Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts

Sunday, December 22, 2019

The Revenge Of Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth Of Orkney Against The Viking, Eyvind Úrarhorn



Eyvind Úrarhorn was a Norwegian man-of-action who supported King Olaf II Haraldsson of Norway (aka St. Olaf, r. 1015-1028) by doing such tasks as hunting down unwanted Vikings in Norwegian waters and forcing out foreign tax collectors who were trying to extort King Olaf’s borderland subjects. In 1018, however, Eyvind Úrarhorn decided to take a break from his domestic duties to go raiding abroad. His Viking expedition brought him to the British Isles, and after some pillaging, Eyvind apparently signed his crew up as mercenaries for a certain King Connor in Ireland. Unfortunately for Eyvind Úrarhorn, the contract with the Irish king brought him into hostile contact with another Viking crew that was skulking around Ireland. In the fall of 1018, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth of Orkney (r. 1014-1020) appeared in Ireland and clashed with the Irish King Connor. Eyvind Úrarhorn, heeding his mercenary contract, joined the Irish side in the battle and fought against the army from Orkney.

King Connor and Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth met in battle at Lough Larne, in Northern Ireland. According to the accounts of the Orkneyinga Saga and the Heimskringla, King Connor won a great victory that day and forced the jarl of Orkney to retreat. The Orkneyinga Saga, describing the battle from Jarl Einar’s point of view, claimed it was a “crushing defeat with heavy loss of life” (chapter 15). The rebuffed Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth was sorely aware that a band of Norwegian mercenaries had aided King Connor during the battle, and although the jarl may not have known who commanded the mercenaries at the time, he was determined to discover who led the group and to seek revenge. For the meantime, however, Eyvind Úrarhorn enjoyed the victory and spent the rest of the year without any harassment from Orkney.

By the summer of 1019, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth had learned of Eyvind’s part in the battle at Lough Larne, and he was keeping his agents busy searching for the Norwegian. It was at this inopportune time that Eyvind Úrarhorn decided to return home to Norway. In a curious move, Eyvind made the bold decision to plot his course past Orkney during his return trip. He might have been able to get away with this move if fate had been kinder, but the weather betrayed Eyvind Úrarhorn, forcing his ship to make landfall. Of all the places he could have been driven ashore, Eyvind was unlucky enough to find himself beached at a place called Osmundwall, located in the southern section of the Orkney archipelago.

Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth soon learned about Eyvind Úrarhorn’s presence in Orkney and he quickly mobilized his fleet, eager to exact his revenge. Before Eyvind could set sail, the jarl’s fleet descended on the Norwegian Vikings and caught them by surprise. In the encounter that ensued, there was not much of a battle, and Jarl Einar was allegedly able to take the stranded crew captive without any difficulty. According to both the Orkneyinga Saga and the Heimskringla, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth used the situation to execute Eyvind Úrarhorn. With the Viking leader’s death, the jarl’s drive for vengeance was sated, and he ultimately let most of Eyvind’s crew return home. When King Olaf II of Norway learned of his friend’s death, he took no official act against Orkney, although he did begin to show public support for Einar’s rivals on the Orkney Islands, especially for Einar’s brother, Jarl Thorfinn the Mighty (r. 1014-1064), who traveled to Norway to meet with King Olaf II in 1020. During that very year, King Olaf II was likely pleased to learn that Einar Wry-Mouth was murdered by one of Jarl Thorfinn’s associates before the end of 1020.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scenes from the Bayeux Tapestry, [Public Domain] via flickr.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Orkneyinga Saga, written anonymously approximately c. 1200, translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. New York: Penguin Classics, 1981.
  • Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.  

Monday, March 11, 2019

The Great Golden Hoard Of Olaf “Peacock” Hoskuldsson



Olaf Hoskuldsson was said to have been a chieftain in the Laxardal region of Iceland. He reportedly lived around 938-1006 and owned a farm called Hjardarholt. The highly fictionalized Laxdæla saga (written c. 13th century) featured him as a central character. With a large helping of creative license and embellishment, the saga traced Olaf’s impressive life and exploits.

