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THE CELTIC CONNECTION • MARCH 1993
Walt Leebody
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( A Brief history of IrefancC^
One Invasion after Another for Beleagured Irish
By KEVIN McFADDEN
The forays of the Scandinavian pirates, traditionally known to the Irish as the "Danes," left indelible marks on the history of Ireland. The Danes did not establish themselves permanently as they did in Normandy, England and Sicily; they did, however, carry out a great deal of destruction and completed the elimination of the "Clann."
One of the more positive effects of the Danes' presence, was their establishment of some of the chief sea ports of Ireland. The Danes had been traders before they turned to piracy to obtain materials for trading purposes. They appeared to be versed in supply and demand theories, but found the supply side cumbersome through the usual ethical channels.
When not pirating, the Danes would fish and farm. They established cities on the mouths of rivers and on inlets, gaving them first-class facilities for practising all their specialities. Dublin, Wexford, Waterford, Cork, Bantry and Limerick all were founded and built by the Danes. Within the walls of these cities they provided refuge for the craftspersons and earlier traders who had been scattered by the Danes' violent destruc-
tion of the ancient communal system.
Under the impact of invasion, the various Ri-M6r developed into military chiefs with strong bands of trained men under their command. They recruited professional soldiers — trained in war against the Danes in England, and with these Galloglaich" (foreign soldiers) the rival chiefs began a furious struggle for the title and office of Ard-Rf.
The winner was a North Munster chief, Brian Boroimhe (Bor-roo) — meaning "of the tributes." He had succeeded in extorting tribute from every Rf in Ireland.
In 1014, a measure of peace had begun to emerge when the Danes made a final rally to the aid of the Danish puppet king in Dublin from whom Brian had extorted tribute. A battle fought at Clontarf on the Tolka River near Dublin ended in complete victory for the Irish.
Legend has it that Brian was
?> raying in his tent, giving thanks or the victory, when a Dane fleeing towards the Irish Sea happened upon him and killed him.
After Brian's death, the anarchical strife for possession of
the title of Ard-Rf was resumed. In the end, general exhaustion caused most contenders to recognize the superior claims of Ruraidhe O'Connor, Rf M6r in Connacht.
It was at this point, when a\h Ireland was settling down to' enjoy a long-wished-for peace, that Dermot Mac Murrough, Rf M6r in Leinster fell into a feud with a rival chief over a wife-stealing incident. Peace was wanted, but no one wanted peace compromised by family quarrels.
Dermot fled overseas to the court of Henry II, King of England, and swore fealty to him as his vassal. Dermot asked Henry for aid to "recover his rights," and Henry gave Dermot permission to recruit any of his vassals who were willing to try their luck in Ireland.
All Ireland wanted was peace but all Ireland got was an Anglo-Norman invasion.
•
This is the second part of a three-part series on A Brief History of Ireland. Next story will explain Henry's willingness to "help out" Dermot, and the subjugation of Ireland begins in earnest with a papal blessing. Resource credits will appear at the end of the series.
MEMORY OF A HOLIDAY
Thrilling! Bouncing Around Like Marbles in a Jar
By CECILIA GORSUCH
In July 1930, we stayed in an old country mansion in County Cork, instead of spending the month by the sea as we usually did. The mansion, known as Rathmore House was the ancestral home of a wealthy family. Like many aristocrats of British descent, they fled to England during the Troubles in southern Ireland. They feared they might be shot and have their house burnt to the ground.
Rathmore was eventually leased to a farmer who decided to rent the second floor to summer visitors, as he and his sister occupied only a small portion of the huge house. One of my sisters saw the advertisement in the paper and remarked, "Why don't we try this place for a change?" Mother thought it a good idea so we found ourselves at Rathmore House — Mother, three of my sisters and myself.
Nothing had been altered much
in our rooms since the departure of the owners about ten years previously.
The house slumbered in its peaceful surroundings of beautiful trees. Green fields stretched down to a tidal river. My sister Freesia and I shared one of the large rooms; our beds close to the open windows. I would awaken early in the morning to the caressing cooing of wood pigeons and lean out the window. Through the thick morning mist the ghostly forms of sheep were just visible. Their plaintive "baahh, baahh..." muffled through the fog.
It was haying time for the farmer, George Tyner. I spent a lot of time watching him as he drove his team, perched on the mower behind them. One day he said to me, "I see ye watching the horses! Maybe you'd like to ride me old mare Nellie, when she's pulling the rake, raking up the hay in the other field."
Needless to say, I was overjoyed. Fortunately, I had borrowed a pair of my uncle's grey flannels before coming to Rathmore. Now I could wear them. Poor Mr. Tyner was rather taken aback when he saw me in them, never having seen a female in trousers before!
Once a week, the farmer took us to the nearest little market town of Kinsale, in his ancient Model-T Ford, to buy groceries. He did not believe in wasting time. He drove what in those days was a breakneck speed, up hills and down the winding country roads. The hard wheels on the washboard roads gave us a thrilling ride as we bounced around like marbles in a jar!
We loved the beautiful walks around Rathmore. We often took a road which brought us right out to the headlands above the Atlantic. I have many happy memories of that month we spent at Rathmore House.