The Battle of Clontarf
We now come to a battle that is famous alike in Norse and in Irish
story. It was the final effort made by the Norsemen to assert
their supremacy over Ireland, and the last of several disastrous
defeats which they encountered at the hands of the Irish. Both the
story-tellers of the North and the historians and bards of Ireland
wrote long accounts of it, so that we know the details of the battle
of Clontarf perhaps better than we know those of any other ancient
battle fought in the British Isles. Except the battle of Brunanburh,
no other fight in these islands excited half so much attention at this
period. On the Norse side forces were gathered from the Orkneys, the
Isle of Man, and the Scottish coast to support the Norse of Dublin; on
the other were the united forces of Munster and Connaught, supported by
Danish auxiliaries, and led by the aged King of Munster, Brian Boru,
or “Brian of the Tributes.” Brian had risen from being an outlawed
prince of part of Munster, in the south of Ireland, to the position
of High-King of the whole country. When he was a boy the foreigners
had become so powerful in the south of Ireland that the Irish princes
despaired of either driving them out of the country or defeating them
in battle. They had adopted the weaker policy of paying the intruders
a heavy tribute, in order to keep them quiet; and when Brian’s father,
Kennedy, died, and Brian’s elder brother, Mahon, came to the throne, he
carried on the same policy. But Brian utterly refused to make any truce
with the Northmen, or to pay them any tribute whatsoever; and when he
saw that Mahon was determined at all costs to keep peace he left the
royal palace of Kincora, on the Shannon, and he and a band of the most
hardy and independent of the young chiefs of the neighbourhood betook
themselves to the forests and wild parts of North Munster, whence
they issued forth by day or night to attack and harass the Northmen.
Many of them they cut off and killed, but on the other hand a number
of Brian’s followers were slain, and they were all reduced to great
straits, from lack of food and shelter. For, like Alfred the Great in
similar circumstances, they had to live in huts or caves or wherever
they could get refuge; and often they could get no food but roots and
wild herbs, so that their strength was reduced, and in the wet weather
they became in wretched plight. Brian’s brother, Mahon, hearing of
this, sent for him, and tried to induce him to give up his roving life
and return to Kincora; but Brian, in no wise daunted by all that he
had gone through, reproached Mahon for having made a dishonourable
truce with the foreigners, which neither their father nor any of their
ancestors would have approved. When Mahon excused himself, saying that
he did not care to lead his clan to certain death, as Brian had led the
young chiefs, his brother replied that it was their heritage to die,
and the heritage of all the clan, and whatever they might do they could
not escape death; but that it was not natural or customary to them to
submit to insult or contempt at the hands of their enemies. And he so
wrought upon Mahon that he determined to adopt his brother’s advice,
and they called an assembly of the tribe, who with one heart gave their
voice for war. From that time forward Mahon and Brian grew stronger and
stronger. They gained a great victory over the foreigners at Limerick,
plundered their goods and sacked the fort; after that they set fire to
the town and reduced it to ashes, and they banished Ivar, Prince of
Limerick, to Wales. The soldiers of the Norsemen, who were billeted on
the people, and did them grievous wrong, were driven out, and Mahon
reigned as undisputed king.
But treachery arose among his own followers, for some of them were
envious of his success, and Donovan and Molloy, two of his chiefs,
betrayed him in Donovan’s own house, being instigated to the foul act
by Ivar of Limerick, who wished to be revenged on Mahon. The prince was
suddenly surrounded while he was at a peaceful meeting with the clergy
of the province. He bore on his breast the Gospel of St Fin-Barre,
to protect him, but when he saw the naked sword lifted to strike he
plucked it out of his tunic and flung it over the heads of those that
stood nearest him, so that his blood might not stain it. The Gospel
fell into the hands of a priest who stood at some distance, with Molloy
beside him. Not knowing that it was Molloy who had planned the murder
of Mahon, nor understanding what was passing, the priest turned to
Molloy and asked him what he should do with the book. “Cure yonder
man with it if he should come to thee,” laughed the traitor, and with
that he leaped on his horse and fled from the place. When the cleric
perceived what was done and that Mahon had been slain, he fervently
cursed the deed, and prophesied that evil would befall Molloy. Looking
at the book he saw that it was sprinkled with Mahon’s blood; he gave it
to Colum, who was the abbot, and they wept at the sight of the blood on
its pages, and at the death of the King.
After that the sovereignty fell to Brian, and the beginning of his
reign was one vigorous, long-continued struggle to rid his country from
the hosts of the invaders. He made untiring war on them, driving them
out of his territories, until he seated himself firmly on the throne of
Munster. Then he began to aspire further, and he thought that he would
attempt the High-Kingship of Ireland, and would endeavour to drive
the Northmen not only from the south, but from the whole country. He
marched north into Leinster, for the men of Leinster, with the Norsemen
of Dublin, revolted from Brian, and they met at the Glen of the Gap, in
County Wicklow, at the pass beside the ancient palace of the Kings of
Leinster.
A great battle was fought between them, and Brian was completely
victorious; he marched on straight to Dublin, and took the Danish fort
of Dublin, and plundered it, gathering the spoil of gold and silver
ornaments and precious stones, goblets and buffalo horns, wondrous
garments of silk, and feather beds, with steeds and slaves, into one
place, and dividing it among the clansmen. From Great Christmas to
Little Christmas Brian rested his army there (_i.e._ from Christmas to
Epiphany), and from that time forth no Irishman or Irishwoman needed
any longer to set hands to menial labour, for things were changed, and
the foreigners became their slaves and did the kneading and grinding
and washing for the households of the conquerors. Up to this time the
foreigners had enslaved the Irish. Then Brian ravaged Leinster, and he
caught Melmora, the King, hidden in a yew tree, where Morrogh, Brian’s
young son, saw him concealed among the branches, and pulled him down.