Olaf’s father was Hoskuld, a prominent landowner, and his mother was reportedly an Irish slave-woman that Hoskuld had acquired while abroad. The slave-woman, at least according to the saga, possessed a great secret—she was allegedly the daughter of an Irish king. Embracing the news with pride, Olaf devoted himself to learning his mother’s native language and he pointedly dressed in clothes fit for a king. Other Icelanders soon took notice of his proud demeanor and expensive dress—it was reportedly in consequence of these observations that the Icelanders began to call him Olaf Peacock.

As portrayed in the Laxdæla saga, Olaf Peacock had a talent envied by all prospectors. He seemed to find gold wherever he traveled. From Iceland, to Norway, to Ireland, characters in the sagas lined up to bury Olaf with valuable gifts. The anonymous author or authoress of the Laxdæla saga apparently relished such scenes of Olaf receiving or wearing valuable possessions, as almost all of his treasures were described in loving detail. To help grasp the vastness of the treasure hoard he allegedly accumulated during his life, check out this list golden weapons, armors and accessories he supposedly owned:

1) Olaf was given a hefty gold armband of Irish design by his mother.

2) In Iceland or Norway, Olaf Peacock acquired a fancy helmet with gold plating.

3) Olaf was said to have wielded a beautiful sword that was covered from blade to pommel with stylish gold inlay. It was likely acquired at the same time as his gilded helmet.

4) Along with his sword, Olaf carried a shield, which had, displayed on its front, a fierce (but elegant) golden lion. The saga, however, was unclear on whether the lion was painted or made of metal.

5) While traveling in Ireland to look for his supposed regal grandfather, Olaf Peacock obtained a magnificent spear. Like his helmet and sword, the spear was decorated with inlaid gold.

6) Upon his father’s death, Olaf received as a part of his inheritance a golden arm ring that was said to have originated from King Harald Finehair (ruled approximately 860-940), the first king to unify Norway.

7) During a trip to Norway, Olaf encountered Jarl Hákon, a nobleman of the Trondheim region who dominated Norway from 970-995. Jarl Hakon expanded Olaf’s gilded weapon collection by giving him a gold-inlaid axe.

Following his meeting with Jarl Hákon, Olaf returned home to Iceland and reportedly never again sailed abroad. As he was no longer meeting with nobles and kings, his inflow of golden gifts decreased dramatically. At that point in the saga, the narrative begins to focus more on Olaf Peacock’s children than on Olaf, himself, and the reader learns less and less about his daily life. If, however, he stuck to his character, Olaf was likely still adding gold to his collection until his death, which reportedly occurred in 1006.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (The Vikings' Hoard, by Bror Anders Wikstrom, c. 1886, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Laxdæla saga by an unknown 13th century Icelander, translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

The Bizarre Way The Norwegian Earl Sigurd Of Orkney Supposedly Died


History about the Scandinavian settlement of British islands, such as the Shetland Islands, the Orkney Islands and the Hebrides, is dubious at best, even during the better-documented times when Harald Finehair was attempting to spread his influence over those regions. Anglo-Saxon sources, such as the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles and Asser’s Life of King Alfred were more likely to comment on Viking activity in mainland Britain and France than on Scandinavian settlements in the islands of the northern British Isles. Consequently, written history about the medieval Orkney and Shetland Islands has been overwhelmingly shaped by the most prolific lore-keepers of the Scandinavian world—the Icelanders.

Orkney, Shetland, the Hebrides, the Isle of Man, and Ireland were natural stopping points for Vikings who were sailing around the British Isles, looking for settlements to loot. Viking raids in Britain had begun as early as the 790s in the north, and had spread to the southern British kingdoms by the 830s. Viking activity increased dramatically in 865, with the arrival of the so-called Great Heathen Army. King Alfred the Great of Wessex finally forced this army to leave his kingdom in 878, after many years of back-and-forth fighting.  Another Great Heathen Army tried its luck against King Alfred in 892, but the Anglo-Saxon king had improved his kingdom’s defenses by then and the Vikings were driven away by 896.

