aspect of the
stormy events which occupied the whole of his master's life, which
connected itself with the acts and influence of this chief. O'Donell
so far as his historian could see, was the prime mover in a fierce strug-
gle, of which a more detached observer might have observed that he
only bore a part — a chief part, it is true. He was one amongst
three or four powerful and warlike partizans, whose talent and resolu-
tion for a moment nearly poised the scale of contest against the power
of Elizabeth. The follower of this chief was in some respects like the
soldier who, in the tumult and confusion of a battle, sees but the move-
ments of the division to which his regiment is attached, and conceives
them to be the deciding charges of the fight, and the indications of
victory or defeat. It is thus that we are struck with the extraordinary
difference between the statements of this biographer and those of the
general historian. While the events stated in these pages were in
their course, some of the most considerable rebellions of which there
is any account in Irish history, are related with minute detail by every
historian ; and while the earl of Tyrone in the north, and the Sugan
earl in the south, are the theme of every chapter, and in fact fill
volumes with their turbulent activity, O'Donell takes his place rather
as a conspicuous partizan of the powerful Tyrone, than as the arbiter
of elections and the marshal of the field. From this character of the
curious and almost singular document which records the life of
O'Donell, arises a necessity to take the statements of the writer with
a caution which, without impugning his veracity, is yet doubtful of
his means of observation, and makes allowance for the spirit of clan-
ship, and of attached service, that sees partially and trusts fondly.

In the year 1599> there had been an increased activity on the part
of the English government. The queen, alarmed by intelligence that
the king of Spain, with whom she was at war, was preparing for the
invasion of England, and that an army of 12,000 men was destined for
Ireland, became seriously and justly alarmed for the safety of the latter.
Under these impressions she had yielded to the specious persuasions of
the earl of Essex; and, listening rather to partiality than to sound
judgment, she sent him over to mismanage the affairs of a nation
where prudence, caution, moderation, and sound discretion, as well as
firmness and sagacity, were indispensably required. Essex was
rash, luxurious, and vain, self-confident, and unreflecting; he possessed
talent, but wanted the moral virtues which give a practical value to
intellectual endowments. His military ardour and his fluent eloquence

342

THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

were mistaken, and he was sent to a command where the mistake was
likeliest to be soon detected. On his arrival in Dublin he enjoyed
the gratification of military display; the "pomp and circumstance"
of war filled his heart with confidence, and inflated his inconsiderate
temper. He was not long allowed to indulge in the vain dream of
conquest without toil and trouble. Those around him were more cor-
rectly informed of the true state of the country, and Essex was apprized
that the enemies with whom he had to contend were more numerous,
better trained, and far more exercised in the field than his raw levies.
At the time, the actual state of the Irish chiefs was this: — The earl of
Tyrone, who was in reality at the head of the insurrection, occupied
the north with a well-disciplined and appointed army of six thousand
men, while O'Donell, with an army not inferior in arms and training,
was prepared to maintain the war in Connaught. Both were aided
by many chiefs, of whom some were not much lesi formidable than
themselves; while those who opposed them, and took part with the
English, were chiefs of far less power and influence, who were mostly
maintained in their authority and possessions by the protection of the
government. There was at the time a general impression in favour
of the insurgents, their cause and prospects, which was a main source
of their strength. It was known to what an extent the Irish soldiery
had profited by the lessons of their enemies. There was a universal
reliance on Spain, and the rebellion had assumed a serious character.

Such were the actual circumstances under which Essex entered on
a misguided career of errors, of which we have already mentioned
some of the chief consequences. We shall have, in our notice of the
earl of Tyrone, to take a view somewhat more enlarged, of this period
of our history, to which we must refer the reader. We must here
endeavour, as far as is possible, to confine ourselves to the life of
O'Donell.