He returned to Munster, having made peace with Melmora; and Sitric
Silken-beard,[30] the Norse King of Dublin, submitted to him, and Brian
gave him his daughter in marriage. For fifteen years there was peace
and prosperity in the country, and Brian sent abroad to purchase books,
and to find teachers and professors in place of those whom the Norsemen
had destroyed; he rebuilt churches, and encouraged learning, and made
bridges and causeways, and highroads all through the country; and he
strengthened the fortresses, and ruled well and generously. He made a
royal progress through the land, taking hostages from all the chiefs in
token of their subjection to him. But all the time the Northmen were
planning to avenge themselves upon him, by an expedition the like of
which had not been made before into Ireland; and the King of Ireland,
Melaughlan, whom Brian had dethroned, joined with them against him.
A great fire may arise from a little spark, and the light which set
Ireland and the North ablaze was kindled by the angry words of a
jealous woman.
Gormliath (or Kormlod, as she is called in Northern saga) was the
fiercest and most dreaded woman of her time. She is said in the saga
to have been “the fairest of women, and best gifted in everything
that was not in her own power, but it was the talk of men that she
did everything ill over which she had any power”--that is, she had
the best gifts of nature, but out of her own will she did nothing but
what was bad. Already she had been married to two husbands, to the
last Danish King of Dublin, Olaf o’ the Sandal, by whom her son was
Sitric Silken-beard, the reigning king when Brian conquered the fort
of Dublin. But even Olaf had found Gormliath too wicked a woman, and
he had sent her away, after which she married the King of Ireland,
Melaughlan, whom Brian dethroned. After his downfall she seems to have
gone with Brian to Kincora, and been married to him, though her former
husband was still alive. So wicked a woman was little comfort to any
husband, and it was not long before we find her parted from Brian also
and taking part against him in every way in her power. But at the time
of our story she was living with Brian at Kincora, though her acts
show that she had little love for him. She was a Leinster princess,
and sister of that King of Leinster whom Brian’s son had caught hiding
in the yew tree. Brian had made peace with him, and he had consented
to pay tribute to Brian as his over-lord. One day he set forth to
conduct a tribute of pine trees for ship-masts to Brian, but at a boggy
part of the road ascending a mountain a dispute broke out between
the drivers of the wagons, and to prevent the masts falling the King
himself sprang from his horse and put out his hand to support the mast
that was in front. In doing so one of the buttons of his silken tunic
broke off. The tunic had been a gift to him from Brian, and had on it
a rich border of gold and buttons of silver. When he arrived at the
palace Melmora took off his tunic, and took it to his sister Gormliath,
asking her to sew on the silver button. But the Queen angrily threw
the garment into the fire, reproaching him bitterly for taking gifts
from Brian or giving tribute to him, and in every way stirring him up
against her husband.
The next morning fresh cause of quarrel arose out of a game of chess
which Morrogh, son of Brian, was playing with Conang, his nephew.
Melmora was standing by, teaching Conang the game, and he advised
a move which lost the game to Morrogh. At that angry words arose
between them, and Morrogh said: “It was thou that gavest advice to the
foreigners at the battle of the Gap when they were defeated.” “I will
give them advice again, and they shall not be defeated,” was Melmora’s
retort. “Take care that thou have the yew tree ready, then, in which
to hide thyself and them,” was Morrogh’s reply. At this the King of
Leinster grew furious, and the next morning, without asking permission
or taking leave of anyone, he left the palace, and started to return
to Leinster. He was mounting his horse on the east side of the wooden
bridge of Killaloe, when a messenger overtook him, sent hastily by
Brian to beg of him to return; he gave the King’s message, telling him
that Brian desired to part from him peaceably and to give him gifts of
gold and vestments. The only reply that Melmora made was to strike at
the officer with his horse-switch, so that he was carried back dying to
Kincora.
When this was related to Brian some of those who stood round him called
on him to pursue Melmora and force him to submit. But Brian said that
he would not pursue one who had been a guest under his roof, but that
at the door of his own palace in Leinster he would demand satisfaction
from him.
Hardly had Melmora returned to his own palace than he set himself
with all his power to raise up enemies to Brian. He said that he had
received insult, not only to himself, but to the province, in the house
of Brian, and he incited the princes of the province to turn against
the King of Munster. They declared for war, and began to assemble a
great host. Moreover, Melmora sent messengers to stir up the princes
of the north, so that on both sides, from Ulster and from Leinster,
war was declared against Brian. The rebels effected an alliance with
the foreigners of Dublin, who busied themselves in gathering the most
formidable host that ever reached the shores of Ireland. And on his
side also Brian bent all his efforts to gather together an army so
great that it could not be overcome, and he plundered far and wide to
get provisions for his host and to weaken the enemy. In the spring
he was ready to set out for Dublin with his army, and when Sitric
Silken-beard, Norse King of Dublin, saw that, he sent messengers to the
Orkneys and to the Isle of Man to stir up the Northmen there to come to
his assistance and to the assistance of the King of Leinster. It was
Gormliath who egged him on. After Melmora left Kincora she returned to
Dublin and she employed all her wit to set her son Sitric against her
husband, Brian. “So grim had she got against him that she would gladly
have had him dead,” says the saga. But Sitric and all the viking chiefs
knew the goodness of Brian’s heart, “that he was the best-natured
of all kings, and that he would thrice forgive all outlaws the same
offence before he would have them judged by the law; and from that it
was clear to them what a king he must have been.” But Gormliath would
take no denial, and in the end she got her way, and King Sitric set
sail for the Orkneys.