King Harald Finehair (c. 860-940) was born in the midst of this Viking Age, yet he showed little interest in plundering foreign lands. Instead, while his peers sailed away to raid distant lands, Harald Finehair instead stayed home and spread his influence throughout Norway, becoming the king of the whole region sometime between the years 885 and 900. Only after Harald had become king of all Norway did he reportedly turn his gaze toward Britain, and did so because displaced Norwegians were launching Viking raids against Harald’s kingdom from Shetland, Orkney and other Viking hubs. Therefore, Harald’s navy set sail toward Britain, not to raid the Anglo-Saxons, but to punish the Vikings.

The Saga of Harald Finehair (from Snorri Sturluson’s Heimskringla) and the Orkneyinga saga, both written in 13th-century Iceland, give an account of Harald’s campaign. The Heimskringla claimed that Harald Finehair campaigned successively from the Shetland Islands, to the Orkneys, to the Hebrides, and then all the way down to the Isle of Man. The Heimskringla and the Orkneyinga saga both agree that King Harald gave Shetland and Orkney to Earl Rognvald, who subsequently handed the islands over to his brother, Sigurd. Earl Sigurd allied with Thorstein the Red (a member of the family that gained controlled the Hebrides) and together they meddled in Scottish affairs, going as far as invading Scotland through Caithness. The sagas agreed that the Norwegians encountered stiff Scottish resistance, led by a certain Scot nobleman whom the Icelandic authors named Maelbricht Tooth, and, according to the Laxdæla saga, Thorstein the Red was eventually killed by the Scots. Earl Sigurd, however, continued the war effort and reportedly slew Maelbricht Tooth.

As the Heimskringla and Orkneyinga saga tell it, Earl Sigurd’s pride at overcoming Maelbricht led him to create a morbid trophy from the skull of his fallen Scottish rival. The Orkneyinga saga suggested that Maelbricht naturally had bizarre protruding teeth. The Heimskringla, however, claimed that Earl Sigurd added tusks to the skull to make the trophy all the more intimidating. Whatever the case, both sagas agreed that Earl Sigurd hung the skull from the saddle strap of his horse.

One day, while Earl Sigurd was riding around his domain, showing off his trophy as he went, the earl accidentally stabbed his leg on the protruding tooth or tusk from Maelbricht’s skull. The wound quickly became infected and eventually led to the inglorious death of Earl Sigurd.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene from the Halvdan Svartes saga, by Gerhard Munthe (1849–1929), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:
  • Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
  • Orkneyinga saga in The Viking Age: A Reader, edited by Angus A. Somerville and R. Andrew McDonald. Ontario: University of Toronto Press, 2010.  
  • Laxdæla saga in The Viking Age: A Reader, edited by Angus A. Somerville and R. Andrew McDonald. Ontario: University of Toronto Press, 2010. 
  • Asser’s Life of King Alfred and Other Contemporary Sources translated, introduced and denoted by Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge. New York: Penguin Classics, 2004.  

Sunday, April 8, 2018

The Surprising Defeat That Allegedly Led To The Downfall Of the Scandinavian-Irish King, Margad Ragnvaldsson



King Margad Ragnvaldsson (thought to be the Eachmargach mentioned in sources from the British Isles) was the son of a Viking named Ragnvald Ivarsson and was a man of Scandinavian and Irish blood.  Although not much is known about King Margad’s life, we know he was prominent for much of the mid-11th century. He was recorded as having ruled Dublin from around 1035-1038, and then returned to power from 1046-1052.

The Icelandic historian and saga writer, Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), wrote about Margad’s downfall in his text, King Harald’s Saga. In the saga, Sturluson described the career of the last major Viking King, Harald “Hardrada” Sigurdsson of Norway, who famously died at the battle of Stamford Bridge only days before the Norman conquest of England in 1066. Apparently, a distant member of the Norwegian royal family was a regular companion of King Margad in Dublin, allowing Sturluson to digress away from the tale of Harald in order to spend some time recounting the fall of King Margad.

The link between Margad Ragnvaldsson and Harald Hardrada was a certain Guthorm Gunnhildarson. He was the nephew of the Norwegian king, born to Harald’s sister, Gunnhild. When Guthorm was not with Harald, he liked to go on Viking expeditions and his favorite target was Britain. As such, he became friends with King Margad and was allowed to stay in Dublin between raids.