A change of administration gave a more favourable aspect to Irish
affairs in the latter end of 1599- Lord Mountjoy was sent over as
deputy, and Sir George Carew as president of Munster; and early in
the following year, advantages were gained by these able commanders
which struck misgiving and dismay through the hearts of the national
leaders. A detachment which the president sent into Carbery, under
the command of captain Flower, was intercepted by an ambush, yet
obtained a signal victory over M'Carthy and O' Conor Carbery, the latter
of whom was slain; in consequence of which M'Carthy and others sub-
mitted. Meanwhile the lord Mountjoy garrisoned the northern towns.
Among these vigorous dispositions the historian of O'Donell con-fines
his notice to those which more peculiarly affected Tyrconnel and its
neighbouring districts; and his statements, though strictly correct,
exhibit in a curious manner the confined and ignorant observation
which we have endeavoured to describe. A body of men, stated at
GOOO by this writer, was embarked in Dublin, under the command of
Sir Henry Dockwra, and, on the 1 Oth of May, arriving in Lough Foyle,
landed in Inishowen, the land of O'Dogherty. Here they seized on
the fort of Culmore, and fortified it, and parties were detached to
Dunalong, in O'Kane's country, and to Derry, which were also seized,
fortified and garrisoned.

HUGH ROE O'DONELL. 343

Tliis judicious and serviceable disposition of force is otherwise inter-
preted by our historian, who tells us that, the English shut themselves
up in their forts so as to afford O'Doneil no opportunity of bringing
them to action ; on which he, conceding the main object for which these
garrisons were placed, resolved to leave O'Dogherty to take care of
himself, and marched away with the main body of his troops to punish
the earls of Thomond and Clanricarde for joining the English, by the
plunder of their estates. In this design, which was after all the most
prudent under the actual circumstances, he was as usual eminently suc-
cessful. Calling together his Connaught adherents, he swept away
the cattle and property of every kind from both these districts, leaving
unpillaged no house but the monasteries and other places of religious
establishment ; and, dividing the spoil among his chiefs and allies, re-
turned home in triumph.

Having rested his army for some months, O'Doneil received intelli-
gence that the English in Derry were in the custom of sending out
their horses to graze daily, under the care of a very small party. He
lost no time in sending a select body of horse under the cover of night
to conceal themselves so as to be between the horses and the town,
and another party were ordered to be in readiness to drive them
off. Accordingly, when the English detachment appeared next
morning on the plain, they were surprized by an unexpected party of
Irish, who began unceremoniously to drive away their horses. This
proceeding soon attracted notice from the walls, and a large body
came out precipitately to the rescue. O'Doneil himself pressed for-
ward, and was encountered by Dockwra in person, whom he wounded.
The English were compelled to retire within the walls, and lost two
hundred horses. O'Doneil having waited to the end of October, in
the vain expectation that the English would evacuate the fortresses and
towns they held, left the country and repeated his former severe in-
flictions on the lands of Thomond.

The next important occurrence in the history of O'Doneil is, the
defection of his cousin and brother-in-law, Niall O'Doneil. The im-
portance of the event is as usual magnified by the Irish historian,
who considerably overrates the efforts made by the deputy to
gain over Niall, by high offers of command and treasure ; and misre-
presents equally the sick and tired condition of the English, whom he
describes as relieved by this treachery. The truth will better appear
from a statement of the previous facts, which did not fall within the
scope of this writer's design.

On the 23d of April, previous to the circumstance last mentioned,
lord Mount] oy gave a feast in celebration of St George's day, at which
were present those chiefs whom the success of his military operations
had induced to make their timely submissions to a commander who,
it had become quite apparent, was not to be much longer resisted
without destruction. These were mostly chiefs of an inferior class,
but all of whom had a little before taken an active part in resistance.
Their names are MacHenry, captain of the Fewes; Macooly, chief of
the Fearny ; O'Hanlon, an Ulster chief ; MacFeagh, chief of the
O'Byrne's, and son to the war-like chief, of whom we shall have much
to relate — with Spaniagli, chief of the Kavenaghs. All these had been

,'U4 THE O'DONELLS OF TYHCONNEL.

received to mercy on their submission. The kindness with which
they were entertained was an influential inducement, which led to
the voluntary submission of many greater chiefs who were more im-
mediately connected with the districts in an insurrectionary state —
these were M'Carthy Reagh of Carbery, O'Sullivan Bear and O'Sul-
livan Bantry, with other less known chiefs, who came in to offer submis-
sion, a step which they would not have dared if the great chiefs of
Tyrone and Tyrconnel were in condition to call them to a reckon-
ing. Shortly after a pardon was granted to Phelim MacFeagh O'Toole,
and a protection to Ross MacMahon till he might sue for pardon.

