CONQUEST OF IRELAND: UNCOMFORTABLE EFFECTS FOLLOWING THE CULTIVATION OF
AN ACQUISITORIAL PROPENSITY.
In 1173 occurred the conquest of Ireland, anciently called Hibernia.
These people were similar to the Britons, but of their history prior to
the year 400 A.D. little is known. Before Christ a race of men inhabited
Ireland, however, who had their own literature, and who were advanced in
the arts. This was before the introduction of the "early mass" whiskers,
and prior to the days when the Orangemen had sent forth their defiant
peal.
[Illustration: "EARLY MASS" WHISKERS.]
In the fifth century Ireland was converted by St. Patrick, and she
became known as the Island of Saints and Scholars. To say that she has
become the island of pugilists and policemen to-day would be unjust,
and to say that she has more influence in America than in Ireland would
be unkind. Surely her modern history is most pathetic.
For three centuries the island was harassed by the Danes and Northmen;
but when the Marquis of Queensberry rules were adopted, the latter threw
up the sponge. The finish fight occurred at Clontarf, near Dublin.
Henry had written permission from the Pope to conquer Ireland years and
years before he cared to do it. Sometimes it rained, and at other times
he did not feel like it, so that his permission got almost worn out by
carrying it about with him.
In 1172, however, an Irish chief, or subordinate king, had trouble with
his kingdom,--doubtless because some rival monarch stepped in it and
tracked it around over the other kingdoms,--and so he called upon the
Anglo-Normans under Strongbow (Richard de Clare), whose deClaration of
Independence was the first thing of the kind known to civilization, for
help. While assisting the Irish chief, Strongbow noticed a royal wink on
the features of Henry, and acting upon it proceeded to gather in the
other precincts of Ireland. Thus, in 1172, the island was placed under
the rule of a viceroy sent there by England.
Henry now had trouble with three of his sons, Henry, Richard, and
Geoffrey, who threatened that if the old gentleman did not divide up
his kingdom among them they would go to Paris and go into the _roué_
business. Henry himself was greatly talked about, and his name coupled
with that of fair Rosamond Clifford, a rival of Queen Eleanor. The king
refused to grant the request of his sons, and bade them go ahead with
their _roué_ enterprises so long as they did not enter into competition
with him.
[Illustration: THE BECKET DIFFICULTY STILL KEPT HENRY AWAKE AT NIGHT.]
So they went to Paris, where their cuttings-up were not noticed. The
queen took their side, as also did Louis of France and William, King of
Scotland. With the Becket difficulty still keeping him awake of nights
also, the king was in constant hot water, and for a time it seemed that
he would have to seek other employment; but his masterly hit in making a
barefooted pilgrimage to the tomb of Becket, thus securing absolution
from the Archbishop of Canterbury, turned the tide.
William of Scotland was made a prisoner in 1174, and the confederacy
against the king broken up. Thus, in 1175, the castle at Edinburgh came
into the hands of the English, and roast beef was substituted for oats.
Irish and Scotch whiskey were now introduced into the national policy,
and bits of bright English humor, with foot-notes for the use of the
Scots, were shipped to Edinburgh.
Henry had more trouble with his sons, however, and they embittered his
life as the sons of a too-frolicsome father are apt to do. Henry Jr.
died repentant; but Geoffrey perished in his sins in a tournament,
although generally the tournament was supposed to be conducive to
longevity. Richard was constitutionally a rebel, and at last compelled
the old gentleman to yield to a humiliating treaty with the French in
1189. Finding in the list of the opposing forces the name of John, his
young favorite son, the poor old battered monarch, in 1189, selected an
unoccupied grave and took possession of same.
[Illustration: THE UNHAPPY FATHER SANK INTO THE GRAVE.]
He cursed his sons and died miserably, deserted by his followers, who
took such clothing as fitted them best, and would have pawned the throne
had it not been out of style and unavailable for that purpose, beside
being secured to the castle. His official life was creditable to a high
degree, but his private life seemed to call loudly for a good, competent
disinfectant.
[Illustration: WHEN RICHARD WAS SICK THE GENEROUS SULTAN SENT HIM FRUITS
AND ICE.]
Richard _Kyur duh le ong_, as the French have it, or Richard I. of the
lion heart, reigned in his father's stead from 1189 to 1199. His reign
opened with a disagreeable massacre. The Jews, who had brought him some
presents to wear at his inaugural ball, were insulted by the populace,
who believed that the king favored a massacre, and so many were put to
death.
Richard and Philip of France organized a successful crusade against
people who were not deemed orthodox, and succeeded in bagging a good
many in Syria, where the woods were full of infidels.
Richard, however, was so overbearing that Philip could not get along
with him, and they dissolved partnership; but Richard captured Ascalon
after this. His army was too much reduced, however, to capture
Jerusalem.
Saladin, the opposing sultan, was a great admirer of Richard, and when
the lion-hearted king was ill, sent him fruits and even ice, so the
historian says. Where the Saracens got their ice at that time we can
only surmise.
Peace was established, and the pilgrims who desired to enter the holy
city were unmolested. This matter was settled in 1192.
On his return Richard was compelled to go _incog._ through Germany, as
the authorities were opposed to him. He was discovered and confined till
a large ransom was paid.
Philip and John, the king's brother, decided that Richard's extremity
was their opportunity, and so concluded to divide up his kingdom between
them. At this dramatic moment Richard, having paid his sixty thousand
pounds ransom and tipped his custodian, entered the English arena, and
the jig was up. John was obliged to ask pardon, and Richard generously
gave it, with the exclamation, "Oh, that I could forget his injuries as
soon as he will my forgiveness!"
[Illustration: RICHARD TRAVELLING INCOG. THROUGH GERMANY.]
Richard never secured a peace with Philip, but died, in 1199, from the
effects of a wound received in France, and when but forty-two years of
age. The longevity among monarchs of the present day is indeed
gratifying when one reads of the brief lives of these old reigners, for
it surely demonstrates that royalty, when not carried to excess, is
rather conducive to health than otherwise.
Richard died from the effects of an arrow wound, and all his foes in
this engagement were hanged, except the young warrior who had given him
his death wound. Doubtless this was done to encourage good marksmanship.
England got no benefit from Richard's great daring and expensive picnics
in Palestine; but of course he advertised Great Britain, and frightened
foreign powers considerably. The taxation necessary to maintain an army
in the Holy Land, where board was high, kept England poor; but every one
was proud of Richard, because he feared not the face of clay.
John, the disagreeable brother, succeeded Richard, and reigned seventeen
years, though his nephew, Arthur, the son of Geoffrey, was the rightful
heir. Philip, who kept himself in pocket-money by starting one-horse
rebellions against England, joined with Arthur long enough to effect a
treaty, in 1200, which kept him in groceries several years, when he
again brought Prince Arthur forward; but this was disastrous, for the
young prince was captured and cruelly assassinated by request of his
affectionate uncle, King John.
To be a relative of the king in those good old days was generally
fatal. Let us rejoice that times have so greatly improved, and that the
wicked monarch has learned to seat himself gingerly upon his
bomb-infested throne.
[Illustration: JOHN CAUSED ARTHUR TO BE CRUELLY MURDERED.]