According to Sturluson’s account, Margad and Guthorm decided to jointly raid Wales in early 1052. The king of Dublin was said to have taken sixteen longships with him on the journey, while Guthorm commanded five independent ships of his own. While pillaging the lands of the Welsh, the two warriors captured an enormous amount of treasure, especially in silver coins. With their ships weighed down by loot, the Vikings sailed to the Menai Strait, which runs between the island of Anglesey and the northwest coast of Wales. There, the ships were anchored and the two Viking forces set about dividing the plunder.

As all of the wealth was being assessed, King Margad was said to have become filled with greed. Very aware that he had a much larger army than Guthorm, the king of Dublin bluntly proclaimed that he was not going to share any of the winnings with the Norwegians. In fact, Sturluson claimed that King Margad even demanded that Guthorm hand over his ships, as well. The Norwegian asked the king to reconsider and to wait three days in order to allow for further negotiations. Margad, however, refused to continue discussions on the matter.

According to Sturluson, this incident took place on July 28, 1052, on St. Olaf’s day, a day that interestingly honored another famous uncle of Guthorm Gunnhildarson. Instead of relinquishing his share of the loot and his ships to King Margad, Guthorm called his troops into battle formation. After asking for divine aid from his sainted uncle, Guthorm and his companions charged against Margad’s larger forces on the banks of the Menai Strait. The Norwegians must have caught the Dublin Vikings off guard, or perhaps Guthorms men were the more seasoned fighters—whatever the case, the smaller Norwegian warband slaughtered the soldiers from Dublin. Sturluson wrote that King Margad died during the battle, yet some other sources claimed that Margad lived on to regain power in the Isle of Man. Either way, King Margad lost control of Dublin in 1052.

After claiming all of the loot for himself, and presumably taking as many ships as his men could control, Guthorm set off for Norway. Once home, he paid thanks to St. Olaf by using a tenth of his captured silver to fund a great statue, supposedly ten feet in height, which was placed in the saint’s church.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Landing of a Viking Fleet at Dublin, by James Ward (1851-1924), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

Sunday, August 27, 2017

The Myths And Legends Behind Ireland’s Lack Of Snakes


(Left: Bede illustrated by James Doyle Penrose (1862-1932), center: Common snake depicted in the book of M. C. Cooke (Mordecai Cubitt), c. 1893, right: St. Patrick from the Smith Museum of Stained Glass Windows, all [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and Flickr)

An interesting fact about Ireland is that it has no native snake population, besides those found in zoos or kept as pets. From what scientists have determined, the lack of snakes in Ireland dates back before the end of the last major Ice Age around 8,000 BCE. During the Ice Age, the climate in Ireland was deadly to snakes, and by the time the temperature became more hospitable, snakes still had not been able to migrate to the Emerald Isle before rising water (caused by glacial shifts and melts at the end of the Ice Age) separated it from the rest of Britain around 6,500 BCE. England is said to have been connected to mainland Europe for a few extra thousand years (until around 4,500 BCE), allowing it to be populated by species such as grass snakes, smooth snakes and adders. Ireland, however, remained snakeless, without even a hint of fossil evidence to be found, suggesting that no native snake species have ever lived in Ireland.

Science, even though it has the facts in this case, definitely does not have the special flair present in the folklore, myth and legend that was developed by ancient and medieval people to explain the absence of snakes in Ireland. The more popular of the tales is the miraculous feat attributed to the 5th-century apostle to Ireland, St. Patrick. As the story goes, St. Patrick managed to corral all of the snakes of Ireland together and drive them entirely off a cliff into the depths of the ocean.

The story of St. Patrick clearing Ireland of snakes was probably not known to another important clergyman of the British Isles, named Bede (673-735 CE). Venerable Bede made no mention of St. Patrick in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People—instead, he thought a man named Palladius was the most important missionary to Ireland. As a result, Bede included his own theories (containing nothing to do with St. Patrick) as to why Ireland has no snakes. Some readers of Bede’s history think he wrote the passage with a sense of sarcasm, which he, indeed, was known to use on occasion. Yet, the statements are still up for interpretation. This is the peculiar passage in Bede’s History that suggests that Ireland has a mystical resistance to snakes and all things poisonous.