When the treachery of O'Donell's kinsman — for such we must ac-
count it — is viewed in connexion with these and many similar facts
which we might easily bring together, the defection is a sufficient
evidence of a state of things, and of a general impression on the minds
of the chiefs ; and it becomes a high probability that, great as was
the enthusiasm in favour of O'Donell, a strong tide of adverse fortune
was generally perceived to be setting in against the cause for which
lie fought so ably, but with so little real result. The greater part of the
most distinguished of his exploits could have no immediate effect of
any kind but to impoverish the lands of Thomond and Clanricarde
which he plundered. The English held places of strength which he
did not even attack — with small contingents of force, not designed to
meet him in the field, but to secure these positions. This course,
which O'Donell must have rightly understood, is evidently misconceived
by the simplicity of his biographer, who treats it as the manifestation
of weakness. We are the more particular in laying stress on this,
because the curious MS. to which we advert, while it is invaluable for
the internal view it gives of the manners and warfare of the day, is
only calculated to mislead the antiquarian who might be led to treat
it as history.

O'Donell's brother-in-law, according to the biographer, having long
continued proof against the extravagant offers of the English — vast
treasures and the sovereignty of Tyrconnel — at last gave way, and
drawing after him his brothers, Yellow Hugh and Conn-Oge, declared
against the chief. The English were thus relieved from the neces-
sity of a more laborious warfare. Niall O'Donell put them in posses-
sion of Lifford, an ancient residence of O'Donell, at the time decayed.
This the English fortified for themselves.

O'Donell, on receiving this disastrous intelligence, marched to Lif-
ford with a small army, and encamped within two miles of the fort,
which they were yet completing. His presence had the disadvantage-
ous effect of restricting their excursions, and lessening their means of
subsistence. They, on their part, not having force equal to a battle,
watched their opportunity and made a desperate sally, but failed to
repulse the Irish, and were compelled to retire after a smart skirmish.
In this encounter Manus O'Donell, Red Hugh's brother, received a
mortal wound from the hand of the traitor Niall, who was himself
•wounded by Rory O'Donell. Manus lingered for seven days, and
died on the 27th October, 1600.

Having blockaded the English for some time longer, O'Douell
learned that a vessel, bearing supplies from Spain, was arrived in the

HUGH EOE O'DONELL.

345

harbour of Invermore. Sending messengers to O'Neale, he went to
meet the Spanish envoy at Tirboghaine. On this occasion the sum of
£6000 was sent over by the king of Spain, and divided between
O'Donell and O'Neale. And in the beginning of January, 1600,
O'Donell, having consulted fully with the Spaniard on the affairs of
the country, and doubtless concerted the next invasion from Spain,
which occurred so soon after, returned to his camp at Lifford.

While thus engaged, he received intimation that O'Conor Sligo
had entered into an engagement to seize on his person and deliver
him up to the English. Having communicated this alarming intelli-
gence to his friends, they resolved to prevent O'Conor's design by
seizing himself. This was quickly effected, and he was sent to Lough
Esk, and kept as a hostage.

The movements of both parties which succeeded, as they had little
or no result, are scarcely worth the narration. Many skirmishings
and marchings took place without decisive issue.

It was in the month of October that events occurred, which at first
promising a favourable turn to the affairs of O'Donell, ended in their
total ruin. A Spanish fleet arrived in the harbour of Kinsale ; this
event brolte up all minor plans, and brought the two great leaders of
the Irish, O'Donell and O'Neale, with their whole forces, to meet and
join their allies. It also caused a powerful concentration of the Eng-
lish under the lord-deputy and president, to the amount of 7,600 men.
The Spaniards were 4,000, under the command of Don Juan D'Aguila.
The Irish force cannot, with any tolerable certainty, be stated, but
may be reasonably rated at many thousands. All circumstances had
for a considerable time favoured the military improvement of the Irish.
They had, according to the statements of the Irish biographer, received
arms for upwards of 20,000 men, besides the large supplies taken in
plunder, and not numerically stated. A great part of the money sent
over from England came by the same course of traffic into their hands,
and the English possessed resources far inferior to those they thus
obtained. It was, indeed, to meet the disadvantage arising from the
Irish being thus enabled to purchase all they wanted in Spain, that
the English cabinet adopted the unsafe expedient of a debased coinage,
by which the currency might be confined to the country.

As this great struggle, which terminated the insurrection of
O'Donell, O'Neale, and the other chiefs who were leagued with them, at
this period belongs more appropriately to the life of Tyrone, in which
we have had occasion to bring forward in detail a fuller view of
various concurrent events, we shall here confine ourselves as nearly as
we can to those particular incidents in which O'Donell was more im-
mediately a party.

The Spanish took possession of Kinsale and Rin Corran, being the
main places of strength on either side of the harbour of Kinsale.
They were deprived of Rin Corran ; and Kinsale was closely besieged
by the lord-deputy. On the seventh of November, the lord-deputy
having intelligence that O'Donell was approaching, as was also Tyrone,
called a council, in which it was agreed to send the lord-president
Carew and Sir Charles Wilmot with their regiments, amounting to a
thousand men, with two hundred and fifty horse, to meet O'Donel]

346

THE O'DONELLS OF TYRCONNEL.

— a force which the Irish biographer, with the exaggeration of party
feeling, and a very excusable ignorance of the fact, states as four
thousand men.

O'Donell was waiting near Holy Cross, in Tipperary, for the earl
of Tyrone; his camp was strongly fortified by the strong fastnesses of
wood and bog, which he had secured by plashing on every side : so
that no immediate assault was practicable by the English party. These
in the mean time were strengthened by a regiment of foot and a few
horse, under Sir Christopher St Lawrence. It was not the object
of O'Donell to risk a premature conflict with this detached body before
he could effect a junction with his allies ; and he very wisely deter-
mined to avoid an encounter. It was still less desirable to be cooped
up within his entrenchments. He escaped by a combination of good
fortune with that skill in marches, which, throughout, appears to have
been a conspicuous part of his tactics. The nearest available way
through which his army could pass was twenty miles distant, near the
abbey of Ownhy. This way was intercepted by the English. The
only passage besides, lay through the heights and passes of the moun-
tain Slewphelim; these were rendered impracticable by recent rains
that flooded the numerous bogs and marshes which obstructed the
mountain and rendered the acclivity in every part miry and slippery,
so that no army could pass without leaving their entire materiel be-
hind them. A sudden frost consolidated the marshy surface; and
O'Donell, at once seizing the occasion, led his troops over a path en-
tirely impervious on the preceding night-fall. The English lay about
four miles from the Irish camp; and ere long were apprised of the
enemy's movement; and about four hours before dawn they began to
pursue, still hoping to intercept O'Donell before he could reach the
pass. They reached the abbey by eleven in the forenoon, and heard
that he had been there before them and had hastened on to a house of
the countess of Kildare, called Crom; his whole march being thirty-
two miles. The president pushed on to Kilmallock ; but before he
could reach Crom, O'Donell had departed with all his men to Conne-
loghe. The president on this concluded the pursuit hopeless, and re-
turned to Kinsale. O'Donell, following a circuitous and difficult path,
at last joined the Spaniards at Castlehaven.*

Between the English and the Spanish in Kinsale, many fierce en-
counters had taken place, hereafter to be described ; and each had
been strengthened by strong reinforcements. When O'Donell and
Tyrone were come up, they received a letter from Don Juan, strongly
urging an immediate attack on the English ; — he informed them that
the English had not men enough to defend the third part of the in-
trenchments, and that if their first fury were resisted, all would end
well.

On the receipt of this letter, O'Donell and Tyrone held a council,
in which the MS. biographer of O'Donell affirms that they disagreed:
O'Donell urging an attack, and O'Neale opposing this advice. O'Donell
prevailed; but the MS. mentions, that the consequence was a quarrel
between them, fatal to their cause; for neither chief giving way,

* Sir W. Betham.