“There are no reptiles, and no snake can exist there; for although often brought over from Britain, as soon as the ship nears land, they breathe the scent of its air, and die. In fact, almost everything in this isle confers immunity to poison, and I have seen that folk suffering from snake-bite have drunk water in which scrapings from the leaves of books from Ireland have been steeped, and that this remedy checked the spreading poison and reduced the swelling” (Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Chapter 1).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:
  • Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People (and relevant letters), translated by Leo Sherley-Pride, R. E. Latham and D. H. Farmer. New York: Penguin Classics, 2003.  
  • http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2008/03/080313-snakes-ireland_2.html 
  • https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/history/the-real-reason-why-there-arent-any-snakes-in-ireland-sorry-st-patrick  
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-Patrick

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Henry VIII of England Nearly Exterminated The Powerful Fitzgerald Clan Of Ireland


(Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons. by Hans Holbein  ( –1543), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Gerald Fitzgerald was the powerful 9th Lord of Kildare, located in The Pale of Ireland. He had a rocky relationship with King Henry VIII (r. 1509-1547), and was sometimes in the English king’s good graces, but at other times under suspicion or even under arrest. In 1534, Henry VIII ordered Gerald to report to London, where he would answer further questions about his loyalty. Gerald deputized his son, Thomas Fitzgerald, as the acting Earl of Kildare, then ventured to London to meet the king’s summons. Upon Gerald’s arrival in the capital, Henry VIII must not have been impressed with what he heard, for Lord Fitzgerald was imprisoned in the Tower of London.

When word reached back to Ireland that Gerald Fitzgerald had been imprisoned, many Irishmen expected the worst—after all, Henry VIII remains notorious for his many executions. Of the many concerned Irishmen, Gerald’s son, Thomas, was the most outraged.

After hearing about the imprisonment of his father, Thomas Fitzgerald declared war on Henry VIII. He managed to rally a major rebellion under his leadership, profiting from the anti-Protestant sentiment among the Catholic Irish. Thomas Fitzgerald hoped that the Catholic nature of his rebellion would entice the Scots and the Spanish to aid in his revolt, but foreign help never came. Nevertheless, Thomas was able to deliver considerable damage with his own resources.

Thomas Fitzgerald’s rebellion quickly laid siege to the major city of Dublin, which was the heart of English authority in Ireland. They succeeded in taking parts of the city, and even managed to kill the archbishop of Dublin, John Alen, but the city was never entirely occupied.

In October, 1534, English reinforcements arrived under William Skeffington to crush the rebellion. Once Skeffington’s men landed and gained a foothold, the rebellion was defeated with ease. By March of 1535, the rebels were pushed out of Dublin and slowly pressed back into the Fitzgerald territory of Kildare. Thomas Fitzgerald and his rebels made a final stand at Maynooth Castle, but by August, 1535, they were forced to surrender.

With the end of the rebellion, Fitzgerald power in Ireland virtually came to an end. Gerald Fitzgerald died of ill health in 1534, while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London. His son, Thomas Fitzgerald, despite being given a promise of mercy, was executed (along with five of his uncles) after the rebellion was crushed. After the mass execution of the Fitzgerald men, the leadership of the family passed to a young boy, also named Gerald Fitzgerald (11th Earl of Kildare), who was smuggled out of Ireland. He managed to stay alive until Queen Mary I restored him to power after the death of King Henry VIII.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:
  • Ireland: A Short History (Third Edition) by Joseph Coohill. London: Oneworld Publications, 2008.  
  • http://www.encyclopedia.com/people/history/british-and-irish-history-biographies/thomas-fitzgerald-10th-earl-kildare
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Thomas-Fitzgerald-10th-Earl-of-Kildare  

Sunday, June 18, 2017

The Norman Knight, John De Courcy, And His Bold Ambitions In Ulster


(Carrickfergus Castle, photographed by David Trochos in 1988, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

John de Courcy, a Norman knight who had participated in Strongbow’s invasion of Ireland in 1169, mounted an expedition of several hundred men north into Ulster. By 1177, he began constructing Carrickfergus Castle on the shore of Belfast Lough, around eleven miles from what would become Belfast City. De Courcy’s castle consisted of, at the least, walls encircling a bailey, or courtyard, with a great hall or keep in the interior. He was also able to spread his influence throughout most of Ulster, making him a minor king in all but title. Yet, there was a problem. John de Courcy constructed his castle and expanded his influence in Ulster without the permission of his liege, King Henry II of England.