HUGH ROE O'DOXELL. 347

after a night of warm dispute they separated in the morning, and
each party came separately before the English at day break.*

It will here be enough to state, that they were attacked by the
lord-deputy with 1,100 men; and that they were routed with despe-
rate slaughter, leaving 1,200 dead on the field, with 800 wounded.
This battle was fought within a mile of Kinsale ; and terminated the
insurrection of O'Neale and O'Donell. The Spanish treated for their
surrender ; and the Irish, it is said, disputed for several days on the
proposal of another battle. Pacific resolutions prevailed, though the
consultation wanted little of the violence of a fight.

O'Donell, still bent on maintaining the struggle to which his life
had been dedicated, embarked with Don Juan for Spain, from Castle-
haven, on the 6th of January, 1602; and landed at Corunna on the
1 6th of the same month. The king was at the time on a progress
through his dominions; and O'Donell repaired to him at Zamora in
Castile. He was received kindly by Philip, who listened with the ap-
pearance at least of generous sympathy to his complaints against their
common enemy. He was promised every assistance of men and
means ; and desired to wait in Corunna. O'Donell returned to
Corunna, and for eight or nine tedious months suffered the penalties
which but too frequently await those who put their trust in princes.
The spring passed away in eager hope; — summer still smiled on the
lingering day of sickening expectation. When autumn came, the im-
patience of the fervid son of Tyrconnel had risen to its height.
O'Donell could rest no longer — it is, indeed, likely enough, that he
was forgotten — he again resolved to visit the king; and set out on his
way to Valladolid, where he kept his court, but did not reach the end
of his journey. At Simancas, within two leagues of Valladolid, he fell
sick, and died, 10th September, 1602. O'Donell was thus cut off in
his 29th year ; having, in the course of a few years, by his activity
and the ascendancy of a vigorous understanding and decisive mind,
done more to make his countrymen formidable in the field than the
whole unremitting fierceness and resistance of the four previous cen-
turies had effected. He was prompt to seize every advantage — and
cautious to avoid collisions to which he was unequal. He kept his
people employed, and brought their faculties into training, while he
accumulated arms and the means of war. Had he been allowed to
persist a few years longer in that course of which his faithful secretary
affords us many graphic views: acquiring ascendancy and wealth —
spoiling the chiefs who held out against him — and recompensing with
the spoil those who were his allies ; exercising his troops without loss
or risk, while he slowly concentrated the mind and force of the coun-
try under a common leader — it is hard to say what might be the limit
of the achievements of his maturer years. Far inferior in power, ex-
perience, and subtilty to the earl of Tyrone, it is yet remarkable how
early he began to take the lead on those occasions in which their per-
sonal qualities alone were brought into collision. On such occasions
the temporizing temper of the earl seems ever to have given way before
the frank resolution of Red Hugh. O'Donell, of all the Irishmen of

* Sir W. Bstham.

348 SIR ROBERT SAVAGE.

his day, seems to have been actuated by a purpose independent of self-
interest; and though much of this is to be traced to a sense of injury
and the thirst of a vindictive spirit, strongly impressed at an early
age, and cherished for many years of suffering, so as to amount to an
education ; yet, in the mingled motives of the human breast, it may be
allowed, that his hatred to the English was tempered and dignified
with the desire to vindicate the honour and freedom of his country.
And if we look to the fickleness, venality, suppleness and want of truth,
which prominently characterizes the best of his allies in the strife —
their readiness to submit and to rebel; O'Donell's steady and unbend-
ing zeal, patience, caution, firmuess, tenacity of purpose, steady con-
sistency, and indefatigable energy, may bear an honourable comparison
with the virtues of any other illustrious leader of his time.

SIR ROBERT SAVAGE.

FLOURISHED A. D. 1353.

IT is perhaps the peculiar character of this period of our biography,
that while it has more than the ordinary proportion of names, render-
ed eminent by rapid rise, great actions, and weighty importance in
their generation, there is comparatively little or no personal record of
the illustrious persons who bore them ; — stat nominis umbra, might be
taken for their common motto. To have a history, even in the most
vague and general acceptation of the term, it was necessary not only
to be famous in their day, but to tie so identified with the whole of
the tissue of our national history, that the events of the age may be
stated as the life of the individual. Hence it is that, while numerous
names are rendered eminent by the circumstances of a long descent,
and wide-branching families which can trace their fortunes to the
valour and wisdom of ancestors who lived in this period, we are yet
obliged to confine our notices to a small selection of names mostly
within a few great families. The history of Ireland for many centu-
ries, is, in fact, little more than a history of the Geraldines and But-
lers, of the De Burgos, Berminghams, and other illustrious settlers.
But of the great Irish chiefs so renowned in their day — the O'Nialls,
McCarthys, O'Briens, O'Donnels, and O' Conors — it has been with some
difficulty that we have been enabled to connect some scattered notices
to diversify our pages. Lives constructed regularly according to the
rigid notion of biography, strictly personal in their main details, have
been quite impossible even in those cases in which the materials are
the most favourable. These reflections may be received as a preface
not inappropriate to the following scanty notice of Sir Robert Savage.

" About this time," writes Cox, " lived Sir Robert Savage, a very
considerable gentleman in Ulster, who began to fortifie his dwelling
with strong walls and bulwarks ; but his son derided the father's pro-
vidence and caution, affirming that a castle of bones was better than
a castle of stones, and thereupon the old gentleman put a stop to his

SIR EGBERT SAVAGE.

349

building." Some of the neighbouring Irish had made a plundering
excursion into the territories of this stout old knight of Ulster; he
promptly assembled his own people, and collected assistance from his
neighbours, with the intent of chastising the affront, and perhaps re-
pairing the losses he must have sustained. But with a cool deliber-
ation worthy of the warrior who deemed that his valour needed no
bulwarks, he thought it would be paying too serious a compliment to
an enemy he despised, to go without his supper on their account, and
gave orders to have a plentiful supper prepared for himself and his
companions at their return from the fatigues of the day. One of the
company, not without reason, surprised at this premature provision for
a moment of which his fears suggested the extreme uncertainty, ob-
served that it was not unlikely that his hospitable forethought might
turn out to be for the advantage of the enemy. Sir Robert replied
in the true spirit of Hibernian wit, bravery, and hospitality, that he
had better hopes from their courage ; but that he should feel ashamed
if his enemies even were to find his house inhospitable and devoid of
cheer. His valour was crowned on this occasion with a complete and
decisive victory, sufficient even to fulfil his son's architectural project ;
as by the historian's account his party slew three thousand of the Irish
near Antrim, and " returned joyfully to supper."

The story is probable enough, though the numbers of the slain are
likely to be exaggerated ; for unless some unusual accident operated
in his favour, this particular either implies a larger force than a person
of less than the highest authority could well have commanded; or
the revolting supposition that Sir Robert and his friends exercised
their valour upon a defenceless crowd, whom it should have been suffi-
cient to repulse with the loss of a few prominent ringleaders. It is
pretty evident, that such slaughters rarely took place in the many
encounters we have had from time to time to notice ; yet in these the
chief leaders of the English were engaged with large bodies of the
Irish, whose skill in retreat was hardly less than the skill and disci-
pline of the English in the attack. It must be observed, that such a
result should have found a more distinguished place in the history of
the time.

Of more importance is the view which such incidents afford of the
dreadful state of the country, where a slaughter, considerable enough •*-
to warrant such an exaggeration (if such it be), can be mentioned as a
cursory incident, insufficient to call for any detail. The true horror
of a state in which there seems to have been an unrestrained licence
of private war on every scale, according to the means or objects of the
individual, is not easily placed in the deep shade of enormity and ter-
ror which its real character demands. It was a fearful field for the
exercise of all the worst and most terrific excesses of human vice and
passion, and must have led to all the disorders incidental to a disor-
ganized state of society. The power to encroach and usurp, to trample
and to tyrannize, will seldom remain long unused, or be wanting in full
and sufficient excuse for the perpetration of enormities without bound,
but that which must limit all human exertions. Unfortunately for the
more numerous and less civilized classes who are the eventual sufferers
from such collisions, they have too easily, even in more civilized eras,