Despite being a rogue knight, John de Courcy managed to live unmolested by the Norman kings of England for decades. He outlived Henry II (died 1189) and Richard II “the Lionheart” (died 1199)—it was the infamous King John who brought John de Courcy to task.

King John sent the powerful Hugh de Lacy (lord of Meath, constable of Dublin, justicar of Ireland, so on and so forth…) to finally end John de Courcy’s insubordination. Hugh de Lacy succeeded in his mission in 1204, defeating John de Courcy and taking Carrickfergus Castle for himself. After around twenty-seven years of relative autonomy in Ulster, John de Courcy’s bold dream was crushed.

Hugh de Lacy did not let his newly obtained castle go to waste. Instead, he improved and added to the walls and towers of Carrickfergus Castle. He also outfitted the gatehouse with a formidable portcullis and directed for more decoration to be added to de Courcy’s castle structure. In the interior of the castle, de Lacy had a vault constructed.

Since that day in 1177, when the rogue knight, John de Courcy, constructed his castle in the territory he had carved for himself in Ulster, it had been (for the most part) continuously garrisoned until 1928. De Courcy’s castle at Carrickfergus remains standing to this day, having survived attacks from the English, Scots, Irish and French.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:
  • Tales of Irish Castles. Documentary series available on Netflix, released 2014.  
  • http://www.britainirelandcastles.com/Northern-Ireland/County-Antrim/Carrickfergus-Castle.html 
  • https://www.britannica.com/biography/Hugh-de-Lacy-1st-lord-of-Meath  
  • http://www.culturenorthernireland.org/features/heritage/history-carrickfergus 
  •   http://www.virtualvisittours.com/carrickfergus-castle/ 
  • https://discovernorthernireland.com/Carrickfergus-Castle-Carrickfergus-P2814/ 

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Two Different King Brians Almost United Ireland Into a Single Kingdom

(Brian Boru addressing his Army before the Battle of Clotarf 1014 AD, by James Ward (1851-1924), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Throughout its long, tumultuous history, Ireland has never truly been unified. Whether the people in Ireland were warring amongst themselves or against invaders, or arguing about religion, they always seemed to be divided by something, if not by national borders, then by irreconcilable beliefs.

In medieval Ireland, however, two kings came close to unifying the people of their island—Brian Boru (c. 941-1014 CE) and Brian O’Neill (r. 1241-1260 CE).

In 10th century Ireland, a second wave of Vikings were beginning to raid and settle Irish lands. Brian Boru, located in western Ireland, took advantage of the chaos, and began to conquer his neighbors, Vikings and native Irish, alike. By 980, Brian Boru had conquered Limerick and Munster; next, Tara and Dublin fell to him in 999. As Brian Boru continued to conquer small Irish kingdoms, he proclaimed himself high king of Ireland. He expanded into Ulster and Leinster, but died in the 1014 Battle of Clontarf, throwing his kingdom into disarray.

The other king, Brian O’Neill, lived less than a century after the Norman kings of England began spreading their influence into Ireland. In his time, England was preoccupied with matters away from Ireland, so Brian O’Neill benefited from a resurgence of native Irish influence. In 1258, Brian O’Neill was proclaimed high king of Ireland by a coalition of minor kings. Though some Irish kings withheld their support from O’Neill, the high king was able to raise an army to fight the English. The military campaign, however, did not go well—Brian O’Neill was slain in the Battle of Downpatrick in 1260.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Source:

  • Ireland: A Short History (Third Edition) by Joseph Coohill. London: Oneworld Publications, 2008.