350 SIR ROBERT SAVAGE.

been led to provoke inflictions which have the plea of justice and the
fury of resentment. The warrior who considered bones as a safer
bulwark than stones, could not in this disordered state of things long
remain without a trial of his maxim, likely to be fatal to himself
or his assailants. We do not hazard these reflections for the pur-
pose of a ridiculous censure on deeds so wholly unlike the events of
modern times. It is easy, were it to any purpose, to find excuses —
in man's nature, the manners of the time, and the existing circum-
stances— both for the aggressions of the Irish and the sanguinary re-
taliations of the English. It is their excuse that they were ungo-
verned by law, the sole preserver of civil order. The crime was that
of an age in which invasion and robbery in every form and upon every
scale, seems to have been sanctioned by opinion, and scarcely con-
demned by law. The Irish septs, if they could not justly complain,
might fairly retaliate; the history of the time is composed of such
sanguinary retaliations : in these, it would be hard to trace the wrong
to its source ; the process does not belong to justice. When on the
other hand, the settlers were not protected in their rights, they can
scarcely be blamed if they protected themselves by violence which could
not fail to be stimulated by fear, anger, party animosity, and all the bitter
and inflaming instincts, which soon add force to human strife from
whatever cause. Power is a fatal trust to human breasts, whether
lodged with the many, with the few, or with one ; and hence the high
perfection of that state in which the power resides in the law alone.
Such a state in its perfection is of course ideal ; but it is the consum-
mation of the true principles of civil government, and only ideal be-
cause perfection does not belong to human things. Ireland appears
to have presented a frightful exemplification of every social evil which
can befall a nation ; they told upon her with awful effect, and have left
traces never yet effaced by the firm, equal, and resistless force of con-
stitutional civil control.

Had the English been supported, fully established, and at the
same time controlled, by the monarchs who even in the pale pos-
sessed little more than a nominal power, all would have proceeded
with a demonstrably progressive course, hand in hand with the Eng-
lish monarchy, toward the same high perfection of civil order. In-
stead of the English settlers having sunk into the barbarism which
ages of disorganization had caused in this island, the Irish chiefs
would have rapidly risen to the level of the English civilization of
the period, and the country would have become what unfortunately it
is not yet — a province of Great Britain, having not only the same
laws, but what is as essential to its civilization and prosperity, the
same religion, manners, and national feelings. Leland, indeed, has
ventured an affirmation which he has not succeeded in maintaining,
and been followed as rashly by others, to whom it seems not to have
occurred in writing Irish history, to look into the contemporary history
of England, before they ventured comparative assertions. Leland
dwells with a strong pencil on the disorders of the social frame of
England, in the reign of Edward III., and having described the
slavery of the mass, the power and tyranny of the barons, the
oppressions and exactions of the monarch, he somewhat loosely ob-

SIR ROBERT SAVAGE. 351

serves, that " the whole picture hoth of the English and the native
inhabitants of Ireland, is exactly delineated." Looking only at the broad
features of this delineation, no very decided objection lies against the
comparison; but its merit is certainly not exactness. The disorders
already described in this and every preceding period of Irish history,
find no exact parallel for frequency, duration, magnitude, or actual
character, until we look back to the Saxon heptarchy, when petty
robbers, under the name of kings and chiefs, contended with the sea
pirates of the north, in inflicting all conceivable oppressions on a
savage population. The crimes and contentions of the Irish chiefs of
either race (we include the Norman with the Irish and Danish) which
form the substance of our narrations, may, it is true, be paralleled
for violence, for flagitiousness, and for their more immediate con-
sequences, with those which darken the page of Anglo-Norman his-
tory. When the great oppress the feeble, when armed provinces
or fellow-citizens meet in the field, or scatter waste and devastation
through provinces, the sufferings and evils are nearly the same, what-
ever may be the spirit and occasion. But it is widely different when the
after consequences are to be deduced. Then, the institutions and the
mind of a nation is to be looked into with minute and critical scrutiny,
and the political frame of the country must be examined, not merely
with regard to its grosser effects, but with respect to its direction
and tendencies. The political springs of the English disorders were
different, the social frame on and from which they operated wholly
so, the spirit of the people different, that of the barons different, that
of the monarchy a distinct and peculiar principle. The state of man-
ners, knowledge, and the arts of life too, was widely dissimilar, and
exercising an hourly influence on the whole system, not to be appre-
ciated distinctly without much close study. We must, to avoid length
ened dissertation here, take a shorter course. The following main
differences lie on the surface.

In Ireland, all the contests were those of in dividuals contending for
their several purposes — to acquire territory — to revenge insult or
wrong — to rob, murder, or protect and defend. The chief and the
baron were to all intents so many bandit leaders, each looking to
preserve his own domain of spoliation inviolate. There was no gene-
ral constitution contemplated, no abstract element recognised, no
principle contended for. The chiefs did not unite to repel the Norman
barons, the Norman barons did not (with some exceptions in extreme
cases) combine to maintain or to control the usurpations of a higher
power. We find no proud vindication of the laws of the realm, ex-
pressing the sense of an assembled estate, no field of Runnymede, or
spirited and virtuous remonstrance, nolumus leges Anglice mutari,
to show that, although the English barons tyrannized in their several
spheres (as men will ever when they can), yet there was a corporate
sense, a public feeling, and a common cause; that, in a word, principles
were at work. At that age, the people, in the present sense of the
word, had scarcely existence in either country. But already in Eng-
land, this third element of society was infused into the spirit of the
mass, and corporate interests began to form, and become the centres
of a growing constitutional force. If there was oppression, it was

352 SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM.

the result, not of mere licentious disorganization, but of a system, the
best that could have existed at the time ; and there is a wide differ-
ence between a vicious order of things, and the total absence of any
order. The people were slaves, and were fit to be slaves ; but there
were processes at work which were to raise their condition both
morally and politically by" co-ordinate steps. A systematic contest
between the monarch and his barons for power, had the necessary
effect of raising a third, and after them a fourth class into importance.
The growth of wealth, the development of finance, as well as the
struggles between the throne and aristocracy, were permanent princi-
ples essentially pervading the entire working of the British nation from
the beginning of the monarchy perhaps, certainly of the Norman race
of monarchs. These worked uniformly and progressively, and produced
permanent and diffusive effects. They were aided by every occasional
cause. The wars of the contested succession between the families of
York and Lancaster, and the contentions between the kings and the
Roman see, can easily be shown to have operated in accelerating the
main tendencies of the nation, toward the political balance so pecu-
liarly the character of its laws and institutions.

The disorders of society must in every state be marked with similar
characters; the same low instincts, passions, appetites, and agents are
being brought into leading action in all. When it comes to blows,
the moral and intellectual capacities of man are quickly thrown aside ;
when crowds are put in motion, the most perfect military discipline
is insufficient to suppress the temper that leads to the utmost atrocity.
It is needless to refine on this fact of human nature.

SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM.
DIED A. D. 1329.

SIR JOHN BERMINGHAM'S ancestors had a castle in the town of
Birmingham, from which their name is derived. The English branch
continued to possess the lordship of this place until the reign of Henry
VIII., when, says Lodge, " Edward Bermingham, the last heir male,
was wrested out of that lordship by John Dudley, afterwards duke of
Northumberland." William de Bermingham, who lived in the reign
of Henry II. and Richard I., is supposed to have been the common
father of both branches. It is yet doubtful amongst antiquaries,
whether it was his son Robert or himself, who came over with Strong-
bow. We shall not discuss the point : whichever it may have been, he
obtained ample grants from Si rongbow. From this adventure is
traced with more certainty Pierce de Bermingham, the first lord of
Athenry, who was a distinguished nobleman in the reign of Henry
III. His grandson Peter, the third lord, was father to the eminent
person whom we are to notice here, who was the second son. He is
justly entitled to a conspicuous rank among the most eminent persons
of his time. His most illustrious achievement was the termination
of the disastrous war consequent on Bruce's invasion, to which we

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The Irish nation, its
history 6 its biography

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